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After tossing and turning for hours, Stiles finally opened his eyes and lifted his head to glance at the clock on his nightstand. The digital clock read 4:24am. He slumped back down and groaned. He hadn’t gotten one bit of sleep the entire time he‘d been in bed.
Insomnia wasn‘t a new thing for him. It had been common for him when he’d been younger to have difficulty sleeping about once or twice a week, but he’d usually managed to fall asleep eventually. But then he’d been possessed by the Nogitsune in high school, and the trauma of not being in control of his own body made his occasional insomnia become much more frequent. And when he’d actually been able to fall asleep, he often had had nightmares about when the Nogitsune controlled his body and how scared he‘d been that he would kill someone. Thankfully, with time and the love and care of his packmates, plus some therapy sessions with Marin Morrell, the nightmares had mostly gone away.
He missed nights with his pack. They didn’t always get along, but he‘d protect his pack with everything he had, and they would protect him just the same. And on pack nights, everyone would get into a pile of bodies, pillows, and blankets. There was always such a feeling of peacefulness and safety that Stiles would asleep almost immediately and stay that way throughout the night.
But there hadn’t been a pack night in months. Almost everyone in the pack had been in college, so no one was near each other anymore during the school year. The only pack member who was a constant in Beacon Hills was Derek as the alpha, and everyone else was scattered around the country. Stiles had been the first to return home since he was only about three hours away. So he was stuck with nothing to ease his sleep. As soon as everyone was back in Beacon Hills, Stiles was going to schedule a pack night for them all to get together again.
He turned away from the clock, but his growing frustration was making it even harder to fall asleep. Not even his pillow was helping. After another fifteen minutes of tossing and turning, he decided to just give up on getting any sleep that night and vowed to drink some energy drinks or coffee to keep his energy up until the next evening.
When he’d been in college and couldn’t manage to fall asleep and didn’t feel like laying in bed pretending, he’d slipped out of his dorm room so he didn’t disturb his roommate and had studied in the common area. But since he was home from college for the summer, with only one year left before he got his degree, nothing to study, and no new monsters to research for the pack, he didn‘t know what to do.
He stumbled downstairs without bothering to get dressed. He wore a soft t-shirt and sleep pants, and that was good enough. He didn’t have to worry about being quiet because his dad was working at the station overnight until eight that morning. He plopped down on the couch and flipped through the channels, but there was nothing interesting on except for some kitchen gadget infomercial. He watched it for a few minutes before he was struck with the sudden urge to bake.
Whenever he was home, Stiles was usually the one to cook, making dinner for himself and his dad, but he didn’t bake anything that often. Baking was something special that he’d done with his mom when he‘d been a little boy. Even though it had been years since his mother passed away, it had still been too painful to even think about baking again. But he was feeling the urge to be close to her, and baking was the best thing he could think of.
He perused the small selection of cookbooks that they had, mostly older books that his mom had bought and used when she was alive and that Stiles continued to use. But they weren‘t really anything special.
He dug around in a drawer that was hardly ever opened and pulled out an old handwritten book with quite a few stains on the cover. It read “Stilinski Family Recipes” in his mother’s handwriting. He flipped through the book, remembering his mother making the different recipes inside. He could still hear her voice in his head as he passed by the baking recipes that they had made together.
“Up here, Mieczyslaw. You can reach the bowl from the chair.”
“Okay, go ahead and stir. Carefully, now, so the flour doesn’t spill!”
“This is how you knead. Put all your strength into it! Good job!”
“This recipe was passed down for generations. Don’t forget it, or your Babcia will hunt us down!”
It was getting harder to read the book through his unfallen tears, but his heart felt a little lighter being able to remember the good memories and not feel nothing but sadness. He wiped his eyes quickly and continued flipping through the notebook, looking for just the right thing. “Aha!” he cried, pointing at one particular recipe.
Apple crumb cake.
It was a delicious pastry that could be eaten for breakfast or dessert, and because he‘d already gone to the grocery store and had stocked up on healthy ingredients that his father probably had never bought while he’d been at school, he had everything he needed to make it, including the apple juice his mom added just a tiny bit of to the cake batter for added flavor. He grabbed all of the ingredients out of the refrigerator and pantry and got busy measuring.
**********
An hour and a half later, Stiles pulled a hot, delicious-smelling apple crumb cake out of the oven. Testing its doneness and deeming it cooked through, he set it down the cooling rack. It was about six thirty in the morning by then, and Stiles‘ urge to bake hadn‘t been satisfied.
Going through the cookbooks again, he decided to make some oatmeal raisin cookies that he could send to the Sheriff’s station with his dad for everyone there. His father might even be able to have a few of them himself, if he hadn’t already ruined his diet for the week.
Satisfied with his choice, he took out more ingredients from the pantry and started to mix the dry ingredients
“What are you doing?”
The container of oats almost went flying out of Stiles’ hands. “Derek!” he yelled, recognizing the voice before he’d ever turned around. “God, you need a bell! What are you doing here? It’s like six in the morning!” His eyes narrowed. “How did you even get in here anyways?”
Derek shrugged. “I was on my morning run. I remembered you came home a couple of days ago and I decided to come by. I came in the window in your room and you weren’t there.” He was wearing a gray tank top with sweat stains, running shorts, and sneakers. He was barely even breathing heavily. Werewolves and their unfair abilities…
“Why, Sourwolf, I didn’t know you cared!” Stiles said, grinning. Once he had quickly gotten over being startled by Derek, he realized how much he missed the alpha werewolf and didn’t want him to leave. “Now get over here and help me!”
Lydia had been his first crush, but Derek was the one that he still had feelings for. He’d dated some people in college, but he’d never been able to get over his feelings for the alpha werewolf. He’d never told Derek about how he felt about him, though. Derek had never indicated in all the years that he’d known him that he’d ever felt the same way about Stiles, so Stiles had just resigned himself to the fact that he would always love Derek and was just thankful that Derek was still in his life even if it wasn’t as a boyfriend.
Derek went over to the counter where Stiles was working. “What are you doing?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I got up and baked!” He held out a hand toward his baking so far. “See, I made apple crumb cake and now I’m making oatmeal raisin cookies, and you are going to help!” Stiles handed Derek the container of oats. “Measure out the oats! I need two cups!”
Thankfully, it appeared that Derek had some kitchen experience. They worked side by side measuring ingredients and mixing. Together, they dropped little dollops of batter onto the cookie sheets and Stiles put the first batch into the oven.
“It surprises me that you’re allowed around an oven,” Derek commented, a glint in his eye.
“Rude!” Stiles cried. “I am an excellent cook and make stuff for me and my dad all the time!”
“Let me check your fire alarm. It must be broken.”
“Ha ha, you are so funny, Derek,” Stiles said in a deadpan voice, but secretly, he was completely delighted whenever Derek actually showed that he had a wicked sense of humor.
Derek was grinning back at him, and Stiles just wanted to grab his stupidly handsome face and kiss him right on the lips. Instead, he grinned back and said, “What about you? How come you know how to bake?”
“My dad,” Derek said shyly. “He was the baker in the family, and he let me bake with him. I haven’t had the chance to do it since…”
“Yeah,” Stiles said quickly. There was no need to make Derek say what had happened to his family yet again. If he could spare Derek any pain, he’d do it. “Sooooo,” he said, trying to change the subject. “Still keeping up with the running, huh?”
Derek chuckled, “Stiles, it’s okay. I’ve had some therapy with Morrell, too.”
“Really?” Stiles was surprised but happy for him.
“Yeah, while you guys were away at school. It’s quieted down around here, thankfully, so I thought I’d work on myself.” His cheeks pinked, and Stiles thought it looked so adorable.
“That’s really awesome,” Stiles told him sincerely.
“Thanks.” Derek gave him a small, shy smile.
Stiles felt like he was dying inside. It was getting harder and harder to be around the alpha. His love for Derek was just getting stronger and stronger and he was so scared that he was going to let something slip and then Derek would hate him forever and he’d get kicked out of the pack and he’d never see Derek or anyone else ever again.
“Stiles!”
Stiles blinked at Derek, breaking out of his spiraling thoughts.
“Your heart was beating so fast and you smelled like distress,” Derek said, concern all over his face. “Is everything okay?”
“No! Everything is not okay!” Stiles blurted out. He couldn’t keep it in any longer. “I have had feelings for you since high school, and here you are with your concern and your baking skills and your humor that is just as awesome as mine, and they just keep growing more and more to the point that I completely love you by now, okay? And you don’t want me, so I am trying to just be your friend because I don’t want to lose you…” Stiles felt completely deflated. It was all out in the open now… He closed his eyes because he didn’t think he could bear to see Derek walk away.
“Stiles.”
“No.”
“Stiles. Open your eyes.”
“I don’t want to.“ But Stiles opened one eye hesitantly, then the other.
Derek was still standing there, soft smile still on his face. “I’ve had feelings for you, too. For a long time. But I didn’t say anything because you were still in high school. And then you went off to college and I didn’t want to hold you back.”
Stiles’ jaw dropped. “So we could’ve been together all this time, but we were too stupid to say anything?” he asked, feeling kind of dazed.
Derek chuckled. “We could make up for it now?”
“Oh my god, yes!” Stiles blurted out, leaning in towards Derek, who leaned in towards him as well. Their lips puckered, ready to meet. Stiles’ heart was pounding in the best way. Their lips were inches away from each other…
Beep! Beep! Beep!
They jerked apart, startled by the oven’s alarm going off, signaling that the first batch of cookies were done.
“Oh, come on!” Stiles shouted, practically stomping over to the oven. “That is so not fair!” He opened the oven, and the whiff of warm oatmeal and raisins calmed him down a little.
“It’s okay,” Derek said, coming up behind him and putting an arm around his shoulder. “We have plenty of time.”
“We’re gonna be the best boyfriends!” Stiles affirmed happily, putting the oven mitt on his hand and carefully removing the cookie sheet and putting it on top of the stove.
“And now that that’s taken care of…” Derek leaned in towards Stiles again.
This time, their lips finally met, and Stiles felt like he was soaring. The oven mitt slid off his hand as his arms wrapped around Derek tightly.
By the time they broke apart, Stiles was breathing heavily, but he was in complete bliss. “Let’s do that a whole lot more!” he declared.
Derek was happy to oblige.
**********
In between kisses, Stiles and Derek continued to bake the oatmeal raisin cookies. When the last batch had just come out of the oven, Derek suddenly turned toward the front door. “Your dad’s home.”
Sure enough, a couple of minutes later, the door opened revealing an exhausted John Stilinski. “I’m home,” he called. Then he stopped in his tracks. “What’s Derek Hale doing here?”
“He helped me bake some goodies!” Stiles told him. “Come and see!” He led his father into the kitchen with Derek trailing behind. “He helped me make all these oatmeal raisin cookies! You can bring them to your deputies, and maaaaaybe you can have some, too.” He raised an eyebrow at his dad, then he took a deep breath and added hesitantly. “And… I made apple crumb cake.”
John froze. “Your mom‘s apple crumb cake? From her family recipe book?”
Stiles swallowed nervously. “Yeah. Do you want to try it?”
“Yeah,” John said quietly. “I do.”
Stiles carefully cut a slice of the crumb cake, put it on a plate, and set it in front of his father. He scarcely breathed as John lifted his first bite to his lips.
After chewing and swallowing, John closed his eyes and let out a happy sigh. “This is delicious! It’s just like your mom’s.” He opened his eyes and looked at Stiles. “You did real good, kiddo.”
Stiles beamed, tears actually falling down his cheeks this time. “Thanks, Dad,” he whispered. “Let’s make her recipes more often.”
“Yeah,” John said. “We’ll do that, son.”
Stiles turned to Derek, who’d been apparently trying to back out of the kitchen. “And where are you going?” he asked accusatorily.
Derek looked sheepish. “I didn’t want to intrude on your family moment,” he said. “I don’t belong here.”
“Bah,” Stiles said, waving a hand. “I want you here.” He grabbed Derek’s hand in his and pulled him back towards where his father was still standing.
John looked down at their connected hands. “Is there something you boys need to tell me?” he asked.
“Um, yeah, actually,” Stiles said, feeling a little nervous despite the fact that he was an adult. Parental approval was important no matter what the age of the child was. “Derek is my boyfriend!”
“And how long has this been going on?”
Stiles felt Derek squeeze his hand. “Today, sir,” Derek replied. “It’s a new thing.”
Stiles nodded and looked hopefully at his father.
A smile broke out on John’s face. “Good,” he said simply. “I’m glad for you boys.” He clapped both of them on the shoulder.
Derek stared at his shoulder, then back up at John in awe.
“Oh, don‘t look so surprised!” John chuckled. “You‘re a good man. Now I am going to get some much needed sleep. You two clean up in here, okay?”
“Okay, Dad!” Stiles said.
“Good night, sir,” Derek added quietly.
As they were cleaning up the kitchen, Stiles started to yawn. By the time they finished, Stiles’ eyes were starting to droop.
“Do you want to try to get some sleep yourself?” Derek asked him.
“Yeah,” Stiles yawned again.
Derek helped Stiles upstairs to his bedroom. Realizing that Derek had nothing to sleep in, Stiles lent him a pair of his baggiest sleep pants, hoping they’d fit Derek’s more muscular body.
Once they were both settled in bed, Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles, holding him close. Stiles rested his head on Derek’s chest and already felt himself starting to drift. “It’s you,” he murmured.
“What’s that?” Derek whispered.
“I always slept easily at pack nights. It’s because of you. You make me feel safe,” Stiles mumbled. “Like you’re my anchor.”
Curled up in Derek’s arms, Stiles fell into a peaceful sleep at last.