What Did You Call Me? |0,867k
Sheriff Stilinski/Peter Hale, Peter Hale&Stiles Stilinski, Sterek | General
Read on AO3 here!
Stiles really had no idea what he had said that could have upset Peter so much.
@scarletwolf213 asked for; Sooo i had this crazy idea pop in my head and had to share and figured i would come beg you to do a fic for it! Please!!! Prompt: Stiles calls Peter papawolf or zombiedad something funny and playful infront of the pack and his dad and peter is just shocked and suprised. There is fluff!! And Peter/John and peter/john& son stiles lots of small family feels! Thank you!!
Stiles had his head bowed, eyes furiously scanning pages and pages of text, scrolling fast enough on the computer that no one else would be able to read the words. Stiles could - though it was taking all his concentration to do so. Because of that, he didnât immediately notice when the room fell silent, not the tense and confused atmosphere that had settled over the room.
What he did notice was Derek loudly clearing his throat, jerking Stiles out of his research haze. He looked up, blinking at the Alpha who stood with his arms crossed, brows drawn low.
âUh-huh?â Stiles mumbled, pen falling from his lips as he began to speak. He stared down at it for a long moment, trying to remember just when he had even acquired a pen.
âWhat did you just say?â Peter snapped. The wolf sounded angry, mad even but Stiles spent enough time with him to know it was more than simple agitation. Peterâs shoulders were drawn up tight, fingers shaking by his sides and his brows were drawn forward, his eyes wrinkling with the expression.
Peter looked hurt, like he did when Derek callously mentioned Laura or when the pack brushed him off as nothing but a killer for doing what needed to be done or, when they plain excluded him, cut him out pack activities with seemingly no thought for the older wolfs feelings.
Stiles hated that he may have been the one to put it there, especially when he had no intention of doing so. Hell, he couldnât even remember what he had said! He sighed, scrubbing his face. He pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes until they sparked with bright spots. He sighed, tried to ease some of the growing tension between his shoulders, picking through the bits in his memory.
God, he could hardly remember what they had been talking about. Sure, he knew he had been an active member of the conversation but he hadnât been focusing on it, all his conscious thought directed at the material he had been reading through. He was sure he and Peter had been bickering - hell, it was their default form of communication - but he wasnât sure what he could have said that was hitting the wolf so hard? He hadnât, god, what had he -
Papawolf. Right. Well, considering he had been referring to Peter as âPapawolfâ in his mind for weeks now, it made sense. He just wasnât sure why Peter appeared so upset by the endearment. Unless Peter wasnât as serious about his dad as his dad was about Peter? It wasnât like he actually expected the man to be his father or anything - it was just, well it was nice. The thought of having two parents again.
âI - was that not okay? I - uh, Iâve been referring to you as that in my head for a while now. I didn't think you would really mind?â Stiles said, blinking again and shaking his head a little. He still felt a little far away, trying to put himself in the present all while filing away everything he had just read about.
Peter must have realized that Stiles was being serious, that he wasnât goading or teasing or trying to hurt because the man outwardly calmed - even if Stiles would have been the only one to pick up on it. He sent Stiles a small grin, far more genuine than any of his usual smirking and Stiles smiled back, though his smile turned teasing.
âPeter, you do realize that I do all the house laundry? And that my father never has, and  probably never will wear v-neck and designer underwear, right?â Stiles drawled, smiling wide.
âWell - no, no I had not realized that.â
âPeter, if my dad is dating Iâm happy itâs to someone I care about. Heâs - he isnât always great with emotion but,â Stiles had to pause for a moment, take a deep breath and let it out slowly, âHe hasnât taken his ring off since my mom died, and he hasnât worn it in more than a week.â
Peter stared at him for a long moment, not moving from his perch against one of the loftâs pillars. Stiles was glad it was only the three of them, Derek looking back and forth between them as if he also hadnât already known what was going on.
âI am quite serious about him as well, if thatâs what you were asking,â Peter said evenly, voice calm even as his body reminded tense.
Stiles just smiled once again, all but giddy, âGood to hear, Papawolf. Us Stilinski-men donât just sleep around, ya know.â Stiles' eyes flickered over to Derek at that, the corner of his mouth twitching up at the soft look on Derekâs face.
âSo, when were you going to tell me you were fucking my dad?â Stiles asked after a comfortable silence, snickering at the pinched look that came over Derekâs face.
âWhen were you going to tell either your father or I that you were fucking my nephew?â Peter smiled right back, smirk sharp and at this Derek choked on nothing, roughly coughing as his face turned bright red.
Peter and Stiles both laughed.
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