Aw, did it offend your chef palate? Okay, fine. But before we go-- [ Stiles takes Derek's bag and chucks it somewhere behind them, then fists his hands in the front of his shirt to pull him down for a deep, hungry kiss.
When he breaks away, with a tug of his lower lip between his teeth, Stiles murmurs-- ] That was for the French. [ and then brushes off Derek's lapels himself.
He looks pretty much merry as he ducks underneath his arm and out into the hallway, absently pulling out his phone and snapping a picture of Derek's back and the hotel room to add to the pile of vacation photos. There's going to be an epic spam of pictures later--you only go to France once, after all. ]
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When he breaks away, with a tug of his lower lip between his teeth, Stiles murmurs-- ] That was for the French. [ and then brushes off Derek's lapels himself.
He looks pretty much merry as he ducks underneath his arm and out into the hallway, absently pulling out his phone and snapping a picture of Derek's back and the hotel room to add to the pile of vacation photos. There's going to be an epic spam of pictures later--you only go to France once, after all. ]