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“Hey, Stiles,” Derek says when he answers the phone. “We’re still on for tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, of course,” Stiles says happily.
“What time should I be there?” Derek asks. “Actually, what time are Scott and Melissa coming over?”
“Er, about that,” Stiles says, sounding awkward. “Scott’s dad came into town yesterday, and they’re giving the whole family-dinner thing a shot.”
“So they’re not coming over?” Derek says, hesitant. “Do you still want me to be there? If it’ll be too much trouble—”
“Of course we still want you to come over,” Stiles interrupts. “It’s Thanksgiving dinner, you shouldn’t spend it alone. Also, we’re going to need some help eating all the food dad bought, since he was expecting to be feeding the bottomless pit that is Scott McCall.”
“You’re one to talk,” Derek says, smirking. “You want me to bring anything?”
“Well, I didn’t let my dad buy any dessert, so if you want some pie or something, you can bring that,” Stiles says cheerfully. “But otherwise, we have plenty.”
“Okay,” Derek says. “Too easy.”
“Oh, um, you can just come over at five,” Stiles says. “We should be almost done cooking by then.”
“Sure,” Derek says. “But is it okay if I come over a little earlier?”
“Yeah, of course,” Stiles says. “But you’ll probably be enlisted to help out in the kitchen, fair warning.”
“That’s fine,” Derek says. “I’m happy to help.”
“I know. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Stiles says, and he sounds so warm and happy that it makes Derek’s breath catch, and he almost misses saying goodbye.
*
Derek does come over early, and he ends up helping Stiles with his cranberry sauce and the Sheriff with his mashed potatoes. They joke about Stiles burning the rolls, and good-naturedly argue about the best way to cook a turkey. He doesn’t mind, though. Working together in the small kitchen, Derek feels like he’s a part of something, like he belongs.
The Sheriff claps him on the shoulder and says, “I’m glad you’re here, son,” and his heartbeat stays just the same.
“I am, too,” Derek answers quietly, his voice thick.
Then he hears a shout of delight from Stiles, who spots the pumpkin pie Derek made from scratch sitting on the side table. And when Derek whispers in Stiles’ ear that there’s an extra one back at the loft, just for them to share, Stiles actually hugs him, squeezing tightly.
It makes Derek feel like everything is right, like things are finally the way they’re supposed to be.
*
The food is amazing, but so is the company, and they all sit at the table talking long after they’re done eating. Derek feels full and content, happy to just bask in the family atmosphere as he relaxes in his chair.
But eventually, the Sheriff sighs and says, “Let’s get this cleaned up so I can go watch the game.”
Stiles groans, but he drags himself up out of his chair, and starts putting things away. “I’m not sure this is all gonna fit in the fridge, dad,” he says dubiously. But he starts trying to shove it all in anyway, and it makes Derek laugh.
The Sheriff gives him a little wink, says, “Derek, why don’t you take a couple of those containers out to the fridge in the garage?”
Derek cheerfully grabs the bowl of mashed potatoes right out of Stiles’ hands, and snags the green bean casserole, too. Stiles does manage to playfully elbow him in the side as he heads out, giving him a little smirk as he does.
Derek carefully puts the food away, but just as he’s about to come back into the house, he hears the Sheriff say, “So, when are you going to ask him out?”
Derek freezes with his hand on the doorknob, eyes wide. Are they talking about him?
“Dad,” Stiles hisses. “You can’t just say stuff like that!” There’s a long pause, and Derek would bet money the Sheriff is raising his eyebrows. “Besides, I told him it was friends-giving, not I-have-a-major-crush-on-you-giving,” he huffs.
“That’s a lame excuse, son,” the Sheriff says firmly. “Besides, how are you ever going to know how he feels if you never ask?”
Stiles doesn’t answer, just goes back to washing dishes, and Derek figures it’s safe to come back in the house.
It’s hard to pretend he didn’t hear, though. He finds his gaze lingering on Stiles, wondering.
The Sheriff leaves them drying the dishes, heading into the living room and turning on the tv. Once they finish putting everything away, they find him stretched out on the couch, eyes closed.
“Yeah,” Stiles whispers, grinning. “When he says he’s going to watch the game, what he actually means is that he’s going to take a nap.” He pats his stomach, lets out a little sigh. “Though I’m way too full to sleep.”
“Let’s go for a walk, then,” Derek says quietly, taking Stiles’ hand and pulling him toward the front door.
“Uh, okay?” Stiles says, trailing along behind him, looking confused.
They get halfway down the block before Stiles says anything. “Derek,” he says, after glancing repeatedly at their joined hands, “what’s going on?”
“I just wanted you to know,” Derek says carefully, “that if there’s something you wanted to ask me, it would be okay.”
Stiles’ eyes dart across his face, but he never loosens his grip on Derek’s hand. “…Like what?”
“Something I think you’ve wanted to ask for a while,” Derek says, and he can’t help his smile.
“Wait a minute,” Stiles says, tugging them to a stop and turning to face Derek. “Are you trying to tell me that I should ask you out?”
“If you want to,” Derek says softly.
“I—you overheard our conversation, didn’t you?” Stiles asks suspiciously, but he’s grinning.
“I have to say, ‘I-have-a-major-crush-on-you-giving’ doesn’t have quite as nice of a ring to it,” Derek says, laughing. “But I am definitely feeling it.”
“Oh my god,” Stiles says, eyes wide. “Oh my god, really?” He flails for a moment, then tries pull himself together. “Derek, would you like go out with me?” he says in an excited rush.
“I’d love to,” Derek says, squeezing their still-joined hands.
“Awesome,” Stiles says, beaming. “Can I kiss you?”
“Of course,” Derek says, stepping closer and gently cupping the back of Stiles’ neck. He tilts his head, kisses Stiles softly.
“I think I’m going to have to rename this holiday again,” Stiles says when he pulls away, winking. “I’ll change it to I-now-have-a-hot-boyfriend-giving.”
Derek just laughs, pulls Stiles into another kiss.