He watches the way Derek looks over at him when he's pulled off his shirt, determined to keep his eyes on his face and only slipping up a couple of times. It's impossible to read his expression, because nobody does poker face like a Hale, and there's nothing that makes Stiles more twitchy than not knowing what Derek's thinking.

Hell, he doesn't even get why he's being pressed about Lydia so much, and it's making him squirmy. As if he doesn't have a laundry list of faults that he's well aware of already. So he had a crush. Things have changed.

He shifts his weight from foot to foot, awkwardly gesturing toward the bathroom door. "I can make you some real food while you clean up. I think we still got some stuff for sandwiches."