Guns and Gags Chapter 2: The Plan, a teen wolf fanfic

Teen Wolf || Stetopher || Teen Wolf || Guns and Gags || Teen Wolf || Stetopher || Teen Wolf

Title: Guns and Gags – The Wolf, the Hunter and their Bambi

Tags: m/m/m, polyamory, AU, Spark Stiles, magic, mutual pining, explicit intercourse, anal, oral, knotting, BDSM, bondage, gags, kneeling, sex toys, collars, spanking, size queen Stiles

Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles

Side Pairings: Scott/Allison, Jackson/Lydia, Boyd/Erica

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Chris Argent, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd III, Isaac Lahey

Summary: Peter owns a sex shop, Chris owns a gun shop and they're located right next to each other. They're also happily married and looking for a cute sub to add to their relationship. Stiles is a deputy who regularly comes into Chris' shop and Chris knows he's perfect for them – but Peter is also convinced that one of his customers, whom he only calls Bambi, would be perfect for them.

Guns and Gags

The Wolf, the Hunter and their Bambi

Chapter 2: The Plan

Stiles moaned hoarsely, leaning his head back as he worked the large dildo deeper into himself. Holy shit if he had known dildos that size were just behind the backdoor, he would have confronted Peter about his werewolf nature months ago. And here he had been making due with sad, human-dick-sized dildos so far. He'd been missing out!

A small whimper escaped him when he felt the knot at his rim. His eyelids fluttered shut as he allowed himself to drift into fantasy land. Red eyes flashed before his inner mind, that taunting grin on Peter's face as he leaned over, kissing Stiles. What would his beard feel like against Stiles' skin as they kissed? What was Peter like in bed? Would he be slow and tender, or hard and rough? Stiles couldn't decide which one he would want more. Both, probably.

And wasn't that the story of his life? A strangled groan as he imagined calloused fingers wrapping around his cock, jerking him off instead of Stiles doing it himself. A different beard, more rough and less trimmed than Peter's, rubbing against his throat as Chris jerked him off.

This was his fantasy so he got to get both of the hot DILFs, even if he didn't stand a chance with either of them. Well, with Chris even less than with Peter, because Stiles knew that Ally's dad was a married man and homewrecking was a huge no-no for Stiles. Still, his mind was a free place and he could get fucked six ways to Sunday by Chris Argent in it.

With a cry did Stiles come into his hand once he forced the knot into himself. He collapsed on the bed, leaving the dildo inside of himself, loving the feeling of being full. With his eyes still closed, he imagined Peter wrapping his arms around him, pulling him against the Alpha's chest to wait out the werewolf's knot. Stiles swallowed hard, squinting away the tears.

He hated when he got emotional after an orgasm, but it was kind of hard not to feel pathetic when he was alone in his crappy little apartment, fantasizing about two men who were so far out of his league they were playing a whole different sport, fantasizing about being held. That was the pathetic part. The sex was one thing, people fantasized about sex. But this? This was just sad.

Heaving a depressed sigh, he tilted his head back to look up at the shelf above his bed. A black fox mask laid on it. Lydia had forced him to buy it years ago, even though he could have bought something cheaper since he had only needed it for one night, but Lydia had looked at him with judgment and declared that no, she was not taking him to her regular BDSM club looking cheap. So he'd wasted his money on an admittedly pretty but expensive mask that he wore one night. And he hadn't even found anyone to take him home that night. The only two doms who seemed interested in him had been so wrapped up in each other and fighting over him like he was some prize that he'd lost interest and instead trailed after Lydia and Jackson to annoy them.

But maybe he should go back to the club. Maybe finding a dom again who could take him down would at least ease the loneliness. Make him feel a little grounded. He frowned as he rubbed his fingers together, little sparks flying between them. If he didn't get tired out – physically and mentally – then his magic still became a bit of a problem. And he couldn't afford that.

Groaning, he rolled over. He couldn't hook up with a stranger. He never could, that just wasn't him, that was maybe why he had gone out of the club alone all those years ago and hadn't dared go back again. He grumbled softly and hugged his pillow. Maybe he could try his luck with Peter? Sure, the wolf was out of his league – even more so now that Stiles knew he was an Alpha – but hey, at least he wasn't married, as far as Stiles could tell. He'd never seen a ring on Peter's finger.

He picked up his phone. "He—ey, best friend who is not going to humiliate me or make fun of me if I ask her to do something with me that might end up potentially humiliating for me."

"Other people just call me Allison, which is so much shorter. What do you need, Stiles?"

He grinned broadly. Damn, he loved that girl something fierce. Leave it up to Scotty to get the most amazing girlfriend on the planet. He tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear.

"Okay so, I have made a decision," Stiles declared gravely. "I will… try to seduce the werewolf I told you about that I may have an eye on…"

"Finally!" Allison yelped on the other end of the line. "I swear, your sad little sighs were getting incredibly depressing. Danny is depressed by them. You depressed Danny."

Stiles flipped her off, even if she couldn't see it. "Yeah, well, I depressed myself. Enough to say fuck it, I'll give it a try. Worst that happens is that he rejects me and I will require you, Kira and Lydia to eat all of the ice-cream with me. Not Malia, because it's weird with the ex."

"Okay," Allison laughed a little. "So, what's the plan?"

"I want to buy something first, and then I am going to seduce him," Stiles grinned like a shark. "I'll pick you up in… an hour. I need a shower first. Pretty up."

"And I'm coming with you as moral support?"

"Also to pick up the pieces after the rejection. You will drive me to the nearest bar and pay for the first round of drinks and then tell me that I'm pretty and will find someone else."

"Of course I will, Stiles," Allison spoke softly and he could hear her smile. "See you in an hour."

The plan was simple. He was going to buy that final, huge dildo, the glorious one that Peter had shown him on the first day he'd been shown the backroom. And then he was going to look Peter in the eyes and ask him if the Alpha wanted to break the new toy in with him. Risky, but hey, worst that happened was that he got his heart broken and needed to look for a new sex-shop.

/break\

Peter smiled delighted when Bambi came walking in. He wore that infuriating red hoodie again, the one that made Peter want to fuck him while the boy was wearing nothing but that hoodie. His boy was walking backward, talking animatedly and gesturing widely. Peter was far too smitten.

"You are a horrible person, when you said 'buy something', I didn't expect sex toys."

Peter's brows furrowed at the far too familiar voice, but then Bambi was talking. "No, you see, it's all part of the plan! C'mon, don't tell me you're embarrassed about going into a sex-shop, Ally. I know far too much of what you and Scotty are getting into, so I don't buy it."

Bambi was all the way in the store and the owner of that second voice walked in. Allison. Peter stared baffled as he watched Bambi gently shove Allison, Allison laughing and shaking her head fondly. Why was Allison walking in here with Bambi as though she knew Bambi?

"And it's not about going to a sex-shop. It's about the sex-shop you picked. I try not to go here to buy anything," Allison laughed and turned toward him with a smile. "Hey, dad."

"What," Bambi squeaked before Peter had a chance to greet his daughter. "No, no, no. No, Ally. You got the shops mixed up. We walked one store further, we're not in your dad's gun-shop."

"No, we aren't. The vibrators clued me in," Allison huffed, rolling her eyes. "We're in my other dad's sex-shop. You know I have two dads. Meet dad number two, Peter Hale."

Bambi's face did a lot of complicated things that were fascinating to watch. Peter blinked, before he returned his attention to Allison, smiling at his daughter. He reached over the counter to scent-mark her and she did it back. Behavior both his hunters had learned over the years.

"Hello, princess," Peter greeted her, his eyes wandering back to Bambi. "What brings you here?"

Mischief shone in Allison's eyes as she leaned in. "Well, Stiles has been pining for a werewolf for a while now and he said he is finally willing to try and seduce the guy. He wants to buy something first, which now that we're standing in here makes me think that he has awful plans."

She craned her neck to grin teasingly at Bambi, who was looking at her with a mix of mortification and confusion. Hold on. Had she just called Bambi Stiles? As in Chris' Stiles?

"Stiles?" Peter repeated slowly, looking between them.

Allison rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh. "Yes, Stiles. My best not Lydia friend, Stiles. You know, son of the sheriff and all that. Scott's best friend. I keep talking about him."

"I know that," Peter glared weakly at his daughter. "I listen to everything you say, princess. I just mean that his name is not Stiles, I've seen his ID before."

"You made him show you his ID?" Allison snorted. "He's my age! He's not that young looking! And of course does his ID not say Stiles. Stiles is a nickname. His last name is Stilinski. Stiles."

Oh. That made sense, if pointed out like that, but it had absolutely never occurred to Peter that Stiles – Chris' Stiles – could be Bambi, even though he'd read the last name Stilinski on the ID. Something warm unfurled in Peter's stomach as he stared intensely at Bambi.

Bambi was Stiles. His Bambi was Chris' Stiles. The two cute twinks they kept fighting about were the same cute twink. The boy who made Chris want to spank him and who fueled Chris' competence kink was the same one training himself to take an Alpha's knot.

"I'm just… going back home to die," Bambi muttered, blinking slowly.

"What?" Allison turned toward her friend in confusion. "You wanted to buy something and you are on a mission. I will not let you back down. You don't need to be embarrassed just because my dad owns the shop. I promise he is highly professional, even if he can be a bit of a bastard."

Bambi was backing off, like he wanted to leave. And Peter was not having any of that. His eyes flashed and he growled lowly, a warning. Like the good little prey he was, Bambi froze. Pleased with that reaction did Peter round the counter and stalk up to Bambi. He grabbed the boy's arm.

"You're coming with me," Peter growled. "Right now."

Alpha voice. No room for arguments. Bambi honest to the goddess whimpered. Put onto this Earth to test Peter and Peter's resistance was quickly crumbling. Allison made a confused noise as she ran up to follow them when Peter practically dragged Bambi out of the shop and over to Chris' shop. This would be faster if he'd just pick their boy up and carry him, but Bambi may object.

/break\

The door to his shop opened, the bell chiming. Chris looked up from the crossword he was doing, smiling when he saw his husband enter. It was rare for Peter to visit him during working hours. He dropped by with lunch when things aligned, but this was an unusual hour for him. The smile slipped from his lips when he saw Peter dragging Stiles into the shop.

Oh no. Worst case scenarios ran through his mind. Peter had finally run into Stiles and he disapproved of Chris' choice. He could see the glow of Peter's Alpha eyes, a hard edge to his face. Possessive, his wolf close to the surface. Chris really hoped that Peter wasn't going to let Stiles suffer for his territorial tendencies when it came to his husband.

"Peter," Chris spoke softly. "Let go of Stiles."

"Bambi," Peter growled out, like it was hard for him to form words right now.

Confusion colored Chris' face. "What?"

Peter let go of Stiles' arm, just to instead grab him by the waist with both hands, pulling the boy in front of himself, pushing him out at Chris like an offering. Very appealing, very confusing.

"Bambi," Peter growled again, with more emphasis. "This is Bambi."

"What," Chris' voice croaked as Peter's words sank in.

Bambi was Peter's little obsession. But this was Stiles. This was Chris' little obsession.

"Chris," Stiles squeaked out. "I have no idea what is happening. I swear, I didn't even know Peter is your husband! I mean, how could I know. You guys don't even hyphenate. And I've never seen Peter wear a wedding band before!"

"Werewolf," Chris offered, mostly on autopilot. "When he shifts, the ring cuts into his skin. Cost us two wedding bands before he started wearing it on a chain under his shirt."

"Oh," Stiles blinked those big, pretty eyes at him. "That actually makes sense."

"Hi, hey, can someone explain to me what's going on here," Allison demanded as she pushed past Peter and Stiles. "We went to dad's shop because Stiles wanted to buy something and then dad got really weird and practically dragged Stiles out of the shop. And now you're looking as spooked and weird as he did. What am I missing here."

Oh, that was not something Chris wanted to explain. He'd been struggling with the fact that he was lusting for, falling for, Allison's friend. But this? How could he even begin to explain it?

"I swear I didn't mean for this to happen, Ally," Stiles blurted out, eyes wide and wild as he stared at his friend. "I didn't mean to try and seduce your dad, I didn't know he was your dad."

Those wide and wild eyes now turned on Chris. "I swear I wasn't trying to seduce your husband, Mister Argent, I didn't know he was your husband please tell your husband not to rip my throat out for flirting with him, I didn't know he was taken, I wouldn't have-"

"Oh my god, no," Allison made a miserable, wretched sound in the back of her throat. "The hot werewolf you keep talking about is Peter? You made me listen to—Oh no. I can never unhear the things you said. I'm going to be sick. I'm just… I'm sorry, Stiles, I will abandon you to your fate, I need to sit down and throw up and maybe eat all the ice-cream in the freezer."

Stiles made a small noise in the back of his throat, squeezing his eyes shut like he hoped that everything would just stop existing if he didn't see them. The shop door opened and closed behind Allison as she fled. Had Allison just said that Stiles had been talking about Peter? No, wait, before that, had Stiles just apologized to him for trying to seduce his husband?

Chris couldn't help it, he snorted out a laugh, rubbing his face with one hand. His Stiles was Peter's Bambi, all these months of fighting over who had found the perfect boy for them and if either of them had backed down just enough to at least meet the other's choice, they could have realized this so much sooner and saved so much time. Stiles could have been theirs.

"Mister Argent," Stiles whined. "Your husband's claws are ruining my favorite jeans and you're laughing and I'm… I'm… This is…"

It wasn't a cute whine or a sexy whine. It was a panicked sound. Chris' attention snapped to the boy, watching the way his breathing went labored and he started shaking a little. He was panicking.

"Stiles," Chris stepped up to them quickly. "Hey, no. None of that. Stay here with us. Focus."

He put some force into that last word and something about his voice snapped Stiles out of it. The boy's attention flew to him, wide eyed but focused. Mh. Beautiful. Chris reached out to gently cup their boy's face, causing Stiles to make a soft noise and lean into the touch.

"Good boy," Chris praised him, voice low and warm.

The most desperate little whimper fell from those tempting lips and the sound went straight to Chris' cock. A dark, pleased growl rumbled in Peter's chest, telling Chris that his husband felt the same way. And Stiles looked absolutely perfect, standing between them like that. Peter's hands were still on his hips, holding their boy in place, keeping him from running away.

"You've been trying to seduce me, mh?" Peter asked, whispering into Stiles' ear.

Stiles' face screwed up and he blushed so hard, it spread down his neck and to the tips of his ears. Chris wanted to get rid of that shirt to see how far down the blush could reach. His fingers itched for it. But he didn't like how uncomfortable Stiles looked and how much it seemed as though panic was creeping back into the boy's face. Reaching out, Chris rested a hand in his neck.

"I need you to stay calm and stay focused," Chris ordered. "I promise you we are not mad at you. Peter is not going to hurt you, Stiles. Neither of us is going to hurt you."

"Claws," Stiles squeaked out.

"Not breaking skin," Peter grumbled with a mild pout. "I have control, Bambi."

"Why is he calling me a baby deer," Stiles groaned confused.

He turned to Chris at that, wanting an answer. Staring at Chris with those big, beautiful brown eyes. Oh. Peter kept talking about his boy's doe-eyes. All Chris saw in them was the beautiful whiskey color, but looking at them like that, Peter had a point.

"You got these big doe-eyes, doll," Chris replied, lost in those eyes. "Bambi. I didn't see it before, but you're right, Peter. He really is the very definition of doe-eyed."

"Thank you, Christopher," Peter purred delighted.

"If Peter lets go of you, will you promise not to run off?" Chris asked. "He can let go of you if you'll be good and stay here, so we can talk about a couple things. Will you be good?"

"Yes, sir," Stiles said before even thinking about it, just to blush. "I mean, Mister Argent."

"No, Bambi, 'sir' sounds very good coming from your lips," Peter whispered teasingly.

And oh, if Chris had known all it took was a firm voice to get these kind of responses from the boy, he would have done so earlier. But seeing as Stiles was Allison's friend, he always spoke with the boy in a kind and softer tone. Well, at least that answered one thing both Chris and Peter hadn't known – whether their chosen boy was a sub or not. Neither had managed to figure that out before, but Stiles' reactions to Chris were very clear giveaways.

"Peter," Chris kept his voice stern and hard. "Stop teasing him. He's already freaking out enough."

"You know your dom voice doesn't faze me," Peter rolled his eyes. "But fine. I don't want our boy uncomfortable for what comes next. Perhaps we could move this somewhere less… public though."

Chris blinked and looked around, realizing they were still in the middle of his store. "Right. I'll just close up, you bring Stiles upstairs to our apartment, love?"

He brushed a kiss against Peter's cheek in passing. They were going to make Stiles theirs.

/break\

Stiles had no idea what was happening, had lost track of that pretty much when him and Allison had walked into Peter's store. Because Peter was Allison's dad. Which meant Peter was Chris' husband. And all of a sudden, he was getting dragged off into the gun-shop to Chris and his brain fully failed.

Was he in trouble? Was Peter mad? Angry? Since Allison had pretty much spelled out that Stiles was stupidly pining for the man? So the Alpha had dragged him before Chris to, what? Mock him? His heart clenched at that thought but he truly didn't understand what was going on.

Allison, the absolute traitor, bailed on him, leaving him alone with the two men he was pining for. They were also her dads, so fair. He would have bailed if she had tried seducing his dad.

For some reason did he get steered out back and upstairs. Stiles knew Chris lived in the apartment above his shop. He just didn't know why he was being brought up there. It would be much easier to kill him and dispose of the body not in their own home? He kept eyeing Peter, not sure what the Alpha was thinking, just knowing that he was feeling like prey whenever he saw the red eyes – and there was a lot of that. Peter's wolf was definitely close to the surface, the claws that graced his hips were a big giveaway too and it only kept Stiles even more tense.

Still, when he was pushed into their apartment, his mind did its usual thing. Checking for exits, for dangers, for weak spots. He mapped the layout of the hall and then the living room he was led to and, compared with the layout of the shop beneath, noted that the living room was going too much to the right, was too big. They'd merged apartments, tore down the wall separating their apartments and doubling the living room in size, because he was currently standing right above the counter in Peter's shop, Stiles knew that. He had acute spacial awareness, he'd taught himself that.

He also noted that their living room – even if those were two living rooms – was larger than his entire apartment. Well, the furniture in here probably cost more than his entire apartment too. Peter's taste, Stiles instinctively knew. Fancy designer stuff just screamed Peter.

The door closed behind Chris as the man followed Peter and Stiles into the living room and suddenly, Stiles' attention slammed back to the matter at hand and how he was now all alone with Peter and Chris, in Peter and Chris' apartment. He also became acutely aware of Peter's hands on his hips again, the way the wolf's fingers dug in and held him in a way that made it far too easy to imagine a whole different scenario where Peter was behind him, holding his hips and oh fuck.

He could feel his magic coursing through his body, reacting to his emotional turmoil. Like jolts of electricity, steadily growing. Instincts were starting to take over as he felt more and more cornered.

"I need you to let go of me now," Stiles ground out, balling his hands into fists.

To his credit did Peter immediately let go of him and the wolf even took a step back. Stiles closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then stuffed his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie to avoid any sparks being noticeable. When he opened his eyes again, they landed on an armchair. Okay. He let himself fall into it, stretching his legs out in front of himself and crossing them at the ankles. His shoulders hunched some, his head hanging low as he concentrated on controlling his magic.

This was exactly why he had left the apartment in the first place, damn it. Because his magic was overflowing. He needed to burn it, needed to exhaust his body. Had hoped that he could seduce Peter and the wolf would just fuck him for the next couple of hours until Stiles' body and mind were so spent that his magic would be used up to regenerate him. Beyond a big fight or attack, this was the best way of getting rid of his excess magic. Well, that plan had failed spectacularly.

"Stiles," Chris spoke in such a soft, concerned voice. "We're not going to hurt you."

His eyes flew open and he stared at the hunter startled. The man was using his 'talking to a cornered animal' voice on him! What the heck. Frowning annoyed, Stiles shook his head and closed his eyes again, his mindset changed with the new priority. His magic. He so had no time to deal with this. With them.

"Bambi, we need you to talk to us," Peter demanded.

His voice had more of an edge, but Stiles appreciated that he wasn't using his Alpha voice on him. Grinding his teeth together, Stiles arched his back and breathed deeply. He could feel the tingling in his fingertips. He frowned in frustration and let himself sink more into the armchair.

"We're not going to hurt you, Stiles," Chris repeated, confused and so damn patient.

"I figured as much when Peter didn't tear out my throat," Stiles offered after a moment. "Still unsure what exactly is going on here, though. Can we just… get whatever this is over with because I actually have something very urgent to take care of."

He was pressing the pads of his fingers so hard against his palms that the joins in his fingers started to hurt. Pain was grounding. He was absolutely not accidentally performing magic in front of the two hot guys he'd been pining for, especially not now that he knew they were married. Getting let down gently was already embarrassing enough, even if the guys weren't his best friend's dads, but if he also accidentally sparked? He'd look like an inexperienced child who couldn't control his magic.

"Stiles?" Chris' voice was still so soft, too soft. "I know you can be in your head a lot, and I think you are currently in there, alone. We need you to get out of there and join us."

Stiles couldn't help the bitter laugh. Getting out of his head had been the whole point of today, hadn't it. Giving in to how much he wanted Peter, hoping that Peter could get him out of his head. It had been a stupid idea anyway. He couldn't – shouldn't – put that much power into anyone's hands. That much responsibility. Look where it got him last time with Theo. He choked on air. Bad thoughts. No. He could do this on his own. He'd always taken care of himself, since his mom died, he could continue doing it. In this case, that just meant more masturbating. He hadn't played chess with Lydia in a while – not since the Nogitsune – more bad thoughts. Maybe Lydia would platonically dom him again? Jackson hadn't minded last time and it had helped, for a while.

"Stiles," finally the soft edge was gone from Chris' voice, firm and demanding his attention.

Stiles' eyes snapped over to him and he felt something in him unfurl. So easy. It was so easy to just give in, let someone else take the lead, take control. His jaw squared, since his last thoughts had been with the Nogitsune and Theo and no not like that. Control that was willingly given, not forcibly taken. Stiles pulled his hands out of his hoodie, seeing how much they were shaking before he rubbed his face and breathed deeply. Why was he such a fucking mess.

"Sorry," he whispered into his hands. "I'm not… I didn't… I just… This isn't…"

"Something is clearly wrong," Peter sounded worried. "There's things we need to talk about, but whatever is going on with you right now is more important. Tell us how we can help you."

Stiles just shook his head. "I just… It's not your problem. Don't worry about it."

"Maybe we want it to be our problem, doll," Chris whispered.

He cupped Stiles' cheek, tilting his head to look up at the two men in front of himself and no. No, Chris couldn't just say stuff like that. Stiles' face screwed up as he leaned back, out of his grip.

"Look," Stiles ground his teeth together. "I get it, I'm Ally's best friend, you feel responsible. You don't have to. I'm not your responsibility. Let's just… get this over with so I can go home and discharge. I'm sorry I was trying to seduce your husband, I didn't know he was your husband. I promise it won't happen again, I'm not a homewrecker – not that I think Peter would cheat on you."

"Stiles," Chris chuckled lightly. "I'm not mad. As I keep saying, we are not mad at you."

"Then why am I here. Because I seriously need to go, I really can not be here right now."

He caught a faint spark on his right ring finger and quickly shoved his hands back into his hoodie. Chris and Peter exchanged looks. Many meaningful looks that Stiles wasn't privy to understanding, because those two were married and in love and had their whole on language and Stiles wasn't a part of it. The bitter, dark feeling rose in his throat, he could feel his fingers heating up.

"My husband and I have been arguing for months now. We want to add someone to our relationship and we both found who we deemed the perfect partner. We're also both very… very stubborn, so neither of us backed down," Peter started talking casually. "I told him he was wrong, because I found the perfect one, he told me I was wrong. A stalemate."

"Why do I have to hear this," Stiles muttered frustrated, knotting his fingers up.

"Because we both chose you, Stiles," Chris looked at him so softly. "We both chose you without realizing, since Peter didn't know your name. He gave you a nickname, he always just talked about you as 'Bambi'. We didn't know we were both talking about the same gorgeous, brilliant boy."

"Huh?" Stiles blinked up at them doe-eyed. "What."

"We want you, Bambi," Peter smirked at him, wolfish and hungry. "To answer your earlier question, you're here because we want you here. We want you. We want to take care of you. We want to know what's wrong with you right now and how we can help you, too."

Oh this wasn't good. Stiles knew how to hold it together when his thoughts spiraled into one direction, one emotion. Up until now that spiral had went down. Pain, grief, rejection, negative emotions. He knew how to draw a line around that and keep it contained, more or less.

But this? This made a whole different emotion collide with that. The most dangerous and powerful emotion there was. Hope. Stiles gasped out a breath as he felt that hope stoking the flame inside him, turning a spark into an inferno. His eyes widened.

"Get out," Stiles spat. "Get out right now."

They got knocked back onto the ground by a pulse of magic. Stiles stared at them, eyes wide and ablaze with turquoise flames. His skin started glowing softly as the magic leaked out of him. He brought his hands together, pressing the palms of his hands together and trying to at least focus his magic. His eyes looked around wildly before settling on the flowers lining the window sills. Good.

He allowed his pulse of magic to extend to it, to wash over them. Most of them were dead. Sad, brown-leafed things. The air in the room warmed up and the flowers grew, soft green and lush and large. They crawled their way up the curtains, framing the window.

Stiles gasped breathlessly as dark spots danced before his eyes. Great. Just great. He passed out.

Author's note: I have a deeply seated love for really fucking powerful Stiles (who also KNOWS he's powerful) and I love the idea that Stiles' magic can leave him in a physically weakened state if it's drained but can also overflow if he doesn't use it often enough - and that just works so damn perfectly for this fic! So. Next chapter, the aftermath of this little display of power, as well as the much anticipated actual conversation between Chris, Peter and Stiles about what they could be!