action
[He would say 'you're welcome' but that just invites the possibility that Stiles is welcome to have him cooking all the time and he's not about to let that become a thing.
He huffs faintly at his retort.] It's pungent. [Not that Stiles' scent is bad, no one's scent is bad. He's used to the familiar smell now, and it's comforting in a really strange place, not that he'll tell him that.
Derek looks over his shoulder at him, raising his eyebrows.] Do you want food or not? Because if you want it, then I'm going to need to find plates.
[He huffs again and turns back, eventually getting the plates out and starting to serve up the food. He takes a moment to fry some bread too and once everything is ready he brings it over to the table, setting two plates down and going back to the fridge, filling two glasses with orange juice, grabbing cutlery on the way back and setting everything down.]