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Summary
"You know the rules, guys."
Stiles looks up, and sure enough there's a little sprig of plastic mistletoe fixed above the door, just like there has been every year since Stiles and Scott had decided that it would be awesome if their parents got together so they could be actual brothers, and mistletoe was a surefire method of making that happen. It hadn't worked, but the tradition had persisted.
He's already mentally making his excuses, but before he can voice any of them Derek is leaning in to brush his lips gently against Stiles', catching Stiles' bottom lip between his own in a brief but unmistakable kiss.
"Merry Christmas, Stiles," he murmurs, sliding past Stiles and striding off down the driveway, his hand raised in a wave goodbye in Scott's general direction.