/\\\
"Presents," Stiles said, throwing the tea towel on the kitchen bench.
"Your father is coming up the driveway; you can wait."
Stiles sighed and stepped closer to Derek. "You're going to have to kiss me until he gets here then so I can hold out."
Derek sighed and pulled Stiles into a kiss. "If I must."
"You get very Victorian when he's here."
"How?" Derek asked, nipping at the skin below Stiles' ear.
"You won't kiss me when he's in the room. It's adorable."
"I kiss you when he's here."
"Not when he's close by."
Derek frowned down at Stiles.
Stiles shook his head. "You're misunderstanding – it's rather cute that you're scared of my dad."
"He does own a gun and could cover up my murder."
Stiles laughed. "He's a pussy cat."
The doorbell rang and Derek kissed Stiles again before slipping from the kitchen to open the door.
Stiles rushed into the lounge room and sank down into the floor before the tree so that he could start separating the presents out.
"I know you like gifts," Sam said, walking into the room, "but this is ridiculous."
Stiles turned around and smiled at his father. "Hey, Dad, Merry Christmas."
Sam dropped a bag of gifts by the doorway and walked into the lounge room. "He's the same now as he was when he was a little kid, Derek. I hope you know what you're in for."
"I do," Derek said sitting next to Sam.
Sam clapped him on the shoulder. "Good."
"I don't think I like being talked about like this," Stiles said, pulling his head out from under the Christmas tree.
"Then you should probably stop shaking every present that you find that has your name on it."
"There are just so many of them."
Sam shook his head. "I know. Derek spoils you."
"Most of them aren't from me," Derek defended.
"A bunch of my friends and I from uni exchanged gifts," Stiles explained. "And I saved them all."
"Of course you did."
"Are you saving some for the pack thing tonight?" Sam asked.
Stiles made a face at his father. "It's Christmas. I don't have to wait anymore and you want me to pace myself."
Stiles looked at his father and Derek who were both looking at him with indulgence.
"Am I too old to be this excited about Christmas presents?" Stiles asked, nervous.
Derek shook his head and slid down onto the floor next to Stiles. "My mum always liked Christmas in a vivacious way – like you. She'd string the whole house with lights and she'd put up this Christmas village on the dining room table – we had to eat in the living room for all of December. She'd make a gingerbread house and everything. I like having Christmas spirit in the house again. I like you and your Christmas spirit being in the house."
"Even if I'm too excited about presents?" Stiles asked sidling closer.
"No such thing," Derek replied, looking at Stiles suspiciously.
Stiles smiled and leaned forward to peck Derek on the lips.
"Do you want to open your presents?" Derek asked, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"I told you, you get Victorian."
"He's your father," Derek hissed.
"Yes, I am, and I don't have a problem with you kissing my son in front of me."
Derek looked trapped and flushed. Stiles took pity on him and turned to his presents. "What should I open first?"
/\\\