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Scott is pouting at her.
Stile tries to ignore him, she really, really does, because this is so not a conversation she ever wants to have. But she makes the mistake of looking up at him, and shit. There are the puppy-dog eyes.
“What?” she finally whines out, pouting at her eggs. The kitchen in this apartment is awesome, and is fully stocked with food. Since she is more than reasonably sure that this apartment belongs to the nurse currently rotting away in the trunk of her own car, Stiles feels a little guilty about the werewolf currently sleeping off a great afterglow in the bedroom, but not guilty enough to stop from availing herself of all the delicious things she’s found.
“You let him…” and Scott trails off looking slightly ill, because there are some things that aren’t mentioned between bros, especially things like how one’s bro is actually a girl who just had really, really good sex with an older man who had previously tried to ruin one’s life and/or moral foundations. Scott clears his throat, awkwardly shuffling in place. “He bit you,” he finally says.
And Stiles? Well her brain goes completely out the window for a brief as she remembers the many ways Peter had bit her. Sometimes with human teeth, sometimes with werewolf ones. The multiple bites thing is probably why she’s already integrated with her inner wolf, whereas Scott had needed almost a full twenty-four hours. That, or consent, no matter how dubious, was actually something important, but she wasn’t going to think about that. Because if she started thinking about that, she’d start thinking about how Scott, sweet, innocent Scott, was essentially bite-raped, which, no. Just no.
She is really good about compartmentalizing things. Pragmatism, thy name is Stiles.
“Hmmm,” she deliberately half-moans, half-hums in remembrance, and nearly cracks up at the look on Scott’s face. That level of horror on his innocent face is strangely hilarious.
“He bit you,” Scott half-says, half-whimpers, as if hoping Stiles didn’t hear him correctly the first time.
“Yes,” she says agreeably. “Yes, he did. Multiple times. With teeth.” She grins at Scott. “And if he’s agreeable, I think I’ll have him do it again.” She taps her fingers against the counter, cocking her head thoughtfully. “Along with a couple other things that I won’t mention because you’re looking a little pale there and Scott? Scott, you need to breathe, breathing is awesome. Scott?!”
And she’s off her stool and kneeling on the floor in front of him, hands gripping Scott’s shoulders as the boy struggles to breathe. “It’s okay, Scott,” she says softly. “Listen to my heartbeat. Focus on that. Breathe with me, dude.” It takes a few moments, but eventually Scott calms down.
“Why did you do it?” he finally says.
Stiles shoots him a Look. “Do you really want the answer to that?” she asks drily.
Scott sighs. “Not really.”
“I didn’t think so.” She shuffles so that her back is pressed against the wall beside him, thankful she’d grabbed Peter’s boxers as well as his shirt, because otherwise this would have been a lot more awkward than it already was. “So how’d you find me?” She finally asks.
“I followed your scent," he says sheepishly.
Stiles can't help but giggle. "I could make so many dog jokes right now. You don't even know."
Scott snickers. "I got a good idea. I've had a running commentry in my head the entire time I was doing it." He sighs, relaxing against the wall. "You know, your dad’s gone crazy looking for you,” Scott says. “There’s an APB out and everything.”
Stiles winces. “Huh.”
“I told him you left the dance early with some guy from the lacrosse team after Lydia ditched you, but…” he trails off, looking sheepish. “You know how your dad is.”
She laughs. “Yeah, I do. That man can smell lies like cheap perfume.” Still, Scott has thoughtfully given her an alibi for all the crazy that happened last night, if not one that she can really use – her father knows her better than to think she’d willingly go off with one of the lacrosse team for a night of something when he knows she can’t stand the members of the lacrosse team (except for Scott). So, she needed a better one.
“Where’s Derek?” She finally says, after a brief moment of comfortable silence.
Scott shrugs. “He kinda went a little crazy after Peter didn’t show and he had to kill Kate to stop her from killing me.”
Stiles snorts. “Dude, he was already crazy.”
“Uh…crazier?” Scott tries.
She laughs. “Don’t ever change, Scott,” she says fondly, bumping her shoulder into his.
They sit there for another long moment, before Scott sighs and looks at her mournfully. “Seriously though. Why’d you…” he gestures vaguely at the general vicinity of the bedroom, where they both can hear the steady heartbeat of a deeply slumbering werewolf.
Stiles most certainly does not feel smug pride that she wore Peter out that much. “You know I like being manhandled,” she eventually says, because that had come up several times between them when she’d first started getting aroused by it when Jackson kept pushing her into walls and lockers and looming. She maybe kinda sorta freaked out about it several times over the course of eighth grade while Scott, poor, innocent Scott, awkwardly listened and tried not to edge out of the room in panic.
“Yeah,” he says, looking just as awkward as he had the last time they’d had a similar discussion, though that one had been about the porn he’d found on her computer and not about actual sex.
“Peter’s really good at manhandling.” She shrugs. “And he’s really hot and does this thing with his tongue, and wow, how could I pass that up?” She gives Scott her best grin, the one that’s 10% innocence and 90% mischief. “I really want to do it again.” She sighs, mock-regretfully. “I’m ruined for other men now, Scott. Peter ruined me.”
And there’s that hilarious horrified face again. This time she doesn’t bother holding it in, just breaks out into wicked laughter.
“So what are you going to tell your dad?” he finally asks her once she calms down.
“I’m thinking one of us will track down Derek and make him do the whole ‘werewolf’ speech first, and then I’ll come up with some kind of amazing bullshit that won’t see the both of us grounded until we’re forty.”
There’s a moment of silence as they both contemplate that, and then, “He can’t ground me, I’m not his kid.”
Stiles levels another Look at him. “Dude, the man’s been practically your only father-figure since you were in diapers. Your mom has already given him grounding privileges.”
“Shit.”
“Yup.”
There’s another moment of silence. “So why are you wearing Peter’s clothes?”
Stiles smiles again. “My dress did not survive its removal from the general vicinity of my body, and I’m not wearing a dead person’s clothes.”
“Are you going to tell your dad about Peter?”
“Not until I’m legally old enough to tell him to go to hell if he tries to stop me from seeing him, which is technically in about 18 months, so I guess I’ll tell him then, if I can’t hold out for never.”
Scott’s giving her his best Bitch!face now. Stiles takes a small moment to wonder at that. It’s the first time she’s ever seen him give anyone that look, and he’s actually really good at it. “You make it sound like this is going to be a thing.”
“Um…”
“Stiles.”
“About that,” she says, shuffling away from Scott.
“Stiles.”
“I’m pack, Scott,” she finally says. “Unlike you, I consented to the bite. I’m his now.”
“You’re his beta?”
“Not exactly,” she hedged.
“Stiles.”
“Look, this doesn’t come with a manual, okay? And I was a little busy with the sex last night, so I didn’t really get to ask too many questions.”
Scott frowns at her. “But…?”
“But I’m sixteen years old and we didn’t use protection last night, and I’m not even worried about it. I just feel satisfied, like everything’s been slotted neatly into place for once. I did research for you when you started to fixate on Allison so badly, and there might have been something about biological pulls and pheromones and the concept of mating, but I have to take everything with a grain of salt until either Derek or Peter can confirm or deny because there is, unfortunately, no such thing as an internet werewolf-guru.”
There’s a long moment of silence. Stiles doesn’t look at Scott, who is staring at her.
“Shit,” he says eventually.
“Yeah,” Stiles says softly.
Scott sighs, and reaches out and pulls her against him. “You know I’ll be here, right? Even if that means being Peter’s beta.” There’s a slight tone of disgruntled affection in his voice.
Stiles can’t help the slow smile that crosses her face. “Yeah, I know.” Because Scott? Amazingly dense and more than a bit naïve about things, but he’s there when she needs him to be and is the only person whose stuck with her through thick and thin. She snuggles into his embrace, and relaxes. Things were going to be weird for a while, but Scott would be with her, and that was all that mattered.