Stiles is well on his way to be tipsy. The eggnog is Lydia's very own festive blend. He will regret tomorrow. Most definitely. Good thing the office is closed tomorrow. So he can wallow in his hangover.
Stiles thinks he's drunk enough to dance. Definitely drunk enough not to notice anyone in front of him until he crashes into a solid frame.
His reindeer headband goes askew, crookedly on his head when he looks up from the garish Christmas sweater. It has bells. And lights. It's very distracting.
"Shit," he blurts out when it's the dark scowl of Derek Hale, managing director of acquisitions, wearing a Christmas sweater that could blind Santa himself. "I mean, Merry Christmas?"
Derek looks unimpressed. Well, as unimpressed someone can be in a sweater with it's own light display.
"Watch where you're going," Derek says before taking Stiles' shoulders to move him out of his way.
Stiles would protest more if he wasn't drunk. And distracted by Derek's sweater. How someone can still pull off being that ridiculously good-looking in that monstrosity is Christmas miracle.
He's half stumbled out of Derek's way when senior vice president Laura Hale appears. Stiles wonders if this is how he'll get fired. Scott is supposed to be watching him and keeping him from making these bad career moves. And not be that guy who made out with a plant. But Stiles spots Scott spinning Allison from R&D around the dance floor.
"Gah," Stiles manages, nearly sloshing the remaining third of his red Solo cup onto the floor. A miracle it didn't end up on Derek.
"Derek! And-I don't remember your name," Laura frowns. She's wearing an equally garish sweater. Her's has wolves frolicking with candy canes. Like a glitter bomb exploded.
"Uhh-" Stiles thinks he should be silent. They can't fire him if they don't know who he is.
"Stiles," says Derek. And Stiles' eyebrows raise. He's not even under Derek in a management sense. He reports to Morrell.
"Stiles," Laura says with a dimpled smile, eyeing her brother. "Well, since you two know each other, then you won't mind upholding Christmas tradition."
A camera materializing from behind her back.
"What," Stiles begins but he notices that Derek hasn't let go of his shoulder nor realized that he's been corralled right under a sprig of mistletoe.
"Pucker up for the camera!" says Laura. Stiles is ready to argue with the senior vice president but Derek is already claiming his mouth for a kiss. It's soft and chaste and over too quickly. Enough for him to be blinded by the flash.
Derek's arm however, doesn't let go.
"Is your sweater stuck in my antlers?" Stiles asks, he needs more eggnog for this.
"No," Derek says tersely.
Stiles thinks tomorrow will end with breakfast for two.