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Every now and then Stiles and Derek engage in small petty pranks. Just tiny things that result in a minor annoyance in their day to day lives. It's happened before and it'll keep happening as far as each party is concerned.
They agreed without any actual words being spoken at the start of their pranks that they were to only prank each other once, gauge the winner of this battle, then add the victors tally to the ongoing war. This rule stops their lives from degenerating into a endless spiral of pranks that got more and more vicious with every prank committed.
Stiles realises that Derek has started such a battle when he can't find a pair of socks anywhere/ in the loft. There is but a lone sock sitting atop the dresser, mocking Stiles, but other than that, nothing.
Now Stiles doesn't know why, but wearing shoes without socks is a big no in his books. He has to leave the loft in the next five minutes if he wants to make it to his lecture in time. He has to leave without socks.
"You'll regret this!" He yells to nobody, shoving his sockless feet into his shoes and leaving the loft. Stiles already knows how he is going to retaliate too. Tit for sockless tat.
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"You don't understand, Isaac. He's naked. Nude. In the buff. The only suit he's wearing is his goddamn birthday suit!" Stiles hisses across the Starbucks coffee table.
"What did you expect when you took all of his clothes away?" Isaac replies, sipping his flat white.
"Hey! He started it! And it's not like I didn’t leave him with nothing to wear."
"Oh yeah, cause Derek would just willingly wear an Appa onsie."
"He's a secret Avatar nerd, ok. I thought the only kind of onsie he would wear would be the flying bison kind. But no. He just looked around the loft after he came out of the shower, saw that he had no clothes but the very suggestive Appa onsie on the bed, then dumped the towel on the floor and went and made himself a sandwich! A fucking sandwich!"
"You only have yourself to blame." Isaac smirks, stealing a forkful of Stiles' chocolate mud cake.
"I honestly thought he would pick the onsie over being naked. But I was wrong, Isaac. So, so wrong." Stiles reaches across the small table and grabs Isaac by the lapels, desperately making eye contact. "I've seen things. Things that can't be unseen. It's been four days, Isaac."
"What does it matter if you've seen his dick, you guys are in a relationship anyway. It was bound to happen sooner rather than later." Isaac must have had a less than subtle tone to his probing statement, cause Stiles was glaring at him now.
"We have a… indefinable companionship. And how far we decide to take that - companionship - is completely up to us and will not be judged by any external parties, nor will any queries be made into the current status of this companionship unless one wants to wake up with not even a onsie to wear." Stiles says none too kindly.
"So Derek just decided to take your - indefinable companionship - to the next level by parading around naked. Don't you also want to go to the next… level?" Isaac's slowly confusing himself with all of Stiles' terminologies.
"I'm not mad about Derek and I getting even closer due to his no-pants-party, I'm mad because he didn't wear the fucking Appa onsie!"
Isaac just gives Stiles a look from across the table.
"You don't understand-"
"Apparently."
"-there are rules and Derek has broken them! After having no clothes he was meant to wear the Appa onsie like I was forced to go without socks until I could buy more."
"You making no socks such a big deal is weird by the way."
Stiles kicks Isaac under the table. "A prank for a prank, but he's acting like he didn't even get pranked! Without rules there is chaos, and the chaos in this instance is-"
"Is Derek's dick."
"It's distracting!"
"Good! People in a…" Isaac forgot what Stiles was calling his relationship with Derek.
"Indefinable companionship-"
"People in a relationship are meant to be distracted by their partner's junk."
"He's got the body of a Greek god, Isaac. It's not always his junk that's distracting."
"Then why don't you just get naked and make it an official no-pants-party? 'Prank' him back for not doing your prank properly."
"Because that would be me pranking him twice in a row and that's not how this whole thing works."
"Technically, you could class it as a 'continuation' of your original prank until Derek caves and wears the onsie. Like, the completion of your prank isn't met until Derek's Appa."
"No that’s…" Stiles' eyes widen as he let's Isaac's words sink in. "That's genius!" Stiles flings himself across the small coffee table, nearly knocking over both of their drinks to grab Isaac in a tight hug. He let's go of Isaac just as suddenly, running out of Starbucks babbling about 'rules' and 'order to the chaos'.
Scott owes Isaac big time for skipping out this lunch break to catch up on his assignments. Big time.
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Stiles waits until he is standing outside the front door of the loft to completely strip, shoving his clothes, shoes, and brand new socks into his bag, zipping it closed. He gives himself a few more seconds to convince himself that alls fair in pranks and war, standing completely naked outside their front door, before stealing his nerves and pulling the door open.
Stiles acts completely normal and goes through his usual routine when he gets home from university. He dumps his bag by the kitchen bench, then throws himself down face first on the couch. "What're you making for dinner, Jamie Oliver?" Stiles yells out, hoping that Derek heard him the first time.
"I was thinking maybe-"
Stiles knows that Derek has just seen him ass-up on the couch and fights every urge to tense up at that very moment. "Thinking what?"
"… Maybe, beef stir-fry."
"Sounds good to me." With the heat pouring off his face Stile just hopes that his blush isn't spreading full bodied.
It's about thirty seconds before a crash of pots and pans sounds from in the kitchen. Stiles sits bolt up right from the shock of it, Derek just standing there amongst the fallen cooking ware, blatantly not looking at Stiles.
Because he's a shit-stirrer, Stiles offers his help. "Hey, do you need a hand cleaning that up?" He makes to get up off the couch, Derek's head whipping towards him at the movement.
"No!" Derek's eyes are wide, his eyebrows high, gaze flittering over Stiles' exposed skin. Clearing his throat, he tries again. "No, it's fine. I've got it."
"A-huh." Stiles says, amused. He relaxes back down onto the couch, crossing his arms and resting his head there, watching Derek move about the kitchen. Now that he's looking at Derek, all of the man's confidence in his nudity is gone. Derek's hiding behind the kitchen bench as much as he can, turning his back to Stiles when he needs something out of the cover of the bench.
Derek's sudden bout of shyness emboldens Stiles, makes him stretch out on the couch, lets the light coming through the floor to ceiling windows play in the dips and hollows of his body. He gets the most enjoyment out of his shameless teasing when he catches Derek in the act of staring, thrilling in the blush that heats Derek's cheeks.
Stiles waits until Derek's eyes flick up from chopping vegetables, locks eyes, then turns over so the entire front of his body is facing the man.
Derek almost gives himself whiplash trying to look at the ceiling. "Alright, why are you naked?!" He half yells.
"I could ask you the same thing!" Stiles yells back, sitting up properly on the couch now.
"You left me with no clothes! What was I supposed to do?!"
"Wear the fucking onsie!"
Derek looks back at Stiles, sees the entirety of Stiles, then looks straight out the windows. "You're infuriating!"
"Just wear the fucking Appa onsie!" Stiles is standing now, hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"No!" Derek dares to bring his gaze back round to Stiles, staring the pale man down.
"Then I'm staying naked for as long as you are! So get used to all of this." Stiles brings both hands to motion at his junk then shakes his hips.
Derek's blush spreads right from his cheeks to his ears, down his neck. He tries to look away, but no matter what way he turns his head, Stiles comes shimmying into his line of vision. "Fine! Fine." Possibly adding a little stomp to his step, Derek makes his way over to his bed, digging the onsie out from under it. "You know this is technically cheating-"
"Nope! It's a continuation of the prank until you conform to the entirety of my prank in the way it was meant to be played out in."
Derek pauses in pulling the onsie up his thighs to glare to Stiles, who just shimmies again to make his point.
"You may have won this battle, Stilinski, but you haven't won the war."
Licking his finger, Stiles strikes a tally in the air, smirking proudly.