Written for Panicatrivendell on tumblr for the Sterek Haven Secret Santa.

He's been gone since September. It's been months since the last time he was in Beacon Hills, since he left with Cora with no real intention of ever returning.

He isn't sure why he's come back now. He'd set out from Cora's little house in Argentina the week before Christmas with no destination in mind and he's pulling into the parking lot outside the loft in the early evening four days later.

Derek opens the heavy door with one hand, throwing the duffle back across his opposite shoulder and walking inside, closing the door behind him.

And then he stops.

Everything looks different. The loft is full of furniture that he doesn't recognise and it's the ratty old things he remembers having left there.

He doesn't know how long he's standing there completely confused before the door rolls open behind him and a familiar voice cuts through the heavy silence, "Welcome home, Sourwolf."

Derek looks over to see Stiles in his doorway, illuminated by the light of the hallway. There's a lilt to the line of his mouth that says something Derek isn't sure he can understand.

"The furniture's different," Derek replies, looking around.

"Your old furniture was pretty beat up. I figured you'd want something new for when you came back. Do you like it?" Stiles asks, looking a little unsure.

And, Derek isn't sure what to think about that. He almost hadn't come back here and when he was riding up the elevator, he still wasn't sure that he was staying but...

Stiles had given him furniture. Stiles had given him something to come home to.

He didn't expect anyone to miss him while he was gone and... then he came back to this.

"You did all this?" He asks him, cataloging the reactions of his face.

"Well, yeah. Who else was going to do it? You lived here for months without anything other than a mattress."

"Why? Why would you do all this for me?" Derek replies. Stiles blinks in response.

"You deserve it."

And he just said it so matter of factly. Like it was obvious.

"I. I don't. Why are you doing this?" Derek feels like he's falling apart. Like everything is twisted up and impossible to understand.

He doesn't get Stiles. He doesn't think he deserves a home here, and Stiles has made him one anyway. He's... He just...

"Derek. I like you, dude." Stiles says softly, his cheeks a little red with embarrassment.

"You hate me."

"I don't hate you. I haven't hated you in a long time. I don't just decorate anyone's apartment, you know." Stiles smirks a little then, the embarrassment fading from his face.

"What do you want from me, Stiles?"

"I just wanted you to come home."

-x-

On Christmas morning, Stiles shows up at the loft with a box wrapped in blue starred wrapping paper. He just shakes his head when Derek tries to open it, so Derek sets it down on his coffee table and waits for Stiles.

"My dad's expecting us for breakfast. He's got to go into work this afternoon, so hurry up and get ready."

"Why is your dad-"

"It's Christmas, dumbass. Of course he's expecting you."

He wants to argue with Stiles, and he thinks, on the way there, he might.

But now, he just nods and heads into his bedroom to change his clothes.

-x-

The sheriff is sliding a pancake on a tall stack on the kitchen table when they walk in. He nods at Derek and turns to switch off the stovetop, not saying anything.

"Dude, just sit already." Stiles tells him, pointing to a chair in front of an empty plate. And there are three of them. The sheriff really had been expecting him.

So Derek sits down at the kitchen table of the Stilinski house and he fills his plate with pancakes and bacon and eggs, and then Stiles and his dad are there too. It feels a little awkward until Stiles starts talking and then, it feels natural to be there.

Derek hardly flinches when the sheriff calls him son when he leaves the room, slapping a hand on his shoulder.

-x-

When the sheriff leaves, Derek almost leaves too. But Stiles stops him with a smile and a box wrapped in glittery pink paper and that's that.

"For your birthday.''

-x-

When Derek goes back to the loft with a stomach full of Chinese food, he opens the blue wrapped gift and smiles.

Merry Christmas, Derek. I'm really glad you're home.

And for the first time, Derek thinks he might be too.