Baking My Way Into Your Heart – From Unplanned

POV: Stiles

"I am going to demolish you."

The clerk looked at Stiles like he was nuts – which, considering he was talking to a bag of cookies, he very well could be.

Stiles grinned sheepishly at the man behind the counter. "No, no. I was talking to the Oreos."

The clerk cocked an eyebrow, as if to say 'like that's any better?' but said nothing and just rang the boy up.

It was about half an hour to midnight when Stiles decided to slip out of his apartment to fulfill his craving for the cookie sandwich. And of course, once you have Oreos, you've got to have milk. So after paying the judgmental clerk, Stiles was eagerly making his way back home from the convenience store to 'demolish' the cookies, just as he had said.

'Yum yum Oreos taste so good. Can't eat just one of them. Who the hell could~?' Stiles mentally freestyled, swinging his bag merrily as he made his way home. 'Cookie on top and cookie underneath. Eat the yummy cookie, get cookie on your teeth~'

Stiles was just about to break into another verse when he spotted a car across the street. 'Hey! That looks like Derek's car! All sexy and sleek and shiny and… hey, is there someone inside?' From where he was standing, Stiles could swear there was someone moving around in there. 'You know, this is how most of those serial killer movies start. Some poor innocent sap just walking home while their stalker watches them from their car… Okay, no. Too spooky!' Stiles thought with a shiver down his spine. 'All right, Stiles. Just go upstairs, eat your Oreos and hide them from Scott and… hey, what if it is Derek?'

Well this just about changed everything. At the thought of his surly friend, Stiles smiled and was ready to skip across the street to visit him. 'Buuuuuut…' Stiles restrained himself, wanting to be cautious. 'On the off chance that it is a serial killer, maybe I should take a little precaution. My daddy didn't raise no fool!' He mentally snickered before pulling out his phone and sliding it into the pocket of his hoodie, wrapping his hand around it in case he needed to make an emergency call. 'In all likelihood, it's just some guy who pulled over cause he's lost or something,' Stiles rationalized while making his way across the street. 'He's lucky that I'm awake so I can help him.'

The closer Stiles got, the more he could see of the guy. 'Is… is that a leather jacket? …That hair… could it actually be Derek?' The thought made Stiles' heart pound.

The guy was currently slumped over his steering wheel so Stiles knocked on the window to get his attention. Despite all his speculation, he gasped in surprise. It really was Derek.

"Derek? I thought this was your car," Stiles smiled. He saw Derek push a button – the door lock if he remembered clearly that one time he was touching everything in Derek's car. 'Does he want me to come in?' He pointed to the other side of the car and mentally cheered when Derek nodded.

Stiles opened the door and set his milk and cookies on the floor before taking a seat. "Hey, whatcha doing here?"

"I was just… driving…"

Stiles cocked an eyebrow. Now, while Derek was never the perkiest guy in the bunch, there was something off about him. He looked a little far away. It made Stiles a bit worried about his friend. 'I hope everything's okay…'

"Why aren't you asleep?"

He almost missed the question, his voice was so low. "Hm? Me? I told you, I don't sleep much. I actually went out to buy some midnight snackage," he smiled. He picked up his bag to show him. "Don't tell Scott though. I nag him about eating healthy so he'd probably maim me if he know about the Oreos I plan to demolish," he chuckled.

Derek didn't respond. It made Stiles wonder if he even heard him. It concerned him. Derek wasn't a very talkative person, but it wasn't like he was a brick wall. Derek had little quirks to let Stiles know he was listening. Maybe he was unaware of them himself, but they were there. Often, Derek talked with his eyebrows, furrowing them when Stiles made a reference to something he didn't understand or cocking one in skepticism. Sometimes his eyes would narrow when he heard something he didn't like, or rolled them when he heard something he didn't like but was still slightly amused by. But getting nothing, not even the slightest hint of a nod was just eerie. It made Stiles worry.

"Derek? You okay?" he asked, touching his arm gently. He could feel the muscles in his forearm tense, as Derek's hands clenched the steering wheel.

"I'm fine. Everything's fine."

The answer was forced. Robotic. Stiles instantly knew that everything was not fine. And if anything was upsetting Derek, Stiles made it his mission to fix it. So, with a nod, Stiles reached over and buckled his seatbelt. "Okay. Let's go."

Derek finally looked at him. "What?" he asked, slightly dazed and confused.

"Let's go," Stiles repeated. "Wherever you want. It'll be our little midnight adventure," he smiled.

"Stiles-"

'No, no,' Stiles mentally berated. 'Don't you dare try to brush me off.' "Wherever you want," he said again, looking Derek in the eye, wanting him to know that whatever it was he was dealing with right now, Stiles was not going to let him deal with it alone.

For a few seconds Derek was silent again, just staring out the windshield. Again, it made Stiles wonder if he had been heard. But through the dim streetlights, he could see the way Derek's jaw was clenching, letting him know that the older boy was mulling things through. Then, finally, he turned the key in the ignition and began to drive.

Stiles spent the entire car ride talking nonsense. Usually when he went into these streams of thoughts, Derek would add a little input here and there. But tonight was different. Again, Derek wasn't responding in his usual manner, but since he hadn't told Stiles to shut up, the younger boy thought it was okay if he just kept going. Stiles watched curiously out the window as Derek drove them out of the town and through the hills. He didn't immediately recognize where they were going.

'Heh… what if Derek is a serial killer…?' Stiles thought morbidly, then mentally berated himself. Whatever was going on with Derek, he hardly thought it was time to joke about it.

They had been driving a good amount of time before the car finally came to a stop. Stiles leaned forward, taking in their location, a little surprised to find they were at the beach. Not surprisingly, it was void of beachgoers, the only movement were the waves crashing against the shore. Stiles waited for Derek to make the first move, but the way he was just sitting there, staring out at the waves, it didn't seem like that was going to happen any time soon.

'Derek… I wish you would open up. Tell me what's bothering you. I'll help you. I'll fix it…' The last thing Stiles wanted, though, was to push his older friend into anything he didn't want to do. He wasn't exactly sure that Derek even wanted to step out of the car. 'Maybe he just wanted to watch the waves?' Stiles wondered. But, taking a chance and hoping it was what Derek had in mind, Stiles started to untie his shoes.

When Derek looked at him curiously, Stiles just smiled. "If we're gonna be at the beach, I don't wanna get sand in my shoes."

Stiles took off his shoes and socks before rolling up his jeans so that he wouldn't get sand on those either. Then, when he was done, he looked to Derek, urging him to do the same.

Again, it didn't look like Derek was going to make a move. 'That's okay,' Stiles thought. 'I will sit with you until you're ready.' He didn't have to wait very long. Derek took off his shoes as well, stuffing his socks in them and rolling up his jeans just as Stiles had. 'There we go…' Stiles inwardly smiled.

Derek finally stepped out of the car and walked out onto the sand. Stiles followed behind after grabbing his milk and Oreos. Looking at Derek stroll across the beach in the soft glow of the moon and listening to the waves crashing against the shore was certainly a breath-taking scene to Stiles. 'Even at night, he looks so cool… how are you even real?' he had to wonder.

Stiles looked up at the moon, needing to distract himself from the beauty in front of him. "God," he breathed. "The moon looks amazing."

Derek didn't respond, but Stiles knew he had heard him when his gaze angled up at the glowing orb. Looking at the moon hadn't helped. Seeing Derek's face in the moonlight only made him look even more surreal.

The older boy took a seat in the sand. Stiles briefly wondered if he should give Derek some space or if he wouldn't mind the company. Hoping he was making the right choice, Stiles took a seat next to Derek. When he wasn't rebuked in any way, Stiles breathed a sigh of relief in hopefully making the right choice.

Finally cracking the bag of Oreos open, Stiles twisted the two sides apart, just as his mother had taught him, before eating the pieces individually. He was only half-aware of Derek's eyes on him as he finished it off before holding up the container to offer the older boy a cookie. 'I wonder if he's a twist and lick type of person. Or maybe he likes to dunk his in milk first. Or maybe he's like me and eats each piece separately.'

Derek proved him wrong and just bit right in.

'Of all the ways, he just bites right in!' Stiles gaped. "Ugh. Brute," he murmured.

Derek frowned. "What? Cause there's a wrong way to eat an Oreo?"

Stiles scoffed. "Technically no, but if there were, it'd be that."

Derek didn't reply, and instead just took another cookie.

Stiles picked up another one for himself. He thought back to his little freestyle he made up on the way home from the convenience store. "You know, I love Oreos. But there's one downfall to eating them."

"And what is that?"

"They make the biggest mess of your teeth." Stiles flashed Derek a grin to prove his point. He could actually feel the mess the cookies had left. His moment of silliness proved worth it when Derek finally laughed. The sound of it warmed Stiles' heart. "Ha!" Stiles laughed once he spotted the mess of Derek's own teeth. "It got you too!" Hoping it would help wash away the crumbly mess, he pulled out his milk and drank some before passing it over to share with his friend. Stiles did his best to clean his teeth, showing them to Derek. "Did I get it all?"

Derek nodded before showing his own teeth to Stiles.

The boy nodded. "Yeah, you're good."

Derek was chuckling again, assuring Stiles that he was doing something right. They sat quietly on the beach, eating Oreos and drinking milk, blanketed in the moonlight while listening to the ebb and flow of the tide. It was peaceful. It made Stiles hope that whatever it was that was bothering his friend was slowly slipping away.

"My sister called. Everything was perfectly fine and then she called me."

Stiles was almost startled by the sound of Derek's voice. He had been so quiet up until now. He turned to look at him, mentally urging him to continue.

He heard him exhale. "My parents died today… seven years ago…"

'Oh…' Stiles thought somberly, finally understanding his friend's mood. He placed a hand on Derek's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "Derek… I'm sorry…"

The older boy looked out over the water. "Everything was fine," he repeated. "I just… I didn't want to forget what today was, but I just didn't… I didn't want to be reminded of it."

Stiles understood the feeling. With his own mother's death, he never wanted forget her, but a yearly reminder of the fact that she was gone was tortuous. And considering how normal Derek had been acting in the day, it seemed that this call from his sister served Derek with that very reminder.

"But it's not like I can ignore Laura," Derek continued, voice bitter. "She's done practically everything for me ever since it happened. She and Peter are all I have left. And I was fine. And then she called. And it's okay for her to remember cause she's got her fiancé, and dammit, even Peter knows not to call me cause I can't… I can't… do this… not when I'm out here by myself…"

Stiles' heart broke for his friend. He understood the importance of a support system. Since the day of his mom's passing, Stiles had Scott. Scott understood when Stiles needed a friend and when he needed to be left alone. He knew when to distract him or lend an ear when Stiles needed it most. Scott was his rock. If Stiles didn't have Scott, well… he very well might be feeling as helpless and alone as Derek felt right now.

But he wasn't alone. Not anymore. Stiles wanted Derek to know that. He scooted closer towards his friend, resting his head against his shoulder and rubbing his back in a – hopefully – soothing motion before slipping his hand around his waist in a half-hug. "You've got me," he tried. Hopefully it was enough. Hopefully he was enough. Derek didn't respond, but Stiles could feel the tension lessen in his friend.

They sat in silence for some time, listening to the waves lapping against the shore. 'There's still so much I don't know about him…' Stiles thought. And moreover, he found himself wanting to know, but not out of sheer curiosity or his desire to complete the puzzle that was Derek Hale. He wanted to know because Derek was his friend. Stiles liked Derek, genuinely cared for him. He wasn't just another person who was in his life out of circumstance. Sure, that's how it had started. Stiles was just Derek's barista. But Derek had become more than just a customer. And the more Stiles spent time with him, the more he wanted Derek to be more than just an acquaintance. He wanted to be a friend to him, to keep him in his life even beyond their time together at school. He wanted Derek to be a part of his life and found himself hoping that Derek wanted the same.

But to get there, it would take time. And trust. And maybe… maybe Derek trusted Stiles enough to open up a little more.

"How did they die?" he asked, curious, but also wanting to give Derek an outlet. He expected the question to be brushed off, especially if Derek didn't feel comfortable enough to talk about it. He wasn't even sure if Derek heard, especially when the boy started to play with the sand, but finally, he spoke.

"There was a fire. They were trapped inside our house while Laura and I were at school."

'Oh wow…' Stiles' breath stilled, shocked. 'Wait… that was his family?' He had found out that Derek was from Beacon Hills when he had Danny look him up, but he had no idea that it was his family in that fire. 'I remember my dad talking about it when it happened… said it was a real tragedy… oh Derek…'

"Everything was fine…" Derek continued, pain evident in his voice, drawing Stiles' attention back to him. "And then they pulled me and Laura out of class and the next thing I knew, the principal was telling me that my parents were dead. I was supposed to be worrying about school and prom and what type of junk to eat for lunch, not where was I gonna go or what was I gonna do without my home or my parents. The only way I managed to get through it was because of Laura and my uncle. Without them… I don't… I wouldn't have even…"

Stiles began to rub a comforting hand across his back again. 'Derek…' He just wanted to hold him and assure him that everything would be okay.

"Luckily, my uncle took us in to live with him in New York. I got my GED and took a few years off from school, not really knowing what to do from there. I just felt… lost… I spent my time just angry at the world. Angry at my parents for dying. Angry at myself for acting out the way I was. But Laura," he scoffed. "She literally beat some sense into me. Told me to get myself together. Told me to focus and move on. She brought me back to California with her so I could stop running from what happened. She even brought me back to the house – at least what's left of it. God… I was a mess that day… all the ash, the blackened porch… They had ruled the fire as accidental but I had always wondered if maybe they missed something. Just the smallest of things…"

Stiles turned his head, resting his chin on Derek's arm. "Is that why you got into criminology?"

Derek nodded slowly. "I guess so. I mean, I had always been interested in it… but I guess if I ever found myself in a similar situation as the detective on the case, I'd feel some sort of closure knowing I did my best to bring closure to someone else, you know?"

Stiles nodded. "Yeah. I get that."

The older boy sighed. "Maybe there's something wrong with me. Laura deals with it. She remembers what happened and she's stronger for it. Me… I just try to avoid it."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with that," Stiles frowned. "It hurts. People cope with the pain in different ways."

"I don't want to avoid it… I just… I don't think I can handle it. I can't handle it. Look at me."

"Hey," Stiles said again, firmly, giving Derek a little shake. "We handle it the best we can."

"But I feel like I'm running away from it. Even now after all these years."

"Okay, then just stop running," Stiles said simply. Anticipating the oncoming pessimism, he cut him off. "No, hear me out. You remember what we did for my mom's death?"

"We played video games and made a mess of your kitchen."

"We baked. And baking is something my mom did. Baking helps me remember her and the happiness it brought her whenever someone complimented her food. Baking is my way of remembering the good things. So… just find the good things to remember. What do you think of when you remember your parents?"

Derek exhaled heavily. "Fire. Death. Pain."

'No, no, no,' Stiles mentally groaned before bumping him on the side. "Come on. What's something you guys did together that made you happy? That made you a family?"

Derek thought about it. Then, "Baseball."

"Baseball? Yeah, okay. Baseball. We can work with that. What about baseball?"

"It was something my dad taught me. We would watch the games, rooting for our favorite teams. And when I played back when I was a kid, all of them were there to cheer me on." Derek chuckled, the sound pleasant to Stiles' ears. "I remember the first time I scored a home run. My mom stood up from the stands, screaming at the ball to get over the fence while my dad was waving his arm like he could push it along. Even Laura put down her phone and watched. And once it landed just outside the field, they were all standing, screaming their heads off." Derek smiled at the memory, making Stiles smile in return. "After that, my dad took us to get some pizza. And for dessert, we went to this place that made these soufflés that were the smoothest, creamiest things you can imagine. My parents shared a chocolate one while I got-"

"Lemon?" Stiles took an educated guessed.

"Yeah. Lemon."

"Well all right then," Stiles said. He stood up, brushing his backside of the sand sticking to his jeans. He bent down, grabbing Derek's arms, pulling him up. Once Derek was on two feet, Stiles jogged a few paces away before turning back to the older boy. He stood sideways, bringing his hands up in a cupping motion. "Next up to the plate is Derek 'Sourwolf' Hale! He's batting at .384 this year, not bad for the rookie."

Derek frowned, giving the boy an exasperated look. "Stiles, what are you doing?"

Stiles held his hands out as if it were obvious. "We're playing baseball. Come on. You're up." He resumed his pitcher's stance.

"Stiles-"

He didn't want to hear it. "Here comes the pitch!" He threw an imaginary ball in Derek's direction.

Derek just stood there, cocking an eyebrow. 'Come on, Derek,' Stiles mentally urged. 'This'll be good for you. Just try.' He waved his hand, encouraging Derek to react. After a moment, he finally got the older boy to react. It was half-hearted, but it was certainly better than nothing.

"Boo!" Stiles heckled, hoping it would be enough to shake Derek up a bit. "A clear strike for the rookie. Maybe if the pitcher were throwing cabbages, the rookie might actually hit something." He snickered at Derek's expense, but in seeing the boy getting serious – or at least getting serious about being playful – Stiles bit back a grin of elation. "Ahhh. What's this? Has the rookie finally decided to step his game up? Did he bring his big boy britches? Is he getting ready to get down in the big league? Will he-"

"Stiles."

"All right, all right. Here comes the pitch!" Stiles threw the imaginary ball, half-prepared to witness another lazy attempt, but was heartened to see Derek make an effort. Stiles cheered. "And there it goes! Out of the park! It's a grand slam! The crowd is going crazy! Aaaaahhhhhhh!" Unafraid of looking silly, Stiles threw his hands up in the air and started running around, stomping on invisible bases in the sand. "Sourwolf did it! He won the game! He won the pennant! He's going to Disneyland with his best buddy, Stilinator! Wooo hooooooo!" He circled Derek, making a fool of himself, but found he didn't care when a smile emerged on the older boy's lips.

"You're ridiculous."

Stiles gasped at the insult and deemed to make him pay for that. He jumped on Derek's back and momentarily regretted his action when it felt like Derek was about to tumble, but he recovered quickly, able to catch his balance under Stiles' sudden weight.

"That's no way to talk to the Stilinator!" Stiles growled out. He knew just how to make him pay. He went for the hair. Stiles didn't hold back as mussed up Derek's black locks, much to the latter's chagrin.

"Hey! Stiles! Stop!"

"Never! You must apologize to the Stilinator!" he declared.

He felt Derek growl underneath him. "All right then."

Before he could realize what he was doing, Derek took a firm hold on Stiles' thighs and jogged out over to the water. This didn't bode well for the barista. "Hey wait!" Stiles whined, trying futilely to detach himself, but Derek just wouldn't let go.

"No, no, no!" Stiles tried again as Derek stepped into the water and only then releasing the younger boy's legs. The sudden give, almost left Stiles tumbling into the water, but he quickly tightened his hold around Derek's neck, scrambling to wrap his legs around him too, to avoid falling in. "Ack! Cold!" He yelped, when his foot managed to dip in. The Pacific was relentless. He held on tighter, burying his face in Derek's neck. "Okay, okay. I won't mess up your perfect hair ever again, okay?"

This seemed enough for the older boy as his arms returned to support Stiles' weight. "Good." He didn't need to see Derek's face to know there was a smug smile on his lips. Just the thought of it, of knowing that his silly antics were enough to put it there, made Stiles smile all his own.

Derek continued to walk along the shore as Stiles relaxed his hold. He was quite enjoying his piggyback ride, the steady pace back towards the forgotten bag of Oreos underneath the pale moonlight. But he grinned again, his firm hold returning when Derek began to run. Stiles laughed, struggling to hang on the faster Derek went. He felt Derek grip his legs before spinning them in circles until he finally lost his balance, sending them tumbling into the sand. Stiles still laughed, enjoying the older boy's playfulness as he tried to catch his breath. He slumped back into the sand, splaying out as his gazed up at the stars.

Once their laughter died down, Derek turned on his side and surprised Stiles by wrapping his arms around his waist, pulling him in close. He rest his head on Stiles' chest, endearingly. Stiles glanced down, only able to see the mop of Derek's hair. He smiled softly before running his fingers once more through the soft locks. He idly massaged the scalp, hoping to soothe any remaining tension left his in friend.

They stayed like that for a while. Stiles was too content and feeling the brink of tiredness beginning to take over. Plus, the warmth of Derek pressed against him was more comfortable than any blanket he ever had before. As he caught his breath, he heard Derek's fall into a steady rhythm, and Stiles had to wonder if maybe Derek had fallen asleep himself. He wouldn't be surprised after the day he had. But he was proven wrong when he heard a small sigh emit from his friend.

"I really wanted to see you."

The words had startled Stiles. He froze in surprise as he glanced down once more, but continued massaging, hoping Derek would continue. He did.

"But… it was late. I thought you were sleeping… so just being close was good enough for me." Derek paused. "I thought… 'if Stiles were here, he'd know what to do.' And… there you were." He felt Derek hold him tighter, nuzzling slightly against his chest. "And you knew exactly what to do to make me feel better… I'm… I'm grateful for you… I'm really glad I got to see you…"

"Derek…" For the first time in a long time, Stiles was at a loss for words.

Derek was this guy that was more often than not, serious and strong. It took him by surprise sometimes that he had somehow managed to befriend the solemn man. But there had never been any doubt in Stiles' mind that maybe he placed more on their relationship than Derek did. He understood that it was his insistence that eventually got Derek to put his books away those mornings in the coffee shop, to ultimately participate in the friendship Stiles had wanted to build. He knew that he was the one pushing it, the one imposing on Derek's life. And he was only reminded of this fact when he had overheard him talking to his classmate, saying that they weren't friends, that he was just Derek's barista. And that had hurt. Stiles had really thought that they were more than that. He had thought that it wasn't just him - that Derek wanted to be friends too. The disappointment was a bitter pill to swallow.

And even when they made up after that, even after Derek did admit that they were friends, there was still no doubt in Stiles' mind that he was more invested than Derek was. That he looked forward to seeing and spending time with Derek more than Derek looked forward to seeing him. And Stiles was okay with that. He did his best to make it so that he didn't come off as clingy. He didn't want to smother Derek by always being around.

So to hear that… to hear that Derek wanted to see him, to spend time with him, it warmed Stiles' heart like no other. And the fact that it was this night – a night where Derek was distraught and vulnerable – that he wanted to be in Stiles' company spoke volumes. He trusted Stiles. In this moment, he relied on Stiles as much as Stiles on Scott. Just as Stiles believed Scott knew how to handle him - to know when to be there or when to give him space, or to distract him or lend him a comforting shoulder - Derek believed in Stiles. And it was proof to Stiles that maybe Derek was just as invested in his friendship with Stiles as Stiles was with Derek.

The fact was enough to warm Stiles' heart, despite the chill in the air. It was enough to let him know he was doing something right.

And hoping once more that it would be okay, Stiles shifted in the sand, turning onto his side to wrap his arms around Derek's shoulders. He knew that the older boy was more than capable of protecting himself, handling Stiles' would-be attacker with ease. But Stiles wanted nothing more than to be able to protect Derek in this moment. To keep the bad feelings at bay. He wanted to tackle all feelings of loneliness, erase all traces of sadness, and be everything Derek needed to get through the night. He wanted to protect Derek from the pain of his memories, kick their asses until there was nothing left but the good ones. And if in the end, all it did was to solidify their friendship even the slightest, well… then that was more than enough to make it worth it.

Wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, Stiles fell asleep, holding the man very dear to his heart, determined even through his slumber to make sure Derek knew that he was safe. That he could trust Stiles. That he'd never have to feel lonely again.

Notes: Stiles is a good friend. I think he'd be an awesome type of friend to have around. Loyal to a fault. And that's actually the very type of friend Derek needs. Gah, feels...