Baking My Way Into Your Heart – Interference Part I

"I told you. I don't know yet."

"Then, when will you know?"

Derek sighed. "They said grades would be out in two weeks. So probably next Friday."

Peter groaned over the line. "Fine. In the mean time, have you given any thought about where we're going while you're on break?"

Derek hesitated, knowing that Peter would instantly figure out the real reason behind his decision. "Actually… I thought about it… and I think it might be good for a change if I stay here for the break. Maybe take an intercession class."

"Oh realllllly," Peter sang, amused.

"Yeah. I mean, I think I might even be able to squeeze two classes in, if I really work hard-"

"Okay, you can just stop right there. You and I both know you just want to stay to be with your new boy toy."

Derek exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could practically feel the grin on his uncle's face through the phone line.

"I like Stiles," Peter said simply. "Let's bring him along."

"Can't," Derek sighed, giving up his ruse. "He's got work."

Peter was quiet for a moment. Then, "Where does he work? We can just buy the business and then let him off for vacation. I was thinking the south Pacific is beautiful this time of year."

"Hm," Derek hummed, considering the option. He liked the sound of that. Going to Tahiti with Stiles, drinking from coconuts with little umbrellas with Stiles, swimming in crystal blue waters with Stiles, strolling along sandy white beaches with the moonlight kissing their skin and the waves licking their feet as they kiss and lick each other. 'Yeah...' Derek was grinning dreamily at the thought.

"Derek," Peter barked, snapping his nephew out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"Send me the info on the business. I'll call the owner right now and we'll be in Fiji on Wednesday."

"I was leaning more towards Tahiti."

"Ooh, with the sexy dancers with the fast hips. I like your style, baby boy."

"Stop calling me that."

"You're my adorable nephew. I will never stop calling you that."

"So Tahiti," Derek growled.

"Yes, yes. Find the owner's number and I'll get cracking on that."

"On a Sunday?"

"Good business never needs weekends."

Derek shrugged. If it meant getting to go to a tropical island with Stiles… 'Wait.' Derek frowned. Buying a business just to get to go on vacation with him? Wasn't that a bit much? "Peter. Buying a business just so I can go on vacation with Stiles? Isn't that a bit much?"

"No way," Peter scoffed, as if the notion was insulting. "So how should we do this? Tell him straight up or just kidnap him and don't remove the mask until we're sipping Mai-Tais?"

"For the last time, Peter, that wasn't funny. I broke that guy's nose."

"That was the funny part!"

It seemed Derek needed to be the rational one here. "No, no. Forget it. As much as I want to spend the break with Stiles in a place where he can walk around half-naked all day, I think buying the business just to do that is a little… over-the-top."

He heard Peter groan again. "Nephew, you're getting soft. Can you at least tell me that you've tapped that by now?"

"…No," at the sound of Peter groaning once more, he quickly added, "-but I think I stand a real good chance. I mean, he didn't directly say he likes me, but I'm pretty sure he does."

"What are you even talking about? Of course he likes you! He sat through a dinner with Laura and me. If anyone can walk out of that unscathed, there's definite pining for your penis involved."

"Damn it, Peter," Derek scowled. "How are we even related?"

"I ask myself that more and more with each day you haven't boned the little baker boy."

Derek huffed. "Look, just because I'm not some creepy old perv like someone, doesn't mean I'm not thinking of some way to make this happen."

"Okay, first of all. Your words hurt. I'm not old," Derek scoffed at this. "And second of all, what's the plan?"

"Like I said before. I need to be sure that he's really into me, at least in the same way I'm into him. So, I'm gonna figure out a way to get him to admit it. And then, when he finally confesses his undying love for me, then I will take him to my bed and never let him wear clothes again."

"That's more like it. You're a Hale after all."

"I just need to talk to him. Maybe see if he lets off any hints. I'll be ten times more observant than I have been."

"So then what are you doing sitting at home talking on the phone with your uncle? I know I'm incredible and everything you wish to be, Derek, but I think you need to get your priorities in check. How can you observe him if you're not even spending time with him?"

"Christ, Peter. Get a handle on your modesty, why don't you?" Derek drawled. "I'm going to his place this afternoon. I'm helping him bake some cookies for Danny."

"By 'helping him bake' I hope you mean 'fucking,' by 'some cookies' I hope you mean 'that tight ass,' and by Danny, I hope that's just a weird nickname you've given the blue balls you must've developed by not doing a damn thing by now."

"I'm hanging up now."

"Love you, Derek! Keep me updated! Call me as soon as your grades are in or when you finally man up and take that tight little nugget-"

"You're creepy and disturbing and I'm hanging up! Bye Peter, I love you too."

The call was ended before Peter could utter another unsettling syllable.

It's true. Derek had done a bit of light research for tips on how to know whether or not a guy was into you. He figured with these tips in mind, he'd know without a single solitary doubt whether or not Stiles was in love with him. And if he was, Derek had a secondary plan in which he would let his lips say everything for him, as he tasted every inch of Stiles' pale skin. But if he wasn't, he had plotted out an emergency strategy that involved hiding in a darkened corner for about a week under the pretense of getting minor dental surgery, whilst really blocking out the pain of his broken heart to try to restore it to a place where he could tolerate being by Stiles without feeling the effects of utter rejection.

Yeah. Derek really hoped he didn't need that emergency strategy.

After the costume party, Stiles had managed to enlist Derek's help for later in the day to renew his job as his own personal shelling squirrel. Derek, of course, had agreed before the two went their separate ways to at least try to get in a few hours of sleep. And once Derek had woken up later that morning, he started his research. And if all went well, he was sure that he'd be sharing kisses with Stiles during the holiday season without the need for mistletoe. However, he also kept in mind that mistletoe was still a valid option should things not go as planned.

So, later at Stiles' apartment, instead of walnuts, Derek was tasked with opening pistachios. He snuck a few of them, popping them in his mouth when Stiles wasn't looking. Apparently, Danny had requested some dark chocolate-pistachio cookies from Stiles, and Stiles gladly obliged. So Derek had no problem eating as many pistachios he wanted from the pile. The less Danny got meant maybe the Hawaiian would be less eager to approach Stiles again and that suited Derek just fine.

"Stop that!" Stiles frowned, swatting at Derek's hands. "I know you're eating more than you're opening!"

Derek scoffed. "You can't know that."

Stiles stared at him blankly. "Derek. Look at the pile of shells. Then look at the pile of pistachios. The ratio is severely off."

Derek just shrugged. "That could just mean most of these shells are empty. Maybe you should just find a better place to buy your pistachios."

"Or next time, I'll just make sure you're too full to eat them by making sure you've had lunch first."

He rolled his eyes. "Like that would stop me." He popped another pistachio in his mouth.

"Derek! Stop it already!"

Eventually, Stiles had enough pistachios he needed to make the cookies. He was just about to show Derek how make the cookie dough when he stopped suddenly.

Derek looked to his friend. "What?"

"We have to take preemptive measures," Stiles said, stroking his chin. "Follow me."

Derek frowned in confusion, but followed nonetheless. Stiles led him into his bedroom as Derek watched him go to his dresser. Then he understood with a chuckle. "I see."

"I should probably just get you your own apron," Stiles smirked, tossing a shirt to Derek. "That one should fit. I got a bigger size as you wished. Besides," Stiles added, "this way, you're just messing up the spare shirt and you can go home in the one you came in."

"How very intuitive of you."

"Well, you never know," he shrugged. "For some reason, you keep attracting messes."

Derek rolled his eyes and pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside before sliding into the one Stiles handed to him. It was still a bit tighter than he liked, but at least it was a better fit than the previous ones. He glanced down. "Really, Stiles?"

"What?" he said, stifling a grin.

He read the bright red words on the dark blue shirt. "'I'm Just A Love Machine?'"

"And I won't work for nobody but you, yeah baby!" Stiles danced.

Although he was amused, Derek wasn't amused.

"Okay, okay. Here," Stiles said, tossing him a different shirt. "Try this one."

Derek didn't move. He just stared at the fabric in his hands. "Stiles, this is pink."

"You never specified what color you preferred," he smirked.

"Forget it," Derek rolled his eyes, stripping once more and tossing both shirts back to Stiles. "Where's the shirt I gave you the other day? When you threw the batter on yourself?"

"I did not throw the batter on myself," he scowled, shaking his head. "Anyway, no. That shirt is comfy and I have decided to keep it for myself."

Derek frowned. He liked that shirt. It really was comfortable. "Stiles-"

"So what'll it be? Pink? Or Love Machine?" He held them up, one in each hand, extending them out to the older boy. The look on the Stiles' face made it clear there was no arguing. Derek sighed and grabbed the blue one before slipping it back over his head. "Excellent choice, Jeeves. Although, personally, I think the pink would've looked just as nice," Stiles shrugged.

Derek just rolled his eyes before turning around to fold his original shirt and leave it on Stiles' bed. That's when he spotted a guitar in the corner of the boy's room that he hadn't noticed before. He looked back over his shoulder at Stiles. "You play?" he asked, nodding to the guitar.

"Hm?" he glanced at Derek after folding the pink shirt and putting it back in the dresser. He followed the older boy's gaze and shook his head. "Oh, no. No, no, no. Not really."

Derek cocked an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'not really'?"

"That's Scott's guitar. Him and Isaac like to mess around with music. They're actually pretty good. They're good enough to get invited by Scott's boss to play for some event they're having, 'Carols for Kittens' or something," he snickered. "And they needed someone else to play a bit of back-up so Scott's trying to teach me in time for the show. Hey! You should totally come!"

'And see Stiles play music on stage? Where do I sign up?' Derek thought to himself. "Yeah, sure," he nodded. "When is it?"

"It's in three weeks. Here," Stiles stepped forward, ignoring Derek's personal space and reached into the pocket of the older boy's jeans to pull out his phone.

"Wha-Stiles!" Derek stammered, flustered. The wandering hand was dangerously close to Derek's crotch, warm as it pressed against his thigh, the thin lining of his pocket the only barrier between skin on skin. Stiles was unfazed. As he tapped through some menus on the cell, Derek took a moment to regain himself, to urge away the effect of Stiles' action before it made itself known through his jeans.

"There," Stiles grinned, showing Derek the screen and shaking it. Derek had to silently breathe a sigh of relief and applaud himself for his self-control as he calmly took the phone into his hand, looking at the addition to his calendar. "Now you'll be reminded and you'll go and we'll save some kittens and have a good time."

Derek just nodded, not really trusting his voice at the moment. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, taking a second to dig his nails into his thigh to distract his body from the brief contact of pleasure with a bit of pain. It worked.

Stiles, all the while, was none the wiser of the turmoil his minor act had caused his friend. He just smiled at him. "Do you play any instruments?"

"I-um," Derek cleared his throat. "Not really."

This time it was Stiles who cocked at eyebrow. He mirrored Derek's question. "What do you mean 'not really'?"

"My dad tried to teach me guitar. He had this one song he always played for my mom and he taught it to me, but that was a long time ago. I don't know if I could still play it."

Stiles just nodded. "You should try some time. In the mean time," he grinned, taking Derek by the shoulders and leading him out the door. "We've got some cookies to bake."

Once they were back in the kitchen, Stiles began mixing the ingredients as Derek watched. Every so often, he would hand him an ingredient to toss into the mix and soon enough, they were reaching into the bowl to place some dough onto a cookie sheet.

"No, Derek," Stiles chided, picking up a piece Derek had simply schlepped on and fixing it. "You can't just throw them on. If it's too crowded, they'll stick together."

Derek just scoffed, taking another handful and tossing it onto the pan.

"Derek, no," Stiles scolded. "Those are too big. They won't cook evenly with the others- Derek. No. Those are too close to the edge! You know what? It's okay," he patted the older boy on the shoulder. "I can take it from here. You just watch, okay?"

Derek smiled smugly to himself as he walked around the kitchen to sit at the counter. He didn't want to play nice if the cookies weren't even for him. He wiped his hands on a towel. "You got anything to drink?" He asked. All those pistachios he had earlier made him thirsty.

"Yeah. There's some bottled water in the fridge. There's juice there too, if you want. Help yourself."

Derek quickly rinsed off his hands in the sink and grabbed a glass from the cabinet, pouring himself some apple juice. "So, any plans for the break? I was thinking of taking a class for intercession but…" Derek trailed off as Stiles stared at the cookie dough in his hands, face contorted in contemplation. "Stiles?"

He looked up at Derek, eyebrows furrowed. "I forgot. How could I forget? We planned it all summer!"

"Um."

Stiles looked down and put the cookie dough onto the sheet. "The guys and I- I mean, all of us – Lydia and Allison and Danny and Jackson, even Greenburg – we all planned this trip together. Everyone took a few days off work so we could all go together to Bear Valley."

"Oh…" Derek frowned, slumping in his seat, taking a swig of his juice.

Stiles glanced up. "I mean, it sounded fun back then… but now… it sounds kinda lame…"

Derek slowly sat back up.

"I can just skip it. The snow is cold anyway. Oh, but the concert…"

"Concert?"

"Yeah, Scott and I got these tickets to some concert he was so stoked about… but now I can't even remember who we were going to see." Stiles shrugged. "I guess I could just give my ticket to Isaac… I'm sure he wouldn't mind going with Scott."

Derek studied Stiles. If he just listened to what he was saying, it seemed like Stiles really had no problem skipping the trip. But the tone of his voice and his body language and the way his eyes were now trained on the cookie dough he continued to set down said otherwise. As much as he wanted Stiles to stay, he didn't want him to miss out on a trip he really wanted to go on.

Derek frowned. 'This is going to put a hitch in my plans…' But he conceded, picking up the towel once more to meticulously clean off his hands. "I don't know," he said slowly. "It sounds like it could be fun to me."

"Yeah?" Stiles asked, looking back up.

"Definitely. I think you should go. Stock up on fun so that I don't feel bad when I go on vacation with Peter."

"Oh? You're going somewhere with Peter?"

Derek nodded. "Yeah, every year during winter and summer break, Peter kidnaps me and takes me somewhere. I think he was planning on Fiji or Tahiti this year," he shrugged nonchalantly. "So, yeah. You should definitely go." He finally looked Stiles in the eye, setting down the towel, smiling encouragingly at him.

Slowly, Stiles began to nod. "O…okay. It won't be too bad. It's just a few days." He brightened. "Hey, maybe if wanted, you could come too! I mean, the house we rented is small, but maybe we could squeeze you in somewhere or maybe you could stay at a hotel if you really wanted, but you could come up with us."

Derek did want that. But he didn't want to intrude on their trip. He shook his head. "It's okay. Have fun with your friends."

"Just think about it, okay?"

He sighed. "I will think about it."

Stiles smiled. "Good. And now," he placed one last bit of dough on the sheet before picking the whole pan up. "Just throw these in the oven and in 20 minutes of low and slow, Danny's cookies will be complete." Stiles placed the sheet on the rack and shut the oven before placing his hands on his hips and frowning.

"What?" Derek asked.

"I'm just… surprised is all."

"With what?"

"Well my dad always told me that one's incident, two's coincidence, and three's a pattern."

"Stiles, what are you talking about?"

"Your shirt. It didn't get messy this time. And whenever you and I have been in a kitchen together, your shirt got messy," he smirked mischievously before scooping some leftover dough into his hand.

Derek's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing." It wasn't a question. He could figure out by the evil little grin the boy was donning where this was going. He just couldn't believe it was going there.

"Derek, we don't want to break the pattern. It could disrupt the space-time continuum," he said, matter-of-factly.

"I don't think it works that way," Derek frowned, slowly getting to his feet.

"Well, I don't think we want to chance it, do we Mr. Hale?" Stiles to a step forward, forcing Derek to take an abrupt step back, knocking over the stool he'd been sitting on.

"Stiles, stop it," Derek growled, hand up as if to stop the boy from coming any closer. "You know, you got messy too," he tried, reaching over the counter to grab his half-empty glass of juice. "I think the continuum would be just fine if you got messy instead," he said, voice filled with warning.

"That was a fluke," Stiles rationalized, taking a small step back of his own.

Derek smirked. "Let's test your theory then, eh?" And with that, Derek leapt for Stiles, trying to wrap his arm around the boy's waist, but Stiles was fast, easily slipping away.

"Derek, I was joking!"

He snorted. "Yeah right. Stiles, I know you."

"Okay, fine," Stiles said, holding up his hand free of cookie dough. "But you're right. If the universe wanted you to get messy, you'd be messy."

Derek relaxed some, bringing the glass back down. "Good."

"Yes. Good."

And in a flash, the mischievous grin was back as Stiles threw the dough in his hands in Derek's direction. With lightning-fast reflexes, Derek ducked, looking over his shoulder at where the mess had landed before looking back at the laughing boy.

"Stiles!"

He ran after the boy, doing his best not to spill the juice still in his hands. They circled the couch, Stiles' shirt always just a few centimeters from Derek's grasp.

"Derek, don't spill that!" he called over his shoulder. "It'll look like a pee stain on our carpet!"

"You brought this on yourself."

Stiles tried to duck into the hall where his room was, but Derek blocked the way. Slipping out of his grasp yet again, Stiles made his way towards the living room, but when Derek blocked him yet again, he found himself cornered in the kitchen.

"Okay, okay," he panted. "Look, I missed-"

Derek wasn't having any of it. Stiles was not going to talk his way out of this one. Derek rushed up to the boy, finally getting an arm around him so he wouldn't get away.

"No, no, n-"

In sweet, sweet revenge, Derek poured the glass of juice down the front of Stiles' shirt, smirking in triumph when the glass had been emptied. Stiles gasped as the cold liquid traveled down his skin. He glanced down at his ruined shirt before looking back up at Derek, a scandalized expression on his face.

"You know," Derek shrugged, "you always have that pink shirt you can change into."

Stiles frowned, exhaling heavily through his nose. And in a flash, he brought his hand up, still caked in a bit of the cookie dough, and smeared it all across the side of Derek's face.

Derek gasped in surprise, eyes going wide as he felt the little pricks of the pistachio bits graze his skin. His eyes darted over to the open bag of flour still on the counter. He snatched it.

"Wait, no-" Stiles tried, putting his hands back up to shield himself from Derek, but it was no good. Derek took a handful of the white powder and tossed it in Stiles' direction. The boy looked down at his shirt, sticky from the juice and now caked with flour.

Derek saw the way Stiles' eyes darted towards the eggs. "Stiles, don't," he warned. Stiles made a move for it, but Derek tackled him down. He was wrestling with the struggling boy, trying to pin him down, but Stiles managed to sit up and grab the egg he was looking for. He smashed it against Derek's chest, laughing as he spread the gooey mess across the now ruined shirt. The space-time continuum was safe.

Derek wrestled some more until he was straddling the boy. He reached up for an egg of his own to smash against Stiles' head. The moment of distraction was enough for Stiles to grab the bag of flour from his hand, grabbing a handful to toss on Derek as the egg was smeared over his hair. The two of them both reached into the bag of flour tossing handfuls at one another, laughing like children in their moment of immaturity. Derek managed to wrangle the bag away from Stiles, dumping the last remnants of flour onto the boy under him. Stiles sputtered, trying his best to wipe his mouth with messy hands. Derek just laughed. Stiles looked ridiculous, although he was sure he didn't fair very well either.

"Are we interrupting something?"

Both boys darted their heads in the direction of the voice. They were surprised to see both Scott and Isaac leaning over the counter looking at them in utter amusement.

"If you guys are done with the foreplay," Scott grinned, "Stiles, we're supposed to be practicing for the benefit. If you remember."

"Oh, right," Stiles blinked, trying to sit up as best he could with Derek still in his lap.

"Really, Derek? 'I'm Just A Love Machine'?" Isaac read the shirt.

"It's-uh, it's Stiles' shirt," he tried lamely, scrambling to stand up. He held a hand out to the boy, helping Stiles to his feet. He shook his head, trying his best to shake off the excess flour Stiles had tossed on him. Stiles mirrored the action as a cloud of white powder floated to the messy kitchen floor. Derek spared a glance at Stiles and couldn't help but snicker. "You've got egg shell…" he fought the smile daring to emerge as he picked off shell bits from Stiles' hair.

"There's some pistachio on your…" Stiles smiled in return, doing his best to wipe the mess still on Derek's cheek.

They couldn't hold it in any longer. They burst into laughter, dying of amusement from taking in each other's appearance and remembering the ridiculousness that made it so.

"Should we just reschedule for a later time?" Scott said, smugly.

"No, no. It's fine," Stiles breathed. "Oh, but the cookies." He turned to messy partner in crime. "Derek, do you think you could drop off the cookies for me? Pleaaaaase?"

Derek pretended to contemplate the matter. Of course he'd drop them off if Stiles asked him to. There was very little he wouldn't do for him. But he could still pretend that he didn't bow to his every whim.

"I'll make you some lemon Jello?" Stiles added, trying to win him over.

Derek cocked an eyebrow at that, intrigued.

"I'll even make them look cool. Like they're actual lemon wedges, but they're not cause they're really Jello."

"You can do that?"

"For you, Sourwolf, I can do anything."

Derek furrowed his brows. "Is that another movie reference I don't get?"

Stiles just snickered before taking Derek by the shoulders once more and leading him towards the bathroom. He looked to Scott and Isaac. "Clean this up, will ya?" he smirked, waving his finger over the mess on the kitchen floor.

Scott scoffed, frowning at his friend. "What? You guys made the mess. Why don't you clean it?"

"Cause I'm making you both dinner," Stiles retorted, ending the argument.

They entered the bathroom, Stiles tossing a towel to Derek so he could clean up his arms and his face. Stiles on the other hand stepped into the shower and began brushing himself off. "You wanna stay?" he asked, wiping down his jeans. "It's spaghetti night."

'Tempting…' Derek thought. "Ah, no thanks," he said, wetting the towel. "There's something I need to take care of… some research I need to do."

"Research?" Stiles frowned, pausing. "School's out, Derek. What more research do you need to do?"

"It's-uh, personal research. Boring, really," he lied.

"Well, all right," he shrugged, grabbing his shower curtain and pulling it closed.

Derek froze, towel pressed firmly against his cheek. He heard some rustling before the shirt Stiles had been wearing tumbled over the curtain rod. Derek just stared at it through its reflection in the mirror.

"Stiles… what are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he said, dully. Soon, a pair of jeans came tumbling over, meeting the shirt on the bathroom floor, followed by two socks.

Derek's eyes widened, realizing that just behind the shower curtain was Stiles, wearing nothing but his boxers. Or briefs. Or maybe neither… he could be going commando. The thought made Derek's pulse race.

It was quiet for a moment. Then, "Do you wanna join me?"

Derek thought he might faint right there, a layer of cookie dough on his cheek and flour still stuck to his arms.

But then he heard some snickering coming from behind the curtain, and it was clear that Stiles was just messing with him. "Ha ha," he replied, dryly. Derek scowled at the closed curtain and quickly finished cleaning up. He pulled his shirt up over his head before tossing it to the dirty pile next to the tub.

"Suit yourself," Stiles said, tossing his boxers over before starting the tap.

For a second, Derek just stared at the garment. The garment that had been no more than ten seconds ago pressed against Stiles in the most intimate way. He was having a difficult time keeping himself from stealing the garment for himself. Hearing Stiles snickering some more snapped Derek out of his reverie. He scowled at the curtain again. As he turned to make his way out and into Stiles' room for his clean shirt, Derek thought it would be okay to exact some revenge for the torment Stiles was inducing. He grabbed all the towels in the room, tucking them under his arm, pushed down on the plunger of the toilet, and scurried out of the room, closing the door behind him just as Stiles cried out from the suddenly cold shower spray. He smirked. Vengeance was sweet.

Both Scott and Isaac looked to him from where they were in the kitchen, startled by Stiles' cry. Derek composed himself, wiping the smile off his face and just shrugged. He opened his mouth to say something, to maybe explain why he was shirtless and had a bunch of towels in his arms, but nothing he could think of seemed like it would be relevant considering the sly smiles the two were exchanging with one another. Instead, Derek just cleared his throat and made his way into Stiles' room, tossing the towels onto the boy's bed and slipping his shirt back over his head. He rejoined the two in the kitchen, helping them clean up the mess he had made.

Just as they had finished up, they heard Stiles yell from the bathroom once more. "Damn it, Derek! Where'd you put the towels?"

He couldn't help the chuckles escaping his lips. He also couldn't help the hitch in his breathing when Stiles slipped out the door, wet and very much nude, covering himself poorly with the dirty clothes he had stripped out of, scowling the whole way. He scampered to his room, quickly shutting the door behind him.

"Easy, tiger," Isaac snorted, bringing a hand to Derek's chin, closing his mouth for him.

Derek swatted the hand away, glaring at the blonde.

"Derek, if you take the cookies out of the oven now, I'll consider forgiving you!"

Again, Derek chuckled, but did as he was asked.

Once Stiles was fully clothed, comfortable in his nice pink shirt, he gave Derek directions to the apartment where Danny lived with Jackson, after complaining about how he knew he had made 24 cookies but there were three mysteriously missing. Isaac, Scott and Derek all had no idea what could've happened.

With cookies cooled, Derek bid them farewell and went off to deliver them. Danny thanked him, and also asked him to thank his boyfriend for baking them. Derek opened his mouth to retort, but sighed, uttering a simple "I will."

When Derek got home, a box of fried rice and walnut shrimp in his hands, he took the time to do that personal research he had mentioned. He tried to recall all his interactions with Stiles in the short time they had spent together today, making a log in his laptop.

This was how he was going to figure this out. With meticulous notes and attention to detail, Derek was going to study Stiles' behavior to determine whether or not he was interested. He was sure that with enough data, he'd solve the mystery once and for all.

/\/\/\

Day One: Stiles and I baked cookies together. It should be noted that the cookies weren't for me, but for a friend of his.

Also note: He was comfortable enough to reach into my jeans to pull out my phone. However, this just might be a sign of Stiles' lack of personal space. More data is needed.

/\/\/\

Day Two: I met Stiles at the coffee shop this morning. He brought the Jello he had promised me. Note: he spiked them with vodka. This could be seen as an attempt to get me drunk, but could also be seen as retaliation for stealing his towels. More data is needed.

/\/\/\

Day Three: Stiles and I went grocery shopping this afternoon. He kept returning all my Hot Pockets and replacing them with some leafy stuff. This could be interpreted as concern for my well being, although I should note he does the same for his roommate and father. Therefore, perhaps I'm more like a brother-figure to him, just like Scott is, rather than a potential suitor. I must make more comparisons between his treatment of Scott and myself.

/\/\/\

Day Four: Stiles purchased a Lego set for he and I to build together. This can be interpreted as a metaphor. We can build a life together. But it can also just mean he wanted to play. More data is needed.

/\/\/\

Day Five: Stiles came over after his shift to finally show me the movie in which Allison referenced my costume. Despite the historical inaccuracies, it was entertaining. However, it seems Stiles favored the redheaded Stelios more than he did the king.

Does he have a thing for redheads?

Note: Dying my hair is not an option.

…Unless it's a deal breaker.

More data is needed.

/\/\/\

Derek thought he was doing pretty well with his research. It kept him pretty occupied in the evenings, so much so that he was nearly started when his phone started ringing unexpectedly. He glanced over, frowning at the unknown number. Considering his previous experience with these unknown numbers and the persistence of their owners, Derek just reached for his phone and answered it.

"Hello?" he sighed.

"He answered. Okay. What? Look, if you already know what to say why did you make me call him? Forget. Do it yourself."

He heard a thump, followed by "Damn it, Jackson! You're such an asshole! Hello?"

Derek eyed his phone. "Danny?"

"Oh good, you didn't hang up. Hey Derek."

"Hey… what's up?"

"Well, I don't know if you know, but the gang and I are all going on this trip to Bear Valley tomorrow."

'That's tomorrow? Already?' Derek frowned. "Yeah… Stiles mentioned it."

"Oh he did? Okay good. Well here's the thing. Our douchebag, deadbeat friend Greenburg decided to flake on us last minute. I mean, I swear, who cancels the day before the trip? No wonder Finstock always yelled at him," Danny rambled. "But there were also those rumors that they had a thing going on too…"

"Danny. Where are you going with this?"

"Yeah, sorry. Well, as it turns out, that means we have a spot open and we're down 200 bucks for the rental. And while I'm sure we could all just throw our money together to make up for it, I thought maybe you'd like to come along in his place."

'Yes. Say yes. Say yes, damn it!' Derek growled to himself. But part of him was apprehensive. "Did Stiles put you up to this?"

"Hm?" Danny sounded confused. "No. Greenburg literally just called me and Jackson ten minutes ago. I swear, who does that? He probably just wants to skip out so he can spend the weekend with his secret lover. Anyway, you were the first one we thought of to bring along."

Again, Derek was screaming at himself to agree. But he still had to know. "What about the others? You sure they wouldn't mind?"

Danny chuckled. "No way. Trust me, you're a big step up from Greenburg, anyway. He tends to get on Lydia's nerves and you know that's never good. And because he's not coming that means we don't have to deal with his flatulence either. Biiiiiig step up. We'd love to have you along. You snowboard, don't you?"

"Actually, I don't…"

"Well, then here's the perfect opportunity for you to learn. Unless you already have plans for the next four days."

"Uh, no. Nothing…" 'Nothing except twiddling my thumbs waiting for Stiles to come home.'

"See? Perfect. So are you in?"

Derek slowly nodded, finally allowing himself to agree, but then realized he was on the phone. "Yeah, sure. I'll go."

"Good. We're meeting at the train station at seven-thirty tomorrow morning. We're staying for three nights, returning here on Monday. Pack for the cold. Oh and you should pack a bathing suit too."

"A bathing suit?"

"Yeah, they have a Jacuzzi and a heated pool. It could be fun. Or an insanely stupid idea. We'll see. Also, keep in mind, there's only three bathrooms and Allison and Lydia spend a ridiculous amount of time on their hair and considering the effort you put into your hair-"

"I don't-"

"Derek, please. Don't insult me. Just keep in mind, you'll probably end up sharing the bathroom with at least two other people, probably three if the girls take too long, so all hair care should be kept to a minimum, got it?"

Derek closed his eyes and exhaled. "Yeah, got it."

"Good. See you tomorrow, Derek. Oh, and don't tell Stiles. Jackson thought it might be funny to see his reaction when you show up instead of Greenburg and even though he's a dick most of the time, he's still my best friend. So yeah. Mum's the word."

"All right. See ya, Danny."

Derek had to take a second to stare at his blank phone, trying to figure out if this really happened. He tapped his phone, looking at the recent calls, and sure enough, there was that unknown number – probably Jackson's, now that he thought about it.

'I'm going on vacation with Stiles and his friends…' Derek let that sink in for a moment before looking back at his laptop at the entry he had been working on.

/\/\/\

Day Five: continued.

Also note: His friends just invited me to go on a trip with them. This could mean they accept me into their group as a potential partner for Stiles. Furthermore, nearly all of them have referred to Stiles as my 'boyfriend,' his father included. However, this could simply be a running joke amongst them. More data is needed.

/\/\/\

Derek saved his notes, before shutting down his laptop. He had some packing to do.

Note: I like to think that maybe Derek perused the magazine section of the bookstore, flipping through some ladies' magazines when no one was looking to catch some glimpses at certain articles about how to tell when a guy likes you. I like to think that, but that's probably not what happened because the interwebs is so accessible and filled with all sorts of useless information. But then I like to think that whilst flipping through those magazines, he might've caught some tips on better exfoliation techniques that are better for your skin and now Derek has this fancy night regime that he goes through that involves face masks and whatnot. Haha. But no. Interwebs it is.

And the answer is no. That is not another movie reference Stiles is making.

Also, I like to think that Derek has no problem saying 'I love you' to Laura and Peter because they are family and after what they went through, that 'I love you' is reassurance and affirmation. It is exactly the thing all three of them need to hear at the end of their conversations, no matter how twisted or creepy the conversation turns out to be, in case it's the last thing they hear from each other. Hale family feels!