Hey, @slashupmylife, you may not have been notified for whatever reason about my gift fic for you, but @eternalstereksecretsanta told me that might be from a technological issue from when I submitted it.
Don’t worry, you’re story is still okay and I still have it.
You can even read, “We’ve Never Met, But Can We Have a Coffee or Something?” HERE on AO3.
Based off of fanficy-prompts’ story idea here (because I’m unoriginal with a writer’s block and I’m sorry): I go to a coffee shop every day after class and you’re always there in the back corner sitting alone and you always order the same thing, I tried it and it’s delicious and you look so sad
Hope you like it, slashupmylife!
---
Today, instead of his regular, Erica gives him a soft smile alongside his surprise drink. Stiles returns the gesture as he grabs the cup, turning afterwards to see the man sulking in the corner as usual.
With a deep breath, Stiles steels himself, and walks over to the guy’s table.
Hey, this is your eternalstereksecretsanta and I'm just messaging you to say I'm sorry the format is a bit messed up 😩 the HTML for the text messages didn't work so it's basically not understandable. I'll try to get it set up on ao3 asap. I'm sorry
No worries! I only just sat down to read your story. If I have trouble reading, I’ll just check it out on AO3 when you post it!
That’s it for the gifts. The reveal will happen tomorrow where I add the creator to each gift. Thanks for all fun. I’ll see you in the summer and again next holiday season.
You will also get access to all the AO3 fics, so be sure to check them out and give all your love and kudos.
@ivoriholmes - I hope I did Spark!Stiles justice and that you enjoy it! Merry Christmas!
I fell in love with this idea that Stiles not only likes Star Wars but also Harry Potter and his favorites are Sirius and Remus. So he gets hurt and makes Derek watch them with him because nobody else usually puts up with his movie choices.
by @kewismash
He remembers pain and light. His mind is taken back to the ice water, death. ‘Did I go back to the dark place?’ His mind wonders as the fog lifts from his mind, his back cold and his senses slowly come back and he tries to open his eyes. He closes them quickly with a groan.
“Jesus…Satan…whoever, turn the lights down. I get it, you’re an almighty whatever, ‘Kay?” He croaks out, feeling pain in his vocal chords.
'That’s new.’
***
He makes a face and feels a warm, steady hand on his arm, and the pain fades to a dull ache. When Stiles finally drags his eyes open, he sees Deaton first and as his eyes circle the room he notices all the pack is there, emotions practically flowing off them. 'Nervous. Scared. Like someone kicked their dog.’
“I wouldn’t say they kicked, but they did cut him up.” He followed the voice to see Derek, stone faced with a little smirk starting. Scott gave Derek a look and Stiles laughed. That cut any tension that was left in the room and he saw everybody relax.
“What’s the verdict doc?” Stiles whispered, sitting up and immediately regretting it. Derek put a hand on his back, helping him sit up. Deaton looked at Scott, and he lifted an eyebrow at his best friend at the weird interaction. 'Always so fucking cryptic.’
“‘Yer a wizard Stiles!” Without missing a beat and not taking the words in Stiles answered back.
“I’m a wot?!…wait what?”
“You’re a spark, that’s what we call it…but you seem more familiar with the term magic. It’s been rather dormant for awhile, but much like with Lydia it took werewolf claws to literally spark it in you.” Deaton started explaining and Stiles looked at Scott who pointed to the bandage and sling.
“SOF OF A OW!” Erica moved and put her hand on his hurt arm before Scott could maneuver around Derek.
“This is something that I’ve wondered about you for a while…you’ve proven yourself to be quite the handy emissary to the pack whether you were aware or not. With some training we can hone in on your spark and natural emissary abilities to…”
His heart-rate picked up and he felt the hand on his back rub up and down. Everybody watched in amazement as the two interacted, still not used to these intimate moments.
“Maybe he should go home?” Scott asked, looking at Derek who gave him a little nod. He turned to Deaton, “We can talk about this stuff when he’s a little better since he’s still out of it.”
“My door is always open.” He said leaving the room. Allison brought over an extra sweatshirt from Scott’s car.
“We would give you your shirt, but claw marks and blood.” Stiles made a face, I loved that shirt, both Erica and Derek took their hands back.
“We’ll go shopping and get a few new shirts okay?” Lydia said and he nodded. “You could use a few upgrades.” Stiles tried not to roll his eyes as everybody seemed to try to help him in the zip up, only wincing a little.
After deliberation and a quick car ride home Stiles was set up surrounded by pillows on the couch. “Do you want me to grab you a snack or something?” Derek asked, standing awkwardly next to the couch. Stiles patted the pillows, trying to get him to sit down.
“You got me water already remember? Come sit with me and watch movies is what you can do. I’m not gonna bite you.” Stiles moved pillows as he talked, his voice feeling better after some water. He made room for Derek on his good side.
“Were not watching any Star Wars are we? We marathoned that last pack night.” Stiles stuck his tongue out at the comment Derek made.
“No, come closer and cuddle me, I’m cold.” The other rolled his eyes and scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. Stiles shimmied into the other’s back, a contented sigh leaving him as he looked through the movies. They’d gotten into a habit of cuddling or at least shoulders touching during pack nights. If one of them fell asleep on the other during those nights nobody mentioned it.
Derek got lost in his thoughts until Stiles slapped the arm around his waist to get his attention. The film started with the familiar music of the first Harry Potter film. His arms tensed across Stiles’ waist. “I used to read these to everybody. I had to stop after the second and after that we didn’t continue, I took to reading Lord of the Rings.”
Stiles paused the tv and whipped his head around. “YOU DIDN’T GET TO MEET MY FAVORITE SIRIUS BLACK! There’s also someone else I bet you’d love, Remus Lupin. Known werewolf and totally gay uncles with Sirius!” Derek gave him a look. “We should read the books and watch these…I have the books upstairs if you’d want to?” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“Now?” Derek asked rolling his eyes.
“If you wanted, I mean mum and dad used to read them to me. We could take turns?” Stiles rubbed his good hand against Derek’s arm, trying to comfort him.
“I-I think I’d like that.” Stiles glowed at that and they both looked at each other.
“Wait is this real life? Am I legit glowing?”
“Yup.” The other groaned.
“Well, I guess my wizard skills don’t know when to shut the hell up! Let’s go upstairs before dad see me being a human night light.” He got up and started towards the stairs. “Let’s go, Sourwolf. It’s not like you’ve come to my house to defile the sheriff’s kid while he’s out, unless you want to…then I’d tell you to wait until i’m healed.” He turned, realizing the words that just flowed from his mouth. His glowed stopped as his mind started. 'If my brain to mouth filter could work for once, it should’ve been that point! For fuck sake Stiles get it together!’
They walked to Stiles’ room in silence and he grabbed the first book from his shelf. He noticed Derek fixing the pillows and taking his shoes off. “You get to read first since I’m injured.” Derek nodded and took the book from Stiles before they cuddled up on the bed.
“Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.” Stiles snorted which earned him a look from Stiles. He blushed as his mind went to dirty places, which was almost a constant for him.
A few chapters in Derek could hear the snores coming from the other one who was laying with his head on Derek’s stomach. He dog eared the page after having seen the multiple dog eared pages before and put it on the nightstand with the light that he turned off.
The next morning Stiles woke up and noticed the wet spot he’d made on Derek’s shirt from drooling. 'Oh god he’s gonna think I’m gross.’ He thought, getting up as to not wake the other and tip tied to the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he came back in Derek was awake and smiling. “I hope your dad isn’t mad.”
“Next time tell me you’re having company over so-WHAT HAPPENED?”
“Just a scratch?” He looked to Derek who internally face palmed at the idiot standing before him.
“Sir, uh he was helping defend the preserve and you know how stubborn he is. We told him to watch Liam and them, you know kind of babysit them and then they came after me and next thing I know I smelled blood and we all saw this bright light.”
“Which fun fact dad was me!” He said and clapped a hand over his mouth.
“That’s uh great…well talk about this later when you don’t have company and I process this. I’m gonna go see what Melissa is up to today. No sex!” John said pointed at both of them before leaving the room to get ready. The two of them started laughing and Stiles started glowing again.
Once John was out of the house they calmed down and sat down next to each other. “I should head home before your dad comes to his senses and borrows one of Chris Argent’s guns.” Stiles laughs and before he registers what he’s doing is pressing his lips to the other’s. When he pulls away his eyes go wide with shock.
“OH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY! Shit I fucked up! You can leave if you want, I took it too far…I wasn’t thinking.” Derek gently put a hand on Stiles’ cheek and pulled him in for another kiss. When they pulled apart Stiles had a dopey look on his face. “Does this mean we’re boyfriends?”
“Yes, if that’s okay with?” Derek didn’t even need to finish because the other was shaking his head yes. “Now as your boyfriend I have to leave to shower because we’re gonna have a proper date tonight. Make sure you bring this one,“ he said pointing to the book, "and text me what you want for dinner.” He stole one quick peck before leaving out the window.
“You could use the front door now that you’re my boyfriend!” He yelled knowing Derek could hear him. He went to get his phone from his pocket and dropped it on the floor. “Fucker!” He muttered picking it up and hissing at his shoulder.
To: Pack: WE’RE OFFICIAL BABY!
From: Lydz: We need to go shopping now! Get dressed and I’m on my way!
From: Sourwolf: You’re a brat. <3
He smiled at his phone before putting it on the bed, hearing it chime with new texts as he maneuvered getting dressed. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for Lydia had in store for him today but he was excited to gush about what happened.
Stiles scooped up his phone, putting it in his pocket before putting the sling back on and looking at himself in the mirror. 'She should be glad I got jeans on with this bullshit chicken wing.’
HONK HONK! He gave his hair a one through with his good hand before running down the stairs and into the back seat of Lydia’s car having noticed Allison in the front and Erica in the back.
Derek knows what an emergency feels like. He’s been near death, seen others in similar states and knows exactly how it feels when something important is on the line. This is not quite on the same level, but it is important enough.
by @oldestcharm
Derek knows what an emergency feels like. He’s been near death, seen others in similar states and knows exactly how it feels when something important is on the line. This is not quite on the same level, but it is important enough.
On any other day he would simply try to figure it out on his own and as a last resort, ask Stiles for help. He isn’t sure why it is always Stiles he goes to. It might possibly have to do with the fact that despite all his irritation and sarcastic remarks, he’s actually someone to confide in. Derek doesn’t think he needs to hide parts of him, because for some reason Stiles always seems to understand. He understands what it is like to lose someone, to lose control of yourself. He’s nice enough when the situation calls for it and Derek really doesn’t have another option.
He lets himself in through Stiles’ window. He isn’t in his room, but he seems to be downstairs, muttering under his breath. Derek can smell his frustration and hear the way he’s gritting his teeth, which... Maybe it’s the wrong time to ask for a favor.
Still, it’s an emergency.
Derek takes a deep breath and makes his way downstairs. He takes in the sight of the bright and messy living room. There are Christmas decorations all over the floor, alongside with fairy lights and garlands. Stiles is standing on a poorly balanced chair, attempting to stick something onto the top of their Christmas tree, which is packed full of all sorts of strange objects. His shirt is riding up, revealing quite a bit of pale skin as well as the claw wounds on his side that he had to get stitches for. Derek really wishes he could keep Stiles from getting hurt, but he has a mind of its own and is more than willing to go out there and fight.
“Fuck.” Stiles hisses when he gets prickled by the tree and he pulls his hand back, scowling at the tree as though it has personally offended him. He looks miserable.
“Having trouble?” Derek asks, forgetting momentarily that he hasn’t made a sound to notify Stiles of his presence. He pays for it when Stiles jumps, loses his balance and manages to smack Derek in the face with his elbow before he collides with the floor. Derek isn’t sure which of them has it worse. Probably Stiles. Some of those decorations are bound to hurt.
“Fucking hell, Derek!” Stiles hisses, heart beating a hundred times per minute in his chest. It sounds oddly loud to Derek. “Don’t creep up on me, look what I did to your face!”
“You’ve done worse in the past,” Derek says with a shrug, because he feels guilty now. He often feels guilty, but it never feels any lighter. Plus, Stiles is still healing from the clawing. Derek kneels down on the floor, eyes skating over Stiles’ form. “Sorry. Are you alright?”
“Decent.” Stiles says, scowling at the floor, but when he looks up at Derek his expression melts. He reaches out carefully, narrowing his eyes as he brushes his thumb along Derek’s cheekbone and sighs. “I hope your healing thing still works. Else you’ll end up looking like my Christmas tree.”
Derek quirks a smile at that and shakes his head slightly. It is a sweet moment. A bit too sweet, actually, now that he is thinking about it. Stiles withdraws his hand, before Derek can let his imagination run away with him.
“Your Christmas tree looks great.” Derek says, looking at it with envy and appreciation. He scratches at his beard a little nervously, not entirely sure how to approach the subject. A segue will surely do? “ Speaking of... Do you think you could help me pick out a tree?”
“You want me to help you pick out a tree?” Stiles repeats, heartbeat speeding up again as he gapes at Derek. Derek doesn’t know why it sounds so strange to Stiles. It’s not like it’s very serious business. He’s not giving him a key to his place or asking Stiles to marry him. It’s just a tree.
“Yes. I need an emergency tree. Cora’s coming to visit with her boyfriend and I don’t want to look like someone who’s...” Derek trails off, all sorts of uncomfortable. There is a lot he could say, but Stiles probably knows already.
“Like someone who hasn’t done Christmas in half a decade? Like someone who’s ever considered an abandoned train car a wise living choice? Like someone who-”
“Yes, thank you. I was sort of avoiding saying it out loud.” Derek says dryly, souring at the altogether too pleased smirk on Stiles’ lips. It’s both appealing, confusing and irritating all in one.
“Alright,” Stiles says, deciding to take pity on him. He reaches out and wraps one of the sparkly garlands from the floor around Derek’s neck with a slow smile. “But I want you to help me out in turn.”
“What do you need?” Derek asks, a little dazed by the look on Stiles’ face. If he didn’t know any better he would think he is flirting with him. Deciding, he’s been staring for too long he lowers his eyes to inspect the glittering red plastic around his neck instead.
“Please put this on the top of my tree.” Stiles says, pushing a Christmas star against Derek’s chest. He stares at it for a moment or two before realizing it has a Mets sticker on it.
“I can do that.” Derek promises, getting onto his feet and reaching up to settle the Mets star up on top. He turns back to Stiles who is offering a hesitant, but grateful smile. Derek flicks his eyes on Stiles’ waistline. “You were having trouble?”
“My side sort of hurts.” Stiles admits with a light shrug, but he looks quite content now. “Dad took away my pain meds. He seems to think a little suffering will make me think twice the next time I rush to bash someone’s head in with a bat, but I don’t think he realizes that in those moments I don’t actually think at all.”
Derek smiles at that. Self-deprecating humor is definitely a new look on Stiles. He offers a hand to help him up, which Stiles accepts, probably only because his injury is worse than it looks. Derek slides his other hand to Stiles’ side, drawing some of the pain from him. It takes a moment for Stiles to catch up, but when he does, he presses a flat palm against Derek’s chest and pushes him away as gently as possible.
“It’s not that bad.” Stiles says softly, shaking his head. There is glitter even on his eyelashes. “Don’t exhaust yourself, you need energy for our Christmas tree adventure.”
“Is it that complicated?” Derek asks, following Stiles into the hallway and watching, intrigued, as he wraps a long red-brown striped scarf around his neck and pulls on a dark coat. Derek’s always thought red suits him well.
“A little bit.” Stiles tells him and unlocks the door to let them both out. Pauses for a moment, seemingly baffled. “Did you just let yourself in through my window?”
“Absolutely.” Derek replies, because he knows it will wind Stiles up.
“Scott’s werewolf proofed his house,” Stiles sighs, locking the door behind them and heading straight for the Camaro. “Perhaps I should too.”
“You should.” Derek agrees, getting into the driver’s seat. The thought of passing werewolves sniffing out Stiles isn’t exactly appealing. To be honest, he’s quite surprised none of them have thought of it before. That would throw them all off track rather quickly. “But you would have done it already if you really meant to.”
“I have some leftover mountain ash in my bedside drawer.” Stiles muses as Derek pulls out of the driveway.
“You keep mountain ash in your bedside drawer?” Derek asks, quirking a brow at him.
“Among other things.” Stiles offers, his scent turning into something spicy Derek cannot quite place.
“I’m sure it’s fascinating.”
“Feel free to find out.” The suggestion throws him off course a little and he stares at Stiles a couple of seconds before Stiles reaches out to place his hand on top of his and fix his grip on the steering wheel. Derek focuses on the road again.
They sit in comfortable silence for a little while as Stiles plays with the radio. He seems to be attempting to find the worst station, because by the time they arrive it’s playing loud whale sounds. Stiles looks pretty pleased with himself and Derek actually thinks he should be. He never knew there even was an option to play whale sounds, but it will make an interesting ride back to his place once he’s picked up Cora and her boyfriend.
Turns out Stiles does know what he is doing, because he drags Derek around the Christmas tree farm pointing out a few contestants for Derek to either approve of or condemn. Derek doesn’t really know, but since all the trees Stiles shows him have a personality, he’s more than happy to pick one of them.
“Oh, look at that,” Stiles says, leaning forward to inspect one of the smaller ones. It’s a little bit crooked, but it is very thick and has more needles than Derek’s ever seen any tree have in the Preserve. “I think you ought to get this one. It’s both modest and a little shabby. A bit like you, really.”
Derek doesn’t think he’s ever been referred to as modest or shabby and he thinks he should be concerned about being compared to a Christmas tree, but he also trusts Stiles’ judgment. “Alright. We’ll take this one.”
“You hear that? You’ll be in good hands.” Stiles addresses the tree with a wide grin much to the bafflement of the salesman. It is a wonderful sight.
They get the tree packaged and carry it back to Derek’s car with Stiles ‘helping’. He makes a bit of a nuisance of himself, really, especially when he keeps shoving the treetop at Derek’s bare neck and pausing to surreptitiously check his side, but Derek doesn’t have the heart to tell him no. Apparently carrying the tree is part of the experience.
Derek takes him home after that, the two of them laughing at some of the more bizarre sounds that come out of the radio station. He steps out of the Camaro with Stiles, telling himself he’s only doing it because he is worried about Stiles straining himself, but afterwards he admits he simply had not noticed following him outside.
“Thank you.” Derek says, level and heartfelt.
“It’s alright. I had a lot of fun.” Stiles admits, biting back a smile. “You should ask me next time you need help with normal people things.” It sounds a lot more than an invitation. Derek thinks he’s willing to take it.
“I will.” He promises, not dishonestly.
“I’ll see you after Christmas, Derek.” Stiles says, wrapping his fingers around Derek’s arm for a light squeeze. He turns to go, but Derek stops him.
“Stiles,” Derek says, taking a step closer to him.
“Yes?” He asks, pausing in his way and looking almost curious. Derek smiles and leans in to kiss him briefly. Stiles doesn’t let him get away with brief. He slides his fingers through Derek’s hair, tugging at it gently until Derek wraps his arms more securely around Stiles’ middle. As his eyes fall closed, he opens his mouth to warm breath and tongue and lets Stiles take control of the kiss he himself has initiated.
“Boys,” comes a stern voice from the doorway and Derek really doesn’t want to look, but there’s no other option. He opens his eyes cautiously to Stiles smirking at him and the Sheriff quirking a brow from a couple feet away.
“Sheriff,” Derek acknowledges a bit weakly with a nod.
“Just a moment, dad,” Stiles waves him off as though they haven’t just been caught kissing like it’s going out of fashion in broad daylight. Instead he slides his fingers along Derek’s jaw and presses a light kiss against his lips. “Merry Christmas, Derek.” Stiles murmurs softly, before heading off to the house, presumably to have a bit of an awkward chat with his dad.
“Merry Christmas.” Derek whispers once he’s gone, chest aching pleasantly.
****
A few hours later he is standing in the Sacramento airport, waiting for Cora and her boyfriend to come through the gates. They spot each other almost immediately and as soon as Cora’s made her way through the crowds, possibly by elbowing poor old people in the ribs, she hugs him tightly, burying her nose in his shoulder. Her boyfriend hovers a few feet behind her, looking all sorts of uncomfortable.
“I’ve missed you,” she admits in a surprising turn of events.
“I’ve missed you too, Cora.” Derek says as they pull apart and she tugs her boyfriend forward.
“This is Frank,” She introduces him with a bright smile, “Frank, this is my brother Derek who- Why do you have red garland around your neck?” She asks, squinting her eyes and flicking at it. Derek blinks, snorting softly and tugging at the edge of it. He had almost forgotten about it.
“Stiles thinks it’s festive?”
“You’re both very strange.” Cora concludes, shaking her head smilingly. “Come on then, show us the rest of the festivity.”
@sterektbh | AO3 - This was in no way where this story was originally supposed to go, but I wrote some fluff instead and I'm really happy about that, so I hope you are too!!! Merry Christmas!
by @baneofawolf
Stiles could hardly contain himself as he carted Scott, Kira, Lydia, and Jackson all squeezed into his jeep with their ski equipment.
“Did you take too much Adderall?” Scott asked with concern as they followed Derek’s soccer mom car through the mountains.
“Nope!”
“Cocaine? Speed? Pixi sticks?” Jackson drawled from the back.
“Very funny,” Stiles snarked back. “No. I’m excited. I haven’t seen snow since first grade.”
It was more than just excitement, but they took that at face value.
Stiles never lied. Not really. He’s very good at twisting the truth. Is Scott with you? No. He was with me but you don’t need to know that. What did you say? I said - Hey, dad. At some time in my life, I’m sure. Why are you at the Jungle? Clubbing. Technically true, he tried to get a drink and made friends with some drag queens. Why are you really at the Jungle? For Danny. Also true. They were here to protect Danny because Jackson was after him. His boyfriend broke up with him. Facts, although completely unrelated. So Stiles never lied, unless, of course, that was defined as reclining in a horizontal position.
No one ever really noticed because he was so good at almost lying. He was good at twisting words and backwards sentences to throw off the questions from teachers, his dad’s deputies, and even Scott’s dad a real life FBI Agent.
There was a reason for this. His dad always tried to ask him the same question a few times to parse out the truth between his words. Because words were Stiles’s weapon, his power. It’s why no one knew his real name because words had power and his name could control him. His father was the only one who knows. A secret between them and his mother’s grave. She had left her clan long ago to marry his father, so there was no one else Stiles could have turned to for advice after she died.
Well, except for books. Stiles had been researching the supernatural years before Scott got bit by a freaking werewolf. That’s how he figured it out so quickly, he hadn’t done the research on that type of creature before, but he did know where to find it. So, from the fair number of books and tomes and well hidden online forums, Stiles knew a few things about himself.
Like, to keep his true name a secret. And that he could twist the truth a hairbreadths further than a normal fay, being a Halfling. Stiles doubted any full blooded fay could have told the almost lie he had to Matt Daehler when asked “what do you turn into”. Stiles had flippantly said the abominable snowman. But it was genius. Because the abominable snowman is also known as the yeti, which is a myth based off these ice type fay (that Stiles likes to refer to as Frost Giants because Loki) that primarily reside in Poland and Greenland and really anyplace European above Turkey and Stiles is actually a descendent of them. His mom was half frost giant and half tree nymph thing (eh, proper titles weren’t Stiles’s thing). So being a quarter frost giant meant that his icy powers only really kicked in when it was in fact cold outside. So, it was a seasonal thing. Pure genius. Except he was of course the only one that would get the inside joke. Everyone else just thought he was being a sarcastic idiot asking to get hurt. Well, a little column A, a little column B.
Now, it got cold in Beacon Hills. But only really at night during the winter months. It didn’t snow there. So Stiles only kind of experienced his snow man powers. He once spent winter break at the Donner Ski Ranch with his parents and man was that something else. But he hadn’t been around snow since that ski trip as a kid.
Until now.
Derek Hale’s Pack of Wayward Misfits had planned the whole thing for the first winter break after leaving for college. The Boyd family were in their peak season at the ice rink, and needed to hire a few extra hands anyway with Boyd away for college, so he sweet talked his way into not working for break. Erica’s mother was so happy she hadn’t had a single epileptic episode in two years she was willing to let Erica go on a ski vacation without her as long as there was at least one adult. Derek counted, it seemed. It was Isaac’s job to get his grump roommate on board. Stiles was surprised he convinced Derek to 1, go; 2, chaperone; and 3, pay for the whole thing. Stiles was also surprised the rest of them were invited.
Like, Scott sure. Scott was pretty much pack now with Derek’s crew, regardless of protests. Same with Jackson. Jackson more so than Scott, even! I guess with Jackson comes Lydia, and with Scott came Kira. And everyone forgave Allison for her fear and grief driven attacking spree sophomore year a while ago and she was sort of almost dating Isaac, so that made sense. And Stiles guessed if everyone was invited, he would be, too. The only reason Malia wasn’t coming was because her dad grounded her for punching someone’s teeth out. To be fair, he was a sexist asshole and the rest of the pack supported her decision.
The trip still didn’t feel right because now it felt less like a pack vacation and more like a couple’s retreat and Stiles was disgustingly single. Whatever. He’d have fun. He’d have snow. Stiles was very excited.
Big Bear was coated in snow, which is to be expected at a ski resort. But Stiles, despite all he talked it over with his father, wasn’t prepared for how that would make him feel. And he’s not just talking about his wild excitement he shared with Scott and Erica at just seeing it. There was a tingling under his skin that he didn’t remember from his time at Donner when he was six.
When it got below a certain temperature in Beacon Hills, Stiles got to do things like make the fog from his breath do cool tricks like Gandalf does with his pipe, or feel the cold less than most people but still more than werewolves, or make snow turn into hail within a half mile radius, which doesn’t do anything but pelt him with ice and ruin cars. So, all in all, not very exciting.
But here. This tingling. Gosh. This deserved unironic use of the word gosh. Stiles felt like his blood was singing. This was different than during the summer when his wood nymph blood kicked in and he worked in the garden and literally anything he planted bloomed like crazy. That was cool. And useful. They saved a lot of money on vegetables. But this?
Stiles laughed as snow started to fall in a light dusting. A stray part of him thought maybe he was doing that.
This felt like real magic.
Jackson pushed his shoulder. “Hurry the fuck up, Stilinski. I’m not carrying your shit to the cabin.”
Stiles couldn’t help but grin, regardless of Jackson’s bitter attitude. He grabbed his bag from the Jeep and followed everyone, taking glee in each crunch of snow under his boots. The cabin they got was really great. In walking distance of the visitors’ center and an amazing view. Stiles was already shoving on his snow pants and ready to head out, though. As cozy and warm (and perfect for a romantic getaway) it was, Stiles just wanted to be outside.
“Okay!” he cheered as everyone was sorting out their things and claiming beds. “Who wants to teach me how to snowboard!”
Everyone looked at Stiles. Scott face palmed. Allison cringed. Boyd and Isaac shook their heads with varying degrees of horror. Lydia patted his shoulder sweetly. “That’s what lessons are for. Go get yourself a cute trainer and have some fun. I’ll pay for it, even. Merry Christmas!”
Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you guys are no fun.”
“It’s self preservation,” Jackson scoffed. “You’re not exactly graceful.”
“Not everyone studied ballet, Jackson.”
Jackson’s ears burned a deep red. “Lots of professional athletes do it! It helps with agility on the field!”
Stiles rolled his eyes harder, his whole head going with him this time. “Don’t be so offended. You’re contributing to toxic masculinity.” Stiles grabbed the new pair of goggles he’d gotten for the trip and made sure he had all his phone and wallet on him. “See you when I get bored or break a leg.”
“Please don’t break any bones,” Derek said from behind him. Stiles jumped. He had been so quiet brining in the last of the gear. “I’m the one responsible for all of your well beings.”
“No promises!” Stiles cheered, darting around Derek to get to the door. “See you losers later.”
“You’re the loser!” Jackson shouted back.
“Sick burn!” Stiles laughed and bounded off towards the visitors’ center.
He didn’t have his own snowboard, so he had to rent one. Despite the free lodging à la Derek Hale, Stiles still saved up a bunch for this trip. They had been living in blissful non-threating situations for over a year now and Stiles weaseled his way into clerical work at the station. It was a pretty sweet gig. He got to make sure his dad stayed on his diet while also snooping on case files.
Before he made it to the giant cabin that had a restaurant and coffee shop and rental equipment, and whatever else, Stiles, got distracted by the tingling under his skin. He wanted to shed off his winter layers and revel in the snow, but it would soak his jeans and Stiles wasn’t here for that. The crisp air filled his lungs and Stiles just felt alive and energized in a way he hadn’t in a really long time.
Maybe gardening would feel this fantastic if he lived in a city without trees.
Stares stared up towards the top of the mountain. It was glistening in the sunlight, the pans of white calling him like a sailor to the sea.
“You just going to stand there all day?”
Stiles jumped for the second time from Derek’s voice. The werewolf, a bit too obviously clad in less than appropriate winter clothes, walked right past him, heading towards the main lodge. Stiles jogged up to him, heart hammering in his chest.
“You really haven’t gone snowboarding before? Seems like your type of sport.”
Stiles laughed. “No type of sport is my type of sport. I stumble through all of them,” he grinned. “Are they all being disgusting couply already?”
Derek shrugged. “Boyd and Isaac are serious skiers, so they’re planning on going out in a bit. Allison promised to teach Erica on the bunny slope. Lydia will probably join them and take a lesson once she gets tired of Jackson, but knowing her she’s probably better than the instructors here.”
Stiles snorted, that was true. “So just Scott and Kira?”
Derek nodded. “They’re like a handful of frosting from a grocery store cake.”
Stiles fake gagged at the comparison. He loved sweets, but not that. That was too much.
“I don’t really know how to do any of this either,” Derek admitted and he pushed the visitors’ center door open. They were immediately assaulted by merch and boards and skis to buy. “Sometimes my family would rent a cabin in the mountains, my cousins and sisters and I would get into big snowball fights,” he shrugged again. “It was really more of a retreat for the adults and they didn’t ski. They just, I don’t know, ran on all fours because they could. We were secluded enough. I think we were in North Dakota? Not sure.”
“Cool,” Stiles said before tripping over his boots. Derek steadied him and gave him a side eye.
“You sure you can handle this without dying?”
“I’ve lived through literal horrors,” Stiles reminded him. “I’m not going to let some mountain defeat me!”
Derek nudged him forward to the line for rentals. “Okay. Fine. Just to cry about it if you snap a bone.”
Stiles smiled.
One of his greatest accomplishments in the past three years was making Derek Hale his friend. Like, fuck everything else. Who cares that Stiles got into Berkley or that he got an almost perfect score on the SATs or that he survived fighting against a bajillion different supernatural evil dudes. Derek Hale shares personal anecdotes with Stiles.
A snowflake landed on Stiles’s cheek, which didn’t seem weird until he remembered he was inside. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack.
“You okay?” Derek asked, brow furrowing together as he caught the erratic beating of Stiles’s heart.
Stiles was totally not okay. He was on the verge of panicking. Because he was expecting to be able to control the sudden flux in his wintertime powers. He wasn’t expecting to make it snow inside if he got a little too excited about Derek Hale.
Because if anyone asked if he liked Derek, he could tell them no. Lydia had asked. She had thought she figured everything out. She was so smug. But Stiles said no and while she pried and didn’t drop it, he’d still said no, and she knew Stiles stretched the truth a lot but she couldn’t remember him ever lying to her. Because Stiles doesn’t like Derek Hale. Stiles is head over heals in love with the asshole.
So, no. Stiles was not okay.
“Nervous.” About snowboarding? No. About making it snow inside, albeit so minimally it was undetectable? Absolutely.
Derek sighed. “I won’t let you break your legs, promise.”
Stiles’s smile grew and he felt the tingling under his skin grow. He tried to tamp it down and stop any snowfall. At least until they got outside.
Half an hour later and Stiles and Derek were queuing up for the ski lift on an easy slope. They had foregone lessons because Derek was a werewolf and would probably be a natural and if he wasn’t he’d just heal. Stiles was just an idiot. Or so Derek kept reminding him.
“It’s an easy slope, Derek. I’ll be fine!”
When they got to the top Stiles nearly brained himself getting off the ski lift, so they were off to a great start. Derek was laughing, so Stiles considered it a win.
Staring down at the slope, however, caught Stiles off guard. It wasn’t super high up, and completely clear of obstacles, so it really shouldn’t be that freaky, but the sudden idea of sliding down the hill at any speed faster than walking seemed like maybe too much.
A heavy hand settled on his shoulder. Stiles looked over to see Derek giving him an encouraging smile, soft and open and breathtaking. Little fluffs of white started to land on their heads.
“It’ll be fine. Even if you fall, you’re not going to hurt yourself.”
Stiles nodded. Derek was right. This slope was nothing. It didn’t stop his heart from jackrabbiting in his chest.
“Here,” Derek said, holding his hand out. “We’ll go down together. Slowly.”
The snow started falling a little thicker as Stiles took Derek’s hand. Stiles nodded, perhaps a bit too frantically.
After a quick tilt they were on their way, honestly moving at a snail’s pace compared to what the people on the bigger slopes were doing and they made it to the bottom without problem.
“See. Neither of us know what we’re doing and we’re fine. Wanna go again?”
“Yeah,” Stiles huffed. They kept at the easy slope all afternoon, gaining confidence and speed. Stiles even learned to stop himself at the bottom and not just waiting until his speed runs out or Derek grabs him at the last second.
The snow went on and off all day, but nothing major. Stiles thought maybe he was learning more on that end too.
It was starting to get dark when Derek suggested heading back. They had planned on a group dinner at seven so they had some time still because it got dark so early, but Stiles didn’t think he’d do well on the slopes without werewolf eyes.
Isaac and Boyd were still out, and it looked like the girls and Jackson just beat them back to the cabin. It didn’t look like Scott and Kira had moved all day.
“You two have fun?” Lydia asked a little too innocently from her spot by the fire. “You look a little flushed.”
Stiles rolled his eyes, successfully squishing his feelings down to prevent snow from falling inside. It was easy when Lydia knew how to tick him off so well. “Spent all day snowboarding. It turns out I am a natural. Thank you very much.”
Natural was true. Supernatural was truer. Stiles was double practicing on the slope. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing, but the packed snow felt like it was moving with him, and the few times he fell it softened itself a bit to cushion his impact.
It was the same with his green thumb. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but it was like he spoke a language with the plants and they listened to each other. He wanted green beans and they wanted to grow. But snow wasn’t alive. It was just frozen water. So Stiles wasn’t entirely sure how that worked, since he couldn’t control it if it wasn’t cold enough outside. But perhaps the world was more alive than science can understand, because he spoke to the snow and the ice in the same way he spoke to the flowers.
“Erica’s pretty good, too,” Allison grinned, her cheeks still a little rosy from the cold. “Maybe tomorrow we can all go out together.”
“Sounds like a plan!” Stiles cheered. “Batman and Catwoman, at it again.”
Erica rolled her eyes, but looked pleased. “I might go out with Boyd tomorrow, but we’ll make a group trip run at some point.”
Stiles nodded and looked outside. The little flurries were picking up, but he didn’t think that was his fault this time. Still, it called to him. He’d barely been inside ten minutes, but ready for more. “I’m going to take a walk,” he told the others, forgetting to grab his hat and gloves. “Text me when you plan to head out to dinner.”
“Don’t get lost,” Scott said.
Stiles raced outside and headed straight for the woods. He wouldn’t go far. He could see the light of the drive and the cabin and even the main lodge. He was fine. But he wanted to get away and try some more frost giant magic. He never got to do this kind of stuff.
Stiles wasn’t sure why he kept it a secret from the pack. He supposed it was because how his mom drove the idea home that he was a Halfling. Halfings weren’t welcome in the fey community. His mom herself was already an outcast, being a mixed fey. Stiles would have been considered not good enough to associate with at best. Killed at worst. Scott and Derek’s pack(s) were untraditional, and none of them would know of the prejudice other that Derek. Stiles seriously doubted Derek would care, but the issue was that he was a Halfling that ran with wolves. Eventually he’d be found out by the feys if the pack knew. And that would just cause more trouble.
Being free of supernatural horrors was amazing for the first time in like ever. Stiles didn’t want to stir things up now.
Besides, it’s not like any of his powers were all that useful. Unless he needed to grow some poison really quick during the summer.
Stiles sat down with his back to a tree and scooped up some snow in his hands. He watched in awe as his mind mapped out a picture of a wolf. It formed in his hand like magic and stiles giggled, there was no other word for it. Because this was magic. Stiles tightened the wolf in his mind, and then blew at the snow. A layer of fluff floated away, leaving behind a glistening ice sculpture.
There was a crunch of snow behind him and Stiles shoved the little ice sculpture into his pocket.
“Stiles?” Derek said, confusion lacing his voice.
Stiles turned, unsure what Derek had seen. He was about to babble something, but Derek was looking at him strangely.
“Um,” Stiles started.
“You’re hair’s white,” Derek said matter-of-factly.
“What!” Stiles yelped.
Derek was limply holding Stiles’s hat and gloves and Stiles realized he might have been doing this all day without realizing. He tried to pull his hair down far enough to see but it was just too short. Stiles finally scrambled for phone and turned the camera on. His eyes looked bluer, too. He looked like freaking Jack Frost.
“Oh shit.”
“Your hair wasn’t white when you left the cabin.”
I wasn’t using winter magic then.
Stiles’s looks never changed in the summer. But his hair and eyes were already the color of earth and wood.
Derek came over and crouched in front of him. “What’s going on?”
It was clear that Stiles was freaking out. That he knew what was happening to him.
“I,” Stiles started, unsure what to say. He stuttered over that word a few more times before he was able to make a coherent sentence. “I don’t know how to twist this.”
“Twist what?” Derek asked carefully.
Stiles looked again at his own hat and gloves in Derek’s hands. Derek had come after him because he forgot his hat and gloves, because Stiles would be cold.
Snow started to fall. On them. On just them.
“Twist that,” Stiles said miserably.
“Stiles, what’s going on?”
“This is my first time seeing snow since I was six,” he told Derek.
Derek nodded, just waiting for Stiles to collect his thoughts, ignoring the odd way the snow fell.
“I didn’t remember it right.”
“Is this about you being a fey?” Derek asked.
Stiles blinked rapidly. “What?” he croaked, voice squeaking.
“You smell different, Stiles. I’ve always known. Same way I knew what Kira was right away. I never liked you to start because fey are notorious mischief makers. You’ve proven yourself on that account, but you’re not malicious, so I never thought it mattered.”
Stiles heart was beating so fast. He didn’t know how to process. “No one else but my dad knows. I’m a Halfling.”
Derek nodded. “Yeah, your dad’s human. That was obvious.”
“You really knew this whole time?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded. “And you never said anything?”
Derek brushed some snow off Stiles’s hair before pushing his hat over Stiles’s head. “I was hoping you’d tell me.”
Stiles felt bad about keeping the secret for so long.
“I thought you were a brownie or something, though,” Derek said looking around at the light snowfall.
Stiles nodded. “My mom was mixed,” he said. “This side of me only comes out when it’s cold enough.” He took the ice wolf out of his pocket. It hadn’t melted in the least.
“You seemed to be really enjoying yourself today.”
Stiles couldn’t stop his face from splitting in a grin. “Yeah. It’s like. Man. I can only think this is what it must be like for you to run.”
Derek shrugged. “Running’s not that exciting anymore. Other things make my heart race now.”
“Like running for your life from demons?”
He expected Derek to make some sort of offhand comment, a subtle smile, and Stiles’s heart would stutter at how close their friendship had become. Instead, Derek stared intently at Stiles. Stiles heart still stuttered. The snowflakes were thicker as they fell on Derek’s eyelashes.
“Your eyes are getting bluer,” Derek whispered.
“We can match.” Derek may have his own pack, but he hadn’t been an alpha since saving Cora’s life. His eyes shifted their blazing blue. His breath caught in his throat. “I always thought that look was beautiful.”
“You’re always beautiful,” Derek confessed.
Their lips touched, slightly frozen. They melted into each other, both sort of at a loss they this was happening. Stiles’s phone buzzed in his pocket.
He groaned as he pulled away. Derek brushed away the thickening layer of snow on them, a smug look on his face.
LYDIA >> if you’re not making out with him right now I’ve failed as match maker. Also, come back. Boyd and Isaac are here.
“I hate our friends,” Stiles groaned
Later, after Stiles broke the news that he was in fact part ice fey to the whole pack, the understandably responded by asking him to reenact Let It Go. He was still afraid fey might find out that he was a Halfling, but he supposed he always knew these assholes would protect him. The rest of the trip though… maybe it was a good thing it felt like a couples’ retreat. And somehow, even when they made it back to Beacon Hills, that little wolf ice sculpture never melted.
