potosi | or say we're only dreaming;

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or say we're only dreaming;

O P E N P O S T
❝ don't you dare close your eyes❞
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[ Fundraising for Beacon Elementary is probably Stiles' least favorite part about being a teacher. The older kids are expected to try and sell candles or magazine subscriptions or whatever BS the administration is trying to get them to pawn off on their unsuspecting families, and the younger kids--and their teachers, usually--are left floundering trying to make up the missing amount in their yearly budgets. Fundraising buys things like new crayons (the ones that are nontoxic, preferably), and new storybooks, and more activities and toys and games for the kids--it buys them so it doesn't have to come directly out of Stiles' pockets. He loves the kids and does usually end up spending a couple hundred bucks a month to keep his supplies replenished, but when it comes down to it, he's broke. Teachers barely get paid, anyway.

So when the ~genius~ idea had occurred to him, Stiles had suggested it to his very enthusiastic parents at a PTA meeting--god bless this crop of parents, seriously, aside from the ones who were asking him about their kid's college prowess in kindergarten, they were a great bunch--that they have a bake sale to support his classroom. He'd locked eyes with Laura Hale for half a second and she gave him an absolutely devious look before she'd raised her hand to agree, and Stiles would be mortified if he wasn't a tiny bit excited.

He shoots a text off to Hot Chef Guy (and now known local) Derek Hale, before he even gets home. ]

You're about to hate me for the next thirty six hours. :)

[ He even saw Laura sign Derek up to volunteer. Perfect.

The day of the bake sale dawns warm and clear, and Stiles is running on about an hour of sleep--he's got a huge pile of cookies in his apartment, now, from red velvet cake cookies to peppermint pinwheels to plain old chocolate chip, and he is ready to tackle the battlefield, which is outside of a local Starbucks.

Stiles is a genius, thank you.

He sets up the table, throws a bright tablecloth with plastic pockets that held the kids' artwork over it, and gets to work setting out his own display of cookies, plus prices. (50 cents, or a donation of their choosing.) Parents are milling around helping set up within a couple minutes, and excited kindergarteners are having to be corralled into helping. At this point, Stiles is just hoping he actually makes a profit and that only about half of the cookies get eaten by the kids. ]

[ Derek looks at his phone warily when it goes off, sees the text on his lock screen before it disappears, and wonders what he's about to get himself into.

He legitimately does hate Stiles for thirty-six hours, because Laura comes home with the most manic grin on her face and barges into his apartment instead of hers like a bat out of hell. And she absolutely does use her daughter against him, sending Talia over to him to make big eyes until he complies with their requests. ]

May every cookie you eat give you indigestion.

[ But when push comes to shove, Derek arrives and parks his Cruiser close by to where the tables have been set up. Not in a place that'll block potential customer traffic, but somewhere where he has easy access to his car. He cracks his windows, hoping the warm and clear weather won't give way to rain suddenly but that this will prevent anything from melting, and gets out of the car.

He's roped Talia and a couple of friends into helping him, so the moment that he gets out of the car he calmly moves to the passenger side, opening the door and taking the tupperware containers out of his niece's lap so that she can climb out. But the moment that she's out, he's giving the baked goods back to her so that she can skip off to Stiles, cheerfully calling out with a "Mr. Stiles!" to him as she goes.

Next comes the three little girls in the backseat, and he helps them out in much the same way he did the littlest Hale. It's like he's turned around and gone from an army of housewives to an army of girl scouts, all of which head over to where Stiles has set up the tables with things that Derek had been making all the way up to twenty minutes ago.

He stays at the Cruiser for a moment, popping open the trunk door to survey the rest of his haul, making sure that nothing got tipped over on the drive to the Starbucks. ]

[ Stiles definitely grins at the text message when he gets it, elbow deep in his own flour--guess that meant Derek was coming along. And sure enough, it's while he's busy setting up their little price cards, bright red cards with white centers that he worked hard on, dammit, Talia Hale comes running towards him with more baked goods. Stiles opens his mouth in a grin at her and kneels down to take the cookies from her, peeking through the lid. ]

Wow, Talia, did you bake these all by yourself? They're amazing! [ He exaggerates on purpose, because he knows the answer, and takes them to set them on the table carefully. Locking eyes with one of the mothers, he gives a smile and jerks over his shoulder with his thumb towards the cruiser nearby, muttering that the moms are better at food presentation than him and he's just gonna. Yeah.

And, awkward excuse made, he skitters across the parking lot and leans on the frame of the cruiser, looking into the trunk and trying to pretend the stupid flutter his heart does when he sees Derek doesn't exist. Act natural. Luckily, the food itself is a good distraction, and he lets out a long, low whistle. ] Damn, how late were you up last night?

I made a lotta 'em! [ Or, well, Derek will allow her to think that. She certainly helped, for much of the first two hours that the baking happened. But either way, Talia beams up at her teacher before she goes to help-- or make an attempt thereof-- because her mother's told her plenty about when her uncle and teacher are in the same space. Usually it's best to just get out of the way and become busy when they start up.

Said uncle turns his head a little as he hears heavier footsteps approaching him, raising his eyebrows in amusement as Stiles leans against his car. Popping open one of the containers, he withdraws a chocolate cookie with peanut butter chips, casually proffering it without a care in the world. It's from the most recent batch, so there's still a warm softness to it compared to the room temperature the rest are at. ]

I haven't slept. Eat a cookie before everyone else gets into them. [ Of course he says that like it's nothing in the world, but Derek knows that most people don't stay up all night and day making cookies for their niece's bake sale. Most parents don't do that.

He maybe wanted to give Stiles plenty of stock to sell, considering he knows how much he pays out of pocket for his class. And maybe he wanted to show off. ]

[ Apparently his parents didn't really mind that he disappeared for a second, and Stiles is kind of dumbly grateful--he pauses for a second as suddenly his senses are filled with cookie and his eyebrows go up before he grins and takes the proffered food, inhaling it with only the speed of someone on approximately two hours of sleep can really manage. He chews it, swallows, and then makes a noise. ] Ughhh, would it be totally counterproductive if I just bought the whole table myself?

[ He already knows the point of that question, and Stiles winks at him and reaches for a couple of the tupperwares, peeking in the lids before picking them up, rolling up his sleeves to get out of the way. ] So you stayed up until...now, making cookies for your niece's bake sale. Sounds like you're--[ And he pauses for dramatic effect ] nice, Derek. Like softer-than-cookie-dough nice.

[ Please to be ignoring the little flush across his cheekbones. ]

[ Waiting for him to take the cookie, Derek reaches to grab a few of the muffin tins with both muffins and cupcakes in them, balancing them with a practiced ease on top of a few tupperware containers that he settles on his bicep. He's catered one too many times for friends and associates and at Laura's request that he's used to this by now. He should also be used to people gushing over his food, but Stiles doing it makes him preen. (Also he shouldn't make those noises, Jesus.) ] Yes, it would be. I'll save you some for later, c'mon.

[ He nudges at him as he reaches to grab some more baked goods, watching with a distracted sort of interest as he rolls his sleeves up. That's way too interesting a sight for something so mundane. But Stiles poking fun at him brings his attention back, and his eyebrows twitch up again. ] I know, it's shocking isn't it? To learn that the hot guy on youtube is actually nice.

[ Still, he disregards the warmth that dusts across his neck and reaches up to close his trunk, effectively hiding the rest of the stock for now. ]

Don't act so surprised, dude, you've got this weird aura about you. [ He makes a noncommittal gesture with his right hand, waving in Derek's general direction and making an overly exaggerated face at the thought. ] Like the I drive an expensive car and frown at small children just to terrify them kind of thing.

[ But his expression belies that he obviously knows that isn't true. Stiles grins at him and hitches the pile of tupperware in his arms up a little so he doesn't drop it and turns back towards the table, flashing a grin at Derek. ] So what'd you bring, Mister-I-Have-My-Own-Cooking-Youtube-Channel? I'm expecting to be impressed.

Ah, yes. That's my favorite hobby, bar none. [ Except the only people Derek ever makes a point of scaring are adults, and children tend to get the smiles and goofy faces instead. He gives Stiles a dry look, but there's a twinge of fondness to the edges of it regardless. Locking his car and sticking his keys into his jacket pocket, he makes his way over to carry the goods to the table.

Setting everything down, he starts to open things up, taking care not to make a mess with the plastic wrap that's been spread over the cupcakes and muffins. Instead of balling it up and pitching it, though, he holds it out to Stiles to have the icing that sticks to it. ]

In these containers? [ He looks at everything, and begins pointing to each individual thing. ] The chocolate cookies with peanut butter chips, triple chocolate cookies with an advisory label to not eat without milk, gingersnaps, snickerdoodles, orange zest muffins, cookies and cream cupcakes, and Boston creme pie cupcakes.

Edited (AND THEN I NOTICED I FUDGED UP MY CODING WHILE POSTING THE SCOTT PROMPT fuuuu) 2014-02-01 02:10 (UTC)

[ Stiles' jaw drops open as Derek continues to list. And list. And list. ] H-ooooly jesus, we're going to have the most gourmet bake sale in Beacon County.

[ And he's so thankful, so pleased, so--a little proud of himself for making the effort to connect with Derek. Because since day one, the kindergarten teacher had found this weird sense of camaraderie with the guy who looked like a serial killer but had the best cooking channel on youtube, who brought him lunch every now and then at work, and who texted him hangover recipes when he was whining in bed alone on Sunday nights. Derek had even, hell, taken care of him while he was drunk.

God.

The crush he had on the dude was astronomical, and the fact that he was showing up with this much for his frickin' kindergartners bake sale was...well, it was a lot for Stiles' heart to handle this bright and early in the morning.

Immediately, he takes the plastic wrap, and spreads it out wide to lick it clean like a classy adult. ]

That's only what's out here. There's also lemon meringue cookies, cherry almond muffins, strawberry lemonade cupcakes, chocolate raspberry crisps... [ Derek squints down at everything, considering. ] Pumpkin spice cake loaf slices...

I think that's everything. Possibly. I lost track of everything. [ He shrugs, like it really isn't a big deal. But he knows that it's a big deal, because who stays up all night and morning to make such a collection of baked goods for a kindergarten bake sale? It isn't even for his own kid, for as much as he'd helped raise Talia.

But it was also for Stiles, because he knows how much comes out of his pocket for these kids. He's a bit of a dork, sarcastic and rude when the kids and parents aren't looking, but they just... Clicked. And the kindergartners mean a lot to him, so.

He winds up staring as he licks the plastic wrap, distracted. ] Wow, that's attractive.

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or say we're only dreaming;

pulls up your throne

fluffs it up

puts a crown on you

tips it

all hail king hale uwu

Don't make me want king AUs.

Oops.

SIGHS

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