Peter released Jackson as he stepped away from the wall, watching him carefully. "Are you alright?" He could tell the boy's smile was forced and he wanted to hold him until everything was okay but he knew Jackson wouldn't allow it. "Don't listen to him," he tried again.
"No, I-I know," Jackson said, another forced smile. His entire expression was…breakable. Peter examined him again. Even the way he held his shoulders looked brittle. "I just need some time…away from all this stuff," Jackson was saying. Peter frowned. He couldn't just leave him alone and hope that he'd be okay. He couldn't let Jackson try to find his way back on his own. He couldn't do that. "Peter please," Jackson said again. "I just…I'll be okay. I'm just not now."
"You're upset," Peter said, "understandably so. I'll stay with you." Jackson only looked closer to breaking with the words.
"You don't understand," he said softly, shaking his head. "I can't…I can't lean on you. I need to do this by myself."
"What I'm trying to tell you, what you don't yet fully understand yet, is that you don't have to. Stiles and I are here. We are your family. We will help you. We want to help you." Jackson stopped trying to smile. His mouth pinched unhappily.
"But I'll never believe I deserve you if I don't stand on my own."
"Haven't you been through enough yet?" Jackson lifted one shoulder, expression unchanging. "Jackson," Peter sighed, lifting one hand to his forehead. Any other time the stubbornness might have been endearing. As it was…he wanted to shake the boy.
"Look it's fine," Jackson said. "I'm just going to stay here and," his hand moved through the air for a moment, "I'll just…figure it out or something. I'll be okay."
"Why won't you let me help you?"
"There are other things to worry about," Jackson responded. "The hunters. Stiles." Peter tensed.
"You are both mine." Jackson walked to the door, not looking at Peter.
"That's not exactly true…now is it?"

…

Stiles gnawed on his pen cap, wondering what was happening with Jackson. Peter would figure it out he knew. He half smiled. Peter. He loved him. He did. There wasn't really any use hiding it anymore. How else would Stiles ever be so…cutesy? He was like, tween chick cutesy. Like Edward Cullen cutesy. The worst part was, he didn't even mind. He felt like he felt at the fair in summer, after eating cotton candy all day. It was a good feeling.
"Stiles," Scott whispered, sitting in front of him.
"Yeah?" he whispered in response, eyes sweeping the rest of the classroom quickly.
"Allison says there's hunters in town. She says they're bad news." Stiles sighed and bit his lip for a moment.
"As opposed to the other hunters trying to kill us."
"Hey Allison's family isn't that bad…in comparison."
"Hunter…werewolf. Not that bad isn't in that sentence."
"Just shut up," Scott whispered, clearly not amused, "these guys don't care. They don't have a code. They will go after us simply because of what we are."
"Fantastic." He waited a few moments. "So what are we supposed to do?" Scott didn't answer. Stiles didn't know if he simply didn't want to or if he didn't have an answer.

Stiles nearly jumped out of his skin when he caught sight of Peter in his rearview mirror. "Jesus!" he yelled, jerking to look at him. "What the hell are you doing?" Peter smiled.
"I simply wanted to be sure you were safe."
"I was fine. Pre heart attack."
"There are hunters in the area," Peter said gravely.
"Yeah. Scott told me. He said they're bad news."
"Derek saved Jackson's life," Peter did not sound pleased by the fact. Stiles took a moment to evaluate.
"That's…weirdly good right?"
"It would have been, if he hadn't turned around and told Jackson that he was worthless and he shouldn't have saved his life." Stiles winced. Poor Jackson.
"Is he okay?"
"He said he needed to deal with it himself," Peter muttered, expression nearly murderous. Stiles sighed.
"He would say that."
"You should probably start driving," Peter added. Stiles cranked the engine and began backing out. "Derek knows you're my mate." Stiles slammed on the breaks and glared at him.
"Are you trying to make me wreck?"
"I figured I'd tell you fast…like a band aid."
"That simile is fucking ridiculous," Stiles growled. "And how does he know that exactly? Are you completely stunted in dealing with people?" Peter issued a warning growl and Stiles huffed helplessly. It wasn't as if he'd ever had control of his mouth.
"He smelled you on me." Gritting his teeth Stiles actually backed out of the parking spot.

He began pacing restlessly the moment he entered his room. Peter put up with it for about three minutes before pulling him down to the bed. Stiles huffed out another breath and tried to be annoyed. But it wasn't really Peter's fault. He had legit begged. And if Peter had been begging him…well it would have happened twice as fast.
"So…what? Did he say he was coming after me? Did he arts and crafts a serial killerish letter for you? Growl in Morse code or something?"
"He didn't say anything about you. He was too busy ripping Jackson to shreds. You're kind of ridiculous by the way."
"Shut up, you love me." Peter slid a sidelong glance at him and smiled briefly. Stiles flushed and glanced to his lap. Heat rose and lapped at his skin. "So um," he stumbled over the words, "do we still have to…uh-hide?"
"What are you trying to insinuate Stiles?"
"Wha-no I um wasn't…I was just asking…"
"Faced with imminent danger and possibly death and you are asking me about sex," Peter continued as if he hadn't spoken.
"Okay first of all, it was a general sense of curiosity. Secondly, I am a teenage boy."
"Yes. Which means you are far too young to be having sex with me."
"You're cutting me off?" Stiles demanded, party outraged.
"You are a teenage boy," Peter reminded him. Stiles crouched on the bed before tackling him.
"I swear to God you are not funny," he muttered.
"I think I'm getting better," Peter argued. Stiles growled slightly, leaning down and nipping at his jaw.
"Sure you think it's funny now but what if I turn the tables?" Peter's eyes sparked and he smirked.
"You can't turn the tables on this one Stiles." Stiles kissed him hard, biting at his lips as his hands raked down Peter's chest.
"Oh yeah?" he questioned breathlessly. "What if I say no?" He rolled off the bed and backed away, unable to keep from smiling a tiny bit.
"I've already said no. So your no is ineffectual."
"So you don't want to make me your mate? Officially?" Stiles tilted his head back, one fingertip trailing down his neck as if in thought. "I mean…alright. I guess if you're over the whole neck biting thing then there's not a thing I can do about it." He kept his finger sliding down, dragging the collar of his shirt when he encountered it.
"You played with matches as a child, didn't you?"

Stiles turned just in time to duck Peter's attack. Peter wrapped his arms around him tightly and kissed the base of his neck instead.
"No," Stiles said, struggling not to laugh, "I'm officially saying no. You're too old for me." Lips shaking against his skin as he laughed silently, Peter ignored him. Peter's teeth scraped along the bump of the tip of his spine for a moment too fleeting. He ripped away both of Stiles' shirt without warning. Stiles shuddered. He gasped, shooting to his toes and back arching as Peter gently began pulling the leash off. His tongue laved over the sealing skin and down he went. Stiles shuddered again. "Okay…slow is definitely better." His hands clenched against themselves uselessly. Peter's hands dropped away and his mouth disappeared, Stiles barely registered the leash hitting the floor with a dull sound.
"Still holding out?" Peter questioned. Stiles turned and crossed his arms.
"Of course. You're ancient." Peter smiled.
"Insolent boy." His eyes moved over Stiles slowly. "How should I punish you?" Stiles choked on air suddenly, one hand covering his mouth as he coughed.
"Punish?" he squeaked, eyes watering. Peter's smile widened and his tongue flicked out to lick his lips. He walked backwards and settled on the end of Stiles' bed. After a moment, achingly long as Stiles' heart tried to beat out of his chest, Peter pointed to his knee. Stiles snorted, hands falling onto his hips. "I have never been spanked in my life. I do not intend to start now."
"I find that very hard to believe."
"My parents didn't believe in it," Stiles informed him, smiling with all his teeth.
"Well I do so," he pointed again. "You're at five now," Peter said as Stiles stared. "If you want more…" Stiles had no doubt that Peter was serious. Cheeks on fire, he crossed to him. "Pants off," Peter ordered, sobering his expression.
"Can't believe I'm doing this," Stiles mumbled. He opened his jeans and shoved them down, stepping out and squawking in protest when Peter yanked him down. "Crotchety are we?" he snipped, trying to find a comfortable position. Peter slapped him quickly, hard, and Stiles went still. Peter took advantage of this and slid his boxers off. Stiles was still trying to come back to Earth when Peter slapped his ass again. He bowed under the pressure, gripping at Peter's leg and groaning. He kept his head down so Peter wouldn't see his face, not that it really mattered. Peter smoothed his hand over the hot flesh unexpectedly.
"Couldn't have you out running through the woods," Peter murmured, "not with hunters around."
"You were ah-" Stiles cut off as he received another smack, "thinking about that?"
"Of course." He smacked Stiles harder. "This was Plan B. I really worry about your opinion of me Stiles." Stiles mostly ignored him, rolling his hips in search of friction. Peter smacked him again before pulling him up by the hips.

Stiles found himself straddling Peter. After a moment he realized that Peter had grabbed the lotion at some point. He threw his body into Peter's as Peter slid a finger inside. His backside was burning hot and he couldn't say he minded the extra sensitivity. It wasn't like it would last long anyways. He kissed him, slowly pushing his hips back onto Peter's hand. It felt like an eternity before Peter was finally inside of him. Denim and the cold of Peter's zipper brushed Stiles' skin and he shivered, pressing even closer. Peter seemed content to let him control the pace for a while, paying attention to his neck. Stiles couldn't help a long moan when Peter took hold of his hips and yanked him down. Peter turned them both and dropped Stiles to the bed before swinging one of his legs out of the way and thrusting in again. Stiles whined at the change in positions, hands fisting in the sheets. Peter didn't give him a chance to get used to it, driving deeper before he'd even caught his breath.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Stiles let out, "Peter, wait, I'm gonna," he didn't even get a chance to finish the sentence before he was gone. Peter paused and Stiles groaned as his knot swelled. He swatted at him halfheartedly. "What the hell?" Peter smiled.
"Don't worry. We're not done." Peter stroked his cock, which was still half hard. Stiles moaned, eyes closing.
"It's too soon…God…Peter," he gritted his teeth. The skin was oversensitive but still began to draw tight. Peter smiled cockily, hips rocking shallowly as he stroked faster.
"Teenage boy," he murmured. Stiles gritted his teeth as another moan slipped out. He pulled himself up before wrapping an arm around Peter's neck and pulling him down.
"If I didn't love you so much," he muttered, chest tightening as Peter froze. Peter kissed him before he could verbally flail into an even worse situation.
"I love you too," he whispered against Stiles' neck. Stiles smiled, eyes closing as his arms wrapped around his neck and back, pulling him close. He gasped as Peter began moving again, crying out when Peter bit into his neck. Heat spread through him in thick waves. He bent his head to Peter's shoulder, biting right through the shirt and skin.

Stiles felt warm when he woke up. Peter was wrapped around him, half on top of him, sleeping soundly. A glance to the clock revealed it was four in the afternoon. Stiles frowned thoughtfully. Passed out then. He smiled to himself for a moment. He inched out of bed and yanked on jeans before going to the bathroom. He checked his phone as an afterthought when he got back. One missed call and once voicemail. Stifling a yawn he listened to it.
"Hey Stiles," Jackson sounded tired and Stiles sighed to himself, "just wanted to make sure you're okay and that Peter got to you. Guess I'll try him." He moved to his dresser and pulled on a shirt before going downstairs and out the door. He'd check on Jackson and hopefully be back in bed before Peter had fully recovered. Stiles had a lot of bragging planned.

A/N: Dun dun dunnn..! Sorry..I'm really like REALLY excited for next chapter. Been planning for like a really long time lol. And hopefully it will be up soon..? *sigh* So many stories. So much homework. I really do need a clone.

Thank you for your patience.
And reading or reviewing or messaging me or whatever! I appreciate it all so thank you!