"...yeah," he says, slowly, as if speaking to a small child. "...and they're in my bedroom."
It says something that it takes him a moment work though what Derek had thought instead.
"...wait, did you..." Stiles licks his lip, his gaze trailing down Derek's body as his cheeks flush, because he can't meet his eyes. Not that looking at Derek's body was any better, really, when he looked like that. Did he actually own any shirts that fit? Jesus.
"...did you think I asked you over to hook up?" He is exceptionally proud that his voice doesn't actually crack, though it does go higher. Because holy shit, was that an option?