A/N: Here's another one for you lovely people, you! I did bump the rating up to 'M', because I thought I was pushing it a bit. It's mostly just to be safe. If you read, please review.
-Anneryn

Summary: Stiles gets dirty and Peter offers to help him clean up.

I DO NOT OWN TEEN WOLF OR THE CHARACTERS.

Chapter Four:

I grimaced as I tried to fling off some of the mysterious goop that was covering me. Between the exploding monster of the week and the mud I had fallen in, I'm not even sure what is on me. I'm afraid to find out. I don't think that I could handle finding out that pureed tonsils were covering my arms. No, thank you. I swear to God. I'm going to need so much therapy because of all the wolfy issues I get dragged into. So much.

"If no one else needs me, I'm just going to go throw myself into my shower and never come out. I don't think I even remember what my skin looks like, when it's not being covered by… whatever this is. I mean, really. Why is it always me? The human? For once, I'd like to make it through one of these fights without getting drowned in mystery fluids or hurt. Just once! Is that really too much to ask?!" I exclaimed to a nearly empty forest. Of course, why would anyone actually pay attention to me? That would require effort and that's just too much to ask from werewolves. They're above silly things, like effort. I grumbled as I debated, whether or not I actually wanted to drive my jeep home. She's my baby and I don't want to have to clean her, on top of everything.

"Stiles, would you like a ride?" Peter asked me, appearing out of nowhere. I jumped and started to fall. He reached out his hands and steadied me.

"Oh, my God. I seriously think that you like trying to give me heart attacks!" I snapped. I blinked and processed what he said. "Wait, are you serious? You'll really give me a ride, so my baby doesn't have to suffer?" I asked, suddenly giddy. Peter nodded. I frowned. "Do you even have a car? Can zombies even drive?" I asked him, before I could stop myself. He smirked and looked more amused than anything else.

"I have a license and we can take Derek's. Come along. We can be at your place before he notices if you don't dawdle." Peter tutted. I nodded and followed him as he led the way to Derek's current vehicle of choice.

"He's going to kill us." I sighed, as I buckled my seatbelt. Peter didn't look worried, but then again, Peter rarely looked worried.

"Leave him to me. Never you mind, dear Stiles." Peter winked. Wait, what? I shook my head and focused on looking out the window, as Peter sped through town. We made it to my place in record timing and thankfully, without whiplash. I clambered out of the car and winced as I took in the slime covered seat.

"I'm telling him that it was your idea and that you forced me into the car with you." I warned him. Peter chuckled.

"How about I force you into the shower with me, instead? I could help you get clean. You're so dirty." Peter purred. I shivered, involuntarily. I opened and closed my mouth. I didn't know what to say, so I just went inside and walked up to my bathroom. I put a towel on the floor, before I started stripping out of my soiled clothes. "Was that a yes, then?" Peter asked from behind me. I jumped, again. He caught me, again.

"Stop doing that!" I snapped.

"Doing what?" He asked innocently. He turned on the hot water and started to take off his clothes and added them to my pile. "Are you getting in or not?" He asked me, stepping into the shower. I scratched the back of my head and weighed my options. Option A – I shower with a very attractive Peter. Option B – I decline his ridiculously tempting offer and he showers with me, anyway, because it's Peter and he doesn't know what boundaries are. He was raised by wolves. Literally.

"Okay," I agreed, before joining him. He closed the curtain behind me and lathered soap on his hands and helped me tackle the sludge that was coating my body. It didn't take as long as I expected. Soon, I was helping him get clean and then I felt his wandering hands.

"Your baggy clothes really do nothing for you." He muttered. "You've really started to fill out – haven't you Stiles?" He purred. I gulped and forced myself to look at his face and meet his predatory eyes. "Have you been working out?" He asked me, quietly. I nodded, meekly. "It shows." He mused. "You know, you really do have the most tantalizing lips, so kissable. I wonder what they taste like." He breathed, before capturing my lips with his own. I groaned and held onto him for support. He backed me into the corner and groped me, wherever he could reach. "I've wanted to do that since you refused the bite." He groaned. "The things I would do to you, if you were legal."

"You want me?" I asked, trying to comprehend that he's really wanted me for that long.

"That is an understatement. I want to ravish you, mate with you, mark you, kiss you, bruise you, keep you. I want you to be mine, but I can't have you, not yet."

"Wh-why?" I asked, getting distracted by just how good Peter looks wet and naked. He reached behind me and gave my ass a good squeeze.

"You're jail bait." He breathed.

"Can you two stop fondling each other?" Isaac asked from outside the shower. I jumped and would have fallen over, it Peter hadn't been holding me. "Derek is downstairs and pissed that you stole his car."

"'Steal' is such an ugly word. I prefer 'borrow.'" Peter disagreed.

"If you don't stop trying to do Stiles, he's going to come up here and rip your throat out with his teeth. His words, not mine." Isaac told him, before leaving the bathroom. Peter sighed and placed a lingering kiss on my mouth.

"My nephew is such a cock-block."