It was just another day, when it happened. Really, there was nothing special about this Sunday, no anniversary, not even a holiday.
The only unusual thing at this day was that they had it just for themselves. There were no creatures lurking around, no danger awaiting and the best: Stiles didn't even have homework to do.
He had spend the day doing some research for fun, with Peter telling him stories or helping him discern fact and fiction, before he had gone home and cooked his father something healthy to eat after work.
Just in case, Stiles had also left the Sheriff a note, saying he might only be back by the next morning, telling him, he was having a sleepover at a friend's house.
Stiles was pretty sure, his father knew that wasn't the truth, or at least not the whole truth, but until now he hadn't questioned him.
For a moment he wondered whether Melissa and his Dad were having meetings, discussing the antics of their teenage boys because of all the secrets he and Scott were harboring lately, still trying to keep their parents out of their supernatural problems.
And out of their relationships, but that was for a totally different reason.
Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles watched Peter read his just recently bought crime novel, already at one of the last chapters. He chuckled slightly at how focused the older one appeared, lost in solving the case.
He could almost imagine his partner sticking out his tongue in concentration or biting his lip in anticipation. But no matter how distracted Peter seemed, he didn't ever stop running his hands through Stiles' hair.
He felt like a cat, ready to purr at any moment or sink into the softness of the fluffy carpet he sat on in front of the couch. But then he'd lose the warm contact of the other man's hand. A little lost in thought, Stiles idly zapped around, looking for something to concentrate on so as to not fall asleep. He wanted to indulge in the comforting feeling of Peter's touch a little longer.
He heard the rustle of paper, when the older one turned another page, but didn't think anything of it, not until Peter shifted and pulled back his hand.
"I've never told you that I love you, have I?"
Stiles slowly tilted his head and stared up at Peter, blinking, "Um, no. But you don't have to, it's fine with-"
"I love you."
"Oh", he bit his lip, thinking for a second, "Do you want some kind of answer to that one? 'Cause, you know, this was kinda unexpected and I forgot the great speech I've written and prepared in front of my mirror at home."
Peter simply raised an eyebrow, his fingers gently pushing some untamed strands out of Stiles' eyes.
"Eh, thank you, I guess. I mean, I knew or, at least, I assumed as much. Well, 'hoped' is probably the better word here." He began fiddling with the hem of his shirt, "I love you, too. If that's what you're waiting for."
He could see that Peter tried to keep a straight face, but the serious aura was destroyed by the twinkling of his eyes. When the corner of his mouth twitched, Stiles had to laugh, "Stop staring."
The older one chuckled softly and leaned down, nuzzling Stiles' neck, hot breath ghosting over pale skin, "Okay."
He grumbled and sat up straighter, attempting to catch Peter's lips, but the other man pulled back, teasing him with only a little peck, and smirked.
Stiles narrowed his eyes and dragged his partner back down, this time meeting his lips. He tugged at the hair at the back of Peter's head, drawing him closer.
When the older one pulled him onto the couch, Stiles instantly snuggled up to him and rested his forehead against Peter's shoulder.
The werewolf began tracing a hand down his back, the other one cupping his face, fingers brushing over his cheek, and whispered into his ear, "God, I love you. I love you so much."
Stiles grinned, "Are you trying to make up for half a year without any declarations of your love or are planning on seducing me here?"
"Hmm, I'm not sure yet", Peter hummed, placing a short kiss on the tip of his nose, "Probably, a little bit of both, if you don't mind."
"Yeah, no. Actually, I'd like that."
"Good."
