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Stiles was staring at all the books in front of him and then he cursed. For like a minute.
He had gone through all of these, and couldn’t figure out what was happening.
They had found strange flowers, sparkling plants and insects that really shouldn’t be as big as they were, but Stiles couldn’t figure out what caused all these things.
The pack was out patrolling in hopes of finding whoever or whatever was doing this, and Stiles and Peter had stayed in the loft to research.
Well, Stiles researched. Peter was lounging on the couch, idly flipping through the channels on TV and not helping at all.
“You know, you could help,” Stiles eventually called out to him and Peter huffed.
“I could,” he agreed but he made no move to come to the table and look at the books.
“Why are you always like that?” Stiles asked him and turned around to face Peter. “Why are you never helping out and always just biting out sarcastic remarks?”
Peter raised an eyebrow at him then, but still made no move to help and Stiles cursed again.
He really had a type, and apparently it was beautiful assholes who couldn’t care less about him. Sure, Lydia was his friend now, but as soon as that had happened, his crush had vanished as well. And then there had been Derek, Stiles refused to even think about the brief Jackson period and now there was Peter.
“Forget it. You fucking suck,” Stiles mumbled and dropped his head on his arms.
He didn’t know what to do anymore. He had exhausted every source the pack had and nothing had come up.
“It’s pixies,” Peter suddenly said from besides Stiles.
“What?” he asked and snapped upright, almost falling over, only Peter’s warm hand on his back preventing him from hurting himself.
“The thing in the woods causing all these strange plants and insects. It’s pixies,” Peter explained and Stiles fully turned to him.
“And you wouldn’t say that why? They could get hurt out there!” Stiles exclaimed and Peter shook his head, something like disappointment in his gaze.
“You really think I would withhold crucial information? Information that would keep them from getting hurt?” he asked with a raised eyebrow and Stiles scoffed.
“Of course I think that. And why wouldn’t I? You don’t care about the pack,” he gave back.
“No, but you do. And I would never do anything to hurt you or those you care about, you really should know that by now,” Peter said, sounding earnest and Stiles was unable to look away from him.
“What?” he asked, unsure what was happening, because this was definitely new territory for Stiles.
None of his crushes had ever lead to something after all.
“Pixies are harmless,” Peter explained. “They are like little toddlers. They like colours and shiny, sparkling things and animals they can play with, so if they don’t find any, they enlarge smaller ones. They just want to play. They are not dangerous.”
“And you let them go out there to find that out for themselves,” Stiles summed up and Peter shrugged.
“No harm in letting them train their tracking skills,” Peter gave back and Stiles had to laugh.
“You are an asshole,” he told him and Peter seemed to take it as a compliment.
“Maybe.” He got quiet for a second before he went on. “But I’d never do anything to hurt you,” he then softly said and Stiles could feel himself blush.
“You never did,” he said after he recapped all their previous encounters. “And I trust you,” he then admitted.
“Sweetheart, you can trust me with your life,” Peter said and gently pulled Stiles closer to him, tucking him neatly into his side and pressing a kiss to his temple.
“I know that,” Stiles gave back and kissed Peter’s collarbone, since it was the only thing he could comfortably reach.
He decided the pack could train their skills a little longer. Peter was way too comfortable and warm to let go of already.