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“What are you working on, baby?”
Stiles turned, grinning at Chris as he continued to whisk the chocolate ganache in his bowl. “My mom used to make chocolate candies every Christmas. We haven’t done it since she,” swallowing thickly, he shook his head, waving at the molds on the counter. “I figured I’d try to make some for the pack celebration.”
“Chocolate candies?” Chris asked, reaching for the silicon molds, but stopping himself from touching the fragile chocolate shells. “Like on that baking show you were watching? Are you gonna put a filling in here?”
“Yeah. Since it’s the holidays, I figured I’d do some orange and some peppermint. I’m gonna do pomegranate too, since that was my mom’s favorite.” Turning to wave toward the giant metal bowl, Stiles let out a little laugh. “Oh, and Kira asked if I could make a metric ton of gingerbread. I guess Jackson and Derek are gonna put their engineering and architecture degrees together to make a massive gingerbread house.”
“That should be fun,” Chris smiled, stepping behind Stiles to wrap arms around his waist. Pressing a light kiss to Stiles’ neck, he whispered, “What are you beating to death in the bowl, baby?”
“It’s called whisking,” Stiles huffed with a laugh, “and it's orange chocolate ganache. If you’re not careful, I might end up spilling it all over you.”
“It looks a little too creamy to spill,” Chris replied, reaching around Stiles and almost getting his finger in the bowl before he was blocked. “Not even a little taste?”
Spinning out of Chris’s arms, Stiles held the whisk up like a weapon, the silky, smooth chocolate sliding down onto the handle. “You wanna a taste?” He lifted an eyebrow, mischief shining in his eyes as he set the bowl on the counter. “I’ll give you a taste.”
“Stiles,” his voice playfully stern, Chris took a step back, eyes locked on the whisk. “Peter will be mad if you make a mess in here.”
“I know how to clean up my messes.” Lurching forward with a giggle, Stiles swung the utensil toward Chris, flinging a line of wet chocolate that landed on his arm. “Oops,” he said, his giggle turning to a full laugh at the look of utter shock on Chris’s face.
“You got chocolate all over me.” Glancing from his arm to Stiles a few times, Chris shook his head. “I can’t believe you did that.”
Dragging his tongue along the wire of the whisk, Stiles hummed before smacking his lips, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Really? You can’t believe I did that? Do you even know me?”
“You little shit,” Chris muttered, squinting as he glanced around the room. An almost dark glee filled his eyes, a small smirk pulling one side of his mouth up as he stepped toward the counter. Swiping two fingers into the bowl, he grabbed a glob of the chocolate filling and launched it at Stiles, laughing loudly as it plopped against his cheek.
“You did not just—just,” Stiles sputtered, wiping at his face. “You put your fingers in the bowl. Now I’m gonna have to start all over.”
Chris retreated slowly as Stiles stalked toward him, but was unprepared for the glob of chocolate that came sailing at him. It landed on his face, sliding down and catching in his beard.
Chuckling, Stiles switched directions as Chris reached for him, grabbed a bag of mini chocolate chips, and threw a handful over his shoulder. “Oh my god,” he sniggered, wrapping his arms around his middle as he bent forward with the force of his glee. “You have chocolate chips in your beard, too. They stuck to the chocolate, and I can’t…” he trailed off, dissolving into uncontrollable laughter.
“You think it’s funny,” Chris faux growled, lunging forward to trap Stiles against the counter. “When Peter gets home, he’s gonna make you clean every inch of this mess up with your tongue.”
Swallowing back another laugh, Stiles quirked an eyebrow. “The whole mess? With my tongue?” he asked, questions broken up by spurts of giggling.
“Every damn inch.”
Smirking, Stiles nodded, then leaned forward, dragging his tongue along Chris’s cheek. “Might as well get started on the clean up then.”
Before Stiles knew what was happening, Chris was dragging chocolate-coated fingers down his throat, leaving a smear on Stiles’ chin where his thumb pressed to give him more access.
“Oh no,” Chris whispered, teeth scraping along the line of chocolate. “Looks like I made a mess, too. I'd better help.”
A soft keen escaped Stiles' throat as Chris licked and nipped his way up the long expanse of exposed and chocolate-covered skin. The whole experience had him melting into the counter as the food fight took a sharp turn into erotic territory.
They licked and nipped at each other, both spreading more chocolate, not noticing the smears they left on the counter or the drips that fell from overheated skin onto the floor. Clothing seemed to melt away as quickly as the candy filling on a hot tongue, leaving them both naked and covered in each other's sugary sweet fingerprints.
“What do we have here?” Peter asked from the doorway, glowing red eyes sweeping over the mess they’d made together.
Still clinging to Chris, Stiles cleared his throat, smiled, and waved a hand toward the untouched molds on the opposite counter. “I’m making candy for the pack Christmas.”
Slowly walking over to them, Peter dragged his finger along Chris’s hip, holding it up to show them the chocolate he’d gathered. “I think you may have missed the mold, love.”
“I was in here, behaving myself, and Chris just came in and started a food fight!” Stiles exclaimed, eyes wide and blinking with fake innocence.
Snorting, Chris nipped at Stiles’ shoulder before looking back at Peter. “That’s exactly what happened. I made this mess all by myself and decided to clean it up with my tongue.”
“Somehow, I don’t believe you.” Looking between them, Peter shook his head as he stepped closer. “Kira called and asked what time we were coming over. Apparently, she’d tried to call you, but you didn’t answer.”
“My hands are kinda messy,” Stiles laughed, holding them up and wiggling his fingers. “What’d she need?”
“She wanted to know when the gingerbread was coming so that she could invite everyone over.” Walking over to look into the giant bowl of batter, Peter lifted an eyebrow.
“I’m guessing that’s what this is?”
“Yeah. I wanted to get the ganache in the fridge to set before I started baking that.”
Pressing a kiss to Stiles’ throat, Chris stepped back and turned to the sink. “No more messing around, baby. Tell us how to help.”
“You two need to go shower,” Peter laughed, leaning in to kiss some chocolate from Chris’s shoulder. Eyes wide, he turned toward Stiles as he licked his lips clean.
“Sweetheart, is this orange chocolate? It’s delicious.”
“Well, that batch is messed up, but yeah, it’s orange.” Stiles rubbed his hands over his face, trying to organize his thoughts. He let out a low groan, feeling the drag of drying chocolate under his palms. Looking down at his hands, he let out a laugh, then pointed toward the doorway. “Come on, Chris. Let’s go shower so we can finish getting ready for the party.”
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The shower took a little longer than it needed to, but by the time Stiles and Chris got back to the kitchen, the chocolate was cleaned up, and baking sheets lined the counter, ready to be filled.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” Stiles said, eyes darting around the clean room.
“Say thank you and tell us our next steps,” Peter replied, kissing Stiles on the cheek.
“Yeah, yeah, ok, thanks. We need to line those baking sheets with parchment paper, then put the batter onto them. We’ll bake it a little longer than the recipe says, so it’s a bit drier. That way, the house will be more stable.” Pulling out the paper, Stiles handed it to Chris, then went to preheat the oven and stir the batter.
“Here are the shapes that Derek and Jackson said they needed,” Stiles said, waving at the measurements and dimensions on the sheet of paper he’d printed out. “If we don’t bake them in the right shape, the cookie could crumble when they try to cut it. He brought over a couple of rulers and a protractor.”
“A protractor,” Chris asked, laughing as he tapped it on the table. “Does it need to be that exact?”
“It won’t fit together right if the measurements aren’t correct,” Stiles shrugged, grabbing the ruler to measure out the dough he rolled out on the cutting board.
“If you say so,” Chris shrugged. “You do that part, and we can keep the baking sheets moving for you.”
The three of them worked together, filling the sheets and putting them in the oven. When they had two baking and two waiting their turn, Peter turned to Stiles with a lifted eyebrow. “Where did all these come from? If I remember correctly, we only had one or two.”
“You had two, and I grabbed the ones from my dad’s house. There was no way I was getting all of this done with just the two you had here.” Looking around the room, Stiles wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, a small smile pulling at his lips.
“What are you smiling at, baby?” Sliding an arm around Stiles’ waist, Chris kissed the side of his head.
“I was just thinking that it would be cool to make this a holiday tradition. We're making a mountain of gingerbread and taking it over. Erica, Kira, and Lydia went to get all kinds of candy and frosting to decorate the house, and Jackson and Derek drew up the plans. They have a literal blueprint for this gingerbread house. It’s insane, but kinda awesome, too. I used to love Christmas, but ever since my mom passed, it’s been a get through it kinda thing.” Stiles rested his head against Chris’s, letting out a soft sigh. “I like the idea of new traditions with the pack.”
“So do I, sweetheart,” Peter murmured, stepping close to kiss Stiles’ forehead.
Clearing his throat, Stiles pulled out of their embrace, looking down at his watch to check the time. “Text Derek and let him know that the cookies are in the oven, but we need to leave them overnight, so they get hard enough to be stable.”
“You gonna finish up your candy, baby?” Chris asked, tapping the now-empty bowl the ganache had been in.
“Good idea. I can make some to use for the gingerbread house, too!” Gathering the ingredients, Stiles couldn’t help but smile again. The three of them working together in the kitchen to get ready for a pack party was his perfect idea of Christmas. He’d missed having family around during the holidays.
“Derek is bringing everyone over here instead,” Peter announced, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “Apparently, this is going to be a two day event. They’re all going to stay the night and build the house here in the morning.”
“Where the hell was he when we were measuring all of this out!” Stiles demanded, throwing his hands in the air. “Shit! We need groceries! I don’t have anything to feed everyone for dinner or breakfast!”
“Calm down, baby. Make me a list, and I’ll run and get what you need. You can stay here and keep making your candy.” Chris chuckled as he pulled Stiles into a kiss. “Everything will be fine.”
“Are you staying here?” Stiles looked over Chris’s shoulder at Peter, eyebrow quirked. “I could use a little help.”
“Sure, love. No problem,” Peter smiled, leaning back against the counter.
Stiles nodded, distractedly kissing Chris goodbye as he started stirring the chocolate he was heating on the stove. Keeping track of what he needed to do in his head, he called out instructions to Peter as they worked through the list.
“The pack is here,” Peter interrupted Stiles' thoughts, grabbing him around the waist and kissing his cheek. “Chris should be back soon, too. We should do takeout tonight so you don’t have to cook after doing this all day.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. Pizza or Chinese?” Stiles wondered, inspecting the tray of candy in his hand to see if it was ready.
“I’ll let the pack decide.” Nuzzling Stiles' throat, Peter gave a soft hum before turning to head into the other room.
Smiling over his shoulder, Stiles listened to Peter greet the pack, the volume of the house instantly skyrocketing. He was flipping the last batch of candy from the mold when Erica walked in, Derek and Kira close behind her.
“This my house?” Derek asked, leaning over the pans of gingerbread and breathing deeply, inhaling the sweet and spicy scent.
“Yup. There are two more in the oven, but it has to sit for a while, or it’ll be too soft to build with.”
“Please tell me you got the measurements right,” Jackson demanded, leaning against the door jamb.
“I know how to use a ruler, asshole.” Holding out a piece of chocolate to both Erica and Kira, Stiles clasps his fingers together as they ate them. Nerves were twisting in his belly as he waited for them to react. It was his mom's favorite pomegranate chocolate, and he really hoped he’d done it correctly.
“Oh my fucking god,” Erica moaned, eyes flashing beta gold as she yelled for Boyd.
“What’s wrong?” Boyd asked, bumping Jackson out of the doorway so he could get through.
“I’m sorry, but I think we need to break up. I’m gonna marry Stiles so he can feed me handmade chocolate for the rest of my life.”
“I leave for an hour, and you toss me over for a younger woman?” Chris huffed from the doorway with an armload of groceries. “See if I ever run to the store for you again.”
“At least she’s hot,” Stiles laughed, holding his hands up in surrender as Boyd crossed his arms over his chest, staring hard at Stiles in faux anger. “How about I make them, and you feed them to her?”
“As long as I get more, I don’t give a shit,” Erica shrugged, laughing as Boyd gripped the front of her shirt and pulled her into a kiss.
Pulling back, he licked his lips, eyes shooting to Stiles. “Hell, I’ll marry you for that. What was she eating?”
“Here,” Holding out a tray of candy, Stiles’ smile was so wide his cheeks hurt. “Everyone can try one.”
“Before you eat that,” Peter interrupted from the doorway. “Stiles is spoken for. There will be no more talk of taking him from me, or did you forget? I’m the alpha. I’ve always been the alpha, and no one takes what’s mine.”
“I think you mean ours, Alpha,” Chris smiled, kissing Peter’s cheek.
Leaning against the counter, Stiles watched as the women set up the candy decorations and the guys carefully remeasured the cookies to make sure they hadn’t spread too much during baking. This is what he’d been missing in his life. He loved his father and couldn’t wait to see him for Christmas, but he loved the noise of a big family. It’s what he’d always wanted.
“You look happy, love,” Peter murmured, kissing Stiles’ cheek.
“I definitely wanna make this a new family tradition,” Stiles affirmed with a sharp nod. “I wanna frame the blueprints for the gingerbread house next to a picture of it when it’s done. We’re gonna do this every year, and I’ll start a book with pictures of all the houses in it, but I wanna frame the first one.”
“Of course, sweetheart. Though we may need to rent a hall as the pack grows,” Peter laughed, waving a hand at the kitchen, overflowing with people, with pack, with family.
“Um,” Kira tentatively broke in, “about that. There will be at least one more next Christmas.”
It took Stiles a second to understand what she meant before he let out a big whoop. “Seriously! A baby!” Rushing forward, he caught her in a hug, lifting her to spin in circles. He abruptly stopped, eyes huge as he set her gently on her feet. “That didn’t hurt the baby, did it?”
“Let go of my wife,” Derek demanded, stepping in to wrap an arm around Kira, his hand resting on her belly. “My wife and child.”
Taking in Derek’s dreamy eyes and soft smile, Stiles let out a sigh as he walked back to his men. Laughing a little as they pulled him in, he kissed Peter and then Chris before giving a small nod. “Yeah, definitely framing this one. It’s perfect.”