Chapter 33: Sugar

"Twinkies…" Derek stared incredulously as Daria presented her findings from the pantry.

"I mean, there's other stuff here too, but this is the good stuff!"

He eyed the empath in disbelief. "You do eat healthy food sometimes, right?"

"Sure, sometimes." Daria tapped her foot against a barstool with a little too much enthusiasm.

Derek felt her chemosignals elicit a hint of uncertainty. "What is it?"

She continued to avoid eye contact, and a slight flush of pink crept up her cheekbones.

"Daria."

The empath exhaled in defeat. "I can't cook very well, okay?"

He let out an unexpected laugh. "That's what you're worried about?"

She grumbled, and his laughter grew.

"Shut up!"

She playfully swatted at him, and he took her hand, pulling her closer. They both still smelled deeply of the forest, and he inhaled deeply.

"Dad and Stiles always cooked at home. Even Deucalion took care of meals when I was training with him." She groaned, squeezing the sugary snack between her fingers, until he pried it from her grasp.

"Tell you what." He set the twinkie on a granite countertop and grabbed a jar of lentils. "Instead of cooking for me, how about you cook with me."

"You're going to teach me how to cook…" Daria eyed him with dismay.

Derek grinned, grabbing an apron, and tying it snugly around her waist. He felt her heartbeat stutter as his arms circled around her, and his smirk widened.

"If it doesn't work out, we can have whatever you want for dessert."

"Yeah, see, I recognize that you saying that as you hold me while shirtless is meant to have some sort of double meaning, but you're underestimating the power of processed sugar, and I'm holding you to that!" She glanced wistfully at the twinkie, earning another chuckle from the Beta. "Nnngh, fine, let's get this over with!" she said, a slight smile creeping up the sides of her lips.

Daria stared at the congealed, burnt, over salted concoction in her bowl several minutes later.

"I'm never cooking again."

Derek sat across from her with his own bowl, ignoring the expression of defeat gracing her face. "You're going to cook again, and it's going to get better."

She growled, unamused. Then she watched as he took a heaping spoonful of lentils and bravely swallowed its contents. "Bleh!" she crowed in protest. "Don't eat it!"

"I'm going to be honest with you, Daria. This is one of the worst things I've ever eaten." He nodded with amusement. "But not the very worst."

Daria took a bite and blanched. "Not the very worst… Liar." But she bravely took a few more bites.

After her fourteenth bite - and yes, she counted every bite - she spied a twinkie sliding toward her.

"You've punished yourself enough."

She peered up at Derek's empty bowl and balked, "You ate the whole thing?"

"It's not so bad once you get used to the salt."

He tried to take her bowl, but she held onto the rim tightly. "If you can finish your bowl… I can finish mine!" Then painstakingly Daria shoveled the remaining contents of the bowl into her mouth.

Derek coughed into his fist to keep from laughing and failed miserably, but the empath finally prevailed.

"There. Done!"

"Satisfied?" He eyed her skeptically.

"Oh, yeah!" She ripped open the twinkie wrapper and moaned as its fluffy, sugary contents drowned out the aftertaste of salt and burnt legumes. "My life is complete."

Derek rose from the table and washed the bowls as she savored the sweet flavors for a few more moments. Then Daria joined him at the sink.

"Thank you for that," she hummed happily beside him, taking the sponge to scrub out the remaining contents stuck fast to the pan.

"You're thanking me…" she gazed at her quizzically.

"I guess I am," she considered the past hour thoughtfully. "No one has ever taken the time to try and teach me to cook. Not since before my mother died."

Her eyes flashed blue, and she used a little werewolf strength to scrape off the burnt lentils.

"You're welcome," he murmured quietly beside her.

Daria set the pan to the side of the sink to dry before turning to face the wolf. He still had no shirt on, and she could feel the heat from his chest.

"I don't know how gender stereotypes apply to werewolf relationships. I just… I want things to work this time. I want to help, and be useful, and… be someone you want to keep around for the long haul."

She felt his heartbeat increase as he took in her words and met her gaze, "I don't care if you can't cook. You help more than you know. Even when we weren't together, you kept me going."

"I'm not who I used to be, Derek. I'm stronger, less breakable, and more resilient than I used to be. But I hate that part of me still feels like I need to measure up to you in some way - that you make me feel weak."

He inched closer until his skin brushed against her top. "You've proven more than once that you can hold your own, Daria. And if it makes you feel any better," he hesitated for a moment, "you make me feel just as weak."

Her breath shuddered, the wanting she felt for him compounded by a wave of desire from the wolf, so powerful that her knees almost buckled.

"W-we smell like trees and sweat," she whispered distantly.

"Mm-hm." He leaned down, brushing his lips against her temple.

"We should probably get cleaned up."

"Mm-hm." He paused, and she felt the heat from his breath travel down to the base of her neck.

Her heart thrummed as she dared herself to speak. "We should get cleaned up together."

Derek lifted her onto the counter in one swift motion and kissed her soundly. She wrapped her legs around his torso, dragging her fingertips down his back like little flames dancing down his shoulder blades.

After several seconds, the wolf pulled back from the kiss and exhaled deeply. "Where's the shower?"

She let out a breathy laugh. "Third door on the right."

In seconds they were in the bathroom and Derek had the hot water running.

"Not one to waste time, are you," she giggled.

He paused for a moment, and his eyes fell earnestly. "I know what it's like to lose you, Daria." His forehead rested atop her own. "I don't want to lose another moment. Ever again."

Daria slipped off her apron and stepped closer resting her hands on his chest. "And you won't." Gently he tugged her shirt upward, and she unhooked her bra. "Ever again."

Steam filled the bathroom as the remainder of their clothes hit the floor, and any uncertainty Daria had felt a few moments before dissipated into the air.

Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated! And thank you for being so patient in between updates. Health problems abound, but I'm glad I could at least post a little fluff in the meantime. -V