Derek climbed out of bed, and his moving around knocked Stiles out of his half-shock. He nodded at Derek's statement. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm done." Okay, so he wasn't really done. He was still emotionally and mentally processing what the fuck he'd just read-- not in a bad way, but in a holy shit, that was intense way. But he could still function, mostly. Stiles leaned over, picking up his shoes and pulling them on, tying then double knotting the laces so they didn't come undone during the move.
He pushed his hands against his knees, rising to his feet. He tucked his hands into his pockets, making sure he had his keys-- he did-- and started after Derek at the door. Derek asked that and Stiles couldn't help the little smile that curled up the corners of his mouth. Derek tried to fix it, then squinted at himself. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. He could feel the tension between them. The thing that didn't have a name, or it did and they didn't want to use it yet.
He reached up, patting Derek on his bicep. "You're adorable, you know that?" And then he was hot stepping out of the apartment because he knew that was gonna get him hit. Stiles strode down to the elevator, calling for it. The doors opened immediately, since no one else lived in the building. He stepped inside, leaning against the back wall and watching Derek for a second as he entered the elevator.