Sterek One Shots

A Sterek-y Christmas

A Sterek-y Christmas by ReluctantSlashFan

Derek opened his loft door, taking a step back when a large box was shoved into his hands. A pair of caramel eyes and a pale, mole splattered face peeked over the edge, and Stiles grinned, cheerfully exclaiming, "Merry Christmas!"

"What the hell is this?" Derek asked slowly, deadpan, looking down at the box.

"Decorations, duh," Stiles replied turning towards the lift. "Now help me drag this old tree inside."

"What?" Derek set the box down and trailed after Stiles, stopping short when he spotted a battered looking box sitting on the lift's floor. He ran a hand through his hair, pinching the bridge of his nose, and said, "Why are you bothering me? Don't you have anything better to do today?"

"Nope," Stiles answered, popping his p, and grabbed the edge of the box. He proceeded to drag it from the lift, walking past Derek, and good-naturedly stated, "This is going to be fun."

With a tired sigh, Derek turned and followed Stiles back into his loft, shutting the door behind him. Looking down at the younger guy, he rolled his eyes at the Santa hat sitting on the teen's head, watching as he dragged tangled Christmas lights from the first box, the Christmas tree laying abandon at his side.

"Untangle these," Stiles said tossing the lights at the werewolf. Instinctually, Derek caught them, looking down at them helplessly. "I'm going to hang tinsel over your door." Shaking his head, Derek dragged the lights across the room, taking a seat on the couch.

As he began attempting to untangle the lights, he glanced up at Stiles and asked, "This isn't going to become a thing, is it? You decorating my loft for every holiday?"

"Lydia volunteered for Valentine's Day," Stiles responded with a smirk, pulling green and red tinsel from the box. "Scott wants Easter. Isaac said something about next Thanksgiving."

"Of course they did." Derek returned his attention to the lights, somehow managing to get them even more tangled. Silently fuming, he tried another technique, but the lights stayed stubbornly knotted. With a frustrated sigh, Derek tossed the lights on the floor and stood up.

Stiles gave him a confused look, looking completely ridiculous clutching the tinsel to his chest, and Derek slowly said, "They're not untangling."

"That's because you don't have the Stilinski touch," Stiles replied moving forward. He handed Derek the tinsel, bending down to pick up the lights.

"The Stilinski touch?" Derek gave Stiles an incredulous look, tilting his head to the side.

"Yes, Derek, the Stilinski touch," Stiles said smugly. "Unless you want to spend all day willing the lights to untangle with your brooding stare."

Derek's eyes narrowed and he dropped the tinsel, crossing his arms. "Okay hotshot, let's see this alleged touch."

"Stand back and be marveled." Derek rolled his eyes, but still gestured for Stiles to continue. To his amazement, Stiles' nimble fingers untangled the lights in a little under five minutes. "Boom!" The teen celebrated, raising his hands above his head. "Suck it lights, I am your god now!"

"Shut up," Derek grumbled stooping down to pick up the tinsel. "Where do you want this crap again?"

"Oh, do I sense some hostility; a little jealousy perhaps? Is Ickle Derek mad because big, bad Stiles defeated the evil lights?"

"I will bite you," Derek half-heartedly threatened, scowling.

"Promises, promises," Stiles retorted in a sing-song voice. His face immediately turned red when he realized what he said, and he cleared his throat, looking away from Derek. "We should, uh, probably put the tree up."

"Yeah," Derek agreed nodding his head, glancing back at the floor.

"So, I'll just take these to... Oh crap." Stiles somehow managed to get his feet tangled in the lights, his body jolting forward as he tripped. Derek reacted quickly, reaching out to stop the teens fall, their faces inches apart, foreheads brushing against each other.

"Uh, hi," Stiles said softly, his breath ghosting across Derek's face.

"Hi," Derek whispered still gripping Stiles' forearms.

"We should keep decorating," Stiles murmured but didn't pull away.

"Yeah," Derek agreed making no move to actually let the teen go, "we should definitely get right on that." He leaned forward, lips brushing against Stiles's, only to jolt backwards when someone cleared their throat.

As one, both guys turned to see Lydia standing in the doorway, hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised in question. "Am I interrupting something?"

Derek glanced down, realizing he was still holding onto Stiles' arms, and let him go, taking a step away from him. Stiles ruffled his hair, shaking his head. "Uh, no, no you're not," he answered crouching down to untangle his shoes from the lights.

"Uh-huh," Lydia stated skeptical. She sighed, dropping her arms from her hips, and turned to the fake tree still sitting on the floor. "If you're sure, we should probably put this thing up. I still don't see why you didn't get a real one; they're much prettier."

As Lydia continued complaining about the tree, Stiles and Derek shared a quick look, their eyes darting away when they made eye contact.

"We should probably..." Derek started.

"Yeah," Stiles agreed nodding, both stepping forward to help Lydia, nearly running into each other. Derek gestured for Stiles to go first, very much aware of Lydia scoffing and whispering, "Idiots."