Receiving no response, Derek simply let himself in. It was good to be the Master.
Inside, the room was dark, the shades drawn despite it being mid-morning, and there was a Stiles-shaped lump on the bed. Derek frowned, and shut the door behind him with an audible click.
He couldn't tell if the boy was awake or asleep, at least not by his heartbeat, so he looked around the room, frowning at the piles of clothing that didn't smell like Stiles. Was he taking his work home with him?