Haha, what do you mean leave you hanging? I think I said it all!
I mean, we all know how this goes:
Stiles gets unbelievably flustered, turns bright red and fumbles his glasses off and on about a thousand times and Derek keeps smirking at him as he takes their order, which makes ordering a thousand times harder- in fact, he promptly forgets what he was going to order so he sort of stutters out a request for Derek to tell him what his favorite thing on the menu is
And, of course, Derek, still fucking smirking (and probably flexing those goddamn muscles of his and, honestly what kind of place is this? He is goign to look this up the moment this waiter finally leaves ) Anyway, Derek says something truly awful, like the worse food pun you can think of, seriously imagine the absolute worst food pun you’ve ever heard (something about sausages probably or spices… pickles? I dont’ know make it awful and dirty) and no human should be able to pull that off but Derek just keeps on smirking that smirk and Stiles-
Well, Stiles manages to order (curly fries, he remembers, he always wants curly fries) and that should be it. He only has to survive like 3 more interactions (the food bringing, the checkup, and then the paying) and he can do that-
Except, he can’t. Because Derek is not sticking to the one check-up rule of a crowded bar. No, sir. Derek is checking on their table all the time, sliding closer every time and then he brings Stiles another beer without asking (”on the house” he says with a wink) and after a conference with his friends, Stiles manages to sit up straight the next time Derek approaches and-
“You trying to get me drunk?” He asks, managing to fidget with his classes only once and hoping he comes across as semi-flirty (or a lot flirty but let’s not dream too big)
“Never,” Derek says, smirk dropping into what looks like horror. Stiles tries to die by pure willpower. Oh my god, that was lame, that was awful, that was-
“We can’t do half the things I’m planning if you’re drunk,” Derek suddenly murmurs in his ear, smile back in place. “I get off in twenty.”
Stiles drops his phone into his beer.
He doesn’t even care.