Baking My Way Into Your Heart - Complications

Derek was sitting at his desk in his apartment, history book open, highlighter in his hand. He was staring down at the words on the page, but nothing seemed to stick. The only thing that seemed to register in his brain was this:

'What did I just do?'

Derek tossed his highlighter aside and slammed his book shut before burying his hands in his hair.

Stiles had woken him up that morning on the beach. It was already five and Stiles needed to get back to his apartment to get ready for work. Derek had half a mind to just ignore his talking pillow, opting to hit the snooze button to get back to sleep, but it wouldn't stop buzzing. Once he opened his eyes and realized his surroundings, he apologized for hitting the boy on the nose and quickly got him back home. And it was once Derek was back at his own apartment that he really came to terms with everything that had happened that night.

It was the first time in a long time that he had talked about his parents' death. And it was the first time ever he had done so with someone other than a family member or a professional. Derek was more than grateful that Stiles had been there for him and had cheered him up with baseball and Oreos of all things, but it was that last moment before falling asleep that really made him nervous for two reasons.

Firstly, he was afraid of what Stiles thought of him after practically clinging to him.

'Ugh…Good move with that one.' Derek mentally berated himself. 'But…' He paused, loosening his grip on his hair. 'It's not like he pushed me away. He actually held me. That's gotta mean something, right?' He frowned, sighing heavily. 'It means he's a supportive friend. Obviously I was upset, so he was comforting me. That's all.' Derek found himself a little disappointed at the thought. 'He was being a good friend and I practically throw myself on him. God, how pathetic are you?' The whole thing left Derek feeling more than just a little embarrassed.

And secondly, there was one more fact that was staring him right in the face; one that he couldn't exactly accept.

'I'm not in love with Stiles… I can't be in love with Stiles. Stiles is… Stiles is – He's Stiles! Sono. Just no.'

He had tried convincing himself that everything between them was fine. That the night hadn't made a difference in their friendship. He tried going into the coffee shop that morning like normal, but when he caught a glimpse of the boy busily filling the display case with freshly baked cranberry muffins, he felt his heart begin to pound, his throat begin to dry and his palms begin to sweat all from just looking at him. Needless to say, Derek freaked out and fled the scene.

'That's just anxiety. I'm nervous about what he thinks about me so I panicked. That's all,' he rationalized. He sat up, pulling his hands out of his hair to tap his fingers lightly against his desk. 'I mean, obviously he means something to me. He's my friend. But it can't be love. That's just insane.' Hell, the mere thought of the word made Derek uncomfortable.

He groaned. "Forget it! Just study. Just open your book and study." He flipped his book open again, snatching up his highlighter and popping off the cap. He looked down at the words, urging himself to read and focus on the material.

For the next twenty minutes, he sat there, reading the same sentence over and over again, trying to make sense of it. But the only thing registering in his brain was this:

'What the hell did I just do?'

Derek threw his highlighter across the room before burying his face in his arms.

"Damn it."

/\/\/\

When it came to his emotions, Derek didn't handle them very well. In fact, he spent a lot of time running away from them. And there was no greater example of that than his life after his parents' death.

His life before had been chaotic and self-destructive. After getting his GED, he had no idea what to do with himself. He had no direction, wandering through life aimlessly. His parents were the ones who always knew what to do, but they were gone. All that remained was the pain of loss. Hating the feeling, he shut himself off from the rest of his family, thinking that if he didn't care about them then it wouldn't matter if they were lost too. He found absolution at the bottom of a shot glass and in the beds of strangers. In this way, if he was out of his head and caught up in the moment, he didn't have any room left to feel sorry for himself. If his brain was drowning in an alcoholic daze, he didn't have to remember how insecure and depressed he really was.

But finally, Laura had tracked him down. And instead of giving him a heartfelt talk and an intervention, she punched him square across the jaw. And she did it again. And she did it over and over again until her knuckles were raw and tears were streaming from both their eyes. She cursed at him, yelled at him, spat out every piece of venom she had towards him and everything he put her through. And finally, when she was all done, she had asked him:

"What are you doing with your life, Derek?"

He shattered, words whispered in a voice void of hope. "…I don't know…"

And that's when she realized what her brother needed most. He needed guidance, control. And with Peter, they finally had that heartfelt talk. The three of them got organized, plotted out his life, giving him something to focus on, something to work for. And so Derek got his life back together using schedules and routines.

Chaos - the unexpected - became something he was afraid of.

Derek had carefully constructed his life around his new goal of finishing school. And once school was done, he would work hard to become a detective. With these tasks in mind, he found focus. And with his strict schedules, he found control. So when Stiles came in, changing up a routine that Derek had grown accustomed to, it was disconcerting. But somehow, the boy managed to become part of Derek's routine, and Derek was okay with that. He was okay with having a friend he could talk to, someone who could make him laugh, even it if was mostly on the inside. He was okay with his little crush and those moments where he ended up doing something unexpected just as long he stayed on track with his real goal.

But loving Stiles? Loving Stiles was dangerous. Loving him could potentially derail him. And worse yet, what if something happened to Stiles? Derek didn't think he could handle a loss like that after only just getting his life back together. He never wanted to find himself in that place again. He was already half-worried about his sister and uncle. It would do him no good to add to that list. So loving Stiles was out of the question.

And since Derek was still unwilling to face the boy after what he had finally concluded was a disaster, it was with some relief that Derek decided to try to go back to how things were before Stiles. He figured he could just avoid the boy and simultaneously avoid his feelings for him like he always did. He grabbed his coffee elsewhere. He studied before classes. He went straight to his mythology class and went straight home after. His nighttime jogs were cut, not needing them anymore without his morning treats. And the only calls he returned were the ones from his family. Anyone else went to voicemail.

It was hard. Stiles had become part of a routine that brought stability in his life, despite all the spontaneous things he had done since meeting him. Not seeing him was hard. And what made it even harder was that Derek knew just where to go if he wanted to see him. He knew if he just walked down a certain way, he could see the boy, possibly talk to him, but the idea of talking to him freaked him out and renewed his diligence in staying away. But it didn't help that Derek still had those shirts. It didn't help that he still had that picture on his phone; on his phone that would ring every morning at 6, then later at 2, and once more at 9; his phone that would chirp before class, during class, and after class, signaling a new message from The Awesome Cool Guy Stiles :D each time. He couldn't even bring himself to read the messages or listen to the voicemails cause he knew if he did, he'd want to run right back to him and he just wasn't ready to. And he wouldn't be ready to until whatever it was that he felt for the boy returned to something he could handle.

But it was hard.

Derek felt himself wanting to cave. Even though it hadn't been that long, he already missed Stiles. Missing him almost overpowered the uncertainty he felt over what Stiles thought about him now. But he was convinced that he had made a fool of himself and he couldn't stand the idea of Stiles mocking him for it. Or possibly pitying him. Or worse yet, turning away from him because of it. So paralyzed by his own thoughts, he couldn't even figure out that if Stiles had any intention of mocking him or turning away from him, he wouldn't have been trying so hard to contact him.

And he still didn't figure it out when after about a week of running away, a pounding came on his door just as Derek was getting ready for bed.

"Derek?" came the muffled voice.

Derek froze, floss halfway up to his mouth.

Another pounding at the door. "Derek? Are you home?"

He turned, walking slowly out of his bathroom to the front door, floss still twined between his fingers. He approached it cautiously, as if it were a wild animal.

"Derek? Are you okay?" He pounded again. "Derek, come on!"

Derek stilled just in front of his door. Just beyond it was Stiles. He wanted nothing more than to just rip the door open and scoop him up into his arms. But he didn't. He just stood there, staring at the door.

"Dere- what? No, it's okay. I'm a fri-"

Derek furrowed his brows in confusion. He moved forward, looking through the peephole. He took a sharp intake of breath in seeing Stiles, even through the tiny hole.

"Well then obviously you don't know him very well cause we're like best friends… Yes, I've been here before. Once… " Stiles was arguing with someone. "Look, that's not necessary. I'm not… Hey wait!" Stiles darted away from the door, only to return a few seconds later. "Derek! Your neighbor is trying to get me arrested!" He paused, looking over his shoulder. "Fine! I'm going! Derek, your crazy ass neighbor is kicking me out! This isn't over yet, Derek!" And with that, Stiles disappeared from sight.

Derek took a step back from the door and found himself gasping for air. Stiles had been right there. He finally uncoiled the floss from around his nearly purple fingers, trying to relax the tension he felt from that short moment. He stumbled backwards until he was leaning against the armrest of his couch. 'He was right there… what did he want? Was he mad at me?' Derek felt himself wanting to run after Stiles. 'But what good would that do? I can't face him… not just yet…' After a few more minutes, Derek sighed. He gathered himself, continuing his nightly routine as if it hadn't happened.

But it had. And it happened twice more. And each time, Derek had just froze right in front of his door, hand outstretched towards the knob, wanting to twist it open, but still afraid of what would happen if he did. And each time, his nosy neighbor had eventually driven the boy away.

Derek began to wonder if he'd ever be ready to face Stiles. Signs seemed to point to 'no'. But life decided to throw him a curveball. It took away the option. Because one morning, after finishing his routine, Derek stepped out the door and froze.

Stiles was there. Sleeping. Right next to his door.

'He must've come back during the night…' Derek thought, as the door shut firmly behind him with a loud thump. Derek panicked, cursing the door for its loud noises.

Stiles stirred at the sound, eyes blinking wearily. He rubbed them and yawned. He shook his head awake, and that's when he realized there was someone standing over him. Stiles looked up and jumped in surprise. "Derek!" He scrambled to stand. "You're here! Well, I'm here- we're here-" he babbled, shrugging.

Derek was glued to the spot. "Stiles, what…?"

"Jesus, man," the boy said, exasperated. "I haven't seen you and I've been worried. You kinda just disappeared on me. I mean, it's only been a few days, but I'm used to seeing you like three or four times a day and you didn't even respond to my calls or texts and so I got worried that maybe something happened to you but then Allison said she had seen you between classes so that at least meant you weren't dead which was a huge relief. But then it wasn't a relief cause I wanted to see you myself and make sure for myself that you were okay. I mean, are you? Okay?" At the blank stare he was getting, he lowered his voice and leaned in. "Look, I know that whole night about your parents was tough, but if you're still hurting from it, I can help you through it."

Derek just stared at Stiles.

Then a thought registered in the boy's brain as he leaned back. "Wait… were you… were you avoiding me? Is that why you haven't been around?" His voice was sad, confused. "Derek, are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?"

"No," he said, firmly. Though he couldn't find the words to explain much of anything he had to at least assure the boy that everything he had done that night was perfect. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Relief washed Stiles' face, but only for a second. He frowned. "Then why are you avoiding me?"

Derek looked down, face flushing red. "I… I wasn't myself that night."

Stiles scoffed. "No shit, Sherlock. It was the anniversary of your parents' death! I don't expect anyone to be at a hundred percent on a day like that. I certainly wasn't."

Derek replayed that night on the beach in his head. He remembered latching on to Stiles and babbling about wanting to see him. Thinking about it again made him want to duck back into his apartment and hide. But the way Stiles was looking at him with concern in his eyes… he couldn't. "I just… I may have done something or said something that I…" he trailed off.

Stiles cocked an eyebrow, ducking his head to try to catch Derek's gaze. Derek wasn't having it. "That you what?" Another thought hit the boy. "What, are you embarrassed?"

Derek remained silent. How was Stiles always just so spot on?

"You're embarrassed? Derek! I do stupid stuff all the time! I make a fool of myself all the time. The last thing you have to be in front of me is embarrassed. I get it, okay?" He ran a hand over his head, sighing heavily. "You know what? No. Not okay. We're friends now, Derek. You don't get to do that. You don't get to just cut me out cause shit is getting tough or cause you think you've made an ass of yourself - which, in this case, isn't even the case! I'm here for you! I'm here to help you through the bad times and even if you do make an ass of yourself, I'm still here so we can laugh about it later. Just like how you were there for me. Besides," he scoffed again, looking at Derek with a look of incredulousness on his face. "You've done plenty of embarrassing things before, way worse than anything that you think happened on the beach. There was that time you admitted your love of cabbage, that one time in front of that Erica girl, the way you pretended to not like my strudel even though you had a gob of it in your mouth, the way you tackled Jackson," Stiles was ticking each moment off on his fingers, "but that last one was pretty awesome so it totally overrules anything embarrassing about it-"

"Stiles," Derek grimaced. Recounting all the ridiculous things he'd done so far was not something he cared to do. Ever. He rubbed his hand against his forehead. "You're not helping."

"I'm just saying that there's nothing you did that night that was even remotely embarrassing so you don't have to hide from me."

Derek was dumbfounded. He dropped his hand back to his side.

Stiles was huffing. He held his hand up. "Let me see your keys."

Derek blinked. "My keys?"

"Yes. Your keys."

Derek reached into his pocket and pulled them out, staring at them as if they'd give him an answer. Why do you need my k-"

Stiles snatched them out of his hand and began to pull the apartment key off the loop.

Derek frowned. "What are yo-"

"I'm gonna make a copy of this-"

"What? No! Stiles-" Derek moved forward, but Stiles quickly stepped back out of reach.

"Actually, yeah, Stiles. Yeah, I'm making a copy of this so if you decide to pull this shit on me again, I'm gonna come into your apartment when you're not home," he pointed at the door behind Derek, "and I'm gonna take apart all of those pretty little Lego sets you got in that toy room of yours and I'm gonna keep just one piece from one set and you're not gonna know which one it is until you put them all back together again and it'll be a vital piece too, so then you're gonna have a toy that's broken, Derek. Broken."

Derek's frown deepened."…That's just cruel."

He placed his hands on his hips. "Well you've left me with no choice. You have to be ruthless sometimes to make a point." He tossed the key ring back to Derek, leaving just the key to his car. He pulled out his phone from his pocket, glancing at the time. "And now, since I'm late for work, you're gonna help me bake. You're gonna do all the heavy lifting for me. I'm talking fifty-pound bags of flour and thirty-pound bags of sugar. And you get to do all the hand-mixing and if you mess up your shirt – your white shirt… actually… is that blue? Derek I told you about separating your whites – I'm not gonna let you go home and change it and it'll be like the Scarlet Letter where the batter stain is your red 'A' so everyone knows what you've done. And you know what? I'm gonna make something lemon. And you're not gonna get any. That's your punishment for trying to get rid of me and for making me worry about you, got it?"

Derek's mouth fell open. He was speechless. Here, standing in front of him, was a boy who was yelling at him, threatening him to essentially stay his friend. Stiles' cheeks were red out of anger; anger in realizing what Derek had done. Derek had tried running away from Stiles, of what he felt for him. But here he was, dragging him back. He didn't care about the things that Derek was embarrassed about – and yes, as Stiles had pointed out, there were plenty. Stiles wasn't here to make fun of him, or pity him, or reject him. He was here out of pure concern over his friend. Derek should never have been worried about what Stiles thought of him because it was clear now that even if it wasn't at the same depth as he cared for him, Stiles cared about Derek too.

"…Okay."

Stiles' head snapped up. "What?"

Derek slowly nodded. "Okay."

A smile began to form on the boy's face. "Okay then." He pocketed the key and grinned. "Let's go."

When they got to the shop, Derek followed Stiles' every instruction, wary of any messes he might make on his shirt. He helped Stiles make madeleine sandwiches, filled with a lemon curd. He resisted the temptation to eat one as the smell of it wafted through the kitchen. And while his heart still pounded a bit harder just by being near him, and his breath still caught each time he saw him smile, Derek realized that maybe he could do this. Maybe he could handle falling for this boy, because he certainly didn't think he would be able to stay away from him any more, even if Stiles didn't have a key.

And later, when Derek was getting settled in class and found a small bag of the madeleine he helped make tucked away in his satchel, Derek knew. When he read the messy scrawl that said 'You can thank me later Sourwolf', he knew. All this time he spent avoiding falling in love with Stiles, he finally understood that he was already there. He was in love. And while the thought still terrified him, he was okay with that. It was easier to be in love with Stiles than it was to run away from the feelings that had already taken root in his heart.

/\/\/\

He had heard of this before but he had never experienced it himself until now. And quite frankly, he couldn't understand why anyone would willingly put his or herself through this masochistic brand of torture. But glancing at the boy laughing by his side, he could understand how sometimes people had no choice.

Ah yes. Derek was, for the first time in his life, feeling what it was like to have an unrequited love.

He had accepted his feelings for Stiles, unable to run from them. But just because he accepted them did in no way mean he had to act on them. Because what if Stiles didn't feel the same way? Derek didn't think he could handle that kind of rejection. And worse yet, what if Stiles rejected him and felt awkward around him afterward. Then Derek would be the one being avoided. And the thought of that, as hypocritical as it was, was much more alarming than he cared to admit. He had been on that dark side before with Stiles. It was not a fun place to be, and that was just when they had started out. He was certainly not eager to go there again now that their relationship had deepened and especially not after realizing his love for the barista.

So Derek was content just being back by the boy's side. He was happy to spend time with him any chance that he got. And little did he know, Derek was just about to get a big chance.

One morning, when Derek arrived at the coffee shop, he was surprised to see that it was still closed. The lights were off and it didn't look like anyone was in the back. He frowned.

'Where's Stiles?'

And before his brain could come up with a plethora of horrible scenarios that would put him in a state of panic, he whipped his phone out, ready to call the boy to make sure he was all right. He was just about to hit the call button when he heard footsteps fast approaching.

"Sorry! Sorry! I know I'm late! Sorry!"

Derek turned to see Stiles running up to the shop. He waved at Derek, motioning him to follow him through the back way. Unlocking the door and flipping on the power, Stiles quickly hurried into the kitchen leaving Derek to close the door behind him.

"Is everything all right?" Derek asked, walking up to the counter, calling through the open door.

"Is everything all right?" He heard Stiles scoff as loud clangs came through the kitchen. "Everything is totally and completely not all right!" Another loud clang.

"Do you need help?"

Stiles groaned. "Please."

Derek dropped his satchel on to his regular spot along with his jacket. Then he made his way into the kitchen, carefully stepping over Stiles' backpack and jacket. Stiles had apparently dumped all of his things haphazardly on the floor before proceeding to run around the kitchen, trying to quickly set up for the morning. Derek moved them aside so the boy wouldn't trip over them.

"Heads up!" Derek swiftly caught the apron tossed in his direction, pulling it over his head and securing it around his waist. "Oh, and I think it goes without saying," Stiles said, disappearing into the walk-in refrigerator, "but please don't tell my boss I put you to work. If anyone asks, I'm giving you a tour." He reappeared again, arms full of ingredients.

Since Stiles didn't have much time to get his baking done, he settled for something quick and easy. Something that he could leave Derek with while he set up the rest of the shop. Which was why Derek was staring at a bag of marshmallows and box of Rice Krispies.

"Just stir the marshmallows in the pot with some butter," the boy instructed. "Once they're fully melted, move it into the mixing bowl and pour the Rice Krispies in and mix, mix, mix. I gotta go flip chairs and restock cups and all that."

"Um, maybe I should do that stuff…"

"Nonsense. You'll be fine," Stiles smiled, waving his hand.

And so Derek was left in the kitchen by himself. He followed Stiles' instructions, doing his best not to duff it as sounds of Stiles' movements could be heard through the door. As Derek watched the marshmallows melt slowly, he called out.

"So… why were you late today?"

"Cause my upstairs neighbors are idiots."

Derek cocked an eyebrow at that. "What happened?"

Stiles jumped back in, making his way over to where a tray of clean mugs was resting. He picked them up and headed back out. "Late last night, someone decided to run a bath. Unfortunately, they forgot their decision and ended up leaving their water on for hours." He heard a clang before Stiles came back to grab another tray. "So, as you can imagine, the water seeped through the floors and into our apartment. So, in the middle of the night, our friggin' bathroom ceiling caved."

Derek stared at Stiles dumbstruck. "Wow."

"Hey, hey. Keep stirring," Stiles nodded before continuing his way back out the door. Derek did as he was told. "Fortunately," Stiles continued, "the damage was limited to the bathroom. The building owner is getting everything repaired and even put me and Scott up in a hotel. Unfortunately, the hotel is about a fifteen minute drive from here and I don't have a car." Stiles came back and grabbed a stack of plates. "And if today's bus commute is an example of what I have to put up with for the next few days, then I'm probably just gonna have to switch shifts with Isaac. Or maybe just convince him to let me stay with him until this thing is over. Or maybe even Danny and Jackson will let me stay with them, but I think living with Jackson might be hazardous to my health…"

"…You could stay with me." Derek's eyes widened in surprise. The words were out of his mouth before he had even thought about it. He was glad that Stiles was in the front so he couldn't see how red Derek had turned. Unfortunately, that was short lived as Stiles quickly darted back in the kitchen, a look of question on his face.

"What?"

"I-um… what?" Derek stammered, looking at the boy.

Stiles just stared at him curiously. "What did you say?"

"I-um," Derek fumbled, lowering his head and turning his back slightly to keep they boy from seeing his reddening face. "I mean- I live close by- you know that- I just- if you needed a place-" Derek furrowed his brows. 'Just stop talking. Just stop talking!' He inwardly yelled at himself.

Stiles was quiet, but Derek could sense his eyes on him. He refused to look up, finding the melting of the marshmallows fascinating.

"Really?"

'Yes really. In fact, I already have a drawer just for you,' was what instantly came to Derek's head. But what came out of how mouth was a measly, "Um." He fumbled for some more words to say. "I mean… you have a key already anyway…"

"I mean, I wouldn't want to impose… it would just be for a few days."

'Stay forever!' was what instantly came to Derek's head. But what came out of his mouth was a simple, "Okay." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Aft-after your last class, I can take you to your hotel… and you can get your stuff… if you want." Derek frowned to himself. 'Oh God, what am I doing? What am I saying? I can't do this. I can't have Stiles living with me. That's just insane! He'll be sleeping in my apartment. He'll be showering in my apartment! He'll be naked and wet in my apartment!' Derek felt his breathing get rough, panicking at what he had just agreed to. 'This is a bad idea. This is a terrible idea.'

Trapped in his thoughts, Derek didn't hear the footsteps come up behind him until two arms were wrapped around him. Derek froze. He felt Stiles lay his head against his shoulder, nuzzling it softly.

"You're amazing, you know that?" Stiles said gently, his breath brushing against the nape of Derek's neck.

Derek couldn't move. He couldn't even breathe.

He felt Stiles shift, before he gasped sharply. "You're also burning the marshmallows! Derek!"

Derek was swatted away, stirring spoon snatched from his grasp as Stiles tried to figure out if the marshmallows could be salvaged. He half-heard the boy ask him to finish flipping the chairs. And like always, Derek did as he was told.

It wasn't until he got to the last chair that Derek took a deep breath, allowing a bright grin to spread across his face. Okay, so maybe living with Stiles wouldn't be so bad after all.

/\/\/\

Derek spent his afternoon cleaning up his apartment. While it wasn't nearly as catastrophic as it was the first time Stiles came over, it wasn't exactly neat either. After tossing out a bag full of garbage and throwing his linens into the wash, he had just enough time to get some studying in before leaving to get his evening jog in. He figured he could just drive to the school so when Stiles got out of class, they could go straight to the hotel. He was waiting for Stiles, sitting on the planter like usual. When the boy finally appeared, Derek led the way to his car.

"Thanks again, Derek. I really appreciate this."

"Yeah, no problem," he replied, fighting off the blush creeping up.

"I talked to the landlord earlier. It should only be two days. Three, tops."

"Like I said," Derek said, trying to sound nonchalant, "not a problem."

Stiles pointed out the way to the hotel. When they arrived, Derek followed Stiles into the room, offering to carry his toothbrush. Stiles just laughed, but led the way in.

"Hey, Mr. Hale!" Scott smiled, waving at the older man. Derek just nodded in greeting to the boy. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, schoolbooks and papers spread all around him. "It's pretty cool of you to let Stiles stay with you. I told him I could drive him to work in the morning-"

"Scott, you're a demon in the mornings if you don't get enough sleep. There's no way in hell I'm waking you up to take me to work."

Scott rolled his eyes and looked to Derek. "He's exaggerating."

Stiles scoffed, also looking to Derek. "I wish."

"Anyway," Scott said, blowing a raspberry at his friend. He looked back to Derek with a smile. "It sucks about our apartment, but at least we get a new toilet out of it, huh?"

"That and a week off our rent," Stiles smirked, ducking into the bathroom to collect his things.

Scott watched him go, then took the opportunity to leap off his bed and scurry over to Derek. "Dude, Mr. Hale," he said lowly. "There are some things you gotta know about living with Stiles."

Derek cocked an eyebrow, looking at the younger boy cautiously. "Like what?"

"Stiles is like a gremlin." At the blank stare he received, Scott gasped. "You don't know about Gizmo?" No expression. "Mogwai?" he said, voice imitating the creature.

"Scott, what's your point?" Derek sighed.

"Right, well there are three rules you gotta follow when living with Stiles. First, never never never let Stiles watch a scary movie after dark. Two, make sure he's got plenty of blankets. And three, lock the bathroom door. That one's important. Stiles is notorious for-"

"Okay, I'm all set."

Scott grinned at his best friend as he slapped Derek heartily on the back. Derek just scowled at him. "All righty. Have fun you two!" He waited until Stiles walked past him before turning back to Derek, voice low. "Remember! Don't forget what I told you, okay?"

Derek wanted to know why, but Stiles was holding the door open, waiting for him. He had his suitcase in one hand, and his toothbrush outstretched in the other towards Derek. He snorted, snatching it from the smug boy.

"See ya later, Scott," Stiles waved before leading the way back down.

Derek gave one last glance back at Scott before the door closed behind him. He was holding three fingers up, nodding vigorously at them. It made Derek wonder just what he had gotten himself into.

They stopped for groceries on their way back. Derek tried to make a good impression by buying fresh produce instead of his usual splay of chips and soda. He insisted that Stiles pick a few things for himself since for the next few days or so, Derek's home was his home as well. They carried everything up to the apartment as Derek led the way in.

"Hey," Stiles said, smiling as he looked around. "It's actually clean this time."

Derek rolled his eyes. "I told you, it's not always like that."

Stiles eyed the bag of garbage sitting in the corner, smirking. "Yeah. Sure."

"That- that was from yesterday. I just forgot to take it down," he lied.

Stiles didn't reply and instead started putting their purchases away.

Stiles insisted on making a late dinner for the two of them, though Derek hardly fought him on that. He doubted he'd ever refuse a Stiles-made meal. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until they both were getting ready for bed.

"You can take the bed," Derek offered, pulling a blanket from the linen closet, preparing to sleep on the couch.

"No way, man. This is your apartment. And that's your bed."

"And you're my guest. Take the bed."

"The only way I'll take the bed is if you share it with me."

Derek stiffened, eyes going wide.

"Mm-hm," Stiles smirked. "That's what I thought." He snatched the blanket right out of Derek's hands. "I'm taking the couch."

Derek sighed, collecting himself. "Fine." He looked around as Stiles walked over to his suitcase, pulling something out. "Did you need anything else?" He thought about what Scott had said. "Maybe another blanket?"

Stiles turned back around. "No, I should be fine with the one."

Derek blinked. Sourwolf was in the boy's arms.

Stiles grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "What? He protects me while I sleep," he explained, snuggling the stuffed animal.

Derek just smiled softly as Stiles got settled on the couch. "Good night, Stiles."

He tilted his head back to look at Derek upside-down. He smiled. "Good night."

Derek climbed into bed, briefly entertaining the fact that there was more than enough room that they could share if had he said anything. 'Cause that's what I need,' Derek thought to himself. 'It's bad enough that he's in the same apartment. I don't know what I'd do if he were in the same bed.' Turning off the light and pulling his blanket over himself, he thought it was probably a bad idea to have 'Stiles' and 'bed' as the last thing he thought of before going to sleep.

/\/\/\

When Derek woke up the next morning, he realized two things. One, he was cold. This was due to the fact that his blanket was gone. And two, there was something shifting on his bed.

Derek shot up, looking at his bed's other occupant. Stiles was there, curled up in his blanket. The boy nuzzled the pillow, snuggling his wolf close to him before settling back into sleep. Derek rubbed his eyes, trying to make sure he wasn't dreaming. But no, Stiles was really there. He looked between his open door back to the boy in his bed and back. 'When did he climb in?' he wondered.

"Stiles." Derek said loudly. "What are you doing in my bed?"

He got no response. Rather than press him for answers, Derek decided it would be best to just start his morning routine. He needed to get his morning workout in. It would help release his pent up aggression. And other pent up things. Having Stiles in his bed was certainly a trying test.

He was in the shower, washing off the built up sweat from his workout, enjoying the feel of the warm spray against his muscles. Suddenly, the door popped open. Derek jumped in surprise, turning to face the wall, trying to cover himself up. "What the hell?" he growled, looking over his shoulder through the steamy glass.

Stiles was there, standing by the toilet, doing his business as Derek pointedly did not look anywhere below the waist. But with the way Stiles was angled, it wasn't like Derek would have been able to see anything anyway.

Derek glanced at the boy's face. 'Wait... Is he still asleep?' He poked his head out to get a better look. "Stiles?"

"Mrn'n Dere…" the boy grunted, eyes heavy with sleep, not even turning in his direction. Stiles pushed the toilet seat cover down, slapping at the plunger to flush it.

"Wait, no!" Derek called out, but it was too late. Derek suffered through the harshness of a cold spray as Stiles mechanically washed his hands and walked out as if nothing had happened. Derek shut off the nozzle, jumping out and grabbing a towel to quickly dry himself of the cold water. 'Jesus…'

When he walked into his room, Stiles was back in bed, blankets secured tightly around the sleeping boy. Derek shook his head before making his way to his closet and picking out his outfit for the day. He slipped back into the bathroom, making sure to lock the door this time.

/\/\/\

It was five when he heard Stiles' phone go off, probably an alarm to wake him up. Derek was sitting at his kitchen table reading the news when Stiles stumbled out of the room, still wrapped inside his cocoon of blankets to grab his phone charging next to the couch. He had one eye open as he squinted over to where Derek was watching him, amused.

"Morning," Derek greeted, looking at him over the top of his paper.

Stiles yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Morning," he croaked out. "Was I… I was in your room, right?" Derek merely nodded. Stiles looked at the fluffy blanket wrapped around him. "Did I steal your blanket?" Again, Derek nodded. Stiles sighed.

"I thought you said you were fine with just the one."

"I was. But I guess I got colder through the night. Scott says I used to steal his blankets all the time when we had sleepovers as kids."

Derek frowned at the idea of Stiles in the same bed as Scott, but pushed the mental image aside. He shrugged. "He did warn me to make sure you had plenty of blankets. My fault I guess."

"He warned you?"

Derek nodded. "He also warned me about locking the bathroom door. I should have listened to that one, too."

Stiles' jaw dropped. "Did I… what did I do?"

"You walked in on my shower." Stiles shut his eyes, cheeks turning red. Derek was having a hard time not enjoying this. "You also flushed the toilet."

Stiles visibly winced at that, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Was it cold?"

"Yup."

He looked to Derek with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry. I am completely unaware of myself early mornings."

Derek flipped his paper back up to continue reading. "Don't worry about it. I know better now. And I now know that no matter the reason, I shouldn't let you watch scary movies after dark."

"Wait, what?"

Derek looked back to Stiles. "Scott also warned me not to let you watch anything scary after dark. And considering his other warnings, I guess this one is important too."

Stiles scoffed. "There's nothing to warn you about with that. He's being ridiculous." Derek just looked at him skeptically. "I'm not twelve, Derek. I can watch a scary movie. It's not a big deal." Again, Derek fixed him with an unconvinced look. "I'll prove it to you," Stiles said. "We'll rent a scary movie. It'll be fine. You'll see. Scott was probably just pulling your leg."

Derek looked back to his paper. "Okay. If you say so."

"I do." Stiles said with a nod. He shuffled to his suitcase, pulling out a bag of toiletries. He looked to Derek. "Um, is it cool if I can get a towel?"

"I hung a fresh one in the bathroom."

"Yesssss… You're awesome."

When Derek heard the shower begin to run, he tried his damnedest to concentrate on the paper and not on the naked boy in the other room. 'Well… technically, he barged in during my shower… it's only fair that I would do the same…' He entertained the idea for a beat, but ultimately decided against it. That would only lead to problems that Derek couldn't handle. He tried focusing on his paper again. His concentration broke again when he heard the shower stop. Stiles popped a wet head out of the bathroom, looking over to where Derek was. He grinned sheepishly again as their eyes met.

"I just… my clothes," Stiles pointed at his suitcase on the other side of the room.

Before Derek could even offer to bring it to the boy, Stiles darted out of the bathroom, holding his towel securely around his waist, giving Derek a quick show of Stiles' naked and wet torso before running back in. It made Derek wish he had a cold shower now. And yeah. Really. He couldn't handle this. Derek dropped his head onto his arm on the table, stifling a groan.

'This kid is going to be the death of me…'

/\/\/\

Derek ended up going to the coffee shop with Stiles, a half an hour earlier than when he normally arrived. Stiles didn't mind. It gave him someone to talk to while he opened up shop. The rest of the day went on like normal. Derek got his coffee, complete with a drawing of a lion, ate some mini red velvet whoopie pies, and listened to Stiles chatter away. He went to class, fought off the replaying image of a naked Stiles running in his head, tried not to think of how they technically slept together, and took notes on the lectures. He also tried not to think about what it might've been like had he hung up a smaller towel.

'Hmm… maybe tomorrow…'

And then Derek mentally scolded himself for trying to exploit his otherwise guileless friend, although he didn't exactly take the idea off the table. Derek was a bad, bad man.

/\/\/\

Later, when Stiles got out of class, the two went to rent a scary movie as planned and order a pizza on their way back. And to Derek, it certainly seemed like Scott might've had this one wrong. Stiles seemed to be doing fine. They were sitting on the couch, watching the movie like nothing. The only inkling Derek might've got that something might be wrong was when Stiles took his blanket and wrapped it around himself, pulling it up over his head and gathering Sourwolf into his lap. But his eyes were still glued intently on the screen so Derek chopped it up to him just being cold. When the movie was done, Derek got up off the couch, stretched and was ready to hit the hay.

"Well, that was uneventful," Derek commented, taking the movie out the DVD player and putting it in its case. He looked to Stiles. "Night, then."

"What? Wait- no!"

Derek was stopped as a hand seized his wrist, strong in its grasp. He looked to the wide-eyed boy. "No?"

"Derek, there are evil, vengeful ghosts out there waiting to eat my eyeballs! We can't go to sleep! What if they come after us?"

"You can't be serious," Derek said, rolling his eyes. He saw the pout form on the boy's lips. "You're serious."

"It could happen!"

"Stiles, even if it could – which it can't – what have you done that would make anything vengeful towards you?" Stiles thought about it – actually thought about it. Derek shook his head before the boy could even get a word out. "You're being ridiculous. It was just a movie."

"Fine, fine," he frowned. "Can you at least just stay up with me? Just for a little bit?"

Derek sighed. "Fine."

Unfortunately, a little bit turned into a couple of hours. At some point, they had migrated into Derek's room. They were playing cards on his bed. Stiles was still wrapped in his blanket, one arm still holding the stuffed wolf his other hand holding his cards up to his face. Derek was stretched out across the foot of his bed, nodding off.

"Derek!"

His eyes snapped open. "What?"

"Seven?"

He glanced at his cards. "Go fish." He watched Stiles pick from the pile between them and sighed. "Stiles, I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

"You're already in bed."

"You know what I mean," he said groggily. He dropped his cards on top of the pile, before moving to slip under the covers. He reached for his bedside light. "Good night, Stiles." He said, emerging them in darkness.

"Wait, wait, wait," Stiles hissed. "Derek?"

"Mm."

"What if there's a creepy dead girl out there?"

"There's no creepy dead girl in my apartment."

"But how can you be sure? What if the contractor buried her here before you came here?"

"Well then she's been a very quiet dead girl. Go to sleep." Derek was just about to drift off when he heard Stiles call his name again. "What?"

"What if she's just biding her time?"

"Stiles," Derek practically growled. He flipped over, gathering the bundle of fear into his arms and held him. He pulled Stiles in close, his chest pressed against the boy's back. "I'll keep you safe," he murmured. "Go 'sleep."

He heard Stiles sigh, arms tightening around his Sourwolf. Satisfied, Derek let himself drift off to sleep.

/\/\/\

Despite being secure in Derek's arms, Stiles still somehow managed to steal his blanket.

/\/\/\

Convincing himself it was just a little bit of punishment for the boy for having kept him up and for stealing the covers, Derek went ahead and gave Stiles a smaller towel. Stiles was none the wiser.

/\/\/\

During class, Derek had to fight off the mental image of a naked Stiles in a shorter towel running in his mind. He also had to fight off the idea of not giving the boy a towel at all. He also chose to ignore the fact that they had technically slept together in his bed two nights in a row now.

/\/\/\

And it was with great disappointment that Derek found out Scott and Stiles' apartment was ready. He tried not to think of it as a death march as he walked Stiles home.

"Thanks again, Derek," Stiles smiled brightly once they were standing outside his apartment door. "For letting me crash with you. And for carrying my toothbrush."

Derek just nodded solemnly, glancing lazily at said toothbrush in his hand. "Anytime."

"Wanna come in for a bit?"

Derek shook his head. "Nah, I should head back."

"Right," he nodded slowly. He put his suitcase down and wrapped his arms around Derek for a hug. "Sorry about stealing your blanket," he said softly into his ear. "And thanks for keeping me safe." He turned his head, giving Derek a little kiss on the cheek.

He smiled at him before taking his toothbrush, picking up his suitcase, and stepping into the apartment. "Night Derek."

Derek blinked. "Night Stiles," he breathed.

On his way home, Derek couldn't stop himself from touching his cheek where Stiles' lips had pressed against him. He couldn't stop the grin he had on his face as he literally ran home in his excitement. He decided that letting Stiles stay with him had been his best decision ever. And when he climbed into bed that night, smelling the boy's scent on his pillow and in his blanket and just being enveloped in Stiles, he thought 'Yeah. I definitely could get used to that.'

Notes: 'Derek stiffened.' Pun intended haha XD I would also like to note that you may have misunderstood my last note. I wouldn't be writing this story over in Stiles' POV. It would be the regular version with author notes shoved into it with the occasional glimpse into Stiles' POV. There are some moments where I like to have Stiles say or do something for reasons that one might not be able to infer. And besides, I also kinda like not knowing what's going on in Stiles' head. It's fun.

Also, thank you for faving and following and reviewing. Each one only adds to the Sterek feels XD Pffft like I need more of that anyway... I do though XD lol.