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It starts with a hesitant knock on his door. And when Derek doesn’t jump out of bed, fangs out, there comes a series of more confident banging.
“Derek! Pssst, Derek!”
“Derek, you awake?”
“Derek it’s Christmas!”
“Shit.” The alpha rolls over, struggling out of his blankets enough to glare blearily at his alarm clock. The bright red numbers cut through the darkness, and the innocent little six makes him want to murder.
“No,” he says loudly, and tries to go back to sleep. It’s too god forsaken early to deal with his betas. And “tries” being the operative word, because there’s muffled giggling and more banging on the door before it’s pushed open. Derek growls (even though it’s more of a groan) and buries his face in his pillow. Maybe he’ll suffocate. That sounds preferable.
“Go away,” he growls. But it’s too late and soon Erica, Isaac, and Boyd are crawling up his bed and either flopping on top of him or wiggling into his blankets. “I hate all of you.”
“You love us,” Erica giggles.
“It’s Christmas!” Isaac whispers excitedly, except he’s loud enough that it’s hardly a whisper. “C’mon, get up, it’s time for presents.”
Derek puts a hand on Boyd’s face and shoves him away, his eyes still closed tightly in vain. “No there isn’t. There aren’t any presents. Bad pups who wake their alpha before the sun don’t get any presents.”
The betas giggle and roll around on his bed more, seemingly unafraid of his steadily rising growling.
“Yes there are,” Boyd says, pushing around the hand and up under his arm. “I checked. There were only a few gifts under the tree last night, but now there are a lot.”
“Not for you,” Derek grumbles, rolling away and accidentally pressing against Erica, who cuddles up against him happily. “Those are for me. All of them.”
Isaac crawls on top of him, his eyes glowing bright gold as he gazes imploringly at Derek. It’s literally the most pitiful thing he’s ever seen. “But this is my first Christmas without my Dad…”
Derek groans, because the little manipulative shit is not seriously going to pull that. He’s really regretting his decision to turn a bunch of needy, clingy teenagers who have no concept of personal space.
“There are actually presents under the tree with my name on them. I don’t know how long it’s been since that’s happened,” Isaac adds, and Derek knows he’s lost.
“Fine,” he snarls and shoves the betas out of his bed forcefully. “Fine, you win.”
Erica squeals and kisses the tip of his nose before crawling over him, grabbing Boyd by the hand, and dragging him out of the room. “We’ll get your coffee started!”
Isaac smiles, suddenly no evidence of melancholy anywhere. So Derek throws him off; literally throws him into the wall because it’s six in the fucking morning and he’s not nearly awake enough to deal with this. Isaac hits the wall with a loud crack, but after a few heartbeats he’s up and grinning, shaking himself off before thundering down the hall and down the stairs.
“It’s Christmas!” he yells.
Derek sits up and rubs at his eyes, scratching through his hair. He briefly entertains the thought of burrowing back in his blankets, but he won’t get away with it for long, he can tell that much. Maybe he can slip some booze into their hot coco and they can all nap after breakfast. Just a few hours from now—he can make it.
Maybe.