I've started to write this some weeks ago, the new episodes kick the plot up. Set after Season 2, using information from Season 3.

At first I was writing this much darker and I was planning to make Peter a big of manipulator, but... Somehow, very soon I deleted all the dub/con stuff and in the end Peter started smiling under my fingers and even acting... nice?

Basically, I love Peter to death and PeterXStiles needs more of consensual fics

Chapter 1

Peter returning back from the world of death surprises everyone. Stiles doesn't understand why Derek is calm and okay with that, as if he wasn't the one who sent him under the ground. He remembers the last moments when Peter's burnt down body was helplessly lying in the mud before Derek used his claws to take the life from him. Not for long, though. They fought over Gerard and Jackson finally turned into a regular puppy with Lydia attached to his side and Stiles got over them enough that his heart could finally stop bleeding every time he saw them together.

Derek rented wisely a new apartment on the opposite side of the town than was the Hale's house and left the past behind in a process including a transaction on his bank account. Unfortunately for Stiles, he has to drive for twenty more minutes to get there and this day he also absolves one shopping stop before finally arriving at a pack meeting. He really isn't surprise to see Peter leaning against the spiral stairs with the rest of the pack on the other side of the room growling and Derek standing in the middle of the mess, trying to get it under control. After he shoves the door close, Peter turns his head at him and sneers amusedly as Stiles rolls his eyes.

"You don't have to agree, but you have to accept Peter as an equal member of this pack as all of you. End of discussion," Derek growls in his Alpha's voice and gets some more barks in response. Stiles sneaks along without paying much attention to them, pissing off everybody isn't anything special for the man and he doesn't wish to have any problems with him. He's carrying bags with food and goes straight into a barely equipped kitchen and starts taking out boxes with take outs Chinese's. Derek has created a special account for the pack's expense and they have been regularly alternating in bringing food and supplies. He turns around for plates and jumps on his spot when he sees Peter leaning against a wall that can be called a door frame.

"Jesus! Did they throw you out?" He grits his teeth and slams the door of the kitchen cabinet harsher than he should.

"I prefer to call it Derek kindly asked me to give you a helping hand." Peter reaches and catches his wrist that he almost drops his load. Peter slowly runs his hands over Stiles's and takes the pile of plates from him. Stiles stares down a while at their joined hands before stepping back shaking nervously. He's turning away from him and pretending nothing has happened.

"It's always a pleasure to see you, Stiles." Peter is still standing behind him and Stiles wishes he goes away soon.

"The pleasure is all yours. You're just messing with people. Nobody would miss you if you decided to leave the town for a while." Or permanently.

"Aren't we having a kind of a daring tongue?"

"You are the one to talk as you are the first un-dead I've participated to kill," Stiles makes a funny face. "I forgot my manners around you, I guess."

Peter clicks his tongue. "Perhaps I can teach you some manners," he mutters close to his ear and his hand strokes Stiles's lower back shortly before disappearing from the room. Stiles is staring into the empty hallway after him, then shakes his head and continues to unpack their dinner.

ˇˇˇˇˇˇ

Stiles isn't that surprises to see his window opened when he comes home from lacrosse training the other day.

"Get out," he mutters in the direction of the man's figure sitting in his chair and unashamedly going through his stuff on his table while he goes to his wardrobe for a clean shirt.

"You are being impolite to your guest."

"You are being insufferable. I don't remember sending you an invitation. And breaking into other's people houses is a crime."

"Is that so?"

"What do you want," Stiles mutters as he is going back to the door. He doesn't manage it because before he could leave, Peter is on his feet and blocks the way with his arm. Stiles brings his eyes to his face for the first time.

"Just a little chat," Peter smiles wickedly and against his will Stiles shivers and looks down. He considers his options, he could try to run away, his car keys are in his pocket, but his phone is in his bag next to his bed and he wouldn't have enough time to get it before Peter would stop him.

"I don't think there is anything we can talk about," he rocks on his heels and shoves his palm against the man's shoulder. "What about you leaving and then I can finally go into a shower?"

Peter's arm is solid when Stiles presses against it. "As soon as you hear me out, I'll go."

Stiles wriggles on his spot impatiently. "Fine," he mutters and turns around. "Make yourself comfortable. Make here a nest if it helps." He can't stop the sarcasm running from his mouth and throws his arms into the air, but he doesn't get to move away as Peter sneaks his one hand around his waist effectively stopping him, his chest presses to his back.

"I'll do my best." Stiles feels as he runs his nose in his hair and sniffs. He shudders and jumps away from him.

"Don't do those creepy werewolf things on me, okay?" He points at him. "I'll be here and you stay over there."

"Is my presence making you nervous?" Peter tilts his head questioningly and goes to him.

"How could a psychotic werewolf in my room make me nervous? I'm completely fine, don't you see?" Stiles makes a step back, but stumbles over his feet and catches the edge of his bed to steady himself. "I really don't want to die today. It's pointless to have my death on your list. It's pretty full already. Hurting people is bad, don't you know?" Stiles babbles as he falls on his ass on the bed and stares up at him.

"Killing you isn't on my nowadays agenda, but I can promise you, if I ever have to kill you, I'll make sure it won't be meaningless."

"Strangely, you promises never make me feel better."

The bemused smile on the man's face only widens and he steps closer to him again. "And now why I'm here. Take off your shirt."

"Uh, no?"

"It's not a proposal for a strip. I actually need your shirt."

"Is this a werewolf thing? Are you going to do a voodoo doll from it? If it's something sick I don't even want to know. You should have just taken some from my laundry and never tell me."

"And miss this conversation with you? Ts-ts, Stiles. Now, will you give me the shirt or do you want me to make you?"

The bold make me immediately itches on the top of his tongue, but he only takes in a deep breath before taking his shirt over his head and putting on the clean one with a deep blush in his face. Peter moves close enough to take it from the bed to bring it to his nose and sniff it with his eyes fixed with Stiles's.

"Will you give it back?"

"I'll see you later, Stiles," Peter gives him a last smirk before heading to the window and disappearing out.

ˇˇˇˇˇˇ

He really, really doesn't wish it to be happening. And being participated on it. Deliberately. Knowingly. But Peter is following him simply everywhere.

He runs his fingers over Stiles's back while passing by him, or accidentally touches his leg with his under a table, or holds a door for him with a smirk on his face. He enjoys making him jump in surprise with appearing behind him and leaning against his arm or gives him a helping hand when he has a trouble to carry something heavy. Sometimes it looks like an accident, just a brush that can happen in a room full of people, but sometimes Stiles knows, Peter touches him with an intention. He can't exactly tell him to stop, because these aren't any proves of his actions and simple 'don't touch me' doesn't have the desired effect and Peter even publicly accuses him of making things up and seeing things where they aren't after he's tried to scold him after brushing his hand over Stiles's leg

And well…yeah. It does feel good.

That's also why he doesn't fight it that much. He only doesn't what it could cause if he started to pay him the attention back. Not that he doesn't want to.

ˇˇˇˇˇˇ

Stiles is earlier this time when he arrives at the new Derek's loft, it's upon Scott and Allyson to go shopping this time. He feels the eyes on his back while against his better judgment he moves on the side of the room where Peter's looming by a window. He sits on a sofa near to him and doesn't need to wait long for Peter moving to stand behind him with his hand leaning against the backrest and simultaneously Stiles's head. A probably human nail slowly scratches up and down over his neck and under his chin and sends a cold chilling down the Stiles's spin and lower to his groin, but a minute or two later Peter goes out of the room, leaving Stiles alone and he can breathe normally again. Derek is coming down the stairs with Isaac in a second later with a hammer and a water-level in his hands and he gives Stiles a few seconds longer look than is normal when he enters the room and Stiles can see how he sharply takes in an air through his nose.

He feels like he can't do anything that the werewolves wouldn't notice. His fear, anger, sadness, nervousness or arousal - he can hold his back straight up and face blank, but his strongly beating heart, quickened breath and sweat strolling down his back always betray him. But nobody ever tells anything aloud. Sometimes when something concerns him, he feels as Derek or Isaac dedicate him a glance, but they never ask.

But Peter, he does. He's not afraid giving others questions that hurt; he digs into the ache spot and makes them squirm. Nevertheless, it seems he has an odd fondness in asking Stiles in private. His visits in his room become regular and Stiles hates to admit it, but he is always waiting if he shows up that night, again. Locking the window or repeating requests to be left alone never help and in the bottom of his soul he knows he actually doesn't mean them that seriously. Despite everything that happened, he doesn't feel such venom to him that he would guess.

The man asks him about Stile's mother while going through pictures on his table, his dad as he reads files of old cases that Stiles keeps secretly in his drawers. The other day he would sniff around the room and ask him about a little stuff he keeps around, his memories in a form of posters, toys or books. But his questions are trivial only at the beginning, he goes deeper to find Stiles's dreams, his fears; what he likes or dislikes. Stiles feels like enduring a sociological project and tries to avoid most of the questions or ignoring him. Which is not much as optional under his piercing stare.

Having conversations with Peter Hale is never what he accepts to be and he fights with his embarrassment to answer truthfully. Because when he would say a lie, Peter would stand up and leave and maybe not come over for a couple of days. He once didn't return for five days in a row and Stiles almost called him, but he stopped himself. He didn't wish him to come, right?

Peter has to know how this affects him. Stiles has already stopped asking him why he's doing it. But he never lets Stiles to win. It's a truth he mostly appears when his dad isn't home, but it's not a rule. He never allows Stiles to decide when they would meet again. He's tried to come over to Derek's flat after school, just to find it empty or at least Peter-free. And then Stiles has to wait at home for him. He hates that. The waiting. Pack meetings are the only time he can be prepared.

After they are all finished with their dinner and the plates and forks are put into a sink, Derek leans back in his seat and clears his throat. It's a clear sign he has something he wants to say and with eyes fixed on a wall he starts to talk.

"We've decided to do some arranging before the summer, since the Alpha pack left the sign, we can't let them hit first now. Stiles, Scott and Jackson are always going to drive to school and back together in one car with Isaac, Peter or me until the school is over. We are going to stick together and nobody can stay alone or they can kill us one by one. They probably are holding Erika and Boyd as captives, we are still searching for them," Derek meets his eyes with Peter who nods.

Lydia clicks her tongue disapprovingly. "And what about me and Allyson? No car is that big and Jackson-"

"You two are fine for now; from what we know, they aren't interested in the humans." Derek interrupts her and she frowns. "But, nevertheless, you are going to have to learn how to protect yourself."

"I can teach her," Allyson offers. "But my dad can't know. He locked all the weapons in the basement and pretends hunters never existed."

"We'll figure it out, come with ideas when you have them sorted. Go home now," Derek answers shortly as he wishes them to leave and stands up.

"Hey! And what about this human over here? Shouldn't I have some training? I want my gun, too," Stiles calls out after Derek shows them his back. He doesn't answer and disappears from the room through the spiral stairs. Allyson ignores him completely. Stiles throws his arms in the air and looks around. Isaac avoids his eyes, Scott with Allyson as same as Lydia with Jackson are already at the door and only Scott turns around and shrugs at him before going out. Only Peter holds his look but doesn't say anything.

"Fine." He mutters more to himself and stands up. Words like useless and alone screams in his head when he goes to the door, but he can't close them as Peter's hand is holding the door knob from the other side.

"I'm going with you," Peter says as it's obvious.

"No!" Stiles's heart jumps with the image of being with him alone and tugs the door again.

"You are not driving alone, didn't you hear the Alpha?" Peter plays with the last word in a mocking way. Stiles turns his desperate eyes at Isaac, but Peter calls out at Derek who after a while comes back.

"Derek, tell Stiles here with whom he's driving home."

Derek blows out an air from his nose, obviously suppressing an anger that Stiles doesn't know from where it's coming. To Stiles disappointment he doesn't point at Isaac as he hoped, but throws his head at Peter who grins widely.

"Told you," he mutters into Stiles's ear and shoves him forward.

"He hates me," Stiles whines and Peter behind him laughs. Stiles wants to wipe the smile off his face. "But how will you get back if you go with me now? Are you going to run back over the city?"

"Don't be worry, I'll manage." His palm is placed on his neck as they are coming close to the exit of the old building; Stiles can already see his car and quickens his steps.

"Stiles, wait," Peter's voice hits him from behind and he freezes. "Should I really believe," Peter says and makes one or two steps forward. "That you are so annoyed by me," his hand appears on his side and his fingers slightly delved to his ribs. "Or are you acting up for the rest of them as you are afraid to show, you don't exactly hate me?"

Stiles looks down at Peter's wolfed out hand. "I might not wish to see you dead anymore, but take your fucking claws of me. I'm sure Derek can hear me if I scream and he won't miss a chance to kick your ass."

"He doesn't care about you."

"And you? What are trying to prove here by showing off your strength? We both know you are much stronger than me, are you going to force me though?" Peter doesn't answer verbally, but his arm moves away from Stiles's body.

"That's right; buddy, no bad touching and we can be fine."

"Your body is peculiarly sensitive to my touch," Peter continues after he settles in a passenger's seat.

"That doesn't give you a right to do it."

"It gives me an opportunity."

"I offer a finger and you take a whole hand?"

"Try me and see."

"That's fine," he says wryly; Peter shrugs and turns his head to look out of a window.

They are driving through the city in an evening sunlight in a content silent. Stiles doesn't cross the speed limit at any point, even the traffic is low and he didn't notice a single police car.

And after he stops on a traffic light near to his house, Peter wordlessly exits the car and gets lost between the buildings.

I'm sorry for all the mistakes you find, English is not my first language and this work is obviously unbeta-readed (the position is open for you if anyone is interested).

More chapters are to go up, most of it is written, in the end I see it for about 30k;)

Thanks for your time:)