Prompt from .com:)
Derek's eyes stung and he hung his head dejectedly, sighing.
The phone rang for the second time in as many minutes. He ignored the ringing and sated at the paper work his boss demanded he complete by the end of the day, warning him that they needed to make cut backs and any slip ups could cost someone their job.
Derek's office was almost overflowing with incomplete work and endless tasks that needed doing, and the stress was slowly eating away at him, bit by bit.
He picked up the now-silent phone to call in one of the new girl that rushed in without even knocking was small, blonde and pretty. She blurted out her name and rushed forward to sit in the chair he'd indicated to.
"Can I help you Mr. Hule?" She nervously sat on her hands.
"Hale," Derek said slowly, "It's Mr. Hale,"
The intern looked horrified, before she realized he wasn't mad at her. "Oh, of course. So sorry. Sir."
"This paper work needs filling in. It's pretty much self explanatory and it shouldn't take to long. Put it back on my desk when you're finished." She bundled the papers into her arms and scattered from the office.
The phone rang once more, and reluctantly he answered it.
"Hale, hi. Basically, one of the interns screwed up just a little and the stuff you submitted yesterday needs to be re-done ASAP," The phone line clicked before he could protest, and he slammed it down into the receiver, wiping a hand down his face. He looked at the single photo he kept on his desk- him and Stiles at the beach last summer. He let his finger trail down the picture of Stiles and allowed himself a small smile.
The intern stuck her head round the door, again- not bothering to knock.
"Uhm, Mr. Hale? I've done it all totally wrong," Her smile was too eager and inappropriate considering she'd screwed up. Derek stifled a groan.
It was just one of those days.
Traffic was hell, he'd been so low on gas it was a miracle he's made it to the gas station in time, even if it took him nearly a half hour out of his way, and the coffee place was shut. By the time he fell through the door, he had cramp in his leg and he'd developed a pounding headache.
The smell hit him, sweet and tart- loaded with memories of warm summer evenings and bitter winters. Of home.
"Mom?" He whispered before reality set in and he smiled. What was Stiles up to?
Derek hovered in the doorway, watching Stiles' back as he took one pie out of the oven and turned to continue carefully spooning cherry filling into the second pie case. Derek removed his tie and jacket and left his shoes by the front door.
Stiles' forehead creased in concentration, leaning over Derek's mother's cookbook, covered in smudges and stains.
Derek crept up behind him and wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist. The smaller man jumped before settling into the embrace.
"How was your day?" He questioned, licking filling off his fingers.
Derek paused. "Good," he lied.
Stiles felt him smile into his neck.
Derek sighed for the last time that day, contented. Somehow Stiles had managed to make his day a thousand times better, even if he'd had no idea it had been crappy.