I'm tired and it's winter 🥱❄️

Baby, please come home

by tiredwinter | fluff | 2k

Breaking into his neighbour's house wasn't on Harry's Christmas checklist.

~~~~~~

Derek Hale had been called many things in his life.

Monster.

Alpha.

Grumpy.

Emotionally constipated.

Stiles had a list that was somehow still growing.

But he had never been called bald.

Until today.

“Derek.”

"Please don't.”

Stiles blinked. “I haven’t even said anything.”

“You’re looking at me like you’re about to say something annoying.”

“That’s because I am.”

Derek sighed and continued chopping vegetables. “What is it?”

Stiles walked around the kitchen island, studying him carefully.

“You know, I never noticed before.”

Derek slowly lowered the knife.

“Noticed what?”

“That you’re basically one bad haircut away from being bald.”

The kitchen went silent.

Peter, sitting at the table drinking coffee, immediately looked interested.

“Oh, this should be good.”

Derek stared at Stiles.

“I’m sorry?”

Stiles waved his hands. “No, no, hear me out. I’m not saying you’re bald. I’m saying you have the energy of someone who could be bald.”

Peter nodded thoughtfully. “He does.”

Derek looked between them. “Why are you both like this?”

“Because,” Stiles explained, “you have the whole intimidating, brooding, emotionally unavailable thing going on. Bald men in movies always have that vibe.”

“I have hair.”

“Currently.” Stiles laughs.

Derek’s eyes narrowed.

Peter leaned forward. “I have to admit, I’m curious. What would Derek look like bald?”

“Peter.”

“I’m just asking.”

“You’re imagining it.” Derek accuses.

“I absolutely am.”

Stiles grinned. “I think he’d still look terrifying.”

“Thank you,” Derek said.

“Like a villain who owns a very expensive car and tells everyone he doesn’t care about anyone.”

Derek stared.

“That’s literally just me now.”

“Exactly. You’d just have less hair.”

Peter laughed so hard he nearly choked on his coffee.

Derek looked betrayed. “You’re enjoying this.”

“Immensely.”

Stiles walked over and wrapped his arms around Derek from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder.

“For the record,” he said, suddenly softer, “I would still love you if you were bald.”

Derek relaxed slightly.

Then Stiles added, “I’d just buy you a bunch of tiny hats.”

The relaxation disappeared.

“Stiles.”

“Little ones. Ones that make your head look huge.”

“I’m leaving.”

“You live here.”

“Then I’m emotionally checking the fuck out.”

Peter smiled into his coffee.

After years of knowing Derek, after watching him lose everything and rebuild himself piece by piece, Peter never thought he’d see the day someone could make Derek look genuinely defeated.

Not by claws.

Not by hunters.

Not by enemies.

By the terrifying power of Stiles Stilinski and a hypothetical lack of hair.

“Honestly,” Peter said, shaking his head, “I think the bald jokes might be the most dangerous thing you’ve ever survived.”

Derek looked at him.

“Whose side are you on?”

Peter considered.

“Stiles’.”

“Traitor.” Derek mumbled.

~~~~~~

Stiles had faced a lot of terrifying things in his life.

Nogitsunes.

Alphas.

Hunters.

His own questionable decision making skills after three cups of coffee and no sleep.

None of those things prepared him for his alpha wearing glasses.

It was an accident that he found out, technically.

Stiles had stopped by the loft because Derek had forgotten his phone, which was honestly a very Derek thing to do. The man could remember every single detail about everyone else’s safety plans but somehow managed to leave his keys, wallet, or phone behind at least twice a week.

“Derek?” Stiles called as he stepped inside.

No answer.

He frowned and walked farther in.

Then he stopped.

Completely stopped.

Because Derek Hale was sitting on the couch, wearing a worn out shirt, reading a book, and wearing glasses.

Glasses.

Actual glasses.

Stiles’ brain immediately stopped functioning.

“Whoa.”

Derek looked up.

And somehow that made it worse.

“What?”

Stiles opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

“You have glasses.”

Derek blinked. “Yes.”

“You have been hiding glasses from me.”

“I haven’t been hiding them.”

“You absolutely have.”

Derek frowned. “I wear them when I read.”

“Do you understand how unfair that is?”

Derek stared at him.

Stiles pointed at him helplessly.

“You already have the whole tall, brooding, mysterious werewolf thing going on. You cannot just add glasses. There are rules.”

“What rules?”

“The rules of not making my life harder.”

Derek’s mouth twitched.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I am being incredibly reasonable.”

At that moment, Kira and Isaac walked in carrying food.

They immediately stopped when they saw Stiles staring at Derek.

Isaac looked between them.

“What happened?”

Stiles pointed.

“Glasses.”

Isaac looked at Derek.

Then at Stiles.

Then back at Derek.

“…That’s it?”

“That’s it?” Stiles repeated, horrified. “Isaac, look at him.”

Isaac looked again.

“He looks the same.”

Kira tilted her head.

“No, I get it.”

Stiles whipped around. “Thank you.”

Kira nodded thoughtfully. “It’s the contrast.”

“Exactly.”

“The scary werewolf guy suddenly looks like he helps people with their taxes.”

Derek took off his glasses. “I’m never wearing them again.”

“No,” Stiles said immediately. “Put them back on.”

Derek paused.

Isaac smirked. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“I am having a revelation.”

“About glasses?”

“About the fact that Derek Hale apparently has unlimited ways to be annoyingly attractive.”

The room went silent.

Stiles froze.

Kira’s eyes widened slightly.

Isaac slowly looked at Derek.

Derek looked very pleased with himself.

Stiles immediately pointed at him.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t look smug. You don’t get to know you’re pretty.”

Derek leaned back against the couch, glasses still in hand.

“I’m pretty?”

Stiles immediately regretted every life choice that had led him to this moment.

“Nope. Never mind. Conversation over. I’m leaving.”

“You walked in here.”

“Exactly. And now I’m walking out because I have dignity.”

“You don’t have dignity,” Isaac said.

“I have some.”

“You told a werewolf his glasses were a personal attack.”

“A valid personal attack.”

Derek put his glasses back on.

Stiles stopped mid step.

Everyone noticed.

Derek’s expression softened.

And Stiles, despite all his years of surviving impossible things, realized he had found his greatest weakness.

Not claws.

Not fangs.

Not supernatural threats.

Just Derek Hale quietly reading a book while wearing glasses.

Absolutely devastating.