Work Text:
Stiles went up back to his bedroom that they changed into a training/strategizing/impromptu meeting room. (It’s not like Stiles actually uses his bedroom in the Hale House anyway.) His dad already left an hour or two ago after talking with Scott and the others. The pack training was over and the others were lounging around different places in the house.
Derek’s own training wasn’t over yet though, so Stiles still has to help with that.
“You ready?” Derek asked as Stiles was lying down on the wooden floor, still and unmoving as he could manage. Not that he needed to be. It would probably be more challenging if he rolled or fidgeted or moved in any way. But then again, Derek would probably kill him.
And the instructions did say to stay still. So, Stiles did as the instructions told. To breathe in. To breathe out. To stay on the floor. To stay still. To not become aroused as Derek aligned their bodies, moving on top of him.
Stiles swallowed hard. Why did he include this in the list of exercises to try again?
Derek looked down at him and just smirked as he got into position.
Derek started moving, pushing himself upwards, while Stiles tried to think of something that would distract him. Anything. This push-up set was supposed to last for 20 reps. 3... 4... 5...
Yep, Stiles wouldn’t make it.
“Why did you avoid Dad?”
Stiles felt the urge to smack his own forehead. It was distracting, sure. But Derek stopped half-way through pushing up and the point was to distract only himself, and not Derek as well.
“I... didn’t. I talked with him before he left.”
Stiles rolled his eyes. That wasn’t what he meant and he knew that the werewolf knew it. “You left me alone on purpose. We’re supposed to handle those kinds of awkward moments together,” He whined. Or at least, it almost sounded like whining. Maybe because it was. Stiles allowed himself to this time; it was within reason. Derek started to move again, leaving a few seconds of silence.
“Your dad thought we were having sex.”
“My point about awkward! Although, seriously? I think the ‘I think I’m dating Derek Hale,’ ‘The supernatural won’t let me get laid,’ and the ‘I just found out I’m Derek’s mate’ conversations have it covered. We’ve been together for 5 years dumbass. And though I’m sure Dad doesn’t think and doesn’t want to think about it, he would probably be surprised if we weren’t having sex.”
Derek stopped moving and just stared at him, maintaining a comfortable distance between their faces. “What I meant was he thought we were having sex when you were just helping me with exercise.” He rolled his eyes and resumed his push-ups, “We weren’t even kissing then.”
Stiles blinked at the minute downturn of Derek’s lips. The frown though was barely noticeable, if it were anyone else looking at Derek. But then again, he wasn’t just anyone.
“Oh my god!” Stiles’ eyes widened in realization. “Are you actually complaining that we didn’t use exercise as an excuse to make out while the rest of the pack trained outside?”
“What? No.” Derek huffed.
“Right… okay then.” Stiles stayed as still as he could. The position they were in was weird. How exactly did anyone get actual exercise like this? And how did having someone lie down under you while you do push-ups actually help at all?
Oh sure it’d probably make someone put more effort into pushing themselves upwards or something... And when he first saw the instructions, it did seem fun so...
Stiles put up a hand against Derek’s chest to stop him from moving. “How about now though? You don’t want to take this chance?” He grinned as he put his arms around Derek’s neck and pulled him closer, “Because I mean this position’s actually way easier to start with, you know? Me, under you. Us, face-to-face...”
Before Derek could respond, there was a chorus of “NO!” from outside the room.
“Not while we’re here!”
“Wait, Stiles! No!”
“Stiles, you ass!”
The betas were clearly shouting for his benefit.
They could hear the rushing of the betas down the stairs, floorboards creaked and doors banged close. Derek buried his head in the crook of Stiles’ neck and Stiles could feel the smile though his skin. He was laughing out loud, holding Derek against him, effectively distracted from everything. Even from the push-ups he was supposed to be helping Derek with.
Derek pushed himself off the floor, off of Stiles, and headed for the door, “Let’s go.”
Right. There was supposed to be a Pack dinner tonight. Scott and the others would be staying over. And so was Jackson, apparently.
Stiles sat up and a mental note to urge Derek to try the position again later.
Which of course, he deliberately forgot about after dinner in favor of a more interesting one (that he and Derek thoroughly enjoyed, with leftover icing and chocolate syrup courtesy of last night’s dessert thank you very much).
The following morning, Stiles wasn’t really surprised when Derek wanted to continue trying out more exercise variations.
“Sure, we can try out this one.” Stiles handed a piece of paper to Derek, another print-out from his exercise research.
“Push-ups again,” Derek noted, as he read through the short notes and looked at the illustrations that Stiles drew on the margins. (Which looked more like random lines with circles and not even proper stick figures but he did try.)
“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, “just like floor push-ups.”
“But on the wall.”
“The exercise’s name is ‘wall push-ups’ so...”
Derek raised an eyebrow and pointed at one of the ‘stick figure’ drawings at the bottom of the page, “And how would this work exactly? Me having you against the wall?”
“Well,” Stiles smirked, “just resist the urge to fuck me there and you’re good to go.”
Derek’s eyes flashed red.
“Hey, you did ask for my help on improving your workout routine.”
Derek pulled Stiles by the shirt and a second after, Stiles found himself pinned down the bed. “This isn’t the wall,” he pushed a hand up under Derek’s shirt. Derek licked across Stiles’ jaw in response, kissed his way up to the back of Stiles’ ear.
“And you’re not helping at all.”