Baking My Way Into Your Heart - Unplanned

It was Thursday. There was nothing special or significant about Thursday. Thursday was just another day of the week. This is what was in Derek's mind when he woke up that morning. He looked at the date then told himself that it was just Thursday. Only Thursday.

The day had been going smoothly. It was just like any other day. He got his coffee, ate some spiced pumpkin pie, went to class, did some studying just like he did every Thursday. And then he got a call from his sister.

She just wanted to check up on him, make sure he was all right considering the day. She had meant well, but Derek wished she understood his need to just numb himself from what the day was. His Uncle Peter knew that. He was likely to hear from him on Friday, maybe even Saturday, but definitely not on Thursday. But Laura always thought she knew Derek best. And in most cases, she was spot on. But when it came to this…

Derek sighed. He couldn't be mad at her. He couldn't be mad at anyone. And that just left him with a stuffy apartment where he was all alone with these emotions daring to overwhelm him. Unable to stand it any longer, Derek grabbed his keys and left.

It was late. Nearly midnight. He had to be grateful for it, cause any earlier and he probably would've crashed into someone. He had been driving around at reckless speeds, making sharp turns, wearing down his tires and his brakes. He rolled his windows all the way down, letting the cold air sting against his face. And once the need for speed had died down, he found himself here, parked with his windows back up, just outside Stiles' apartment.

He had no plans to go inside. Hell, the boy was probably asleep by now. He just needed the proximity. Just being there, in his car, made him feel better in a way he couldn't understand. Derek sighed, leaning his head against his steering wheel.

'Dammit Laura… why did you have to call? Everything was fine.' He shut his eyes. "Everything was fine…" he repeated to himself, over and over again. At some point, he wasn't even sure he was talking about his sister any more.

Just then, a knock came on his window. Derek snapped up, darting a look to the figure leaning in.

"Derek? I thought this was your car."

'Stiles.'

The boy smiled.

Derek blinked out of his reverie and unlocked the doors.

Stiles just pointed to the passenger seat in question and moved to the other side of the car when Derek nodded. Stiles climbed in, pulling the hood of his red sweatshirt down, and laying the bag he had been carrying on the floor between his feet. "Hey, whatcha doing here?"

"I was just… driving…"

Stiles cocked an eyebrow, but didn't push it.

Derek looked at his hands, clenched tightly against the steering wheel. "Why aren't you asleep?" He wondered, voice low.

"Hm? Me? I told you, I don't sleep much. I actually went out to buy some midnight snackage," he smiled, lifting up the bag and shaking it before laying it back down. "Don't tell Scott though. I nag him about eating healthy so he'd probably maim me if he knew about the Oreos I plan to demolish."

Derek heard the boy chuckle. He was trying to lighten the mood. Derek knew he should react. A smile – hell – even a scoff would do. But he just couldn't bring himself to do either.

The moment passed, leaving nothing but silence. Stiles looked to his friend, worry in his eyes. "Derek? You okay?" he asked, concerned. Gently, he placed his hand over Derek's arm, feeling the muscles tense underneath.

"I'm fine. Everything's fine," he said automatically.

Stiles was quiet for a moment. From the corner of his eye, Derek saw him nod lightly before he slipped his hand away. He turned, Derek assumed, to open the door. Instead, Stiles reached for the seatbelt, buckling himself in. "Okay. Let's go."

Derek finally turned to look at the boy. "What?"

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

"Stiles-"

"Wherever you want," he said with a nod, looking Derek squarely in the eye.

Derek looked back out through the windshield, letting his hands loosen their grip on the steering wheel. He just sat there, jaw clenching. Finally, he turned the key in the ignition and began to drive.

Stiles made commentary along the way, probably just to fill the void. He talked about various landmarks, the trees, even the stars in the sky. Derek listened, finding the boy's voice a source of comfort, although he was hardly in any state to respond. He drove them out of the city, through the hills, until finally they were staring at the ocean under a moonlit sky. Derek parked the car, but made no move to get out.

Stiles glanced over to his friend. Then, after a few moments of silence, he bent down and began to undo his laces.

Derek looked to him, curiously.

Stiles smiled softly and shrugged as he pulled off one shoe. "If we're gonna be at the beach, I don't wanna get sand in my shoes."

Derek watched as Stiles pulled his sock off, stuffing it in the abandoned shoe before moving to do the same with the other. He then rolled his jeans up to his knees. When he was done, Stiles looked at him expectantly. After a moment, Derek follow suit. When he had finished, Derek popped his door open and walked out onto the sand. He heard Stiles trailing behind.

"God," Stiles breathed. "The moon looks amazing."

Derek looked up and had to agree. It shone brightly over the water, its reflection rippling in the distance. Derek took a seat in the sand, drawing his legs up and wrapping his arms loosely around them. He watched as the waves crashed against the shore before receding back into the deep blue. Stiles came up next to Derek, folding his legs underneath him, settling his bag of snacks in his lap. He pulled open the package of Oreos, twisted the two sides apart and ate them separately. He held the package up to Derek, offering him a cookie. Derek took one, and without the fancy techniques, just bit right in.

"Ugh. Brute," Stiles murmured.

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

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

Derek just rolled his eyes and popped the rest of it in his mouth. He reached for another.

"You know," Stiles said, picking out another for himself. "I love Oreos. But there's one downfall to eating them." He pulled the two pieces apart and ate them separately again.

"And what is that?" Derek asked, finishing off the cookie.

"They make the biggest mess of your teeth." He proved his point by smiling at Derek. His teeth were sprinkled with bits of the dark cookie. It was disgusting. Derek had to laugh. "Ha!" Stiles said, pointing at Derek. "It got you too!" Stiles reached back into his bag and pulled out a quart of milk. He broke the seal, popped off the top and took a drink before handing it to Derek who drank some gratefully.

Stiles ran his tongue over his teeth. He looked to Derek. "Did I get it all?" he asked, baring them to the other boy.

Derek nodded before doing the same. He pointed to his own teeth.

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, you're good."

Derek was chuckling. Being with Stiles always made him feel better, even if all they were doing was eating Oreos. They sat there, watching the waves, listening to the water lap, killing off half the package of cookies and nearly all of the milk.

Finally, Derek spoke. "My sister called. Everything was perfectly fine and then she called me." He exhaled in frustration, dipping his head. His voice was low. "My parents died today… seven years ago…"

He felt a hand on his shoulder squeezing lightly. "Derek… I'm sorry…"

He looked back up. "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 nodded slowly in understanding.

"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…" He dropped his head again, shutting his eyes. "I can't… do this… not when I'm out here by myself…"

He felt the hand slide down his back to rest at his waist as Stiles scooted closer, pulling Derek into a half-hug. Stiles leaned his head against Derek's shoulder, hand rubbing up and down his back in a soothing motion before resting again at his waist. "You've got me." He said, simply.

Derek didn't say anything in return despite the torrent of emotion he felt, but he knew Stiles understood how much that meant to him. Slowly, he allowed himself to lean against the boy, borrowing a bit of his strength. They sat there for an unknown amount of time, the only source of light coming from the moon and the few streetlights lining the road behind them.

Stiles was the one to break the silence. "How did they die?" he asked softly.

Derek let one of his hands fall to the sand, picking invisible things from it. "There was a fire. They were trapped inside our house while Laura and I were at school." He stopped, his hand stilling at his side. "Everything was fine…" he said again, this time with pain in his voice. "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 was rubbing his back again, the motion successful in soothing the distraught boy.

"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..." Derek turned his head to the side, picking up a handful of sand and watching it pour back down. "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 shifted against him. "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?"

He felt Stiles nod against his arm. "Yeah. I get that."

Derek stilled his hand again and looked out into the ocean. He 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, more firmly. He gave 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, lifting his head and turning to look at the other boy. Derek sighed. "No, hear me out," he continued. "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."

Stiles bumped him. "Come on. What's something you guys did together that made you happy? That made you a family?"

Derek sighed, but tried to come up with something. He tried to remember a happy moment, before the fire. "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 let out a breathy chuckle, a memory coming to him. "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 into his sleeve. "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 guessed, smiling.

Derek nodded, a smile on his lips. "Yeah. Lemon." He bit his lip, reliving the memory in his mind.

"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-"

"Here comes the pitch!" He threw an imaginary ball in Derek's direction.

Derek just stood there, cocking an eyebrow. Stiles bobbed his head, waving his hand, waiting for Derek to react. He just rolled his eyes before swinging half-heartedly with one hand.

"Boo! A clear strike for the rookie. Maybe if the pitcher were throwing cabbages, the rookie might actually hit something."

Derek scowled at this. He exhaled slowly, before picking up a batter's stance, cracking his neck.

"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. Derek, despite feeling a bit silly about the whole thing, swung hard. "And there it goes! Out of the park! It's a grand slam! The crowd is going crazy! Aaaaahhhhhhh!" The younger boy threw his hands up in the air and began running around, tagging imaginary bases. "Sourwolf did it! He won the game! He won the pennant! He's going to Disneyland with his best buddy, Stilinator! Wooo hooooooo!"

Derek couldn't help but chuckle as Stiles began to run circles around him. He was smiling. "You're ridiculous."

Stiles leapt onto Derek's back, wrapping his arms around the boy's neck. Derek stumbled a bit under Stiles' sudden weight, but caught his balance in time to keep them from tumbling into the sand. "That's no way to talk to the Stilinator!" Stiles growled playfully, mussing up Derek's dark hair.

"Hey! Stiles! Stop!"

"Never! You must apologize to the Stilinator!"

Derek growled. "All right then." He grabbed the boy's thighs, holding them tight as he ran down to the water.

"Hey wait!" Stiles called, trying to let go, but Derek's grip wouldn't let him.

Derek kept going until the sand was wet under his feet. He waited until the cold waters of the Pacific washed up the shore again before shifting as if to drop Stiles in the water.

"No, no, no!"

Derek let go of his legs, but Stiles immediately tried to wrap them around the older boy's waist. The tips of his toes managed to dip into the water before he could. "Ack! Cold!" He held on tighter, burying his face in Derek's neck. "Okay, okay. I won't mess up your perfect hair ever again, okay?"

Derek smiled in victory, before hiking the boy up his back, and taking hold of his thighs once more. "Good."

Stiles loosened his hold as Derek just continued walking along the shore, content with the weight of the boy pressed against him. Derek could feel Stiles' heart pounding against his back. He kept walking until he could feel Stiles calming down, his breath catching up to him. Then Derek smirked and began to run.

"Ah!" Stiles grinned, tightening his hold again.

Derek ran back to where they had been sitting, the bag momentarily abandoned. He heard Stiles laughing in his ear, struggling to hang on the faster Derek went. Finally, they tumbled into the sand, Stiles landing on his back, Derek just next to him. They were both laughing, trying to catch their breath.

Then Derek turned on his side and wrapped his arms around Stiles' waist, pulling him in close. He rested his head on the boy's chest, listening to his heart pound against it. Stiles brought one hand up to rest against Derek's arm as the other carded through his hair, massaging Derek's scalp in the process. Derek would have protested as Stiles had just agreed not to mess with his hair, but found he couldn't. It felt good having Stiles' fingers rub again his head. He closed his eyes, letting himself relax against the soothing touch. When he finally caught his breath, he sighed.

"I really wanted to see you." He admitted softly. Stiles stilled for a moment, but then carried on. Derek continued. "But… it was late. I thought you were sleeping… so just being close was good enough for me." He opened his eyes again. "I thought… 'if Stiles were here, he'd know what to do.' And… there you were." He shut his eyes, hugging the boy closer. "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…"

Silence fell over them. Derek soaked in the warmth of the boy in his arms. He was happy, content, and just… thankful for Stiles. Thankful that he was here now. Thankful that he was in his life. He didn't want to remember a time before he knew this hyperactive chatterbox, this amazing baker, this wonderful breathtaking boy. This boy who had burrowed a place into his heart, implanting himself in his life, giving him joy and tenderness and love.

Derek was in love with Stiles, the boy who had baked his way into his heart.

Stiles turned slightly to cradle Derek in protective arms. They fell asleep like that, pressed against one another, holding on to each other like they never wanted to let go. The worries of the day didn't matter. All that mattered was now.

Notes: It's funny. While writing, I find I have a lot of notes that I want to add. But when it comes times to actually writing them here, I don't know what to say. And then when I re-read the chapters after they're already posted, I find out things I meant to say. It makes me want to write a commentary edition of this, perhaps with some of Stiles' POV. Yeah. And then I think 'Pfffffft. Who would read that?'