Sterek One Shots

Hale's Orgasms

"You know what blows my mind?" Stiles asks as he opens the door for his best friend.

"Thanks and what?" Scott says, walking into their favourite bakery. It'd been a great discovery on a hot, lazy day.

"That this place still doesn't have an actual name," Stiles says, with a shake of his head while the door bangs shut behind him. "I mean, we've been coming here for eight months. Isn't it illegal to have an unnamed business?"

"You'd have to ask Lydia. I wouldn't have a clue," Scott tells him. They step into the line. "But I don't see the big deal. They're always busy, so clearly people know about them."

"Word of mouth is powerful," Stiles says, pointing to a couple by the window. Scott cranes his neck so he can see Danny and Ethan sharing a cupcake. "But I still think this place deserves a name, you know? I'd like to call it something other than 'The Bakery'. That's not even catchy."

"It's accurate," Scott points out.

"Whatever, I'm going to complain to Cora," Stiles answers right before they reach the counter. Cora Hale smiles at them both.

"Nice to see you guys. What will it be today?" she asks, in her usual chipper serving voice.

"A name for the bakery," Stiles says, but his tone is lighthearted and Cora snorts.

"I've been on my brother's ass about that for months. He currently has it registered as 'The Bakery' but I told him he can't call it that," Cora says. She leans forward and in a stage whisper, adds, "You can't even search us on social media—" she raises her voice, directed at the kitchen door, "—because the bakery doesn't even have a goddamn name!"

The door swings open as if Derek had been waiting for a cue. He shoots a dirty look at Cora before he spots Scott and Stiles. His face softens a little. "What's going on out here?"

"Stiles just ordered a name for the bakery," Cora informs her brother. His eyebrows rise in Stiles' direction and Cora adds, "I would have so much fun with social media if you just gave it a name."

"The Bakery is a fine name," Derek retorts.

Stiles snorts. "Dude, you don't even have a sign."

"Well, nothing I've come up with pleases this one, so it doesn't matter," Derek tells them. He leans against the counter. "Is that all you need?"

Stiles remembers Derek Hale from high school. God, the guy had been the reason Stiles realized he was gay. He'd started taking his clothes off in the locker room after lacrosse practice and Stiles had been a goner. Stiles had also been drooling, and Scott had taken his smelly lacrosse shorts and wiped them across Stiles' face like a decent bro.

Derek had been a year older, walking around with an air of responsibility and a good sense of humour. Stiles remembers trailing around him during Derek's last year like a lost puppy dog, constantly trying to make Derek laugh. It's such a nice sound, and he looks so fucking beautiful when he does. They'd never discussed Stiles' obvious crush on him, and hadn't spoken about high school since Stiles had discovered that the bakery belonged to Derek eight months ago.

Scott had yanked Stiles out of the place that day and demanded to know if he was okay. He had every reason to ask. Before the bakery, he last time Stiles had seen Derek before the bakery had been the day that Derek had graduated. Stiles had gone to the after-grad party, had a little too much to drink, and had sloppily kissed Derek. He still remembers the humiliating moment when Derek pulled away and said, "I can't do this, Stiles." He'd gotten up and left.