
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9796322.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Pre_Derek_Hale/Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski,
      pre_Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Peter_Hale, Derek_Hale, Kate_Argent, Sheriff_Stilinski,
      Jennifer_(Peter_Hale's_Nurse), Danny_Mahealani
  Additional Tags:
      Smut, Blowjobs, Shower_Sex, Couch_Sex, Couch_Cuddles, Exabitionism, is
      that_how_you_spell_it?, Exibitionism?, Clothed_Sex, Deepthroating, Come
      Swallowing, Rutting, Non-Penetrative_Sex, Stiles_Stilinski_is_Seventeen
      Years_Old, Magical_Stiles_Stilinski, Spark_Stiles_Stilinski, PTSD,
      Nightmares, mentions_of_phone_sex, Blood, Gore, Prequel_turned_actual
      continuation, Reunion_Sex, I_wrote_this_instead_of_homework, Allusions_to
      future_daddy_kink, But_i_dont_know_if_i_should_go_through_with_it, Alpha
      Peter, Beta_Derek, Werewolf_Mates, Mating_Bite, Scarred_Peter
  Series:
      Part 3 of My_Lost_Soul_(Lead_Me_to_Redemption)
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-02-17 Words: 6008
****** The Nonstalgia is Killing Me (Lead Me to the Now) ******
by kiranightshade
Summary
     The past warns us of the future.
     Let me sit.
     Let me listen.
     Let me learn.
     And maybe we'll be alright.
Notes
     I'll have you know I'm completely bullshitting these titles. And I
     almost had the inspiration to write Alleviation and then I lost it
     and wrote this instead.
     Alright, comment your opinion on Derek being Peter and Stiles' baby
     boy????? I've only just recently gotten comfortable reading daddy
     kink so I'm on the fence about it.
See the end of the work for more notes
Peter gasps awake as power like he’s never known flares to life inside him. He
shifts without thought, his claws shredding the sheets and his eyes giving the
dark room a red tint before he’s able to take a deep breath and shift back. He
licks the blood off his lips and wonders what could have happened to cause
this. Such power was his goal but the alpha Jennifer was luring wasn’t supposed
to be here for a few days. He can’t have been killed by him anyway because he’d
been here all night. Quickly, he sits up, frantically checking the covers and
the window only to find both as they should be, clean and shut. Moonlight
lights the room, mere days from fullness, from its home above the tree line and
Peter yearns. He aches to go and run until he’s exhausted and full from a
successful hunt. He can almost taste the meat of fresh deer just thinking about
it.
Instead, he stands and makes his way to the files Jennifer has hidden in his
room. There’s no hope of him going back to sleep after this. He might as well
be productive.
What he finds makes his teeth clench from the urge to shift again. He was too
weak, too vulnerable to catch the lie. All of the lies that bitch thought she
could get away with. His fists bleed as claws sink into his skin, but he barely
notices. Too busy trying to keep his eyes from flashing on and off.
Footsteps grow louder as they echo down the hall. Peter is already blended with
the shadows behind the door when Jennifer steps in, responding to his vitals no
doubt. It takes her a second to realize the empty bed isn’t coupled with the
open window like usual. To realize the full moon isn’t for another two days and
her secrets are laying exposed on the counter.
That second is all he needs.
Peter doesn’t hesitate. Doesn’t make a sound as he uses his newfound speed to
rip her throat wide open from behind. Blood sprays in a wide arch forward,
coating his arms, and pools under her when he lets her fall on his bed. From
her angle, she can probably see the open files and Peter is proven right when
her eyes widen before her gurgling slows. Peter leans in close, breath tickling
her ear “Such a disappointment.”
She may not have heard that, but it’s no matter.
She falls limp and Peter does a visual sweep of the room. He certainly can’t
stay here. Perhaps he could make it look like she was killed over him? No, that
wouldn’t work. They were both killed? No, not enough blood to pull that off.
And he can’t get more without being caught on camera. He’s interrupted by a
sharp gasp behind him. Peter stiffens and looks behind him to see a wide-eyed
boy staring at the mess, mouth gaping and mind racing. He looks stuck between
reactions, like there are too many that he doesn’t know where to start. He’s
obviously not a nurse, or a doctor, or even a janitor so Peter doesn’t really
know what he’s doing here but that matters little at the moment. Because this
boy didn’t just walk in on a murder. No, he had to walk in while Peter was
still shifted. Claws and fangs could quickly be talked around in such dim
lighting but glowing eyes are a little harder to bullshit. Still, such things
are his specialty and never let it be said he was afraid of a challenge.
So, he puts on his most charming smile- effective even covered in blood, he
knows- and is interrupted before he could even get a word in.
“Why?”
Does this idiot have no common sense? You’re supposed to run away from the
murder scene, not stand there asking questions. Still, Peter supposes there’s
no harm in having a little fun. He’s pretty enough to humor for the moment.
Maybe becoming alpha is affecting his judgment more than he thought.
Nevertheless, he walks over to the boy, grace and power resonate in every
footstep, and doesn’t resist the urge to scrape his claws down the boy’s cheek-
gently, of course- and keep his jaw still with the tips of his claws. Like
this, the boy cannot escape his gaze. Though he makes no sign that he wishes to
do so- aside from the initial cringe of blood drying on his cheek- and isn’t
that interesting? “Does there have to be a reason? You don’t know me. I could
be a monster.”
“There’s always a reason. Even if that reason is power.”
Peter is beginning to like this boy. The way he doesn’t just meet his gaze but
holds it. Like a statement, like a dare. Peter grins, and this one is honest
and pleased. “She wasn’t a good nurse.”
Most wouldn’t accept that answer. Would accuse him of insanity or psychopathy
or monstrosity. This boy though, this boy who- now that Peter really looks at
him- is rather charming in a certain light. There’s a mole right beneath his
left ear that Peter very much wants to be acquainted with. And he does fit
rather nicely in his hands.
“What are you?” the boy asks next. Peter doesn’t smell an ounce of fear on him
and this is getting more interesting by the second. He looks into the boy’s
eyes and sees nothing but honest curiosity.
They’ve wandered far enough into the room that Peter is able to nudge the boy
back against the door, kicked closed in the process. He settles in closer to
the boy, just barely touching chest to chest, with his right hand resting on
his hip, caging the boy in. Just because he doesn’t see ill intent doesn’t mean
it’s not there. Jennifer can be a testament to that and Peter isn’t one for
repeating mistakes.
The boy gasps but still no fear. No racing heart. No rapid breaths. Just calm
curiosity.
Peter can always kill him later. No harm in indulging him further.
“I’m the big bad wolf and I’ve been starved for far too long.” Peter lets his
voice dip to the deep tremor often reserved for his seductions. He adds in a
dash of the melody he used to use when telling bedtime stories and continues
“Do you think someone as delectable as you could satiate my hunger?”
The boy gulps at the implication but still no fear. Not that Peter would harm
him in such a way but he wouldn’t have any way of knowing that.
If he were invited however-
“That would depend entirely on what you were hungry for.”
Peter’s grin shows much sharper teeth this time. He drops his head so that he
can run his nose up the boy’s neck, breathing in loudly. The boy tenses for a
moment but Peter thinks it was from surprise more than anything else.
The boy has a wonderful scent. Once he manages to find it beneath the layers of
come, sweat, drugs, and general mess of other people. It’s sharp and present
but only once he was looking for it and isn’t that delightful. He finds himself
hovering over that damned mole under the boy’s ear and can’t help nipping at it
once before backing away. He lets the boy go and takes a few steps back.,
enjoying the sight of him pliant and dazed against the door like he is. Peter
answers “A little company would be nice. Wolves are social creatures after
all.”
“Huh- oh, right.” Stiles shakes his head and straightens up from where he’d
been leaning against the door.
“So, what’ll it be? My head can be a very dangerous place and I’d rather not
get stuck in it.”
The boy snorts. But then footsteps are coming down the hall and his eyes widen
in panic. Peter himself is internally cursing because he should have been long
gone by now. He’s in the middle of calculating the odds of taking the boy out
and getting away when the boy himself starts giving him some frantic set of
hand movements that seem to indicate he should go out the window. He’s whisper
shouting at him now. Telling him to “Go.” “Get out of here.”
Peter grins at the boy, halfway out the window, and asks “Care to give a
wayward murderer your name?”
“Ohmygod. It’s Stiles. Now go!” Stiles pushes him the rest of the way out and
starts screaming nonsense just in time for the door to be thrown open. Peter
grunts as he lands in some bushes, laying still as he can until the nurse
finishes his sweep of the tree line. He breaks into a sprint as soon as his boy
keeps their attention, fully shifting for the first time once the trees thicken
enough to hide him.
Stiles. The name is just as interesting as the bearer, just as captivating as
his scent and Peter can’t wait for them to meet again.
 
***
 
“You don’t waste any time, do you?”
“I could leave. Wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Stiles laughs in disbelief, like the idea that he wouldn’t want him to be
uncomfortable is surreal. “No, please. Make yourself comfortable.” Stiles plops
backwards onto his bed and drags a hand down his face. Groaning, he says “I
lied to my dad yesterday. Why did I lie to him?”
Peter’s fond smile goes unseen. “Beats me.” Peter answers the not-question from
where he’s lounging in the desk chair. “For all you know, I could be here to
tie up loose ends.”
“You’re not.”
“Oh?”
“If you were going to kill me, you would’ve done it by now.” Stiles supports
himself by the elbows and looks at Peter when he says “How do you know I
haven’t had a moment of clarity and the entire sheriff’s department is just
outside?”
“If you were going to turn me in, you would’ve done it already.” Peter parrots
with a grin on his face. “But why did you help me? I may not have hurt you, but
I’ve never given you any reason to trust me either.”
“I lose any and all sense of self-preservation when I get curious.”
Peter raises his eyebrow.
Stiles sits up, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and asks “Why
wasn’t she a good nurse? What exactly are you? Could a cell even hold you? And
why were you luring your niece here?”
Peter laughs “So you do know who I am. I assume you have those files as well?”
“Kind of hard not to, considering I was caught in your room the way I was. And
they’re over there.” Stiles points to the files that are in a stack of other
papers. Peter had overlooked it before, but he supposes that was the point.
Peter hums in appreciation. Such a clever boy. “Am I to expect more help in the
future?”
“You planning on killing more people?”
“Only those that deserve it. I assure you.”
“Is this the part where you actually answer my questions?”
“If you like.”
Stiles doesn’t say a word until Peter finishes.
Once he does, Stiles asks one question.
“Is this company your seeking sexual?”
Peter leers but answers “Only if you want it to be.”
 
***
 
Stiles grins when he sees his alpha enter the house soundlessly. Kate seems to
take it as proof she’s adopted a baby hunter, an in to the alpha.
Stiles finds it oddly poetic, that she would bleed out at the scene of her
crimes.
She doesn’t get the chance to spout more of her poison. Before Stiles can
blink, Peter is pulling her back against him, claws at her throat and her
stomach.
Stiles acts the fearful teenager because never let it be said he plays a part
halfway. He babbles apologies and desperate excuses as to why he would betray
him but he is paid no mind.
That’s okay. It’s only a precaution anyway.
The truth is he wants to laugh at how well their plan is playing out. At how
Kate remains stubborn even while utterly helpless.
Stiles drops the act when she falls, bleeding and lifeless. He feels a sense of
accomplishment. Sees it mirrored in Peter’s satisfied grin.
Stiles stares at Kate as Peter pulls him close, running his nose up his neck
like he so loves. He thinks back to Jennifer. How he never quite liked her and
finding out just why that was from her murderer. Of how both Kate and Jennifer
ruined lives because they thought themselves superior. Because they wanted to.
He thinks how it’s already been two months yet it’s only been two months.
Planning and killing and hiding a missing man in his room. He thinks of Scott
and what he would think if he were to see this. Thinks of how easy it was to
keep him out of this. How he barely had to lift a finger now that Scott has his
little Argent.
He thinks of the failed bite on his wrist. Of the magic thrumming through his
veins.
He thinks of Peter’s gentle hands and soothing voice. Of the fascination he
gets to see directed at him…and the manic glee after every kill. How he’s
managed to worm his way from a tentative friend to someone Stiles couldn’t
possibly live without. He thinks of the sleeping bag under his bed, untouched
for weeks now that Stiles knows Peter makes the perfect pillow.
Stiles tears his gaze away from the corpse and finds a sort of adoration in
Peter’s eyes that he could never have anticipated when they first met. When he
acted on impulse and covered for a man he didn’t know. Who wormed his way into
his good graces like nobody has managed so effortlessly before. It was his
magic calling out, he now knows. His spark recognizing what he could not see.
A potential mate.
Stiles smiles, turning in Peter’s arms and holding him just as reverently. He
doesn’t recognize scent like wolves do but that doesn’t stop him from burying
himself into Peter’s neck and inhaling. He doesn’t get much more than a mix of
his conditioner and the metallic scent of blood but Peter loves it so he keeps
it up for a few seconds. Peter runs his hand through his hair like he knows he
loves in return, getting blood matted into it but Stiles doesn’t mind.
Stiles pulls back enough to give Peter a few chaste kisses before stepping
away. He takes out the necklace he’d stolen from Allison the other day and
plants it like they planned. Peter is waiting for him by the door with an
outstretched hand when he’s done sprinkling some cocaine on the ground. Stiles
takes it once he’s close enough and laughs light and happy when Peter leads him
to the passenger’s seat of the plain car he’d stolen for tonight like the true
gentleman he is. He even opens and closes the door as if this were some normal
date and Stiles is hopelessly endeared despite the fact that it’s really not.
The hunters at the edge of the yard are proof enough of that. Laying dead on
the ground with pristine bullet holes through their skulls, a silenced gun
bought from the same guy they got the cocaine from thrown in the backseat.
He holds Peter’s hand over the console as he calls in an anonymous tip. They’re
long gone by the time the police arrive.
 
***
 
They had to wait for summer break before they could leave town. In that time,
Stiles convinced Scott to cover for him, and Peter and him collected as much
information as they could to track the rest of the Hales down. Stiles doesn’t
know how Peter managed, but he found a trail that lead from New York all the
way to Indiana before it went cold.
He’s definitely getting his hands on Peter’s contacts as soon as they have
Derek back where he belongs.
Stiles did not appreciate being targeted by a death-marked Nazi any more than
his alpha did. Considering the man’s reputation, Stiles thought his death was
rather anticlimactic. The most exciting part had to be Victoria’s arrival and
that’s not really saying much.
Stiles has been practicing his magic, to say the least.
Chris is okay, he supposes. He’s never lied, at least. And he seems to honestly
believe in helping people. Even if he doesn’t help innocent supernaturals so
much as not target them. Considering the rest of his family, Stiles is
impressed. They have a sort of understanding, as much as it’s never been
spoken. They don’t hide relevant information from each other but they don’t
involve each other more than necessary either.
They tolerate each other.
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have Scott keeping him updated on any new arrivals
during their absence. Not that Scott is aware that’s what he’s doing.
The drive to Indiana was long and uneventful. Though, they did take advantage
of the opportunity to fuck as loud and as often as they pleased. Since Stiles
started growing his hair out, he easily passes for eighteen and they never stay
in one motel long enough to rouse suspicion anyways. Peter figures they assume
Stiles is his hooker and Stiles doesn’t disagree. It doesn’t matter anyway.
They’ve just set up camp on the edge of Illinois when they both find two
separate leads that have equal chances of going somewhere useful. One can wait.
The other? Not so much.
One is from someone Peter knows has a grudge against magic users so Stiles
offers to follow the other lead. Peter can’t stand the idea of Stiles meeting
up with some witch alone so he makes Stiles swear to wait for him. Just a few
weeks, he swore. Just a few weeks of lazing around a motel room, watching TV
and studying the handful of books they brought with them.
Stiles thought he could do it. He swore he would even as Peter bit him and
claimed him as his forever.
He was wrong. Two days later he was pacing the room, restless. He broke and met
with the witch anyway.
And then his world was pain.
 
***
 
Peter remembers the days before everything fell apart. Back when life was
simple and threats were few and far in between. When they had a spare room for
recuperating omegas while they helped find them a new pack. When Derek was
small and precious and soft. Derek never looked down on him like the others
did. He didn’t know all the details of his job, but he understood all the
morally questionable things he did was for them. Was because he loved them and
wanted them safe. Talia was so focused on her successor, her perfect daughter,
that Derek was often under his care. He was the one to teach him how to hunt.
How to hide and how to fight. Some lessons sunk in better than others but that
was okay. He wasn’t built to fill the same role as him.
He was always such a sweet child. He always made Peter help him heal the
wounded animals he found in their woods. Peter was the one to teach him how to
take another’s pain into himself when they came across a buck who was beyond
help. That was also the day he taught him how to skin a deer with his claws and
which bits are best raw and which are better cooked.
It was a good day and one he holds close to his heart.
That was when his love was pure and innocent. He may have felt fonder for his
nephew but he gave the same amount of love and care to Cora and Laura too. It
wasn’t something odd and he never questioned it. That didn’t change even when
Derek started getting older and things like Paige and secret girlfriends
started cutting into their afternoons digitizing their library.
No, it wasn’t until he saw his nephew for the first time in six years that he
recognized lust accompanying the affection he had for him. It wasn’t a shock so
much as a new development. He doesn’t waste time with things like shame
anymore. Not that he did much of that before either.
He is mated to a seventeen-year-old after all.
But, while he’s never made it a habit to deny himself things that he wants, he
does have his own personal moral code and betraying his beautiful spark is
definitely at the top of the- rather short- list of things he could never do.
He doesn’t need to have Derek in more ways than he already does. He’s perfectly
content to lay here, fingers tangled with his mate’s and his pack safe and
warm.
But he sees the way Derek looks at Stiles. Smells the repressed envy fighting
to turn him bitter and Peter wonders if there isn’t a way that they could have
it all. It would be risky and outright idiotic to suggest while his only
permanent scar is still red and angry looking. But, if handled at the right
time, with the right delicacy, they could be bound so completely that nobody
would be thought wanting.
So, he smiles when Derek vows to heal. To overcome his own scars to the best of
his ability and decides to wait a few weeks, maybe a few months, for the bonds
to settle and everyone to grow confident in their place, in their worth before
giving hints towards something more. Re-establishing the ease in which they
spent curled up surrounded by books and making room for their new addition.
Maybe expand the pack while they’re at it. Nothing wrong in numbers.
Peter is thinking about places in the preserve they could build a new house and
possible monuments that could be arranged when he falls asleep.
 
***
 
The sheriff is none the wiser when Stiles returns home. He isn’t entirely sure
of the lie Scott’s managed to use to explain his absence, but his dad doesn’t
so much as ask before he’s leaving for work. Maybe that hurts a little, but it
works for him so he doesn’t do anything about it.
Peter left with Derek to arrange the move back to Beacon Hills so Stiles is
alone when he plops into bed, exhausted from the drive. He is so lucky the
Hales are actually loaded or else the gas money alone would screw him over for
a month or two.
Sighing, Stiles heaves himself back up to get to work. He’s got an idea on how
to reintroduce Peter to Beacon Hills but he can’t do it himself.
Danny is able to do what he needs, he finds an hour later. He can even swear
himself to secrecy, but not without sacrificing his snack money for two weeks.
He can always get Peter to buy him food after he’s back anyway.
With Danny’s help, he gets records in all the places that matter swearing up
and down that Derek had Peter transferred to a special hospital in New York and
that Peter has since been discharged for two weeks. Not only that, but Stiles
also gets Danny to add in experimental scar treatments as well. Stiles knows
keeping them from healing the way he has tires him out and that Peter hates
them. No matter how much he tries to show how much they don’t bother him.
He’s vain, but he’s his, Stiles thinks fondly.
He emails all the necessary paperwork to Derek and keeps printed copies in a
new safe under his bed.
The next day, Stiles is watching the news. Apparently, Derek Hale had no idea
his uncle had been considered missing because he’d been on an extended camping
trip. Imagine his surprise to find numerous missed calls and emails when he
finally returned.
He pulls off sheepish surprisingly well on camera. Damn, he’s so adorable
Stiles almost wants to believe him.
His dad walks in towards the end of Derek telling the world what Stiles told
him to and says “Can you believe it? Months cut off from the outside world.
Voluntarily, even.”
“Yeah.” Stiles turns around, leaning forward against the back of the couch
“Apparently Peter was the one to suggest it to him in the first place.
Something about Derek spending too much time in his hospital room and not
enough with himself.”
“Probably compensating for the lack of time spent here. But he does have really
bad timing.”
Stiles laughs because, yeah it would be pretty bad considering the amount of
work the department put into finding him. Only to find his transfer papers were
lost? It’s gotta suck, but better than the truth.
His dad just shakes his head and heads upstairs to sleep.
Stiles knows by now that he won’t be back down until the smell of dinner wakes
him up, so he decides to head to Scott’s for some overdue bro-time slash what
the fuck did you tell everyone I was doing while I was gone.
He said he went convention hopping over the summer. Which is cool and he so
wants to do that now, but not very practical given the fact that he’s broke as
fuck.
He’s so going to do that now, though. Peter’s rich; it’ll be great.
Does that make Peter his sugar daddy? Stiles doesn’t think he’ll mind if it
does.
He spends the next day looking up any conventions he would have gone to. Both
because he needs to plan next summer and for the more immediate- answering
inevitable questions.
There’s only a few weeks left of summer after that. They spent more time
looking for Derek than he thought. Peter calls him every night and Stiles knows
Derek is within hearing range but that doesn’t stop him from turning every
other call into a form of relief. He got way to used to regular sex this
summer.
As he also did to super-heated werewolves acting as personal space heaters at
night. He uses both his comforters to compensate.
Stiles finally gets to see his pack after the first day of senior year. He
doesn’t waste any time driving straight to Peter and Derek’s new apartment.
It’s alright. Just big enough to house them while Peter arranges more permanent
housing in the preserve, but Stiles doesn’t care about that so much as the fact
that he gets to hold his mate in his arms again.
It hasn’t actually been that long but it feels like it’s been forever and a
half. Peter doesn’t so much as budge when Stiles literally throws himself at
him. He just grins in turn while holding him up by the thighs. Derek is there
to close the door after Peter carries him deeper into the apartment. Stiles is
too busy sucking Peter’s tongue dry to do more than give a miniscule nod of
thanks.
Distantly, Stiles hears boxes being moved and opened and generally being
shuffled around, but that doesn’t stop him from spreading his legs as soon as
Peter has him laying on the couch.
Peter doesn’t seem to care either, if the way he’s kissing down his throat is
any indication. He’s sucking what will become a monster hickey when he gets
Stiles’ jeans undone and pushed down so he can’t spread his thighs. His boxers
are next and Stiles gasps at the dual sensation of teeth at his mate’s mark and
the cold air hitting his erection. Peter grins into his neck and starts
spreading what little precome he has down his shaft with feather light touches
that frustrate him more than anything.
He’s bucking up to the best of his ability- which is to say, not very well at
all- when Peter finally pities him enough to slide down until he’s mouthing at
his head and Stiles keens, arching up into it and attempting to fuck deeper
into his mate’s downright sinful mouth.
Of course that wouldn’t do at all.
Peter pins Stiles down, forcing him still as he takes him apart one goddamn bob
at a time. He doesn’t even use both hands, the lycanthropic bastard. Perfectly
capable of keeping him pinned with one hand while the other fucking massages
whatever part of him isn’t currently in his mouth. Stiles tugs at his hair and
tries to push him down instead but to no avail. He just smirks up at him and
swallows him down in one go.
Stiles shouts as Peter swallows around him because apparently he knows how to
deepthroat and is damn good at it. Not that Stiles has anyone to compare this
to but he’s fairly confident that the bastard’s been holding out on him.
Stiles can only be expected to last so long. He really can’t be blamed for
shooting down Peter’s throat as soon as he starts pushing the spot right behind
his balls, sending a jolt through him that he’s only managed to trigger a few
times of the few times he’s fingered himself.
Peter doesn’t miss a beat, like he expected that to be his reaction and Stiles
would like to resent that but facts are facts, and the fact is, he’s got little
endurance as it is. Besides, who is he to complain when he gets to see Peter
swallowing his come down like it’s his job?
Peter is smug as he rises up to his knees between Stiles’ legs and Stiles
doesn’t hesitate to use his newfound freedom to sit up and kiss him. He licks
up his chin where a stray bit of come escaped and into his mouth. This time, he
chases the bitter taste as far down as he can. Peter is rutting into the jut of
his hip like he can’t be bothered to remove his own jeans or do anything other
than pull Stiles as close as he can and memorize his taste.
Stiles keeps them from falling over when Peter comes, sticking them together
before the fall back to either side of the couch.
Stiles laughs because they must look ridiculous like this. Him, with his jeans
half down to his knees and Peter with his hair a wreck and pants soiled.
Derek proves him right when he snorts at them from across the room. Evidently,
unpacking a box of plastic cups and plates for the kitchen that doesn’t look
like it’ll be big enough for them all to be in at once.
“Dude, why did you even get this place? It’s crap.”
“It’s only temporary so why bother with more than the necessities? We’ve got
more important things to be picky about.”
“Still, this place is tiny.”
“Are you complaining?” Peter stalks over to him so he’s got both his arms
caging him in, a wicked gleam in his eye.
“No, definitely not.” Stiles says very very seriously because he’d never be a
sarcastic little shit to his alpha.
Never.
Stiles grins a wicked grin of his own when Peter growls and manhandles him over
his shoulder, bringing him deeper into the apartment. Stiles laughs, notices
how very gropable that ass is in this position, and gropes to his heart’s
content until he’s dropped onto a bathroom counter. Half his ass in the sink
and he laughs again because “Even your bathroom is tiny, my gods.”
He’s quickly drowned out by steaming water beating down and Peter stripping him
down. Stiles has enough time to adjust to the hot water before a very naked,
very wet Peter Hale is crowding him against the shower wall and yes, Stiles
likes this very much.
Seriously, he should just be naked all the time, Stiles has decided.
“You should be naked, like, all the time.” Stiles says in between biting kisses
that are more playful than rough.
Peter nips down his jawline and starts sucking a mark right behind his left
ear, and murmurs “Make it a bit difficult”- he bites at the lobe- “to take you
out.”
“Fuck going out.” Stiles gasps. “You can just stay here all day and I’ll come
by after school every day.”
“Hmmm, and what about Derek?”
“He won’t mind. I’ll bet he’d encourage it even.”
“I’m not sure I like what you’re suggesting about my relationship with Derek. I
could never cheat on you.”
Stiles gasps in mock outrage “I would never think such a thing. What do you
take me for? An insecure teenager dating a rich, hot as fuck, older man?” He
punctuates each adjective with a sharp thrust and Peter laughs breathlessly as
he grips his ass and thrusts “You forgot murderous beast. What if I just wanted
you to keep quiet?”
“Oh, you’re a beast alright. But not quite the kind you’re thinking, I’ll bet.”
Stiles flips them over so that he’s the one caging Peter in and runs his nose
up from his sternum to the back of his ear and inhales. “And if there is
anything I’ve learned during our little road trip; it’s that you hate it when
I’m quiet.”
Peter lets Stiles turn him so that he’s got both hands on the wall and Stiles
wraps himself around him. One hand is steadying them by Peter’s hip, while the
other is wrapped around his cock, creating a tunnel to fuck into while he fucks
in between Peter’s thighs.
They both come with a sigh this time. Lethargic and comedrunk, Stiles lazily
washes Peter down. He’s pliant and sated as he is washed in turn and Stiles
really has missed this.
Afterwards, they both settle down on either side of Derek on the couch. They’re
both in their boxers, only Stiles also has his undershirt on.
Derek presses play on Peter’s laptop because he’s set up Netflix and is
awesome. Stiles kisses his cheek in thanks and decides, no, this is what he
missed.
They sit there, snuggled up together, until Stiles has to go home and make
dinner.
 
***
 
Peter is already under the covers when Derek crawls in beside him. Peter opens
his arms so that he can curl into his chest and then rearranges the blankets to
his liking. Derek hasn’t been able to sleep alone since they got him back.
Peter’s just glad he can sleep without Stiles next to him. Though it definitely
helps that they both reek of him. It’s heaven after so long apart.
Derek wasn’t the only one anxious leaving Stiles alone in a town housing
Argents.
Peter always thought it was silly how humans consider bed-sharing between
adults an act reserved only for those fucking and/or married. Not that they
slept like this before, but he still can’t imagine not holding his sweet boy
like this when he’s so hurt. Can’t imagine not being right there to sooth the
nightmares or to not have Derek’s scent warding off his own.
If only Stiles were here, Peter thinks. They could surround him like they did
that first night and Derek could get some proper rest. He may look fine, but
his wolf blood can only keep the bags away for so long.
Peter wishes he could tell Derek that it’s okay to want them. That he knows
what he walked in on because Stiles told him the one night Derek wasn’t there
to listen in on their phone calls. That he doesn’t misunderstand his want for
Stiles, nor does he resent it. He wants to tell him that it’s okay to want him,
his uncle. Because he knows Derek’s tells like his own, even after so much
time, and he knows that Derek feels something towards him but refuses to
acknowledge it. Probably due to some useless human moral that he’ll have to
cleanse him of. He wishes he could tell him to stop repressing his feelings for
their sake but none of them are ready for it. If he fell prey to impatience
now, it could ruin everything.
And he refuses to destroy what he’s worked so hard to build.
End Notes
     THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A PREQUEL. THE INFODUMPING THAT WASN'T A
     TEXTBOOK.
     And then there was smut and feelings and progression of the story and
     now it's 6000 words long when it was supposed to stop at 3500. This
     is twice as long, okay. I was going to play sims this afternoon but
     new scenes kept getting written instead and then they were having sex
     and then Peter needed a scene with just Derek and ugh. I hope your
     all happy. (Like seriously, I hope your all happy with this. I really
     liked it.)
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