Background: Derek asks Stiles to house-sit for him (stay in his loft), while he is out of town. Peter drops by unexpectedly and decides to take advantage of Stiles and the empty loft.

I DO NOT OWN TEEN WOLF OR THE CHARACTERS.

Chapter Eleven:

I jerked awake, when I heard the door open. That can't be right… Derek said that he would be gone all week – didn't he? Could someone be breaking in? Why does this always happen to me? I'll never be able to live it down, if I let Derek's loft get robbed. Shit. Fuck. My. Life.

I looked around and grabbed the closest thing that could possibly double as a weapon – a hammer that had been left lying on the coffee table. I gripped it tightly and tried to build up the courage to turn around and attempt to scare someone off with it. Hammers are threatening… Right?

"Oh, Stiles," a voice wafted into my ears and I jumped and felt the beginnings of a heart attack stir in my chest. I whirled around to see a smug looking Peter.

"Don't do that!" I yelped. "Damn." I cursed underneath my breath. He just smirked at me.

"I didn't expect to find you here. What a delightful surprise." Peter said smoothly, completely unfazed by my outburst. I scowled at him. Is this what Derek has to deal with? I can only imagine how growing up with Peter must have been for him. If I didn't feel sorry for the Sourwolf, I definitely do now.

"A little warning would have been nice, if you were gonna stop by. What is it with you werewolves and trying to give me a heart attack?! Are your lives really that boring and you stoop to trying to scare me half to death to get your kicks?! Let me tell ya – it's not fun and I don't enjoy it. Didn't anyone ever teach you manners?! It's kind of important, but I guess you were raised by wolves. Seriously, though, would it kill you to knock? Or to call? Or even to shoot me a quick text message? I mean, hell, you could have just announced your presence. Is it really so hard? No. It's really not. God. So fucking rude. No one gives a second thought about Stiles or his feelings." I lamented.

"Stiles, I had no idea you've given me so much thought." Peter purred. I gaped at him.

"I – Wait. What?"

"I would love to give you a call, as you suggested, but as luck would have it, I've never had the pleasure of receiving your number." Peter spoke to me, like how he would speak to an upset customer at a restaurant that he was trying to schmooze. Well, it's not gonna work, buddy. Okay, well, with eyes like his. It might work… just a little. He winked at me and I gaped at him, flabbergasted. So I really did hear him right. …Right? Did Peter Hale really just hit on me? I have got to be losing my mind. There's no way in hell that Peter would ever flirt with me. "Perhaps we can rectify that, so I can call ahead next time." Peter breathed, as he stepped closer to me. "How does that sound, sweetheart?" He cooed.

"I – I— Yeah. Okay. I guess that sounds okay…" I admitted. I handed him my phone, reluctantly. He smirked and started to fiddle with it. After a few moments, his phone started to ring. He silenced it with a smirk.

"Now, I have your number, Stiles. What do you suggest we do now?" He asked me. I shrugged, suddenly very aware of how alone we were. "Well… I can think of a few things… especially since we have the place all to ourselves." Peter hinted in a seductive whisper.

Before I could ask him what he meant by it, Peter's hands were on my hips. My mouth fell open and Peter started leaving a trail of small kisses on my jawline. I couldn't ignore the way his advances were affecting me. How is anyone this good with his mouth?

"Peter… Wh-what are you doing?" I rasped.

"I thought that was obvious, sweetheart. I'm wooing you." He breathed, as he rolled his hips against mine.

"'Wooing' me? What are you, fifty?" I exclaimed. Clearly getting felt up by a sexy ass werewolf didn't affect my ability to put my foot in my mouth and say the obvious. The loft door opened and I jumped away from Peter. We both turned to see a very confused Chris Argent staring at us.

"Uh, yeah, Derek asked me to check on the place… and you." Chris explained, quickly.

"Well… I should go… and check on my dad or something." I excused myself, trying to leave as fast as humanly possible.

"I'll come find you later and we can finish our conversation, sweetheart." Peter called from behind me. Well, if Chris didn't know that something was going on before, he definitely does now. Jesus. What have I gotten myself into?