Stiles balks at that, an incredulous grunt escaping him as he leans back. "Whoa how did this become my fault when the nesting and the Netflix were your idea and this is your house?" he asks, laughing. "That is such a load of bullcrap, holy wow, Sawyer. I mean...damn," he adds.

He's still for a moment and then he leans back in, resting his chin on her shoulder, his face drawn in thought. "Well...somebody's going to have to get that."

Still, he makes no effort to loosen his hold or encourage her to actually get the stupid remote. Mostly, because he doesn't want her to move, lest she decide not to return to this exact spot and Stiles likes her right where she is.