It's the middle of the night and he's lying in bed, wide awake, staring at the ceiling. His mind is whirring, full of questions, images, thoughts, and he can't concentrate on just one thing no matter how hard he tries.
Shifting slowly, he props himself on his elbows and looks at the person lying next to him. A slow grin spreads over his face and he moves one arm over, pointing out a finger.
All movement stops for a second as he looks on, focusing on his partner's face, his finger lingering about a centimeter above the guy's bare ribs. The moment is still and steady; the only thing he can hear is the soft, even breathing. He's not even sure if the breathing is his own or not but it settles him.
The moment is gone, however, when his hand suddenly unfreezes, continuing on its trajectory and poking his partner straight on the soft skin between the seventh and the eighth rib. The man next to him lets out a soft whine and shuffles away, closer to the edge of the bed, just in time to hear a whispered "Are you awake?" break the calm silence of the night.
The man now turned away from him lets out a grunt and that's all the incentive he needs to turn on the light and sit up fully.
"Ok, what if extra-terrestrial don't come to visit the Earth because they're light years away and fear the dinosaurs they see? We might seriously be missing out on connections there."
The man lets out another whine at his way-too-loudly whispered words and buries his head under the pillow but the whispering continues, now a more a farce than an actual effort to keep quiet.
"And, have you ever heard anyone use the word "ulterior" outside of the phrase "ulterior motives."? I haven't. Don't you think that's weird?"
He leans over his partner's body while pulling the pillow away before he continues, now speaking directly into the man's ear.
"Also, have you ever considered that every time you paint a room, it becomes smaller but every time you paint an object, it becomes larger? That is so not fair. It's like math is screwing us all over."
His partner groans and turns to lie on his back, looking up with a frown. "Is this payback? Do I sound like that?" The frown on his face slowly slides into a pout "You realize I'm trying to sleep, right?"
He sighs and drops on his back next to his partner, making the mattress bounce. In not-at-all-quiet whisper, he adds "I think Derek drugged me."
A moment later, the mattress under them starts shaking so he turns his head, looks at his partner's face and pouts "Stiles, are you…laughing at me?" he drawls and Stiles' laughter cuts through the night, sharp and sparkling, making something happy and light bubble inside of him.
His face, however, contorts into a frown. "I can't believe you're laughing at me. I hate you, I really do." Stiles turns his head and their eyes meet. "Nope" Stiles whispers with a wide grin practically splitting his face in half "You looooooveee meeeee. You soooooo love me."
It makes Peter snort until then they crash together, the moment quickly becoming heated. "Guess we should tire you out the old fashion way." He hears Stiles whisper and he laughs, heartily.