Since Peter had decided to stay in New York for a while, he could at least make it a profitable stay so he followed up with what he'd set in motion the other day. Which meant that he spent most of the week being nice to people. He had dinner with Deucalion, made polite small talk, and spent way too much money on a deal that would most likely not pay out in the long run. It did open a few doors to him so there was that.

Either way, it had been a busy week. By Saturday Peter felt frayed around the edges and he needed to blow off some steam. The same restless energy had brought him to the Jungle that first time around and it would be the smart thing to do now as well. Go out, have a drink or two, and find somebody to hook up with for the night.

Instead, he got his phone out and sent a message to Stiles, asking if he wanted to come over.

Was wondering if you're ghosting us now, came the prompt answer.

Just had to think about it, Peter answered honestly. He still wasn't convinced that this was a good idea but when Stiles said that Derek was leaving to do his star gazing thing around six and that he could come over then, Peter agreed.

Have you eaten by then? Peter asked.

Derek and I are going to have an early dinner, Stiles replied and Peter could feel the thin ice he was walking on behind the words. Stiles had made it clear that going out for dinner was too deep into dating territory.

I'll get an early dinner then, too. Peter answered and to lighten the mood he added: And then we'll just take a food-indicated nap

I'm not into somnophilia, you better be awake for this

You can blow me awake, Peter wrote. Just thinking about Stiles' mouth on him made his cock twitch. He wanted to see those lips stretched around him, taking him deep.

Stiles answered with a grinning emoji, whatever that meant.

Peter did not want to be full and sleepy for this so he opted for a light dinner and then he was waiting for Stiles to arrive. This was stupid in so many ways and he probably should call it off but then Stiles was at his door.

"Hello, Stranger," Stiles greeted him with that broad grin.

"You're the one who's listed as Stranger in my contacts," Peter said, pushing all the doubts to the back of his mind. He wanted this. By now he needed this.

"No cheese today?" Stiles sounded disappointed.

"You said you ate." Peter followed him deeper into the room. "But I was thinking about a snack later. They offer room service until eleven."

"Sounds good." Stiles turned around. "So, how do you want to do this?"

Peter stepped closer and put a light hand on Stiles' hip.

"Hmm," he made, studying Stiles' face. "I have a few ideas."

"Do you now?" Stiles closed the gap between them. "Kiss me."

Peter brought their lips together, just testing the waters, but when Stiles parted his lips for him, inviting him in, Peter shook off the last doubts and deepened the kiss.

"Somebody's eager," Stiles commented when Peter slipped a hand under the back of his shirt. Not that he was any better, his hands had started to wander as well, one was currently on Peter's butt.

"There was something about blowing me." Peter nipped at Stiles' bottom lip while he blindly tried to move this over to the couch. It did remind him of their first encounter at the club. They had barely made it to the restroom. Like some damn teenagers but Peter couldn't help it. There was something about Stiles …

"Want me on my knees?" Stiles teased between kisses but he did follow him over to the couch. "Want to make it rough? Do you want to fuck my face?"

"Yes." Peter swallowed to moisten his suddenly dry throat. That was exactly what he needed. It was amazing how Stiles not only read him like an open book, he was more than on board with the idea. Not a minute later Peter was sitting on the couch with his pants around his ankles and Stiles kneeling between his spread legs.

At first, Peter let him do his thing, Stiles knew how to work him with his hand and mouth, and that thing he was doing with his tongue … but eventually, Peter's hands found their way into Stiles' hair.

Stiles gave him an encouraging nod and then Peter took over.

He came deep in Stiles' throat, with him choking and struggling but Peter held him in place for a moment longer before he let him come up again.

"When you say rough, you mean rough." Gasping for air Stiles braced his forehead on Peter's knee.

"You okay?" Peter reached out for him, gently cupping his cheek. He'd wanted it rough, yes, but he didn't want to hurt Stiles.

"Just give me a second." Stiles rubbed his cheek into his palm. "In the meantime, you can think about how to return the favor."

"Are we still talking rough?" Peter asked to which Stiles looked up at him with a hungry glint in his eye. Looked as if Peter was not the only one who needed to let off some steam.

Peter took him from behind right there on the couch. Stiles had one knee on the couch, the other foot on the floor, and his folded arms braced on the armrest. Peter didn't waste much time with prep, Stiles wanted to feel it, so he just grabbed him by the hips and buried himself to the hilt in him.

"Damn, you're tight," Peter gritted out and gave himself a moment to adjust to the feeling.

"Stop talking and start moving." Stiles pushed his butt into him. "Show me that you mean it."

Peter didn't have to be told twice, he adjusted his grip on Stiles' hips, and then he gave him the pounding he was asking for. At this angle, Peter must be hitting his sweet spot right on because it didn't take long for Stiles to frantically try to reach his erection bobbing between his legs but Peter batted his hand away.

"I might give you a reach-around when I'm done with you," Peter told him and emphasized the words with hard thrusts. Stiles whined in frustration but he put his arm back on the armrest. He was trembling with need and cursing a blue streak at Peter but he was clinging to the armrest and did not try to touch himself again.

Something about that went right to Peter's groin. He adjusted the angle and picked up speed again and it only took a few more thrusts until he spilled his release deep in Stiles.

He needed a moment to catch his breath but then he did reach around and brought Stiles over the edge as well. Contrary to him Stiles was not wearing a condom so he spilled his release over Peter's fist and some landed on the couch as well. A second later Stiles dropped bonelessly onto the couch, most likely smearing more of his come into the fabric.

Peter made a mental note to clean it up before it dried but at the moment he was way too content with just sitting back and enjoying the afterglow. He had a good view on the globes of Stiles' ass from here.

"Stop staring at my ass and get me a washcloth," Stiles said without lifting his head. "I'm sticking to the couch."

"What makes you think that your ass is something worth staring at?" Peter asked but since Stiles wasn't looking at him anyway he didn't bother with raising his eyebrow. Not worth the energy.

Somehow Stiles managed to call him out on his lie with a twitch of his butt.

They cleaned up and then they moved over to the bed for a nap. It was still early and they figured that they could go for a second round in an hour or so.

Stiles did get his cheese later.

Peter threw on a bathrobe when room service knocked on the door but Stiles stayed in bed, naked. Which answered the question about where Stiles wanted to eat his cheese.

"The maid is going to hate us tomorrow," Peter said but did set up the plate in bed.

"If you can afford to stay here, you can afford to tip well." Stiles shrugged and stuffed a cracker with a piece of cheese on top into his mouth. He had a point there.

They took their time eating, they had the whole night, and when Peter set the plates aside, he found way less crumbs in bed than he had feared.

"C'mere." Stiles patted the mattress. Following the invitation, Peter stretched out next to him, and then they were kissing again. Looked as if they were going for round two now. This time, however, Stiles set a slow pace. They leisurely kissed for a while with Stiles cupping his head while Peter absently ran a hand up and down Stiles' flank.

Eventually, Stiles climbed on top of him, and then he was riding him with slow rolls of his hips. He had his eyes closed, one hand lazily fisting his cock while he pleasured his own nipple with the other one. Lost in his own world he enjoyed himself while Peter lay there, his hands loosely on Stiles' hip, just rolling with his movements, mesmerized by the sight. And damn, was it a sight. Slightly arched back, Stiles pushed out his chest, giving Peter a good view of the nub hardening under Stiles' fingers. He would have loved to put his mouth on the other one but this was not about him. Stiles wasn't even putting up a show for him, it almost seemed as if Stiles had forgotten about him. With the rolls of his hip, his cock peeked out of his fist and retreated again, a lazy back and forth, Stiles was in no hurry to come.

It was hot. Peter hadn't been this turned on in his life. Usually, he was the dominant one but Stiles had just casually reduced him to a simple toy. Peter was nothing but a voyeur, watching while Stiles pleasured himself. Peter had never thought that he could enjoy or even come from something like this but he was the one, spilling his release first.

Stiles didn't falter in his slow movements. As if he didn't even notice Peter coming deep inside him, he kept going until he spilled his release with a sigh long minutes later.

Stiles smiled, more to himself than anything else, but then he seemed to remember that he wasn't alone.

"That was good." He leaned forward and brought their lips together in a tender kiss. Peter's half-hard dick slipped out of him with that move, exposing him to the cold air. The used condom against his thigh go unpleasant rather quickly but he was too content to move. They kissed some more but then Stiles went to get a washcloth and a towel.

"Come back to bed," Peter said when instead of slipping under the covers with him after they had cleaned up Stiles reached for his pants.

"I should leave." Stiles shook his head.

"Derek won't be home yet anyway," Peter reminded him.

"Peter." With his back turned to him, Stiles let out a sigh. "Don't."

"I'm not trying to turn this into something." Peter propped himself up on one elbow. "I know what this is and what it's not." He paused, watching Stiles' reaction. He didn't turn around but he did not proceed with getting dressed either.

"I'm just saying, come to bed and get some sleep," Peter continued. "You can get breakfast for you and Derek on your way home in the morning."

Peter held his breath for what Stiles would do now but to his surprise, he dropped his pants and crawled under the covers. He did, however, had his phone in his hand.

Peter raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"Have to tell Derek that I won't be home before morning," Stiles explained, already typing. "Otherwise he'll send out the cavalry if I'm not home when he gets home."

Right, Derek had mentioned that Stiles kept him updated about his whereabouts on his nights out.

"Okay." Stiles put the phone aside and turned toward Peter. "Now for the important question, are you a big or a little spoon?"