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Beacon Hills rarely got any snowfall, too far into Southern California, but apparently that fairy that they had helped last week didn’t really care about that when he had said ‘to expect a gift of my gratitude’.
"Not that I’m saying we should have left him to that cat barf claiming to be a troll," Stiles states, what seems like every jacket from his house covering his lean frame, "but isn’t this a bit much? Don’t you think that someone might question this?”
"It doesn’t seem so bad," is Kira’s mild answer, her face tilted toward the falling flakes with a look of wonder that made Scott, who was too busy looking at his girlfriend to pay attention to anything else, get that lovestruck look that means anything that Stiles says is going to go right over his head. "I don’t think we need to worry about anybody getting suspicious…"
Stiles sighs, slightly annoyed at Kira’s optimistic attitude but willing to let it pass at the way she reached out and watched as the snow melted against her skin. He guessed that wherever she had moved from had even less snow than Beacon Hills did.
"Alright, but I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so.’ if we get to Lydia’s and she tears our heads off for being so passive about this."
"Honestly, Stiles, you think that a creature who made it his life’s work to avoid being detected would be so sloppy?” Lydia’s derision isn’t any more fun being on the end of even after he’s known her a while and she, of course, is already decked out in what looks like a mink overcoat before they even make it up her driveway.
"Forgive me for being precautious, I just wanted to make sure we had our asses covered!”
"Consider them covered, then. The astrophysics all point to a sudden lowering of pressure and early snowstorm " Lydia responds primly, closing and locking her house behind her, raising her eyes as they stare at her. "I did have plans for today, if the crisis is over now.”
Scott huffs along with Stiles, before pulling Lydia into a one-armed hug that she seems surprised by, but doesn’t fight. “Yes, thank you, Lydia. Let us know if anything happens while you’re out, okay?”
"I already have a mother, I don’t need a big brother wannabe," is her flip reply, but she leans into Scott’s embrace for a few seconds before pushing away and heading to her car to drive off.
"Well, now that we have that covered, what do you guys say to enjoying this weather!"
From the guilty looks on both Scott and Kira’s faces, Stiles guesses that they already made plans for the day as well. The way they get even more apologetic at his sigh just solidifies that thought.
"Sorry, bro, it’s just that… we rarely get any snow and I wanted-"
"Scott, I have heard way too many details of your various romantic plans, okay? Consider me completely deaf to them from this day forward and I’ll let you go with the stipulation that we are all having hot chocolate later. No arguments!”
"Thanks, man!"
Stiles just waved at their retreating backs, determined to find someone to enjoy the day with now that they had given the all-clear that this was something to enjoy.
A long howl echoed from the house down the street, making Stiles almost want to slap himself for not thinking of it before.
"No."
"Ah, come on, dude-!"
"How many times have I told you not to call me ‘dude’?"
"What if I promise not to call you that anymore?"
"Still no, because I don’t have to be a werewolf to know you’re lying."
"Come on, Derek, seriously! You’ve been locked up in here ever since Breadon and Mila decided to skip town and it’s really getting on my nerves! You’re not the only one whose girlfriend decided to take a vacation without giving you a chance to say goodbye, you know!"
Derek blinks at him and Stiles mutters out a curse when he realizes how loud his voice had become; while it’s true that he was trying to get Derek out of his house and to try to have some fun, he hadn’t planned on showing how much Malia leaving was still upsetting him.
(Although, truth be told, she hadn't just left without saying anything; he had received one text when he noticed that she was actually gone and not just out hunting. It had said, plainly and concisely, ‘I’m leaving. I may not come back. Don’t follow me.’)
His attention is drawn back to Derek when the older man sighs and pulls his jacket off the chair it was slung over with a look that tells Stiles he’s in for a lot of pain if he breathes even one word.
Stiles mimes zipping his lips, bouncing on his heels as he follows the werewolf outside, eager to see what a Derek Hale in wintertime looked like.
Turns out, a Derek Hale in wintertime is freaking adorable.
The first thing he had done, when they made it to the ground floor and out into the parking lot, was unknowingly mimic Kira from earlier that day by raising his face to the sky and just watching the snow fall.
There’s such a peaceful look on his face that Stiles doesn't say anything, just watches Derek watch the snow, before he notices he has an audience and stomps off down the road.
Stiles scampers after him, not sure how to apologize or if he really should say anything when Derek says, completely out of the blue. “Laura liked the snow.”
Derek keeps walking, and that’s the only reason that Stiles doesn’t freeze where he stands. After a few moments, he lets out a hesitant, “Yeah?”
There’s a long exhale and then, “Yeah. The last time it snowed we were in New York and she pulled me up to the top of the building to make snowmen and snow-wolves before the sun was even fully up.”
"Snow-wolves?"
"Kinda like snow angels, but not, because we were wolves."
Stiles gets the feeling that sentence was almost a direct quote, and he’s filled with the urge to just do something that he doesn’t really think through what happens next.
What he’s thinking of is the only snow day he ever had with his mom; it had almost completely dried up the next day, but there had been enough snow for his small hands to make lopsided snowballs and they had spent late into the evening throwing them at each other, much to his dad’s exasperation.
It’s with that thought in mind, and the small smile that had ghosted across Derek’s face when he had talked about his sister, that Stiles reaches down and packs up a hasty snowball before lobbing it at Derek’s shoulder.
It’s a direct hit. It should be, what with Derek standing only a few feet away, but he blinks at Stiles like he’s shocked that it landed anywhere near him.
Grinning, Stiles scoops up some more snow, reading up another missile as Derek shakes himself out of his stupor.
"Stiles…" The tone is threatening but that smile from before is back, lighting up Derek’s eyes as he asks, "Are you sure you want to start this with me?"
Oh, it is on!
This one is lobbed at his face, but Derek is already moving so it only hits his back, but Stiles is counting that as a win as he readies more projectiles while trying to dodge the one that Derek lobs at the back of his head.
It’s a pretty even tie, with Derek being quicker and more accurate, but Stiles waits for his moments and unleashes a huge payload at once, so by the time he’s panting-damn werewolf stamina!-they’re both completely soaked.
"Truce?" Derek asks, hands up and a smile that could light up the whole freaking neighborhood on his face.
Stiles squints at him, not entirely convinced; he had used that same strategy earlier to sneak a handful of snow down Stiles’ back, causing him to yelp and crush half of the ammo he had stocked.
Yet, it looks like Derek is just as ready to go back in as he was, so Stiles nods and allows, “For now.”
Derek throws his head back and laughs; a full, honest-to-god belly laugh that was even nicer than the smile had been, and it’s nearly impossible not to grin back at him.
Stiles doesn’t even try.
"Thank you." Derek says when he’s done, eyes sparkling with unshed tears from the force of his laughter, laugh lines crinkling at the corner of his eye. "Seriously, Stiles. Thank you for this."
"It’s what I’m here for, Sourwolf."
It may be the wind that’s starting to pick up as they head back, but Stiles could’ve sworn he heard Derek say, “Yeah. I guess it is.”