Peter sneered as he looked at the piles of papers that were scattered on his desk. He hated when his work life invaded his house. Which was too often. He was the head of R&D for a reason, having put his niece Laura into CEO and his nephew Derek into CFO as soon as he could do it. He wanted to just invent and live his life. He didn't want all of the shit that came with having a job like that. Cora worked directly under Peter as his second in the department, and she made sure that she did everything he was supposed to do. She was paid well for it as well. She was happy where she was, and she focused more on internal security than anything else. If someone else came along willing to do what she did, he would have Laura move Cora over to security where she wanted to be.

"You have to pick," Cora said over the computer.

"I don't need someone. Alana does just perfect," Peter said.

"No, Alana doesn't because you have things you do have to get done. Projects and the like, and you cut her off. We've tried this for two years since you fired your last one, and you have gotten worse at getting things done. You are smart as hell, but you need a minder, and Alana is not enough. Pick one or Derek, Laura, and I will. By the end of the workday, which is eight at night, our time. Not eight in Hawaii. So pick."

Peter ended the call, and he looked at the papers again. He dug through and pulled out all of the headshots that were in there. As much as Peter hated living with someone, he knew humans. He had started out heading to a psychology degree to work on things for the company. Then he had shifted just before getting into the classes for the later parts of the degree. He had worked on something with Talia for assisted living, and things had changed. Technology had always come easy to Peter, code even easier, so he had never felt like he needed to work for it. Then he had found the path that merged both.

Which was how Peter had shot up in the company in the years since and why he buried himself in work after the death of his sister and her husband. Talia and Greg had left all four of their kids to Peter. Laura had been seventeen at the time, so he hadn't had to do much with her, but that was when Peter had built a place to work at his house. He worked from home more than anything else, and he loved it. After Spencer had gone to college, Peter had just never left.

Peter wasn't agoraphobic. He went out, and he ate dinner. He had friends, but his house was his castle, and other than visits from the kids, he liked being alone. The kids all each had a house on the land though, it was all safe and built like a fortress.

The array of people wasn't exactly a grouping of people that Peter would like to stare at daily, but then again, he knew that looks weren't important. He ripped down two pictures because their files were shit. They would piss him off more than anyone else in the world, and he might end up killing them.

An hour later, Peter had it down to two people. He couldn't pick between them, so he sent an email to Cora with the names attached and told her to pick between them. The woman was bisexual, and the man was gay, which Peter insisted on when they pushed this. He was gay as fucking hell, and he refused to hide that from anyone, so there was a clause that if they lied about their sexuality, Peter would sue them. He refused to be abused in his own home by someone who hated him for who he fucked.

Peter turned his focus to his work and then what he was going to do for dinner. He had a reservation at a lovely place, but he wasn't sure that he wanted to eat alone there. He might try and talk Derek into going out with him. He messaged his nephew and then focused on work again. There was a glitch in the code that he needed to get fixed.

---

"Rise and shine," a voice called out.

Peter opened his eyes and tried to figure out who was in his house that would have gotten access.

"Mister Peter doesn't like being woken up before ten," Alana said.

"Ah, but he is the one that made this appointment at eight, and it's just before seven. It takes him forty minutes to get ready, and it'll take us twenty to get across town and get breakfast that I have called in to be picked up, or we will be late."

Peter was going to kill whoever this was. He rolled over and took in the young man wearing a pair of jeans that were ill-fitted and a long-sleeved plaid shirt over what looked like a graphic T-shirt. Peter didn't remember this face, so that meant that his nieces and nephew had picked someone else for him. Peter wasn't sure that he liked this.

"You are fired," Peter said.

"Ah, I'm not working for you. I'm working for Hale Tech. I was told by Miss Hale, Miss Hale, and Mister Hale that you cannot fire me. So, I'm here until they fire me."

"Well, not if I lock you out," Peter said.

"I am sorry, Mister Peter, but he was given priority codes, and unless he is a threat to your person, I cannot throw him out."

"So, I have to live with you?" Peter asked.

"Yes, Sir," the man said.

"What is your name?" Peter asked. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose.

"Mieczyslaw, Sir."

"Polish?" Peter asked. He had seen the name just once before in a book. He had learned how to say it, but he wanted to make sure that he had the origin correct.

"Yes."

"So, Mieczyslaw, your parents must have hated you."

"Name for my mother's father. I went by two different nicknames growing up. The first was when I couldn't say Mieczysław, and the second was when my third-grade teacher refused to call me Mischief, and she also refused to learn how to say my name. She was fired at the end of the year for a lot of things that my father found out about her just based on the fact that she was a bitch who treated me like shit his words."

"So, what was your second name?"

"Stiles."

"And what name do you prefer?"

"Stiles most of the time. Sometimes when I feel like I need to make sure that someone understands that I am smarter than then, I force them to call me Mieczyslaw."

"Sounds like the kind of person I like. So you are smart, and yet you work as my assistant."

"I have severe ADHD. I need things to focus on, and sometimes when I'm in a stretch of creativity slump. I've got my laptop and everything I need to live here for the next month while you actually work on finding someone to replace me."

"So you are not my assistant?" Peter asked.

"I am your temp assistant. I'm doing this as a favor to Miss Hale."

"Which one?" Peter asked.

"The youngest. Now, get up and get ready. I will be annoying as hell if you are not ready to go when it's time. I sent the information about when we have to leave to get the food you like. If not, we will eat whatever cardboard shit at the meeting, and we both know that you hate those things. You hate coffee that some cat didn't shit out."

Peter looked at the young man. There was something about him. He would figure it out. He would find it, and he would destroy him.

---

It was eight days later when Peter came out of a genius spiral, as Derek called it. He stepped into the kitchen from the basement and found Stiles dancing around. He was dressed like he always was, a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a T-shirt under that. Peter watched him as he danced and sang. It was always with the singing. Peter still had no idea who the hell he was and where he had seen him before. He had done a search on his face but found nothing online. He was beautiful enough to have been on billboards, but his work history was clean as fucking hell. He had gone to school and worked freelance in the tech world since then. Peter hadn't been given his full file, but there wasn't enough to make Peter even think that he had modeled a damned thing.

"Good morning, Mieczyslaw," Peter said.

Stiles didn't react.

"Alana," Peter said.

The lights in the room lowered and then raised up. Stiles turned around, and he smiled at Peter.

"I nearly have breakfast ready. Coffee is done brewing."

Peter nodded his head. He walked over and grabbed the coffee pot. Stiles lived off coffee, just not the coffee that Peter liked. He had his own coffee maker that he brought with him. He had his own food. He did live with Peter in the small wing of the house that Peter had built on for his assistants long before he had chosen to use Alana.

The only downside that he had for Stiles was that the man sang too much. He was always singing. Every time Peter found him, he was on his laptop, and he was doing something that Peter couldn't see. He had screens on his laptop that ensured that he couldn't see unless Peter was directly behind him at his level.

Peter knew that Stiles worked freelance, but he never talked about what he did.

"How is the search for an intern to train up to replace you?" Peter asked.

"I have three hundred and eight candidates, and I'm weeding through them."

"Good. I need your help with the suit tonight."

"Gladly, I still don't understand how you cannot tie a tie."

Peter nodded his head. He never understood it either. He had tried. He had dexterous fingers, a mind that could help him lay a circuit board with his eyes on anything but it, but he could never tie a tie. His father despaired of him ever learning. So whoever came to work for Peter had to know how to tie ties.

Stiles served him breakfast, and Peter dug into his omelet and the fried potatoes. He looked at the newspaper on the screen built into the countertop. There were screens like that all over the house. It was something that Peter made sure was all over for reasons. He worked all over the place.

"Alana, schedule?" Peter asked.

"You just have work and one online conference call with the other lesser heads of R&D about the newest joint project."

"Ah, the project that we have the one wunderkind coming in for," Peter said. He remembered the project. There was a new face on the market of AI-assisted living. Peter wanted him to work for Hale Tech. The young man was playing hard to get and sticking behind the lawyer that he had hired. The woman was a viper.

"Yes."

"When does that start?"

"Twenty-four days, the head of Spark will finally be here then."

"Good. Good. Anything else on the horizon?"

"You are about to drop eggs on your shirt," Stiles said.

Peter looked at his fork to see that Stiles was right. He had his laptop on his lap where he was sitting on the counter. There was one spot on the counter that he sat on. Nothing was ever prepped there, so it was safe and clean. Living was horrible with most people, but it wasn't nearly as bad other than the singing with Stiles. He could do without it.

"Thanks." Peter focused on eating again, and he watched Stiles.

Stiles had his food cut up already, and he used a fork to eat, his eyes rarely leaving the screen and his hand never pausing in typing one-handed.

Given how much Stiles typed, Peter was pretty sure that he was a writer of some sort. He wasn't sure as he couldn't get close enough to see what he was doing. However, all Peter cared about was that he was doing the job he was being paid to do, and he was. He and Alana worked well together to get Peter where he needed to be when he needed to be there. He hadn't been late to a damned thing in the last eight days. Peter hadn't realized how bad off he had gotten since firing his last assistant.

Peter rarely used a phone for calls, so most calls were routed to others, and if someone needed to talk to him, he was sent an email or a text with who he needed to call, which made Stiles' job easier. Peter wasn't sure what Stiles' other jobs were before this, but he knew there was an end time on their working relationship. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

---

Peter knew he was drunk. He knew that he was too drunk to be around people. Yet, here was Stiles on his knees in front of him, untying his shoes. It had been so long since Peter had a relationship. He was sure that he could have scored any one person or more than one person at the party, but random hookups were not his thing. He would rather just use his hand than bed a stranger.

"You have pretty lips, did you know that?" Peter asked.

"I'm well aware. And Mister Hale, if the next words out of your mouth are that you would love to see my pretty lips wrapped around your cock, I will make sure the next week is hell for you. I will work with Alana to micromanage your life to the extent that you feel like you are in prison."

"Noted," Peter said. He hadn't actually thought to say something like that. No, his thoughts were more on kissing Stiles.

"Good. Now can you get your pants undone and drop them? Underwear still on, please."

Peter felt like a child, but he knew that he would have hit the floor if he had tried to untie his shoes. Stiles had offered to get him undressed for bed, and Peter hadn't seen a reason to sleep in his clothes.

Getting Peter down to his underwear was pretty quick. Peter found that Stiles had done this before, but something about it made Peter a little upset. Stiles didn't drink. Peter had seen him with a glass of champagne in his hand while talking to people; it had never gone down, and when the bubbles were pretty much all gone, he would then trade it off for another glass. That was something very strange, but Peter also knew that people handled their addictions in different ways.

"Thank you," Peter said as Stiles moved to the door to slip out.

"You are most welcome."

Peter didn't remember anything else until the sunshine was hitting him in the face. He groaned and threw a pillow over his face.

"Alana, time," Peter said.

"It's just after eleven in the morning. Mister Stiles is in the kitchen working, and you have seven texts from your niblings. None of them are urgent."

"Good because it's Saturday." Peter wasn't working today. He had no reason to. He needed the break, and there was nothing dire that needed his attention. "Is Stiles working?"

"I think so, Sir. I cannot access what he's working on since he is on his own network, but he's typing away at around eighty words a minute when he gets going, slower the rest of the time."

"What's for lunch?" Peter finally moved the pillow off his face. He was tired as hell, and he knew he had drunk way too much.

"Mister Stiles said that he was going to order from that place you both like with enough food to feed an army so that he doesn't have to do any cooking. I think that he is working to a deadline of some kind on whatever project he is working on."

"You know what I like. Make sure we get a lot of the stuff I like, especially breakfast foods. What's on the agenda for today?" Peter asked.

"You have a meeting with two potential assistants online since they are in New York City. Stiles will sit in on them, but they are not until five this evening as they don't get off work until just before that."

"Excellent," Peter said. He didn't mean it. He would rather just keep Stiles.

"May I suggest you get out of bed, Mister Peter?" Alana asked.

Peter flipped Alana off. He did get up, though, and stumbled to the bathroom to get a shower in to wake himself up. He let his thoughts run around in his head and wasn't shocked when it settled on paranoia. There was a reason why he didn't have a spouse.

When he was done with that, he looked at himself in the mirror. He looked better than he had in a long time.

"Alana, what access does Stiles have to anything Hale Tech?" Peter asked as he worked a little product through his hair.

"Very little. He only accesses the shared calendar on my ports around the house. Why?"

"Nothing," Peter said. He was paranoid, and he knew it, but he was worried about how good Stiles was at what he did now. Stiles was too good at what he did. "Actually, I want his whole file."

"Of course, I'll work on that right away."

Peter nodded to himself in the mirror, and then he headed out to get dressed.

Stiles was sitting on the counter in the kitchen with a cup of coffee beside him. He was typing away, his head bopping to music from his headphones. He was singing along but not loud enough that Peter could make out what it was. Peter watched him as he typed. Stiles' situational awareness was shit if he had his headphones in.

"Alana, lights," Peter said. After getting smacked in the face, Peter had Alana mess with the lights to get Stiles' attention when he was working.

"Morning," Stiles said when he popped the headphones out. "Alana told me what you wanted for lunch. I have the stack of papers you said you wanted last night on your desk in your office upstairs. Cora will call just before the meeting tonight. I have their files on your desk as well, with everything I could find on them to supplement what they gave Hale Tech. Your coffee is over there. I made the pot when Alana said you were getting dressed."

"Thanks," Peter said. He looked as Stiles went back to typing. Peter made his coffee, watching Stiles as he typed, and it wasn't until he was a minute into it that Peter realized that he had been too focused on the screen and not Stiles' fingers. He wasn't writing words. He was typing out code of some kind, not just like gibberish words code, but the kind of code that was Peter's stock and trade. "Where is your unedited file?"

Stiles stopped typing and looked up at Peter with a grin on his lips.

"Nine days to get worried about what I do. I guess that's good. Don't worry, this bit of shit I'm working on has nothing to do with Hale Tech unless you are working on a database that makes it easier for law enforcement from the level of small beat cops in malls to FBI agents to track crime across the country with minimal input from the officers. It scans the reports that are submitted, and officers can add to those reports as needed. I won the contract bid for it two months ago."

"That really doesn't answer the question about your file."

"Cora has my full file," Stiles said.

Cora, not Miss Hale like Stiles usually did. He only sued first names if Peter questioned him.

"Where are you from?"

"Ah, I wondered, but I guess that really does answer it. I'm from here. Beacon Hills born and raised. My father was also; my mom came to live here with her father when she was still in grade school. I know the tech empire that the Hales built has been the backbone of Beacon Hills. I started to learn to code when I could not sleep because my ADHD medication had a bad reaction, and my system needed to be flushed before I started something else. After that, I found that it helped a lot with my whole ADHD thing; even when I'm on my medication, I could work. I do find that I get bored, hence jobs like this."

"It's a very strange job for someone who codes," Peter said.

"It might be, but it works for me.",

"And your family?" Peter asked.

"I'm in touch with my father every day. Mother is dead, and I have no siblings."

"Friends?"

"Cora, Spencer, and Derek. Well, Derek would never actually claim me as a friend. Laura was too old, so I never got to know her that well."

Peter wondered how he had never met this young man before. There had been one friend of Cora's, the Sheriff's son, before Peter had moved the kids to where he was after their parents died. Moving back to Beacon Hills had only happened when Peter had moved the headquarters here when he wanted to slow down and give everything over to the kids.

A memory came to mind of a young boy scared of a thunderstorm and hiding in the living room corner. He was shoved in so tight that Peter had been afraid of hurting him to get him out of there. Then a crack of thunder happened, and the boy had shot out into Peter's arms and cried himself to sleep there. The Sheriff's wife had died not too long before, and things were not good between father and son. Peter had only met the kid that day when he had shown up at Peter's house with the lie on his father's lips dropping him off. Peter had played his hand well then.

When morning dawned, Peter called the station to talk to whoever was in charge. No one was looking for the boy. The Sheriff hadn't known he wasn't at home, and he had been home for hours at that point, having left probably about the time that the boy had set off for their place.

So Peter had used his money to pressure the Sheriff into being a good father. He had promised to sue the man until he had nothing left, and then he would take his kid from him. After that, Cora had said that things were a lot better with the boy and his father.

"You even gave me your name," Peter said.

"He was pissed for a long time, but then he realized what it was. You were dealing with four children who had just lost both of their parents. You could see how hurt I was, and you fixed it. It might not have been the best way in the world, but it was a way, and it worked. Things were a lot better after that. Even if I was pissed at your for taking away my friends."

"I can't help you not knowing me from that," Stiles said as he looked up.

"What did your father do after I scared him?"

"Well, I needed to get them away."

"Oh, adult me and even teenage me understood. I was just not in a place at that point in time to understand it."

Peter nodded his head. He could understand that. Cora had been the worst about the move. It was only the Internet that had stopped her from running away. As far as he knew, she talked almost exclusively with Stiles online for the first two years of moving away. Then Cora had made a few other friends.

"So, what do you hope to gain out of this?" Peter asked.

"Money and a lot of it. Time to feel like I don't have to stress about this code. Distraction."

"What kind of distraction?" Peter asked. Close to time for Stiles to leave, he would not be averse to bedding him. Never when he was expected to work with him.

"Not that kind. Never that kind," Stiles said.

It was the tone that Stiles used that told Peter that something bigger was going on there.

"Stiles?"

"Sorry. Just ignore me. I didn't get enough sleep."

"No, tell me."

"Alana," Stiles said. He closed his laptop and fiddled with the headphones. He was nervous.

"It was handled by Derek last night, but one of the investors at the function did not like taking no for an answer. H assumed that since Stiles was your assistant, that meant you were fucking him. He didn't like that Stiles refused him."

"I see. Tell Laura that Chad's money is no longer needed."

"Oh, she did. She told him in front of everyone. It was while you were in the back with Deucalion and discussing the new project with him."

"Ah, when I came back to the room, it was very different. I started to drink more then."

"Yes, Sir, you did."

Stiles snorted as he always did when Alana used the disapproving tone.

"What happened next?"

"Derek escorted him out. He screamed that he would take away all investors, but no one wanted to be associated with him. Many have already begun to distance themselves. He had Stiles in a corner and was feeling him up, yelling at him for not getting hard when he was touching him."

"Charges?"

"I already filed them. The video was handed over, from when he began to not take no for an answer to when he was escorted out. He was picked up on drunk driving charges as well. I think that Cora called that in. Anyway, even without last night, sex is...hard for me."

"Asexual?" Peter asked. He had a sour taste in his mouth from thinking about someone who didn't like or want sex having to be forced to be touched.

"No, I like sex. I sometimes do have sex with friends who understand that I need the touch. Demisexual."

"Sexual attraction through romantic feelings. Not the worst thing in the world, but still something that makes last night horrible. Do you need to get away?"

"No, I'm good. Cora's coming over later to hang out with me and watch stuff on your stupid TV."

"Good. I have a few things I'm going to be doing beyond the meetings. Don't feel the need to stick around for me. You and Cora can easily help me with the interviews if you want."

Stiles was lost in his own thoughts, and Peter could tell that. There were layers to the young man that Peter wasn't sure what the hell would happen to him when he left here.

---

Peter watched Stile all the time, usually through cameras when he was working. During the day, Peter and Stiles had little contact. Breakfast and dinner were the main points, but sometimes, he would come down and take notes if there was a meeting.

There was one piece of the puzzle that Peter was missing, but he hadn't figured it out yet. Stiles knew things that the kids never would have known. It was like Stiles had watched him.

"Sir, I found it," Alana said.

Peter laid down his soldering iron and looked up.

"Freshman year of college for Stiles, he took an upper-level class where you were the guest teacher that semester. He was in the background, but he asked a lot of questions. I found your notes about the class. You called him Mitch."

"Ah, yes, his normal professor called him a bastardized version of Mieczyslaw. I remember that now." Peter had enjoyed the hell out of the class, and Mitch had been the main reason why. His brain had worked much like Peter's, but when the semester was over, Peter had gone back to work and focused solely on that again.

"I also think that he's technically working as a spy right now," Alana said.

"What?"

"For your niblings, not corporate espionage. If he is, well, he's good at it. He only ever interacts with me to change dates in your calendar or mate notes. However, I think that he's also the man in charge of Spark."

"How do you figure?" Peter could see it. The way that he was protected. His mind was pretty much a sponge, and having someone controlling him would not be good. He was the kind of person who could make a bomb and not realize it could be used like that. Peter had grown fond of him in the time he was there. The fact that Stiles also wasn't in this for getting into Peter's bed. It was the issue with hiring someone who was into men. Peter had tried hiring only lesbians at one point, but they tended to not like him as he was brash even for them, or at least the ones he hired had been.

"Show me everything," Peter said.

Three hours were spent as Peter worked on that instead of work. Stiles was in the living room still, singing along to whatever music he was listening to while bobbing his head along and typing away. Peter found everything he could and then gathered it onto his tablet before he headed up to confront Stiles.

Stiles was sitting on the couch where Peter had last seen him. He was, however, asleep. Peter stopped and looked at him, seeing that he looked like shit.

"How long has he had the bags under his eyes?" Peter asked.

"He told me that the bags appear even after only a few hours of missed sleep with him."

"Hmm. Threat analysis," Peter said. He knew that Alana wouldn't need to know who he was talking about.

"I actually think that you are more of a threat. He's not interested in anything but having a place to hide, I think," Alana said.

"There are a lot of people who are looking into the threat that Spark shows into the business, aren't they?" Peter asked.

"Yes, I think so."

"Call Cora and tell them that the interviews aren't needed. Stiles and I will come to an agreement."

"Sir?" Alana asked.

"I'll figure something out. If they want to come and talk to me, they can come here and do it. I'll also work on the offer I was going to make to Spark and his company. I figure that he protects the few staff he has. Going by what I know of Stiles and given what I found out about that lawyer, I would say that almost everyone is someone he went to school with. He'll want to make sure that none of them are assaulted by idiots who don't know when no really means no because they don't understand how someone can't want them, for business or pleasure."

"Of course, dinner?"

"That pizza place that they all like."

"I will do that. Including what Stiles likes on his pizza?"

"Sure." Peter couldn't remember Stiles talking about that, but Stiles had spent a lot of time just talking to Alana.

Peter really hoped that he didn't regret what he was doing.

---

Cora, Derek, and Laura appeared at the same time. Spencer was, of course, still in school, so he couldn't just drop things and fly across the country. He had his stake in the company, but he had already signed off on what was going to happen. Peter had talked to him first. He was the only Hale sibling that didn't gossip like a ninny.

Stiles had woken up and just started back to work again. Peter had watched him from the lab. Thankfully, the kids came in through the basement garage access instead of through the front door. He had no idea what they were going to want to do about this.

"You are not firing Stiles."

"No, I am not. I'm thinking of offering a permanent job of sorts. A partnership between Hale Tech and Spark Industries," Peter said.

"Ten bucks," Cora said.

Derek and Laura handed it over.

"Where is Stiles?" Derek asked as he looked around that lab like Stiles was just going to pop out and scream "boo" at them.

"Upstairs." Peter waved at the TV, showing Stiles sitting on the floor in a corner with his back pressed to the wall and his laptop in his lap.

"He's not sleeping."

"No, he's not been since the heavy-handed pass was made, and his no wasn't respected. The asshole is in jail for that, by the way. The DA was able to use what he ranted about on his phone call to make them keep him in jail. He's a threat."

"He doesn't do well with that kind of thing. He was attacked by someone who was going after his father. It was when he really retreated to coding and the like. His legs were broken, and he used a wheelchair for a time."

Peter had heard of that. He had heard about the Sheriff's son. He had even sent along money as a donation to cover the boy's therapy when his medical insurance fell short. Cora had browbeaten him into it. Peter hadn't been that upset about it. Cora swore that she would never tell the Sheriff's son. Peter was pretty sure that she never had.

"He was napping earlier; I hoped it would make him a little better. He seemed to be sleeping pretty deep."

"Yeah, he sometimes does that. Sleep better during the day."

"Hmm. Okay so. Here. Read it over. I will go in and grab stuff to drink. Does he drink sparkling grape juice?"

"Yes," Cora answered.

"Good. I got a stock of stuff that I think he might like after finding out he doesn't drink. His father?"

"Yes. Look, I'll give up some stuff, but most of it needs to come from him if you want to build a relationship with him."

"Don't ask him for sex," Derek said as soon as Cora was done speaking.

"I will not. I know he's demisexual," Peter said.

"He told you?"

"After the thing at the party."

"What is the aim of this?" Laura asked as she looked at the papers in her hand. She had been reading while they had been talking.

"To not let him go. I have made the offer four times to have Spark come under the Hale Tech umbrella. He would retain all rights and privileges as the little CEO he is, but he would be able to call on us for help. It's just like all other contracts of the companies that hold our name under their own."

Peter never wanted to just conquer. He would rather have eighty companies under the Hale umbrella than have to pull those other companies into him and pull all of the problems into Hale Tech as well. Talia had pulled a few companies into Hale Tech that had caused a few issues.

The Hale name was worth a lot, and Peter loved to help people spread their wings.

"Standard out clause?" Laura asked.

"Yes, the normal buyout and the normal way to leave the company with us if he wants to step down. He's brilliant."

"How do you know?" Cora asked.

"I know that I want Spark. He's the main person in Spark, and that means that he's brilliant."

"Am I really?" Stiles asked.

Peter looked to the side to see Stiles leaning in the doorway. "Alana?"

"Sorry, Sir, I was getting the pizza, and my priorities were elsewhere."

"Sneaking up on us isn't exactly the nicest thing to do," Peter said.

Stiles yawned, covering his mouth as he did so. He looked like he still needed a hell of a lot of sleep. Peter was pretty sure his not sleeping had been for longer than this.

"I'm not nice. No one who knows me tells me I'm nice. So let's get these talks out of the way since it's a full-on Hale convention here today."

"The pizza has been left on the table in the entryway," Alana said.

"Yeah, pizza. I'm starved."

Peter looked at Cora for a second, and he saw the worry on her face as well. She was worried about Stiles.

---

Peter found Stiles curled up again on the couch in the living room.

"Set our alarms for later," Peter said.

"His is on his phone. I have no control of them."

"Well, then I guess that I'll be leaving his phone here. I'll put it where you can see it and alert us if something comes through."

Peter picked up Stiles' phone and moved it to where Alana had the best camera angle to see it. He then walked over and picked up Stiles. He had been taking him to his bed every single morning over the last three days. Whatever nightmares he was having, he had them less in the living room, but one had woken up Peter the other day. So today, Peter was going to try something else. He carried Stiles up to the master bedroom. It wasn't the best option, but it was the only one in Peter's mind. He had plans, and he was going to see them through.

Laying Stiles down, Peter looked at him. He was wearing a pair of sleep pants and a T-shirt that looked really old, but it was still in pretty good condition. Peter now felt tired as hell himself. He worked out, kept his body pretty sharp. Running on the treadmill and doing other things on the small home gym, he had allowed his brain to kind of wander around, and it helped him think better. Especially when he was stuck. He always ended up on the treadmill when he was stuck.

Peter covered up Stiles with the extra blanket and then grabbed the body pillow and laid it on the other side of Stiles before he walked around to climb in. The body pillow would be between them, and Stiles had his own blankets. Peter had been debating this for a little while. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he hated that Stiles was so affected. Cora had disclosed that he was in talks with his therapist that he had used for years after the attack by the person who had injured his legs.

It took Peter a little while to go to sleep again, but Stiles didn't seem to be waking up even after being moved around. It told Peter that he needed sleep.

Peter felt the bed move, and he waited to see what was going to happen. He had been mostly asleep when the bed first moved. He had no clue how Stiles was going to take this. Peter had been interested in Stiles, but as long as he was Peter's assistant, he wasn't ever going to hint at that. Yet, they were not too long away from that, and Peter wouldn't be averse to firing Stiles from the assistant job.

Stiles got out of the bed, and Peter looked to see him heading to the bathroom. Peter closed his eyes again and rolled to his side to where he was facing where Stiles had been lying. It wasn't long before he was back. He crawled right into bed, and in a move that Peter considered bold as hell, he threw the body pillow to the floor and then slipped to where his back was pressed to Peter's front. Peter listened as Stiles' breathing evened out in what seemed like seconds.

"Cora would like me to point out that in high school, he would curl in bed with Lydia when he had nightmares if he was staying with her and her parents while his father was working the overnight shifts while he was injured," Alana said.

"I see," Peter said, and he did see it. It wasn't that it was Peter. It was that he wasn't alone. Peter closed his eyes, and he let himself slip into sleep again. They had nothing scheduled the next day, and if they both took it off, it wasn't going to be horrible.

Stiles was rarely not working, even if it was just reviewing his stuff. He had calmed down slightly with how much he worked, but he still worked, just at less intensity. Peter moved slowly, wrapping an arm around Stiles' middle. Stiles made a noise and pushed back into Peter more.

Peter wondered if Stiles was touch starved. He seemed like he might be. He never ducked away from Peter's touch when he laid a hand on his shoulder when moving around him. Peter had learned to do that mainly because otherwise, Stiles could turn around and hit him in the face or, one time, the groin. Stiles settled down again, and his breathing stayed much the same. Peter wasn't sure he would be able to sleep anymore. He looked to the side of the room where the time was on display. It was just after eight.

"Anything missed on either phone?"

"Stiles has a text from Cora, and I couldn't see it all, but it was mainly just a check-in for when he was done with whatever work spiral he is working on. Nothing major from what I can tell."

Peter nodded his head and closed his eyes. He wondered how Cora would feel about this. Peter had worried too much about the person he was with as long as they were over the age of consent. He had met men and women older than him who acted younger and had the emotional maturity of a teenager. Stiles seemed pretty set in his ways, and Peter wouldn't be someone to change him the wrong way.

"Hey, Peter?" Stiles called a few seconds later.

Peter froze where he was and waited to see what Stiles was going to do next.

"Are you going to answer me?" Stiles asked.

"Sorry, yes, Stiles?" Peter asked. He let his lips curl into a facsimile of a smile before he tipped his head down to rest his forehead on Stiles' shoulder.

"I quit," Stiles said.

"Well, that's very unprofessional. What am I going to do? I need an assistant to keep my life going. I simply cannot function without one."

Stiles didn't answer at first, and Peter thought that Stiles was taking him seriously for a few seconds. Then a hand was touching his fingers and pulling his hand from Stiles' stomach. Stiles played with his fingers for a few seconds before tugging the hand up to his cheek and pressing it there.

"Stiles?" Peter asked.

"I like you. Even when you are an asshole, you are pretty good. You care about your company enough to know you don't have what it takes to run it, but you made sure that your niblings all got the jobs they wanted, the career they wanted. You are a good man, and I want that. I just have no clue how to do this. You like sex."

"I do like sex, and I would never expect my partner to give me sex when I wanted it, even if they were not on the asexual spectrum. I can live without sex. I have done so for a while, as long as you don't mind me taking care of my erections in the bathroom and the bed if you are not in bed."

"I wouldn't mind watching on occasion. Seeing what you like. I also wouldn't mind jerking you off sometimes, as long as you don't expect me to get hard."

"I don't expect you to do anything. Turn over, sweetheart," Peter said. He waited for Stiles to do as he asked and then cupped the side of Stiles' face. "This is going to be a little crass, but I don't need your hand on me to jerk off. I can just as easily use my own hand and think it's yours."

Stiles laughed and turned his head to where it was pressing into the hand on his cheek. "I don't mind, once we've gotten to a certain point. I like intimacy like this. Lydia tells me that I like this kind of intimacy even better than sexual, which I think it's strange but I kind of agree. I had a crush on her all through school. I liked her brain, but then my friend got a girlfriend, and listening to how he talked about her, I realized that I didn't like people the way others did. I spent a week researching that, and I mean, I knew about asexuality, but I didn't realize how big of an umbrella term it was. I realized that I fell into Demi, and I never looked back."

Stiles turned his head to look Peter fully in the eye. "I know who I am. I know what I want. You didn't freak out after I told you, and you have even put me into your bed. You used a different blanket, and you put a large pillow between us."

"Cora said that sometimes just having someone in the same room worked, but I have no room with two beds or even two couches. So this was the best option. You slept, and I think you slept well."

"Whenever I have nightmares, it's always the same kind of ones. I used to sleepwalk as well, so that's something to look forward to. My mom tried to kill me a few times when she was sick, in the end. It was her illness, thinking that I was the one doing it to her. I dream of that. I dreamt of the attack when I was in high school. I dream of the car accident I saw happen when a drunk driver rammed into a car full of kids. They all swirl around and worsen the more I don't sleep, but then I can't sleep because of the nightmares. It's not a good cycle."

"No, it wouldn't be. What suggestion do you offer?"

"Can I come in here? If I wake up from a nightmare, I can slip into your bed without being called a cocktease."

"Oh, sweetheart, you could grind on my lap while we make out, and I wouldn't call you a cock tease. I do love kissing and have spent afternoons doing it without the need for orgasm."

"I like kissing too."

Peter could see the want in his eyes. It was just bright enough in there with the light from the open bathroom door. Stiles had left the light on, and Peter hadn't really noticed it. It wasn't the full light, but it was enough to cast the place and make a few things visible.

Rolling onto his back, Peter pulled at Stiles until he was half on him; their groins were not touching each other at all, and Stiles moved to brace himself above Peter. He leaned down and kissed him, hesitant and unsure.

Peter gave it a moment before he reached up and cupped the back of Stiles' head to bring him down a little more forcefully. He groaned into the kiss and used his other hand to hold Stiles right there.

It didn't take long for the kiss to turn from pressing the lips to full-on making out. Peter felt himself getting hard, but he didn't press up into Stiles, and he just held on.

Stiles yawning into the kiss made them stop for a few seconds. He looked down at Peter with happiness in his eyes.

"You know, I was very upset that they pushed an assistant on me that I didn't hire. Then you were an asshole, but you kept up with me, and you didn't push me to be anything other than what I was. I had a few that tried to change me over the years. Even more than some boyfriends had done. I was happy to have you in my life after about two days. You worked with Alana instead of against her."

"Alana's a wonderful bit of tech. I love her very much. I would never push to be anything other than support for her. I have a few ideas on someone to take over for me in a little while. You'll be fine over the next two weeks as there isn't much to be done that you will need an assistant for that isn't the one that's stationed at the office. However, there is one thing I want to talk about."

"Yes?" Peter asked.

"Dad's coming to visit me for dinner. He knows I'm through the stuff I was hermitting for. Do you want to come?"

"Hmm, meeting the Sheriff when we haven't even had a date out yet."

"Well, today's a good day for that. Breakfast date? Maybe a lunch date? Then it'll be two dates before you meet my father. I have already met all of your family; it's only right."

"You are an asshole," Peter said.

Stiles smiled like Peter had called him a cutesy nickname. He always figured that their relationship would be a strange one. He had always kind of figured it would be strange even if they hadn't started dating.

"I guess that I can. Now, do you want more sleep?"

"No, coffee, all the coffee. Then we can shower and head out to find something lovely for breakfast. One of those places with the fancy tea you like so much?"

"I only like fancy tea when I make it, but there is a place I will deign to get it from. So, you go and get ready to head out, and I'll call and make a reservation. I'm sure there will be one for us; they have a list of people."

"No one will get bumped, will they?" Stiles asked.

"No, I wouldn't do that for this kind of thing. They have a few tables that are not filled except for regulars unless it's a big event. They open in an hour for actual business. It's a place that is only open for late breakfast and lunch and then is closed again until evening. Sometimes they do all day on the weekends if something is going on in town."

"Sounds good." Stiles sat up, and he tugged at Peter until Peter came up with him.

Peter snagged Stiles' hand and pulled him close to where Stiles was half in his lap. Stiles twisted to where he was fully in his lap. Stiles hissed a little when he found Peter's hard cock and tried to pull away. Peter stopped him. "No, not for me. If you are pulling away for me, don't. If feeling my hard cock does upset you, I would prefer if you did back off."

"I don't know, really. I just don't like being called a tease."

"I don't think that you would ever tease me. That would be just like me teasing you with sex stuff. I know you aren't trying to work me up, but unfortunately, you are hot to me, and therefore erections will happen. I will never expect you to take care of them."

Stiles nodded, and he settled fully into Peter's lap and just seemed to want to cuddle for a moment, so Peter wrapped his arms around him. Stiles shuddered just a little, but he gripped tightly to Peter's arms and held on. Peter was right that he was touch starved. Peter wondered if him telling Cora that was a good idea or not. She wasn't that touchy-feely, but he had seen her touch Stiles more than anyone else she did. Laura loved to hug her close just to piss her off. Peter could easily push Laura toward Stiles if Stiles got too uncomfortable with Peter holding him.

"So we are doing this?" Peter asked.

"Yes, we are."

"Good, then I'm gonna woo the fuck out of you."

Stiles laughed and pressed a kiss to Peter's neck. He paused with his lips there and then laughed again before licking up the side of Peter's neck.

"You are a menace," Peter said. "You are lucky I knew that before this."

"I charm everyone into loving me in some way, shape, or form. I'm like fungus that way."

Peter laughed, and he rocked back and forth. Things would be strange for a while, but he was more than happy to have Stiles live with him because Stiles liked it here. He liked the peace he got while he was there. Peter was willing to shelter him from the storm that would happen as soon as the world knew who was behind Spark Industries. There was going to be a clamor to talk to him. A bunch of people who wanted a piece of Stiles.

This house was a refuge from the storm of the world for Peter, and he hoped it would be the same for Stiles going forward.

The End