There should be fic where someone texts and there’s a hilarious typo confusing knitting/knotting that leads to Shenanigans. Because once Stiles starts thinking about it, hehas…
AW SHIT, LET’S GET SOME GIFT OF THE MAGI SHIT UP IN HERE.
“I wanted to—talk to you,” Stiles says. “I wanted—I appreciate. This is—god, I am really nervous.”
“Oh,” Derek says, thinking, fuck. He wonders if the knitting place takes returns.
“You’ve been really patient,” Stiles is saying, “I know it’s been—anyhow,” he says, and then smiles, lit up. “I’m ready,” he says. “And my dad is, um, working tonight, so—”
“Huh?” Derek says, and Stiles goes red.
“Nice, dude,” he says. “Sorry I didn’t just jump on your weird monster dick the first time you tried to shove it in me and, by the way, you haven’t been patient, you’ve actually been a passive-aggressive jerkwad and I know you’ve been—cheating, or whatever, with that girl—”
“Blondie?” Stiles sneers. “Your new best friend.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Derek says, automatically, and Stiles jerks back like Derek hit him.
“Fine,” he says. “I was gonna let you fuck me, we were going to have a real fuckin’ romantic evening, but I guess since we’re over now, you can just go—”
“I made you a scarf,” Derek says, putting the box down on the table.
“Um,” Stiles says, tilting his head like there’s water stuck in his ear. Derek deeply regrets letting Bekka talk him into wrapping it.
“I didn’t—um, what was that about my dick?” Derek says.
Derek has his arm looped around Stiles’ back, his hand inside his hoodie’s pocket, as they walk down the street. Stiles is wearing his new scarf and Derek has a horribly clashing orange and blue striped knitted sweater underneath his leather coat to keep him warm.
“You promised details!” yells a girl from across the street.
“Do you know her?” asks Stiles.
“Just keep walking,” says Derek.
“Oh my God! Derek Hale! Don’t think this is embarrassing me! I once chased after my friend’s ironically named dog! Derek! HIS NAME WAS SUGARBOTTOMS. SUGARBOTTOMS, DEREK!”
“I really think you know her,” says Stiles looking back at the girl leaning out of the shop.
“YOU THINK JUST BECAUSE I CAN’T LEAVE THIS STORE THAT I WILL STOP BUT I WON’T! I KNEW I SHOULD HAVE TAKEN SOME OF THE CUPCAKES! I KNEW IT!”
“So you’re back,” sniffs Beka from the registry, eyeing both Derek and Stiles as they enter the shop.
“You know what they say, a couple that knits together, stays together,” says Stiles.
“No one says that,” says Derek, his face heating with a blush when Stiles tugs him closer by his sweater.
“I think I am getting cavities,” says Beka. “And scowly here is a hopeless case with knitting.”
She gestures to Derek with her needles.
“I’m up for the challenge,” grins Stiles locking eyes with his boyfriend.
“Oi! No hanky panky in the shop! The only one who should be getting any action is the employee of the month!” says Beka. “I’m not giving you a discount. Friends don’t run away from friends in the street.”
Derek tugs Stiles closer for a kiss.