Okay, so I've never written for the fandom before but I stumbled across Peter/Isaac fiction while perusing some Sterek stories and the muse bug bite me. This was originally going to be a oneshot but it's expanded, so it'll probably be a couple chapters. I just wanted to toss this out there to see how people liked it. Also, I might write more for this verse because it's fun (I already have ideas brewing for how Stiles and Derek got together). Happy reading!

Oh, and getting some feedback would be lovely.

Also, here's a playlist to listen to if you like while reading (I've never done this before, but I'm a little obsessed with Spotify at the moment):

War of Hearts - Ruelle

Black Sheep - Metric

River - Bishop

Heavy in Your Arms - Florence and the Machine

Isaac doesn't know why he's back here.

Well, he does. Scott and Allison are finally getting married. After years of gang rivalry and a love that could rival Romeo and Juliet, Scott convinced Allison they were worth it.

It still doesn't explain why Isaac decided to physically come back for the wedding. He could have sent a card or an edible arrangement. Scott would have understood. And yet, Isaac found himself here on the outskirts of his hometown. Four years should be long enough to let go.

Beacon Hills never looked so small and yet so daunting.

With a sigh, he kicked his bike into gear and sped down the road with a grumbling roar, the sun breaking along the horizon the only warm welcome he'd probably get here.

The address Scott gave him led him to a newly renovated area near the more artsy district in downtown. Streets filled with early Monday morning traffic but Isaac weaved through it effortlessly, guiding his bike like a snake slithering along water. He found a spot to park along the main road and headed toward a brick townhome between two others, similar but still characteristically different. Isaac remembered Scott telling him over Skype that these buildings had some sort of historic significance and couldn't be changed except for some minor renovations. Scott always sounded so proud when he talked about it and Isaac always thought he was hopelessly endearing with his desire for domesticity.

"Isaac! You're here!"

Isaac looked up, helmet in hand. Allison stood on the porch, dark hair in a loose bun and wearing workout clothes. She darted down the stairs and practically jumped on him. He laughed and hugged her tightly, trying not to hit her with his helmet.

"Going somewhere?" Isaac stepped back and put his helmet away.

"Going for a run." She shook her phone at him. "Lydia threatened bridal boot camp."

"Lydia's here?" Isaac raised an eyebrow. They had kept in touch because no one said no to Lydia, but last he heard she was in New York working on her masters.

"She flew in on Saturday." Allison began jogging in place, her smile beaming. "She has plans for this week."

"I'm sure she does. Good luck."

Allison rolled her eyes but her fond smile revealed how she felt about her best friend. "Well, Scott's making breakfast. You can go right in."

"Scott's right here." A cheery voice answered at the door. Scott looked like he had just woken up if his worn pajama pants had anything to say about it, but his warm eyes were bright with excitement. He ran down the stairs and hugged Isaac, patting his back. "Where's all your stuff man?"

Isaac scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. He opened his seat and pulled out a backpack, hardly filled like it should be for a week-long stay. "Uh, I was planning on buying some things out here?"

Scott shook his head with a laugh, beckoning Isaac inside. "Still hopeless." He leaned in and kissed Allison on the cheek. "See you after your run, babe."

Allison blew them both kisses and jogged away. Isaac looked at Scott's welcoming face and the smell of bacon filtering out of their home and couldn't help but think maybe this trip wouldn't be such a bad idea.

This trip was such a bad idea.

After breakfast, Lydia heard from Allison about his "dire" clothing situation and she came over and took Isaac shopping, which turned into a five-hour affair with only a minimal makeover meltdown from the strawberry blonde. He'd have to ship his new wardrobe home, but it was nice to be fussed over. It reminded him of when they were in high school and he had a family to worry over him. A mismatched pack he loved. He told himself he didn't miss being taken care of, because those thoughts led to the man that always made sure he wanted for nothing and that was dangerous territory for his mind to slip into.

They were putting his hoard of shopping bags into the trunk of Lydia's rental when he heard it, an engine rumbling like a landslide. Isaac's shoulders tensed. He already made a deal with himself to refuse to be afraid of every motorcycle he heard in town, but he knew that engine like a child remembered their favorite lullaby. It haunted his dreams when loneliness cradled him at nights.

"Derek." Lydia's voice held slight disdain, but her eyes showed her surprise.

Isaac whipped his head around, eyebrows confused. This couldn't be happening right now. His blue eyes raked along the bike he remembered so well, but the wrong body settled on top of it. Where he expected a playful smirk and sharp eyes, he met the brooding gaze and twisted mouth of Derek Hale. He looked just as menacing as before, his moodiness chiseled like his sharp cheekbones. Isaac and Derek stared at each other for a tense moment and like time hadn't passed, Isaac gave in first. He always did.

"Don't you have anything to say?" Isaac held his arm across his waist, trying not to curl his shoulders in defense.

"I thought Boyd was kidding when he said he saw you in town." Derek grumbled, setting his feet on the ground but making no move to get off the bike. "That you came back."

"I'm not back-"

"Right, just visiting." Derek cut him off and crossed his arms over his chest, leather jacket rustling with the movement. "Without telling anyone. Sneaking in like you snuck out?"

"Why are you on his bike?" Isaac said instead, immediately defensive and hating that this is how they're meeting again. Of course, neither of them had ever been good with communication so this should be expected. Isaac felt Lydia's glare at the back of his head for asking what he's not supposed to be asking, but he needed to know. Scott would have told him if something happened to Peter but his stomach twisted anyway.

"Relax, Aidan's working on mine." Derek raised an unimpressed eyebrow like he knew what was running through Isaac's panicking mind.

Isaac's shoulders immediately fell in relief, but Derek's next words made them tighten again.

"He doesn't know you're here. I recommend keeping it that way."

"You know that's unrealistic," Lydia cut in, flipping her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder. "No one can keep a secret in this town, let alone from him."

"Yeah, well I won't be the one to tell him. You'd be better off staying away."

"I wasn't planning on seeing him." Isaac tugged on his scarf and looked down, feeling the lie loud on his lips as if he yelled it.

Derek snorted. "It's best if you don't. He'll come for you once he finds out." He revved the bike and picked his legs up. "You shouldn't have come back."

With that, he rode off, leaving Isaac's chest fluttering like a firefly stuck in a sealed jar.

"Welcome back, Isaac, missed you too," he muttered dryly under his breath, but it must have been loud enough because Lydia laughed bitterly.

"Come on, Isaac. I know some people that will actually be glad to see you." Lydia didn't wait for an answer as she got in the car.

Isaac tugged on his scarf again. Lydia continued to chatter away while they drove through town but all Isaac could hear was Derek's voice on repeat. He'll come for you.

He never came. Granted it was only Wednesday. It was only two days, but Isaac knew Peter Hale better than he probably should. The Peter Hale he remembered would have showed up Monday night and dragged him back to the Hale house demanding his whereabouts for the past four years and then reminding him who owned him. Hell, he would have been lounging against the Beacon Hills entry sign when Isaac rode in Monday morning, looking smug like he summoned Isaac himself. Peter always understood him better than Isaac understood himself.

Luckily, Scott kept Isaac busy with wedding stuff. Since he had the best penmanship, Allison volunteered him to write out the table signs for each guest. He didn't argue, because it meant he could stay at Scott's without running into anyone at the wedding venue, where he assumed most of the pack would be helping with decorations and last-minute details. He refused to admit he was hiding.

Scott and Allison made sure their fridge housed all of Isaac's favorite snacks during his stay. Allison made a point to show him the large tub of Rocky Road ice cream, remembering how often he ate it when they were in high school. He didn't have the heart to tell her he stopped eating it because it reminded him of memories he didn't want to relive. He stared at the tempting tub for two days before finally giving in. It would be rude not to eat it and Allison would surely notice.

He ate it straight from the carton and pretended he wasn't affected. He pretended the taste of Rocky Road didn't remind him of when he first met Peter all those years ago.

He was fifteen and partnered with Cora Hale for an English project. He refused to work at his house in case his dad was having a bad day, so Cora offered up hers. Everyone knew about the Hale Wolves and their reputation. The Hale family was one of the original founding families of the town and somehow along the way, bikes and wolves became their symbol. They helped keep the town safe when the officials couldn't so people rarely complained when they rumbled into town on their bikes like posturing puppies.

Isaac looked at the large Hale manor in awe. Isaac knew about the Hale fire. Everyone did. The house had been patched up and looked fresh off the market without any sign of damage or heartbreak. The only indicator of the tragedy was a small group of headstones by the large oak in the back of the house serving as a memory never forgotten.

They studied in the dining room, books spread out and bowls of ice cream in hand. They had been talking and laughing more than studying and Laura had popped her head in multiple times to tell them to focus before she went back to making dinner.

Isaac had been laughing at something Cora said when Peter walked in. A white shirt rubbed between his dirty hands as he tried to wipe the grease off his bare chest. Isaac was in the middle of taking a bite of ice cream when he looked up, but froze until the ice cream melted off his spoon and fell on his shirt. He cursed and dabbed at it with his hand because he couldn't find a napkin, ignoring Cora's laugh.

He scooped up the fallen ice cream with his finger and brought it to his lips to suck off, unaware of his audience. Bright blue eyes glanced up to find the older shirtless man staring at him with a raised eyebrow and an amused smirk on his lips. Isaac blushed and looked away.

"Must be some damn good ice cream hmm? I can appreciate someone who doesn't waste a good thing," he said with a wink and if Isaac was asked about it later, he would have said Peter purred the words out because he never seemed to simply speak. He left after that and Isaac could hear water running but refused to think about anything further. His cheeks already burned from the memory of how Peter's abs glistened with sweat and car grease.

"Sorry, that's my Uncle Peter. He's weird but he teased you, which means he likes you," Cora said, her nose scrunched up when she looked at Isaac's red face. "Are you feeling alright?"

Isaac cleared his throat and nodded before diving into his studies. Peter never came back out the rest of the night, but Isaac heard an engine roar outside as someone rode away. It reminded him of a landslide.

Isaac opened his eyes and sighed as the memory faded. He looked at the clock and capped his pen. He was due to have lunch with Danny and Ethan in an hour.

After catching up with the couple, Isaac arrived at Scott and Allison's with just enough time to get ready for Scott's bachelor party.

"Who has a bachelor party on a Wednesday night?" Isaac leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Stiles pour shots of vodka in three small glasses.

"You didn't help plan it so you don't get a say, and you know pack dinner is on Fridays." Stiles grabbed a shot glass and downed it, his body shaking after like someone electrocuted him.

"Still can't handle your liquor?" Isaac taunted, relishing the burn down his throat when he took his shot.

"Shut up." Stiles poured another round for them. Stiles was the only other person that stayed in Beacon Hills that Isaac really kept in touch with over the past four years, even if their catching up involved more snarky bickering than heartfelt reunions.

"So where are we going anyway? And who's driving?" Isaac swallowed the second shot and licked his lips. "Because last I heard, your dad is still Sheriff and I'd rather not spend my vacation in a prison cell with your dad staring me down in disappointment."

Isaac had had enough of that before. Sheriff Stilinski knew about his abusive relationship with his father and then his relationship with Peter, which he constantly tried to undermine by threatening Peter with pedophile charges. He knew Stiles' dad meant well, but Isaac had a hard time being around his sympathetic eyes and fatherly attempts at protection.

Stiles wiped his lips with his hand. "Oh, don't worry about that. Derek's coming to pick us up."

Isaac's fingers loosened and he almost dropped the empty shot glass. "What?"

"Derek." Stiles looked at Isaac like he was dumb. "You know, my boyfriend? The one who used to be your best friend-"

"Yeah, I got it," Isaac snapped as he slammed the glass down on the kitchen counter. He suddenly felt dizzy and he wasn't sure if it was from the vodka thrumming through his veins or from the thought of seeing Derek again after their little parking lot meet and greet. The thought of seeing any of the Hale Wolves again sent his skin scorching with nerves. "Fuck, Stiles, why didn't you say anything?"

"Because you would have stayed sober and locked yourself in Scott's bedroom," Stiles raised his eyebrows as if challenging Isaac to deny it.

"I wouldn't take it that far…"

"He has a point," Scott cut in with an unsure smile. He squeezed Isaac's shoulder until he relaxed. "You have been hiding out since you got here."

"Fine, I'm a drama queen. Let's move on." He sighed and poured himself another shot before downing it, licking him lips after.

"There's a good boy." Stiles smacked Isaac's back with a wide smile. Isaac tried not to choke at the endearment. There's no way Stiles could have known how much that term of endearment meant to Isaac or how often Peter exploited it to get his way. A musical ringtone interrupted Isaac's thoughts.

'Hungry Like the Wolf' filled the kitchen and Stiles reached into his back pocket to pull out his phone. "Hey baby. You're outside? Great, we're heading down now." Stiles hung up and grabbed his jacket off the dining room chair. "Time to go boys. The night is young and so are we!"

Isaac threw his leather jacket on and looked at Stiles with a smirk. "You really have Duran Duran as your ringtone?"

"Just for Derek." Stiles looked back, honey eyes gleaming. "It's worth the irritated look he gives me."

"You guys really have a special relationship." Isaac rolled his eyes. Only Stiles would get off on making the second scariest guy in Beacon Hills angry on a daily basis.

Derek's Camaro rumbled outside of Scott's flat, still as sleek as Isaac remembered it. The Camaro always reminded him of drive-in movies with the younger members of the pack and long drives through the woods on lazy Sunday mornings.

When Stiles opened the door, Derek kept his gaze forward, eyebrows low.

"He's not getting in." It wasn't an observation but rather a demand, all posturing and gravel in his voice.

"Now you listen here, Sourwolf." Derek tensed at the nickname but didn't look at Stiles as he continued speaking. "Isaac is our friend. Just because Scott and I keep in touch with him and you don't isn't our problem. It's not our fault that both of you are too emotionally constipated to chat it out."

Derek's eyebrows raised into his hairline and he turned to his boyfriend. "You've been keeping in touch with him?"

"You didn't tell him we've been talking?" Isaac asked as he approached the car, his expression matching Derek's.

Stiles sighed in exasperation as he looked between them. "Really? That's what you get from this conversation?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Remind me again why we're dating?"

"Because the sex is mind blowing." Isaac deadpanned.

"Oh yes, thank you for that reminder." Stiles pulled back the front seat so Scott and Isaac could squish in the back. Isaac hesitated but sighed and stuffed himself in the back, purposefully avoiding Derek's glare in the rearview mirror.

"You talk about our sex life?"

"Yea, it's disgusting." Isaac buckled his seat belt and leaned back with his eyes closed. For a moment, it felt like old times. Like they could pretend nothing's changed and that Isaac didn't walk out on everyone without so much as a goodbye.

"I'm not emotionally constipated." Derek mumbled under his breath as he shifted gears, peeling off the main street. His lips formed into a frustrated pout that Stiles tried not to find adorable but always failed.

"I'll make it up to you later." Stiles reached over and kissed Derek's cheek. Isaac tried not to find their affection endearing especially when Derek literally preened under the attention like a pleased pup.

"So where are we going again?" Isaac tapped his fingers along his thigh impatiently.

Derek opened his mouth, but Stiles cut him off. "You'll see."

Isaac couldn't see Stiles' face but he knew that tone and that tone never promised anything good.

"No. No way." Isaac clenched his fists. "I'm not going in there."

"Fine with me." Derek thrust his car door open and got out before he slammed it and walked away, not looking back.

"You guys really need to have a talk." Scott sighed, watching Derek's back with a worried frown.

"Or a fist fight." Stiles added thoughtfully. "The Hales still have that boxing ring in their back yard. I could probably find some Socker Boppers on EBAY…"

"Stiles focus," Scott laughed.

Isaac ignored them and stared through the windshield at the building in front of them. He couldn't believe they brought him here. They should have just dropped him off at the Hale house, bound and gagged for their Alpha to enjoy, which really should have put Isaac off more than turned him on, but he stopped questioning why he liked what he did in the bedroom long ago.

A large sign with a howling wolf sat on top of the large building, blinking red. There were rows of bikes parked out in front, their metal gleaming underneath the lights of the neon sign of the bar.

"Wolfsbane? Really?" Isaac knew he was whining but he didn't care. "Is this your version of an intervention?"

"No, this is our version of a bachelor party." Stiles opened the car door and to let them out. "Come on, scaredy cat. You can't pretend you didn't see this coming."

Stiles grinned and headed toward the bar entrance where Derek leaned against the wall outside, obviously waiting for him but trying not to look it. Stiles wrapped his arms around his moody boyfriend and kissed him deeply before grabbing his hand and dragging him into the bar.

"Are you going to be okay?" Scott's soft concerned voice helped ease Isaac's quickened breaths.

"Yeah," Isaac swallowed. "Yeah. I mean, I knew I would have to face them sooner or later right? Besides tonight is about you."

Scott gave him a warm smile and hugged Isaac quickly before pushing him out of the car. "Drinks will help." He scrunched up his nose and tilted his head, which made Isaac think of a puppy. "I think."

Isaac laughed and followed him, hands stuffed in his pockets to control their shaking. He remembered all the nights he, Cora, and Erica snuck into Wolfsbane and tried to get Derek to give them drinks. He never would because they were still in high school and he's a stickler like that, but sometimes Laura let them drink some of the cheap stuff if they stayed in the back office. He wondered if it still looked the same inside.

The sounds of the bar smacked Isaac's senses around until he felt dizzy. The jukebox blared a sultry tune in the corner and Isaac recognized it as the same one from before because Peter refused to get a DJ even for nights like tonight. Every corner seemed to be filled with noise, bikers playing pool in the back, couples dancing in the center of the floor, and the bar filled with women hoping to attach themselves to one of the Hale wolves for the prestige of it. Nothing had changed and Isaac felt oddly glad for it.

As soon as they entered, someone grabbed Scott and threw him over their shoulder much to the excited shouts from the crowd. Scott looked up at Isaac as he was carried away into the cheering mass of leather jackets and toasting beer bottles. Isaac merely shook his head with a smile and waved him away. He lingered near the door, practically in the way of the entrance but his feet wouldn't move. It wasn't the first time he wished he wasn't so tall or so blonde.

It didn't take long for the excitement of Scott's arrival to settle enough for others to notice the tall outsider that used to be a part of the central core of the pack. Eyes shifted to him curiously and whispers grew into a soft crescendo until a hand landed on Isaac's shoulder in a firm grip. Isaac hated how he tensed.

"Dude, relax. I'll protect you from the wolves." Stiles laughed as he pulled Isaac toward the bar. He sipped a drink the color of radiator fluid through a ridiculous pink-striped bendy straw. Stiles lifted the drink to Isaac's lips. "This will help."

"Does Derek get those straws just for you?" Stiles' blush was answer enough. Isaac rolled his eyes and took a large sip, nose wrinkling after. "Ugh, it tastes like a gummy bear. What are you? Twelve?"

"Says the guy who drinks adult fruit juice."

"It's called cider and lots of people drink it."

"Yeah, people who go to your scarf club." Stiles took his drink back and slipped the straw between his lips again. It could have been considered sexy the way he was tonguing the straw but when he started chewing on it in distraction, it reminded Isaac more of the hyperactive teen that always irritated him back in high school. "Come on, let's get you some sophisticated cider to go with your infinity scarf."

"The fact that you know what they're called gives you an honorary membership."

They found an empty space at the bar and Isaac refused to look around again. He knew if people wanted to talk to him, they'd approach. One thing the Hale wolves were not was shy.

As if summoned, a familiar blonde head sauntered up to Isaac's other side. He saw a flash of red lips and a mix of excitement and fear shifted in his heart.

"Long time no see, Blondie." Erica smiled as she leaned against the bar but her eyes looked like sharpened glass underneath false lashes.

"Hello, Sunshine." Isaac turned toward her and bit his lower lip, wary to make any quick movements. They stared at each other before Erica jumped into his arms, legs wrapped around his waist as she hugged him fiercely. Her long nails scratched up his neck to his curls and Isaac felt his body instantly relax, reminded of Saturday afternoons on the couch watching chick flicks and gorging on candy while Erica scratched his scalp until he fell asleep.

She unwrapped her legs from his waist and pulled back. Then, she slapped his cheek. "Now we're even. You're just too pretty to be mad at."

"Which I won't be if you go for the face again." Isaac rubbed his cheek but smiled. She had merely tapped his cheek playfully, hardly using any of her strength. She had forgiven him.

"Well don't leave next time without a head's up and you get to keep your cute face intact."

"Okay, enough Lifetime bullshit. Let's drink." Stiles tried to wave a bartender down, his arms flailing.

"Whatever. We all know how much you love Lifetime." Erica smirked and crossed her arms over her chest.

"That would be Derek, sweetheart." Stiles stuck his tongue out before he practically crawled on the bar. "Boyd! We need shots pronto!"

Boyd looked over from where he was drying glasses and rolled his eyes. He swung his bar towel over his shoulder and headed toward them. "Get off the bar, Little Red. I don't care if you're screwing the owner, no one wants your ass where we serve the liquor." He looked straight at Isaac, his face unreadable. He didn't look surprised to see him, but then Isaac remembered Derek saying Boyd was the one who noticed him in town. Isaac tried to smile but it felt more like a grimace.

"They still call you Little Red?" Isaac commented on instead, looking away from Boyd's imploring gaze. Erica may be the outwardly fierce one but Isaac knew how much pack loyalty meant to Boyd and how disrespecting that could make Boyd's steel composure bend. It was one of the reasons he never reached out to Boyd after he left. He was too chicken to deal with the aftermath.

"These people are sadists." Stiles' voice grew louder as if he was announcing it to the whole bar. The fact that no one paid him any mind told Isaac just how much Stiles' special brand of humor was integrated here.

"And yet you still wore that red hoodie every day." Erica reached across Isaac and stole Stiles' drink. She ignored his squawk when she picked out his straw and tossed the rest of the drink back, her throat swallowing it easily. "In fact, you wore it just last week."

"It's comfortable."

"Masochist," Erica smiled in delight before turning to Boyd. "Babe, give your girl something with whiskey."

Boyd nodded and moved his arms like a well-trained octopus. He poured out four shots, passing three to them and keeping one for himself. He raised his glass and stared at Isaac in that quietly unnerving way of his that could make anyone confess to a crime, even one they didn't commit.

"Don't ignore us again or I'll let her loose on you." He tipped his head toward Erica with a wink before downing the liquor. Isaac nodded with a small smile and followed suit, the tingles from the whiskey making him more aware of the thump of bass coming from the jukebox.

"Come on, Stud. Let's dance." Erica grabbed Isaac's hand and pulled him toward the makeshift dance floor, leaving Stile behind to molest another bendy straw. There were some people on the floor but it wasn't so packed that Isaac felt suffocated. This felt familiar. Erica pressed back against him while they grinded to the beat. It's never been sexual between them and it isn't now either. They're just two bodies among others, lost to the beat of the music. Isaac closed his eyes and tipped his head back so the music could pump through him like the blood in his veins. This was the kind of escape he enjoyed. He liked being surrounded by people but not having to interact if he didn't want to. He didn't feel so alone when everyone moved together, undulating like ripples in a pond.

He remembered dancing here to the same jukebox blaring and the same dim lighting that felt private. He remembered what it felt like to be in Erica's place, with a hard body pressed against his back and persistent fingers digging into his hips, controlling him like a marionette. He remembered teasing words bit into his neck when he rested his head back against a solid shoulder, torn between wanting to freeze the moment and escaping to the back office to fulfill the filthy promises Peter whispered in his ear.

He shivered at the memory and snapped his eyes open. He couldn't forget where he was. He couldn't forget Peter must be lurking around here somewhere. In fact, he felt like he was being watched by those eyes that saw too much. He ignored the fact that Peter never came to find him or drag him home when he left, but Isaac was in his territory now. He was free game for the hunting.

"I need a drink," he whispered hoarsely in Erica's ear.

She playfully pushed him away with a wink before grabbing the nearest girl and dancing with her instead. Isaac found an opening near the end of the bar and he slid up against it, resting his elbows on the countertop while he waited to be noticed. A loud shout from the back corner had Isaac turning his head.

Scott and some guys Isaac recognized played a round of darts. Scott definitely had more to drink, because every dart he threw missed spectacularly. Isaac saw one stuck in the ceiling and suppressed a laugh. Stiles shoved a beer in one of Scott's hands and a dart in the other before pushing him toward the dartboard again. Scott tried to throw the dart but it didn't even make it to the board, instead falling to the ground like a crashing plane. Scott laughed and smiled good-naturedly before clinking his bottle with Stiles and chugging it. There was a time when Isaac wished he could have fallen in love with someone pure and good like Scott. Someone who only joined the Hale Wolves so he could protect his friends and help Beacon Hills when the law couldn't. Isaac shook his head fondly and glanced down at his clasped fingers. No, he preferred the manipulative and broken types with mocking mouths.

"Did you lose your way to the shelter, pup?"

Speak of the devil. Isaac choked on his breath at the nickname, remembering how often it was spoken against his sweaty skin while Peter pressed into him from behind. Isaac tightened his clasped hands until the knuckles whitened. He closed his eyes and forced a deep breath before turning around and leaning back against the bar until it cut into his waist painfully. Pain always helped ground him. He tried to look casual and careless but he knew Peter saw right through him. The amused glimmer in his eyes told Isaac that much. Peter always saw right through Isaac's attempts at hiding his fear.

Two bodies flanked Peter. One, a smirking boy about Isaac's age with the brightest green eyes he's ever seen and the second, a giggling girl who seemed to have lost most of her clothes somewhere in the bar and decided Peter's would be a suitable substitute, considering how much she kept tugging at his shirt. They're both draped around him like a tight-fitting jacket, something he can discard later. Isaac felt sick, a twist of jealousy jabbed like a knife in his gut.

"Funny," Isaac said, trying to keep his voice snide and steady. His eyes looked everywhere but at Peter's. "I always thought this place was a shelter for stray pups."

"Cute." Peter narrowed his eyes as he dragged them along Isaac's body like a possessive caress. "Learned some insolence while you were away?"

The girl giggled again and tugged at the hem of Peter's shirt, obvious with her need for attention. Isaac couldn't help but wonder if he had looked like this on Peter's arm, all wanton and needy. He knew the answer. Really it wasn't a question. He had always been desperate for Peter's attention. Even now, he fought the urge to press himself against Peter, wanting to claim him and be claimed in return.

"Alpha, you promised me a dance." She blinked her large brown eyes up at him. Most men wouldn't be able to resist her but Peter had more self-control than Isaac had ever seen in someone and he knew a pretty face didn't sway him unless he wanted to be swayed.

"That I did, but I have some business to attend to at the moment," Peter purred but his eyes still hadn't left Isaac yet. It made Isaac want to fidget but he refused to show submission, even if that's what he yearned to do. "Why don't you go be a dear and dance with our guest of honor? I'm sure McCall would appreciate your talents."

They both knew Scott wouldn't lay a finger on her, he was too honorable, but the bombshell seemed to think it was a fine idea. She kissed Peter's cheek and flounced off. Isaac's eyes moved to the boy still by Peter's side. Peter's arm wrapped around the slim boy's waist, fingers grasping the fabric of his shirt tightly like one would hold a dog leash.

Isaac swallowed down bile when Peter leaned in and kissed the boy, sliding his tongue harshly into his mouth until the boy became pliant underneath his touch. The worst part was, Peter's eyes never left Isaac's, holding him captive with just a look as he sucked on the boy's bottom lip. This was just another game, just another test of dominance and mind-fuckery that Peter had a doctorate in. Isaac knew better than to be affected but his skin prickled with jealousy while he watched their tongues slide together.

When nausea threatened to overtake him, Isaac tore his eyes away and looked at the floor. His eyes stung like he forgot to blink and he focused his attention to the scuff on his shoe. He needed to focus on anything besides Peter Hale owning him without touching him.

He should get out of here. Maybe follow that bombshell to Scott where he might feel a little safer, or even find Derek so they can stare at each other awkwardly until they forgive each other. Anywhere but here. A finger tipped his chin up and he knew it was too late to run now.

"There's no need to be shy," Peter murmured, trailing his finger along Isaac's jaw until it outlined his cheekbone, leaving a line of tingling fire behind. The boy with the green eyes disappeared, probably dismissed as easily as the girl, because Peter didn't allow clinginess when he didn't want it.

Isaac shuddered out a breath and forced his eyes back up. He grabbed Peter's wrist and pulled his hand away from his face. Peter's eyes flashed in irritation for a moment before he smiled again, all charm and control.

"I thought you liked me shy." Isaac gazed from underneath his lashes, shivering when he heard Peter's throaty growl. He knew better than to encourage this game they played but his voice spoke the words without his control, uncaring if it complicated things. He felt himself slip into the role he always played with his Alpha.

Peter leaned in, his hand slipping around Isaac's waist and maneuvering itself under his shirt until his thumb pressed into the soft skin of Isaac's hipbone. The smell of smoke and citrus overwhelmed Isaac like a bad dream. "I liked you a lot of ways if you remember correctly."

Isaac swallowed and tried to lean away from Peter's touch, but the bar pressing into his back kept him stuck. Peter tried to pull him forward, but Isaac resisted which only made Peter huff in exasperation and press up against him instead.

Peter's body felt warm and solid, more comforting than suffocating and Isaac really wished it was the latter instead. It made pushing him away that much more difficult. People stared at them, some with open mistrust and others with amusement and Isaac craved privacy more than anything right now.

"Peter, please stop."

"Now, now pup, that's not what you call me and you know it." Peter leaned in and brushed his stubble along the tender skin of Isaac's neck, making heat pool in his groin.

"I'm not calling you that," Isaac stammered. His hands still grasped the bar behind him, fingers clenching the wood to steady himself. He refused to give in and touch Peter. He refused to lose this easily even if his nerves begged him to.

"You're no fun," Peter murmured against his skin.

"You don't get to do this. You can't just walk up to me like nothing has changed."

"I'll do whatever I damn well please, pup." Peter demonstrated this by pulling down Isaac's scarf and licking a line up his neck before nipping under his ear.

"Peter, I'm serious." Isaac didn't know how much longer he could handle the assault on his senses. His fingers twitched again.

"So am I." Peter chuckled breathlessly against his cheek and that's when Isaac smelled it. Aberlour 18-year-old scotch. The good stuff Peter only brought out once a year when grief smothered the Hale pack for a family lost. But today wasn't that date; it was nowhere near that date. That scotch represented grief and the hopelessness involved with losing those once loved and yet Peter's breath reeked of it.

Any doubts Isaac had about Peter being in control of the situation washed away like the scotch always did to Peter's nerves. Peter must be shattered. Isaac didn't understand. Scott and Stiles assured him everything was fine in Beacon Hills. Multiple times Isaac expressed the desire to come back but he had been told Peter moved on and coming here would only hurt Isaac, but the scotch didn't lie and now Isaac was nauseous for a different reason.

"Peter," Isaac whispered like he would to a caged beast, "Peter, look at me."

Peter kept his cheek pressed against Isaac's, his fingers digging into his hips painfully. He moved his lips to Isaac's ear, voice rumbling like the motor of his bike. "See you at pack dinner."

He nipped Isaac's throat once more before pushing himself off and storming away to the back office, the wolf stitched on the back of his jacket glaring at him like this was all Isaac's fault. Derek leaned against the wall by the office entrance, arms crossed and eyebrows drawn. His eyes steeped in irritation as they stared down Isaac until finally his shook his head and followed his uncle into the office, slamming the door behind them.

Isaac released his held breath and turned back toward the bar to avoid curious eyes. He jumped slightly, Boyd's quietly strong presence lingering in front of him. Isaac wondered how much he heard. Boyd held a highball filled with an amber liquid and passed it to Isaac without a word. Isaac nodded his thanks and downed it in one gulp, letting it burn away his anxiety until all that remained was the sweet numbness of good liquor.

Pack Dinner. Isaac wanted to laugh but feared he would start to sob instead. It was a demand, not a request. Isaac wanted to disobey and jump on his bike, head back to the comforts of Washington, but the rich smell of floral scotch on Peter's breath made his decision for him. He wouldn't be able to refuse now.

Isaac knew coming back here was a mistake. He should have just sent a card.