It had been a long ass day. The lawyers that had taken over running his late sister's firm in Seattle were pig headed assholes who had argued about everything the entire week. It had been a shit show. They had gotten used to how his sister had run things. His coming in, after taking so long in sorting out the firm in California, and all the changes he implemented there in making it his own, well. It had ruffled a few feathers.
Shuffling a bit further down in the plane chair, he loosened his tie. He hated flying economy, but it was the fastest flight back home. Laura had turned 18 recently, she was old enough to look after herself and her siblings, Derek and Cora, for a week, but he was feeling itchy at having let them out of his sight. The… The house fire had cost them too much. They were lucky to have each other left. When all the media circus calmed down, Peter had rented a condo for them all to stay in while Derek and Cora finished high school. At least until the burnt husk of a house was knocked down and rebuilt. He hadn't left their sides for the first year, just as they didn't like it when they had to leave his side. But work had to be dealt with and the firm in Seattle was making more and more shady deals. He didn't mind shady, unlike his late sister, but he did mind them being more obvious about it.
He watched as the plane filled up steadily. The slow shuffle of tired people dragging overstuffed bags down a small isle was amusing. There was only one chair next to him and he was hoping that it remained empty.
The plane was almost full, most seats filled and Peter was starting to think his calm neighborless flight wasn't a pipe dream. That was until a tall, lanky man almost hit him over the head trying to get his rucksack in the overhead locker.
"Sorry! Sorry!" The young man gushed, quickly shoving his back in the locker and shuffling past Peter to the flop into the window seat.
Peter just sighed and slouched even further. There goes his peaceful flight home. He couldn't catch a damn break. Shoving his headphones over his ears, he put on some random jazz track and tried to go to sleep. His nieces and nephews were going to be attached to him as soon as he got home. Not that he minded, but he had spent the majority of his adult life alone. To suddenly be constantly around people was grating on his nerves.
He had just started dozing, waiting for the air stewards to do their final checks before take off, when his elbow was knocked off the arm rest. Jolting upright, he couldn't help but glare at the person beside him.
The younger man grimaced and mouthed "sorry", even as he still jostled his ridiculously long legs around trying to find a comfortable position.
There was a light tap on his shoulder, the chirpy voice of the stewardess telling him he needed to turn off all electrical devices. He didn't even look up, just turned off his iPod and took off his headphones. He lazily watched the safety demonstration, half his mind on the caseload waiting for him at home.
A foot kicked his. Side-eyeing the tired looking young man next to him again, he saw him once again grimace and mouth "sorry". Peter sighed again. The plane's engines roared and it started taxiing down the runway. Because Peter couldn't put his headphones back on till the seatbelt sign went off, he heard the quickened breath from the man next to him. The chairs were joined and moved with every anxious jig of his leg. It didn't help that the floor of airplanes were flimsy and bounced along as well. Of course. He would get stuck next to the nervous flyer.
The whine of the engines grew louder as the plane took off and out of the corner of his eye Peter saw the white knuckles grip from how hard his neighbor was gripping the armrests. The controlled breathing from beside him was loud. Peter tried to block it out, settling further back into his chair.
As soon as the plane had leveled out and the seatbelt sign turned off, he put his headphones back on and prepared to just rest for the few hours he was in the air, before being a "parent" once again. The plain was cold, most people had the air con on and he only had a suit shirt on, instead of his usual Henley and he was feeling the chill.
It had been almost an hour of peaceful music listening before he felt this thunkon his shoulder. Slowly opening his eyes, he turned just enough to be able to see the nervous young man, mouth open and completely passed out, and leaning on his shoulder. His nose twitched, the small upturn at the end of it scrunching up as he snuffled against his shoulder. Peter was frozen. Who the hell fell asleep on a stranger's shoulder? He glanced down again at the sleeping man's face again, all the muscles relaxed in sleep. It was a marked difference to how it was before when he was panicking.
Peter shrugged the younger man to the other side of his seat, carefully tilting him to get him to naturally fall against the window. He watched bemused as his neighbor shuffled, his long legs sprawling out even further, mouth gaping open as he made odd snuffling noises and muttered odd words as he got comfortable. He didn't hear them, but from the words he could lipread, it was just gibberish about some candy. He couldn't help but notice the dark under eyes, they were almost purple.
Peter's side felt cold since the heat the young man radiated was gone. It had been a nice counterpoint to the cold air. He couldn't help but shiver as the cold air curled back around him from all sides. He tried not to the think about the lingering smell of the man's hair. It was clean but masculine. He tried really hard not to breathe it in.
It was another half hour before he felt the thunk back on his shoulder. Once again, he slowly opened his eyes and turned to look down at his passed out neighbor who was curling back towards his arm. Peter felt the warmth again from his co-passenger. The clean soap smell was back in his nose. The soft cupid bow lips were still perpetually open in sleep, smacking together as he moved a bit closer. In his sleep, he must have ruffled his hair, because now it was brushing Peters neck as he shifted.
Peter was starting to feel really creepy, what with the staring and letting a sleeping stranger rest on his shoulder. Especially when said man was at least 20 years younger than him and he couldn't stop the words "beautiful" and "soft" from floating around his brain.
Slowly, he once again shrugged the man from his side, back towards the window. He watched as the young man once again settled away from Peter's shoulder. Just as Peter turned away, the flight attendant pushed the trolley by and asked in a quietly professional voice if he would like anything. Sliding one headphone off to be able to talk to the man, he ordered a water quickly, he grabbed his wallet. As he was shuffling around, trying to get to his pocket, he saw the still passed out man beside him. He thought about waking him up incase he wanted something, and then he thought about how much he hated being woken and the guy really looked like he needed the sleep. Quickly paying for his water, he tuned out the flight attendant as he went to the next set of seats. Sliding his headphones back on properly, he settled back in for his flight. He refused to think of how his side was cold again.
It was barely 10 minutes later, when he felt the thunk back on his shoulder. He didn't even bother looking down this time, he knew it would be his co-passenger, back on his shoulder, passed out cold. Peter was a selfish man. He didn't like to deny himself much. This was the third time the man had come back to his shoulder and honestly, he liked how warm it was. So he let him stay.
Within the next fifteen minutes, one of his feet had been claimed, the stranger's long limbs wrapping around him, as had his arm. He looked bemusedly down at the young man who was slowly curling around him more and more. Glancing at his phone, he saw there was less than an hour to go before they were due to land. Unable to contain the snort at the ridiculousness of the situation he was in, he looked at the young man curled around his right side. Closing his eyes, he decided to just endure the cuddle monster that was his neighbor. It wasn't as though he minded terribly after all.
Hearing the cabin announcement saying they would be landing soon, he shook his head to clear it. Whilst he had dozed off, his cuddle partner had curled even more around his left side, his hand being taken prisoner as well. Shaking his head as he huffed in amusement, he caught a glimpse of the faces of the people across the aisle from them. The disgust on the woman's face caught Peter by surprise before he realised that she was looking at how his nameless co-passenger was curled around him. Like a lovers embrace.
A flush of white anger pretty much got rid of any common sense he had left after dealing with the Seattle firm. With a pathetically fake smile, he linked his hands together and shifted in a way that made the younger man settle more comfortably against him, all their edges matching up. His neighbors hair was still fluffed up and it was tickling his neck again. He moved his head slightly so it could rest against his unaware partner's, just to see the homophobes annoyance. Sliding his eyes over to her slowly purpling face, he couldn't help but smirk and wink at the close minded woman. He chuckled under his breath as she huffed and turned her whole body away as if she was going to ignore them, angrily muttering under her breath to her husband sat next to her.
He couldn't hear the rumbled of the husbands reply, trying to placate the ridiculous wife, but he could see his hands resting on hers, trying to stop her from pressing the call button.
Peter felt the young man snuffle against him again, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder, lips smacking together as he mumbled some odd words that Peter couldn't hear. He couldn't help but breathe in the clean fresh scent. Peter had a high creepy metre, he really did, but even he was starting to ping the perv vibe off himself.
The angry muttering was beginning to be loud enough for him to hear even over his music and headphones. He subtly thumbed the pause button on his phone, but kept the headphones over his ears. People had fallen for worse deceptions and they were usually more open when the topic of their bullshitting "couldn't hear".
"-not natural, Howard!"
"It's not illegal, hun. You've just gotta ignore them."
"How can I?! With their hugging and groping on a public place?!" Her voice was growing shrill and getting the attention of the passengers around them.
"Honey, you need to lower your voice."
"I'm not the abominations!"
"Mmm," Peter jumped slightly at the sleep scratchy voice coming from the stranger on his shoulder. "Babe, make the idiot bigot shut up. I got beauty sleep to catch up on." The tired scotch-brown eyes were slitted and staring up at him, his head still resting on his shoulder, so close he couldn't help but notice the flecks of amber in his irises. The sleep-cuddler smirked languidly. "Someone kept me up all night," he purred sliding one of his hands up his thigh.
Peter couldn't help but admire how far his cuddle partner would go just to piss someone off. He slid down in his chair even further, opening his legs unsubtly, unable to pass up the opportunity make the idiot across from them squawk indignantly.
"Well, husband, I couldn't help it. It was our last night on honeymoon," Peter murmured into the top of his partner's hair, just loud enough to make sure it seemed as though he was only talking to his "husband" but the bigot could hear them too. Her huff of anger and the clatter of metal confirmed she heard. The husbands placating words were drowned out by the woman's angry rantings as she got up and stormed down the aisle to the attendants stationed at the front. Peter followed the harsh movement of her hands and saw the flight attendant's posture draw tight and pull away from the bigot. The flight attendant smiled a strained smile and nodded tightly, his arm signalling sharply to the bigot to be seated again. The woman's self satisfied smile on her way back was nauseating.
During the interaction down the end of the plane, his cuddle partner had used his nose to nudge Peters headphones off his ears. Peter was highly amused as the strangers lack of care with other people's personal space. When his headphones were pulled off enough that his ear was exposed, the soundproofing foam removed totally, he heard his strangers smooth voice whispers, "I'm Stiles."
"What the hell is a Stiles?" Peter muttered back.
"Me. I'm a Stiles," chuckled his now-named cuddle partner, Stiles.
"I'm Peter," Peter quietly replied, watching as the bigot woman made her way back down plane. Stiles saw her coming and snuggled back into Peter's neck. Peter almost whimpered when he felt the younger man's nose rub just under his jawline. Trust this near stranger to find one of his pleasure spots without thinking about it.
"Darla, please, just sit down, we've only got another a few minutes," the husband pleaded, standing to let his wife sit further away from the "abominations".
"I will not, they shouldn't be allowed in public," she said primly, sitting calmly, like she spouting bullshit out of her arse. "I have spoken to the attendant and he will do something about it."
Peter had watched her interaction with the flight attendant. That bloke wasn't going to do shit for this woman. He felt Stiles snort a laugh against his neck and couldn't help the shiver that ran down his spine. Apparently his cuddle partner agreed.
The seatbelt sign turned on with a ding, and most people buckled up and put their stuff away in their bags. The husband sent them an apologetic grimace which Peter couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at. The bigot just looked smug and self-assured, glaring at them like they were bug on the bottom of her hideous shoes. Truly. They were the abominations in this situation.
Neither Peter nor Stiles made to untangle themselves as the plane landed. Actually, Stiles clung closer. Peter quickly removed his headphones, stashing them in his satchel by his feet. Stiles squished back into his side when he sat back up. The older man decided to just roll with it, and curled his arm around the younger kids shoulders. He felt the man tense up as they landed bumpily on the tarmac and held him a bit closer instinctively. He felt Stiles grip him tighter.
As the plane taxied down the runway, an announcement was made to remind everyone to stay seated for a few moments, as there had been an altercation. Most people were confused, but stayed in their seats when the plane stopped at their gate. The flight attendant purposefully walked down the aisle, smiling politely at the passengers asking questions until he got to their seats. The woman leaned forward eagerly to speak to him, but he turned his back to her immediately, facing the two men cuddling. "Good afternoon gentlemen, we are terribly sorry that you have had to deal with this behaviour today. We hope this does not affect your opinion of the airline. If you want to press charges on this woman-" Her cry of outrage will be something Peter treasures for a while. "-we have police ready at the door to apprehend her."
"Well, dear, are we pressing charges?" Peter purred, taking great pleasure in the bigots sputtering, across from them. He looked down to see a vindictive gleam in Stiles eyes, feeling it more than seeing him nod against his shoulder. His hand had moved from his upper thigh to cradling and playing with Peter's fingers in the time it took for the attendant to get here. Peter squeezed Stiles fingers and turned back to the man still stood leaning down beside them. "Yes, we'd like to press charges."
A voice from behind them piped up, "I'll be glad to be a witness." A few other voices around them agreed. The flight attendant smiled at them and informed them that that would be most helpful and to remain seated until the rest of the plane cleared to get their statements and contact information.
The flight attendant turned to the woman, her husband, slouched as far down the seat as he could go, face in his hands. "Ma'am, please remain seated while I collect the police officers, they will be on shortly to arrest you." His calm voice spoke clearly through her spluttering. She fell silent after he had finished, glancing around to see no-one willing to stand up for her and her beliefs. She finally hunched over in her seat, trying to avoid all the harsh gazes around her.
Watching that woman be taken down the aisle in handcuffs is another thing Peter will treasure for a good long while. When she left, a few other police officers came on board to take their statements. Stiles and Peter finally unwound themselves from each other. Stiles couldn't help but blush as he heard what he had done in his sleep during the flight. After that retelling with stoles turning a wonderful shade of pink, the rest of statement was pretty run of the mill, though the officer questioning them got a kick out of complete strangers doing this. The other passengers who stayed to give statements and contact details left before they did, all giving both Stiles and Peter a reassuring nod as they passed.
It took around 10 minutes to get all the questions out the way, confirming all their contact details and then Stiles and Peter were released.
There was an awkward moment when they were both as the exit of the terminal and just stood next to each other. Stiles was waiting for his father to pick him up (And wasn't that a surprise that the good Sheriff of his home town was Stiles' father) and Peter was waiting for his niece to pick him up in her ridiculously flashy car. Stiles couldn't help but fidget with his rucksack straps on his shoulders.
"So." Stiles clapped his hands. "I have never been in this situation before."
Peter raised his eyebrow. "Funnily enough, neither have I."
Stiles chuckled, running his hand through his messy hair, causing it to stick up even more. "Sorry for attack cuddling in my sleep."
Peter thought about for a moment. He ran his gaze up and down the young man and remember how devious he has been on the plane. He knew from Stiles giving his contact details he was actually 23, so he didn't feel too skeezy about checking the man out this time. He was obvious about it too and when he looked Stiles in the face again, a slight blush dusted his cheeks. "I'm not that sorry."
"Y-you, uh, okay," Stiles stuttered out, hands flailing at his sides, not knowing what to do, unused to such forward flattery.
Peter took a step closer, a smirk curling his lips up. "I don't let just anyone cuddle me. I'll pick you up tomorrow, 7pm. Wear something decent."
Stiles mouth opened and closed without sound for a moment before he set his jaw. Just as his father's cruiser turned the corner, he leaned forwards and gave Peter a quick peck on the lips. His lips just brushing Peter's, Stiles murmured, "If you weren't so hot, I would have punched you for being so presumptive."
Peter chuckled, "Good thing you're pretty handsome yourself, or I would have punched you for sleep cuddling me." He curled a hand around Stiles hip, trailing his fingers along the skin exposed by a top small t-shirt. With quick fingers, he slipped Stiles phone out his pocket, already unlocking and typing in his number, dead calling it before sliding it daintily in Stiles back pocket. There, now they both had each other's numbers.
Stiles shook his head smirking as his father pulled up and honked his horn. They both turned, still too close together, to see the unimpressed sigh of Sheriff Stilinski through the windshield. Stiles smiled apologetically, raising his hand.
Turning back to Peter, Stiles shook his head slightly in disbelief, a small smile on his lips. "See you tomorrow then, husband ," he chuckled.
Peter watched as his niece skidded round the corner and parked behind the Sheriff haphazardly. Her sharp smirk and sunglasses were a familiar sight. He smirked, eyes hooded at Stiles as they both moved to their respective cars. "Till then, babe ."