Stiles moaned into the empty air, body shooting up as he woke again. Sleep wasn't really possible. He was late in the discovery but he'd finally gotten there.
"Alright?" Peter questioned, silhouette well concealed in the darkness.
"I'm fine," Stiles lied. Peter's lips quirked and he crossed to the bed. Stiles scrambled to sit up and Peter sat where his legs had just been.
"I'd prefer it if you didn't lie to me," he murmured.
"Fine," Stiles huffed. "I'm horny as fuck. Better?" Peter's smirk blossomed into a full smile and he leaned closer.
"Much." Stiles' heart shot into his throat and he tried, unsuccessfully, to swallow.
"Y-You're invading my bubble."
"Am I?" Stiles nodded frantically. "And now?" Peter whispered, leaning even closer.
"Um," Stiles literally had to pause, "I'm gonna go with yes." Peter's lips twitched.
"Does it bother you?"
"Is this l-lack of personal space a werewolf thing? Is it always going to be like this?"
"You didn't answer my question," Peter pointed out.
"M-Maybe you should answer mine," Stiles stuttered. He closed his eyes briefly, intensely wishing he could stop stumbling over his words like a fifth grader.
"No and most likely." Stiles squinted and bit his lip, trying to remember what he'd asked. "So does it bother you?"

"Fuck it," Stiles muttered. He leaned forward, reaching out. One hand wrapped around the back of Peter's neck, the other curling in his lap. He couldn't believe Peter was letting him do this. He couldn't believe he was doing this. After Stiles' pause of evaluation Peter closed the final distance between them. For a moment Stiles didn't think anything. He couldn't think anything. Then it was an explosion of pure sensation. Peter was warm and strong. Softer than Stiles would have expected it. For some reason he'd been expecting teeth and pain. But it was almost as if…Peter was being careful with him. He couldn't explain that he needed more. It wasn't worth leaving the kiss anyway. Maybe this was good for now. Peter's hands were on either side of his ribs, pulling him forward. Stiles was in his lap, the other hand falling onto Peter's shoulder to keep himself upright. Peter's hands slid up his back, under his shirt and over his skin. Stiles arched under the touch without a thought. Peter let out a small 'hm' before sliding his mouth away from Stiles' leaning his forehead against his instead.
"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Stiles whined quietly.
"Figured what out?" he breathed. Why were words interrupting them? Peter smiled again but didn't answer, fingertips moving over Stiles' cheek instead. Stiles kissed him again.

…

The window was still open from when Peter had left and he swung back inside just as easily as before. Stiles moaned softly from the bed, arm swinging out as his legs splayed open under the sheets. Peter wondered for a moment what he dreamed of. It wasn't too hard to guess. Did he dare hope…? He shook his head slightly. Saliva pooled under his tongue and he swallowed, willing the lascivious thoughts away. Stiles was asleep. He was not going to do anything to him. But he wanted to. He wanted to forgo all of this waiting. He wanted Stiles to know who he belonged to. Peter inhaled deeply, slowly. He had to be careful now. So careful. You didn't lose as much as he had without learning caution. He had to take things slow. Speaking of, the way Stiles was going…slow was the last thing in his mind.
"Stiles." Stiles jerked up, pupils nearly covering his irises. He glanced around the room quickly, falling out of bed when he spotted Peter. He placed both palms flat on the bed and pulled himself back up. He frowned at Peter.
"Why are you over there? Here! I mean here. Why are you here?"
"Well which is it?" Stiles was a potent mix of embarrassed, surprised, and aroused.
"Why are you here?" Stiles repeated slowly, as if being careful of his words.
"We need to talk." Peter stepped closer to the bed and Stiles pushed himself up before rounding the bed and dropping into his computer chair.
"Okay," he let out, "talk." Peter smiled and retraced Stiles' path before picking a pillow up off the floor. He inhaled briefly before placing it carefully on the bed and leaning against the wall.
"Jackson will be here in a second."

…

Fantastic Stiles thought, just what he needed. He's having sex dreams about Peter, isn't really even bothered by it, and freaking Jackson is on his way over. That's just what he needs really. Why isn't he bothered by it? Shouldn't he be? For one Peter is a man. A man much older than him. Stiles kind of doesn't even want to know how much older Peter is. And he shouldn't even be considering it because he's not gay and even if he was shouldn't he go for like…Scott or Jackson first? Scott was his best friend and Jackson really was pretty. Oh God. This was only getting worse. Stiles' nose wrinkled. He didn't want either of them anyways. Which meant he did want Peter. None of this thought process was working for him.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing," Stiles responded, eyes on the floor.
"Clearly," Peter responded dryly.
"Hey! I don't need you like," Stiles waved a hand in front of his face, "in my head."
"I can't read your mind. You needn't worry."
"I don't have anything to hide," Stiles huffed, cheeks heating.
"Your heart gives you away every time Stiles." Stiles didn't bother responding, knowing his heart was going too fast to give any credence to his lies.
"I'm a teenage boy and I can't help the fact that you haven't been one for like two centuries and sometimes I have thoughts that I'd rather not share with the world okay? Jesus." The words spilled out of his lips so fast Stiles had forgotten what he'd said by the end. Peter, to say the least, looked amused. This only upset Stiles further. He was tired and horny and he didn't want to want Peter like he did… Okay so the jury was still out on that one but he was reasonably sure he didn't want to and overall things were just not going well for him right now. In retrospect he was a teenage werewolf. No one ever said it was going to go well. In fact he was reasonably sure he'd been warned several times it was going to be complicated. He sighed to himself. That hadn't stopped him. He glanced under his eyelashes to Peter, trying to be subtle.

"Yes?" So much for being subtle. Stiles dropped his eyes and sucked in a quick breath.
"Nothing."
"What were you dreaming about?" Stiles eyes shot wide as his neck jerked so he could look at Peter. He was definitely blushing now.
"S-Stuff."
"Anything interesting?" Peter asked, enunciating carefully.
"No." More racing heartbeats. More lies. Stiles snapped his mouth shut and tried to calm down. His heart wasn't the only one speeding along. Peter's was too. Stiles' eyebrows lifted slowly. What was going on here? "Why do you care so much?"
"General curiosity." Stiles smiled, surprising himself.
"Your heart is giving you away." Peter's face took on an disapproving expression.
"One day that mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble."
"Hasn't it already?" Peter didn't answer and there were a few scrapes and scuffles as Jackson scaled the house.
"So what are we going to do?" he asked without preamble, dropping his bag to the floor. Peter turned to him, looking relieved. Or was Stiles imagining it?
"We're going to get you boys some leashes."

A/N: So this chapter is a bit short. I wanted to get it posted for 5ive. You're welcome. ;)

The Peter/Stiles smut…it's going to be slow peeps. People that have been following me know how I do. Anyways. I'll try to throw in some teasing if I can. Don't hate me! The plot would be SO bad if they just did it. You know it would. *squints before nodding to self*

Last thing.. Ship name for Peter/Stiles.. I like Steter personally. Piles is a no. But I think Halinski is good too. Thoughts?

Yes I have to throw something random in.