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Stiles tries for the third time to straighten his tie in the mirror, wanting to look good for Derek at the Christmas party but ultimately gives up, tossing it on the floor with a sigh. Sometimes he wonders why he even bothers, Derek’s in another league. It’s pathetic but he can’t help himself. If Santa were real Stiles imagines he would ask him to get rid of his hopeless crush on Derek.
Rather than decreasing with time, his feelings just seem to get stronger to the point that Stiles would almost rather not even be around Derek because he feels stupid when he blushes every time the werewolf gets within three feet of him. Let alone when he wolfs out. It’s all Stiles can do to hide how aroused he gets at the sight. He doesnt even want to think about what he must smell like to Derek. His feelings must be obvious and therefore must be unreciprocated.
For a moment Stiles contemplates not going to the Christmas party but immediately realizes that won’t work. He promised Lydia he would be there and she’s his closest friend. And it seemed strangely important to her that he would come. And if he lied and said he was sick she would see through him in a heartbeat. It’s a wonder she hasn’t figured out his crush on Derek, and he hopes it stays that way. He doesn’t want even more of an audience to his embarrassment.
Resigned to his fate, he tosses his tie on the floor and attempts to straighten his collar, eventually unbuttoning the top button. He looks himself over one more. Maroon button down shirt and tight fitting black slacks. He tries to make a sexy face in the mirror and immediately cringes. It’s just not who he is to be cool and dark and mysterious like Derek. They’re as different as two people could be. Derek could be on the cover of GQ. Stiles would more likely be the poster child for Nickelodeon.
He’s just about to leave when he something catches the light from the window. It’s a headband with antlers and jingle bells on it. Someone passed them out in Spanish class. He slides it onto his head and strikes a silly pose, making the bells jingle merrily. Now this is who he is. He can only imagine how much Derek would hate something so juvenile and gaudy. But it makes him smile so Stiles steps over the forgotten tie and walks downstairs to the party, jingling with each step.
The party is a loud festive affair complete with lightly falling snow outside. In between chatting with people and sipping holiday punch he stands at the window and watches the lawn slowly changing from green to white as the snow sticks. It gives him something else to focus on instead the tempting sight of Derek in tight black pants, and a pine green dress shirt with his signature leather jacket over it. He looks stunning and it’s all Stiles can do not to stare and drool. He’s so pathetic.
He’s soon saved from his dilemma when Lydia arrives carrying what must be ten bags of what appears to be presents and no doubt other holiday cheer. Stiles smiles wistfully, wishing he could be as happy as she looks.
She looks around the room and beams at Stiles when their eyes meet. She eagerly waves but then gets pulled aside by someone helping her with her bags and gets distracted.
He takes the opportunity to refill his punch and by the time he has taken his first sip Lydia has found him. She’s dressed to the nines, with a bright red short dress, strappy shoes and bright red shiny lipstick complete with a Santa hat.
“Wow who’s the lucky guy?” Stiles jokes.
She winks at him and says cryptically, “Oh it’s someone you know…”
”Really?!” Stiles’ mind starts whirring with the possibilities coming up empty. He has no idea she was interested in anyone and now he’s exceptionally curious.
“Who?”
Rather than answering she grabs his hand and pulls him insistently towards the doorway between the living room and the kitchen saying, “Come here I want to show you something.”
Used to humoring her whims, he allows himself to be towed along through the clusters of people until she stops them in the middle of the doorway, Cheshire Cat grin on her red lips.
Confused, Stiles asks, “Okay…what is it?” He looks around, not seeing anything warranting her excitement.
Conspiratorially she leans in close and whispers, “Look up.”
It takes Stiles a moment to see what she is referring to but when he does it’s too late. She’s brought him right under a sprig of mistletoe! And just as he lowers his eyes from the doorway Lydia is cupping his cheeks and kissing him! Which is both confusing and unwelcome. She’s his best friend but he doesn’t see her that way. He thought she felt the same…he’s starting to think he was wrong.
Before Stiles has time to back away a monstrous roar of a growl echos through the room, leaving stunned silence in its wake. Lydia breaks the kiss, turning towards the source of the noise as well.
And to Stiles surprise the growl came from Derek! He’s almost fully wolfed out, eyes glowing ferociously and fangs glistening…and staring right at them. The guests give Derek a wide berth. After a moment Peter approaches Derek but before he can reach him Derek snarls before he bolts out the front door.
Without thinking Stiles rushes after Derek. He hears Lydia calling out for him but doesn’t stop until he’s out in the front yard and sees Derek standing on the lawn in the snow facing away from him.
It’s much quieter out here but he remotely hears Lydia crying and feels a pang of guilt doesn’t go back inside. It’s so cold he can see Derek’s rapid breaths fogging in the air. He’s literally so hot Stiles sees mist coming off of Derek making him look even more ethereal.
Now that he’s out here Stiles hesitates. What is he even doing? He freezes mid step, unsure what he should do.
“Derek?” Like usual his mouth goes before his brain.
Derek whips around still wolfed out, eyes glowing and fangs out. Stiles can’t help how his heart rate increases at the sight.
“What are you doing out here?” The tone of his voice makes Stiles recoil, the words nearly spat at him.
”I…I don’t know. Maybe I should go…”
“Yeah go back to your girlfriend, it sounds like she’s missing you,” he growls.
“Girlfriend?” Stiles is confused. “Who? Lydia?” Then it clicks. “No no! She’s just my friend! I don’t know why she kissed me but she’s my friend, nothing more.”
“Just…a friend?” Derek looks at him briefly then turns away again.
“Yeah,” Stiles replies.
Derek doesn’t reply and the silence brings the ambient noise of the party back into focus. Stiles can hear Lydia crying loudly in the house and winces. Derek must be able to hear her too with his super senses.
Stiles really doesn’t want to go back in there.
“Can I stay out here with you?”
Derek turns back to him. His eyebrows raise in surprise and his shoulders relax a little. His eyes aren’t glowing quite as bright but he’s still wolfed out.
“Yeah sure…” he replies.
Stiles starts to walks the few steps needed to get to him but when he’s a step away he slips on some ice under the snow.
He braces for the impact of pavement but instead feels weightless as Derek catches him. Stiles remotely hears a jingle as his antlers fall off and hit the ground. For just a moment Stiles feels the hard heat of Derek’s strong body against his own and nearly swoons but soon enough Derek has righted him and steps away. Stiles feels colder than he did a minute ago. It hurts to be so close to Derek and then lose it.
Stiles is about to say that maybe he should go back inside, but before he can he feels a finger on his chin. His gaze is forced up and he sees Derek is close again. Stiles laughs as Derek puts his antlers back on his head. In response Derek cracks a small smile.
“There. That’s better,” the werewolf says.
“Really?!” Stiles is surprised. “I thought you’d hate these.”
“Wait so did you wear them just to irritate me?” Derek teases. “I don’t know if I should be pissed or flattered.” Before Stiles can come up with a response Derek huffs a small laugh, fangs almost fully receded as he looks away and says, “Yeah normally I would hate it…but I like it on you.”
“You do?” Stiles is sure he must be scarlet.
“Yeah. It’s cute.”
Stiles can’t tell if Derek is being serious or teasing him again but regardless he loves it.
“So you think I’m cute?” He teases back.
“Maybe…” Derek replies with a smirk as his gaze travels past Stiles back to the house. “If so I’m not the only one.” Derek’s eyes glow and his brow furrows as he unconsciously puts his hand on Stiles’ waist.
Stiles turns around and sees Lydia staring at them out the window still crying. He knows he should go comfort his friend but Stiles feels like he might actually faint as he processes Derek’s words. Is that what this is? Derek was upset that Lydia kissed him? Derek might actually like him back??? He hopes he isn’t wrong.
He stares at Derek and when he just continues to glare at Lydia Stiles carefully touches his stubbled chin, bringing his attention back to him. Stiles swallows thickly as he asks quietly, “Were you upset that Lydia kissed me?”
Derek swallows and nods. Stiles can’t believe it. Is it possible for his dreams to come true?
“…and you wanted to be the one to kiss me?”
Derek nods again.
Stiles carefully caresses the werewolf’s jaw. He leans in closer and whispers, “You don’t need mistletoe to kiss me.”
The words have barely left his mouth when
Derek surges forward, closing the distance between them and crushing their mouths together desperately, as if he has been holding back as much emotion as Stiles has all these years. Remotely Stiles hears the jingle of his antlers falling off again but they are just as quickly forgotten in lieu of the pure bliss he is experiencing.
Is it possible to die from happiness because Stiles wonders if he’s died and gone to heaven. Kissing Derek is even better than he ever imagined, and he prides himself on having a very active imagination!
“Ugh,” Derek says, breaking their kiss and Stiles stomach drops. He was so deep in his happily ever after that he forgot he could still fuck this up. Maybe he’s such a terrible kisser Derek has already changed his mind. He feels nauseated.
“You smell like her,” Derek says with a grimace.
It takes Stiles a second to process the words and then his stomach feels full of butterflies again. That can be fixed.
“I want to smell like you.”
The words have barely left his mouth when Derek growls and all but pounces on Stiles. He isn’t sure how it happens but the next thing he knows his back is on the snowy ground with a hot werewolf on top of him who is alternately kissing the living daylights out of him and nuzzling his neck, replacing Lydia’s scent with his own.
Their frenzy of kisses and tangle of tongues gradually transitions to a slow exploratory make out session, lips and hands wandering, huffs of breath visible in the cold air.
Stiles isn’t sure how long they have been lost in each other but he is brought back to reality when he starts to shiver. Immediately Derek stands them both up, takes off his leather jacket, and puts it on Stiles. Instantly Stiles feels better, warm and wrapped in the wolf’s scent. He’s seen Derek wear this jacket for years and never once thought he would get to wear it. As blissful as Stiles is right now it does make him wonder why this is happening now, because surely Derek has smelled his feelings for years.
Derek rubs Stiles arms a few times before pulling him close again.
“Can I ask you something?” Stiles says, hoping he’s not sabotaging himself but he’s rarely good at keeping quiet.
“Yeah,” Derek replies with a slight worried look.
“Why did never say anything before? Couldn’t you smell my attraction to you?”
Derek looks away for a moment, almost embarrassed as he says, “Well…in hindsight yes I could smell you but since you always smelled that way I just figured that was how you smell. I figured you were just always in a state of wanting something…I didn’t know that something was me.”
Before Stiles can reply the wolf continues, “And even if I had suspected you felt that way about me… I don’t know what to say around you sometimes. Everyone talks to you so easily and likes you. I didn’t think you’d want to talk to a grouch like me. You never really talked to me very much so I felt you didn’t like me.” It’s the most he’s ever heard Derek say.
“Sorry about that,” Stiles replies. “You just always seemed so out of my league it that it was easier to stay away from you. I didn’t want to face the reality of rejection.”
“You’re both idiots.”
They both turn in surprise as Lydia is standing next to them looking exasperated but much more composed than earlier.
“Lydia!” Stiles startles and feels Derek’s grip tighten. Derek’s eyes flash.
“I’m sorry I-“ Stiles starts but she cuts him off.
“Stop Stiles, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry. I was so caught up in my feelings I didn’t think of yours and that’s not how I should have treated my best friend. I don’t want to mess up our friendship over this.”
“Yeah…same,” Stiles replies.
“Wow you must be gone on him Stiles that’s the shortest sentence I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth!” Lydia teases.
Stiles just blushes as Derek’s grip tightens even more.
“What is it Stiles, wolf for your tongue?” She laughs at her own joke.
Derek growls and she steps back, laughter fading. “Alright, alright, I get the message. I’ll see you later Stiles. I want to hear it all. And Derek you better be good to him, I don’t care if you’re a werewolf I’ll hurt you if you hurt him.”
Derek growls again and she just laughs. “Alright guys see you later. Merry Christmas.”
She leaves. “Well now what?” Stiles shivers as he says it.
Derek holds him close again and rubs his arms for warmth. Before any suggestion can be made both of their attention is captured by the sound of Christmas carols. Before their very eyes a group of carolers appear walking in unison, huddled for warmth. Noticing they found an audience, the carolers stop in front of the gate and continue singing Silent Night.
Stiles turns in his arms and sways to the music, snuggling close to him, the werewolf’s warm front to his back and his strong arms wrapped around him.
Soon the crunch of snow alerts Stiles that they have been joined by others from the party. He can feel others eyes on him but for once isn't self conscious and just enjoys the moment.
Derek nuzzles his neck and says quietly, “You smell different now…happy?”
“Yeah…I really am,” Stiles says, eyes glistening with unshed happy tears.
“Merry Christmas Derek.”
“Merry Christmas Stiles.”