Niamh wanted personal trainer Derek and movie star Stiles, and I couldn’t really resist. [x]
“You seriously have to be kidding me, it’s not rocket science.” Derek rolls his eyes, watching his newest client, Hollywood’s latest it-boy and romcom darling, Stiles Stilinski, flop helplessly in the midst of his attempted squat. He sprawls out on the floor, big Bambi eyes blinking up innocently at Derek. What an idiot, Derek can’t believe this is his life; if Laura hadn’t convinced him to take this job (“Imagine all the great press it would get for the gym, Derek!”) he would have never taken on the actor as a client. Derek loathes Hollywood types to the core; spoiled, arrogant toerags, all of them.
Somehow Stiles is none of these things; he’s actually kind of funny, and down-to-earth, with a sharp, biting sarcasm that’s refreshing. And Derek reluctantly agrees that he definitely deserves that MTV Teen Choice Award for “Best Eyes.” He’s not sure about “Best Kiss,” though, because Derek isn’t going to admit to anyone that he sat through and watched all of Stiles’ cheesy romantic comedy movies, nor that he was actually moved to near-tears in his last performance. And Derek definitely wasn’t jealous of any of the girls or guys Stiles made out with in his movies. (He does look like an amazing kisser, though).
What Stiles actually is, is kind of useless at most exercises. And boxing. And judo. Swimming. Alright in weight training. He fails spectacularly at most all else, whatever reason, making his goal– to bulk up for his first action hero role– incredibly difficult for Derek.
“I may need you to demonstrate it again,” Stiles says, looking up from under his lashes at Derek.