Spell of Forthcoming's Spent
Chapter 10: Developing Affliction of Trust
Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf, or the Characters.
"Trust is like a mirror, you can fix it if it's broken, but you can still see the crack in that mother fucker's reflection."
~ Lady Gaga
John was standing in his kitchen, backed up against his counter with a spoon being waved threateningly at his face… or rather his chest because his son was on the short side of being a child.
"You are messing it up!" Stiles yelled. "It has to be perfect Daddy, and you're messing it up! Papa is going to be here any minute and dinner is messed up and he'll see it and he'll leave again! It has to be perfect!" Stiles waved the spoon then jerked it at his dad. Then he burst into tears.
John went down to his knees, "Oh, oh baby, it'll be okay. Papa," and boy was that weird to say, he cleared his throat, "Papa will love it no matter what. I will never take you away from him again and vice-versa. He will be your Papa for the rest of your life." John wiped the tears from his son's cheeks just as the doorbell rang.
Stiles ripped himself from John's arms, and John had a horrible premonition that he will not be the favorite parent for a very long time… if ever again. Dammit.
It had been three weeks since Peter and John made up and the couple had been taking it slow. This was the first dinner that Stiles was being included in though. John and Peter had taken the boy separately, switching off every three days, while getting Talia or Melissa to babysit while they had their dates.
John hefted himself up off the floor as Peter, with a chattering Stiles on his hip, walked through the door.
"John," Peter greeted, walking over to give him a kiss on the cheek.
John opened his arms and drew the man in, Stiles squished between them. "You look lovely tonight," he whispered into Peter's ear, kissing him on the cheek in return, feeling the blush beneath his lips. It made him smile.
"Ew, Da~ad no icky stuff," Stiles whined, pushing at John, before he turned into Peter's embrace and hugging his neck tightly.
His son was jealous. It was adorable.
Later that night when Peter came down from putting Stiles down, Peter came downstairs and draped himself over John. "John," Peter asked.
"Hmm," John hummed.
"Why was Stiles crying when I first got here?" Peter asked softly.
John had to fight the urge to freeze. Peter's voice while soft and lilting was reminiscent to the voice he used as he held John to the wall a few weeks back. He made himself relax before answering. "He was a little upset because dinner prep wasn't going the way he wanted." John turned to Peter, "I don't know if you noticed, but he gets a little OCD when he's stressed. And he was stressed because he wanted everything to be perfect so you don't leave again. I told him that you won't, and that I won't ever take him from you and vice versa."
He understood better, the dynamic of their family… of their pack. He understood now that he had been thinking in human terms and while he maybe human, his mate and his son were not. Peter was a werewolf, he needs a pack. And while Talia's was his original unit, Peter had broken from them the moment he met Stiles and John. It was instinctual for the man. His son was magical, and after discussing it with Talia, and later Deaton, he understood that Stiles' spark had manifested and connected itself to his unit, his pack, and by tearing that apart like he had, there was a possibility that he could have broken Stiles. Broken him in a way no Father… no parent could ever comprehend or tolerate. It was no wonder that Peter had been on edge about letting John involvement remain as equal to his own. His instincts, while still loving John, were telling him to be wary around him, to protect Stiles. It would take time for that to be repaired.
John pulled the man over the back of the couch and on top of him when he saw Peter's eyes misting. He knew from what Talia had told him that Peter's emotions would be going haywire after the separation from his mate and cub. John just hugged the man closer and breathed him in. Losing his mate had affected him as well.
It was nearly an hour later before either of them spoke.
"Peter," John called from the other side of his desk. They were eating lunch together because Robert, Talia's mate, was taking the boys on a fieldtrip to a dairy farm. There was an ongoing bet on whether Stiles will somehow end up in a cattle pin, or Derek will. John bet on Stiles, he knew his son well enough to earn $50.00 off him. Peter bet that Stiles would somehow convince Derek to go into the cattle pin.
Peter looked up from his side salad from the Diner, and smiled at John.
"Peter will you move back in," John put on his pleading face, "Please? Both me and Stiles, as it turns out, can't live without you."
Peter took a minute before answering, "Yes." He then picked up his salad and fork and began to eat again.
John let out a sigh in relief and smiled.
Peter's phone rang and he answered it. A grin spread across his face as he hung up again. Holding out his hand he said, "That was Robert, pay up." John scowled, reaching for his wallet. He had thought Derek would have been smarter than that. Shaking his head he handed his mate $50.
He would certainly be speaking with the young beta. Derek needed to be able to stand up to Stiles… or at least look like he could stand up against him, for John's wallet if nothing else.
Peter was in the kitchen with Stiles when the phone rang. Peter was prepping dinner and John was once again banned from the kitchen. Life was good.
John almost didn't answer because he didn't want a call from the office. It was his night off and he wanted to stay home with his boys. But it might be an emergency so he hefted himself off the couch and over to the wireless.
He answered and put the phone to his ear, "Hello, Stilinski residence."
"John," and John froze at the sound of his mother's voice.
He cleared his throat, "Mother."
"John we will be in town on Friday, dinner at 7, as usual." His mother said. John nearly groaned. It was that time of year again, only weeks away from Stiles' birthday.
"Angelo's then?" John asked.
He could hear his mother sniff at the choice. She was always upset that Angelo's—a family friendly restaurant—was the highest class place in town. "I suppose."
"Mother I will be bringing my partner," John proclaimed.
"Partner?" She asked.
"Peter and I have been together for a while now, it's serious. If you can't handle that then don't come," John said and then hung up. Well that was one hell of a way to come out to your parents.
"John honey?" John felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Peter there. "Are you okay? Your heartbeat sky rocketed."
"That was my mother," John told him. Peter raised an eyebrow. "I'm not really on good terms with my parents."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Peter asked.
John shook his head, and then nodded before taking a seat back on the couch. Peter took up the armrest.
"I never had a good relationship with them growing up. They expected things from me that I just wasn't capable of. My dad is a CEO of a few chemical plants, and my mother was the typical trophy wife. They wished for me to grow up and become a doctor or lawyer and were disappointed when I followed my passion. We went for years not talking until Stiles was born, and even then I didn't see them until Stiles turned 2. They wanted to have a dinner to celebrate, but not even on the week of his birth, only vaguely around the week he was born. They get him things like a college fund, or an inheritance he will get when he turns 18, which would be great if they didn't make snide comments about how I can't do that for him because of my career choice. They ignore him, and they don't realize he's as smart as they wanted me to be, I just don't know what to do." John rambled there at the end.
Peter ran his fingers through John's hair. "So I'm guessing the dinner is Friday."
John just nodded miserably. Peter got up and pulled John with him, "Well let's not worry about that now, dinners ready."
John smiled at him and let him lead the way to the dining room, hands still entwined.
Peter smoothed his shirt down and smiled at his reflection. John's parents wouldn't know what hit them. He turned to see John standing in the doorway. John smiled at him.
"Don't you look lovely," John complimented. He had found it oddly endearing when they first began to date that Peter preferred to be called lovely, or beautiful, rather than handsome. It had just slipped out one day. He had called the man lovely because that was what he had always thought of him, and Peter responded to it by making John a sandwich, kissing him thoroughly, and keeping Stiles occupied through the game that John had been particularly invested in. It's not that Peter didn't usually do those things for him. It was that Peter seemed more invested, even going as far as bringing him drinks, sitting with him after Stiles had been put to bed, and watching it with him. Something Peter never really did. He hated any sport not basketball. So John took note of the term of endearment, marking it down as a win, and reveling in the smile that graced the man's face to whole afternoon.
As expected Peter preened. He made his way over to John smiling. "You look rather dashing as well mate of mine." That was something that had changed since they began to date again. Peter had been calling John mate, or mate of mine, or just mine, and John didn't think that Peter even realized it. When John had pointed it out after the first couple of times Peter called him as such, he had clammed up until John had told him it was okay. That he liked being claimed in such a way. And he had used the word claimed. That was another tidbit that he had picked up from Talia. That certain words had a certain effect on a werewolves—claimed, mate, mine, bitch, bite me—were a few for example.
John just grinned. "Stiles is standing by the door repeating what you told him like a mantra." John laughed, "I think it will be the first time he makes it to the restaurant without making a mess of himself."
It was Peter's turn to grin now. They edged out of the room and around each other, all the while stripping clothes with their eyes from the other.
Approaching the front door, Peter looked at his little darling. Stiles was standing there in his white button up and black slacks, hands clasped behind his back mumbling, "Clean clothes means green toes."
Stiles had had a certain fascination with Laura's new acid green nail polish a few days back. He had wanted to paint his toes with them, but Peter and John had gave a resounding no in answer because they didn't need or want to suffer the mess. But Peter had to bribe Stiles into his clothes, the boy not wanting anything to do with his Sunday best. There were rules of course. Peter would be the one to apply the polish for however long Stiles' fascination held out, and Stiles wouldn't try to find the bottle and apply it himself. But all in all clean clothes means green toes.
Peter ruffled Stiles hair and bent to pick the boy up. He kissed him and as a family made their way to the car.
John looked at his boys and smiled. Not even Claudia put him this at ease when he had to go see his parents.
They pulled up to the restaurant and they sedately got out of the car. They may have even beaten his parents there this time. They always liked to arrive thirty minutes early.
They didn't beat them there, but only by a minute if what the hostess said was true. She showed them to a table off to the side with Stan and Mary Stilinski already seated. They rose when they saw his family approach, giving wane smiles.
Stan Stilinski was a tall man, with a round chin and grey hair that was steadily turning blonde as he aged. He was where John got his eyes from and the very same wrinkles lining his forehead, though he showed little kindness to any one person with the exception of his wife. He was a careful man, and cared more for politics and his family name then his actual family. Mary Stilinski was a soft woman. She was soft in the face, she was soft in her blonde hair, and she was soft in the way she held herself. But she was also reserved, and John knew that it was mainly for the way she had been raised. She had been breed to be a wife, and a mother, and she hadn't wanted anything else for herself.
Mary hadn't liked or appreciated Claudia. She hadn't liked her spirit or the way Claudia refused to stop working. Hopefully it would be better with Peter, but John wasn't holding his breath.
Oh course Peter, seeing John's discomfort stepped forward. Most people didn't realize it, or even recognize the gesture, but John had caught on. Peter had put himself between John and the threat. He angled his body so that Stiles was behind him. His legs were spread and ready to fight. Peter was protecting them with his body. "Hello you must be Stan and Mary." Peter immediately used their first names, marking himself equal to or above them. That would throw them off. "I've heard so much about you." The way he said it, and the way Stan and Mary stiffened, everyone knew. That wasn't a platitude, it was forewarning of the knowledge of how exactly they treated John and Stiles and even Claudia in the past. A forewarning and a threat that it will not happen again. "My name is Peter Fallon Hale." He held out his hand to Stan.
It took Stan a moment. "Fallon? I had an associate with the last name Fallon. He was a good business man."
"My father is named Hank Fallon." Peter offered a smile on his face that was sharp and biting. "Us kids took on our mother's name as was tradition in our family. Ha was a rather advantageous man when he was alive."
"That's him. I hadn't realized he had a family." Stan offered gruffly.
"Well yes, I am the youngest, and I have two older sisters." Peter offered. Stan hummed. Peter turned to John's mother, "Mary it is a pleasure to meet you." He took her offered hand and kissed it lightly.
"The pleasure is mine," she smiled demurely at him.
John cleared his throat. "Why don't we sit down?"
Peter gave him a smile just as Stiles piped in, "Can I sit between you and Papa?" He asked John.
Stan and Mary's eyes widened a fraction.
John smiled and ruffled the boys head, "Of course you can pal."
They set him up in the chair between them and John pulled out Peter's seat, before taking his own. His parents seated across from them.
"He calls Peter papa?" Mary asked.
"Isn't Stiles a little old to be carried everywhere?" Stan spoke sternly.
John answered his mother first. "Peter and myself are steady and partners. He is Stiles Papa." He left no room for argument.
And as for Stan's question, both parents were happy that Stiles seemed to be in his own little world. He had pulled out one of Derek's books, and was reading. Where he had hidden it, neither John nor Peter knew, but they were glad for the distraction.
Peter tackled Stan's question next. "Stiles was almost abducted a while back. John had been fortunate enough to turn around at the right moment and shot the man who was attempting to take him. As it turns out he was part of a team that liked to abduct children, and then kill the parents. After he was abducted his associate decided to finish the job, he broke into our home, he shot myself, and he tried to take Stiles again, before John got home in the nick of time to save us." His answer was tight, and hard. "So Stiles is allowed to cling as he wishes for however long he wishes."
Stan's attention snapped to John, "Why were we not informed?"
John raised an eyebrow about to answer when the waiter appeared. "May I take your drink order?" She was perky with pink streaks in her hair, and she now had Stiles attention.
"You have pink hair," Stiles said loudly. "Papa she has pink hair!" He was pointing now excited.
She smiled largely, "Yes I do buddy, would you like some pink lemonade?"
Stiles nodded fast, before shaking his head and looking at his dad in askance. John just smiled at him, giving him the go ahead. Stiles turned back to her nodding his head again. She laughed.
"And for the rest of you?"
"Oh, oh I know!" Stiles shouted. "Dad wants coffee and water, but it has to be decaf else Papa will be mad at him. Don't bring sugar or cream he doesn't like those. Papa will want iced tea, no lemon. Granddad will want that red wine, the expensive one, and Grandmom will have the same even though she doesn't like it, she likes sweet lemonade like me." Stiles grinned.
Again Stan and Mary looked surprised.
Peter smiled, "Stiles is very astute." He nodded at the waitress. "That shall be fine for myself."
John laughed, he hadn't known that Stiles had catalogued those things over the years. "Yeah, me too."
Stan grimaced and nodded his head.
Mary took a moment. She gazed at Stiles before looking at the waitress, "I shall have lemonade like my grandson."
Stiles actually smiled at her for the first time and Mary felt a little flutter in her chest. A flutter she hadn't felt since John had been but a baby.
The dinner went surprisingly well after that. Tension was still high with Stan, but Mary seemed to have relaxed. She had even discussed a few things with Stiles. Stiles had been really enthusiastic when the discussion turned to Derek and Scott.
After dessert, Marry and Stan had given Stiles a card and told John that they had placed $10,000 dollars into the college fund they had started years ago for the boy, and while Stan went to go get the car, Mary had leaned down and given Stiles a hug for the first time.
Stiles smiled the whole way home, and John couldn't fight his own small grin that hung at the edge of his lips. He looked over at Peter. Peter made everything better.
Peter had just came down from making sure Stiles was in bed asleep when he saw John. His mate was on the phone.
Peter let his hearing pick up.
"Mom?" John asked.
It must have been the beginning of the conversation.
"Hello John," she said.
"Mom is there something you need? Did something happen to dad? We just saw you at the restaurant."
"No, no John. I had just called to say I had a lovely evening. Peter was an exceptional man. And…"
"And?" John prompted.
"And Stiles is a beautiful child. A little loud, but bright and kind. I'm sorry for not being more involved. I'm so sorry John."
John was quiet for a moment. Then he sighed. "Peter and I are throwing Stiles a birthday party. We are taking him to the zoo with his friends and at around noon we rented out a party room to celebrate. Melissa, Scott's mother, and Peter's family as well as some of the deputies are going to be there. I would like to extend an invitation. It's next Saturday."
Peter could hear a small hiccup from the other end of the line. It sounded like Mary was crying.
"I would love to come John. You said Saturday at noon?"
"At the Zoo just outside of Beacon county."
"I will be there John."
"Alright Mom, goodnight."
"Goodnight John."
John hung up and looked over his shoulder. He smiled at Peter, and Peter could do nothing but smile back.
There is a Lemon scene missing from this. It is on Ao3.