It shouldn't have come as a surprise really that it was Peter who first looked towards Stiles as the Nogitsune. After all he was the resident sociopath, how could he not share a certain kinship with a demon who fed on chaos and pain. In a way Peter couldn't believe nobody else had noticed the admittedly subtle but very noticeable differences in the human boy. A new sharpness to the boy's movements, like a barely restrained violence just waiting to break free. A hint of menace to his once simply mischievous smiles, something that promised whoever was on the other end pain for nothing more than his pleasure and amusement.
If he was being perfectly honest Peter believed Stiles had the potential to be just as dangerous as the fox demon wearing his face. If it kept a member off of the list of people that he cared about safe he wouldn't hesitate to kill, and if it was needed Peter could even see Stiles resorting to torture. And god would he be glorious, all righteous fire. So unlike this void trying and failing to mimic a boy this fox so obviously didn't understand, because if anything could be said about him with certainty it's that Stile's has complicated motivations.
His thought process much like Peter's looked forward always moves ahead of whoever he thought of as his opponent. There were traps and diversions, misdirections and sins of omission. A boy too clever by half, who truly managed to impress the eldest wolf of Beacon Hills by managing to lie with not so much as a blip or increase in speed of his heart rate simply by taking a different look at the words chosen in whatever question he's being asked. Just ask the Sheriff, when he's asked if he's lying Stiles thinks of reclining in a horizontal position.
Early on Peter learned to be both specific and all but incapable of misinterpretation when asking the teen who grudgingly had his respect in his ability to hide the truth from all of them. Even if at the same time it made him want to snarl every time feeling like he'd just been had by a seventeen year old, hyperactive, pain in the ass. Which is another thing that the Nogitsune couldn't get right.
Stiles used words as distraction, weapons both defensive and offensive, they were his tools of choice and despite what many believed he never said a word without thinking. Now, whether or not his stream of babble was meant to be understood is always up to him. Peter was pulled out of his thoughts by a voice so familiar and yet so different than he remembered. "Hey creeper wolf, I heard you like the wild ones." Honey colored eyes shining with mischief so like the real thing almost made Peter want to dismiss he instinct on the matter as he leaned back into the couch in his nephew's dilapidated loft slinging his arms along the back with no other reaction than a raised eyebrow.
Which apparently was enough for the boy to continue by shedding both his hoodie and ever present plaid over-shirt in one go before stalking forward with a distorted sort of grace that the real Stiles would never have been able to accomplish planting a knee on each side of Peter's hips. Crotches pressed together and with a filthy grin he leaned his weight back onto hands now resting on Peter's knees arching his spine in a delightful display that had an involuntary growl rumbling through his chest at the sight. Even if he knew It wasn't really Stiles his traitorous body was still reacting to it as if it was.
"You shouldn't be offering things that aren't yours to bargain with." Ignoring the wolf's words with a high whine followed by a slow deliberate roll of hips, Stiles licked his lips before replying in a rough voice that promised oh so much pleasure, "He thinks about scenarios very much like this one. Of course the poor boy doesn't think you'd be interested." Another hard roll of hips that caused a delicious catch and drag of their cocks hidden and hardening under layers of denim. "He doesn't see what I can see. The want just simmering under the surface, you really do like him. You know he always thought that was a lie, and after the molotov cocktail he served you he is waiting for your punishment. Kinky little fucker sometimes gets off thinking about how you would make him pay."
Peter's eyes flashed to their electric glowing blue as his fangs lengthened at the thought of the real Stiles alone in his room face down biting a pillow to muffle all the whimpers and moans, ass up fingers splitting his virgin hole open wide to thoughts of him. Wishing it was Peter's fingers rather than his own, expecting retribution for the part he played in his death, burning with shame that he enjoyed it. "Knew you'd like that tie bit of information."
Snarling Peter took hold of the boys neck with claw tipped fingers slowly starting to squeeze pissed that this thing wearing the teenage boy's face was right, he did like the information. "He's still awake in here Peter, fighting me tooth and nail to break free." It's eyes closed in bliss, smiling wide not fighting Peter's hold on it's neck but rather increasing the speed in which their hips rolled together, delicious friction making it harder to focus on the words rather than sensation. Tipping it's head back with a groan pushing Stiles' neck further into Peter's grip it continued it's torment of words in a pleasure filled gasp so out of place with what was being said.
"He's screaming. Begging for you to kill him before i can use him to hurt anyone else. He knew you'd be able to see the monster wearing his face." And for just a moment Peter could feel his heart stop before doubling in pace. Shock and an angry disbelief flooded him at this things words, there was no way they were true. "No, no he wouldn't do that. Wouldn't come to me for help. You're lying!" The boy's body shuddered hard for a moment hips finally quitting their torment before honey brown eyes opened wet with tears that streaked down his cheeks hands coming up to grasp at Peter's wrist, but not to remove his grip but rather to encourage a firmer hold.
Immediately Peter could see that this was the real Stiles, the boy who ran with wolves. "Peter, please! I can't stop him, I'm not strong enough. Don't let me hurt anyone else." A frustrated sob escaped the boy's pink lips as Peter's claws and fangs receded in shock listening as the teenager continued to plead with the wolf, "This is his game and Scott and the others don't know the rules. They can't see, won't see until it's too late. You can end it. Just tell Derek my life as a human has to end. Do you understand Peter? You know there can't be both fox and wolf. I want the wolves to win."
And as quickly as he appeared the boy he knew was gone, once again replaced by the Nogitsune who grinned like a kid on Christmas unaware of the words still ringing in Peter's ears. The true meaning lost on the fox who was too busy reveling in the turmoil it believed it caused by allowing Peter a glimpse of the boy trapped in his own mind, assuming Stiles had truly been begging for death. In it's arrogance the fox missed what was really being said to probably the only person who would understand he wasn't screaming for death but rather begging for change. After all he couldn't be both fox and wolf.