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A small child was staring at him.
Peter tried his best not to be overly familiar with children of that size, they tended to be sticky, but he was pretty sure they weren’t generally supposed to be left unattended in malls.
He was also pretty sure that the usual reaction for a child that small being left unattended in a mall was panic, maybe even tears or other bodily fluids. This child however was sitting perfectly calmly on a bench and staring at Peter.
Various scenarios ran through his head. He could leave and pretend he hadn’t noticed her, of course the small piece of conscience he tried to keep repressed rebelled at the idea that he might get home and find out she’d been kidnapped. He could stay where he was, of course a lone man in a crowded public space having a staring contest with a small girl could draw the wrong kind of attention.
Which left the final, and most inconvenient scenario. Getting her to the security desk and making her some else’s responsibility.
Walking towards the bench, he noted that she didn’t take her eyes off him for a moment. It was slightly unnerving behaviour in someone who should have been distracted by shining things and/or panicking at being on her own.
“Do you have a parent?” Peter’s tone was as friendly as he could make it, which was to say not at all friendly.
“Obviously otherwise I wouldn’t exist. In fact, I’d bet at some point at least I had two.” The child was now staring at him like he was an idiot. Peter was compelled despite himself. This little girl was talking to him like she was at least three times her age. There was something unsettling about the way she looked at him as well, like she was an old soul trapped in a small body.
“Yes obviously, I meant more like is there one in the area or did you come here alone?”
“You should say what you mean then. Yes, I came here with my daddy but I lost him.”
She was still just sitting there, swinging her legs and looking totally unconcerned, like she’d just told him the sky was blue.
“Do you mind if I sit?” Peter was surprised at his own words, for some reason this child was making him behave like she was an adult.
“Of course.” The formality of the answer was less of a surprise than it would have been ten minutes ago. He was somehow getting the impression this child had never been sticky in her life. She wouldn’t allow it.
“So did those parents of yours give you a name?”
“Daddy did, my mummy didn’t want me.” The matter-of-fact way she delivered this managed to find something inside Peter’s cold dead heart to break. It didn’t seem to bother her which somehow made it all the more distressing.
“My name is Peter, what’s yours?”
“Claws.”
“Claws?”
“Yes, I have a longer name but I don’t really like it, so daddy calls me Claws.”
“Ok Claws, I think we should get you to the security desk, then they can find your daddy.”
“No thank you, he knows where I am, he’ll worry if he comes back here and doesn’t find me. Also you’re a strange person and I’m not supposed to follow strange people anywhere.” She nodded sagely and continued swinging her legs and staring at Peter. The stare was somehow even more alarming this close. There was knowledge behind those eyes. It must be lonely, Peter thought, having to live with that and wait for everyone else around you to grow up to be on your level.
She reminded him of himself.
“Do you mind if I wait here with you then? There are much stranger people than me in this mall.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”
“You’re smart Claws but smart doesn’t always work against someone bigger than – OW!”
Claws had grabbed his wrist and bent it, expertly pressing in a way that made pain shoot up his arm.
“Grandad’s a policeman. I can also scream really loudly, wanna see?”
“I believe you!” Peter hurriedly cut her off, shaking out his arm. The last thing he wanted was to have to explain a screaming child that wasn’t his to the authorities. She looked like she knew it too. Smug little thing. If they’d grown up together they’d either have killed each other or ruled the world.
“So how long have you been sitting here?” Peter was concerned that her father wasn’t going to come back to this spot but he was hoping he could gently coax her to following him to the security desk after all.
“Not too long, I don’t think. But I’ve been in my head so it could have been ages.”
“In your head?”
“Yeah, I like it there, it’s where all my favourite stories live. Daddy says I lose track of time when I’m in there.”
What a remarkable little girl.
“Tell me one of them, while we wait for you dad?”
“Okay,” she turned to face him, looking more animated than he’d seen her yet, imagination sparkling in her eyes. “so there’s this one where there’s a magic stick.”
“A magic stick?” Peter raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t interrupt until I’ve finished. Yeah, a magic stick. It looks just like all the other sticks, nothing special about it, but there’s this girl and she was born magic but she stored all her powers in the stick so she could be normal like the others and make friends but then she loses the stick and the world starts to end but to save it she has to find the stick again, so everywhere she goes she has to check all of the sticks and make sure they’re not the one.”
“But what if the stick isn’t a stick any more?”
“What?” round eyes looked back at him, he could so picture Claws, out in the park, checking each stick she found, lost in an imaginary world where she had given up on being extraordinary to have friends. The piece of his heart still capable of breaking was getting bigger.
“Well yeah, I mean sticks don’t just stay sticks forever, sometimes bugs eat them or they become books or woodchips for building and playgrounds.”
The eyes somehow got rounder.
“And when bugs die or the woodchips decompose, the magic gets in the earth. And then it’s in the food. Maybe that way other children become magic too, maybe then the girl can be magic and have friends like her.”
Peter was rarely speechless but sat there, looking at this amazing little girl’s excitement at the new part of the story she had created, at the idea that extraordinary people could maybe find friends too, he found himself thoroughly without words.
“CLAWS.”
“DADDY!” Claws finally detached herself from her seat and ran towards a man who was striding urgently towards them.
“I thought you were right next to me and I looked around and you weren’t there anymore, what happened?” He was young, mid-twenties as far as Peter could tell. He must have been very young when Claws was born. The panic was slowly making way for relief.
“I got tired and sat down but you didn’t notice so I waited for you to come back. Peter wanted me to go somewhere else but I said you’d come back looking.”
Claws’s dad looked up, finally noticing Peter sat on the bench and his face slipped into a kind of quiet rage.
“The somewhere else I wanted her to go was the security desk, just to get out ahead of the inevitable angry shouting and phone call to the police.”
The face softened and Peter found himself on the receiving end of a very familiar stare. Those eyes, he was definitely Claws’s dad.
“Sorry, Peter was it? She isn’t always aware of how people interpret what she says. I should be used to it by now but I’ve had a very stressful half-hour.” Then there was a self deprecating smile and a nod downwards at long slender fingers, still shaking, and god, if they’d met under different circumstances Peter would be in trouble with this one.
“I’m Stiles, Stilinski.” the shaking hand raised in an awkward wave.
“Stilinski as in Sheriff?”
“I told you grandad was a policeman.” He was being looked at like he was idiot again.
“Yes, yes you did.” Peter smiled, he’d worked with Noah a while back, he was glad he was still in town. It would make it easier if he already knew the sheriff and knew he was good people.
“Can we get you lunch, to say thank you? I was so worried about her I’m glad someone stayed with her.” There was a glimmer of hope in Stiles’s eyes that Peter was familiar with. He was attractive, he knew that and single men tended to look at him like that a lot. Some of the taken ones too. In any other circumstances he’d say yes. They’d go for lunch, then drinks and then a long weekend in a hotel room somewhere and then their separate ways.
But Stiles came with a kid. A kid Peter liked, sure, but a kid none the less. Kids meant commitment, more than a dirty weekend and that just wasn’t his style.
“As much as I would enjoy that, I really do have to get on with shopping. I’ve just moved back to town and I’d like to have an actual mattress to sleep on by this evening. If I have to spend any more time in my sister’s spare bedroom I’m afraid your father is going to have a murder to investigate.”
Stiles laughed, head thrown back and making Peter almost regret his decision.
“Well, raincheck then. I wouldn’t want to cause the Sheriff’s Department any more work. I hope I’ll see you around Peter.”
“Thank you for helping me with the magic.”
Peter grinned at Claws and walked away, trying to talk himself out of feeling regretful. Stiles was beautiful, sure, but Peter just wasn’t that guy.
...
The second time Stiles met Peter Hale he was dropping by work on his day off to bring his dad lunch.
He’d let the habit slip a bit while Claws was little, but now she was in school he found himself at a loose end on his days off so tended to spend them cooking. Usually he got the weekends, the other deputies happy to take the nights and weekends on the chin so that those of them who were single parents could get home, as much as Stiles would protest against the feeling that he wasn’t pulling his weight.
Barnett was taking his vacation though so Stiles had switched his Wednesday for a Saturday, Claws would be with Faris, another deputy who was raising her daughter on her own, and Faris would cover Sunday while Stiles had the kids.
His day off had therefore seemed more empty than usual without Claws ‘helping’ him in the kitchen. She generally made an appalling mess but she always measured and chopped with such focus and precision it was hard to resent her for it. Although she still had to wear gloves whenever she used the knife. She may be wise beyond her years but she was still six and contrary to popular belief he was a responsible parent.
He was also obsessed with his job so took the opportunity to grab a report from his desk, reading it as he made his way back out of the office when he collided with something. He went to do what he usually did when that happened, one step back, one to the left, try again, if still colliding repeat until it stopped. Scott had called it his Roomba technique.
Whatever he collided with had made a noise however, and in his experience only living things tended to do that, and given that he had walked into it rather than tripping over it, he was guessing it was a human.
Apology already half formed he looked up into a pair of very familiar blue eyes.
“Peter!” He could feel the grin slipping onto his face before he could stop it. He knew if made him look a little goofy but he couldn’t help it. It had been two weeks since the most terrifying half hour of his life and that blue had been haunting his dreams ever since.
After Peter had walked away, Stiles had realised that despite agreeing to a raincheck they hadn’t exchanged any form of contact details. He didn’t even know Peter’s last name.
It had taken two days for him to realise he’d been blown off.
Standing here now though, all of that faded away because against all logic, Stiles was happy to see him.
“I’m so sorry Peter, I was”
“Reading something you should be?” Peter’s eyebrow was doing its best to hit his hairline.
“I should be offended you would assume that but honestly I’m just concerned you seem to know me so well already.” Stiles felt his grin get bigger, Peter’s face slid into what was probably best described as a smirk
“Don’t worry, I’m no snitch.” Stiles was suddenly aware of how close they were standing, when had Peter put his hands on his hips to steady him? Stiles felt like he should have noticed that earlier.
“Stiles?”
“Dad” Stiles jumped back, doing his best impression of a not guilty person. Unfortunately for him his dad had learned to see through that look years ago. Fortunately for him, he’d never been good at pinpointing when that look applied to more than one thing, so he generally missed whatever the second thing was.
“You’re not supposed to be reading that.”
“I know but I just wanted to”
“Go home.”
“Yes sir.” Stiles threw a sloppy salute and made for the exit, winking at Peter on the way past. His dad technically hadn’t told him to put the file down and he was choosing not to lift a gift horse in the mouth, hugging it close to his chest and following instructions.
“Sorry about that Mr Hale, my son thinks he’s too smart for the rules. He also thinks I’m too blind to notice when he breaks them.”
Which was how Stiles found out Peter’s last name and realised exactly why he knew his dad. Newly appointed district attorney Peter Hale. And he’d just watched Stiles break about twelve departmental regulations. Fantastic.
...
Claws was having a quiet night, she had those sometimes when the world got a bit too much and she disappeared inside her own head. Stiles wasn’t too worried, he knew it was a way for her to cope and as far as coping strategies went it wasn’t overly harmful. He’d write her a note for her homework, same as always, and he would get an angry note from her teacher, same as always.
In an ideal world he’d send her to a better school. It wasn’t Mrs Ryan’s fault, her school was over-crowded and underfunded and she just didn’t have the time to spend on Claws that she needed, but he just couldn’t get her to understand that sometimes when Claws was like this, it was best to leave her to it, the world exhausted her so much otherwise.
They were eating dinner, Stiles with a book, Claws off in her own world when the doorbell rang.
...
Peter wasn’t quite sure what had compelled him to come here, he’d gone into a sort of trance and woken up on Stiles’s doorstep with a pie he’d picked up from the local diner like he’d been briefly possessed. He heard the doorbell and realised his hand was pressing it. He pulled himself together as quickly as he could, trying not to stand on the porch gawking like a teenager with a crush.
He was still not interested in pursuing anything with Stiles, no matter how much he’d enjoyed getting his hands on those hips. There’s a child involved, he kept repeating to himself over and over in his head, getting louder as Stiles answered the door in a holey t-shirt and sweatpants, which was oddly charming.
There was something wrong with Peter, there had to be, it was the only explanation. The shirt had tomato sauce on it for god’s sake.
“I was hoping I might exchange some pie for the files you took home illegally?”
Stiles grinned that grin again and it made Peter’s stomach do a thing he didn’t recognise. He ignored it.
“Illegally is a bit strong, ill-advisedly?”
Peter rolled his eyes.
“Can I come in or not.”
“Yeah just, just give me a minute.”
Peter blinked in surprise as the door was shut in his face. It was re-opened again a minute later, Stiles in a different shirt, looking a little out of breath.
“Come on, we can sit in the lounge.”
Peter followed him down a hallway that looked like an explosion had gone off in a shoe factory, except for the corner with neatly hung Sheriff’s department coats and shined boots.
“You live with your dad?” Peter asked, wondering if that was why he was being ushered to the lounge instead of the kitchen.
“Yeah dude, I’ve been bringing up a child on my own since I was nineteen. I’m broke as shit.”
Which brought Peter onto the question that had been in his mind since they entered the house.
“Is Claws here?” It wasn’t like he wanted to see her, he didn’t like children. He was relieved once all his sister’s brood had gone through puberty and had taken to avoiding the house again now that Laura had one of her own. He just wanted to see she was alright was all.
“Yeah she’s just not really up for visitors today, she’s upstairs.”
Peter took the seat on the couch that had been offered to him while Stiles went to fetch plates and forks.
“Do you mind if I take a slice of pie up for her later?” Stiles looked guilty, like he was used to people not indulging him.
“Of course, is she alright? She’s not sick is she?” Peter took his plate of pie from Stiles who started to look even more uncomfortable.
“No, she just gets days where she prefers the quiet, she tends to retreat into her own mind a bit. Sorry.”
“What are you apologising for? Sound to me like she knows herself well enough to know when she needs to recharge her social battery. That’s a rare gift at her age, I wish I’d figured it out that early.”
Stiles was staring at him like he’d just given him a gift. Peter tried not to watch the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallowed, turning his attention towards his pie. When he looked back up it looked like Stiles hadn’t moved an inch and there were tears running down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry did I say something wrong?”
“No” Stiles croaked before clearing his throat and wiping at his face “No, not at all. It’s just people don’t usually get it you know? They think I should force her to be more social or to do her homework even if she’s tired. They think I’m indulging her and that it’s not preparing her for life. You’re the first person outside of family who’s understood her side of it. It was just a surprise is all.”
Peter felt that traitorous piece of his heart twinge again. He felt like he should be holding Stiles. Without feeling him up or anything. There was something seriously wrong with him. Maybe he was sick.
He shifted uncomfortably.
“Well, I should get going. I’m sure if anyone notices the file in the Sheriff’s house they’ll assume everything is above board.”
“Oh okay.” Stiles almost looked disappointed. “Hey, do me a favour and don’t tell my dad you brought pie. He eats way too much sugar, he’d eat half of it in one sitting if left unsupervised. I’ll leave a slice out for him when he gets home in the morning but that’s all he’s getting.”
“There’s fruit on it!”
“Oh my god you sound just like him, get out of my house.” Stiles was laughing now and Peter wasn’t going to examine why that made him feel lighter.
...
The next time they met was at a fire department fundraiser.
The sheriff’s department were expected to drop by to show support but it was on a weekend so Stiles had been planning on taking Claws anyway, Danny had joined the fire department after school and he always made sure to show her around and make her feel special. Danny was an absolute ray of sunshine and Stiles thanked whatever deities had intervened that their friendship hadn’t been ruined by their awkward high-school fumbling.
In retrospect, Stiles should have been prepared to see Peter there. Of course he would be expected to put in an appearance same as the rest of them.
He certainly wasn’t prepared for the way his stomach squirmed when he heard Peter’s voice and he definitely wasn’t prepared for the sight of Peter looking relaxed in Jeans and the sluttiest sweater Stiles had ever seen.
And just when he thought the list of things he hadn’t been prepared for was complete, there was the smile on Peter’s face when he turned and saw the two of them standing there, no hint of his usual smirk, just honest joy.
“Peter!” Claws ran towards Peter before slowly down at a respectful distance and waving enthusiastically. She never was one for hugs.
“Claws” Peter beamed back, taking her cue on the no physical contact, Stiles felt his heart constrict. “How’s the magic?”
“I haven’t found it yet, it must still be making its way into the earth. Soon though, I know it.”
“That’s great Claws. Tell me when you do won’t you.”
“Hey Claws” Stiles had made his way over to them “I think Danny wants to show you the new siren they got since last time.”
“Yessssssss” Claws ran off. For someone who could be so quiet sometimes, she sure enjoyed making very loud noises.
Danny smiled at Stiles before making a very obscene gesture with his hand and mouth once Claws was looking away.
“Oh is he” Peter trailed off, clearly not knowing how he was going to finish the sentence.
“Oh Danny, no we’re just friends he’s just a bit of a slut. He like to take every opportunity to rub it in because my slutty days were depressingly short and ended with a pregnancy, something he never has to worry about.”
He didn’t know if the light was playing tricks on him or if Peter looked slightly relieved.
“Don’t get me wrong of course, I don’t regret Claws but her mother wasn’t my favourite person, kind of made me rethink my decision-making you know? She was going to give Claws up for adoption so it wasn’t hard to get full custody and she’s definitely saved my liver a lot of pain even if it did end my college career. Sorry, you didn’t actually ask about any of that did you? I tend to just keep talking until I’m stopped. How are you, are the burgers good? They were a bit overdone last year but someone’s kept Davies away from the grill this time so we should be fine.”
The corner of Peter’s mouth was twitching with amusement.
“I never though you regretted Claws, I’m sorry you had to leave college but I’m glad you did otherwise I may not have met the only child I’ve ever even vaguely liked, the burgers are fine but need more salt.”
Stiles blinked back in awe. Peter had listened. He’d actually listened to all of the information that Stiles had just dumped on him unsolicited. He’d listened and he’d answered because he’d taken the information in.
If the slutty sweater hadn’t ensured Stiles was utterly fucked, that would have done it. Yeah, he wasn’t getting over this one.
...
Stiles did his best to keep out of Peter’s way after that.
He knew himself well enough to know that that feeling wasn’t going away anytime soon, he didn’t do fleeting crushes, he did all out, all consuming want.
It was part of the reason for his slutty phase in the first place, trying to prove to himself that he could enjoy himself without commitment and he just couldn’t. Truthfully he’d been overjoyed when he found out Claws was on the way, not just because he got to be a dad but because it gave him a chance to live the life he wanted. Caring for someone else.
But Peter wouldn’t want that. Everything from his smile to the way he styled his hair screamed one night only and while Stiles was pretty sure that night would be incredible, his heart really couldn’t take that.
Even if Peter could be convinced to make it more than one night, Stiles didn’t come alone and Claws was his priority.
No, staying away from Peter was the sensible decision. He just had to avoid the District Attorney while working as a deputy. Not a problem. Easy peasy.
...
Peter hadn’t seen Stiles in three weeks. Beacon Hills was a small town but not so small that that was unlikely, something about it felt deliberate though.
He was still trying to work out what he had done to cause it or why it bothered him so much.
His visits to the Sheriff’s department became tense, looking up at every opening door in case it was Stiles stopping by to see his dad. Scanning every room he was in for a pair of too-bright eyes.
...
“The DA stopped in again today while you were out on that call.”
Stiles looked up at his dad. He knew that tone, it was the tone he used when he thought he knew something and was waiting for you to give yourself away. That tone had preceded many a grounding.
“Uh huh, I imagine he stops by often, it’s his job and all.”
“Yeah, funny thing, a lot of the stuff he stops in for these days could have been phone calls. If I didn’t know any better I’d say he was making excuses to drop by, maybe looking for someone?”
“Well I’m sure if you ask him to the prom he’d say yes.” Stiles kept his focus on the dishes he was washing.
“Don’t give me that, why exactly are you hiding from him?”
Stiles sighed and put his sponge down.
“Because he doesn’t want my baggage dad. He might think he does by he doesn’t and I can’t just pretend the baggage doesn’t exist because the baggage in question is my daughter and the best thing that ever happened to me. She comes first. Always.”
“You think I don’t understand that?” Noah was looking like Stiles had just slapped him.
“Just because you have a kid doesn’t mean your life stops, it just means you have to be more careful.”
“What like you did?” Stiles thought that was the winning shot but the look on his dad’s face told him it wasn’t. “Dad, you sly fox, who?”
“A couple of other parents, this one waitress for a bit. We always agreed not to tell our kids unless it was serious. It never was.” Noah shrugged like he’d not just inverted Stiles’s world. It was a bold move but not the killer one he thought it was.
“Our kids. See dad it is different, you were dating people with kids, Peter doesn’t have kids and he’s not the type to want them either. I’m not putting myself out there to be hurt, I’m just not.”
Stiles started washing dishes again.
“Well stop avoiding him would you? Having him in my space makes me nervous. He always just seems a little predatory.”
Stiles chuckled. Predatory was one way to put it. What did it say about him that he found that distinctly appealing?
...
Peter was sat at an empty desk trying to extend yet another pointless visit to the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s department in the hopes of seeing Stiles. He was no longer in denial about that being his goal, he still wasn’t examining why.
He’d commandeered the desk with the excuse of needing a flat surface to go through one of the statements he’d been given, but really it was because he liked sitting here. The desk was in the back corner of the bullpen, offering a good view of all the doors and the other people in the room. He was confident no one could get in or out of the station without him seeing.
The desk’s owner was always out when Peter was there but he would have to have a word with them when they finally met. There were always at least three empty coffee mugs in various stages of crustiness, files didn’t so much as litter the desk as engulf it and when Peter opened one of the draws once he found it completely empty except for a bouncy ball, a chewed pen and a whole bunch of bananas.
Clearly whoever this desk belonged to was a lunatic.
“I know for a fact there are tidier desks in here. What made you choose this one?”
Peter looked up at the familiar voice smile frozen on his face and file falling from his hands.
“What are you wearing?” Peter’s brain had malfunctioned beyond small talk.
“My uniform? I know it’s not the best colour on me but dad keeps refusing to change it for some reason.”
He wasn’t sure what it was, he’d worked around law enforcement his entire career, he would have known if he had that particular kink but something about Stiles’s legs in those pants. The jacket filling out his already broad shoulders. God help Peter if he turned around, he wasn’t sure he’d survive the pants from the back.
“I didn’t know you worked here, I thought things might have taken a downturn and you’d taken to stripping.” Peter hoped he’d recovered well enough that Stiles hadn’t noticed but the look on his face said that hope was unfounded.
“First of all, I’d be a fantastic stripper, it really wouldn’t be a downturn in my life, second of all you didn’t answer my question. What’s the appeal of my desk? It’s been described as a biohazard on more than one occasion, I’d have thought you’d prefer a different one.”
“I like to be able to keep an eye on the entrances. Plus, the owner of this desk is never here, almost like he’s avoiding me.” Peter felt his familiar smirk creeping back onto his face, he was starting to feel back on solid ground, the initial shock of Stiles’s appearance beginning to fade.
“Ah well, maybe he had some stuff to work through. Forget about him he sounds awful anyway.” Stiles grinned “Once you’re over him, I’d like to take you to dinner, would that be okay?” There was a faint blush on his cheeks now and oh god Peter was in trouble. He was going to really struggle with the not getting involved thing here.
“Sure, I’ll pick you up Saturday and it’s my treat, you are broke as shit if I recall correctly.”
“Such a gentleman. I’ll see you at seven, if you want me to be able to keep any of the food inside my mouth I suggest you don’t wear the sweater from the firehouse.”
Stiles walked away and Peter filed the image of the trousers from the back away to revisit in the shower, and then again in bed. Saturday suddenly felt a long way off.
...
It was 6.45 and Lydia was being no help whatsoever.
“I can’t dry my hair and put on pants at the same time Lyds, I just wasn’t built with that many arms!”
“Well you should have started getting ready earlier then shouldn’t you?”
“Oh spare it for someone who has time to care. I was cooking dinner for my CHILD. I remember my dad’s idea of a balanced meal, it was pizza with peppers on.”
“You know he’s just going to feed her ice cream as soon as you’re gone right?”
“And the inevitable sugar rush and ugly crash will be his problem. Now, I’m prioritising the pants. I can go with wet hair, I can’t go without pants.”
“He might not mind if you did.”
“I’m hanging up on you now, thanks for the clothing tips. You are my goddess and I love you and you drive me crazy and you’re the best etc.”
Stiles hung up the phone with a sigh, wondering how it was possible to be both still damp from a shower and sweaty at the same time. And oh god that was the doorbell, 6.50, shit of course Peter was the ‘on time is late’ sort.
Those were voices from downstairs, fucking hell his dad had let him in. He could hear Claws starting to babble away excitedly and suddenly everything was a bit real.
He dialled his phone again.
“Even you can’t put your foot in your mouth that quickly, it can’t be over yet?”
“Lyds, panicking, need you to talk to me. He’s in my house. He knows my dad. He already met Claws oh god what if he doesn’t want more than one night. What if he does Why aren’t you saying anything?”
“Stiles, Stiles, I need you to calm down okay. You’re too far away for me to kiss you this time so you’re going to have to regulate your own breathing. Listen to me okay try to match me.”
Stiles chuckled mirthlessly, trying to match his breathing to Lydia’s exaggerated breaths over the phone until he’d calmed down, still shaking from the adrenaline.
“Now you listen to me Stiles Stilinski. You are a fucking catch. Claws is the greatest kid I have ever met and I have a job earmarked for when she graduates already. If he doesn’t want in on that it’s his business but from what you’ve told me that isn’t going to be a problem. Now get your shit together and go get him.”
“Thanks Lyds, the best seriously.”
“I want details when you get home, I’ve googled him and I’m going to need to know what he looks like with his shirt off.”
Stiles laughed properly this time before hanging up.
...
When Stiles made it downstairs, Noah was stood in the kitchen doorway watching Claws who was talking Peter through the plot of the book she’d been reading. His dad shot him a look that was pure ‘I told you so’ and Stiles gave in to the childish urge to stick his tongue out at him.
“Why does this feel like you’re picking me up for the prom? There are too many family members in here.”
Noah scooped Claws up, and strolled towards the living room, tossing a “have him home by ten” over his shoulder.
Peter stood from the kitchen table and Stiles’s breath caught. He’d not worn the slutty sweater from the firehouse but this was arguably worse. White shirt and blue waistcoat over sinfully tight jeans. This was going to be a long night.
...
Peter was struggling. There were quite a few reasons for that struggle. The first was the jeans Stiles was wearing, which were almost certainly illegal in several countries. The second reason had manifested after they had taken their seats in the restaurant and Stiles had rolled the sleaves up on his shirt to counteract the warmth. Forearms were not supposed to be that attractive.
The most recent and frankly, most confusing reason for that struggle though was candlelight. The restaurant Stiles had chosen was a small Italian place which Peter had readily agreed to, having good memories of it from before he left town. If he had known what candlelight would do to Stiles’s eyes though, he might have insisted they go somewhere else. Somewhere with a lot of fluorescent lighting and weird sticky spots where it would be absolutely impossible for his heart to be doing the weird thing it seemed to be currently doing.
Peter watched those long fingers wrap around the stem of the wine glass and asked himself again what he was doing here. There was just something about Stiles, it was running roughshod over all of his carefully constructed walls and completely flattening all of carefully constructed rules he had put in place to stop himself getting involved.
Stiles licked whipped cream off of his desert spoon and Peter’s resolve just crumpled. He could just get this out of his system. Maybe he could just fuck this terrible feeling out of himself.
...
Stiles couldn’t remember ever having a date this good. To be fair, he hadn’t been on a great deal of dates, but this one just felt particularly good.
Dinner had been perfect, they matched each other’s wit and Peter’s chest in that shirt had given him some extremely inappropriate ideas which had briefly distracted him from his pasta.
He had a vague memory of Lydia telling him not to eat spaghetti on a first date. Something about the Ood look not being attractive. But when Stiles had managed to only get half a forkful in his mouth and then somehow hit himself in the eye while slurping the rest, Peter had laughed with him until Stiles had almost choked on the pasta that had made it into his mouth.
On the ride home, Stiles had hesitantly taken his hand over the gear shift and Peter had gripped him back.
When they pulled up outside Stiles’s house, he found himself strangely reluctant to get out of the car. Looking across the dashboard, Stiles could see the same feeling reflected in Peter’s eyes.
So he did something he never did. He took what he wanted.
Leaning across the console, Stiles cupped Peter’s jaw in his hand, pressing his lips to Peter’s. After the build up it could have been frantic, it could have been fevered, but it was gentle. It was soft, and it turned Stiles’s spine to liquid.
Peter’s hand found its place on Stiles’s hip again and Stiles opened his mouth, nibbling on Peter’s lower lip to demand entrance. There was a hand on his chest preventing him from moving forwards, it quickly went from mildly irritating to pushing him entirely away from his goal.
“Stiles” Peter’s voice brought his attention to the fact that the interfering hand was Peter’s.
“Stiles, this is a bad idea.” It was like Peter had thrown cold water all over him.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s the first date and all, I just thought”
“No, Stiles, not the kiss, I enjoyed it, I really enjoyed it. God help me there’s a very thin sliver of self control keeping me from tackling you into the back seat. It’s just, I think us might be a bad idea.”
Stiles’s heart was somewhere in the region of his shoes.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No, it’s just, I don’t think this will end well, there’s Claws”
Stiles suddenly saw red.
“Oh okay, I get it. Don’t want the baggage huh? Well fuck you buddy, she’s a fucking delight and you’re damn right we’re a package deal. You know, it’s not like it was a surprise to you, you knew she was in my life since we met.”
Stiles managed to make it through his front door before the tears came.
...
Peter kicked himself the whole way home. That wasn’t how it was supposed to come out.
He meant to tell Stiles that he wanted him, so badly, but that he had zero experience with actual relationships and maybe going straight for the physical was playing into his old patterns and wasn’t right for whatever was developing between them.
He meant to tell him that he actually gave a shit about Stiles’s emotions and about Claws and that he didn’t want to treat this lightly.
What came out was a random series of words Stiles had interpreted as “you come with too much baggage.”.
Peter punched his steering wheel as he sped past a stop sign. He was a fucking idiot.
For some reason it actually mattered to him that he’d fucked this one up.
And so he did the unthinkable. Making an incredibly irresponsible U-turn, he headed for his sister’s house.
...
Stiles’s dad had picked him up off the hall floor and got him a drink. The Stiles of any other day would have objected to his dad trying to fix problems with alcohol, the Stiles of today was just happy when his hands stopped shaking.
“He couldn’t deal with the baggage, this is the saddest I told you so ever.”
“I’m sorry kid. I really thought he could handle it.” Noah’s hand settled on his shoulder, grounding him.
...
The Talia that answered the door looked pissed. Peter checked his watch and to be fair it was 11pm, although if she wasn’t such a control freak he’d have a key and this wouldn’t be a problem.
“Sister dearest, I’m here for my sounding board.”
Talia rolled her eyes. She never rolled her eyes at anyone except him anymore, it was oddly flattering.
“He’s upstairs. Do not wake Laura up, they’ve just got the baby to sleep.”
“Trust me Talia,” Peter moved past her to the stairs “I have no desire to wake the brat up.”
He was pretty sure a shoe hit him in the back as he made it to the first floor.
Derek’s room was on the second floor, it was Talia’s concession towards her children being grown up. They had a floor with their own kitchen and bathroom and an outside stairwell to get up there. Laura had moved back down when the baby was born so it was just Derek and Cora up there now.
The two of them were in the shared lounge area they’d made out of Laura’s old room. Derek was Peter’s go-to, the two of them had grown up close enough in age that they were more like siblings than anything else, but Cora being there was a plus. Neither of them pulled their punches but Cora was far more direct than Derek and more prone to telling him when he was being an idiot rather than just trying to communicate that through eyebrow movements.
Even though he loved them both, and honestly, needed them at this point in time, it wasn’t going to stop him from being a dick about it first.
“You know I would expect people related to me to be doing something cooler on a Friday night.” Peter threw himself onto the sofa.
“I actually had a date, it went well, she’s asleep in my room. More importantly what the fuck are you doing here?”
Peter really did like Cora.
“I actually came to talk to Derek, I completely forgot you lived here.” Cora flipped him off.
Derek’s eyebrows were trying to communicate that he was done with their shit but Peter was studiously ignoring it.
“I might have fucked something up.” The eyebrows climbed higher, it was rare Peter admitted his mistakes.
“If you’re here then you definitely fucked something up.” Derek had always been straight to the point.
“I had a date. It went well. The guy has a kid and for some reason I seem to want to actually spend time with him so I pushed him away before it got too intense and he got angry and I’m not sure why.” Derek sighed heavily, Cora looked like she was having the best day of her life.
Peter told them about how he met Stiles and about the whole date, about the kiss, about pushing Stiles away when Cora smacked him across the back of his head.
“You fucking idiot.” The eyebrows weren’t disagreeing with her.
“Well that certainly seems to be the consensus but why?”
Derek sighed like he was trying not to just give up on everyone in the room.
“He thinks you pushed him away because you don’t want a relationship with someone with a kid.”
“No, I just meant that I couldn’t rush into something because Claws... Oh shit, that’s absolutely what he thought.”
Cora slapped him again for good measure.
“I need to undo this.” Peter stood to leave and Derek pulled him back onto the couch.
“Not tonight, text him and ask him for coffee tomorrow. It’s nearly midnight you idiot.”
“You know I don’t think I actually ever got his number.”
Derek sighed as Cora cackled wildly.
...
Stiles had spent Saturday horribly hungover, he blamed his dad. If your boss is the one that gets you drunk is having a hangover at work even a problem?
He did let his partner drive though.
Faris’s kid got rushed to the hospital on Sunday so he covered her shift. Her son had haemophilia so small grazes meant hospital visits. She’d get him back at some point and his dad had Claws so it didn’t overly bother him.
He was stood down on Monday, there were these stupid departmental regulations about how many days you could spend on duty in a row.
He dropped Claws off at school and came home to a fridge already fully stocked with meals. He’d sent his dad to work with lunch already packed. He had absolutely no idea what it was he used to do with his time.
He called Scott in LA to try and get a remote gaming session going but he was at work. So was everyone else, it was 10.30 am on a Monday.
Which is why he was oddly relieved when the doorbell rang. Maybe it was someone selling religion and he could fuck with them for half an hour.
Peter was not what he had been expecting.
“Nope.” Stiles went to shut the door and was blocked by a foot.
If Peter kept blocking his impulsive actions they were really not going to get along.
“I have it on good authority that I’m an idiot.”
Stiles gave him a look which he hoped conveyed exactly how nonplussed he was about that statement.
“This is news how?”
“I didn’t realise I said what I said wrong. Apparently, it was obvious to everyone but me that I fucked it up. What I meant to say was ‘I’ve never done a proper relationship before and you have a kid so we should take it slow’. It turns out what came out of my mouth was ‘you have a kid I’m not interested.’. Problem is, I’m very interested but Claws is a good kid and the longest relationship I’ve ever had was a very enjoyable week in Bermuda. So that’s it I guess, also it turns out I never got your number otherwise I would have done that in a way that was far less embarrassing for both of us.” Peter glanced pointedly at Stiles’s old Lacrosse shorts which he had been wearing in the name of comfort.
“You’re an idiot.” Stiles felt like he should probably have said something more eloquent but that’s what came out.
“Yes, I’ve been made aware.”
Stiles grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him in through the front door before kissing him soundly.
“You’re such an idiot.” Stiles had pushed Peter back again, slamming the door behind them. “You think I know what a relationship is like?” He nibbled on Peter’s bottom lip “I had a kid at nineteen, I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m doing, but she’s smart and you like her and I think my dad just wants me out of the house. Plus you’re hot and an absolute fucking dick which are just bonuses so I umph”
Stiles’s tirade was cut off by Peter kissing him again, sucking on his tongue in a way which was making certain parts of his anatomy start to take notice.
“Wait” Peter had pulled back “your dad?”
“At work and Claws is at school.”
“Excellent.”
Stiles giggled wildly as Peter lifted him under his thighs and pushed him back against the front door.
...
Peter was in his late thirties and he could safely say he’d never felt giddy before, but that must be what he was feeling now. Giddy. It was absurd.
They had made it up the stairs to Stiles’s bedroom. Peter couldn’t say for sure how they even got there, he hadn’t been aiming for it but he had just blindly followed Stiles, he was sure wherever Stiles went was where he wanted to be.
Stiles’s room was exactly what you would expect from a room where someone had grown up and now lived as an adult. The queen bed clearly too big to fit in a space meant for a twin, the desk no longer used for homework but littered with Claws’s projects the same way his work desk was littered with files. Too many books for any one human, every available piece of space taken by more book shelves.
It was perfect.
Stiles shut the door, placing a hand on Peter’s chest, and fixing him with a serious look.
“Okay, I know you were freaking out about this before but I don’t think I can do casual. Even when I tried I was really bad at it. I fall hard and fast and frankly, you’re already stuck with me. So before we go any further, can you deal with that?”
“I’ve only ever done not serious, I don’t know how good I’ll be at serious, but there is something about you and about Claws that makes me want to try. I can’t promise you won’t have to lead me by the hand sometimes but I can promise to try. I can also promise to give you my niece's phone number. She’s very good at quite literally smacking sense into me.”
Stiles pushed him against the door and kissed him like he was starving and Peter was the last piece of cake at a buffet.
“I don’t know what I’m doing either, but willing to try is all I need.” Stiles pulled his shirt off over his head.
If those broad shoulders in his uniform made Peter’s brain short circuit, the sight of Stiles bare-chested almost made him lose time. Whether it was the job or just Stiles’s lifestyle, Stiles was lean but built. Those broad shoulders tapering into a lightly muscled chest and a trail of dark hair leading down lightly toned abs. Peter’s mouth watered at the thought of tracing that trail with his tongue.
Pulling his own shirt off, desperate for skin on skin, Peter pulled Stiles back into a kiss, his hands kneading at the hips that had occupied his mind since the first time he’d held them in the sheriff’s station.
Stiles walked them backwards towards the bed, pulling Peter down on top of him. They bounced a little awkwardly, Stiles letting out a small ‘ouch’ as Peter’s forehead hit his nose, then laughing as he moved up the bed too quickly and hit his head on the headboard.
He looked so bewildered when it happened that Peter couldn’t help but laugh too. Soon the two of them were lying next to each other, and Peter was laughing until tears came to his eyes, Stiles giggling wildly next to him.
Peter had never had this before. Never had a mishap be funny and not awkward. It made his chest feel like it was full of sparklers.
He had to kiss Stiles after that. Stiles, still mid giggle and Peter just had to show him. Show him how he wasn’t sure how this would end, or even if it would, but for the moment he was just so grateful to be here, to hold Stiles. He really thought this could be something great.
This new kiss developed into something intense in a way Peter had never really experienced. It wasn’t like he didn’t still want to absolutely wreck Stiles, because he did, but he wanted to take his time, he wanted to draw this out. He was going to show Stiles exactly how gone on him he was.
Peter sat back to pull Stiles’s awful shorts off with his underwear, before diving in to bite at his inside thighs. He wanted to mark and claim Stiles, in this place no one else would ever see. He wanted Stiles to think of him whenever he went to shower and saw those marks.
He bit progressively upwards as Stiles squirmed and made increasingly needy sounds until Peter was finally high enough to nose at his balls and then move up again and lick at the head of his cock.
The noises turned so gratifying when he did that that he had no choice but to take Stiles’s cock into his mouth, working his way downwards and using his hand on what he couldn’t swallow.
Peter knew he was good at this. He had it on good authority that he was good at this, but the noises Stiles were making were going right to his ego and cock in equal measure, which was why he had to pull away and get his own pants and briefs off.
Getting a hand around himself he moaned in relief and dove back in, taking Stiles almost all the way down.
He went into that particular headspace he could find when using his mouth on someone, nothing mattered but their groans and their hand in his hair. Every so often he remembered it was Stiles and moaned, doubling his efforts. Fuck if he knew what he’d done to deserve finding himself here.
Before long he felt the hand in his hair tightening, pulling him back from Stiles’s cock. Stiles fisted the base of his dick and handed Peter a small bottle of lube.
“Keep doing that and we’re not going to make it to the main event.”
Stiles was so breathless, the flush high on his cheeks doing anything but discourage Peter from continuing. He lubed up a finger, slowly working it inside of Stiles until he was deep enough to crook it and find his prostate.
“How old are you again?” Peter asked as Stiles squirmed deliciously.
“Twenty-five, wh – AAH"
Peter had sucked him down again as he added as second finger. He reckoned at twenty-five Stiles could probably go again.
When Stiles started tapping him on the shoulder he pulled back long enough to ask if he was clean before diving back in to swallow everything he could get as Stiles made the most mouthwatering noises, his hand clenching and releasing in Peter’s hair.
“Sorry Peter I wanted to” Stiles looked genuinely put out when Peter pulled his fingers out before falling silent when he just added more lube before moving three of them back towards his hole.
“You’re twenty-five, you can handle it” Peter hit his prostate and Stiles’s cock twitched weakly. “Condom or not? I’m clean too but if you want me to wear one I understand, up to you.”
“You seem like you sleep around but you’re meticulous about it, I reckon you’ve never had unprotected sex in your life. If you say you’re clean I trust you and I’d really like it if you filled me up.”
Peter’s brain went fuzzy around the edges at that. Stiles was right, he was usually meticulous, there was just something about Stiles that made him want to crawl as close as he possibly could.
Moving up Stiles’s body and kissing him like his life depended on it, Peter added more lube to his cock, lined himself up and started slowly pushing in.
And then he paused. Stiles was starting to get hard again but that wasn’t why he stopped. There was something about this that was different to other times he’d slept with people.
Sure, his ultimate goal was always to get off and, if he was honest, make the other person feel as good as possible to feed his ego. This felt different though, this time he wanted to be as close to Stiles as possible. The physical pleasure was almost secondary, he was riding the high of getting as close to this beautiful man as he possibly could.
He kissed Stiles again, trying to put all of that into the kiss. Stiles responded like he knew.
When they started moving it was together, griding against each other like the amount of distance Peter would have to pull back to thrust back in was unbearable. And then they built up a rhythm like nothing he’d ever felt before. He kept licking and biting at Stiles’s chest and neck like he wanted to consume him.
When Stiles finally came, one hand wrapped around his cock and tensing around Peter, it was all he could do to hang on for the ride, biting down on Stiles’s collarbone and coming until his vision blurred at the edges.
...
Peter came back around to Stiles wiping them both down with some tissues from his bedstand.
“Well that was fucking awesome.” The artificial lightness in Stiles’s voice didn’t quite cover the fact that he seemed just as breathless as Peter. This could really be the start of something.
Peter leaned across to kiss Stiles again, trying to physically communicate how important this was for him.
“Yeah, me too.” Stiles grinned as they pulled back. And then he went to grab his phone out of his shorts on the floor.
“What are you doing?” Peter was immediately suspicious that Stiles was looking to bail already.
“I am setting an alarm for when I need to get Claws from school and then we are napping.”
Peter chuckled before finding his own phone to text the office that he wouldn’t be back that day.