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Derek carried the pizza boxes into the house. He hadn’t placed the order, but his nose already told him there would be an argument within minutes of him getting back inside the house. He honestly believed that Scott did it just to start trouble. The bastard could be passive-aggressive as hell when he felt like it. He just hoped the extra pizza he’d tagged on at the last minute would bring some peace.
Pushing open the door, he already heard the arguing in the living room. Shaking his head, he moved towards the dining room, set the boxes down, and took a step backward before being bowled over by Liam, who practically leaped onto the table to grab a box before anyone else had even entered the room.
“Scott, I’ve told you a million times. I am not a fan of pineapple on pizza,” Stiles said, storming into the room and glaring at the boxes as if he could see through the cardboard.
Scott followed him with a smirk on his face as his nostrils flared, giving Derek a strange look. “Why don’t you like it?” he said as he moved closer to the table, sniffing audibly.
“Why don’t I like it? I just don’t like it.” Stiles grabbed the nearest box and opened the lid, picking it up and slamming it back on the table, his lips curving in a smile. “I am adamantly against it! Like, this is something I feel strongly about,” Stiles said, jabbing a finger at the offending pizza and dislodging a piece of pineapple so that it went flying toward Scott, who nabbed it and popped it into his mouth.
“Yum,” Scott said.
“I hate Hawaiian pizza,” Stiles growled, reaching for the next box.
Derek smirked as he moved closer to glance over Stiles’ shoulder as he opened the box, waiting. Stiles pushed the lid of the box open and let out a shout. “What the fuck is that?”
Derek pressed his lips together as the rest of the Pack gathered around to look into the box. “Pickle, bacon, ranch,” Derek said.
Stiles turned to look at him, eyes wide and mouth opening and closing around nothing as his cheeks flared red. “I’m sorry. Pickles? On pizza?”
Derek nodded, laughing as Stiles reached for the box, but Isaac grabbed it out of his way, already shoving a slice in his mouth with a surprised look. “Delicious,” he said through the bite he’d just taken.
Stiles glared at him. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he snapped. He grabbed the next box and stormed out of the room, muttering about inhumane abominations and terrible Pack members.
“Who’s going to tell him he grabbed the other pineapple?” Erica asked, smirking as she picked at a pepperoni from the meat lover's pizza.
Derek thought about letting Stiles suffer, but he knew that would mean him sleeping on the couch that night, so he grabbed the mushroom and onion that was Stiles’ and carried it toward the backdoor where Stiles had disappeared.
He found Stiles sitting on the backstep, staring down at the open box with a frown on his face. Derek sat down next to him, took the box, and set it on the steps behind him. Then he handed Stiles the other box, relieved when Stiles opened it with a smile, taking a big bite and grinning at Derek.
“You do it just to torture them,” Derek said.
“And you love me for it,” Stiles said with a grin as a piece of crust fell out of his mouth.
Derek laughed. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”