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Christmas morning starts bright and early for John Stilinski, given the fact that Stiles has yet to outgrow the habit of waking at the break of dawn to barrel across the hallway to his father’s room to make sure he’s awake was well.
Gladly, Stiles has outgrown the habit of bouncing him awake and just shakes him like a small earthquake instead.
"Come on, dad, it’s Christmas morning! Presents! Pancakes! Presents!”
"You know, someone would think you were still five years old with the way you’re going on…" John grumbles, but not unhappily, as he pulls himself out of bed to follow his son down the stairs.
"You’re never to old to appreciate a day where you get stuff for free! This is my favorite holiday after my birthday, after all!"
"Of course," John murmurs, reaching out to ruffle Stiles’ hair just to hear him squawk. "Now how about I make us some pancakes while we wait for the McCalls?"
"Excellent!"
John laughs at the look of utter delight on Stiles’ face and gets to work, only stopping to gripe at his son halfway through the meal when he starts texting Scott to try to make him hurry and join them.
After both families have eaten breakfast, they gather at the Stilinski house as per tradition to exchange presents, Stiles and Scott nearly crushing each other when the door opens to let the McCalls in.
Shaking his head at the boys, John orders them into the living room and in front of the tree while Melissa makes sure that Scott doesn’t drop the presents that had miraculously survived the bro-hug.
As they all settle themselves in, Stiles notices a rather large box sitting in the corner of the room and is just about to ask who it is for when he sees the name on the side and remembers the small package in his own room.
His father, on the other hand, doesn’t have Stiles’ perception-or rather, his angle to the present-and asks, “What’s that big one over there?”
"Oh, that one’s for the pack’s Secret Santa," Scott beams, obviously proud of his gift and not noticing Stiles trying to make him shut up with his eyebrows. "We were going to go over Derek’s loft after finishing opening presents here, if that was okay."
"I don’t see why not," John states, giving his son a look that means they’re going to be having a talk later. "It’s good that Derek is having people over, give the kid some holiday spirit from me, alright, son?"
"Yes, dad, can we open the presents now?"
Everybody laughs and begins digging in to the horde.
Stiles shifts on Derek’s couch and waits for the rest of the pack to get there, trying to avoid giving away how nervous he is to the werewolves already in the room.
His presents from his family had been awesome; he had received a new game from Melissa, a brand new laptop from his dad and this absolutely perfect shirt from Scott that had said ’Sarcastic comment coming in 3… 2… 1…’ that had the both of them laughing for a good minute.
He’s pretty sure that Melissa liked the beaker set that had ‘World’s #1 Nurse' written on it, his dad had scoffed at the card for a free prepaid day at the spa, and Scott had crowed at the shirt that stated 'I’m the Alpha now!' with a wolf howling at the moon on it.
That’s the difference between them and his Secret Santa; he knows what they like, what would get a chuckle out of them, and what would just make them roll their eyes… Despite the fact that they had a list to go off of, Stiles had been clueless on what to get his person for the better part of a week.
"Alright everyone, are we ready?" Lydia calls out, drawing Stiles out of his thoughts and making him start when he realizes that the rest of the pack had filtered in when he wasn’t paying attention. "Come over and get your gifts, then we’ll all open them at the same time."
Considering the fact that the presents had been sitting in the loft for a good fifteen minutes, the smells from each individual person should have worn off by now, or at least faded a little. Nevertheless, Stiles finds the one with his name scrawled across it and makes his way back over to the couch.
The others are ripping into the wrapping, cries of delight and surprise filling the air, but Stiles’ gaze unerringly finds its way to Derek, whose looking at the small package in his hands with a slight frown.
Granted, it is a lot smaller than the other gifts, the one in Stiles’ lap only a little bigger and thicker, but Stiles really hopes that Derek likes it, despite its small size.
Derek is a lot more sedate when opening his gift, not even using his claws to tear it open like nearly everyone else had-Lydia, of course, had used a letter opener on hers-and Stiles is pretty sure that his heart is going to beat out of his chest by the time Derek gets to the box that holds his gift.
As soon as he opens it, his face immediately transforms from a disgruntled frown to open shock, gently reaching in and pulling out a small wolf figurine.
Well, a direwolf figurine to be exact.
Derek’s gaze snaps up from the figurine to Stiles, not bothering to stop on anyone on the way, making him immediately duck his head to hide the blush on his cheeks.
He’s also grinning like mad, but that’s beside the point.
To avoid what would probably be an awkward conversation on how Stiles had remembered Derek’s favorite T.V. show from almost two years ago-it had been a debate between the two of them the summer before the Alphas rolled into town, taking place in between looking for Boyd and Erica-and rips into his present, curious to see what someone thought he’d like.
Apparently they thought he’d like a complete Blu-ray Star Wars set, with commentary from the cast and crew, as well as documentaries on how the movies were made.
There was only one person that had ever shown an interest in Stiles’ incomparable love for all things Star Wars and it wasn’t Scott-who still hadn’t seen the movies, the traitor-and it wasn’t any of the other pack still showing off who had got what.
Stiles raises his eyes back to Derek, who meets his gaze and holds it, despite looking as nervous as Stiles had felt only moments ago. He doesn’t have to for long, because Stiles can’t help showing off his grin this time, something warm growing in his chest at the small smile that spreads across Derek’s lips in return.
"Merry Christmas, Sourwolf."
"Merry Christmas, Stiles."