#shout out to lydia for giving me a fresh excuse to call off work and class even tho we're actually negative and fine

[munamania]

caught the roommate's weather segment on the college radio this morning :3

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @happynglad!

Hope you enjoy this!

Read on AO3

*****

I Love You a Latte

Stiles was in a rush. Again. One day he would actually get out of bed at the right time and not have to run around to risk not being late to work. Luckily, he lived in an apartment complex directly above a café which just happened to be owned by his long-term boyfriend who anticipated his lateness every morning and got his terrifying lovely co-worker to make a coffee and keep it warm for when he finally arrived.

Stiles swept into the coffee shop, throwing his backpack onto an empty seat and making bee-line for the till. He had a later shift that morning so arrived at the café just as it was calming down after its crazy early-morning rush. And as expected, there on the counter was a steaming takeaway cup with his name written on the side in thick black marker, even decorated with a little heart dotting the ‘i’. Stiles reached for it eagerly, ignoring Erica’s badly-disguised mutterings about unhealthy obsessions from where she stood behind the till. He groaned obscenely at the first sip of the motor-oil-like substance that he preferred, his hands gripping the cup tightly as his eyes fell closed.

Erica looked on in amusement; “would you like to take that coffee into the back room?” She asked with a wink.

“If I wasn’t so late I would probably take you up on that offer,” Stiles replied before burying his face in the cup and taking another sip. “But I will gladly marry you for making me this cup of coffee.”

“Normally I’d jump at that chance, sweet-cheeks,” Erica said with a wicked smirk, “but I didn’t make that drink this morning.”

“Well,” Stiles shrugged, wrapping his hands tighter around the cup, “I’ll marry whoever did.”

“Deal,” came a familiar voice. Stiles’ eyes shot open to see Derek walking out of the kitchen. He headed over to the counter, dusting his hands off on his apron and smiling up at his boyfriend.

“What?” Stiles spluttered.

“It wasn’t exactly the most romantic proposal in the world – certainly not what I’d dreamt of – but I’ll take it,” Derek said lightly. He shrugged his shoulders and smiling charmingly, leaning down to rest his elbows on the countertop.

“What?” Stiles repeated, his eyes darting between Erica and his boyfriend, both of them watching him with matching smirks. “You didn’t make this,” Stiles said, pointing one finger at his coffee and narrowing his eyes at his partner.

“I did, actually,” Derek disagreed. “Wrote the name and everything.”

“You never make my coffee in the morning,” Stiles argued. “You say that it offends you to ruin coffee by making it so bitter and disgusting the way that I like it.” Derek nodded along in agreement as Stiles continued. “You always make Erica do it whilst you hide away and bake, or settle the books, or write the specials on the board, or make little girls cry.”

Derek pushed himself up to stand at Stiles’ words, rolling his eyes impressively. “For the last time, she was at least 18; she was not a little girl!”

“You did make her cry though,” Isaac said as he carried a fresh tray of muffins out from the kitchen and handed them to Erica to display in the glass case.

“That’s enough out of you,” Derek glared at the younger man, although it did nothing but bring forward a smirk. “Go check on the cookies before they burn. Make a start on some sandwiches too.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Isaac gave a cheeky salute to his boss and threw a wave at Stiles as he ducked back into the kitchen, not venturing too far from the door as he watched the exchange between the other men.

When Derek turned back to his partner, Stiles was still stood there in a state of shock. “You didn’t make this,” Stiles demanded. “Erica made this.”

“I did; you were so tired last night that I wanted to make it for you. I’d planned on bringing it back upstairs to you but I couldn’t leave because someone broke the oven!” Derek raised his voice and shouted the last part over his shoulder, rolling his eyes at whatever excuse Isaac was calling back. “But it’s fine,” he said, turning back to Stiles. “If you want to marry Erica instead of me, then you can be the one to tell Boyd.” Derek shrugged his shoulders as he nudged Erica away from where she was displaying the muffins wrong. (“Derek; I’ve worked here for five years.” “And yet every day I seem to have to tell you how to place the muffins in the display case.” It was an old argument…)

“My God, you two are sickening,” Erica commented with a roll of her eyes – apparently the only requirement to work in this shop was proof of a decent eye-roll. “I might just die from standing here.”

“Then move away and so some real work for once so I don’t have to fire you,” Derek threatened, looking away from his display and glaring at the girl that had somehow, without him realising what was happening, become one of the most important people in his life.

“Aw, sweetie! It’s sweet that you think that you could ever live without me,” she drawled as she moved around the counter to start wiping down the tables.

Derek shook his head and turned back to his boyfriend. “Alright, fine. I can see you’re regretting it, so I’ll give you a do-over if you want. I was going to propose anyway; your ring is in your sock drawer because I know you never go in there,” Derek said as he moved to take an order from a couple who had just walked in.

“What do you mean, I never go in there?” Stiles asked as he stepped aside to let the couple reach the counter. “I wear socks every day!”

Derek held up a finger as he took the order from his customers. “You wear my socks every day,” he disputed when he had finished. He signalled Erica to serve the customers at their table once they had been seated their order was ready.

“I do not steal your socks!” Stiles cried indignantly when Derek’s attention was back on him, causing the elder man to shoot a deadpan look over his shoulder as he worked the coffee machine.

“Stiles, you’re wearing mine right now.”

“No, I am not! They’re mine; see?” He pulled up his jeans to show the other man but stopped and squinted as he noted the pattern. “Oh no, wait. These ones are yours actually; my b.”

“Really; that’s what you’re focusing on?” Erica asked dryly as she came up behind Stiles to grab the drinks from Derek. “Your boyfriend accepted your half-assed and misdirected proposal and you’re arguing over whose socks you’re wearing?”

Stiles reached out a hand blindly to shut Erica up, his hand landing awkwardly on her face and covering part of her mouth, her nose and her left eye. “Shush. My brain is kinda working through some stuff here,” he said. Erica grimaced and took a step back, more than happy to remove herself from the situation. As Stiles pulled his hand back from where it was hanging loosely in the air he caught sight of the watch on his wrist and his stomach dropped.

“I am so late!” He cried, throwing his now-empty coffee cup at an unsuspecting Derek and grabbing his bag. “Man, if I’m late again… I mean, it’s only Lydia,” he said, slowing down and pausing thoughtfully. “She loves me too much to fire me, but she’ll probably post a really embarrassing picture of me and then –”

“Stiles,” Derek interrupted, walking around the counter to let Isaac take over at the till as the second rush of the day began to start. He waited until the younger man turned to him with a questioning gaze before he continued. “Go. To. Work.” He held out a paper bag with a couple of peace-offering muffins for the aforementioned Lydia and pointed to the door.

Stiles smiled gratefully and grabbed the bag, hitching his backpack onto one shoulder as he reached out for the second cup of coffee that Derek had produced from somewhere. Stiles’ face lit up as he took it, leaning forward to press his lips against Derek’s passionately.

“You are the best. Boyfriend. Ever!” Stiles declared between kisses, juggling the coffee, the muffins, and his bag, leaning into Derek’s steadying hand. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” Stiles said, struggling to pull himself away from kissing the other man.

Derek smiled against Stiles’ lips as he pushed gently at his shoulder. “I love you too, but you’re beyond late.”

Stiles’ eyes widened as they darted to the clock on the wall and let out a string of expletives. He left in a whirlwind, the bell above the door nearly breaking off as he did so. Derek chuckled to himself as he cleared some table tops and carried the trays into the kitchen. Suddenly was a commotion from the door, the poor bell ringing off its stand.

“That’s gonna be your boyfriend,” Erica called from the coffee machine without turning around.

And sure enough, it was. Derek moved out to the shop floor as Stiles dashed back into the shop with a wild look in his eyes, coffee and muffin-bag squashed into one hand and the other reaching out for Derek to get close enough to grab.

“I didn’t even say ‘yes’, did I?” He questioned, before halting for a second and squinting. “Wait, was I supposed to say ‘yes’? I guess you technically said ‘yes’ because I asked, but I didn’t actually consciously ask –”

He would have continued rambling if Derek hadn’t clamped a hand over his mouth and rolled his eyes. “I’m regretting it more and more with every word you say, and every minute you’re missing of work but yes; I did say ‘yes’... I might change my mind though. And this is definitely not going to be our story.”

“Nu uh!” Stiles cried, dislodging Derek’s hand as he jerked his head backwards to lock their gazes. “No take-backs! You said ‘yes’ and now you have to deal with it. We’re engaged now, and this is absolutely our story. I have really got to go now though!” he said as he pressed a kiss to Derek’s lips. Even with that he paused in the doorway and looked back over his shoulder. “Dad’s been holding on to your ring for a couple of months now anyway, so I’ll stop by on the way home and pick it up. Later, boo!”

Derek stood there for a moment or two in shock; this morning had been the weirdest one he’d had for a while – and he was dating Stiles Stilinski. Even though he’d been on the receiving end of possibly the worst-thought out and least romantic proposal ever and he’d turned around to see Isaac in hysterics as he waved at Stiles walking past the window, Erica clearly filming the whole exchange on her phone, and the vast majority of their regular customers smiling and clapping as they clued into what was happening (Erica), the damned smile on his face just would not go anywhere.