Random kissing shouldn't be a seasonal thing

Chapter 3: Curtain!

It was mid-February when the mistletoe came into play again. By then, it had slipped Stiles' mind. All through December, that pesky twig had been on his mind. He had considered arranging a "chance" encounter with Derek under the mistletoe. The problem was that he didn't dare. Instead of doing something, he'd simply kept hoping that it would happen naturally, which it didn't, of course. Because life hated him.

Stiles paused in the doorway of Derek's apartment. The mistletoe was the farthest thing from his mind. He was gauging the mood of the place – was Derek cranky today? do one-legged ducks swim in circles? – before deciding whether it was safe to enter. That was the moment that Scott, whose timing was usually pretty decent, appeared next to him.

'Hi guys,' Scott said. Derek, looking irritated, mumbled something back. Lydia glanced up from the book she was annotating and gestured at the mistletoe. Stiles face-palmed. Honestly, he'd forgotten all about it. Because it was February dammit and other Christmas-related plants had died a sad, silent death a long time ago. As they should have.

Stiles made eye contact with Scott, who shrugged slightly. Though completely unbound by holiday tradition, Stiles decided to humour Lydia. The poor girl must have been starved for entertainment, because she looked like she was about to start chanting, 'Kiss, kiss, kiss.'

'Finally!' Stiles exclaimed, faking an excitement he didn't feel. He then proceeded to suck face pretty enthusiastically with a mellow and accommodating Scott for a while. Scott tasted of peanut butter, which was an acquired taste at the best of times and – when locking lips with your best friend – it was quite possibly the grossest flavour ever.

When they unclasped, Derek brusquely brushed past them and stomped out of the apartment.

'Someone's jealous,' Lydia remarked. Stiles checked to see whether Scott knew what she was talking about. Scott clearly didn't have a clue.

'Uh, what?' Stiles eloquently inquired. Lydia fixed him with a look that could have cut glass.

'He likes you.'

'Oh, yeah, he likes me so much that he's always threatening to kill me,' Stiles scoffed. Lydia, in an amazing feat of self-restraint, refrained from rolling her eyes.

'That's just his excuse to get close to you, get up in your face, touch you, stare at you for inappropriate periods of time, etc.,' she summed up, making it sound obvious. Stiles, reeling, considered this wholly new perspective.

'He does… do that. A lot,' he eventually admitted. 'So, according to you, when Derek says something like, 'I'm going to rip your throat out with my teeth' that's his demented way of saying 'Hey, I like you'?'

Lydia nodded sagely. Stunned, Stiles stared at her and, after very little thought, bolted for the door.

'Derek! Derek! Wait!'

Stiles ran outside. He probably would have run straight into oncoming traffic if Derek hadn't been there to stop him.

'What? What do you want?'

Catching his breath, Stiles thought of a response. You, while true, seemed a little too direct. But maybe direct was exactly the way to go? After all, if Derek liked him and he liked Derek then why the hell weren't they making out right now?

'I'm going to kiss you, okay?' Stiles announced. Derek took the news like a champ.

'There's no mistletoe here,' he pointed out.

'Still going to, though. If that's okay,' Stiles carefully made sure. Derek nodded and leaned forward. Stiles did the same. They ended up against the side of the building; kissing as if their lives depended on it. Stiles buried his fingers in Derek's hair. Derek pushed his hands underneath Stiles' shirt. They clung to each other, preparing to end the kiss a dozen times only to discover that: no, they didn't want to be apart.

Every time Stiles thought that this was really the last kiss for now so he'd better enjoy it, he could almost hear his entire being protesting. Here, it said, one more for the road and, here, let me give you another one for the money and two for the show and three to get ready, because I'm not ready to stop touching and tasting you just yet. Maybe not ever.

They would have to not-kiss eventually. Rationally, Stiles knew this. He would have to sleep and eat and do other fairly essential stuff, but right now their bodies were fitting so nicely together and Derek was a spectacular kisser and wow. Just wow. Miraculously, their mouths managed to separate for a moment. Stubbornly, Stiles held onto the back of Derek's neck and kissed him again.

Their second kiss lasted even longer than the first. It was softer; consisting of a series of slowly deepening pecks and Derek's thumbs gently stroking the skin of Stiles' stomach. Stiles didn't know what to do except surrender completely. He sighed. Derek reacted by pulling him closer at the waist. Oh, that felt… Like they needed a bed to finish this properly. They started the process of wrapping up the kiss and, again, they struggled to let go of each other. They barely succeeded.

'So, you like me?' Stiles finally asked, tenderly touching his lips with his fingertips. Derek barked out a laugh.

'I more than like you.'

'You wanna gut me like a pig and dump my body in the woods?' Stiles reverse-deciphered. Derek shot him a disturbed look.

'What?'

'Just translating that into Derek-speak,' Stiles explained, smiling. Derek shook his head.

'You're so weird.'

'Uh huh. Let's go back inside and make Scott and Lydia leave,' Stiles suggested. Derek immediately made for the apartment. Stiles eagerly followed and consequently bumped into a suddenly standing still Derek. The werewolf turned around and, before Stiles knew what was happening, they were in the middle of their third kiss.

'What was that for?' he stammered afterwards. His heart was beating overtime and he felt tingly all over.

'Just because,' Derek replied. He grinned and grabbed Stiles' hand. Seriously, Stiles thought, random kissing is the best.

The end.