Stiles was sure the Pack didn't know about him and Peter.
He didn't care whether they knew or not and neither he nor Peter were hiding it in any way, but they weren't as obvious about their 'thing' as most others were with their relationships, either.

Anyway, even if the Pack didn't know about them and even if they hadn't noticed the changes in Peter's behavior before, they would soon, at least if they weren't all so completely narrow-minded like they appeared to be.
One could not simply ignore how often Peter had helped them in the last three months.

He had directed their attention to a deadly fairy that had caused his father quite a headache with all those unsolved murders. The victims had hung impaled on branches in the treetops of the forest. Peter had also given them the necessary information about trolls that the Pack needed to find the one wreaking havoc in their territory.
Just last week he had risked his life while asking around for the witch they had been searching.

What surprised even Stiles, however, was Peter offering to fight on the Pack's side when their opponent was a mob of centaurs. Never before had he volunteered to participate in direct confrontations.
Before they had started dating, Stiles had been wondering whether Peter really was in no shape to fight or just didn't want to take any risks.

Now, that they spent more and more time together, he realized that Peter was indeed weak, considering he should have the strength and healing abilities of a werewolf.
And with that little fact in mind, he wasn't exactly surprised to see Peter in the bathroom, wrapping a new bandage around his chest where he had been hit during the fight yesterday. "Come on, let me help you."

Peter sighed, but allowed Stiles to take the ends of the white material and gently place them over the still visible bruises.
Despite his slow movements, the older man hissed in pain and leaned back against the sink where he had tried to tie a knot in front of the mirror.
His jaw set, Stiles silently finished his task and watched Peter cautiously pulling his shirt back over his head.

He had only planned on checking on the other one before driving to school, but it seemed as if he was needed here for more than just a quick good morning kiss. The man was barely able to stand straight, huffing with every false twist of his upper body.
Frustrated, Stiles grit out, "Why did you do it? Why did you even fight when you knew exactly it would be dangerous? Were you just trying to be nice and make friends?"
Come on, you know me better than that", Peter snorted.

Exasperated, Stiles turned away, ready to leave, but he stopped in the doorway.
Turning back towards the werewolf, he raised an eyebrow, "How did you convince Scott and Derek to let you come with them? I know they always complain that you don't fight, but I doubt they really want you to."

Peter ignored his question and instead attempted to go past him.
Squaring his shoulders, Stiles crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. He knew the older one could still shove him back and walk by, but he didn't think he would risk more pain.

In fact, Peter narrowed his eyes at him, "It is an advantage to care about the same things."
Confused, Stiles blinked, "What?"
"I knew that if it was not me fighting, Scott would ask you. They needed another person and none of us wanted you there, so I was the only option. I may not be at my best, but I can still heal faster than you."

"Oh yeah?", Stiles rolled his eyes, "You ever want your strength back, Peter? Just go fight some centaurs. Way to go!"
He abruptly turned around, but before he could leave, Peter grabbed his wrist and pulled him back, "Maybe you're right, maybe you should have been the one to get hurt, but - what's it called? - at least I made some friends by not letting you go and get hurt."

Stiles grumbled at the quote, but refrained from telling Peter that no one, including Stiles himself, wanted Peter at a fight scene either, albeit he was sure his reasons were a bit different from Scott's.