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Stiles didn’t know what he was doing, not really. He just knew that he needed to get away from Scott as fast as he could. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was driving, mostly acting on autopilot and he let out a broken laugh when he realized where he had ended up.
He and Peter were something, definitely, though neither had bothered to put a name to it yet, and they had both stayed firmly in the friendship area for now. But Stiles was still reeling from all the things Scott had said, had accused him of, as if it wasn’t Stiles’ that kept the pack safe from deadly threats. As if it wasn’t Stiles who lost sleep, to bury bodies Scott didn’t want to talk about and to nightmares about making these bodies he buried, and Stiles was just done.
He needed a place where he would be understood and his first, only, thought was Peter. Stiles knew that this would change things; he was too emotionally done to pretend that he wasn’t in love with Peter, that he didn’t want everything with him, and Stiles just hoped that Peter would understand.
Stiles made his way up to Peter’s apartment and he didn’t need to knock, hadn’t needed to knock in all the times he had come here, because Peter was always keeping an ear out for him. When Peter opened the door for Stiles he was smirking, but it dropped off his face as soon as his eyes fell on Stiles.
“What’s wrong?” Peter immediately asked and Stiles just shrugged before he stepped in close, dropping his head to Peter’s chest, tangling his hands in Peter’s shirt and just breathing him in. It made Stiles feel safe.
“What happened, darling?” Peter softly asked, putting one hand over Stiles’ neck and squeezing gently.
“Scott,” Stiles mumbled, and he knew Peter was flashing his eyes in annoyance. He didn’t even have to see, that was how well he knew Peter.
“What do you need?” Peter asked, voice still softer than Stiles could ever remember and Stiles pressed close.
“Take me to bed,” he muttered into Peter’s shirt.
Explaining that he needed comfort and not sex right now was too much for Stiles at the moment, but he trusted Peter to understand. Peter knew him like no one else and he would know what Stiles needed. He always did.
“Okay,” Peter gave back and dropped a kiss to the crown of Stiles’ head before he gently steered him towards the bedroom.
He never stopped touching Stiles, made sure that he always had a hand on him, and Stiles could feel tears prick at his eyes. Once they reached the bedroom, Peter sat him down on the bed before he smoothed a hand over his hair, squeezing Stiles’ neck again, before he hurriedly stepped away to get some sweatpants for Stiles.
Stiles quickly changed, Peter deliberately turned away from him, until he could hear Stiles slide beneath the covers. Stiles’ throat closed up when Peter just stood at the side of the bed for a long moment, but before he could make grabby hands at Peter, he was already climbing into bed with him.
Peter pulled him close, tucking Stiles neatly into the folds of his body and Stiles felt like he could relax for the first time since talking to Scott, with his face pressed into Peter’s neck and enveloped by his arms.
It didn’t take long for him to shake apart like that, sobs taking over and breath coming out stuttered, but Peter held him close, soothed him with a low purring sound and Stiles clung hard enough to him that he would have left bruises on anyone else.
Stiles fell asleep like that, face still wet with tears but safe in Peter’s arms, and he didn’t even dream this time.
When he woke up, Peter was still there. He had turned on his back, but he was still holding Stiles close, and Stiles snuggled closer into his side, rubbed his face over Peter’s chest.
“I always knew you were more of a cat than a wolf,” Peter teasingly said and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ hair.
“This wasn’t how I wanted this to go,” Stiles mumbled, eyes still closed and listening intently to Peter’s heartbeat.
“And how did you want this to go?” Peter asked, though he didn’t seem overly concerned or upset.
“I had a plan,” Stiles told him, tilting his head slightly so he could nose at Peter’s jaw.
“You always do, love,” Peter gave back and rolled them to their sides, so that he could rest their foreheads together.
“Wanted to woo you,” Stiles mumbled as he rubbed their noses together.
“Sweetheart, you gave me pack, and a safe place. You warded my home, you integrated me into your family and you trust me. Consider me wooed,” Peter whispered back, and Stiles laughed.
“You’re kind of easy,” he teased and basked in the sound of Peter’s laugh.
He had always loved it.
“Only for you, my heart,” Peter told him and pulled Stiles even closer. “You want to talk about it? Or you want me to get the laptop and some ice cream?”
“Scott disapproves,” Stiles said after a lengthy pause where Peter just patiently waited for him to make a decision.
“We knew that,” Peter carefully gave back.
“He called me a monster,” Stiles choked out and could feel tears gathering in his eyes again.
“Say the word and I can remind him what a real monster looks like,” Peter almost growled out, eyes flashing electric blue and while it was meant as a threat it only served to calm Stiles’ down.
He loved Peter’s eyes.
“No,” Stiles sighed. “You’ve been good. I don’t want to erase the number on the ‘No incidents’ board again.”
“That board is haunting my every step, just so you know,” Peter told him, and Stiles laughed.
He knew Peter hated it, especially since he had no clue what incidents Stiles was marking off there, but he left it hanging on his wall, indulging Stiles.
“I love you,” Stiles whispered, for once not afraid to say these words out loud, because he knew what the answer would be.
He had known for a while, if he was honest; Peter’s love for him was clear in every one of his actions, just like Stiles’ love was evident in his own actions.
“And I love you,” Peter immediately gave back, pulling Stiles closer again and gently brushing their lips together.
It wasn’t the passionate first kiss Stiles had imagined so often, but it was better; more fitting for the situation.
“What kind of ice cream do you have?” Stiles mumbled against Peter’s lips and Peter chuckled.
“As if I would buy anything but your favourite,” he told Stiles, adoration so clear in his whole demeanor and Stiles just had to lean in to steal another kiss.
“And Vampire Diaries?” Stiles hopefully asked while Peter groaned.
“You know I hate that show.”
“I do too. We can mock it together. You know you want to.”
“Only for you, darling,” Peter gave back, and nuzzled Stiles’ cheek before he untangled himself from Stiles to get up.
Stiles burrowed further under the blanket, impatiently waiting for Peter to come back to him and immediately pulling him back down as soon as he felt the mattress dip under Peter’s weight. Peter must have anticipated the move, because the bowls with ice cream were safely on the nightstand and the laptop secure in his hand, so Stiles didn’t even feel too bad about it.
Stiles snuggled back into Pete’s side, draping one of Peter’s arms over his shoulder so he could rest his head on his chest again and then he made grabby hands at the ice cream.
“You’re insufferable,” Peter chided when it took him a second too long to react and Stiles started to whine.
“Don’t even pretend, you love me,” Stiles confidently gave back and thoroughly enjoyed not only hearing Peter’s laugh, but also feeling it under his cheek.
“That I do,” Peter gave back and kissed his forehead before he started the episode where they last left off.
Things with Scott weren’t better, might never be better again, but Stiles couldn’t find it in him to care. Not with how loved he felt right now.