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When Derek walks into Stiles' apartment, he finds it hard to be surprised when he sees the entire kitchen covered in flour. 

He stops where he's standing and eyes the kitchen warily, his eyes flitting from the countertop to the cabinets to floor and the front of the fridge. If he didn't know any better, he'd say a bag of flour just threw up in Stiles' apartment, because this mess couldn't have possibly been made by one person alone.

There are remnants of other various foodstuffs, too, like sticky egg yolk near the sink and open packages of butter and... well, what smells to be some actually pretty delicious brownies cooking in the oven.

And suddenly he's curious.

"Stiles?" he calls out, and takes another step or two into the apartment, sidestepping all the mess. He slips his backpack off and tosses it onto the couch in the living room -- there are a few DVDs in there and a bag or two of microwave popcorn, but he has a feeling that they might not get to the movies today. "Are you in here, or did you die making brownies?"

There's something that sounds a lot like someone banging their head from the bathroom, and Derek can hear Stiles call out, "Coming!" before he bounds out into the hallway, covered up to the elbows in flour and a mess of chocolate. Derek tries to suppress his laughter (he's got it all over his face, too) and it makes his face twitch with the effort.

He hitches an eyebrow instead, and Stiles almost seems like he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. "Did you have a fight with a bag of flour or something?" he asks, and Stiles looks down at his hands, chuckling a bit. "I didn't know you could bake."

Stiles looks up and shrugs, a bit of a grin on his face. "I-I didn't, either, but when duty calls, duty calls." There's something about the way that his hands are shaking that sets Derek off a bit, and Stiles notices. He raises his hands, as if that's somehow an answer. "Adderall. Normally doesn't make me shake this much, but I'm kind of stressing the hell out."

Derek frowns. "What for?"

"Scott and Allison have this function going on later today, they're showing potential freshman around campus or something." Stiles says quickly, and he waves his hand dismissively. "They wanted to make it all welcoming, but neither of them can bake, and they both have enough on their hands as is."

The older man looks pointedly back towards the kitchen. "Well, it seems like you've got plenty on your plate, too." He looks back to Stiles. "I wouldn't expect Scott to know how to cook, but I'm kind of surprised with Allison."

"I know!" Stiles replies, as if it's the most exciting thing he's heard all week, and he brushes past Derek carefully as to not get chocolate on him and heads back into the kitchen. Derek follows him dubiously and watches him check on the brownies. "Even if she did, though, she's handling the tour and stuff, so I thought I might as well use today to help her out."

It's very Stiles-esque to completely forget about himself in the interest of others, and though Derek's now got a useless bag full of movies and popcorn, he can't help but smile a bit. "Because you don't have any plans today."

Stiles shrugs, wiping up some of the egg that's still on the counter. "Yeah, exac--" And then the penny drops and Derek laughs, because Stiles suddenly looks like a deer in headlights, like he just committed murder or something. He abandons the egg on the counter and seems to gesture vaguely with his hands for a moment, searching for words, before finally blurting, "I am so sorry."

Derek shrugs. "You're helping out your friends. I probably would have done the same." Stiles starts hastily washing off his hands and arms and Derek's eyes fall on the oven. "I'm surprised, though, those smell really good."

Stiles approaches him and hums, bringing his hands up to cup Derek's face and kiss him quickly, before patting his shoulders. "It sucks that you're allergic to chocolate."

"Hey, what will be will be." Derek brings his thumb up to wipe away some leftover sugar on Stiles' jaw, and he licks the pad of his finger. "I'm sure Scott and Allison and their freshmen will love them."

There's a roll of the eyes in his direction and Derek smirks. Stiles lets his arms slump to his side. "Yeah, they're my friends, but you're my boyfriend and that totally means more to me than some whiny freshmen taking a tour." he explains, and Derek smiles.

"That's sweet." he replies, and he leans in to kiss Stiles again, a tad slower this time. "Then again, you won't have anyone to bully next year if there aren't any freshmen." The egg-timer buzzes on top of the oven.

Stiles turns on his heel. "That's a completely valid point." he laughs, and he slips a glove on his hand, opening the oven. "But I probably could have made cupcakes or something, so you could have at least had one."

He shrugs. "The brownie is the most delicious of all baked desserts, as I've heard. I wouldn't have wanted to spoil everybody's fun just because chocolate gives me hives."

"Sexy." Stiles laughs and sets the brownies on the stovetop so they can cool. He takes the glove off and wipes his hands together for dramatic effect. "I should do something for a topping, though."

"Have you been watching the Food Network or something?" Derek asks with amusement, and he pulls Stiles' away from the brownies by his hip, backing him up against the counter. "I don't think anybody's gonna miss a topping or two."

Stiles' shaking has significantly lessened since Derek's arrival, and although there's still some flour on his collar bone and some under his neck, he doesn't seem to notice. He lets one hand curl around Derek's neck innocently. "Well, it's not like I can think of anything better to do."

Derek's grin is wicked. "Right, because baking has to be the high point of your day." He almost mumbles it against Stiles' lips as he leans in, and the kiss this time is much deeper, with a lot more intention than the ones previous. Stiles hums into it, and Derek's hands find his hips, pressing them together as much as possible.

"So I thought you said you were going to bring movies?" Stiles asks when they break apart, and Derek feigns deep thought.

"We could either watch Transformers 3," he says slowly, as if seriously considering it, "or we could probably have sex before you have to get those brownies to Scott. I dunno, sounds like a tough choice."

Stiles laughs. "You're an asshole." he says, but he follows it by kissing Derek again, and the brownies become the farthest thing from his mind.