Somehow Stiles thought that it wasn't so much of a challenge as it was a game already won. His occupied lips were already trembling, trying to smile as the kiss went on. It didn't work of course but Stiles was okay with that. Smiling because of Peter wasn't as important as Peter.
"What if I tell you about things that make me smile?" Peter questioned, drawing his lips away. Stiles sighed softly and curled his hands, trying to keep them at his sides. He needed to calm down. It wasn't like this could go anywhere. Stupid freaking Derek.
"Okay," he agreed breathlessly.
"Aside from the obvious," Peter said, hands smoothing down Stiles' neck and resting on his shoulders, "I like your neck Stiles."
"M-My neck?" Stiles questioned, feeling himself flush. Peter smiled.
"Yes. I love it when your pulse is pounding so hard I can practically smell it. I love how perfectly pale and bitable it is." His fingers arched up, spanning over the skin. "I can't wait to mark you up. When we mate the mark will always be there…even after it heals. God Stiles I can't wait to bite your neck and claim you." A single fingertip drifted down his Adam's apple. Stiles couldn't help a slight moan. "I fantasize about it constantly." Just when Stiles thought he couldn't say anything more shocking.
"You do?" the words barely even left his lips.
"I debate," Peter continued smoothly. "Which way would be the best, soft and slow…fast and rough. If you knew it was coming or maybe even if you didn't. Perhaps if you'd been running from me and I caught you from behind. On the full moon." He inhaled deeply before sighing. "Most of them are utterly unrealistic," he conceded, eyes crinkling slightly. "I wouldn't risk hurting you." Stiles couldn't form words at that point and merely nodded, tongue moving over his parched lips.

The last remaining air in his lungs whooshed out as Peter stepped closer and kissed Stiles' neck. He trailed his lips over Stiles' throat slowly, seemingly attending to every centimeter of skin. Stiles' head fell back against his will and he moaned again. Peter hummed against his skin, tongue sliding out again. He licked over the swells of vein and bone, sucking at the dips of skin with equal attentiveness. He scoured his teeth over the skin next, back and forth, diagonal and up. His hands slid over Stiles' shoulders, tugging at the collar of his shirt before sliding under. Peter's fingers curled before raking over his collar bones. Stiles shivered and pressed closer to him. He wasn't sure why Peter was obsessed with his neck, but it was shooting him straight into the stratosphere. He nearly wanted to warn Peter that it was going too far but he was desperate for it not to end. His hands fell down limply and after another moment he forced them up, skating up Peter's back. He scratched lightly back down, releasing a slight growl. Peter growled back at him and moved his hands down to Stiles' ass, cupping it with both hands and dragging him forward. There wasn't anywhere for Stiles to go and he ended up curling into Peter's body, nearly every inch of them touching. Peter groaned, lips pulling off Stiles' skin but still hovering near enough for Stiles to feel each puff of breath. Stiles gripped at Peter's shirt helplessly. It was all he could do to stay upright. Maybe he didn't want to be upright anyways. Maybe he just needed…
"Bed," he whispered.

Peter didn't move for a moment and Stiles froze as a thick shot of fear sliced through him. "I-I mean…" There wasn't really any backtracking from that. Why was he afraid now? He shouldn't be. They'd already…done things. Stiles blushed. Was he in ninth grade now? "Will you please just," he took an achingly deep breath, "come to bed with me?" He didn't know what he would do if Peter said no. Maybe lose his mind. Peter lifted him and started walking backwards. Stiles stopped worrying. His hands wound their way into Peter's hair and he tilted his head back for a kiss. Everything was beyond what Stiles had expected and nothing had really even happened yet. Peter turned at the last moment and laid him down gently, lips moving to his neck again. Peter pressed one more hot kiss to his skin before straightening and stripping his shirt off. Stiles simply watched, hypnotized. Not that Peter didn't look good in a button up but the way he peeled that t-shirt off… Stiles barely contained a shiver. Peter lifted one of his ankles, pulling off his shoe before removing the sock as well. The second foot proved to be no trouble at all and Stiles swallowed as Peter tossed the sock over his shoulder before crawling into bed with him. He hovered over Stiles a short moment before his hands were skimming up Stiles' stomach. Stiles let out a quiet moan, arching into the touch. The skin on skin contact had his nerves buzzing. One of Peter's hands slid back out and he yanked Stiles up by the front of his shirt, capturing his lips again. Stiles hung in his shirt, kissing him back immediately. His shirt was gone and he flopped back on the mattress before Stiles realized the kiss was over. Peter smiled at his obviously shocked expression. Stiles smiled too, grabbing his hips before rolling them both. He straddled Peter quickly, dragging his arms above his head and holding down his wrists. Peter still looked amused but Stiles could feel the heat of his gaze now. He liked it.

He leaned down slowly, squeezing his hands as he brushed his lips teasingly over Peter's. Peter's lips parted, gently sucking on Stiles' bottom lip. Stiles rolled his hips, lips pulling away in a smile when Peter groaned. So maybe he'd never done this before. That didn't matter. This was Peter. Stiles didn't have to think. It just worked. It just was. This was Peter. The thought soothed his jangling nerves. Peter was his mate. He loved Peter. His heart gave a more severe thump in his chest and he pulled back. Oxygen tangled in his lungs and for a moment he couldn't breathe. He loved Peter. Stiles smiled slowly, stupidly. Peter arched an eyebrow. Stiles kissed him again before he could ask. He released Peter's arms as he moved down. Stiles explored Peter's neck and chest, feeling high on the scent of him. Feeling oddly courageous Stiles began peppering the skin with kisses as he went. Peter's heart was thudding heavily under his mouth. Stiles' eyes flickered closed for a moment. He moved further down. It was better without seeing it. He could hear Peter more clearly, more importantly he could feel Peter better. The texture of the skin. Each inhale. Each rib and the indents between. Stiles kissed the jut of his hip bone, tongue sliding down the v of muscle next. He paused at the band of Peter's jeans, biting the denim as it stopped his progression. Peter's hips bucked sharply.
"S-Stiles," he groaned. Stiles' head popped up in sheer shock.
"Did you just stutter?" he demanded, jaw flapping open. Peter looked less than amused by the situation.
"Your timing is far from ideal."

Stiles moved his hands to Peter's zipper, knowing forgiveness was needed. His cheeks were flushed red when he glanced back to Peter.
"I was just…a little proud of myself." And he was. He'd made Peter falter. The man was too damn near perfect and that little chink… Stiles had caused it. He sucked on a patch of skin as he fumbled with Peter's jeans. After a few seconds he raised his head to actually look at what he was doing. Why was it so easy taking off his own pants and so hard taking off Peter's? Maybe it was more the situation. "Maybe there's a reason you're the alpha," he thought aloud.
"Surrendering so easily?"
"What if I did?" Stiles questioned, cursing the fact that they were still talking in the back of his mind.
"I'm afraid I'd have to hunt you down." That didn't send a thrill through Stiles. He wouldn't admit it anyways.
"We are so doing that," he said, finally slipping the brass button free. Peter resumed his silence, body bowing slightly. Heat suffused Stiles when he realized Peter wasn't wearing anything under his jeans. He didn't picture Peter as the type. He pressed one more kiss to Peter's skin, just at the start of the patch of hair, before Peter pulled him up and flipped them both.
"This is going too far," Peter informed him softly, taking hold of his wrists.
"No it isn't," Stiles muttered quickly, desperation seeping in. "Not at all. Not even a little. It can't be too far if it's not even there yet."
"Relax," Peter breathed into his ear, dropping another kiss on his jaw, "I didn't say I was stopping." He made embarrassingly quick work of Stiles' jeans, completely taking them off without any help at all. Stiles already felt naked under Peter's hungry inspection.

Slight shivers ran up and over his skin as Peter painstakingly repeated what Stiles had done. When he reached Stiles boxers he didn't stop, simply peeling them out of the way. He turned Stiles over, hands running down his back slowly, over the curve of his butt as well. Stiles shivered and wriggled, unable to stay still. Peter gave a light slap, releasing a playful growl as well. Stiles moaned, hips lifting when Peter rubbed over the flushed skin. "We need something," Peter said, pressing a kiss to the small of his back.
"Mm," Stiles let out, rubbing his face against the pillow in ecstasy. Peter gave another small slap. "M-oh ah, lotion…under the bed." Stiles wasn't even sure how his brain made the connection.
"Good boy," Peter said. Stiles could hear his smile. He couldn't help smiling too. The lotion was shockingly cold but Peter's hand was warm behind it. "Relax," Peter advised, pressing a finger against Stiles. Stiles exhaled slowly. He couldn't help but tense as Peter pushed a finger inside. It stretched him and burned but Stiles pushed back onto it, already wanting more. He groaned, hands fisting in the sheets. Peter laid one hand flat on his back, holding him still as he pulled back out and thrust inside again. He added another finger after a few thrusts, slowing when Stiles tensed. He started again almost the exact second Stiles decided he wanted more. Peter was in tune to him and Stiles supposed he shouldn't he so surprised by that.

Stiles was in a hazy heat when Peter pulled him up by the hips. "This might be a little too much," Peter breathed in his ear, hovering over him, "but it's easier to do it fast. Okay?" Stiles mumbled something incoherently, moaning deeply when Peter thrust inside. Peter paused and Stiles moaned again. Peter was swelling inside of him.
"Oh God," he let out, head falling forward. Peter massaged his hips. It burned slightly but it was almost as if his body was healing before it could actually be damaged. Their hearts were both beating so quickly Stiles couldn't even discern the two. For a moment he felt giddy. It was almost like Peter was a part of him. Peter was a part of him like he was supposed to be and it was perfect. He wanted to touch Peter and he would try if it didn't already feel so good. Stiles didn't want to take a chance of messing this up. If this was how Peter wanted it… The thought drifted off as Peter thrust in again. He released another moan, embarrassingly loud. For a moment he worried about the neighbors hearing. But Peter was still in motion. Touching and holding. His body gliding behind and over Stiles'. Stiles felt wonderfully reckless as he began rocking backward to meet him. The shock still hadn't worn off. He still couldn't believe this was actually happening.

He gave a slight cry when Peter flipped him onto his back, maneuvering his flying legs easily. Stiles stared up at him with wide eyes before looking to where they were still connected. "That doesn't hurt does it?" he blurted before his entire face flushed. It was as red as a fire hydrant if the heat was anything to go by. Peter smiled and Stiles slapped a hand over his eyes. Why was his mouth always running?
"It doesn't hurt," he murmured, leaning down to kiss Stiles' throat again. "Trust me," he added, nipping at the skin and rotating his hips slightly. Stiles moaned helplessly, hands falling onto Peter's forearms, nails digging in. One of Peter's hands wrapped around the base of Stiles' cock, knot and all. Stiles' eyes squeezed shut and he couldn't help whimpering. Peter stroked after each thrust, reducing Stiles to a writhing, moaning mass of muscle and nerves. Peter just kept pushing him higher. Stiles lost track of everything. He couldn't figure out what he was doing or how much time was passing. Even his heartbeat and breaths had seemed to settle into a dizzying thrum that simply was. Sweat was gathering on his body, sticky and cool against his burning skin. His eyes couldn't stay open or closed. He was a mess when all the nerves and sensations finally gathered too tight and sprung apart. It literally felt like a small explosion had rocked his bedroom, somehow behind his eyelids as well. Peter was breathing heavily above him, jaw clenched, mouth red. It took Stiles several moments to notice that his neck had been torn open and was healing.

His hand wandered up and touched the wound. Peter flinched and closed his eyes, exhaling quickly.
"I bit you," Stiles said curiously.
"Instinctive I'm afraid." Stiles examined himself quickly, not sure that he'd have felt it. "No I didn't bite you," Peter breathed, "not yet." He slid out once the swelling had gone down and went to the bathroom, returning with a damp washcloth and a towel. Stiles hadn't moved in the twenty seconds he was gone. Peter cleaned them both off and climbed into bed, pulling up a sheet. Stiles moved closer without thinking. "I didn't hurt you?" Peter questioned softly. Stiles bit his lip against the small smile.
"No…I um think the wolfiness kinda took care of that."
"Good," Peter murmured, wrapping an arm around him. "I thought not but I was a bit distracted to be honest."
"You could have bit a pillow," Stiles offered, "I wouldn't have minded. They were only like…five bucks." Peter arched an eyebrow.
"What would biting a pillow have done?" Stiles paused to think about it.
"I don't actually know…"

A/N: This chapter. So huge. And now I'm going to bed. Because this behemoth fought me the whole way. I am exhausted. Next chapter should be up soonish… So far school is…well. It's okay so far. (20 credit hours though so reader beware..)

I'd like to start wrapping this up but I still have no idea how to end it so I can't make any promises. Plus it's already four times longer than it was supposed to be…

You all are bad influences.

But you are so lovely.

I don't even think I mind.

I'll stop sleepy rambling now.

Thank you and good night.