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Peter had been disappointed when Stiles had told him no in the garage, but now that he is back from the dead, much saner than before, he has some time to watch Stiles and he’s no longer surprised Stiles said no to his offer.
The boy is not quite human, and Peter wonders how no one else has seen it yet.
Peter thought from the very beginning that Stiles is special, not only beautiful but sharp and ruthless too, and now that he spends some time with him, it all adds up. To what, Peter isn’t quite sure yet, but he knows it’s something supernatural.
He gets his books out, collects the ones from the vault too, and he finds some reports that resemble Stiles, but they all stay vague. After he has exhausted all of his resources he figures that he won’t get an answer until he goes straight to Stiles and asks him for it.
Peter is not sure if Stiles will part so easily with his secret, but Peter is a researcher at heart, the need to know stronger than anything, and he figures he has nothing to lose.
“Peter,” Stiles greets him, seemingly unsurprised to find Peter knocking at his door, instead of just climbing into his bedroom like Derek is prone to do.
“I have a few questions for you,” Peter starts, unwilling to beat around the bush for this and even though Stiles raises an inquiring eyebrow at him, he invites him in.
“Alright, let’s get some snacks and then you can ask whatever it is you want,” Stiles says, and Peter follows him into the kitchen, yet again struck by how otherworldly Stiles seems when one really looks.
Peter takes everything Stiles hands him and then follows the boy up to his bedroom, where Stiles immediately flops down on his bed, entirely unconcerned with Peter’s presence.
“Shoot,” Stiles tells him as he rips open one of the many bags he handed Peter.
“You’re not quite human, are you?” Peter asks, and he gets treated to a very rare sight.
Stiles goes completely still, not even breathing as it seems, before he sits up, food forgotten on the bed.
“Why would you say that?” Stiles asks, but his reaction already gave him away. Peter has hit a nerve.
“Something about you is just—,” Peter starts but then trails off because he doesn’t quite now how to put everything Stiles is into words.
“Off?” Stiles asks, and he sounds concerned.
“Other,” Peter corrects him, because nothing about Stiles is off. Strange, sure, but not off. And Peter is sure as soon as he knows what Stiles is, even the strangeness will make sense.
“You shouldn’t be able to tell,” Stiles says, apparently lost in thought, and Peter almost startles when Stiles suddenly jumps up from the bed and walks up to him.
“Look me in the eyes and tell me what you see,” Stiles tells him, and leans down, resting his hands on the armrests of the chair Peter’s sitting in, bringing his face so close to Peter’s their noses almost touch.
Peter doesn’t question him, just looks Stiles in the eyes, and he sucks in a sharp breath when all he can see is the stars and the never-ending vastness of space.
“You’re a Star,” he whispers, awed at this revelation, because Stars are old and secretive, and so rare there are almost no records about them.
“And of course you would know that,” Stiles says but he no longer sounds surprised. “You always know the most obscure things.”
“How old are you?” Peter asks, because Stars don’t age like anything else, they are almost eternal, especially in human for.
“I stopped counting. Millennia now, for sure,” Stiles gives back, and Peter can still see his home in his eyes.
“Why here?” Peter wants to know but he knows the answer to that already, too.
Nemetons are rare and powerful and surely someone like Stiles can find a use for one of them.
“I’ve came down here,” Stiles says, surprising Peter with that, though his voice sounds far away. “Not that anything was here when I landed.”
Crashed down, more like, if Peter is right in how Stars take human forms.
“Not even humans,” Stiles says with a small smile as if he can read Peter’s mind. Maybe he can.
Peter is not sure what exactly a Star is capable of.
“The city, and everything else, grew around me. This is my land now,” Stiles tells him.
“How come no one found out yet? Can everyone see the stars in your eyes?” Peter asks him and now Stiles laughs.
“You know so much, but never the most important things,” Stiles gives back, but there’s a fondness to his voice Peter doesn’t know how to handle.
“Only my Starling can see what you saw,” Stiles says as he sits down in Peter’s lap. “And I’m going to make sure you’ll be a Star before the century is over,” he whispers against Peter’s lips and Peter can’t help but strain up, chasing the temptation.
“You’re gonna have to explain that,” he mutters, because he always thought Stars came down to earth and aren’t made here, and Stiles chuckles. It feels delicious so close to Peter’s lips, but before Stiles can answer him, he finally brings their lips together.
Peter is fairly sure nothing is ever supposed to feel as good as this but when Stiles parts his lips even those thoughts leave him.