#kid derek

The two of them sprinted towards the pantry, each grabbing a metal basket and stacking their ingredients inside. They hurried back to the kitchenettes and began to prep their meals.

After a while, Gordon walked over to the two benches, watching what they were doing. He stopped in front of Stiles’ bench and asked, “What are you making, Stiles?”

“I’m making cream cheese Rangoon for the appetiser, standing beef rip with onion gravy and sweet potato chips for the main, and a strawberry brûlée for desert,” Stiles answered.

“That sounds divine,” Gordon said. “I’m going to come back when you start making that brûlée because I want to taste it.”

He made his way over to Derek’s work station.

“I’m making shredded beef sliders for an appetiser, a vegetarian lasagna with eggplant and capsicum for the main, and a black forest berry cake for desert,” Derek said.

“Wow. You two really know what you’re doing,” Gordon complimented. “I can’t wait to taste these when they’re done.”

A short while later, Stiles saw Derek frantically searching his bench for something. He moved the bowls around, checking shelves and under other ingredients.

“What are you looking for?” Stiles called out to him.

“Eggs,” Derek replied. “I swear I grabbed them.”

“How many do you need?” Stiles asked, setting down the knife he was using to slice the wonton sheets for the Rangoon.

“Three,” Derek answered.

“Here,” Stiles said, opening up the carton of eggs he had on the counter.

Derek held out his hands, ready to catch them.

“Really?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah.”

“Fine,” Stiles said. “But if you drop them, it’s your fault. One—”

He tossed the egg to Derek.

Derek caught it, setting it aside in an empty bowl as Stiles counted and tossed the next one.

“Two.”

Another catch.

“Three.”

Derek caught the egg, setting it aside.

“Thank you,” he called to Stiles as he turned back to his bench and set to work.

The kids who watched on from the balcony applauded them.

On the podium, Gordon blinked in surprise.

“They’re so in sync,” he said, shocked.

“Can you imagine them doing that in a few years’ time when they inevitably end up together?” Graham remarked.

The comment made Gordon smile.

Time seemed to fly by as Stiles and Derek set to work, putting their meals together and cooking them. Before they knew it, Joe gave them a ten-minute warning to finish their dishes and plate up.

The voices echoed about the room as everyone began to count down.

“Five... Four... Three... Two... One.”

“Time’s up,” Joe announced.

Stiles and Derek stepped back from their benches.

Stiles practically collapsed on the floor.

“Derek,” Graham called. “Could you please bring your dishes to the front of the room?”

Derek did, setting his dishes down on the table before the judges.

“Remind us again, what did you cook?” Joe prompted.

“I made shredded beef sliders for the appetiser, a vegetarian lasagna with eggplant and capsicum for the main, and a black forest berry cake for desert,” Derek answered.

One by one, the judges tasted the dishes, nodding thoughtfully.

“I like the way you balanced the density with the dishes,” Graham said. “You gave us a moderately heavy appetiser that was full of flavour, then a light main, and a moderately heavy desert to finish it off.”

“I agree,” Gordon said. “I especially love how you balanced the flavours; none of it was bland, and none of it was overpowering. And that black forest berry cake was divine. I was surprised at how light it was. Usually black forest berry cakes are dense and rich. But that was just perfect.”

“Thank you, Derek. You can go back to your bench.”

Derek thanked them and returned to the small kitchenette.

“Good job,” Stiles whispered to him.

“Thank you.”

“Stiles,” Gordon called. “Can you please bring your dishes to the front?”

Stiles did, setting the plates down on the table and taking a step back. He balled his hands into fists at his sides, his racing heart hammering in his chest.

“What did you make for us?” Joe prompted.

“I made cream cheese Rangoon for the appetiser, standing beef rip with sweet onion gravy and sweet potato chips for the main, and a strawberry brûlée for desert,” Stiles said.

The judges took their time tasting the dishes, nodding thoughtfully as they savoured each mouthful.

“The Rangoon was perfect,” Graham said. “It was golden and had the perfect amount of crunch to it. The beef rib was full of flavour and dense enough to feel like a main meal while also being light enough that it didn’t make you feel weighed down. And served with those sweet potato chips it was delicious.”

“That was sublime,” Gordon added. “That strawberry brûlée was the perfect mix of sweet and tart. Everything was cooked to perfection.”

“You’ve done great, Stiles,” Joe said. “You can go back to your bench now.”

Stiles thanked them and returned to the small kitchenette.

The judges turned to face each other, talking quietly as they deliberated.

“You did great,” Derek whispered.

“So did you,” Stiles replies.

“That strawberry brûlée looks incredible,” Derek said.

“Do you want to try it?” Stiles asked, picking up a small spoon and ne of the extra deserts he had plated up.

Derek offered him a plate of black forest berry cake.

“That looks so good,” Stiles said, digging into it with a teaspoon.

There was a quiet echo of laughter throughout the room as others watched the two of them lean over the bench, snacking on the deserts.

“Oh my god, that’s delicious,” Stiles said.

“This is incredible,” Derek said, licking the cream off his lips.

He judges looked up, unable to hide their smiles when the boys set down the deserts and smiled mischievously.

“Stiles, Derek, please come down to the front of the room.”

They set down the deserts and made their way to the podium.

Stiles felt his throat tighten. His heart hammered against his ribs.

They stood side by side, close enough that Derek could reach out slightly and brush his hand against Stiles’ reassuringly.

“Believe us when we say that this is the hardest competition we’ve ever had to judge,” Gordon said. “The two of you have risen to every challenge, you’ve brought incredible dishes to the table time and time again. You have both made your families proud and I hope that you’re both proud of yourselves.”

“But sadly, there can only be one winner.” Joe paused, letting the heavy silence settle over them. “And that winner won by a hair’s breadth.”

There was another intense pause.

Stiles held his breath.

“Stiles…”

He met Joe’s gaze, trying to read his thoughts.

“You are the winner of this year’s competition.”

The room erupted in applause.

Derek turned, pulling Stiles into his arms and holding him tight.

Stiles hugged him back, feeling relief flood over him.

Slivers of golden confetti rained down around them.

Tears welled in his eyes as he drew back, his face flushed red. He turned and looked up at where his Dad stood, watching him from the balcony with eyes full of pride.

Stiles turned and looked at Derek.

Derek smiled back at him, his pale aventurine eyes full of joy.

“Congratulations,” Gordon said. “Both of you.”