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[Aw, come on, Derek. Make it be a thing. He will compliment your mad cooking skillz. Stiles snorted a laugh.] Oh, shut up. I smell wonderful.
[Stiles arches his eyebrows right back at Derek.] Yes. But that doesn't mean you have to slam the doors. That's impolite.
[Derek finishs getting everything ready and puts it on the table. Stiles pouts.] I need to get up now, don't I? [He huffs and climbs to his feet, shuffling into the kitchen/dining area. He pulls out one of the chairs and plops down in it.]