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It Was All Peter's Fault

Summary:

Peter was to blame.

Obviously.

Like most things in life, Stiles had to be given the short straw, the difficult option. Okay, no, loving Peter Hale was nothing short of amazing, but the man was an asshole. He was manipulative, and conniving, and sometimes a plain douche. He also disgustingly possessive, over protective, overwhelmingly caring, incredibly gentle and kinda awesome. He was also sarcastic as shit, but so was Stiles.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Peter was to blame.

Obviously.

Like most things in life, Stiles had to be given the short straw, the difficult option. Okay, no, loving Peter Hale was nothing short of amazing, but the man was an asshole . He was manipulative, and conniving, and sometimes a plain douche. He also disgustingly possessive, over protective, overwhelmingly caring, incredibly gentle and kinda awesome. He was also sarcastic as shit, but so was Stiles.

The thing was, after dating for a year in secret Peter was getting … insecure. Stiles knew that, he knew how to read Peter, to hear the words the older man couldn't say. Petter hated hiding this. Not at first, it had been fun then. But now he was constantly worried Stiles didn't love him, not completely, and that tore at him. Stiles watched it tear at him and it broke the younger man's heart. Because he did love Peter, more than he has ever thought possibly and will always love him. He knew that Peter’s wolf-y instincts were tearing at him to mark Stiles, to claim him. Frankly, Stiles wanted the same thing. He wanted to wear the wolf’s shirts, let the wolf suck bruises into his skin and wear them proudly. Because he loved Peter, a lot .

But, Peter was seventeen years older and had a pretty dicey history. Two things Stiles never once cared about, but knew every one else would. There was also the fact that he was barely 19, meaning they'd gotten together when he was still 17, and although they waited (surprisingly to Peter’s insistence) until he was 18 to do anything below the waist, he knew the others wouldn't care. Maybe even wouldn’t believe them. The last thing he wanted was for his friends to insult Peter, to make the older wolf question their relationship.

Peter though, was a possessive werewolf who had told Stiles after their seventh date that ‘I'm planning to keep you forever. You're mine, Princess’ . So not being able to scent Stiles, not being able to openly mark him was killing the wolf, and it was worse than it ever used to be.

So yes, Peter was manipulative. They hadn't seen each other in two weeks and it was killing Stiles. He wanted warm cuddles, hard sex followed by shower sex, then more cuddles.

He was thinking about cuddles when he walked into the loft, a bit late for their Friday Night Pack Night as his cookies (Peter’s favourite, a way he could show his love without outing them) took longer than expected. Everyone was already in the kitchen, laughing and eating. Stiles dropped off his cookies, pressed a kiss to the girl's cheeks (and Derek’s, it made him make his ‘angry brows’) and noticed he couldn't find Peter. When he walked into the living room his heart actually stopped beating before jumping into overdrive, and Peter's head whipped up. It only made it worse.

He was wearing the sweater Stiles had given him for the 10 month Anniversary, (yes they were that disgusting couple that bought each other gifts all the time ) it was a soft, hand knit cardigan that was about two sizes too big for Peter (it was about four sizes too big for Stiles and felt like a warm hug whenever he wore it around Peter’s apartment). It was the softest thing Stiles had ever felt and was a deep grey. He even had the sleeves rolled arm to mid forearm, and fuck . Not only did it make Peter look fucking adorable , it also made him look sexy as hell. Stiles still wasn’t sure how the older wolf pulled it off. Peter was also wearing his glasses, the fucking glasses Stiles had bought him for sexual role playing when they had some Professor-and-Naughty-Student fun times. The frames were square, thick and black but made Peter's eyes look bigger, and Stiles had somehow talked him into wearing them during non-sexy times just because they made the older wolf look impossibly more handsome . Like, how even .The last thing Stiles noticed was Peter’s beard. The goatee was a good look for a while, then Stiles was more into clean shaven, but once Stiles saw Peter with even a sprinkling of facial hair he was done for. Now it was thick , and Stiles would bet Peter hadn't shaved since they last saw each other. It would be so soft and Stiles wanted to bury himself in it. And pet it. With his tongue.

When he finally met Peter’s eyes he saw the amused gleam and the bastard knew what he was doing to Stiles. Was enjoying it even. It took him about two minutes of staring before he decided what to do. He left. Practically ran out of the loft and placed a spell to keep the door locked before throwing up a silencing shield around the apartment. Then he called his dad.

“Hey son, you alright?” Johns asked, voice soft as ever.

“Would you be mad if I had been secretly dating a significantly older man for some time and we’re totally in love and he makes me really happy and treats me very well?” Stiles asked in a rush. Fuck.

“Do I know this man?”

“Oh yeah? Also, he’s a werewolf, and we’re sort of … mated? So like, kinda werewolf married kinda thing, and like going to be together forever?” Stiles said as he winced. Nice one .

“Can I even say anything at this point?” John asked with a hint of disappointment.

“I mean, I would really like your approval, since you two are the most important men in my life and I want you to accept him!”

“I don't believe I’d be thrilled. If it’s Peter Hale I’d be even less thrilled.” John said, sighing heavily, “But if he treats you right, what can I say?”

“Dad, he treats me like a princess!” Stiles laughed, so incredibly relieved in that moment.

“Well alright son, have him over for dinner tomorrow.”

“Love you dad!”

“Love you too son, see ya tomorrow.”

With a cry of relief Stiles slid his phone back into his pocket and reentered the loft. The pack was still crowding in the kitchen, having given Stiles no mind. Which, yeah - ouch. Peter looked over though, body tense like he wanted to come over but was holding himself back. He stepped forward, walking a little towards Peter before throwing his arms open. Peter just stared, confused but … hopeful?

“I told dad. We’re having dinner with him tomorrow!” Stiles laughed out, not overly loud but full of joy nonetheless.

“Really?” Peter breathed out, his face open and vulnerable.

“Yeah baby,” Stiles said, and no he was not crying, but then, Peter was a little too, “Fucking hug me you dick!”

Peter laughed, but complied with the request, holding Stiles tight and spinning him around their laughter twisting together loudly. Stiles didn't care that Peter's face was in his neck, that he was sucking a large hickey into the skin. Yeah, it was hot and felt nice, but he was too elated to get into it, and he knew what Peter was doing anyway. This wasn't about sex, this was about scenting and marking Peter as his . Stiles held on, feet still dangling above the floor as he carded his fingers through Peter's hair. When he was finally let down he leaned forward, pressing their lips together softly, both red eyed laughing.

Predictably, that's when shit broke out.

Scott came forward first, growling low in his throat and flashing his Alpha eyes. Derek was also growling, but he was still all human. Lydia just looked amused. She'd probably known, anyway.

“Uh, hey Scott can you back off a little?” Stiles said, looking at the alpha over Peter's shoulder, “Oh! I made your cookies!” Stiles announced, taking Peter's hand and dragging him into the kitchen where most of the pack were staring.

Peter grabbed one and moaned around the bite, “My favourite.”

“I know,” Stiles said leaning into him, “Let’s get plates I’m really hungry tonight.”

“Darling boy, did you forget to eat, again ?” Peter asked, glaring hard at Stiles who shrugged. “We’ve talked about this, Princess.”

“Oh my god, fine!” Stiles said, taking the full plate Peter was handing him with a pout. He moved back into the living and claimed the love seat, hoping to cuddle, but he looked up when he noticed his boyfriend wasn’t trailing behind him.

Instead he was being shoved up against a wall, Scott’s hand around his throat. Stiles was there in a moment, touching Scott’s hand before he wrenched it back and roared with pain, “If any of you threaten my mate again, I will kill you.” Peter slumped against him, resting most of his body weight on Stiles who turned so he could press closer, keeping Peter upright as he breathed in deeply. “Guess we’re leaving.”

With a ‘pop’ and a flash of white light they were gone

 

John was a pretty understanding man. First werewolves, then his son's magic, now his son was dating a man nearly twice his age. So when said man and his son appeared in this middle of his living he just shrugged. Then he noticed how Peter was crying, gripping Stiles like he couldn’t let go.

“Did you mean it?” Peter asked. He sounded so broken.

“Of course,” Stiles said, kissing the wolf's face everywhere he could, “You’re mine, my wolf, my mate.”

Peter growled, eyes flashing blue. Peter looked over at John and said, “Sir, may I have permission to ask your son to marry me?”

John just shrugged again and nodded, because this was way out of his depth. Then Stiles lifted a hand and presented his right wrist as Peter did the same, and before John knew what was happening they were biting into each other. And wow, okay. John could feel the air still and settle heavy into the room until both men pulled back and fucking beamed at each other.

“Mine,” His son said,

“Mine.” Peter agreed.

What the hell, John thought.

Notes:

I LOVE HOW THIS ONE ENDS!!!! SO FUCKING MUCH!!!

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