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“Fine.” Derek watched Stiles walk away, pleased that his partner had seen the sense in his plan. He turned to see that Peter was watching him from the spiral staircase, a pitying look on his face. Peter said nothing, simply staring at Derek until he finally broke under his regard.
“What? You obviously have something you want to say so why don’t you just spit it out!”
“Are you seriously going to leave things there?”
“What? With Stiles? He’s fine – he just said so!” Derek scoffed.
“Jesus, Derek, it’s almost like you don’t even know him! Fine does not mean that he’s happy and willing to go along with your less than stellar plan. Fine said in that tone generally means that you will be sleeping on the couch, presumably after Stiles has rescued your dumb ass from the consequences of your actions.” Peter smirked. “Fine is Stiles’ ass in those jeans. Fine means the rest of us get to watch you grovelling for at least the next week.”
Derek scowled, ready to tear Peter’s head off for his comment about Stiles’ ass (which did look fine in those jeans) before he realised the truth of Peter’s words.
“Well shit!”