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Stiles rips the mistletoe down from where it’s hanging over the doorway, ignoring the shocked looks he gets when the rest of the class stares at him as he tears it to pieces and throws it away.
"Stiles, you don't have to-"
"Don't, Derek. Just… don’t."
Derek wisely keeps his mouth closed as he walks into homeroom and takes his customary seat, Stiles taking a few minutes to calm himself before he can follow him.
It had been a bit of a crazy weekend.
Stiles had known that there was always something a little off about Derek Hale, the broody Senior that lived way out in the middle of the woods with possibly more than a dozen relatives and seemed to hate spending any time away from them.
(Don’t get Stiles wrong; he loves his dad and wants to make sure that the man has a long and healthy life, but there are times when he wants-no, needs-a few moments to himself, where Derek will follow his sister Cora around like some sort of sentient shadow and glare at anyone who even thinks about looking at her.)
And it wasn't just the overly protective, family-is-everything vibe that Derek gave off, okay? It was the way that he always seemed to know whenever Stiles was in trouble, the way that he seemed to be able to tell whenever Scott was about to have an asthma attack and would be standing right there with an inhaler on hand(who in the hell does that, anyway?), and the way that whenever Stiles even made a joke about full moons and weird behaviors, Derek would get this pinched look on his face before muttering that he ‘had to go’.
Weird, right?
Well, everything that had seemed strange or off about Derek had finally made sense when a psycho came rolling through town and gave proof to the fact that werewolves existed.
And that Derek was one of them.
It was a lot to process, okay?
Stiles, being Stiles, had immediately starting looking up every single thing he could about werewolves, werewolf lore and behavior, not stopping until he literally dropped from exhaustion.
One of the things that he had found out explained why, every year when the festive spirit hit Beacon Hills High and mistletoe was being hung over the doorways amid colorful garlands, that Derek had looked like he was three seconds away from barfing every time he had seen one.
Turns out that the thing that Stiles had teased Derek about being a Scrooge over was severely poisonous to werewolves.
Stiles had made it his mission to rip down every single one that he found, Scott wheezing that he could help after Stiles explained why he had attacked Miss Rosemary’s mistletoe when he had seen it Monday morning, but Stiles waved away his offer.
Scott could barely keep a steady run going, much less rip down various plants hung at various heights, and Stiles figured it was the least he could do after making Derek feel like shit about something he really couldn’t help.
The warning he had given Derek was also the first time they had spoken since The Big Reveal, but Stiles wasn't sure how to cross that bridge and had been avoiding it so far.
It wasn't like he was mad that Derek hadn’t told him; it wasn't just his secret, and there apparently were people that hunted him for sport, and staying alive meant nobody even guessing who you were, so telling someone was probably a big ‘DO NOT’ in the werewolves’ survival manual.
Derek, however, had seem to think that now that Stiles knew he was Remus Lupin-ing on the down low, their antagonistic friendship had dissolved because Stiles thought he was some kind of monster or something.
Which, come on, he really should have known better; how many fights have they had where Stiles had adamantly insisted Remus was totally kick ass and the only worthwhile DADA teacher Harry had?
Then again, maybe Stiles should have been the one that needed his head examined if he couldn't pick up something out of the way that Derek had harped on Remus’ werewolfitude and whether or not the reason he was so ‘kick ass’ was because he was a monster.
(Stiles remembers the way that he had got up in Derek’s face over that, a little thrown by how happy Derek had been that Stiles was yelling at him.
Not that you could tell, if you didn't know where to look. It was all in the eyebrows; those things added complete nuances to the way Derek spoke…)
So, yeah, maybe they both needed to work on their detective skills, or learn how to communicate better, but right now they’re doing what they do best; Stiles, completely ignoring the problem until it goes away, and Derek is currently glaring at nothing like the air itself personally offended him.
Or, at least, that’s what he did until lunch. Lunch was when he pulled Stiles away from his debate with the principle that mistletoe was a social construct that put unwanted pressure on people to give into harassment while in front of an audience.
Hey, Stiles needed a reason to be pulling down all the mistletoe he could find and going with Jackson’s claim that he was just jealous he didn't have anybody to kiss under it was lame.
"You need to stop."
Stiles tries to ignore the heat that Derek always seems to give off as he yanks his arm out of the Senior’s grip. “Right, and when have I ever listened to you?”
"Stiles-"
"No, dude. Whatever you’re going to say, just forget it, alright? These things can kill you, no way in hell am I going to leave them hanging around!”
Derek blinks at him then and Stiles can’t really do anything but stare back, suddenly aware of how close they’re standing and the realization that Laura needs to wheedle Derek into wearing green more, it really brings out the color of his eyes…
"Come to my house after school."
"What?" Stiles had heard what Derek said, only because he was staring at his mouth, but it was a rare thing that he had ever been to the Hale’s front yard, let alone inside their house.
Derek licks his lips and Stiles’ brain goes haywire before blithely reminding him of that little bit of werewolf lore that said their sense of smell was so good that it could pick up emotions.
Stiles’ heart stutters for a completely different reason this time and he puts as much space between him and Derek as he can without being rude, ignoring the way that Derek’s brow furrow as he does.
"Come to my house after school." It sounds less like a request this time and more like an order, Derek quickly tagging on when he sees Stiles opening his mouth to argue, "My mom has some things she wants to talk to you about."
"Oh god, am I going to have to leave a will?"
"Just come to the house, Stiles."
He’s definitely going to need to write up a will. Well, at least Scott will be happy about his new X-Box…
The Hale house had always seemed impressive whenever he had snuck up here as a kid and, more recently, whenever Derek had made him and Scott wait before heading out with them and the inside was no less grandiose than the outside.
The long, low whistle that Stiles releases on seeing the detail that everything has causes the tips of Derek’s ear to turn red, but whatever he was going to say in response is held in when Talia Hale, District Attorney and Hale Alpha, descends the stairs.
"Is gorgeousness a werewolf thing, or is everyone in your family just ridiculously pretty?"
Talia laughs and states, “I’m glad to see that Derek wasn’t exaggerating when he told us about you, Stiles. We have a lot to talk about.”
Oh, would you look at that? Derek’s not the only one that’s blushing anymore…
Talia laughs again as Derek hisses that he doesn’t talk about just Stiles, face completely flaming when she nods and states, “But you do mention him an awful lot, dear.” before directing them to the dining room and getting started on the ‘talk’ that she had mentioned.
Stiles had been expecting the kind of interrogation he usually got when his dad found out that he had been listening to his calls again, but Talia seemed more into filling him in on the gaps in his understanding, as well as clarifying some of the things he had been fuzzy on with a promise to have a ‘private chat, if you want’ later, significant look Derek’s way included.
Despite the fact that he had been pressing for an excuse to get into the Hale house for years, Stiles really just wants to go hide in his own bedroom after that.
"Now, about this mistletoe business I've been hearing about-"
“Dude!” Stiles exclaims, making Derek jump from where he had been lurking the entire time. “You told your mom on me?!?”
"Actually," Talia cuts in, with an amused twinkle in her eye that Stiles is really starting to distrust, "Agatha Rosemary bumped into me at the grocery store on Monday and made a comment on how I should watch out for ‘that Stilinski boy’ because you’ve apparently gone mad and made it your personal mission to destroy every mistletoe plant in Beacon Hills."
"They're dangerous!”
"Not to you." Derek is the one that speaks now, his brow all furrowed again, looking at Stiles like he can’t figure him out but he wants to and it makes that shivery feeling from earlier come back, making Stiles blurt out the very thing that he swore he wouldn’t.
"They are to you and I’m not going to sit around and watch you pretend everything’s fine while you slowly poison yourself!”
There’s dead silence in the house after that, with Stiles not looking at either of the Hales and instead looking at the table, remembering That Night as vividly as it had happened a few hours ago instead of a few days…
Derek had saved his life that night, his and Scott’s, from the Omega that they had ran into because Stiles had thought it was a good idea to go swimming in the middle of the woods; Derek had come out of nowhere, and before Stiles could even shout a warning, Derek had let out this massive roar before charging the Omega like he was nothing.
He was just trying to return the favor, as little as he could. Why was that such a bad thing?
"It’s not a bad thing, sweetie."
Shit, had he said that outloud? A quick look to Talia’s face says that he did, but she still has that small smile she started the evening with, so he figures he’s not in trouble.
He can’t bring himself to look at Derek just yet.
"While I’m thoroughly touched that you care so much about my son, the reason I brought it up was because Der- we were worried that some of the Hunters who were chasing that Omega may get the idea that a teenaged boy pulling down mistletoe might have more secrets than the average Junior.”
And they were still trying to protect him, even after he stumbles around like an idiot and messes up their carefully placed rules… Stiles really should just ship himself off to Antarctica, where he won’t be any more trouble.
"I understand."
"Good." With a graceful movement, Talia is standing once more, leaving Stiles to scramble ungainly up after her. "Perhaps just a petition to the principle instead? Or a survey from the rest of the student body?"
"Low-key. Got it." Stile chirps, trying to smile but not really feeling like he managed it.
Talia’s gaze softens even further and before he knows it, Stiles is being pulled into a warm hug that tightens a little when he makes a-very manly, mind you-squeak of surprise.
"You’re a good boy, Stiles. Thank you, for everything." Before he can ask what she meant by that, Talia is gliding up the stairs and throwing a "Derek will see you out." over her shoulder.
Now it’s just Derek and him in the room, with neither of them looking at the other.
"I didn’t-"
"Do you-"
They both stop, Stiles making a ‘go on’ gesture that Derek frowns at, but he takes a deep breath and sighs before stating, “I didn’t think you would come here after what happened, or that you would care about- about the mistletoe.”
Stiles isn’t sure, but he could’ve sworn that sentence should’ve ended with ‘about me' instead.
It makes him angry, but more than that, it makes him sad.
"Maybe you should learn to raise your expectations." Stiles snaps, unable to deal with the emotional rollercoaster ride he’s been on all day and just wanting to go home, drink some hot chocolate, and not think for the rest of the day.
He’s pushing past Derek to do just that when he’s stilled by a hand around his arm and Derek soft voice muttering, “Yeah, maybe I should.”
They’re back to where they were at lunch; standing way too close together, with Stiles sure that his heart is going to beat right out of his chest when Derek’s eyes dart down to his mouth and stay there for a few seconds before meeting his gaze again.
"While I really do hate the plant, there is one tradition attached to it that I don’t mind so much, if you were the one doing it with me.”
"What's that?" Stiles’ head is going fuzzy with the way that Derek’s staring at him, dimly noticing that they’re in the hallway leading to the front door and Derek has moved his gaze from Stiles’ face…
…to a small spring of mistletoe right above them.
"Kissing under it." Derek’s voice is still low, hesitant like he can’t hear the way Stiles’ blood is rushing through his ears. "It’s plastic and there’s no audience here, so…"
Stiles’ is reminded of the speech he gave to the principle earlier that day and is touched that Derek took what he said to heart; it gives him the courage to reach up and gently cup the side of Derek’s face, a small thrill shivering his spine when Derek’s eyes flash a brilliant blue color for a moment before going back to their breathtaking hazel.
"Yeah," It’s an agreement to everything and nothing all at once, both of them moving at the same time to finally come together in what Stiles will later describe as the ‘perfect kiss’.
Looks like Jackson was wrong after all, Stiles does have someone to kiss under the mistletoe.
Once he’s replaced all of them with non-werewolf-lethal ones, of course.