(+7 years) Derek has a habit of leaving little notes hidden in odd places around the house. Stiles likes to be reminded that Derek loves him when he opens his boxes of pop tarts.

Stiles padded into the kitchen, yawning hugely as he rubbed his eyes and tugged on the waistband of his pyjama pants where they were slipping off his hips. He frowned when he saw that his brand new box of S'mores pop tarts had already been opened and snatched the box off the counter, getting ready to yell at Derek for stealing his food; grabbing hold of the box, he raised an eyebrow when he realised it was open but that nothing had been taken from it.

He pulled out two of the foil wrapped packages, smiling knowingly when a folded piece of brown paper fell out from between them. He pushed it to one side as he unwrapped his pop tarts and dropped them in the toaster, throwing away the empty wrappers and putting the box back in place before he opened the note. He smoothed it out on the counter, realising it had been torn off a grocery bag. As he read, a warm rush of happiness and contentment surged through him, the words "i love you. even if you do eat shit food all the time and make a mess of the kitchen. you're still my everything. always will be. D. xxx" scrawled in black sharpie across the paper. The toaster popped up suddenly, jerking him out of his little bubble of happiness and he re-folded the note hurriedly, shoving it in the pocket of his pyjama pants before grabbing his pop tarts from the toaster and heading for the lounge.

"You're a dork, Hale!" Stiles shouted up the stairs, taking a huge bite out of his pop tart and cursing when the filling burnt his tongue. "An adorable one, but a dork none the less!"

He wandered into the lounge, stretching out on the comfier of the two couches, plate balanced on his bare chest as he waited for his pop tarts to cool down.

Once he was finished, he flicked on the TV, shoving his empty plate on the coffee table and settled back to watch Food Network until Derek surfaced.

"Dork." Stiles said quietly as he heard the lounge door open. He tilted his head back on the arm of the couch and smiled up at Derek.

"I'm your dork." Derek replied with a shy smile, leaning down and giving him a quick kiss before grabbing the remote from Stiles' unresisting hand and muting the TV. "You taste like marshmallow."

"You taste like a dork." Stiles grinned as Derek sat down on the floor and leant back against the couch. "But it's all good, I still love you." He shuffled closer to Derek, draping one arm over his bare shoulder and stroking his stomach lightly. Derek made a contented little noise in response, tilting his head back until it rested against Stiles' chest and closing his eyes. Stiles curled in towards him, his attention dividing between absent mindedly watching the muted TV and planting fleeting kisses over Derek's shoulder and neck, fingers tangled in his sleep tousled hair. He was pretty sure there was no better way to be spending his Saturday morning than this.

. o o o .