Fandom: Teen Wolf
Category: Romance, Humor, Christmas Fluff
Disclaimer: I don´t own them. Nobody is capable of owning them.
Summary: Stiles and Derek have a Merry Christmas.
Warnings: M/M, Slash
Feedback: Doesn´t scare me. :)
Released: February 2015
Word Count: 3.118
Stiles hated Christmas.
That was the day he missed his mom the most.
He missed the way she decorated the tree. He missed the scent of her freshly baked cookies. He missed the sound of her voice singing corny songs. He missed the way she took care of him when his dad wasn´t home. He just missed her so damn much.
This year it was just the same as every year. His father was on duty and his friends were busy with their own families. The empty house made him utterly sad. He couldn´t bear to stay inside. Instead, he went out to drive around in his Jeep, remembering when his mom would take him with her to visit the market or a close friend. He treasured those memories. Sometimes his mom had taken him to the woods, walking. His mom had loved the woods, its shades of green and flavorsome scents, and above all the touch of magic hanging around. Yes, his mom had loved to show him the beauties of that world.
So, no wonder he ended up here, no matter it was pretty cold. Floating mist colored the trees whitish and the wind howled around them like an invisible beast. He shuddered. He was mad to come here. He should go home where it was warm and cozy. He should have dressed more sensibly. Yes, he should have, because just now the sky broke open and snowflakes were falling down on him. Oh my God. He laughed despite all of his gloomy thoughts. Snow was a rare phenomenon in Beacon Hills. He opened his mouth to catch the flakes on his tongue. Every caught snowflake made a wish come true his mom had once told him. Yeah, right. Certainly not the wishes he had. Not even Santa could fulfill them. No offence, Santa.
He danced through the whirlwind of snow, getting closer and closer to the Hale property. He could spot the remains of the burnt down house in the distance. Not a very nice picture. Maybe that´s why Derek had left town. He didn´t want to be reminded of the past. Yeah. Like me. Man! He didn´t know why of all places he came here. Now he was even more depressed.
The snowfall turned heavier, thick but too wet to keep the flakes from melting the second they hit the ground. His hoodie was already soaked through. He stumbled towards the house. At least he could find some shelter there. Hey! He stopped. There was a light flickering in a window on the upper floor. What? No way. No fucking.... In awe he moved forward and stepped into a hole. "Shit! Holy shit!" His ankle! Graceless, he hopped around on one leg, hurting.
Seconds later Derek was at his side. "Stiles! What....?"
"...are you doing here?" Stiles grimaced, staggering around like a wounded cub. The constant snowfall was starting to soak through his pants. Unbelievable. A snow blizzard in the middle of California. So? What about Derek being here? Seriously? What the fuck! Was fate making fun of him that he always bumped into the guy? "Since when are you back?"
"I arrived yesterday," Derek said. "Uh... I didn´t tell anyone. I wanted to be alone."
Oh, great! "Got it! Don´t mind me. I´ll try to reach Scott or my Dad, and..." He yelped. His ankle hurt like hell. Oh, don´t be such a wuss.
"You can stay. Tomorrow, I´ll get the Jeep."
"You´re soaking wet and can´t walk like this. Come on." He grabbed Stiles around the waist and pulled him close.
"Okay, big guy." Stiles put his arm around Derek´s shoulder, fingers trembling, but not because of the cold, no, rather because he was close to the most gorgeous guy he´d ever met. Oh yeah, talk about wishes. He snorted.
"Nothing. Just a whiff of madness." He chuckled, and slipped. "Ow!"
"Careful." Derek leaned in, breathing onto his neck.
Oh.... His neck grew warm and tingly, and he clung to Derek like the wolf was a frosted Christmas cake fitting the holy day. Why did he feel this hot in the midst of sudden winter? Why did he hear bells jingle? Why did he taste such sweetness in the air?
They hobbled into the house and up the stairs. Stiles had never been up here. The sight of Derek´s room stunned him. There was a stove with a small fire, crackling, and a Christmas tree, decorated with red, blue and yellow balls. In between there were dangling little stars, and on top a big half-moon of all things. Electric candles. Yeah, for reasons, Stiles figured.
"I was just starting to eat. Are you hungry?" The table was already set for one person and a crispy chicken dominated the middle. The delicious smell lingering in the air and the low music coming from...wherever it was coming from turned him weepy. Holy God. Pull yourself together. "Yeah, sure," he croaked.
Derek lowered Stiles onto one of the two wooden chairs. Then he went over to a small cabinet to get a plate, a knife and a fork. "I haven´t go any ice but I´ll fetch some cold water from the well outside."
"Okay." Stiles peeled himself out of his red hoodie. Luckily his shirt was still dry. He tried not to stare at the clean and comfy looking mattress in the corner. Just a blanket. No pillow. A book was resting on the side. The room was tidy and warm and homey. The room temperature was almost a little bit too high. Carefully he hung his soaked hoodie over the chair. He didn´t want to ruin this place with messy things.
Derek came back, holding a wet cloth in hands.
"Jesus, Derek, this is amazing," he blurted before he could help himself.
"Thanks." The wolfman lowered his head and scratched his beard. Was he ashamed? "Let me take a look at this." He pointed at Stiles´s ankle.
"It´s not that bad."
"Fine." He clenched his teeth. Not because of the pain but for Derek touching him. His fingers twitched longing to ruffle the hair on the bent head before him. "How´s Cora?"
"She´s fine." Slowly Derek pulled off Stiles´s shoe and sock.
Stiles winced. No. He wouldn´t tear up in front of Derek. Not a chance. "Where is she?"
"She stayed with friends in South America."
"I didn´t even say good-bye."
"The ankle is not broken, only sprained."
"That´s good." Your hands are warm, like, so so warm. A furnace. Is this a werewolf thing?
Derek wrapped the cloth around the ankle and fixed it with a strip of tape. He got up. "That should do for now."
"Thanks." Stiles pulled his chair closer to the table. He was starving.
"Why were you walking in the woods at this hour?" Derek grabbed Stiles´s hoodie and hung it over a cord behind the stove.
"My mom. Christmas blues."
"And what are you doing here? Really? You have a proper home in town, or did you sell the loft?"
"No, of course not. Maybe I feel the same as you."
"Oh." He nodded fervently. "Christmas is the hardest, isn´t it?"
"Yeah." Derek fetched a brown bag from a board close to the oven. He poured the content on the two plates. Curly fries.
Holy God! Stiles could only gape.
Derek settled into his chair. "Do you care for my sister?"
"Sure. She´s cool." Stiles smiled, remembering Cora´s attitude towards him and how much she reminded him of Derek.
"M-m." Derek cut up the chicken. "Do you fancy her?"
"No," Stiles startled. "Not at all."
Derek raised an eyebrow. "Why not? Something wrong with her?"
"No. I just...I..." Oh shit! How did he get into this?
"There is someone else," Derek concluded.
Derek put half of the chicken on Stiles´s plate. "Who?"
What now, you idiot? "Nobody you know."
"You just met her then?"
"Enjoy your meal." Derek began to eat.
Stiles put a small piece of meat on his fork because he feared he couldn´t swallow at all so tight his throat felt, but the chicken tasted amazingly good. "Wow!" He relaxed and chewed with more pleasure.
Derek´s lips twitched. "I´m glad to hear that."
"That´s what I call a Christmas dinner." Stiles stuffed his mouth with a handful of fries.
"You don´t ask for much," Derek muttered between bites. He looked different somehow. Almost happy. That unexpected sensation made Stiles speechless and for a while they were just eating, not talking, which was oddly enough soothing rather than displeasing. Along with the food Stiles gulped three big glasses of water down, because of the heat in the room, not because he was nervous. Okay. Maybe he was. The last time he was this close to Derek was in the elevator shaft slapping him awake.
Soon he was feeling a natural need and he jerked up, hitting his ankle on the table. "Ouch!" Idiot!
Derek rushed around the table and grabbed him, holding him up. "Let me help you."
"I need to... I have to...you know..." Stiles flushed. Damn it!
"Okay," Derek deadpanned. They stumbled their way around the corner into a smaller room. "Could you leave? I think I can manage," Stiles signaled awkwardly.
Was there a hint of laughter in Derek´s voice? No. Derek wouldn´t enjoy this, right? Having fun was not in his nature. He made a scoffing noise, and relieved himself. Not that his dick felt any better now. Oh God. How would he get through this? He washed his hands and called for Derek. "Okay. Done." Derek helped him back and leaned Stiles against the wall. "Your pants are wet. I´ll give you some of mine." He rummaged through a big box. "Here."
"Right." He inspected the pair of sweatpants. How should he-?
"Sit." Derek lowered him down on the mattress. He unwrapped the dried cloth and put it aside. "Open your pants."
"Um..." Awkwardly Stiles wrestled his button and zipper open. What boxers had he put on today? Oh. Not Batman but Yoda. That was even worse.
"Lift your butt," Derek ordered sternly.
Stiles tried to string some words together while Derek grabbed a handful of denim and dragged the pants down over Stiles´s thighs and his long legs, and finally his feet. He failed. He was more feeling than seeing what Derek did because he didn´t dare to look at his face or the hands touching his skin.
"Okay. I think you´re able to put the fresh pair on by yourself." Derek took the wet pants and hung them next to the hoodie. He then started clearing the table.
With some trouble Stiles managed to put the pants on. He was still half-hard. He was glad that Derek was busy tidying up, and that the sweatpants were bulky. "Now what? Where shall I sleep?"
"Right there," Derek grumbled.
"I can´t take your bed. I will..."
"I´ll sleep in the chair. End of discussion."
Stiles pouted, but stopped arguing. He realized how much he had missed Derek. His grumpy face. His adorable roughness. His way of handling him. Simply Derek. Oh hell. He´d got it bad. "I miss my favorite pillow. I never sleep very well without it."
Derek seized his book and settled in the chair. "Try."
"Read me a story," Stiles murmured, and a wave of heat crawled over him. What a silly wish at his age. Derek would never....
"Fine. Anything to make you shut up."
"Ha-Ha!" Stiles mocked the insult in good spirits. He cuddled the blanket. Derek´s blanket. Derek had slept with it and maybe he had even... ...oh, don´t be a naughty boy.
Derek started reading. A Christmas Carol. Ebenezer Scrooge. The grumpiest of them all.
Stiles laughed. "Hey, the story fits you, sourwolf."
Derek didn´t respond to his teasing but read on. Stiles shifted around for a while listening to Derek´s voice, which sounded amazingly affectionate. He yawned. His eyelids turned heavy, and the blanket snuggled him.... oh dear, I could listen to his voice all day and night ...and he was asleep before the second ghost turned up to haunt infamous and lonely Scrooge.
He dreamed. Terrible stuff. Dark and icy. Not Christmas-like at all. He screamed, and water filled his lungs...
"Hey, hey. It´s okay. I´m here."
"I was drowning," he gasped. "Lydia couldn´t pull me out. I was cold, and alone. You weren´t there. My heart stopped beating." He shook like a snowflake swirled around in the wind. "I was dead."
"It´s fine. I´m here now." Derek spooned him naturally as if this was a thing they always did. "I´m not gonna leave."
"You did," he whined.
"I won´t again." Derek nuzzled his face against the nape of his neck. "Calm down."
Oh God. Derek´s cuddling me. "D-Derek." Stiles shook more. Oh. And now he got a full on boner, which was really weird after having a nightmare.
"Okay. Easy now. You´re hurt."
"Not that much," he murmured to his own surprise.
"Is that right? Just enough to stay at my house and in my bed, huh?"
"You call this a bed?" Stiles teased him. Oh. Am I brave or am I nuts?
"Quiet," Derek ordered, but he softened his order by licking his ear.
Stiles melted as fast as the snowflakes a few hours ago. "´kay."
"Don´t worry anymore. I´ll keep you warm and safe." Derek´s voice was rough and husky, the unique touch of his tongue simply the best Christmas gift ever. "Close your eyes. Go to sleep."
"Um...you...me...we...we were never...uh..."
Derek pulled Stiles into him.
A distinct pressure against his ass made his mouth drop open. Oh! "Oh."
"Yeah, oh." Derek´s teeth were edging below his lips, nipping at Stiles´s skin.
What? Do you want to bite? Stiles turned around. Derek was wearing the most unwound and wrecked expression ever. Hey, what´s up, scary wolf? "You don´t even like me."
"Says who?" Derek scowled.
"Excuse me? Throat ripping. Deadly glares. Head slamming."
"That was an eternity ago. I didn´t know you then." Derek huffed. "I didn´t trust you."
"And now you do?"
"M-m." Derek leaned in, brushing his lips against Stiles´s mouth.
Stiles´s boner jerked, leaking with desire. "S-sorry."
Derek´s eyebrows shot up. "What are you sorry for? I´m the adult here."
"Yeah...um...well...uh..." He was in pain. He was so hard now he would burst any second... and Derek hadn´t even touched him properly.
"There is no girl you have a secret crush on, right?"
"Yes or no?"
"Isn´t it obvious? No need to-"
Derek’s fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, tugging him forward and they were kissing. Not an awkward, dry press of lips type of kiss, no, they went straight on to French kissing with Stiles making noises to blush for. That was okay, because so was Derek. He was making it sound like Stiles´s mouth was the best thing that ever happened to him. Derek was kissing him like he meant it. Hell yeah. Stiles´s heartbeat stuttered, and he moaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Derek’s broad shoulders, his legs parting to give Derek better access.
Derek broke the kiss, panting like he had been running. "Idiot."
"Hey. It´s Christmas. You should-"
Derek shut him up again. That kiss was even less Christmassy-mistletoe-like but sharp and fierce, and, oh my god, that tongue.
"I want you to do that again."
Derek snorted. "It´s Christmas after all. You´re granted a wish." He leaned forward, licking Stiles´s lips, which tickled, and then nipped into the trembling flesh. Stiles felt no fear, he just got as horny as never before in his life. "Yeah, more please. I like it." Derek growled and sucked at the lip, hard. Stiles hissed, and pushed his hips into Derek.
Derek chuckled. "Fine." Easily he got rid of both of their shirts.
Derek started moving down Stiles´s chest, nipping everywhere, kissing the valley of his belly-button, biting him there, too. "Time for candy." He pulled sweatpants and boxers down, exposing Stiles´s rigid length. "Ah. That´s what Yoda is hiding. I´ve wanted to taste that candy for a long time..."
"Oh, sweet Jesus. Derek. I … I’m gonna come if you keep—"
Derek bared his teeth, rocking harder against Stiles. "So? We can do it again and again and again."
"Ah, man... keep talking...I´m close...like now..."
"Good to know." Derek lapped at the blue balls, smacking his lips, taking each one in his mouth and sucked, gently this time, no biting.
"Yeah, good, so good," Stiles moaned, tangling his fingers in Derek's hair, surprised that he was actually allowed to do that, and arched his back as Derek´s tongue kept doing wonderful things to him. Derek moved even lower, and Stiles stopped thinking. His toes curled and he came apart, but Derek didn´t stop, he continued lapping at him through the aftershocks, until Stiles laid still, panting. "That was awesome."
"Fuck, Stiles," Derek growled, pulling at his sweatpants, and he got his cock out, kneeling above Stiles, his hand a blur as he jerked himself off, cock thick and gorgeous.
Stiles was staring, because the view was freaking awesome, too, and he didn't want to miss a second of it. That's when Derek howled, low and rough, and squirted off, marking Stiles´s belly and crotch with his spunk, mingling with that of Stiles.
Stiles sucked a shuddering breath, rubbing the sticky present into his skin. Oh god, he liked it. He liked all of it. Best Christmas ever. Duh!
The next second he was snuggled by the big,
bad cuddly wolf, who hummed like a sated beast.
Holy God, I´m in love. No. No. Don´t say that. Don´t even think that. Don´t scare him off. Okay. Go to sleep. He turned. He twitched. He wriggled. No. Not happening. Derek was too hot, and he was not tired. He sighed. Feeling his cock swelling up again he was far from tired. He was a naughty boy...
"Stiles. Will you go to sleep already or do I have to make you?"
"I bet you can´t," he murmured, the tip of his tongue beating at Derek´s pulsing neck.
The wolf was up and on him before he could even finish his oh so coy move...
Hell Yeah! That´s the spirit. Christmas is a blast. Santa is a star. God... "Jesus Christ Almighty! What are you doing? Derek!"
Outside the snow flurry was still going on, eagerly licking along the bottom, turning the whole area moist and creamy white. The wind screamed beneath the eaves, rattling at every board, but the howls inside the house won the contest with the elements by far.