The quiet was driving Stiles crazy. It wasn't actually quiet of course. He could hear nearly everything in the room and even a few things in the hall as well. The leash couldn't prevent that. The quiet between him and Scott was driving him crazy. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It had never been like this. Stiles felt like people were staring at them. And he was being quiet. He was upset, he couldn't help it. So then he felt like people were staring at him. Even Mr. Harris had commented.
"Someone kill your goldfish Stilinski?" He hadn't even managed a snappy comeback. Yeah. That's how fucked he was. It just wasn't a good day. Jackson was nowhere to be seen and if he hadn't seen him with Danny earlier Stiles would have been on red alert. Stiles hoped Danny was helping him. Somehow. He ate lunch alone, nearly pathetic enough to eat in the bathroom. By the end of the day, at least there was no practice, thank Jesus, Stiles was ready to lose his mind. He lurked by the exit closest to the bike racks, waiting for Scott. His jeep was parked crookedly a few feet away and his heart was going crazy in his chest. Part of him couldn't believe he was about to do this. But it had been a while since he'd come up with a crazy plan. This one had enough crazy to make up for it. Logistically he knew Scott was stronger than him. He was hoping, praying really, that Scott wouldn't actually want to fight him. In any case, Scott wouldn't kill him and Stiles was more than prepared to get his ass kicked. He had to try. Scott finally appeared and Stiles grabbed hold of his hood, yanking him gracelessly towards his jeep.
"What the-"
"Just shut up and get in the jeep," Stiles snapped, a bit of growl to the words. Scott jerked away, leaving his hood in Stiles' hand. Scott whirled on him as Stiles contemplated the hood, wondering how he hadn't seen that coming. He wondered if Scott would have parted with a handful of hair.
"Why?" Scott demanded. Stiles sighed and kicked at the grass before offering Scott his hood back.
"Because you're my best friend. And you always will be." Scott was slow in accepting the fragment of cloth, watching Stiles carefully.
"If Derek finds out…"
"Well then don't tell him."

The plan absolutely failed. Maybe a bit stronger than absolutely failed. Stiles didn't care. In the end Scott was riding in his jeep again, heading for Stiles' house. That's what he focused on. Plus Peter would most likely be watching for him to come home so if Scott did in fact try to kill him Peter would be there in enough time to save him. Stiles hadn't actually realized that until they were halfway to his house but that didn't matter. Scott was uncomfortable. It was evident in his racing heart and the way his eyes kept flicking to Stiles. Like he couldn't help it. "Will you chill out? I just want to talk." Scott made a noncommittal noise, looking out the window. Stiles sighed to himself. Scott didn't relax, not even when they were in Stiles' room. Stiles wondered if it was Jackson's scent that was upsetting Scott. "Pinky spit swear," Stiles announced, turning towards him. Scott shot him an incredulous look.
"You have to be kidding."
"Not even close," Stiles corrected, spitting on his palm and offering it. They hadn't done it in about four years but it was the only thing Stiles could think to do. Rolling his eyes and blushing slightly Scott spit into his hand and took Stiles'. Stiles crossed his other arm over their hands, pinky out. Scott sighed before linking his pinky. "What I'm about to say doesn't leave this room. Ever."
"Yeah. Of course," Scott said dismissively.
"Peter is my mate." Scott blinked slowly. Then he laughed.
"Okay, yeah Stiles," he said between chuckles, "good one." Stiles huffed and dropped Scott's hands, propping his on his hips. "God it's been so long since I've heard you crack a joke I've forgotten how funny you can be," Scott managed, laughter slowly getting more hysterical. He hunched over, hands on his knees.
"I'm serious," Stiles insisted.

Scott laughed even harder.
"Yeah! Right! You're gay for a man possibly older than your father. Oh God. Stiles…you're too much."
"Scott," he snapped, quickly losing his patience. "Pay attention. Allison to you is Peter to me." Scott's laughter cut off suddenly and he straightened slowly, expression carefully blank.
"What?"
"We're mates. Meant to be…fated…etc. That's why I couldn't watch him die. Get it?" Scott turned and sat down on Stiles' bed.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes I'm serious," Stiles let out, exasperated. "I'm not supposed to be telling you this at all so the least you could do is freaking believe me."
"Why aren't you supposed to be telling me this?" Scott asked, face screwing tight in confusion.
"Because," Stiles said, sitting on the bed next to him, "you went dark side on me."
"Me? You went dark side on me Stiles!"
"It wasn't like I planned it! I just couldn't…I couldn't let him die." He sighed and ran both hands over his head rapidly. "I don't regret it but I am sorry I hurt you." Scott was quiet for a long moment.
"If it was Allison…I would have done the same thing." Stiles breathed a sigh of relief.
"So am I forgiven?" Scott shot him a tiny smile.
"Maybe."

The atmosphere slowly relaxed and Stiles was glad he'd done it. The risk had paid off.
"You can't tell Derek. You can't tell anyone." Scott nodded slowly.
"Alright. So what do we do now?"
"My plan stopped at getting you to talk to me again."
"Well killing Peter is out," Scott said, Stiles growled slightly.
"Obviously."
"And I can't join your pack. It wouldn't look good to Allison's family," he explained softly.
"Yeah I guess not," Stiles murmured.
"I guess I'll just…tell Derek I don't want anything to do with this."
"Hm," Stiles let out. He didn't think Derek would take that news too well. It was what they had wanted but he was still worried about what Derek was going to do. "When did our lives become such a mess?"
"Right around the time Peter bit me." Stiles felt himself blush.
"I'm sure he's sorry about that."
"So he's not crazy evil anymore?"
"Of course not!" Scott chuckled and Stiles huffed again.
"Oh come on Stiles…if I fell in love with him you'd be all over me."
"First of all he's mine. Secondly I couldn't help it." Scott laughed again.
"I missed you man."
"I missed you too."

Scott left shortly after and everything wasn't perfect between them but it was certainly better. Stiles felt pretty good. Derek was still a problem but it was one that Stiles wasn't going to think about. He didn't turn when he heard Peter enter his room, sighing softly.
"Are you angry with me?" Peter wrapped his arms around Stiles, planting a kiss at the base of his neck.
"No," he whispered. "It's selfish and foolish but I'm happy. Ridiculously so. More than I deserve."
"Happy?" Stiles questioned.
"You told your best friend that I'm your mate. Even though you weren't supposed to." Stiles laid his hands over Peter's. He thought he heard a smile in Peter's voice but he was too chicken to turn and see.
"And you're okay with that?"
"I'm incredibly okay with it." Stiles relaxed into him, incredibly relieved.
"I really did miss him," he admitted.
"I never wanted you to suffer because of me. I did things I shouldn't have and I know I've hurt you. I'm sorry for that Stiles."
"I don't think I could be mad at you if I tried." Peter made a rumbling noise. It was a happy noise and Stiles smiled.
"You may be angry with me after I tell you what I've done," Peter murmured, drawing away. He paced to the window and looked out. Stiles watched him, a sense of unease spreading quickly.
"Why?" he asked, trying not to sound nervous. "What have you done?"
"I have a conversation with Chris Argent."

He said the sentence simply, as if it didn't have a monumental impact.
"What?" Stiles croaked. "Why? Uh…why would you do that?"
"Relax Stiles," Peter returned, turning and leaning on the windowsill behind him. "We didn't declare an eternal war or draw any lines in the sand. No blood feuds were formed. I simply wanted to know if he was going to make a move."
"And is he?" True to Peter's word Stiles was getting upset. He couldn't help it.
"No. He lives by his code. When I killed Kate I was only hunting what had hunted me. The knife cuts both ways. Derek is now hunting me because I hunted him. Or at least…it's close enough for Chris. Not that I thought he'd actually be of any assistance," he added as an afterthought.
"So he's not going to try anything? Nothing at all?"
"Look at it from his point of view Stiles. Werewolves fighting with each other. He wins either way. Of course he could just be waiting until the victor is weakened enough for him to attack," Peter paused briefly, "but he strikes me as the honorable type." Stiles snorted rudely.
"Yeah have him pin you against a wall and then we'll see how honorable he is." Peter smirked, actually smirked.
"Did he mortally wound you?"
"No," Stiles huffed, crossing his arms. He thought he'd done rather well in that fight. If he did say so himself.
"Ah, just your pride then." Stiles' jaw dropped.
"Are you taking his side?" he demanded. Peter just chuckled. Stiles let out a quiet, somewhat wounded noise, cheeks flushing in indignation. Peter pushed off the windowsill, not that Stiles was watching him.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly, taking hold of Stiles' jaw when he tried to look away. "I have no talent for humor."
"That was you being funny?"
"It was slightly humorous." Stiles pouted.
"Not to me."
"Hm," Peter let out thoughtfully, fingertips stroking along Stiles' jaw. "I am sorry Stiles. It's only that you've had to take everything so seriously lately. I only wanted to see you smile."
"You're not funny."
"I'm being serious," Peter insisted, eyebrows moving up.
"Really?" Peter simply nodded, a devastating smile toying with his lips. "Oh." Peter watched him intently, as if Stiles was about to tell him something he'd never dreamt of telling another soul. Stiles smiled, just a bit. Peter was just being really…sweet. How was it possible? How could this man be sweet and charming and wonderful? "You should find some other ways to make me smile," Stiles murmured, looping his arms around Peter's neck, "cause you are definitely not funny."
"I accept your challenge," Peter breathed, lips feathering over his again.

A/N: So tomorrow is my final day of summer. And I just read a really sad fic. And just yeah. Feeling a bit sad. So some fluffy Peter was called for. Hope you don't mind. Should be chipping away at Derek/Jackson next chapter…