Stora Week - Day 7
Holidays
Stiles is going to kiss Cora by the end of the day if it kills him.
Actually, he probably shouldn't tempt fate like that, but whatever. He's waited three years for this; anything that wants to kill him can just wait its goddamn turn.
"Hey, Cora," Stiles calls from the doorway into his dad's kitchen, "can you come help me hang this?"
"I'm kind of busy," comes the muffled reply. When he peeks around the corner, he see's Cora's feet poking out from under Christmas tree. She must be fixing the lights because they keep flickering on periodically before dying again. "Ask Derek to help. He's not doing anything."
"Or I could help," Stiles' dad suggests from right beside him. He jumps, making his dad snort.
"Uh, sure. Just-" Stiles searches for a reason anyone would ever need help hanging mistletoe, "just tell me when it's even?"
He climbs the step-ladder quickly to avoid his dad's knowing smirk.
"So, is Melissa coming to this shindig tonight?" Stiles asks pointedly, because two can play this game.
"As a matter of fact, she has to work. But she promised to come by tomorrow with Scott for left-overs."
"Good. Scott needs to give me back my Psych textbook. Why didn't you warn us sharing a textbook was going to be a huge hassle?" Stiles laughs at his father's pained sigh, because that's exactly what he warned them when Stiles mentioned their plan at the beginning of the semester.
"Now that it's up," Stiles' dad says once the mistletoe is in place, "take it down." At Stiles' offended squawk, he continues, "It's a sexual harassment case waiting to happen, kid. What were you thinking?"
"You just like to screw with me, don't you?"
His dad nods somberly.
"I was thinking," Stiles answers tersely as he makes his way down the ladder, "that this year's work party might actually get interesting."
"Hey, my parties are always a hit."
"You're their boss, they have to tell you that. Wait, I can prove it to you. Hey, Derek?" he calls out the back door, where Derek is manning the grill, "What do you think of my dad's mashed potatoes?"
"They're good?" come the uncertain reply after a beat too long.
"There," Stiles says triumphantly, "you see? Your potatoes taste like drywall. He's only saying that because he's your Deputy, and he's new."
"Hey," both Derek and his dad protest in unison.
"I'm just saying," Stiles throws his hands up in surrender. "But I do see your point with this guy," he shakes the mistletoe in hand, "so I'm just going to throw it up in my room. On my desk, not in the doorway. Relax."
Before Stiles can run off, his dad pulls him in by the back of the head and plants a kiss to his forehead.
"Mistletoe," he explains when he walks away, amused.
"Goddammit."
~*~*~
"So," Stiles slides into the recently vacated seat next to Cora on the couch.
The party's been in full swing for a few hours, and is finally winding down. It's basically the perfect time to make his move. He nervously fiddles with the mistletoe tucked into the palm of his right hand, hidden behind his back. It's not his smoothest idea - to just hold the plant over her head and hope she likes him back enough to kiss him in spite of his awful plan - but it's also far from his worst, so he's running with it.
"So," she says back, amused, after it's clear Stiles isn't going to continue.
He clears his throat nervously, and starts, "Hey, look what I fou-"
"Cora!" Derek yells from the kitchen. "What's that perfume you bought Lydia this year?"
Cora rolls her eyes. "He's such a heathen," she tells Stiles as she stands. "Hold that thought."
She does squeeze his shoulder as she passes him on the way to the kitchen, so that has to count for something, right?
~*~*~
Alright, so the mistletoe is a bust. Stiles can admit defeat. Well, he can admit when a tactic isn't working.
"Hey, can I steal you for a minute?" Stiles asks Cora when there's a lull in her conversation with Officer Diaz.
Once they politely extract themselves from him and are safely down the empty hallway towards the back of the house, she sighs in relief. "That guy is the most boring person I have ever met."
"I know, right? Last year, he ranked celery from favorite to least favorite way to eat it."
"Aren't there only-"
"Uh-huh."
Cora laughs, and Stiles' heart clenches. He wants to make her laugh all the time. He wants her, in every way.
Just as he's about lean in and let his lips do the talking, he hears Diaz say, "Cora, I think you dropped-"
"Oh my god, just give us a minute!" Stiles says, so beyond frustrated.
Diaz's eyes widen. "Sorry, just, your phone." He hands the device over, and leaves with another quick apology.
"I have been trying to kiss you all day, but clearly the universe is trying to tell me something," he blurts quickly once Diaz is out of earshot because he really just needs her to know, and he's not risking another interruption.
Cora's lips twitch at the corners. "I know."
"Oh." His stomach plummets. He quickly brushes it off because, okay, so she knew he wanted to kiss her and still let herself be distracted all afternoon. That just means he's going to have to step up his game. He can do that. No big deal.
"Yeah, I kind of figured it out when I noticed you left this behind." She says, pulling the sprig of mistletoe out from her back pocket. It's a little smushed, but otherwise looks fine.
"Well, I thought," he can feel his face heat, "'tis the season and all that, you know? I'll just-"
Before he can grab the plant back, Cora holds it up over their heads, leans in, and kisses him briefly. He's too stunned to kiss back.
"'Tis the season?" Cora repeats, eyebrows raised in amusement.
"Shut up," Stiles says, and kisses away her laughter.
