#httwfest

-

Stiles’ jeep rumbled loudly down the winding road into town. He had always prefered taking the backroads around town. They were quiet, well as quiet as something can be when there are croaking frogs and screaming bugs, beautiful little trails through the forest that always seemed to be just barely restrained by industry and society.

Stiles cursed under his breath when he noticed how low the needle of his fuel gauge was, and where that meant he had to go. Only one gas station was anywhere near him, and it just had to be the one owned by the Hales’. Stiles started immediately mentally kicking himself for not filling up at the chain gas station when he was in town the other day.

Gas being almost three dollar a gallon was frankly horse shit and Stiles felt personally victimized since he lived a solid thirty minutes from any gas stations, even further to school or work. Hale’s Station wasn’t the most expensive in these parts, but it certainly wasn’t cheap and Stiles’ wallet was already weeping at the money he was about to drop.

Stiles pulled out onto the main road and made his way to his doom hoping against hope that Derek and Cora would be running it today not Peter or Laura, who both loved to tease Stiles until his face was burning and he wanted to disappear on the spot. When Stiles pulled up to the pump he breathed a sigh of relief because Derek was sitting at the register. Cora normally ran the pumps while Derek ran the register, so Cora was probably in the restroom or something. Stiles hopped out of his jeep and started for the door of the little convenience store to talk to Derek, but was stopped by an arm wrapping around his waist and pulling him back into a very hard chest.

“Well if it isn’t Little Red. We missed you somethin’ fierce the other day when you ran away to the locker rooms.” Peter’s honeyed voice washed over Stiles, send warm sparks down his bones.

Stiles forced himself to relax, he wouldn’t look weak in front of a Hale. Hale’s didn’t respond well to yellow bellied fools and Stiles was definitely not showing his yellow belly to Peter Hale most of all.

He dropped his head slightly back onto Peter’s shoulder to look the older boy in the eye before declaring, “I didn’t run. I had to go clean up the locker room.”

“Well that’s a fib if I ever heard one darlin’. Try again.” Peter hummed in Stiles’ ear turning his bones to jelly.

“You’re a damn fool Peter Hale. You’ll get us both in trouble with you’re hellish ways and I’m not gonna fight my daddy for some devilish boy with a wicked grin and candied nothings.” Stiles huffed before removing himself from Peter’s embrace.

Peter’s quiet laughter followed Stiles inside the little store where Stiles was met by The Disapproving Brows.

“I don’t know what's got your knickers in a twist, but that uncle of yours really gets my goose and your momma ought to have a talk with him about wearing proper britches. It’s indecent.” Stiles snapped as he approached the counter and the grumpy boy behind it.

“My momma ain’t got no way to control that boy. He could drive a preacher to cuss if you left ‘em alone together.” Derek chuckled and shook his head affectionately.

“Alright dumplin’ I filled you up nice and full.” Peter said, abruptly appearing behind Stiles and dragging a suggestive hand down Stiles’ spine, “He owes you $43.56 Der.”

Stiles flushed from the tips of his ears down to the tips of his toes. Where did Peter get off talking like that? He was going to put Stiles in an early grave at this rate.

“Now Peter listen here.” Derek started, but was cut off by Peter winking at Stiles and striding out the door.

Stiles handed Derek his debit card and signed the receipt quietly, still trying to calm his racing heart.

“He’s just teasing me Derek. It’s okay. It’s fun to pick on me I guess.” Stiles chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and making his exit with one final shrug.

-

Football was not something Stiles could be bad at. It simply was not allowed. From the age of six boys were expected to play football, some played other sports as well but everyone played football. It was impossible to be bad at something you’ve always done. Stiles wasn’t amazing, but he was still starting line, which was pretty impressive if you asked him.

Friday night’s game was brutal. The Cyclones were going against the only other school in the county, the pompous rude ass Yellow Jackets. Stiles tried to stay above the school rivalry thing, but the Yellow Jackets always played rougher when they faced the Cyclones. Stiles always seemed to get hit the hardest for some reason, probably an unlucky great great grandfather or something had cursed him. The Cyclones won by seven points and Stiles had never been happier when the buzzer finally sounded the end of the game. Fireworks started going off, but Stiles’ head was still buzzing after that last tackle by the mountain of a seventeen year old they dubbed “The Bull” so he couldn’t enjoy them like usual.

The cheerleaders and the twenty benched players ran out to the middle of the field to congratulate each other.

“Stiles that was a brutal ass tackle man! He took you down faster than a hot knife through butter.” Erica cackled.

“You definitely have a concussion.” Lydia supplied unhelpfully.

Stiles found himself slumping against Scott’s unyielding back in defeat

“Thank fuck for werewolf strength.” Stiles murmured blearily as Scott continued to move them through the crowd to get to the rest of their friends.

“You know born wolves are stronger.” Came Peter’s silken voice from behind Stiles.

“They are not you egg suckin’ liar.” Scott snapped as he maneuvered Stiles’ exhausted body so that he was leaning against Scott’s side and could properly look at Peter.

All werewolves present immediately realized how much of a mistake that was when Stiles finally took in the sight of Peter sweaty and slightly winded, his hair a mess and face flushed. Stiles was too tired to try to control his reaction to the older boy so he straightened up and tried to walk away. Unfortunately Peter knew he was going to run away again and grabbed Stiles’ elbow.

“Before you skedaddle I wanted to invite you to my party at our lake house this weekend.” Peter asked with something akin to bashfulness.

“I’ll be there Hale. Try to wear something that isn’t tight enough to see your religion.” Stiles replied with a smile before stepping out of his grasp and heading for the locker rooms to shower.

-

Stiles put on his jeans and the most absurd shirt he owned, which just so happened to also look amazing on him, and raced down the stairs. Tonight was Peter’s party and Stiles was tired of playing games, it was time to tell Peter to stop teasing him just because he wanted an ego boost. If Peter wasn’t actually teasing Stiles but genuinely flirting with him then Stiles was going to climb that boy like a tree.

“Well look at you two! What a mighty fine couple you make!” Stiles cooed from his window as Scott and Allison walked to his jeep from Scott’s house, they always seemed to wear complementary outfits and it was both adorable and disgusting.

“Thank you Stiles! What are you wearing? That shirt looks like it got hit with the ugly one too many times.” Allison said with a small, amused smile as she lifted herself into the passenger seat.

“It’s my first date shirt! If this doesn’t run ‘em off then my babbling won’t either!” Stiles grinned at his friends and winked before putting the car in drive.

The Hale house was a huge plantation style mansion, but their lake house was much more modern. Stiles wasn’t a fan of sleeping in the Hale house even when Derek had invited him over for slumber parties when they were younger, the house just seemed so haunted that Stiles always had the heebie jeebies inside it. The lake house was all sleek counters and fancy flooring, completely new and unhaunted. Stiles was perfectly content to get raging drunk where no potential ghosts could mess with him.

“We’re going to go find Lydia and the puppies. Peter's probably wherever they're playing beer pong. Good luck Stiles!” Allison gave his cheek a kiss and pushed him into the crowd of people before she and Scott went the other direction in search of their friends.

Stiles was nervous enough that he was flushed and slightly shaky by the time he saw the beer pong table. Derek was going against his sister Laura with a determined look on his face, which was honestly adorable.

“We've been stuck on the last cups for too long. That's it! I'm calling celebrity shot. Peter get over here!” Derek declared motioning for Peter to join him.

“That's not fair! Peter is banned from celebrity shots after the summer of ‘05 and you fucking know it you snake! I hope you gave your heart to Jesus cause after this game your ass is mine little brother!” Laura shouted angrily as Peter smugly walked over to Derek's end of the table.

“Not uncle Peter. Derek just boosted that son of a bitches ego when he already walks around with his nose so high in the air he could drown in the rain.” Cora Hale groaned from somewhere beside Stiles.

The combination of both Hale girls’ cutting remarks made Stiles throw his head back with loud laughter. He loved these fierce people and he especially loved how much they picked on Peter.

Stiles opened his eyes as Laura let out a triumphant yell. And his brain immediately took in the scene before him.

Peter had missed the shot.

Laura had sunk her ball in Derek's last cup.

Peter was staring at Stiles with a heated gaze.

Stiles had distracted Peter and made him miss the shot.

Stiles flushed all over as he met Peter's blazing gaze.

“Stiles.” the word flowed from Peter's lips like a prayer, like Stiles was his only salvation.

“Well that's enough of that.” Cora said roughly as she hip checked Peter out of the way and towards Stiles.

With Peter so close Stiles was having a hard time remembering the rant he had planned.

Peter's intense gaze broke as his eyes dropped to Stiles’ chest, “Is your shirt just a bunch of Nicolas Cage faces?”

Stiles was immediately brought out of his trance and grinned like the devil at Peter.

“You bet your sweet ass it is. What do you think?” Stiles asked pulling his shirt out a little to get a better look.

“I think it'd look better on the floor of my bedroom.” Peter leaned into Stiles’ space with a suggestive tug on the bottom of his shirt.

“Now you listen here Peter Hale. I have just about had it with you constantly teasing me about my crush and I think it's well past time that you quit playing games with me.” Stiles huffed angrily and crossed his arms.

“What if I'm not playing games Stiles? What if I actually do want to be with you? What if all I want right now is to get you out of that horrendous shirt and into my bed?” Peter asked more softly than one would expect when saying such sexual things.