Deaton lifted an otoscope to Peter's eye, the bright, blinding light bringing out the tints of purple hiding in his irises. Peter tried to ignore the light as he rested his weight against the examination table, leaning casually. Derek sat near, watching with curiosity as Deaton switched to the other eye.
"And you say you had less problems with your feral state this time you met with him?"
"Yeah." Peter huffed, "I slipped a little when I was within inches of him, but it was just for a few seconds."
"Mmhm." Deaton replied, finally retracting the intrusive light.
Derek lowered his brow, "That's a good thing right?"
"Well..." Deaton began, "Yes. I believe that having spent more time with him you've been able to appease your wolf a little."
Deaton set the otoscope down on the counter, returning now with a small packet that he tore open as he turned. "I'm just going to see if there's much residue left on your skin. Maybe because you didn't ingest it it's affects won't last as long. They might even be gone already. I'm optimistic. It's unusual that you would have had no reaction."
"Like I said, it wasn't that there was no reaction... just... less than it was before. I was in control of my body."
Deaton nodded as he pulled a small cloth from the torn packaging and swiped it across Peter's arm, "Well, I'm still optimistic."
"Should he keep seeing the sheriff?" Derek asked, arms crossed where he sat, as usual. The boy really didn't know how to relax.
"Oh of course." Deaton smiled, wiping a patch of skin with a tiny cloth and storing it away, "In fact, I'd say see him more if you can. No telling if this is the effects wearing off or a result of your close proximity. Either way, can't hurt. It can only help."
Derek hummed and Peter gave a bright nod. As if he had any issues with seeing John more. He'd still need to be good about keeping his wolf on a leash, but just the thought of spending more time with the man made him feel lighter. That happy feeling of humming old songs in the kitchen returning to him like a hit of the best drug imaginable. Peter felt like he could float away. "I'll be a good patient doc, in fact!" He jeered, straightening up from his slouched position, "I think I'm gonna go take a little of my prescription right now! Man could probably use a good coffee."
"Careful with the scenting in public." Deaton warned, but his tone was teasing and his smile was warm.
Peter saluted the pair of them from the doorway with a wide grin, "Will do Doc."
There were many more pleasant dates after the first breakfast in the loft. Peter had made good on his promise to deliver a coffee. It was a adorable watching the sheriff blush with surprise when he'd arrived, graciously accept his five dollar coffee and discard the substandard office brew. After that, he'd taken John out to dinner at a decent restaurant, to a movie John had been keen on seeing, and there was a night in with a bottle of scotch, some old records playing in the background and good conversation. Sometimes it was as simple as joining him and Stiles for dinner. They were simple men, their 'dates' weren't really extravagant, and that was perfect.
They were properly dating now. Real, proper boyfriends and... John felt happy about it. It was weird at first, admittedly; realizing that he and Peter were, in fact, considered boyfriends. That was such a young man's word. He felt too old to be smiling to himself over having a "boyfriend". If he wasn't careful he might find himself up at late hours in his nightgown on the phone, twirling either his hair or the phone extension and kicking up his feet for Peter Hale. His boyfriend. Peter Hale, his boyfriend. What a juvenile concept to try and grasp. But... if John was being honest, he liked it.
John started to really enjoy having someone he could talk to about his day. After exchanging numbers, Peter had started sending him texts or sometimes calling him after work. Only, of course, if he hadn't already decided to come visit. On more than one occasion Peter had shown up with some good alcohol and a pizza, ignoring Stiles' grumbling over the carbs and lack of any toppings other than meat. The last time Peter had dropped by, he'd plonked himself down on the couch and let John rest his head in his lap as he ranted about the stress of his work.
There were times when their meetings were more heated, but Peter had been better about warning John beforehand when something was off. Whether his wolf was more rambunctious than usual or John happened to smell particularly good, he'd let him know. Of course, John had stopped minding when Peter got so close. He'd become comfortable with the proximity of Peter slinking up behind him and snaking an arm around his waist, nose buried in his neck and he'd learned to love the feeling of Peter's stubble scraping against his skin as he nuzzled him.
However, as he grew more comfortable, John could tell that Peter grew more restless. John's shirt would snag on his jacket as he removed it to reveal the slightest hint of his belly and he could catch the way Peter tried to pretend he wasn't looking. He saw the dissatisfied frown Peter dawned when John was fresh from a shower, scent no doubt dulled by the strong smell of his shampoo. Or John would snuggle with Peter... Chest to chest or chest to back, and sometimes catch Peter's eyes, glazed over as they stared at him. Peter's face often exuded a hunger that both scared and excited John to no end. It was a look he hadn't seen since his drunken college party days. That lustful, crazy gaze in the eyes that begged for touch,to touch, anything. He recognized it as the desire that it was, but still had absolutely no idea how to respond.
The last time they had been alone together it was after a dinner with the boys. Derek and Stiles had gone to meet with the pack, leaving the two men to sit quietly on the couch and digest. John flipped through channels for a bit before settling on the news, watching half heartedly as he allowed himself to curl back into the crook of Peter's arm, now resting over the back of the couch. He felt so content when nesting in Peter's arms. It was a new sensation, to be the one held instead of being the holder, but John would admit that he liked it.
After a long day of being in charge of everyone at work, holding up all the other deputies, it was nice to come home and unwind. He let himself be cared for and honestly, it had been improving his overall mood, even at work. He loved this change of pace. He loved being around Peter, and he was starting to wonder if by this point he was allowed to say that he loved Peter too.
Peter tilted his head towards John's with a smile, burying his nose in the sandy strands of his hair and taking a calming breath.
It was, admittedly, becoming harder to handle himself around John than it had been before. Deaton's theory must have been wrong. There was no way the effects had worn off. He could feel the pull whenever he touched John, the intense longing that caused his chest to pain. He wanted to mate John. He wanted to call him his own, stake a claim and make sure that the whole world knew he was Peter's.
Boldly, Peter shifted his face downward, nose tickling the nape of John's neck as he nuzzled. He fought the pleased rumble in his throat, trying to be sly as he slipped his free hand from his lap onto John's knee. John's scent thickened in the most delicious of ways as he did.
"You smell great." he purred, wishing he could nuzzle even further into John.
The Sheriff chuckled, "Thanks. Is it gonna be a problem?" he asked, genuine in his concern as always, "Should I sit on the other side of the couch?"
The rumble did leave Peter then, but in distress rather than pleasure, "Nooo, " he groaned, voice nearly in a tired slur, "stay here."
Peter relished the pleasant laugh John gave, the small tweaks of happiness in his scent adding fuel to the fire. He smelled amazing when he laughed, so happy and carefree. It made the brown of the whiskey more sharp, the baked goods sweeter, and the smoky musk centered. It enhanced his (already enchanting) scent and Peter felt weak against him. He was getting drunk on it, relaxing his body and resting his weight on John as he swept his arm from the back of the couch around John, cradling him with a firm hand on his chest. He nuzzled further against John and let the hand on John's knee slide up a few inches.
"Peter, you're... you're purring." John gasped, losing his breath then Peter moved his mouth from the nape of John's neck to the crook, perfectly slotted where he could bite.
"Can I?" Peter begged, sliding his hand up John's leg ever further, one finger barely touching John's groin.
John's breathing was getting heavier, "Can you what?"
"I want to touch you."
"You're already-"
"I want to bite you."
"T-That's..."
"I want to fuck you."
John choked, "Sweet Jesus! Peter!"
The sharp teeth of a longing wolf danced around the skin of John's neck, not biting, content just to tease. A pleasant purr of satisfaction slipped form Peter's mouth when John gasped and brought a hand up to Peter's chest. "If you bite me I'll-"
"I won't bite with these teeth." he promised, retracting his fangs and proving his honestly by dragging human teeth along the same spot, "Won't turn you."
"Why do you need to bite me?" John asked, arching his neck anyway and giving Peter more room to roam.
"Claim you..." Peter hummed, rubbing his nose against John.
John would admit he had started to find comfort in Peter's nuzzles. He enjoyed the feeling of being so wanted, almost needed. The warmth of another face pressed beside his own and the cozy rumble he could feel in Peter's chest whenever he got to hold the sheriff.
"But..." John exhaled, turning into mush when the hand Peter had patiently left on his thigh finally began to touch him, "But I'm already yours?"
Peter's head lifted then, surprise evident in his eyes as he stared at John. "What?"
"I already agreed to the whole... mates thing." he continued, bringing a hand up to crandle the back of Peter's neck, "I know what I agreed to."
"We... mate for life you know. I'll never want anyone else." John's hand drifted to his cheek and Peter happily rubbed his face against it, "Even if you get sick of me and decide to leave."
"I wouldn't just up and leave-"
"I know you wouldn't." He smiled.
With great care, Peter moved forward, pressing his forehead against John's in a gesture that promised love and honesty, "That's one of the things I love about you."
John chuckled, both arms wrapping around Peter's neck as he pulled him in for a hug, "Thank you." He encouraged Peter to rest his weight against him, leaving them chest to chest, "I'll probably never understand why you fell for an old guy like me."
Peter pulled back, grinning ear to ear, "Let me show you."
