An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Additional Tags: Season 1, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s01e12 Code Breaker, Stiles accepts the bite, POV Alternating, Canon-Typical Violence, Peter is a good Alpha at least, Slow Burn
Summary:
"Yes, but on one condition," Stiles blurts out and it's like he almost surprises himself with his answer, but the pieces slide into place and Stiles knows that this is the right decision. He's going to do the right thing here. And if he plays his cards right, maybe he can help contain the damage like an oil spill.
43 or 47 for stiles, I’m torn between the two so you can pick. Leaning towards 43 though
Why choose one, when you can have them both? My favourite kind on angsty-ness coming up. You have been warned. 43. “I never meant to hurt you.” 47. “I can take care of myself just fine.”
Edited the paragraphing. Easier to read now.
Now on AO3
Stiles wipes the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. He snarls at Peter, “I can take care of myself, just fine.”
Of course, Peter smirks. He holds up his bloody hand, light catching on the blood on his claws making them appear shiny. “Darling, you’d be dead without my help.”
Baring his teeth in reply, Stiles kicks the body of the witch. “Fuck off.” He stares at her feet, instead of her bloody, mangled neck where Peter had torn out her throat.
“Is that all the thanks I get?” Peter’s eyes flash dangerously. “After everything.”
Stiles sucks his tongue over his teeth, then he spits out the blood on the forest floor. He feels his chest tighten, not with anxiety but with regret. “I never meant to hurt you.”
Peter laughs, then, loud and cruel and false. “Oh, sweetheart, yes you did.”
And he’s right. Stiles did mean to hurt Peter.
He’d deliberately gone out and kissed Derek where he knew Peter would see. Stiles had used Derek’s attraction to him, and his jealousy of Peter to manipulate Derek into kissing him, grinding against him and biting at Stiles’ neck. And Stiles… Stiles had looked over Derek’s shoulder into Peter’s face. Stiles had tipped his head, letting Derek mark the skin while Peter watched.
And he’s watching Stiles again now. Those intense blue eyes, that half-formed sneer on his face, lips curled in disgust. Peter shifts his gaze to the body of the witch. “Off you go, darling.” He makes mocking little shooing motions with his hands, “walk away from the mess, it’s what you do best.”
“That’s not fair!” Stiles says, voice hard and fists clenched.
“When have you ever known me to play fair?” Peter raises an eyebrow. “What’s not fair, sweetheart, is fucking my nephew when my bed is still warm.”
“It was weeks ago Peter.” Stiles bites out. “When are you going to let it go?”
Peter gives a cold smirk. “We’re not in a Disney musical, Stiles. I don’t see why I should let it go.”
“For Derek’s sake.” Stiles suggests, even as he starts towards the tree where he left his supplies. He picks up the shovel and harshly slams it into the earth. “He’s drowning in guilt. Again.”
“As he should.” Peter leans against a tree and watches Stiles dig furiously. “It’s at least the fifth time he’s betrayed me.”
“Fucking hell Peter, you kept count.” Stiles leans on the spade, wiping sweat from his forehead with the hem of his t-shirt.
“Of course. There was the time he betrayed my Pack and got them all killed, just to get his dick wet.” Peter holds up a finger, “then there was the time he abandoned me in a hospital to die,” he flicks up another finger. “He tore my throat out, he locked me in Eichen House, and then finally-” Peter meets Stiles’ gaze, a tightening around his eyes and a snarl on his lips as he says “he fucked my boyfriend.”
“I wasn’t your boyfriend.” Stiles says quietly.
Peter raises his eyebrows. “No? Then what do you call going out for meals and coffee, having sex, staying the night, sharing secrets and dreams.” He pushes off the tree and moves closer, he’s every inch the predator.
“We, we were … friends.” Stiles finishes weakly.
“Friends?” Peter stops. There’s something in his face that’s close to devastation. “Do you often have sex with your friends, sweetheart?”
“Well, no.” Stiles admits. “I suppose, we were friends with benefits.” And that sounds even worse. Stiles closes his eyes briefly, silently reprimanding himself for letting Peter affect him so much.
“Is that all I was to you?” And yep, Stiles feels like a right dick. Peter’s voice has lost the arrogance, the teasing and the mockery. He sounds, dare Stiles say it, hurt.
Stiles can’t look him in the eye as he shrugs, almost carelessly, then goes back to digging. Out the corner of his eye he sees Peter’s shoulders slump and his eyes flare blue. In the space of a heartbeat he rights himself, head held high and shoulders back, smirking mask back in place.
“If you no longer need my help, darling, I have something else to be doing.”
“Like what?” Stiles shouts at Peter’s back.
Peter flutters his fingers over his shoulder, “ta-ta, sweetheart. Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll let Derek keep most of his blood.”
“Fucks sake.” Stiles hisses under his breath, he flings the spade to the side and runs forwards, stumbling as he trips over the witch’s feet. “Peter! You leave Derek out of this!”
“But you brought him into this, sweetheart.” Peter doesn’t even glance over his shoulder, just keeps on walking away.
Stiles grabs onto Peter’s arm and yanks him around. Peter still has that stupid smirk on his face, his eyes slightly narrowed as if daring Stiles to comment. “You leave Derek alone. He’s suffered enough.”
“He hasn’t suffered at all.” Peter snarls, fangs poking out over his lips and eyes flash blue, his claws pop out. Stiles has never seen him so close to losing control before. “But he will. I promise you, he will.”
“It’s me you’re angry with Peter. Take it out on me, not on Derek.” Stiles tries to be reasonable, even as he twists his hand even more in the sleeve of Peter’s top. “He did nothing wrong.”
“He did. He knows exactly what he did wrong.”
“I did it!” Stiles shouts. “Me! Peter. It was all me! I used Derek, I kissed him, I’m the one that hurt you.”
“But he knew!” Peter bites out, irate.
Stiles is confused but he shouts back anyway because that’s what he does. “Knew what?”
“That I loved you!” Peter’s breathing hard.
Stiles is stunned. He lets go of Peter’s sleeve and takes half a step back. He didn’t know. How could he have not known. Peter’s shout is ringing in his ears, or maybe it’s the silence that’s deafening him. Stiles blinks.
Peter nods once. As if he expected no response. He turns to leave again. And Stiles doesn’t want him to go but he doesn’t want Peter staying either. “I-” Stiles licks his lips, Peter pauses but doesn’t turn around. “I didn’t sleep with Derek. After you left I went home. Alone.”
Stiles feels a rush of disappointment as Peter doesn’t acknowledge him, he just walks away. Soon enough Stiles is on his own in the Preserve. He’s heart-broken, and it’s his own fault.
He goes back to digging but it’s harder now. The ground is blurry, his eyes sting and he’s struggling to breathe. Stiles can’t remember why he’d done what he did with Derek, he just knew in that moment he’d wanted to hurt Peter. Only he never knew quite how much hurt he’d caused.
With effort Stiles rolls the body of the witch into the shallow grave he’s dug. He haphazardly covers the body with loose dirt before grabbing his backpack. Stiles feels a sense of urgency, he needs to go.
The jeep is where he left it, Stiles throws everything into the back then climbs in, he wipes his hands over his eyes to clear them enough to drive. Looking in the rear view mirror before he reverses Stiles eyes his reflection. His cheeks are wet and dirty, his mouth is still bloody from where the witch got him with a powerful punch, his eyes are red and glassy, his hair a mess and forehead smeared with dirt.
Disgusted with himself Stiles guns the engine and gets the hell out of the Preserve. He drives wildly across town to Derek’s apartment. Derek is sliding the room open as Stiles hurtles himself out the elevator. He looks fine, hopeful and sleep rumpled but absolutely fine.
“You’re okay.” Stiles breathes with relief.
Derek rubs the back of his neck, it stretches his chest out and shows off the bulge of his bicep. “Yeah,” he grins sheepishly, “better now you’re here."
Stiles feels sick. "Derek I’m sorry.”
“Are you alright?” Derek comes forward, concern on his face as he looks over Stiles’ face and his dirty clothes. “What happened?”
“There was a witch,” Stiles says pausing when Derek’s hand comes up to thumb across his lower lip, taking his pain with a touch so gentle that it makes Stiles want to cry. “Peter killed her.”
“Oh.” Derek ducks his head, hiding his smile. “And you fought with him and came here. To me.”
“No.” Stiles feels like he’s just killed a puppy. “Not like that. He was going to hurt you. I wanted to stop him.”
Derek’s face does something complicated. Then his face shuts down. “He didn’t come here.”
“Okay.” Stiles hovers awkwardly wanting to leave but not wanting to hurt Derek anymore.
“You can’t keep doing this Stiles.” Derek says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Pitting Peter and I against each other.”
“I didn’t meant to fall in love with him.” Stiles admits on a whisper. Derek gives him a small, sad smile.
“I knew he loved you. But Peter’s not a nice man, he can’t love someone in a non-possessive, non-obsessive way. I thought I could love you like you deserve but I was wrong.” Derek gives Stiles a hard glare. “Peter is twisted and cruel. And so are you. Go away Stiles.” Derek heads back inside, sliding the door shut with a finality to it that seems to set Stiles free.
He hurries back down the stairs, bypassing the elevator, back into his jeep and speeds towards Peter’s apartment. He takes a deep breath then starts running up the stairs taking two at a time. Stiles pounds on Peter’s door.
It opens under his hand and he grabs hold of Peter’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss. Only it’s more a battle, he uses his teeth to bite at Peter’s lips and tongue, Peter fights back. Hauling Stiles in close, kicking the door shut before slamming Stiles against it hard enough that he lets out a whoosh of air and a grunt.
“Fucking, hell, fuck me Peter.” Stiles digs his nails into Peter’s neck.
“No.” Peter says pulling away, Stiles slumps to the floor at the sudden loss. He stalks across his apartment and Stiles looks to see there are suitcases by the door and boxes of things.
“Don’t go. Peter, please don’t go.” Stiles begs, as he scrambles to his feet.
“I used to care about your opinion once, darling.” Peter doesn’t turn back to look at Stiles. “Not anymore.”
“I think you’re lying.”
“Think what you want.” Peter gives a careless lurch of his shoulders.
Stiles looks around helplessly. The apartment is almost fully packed. “How long have you been getting ready to leave?” Stiles asks, putting his arms around his stomach.
“Weeks.”
“Since…” Stiles trails off. He can put two and two together to make four. Since Stiles betrayed Peter with Derek.
“Quite right.” Peter gives him a smirk over his shoulder. “I was just about to go to bed, you can see yourself out.”
“You didn’t attack Derek.”
Peter freezes. “Of course you went there first. Did he turn you away? Come to try your luck with the other Hale in love with you?” Peter sneers, his face contorting into something ugly.
“Peter, I went to find you. I thought you were going to-” Stiles trails off. Peter’s not looking at him, not even interested in what Stiles is saying. “It doesn’t matter. I just, I wanted to find you. I wanted to tell you that I love you.”
“Is that all?” Peter looks disinterested and Stiles is crushed.
“I- I love you.” Stiles says again. Peter rolls his eyes and heads for his bedroom. “I want a house and dog, too. I want kids with you, two girls and a boy. I don’t want to name them after family members either. You’re right, it’s not fair to burden them with dead names.” Stiles starts moving closer, slowly, Peter is frozen in his doorway. “I think you’d be an amazing dad. You have so much love to give, Peter. I can’t have it all, even if I want it.”
Stiles takes a deep breath. “Please. Give me a second chance. I didn’t know. You’re not as easy to read as you think you are.”
Peter turns around then, he leans against the doorjamb more for support than looks. His eyes are soft at the corners. “That’s not fair,” his voice is hoarse.
“No it’s not.” Stiles smiles at him. “I fell in love with you when you held me tight and told me about your Pack. I can talk about my mom with you, I can talk about my dad. You are so much more than you think you are. Let’s get out of Beacon Hills, together.”
“You’d leave your home just like that?”
Stiles makes the final steps, closing the distance between them, running his hands up Peter’s chest. “My home is with you, Peter. I trust you and I love you, baby.”
Peter closes his eyes and leans in to rest their foreheads together. “Come to bed, sweetheart?”
Stiles smiles, big and broken and wet. “Yes.” He closes the distance and kisses Peter then. It’s just like Stiles knew it would be, just like coming home.
