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Peter doesn’t spend much time just… sitting and enjoying things.
Oh, he enjoys plenty of things. Good food, nice clothes. Really, the best of anything he chooses to treat himself with. But this is different.
“Oh, come on!” Stiles jeers at the tv screen. “That would never happen like that.”
Peter doesn’t reply, though he usually would. He’d ask Stiles how it would happen if he’s such an expert. Not because he doesn’t believe that Stiles knows, but because he loves giving Stiles the chance to shine as he proves, once again, how smart he is. How incredible.
This time, Peter simply smiles, watching Stiles fidget, struggling to hold in the knowledge he clearly wants to share.
Over the years, they’ve been many different things to each other. Enemies, rivals, reluctant allies, and, eventually, friends. He never expected them to make it to lovers, and was never really planning to try. It had just kind of… happened.
He’d gone with Derek to Stiles’ twenty-third birthday party and he couldn’t help noticing how nicely the boy had grown up. He wasn’t just a whip-smart kid anymore. He was a handsome, intelligent young man. He hadn’t done anything then, not even when he’d seen how Stiles had been appreciating Peter’s own transformation into a sane, non-homicidal member of society. He’d had a lot of therapy to get there, and Stiles has seemed surprised to hear it, but also impressed. They had spent a lot of time at Stiles’ party, getting acquainted with the people they had each become. That had been the start of their friendship.
It had been nice, getting to know Stiles as an adult. Getting to marvel over how smart he was and enjoy his humor without feeling like a creep or a villain for wanting to know him.
He still remembers the night Stiles had changed everything. They’d been out shopping. Stiles had broken another one of Peter’s mugs with his flailing as they’d been debating the factuality of the moon landing—Stiles was firm in his belief that the footage was faked (Peter was too, but he loved watching Stiles argue)—and he’d insisted on replacing it.
“Wanna go to a movie later?” Stiles had asked, not looking away from the mug he’d picked up to study.
“Sounds good,” Peter had answered just as casually. “I don’t have anything else planned.”
“Good. It’s a date,” Stiles had answered, turning around to show Peter the mug. “I’m getting you this one.”
It had a dandelion on it and said Blow Me.
Peter had raised an eyebrow. “I don’t put out on the first date,” he joked, knowing that Stiles’ use of the word was likely just a figure of speech. At least, until Stiles had trailed his eyes very obviously over Peter’s body.
“I can wait,” he’d promised, already moving toward the front of the store to pay for the mug.
Stiles hadn’t had to wait. They’d skipped the movie entirely after Peter had kissed Stiles right there in his own kitchen, standing in front of the open cabinet bearing his new mug.
Now, here they are. They’ve been together for two years and Stiles still makes Peter’s heart race.
“Ugh, this is so bad!” Stiles argues, hands waving at the tv while Peter simply smiles at his silly, brilliant, irresistible partner like a dope. “You know this isn’t how it works, right?”
Stiles turns to make sure that Peter does in fact know and pauses in his flailing when he sees Peter already looking back, smiling with amusement and something far too soft in his gaze for it to have anything to do with what they’re watching.
“What?” Stiles asks, the corner of his lip quirked like he’s already on his way to smiling at whatever Peter has to say.
“Nothing,” Peter lies smoothly, waving his own hand at the tv. “I believe you were going to tell me how these things actually work.”
Stiles narrows his eyes, knowing that Peter is lying but not sure exactly what to call him out on. “I’m only letting you get away with that because I do, in fact, have very important knowledge on the subject.”
“By all means, please share,” Peter’s grin widens. He loves this man.
Stiles is quiet for another second… seemingly unsure if he should actually go on. “Okay, no. What’s actually happening here?”
Peter huffs out a laugh. Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, and pulling out the ring box that’s been burning a hole in it all night as he stands, only long enough to kneel in front of Stiles’ spot on the couch.
Stiles eyes widen, his breath catching as the ring box appears and Peter opens it.
“I was just thinking how much I love listening to you talk. And then I was thinking about how I could listen to you teach me things for the rest of my life.” As Peter holds the ring box with one hand, he reaches out to pick up Stiles’ left hand with the other, holding it loosely and caressing his partner’s knuckles. “How about it, Stiles? Wanna marry me?”
Stiles’ eyes fill, unshed tears pooling at the corners as he looks down at Peter. “Yes,” he whispers, quiet for once. Still. At least until he leans down to kiss Peter’s lips, pulling him back up to the couch to sit next to him so that he doesn’t have to stop.
Peter laughs through their kiss, pulling away as much as Stiles will let him. “Are you going to let me put the ring on you?”
“Oh.” Stiles breathes, looking down at the ring box still held in Peter’s hand like he’d forgotten about it. “Yeah. Please.”
He holds out his hand and Peter carefully takes the ring out of the box and slips it onto Stiles' finger, where it belongs.
Stiles leans into Peter’s side as they both look at it, beautiful and full of promise.
“I can’t believe you asked first,” Stiles laughs, laying his head on Peter’s shoulder as Peter puts his arm around Stiles.
“Hmmm?” Peter asks, turning a bit to look at Stiles. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
Stiles laughs again, shaking his head. He gets up and walks into the kitchen, coming back with the dandelion mug in his hand, passing it to Peter as something clinks around inside.
“I was going to ask you tomorrow morning. On the anniversary of our first date.”
Peter stares down at the ring in what has become his favorite mug. The one he uses every single morning.
The ring is beautiful, extravagant, a bit like Peter himself. It’s perfect. Stiles’ ring is lovely, but more practical, more like Stiles. They really do make such a perfect pair.
“If it makes you feel any better,” Peter says, placing the mug down carefully and taking the ring out, handing it to Stiles. “I would have said yes.”
“I had an inkling,” Stiles teases, waving his own ringed hand in front of Peter’s face. Still, he kneels in front of Peter, holding Peter’s ring up. “Peter Walden Hale—”
“That’s not my name,” Peter interrupts, fighting a smile.
“Shhhh. I’m professing my eternal love here,” Stiles scolds playfully.
“Eternal??” Peter raises an eyebrow. “What happened to ‘til death do us part’? I have to keep you even after I die? I've changed my mind, I don’t wanna do this.”
“Shut up, zombie wolf. As if you’ve ever stayed dead. We’re just going to have to find a way to make me immortal too.”
“Ugh, fine. I probably have a book somewhere that will help,” Peter rolls his eyes playfully, but he’s unable to tame his smile. “Go on.”
“Where was I? Oh yeah, Peter Tiberius Hale—”
“Still not my name.”
“Light of my life, asshole of my heart…”
“That’s some disturbing imagery.”
Stiles laughs at Peter’s commentary but keeps going, smile softening with each word, “the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Will you marry me?”
“I know I said I’d say yes, but—”
Stiles smacks his knee and Peter breaks, everything in his heart shining on his face as he grins, nodding slowly. “Yes.”
Stiles takes Peter’s hand, sliding his ring on. It looks so good there.
“You’re gonna make everything that difficult for the rest of my life, aren’t you?” Stiles asks, leaning in to rest his forehead against Peter’s.
“You know you like a challenge,” Peter smirks.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Stiles agrees.
Peter can’t help but feel the same. And who knows, maybe their love is eternal.
After all, Stiles is already his heaven on earth.