Going to the gym is torture. Sweet torture, but still torture. It’s been about sixty days since he made the bet to start working out, and he can see the benefits to regular fitness in the way he doesn’t get out of breath chasing suspects and the way his shirts are starting to fit a little snugger around his biceps. Erica’s told him his thighs are looking so good that she’s considering using a free pass from Boyd to get between them, and even Scott’s commented on how nice Stiles’ ass is looking. Of course, that remark had been followed by Scott telling him that his ass has always been nice and tight, but it’s just more toned now. Considering Scott’s straight, that’s a pretty good compliment.

So, yeah, there is definitely pay off for this whole five days a week at the gym thing. However, he’s not sure if it’s worth giving himself carpal tunnel from jacking off so much in the past two months that he’s surprised his dick isn’t chafed. The reason he even decided to start going to the gym was because Isaac is a trainer at Hale’s Gym, and he’d been drunkenly mouthing off about how Stiles was eating too many donuts now that he’s a cop, being snarky and stupid to the point where Stiles almost strangled him with his stupid scarf. Instead, he’d somewhat drunkenly accepted the challenge of working out for three months to see just how good Isaac was at his job.

The problem happened when Stiles had got his membership set up at Hale’s two days later, sober and cursing Isaac for knowing how to convince him to do stupid shit so well, and he found out that Isaac wasn’t working that day. When he tried to leave, Cora, one of the co-owners of the gym, had glared at him until he’d been too scared to move. That’s how he’d ended up with a Greek God for his personal trainer. Derek Hale is gorgeous. The most beautiful person Stiles has ever seen, and he hangs out with a group of incredibly attractive people who often give him a bit of a complex because he’s nowhere near their level of hotness. Derek like blows that hotness scale up.

There are muscles that Stiles finds incredibly distracting when he’s panting and sweaty from a workout. Abdominal muscles that are easily an eight pack, maybe even twelve. Biceps that Stiles wants to feel flex under his hands as he pins them against a mattress. Thigh muscles that Erica can never, ever see because they make Stiles’ look like nothing. He wants to ride those strong thighs so badly that he’s jerked off a dozen times just imagining it. There’s always stubble on Derek’s jaw, sometimes a soft beard and sometimes just a five o’clock shadow that must grow as soon as he shaves. But, really, it’s his eyes that Stiles noticed first, that he still gets lost in whenever Derek is bossing him around and forcing him to do exercises he thought he’d never have to do again after finishing the academy.

So, yes, sweet torture. Sweet because he gets to be around Derek, who isn’t as big of an asshole as he originally seemed when he’d been barking out orders and demanding Stiles listen instead of just standing there gawking. Oh, he’s definitely a certain level of asshole, but it’s mostly all show because Stiles has seen him with his sisters, Cora and Laura, and he’s a big old softie beneath the broad shoulders and grumpiness. Stiles has also seen members of the gym being completely inappropriate with him, staring and flirting and trying to touch like he’s somehow part of their membership, and it pisses Stiles off a lot.

Fortunately, he noticed that when they first met, and he’s taken great efforts to not be like any of those lecherous women and men who seem to think Derek’s just eye candy for their enjoyment. While he’s definitely hot as the sun, he’s also a big old nerd who spouts off historical facts as motivation and has engaged in a two hour argument with Stiles over fan theories for Star Wars and Harry Potter. He’s a Hufflepuff with adorable bunny teeth and a shyness that makes Stiles’ heart feel funny, in a sappy way. Okay, fine, Stiles is pretty much in love with him, which is pathetic. Derek probably isn’t even into guys. Derek’s only mentioned two exes, both women, and he doesn’t seem to pay attention to anyone who’s interested in him, male or female.

Stiles has a bad habit of falling for unattainable higher beings that would never so much as look at a mere mortal like him, and it’s not something he’s grown out of even at the age of twenty-six.

There’s only another month until Stiles has fulfilled his end of the wager with Isaac. He’ll win, and he can stop going to the gym. It’ll definitely save him money, since the membership fee plus the personal training fees aren’t cheap. It’s a habit now, though. He’s made some friends, the three elderly ladies who come in to do water aerobics think he’s adorable and call him Officer in a flirty before pinching his ass, and he really likes Laura, who’s friendly and always checking on him when he’s working out on his own. Cora’s not even that bad, though she beats his ass anytime she challenges him to running laps or swimming.

And, of course, there’s Derek. He doesn’t want to not see Derek five days a week. Hell, he’s been tempted to come in on his days off, which are usually gym free so he can be lazy, just to see Derek and maybe get a conversation going on when they aren’t personal trainer and client. But maybe it would be better for him to not see Derek. He’s in pretty deep after just two months, and he’s too old to do this unrequited pining bullshit that never ends well for him. One of these days, he knows Derek will actually find someone that he wants to date, and he deserves happiness, but Stiles doesn’t want to have to watch him happy with someone else. Someone who isn’t Stiles.

“Rough day at work?”

The question pulls Stiles out of his head, and he looks over to see Derek leaning against the column by Stiles’ treadmill. “Huh? No, I mean, it was pretty dull,” he says, forcing himself not to blatantly look Derek over.

“You were scowling,” Derek points out, his eyebrows talking as he studies Stiles. “You’re also late for our appointment. I was about to call to make sure everything was alright when Laura mentioned that you came in a while ago to do cardio.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.” Stiles powers off the treadmill, moving off of it so he doesn’t do something clumsy like fall, again, because he can only handle that kind of humiliation around Derek once, thank you very much. “I was zoned out. Lost track of time.”

“It’s fine. You’re my last client of the day, so we’ll just extend your training time so you can get the full hour you’re paying for,” Derek says, frowning slightly as he looks over Stiles’ shoulder. “What were you wanting to focus on today?”

“Weights.” Stiles shrugs when Derek looks at him and arches a brow. “I know I’m not usually a huge fan, but I have some excess energy I need to burn, and I’ve heard lifting can help with that.”

“Any form of exercise can help with that,” Derek points out. “But you can do a few sets to work on your upper body. We haven’t focused there in two weeks.” He looks at Stiles’ arms for a moment before reaching out to squeeze his biceps. “What we’ve been doing seems to work well for you, but you can progress to another level, if you want.”

The feel of Derek’s hand on his bare skin is surprising. Derek’s never touched him unless it’s been in the course of instruction, and Stiles feels like his skin is on fire from that brief squeeze, so it’s probably good that Derek isn’t like some of the other trainers who are more touchy feely. Stiles wouldn’t survive it. His arm flexes beneath Derek’s grip, and suddenly Derek lets go, taking a step back as he blinks at Stiles.

“I guess we can progress if you think I’m ready,” Stiles tells him, not entirely sure what just happened. “I mean, I’m doing this to tone up, not get all built like you are, so nothing too hardcore.”

“You’ve been ready for weeks. You just aren’t that fond of the weights, so I haven’t pushed,” Derek admits, running his fingers through his hair as he looks away. His voice is gruff when he adds, “Come on. Let’s go to the weight room.”

Since Derek seems to be in a cranky mood, Stiles doesn’t reply. He just follows him to the area of the gym with the weights, feeling rather proud of himself for not trying to provoke Derek into talking. Usually, when Derek gets all grumpy and professional, Stiles pokes at him until he either loosens up or snaps, since either option usually makes Derek get over whatever causes the mood. Today, he’s a little moody himself, so he doesn’t bother. When they stop at a free weight bench, Stiles checks everything the way Derek taught him before sitting down.

“Is something wrong?” Derek asks quietly as he’s removing some of the weights to get the total to something Stiles can manage. “You seem different today.”

“Nope.” Stiles glances back at him. “Are you alright?”

“Fine.” Derek’s eyebrows do their judgmental thing before he straightens up. “You’re set.”

“Thanks.” Stiles reaches up and starts pulling the weights, pleased that he’s able to do it without much strain at all. Compared to the first time he tried this, he’s made a lot of progress. He can’t help grinning. “I’m not that bad, am I?”

“You’re amazing.” Derek blinks and ducks his head, the tips of his ears flushing as he adjusts something on the machine. “I mean, when I think about that first day, you’ve definitely had amazing improvement.”

“You promised we’d never speak about that first day,” Stiles mutters, remembering how embarrassing it had been to sit here and have Derek continue removing weights until Stiles was finally able to lift the stupid thing. It had been thirty pounds, and that had been a bit of a strain at the time. Now, he’s doing a hundred without even sweating that much. “In fact, you said you’d forget all about it if I actually showed up for my second session because you didn’t believe I would.”

“You were treating the whole thing like a joke, and you kept asking where Isaac was instead of listening to me,” Derek grumbles. “I thought you were one of those gym groupies who just signs up for sessions to try flirting with the trainers, and that you were into Isaac and probably wouldn’t show up again.”

“Isaac is a jackass. If I was going to flirt with a trainer, it wouldn’t be him. He’s not my type.” Stiles looks at Derek as he pulls the weights up, noticing that Derek’s staring at him. When Derek realizes Stiles is looking his way, he glances behind him, focusing on something else. “Anyway, I would never want to be mistaken for those groupies because they treat you like you’re a piece of meat. It’s just wrong, and you don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Derek looks at him intently, those pretty eyes staring into Stiles’ eyes in a way that makes his breath catch, like he’s stumbled into some fluffy romance novel or something. Derek’s expression becomes curious, his brow furrowing as his lips quirk. “Is that why you never flirt with me? Because you don’t want to be like the people who come here expecting to pay for something other than training?”

“I don’t flirt because I’m a really bad flirt when I like someone. If it’s just casual flirting, I can totally do it, but I just can’t do it when I’m seriously interested,” Stiles admits, smiling wryly before looking away from Derek. “I also don’t really handle rejection well, so I avoid putting myself into situations where I’ll be forced to deal with it.”

“Huh.” Derek keeps staring at him like he can somehow read Stiles’ mind. Thank God he can’t or Stiles wouldn’t be able to show his face around here again. The last thing he needs is for Derek to realize he’s thinking about how much more fun this would be if he were getting his work out by fucking Derek against the wall. That’d definitely require good arm strength, after all. Derek pulls him out of his increasingly dirtier thoughts by clearing his throat. “That’s enough of that. How do your arms feel?”

“Tingling,” Stiles says. “Not in a bad way. I just haven’t lifted that long in a while. So, what next?”

“Let’s do your legs.” Derek leads Stiles to a different machine, and he studies him a moment before he actually touches Stiles’ calf. “Move them like this,” he says, tone professional but soft as he carefully positions Stiles’ legs. When Derek’s hands brush against his inner thighs, Stiles has to bite his lip to keep from moaning because that feels so good, but it’s way too close to his dick, which is twitching a little.

“I think I got it.” Stiles coughs and shifts slightly, narrowing his eyes when he notices the slight smile on Derek’s lips as his fingers flex against Stiles’ thighs.

“Alright. I’m upping the weight this time.” Derek casually drags his fingers down Stiles’ bare legs before he fixes the weights. “Lift.”

“Holy fuck, that’s a lot,” Stiles groans as his leg muscles pull from trying to lift the weight. “I don’t have thighs of steel like you, Derek. That’s too much.”

“It isn’t too much.” Derek straddles the bench behind Stiles, which what? His chest is against Stiles’ back, his breath on his neck, and he’s moving his hands down Stiles’ arm. “Just concentrate. Work through the pain. I wouldn’t give you more than you can handle, Stiles. Relax for me and take it all.”

Stiles whimpers because what the hell is Derek doing? He’s talking so quiet, low and intimate against Stiles’ ear, and it’s making him think about dirty naked things because, seriously? Relax and take it all? That’s something Stiles would say to someone he’s fucking. Not someone lifting weights. “What game are you playing, Derek?” he asks, feeling Derek’s hands on his arms tighten their grip.

“I’m not playing, Stiles.” Derek’s beard rubs against his neck as he leans in closer. “Keep trying. I know you can do it. Just lift your legs, enjoy the burn, that’s it. Up and down. You’re doing so well.”

“Not playing my ass.” Stiles lets the weights fall, moving off the bench and staring at Derek. When Derek ducks his head, refusing to meet his gaze, he knows what happened was deliberate. “I thought you were better than this, Derek. I’m sorry if my ridiculous feelings somehow made you uncomfortable, but I’ve never done anything like that to you, never tried to humiliate you that way. You can fuck off.”

“What? Stiles, I didn’t…” Derek stands up but Stiles ignores him as he turns to walk away.

He’s so angry and hurt that he could punch something, and he isn’t about to let something stupid happen that might jeopardize his career. He storms past the reception desk, glaring at Laura when she asks him if everything’s alright, and he enters the locker rooms still upset and frustrated. His hands are shaking so bad that he can’t even get the combination of his lock to work, which just adds more to the stress. He’s blinking a lot, trying not to let frustrated tears fall, trying again to get his lock to open because his wallet and keys are in there.

“Stiles, calm down.” Derek is suddenly there, hand on Stiles’ hands, making him let go of the lock. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I wasn’t trying to humiliate you.”

“Then what we were you doing?” Stiles pulls his hands away, turning so he’s facing Derek. Fortunately, there’s no one else in the locker room right now, but he still keeps his voice low because someone could be in the showers or the toilet stall. “You figured out I like you, and then you start making suggestive remarks in my ear knowing how I’d react.”

“That’s not…” Derek shakes his head and frowns at Stiles. “I was trying to flirt, you stubborn ass. I’ve been into you from the beginning, but I had no idea you felt the same way even if I’d hoped. Then you made that comment about the groupies, and I watched and listened. I realized that you are interested, so I was trying to make a move.”

“Telling me relax and take it all isn’t flirting, Derek. It’s like sex talk,” Stiles says, tugging on his hair. He stops as he realizes what Derek’s just said. “Wait, you’re into me? Like wanting to date? Or just like one night stand of amazing sex?”

“Like dating and many nights of amazing sex and snuggling after,” Derek mutters, a flush appearing high on his cheekbones as the tips of his ears turn red. “My sisters have told me that you’re interested, but you’ve never even tried flirting at all, so I didn’t believe them. Today, I realized maybe you are, but I’m not very good at flirting, alright? I had to do something, though, to make sure I was right and not just getting my hopes up.” He smiles wryly. “I just…I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did,” Stiles agrees. “But I did, too. I mean, I know you aren’t the type to do something like that, but I let my insecurities get the best of me.” He looks Derek over the way he has many times when Derek’s not around to notice, meeting his gaze and smiling slightly. “I didn’t want you to think I was just after you because you’re smoking hot. It’s a nice bonus, but I like you, the dorky Hufflepuff who somehow thinks quoting Churchill when I’m about to fall over from running laps is inspiring. Even if you’re totally wrong about Jar Jar Binks, I’m into you, Derek Hale, and I really hope you say something soon because this is starting to get embarrassing.”

“I’m not wrong about Jar Jar,” Derek says, flashing a smile unlike any Stiles has seen before. It makes his eyes crinkle, and Stiles is so annoyed because how can Derek look even better than he already does? It’s so unfair. He’s about to point out the injustice of that when Derek leans forward and kisses him. It’s a gentle kiss, lips pressing against his, fingers gently gripping the side of his face as Derek steps closer. Stiles returns the kiss, moving his fingers into Derek’s hair, holding him in place as he presses back, moving his lips against Derek’s.

They pull apart, and Stiles blinks at him. “For the record, you’re welcome to kiss me instead of talking any time you want,” he tells him. Derek huffs a laugh and then they’re kissing again. A little less tender before. The locker is soon against Stiles’ back as Derek licks at his lips, hands moving down to grip his ass, squeezing in a way that makes him think maybe Derek’s had this fantasy before, which really turns him on. Stiles licks back, flicking his tongue out to lap at Derek’s lips. When he opens his mouth, Derek takes advantage, sweeping his tongue inside and deepening the kiss.

Stiles moves his hand to Derek’s waist, pushing his shirt up and stroking bare skin that’s damp with sweat. Derek groans into the kiss, moving one of his hands off Stiles’ ass and pushing his own shirt up, stroking the small of his back as he sucks on Stiles’ tongue. They kiss until a locker slamming reminds them where they are, Derek pulling back and staring at Stiles as he tries to catch his breath. It sounds like Derek’s been running a marathon, and Stiles can’t resist smiling smugly because he caused that reaction.

“You need to fire me,” Derek murmurs, releasing Stiles’ ass and fixing his shirt before reaching up to stroke his jaw. “I shouldn’t have even kissed you when I’m still technically your employee.”

“That's easy enough. You’re fired,” Stiles tells him, still feeling smug and aroused and slightly disbelieving that this is actually really happening. “I don’t need a personal trainer anymore. I do, however, want a boyfriend. Know anyone who might be interested?”

“Boyfriend huh?” Derek’s smile is adorably shy. “I think I know someone who might be perfect for you. That'd be me, of course. Would you want to go out to dinner tonight to see if I’d be a good match?”

“I’d like that,” Stiles whispers, looking at Derek’s mouth before looking back into those pretty eyes. “Say about seven? It gives me time to shower and get ready.”

“That sounds great.” Derek kisses him again, keeping it sweet and innocent, especially compared to them nearly getting it on against the lockers before they’d even had their first date. “I’m going to go let Laura know that you’ve ended our contract, and I’ll pick you up at seven. Do you like Mexican food?”

“Love it.” Stiles grins as he watches Derek leave the locker room, almost tripping over someone’s bag because he keeps looking back at Stiles. “By the way, I already know you’re going to be a perfect match for me, Derek.” Derek just smiles at him, eyes crinkling up as he leaves the locker room.

When Derek’s gone, Stiles can’t help but do a little happy dance, shimmying around and punching the air because Derek Hale is into him and wants to date him. They’re going to be so good together. He can just feel it in his gut, knows this is the real thing, and he can’t believe he almost lost it because of his own insecurities. Thank God Derek followed him to talk because Stiles can’t wait for their date tonight. And lots more kissing.