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I have a tendency to refer to myself in the third person and this is my blog about anything that happens to please my obsessive fangirl heart, with some other stuff thrown in to spice it up.
reblog posted 1 year ago with 16 notes →
Sometimes, when Stiles gets super stressed out, he just feels the need to dance. It’s what he used to do with his mom, all the time, because she was a professional dancer, way back before she got pregnant with him. It used to make his dad laugh, how Stiles was the most clumsy kid he’d ever seen but the moment he started dancing he could make a swan look awkward. After she died he didn’t dance in front of his dad anymore, it just made him too sad.
He still went to the dance studio in town though, even if it’s only sporadically. The woman who runs it is a family friend, was his mom’s best friend, and allows him to join any class whenever he wants. Occasionally she’ll even ask him to teach one or two if something pops up and she can’t.
His favorite classes are the hip-hop ones and the ballet. It’s a large difference, but he can’t help it. They’re both so much more physical than any other style, they require so much more than anything else. In ballet it’s all about expressing yourself while staying within the very strict set of movements and sometimes that’s exactly what he needs. Other times, he just likes to go crazy, to just move his body in any way that it wants to go and hip hop is the answer.
Like today. He’d come to the studio right after school and used his spare key to get in. He kept a change of clothes in his jeep but decided to forgo most of it, just slipping into the loose sweats and stretching with a bare torso to match his feet. He turns on the music, he doesn’t even care what it is because right now he’s willing to dance to anything with a beat.
He’s actually a little surprised that it’s Shakira because Lauren has professed to hate Shakira in the past, but he’s grateful. Shakira is just what he needs. He finishes stretching because he’s high off of pent up energy, he’s not stupid and then he just begins to move. Sometimes, when he’s dancing, he feels like he’s flying and it’s wonderful. The best feeling in the world.
Only, he might have found something he likes just as much. Because when he stops, chest heaving and sweat making all of his bare skin glisten, Derek is standing in the doorway with this look on his face as if he’s been completely blown away and is really, really turned on. Stiles throws him a smirk as he grabs his water bottle and takes a long drink, a little bit escaping from the corner of his mouth to flow down the side of his throat.
Stiles can feel Derek’s eyes follow it down to his chest and then just stay there, taking in the fact that Stiles actually has pretty well developed muscles. Stiles puts the water bottle back down and, just to be mean, reaches to place his palms flat on the floor, leaving his ass in the air for Derek’s viewing pleasure. And Stiles loves the fact that the studio is lined with mirrors because he gets to watch Derek watch him as he moves through his stretches.
His smirk turns into a laugh when Derek finally swears and then stalks over to grab Stiles, hauling him upright so that he can shut him up with a very, very hot kiss while fisting one hand in the hair that Stiles has been letting grow out and letting the other dips into his pants to grab at his ass. Stiles fights back, shoving his hands underneath Derek’s shirt to explore all those muscles in his back.
Derek puts put hands underneath his ass and just lift hims up so that he can slam him against the wall of mirrors, the one without the ballet bar, and Derek just starts pressing the hottest open mouthed kisses into Stiles’ neck, sucking the skin until Stiles knows that they’re going to leave marks. And the entire time Stiles keeps eye contact with himself in the mirror across the room, watching as Derek just takes him apart.

Sometimes, when Stiles gets super stressed out, he just feels the need to dance. It’s what he used to do with his mom, all the time, because she was a professional dancer, way back before she got pregnant with him. It used to make his dad laugh, how Stiles was the most clumsy kid he’d ever seen but the moment he started dancing he could make a swan look awkward. After she died he didn’t dance in front of his dad anymore, it just made him too sad.

He still went to the dance studio in town though, even if it’s only sporadically. The woman who runs it is a family friend, was his mom’s best friend, and allows him to join any class whenever he wants. Occasionally she’ll even ask him to teach one or two if something pops up and she can’t.

His favorite classes are the hip-hop ones and the ballet. It’s a large difference, but he can’t help it. They’re both so much more physical than any other style, they require so much more than anything else. In ballet it’s all about expressing yourself while staying within the very strict set of movements and sometimes that’s exactly what he needs. Other times, he just likes to go crazy, to just move his body in any way that it wants to go and hip hop is the answer.

Like today. He’d come to the studio right after school and used his spare key to get in. He kept a change of clothes in his jeep but decided to forgo most of it, just slipping into the loose sweats and stretching with a bare torso to match his feet. He turns on the music, he doesn’t even care what it is because right now he’s willing to dance to anything with a beat.

He’s actually a little surprised that it’s Shakira because Lauren has professed to hate Shakira in the past, but he’s grateful. Shakira is just what he needs. He finishes stretching because he’s high off of pent up energy, he’s not stupid and then he just begins to move. Sometimes, when he’s dancing, he feels like he’s flying and it’s wonderful. The best feeling in the world.

Only, he might have found something he likes just as much. Because when he stops, chest heaving and sweat making all of his bare skin glisten, Derek is standing in the doorway with this look on his face as if he’s been completely blown away and is really, really turned on. Stiles throws him a smirk as he grabs his water bottle and takes a long drink, a little bit escaping from the corner of his mouth to flow down the side of his throat.

Stiles can feel Derek’s eyes follow it down to his chest and then just stay there, taking in the fact that Stiles actually has pretty well developed muscles. Stiles puts the water bottle back down and, just to be mean, reaches to place his palms flat on the floor, leaving his ass in the air for Derek’s viewing pleasure. And Stiles loves the fact that the studio is lined with mirrors because he gets to watch Derek watch him as he moves through his stretches.

His smirk turns into a laugh when Derek finally swears and then stalks over to grab Stiles, hauling him upright so that he can shut him up with a very, very hot kiss while fisting one hand in the hair that Stiles has been letting grow out and letting the other dips into his pants to grab at his ass. Stiles fights back, shoving his hands underneath Derek’s shirt to explore all those muscles in his back.

Derek puts put hands underneath his ass and just lift hims up so that he can slam him against the wall of mirrors, the one without the ballet bar, and Derek just starts pressing the hottest open mouthed kisses into Stiles’ neck, sucking the skin until Stiles knows that they’re going to leave marks. And the entire time Stiles keeps eye contact with himself in the mirror across the room, watching as Derek just takes him apart.