Merry Christmas, @artisticpixie!
*****
Just in Time for Christmas
Stiles’ soulmark was often described as a fox’s tail (he learned to say it like that when he learned there was an actual plant named foxtail that looked nothing like it), it was a reddish swoop near his left shoulder that ended on a white tip.
Stiles didn’t pay much mind to his soulmark, or at least not as much as Scott, who began imagining his own soulmark on any girl he had a crush on. Stiles didn’t see what the point was, there was only one person his soulmark would attach to, and that was his soulmate, whenever they first touched.
The stories about how soulmates meet are a whole Thing. Everyone’s trying to one up each other in how marvelously magical it was. Stiles found it kind of annoying, since most of them really boiled down to “we met, we touched, our soulmarks verified that we were meant for each other.” His own parents’ story was never too embellished. Noah pulled Claudia over and while handing her a ticket for speeding she unsuccessfully tries to charm her way out of they realized they were soulmates.
He still gave her the ticket. Stiles never figured out if that part of the story was true.
So, of course, the guy who felt meeting your soulmate was easy would touch his soulmate and not know who they are.
It wasn’t his fault, ok? There had been a kanima. Jackson, asshole of the year (and of course it would be Jackson’s fault, the guy lived to torment him), had managed to get some random Alpha to bite him. Of course Jackson, asshole of the decade (Stiles was pissed, ok?) did not take to the bite well and began turning into a monster.
Thankfully, there are protocols for things like these. Still, when the scent of omega lured Jackson’s then reptilian ass to The Jungle the call to evacuate created a bit of a panic. Within that panic the lights went off and someone grabbed Stiles’ arm, which made him feel like his heart was about to burst out of his chest and like he needed that hand to stay there for the rest of his life. He thought he was having a panic attack.
Scott found his other arm and pulled him, taking him quickly outside to safety alongside Isaac. Paramedics outside found him, asked what was wrong and Stiles said he was having a panic attack because, in his defense, he did not know what being touched by your soulmate for the first time feels like. One of Beacon Hill’s deputies found him and offered a ride home, since he seemed to only be having a mild panic attack (that wasn’t a panic attack) and the ambulances were needed for people paralyzed by kanima poison.
Stiles went to bed, feeling weird but not understanding why.
Finally, when he saw himself shirtless in the mirror next morning, he understood. His soulmark was there, the familiar red and white swoop, but now another swoop had joined it. This one was jet black and circled around his own like a shield.
There are stories of people in similar situations to Stiles’ but most of them were romance novels where the circumstances for it were laughable and the soulmarks pulled both of them to meet quickly. Stiles felt no pull, just an absence.
He woke up and expected someone to be there. Grabbed his phone and expected to be able to call someone to tell them how his day had gone. His heat came and no toy was good enough. It’s like his body knew he had an Alpha. Which he did. He just didn’t know where that Alpha was.
It’s not like he hadn’t tried to find him. He had gone to back to The Jungle often, but the staff there had said that no lone Alpha had come with the same problem. The newspaper had a section in which people who thought destiny needed a hand in putting soulmates together would publish their own soulmarks and wait for people who thought might make a good match for them to contact them. Stiles didn’t know if it worked for those people, but it certainly didn’t work for him.
It’s not like Beacon Hills was that large of a town. The rumor mill would be bound to turn up another person looking for their soulmate at some point. His father asked the nosiest of his deputies and none had an answer. For a moment Stiles worried that Jackson, asshole of the century, had managed to kill his soulmate but no one had died during the incident.
Stiles was close to simply parading the town shirtless and hope for the best. He only didn’t because although the incident had happened in June, it was now December and way too cold to be parading around town shirtless.
He also didn’t do it because a sad voice inside him was telling him that his soulmate was out there, and he knew who he was, and was thanking all his stars that he had managed to get away from him the way he did.
Stiles knew he wasn’t a model omega. For starters, he deeply questioned the idea of a model omega and had written a long piece for an op-ed on the town’s local news website on how that idea was more a cultural than biological thing. He had gotten some hate mail out of that. He was loud, he didn’t have the graceful coordination omegas were supposed to have, and he reacted to authority figures with a mixture of mockery and anger.
When he shared this with his father, somewhere in the middle of December, the older beta hugged him tightly. “Don’t even think that, any Alpha, beta, or omega would be lucky to have you.”
Stiles wiped his nose on his sleeve. “But it’s been almost half a year. Why haven’t they tried to find me?”
“Maybe they have, just in a place you wouldn’t usually think of,” his father answered. “Come on, it’s like you to give up.”
Stiles nodded, calming down.
“I just wish I could find them before my heat this January,” Stiles added. “Last one was unbearable.”
His father nodded, obviously still worried. “By the way,” he said, “what would you think of spending Christmas Eve at the Hales?”
Stiles perked up a little at that. “The Hales? They invited you?”
“They invited us,” Noah corrected. “When I told Laura’s mother we would be spending the holiday alone, she insisted.”
Usually they’d spend it with Scott and Melissa, but they had booked a cruise to warmer weathers.
“Sounds great!” I’ll bake a pie or something.
“I’m sure Talia had that in mind when he invited us.”
Talia Hale, Alpha of the Hale pack, had a sweet tooth. So did her children, and Stiles’ confections at any bake sale they happened to appear were always praised by her. Alpha Talia was also a rarity in that all of her children were Alphas. Laura, who would replace her mom after she retired. Derek, the most handsome man in all of Beacon Hills as far as Stiles was concerned. Cora, the most intimidating girl Stiles had ever met. And even the youngest, George.
Stiles, like almost any omega in Beacon Hills, enjoyed seeing any of them around town. They were all beautiful and nice, unlike other Alphas who seemed to always be close to brawling to show superiority.
Stiles would usually spot Derek around town always doing something to help someone. Once he saw him carrying some furniture, apparently helping a younger couple move into their new apartment. His arms flexing ever so temptingly. He had been driving to see his father with a healthy lunch otherwise he would’ve stopped and stared. More. There had also been that time when he walked out of his house and saw Derek mowing the neighbor’s lawn. Shirtless. Stiles got on his jeep and fled the scene before Derek saw him drooling. No use getting too attached to that scene, anyway, Derek had already found his soulmate. Laura had told his dad as much when he asked her.
Which was a shame because Derek, as far as Stiles was concerned, was the perfect Alpha. Tall but not too tall. Wide and muscular but more like a fitness model than a bodybuilder. And while he was usually seen with his trademark frown, his smile was dazzling. Stiles had spent more than one heat imagining those strong hands on him.
“I’ll make a pecan pie, she seemed to like that at the Fall Festival,” Stiles mused, grateful for the distraction. He enjoyed baking, not only because it seemed to do wonders against his anxiety but also because at some point he had felt that was the only thing he had to convince his soulmate he was worth keeping. He was a bit better in the self esteem department nowadays, but he still hoped for the day he could make his soulmate the perfect birthday cake.
After some digging around for special recipes and deciding he would wow the town’s Alpha before asking for her help on finding his lost soulmate, Stiles landed on a bourbon pecan pie recipe that looked too good not to make. He learned from his father that Laura liked cheesecake and that sounded way too much like a sneaky way to make him bring cheesecake, so he obliged.
So, on the early afternoon of the 24th, Stiles and Noah rang the bell to the Hale mansion. Noah had a cheesecake on one hand and a bourbon pecan pie in the other. Stiles had yet another bourbon pecan pie, because he remembered the Hales were a large family, and a box filled with gingerbread wolves in the other.
“I may have overdone it,” Stiles said to his dad for the twentieth time that day.
“I don’t think they’ll mind,” he answered. The door opened and Talia Hale herself was there to greet them.
“Noah, you made it! We’re so glad you’re here. Come in, come in. Cora, take their coats. And what’s this? Pecan pie! Two of them! I’m tempted to keep one all to myself, they smell so lovely. George, please take these to the kitchen, we’ll bring them out for dessert. And cheesecake? Did Laura ask for this? Of course she did, I’m sure. Cora, take it to the kitchen, too, and don’t let Laura stick her finger in it. Come with me, we’re in the living room at the moment but I heard Claudia’s jeep approaching and I simply had to be the first to greet you. Derek can bring some mulled wine or hot cocoa to warm you up. Derek? Derek why are you standing there like that?”
Stiles stopped when he saw him, not understanding why Derek was looking at him so intensely. Derek was famous for how his look could stop other werewolves in their tracks, but this wasn’t a look of anger at all.
“Stiles?” Noah’s voice was low but just as hopeful as the omega’s own heart felt.
Derek walked towards Stiles, slowly but surely. The noise from the living room seemed to have vanished, and Stiles could only hear the thumping of his own heart, apparently in rhythm to Derek’s footsteps. Stiles noticed the way his jeans hugged his strong legs, the way his chest stretched the sweater he was wearing, just like his arms filled up the sleeves so nicely. Derek had let his beard grow ever so slightly, and it framed his lips perfectly. His green eyes were focused on him like none had ever been before.
“I knew it was you,” he said in a low voice, his hand reaching to touch Stiles’ cheek. The moment Derek’s fingers made contact Stiles nodded, because it was obvious. Because it was true. Stiles would’ve dropped the box of cookies to jump into Derek’s arms had Talia not stopped them.
“Derek,” she said, firm. “You will behave yourself. You know he’s mated.”
Stiles felt like he could hear a record scratch at the sound of that statement. He turned to her.
“I’m not mated,” he said. “I mean, I am, kind of, but-”
“You said he had found his soulmate.” Laura had, at some point, appeared next to them and was looking at Noah.
“I said it was complicated,” Noah answered, defensively.
“You said you had talked to him.” It was now Talia who looked accusingly at Laura.
“I did!” Laura almost yelled. “Kinda,” she added, lower.
The argument went on, each trying to figure what had happened. Stiles himself was curious, but he was ok with figuring out later. Right now, Derek’s hand had found his hip and when he turned to face him, the Alpha was looking at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the whole world. Stiles felt sure that his eyes said the same thing.
Stiles moved his hand to rest on Derek’s shoulders and when they kissed Stiles could only think two things:
1) He felt like if they took a photo of them now, it would look like a cover for one of those cheesy romantic novels, but Christmas themed. Both of them wearing sweaters, Stiles holding a box of gingerbread wolves on one hand, while standing on a tastefully decorated hallway. It would probably have an awfully appropriate title like “Home for the Holidays” or “Just in time for Christmas.”
2) Every single sickly sweet description on how it felt to kiss your soulmate for the first time on those novels was right. It was like falling into syrup. It was like a thousand boxes of your favorite cookie. It was like falling asleep into a dream you’d always want to go back to.
When they finally broke the kiss, Derek rested his forehead on Stiles’ and inhaled deeply. Stiles chuckled, loving the way Derek’s arms wrapped around him.
Talia cleared her throat, and both of them turned to her like this was the hundredth time she had found them making out, lost to anything and anyone else, and not the first. Noah and Laura were both there, smiling embarrassedly, and so was George, his cell phone out no doubt to post a picture to annoy Derek with later.
“George,” Derek said, “I will break your phone.”
“Not before he shares the picture,” Cora said. “Now could you please come over to the living room? Or at least let Stiles give me the cookies before you take him up to your room?”
“He can take Stiles to his room after dinner,” Talia said. “Now, if you please, Derek, some mulled wine for Noah while I introduce Stiles to the rest of the family.”
They share a small kiss and Stiles walks into a living room of smiling faces. The story comes together in pieces. Stiles would’ve found it frustrating if he wasn’t riding a massive high from kissing Derek.
After Derek touched Stiles, he was torn. On the one hand he could feel his soulmate being taken away, on the other he had to make sure people got out safely. He had stayed outside Jungle, hoping for his omega to come back and finally left, sad but determined to find him.
He returned to Jungle, but never thought of leaving a message with the staff. He felt foolish, telling someone he had found his mate and had let them go. He relied on Laura as part of the Beacon Hills police department, but after he had learned Stiles was already mated his drive waned.
Had he known Stiles was also looking for his lost soulmate, Derek would’ve shown up at his door, but instead he simply waited for the day he could meet the lucky person that was mated to the author of one of his favorite op-eds in the local news website. He had done a couple of questionable things in his quest to get close to Stiles, like offering to mow the lawn of one of the Stilinski’s neighbors. He of course did it shirtless because if Stiles, like he supposed, matched his soulmark; he was bound to notice it then.
Each detail on how they kept on missing each other made the people in the leaving room groan with frustration or howl with laughter. Derek had dropped the couch he was holding seconds after Stiles had left the scene of the move, distracted by the feeling of his mate close by.
“Oh, god, did you hurt yourself?” Stiles asked.
“Dropped the couch on his foot,” Erica, a friend of the family said, and everyone laughed. “Thank the stars for werewolf healing.”
Their story blurs into the background as the other couples share the stories of how they met, and when Derek sits beside Stiles it’s too easy for him to lean into his warmth. Under the watchful eye of their parents (and the teasing eyes of Derek’s siblings) it’s hard to not just excuse themselves so they can make out for a while, see each other’s soulmarks on each other.
Seats are shuffled for dinner so they can sit together, and after dessert, when everyone is done complimenting Stiles’ pie and cheesecake (and more than one comment on how they expect more baked good from him is made) the Hales’ extended family retires to guest rooms and hotels. Noah correctly guesses Stiles will stay over, and Talia tells Derek he doesn’t have to do the dishes this time, George and Cora had volunteered.
“Don’t be too grateful,” she says at Derek’s surprise. “They also posted several photos of the two of you looking at each other like loons.”
Stiles laughs, both at that and Derek’s frown. The Alpha looks at him and his face instantly softens. “You’re adorable,” he says.
“Thanks,” Stiles says, blushing.
“I mean that literally,” Derek states. “You’re worthy of adoration. You’re beautiful, funny, and-”
“Derek,” Cora yells from the kitchen. “We offered to do the dishes precisely so you could do this lovey dovey bs in your room where it’s soundproofed.”
Derek laughs and takes Stiles hands, leading him upstairs. Derek’s bedroom is large, with a queen size bed on one side and a desk on the other. Derek apologizes for the mess and by “mess” Stiles assumes he means the two socks that aren’t in the hamper. Derek closes the door and the kiss they share this time is soft and tender, like a the nuzzle of a mate coming home to their den. Derek guides them to his bed.
They take off their shoes and begin undressing each other slowly. Derek is wearing a button shirt and Stiles says “Merry Christmas to me” as he begins to unbutton it. He pulls on it to reveal Derek’s soulmark and his own, both of them together in Derek’s body the same way they are on his. As sure as he was, as right as it had felt to be with Derek the whole day, it was nice to have visual confirmation. Stiles plants a kiss on it and Derek growls low before forcing Stiles out of his own shirt. He stared at the soulmark on Stiles’ body adoringly before licking a stripe from it to Stile’s neck, where he sucks, apparently intent on leaving a mark.
“I’m already marked as yours, you know,” Stiles giggles, but stretches his neck.
His words seem to affect Derek, and the Alpha stops.
“Everything ok?” Stiles asks.
Derek nods, and arranges them so he’s spooning Stiles. He hugs the omega tightly and inhales deeply. Stiles turns his head awkwardly until they face each other.
“I feel your anxiety, you know?” Stiles says. “It’s like mine but different.”
“It’s dumb,” Derek says.
“Anxiety usually is.” Stiles plants a kiss on Derek’s nose. “Tell me.”
“I thought you didn’t want me,” Derek says. “I thought you’d made up an Alpha to keep me away. I thought you thought I was grumpy and mean and-”
Stiles kisses his Alpha, not only because it hurts him to imagine a world where he would be stupid enough not to want Derek, but also because he can’t express with words how wrong he is. Derek returns the kiss, and he seems to get the message.
“I also thought, you know, something like that,” Stiles confesses when they break the kiss. “I thought maybe the Alpha had seen me from a distance and ran away, glad to have dodged this bullet.”
“You’re kidding,” Derek says. “You’re perfect.”
“You say that now but just wait until you have to deal with an actually messy room, or half an hour of anxious blabbering because I have a doctor’s appointment later that day.”
Derek grins.
“No, really, you’re all grins now but one of these days you’re gonna walk in on me unshowered, half panicked because of some deadline or the other with a half-eaten box of cookies in one hand and then what will you do?”
“Good question. I think I’d take that half eaten box of cookies and put it away to eat later, I’d make you some tea to calm you down and help you meet your deadline, and then I would shower with you to fuck any remaining worries out of you.”
Stiles is for once, speechless.
“Does that sound good?”
Stiles nods.
Derek kisses him again, and this time he doesn’t stop. Stiles is glad the room is soundproof because he didn’t know he could be that loud for that long. Derek looks unbearably smug the next morning.
“Stop it,” Stiles says, once he’s awake enough.
“Stop what?” Derek asks innocently. He’s wearing flannel pajamas and enjoying the sight and smell of Stiles wearing one of his shirts.
“Stop staring at me like that. I’m human, your werewolf stamina is gonna have to wait a little longer.”
Derek laughs. “Yeah, specially since mom wants us down for breakfast. Come on, we can shower together, it’ll be my birthday present.”
Stiles rolls his eyes. “Christmas present, Derek. It’s Christmas.”
“It’s also my birthday,” Derek says, pulling Stiles to the edge of the bed.
“Wait, really?”
It takes an emergency run to the only store open in town but Stiles manages to bake his soulmate the perfect birthday cake. Or at least the first birthday cake, Stiles is sure he can improve the recipe for next year.
——
A little extra: The Conversation between Noah and Laura
“You seem frazzled, boss,” Laura said leaving a cup of coffee on Noah’s desk. The sheriff nodded.
“Stiles found his soulmate, but it’s complicated,” he said before taking a sip from his mug.
Laura sighed, enjoying her own cup of coffee. “Yeah, the same thing happened to my brother just yesterday.”
“I don’t think the same thing that happened to my son could happen to two people.”
Laura laughed. “Same with my brother.”
Before either of them could ask the other to elaborate, Officer Parrish yelled there were donuts in the break room.
Six months later both will insist that they said much more than that. But they didn’t.
