This is the closest that the two of them have ever been together, and Derek is shirtless and nuzzling him and offering him food. This would be awesome, if it weren't for the way he's pretty much crippled by all modes of intelligent thought right now beyond oh my god. The two of them nuzzle, bump foreheads, touch. Pack stuff, he's always told himself. This is different, and he can feel it.

It's pretty far from terrible.

Derek seems happy, though, and not much in a mood for talking - less so than he normally is - so who is Stiles to complain or question a good thing? He goes a little cross eyed, looking down at Derek's hand, and carefully takes the steak from him in his teeth, making an appreciative sound and licking his lips. "Thanks, alpha." He smiles, hoping that the gratitude comes across for Derek's wolf, and just leans into his arm, getting comfortable and trying not to feel as awkward as he, uh. Does. He is the worst with crushes. Like, seriously. The worst.