Chapter Text
Of course, in a twist of fate, the next pack meeting had already erupted in utter chaos by the time he arrived. Scott and Peter were almost at each other's throat, Derek keeping a gentle but steady grip on his uncle's shoulder, while across from them Isaac and Allison tried to hold Scott back from getting his ass kicked. Sorry Scotty, brains over brawn.
He cleared his throat, glad once more that he had not accepted the bite or he'd have had to hold his nose for sure with all the hormones going wild. He noticed how Peter tensed momentarily before relaxing back against Derek, whereas Scott didn't step back until he had moved into his field of vision.
Then he exclaimed, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear, "He's a stalker. He's a pervert! You have to keep away from him!", completely missing Peter's low growl or Derek's narrowed eyes darting to the drawing pad on the floor between them, before his frown deepened.
Stiles didn't miss that, however, and could hazard a guess that this newest confrontation had something to do with his and the older werewolf's newest pastime. He allowed himself to sigh, instantly exasperated with both Peter and Scott, though the latter bore the brunt of his annoyance as it was probably a completely innocent picture that had sparked their fight and it was not Peter's fault alone that both of them had kept it secret.
Calmly, he went to pick up the block and almost would have dropped it again. The drawing was innocent, yes, but it was not what he would have expected. It showed only two people, one standing, the other on his knee in front of them. And they looked distinctly like him and Peter.
While it was eerily still around him, Stiles took the time to have a closer look. This was the first time Peter had drawn him and while he wasn't vain, he had been feeling slightly self-conscious about that fact. His private pictures of Peter, the ones he wouldn't show to anyone, the ones he only drew to get them out of his head, had long ago turned decidedly not chaste.
This picture was not nearly finished, but there was an honesty to it that didn't need much detail. It had been done not with broad strokes and hard edges or prominent shadows but rather smooth, flowing lines and soft light. It looked pure.
He went back to the door where he had left his backpack after sensing the tension in the room and rummaged for a moment around. "Scott, do you know what the definition of a pervert is?" He waited just long enough to get everyone's attention, but not long enough to allow someone to answer. "That word describes a person whose - usually sexual - behaviour is unacceptable or unpleasant."
Once he had found his own sketch block, he threw it at his best friend, who barely managed to catch it as busy as he was, still attempting to kill the other man with his stare. "Peter's behaviour is neither, since I'm almost of age and we haven't done anything remotely sexual yet, although I'm not uninterested."
He briefly glanced at Peter to see his eyes flash and smirked brightly when concentrating back on Scott just as he flipped open the first pages to embraces that were just this side of too close, too tight, to be called something other than intimate. "About his stalkerish tendencies, I guess like attracts like, after all."
He was glad he had a seperate drawing pad for his crazier fantasies, so while Scott would get the picture - quite literally - he wouldn't get an eyeful. But maybe he could show those pictures to Peter after this meeting. What was the point of drawing, if he didn't let anyone see, specifically the object of said drawing?