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There’s a strange caterwauling coming from the northernmost part of the Preserve and Derek isn’t really sure if he should go and investigate the noise or let whatever it is just die in peace…
It’s not until he gets closer and the caterwauling gets louder that he realizes that it’s someone singing and that they’re doing it badly.
Huffing out a breath at the fact that he has to order drunken teenagers off of his family’s property instead of hunting down a Christmas tree like he wanted, Derek makes it over the hill that is blocking his view, the noise becoming ever clearer with each step he takes.
Hark all they got
Tales seem to flow
Gin tinkling
More Chardonnay
Christmas is here
Drinking the cheer
Ice cubes are cold
More Cuervo Gold
Don’t be a dink
Watch what you drink
Don’t be a dork
Don’t pop the cork
Don’t take the wheel
Don’t be a heel
Don’t grab the stick
Don’t be a dick
That’s… not how he remembers that song going…
He makes it over the crest of the hill just in time for the chorus, which seems to just be a repeat of ‘Don’t drink and drive’, and to see that the culprit is none other than Stiles Stilinski, son of John Stilinski and the bane of Derek’s existence.
Stiles had just turned eighteen this year and had seemed to make it his life goal to loudly moan about his nonexistent love to his father nearly every day, making inappropriate innuendos every time Derek had walked into the Sheriff’s office to report on whatever ‘big crime’ that had happened that day.
It was frustrating, not only because Derek knew that Stiles was teasing him on purpose, but also the fact that-no matter how cheesy the line-Derek could never think of something to say other than a growl about how Stiles was wasting police time and that he could bother his father at home, not when they were on a job.
Considering the fact that the most excitement they ever had was a slight fender-bender on 5th, Stiles wasn’t really wasting anyone’s time, but the point of the matter still stood.
"Your father is going to kill you when he finds out you’ve been drinking his scotch."
Stiles starts so badly that chokes on the next line in his song, his body-his nice, lean body-flailing so badly he almost brains himself on the tree he uses to pull himself to a standing position.
"Derek Hale! If it isn’t my favorite deputy! What are you doing out here all on your lonesome?"
"I live here, which is private property, by the way. What are you doing here?”
"I knew that you lived in the woods, surviving off nature; you’re way too beefy to live in a house with electricity like the rest of us mortals.” Stiles’ eyes drag over Derek’s body in a caress he can almost feel, heat rushing to his face as Stiles continues on, blithely unaware of the effect he has-and always did, even before it was considered legal-on Derek. “What hapless animal are you going to murder for dinner tonight?”
"I don’t live in the woods, Stiles, they’re part of my family’s land." Derek is very proud of himself when his voice doesn’t crack as Stiles blinks him, tongue coming out to wet his lips and making Derek feel like an asshole whose objectifying someone not completely sober. "And I’m not hunting dinner, I’m just getting a Christmas tree."
The first thing at Christmas
That’s such a pain to me
Is finding a Christmas tree!
Stiles’ voice is off-key and slurred, his waving arms almost causing him to lose his balance before he remembers that he needs a nearby tree to stand, grinning dopily at Derek when he tightens his grip on it.
"Where’s Scott?" Stiles always comes with Scott, the pair of them causing Derek trouble all through the time they were at school and his mother told him he had to be nice to ‘Melissa’s son and that nice Stilinski boy’.
"On a date with his girlfriend, because he’s an adorable puppy that can score all the ladies. I’m just the loser that brings the mood down.”
"Where’s your phone?" Derek has to fight off the urge to call Scott and yell at him for abandoning his friend for some girl; the only thing that’s stopping him is that he knows Stiles, and the idiot probably sexiled himself.
"Don’t know. Got lost. Fell out and got lost in the dirt. Can’t find it ‘cause m’flashlight is on m’phone."
Sighing through his nose, Derek moves the axe he’s holding to his other hand and tugs on Stiles’ arm, ignoring the flex of muscle he can feel under his palm. “Come on, we’re going to my house and calling the sheriff so that he can come and get you.”
"Dude, I left the house so he wouldn’t have to deal with this, don’t be a dick and call him, flushing all my hard work down the toilet!”
Stiles is surprisingly stubborn about not letting go of the tree despite how much he was swaying earlier, and Derek gets frustrated after a few pulls, not wanting to hurt Stiles and have him press assault charges.
“Fine!" Derek releases Stiles so fast that he sways dangerously before righting himself, shooting Derek a look like this entire thing is his fault, which just makes Derek bare his teeth back at him. "You have until I find my tree to sober up enough to find your way out of here on your own, because I know you’re smart enough to not drink and drive. If you’re still telling a tree that’s stuck in the ground to stop moving-"
Stiles’ mouth clicks close at that.
"-I’m dragging your ass back to the house whether you like it or not and I am calling your father!” Derek finishes his speech by snatching the bottle of alcohol from where Stiles left it, hefting his axe over his shoulder, and stomping off in the quickest way he can.
There’s a few minutes of silence where Derek thinks that Stiles might be taking what he said into consideration before he says in a voice way too loud to be a whisper, “Hate to see him go, but I love to watch him leave.”
The third thing at Christmas
That’s such a pain to me
A low groan interrupts the singing this time, Stiles voice wavering as he finishes on a slight hiccup.
Hangovers
Serves the little shit right, Derek thinks vindictively, before sighing, trying to figure out a way to get Stiles back home without anyone seeing them and telling John.
That man only became scarcer after he started working for him