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“What’s that smell?” Derek asked, walking into the kitchen.
“Hmm?” Stiles looked up from where he was doing the morning crossword puzzle, sipping his cup of coffee. “What smell?” He watched as Derek looked around the kitchen, sniffing his way toward the scent, and ended up right in front of Stiles.
“What’re you drinking?”
“Coffee?” Stiles smiled and leaned in to kiss Derek. “Good morning, sleepy head.”
“Good morning.” Derek kissed Stiles again and licked his lips when he pulled back.
“I’m drinking this new coffee Lydia told me about. It’s pecan pie? Or something. And I put some hazelnut creamer in it. It’s delicious.” Stiles took another sip and offered Derek his cup. “You want a taste?”
Derek took the cup and sipped. “Wow, that’s good.” Stiles moved to pour Derek his own cup, prepared it, and handed it to him.
“When we were growing up, Laura loved nutty coffee flavors.” Derek smiled, thinking about how Laura always had different nutty coffee flavors to taste during the holidays. He never could understand why she loved them so much because he always thought that they smelled much better than they tasted. He thought he got it now. It was more about the fragrance and warmth that came with it than the flavor itself.
“Hazlenut was one of her favorites to torture me with during winter break.” Derek traded Stiles his cup back to take his own, taking another sip of liquid gold laced with hazelnuts and pecans. “And my mom always made pecan pie this time of year.”
Stiles put his cup onto the counter, pressing in close to Derek. “We can always make some pecan pies this year if you want. I’m sure everyone would love it when they come over for Christmas Eve and the pack party.” Stiles rested his hand on Derek’s chest, right over his heart.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” Derek replied softly. “Maybe we can try some different coffee too. In memory of Laura.”
“I’ll get the coffee if you want to text me a few of her favorite flavors. We’ll make it happen.”
“Thank you.” Derek pressed another kiss to Stiles’ lips, his free hand moving to cup the back of Stiles’ neck. He smiled, resting his forehead against his mate’s when they parted to breathe as warmth and love washed over him.
Derek missed his family and thought about them often, but it was easier now than it ever had been. With Stiles as his mate, home, and family, he’d been able to heal the wounds that had haunted him for so long.
“I love you, you know that?” Derek said as he stroked his thumb over the base of Stiles’ neck where his mating mark branded Stiles as his.
“Yeah, I know,” Stiles replied, turning his face in to nuzzle Derek’s neck and pressed a kiss against the mark at the base. “I love you too.”
It was all that Derek had ever needed and was thankful to finally have. A place to chase away his fears and comfort his heart. His mother always told him that home was where the heart is, but Derek could never see that happening because his home had burned. But now his home wasn't a place but a person. And he never had to worry about that again.
“Come on,” Stiles said with another kiss. “We have some presents to wrap and then we’ll go check out Magnolias and see if they have anything from local roasters that has a nutty profile. I can pull out the grinder from the pantry so we can use fresh beans.”
Stiles picked his cup up again and tugged Derek along as they walked into the living room, which was lit with a large tree that reminded him of the one his family always put up when he was a kid. The lights twinkled white, red and gold ornaments adorning the evergreen leaves, and it glittered as if it were gold.
Derek laced his fingers with Stiles’ as they set their mugs on the coffee table and settled onto the floor, gifts surrounding them. Stiles grinned and laughed as he picked up gifts and passed them to Derek, and Derek knew that Stiles loved to torture him with wrapping gifts.
He was, after all, a horrible wrapper. His paper was always too thick, his tape was always haphazard and he could never fold his corners down nicely, no matter how many times Stiles tried to show him how to do it. But his mate never let him put gifts in bags. It was tradition! He was required to suffer.
Derek smiled as he took the gifts that were handed to him and grabbed a roll of wrapping paper and invisible tape that was never quite that invisible and got to work.
He didn't mind, really, despite the show he put on with his protests every year. This was the kind of suffering that he could endure. Suffering that healed his heart instead of breaking it into a million pieces. A tradition that built his family and pack up every year, growing their bonds and love. And soon enough, they’d be welcoming a little one into their pack. Derek couldn't wait to see his pack grow and flourish. To see his pack thrive.
He picked up his coffee between presents and sipped, scenting pecans and hazelnuts, thinking of Laura and wishing she were there - where she should’ve always been. With home and family. With pack.
Derek promised himself he’d never lose any of those things ever again...