Theme: Witch and Familiar
Derek is in the back, piping bag in hand decorating a cake with careful rows of sweet peas when the door to the shop opens and the energy inside shifts. Before he can control it, Derek is shifting. Delicate sweet peas become a smear of pink icing under his claws.
From the front of the shop, Derek hears Laura cheerfully call out, “Good Morning! Welcome to Cake of Cakes! How can I help you?” She has better control than him, and more patience with customers, and once again Derek is happy that she covers the counter and lets him hide in the back with his work.
In lieu of an answer, there’s a soft sound of something hitting the floor, and then Laura is yelling, “Hey! He can’t go back there! Wait!”
Derek is turning, ready to go to her side, when the door to the kitchen opens and a sleek red fox leaps inside. Without stopping, the animal makes the leap onto Derek’s work table, his mouth open in a grin as Derek looks on in confusion. The fox regards him for a moment, rubs his tail along Derek’s arm, then buries his head in the cake Derek had been frosting before the interruption.
That startles Derek into action. “What the hell!” When he reaches out to grab the small creature, the fox jumps at him and climbs to his shoulder, wrapping his body around Derek’s neck like a scarf before Derek can process what’s happening. Swallowing his mouth full of cake, the fox cackles at him and buries his snout against his neck.
Derek is trying to piece together exactly what’s happening and what he’s going to do about it when the kitchen door is pushed open again. This time, a lithe young man stumbles inside, followed by a disgruntled looking Laura.
“Oh Gods,” the man exclaims. The first thing that comes to Derek’s mind when he sees him is the word, ‘striking.’ With a tall build and bright eyes, the man is beautiful. And he’s exactly Derek’s type. “Ryker! What are you doing?” His voice gets higher as he shuffles forward. It says something about him that it doesn’t make Derek cringe. “I am so sorry. Ryker, get over here now. Oh, Gods.”
The fox tilts his head at the boy, cackles again, then rubs his head against Derek’s cheeks. The concern on Laura’s face fades into intense amusement. “Hey, Der,” she purrs, laughter in her voice. “This is Mage Mieczyslaw Stilinski. He just moved into town.”
The mage flushes, his blush climbing up his cheeks to the tips of his ears and he raises his hands in protest. “I don’t want to know how you can pronounce that perfectly, but please call me Stiles. I just-. I’m not here on official business or anything. My friend recommended the shop to me, and I thought that I would check it out and-.” His scent sours slightly in embarrassment, and the energy around him sparks. “I didn’t know that Ryker was going to make a break for it. I mean, he does really like sweets, but I didn’t think he was going to do this. He’s usually well behaved. I’m so sorry.”
He's not like the other mages that Derek has met. No, Stiles is energetic and loud, and maybe a little clumsy. The mages that Derek has known in the past have always been slightly stuffy and far too professional, even in casual situations. But even with the extraordinary power emanating from Stiles’ being, there is an enduring calmness to him that Derek is glad for.
Ryker stretches out before leaping down to the floor, but instead of going to Stiles’ side, he moves farther into the kitchen to sniff around. Derek doesn’t move to stop him, and Stiles groans.
“Ryker! Come on, dude. We’re trying to make good impressions here.” Gesturing wildly at the ruined cake, he sighs. “Although I’m sure that it’s too late for that.” He looks up at Derek through his eyelashes, and there is a pretty pink blush on his cheeks. “As soon as he gets done we can leave. He likes exploring new areas, especially when other supernatural beings are involved.” He scrubs at his forehead. “Although I guess I should be able to control him better. I’m sorry.”
Derek shrugs. Seeing him look so downtrodden, and smelling how his sweet scent sours even more makes his wolf growl in frustration and demand that Derek do something to make him feel better. He may not understand why his wolf cares so much, but he agrees that, whatever the reason, he doesn’t want to see the mage upset. “It’s alright. Don’t worry about it.”
Laura raises her eyebrows at him, and he ignores her. Stiles blinks in surprise. “But-. He stuck his face in your cake.”
Glancing down at the mess, Derek shrugs again. “It was already messed up. I’m not too worried about it.”
Stiles gaps at him for a moment, before Ryker reappears and barks at him. Instantly, Stiles’ frowns at the creature and crosses his arms. “Get over here. Your frolicking is done.” The fox barks again and coils himself around Derek’s ankles. Secretly, Derek preens at the fact that Ryker seems to like him. “No. You’ve already gotten in enough trouble. Plus, we have an appointment in an hour that we won’t be late to.”
Reluctantly, Ryker crosses the kitchen and climbs his way to Stiles’ shoulder. Laura tilts her head at the display. “I’ve never seen a mage act the way you do with your familiar.” There’s a question there though she doesn’t voice it.
Stiles smiles and answers anyway, running his fingers across the fox’s ears affectionately. “A lot of mages see their familiars as a source of power, which isn’t wrong necessarily. They are technically manifestations of power that aid us with our spells and rituals, but they’re more than that. They have their own identities, and are capable of far more than just following us around. Together we are one, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t exist separately. I’m not going to try and control his personality or erase his identity because it suits me.”
Laura narrows her eyes, scrutinizing him for a drawn out moment before she breaks into a smile. “I like you, Mage Stilinski. Let’s get you an order ready before you go, on the house.”
Looking slightly terrified by the sudden change in her demeanor, Stiles turns and follows Laura out of the kitchen. Derek wants to follow them, Gods how he wants too, but then he remembers how much he hates being out front. Not even seeing what cakes Stiles picks is enough temptation to get him to leave the kitchen (he doesn’t want to think too much about why he wants to know that information anyway).
Besides, Stiles leaves pretty quickly after exiting the kitchen. Derek can tell the moment he walks out the door, because the energy in the shop shifts again.
Suddenly, everything feels much too quiet. Trying not to think about it, Derek heaves a sigh and starts the batter to make a new cake. He can always ask Laura later about what Stiles picked.
Three days later, Derek is trying to perfect a recipe for a dark chocolate pomegranate cake when he’s interrupted by a knock on his door. Honestly, he’s thankful for the distraction. All he can do after he pulls the door open though is stare dumbfounded at Stiles, who is standing there, watching him through his eyelashes. He’s wearing a soft pink button up and dark gray slacks, and he looks good enough that Derek wants to bite.
As if guessing what he’s thinking, Ryker coils himself around the mage’s ankles and cackles at Derek. “Um.” Suddenly, with Stiles standing on his doorstep looking so nice, Derek is self conscious of his white tank top and ratty sweatpants, both of which are dusted with flour.
“Hello,” Stiles says, far too loudly, his voice cracking at the end of the word. Across the street, Derek sees Mr. Carter’s curtains pull to one side, and he barely holds back his sigh. Everyone in the neighborhood will know about his late night visitor before the night is through. Hell, Mrs. Carter will probably be waiting to talk to him about it first thing in the morning (the neighborhood is very invested in wanting Derek to be happy).
“Would you like to come inside,” he says, deciding to hell with the rumors.
Stiles’ eyes flare purple quickly enough that Derek almost misses it, and then he’s nodding. “Yes, thank you.”
Ryker leaps through the door as soon as Derek steps to the side, moving about the living room at a quick pace. Stiles rolls his eyes at the creature, but when Derek doesn’t put up any protests about the intrusion, he lets him be.
“So,” Derek starts while leading him into the kitchen. “Can I help you with something?”
Stiles winces. “Not really. And, uh. I guess I should probably apologize for tracking you down, but I promise that I have a good reason for it, okay?” Honestly, Derek hadn’t even questioned how Stiles found out where he lived, which, for a werewolf, is quite concerning. Having Stiles, a stranger, invade his home should bother him, but he almost feels more relaxed with him around. All of his annoyance from working on the recipe is gone.
Derek fills his kettle with water, hoping that tea will help calm Stiles down. It seems to help some; Stiles settles in at the table, running his hands gently over the wood, and exhales. His scent is all warm sweetness as Derek hands him a mug of green tea. “I know that you said that it wasn’t a big deal, but I wanted to apologize for what Ryker did.”
Settling across from him, Derek offers a smile. “I told you, the cake had already been ruined. It would have just gone to waste anyway.”
Stiles rolls his eyes. “Be that as it may, he never should have invited himself into your space like that. Not only is it rude and disrespectful, but then he went and took food from you without getting permission first.”
Ryker wanders into the kitchen and gives Stiles a dirty look before snooping around the new room. Stiles narrows his eyes at him, then meets Derek’s gaze. “So I’m sorry. On behalf of my familiar, I hope that you accept this apology.”
Derek feels his eyes flare blue in response to the declaration. “Of course I accept,” he says with a smile. Ryker bumps into his shin, barks once, then runs out of the room, and Stiles smiles, glancing down at where his hands are curled around his mug. “Good, I’m glad.” There’s a moment of silence between them, during which Derek tries to figure out how to ask the mage on a date, and then Stiles clears his throat. “There’s something else, actually.”
Sheepishly, Stiles pulls a bag out from underneath the table and sets it down where Derek can see. “Um. So, look. I know this isn’t anything like any of the cakes that you make, but it seemed like the best way to make up for what Ryker did at your shop.” From the bag, he reveals a box of cherry chip cake mix and a tub of cream cheese frosting.
Unbidden, Derek recalls a memory of his mother standing in their kitchen with a recently planted rose bush cradled in her hands, roots and all. His father had gasped in surprise at the sight of his wife, and Talia had glanced down at the floor, looking smaller than she ever had before. She had been trying to help him out by weeding their flower beds, but had somehow managed to accidentally pull out one of his father’s favorite plants. Instead of getting upset, Derek’s father had tipped his head back with laughter, kissed her forehead, and then helped her replant it without damaging the budding flowers. He had been charmed that she would go through so much trouble with something she didn’t know anything about just because it meant a lot to him. Thinking about his parents in that moment in relation to the box of cake mix on his table, Derek’s heart warms.
He pushes up from the table and starts pulling out clean bowls without saying anything, too busy thinking though everything he has in his cupboards to respond. He should have everything, should be able to-.
“Um? What are you doing?”
Derek smiles at Stiles over his shoulder, enjoying the way that it makes his heart stutter. “We’re going to make a cake,” he responds, like it’s obvious.
Stiles flushes and gets to his feet, raising his hands. “Oh man, that’s a bad idea. You definitely don’t want my help baking anything. I mean, even if it’s only a boxed mix, there’s so much that could go wrong that-.”
Derek hides his smile in the cupboards, rooting around until he finds what he’s looking for. “We’re going to do it from scratch.”
That seems to make Stiles panic. “You really don’t want my help then, trust me! I am probably the worst at baking, and burning down your house definitely wouldn’t win me any favors. I’m trying to charm you, not scare you away!”
Derek nearly drops his only jar of maraschino cherries. He stares at Stiles with an open mouth. “You’re trying to charm me?”
Stiles flails his arms in an attempt to backtrack. Ryker jumps onto the counter and cackles at the display, before curling up into a tight ball to watch them. “Not like magically! This isn't some weird attempt to put a spell on you or anything! First of all, that’s wrong on so many levels. It goes against everything that I stand for! I feel dirty just thinking about it. And, like, this was honestly meant as an apology. It has nothing to do with the fact that I think you’re kind of adorable, and I kind of want to hold your hand. Not that I don’t want to! But that’s not what I’m here for. And I don't expect you to want to do that with me just because I bought you a shitty cake mix! I just thought that it would be nice, and then maybe you wouldn’t hate me for what Ryker did. And then maybe we might be able to hang out or something later on, and you might come to like me too. Not that I expected that either, because I mean, you’re this cool werewolf baker with cute teeth and a great ass and I’m just this gangly mage. I mean, I’ve grown up a lot okay, and I don't think I’m bad looking or anything, but-.”
“Stiles.” Instantly the rambling trails off. The blush on Stiles cheeks shouldn’t be nearly so enduring, but Derek is positively charmed. “Let’s make a cake. I promise, it will turn out just fine.” He smiles in a sly way, and Ryker cackles again. “And if it doesn’t, I promise not to hold it against you on our date next Friday.”
It takes Stiles a moment to understand what he’s saying, but when he does, his smile is brighter than the sun. He claps his hands together, rubbing them in a manic way. “It’s a deal, big guy. Let’s get baking.”
Derek dips his head close and takes in a lungful of his sweet scent, allowing himself to bask in what this visit has turned in to. The neighbors are going to get a real kick out of this story, that’s for sure.
Baking with Stiles is fun. He really doesn’t know much about it except that you put ingredients in a bowl and mix them together, but he listens when Derek explains his process, and leans close to him while they work. It’s fun and easy going, and Derek is glad that Stiles is here with him.
The cake they make is slightly lopsided on one side, and half of it is darker than the other, but it still tastes good. And later, when Stiles leans in for a kiss, his lips are as sweet as the cherries. Derek calls that a successful bake.
