[Sterek] Cupboard Love (boyxboy) (complete)

Chapter 8

Derek hadn't actually said he wanted breakfast, but who really wanted to live on protein shakes every morning? Not Stiles. Which might be why Stiles looks like... well, Stiles, and not Derek but seriously - protein shakes. That's why he also made a double batch of pasta carbonara for him. Well, that and he suspects Derek eats more than him, so he's increasing the amount of food. So when Stiles makes his way out Sunday morning, he's loaded down with heaps of food, carefully stowed on the floor behind the seats so it won't tip over.

Just like the last two times, Derek is waiting for him on the front steps once Stiles makes it up the drive, underdressed for the weather, but this time he actually helps carry the food inside, then stands, shoulder brushing against Stiles'. "Looks good," he says, eyes flicking down to the food and back up to Stiles. "What is it?"

"This is some pasta carbonara, so you can have it for breakfast or lunch or dinner or whenever - just heat it up. I think you'll like it." Stiles taps the top of the container and smiles. "I know you didn't ask for breakfast, but it's really a lunch or dinner thing that just happens to also work as breakfast. Trust me!"

Derek nods. "And these?"

"This is mom's famous beef bourguignon, and this is the potato mash to go with it." He's about to explain further when Derek's stomach growls and his cheeks flush lightly under the stubble. "Do you want some now? I can just serve it up so you can see the best way to eat it." Stiles tilts his head, looking up at Derek who nods.

"Please," he gestures, and opens the cutlery drawer and a cupboard full of deep, practical looking bowls stacked on wide, sturdy plates. Maybe Derek Hale has a secret clumsy side, or maybe he just likes sturdier dishes.

Stiles scoops up some of the mashed potato and makes a medium peak in the bottom of the bowl before heaping the beef and vegetable stew on top and popping it in the microwave to heat up. "It's better with the mash underneath, because the sauce gets all over it and - well I guess you'll see."

Derek busies himself closing up the containers and putting them into the fridge. It looks like the food Stiles makes is the only real stuff that goes in there, though there are a few cans of soda tucked into the door where most people keep condiments. Stiles makes a note: Derek doesn't even own ketchup.

The microwave beeps and Derek carefully pulls out his food and dips his fork in to get some of everything for the first bite. Stiles wouldn't have guessed it, but he's a neat, almost delicate eater, holding the bowl and carefully wrapping his lips around the fork. It's hypnotic, watching his tongue peek out to clean his mouth as he makes a satisfied grumble of sound. He looks sinful.

Stiles is staring. He's seriously staring and normally this would be where he'd make his quick and awkward exit, but Derek glances up and he looks kind of - happy. That's almost a smile on his face. A real smile. Stiles feels a bit wobbly in the knees and leans back against the island. "Good?" He asks.

"It's delicious," Derek replies seriously. "Are you hungry? You made a lot. Grab a bowl." It's either admit to zoning out on the beauty that is Derek Hale's mouth wrapped around things or eat his own food. Not a difficult choice. Stiles heats up his own bowl quickly enough and looks around, but the kitchen, like the other rooms he's seen of the house so far, is basically devoid of furniture. There's no table, no chairs, not even a bar stool.