Sterek One Shots (boyxboy)

White Chocolate Cheesecake

White Chocolate Cheesecake by Loslote
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When Stiles first decided to major in Anthropology, he maybe went a little overboard with the archaeology theme. He wore an Indiana Jones fedora for about a month straight. It wasn't until Lydia ripped it off his head and informed him that she was going to burn it because he looked like a hipster brony and anyway you can't wear a brown hat with black hipster glasses, for fuck's sake, Stiles, what were you thinking?

So now he wore plaid and hipster glasses and beanies and worked at a local coffee shop with weird art on the walls and colored mood lighting, and no one ever believed him when he said he was going to be an archaeologist. Oh well. Looking out the windows with a shiver, Stiles thought to himself that it was almost worth it just so he had an excuse to stay inside where it was warm. He watched other students venturing out into the frigid Boston snowstorms all bundled up like prairie school children while he stayed right next to the espresso machine with a hot cup of coffee in one hand and a textbook in the other. If this was how hipsters lived, Stiles had no problem being one.

Stiles shivered when he felt a rush of cold air. He turned around to see a tall, broad, extremely muscled man in a black leather jacket step in amid a flurry of snowflakes. The man's stubble and dark hair framed piercing hazel eyes. He held his hands in his pockets, and he glared out from beneath thick, furrowed eyebrows. His eyes landed on Stiles and pierced right through him as though Stiles were the only thing standing in between this man and his coffee, and Stiles gulped and...yep. Knocked over his coffee.

"Can I...Can I help you?" Stiles asked, dropping his textbook on the counter and dabbing at the coffee stains on his flannel.

"Sixteen ounce white chocolate cheesecake mocha," the man said after glancing at the menu board. His voice was higher than Stiles had expected, and softer. He smiled, and as his eyebrows lifted, Stiles could have sworn he heard a choir of angels burst into song. "Hold the whip, please."

"I'll hold your whip," Stiles garbled.

"Sorry?" the man said, looking confused.

"Sorry!" Stiles yelped. "Sorry, sorry. So, um, you said a medium mocha with white chocolate syrup and cheesecake syrup, no whip?"

"Yeah," the man said, blushing faintly. "You, uh...you have cheesecake, right?"

Stiles felt like saying no would be equivalent to crushing this poor man's hopes and dreams. No one with biceps like that should ever have their hopes and dreams crushed. "Yeah, we've got some in the back. I'll be just a second," he assured him.

"Thanks," the man said with a smile as he turned to set up camp at one of the tables. Stiles spent a very productive couple of seconds ogling his ass before diving into the terrifying mess that was the spare syrup drawer.

The man's beautiful ass was worth even the unexpected sticky hand from a leaky bottle of coffee flavored coffee syrup. Stiles really didn't know why they ever paid actual money for that.

White Chocolate Cheesecake guy moaned when he took a sip, his eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy. Stiles whimpered manfully when he saw the man throw his head back, his throat working to swallow down the mouthful of coffee.

Some things mortal man was just not meant to withstand.

\_/

Stiles carefully poured steam milk into a hazelnut latte, slowly pulling the stream backwards while swaying from side to side, beaming as the last drops left a perfect flower pattern in the latte.

The man who'd ordered the hazelnut latte put one hand over his phone and glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, hey, and I'll have whipped cream with that. Thanks."