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Cozy Little Christmas

Summary:

Stiles Stilinski hates Christmas. Or, he hates the emphasis on family during the holiday season. Ever since his father died three years ago, Stiles hasn’t found a reason to celebrate Christmas. This year, his friends show him family is more than blood.

Notes:

This is very indulgent and written just for me.

Work Text:

Tears pricked at the back of Stiles' eyes as he glances at the calendar hanging next to his bed. He didn't have to look to know that today would be circled in red, with a note to call his therapist. Today marked the third anniversary of his father's death. A small escaped his throat as he rolled over. Maybe he could stay in bed all day? It's not like he had anything super important to do. The sharp trill of his phone interrupted his thoughts. He scowled as he climbed out of bed and snatched up his phone. 

 

"Hello," he snapped. 

 

"Stiles," Maria, his therapist, said. Her voice was bland and calm. "You missed our phone call." 

 

"Sorry," Stiles murmured, "I overslept." Maria tsked and Stiles suppressed an eye roll. 

 

"Just checking," her purposefully bland tone grated on Stiles' nerves. "I also wanted to see if you had any plans for this time of the year." Stiles crossed the threshold of his room, glancing around his small apartment. The air was cold, so cold he could see his breath.

 

"What, were you gonna invite me over for Christmas dinner?" Stiles let a sigh seep into his voice. He walked toward the kitchen nook, intent on filling up on caffeine. 

 

"I'm Jewish," Maria replied dryly. "I was merely going to suggest that you find something to do. You said that you find this time of year to be sad." Maria paused. "Actually, let me quote you. 'The holiday season is nothing more than a capitalistic playground. A voyeuristic time to watch others drown in expressive shows of wealth.'" Stiles could vividly imagine Maria's glasses perched on the edge of her nose as she read. 

 

"Well, I... uh... I." Stiles stammered. 

 

"I'm just saying," Maria soothed, "that perhaps the emphasis on family during this time of year might put a strain on you. Take the time to enjoy the company of those you love." 

 

"Yeah... sure," Stiles mumbled. "Look, I gotta go." He hung up the phone and pressed his back against the wall. The unmistakable sound of the window opening in his bedroom startled him. He could make out the shape of someone moving in his bedroom. He dropped to the floor, wincing as his phone slipped out of his hand. The person walked through the doorway, his bulky frame taking up most of the room in the doorframe. 

 

"Derek?" Stiles hissed, popping up from his hiding spot. "What... Why... did you just break into my house?" Derek at least had the decency to smile sheepishly. His cheeks were slightly rosy with what Stiles assumed to be the cold. 

 

"Yeah, sorry about that." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I rang the doorbell but you didn't answer, so I went around back to make sure everything was fine." Stiles scowled, turning his back to Derek. He set about making coffee, making sure to grab two mugs. 

 

"The doorbell doesn't work," Stiles grumbled. "And it's impolite to break into people's houses." 

 

"Actually, it's an apartment," Derek added helpfully. Stiles rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of coffee. 

 

"My point still stands. What kind of animal breaks into someone's living space?" Stiles turned to glare at Derek. "Nevermind, we already know the answer to that." Derek frowned at Stiles and plopped down at the small table that served as Stiles's dining room. Stiles poured two mugs of coffee, adding copious amounts of sugar and milk to his, and a splash of cream to Derek's. He passed the other mug to Derek, forgoing the table and sprawling out on the couch. Derek took a drink before frowning down at his mug. 

 

"Huh?" 

 

"What," Stiles snapped. 

 

"Nothing," Derek murmured, "you know how I take my coffee?" Stiles fought off the automatic defensive comment and rolled his eyes. 

 

"Yeah, with as much as we spent together, it was only a matter of time before I memorized it." Stiles hid the blush creeping up his cheeks behind the coffee mug. "Anyway, what are you doing here?" Stiles fixed his gaze on Derek. 

 

"Nothing, I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd swing by." Derek gave Stiles a very un-Derek smile. It looked like it physically hurt him. 

 

"You would think you'd be better at lying," Stiles mumbled into his coffee. "Scott sent you, didn't he?" He flicked his eyes up to Derek, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. What an odd thought. Stiles tried to picture Derek as a deer, but couldn’t picture him as anything other than a large wolf tearing a deer apart. 

 

“He’s busy at the clinic,” Derek sighed. Stiles rolled his eyes. 

 

“I’m fine.” He motioned to himself as if his torn sweater and stained shorts would testify to the fact that Stiles was fine. Stiles shivered under Derek’s gaze as his eyes roamed over Stiles’ body. He cocked his eyebrow and then frowned. 

 

“Look, we all know that this time of the year is hard for you, Scott just wanted to make sure you’re fine.” Derek looked down at the table, and Stiles had to suppress another eye roll. He knew Derek was right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. 

 

“And what? He made you check on me like a child?” Stiles knew he was being petulant, but he couldn’t help it. 

 

“I… uh volunteered,” Derek offered, standing to put his mug in the sink. He crossed the room and nudged Stiles’ feet out of the way so he could sit down. “Scott was just gonna call you, but I said I would check on you in person.” Stiles nodded, trying not to read too deeply into the way his stomach flipped at Derek’s words. 

 

“Oh,” Stiles sat up. “Huh.” He looked out the window, a frown tugging at his lips. Almost subconsciously, Stiles crossed the room to look out the window. The sun was weakly shining through the clouds. People bustled around the streets. Their shopping bag-laden bodies turn round like tops spinning. 

 

“Hey,” Derek’s warm voice was in his ear. Stiles was suddenly aware that Derek was pressed against his back. When had that happened? Stiles shivered, turning to look at Derek. Their faces were only inches apart. “I need to tell you something.” His breath ghosted over Stiles’ face. 

 

“What?” 

 

“I promised Erica and Lydia that you would have lunch with them today.” Derek took a step back, anticipating Stiles’ reaction. Stiles’ blinked rapidly before scowling. 

 

“I could strangle you.” He held up his hands and pretended to strangle Derek. “I don’t feel like going anywhere.” He sighed. 

 

“I know,” Derek replied, “But it’ll do you some good.” Stiles’ narrowed his eyes. 

 

“I’m going, but you’re coming with me.” Stiles left the room before Derek could reply, a small smile playing on his lips. 

 

***

Derek found himself squished into a booth at a diner about five minutes away from Stiles’ apartment.  Stiles was pressed against Derek’s side; a welcome warmth against the biting cold that swamped the diner every time the door opened. He looked over at Erica and Lydia. Their heads were pressed together and they were furiously whispering. He glanced down at Stiles who was watching the two women with a bemused smile on his face. Derek wanted to see Stiles smile more. He used to smile a lot. 

 

“…Derek,” Lydia’s voice cut through his thoughts. Derek turned to face the three people he was sharing a table with. 

 

“What?” He cut his eyes over at Stiles, who was trying to hide a smile. 

 

“She said,” Erica reached over to grab Lydia’s hand, “that we are together. Like dating.” 

 

“Oh,” Derek said, like the wise man he was. “Oh, congratulations.” Lydia and Erica smiled over at him. 

 

“I wanted to tell Stiles before we told anyone else,” Lydia said. “I assumed he would come alone.” She fixed Derek with a curious gaze; her eyes lighting up with mischief. Derek ignored her, taking a sip from his water. “I didn’t know it would be a double date.” Derek choked on the water. 

 

“Uh, this is not a…” he glanced over at Stiles. Stiles’ face was bright red and he was staring down at his lap. Erica giggled, brushing her hair away from her face. She lightly sniffed the air, sparing Stiles a sideway glance before looking at Derek. 

 

“She’s just joking. Jeez, sore subject.” Erica winked at Derek before leaning back in her seat. She turned her gaze to Stiles. “Anyway, we’re here for Stiles.” Derek watched as Lydia smiled warmly at Stiles. 

 

“How are you feeling?” 

 

Derek tuned the conversation out. It was meant to be a private conversation, he could at least give that to Stiles. He let his gaze wander around the small diner. He was almost envious of all the people in here. They lived in ignorance of the dangers lurking all around them. No monsters were lurking in the dark for them. The full moon didn’t offer unrestrained power for them. The allure of the darkness was just that, allure. They were… he was pulled from his thoughts by laughter. He turned and Lydia, Erica, and Stiles were laughing; tears were leaking from their eyes. 

 

“You’re sitting over there, brooding like Batman or something.” Stiles joked, bumping shoulders with Derek. “Whatcha thinking about?” 

 

“Uh, Christmas,” Derek lied, despite knowing Erica could pick up on it. Lydia tilted her head in a way that told Derek she didn’t believe him. He shrugged. “I haven’t really celebrated in years, and it’s right around the corner…” He trailed off, noticing the way Stiles sat up straighter. Derek could sense… excitement with a tinge of anxiety. 

 

“I was actually thinking about planning a Christmas party,” Stiles offered, shrugging. “I thought it could be fun to throw a party for the pack.” 

 

“In your tiny ass apartment.” Erica looked less than impressed. Stiles sighed, shrugging. Derek sent Erica a death glare. 

 

“We could always throw it in my loft.” Derek shrugged as he spoke, purposefully refusing to look at Stiles. 

 

“Really?” the other three spoke in unison. Derek rolled his eyes at their incredulous looks. 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

***

Stiles rolled his eyes as Scott came bursting through his front door. Allison came in a few seconds later. Stiles was kneeling in front of his coffee table, four home decor magazines spread out in front of him. A red pen was poised above a rather dashing Christmas tree. 

 

“Yes,” he huffed, “I’m busy.” 

 

“Yeah, we can see that,” Scott said. “Doing what?” 

 

“Planning a Christmas party.” Stiles circled the tree, scribbling notes beside it. Allison walked around to the opposite side of the table, picking up a magazine and leafing through it. 

 

“Scott called you like 15 times.” Her tone was good-natured, and she smiled. “He was worried.” 

 

“Yeah.” Scott’s voice was accusatory. “Derek said he was gonna check on you yesterday. He never messaged back.” Stiles stood up. 

 

“What? No, Derek came this morning. It’s still…” He picked up his phone and closed his mouth. He’d worked straight through the night. “Heh, I guess I didn’t realize how long I had been working.” Allison picked up another magazine. 

 

“Dude, you’ve written on almost all of these pages. What kind of party takes this much planning?” Allison laughed as she showed Scott the notes. “No white lights. Warm or multicolored only. White lights wash out my skin tone.” She looked over at Stiles and nodded. “They do, don’t they?” Stiles grabbed the magazine from Allison. 

 

“These are my personal notes.” He rolled his eyes but smiled. He really did feel better being around his friends. 

 

“Seriously, how are you?” Scott asked, dropping onto the couch. Stiles frowned, biting his lip. How was he? He was definitely not okay, but… better. 

 

“I’m better,” Stiles replied. “I just miss him a lot.” Stiles blinked back tears. “It was like my life froze for a while, but it’s getting back on track.” Scott wrapped his arm around Stiles, pulling him into a side hug. Allison moved to the other side of him, completing the group hug. 

 

“So,” she said as they pulled apart. “Lydia said that you and Derek seemed pretty close yesterday.” She waggled her eyebrows at him. “Need to tell us anything.” 

 

“Oh,” Scott said. “Really?” He scrunched up his face. Stiles blushed, ducking his head. 

 

“He was just being a friend,” Stiles smiled. “He’s nice when he’s not a hulking werewolf.” Scott rolled his eyes. Allison reached over to smack him. “Besides, I don’t think he likes guys. Hell, I’m not even sure how long I’ve known I like guys.” 

 

“Where is Derek anyway?” Allison leaned back. Stiles closed his eyes and thought back. He was taking notes when Derek said he was getting tired. Stiles hadn’t realized how late it was, so he told Derek to-

 

“I think he’s in my bed,” Stiles muttered. 

 

“Nope,” Derek said, leaning over the back of the couch. Stiles smacked Scott in the stomach. 

 

“You didn’t hear him?” he whispered. Scott shrugged and mouthed Sorry. Stiles rolled his eyes. “Good morning.” 

 

“Morning.” Derek’s gruff voice sent shivers down his spine. “Anyone want coffee?” A chorus of yesses followed Derek to the kitchen. 

 

“He was in your bed?” Scott teased, bumping shoulders with Stiles. Allison raised one eyebrow. 

 

“It wasn’t like that,” Stiles grumbled. “I lost track of time, and he said he was tired. I just assumed he wanted a nap.” 

 

“Hmm,” Allison shrugged. “He still slept in your bed all night.” She pursed her lips. Stiles opened his mouth to reply but shut it when Derek pressed a mug into his hand. He took a sip, noting the insane amount of sugar, and the perfect coffee-milk ratio. It was perfect. 

 

“Sorry,” Derek said, “I don’t know how you two take your coffee.” He smiled apologetically. 

 

“It’s fine,” Scott jumped up. “Here, take my seat. Allison and I can make our own coffee.” Derek shrugged, sitting next to Stiles. They were so close that Stile could feel the heat rolling off Derek’s body in waves. He shivered. Allison shot him a look as she and Scott made their way into the kitchen. 

***

“So,” Stiles rubbed his hands together. “Today, I need to get the tree, lights, and some of the decorations.” He caught Derek smiling down at him. “What?” 

 

“Nothing.” Derek shrugged as they climbed into Stiles’ jeep. Stiles huffed, starting the car and backing out. After Scott and Allison left, he nagged Derek into helping him with errands. Their first stop was a small row of Christmas shops downtown. They drove in comfortable silence for a while. Stiles glanced over and caught Derek staring at him. 

 

“How did you sleep?” Stiles asked. “I know the bed sucks.” Derek shrugged. 

 

“I slept fine.” Derek smiled as he said this. Stiles huffed. 

 

“Stupid wolf healing powers,” he grumbled as he turned into the parking lot. Derek rolled his eyes as he unbuckled. “It’s not fair.” Stiles pointed at Derek then himself. “The mattress is so thin that it hurts my back, but your healing powers stop you from even feeling it.” 

 

Derek leaned over; his face was centimeters away from Stiles. 

 

“Stiles.” His voice reverberated between them. 

 

“Yeah,” Stiles breathed. Derek gave him a wolfish grin. 

 

“Get out of the car.” Derek unbuckled Stiles’ seat belt and climbed out of the Jeep. Stiles took a deep breath and followed Derek down the street. 




Stiles held up two boxes of Christmas lights, inspecting each one.  He sighed before dropping both into the cart. Thank God for life insurance, right? He sighed and rubbed his temples. He could feel a migraine coming. 

 

“Hey, what do you think about a secret Santa?” Stiles asked as he picked up a box of garland. When Derek didn’t answer he looked over at him. “Derek?” Derek was staring intently out the front window of the shop. Stiles peeked over his shoulder. Scott was sitting on a bench, arm wrapped around… someone. Stiles couldn’t help the noise of surprise that left his mouth as Scott leaned over and kissed him. 

 

“Isaac,” Derek mumbled. Stiles frowned. His frown deepened as Allison came strolling over to them. 

 

“Oh shit,” Stiles mumbled as Allison stopped in front of them. “How is Scott gonna explain…” He stopped as Allison pulled bent down and kissed Scott before pressing a quick peck on Isaac’s lips. 

 

“Huh,” Derek and Stiles said in unison. 

 

“Good for them. I’ll tell Scott to invite both.” Stiles kept walking. “Which brings me back to the question, should we do secret Santa?” 

 

“Sure,” Derek’s reply came from an aisle over. “I’ll have everyone come over tonight to draw names.” Stiles rounded the corner to find Derek holding a set of Santa figurines. Stiles rolled his eyes as Derek dropped them in the cart. 

 

“What? They’re festive.” Derek shrugged. 

 

***

Derek watched as Stiles walked between two trees. He’d spent the last 30 minutes going between the two. Thankfully, he had locked onto two trees that were precut. It wouldn’t be difficult to cut a tree down, but he didn’t feel it. 

 

“Stiles, they’re almost identical. Please just pick a tree,” Derek huffed, leaning against a tree. Stiles slowly turned; if looks could kill, Derek would have been struck dead on the spot. He smiled over at Stiles. 

 

“They are not the same,” Stiles huffed, slinking over to Derek. “They’re very different, and I need to pick the right one so our party is perfect.” Derek groaned. 

 

“Stiles, I promise that whatever tree you pick will be perfect.” Derek frowned as Stiles shivered. “You’re cold.” He shrugged out of his jacket and handed it to Stiles. “Here.” 

 

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Stiles huffed, shaking his head. Derek scowled at him, and Stiles slid the jacket over his arms. 

 

“What about you?” Stiles resumed looking at the trees. 

 

“Werewolf body heat,” Derek explained. Much to Derek’s amusement, Stiles ended up picking a different tree than either of the ones he was looking at. 

 

***

Stiles reached his hand into the bag and grabbed onto the final slip of paper left. He eyed the room full of his friends, holding similar pieces of paper. Unfolding his, he read Derek. A small grin lit up his face. Everyone quickly devolved into chatting and hanging out while Stiles kept decorating. Hanging tinsel here and lights there. He had Isaac and Scott put the tree up, but he’d decorate it tomorrow. 

 

“Hey,” a voice came from over his shoulder. Stiles turned his head to look at Isaac. 

 

“Oh, hey.” He turned back around and adjusted the reindeer he bought. 

 

“I just wanted to say thanks for inviting me to join in.” Isaac shifted uncomfortably as Stiles nodded and kept rearranging decorations. “But why did you?” Stiles chuckled and turned to face Isaac. 

 

“You’re part of the pack,” Stiles shrugged. “And, I saw you, Scott, and Allison today. I’m happy for you guys.” Isaac blinked and nodded. 

 

“Cool, cool, cool.” He turned and walked away. He turned around and walked back toward Stiles. “Just don’t tell Scott you know until he tells you. He was worried about how you’d take it. Oh shit, we gotta go.” Stiles smiled to himself and continued decorating. 

 

Stiles stepped back, placing his hands on his hips. He had outdone himself. Derek’s loft looked like a magazine spread. 

 

“Stilinski, you’re a genius,” he muttered to himself. Stiles felt a warm hand rest on his shoulder. 

 

“Stiles, are you talking to yourself?” Derek’s voice felt warm and heavy, like a wool blanket. 

 

“All artists experience bouts of mania,” Stiles declared, turning to look up at Derek. 

 

“Sure,” Derek reasoned, “but it’s currently 2 a.m. and you haven’t slept since I woke you up two days ago.” Stiles suddenly realized he was exhausted. He hadn’t realized how long he had been going. 

 

“I didn’t realize how long I had been going for,” Stiles mumbled. “I’m gonna head home.” Derek’s hand pressed firmly on Stiles’ shoulder. 

 

“It’s not safe for you to drive,” Derek whispered in Stiles’ ear as he guided him toward the bathroom. I put a shirt and a pair of pants on the counter. Change and we’ll get you something to eat and in bed.” Stiles nodded and followed the directions Derek gave him. If his brain was working at full capacity, Stiles would’ve wondered why Derek already had clothes laid out for him. 

 

He stumbled out of the bathroom and directly into Derek. 

 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

 

“Here,” Derek pushed a plate with a sandwich on it into Stiles’ hand. “All you ate today was a gingerbread cookie. Eat this.” Stiles nodded and devoured the sandwich. It was delicious. 

 

“This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” Stiles mumbled around bites of the sandwich. Derek smiled down at Stiles as he finished the sandwich. 

 

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

 

Stiles let Derek guide him to the bed, his eyes already falling shut. Derek’s large, warm hand gently pushed him down. Stiles climbed under the covers and sighed. 

 

“Your bed is amazing, so soft,” Stiles sighed. Derek chuckled and started heading back to the living room. “Where’re you going?” 

 

“I was just gonna take the couch,” Derek murmured. Even in his exhausted state, Stiles noticed a blush creeping up on Derek’s face. 

 

“There’s plenty of room in the bed.” Stiles motioned to the far side of the bed. “C’mon.” Derek sighed and climbed into the bed. Stiles fell asleep with a smile on his face.

***

“Stiles,” a voice hissed. “Why have you forgotten me?” Stiles whirled around, looking for the source of the voice. “You abandoned your own father.” Stiles felt tears running down his face. 

 

“I didn’t Dad, I promise,” he wept. Stiles fell to his knees, crying out. He lifted his head. His father’s headstone looked back at him. “Dad, I’m sorry.” Hands burst out of the ground in front of him pulling him under the ground.

 

***

Stiles thrashed around, kicking and screaming. 

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he cried. 

 

“Hey, it’s okay. Calm down,” Derek’s voice was soothing. “Take a deep breath. It was just a dream.” Stiles inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling. He opened his eyes and Derek was staring down at him with equal parts concern and relief on his face. It finally registered to him that he was sprawled out across Derek’s lap with Derek cradling him in his arms. 

 

“I’m good,” Stiles croaked, trying to sit up. Derek’s grip was unrelenting. 

 

“I don’t think so,” he murmured. “You didn’t sound fine.” Stiles scowled up at Derek. 

 

“Literally, I’m fine,” he hissed. 

 

“I can tell you’re lying,” Derek replied, running his hand through Stiles’ hair. Stiles sighed at the touch, letting his eyes fall closed. 

 

“I dreamed about my father,” Stiles said quietly. “Or really, it was a nightmare. He pulled me into his grave.” Derek made a noise of sympathy. 

 

“When was the last time you visited his grave?” Derek asked. 

 

“His funeral,” Stiles forced out, silently begging his tears not to fall. “I’m a terrible son.” 

 

“You’re human, Stiles,” Derek sighed. “You’re not a terrible son.” Stiles scoffed. “But I do think you’d feel better if you visited him.” Stiles looked up at Derek. 

 

“I know you’re right, but I can’t do it alone.” Stiles averted his eyes, all too well aware of what he was asking Derek. 

 

“You won’t be alone. I’m coming with you.” 





Despite his promise, Stiles asked Derek to wait by the Jeep. He looked down at his father’s grave. It sat next to his mother’s. 

 

“Hey Dad,” Stiles croaked out. “Long time no see.” Tears fell unbidden from his eyes. “I miss you so fucking much it hurts. Every day it’s like a punch in the face when I wake up and you’re not there.” Stiles sank to his knees. “I just don’t understand. We live in a world with werewolves and evil magicians, but a heart attack is what took you out. It’s not fair.” Stiles fell over, sobbing. He beat his fists against the ground in rage. 




Derek watched from afar as Stiles cried. He pulled out his phone and sent out a group text. 

 

Meet me at the cemetery. Stiles. 

 

The rest of the pack slowly joined him. 

***

The cold leached from the ground into Stiles’ body, filling him with exhaustion.  

 

“Hey,” Scott’s voice floated from above him. Stiles stiffened and sat up. His eyes felt heavy and he wanted to be alone. 

 

“Scott,” he said wearily.  Scott shook his head and plopped down next to Stiles. He leaned into Stiles, wrapping his arm around him. 

 

“I just miss him so much,” Stiles sobbed. “First my mom and then my dad. I have no one left.” Scott’s arm tightened around him. 

 

“You’re my brother Stiles,” Scott said, “I’m always here for you." This brought on another round of tears as Stiles sobbed into his best friend’s shirt. 

 

“I feel like such a baby,” Stiles laughed, wiping his tears away. 

 

“It’s okay to be sad,” Scott murmured. “It’s okay to miss him but don’t let the grief consume you. We’re your family too.” 

 

Stiles felt arms wrap around him. He looked up to see the entire pack surrounding him. He cried even harder when Melissa McCall showed up. She pulled him into a hug and held him tight. 

 

Two hours later, Stiles found himself bundled up in a blanket on Derek’s couch. He looked around Derek’s decorated loft and smiled. Derek was bustling around in the kitchen, cooking a late lunch. Stiles had ended up sleeping for 11 hours last night. After the emotional scene at the cemetery, Stiles was both exhausted and starving. The scent of caramelized onions and garlic sent Stiles drifting into the kitchen. 

 

“It smells amazing,” Stiles observed, “I didn’t know you could cook.” Derek grunted in response. He moved Stiles out of the way, literally picking him up and setting him down three feet away. 

 

“This takes a lot of concentration, Stiles,” Derek mumbled. “Please stay out of my way.” Stiles rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath. 

 

“Fine, bring dinner to me on the couch,” Stiles called over his shoulder. He settled on the couch, shifting around to get comfortable. From his vantage point, Stiles had a clear view of Derek shuffling around the kitchen. Or, to be quite frank, Stiles’ had a great view of Derek’s ass. He had never been more thankful for a pair of jeans at the moment. They hugged Derek just right. His ass looked absolutely… Stiles shook his head, interrupting his train of thought. These were Not Good thoughts to be having about your friend who was so graciously putting up with your nonsense. Especially one who was allowing you to commandeer their living space for three weeks while you decorate and plan a party. Stiles groaned inwardly. He could not feel this way about Derek. 

 

Motion in the kitchen caught Stiles’ eyes. Derek was frowning down at a pot on the stove. He glanced over at Stiles, his eyebrows pinched and his nose scrunched. He quickly smoothed out his face. 

 

“Dinner’s ready!” He ladled the… soup into two bowls and carried them into the living room. “Here.” Stiles gently took the bowl Derek held out to him. He looked up to give Derek a smile, pausing at the warm look on Derek’s face. 

 

“Thanks.” He took a bite a bite if the soup and moaned… like actually moaned. It was warm and buttery and almost nutty. “This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.” Stiles dug in, aware of Derek’s eyes glued to him. He glanced up at the man standing next to him. “Aren’t you gonna sit?” He patted the couch next to him. Derek sat next to him and started to eat. 

 

“Seriously,” Stiles groaned, “who taught you how to cook?” 

 

“My mom,” Derek whispered into his soup. Oh. Stiles scooted closer to Derek, leaning into his side. They finished eating in silence. The only sound was the record player softly playing the old Christmas records Stiles insisted he’d buy for the party. 

 

“Man, I’m stuffed.” Stiles' voice broke the silence as he grabbed his and Derek’s empty bowls. He padded toward the kitchen, the stone floor freezing against his feet. “Thanks again for dinner.” 

 

“No problem.” Derek’s voice came from right over his shoulder. Stiles flinched and dropped the bowls. Almost imperceptibly, one of Derek’s hands caught the bowls. The other one steadied Stiles. 

 

“What the hell man?” Stiles grumbled. “How are you so freaking quiet?” He rolled his eyes are Derek opened his mouth. “Don’t answer that. I already know.” Stiles grumbled under his breath as he bent over to slip on his shoes. 

 

“What are you doing?” This time, Stiles was prepared for Derek to appear next to him. 

 

“Putting on my shoes so I can go home,” Stiles answered, standing up. Derek looked away, seemingly interested in the kitchen. 

 

“Oh, yeah… makes sense,” he whispered under his breath. He shifted around and glanced down at his feet. 

 

“What.” Stiles crossed his arms and leaned against the door. He tried to look into Derek’s eyes, but he kept looking away. “Most questions usually require an answer, Derek.” 

 

“It’s nothing. I just figured it was late. You could stay over if you wanted.” Derek rubbed the back of his neck and smiled. 

 

Oh. Derek wanted Stiles to stay over. 

 

“Okay.” Stiles shrugged and stepped out of his shoes. 

 

“Okay,” Derek echoed. Stiles nodded. 

 

“Yeah, but I definitely need a shower.” Stiles smiled over at Derek. “And I’ll need to borrow some more pajamas.” 

***

Derek sighed as he heard the shower start running. He should’ve just let Stiles leave. He had no good reason for Stiles to even stay. It was only 11. Stiles had definitely been out and about later than this before. Frowning, Derek stalked into the kitchen and started to wash the dishes. 

 

On one hand, he didn’t want Stiles to be alone tonight. Today had been emotionally taxing, Derek could smell it. On the other hand, Derek liked being around Stiles. Something about his uncontrollable energy was intoxicating. He and Stiles balanced each other out. Derek shook his head to clear his thoughts and started whistling as he dried the dishes. It didn’t matter anymore, Stiles was going to stay. Still whistling, Derek pulled off his shirt, he always got it wet when washing the dishes. He made it halfway to his closet when the sound of the bathroom door distracted him. 

 

“Dude, are you whistling Taylor Swift?” Stiles asked from behind him. Derek turned around with the intention of telling Stiles off but stopped at the sight of Stiles with a towel around his waist. Rivulets of water traced paths down Stiles’ chest. Derek was surprised at how muscular he was. They glistened under the thin sheen of water. Derek’s eyes followed the water, stopping at the towel. A smattering of hair peeked over the towel. Derek wanted to pull the towel away and… 

 

“Derek… you didn’t leave any clothes,” Stiles snapped. 

 

“Sorry,” Derek muttered. “I started washing the dishes. Derek turned around and grabbed something from his closet. He tossed it to Stiles. 

 

“When did you lose the shirt?” Stiles asked. Derek turned his back to Stiles.

 

“Oh… I was doing dishes and it got wet. I was about the put on my pajamas.” Derek turned around, Stiles was almost swallowed by Derek’s shirt. His hair was disheveled. He looked adorable. 

 

“No you weren’t.” Stiles brushed past him on his way to the bed. “I may not have wolf super-smell, but my spider senses are telling me I’m not the only one who needs a shower.” Derek frowned and sighed. 

 

“Whatever, I’m gonna shower,” he growled. 

 

“Good boy.” Stiles flashed him a cheeky grin. 

 

Derek exited the bathroom, a relaxed smile on his face. Stiles might’ve been a little shit, but he was right. Derek definitely needed that shower. He paused in the living room, caught between the couch and the bed. Sure, Stiles had wanted him to sleep in the bed yesterday, but that was a different day. Would it be weird of him to presume that Stiles would be okay with him sleeping in the bed? Derek was saved from his spiraling thoughts by Stiles. 

 

“We’re not doing this again,” Stiles huffed. “Get in the bed Derek.” 

***

Stiles was pleasantly warm. The bed was wonderfully soft, way softer than his own. The pillow was nice and firm. Granted, it was a little firmer than Stiles was used to, but it was nice. Two strong arms were wrapped around Stiles, holding him tight. He groaned as his pillow shifted under him. 

 

“Stiles, wake up,” a voice whispered. “Your phone is ringing.” Stiles groaned and attempted to bury his face deeper into his pillow. “Stiles, you have three missed calls from Maria. Who is that?” Stiles suddenly realized the pillow he was attempting to bury his face in was actually Derek’s chest. 

 

Stiles slowly sat up, blinking in the morning light. Derek smiled up at him. Stiles grinned down at Derek. 

 

“Morning,” Stiles whispered. Derek sat up and passed him his phone. 

 

“Here, call Maria back. I’ll make some coffee.” Derek climbed out of the bed. Stiles settled against the headboard and called Maria. The phone rang twice before she picked up. 

 

“Stiles,” she greeted. “You missed our video call this morning. How are you?” 

 

“I’m…” Stiles paused, watching Derek move around the kitchen. “I’m doing better.” 

 

“Wow.” Surprise colored Maria’s voice. “That’s good to hear.” 

 

“Yeah,” Stiles replied as Derek passed him a mug and climbed back into bed. Stiles mouthed therapist before taking a deep breath. “I visited my father’s grave yesterday.” Maria made a voice of surprise. 

 

“How did that go?” Her voice was even. 

 

“It hurt.” Stiles’ voice cracked as he held back tears. “But my friends were there. It helped me see that I’m not alone.” Unconsciously, Stiles reached over and squeezed Derek’s thigh. 

 

“That’s really good, Stiles.” Stiles could hear a smile in Maria’s voice as she spoke. “You’re making very good progress.” 

 

“I also took you up on your idea.” Stiles leaned against Derek’s side. “I'm planning a holiday party for my friends.” 

 

“That’s great,” Maria replied. “Look, I’ve got another call soon. Let’s talk about this at your next appointment, okay?” Stiles agreed and hung up the phone. He rested his head on Derek’s shoulder and sighed. 

 

“What?” Derek’s voice was quiet. He rested his head on top of Stiles’

 

“Thank you for yesterday,” was Stiles’ quiet reply. “Thanks for having everyone come to the cemetery. I felt so alone that I couldn’t realize I had people all around me.” 

 

“Even Erica?” Derek joked. 

 

“Even Erica.” 

 

After 30 minutes of lounging in bed, Stiles and Derek got ready for some more shopping. Stiles ended up borrowing Derek’s clothes which were comically big on him. The next week passed in a blur of tinsel and glitter. Stiles and Scott transformed Derek’s loft into a veritable winter wonderland. Every wall in the loft was made to look like snow-covered trees. Fake snow drifts were added in corners. Snowflakes were hung from the ceiling. Allison and Isaac sprayed fake snow on the windows. Boyd stopped by to add another Christmas tree to the mix. Erica and Lydia were there to veto any of Stiles’ ideas that were too ridiculous. And through it all, Derek was there. He made sure Stiles slept and ate. He took him on 3 a.m. shopping trips. Where Stiles was, Derek also was. In fact, Stiles hadn’t slept at his apartment since Derek came to check on him. 

 

3 Days Until The Party 

 

“Uh huh,” Stiles mumbled, bracing against the cold as he left the store. He shifted his phone to the other hand. “Yes, and ask Scott to ask Melissa to make a pie, please.” 

 

“Stiles, you can’t ask her for a pie and not invite her,” Allison huffed. Stiles frowned down at his phone. 

 

“Of course she’s invited. Why wouldn’t she be?” Stiles could see Derek walking toward him from the periphery of his vision. “Alright bye.” Stiles hung up the phone as Derek fell in line with him. 

 

“I think I’ve got everything.” Derek hefted three bags up. 

 

“Great,” Stiles slipped his arm through Derek’s and steered him toward the Jeep. “I just got off the phone with Allison. It should be smooth sailing after today.” The keys slipped from Stiles’ numb hands. He knelt down to grab them when something furry caught his eye. He quickly grabbed the keys and tossed them up to Derek. 

 

“Stiles, what are you doing?” 

 

“Shh,” Stiles hissed, laying on his stomach and crawling under the car. He crawled out the other side with a kitten in his arms. He gently kissed her coal-black face. “Look, Derek, she’s so cute.” Stiles held the kitten out for Derek to see. Derek took a few steps back. 

 

“Cats and I don’t tend to get along because of…” He trailed off and motioned to himself. 

 

“Nonsense,” Stiles cooed, placing the cat in Derek’s arms. The kitten mewled before snuggling into his arms. “See, how cute!” Stiles pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of Derek and the kitten. “Hold her while I drive.” Stiles pulled the keys from Derek’s hand and opened the door for him. They drove in silence for a while. 

 

“Where are we going?” Derek asked, nuzzling the kitten’s neck. 

 

“To Deaton’s office,” Stiles sighed. “I want to keep her, but my apartment building has a strict no-pets policy.” Stiles frowned the entire way to the office and didn’t stop even when he was climbing the stairs to Derek’s loft. 

 

“Hey.” Derek placed his hand on Stiles’ lower back and gently pushed him into the apartment. “We can go visit her when Deaton’s office reopens.” Stiles nodded. 

 

“Yeah, that’ll be nice.” He grabbed the bags from Derek and started unpacking. “Okay, this should be the last of the decorations. Everyone will bring the food over on the day of the party.” Derek nodded as Stiles started putting the decorations up. “I’ll come by two days after Christmas to clean everything up.” 

 

“What?” Derek stepped in front of Stiles, taking the snow globe from his hands.

 

“Well,” Stiles ducked his head, “I planned the party for the 22nd so that everyone has plenty of time to celebrate with their family. I figured you and Cora would celebrate together. So I’d swing by after to clean everything up.” Stiles tried to brush past Derek. His iron-like grip stopped Stiles in his tracks. 

 

“You’re celebrating Christmas with us,” Derek all but growled. 

 

“I’ve already been here for almost three weeks. I don’t want to intrude on your Christmas.” Stiles ducked his head. 

 

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice caught in his throat, “Stiles. I want you here.” He gently grabbed Stiles’ chin and made Stiles look at him. “Please.” Stiles looked into Derek’s eyes and saw the desperation in them. Stiles nodded. 

 

“Okay,” he whispered. Derek slumped forward, resting his forehead against Stiles’. Stiles closed his eyes, hoping he wasn’t reading the signals wrong. He leaned forward, gently pressing his lips against Derek’s. Derek’s hands slid around, to press Stiles against him. Stiles brought his hands up to cup Derek’s face. Kissing Derek was like everything Stiles had hoped it would be. Derek was solid and warm against him, their lips slotted together perfectly. A whimper escaped Stiles’ throat as Derek’s hands slid down his back. Stiles’ hands migrated to wrap around Derek’s waist. A bright flash shocked Stiles. He pulled away to see Cora with her phone out. 

 

“Cora,” Derek growled. He pressed his face into Stiles’ neck. 

 

“Sorry,” Cora laughed. “I take it that Stiles accepted our invitation?” Stiles nodded. 

 

“Thanks.” 

 

“No problem.” Cora held a box wrapped in green and gold wrapping paper up. “I was swinging by to drop off Allison’s present.” She placed it on the counter. “Be careful. It’s sharp.” She closed the door behind her on her way out. 

 

“Did your sister, who is a werewolf, buy a werewolf hunter knives?” Stiles shook his head. “She’s crazy.” Derek laughed into Stiles’ neck, sending shivers down his spine. Derek gently nibbed at Stiles’ neck. Stiles let out an embarrassing whine. Stiles could feel Derek grinning. 

 

Derek scooped Stiles up and carried him bridal style into the bedroom. 



Christmas Party

 

The party was in full swing. Music drifted through the air. The scent of cinnamon and pine was heavy in the air. Stiles stood in the corner, nursing a drink. A small smile played on his lips as he watched his friends. Isaac was currently dancing with Melissa. Laughter lit up both of their faces. Lydia and Erica were mixing drinks. Boyd and Cora were arm wrestling. Allison and Scott were whispering to each other. And Derek was… where was Derek? Stiles pushed away from the wall, frowning. He crossed the room, placing his empty cup on the counter. Erica wrinkled her nose. 

 

“Ugh, you smell like sex,” she sniffed. Stiles grabbed the collar of his shirt and sniffed. 

 

“What are you talking about,” he frowned. “I showered.” Lydia barked out a laugh. 

 

“Oh my God,” she scoffed. “I knew it. Scott owes me 30 bucks.” She smiled over at Stiles. “So how long?” 

 

“Just last night,” Stiles mumbled. Erica let out a low whistle. Stiles groaned and picked up another drink. “This is my party. I could kick you out.” 

 

“You wouldn’t though.” Erica pressed a kiss to his cheek and ruffled his hair. “Love you, Stiles.” He rolled his eyes and scanned the room for Derek. While the loft was bigger than his apartment, it wasn’t enormous. Derek didn’t have that many places to hide. 

 

“So,” Melissa said, moving to stand next to Stiles, “Scott told me that you and a certain werewolf have gotten close.” Stiles groaned. 

 

“You too?” He tried to hide his crimson cheeks behind his hand. 

 

“I’m just teasing,” she laughed. “But know that if he breaks your heart, I’ve got a silver butter knife with his name on it.” She pulled Stiles into a hug. He didn't have the heart to tell her that silver didn't actually hurt werewolves. “Love you kiddo.” 

 

“Love you too,” he murmured into her hair. She pulled away and patted his cheeks with a smile. Stiles glanced down at his phone; it was later than he thought. It was about time to open presents. Where was- 

 

“Hey,” Derek whispered into his ear. Stiles smiled and gave Derek a light peck on the cheek. He didn’t miss Scott’s look of shock. 

 

“Alright everyone, present time!” Stiles knelt down next to the tree and began passing presents around. “Go ahead and open them.” He watched with a satisfied smile as everyone tore into their presents. Thankfully, he had remembered last minute to grab Melissa a present, a light cashmere sweater that looked warm. Aside from Allison’s knives, everyone pretty much got typical presents: candles and gift cards abound. Stiles was more focused on Derek than anyone else. He had spent a long deciding what to get him, before settling on something. 

 

Derek carefully tore open the wrapping paper on his box. He pulled out several picture frames. There was a picture of him and Cora. A picture of Boyd and Isaac posing next to a sleeping Derek. A picture of Allison pinning him to the ground. A picture of the entire pack. The picture Stiles took of Derek and the kitten. The picture Cora took of Derek and Stiles kissing. The final picture was slightly charred but carefully framed. It was a picture of his family from before the fire. Derek didn’t realize he was crying until a tear dropped onto the frame. 

 

“I hope you like it,” Stiles said shyly. “I noticed that you didn’t really have any pictures up. I thought we should change that.” Derek shifted the picture frames off his lap and pulled Stiles into it. He gently kissed Stiles. 

 

“Thank you.” Derek grinned down at Stiles. 

 

“This is sweet and all,” Cora grumbled. “But if I have to watch my brother make out with his boyfriend I’m gonna vomit.” Derek rolled his eyes but let Stiles up. 

 

“Also,” Lydia drawled out. “Stiles didn’t get a present.” Derek blushed as he stood up. 

 

“That’s on me. His gift isn’t ready yet.” Stiles slipped his hand into Derek’s. 

 

“It’s okay. You guys are the only present I need.” Stiles beamed at his family. 

 

“Boo!” Isaac called. “Too cheesy.” Everyone burst into laughter. 

 

Christmas Day 

 

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek, pulling him in tighter. He pressed a kiss to the base of Derek’s skull. 

 

“Good morning,” Stiles whispered. Derek gripped onto Stiles’ hands. 

 

“Good morning.” Derek’s voice was rough with sleep. Stiles snuggled in tighter. “How’d you sleep?” 

 

“Wonderful,” Stiles answered. “I never want to sleep in my bed again. I hate my mattress.” Derek rolled over and pulled Stiles against his chest. 

 

“You better be decent,” Cora yelled from the living room. “I’m coming in.” Stiles barely had a moment to prepare before Cora launched herself onto the bed. “Merry Christmas!” Stiles rolled his eyes as she reached up to pat his head. 

 

“Merry Christmas Cora.” Derek couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice. 

 

“Merry Christmas.” Stiles smiled over at Cora. 

 

“So, when am I getting a niece or a nephew?” Cora batted her eyes innocently. Stiles snorted as Derek went red. 

 

“Yeah, that’s my cue to make breakfast.” Stiles crawled out of bed and slipped on a pair of Derek’s slippers. Humming lightly, Stiles set about making breakfast. 





“Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to have Stiles make breakfast,” Cora coughed, waving her hand to clear the smoke. 

 

“Sorry,” Stiles winced. “I got distracted.” 

 

“It’s okay,” Derek sighed. “Coffee and frozen waffles sound good to me.” Derek made the coffee while Stiles popped the frozen waffles into the toaster. 

 

They took their food to the couch. Stiles hopped up and ran into the bedroom. 

 

“What?” Cora asked. Derek just shrugged and smiled. 

 

“Here.” Stiles came running into the room. He passed a box to Cora. He watched in anticipation as she opened it. 

 

“Thanks.” Cora held up a dark grey vest. 

 

“It’s a special Kevlar blend,” Stiles added. “It’s supposed to be extra durable and strong.” Cora smiled. 

 

“I also have a present for someone.” Derek set his plate down and walked to the bathroom. Stiles shot Cora a concerned look. She just shrugged and continued eating. “Stiles,” Derek yelled from the bathroom. “Close your eyes.” Stiles obliged. Someone took the plate from Stiles’ hands. Something warm and wriggly was placed in his lap. Stiles opened his eyes and peered down at a black kitten wearing a red bow. It was the same kitten he'd found under his Jeep.

 

“Oh,” Stiles breathed. “Derek.” Stiles picked up the kitten and began nuzzling it. “Who’s a pretty kitty? You are.” He gently kissed the kitten on the nose. The bow fell off to reveal a green collar. Stiles looked at the collar, and read the name tag. Laura. He smiled. 

 

“I can’t have a kitten,” Stiles muttered. “My apartment won’t allow it.” 

 

“Here’s my present,” Cora mumbled around a mouth full of waffles. She tossed something at Stiles, and he barely caught it. It was a silver key. Stiles held it up. “It was my key to the loft.” Stiles looked at Derek. 

 

“What?” Derek smiled at Stiles’ confused look. 

 

“The kitten is going to live here. The key is so that you can come and go whenever you want.” Derek smiled hesitantly as he sat next to Stiles. 

 

Stiles pulled Derek and Cora into a group hug. He let them go and snapped a picture of the kitten to send to Scott. Maybe Stiles didn’t need to hate Christmas.