Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1935585.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Peter_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Vernon_Boyd/Erica_Reyes
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Peter_Hale, Derek_Hale, Vernon_Boyd, Erica_Reyes, Scott
      McCall, Isaac_Lahey, Kate_Argent, Gerard_Argent
  Additional Tags:
      Steter_-_Freeform, AU, Camping, Peter_slightly_OOC, Mild_Smut
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-11 Words: 7643
****** I'm Not a Total Psycho ******
by SexyFruitNugget
Summary
     Peter hated camping. In fact, he despised it. That is, until Stiles
     Stilinski, the emissary of the McCall pack, showed up and took over
     his god damned life.
Peter hated camping. In fact, he despised it. He’d rather be anywhere than with
a bunch of blithering teenagers in the middle of the forest. However, “the
circumstances called for his presence”, according to his ever grumpy alpha,
Derek Hale.
“Stop being difficult and set up the tent,” Derek barked at him for the
umpteenth time. Peter smirked at him and made no move to get up. He was
lounging gracefully on a blanket watching his nephew.
“I don’t think so, dearest nephew. You see, I’m not really the manual labor
type,” Peter said while crossing his arms behind his head, his smirk growing
even wider.
Derek growled menacingly but ended up huffing in defeat knowing that there was
no way to force Peter to do anything if he was set against it.
Derek’s betas came through the woods then, each carrying backpacks filled with
camping supplies.
Contrary to popular belief, Peter liked the betas, Erica, Boyd, and Isaac.
Erica was feisty and knew how to use just as much sarcasm as Peter. He liked
having someone to banter with besides his angry nephew for a change. He liked
Boyd just as much as Erica, but in an entirely different way. Boyd was silent,
but in a non-awkward way. He was able to keep Peter some company in their
pack's dusty apartment without being annoying. Isaac was still a mystery to
Peter. He seemed alright but Peter had taken to avoiding him because of Isaac's
painful past with his abusive father. Peter didn't like dealing with emotional
teenagers and Isaac seemed to be the closest person to want to talk about their
feelings. Peter didn't do feelings.
Derek had turned the betas’ after the fire. It had only been Derek and Peter
that had escaped after the hunters had burned their house down. It was too
dangerous to have such a small pack what with hunters running about and other
wolf packs’ challenging the Hale’s claim on their land. Besides, Peter thought
the distraction of training new betas had helped Derek move on from his grief.
That, and they helped reap revenge on some of the hunters. That made them good
in Peter’s book.
Erica flopped her bag down and raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow in Peter’s
direction. “If he doesn't have to lug supplies, why do I?”
Derek sighed, looking up from his work on the tent. “Because we need to get
this place set up before the other pack arrives. We need to make a good
impression on them. If you don’t recall, we’re the ones that are supposed to be
helping them with their transformations and negotiating the alliance. We don’t
want to look like a group of bumbling teenagers.”
Erica rolled her eyes, but continued to work on unpacking.
Peter’s thoughts strayed to the new pack that they were meeting.  It had been a
while since new wolves had entered their territory but a rouge Alpha had
stumbled in and apparently bit a few unsuspecting teenagers. The Hale pack had
decimated the Alpha, but not before the newly bitten kids had formed a small
pack of their own in their desperation to find out what was happening to them.
Peter couldn't blame them but it did cause some complications with territory
boundaries and their lack of control made them potentially dangerous. Peter
stayed out of most of the affair, but thought simply killing them would put an
end to all this trouble. Derek wouldn't hear of it.
So here they were, in the middle of the woods, waiting for this amateur pack to
show up so they could teach them the basic rules of survival. Derek had wanted
it far away so no humans would stumble upon them. Peter could have cared less
as long as he had a comfortable bed and place to get away from all the hormonal
teenagers. Of course, Derek provided him with neither.
Peter closed his eyes and sighed, relaxing further into the blanket. The next
few days were going to be long.
 
Peter had spent the last few hours drifting in an out of sleep while listening
to Erica occasionally flirt with Boyd or joke with Isaac while they set up
camp. By the time he opened his eyes the tent was up and there were crackling
flames in the fire pit. He felt pleased with himself on being able to squirm
his way out of working. Ever since Derek announced this little trip Peter had
been doing everything in his power to make it as uncomfortable for Derek as he
could.
He lightly sniffed the air to smell for his pack. They were all relatively
close by, probably scouting the area to make sure everything was safe. That was
when he smelled an unfamiliar scent. Another Alpha.
Peter was on his feet in an instant, ready to stand his ground or flee if the
situation was deemed too dangerous. They hadn’t expected the other pack—the
McCall pack—to be here so early. He smelled the air again, looking for other
wolves, but all he picked up was the one wolf and—a car? Confusion flooded over
him. Why would a pack of wolves drive? They were in the middle of the forest.
It was more practical to run.
Regardless of his confusion he stayed in his fighting stance as a blue jeep
pulled into the clearing. A young, golden skinned boy was the first out of the
jeep. Peter instantly pinned him as the Alpha. He looked slightly awkward, not
at all like the other Alpha’s Peter had met before.
“I, um, I’m Scott McCall. This is where the Hales are camping, right? I’m
looking for a guy named Derek…” Scott said, rubbing his hand over the back of
his head. Peter instantly relaxed. This Alpha was more inexperienced than he
thought. He couldn't even smell that Peter was a wolf.
Peter flashed his fangs in response, earning a startled jump from the boy.
“Derek’s not here right now. I’m his Uncle, Peter,” Peter purred. He needed to
lay the charm on this boy to make him trust him. He’d rather have this alpha in
his pocket than in Derek’s. Sure, he didn't mind Derek being his Alpha, but it
was always good to have a little leverage.
He looked up at the car and could see another figure behind the tinted windows.
He was just about to tell this Scott to invite his friend out of the car when
he felt Derek and the Betas rush up behind him. Damn.
“I’ll take over from here, Peter,” Derek said tersely. Peter, annoyed, fell
back behind Derek and the others.
He began tuning out what Derek was saying to Scott and was just contemplating
whether or not he would be able to come up with an excuse to go home when
Scott’s friend hopped out of the jeep.
The moment his smell hit Peter he was sure his world had been thrown off its
axis. The smell was so sweet and intoxicating it caused Peter to stumble
backwards. Isaac glanced at him in concern but Peter’s gaze remained locked on
the boy. He had never felt anything like this. The boy was thin and lanky, with
a smattering of freckles along his face that Peter wanted to rub his face all
over. He wanted to lick bruises all along his creamy neck and scent mark him
until the boy was writhing against him.
“This is Stiles,” Scott said, gesturing to the boy.
Stiles. Peter mouthed the name, liking the feel of the syllables on his lips.
Derek sniffed at Stiles and made a face. “A druid? Is he training to be your
emissary?” Derek asked looking Stiles up and down.
“A what?” Scott asked.
Peter had finally pulled himself out of his stupor and sauntered forward. “An
emissary is an adviser to a wolf pack, normally with some supernatural
abilities of their own. You could say that they possess a type of magic,” He
said, leaning down slightly to look Stiles in the eye. Stiles seemed flustered.
He’d probably never been this close to a werewolf that wasn't Scott.
It took him a moment to find his words. “But I’m not a druid! I've never had
anything remotely out of the ordinary happen to me—well—before Scott got bit
anyways,” Stiles said.
Peter almost purred at the sound the boy’s voice. He would love to see what
other noises he could pull from the boy when Stiles was squirming underneath
him.
“It’s not uncommon for beings to subconsciously feel a supernatural pull toward
a person. Scott is a true Alpha, which is why he was able to become an Alpha
without killing the one that bit him. You likely have dormant druid blood in
you. Your blood felt the potential in Scott, which is why you naturally were
drawn to him.” Much like how I am drawn to you, Peter wanted to add, but
refrained.
“Are you saying I became friends with Scott because of some freaky werewolf
stuff?” Stiles asked incredulously. Peter couldn't help but smirk at the boy
and nodded. Stiles threw his hands up in the air. “Great. My entire life has
been dictated by the paranormal. That’s just great.” Peter smiled at the boy’s
reaction, but before he could continue talking to Stiles, Derek cleared his
throat.
“We need to go over the basics of what it means to be involved in this world.
This shouldn't take as long as I expected. You’re a much smaller pack than I
previously thought…” Derek began, but Peter ignored the rest of his
introduction to the supernatural speech. He focused on Stiles while Derek
droned on about territory lines and the like. He focused on Stile’s pretty pink
lips. They would part slightly at times and it made Peter want to grab them
between his teeth and leave little bites there.
Peter shook his head. He couldn't believe he was fantasizing about an underage
boy so much, but there was something about him he couldn't shake. He had heard
stories about werewolves finding their mate or a person that smelled too good
to resist but he had never actually believed they could be true. Stiles glance
up at him and quickly looked away. Peter knew he must be frightening the boy,
but he couldn't bring himself to stop staring.
“I should probably set up our tent if Scott is going to be doing werewolf
training with you all night,” Stiles voice cut through Peter’s thoughts like a
knife.
“I can help you if you want.” Peter said, jumping up to give Stiles a hand. He
was suddenly aware of his entire pack looking at him as though he had grown a
second head. He raised an eyebrow at them. “What? It’s nice to know you all
have faith that I can be a decent human every once in a while.” Peter said.
“I didn't know you could act remotely human, let alone decent,” retorted Erica
with a playful grin on her face.
Peter ignored her and headed to the jeep with Stiles at his heels.
“Thanks for helping me,” Stiles said while pulling the tent out of the back
seat of his jeep. “You’re Peter, right?” At Peter’s questioning expression
Stiles spoke up again. “I tried to do some research on everyone we would be
meeting, you know? That’s how I know your name. It was just precautionary, but
now that I think about it I sound totally creepy and I probably should just
shut up now,” Stiles chuckled awkwardly but Peter snorted at his antics which
seemed to make Stiles relax.
He took the tent from Stiles and began to set it up. “You’re pretty brave to
come out here knowing you’d be surrounded by unfamiliar werewolves. Brave, or
just reckless,” Peter said making Stiles look indignant.
“I’m not reckless! I couldn't just let Scott come out here all by himself!
Besides, I brought weapons to protect myself,” Stiles said, crossing his arms
over his chest.
Peter eyed the baseball bat resting next to Stiles bag. “I’d like to see you
take on a werewolf with that,” Peter chuckled, but the words left a bitter
taste in his mouth. Just imagining small, gangly Stiles up against a powerful
werewolf made him feel slightly sick.
“I could help teach you some tricks on how to fight,” Peter offered, knowing it
might not be much good, but it would help him sleep better at night.
Stiles smiled. It made Peter’s heart stutter in his chest and Erica looked over
at him with a raised eyebrow. She must have picked up on the missed beat. She
flounced over to where Peter was setting up Stiles’s tent.
Peter groaned in his mind, knowing she was going to be a pain. “It’s nice to
see Peter being nice for once,” She said, directing her attention to Stiles.
“He rarely gives a damn about anyone else. Apparently all it takes to win Peter
over is puppy dog eyes and cute freckles.” She said while looking Stiles up and
down. She then glanced at Peter. “I didn't know you were into underage boys.
Although, I do see what you see in this one,” She said pleasantly and put her
hand under Stiles chin and turned his head from side to side.
Peter growled. He instantly grabbed Erica’s wrist and yanked her hand away from
Stiles. He felt his eyes flash blue and the prick of his fangs against his
button lip.
“Ooo, you’re a little touchy about this one,” Erica teased but backed off. “You
should be pleased, Little Red,” She said gesturing to Stile’s red hoodie. “I've
never seen him so into someone.” She took that as her cue to leave, grinned,
and sauntered away.
Peter sighed in frustration and looked over at Stiles. He had a light blush
dusted over his cheeks that made him look delectable. “I apologize for Erica’s
behavior. She can be very… eccentric.”
Stiles waved him off good-naturedly, but the blush remained on his face.
 
A few hours had passed since the McCall pack had arrived at the campsite. Peter
had finished setting up Stiles’s tent and had been watching Derek explain the
finer details of being a werewolf for what seemed like much too long of a time.
Peter was restless. The only thing that kept him occupied was watching the
sweet smelling boy, which was both good and bad. It kept him occupied, sure,
but not being able to do anything about his desire only frustrated him further.
Boyd, Erica, and Isaac had seemed to notice his starring. They had taken to
having some silent conversation with each other using only their eyebrows, but
Peter had long since stopped caring what they were saying.
He suddenly heard Stiles’s stomach growl.
“You’re hungry?” Peter asked.
Stiles blushed again. “You can hear that?” He asked, surprised. Peter just
rolled his eyes and stood up. “Where did you guys pack your cooler?” He asked,
preparing to fetch food for the boy. Scott and Stiles exchanged a look.
“We—uh… We kind of forgot to pack food…” Scott said. Derek raised his eyebrows
at them.
“You can share some of ours,” Isaac said pleasantly, but then shrunk away from
Derek’s glare.
“Fine, but you have to cook it,” Derek grumbled.
“I can go get some more wood for the fire?” Stiles offered.
“I should go with you,” Peter quickly said, wincing at how eager he sounded so
he swiftly added, “Just in case. The forest can be a dangerous place you know.”
He was aware of his pack watching him amusedly as he walked into the forest
with Stiles.
He’d been gathering wood for a while, well, Stileshad been gathering wood.
Peter had been enjoying the nice view of Stiles bending over to gather the
sticks.
Stiles glanced up at Peter again and flushed. “You didn’t have to come with me
you know,” Stiles mumbled while continuing to avoid eye contact with Peter.
“I wanted to come. You see, Stiles, I find you particularly intriguing,” Peter
said while slowly circling Stiles in a predatory way. He didn’t know why he
kept getting closer and closer to the boy, but the smell of him was like a drug
he couldn’t say no to. He watched Stiles gulp and reveled in the way his Adam’s
apple bobbed up and down and suddenly Peter was less than an inch away from his
face, practically breathing the very essence of Stiles in. Peter paused,
waiting for Stiles reaction, but Stiles made no move to leave. He was stalk
still and Peter could hear his heart going into overdrive. He smirked and
leaned into stiles, pressing his lips against his jaw. He heard Stiles’s breath
hitch and Peter practically purred.
A twig cracked in the woods. Peter paused.
“What—?” Stiles began, but Peter tackled him to the ground just as an arrow
shot past them. Peter leaped up, roaring. There were several
hunters—Argents—surrounding them. Peter leaned possessively over Stiles,
growling a warning to the hunters. There were three of them, but no one he
recognized. He could only tell that they were Argents by their scent.
The first, a young man, shot an arrow at Peter. Peter leaped out of the way and
lunged at the man, morphing into his full Beta form. He landed on top of him
and they went sprawling into the dirt. Peter bit at the man’s face, but he was
using his cross bow to keep Peters teeth from closing around his throat. Peter
saw the female hunter raise her gun to shoot him. He rolled over so the man was
on top of him just before the bullet was released. It pierced the man’s back
and he let out an ear shattering scream. Peter used his distraction to tear his
jugular vein out with his claws. The other male hunter let out a grief stricken
cry, charging at Peter with a sword.
Peter leapt up, getting ready for the next fight when the female hunter
detonated an ultrasonic emitter. The noise was like nothing Peter had ever
heard.  A high pitched stinging ring that was more intense than any other
emitter Peter had encountered was emanating from it. He clapped his hands over
his ears and yelled. The pain was enough to bring him to his knees. 
The man with the sword took a swing at peter and he caught it with his hand.
Blood gushed from his palm as he tried to keep hold of the blades edge. He
could already feel his rapid healing trying to close the wound, but the blade
remained in the way. The male hunter gritted his teeth and pushed harder, but
Peter tried to remain stable despite the pain in his hand and the pain ringing
throughout his head, disorientating him.  The hunter pulled the blade from
Peters hand and raised it to cut off his head.
“No!” Peter thought the sharp cry came from Stiles, but his head was starting
to spin from the emitter’s noise. The hunter was about to remove Peter’s head
when the female spoke.
“Wait, perhaps the boy is on to something…” the female hunter said, looking
over at Peter with a sneer. “We need him to lead us to the rest of the pack.
We’ve been tracking down the Hales for too long and Gerard is getting
impatient.”
Gerard. Peter recognized the name. He was the leader of the Argents and the one
to order the attack on the Hale house.
“Don’t kill him, but keep him incapacitated,” the female said with a wave of
her hand and then turned to Stiles.
Panic flooded Peter as he watched her approach him.
“Who’s this pretty little thing?” the female asked, running the barrel of her
gun along his cheek.  “Well, I suppose the more important question is what are
you, darling?”  She crooned.
“Easy Kate. You know were not supposed to kill humans,” the man said, still
keeping his sword against Peter’s neck in case he tried to make any sudden
moves.
“Oh, but this one’s not human. This is the potential druid Gerard was talking
about,” She grinned, standing up and then pressing the barrel of her gun to
Stiles forehead. “See you on the other side, kid,” She said, cocking the gun.
“No!” Peter yelled, his wolf taking over him like it had never before. For the
first time he no longer cared about his own life. Only one line continued to
repeat through his head: protect mate. 
He slashed at the man’s legs, ripping one clean off his body, but not before
the man thrust his sword through Peter’s shoulder.
The female’s gun went off.
Peter instantly saw red. He tore the man’s throat out, howling in rage as he
leaped up to decimate the hunter named Kate. The hunter that had killed his
Stiles. That had killed the only person that had truly made him feel something
in a long, long, time.
But as he made a move toward her he saw that Stiles wasn’t dead. He stood, arm
outstretched, the bullet floating above his palm.
Kate stumbled back in surprise, not expecting him to have so much power.
Peter didn’t waste time. He lunged forward, grabbing Kate from behind and tore
out her throat with his claws. She made an odd gurgling noise as blood spirted
from her neck and mouth and then she dropped.
It was deadly silent. The bodies of three dead hunters laid around them and
Peter was covered in blood. Peter kept his gaze down, knowing Stiles must be
thoroughly traumatized and scared.  The sound of the bullet falling down to the
ground broke the silence and suddenly Stiles rushed over and had his hands
fluttering over Peter’s body.
“Oh, Jesus, you’re hurt. Shit!” Stiles let out a string of curse words and
Peter watched him in shock. This oblivious boy still trusted him even after he
brutally murdered people right in front of him. He felt something warm blossom
in his chest despite the situation.
“I’m a werewolf. We heal fast,” Peter said, bemused at Stiles fussing.
“But your wounds could get infected! God, we have to get you back to the camp!”
Stiles yelled, pulling on Peter’s hand. Peter humored him and let Stiles pull
him back to the site. He obviously hadn’t had a lot of experience with Scott
being hurt. It surprised Peter how much Stiles had to learn about werewolves
despite how comfortable he seemed around them.
When they arrived everyone instantly got tense seeing Peter covered in blood
and he was instantly bombarded with questions.
Peter explained about the hunters as quickly as he could. Stiles kept shoving
antiseptic and bandages at him and seemed to be getting antsy that no one was
helping Peter.
“We need to leave. Once Gerard figures out that the hunters he sent out aren’t
coming back he’ll send even more. We can’t risk getting caught off guard,”
Derek said, slamming his hands down on a picnic table in frustration.
“There’s no way were going to be able to get out of here tonight. It’s about to
storm,” Isaac said, gesturing to the grey clouds.
Derek cursed under his breathe. “Fine, we’ll stay the night, but first thing
next morning we’re packing up and regrouping.” There seemed to be a collective
sigh of relief as everyone went back to relaxing or taking shelter in their
tents.
Peter walked next to his tent and grabbed his bag with extra clothes. He turned
around to go off to change in the forest, but he came face to face with a
worried stiles still clutching the antiseptic bottle.
“You haven’t cleaned your wounds,” Stiles said stubbornly. Peter felt a rush of
affection toward the boy. It had been a long time since anyone had truly cared
about his wellbeing.
“Alright, you can clean them for me,” Peter said smirking as he lifted his
tattered shirt over his head and threw it on the ground. Stiles eyes seemed to
bug out of his head as he drank in the sight of Peters naked torso. Peter
couldn’t help but be filled with a strange satisfaction at the blush that
spread over Stiles’s cheeks. Stiles couldn’t seem to form a coherent word, so
instead he poured the liquid over a rag and began dabbing at the blood,
purposely avoiding Peter’s eyes.
It didn’t take Stiles long before he realized he was only washing the blood
away because there were no wounds. “Wow!” He said, looking up at Peter. “I knew
you guys could heal, but not like that! You’re practically Wolverine!”
Peter chuckled but became serious. “You’re taking this rather well. I did maim
and brutally kill several people right in front of you. Not to mention the use
of your powers. I’ve never seen a druid be able to do something like that
without practice.”
Stiles blushed and continued scrubbing away the blood. “I just… I thought they
were going to kill me. I thought they were going to kill you.I don’t know. It’s
just the first time I saw you… I felt different, like I was drawn to you. I
feel…safe. I felt powerful, like something was awakening in me…”
Peter stared down at the boy. So it was true. Peter had read about werewolves
mating and how it allowed mates to feed off the energy of the other.
At Peters silence Stiles spoke up again. “You…kissed me? Sort of… Before the
hunters attacked…” the way stiles spoke sounded as if he was asking a tentative
question and just as Peter began to respond Scott’s voice cut through the
clearing.
“Stiles! We should probably head to the tent before the storm picks up!” He
said good-naturedly, but Peter felt like he could have ripped the boys head off
for breaking his moment with Stiles.
Stiles glanced over at Peter. “I—uh—I guess I’ll talk to you later,” Stiles
said while slowly walking toward Scott, looking over at his shoulder to glance
at Peter.
 
 
Stiles couldn’t sleep. The rain was pounding so loudly against the tent and he
was freezing down to his toes. He glanced over at Scott who snored peacefully
in his sleep. Stiles sighed. It wasn’t just the weather that had been keeping
him up. His encounter with Erica just before he entered his tent replayed over
and over in his head.
“He likes you, you know. More than I’ve ever seen him like anyone,” She said,
but her voice held none of its normal teasing.
“Who-?” Stiles began.
“Cut the crap. You know I mean Peter. Look, I figure the idiot is never going
to tell you so I might as well,” She started, her hands on her hips.
“Tell me what?” Stiles inquired.
“That he’s trying to be mated to you,” at the incredulous look on Stiles face
she continued. “God, you don’t even fucking see it, do you? Right away the
whole pack could smell the difference in him. The arousal was practically
wafting off the both of you. His wolf wants you. It’s making him provide you
shelter with the tent, food by getting you wood, and protecting you against the
hunters. It’s everything a wolf does to get the attention of a potential mate.”
“But—I’ve read about potential mates. They’re extremely rare. There’s no way
that I—a skinny, seventeen year old boy—is a potential mate to Peter friggen
Hale!” Stiles said, running his hands through his hair in panic.
“Look, Little Red, I’m just calling it as I see it. Besides, you can’t honestly
tell me that he hasn’t tried to make a move on you,” She said with a raised
eyebrow.
The memory of Peter kissing his neck flashed in his mind and a shiver ran down
his back.
Erica grinned. “See? All I’m saying is to give it a shot. I like Peter a whole
lot more around you. He’s more fun to tease,” She said before walking off.
Stiles rolled over in his sleeping bag, trying to shake the memory off. A gust
of wind shook the tent and Stiles shivered again, this time from cold. Once his
teeth started chattering he made the decision to sleep in his Jeep. He
discreetly unzipped his sleeping bag and creeped out of his tent to avoid
waking Scott. He was walking to his Jeep when he noticed a figure sitting out
in the rain.
“Peter?” He asked. Peter’s ice blue eyes looked up into Stiles’s face. Stiles
gulped.
“You’re up late, Little Red,” Peter said, smiling.
“I’m just cold. I was going to sleep in my car.”
Peter frowned, not liking that Stiles was cold, and hopped off the log he was
sitting on, embracing Stiles into his arms. Stiles squeaked in surprise.  Peter
buried his warm nose in Stiles neck again and Stiles made to move to stop him.
Peter’s tongue flicked out to taste the juncture between his neck collar bone
and Stiles moaned. Before Stiles knew it he was stumbling to his car and
falling into the back seat with Peter on top of him. Peter sniffed at his neck
and began lapping a mark there. Stiles let out a cry as Peter bit his neck
softly, but instantly felt a warm rush of pleasure pulsate from the bite. Peter
tugged at Stiles’s shirt, ripping it slightly, but Stiles’s couldn’t find it in
himself to care. Peter left a trail of hickeys down Stiles’s chest once his
shirt was off. Stiles clawed his hands down Peter’s back and eventually started
pulling at the end of Peter’s shirt.
“Off,” Stiles mumbled and Peter obliged, sitting up to pull it off and then
leaned back down to capture Stiles’s lips in a kiss.
The kiss felt like Stiles had been denied oxygen his whole life and Peter was
breathing his very essence back into him. It didn’t feel like a burning fire,
like how all the books described it, but a pure clean air that made Stiles feel
whole. It made Stiles feel alive.
He kissed back with enthusiasm, tailing his hands down Peter’s naked torso
before coming to a stop at the fly of Peter’s pants.
“Can I?” Stiles asked, glancing up at Peter through his eyelashes. Peter
groaned and kissed him and Stiles took that as an affirmative. He pulled at
Peter’s pants until Peter tugged them off and then he made quick work of
removing his own pants and underwear as well.
Stiles had never been totally naked in front of someone he liked before and he
could feel the blush rushing down his face and neck.
Peter rubbed a thumb along Stiles’s jaw, coaxing the boy to look up at him.
“You’re so young,” he whispered, a flash of guilt overtaking Peter’s face.
Stiles felt alarmed at once, afraid Peter was going to stop.
“I’m old enough to know what I want! And I’ve wanted you since I first met you.
I know about potential mates and… I think I could be yours,” Stiles breathed
out.
Peter’s heart seemed to expand in his chest and he kissed Stiles roughly.
Stiles wound his fingers in Peter’s hair while their mouths clashed together.
When their naked bodies bumped into each other Stiles gasped and Peter began
grinding down into him. Stiles yelped and wrapped his legs around Peter’s back
as they continued to rock against each other. Stile’s made little noises each
time Peter grinded down into him and they were enough to make Peter want to
flip the boy over and fuck him raw. But looking down at Stiles’s flushed face,
eyes squeezed shut, and moaning Peter’s name over and over again like a mantra,
Peter knew he could never hurt the boy and this was more than enough to satisfy
many fantasies when he was home alone.
“I’m—I’m gonna come!” Stiles yelled, arching his back.
“Me too,” Peter said, but his voice was slightly muffled from his protruding
fangs. He was gipping Stiles’s hips so tightly he was sure his claws were
digging into Stiles sides but Stiles didn’t seem to notice or care.
Stiles eyes flew open and his mouth opened in a silent scream as he came all
over his stomach. Peter roared and bent his head to latch his teeth firmly
around Stiles’s wrist as he came on top of him, their semen mixing together.
Peter rolled Stiles over so he was on top of him, their heavy breathing slowed
and Peter felt himself idly running his hands up and down Stiles’s back, his
wolf inside practically purring with delight.
It was like he could feel Stiles’s emotions as well as his own. They were
connected now, in a supernatural way, but Peter couldn’t find it in himself to
be upset. He felt as though he could be connected to this boy for eternity and
it wouldn’t matter.
“Wow,” Stiles finally spoke, propping his chin up to look at Peter, smiling.
“I—I know that this is kind of fast but I feel like I… well…. Like I might…I
think I lov—,”
“I love you,” Peter interrupted. Stiles eyes widened in surprise, but a grin
overtook his face. He leaned in to kiss Peter before laying his head down on
Peter’s chest. The last thing Peter remembered was the beating of Stiles’s
heart against his before he fell asleep.
 
The next morning Peter found himself panicking.
He had jacked off with Stiles. He had jacked offwith Stiles.Underage Stiles.
Peter, as inconspicuously as he could, lifted Stiles off him and slipped out
the car, pulling on his clothes once he got out. The smell and feel of the come
on his chest overpowering his senses.
Peter started walking back to the tent when he realized the entire pack was up,
already gathering their supplies to get on the road. All of their heads turned
to stare at him incredulously. Derek’s nostrils flared as he smelled Peter.
“Peter, tell me you didn’t,” Derek said, glaring at him. Erica just giggled and
continued packing, a knowing smile on her face.
Boyd begrudgingly handed a smirking Isaac money. “I told you to not bet with
me,” Isaac said, grinning at a scowling Boyd. Scott seemed to be the only one
still in shock.
“You smell like Stiles. You slept with my best friend!” Scott accused, standing
up to yell at Peter.
Peter raised an eyebrow. “Trust me, he was sleeping with me just as much as I
was sleeping with him,” Peter sassed. Scott’s eyes glowed red and he growled at
Peter.
“Scott, don’t!” Peter heard Stiles’s voice behind him. Stiles was breathing
hard, obviously jogging to make it to the camp site after he heard the
commotion. He was in such a hurry his shirt was on inside out.
Scott’s glowing eyes died down but he still looked pissed. “We're leaving
Stiles,” He growled out and Peter’s eyes flashed blue, disliking another wolf
ordering around his mate. Scott stalked off toward the Jeep and Stiles sighed,
running his fingers through his hair before looking at Peter.
“I—I’ll contact you later, okay? I just need to take care of some things with
Scott,” Stiles said.
Peter frowned, but nodded at Stiles before he trotted off to find Scott.
Peter watched the Jeep disappear into the distance before he was being spun
around by a pissed off Derek. “Seriously, Peter? You had to go fuck things up
right when we were making progress with Scott! The last thing we need right now
is psycho hunters anda pissed off alpha!” Derek snarled.
Peter normally would have come up with a snarky retort, but he couldn’t focus
on Derek. There was a pain in his chest, growing stronger as Stiles became
further away. He wondered if Stiles felt it too.
Derek seemed to sense that something was wrong with Peter because he calmed
down, backing away from him.
“Look, let’s just get on the road before the hunters track us,” He finally
said, leaving Peter.
 
 
A few minutes later they had packed up all their gear into backpacks and were
running back toward their apartment. Isaac was hanging back to watch Peter who
looked more and more sick the farther they got away from Stiles. Peter couldn’t
help but think of the boy. Would he stop seeing Peter now that his alpha
disapproved?  Did he regret the night before? Peter couldn’t remember the last
time be gave a damn what anyone thought, but when it came to Stiles everything
was different.
It was then that Peter heard a scream so loud it caused him to fall over.
His pack stopped and Isaac crouched down next to him. “What’s wrong?” He asked.
Peter raised his head to look up at Isaac in panic.
“It's Stiles. He’s in trouble.”
 
Stiles was gripping his steering wheel so tight his knuckles were turning
white. He hadn’t fought with Scott like this in a long time.
“Look, Stiles, I just don’t want to see you get hurt. I mean, do you even know
how old he is? Besides, he’s a total psycho! He killed people with no problem
right in front of you!” Scott said, waving his hands around for emphasis.
“You seem to forget the people he killed with “no problem” were trying to kill
me,” Stiles snapped back.
Scott opened his mouth to retort, but Stiles cut him off, pulling the car over
with a screech. “Scott, I know you don’t approve, but I’ve never felt like his.
The first time I saw Peter it was like I knew instantly that we were supposed
to be together, and no, that has nothing to do with over active teenage
hormones. I’m a potential mate for him. I read about this online right after
you got bit. Potential mates only happen practically once in a lifetime. Most
werewolves never even find one and I’m Peter’s. He’s been nothing but nice to
us and he saved my life. So yeah, he’s way too old for me, but quite frankly,
Scott, I don’t give a damn because even though it goes against everything I
used to say about teenagers not being able to fall in love, I think I’m in love
with him,” Stiles rushed out, noticing that he had been absentmindedly rubbing
the bite mark on his wrist.
Scott was looking at him with surprise and paused. “Fine,” he finally said.
Stiles whipped his head up. “What?” He asked.
Scott let a tentative smile grace his face. “I said fine. Date him. You’re
obviously crazy into him and you’re my best friend. I shouldn’t treat you like
you don’t know how to take care of yourself. I suppose I just get protective
sometimes knowing that you’re physically weaker than me. I think it’s a pack
thing, but…I’ll support you no matter what.”
Stiles felt a goofy grin spread over his face and he threw himself at Scott to
pull him into a hug. Scott laughed and patted him on the back. Stiles revved
the engine, eager to get home so he could talk to Peter. He couldn’t explain it
but being away from Peter felt like he had a pain in his chest that he couldn’t
remove.
All at once there was a loud bang and he felt the tire go out on his Jeep. He
swerved, hitting a huge rock and he felt his Jeep flip. He cracked his head on
his steering wheel and opened his eyes to see that he was upside down in his
car. Scott had already wiggled out of his seatbelt and moved to help Stiles
whose head was spinning. “What happene—?” Scott was about to ask but before he
could finish he was suddenly dragged back and out of Stiles sight.
Stiles screamed.
He unclicked his seatbelt, calling for Scott as he squirmed out of the car only
to have his gaze fall on his friend who was on his knees with a gun pointed to
his head.
“I wouldn’t move, druid, or your werewolf friend gets a wolfsbane bullet to the
head,” the older man holding the gun said.
Stiles raised his hands in surrender, feeling blood trickling down his forehead
from the crash. “What do you want?” He asked.
“I want many things, druid, but for now I want to know which of you killed my
daughter?” The man said through gritted teeth. Stiles sucked in a breath,
remembering the woman named Kate that Peter had killed.
A roar exploded out of the clearing, scaring Stiles and the man barely had time
to whip his head around before a blur came flying out of the bushes and tackled
him to the ground.
Peter. Peter had come. He landed on top of the hunter, snarling.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t a Hale,” the man said, sneering up at Peter. “I
always knew I was right having ordered that nest of yours to be burned down.
You were always dangerous animals that needed to be exterminated,” He spat up
at Peter, but Peter didn’t look angry, he looked deadly calm.
“I suppose we’re even, Gerard. You killed my family and I killed yours,” Peter
smiled evilly down at Gerard and the hunter’s face went from a sneer to rage.
“You killed Kate!” He yelled out. “You bastard! I’ll kil—” but before he could
finish Peter slashed at his throat, but a gun shot rang out.
Everything was still except for Gerard’s writhing form as he bled out. Blood
slowly appeared on Peter’s back, showing that we was indeed shot and Stiles
cried out in anguish. Peter’s pack finally appeared. They all seemed to be out
of breath from trying to keep up but straightened at the sight of Peter shot
and Gerard dying. Derek quickly tore Gerard’s head off his body and turned
toward Peter, looking at his wound.
“It’s wolfsbane,” Derek whispered, but Stiles’s head was spinning from the
crash and was having a hard time hearing. “We have to take care of him fast,”
Derek was saying to Boyd before Scott blocked them from his line of sight.
“Stiles, are you okay? You’re bleeding a lot,” Scott’s voice wafted in and out
of Stiles mind as Stiles head swerved, trying to find Peter to make sure he was
alright.
Stiles and Peter made eye contact across the clearing before they both lost
consciousness.
 
 
When Peter woke he was in a familiar bed. His bed. At his apartment. He sat up
suddenly, looking around in confusion. He couldn’t find Stiles. Maybe it was
all some elaborate dream and Stiles didn’t even exist. He felt his heart clench
painfully at the thought and he made to leap out of his bed to go search for
the boy when Stiles appeared in his doorway, looking extremely tired. He had a
surprised expression at seeing Peter awake and then he grinned.
“God, I’m so glad you’re up! I was worried you were going to die even though
Derek said you weren’t but still!” Stiles said embracing Peter. Peter pulled
back to look at Stiles.
“Are you alright? You were bleeding…” Peter said running his fingers along
Stiles’s temple. Stiles leaned into the touch.
 “I’m fine. I didn’t even get a concussion. I’ve had a couple days to heal
anyway,” Stiles said, smiling up at Peter.
“A couple days?” Peter asked, confused.
“Well, the wolfsbane bullet did a number on you. Derek was able to take care of
you after he finished off Gerard, but it was so close to your heart they were
worried you wouldn’t survive… I’ve been taking care of you the whole time. I
had to tell my dad that Scott and I were extending our camping trip and
everything…” He said.
“Gerard is dead?” Peter asked, trying to remember the moments before he passed
out.
“Yeah. Derek says that Gerard let his feelings get in the way because of Kate’s
death. Normally hunters wait for back up but I’m glad this guy was impatient. I
can’t imagine how much damage could have been done if there were more,” Stiles
paused. “I don’t know what I would have done if…” He looked at Peter with sad
eyes.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me Stiles. I’m a big, bad, werewolf, remember?”
Peter joked and Stiles lightly punched him on the shoulder.
Peter leaned in, kissing Stiles. He slowly wrapped his hands around Stiles’s
waist before sitting back on his bed, effectively pulling Stiles on top of him.
Stiles laughed but then moaned as Peter continued kissing him. Peter pulled
back and looked into Stiles’s eyes. “I’ll always protect you. You’re my mate
now,” Peter said, caressing Stiles again.
Stiles smiled. “I don’t think you have to worry about protecting me too much.
Not from the hunters anyway. Derek said that now that the hunter’s leader is
dead they have no one left to follow. He thinks they’ll disperse now. We should
be safe,” Stiles said grinning and Peter couldn’t help but smile too. A few
years ago he never would have been able to guess that this was the life he
would have ended up with: a mate and no hunters.
“I love you, Little Red,” he whispered up at Stiles. Stiles grinned into
another kiss.
“God, some of us have super werewolf abilities and can hear you being gross and
mushy up there!” Erica yelled from down the stairs.
Stiles snickered. “We probably shouldn’t take this too far. I don’t want to
scar their poor werewolf minds,” Stiles said, rolling over to lay next to
Peter. Peter looked at him, grinning.
“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t do that to them. I’m not a total psycho.”
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