"I'll get it," Stiles called out, rushing to his door to go grab what he suspects is the cake that was ordered for Lydia's birthday.
What he doesn't expect is to be met by possibly the most beautiful man to walk this Earth, oh yeah and the cake too but woah.
The man, Derek it says on his name tag, is dressed in blue fitted jeans and his red uniform Betty's shirt. He has a matching cap on his head too, hiding his dark hair. The lower half of his face carries what looks like three day old stubble. The man's lips are a vibrant pink, seeming to have a permanent frown shape. And his eyebrows, well, they're just downright intimidating. Below them is possibly his best feature, his eyes; a beautiful green color with speckles of blue and brown and gold.
Stiles swears, the man was carved with much care by God himself.
"Hello," Derek speaks, looking a little impatient.
"Oh, uh— sorry, I just— um, yeah it's— okay I'm gonna just give you your money now."
Stiles hands Derek the money, taking the cake in return then closes the door behind him before he could make a fool out of himself even more than he already has.
When he's back in his kitchen, looking just a little dazed, Scott asked him what's wrong.
"I think I found my soulmate," was his response.
Not even a week later, Derek was at his doorsteps again. This time delivering cookies, a variety mix of Betty's Specialties.
There was no reason for them, aside from the fact that he really wanted to see Derek's face again. The need was pretty intense actually. It's crazy because the one person in Beacon Hills that he wants to see, he never runs into. But he always happens to trip over his high school teacher Mr.Harris' shoes every.fucking.time he goes to the market.
Stiles was really starting to feel pathetic, but he's pretty sure he wasn't the only one who would do it, who has done it.
"What's the occasion now?"
It takes Stiles a moment to realize Derek had just spoken to him and when he does, "w-what?"
"The cookies, what'd you order all these cookies for?"
"Oh, um," he really had no idea, "Boy Scout party."
Yeah, that sounded like a pretty good excuse.
"Boy Scout Party," the delivery man repeated, trailing off with his brows furrowed in confusion, "so the kids who sell cookies are buying cookies from a pastry shop to celebrate their cookie successes?"
"Yup," Stiles nodded affirmatively, "that sounds about right. The cookies they sell aren't good enough for celebration, or anyone to eat really..."
"I like Boy Scout cookies," Derek says with a frown.
Stiles gapes in awe, because beautiful and brooding Derek has a sweet tooth. He knows a lot of people do but Derek is a different story. Derek looks like the kind of guy who's strictly vegetables, meat, water, and a lot of visits to the gym.
"What's their name?" Derek asked suddenly, snapping him from his thoughts.
"Y'know, the group. What's the name of the Boy Scouts?"
"Oh! Their name, the Cookie Scavengers."
It sounded way better in his head, it must've, the look Derek gave him proved it. But at least he didn't say it as if it were a question.
Derek just shook his head and handed Stiles the box of cookies after retrieving the money. He didn't even say bye or make any kind of parting gesture before he was walking off.
That didn't stop Stiles from staring at his ass as he walked off.
Later that day, the Sheriff gave Stiles a questioning look when his son showed up to the station with a box of cookies and actually handed his father not one, but two.
"I don't know what drugs you're on son, but please, keep taking them," John said before taking a big bite out of his oatmeal raisin cookie.
It was beginning to look ridiculous. Stiles was sure of it.
It may have looked just a little desperate, or very according to Lydia, but this time he ordered for a very legit reason. He ordered a combo pack of blueberry muffins, chocolate chip muffins, banana bread, and croissants.
"It's for the friends and family gathering breakfast," Stiles explained after realizing the look Derek was giving him.
He wasn't lying. They did actually have a big breakfast at least once every month to just spend time together and enjoy each other's company. This is just the first time Stiles has ever volunteered to pay for a majority of what they ate.
Derek gave Stiles an unimpressed look, rolling his eyes, then shoved the box in his direction.
"Thank you," Stiles said as they did their usual exchange.
He didn't get anything aside from a grunt but that's okay, he'd see Derek soon anyways.
"I know you have some serious health issues," said Derek the ninth time Stiles got something delivered from Betty's.
The crazy thing was that Stiles didn't even take a bite out of majority of the things he ordered. He's simply spending the money to spend time with Derek, the little amount of times he's blessed with anyways.
It's something you do with a prostitute, except less money, and in Stiles' opinion, more worth it.
His friends have actually began to pity him, asking why he can't just ask the guy for his number. The problem is, guy's like Derek aren't usually gay and even if they are, they don't go for scrawny pale men who look like they're twelve. So if he couldn't get his number, at least, he'd be able to talk to him for a little.
Stiles shrugged, "I'm a pretty healthy guy actually."
"Yeah, okay," Derek said before turning on his heels and walking away.
And if Stiles called to place another order the next day, well, no one was around to judge him.
Stiles was actually having a pretty shitty day. A day that not even Derek's face would be able to make him feel better, but a few sweet treats would. That's why he ordered, something simple too, just a batch of sugar cookies so it could get there on that day instead of the next.
He didn't really care to see Derek but that didn't mean it didn't bother him when he didn't.
"You're not Derek," Stiles frowned.
"Gee, thanks Captain Obvious," the blonde said sarcastically, "I didn't notice that Derek didn't have blonde hair and a nice set of tits."
The girl, Erica, was definitely a mouthy one. She reminded him much of Lydia, just a little less intimidating because no one, no one at all will ever be able to reach, let alone surpass, Lydia Martin's level of intimidation. Not even when she's well in her coffin.
"Wait, you're Stiles right," Erica asked after he had taken the box and she had taken the money.
"Well that is what the box says, so I'm guessing, yeah."
She grinned, her blue eyes sparkling, "hmm, you are cute," then she was walking off, not once looking back.
It took Stiles a moment to process what she just said, and when he did, she was already driving off.
Derek was back, thank the beautiful Lords. He was back and giving him a dozen cupcakes.
"What's the big event now? Giving these to all your professors? Way belated Valentine's Day pastry? Funeral?"
Stiles couldn't help but release a chuckle due to Derek's humor. Their encounters have become progressively easier since the first, which is great really.
"Nah man. I'm all on my own tonight. Just me, my cupcakes and my t.v. remote."
Derek stared at him for a moment as if he were contemplating, "this is my last delivery for the night. I could stay and join... if you want."
Stiles' eyes widened a little because, fuck yes, this is what he's been waiting for since the moment Derek first delivered the cake.
"It is," Derek asked, raising his brows but had a grin plastered on his face.
Stiles groaned, "I said that out loud, didn't I?"
"Yes you did," the older man responded, "you could've just asked for my number y'know. Like the third time. I think that's when I started to realize how pretty your eyes are."
If it weren't for the cupcakes in his hand he would've leapt forward and attacked Derek right than and there, because God, that was so fucking sweet.
"Maybe you could examine them a little better inside," it was lame, he knew that, but it got Derek to chuckle.
"I'd like that," Derek smiled, (smiled!) before stepping in after Stiles made room for him.
That night Stiles discovered vanilla frosting tasted way better off Derek's abs.