“In your heart, in your head, in your arms, in your bed under your skin
‘til there’s no way to know where you end and where I begin.”
- Fade into you
When Stiles woke up that morning he didn’t expect his day would end with Peter laying a plastic tarp out on his king sized bed and asking him to stab him.
“I’m sorry you want me to do what?”
“You heard me darling”
“Don’t pretend you haven’t thought of it stiles. I can smell how turned on you get every time we fight the “big bad” of the week. You get hard every time you swing your bat, every time you see me rip a throat out. Well now here’s you chance to finally be able to do something about it.”
“You’re just okay with me stabbing you? Okay with being that vulnerable, letting me have that much power over you?”
“Yes stiles. I trust you and I want this just as bad.”
He would be lying if he didn’t admit he had noticed before. He couldn’t count the times he had looked over at a panting bloody Peter and seen the front of his pants tented, seen the way his eyes darkened from more than just adrenaline. Making up his mind he started to strip and slowly walked over to peter who was sitting up against the head board of the bed nonchalantly like Stiles wasn’t about to cut his chest open. Straddling him he picked up the knife from where it was resting next to Peter and hesitantly started to softly drag it across Peter’s chest.
“You won’t hurt me stiles, ill heal anything you do to me so no need to hold back.”
Well who was he to deny Peter that request so slowly he sunk the knife into Peter’s chest with a small gasp. Pulling out the knife with a wet squelch Stiles heard a low groan from Peter that had Stiles rutting into the hard planes of Peters stomach. Again and again he stabbed him, working his way from shoulder to stomach. When Peter was harshly panting Stiles gently trailed the knife down down down, coming to a stop right at the tip of his penis. Stiles looked up into Peters supernaturally blue eyes, asking for silent permission. One small nod and he brought the sharp point of cold steel all the way to base causing a shiver to run through the body underneath him. One swift slice and Peter came with a shout, thick ropes of come shooting all over his chest. Trembling Stiles tore his gaze away from the quickly healing cut and leant down to whisper in Peter’s ear,
“How much did you love that?”
The only answer he got was Peter’s ragged breathing mixing with his own. He started to rut on Peter with an uncontrolled rhythm, desperately trying to find release. Peter leaned into his neck, sucking a bruise into the soft skin.
“Come for me Stiles.”
When Peter sunk his teeth into the bruise he just made, he came with a shout. If not for Peters strong arms around him Stiles swears he would have just slid right of the bed from the power of that orgasm.
“God I can’t believe you let me do that.”
“There’s nothing I would deny you. Nothing I wouldn’t trust you with, darling boy.”
Shit he was gone for this man, completely ass over tea kettle crazy for him. Any sane person would be at least concerned for the soul crushing amount of feelings currently coursing through him, the absolute possessiveness he felt for Peter but he guesses if he were sane he never would have just spent the night with blood all over him.
“Holy fucking shit I love you.” He exhaled against Peters lips.
Pressing his forehead against his own peter whispered, “I assure you the feeling is entirely mutual love.”