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“Fuck, fuck, fuck, no.” Stiles said, staring up at the screen that informed him his flight was delayed another three hours.
He should have just hitched a ride with Lydia, he knew he should have. But he’d had a gig to finish and he’d been neck deep in code for so long that when she asked him he was thinking in strings of html and almost answered her in binary.
Now he’d have to wait four hours to see Derek, to see the pack, and he wished that he had just gone to Beacon Hills Community like most of them did. It was bad enough when he only had Lydia to keep him company, but all alone?
Stiles dropped into a nearby chair and tried very hard not to cry when he glanced up to see that his flight was delayed even more.
He was just starting to sniffle when a familiar scowl filled his vision.
“Derek?” Stiles squeaked, quickly trying to blink back the tears and failing. A few slipped out and he punched himself in the eye trying to wipe them off before Derek saw them.
He knew he’d failed when Derek’s frown transformed into ‘oh God where’s Stiles he knows what to do when people are crying’ and then ‘oh fuck it is Stiles crying’.
Derek awkwardly sat down next to Stiles and patted him cautiously on the back.
“Thanks but that’s not,” Stiles hiccupped, starting to cry in earnest. “It’s not, I know how uncomfortable touching me makes you, I’m just really homesick and glad to see you, I’m fine I promise. God, this is embarrassing.”
“Mongo no like see Stiles cry.” Derek said flatly.
Stiles choked laughing, burying his face in Derek’s shoulder.
“I swear to God I could kiss you right now.” he said, realizing a beat too late that Derek would be able to tell exactly how serious he was about that.
Derek nudged Stiles off his shoulder and Stiles thought fuck, this is it, my crush has officially gone over the line of acceptable, but then Derek nudged his chin up and Stiles saw that Derek wasn’t scowling.
“You should.” Derek said.
“I should.” Stiles responded, brain clogged up and trying to figure out what Derek could mean because he couldn’t mean what Stiles thought he meant.
“Yeah.” Derek grinned. “You really should.”
“Uh. I, um, that is-” Stiles started, but then Derek rolled his eyes and leaned in.
It was just a press of lips to his, skin on skin, but his entire body was frozen by how good it was. How right.
Derek pulled back, a self satisfied smile tugging on his lips.
“I thought I’d wait til New Years, but you seemed like you needed it now.”
“You-” Stiles sputtered, indignant and not even entirely sure why. “You fucker with your - your perfect hair and your perfect stubble and-”
Stiles crowded in, closing his eyes and kissing Derek desperately, furiously, the way he’d wanted to for years.
“New Years my ass, like fuck you should have waited that long for this to be an option.” Stiles panted angrily.
Derek grinned that stupid grin of his, the one that Stiles had only seen once before, when the pack graduated high school. The grin that said he was happy, that life was good, that he was amazed things in his life could be good.
Stiles’ heart ached with the realization that to Derek, he was a good thing.
“Oh.” Stiles said softly.
“What?” Derek asked.
“I just -” Stiles looked around for something to say besides ‘I love you’. “It’s past midnight.”
“So?”
“Merry Christmas Eve.” Stiles grinned, reaching inside his pocket for his wadded up Santa hat he’d embroidered Alpha onto, and the matching one that said Emissary.
He shoved the Alpha hat on Derek and then put on his own.
“The stitching is terrible.” Derek said, raising his eyebrows, but not disturbing the hat.
“Thank you, I made them myself.” Stiles said proudly, sneaking another kiss.
Derek shook his head, still grinning like an idiot. “Merry Christmas Eve, Stiles.”