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1.
“Derek.”
“Mm.”
A poke to his back. “Derek.”
Derek groaned, reaching out to look for his pillow and hit the other person’s head, only to find it missing and his palm hitting the mattress.
A giggle. “Der-bear.”
Derek turned over, felt the blankets sliding off him.
A whistle. “Damn, Der.”
Derek’s eyes flashed open and he was met with mischievous brown eyes
“Good morning!” Stiles greeted, grinning brighter than the sun.
Derek swiped at him half-heartedly, wanting to sleep some more. “Stiles, what the fuck?”
“What?” Stiles asked, big eyes and long lashes looking so pretty.
Derek groaned again. “God, you're too fucking happy in the mornings.”
“So are you," Stiles said with a sly grin on his face and amusement lacing his voice.
Derek frowned, rubbing at his eyes. “What?” He yawned and stretched with a lazy groan.
Stiles poked Derek’s hip. “Look down, sexy.” He winked and then darted off down the spiral suitcase to the loft.
Derek did. His mind was too sleep-addled to remember that he was, in fact, naked.
Apparently, he was very happy, indeed.
2.
A few hours later, Derek found himself following after Stiles with a grocery cart, busy doing the shopping for the Christmas dinner the pack was having for Christmas. They were the only two, plus Danny surprisingly, who could cook well. Derek and Stiles were on shopping duty after Danny volunteered to do the bulk of the cooking.
Stiles’ ratty and well-loved green scarf trailed after him as he bounded from aisle to aisle. The pompom top on his beanie also bobbed along and Derek found it so ridiculous…ly adorable.
Dammit.
Derek rounded the corner after grabbing some eggs and saw Stiles talking to a familiar face. It was Mama Jay, the owner of Mama’s Diner just outside of town. She used to babysit Stiles at the diner back when the Sheriff was busy and she also knew Derek’s mom from back in the day. He and Stiles loved eating at her place and they ate there at least once every two weeks.
“Dad and I will drop by sometime to see them,” Stiles was saying as Derek neared.
Mama Jay smiled, patting his arm. “That would be lovely, darling.” She noticed Derek, smiling. “Oh, hello, Derek.”
“Morning, Mama Jay,” Derek said politely.
“Doing shopping with the boyfriend, I take it?” she asked, smiling at them both. She always said that and Derek just stopped correcting her.
“Of course,” Stiles said, playing along.
“Well, I’m happy you lovely darlings are going to have such a happy Christmas celebrating together,” Mama Jay said, patting Stiles’ cheek.
“Oh, we're very happy,” Stiles said grinning, and Derek noticed that familiar mischievous grin. “Derek is the happiest, you know. Like this morning, he woke up with–”
Derek grabbed the end of his scarf and tugged on it, not enough to choke him and just enough to silence him.
“–a smile on his face,” Stiles wheezed out.
Mama Jay was too sharp though, and Derek saw her looking at his red face and Stiles’ mischievous expression as he rubbed his throat.
“I see. Well, I sure hope you two will continue to have… happy mornings,” she said, hiding a smile behind her hand. Derek flushed.
“Anyway, I should get going.” Mama Jay kissed Stiles’ cheek, and then shuffled over to Derek, kissing his cheek in turn. Derek heard a telltale clang when something was dropped in their cart. When she pulled back, Mama Jay winked, seriously winked, at him before walking off.
Stiles whistled. “Wow. Mama Jay’s got game.”
Derek looked down. There was a box of condoms placed on top of the eggs.
Stiles simply snickered and ran off, pompom beanie bouncing on his head. Later on, he threw lube in the cart as well.
Derek didn’t remove the condoms or the lube. He ignored Stiles’ knowing grin when they paid for it.
3.
It's not that Derek didn’t like Stiles, because he did. He really did. And that was kind of the problem because Derek was actually really gone on Stiles. But damn it if Stiles wasn’t a damn inappropriate asshole.
Not only was he mangling Christmas songs but he was… He was…
“Pulling down his pants, yanking off my own,” Stiles sang to the tune of “Jingle Bells”. “Underneath the mistletoe, I’ll make your Alpha moan.”
Goddammit. Derek flushed as he heard Stiles sing from the living room where he was wrapping presents. He glared at Danny and Isaac, who were snickering as they worked around the kitchen.
“…Your Alpha’s hot. Your Alpha’s hot. We’ll go all the way,” Stiles sang. “Oh, what fun it is to ride that Alpha dick all day! Hey!”
Derek fell off his stool, Danny stuffed his fist in his mouth and Isaac literally face-planted on the counter to stop himself from guffawing.
Stiles moved on to “I Wish You A Merry Christmas,” and sang, “I wish I could see him naked. I wish I could see him naked. I wish I could see him naked, and down on his knees.”
“Make him stop,” Isaac whined, practically clawing at his face. His face was red, trying to stop himself from laughing.
Derek was feeling no better. He felt like he would explode.
“Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock. Jingle balls swing and ding a ling ding…” Stiles continued to sing. “Blowing and knotting is oh so fun. Now the jingle hop has begun…”
And dammit if Derek wasn’t just a bit turned on.
“Did he say knotting?” Isaac squeaked.
“…What a bright time. It’s the right time. To rock the night away (in bed).”
Danny snickered. “He’s doing his own second voice.”
“Jingle bell time is a swell time. To go riding that one-wolf sleigh.” By this time, they could all see Stiles dancing past the doorway. “Giddy-up jingle wolf, pick up your feet. It’s knotting time around the clock. Mix and a-mingle in the jingling beat. That’s the jingle bell. That’s the jingle bell. That’s the jingle bell rock.”
After that, there was silence for a few moments.
“Oh, thank god,” Danny sighed. “He’s done, I think.”
Derek knew better though. He winced when Stiles started mangling the “Deck the Halls” this time.
“Deck the halls with boughs of holly. Fa la la la la, la la la la. Tis the season to be horny. Fa la la la la, la la la la. Take it off our gay apparel…” And Stiles actually paused to snicker. “Fa la la la la, la la la la. Roll around and come til morning. Fa la la la la, la la la la.”
4.
The moment Derek walked into the Stilinski house, he tripped. Over air.
Isaac, Scott and Jackson burst into laughter at that, rolling around on the floor. Derek couldn’t even glare at them, too busy picking himself up off the floor to look at what was happening.
“W-W-What the hell are you doing?” he gaped.
“You remember Dame Devon, Der-bear,” Stiles said, sitting stock still on the bench in the middle of the living room, looking totally at ease with the way Dame Devon was rubbing blush on his cheeks.
Dame Devon, one of Stiles’ closest friends from The Jungle, turned to Derek. She looked pretty and fierce as ever with her dark lips, smokey eyes, the big blonde hair, and the tight festive red dress.
“Mister Hale,” Dame Devon said, looking him up and down. Derek was still too busy staring at Stiles. “My, oh my. You look more and more scrumptious every time I see you.”
“Nuh-uh-uh,” Stiles said, poking her on the backside to make her yelp. “Hands off.”
“Just a compliment, sugar bun,” Dame Devon pouted. “Beauty needs to be appreciated.”
“I agree,” Stiles said, snickering. He glanced at Derek and winked. And fuck his lashes looked so long and his eyes looked so big and…
“What’s going on here?” Derek asked.
Allison, Lydia and Erica were seated on the couch. Allison was even taking notes and Lydia had a camera trained at Stiles’ face. Erica was looking through the makeup piled on the coffee table. Derek turned to the three males spread out on the floor.
“Makeup lessons,” Scott said, watching his best friend be made up.
“Dame Devon wanted to teach the girls new styles for Christmas,” Isaac said. “And the girls wanted to watch her do it.”
“So they chose Stiles as a guinea pig?” Derek asked, voice a little strangled.
Jackson snorted. “No. The weirdo volunteered.”
“Stop being jelly just because I look better all made up than you, Jackson,” Stiles bit back. And oh god, they were working on his lips now.
And holy hell, they picked out the most perfect shade of pink.
“I…I…” Derek stammered.
Fuck, dammit, he thought. Stiles looked so fucking pretty.
“Uh-oh, sugar bun,” Dame Devon tutted. “Now, look. We put too much on your lips. Let’s take off some of that.”
“We’re out of tissues,” Erica said.
“I’ll get some from the bathroom,” Stiles said, standing up and walked… strutting Derek’s way to get to the guest bathroom.
Derek tried to step back, but
Before Derek could say or do anything, Stiles had a hand on his shoulder and was leaning forward to press his pretty pink lips to Derek’s cheek.
Right in front of everyone.
Derek’s eyes widened and he looked at Stiles when he stepped back, saw the color on Stiles’ lips were a tad lighter now, could smell and feel the sticky mark on his cheek.
Stiles simply grinned and turned to Dame Devon. “Dame Dee, it’s all gone now.”
Everyone in the room looked a mix of surprised and amused.
Dame Devon grinned. “My, oh my.”
Derek ran off, murmuring an excuse about going back to the loft for something or the other, and if he took a picture of it before wiping it off, no one has to know.
5.
“You like Stiles,” Erica said, as if she was telling Derek that the sky was blue, the grass was green, and Stiles was a damn inappropriate bastard.
Derek, instead of denying it, simply said, "Shut up, Erica."
There was a beat of silence – one where Derek thought, well, fuck, he was too obvious – and Erica just raised her perfect eyebrow at him like she was expecting a different reaction. “Huh. That was easier than I thought it'd be.”
Lydia nodded. “I was half-expecting you to growl or even walk out.”
Derek sighed. “Look, just don’t say anything, okay? It’s between us, something we’re both handling.”
“Oh, trust me,” Stiles said, walking inside the room, ignoring the way all three jumped.
And damn, Derek thought, two of them were werewolves. The hell.
Stiles winked at Derek. “Stiles definitely wants to handle you, Alpha of mine.”
Lydia and Erica burst into laughter, while Derek rubbed his face, fighting off a groan and a smile threatening to appear on his face.
Stiles hummed as he exited the room. “On the first day of Christmas, my Alpha gave to me, the best blowjob of the century. On the second day of Christmas, my Alpha gave to me, two rim jobs, and the best blowjob of the century…”
+1.
“Derek,” Stiles said in what he probably thought was whisper but was actually not.
“Sleep, Stiles,” Derek said, feeling tired deep in his bones. Christmas with the pack was a joyous but tiring affair and he would like nothing more than to fall asleep right now, in his living room, and surrounded by his pack. Even the Sheriff and Melissa were sleeping upstairs at Derek’s room, though they were kind enough to change the sheets so as not to disturb the smell too much.
“Derek,” Stiles whispered again.
Derek rolled over, turning on his side. He opened his eyes to face Stiles.
The lights from the Christmas tree cast a rich yellow glow throughout the room and the way it hit Stiles’ pale skin and whiskey eyes made Derek’s breath catch in his throat.
“Sleep, Stiles,” Derek repeated. They were so close, just a few inches apart, and Stiles hand on the space between them was almost touching Derek’s face.
Stiles tugged at the sheets under his hand. “I need to talk to you.” His eyes flutter as he looked to the side. “Please?”
Derek looked at him, beautiful, smart, thoughtful, kind Stiles, who helped him bake cookies and threw flour at his face, who knitted him a scarf with wolves on it for Christmas, who made Christmas, made every day more fun, who made Derek happy.
Wordlessly, he lifted his blankets, let Stiles slide inside and curl up against his chest, warm and strong and smelling of gingerbread. Derek tucked Stiles’ head under his chin.
“Derek,” Stiles said, sounding hesitant, something Derek didn’t normally hear on him.
“It's okay,” Derek said, feeling his eyes slip shut as he ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair, delighted to feel the younger man shudder against him. “You don't have to say it, I know.”
Stiles smiled, Derek could feel it against his neck. “Oh, really?”
Derek pressed a kiss to his temple in response and waited when Stiles leaned back to look at him, eyes soft and loving. He leaned forward and Derek felt warm lips pressing lightly against his, sweet and chaste and perfect.
“Merry Christmas,” Stiles whispered.
“Merry Christmas, Stiles,” Derek said.
Stiles ducked into his arms again, one hand wiggling down and under Derek’s shirt, his palm pressing against the skin of his lower back.
“Tomorrow morning, when you’re happy…” Stiles trailed off with a giggle and Derek felt his hips press close just a teeny bit. “I’ll make you even happier, if you want.”
“Brat,” Derek said fondly. “There are people still here tomorrow morning.”
“I don’t care,” he said.
Derek grinned.