Just a bit of seasonal fluff in which there is pining and misunderstandings and awkward car rides in the snow on Christmas Eve. Happy Holidays!
“What,” Stiles says, and he’s aware that he doesn’t quite make it a question, but he currently can’t feel his toes so he figures he’s allowed.
“Do you want a ride home or not?” Derek huffs impatiently, each word forming a visible cloud in the cold night air as he digs around in Stiles’ trunk to grab as many bags as he can carry and transfer them to his own car.
“No, but seriously. What.” Stiles has got his arms wrapped around himself against the chill, bouncing on the balls of his feet to try to keep warm, and he can’t stop glancing surreptitiously at his stalled Jeep like he can make it start running again out of sheer desperation. When he called his dad to tell him he’d broken down thirty miles out of town on his way back home for winter break, the last thing he was expecting was an equally surly as he is scruffy werewolf to come and collect him.
Derek throws the last bag into his car, closes the hatch a little too roughly, and sighs at Stiles in exasperation. “I am doing you a favor right now. The correct response is, ‘thank you, Derek, please enjoy the next two hours of my shutting up.’”
“Yeah right,” Stiles snorts.
Derek mutters something up at the sky and then gets into the driver’s side. Stiles would argue more, but he’s not an idiot, so he scrambles to get into the passenger side before Derek decides to leave without him.