Peter never made it a secret that he was fond of Stiles - quite the opposite in fact. He made sure to tease the teen all the time. To stand a little too close to him. To let his breath ghost over an exposed neck and watch as Stiles shuddered. He enjoyed the way he could make Stiles' blood rush through his veins with a simple grin or compliment.
Their constant back and forth was something he treasured for no one else bothered to have that kind of interaction with him unless it also involved cutting him down in some way. Then again, Stiles never had the most positive reactions afterwards either, preferring to stay away from Peter whenever he could (which was most of the time unless something terrible happened).
So Peter grew to accept that his feelings would always be one-sided which is why it surprised him that the first thing Stiles did after realizing that it was Peter that had pulled him aside was throwing his arms around him and pulling him close.
For a few moments Peter didn't dare to move, afraid that this would turn out to be another hallucination caused by the place they were in - or worse - that he would find himself back in Eichen House. However, the heat of Stiles' body pressed against his was too much of a temptation to not give in, so Peter hugged him back.
Peter let the hug linger. He hoped that Stiles couldn't feel how his body shook as he soaked in the first positive physical contact he had in a long time. His pride was one of the few things he had left in this strange place. He'd prefer to keep it.
Reluctantly, he untangled himself from Stiles. Peter took his time to look at Stiles more closely, knowing that he got the same treatment. Stiles looked so different since the last time he saw him back in Mexico. Gone were the long overly gelled spiky bangs that made him look the 'insane' part of insane genius. His eyes were a level of tired Peter hadn't seen since the aftermath of the nogitsune. The horrible plaid had stayed of course.
(Not that he really minded the plaid anymore since Stiles got better at choosing shirts that at least looked good on him. The one he was wearing at the moment however was not one of those.)
Stiles' eyes moved to his hair. “I like what you did with the hair,” he said as he slowly reached out to touch it, giving Peter the choice to pull away. As if he would pull away when everything in him screamed to lean into a touch so freely given by one of the few persons that still meant something to him.
“You learn to cope when you don't have your preferred choice available. Eichen House is many things, but a barber shop it is not,” Peter said and enjoyed the sight of Stiles lips curving into a smile before it turned into a frown.
“Speaking off – how did you get out of there?”
“Well, I was minding my own business like any other day when suddenly the doors opened. Who am I to not walk out a prison door when it's so nice to open on its own? My success was short lived however, as I found myself here a couple of hours later.”
Stiles removed his hand from Peter's hair to scratch the back of his head. “Yeah, that was us. They drilled a hole in Lydia's head and made her a ticking time bomb for a bit there.”
“What?” Peter asked.
Stiles quickly waved his concern away. “No one died and she got better in the last 3 months.”
“3 months? I've been gone for 3 months and nobody saw it fit to look for me?”
The only way Stiles hands would've been raised in surrender faster, was if he were a were-creature. “We would've come for you if we remembered that you existed in the first place. Not that I didn't tell them for the last 3 months that something was going on and- oh... ” Stiles trailed off obviously having come to a realization. One that Peter could read of his face easily, but choose not to comment on. If he was right about what the riders were, there would be more than enough time later.
“Sounds like the wild hunt.” Stiles eyes focused on him again. “They ride the lightning and once they got you, you're doomed to ride the storm forever.”
Stiles pressed his lips together. “That...doesn't sound very good.”
Peter just raised an eye brow.
“Okay. So maybe it's very very very bad. Sounds like one of the worst things that could happen, actually. But,” Stiles took Peter's hands in his. “Hunters couldn't hold us. Eichen House couldn't hold us. Even death couldn't hold us. I don't see what would make this place so special that they'd think we'd stay here...forever,” he squeezed Peter's hands slightly. “And now that we're together there is really no holding us back.”
Peter's eyes flew over Stiles face taking in his smile and bright eyes as Stiles' pulse skyrocketed to something he only ever heard back in that parking garage when his fangs were so close to that thin wrist. Without any further hesitation he pulled Stiles closer and kissed him.
As their mouths moved together Stiles wasted no time to free his hands so he could run his fingers through Peter's hair. Meanwhile, Peter grabbed Stiles' hips and slowly backed him into the pillar he had him pushed up against mere minutes ago. When Stiles' back came into contact with it he broke the kiss to let out a small sound of discomfort.
Peter took the chance to kiss down Stiles' neck while his hands slowly found their way underneath Stiles' shirt, his wolf taking pride in every moan that left Stiles' lips. When he reached the (sadly) rather high collar of Stiles' shirt, he buried his nose in his shoulder and breathed him in. He felt Stiles arms warp around him to hold him close.
They stood like that for a long time, their breathing slowed as they lulled each other into a relaxed state they haven't been able to enter in years – Stiles since the nogitsune and Peter since before the Hales burned, since he burned.
Stiles was right. Nothing could hold them while they were apart and now that they were together this place didn't stand a ghost of a chance.