Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/530987.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Peter_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale
  Additional Tags:
      AU, Light_Bondage, Light_Dom/sub, Mates, Stiles_is_Derek's_mate, and
      everything_starts_out_absolutely_not_as_it_was_supposed_to, because
      trying_to_take_things_is_even_better_when_you_know_others_want_them_as
      well
  Series:
      Part 1 of Closer
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-10-07 Completed: 2012-10-11 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 10614
****** Desecration ******
by Beliar, Vearth
Summary
     Ever since Stiles threw himself to his knees before him and begged
     for the life of another person Peter had been thinking about him and
     all the other things he could beg for. It's just a small additional
     incentive that he knows Derek had wanted him, might even have found
     his mate in him. His nephew was just too slow to decide if he could
     risk getting close to someone again and Peter was nobody who wasted
     an opportunity when it arose.
     He knows he is provoking a catastrophe and he loves it.
Notes
     AU → Peter didn't get killed, because Derek didn't turn on him for
     killing his sister. Peter could convince him that he was out of his
     mind when doing it and not capable of rational thought. Therefore
     Peter stayed the alpha of the pack, leading it now, having Derek
     integrated in it.
     This series will have Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski as a topic and deal
     with them being mates and trying to solve the situation this first
     part of the series gets them into.
     This can be read as a standalone story.
     My co-author will be Vearth. We will take turns on writing the parts
     to this story. This part was written by me, the next one will be
     written by Vearth.
     Spoilers: Things Vearth and I have in common (amongst other things):
     We like Sterek and happy endings.
***** Yes or no? *****
Stiles couldn't move. At least not in a way that was helpful even in the
slightest. He swallowed hard and tried to move anyway, just to obtain physical
proof that it was, in fact, a lost cause.
Long, strong fingers were curled firmly around his biceps on both sides. He
could feel every single digit pressing against him, being almost painful even
through three layers of clothing, one of those his jacket.
His back was pressed flush against a wall. The cold stone of it was a harsh
contrast to the warmth emanating from the body directly in front of him, only
inches away from his own. Perhaps he could have bowed his back to get away from
the wall a little, but that would have meant to get closer to the person in
front of him and he wasn't yet sure what he would appreciate more.
“Don't move I said.” Every word was stressed, drawn out and filled with utter
demand for obedience. There was no room for dissent, no room for questions left
by this order.
At least in theory.
Stiles always had a hard time obeying to others, sometimes even if he really
tried.
Hearing the danger thick in the other man's voice, seeing the menacing spark in
his eyes and feeling the tight grasp of the werewolf's hands everybody else
might have decided it wasn't a good idea to even try to do anything at all that
would potentially displease him. Stiles however sure wasn't everybody.
“I wasn't... I just wanted to... you know, blood circulation...” Stiles pulled
a face, shook his head and tried to shrug, but didn't manage with Peter's hands
still holding his arms. Instead the attempt triggered a low and dark growl from
the alpha, his eyes glistening red for a moment. Stiles breath hitched, while
paralysis took hold of his body. His eyes widened slightly while he kept them
fixed on the other man's face.
Peter's eyes darkened while he bowed his head forward a little, his fingers
pressing even harder against Stiles' arms, as he moved closer just a little. It
would have been imperceptible if he hadn't been that close already.
Stiles thought he could actually feel the other man's body almost touching his
own now.
“I like that... blood circulation thing... it makes everything easier and more
fun.” The teenager's voice broke a little and got higher while he talked.
It wasn't even terror he felt, although he was pretty sure it should have been.
He didn't want to back down and just give in, even if he knew, ultimately he
was in no position to get the upper hand in this.
He naturally was afraid and unsure of what would happen. He couldn't predict
anything with the other man what made this situation only more complicated. But
he was no coward. In a way it was even easier to know beforehand that there was
no chance of winning or taking over the wheel.
“Shut up, Stiles.” Peter had a way of managing to sound light and playful while
being intimidating in the same moment. And it wasn't their stance, wasn't the
cold wall behind him or his inability to move. It was only that voice. Maybe
the werewolf could have made him stop any movement just with using this tone on
him.
At least for a second, before he forgot he didn't want to move anymore.
There was a moment in which none of them moved and Stiles even forgot he needs
to breath.
Peter was the one who started moving again, slowly, just like the dangerous
predator he was. His eyes slit from Stiles' face down to his throat while he
leaned in closer and now he was pressing up against him.
Slowly Stiles could feel their bodies beginning to touch from his legs to their
chests, one of the werewolf's legs sliding in between his own, his hands still
a constant presence on the teenager's arms.
Stiles swallowed hard and put his head back against the wall, fixating a point
over the werewolf's shoulder, staring into the night. His heart was racing and
he knew the other man could hear it, but it wasn't as if he could change that.
He clenched his hands to fists, pressing them against the cold stone behind
him.
Peter was moving his head in and Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, not sure if he
should expect to be killed, bitten or something else entirely. Something else
entirely was definitely the most desirable option right now.
It sure wasn't right to find this kind of interesting, was it? He should be
scared and fear the worst, but truth was, that there was more than a small part
very occupied by thinking about what might happen and being curious about it.
Not every option he could think of was bad, because obviously he couldn't just
lose hope that this wouldn't be the end of his – much too short – life.
The werewolf's mouth came nearer until he could feel his breath hot against the
skin on his neck. “You can have so many things from me, you know? And I don't
ask much in return.”
There was something in these words that made his interest peak. Peter had a way
of laying so much emotion and hidden meaning into the things he said it was
outright fascinating.
“I don't think that is entirely true, I mean you're pretty demandi –“ The
answer got cut off, not by words but a gesture. Peter lifted his head to look
at him again.
Stiles couldn't see the movement with his eyes still closed, but he could feel
it. Every single motion, no matter how small, every little shift – he could
feel it, with the other man plastered against him. It shouldn't have been
thrilling and it shouldn't have been arousing.
It was though and he wasn't yet sure if it was disturbing him or not.
The imminent danger of the situation, the intimacy of the nonexistent distance
between them, the silent promise of giving so many things if he was willing to
take them and give something back, it all added up to anticipation of something
that might not be that bad.
Stiles opened his eyes again, staring at Peter, his mouth still hanging open
because he hadn't closed it again after he had been interrupted while talking.
There was something in the werewolf's eyes he hadn't noticed before. Maybe it
hadn't been there or he just didn't have the right state of mind to actually
get it.
He got looked at like the alpha wanted to own him and Stiles couldn't find it
in him to hate it. He wasn't one to not challenge others, to obey without
question or even let himself get ordered around and still he couldn't even so
much as not like that look.
The younger man turned his head a little and was ready to say something about
that he was not for dinner tonight, when Peter beat him to it.
“You want to find out how demanding I am?” The werewolf grinned, all teeth and
clearly pleased with the situation. He was finally getting to the point and he
saw that Stiles might be on his best way to see what that point was.
The alpha leaned in again, this time getting his mouth closer to Stiles' lips.
Stiles tensed and now he really didn't dare to move anymore. The weight of the
older man pressed his whole body hard against the wall, the entire situation
causing him to shiver slightly. It was a strange feeling of being trapped and
completely at the mercy of another person, yet not willing to surrender and
actually enjoying it. Maybe he was even enjoying it too much, because he was
sure, the way they were standing, Peter could actually feel that particular
fact by now.
He was nervous and of course he knew what one could anticipate after this
gesture. He was pretty sure he knew what he was anticipating after this
gesture. The thing was just, that he couldn't believe it was happening. Now. In
real life. To him.
“You think you can meet my demands?” The words were whispered against Stiles'
lips and while he still was trying to figure out what was happening or how to
respond to this in an appropriate manner the werewolf closed the last tiny bit
of distance between them and their lips met.
It wasn't slow, nice or careful. It was hard and demanding, as if to underline
the words that just had been said. Stiles could feel his head being pressed
against the wall, a hand coming up to his cheek to hold him. Peter's fingers
pressed hard against his skin, almost causing pain and leaving him no room to
move.
It felt like they spent hours like that, Peter pushing his tongue into Stiles'
mouth, causing the other man to moan, still holding him as good as he could
manage. Stiles hadn't even tried to struggle though, being completely lost in
their kiss.
When he finally pulled back they were both panting. Still the alpha managed to
sound as dominant and sure of himself as before. “Come with me.”
There was no question, it was a simple order, but still Stiles knew this was
his chance to bail out. His last chance maybe. He didn't want to.
“Okay. Yes. Yes!” He sounded excited and eager and Peter loved it. A smile
spread on his face, something mischievous in it as well as looking utterly
pleased. He nodded before he let go of Stiles, backing away from him, while
curling his fingers into the fabric of his jacket. He tugged hard enough that
Stiles nearly stumbled before he could follow.
***** My house, my rules. *****
Stiles didn't think about where they were headed until Peter practically shoved
him into his car and started driving towards the old house of the Hale family.
That was his home again after he left hospital and the teenager knew that.
Knowing and realizing weren't always one and the same with him though.
In the quiet that spread between them during the ride, however, realization
sank in and it made him a little nervous thinking about the old, burnt house
that lay mostly in ruins.
He started fidgeting his legs and squirming in his seat after a while, unable
to sit still with all the excitement and anticipation that filled him. His
thoughts were racing around all the possible things that could be coming once
they reached their destination. During that he found himself in a strange pull
between wanting this drive to be over immediately because he was anxious and
wanting it to last longer at the same time because he was nervous about what
would happen.
The problem with that was that he couldn't see through the other man, couldn't
predict his actions, and somehow he was pretty sure that would never change.
Maybe he didn't even want it to change. Maybe he enjoyed it like it was and
maybe that line of thought was enough to irritate him.
Somewhere along the road, while Stiles was talking about the forest they passed
and about some random adventures he had in them, Peter suddenly stretched out
his hand and pressed it against his chest to push him back into his seat
effortlessly.
The younger man stilled instantly, looked down slowly and over to the werewolf
who focused on the road while telling him not to fidget anymore if he wanted to
stay in the car. Stiles tried, but it took only two minutes until he was doing
it again. Luckily it only took three minutes and one growled order to stop it
until they arrived at their destination.
Anticipation turned to outright nervousness once he realized this all was real
and he was about to follow the alpha into his house to do something he had
never done before. Not that Stiles hadn't had enough fantasies about sex and
theoretical knowledge, but what was that worth? It sure wouldn't be like he had
always pictured it. Were there even beds in this place? Especially with someone
like Peter, who clearly knew what he was expecting out of this.
Peter, since he wasn't Stiles, had planned this through and knew exactly why he
had decided to do this with him. He was just perfect.
It didn't need experience. Sometimes that was even hampering. The younger man's
attitude, the resistance, his courage, his eagerness and not to forget his
looks all added up to exactly what the werewolf wanted and needed to have.
There were so many things he could show him and he had a feeling Stiles would
want to see them, would listen and enjoy it just as much as him. He wanted them
to be perfect together and he believed that they could be, given the right
amount of time and devotion.
“Follow me.” The older man's voice reached the other over the hood of the car,
pulling him away from his thoughts and back into reality. Stiles found himself
obeying in an instant and without thinking, his legs moved before he could even
nod in acceptance. “Right. Going inside. Good plan.”
Stiles stumbled over his own feet and held his hand out to steady himself on
the car. Peter, who hadn't fully turned around yet, focused immediately on the
point where the other man's hand met with his car, disapproval clear in his
eyes.
Stiles caught it, mostly because Peter didn't even try to hide it, and pulled
his hand away quickly, laughing a little awkwardly. “Nothing happened.” He
raised his hands, palms pointing towards the other man. “Not doing that again,
right?”
“No. You're not.” There was a silent threat in his words, mainly carried
through the way he pronounced and stressed the words, leaving a small pause
after saying no. There was no other option, no other reality than the one that
Peter had just drawn out and if anything would disturb it, there would be
consequences. He managed to lay all that in this simple statement.
The werewolf turned, walking towards the house, while Stiles suddenly realized
he had to follow. He hurried to keep up and get behind him again. His eyes flew
over the old structure's features in a hurry, before they returned to the man
that brought him here.
Peter was insanely attractive. Maybe that was a family trait. At least among
the two survivors he had met it definitely was.
The fact that he was outright staring, his mouth hanging open and lost in
thoughts about the things he saw, got caught when the werewolf looked over his
shoulder. A grin crawled up onto Peter's face slowly, while he listened to the
fast beat of Stiles' heart.
The expression on his face looked dangerous and it caused the teenager not only
to blush, but to feel arousal filling him again in just an instant. It should
have been strange how little it took the werewolf to cause this. The tone of
his voice, the dark look in his eyes, or the slightest gesture, heavy with
meaning, and Stiles was lost with desire crawling up and take over his
thoughts.
The door was unlocked, as it always seemed to be. There was nothing to steal
here and everybody who tried would sure regret it anyway. Peter didn't hesitate
to go in and as nervous and jittery as Stiles was, he didn't either.
He didn't even think about hesitation yet, even if he was overwhelmed by the
situation.
Only two steps later he ran straight into Peter, letting out a huff of air,
stumbling a step back and apologizing quickly. He rubbed his neck while looking
irritatedly for a reason this had happened. The werewolf hadn't turned around,
he just had stopped and stared into the darkness through a door next to the
stairs.
Peter huffed amused and turned shortly to look at Stiles who just looked even
more irritated by that reaction. He frowned and shook his head, getting nothing
in return that would have explained him what was going on.
His irritation stayed, because he wasn't the one who could see or hear Derek,
who lingered in the shadows behind the door, watching them in silence as they
passed. And he couldn't basically feel the disapproval that the other werewolf
seemed to be filled up with either.
“Come. We are going upstairs.” Peter sounded sure and commanding, like a lot of
times before, but the amusement he felt about his nephew watching them in
silent fuming found it's way into his words. He said them pointedly, sharp and
loud, to give them even more weight then they had already.
“Don't disturb us.” The words were directed to the darkness even if Stiles
needed another second before realization dawned and he finally got there had to
have been someone. Someone who could only be Derek, as he very well knew.
Peter started walking again, his steps determined and sure and Stiles followed
after a moment's hesitation. He was excited out of his mind and filled with
anticipation. His steps were hastily and erratic.
At the top of the stairs Peter turned left, grabbed at Stiles' jacket and
dragged him along into a small room.
Stiles eyed the room into which he had literally been thrown after stumbling
two steps into it. Peter's hands were gone from his jacket and the teenager
could hear the loud crack of the door behind him as it closed.
Everywhere were visible traces of the fire that had raged here, even on the
only part of furniture, but all in all it didn't look as bad as he had thought
it might. It took Stiles a moment to process that this only part of furniture
left in the room was a table.
Not even a particular comfy one – not that he normally rated tables by how
comfy they were or could actually tell that from looking at them. He just
couldn't imagine it to be. It was old and dark, little burnt spots where fire
tried to consume it, but still looking a lot better than most of the things in
this house. His breath hitched before he turned around again.
“Here?” His voice was filled with the insecurity he suddenly felt about not
knowing what to do or think.
“Yes, here.” Peter pushed the door closed all the way, startling the other with
the loud bang it caused.
Stiles still stood with his back to the alpha, letting his eyes roam the place,
again and again falling back to the table, while trying to breath as calmly as
possible. Peter heard the little irregularities in his breathing and how his
heart raced and he concentrated on the little jump it made as he suddenly
grabbed the teenager's jacket and pulled hard at it.
Stiles let out a surprised sound as he felt his clothing slip from his arms and
whirled around as soon as it was gone. He wasn't opposed to the fact that he
had taken it, he wasn't even opposed to the fact that Peter just let it slip
through his fingers and fall to the ground, but he was pretty sure he just had
lost around five years of his life due to that jump scare.
“Are you made of crazy? You can't just sneak up on me. Why do you werewolves
always have to do that? Is it a thing? Because I absolutely think it is a th –”
“Stiles.” Peter used a tone of voice that made the teenager instantly feel like
he had said something silly – what was probably true. It was dominant and like
you'd sound if you were about to instruct someone in something. “You knew I was
in this room. How can you startle from that?”
The werewolf cocked his head a little and shook it slowly, raising his eyebrows
just a fraction. Stiles felt like he should have been offended by that gesture,
but he wasn't. It had something fond to it that was outright irritating.
“You see...”, Stiles began before huffing out a nervous laugh. The alpha took
one of his hands up and pressed it flat to his chest. Peter's fingers were
spread wide, suddenly curling fast into the fabric of the shirt, holding him,
while simultaneously pushing him back and up against the wall behind him, using
more force than would have been necessary.
Stiles let out a huff of air and gasped as he couldn't breathe for the fraction
of a second. “Careful, I don't come with warranty.”, he swallowed hard before
continuing, “Not returnable. I mean exchangeable. Returning might actually
work.”
“I might have said that before, but... shut up, Stiles.” Peter smiled softly,
yet the teenager felt himself being threatened enough to shut up immediately
and nod frantically. He was nervous and there was just no point in hiding it.
He couldn't do that with normal human beings, how should he have done it with a
werewolf?
“Just for a moment.”, Peter still smiled, but his eyes wandered over Stiles
while his hand shifted slightly on his chest, his fingers still curled up in
his clothing. He stopped moving his eyes when he had reached his lips. “As I
suppose you can't hold back talking for long anyway.”
“I can be quiet!” Stiles blurted out in the worst defense mankind ever had come
across. His eyes widened a little and his shoulders sagged down a fraction when
he sighed about his own behavior.
Peter just smiled in triumph. He enjoyed this a lot and he wasn't ashamed of
admitting to that. “It's okay, Stiles. Because, in general, I really dont want
you to be quiet.” Peter leaned in closer. Stiles could feel his weight shift on
the hand that still was pressed to his chest, his knuckles almost uncomfortably
against it. His second arm came up and he braced himself with his forearm
against the wall next to Stiles' head.
Staring at him was all Stiles could do at the moment, while Peter enjoyed the
frantic pace his heartbeat had become. There was so much excitement inside the
teenager, the werewolf could almost taste it in what little air was left
between them. But besides the nervousness and the excitement there was also
something else he could almost taste on his tongue. Stiles was aroused, was
thrilled by the situation.
“I want to hear you. Make noises.” Peter grinned a slow and predatory smile
that made Stiles breath hitch. “A lot of them.”
Stiles expected many things right now and he wanted a lot of things. The
anticipation was almost killing him. But suddenly Peter was gone, leaning back
and taking both his arms away from him, leaving Stiles almost shivering at the
loss. He let out a long, silent sigh, watching the werewolf before him, trying
and failing to calm down.
Peter didn't even try to hide the smile on his face that was caused by the
delight over Stiles' reactions. “You have no idea how perfect this is.”
Stiles didn't know what to respond to that. What could one even respond to that
when the other person sounded as earnest as Peter just did? He meant it. He
really meant it and that was something Stiles was trying to fully grasp in that
moment.
But knowing Stiles one also had to know that not knowing how to respond hardly
ever held him from responding anyway. He gaped for a moment, clearly at a loss
of words, before he started – still at a loss of words. “I... me? What?
Perfect? I haven't done anything. I mean I can do anything. I mean something.
Something. Definitely someth –”
“Stiles. Just take it, believe it and shut up.”
Stiles didn't have much time to be disappointed over Peter's sudden retreat
that had preluded the exchange of words. The werewolf's fingers closed hard
around both his wrists and Stiles didn't resist when they were both brought up
and put over his head.
Stiles didn't move on his own, let the other just take over for a moment,
unsure where the trust came from that was necessary to do so. He concentrated
on breathing and not passing out from excitement and anticipation – he was
pretty it was possible that you could.
Fingers slipped over his skin and pressed his hands to the wall with just
enough force not to be too much. It was cold and a bit damp, once again
building a harsh contrast to the warmth of the other body and Stiles squirmed
shortly, trying to move his hands without effort.
The younger man swallowed hard as he felt one of the two hands come down along
his arm again. Peter was pressing hard against both his wrists and hadn't been
overly gentle so far, but now he was barely touching him, his fingertips moving
along and on down his side above his clothes and it nearly killed him. He
wanted to be touched more than this.
Stiles gasped as that gentle touch transformed into a hard grip, fingers
suddenly clutching tight around his hip, just to move on beneath his shirt and
onto his back a moment later. It wasn't tentative anymore. Peter's whole hand
pressed up hot against his skin, seeking as much contact as possible through
this gesture, forming a firm pressure against him. Stiles arched forward to
make room between himself and the wall, but it only resulted in Peter's hand
brushing over his skin hastily, landing on his stomach and pressing him back
hard.
Stiles gasped out, irritated and thrilled at this result in equal amounts. He
wasn't sure how it got him hard that Peter was just staring at him and touching
him only with his hands – on places that he didn't count as particularly
erogenous zones on top of that. Then again he was pretty sure Peter's voice,
the right choice of words and the right tone would have been able to do the
trick just as well.
“I'll let go of your hands now. Can you keep them up on your own?” Peter's
voice was a soft whisper. He was so close and Stiles wanted to touch him, had
tried by wiggling his fingers and trying to reach the other man's hand without
effort. He wasn't sure if it was encouragement that he should have taken out of
this question now or doubt that he would be able to meet this demand. He
doubted it himself, if he was completely honest with himself.
The teenager licked his lips slowly, flicking his tongue like he often did.
Peter's eyes followed the movement intrigued, grinning at the hesitation to
answer. Stiles was trying to figure out what this meant as fast as he could,
but pressure was never good on his bad ability to focus. So his problem was,
that he couldn't figure out what this would mean. Would anything happen? Was
that a question or an actual demand? Was it exciting and did he want to find
out? Stiles nodded fast. “Yes. Yes, I can do that. No problem doing that. At
all.”
Peter shook his head, smiling in a fond way that seemed new to Stiles. It
wasn't uncharacteristic, but it might have been the first time that the
teenager thought that smile didn't have something dangerous hidden in it – even
if this something was only hidden subtext or dearly appreciated, good kind of
danger.
“So. Don't move your hands down.” Peter's fingers were gone from Stiles' wrist
after this, his hand coming down quickly, not even bothering to wander across
his skin. He felt the rim of his shirt being lifted as the werewolf started to
take it off.
Stiles got nervous about the fact that he was going to be the first one getting
partially undressed while Peter even still was wearing everything he had worn
before, including his mantle. It wasn't that he was overly self-conscious – it
was just new. And a bit unjust. However, it was no bad kind of nervousness.
Maybe it was what people in show business called stage anxiety. Performance
anxiety. Nevertheless, he wanted it to happen and as strange it was that Peter
was still dressed as exciting was it.
Despite him not saying anything or moving at all, Peter stopped halfway up his
chest and looked up into his eyes. The werewolf could feel the nervousness, the
excitement emanating from him as clear as if he would have felt it himself and
he needed to know the nature of this feelings before he could decide what to
do. He let his fingers brush over skin, not moving the shirt up any more as he
did so.
Stiles shivered and swallowed hard, just looking back, asking himself what
Peter was waiting for, when he suddenly smiled and nodded his head.
Peter pulled Stiles shirt up all the way and over his arms quickly, discarding
it with just as much care as he had given his jacket. Stiles didn't find it in
him to care about that right now, though. As soon as his shirt was gone Peter's
lips were back on his and his hands were moving down his sides, stopping at his
hips, grabbing hard and pressing him against the wall once more. He hadn't even
realized there had still been space that allowed him to be pushed back. The
wooden structure pressed against his back, while Peter pressed against him and
he shuddered beneath him.
When Stiles had said he would keep his arms up he had really thought it
couldn't be that hard. Now his hands started to tingle during the minutes Peter
spent occupied kissing him, biting at his lip and pushing his tongue inside,
his fingers moving slightly on his hip, but his hands never letting go, keeping
him firmly in place. It was incredible. Not that Stiles had anything he could
compare this to. It was maybe a little sad to admit that this was the first
time he really kissed anyone, but this definitely counted amongst the things he
wasn't sad about right now.
As soon as the werewolf switched his activity to planting heavy kisses along
his jaw and down to his neck Stiles seemed eager to prove just how much he
could talk. He moaned and sighed, mixing in other noises of content and words
in between that echoed in Peter's ears. The werewolf was sure the walls of this
room wouldn't be able to contain the amount of noise that he would make Stiles
produce later and he loved it. He especially loved that this was his reaction
to just being kissed. Everything the werewolf did triggered a reaction, a
whispered oh god, encouragement or a silent do that again, please. And he did
that again, since Stiles asked so nicely and moaned so deliciously when he did.
Stiles hands had gotten heavy and tired during the minutes they were held up
while Peter made every effort to drive him crazy with his mouth and hands
alone. He was lost in the feeling of Peter's teeth, tongue and lips caressing
his skin, all promises and reassurances he could keep them up forgotten in this
moment.
The werewolf could actually feel the movement, the little shift in Stiles'
position, before he could feel arms landing on his shoulders, hands on the
thick fabric of the mantle lying on his back.
“Stiles.” Peter had stopped kissing him, his hands suddenly still on the other
man's hips, but he hadn't moved away. Stiles couldn't say that he wasn't used
to hearing his name uttered admonishingly and sharp like this, but it still
made him still as well, a warm rush of nervousness filling his system in a
quick sweep. His eyes widened a little while his brain caught up with providing
possible reasons for this happening. He could hear his own erratic, excited
breath in the silence that filled the air between them.
“Your hands.” Right. His hands would be one of those possible reasons. Peter
sounded almost playful, his breath tickling the skin on the other man's neck
lightly, his eyes watching as Stiles swallowed thickly. “Oh, crap. Sorry. I
didn't mean to...”
Stiles got his arms back up as fast as he could, resting them lightly against
the wall.
“Can't I trust you to make it? To not touch me until I tell you?” Peter's voice
was dark, not threatening, but with the hint of something Stiles couldn't
exactly grasp. It was the other's enjoyment over the situation, the outright
excitement he felt that flowed into his voice. It wasn't just what they were
doing or about to do, but the possibility of failure and maybe repercussion. He
wanted repercussions and he had a feeling no matter how frantically Stiles
nodded and told him he would, there still could be. They would be having so
much fun.
Stiles sighed in relief, tension he hadn't realized was there draining from his
body, as he felt Peter's lips on his neck again. Darting his tongue out he
slowly licked down to his throat, nudging his head back by pushing at his chin.
Stiles swallowed hard, looking up at the ceiling above, excitement flooding him
in waves. Peter licked up his whole throat, drawing out a long and soft moan.
Stiles closed his eyes, pushing his head back even further, lost in the
feeling, when Peter's mouth landed on a spot low and near his neck. The
werewolf started to alternate between sucking, licking and kissing, making
Stiles' breath hitch every time he did.
It was a thing of beauty to listen to the teenager's heartbeat, his breathing
and to smell his arousal and excitement. Peter was completely lost in the
sensation all of this caused when he placed his teeth on the skin beneath him
and bit down lightly. A moan transformed into a loud gasp as Stiles took down
his arms once more, clutching his fingers into Peter's hair.
The werewolf stilled once more. Stiles blinked his eyes open, his heartbeat
quickening even more. It took him only a second to realize where his hands
were. He let go and pulled them back up in a hectic motion that lacked
gracefulness.
A low growl escaped Peter's lips while his eyes darkened. Stiles stop breathing
for an instant, thinking about how wrong it was to find this thrilling. He felt
his blood run cold, anticipating what would happen now after the other had
produced a tone that couldn't have been coming from a human. “Obviously, you
aren't capable of doing what I wanted you to do.” Stiles shuddered. He
shuddered from the other man's voice alone and suddenly Peter was gone. His
hands, his mouth, his body, his warmth. All gone.
Stiles suddenly felt cold. Slowly letting his arms sink again he followed Peter
with his eyes. The werewolf walked towards the table with collected, calculated
calm as if they hadn't been making out for minutes just now. He seemed just so
in control – what probably only was the general state he seemed to be in, to be
fair. The only thing that actually gave away that he wasn't oblivious to
everything was that his pants obviously weren't made to hide his erection.
Not that Stiles spent too much time looking at that particular area. A bit
embarrassed about the fact that his eyes even had been lingering there he
looked back at the table. It had been long enough, though, for Peter to catch
him doing it. The werewolf wasn't easy to embarrass, especially not with things
like that, but he dearly appreciated how Stiles' cheeks changed color just a
bit – it was nearly imperceptible.
A slow smile spread on Peter's face, while he got out of his mantle and folded
it, putting it down onto the table slowly. He acted as if he had all the time
in this world, as if he wasn't dying to touch the other again, and Stiles
wanted to scream in frustration about that and about the fact that he didn't
say anything. “I didn't think it was that bad, was it? The hands... I mean, I
can try again? Once more?”
“That won't be necessary.” Peter only smirked, his expression changing to
amused while he bend down to take something up from the ground next to the
table. Stiles watched in fascination how his shirt tightened over his back,
wishing he would just come back and not leave him hanging like this. Of all the
things that had been done to him, all the things that left him clueless, this
must have been the worst so far. He was clueless and in dire need of being
touched.
“What do you mean not necessa... oh.” Stiles eyes widened, his mouth hanging
open in a rather unflattering display of irritation. “What exactly are you
planning to do?” He outright stared at the thick rope Peter was holding and
wrapping around his own hands playfully while walking back towards the
teenager. Peter's muscles clenched as he tugged the rope around his own wrist
as if to test it. “Because I'm almost a hundred percent positive of the fact
that you can't keep my arms up with that.” Stiles swallowed thickly. Peter
closed his eyes for a moment, listening in on all the little signs Stiles body
gave away about his current state. Arousal always had been almost effortlessly
perceivable for him, when it wasn't just a shallow, sudden feeling that was
gone as fast as it came. Every strong emotion always was for him. Anger,
euphoria, depression, sexual desire.
Peter didn't answer. Instead he walked up to Stiles and stopped right in front
of him. He let his eyes sweep over the other man's body, just lingering a
little longer at the bulge in his pants, mimicking the other's behavior, before
he looked him in the eye again. “Turn around.”
Stiles was confused, but found himself obeying the command with only a little
hesitation. “What are you doing?” His voice got a little higher to the end of
the question, breath coming out in agitated pants. It was mainly excited
curiosity that was transported, what was all the validation Peter needed before
grabbing Stiles' hands and pulling them onto his back roughly.
“What do you think I'm doing?” Rope was circled around his wrists almost
carefully. Peter leaned in close until his mouth was only inches away from
Stiles' ear. A pull at the rope made the teenager hiss and tense shortly. “If
you can't refrain from touching me, I will make sure you can't.” Another pull
as Peter began tying him and making sure he wouldn't just get his hands out
again, while having enough room left for this to not be hurtful. His fingers
pushed in between rope and skin a bit, then he was gone again.
Stiles just stared at the wall in front of him, not moving at all, until he
felt his hands being released and coming to rest above his ass. He might have
considered being embarrassed if he had thought of the fact that Peter could
easily feel his arousal spike at the words that were uttered and the things
that had been done.
Stiles only waited the fraction of a second before testing his ties by moving
and twisting his wrist. The rope felt rough and hard against his skin, but it
was just a little inconvenience so far. The worst thing was that he, now that
he couldn't anymore, really wanted to move his hands badly.
The main thing he acknowledged to himself, however, was that it was hot. He
wouldn't have imagined himself being in this position and he had never even
wasted a thought about games like this and now he knew he really should have.
This would have made for some pretty nice fantasies. This would make for some
pretty nice fantasies. And maybe reruns. So far that wasn't a bad thought to
have.
“And now I am supposed to...” Stiles gasped in surprise as his words were cut
off by Peter leaning against him and pressing him into the wall with his whole
weight. The teenager just managed to turn his head to not actually face the
wall before he hit it.
“Now, you're supposed to not pull at your rope, or you'll just hurt yourself.”
Peter's whole body slowly pressed flush against his. Stiles could feel the
fabric of his shirt slowly settling onto his back, clinging to his slightly
sweaty skin, and more importantly he could feel he other man's cock pressing
hard against his long fingers.
Peter grinned, rocked his hip against the other man and bit down on his neck
using his human teeth, dragging them over his skin afterwards before pressing
his lips down and sucking at it. Biting was one of the things that made Stiles
nervous in a bad way. Not because he didn't like it – the few minutes this
lasted now he came to believe that he very well liked it very much – but
because of the fact that it was a werewolf. There was always relief washing
over him when he didn't feel fangs scraping at his skin.
It was a great feeling, though. The relief, followed by immediate pleasure that
burned hot in his system, maybe even hotter as if this moment of shock hadn't
been there to begin with.
“You can move your fingers, if you want to.” Peter's voice was quiet, a hint of
amusement staining the otherwise sensual hum his words had been. He grinned
against Stiles' skin, pressing his hips against him slowly, rolling them and
making the younger man gasp and his breath come out unsteady.
“Oh god...” Stiles drew the words out, licking his lips and not bothering to
close his mouth again after that. Peter licked at his neck, his tongue hot and
wet against him, before continuing to suck his skin, clearly leaving visible
marks all over him. Stiles started moving his fingers timidly, a slight tremor
in his motions giving away that he was too bashful to really comply to this
offer, while being too willing not to try.
“More.” A mere whisper against his skin, that was almost quiet enough that
Stiles asked himself if this word even really had been uttered or was just part
of his vivid imagination. Real or not, he tried to obey, moved his fingers with
more certainty and less hesitation.
Stiles wasn't even aware of the fact that, besides a change in his breathing
pattern, Peter hadn't given any audible evidence of pleasure so far. At least
not until now. The werewolf produced a sound next to his ear, that was half
moaning, half growling with pleasure and Stiles heart skipped a beat.
Goosebumps ran down his arms, pleasure flooding him just from hearing this and
knowing it was him who was responsible for this noise coming into existence.
Peter must have noticed, if the dark chuckle he heard was anything to go by.
“You liked that?” The smugness in the other man's voice was hard to miss. The
teenager nodded his head, a breathless “Yes.” accompanying the motion.
A second later Peter was gone again, his solid weight suddenly missing. The
loss made Stiles realize how hard he had been pressed against the wall. His
cheek felt like the wall's pattern had to be engraved on it.
There was a tug at the rope, sending a short flash of mild pain through his
arms and wrists. Stumbling back against Peter's chest he just leaned back and
rested his head on the other man's shoulder.
Broad hands came around him and settled on his chest, before moving down on it,
nails scraping over his skin lightly. It was a good feeling to be this enclosed
in Peter's embrace. Stiles hummed and sighed. The pleasure he felt caused him
to close his eyes and concentrate on just appreciating the touches he got.
His eyes opened again hastily, when he felt Peter's hands unzipping his pants
in a swift motion. He couldn't believe the other man was going to keep
undressing him without taking anything off of himself – and Stiles wasn't
willing to count Peter's mantle in on actual undressing.
Before he could think about if it was a good idea or not, his mouth had already
decided to just go with his first instinct. “Aren't you gonna...”, Stiles
breathed out shakily and wiggled his head a little from left to right before
continuing,“...undress something, too? Or maybe everything? Joining in on the
naked club?”
“You are far from naked. Too far.” Peter's hands stilled after opening Stiles'
trousers, only inches away from his cock, what made the younger man realize
that he hadn't actually been touched on this particular part of his body at
all.
“You want me to?” Peter smirked, pressing his hands onto his stomach and Stiles
against himself through this gesture. “Say please.” He stressed and draw the
last word, his voice quiet, but demanding.
Stiles shivered and had to take a moment to reenter the conversation after
imagining how it would be to feel Peter's hands on his cock. He wanted it and
when he answered he begged not only for what he actually asked for, but for so
much more. “Please?”
Peter let go of him, nudging him forward slightly, while urging him to turn
around with his hands on Stiles' shoulders. The teenager obliged, his eyes
following the movements of Peter's fingers as he started to unbutton his own
shirt.
Once he started he couldn't take his eyes off anymore, all possible thoughts he
might have had any other day about potential embarrassment cast aside. Button
after button more skin got visible and Stiles wanted to touch it. He wanted to
run his fingers over Peter just as much as he wanted to feel his fingers on
himself. Maybe even more, just because he was still incapable of doing so. He
moved his hands a bit in their cage made of rope and pulled a face at the
discomfort this caused.
Peter let his shirt slip from his shoulders by rolling them back and didn't
give it so much as a second look after it fell to the ground. It just got to be
one more discarded item of clothing.
“That's not everything.” Stiles heard himself say before he could even think
about how bad a thing to say this might be. Peter cocked his head and raised
his eyebrows. He didn't even need to say anything, because his face did that
part for him. “Really?” it silently asked.
“But it's a start! I'll take it.” Stiles nodded fast and started shaking his
head a little, stopping again as he started feeling ridiculous.
The werewolf grinned at him. “You really talk too much.” His voice was soft,
despite his words. It didn't feel like he meant it at all, what probably was
because he didn't. Peter enjoyed it too much to want him to stop. There lay so
much potential in Stiles' behavior.
Peter put his hand to the back of Stiles' neck and curled his fingers around
firmly, pressing against him hard. Before the other could even get used to the
solid weight against his skin it was gone again, pulling at his shoulder and
making him stumble forward and past the werewolf.
“To the table. Go.” Peter didn't touch him again and Stiles just walked over on
his own, trying hard not to lose his opened pants and looking over his shoulder
precariously while doing so. The other man followed him, what was reassuring
even if it didn't come as a surprise.
Once he reached the table Stiles was about to turn around again to face Peter,
but the other man's hands were already on the teenager's arms to stop him from
doing so. His fingers clenched hard around him, holding him firmly for a moment
and making him hiss.
One of the hands holding Stiles slipped to his back, not far beneath his neck,
the other was placed on his hip. Without hesitation Peter pushed him forward
and pressed against his upper body, so that Stiles found himself bend over and
up close with the table, his cheek pressed to the next solid wooden object.
Stiles actually thought he could hear his own heartbeat in this moment. Or
maybe it was just his blood rushing through his veins. The frantic, excited
pace his heart had adapted to sure made it run faster through his system.
Peter smiled down at him, while Stiles tried to glance back without moving his
head. “Don't move up.”, he ordered, before taking away both of his hands. His
fingers came back into contact with Stiles' skin as they pushed underneath the
rim of his shorts and now the teenager was pretty sure his heart had skipped
from hammering and trying to jump out of his chest to stopping to beat entirely
within a second. Meanwhile anticipation and nervousness were competing which of
them would have the honor of killing him.
_____
Stiles squirmed slightly on the table as he felt his clothes being pulled away
in a steady, fluid motion, only shortly hampered by his cock coming free. He
stilled as he could feel them pool around his ankles. It was strange,
especially considered his current position. He felt utterly exposed and on
display – probably because both things were true.
He could hear Peter standing up again, his hands retreating from their
completed task of undressing him and then there was nothing anymore for way too
long. No touch and no sound. It made Stiles nervous to wait through this minute
in which Peter just watched him lying there in front of him and admiring what
he saw. He clenched his hands to fist, trying his restraints once more just to
have something to do, even if he could feel his wrist going sore from all the
fidgeting, and waited as long as he could before raising his voice. “Peter?”
“Yes, Stiles? I'm still here.”
Stiles was almost sure he could hear Peter smirk. That dangerous underlying
tone was back and it made him feel hot and anxious. “Aren't you going to –”
“Impatient. I like that.” Peter stepped closer again, his pants brushing
against the skin of Stiles' legs. As little as it was, Stiles sighed at the
contact.
Peter's hand landed on the middle of the teenager's back, his fingers spread
wide and putting firm pressure against him. Stiles huffed out air, his heart
back to hammering in his chest. The amount of arousal he felt was almost
unbearable at this point. He had never wanted to be touched so badly and what
he got right now just wasn't enough. He was impatient, just as much as he was
nervous about what was to come, in a way people got nervous when doing things
they never had done before.
Stiles was just starting a train of thoughts, lamenting to himself about the
fact that this was really happening and getting serious, because he was naked
and about to have sex – on a table – as he felt Peter's weight shift and
distract him.
He couldn't see what was happening – what only made the anxiety bigger and the
situation more arousing – but he could feel what he was doing the next second.
Peter's tongue landed on his back, just above his tied up hands and he licked
up his spine slowly while taking away his hand. Stiles moaned and squirmed
feeling the hot pressure replaced by cold air fast.
“Oh god... please... more...” Stiles voice was thin and broken by pants and
sighs.
“Delightful.” Peter was scavenging through the pockets of his mantle, that lay
on the table behind Stiles. The teenager turned his head, but still was unable
to see what what exactly had been taken out of it.
He heard a soft sound as Peter opened the bottle of lube he had obtained.
Stiles tried to turn a little and arch up from the table to see what was going
on.
“I told you not to move.” The dominating nature of his words wasn't hampered by
the fact that Peter was half naked, hard in his pants for Stiles to see, or
just coating some of the fingers of his right hand with lube. The teenager
thought that it probably didn't matter what Peter was doing or how he was
dressed, he just had this way of maintaining control. It was outright sexy. At
least for him it really was.
Stiles scrambled back and lay down flat on the table quickly. There was
pressure against his right leg, followed by a kick against it that made him
stagger, even though he theoretically couldn't fall.
Peter waited another moment for Stiles to grasp the fact that he didn't just
kick him for the pure pleasure of kicking him, but it didn't happen. “Your
legs. Put them apart some more.” The bottle Peter had held in his hand made
another soft sound as it fell onto his mantle.
Stiles did as he was told, feeling even more on display and completely
unguarded, but strangely comfortable with the situation at the same time. What
bugged him the most was probably that silent voice that got even more silent
the longer this lasted, but still was asking him unwaveringly if it really was
okay to like this.
One of Peter's hand circled around the rope on his wrists slowly, fingers
brushing his skin softly, while the other brushed his ass. There was a firm,
cold and wet pressure between his cheeks and against his hole as Peter pushed a
finger against it lightly.
Stiles stopped breathing and his body tensed. He wasn't sure how he was
expecting this to be. Good, hopefully. New and strange, maybe. Exciting,
definitely.
What he definitely wasn't expecting was that the werewolf would tug at the rope
around his wrists. Unfortunately he did. Stiles hissed through gritted teeth,
his upper body arching up from the table a bit. It didn't really hurt that
much, but it definitely had him surprised and distracted. This moment of
distraction was when he felt Peter's finger push in harshly and after that
slide further into him slowly.
The hand on the rope was gone, pushing against his back instead and Stiles lay
down onto the table again. “Stiles. Breath.” Peter's voice was harsh, tainted
from a flash of mild worry at the other man's behavior.
Stiles took a deep, ragged breath in reply. “Holy shit...”
It was a strange feeling. Not really as good as he had thought it might be and
he sure hadn't thought it might even be uncomfortable. Peter started to move
his finger, slow at first, but getting faster quickly. The longer it took the
better it got, though. It didn't take long and Stiles was squirming, panting
and moaning beneath Peter's hand, getting louder by the second, and Peter just
let him, enjoying every sound he could pull out of him.
Stiles had just gotten used to the feeling, being comfortable with it and
enjoying himself as Peter pulled out nearly completely and added a second
finger before pushing back in deep. Stiles gasped and squirmed even more than
before, but this time around it took even less to get used to it.
He was on edge, all this being too much sensation, too much pleasure and
arousal and he had the feeling he couldn't take the way Peter's fingers moved
and twisted inside him, drawing out moans and sighs and incoherent words that
got constantly louder, much longer. Peter felt it, too. The little shift in the
tension of Stiles' body, the slight change of his scent and in his breathing.
Stiles could feel Peter shift and his face getting near to his back. He heard
him sniffling him, triggering a shiver and goosebumps. Just thinking about what
the other might be scenting on him was exciting and interesting, as well as
irritating – all at once. Peter took the hand that had rested rigid on his
back, bracing himself with it on the table by placing it next to Stiles' head
instead. He leaned in close until his mouth was next to his ear. Stiles could
feel his body pressing against his side lightly, while his fingers were still
moving inside him.
“Stiles, if you come now, you will have to come again.” Peter's breath was hot
against the shell of his ear, his last words stressed and seemingly underlined
by the timed movements of his fingers. He was still moving them, twisting them
now and pushing back in hard, using just the right angle. And that was it. He
just couldn't hold back any longer.
Stiles came shaking and with a cry of pleasure on his lips that tore through
the air and sure wasn't dampened much by the walls surrounding them. “Oh my
god... oh god... Peter...” Stiles gasped for air, groaning while his orgasm
lasted and Peter didn't still until he was sure that it was over completely.
The werewolf smirked and leaned in even more to place a kiss on Stiles' neck
before pushing himself off the table. His fingers slid out and Stiles' probably
would have mourned this event, if he not had been still shaking lightly,
feeling absolutely blissful. The thought that his cock didn't even get touched
so far shortly crossed his mind, but he decided that he didn't care.
Peter shifted behind him again and the rustling of clothes could be heard as he
got rid of his own pants.
“You want to look? Look.” Peter's voice got through the mild haze that
currently was Stiles' brain and he shifted on the table to glance over at him.
Peter had taken the lube back and was busy coating himself with it in lazy,
long strokes. Stiles swallowed hard, his mind busy with the equation how much
bigger Peter was compared to two of his fingers.
He didn't have an answer to that question, but he was sure he was about to find
out anyway. Stiles got excited again, the words from before coming back to his
mind and slowly sinking in. He didn't think that he was physically capable of
coming again during this. It just couldn't be. “Peter, about that little
statement from before...”
Peter chuckled low and cocked his head. “Yes, Stiles?”
“I don't think that is...”, Stiles began talking but couldn't finish as he felt
a cold, slick hand wrap around his not yet flaccid dick. He huffed and gasped
and buckled up from the table, pulling at his restraints and trying to get away
from the touch in vain. Peter was right behind him, his dick pressing against
him as he pressed back. Peter groaned softly, putting his hand to Stiles' hip,
not letting go of him again.
“I don't think that is a great idea, right now... oh god...” It wasn't outright
bad. Stiles just felt too sensitive to be touched and it was uncomfortable.
“I told you before. And I think you will change your mind about that.”, Peter
still sounded calm and collected, but not even he could hide the arousal thick
beneath his words or the longing look in his eyes, “You just have to trust me.”
Stiles did really not know why, but he did trust him. At least enough for this.
He nodded slowly, licking his lips and lying back down on the table.
Peter didn't move his hand again yet, just kept it closed around him. The next
thing Stiles could feel was the other man's cock pressing lightly against his
hole. He moved his head, pressed his forehead to the table and closed his eyes,
panting against the wood. Peter moved in slow, but it still caused a burning
sensation that was worse than with his fingers before.
Once pushed in completely Peter stilled for a moment before starting to move,
giving Stiles time to get used to the feeling. Rather similar to before he
started slow, going faster quick, starting to move his hand in time with his
thrusts.
All discomfort didn't last long. Stiles was hard again, panting, moaning and
calling god soon enough, this time accompanied by the panting breath of the
alpha who was constantly pushing in harder and deeper, pressing him against the
table hard in rhythm with his movements. Stiles had to take his forehead off
the wood and lay his head back onto the side. It felt great – way better than
anything they had done before.
Stiles mind always raced, his inability to focus one of his greatest problems.
He was rather caught up in this activity, but still his mind managed to
sidetrack for a moment and remember a fact that he had been completely
oblivious to up until now.
“Peter...” The werewolf couldn't get enough of how his name sounded moaned like
that. “Can... can... Derek. Can he hear us?”
Peter smirked, having the decency to finally sound out of breath when he
answered. “Yes. Yes, he can definitely hear you.” The werewolf pushed in hard,
making the man beneath him cry out in pleasure. “Who knows what he does,
hearing you like this?” Another hard thrust followed, but this time Stiles bit
his lip, only letting a muffled huff escape. “Loud, full of pleasure,
shameless. Screaming my name...”
“I didn't...”
“Do it now.” Peter's voice was faint and still the demand to be obeyed was
clear in it. “Scream my name. Let him hear.”
Stiles took a deep breath, pondering with himself, finding it difficult to obey
immediately. The command itself sent a shiver down his spine. It was arousing
that he urged him to let someone else hear this and at the same time the
thought of someone else hearing him was a little disturbing. On the other hand
he believed Peter when he told him that he already had been heard.
“I want him to know how much you enjoy me.” Peter had bent down, his voice
nearer than before and the angle of his thrusts slightly different now.
And then Stiles came again, a hot mess staining the wooden floor beneath the
table. He shuddered and groaned, Peter's name on his lips, definitely louder
than any noise he had made before. His fingers clenched in on themselves, in
the vain effort to hold onto something, his wrists pulling against the rope,
his breath hitching in his throat, while Peter was still moving inside him,
every hard thrust sending a new, slightly weaker jolt of pleasure through his
system, until he felt him come as well.
Peter's hips stuttered for a moment, his breath hitching slightly, going over
into a groan while he bent over Stiles, bracing himself with an arm on the
table. A few more erratic movements and Peter stopped, sagging slightly further
down onto the body beneath him.
After that the room was filled with pants and huffs, while they both tried to
calm down. It was no surprise to Peter that it was Stiles who was the first to
talk again. “Don't get me wrong, because this was awesome. More than awesome.
It was...”, Stiles gaped while obviously thinking, “... Okay, I don't have a
better word than awesome, but if I had, I would use it now. So it was this
good. But I'm sure I need to be home soon.”
Peter chuckled, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss onto the sweaty skin on
Stiles' back. “Before someone misses you?”
“Yes. That.” Stiles took in a deep breath, blissful smile still in place. “And
maybe a shower or two.”
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