Baking My Way Into Your Heart – Booked Part II

When morning decided to rear its ugly head, Derek was in no mood to get out of bed. His alarm was screeching at him so he smacked it, rolled over, and stared blankly at the window. Unfortunately, smacking the clock accidentally set off the radio option. And what came on wasn't exactly soothing to his ears.

You're beautiful, it's true.

I saw your face in a crowded place.

And I don't know what to do,

Cause I'll never be with you…

'What. The actual. Fuck.' Derek yanked his clock from where it had been sitting innocently on his nightstand, ripping the cord from the socket, and threw it across the room, effectively smashing the device. Was it a bit of an overreaction? Probably. But Derek decided he never liked that clock anyway. He would have to invest in one without a bothersome radio.

Eventually, Derek did pull himself out of bed because a solid routine was the best thing to get out of any slump. It lets you know that the days will continue as they should, no matter how shitty a mood you're in.

'I'm fine,' Derek thought to himself as he did his push-ups. 'So what if Stiles finds a nice girl or even a guy to marry? So what? We're still friends. That's not gonna change. In fact, we're gonna stay such good friends that I'm gonna be his best man.' Derek frowned at that. 'Okay, maybe that spot will be reserved for Scott since they're basically family. But after Scott, it's gonna be me and I will put on the stupid penguin suit and I'll help plan the bachelor party, and I will be the best God damn groomsman Stiles could ever hope for. And even when we're old and grey, he'll still be making me my coffee with the stupid little drawings in it and I'll still be here to protect him from everything. From some annoying kids stepping on his grass to annoying pill bottles he's having hard times opening. And if he falls down and can't get up? Well, forget Life Alert. I'll be there drag his ass to the emergency room.'

Derek sped up, exhaling every time he dropped back down. 'I'm okay with just being his friend. I'd rather have him in my life as my friend than not have him at all.' Derek dropped down and paused after this thought. He shut his eyes and let himself fall to the floor, burying his face in his arms. 'But why can't I have him?' He let out a loud groan. 'My life would be ten times easier if he would just love me back. Like me back, even. Just a bit. Just a teeny-tiny bit. A fraction of what I feel for him.'

Derek sighed, righting himself to continue his workout. 'Until then, I'm fine. Everything's fine.'

And Derek proved to himself that everything was fine by not making a big deal about showing up at the coffee shop that morning. He'd be fine seeing Stiles. Because they're friends. And friends don't make a big deal about getting upset over seeing the object of their unrequited love getting friendly with someone else who made a more logically sound prospective partner than he did. Yeah.

"Morning, Derek," Isaac nodded from behind the counter as Derek walked in.

Stiles burst through the kitchen door, stuttering to a stop with his arms up for balance. "I got it, I got it!" he said, pushing past his coworker to reach the coffeemaker. "Morning Derek," he smiled, wiping his hands on his apron before setting to work.

"Morning Stiles, Isaac," Derek greeted. Even after all the pining he did last night, he couldn't help but still feel elated in seeing the younger boy. It seemed Stiles would always take his breath away.

"The hell, Stiles? You're supposed to be baking," Isaac half-heartedly frowned.

"I am. I will. It's fine. It's Derek's coffee. I make his coffee better than you do," he teased, snickering at the blonde. "Tell him, Derek."

Derek had to nod. "It's true."

Isaac rolled his eyes. "Get a room already."

Both Derek and Stiles seemed to ignore the comment.

"Ah…mm-hmm, there and… voilà!" Stiles spun around, setting the mug in front of Derek.

Derek looked into the cup. "Is… is that a seahorse?"

Isaac also looked at the drawing and chuckled. "Stiles, you have wayyyy too much time on your hands. Where do you even learn these things?"

"You're just jealous. You wish you had my awesome skills." He looked to Derek. "I'll bring you your pastries when they're done, okay? It shouldn't be that long."

Derek just nodded. "Yeah, no problem."

Stiles smiled softly, although his eyes stayed on Derek as if trying to read him. "So um, how are you?"

Derek gulped lightly, then gave a curt nod. "I'm fine."

The corners of Stiles' lips turned down for a fraction of a second, before he masked it with a smile. "Well… you're about to be even better," he said ominously. Before Derek could ask what he meant by that, Stiles had spun back around and disappeared into the kitchen.

Shrugging it off, Derek took a seat in his regular spot and pulled out his psychology notes just as a group of students walked in through the door. He became immersed in his schoolwork for the next few minutes, when shortly after, Isaac collapsed into the seat across from him, having fulfilled the group's orders.

"Man, these early mornings are killing me," he groaned, throwing his head back. "Finals need to be over and done with so I can go back to my regular schedule."

"How're you doing in your classes?" Derek asked, not only to be polite, but because it actually mattered to him how Isaac was faring. Somewhere along the line, Derek had taken an interest in the other barista. He was probably the only other person next to Stiles that Derek actually considered a friend.

"I'm not doing so bad in most of them, but I think I could be doing a little better in Psych."

"General? With Bradford?"

"Yeah."

"I took that class about three semesters ago. I think I still have the final, if you wanna take a look at it. I mean, obviously it's not gonna be the same questions, but it'll give you an idea what to focus on."

"Yeah? That'd be great. Thanks, Derek," Isaac smiled.

Derek just nodded before looking back over his notes. From the corner of his eye, he saw Isaac stretch his arms over his head.

"Ugh," he groaned, joints cracking. "I don't know how Stiles does it. To get up early, serve sleep-deprived people alone until I get in at 8, and bake. It's madness."

Derek glanced back up. "Well to be fair, it's hardly this busy the rest of the semester. Sometimes he even naps in the morning, so lucky for him I'm not a petty criminal." Isaac just snorted at that. "Plus, I'm sure if you worked early mornings more often, you'd probably get used to all that."

"I guess," Isaac shrugged. "That's probably how come he has the energy to be baking like crazy back there." He snorted again. "He must have a craving for lemon today or something."

Derek cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"He's back there making lemon tarts and lemon cookies and even lemon muffins. I swear, he's lucky our boss likes him or he might get in trouble for not giving enough variety."

Derek was pensive. He couldn't simply brush off the idea that Stiles was making all this on a whim. Stiles constantly teased him for his affinity for lemon. It made Derek curious as to what Stiles was thinking.

"Can I go back there?"

This time it was Isaac who cocked an eyebrow. "You know, when I said 'get a room' earlier, I didn't mean our kitchen."

Derek rolled his eyes. He didn't even wait for a response. He just stood up, made his way behind the counter, and walked right into the kitchen, ignoring the amused snicker behind him.

"Oh, good! Can you go in the walk-in and get me some more cream? Bring out three jugs. I think I'm gonna need 'em all. Oh! And there's a bowl of lemon juice in there that I squeezed earlier. If you get that too, I'll love you forever."

Derek froze just inside the kitchen at the words. Stiles had his back to him as he whisked away at some concoction in his arms.

"Isaac! Come on!" Stiles snapped when he didn't hear movement.

Derek actually jumped into action, despite not being Isaac, or a paid employee for that matter. He entered the refrigerator, found what Stiles had asked for and placed it all on the workstation.

"Thanks, buddy. You're a lifesaver! Or in this case, a batter saver," he chuckled at his own joke.

Derek looked around. "You need anything else?"

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Stiles jumped, startled. In his surprise, he jerked his arms, successfully launching his batter into the air before gravity did its job and made it come back down again… all over the busy barista.

Derek stared, wide-eyed, mouth open with a gasp. Was this what it was like to see it from the other side? Derek immediately felt the urge to take a picture so he coule remember this forever. He scrambled for his phone and quickly took a picture of his shocked friend, before an uncharacteristic fit of laughter came over him. So amused was he that he found himself doubled over the workstation, trying hard to catch his breath.

"Damn it, Derek," he heard Stiles whine. "What are you doing back here? I thought you were Isaac."

Derek couldn't even answer.

"Yes, yes. Soak it up," the boy said, dryly, grabbing a towel and wiping his face. "Nearly giving me a heart attack and destroying my batter is hilarious."

Derek tried hard to restrain himself. He stood upright and fought off his smile, although a chuckle here and there continued to rack his form. "Can you really blame me?"

"Yes, actually. You startled me. If you hadn't, I wouldn't be covered in this stuff." He undid his apron, carefully balled it up so it wouldn't drip on the floor and walked over to the sink to wash off his arms. "It's all over my shirt… and my hair…"

Derek looked down at his own shirt. Without even a beat of hesitation, he slipped off his jacket and pulled the Henley over his head, leaving him in just his A-shirt before slipping his jacket back on. Another idea came to mind as Derek glanced at the sprayer dangling above the sink, while Stiles tried to get the excess batter off his face. Putting the shirt down for now, Derek walked over, coming up behind the boy. "Here, let me."

"What?"

Without even a word of explanation, Derek took Stiles by the scruff of his neck and pushed him forward so that he was bent over the sink. Ignoring the younger boy's flails and struggles, Derek grabbed the sprayer and aimed it for Stiles' head.

"Cold! That's cold! If you're gonna wash me like a friggin' dog in a sink, at least adjust it so it's warm!"

Derek removed his hand from Stiles' neck to fiddle with the tap until it was a more agreeable temperature. He moved his hand to the top of the boy's head, running it against the short hairs to wash out the batter.

One could argue that Derek might've manhandled Stiles a bit as a sort of punishment for not loving him back. One could argue it, but that certainly didn't mean Derek would admit to it.

Once he was done, he shut off the water, looked around for a clean towel, and draped it over the boy's head once he had found one.

"Great," Stiles growled. "Now my head is gonna smell like cheap detergent." He stood upright before drying his head off. "Thanks," he muttered to Derek, although he didn't sound the least bit sincere.

Derek just chuckled to himself once more, walking back to where he had left his shirt. "Here," he called out, tossing it to Stiles once he had the boy's attention.

"Oh. Where did you…?"

"I was wearing it," Derek said simply.

"Oh-um th-thanks…" he stuttered, ducking his head and spinning around. Despite the move, Derek still saw the blush come over the boy's face.

Stiles pulled his soiled shirt up over his head, and suddenly it was Derek's turn to blush. It made the older boy briefly wonder if Stiles had gotten batter on his pants too.

He slipped Derek's shirt over his head, and frowned. "Way to make me feel tiny compared to your chiseled chest," he said, dryly.

Derek narrowed his eyes. "You could always finish your shift nude." It was meant to be a joke, but Derek couldn't help but secretly hope that the carefree Stiles would be in a bit of an exhibitionist mood today.

"Ha. No thanks," he said, giving his friend a withering look.

He just shrugged in return. Can't blame a guy for trying.

Stiles tugged up the sleeves and grabbed a clean apron, securing it around his waist. As he glanced at the remaining batter in the mixing bowl, Derek remembered why he was back there in the first place.

"Stiles, what are you doing?"

The boy looked up, confused by the question. "I'm… whisking?"

Derek sighed. "No. I mean, Isaac said you're making lemon tarts, and lemon cookies, and lemon muffins." Stiles' expression changed into one of understanding. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

"My… job?" At the blank glare he was receiving, he sighed. "All right fine. Look, I don't know what happened yesterday, but I do know that even though you said everything was okay, everything was not okay."

"Stiles, nothing-"

"No, not nothing!" He sighed again, tossing the bowl onto the workstation. "You don't wanna tell me? That's fine. But don't lie to me and say everything is okay when obviously you were upset about something. And all this," he said, waving his arm over the cream, the batter, the lemons, "this is me trying to make you happy the best way I know how."

Derek was stunned. Speechless.

Stiles looked back at him, eyes sad and confused. "Last night I couldn't sleep cause I kept thinking that maybe I did something wrong by showing up." He dropped his gaze and started picking at his nails, the sleeves of the oversized shirt slipping back down his arms. "I know I should've called… I was gonna call… but what if you said no? And… I thought it would be fun. I mean, finals week is already stressful enough as is. I just thought I could have some fun with my friend, especially since I haven't seen you as much as I'm used to."

Derek tried to calm the pounding in his chest. He forced himself to move. Derek crossed the kitchen to stand in front of Stiles, putting a hand on top of his to still their fidgeting, before taking ahold of one long sleeve and folding it up in a way where they wouldn't slip back down. "Stiles, listen to me," he urged, moving to fix the other sleeve. "I'm not mad at you." He stilled his own hands, his own fidgeting, and forced himself to concentrate. Placing them on Stiles' shoulders, Derek cocked his head to try to catch the boy's eyes. "You did nothing wrong, okay?"

"Then why'd you give away the cookies?" he asked, his voice small, eyes still trained on his nails.

He exhaled heavily, dropping his hands back to his side. 'How do I answer that? I can't tell him I was jealous of how good they looked together. That's ridiculous.' He shook his head. "I don't know," he finally said. "She looked like she'd enjoy them more than I would." Stiles finally looked up, although he seemed unconvinced. Derek reached. "Look, you're right, okay? Finals week is stressful. I guess I got upset over… wasting time having to take a shower when Erica and I could've finished up the rest of our list." It was partly true. A very small part. "And no, I don't blame you for that." He added, as Stiles opened his mouth to comment. "Okay, maybe, honestly, a little-"

"Ah ha!"

"-But to be fair, she was late so I blame her, too. It's not like I want to have her over again."

"Wait, you don't like her?"

"Not really, no. I mean, she's nice enough. Smart. But she comes off a little arrogant sometimes."

Stiles snorted at this. "That's like the pot calling the kettle black."

Derek rolled his eyes. "The point is I'd much rather spend my evening walking my friend home than sit at my kitchen table with a girl I hardly know. And now, that's exactly what I have to do. Again."

Although it wasn't the main reason, it was a valid reason as to why Derek had been so upset. It was true. Erica wasn't half bad, but she was no Stiles. Stiles was caring and carefree, loving and loveable. And Derek didn't exactly enjoy sharing his time with him with someone else, especially when it reminded him of how much Stiles wasn't his and how he might never be. Thoughts like that just put him in a dark place and whenever Derek went there, he almost never wanted company – but more than that, he never wanted company to see him there – and most of all, he never wanted Stiles to see him there. So he allowed himself to wallow in the night, but with morning, it was time to crawl out. He forced himself to move on and look to something brighter. To accept whatever he could get. And in this case, he was happy to be whatever Stiles needed him to be as long as he was still needed.

A small smile began to form the Stiles' lips that slowly grew into a full-on grin. He took a step toward Derek, dipping his head and leaning forward so that his top of it was pressed against Derek's chest. Then, Derek felt Stiles' hands grip the bottom of his jacket, tugging at it just slightly.

Derek wanted so much to just wrap his arms around Stiles, to pull him in close and never let go. He didn't exactly understand what the boy was doing, but feeling him this close in a way that was awkward, but still strangely and incredibly intimate, there was no way he was going to stop it. Instead, he raised a hand and gently and tenderly placed it on Stiles' arm, squeezing it softly in a way that he hoped was reassuring. He would have tried doing the same with his other hand if he weren't afraid of slipping it around the boy's waist instead.

They stood like that for what felt like ages until Stiles broke the silence.

"…The floor is messy."

Derek scoffed. "That's what happens when you throw batter into the air."

Stiles finally looked back up, moving one of his hands to point a finger in Derek's face. "Hey. You're not even supposed to be in here. I thought Isaac was helping me out, so I'm sorry if that's what happens when an unexpected voice pops up and scares the living shit outta me."

Derek scrunched his face at the colorful idiom. "Gross."

"Since you're here – and especially since this is partly your fault – you can help me clean this up," Stiles grinned smugly.

"What? No way." Derek frowned, taking a step back, his jacket slipping out of Stiles' grip. "I already – literally – gave you the shirt off my back. Why should I clean this up?"

"Because, Derek. Because. If I clean this up myself, not only will there not be any lemony goodness, but there will be no pastries whatsoever."

Derek's face immediately fell into full seriousness. He sighed, exasperated, yet torn. He really should get back to his things and continue studying. But what good is studying if you don't have food to nourish the rest of your body? He frowned, coming to a decision. "What do I clean it up with?"

"Yes! You're awesome!" Stiles cheered before darting around the kitchen to grab some cleaning supplies.

Soon, Derek found himself wiping the mess on the table and the various appliances that got hit, while Stiles gathered more ingredients to remake the spilt batter. The boy was back to whisking away as he watched Derek work.

"There's some over there, too," Stiles pointed out, jutting his chin in the direction of the mess.

The boy merely smiled at the glare Derek was giving him. But, like always, Derek did as he was told, crouching down to wipe the mess clean. Shortly after, he heard the kitchen door swing open.

"Stiles, what's taking so long with the-"

Derek glanced over his shoulder to see Isaac frozen from where he stood in the doorway, his eyes wide and mouth open in surprise. It then occurred to Derek what it might look like seeing Stiles standing before him with Derek on his knees. From where the blonde was standing, he probably couldn't see anything from the top of Derek's head down with the workstation in the way.

"Whoa, hang on! It's not what it looks like!" Derek scrambled to get back on his feet.

"God damn it, Derek. I said not in the kitchen!" The curly-headed boy threw his hands up and stormed back out the way he came in.

Derek buried his face in his hands, mortified. It didn't help that Stiles was just laughing. "Oh man," Stiles choked out. "From where you were, Isaac probably thought you were giving me a blow-"

"Thank you, Captain Obvious!" Derek barked. He tossed the rag he was using to clean at Stiles before stalking out of the kitchen. He could still hear the laughter behind the closed door as he slumped back into his seat and buried his face in his notes, pointedly avoiding making eye contact with the taller barista.

He had to question his sanity. How could he have fallen so hard for this kid who took pleasure in seeing him in his most embarrassing of moments? If anything, it should've made Derek want to steer clear of him, not only because of the inevitable teasing that would ensue, but also because he was clearly a totem for bad luck. The logical thing would be to avoid Stiles at all cost. But when the still chuckling Stiles finally came out of the kitchen to set a plate of freshly baked goods on Derek's table, he had to concede. And when Derek took out his phone later in class, and had to retrain himself from bursting into laughter in seeing the picture he took of a batter-covered Stiles, he had to surrender. Because it wasn't just Stiles who was entertained by the things that happen to Derek; Derek, too, was entertained by all things Stiles. And that made Derek love him all the more.

/\/\/\

The rest of the week went without hitch for Derek. He had delivered the test to Isaac that afternoon, but stared him down in an intimidating way, as if daring him to mention what he thought he had seen that morning, and smirking to himself when it worked. And later that night, he met up with Erica again so they could finish their review and to double check that they didn't miss anything. Stiles didn't show up that time, which she was bummed about because she and Boyd wanted more free cookies. Derek might've also been bummed, but at least this way, he wouldn't have to feel jealous in seeing them be so companionable.

And finally, Friday came; along with all the important tests he'd been studying all semester for. He went in as prepared as he'll ever be. And after hundreds of multiple-choice questions, dozens of short answers and true or false statements, and a handful of short essay questions and three full essay questions, he finally made it through all four of his classes and another semester of school.

It was funny, though. In mythology class, during the exam, the mere mention of Hades brought salt to his mind. Simply reading "The Bride and the Monster" brought the memory of cinnamon. Hell, even glancing at the word Shiva and Vishnu made Derek remember being covered in flour. And he would bet that Erica had recalled the same thing when in the middle of taking the test, the girl giggled loudly.

But once he handed in his answer packet, he was done. Derek was one step closer to reaching his ultimate goal of becoming a Criminologist. All that was left of the semester was to wait for grades to be released in two weeks time.

But until then, he still had a costume party to go to.

/\/\/\

It was about 7 o'clock on the day of the party when Derek got a text from The Bossy Redheaded Girl while he was in the shower.

We ordered food from that place on the corner of Third and Market. We put it under your name so pick it up. And yes, it's already paid for. Oh and can you also pick up some plates? Make them cute. That one you'll have to pay for. Thanks. You're a doll.

He should have known that by letting Allison make his costume for free, Lydia would make him her errand boy. He didn't actually mind, especially since he was used to it, having been his sister's errand boy for most of his childhood. The two were oddly similar.

He finished getting ready, stopped by a store to wonder what made a plate a 'cute' one as opposed to an 'un-cute' one, settled with plain white ones, picked up the food and finally arrived at the girls' apartment with ten minutes to spare.

"Finally," Lydia groaned out, throwing open the door.

Derek blinked. The girl was wearing a black corset with black hot-pants, thigh-high stockings, a necklace with massive pearls and a black curly wig. "Who? What?"

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Really, Derek? You never saw the Rocky Horror Picture Show? It's like a Halloween classic. And Dr. Frank-N-Furter is the best," she finished with a confident smirk. She reached out to take a bag from Derek's hand. Peeking in, she frowned. "Are you serious? Plain white? These are not cute."

"I could draw happy faces on them if you want," he deadpanned. "That might make them cute."

"Funny," she drawled. She looked over her shoulder and waved. "Jackson, come here. Help Derek with the stuff while I finish my make-up. We'll just have to make due with what we've got," she said, looking pointedly back at Derek before she made her way back upstairs to her room.

Derek heard a groan followed by an "All right, all right."

The blonde boy showed up at the door wearing nothing but gold shorts and gold boots. It looked like he had sprayed his hair with something to make it look a shade lighter than it normally was.

Jackson nodded at Derek in greeting. "'Sup Derek."

"Uh, hey. What are you supposed to be?"

"The creature, Rocky Horror," he explained. At Derek's blank look, he shrugged. "It was Lydia's idea. Quite frankly, if she doesn't mind everyone staring at my hotness, then I'm not gonna complain."

Derek scoffed and just shoved the tray of food into the boy's arms before turning around to grab another in his car. Once he brought in the last of it, leaving it for Jackson to set up, Allison appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Oh, Derek! Good! You're here," she smiled. Her costume, Derek instantly recognized. The girl was dressed as Catwoman, the Dark Knight Rises version. "You like it? I made it myself."

Derek had to give it her. The high level of quality she put into her costume was apparent. She was good. It settled some nerves he wouldn't admit he had about what she had made for him. "It's… good."

She placed her hands on her hips and sighed, still smiling. "Coming from you, I bet that's a huge compliment. Come on up," she waved him over. "I have your costume here."

Derek did as he was told and went up the steps to Allison's room, poking his head in.

"Here you go," she said, handing him a bag. "You can change in the bathroom right over there."

Derek peeked in the bag before moving in the direction she pointed to. "So wait, what exactly did you make?"

"Um," she chuckled nervously. "You remember how I said I could use it for my art history project? Well I did. And the concept was artistic interpretation on historic events. And the historic event I chose was the battle of Thermopylae."

"Oh, not bad."

"I know, right? It's an amazing story. The few Greeks versus the many Persians?" She smiled. "Anyway, I decided to make you Spartan costume. Or… Frank Miller's interpretation of it in his comic 300."

If Allison read comics, he could understand why Scott was so smitten with her. Personally, Derek had never heard of this 300 she was talking about. It made him curious about it considering this sort of wince she did when mentioning it. "Okay…"

"You've never seen or read 300 have you?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Okay, well, go ahead and change in there," she said, pointing to the bathroom once more. "I also made you a helmet, a spear, and a shield, so once you've got everything on, just come back to my room and I'll help you get those on."

Derek's eyebrows jumped up in surprise. "You did all that?"

She chuckled nervously again. "Well, I had enough time to. Plus, ancient weaponry is an interest of mine." This time she practically pushed Derek into the bathroom. "If you have any problems, I'll be right outside to help," she said, closing the door behind him.

Derek wondered why she seemed so nervous. Being a Spartan sounded like a great idea. Derek looked into the bag once more before he started pulling things out. In it were a pair of gauntlets for his arms and legs, some sandals, a large piece of red fabric – probably a cloak or something – and a… he didn't even know what to call it.

"Allison?"

"Yes?" came the timid reply.

"Is there a piece missing or something?"

"…Doubt it."

Derek opened the door and held up the unknown garment. "This is a Spartan costume?"

"Yes. A Frank Miller interpretation of it," she repeated. At his blank look, she darted her gaze back to her room. "I still have some pictures I used for reference. Would you like to see them?" She didn't even wait for an answer before going into her room and grabbing it, handing it over to the older boy.

Derek looked at the images and frowned. "Wait. This is what he thinks they wore into a battle? That doesn't even make sense. They'd die instantly from the cold alone!"

Allison exhaled. "Well, that's what the whole thing looks like put together."

"There's hardly anything there. I can see now why you had time to focus on the weapons. The guy's practically naked."

Allison took Derek by the shoulders and ushered him back into the bathroom. "Just go on in and change. I made the bottoms longer than what it looks like in the picture."

"Because an inch or two over the thighs makes a guy feel like he's wearing more than just a speedo," Derek said, dryly.

"Once you have everything on, you'll feel less naked. I promise."

"I doubt that."

"And besides, I doubt you have anything to be ashamed of. People already think you've got the body of a Greek god."

"People? What people?"

"People. Now go change!" She gave him one last shove before closing the door behind him once more.

Derek gave in. Allison had gone through the trouble of making the costume for him so he didn't want to be rude by flat out rejecting it. And it's not like Derek was exactly self-conscious when it came to his body. He'd had his fair share of appreciative looks back in the summertime when Peter had taken him to the Caribbean for vacation. And the more he looked at it, at least he had more coverage than Jackson.

Derek stripped down to his boxer briefs, rolling up his clothes and putting them in the bag the costume came in. And since there was no way he was going commando, he folded the bottoms up as best he could, which was just enough to keep them from sticking out. He slipped on the gauntlets and sandals easily enough, but found himself struggling to pin the cloak on.

"Allison," he called again, walking out of the bathroom and into the girl's room as he tried to snap the pin shut.

"Oh, here. Let me get that," she said, taking the pin in her own hands. Once it was clasped, she adjusted the cloak and the arm gauntlets before she took a step back and smiled. "Just a few more things…" she said, cocking her head to the side.

"Wait, wait, wait what is that thing?" Derek frowned after she had grabbed something from her dresser and made her way over to Derek with a paintbrush in her hand.

"I need to apply the glue to make your beard stick."

"A beard."

"If you're going to be the king, you're going to need his beard."

Derek sighed again, but allowed it. The brush tickled a bit, but the beard itself was just itchy. Allison then slipped a necklace with a tooth for a pendant over his head before picking up his spear and shield and handing it to him.

"And now for the pièce de résistance…" she walked over to him, slipping the helmet over his head. She took a few steps back, hands pressed together and up to her lips. She broke out into a grin. "Oh my God, you look amazing. I really should switch my majors."

Derek glanced at himself in the girl's full-length mirror. If he had known he wasn't going to be wearing a shirt, he might've tried to squeeze in a few extra sit-ups into his work out, but overall he didn't look half bad. At least when compared to the picture, he looked pretty spot on. Now, when compared to what they most likely wore in history… well that was different story.

"Lydia! Come look at Derek!" Allison called.

The girl walked in, a smile breaking across her face once she spotted Derek. "Oh my God, that's perfect. Well done, Allison. I hardly recognize him without his leather jacket and scowl."

Derek did just that, aiming it at the normally redheaded girl.

"Oh wait, there it is," she added, drolly, unfazed by the glare he tossed in her direction. "What? Do you not like it? Because if you don't, we could always just staple a leaf to your crotch and call you Adam."

He gave the girl a withering look. "It's fine." He turned to the brunette, softening his gaze. "Thanks for this. You did a great job," he conceded.

Allison smiled, proudly. "You are very welcome."

"Come on," Lydia said, taking Derek by the wrist. "There's still some food left to set up, and also some lights and speakers."

"I'll put your things in my room," Allison called out as Derek was dragged away.

As the night carried on, Lydia kept finding more and more things for Derek to do. He hardly had any time to really look at the rest of the guests in their costumes, she kept him so busy. But Derek wouldn't complain because busying himself as her gopher meant he didn't have to mingle with all these strangers. He finally caught a few seconds for himself to munch on some eggrolls only to see the apartment was now packed with party-goers.

'I wonder where Stiles is…' Derek thought, glancing over the crowd. He saw Allison dancing with Batman and if that jaw weren't a dead giveaway that it was Scott, then the contented grin on his face was. And if Scott was here already, then so had to be Stiles.

Derek made his way over to the drinks. There, he spotted Jackson talking to a guy in a trench coat, some sunglasses, and a number of hopefully toy guns strapped to his legs and waist. And once the guy smiled, Derek recognized the dimples belonging to Danny.

"Hey Jackson, Danny," Derek nodded before grabbing a cup for himself.

"Jesus Derek, watch where you're pointing that thing," the blonde frowned, swatting at the spear.

"Whoa, wait, Derek?" Danny said incredulously, sliding his shades down.

Derek just nodded before taking a sip of his drink.

"Wow man, I didn't even recognize you! Your costume looks amazing."

"You should tell that to Allison. She made it." Derek looked the Hawaiian boy over. "Who are you supposed to be?"

Danny smiled. "I'm Neo. From the Matrix."

"Oh," he nodded, although he didn't exactly know the reference. "Have either of you seen Stiles? I saw Scott so I think Stiles should be here by now…"

The duo shared a look before turning back to Derek. Danny glanced over the crowd. "Umm… there! He's right over there."

Derek looked over to where Danny was pointing. Stiles was wearing a red and white speed suit, red goggles with yellow lenses, and a wig of messy brown hair. That was probably why he didn't immediately spot the boy. "Thanks," he nodded to the both of them before making his way over.

"Hey."

"Hey- whoa! Awesome costume, King Leonidas! This. Is. SPARTAAAA!"

Derek just looked at him quizzically. Maybe he should watch the movie Allison had mentioned. He took in Stiles' appearance. "Who are you supposed to be?"

"You don't recognize the lightning bolts?" Stiles frowned.

"…Flash?"

"Gah!" He growled, throwing his hands up. "I'm Impulse! Kid Flash. And, well, technically I do become Flash later on…"

Derek just smiled softly. "Well you look good," he complimented, trying not to stare at the way the speed suit clung to Stiles' body.

"Thank you," Stiles smiled. "I was gonna try the Smallville version with the red hood and all but then Lydia complained that it looked too much like street clothes and you know Lydia, obviously, cause you're here."

That last bit was a little odd, but maybe Derek just heard wrong. The music was loud and his helmet was doing a good job of stifling a bit of the noise. He thought nothing of it as he was soon distracted by the way Stiles kept glancing over the crowd. Derek tried to follow his gaze but didn't see anything of interest. "You… looking for something?"

"Hm?" Stiles seemed to have forgotten Derek was there. "Oh, yeah. Um, my friend. He said he was gonna be here, but I haven't seen him yet."

"Maybe he's in costume."

"Ha ha," Stiles smiled, looking at Derek sideways. "I don't know. I think maybe he just decided not to come after all."

Derek frowned. "You sound disappointed."

Stiles shrugged. "I guess I am a little. I was really hoping to see him."

Derek's frown only deepened. "Now you sound really disappointed."

He laughed. "Well, no. I mean, yeah, but I understand why he bailed. He's not the most social butterfly if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I definitely get that."

"Yeah? You don't seem to be doing so bad. This guy, I call him Sourwolf cause he always has this sour expression on his face and cause he's like ridiculously obsessed with lemons and he's also like this lone wolf type of person," he laughed again.

Derek furrowed his brows, looking at Stiles, confused.

"But it's a shame cause he's actually this really good guy… amazing, really," he continued, voice wistful. "Like, a downright puppy if you ask me. Oh, but don't tell him I said that cause then he'll give me like this glare of doom he's trademarked or something."

'Is… is he talking about me?' Derek wondered, completely perplexed.

"And then when he smiles…" Stiles continued on, his words soft, his gaze far away. "It's like the best thing ever. Like the sun, it's so bright and warm and…" he sighed.

'Does he not know it's me? Could he be talking about me?' Derek thought, his heart suddenly speeding up. "Stiles, I-"

"Oh! That's him! He's here! He came!" And without even the slightest look back, Stiles dashed off into the crowd, throwing his arms around the guy he'd been looking for.

Derek felt like his heart had been stomped on. He tore his eyes away from the sight. He couldn't stand to see Stiles smiling so brightly at some guy that wasn't him. 'I swear, it was like he was talking about me. Sourwolf… that's our thing… right?' Derek stumbled backwards a bit, steadying himself against the wall. 'What if it wasn't? I mean, how could it not be? I bought him the wolf for crying out loud! But… but if he named it after someone else… then that Sourwolf is his real protector… and I'm…'

He shut his eyes, the beat of the music thumping in his ears. 'The way he spoke… I've never heard him talk like that before…' Glancing up, his eyes fell back on Stiles. The boy had his hands on the guy's shoulders. He was laughing.

Derek pushed himself up off the wall and squeezed through the party guests to get outside. He needed the air. He needed to get away. He took a seat on the stoop, leaning his spear against the steps as he buried his face in his hands, or at least as best he could with the helmet still on. Derek would have bet anything in the world that he was who Stiles was talking about. And while Stiles had been saying what he had, Derek couldn't help but get happy and excited because to him, it sounded like the boy was in love.

'So then why did he jump on that other guy? Who the hell was that guy?' Derek was crushed. He had gone from feeling elated to feeling like he'd been stabbed in the gut in a matter of seconds. It made Derek feel ready to put his spear into good use on the stranger. But then he tried to remember what he had already accepted. He had decided to be there for Stiles no matter what. And if Stiles fell for someone else, he'd still be there. He just didn't feel like being there now. He felt himself going back into his dark place and he couldn't let anyone see him go there. He was ready to leave.

Derek suddenly found his helmet stifling. He was done with the party. Over it. He needed to get out of here and think things through in the solitude of his own home. 'I've been here almost two hours now anyway… I think that's plenty long enough… and if Lydia needs anymore help, she's got a room full of friends that can do it for her.'

He stood back up, picked up his spear before going back inside and making his way up the stairs and into Allison's room. 'Where did she put that bag?' He looked around the room, tossing aside his spear and pulling the shield off his arm. He was about to yank off his helmet when another person burst into the room.

"Excuse me, I don't think you should be up here."

Derek looked over his shoulder to see Jack Sparrow looking back at him, crossly. Derek took in the lanky frame and the blonde curls poking out from under the wig and realized it was Isaac.

"I'm just gonna get my stuff and go."

"Okay, what stuff do you think you have up here, huh? Look, I'm a very good friend of this girl's boyfriend and he'll literally claw you to shreds if he finds out you're snooping through his girlfriend's stuff."

Derek exhaled deeply in frustration. "Isaac, relax. Allison put my stuff somewhere. I'm just gonna change back and get out of here."

The boy narrowed his eyes, brows furrowing in confusion. "Do I… know you?"

Derek rolled his eyes and pulled off the helmet while simultaneously stripping himself of the scratchy beard.

"Holy shit, Derek." Isaac said, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "God, man, I did not recognize you."

"Well, here I am. You gonna help me find my clothes?"

"Yeah sure," he nodded, making his way in the room. "But… why are you leaving now?"

"I've been here long enough. I'm done."

Isaac looked curious, but didn't push. "Well, did you at least see Stiles? He was looking for you earlier."

Derek shut his eyes and bit his lip. "Yeah, I saw him. He was busy looking for someone else."

Isaac scoffed. "What are you talking about, man? Stiles has been looking for you all night. I swear, it looked like he was gonna cry when he thought you decided not to show up."

"What are you talking about, man?" Derek mocked. "I saw him. He saw me. We had a conversation about some guy who smiles like the fucking sun and then he ran off to hug him once he saw him across the room." Derek winced at the hostility in his own voice. He knew he shouldn't be taking out his frustration on Isaac. But he was getting angry and he needed to get out now.

It took a second for the blonde to register what Derek had said. Then he shook his head. "No. No, I saw that. That guy Stiles jumped on, it was some kid from Lydia's bio class. Once Stiles figured that out, he was laughing and apologizing like crazy. Said he thought the guy was someone else." Isaac suddenly started laughing. "That guy was dressed as Danny Zuko from Grease. It was no wonder Stiles thought it was you."

Derek was not amused. He was also not convinced. His expression made it clear.

"Look," Isaac said. "You can ask Scott. He was with me when we saw it happen."

"No. I'm going home."

"Derek, come on. Just ask Scott. He'll tell you what I told you. And if you still don't like what you hear, I will personally dig through this room to find your clothes and hand it to you myself."

Derek just growled out another sigh. He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

Isaac followed Derek out of the room and down the stairs. Derek looked over the crowd and saw Batman munching happily on a chicken wing. He started to make his way over to ask him about what Isaac had said, but stopped, spinning back around when Stiles had beat him to him.

"Derek, what-" Isaac frowned.

"Shut up," Derek hissed. He was not ready to face the boy. Not with his emotions on the brink of turmoil.

"He didn't come!" he heard Stiles whine. Derek peeked over his shoulder, spying on the two. "He said he was gonna come, but he didn't come!"

"Dude, he's here. Allison went through the trouble of making him a costume. And you're here. Of course he's here."

"No, no. I've been looking around allllllll night. And I thought I saw him, but it turned out it was just Kyle."

Scott laughed. "Yeah, I saw that. That was hilarious. You really think Allison made the guy a leather jacket? He's already got like twelve of them."

"Three, okay?"

Scott snorted. "Of course you would know."

'It's actually four, but that's beside the point…' Derek thought, before telling himself to shut up.

"Okay, look," Scott said, tossing an arm around his friend. Derek snapped his head back around, hiding his face, only to find himself looking at an overly amused pirate. "Let's see… oh there. See, he's right there with Isaac."

"Who, that guy? No, that's not him. I talked to that guy earlier."

"Then you were talking to Derek. Look, I recognize that cape. I was playing with it when Allison was making it." Derek had to snort at that. "Watch. Mr. Hale! Yo, Mr. Hale!"

Derek glanced at Isaac who was merely stifling a smile while giving him a look as if to say 'now what are you gonna do?' Derek turned around, slowly, facing the two friends he had been eavesdropping on.

He watched as Stiles' face went from confusion to recognition to shock. "Derek?"

He raised his hand and gave him a short wave. "Hey Stiles." Derek lurched forward as Isaac shoved him towards the boy. He glared at the smug guy from over his shoulder.

Stiles made his way over, closing the distance. "You're… you're King Leonidas? I didn't… I didn't even recognize you!"

Derek nodded slowly. "I… seem to be getting that a lot tonight…" He ran a hand through his hair. The anger he was feeling just minutes ago was beginning to settle down. "So… Isaac said you were looking for me…"

Despite the low lighting, he could clearly see the blush on the boy's cheeks as he ducked his head and started rubbing the back of his neck.

Derek continued. "And I guess… since you didn't recognize me… maybe you said it yourself that you were looking… for me."

Stiles looked back up at Derek, chuckling nervously.

Derek pressed on some more, his earlier frustration weaning away. "A puppy, Stiles?" He cocked an eyebrow, fixing him with a deadpan expression.

"Hey now, puppies are awesome."

"Amazing, really?" He teased, repeating the boy's own words. Frustration gone, it was now dawning on him that Stiles had been talking about him.

"Did you try these eggrolls? They're fantastic!" He said, making his way over to the food and taking a big and messy bite.

Derek couldn't help but smile. Then he remembered what Stiles said about his smile and it only made him smile even more.

As Stiles rambled on while shoving food in his mouth, all the while trying to distract Derek from what he had said earlier, Derek found himself having a hard time concentrating. 'He was talking about me. He thinks I'm amazing. He thinks my smile is like the sun!' Said smile didn't seem like it'd be able to go away.

The rest of the night was perfect now that Derek had Stiles by his side, his earlier desire to leave dissipating with every second next to him. The food tasted better, the drinks tasted sweeter, the music sounded heavenly, and even the crowded room felt like the best place to be. He didn't even mind when Lydia had found him again and asked him to restock the beverages.

And all the while, Stiles was right by him. He was no longer looking out into the room. His eyes were on Derek. His attention was all on Derek. And Derek couldn't help but replay in his mind what Stiles had said when he thought he was someone else. And while the words were hardly a confession of love, the tone of it made it seem like a real possibility. It made Derek forget all about any other guy or girl Derek thought Stiles might end up with. Because now, after this night, Derek had hope that that special person just might be him.

And finally, into the wee hours of the morning, after the party guests had gone home and all that was left were the core few to help clean up a bit and sober up before heading to their own homes, Stiles was still by his side.

They had slipped away, taking a seat next to each other on the stoop just outside, the night sky lit just a hair with the impending sunrise a little over an hour away. Stiles leaned into Derek, taking comfort in his warmth while Derek leaned into Stiles, taking comfort in his proximity.

Stiles fiddled with the straps on his shoes. "It was a good party, huh?"

"Parts of it."

Stiles chuckled. "Lydia sure kept you busy…"

"I didn't mind. She reminds me of Laura."

"You know? I thought so, too!" He glanced over his friend. "Geez, aren't you cold?"

Derek looked down. He should be considering he was half naked, sitting outside in the middle of winter, but all he felt in the moment was warm. "Actually, this cloak is pretty thick. I think maybe Allison planned it that way."

"She did a really good job. Here," he said, pulling out his phone.

"Where the heck did you stash that?"

Stiles laughed. "I have pockets," he explained, tapping away at the device. "Let's take a picture." Stiles held it up, pointing the camera at them. "Say cheese."

Derek snorted, a small smile playing on his lips as he glanced at the boy next to him.

Stiles flipped his phone back around to look at the screen. "Derek, you moved! And you were supposed to smile," he frowned.

"I thought I was just supposed to say 'cheese'."

Stiles bumped him. "Behave!" He held out his arm again.

Derek behaved and looked at the camera on the phone, smiling just as Stiles had asked.

Stiles looked over the picture, smiling contently. "There you go. Much better. You should smile more, Derek. Or, as Allison would say: Don't frown. Someone could be falling in love with your smile."

Derek looked at Stiles from the corner of his eye and smiled to himself. He had a pretty good idea who that someone just might be.

Notes: Notes, notes, notes. Okay.

HBIC: Head Bitch in Charge. Cause Erica fancies herself a badass. You know, Erica (and Boyd by association) weren't really going to be in here beyond that first appearance because I didn't know what was going to happen to them on the show. And also cause I might've been a bit miffed at how they abandoned poor Derek, haha. It's okay, Derek! You've still got Isaac!

Stiles' studying technique is actually a thing. People really do that. I mean, maybe not with food, but with images.

The song, by the way, was James Blunt's "You're Beautiful." Tis a sad song. I don't particularly like the song, but I thought it fitting because I too want to throw my radio across the room when I hear it.

And the costumes. I actually love the idea of Lydia dressed as Dr. Frank-N-Futer with Jackson as Rocky Horror. And I thought Allison would make a perfect Catwoman which of course meant Scott would definitely be her Batman. And for Danny, I thought it was funny cause Keahu was Keanu. And I don't know why, but I thought it would be funny to have a Jack Sparrow walking around. At first I thought Stiles could be Jack, but then I pictured Isaac as him and that was it. No one else could be Jack after that. And of course Derek is King Leonidus. He was gonna be something else, but then I thought it would be funny if all Allison made for him was a loincloth or something and Derek would be all 'Allison? Where's the rest of it?' But I thought this was something that Derek might actually agree to since it's technically history related, and especially if he had the cloak to sort of cover himself up with (also I thought it would make him even less recognizable if he basically had no clothes on, haha). Stiles was actually the hardest one to choose for. At first he was going to be Luke Skywalker, but I passed on that. I considered Little Red Riding Hood, but logically, why would Stiles dress up as that? I mean, he did do the drag thing, but that was on drag night at a gay bar on a dare. So I thought of something red and thought of the Flash. But since I'm a big fan of Smallville, I thought Impulse would be better because not only is Stiles hyperactive, he's also impulsive. And then I saw a picture of Smallville's version of Bart Allen in his hero outfit and it had a red hood on and I just thought 'that's the one.' Plus, it meant Stiles was in a super clingy outfit, something I thought Derek would appreciate since he was practically naked for Stiles.

Oh and I forgot to mention last time for those who haven't read it yet or those who might be interested in it the Extra I wrote for chapter 13, at the Stilinski house from Stiles' POV. Someone else asked to see something else, so I'm working on that too.

Also, thank you for the reviews. They entertain me and keep me moving forward with this story. I said this to someone else already, but I thought it worth admitting. The reviews make me happy because I get to see your reactions to what I'm writing. If there are no reviews, then I don't get to see the reactions and then I don't think anyone's reading so then I become less motivated to continue writing out a story that's already in my head. But because you like it and I can see that there's an audience for it, I keep writing out more. So thanks. Thanks for keeping the story alive.