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'Tis the Season

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Stiles is back from college for Christmas. He couldn't afford to fly all the way from New York to L.A. then drive two hours to Beacon Hills for Thanksgiving. So he Skyped his dad, Scott, Melissa and Chris, it wasn't the same as being there but he made do.

He was so happy to back in his old room and in a non-lumpy bed that he hadn't noticed the odd little changes. Not at first, when he came down for breakfast on the twenty-fourth Stiles saw how the couch now had throw cushions and a blanket.

There was a vase of flowers on the kitchen side and a few candles dotted around. When he searched his dad's usual hiding spots there was no junk food, the fridge actually had vegetables in it.

Stiles made some coffee and drummed his fingers on the table. Then at nine o'clock the lock sounded in the door and soon enough his dad's familiar, heavy footsteps brought the man into the kitchen doorway.

"Hey, kiddo. You got in alright then?"

"Yeah, dad. Got in fine. There's coffee for you." Stiles was waiting for his dad to sit down before bombarding him with questions.

"Oh, thanks." Dad smiled tiredly and poured a cup. "I'm glad you're here, son. There's something I wanted to tell you."

"I'm assuming it has something to do with the throw pillows and the flowers and the vegetables in the fridge."

Looking a bit guilty dad nodded and sits opposite Stiles at the kitchen table. "I've been seeing someone. She, well Stiles, she makes me happy."

"How long?" Stiles asks.

"Eight months or so."

Stiles chokes on air. "Eight months and you're only telling me now?"

"I didn't know how to tell you and Talia said it wasn't something I could say over the phone."

"Talia? Talia Hale?" Stiles' voice is getting higher and higher, "Mayor Talia Hale?"

"Yes Stiles. Talia Hale. She's a lovely woman."

Lovely is not the word Stiles would use to describe her. Intimidating, sure. Terrifying, that's another one. Cold, absolutely. Stiles doesn't really like her, he has always gotten the impression that she doesn't like him either.

His dad is still talking though. "Talia has invited us to spend Christmas Day with her and her family."

"Christmas with the Hales." Stiles says faintly. Laura is a deputy with his dad, she's cool but has little time for him when he's nosing around. Derek is the middle child, he's in his last year at college doing history or something similar. Cora was in Stiles' year, she was terrifying. She'd punch Jackson for making homophobic comments about or to Stiles but she'd also push Stiles into lockers so...

"Talia says her brother is down from New York as well as the kids being back from college." His dad wipes his face. "I'm beat. I'm going to get some sleep then I'll head out to Talia's this afternoon. You can come along or join us in the morning."

Stiles watches his dad walk away. He feels overwhelmingly sad, they're not going to do their midnight tradition. Every year since his mom died Stiles' dad woke him at midnight so they could exchange one present each. This year that isn't happening and Stiles is angry at Talia and his dad and all the fucking Hales on earth.

He slams his cup in the sink, goes and has a shower before heading out. Stiles is too angry to want to deal with people so he heads to the Preserve. He grabs his baseball bat and walks deep away from where he parked his jeep. Then, sheltered and alone Stiles takes his bat to the trees and rocks and ground. He lets out frustrated and wordless shouts.

Soon enough he's panting and sweaty. Stiles takes some deep breaths and realises he's not along. He spins to see a good looking man with light stubble and bright blue eyes watching him. The man is wearing exercise gear and a smirk.

"Don't stop on my account. I am so enjoying the view."

"Fuck you," Stiles retorts.

"If you'd like. I'm open either way," he eyes Stiles' bat, amusement dancing in his eyes "I pitch and catch. If you get my drift."

"Your code is not that difficult to crack, dude."

"My name is Peter."

Stiles pauses. Of course, he's Peter Hale, well now he's just become a lot more interesting. "Good," Stiles smirks, "I like to know what to scream when I come."

Peter's smile becomes sharp. "And when would you like to come?"

"Tonight?" Stiles sees Peter raise his eyebrows in surprise. "I'm treating myself for Christmas."

"Well I better on my best wrapping instead of this old get up." Peter pushes off the tree he was leaning against. "I'll see you at seven, outside Lorenzo's."

"It's a date." Stiles agrees and he shamelessly watches Peter's ass as he jogs away.


Lorenzo's is a fancy place. Not too fancy that Stiles can't afford it but not a place he can wear his usual attire.

Stiles dresses in a dark red button down shirt that he wore to graduation with tight black skinny jeans. He goes downstairs surprised his dad is still at home. He glanced over Stiles with approval, "are you coming with me? To Talia's?"

"Maybe tomorrow. I have a date."

"Tonight? On Christmas Eve?" Dad asks incredulously.

"Yep." Stiles obnoxiously pops the 'p'. "It's not like you're going to be here."

"Now that's not fair." Dad says firmly.

"But true." Stiles picks his jacket off the hook by the door and tugs it on. "I'd say don't wait up but ..."

Dad sighs, his eyes dark and Stiles is itching for a fight, dad can sense it because his shoulders drop and all he says is "have fun and be safe."

"See you tomorrow." Stiles strides for the door, he's angry and his dad knows he's angry. It's not because he's seeing someone, Stiles has wanted his dad to move on with his life for years. It's because Stiles doesn't really like Talia Hale, it's because found out today that's he's been seeing her for eight months, it's because it's Christmas Eve and they aren't spending it together.

He pulls into a carpark and makes the short walk to Lorenzo's the sidewalk is surprisingly busy but Stiles manages to spot Peter near the window. He's dashing in his pale blue shirt, dark blue jeans and leather jacket.

"Hello," Peter purrs when he sees Stiles.

"Hi Peter."

Peter's lips curl upwards, "do I get your name now?"

Stiles snort. "As if you don't know it already."

The loud laugh Peter let's out startles some people passing by, Stiles moves close enough that their chests brush. "Can I kiss you Peter?"

"Before our date has even started, Stiles?"

"Yes." Stiles answers simply and Peter's eyes rove over his face seriously before he leans in. Stiles watches him come closer only closing his eyes when their lips meet.

The kiss isn't soft, Peter is demanding with his lips and tongue. Stiles matches his intensity, hands coming up to curl in the lapels of the leather jacket tugging Peter close. Peter slips an arm around Stiles' waist.

They slow the movement of their lips and barely break apart. "Woah." Stiles lets out a huff of laughter.

He feels Peter's breath against his lips then the man says "shall we eat?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."  Reluctantly Stiles untangled himself from Peter, he takes hold of Peter's hand grinning when he raises an eyebrow. Peter adjusts his grip and leads Stiles inside the restaurant.

They're soon seated at a table near the back. The place is busy. Lorenzo's is one of the only food places aside from the diner that is open on Christmas Eve.

"How did you manage to get a reservation?"

Peter smirks. "I know people."

"So do I but it wouldn't get me this."

"The brother of the Mayor has more pull than the son of the Sheriff. No offense, darling.

Stiles startled at the endearment. Peter frowns and leans back. "Too much?"

Shaking his head Stiles gives him a wry smile, "you've had your tongue in my mouth I'm highly unlikely to be spooked by a single word."

Peter watches him intently and silently. Stiles starts to fidget with the napkin and the cutlery but he doesn't look away from Peter's face.

"Did you like it?" Peter asks finally. He moves so he can rest his forearms on the table, hand coming to rest over one of Stiles' and his chest pressing against the table edge as he leans. "Do you like it when I call you, darling?"

"Yes," Stiles answers hoarsely.

"What about baby?"

"Maybe." Stiles flushes and lowers his voice, "during sex."

"Noted. "Sweetheart?"

"No." Stiles tenses up and Peter strokes the back of his hand. "It's what my mom used to call me."

"Alright, darling. That's alright." Peter goes to say more but they are interrupted by a waitress. Stiles vaguely recognises her from school.

"Good evening gentlemen, can I get you any drinks?"

"I'll have a glass of your house red." Peter says and Stiles, feels embarrassed like a kid playing at an adult.

"Can I have a coke please?" He refuses to look at either of them. The waitress walks away and Peter's hand tightens on his.

"Look at me, baby."

Stiles sucks in a breath and faces Peter. He's smiling softly, "Stiles I am aware of your age. It doesn't matter if you can't have alcohol."

"Should the brother of the Mayor be seen with the barely legal son of the Sheriff?" Stiles snaps.

To his surprise Peter laughs. "Barely legal is still legal. And I have to confess, it wasn't Talia's name that I dropped but my own."

When Stiles frowns Peter continues to explain, "the owners were friends of my parents. I was closer to them, they were more like parents to me when I was a child. Lorenzo and Maria treated me like the son they never had. When I went to college, I rarely came home and I barely spoke to my family, Talia included."

Stiles turns his hand over under Peter's to curl their fingers together. Peter gives him a soft smile. "I kept in frequent contact with Lorenzo and Maria. I spoke to them weekly. Whenever I came to town I would see them first." Peter's grip becomes tight and he seems at a loss of what to say next but Stiles knows.

"Then the crash." Stiles fills in. Peter nods.

"The bastard of a drink driver got off with a find because he had a good lawyer and money. I became a lawyer so people like him would be punished. Lorenzo and Maria left everything to me, they had no children of their own."

Stiles stares at him. "You own this place?" He hisses and when Peter smirks all Stiles can do is laugh. "That's insane."

The waitress places their drinks down with an "I'll come back for your order."

Peter and Stiles share a smile before coming to an unspoken agreement to take a moment to look at the menu.

"So, what's good here?" Stiles asks as he looks over the meals on offer.

"Everything." Peter smiles sharply.

"Of course," Stiles rolls his eyes. "Dad always told me never to eat spaghetti on a first date."

"Maria always said the opposite. Eat spaghetti because it's messy and you'll never try to be perfect."

"Huh." Stiles stares back down at the menu. Peter's foot hooks around his ankle. Stiles smiles.

The waitress comes back. "Have we decided gentlemen?"

Stiles looks at Peter who inclines his head with a challenging expression. "I'll have the spaghetti and meatballs please."

Peter's smile widens, "make that two, please, Erica."

"Sure thing, boss." She walks away after taking their menus.

"Ah, that's who she is." Stiles nods.


"Yeah she- I was at school with her. She looks good."

Peter tuts. "You shouldn't be looking at other people when you're on a date with me, darling."

Rolling his eyes Stiles reaches for Peter's hand. "Peter, I didn't mean it like that. She was sick a lot at school and some asshole posted a video of her seizing online. I just meant she looks healthy and happy."

"Ah yes, her epilepsy. We work around that and her triggers. She's great with people, she takes orders and doesn't deliver plates of food and doesn't use the screen. It helps she's on the right medication too."

That makes Stiles pause. It's an odd thing for an employer to say. "Did- did you sort out her medicine?"

Peter stills. "You're quick, I'll give you that. I did not expect you to make that leap."

"I'm a certified genius." Stiles deadpans. "I'm taking that as a yes, by the way."

"That's alright, darling, because it was a yes."

They watch each other silently for a little while. Peter eventually picks up his wine glass, has a sip then licks his lips and says "tell me about yourself."

"I'm one hundred and forty seven pounds of skin and bone, sarcasm is my weapon of choice and I have ADHD."

Peter chuckles, "not what I meant, darling."

"I know." Stiles winks.

"What are you studying?"

"Psychology." Stiles likes the way Peter's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Weren't expecting that were you?"

"Honestly? No, I assumed something with criminology."

"I got a full scholarship to Columbia. Their psych department is pretty good and it's interesting. Learning how people tick, what makes them do what they do. I might take it in a criminology way later on, find out why people commit the crimes they do but for now I'm just an undergrad."

"A full scholarship to Columbia." Peter repeats.

"For fours years of study, yep." Stiles smirks.

Peter has a stunned expression. "You certainly are a certified genius, darling."

Stiles preens. "What about you, Mister Lawyer?"

"You know what I do."

"For your job. What do you do for fun, where do you practice?"

"Funnily enough, I'm in Manhattan too." Peter moves back as a waiter comes over with their food.

Stiles gives him a little quirk of an eyebrow, "well how about that."

They share a heated look before picking up their cutlery and starting to eat. It is messy and fun, Stiles hasn't laughed so much during a date before. Not that he's been on many, he never really had a date in high school and the few he's been on at college were nowhere near as good as this one.

Seeing Peter with tomato sauce splatters around his mouth makes Stiles feel less self-conscious about how he eats. The spaghetti is messy but it's fantastic.

When their plates are clear and they've wiped their faces clean Stiles steals a sip of Peter's wine because he long ago finished his coke.

Peter takes the glass back, fingers trailing deliberately over Stiles' then he turns the glass around to put his lips where Stiles' mouth had been.

"Do you want dessert?" Stiles asks.

"I want you." Peter states bluntly.

"Fuck yes," Stiles breathes.

Draining the last bit of wine, Peter stands and holds his hand out. Stiles takes it threading their fingers together. Peter doesn't pay he just leaves bringing Stiles with him. He pauses to speak to a woman front of house but she waves him away with a wink.

They walk a little way down the street, pausing in front of a closed cafe. The streets are quieter and calmer but there are still people around.

"Did you drive here?"

"Yeah, my jeeps just around the corner." Stiles turns to put his arms around Peter's neck pushing their bodies together. Peter's hands come up to hold his hips. "I would invite you back to mine but I'm staying at my dad's and it's a single bed. I also only have lube and no condoms."

Peter drops his shoulders in disappointment. "I'm staying at Talia's. I have lube and condoms, though."

"My dad is staying the night at Talia's." Stiles gets a wicked idea and he smirks, "he did say I was welcome to come in the morning."

With a calculating look, Peter looks at his watch. "It's nearly half nine, now. We could go for a walk, get some ice cream. They'll all be in bed by ten."

"So we could continue our date. Then go to yours and my dad will be so pleased I'm there in the morning." Even Stiles can hear the bitterness in his tone. It makes Peter take a step back, forcing Stiles to drop his hands from his shoulders.

"Is this so you can get back at your dad?" Peter drops his hands from Stiles' hips and crosses them over his chest. "You're angry with him for dating Talia."

"No. Well, not entirely. Yes I'm angry at him but not for dating Talia, but for dating Talia for eight months without saying anything to me until Christmas Eve. He then tells me he's spending the night with her, which is fine, I get that but we have our tradition at midnight and he's just fucking off and hell yeah, I'm pissed." Stiles takes a deep breath. "But, I like you. I'm attracted to you Peter, I want to have sex with you because you're hot like burning, and you're smart and sarcastic and funny. Not as a revenge thing against my dad."

"I'm not a perk then."

"Not at all." Stiles moves forward and puts his cold hands on Peter's neck making him shiver, and he leans in to give Peter a gentle kiss on the lips. Peter kisses him back softly, sliding his hands into the back pockets of Stiles' jeans taking handfuls of his ass. They break apart from their kiss and Stiles whispers against Peter's lips "I'd like to continue exploring this in New York when I go back to school."

"I could be amenable to that." Peter rhythmically squeezes and releases Stiles' ass in his hands. He seems to be enjoying Stiles' panting and low moans.

"You need to stop that or I'm going to be arrested for public indecency."

"But you look so good," Peter sucks on Stiles' neck. "Skin flushed prettily, moaning and writhing against me like you want me to fuck you here and now."

"God," Stiles moans and tips his head to side giving Peter more room.

"You like that, baby," Peter nibbles at Stiles' earlobe.

"That's not fair." Stiles pants and he pushes Peter away, but not far. He takes Peter's hand and they run, stumbling to his jeep.

Stiles shoves Peter at the passenger side, Peter gets in. His pupils are wide, mostly black, his cheeks pink and the front of his jeans are tented. Stiles doesn't bother going to the driver's side, he just climbs on top of Peter.

With a breathless laugh Peter pushes the seat back and lowers it. Stiles shuts the door then attacks Peter's mouth.

Peter pushes Stiles' jacket from his shoulders and with a frustrated groan Stiles sits up to remove. At the same time Peter pulls off his leather jacket, then the waistcoat. Stiles is impatient, he rocks his hips pressing their groins together. He's hunched over at the shoulders because of the low roof, Stiles undoes a couple of buttons on Peter's shirt.

He slides his fingers into the chest hair and tugs. Peter groans and flings his waistcoat across the car. It hits the window with a soft thump.

"Baby," Peter is breathless and Stiles feels a sense of pride, he's caused this. "Come here, Stiles, baby, let me kiss you."

"Hmmmm," Stiles hums, rolling his hips faster. "Let me think about it."

"God, you look so good like that, baby." Peter is running his hands all over Stiles. "You'd look even better naked and on my cock."

"Fuck yes." Stiles finally leans down and meets Peter's open mouth. They kiss filthy and deep and wet.

Stiles is so close to coming in his underwear when, like a bucket of cold water over him, a knock on the window and a flash of bright light plus the brusque "please step out of the car."

Peter flops his head back, gasping a laugh. "Jesus."

"It's alright." Stiles opens the door and slides out, Peter follows him leaning against the Jeep nonchalantly. "Hey Jordan, Tara."

The deputies give him a stern look. "Stiles, you know you can't do this." Tara says.

"Well, let's just call it a warning and go our separate ways then." Stiles spreads his hands easily and calmly.

"Stiles." Jordan says, disappointedly.

"Come on Jordan, we're all adults here." Stiles glances at Peter, the man is watching him intensely. "We got a bit carried away, for that we're very sorry. It's never happened before."

"I can assure you it won't happen again, deputies." Peter says silkily.

Tara looks at him with narrowed eyes. "Stiles, a word." She turns sharply and moves to stand a few feet away. Stiles follows her. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he see her looking suspiciously at Peter over his shoulder. "Tara, I promise I'm a very active and willing participant. He's not manipulating me in any way."

"You know who he is?"

"Yes, I do. I like him."

Tara stares at Stiles but he holds her gaze. "Alright." She claps him on the shoulder. "We'll let you go, but get out of here, okay?"

They move towards Peter and Jordan.

"All good, we can go." Stiles says to Peter, who nods once but he doesn't move until Jordan and Tara have left with brief goodbyes.

"That was impressive." Peter says to Stiles.

"Perks of being the Sheriff's son." Stiles starts the Jeep, they're on their own sides and Peter has out the passenger seat back into its proper position. "I've grown up at the station. Tara used to babysit me, I'd stay at hers a lot when mom was sick and Scott's mom was working."

"Scott's your best friend. You're brother from another mother," Peter's tone is dripping with sarcasm as he repeats Stiles' earlier statement. 

Stiles laughs "that's the one. Melissa, Scott's mom, is a nurse."

"An admirable profession."

Turning the jeep onto the road Stiles checks the clock on the dash. He puts a hand on Peter's thigh, sliding up the firm muscle. Peter places his on top. Stiles squeezes the thigh beneath his hand.

"If I take the long way we can be at yours around half ten." Stiles says.

"The long way?"

"Through town." Stiles sees Peter nod. "We can talk some more."

"Cops can't pull us over for that." Peter says with a deep chuckle. Stiles joins in the laughter.


By the time the get to the Hale house out in the middle of the Preserve Stiles is mostly hard and Peter can't be much better.

They'd kept the conversation going however, around the time Stiles pulled into the road in the Preserve he started talking about the things he wants to do to Peter and with him.

"I can't wait to suck you. Let you fuck my throat." Peter let's out a low groan. "You'd like that, wouldn't you Peter? You'd like to see me on my knees mouth stretched wide as you come down my throat. Or would you prefer to paint my face with your come? Of course you'd have to clean me up, with your tongue, Peter. You'd do that for me, wouldn't you?"

"Fuck yes, baby."  Peter sounds desperate. It spurs Stiles on.

"Not tonight though. I want to come on your cock tonight." Stiles squirms in seat feeling himself get harder as he talks and imagines. "I want you to finger me open so I can sit on your dick and ride you. Would you prefer hard and fast or slower?"

The moan Peter let's out is filthy and loud. He moves Stiles' hand and finger with his own until Stiles is palming and gripping Peter's cock through his jeans. Peter is shifting his hips forward in Stiles' grip.

Reluctantly Stiles pulls his hand away, ignoring Peter's whine of "baby", and uses both hands to turn the wheel and park the car haphazardly next to a black Camaro that he almost didn't see.

Quickly Peter and Stiles are unbuckled and meeting across the console in a clash of teeth and tongues. "Fuck," Stiles pants into Peter's mouth.

"Inside," Peter pushes Stiles back towards his door. "Come on, come on, let's get inside."

"Yeah," Stiles agrees before almost falling out after opening his door. They run up the porch steps and Stiles plasters himself to Peter's back as he unlock the door in the dark.

Sucking on the back of Peter's neck Stiles thrusts his hips forward, pressing the hard length of his cock against the firm muscles of Peter's ass. "I can't wait to get my hands on this ass of yours."

"Not tonight, baby," Peter says and lets out a triumphant noise as the door swings open. "I'm doing the fucking tonight."

"For the first round, absolutely." Stiles winks as he passed, the hall is lit by a single lamp. "Second round is my turn."

"Second round?" Peter asks in a whisper as he shuts the door.

"You think you can keep up, old man?"

Peter kisses Stiles fiercely. "I'll honestly be impressed if you can do much more than say my name after I'm done with you."

"Challenge accepted." Stiles steals a kiss of his own. Peter takes his hand and they tiptoe up three staircases. "Why are you in the attic?"

"They don't like me very much." Peter says so seriously Stiles can't tell if he's joking or not.

Finally they're upstairs and Peter opens a door, he flicks on the light and leads Stiles inside. Stiles shuts the door quietly behind him.

Peter crowds in his space, they share the same air for a few breaths then Stiles smiles softly, he brings his hand up to stroke Peter's stubble rough cheeks with the tips of his finger. He slides his hand around to thread through the hair on the back of Peter's head drawing him forward into a heated kiss.

Stiles uses one hand to tug uselessly at Peter's shirt. Peter laughs into his mouth before undoing the buttons and stripping out of if. Stiles pulls back to look at him.

His chest is hairy, nipples firm nubs in the wiry curls, Stiles drags his fingers down and flicks at one. Peter shifts his hips forward and sucks in a sharp gasp.

Encouraged Stiles bends to take a nipple into his mouth, he sucks and Peter groans, hands coming up to scrabble at Stiles' shirt.

Stiles undoes the buttons and lets it fall to the floor. Peter strokes a hand over the spattering of hair in the centre of Stiles' chest. He drags his fingers down to the button on Stiles' jeans.

"May I?" Peter asks lowly.

"Go ahead." Stiles leans back against the door and swallows, mouth dry as Peter focuses his attention on the button and zipper of Stiles' jeans. Peter slides his hands inside and looks up at Stiles, impressed. He pushes the jeans down and hungrily keeps his gaze where Stiles' cock is curving up towards his belly. 

Peter takes his hands away from Stiles' skin and undoes his own jeans. Stiles takes the time to kick off his shoes, take off his socks and jeans. When he's completely naked, so is Peter.

"Fuck, you're magnificent." Stiles says. He reaches a hand out to curls round Peter's erection, he's not as long as Stiles but he's thick. Stiles' mouth waters but he refrains from dropping to his knees. "We need to get this in me like ten minutes ago."

"Anything you want, baby." Peter pulls Stiles in for a kiss and turns, it's awkward but Stiles keeps his hand on Peter's cock, press up against his back. Peter stumbles as Stiles moves his hand, they make it to the bed and fall on it in a heap.

Stiles laughs. They untangle themselves and he moves up the bed so his head is on a pillow. Peter stands to pull the covers down and he opens the bedside drawer to set the lube on top. He kisses Stiles. "I'll be right back, condoms are in the bathroom."

"Hurry." Stiles tells him and with a lingering look Peter hurries off through a second door. Impatient, Stiles takes the lube, slicks his fingers and presses two up against his rim.

He takes a deep breath, Stiles knows he doesn't have to rush but he wants Peter to fuck him sooner rather than later. So he pushes both fingers inside, it burns and he's breathing heavily. The thought of Peter seeing him like this spurs him on and soon he's pumping his fingers in and out. The angle is making his wrist ache and he can't quite reach his prostate.

"Look at you," Peter's voice is full of delight. "So eager for my cock, baby, you didn't wait for me to open you."

Peter kneels on the bed and Stiles spreads his legs even more. Peter's hands run up his thighs and he watches Stiles fuck himself for a bit longer.

"Please, Peter," Stiles whines.

"What do you want, Stiles?" Peter asks, ghosting his lips up Stiles' thigh then biting at the crease of his hip. "I can't help you, unless you tell me, baby."

"You know what I want." Stiles grinds out.

Peter gives a chuckle and sits back up. He pulls a condom and rips the foil, after he slides it on Peter lifts the lube. "Do you need me to finger you more, or can you take it?"

"If you want to finger me, Peter, I ain't gunna say no." Stiles raises a challenging eyebrow.

With narrowed eyes Peter pours lube onto his hand, he slicks up his cock and tugs Stiles' fingers out the way. Peter traces his rim with a fingertip before pushing three fingers in. The pain makes Stiles clench down, he forces himself to relax and arch his hips trying to take more of Peter's fingers.

"Fuck, you're so eager." Peter's eyes are wide. "Beautiful, such a beautiful little cock slut for me, aren't you baby?"

"Yes," Stiles gasps out. "You're cock slut. Please, give it to me."

Peter moves up to kiss Stiles, he stills his fingers and fucks his mouth with his tongue. They're still kissing when Peter removes his fingers and replaces them with his cock. Stiles bites on Peter's lip, then sucks it in apology.

"Fuck. You feel fantastic." Peter says as he pushes in slowly.

"You- god! I'm so fucking full." Stiles grabs at Peter's shoulders, nails digging in. He's never felt so full from someone else's cock before. It feels so good.

"Alright?" Peter asks.

Stiles can only nod.

Peter settles himself on the bed, pulls Stiles' hips up onto his thighs. Stiles puts his legs around Peter's waist, his hands fall to his own chest, he tugs at his nipples until Peter starts to thrust and then Stiles drops his hands into the bed sheets and holds on.

Peter fucks like he does everything else, confidently and with a certain level of arrogance. It's heady for Stiles. He is overwhelmed, looking up at Peter, the man has his eyes on Stiles, hands firm on Stiles' hips and hearing the moans and grunts coming from him, the feel of Peter's sweat dripping onto his torso.

They fuck like this for a few minutes before Stiles puts his hands over Peter's. "I believe there was talk of me riding you."

"Ah, yes, for the first round." Peter pushes in so he's fully inside then slides his hands under Stiles' shoulder blades and helps him up. Stiles is now sitting on Peter's cock, legs wrapped around his waist still.

Their faces are closer and Stiles takes the opportunity to kiss Peter as he starts to move his hips. In this position he can touch more, his nails scratch down Peter's back, he tugs at the chest hairs that tickle his chest, Stiles twists and pinches and flicks at Peter's nipples. Each one makes him jolt and he fucks up deliciously into Stiles.

Stiles latches his mouth onto the skin where Peter's shoulder and neck meet. He bites and sucks a dark bruise. One of Peter's hands comes up from where he'd been holding Stiles' ass cheeks apart to grip his hair and tug his head back. Stiles keens, loudly.

"My turn, baby." Peter sets his teeth high up on Stiles' neck. He bites and sucks and nibbles and uses his tongue to mark him. Stiles' hips move erratically.

"Fuck, Peter, I'm so close."

Peter starts to thrust up harder into Stiles and he takes Stiles' cock in hand giving it a few firm strokes, soon enough Stiles is coming with a silent cry. His mouth open and he pants, body slumping against Peter, who is still hard inside him. Stiles slowly lifts off Peter's cock, he smooths the frown away with a kiss and stroke of his fingers over Peter's brow.

Stiles is moving onto his back, head on the pillow again and he spreads his legs wide, feet planted on the mattress. "All yours."

"You-" Peter stares, he seems unsure. Stiles pushes three of his fingers back into his hole, he's close to being over-sensitive but it'll be worth it. "Fuck." Peter exclaims.

He's moving between Stiles' thighs again and Stiles moves his hand. Peter slides back inside with a groan. "Oh baby, Stiles, fuck, darling."

Stiles tilts his hips and encourages Peter to fuck into him hard. He looks up into Peter's face, clenches around his dick and runs his hands up and down Peter's back. He dips his lube sticky fingers into Peter's cleft and presses against his hole.

With a loud shout Peter comes, his body convulses on top of Stiles before he falls down. They lie there, Peter a heavy and solid weight on Stiles. He finds it more comforting than constricting.

Soon enough Peter pulls out, he takes off the condom and ties it. He holds it in his hand and looks longingly at the bathroom door. Stiles laughs and takes it off him, he stands and walks with a limp.

Peter's smirking when he exits the bathroom with a warm cloth in his hand. He's also turned on the bedside light, so Stiles flicks the overhead one off on his way back to the bed. He sits next to Peter and wipes his cock and balls clean of lube and come.

"You too tired for round two, old man?" Stiles teases.

"You're not up for it." Peter strokes a finger down Stiles' soft cock.

"I will be soon if you keep doing that." He flops down on the bed next to Peter, putting his head on Peter's chest, rubbing his cheek against the damp curls. Peter flicks off the light.

"You like my chest hair, don't you?"

Stiles feels himself flush. "Yeah," he turns his head to press his lips against Peter's nipple, then he uses his tongue to flatten the hair around it.

"It's alright, Stiles. No kink shaming from me." Peter says.

"What are some of your kinks then?" Stiles asks, "if you don't think my chest hair one is weird."

"Hmm," Peter strokes his fingers through Stiles' hair as he thinks. "I have an exhibitionist streak, I like my men in silk panties."
"But not yourself?"

"No, I just like seeing my partners in them." Peter says sleepily. "What about you?"

"Other than the chest hair, you mean?" Stiles smiles against Peter's skin. "Exhibition too, cock warming, a little bit of a cock slut but only with my partner, not anyone else's."

Peter's hand stills. "Good to know." He presses a kiss to the top of Stiles' head. "Get some sleep, Stiles. We can have round two in the morning."

Soon enough Stiles falls asleep.

It's still dark when he wakes up, at first Stiles isn't sure what woke him then he feels Peter's mouth on his cock, sucking him and tongue pressing against the head. His mouth pulls off with an obscenely loud pop in the quiet room.

"Finally. You were taking forever to wake up." Peter smirks, then kisses Stiles. "I thought I was going to have round two by myself."

"I- what?" Stiles is only half awake.

Peter lies down next to him, looking at him but Stiles can't see his face clearly in the dark. "Peter? It's still dark out, this is not morning sex."

"Well, darling, it's midnight." Peter says carefully.


"I thought we could do something a little different than what you'd usually do."

"I'd like that, Peter." Stiles rolls so he's lying on top of Peter, the other man is already hard and Stiles isn't far away. "What do you want to do?"

"What usually happens at midnight?"

"My dad and I open one present each." Stiles feels sad and Peter must sense it somehow because he noses around Stiles' cheek until he can slot their mouths together. Peter tastes like latex.

"Want to fuck?" Peter asks. "Want to call me daddy?"

"No. At least not now." Stiles says into Peter's cheek. "I want you to blow me."

Peter pushes Stiles off and he slides back down under the covers, getting his mouth on Stiles again. It's a great blow job, Stiles can thrust into Peter's mouth and not worry about choking him because Peter just swallows around him.

Stiles puts his hands in Peter's hair and holds on as he moves his hips, fucking into the warm heat of Peter's mouth. Soon enough he's coming into the condom Peter must've rolled on him in his sleep. Stiles slumps against the mattress. Peter takes the condom off him.

Emerging from the covers, Stiles can see Peter's grin. "Merry Christmas, darling."

"You want me to..." Stiles flaps a hand and trails off. Peter shakes his head. He tosses the tied condom onto the floor.

"I've got it." He tights his fist around his cock and brings himself off quickly, spilling over Stiles' softening cock and balls. Stiles jumps and let's out a low moan.

"Fuck that's hot, Peter."

Peter kiss him.

"Merry Christmas Peter." Stiles whispers against his lips. Peter wipes him clean, mostly clean, with the bed sheet. Then they curl up together and fall back asleep.


A knock on the door wakes them up. "Uncle Peter?"

"Oh god." Peter groans putting his head under the pillow. Stiles laughs next to him.

The knocking gets louder. "Uncle Peter!"
"Go away Laura," Peter shouts back.

"The Sheriff wants to know why his son's jeep is in the driveway but he's not in the guest room."

"Fuck." Stiles says emphatically.

"Stiles?" Laura asks. There's a moment of quiet when Stiles and Peter look at each other then, "oh my god!" Her footsteps thunder away.

"Well there goes our morning sex," Peter says dryly.

"Think we have time to shower before everything implodes?"

"We can either be late or miss it altogether." Peter says and he stretches with a yawn. He gets up and Stiles stays in bed a bit longer, he can hear the toilet flush and the water of the shower turn on. "Come on, while the water's hot."

Stiles gets up and joins Peter in the shower. There's only mild kissing and slightly wandering hands. They dry off and Stiles asks Peter for a pair of underwear, and a shirt.

"Why? You were fine last night." Peter smirks as he pulls on his own clothes. A tight v-neck cardigan that shows off his chest hair. Stiles hates him a little bit for wearing that, the smirk on Peter's face suggests that he knows what Stiles is thinking. 

"I'm not talking to my dad and your family while I'm going commando." Stiles taps his foot. He's still completely naked while Peter is dressed.

Peter eyes him, then says "I have two options for you. One-" he opens the drawer he got his underwear from and holds up a black pair. "Or, two-" and he dives into his suitcase and pulls out a pale pink pair of lacy panties.

Stiles swallows.

No pressure, Stiles." Peter says. "Tell you what, take them both into the bathroom and get dressed, I'll find a you a top."

Stiles takes them both. In the bathroom Stiles holds the panties and rubs them against his cheek. They're so soft and Stiles, with his heart beating fast, steps into them.

He looks at himself in the mirror. His cheeks are red and the pink looks soft and feminine against his pale skin. There is a little bow in the middle above the smooth panel where his dick sits. The sides and back are lace flowers.

Stiles opens the bathroom door. Peter turns his from where he's rummaging in his drawers and suitcase.

"I've found one that shoul-" he stops and stares at Stiles. His throat works as he swallows. "Oh." Peter says a little breathlessly.

"You like?"

"Stiles, you look wonderful." Peter eventually gets the words out, he keeps stopping and licking his lips.

With careful steps Stiles walks towards him. Peter's hand cups his cheek. He draws Stiles into a kiss that's all lips and tongue. Peter sucks Stiles lowe lip into his mouth, runs his tongue over it and repeats the motions with his upper lip. Stiles feels so delicate, Peter is barely touching him or kissing him as if he isn't allowed.

Peter pulls away with a lingering suck to Stiles' bottom lip. His cheeks are pink and his eyes rove over Stiles' face then drop to the where the panties are snug around his half-hard cock.

"Baby," Peter whispers.

"Peter." Stiles breathes.

Another knock sounds this one is hard and rapid. "Peter. Downstairs now." It's a woman's voice, harsh and firm. It's Talia.

Stiles presses his lips to Peter's watching as the man closes his eyes slowly. Stiles walks away and hurries to the bathroom and puts on his jeans. He goes back to the bedroom and Peter is still standing in the same place eyes on Stiles.

Carefully Stiles takes the top and slides it on. Peter brushes a thumb over his collarbone. "Do you want to stay here?"

"Hide away like I'm ashamed." Stiles say in disbelief.

"If you want to." Peter repeats softly, "only if you want to."

Stiles takes his hand. "I don't want to. I was serious when I said I'd like to keep exploring this with you when we're back in New York."

"As was I, darling." Peter gives Stiles a half smile, more an upwards curling of his lips than anything before he leads Stiles out the door and back down the three flights of stairs to the kitchen.

Talia Hale is as intimidating in her fluffy pink dressing gown as she is in the power suits she wears around town. Stiles gulps when he sees her. His dad is standing just behind her in a white t-shirt and plaid sleep pants.

Laura is dressed, standing at the far side of the kitchen sipping at her coffee her. Derek and Cora aren't anywhere to be seen.

"Stiles." His dad says sharply.

"Hey dad."

Dad sighs and runs a hand over his face. "Did you really have to do this?" He nods at where Stiles is clinging to Peter's hand.

"What exactly do you think this is, Sheriff?" Peter asks calmly.

"Peter, he's a teenager for God's sake." Talia hisses.

Stiles watches as his dad puts a hand on Talia's shoulder. He faces Stiles, "is this because you're mad at me? Is this some -" he can't finish his sentence.

"Some what dad?" Stiles is practically daring him to say it.

"Some sort of revenge fuck." Laura chips on, almost cheerfully from behind her coffee mug.

Stiles raises his eyebrows. "You think this is about you?"

Dad nods, "I think this is about me and my relationship with Talia."

"Your dad told me you didn't respond well when he told you." Talia adds, giving his dad a besotted look.

Not quite able to believe what he's hearing Stiles looks to Peter but he appears to be just as stunned. He shrugs in Peter's direction a little helplessly.

"I met Stiles on my morning run yesterday. I asked him out for dinner."

"You went on a date?" Laura sounds surprised. "With the Sheriff's kid."

"I went on a date with a young man I am attracted to. Who his father is was no concern of mine at that point." Peter answers calmly.

"This is ridiculous, Stiles!" Dad is getting angry. "If you wanted my attention you've damned well got it, you didn't need this ... This charade."

"Excuse me." Peter starts but dad hasn't finished.

"Were you drunk?" Stiles splutters and his waves a hand at the window, Stiles can see just how badly he parked the Jeep.

"I'm nineteen." Stiles answers. "I'm not allowed to drink for another two years."

"That didn't stop you when you were sixteen." Dad says he steps around Talia. "You're no stranger to underage drinking and you're in college, I know what happens in colleges."

"I don't drink." Stiles says firmly.

From her place across the kitchen Laura snorts in disbelief. Dad narrows his eyes. "I find that hard to believe."

"I broke into your liquor cabinet once, three fucking years ago. I've never had another drink of alcohol since!" Stiles occasionally has sips, like he did of Peter's wine last night, but he never drinks a full glass of anything. "Thanks to you I have a fifty percent chance of being an alcoholic so I'd rather not risk it, if it's all the same to you." Stiles practically snarls.

His dad rears back as if he's been hit. Peter gently tugs at Stiles' shoulder and Talia turns toward his dad. "Stiles, come on," Peter pulls at him. "Darling, let's take a break from this."

"Yeah." Stiles stares his dad down defiantly. His chin tips up and the room blurs with the tears in his eyes. "I'm going. Merry fucking Christmas dad."

He turns and walks away, Stiles brushes Peter's grip off his shoulder as he leaves the kitchen. Derek is hovering in the hallway in running gear, he scrambles to the side when Stiles leaves. Peter is hot on his heels but Talia calls his name.

As Stiles runs upstairs he hears Peter answer her but the words don't filter through the anger and hurt. Stiles shoves his feet into his socks and shoes, he picks up his short from last night, his phone and his keys. Stiles thunders back downstairs, instead of heading for the kitchen he goes to the front door.

Stiles is in his keep, engine on when Peter comes running out. He's calling Stiles' name, a pained look on his face. Peter flings himself into the passenger seat and Stiles drives away before he's got his seat belt on.

As he drives Stiles keeps looking in the rear view mirror at the porch but the person he wants to see there never shows. His dad doesn't come after him.

It should be more surprising than it is. It stills hurts though.

Peter is quiet, he doesn't say a word. Not even when Stiles pulls over after the bend and tries to stave off a panic attack. "You must think I'm being very childish." Stiles says quietly after counting his ten fingers.

"Not at all." Peter keeps his voice soft. "You're allowed to be hurt."

"I bet none of Talia's kids acted like this."

"Well, no." Peter admits. "But Talia's kids have each other, they're three of them and they have an uncle. Their dad didn't die, he left. And they didn't find out about the relationship eight months after it started, or on Christmas Eve. That's enough to test anyone, Stiles."

Turning to look at Peter, Stiles is amazed at how accepting and rational he's being. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"Mind telling my sister that? She doesn't think very highly of me right now."

"Because of me."

Peter sighs. "In part, yes but mostly because of me. I don't come often and she wanted this Christmas to be perfect, a real family Christmas with her new partner. It's the first family Christmas we've had since the kids were little."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Peter gives him a wry smile. "What's a family Christmas without a little drama?" 

Stiles lets out a wet sounding bark of laughter. Peter reaches up to wipe the tears from his cheeks. "Want me to drive?"

"You're not wearing shoes." Stiles points out.

"I had to come after you."

"I'm glad someone did." Stiles says bitterly.

"I always will, darling." Peter leans forward to kiss Stiles gently on his cheek. "Shall we get out of here?"

Nodding Stiles wipes his cheeks, "yeah. I'm okay to drive."

"If you're sure."

"I am." Stiles reaches out to squeeze Peter's knee in appreciation for his kindness. He starts the car and drives to his place, it doesn't take too long and soon enough Stiles is leading Peter through his front door. He watches as Peter looks around, he has a cute little crease between his eyes and when Peter turns back to look at him with a lost expression it clicks.

There's nothing in here to suggest it's Christmas. No tree, decorations, no Santa figurines. Not a thing. Stiles rubs the back of his neck and kicks the front door shut with his heel. "We don't really celebrate Christmas. Not since mom died."

"Ah." Realisation dawns on Peter, "that's why midnight was so important."

"Yeah." Stiles moves to stand in front of Peter and hug him. "It's the only time we give gifts and nothing special either, just token things. Birthdays though, birthdays are big deal in the Stilinski household." Peter's arms tighten around him. Stiles is content to stay in his arms forever.

"What do you want to do today, Stiles?" Peter asks.

Stiles tilts his face up and catches Peter's lips in a kiss. "I'm not sure."

"How about we get some breakfast then watch a movie?"

"Sounds perfect, Peter." Stiles smiles brightly at Peter.

Peter gives him a soft one back, then pecks his nose. "First things, first, though. Can I borrow some socks? My feet are freezing."

With a loud laugh Stiles agrees, he heads upstairs to fish a pair of socks out his bag when he gets back down Peter is already in the kitchen, he has eggs and milk on the side. "Toaster?"

"Oh sure, here." Stiles gets it out of his cupboard, he plugs it in and gets the bread. It fits four slices in so he lets Peter have control of when to pop it down. "Coffee?"

"Mmm, please, darling."

It's domestic and comfortable as they work around each other. Peter keeps reaching out to touch Stiles, he runs a hand down his back or his fingers brush Stiles' neck. Stiles loves it, it scares him a little how much he wants this, wants to be around Peter all the time. Peter starts to dish up the scrambled egg on toast so Stiles pours the coffee into mugs, "sugar or milk?"

"Both." Peter replies.

The eat at the kitchen table, sitting closer than necessary and sharing glances, trading smiles. Stiles is shocked when a throat clears from the doorway behind him, he jumps and knocks his half-full coffee cup. Peter stills it but not before coffee spills on the table. Stiles sees Peter's shoulders tense as he looks at the person standing there, he just knows it's his dad. He doesn't want to turn around but that's childish, so he does the adult thing and looks.

His dad and Talia are standing there. They're both dressed. "Stiles, may I have a word?" Talia asks and she tilts her head towards the living room. Stiles chances a glance at Peter who looks just as surprised as he feels.

"Sure." Stiles stands, he presses his lips to Peter's in a short kiss, feeling Peter smile beneath his mouth. "I won't be long."

"Take all the time you need, darling." Peter replies.

Stiles follows Talia into the living room, ignoring his dad. He sees Peter start to clear the table before the kitchen door shuts and he's left alone with the Mayor.

"Stiles, I'm afraid we haven't done this very well at all." Talia starts, Stiles stays quiet. He's not a cop's kid for nothing, he knows the power of silence. "John should have told you a lot earlier, as soon as we started seeing each other. I should have let him tell you how he wanted, instead of insisting it be in person." She waits and sighs, "I know you don't like me Stiles but I'm not trying to replace your mom."

"And you won't." Stiles just feels tired. "I don't dislike you Talia, I just don't know you. My dad has a place in your home, you have a place in his life and I've been kept in the dark, surely you can understand why I'm upset."

"Absolutely, honey," she steps close enough to put her hand on his shoulder. "But that doesn't mean you need to do.... what you're doing with Peter."

"What." Stiles is not impressed. "You still think I don't like my dad's girlfriend so I'm fucking her brother to get back at him. What is your issue with Peter? He's your brother."

"Yes." Talia breathes out heavily through her nose. "It means I know exactly what he's capable of. He's a dangerous man."

"All men are capable of dangerous things. I'm not naive, and I'm not an idiot. I like Peter, he's funny and he's sarcastic and smart." Stiles feels his voice rising and forces himself to calm down. "I don't even know why I'm talking to you and not my dad. This has fuck all to do with you, to be honest."

Talia gazes at him steadily. "It is an uncomfortable situation-"

"Bullshit. My dad's too chicken shit to talk to me himself, so he sent you." Stiles cocks an eyebrow, "have you noticed that yet? He avoids the difficult conversations. Have you said 'I love you' yet? Did he disappear for a few days?"

"That is enough, young man!" Talia puts the full weight of her power in her tone. It's enough to make anyone stop and listen.

But not Stiles.

"You think? I don't have to listen to you, and I won't because you're not my mom, you're just my dad's girlfriend."

"And you're just my little brother's fucktoy," she hisses and Stiles knows he's pushed her buttons enough to make her angry.

"Yep," Stiles says obnoxiously. "I'm not complaining though. He fucks so good."

For a second Stiles thinks Talia is going to hit him, she doesn't but she does step away. "I can see why your dad avoids difficult conversations with you when you act like this."

Scoffing a little Stiles doesn't give her the satisfaction of engaging he just goes back into the kitchen. Peter is standing at the sink washing up the breakfast things. Dad is standing behind him arms crossed over his chest, his interrogation face on.

Stiles slides up to Peter, "you didn't have to do that," he says softly.

"I don't mind."

"You cooked, you shouldn't have to clean up as well."

Peter smirks "I guess you can owe me one, darling."

"Stiles." That's dad. Stiles looks at him, dad glances between Stiles and the open doorway where Talia hasn't appear. "What did you do?"

"You mean when you sent your girlfriend to do your talking for you?"

Dad sighs, frustration evident.

"This is between you and me dad, not me and Talia or you and Peter. You should have told me you were seeing someone. Not eight months into it, not on Christmas Eve which is fucking shitty day anyway. How did you expect me to feel?"

"I didn't expect you to go and sleep with Talia's brother." Dad glares at Peter.

Stiles throws his hands up. "It's not about him! I had sex with Peter because I am attracted to him and I like him and that's the same reasons why you're with Talia right?" Stiles raises his eyebrows. "You can't hold one thing against me and do the same damned thing yourself!"

Stiles takes a deep breath to calm himself. "Dad, if you're happy that's great. I have no problem with you seeing someone, I was fine when you were dating Natalie a couple of years ago. You can have another woman in your life, you can't hold on to mom forever. She's gone, and you've loved her long enough, you can love someone else now. It's okay."

Dad looks at him with red rimmed eyes. Stiles goes to him, they hug tight and hard. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," dad rasps in Stiles' ear.

"Just don't do it again."

They pull away and dad wipes his eyes on his sleeve, Stiles turns to see Peter drying his hands on the tea towel and slipping out the kitchen door. Their eyes meet and Peter nods to where Talia must be, rolls his eyes and smiles.

Then he's gone, into the living room to talk to his sister.

Stiles steps back. Dad looks at him "you really like him?"

"Yeah. More than anyone."

"More than Lydia Martin?" When Stiles nods dad lets out a low whistle, "high praise indeed."

"You don't really think it's a revenge thing do you?" Stiles asks, voice small sounding to his own ear.

Dad flinches. "Knowing you? No, I don't really think that. But did it have to be him, he's old Stiles."

"He's only thirty seven."

"And you're nineteen." Dad rubs his forehead. "I'm not telling you not to continue but you have to be very clear with what you want. You're just starting college, he has an established career. You're in different places in your lives."

"Yeah. We've talked, we want to see where this goes. We both live in Manhattan so it should be easy to try."

"If you're sure. I don't want to have to pick up the pieces if you get your heartbroken."

"Well, if I do that's my choice and you'll have every right to say I told you so." Stiles shrugs, "but what's the difference between you and me? If you get your heart broken."

"I'm an adult, I can cope with it."

"Like you did last time?" Stiles bites his lip. "I'm not saying that to be cruel, but you didn't cope last time you got your heart broken."

"Oh kiddo, when your mom died my heart wasn't broken it was crushed. My world ended. She was my soulmate, your mom was a special woman and I'll always love her. But Talia is a wonderful woman, if you could get to know her, you'll love her too."

"Maybe. I'm not promising anything but you have to try with Peter as well."

"Fine." Dad heaves a fake sigh then he gets a cheeky grin. "Anything else you want to tell me?"

"Uh, no," Stiles says slowly because that means he should have something to say but he doesn't know what.

"So Tara and Jordan didn't catch you and Peter in a compromising position in your car in a public car park last night?"

"Oh my god." Stiles hides his face in his hands. Dad laughs.

"What's this?" Talia's voice sounds light and Stiles peers at her through his fingers, she looks less uptight. Peter is behind her his hands on her shoulders, he's smiling though.

"Stiles and Peter got caught by two of the deputies, being indecent."

Talia lets out a shocked noise and Peter a deep chuckle as Stiles groans long and loud. "Can you blame me?" Peter asks, "he's delicious."

"Peter!" Talia sounds scandalized and Stiles starts to laugh because it's dad's turn to groan.

Stiles take his hands away from his face and sees the delight on Peter's. Peter moves from behind his sister to Stiles' side wrapping an arm around his shoulders and tugging Stiles into his chest. Stiles goes easily, hugging Peter around the waist.

"Why don't you join us for dinner?" Talia suggests, she actually has a smile on her face. Stiles doesn't know what Peter said but it had an impact. "I know you don't like to celebrate Christmas but after one it's no longer Christmas in the Hale house, it's Derek's birthday."

Stiles looks at Peter who is smiling gently at him already. Peter nods once, "alright." Stiles says, "we'll come for one."

"Thank you," Talia says. Dad moves to wrap an arm around her. They say their goodbyes and leave. Stiles feels a lot happier about everything.

"What movie do you want to watch?" Peter asks.

"Actually," Stiles steps away, he pops the button of his jeans and tugs down the zip. "I was thinking-" he pushes his jeans to the floor and steps out, twisting the hem of Peter's top upwards in his hands. It shows off the pink panties. "That maybe you could fuck me with these on. And after-"

Stiles doesn't get to say anything else because Peter is kissing him.

"I'm taking this as a yes," Stiles says while Peter kisses down his neck.

"It is an enthusiastic yes, baby," Peter replies and he palms Stiles' ass, fingering the lace briefly then sliding his hands down to Stiles' thighs. Peter picks him up and encourages Stiles to wrap his legs around Peter's waist.

Stiles holds on to Peter's shoulders, tipping his head back giving Peter better access to his neck. He ruts his hard cock into Peter's stomach and moans wantonly.

"You said something about after?" Peter mutters as he starts walking them toward the stairs.

"After?" Stiles clings tighter as Peter moves. "Right, after when you're sex stupid from fucking me, lying pliant and soft I'll take my time and stretch you open then, when you're begging me I'll slide in and fuck you nice and slow."

"Yes" Peter hisses and bites down on Stiles' collarbone. "Did you bring condoms?"

"I did, snuck them from your place."

"Good boy, baby." Peter praises. "Hold on, darling."

As if Stiles is going to let him go.