A/N: Here's the third story in the Good Enough to Eat series! More sweet, than anything. Enjoy!
Music Inspiration/Song suggestion: "Bed" – Nicki Minaj featuring Ariana Grande
I've been seeing Peter for a while. It's been a few months, since I helped cater that party for Peter. The sex is great, but other than that, I'm not sure where we stand. We're together, in the way that we don't sleep with anyone else... but I don't know if we're more than that.
Peter has a way of making me forget about everything else outside of him. Once he touches me, all other thought dissipates. It's that erotic voodoo that he has.
"What's on your mind, Stiles? You're never this still or this quiet." Isaac pressed. I shrugged and debated on whether or not I wanted to have this conversation with Isaac of all people.
"I'm just thinking about things." I mused, making my answer intentionally vague. He smirked and rolled his eyes.
"That's never good." He teased.
"Don't you have scarves you can go organize?" I quipped back. He laughed at my outburst. "It's about Peter, okay. I'm just not sure where we stand - where I stand... We have sex and it's beyond great, but I don't know if it's more than that. I hate not knowing." I sighed. Isaac's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
"You could just ask him, Stiles. You both seem pretty into each other. Just because you haven't really defined whatever it is the two of you are doing, I wouldn't worry. I've never seen Peter look at anyone or chase anyone as much as he has with you. And you've never even looked at Lydia, the way that you look at Peter. It's gross, really, how into each other you are." Isaac leveled with me. I bit my lip and mulled over his advice. He's not wrong. I know that he's not, but it doesn't help the uneasiness that I'm feeling.
"You're probably right. But, enough about me. When are you gonna make a move on Danny? You've been making heart-eyes at him for months." I pressed. Isaac blushed and averted his eyes.
"We aren't talking about me. We're talking about you." He deflected.
"Stiles isn't wrong, Isaac. You should pursue Danny. The feeling is mutual. He always smells aroused, when he's near you." Peter tutted, as he walked into the room. Heat spread across my face. How much of our conversation did he hear? "Anyway, I need to have a word with Stiles and I would rather not have an audience. Would you care to join me on a walk, sweetheart?" Peter asked me.
"Okay," I agreed. Peter put a hand on the small of my back and I let him lead me out of the house. He slipped his hand into mine and we walked down the old country road outside of Peter's house.
"Isaac is right, darling. You can always talk to me." Peter told me. My heart thudded. I knew that he had heard every word. Maybe it's better that he did, because now this conversation is finally happening.
"Logically, I know that I can, Peter. I just... I didn't want to come off as insecure as I was feeling. You've never made me feel like you didn't want me. I just... I was afraid that if we had this conversation and you told me that you only wanted me for sex... I knew that things would change for us in a bad way." I stumbled over my words.
"Dear Stiles, I will always want sex with you, but that will never be all that I want with you. Call me possessive, that's fine, because I am. I want everything that you have to offer and I don't want you to share that with anyone else. I want you to be mine in every sense of the word. I want you as my lover, my friend, my companion. I don't want anyone else. I apologize if I've ever made you feel differently." Peter admitted. I stopped walking in my tracks. I turned to face Peter.
"You're serious." I breathed.
"As a heart attack, kitten." He promised. I closed my eyes in relief. And threw my arms around Peter, grinning like mad.
"I want that, too." I whispered. Peter pulled back around the look me in the eye. My breath caught, when his eyes flashed electric blue. He touched his lips to mine and I forgot how to breathe.
"Are you mine, Stiles?" Peter breathed. I nodded.
"Yes," I told him.
"Then shall we go to bed, sweetheart?" He suggested. I bit my lip and nodded.
"Are you gonna carry me over the threshold and tell me how pretty I am, along the way?" I teased.
"Of course, sweetheart. There's no other way I'd rather do it. I have a bed with your name on it and you're going to look obscenely beautiful, as I take you apart again and again."