let my roots take flight
Stiles takes one step into the 100° room and immediately tries to backpedal. Lydia's nails into the soft parts of his sides stop him instantly.
"Don't you dare, Stiles. You promised." She doesn't even bother with the puppy eyes that Scott would attempted. She doesn't need them.
"That was before you told me I was going to die of heatstroke. My fragile body isn't built for this kind of stress. Do I look like someone who belongs in a hot yoga class? Do I look like someone who's going to survive this?"
Lydia looks unimpressed. "Don't even think about it, Stiles. We made a deal and even though you already set up your date with Chris doesn't mean I can't call him up and tell him about that time you mistook your fridge for a toilet."
"Okay! Okay, I've got it. I'm here but someone better have the medics on speed dial because there's no way I'm going to survive this."
The yoga room is dim and fairly full of young and middle-aged women on brightly colored yoga mats. The thermometer says the room is at 100° but if you ask Stiles, he's pretty sure he's never been so hot in his life.
That's until the instructor walks in and Stiles wonders how difficult it is to do hot yoga with a boner.
He's definitely not going to survive this.
The instructor is a dark, grumpy looking young man who's probably in his mid-20s. His lack of expression is seriously made up for by his painfully attractive face, arms, hair, chest and…basically everything.
"Too bad yoga isn't a hands-on sport," Stiles mutters under his breath and apparently he doesn't do it nearly quietly enough because he can hear Lydia's snort and Mr. Grumpy Yoga Hottie whips his head around to stare at Stiles.
Oh god, please don't let Mr. Grumpy Yoga Hottie be one of those people who is personally offended when others appreciate him.
Mr. Grumpy Yoga Hottie clears his throat and the murmur of chatter that had been coming from some of the soccer moms stops immediately.
"At the bottoms of your mats," Mr. Grumpy Yoga Hottie turns to faces the class and Stiles mourns the view of his ass that he just lost but feels a little placated when he catches a glimpse of Mr. Hottie's name tag. Derek.
Derek. Stiles can definitely work with that.
Derek murmur's "child's pose" and the whole room collapses down to their knees.
Stiles can't see anything but the blue ridges of the mat his forehead is resting on but he hears light footsteps around the room that seem to follow Derek's voice.
"This is an all levels class so please feel free to adjust all poses to your level. Simplify poses or alter to challenge yourself as necessary. Remember to breathe, remember to drink water. Remember child's pose is always available to you. Now if you can all firm your hands into the mat and press up into upward dog, we'll begin. Try to keep up."
Stiles still has his face against the mat but he can hear the smirk in Derek's voice, he doesn't need to see it.
As it turns out, upward-facing dog is pretty uncomfortable with half a boner.
Stiles presses up into downward dog and when there's hands at his hips pulling them up and back he yelps. No one told him hot yoga was interactive.
He's balancing awkwardly on his hands and toes and Derek holds him for a moment to let him get his balance. Stiles is torn between wishing Derek would dig his hands in and grip harder and wishing he'd let go immediately because Stiles knows he is quite literally dripping with sweat. Hopefully that isn't a deal breaker for Derek.
Derek has them go through some fast-paced series of downward dogs, upwards dogs and something called chair that Stiles hates immediately. Stiles is feeling a little shaky and definitely melting from the heat when Derek orders them into something called three-legged dog but sounds more like a gravity-defying sex position.
But he sticks his leg up in the air like a good little yoga student and prays that he doesn't look nearly as ridiculous as he feels. This time though, when Derek places a firm hand on the foot Stiles has in the air Stiles sees him coming. He straightens Stiles knee and puts his body flush against Stiles' left side so that Stiles has a moment to balance in the new position. Wow that hurts, but even if it's upside-down and in strange yoga/sex positions Derek can feel free to press himself up against Stiles anytime he likes. Literally. Anytime.
"Shit," Stiles mumbles because not only is this painful, but balancing is difficult when you've got sweat dripping down your arms to tickle your fingers.
Derek's hand tightens the moment Stiles says something and if manhandling is always a part of hot yoga, maybe Stiles could learn to like this.
"You okay?" Up close, Derek's voice is deep but quiet and he seems to be genuinely waiting on an answer.
Stiles huffs, "Yeah, I just had no idea this was anatomically possible."
Stiles feels the small huff of laughter that comes from Derek even though he barely hears it.
"If you can, now stack your hips, bend your knee and open. Heel to your ear." Stiles has no idea what that means but luckily Derek doesn't leave and when Derek's hands curl around Stiles' knee and hip, Stiles forgets how to breathe. It is way too easy to imagine Derek's hands on those places under very different circumstances. Like when they're on a bed and Derek's dragging him to right where he wants him and…
Maybe now, while he's upside with Derek balancing half his weight isn't the best time to get hard. Stiles really hopes his shorts are looser than he remembered. He also prays that the sweat that's sticking his shirt to him like glue isn't doing the same thing to his shorts.
Derek leaves Stiles' side after the variety of downward and three-legged dogs and Stiles misses the strong hands and warm body all through the Warrior poses and Triangle poses and all the odd twists.
Stiles is hot and shaky by the time things slow down and when Derek orders them into shoulder stands, Stiles isn't sure he's going the energy left to make it up there.
He's got his hands on his back and his legs sort of up in the air when Derek comes over, straightens them so his feet are right over his hips and then slowly drops Stiles' feet over his head to the floor and woah.
"Deaf man's pose," Derek says and Stiles doesn't know what that is but when Derek puts a hand on his back, just above his ass and another on the back of his thighs, Stiles feels so ready to find out.
Derek presses his legs down and his back up and Stiles isn't sure he's going to be able to walk anytime soon.
Eventually Derek lets him release the pose and the class goes through a few more poses before it finishes and after their Namaste, Stiles flops back onto his mat in exhaustion.
Lydia kicks his foot but he doesn't open his eyes.
"Go on without me," he groans out, waving a hand.
"I didn't think we had plans to go anywhere..." and damn if that voice isn't way too deep to be Lydia's, "yet."
Oh hell yeah. Stiles is so behind that plan. Or in front of it. Or on top of it. Or anywhere near it really.
A/N:I've got way too much time on my hands. Also, all of the poses are actual poses and yes, some of them can hurt. While I certainly don't claim to be an expert on yoga at all I am familiar with all of these poses. Please remember that while I do have Stiles in pain during some of these poses, there is a difference between pain that comes from strengthening the body and pain that harms the body.