Peter certainly had kept his promise and it wore Stiles out in the best way, that soon after they had settled down for sleep he went out like a light, snoring softly cradled in Peter's arms.

Even in sleep he recognizes Peter's touch and shifts into it, murmuring softly before settling again. Stiles doesn't fully wake for another thirty minutes or so, snuffling and shifting in the bed before rolling over onto his back, then his side to face Peter. His eyes blink awake, sleepily and his hair sleep-mussed.

Stiles smiles at him and reaches out, a hand brushing along his arm. "Mornin'," he slurs out.