prompt: "I think you missed your calling." And whatever ship you want from TW


"Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there?" Derek snapped, glaring at Stiles who had stopped in the doorway of the loft, staring with his jaw dropped open like he was trying to catch flies in it.

Stiles snapped his mouth shut and the surprise on his face turned into a smirk. "Sorry, this just isn't exactly what I was expecting to walk in on."

Derek huffed and set down the bowl of cookie dough that he had been spooning onto a baking sheet. He had a feeling there was flour on his face and he resisted the urge to rub it off knowing full well how much worse that would make it. He hadn't exactly been expecting company and although he'd heard Stiles coming up the stairs it wasn't like there was anything he could do to hide the fact that he was baking five dozen cookies, two dozen of which were already lined up neatly on the cooling racks.

"If you're going to be an asshole about it-"

"No, no!" Stiles interrupted, waving his hands around in a way that reminded Derek of a panicked monkey. "I'm not trying to be an asshole, I was just surprised. Please, continue on."

Derek glared at him some more, trying to threaten him with the power of his eyes, but Stiles was unfazed as he crossed the loft to the small kitchen area. Derek went back to dropping the dough onto the sheet in front of him, one eye on Stiles the entire time.

"Can I try one?" Stiles asked, pointing to the cookies that were already done. Derek was more than tempted to say no but Stiles was looking at him with those big stupid amber eyes of his and it made something in his chest clench.

He shrugged. "Fine."

Stiles grabbed for a cookie and Derek found himself suddenly incredibly nervous about his baking capabilities. His mother had taught him years ago but he'd only just picked it up again. It was embarrassing enough being caught baking cookies by Stiles, but if they were bad cookies he wasn't going to be able to show his face to the pack for a week. Maybe two. Probably a month.

The noise Stiles made though, when he finally bit into one, was enough to reassure him that he hadn't lost all of his talent. Seriously, who moaned like that over a cookie? And while Derek was pleased to know his baking skills were up to par, Stiles' reaction was causing another, ah, issue.

"It's just a cookie Stiles," he said, trying not to grit his teeth as he gripped the spoon in his hand tight enough to bend the handle.

"Dude, this is more than a cookie. This is a revelation. I think you missed your calling. All that time trying to be an alpha and you should have just been opening a bakery. Fuck. You should bake all the time."

Derek watched as Stiles took another bite of the cookie and it took a lot of will power to keep himself from popping his claws as Stiles moaned some more. This kid was going to drive him insane one of these days; he was making cookies dirty, how was that even possible?

"Just eat the stupid cookie."

Stiles locked eyes with him and he must have seen something on Derek's face because the smirk was back, just a small knowing tilt of his lips as he took a step towards the werewolf.

"You've got flour on your face."

Derek gave into the urge to grit his teeth. "I know."

"I could get it off for you, just let me…" Stiles reached over the bowl Derek was now clutching and brushed his fingers over his cheek, dislodging the flour that had gotten stuck there. Derek watched him the entire time, frozen in place when Stiles' skin had come into contact with his.

"Stiles," he said, voice low and heavy with something.

Stiles looked at him, blinked, and then grinned, stepping back a little. "So who are all the cookies for anyways?"

Derek dropped his head, adjusting the cookie dough on the pan before mumbling out an answer.

"What?" Stiles asked, leaning closer again and Derek really wished he would stop doing that. It made it so hard to think.

"The bingo ladies at the senior center," he repeated and he could actually feel the blood rise to his cheeks goddammit.

"Oh my god," Stiles said and Derek's eyes narrowed but before he could get another good glare in Stiles was talking again.

"Oh my god. You're baking for little old ladies. Ohmygod, fucking hell Derek, that's like, the cutest thing I've ever heard, this is not fair, you are not allowed to be cute, do you hear me? This is ridiculous, I object, it should be illegal to be smoking hot and all broody AND cute and-"

"Stiles," Derek said, interrupting the ramble that was sure to go on forever if he didn't put a stop to it. "Do you want to help?"

The smile that broke across the other boy's face was like being hit over the head with the sun.

"Yeah, yeah I'd like that."