". . .what are you wearing?"
Derek's brows rose and he tipped his head curiously, listening to his pack arriving and greeting each other and only half paying attention to the pizzas he was cutting.
"Scott got it for me!" Stiles said brightly, and Derek's lips curled. He should have known, though, from Erica's mocking, but still playful tone if nothing else. "Isn't it awesome?"
"I didn't know he'd wear it." Scott said more quietly.
"Scott, man, how long have you known me?" Stiles asked loudly, half-laughing, and Scott laughed too.
"All right, I knew you'd wear it." Scott admitted, and Derek quashed a smile and put aside the pizza cutter. He left the food in the kitchen - for one thing, if he brought it out before everyone was here someone would probably miss out - and leaned against the doorframe, watching his pack.
From this angle Stiles looked much like his normal self - wearing a pair of battered jeans, a black tee shirt, and his red hoodie in one arm like he'd just shed it.
"What have you done now?" Derek asked dryly. Erica threw him a grin and bounced over to settle on the arm of one of the heavy armchairs. Boyd, leaning against the back of it, toyed with one of her curls absently.
Stiles spun to face Derek. "I am a majestic flamingo!" he crowed, throwing his hands up and grinning. "Majestically awkward, perhaps! But nevertheless." He tugged at the hem of his shirt, straightening it out. There was a bright pink flamingo on it, one foot twisted above it awkwardly and feathers fluffing off it in every direction. The words MAJESTICALLY AWKWARD framed it.
"It's majestically broken, maybe." Derek observed, crossing his arms, and his lips twitched as Stiles turned a theatrically betrayed expression on him. "Nothing alive should move that way. Not on purpose." he added, lips quirking.
"Flamingos are flexible Derek." Stiles said, lifting his jaw. "And so am I." he added with a sly grin, slipping past Derek into the kitchen. One of his fine-boned hands skimmed over Derek's belly and he jumped, stiffening. "What's for dinner?" he asked, then immediately after- "Ooo, awesome."
"You aren't that flexible." Derek said quietly as he followed Stiles back into the kitchen, clearing his throat when his voice came out a little thick.
Stiles glanced over his shoulder, already snitching a piece of pizza. Derek should probably scold him for that, but he ignored it. "How do you know? Maybe I am." Stiles said, waggling his eyebrows.
Derek coughed in an attempt to hold back laughter. "You aren't." he said. "Also, that kind of- That's not sexy flexible," he said, rubbing the heel of one hand over his cheek as he felt it warm, "that's dear-god-are-you-okay flexible."
Stiles laughed through his mouthful of pizza. "All right, fair." he said before swallowing it. "Do you deny that I am-"
"Majestically awkward?" Derek said, smiling. Stiles grinned back at him, puffing up his chest under the ridiculous flamingo - of course Scott had gotten it for him.
"Sure." Derek agreed, rolling his eyes. "You're . . . something all right." he teased.
Stiles was something . . . yes. Awkward, definitely, but a kind of odd grace all his own had crept into his lanky, awkward movements as he left adolescent clumsiness behind. Now he drew the eye - especially Derek's - even more.
Stiles' flash of a smile suggested he knew at least the direction of Derek's thoughts.
The sound of mostly companionable laughter being overtaken by a squabble from the front room quickly distracted them both, however, and Stiles' smile shaded with amusement and promise. "I'll start bringing these through, yeah?" he asked, and Derek nodded. "Later, Sourwolf." he added, winking.
Derek snorted, but he was still smiling a little when he ducked out to join the rest of his pack - just in time to catch Isaac around the waist and drag him backwards before he could punch Jackson.
"What is going on?" he snapped, with a low snarl, and Isaac tried to shake him off, then ducked his head with an apologetic grumble. Jackson's teeth were bared, but after a moment he stepped back, dropping his gaze. Derek bit back frustration and another growl and-
"Hey! Hungry werewolves makes for a tense pack meeting, yeah?" Stiles interrupted, stepping between them and catching everybody's attention as he dropped food onto the table in the middle of the room. "I'm sure everyone will settle once we eat and get started, right?" he narrowed his eyes at the room in general.
A few more quiet words, Scott and Isaac deputised to bring the rest of their dinner through, and fifteen minutes later everyone was indeed settled peaceably. Derek sighed, relieved and grateful, and nudged Stiles lightly, settling beside him.
This was written for a prompt submitted by an anon Mousie on my Tumblr (where I am currently accepting prompts for some fandoms) for 'majestically awkward'. The shirt described herein is what I came across poking the internet to help me with ideas for that prompt - and, the Mousie informs me, precisely where the prompt idea came from.