#beta!stiles

Stiles turned in shock and moved so fast that he slipped off the side of the bed and fell hard on the ground.

“Ow,” he groaned in pain.

Boner effectively diminished, he sat up, heart racing as he looked at Peter, “Oh my God,” he stared at the alpha, blushing furiously, “It wasn’t a dream?”

“Afraid not,” Peter yawned and then stretched, kicking the covers half off of himself and the shirt of Stiles’s he was wearing rode up slightly, exposing skin, “I’ll never understand why you chose morning classes over evening, this is for the birds.”

Stiles eyed the show of skin, feeling his dick harden again slightly. He climbed back up onto the bed, covering himself and looking away, “I’m a morning person, and I’m still not really past the fact that you were laying next to me, and I was just jacking off.”

Peter propped himself up on his elbow and looked at Stiles, realizing that maybe he should offer to give the beta some privacy to either finish off or wallow in embarrassment. It kept slipping his mind that Stiles had lost 3 years of his memory.

“Oh,” the alpha mumbled sleepily and sat up, scratching at his jaw before standing, “Well, I can give you a minute, if that’s what you need?”

“You’d hear it anyway, you’re a werewolf,” Stiles rolled his eyes and laid back down, “What’s privacy worth around a werewolf?”

He was actually tempted to do it with said werewolf around, he almost thought better of it, but shamelessly said: “Actually, you know what? I’m getting off, you can just sit there.” He didn’t really like being spoiled of one of the only times during the day that he got to feel it, and if Stiles and him were close, chances were this had happened at some point. If it hadn’t, oh well, now he’d opened new doors for himself.

The alpha licked his lips and grinned before moving back to the bed, laying down on it before rolling, putting his back to Stiles, “If you need help, I’ll just be over here,” he offered shamelessly, turning to press his smile into the pillow.

“Oh,” he said suddenly, “Try not to panic when your knot swells. I imagine watching it happen for the first time would be... an interesting experience.” It would be difficult to lay there and not actively participate, but he’d restrain himself, to make sure he didn’t frighten the beta.

Stiles blinked as he realized what the older man had said. He been tugging so mindlessly at the head of his dick that he hadn’t even noticed he had a knot. He pushed down his pajamas and lifted the blanket to look at his dick, at the... renovations, and his insides twisted curiously.

“I... have a knot...” he said slowly, “Okay so now I don’t even know how to use my dick, thanks for ruining my morning.”

“How did I ruin it?” Peter asked, staring at the wall and fighting the urge to turn and look at Stiles, “If I recall correctly, I offered to help.”

Stiles was tempted to stop, to just get up and do everything else that was required of him, but if he and Peter were ‘the closest’, he couldn’t help feeling like he should ask for help. He knew he was latching onto the older man as a security blanket, and he probably shouldn’t, but he didn’t want to be alone. Or maybe it was that he didn’t want to be without Peter; a strange thought, but it kept coming up.

Either way, he’d need to figure this out if he planned on getting off ever again. Sure, exploring would be fun, but he didn’t have patience for that, he just wanted to get off, “Help?” he asked, voice a little too soft, and he blushed.

“Thought you’d never ask,” the alpha smiled and rolled, scooting closer to Stiles, “You’re going to be sensitive and it probably won’t last long, not your first time.”

Peter knew that if Derek found out about this, he’d probably want to kill him, but if Stiles was actually asking for help... who was he to deny his mate? He lifted his hand tentatively as he kept his eyes locked with the beta’s, palm brushing up along the underside of the length before he curled his fingers around it, “Don’t be embarrassed.”

Stiles found himself comforted at once by the ease of the older man, his confidence and assurances. It made him feel like asking for help from Peter wasn’t such a bad thing, like maybe he’d done it before, maybe too many times to count. He stared back into those ice blue eyes, remembering how they were the first thing he remembered at all, before waking after the shot. Just those blue eyes, and how important it was to see them. His heart rate slowed somewhat, just for a moment as he felt eased, comforted by the alpha. He nodded, blinking to look down at the hand on his dick.

Stiles would likely get suspicious over how well Peter knew his body, but it was a risk he was willing to take in order to please the beta. He pulled his hand back and licked his palm, grabbing the length up again before looking at his mate pointedly, “Pay attention.”

He pumped the length slowly, thumb brushing over the plush head and rolling the foreskin back down, free hand teasing the knot lightly. Part of the alpha was kind of excited, because even though Stiles couldn’t remember they were mated, this was still an experience he got to share with his mate.

“Oh my God,” Stiles looked down, trying to watch, but it was difficult when Peter was making him feel more intensely than he... remembered he had. He sat up on his elbows, watching as the older man expertly worked his dick in a way he didn’t really think was possible. He reached down, fingers brushing the back of the alpha’s hand tentatively as he observed the way Peter was touching him.

Peter focused his right hand more intently on the tip, wrist flicking, pulling the foreskin up over it on every other up stroke. “When it comes to knots,” the alpha murmured, glancing at Stiles and taking his hand, having him wrap his own fingers around the knot, “Not everyone likes the same thing. Some like to squeeze it, some like feather light touches, but if you’re anything like me...” he covered Stiles’s hand with his own and guided his fingers, rubbing firm circles into the tightened skin, “You’ll like that... but try to find what works best for you.”

Stiles gasped and his eyes widened as he watched their hands. He tried to imitate the motions on his own, but he was having a hard time concentrating. He shook his head slightly, mindlessly turning into Peter’s neck and breathing the older man in. He didn’t really know why he did it, it was just... kind of... pulling at him. His mouth opened, closing on the alpha’s neck as he started sucking the skin between his teeth.

“Stiles,” Peter gasped, hand faltering just slightly and he clenched his eyes shut, because he was sure this was passing some sort of moral boundary.

The alpha tilted his head away and stared at the beta, shaking his head minutely and wishing so badly he could just let himself enjoy it, “This is about re-learning yourself, not me.” He brushed the younger man’s nose with his own before looking back down at the beta’s cock, “Try to pay attention so you’ll know what works.”

Stiles felt the flash before a memory hit, of Peter’s tone of voice, ‘Stiles’,a press of lips firm against his own, arms around him from behind, and then another memory of something else... tears on his cheeks, hands holding him firmly in place, he couldn’t breathe.

Stiles blinked as he looked at the alpha in confusion, his heart racing, but he turned onto his back once more, trying to concentrate on getting off, and learning about himself, instead of trying to remember things he barely understood.

Peter increased his pace, drawing the strokes out, long and slow, occasionally covering Stiles’s fingers around his knot with his other hand. He was already impressed with how long he’d lasted, having expected the beta to practically bust within the first minute.

“I’m a bit distracted,” Stiles all but huffed, shaking his head, “I don’t normally take this long, and this feels really good,” he bunched his brows together in frustration, trying to ignore the sudden flood of nonsense memories, “I just keep getting these flashes and they’re... really uncomfortable.”

“Maybe we should stop, then,” Peter offered, frowning and stilling his hand as he looked at his mate, “You’re probably going to be late for class at this rate, anyway.” If the flash backs were uncomfortable, it probably wasn’t a good idea to continue, regardless.

“No, no, I have to get off, dude, you don’t understand,” Stiles looked at Peter, “We’ll... figure this thing out later, can you just get me off?” it sounded horrible coming out like that, “That sounded bad,” he blushed, “But could you?”

Peter chuckled at the color rising in the beta’s cheeks and nodded, tightening his grip on Stiles’s cock once more, replacing the younger man’s hand with his other, “Yeah, try to enjoy it, don’t think too much.” The alpha worked both the knot and the length in unison, the pads of his fingers massaging into the growing knot, pace increasing.

Stiles relaxed as he let Peter take care of him, his legs shook as he watched his knot swell and it was literally like watching your dick transform before your eyes. He was so focused on it that when Peter looked back at him, he gasped.

“Come,” Peter commanded softly, eyes flashing bright crimson.

The alpha’s voice brought a sharp memory of his voice before, ‘Come for me, Stiles,’ which made him realize that they had likely fooled around, to some extent. He saw Peter’s eyes flash and his mouth popped open, “Oh,” his knees bent slightly, toes curling, eyes almost closing as he stared back and came.

Peter smirked when the scent of the beta’s release hit his nose, feeling the warmth of it spread over his fingers before pulling away slowly, “Feel better?” he glanced up at the alarm clock on his mate’s headboard, “Because we’ve got about half an hour to get you to class and it’s a forty-five minute drive.”

Stiles sighed and stretched, turning over to... he looked around in confusion, settling for wiping himself off on his sheets, “I’m less practical than I used to be,” he mumbled as he scratched his neck, “They can just deal with me being late, I was shot and killed yesterday.”

Stiles moved to his drawer, “What the fuck do I normally wear, anyway?”

“It varies, really,” Peter said, finally standing from the bed again, “You’re lack of a certain style always has frustrated me.”

The alpha moved over to where Stiles was and pulled the darker pair of jeans out of the drawer, shoving them at his mate’s chest, “Wear those, you look good in them.” he then moved over to the closet and pulled out what used to be Stiles’s favorite plaid button down, “And this,” he extended the shirt to the younger man.

“I’m really starting to wonder when the hell I changed my wardrobe,” Stiles said, shrugging and getting dressed, “My sneakers got ruined, though, so do I have like,” he leaned over and checked under the bed, grinning and shouting victoriously as he pulled up his converses, “Yup, that’s what I thought.”

He grabbed his socks and looked around, “Uh, I can put them on in the jeep, they’ll take a while.”

Peter shook his head as he grabbed another shirt from Stiles’s closet for himself, pulling it on shamelessly over the fitted black t-shirt, “Your jeep isn’t here, we’re taking my car.” He wrinkled his nose at the converses and stole a pair of jeans as well, “We’ll have to go get it after you get out of class.”

Stiles frowned in confusion as he looked at Peter, “Why isn’t my jeep here?” he tilted his head, “Is it in for repairs or something? Who the Hell drove me to my house?” he was seriously having a hard time catching up with himself on his logic, first the laptop, then the jeep, how did he even function without either of those?

“No,” Peter shook his head, “It’s at my house, and you came here with Derek. Isaac, Boyd, Scott, and I all rode together behind you.” He pulled the jeans on over the pajama bottoms and slid his feet into his stained up leather shoes, tilting his head up to look at Stiles, “You ready?”

“I’m waiting on you, Princess,” Stiles said, motioning to the door before reaching out to open it.

Derek climbed into the passenger’s side of Peter’s car, looking over to his uncle warily, frowning as he cleared his throat, “He can’t be left alone,” he said in annoyance, “And he’s pissed at me. I hate to say it, but I think he’d actually listen to you over me at this point.”

The alpha sat there for a moment as he tried to think of what to do, “He doesn’t like it, and neither do I, but you should stay with him. Scott knows him, but Scott has a life, and you - coincidentally - don’t. Not only that, but you know him, you know what he does on a day to day basis, and you’re the only one that does.”

Peter turned in his seat to look at Derek, chuckling dryly, “You think he’d listen to me?” he asked incredulously, “He just tried to kill me.”

He glared at the other alpha, “In his mind, I’m still the creepy asshole from three years ago, Derek.” And he wasn’t sure if he could stomach the way Stiles would inevitably look at him, with fear and disgust.

“He’s your mate,” Derek said, tone darkening, “You knotted him, you’re responsible for him.” He glared at his uncle, “Those memories aren’t gone, they’re likely just suppressed. The only way to maybe help him remember you again is by reminding him of things. And the sooner the better, I haven’t seen him aim that horribly since he was eighteen years old.”

“Fine,” Peter gritted out, gripping the steering wheel and looking out the window, “I’ll do it, but would you mind having Scott at least forewarn him. The last thing I want right now is to be shot at again.” His nephew did have a point, he was sure that he’d read somewhere about how familiarity can sometimes help people who suffer from amnesia. It definitely wouldn’t hurt to at least give it a chance, to try and help his mate remember.

“I don’t think you have to worry about the gun,” Derek rolled his eyes, “He’s a horrible shot. But I’ll have Scott tell him something; that you’ve got free time on your hands.”

He looked to Peter sternly then, “And if I hear about you putting marks on his neck before his memory is completely back, I’m going to rip out your steering column and clean your rib cage with it. Don’t touch him, he’s vulnerable, and so is the rest of the pack until he’s fixed. Keep him in your sight at all times, he could get himself killed.”

“You know how much I care for him, do you really think I’d try to make advances on him before he gets his memories are back?” Peter asked, huffing and shaking his head, “The lack of faith you have in your own blood is astounding, I’m so proud to call you my nephew.”

Stiles sat on the couch, arms folded over the knees pressed to his chest as he watched Peter nervously. They’d been sitting still for the better part of an hour in silence. Stiles didn’t really know what else to do, he’d thought Peter would just tell him to do something and he could just do it, but he was starting to think it didn’t work that way.

Finally, he spoke up, “So... you’re like... reformed, or something?”

“Reformed,” Peter repeated softly, trying not to smile from his seat in the recliner, “Yes, I guess you could say that.” The silence between them had almost been deafening, so the fact that the beta spoke up first was actually a relief.

“When did you come back?” Stiles asked out of curiosity now, it finally getting the better of him, “I mean, was it recent? When did you become part of the pack?”

“Just after things died down with Jackson. You at least remember the whole Kanima fiasco, correct?” Peter asked, somewhat pleased that Stiles was actually asking questions as opposed to aiming a gun at him, “It was just after that... when I became a more official part of the pack, I mean. I helped Derek find a way to save Jackson, instead of killing him.”

Stiles nodded slowly, “I don’t uh... remember finding out about Jackson, but Scott told me, friggin’ weird,” he took a breath and narrowed his brows, “So are you two like... joint alphas or something? How does that even work? Are you an alpha still?”

“Joint alphas is a good way to put it, I suppose,” Peter agreed, turning a little in the recliner to look at Stiles, “Though, I’m sure Derek’s word means more to you all than mine does, save maybe Scott, but that’s just because he’s the one who turned most of you. And I am still an alpha, surprisingly.”

“‘Most of you’,” Stiles scoffed and looked away bitterly, “I don’t even feel like one of them; I’m not. I didn’t want this.” Now he knew what Scott felt like in the beginning, being brought into it unwillingly.

“You wouldn’t have said that a week ago, so I’m going to choose to ignore it,” Peter said, turning away since Stiles had looked elsewhere, “You’ve told me personally that they’re all like family to you - more than, even.”

Stiles couldn’t really think of something that was more than family, but he didn’t like how confident Peter was about his feelings, “You think you know me so well,” he said softly, staring out of the window, “Do you think I would’ve wanted the bite?”

“I know you didn’t want it,” Peter sighed and shrugged, “But for once in my life, I’m going to have to side with my nephew on the choice he made. I, for one, am glad you’re still alive. I think I can speak for the rest of the pack in saying they are as well.”

Stiles raised a brow, “You’re glad?” and he knew the older man wasn’t lying to him, which made him even more uncomfortable, “Why? Why are you even good? What changed?”

“A lot of things changed,” Peter said, ignoring the first question, “But mostly, I realized that in order to attain the future I wanted, I’d have to repent. That, and a lot of the things I did back then I did out of blind rage. Not excusable, I know, but still.”

Stiles understood the feeling of doing bad things out of blind rage, he hadn’t gone to Peter’s extent, ever, but he could understand it, “Do we get along? You and me? Do I like you?”

“Stiles,” Peter exhaled and closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head before meeting the younger man’s eyes, “I don’t really think that’s a discussion we should have right now, maybe another time.”

“Why not? It’s just a simple question,” Stiles started in confusion, looking at the alpha speculatively, “Do we get along? Can I stand you? That’s all I wanna know. I just wanna know that... if I had my memories, would I trust you, that’s all.”

“We get along great, actually,” Peter offered, frowning at the younger man when he felt the longing, the pull to his mate, “I’d like to think you’d trust me, you’ve told me you do before.”

Stiles listened to Peter’s heart beats and didn’t hear a change, he combed his fingers though his hair. If he didn’t trust himself, who could he trust? And then it got him wondering, even worrying, “Am I a good person, still?”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked, furrowing his brows, “Are you asking if you’re a good person now that you’re a werewolf, or are you asking if you’re a good person in general? Because the answer is the same for both questions; you’re stubborn as hell, but you’re a good person; you have a heart of gold.”

The older man was speaking almost reverently about him, and Stiles nodded again, more in confirmation now, taking in Peter’s words and allowing himself to finally relax. He’s pretty sure Peter was sarcastic there at the end, but the rest sounded fine.

Stiles felt the tears prick his eyes again, his body trembling and he took in his bottom lip to try and stop it from shaking uncontrollably, “I’m sorry I tried to shoot you.”

“It’s okay,” Peter said at once, frowning and fighting the urge to move to his mate, to console him, “I’m not mad at you, I could never be. It has to be scary, to not remember, to be missing such a huge gap in your memory. Your reaction was understandable.”

Stiles pulled in gasps of air, wiping the tears from his cheeks as he shook his head, “I’ve never felt so lost in my entire life,” he laughed harshly as he cried, “Or at least I don’t think I have. I’m missing like three years of memories to draw experience from,” he tried to breathe, feelings finally hitting him as he thought about it all.

“You-” Stiles shook, “You wanna know what it feels like? It feels like finding out I’ve been shot, that someone tried to kill me, and washing I don’t know how many liters of blood off my body. It feels like walking into my bedroom and trying to figure out where everything is, and hating my clothes, and having to actually wash my hair.”

He pulled his knees closer as he gasped in pain, his chest aching from keeping his breath in as he was talking, “It feels like these flashes of something-something horrible happening to me, and I can’t figure out what it is or who did it, but I know it’s bad.

“Scary doesn’t even cover it. I don’t even know how I should feel. All I know is that I’m still pissed at Scott for hanging up on me.”

“Well, it may seem scary,” Peter said, moving slowly from his recliner to take a seat at the far end of the couch, “But you have a pack that’s here for you, and we all love you. This isn’t something you have to suffer alone with.”

“All I’m doing is suffering it alone,” Stiles said, looking at Peter, face red, tears on his cheeks, “None of you are going through this like I am. Everyone else just goes home, goes off and does their own things, moves on.

“And I’m stuck here, a seventeen year old me stuck in a twenty year old me’s body, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know what I’m suppose to do tomorrow. I’m normally a busy person, so obviously I’ve got something... I don’t even know how to use my fucking phone, and they stick me with you, because you have nothing better to do,” he breathed and looked away.

“You’re not suffering it alone,” Peter argued, feeling the ache in his chest even as he said it, “And that’s not why they asked me to do it. They asked because I know your schedule better than the rest, I can make sure you get to where you need to be. And it’s imperative that you stick to the schedule, you’re more likely to remember that way.”

Stiles wet his lips as he wiped his face, feeling a bit confused about why Peter, of all of the pack, would know his schedule. He didn’t argue it though, he knew the alpha wasn’t lying. He looked at the time and turned to the older man, “It’s getting late. Do you know when my dad gets home? Or where I’d be? Because I have no clue.”

Peter didn’t volunteer the part where Stiles would normally be at his place this time of night. Instead, he tried to keep it relatively simple to refrain from confusing his mate, “He gets off work in about an hour. If you want, you could always just go ahead and call it a night. You do have classes in the morning.”

“Uh... classes?” Stiles felt his heart race nervously, “You mean like... like college? Like I don’t remember my schedule or even know what I’m doing in courses, that college?”

“Yes,” Peter confirmed, reaching across the back of the couch to pat the beta on the back just once, “But don’t fret, I’ll take you to each and every one. All you have to do is find a seat in the back and look pretty, you’ll remember soon enough.”

Stiles moved from the couch, looking the house over and raising a brow as he realized someone had lowered a picture frame to cover his gun shot on the wall. He took a collective breath, “Alright, well... you look like you murdered someone, so go ahead and shower, umm... you’re staying, right? You’ll be here?

“My dad probably won’t like the idea of a man nearly his age staying at the house. I’d rather you be in my room before he even gets here. I... I don’t wanna be awake when he gets home.”

“I’ll need to run home for a change of clothes,” Peter mused, standing up from the couch, “Will you be alright by yourself for about fifteen minutes?” he asked, uneasy with the idea of leaving his mate alone.

“Umm...” Stiles considered it before shaking his head, “Actually, I don’t think so... could you just... like... wear a pair of mine or something? Just until tomorrow? My pajamas are normally loose, I think... he won’t mind.”

Peter narrowed his eyes at Stiles curiously, considering it and nodding, because being surrounded by his mate’s scent when he couldn’t physically touch him was the next best thing, “Sure,” the alpha agreed. “I get to be a stowaway, how fun,” he chuckled, smile fading as he met Stiles’s eyes, “You’re not going to force me to sleep in your closet or something, are you?”

“No, dad doesn’t just walk into my room, not at seventeen, I doubt at twenty,” Stiles shrugged as he moved to the stairs, “Just do whatever you think normal me would be fine with. I... really have no judgement with you further than that... Like, at all. I’m pretty sure you know a lot better than I do what he’s okay with.”

Peter didn’t like the fact that Stiles was now referring to himself as someone else, and he knew that the younger man wouldn’t be comfortable with their normal routine, “I’ll just sleep on the floor,” he said, gesturing to the stairs, “Clothes, then?”

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles walked upstairs, the older man not too far behind.

He stopped in the room for a moment, looking around at everything before he moved to his drawers, opening the–his face flushed and he closed it quickly, “One second,” he said, pressing his lips together as he tentatively opened the next.

Stiles stuck his tongue out, reaching in, and then around, before grabbing the pinstriped pajama bottoms and one of his sleep shirts. He turned to Peter, cheeks glowing red as he held out the clothes, “If I’m... anything like I was, these should,” he looked over the alpha’s body, then his own, “They should be fine.”

Peter nodded, because it wouldn’t necessarily be the first time they’d worn one another’s clothing, “Right.” He took the clothes and tucked them under his arm, looking back over his shoulder towards the door, “Where do you normally keep your towels and such?”

“There’s a closet opposite of the bathroom, guest towels - aka Scott’s - are on the top, I think,” Stiles said somewhat unsurely.

Stiles turned the moment he heard the bathroom door close, opening back up the top drawer and pausing for a moment as he took his time to observe. He couldn’t really come to a conclusion, all he could think was either he got bored some times, or he had a hard time getting off these days , or maybe he was alone too much, but his cheeks heated again and he closed the drawer once more.

He moved to his desk and paused, looking around because he couldn’t find a computer of any kind. Normally it was just his laptop, and the space was made for one, but it wasn’t in his room.

Stiles frowned in confusion and sighed, moving back to the bed and climbing in. It was larger than it’d been before, clearly he’d felt the need to size up, and Stiles couldn’t think - for the life of him - why he’d’ve want a bigger bed. He felt like he was going to get lost in it or something.

Peter grabbed a towel and a wash cloth from the hall closet, sauntering into the bathroom and closing the door behind himself. He caught a glimpse of his reflection before he stripped down, eyes widening as he took in the blood on his face... Stiles’s blood.

He swallowed sickly, remembering all of it, the look on his mate’s face when he saw him laying there helpless. Peter liked to think he was handling this well, all things considered - at least on the outside, for sure, but on the inside he was a wreck.

The alpha stripped and climbed into the shower, turning the water on and rinsing himself clean, scrubbing the dried blood out from underneath his nails. Peter cut the water and climbed out when he was done, toweling himself dry and putting Stiles’s clothes on. He didn’t even bother slicking his hair back like he usually did, and it fell down around his forehead and cheeks in tousles as he left the bathroom.

Peter put the towel and wash cloth in the hamper just outside the bathroom door before jogging down the stairs to toss his clothes in the garbage, taking them two by two until he was in the younger man’s room, again.

“I suppose it wouldn’t be too much to hope you have an extra blanket, would it?” he asked, standing in the middle of the room.

Stiles was spacing when Peter came in and practically startled him half to death. He’d been so concentrated on the bed that he wasn’t listening. He nodded first and then shook his head, “Forget the floor, just sleep on the other side, this thing is huge.”

Peter didn’t second guess the offer, didn’t hesitate at all and he moved to climb into the bed, glancing at Stiles just briefly before tugging some of the covers up around his hips, “Thank you, the floor probably would’ve given me a stiff neck.”

“No problem,” Stiles said lightly and then he turned to look at Peter, staring at the alpha for a moment, “So, I have uh... another question. If you and me are so close, did I ever tell you why I lied to you about the bite? I mean, obviously I didn’t want it, not really. But did I ever say why it was lying, then?”

“There is no ‘if’ about it,” Peter said, rolling to his side to look at Stiles, “We are close, trust me.”

He smiled just faintly, “Let me see if I can remember correctly,” the alpha muttered, thinking about how Stiles had worded it when he told him, “You lied because... you sort of liked the idea of being a werewolf, all the shiny bells and whistles that came along with it, but you didn’t like all of the cons. You were attracted to me, slightly intimidated, even; and you wanted to say ‘yes’, to have a connection with me; but you said ‘no’, because you thought it was ‘fucked up’ to be interested in someone like me - someone dangerous.”

Stiles swallowed and nodded, “That’s right, I told you that?” he didn’t wait for Peter to answer, “Why would I even tell you that? How the fuck close are we?” he couldn’t imagine himself opening up to Peter in that way, especially considering all of the things he never told Scott.