Stiles did not want to meet Talia. He was not keen on meeting any Hales the least being the alpha. Just no. So his initial reaction was a big fat nope with some fuck-yous thrown in. But then he glanced over to Peter who was calmly eating his taco. That was the one Hale he liked.
Stiles didn't dare to ask if Talia could tell Peter to not see him again. Did the alpha have that power over the betas? Stiles didn't know and he was not ready for the answer so he didn't ask.
Peter assured him that he didn't have to make a decision now, he could sleep over it, and that they would accept his answer if Talia liked it or not.
The silence over the table became too loud, same for the thoughts circling in his head, he needed distraction.
A stupid horror movie was just the right thing for that and damn was it bad. Stiles dove fully into it, pointing out every plot hole and every stupid thing the teenagers on screen said or did, which were a lot. Peter next to him wasn't much better. He wasn't as vocal but he huffed out a breath here and rolled his eyes there and when those two stupid kids made it out alive in the end, Peter was glaring at the screen as if he wanted to kill them himself.
They were discussing movies long after Stiles had put his laptop away and it was fun. Peter knew most of the movies Stiles mentioned and he made some compelling points about them but eventually, the conversation died down. That was when the thought of meeting Talia crept back into his mind.
It was stupid, Stiles knew that. Talia was not Johnathan and she would not try to hurt him, at least he hoped so. What if this was a trick to lure him in to do whatever with him? Not that they would be able to hold him for long or to actually harm him but it would still suck. And what if Talia didn't like him? If she gave him one look and decided that Peter was too good for him? The what-ifs and maybes started on their little marry-go-round again. Even if they just met up over a coffee Stiles didn't know if he could do that. Not with the alpha of the Hale pack.
He noticed too late how short his breaths were coming out, there was more air going out than coming back in. Stiles felt dizzy, his vision grayed out on the edges and Peter's voice was just a low mumble as if he was underwater again.
"Stiles?" Peter's face came into his view but it was a blurred blob he only identified as Peter because who else could it be. "Hey, it's okay. I'm here, it's okay."
It was not okay but Stiles didn't have the breath to tell him that. Blindly he was searching for something to hold on to and when his fingers wrapped around something, he didn't let go again. Distantly he was aware that it was Peter's arm he was clinging to but he needed something to hold on to or he would just get swept away. He could feel the water on his face, worming its way around the gag into his mouth and he couldn't move. Stiles was sinking like a rock and the water was filling his mouth.
"Stiles."
There was a hand cupping his face and he leaned into it.
When Stiles came to, he was half lying on top of Peter and he was still holding his upper arm in an iron grip.
"You with me again?" Peter asked from somewhere above him, his broad hand stroking up and down Stiles' back. Stiles nodded into his thigh, just taking in one breath after the other. His chest hurt and he got barely enough air into his lungs.
Stiles focused on the next inhale. And the one after that. Eventually, his breaths slowed down to matching Peter's strokes on his back and he could breathe more freely. After long minutes, he was even ready to let go of Peter's arm. His vision was still somewhat blurred but the marks on Peter's arm still stood out.
"That's going to be quite some bruises," Stiles rasped out. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and he wasn't able to work up enough moisture to get the sandy feeling out of his mouth. But he would have to move to get something to drink and at the moment, that was too much of an effort. He let his head drop back into Peter's lap, who was still calmly stroking his back.
"I didn't have a panic attack in years." Stiles rubbed his cheek against the denim of Peter's jeans to get the tingly feeling off of his skin. "This is the second one since I met you."
"I didn't mean to …" Lost at what he didn't mean to do, Peter fell silent. "How do you feel?"
"Chewed on and spit out." Stiles let out a sigh and his lungs only resisted a little bit. Peter's thigh made a nice pillow and he was not ready to move just yet. Exhaustion took over and he relaxed more into Peter. Stiles felt his eyes dropping but he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep any time soon. Talia was still lurking in the back of his mind.
"What do you need?" Peter asked. His hand never stopped moving up and down Stiles back and Stiles got the feeling that he would do it the whole night if he told him that that was what he needed. However, it was not what he needed tonight.
"Fuck my lights out." Stiles hadn't even thought in that direction until the words tumbled out of his mouth but that was exactly what he needed. He didn't want to think tonight. And a good orgasm would wash out the chemicals still flooding his brain.
The hand on his back stilled for a moment before Peter was back to the even strokes.
"I'm not sure if that's a good idea," Peter said. "Maybe you should just try to sleep. You're half-asleep already."
"Won't be able to sleep," Stiles told him, his cheek still pressed into Peter's thigh.
Peter seemed to consider it for a moment over which Stiles almost drifted off to sleep. But only almost. There were the claws of his panic still digging into his brain and the second he let his mind drift, they dug in deeper, dragging him back to where the bad dreams were waiting for him. Stiles blinked himself awake again.
"Okay," Peter said quietly. His hand slipped up to Stiles' neck where he started to massage the base of his skull. Stiles felt the tension melting out of him and when Peter manhandled him to lie on his back, he stretched out with a sigh and waited for what Peter would do next.
For now, he was just sitting there, watching Stiles with worried eyes. He didn't look particularly horny.
"If we want to do this one of us has to start moving and that ain't gonna be me," Stiles told him. Even with the missing blankets, his bed was nice and cozy, he was not going to move ever again.
"How do you want to do this?" Peter asked. His hand was back, now moving along the outside of Stiles' leg and up to his hip.
"That's the right direction." Stiles hummed to the feeling of Peter's hand on his hip. "Can you do slow and gentle? Because I'd like that today. Or are you just all graww?" His voice toppled over the roaring he was trying to achieve here but he got his point across.
"I'm a man of many talents." Peter gave him an amused look. His hand had slipped under Stiles' shirt and his thumb was now stroking his bare skin just above his waistband.
"Words, words, words."
"Oh, I can do so much more than just words." Peter leaned in and brought their lips together in a gentle kiss.
"Show me."
Peter had him panting and all riled up before either of them had even removed one piece of clothing. Peter started slow with kissing and roaming hands but he easily reduced Stiles to a begging mess with his hand under his shirt and his face in Stiles' still denim-clad crotch. Only when Peter had made him come in his pants, he undressed him piece by piece.
Peter admired the view for a moment but then he was back to exploring Stiles' body with his hands and mouth. Stiles arched into the hot mouth torturing his nipple and he was half-hard again by the time Peter started to lap the drying come off Stiles' junk. He sucked Stiles to full hardness again but instead of sucking him off completely, he hooked one of Stiles' legs over his shoulder. Peter had done this before so Stiles thought he knew what was coming next and braced himself for the lube-cold finger but got surprised by the warmth of Peter's tongue.
Stiles keened at that, not able to process what was happening down there. But Peter didn't care about that, he was licking and sucking at his hole, even probing the ring of muscle with the tip of his tongue while he was lazily stroking him. Stiles didn't know if he should push into Peter's hand or mouth, he wanted more of both and at the same time it was too much, the pleasure short-circuiting something in his brain.
"I'm gonna … fuck … Peter … gonna come …" Incoherent words were just falling out of his mouth but then he went rigid and he spilled his release all over Peter's hand while he felt his muscles flutter around where Peter was tongue fucking him.
Spent Stiles collapsed back into the pile of blankets.
"Damn, Peter," he slurred. His whole body was still thrumming with the sensory overload and he might be able to go to sleep now.
However, Peter wasn't done with him. Gently he rolled him onto his stomach and spread his legs.
Stiles wanted to protest, it was too much, he couldn't take more but then there was a finger slowly fucking in and out of him. It felt nice. And as long as Peter didn't touch his junk again, Stiles was fine with this. He pillowed his head on his arms and let Peter do whatever he wanted down there.
Eventually, Peter replaced his fingers with his cock but by then Stiles was loose enough that it slipped in without much resistance.
Stiles fell asleep with Peter slowly fucking in and out of him.
He woke up in Peter's arms.
"Could get used to this." Stiles stretched. His body arched in a good way, Peter had put him through the wringer last night, and he was still pliant and relaxed. Stiles snuggled deeper under the blanket to enjoy this feeling for a little while longer.
"How often did you make me come, anyway?" Stiles wondered. Peter had kept him on the edge for what had felt like hours. To be fair, he'd done the same to Peter when he'd blown him the other day.
"Three times but I think you were asleep for the last one." Peter drew him close until Stiles was the little spoon with Peter's warm body firmly in his back.
Stiles sighed happily, he really could get used to this.
They got up eventually. Stiles a little slower and moving around more stiffly than Peter, though.
Stiles jumped into the lake for a second to wash off the last traces of come and sweat and the lube that was squishing between his cheeks.
He came back inside naked and still dripping wet.
"Don't ever do that," he warned Peter who had used the time to get a fire going in the stove. Stiles stood in front of it for a second to let the warmth seep into his body before he got dressed.
"Do what?"
"Go out into the lake," Stiles told him while he was searching for his clothes. "It doesn't matter that Derek knows you or that I like you, he would drown you. There hasn't been anybody coming here in a long time, he wouldn't be able to pass you up." Stiles had found his socks but now he looked up to look Peter straight in the eye. "It's in his nature. He's not going to go out there, just randomly killing people but the next person going for a swim here? Not a chance."
"I wasn't planning on going on a swim," Peter assured him.
"Good."
Stiles got dressed and then he made breakfast. Just the same stuff he'd made the other day, maybe he should stock up on some things.
After breakfast, Peter left and Stiles promised to think about the thing with Talia.
Stiles waited until he was sure that Peter wasn't coming back for whatever reason, then he stripped out of his clothes and dove into the lake. He sank to the bottom, into Derek's open arms. Here he didn't have to think.
