@lucky-bishop said I could say they tagged me in a WIP whenever thing, so I am. I’ve been working on a lot of different things at once lately. One of these days at least one of them is bound to get done, right? Have a snippet from a shorter Steter fic:
Peter, surprisingly, doesn’t come through the window. He comes through Stiles’s bedroom door shortly after his last text.
“How’d you get in here?” Stiles asks. He’s tired enough that he has a moment of wondering if he somehow let Peter in and then forgot.
Peter holds up a keyring with a bunch of keys hanging off it. “You’re not the only one who gets their hands on keys,” he says.
“What?” Stiles hisses, trying to keep his voice low so he doesn’t disturb his dad. “How long have you had those?”
“Oh, a few years,” Peter says vaguely.
“A few years?”
“Yes,” Peter replies.
“Before we were friends,” Stiles says after some calculation.
“Oh Stiles, we’ve always been friends, haven’t we?”
“I think you’re forgetting about the times you tried to kill me!” Stiles whisper-shouts.
Peter actually looks affronted at that. “Name one time I tried to kill you.”
“That night at the school,” Stiles answers immediately.
Peter actually has the audacity to scoff. “I wasn’t trying to kill you, you just happened to be there. Sticking your little nose into everything, like you always do.”
He boops the end of Stiles’s nose when he says that last part, and Stiles’s mouth drops open. “You’re unbelievable.”
“What?” Peter asks, shrugging, “I’m simply telling the truth.”
“Sure. You never tried to kill me. Right.”
“Sweetheart, if I had wanted to kill you, I had plenty of chances, not the least of which was when I had you all to myself in that parking garage.” He grabs Stiles’s wrist in a light grip and moves it toward his own mouth. His blue eyes look straight at Stiles. “Remember?”
Stiles’s heartbeat goes crazy then. He can feel it thrumming beneath Peter’s fingers. It’s partly a fear response, partly something he’s not going to look at too hard right now. He jerks his wrist away, just like he did that night. “I remember.”
“And you don’t think I could have killed you if I’d wanted to?”
Stiles sighs in frustration. “You do realize this is an insane conversation, right? This is not normal. I’m considering taking back the friend thing.”
“Are you going to break up with Scott then? Because I seem to remember that he literally tried to kill you.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re giving me a headache.” He’s not even lying, his head is starting to hurt.
“Truce?” Peter asks. He actually looks apologetic, like maybe he’s worried Stiles is going to take away his friendship status.
“Fine,” Stiles says. After all, in this life he’s living, holding the past over each other’s heads would dissolve the pack in no time. They’ve only survived as long as they have because they’ve fought for each other, even with all the mistakes they’ve all made.
