A Dash Of Sarcasm, A Sprinkle Of Chaos
Chapter Twelve
Peter Hale, Certified Emotional Support Werewolf
Dragging Peter Hale around New York City wasn't exactly on Stiles' bucket list, but now that it was happening, it wasn't the worst thing in the world.
Sure, Peter was smug, manipulative, and a little too good at slipping creepy undertones into what were probably meant to be compliments, but he was also weirdly… useful. And, more importantly, he never said no to anything Stiles suggested, which made him the perfect reluctant accomplice.
At first, Stiles thought Peter's willingness to follow him everywhere was just a fluke. Maybe Peter was bored, or maybe he was gathering blackmail material for the next time they needed to negotiate with some supernatural big bad. But after two days of Peter trailing him like a six-foot-tall, suit-wearing shadow, Stiles came to a startling realization.
Peter wasn't just following him. He was devoted.
"Do you have to walk so close?" Stiles asked as they strolled down a busy street, dodging tourists and street performers. "You're giving off serious overprotective dad vibes, and I'm not here for it."
"I'm not your dad, Stiles," Peter said smoothly, his voice dripping with amusement. "I'm more like… your guardian angel. A very attractive guardian angel."
"Right," Stiles said, rolling his eyes. "Because that's not creepy at all."
Peter smirked, easily keeping pace with him as they wove through the crowd. "You should be flattered. I don't usually go out of my way to babysit humans."
"Babysit?" Stiles repeated, glaring at him. "I'm not a toddler, Peter. I don't need you holding my hand every time I cross the street."
"True," Peter said, his smirk widening. "But you do have a habit of attracting trouble, and I'd hate for something to happen to you while I wasn't around to stop it."
"That's cute," Stiles said dryly. "You almost sounded sincere for a second there."
"I'm always sincere when it comes to you," Peter said, his tone light but his eyes serious.
Stiles froze mid-step, staring at him. "Okay, you really need to dial it back. You're giving me heartburn."
Peter chuckled, nudging him forward with a hand on his shoulder. "Keep moving, Stiles. You're blocking traffic."
"I'm blocking traffic?" Stiles said, raising an eyebrow as he started walking again. "You're the one who insists on hovering over me like a creepy helicopter parent."
"Helicopter parent?" Peter repeated, his tone amused. "Is that what I am now?"
"If the shoe fits," Stiles muttered.
Peter didn't respond, but the smug look on his face made it clear he wasn't offended.
--
Their next stop was the coffee shop near Stiles' apartment, a place he'd been frequenting ever since his first caffeine-deprived encounter with Tony Stark.
"Let me guess," Peter said as they stepped inside, his sharp eyes scanning the room. "This is where you spilled coffee on the billionaire?"
"Yup," Stiles said, making a beeline for the counter. "One of my finer moments."
Peter followed him, his presence as commanding as ever. Stiles could feel the barista's nervous gaze flick between the two of them, and he sighed.
"Relax," he said to the poor guy behind the counter. "He's not going to eat you. He's just here to ruin my day."
Peter smirked, leaning casually against the counter. "You wound me, Stiles."
"Yeah, yeah," Stiles said, waving him off. "Just let me get my coffee before you start flirting with me again. I need caffeine to deal with you."
The barista blinked, his face a mix of confusion and terror. "Uh, what can I get you?"
"Black coffee," Stiles said. "Large. And make it quick before this guy starts monologuing about how much better he is than everyone else."
Peter chuckled, but didn't deny it.
By the time Stiles had his coffee and was heading for a table, Peter was already holding the door open for him, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
"Thank you, Jeeves," Stiles said, taking a long sip of his coffee as he walked out.
"Anything for you, Stiles," Peter said, his tone almost playful.
"Okay, seriously," Stiles said, spinning around to face him. "What is your deal? You're following me around like some kind of devoted golden retriever, and it's starting to freak me out."
Peter's smirk softened, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. "Maybe I just enjoy your company."
"Uh-huh," Stiles said, narrowing his eyes. "And maybe pigs will fly out of my ass tomorrow."
Peter's lips twitched, like he was holding back a laugh. "You're impossible."
"Yeah, I get that a lot," Stiles said, turning and continuing down the street. "Now come on. We've got one more stop to make."
Peter followed without hesitation, his long stride easily keeping pace with Stiles. "And where are we going this time?"
"Stark Tower," Stiles said.
Peter raised an eyebrow. "You're bringing me to meet your new billionaire best friend?"
"Technically, he's not my best friend," Stiles said. "He's more like… my sarcastic boss-slash-mentor. And I'm not bringing you. You're tagging along because you refuse to leave me alone."
Peter hummed thoughtfully. "Fair enough."
--
By the time they reached Stark Tower, Stiles had half a dozen sarcastic comebacks ready for whatever Tony would inevitably say about him showing up with a random werewolf.
But as they stepped into the lobby and Peter fell into step beside him, Stiles realized something strange.
For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel completely alone.
--