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“Mistletoe is actually a parasite,” Derek says darkly at the young couple embracing. Seriously. This is a brightly lit family-friendly Christmas tree lot. He can’t believe the nerve.
They don’t even look ashamed, just pull apart slightly. The guy laughs sheepishly, brushing his hair out of his face, and the girl is still octopused onto him. They’re wearing matching Christmas sweaters.
“Sorry, we just got so excited, and then there was the mistletoe and it was perfect and Chad, you’re just the best!”
“No, you’re the best, Julie!”
Derek wants to throw up.
Chad and Julie press their foreheads together and give each other a long, deep look like everyone else in the world has melted away.
Derek hates it. He hates love, he hates romance, he hates Christmas.
“Okay,” Derek says, more to say something to remind them that he’s still standing there, in a stupid itchy polyester vest that reads HALE FAMILY CHRISTMAS TREE FARMS and for the last time, cursing the fact that Cora got him to take three of her shifts this week. She skipped out early to spend time with her new girlfriend, and then Laura conned Derek into taking her shifts last week because she and her husband and their picture-perfect three kids are going skiing, and this whole family farm business is stupid and certainly their parents have plenty of capable staff but the stupid family policy of having a Hale on the grounds at all times is quintessential to keeping up with the small-family-business aesthetic.
Whatever. It’s just two more days of this, although Derek isn’t exactly looking forward to going back to his regularly miserable life of deadlines and churning out the sad soundbites for the excuse that claims to be journalism nowadays.
“I can’t believe it, it’s so perfect, did you know we met under mistletoe?” Julie giggles.
“Last year, in fact,” Chad says. “The minute I saw her, I knew. I knew she was going to be my forever girl.”
“And now we’re engaged!” Julie flashes her ring brightly at Derek.
“This is our first Christmas together, and we’re looking for the perfect tree.” Chad kisses her cheek and looks at Derek like he has the answer.
“Great,” Derek says. “You should get that one.” He points to the largest and most expensive tree in the lot all the way in the south corner.
Julie pouts. “But is it really us?”
“I don’t know, babe, maybe we’re more of a white spruce kind of couple. This is a big decision. This is going to be our forever tree, in our forever home.” Chad frowns.
Derek scowls. “A live tree will die in five weeks.”
Julie’s eyes widen. “Oh no!”
“You think buying a tree together means —”
A hand clasps on his shoulder before Derek can go on his third sustainability rant of the day.
“Derek, darling, why don’t you go help the young man over by the south gate?”
Talia Hale appears out of nowhere, looking resplendent and somehow not ridiculous in the vest and matching Santa hat. She looks at the couple and gives them a sweet smile. “I heard you were thinking about white spruces? I’d be happy to walk you through all the options. A live tree really is an experience, you know.”
And of course, Laura is right behind her, nodding along. “Coming home to that fresh scent—wouldn’t it be the perfect way to create that special memory of your first Christmas together as an engaged couple?”
Fucking sparkles in both their eyes. Great.
Laura leads the couple away, but not before giving Derek a smug look. “Let me tell you about our potted options, which you can plant in your yard…”
Mom gives Derek a disappointed look. “Derek, you know that coming here is an experience, and we need to give these couples and happy families that experience. You have to exude the promise of love and happiness and the joy of being together with your loved ones. Come on, show me your best love is forever face.”
Derek stares ahead and grimaces, attempting to pull his face together in a smile. “We don’t sell engagement rings, Mom.”
“I know, darling, but please lighten up. You’re starting to scare people away.”
“Maybe then you shouldn’t have me here on the lot then.”
Mom pulls him in for a hug and smooches him on the forehead. “But that’s the point of family. Now don’t scare this new customer off, okay?”
Derek rolls his eyes and folds his arms together, stalking to the end of the lot where the supposed guy is waiting.
“Hey!” The guy smiles at Derek, and of course he’s happy; he probably has a partner right behind him and they’re going to tell Derek their life story and their meet cute and Derek just has to grit his teeth and bear it.
The guy also is, unfortunately, very attractive, with bright brown eyes and an upturned nose and messy brown hair escaping his beanie.
“You must be Derek!”
“I must be,” Derek says. “What do you want.”
“I dunno, I was hoping for your expert opinion. I’m Stiles, by the way.”
“Whatever. It’s a tree. It doesn’t matter.”
“You sure about that?”
Derek jerks his head towards the couple who are in the middle of telling Mom their life story, probably. “You see that couple? They think buying a Christmas tree is like, the symbol of their lives together. That it’s going into their forever home, and it’s going to be the end-all be all of everything, and everything is going to be perfect for them, and they’re going to live happily ever after.” Derek scowls, kicking up snow with his boot. “There’s no such thing.”
Stiles tilts his head at Derek. “Oh? You don’t believe in love and happy endings?”
“Absolutely not. They only met a year ago, and that Chad guy said he just saw her and he knew. What’s the deal with that? How can you know? No one knows. There’s no guarantees in life, least of all in relationships, and there’s no fucking way like connections like that just happen.”
Derek’s not bitter. He’s just had a string of terrible relationships, and he knows first hand that relationships are trouble, and opening up and being vulnerable only means getting hurt.
Stiles raises his eyebrow. “I mean, with that attitude, I’m not surprised.”
“You don’t know me,” Derek says.
“That’s fair, I don’t,” Stiles says. “But I think that’s pretty sad, that you already decided that you just don’t believe in the possibility that something good can happen.”
“And you believe that it can?”
Stiles laughs, and something inside Derek’s heart flutters a little. It’s a beautiful sound, filled with joy and mirth, and he wants to hear it again.
“Yeah, I do. I mean, you have no idea what the universe has in store, you know? Anything can happen, any day.”
Stiles’ voice is so sincere and filled with hope that Derek almost wants to believe it. But he knows better.
“You can’t expect that like— like they just met under a random piece of mistletoe—which is a parasite, by the way, it can’t photosynthesize and it just hangs out, leeching off these trees’ hard work, and it’s actually not that pretty! It’s a stupid idea that you stand under a stupid plant and you kiss someone and it’s some sort of magical experience and you know?” Derek is ranting, he knows he is, and he doesn’t know this guy at all, and Derek suddenly finds his whole attractive existence extremely annoying. Especially just the way he’s just listening at Derek intently, like he’s actually validating his feelings like he wants to listen.
“I feel like anything can be magical if you want it to be,” Stiles says. “It’s just an ugly parasitic plant until someone gives it meaning. It’s just a kiss until it’s not, you know? Who’s to say what’s connection and what isn’t?”
Derek steps back, suddenly hyper aware he’s probably shared way too much. “Sorry, you just came here to buy a tree,” he says. “Uh. Yeah. Tree. Which one do you want? What does your partner like?”
Stiles grins at him, his smile lighting up his entire face. “No partner. Just me. I just moved back to Beacon Hills.”
“Back…”
Stiles brushes his hand through his hair, looking up at Derek, almost shy. “I dunno if you remember me. I was a few years back. You’re Cora’s older brother, right?”
“Oh. Yeah. Oh, you’re Sheriff Stilinski’s kid?”
“That’s me,” Stiles says brightly. “Just a boy, standing in front of another boy, looking for a Christmas tree.”
Derek laughs in spite of himself. “Okay. Welcome back. Here, you should get one of these noble firs.” He likes the roundness and the fullness of the tree, and thinks about Stiles smiling as he decorates it. It’s a good picture.
The image suddenly turns into Derek decorating the tree with Stiles, and Derek blinks. Where did that come from? He doesn’t have domestic fantasies about people. Stop it, brain.
“Yeah?” Stiles steps a bit closer to Derek. “Okay, question for you.”
“Okay.”
Stiles jerks his head upward at the bough of mistletoe gently swaying in the wind above them. Derek is gonna get Cora for stringing these damn mistletoe things everywhere.
“You don’t believe in love at first sight. You don’t believe in love, period. Or that you can make a connection in a single moment.”
Now that Stiles is saying it, Derek isn’t quite so sure, but he already said it, and he nods, standing his ground.
“You think mistletoe is stupid.”
“Yeah.”
“And I don’t know you.”
Derek’s heart lurches, because suddenly he very much wants to know Stiles. He wants to know how he likes his hot cocoa, if he likes sleepy mornings, what his hopes and dreams are, and, and…
Fuck.
“But I think that maybe— maybe you want to believe in all of this. That this kind of connection is out there. What do you think?” Stiles is close enough to touch now, hanging on the periphery of Derek’s space, like he’s asking so much more than a simple question.
Derek’s throat goes dry. “What are you really asking me, Stiles?”
“Why don’t you kiss me and find out?” Stiles winks at him.
It’s a challenge if Derek ever heard one, and Stiles just ducks his head a little, swaying back and forth, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Derek steps forward, closing the space between them.
Stiles sighs into the kiss, and it’s soft and sweet, and Derek can feel his whole body alight with something, something soft and fluttery like the hope of something new.
The kiss is actually kind of perfect, and it’s over too soon. Stiles draws him close, pressing his forehead against Derek’s and they both catch their breath, exhaling with a giddy energy.
“So?” Stiles says, grinning up at him. “What do you think?”
“Not sure,” Derek says. “Might have to do it again. You know, for science.”
“Oh, who am I to get in the way of science?” Stiles grins.
“Do you want to have dinner with me?” Derek blurts out. “And we can continue the experiment. You know, about connection. I don’t think I’ve been convinced yet.”
Stiles laughs, and this is it. Derek knows it then, this moment, that he wants so, so much.
“You’re right, you know,” Derek says. “I don’t know you. But I’d like to.”
“Good,” Stiles says. “I’ve got a good feeling about this.”