Hey, so it seems my mind is constantly on Stetr island nowadays taking a long vacation, which isn't really good for my education or sufficient amount of sleep (who am I kidding? I've haven't slept more than five hours since high school started), but it's reaaaally good for you, beautiful people, because I'm writing fanfiction like a mad man (woman, whatever).

Anyway, it's good to be back, enjoy this little piece and I hope you'll like it

Jabba the Mutt

"What the actual fuck is this?"

Stiles made an offended face – he gaped at Jackson then closed his mouth eyes narrowing, chin held high. If you asked Peter it was pretty adorable.

"No, really, Stiles," Lydia was standing behind her boyfriend using him as a wall between herself and the thing the other boy was hugging. "What is it? Or what is it supposed to be?"

Stiles huffed in annoyance looking at the little moulting bundle in his arms. His shirt was covered in brown hairs, but it didn't seem to bother him. Peter would roll his eyes, however he didn't want to miss a second of this.

"It's a puppy."

"No, it's not," Isaac interrupted him quickly. "I saw puppies, that," he pointed at Stiles with wrinkled nose, "is no puppy."

Stiles opened his mouth to protest, hugging the poor thing closer, but Scott was already speaking.

"Dude, it looks like something you pulled out from the trash in school kitchen."

Everybody shuddered, Isaac making lovely gagging noises. Peter snored quietly. He came closer to Stiles, the boy oblivious to his silent approach, and carefully took the small bundle from him. Stiles jumped with a yelp almost dropping the puppy, but Peter was already holding it.

He looked at the little guy closely noticing a pair of dark brown eyes and the tip of a pink tongue. Scratching it behind an ear, or at least he assumed it was an ear, he looked up at the others. The pack was gaping at him. Peter did roll his eyes this time.

"What are you doing?" asked Scott suddenly angry Peter was touching something he had considered a piece of garbage only a moment ago. Stiles was looking at him with awe, probably shocked Peter was willingly getting tufts of dirty looking fur stuck to his expensive t-shirt.

"He's hungry and scared," Peter frowned at Scott. "And you're being very rude to him and Stiles."

The pack gaped some more. Even Derek seemed a little bit put out looming in the darkest corner of the room always observing everything and nothing at the same time.

"Why do you care?" Lydia frowned.

"He used to have a dog," Derek spoke up for the first time peeling himself of a wall he was leaning against coming a little closer to the group.

"No way," Jackson laughed. "How long did it last? Two days?"

Peter growled lowly, Jackson flashed his eyes at him, Derek growled warningly and Stiles sighed. He went to stand between the two werewolves giving Jackson the stink eye. Peter smirked to himself and cooed at the yawning puppy. He felt its wet nose pressing to his chest.

"Fuck you, jerk. At least Peter can say the difference between a dog and a cat unlike someone," Stiles sneered at Jackson making the werewolf growl for the second time. Peter didn't like that one bit, so he came closer to the boy again. Stiles made a step back, not shying away from Jackson, but to let his back rest against Peter's arm. To say the werewolf was surprised would be an understatement.

Peter wanted nothing more than to wrap his arm around the boy's waist and pull him even closer. He had to hold his breath for a while, Stiles' scent filling his nostrils like the most pleasant scent imaginable. He was utterly thankful to everything unholy that his pack was a bunch of unobservant idiots. Well, Lydia was looking at him funny, but she always assumed the worst, her hatred sometimes clouding her judgement.

"I'm gonna take Jabba home and you can all think about your harsh words alone in this dump. Jackson can teach you how to look stupid while doing it," said Stiles proudly, grabbed Peter's elbow and dragged the werewolf with the puppy out of the door.

"Great," Scott sighed glaring at Jackson hatefully. "Thanks a lot."

"Hey!" Lydia stepped in front of her boyfriend who was barring his teeth at Scott. "You said the dog looked like a piece of crap."

Derek rubbed his forehead tiredly as his pack started to argue, their voices rising with every sentence. He wondered what was happening between Stiles and his uncle, but on second thought, he actually didn't want to know. Gross, so completely gross.

Stiles was frowning at the road mumbling under his breath still upset by his pack mates' behaviour. They were all stupid. Jabba maybe looked like something a cat had spitted out, but he was sure he'd turn out to be an amazing dog. His jeep was purring softly in agreement – he was sure of it.

"Did you even ask your father if you could keep a dog?"

The car wheels squealed as Stiles jumped up in his seat making the jeep go askew on the dark road. Thank fuck nobody was driving in the opposite direction.

"Shit! I forgot you were here," Stiles let out a breath trying to calm himself.

Peter gave him an unimpressed look. "You brought me with you. I dare say you dragged me out of the apartment, almost kidnapped me, really."

"Very funny," Stiles made a face at him, quickly looking back at the road. "Did you really have a dog?"

"I did," Peter smiled to himself knowing Stiles couldn't see him in the dark.

"What was its name?"

"Ruby."

"You had a female dog?" Stiles sounded surprised.

"Yes, I was twelve. She died when I turned sixteen," he made a pause. "She was sick."

Stiles made a soft oh sound and stayed quiet. It was strange – the boy always talked. Peter looked out the window scratching Jabba's back. The puppy made a satisfied noise and cuddled closer.

"He likes you."

Peter looked up and saw Stiles smiling. Maybe for the first time they've known each other Peter could say Stiles looked calm and content. He'd never seen him like this. It suited him and made him even more attractive. Peter considered jumping out of the car.

"What's not to like?" he smirked watching the boy closely for a reaction. Stiles laughed, looked at him and laughed some more. It wasn't mocking, just a happy sound emerging from his lips. Peter caught himself smiling softly and had to bit his tongue not to groan. Stiles had a strange effect on him, which could become dangerous very easily. Surprisingly, he didn't feel vulnerable, rather happy actually.

Stiles parked in front of his house, turned off the engine and looked at Peter. The werewolf wanted to say something smart, but Stiles leaned closer, took Jabba from his hands, their fingers brushing, and stayed as he was. Peter didn't dare to breath.

"Thank you," Stiles gave him a bright smile. "You know, for backing me up back there and defending this poor guy. It was very nice of you," he said, but still didn't move away.

"Stiles?"

"Yes?" the boy grinned cheekily.

"You realize if I let this happen, I won't be able to stop, right? I won't want to stop."

"Please," Stiles rolled his eyes and licked his lips. "As if you had a choice in the first place," he chuckled and leaned even closer, but still not touching. Peter hesitated. "My dad's working a double tonight."

He slammed his lips against Stiles' so quickly the boy didn't have a chance to squeak. There wasn't much hesitation before Stiles grabbed Peter's face and brought it closer, eagerly kissing back. Jabba yipped angrily as he was squeezed between the two bodies. Sadly, in that moment, nobody paid him attention.

Well, what do you think? Have I done some horrible terrible grammar mistake? Let me know ;)