How Chris and Peter Got a Kitten, a teen wolf fanfic

Teen Wolf || Stetopher || How Chris and Peter Got a Kitten || Stetopher || Teen Wolf

Title: How Chris and Peter Got a Kitten – Stiles Summer Stories 2024

Tags: m/m/m, polyamory, Pack Mom Stiles, True Mates, Spark Stiles, magic, curses, Kitten Stiles, fluff, hurt/comfort, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, Jackson Doesn't Leave, m/f

Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Chris Argent, Derek Hale, Jackson Whittemore, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Isaac Lahey, Cora Hale, Allison Argent

Writer's Month Prompts: chess + park

Summary: Chris and Peter are on their anniversary retreat and the pack is not supposed to bother them. However, the pack faces a witch while they are gone and somehow, Stiles gets cursed into a fluffy kitten that won't let anyone but the Alpha pair touch him. So the couple gets to kitten sit while the rest of the pack figures out how to turn Stiles back human.

How Chris and Peter Got a Kitten

Stiles Summer Stories 2024

Peter was shirtless, straddling his mate's thick, comfortable thighs. He was dragging his lips along the span of that tempting neck, kissing, scratching his teeth over it. The man beneath him was grunting pleased, bucking up into him. The moment was perfect, until his buzzing phone interrupted them. Groaning annoyed, Peter sat up so he could look at his phone. It was just Isaac though, not Stiles, which meant it was not important, certainly not important enough for Peter to take his hands off of Chris when the man looked as delectable as he did right now.

Chris and Peter were on a romantic week long retreat at a charming little mountain cabin and the damn pack knew not to bother the Alpha pair. Stiles was in charge, the pack knew that. Emissary of the pack, the most clever member of Peter's pack. Stiles was in charge, which meant Stiles was the only one allowed to bother Peter during this week. And, admittedly, perhaps he also put Stiles in charge to have an excuse for not ignoring Stiles' calls, because Peter could never ignore his little Spark. And the last thing Peter needed was for the rest of the pack to grow suspicious of the special privileges Stiles had with the Alpha. Nobody needed to know that Stiles was his mate, was his and Chris' third, not until the two were ready to court the young Spark. Which, due to Chris being incredibly boring and upstanding and all that moral nonsense won't be until Stiles turned eighteen.

His phone buzzed again and he took a deep breath, tearing his lips away from Chris' jawline again to glare at his phone again. Boyd this time. Mh. Less likely to call for no reason, but still not Stiles. Turning his attention back to Chris, he stole a slow, deep kiss.

A different phone buzzed and Chris pushed him off his chest with a heavy sigh. They both saw Allison's name and smiling face light up at them and Peter knew he'd lost this battle. The only way to go around the explicit no bothering order was for Allison to call her dad, because under no circumstances was Chris ever going to ignore his daughter.

"Hello, princess," Chris smiled amused at his exasperated mate. "I really hope that this is important and not just a call to check in, because Peter is already glaring at me."

"You need to come home, you both need to come home right now."

The smile faded from Chris' lips, his eyebrows drawing together. "Allison, calm down. What's going on? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Peter sat up straighter and more serious too. She sounded panicked and it took a lot to make the trained huntress panic. Still, why would she call them. His fingers twisted into the blanket.

"No, no, I'm fine," Allison took a deep breath. "But it's Stiles."

And there it was. The thing Peter had feared. He sucked in a breath, eyes flashing.

"What's wrong with him?" Chris was already getting out of the bed.

"He… He…" Allison took yet another breath to calm herself. "There was a witch and we had a plan, a good plan, but when she realized he's a Spark, she got really vicious and she cursed him."

"Okay," Chris was putting on his shirt, the phone between his ear and shoulder. "What do you know about the curse? Is that why he's not calling us himself? Because he can't speak?"

"I… yeah," Allison swallowed. "He, uhm… He's kind of… a cat now…"

Chris stumbled a little and Peter paused. "What."

"She turned him into a cat. Full cat. Fur and triangular ears and all. He's kind of cute, honestly," Allison sounded a little more calm now. "But… he… he won't let any of us touch him, he climbed up a tree and every time one of us tries to get him down, he hisses at us and swats at us. He scratched Erica, Isaac and even Scott up badly. So he… he's not just physically a cat, he doesn't seem to recognize any of us and it's… it's scaring us."

Okay. Peter ground his teeth together and took a deep breath. He knew his eyes were blazing red, but someone had dared curse one of his mates. And while Peter hadn't even been there to protect their little Spark. Chris reached out to take his hand, giving it a gentle, calming squeeze.

"We're on our way back, sweetie," Chris spoke softly. "Three hours. Two if we break every speeding law in the county and I feel like the sheriff may let us off the hook for this one."

Peter grabbed the phone from Chris. "Until we're back, Derek is in charge. I want you all to stay away from the witch, do not let any of the betas run after her in retaliation. If her magic affects Stiles, then it will be even more potent on you. I need you all to stay with Stiles, watch him. If he reacts volatile to you right now, then don't get closer. Don't spook him, but… keep an eye on him. Where are Scott and your pack, Allison?"

"The others left," Allison sighed. "Since he was reacting so strongly even to his own pack, Scott told our betas to leave too. I think they went to make a plan on how to track the witches, but… what you said makes sense, I'll tell them to wait with any action. Scott left to talk to Deaton."

"Good," Peter nodded pleased. "Atta, girl. Tell your mate to call us, immediately, if he finds anything useful out from his Emissary."

"I love you, Allison. We're on our way," Chris called out before they hung up.

As soon as the call disconnected did Peter growl, dark and filled with the need for revenge. His claws were out and he was eager to sink them into a witch. Chris heaved a sigh, approaching him.

"I need you to calm down, Peter," Chris whispered gently. "I need you to focus so we can get back to Beacon Hills and help our boy out. Can't do that if you lose it."

Taking a slow, deep breath, Peter nodded. "Right. You're right, Christopher. I'm sorry."

"No," Chris shook his head and nuzzled Peter's neck in a soothing manner. "Your mate's in danger and you aren't there. You already lost so much, love."

"We both did," Peter argued, rubbing his nose along Chris' neck.

And that was true. The two of them, they'd lost nearly their entire family and they had to rebuild everything from the ground. Peter had known Chris was his mate when they were young, fooling around, but Gerard hadn't allowed it so Chris had gotten married to a respectable huntress. Only when the both of them had lost near everything, did they finally find together. And rebuilt together.

After Derek had given up the Alpha Spark, after Scott became a True Alpha and started building his own pack from the ground, Peter and Chris drifted together. And then Peter went and killed the annoying Alpha bitch who had attempted to make Derek kill Boyd, which gave Peter the Alpha Spark back. At first, Peter had been worried that Derek wouldn't take it well, but Derek had never wanted to be an Alpha to begin with and they both knew he wouldn't have a Hale Pack left if not for Stiles – Stiles, who'd so naturally taken over the role of Pack Mom as soon as him and Scott had joined the pack, protecting the betas at the rave and after, discovering his magic for the sake of protecting the pack, telling Derek and Peter where to find Erica and Boyd after Gerard had taken and tortured them all, having tried to protect the betas in that basement too.

A Pack Mom. When Peter had first learned that, he'd been thrilled. Not every pack was lucky enough to have someone capable of filling this role. The heart and soul of a pack, the glue to keep it together. And that was exactly what Stiles had done, by bringing Erica and Boyd back to them, making them stay in Beacon Hills, by bringing Jackson into the pack and making sure Derek and Peter would teach him control and include him.

By the time Scott became a True Alpha, Stiles' bonds with the Hale Pack were too deep to sever. Not without serious pain for Stiles. And Scott, to his credit, loved Stiles fiercely and would never want to cause him pain, even if he wanted Stiles in his own pack. Scott built his own pack, with Allison, Lydia, the reformed Alpha twins, Malia and Kira, and the newbies. After Peter's daughter and her mate, Peter kind of checked out on what was going on with the McCall Pack. Scott was taking in essentially every stray he could find, and good for him.

Though Peter knew that if Stiles wasn't part of the Hale Pack, there would be tension between the two packs. Scott and him had too much history, and yes Peter was aware that was on him, for them to co-exist as Alphas in the same town. The preserve was Hale territory, and Scott respected that, stayed out of it if possibly entirely. Otherwise, the two packs actually helped each other if there was a common threat they faced. They had all worked together to save Stiles from the Nogitsune.

"This is going to be such a big set-back," Peter whispered worried.

Chris sat behind the wheel, driving them illegally fast back to Beacon Hills. He grunted his agreement and reached a hand out for Peter's, linking their fingers. Not just to comfort Peter, also to seek comfort himself. The Nogitsune had messed Stiles up badly, he still had regular nightmares that left him screaming loudly. Whenever something unpredictable happened, he would press his thumbs rhythmically against the pads of his other fingers, counting. They'd all worked so hard on helping him, but this? Losing himself again? That just screamed trigger.

"We'll get our boy back. And we'll help him get himself back, again."

Peter hummed softly, hoping that Chris was right. It was a little funny to him, how fiercely protective Chris had grown of Stiles too. When Peter had first confessed to Chris that they had a third, that there was another matebond they shared, Chris had been mortified to hear it was the sixteen year old loudmouth friend of Allison's. But once Chris accepted the matebond he had with Peter, accepted his role as Alpha Mate, and thus got more involved in the Hale Pack, he gradually grew attached to Stiles. Pack Mom and Emissary, because how could Peter possibly pass up something as delectable as his mate being a Spark? Especially since the former Emissary of the former Hale Pack had very clearly aligned with Scott even before Scott became a True Alpha.

/break\

Chris grunted at the impact of his daughter, Allison practically throwing herself at him as soon as him and Peter exited their car. She may be the Alpha Mate of the McCall Pack, but she was part of why their packs had such a strong alliance. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Hey, kiddo," Chris murmured. "We're here now. Show us, where's Stiles."

Allison heaved a sigh and led the way into the park. The Hale Pack was sitting in practically a circle around a tree, Derek with his arms crossed, glaring up at the tree, Erica laying sprawled out with her head in Boyd's lap and her feet in Isaac's lap, Jackson arguing with Cora. None of them were injured and none of them looked overly worried, which eased some of Chris' tension.

"Where is my Emissary?" Peter asked, voice a growl.

All the betas pointed at the tree. Both Chris and Peter approached the tree slowly, looking through the branches until they spotted movement. When Peter tried to approach, Boyd caught his wrist.

"I wouldn't," Boyd pointed over at Erica and Isaac. "Their scratches aren't healing."

That did give Peter and Chris pause. The two exchanged a concerned look, before crouching down next to their beta. Erica didn't seem in pain, she mostly was pouting as she showed off her scratched-up arms. Isaac did the same, though he looked absolutely miserable.

"Stiles is gonna be so upset about hurting us," Isaac sighed.

Oh. Chris' face twisted and so did his stomach. Peter was right, this was going to be a huge set-back for their boy. He was still haunted by nearly killing Allison, hadn't been able to look at her for months. Even if just some scratches, he had once again hurt someone he loved without wanting to, without control over his body. Chris grabbed Peter's hand tightly.

"Dad?" Allison called out. "You got things covered here? I'll head back to my pack. I promise, I'll call you as soon as we find out anything useful. You do the same, okay?"

Chris gave her a sharp nod and then watched her jog out of the park. Taking a deep breath, he returned his attention to the tree and the rustling leafs. He took Peter's hand and the couple stepped closer to the tree. Slowly. The rustling moved, like the creature in the tree was making their way toward the tree's trunk. Was that a good sign or a bad sign?

"Stiles," Peter called up gently. "Please come down from the tree."

Growling. Peter and Chris exchanged a concerned look. With a sigh did Peter let go of Chris' hand and flexed his claws, before digging them into the tree trunk to climb up onto the tree. The image of Peter, climbing a tree, would have made him laugh so hard if it wasn't such a serious situation.

"You lot, get more alert. We can't let him run off," Chris warned.

The betas all stood and listened closely, ready to grab Stiles if he tried to run past them. Peter reached the branches and disappeared in the green. Something bolted out of the tree and landed on the ground. A cat, a bit larger than a normal house-cat, or at least larger than the house-cats Chris was familiar with. Long, dark-brown fur and the same honey-whiskey eyes that Chris could drown himself in. The cat looked tense, hissing at Cora when she made a move toward him. Chris motioned for her to step back again and she obeyed. Slowly, Chris crouched down on the ground, to not look as intimidating for the scared cat.

"Stiles," Chris spoke as softly as he could. "We're your pack. We won't hurt you."

"We would never hurt you, sweetheart, if you were human, you would know that."

Peter sounded actually pained as he jumped down the tree. Of course he was. His mate was cursed and frightened and they didn't know how to help him. Stiles seemed to tense, head turning wildly, looking for an escape but the betas were slowly inching closer to close rank. Make sure the kitten couldn't escape. The last they needed was for them to have to hunt down Stiles. After a moment of consideration, the cat dashed straight at Chris and jumped onto him. Not braced for the impact, Chris fell backward. The pack panicked, thinking Stiles was attacking him, but the cat simply burrowed into Chris' jacket and curled together on his chest.

"Hey there," Chris chuckled, pushing his jacket enough aside to look at him. "You good?"

Stiles looked up at him with those eyes and meowed before burrowing himself even deeper in the jacket. The betas stared at them in surprise. Peter furrowed his brows, carefully approaching.

"Is he unharmed?" Peter asked concerned.

Carefully, Chris grabbed the cat and pulled him out of his jacket, under loud protests. He put Stiles down in his lap and patted him down, to feel for any bleeding or broken bones or a pained reaction from the cat. Stiles simply grumbled and let it happen. The grumpy face looked cute on him.

"Not hurt, far as I can tell," Chris stated. "Good kitten."

He patted Stiles' head in praise for his good behavior. It was meant half teasing, as a joke. But the cat started purring loudly and pushed up into his hand, immediately rolling onto his side. His front paws folded against his chest and his very fluffy looking belly was up.

"That's so unfair," Erica groaned. "He looks so soft, I want to pet him, why did you scratch me but not Chris, huh, Batman? I thought I was your best not-Scott-friend!"

"Hey," Jackson glared at her. "I'm his best not-Scott-friend."

Closing his eyes, Chris shook his head and, after an insistent meowing, dropped his hand onto Stiles' belly to pet the incredibly soft fur. Stiles' purring increased and he started pawing the air. Oh damn, their little Spark was adorable as a kitten.

"Peter is never letting you live this down, Stiles," Chris informed the cat.

"Not just Peter," Cora offered, taking her phone and taking pictures. "Smile, Chris. I'm sending this one to Scott and Allison to let them know that he's fine."

Rolling his eyes, Chris looked up with a small smile when she took another picture. Peter was sitting down next to Chris, watching Stiles carefully, his fingers flexing. He wanted to try and pet their kitten too. Chris couldn't keep the smirk from his face.

"Go on, give it a try," Chris challenged.

Peter narrowed his eyes at his mate and reached out for Stiles, fully bracing himself to be scratched up the way the other wolves had been. Paws wrapped around his wrist, causing Peter to freeze. The betas were also holding their breath, waiting for Stiles' reaction. Stiles leaned up to sniff his hand, brushing his cheek against Peter's knuckles – scent-marking Peter – before licking his fingers.

"I'm going to guess that, even though he forgot that he's human, he still instinctively knows you're our Alphas," Derek supplied after a moment. "We scare him, because we're big, strong, predators. But your authority, maybe it still comes through."

Chris hummed and nodded. That made as much sense as anything. Carefully, he lifted Stiles up and held him against his chest so he could get up. As docile as Stiles was right now, Chris would prefer to get out of the park and somewhere where they could close doors and windows and make sure their Emissary couldn't run away and get lost somewhere.

"How did you not last twenty-four hours of us being gone," Peter heaved a sigh. "We will take Stiles to Deaton, to have him checked and see if the druid has any ideas what to do. You lot, call Lydia. Research who this witch is and what she wanted."

"Her and Stiles had already done a lot of the research when we confronted the witch," Jackson offered. "I'll call her to bring everything over. Do you want us to meet with her pack?"

"Scott is going to be pacing until this is solved anyway, Stiles is his best friend," Chris looked at the kitten. "Pool resources. Meet with them, work together. We'll give Derek a call after the visit."

Derek nodded sharply and the betas headed to the parking lot. Peter reached a hand out to scratch Stiles behind one triangular ear, increasing that already very loud purring. Stiles bumped his head against Peter's hand and the Alpha looked so happy that Stiles took to him too.

"This is… a disaster," Chris grunted, adjusting the kitten in his arm.

/break\

Stiles was heartbreakingly adorable. Peter was laying on the ground, cuddling the very demanding kitten. Whenever Peter and Chris were busy with something else – mostly, trying to figure out how to turn him back human – the kitten would meow and whine loudly and push himself into the line of sight of at least one of them, or climbing into their laps.

"If this wasn't a curse and if I wasn't worried about his mental state and mind, I would be enjoying this affectionate kitten so much more," Peter sighed.

They'd gone to Deaton, gotten a cat carrier for Stiles and the diagnosis that he was cursed. Great work. Though at least the druid could say that the wounds inflicted by Stiles didn't heal due to his magic, it was a natural defense that must have kicked in with the new, more vulnerable state he found himself in. The scratches were most likely going to heal normal once Stiles was back to human. Scott and Derek had already worked on a plan for a grit-search (with the sheriff's help, who had more expertise on search missions and who was out of his mind with worry for his son). Both packs teamed up and split into smaller groups to search for the witch.

Before being turned into a cat, Stiles had worked on protection potions. He'd just been hit by the witch before they were finished because they'd needed three more hours of brewing. So now, everyone was properly protected as they went to search for the witch.

"He's very cute," Chris agreed with a small smile, scratching Stiles' chin. "Now put him in the cat-carrier so we can head out and help search for the witch."

"I don't like putting him in the box," Peter whined, glaring at his lover. "We shouldn't lock our mate up. That goes against my instincts, Chris."

"Yes, but you know how much he freaked out with the betas present. Chances of him running off are too high, I don't want to have to hunt him down," Chris sighed. "Right, kitten?"

/break\

Peter gained a new level of respect for Scott, he'd never seen the other Alpha this angry before. An attack on Stiles, he took personal. It made Peter feel a little relieved, because part of him had never stopped feeling guilty for Stiles joining the Hale Pack over the McCall Pack, knowing of the deep bond the two boys shared and thinking the other Alpha may hold resentments about it. But being in different packs couldn't weaken their friendship either.

The packs captured the witch, enabling her magic and imprisoning her until she finally gave them what they needed to break the curse. Sadly, it wasn't a quick and easy solution. They needed to gather ingredients, some incredibly rare. Peter had to reach out to old contacts, to have them delivered as fast as possible and even that would take about a week. And then they'd still need to brew the potion to break the curse, which would be a two days long process too.

"We are absolutely redoing this anniversary get-away," Peter announced frustrated.

He was laying on the couch, Stiles spread over his chest and enjoying a belly-rub. Stiles really loved those the most. Allison laughed softly where she was sitting with her dad, playing chess. It was funny, Stiles was the one who had taught her to play that game, Stiles was also Chris' usual chess-partner, he'd be over at Chris and Peter's once a week just to play chess with Chris. Now that he was a cute little kitten, Allison had decided to fill in for him.

"You don't look like you're having a bad time," she pointed out teasingly.

He glared at his practically step-daughter. "Don't get me wrong, the kitten's very soft and cuddly, but there were… other… things I wanted to do with your father."

Allison's laughter died and she made a face. "Gross."

Chris heaved a sigh and shook his head. "I promise, we're going to redo the trip, as soon as Stiles is human again and we know that he will be fine, babe."

The hum from Peter was not just acknowledgment, it was also frustration. The longer this went on, the more worried he got about Stiles' mental state once they'd get him back. He pulled the kitten closer to his face, burying his nose in the soft fur.

/break\

Chris kept watching Stiles warily. They'd broken the curse, after ten days, they got Stiles back, and Stiles was behaving… too normal. He kept smiling and laughing and accepting all of the hugs, scent-marking and cuddling that both packs demanded, as reassurance that he was really back.

Derek and Isaac had gone upstairs to their respective bedrooms, the rest of the two packs had all left, Scott had agreed to drop Allison off at the Argents' apartment (that Chris mostly still kept because it was making pack alliances stranger if Allison were to live in the Hale House, but the kids were all less than a year from graduation and once she'd move out, he would sell the place to permanently move into the Hale House, with his pack).

"Ready to tell us how you really feel, doll?" Chris asked, voice rough.

Stiles was the only one who'd lingered behind, everyone else had left. Peter was leaning against the armchair Chris was sitting on, his arms crossed as he also tensely watched their mate. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. Stiles never liked to broadcast his trauma and pain, he swallowed it to instead be there for others. Neither Chris nor Peter wanted to let that happen ever again.

"I'm feeling fine," Stiles tilted his head, blinking at them.

"Stiles," Peter growled a little. "Don't make me say it."

"Listen, guys," Stiles shrugged. "If you want something, you will have to say it, because I genuinely have no clue what you want from me here. I stuck around because I could feel your eyes boring holes in me the entire evening so I figured you wanted to talk alone."

"Someone took your mind, you lost control of your body, you lost time," Peter pointed out.

Stiles froze at that, staring at him in surprise. That was it. He was going to admit how he really felt now, Chris could see him crack and braced himself to comfort their boy. And then Stiles smiled.

"You… You thought this thing would trigger me, because of the Nogitsune," Stiles whispered, still smiling warmly. "That's… considerate of you. But this, whatever it was, was different."

Peter shook his head. "I'll need more from you."

The smile died down and Stiles' face closed off more. "The Nogitsune was a foreign presence in my mind and it taunted me about what it did with my body, it made me watch how it… how it nearly killed Allison. It spoke to me and mocked me about the control it had."

It was rare to get him talking about the Nogitsune, mostly he would just force a smile, shrug and claim that he was fine. Chris held his breath as he listened closely. He could feel Peter's hand on his shoulder, knowing the wolf was grounding himself with Chris to keep from going over there and scooping Stiles up into his arms to never let him go again.

"This wasn't… like that," Stiles frowned at them, like he was struggling to articulate it. "Think of it more as being stuck in your wolf-form, Peter. Sure, I'm not a shifter by nature, but the curse was meant for a shifter, so when it hit me instead, it… it connected me with an animal-representation, basically with what I would be if I did accept the bite. It was me, but the change was disorienting and I kind of… tapped out of my humanity, for the most part."

"Of course the mischievous, fierce little Spark would be a volatile cat," Peter huffed. "But that still sounds just as triggering to me, Stiles."

"It wasn't," Stiles sighed and shrugged. "It was… warm. Relaxing. Liberating. It didn't feel like I was forced out of control, it felt more like… taking a vacation from being in control? I don't know how else to explain it, Peter, I need you to just believe me that I'm fine."

He made eye-contact with the Alpha, silently pleading with him to believe. Peter sighed and visibly relaxed, apparently pleased with that answer. He approached Stiles, brushing a hand over Stiles' cheek and down his neck, scent-marking their Emissary. Stiles closed his eyes and leaned into the touch and, much to their surprise, started purring.

"What the fuck," Stiles blinked startled, backing off. "Did I just-"

"Purr like a kitten?" Peter offered a bemused smirk. "You did."

"Okay," Stiles rubbed his hands over his face. "Guess I'm going back to Deaton's. Tomorrow."

"Text us what he says," Chris requested, frowning concerned. "And, Stiles? It's good that you're feeling good about it right now, but if that changes, call us."

Stiles looked up at him and nodded slowly. "Yeah. Sure. Anyway, I should get going. Night."

/break\

"You have a kitten sleeping on your chest, darling."

Chris grunted at just how sweet and delighted Peter sounded. So the weight on his chest was not Peter having decided to sprawl out over him, then. Cracking an eye open, Chris found Stiles curled together on his chest, purring softly. Mh. Blinking, Chris turned toward Peter.

"Broke into our bedroom at about three last night, through the window, which I will tease him about considering how much he complains about us wolves doing that," Peter smirked.

"He… broke into our bedroom… and just… went to sleep?"

"Yeah," Peter chuckled fondly. "He went straight for our bed, crawled under the blanket and was out like a candle in moments, I didn't even have the chance to ask him what he wanted."

"Shut u—up," Stiles groaned, wrapping his arms around his head. "Too early too loud."

"Sweetheart, you are cranky without a morning coffee."

Chris grunted his agreement. He tentatively laid one arm around Stiles' waist, reaching the fingers of his other hand out to card through Stiles' hair. He was rewarded by a loud, pleased purr.

"Wanna tell us why you're in our bed, doll?" Chris asked softly.

The teen in his arms froze at that, breath hitching. His eyes were wide when he actually bolted out of the bed. He looked mortified and surprised. Both Chris and Peter sat up slowly.

"Stiles?" Peter asked, voice careful. "It's okay. You were purring yesterday evening already. I'm assuming you have some… cat-instincts left over from the curse."

"Yeah, how does that explain waking up in your bed?"

"That's… where you've been sleeping for the past ten days," Chris offered. "Most of the time, curled together on my chest. You seemed to really enjoy listening to my heart-beat."

Stiles stared at them, confused and stunned. "Okay so you said I stayed at your place, but you forgot to mention that I slept in your bed, what the fuck, guys."

"You were a cute lil kitten," Peter shrugged. "You also curled together on Chris' lap during movie nights and sat on my lap during dinner, trying to steal my meat and fish."

A hiss came from Stiles, followed by an embarrassed squeak. "No. Nope. I can. Absolutely. Not deal with any of this. I'm just going to—How did I get here?"

"I think by foot," Peter suggested, pointing at Stiles' mud-covered shoes by the window. "How about you go and take a calming shower for now, then we eat breakfast and then I'll drive you to Deaton's myself, sweetheart? But we are not letting you leave like that."

The look in Stiles' eyes was wild and his breathing was picking up. Getting up, Chris walked over to Stiles, slow and careful so not to startled him. He noticed the way Stiles was counting his fingers.

"It's alright, doll," Chris spoke in a gentle voice. "This is real, you're awake, you're safe."

"Y… Yeah," Stiles nodded sharply, but he looked completely haunted when he looked at Chris. "This? This does scare me. I can't lose time again. I'm human, I should be in control. I can't-"

"We'll figure it out, Stiles," Chris' voice got firmer. "We'll figure it out together, okay."

He opened his arms in invitation, leaving it up to Stiles whether or not he wanted a hug. The boy threw himself at Chris and buried his face in the man's chest, gasping for breath. Peter approached them from the other side, carefully laying his arms around Stiles too.

"It's going to be okay, Stiles," Peter promised.

/break\

"So, this will actually help?" Erica asked with a frown.

Stiles shook the vile in his hand before downing it. "Should get rid of any curse-residue."

"But why did you break into the house?" Isaac wanted to know. "I mean, you could not get away from us fast enough, as a cat. You were scratching us up when we tried to get close."

"Yeah, it's still weird that you let Peter and Chris close at all," Jackson agreed.

"Like Derek said," Peter interrupted with a frown. "It's most likely due to him recognizing us as his Alphas, even in his altered state. And that's also why he came to us. He's been staying with us this entire time as a cat, if he still had the instincts… he followed them."

Peter was wrapped up with the betas, but Chris noticed the way Stiles scoffed at Peter's words. What a strange reaction. He narrowed his eyes, making a note to confront their boy. Later. They planned on driving him back home after the pack meeting anyway.

"It's getting late, kids," Chris announced once the conversation lulled a little. "Everyone, get back home. Stiles, we're driving you home. Peter's staying at my place tonight."

Chris and Peter altered every night where they slept, between the Hale House and the Argents' place, because he didn't want to leave Allison alone but Peter didn't want to leave his betas alone either. Under mild protests did the betas leave and pile into their respective cars. Chris got behind the wheel of his SUV, watching Peter and Stiles get in the back.

"Why did you scoff?" Chris asked with sharp eyes. "When Peter said to the betas that you reacted to us because we're your Alphas. We are your Alphas, Stiles."

Peter tilted his head curiously, not having caught that. Stiles snorted and crossed his arms.

"Sure you are, but you really think the bond to the pack Alphas would be strong enough for this? I'm Pack Mom and I didn't recognize my own pups," Stiles' eyes were sharp and angry (and Chris could see the thrill on Peter's face, as always when Stiles recognized his role in the pack). "These bonds? These instincts? They're designed by nature to be even stronger than a pack-bond to the Alpha. That's not why I recognized you and it's honestly such a weak lie. You could have at least come up with something a little better, if you don't want the pups to know."

"...Don't want the pups to know what, Stiles?" Peter looked genuinely confused. "Do you know why you recognized us but not the rest of the pack?"

Stiles threw a peculiar look at them – somewhere between baffled and hurt. "Are you serious right now? You really… You're really going to make me say it? Our mate-bonds are what kept me anchored to my humanity, quite literally since they are my anchors."

Both Peter and Chris froze, staring at Stiles in shocked silence. He knew? They'd meant to tell him when he turned eighteen, to then properly court him. How did he know? How long had he known? Stiles just sat there, glaring, his arms crossed over his midsection in a self-protecting manner. Protecting himself from them, Chris realized with a mortified start.

"You can just let me out here, I'll walk the rest of the way home," Stiles muttered.

"No," Chris grunted, glaring at the wheel. "We're going to talk about this."

"Fuck you," Stiles huffed out a laugh. "Nah. I'm not doing this. I'm perfectly fine with this thing we have going on where we just don't talk about the mate-bonds, because you two don't want me. I absolutely do not need to hear you now 'let me down gently' or whatever. I'd rather jump out of the still driving car and take my chance on that, Christopher."

"Don't want you," Peter echoed baffled. "That's not-"

Stiles growled at him, low and in warning. And the bizarre nature of a non-wolf growling at a wolf in warning would have been funny under different circumstances. Stiles looked like a cornered animal right now and it didn't sit right with Chris that they were the cause of that.

"Peter," Stiles forced the name out. "I mean it, I don't need or want that spiel. We've known each other for nearly two years now. You've known we're mates for nearly two years now. And I came to terms with the fact that you don't want me a year ago. When you two got together. Because clearly you had no problem telling Chris that he is your mate. So, I'm fine."

Only that he didn't look fine. He looked hurt and bitter and angry. Chris would park the car so he could properly look at Stiles to talk to him but he feared that Stiles would just run off then.

"H… How long have you known?" Peter asked, voice soft and afraid. "And how?"

"I'm magic, Peter," Stiles heaved a tired sigh and closed his eyes. "I'm not human. I can feel the mate-bonds, just like you can. Well, at least ever since my Spark first ignited. So. I've been able to feel it since you came back to life. And at first, I got it. I mean, I… killed you. And it was kind of awkward, for a while. But then you let me stay in the pack, even after you became Alpha again. And you chose me to be your Emissary. And I don't..."

"It's my fault he hasn't told you," Chris spoke up, interrupting Stiles. "When Peter and I… worked our shit out, he told me, that we had a third, and that it's you. And I told him that we could absolutely not put that kind of pressure or expectation on you, because you were just a kid. You are seventeen, Stiles. You are twenty five years younger than me. And your father is the sheriff."

Stiles paused, warily, cracking one eye open to stare at Chris through the rear-view mirror. "So it's the age-gap that bothers you, then? Because I've really been rotating what about me-"

"No," Chris growled, shaking his head. "Not bother – well, I'm not thrilled about the fact that you're the same age as both our daughters – but it's not… It's not about bothering us, it's about you, Stiles. You're young, you had… choices. You deserved a normal high school romance. You didn't deserve the burden of being tied to two very messed up middle-aged men."

"I didn't tell you before because… quite frankly, I didn't know how," Peter added on with a heavy sigh. "You did help kill me, which… made me think you weren't too fond of me. And I was… still working through a lot of… things, after my resurrection. I needed to focus on me. But when I told Christopher, I did have every intention of telling you too. And I don't mean to place blame on Christopher here, I did agree when he said to wait. I… thought he was right. You deserved what little normalcy you could have, for as long as you could. Telling you when you turned eighteen, when you graduate high school, to let you make your own decision…"

"Are… you serious?" Stiles was staring from one of them to the other, baffled. "You thought… Are you… stupid? I was the boy who ran with wolves even before I learned I had magic! My life hasn't known any normalcy since I walked into the woods to go looking for a dead body – and, quite frankly, the fact that that's what Scotty and I thought was a good time on a Friday night should clue you in on the fact that there hadn't been too much normal even before the bite. And have you ever known me to do something I didn't want to? Knowing you're my mates wouldn't have made me feel compelled to do anything I didn't want to, Christ."

Stiles rubbed his face in agitation. "And my dad. My dad is seven years older than my mom. She was seventeen when they first met. He's gonna glare at you, a lot, but that's all he would do, because he knows it'd be a hypocrite thing to do. Fuck you."

"What… can we do to fix this, Stiles?" Peter asked desperately.

"Why do you want to…" Stiles sighed, so tired. "I'm fine with how things are."

"But we aren't," Chris' voice was firm. "You age was – is – the only reason we didn't tell you. And nothing will happen until you are eighteen. But how things are isn't how we want them to stay. The plan was to tell you when you turn eighteen, and then to court you, properly, until graduation. So you could decide, once you graduate, whether you want to seal the bond or not."

"So you are idiots, mh," Stiles frowned at them and shook his head. "I'm so tired. Okay. Fine whatever. I have a hard time believing that, but if you want to 'fix' this, or show me that you actually mean it, then… Start courting me! I'm turning eighteen in three months. Start courting me now. Show me that you actually want me and aren't just saying shit now out of pity."

He spat the words, looking angry. Vulnerable. He was afraid to get hurt.

"We will, sweetheart," Peter spoke with conviction and determination.

/break\

So Chris and Peter didn't not want him, as he had assumed for the past year. They were just considerate idiots, who thought Stiles would be 'better off' not knowing. Get some high school romance, not get weird looks for having middle aged men court him. Absolute idiots.

But at least they were aware of how much their idiocy had hurt him, because damn did they put effort into courting him. From fancy dinners to expensive presents, clothes, getting his Jeep fixed – and fully fixed, every single problem Roscoe had, which in total cost more than a new car would have. A lot of the gifts were magical ingredients or objects that Stiles had wanted but couldn't afford and knew were only of personal interest so he never put them on his 'Emissary shopping list' (a thing that actually existed and that he regularly handed to Peter to get whatever he needed).

Stiles hummed curiously as he walked through the hall toward the living room. He could hear Peter in the kitchen, preparing lunch for them. Chris was in the living room though, a book in his lap as he was reading. There was a large window front with a brilliant view over the forest, all the way down to Silver Lake. Once in the living room, Stiles walked over to Chris and nudged the man's arm until he moved the book out of the way. Pleased, Stiles climbed into his lap.

"Hello, kitten," Chris chuckled, resting his head on Stiles' head. "Done exploring?"

The stupid nickname had stuck, even after the cat-behavior mostly stopped. Mostly, on account of him being much more tactile ever since. He'd always enjoyed physical touch, but he wasn't good at asking for it. Now though, he just climbed into people's laps if he felt like it, or sprawled out on them. The pack absolutely loved it, since wolves were tactile by nature.

"The cabin's nice," Stiles replied after a moment.

The cabin where Chris and Peter had meant to celebrate their one year anniversary five months ago. Now, the three of them had rented it to celebrate Stiles' graduation together. And, after five months of them being really very sorry and very considerate, Stiles felt reassured in his place with them. He really did believe that their words all these months ago hadn't been pity.

"Lunch is ready, would you go and get our kitten, Christopher?" Peter called out.

"I already got our kitten," Chris replied smugly.

Peter walked into the living room, carrying three plates of very delicious smelling pasta. His eyes flashed red when he found his mates curled together like that on the couch. Stiles tilted his head, reaching out for the Alpha, and the food. Each of them was handed a plate and Peter sat down next to Chris. The hunter nudged Stiles gently, but the Spark opted to ignore him.

"Doll, I can't really eat when you're in my lap," Chris frowned.

"Peter, he doesn't want me in his lap," Stiles turned big eyes on Peter. "Did you hear that."

Peter huffed and put his own plate aside. He reached over to grab Stiles by the waist to hoist him up and over into his own lap, happily nuzzling Stiles' neck and glaring at Chris.

"Your priorities are horrible, Christopher," Peter chided.

"Yes," Stiles offered a smug grin and leaned back against Peter. "Horrible, Christopher."

Chris heaved a sigh and picked up his plate. "Sure, but if I had ignored Peter's cooking, then I would have gotten the exact same spiel, wouldn't I. I can only lose with you two brats."

Even without looking at Peter's face, Stiles knew his wolf's smile matched Stiles'. He started eating, humming contently at the taste. Peter really was a great cook. After two forks, he lifted one up to Peter, not wanting the wolf to go without lunch, after all.

"Hah," Peter smirked victoriously. "See, I get the pretty kitty on my lap and I get hand-fed."

His arms wrapped around Stiles' waist as though he wanted to make sure that Chris couldn't steal Stiles back. A soft snort and shake of his head was all he got from Stiles for it. Possessive wolf.

"Don't spoil him too much," Chris warned. "You know he gets unbearable if he's spoiled."

"How dare you," Peter glared. "Our kitten deserves-"

"Peter, he's talking about you," Stiles chuckled, kissing Peter's jawline. " But we love you anyway."

~*~ The End ~*~

Author's note: Once again, a story ran away from me. Show of hands who is surprised by this... But! Yeah! I really wanted kitten!Stiles ;D