#verdantmoth

He angsted over his future as he picked apples from the Hale orchard. The Hales were long time companions of the Stilinskis, and Stiles enjoyed the peaceful, clean aroma of the farm. His ranch always smelled of feces and rotting things, but here in the Hale’s orchard he could take in the sweet smell of the fruit bearing flora around him. His great grandfather had bartered with the Hale alpha almost a hundred years ago to trade freely between the ranch and their orchard, it had been a gift through the years of drought and disease when both families had to lean on the other. 

He hummed quietly to himself as he picked a ripe red apple, a sense of ease seeping into the tension in his shoulders. 

“Hello, little mischief.” Peter’s low rumble sent a shock of excitement through him causing him to startle. 

“Peter! I’ll fall over dead one of these days if you insist on sneaking up on me all the time!” Stiles laughed, his cheeks flushing. 

“We couldn’t have that now, could we?” Peter asked, stepping forward with a smirk on his face. 

“Oh hush now. I simply cannot play with you today, I am much too distraught.” Stiles huffed, crossing his arms despite the basket on one making it awkward. 

Peter stepped even closer to gently rub Stiles’ arms soothingly, “What has you so upset, pet?”

Stiles allowed himself a moment to cherish Peter’s touch, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stay in Peter’s favor this way once he was married. 

“I believe I have pushed my poor father’s patience too far and he is trying to marry me off.” Stiles mumbled, unable to look up into Peter’s beautiful, caring blue eyes. 

One of the hands on his arms pulled away to pet his hair softly as Peter made a contemplating sound. 

“I have no answers. We follow the orders of the people in charge of our well being and trust they care about our happiness as much as theirs." 

The hand on Stiles’ head smoothed down his hair and rested on his neck as Peter’s other hand came up and lifted Stiles’ face by his chin. 

"Now listen to me, my little mischief, your father loves you more than anything in this world. He will not marry you to someone who will hurt you or take you away from him. I would bet my life on it. You are as precious to him as he is to you. No one will separate you.” Peter’s words washed over Stiles in a wave of gentle yet fierce assurance. 

Before Stiles could so much as thank the werewolf for his kindness Peter was shushing him and staring in the direction of the ranch. 

“Your father is calling for you. Best you get home, little one.” Peter pulled his hands away slowly and stepped away from him with a soft smile. 

“Thank you, Peter.” Stiles beamed at the older man before heading towards his home. 

-

“Stiles don’t turn away from me! We need this. We need help on the ranch. If you were to be married our ranch becomes your and your partner’s. That means more hands to help with the cattle and the other animals. Please see reason.” Stiles refused to turn around and look at him, but the crack in his father’s voice almost broke him. 

“I see reason, father. Marry me off. I will be a doting husband and worship the ground our savior walks on.” Stiles spit out through clenched teeth. 

“You are not being fair. I did not wish this for you, but no one could’ve foreseen the losses we have endured. I never thought we could have lost so-” A shaky breath, “so many of your siblings." 

Another pause as his father drew in a sharp, wet breath, "Or your mother. You were supposed to be our baby forever. Always with us, always protected. We’d already lost your older brother, you were our saving grace. You still are Mieczyslaw." 

His father reached out and held his arm tightly, a desperate reach for something to connect him to his last living child, "Please.”

The fight whooshed out of Stiles in the release of the angry breath he’d taken to yell moments before. He couldn’t stand to see his father in such pain. He would not be the cause of it. 

“I will do it. I do not want a debutante, or a meeting of the suitors. You know my tastes as well as I. I will meet them for the courting rituals and then I will decide if I will marry or not.” Stiles sighed, turning to hug his father his anger fading. 

“Thank you, my sweet son”

-

The likelihood of the suitor being female was high if his father was looking for someone who would give up their home and move to the ranch, which is why Stiles was surprised to feel a strong, callused hand grip his in greeting. 

The first step in courting was the blind meeting, allowing the couple to connect without the lens of shallow appearances. Stiles was currently blindfolded and standing uncomfortably in the middle of the parlor room, one hand out stretched and shaking the stranger he would soon marry’s hand. 

“It’s nice to meet you. Can we sit now?” Stiles asked, his feet shifting anxiously beneath him. 

His suitor chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that caused a blush to creep up Stiles’ neck, before gently guiding Stiles to one of the nearby chairs and releasing him as he sat down. 

“Is that better?” The stranger had a deep melodious voice, that Stiles rather liked. 

“Yes. Thank you, good sir." 

"Call me Peter, pet." 

Stiles had ripped off the blindfold before Peter had finished speaking, shock striking him dumb. 

Peter Hale was grinning at him from across the table set with tea. The grin that over took Stiles’ face was so broad it ached, but he did not care. 

"Peter! I thought you were never to marry?” Stiles heard his own breathlessness and blushed further. 

“I knew what your father was seeking in a mate, and taking care of your ranch is a small price to pay to spend the rest of my life with my beautiful little mischief.” Peter’s grin melted into a soft smile as he stared into Stiles’ eyes. 

“What do you say son?” Stiles had forgot his father was still in the room, too caught up in the joy coursing through him. 

“Yes! Of course! I’d be honored to have and love Peter for the rest of my life." 

-

"This is mortifying.” Stiles muttered into his pillow. 

“Now, now, pet don’t be like that. You know we have to do this.” Peter’s voice was soothing, but Stiles could tell the werewolf was laughing at him. 

“I’d hit you if these damn sheets weren’t sewn down between us.” Stiles bit out, turning to glare at his fiance. 

Peter was staring at him with a heated gaze, his eyes flickering a glowing blue, “I would do something much different if the sheets weren’t sewn down between us." 

Was he purring? Could werewolves purr? 

Stiles was knocked out of his heated panicky thought when Alpha Hale chuckled and thumped her brother on the back of the head. 

"That’s why they’re sewn, brother. Behave yourself tonight. And Stiles dear try not to toss and turn so much they’re still sewing your side in." 

Stiles squeaked, having forgotten they were not alone in the face of Peter’s want, and nodded that he would indeed stop squirming. 

"Oh sister you are such a drag. I am not going to ravage the poor boy the night before our wedding. We might be werewolves but we are not animals. I can keep my hands to myself.” Even as Peter spoke those words his hand was testing the strength of the stitch keeping them apart. 

“We will not break the stitch, Alpha.” Stiles smiled at her reassuringly. 

She laughed again, this time throwing her head back with mirth, “Oh you poor sweet boy, you do not know who you are to marry. Peter’s had his eyes on you since you two were young. He will not last long after you are wed." 

Stiles could feel his face burning with embarrassment and arousal. Since they were young? That long? Peter had always been kind and oh so handsome, but Stiles had always thought himself too immature and gangly for the older boy when they were young. Now, both men, he still thought he was not attractive enough for the gorgeous, strong man before him. 

"I wish I could wipe that frown away. Come, let’s see if we can still kiss with this damned sheet between us.” Peter growled, scooting closer to the tenuous wall of sheet. 

Stiles laughed, a happy smile coming to his lips, as he leaned up and across the stitched wall to kiss Peter’s forehead. 

“Now husband, please don’t test your alpha’s patience and be good.” Stiles whispered against his forehead, not ready to pull away.

Peter surged upwards and connected their lips in a passionate embrace. Alpha Hale grabbed Peter by the ear and separated them after a moment, much to both of their disappointment. 

“I won’t say it again. Behave yourself, Peter. Stiles dear, please refrain from teasing him like that he is much too selfish to follow tradition if you taunt him.” She smiled at Stiles and thumped Peter one more time before she left them. 

Now, alone Stiles found himself relaxing into the comforting presence of his soon to be husband. 

“Turn on your side and let me at least pretend to hold you, my sweet mischief. Tomorrow we will be wed and I will be able to hold you as long as I wish, but tonight we will settle for the imitation of that.” Peter insisted warmly. 

Stiles did as he was told, facing away from Peter and scooting carefully back until he could feel the solid heat of his fiance behind him.