Fics like Gold, Frankinscents and Myrrhderous eyebrows.

“That was supposed to be Scott's Christmas present,” Stiles groans. “We gathered that. You unwrapped it yourself and threw the tag at Liam’s head,” Derek mumbles from his hiding place under his arm. “You sang Happy Christmas to Scott in the tune of Happy Birthday while forcing us all to drink it.” "Oh my god, please stop talking now,” Stiles sits up again. Derek peeks out from under his arm to look at him with one eye open, dark hair adorably rumpled, so much so that Stiles wants to smooth it down. Stiles sits on his hands. “You did this to me. I'm going to be hungover on Christmas day because of you." Derek growls accusingly. “Ok, ok! Look I’ll go make us my famous hangover cure and we can call it even,” Stiles gallantly pushes to his feet and grabs his phone, which is inexplicably in one of his shoes. “We don’t have to be there until two, it’s not even midday yet.” “Fine. Make me coffee. So much coffee,” Derek pulls the sheets over his head. "Are we going to discuss how we ended up sharing a bed?" Stiles wiggles his eyebrows. “Or would you like to just blissfully ignore it, oh Alpha mine." “The second one," Derek mumbles from under the sheet.

Fics like Gold, Frankinscents and Myrrhderous eyebrows.

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