twas the night before christmas (set on 12/24)

[triskehale]

This time of year is especially hard for Derek. Part of him wants to just keep to himself, to disappear for awhile, but that won't solve anything. It won't make him feel any better. So he does his best to keep moving forward, and he seeks out the people who make him feel good.

It's Christmas Eve, and Derek heads out into the chill to bring Bitty's gift to him. It's neatly wrapped, and he's pretty excited to give it to him. He thinks it'll go over pretty well, and he has a small smile on his face by the time he knocks on Bitty's door.

"Open up," he calls out, "Santa came early."

Comments

[triskehale]

"The word," Derek says instantly, curling his arm protectively around the plate like someone might try to take it from him. The meat is delicious, and he can't identify all the spices but they're incredible. Eating this pie makes him feel relaxed, and a little like he wants to roll over and get a belly rub.

He looks up to give Bitty a wide, easy smile, licking sauce from his fangs before he digs in for another bite. He doesn't really stop until the slice is all gone, and then he gives the plate a sad little whine that he would probably be embarrassed about if he hadn't just eaten such delicious werewolf pie.

[puckandpie]

It's hard not to laugh at his reaction. He curls his arm around the plate even, like a puppy trying to protect his food. He finishes in record speed, almost looks sad when it's all gone and I just. Goodness. This boy.

Right now, right in this second, that smile is almost enough to convince me I stand a chance.

I disappear into the kitchen before I let it get out of hand, grabbing the rest of the pie off the counter and, settling it down in front of him. "I honestly didn't think you'd eat the whole thing in one sitting, but you absolutely can if you want. I'm so glad you like it! I was a little afraid it'd just taste like a mess. I mean, I tried a little myself and it didn't seem all that special. I suppose that recipe knew what it was talkin' about though."

[triskehale]

"I suppose it did. Between whatever the hell is in this and you making it, I never stood a chance," Derek tells him, eyes widening when Bitty brings out the rest of the pie. "I want to eat it all, but I also don't want it to be gone."

He settles for cutting himself another (big) slice, and curls up on the sofa with the plate against his chest as he eats. "Want to try the skates on and make sure that they fit as well as that jacket?"

[puckandpie]

I'm absolutely reading way too much into that statement, I know that much even when it hits my ears and makes everything inside me go warm. I know he's just complimenting my cooking, but it feels like so much more.

Get ahold of yourself, Bittle. Goodness.

My eyes fall back to the box on the table, skates gleaming and I let out a shaky breath before nodding. "I'm a little afraid to mess 'em up already," I confess, but I take a seat on the couch beside him all the same and reach out to pull the right skate out, my fingers reverent over the leather of the boot. Carefully balancing the blade in my lap, I pull the laces aside enough to slip my foot in, completely unsurprised to find it fits like a glove. It's still, of course, from lack of use, but I can already tell it fits perfectly. "Did you steal my skates when I wasn't lookin' to find out the size?" I ask, glancing over at him with a small grin.

[triskehale]

"They're meant to be worn," Derek assures him, watching him as he takes them out of the box. He smiles at the way that Bitty touches the skates, and he knows that he made the right decision in getting them. It seems to fit so well and Derek grins, cutting a sly look over at Bitty. "I might have. So you like them?"

It's a dumb question. It's obvious that he likes them, and Derek is glad to have made him so happy. Worth every penny.

[puckandpie]

Slipping my left foot into the other skate, I glance up at Derek with a smirk. "That, Mr. Hale, is possibly the dumbest question anyone has ever asked me, and someone once asked if I'd ever heard of Beyonce. Of course I like them, you sill wolf. I love them."

Once both skates are laced up, I stretch out my legs, admiring how they look, all sleek and gorgeous, the blades sticking out proudly. I don't stand, afraid of dulling them too soon, but they sure do look nice.

"And they fit perfectly," I say, giving him a small smile. There's still a weight in my gut, still an ache from missing my family and from dinner yesterday with Simon, but it feels a little less overbearing now. I feel warm.