Peter knows himself. His vices and virtues (the few he has, anyway). He embraces being a predator. Enjoys stalking and hunting.
He’s a master manipulator and few things bring him as much pleasure as seeing his plans come together.
He’s watching his prey.
This moment has been years in the making.
Getting here had taken all his skill. The challenge of a lifetime. It would be the zenith of his genius!
Subtly pushing Stiles into going to college in New York (going so far as to ensure a full-ride scholarship).
Stalking his nephew and finding his favourite bakery. Artfully arranging for a job opening that coincidentally falls into Stiles’ lap.
All leading to this moment.
He watches with vicious glee as Stiles drops a tray of muffins. At his nephew’s frankly ridiculous smile.
Has a moment of worry that his socially inept nephew will fuck this up but… no, he goes for a hug and kisses Stiles. Right there.
He sighs in relief. Peter trusts Stiles to take care of the rest.
The boy’s tenacity is legendary.
He would know, since he made sure of that. Just like he’ll make sure that everyone knows about this.
One of Peter’s many vices is vanity. While no one will know about his hand in this, everyone will talk about his accomplishment nonetheless.
He’s always liked Stiles and Derek is family. Amongst his vanishingly small number of virtues is a vicious dedication to those he claims.
Hours later, Peter is in a supernatural bar. Waits until he hears someone talking about how Stiles Stilinski – you know the badass human in the Beacon Hills pack? – is going to college in New York.
He saunters up to their table, “Good evening. Forgive my interruption, but I couldn’t help but overhear you talking about Stiles Stilinski. Did you know that Derek Hale is also living here?”
One of the women rolls her eyes, “Obviously. A wolf that famous and notorious? Please. Especially after he took out that alpha?”
A man speaks up, “And now Stiles is here? I’ve been on team sterek for years. The city is big and they might never run into each other but can you imagine?” he sighs dreamily.
“Ah, I don’t need to imagine. I was there today when they ran into each other,” Peter breezily says.
Everyone gasps and leans forward.
“Oh my, god. You have to tell us everything,” the man begs.
“It would be my genuine pleasure,” Peter says and launches into the tale.
His chosen audience is perfect. They react appropriately at the right places. He’s pretty sure he sees one of them literally swoon as he describes the kiss.
Peter doesn’t fail to notice the way a substantial portion of the bar has gone quiet. Even the music is turned off. A lot of them have enhanced hearing and no one wants to miss a detail.
He basks in the attention.
He is, after all, amazing.
It’s so rewarding seeing one of his plans come together.
He leaves the bar with a jaunty air and a great deal of smug satisfaction.
About a week after seeing each other again, he and Derek are on a date. It’s not fancy, since that isn’t their style.
It’s cozy and surprisingly romantic – something that essentially describes Derek, hilariously enough.
Cozy and surprisingly romantic.
Stiles knows he’s making heart eyes and can’t even stop himself. Doesn’t even want to stop himself.
Being with Derek is everything he never let himself imagine.
Their little love bubble is burst when some guys at the next table giggle and whisper.
“It’s totally them. Oh my, god, I can’t believe the story was true. They finally got together!” one of them says.
“Shut up, Ian! We both know that you always shipped steter, not sterek. Don’t even,” another whispers back.
Derek’s eyebrows are drawing together in a frown because, what the fuck?
It sounds like they’re talking about them. But what the fuck is ‘steter’ or ‘sterek’?
“Okay, shut up. I’m going to do it,” a third whispers.
And, yup, here’s a monster truck of a man walking up to their table. He’s very obviously a werewolf. Might be as big as Ennis – just with a lot more hair.
“Um, sorry for interrupting your dinner,” the guy is blushing and looking really nervous, “but you guys are Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski, right?”
They both tense up.
“It’s just… we heard the other day that you guys finally got together and, well, I’ve been a sterek shipper since the beginning and, um, I was wondering if I could take a picture? I totally get if you don’t want to, I’m just so happy to see you two together,” there’s honest to god tears shining in the dude’s eyes.
All Stiles can get out is, “Sterek?”
“Oh, it’s your ship name. You know? Stiles and Derek? Sterek,” he beams at them.
Stiles’ mind is blown. Derek – who can normally pull of stoic like no one’s business – is literally gaping.
Stiles thinks he nods because the guy takes a quick picture and leaves, blushing and effusively thanking them. Returning to his table of other beefcake werewolves. None of whom look like they should be squealing over Derek and Stiles like school girls.
“Did that just happen?” Stiles asks.
Derek grimly nods.
In a corner of the restaurant, Peter smiles to himself. He does enjoy taking advantage of the fact that most supernaturals gossip like they need it to live.
He also shakes his head.
He doesn’t know why neither Derek nor Stiles think he’ll keep tabs on his beloved nephew and favourite human. He also can’t believe that they never notice him.
Sure, he’s sneaky and great at stealth.
But seriously? Seriously?
He’d be disappointed if it weren’t such a testament to his skill.
He’ll leave them be, for a while.
Peter does have other projects that require his attention, after all.