Title: Dying to Return
Author: Sibyl Moon
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Genre: Time Travel, Romance, AU
Relationship: Peter/Stiles, Others
Word Count: 22K+
Warnings/Rating: NC-17, Murder, MCD-Temporary, Discussion-Murder, Discussion-Torture, Canon-Typical-Violence, Explicit Sex,
Summary: When he thought everything was at the end, Stiles was given the chance to not just start again, but to change his world.
Author Note: This fic starts with an ‘Everyone Dies; scenario, so be warned. Most of it takes place off screen, but not all. It stays fairly non-graphic, but I can’t claim it as nonviolent.
Stiles heard Derek screaming in the other room, then there was the report of a gun, and silence echoed. Peter howled next to him, arching once before hanging helplessly from the electrified fence. “We aren’t getting out of this one, are we Peter?” Stiles licked his lips and tasted nothing but blood.
“I’d usually go with never say never,” Peter said with an awkward shrug from where he’d been strung up. “But unless you’re hiding a weapon somewhere very ingenious,” he gave a weak attempt at a leer, “I’d say this will be our last soiree together.”
“Soiree,” Stiles scoffed, “Who the fuck says stuff like that, I’ve known you for ten years, and you still talk like we’re in some regency romance half the time; it’s weird, stop it.” He shivered. They’d left him in damp jeans, and there was nothing else as a barrier between him and the hard cement of the floor. “I don’t have anything, not a weapon and or a plan. My spark is just about burnt down to cinders and these cuffs are almost impossible to work through. They knew about us, Peter, someone told them where we were and how to get to us or they did a hell of a lot of research before hunting us down.”
“I agree sweetheart, I think we both know who their source was.” The chains rattled as Peter shifted against the fencing.
“Yeah,” Stiles felt his stomach twist and fought the urge to get sick. “Yeah we do.” He didn’t want to even think of who had to have sold them out. “That was Derek wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Peter didn’t say anymore, but his eyes flashed red briefly before they faded away.
“I’m sorry Peter.”
“They’re coming,” Peter replied, not acknowledging Stiles’ words. “It’ll be over soon enough, I imagine.”
“Do they even want anything other than pain and death?” Stiles muttered.
“What else do hunters ever want darling?” Peter managed a smile as the door opened and their captors entered. “It’s all death and destruction for them.”
“Peter Hale,” The man sneered, his whole face twisted with disgust as he spat the name. “Last of the great Hale Pack.”
“We know who we are,” Stiles said. “Be nice to know who you are.”
“What does that matter, boy,” Another man, bald and lean, said, coming in behind the rest, “You’ll be dead before the hour is out.”
“Always good to know the name of one’s executioner,” Peter said, “My lips to God’s ear and all that.”
“You think you’re getting anywhere near heaven?” Baldy spat to the side, “Hell is where your kind goes and you know it.”
“I don’t know why you bother talking to these animals Steven,” The first man said to Baldy, “Let’s just get this finished.”
Stiles flexed his hands from where they were tied behind his back, these hunters might be assholes, but they knew what they were doing. Stiles had been trying to work his way free since he’d been tossed in the room with Peter. He’d had no luck.
They started on Peter, and Stiles refused to look away when they finally gave up on the torture and put a bullet in him. Peter met Stiles’ eyes, and he winked just before the gun went off.
“You’re all going to regret this,” Stiles said as a cold kind of calm washed over him; his spark began to wake up, fighting whatever they had given him to suppress it. “I will make sure you do.”
“Ha, you’re about to join your beasts in hell,” Steven spat at him, giving Stiles a blow that made him see stars. “The Warrington family should have been here to do away with you lot years ago.”
“I’ll remember you,” Stiles said, looking up at the two men before him. “I’ll remember everything and when I come for you, you won’t know why. You won’t have yet committed the crimes I’ll kill you for, and I’ll kill you anyway.”
“Fuck, Mike,” Steven said, his voice sounding a little panicked, “I thought this one was human, what’s the matter with his eyes?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Mike came forward, raising the gun in his hand, “A bullet will kill him just like it did the others.”
Stiles felt the smile that split his face, it had been years since he’d felt the shadow of the Nogitsune, but he knew it was shining behind his eyes at that moment.
Mike placed the barrel next to his head and pulled the trigger.
All was black.
He awoke sitting on the Nemeton; the white room seemed to glow around him. Stiles looked around. His blood ran cold when he saw the dark shadow of a fox crossing the distance towards him.
“Hello Mieczysław,” the fox’s mouth split into a wide grin as he came to sit beside him on the stump.
“You can’t be here,” Stiles said through a suddenly dry mouth. “We got rid of you.”
“Oh did you?” He tilted his head back and forth, “Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. Maybe you just changed me.”
“You can’t be a fox and a wolf,” Stiles said, swallowing.
“No I can’t, but I’m not a wolf and I’m not just a fox,” He gave a barking laugh that didn’t belong in an animal’s throat.
“No, but you’ve been gone for a decade out there,” Stiles waved his hands to indicate the waking world. “So why are we here?”
“What do you remember?” The black fox moved closer, his eyes caught hold of Stiles’ and he couldn’t look away from the fox as the memories flooded back.
“Oh,” Stiles said. “I’m dead then?”
“Yes and no, little spark,” again with that creepy grin, “You are in the Nemeton, neither alive or dead while here.”
“You want something.” Stiles said, narrowing his eyes at the being.
“Maybe I do.” He gave the equivalent of a shrug in his fox form. “What I can give you might be worth it though.”
“What do you want?” Stiles shifted, glaring down at the deceptively cute form of the Nogitsune.
“Freedom,” He said, “What else have I ever wanted.”
“Bullshit,” Stiles scoffed, “You wanted revenge and chaos, there was no freedom in your rampage when you were walking around in my body.”
“Maybe so,” He agreed. “Chaos is my nature, and I was owed revenge.”
“So what do you really want?” Stiles asked again.
“I want my freedom,” The Nogitsune sat up as straight as a fox could. “I want to go home. If you free me I will swear on my tails that I will leave your home and touch none that claim as yours. Now or in the future.”
“That isn’t good enough,” Stiles shook his head. Why was he arguing with this thing, “It doesn’t matter anyway, I’m dead and I’m not giving you my body to parade around in again.”
“The power of your spark, the nemeton and my own chaos would be enough to send you back.” He gave that choking laugh that foxes are known for.
“Everyone is dead,” Stiles said, “What good does it do to return to nothing. I mean I can get revenge, but afterwards I would be right back here.”
“Perhaps,” He nodded, “Perhaps when I say back, I mean further than your last death.”
“How far?” Stiles asked, calculations skimming across his mind. “How far back could I go?”
“As far as you wish, but it would be wise to choose your time carefully.” Nogitsune said. “I would want my freedom as payment for letting you have access to my chaos and no doubt she’ll want something.” He sneered down at the stump.
“The Nemeton wants payment?” Stiles asked with a frown, “What could she want?”
“I wouldn’t care to wonder,” Nogitsune said airily. “She and I were never friendly.”
“I don’t wonder why.” Stiles muttered.
“She was my prison,” It was the first crack in his facade since he’d shown up.
“She never asked to be,” Stiles said, feeling a flare in his chest as his spark began to warm.
“No, she didn’t,” Nogitsune agreed, settling back down. “It doesn’t change what she was.”
“How am I supposed to agree to something when I don’t know what she wants.” Stiles ran both hands through his hair.
“Ask her,” Nogitsune said, grinning at him.
Stiles stared at the fox, refusing to ask him how to talk to a tree. Then he felt it, where his hands had come to rest on the stump, warmth began to climb up his arms. His eyes fluttered shut as an immense presence entered his thoughts.
‘Child, Chaos has asked for what he will,’ The voice was soft, wrapping around Stiles just like a mother’s hug. ‘You wish to go back and change what has gone wrong. I wish to be whole once again.’
‘I don’t know how to make you whole,’ Stiles thought at her, ‘I never learned, no matter where I looked. Information on you and others like you is very scarce.’
‘If you take up this task, I will teach you before you go.’ There was a pause, almost as if the Nemeton needed a moment to think about her phrasing. ‘Depending on when you return you shouldn’t have any trouble.’
‘What does freedom entail for him?’ Stiles asked her before he decided.
‘He told no lies when he said he wanted to go home. He will very likely attempt some revenge on the Celestial Kitsune, but this return with demand that it remains on the scales of balance.’
‘What do you mean?’ Stiles asked, confusion roiling through him.
‘He is Chaos, I am my own form of chaos, as nature always is and you Mieczysław, you have your own chaos.’
“Fuck me,” Stiles whispered out loud; he felt the Nemeton retreat from his immediate thoughts.
“If you want to have some fun before you head back,” Nogitsune leered at him from his fox form.
“No!” Stiles shifted back some, “A whole world of no, you are a fucking fox right now for one and for another I try to keep evil out of my bed.”
“Shame,” He gave the appearance of a shrug, “It would have been fun.”
“Yeah, let’s not discuss that ever again.” Stiles shuddered before getting back on task. “So we’re all different faces of chaos, that’s how you’re going to send me back?”
“Yes,” Nogitsune grinned, “It’ll be the best kind of chaos magic.”
“You only want your freedom, you won’t come after me or mine?” Stiles asked
“My word, on my tails.” Nogitsune said, for once solemn.
“If you do, or if I think you’ve taken your chaos too far,” Stiles took a breath and met his nightmare eye to eye. “I will find you and I will put you somewhere that you can never deal in chaos again.”
“You know what,” The fox tilted its head, “I believe you would. You have my agreement, little spark.”
“So how do we do this then?”
“Do you know when you want to return to?” Nogitsune’s nose twitched as he questioned Stiles. “The best points are pivots in the timeline.”
“Pivots?” Stiles thought he knew what the fox meant, but it felt like too much was riding on getting this right for him to let that remark pass.
“Points in history where it would only take a slight nudge to redirect the path of the timeline.”
“Like if I chose when Scott was bit, but instead of taking him into the preserve I left him at home?”
“That would be one point in your current life, yes.” Nogitsune kept grinning like he was waiting for Stiles to figure something out.
“I don’t have to return to my own timeline do I?” Stiles’ mind spun with possibilities, even as it rebelled at the thought. “I can go somewhere out of my direct timeline. How is that possible?”
‘You won’t be you, no matter how you choose.’ The warm voice of the Nemeton said in his mind.
“What do you mean I won’t be me?” Stiles felt a tiny tendril of panic crawl up his throat.
“Do you really want to have the you from now thrust into the body of your younger self and then wipe them from existence?” Nogitsune asked with his head tilted.
Stiles sat back in shock; he hadn’t even considered it. Going back could fix so many things, but if he was not himself, things would be both easier and harder to fix. He wouldn’t be limited by his younger body, but he wouldn’t be connected to people in the same way he was now.
It was freeing in a way and made his decision of what time to go to much easier. He looked at the Nogitsune and reached out mentally for the Nemeton.
“I’m ready,” Stiles said. “I’m going to assume I’ll end up in the past with no identification or money.”
“Oh, but you’re a clever spark,” Nogitsune cackled again, “You’ll find a way.”
“I’ll have to won’t I?” Stiles snarked back at the fox.
“Just don’t forget our bargain little spark,” Nogitsune showed all his teeth as he smiled this time.
‘Come to me as soon as you’re able,’ The Nemeton said. ‘I will give you the knowledge to heal me, but I can’t help you on your journey unless you come to me and fulfill our bargain.’
“I will,” Stiles agreed.
The world exploded in light before it was smothered in darkness once again.
Stiles came to this time on a bench in a park he vaguely recognized. He sat up slowly and realized he was still wearing the clothes he’d been killed in, a pair of jeans that were damp and chilled with it. He shivered and stood, ignoring the feel of tender feet bare against the rough ground.
Glancing at the still visible moon in the brightening sky, Stiles figured that it was probably very early in the morning. He would need to move out of sight before sunrise and find something to wear that wouldn’t scare the good citizens of Beacon Hills.
As he moved towards the preserve, he reached for his spark, relieved to find it warm and ready in his blood. He passed by a house that caught his eye, he wasn’t sure who lived there right now, but they’d left laundry on the line. He grabbed a t-shirt and some socks; he’d worry about shoes once he finished with the Nemeton. Dusting off his feet, he tugged on the socks, they wouldn’t do much, but it would give him a small layer of protection against the elements.
“Ugh,” He grimaced as the clothes were all a bit damp against his skin. They’d obviously been forgotten on the line overnight, and if they had been dry beforehand, the shirt and the socks had a fine layer of dew on them now. “It’ll have to do.” He shrugged into the shirt and tried to ignore the way it clung.
Stiles made his way quickly and quietly through the preserve until he reached the Nemeton. Kneeling, he set his hands to the trunk; he opened his mind while feeding his spark into roots. Using the instructions that the Nemeton had given him, he carefully lifted the jar with Nogitsune in it.
“I remembered my part of the bargain fox,” Stiles said. “Don’t forget yours.” He opened the jar and let the fly out.
That taken care of, he turned back to the Nemeton with his mind still open and began feeding magic straight from his spark into her. He felt the dark poison in her roots, only part of it was from imprisoning the Nogitsune for so many years. Someone had been deliberately harming the Nemeton, even after she’d been cut down.
“Poor lady,” Stiles murmured as he did as he’d been instructed and cleansed the roots, then the land around them. Reaching deep to find the underground water sources, ensuring every part that nurtured the Nemeton was purified. He then brought both hands up, cupping them in front of his mouth; he gathered his spark and blew.
After a moment, Stiles pulled his hands away and took the glowing seed that had been left behind. He placed it within the crack on the stump of the Nemeton. Feeding it still more magic, this time channeling it from the purified land around him instead of directly from his own spark.
He didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually, he saw the green growth in the center of the Nemeton. “Aren’t you lovely?” He brushed a finger down the new growth.
Standing and moving back from the stump, he cast out using both his spark and the natural magic of the place to veil the Nemeton while she healed. After he was done, he leaned against one of the trees at the edge of the clearing catching his breath.
Using that much of his spark had exhausted him almost completely. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the trunk of the tree, trying to take in what ambient magic he could to replenish his stores enough to get on his way and set himself up.
“I should have known you were responsible for this,” the voice was the only indication Stiles had that he wasn’t alone.
Stiles lowered his head, opening his eyes slowly, “Peter?”
“The one and only,” Peter came stalking into the clearing, a clearing that was supposed to be veiled from everyone. “How did you manage to send me hurling back through time after I was shot Stiles?”
“I didn’t,” Stiles shook his head, taking in the much younger form of Peter Hale in the early morning light. “She did and the nogitsune helped some I think, the how is kind of fuzzy.”
“Did you bring anyone else back?” Peter asked.
Stiles laughed harshly, “I didn’t even know that you were brought back Peter and I’m not exactly me, am I?”
Peter squinted at him, “I suppose you would be around what five or six now?”
“Something like that, yes.” Stiles said with a shrug, “Not very helpful right now, even if they had my memories.”
“No, I imagine not,” Peter seemed to understand faster than Stiles had. “So you can’t be Stiles Stilinski anymore then.”
“Doesn’t seem that way,” Stiles shrugged, exhaustion swamping him again and making him stumble. Peter was there to catch him before he hit the ground. “I wonder why you’re here and in your own body?”
“Are you done here for now?” Peter asked, looping an arm around Stiles’ waist.
“Yeah, I think so. She’ll let me know if I need to do anything else for her,” Stiles said with a tired smile.
“Alright, you can tell me all about this traveling in time business while I take you home then,” Peter said and started to walk Stiles out of the clearing.
“I don’t have a home Peter,” Stiles said, “I don’t even remember if my apartment complex has been built yet.”
“You’ll come to my place sweetheart,” Peter replied, sounding completely unruffled.
“I don’t think hanging out with the whole Hale family is going to go over well either.” But Stiles let Peter lead him down the path.
“I’m taking you to my apartment in town,” Peter said, “Now tell me about this great return that I am an unexpected party to.”
“Well after they shot you, I told them what I thought about them and made a few threats–As you do, ” Stiles ignored the look he felt burning into the side of his head.
“Yes, as you do.” Stiles was impressed by how much emphasis Peter could put into one phrase.
“Well then they shot me,” Stiles glanced at Peter when he growled. “What did you think happened Peter, they weren’t really into catch and release.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like hearing about it,” Peter took a breath and visibly pulled himself back together. “Go on, I want to hear what happened next.”
“Well then I woke up in that white room,” He gestured with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Peter to hold himself upright. “You know the one we were in after the pseudo sacrifice. Anyway, I was sitting on the Nemeton and the Nogitsune showed up in all his shadow fox glory.”
Peter growled again, “I don’t like that thing.”
“I can’t say that any of us are exactly fond of the guy,” Stiles agreed. “So he shows up and I’m understandably freaked, because he’s supposed to be gone, right? And I’m hoping I didn’t end up in some weird version of Hell that I had to share with him.”
“So not a weird version of Hell then?”
“Nope, some sort of limbo place with just a tree, a spirit and me,” Stiles let out a snorting laugh. “Nogitsune talked in circles for a little bit, but wasn’t at his normal level of annoying, though he got some creepy points.”
“Creepy points?” Peter asked as they came to the edge of the preserve, where Peter had a car waiting. Of course, Peter had a car waiting.
“Yep,” Stiles popped the word as he leaned against the car, letting Peter unlock it before he got in. “I’m pretty sure he was hitting on me at some point.”
“Lovely,” Peter said dryly.
“Not really, he was in his fox form, and he took over my body. Beastiality and lack of consent are a hard no for me.” Stiles said, leaning his head back; it was beginning to ache. He’d definitely overextended himself this morning, between coming back in time, healing the Nematon, and letting Nogitsune go.
“Good to know,” Peter replied, driving through a town just waking up, “So you ended up back here then?”
“No, not so simply,” Stiles figured this was the part that Peter might get a little testy about. “I made a bargain with the Nemeton and Nogitsune.”
“You made a bargain with a chaos demon.”
The lack of question marks was undeniably a Hale trait, Stiles thought. “Yes, he bargained for his freedom. The Nemeton and I added some restrictions to that, but mostly I think he just wanted to go home. I didn’t really care as long as he left me and those I care about alone.”
“I don’t think others will take that very well,” Peter replied, turning into a small house on the opposite edge of the preserve from the Hale house. “Here, we’re home.”
“Nice place,” Stiles said, getting out of the car and looking at the well-built craftsman-style house. “I have trouble picturing you in a place like this, though. Probably because you had that penthouse apartment in town forever.”
“Not forever, obviously,” Peter snarked. “They sold this place after the fire to help pay for my care, I was never able to get it back.”
“So you went for the exact opposite when you could get your own place.” Stiles nodded; yeah, that sounded like the Peter he knew.
Flipping on some lights, Peter directed Stiles to a couch and went to what Stiles assumed was the kitchen.
“I don’t have much,” Peter said. “I’ve been down in San Francisco for the last few months. Once I ended up in this body, I put what I was doing on hold and came down to the Nemeton as soon as possible to figure out what was going on.”
He had a tray with glasses of what looked to be soda, some crackers, and cheese, and he’d even sliced some apples.
“This will be fine Peter,” Stiles smiled at him, “Thanks.”
“So,” Peter said once he was sitting down. “The Nogitsune wanted freedom. You said the Nemeton wanted something as well, I take it, that was what you were doing out there this morning?”
“Yes, she wanted to be whole again,” Stiles scrunched his face as he thought about the poison that had leached into her roots and the soil around the clearing. “I told her I didn’t know how, but she showed me. I agreed obviously, I just had to choose the time to return to and here I am. It was a chaos ritual of some sort.”
“What do you mean ‘a chaos ritual’?” Peter’s voice took on an edge of worry.
“The Nemeton told me that in the moment that we were all in that limbo place, we were all forms of chaos. She was chaotic neutral, because she was based in nature and couldn’t be anything else. The Nogitsune was considered chaotic bad, but not evil. She was very clear on that point and I was…”
“Chaotic good?” Peter finished, then he started to laugh until he ran out of breath.
“Hey I’m good. Well, I’m not evil and I can’t claim to be neutral so I guess I got slotted in as good,” Stiles shrugged with a chuckle of his own.
“I think I might know how I ended up here,” Peter said after he calmed down and had a drink. “I was with you when I died; you died shortly after and then ended up doing a chaos ritual of a sort to come back in time. My being here is probably a combination of chaos energies and my being so close to you at our deaths.”
Stiles shrugged, eating an apple slice, “It’s as good a reason as any.” He looked over at Peter; he didn’t think he’d get used to young Peter anytime soon. “I will admit to being glad I’m not alone here. How old are you right now anyway?”
“Now? Twenty seven or eight I believe.” Peter said, giving it a bit of thought.
“So we’re about the same age, at least physically, right now.” Stiles laughed, it didn’t take long for his laughter to take on a hysterical edge as everything that had happened and the choices he’d made came crashing down on him. “Fuck Peter, I can’t be me. Who the fuck am I going to be if I’m not Stiles Stilinkski.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Peter was next to him in a moment, pulling Stiles in for an embrace he hadn’t known he needed. “I don’t know what to tell you, but I will help you as much as you let me.”
“Thanks, Peter,” Stiles shifted back and looked up at the man. They were so close that Stiles could feel Peter’s breath on his cheek. “Peter?” Stiles’ voice was soft, and he licked his lips, watching Peter’s eyes focus on them.
“Tell me to stop, and I will,” Peter said; when Stiles didn’t say anything, he lowered his mouth to his.
Stiles felt his world tilt and realized that Peter had his hand at the back of his head, better positioning him to deepen the kiss. Stiles’ brain went hazy, the heat of Peter’s lips moved through him like warmed honey, pooling at the base of his spine. He’d never been so affected by a simple kiss.
“Fuck,” Peter pulled back, breathing harshly before diving back in.
Stiles just opened to Peter’s assault on his mouth, his hands coming up to grasp Peter’s shoulders before moving to his hair. Pulling back, Stiles looked at Peter’s face, feeling breathless, his heart hammering in his chest.
Then Peter opened his eyes. His glowing red eyes.
Stiles froze, staring. “Peter?”
Peter blinked, the red fading, “Hmm?”
“Your eyes,” Stiles lifted a hand, fingers tracing the edges of those eyes. “Your eyes are red.”
Peter blinked again, staring down at Stiles with something like bewilderment on his face. “What?”
“You’re an Alpha.” Stiles said, sure his eyes were wide as his mind thought through possibilities at light speed. “Derek died before you, you got the spark.”
“It came back with me,” Peter huffed a laugh rubbing a hand down his face. “This will make things interesting.”
“Uh yeah,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes, “Are you going to need your own pack?”
“Maybe, we’ll see how it settles I guess,” Peter reached out and took Stiles’ hand. “I’m more interested in how Talia and the rest of them are going to react to this.”
“They’ll think you killed someone won’t they?” Stiles curled his fingers around Peter’s, his need to protect beginning to well up inside him.
“Maybe,” Peter tilted his head back and forth once with his brows furrowed. “I was on pack business in San Francisco, so they know I was a beta as of last night.” He dug into his pocket and pulled his phone out.
“What is it?” Stiles asked, leaning over to get a view of the screen.
“A bunch of missed calls and texts.” Peter said, hitting what looked like the redial button for one of them. “Paul.”
Stiles couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation clearly, but he could tell that whoever this Paul was, he was practically screaming in Peter’s ear.
“I can’t say anything with you yelling in my ear Paul,” Peter finally snapped. “I’m sorry I ran out on everyone so early this morning.” He paused and nodded, “Of course, I had to check. They’re all fine from what I could tell when I got here.” Another pause and nod. “No I didn’t go in once I’d verified they were okay, I came home to try and figure out what the hell happened.” Peter sighed as the yelling on the other end got loud again, “Paul, Paul. Listen, I’ll keep you updated, when I know something I’ll let you and the others know.”
Stiles just looked at him in confusion, he parsed out some of the meaning, but he’d have to wait for Peter to get off the phone and explain it to him.
“Yes, let me know if you find anything out. Keep in touch, Paul,” Peter ended the call and leaned forward, placing his head on Stiles’ shoulder.
“So,” Stiles asked after a moment, his hand finding its way into Peter’s hair almost of its own accord. “Are you going to share with the class Peter?”
Peter grumbled into his shoulder, and Stiles let himself enjoy how easy falling into this with him felt. With everything else going on right now, being with Peter like this seemed like a natural evolution of the relationship they’d been developing since Stiles had come home from college.
“Apparently, I was in the middle of a late-night meeting with the pack down there,” Peter said, sitting back just enough to look at Stiles. “Just a general type of thing to make sure that I didn’t ruffle any feathers as I moved through the area.”
“I thought you’d been there for the last couple of months?” Stiles asked, confused.
Peter shrugged, “Well I’ve been cooling my heels for that long, trying to get this meeting so I could move freely.”
“I’m sure you were your usual pleasant self about it too.” Stiles laughed.
“Probably,” Peter said dismissively, “I was in this meeting when my eyes burned red and I ran out of there, heading this direction.”
“That must have been when you popped into your younger body,” Stiles nodded, ignoring Peter’s eye roll when he stated the obvious. “Who were you checking on then?”
“Talia and the family,” Peter said, “If my eyes were suddenly glowing alpha red, then it would stand to reason that Talia was dead and possibly Laura.”
“But they’re fine, right,” Stiles asked, his heart starting to pound. He hadn’t come all the way back here to not be able to set things right.
“As far as I can tell,” Peter said with another shrug, “I can feel my bonds to the pack, but they’re very muted. Whether that’s because of the time travel or because of this alpha power I don’t know. I didn’t notice it until now, since I’ve been so used to living without them.”
“With all those texts and calls, I imagine your sister is one of them.” Stiles said, feeling the nap he wanted disappearing into the ether. “We should go to see her, before she comes looking for us.”
“No,” Peter’s tone was firm. “I can get away with going into the preserve around the house here and into town right now, but as an alpha in her territory it could end badly if I went to the pack house.”
“Even if she’s your sister?” Stiles asked, concerned about the ramifications of this.
“We don’t exactly have a copacetic relationship, Stiles,” Peter said dryly. “It’s always been rather contentious, whether that is down to the age difference or just our personalities knocking against each other. I couldn’t say, but as long as I can remember she’s been wary of me for some reason.”
“Even as a kid?” Stiles was incredulous. He saw the hurt in Peter’s eyes, though, and reached up to cup his face, “Well we’ll see how this plays out. I might have to adjust plans, but the basics will probably remain the same.”
“Basics?” Peter said, turning his face to kiss his palm, “Of course you have plans. You always have plans for everything.” He huffed a laugh.
“Well, I didn’t have one for this,” Stiles replied, gesturing between the two of them, “Fantasies, definitely, but no plans.”
“Oh sweetheart, I have plenty of plans for you,” Peter smirked at him, reaching out to cup the back of his neck and pulling him in for a short, almost chaste kiss that left Stiles hot and hungry for more.
“Anyway,” Stiles said, refusing to let the man fluster him. He was twenty-six, for fucks sake, and Peter would not be his first or even his fifth lover. “Yes, plans. Kate and Gerard have to die; I’m on the fence about Victoria. Steven and Roger Warrington need to go. Derek needs to be wrapped in blankets and fed cookies. Not sure what you want to do with the rest of them.”
“What about Scott? Or any of the pack?”
Stiles knew he was referring to the pack that Scott had acquired, and Derek had won during a challenge after Scott fucked up one time too many. “Scott is a kid right now and has no idea about this stuff. I plan to ignore his ass. Maybe try to subtly lead kid Stiles away from him, but that is not an immediate worry.”
“Then I say your plans sound just fine,” Peter said, “Although I do wonder at your need to take care of Derek. Should I be jealous, sweetheart?” His hand had moved down and rested on Stiles’ thigh.
Stiles looked at Peter to see if he was serious, then he started to laugh, “No. For one, Derek was too damaged when we were in the future. Two, I’m still twenty six here. How old is Derek, because that is just all sorts of wrong for me to even think about him as anything more than a little bunny wolf who should be protected from the bullshit that happened to him.”
“So you want to mother him then,” Peter said with some amusement. Stiles could see him thinking, though. “What about the rest of the family.”
“Well, they haven’t done anything to make me want to kill them,” Stiles shrugged. “I want them to live, because this area began to seriously destabilize after the Nemeton was cut down and then with the fire, the last of the protections around here just disappeared.”
“So we avoid that then,” Peter agreed. “I can’t say what the relationship between the official Hale pack and myself will be, but this is my home territory as much as it is Talia’s.”
“Again, I’m going to ask if you’re going to have a pack,” Stiles was quiet for a moment, “and where I’m going to fit in here.”
“Don’t you know Stiles?” Peter slid his hand up Stiles’ thigh a little, causing his brain to start to short out. “I want you in my bed, in my pack and at my side.”
“Okay, you’re going to have to explain this to me in more detail Peter,” Stiles said, setting his own hand on top of Peter’s to stop his movements. “Are you looking for a casual fuck buddy hook up, some way for me to have status in the pack, what? Or is there something more going on here that I need to know?”
“With your spark, you can be the emissary for my pack if you want to, even without being in my bed,” Peter said, humor in his eyes. “I want you in my bed and at my side as alpha’s mate as well. I thought to ease you into it, but I can see you’re going to be difficult about it.”
Stiles laughed, “I don’t mind if that’s where we are headed. I’m not quite ready for the full on commitment right at this second though. I can do emissary and potential alpha’s mate for now.”
“For now,” Peter agreed. Leaning back over, he slid his hand all the way up the inside of Stiles’ thigh and caught Stiles’ gasp of breath in his mouth with a scorching kiss. Pulling back, he took in Stiles’ dazed look and swollen lips. “I still want you in my bed as soon as possible.”
“That,” Stiles took a breath, “That’s fine with me.”
“Good,” Peter went to lean in again when his phone went off. “Fuck.”
“Apparently not now,” Stiles laughed and handed Peter his phone from where it had fallen on the couch.
“It’s Talia,” Peter grimaced but took the call, putting it on speaker this time. “Hello, sister dear.”
“Peter,” The growl in Talia’s voice came through very clearly over the phone’s speakers. “What the hell happened?”
“We’re not sure, I thought something had happened to you.” Peter said, his voice sharp and defensive in a way that Stiles had never heard before. “When I got near the house though, everyone was there and fine. I headed home and realized that I was an alpha about five minutes ago.”
“Who else is there Peter?” Talia demanded, ignoring Peter’s summary of events.
Eyes on Peter, Stiles waited for his nod before he replied dryly, “Mieczysław Black, nice to meet you.”
“Who is that?” Talia practically barked into the phone before she continued with marked exasperation in her voice. “Please tell me that you aren’t idiotic enough to be telling your latest fling our family stories Peter. Tell me you aren’t taking your ridiculous and petty rebellions that far.”
“Perhaps you would kindly stop insulting my alpha, thank you,” Stiles’ voice was cold enough to cause even Peter to pause and look at him.
“Who do you think you are?” Talia’s voice went quiet with anger.
“I’m Peter’s soon to be emissary,” Stiles started to say before Peter jumped into the conversation.
“He’s going to be my mate Talia, I would have brought him to meet you after my trip, but unforeseen circumstances and all that.” Peter replied, not sounding sorry about any of it at all.
“Your mate?” The line went disturbingly quiet for a minute before Talia spoke again. “You know you can’t stay here as an alpha Peter. I can get in contact with Deaton and you can cede your Alpha spark to me, then we can discuss your mating later.”
“I’m afraid not sister,” Peter said, his eyes glowing a bright red, but none of his anger showed in his voice. “I’m a Hale alpha and this is Hale territory. I am of the direct line and you have no right to push me out of my share of the territory or steal my spark.”
“You can’t be serious Peter,” Talia scoffed, “Who did you kill to get that spark, you know that it won’t let you stay on Hale territory if another with the Hale spark has already laid claim.”
“I didn’t kill anyone Talia,” Peter said coolly, “It came to me in the middle of a meeting, with witnesses. Interestingly enough, I can already feel my territory boundaries taking form. Do you really want to give me cause to bring the council down here for judgement sister?”
“Don’t be an ass Peter, we need to do what’s best for the pack as a whole,” Talia seemed to have calmed herself down. “Just because you’re power hungry, doesn’t give you the right to break up our pack, our family.”
“Cut the bullshit Tally,” Peter used his sister’s hated nickname with some derision. “This will in no way break up the family or even the pack unless you fight me on this.”
“We’ll discuss this later Peter,” Talia hissed at him, ending the call.
Peter set the phone down on the table before putting his head in his hands and huffing a laugh.
“What was she talking about?” Stiles asked as he ran a hand down Peter’s back to soothe him.
“Sometimes, things happen in a pack and nature gives them another alpha to split the pack up. Usually this happens when a pack gets too large for one alpha to be able to run effectively.”
“Not in this case, though,” Stiles said; when Peter looked at him, Stiles shrugged. “I mean, we can play that card for sure, but we both know you have the Hale spark as it came from a True Alpha to a Hale and now to you. All this done on Hale territory, making it a strong Hale spark.”
“True,” Peter kept his head in his hand as he turned his face to Stiles. “It will definitely pull some of the members under Talia to come to my pack. It’ll be interesting to see how it falls out.”
“You think some of them will be drawn to you?” Stiles asked him, “How will that affect our plans?”
“Depends on who it is,” Peter sat up finally, drawing Stiles closer until he was practically in Peter’s lap. “You have to understand though, I’m the alpha. You’ll be my emissary, so whatever plans we make don’t need to be divulged to the pack as a whole.”
“I’m not going to be a perfect emissary,” Stiles said, his hands on Peter’s shoulders. It was kind of nice to be settled on his lap like he was. They were the same height, and their builds weren’t too different, but being a werewolf gave Peter a level of physical strength that Stiles didn’t have.
“What do you mean, sweetheart?” Peter leaned forward, pressed a kiss to Stiles’ shoulder, and then moved up the side of his neck. Stiles tilted his head back, enjoying Peter’s lips and teeth as they left a trail over his neck, his hands gripping Peter’s shoulders tightly.
“Stop that, I can’t think,” Stiles said, his voice more breathy than he would ever admit to. Even though Peter pulled back as asked, Stiles couldn’t help but feel the loss of his mouth. “I mean that I won’t be able to stay back and do that balance bullshit that Deaton and Morrell always espoused.”
“You aren’t a druid for one,” Peter said, chuckling, “two, you came back in time due to what amounts to a chaos ritual. I highly doubt that you would ever hold balance over what you deemed was the correct action.”
“That won’t be a problem?” He felt Peter’s hands running up and down his back as if to comfort his worries.
“No sweetheart,” Peter said, “I think I’m definitely going to like having an emissary that will fight for the pack rather than sit by and let them burn.”
“Okay,” Stiles nodded. “Okay.”
Stiles knew that Peter meant that quite literally, and he leaned forward, initiating a kiss for the first time.
Peter’s hands moved down his back, and Stiles felt his body begin to heat. His stomach fluttered and tightened at the possessive grip of Peter’s hands settling on his hips. Peter’s hands slipped under Stiles’ borrowed shirt, his hands like brands on his skin.
Stiles moaned, his head falling back when Peter gently traced fingers along the waist of his jeans. Peter lost no time in attaching his mouth to his throat, alternating between soft and hard sucking kissing along that expanse of skin.
The thought of Peter marking him there, of what having his throat bared to an alpha like Peter meant. It left Stiles panting, body hungry for more. “Too many clothes,” he gasped, “Peter, please.” A whine escaped his throat when Peter bit down where his neck met shoulder.
“In good time darling,” Peter replied, pressing a smirk into Stiles’ neck, but Stiles heard how breathless he was. “You are gorgeous like this.”
Stiles gave another whine when Peter’s fingers flipped open the button on his jeans and dipped his fingers down to brush over his clothed cock before urging Stiles up off his lap.
“If we’re going to continue this, I have to insist we use a bed,” Peter said, wrapping his hand back at Stiles’ neck and kissing him again.
“You are a cruel tease Peter Hale,” Stiles said, looking into the other man’s eyes.
“Not teasing if I plan to follow through,” Peter smirked, caught him by the hand, and led him down the hall and up the stairs to his bedroom.
“You know we should be planning the fallout of all this right now,” Stiles said, slipping the shirt off over his head and tossing it on the floor, watching as Peter slipped his shoes off before unbuttoning his own slacks.
“We can strategize after,” Peter replied, prowling towards him, his eyes intent. “I’ve been fantasizing about having you spread out on my bed for too long to put it off for anything else right now.”
“Yeah?” Stiles felt his breath leave him when Peter pulled his sweater and undershirt off in one move. “You are too fucking gorgeous.”
“That shouldn’t sound like a complaint,” Peter said with a laugh. “I’d return the compliment without reservation if I could get you out of those jeans.”
“Well since you asked so nicely,” Stiles slipped the jeans past his hips, allowing them to pool at his feet before kicking them away.
He stood in front of Peter in nothing but a pair of dark grey boxer briefs, enjoying the hunger he saw in the wolf’s eyes as they flashed at him.
“I don’t think gorgeous quite covers it,” Peter said, coming closer, wrapping an arm around Stiles’ waist, and pulling him flush against his body. “You’re exquisite.”
Stiles felt heat rushing to his face as his stomach clenched at the sincerity in Peter’s words.
Peter kissed him slow and sensuously, running his hands through Stiles’ hair and pulling him in closer to lick into his mouth. Pulling back, Peter got Stiles’ attention by reaching down and cupping him through his briefs.
“Last chance Stiles,” Peter said with a smirk when Stiles whined and arched into his hand. “Tell me no and we’ll stop. You’ll be my emissary and pack, but if we continue we’re going down the path to mates.”
“Peter, if I didn’t want to continue this, I would have sent you up here by yourself.” Stiles said, trying to clear his mind a little, “You are being very chivalrous, but I’m sure.”
Peter groaned and claimed Stiles’ mouth in another hungry kiss.
“Bed,” Stiles groaned into the kiss, “We need the bed Peter.”
Peter could hardly deny Stiles anything at this moment, especially when he wanted it so much as well. He moved his mouth down to graze his jaw, nipping at it before doing the same at the pale column of the throat that was on display.
They moved toward the bed without letting go of each other; Stiles twisted them until he was under Peter on the bed. He arched against Peter’s body, rubbing their cocks together through the thin material they still wore.
Peter’s hands ran up Stiles’ bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake and anticipation burning in his blood. “Fuck, I want you.” Peter’s eyes were full-on red now.
“You can have me,” Stiles replied with a grin, which Peter leaned down to taste. Then Stiles’ brain went muzzy as Peter slipped down his body, his fingers catching on Stiles’ underwear as he dragged them down his legs.
Peter tossed them to the side, leaving his own on for now. He leaned down and took hold of Stiles’ cock, licking a stripe up the underside of it. He used one hand on Stiles’ stomach to hold him down.
Stiles reached out and grabbed a handful of the bedding as he tried to arch into the touch, “Peter, fuck Peter.”
“So gorgeous like this Stiles,” Peter said before he leaned down and took all of Stiles into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip. He sucked bobbed down to get more into his mouth, paying careful attention to all of Stiles’ reactions. The way his blood moved through his veins, the galloping heartbeat, and Stiles’ groans and whines.
Stiles reached down and got a hand into Peter’s hair, but he didn’t pull or try to direct; it was like he was just hanging on. “Peter, Peter, I’m going to.”
Peter took more into his mouth and sucked with another swirl of his tongue, and Stiles came undone above him. The hand in his hair tightened for a moment, and Stiles’ hips gave abortive little movements as he tried to thrust up into Peter’s mouth.
Peter pulled back, leaving a biting kiss on the inside of Stiles’ thigh and then sitting up to look at the debauched spark spread out on his sheets.
“You look so lovely like this Mieczysław,” Peter said with reverence, even managing to pronounce Stiles’ name correctly. “All spread out and debauched with just my mouth. I have to wonder how you’ll look as you take my cock.”
Stiles gave a moaning shudder, body arching again, just at the thought of Peter’s cock in him. “Yes, yes please Peter. I need it.” Stiles knew he was just shy of actual begging.
Peter had his hands mapping Stiles’ skin while he listened to the man under him. He grazed a nail over Stiles’ nipple and grinned at the whining response he received.
“You are a needy thing aren’t you?” Peter said, amused and already planning how to take advantage of that.
“Nothing wrong with that,” Stiles said a little defensively as he came down from his orgasm. “I know what I want.”
“Nothing wrong with it at all,” Peter leaned down and caught his mouth, dipping in to taste Stiles one more time before he reached for the nightstand and took a bottle of lube from the drawer. “I happen to like you needy for me.”
Peter pulled back, sitting in between Stiles’ splayed legs. “Turn over, sweetheart,” He helped Stiles get his languid body moving until he was face down on the bed, his lovely ass in the air. Peter ran a hand down the smooth, heated skin of his back, coming to the round curves of his ass.
“Now this is a pretty sight,” He said as Stiles moved into his hands; he leaned down, unable to help himself and bit Stiles’ ass, then soothing the spot with his tongue before biting again, determined to mark that pale expanse of skin. Stiles moaned into the pillow, his body jerking.
“Peter, come on,” His voice was nearly begging, “Do something please. Anything.”
“You should be careful what you ask for, sweetheart,” Peter groaned as he spread Stiles’ ass; leaning in, Peter ran his tongue over the hole. He grinned at the filthy moan Stiles let out and did it again, this time swirling his tongue a little.
“Peter,” Stiles chanted his name over and over again, trying to push his ass back into Peter, trying to get more of his tongue.
Peter ate him out like it was his only mission in life; he popped the lube cap without looking and got some on his fingers. He pulled his mouth back and groaned at the flush coming down Stiles’ back and the curl of hair at the nape of his neck.
He took some more lube and spread it on a couple of fingers, going back to that hole, rubbing against it, and smirking as Stiles tried to push back into the touch.
“More Peter, I need more,” Stiles’ breath came out in hitching little moans as Peter started to add pressure with his fingers.
Unable to ignore Stiles’ pleas, Peter pushed in a finger, watching Stiles’ body open up around it and suck it in.
“Oh,” Stiles’ moan was almost a croon this time, his hips rising up and his hands fisting at the sheets beneath him. “Peter, please.”
“Fuck, darling, you’re tight,” Even as he said it, Peter pulled out and added more lube before giving him his finger again.
“It’s been a while,” Stiles mumbled into the pillow as he tried thrusting back at Peter.
Peter pushed his finger in and out, trying to be patient and let Stiles get used to the feel of it. It didn’t take long at all before Stiles was full-on riding it, bucking back and sliding forward, trying to get some leverage on his knees.
Peter slid a second finger in beside the first, “You’re taking it so well, look at you darling, just lovely.”
He curled his fingers just so and watched Stiles’ whole body move like liquid silk on the bed.
“Oh fuck, Peter. So good, I need it. Oh.” Stiles was starting to speak almost entirely in moans and cursing, interspersed with begging.
“You ready for me, sweetheart?” Peter asked, pushing his fingers deeper, leaning forward, and reaching under Stiles to run a finger up his dripping cock.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Stiles said. “I want to see you.”
Pulling his fingers free, Peter helped him turn over. Peter looked down at the flushed man who lay on his bed and felt his cock jerk. “Fuck, aren’t you a sight spread out like this.”
Peter stood to quickly rid himself of the last of his clothing before crawling back on top of Stiles. He reached down and reapplied more lube to his fingers; he slipped them back into his body and watched, mesmerized as his fingers disappeared into him once more.
“Come on, Peter, I’m ready please. I need your cock in me now.” Stiles’ head thrashed back and forth on the pillows, his hips made thrusting motions in the air as he fucked himself on Peter’s fingers.
“You feel fantastic darling.” Peter said, letting his fingers slide away. He settled himself and drew Stiles’ hips up, and started the slow, steady slide into him.
“Yes, Peter, oh yes, more.” Stiles’ back bowed up, trying to get Peter in deeper, but with the way Peter had him situated, Stiles could only lay there and take what Peter gave him. “I need, Peter, I need.”
“Don’t worry, I know what you need sweetheart,” Peter gritted his teeth against the feel of Stiles around his cock, the silken heat drawing him in and leaving him breathless.
“Oh,” Stiles’ mouth dropped open as Peter bottomed out, “Don’t move.”
Peter stilled with his hips flush against Stiles, taking deep breaths to avoid coming in the next few seconds. “Stiles, baby, okay?”
“Yes, Peter, you’re so big,” Stiles panted, “Feel fucking fantastic.”
Peter leaned forward and caught one of Stiles nipples with his fingers and pinched; he felt Stiles tighten around him and groaned.
“Peter move,” Stiles begged, “Please, need it now.”
“Yes, sweetheart,” Peter started moving his hips, rolling rather than thrusting. Stiles babbled in three different languages, soft sexy words filling the air. It made Peter harder, more desperate.
Peter leaned forward and tucked his face into Stiles’ neck, rolling his hips in a steady movement, feeling the heat build. They rocked together like that, Peter’s balls growing heavy with Stiles rhythmically tightening around his cock.
“Peter, please I’m going to, fuck Peter come inside me.” Stiles begged.
Peter sat back up, “You want that? You’ll smell of me for days; when we go to meet with other wolves, they’ll know exactly who you belong to.” Peter began to thrust hard, the soft rolling left behind in desperation to lay his claim on Stiles.
“Yes, want them all to know,” Stiles panted, moaning. “Want them all to know I’m yours and your mine.”
“Yes, mine,” Peter growled, “and I’m yours.” Peter got his hand around Stiles’ cock and began to move in time with his thrusts. “Come for me sweetheart, I want to see it.”
“Oh, yes Peter, please.” Stiles shuddered, back bowed again, “Peter!” He came with Peter’s name echoing around the room.
After a moment, Peter let go of his cock and held onto his hips. Once Stiles seemed to be back with him, he began to pound into the man, chasing his own pleasure.
“Come for me Peter, want you in me,” Stiles began to babble again as his brain started to come back online.
“Stiles,” Peter shuddered when Stiles ran his hands up the sides of his ribs before moving to his chest and pinching his nipples.
“Come for me Peter,” Stiles pleaded, “I need you to.”
Peter was helpless to disobey, and a few thrusts later, he shuddered and came with a growl.
Peter lay on his back next to Stiles, breathing heavily. Stiles wasn’t surprised about how good the sex had been; he was surprised by its intensity between the two of them this first time.
“That was fucking fantastic,” He managed to say once he’d caught his breath. He turned to look at Peter, who was looking back at him. “I’m tempted not to move, but I really need a shower now.”
Peter huffed and sat up, “Let’s see what we can do about that.” He offered Stiles a hand up, and Stiles staggered to his feet once he was out of bed.
He followed Peter into the bathroom that adjoined the bedroom, still holding Peter’s hand. Peter finally let go, turned the shower on, and gave Stiles a push to get under the water while he went to the sink to brush his teeth.
Stiles closed his eyes and let the hot waterfall down over him. The water pressure was perfect. He didn’t really expect anything else from Peter’s shower, but it was still fantastic. Turning, he put his arms on the wall and ducked his head down under the spray.
He heard Peter moving around and, a few seconds later, felt his arms wrap around him. “I’m glad you’re here,” Stiles said, looking over his shoulder. “Not just because of the awesome sex, but I don’t know if I could do this on my own.”
“Sweetheart, I have no doubt that you could pull this all off on your own,” Peter leaned forward and caught Stiles mouth with his own, tasting of mint from his earlier activities. “That being said, I am glad to be here with you and only some of that is because of the fantastic sex.”
Stiles laughed, turning around in Peter’s arms. “Why weren’t we having sex years ago?”
Peter chuckled, pulling him in close and biting him at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “Because you were the definition of jailbait, which didn’t interest me and when you got interesting, you were off limits.”
“Off-limits?” Stiles frowned; he could understand the jail bait comment and was a little relieved that Peter hadn’t been harboring a secret desire for his sixteen-year-old ass.
“First it was Scott’s pack and as much as I might have wanted to punch the little fucker in the face, I knew better than to come between the two of you. Then when you were having your own problems with him, I didn’t want to make them worse.” He smiled at Stiles’ scoffing. “Not just for you darling, but I didn’t need anymore of Scott’s attention on me than necessary. I had no desire to end up an omega.”
“What about after?” Stiles said, talking about when Derek had taken over the pack, “Surely Derek wouldn’t have been an ass about it all?”
“Really, Stiles?” Peter looked him straight in the eye, and Stiles could only look back in confusion. “Derek wanted you almost as much as I did; he was just being too much of a martyr to do anything about it. If he’d had a few more years, he might have made a move.” Peter laughed at the look on Stiles’ face; he reached behind, grabbing some shampoo. Turning Stiles back around, he pulled his head back and began washing Stiles’ hair. “He might not have made a move, but I knew better than to do so unless I wanted my throat ripped out again.”
“Derek didn’t,” Stiles couldn’t even finish what he was saying. “Seriously?” the thought just didn’t compute.
“Yes, seriously,” Peter said, “Tilt back so I can rinse you.” He reached up and detached the showerhead to rinse Stiles’ hair easier. “Still glad you ended up here with me?”
Stiles turned, sputtering when Peter caught him with the water before turning it away. “No, I didn’t want this with Derek.” At Peter’s raised eyebrow, Stiles rolled his eyes. “Oh, I wanted into his jeans when I was sixteen for about five seconds, but he was the saddest angriest person I’ve ever seen – just this huge ball of anger and sadness that he couldn’t figure out what to do with. It was a bit of a libido killer. We got close there at the end, but any real sexual feelings I had for him were quite muted by his lack of ability to really communicate with me. We would have killed each other within days of getting together.” Stiles shook his head. Yeah, he’d had his high school fantasies about Derek, but once he’d got to know the guy, they’d become impossible to keep.
“Is that so?” Peter asked, getting Stiles to turn back around so he could condition his hair.
“I want to protect this Derek, to keep him from becoming the damaged man we know in the past future.” Stiles said, “I have no desire to have sex with him, besides he’s like fifteen or something like that right now. Eww, no!”
“Well all right then,” Peter replied, but Stiles could swear he heard relief in it. “Rinse.”
Stiles rinsed his hair before hanging the showerhead back up, “Peter, I don’t want anyone here with me, but you. I didn’t get to choose a partner in this, but if I did, I can honestly say I would have picked you, no question.”
“I wouldn’t want anyone else here on this trip either.” Peter said, managing to sound aloof even when his eyes held the relief he wouldn’t voice.
“Here, you washed my hair, let me get yours,” Stiles shelved the conversation, trading places with Peter, he began to wash his hair. “We need to address a few things before we go much further in this time period, though.”
“Yes, your name for one and your identity paperwork.” Peter said, following Stiles’ thoughts, as he so often had in the past.
“Yeah, my other self isn’t going by Stiles yet, at this point he’s still going by Mischief. I’ll have to have a different name I suppose, but I want to keep Mieczysław. It’s impossible for people to say, but it was and is mine.” Stiles said, feeling a little defensive about it.
“If you want to keep your name, I’m not going to tell you that you can’t.” Peter’s voice was as firm as his hands were when he turned around and cupped Stiles’ face. “You want to use the last name you gave Talia?”
“Black?” Stiles turned his face into one of Peter’s hands and left a kiss on the palm before he stepped back and turned Peter back around to finish his hair. “Yeah, give a nod to my obsession with Harry Potter, Sirius Black got the shaft in that series.”
Peter tilted his head back to rinse and chuckled at Stiles, “I suppose that is one way to choose a name.”
“Think you can call me by something other than Stiles?”
He laughed breathlessly when Peter caught him around the waist, turning to push him against the wall of the shower.
“I’ll call you whatever you ask me to, but I don’t see any reason you can’t go by Stiles.” Peter had his hands against the wall on either side of Stiles’ head now. He leaned in to capture his lips in a soft, sweet kiss that tasted of water, mint, and Peter.
“You don’t think someone will connect me to a certain deputy and his family?” Stiles asked when Peter moved back.
“Why would they?” Peter asked, “People will probably have a lot of questions about you dearheart, but I doubt anyone is going to take time travel as a serious theory.”
“I’m probably over thinking huh?” Stiles said. He leaned in this time to catch Peter’s lips with his, nibbling on his bottom lip as he pulled back.
“If you don’t want to make this shower more adventurous than I’d planned, you should stop that,” Peter said; his mouth was turned up into a wicked smile that said he didn’t mind at all.
“Yeah? How adventurous are we talking?” since Stiles had been hard since Peter had pushed him into the wall, he wasn’t objecting either.
Instead of answering, Peter slipped his hands down to Stiles’ hips. “Turn around sweetheart.”
Stiles turned around so quickly he almost lost his balance on the slick floor, but Peter was there to catch him. He leaned his arms against the tile of the shower wall and leaned his head on them.
Peter tilted Stiles’ hips up, slipping two fingers down and into him, “Fuck sweetheart, you take this so well.”
“Peter,” Stiles would never admit to the whine that came from him as Peter curled his fingers just right. “Feels so good.” He sighed as one of Peter’s hands held onto his hip while his fingers moved in and out of him at a leisurely rhythm.
“Not too sore sweetheart?” Peter asked softly, leaning forward enough to place a kiss at the back of Stiles’ neck.
“No, not sore.” Stiles arched up to his toes when Peter hit that spot, whining softly. “Peter, please, please.”
“So beautiful for me.” Peter whispered, his voice just louder than the spray of the water falling around them.
“Peter,” Stiles tried to inject some command into his tone. “If you don’t put your cock in me,”
Peter removed his fingers, lined himself up, and pushed inside Stiles before he could finish his sentence. “Like this, darling?”
“Fuck,” Stiles rose up on his toes, leaning heavily into the tiles of the shower wall. “Yes, so good Peter.”
Peter kept both hands on his hips, moving in and out of Stiles at a steady pace. “You love this don’t you?”
“Your cock is great,” Stiles said with no shame, “Faster Peter please.”
“Of course darling,” He began to move faster.
Stiles began to give hitching little moans, using the wall for leverage he pushed back at Peter.
“Oh sweetheart,” Peter’s voice was tight with lust, “That’s right, fuck yourself on my cock. Take what you need.”
Stiles took everything that Peter gave him and more. It didn’t take long until they were both on edge. Peter moved a hand from Stiles’ waist around to his cock, determined to make Stiles come with him.
“Peter, Peter,” Stiles said his name like it was a prayer. He shuddered as he came hot and hard over Peter’s hand; Peter kept moving, working him through it.
His knees went weak; only Peter’s renewed grip on his waist kept him upright as Peter thrust a few more times, coming with a nonsensical shout.
He leaned heavily on Stiles’ back for a moment before standing, his cock slipping out. Stiles felt Peter’s come drip down the back of his thighs. He went to stand up and turn around, but Peter held him still for a moment.
“What?” Stiles was confused for a second before he realized what Peter was looking at. “Like me being marked up like this for you then?”
“Fuck sweetheart. I knew I would, but I didn’t know how much I was going to like it,” Peter said, finally removing his hands and helping Stiles stand up.
They leaned on each other under the water, washing as quickly as they could before getting out. Peter insisted on drying Stiles, which was probably for the best as he was beginning to fade.
Time travel, purifying the Nemeton, releasing the Nogitsune, and two very excellent rounds of sex were apparently his limit for the morning.
They made their way back into Peter’s bedroom, where Peter had Stiles wait while he changed the sheets. Stiles finally laid down, his eyes already closing.
“I think I want to be Stiles,” He murmured quietly.
“Then be Stiles darling,” Peter said, pulling the covers over him, “I’ll be right back, I’m going to lock up.”
Stiles watched Peter leave the room, his naked ass flexing with each step. His eyes were slipping shut again as he tried to wait for his wolf to return.
Stiles woke later feeling confused with the heavyweight of an arm over him. He hadn’t had a lover in well over a year, and he never stayed overnight with his one-night stands.
As his mind fully woke up, he felt the flush of arousal move through him, remembering the events of the early morning before he’d finally slept.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it’s making you smell divine,” Peter’s sleep hoarse voice murmured in his ear.
“Yeah?” Stiles said, his voice just as husky, and he moved his body back further into the cradle of Peter’s body. He felt him hot and hard already, Stiles’ his own body responding with dizzying speed. “How do I smell?”
“Hmm,” Peter gave gentle little rolls of his hips, rubbing his hard cock along Stiles’ ass. He reached a hand down to grasp Stiles’ cock, giving it a couple slow strokes before moving further down and cupping Stiles’ balls, giving them a gentle squeeze.
“Peter,” Stiles said his name in a breathless sigh. He rocked back towards Peter’s cock, where it was already leaking behind him, then forward into the hand that was gently massaging his balls.
“Just take it Stiles, take what I can give you,” Peter murmured into his ear, his lips beginning to trail down his jaw to his neck, leaving biting little kisses on the way.
Stiles moaned, “Yeah, okay.” He surrendered himself into Peter’s hands.
“Good love, very good.” Peter moved his hand up from where he’d been playing with Stiles’ balls to his cock. He began to stroke him soft and slow before sitting up just enough to grab the lube from the headboard. Stiles watched with a hazy gaze as Peter got some lube and returned to Stiles’ cock.
The slide of Peter’s hand was heaven and hell all rolled into one. Stiles couldn’t help the moaning whine that came from his throat. “S’good, Pet’r,” Stiles managed to slur out around the pleasure that was crashing over him in waves.
Peter moved soft and slow, letting the rolls of his hips set the rhythm of his hand. “You’re so lovely, darling.”
“Oh, yes,” Stiles moaned; he felt the orgasm start to crash over him, lightning sparking from his spine. He arched into Peter as he let go.
Peter stroked him through his orgasm until Stiles gave a whine as he became over-sensitive. Wiping his hand off on the sheet, he rolled Stiles over onto his back, kissing him hard and desperately.
Stiles felt Peter’s cock, hard and needy, thrusting at his hip. “Come here,” He pulled at Peter until he was over on his back. Stiles gave Peter a wicked smile as he moved down his body.
“Stiles,” Peter’s voice was wrecked as he came to the realization of what was happening. “You don’t.”
“I want to,” He stroked Peter’s cock, looking up at the man. “I really want your cock in my mouth, unless you have any objections.”
Peter sucked in a sharp breath when Stiles’ tongue came out, and he licked up the underside of his cock. “No objections, darling, none at all.”
“Good,” Stiles said before he leaned down and took Peter into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the underneath of the head as he went down. The taste of him burst thick and salty over his tongue.
“Fuck Stiles, darling,” Peter began to babble above him, “Your mouth feels so good.”
Stiles hummed as he took more of Peter in.
“Such a sweet thing. Your mouth was made to take my cock wasn’t it?” Peter murmured, his hand coming down to rest on Stiles’ head. He didn’t push, just left his hand there to card through Stiles’ hair. “So lovely for me.”
Stiles felt himself preen under the words of praise spilling from Peter’s mouth and down on his head.
It didn’t take long until Stiles felt Peter’s hand tighten slightly in his hair. “Stiles, love, I’m going to come.”
Stiles hummed again, taking him even deeper, sucking just hard enough to have Peter shouting his name among a garbled amount of nonsense. He suckled on Peter until he was pulled off by gentle hands.
“I knew your mouth would be a wonder,” Peter said with a hoarse laugh, dragging Stiles in for a harsh kiss. He licked into his mouth as if searching for the taste of Stiles beneath his own come. “I just didn’t know what a wonder it would be.”
“Hmm,” Stiles stretched, preening like a cat. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He rolled over and hopped out of bed. “Now I need another shower, and we should get ready for the day.”
“I could use a shower,” Peter was up and prowling towards Stiles.
“Nope, no,” Stiles laughed as he hopped backwards into the bathroom. “Separate showers or we will never leave your bedroom.”
“I suppose you have a point,” Peter said, eyeing the naked man standing in front of him. “After things are settled, though, I am going to keep you in here as long as you’ll let me.”
“Promises, promises,” Stiles said, backing the rest of the way into the bathroom and shutting the door on Peter’s laugh.
Stiles finished his shower quickly and met Peter down in the kitchen. According to the clock on the wall, it was well into the afternoon, but that didn’t stop Peter from making them a full course breakfast, with waffles, eggs, and everything.
“This looks great,” Stiles said, taking a seat at the counter and watching Peter move around the kitchen.
Stiles let his gaze move over Peter slowly, taking in his dark slacks, the soft-looking sweater he was wearing, the curl of hair still damp at the nape of his neck, and his bare feet. Stiles felt his stomach tighten with something a lot like lust, but more. He rolled his eyes at the grin, and wink Peter threw at him over his shoulder.
Stiles was enjoying this Peter, even though he knew that this was the same Peter that he’d known in the future, there was a relaxation to him, a freedom about him that Stiles didn’t think he’d ever seen before.
He didn’t think it was just the great sex they’d had, though he was sure that helped put Peter in a good mood.
“What’s on your mind,” Peter asked, sliding the plates of food onto a table in the corner of the kitchen and waving Stiles over.
Stiles slid off the stool and into a chair next to Peter, “Nothing really, you just seem,” He paused, trying to think about how to put it before shrugging, “You seem happier here. You don’t just look younger, you seem as if you are actually younger. If that makes sense.”
Peter hummed, taking a bite of his food, “I suppose that the lack of broken bonds and physical damage my mind had taken helps. I still know about what those things felt like, but they are muted for me now. The horror of losing my pack, well it isn’t quite like a bad dream, but it does feel like it happened in another life.” He shrugged, “Which I suppose it did, especially if we make sure it never happens.”
Stiles stared at him, fear tracing icy fingers over the nape of his neck. “You don’t think you’ll forget the future that we’re preventing do you?”
He didn’t say, ‘do you think you’ll forget me?’ but from the way that Peter reached over and grasped the back of his neck, pulling him in for a firm, syrup sticky kiss, Stiles thought he might have heard it anyway.
“I don’t think so,” Peter said firmly, “It’s more like something drew a veil over it, to make my transition into this body and time easier than it would have been otherwise.”
“Okay,” Stiles began to eat while he thought about what needed to be done. “Your sister is going to be a problem, isn’t she?”
“I wish I could say no,” Peter said ruefully. “She wasn’t the best alpha in the last few years before the fire in my opinion. Then again I don’t know everything she was dealing with behind the scenes.”
“Yeah, things have been coming to light over the past few years as we tried to figure out what happened with the Nemeton.” Stiles took a sip of coffee, prepared just the way he liked it. Black with plenty of sugar. “Your sister let quite a few things slide and then seems to have blatantly ignored other things that should have been dealt with.”
“Exactly,” Peter agreed. He took a bite of egg, chewing as he thought. “We know that she ignored the warning signs of the Argents for one reason or another. Yet she refused to offer Deucalion any assistance before or after the peace talks.”
“We’ve come back before them, before Paige.” Stiles said. “How do you think that things will play out if we interfere in the talks?”
“I’m not sure, Deucalion always respected Talia before that. Afterwards, he blamed her for his failures.”
“What about Derek?” Stiles asked, referring to the whole episode with Paige. “I’d like to keep him from having to do what he did. Especially since I just purified the Nemeton, it would be nice to keep virgin sacrifices away from it for a while.”
Peter choked out a laugh, “That isn’t funny Stiles.”
“It’s a little funny,” He grinned before sobering. “We did learn to laugh at just about anything there at the end, didn’t we?”
“Yes, I suppose we did.” Peter agreed.
“So we keep Derek from trying to get Ennis to bite Paige,” Stiles said. “That shouldn’t be too hard, right?”
“No, it shouldn’t,” Peter reached out and took a drink of his own coffee. “I mostly set that up to protect the pack from the fallout of Ennis biting some random stranger. If he’d bitten Paige and it had taken, then he’d have a beta to replace the one that was lost. She was also connected to our family through Derek, even if it was in such an ephemeral way.”
“So even though she didn’t ask for the bite, it should have been enough to keep most code abiding hunters away from you, the Hales.” Stiles finished the thought. “Pretty smart and very diabolical. Even if it had played out that way, Derek would never have forgiven you.”
“Maybe not,” Peter said with a shrug, “but as the left hand my duty was to protect the pack as a whole and in that play, what my nephew wanted wasn’t of greater significance than what the pack needed. Derek was always my favorite, but the pull to protect the pack was greater at the time.”
Stiles nodded, “That makes sense.” He stood up and poured himself some more coffee before coming back to sit down. He trailed his fingers over Peter’s shoulder as he passed by. “So, we keep Ennis away from Paige. Help Deucalion, at least so he doesn’t end up blind and cray cray.” Stiles laughed when Peter glared at him for his word choice.
“Don’t say it like that, for christ’s sake Stiles,” Peter huffed at him. “You sound completely idiotic.”
“Probably,” Stiles was unrepentant. “You’ve had time to get used to it though, I don’t know why you’re always so surprised.”
“I don’t know either,” Peter shook his head, even as he reached over and drew the back of his fingertips down Stiles’ freshly shaven cheek. “Must be because I like you that I put up with it.”
“Well,” Stiles said with another laugh, raising his mug and kissing Peter’s fingers. “Here’s to putting up with each other.”
“Is that a declaration of love sweetheart,” Peter grinned at him.
Stiles felt his cheeks heat but shook his head. “No, but this is. Peter Hale, I love you.”
“Well,” Peter sat back, obviously flummoxed. “I love you as well. Are you sure Stiles? You showed nothing of these feelings before coming back in time.”
“Why would I have?” Stiles sat back, eyeing Peter over the top of his coffee mug. “You nailed it earlier, nothing could have come of it without the both of us cutting ourselves completely off of the pack and my family.”
“And now we don’t have to worry about those things?” Peter asked with his brows raised.
“Well, technically I don’t have any family here and your being an alpha cuts you out of your sister’s pack already.” Stiles shrugged and sipped more coffee.
“That is true.” Peter said agreeably, “What are we going to do about it.”
“We don’t have to do anything about it right now,” Stiles looked at him. “Do we? We have the time to just enjoy it, what is between us, while we run around trying to fix everything.”
“Enjoy it,” Peter looked like he was mulling that over. “I think that would be wonderful.”
“We’re going to have enough pressure and headaches dealing with everything else,” Stiles said, gesturing with the hand not holding his mug. “I think we should just enjoy ourselves in this capacity for now.”
“I plan to enjoy myself quite often then,” Peter smirked.
Stiles laughed, “I won’t object, that’s for sure.”
“Okay,” Peter nodded and then went back to the original subject. “Talia will be an issue, yes, but soon enough wolves in her pack will be coming to join mine. That will tell us exactly how much trouble we can expect from her and for the most part, what kind of trouble.”
“You said that earlier, about other wolves in the pack coming to you now that you’re an alpha.” Stiles leaned forward with his elbows on the table, mug set aside for now. “How does that work, is it like regular wolf packs that split when a new alpha pair grows up?”
“Not exactly,” Peter said. Stiles could tell he was trying to find the right way to explain it. “It’s similar, but being a werewolf is magic based. Even if the majority don’t have anything to do with magic outside of the change, our bonds are based in some of the oldest magic in our world. When a wolf, who isn’t the heir to the current alpha, becomes an alpha they have a couple choices. You heard Talia on the phone telling me that I needed to cede her my power and that she’d get Deaton to help.”
“Yeah, I assumed it was kind of like when Derek challenged Scott and took the alpha power without killing him,” Stiles said.
“It is similar,” Peter agreed with a nod. “Most betas choose this route, because despite what you’ve seen in Beacon Hills, most betas have no desire to become an alpha or take on the duties of one. Especially if it means leaving the pack they are currently in.”
“So something like that is the most common way to take care of the issue then,” Stiles summarized neatly.
“Another option is for the new alpha to challenge the older and if they win, they will take the whole pack. Either demoting the old alpha, if they survived the challenge or by making them omega,” Peter wrinkled his nose. “That is the least used of the options.”
“I assume that’s because most of the older alphas have experience and the full power of a pack behind them?”
“Yes, exactly,” Peter nodded. “Another tactic is to go and make your own pack. Usually through the bite, slowly building your pack while establishing a new territory somewhere.”
“Not an option for us,” Stiles said. “At least not now while we need to be in Beacon Hills. Also I don’t think that the Nemeton is likely to let me establish a territory without it.”
“Should I be jealous of a tree now, sweetheart?” Peter asked. Stiles snorted at him. “The final option for a new alpha is to stay in their established territory. When this happens, and it is almost always the choice in large family packs like mine, if the new alpha doesn’t cede power. When this happens, the pack begins to split in a way to give the new alpha a foundation for their new pack.”
“So the magic of these bonds forces wolves to come into your pack?” Stiles frowned because that didn’t sound like a good way to have a harmonious pack at all.
“No,” Peter denies with a shake of his head. “The wolves that magic decides are best suited to the new pack or that aren’t getting what they need from the original pack are, for lack of a better word, called to the new alpha. They can choose to ignore it and stay in the original pack with no repercussions. Some do choose that, but from what I’ve researched, every pack member that follows the calling, this draw. They benefit just as much from being part of the foundation of a new pack as the alpha does from having that strong and stable foundation.”
“Well that sounds better at least,” Stiles smiled in relief. “Is there any way to know who will be called to you or how many?”
“Not in the least,” Peter said with a twist of his mouth that indicated how much he disliked not knowing something. “It could be two or it could be twenty. Some of it comes down to the size of the territory and the size of the original pack will most likely factor in as well.”
“You mentioned that you could feel your boundary lines being laid when you were talking to your sister,” Stiles said, finishing off his coffee and sitting back to let Peter get his empty dishes. “So you know that we can stay here then?”
“Yes, the territory is already dividing itself,” Peter put the dishes in the sink and turned to face Stiles. “Usually, the alphas get together with an emissary and agree on the official division of the territory. That’s for family disputes like this, though. Obviously, there are more complicated claims issues, but they aren’t relevant right now.”
“Then why are you getting new boundaries already? Do you think it has to do with coming back in time or how you inherited the spark?”
“No, I think it has to do with the fact that Talia is trying to deny my right as an alpha, another Hale alpha from the direct line since Laura isn’t one yet.”
“So if Laura were an alpha, you wouldn’t be in the direct line?” Stiles asked, a little confused.
“The last Hale Alpha was our father, that means that Talia, our sister Emma and I are all in the direct line right now. When Laura becomes alpha, Emma and I become cadet branches. While Derek, Dominic and Cora will be in the direct line with Laura until she passes the spark to her own child.”
“That is a lot like old royalty, but not,” Stiles said, tilting his head to make sense of it.
“It’s magic,” Peter said in a tone of voice that told Stiles he was only partly kidding. “This is just the way it has always been for shifters.”
“Okay,” Stiles said. He stood and crossed over to Peter, letting the man pull him into his arms. “Your sister won’t be able to challenge you on being an alpha or your territory though right?”
“She can try,” Peter’s shoulder moved beneath Stiles’ head as he shrugged. “I plan on making sure that the fact of my ascending to an alpha happened in front of others and that I didn’t, in fact, kill anyone for it is something that becomes very well known. I won’t let her start spreading around that I murdered another alpha for power. Or that I’m coming to steal her territory, which is what I’m sure she’s going to try for as soon as she realizes how serious I am about not surrendering to her my spark.”
“How will you do that? She’s got the family in the house and will be able to talk to them first.” Stiles replied.
“The whole of the pack doesn’t live in the house, some don’t even live in Beacon Hills proper. I’ll need to make some phone calls, but I should be able to get to enough of the people, the family, to put a few spokes in her wheel.”
“So she is definitely going to be a problem,” Stiles said, stepping back from Peter and sighing. “You go make those phone calls and I’ll see if I can figure out where to start with fixing all the things I came back to do.”
“We are killing the Argents soon right?” Peter asked with a gleam in his eye.
“They are top of the list right now,” Stiles said with a smirk. He turned to head back towards the living room, where they’d settled last night. “Peter if this is something that happens in packs, your being an alpha I mean, why couldn’t you go to the house last night or this morning?”
“Because the boundary lines didn’t begin to settle on me until Talia began to try to deny me any of the territory. Once she made the attempt at that, she forfeited the right to negotiating territory. If she’d thought about it, she wouldn’t have done that and would have set a meeting before voicing her denial.”
“So magic then,” Stiles said, knowing he wasn’t going to get a better explanation.
“Yes Stiles, magic.” Peter said, tugging him around and kissing him soundly.
Peter tasted predominantly of maple syrup and coffee. Stiles responded eagerly to the kiss, licking into Peter’s mouth to taste more of him. His hands came up to grasp the front of Peter’s sweater, which was even softer than it had looked. Peter’s arm can around his waist and pulled him in closer until their bodies were flush against each other.
“Okay,” Stiles said when they broke for air. “We are not going to get much done today if we don’t stop this.” He didn’t move away from Peter, though; in fact, he pressed himself even closer and bit at Peter’s jaw, causing him to growl and flash his eyes.
“That is not helping your argument at all, darling,” Peter said, his hands coming around to settle firmly on Stiles’ hips. He gave Stiles a hard closed-mouth kiss before carefully setting him away.
“Hey, you started that one,” Stiles said with a laugh.
“I’m not sorry,” Peter replied. “That being said, I do have those calls to make and we have plans to put into motion. You know how you hate being caught without a plan.”
“I’m not the only one,” Stiles said with a wry twist of his lips at Peter, but he went to sit on the couch. “I need a pen and some paper. I don’t even have a phone or electronics of any kind currently. I feel like I’m missing limbs here.”
“We’ll get you outfitted, I promise,” Peter said with a grin at his disgruntled partner. “I do think we should get your identity taken care of first though, before anyone has a chance to really dig into it.”
“Yeah, what do we need for that?” Stiles stood again and walked towards Peter as he dialed his cellphone.
“Roger,” Peter said, “I have some work for you.” There was dead silence on the other side, and then Stiles heard a flurry of loud cursing.
Peter just grinned and held the phone away from his ear until it wound down.
“He seems kind of excitable,” Stiles said, his mouth twitching in a smile at Peter’s look.
“Roger are you done?” Peter asked and then sighed. “No, I am not calling you Roge the Dog, ever.”
Stiles choked on a laugh and then, at Peter’s glare, started to laugh.
Peter let out a long sigh, “Fine Roge the Dog, I have some work for you.” He shook his head at Stiles’ continued laughter and pointed to the couch. “I need some papers.” He paused, rolling his eyes. “Not for me.”
Stiles smiled as he saw Peter almost forcibly contain the need to add ‘you idiot’ at the end of that.
“I’ll be coming down in two hours to pick up papers for Mieczysław Black,” Peter said, raising a brow at Stiles, who nodded back in agreement. “Age twenty six, hair dark brown, eyes brown, height five foot ten.”
Stiles turned from the conversation since he didn’t think that Peter needed his input anymore and started to look around the room he was in. It was a standard living room. Large enough for a couch, coffee table, and of course, Peter had a flat-screen tv on his wall above the fireplace. Stiles wasn’t even going to touch the fact that Peter had a fireplace at all while living in California.
The place had a nice open floor plan that Stiles appreciated, though he would never understand Peter’s obsession with all the white everywhere. Stiles had already seen the absolute heaven that was the bathroom with the enclosed shower and separate tub.
He walked out through the doors at the side of the living room and found himself on a covered porch. He moved forward to see that Peter did, in fact, have his house backed right up against the edge of the preserve. He left the porch; once his bare feet touched the earth, his connection with the Nemeton blew wide open, he fell to his knees as it overwhelmed his senses. He had a brief thought for the grass stains that were sure to be getting on Peter’s jeans that he’d borrowed, but the surging of the Nemeton soon pushed all other thoughts from his mind.
He floated in darkness. His head hurt, and his skin felt too tight. The Nemeton sent apologies.
“Open your eyes for me darling.”
“Too bright,” He whimpered.
A hand touched his face. The light dimmed.
“Try again for me.”
“It hurts,” Stiles said, his throat felt like he had gargled with glass. He managed to open his eyes and saw that Peter was looking at him, concern bleeding from his expression.
“There you are, sweetheart,” Peter said, running his fingers through Stiles’ hair. He’d obviously begun to take his pain because Stiles felt the pain in his head begin to ease almost immediately.
“What happened?” He asked, turning his head a little and realizing that he was lying with his head in Peter’s lap. Peter was leaning over in such a way to block most of the light in the room from him.
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Peter said; his voice was cool, and Stiles could tell he was angry, but the hand in his hair was still gentle. “I was in the middle of another phone call when your heartbeat suddenly spiked; I barely managed to end the call before you began to scream.”
“I don’t remember screaming,” Stiles said, but the shredded feeling of his throat gave verisimilitude to Peter’s words. “Can I get something to drink?”
Peter looked hesitant to let him go but nodded and helped him sit up on the couch. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
Usually, Stiles would argue with Peter’s dictatorial attitude, but he saw the fear that lingered beneath the anger and the orders. “Sure, don’t think I could make it very far anyway.”
“Good,” Peter made his way around the couch and into the kitchen to grab a bottle of his posh water from the fridge and was back before Stiles even had a chance to settle in the space he’d left. “Here.”
Stiles took the bottle that Peter had already opened and took a large drink. The chill of the water soothed the ache in his throat almost immediately, and he let out a sigh of relief when he handed the water to Peter to set on the coffee table.
“Now, perhaps you could tell me what happened out there,” Peter said with what Stiles knew to be highly restrained patience. “I would like to know if there is a threat out there that we haven’t accounted for.”
Stiles leaned into Peter’s side after he sat down, “I don’t think it was on purpose,” He ignored Peter’s scoff. “It was the Nemeton I think. I was looking around your house and found the porch, I saw the preserve and wanted to get a closer look at what area you were close to. I thought I might get an idea of where your territory borders would be.”
“How did that end with you curled up on the ground bleeding from your nose and ears, screaming your throat raw?” Peter asked, his voice as harsh as his hands were gentle on Stiles as he positioned him in his arms.
“That I couldn’t tell you,” Stiles shrugged and then winced as the movement pulled at muscles he hadn’t realized were sore. Peter’s hands were there, and the pain was melting away a moment later. “Thanks. Um, so I was heading out to look at the preserve at the back of your house, and as soon as my feet touched the ground, it was like the connection I have with the Nemeton was turned all the way up and amplified on top of that.”
“What connection?” Peter asked, “You mentioned something about this before and I know that it was part of what brought you back in time and facilitated our survival, but just how are you connected?”
“Looking back I think I’ve been connected to her since the sacrifice to save our parents during the alpha pack debacle. I know that when I was killed this time around I was in the Nemeton, or at least that’s what Nogitsune said and I think in this instance I can believe him.”
“As much as anyone can believe him, I suppose I agree with you,” Peter said, prodding him to continue.
“Right,” Stiles said before he continued. “Well between the chaos ritual that brought me back and then the purification ritual I was finishing up when you found me. I’m pretty sure I’m bound as her guardian.”
“So that’s what you meant when you said that you didn’t think she’d allow you to establish a territory without her.” Peter said dryly.
‘“Basically, yeah.” Stiles hunched his shoulders a little. He wondered briefly if this might be a little much for Peter.
“Well I guess I miscalculated,” Peter said, oblivious to Stiles’ distress or ignoring it. “Our pack consists of an Alpha, a spark and a tree currently.”
“What?” Stiles turned his head to look up at him from where he’d slouched down between Peter and the couch.
“Stiles,” Peter said with a sigh. “I don’t care if you’re a guardian to that tree. I do care if being a guardian hurts you. So unless you can tell me that what just happened was some sort of anomalous event I am going to be looking for a new guardian for that thing.”
“Well, at least you didn’t threaten to burn her down.” Stiles said, sitting back up, putting him practically in Peter’s lap.
“I know better than that darling,” Peter murmured, reaching out and brushing a hand down Stiles’ neck. “You told me about your bargains, remember. I wouldn’t want to do anything that would upset those.”
“Of course not,” Stiles said as he shifted to the side. “I don’t think it will happen again, not unless something attacks one of us. I believe that she was just as surprised as I was by the intensity of the connection. She was tempering it almost as soon as it knocked me off my feet, it was just so much that it overwhelmed me so quickly. I’ll have to be careful of touching the earth with bare feet or skin until I learn to control the conduit better. It’ll be like the lessons to control my spark all over again.”
“Hopefully with less blowing up of my furniture,” Peter said with a quirk of his mouth, and Stiles laughed at the memories.
“I can’t make any promises about your landscaping, though,” Stiles said with another laugh, feeling tired but mostly pain-free now. “I think I’m going to need a nap.”
Peter looked apologetic, “I wish I could let you stay here to take one, but we need to head down and get your new identification and you’ll need to come so that they can get your image.”
“I can sleep in the car,” Stiles shrugged. “I’m going to need clothes as well. I borrowed some of yours after my shower, but I can’t live out of your closet, no matter how large it is.”
“We’ll take care of that after the id,” Peter said. He stood and pulled Stiles to his feet. “We need to get some shoes on your feet first, though.” He headed towards his room, returning with shoes and socks for Stiles a short while later.
“Thanks again Peter,” Stiles said, feeling guilty about leaving it to Peter to provide so much of what they needed, of what he needed.
“Stiles,” Peter said, waiting until Stile was looking him in the eye before he continued. “I have plenty of money and contacts to take care of this part of things. I have no doubt that once you get your feet under you that you will be making your own contributions of an even greater measure to our partnership.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Stiles said. The thing was, he knew that Peter was right. As a spark, Stiles was considered extremely valuable, and as a trained spark who had survived so long with his mind intact, he was even more so.
Having Stiles in his pack and at his side was a coup that Peter would be able to bank quite a lot of his new pack’s reputation on. Sparks were notorious for choosing the side or pack, as the case may be, that was best able to keep them and their chosen territory safe. Sparks were known to be all over the board in their choices, but when they chose a pack to align with, it was always one that could protect them and the territory they called their own.
Sparks were also known to never choose a pack that was historically labeled as evil. In fact, it was known that if a pack turned while a spark was aligned with them, the spark would take them out or die trying.
“You know I’m right,” Peter disagreed. “Now enough of this, let’s go.” He led the way out front and to the car he’d driven Stiles to the house in last night.
“Okay, off to become someone new,” Stiles said, walking out of the house after Peter.
Peter opened the car door for Stiles and then went back to lock the house up before getting in himself. “We’ll head to Roger’s place first and get your identification taken care of. After that we’ll get something to eat and then get you some clothing. Unless there is something else you needed to do?”
“No, that sounds good,” Stiles said. He really did feel exhausted. “How long until we get there?”
“It’ll be about an hour,” Peter started the car, glancing over at Stiles. “Go ahead and lay your seat back. I’ll wake you when we get there.”
“Sounds good,” Stiles mumbled and did just that.
Stiles came awake when the car shut off. He looked around and saw they were in a business district of some kind. He looked at Peter, still, a little muzzy-headed. “We here then?”
“Yes, we’re here,” Peter sent him a smile a got out of the car.
Stiles sat his seat up and followed him out. He looked around; it seemed like a regular industrial business district. He had no idea which building he was supposed to get his fake identification, and he told Peter so.
“Well if it was fake it wouldn’t do you any good would it?” Peter said, starting to walk down the way towards a building made of bright red brick. “Roger works for the department of records, he is also a shifter and procures real documents for those of us who need such things to survive in the modern world nowadays.”
“Huh,” Stiles said, putting his hands into the pockets of the jeans he was wearing. The sweater he’d borrowed from Peter fit pretty well, but it was a little short in the sleeves, not noticeably, but Stiles preferred his sleeves to be a little looser and longer than Peter wore his. If he kept his hands in his pockets, he didn’t notice it as much. “So then my identification will be completely legit is what you’re saying.”
Peter huffed out a breath, “Your identification will be legitimate, yes.”
Stiles grinned at him, completely unrepentant about his word choices. He wouldn’t be him if he wasn’t needling Peter over something, no matter what the change was in their relationship.
“You annoy me,” Peter grumbled, even as he hooked a hand around Stiles’ neck and pulled him in for a quick hard kiss. “Let’s go in.”
Stiles smiled cheekily at him but followed him in without saying anything else. The inside of the building looked like a million other generic government offices that Stiles had been in before. Cubicle set up behind counters. Offices down narrow grey hallways.
Peter walked in and headed straight down one hallway; he placed his hand at Stiles’ back, pushing him along. Bemused, Stiles let himself be directed to a door about halfway down.
“Peter,” Roger Dawson stood as they came into the room.
He was a tall, solidly built man. He put Stiles in mind of Boyd, or what Boyd might have been had he made it to middle age.
Bitter pain stopped the breath in his chest for a minute, so many lives lost and nothing to show for it in the end. Nothing but blood and ash.
“Stiles,” Peter’s hands were on either side of his face. “Look and me sweetheart. There you go, focus on me.”
“Peter?” Stiles sucked in a breath, felt the burn in his lungs, and realized that he was having a panic attack. “Fuck.”
“It’ll be okay darling,” Peter said, one of his hands coming around to cup the back of his neck.
“Here, Peter,” Roger said from behind them, and Stiles saw a glass of water appear over Peter’s shoulder.
“Thank you, Roger,” Peter took the glass without looking; taking a swallow, he nodded and then held it to Stiles’ mouth. “Take a drink for me. There you go.”
Stiles took a drink and then leaned back, just then realizing that he’d somehow ended up on the floor with his back to the wall in the corner of the room. Wonderful, looked like his PTSD had traveled back with him as well.
“Well, that was fun,” Stiles muttered. He took the glass from Peter and drank some more, letting it rinse the taste of panic from his mouth and the acid down his throat. “Sorry.”
“No,” Peter said, taking his hand and helping him to his feet. “No apologies for that.”
Stiles smiled; he remembered that conversation from their future’s past. Peter had told him not to apologize for things that weren’t his fault, that it annoyed him. “Right, I’m not sorry then.”
“Good,” Peter turned back to Roger. “You have the papers we came for?”
“What?” Roger was obviously discombobulated but managed to get himself back together quickly. “Yes, yes of course, I have a driver’s license, passport, birth certificate, and social security card. Since this was done so quickly you on your own for the education background, but it shouldn’t be too much trouble for you to get it woven in without detection depending on what you want.”
“Excellent,” Peter nodded. “We just need pictures to finish out the identification?”
“Yes,” Roger gestured to a door between two bookcases behind his desk. “I have to the studio set up back here. It shouldn’t take too long since we just need a few.”
After that, it didn’t take long for Peter to direct Stiles through the process of getting his false papers. Any other time he’d be amused and pushing back, but he’d just been exhausted and more than willing to let Peter call the shots at that moment.
Once, they were seated back in Peter’s car with Stiles’ freshly printed identity papers on hand. Roger had assured him that the digital copies had been filed in the appropriate places as well.
“Everything okay?” Peter asked just over the sound of the engine as he pulled onto the street.
“Yeah,” Stiles said. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a minute before rolling his head to face Peter. “I just saw Roger in there and he looked enough like Boyd might’ve looked, you know, if…” He didn’t finish.
“Ah,” Peter nodded. He reached over and took Stiles’ hand, gripping it tightly for a brief moment before just holding it. “At least you know that Boyd would have more dignity than to have me call him some ridiculous code name on the phone.”
“Yeah?” Stiles laughed, feeling warmed not just by Peter’s acceptance of these jagged parts of him but his willingness to navigate them with him. ‘Roge, the dog, was it?”
“He’s not even a canine shifter Stiles,” Peter said with some affront. “He’s a moose Stiles, a moose. Why would I call him a dog?”
“A moose?” Stiles sat up, turning in his seat to stare at Peter. “He’s a moose? How is that…What the fuck Peter?”
“Exactly, Roge the Dog, my finely shaped ass,” Peter muttered, making a turn onto the highway.
“That wasn’t what I meant Peter Hale,” Stiles pointed a finger at the wolf. “I meant, how did you not tell me that moose shifters were a thing? We’ve known each other for over a decade now and moose shifters are a thing I needed to know Peter.”
“Huh?” Peter glanced over at Stiles, amusement playing across his face. “Really? Of all the things I kept from you over the years, this is what you’re going to get upset about?”
Stiles glared, “Maybe,” He frowned. “Moose shifters just sounds cool.”
“Excuse me?” Peter said, sounding personally insulted. “They are not cool. They are nothing more than lumbering horses with horns.”
“But they are so cute. I’ve always wanted to pet one,” Stiles said, watching as Peter got more riled up. He wondered how far he could push this before Peter caught on. “I’ve read that they are pretty vicious too, really dangerous when they go on the attack.”
“Dangerous,” Peter sputtered; he opened and closed his mouth a few more times. “I don’t even know what to say to that Stiles.”
“Well it does take a pack of wolves to take down a single moose doesn’t it?” Stiles said innocently, bracing himself as Peter practically flung them off the highway and into a deserted rest stop.
“Stiles,” Peter turned in his seat to stare at him.
“Yes Peter?” Stiles looked back at him, making sure to keep his eyes wide and his face as guileless as possible.
“You’re fucking with me aren’t you?”
“Why would you think that?”
“You are going to get you ass spanked if you keep it up sweetheart,” Peter said with his eyebrow raised.
Stiles smirked at him, “If you think that’s going to be a deterrent Peter, then you really don’t know me very well.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised you’d be a brat,” Peter laughed.
Reaching over, he threaded his fingers into Stiles’ hair and tilted his head before kissing him.
“You’re really good at that,” Stiles licked his lips as they parted. “I don’t know if I’m glad I didn’t know that until now or pissed because you didn’t kiss me before.”
“I already mentioned why I wasn’t doing this before,” Peter said, kissing him again. “I’ll gladly make up for lost time though. Do my penance, if you will.”
“Like six hail marys and four our fathers?” Stiles moaned as Peter turned his attention to Stiles’ jaw and then his neck. “Only instead, I’ll get x amount of orgasms and — fuck me,” He trailed off when Peter began to suck a considerable mark on the side of his neck just below his ear.
When Peter finally sat back and looked down at Stiles, who was as sprawled as possible in the passenger seat, he felt the alpha in him, wolf and man both, fill with smug satisfaction at the sight before them.
“Aren’t you lovely,” He said, trailing fingers down Stiles’ flushed cheeks as he blinked lazily at him. “You look positively ruined darling.”
“Just wait,” Stiles said, but he wasn’t making any attempt to move. “I’ll get you back.”
“I will await your revenge eagerly my dear,” Peter said with a smile, helping to get Stiles’s seatbelt back on. He clicked his on before starting the car and getting back on the highway to head home.
Peter drove, reaching over only to flick the radio on for some music as Stiles began to drop back into a drowsy sleep brought on as he came down from their earlier activities.
He hadn’t known what to think when he’d suddenly appeared in this much younger body here, some eighteen years in the past. He’d felt what could only be described as the soul of his younger self, meld with the soul of the self that had died in that basement. He was no longer twenty-eight-year-old Peter Hale left hand of Alpha Talia Hale. Yet, he wasn’t the broken down burned beta, omega, alpha he’d cycled through in the future either.
He was now Peter Hale, a twenty-eight-year-old Alpha, somehow a true alpha. That was a hilarious irony after the clusterfuck that Beacon Hills and Scott had turned into at the end. He wasn’t one or the other but a blend of both. He’d been better at the end, in what Stiles called the future’s past, but he’d still been suffering from bonds that had been ripped and shredded, from the torturous healing he’d been through after the fire and then that damnable ritual his insane mind had thought was a good idea when he’d come back from the dead.
Now he was without that taint. He still had a shadow over him, but he’d been born with the shadow on his soul, according to his grandmother. It’s why he’d been chosen as the next left hand before he’d even been out of the nursery. But the taint, the thick tarry taint of evil that had stained everything that he’d touched since the fire, no matter his intentions, that was gone.
Peter didn’t know why he’d been brought back with Stiles. He didn’t question why Stiles would be sent back to make things right, to correct mistakes. Peter wouldn’t deny that Stiles was just as ruthless and cold as he was when it came down to it, but Stiles was also someone who would, in the end, correct the mistakes, not just throw the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak.
If Stiles had to, he would work with Talia. He probably wouldn’t like it, Peter huffed at himself, trying to imagine that meeting if it had happened without him being here if Stiles had indeed come back in time alone.
“It would of been a fucking disaster,” He said under his breath, careful not to wake the man next to him.
Talia never liked what she couldn’t control or ignore. Stiles was neither. He would have worked with Talia because it was necessary, but Stiles would have hated her. Peter knew that Stiles didn’t have the best opinion of her as an alpha or mother from the stories that Derek, Cora, and others had told about Talia. Still, Stiles had kept most of his opinions to himself except to tell Peter once that he was surprised that he had survived so long with Talia. Stiles had never explained exactly what he’d meant; it might be time to ask him about that again.
Peter knew that he would be facing his own hurdles with his sister as the days went by, and he made no move to pass the spark to her or leave Beacon Hills but instead began to consolidate his territory and look for new pack members. He hadn’t asked Stiles, but he assumed the man would be his emissary. He made a mental note to ask him when they made it home.
He began to tap his fingers to the beat of the music coming from the radio as he drove, his mind making plans and discarding them. He wasn’t quite the genius that Stiles was, but he wasn’t far behind, and now that the miasma of whatever taint had taken hold after the fire was gone, he felt his mind bloom with possibilities again.
As much as he might dislike his sister and her self-righteous ways, he didn’t want to see her and his familial pack dead, and he especially didn’t want to see it doomed at the hand of hunters. So the Argents needed to be dealt with. Fortunately, they had come back soon enough that they should be able to set up things to move subtly and keep most eyes off them in the short term.
Peter glanced at Stiles sleeping, his neck bared and the mark he’d sucked on display. He felt his eyes flare briefly.
‘Mine,’ He thought. ‘This beautiful, troubled man is all mine. As long as he’ll let me keep him.’
He knew about Stiles’ mother and wondered if Stiles would want to interfere there. He’d do anything that the man wished to; he just wasn’t sure how good an idea it was. Not if Stiles truly wanted to keep his other self and Scott out of this world.
Peter pushed those thoughts away; it wasn’t worth dwelling on until he knew what Stiles wanted anyway.
He wondered which of his pack members were feeling the pull and how soon the first of them would be on his doorstep. He hoped it would be someone that he could accept. He frowned; that was something that wasn’t much talked about. Just because a pack member felt the pull to go another pack didn’t mean they had to or that the other pack would be the best fit for them, only that the magic that made up the pack bonds thought that they were more compatible.
Usually, the bond magic was correct, but not always. Sometimes a pack member would show up to the alpha and would be turned away because the alpha would deny them. Peter could think of a few pack members that he would turn away without even scenting. Then there were the political tricky members. Peter was reasonably positive that Cora was going to end up in his pack at some point, he didn’t know why he was so sure, but he knew that it was going to lead to, at the very least, a huge blow-up between his pack and Talia.
He was almost looking forward to it. It would make for an entertaining week, he was sure. Stiles would probably kill him, though, so he should probably have some plans in place to mitigate it if it should happen.
He thought about what needed to be done with the Nemeton. Stiles had cleansed it, he said. Peter had to wonder if that would be all there was to that. He didn’t think so, not after what had happened when Stiles’ bare feet had touched the ground today.
Peter would make sure that Stiles put up some extra wards at the Nemeton, there was no reason to make the tree any more vulnerable than it needed to be, and he didn’t trust that Talia wouldn’t do something to it ‘for the good of them all and end up dooming everyone. He didn’t trust Deaton either; that man didn’t need to have his sticky fingers in anything more than he already did.
Peter glanced over at Stiles, who was looking at him with sleepy eyes, “Yes dear heart?”
“Where are we going?”
“Home sweetheart,” Peter huffed a laugh, “You need some food and a nap I think.”
“Yeah, yep,” Stiles yawned and stretched. “That sounds good. Thanks.”
“Any time darling,” Peter said, and unable to resist, he reached over and ran a hand over the man’s hair to his neck, giving his squeeze before releasing him and then taking his hand and holding it.
“You’re really sweet, you know that?” Stiles said with a smirk.
“Nobody can know,” Peter said with false sternness.
“Of course not,” Stiles nodded. “Your reputation must be upheld.”
“You understand,” Peter said, stifling a smile at Stiles’ laugh. “Good.”
“Of course I do, “ Stiles gave a false simpering look. “I adore you Petey.”
Stiles huffed, “You ruin all my fun.”
“Do I look like I’ve ever allowed anyone to call me Petey in my life?”
Peter watched Stiles squint at him out of the corner of his eye.
“No, I can’t say that you look like that was ever an option.”
“Because it wasn’t,” Peter said decisively. “Now, we need to stop and get you some clothes. I was going to put it off until tomorrow because of how tired you were, but you seem to be catching a second wind there.”
“Yeah, clothes and things would be good.” Stiles sat up, scrubbing both hands over his face and through his hair. “All the things, plus you said you needed some groceries didn’t you.”
“We’ll be fine for a few days, but yes, I do need to stock up,” Peter agreed; he glanced over at Stiles before deciding to talk about some of what he’d been thinking about. “We won’t have much longer before we need to move, the longer we wait…”
“We’ll lose whatever advantage we might have,” Stiles finished. “So I really need to get back out to the Nemeton this evening.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Peter sighed. “I wish we had time to really catch our breath, and we might, but..”
“It’s not worth the risk, not yet,” Stiles agreed, looking tired again. “Let’s get the shopping done so that it won’t distract us later.”
“Whatever you want darling,” Peter said, taking the exit toward the shopping center.
Peter felt Stiles’ hand slip along his leg, those long fingers skimming over the inner seam of his slacks. “There are a great many things I want Peter, somehow I think some of them will have to wait until later though.”
“You, sweetheart are a tease,” Peter responded with a shiver. “A delightful one, but a tease all the same.”
“I’ll make it up to you,” Stiles smiled as his fingers continued to skim along the seam of Peter’s slacks.
“You’ll drive me to blowjobs in the fitting room is what you’ll do,” Peter said, not at all upset about the prospect.
Stiles threw his head back, filling the car with the sound of his laughter. Peter was grateful that he’d come back with Stiles. While he didn’t know why he’d been brought back, he’d do everything to make sure that they were successful in their endeavors.
He thought about the spirals of self-hate and recrimination that Stiles would go through, and he was suddenly very glad that whatever force had sent them back together had made the decision not to send Stiles back alone.
He pulled into the shopping complex and found a parking spot quickly enough. “Electronics and then clothing. You need a phone, no matter how backward you think the technology of this time period is.”
“I figured, probably what passes for a laptop or tablet too,” Stiles said getting out of the car stretching. His shirt lifted as he leaned back, showing off just enough skin to draw Peter’s eye, showing him the slight discoloration that had been left by either his mouth or fingers at the edge of Stiles’ hip and felt his mouth begin to water. “See something you like, alpha?”
Peter looked up and saw that Stiles was smirking at him while also keeping an eye out around them. That was when Peter realized that his eyes were flaring red. He squeezed them shut.
“I didn’t even notice,” He murmured when he felt Stiles come up next to him. “I need to take some time and make sure I have my abilities completely under control before I have Talia in my face.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Stiles said.
Peter felt Stiles cup his face, and he opened his eyes to meet Stiles’ gaze. “This seemed a lot easier last night.”
“We had sex and slept last night,” Stiles said laughing, resting his head against Peter’s. “You’re right, it was definitely easier. At least we were.”
Peter huffed a laugh, “This isn’t going to be easy, but I don’t believe it’s going to be as difficult as our future past experience would try and tell us it could be.”
“You are lucky that I understand what you’re trying to say,” Stiles said, leaning forward and brushing his lips over Peter’s in a gentle kiss. “Let’s get this show on the road, apparently we have things to take care of after this.”
“After you, sweetheart,” Peter said, straightening up. He placed his hand at the small of Stiles’ back, and they began their trip into the complex.
Peter managed to secure Stiles a phone and a laptop in less than an hour. He added Stiles to his account, and they headed towards the clothing shops.
“A flip phone Peter,” Stiles said. “My soul hurts, I think my fingers might actually be burning right now.”
“I’m sure you’ll survive it,” Peter said with no sympathy in his voice. “Let’s go, you need some clothes, darling, no matter how much I’d like to keep you naked in my bed.”
“We definitely wouldn’t get anything on our to-do list done,” Stiles laughed, head thrown back, throat on display.
“Hmm,” Peter directed him into the store with the slightest pressure on his back. “It’s still a lovely image.”
“Only if you’re naked with me,” Stiles said, finally shoving his phone into a pocket. He’d figure out the intricacies of it when they got back to Peter’s place. “Are you going to be able to keep your house?”
Peter paused beside the rack of shirts he’d begun to peruse, “Excuse me?”
“You said that you’d be getting territory in Beacon Hills and the preserve,” Stiles said and waited for Peter’s nod. “Aren’t you going to need a bigger house for your pack though.”
“Ah,” Peter smiled, turning to Stiles. “I could have a pack house of course, I would probably build it near my current home if that is what my pack needs. I’ve always been partial to the community home structure though.”
“What exactly is that?” Stiles asked, tilting his head and squinting at Peter.
“What Talia has in Beacon Hills is fine currently, because the largest part of the pack is family and living in the house together is reasonable,” Peter grimace showed how reasonable he actually thought it was. “While our pack will start out with family most likely, we’ll be bringing in others, and they’d be happiest with their own spaces, while still remaining close to the heart of the pack. So, we’ll set up a community. Homes built for pack members on pack land, surrounding our home. I’ll have to see about permits and the legalities, but we won’t be the first pack to move in this direction in modern times.”
“That sounds good actually,” Stiles said as he grabbed a dozen shirts off the racks after checking the sizes. “I didn’t mind sharing a place with you and Derek back–well–before, but I don’t know how comfortable I would be with that right now.”
Peter reached over and pulled Stiles into his arms, “You are my priority right now Stiles. The rest of this is icing, but you’re the cake. You tell me if anything needs to be adjusted and we’ll figure it out.”
“You just want to eat me,” Stiles laughed, leaning up to kiss his wolf. “I do understand Peter, that there is a lot we need to take care of, but I’m not sure how much of my sanity I’m going to be able to hold on to after the immediate issues are taken care of. I’m going to need you and the nemeton to keep me grounded or I’m going to fly apart in more ways than one.”
“I’ll hold you together as long as you let me,” Peter said softly, returning the kiss and then nuzzling into his neck to breathe in the scent of cardamom and clove. “You can return the favor, I’m sure.”
“Of course,” Stiles murmured, letting himself enjoy the warmth of Peter for a moment before stepping back. “Now clothes, right. I need plenty of clothes that will take the wear and tear of the preserve so don’t get bent out of shape about my choices man.”
“Never,” Peter said with complete seriousness. “It won’t stop me from steering you towards the business wear though, we’ll have to meet with–well, you can wear what you want, but the options are there.”
“I’ll look,” Stiles acquiesced, smiling over his shoulder as he moved on to jeans. “Grab me some underwear, not the silk,” He added, remembering that the material felt a little too nice for everyday wear, and he didn’t need to walk around constantly hard at this point in his life.
“Boxer briefs?” Peter confirmed before he headed across the store, “I got you socks as well.”
“Thanks boo,” Stiles said, laughing when Peter grimaced at him shaking his head at Stiles.
Stiles looked at the jeans and then down at himself, wondering. He grabbed a few pairs of jeans and headed to the dressing rooms; the pair he’ was currently wearing were loose on his hips. Stiles couldn’t remember the last time he’d done more than grabbing a pair of jeans while rushing out of a store between one emergency and another. He wasn’t even sure what size he wore anymore.
“Stiles,” Peter’s voice came from just outside the door; Stiles flicked the lock open, letting him in. “Well now, isn’t that a delicious image,” He said, his gaze sweeping over Stiles like a physical touch.
Stiles stood with the dark wash denim riding low on his hips; he’d taken his shirt off so he could check the fit better, and he’d yet to button the fly. He eyed Peter, “Don’t even think about it, I’m not having sex in a store dressing room Peter, I might not be a classy lady, but I’m classier than that.”
“Don’t sell yourself short sweetheart,” Peter drawled, flipping the lock behind him and tossing the pack of underwear onto the chair in the corner. “How am I supposed to resist you looking like that?”
“Close your eyes?” Stiles suggested dryly closing the fly of the jeans and turning to look himself over in the mirror.