"Just a few more questions, Stiles," Chris says.
"Of course, no worries," Stiles says, the picture of ease in the comfortable Argent-Hale living room.
"How long were you with your last family, the Whittemores?" Chris asks.
"Two and a half years," Stiles says.
"I see that you put on your resume that we can't contact them. Did that relationship end badly?" Peter asks.
The three of them are in the tastefully decorated living room, which is currently filled with toys, nearing the end of Stiles' interview for the live-in nanny position.
"Oh, no not at all! I mean, you can call them if you want, but they moved to England and would probably not be happy about the long distance call," Stiles says.
"Understood," Chris says, writing something on the copy of Stiles' resume in front of him.
"You'll have to excuse my husband," Peter drawls. "He's not nearly as much of a hardass as he appears."
Chris glares at Peter, but Stiles laughs and waves his words away.
"It's about your kid, I expect a certain level of hardass-ness," she says.
"Thank you," Chris says, sending Peter a pointed look. "I see you've been a nanny for three families so far. Is being a nanny something you want to do long-term, or is it something you're just doing for now?"
"I'm not sure," Stiles says with a shrug. "I know I want to work with kids and I like being a nanny. I could do general childcare, or maybe do preschool, I don't know. I have no immediate career changes planned, though."
"Those are all my questions," Chris says. He looks over at Peter. "Do you have any?"
"Nope," Peter says.
"Then would you like to see where your living area would be?" Chris asks.
"Sure," Stiles says.
She follows Peter and Chris through their elegant home and down a set of modern, dark wood stairs. Through the heavy door is the daylight basement that's been converted into a mother-in-law apartment. It's decorated in the same soft dove grays with white accents as the upstairs is, complete with a kitchen that leads into a spacious living area. Stiles hums appreciatively.
"The master bedroom is through here and you have your own en suite," Peter says, leading Stiles through a door.
"The walk-in closet is bigger than my entire apartment right now," Stiles says.
Peter chuckles and nudges Chris.
"And you thought it wasn't a prudent investment," Peter says.
"It isn't," Chris says, but he's smiling a little. "So, Stiles. Any questions for us?"
"Yeah, actually," Stiles says. "Is Caleb a werewolf like Peter?"
There's complete silence other than the knuckles cracking in Peter's hands. Chris rests his hand on his hip, where a pistol is hidden. Stiles raises her hands to show she means no harm.
"Are you a hunter?" Peter asks.
"No," Stiles says, rolling her eyes. "My best friend was bitten when we were in high school, okay? I know what to look for."
Chris turns to Peter, who nods.
"She's telling the truth," Peter says to Chris. "And no, Stiles. Caleb is not a werewolf."
"Okay, cool," Stiles says. "Either way is fine, I'd have just needed to know to take care of him if so. Two-year-olds are hard enough."
"Right," Chris says, still looking vaguely surprised. "Well...right."
"Let's go upstairs," Stiles says, taking pity on them. "I'm sure you have a few more things to interrogate me on now."
They hire Stiles. She has the best resume and the best references. With Stiles' permission, they email the Whittemores and she gets a glowing recommendation, expounding on how well she handled their difficult son, Jackson. She's moved in and starts in less than a week and immediately, Caleb takes to Stiles like a fish to water. Every day it's 'Stiles says...' and 'Stiles likes...'. They now buy green grapes because Stiles likes them better.
"They're grapes," Peter had said. "Grapes are grapes. Never mind that Stiles buys her own food."
"Grapes, Papa, grapes!" Caleb had insisted.
"You heard the man," Chris had said.
The thing is, neither Peter nor Chris have to work if they don't want to. Chris' business runs like a well-oiled machine and his assistant, Lydia, could run the whole thing with her eyes shut. But Chris built the company from the ground up after he cut himself off from his family and the Argent money. He made it himself and while he trusts Lydia, he still wants to have control of it. Plus, he likes his work.
Peter's job as a lit professor at the college keeps him busy, but like Chris, he loves his job. It's what he's always wanted to do and something he can't picture giving up. It doesn't make as much as Chris' weapons business does ("Stop calling it a glorified gun shop, Peter!"), but it's still his.
Hence, hiring a nanny. Stiles isn't the first they've had either. No, first came Alexa, then Bailey, then Jason. Alexa had no chemistry with Caleb. In fact, Caleb seemed to hate her. Bailey didn't pay enough attention to Caleb and almost got him hit by a car. And Jason, well, Jason tried to kiss Chris. So they aren't hoping for much when they hire their fourth (and final; if Stiles doesn't work out, Chris will have to take a step back from his business) nanny. So Stiles is a godsend.
Peter comes home early one day to see Stiles and Caleb sitting at the coffee table with a big book in front of them. Caleb is excitedly pointing to what Peter can see are animals and talking animatedly.
"That's a fish! They live in the lake!"
"They do?" Stiles asks, just ask excitedly. "Which lake?"
"Right there!" Caleb says, pointing out the front window.
"Whoa," Stiles says, as if she doesn't see the lake everyday, swinging Caleb up so they can look at the lake outside the window. The Argent-Hale house isn't right on the water, but it can be seen from the living room. "Have you been there?"
"Yeah! Lots of fish! Let's go!"
Caleb tries to wiggle free and Stiles just laughs and sets him down.
"Hold on there, tiger, it's getting late, we need to get you a snack soon," Stiles says. "Then we can ask your dad and papa when they get home if we can go to the lake tomorrow, how does that sound?"
"That sounds good to me," Peter says from the doorway, deciding to make his presence known.
"Papa!" Caleb shrieks and hurtles at Peter.
"Hey, kiddo," Peter says, picking up Caleb and blowing a raspberry on his stomach. "How was your day?"
"Good! Stiles is teaching me about aminals!"
"Animals," Stiles corrects with a smile.
"Amin...ani...animals," Caleb says slowly.
"That's right," Peter says. "Animals, huh? Did you tell her your favorite is a wolf?"
"Stiles, my favorite is a wolf!" Caleb says.
Stiles valiantly keeps a straight face, though Peter can see she's trying hard not to make a sarcastic comment.
"No way," Stiles says. "I love wolves."
"Papa! Can we go to the lake?" Caleb asks.
"Let me talk to dad about it, okay?" Peter says.
"Maybe," Peter says again. "Didn't Stiles say it's time to have a snack?"
"Go wash up and I'll get you some apple slices," Stiles says.
"No, my hands are clean!"
"Caleb," Peter says warningly. "I thought I told you. You listen to Stiles like she's me or Dad, right?"
"Yes, Papa," Caleb mutters. He goes to wash his hands, shoulders comically slumped, trying to earn sympathy.
"Does he do that often?" Peter asks Stiles. "Refuse to listen to you?"
"No often," Stiles says with a shrug. "He's a two-year-old. I expect some obstinateness."
"Still," Peter says with a frown.
"Peter, it's fine," Stiles says, touching the man's arm lightly. "I promise. If he does it a lot, I'll tell you. Okay?"
"Okay. I have some papers to grade, are you still good to watch him?" Peter asks.
"I'm on the clock until 6:00 p.m., even if you're here," Stiles reminds him. "Don't worry about it."
"Thank you," Peter says.
"I washed!" Caleb says, running back into the room.
"Good job, kiddo," Stiles says.
"Papa, come have apples with us!"
"I have to do some work, but I'll be down in a few hours," Peter says.
"But that's foreeever," Caleb whines.
"Right? Papa's so meeeean," Stiles says.
"Hey! Papa isn't mean, Papa is the best!" Caleb says.
"You're right, so why don't we let Papa finish working so he can come back down?" Stiles asks.
"Okay. Apples!" Caleb says.
"Apples," Stiles confirms.
Peter truly adores Stiles.
Chris comes home early that week, too, but specifically with the intent to watch Stiles interact with Caleb. He trusts Peter on what he saw, but he wants to see for himself. He picks a good day, relatively speaking, because Caleb is throwing the mother of all temper tantrums.
"I WANT DADDY AND PAPA!" Caleb's shouting.
"Caleb," Stiles says calmly, much more calmly than Chris would have said anything, especially since he has the feeling this has been going on for a long time. "We already talked about this. Dad and Papa are at work right now."
"I WANT THEM!"
"Are you hurt?"
"You know the rules, Caleb. If you aren't injured, we don't interrupt Papa and Dad at work," Stiles says firmly.
"That's stupid! You're stupid!" Caleb shouts.
"Caleb Argent-Hale," Stiles says. "We do not say that to people."
"Yes we do! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Caleb yells.
Chris is appalled and wants to come around the corner and talk to Caleb, but he always wants to know what Stiles will do. She knows that they don't approve of corporal punishment and he doesn't feel like she will disobey that, but still...he wants to know.
Caleb screeches and cries and hits at Stiles' legs, but Stiles stands firmly with her arms crossed until Caleb tires himself out and just sobs at her feet. When he seems to have burned himself out, she crouches down next to him.
"Caleb, what is going on, buddy? You never act like this," Stiles says. Caleb shrugs. "That's not an answer."
"I want Dad and Papa," Caleb says quietly.
"Well they're going to be home in a few hours, aren't they?" Stiles asks.
"Yeah, but that's so far away," Caleb whines.
"Do you think they'll be happy at you yelling and hitting me?" Stiles asks.
"No," Caleb says sullenly.
"I don't think so either," Stiles says. "So this is what we're going to do. You're going to sit in the time out chair for ten minutes and we're not going to watch any Curious George."
"No," Caleb whines.
"Caleb," Stiles says. "Time out chair."
Caleb glares and stomps his way over the chair in the corner of the room. He sits with his arms crossed, sullenly staring at the room. Stiles sets the alarm on her phone.
"When that beeps, we'll have our afternoon snack," she says.
Chris sighs and leans back against the front door. Caleb is solidly in his terrible twos and while intellectually Chris had known that Stiles was going to bearing a large portion of the brunt, hearing his son talk to someone else like that isn't fun.
"You look like you've had a long day," Stiles says.
Chris isn't proud of it, but he jumps. Not many can sneak up on him. He opens his eyes to see Stiles standing a few feet from him, looking as tired as he feels.
"You could say that," Chris says. "I'm sorry about that. I was hoping he's growing out of his tantrums. But they do call them the terrible twos."
"A lot of that is because two-year-olds are smart," Stiles says. "Their brains are developing and understanding new concepts but they don't have the language skills to get their point across yet. I'd throw a tantrum, too. Hell, I have. But I'm an adult so it's a little more frowned upon."
Chris quirks a smile, used to Stiles' rambles by now.
"Still, it's inappropriate," Chris says.
"It's nothing I can't handle. Between you and me, Jackson was way worse," Stiles says.
"How?" Chris asks.
"He was very spoiled. I didn't know that level of entitlement could come from a six-year-old," Stiles says. "Also, he bit."
Chris lets out a startled laugh, louder than he intended. It gets Caleb's attention.
"Dad!" he calls out.
Chris sighs and he and Stiles walk around to corner to see Caleb backwards on the chair, sitting on his knees.
"You're in your time out chair for five more minutes," Chris reminds him. "I'll come over when your time's up."
"No buts," Chris says. Caleb pouts and turns back around in his chair. Chris looks at Stiles and frowns. The bags under her eyes are more pronounced than he'd thought at first. "Are you okay?"
"Me? Yeah, why?" Stiles asks.
"You seem a little...run down?"
"Is that your polite way of telling me that my period is kicking my ass?"
Chris, raised with a sister, doesn't flinch at the mention of a menstrual cycle, but it does make him blink at her.
"You should take the rest of the day off. I can handle him."
"No, it's okay," Stiles says cheerily. "I can do my job."
"I don't doubt that," Chris says, putting a hand on her shoulder. "But you spend all day taking care of someone else. I'd like you to make sure you take care of yourself, too."
"You are such a dad, how can I say no to a dad request like that?" she says.
"Plus, I can talk to Caleb about how we don't hit," Chris says, frowning. "I don't like that he's somehow picked that up."
"You're sure? I can be here if you need me," Stiles says.
Chris squeezes her shoulder before letting go.
"We'll be fine. Go," he says.
Stiles seems to sag in relief.
"I am going to take the longest, hottest shower you have ever heard of," she says.
"You enjoy yourself," Chris says, mentally kicking himself as soon as he says it for how it could come across. Stiles doesn't seem to notice though, just waves over her shoulder as she heads down the stairs to her living area. Chris watches her go, eyes on her hips before sighing. He isn't looking forward to the conversation with Caleb.
Every month that goes by makes Stiles love her job even more. Caleb is a bright, vivacious kid who just wants to learn more about the world around him. With Peter and Chris' permission, Stiles starts bringing him to the lake. They play on the playground or, if it's warm enough, stick their toes in the water.
The problem is, Stiles has the biggest, most inappropriate crush on both Peter and Chris. Besides being the most doting and loving fathers she's ever met, they have the cutest relationship with each other, they're both ridiculously hot, and they both actually talk to her like she's a human.
Stiles is 25 and has been a nanny for families since she was 18. She's dealt with many different types of parents and the vast majority treat her like a glorified maid (and they don't treat the actual maid very well). She's the hired help, not a person. While she understands the need for professionalism, treating her like she's less than human isn't useful at all. For the Argent-Hales though, that line of professionalism is starting to blur is bit.
It starts when Caleb insists Stiles stays after her shift is over to watch Finding Nemo with them. Peter and Chris try to explain that Stiles has to go home now (what they call her mother-in-law apartment in their basement, making it very clear that it's Stiles' space and Caleb is never to go there except for in an emergency) but Caleb clings to Stiles' legs and puts on the manipulative puppy dog face (he puts Scott to shame) and Stiles can feel her resolve weakening.
"You're welcome if you want to," Chris says quietly over Caleb's head. "But you don't have to of course."
"I do love Finding Nemo," Stiles says weakly. She looks down at Caleb's pleading face. "Okay, kiddo."
Caleb drags Stiles to the huge sectional in their family room (the only room in the house with a TV) and spends five minutes arranging them to his exact preferences. Stiles has to sit in the middle, with Peter on one side and Chris on the other (Stiles internally groans because why? That's not fair.) and they all need to sit super close so Caleb can touch all of them. Chris gives her an apologetic look but Peter sends her a wink that makes her blush crimson.
They start the movie and Caleb climbs into Peter's lap, grabbing Stiles' hand. Chris puts his arm on the couch behind their heads so that there's a little room between him and Stiles, but not much. Whenever he tries to give some space, Caleb whines and makes grabby hands. They all seem to accept it after ten minutes and just go with it. Stiles is fine. She's totally fine. She's sitting sandwiched between two of the most attractive men she's ever met, but yeah, she's fine.
"Papa, look, clown fish!" Caleb says, excitedly pointing at Marlin and Nemo.
Peter looks a little surprised.
"Yeah, that's a clown fish. How'd you know that, buddy?" he asks.
"Stiles," Caleb says.
Peter and Chris look at Stiles with eyebrows raised.
"He loves fish," Stiles says with a shrug. "My friend Scott teaches preschool and lent me a book about fish for two to three-year-olds."
"Baby oct'pus!" Caleb says, pointing to the screen again.
"That's right," Peter says, hugging Caleb closer.
"Thank you," Chris says. "That's nice of you."
Stiles just shrugs. It's not a big deal to her, but Chris and Peter seem to think it is.
"You're welcome," she says.
The thing is, as very aware she is that she's sitting between the two of them, their bodies hot lines against her sides, she's also incredibly tired. Stiles starts to nod off a bit right after the encounter with the angler fish (Caleb loves it). She fights it at first, helped by Caleb crawling across her lap to get to Chris, but eventually she lets her head fall backward onto the couch, bumping Chris' arm.
Caleb, as excited as he is to watch Finding Nemo, drops off to sleep not long after Stiles does. Caleb kicks out, which hits Stiles. Peter's sure that's going to wake her up but she just grunts and scoots a bit to the side, her head lolling onto Peter's shoulder. Peter doesn't mind, shifting a bit closer so the line of his body is flush with hers. Chris sends him a warning look, but it's hard for Peter to find him intimidating when he has their two-year-old son cradled in his arms.
Peter coos and manages to pull out his phone without waking Stiles and takes a picture of Chris and Caleb. No matter how many time he sees it, and no matter how many pictures he has, it always sets something in Peter's stomach aflutter with happiness when he sees his husband and son together.
Stiles mumbles something and presses her face closer into Peter's shoulder. It's so close to scent marking that if Peter weren't 100% sure she's asleep, he'd think she's doing it on purpose. He looks down at her fondly and Chris hisses at him.
"No," Chris says.
"I didn't do anything," Peter says innocently.
"You were thinking it," Chris says. "Just watch the movie."
The thing is, Peter is thinking it. It's been years since Peter and Chris have had a third in their relationship and he can't help it that Stiles is beautiful and just their type. Smart, sassy, gorgeous, good with children. He isn't going to make a move on her, she's his son's nanny after all and this isn't porn, but he also isn't going to move Stiles off of him. He shifts a little, trying to keep his arm from going numb, and Stiles' head falls more onto his shoulder. Peter wraps his arm around the back of the couch, the same way Chris' had been. Stiles doesn't stir.
"You're a menace," Chris says.
Peter shrugs, completely unapologetically, and goes back to watching the pelican fly around with Marlin and Dory in his mouth.
Stiles doesn't stir until halfway through the credits. She groans a little and opens her eyes slowly, freezing when she realizes she's on someone's shoulder. She looks up slowly at Peter, eyes wide with horror.
"Oh my god," she says, jerking back and almost bumping into Caleb and Chris. She looks between Peter and Chris wildly. "Oh my god, I am so sorry Mr. Hale!"
"It's fine Stiles," Peter says, waving away her concern. "And please, once again, call me Peter."
"I swear I didn't mean to drool on you, wow, I drooled on my boss, shit. I mean shoot! God, I'm going to get fired," she moans.
"Stiles," Chris says, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's fine. If Peter minded, he'd have pushed you off. He's rude like that."
"Still. Mr. Argent, Mr. Hale, I am so sorry," Stiles says again.
"We're Peter and Chris," Peter says, though he likes the way Mr. Hale sounds coming from her. "And believe me, it's fine. Caleb passed out too."
"Caleb is allowed to pass out on his dad," Stiles points out. "I'm not."
"You've had a long day," Chris says. "Please just relax, I promise everything is fine."
"Okay, right, yes, I can do that," Stiles says, taking a deep breath. "Okay, I'm good. I'm chill. Here, let me help you clean up."
"It's just a popcorn bowl, go ahead and go to sleep, we got this," Peter says.
"Enjoy your weekend, Stiles," Chris says, standing smoothing with Caleb cradled to his chest.
"Thanks, you too," Stiles says before hastily making her way from the room.
Chris glares at Peter.
"What?" Peter asks innocently.
"You know what," Chris says, kicking him in the shin.
"Uncalled for, Christopher," Peter says.
Chris just rolls his eyes.
Stiles touches herself that night to images of Peter and Chris. She comes with a cry and two fingers buried in her cunt, thinking of Peter and Chris fucking her, of them fucking each other.
Peter and Chris take a Friday off to take Caleb to a local carnival. They ask Stiles if she wants to come and to neither of their surprise, she says yes. If anyone would love a carnival, Chris had had the feeling that it would be Stiles. She's almost as excited as Caleb when she slides into the back seat of Chris' SUV.
"Games! And rides!" Caleb says excitedly.
"Do you want to go down the big slides?" Stiles asks.
"Yes! And the horseys!"
"The carousel," Peter explains from the passenger seat. "He likes to ride the horses."
Chris is always impressed at Peter's control when they go to big events like baseball games or carnivals. It doesn't smell great to his human nose, he can't imagine how awful it is to Peter's. He makes a face when they open the door, but his features smooth over quickly. Peter unbuckles Caleb from his car seat and sets him down, making sure to keep a hold of his hand. Caleb tries to tug his hand away.
"Nuh uh, mister," Peter says. "We aren't having a repeat of the grocery store last week."
Caleb pouts but drags Peter forward by the hand (Chris is endlessly amused at his strong, predator husband being dragged around by a tiny toddler, but that's just him) and Chris and Stiles follow them to the ticket booth. Chris pays for all of them, though Stiles protests.
"You're on the clock still, Stiles. Let us," Chris says.
"Only because you're too nice to force me to take a day off," Stiles says.
"Potato, po-tah-to," Peter says.
"The slide, Stiles!" Caleb says.
Caleb takes Stiles' hand with his free hand, tugging her and Peter toward the huge slides that are easily three stories high.
"That's way up there," Stiles says tentatively.
"It's fun!" Caleb says.
Stiles lets herself be pulled with Peter, but her body language is telling Chris she isn't thrilled.
"Are you okay?" Chris asks when they're in line.
"It's high," Stiles says, looking up.
Chris has to admit, they are tall slides. They're the kind that are long and wide, with multiple lanes so lots of people are sliding at once on their potato sacks.
"You aren't a fan of heights?" he asks.
"Heights and I aren't always on speaking terms," Stiles says. "Do you remember the high school best friend I told you about?"
The werewolf one, is what Chris is sure she isn't saying.
"Yes," he says.
"We got into some, uh, special trouble sometimes," Stiles says. Chris is taking that as code for supernatural. He frowns a bit. "And I kind of ended up danging from six story roof once."
Peter looks over in alarm and Chris' eyebrows raise.
"I don't get into shi - shenanigans like that anymore," Stiles says quickly, though Chris isn't worried about that, but worried about her. Worried about what she's had to endure for someone so young if she can casually discuss things like this.
"We're gonna go so fast!" Caleb says excitedly, not noticing the tension in Stiles' shoulders.
Chris reaches out and places his hand between her shoulder blades, making her jump a bit, before she relaxes as he starts kneading the knots in her back. Stiles groans, her eyes fluttering shut. Peter raises an eyebrow and smirks over Caleb's head. Chris steadfastly ignore's his husband's amused stare.
"Thanks," she says a bit hoarsely when he pulls his hand away.
"You're welcome," Chris says.
The line goes quickly and soon they're at the top. Caleb wants his own potato sack, so Chris and Peter sit on either side of him, holding his hands to make sure he doesn't shoot out ahead of them. Stiles gingerly sits next to Chris, biting her lip nervously.
"You can just go down the stairs," Chris says quietly to her.
"I'm a grown ass woman who will go down this slide," Stiles whispers back quietly. "But oh my god."
Chris surprises himself by reaching out to her for a second time. He takes her hand in his and squeezes it gently.
"Let's go!" Caleb says.
They scoot forward and soon are sliding down the long bumpy slide. A little swooping sensation is spreading low in his stomach and Chris isn't sure if it's from the slide or not. Stiles lets out a little squeak and clings to Chris' hand, refusing to let go until they're at the bottom.
"Again!" Caleb says
"Why don't we look at some of the games?" Peter suggests, eyeing Stiles when she blanches.
"Okay!" Caleb says.
Caleb takes Peter's hand again and marches them all toward the games.
Peter is endlessly amused by his husband. Chris is sticking close to Stiles, has been ever since the slide, and Peter's pretty sure Chris doesn't even know he's doing it. Peter had been surprised that Chris had touched Stiles not once but twice. Luckily, their relationship isn't full of jealousy. They've been in triad relationships before and they know where they stand with each other. His husband holding Stiles' hand while she freaks out about heights isn't something to make Peter jealous. Especially since Peter would more than happily do the same.
It's been building for months now. His wolf, normally so cautious of others in his den, has been all but rolling around in her scent since she started working for them. There's something about it that calls to him. He's comfortable with her, he actually likes her (and color him surprised at that). It's had for Peter not to scent her whenever she walks by. Of course, as someone who knows about werewolves, she'd know exactly what he's doing.
"A wolfie!" Caleb says.
Peter turns to where, sure enough, there's a giant wolf toy in one of the game stalls.
"Do you want to try for it?" Peter asks.
"Yes," Caleb says decisively. "I like wolves. Fish are better though."
It's a ring toss game, obviously rigged so Peter is sure Caleb won't win. Sure enough, after a few tosses of the weirdly weighted rings, Caleb only manages to knock the peg. He looks a little sad but doesn't throw a fit about it, which Peter is pleasantly surprised at.
"Anyone else?" the game runner asks.
"I'll try," Stiles says.
Peter doesn't expect much, honestly. Nothing against Stiles, but even he and Chris sometimes have trouble at carnival games, and one is a trained marksman and the other is an apex predator. Stiles tosses the rings in her hands a few times, testing the weight of them, before bracing her legs and looking intently at the peg. To Peter's surprise, her first first toss is right on target, the ring dropping right onto the peg. The next one almost ricochets off, but drops down on the peg. Stiles bites her lip, her tongue sticking out of her mouth in a way that Peter refuses to find endearing, and tossing the last ring. It easily makes it. The game runner looks a little surprised too, but recovers quickly.
"All right, pretty lady, which one do you want?" the game runner asks.
"The wolf, please," Stiles says and immediately hands the giant wolf, almost bigger than Caleb, to the boy.
"Whoa!" Caleb says, staggering a bit under the awkwardly shaped animal. "Thank you!"
"Sure thing kiddo, what's next?" Stiles says.
Next is ski ball, then a basketball shooting game, then a water gun game. Stiles is surprisingly good at ski ball and the water gun, but garbage at basketball. Peter enjoys showing off and making a record number of baskets and earning a giant bag of candy, which Caleb eyes excitedly.
"One piece," Chris says firmly.
"Aw," Caleb whines.
"One," Peter confirms.
The carousel is next and Peter is pretty sure they're going to ride at least four times. Caleb takes his time picking which horse is the best before Peter lifts him up and buckles him in, keeping one hand on his back just in case. Stiles hops onto the horse next to them, her long, short-clad legs on full display.
"Dad, you too!" Caleb says.
Chris sighs, but Peter knows his husband is a big softie and sure enough, Chris climbs on the horse on the other side of Caleb, much to their son's delight. As Peter predicted, one time isn't enough. They go on the carousel twice more before even Peter is getting dizzy. He carries Caleb off the ride, not trusting him not to faceplant after going in circles for so long. Stiles trips coming off of her horse, crashing right into Chris who barely keeps them upright.
"Sorry, sorry," Stiles says, disentangling herself from Chris.
"It's fine," Chris assures her, keeping a hand on her back until he's sure she isn't going to topple over. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm not coordinated at the best of times," Stiles says.
Chris slowly lets his hand fall back to his side. Yes, Peter thinks, his husband indeed is an oblivious idiot.
Stiles is completely spent by the time they leave the carnival. She'd had a bit of a sugar high from the cotton candy, much to Peter and Chris' amusement, and now the epic crash is hitting her. Caleb is just as tired, a day of walking and fun really wearing him out. Stiles thinks maybe the funhouse was the last straw before he just gave up. Chris is carrying the sleeping boy as they head back to the car, Caleb's drool already making a wet spot on his shirt.
"Do you need to be carried, too," Peter asks Stiles playfully, nudging her elbow with his.
"I know you're joking, but be careful what you offer," Stiles says.
"Who says I'm joking?" Peter says.
"You're Peter," Stiles says simply. "Everything is a half-joke, with a hint of seriousness and a smidgen of truth under it."
Peter raises his eyebrows in surprise, apparently lost for words. Yeah, Stiles does that people sometimes.
"Well, you have me there," he says.
"I know," Stiles says. "So, piggyback ride?"
Peter laughs and stops walking, bending down a bit so she can hop up. Stiles takes a running leap and jumps onto his back, knowing he can take the sudden weight. Peter wraps his hands around her thighs, hoisting her more securely against his back. Stiles sighs and settles in, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes.
She's too tired to care that it's probably ridiculously inappropriate. Peter offered, so here she is. Chris sends them an amused look, but he doesn't seem to surprised .He's probably used to Peter's antics by now. It's only a five minute walk to the car, but Stiles isn't going to say no to a free ride.
Peter and Chris haven't had a weekend to themselves in what feels like years, but can't be. Stiles agrees to watch Caleb on Saturday and Sunday so that Peter and Chris can take a three day weekend for their anniversary. They'd been planning on hiring a babysitter, not wanting to ask Stiles to basically take a babysitting job on her weekends off, but Peter promised to pay her double and Stiles said it was fine. Peter had been reluctant to hire a babysitter anyway, not really liking the last few that they'd hired ("They're fine, Peter." "Karen smelled weird." "You think everyone smells weird.") and the other option would be having one of his family members come up for the weekend, and he actively tries to avoid that.
They don't go far, just about a hundred miles north to a little beach town they'd visited when they were dating. It had been so stereotypical, too. It was storming, the power went out. They needed to light a fire then they'd lain together for warmth. It had been the first time Peter had told Chris that he loves him. It was the first time Chris said it back.
This time, it's beautiful and sunny. They rent the same bungalow, because Peter is a huge softie at heart, and spend the first day walking around town and lounging on the beach. They have a home gym that they both use, so Chris knows his husband takes care of his body, but he can't help appreciating it. They're lying together under the sun, water from ocean pebbled on Peter's skin, and Chris is struck again by just how beautiful he is.
Peter smirks like he knows what Chris is thinking and stretches, arching his back and putting the play of his muscles on display. He sighs breathily and settles, humming under his breath before he looks at Chris. Chris doesn't know what his face is doing, but he's pretty sure he's staring at Peter like he wants to devour him.
"You're a tease," Chris growls.
"Am I?" Peter asks.
"I'm not going to fuck you on a public beach," Chris says. "I'll only go so far for your exhibitionist little self."
"Our bungalow is only a few minutes away," Peter points out.
"We've only been here for a half hour," Chris says.
"And what would you rather do; lie in the sun getting skin cancer, or fuck me into the mattress in a bungalow where we can be as loud as we want?" Peter asks.
Chris grinds his teeth for a second before giving in.
"You're carrying the blanket and towels," Chris says.
It's a short walk back to their bungalow and Peter is on Chris as soon as the door is closed. His lips are hot and hungry on Chris'. They haven't been able to be together like this in months, not worried about a kid barging in or being overheard. They're both eager, panting for it. Chris wants it to last, wants to draw this out as much as possible, but Peter is taking Chris' hand and guiding it around his ass to his hole. Chris groans, finding Peter wet and open for him.
"You little slut," he says fondly.
Peter just grins and pushes Chris back onto the couch. Neither of them bother to strip completely; Peter loses his swim trunks and Chris just pulls out his cock, then Peter is sinking down on him, letting Chris' length fill him up. He's tight, tight enough that Chris is sure there's some discomfort, but Peter has always loved a little pain with his pleasure and Chris trusts him to know what he can and can't take.
Peter rides him quickly, ass slamming against Chris' thighs as he drops himself down over and over. Chris' hands and tight on Peter's waist, digging in as he thrusts up into his husband. It's been too long, too many months of quick handjobs in the morning or a blowjob before bed. It's been too long since he's felt the velvety clutch of Peter's body.
"Christopher!" Peter says, his rhythm faulting. His hand in gripping his dick tightly.
"That's it," Chris says, recognizing it as Peter being close. "You can do it. Come for me, Peter."
Peter gasps, tightening up around Chris' cock as he comes, his release spilling over his hand. Chris thrusts up into Peter faster, chasing his own orgasm. Peter leans down and lets his fangs graze against Chris' neck and, like usual, that does it. Chris groans as he comes, filling up Peter with his seed.
Peter doesn't bother to move, just settles into Chris' lap and wraps his arms around him. Chris tilts his head up to kiss his softly, smiling into it.
"I had plans, you know," Chris says. "I was going to take my time with you. Open you up slowly, make you beg."
"Mm, sounds fun," Peter says. "You still can, you know. We have until Sunday."
Chris is sure this man is going to be the death of him.
They mean to go out and go around the town, they really do, but the stay in bed all of Friday and well into Saturday. They go for a walk around noon, wanting to see what's near them, but Peter ends up on his knees in an alley, sucking down Chris is broad daylight, and they head back to their bungalow soon after that.
Peter and Chris do manage to break for dinner on Saturday night. They have to leave tomorrow so they figure they should do one nice meal before they go. There's a nice, family-owned Italian place that's been here for years that they go to when they're in town. The owner recognizes them and comes out to shake their hands, congratulating them on their anniversary. Chris has the spaghetti, which makes Peter call him boring. They have a nice wine, eat dinner, and yet all Chris can think about is getting his husband naked and spread out on the sheets.
That night while they lie naked in bed, when Peter takes Chris' aching erection in his hand, it's a bit different. Stiles comes up.
"Are you imagining it's her hand on you?" Peter asks, stroking Chris lightly.
"What?" Chris says.
"You know what," Peter says. "You've seen her mouth, it'd be perfect for this, perfect for sucking you."
"Peter..." Chris says, not sure if he's warning him off or begging him not to stop.
"You'd love it, love if she dropped to her knees for you," Peter says. He licks a line up Chris' cock, wetting it so he can grip him harder. "Do you think you would come just from fucking her mouth, or would you wait until you're in her little cunt?"
There's no denying his moan, or the way his hips buck into Peter's stroke that time. Peter smirks.
"Just think of how pretty she'd look split open on our cocks, crying out as we fuck her full," Peter says, speeding up his hand. "Think of biting at her pretty tits and coming deep inside her. Think of her leaking our seed down her thighs. Think of her cry out your name as she gushes - "
"Fuck!" Chris shouts, coming all over Peter's hand.
Peter grabs his own dick with his come-covered hand, groaning as he jacks himself. Chris watches a bit come-stupid, shocked with the force of his own orgasm. Peter groans, coming quickly, no doubt worked up from the thought of Stiles in their bed.
"Christ," Chris says, still catching his breath. "Do you think about her often?"
"Not all the time," Peter says. "But she's come to mind. Can you honestly say you haven't thought about her?"
No, he can't. He's thought about what her big brown eyes would look like as she looks up at him, his cock shoved down her throat. He's thought about fucking her over his desk at work, or having her ride him in his car. He's thought about coming inside her cunt, filling her up full.
"That's what I thought," Peter says.
"We aren't having sex with the nanny," Chris says.
"Of course not," Peter says. "That doesn't mean we can't imagine what it'd be like to have her in our bed. Maybe with one of us in her ass and one in her pussy."
Chris groans as his cock twitches in a vain effort to get hard again.
"We aren't 20 anymore, Peter," Chris reminds him.
"How about this then, I start fingering you open so whenever we are ready, I can fuck you hard and fast," Peter says, trailing his fingers up Chris' stomach.
"Well who am I to argue that?" Chris says.
Peter laughs and kisses him soundly.
Having a weekend with just her and Caleb is weird. She knows his routines, how to put him to bed if she works a later shift, how his mornings go if she works earlier, but doing it twenty four/seven is just different. She doesn't mind it, she loves spending time with Caleb.
Stiles takes him to the aquarium on Friday and Caleb's eyes go wide with all the different kinds of fish ("It's a Nemo!"). Saturday is rainy so they stay inside playing and watching Curious George. The great thing about Caleb is that he's so naturally inquisitive that it never feels like she has to find an activity or force him to do something. He's always ready to try something and is always ready to play.
Peter and Chris are going to be back around 4:00 pm on Sunday, so Stiles and Caleb go to the park nearby for a bit. There's an area for bigger kids and an area for kids around Caleb's age. Caleb wants to go down the big slide, but Stiles manages to convince him that the smaller slide will be just as fun.
After running around for an hour, Stiles sits on one of the benches, watching as Caleb keeps going down the slide. He's only a few feet away and the smaller kid area is enclosed, so she isn't too worried about him escaping. She still keeps a sharp eye on him though, having seen enough horror stories to know what can happen in an instant. Still, it's impossible to be looking 100% of the time and she jumps when a car alarm goes off. She turns back around just in time to see a boy about twice the size of Caleb push him off the stairs to the slide. Caleb screams and lands hard on his side.
"Hey!" Stiles shouts.
Stiles leaps up and runs to Caleb. The kid that pushed Caleb backs up with his hands in the air, like he didn't just shove a kid half his size down. Stiles drops to her knees next to Caleb, skinning the bare skin on the wood chips.
"Hey kiddo, where's it hurt?" Caleb just sobs and points to his wrist. "Okay honey, we're going to go get it looked at okay?" Stiles turns furious eyes to the other boy. "That is unacceptable behavior! You don't push people!"
"What's going on?" a woman asks, running over. "Henry?"
"Some kid fell over," the kid, Henry, says.
"If 'fell over' means this little bully pushed him, then yeah, that's totally what happened," Stiles says sarcastically.
"Don't call my son a bully, you tramp!" the woman shrieks, outraged at the mere idea of her little baby being mean. Stiles is forcibly reminded of Aunt Petunia from Harry Potter.
Stiles stands, fury radiating from her. She knows exactly what she looks like when she's like this and scarier monsters that Mrs. Cheap Hair Extensions have cowered from her. The mom takes a step back.
"Get a handle on your child," Stiles says, voice cold. "And congrats on raising a bully."
"I...you...I..." the woman stammers, but Stiles pays her no mind.
She gently picks up Caleb and heads back to her car. She makes sure not to jostle his arm when she puts him in the car seat, making sure to tell him the whole time how brave and strong he's being. There are tear tracks on Caleb's cheeks, but the sobbing has stopped thankfully. It breaks Stiles' heart to see him like this. She presses a kiss to his forehead before closing the door and running around to climb in the driver's side.
"We're going to the hospital to have them take a look at your wrist, okay?" she says.
"Okay," Caleb says meekly.
The drive is short, their local hospital being just ten minutes away. There's a bit of a wait and Caleb, exhausted from crying and pain, falls asleep cradling his hurt wrist. Stiles takes that moment to call Chris and Peter, not having wanted to call while she was driving.
"Hello, Stiles," Peter purrs as he answers. "We were just talking about you." There's a shuffle in the background.
"Hi Peter, look, don't freak out, okay?" Stiles says.
"Why?" Peter asks, all trace of teasing gone from his voice. "Are you two all right?"
"A kid shoved Caleb at the park and hurt his wrist," Stiles says as calmly as possible. "It doesn't look broken, but I've taken him to the hospital just in case. We just got here and finished checking in."
Peter swears and Stiles flinches.
"That wasn't directed at you," Peter says quickly. "Can I talk to him?"
"He's asleep for now, do you want me to wake him up?"
"No, no let him sleep."
"I gave the hospital the emergency form you had notarized so they should be calling soon," Stiles says. "I just wanted to call before you heard it from them."
"Thank you. We're going to leave as soon as possible. Are you are Children's?"
"Yes, off 45th."
"We'll be there are soon as possible," Peter says.
"Okay, we'll be here."
"Thank you for taking care of him."
"No thanks is needed."
It takes nearly an hour and a half until they're called back and after that, they still sit in the room for another fifteen minutes before a doctor actually comes in. Dr. Roman checks Caleb's wrist and hmms for a few minutes before saying anything.
"Well, I don't see any swelling or other signs of it being broken. He still has some movement, that's good. I'd like to take an x-ray just to be sure," Dr. Roman says. "When we talked to the parents, they signed off of that; however - "
Dr. Roman is interrupted then with the room door opening.
"Dad! Papa!" Caleb shouts.
Peter rushes into the room, followed by Chris, and immediately hugs their son. Chris shakes the doctor's hand briefly before he too hugs Caleb.
"Hello, I'm Chris Argent, this is my husband, Peter Hale," Chris says.
"I was just explaining to Ms. Stilinski that I see no evidence of a break, but I'd like to do an x-ray just to make sure." Dr. Roman says in stride, like he's used to people barging into his exam rooms all the time.
"Okay, let's do that," Chris says immediately.
"I'll wait in the waiting room," Stiles says. "There are a few too many bodies in here."
"We'll come get you," Peter promises. Stiles just nods.
Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, Stiles is starting to freak out. She is so going to be fired. She can't even keep Caleb safe for a whole weekend! She should never be allowed near kids, god she is awful at her job! What if Henry had pushed Caleb harder? What if it had been his neck he'd fallen on? What ifs circle in Stiles' mind as she sits in the corner of the waiting room.
Stiles has bitten her thumb nail almost down to the quick by the time Peter walks out and sees her. Her legs are jittery under her and she's shaking a little bit. She doesn't see Peter frown or notice how he rushes over her to her. She jumps when he touches her shoulder and looks up at him with wide eyes.
"Peter!" she says in surprise.
"Stiles, are you okay?"
"Oh my god, Peter I am so sorry, I saw the kid push Caleb but I couldn't get there in time," Stiles says hysterically. "I couldn't do anything about it, I'm so sorry, then the mom came over and I yelled at her and god, I am fucking awful at this and - "
"Whoa, Stiles, take deep breath," Peter says, placing his hands on each other her shoulders. "There we go, breathe okay? You have nothing to be sorry for. You did exactly the right thing."
"The right thing is not a nanny getting her kid's arm broken!" Stiles cries.
"Caleb's wrist is just sprained. It happens, okay? It isn't your fault that another kid pushed him," Peter says.
"You're not mad?" Stiles asks.
"At the kid that pushed him, absolutely. Not at you, sweet one," Peter says.
Stiles sags in relief.
"Oh thank god, I thought I was fired, and I'd never be allowed to work with kids and oh my god," Stiles says. She throws her arms around Peter, hugging him tightly. Tears gather at the corner of her eyes but she blinks them back. "He's really okay?"
Peter hugs her back, arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her smaller body flush against him.
"He has to wear a brace for a weak but he'll be fine," Peter says softly. "You're the best nanny we've had, there's no way we're letting you go."
Stiles shudders in relief, still shaking a bit. She pulls back from the hug and rifles in her pocket for her keys.
"I should head home then and get lunch ready, he should eat something, yeah, I'll just - "
"I don't think so," Peter says, snatching her keys from her. "I don't think you're quite up to driving, do you?"
"I'm fine," Stiles says, then truly takes inventory of herself. Her heart rate is still up, she's still jittery, and her mind is moving a mile a minute. "Okay," she says slowly. "Maybe not."
"Yep," Peter says. "Chris will take the SUV and I'll drive us home in your jeep, okay?"
"Okay," Stiles says. "Just...it's stupid, but she's my baby, okay? And she sticks in second, so be careful."
"Okay," Peter says calmly, though she's sure under there somewhere he's laughing at her. She elbows him a bit for it. "I didn't say anything!"
"You're thinking it!" she says.
Peter makes lunch for them when they get back. It's nothing fancy, just a few sandwiches, but Stiles falls over herself thanking him. It makes Peter wonder when was the last time someone actually did something for her. Peter cuts up Caleb's into little pieces so he can eat one-handed instead of trying to use his wrapped wrist.
"Feeling any better?" Peter asks once they're done eating.
"Would ice cream help?"
Caleb perks up and nods enthusiastically. Peter smiles and pulls out the cookie dough ice cream out of the freezer, scooping out some for all of them. Chris will deny it, but he has a huge sweet tooth and won't say no if it's put in front of them.
"What about you?" Peter asks Stiles as they eat their ice cream.
"What about me?" Stiles asks, swirling her spoon around in her bowl.
"Are you feeling better?"
"Nothing happened to me," Stiles says with a shrug, glancing over at Chris, who's looking at them curiously. Peter gives Chris a look that means he'll tell him later. Stiles doesn't want to talk about her near-panic attack and that's fine, but he's still going to tell his husband when they are alone.
Stiles calls it a day after their ice cream, ruffling Caleb's hair and heading down to her apartment. Caleb is still working on his ice cream and looks up at his dads curiously.
"Papa, what's a tramp?"
Peter nearly chokes on his spoon. Chris reaches over and pats him on the back until he stops coughing.
"Where did you hear that word?" Chris asks.
"The mean kid's mom called Stiles a tramp," Caleb says. "What is it?"
"That's a bad word," Chris says. "It wasn't nice of her to call Stiles that."
Peter really wishes he knew who this kid was. He would love to have a talk with his mother even more now.
"Why'd she say it?"
"I don't know," Chris says. "But don't ever say it okay? It's very mean."
"Okay," Caleb says, easily accepting it. They've been luckily in that regard. Caleb picks up a lot, but he doesn't seem to be a fan of bad words, always being more offended to hear them than wanting to use them again.
They spend the rest of the night cuddled together on the couch, mindful of Caleb's wrist. Peter's wolf is whining in his head at the thought of his injured son and he has to keep reminding himself that it's just a sprain and he should be fine in a week. When Stiles had called and said they were in the hospital, Peter had wanted to shed his human skin and run all the way in his wolf form. Chris had had to calm him down, remind him that driving would be faster. It had put the wolf on edge to be confined in the car while their son was hurt, but he'd known Chris was right. He envies his husband's ability to compartmentalize. Chris has tried to teach him how, but Peter can't manipulate his emotions like that. He wishes he could.
After they put Caleb to bed, Peter and Chris collapse into their own bed, exhausted from traveling and from the drama of the afternoon. Chris pulls Peter close and the two men wrap themselves around each other.
"Stiles thought she was going to get fired," Peter tells Chris.
He can feel Chris frown.
"Why? Because Caleb got hurt?" Chris asks.
"Yes," Peter says. "I told her it isn't her fault and she calmed down, but I didn't realize she was wound so tightly."
"I'd suggest her taking a vacation, but I don't want her to think we're telling her we don't want her around," Chris says.
"That's my thinking, too," Peter says.
"We'll figure it out tomorrow," Chris says.
Peter nuzzles into Chris' neck, humming quietly and letting the scent of his husband lull him to sleep.
Chris notices some changes in Peter's behavior after that. Nothing huge, just little things. He'll be sure to put a pot of Stiles' favorite coffee on before he leaves in the morning so she has something to wake up to. He'll bring back too much takeout for Chris, Caleb, and himself, inviting Stiles to join them. He'll bring back a cookie from a nice bakery for Stiles for no reason.
"You realize you're doing courting behavior, right?" Chris asks.
"I'm just being nice," Peter says. "Don't you wonder when the last time was that she was the one taken care of?"
"Yes, I do," Chris says. "But I think she might notice a wolf striving to provide for her."
"I'm doing a nice thing, I thought you'd be proud that I'm growing as an individual," Peter says. "Aw, are you jealous?"
"I'm not telling you to stop," Chris says. "I'm just pointing out something you might not have realized."
"Well I appreciate you pointing it out, but I am well aware," Peter says.
And well, Chris just can't leave it alone. He starts doing things too. He changes Stiles' oil, replaces her timing belt, and refuses to take payment when she offers. He insists it's no trouble at he just wants her safe. His worry that she would think he and Peter are hitting on her seems to be unfounded and she just looks confused that people are doing nice things for her. It makes him angry a little bit that the people in her life don't do the simple things that take he and Peter about five minutes (it's not hard to bring someone home a doughnut). Stiles deserves it.
Caleb's wrist heals up quickly and soon, it's Peter's spring break. He has to work a bit to get ready for new classes but really, he'd much rather spend time with his family. They give Stiles the week off, but still invite her to spend time with them. She takes a few days to visit her dad and friends, but is back Wednesday night to watch Finding Dory with them. They're just settling down when Peter's phone rings.
"Go ahead and start without me," Peter says, standing and walking to his and Chris' office. It's Talia and unfortunately, that means he actually has to answer.
"Hello, Talia," Peter says pleasantly.
"Hello Peter," Talia says, just as cordially. "I'm just calling to let you know we'll be stopping by on Friday."
'Stopping by' always means 'invading your home for hours until we finally leave'.
"So nice of you to ask," Peter says dryly.
"We're driving Derek down to San Francisco to look at colleges," Talia continues, like Peter hadn't even spoken. "And you haven't been up in a while."
"I've been busy. I have a job and a family," Peter reminds her.
"You're still part of this pack. That was the deal. You remain a pack member to keep you from going omega, but we still need to check in with you. You've missed the last three full moon gatherings," Talia says. "This isn't open for discussion. We're coming to see you."
"Can't wait," Peter says.
Peter hangs up before Talia can say anything else and breathes harshly through his nose. It's not that he doesn't love his family, he does, but having a house full of Hales isn't how he wanted to spend his vacation. Granted, it's only one day, but not having the option to say no grates on him. Hopefully it's just Talia and Derek, but Peter somehow doubts they won't be hauling at least two more. Peter hopes one is Cora.
Peter knows he's lucky. Most packs wouldn't allow a member to live two hours away, and definitely wouldn't allow a wolf to be married to an ex-hunter, but Talia had mostly taken it in stride and told him to check in with them often, that they still wanted to see him as much as they can. And yes, Peter has been shirking his pack duties. He still doesn't like having them invite themselves into his home.
The sight that greets him upon returning to the family room makes his heart swell a bit. Caleb is in Stiles' lap, watching the movie with rapt attention. Chris is pressed close to Stiles' side, his arm over the back of the couch. It's a position they've all gotten used to. Caleb likes them all to be close when they're watching a movie (if Peter didn't know any better, he'd swear Caleb were a wolf) and that includes Stiles, who usually ends up sandwiched between the two men. Chris looks at him curiously when he walks back in and takes his seat on the other side of Stiles, but Peter just shakes his head and mouths 'later'.
As he usually does, Caleb falls asleep before the movie is over. Stiles carries him upstairs to get ready for bed (Peter and Chris protest that they can do it, but Stiles says she doesn't mind), giving Peter a chance to talk to Chris.
"Talia is coming down Friday," Peter says heavily.
"You said yes?" Chris asks, surprised.
"She didn't really give me much of a choice," Peter admits. Chris frowns. "She's right. I haven't been to any pack functions lately. It's just for a few hours on their way through. We'll make lunch and talk for a bit and I'm sure it'll be fine."
"I still don't like how she orders you around," Chris says.
"It's part of being in a pack, Christopher. Believe me, it could be a lot worse," Peter says.
Chris still doesn't look happy, but Peter doesn't expect him to. He's never really understood pack politics or instincts, as much as Peter has tried to explain. There are some things that you just can't teach humans.
"I'm going to head to bed," Stiles says, coming back into the room. "I'll see you guys tomorrow?"
"Wait, can we talk to you for a second?" Peter asks.
"Sure?" Stiles says warily, sitting on the sectional a few feet from them.
"It's nothing bad," Peter assures her. "It's that my sister, my alpha, is coming into town Friday and will be here."
"Oh,"Stiles says, surprised. "Uh, yay?"
Peter snorts. "She wants to check in and see us," Peter says. "I'd like it if you were there too if you're free. We're going to just have lunch and hopefully they'll leave soon."
"Are you guys not on good terms?" Stiles asks, frowning. Then her eyes widen. "That's really personal, wow I'm sorry, ignore that."
Peter waves away her concern. "It's fine," he says. "We are, it's just unexpected and I haven't prepared anything. But you're our nanny, you're basically part of the family now, and I'd like her to meet you."
"Oh, well, yeah, of course," Stiles says. "I mean, if she pops in again, which I assume she will, I should know who she is, right?"
"Right," Peter says. "I'm not sure when she'll be in yet, I'll let you know."
"Do you need help with anything? Cooking, watching Caleb?" she asks.
"No, you're going to be a guest, not a worker that day," Peter says. "It's still your day off, so you're welcome to say no if you don't want to or have other plans."
"No, I'm totally in. I don't get to watch other werewolves interact that much," Stiles says. "Scott's pack is kind of a motley bunch."
"That's another thing," Peter says. "I think it would probably be better if Talia doesn't know that you're aware of werewolves. She gets very...protective."
"And you think she'd hurt me," Stiles finishes.
"I don't want to say that, but I don't know how she'll react," Peter says honestly.
"She isn't a bad person," Chris says. "She's just very, very protective of her people."
"Okay," Stiles says easily. "That's fine with me."
"Thank you," Peter says, sagging in relief. "I love my sister, but she's very good at causing stress."
Chris rubs a hand over Peter's back soothingly.
"It'll be fine," Chris says.
Stiles actually had had plans with Scott for Friday, but she would much rather do this. She meant it when she said she didn't get to see werewolves interact much. Scott True Alpha McCall didn't have a werewolf mentor, he and Stiles pretty much figured it out as they went. So when he suddenly found himself with Liam and Isaac, his two betas, he kind of made up his pack rules on the fly. They have a basic structure, but there's nothing formal and they don't interact with other packs much. Watching Peter is fascinating enough, but seeing real born wolves and pack interaction is going to be fascinating.
Peter is, as Melissa McCall would say, in a tizzy. He's running around the house making sure the food is ready, that the house is clean, that Caleb is ready. It would make Stiles laugh if he weren't so obviously stressed. She wants to take him aside and try to get him to just breathe, but at exactly 11:30, the doorbell rings. Peter grimaces and goes to answer it, leaving Chris and Stiles alone in the living room, Caleb happily playing on the rug.
"I've never seen him like this," Stiles says.
"Talia gets him like this sometimes," Chris says quietly so the wolves at the door wouldn't hear. "And I think he wants them to make a good impression on you."
"Me? Why?" Stiles asks.
"We like you, Stiles," Chris says with a small smile. "We want you to be happy here. I think he's under the impression that his family might chase you away."
Stiles rolls her eyes but can't deny she's pleased.
"I am happy here," she says honestly.
"I'm glad," Chris says.
Stiles doesn't have time to analyze the warm feeling she gets from how he smiles at her because then a regal woman is walking into the room, followed by Peter and three teenagers that look a great deal like her. There's a boy with thick eyebrows that looks a little surly and maybe 18, a girl who looks to be maybe 19 with thick brown hair, and a younger girl with dark hair and sharp eyes that Stiles would put at 14 or 15.
"Talia," Chris says, shaking her hand. Stiles raises an eyebrow at that. He hugs the kids though, so there's that at least.
"Chris, so good to see you," Talia says with a smile.
"Stiles," Peter says, drawing her forward. "This is my sister, Talia and her children. The oldest is Laura, then that's Derek, and Cora is the youngest. This is Stiles, she's Caleb's nanny."
"It's nice to meet you, Stiles," Talia says pleasantly. She offers her hand for Stiles to shake. Her grip is tight, but Stiles' is, too.
"You, too," Stiles says. Stiles greets the kids, shaking their hands, too, which earns her some surprised looks, but she remembers being that age and meeting new people. She remembers being looked over and treated like she wasn't as smart and she doesn't want to do that to anyone.
"Caleb, look who's here," Peter calls.
"Auntie Talia!" Caleb shouts.
Caleb jumps up and runs into the room, crashing into Talia's legs. Talia laughs and picks him up, hugging him tightly.
"There's my nephew! How are you?" she asks.
"Good!" Caleb says.
He wiggles out of her grip to fling himself at Derek, then Laura, and Cora. Stiles tries not to snort at the unsubtle scenting on the kids' parts. Peter looks a little pained, like he's thinking the same thing.
Lunch is loud. Caleb is excitedly telling the Hales about seemingly everything that has ever happened to him. They're good enough to nod along and ask questions enthusiastically, even Derek (Stiles figures out he just has resting bitch face and is actually a big softie). Derek excitedly tells them about his school plans, that he wants to take after Peter and go into English. Stiles doesn't have it in her to dim his excitement about it with the reality of the job market.
Stiles thinks everything might actually go well. Peter seems more relaxed as time goes on and by the time the all move into the living room, it seems like everything is going to be fine. Derek and Laura are playing on the ground with Caleb and Chris is having a very animated discussing with Cora about Krav Maga. Peter and Talia are talking quietly, but neither look upset. Stiles excuses herself to the restroom, content in knowing that nothing is going to explode in the time she's gone.
When she's done, Talia is waiting outside the door.
"Oh, sorry," Stiles says, stepping aside so Talia can use the restroom. But Talia stays where she is.
"My family is very important to me, Stiles," Talia says.
"Okay," Stiles says. "Well, good for you?"
"And I will do anything necessary to protect them," she continues. She examines her nails carefully, and Stiles can see the claws threatening to break through. She considers shouting for Peter but she knows if Talia really wants to hurt her, there's no way Peter will get here in time.
"Uh, good," Stiles says, inching to the side to try and get back to the living room.
Talia's having none of it. She reaches out, claws grazing Stiles' throat. Stiles goes very still and refuses to bare her neck.
"Tell me. How is Scott McCall these days?" Talia asks.
Stiles curses under her breath because of course Talia, alpha of one of the largest packs on the west coast, has heard of True Alpha Scott McCall.
"Get your alpha claws away from my squishy veins," she growls, impressed with herself. That's when she hears a glass shatter in the living room.
Peter hears Stiles say, "Get your alpha claws away from my squishy veins," and his mind blanks. He drops the glass of water he'd been holding, sending glass everywhere and making everyone jump. Derek immediately picks up Caleb to keep him away from glass shards but he barely notices. He's running out of the room, a confused Chris hot on his heels. What he sees in the hall makes his heart stop. Talia has a clawed hand around Stiles' throat, their faces inches apart.
"Talia!" Peter says. "Stop!"
"Stay in the living room," Chris says and Peter is grateful that he's dealing with Caleb, Cora, Laura, and Derek.
"This little nanny of your has pack ties to the true alpha," she says.
"I know," Peter says, which is half-true. He'd known that Stiles' best friend was bitten, but not that he was the true alpha everyone has been talking about.
Talia looks over at him in shock.
"And you didn't think to tell me?" Talia asks.
"My nanny is none of your business," Peter says.
"And as lovely as this conversation is, Talia, I'm going to have to insist that you let go of Stiles, now," Chris says.
Talia's claws are leaving indents in Stiles' skin, dangerously close to breaking skin. Well, Peter thinks, there goes a perfectly good nanny. Stiles is never going to want to stay with them after this, not after being assaulted by his sister.
"I think we need to chat a bit more," Talia says.
"What I think," Peter says loudly, "is that you're in my house and threatening someone who I care about and you need to back off, now."
"I am the alpha here," Talia says, but she's looking unsure, like she finally realizes she may have crossed a line.
"And you're leaving now," Chris says. "You're not welcome in our home."
"I will let him tase you," Peter says.
Talia huffs and lets go. Stiles scuttles backwards, putting as much space between her and Talia as she can.
"I wasn't going to hurt her," Talia says,
"She's bleeding," Peter growls. "Leave."
"Peter," Talia says with a sigh, like Peter is being purposefully difficult.
"Leave," Peter growls.
Talia sighs again and pushes past Peter and Chris. Peter can hear her saying goodbye to Caleb and gathering her kids. He'd see her out to make sure she goes, but he can hear her leave. They're all quiet until the front door slams.
"Stiles," Peter says quietly.
"I have to go," Stiles says, skirting around Peter and Chris. Peter can hear her run down the stairs to her apartment and close to door behind her. Peter exhales harshly and rubs a hand down his face.
"Will you go talk to her? Make sure the cuts aren't too deep? I don't know if she'd want to be around a werewolf right now," Peter says.
"Are you okay?" Chris asks.
"No," Peter says. "But it's not about me right now."
"Papa? Dad?" Caleb says, rounding the corner. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, kiddo," Peter says.
Caleb frowns at the lie.
"Papa," Caleb says as sternly as a two-and-a-half-year-old can.
"I'll tell you when you're older," Peter says. "Come on, let's go work on a coloring book."
Peter takes Caleb's hand and leads him out, giving Chris a pointed look. He doesn't know if they have any chance at keeping Stiles as their nanny, but he has a feeling Chris has a better chance of being rational right now. The smell of her blood made Peter's wolf want to go crazy and he doesn't trust that he wouldn't lick it off of her right now. So, coloring books it is.
Chris knocks on the door to Stiles' rooms five minutes later, an armful of first aid supplies in his hands. There's no answer, so he knocks harder. He knows Stiles is in there, her car still is in the driveway and neither he nor Peter heard her leave. He waits a respectable amount of time before knocking a third time. The door swings open and Stiles is standing there, eyebrows raised.
"Yes?" she asks.
Chris holds up the supplies.
"I'm here in peace," he says.
Stiles huffs and lets him in, closing and locking the door behind him. Chris follows her into the kitchen where there's better lighting. She hops up onto the counter and pulls her hair up and out of the way. Chris is disturbed at how practiced it is, like she's used to having injuries looked at. Chris steps closer between her legs to peer at her neck. The claw marks aren't deep enough to turn her, but they're still bleeding sluggishly and it's obvious she did the bare minimum of washing them off with water.
"Are you okay?" Chris asks softly as he goes to work. He dabs a bit of antiseptic on each of the the claw marks, making Stiles wince a little. "Sorry."
"Fine," Stiles says. "It's just be a while since I've had claws at my neck. It's not something I've missed."
"I'm sorry," Chris says. "We never would have asked you to be there if we'd known she'd act like that."
"You're sorry?" Stiles asks. "Okay first, it's her fault not yours. Second, you mean I'm not fired?"
"Why would you be fired?" Chris asks, looking away from her neck to meet her eyes.
"For not telling you guys my best friend is that true alpha?" Stiles asks.
Chris shakes his head, smiling slightly. "You're too worried about being fired. Peter told you, we like you, Stiles," Chris says. He tilts her head back with a finger under her chin so he can apply a salve to the claw marks. "Your friendships are your own business. If anything, I'm surprised you aren't quitting."
"Well, getting clawed up isn't my idea of a good time," Stiles says. "But it's not your fault."
"She's our family. We put you in harm's way," Chris points out.
"Yeah, but it wasn't your claws digging into my throat," Stiles says.
"All done," Chris says as he finishes the last of the marks and pulls back just enough so he can look at her. Their faces are so close and he's still standing between her spread legs. In another situation, Chris might think about kissing her, but all he wants right now is to know she's okay.
"Would you really have tasered her?" Stiles asks quietly.
"Yes," Chris says instantly.
"She's your sister-in-law," Stiles says.
"I don't care," Chris says. And he doesn't. He will happily taser anyone who puts hands, or claws, on Stiles.
"Thank you," she says quietly.
She leans forward, like she wants to hug him but isn't sure if she's allowed. Chris makes up her mind for her, wrapping her slender frame up in his arms, careful not to nudge her tender throat. Stiles locks her arms tightly around him and lets out a shuddering breath, the tension draining from her body. Chris rubs circles on her back, hoping he can at least be of some comfort.
"Will you tell Peter I'm not mad at him?" she asks when she pulls back.
"Do you want me to send him down?" Chris asks.
"Is he okay to? He seemed mad," Stiles says.
"Not at you," Chris assures her. "When he's done coloring with Caleb I'll let him know, okay?"
"Okay," Stiles says.
Chris takes a step back from her, though he's not happy to, and heads back to the door.
"Thanks again," Stiles says.
"Anytime," Chris says, though he hopes she doesn't need it for a long time.
Peter's hesitant when he knocks on Stiles' door. She's never shown any sign of being afraid of him because he's a werewolf, but that could change when an alpha had literal claws to her throat. Stiles lets him in and leads him over to the couch, sitting next to him like there's nothing wrong.
"I'm not mad at you, please don't be weird," she said.
"Well, that's a way to get a man's attention," Peter says.
Stiles smiles slightly.
"I'm serious," she says. "I've had way worse things happen to me. I don't hold you responsible for your sister's actions. I'm not mad at you."
"I'm mad at me," Peter says.
"My wolf is very...protective," Peter says slowly. "Possessive. It doesn't like people hurting what mine and it's come to think of you like that."
"Oh," Stiles says softly. "I'm okay, Peter." Peter looks pointedly at her neck. "Okay, well I'm not gravely injured."
"It's still enough to put me on edge," Peter says. "And I don't want to scare you."
"You don't," Stiles says. "Peter, my teenage years were...really hard, okay? I've dealt with rogue hunters and kanimas and angry baby werewolves and...just trust me, okay? You don't scare me."
"Hearing that you've been in harm's way is hardly reassuring," Peter says. "But okay."
"And I'm sorry, too," Stiles says. "I probably should have told you about Scott."
"It's sensitive information, I don't blame you for not divulging it," Peter says.
"So you're not mad at me either?" Stiles asks hopefully.
"Not at all, dear one," Peter says.
"So we're both just worrying for nothing?"
"So it would seem."
Stiles sags in relief. She takes his hand and squeezes it lightly before letting go.
"I really like working here," she says softly.
"We really like having you," Peter replies, equally as quietly.
He loves the smile that earns him.
Things go back to normal relatively quickly, all of them happy to put the incident behind them. School starts up again for Peter and Chris gets a new contract at work, so both of them tend to bring their work home with them. Neither of them come home early for weeks, but one of them always is sure to be home when her shift is over, not wanting to take advantage of her time. Odds are though, when one is home on time, the other will be home late.
Stiles does her best, but Caleb notices the absences and his temper tantrums get worse. Things get thrown, she gets yelled at, it's a mess. She goes to bed most nights completely exhausted and almost dreading what the next day will bring. And she hates that because overall, she loves her job. It's just a bad spell, she reminds herself. It'll be fine.
She's puttering around before bed, clad in just a tank top and short shorts one night when she realizes the book she's been reading is still upstairs. She groans dramatically because the idea of walking upstairs is apparently just too much for her. It's almost midnight and she's sure everyone is already asleep, so she'll have to be quiet. She doesn't bother with a robe because whatever, they'll be in bed.
Stiles creeps up the stairs as quietly as possible, avoiding the stair that squeaks, and making her way to the kitchen where she's pretty sure her book is still on the counter. She freezes right outside the living room at the sound of a shifting body. She slowly peeks around the corner, positive that she's about to see a burglar (which in hindsight is stupid, she knows how intense Chris' security system is) and her jaw drops.
The living room is dark but she can still make out Peter lounging on the couch, Chris on his knees between his legs. Chris swallows Peter down, moaning as he does so. Peter's hand is in Chris' hair, encouraging the other man to go deeper. Peter gasps out Chris' name and Stiles really shouldn't be watching, she should immediately turn around and go downstairs, but she can't tear her eyes away. There's warmth gathering between her thighs and she squeezes her legs together, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure.
That's when Peter's eyes open slowly and rest right on her. Fuck, of course he knows she's here. He can hear her pounding heart rate, and probably smell her growing arousal. Stiles blushes bright red but before she can turn to go, Peter moans, maintaining eye contact with her, as Chris takes Peter's length into his throat. She's rooted to the spot by his stare, by the heat in Peter's eyes and it's not until Peter closes his eyes as he comes that she can move.
Stiles doesn't try to be quiet, just runs for the stairs and down into her rooms. She's sure they can hear the door closing behind her but she doesn't care, Peter will tell Chris she was there anyway. And shit, she's soaked through her panties just from that, just from seeing and hearing them together. Her clit is pulsing between her thighs and she just needs to touch herself. She doesn't even make it to her bedroom, just collapses on the couch and dips a hand into her shorts.
She slides two of her her fingers inside herself easily, gathering the wetness seeping out of her before rubbing at her clit. The little nub is already hard and pulsing and it only takes a few minutes rubbing herself until she's at the edge. She imagines what it would be like if it were her on her knees for Peter instead of Chris. If Chris were at her back while she blows Peter. If Chris were to push into her, fuck her harder onto Peter's cock until she's gagging.
Stiles comes with a cry, her empty cunt clenching around nothing as her orgasm rips through her. She's sure Peter could hear her but she doesn't care. He knows she was aroused, he knows what she saw. He doesn't seem embarrassed at all and she refuses to be. Stiles sucks the taste of herself off her fingers before standing on shaking legs. Orgasms help her sleep better than reading does, anyway.
"She saw us, Christopher," Peter purrs as he takes Chris' cock in his hand. He's just come down his husband's throat and he's yearning to make Chris feel as good as he did. Chris' eyes fly open.
"What, Peter - ah!" Chris groans. He can't hide how his scent blossomed with arousal upon hearing that, or deny the way his cock jumped in Peter's hand. "Peter..."
"She was turned on," Peter says. "I could smell it, smell how wet she was getting because of us."
"She - "
"She's touching herself right now," Peter goes on. Chris groans. "I can hear her sweet little noises. She'd sound so good gasping out your name as she rode you."
"I'm close," Chris gasps out.
"I know, love," Peter purrs. "Come on, come for me Chris."
Chris comes over Peter's hand, gasping out another name in addition to Peter's.
Stiles is expecting the next day to be awkward. Maybe they won't make eye contact, maybe they won't speak, but Chris greets her the same way he does every morning. Peter gives her a lingering look but says nothing. She thinks maybe they'll talk about it later that night when Chris and Peter sit her down at the table. What she isn't expecting is to be told they're going on a cruise.
"We'd be happy if you would come," Chris says. "An old client of mine is retiring and wants to do this as his grand farewell. I would be working some of the time. You would be paid, of course, for your work."
"Uh, yeah, that sounds great," Stiles says because of course she's not going to turn down a seven night cruise to Mexico? "When?"
"Next week," Chris says. "Peter only has one week of break left before summer classes start."
"Wow, that's soon. Okay, yeah, definitely, thank you," Stiles says.
"Thank you," Peter says. "We know it's late notice, but you'll be doing us a huge favor."
So they're ignoring the whole night before, then. All right, perfect. Stiles can do that. Totally. She won't picture it happening every night. Of course not.
Their cruise leaves out of San Francisco, so they don't have long of a drive to get there. Chris had spared no expense, so they are with the VIP passengers that get to board first. Their rooms are actually a big suite with a room for Peter and Chris, and two attached rooms for Caleb and Stiles. Stiles' jaw drops when she sees them and she actually seems surprised to have her own room.
"Did you think we were going to make you sleep on the couch?"
"I don't know, maybe?" Stiles says.
They spend the first day exploring the ship. There's a pool, a rock climbing wall, a theater, even a mini casino. Stiles eyes the buffet excitedly when they pass by, making Chris chuckle. They dine with Chris' client that night, a man in his late sixties. With him are his two sons in their teens, both who leer at Stiles in a way that makes Chris decidedly unhappy, and his third wife, a woman not much older than his two sons. They all take it in stride, having seen stranger family dynamics before.
Caleb gets fussy after dinner so Stiles offers to take him back to the room, giving Chris and Peter some time alone. They hit the casino, Peter going immediately for the blackjack table. Chris follows, amused. Peter seems to be harboring the belief that being a werewolf gives him an edge to gambling. It doesn't. He still loses a lot of the time, spectacularly too. He makes it through barely five hands before he's out of money. He huffs gets up, only to withdraw more money from a nearby ATM and hit the penny slots.
"You're going to end up broke," Chris warns.
"Not at all, darling," Peter drawls. "I know exactly what I'm doing."
"You're going to blast through this money with nothing to show for it," Chris says.
"Wanna bet? Peter asks.
"Absolutely," Chris says.
"$50," Peter says.
"If you win, I give you $50. If I win, you have to wear that hideous Hawaiian shirt we saw in the gift shop window," Chris says.
Peter narrows his eyes.
Peter loses. Chris buys the shirt on the way back to the room. Peter pouts for the rest of the night.
Chris has to work most of the next day, so Peter and Stiles take Caleb up to the pool deck. Peter's so busy getting Caleb's swim floaties on that he misses Stiles stripping out of her sarong and t-shirt. He looks over and she's in nothing but a tiny black bikini with the Avengers logo over one breast. Her body is lithe and trim, more muscled that he would have expected. He loves it.
"Papa. Papa!" Caleb says, like he's been trying to get Peter's attention for a long time.
"Yes, sorry," Peter says, turning back to Caleb. "Ready to go in the water?"
"Yes!" Caleb says. "Stiles, come on!"
Caleb loves the water. He's been swimming before but there's something about the clear blue of the pool that has him shrieking in delight. Peter's worried there are going to be complaints, but there are enough kids in the water that no one minds around screaming kid. Peter's sensitive hearing hates it, but it's a small price to pay for time with his son and Stiles.
Caleb gets tired after about an hour of swimming, longer than Peter had thought he'd make it, so he climbs out and sits on one of the sun chairs Stiles has commandeered for them. Stiles stays in the water a bit longer, swimming laps until it gets too crowded that she keeps bumping into people.
Peter almost dies when she pulls herself out of the water. Her bikini-clad body is dripping with water, glistening in the sun. He's had female lovers before, he's well-versed in the female body, but there's something about hers that's torturing him. Even the way she dries off goes straight to his groin. Stiles stretches out on the chair next to Peter, her long legs spread a bit for the most even tan.
Peter tries not to stare, but she catches him a few times. She looks down at herself, confused, and asks if there's something on her. Peter lies and says there was a fly. He's going to die.
Stiles is having the time of her life. It's been five days of summer and sun. When they get to Mexico, they're able to get off the boat and walk around the port city. Peter buys her a necklace she's eyeing, despite her telling him not to, and reaches around her neck to put it on her. She blushes brilliantly and hopes it isn't visible through the glare of the sun.
The food is amazing and the locals are so nice. Stiles is having a hard time wanting to go back to the ship when they're done, but Caleb is getting cranky after such a long day and Stiles' feet are starting to hurt (she shouldn't have worn flip flops to walk around in).
The next day, Peter comes out of his room wearing an absolutely ridiculous Hawaiian shirt.
"Oh my god," Stiles says.
"I know," Peter says with a grimace.
"No, I mean, oh my god."
"I lost a bet, okay?"
"This is amazing!"
"No, it really isn't."
"Chris is brilliant."
"Chris is cruel."
"Chris is proud," Chris says, walking out of the bedroom after Peter.
"I can see why," Stiles says, grinning.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Peter grumbles. "I make this look good."
"That's because the only other people wearing that are 60," Stiles says.
Peter throws a pillow at her.
Chris doesn't have to work for the rest of the cruise, so all three of them take Caleb swimming again on the last day, then go to lunch later. Stiles is extremely pleased at how Chris and Peter keep sneaking looks at her when she's in nothing but her bikini. She feigns ignorance, asking if she has something on her, but they just stammer a bit that no, she's fine. Suave men, indeed.
Stiles' ovaries explode seeing them with their son. She's nannied for a lot of families, living with about half of them, and most of the parents don't care about their kids nearly as much as Chris and Peter do. To most of the families she'd worked for, a nanny is a way to keep your kid out from underfoot. They didn't want to deal with their children and dreaded when they would come home and take over the parenting duties.
Chris and Peter aren't like that. The relish the time with their son. They love him so much, and pay attention to him, and are so good with him that it just makes Stiles feel like her ovaries are going to explode. She snaps a picture of them, Caleb held in Peter's arm with Chris next to him. Peter's pointing up at the birds and Chris is laughing his fingers wiggling next to Caleb's. Stiles grins into her phone, her heart clenching. It's a beautiful family.
Dinner that night is at one of the fancier restaurants on the ship. Chris still doesn't let Peter take off the Hawaiian shirt. Stiles offers to take Caleb back to the room when he's done eating and starts getting cranky, but Chris says he'll do it and leaves her and Peter to finish dinner. The fish is delicious, and the wine is perfect, and Peter is getting more and more relaxed, comfortable talking to Stiles more about herself.
"Tell me," Peter asks. "Does working with kids ever make you want them?
"Oh totally, I want kids for sure," Stiles says. "At least two. I didn't like being an only child, I got into a lot of shit."
"I believe that," Peter says. Stiles nudges him with her elbow. "Any luck on that? Boyfriends that are father material?"
Stiles snorts into her wine.
"No way," she says. "I haven't even been on a date in over a year."
"I find that very hard to believe," Peter says.
"It's true. I tend to attract...interesting men and women," Stiles says.
"Oh?" Peter asks.
"One was a rougarou. Another was a darach," Stiles says. Peter stares at her. "I'm not kidding," she says.
"I, for once, am not sure what to say," Peter says.
"Well that's a first," Stiles teases.
Chris and Peter are getting ready for bed that night when Peter says, "I want to move forward with Stiles."
Chris pinches the bridge of his nose and says, "You're telling me you want to fuck the nanny?"
"Don't be ridiculous, it's nothing as stereotypical as that, Christopher. This isn't porn. I want to seduce her," Peter says.
"And when does that ever go well? What happens when it's too awkward and she quits? What will we tell Caleb why Stiles is suddenly gone?" Chris says.
Peter waves away his concern. "That won't happen."
"What makes you say that?"
"She wants us, too. I can smell it."
"So? You don't know if she wants us for just one night, or if she wants us for long term. You have no idea what's going through her mind and this is just a one way ticket to a sexual harassment lawsuit," Chris says.
But Peter just waves his concern off and goes back to getting undressed..
"Don't tell me you haven't seen how she looks at us. How easily she fits with us, like she's already part of our family," Peter says. He kneels on the bed, naked as the day he was born. "Don't tell me you don't want her, too."
"I do," Chris admits quietly. He's tried not to, he has a husband, damn it, but he does want her. And not just for a night, though he wouldn't say no to that. He wants all of her.
Being back from the cruise is weird. Stiles walks around for two days a little off kilter, like she's expecting to be walking like she did on the ship. Add that to her usual clumsiness and she's lucky she hasn't broken anything, either her bones or her phone. Her conversation with Peter has weighed on her mind though. She really does want kids. She always has. Ideally, she wants to be pregnant by the time she's 30. She doesn't necessarily have to be married first, never having cared much about if she gets married or not, but she ideally wants to know the father for a while before they jump into having kids together. She's 26 and she barely dates. She knows she has time, but she really thinks maybe she should get a move on.
Funnily enough, right when they get back, she gets a Facebook request from Theo Raeken, a kid she went to elementary school with and wow, he grew up nicely. They chat for a few days, then exchange numbers, then Theo asks her out for drinks. Normally she's more cautious about people, normally she'd hesitate, but it's been so long since she's been out with someone and so long since anything but her toys have been between her legs.
The bar they go to isn't far from home, a place Peter had mentioned he and Chris used to frequent, so she figures it can't be too bad. It's clean, has darts and pool, so she's sold. At first, Theo is perfectly charming. He holds the door open for her, they have pleasant conversation. And it takes Stiles all of five minutes to figure out he isn't human. She doesn't know what tips her off, but she knows. The thing is, she's sure he isn't a werewolf, either. She has no idea what he is.
She doesn't like the way he starts to look at her after a few drinks. It's beyond leering, it's almost like she's a juicy steak that he wants to devour, and not in a way she's looking forward to. He keeps touching her hand, leaning into her personal space. Still, he could be just bad with alcohol, Stiles thinks. Stiles suggests they play a game of pool, maybe moving around will sober him up a bit, maybe he won't be trying to touch her as much.
Pool is an awful idea. Theo keeps coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her, trying to show her how to hold the cue. Stiles knows how to play pool, thank you very much. She's had enough when Theo tries to corner her when she takes a sip of her drink and slip his hand up her shirt. She jams to pool cue into his stomach until he's falling backward with an off, clutching to the side of the table.
"You bitch!" he hisses.
"Yeah, that's me," Stiles says.
Stiles walks past him. She's had enough to drink that she shouldn't drive, but that's fine, they're close enough to the house that she can just walk the mile or so home. She makes it to the parking lot to see Peter and Chris climbing out of Chris' SUV.
"Hey," she says, confused.
Both of their eyes widen and she doesn't need Chris' shout out, "Stiles, drop!" to drop to a crouch on the ground. She's just in time, Theo's fist swings right over her, where her head had been seconds before. Chris is past her in a second, his taser baton out, and he shoves Theo in to the side of the building, jabbing him with the electric baton.
"Stiles," Peter says, crouching at her side. Stiles looks at him with wide eyes. Peter takes her arm and gently pulls her up until they're standing. "There we go."
Peter wraps his arm around Stiles, pulling her body in close to his. They both watch as Chris slams the butt of the taser into Theo's nose before holding it to his throat.
"Listen to me and stop whining," Chris growls. The little noises Theo had been making stop immediately. "If I ever see you again, I kill you. If you come near Stiles again, I kill you. If she ever hears from you again, I will kill you. Do you understand me?"
Theo gasps out what must be a yes, though it's hard to tell with Chris cutting off his air supply.
"Good," Chris says.
He drops Theo, who scrambles away and into his nearby car. He speeds off without looking back at them.
"Fuck," Stiles groans, pressing her face against Peter's shoulder. "Well, that was fifty shades of fucking awful."
"Are you okay?" Chris asks.
Stiles opens her eyes to see Chris right in front of her. He takes her face in his hands, gently looking her over for injury.
"I'm okay," she says quietly.
"Good," Chris says. "Come on, let's get you home."
"What were you doing here?" Stiles asks, sliding into the back seat. To her surprise, Peter slides in with her. He wraps his arm back around her shoulders, tucking her securely into his side. Stiles appreciates it, because without him she might fly apart.
"Caleb is with Mrs. Richards tonight," Peter says, rubbing his thumb over her shoulder. "We were going to have a night out."
Stiles' stomach drops. Mrs. Richards, the older neighbor lady, takes Caleb overnight sometimes if Peter and Chris was a nice night out when they don't have to come home too early. And she ruined that. Fuck.
"I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't mean to - "
"Hey, none of that," Peter says firmly. "Nothing that happened tonight is your fault."
"We're happy to do it," Chris says. "If he comes near you again, let me know."
"Would you really have killed him?" Stiles asks.
They're at a stop light so Chris is able to make eye contact with her through the rear view mirror.
"Yes," he says. He says it with such surety, with no trace of hesitation.
"And if he wouldn't, I would," Peter says.
Stiles nods, because what do you say to two men who are willing to kill for you? She snuggles closer into Peter's side, leeching the warmth he gives off.
Stiles lets Chris open her door for her and help her out of the SUV when they get home. She could easily have done it on her own, but she's still feel off balance and a little...not weak, but not necessarily at her best. She lets Chris wrap his warm hand around hers and not let go until Peter has opened the front door and ushers them inside. She's selfishly glad that Caleb is with Mrs. Richards because she can't handle a child right now, not when she's feeling like she is.
Peter leads them into the living room and Chris tugs Stiles to sit next to him on the couch. He finally lets go of her hand and she immediately misses the warmth. Peter looks at her with a small frown.
"I'm going to get you some water," he says, then leaves the room.
"I don't need - oh, you're gone, all right," Stiles says.
"Are you okay? Chris asks.
"Yeah, just peachy," Stiles says. Peter comes back into the room and hands her a bottle of water before settling on her other side. "Just, you know, ridiculously embarrassed that I ruined my bosses' date and they had to come to my rescue on mine."
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," Chris tells her.
"Oh my god I can't even get a real date with an attractive man, Jesus Christ on a pogo stick," Stiles says.
"That's not true, Stiles," Chris says firmly.
"Yeah, easy for you to say, you two have your attractive man already," she says. "I'm going to die alone surrounded by cats."
"Stop," Peter says. "Besides being remarkably intelligent and charming, you are also one of the most beautiful women I've ever met. All of these are traits that make you desirable to any man with eyes and half of a brain."
"So I just attract the brain dead, good," Stiles says sarcastically.
"Well, not only. Right, Christopher?" Peter purrs.
Instantly, the mood of the room shifts. Chris tenses next to Stiles, but he doesn't stop Peter putting his hand on her knee. He doesn't stop Peter from leaning in and nudging at her throat with his nose, dragging it up to her ear to whisper, "We find you very desirable, Stiles. And I know you want us, too."
"I - "
"Do you know what I told Chris after you saw us together?" Peter asks and Stiles feels a thrill of heat go through her at the mention of what she'd walked in on. "I told him I could smell your arousal. That I could hear you getting yourself off because of us. He came so hard thinking about you joining us."
"You can say no," Chris says, though his voice is deeper than normal. "You can tell us no. We aren't your employers right now."
And Stiles really should. She should maintain her professionalism, this isn't cheap porn, damn it, this is her job! But she doesn't want to.
"You liked that I saw you?" Stiles asks tentatively.
"Oh sweetheart, very much so," Peter says. He slides his hand farther up her thigh and nips at her ear.
"Y-you're okay with this?" she asks Chris. It's hard not to be distracted by Peter, but she needs to make sure that they're all on board. She's no one's homewrecker.
Chris has been holding himself tense until now, but he relaxes at her words, like he'd been waiting for her to push them away.
"Very," he says.
"He's so verbose," Peter laughs. "But he came hard and fast thinking about being inside of you."
Peter bites down on her neck and Stiles gasps. Chris' eyes darken and he moves in, cupping the side of her face and staring at her heavily. Neither move for a second, Stiles unsure if she'll break the mood if she speaks, then Chris is tugging her forward and away from Peter to kiss her soundly, full of skill and dominance. Stiles melts into it, letting Peter tug off her jacket as Chris licks into her mouth.
"We want you," Chris whispers against her lips. "All of you. And not just for tonight. Over and over again."
"Okay," Stiles whispers.
It's what Chris and Peter have been waiting for. They all but pounce on her. Chris goes back to kissing her, and Peter goes back to gently tugging at her clothes, undressing her. She has to break the kiss with Chris for Peter to tug her shirt over her head, but then the heat of his mouth is back at her throat, sucking what's sure to be a mark in the morning. She's glad she has concealer, she thinks wildly. Then she's nearly bare before them, in nothing but her bra and panties. It's hard not to cross her arms over her breasts self consciously, but Chris seems to know what she's thinking. In one smooth motion he pulls his shirt off and Stiles stares. She's seen shirtless men before, but there's something about the ruggedness of Chris that gets to her.
Stiles can't help but reach out to touch. She runs her hands up his stomach, marveling at the hard muscles beneath her fingers, at the way his muscles jump at her touch. She's so consumed in her exploration that she completely misses Peter taking off his shirt and pants, not noticing until his bare chest is pressed against her back.
"Beautiful, isn't he? He doesn't think so, of course, but I do my best to prove it to him," Peter purrs. Stiles shivers at his breath in her ear, then at his hands running up her sides. "Let us take care of you tonight, Stiles."
"All right," Stiles says shakily.
Peter tugs her back until she's lying on the couch, her body on display for them. Peter stares at her hungrily, his eyes briefly flashing, and it makes heat pulse between her thighs. He grins, like he knows what he's doing to her, which he probably does. Peter kneels at her feet, parting her legs and running his hands up to her thighs while Chris sits himself next to Stiles' head. A glance up at him shows his eyes dark and hungry just like Peter's. Hungry for her.
"Peter wants to taste you," Chris tells her. "He's been craving it. You smell so good to him, he needs to know what you taste like."
Peter hums in agreement and takes hold of the waistband of her panties, gently sliding them down her legs and tossing them to the side. He spreads her thighs wide, giving himself a clear view of her glistening cunt. Stiles fights not to close her legs in embarrassment. Her past lovers have never looked at her like this, like she's something precious, something to be desired and devoured. Chris seems to sense this and runs a hand down her shoulder to rest on her chest.
"We've got you," he promises.
She looks up at him, and that's when Peter chooses to run his tongue up her slit. Stiles cries out, arching into the touch. It's been so, so long since she's had someone do this for her, and Peter clearly knows what he's doing. He alternates between nibbling at her folds and giving her long, laving licks, then flicking his tongue over her clit quickly. She gasps when he points his tongue and pushes it as far into her opening as he can. Her hand flies up to grab at Chris, and he catches it in his own. He hums and kisses her fingers.
"That's it," he murmurs. "Just let Peter take care of you."
Peter's working her close to orgasm embarrassingly quickly, but it's been months since anything has been between her thighs but a toy, and she can't help it. She's soon crying out his name, her thighs closing around his head.
"Good, sweetheart, so good for us," Chris says as she gasps out Peter's name. Her heart's racing and she's shaking now.
Peter looks up at her, the lower half of his face covered in her juices and she groans, letting her head fall back against Chris' thigh. She watches as Peter rifles through his jeans pocket before producing a condom and raising his eyebrows at her in question. Stiles nods enthusiastically. Yes, she needs him in her, right now. She barely gets to watch Peter pull off his boxer briefs over his thick cock before Chris is distracting her. He unsnaps her bra and tosses is away before grasping her breasts firmly in his hands, massaging the flesh and flicking his thumbs over her nipples. Stiles keens and more wetness begins to seep out of her.
"Oh, are we a little sensitive?" Chris asks.
"Y-yes," Stiles gasps out.
Chris grins and twists her nipples right as Peter settles between her legs. Stiles screams out from the combination of the pain-pleasure in her nipples, and of Peter sliding his thick cock into her. She's so full, fuller than her dildo can make her. Peter is warm and solid inside her and she takes a deep breath trying to get used to it. Chris leans down to kiss each of her tender nipples, causing her cunt to ripple around Peter. They both groan at that and she clenches down harder on purpose, making Peter growl.
Peter fucks into her hard and fast and if it weren't for Chris' grip on her arms, she might have slid right off the couch. He's sure to grind his pelvis against her oversensitive clit, sending little shocks of pleasure through her. She's going to be sore tomorrow, she knows, but she'll relish each moment of it. The stretch of him inside her is so good that she can barely speak, just moan his name and give little gasps of ecstasy. Chris notices when she does that Peter's hips are losing their rhythm, that he's fucking into her even harder than before.
"He's close," Chris tells her, as if she couldn't already tell. "He's wanted you so badly and now he gets to come, buried in your sweet cunt. Come for her, Peter."
Peter does, his eyes flashing as he roars out. Peter collapses over her, head on her chest as he cock pulses inside her, emptying itself into the condom. Peter groans, like he doesn't want to move, but Chris is shucking his pants and rolling a condom on himself and wow, he has a nice, long cock, Stiles thinks. She whimpers at the loss when Peter pulls out, but then Chris is there, sliding into the empty space inside her.
"Fuck," Stiles groans.
He's not as thick as Peter, but he's longer, and that length and curve is hitting a spot inside her that's making her want to scream. Chris starts out slowly, just rocking into her, teasing her. Stiles rolls her hips into his thrusts, trying to get more of him into her, but he's patient and slow, fucking her slowly until she's whining and desperate, begging him for more. Only then does he begin to speed up and fuck her harder and deeper. Stiles throws her head back and finds that Peter's by her head now. She catches sight of his bright blue eyes before he's reaching down and playing with her nipples, twisting and teasing where Chris left off.
"Fuck fuck Peter, Chris, I'm - I'm close," Stiles gasps out. "Please, I'm close."
"Tell us what you need, sweetheart," Peter croons.
"Touch me, please, touch me," Stiles begs.
"Oh, like this?" Peter asks innocently, then twists her nipple, making her scream and tighten up around Chris.
"My clit! Please, touch my clit," Stiles cries.
Chris snakes a hand between them and rubs little circles over that hard little nub and it's all over. Stiles' cunt spasms around Chris as she comes with a gush of liquid. She whines out Chris' name, her body quivering as he keeps fucking into her, chasing his own release. He's grunting with each thrust, fucking into her harder and faster until he stills with a long groan, hanging his head as he comes.
"Wow," Stiles says when she can feel her legs again. "I can't...wow."
"Mm," Chris agrees, pulling out slowly from her. She's aching already, going to be sore tomorrow for sure, but it's the kind she likes. "Come to bed with us."
"That requires so much effort," she says. "I don't think my arms and legs are working yet."
Peter rolls his eyes and bends down to pick her up. Stiles yelps and wraps her arms around his neck as he stands and walks up the stairs. She's never been in Peter and Chris' bedroom. It's a soft gray with a deep blue wall that fits them perfectly. Peter sets her down in the middle of the bed. Chris follows a moment later with a warm washcloth. He cleans between her thighs, something no one has ever done for her before, and kisses her before they climb into bed on each side of her. Arms wrap around her from both sides and she feels herself drifting off, overwhelmed by everything that's happened tonight, feeling completely safe.
They all do their very best to make sure Caleb doesn't catch on that there's something between his dads and Stiles, but there are some close calls. Peter in particular is bad at keeping his hands to himself, and Stiles is bad at wanting him to. Many a time do they have to jump apart when they hear Caleb coming.
Chris is better at controlling himself, but he still wants her and he makes it obvious in the way his eyes rake over her when they're in the same room, the way touches linger a bit too long when they do something simple, like handing the other the remote.
Stiles starts joining them more for dinner. She sometimes joined them before when there was a lot of food or if Caleb insisted, but now it's more Peter and Chris doing the insisting. She joins them for more movie nights with Caleb, something Peter and Chris try to do Friday nights. Caleb still insists on everyone sitting close so he can crawl across their laps when he feels like it, so it gives them a nice excuse to cuddle close. Chris' arm always wraps around her tightly, his thumb rubbing over the bare skin of her arm. Peter will lace their fingers together, holding her hand tightly like he wishes he could to all of her.
They're careful, so very careful, that Caleb never sees Stiles exiting Peter and Chris' room in the mornings. She doesn't stay with them all the time, but many of her nights are spent in their bed. Sometimes one of them will join her in her room, but never both just in case Caleb needs something in the middle of the night and goes to his parents' room.
Stiles finds out that Peter is the more tactile of the two, which she could have guessed, but it's nice to have confirmation. That doesn't mean that Chris isn't a fan of touch, not at all. Chris will spend hours touching her, exploring the planes and curves of her body, running his fingers through her hair, pressing their bodies close together.
They go on dates. Their neighbor, old Mrs. Richards, who has a dozen grandchildren and is used to kids, watches Caleb for them so Peter and Chris can take Stiles out. They do the typical dinner and a movie (dinner where the menu doesn't even have prices on it, and they won't let Stiles see the bill). They do the not so typical dates also, like mini golf and laser tag. They may be indulging Stiles a bit, but Peter and Chris both find themselves having fun. Stiles has that rejuvenating effect on them.
They all fall fast, and they all fall hard.
"So you're dating both of them?" Scott asks incredulously. It's a Saturday toward the end of summer, and he and Stiles are sitting at a table in a cute outdoor cafe. "Both of your bosses. The guys old enough to be your dad."
"They're not that old," Stiles protests. "But yeah, both of them."
"Stiles, you know I love you, but what the hell are you thinking?" Scott asks. A few people at the tables nearby look up and Scott winces in apology.
"I'm thinking we're attracted to each other and care about each other," Stiles says. "And I'm thinking my best friend would be supportive of that."
"I'm trying," Scott says. "I just don't get it. I don't get how you think this is a good idea."
"Oh, it isn't," Stiles says. "This could go wrong in so many ways. But I really like them. And they make me happy."
Scott groans and puts his head in his hands. That's been his thing for years, telling Stiles she needs to find what makes her happy. Stiles waits nervously. Scott's opinion won't make her break things off with Peter and Chris, but it does matter to her, and she does want his support.
"Fiiine," Scott groans. "Just be careful, okay? They're older and have a lot more experience than you."
"Thanks, Dad," Stiles says.
"You know what I mean," Scott says. "You say they've had triad relationships before. They know what they're doing."
Stiles bristles a bit at the implication that she doesn't, but keeps it to herself. She knows Scott doesn't mean it to come out the way it does, but it still doesn't exactly feel great to hear.
"Look, I've got this, okay?"
"Okay," Scott says, looking skeptical.
It's getting closer and closer to the end of summer and Caleb is having a harder time staying inside, so Stiles takes him to the park they've been frequenting (one farther away from their house so they don't run into Henry and his mother again). It's still a nice area and a nice park, with swings, two jungle gyms, and the nice rubber gravel instead of wood chips or rocks. Stiles appreciates that because Caleb's almost as clumsy as she is.
Stiles pushes Caleb on the swings for a while, his favorite, and tries not to laugh at his shrieks of delight. She's just about to take him from the swings over to the slide when she gets that prickly feeling on the back of her neck like she's being watched. Years of running with werewolves have taught her to be smart enough not to look around obviously, so she uses her peripheral vision, trying to pick out anything that doesn't belong. It isn't easy, but it's a skill honed from years of Beacon Hills living and soon enough, she catches something out of the corner of her eye.
"Mom," Caleb says, like he's been saying it for a while. "Mom!"
Stiles looks at him, startled to realize that he's calling for her. Her mouth opens to correct him but stops. One crisis at a time.
"What's up?" Stiles asks.
"I'm tired," Caleb says.
"Yeah? Why don't we go home and take a nap," Stiles says.
Stiles picks Caleb up, settling him on her hip. She turns, careful not to let her eyes linger on one spot too long as she sweeps the area around them as discreetly as she can. Her insides go cold. In the bushes at the northeast corner of the park is a man with a camera. A camera that's pointed right at them. Stiles doesn't think he knows she saw them, so she just hikes Caleb higher on her hip, careful to keep his face away from the camera, and walks to her car.
Thankfully, the jeep is parked in the opposite direction as the man with the camera. Stiles carefully controls her breathing and tries to ignore her racing heartbeat. She doesn't need to scare Caleb or tip him off that something's wrong. He's smarter than that though, and taps her arm.
"Are you okay?" he asks.
"Yeah," Stiles says, forcing a smile. "My tummy just doesn't feel too good."
"Oh no!" Caleb says. "Do you need medicine?"
"I'll probably just take a nap when we get home," she says.
"Can I take a nap?" Caleb asks.
"Sure thing," Stiles says.
She buckles him into his car seat quickly and gets behind the wheel, fighting to stay calm and not drive like a mad woman away from the park. She's pretty sure she's being followed; the black sedan three cars behind them was at the park and has been behind them for a while. Stiles debates her options. Either she drives around for a while and tries to lose them, or gets home and hides behind Chris' impressive security system. She goes for the latter. She doesn't know who this person (people?) is and what he wants, or hell, if he has other people with him. She'd rather be behind closed doors instead of out in the open.
Stiles manages to put some distance between her jeep and the black sedan so when she gets home, she hops out of the car, gets Caleb, and is in the house in ten seconds flat, long before the sedan has the chance to catch up with her. She locks the door and sets the security system before taking a big, deep breath.
"Stiles?" Caleb asks.
"Why don't you go get ready for your nap?" Stiles suggests. "I'll be up in a minute."
"Okay!" Caleb says and rushes to his room.
Stiles pulls out her phone and calls Chris, groaning when it goes to voicemail. She calls again. If anything constitutes bugging him at work, this is it. It goes to voicemail again. Stiles starts getting worried as the phone rings on the third call. What if someone has Chris? What if there are more of them? What if -
"Stiles?" Chris asks. Stiles lets out a harsh breath in relief at hearing his voice. "I have a staff meeting. Is everything okay?"
"No," Stiles says. "No, Caleb and I were at the park and there was someone in the bushes taking pictures of us. And I'm pretty sure someone followed us home."
"Stay inside," Chris says immediately. "Away from any doors or windows. Set the security system. I'll be home as soon as I can. Have you called Peter?"
"No, not yet," Stiles says.
"Okay, call him, tell him I'm coming home. He'll probably insist on coming home too so tell him to be careful. I'm going to be walking the perimeter so make sure that whoever he pounces on isn't me," Chris says. There's a lot of background noise, like Chris is already running through the halls at his office.
"Yeah, okay," she says.
"Stiles, Chris says. "It'll be okay. You did the right thing calling me."
"You're the security expert," Stiles says. "Be careful?"
"Always. I'll see you soon."
Stiles calls Peter as soon as Chris hangs up. Peter answers more promptly, making Stiles think she managed to catch him during office hours.
"Hello, Stiles" Peter voice comes down the line like velvet. "This is a surprise."
"Not a good one," Stiles says. "Someone was taking pictures of me and Caleb at the park."
"When?" Peter asks, voice immediately steel.
"Fifteen minutes ago."
"Did you call Christopher? Where are you?" Peter asks.
"We're home. Yeah, Chris is on his way home. He said to tell you he'll be walking to perimeter so if you maul someone, make sure it isn't him," Stiles says.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Peter says. There's rustling in the background, like he's packing up. "Are you both okay?"
"Caleb doesn't know. He went upstairs to take a nap," Stiles says.
"Stiles!" Caleb calls down right on cue. "Come tuck me in!"
Peter chuckles softly down the line.
"Good. Now, are you okay?"
"This is stupid," Stiles says. "I've faced kanimas! This is so dumb to be scared."
"You've faced too much in your life. But now you have someone else in your charge," Peter says. "It's natural to be afraid. I'm scared all the time now over things that wouldn't have made me blink before I met Christopher."
"Yeah?" Stiles asks.
"Yes," Peter says. "I'll be home soon. When one of us comes home, we'll call out so you know it's us."
"Thank you," Stiles says. "I'd like to think I'm overreacting, but..."
"You aren't," Peter says firmly. "I'll see you soon."
"Bye," Stiles says.
She hangs up the phone and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and trying to think. She closes the shades downstairs before making her way up to Caleb's room. She closes his blinds, too, plunging the room into semi-darkness. Caleb is already in bed, his blankets tucked around him. His eyes are heavy, like he's trying very hard to keep them open.
"Come on!" he says.
"Okay, sorry," Stiles says. She climbs into bed next to Caleb, sitting against the twin bed's headboard. Caleb immediately snuggles into her side, pressing his face against the side of her leg.
"Love you, mom," he says.
Stiles winces. Yeah, that's another thing she's going to need to discuss with Chris and Peter.
"Love you, kiddo," she says, because what else can she say?
Caleb snuggles deeper into her side and soon is out like a light, the time at the park having taken a lot out of him. Stiles watches him sleep, content to let her leg be his teddy bear. Every sound is making her jump, from the neighbors watering their garden to the washing machine that's still going downstairs. Everything is putting her on edge. She wishes she had stopped by her basement apartment to grab her baseball bat before coming up here, but she's reluctant to leave Caleb alone for longer than she has to, so she stays where she is. It's only fifteen minutes into his nap when the phone buzzes. It's Chris.
"Hey," she answers.
"I just pulled into the driveway. There was a black sedan parked at the end of the street that I haven't seen before. Is that who followed you?" Chris asks.
"I think so," Stiles says.
"I'm going to do a walk of the perimeter. Stay inside. I'll come to you when I'm done," he says.
"Okay. We're in Caleb's room. He's napping."
"Good. I'll see you soon."
Chris doesn't say goodbye when he hangs up.
Stiles sits waiting, the time seeming to take forever. Every minute that goes by convinces her that something terrible has happened to him. She's just about to creep out to grab her bat, fuck everything, when the front door opens. Stiles freezes.
"It's Peter," Peter calls out.
Stiles sighs in relief and eases herself off of Caleb's bed, careful not to wake him. She meets Peter in the hallway outside Caleb's bedroom and he immediately pulls her into his arms, pressing his face into her neck. Peter breathes out harshly into her skin before back enough to kiss her. He doesn't let go of her to peek in on Caleb, just sort of drags her with him so he can look into Caleb's room and see his son sleeping there. He sighs in relief.
"Hey," she says softly. "He's okay."
"You're both okay," Peter corrects her. "It wasn't just him I was worried about."
Stiles sighs and lets him tug her into his arms again, letting herself let go of the tension that she's been holding for the last hour. Peter kisses the side of her head and Stiles wants to stay like this, secure in the knowledge that Peter will keep her safe. She startles when the front door opens again.
"It's just Christopher," Peter says.
Sure enough, a few moments later, Chris is up that stairs. He peeks into Caleb's room, seeing his son is still asleep, before turning back to them. Peter pulls back so Chris can tug Stiles into his arms. One hand cradles the back of her head, the other arm strong around her back.
"You're okay," he murmurs. "I'm sorry this happened. You're okay."
Stiles shudders and Peter comes up to her back, wrapping his arms around the both of them. Stiles lets herself be held by the two of them, lets herself be the one comforted. In a few minutes, she will pull herself together, go grab her bat, and be back to the Stiles she's used to. But for now, she lets herself have this.
Chris is livid. He'd driven home in a carefully controlled panic, because the compartmentalization taught to him growing up is harder when it's your son and the woman you're growing to love in potential danger. He doesn't know what's going on, but strange men with cameras are never good. Holding her helps, seeing his son safely asleep helps, but it isn't enough. He'd found nothing around the property, Peter had said he hadn't heard anyone, but there was a smell he isn't familiar with around the side of the house. Someone is watching them, and he doesn't know why.
Chris takes the next day off from work. Peter wants to, but Chris convinces him that both of them being home would be suspicious. One of them might be sick, both of them being home is too different from their routine that if someone is following them, they'd immediately know something was going on. Peter reluctantly agrees, and spends a long time hugging Caleb before he goes to work. It looks like it pains him that he can't pull Stiles into his arms, too, not wanting to confuse Caleb, so he squeezes her hand quickly and tells them both to call if anything happens.
Chris doesn't like to be armed in the house if he can help it, especially not with Caleb around, but he puts on a holster and carries his Desert Eagle anyway. He checks the safety three times and makes sure if Caleb is in the room, he's not anywhere near reaching range. Caleb looks confused at first, but rolls with it when Stiles gives him extra apples and peanut butter.
"Are you bribing him?" Chris asks, amused.
"Maybe," Stiles says. Caleb is plopped down in front of Curious George, giving Stiles and Chris some ability to talk in the kitchen while they watch him. Chris watches her patiently. She's been on the verge of saying something for the last ten minutes, but he doesn't want to push. "Caleb called me 'Mom' yesterday," Stiles finally says.
And honestly, of everything Chris had been expecting to come out of her mouth, that isn't on the list.
"He called you Mom?" he asks. He really should have expected this. Caleb is almost three, he's about to start preschool, and not stupid, he's seen other kids with moms and dads. He's asked them where the kids' other dads are, but he's never asked about moms.
"Yeah," Stiles says. "I didn't know what to say so I didn't say anything. I didn't want to step on any boundaries, you know?"
"I appreciate that," Chris says. He sighs and runs a hand over his face. "I honestly don't know what to do with that. Peter and I will have to sit him down and talk to him about it, I guess."
"Yeah, I mean..." Stiles trails off, her eyes goes slightly wide. "Out of the window, over your right shoulder, there's the man with the camera again."
"Does he know you've seen him?" Chris asks.
"No, I'm only seeing him out of the corner of my eye," Stiles says, focusing very determinedly on Chris' face.
"Okay, what you're going to do is go sit with Caleb and watch Curious George. Keep him there. I'm going to go around back and deal with this," Chris says.
Stiles nods and Chris squeezes her hand briefly before they both turn to go their separate ways. Chris moves calmly through the house, not wanting the photographer outside to notice anything is amiss. From where the man is, pointing his camera in the living room window, there's no way he can see Chris sneaking out the back door. He doesn't see or hear anything until Chris is grabbing him by the scruff of the shirt and yanking him backwards. Chris thinks Stiles catches a glimpse of them, but then Chris is pulling the man into the backyard, his camera bumping against his front as he tries to fight Chris off. The man pulls out a taser that Chris easily bats away, and then Chris pulls out his gun, pointing it calmly at the man's face.
"Who are you?" Chris demands.
"You won't shoot me," the man says.
Chris clicks off the safety. The man's eyes widen. He's a short, stubby man with thinning brown hair and right now, he's sweating profusely.
"Try again," Chris says.
"I'm just doing my job," the man says.
"Just your job, right," Chris says. He yanks the camera from the man and flicks through the screen, keeping on eye on the man the whole time. "Your job is to stalk women and children?"
"It's true, I'm a private investigator, okay?" he says.
Chris looks at him flatly.
"Give me a reason I shouldn't shoot you now for trespassing," Chris says.
"You'd go to jail!" the man says.
"I really wouldn't," Chris says.
"Your-your husband wouldn't want you to be a murderer!"
"You really haven't been doing a very good job of studying us if you think that," Chris says. "Who hired you?"
"I can't tell you that! I have confidentiality with all of my clients." he says.
"I will shoot you right here," Chris says. "What will your confidentiality say then?"
"I've been threatened by worse than you," the man sneers.
"I doubt that," Chris says. "Your employer, now. I won't ask again."
The man's lip quivers and Chris is sure he's about to give it up.
Then there's a creak of a door opening and Chris immediately drops the gun out of sight. It's Mrs. Richards next door. She smiles over the fence and waves.
"Hello, dear!" she calls.
"Hello, Mrs. Richards," Chris says politely.
"Who's your friend?"
"Randall," the man says and Chris makes a mental note to check private investigators with the first or last name Randall. It could easily be a fake name, but even that is useful. "I actually have to be going, it's been a pleasure."
And what else can Chris do but let him leave? He can't exactly shoot him in front of Mrs. Richards. She seems to sense something is wrong though and frowns.
"Is everything all right?" she asks.
"Call the police if you see him again," Chris says. "He's been spying on Stiles and Caleb."
"Oh my dear, you should have just shot him then," Mrs. Richards says, nodding to where Chris had put his gun away. Privately, he agrees with her.
When Chris comes back inside, Caleb and Stiles are coloring in the family room, on the opposite side of the house from where he had been with Randall.
"Dad!" Caleb calls. "I drew you, Papa, and Mom, look!"
Stiles looks at him, a little pained, and Chris sighs. Apparently they're doing this now.
"Caleb," Chris says, sitting next to him at the coffee table. "Stiles is your nanny, remember? You have me, Papa, and Stiles. She's not your mom."
"But lots of people have moms," Caleb says. "Where's mine?"
Stiles stands and quietly makes her way from the room, something that Chris appreciates. It not that he doesn't want her around, but this is something he'd rather work out with Caleb alone.
"You have me and Papa instead," Chris says carefully.
"So I don't have a mom?" Caleb asks.
"No," Chris says softly.
"Why?" Caleb asks and Jesus, how do you explain adoption to a two, almost three-year-old?
"I'll explain it more when you're older," Chris finally settles on, because one. he should have this conversation with Peter here, and two. he honestly doesn't know what to say. "For now, just know that Papa and I love you very much, okay?"
"Okay," Caleb says. He looks confused, but thankfully doesn't push the matter.
Chris ruffles his hair and says, "Okay, let's make lunch."
Peter gets home earlier than usual, but that doesn't matter much now, not once he finds out that the man, Randall, knows they're aware of his presence now. Peter isn't happy that Chris confronted him without Peter there as backup. Stiles can see the impending fight come and quietly picks up Caleb and leaves the room before it can explode. God, Peter loves that woman.
"You should have waited for me!" Peter hisses.
"There wasn't time, he was there and I wasn't going to let him just keep taking pictures of us," Chris says calmly.
"I'm a bit more durable than you, Christopher!"
"I'm a bit more trained than you, Peter!" Chris shoots back. "Look, I had it under control."
"You don't know that! What if he'd been armed? What if he'd shot you and I came home to you dead in the backyard?" Peter asks.
"There wasn't time," Chris says again.
Peter pushes his shoulder gently, not trying to hurt him, and says, "You're not allowed to put yourself in danger like that. You have a family now."
"I will do whatever I have to do keep my family safe," Chris says.
It's not what Peter wants to hear. Peter growls and turns around, stalking from the room. It's something they've never agreed on, and never will. Chris always throws himself into harm's way, then always complains that Peter thinks of himself as invulnerable. No matter how many times Peter points out that he breaks less easily than Chris, Chris always puts himself in harm's way first. It's maddening.
Peter seeks out Caleb and Stiles in the family room, needing the comfort his son and girlfriend (it sounds so juvenile to call her that. His third? His partner?) can give him. Caleb is dozing with his head in Stiles' lap and normally Peter would be more careful, but he can't help it. He walks around the back of the couch, Stiles leaning her head backward to look at him. He smiles softly down at her and, with a glance at the sleeping Caleb, leans down to kiss her lightly. It's a little strange to kiss someone who's basically upside down, but he doesn't care. He needs to feel Stiles, to taste her, and this is as close as he's going to get right now.
"Hey," Stiles says softly.
"Hey yourself," Peter says. He leans down to rub a hand over Caleb's head. The boy shifts in his sleep, opening his eyes slowly.
"Hi Papa," Caleb says sleepily.
"I brought home Chinese food, why don't you wash up for dinner?" Peter says.
"Okay," Caleb says. He gets up and stretches comically, making Peter grin, before running off to the bathroom.
"Are you okay?" Stiles asks softly. "I'm sorry I didn't call you, I didn't think - "
"It's fine," Peter says, waving away her concern. "I'm not upset with you."
"Okay," Stiles says.
Caleb comes running back in to show them his clean hands before running right back out again and heading to the kitchen.
"That's our cue," Peter says.
"Food waits for no one," Stiles says.
"You're welcome to join us," Peter says. "I brought home more than enough."
"Thanks," Stiles says with a smile.
She stands and walks around the couch to him, holding her hand out. Peter takes it and tugs her into a hug, clutching her tightly.
"I'm glad nothing bad happened today," he whispers against her.
"Me too," Stiles admits.
"Papa! Food!" Caleb calls.
Stiles laughs and pulls away, pressing a kiss to Peter's nose.
"Come on, Papa," she teases.
They're halfway through a vaguely tense dinner, at least for the adults, Caleb is happily chatting away, when Chris' phone rings. He's used to ignoring it for dinner, so he just hits reject and goes back to his kung pao chicken. But it rings again. And again.
"Just take it," Peter says with a sigh. "They aren't going to stop."
"Sorry," Chris says with a wince. He answers the phone. "Hello?"
"Chris. We need to talk."
Chris stills and looks at Peter. Peter's gaze is intense on him and Chris can't look away, even though he feels Stiles looking at him too. He has no doubt that Peter recognizes the voice on the other end of the line.
"Victoria," he says. "What do you want?"
"To meet. Tomorrow at that little cafe on 5th and James street," Victoria says.
"Well you caught the private investigator," she says.
"That was you? You had to have known we'd notice him," Chris says.
"Notice who?" Caleb asks.
"It's just a work call," Peter says.
"I just wanted to see what you'd do," she says.
Chris stands and walks away from the table, out of Caleb and Stiles' hearing range.
"That's a dangerous game," Chris says. "And you know better. Now what do you want?"
"Meet me tomorrow at noon," Victoria says and hangs up.
Chris lets his arm drop, feeling like his entire world has been shifted. He hasn't heard from Victoria in fifteen years. He hasn't heard her name or thought about her besides once or twice in passing. Why is she reaching out to him now? Why, of all things, did she hire a private investigator that she knew would get caught? Just to rattle his cage? To scare his son? To scare Stiles?
Chris nearly jumps when Peter sets a hand on his shoulder. He looks into his husband's concerned eyes and sighs, letting Peter pull him into a hug.
"You don't have to go," Peter offers quietly.
"I do," Chris says. "We both know I do."
Peter says nothing, but Chris knows that's agreement enough.
Everyone's quiet for the rest of the night. Caleb might not know what had happened, but he can read the mood of the room as well as anyone and doesn't make much noise that night. He doesn't complain when it's time to go to bed and hugs both Chris and Peter tightly when they say goodnight.
Stiles is still in the kitchen when they're done, digging in the freezer for ice cream. She doesn't look the least bit guilty when she digs her spoon into it, not bothering to grab a bowl. For one glorious minute, Chris thinks maybe she wasn't going to push this, but looking at her expectant face, he knows that isn't the case.
"I'll go through your phone if that's easier," Stiles says.
"My ex-fiancée hired the private eye," Chris says.
Stiles' jaw drops.
Peter chuckles at her expression. He takes a seat next to her at the kitchen table, kissing her temple lightly just because he can. Chris sighs.
"My ex-fiancée," he says. "Victoria came from another well-respected hunting family. I liked her, but I didn't love her. I left her for Peter. That's why father disowned me."
"You...wow," Stiles says. "That's Shakespearian levels of wow."
Chris can't help it, he smiles a bit at that. Stiles looks proud that she was able to make him crack a bit.
"She wants to meet tomorrow," he says.
"Are you going?" she asks.
"I have to. If not, she just keeps sending private investigators and we never get a moment of peace," Chris says. "I don't know what she wants, but I'm going to find out."
"Okay," she says slowly. "Will you shoot her if you need to?"
"What?" Chris asks, shocked. "Why would I shoot her?"
"She might try to shoot you first!" Stiles says.
"Why would she try to shoot me first?" Chris asks.
"It could happen!" Stiles says. "All I'm saying is don't be gentle if she tries to hurt you, okay?"
"Your concern is sweet, but I'll be fine," Chris says.
"You better be," Stiles mumbles. "I like having you around."
Chris smiles slightly despite the situation. He walks around the kitchen table and presses a kiss to Stiles' forehead.
"And I like being around you, little one. Victoria isn't dangerous," Chris says. Peter coughs pointedly. "All right, she isn't dangerous this time around."
"Go armed," Stiles says.
"Stiles," Chris says.
"I will feel a gazillion times better if the lady that hired someone to stalk me and your son sees you when you're armed," Stiles says and well, when she puts it that way...
"Fine," Chris says. "Happy?"
"Getting there," Stiles says. "Kiss me again."
Chris can never deny a request like that.
"I want one of us to stay with you tonight," Chris says against her lips.
"Why?" she asks. "Not that I don't love have you around."
"I don't think she'd send someone to watch us at night, but after today, I'd prefer if no one were alone," Chris says.
"I will," Peter says. He kisses her neck, then steals the bite of ice cream she was about to bring to her mouth.
"Ass!" she says with a laugh. "Fine. I have a baseball bat made out of a rowan tree blessed by a druid next to my bed that I used to beat in the heads of wendigos, but sure."
"Thank you," Chris says. "I just want you all safe."
"You can't just send Peter to my bed when you guys are fighting," she warns.
"We're not fighting," Peter says immediately. "We just have a long-standing disagreement about Chris' training vs my natural abilities."
"We aren't fighting," Chris says, kissing Peter for emphasis. "No ulterior motives, I promise."
"Good," Stiles says. "I don't want to be the timeout corner you send each other to when you're in trouble."
"You're not," Peter says. "This thinking badly about yourself trend has got to stop."
"I'm not!" Stiles says defensively. "I'm just making sure."
"All right well you can be sure that we want you for you," Peter says.
"I know," Stiles says softly. "You know I feel the same, right? You're not just two hot older guys."
"Not that much older," Peter grumbles.
Stiles rolls her eyes.
"We know," Chris says. "We care about you, Stiles. Very much."
Even though the reason behind it isn't fun, what with the whole stalked by a private eye thing, Stiles has to admit that she's happy to have Peter in her bed. She loves spending time with Chris and Peter, but sometimes it's nice to have one of them alone. She's been spending a lot of nights alone because Caleb has fallen back into the habit of coming into Chris and Peter's room in the middle of the night lately and after one too many close calls, Stiles just said fuck it and stayed in her room. But tonight, she has Peter.
It's so nice to slip under the blanket and have a warm body already waiting for her. Peter immediately pulls her to him, cupping her face in his strong hand and kissing her senseless. She's in just a tank top and panties, and he's wearing nothing at all, his semi-hard cock pressed against her hip.
"Peter," she breathes against his lips.
He hums and pulls her closer, until she's lying on top of him. He seems content with just this, just kissing her and running his hands up and down her body. Stiles does the same, though she's careful to avoid his neck. He says he doesn't mind, but the one time she'd strayed too close, he'd tensed up. So she touches his shoulders, his arms, his chest. She cups the side of his face and runs a hand through her hair.
"It's been too long since I've had you like this," Peter says. "I've missed you, sweetheart."
"I've missed you, too," Stiles says softly.
Stiles assumes that after the intense and stressful day, Peter would want it hard and fast, but she's wrong. Peter takes her apart slowly, savoring each moment. He undresses her slowly, reverently touching each inch of skin as it's exposed. He kisses his way down her body, coming to rest between her thighs.
Peter always is great at oral, but now he eats her out like she's a rare delicacy that he's being allowed to experience. He chases every moan and gasp, licking and sucking at her until she's crying out his name, clenching around the two fingers he has inside of her.
When he slides into her, his thick cock spreading her open, she sighs in contentment, happy to have him filling her. He move in her slowly, despite her attempts to speed him up. He shushes her pleads, promising her to give her what she needs. He rocks into her slowly, making sure to grind his pelvis against her clit.
Stiles' orgasm builds slowly, the pleasure crawling up her spine until with a dirty grind of his hips and a nip at her nipple, Peter makes her come. She spasms around him, her walls clinging to his cock as he drives in and out of her, faster now that she's come, chasing his own orgasm. When he comes, he stills inside her, his face buried in her neck. He's panting harshly and whispers something against her skin that she doesn't quite catch, but she has a good idea of what he says.
Peter collapses onto her, which is fine, she can take his weight, with his head resting on her chest. Stiles wraps her arms around him, toying with his hair as they both come down. Peter rumbles in pleasure, pushing his head into her hand for more. Stiles laughs a little, strongly reminded of a happy puppy, though she's never say that. (Okay, she would. But not right after they had sex.)
"Chris, Caleb, and you are all that matter to me," Peter says softly a while later. They've shifted position to Stiles being cradled in his arms with Peter resting his chin on her head. "My pack, I love them, and I would be devastated if anything were to happen to them. But you...I couldn't handle anything happening to you three."
Stiles squeezes him tightly and presses her lips to the closest bit of skin she can reach.
"We're still here," she says. "We're fine."
"There's so much that can happen," Peter says as if he hadn't heard her. He pulls back and tilts her head up with a finger under her chin to meet his eyes. "And I can't stand there being a world without you in it. Without you knowing just how much you mean to me."
"Do you love me?" Stiles blurts out, then blushes because that's a hell of a thing to assume. But Peter just smiles and dips his head down to kiss her.
"I do," he says. "I don't need you to say it back, but if you - "
"I love you, too," Stiles says immediately. "I didn't want to say it first but I do."
Peter's smile is brilliant as he rolls them over and kisses her senseless.
Chris waits for Peter and Stiles to get upstairs before he leaves for work, though he isn't sure how much he'll be able to get done with the weight of his meeting with Victoria hanging over his head. He kisses Peter goodbye and does the same to Stiles without thinking. They both freeze, but luckily Caleb is paying more attention to his Cheerios than to them.
"I'll call you when I'm done," Chris says.
"You'd better," Peter says.
"Will you be okay alone today?" Chris asks Stiles.
"Yeah, we'll be fine," Stiles says. "I can take a second rate private investigator if he comes back again."
Chris looks pained but Peter laughs.
"She's kidding," Peter says.
Chris isn't so sure.
It's then that Caleb upends his bowl, sending Cheerios everywhere.
"Shit," Stiles mutters under her breath and runs over to Caleb.
"Not to put more on your plate for today," Peter says quietly, "but I told Stiles I love her."
Chris' eyebrows rise in surprise. Honestly, he'd known they were getting there. He's seen the way they look at each other, the ease in which they fall together. And to be frank, he's falling in love with her himself. It's not like he blames Peter for it.
"Okay," Chris says.
"Okay?" Peter says. "That's it?"
"Do you want me to be angry?" Chris asks.
"No," Peter says with a frown. "I want to know your thoughts."
"I'm glad you told her," Chris says. "She deserves to know. Did she say it back?"
"Yes," Peter says. "I should have talked to you about it first..."
"No," Chris says, shaking his head. "No, of course not. We're both dating her. We have separate feelings and you're welcome to express yours. I'm just surprised is all."
"It's not a problem for you?" Peter clarifies.
"No," Chris says. He could kick himself for making Peter of all people doubt himself. "I don't love her yet, but I'm getting there."
Peter smiles. They both look over to where Stiles has Caleb on her hip, dancing around the kitchen with him as she gets him more Cheerios. Yeah, Chris is close.
By the time he gets to work, he's put Stiles and Peter in one box, Victoria in another, and is focused completely on working. He manages like that for a few hours before reality sets in and he can't stop thinking about his meeting with Victoria later, worrying about what she wants. He hasn't seen her since she slapped him when he broke off the engagement. He has no idea what she could want.
He arrives at the cafe early, but Victoria is already there, sitting in a booth in the back, the one with a view of all the doors and windows. She hasn't changed much, her face looking a little older and more lined, but she has the same shock of red hair and severe look on her face. He doesn't bother to order anything, instead going straight to the table.
"Chris," she says as he sits down. It isn't friendly.
"Victoria," Chris answers. "What's this about?" Neither of them have ever been big on small talk.
Victoria pulls out an envelope from her bag and sets it on the table. Chris pulls it toward him and the contents make him seethe. He's already known that they had been watched, but seeing the evidence in front of him is enough to make his blood boil. There are pictures of their house at night, of him kissing Peter through the open window. There are pictures Stiles at the park with Caleb, Stiles driving, Stiles hugging Chris. There are pictures of all four of them out at a restaurant two weeks ago. Chris rips them in half. Victoria doesn't look surprised at all.
"What is this?" he asks.
"It's cute that you're planning house with the wolf, cute nanny, and a kid when you ignore your other child even exists," Victoria spits.
"I don't have another child," Chris says automatically. Then her words sink in, the potential meaning. Her looks at her, his eyes widening. "Are you...are you saying..."
Victoria's face immediately changes, going from hostile and angry to confused. Comprehension dawns on her face and she looks almost pitying.
"You didn't know," she says slowly.
"Didn't know what? You haven't told me anything," Chris says.
"I told Gerard," Victoria says. "He said he talked to you."
"Gerard and I don't speak, you know this," Chris says. "I don't talk to anyone in my family."
"When you left me, I was pregnant," Victoria says and Chris' world stops. "I didn't know until after, but I was. I didn't know how to find you so I told Gerard I needed to talk to you. He wouldn't give me your information but said he'd relay a message."
"He never told me," Chris chokes out. His stomach feels like lead and if he were in control of himself any less, he'd have thrown up. "He never said anything."
"He said you wanted nothing to do with either one of us, so I thought fine, I'll do it myself," Victoria says.
"Why would you believe him?" Chris hisses. "You know what he's like! Why would you listen to a word he said? Do you really think I would abandon my child?"
"You abandoned me," Victoria hisses back. "I was hurt and I was angry and it made sense at the time!"
"How...is...a girl or a boy?" Chris asks.
Victoria's face softens in a way that Chris has never seen.
"Her name is Allison," she says. "She's 14. She wanted to know who her dad is, so I hired Mr. Randall to find you and find out about you. I have to say, I wasn't expecting you and the dog to have a son."
"His name is Peter," Chris says sharply. "And you'll do well to remember that."
Victoria looks disgusted, but doesn't say it again. They sit in silence for a few moments, Chris digesting everything he's learned. He has a daughter. He has a teenage daughter that he's never even met. A daughter that Victoria has had years to poison against him. Why does she even want to know him? What does she know about him? What has Victoria said? Will she let him see her?
As if reading his mind, Victoria says, "I told her the basic facts. We were engaged, you left me for someone else. She knows nothing about werewolves because I refused to let Gerard into her life." Something in Chris unclenches at that, but it fills a new space with rage. Gerard had known. He had known and never told Chris that he has a daughter.
"Do you have a picture of her? Can I see her?" Chris asks, not caring how desperate he sounds.
He feels like Victoria is well within her rights to tell him to go to hell, but she pulls out her phone anyway and slides it across to him. Her background is a smiling brunette with beautiful brown eyes and a killer jawline. She grins happily up at him and Chris almost cries right then. He hasn't cried, not truly, since Caleb's adoption went through.
"She wants to meet me," Chris says slowly. He can't tear his eyes away from the picture of her. "Are you going to let her?"
Victoria looks at him hard, her arms crossed. He knows what she's thinking, how hard it must be to let go of 15 years of hurt and anger, which he rightfully deserves, but he knows he will do anything she asks if it means he can see his daughter. He will pay child support, he'll fly to wherever they live if he has to, whatever, he just wants to meet her.
"I have to talk to her," Victoria says finally. "She thinks you never wanted her."
"If I'd known..." Chris says. "I'd have been there for her. I'd have done anything you wanted."
"But you still would have left me," Victoria says.
Chris can't lie to her now, not after all the lying he did back then.
"I still would have left you," he admits.
"Well that's a change at least," she says stiffly. "Honesty. I'll think about it."
Victoria stands to leave and Chris feels bold.
"Wait," he says. "Can you send me a picture of her? Please?"
Victoria looks at him long and hard, weighing his request, before saying, "Fine. I will talk to you later, Chris."
Chris watches his ex-fiancée go, feeling more stunned than he ever has in his life. And he's married to Peter.
Stiles is out shopping with Caleb when Peter gets home. Chris' car is already in the driveway, which is concerning. Peter almost forgets to lock his car door in his rush to get inside. Chris is sitting on the couch in the family room, his head in his hands. Peter wants to make a sarcastic comment, it's what he does best in situations like this, but he just can't bring himself to do it, not when Chris looks like this.
Peter walks to the couch, careful to make enough noise that Chris won't startle, and sits next to his husband. He rubs a hand over Chris' back soothingly, knowing there's no point is asking Chris what happened. He'll tell Peter when he's ready.
It's a long time before Chris raises his head and looks at Peter. His eyes are red-rimmed, shocking something inside of Peter. Before he can say anything, Chris says, "I have a daughter."
There are times when there are such big changes in your world that it's almost like you can feel it shift. Peter feels that now, like the ground under his feet has been yanked out from under him and replaces with quicksand, making it impossible for him to get a footing.
"You...have a daughter," Peter repeats.
Chris nods, miserably.
"Gerard kept her from me. He told Victoria I didn't want anything to do with them," Chris says. "He told her he reached out to me for her and I said I didn't care."
"That's absurd," Peter says. "If you'd known..."
Peter pauses. If Chris had known, Chris would have done the right thing. Does that mean staying with Victoria? Does this girl existing mean that Peter almost never got Chris, never got his family? Would Chris have left his fiancée still?
"Stop," Chris says heavily. "I would have supported Victoria, but I couldn't stay with her."
Peter immediately feels like an ass.
"I'm not thinking that," he lies. Chris gives him a look. "I'm wondering what exactly Gerard will feel like impaled on my claws."
Chris rolls his eyes, but it looks fond, so Peter takes it.
"No killing," Chris says, though he doesn't sound too firm on that. Peter doesn't blame him. Victoria was an idiot for taking Gerard's word on something as big as this, but he can understand her being willing to believe the worst in someone after what he and Chris had put her through. It doesn't excuse this, though. Not by a long shot. Whenever something bad happens, it always seems to come back to Gerard.
"Did you meet her?" Peter asks.
"No," Chris says. "It was just Victoria. Apparently Allison wanted to know more about her father so Victoria hired the PI to track us down and report back to her."
"And?" Peter asks.
"And she said maybe," Chris says with a sigh. He looks hesitant for a moment before he asks, "Do you want to see her picture?"
Peter does, he finds. This girl, she has to be, what, 14? 15? She's Caleb's older sister, if she wants to be. Peter finds he wants to know her, to see what she got from Chris. He nods. Chris' relieved smile is worth it. Chris pulls out his phone and shows him the picture. She's a stunning brunette with kind eyes, a strong jawline, and a huge smile on her face. Peter can see the Chris in her, but also the Victoria.
"She's beautiful," Peter says softly.
"She is," Chris says, his voice just as quiet. "Victoria's going to call tonight to tell me if I can see her."
"She'll let you," Peter says confidently. "She wouldn't have gone to the trouble of tracking you down for her daughter just to say no."
"She might be that spiteful," Chris says.
"Maybe to you, but would she do that to her daughter?" Peter asks.
"I hope not," Chris says. "I don't think so."
Peter kisses Chris' forehead, putting his arm around him and tugging him in closer.
"It'll work out," Peter says. "If we need to sue for parental rights - "
"I'm not going to take her away from her mother," Chris says.
"I'm not talking about custody," Peter says calmly. "Just about getting visitation if she chooses to deny you that."
Chris frowns, thinking it over. Peter knows Chris, knows how noble he is, how he would be willing to forgo his rights if it's what Victoria and Allison want.
"You have the right to know your daughter," Peter says quietly.
"Do I?" Chris asks. "I haven't been there her whole life."
"Through no fault of your own," Peter says sharply. "Victoria's an idiot."
"Peter - "
"She's an idiot to go to Gerard and an idiot for believing him," Peter says plainly. "This is her fault as much as his."
"Agree to disagree," Chris says. Peter goes silent because that's what they do, when they know something will lead to a fight and neither will budge, it's 'agree to disagree' and they stop. The only time it doesn't work is when they argue about the other putting themselves in danger.
"How are you?" Peter asks. "With all this?"
"I'm still...digesting it all," Chris says. "I'm...I'm sad. I'm angry. I'm scared. I want to know her, Peter."
"You will," Peter says. "We'll make sure you do."
Chris says nothing, but lets Peter wraps his arms around him. Peter has to be honest, with the drama surrounding Victoria's appearance, this isn't on the short list of things he'd expected to happen.
Stiles immediately knows something major went down as soon as she and Caleb get back to the house, groceries in tow. Peter is silent at the table, but smiles warmly when he sees them. Caleb runs to him for a hug and Peter holds him tightly, burying his face in his son's neck. Stiles frowns and looks around for Chris.
"He's in his office," Peter says when Caleb runs into the living room to bring out his blocks.
"Is he okay?"
"I think he will be," Peter says.
"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Stiles asks.
"It's not my place to tell," Peter says, though Stiles can see he's nearly bursting at the seams to say something.
"Should I go ask Chris?" Stiles asks with a smirk.
"Yes, do that," Peter says and all but shoos her from the room.
Stiles snorts but makes her way through the house. Chris' office is in the back, off the family room. Stiles picks up a few toys on her way, a compulsion she can't quite get rid of, before knocking on the door. Chris' "Come in" comes and she slips in the door.
Chris looks a lot more tired that she's seen him recently. He smiles when he sees her though and she takes that for permission to approach. She closes the door behind her and walks up to him, sliding into his lap. Chris' arms wrap around her, tugging her closer, then he's licking into her mouth, kissing her bruisingly hard. One hand squeezes the back of her neck and she moans into the kiss. Chris snakes an arm between their bodies and rubs her over the front of her jeans. Stiles' breath hitches as she gasps his name.
"Does Peter have Caleb?" Chris asks her, voice rough.
"Yeah," Stiles answers breathlessly.
"Good," Chris says. "Bend over the desk for me."
Stiles scrambles out of his lap and bends over the desk, pushing out her ass. Chris smacks it lightly, making Stiles giggle. Chris smacks her ass harder and she gasps out.
"Oh?" he asks, rubbing a hand over her clothed ass. "We'll have to come back to that."
"Yeah," Stiles says breathlessly. She doesn't have the patience for it now, and she has a feeling that he doesn't either. Chris seems more on the edge, more desperate.
She presses her ass back against Chris' hand. Chris reaches around her to unbutton her jeans and tugs them down her hips and thighs to tangle at her knees. Stiles is already wet in anticipation, but it's not nearly enough to take Chris' cock, and he knows it. Chris drops to his knees behind her and licks at her core. Stiles gasps and bends all the way over the desk, pressing her wet cunt against Chris' face. Chris nips and licks at her, coaxing the wetness out of her. He slips two fingers into her, stretching her cunt open. It only takes a few minutes before Stiles is pushing harder against his face.
"Please, Chris, I'm ready," Stiles begs.
"You sure, baby? I don't want to hurt you," Chris says.
"Come on, fuck me, please," Stiles says.
Groaning, Chris reaches into the top desk drawer, fumbling for a moment before he comes back out with a condom. Stiles giggles.
"Keep condoms in your desk drawer? Kinky," she says.
"I've wanted to fuck you or Peter over this desk for so long," Chris confesses and something in the way he say it just makes Stiles shiver.
Chris doesn't bother undressing, just pulls his cock out of his jeans and slides the condom on. He brushes the head down Stiles' slick folds a few times before slowly nudging into her. Stiles arches her back, nails scrabbling for purchase on the wood desk as he fills her up in one long stroke.
"Yes," she hisses out.
Chris doesn't give her time to adjust, merely pulls out to fuck back into her, hard. He sets a harsh pace and she's sure there will be bruises on her hips from the desk later, but she doesn't care. She pushes back into his thrusts, loving the drag of him inside of her. Chris doesn't let go often, doesn't give over to his animalistic instincts nearly as much as Peter, but he does now. This isn't tender or loving, this is brutal and all about chasing pleasure. He reaches between them, sliding his fingers over her clit in fast circles.
"Come on," Chris growls in her ear. "Come on my cock, sweetheart."
Stiles keens and thrusts back against him, desperately trying to get more of him inside her. She loves being fucked from behind, especially with Chris' long, curved cock, and she's already close. His cock is rubbing over her g-spot over and over again, building delicious tension in her. She starts tensing up around him, feeling herself winding up more and more.
"Chris," she gasps. "I'm gonna come."
"Do it," Chris orders. "Come for me."
He rubs over her clit one more time and that's it, Stiles comes around him, gasping his name. Chris keeps thrusting into her still-spasming cunt, hands tight on her waist. She's close to oversensitivity, but then he stills behind her, cock flexing inside her as he comes.
Chris collapses back into his desk chair and tugs Stiles onto his lap. She curls up, her head on his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head and wraps his arms around her, careful not to let her fall. They're quiet for a long time before Chris speaks.
"I have a daughter," he finally says.
Stiles is quiet for a few moments, then says, "I feel like this is a conversation most people have with pants on."
Chris laughs and squeezes her gently.
"You're welcome to get up," he says.
"Not on your life," Stiles says, snuggling closer. "So that's what your ex wanted? Child support?"
"No. She...Allison...she's been asking about her father," Chris says.
"So your ex had you followed, brilliant," Stiles says. "When are you going to meet her?"
"Hopefully soon. I'm waiting for Victoria's call," Chris says.
"She wouldn't tell you when?" Stiles asks, sounding outraged.
"It's a delicate situation," Chris says with a sigh. "I'll be happy if I get to meet her period."
Stiles, not wanting to make anything worse, doesn't say how much bullshit she thinks that is, just lets Chris stroke his hand through her hair. She's about to ask more about Allison, when Chris' phone rings. He leans forward, keeping a careful arm wrapped around Stiles, and grabs it from the desk.
"Do you want me to go?" Stiles asks.
"No," Chris says, tightening his hold on her. He hits answer and brings the phone to his ear. "Hello?"
Stiles can only hear Chris' side of the conversation, which is mostly a lot of yeses and nos. Some of the tension he’s holding releases a few minutes in, so Stiles assumes he's being told good news. She wants to ask, to lean up and listen, but there's a time for nosy and now isn't it.
Finally, Chris says, "I'll be there. Thank you," and hangs up.
"Well?" Stiles says as soon as Chris hangs up.
"They live a couple hours away. I can come up next weekend and meet her," Chris says.
Stiles throws her arms around Chris' neck, hugging him tightly.
"I knew it," she says (lies, she thought it very likely that Victoria would be petty and not allow him near Allison). Chris sags in relief and blinks very quickly, his eyes shiny. "You're a great dad," Stiles says softly. "She's going to be lucky to have you."
Stiles kisses away the tear that falls and lets Chris gather her closer and hold her tightly.
"I'm so lucky I have you in my life," Chris whispers into her hair. "I love you so much."
Stiles' answering grin is brilliant.
"I love you, too."
The week seems to crawl by for Chris. He wants it to be Saturday, to be able to drive up the coast to meet Allison. He'd thought about bringing a gift for her, but what would he get? He doesn't know her, and doesn't want her to think he's trying to buy her affection.
When it's finally the day, when he drives two hours north to Victoria's house, he's ready for her to hate him, ready for her to have wanted to meet him just to yell at him about how he wasn't there and she doesn't need him. He's ready to be the cathartic release she needs to get over the absent father that should have had a bigger place in her life. He's not ready for her to throw her arms around him in a hug.
Chris shudders and hugs her back, wrapping her up in his arms. He can see Victoria over Allison's head, and he's prepared for her anger and disgust, but she looks sad more than anything else, and maybe she's regretting all the years Chris lost, too.
"Hi," Allison says when she pulls back, blushing a bit. "I, uh, I'm Allison."
"Hi, Allison," Chris says. "I'm Chris. You can call me that, or whatever you like, I don't expect you to want to call me dad or anything." He feels like Stiles, rambling on.
"Chris," Allison says, testing the name out. "Is it okay if we work up to 'dad'?"
"Of course," Chris says quickly. "I'm just happy you wanted to meet me."
"Shall we continue this in the living room?" Victoria asks.
"Sure," Allison says easily.
She leads them into a small but clean living room, sitting next to Chris on the couch. Victoria takes the seat across from them. Chris feels very much like he's being chaperoned, but he guesses he can't blame her for being protective with her daughter.
"This is so weird," Allison says with a self-conscious laugh.
"Tell me about it," Chris says, running a hand over his face. "I need you to know, I never knew you existed. I never would have stayed away if I had."
Allison regards him for a long moment, a breadth of knowledge in her young eyes.
"I know," she says finally. "Mom told me. She said you're a good man but can be a bit stupid sometimes."
Chris winces, but considering everything, that's the best he could have hoped for.
"She's not wrong," he admits. "Tell me about yourself?"
"Uh, well, I'll be 15 in two months. I like archery, volleyball, and reading. I'm doing well in school, but struggling a bit in French."
"French, huh? Français est difficile," Chris says.
"You speak French?" Allison asks, lighting up. "I want to learn so badly, but I just struggle with tenses. Mom took Spanish and can only help so much. Would you help me? I mean, if you want to?"
"I'd love to," Chris says.
That's how their first meeting turns into an impromptu French lesson. If he's grateful for Gerard for anything, it's for insisting he and Kate learn French at a young age. He's a little rusty, but still fluent. He makes a vow to study up more when he gets home.
He learns more about Allison. He learns that she has a girlfriend named Kira, that she's on the archery team at her private high school, and that Gerard tried to contact her last year and she told him to stuff it.
"Really?" he asks.
"He gave me a really creepy vibe," Allison says, making a note on her French quiz. "And Mom seemed uncomfortable, so I told him to leave us alone."
"Probably for the best. I don't speak to him anymore, or any of my family," Chris says.
"Why?" Allison asks, looking surprised and Chris wonders just how much Victoria told Allison. What does he say, 'When I left your mother, alone and pregnant...'?
Victoria saves him, surprisingly. "When it didn't work out with your father and I, he married a man," Victoria says, like it pains her to say the word 'man' instead of 'wolf', but like she'd say, Allison knows nothing of werewolves.
"So?" Allison asks.
"Gerard hates him and his family," Chris says. "He gave me the choice of marrying your mom and keeping my family, or staying with Peter and him cutting me out. I stayed with Peter."
Allison frowns a bit. "You didn't want to marry Mom that badly?"
"I wasn't in love with her," Chris says carefully. "I wanted to be, and I cared about her very much, but it wouldn't have been fair to either one of us for me to stay."
"I get it," Allison says, still frowning. "It's just hard to get past the whole leaving my pregnant mom alone thing."
"If I'd known - "
"I know," Allison says, her face smoothing out. "She told me. I'm sorry, it's just, it's so weird!"
"I know," Chris says, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know how I'm going to tell Caleb he has an older sister."
"You have a son?" Allison asks.
"Yes," Chris says. "Your mom didn't tell you?"
"No! Can I see pictures?" Allison asks.
Chris grins and brings out his phone. The background is a picture he'd taken last week of Caleb in Stiles' lap, both of them laughing and looking across the room at Peter. It's his favorite of both of them. He flicks to another, Caleb in Peter's arms at the store with Stiles pointing to Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations.
"Oh my god, he is so cute!" Allison squeals. "How old is he? Who's with him?"
"He's three," Chris says. "And that's Stiles, his nanny. Caleb goes to her friend's preschool."
"Can I meet him sometime?" Allison asks hopefully.
"You want to?" Chris asks, surprised. He'd thought she'd be mad about Caleb, that he has a child whose attention he's given, who's had a father his whole life.
"Of course! I want him to know me," Allison says. "Look, I wouldn't have asked mom to get a hold of you for no reason. I want to know my dad and I want to know his family."
Chris tries very hard not to get watery-eyed, but Allison has tears gathering in her eyes and he can't help it. She throws her arms around him in a hug and he hugs her back, getting to hold his daughter for the second time. He's missed so much, almost 15 years of her life. But no more. He won't miss anything else. He'll teach her drive, he'll teach her French, he'll drag the whole damn family up here to meet her if she wants.
When he leaves, it's with Allison's number and plans for her to come down the next weekend to meet Peter and Caleb. He doesn't know what to tell her about Stiles, how do you tell your teenage daughter that you just met that you and your husband are dating your nanny for the last six months? The drive home is long and he's tired, but it's worth it. It was all worth it.
Peter is completely on board with Allison coming down, but is less pleased that Victoria will be with her. He's only met the woman twice, and once was when she caught him making out with Chris in his car. He wants his home to be spotless, something that's a bit unrealistic with a three-year-old. Stiles indulges him and even helps him clean, though he tells her he can do it himself.
There's an awkward moment when Chris tells Stiles she's welcome to be there to meet Allison, but that he hadn't told her and Victoria about their relationship. Stiles smiles, and to Peter it looks a bit sad, but tells them she hadn't expected him to, and she'd love to meet her, but she'll let them have their family time. Chris looks torn about her response, and Peter wants to tug her into his arms and tell her she has a place in their family, to prove it to her, but Caleb comes running in at that moment and Stiles ducks to her knees to pick him up.
So Peter cleans, and tries to put his worry about Stiles out of his mind. The place is as spotless as he can get it by 2:00 p.m. on Saturday. He'd stressed all week, but Chris had said Allison had a girlfriend and probably wasn't going to throw out homophobic barbs. He doesn't care. This is his husband's daughter. It's imperative that she likes him. Chris had stopped him from buying her a bribery iPad.
Chris answers the door when the bell rings and Peter barely has time to make out her smiling face before she's throwing herself into Chris' arms. Peter sags in relief. Chris had told him all about their meeting, but it's different to see it in real life.
When Allison pulls away, Chris leads her and Victoria into the house. Peter's smile is fixed on his face. He'd promised Chris to be pleasant to Victoria, but it's hard to see your husband's ex-fiancée in a positive light. Mother of his child, Peter reminds himself. Have to play nice with the mother of his child.
"Allison, this is my husband, Peter," Chris says.
"Hi," Allison says, waving her hand at him. Peter can tell she's thinking the same thing he is: here is the man Chris left her mother for. "It's nice to meet you."
"You as well," Peter says with a polite smile. "You're just as beautiful as your picture."
Allison blushes but smiles.
"Stiles has Caleb in the backyard trying to run off some of his extra energy," Chris says. "We told him he has an older sister and he was so excited, he couldn't calm down."
Allison's grin gets bigger. There's a bang that signals Caleb's thrown the back door open and a second later, Caleb comes running into the room, followed by a harassed-looking Stiles.
"Hold on, buddy, no shoes in the house, remember?" she asks.
"You have shoes!" Caleb says.
"Yeah, because you ran away from me, squirt," Stiles says. She tugs off Caleb's shoes before spinning him around and sending him back toward where they're all standing. "Go ahead and climb on people. Sorry," she adds to the rest of them. "I meant to be out of the way but time got away from us."
"It's no problem," Chris says.
Caleb takes off and immediately wraps himself around Allison's legs, grinning up at her.
"Hi!" he says. "I'm Caleb!"
"Hi Caleb," Allison says, squatting down. "I'm Allison."
"I'm three!" Caleb says and from then on, it's babble as Caleb tries to tell Allison everything he knows about fish.
"We've lost her," Peter says dramatically. "She's Caleb's now."
Stiles rolls her eyes and elbows him.
"Shut up, it's cute," she says, then steps around Caleb and Allison to extend her hand to Victoria. "Hi, I'm Stiles."
"Nice to meet you," Victoria says, shaking Stiles' hand.
Something in Peter relaxes. He'd had the fear of Victoria treating Stiles badly, calling her 'the help' or something as ridiculous. It's weird, watching Stiles and Victoria talk casually while Caleb talks Allison's ear off. Chris comes to stand by him and looks down at the two kids, one a teenager and one a toddler, fondly.
"You've always wanted two kids," Peter points out.
"I did," Chris says. "That doesn't stop me from wanting another with you."
"Softie," Peter says and nudges Chris with his shoulder, but it's with love.
Caleb lets go of Allison when Peter brings out grapes for him and snacks for the adults and Allison. Peter and Allison get into a lively chat about Chaucer over their tea sandwiches while Chris and Stiles chat a bit. Victoria excuses herself to get some more water, though Peter offers to do it for her. Caleb gets up and follows her, which makes Peter groan and get up too. Peter gets into the kitchen to see Victoria bent down to Caleb's level, talking to him politely.
"Did you know fish have gills?" Caleb says.
"They do?" Victoria asks.
"Stiles told me," Caleb says, then continues, matter-of-factly, "Stiles is Dad and Papa's girlfriend."
Peter nearly has a heart attack. He's too frozen in shock to stop the conversation.
"Two people can't have a girlfriend," Victoria says.
"Why not?" Caleb asks.
"They just can't."
"Well, you're wrong," is all Caleb says and turns around, running back out to Stiles, Chris, and Allison in the living room.
Victoria turns to Peter with an eyebrow raised. Peter's not ashamed to admit that the woman, the hunter, makes him uncomfortable.
"CHRIS," Peter calls. "Can we borrow you?"
Chris comes around the corner and frowns at the obvious tension.
"What's wrong?" he asks, eyes darting between the two of them.
"Apparently, you're dating the nanny," Victoria says.
"I'm sorry?" he asks.
"Your son just told me that you and Peter are dating Stiles," Victoria says. "What the hell are you thinking?"
"I know that you know what polyamory is, Victoria," Chris says heavily. Peter can see the same thought in Chris' eyes that Peter has himself; is Victoria going to keep Allison away over this?
"I didn't expect a three-year-old to," Victoria says.
"Yeah, neither did I," Peter says. He turns to Chris. "He just said, 'Stiles is Dad and Papa's girlfriend'. Just matter-of-fact. Like he'd known all along."
"We were so careful," Chris says.
"Apparently not careful enough," Victoria says.
"Are we throwing stones now? The woman who kept a man's daughter away from him for nearly 15 years?" Peter asks.
"Enough," Chris says. "Peter and I will deal with this. Victoria, I would appreciate it if you kept this to yourself. We don't know exactly how things will work with Stiles so we aren't public."
"Fine," Victoria says. "But if this hurts Allison..."
"How would this hurt Allison?" Peter asks impatiently.
Victoria just glares and sweeps from the room.
The visit with Allison wraps up with no further mention of Peter and Chris' relationship with Stiles. Peter doesn't really think that Victoria will say something to Allison, but he can see Chris' worry. Allison and Chris go over some French at the kitchen table for the last hour, which Caleb finds fascinating. Peter makes a mental note to look into language learning for young children and if that's something that even exists.
Allison hugs Chris tightly when she leaves, something that Peter smiles to see. Stiles, standing next to him with Caleb in her arms, looks a bit misty-eyed. Peter nudges her with his elbow and she mouths 'shut up' at him so Caleb doesn't hear or see.
Stiles is stunned when in bed that night, Peter tells her that Caleb knows they're together. If it weren't so serious, Chris would find the way her mouth is hanging open comical.
"He told Victoria that you're our girlfriend," Peter repeats. "She told him two people can't have a girlfriend and he told her she's wrong, which I have to say, made my day."
"I know she was looking at me funny," Stiles murmurs.
"It doesn't change how I feel about you," Chris says.
"Me neither," Peter says. "We'll just have to have a conversation with him."
"What are you going to say?" Stiles asks.
"I have no idea," Peter admits. "I don't want to tell him to keep it a secret, because it's nothing to be ashamed of and I don't want him to think this is wrong, but I don't know how well it will go over at his preschool."
"We aren't ashamed of you," Chris says to Stiles, heading off that train of thought before it can start. "We're just very aware of how poly people are treated."
"I know," Stiles says, though it's still good to hear. But there's something on her mind and it's the perfect segue, even though she's dreading this conversation. "And I think...I think maybe it's time I don't work here anymore."
Peter and Chris still on either side of her.
"What?" Peter asks, recovering first. "Is something wrong?"
"No! No, it's just, it's getting more serious with us. I love you both and I don't want anything to happen work-wise to affect that," Stiles says. "Scott offered me a job at his preschool and I think I should take it."
"Don't move out," Peter says immediately.
"You need the rooms for your next nanny," Stiles says.
"We won't," Chris says. "We'll hire a live-out nanny."
"And that's not even what I meant," Peter says. "Move in with us. Caleb already knows you're ours, so there's no point in you sneaking out of here in the morning. We'll bring your dresser up here, there's room in the closet."
"I can't just live here and mooch off of you," Stiles says.
"You can pay rent if you want," Peter says, though his tone makes it clear what he thinks of that. "But we aren't going to charge you much. We know preschool teachers don't make six figures."
"You're not...you're not mad at me?" Stiles asks.
"Of course not," Chris says. He presses a kiss to her forehead. "You need to do what's best for you. And if this is the best course of action for you, we'll support you."
"You can still be with us and spend time with us, you just won't be working for us anymore."
"You're sure?" Stiles asks.
"It's whatever you're comfortable with," Chris says. "We want to be with you. We want you in our lives."
"I want to be here, it's just..."
"Just what?" Peter prompts.
"I've always seen myself having kids," Stiles says, unable to make eye contact with either one of them. She misses the heated look Peter gives Chris over her head. "Is that something you guys want? Or is this just a fun, short-term thing?"
"I want more kids," Peter says. Stiles turns to him and he puts a hand on the swell of her belly. "I want children with you, whether they be biologically Chris' or mine. I would love to see you swell with our child."
Stiles' mouth goes dry and she feels warmth pool between her thighs. Peter glances over her at Chris, and Stiles turns to see Chris looking at them both with heated eyes.
"I want that with you," Chris says. "You aren't a passing fling. I want you in our lives for all the years to come."
"I want that, too," Stiles says. "I know it's fast and we've been together for less than a year, but in the next year or two, it's something I want."
"That's perfect," Chris says. Peter places a kiss on her neck, making it hard to concentrate. "You're perfect."
Stiles is still wet and open from Chris eating her out, so it's nothing for her to straddle Peter and rub her wet cunt up his hardening shaft. Peter groans, hands tight on her hips, as his thick cock fills. She notches the head at her opening, breathless as he spreads her open. It doesn't hurt, but Peter is always a bit of a stretch. She slowly sinks down, head thrown back, until she's fully seated in Peter's lap. She opens her eyes to see Chris lounging against the headboard, lazily stroking his cock.
"You, too," she says. Chris raises his eyebrows. "In my ass."
Peter's hands spasm on her waist. They both love it when they can both be in her at once, when they can feel each other through that thin wall separating them. Chris doesn't need to be told twice. He reaches into the bedside table's drawer and comes back with a nearly empty bottle of lube. Stiles is rocking slowing on Peter's cock, enough to keep him interested, but not enough that he could come. Chris stills her long enough to trace her rim with one finger before slowly pressing inside. Stiles groans and rocks her hips again, back onto Chris' finger. Peter groans, his claws pricking her skin. She keeps rocking until Chris works up to two fingers, then three, then she's riding Peter harder, desperately needing to be filled.
"I'm good," Stiles says. "Come on, Chris."
Chris takes the time to slick himself up while Stiles bends over until she's nearly chest-to-chest with Peter.
"Hi," she says breathlessly.
"Hello," Peter says. He licks her cheek, making her laugh.
That laugh turns to a moan as Chris presses into her. There's no pain, just that brief feeling of discomfort before she's overwhelmingly full. She whines between them, her head dropping down. She feels split open, like her holes wouldn't close even if she wanted them to. Chris runs a big hand down her back, soothing her.
"Not 'til you're ready," he says, though his voice is tight.
"I'm ready," she says, experimentally rolling her hips.
All three of them groan and she does it again, reveling in the slide of their cocks inside her. Chris takes her waist, his hands right above Peter's, and fucks into her harder. Stiles gasps as his thrust pushes her harder onto Peter's cock. Chris does it again, bending over so she's sandwiched between the two men that she loves. She lets Chris fuck into her from behind, lets Peter thrust up into her, lets them take control of her. She grips Peter's biceps as she's taken apart. There's just enough friction on her clit that she can feel her orgasm building.
Peter and Chris get a rhythm going, one thrusting while the other pulls back so she's never empty. She can't get enough of feeling so split open, so utterly used by the two men she loves. Chris palms roughly at her breast, squeezing the flesh and roughly twisting her nipple.
"Yes," she hisses out. "Fuck, please."
She doesn't even know what she's begging for at this point, just more. Peter delivers, planting his feet on the bed and fucking up into her cunt. She muffles her shriek in his shoulder, clutching at him as her body is used by the two of them. Chris answers Peter with longer, harder thrusts. Stiles feels like she's caught between two tides, pushing and pulling at her. Her body is raw, nothing but pleasure as the two men play with her.
"I'm getting close," she warns.
That just spurns them on, each of them fucking more violently into her. She's chanting their names under her breath when Peter cries out, hands tightening on her as he comes. Chris doesn't stop, just keeps fucking her tight little ass. Peter takes pity of her, reaching between their bodies to play with her clit. She nearly sobs at his touch, her orgasm so close. Peter twists her nipple hard and she has to bite his shoulder to keep from screaming and waking up Caleb. She comes between them, sobbing into Peter's shoulder as waves of pleasure spill over her. Chris grunts and bites at her neck as he comes inside her, filling her ass up.
Stiles is reluctant to let them pull out, loving the full feeling she gets when both of them are inside her, but soon they're softening and slipping from her body anyway. She rolls to the side while Peter gets up to get a warm washcloth for them to clean up with. He wipes at her tenderly, careful not to agitate her sore sex and ass, before giving himself and Chris a cursory wipe. Stiles barely has time to thank him before she's being pulled into Chris' arms, her back to his muscled chest. Peter hums and kisses her before wrapping her arms around her, one hand resting on Chris' hip behind her. It's a bit of a mess, falling asleep tangled like this, but Stiles is used to it by now and wouldn't want it any other way.
Stiles officially puts in her two weeks' notice. It's so close to the holidays that Peter and Chris don't want to hire a new nanny until the new year, so Chris amends his schedule, leaving for work earlier so he can get off early enough to pick Caleb up from preschool. Stiles takes Caleb in the morning, as usual, which she offers to continue doing since it's the same preschool where she'll be working, though with a different class.
Stiles had been worried about how things would change. How will Caleb react to an unconventional relationship? Will he feel like she's taking his dads' time away from him? But Caleb continues on just as normal when Peter and Chris start kissing her goodbye in front of him, or hugging her when one of them gets home. Caleb takes his dads loving Stiles completely in stride. Stiles loves the shit out of Caleb.
Stiles' father, the sheriff, comes up to visit her. Apparently, she'd told him she's still living with Peter and Chris and is working at Scott's preschool, but that's it. Not that she's living with them in their bedroom, not that she's dating them.
"You know you have to tell him," Chris says to her over dinner the night before John's set to drive up.
"I know," Stiles says. "But it's just...he's going to be so dad-ish and judgmental."
"Is he going to want you to stop seeing us?" Peter asks.
"Maybe," Stiles says, picking at her nails. "Probably. I'm not going to," she adds quickly. "But I'm guessing he won't be happy."
She's right. The sheriff stops at his hotel before coming to Chris, Peter, and Stiles' house. She blurts out that she's dating them right after she hugs her dad hello. Peter and Chris wince, Chris pinching the bridge of his nose. Chris is happy they thought to bring Caleb to Mrs. Richards' house.
The shouting is epic. Peter and Chris, both coming from large families, are used to big blow ups, but nothing has prepared them for just how loud and heated Stiles can get. Intellectually, Chris had known she's fiery and known she's not one to toil with, but knowing and seeing are two very different things. Judging by the look in Peter's eye, he loves it. If he had his way, he'd probably sling Stiles over his shoulder and disappear into the bedroom. Chris elbows him and glares.
"What did Scott have to say about this?" John asks.
"Scott isn't my moral compass, Dad," Stiles says, sounding slightly offended. It's all Chris can do not to interrupt and pull Stiles to him. The yelling is winding down to tense talking and keeping to the side while she talks to her dad is hard.
"This isn't acceptable, Stiles!" John says. "This just...this isn't how things are done."
"Dad," Stiles says firmly. "I'm 27, not 17. I'm more than capable of making my own choices. This is what I want. I'm happy. And since when have I ever cared how things are supposed to be done?"
John sighs and runs a hand over his face. He's quiet for a long time and Stiles starts to shift, antsy. Peter puts a hand on her shoulder and Chris puts ones on her back in support.
"You're sure about this?" John asks.
"I'm sure," Stiles says. "I'm in this for the long run, and so are they."
Peter and Chris both nod in agreement.
"It's just hard to realize that I'm not going to walk my little girl down the aisle," John says.
Stiles bristles at that and Chris rubs his hand up and down her back. John eyes it with distaste but Chris doesn't care.
"Maybe you should stop thinking about what you want to do and focus on what I want," Stiles says.
Dinner is tense after that. John keeps shooting glares at Peter and Chris, as if this is all their fault. Stiles gives him a stiff hug as he leaves and confirms that yes, they're still on for taking him downtown tomorrow, as much as Chris isn't looking forward to that.
John makes an effort the next day not to be outright hostile. Whether it's because Caleb is with them or just because he's trying to honor his daughter's request, Chris isn't sure, but he'll take it. John makes forced polite conversation over lunch but is always nice to Caleb. Chris sees Peter tense a few times when John mutters under his breath, so Chris assumes that's nothing good, but he doesn't growl or say anything, so Chris doesn't ask.
Things get better after lunch. John is able to talk to Peter about his classes and to Chris about his business without glaring. He even cracks a smile once or twice. By the end of the day when he's packing up his car, he's looking at them all thoughtfully, as if he's piecing together how they fit. Chris and Peter haven't held back their affection for Stiles in front of him, and she hasn't either. Chris is hoping this will show that they aren't using her, but in reality it could just make it worse.
"You're sure?" John asks as he's leaving.
"I'm sure, dad," Stiles says.
"I think it's a bad idea, but I guess they're all right. I'm behind you, kid. If this is what you want, I support you," he says.
He and Stiles hug for a long time before he leaves.
"Is it going to bother you, not walking down the aisle?" Chris asks that night. They're lying in bed, Chris in the middle. He's running his fingertips down Stiles' bare side. She shivers a little and squirms when he finds a ticklish spot.
"We can have a ceremony," Peter says. "Even if it isn't legal in the eyes of the law, we can have a commitment ceremony if you want one."
"Maybe," Stiles says with a shrug. "Being married was never my end-all, be-all. But at some point...yeah a ceremony would be nice."
Chris leans over to kiss her.
"We would happily do that for you," he murmurs against her lips.
A few months after Stiles officially moves into the master bedroom with Peter and Chris, when they've been dating for nine months, it's spring break for Peter. It's hard for Stiles to believe it's already been a year since Caleb was pushed on the playground and sprained his wrist. Chris plans a vacation in Hawaii for Peter, Stiles, and himself. Caleb is happy to stay with Mrs. Richards because her granddaughter, a vivacious four-year-old named Chantel, is going to be staying with her, too.
Stiles is a bit wary of Hawaii over spring break, but the resort they book is far away from the college spring break festivities, much to their collective relief. The resort is small and the sandy beach is secluded from the world around them, so it feels like it's just them and a handful of other people on the whole island. Stiles enjoys the scandalized looks they get when Stiles makes out with Chris then Peter, or when Peter and Chris kiss before kissing her. Peter rolls his eyes at her, but Stiles doesn't care, she knows he likes fucking with people just as much as she does.
Stiles wears the same small string bikini that she wore in Mexico, but this time, Peter and Chris don't bother to hide how they stare at her. It's fine with Stiles, she's appreciating them walking around in their swim trunks all the time. Both of them are beautifully built and she gets a little thrill of excitement knowing she can touch them both. Peter always gives her a leering smile when he smells the lust rolling off of her. It doesn't matter if they're in public, he'll run his hand down her back, resting on the swell of her ass, or touch her thighs, tug her closer by her hips, anything he knows will turn her on more. They end up with sand in some places when they get overexcited at the beach. Chris laughs and doesn't help them clean up.
They have one night left when Peter and Chris ask what's wrong.
"Nothing," Stiles says, confused. "Why?"
"You've been biting your lip for the last five hours," Chris says.
Stiles immediately lets her lip go, smiling sheepishly.
"Nothing, really," Stiles says.
"You're too good at lying to a werewolf," Peter says quietly with a pout, making sure no one at nearby tables overhear.
"I'm not lying," Stiles says indignantly. "I'm sidestepping the truth."
"Okay, so what is the truth?" Chris asks.
"I'm nervous, okay?" Stiles says.
"Nervous about what? Us?" Chris asks.
"No!" Stiles says loudly. A few patrons look over at them and she blushes. "No," she says again, quieter. "I just want to talk to you about something and don't know how to start."
"Well, now's your opening," Peter says.
"Yeah, I guess so," Stiles says. She takes a deep breath. Okay, I'm an adult, I can do this. "I'm ready to have a baby. I'm not trying to rush you or anything, I'm just letting you know where I'm at. And I guess wanting to see where you're at with that?"
"I'm ready," Peter says immediately, his eyes gleaming. "I've just been waiting for you, sweetheart."
"You're sure?" Chris says. "I don't want us to be pushing you into something you're not ready for."
"I know what I want. I'm 27, I'm an adult," Stiles reminds them. "I want to have a child with you. Er, both of you. One of you?"
"It will be all of our child," Peter says. "Just because one of us won't be the biological father doesn't mean that we aren't all parents."
Stiles smiles hesitantly. "Does that mean we're trying?"
Peter and Stiles look at Chris, the only one who hasn't expressly stated his thoughts.
"We're trying," Chris says with a smile.
Stiles grins and gets up to throw her arms around Peter, then Chris, and kiss them both. A few people look at them with disgust, but Stiles is used to people not understanding them and she doesn't care at all.
That night is the first time they purposefully fuck without condoms. They've forgotten before in the heat of the moment, but this is different. This is with purpose. This is to impregnate her.
Peter takes her first, making love to her reverently as she suckles Chris' cock. He pulls two orgasms from her before he comes deep in her sweet pussy, eyes closed in bliss. Chris fucks her harder, like he can't hold back how much he wants this to happen. He makes her come right when he does, her fluttering cunt drawing his come out of him. They all rest for a while, exhausted. But right before Stiles is about to fall asleep, she feels Peter harden against her stomach. She rolls her hips and spreads her legs, making it easy for him to slip into her.
She's wet and open by now, their combined come seeping out of her. Peter adds another load, a hand spread on her belly as he does. Chris pushes into her only seconds after Peter pulls out, not giving time for any of their come to spill out. He presses into her slowly, working her up to her orgasm this time. She comes with a shout, loving that she can be as loud as she wants here, as Chris buries himself to the hilt, cock pumping her full of him.
Stiles falls asleep exhausted and sore, and to be frank, not excited to have to sit down for almost six hours for the plane ride home.
A few weeks after they get home, the entire family drives up to see Allison in her archery tournament. Peter can tell Chris and Stiles are both nervous. They've been dating for long enough that they've decided it's time to tell Allison about their relationship with Stiles. Peter knows that Chris is worried about Allison's reaction, and that Stiles is worried about Chris' reaction to Allison's reaction. Peter himself is worried about Stiles' reaction to Chris' reaction to Allison's reaction. Caleb is only worried about if he gets his afternoon snack.
Allison is all smiles when they meet her in the parking lot of the range where the tournament is to take place. She hugs them all, even Stiles, when they get out of the car. She's with Victoria and a pretty Asian girl who's smiling at them shyly.
"Dad," Allison says (Peter can see Chris freeze in shock; to his knowledge, it's the first time Allison has called him that), "this is my girlfriend, Kira. Kira, this is my dad, Chris, and his husband Peter. That's Caleb and Stiles, their nanny."
Chris winces a bit at 'nanny' but Peter knows this isn't the time to correct her.
"It's nice to meet you, Kira," Chris says and shakes her hand. Kira smiles back and says the same before shaking each of their hands.
"We should go in," Victoria says. "It should be starting soon."
Peter hadn't even know that archery ranges exist, though in hindsight he probably should have. Gun ranges exist, don't they? They take a seat in the stands behind protective glass to watch. Peter sits, putting Kira, Stiles, Caleb, and Chris between him and Victoria. They all clap politely when each person finishes, and cheer raucously when it's Allison's turn. She smiles briefly at them before her face goes suddenly serious.
Peter sees more of Chris in her in this moment that he ever has before. The way she looks concentrating, the sheer confidence and steadiness, that's all Chris. She hits her target each time. Peter seriously wonders if she's thought about going for the Olympic team. He's sure it's crossed Victoria's mind.
Allison wins her division, to no one's surprise, and runs to them after accepting her trophy. She kisses Kira, who blushes bright red, but looks pleased, before hugging her mom and Chris. They go out for Mongolian grill and Caleb chatters away happily with Allison and Kira, both who seem content to listen to him, until he gets absorbed in his noodles. Peter is on clean up duty and is doing his very best to make sure he keeps the three-and-a-half-year-old's food on his plate and not on the floor, but there's only so much he can do.
When Kira goes to the bathroom, Chris takes the opportunity to talk without being overheard. Stiles and he both look nervous, so Peter does his best to look as calm as possible, though to be honest, he's anxious about Allison's reaction as well.
"Allison, we need to tell you something," Chris says and gee, bad things never start off like that. Peter manages not to roll his eyes at his husband, but it's close. "I know this is...unorthodox, but Peter and I are, well..."
"You're not getting divorced, are you?" Allison asks, eyeing Caleb who luckily seems too engrossed in his food to hear.
"What? No!" Chris says. "Nothing like that. Peter and I are dating Stiles."
"Oh thank god," Allison says.
"....What?" Chris asks.
"You're not very subtle," Allison says. "I kind of thought you and Peter might have been cheating on each other with her, no offense."
Stiles looks to Peter like she absolutely takes offense to that, but she doesn't say anything.
"You're not angry?" Chris asks.
"No, why would I be? It's your lives," Allison says, taking a bite of her chicken. "The guy who runs the archery range has two boyfriends. You love who you love."
Chris is staring at her in surprise when Kira gets back from the bathroom. She eyes the table warily and says, "Should I go back to bathroom?"
"No, you're fine," Peter says, gesturing for her to sit because Chris apparently isn't capable of words right now. Victoria looks highly amused and Peter actually makes eye contact with her without flinching, both of them smiling a bit at Chris' sudden muteness.
"They were just telling me how they're in a triad relationship with Stiles," Allison says.
"Oh," Kira says looking surprised. "Okay."
Peter snorts into his plate at the look on Chris' face.
When Stiles has been dating Peter and Chris for a year, Caleb asks his dads if he can call Stiles Mom. Peter and Chris glance at each other, having a silent conversation, before telling him that if it's okay with Stiles, he can. Stiles cries when Caleb asks her.
"I'm sorry, don't cry!" Caleb says, hugging Stiles.
"No, no this is happy crying," Stiles assures him, hugging him back. He has a firm grip for someone nearly four-years-old. "Yes, you can call me Mom."
"Thanks, Mom, now stop crying!"
Allison comes down to spend a week with them over her summer break. Victoria has a very pinched look on her face when she drops her off, but Chris promises her everything will be okay. He'll call her if anything goes wrong. Allison takes the guest room located across the hall from Caleb. Caleb tries to stay with her at night, but Chris firmly tells him that no, he's a big boy now and he sleeps in his own bed. Allison reads him a bedtime story every night before he goes to bed though, so he seems okay with it.
Stiles is off work for the summer, Chris is able to take some time off work, but Peter has to teach summer classes and isn't able to be around everyday. Stiles and Chris take Allison and Caleb down to the lake, and to the zoo, then take on a tour of the city. They even walk around Peter's college for a bit. Chris likes the look in her eyes as she takes everything in, like she might be considering applying here. She's going into her junior year, so it's a few years away, but it's never too early to hope.
Stiles and Allison bond over board games of all things.
"Peter cheats," Stiles tells Allison as she makes her move. They're playing Sorry! with Chris, having just finished a rousing game of Risk. They're both much more invested than he is. "So Chris cheats right back."
"Rude," Allison says.
"It's hard to play Risk with someone who tries to illegally take Australia," Stiles says.
"Peter likes to win," Chris says.
"And I like to play without dirty cheaters," Stiles says, nudging him playfully. Allison smiles at them.
"You guys are cute together," she says.
"Yeah?" Stiles says with a smile. "The age difference doesn't bother you?"
"Nah," Allison says. "Like I said, you love who you love."
They all spend Allison's last night with them sitting on the floor of the family room playing Candy Land with Caleb.
It's six months later that Stiles becomes pregnant. She'd been starting to worry that it wouldn't happen. Is it normal for it to take nine months to get pregnant? Stiles doesn't know and she'd been too scared to research it in case it looked like something was wrong. Peter and Chris have been taking turns with her, making sure her cunt isn't empty for long. Peter will scoop any come that leaks out of her back into her cunt, loving to see her full from them. Stiles loves the feeling of come dripping from her, smearing her thighs with it. She loves the desperation with which they fuck her, how many times a day they'll take her if they can. They find the time throughout the day for one of them to fuck her at least once, and with both of their appetites, it's usually much more than that. It's rare that she isn't walking around stuffed full of their seed.
It's Peter who notices that she smells differently. He doesn't tell her for a few days, before suggesting that she take a pregnancy test. Stiles tries not to get her hopes up, but she trusts Peter's nose for these things. Her period's late, but she's never really been that regular anyway so she hasn't thought much of it.
She lets Peter and Chris into the bathroom after she pees on the stick and sets it on a paper towel on the sink. They sit with her in silence for the few minutes it takes for the results to show up. They sit on each side of her on the edge of the bathtub, each of them holding one of her hands.
"I can't look," Stiles says. "One of you guys do it."
Peter kisses her temple before standing and picking up the test. He stands there, staring at it for a few moments before speaking.
"It's positive," he says, voice rough. "It's positive. You're pregnant."
"I am?" Stiles asks. "Oh my god, yes!"
Peter drops to his knees between her legs and buries his face against her belly.
"I don't care whose it is. Mine, Christopher's, it doesn't matter," Peter says fervently. "It's ours. Ours."
"We don't need to find out," Chris says. "We don't need a DNA test."
"I don't need to know," Stiles says, carding her fingers through Peter's hair. "It doesn't matter to me. You're both her or his father."
Chris wraps an arm around her and kisses her, apparently unable to hold back. Stiles feels like she's about to burst with happiness. But fuck, there's so much to do, so many doctor's appointments, and people to notify, and -
As if sensing her impending panic, Peter sits up on his knees so they're eye level.
"We can do this," Peter says confidently. "You can do this."
"We're going to have a baby," Stiles says quietly, her face breaking out in a grin. She can't help the tears gathering in her eyes. "We're going to have a baby!"
"We are," Peter says, hugging her tightly. Chris wraps his arms around the both of them.
"We are," he echoes.
They sit there for a long time, awkwardly wrapped together on the edge of the bathtub, until they finally untangle and Stiles groans.
"What?" Chris asks in concern.
"Oh my god, I'm going to have to tell my dad," Stiles says.
Peter had expected John to hit the roof in all honesty. He'd expected to be threatened with a gun, or hit. He hadn't expected John to go into super grandpa mode. They waited a few weeks to tell him, they wanted be sure the chance of miscarriage dropped. He went quiet on the phone and even Peter had to struggle to hear that he was still breathing. Then John was crying, telling Stiles how happy he is, how he's going to have a grandchild. When Stiles reminds him of Caleb, he promises to dote on him just as much.
Talia is ecstatic too, though less pleased that they aren't going to find out who the father is. She points out that the child might be a werewolf, but Peter calmly says that they both know he'd be able to tell as soon as the baby is born if it's a werewolf or not and to stop raining on his parade. The rest of the pack is thrilled and demand to know when they can come down and meet Stiles. Peter's just happy that they're asking.
Allison is just as excited as John is.
"I get another little sibling?" she asks excitedly.
"We don't know who the biological father is," Chris cautions her.
"I don't care," Allison says. "You're one of their fathers, that makes me their sister."
Peter really adores Allison.
"I'm scared," Stiles admits one night.
Peter and Stiles are lying together on the couch, one of his hands spread protectively over her swollen belly. Caleb is asleep in Chris' arms on the love seat.
"Scared of what, love?" Peter asks her.
"What if I'm a bad mother?" she asks.
"Not possible," Chris says. "You're a perfect mother to Caleb. How could you be anything but perfect to our baby?"
Stiles smiles at him, her eyes watery.
"Sorry, pregnancy brain," she says.
"Don't ever apologize, darling" Chris says. "Anything you need that's what we're here for."
"Face is, sweetheart, you're stuck with us now," Peter teases.
"Oh no, whatever shall I do?" Stiles says.
"We've got this," Peter says, playing with the soft skin where her shirt's ridden up.
Yeah, she thinks. They're got this.