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Stiles was absorbed in the centuries old tome Peter had at home, when suddenly hands crept into his vision.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Peter asked and tugged at the book as if he wanted to take it from Stiles.
“What does it look like? I’m reading,” he gave back without actually looking away from the pages.
“Not in that book, you’re not,” Peter replied and tried to take it from him again.
“You better watch yourself, mister,” Stiles said and finally looked up while he also pulled the book closer. “You told me I’m allowed to read anything I can find and I found this, so there. I’m reading.”
Peter narrowed his eyes at him and Stiles was already smiling.
“I’m not giving it back,” he said and stood up from the table, book securely clutched in his hands while he backed away from Peter who prowled around the table.
“Oh, but I will take it,” Peter drawled and leapt at him.
Stiles shrieked and ran away, laughing too hard to really look where he was going, but the apartment wasn’t that big, so there really was nowhere to run for him.
Peter had cut him off, tackling him from the side and before Stiles could even blink the book was already plucked out of his hands.
He wanted to protest, but suddenly he was slung over Peter’s shoulder, his arm securely at the back of his knees, preventing Stiles from falling. Not that he was really worried anyway. This was Peter. He wouldn’t let him get hurt.
“You cheater,” Stiles laughed and then, because he could and it was right there, groped Peter’s ass.
“Sweetheart, I think we both know who the cheater in this relationship is, and it certainly isn’t me,” Peter gave back, laughter evident in his voice before he unceremoniously dropped Stiles on the couch.
“So, what’s the punishment for little brats like you?” Peter asked him, but there was a gleam in his eyes and Stiles knew exactly what was coming.
“NO,” he yelled right before Peter pounced on him, hands immediately going to his sides and tickling the hell out of him.
He was squirming under Peter, trying to push him away, to catch his hands, but Peter was slick as an eel and avoided all of Stiles’ attempts to capture him.
So Stiles tried to change his tactic, tried to tickle Peter in return, but Peter was a lot better in controlling his reactions so Stiles didn’t even know if it was working.
“Stop,” Stiles huffed out, too breathless with laughter to really form words but Peter was relentless and didn’t stop.
“Oh my god, Peter, please,” Stiles managed between bouts of laughter and eventually Peter stopped his vicious attack.
“Did you learn your lesson?” Peter asked, slightly out of breath and Stiles laid there, panting so much he couldn’t answer for the first few moments.
“Yes, lesson thoroughly learned,” he eventually answered and Peter was looking fondly down at him.
They were both flushed, Stiles more so than Peter and he blushed even more when Peter said: “I love you.”
Stiles raised his hands and framed Peter’s face with them before he said: “I know.”
Before Peter could protest the reference Stiles went on.
“I love you, too, Peter.”
Peter gave him a small smile, before he leaned down to capture Stiles in a light and soft kiss.
When Stiles pulled him down on the couch next to him, he didn’t even protest and instead pulled Stiles closer, stroking his hand up and down Stiles’ side.
Stiles couldn’t remember ever being this happy with someone and he was beyond elated that Peter felt the same about him.
“But don’t think the tickle issue is forgotten,” Stiles suddenly said and Peter chuckled. “I will find your weak spot one day.”
“You’re certainly allowed to try, my love,” Peter gave back and rubbed his cheek all over Stiles’ head.
Stiles absolutely would try his hardest but Peter knew that that knowledge would be safe with Stiles, just like Stiles was safe with Peter.
He pressed a kiss to Peter’s chest before he snuggled closer, book forgotten, and just content to nap right there, Peter’s arm securely around him.