Stiles was pissed. When he'd asked Derek to go out for dinner, he'd thought that he'd been clear that they were going to a fancy restaurant. So when Derek sauntered into Vincent's Restaurant, wearing a low v-neck shirt, and a pair of dirty jeans, Stiles could feel his anger start to rise. Goddammit, Derek. Stiles thought, as the man sat down at their table, and quickly reached for the menu.
"I thought you were going to dress up nice for our date." Stiles said, the hurt showing in his eyes.
"Sorry." Derek said, looking down at the page in front of him. "I was helping Peter move into his new apartment. I lost track of time."
Stiles had specifically asked Derek to dress up fancy, because the restaurant he'd picked was the most expensive place in town. And they had a very strict dress code. Stiles could see the manager eyeing them, and whispering to the waitress. Stiles facepalmed in embarrasment, as the manager walked up to their table.
"Excuse me, Sir. We have a very strict dress code policy here." The man said, glaring haughtily at Derek's casual outfit. Derek raised his eyebrows at the man. "Every gentleman must wear a jacket. We don't allow t-shirts and jeans, or sneakers."
"Sorry." Derek said, looking up from the menu.
"Sir, you'll need to wear something more appropriate. This is a highly respected restaurant." The man said.
"I forgot my rich clothes at home." Derek said, sarcastically.
"I'll have to ask you to leave." The man said, glancing at Stiles briefly. Stiles was blushing profusely, as he looked down at the table in front of him.
Derek looked around the room. The nearest couple was sitting two tables away. The woman was wearing a glittery dress, the man in a blazer and button-up shirt. They were both blatantly eavesdropping, their food forgotten.
"Look, I'll give you a big tip. Just let us have our date." Derek told the man.
"No, Sir." The manager said. "You must abide by our rules, or I'll have to ask you to leave the building."
Stiles got into the passenger seat of Derek's car, and glared out the window. "I can't believe they kicked us out." He pouted, fingers tapping restlesssly against the car door.
Derek gave him a quick look, a little sad that he'd wrecked their date. "I'm sorry." He said, leaning over and kissing Stiles on the cheek. Derek noted with amusement how the corner of Stiles' mouth flicked upwards briefly, before he continued to frown again.
"You should be. Wanna know how long I had to wait to get a reservation at that place?" Stiles said. "I booked our table two months ago, Der. TWO MONTHS." Stiles told him, putting on his seatbelt.
"Let me make it up to you." Derek said, kissing him on the mouth. Stiles laughed as Derek's stubble tickled his skin. Stiles pushed him gently away.
"Where we gonna go now? It's our anniversary, dumbass." Stiles said, as Derek started to drive.
"I don't know. What about that italian place on fourth street?" Derek suggested. Stiles rolled his eyes at his boyfriend. He hated that place.
"Really?" Stiles groaned, disappointed. "They have horrible service there."
"Okay, well, how about that diner on main street? They have really good milkshakes." Derek suggested. Stiles shook his head. "Nope." He said.
Derek drove through Beacon Hills, trying to find a place they both could agree on.
"Just pick somewhere already." Derek told him, annoyed. "We've been through the entire town already."
"I want seafood." Stiles said, decisively.
Derek did a U-turn in the middle of the street, and drove back to the seafood restaurant. "Are you sure?" He asked. "You're not gonna get pissed at me later
for not taking you somewhere nice, right?" Derek asked, parking the car. Stiles looked at him, grinning.
"This place is really nice." He said, opening the car door and getting out. Derek took his hand, and they walked into the restaurant together.
Stiles ordered a plate of scallops, and Derek got fish and chips. Derek glanced around the restaurant, at the tacky cartoon fish wallpaper on the walls, and the dusty lobster traps hanging from the ceiling. Not nearly as romantic as Vincent's, this place was more of a family friendly joint.
"Next time I invite you out to a fancy restaurant," Stiles told him, "You'd better dress more appropriate. That was kind of embarrassing."
Derek cut off a piece of his fish and held it out to Stiles. "I did apologize." He said.
"That tastes good," Stiles commented, as he stole some of Derek's fries and dipped them in tartar sauce.
Derek leaned across the table, and kissed Stiles again. "I really am sorry." He said.
"You're forgiven, Derek." Stiles told him, grinning. He always found it hard to stay mad at his boyfriend for too long.