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The Sheriff likes Talia. He trusts her, and Peter suspects that’s why Stiles is allowed to come over as often as he is.
Peter is always beyond content when he’s there. They’re all out on the front porch, playing around in the leaves, and Stiles is getting buried by Laura under autumn leaves and every time his head is almost covered, Cora- who’s currently a wolf- drags him out and Derek tickles Stiles until he starts crying with joy.
Talia comes outside every half an hour with food. Were-wolf children need more food than normal, but Stiles eats enough for a small army. And every so often Stiles waddles up to Peter, five years old and absolutely tiny, and says ‘Peter!’ And bops his palm against his nose.
That evening, Derek, Laura, Cora and Stiles have formed a puppy pile in front of the fire, and Peter watches; content. When Talia clears her throat
‘I’ve been meaning to say, Peter,’ she says, and Peter watches her curiously ‘I’ve been trying to contact an old friend of mine, a witch-‘ Peter hisses and Talia continues quickly ‘he’s been a part of a pack his entire life- he knows everything about wolf and human soul mates. I want to invite him to talk to you and Stiles’ parents, see how to deal with everything. Stop you guys from getting hurt.’
Peter looks at his sister and nods ‘that’s a good idea.’
…
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…
His name is Ben Trie, and he crackles with magic, putting Peter on edge. He sits on the arm chair, Peter, the Sheriff and Claudia on the sofa while Stiles crawls around on the floor, mesmerized by the fluff of the carpet
‘I’ve seen age differences larger than this.’ He soothed, watching Stiles carefully. Knowledge shining in his eyes. ‘It’s good that the two of you have already made contact. Is there anything in particular you’d like to know?’
Claudia nods, and hoists Stiles up and lifts up his left shoulder, revealing three smooth almost silver barely marks, Peter gasps.
Ben nods ‘marks inflicted by the soul mate on either party are always permanent.’ He examines Stiles’ arm ‘you lost control?’ He asks Peter, who grits his teeth
‘He went into his headspace. And he was being taken from me-‘
‘Ah yes, parents,’ he turned to John and Claudia, ‘when Stiles finds his headspace with Peter- which he will do very quickly and easily at this age with his scent- you mustn’t take Stiles away from him. Separation will cause great mental strain. Now,’ he wrings his hands together ‘in my pack, we have numerous soul mates, but one in particular comes to mind. When the younger one came to find at a very young age that the older one was their soul mate…she didn’t react well. She lashed out, felt constricted and committed, it caused great problems, because mates- soul mates especially- and werewolves especially become incredibly possessive. And so I suggest…not telling Stiles you’re soul mates until later. Maybe when he’s 15? That’s up to you, but allowing him to have other relationships will be healthy.’
Peter drove his nails into his knees ‘let him date other people?’ He growled, and Ben shot him a smile
‘Yes.’ He seemed to delight in Peter's uncomfortable squirming, but he was distracted by another delighted giggle Stiles let out. The witch watched the little boy curiously, as though he were searching for something- Peter didn't know too much about witches though, maybe he could see something that the others couldn't. That bothered Peter. A lot. He didn't want anyone to know anything about Stiles without him knowing first.
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…
‘You get a little more creepy every day,’ Stiles teased, fifteen years old and sinfully tempting. It had become harder and harder for Peter to remember that he was underage. Stiles was long and pale and utterly gorgeous. ‘Aren’t you going to wish me happy birthday?’
Peter, who had been sat on Stiles’ desk chair in the dark, watching him sleep. Peter smiled softly ‘happy birthday, Stiles,’ he whispered. Stiles yawned and stretched
‘everything with the pack alright?’
Peter nodded.
The day passed nicely, Stiles having a party with Derek, Laura, Cora, Talia, Lydia, Allison and Scott, with cake and dancing and music, and at the end of the night, the Sheriff shot Peter a meaningful look, and Peter and Stiles went upstairs.
‘Stiles,’ Peter said as they entered his room ‘I need to tell you something.’
Stiles plonked onto his bed happily, looking up at Peter ‘yeah?’
Peter took a breath. This was a good thing. Stiles was going to know. No more of Peter crawling around and hiding in bushes watching Stiles with boys who were never going to be good enough for him. ‘I’m your soul mate, Stiles.’
Silence.
Peter risked a look down and Stiles was just staring at him. Amber eyes wide, mouth actually open as he stared. ‘My soul mate.’ He whispered, looking down at his hands as though in disbelief
Peter got to his knees, taking Stiles’ hands in his own ‘this can’t come as a surprise, Stiles,’ he whispered ‘I’m a grown man who sneaks into your room every night. I leave dead animals on your door step and scent you all the time. My claws marked your skin for life. You…’ he gave a choked laugh ‘you straddle me and rest your head on my shoulder to sleep better, Stiles…’
‘You’ve known for how long?’
‘Ten years. Ten years I’ve waited for you-‘
Stiles rose; shaking. ‘Please leave.’ He whispered ‘Please leave, please-‘
‘Stiles-‘ Peter’s voice must have broken, because Stiles jerked towards him.
‘Don’t be sad.’ Stiles whispered desperately, and Peter stared at him ‘I’m just…I’m, god I’m…embarrassed, Peter! I’m meant to be the pack researcher, I’m meant to be smart! You’ve been right here the whole time and I’ve just been- ugh please.’ He fell onto his bed, covering his face with his hands ‘Please leave. I’ll text you. This isn’t a rejection.’
Peter smiled down at his boy, before leaving through the window.
…
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…
It was a week before he got a text.
And when he went into Stiles’ room he froze.
Stiles was sitting on his bed, breath held. He was wearing silk underwear, and one of Peter’s shirts. His hair was still damp from his shower, and he was biting his bottom lip. Peter had seen him in less, but he was wearing Peter’s shirt. There was a flush against his cheeks that had never been there before. Peter shut the window gently.
‘Is this okay?’ Stiles whispered, and Peter could only nod. He sat down on the bed, and Stiles swallowed audibly ‘Can I…’ He placed his hands on Peter’s cheeks, and turned him to face him. Peter watched in amazement. ‘Can I…’ he dipped his head, flush falling down his neck and onto his chest through the v-neck ‘I won’t be very good.’ He laughed a little, voice high-pitched and nervous. ‘But I’d like to- you’re…’ Stiles closed his eyes ‘you’re thirty-seven years old and…’ he opened his eyes and looked up at Peter ‘you’ve always been the most attractive person I knew. The…the smartest, and the cleverest, and the most sarcastic. The only one always there for me. And I should have seen it sooner because…even if you weren’t I’d…you’re just perfect, okay?’
Peter couldn’t breathe.
It was all he wanted. All he had ever wanted right there in front of them. Of Stiles with burning amber love and hope in his eyes. His soul mate, asking for a kiss. Asking for a life together.
Peter kissed him. The softest, sweetest and best kiss he’d ever had. And Stiles moaned helplessly, molding against him perfectly, hands fisting his Peter’s hair. Inexperienced and graceless, but the most gorgeous thing in the world. Peter leaned back, and Stiles followed, he ground his hips naturally and both of them paused at the feel of Stiles’ hard on.
Stiles leapt away from him, skirting on the corner of the mattress, blushing hotly. ‘Sorry.’ He stammered, and Peter reached for him again
‘Stop being so embarrassed, darlin’. Do you know how many times I’ve cum just thinking of you?’
Stiles peeked up at him through long lashes ‘really?’
‘Yes. You’re mine.’ He growled into his throat, and they continued to kiss, until Stiles fell asleep and Peter held his tempting little mate throughout the night. Things were going to be different, and yet the same. But one thing was for certain. The second Stiles turned eighteen, Peter was going to wring orgasm after orgasm out of him.