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Summary
"Okay!" Stiles throws his hands up, "We’re getting off topic."
"You’re right," Derek smirks at him over his own coffee, "You needed my help with something?"
Stiles narrows his eyes, as if totally aware of Derek exuding smugness over having won that particular argument, and then blurts out, “I need your help filming porn.”
Derek had been taking a victory sip of pumpkin spice latte, and promptly chokes on it. Stiles looks briefly triumphant, and then begins chewing on a thread trailing from one of his fingerless gloves.
