:* yet again, the lawyer au
The place Stiles picked for their lunch is not far off, but fancy enough for Derek to guess who is Stiles planning on making into paying for their food.
“I’m not paying for you,” he says flatly as they settle down at the table in the far corner of the restaurant and flip through the menus.
“Oh come on, the appetizers here are half my salary,” Stiles whines and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “I will buy you a burger later. With curly fries.”
“How’s that fair? I earn as much as you do,” Derek says, raising his own eyebrows.
“Uh huh. Really. Do you see me wearing…” Derek absolutely does not yelp when Stiles grabs him by the collar of his jacket to reveal a tag there, “…a Fioravanti suit. Who the hell is Fioravanti anyway? I buy my suits at Macy’s, dude.”
“I can see that,” Derek replies, trying to recover as fast as possible.
“Wow, harsh.” Stiles clutches at his heart, but then drops his hand just as quickly. “Don’t be a tight ass about it, okay?”
There it is again. Ass talk. Derek’s mind wanders south.