Chapter Text
It was pack night and Peter decided to follow the invitation even though he was aware he was only being invited because Scott McCall was incapable of seeing himself as anything but fair and Peter was technically pack.
He decided to go because in order to stay pack he had to have at least some small amount of regular interaction with the other pack members. And since it had been suspiciously quiet the last three weeks he hadn’t seen anybody but Stiles.
And Stiles, no matter how stupid it was for Scott to let that happen, wasn’t actually pack.
Peter didn’t understand it.
Stiles kept the pack together, he balanced everyone out, he was the one who mediated all discussions and made sure they got shit done.
He also was the one to most often come up with the actual plan and the one who did a large part of the research.
Not to mention Stiles was a magic prodigy.
Not that Scott or the others were actually aware of that.
Peter only knew because Stiles was borrowing progressively more challenging books on magic from him and they chatted about his improvements and the general topic of spellwork and other kinds magic.
At this point Peter would think hard and long before considering crossing Stiles.
That boy wasn’t a weak little boy anymore at all, he was from everything Peter knew and also could smell and otherwise sense one of the most skilled and versatile magic users in the area.
On the continent.
Possibly in the western hemisphere.
And none of the others knew. Not even Derek recognized that distinct smell of ozone on Stiles’ skin or the slight tickling one got at the nape when Stiles was close to you.
And it wasn’t even like Stiles was actively hiding anything.
He often suggested a magical solution only for somebody to say that might be a difficult spell to pull off and they should ask Deaton if it can be done.
If Stiles then told them he was certain he had seen a spell for that and could pull it off he was dismissed, often outright.
Neither Scott nor Derek believed Stiles had any actual abilities and the rest of the pack followed their lead on that assumption.
Sometimes Peter wanted to knock their heads together and tell them how blind and thick they were being but then he reminded himself it was not his decision to make.
It was Stiles’ life and his choice if he told them or not.
So, pack night.
They decided to watch “Save the Last Dance”, a movie all of them could agree was enjoyable - which was a small miracle.
Through the entire debate which movie to watch Peter waited for Stiles to join them, but he didn’t and it made him sadder than he had expected.
Sure, Stiles was the one person Peter actually liked without any reservations. And he might be the one person Peter even remotely looked forward to seeing. But it wasn’t like it had been that long.
Stiles had swung by Peter’s apartment four days ago.
And yet Peter started to feel more and more bummed out the later it got and the more obvious it became Stiles would probably not attend this evening.
He was even slightly worried Stiles might be sick, and that felt like a very strange thought, but he did not feel like asking Scott or somebody else why Stiles wasn’t there.
Maybe he should just text him?
Yeah, if he had to suffer through this he wanted to know why the only bearable person of the group wasn’t here to sooth his starting headache.
Peter: Any excuses why you aren’t here and preventing me from tearing your little friend’s throats out for shouting at each other about what movie to watch?
He placed the phone on the armrest of his chair and looked at the starting movie.
A few minutes later it vibrated with an incoming message.
Stiles: What do you mean?
Peter: [Picture of the TV screen and Erica’s and Isaac’s heads in front of him] Pack night.
It wasn’t like Stiles to miss a preplanned thing. Maybe he was really busy today and just had not immediately realized what Peter was talking about.
His phone vibrated again.
Stiles: WTF! Nobody TOLD ME!!!!
Peter: Scott probably forgot.
He saw the dots indicate Stiles was writing. Then they disappeared but no message was arriving on his end. The dots appeared again and disappeared once more.
The movie was all but forgotten to Peter. He was way too focused on how Stiles was doing.
He heard another phone vibrate with a message and was about to dismiss it when he saw Scott reach for his pocket.
It obviously could be coincidence but most people who might message Scott were present so it was not all that paranoid to assume it might be Stiles.
He watched the young werewolf read the message, look around for a moment and type a very short response while his heartbeat sped up.
It was really embarrassing how transparent their ‘Alpha’ was when he lied.
Peter’s phone announced another message moments later.
Stiles: take a picture of scott
Peter complied and sent a picture of Scott sitting between Allison and Derek, watching the movie.
Derek looked over and raised one eyebrow in an unspoken question.
Peter ignored him and proceeded to take a few selfies so his nephew could file this under him being as self absorbed as everyone thought he was.
He waited and was about to pay attention to the movie again when he got another message.
Stiles: thanks
Peter looked at the words and tried to decide what they might mean.
Short, polite but unpersonal...the spark was probably losing his mind right now.
He contemplated to not get more involved than he already was but in the end he needed to know Stiles was ok.
Peter: Please let me know if you are freaking out.
He waited for Stiles to read the message, but he didn’t.
Maybe Peter should leave and go check on the younger man.
Stiles had sacrificed big parts of his life for Scott and the pack.
Being left out and actively lied to probably felt like a sledge hammer to his already brittle self-worth.
He could not deny how much contempt he felt for Scott right now.
Of course the others were complicit, not even questioning why Stiles wasn’t there, but Scott was supposed to be Stiles’ best friend.
Scott did not deserve someone as fierce, smart and loyal as the young spark.
It felt like ages but finally his phone buzzed again and he tried not to seem too hurried to see what it was.
Stiles: Am not
Stiles: Ixm mad but not surprised
Stiles: Idk what to do
Stiles: Why did h just lie to me like that
Peter: You just assume I know you messaged Scott?
Stiles: That’s a stupdi wuestion
Stiles: *stupid question
Stiles: Needed emphasizantment
Peter: That’s not a word.
Stiles: emphasization
Peter: Try again.
Stiles: emphasizing?
Peter: Three tries. I assume you are drunk?
Stiles: Your in no position t judge me I kno where u hav ur wolfsbane scotch asshle
Stiles’ spelling was giving him a headache but he was more concerned than frustrated.
Peter: Fair enough. Are you going to do something stupid?
Stiles: s killing a bottle of whiskey in ma shower and contemplating my life choices smthg stupid?
Peter: I can tell you, it isn’t all that smart.
Stiles: Careful zombiewolf somone could get the idea u might cared
That stung a little, but he supposed it wasn’t entirely unfair. Except for the fact Stiles was one of very few people he did actually care about.
Peter: I might
It took Stiles a while again to answer and all Peter got back when he did was one word.
Stiles: Liar
That was it.
Peter got up and went to leave.
Scott cleared his throat and let his eyes flare red.
“Where are you off to so suddenly Peter?”
The older werewolf rolled his eyes as he shrugged into his jacket.
“I’ve spent enough time here to extend my pack subscription for another moon or so and now something more interesting has come up.”
Lydia gave him a cruel smile.
“You’ll be missed.”
He smiled back just as charmingly.
“I wish I could return that notion.”
~*~
It took him twenty god damn minutes to reach Stiles’ flat.
He rang the door and was glad when he heard footsteps coming to the door after a few moments.
When it was opened Stiles stood in front of him, still in shirt and sweatpants but soaking wet.
The young man’s eyes widened in surprise and Peter pushed him back into the flat.
He was intentionally stepping into Stiles’ space and staring at him challengingly.
“Still calling me a liar Stiles?” he murmured somewhere between worried and threatening.
He saw the young man’s adam’s apple move as he swallowed and heard the click of his throat, how his breathing stopped for a moment.
He pushed the apartment door shut with one hand without breaking eye contact and then took another step towards Stiles.
“Still think I don’t care?”
His eyes wandered over the wet clothes clinging to Stiles’ tall and lithe frame.
He reached out to place his hand on Stiles’ neck, his eyes flashing beta blue.
“Stupid, stupid boy, of course I care.” he whispered even softer than he had intended.
Stiles stared for another moment but then silent tears welled up in his eyes and his lower lip started to quiver.
‘Fuck’ was all Peter could think.
Because in this moment, standing there, a crying, hurt Stiles in front of him all he could think was how unacceptable this was.
All he wanted was for Stiles to be okay and he realized he’d do whatever was in his power to achieve that.
He didn’t just care about Stiles, he loved him.
And wasn’t that fucking inconvenient.
He’d have time to contemplate his feelings later, right now Stiles needed him.
Hesitating a little Peter reached out and guided Stiles into a light hug.
Stiles accepted the comfort without question.
In fact as soon as Peter offered the hug Stiles was clinging to him like he was drowning, burying his face in Peter’s shoulder, his entire weight leaning against the werewolf, his body having lost most tension and apparently any will to move.
He didn’t mind.
Peter was strong enough to cradle Stiles effortlessly and carry him into the bedroom.
Whenever he spoke it was with a soft, caring voice.
“Darling boy, you need to change clothes. Can you do that?”
Stiles nodded and changed while Peter went into the bathroom to turn off the shower and bring the whiskey bottle he found in there into the kitchen for now.
When he came back Stiles was wearing new boxer briefs and a fresh graphic t-shirt.
“You should change too...I made you all wet when we hugged.”
Stiles mumbled hoarsely.
Peter was aware but did not know if it was a smart idea to wear something that had Stiles’ scent on it.
“I can’t get a cold, it’ll dry on its own.”
Stiles shook his head vehemently and then swayed a bit on the spot, prompting Peter to move closer to make sure he’d be there to catch him if necessary.
“I wanna lie down and I need you to stay...you gotta change.”
That made a surprising amount of sense for someone smelling so drunk but Peter could barely appreciate it because he was distracted by Stiles inviting him into bed.
Though it obviously made sense not to leave him alone like this.
“Okay” he agreed and started to take off his jacket, shirt, shoes and pants before putting on a pair of sweatpants and one of Stiles’ oversized shirts.
They climbed into bed and Peter furrowed his brows.
“It smells a bit like someone I don’t know.”
Stiles was lying on his back and turned his head away from the ceiling to look at Peter with mild confusion before he seemed to understand.
“Oh right...a bit over a week ago I had a one night stand. Is it bad?”
He couldn’t possibly explain how the smell of another man in Stiles’ bed made him want to wrap himself around Stiles and claim him with his hands, lips, tongue, teeth and entire body.
So he made a non-committal sound and then said “I’ll survive.”
Stiles looked back at the ceiling.
“Ok.”
They lay like this for a while and Peter might have thought Stiles had fallen asleep if it wasn’t for his heartbeat not slowing down enough.
Eventually there were more tears, once again silent as before. Peter gently nudge Stiles’ hand and he felt long, thin and cold fingers being tangled with his.
“How are you, darling?” he asked softly and Stiles sighed deeply and frustrated.
“You were right…” Stiles murmured, still with some hoarseness to his voice.
“Drinking because I’m hurt was a stupid thing to do. I don’t even feel that drunk...mostly queasy...and kinda dizzy and terrible and confused...and sad...”
What could he possibly say to that.
He knew how bad it hurt to basically give your entire life to a cause, sacrifice more than you ever thought capable of, kill your dreams in favor of helping others fulfill theirs and then be left behind by the same people.
He knew there was nothing that could be said.
It hurt and it would continue to hurt.
“I can’t help with the confusion or sadness I’m afraid. But I’ll stay with you if you want me to and I can drain the discomfort you are feeling right now.”
Stiles turned onto his side with a little suffering groan and looked at Peter with still wet eyes and cheeks.
“Thank you Peter. I don’t think...no pain drain right now please...but could you like I dunno...hold me?”
He felt his heart skip a beat and hated it.
Stiles was wonderful and smart and hurting, he did not deserve to have to deal with any of Peter’s stupid feelings.
So he pushed away any thoughts of Stiles asking him something like that in any other context and smiled warmly.
“Of course sweetheart. Come here.”
He pulled Stiles closer and wrapped him in his arms.
Immediately Stiles was burying his nose in the crook of Peter’s neck and hummed.
“You smell really good...what cologne is that?”
Peter did not hide his smile.
“I can’t stand colognes.”
Stiles hummed and dragged his nose against the skin of Peter’s neck again.
“Anyway...I like it.”
“I like the way you smell too darling.”
~*~
Peter stayed up this night, making sure Stiles was safe and sound in his drunken slumber.
He dozed a little here and there but for the most part he kept watch.
Once he had to go to the bathroom and Stiles’ sleepy protest warmed his heart almost as much as the way he was pulled back into bed the moment Stiles felt the mattress dip down again.
Peter wished this was his reality.
Being wanted by Stiles like this.
He wished it wasn’t just drunk and hurt Stiles needing something to hold on to.
But he would not give himself over to any illusions this might be more.
It was already more than he had ever thought he’d get and he was grateful Stiles actually felt this comfortable with him.
He was grateful he was able to be that for the man he loved.
That thought still bothered him though.
He had known he liked Stiles for quite a while, and only someone blind or extremely misguided would not consider Stiles physically attractive.
But loving...it had been a very long time since Peter had loved anybody or anything.
It was a luxury he had been glad he wasn’t inclined to.
Things you loved were things that could hurt you.
Of course it also gave one a purpose, which was good.
But it made him vulnerable and even worse, if anybody ever found out it would make Stiles a target.
Around 9 am Peter decided to get up and make breakfast.
Luckily Stiles was passionate about cooking so Peter did find all the needed ingredients for a good hangover breakfast.
Sweet Omelette, fresh fruit and Ginger Tea.
He was almost done with the second Omelette when the door to the bedroom opened and Stiles stumbled out, blinking a few times at the soft sunlight falling through the closed, white curtains.
“Good morning Stiles” Peter said gently and pointed with the spatula at the set kitchen table while holding the pan in his other hand.
“Sit down, food is almost ready.”
Stiles didn’t say anything but did as he had been told.
Peter finished up the second Omelette, brought the plate over, then went to the sink and came back, placing a glass of water and an aspirin next to the younger man.
“Drink up.”
Once again Stiles did as he was told.
They sat there eating in silence for a while until Peter decided to see if he could get Stiles to turn into more of himself by engaging him in light conversation.
“I must say, if I had had to guess what kind of books you read on the toilet I would not have said encyclopedias. Any reason why?”
Stiles plopped one of the blueberries into his mouth and smiled hesitantly.
“Ever since the Nogitsune I understand pretty much all languages he did. So I try to expand my general vocabulary instead of my vocabulary in a specific language.
I’m currently at Onomatopoeia. It means when you write out a sound.
No idea when that could get useful, but then again it’s only what I teach myself when sitting on the toilet.”
Peter smiled at Stiles finally talking to him and tried to find something to keep the conversation going.
“If nothing else maybe for crossword puzzles.”
The younger man snorted at that.
“Yeah, when will I ever find the time to do that again...”
It was true of course, they rarely had time for anything as slow-paced as sitting around doing crosswords but who knew.
“We could always leave and find somewhere else. A place where we have the luxury of doing something as trivial as puzzles or watching a rainy day go by…”
Stiles raised a brow at Peter.
“We?”
Had he said that? Apparently.
“Yes. We, you or I. I don’t mean to rub salt into the wound but we have a loose connection to the pack at best. Do you think I like to live like this? Making sure I don’t become an Omega is one of the main reasons I am still here. ”
Stiles gave him a quizzical look on that.
“You could always just find yourself an alpha to kill and leave.”
True but he also would have to leave if he ever became an alpha again. Scott would demand it and the rest of the pack would support Scott’s decision.
Killing someone for their power would also very likely be considered a fallback to his old evil ways and open Scott, Deaton, Allison and Lydia the door to even more fully condemning him and convincing Stiles to cease all contact.
Peter might be a masochist for wanting to spend time with Stiles even though he knew they’d never be more than acquaintances, possibly friends, but he was not masochistic enough to do anything that might mean he’d lose even that bit of contact.
“Like I said, it’s only one of the main reasons.”
That seemed to make Stiles even more curious.
“What other reasons are there?”
He had finished and stood up to start washing the dishes while Stiles still ate.
“My anchor is here.”
This was getting dangerous.
Stiles knew him well, better than most, he was one of the few people who were good at catching him in a lie. He was also one of the few people Peter had real reservations lying to.
But if Stiles asked the logical next question…
“What actually is your anchor?”
There it was.
You lead yourself into this trap Peter.
“I’d prefer not to say.”
Stiles stopped munching on the omelette.
“That’s okay of course. But you know I would never use that kind of information against you, right?”
He did.
And he nodded while scrubbing the plate.
“How is your hangover darling?”
With a look back he saw Stiles giving him a small, grateful smile.
“Not as bad as I feared it would be now. This is good food for a hangover. You really know a lot about human bodies for someone who never had one.”
Peter chuckled at that.
“Our pack had humans in it, family members that did not inherit the werewolf genes, human spouses too...I myself had human partners before...”
He felt something heavy and unpleasant grow in his chest.
God, remembering that time would probably always be more bitter than sweet.
So many innocent people he had not been able to safe.
Before he could drift too deep into the darkness of those memories he felt arms wrap around him from behind and a head being rested on his shoulder.
“I didn’t mean to wake any sad memories. I’m sorry.”
He closed his eyes for a moment at the lovely sensation of Stiles leaning into him from behind, holding him like this.
“It’s okay, it’s not like you can predict what topics will set it off. Not even I myself always know what might. You mention a dumpster fire and I’m fine but you ask about me knowing about taking care of a human and it sends me down a spiral of all the people that died…”
Stiles nodded and snuggled a little closer.
“Recovery is difficult. It’s amazing how far you’ve come Peter. And I am very thankful you came by last night to stop me from wallowing in my misery. I might not be pack to Scott, but you are pack to me.”
His heart skipped a beat at the idea.
Stiles as his packmate.
He loved that image.
“And you to me sweet boy.”
The dishes were all but forgotten when Stiles pressed his face against Peter’s neck and breathed against the skin there.
Was that instinctual? Was Stiles trying to imitate scenting behavior he had witnessed between the others? Was he aware of what he was doing?
“Maybe we really should leave Beacon Hills.”
Peter chuckled at Stiles joking about actually leaving with him, because thinking about how amazing it’d be if Stiles was serious was too painful.
But to Peter’s surprise Stiles continued.
“I could help you become an alpha again. And if you ever felt comfortable telling me about it I am sure together we could come up with a way to take your anchor with us.”
What was going on?
As lovely as this was Peter had to make sure Stiles was okay.
He turned in the younger man’s arms and cupped his face to look at his pupils, skin tone, veins and any other signs of physical or supernatural influence.
“What’s the problem Peter?”
Peter furrowed his brows.
“Please let me check your mouth.”
Stiles obediently opened it and Peter looked and felt for anything out of the ordinary while answering.
“The problem is, you just suggested to leave Beacon Hills. You didn’t even leave to study, even after I offered to finance your education. You said you couldn’t possibly leave your father, the pack or Scott…you even came back from Quantico after two weeks.”
Stiles reached up and pulled Peter’s hands from his face.
“That was over three years ago Peter. My dad has a very tight dietary regime now and Melissa to enforce it.
He has not had another heart attack ever since. Apparently the pack does not need me and Scott seems to agree with that.
And before you suggest I should find out first if there is another reason for Scott excluding me and lying to me, we both know that this isn’t a new development.
Yesterday was the final straw I needed to give up.
As it stands Beacon Hills mostly holds pain for me.
And as it seems for you as well.”
Peter let his hands fall and furrowed his brows.
“You can’t be serious. I mean, leaving Beacon Hills behind is the smart thing to do, in your case more so than most, because your talents are totally wasted in this crappy town. But…”
He did not know how to ask the question on his mind without sounding like he was fishing for compliments.
Why would Stiles want to keep him around of all people?
He felt Stiles’ finger tap his forehead where his brows almost met because of how he had them scrunched together.
“When you do this I suddenly see the similarity between you and Derek. I like that expression on you better though. Because having Derek look like that means I once again made a joke he didn’t get. With you it means for once I said something you actually have to think about. And it’s an expression that is almost exclusively mine.”
That only confused Peter more.
“You like seeing me confused?”
Stiles grinned at him, the cheeky bastard.
“I like seeing you being comfortable enough to no hide any hint of confusion behind a mask and a snarky comment. I like being someone special and valued to you.”
He still felt like he was missing something very essential in this conversation.
Then Stiles took Peter’s hands and Peter would have furrowed his brows more if it had been possible.
“If I am leaving anyway there is no reason to hide my feelings anymore. I mean if you don’t feel the same I won’t ever have to see you again and if you do, even better.”
What?
“I like you Peter. A lot. I don’t know where things would lead over time, but I like the idea of being with you, in a domestic, romantic and sexual sense. Though if one of those aspects would not be for you I think we could come to an arrangement that suits both of us.
And I think neither of us is a person of complete solitude but we also don’t feel extremely connected to most people.
We would be good together, maybe…”
Stiles voice got very hesitant and shy at the last words, like he barely dared to consider the possibility.
“...maybe even happy.”
His hands felt numb in Stiles’ grip, his mind was swimming.
He blinked a few times.
If he didn’t know Stiles had made sure nobody would ever be able to possess him again Peter would seriously consider that a possibility right now.
But as it was Stiles apparently had actually said all that.
And while there was the slight possibility of Stiles lying Peter did not know why he would, it made no sense.
As it was though nothing here really added up.
“I...I should have sensed something...Stiles there was never any sign- nothing…”
As nice as this idea, this fantasy was-
Stiles shook his head with a sad smile and let go of Peter’s hands to take off the silver necklace underneath his shirt.
Peter knew it, knew it too well. The pendant was a triskelion. He had always thought Stiles was using it to show his connection to the pack.
So he was a bit confused when he now saw Stiles now placed it on the countertop.
“You stupid wolves always rely so much on your instincts. Senses can be lied to Peter. May I kiss you?”
What?
“Uh…”
Was Stiles mocking him?
“It’s an easy question Peter. Yes or No.”
Fuck it, if this was the one time it might happen and Stiles was actively offering he might as well savor it.
Stay cool Peter.
“Sure.”
The smile on Stiles’ lips was amused but his hands were soft as he cupped Peter’s face and pulled him in gently.
Peter went willingly.
When Stiles’ tongue teased his lips to let it in he opened up and greeted with hesitant licks.
His other senses were automatically pulled into the experience and suddenly they gave him overwhelming signals.
Stiles’ heartbeat was up, he could smell adrenaline, excitement and anxiety in Stiles scent.
But also want.
Stiles reeked of it, and it only got stronger with each tender touch between their tongues and lips.
All Peter could fathom was a weak whimper of surprise.
He could feel the grin on Stiles’ lips against his mouth.
“Believe me now, idiot?”
It was hard not to.
“But-” Peter mumbled against Stiles’ lips.
“Why keep it from me so long?”
Another grin.
“I could ask you the same.”
Peter blinked and pulled back a little even though this was something he wanted to do all day long.
“I thought you had not interest. Now your turn.”
“Well” Stiles started and sat down on the kitchen table.
“I was afraid of the idea to have to see you all the time and work with you after you rejected me. I liked having your respect I did not want your pity. I was afraid of destroying the connection we have built.
But since I decided I will leave...what do I have left to lose?”
“I...still have to process that a little.”
Stiles smiled apologetic.
“Want me to convince you?”
Peter could not keep from smirking back.
“Would it involve more kissing?”
Stiles smirked back “And other things, if you are into those.”
Peter stepped closer, until he stood right in front of Stiles, between his legs, leaning in slightly.
“Tell me about those other things, beautiful.”