S͟T͟E͟R͟E͟K͟ I͟M͟A͟G͟I͟N͟E͟S͟

Around the bend

⚠️
Smut And fluff
⚠️

The first time Derek catches sight of the new yoga instructor, Stiles is in the middle of showing a class how to do downward-facing dog. Derek walks into a wall.
Things don't exactly improve from there.
It's not that Derek has never seen an attractive guy doing yoga before. Derek works in a gym; he is constantly surrounded by people with ridiculous bodies (admittedly none quite so ridiculous as his). But something about the way Stiles's neck looks when he's doing ustrasana makes it physically impossible for Derek to look away. It's like watching live porn.
Derek needs help.
Preferably quickly and without Laura noticing. Because Laura has already noticed Derek's, er, issue. Several times. This is the problem with being related to werewolves: you can't hide crushes from them, no matter how inconvenient. They can always tell. Derek is just grateful Cora is away at college right now.
Really, really grateful, Derek decides when Stiles walks into the staff room and he sees the shark smile form on Laura's lips.
Derek finishes his break early.
Unfortunately for Derek, his mom hired Erica to fill in for Cora, and that means if he has any hope of surviving with his dignity intact, he has to convince Erica to do him a favor. And Erica may be human, but she is psychic (or else just a supergossip) and also terrifying.
"I will wash your car for you if you swap shifts with me this week," Derek begs.
Erica makes a big show of looking for imperfections on her nails (ridiculous, they're not even painted) and asks nonchalantly, "Why?"
"Because I want to do the morning shift."
Erica cocks her head as if thinking. "You hate the morning shift. The last time I left you on mornings, you grumbled for a week and made me buy you a death by chocolate cupcake as repayment."
It's true: he does, he did, and she did too. The cupcake was delicious. Erica spent a week complaining about how Derek should weigh three hundred pounds.
"Erica...," he whines.
She pops her gum. "There's obviously some hideously embarrassing reason for it. So tell me and maybe I'll say yes."
Fuck. She is ruthless. Derek stares at the ceiling and tries not to whimper. Will it be worth it?
"There's an expiry date on this offer, Derek. Tick tock."
Oh God damn it. "I'm going to get fired for workplace sexual harassment."
Erica meets Derek's embarrassing word vomit with silence. Derek closes his eyes for a second, bracing himself, before he opens them and sees:
Erica grinning like a fiend. "I knew it! You want to bang the new yoga teacher!"
"Jesus, Erica, could you say that any louder?" Derek takes a furtive glance around, but they're alone in her dance studio.
"Sure I could," says Erica to be perverse, and then takes a deep breath as though she's about to yell.
"So are you going to help me or not?" Derek cuts in, because that can't happen.
"I don't think you could teach my 9:00 a.m. Zumba class even if I did swap you," she says. Then she looks him up and down salaciously and adds, "Not that I wouldn't love to watch."
"So teach me," Derek begs. Oh God this is going to suck so much. "Little old ladies do it. It can't be that hard. Erica, please."
Finally Erica smiles. With rather a lot of teeth. "Well," she says, "since you asked so nicely."
*
Stiles loves his new job. Teaching yoga at the Hale gym with lots of hours and decent pay is the best job Stiles has ever had. He's worked some pretty shitty yoga instructor jobs, and a lot of gyms are unequipped and don't pay well. Stiles once taught two classes at a gym that wanted to pay him $15 an hour. Happily Hale Gym pays by enrollment.
Also the eye candy at Hale gym is pretty decent. Seriously, Hale genetics are blessed. Even Mrs. Hale is still hot even though she's older than Stiles's dad.
Despite his current happiness with his job, though, there is the slight hiccup of Derek.
Stiles doesn't get Derek.
Actually he suspects nobody gets Derek. In any sense of the word, because despite the fact that he is in fact hotter than the face of the sun, Derek has not had a date since Stiles started work. Stiles knows because he asked Erica and Erica knows everything about everyone. Apparently nobody is tapping that, which just flat-out boggles his mind.
Aside from his seeming lack of interest in sex, there's also the fact that Derek's kind of broody. Stiles is almost certain Derek hates him. Otherwise what is up with the intense staring? But they haven't actually spoken to each other, so Stiles doesn't know what he might have done.
And right now he can't think about it either. Right now the only thought he is capable of having about Derek is: what.
Because Derek... Derek is... well, Stiles is watching Erica teach Derek how to Zumba.
Never mind that Zumba classes are Erica's thing. His mind rebels at the thought of Derek Hale Zumba-ing. When Stiles walks past the dance room, Erica is showing Derek a side step that gets his hands and legs moving. Derek is... unfairly talented at it. He doesn't have any trouble keeping up with Erica.
Then, because Stiles's life is just not fair, Erica teaches Derek a circular step where he sways his hips in a circle. Stiles's brain freezes. Happily neither Erica nor Derek seem to notice Stiles is watching from the sidelines because both of them are too busy staring at Derek's hips in the mirror: Derek in concentration, Erica with appreciation. Seriously, Stiles doesn't blame her; the real-world applications of this are not lost on him either.
Then Erica proves that she's an evil genius because she makes Derek throw his hands in the air and just... gyrate. Derek frowns in concentration as he tries to emulate her.
Stiles can't take any more. He decides to go find answers. As soon as his erection calms down enough not to be blatantly obvious. Stupid yoga pants.
He comes across Talia in the staff room, next month's class schedule spread out in front of her. "Stiles! I was just about to look for you. Do you think you could handle another class of beginners' yoga? The enrollment numbers are higher than we expected."
Stiles grins. "Yeah, sure!" He prefers teaching the more advanced classes, but he needs students who are ready to take them first. "Hey, uh, this might sound weird, but... is Erica leaving?"
Setting down her highlighter, Talia frowns. "She hasn't mentioned anything to me. Why, did she say something to you?"
Stiles shakes his head. "No, no. It's just that she's teaching Derek Zumba? And I thought that was kind of"—absurdly hot—"weird."
Judging by Talia's expression, she's not buying the "weird" thing. "Maybe Derek has developed an interest?"
"Maybe," Stiles concedes, though he's not convinced.
"Or maybe," says Laura, gliding into the room (she's that graceful, the fucker), "Derek has developed a burning problem that conflicts with his current work schedule." She smiles at Stiles, but there is nothing friendly about the show of teeth.
"Speaking of schedules, it looks like that new beginners class should be first thing in the morning!" Laura sounds way too happy about this. Who the hell is happy about early-morning work? Clearly only the people who don't have to work it, since it doesn't matter to Laura when the class schedule gets drawn up, as she only ever works the desk in the afternoons. No, Isaac is the poor unlucky soul working the front desk every morning (though the weirdo insists he likes early mornings, but whatever. Stiles totally has his suspicions about Isaac and Scott's 6:00 a.m. daily workouts, but he's not saying because Scott and Isaac helped him get this job).
"Right," Stiles says. He has twenty minutes until his next class starts; he should head to the yoga studio to get ready. "Well, I've got to go teach, so...." He gives a little wave and lets himself out. Laura and her mom are being weird today. All of the Hales are being weird today. Maybe it's a full moon or something.
Whatever else can be said about his job, it does help Stiles focus. By the time his class starts filing in, he's already put Derek out of his mind. Considering Stiles's epic lifelong battle with ADHD, he deserves a pat on the back. His concentration never falters... until he looks up in the middle of bridge pose and sees Derek staring at him through the studio window.
Technically the window is supposed to be one-way. The students shouldn't be able to see outside the classroom; it distracts their focus. But Stiles is at the front of the room on the floor, and the angle compromises the glass, so he has a perfect view. Derek's just a little sweaty from his Zumba workout, making his athletic T-shirt stick to him even more deliciously than normal. His eyes are dark. And for once he isn't scowling.
Stiles's breath rushes out of him when Derek licks his lips. Oh.
There are a few poses Stiles almost never does in class. Plough is one of them, the reason being he doesn't need his entire class to know he can suck his own dick. But if Derek's been a jerk to him just because he can't handle wanting a piece of this? Two can play at that game.
Stiles peeks over and sees that his class isn't yet ready, so he figures he'll just continue with his warm-up. Lying flat on his back, he lifts his legs into the air, then his hips off the floor, and finally lets his legs fall back over his head so his toes are touching the mat. He takes a few deep breaths and considers the merits of bending his knees so they touch the floor on either side of his head. Ultimately Stiles decides not to, since that will definitely put the idea of autofellatio into his students' heads.
Stiles takes a few deep breaths, taking full benefit of the pose, and tries to subtly peer around his legs to see what Derek is doing. Derek goes wide-eyed and stares for a few long moments before he suddenly turns blotchy red, spins sharply on his heel, and stomps out.
Ugh, Stiles is too old to be dealing with someone else's homophobic gay crisis. It was bad enough encountering supposed straight boys at college who wanted Stiles to suck their cock, but not to date him. Shouldn't Derek be past the stage of pulling pigtails and hurling insults because he can't deal with his own urges?
If Derek wants to be a dick because he can't handle his lust for Stiles's nubile body, that's his problem. Stiles has better things to worry about. Like getting out of plough pose and teaching yoga to all the lovely people who are staring at him with shock, envy, and a little bit of lust.
*
For the first time in his life, Derek hates being a werewolf. No other person on the planet would have this problem. Sixteen-year-olds don't have this problem. People abusing Viagra don't have this problem. The problem being: Derek cannot wear his dick out.
His refractory period has defeated him. Just when he thinks he's jerked off enough thinking about Stiles—about Stiles's stupid long limbs and long fingers and Jesus Christ his mouth—about literally bending him in half because Stiles can obviously take it—
Jesus fuck he's hard again.
All of this jerking off has to be accomplished at home in his own loft, of course, because of werewolf noses. Derek's not stupid enough to give Laura any more ammunition. But Derek now teaches a 9:00 a.m. Zumba class, and getting off a couple times before work means he has to wake up really fucking early.
You might think the constant orgasms would put him in an agreeable mood, but no. Particularly when he walks in the door for his first morning teaching Zumba and there's Stiles, pink and fucking glowing from his first class of the day. Because of course his mom scheduled the new yoga class the same mornings Derek teaches Zumba. Of course she did.
Maybe Derek should move to Alaska.
"Morning, Derek," Stiles says cheerily with an obnoxious smile.
Derek scowls and tries not to think too much about how much he'd like to kiss that stupid smile off of Stiles's stupid face.
"How are you this morning? Don't you just love starting the day with invigorating exercise?"
Derek would very much like to start his day engaging in all sorts of exertions with Stiles... and there goes Derek's dick again. Derek curses to himself. Externally he just keeps glaring at Stiles and grunts.
Derek tends to be preverbal in the mornings. Laura says he's preverbal almost all the time, but what does she know? She might have a degree in business management, but Derek studied English lit.
"Well, it's been lovely chatting with you, Derek, as always. Let's do this again sometime! Maybe after my next morning class. We'll run into each other, I'll talk, you'll grunt, it'll be great!" Stiles claps a hand on Derek's bicep—is Derek imagining things or did he just linger?—and then wanders off, and, okay, Derek is totally not imagining the extra sway to Stiles's walk. Derek watches him sashay down the hall, his gaze fixed on his hips, until Stiles turns the corner and is gone.
Isaac gives him a sympathetic smile. Fuck Derek's life.
*
Working at Hale Gym continues to be awesome even in the face of Derek's surliness and Stiles's shiny new morning hours. Weirdly, one of the best things about the change is getting to hang out with Isaac, who is pretty cool even if he does totally want to bone Scott, which—Stiles loves Scott, he does, but Isaac has terrible taste. Scott isn't even a tiny bit gay.
At least he's not a homophobe, though.
"Ugh," Stiles finally says in disgust one morning after a particularly sharp exchange with Derek. He looks over at Isaac balefully. "How come he's not like this with you?"
Isaac blinks back at him. "You mean why don't Derek and I exchange creepy mean foreplay banter at work? Maybe because we don't want to bone each other stupid?"
Stiles's mouth drops open and he feels a flush creeping up the back of his neck. "That's not—I don't—ugh, fine, I kind of want to hate-sex him a little. I just meant, you're very attractive, with the cherubic curls and the cheekbones I could shave with. How come Derek's not pissed at you for giving him a gay sex boner?"
Either Isaac is very dumb or what Stiles has just said makes no sense whatsoever, because he just keeps staring. Then he says, "First of all, I'm not Derek's type. Second of all, Derek's bi, dude."
Wait, what?
"Derek's bi? He's an out and experienced bisexual?"
Isaac nods slowly, like he's worried Stiles won't follow if he moves to fast. Stiles would be insulted, except apparently Stiles has failed to notice that Derek is not in fact a closet homophobe.
"Wait, so if he's not having a gay crisis, why does he hate me?" Because really? Stiles is not used to being so disliked. Well, there was Jackson, but Jackson was an anomaly. Everyone else likes Stiles, because he's awesome. And Derek might be unfriendly to Stiles, but he's generally good to everyone else. The guy is a damn puppy when it comes to his family, for all he mumbles about Laura's evil ways. Stiles won't even go into the time he walked into the staff room to find Derek talking to his little sister on the phone, because if he does he'll start thinking about Derek's open face as he showed off his gooey marshmallow center. He was sweetness personified to her.
Ugh. So much for not thinking about such things. Also, Stiles is totally craving some snacks now. Something sweet.
"Um," says Isaac, and right, Stiles asked a question. "Well, Derek might have some issues?"
Stiles blinks to hear that totally unsurprising news. Anyone who's seen Derek and knows of his celibate lifestyle can guess that much. Also: Derek's method of coping with sexual desire is to treat the object of said desire with contempt. Stiles knows about Derek's issues.
"No, you don't," Isaac counters, "because I doubt Laura or Talia told you about Kate, and she left before Erica got here."
"Kate?"
"Yeah. She and Derek dated, and it didn't end well. Kate was...." Isaac looks down, his whole face telegraphing unhappiness. Clearly Isaac does not have fond memories. "She was nasty, manipulative. She used to—well, it doesn't matter what she used to, just that it wasn't healthy."
What? Obviously it matters what she used to. Equally obviously, though, Isaac isn't going to tell him, so Stiles keeps his mouth shut, hoping for more details.
"But Derek got out." Isaac lifts his gaze as he says this, stressing the words "got out" like he wants Stiles to understand that this was a big deal.
Message received. Stiles takes a deep breath and asks the only question he has that might have a hope of being answered. "So he broke up with her? That must have been awkward, since she worked here and all."
Isaac shrugs. "Not really, since she was fired and arrested for trying to burn down the gym the day after they broke up."
Stiles stares at him. Well, fuck. He remembers his dad talking about Kate Argent and her arson attempt, but he didn't know that had anything to do with Derek. All this time he thought Derek was being a dick when—
Stiles's stomach churns unpleasantly. When it turns out Stiles is the asshole.
Shit.
*
Tuesday morning, Derek opens the door to his office to find a box of cupcakes on his desk. The note, which just reads "Sorry! ☹," is unsigned, but the room smells like Stiles.
Derek spends the whole day wondering if he's supposed to say thank you or if the cupcakes were supposed to be anonymous. But what's the point of apologizing if you don't say who you are?
On Wednesday, when he walks into the gym, Stiles just says, "Morning, Derek," and smiles at him like he means it.
Derek's throat goes a little dry and his face does—something unfamiliar. It might be a smile; Derek can't see it. "Morning," he rasps. Apparently his voice isn't up to the task of sounding friendly at this time of day. Possibly at any time of day.
It's on the tip of his tongue to ask what the cupcakes are about—Derek hasn't the slightest idea what Stiles could have done that would warrant a two-thousand-calorie apology—but then the McCall kid walks out after his shower and sidles over to Isaac, and just. Derek can't watch that train wreck again. He meets Stiles's eyes and winces.
"Well," Stiles says too loudly, "we've got classes to teach. Later, Scott, Isaac"—and then he takes Derek by the wrist and basically drags him into the staff room.
Derek closes the door behind him and leans against it, realizing a little too late that he's blocking the exit, but it doesn't matter—Stiles isn't trying to get away. "Why do we have to watch that every morning?" he asks the ceiling. "Why are we being punished? That shit's depressing."
Stiles sighs and agrees. "Isaac has bad taste or bad luck. Though my sympathy for him grows every time Scott comes in. I never knew he was such an unintentional tease. Seriously."
Derek grunts. Stiles isn't wrong. Derek is fairly sure that Scott has no idea about Isaac's crush. He also is pretty sure Scott isn't purposely showing up half-dressed to flirt with Isaac. It's kind of sad, really, how good a job Scott is doing at seducing someone without even trying.
"So... how go the Zumba classes?" Stiles asks. He sounds like he's trying to fill the silence.
Derek shrugs. "This is my last morning teaching. Erica and I only swapped shifts for a couple of weeks. It was supposed to only be a week, but...." He doesn't mention that he regretted the deal as soon as he found out his early mornings wouldn't mean actually avoiding Stiles, or that Erica discovered the afternoon shift was more to her liking right about the time she discovered that the gorgeous (and ripped) Boyd delivers mail every afternoon.
Derek now suffers through early mornings for no reason so Erica can enjoy eye candy. Happily Boyd isn't as oblivious as Scott, picked up on Erica's interest straight away, and asked her out a few days ago. When Derek went to Erica begging to give her early mornings back, Erica was in a good mood and agreed.
"I'll be back to my regular schedule next week."
"Ah, cool," says Stiles, nodding one time too many. It's ridiculous, but that's not atypical for Stiles. Unfortunately for Derek, Stiles can look distractingly sexy and ridiculous at the same time.
So that's kind of weird. Not Stiles looking ridiculous; that's par for the course. But the nervousness—that's weird. Derek's not blind, deaf, or stupid; he's aware Stiles is attracted to him. But this is the first time he's acted like it instead of just smelling like it.
"Look," Stiles says after a minute of silence, after which Derek belatedly realizes he's still blocking the door, "I just wanted to apologize. In person instead of, you know, with cowardly baked goods."
Derek blinks. "Cowardly?"
Stiles blushes a little, then grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Yeah, you know, didn't they scream in terror when you sank your teeth into their tender flesh?"
Jesus God, Stiles should not be allowed to say things like tender flesh to a horny werewolf. Derek clears his throat. "So the apology was for...?"
This time Stiles blushes a lot. The flush extends from his cheekbones down to his collarbone. Maybe farther, but that's as low as the collar of his shirt allows Derek to see. Damn it, he wants to put his mouth on that skin. "I sort of got the wrong idea, um, about you, and I was a dick."
Derek frowns. So the mean flirting—that was Stiles being a dick? Derek could give him some lessons.
"So," Stiles continues with a shrug, "uh. Sorry."
Interesting. "Apology accepted," Derek says when he realizes he's been quiet too long.
Sagging in obvious relief, Stiles smiles at him. "Awesome. Hey, I'm glad we cleared that up."
Awkward silence.
"I have to go teach my class now," Stiles says with a quirk to one corner of his stupid mouth.
Jesus, Derek thinks as he finally gets out of the way. This kid is going to be the death of him.
*
The following week brings more early morning yoga classes and the great disappointment that is Zumba classes without Derek. Stiles had taken to hiding outside the classroom and spying on Derek's teaching techniques. Derek was definitely worth spying on since his hips don't lie, and Stiles was definitely feeling it, and he needs to stop quoting Shakira. He's never going to be able to listen to that song without getting hard again, and that's bad enough.
Happily, Stiles teaches at all hours of the day, so he still gets to see Derek, which is good, because Derek is nice to look at.
It's also a little bad, because while Derek can gyrate and sway his hips distressingly on beat, he can also lift more than his own body weight. Stiles is pretty sure he saw Derek lift more than Stiles's body weight just doing arm curls yesterday, and he never even broke a sweat. Watching Derek's arms flex is more distressing than his dance skills ever could be. Because while Stiles appreciates a man with good rhythm, a man who can lift him and pin him to the wall.... Mm.
Stiles shakes himself out of his thoughts and reminds himself that he is, in fact, at work, and please, could his cock go back into hiding like a good little ashamed libido?
Isaac's smirk suggests that Stiles isn't winning that particular battle.
"Whatever," Stiles grumbles at him. "Not everyone can hide their boner behind their desk all day."
Then he immediately feels bad, because Isaac's puppy face rivals Scott's, and Stiles ends up hugging him into accepting his apology, though not until after thoughts of Scott's puppy face have effectively killed the mood. "Sorry." He sighs. "I seem to be saying that a lot lately."
Isaac gives a pathetic shrug that makes Stiles want to slam Scott's head against the wall a few times. Isaac doesn't deserve this. "It's fine, I get it. Good call with the cupcakes, by the way," he says. "Who told you about his sweet tooth?"
"Laura." Stiles still can't believe that didn't end badly. Laura seems like the kind of person who takes vicious enjoyment out of sabotaging other people's relationships. Especially when those relationships involve her brother.
Isaac raises his eyebrows. "Brave."
Stiles snorts. "No way, this was the opposite of brave. Those were cowardly 'sorry I thought you were a homophobic dickhead who hated me because I made you want the D' cupcakes."
Across the gym, something clanks loudly. Stiles looks over to see Derek having some kind of equipment malfunction. Stiles licks his lips and turns back to Isaac, trying not to get distracted. "I sort of maybe caught him staring when I was warming up before class one day. He looked like he wanted to nail me through my yoga mat and then brutally murder me and hide the body."
Another clank. That machine must be having serious issues.
Isaac smirks. "I meant taking Laura's advice was brave."
"Oh."
"Though I wouldn't mind hearing more about this yoga spying," Isaac says, and there's a mischievous light in his eyes. Stiles doesn't know what that is about. He's not sure he wants to know either.
Still, he owes Isaac something after that recent bout of asshattery, so he shrugs and says, "Not much to tell. Though all the previous times I caught Derek glaring at me midlesson suddenly made sense."
There is another clang and Derek stomps out of the gym. Apparently he has given up on his faulty machine. When Stiles turns back to Isaac, Isaac is wearing the biggest grin Stiles has seen on him yet.
"You continue to be a constant joy to everyone here, Stiles," he says.
Stiles might not know why Isaac is suddenly being so nice, but he's always abided by the old rules about horses' mouths and looking into them. Okay, that's a total lie, Stiles always looks, but he's totally willing to take this compliment since he's distracted by the recent memory of Derek's brooding ass stomping into the staff room.
*
Derek feels his face heat when Stiles mentions how he had eyed him while doing yoga. It's not really a surprise, actually, that Stiles noticed—it's why Derek tried to get away from him. What is a surprise is that Stiles thought he was a homophobe. Also, he's pretty disturbed by Stiles's imagery of hot sex and murder. Really disturbed.
Isaac, the bastard, is clearly laughing silently at him. He keeps throwing glances Derek's way as if to say, "Really, Derek? You're such a failure of a human being." Okay, so maybe Derek's the one thinking that last part, but Isaac is clearly amused.
Not, though, as amused as Laura, who is working in one of the rooms on the other side of the gym, and thus no farther away from Stiles and Isaac than Derek is. Laura is laughing her head off.
It's quite loud. Probably painful. Also, she's going to have to stop to take a proper breath soon. Or maybe she won't and will pass out from oxygen deprivation. Derek can only hope.
Derek tries to ignore them all, but Stiles keeps talking, and eventually Derek gives up. He just... can't. So he runs away and hides in the staff room, grateful he hadn't been working with a client. He can only stand so much public humiliation at a time.
It doesn't help that Stiles apparently knows all about Derek's stupid crush. At least he's trying to be nice about it to Derek's face, though Derek could do without him talking about it where he thinks Derek can't hear.
Because now fucking Laura knows that Stiles knows. And so does Isaac. It's only a matter of time before Erica finds out, and once she finds out Derek might as well just put an ad up on the gym's bulletin board. Soon even Derek's mom will start looking at him with that awful expression of pity like everyone gave him for months after Kate—
Derek doesn't realize what's happening until he's on the floor in the corner with his arms in front of his face, his heart racing in his ears and his breath coming too fast.
With all the noise he's making, it's no wonder he doesn't hear the door open. But Laura's familiar scent washes over him, and he's vaguely aware of her moving a chair out of the way so she can pull up some floor beside him, their shoulders just barely brushing.
"I locked the door," she says conversationally, with not even a hint of pity, even as she touches his wrist, pulling it away from his face as she draws the panic out. "It's Isaac's fault so he can wait for his microwavable burrito."
Derek swallows and keeps his gaze straight ahead. "Those things are disgusting. They taste like chemicals."
Laura makes a sound of agreement but doesn't let go yet. "Do you think because he used to be human, he just can't taste properly?"
"Maybe." Derek flexes his fingers and pulls his wrist out of her grip. "Thanks," he says awkwardly.
Laura leans her head on his shoulder. "No problem, little brother. Should I not have told him about the sweet tooth?"
He huffs. "If you hadn't, I'd just be a pathetic cliché asshole with a crush on the yoga instructor. At least I got cupcakes."
"Good cupcakes," agrees Laura, "that you hoarded and didn't share, even though I helped get them for you."
Derek side-eyes her. "No one shares cupcakes from Frosted Tip. No one."
Laura hums her agreement. "On the upside, you might be a pathetic cliché, but I don't think you're the only one. It's pretty trite to have a crush on the personal trainer."
Derek is pretty sure that Stiles does not have a crush. Sure, Stiles obviously thinks Derek is good-looking, but most people think that. They also all seem to agree that he does not have a personality to match. He's been called a lot of things just outside the range of human hearing, but usually it comes down to the fact that he's socially awkward, too intense, or too scowly. Or all of the above.
"Don't," he says to Laura, and surprisingly enough, she doesn't. Instead, she sits with him on the floor for another ten minutes and doesn't bring up Stiles again, not even once.