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Stiles watched incredulously as Peter strode into the small restaurant. They were a town over from Beacon Hills to check out a minor supernatural disturbance, and Peter had waved a hand at Stiles dismissively when asked what their dinner plans were, only saying vaguely that they’d find a place.
Apparently the place they found was the one where Derek and Braeden were having a date. A date that had probably been quite romantic before Peter interrupted it.
Stiles scrambled inside and then up to the table when he realized that Peter was talking to the couple now. This was something he couldn’t miss.
“ - you’re here.” Peter was saying. “We’ll need your help this evening to deal with the threat we identified.”
“Tonight?” Derek scowled at his uncle, obviously reluctant.
“Peter,” Stiles felt no guilt butting in. At this point everyone should expect it. “It could really wait until tomorrow. Or to be honest, you and I could deal with it without a third person. We don’t need to ruin Derek and Braeden’s evening.”
Peter sniffed. “Aren’t you always telling me to be more cautious and careful with my health and well-being? Well, having Derek as back-up is me listening to you. Here I thought you’d appreciate it.”
Stiles’ jaw dropped in outrage. Having his own words used against him! The audacity. Still, Derek nodded in reluctant agreement.
“Sorry,” he said to Braeden. She sighed but waved her hand at him. “You might as well go ahead now,” she said. Derek ducked to give her a quick kiss (blushing fiercely) and they were off.
As Stiles predicted, they definitely could have handled the situation without Derek. But the whole situation was gone from Stiles’ mind as soon as they got back to Beacon Hills, the task was relatively simple compared to so many of the monsters of the week and was barely a blip in his memory after a week.
—
If that had been the only time, Stiles wouldn’t have noticed.
But then about a few weeks later, Peter was in charge of pack movie night. Erica had picked a rom-com that was more romance than comedy, and from the looks the other wolves started to give them, she and Boyd were getting more interested in each other than the movie.
From his place in his armchair (which Stiles insisted on calling his throne), Peter grabbed the remote and abruptly turned the movie off.
“This is trash,” he declared loudly over a few cries of indignation. “I refuse to waste a single other second of my life watching it.”
Stiles squinted at him. “You love watching trashy movies and tearing them apart. It also gives you an opportunity to mock us, which is like, your third favorite hobby after murder and manipulating people.”
Peter glared at him. “Well, not today. We’re going to watch something with cultural significance, and you heathens are going to enjoy it.” He switched to something so quickly that it started before anyone could catch the title. It only took a minute, though, before -
“Really, dude? The Seventh Seal?”
“It’s a classic, Stiles.”
“Oookay then.”
—
Stiles is a big believer in the “three times is a pattern” rule, so when he got a call from an annoyed Scott he decided it was time to get involved.
“It’s our night, Stiles!” Scott complained in his ear. “You know it, he knows it, the whole pack knows it!”
Stiles made a sympathetic noise as he locked the front door behind him.
“Tuesday nights are me and Kira’s date nights, every week! It’s the only night my mom is never home and we don’t have things planned, and as far as I can tell monsters seem to have an aversion to Tuesdays because we never seem to even have supernatural emergencies then. But no! Peter had to take Mom and your dad and Parrish out to dinner to discuss important supernatural updates,” Stiles could almost hear the air quotes there. “I know he didn’t do it on purpose - “
Stiles snorts to himself, quietly enough that Scott couldn’t hear it over his ranting.
“ - but Mom took off work and then they all came back to the house, and Stiles, Kira and I weren’t able to make love and she’s very important to me and - “
Stiles almost choked on the laugh he held back then. Scott McCall was possibly the only guy he had ever heard unironically refer to having sex as making love.
“Okay, buddy, I got it. I’m sorry your night was ruined, that sucks. Look, it’ll all be fine, we’ll make sure of it. How about Peter and I take your patrol shift Friday night? Your mom is working and I think Kira is free, so you two can have a make-up date night.”
By the time he convinced Scott that he’s okay with it, and that he’ll handle Peter’s irritation at having his carefully crafted patrol schedule disrupted, Stiles was almost at the pack house. He hung up in the middle of Scott’s enthusiastic expressions of gratitude and headed straight to Peter’s office.
Peter was sitting at his desk phone in hand having some kind of business discussion, probably with someone important. Stiles didn’t bother to listen as he marched up and took the phone from Peter, hanging up and putting it in his back pocket. Peter stared at him in disbelief, apparently so astonished that he couldn’t stop Stiles in time.
“Peter. Why are you cockblocking our pack members?”
Peter’s surprise immediately shifted to haughty condescension. “I have no idea what you mean, Stiles.”
Stiles narrowed his eyes at the older werewolf in annoyance. “Oh yes you do!” He started ticking things off on his fingers. “You ruined Derek and Braeden’s date night even though she was only briefly in town, and no, don’t give me that bullshit about wanting backup. You interrupted Erica and Boyd canoodling by putting on one of the least sexy movies of all time - “
“ - canoodling, Stiles, really?”
“ - hush you, I’m not done yet. You made sure Melissa came home on Tuesday so that Scott and Kira got interrupted. You - “ Stiles gasped in astonished betrayal. “Peter! Did you mess with the fire alarm system at the Jungle the night that Danny, Ethan, and I went dancing? The sprinklers ruined Lady Divine’s favorite dress! How could you!”
At this Peter looked a little uncomfortable. “Ah, well, I only know a little about that incident, and I’m very sure that the queens received exceptional tips that night, as recompense for - “
Stiles squawked in outrage.
“ - the inconvenience,” Peter finished a bit weakly. Possibly because Stiles had stabbed his finger into his face.
“Peter Ian Hale, explain yourself!”
Peter sighed. Now that Stiles knew there was something he didn’t know, there was no way he would let it go. And really, he probably owed Stiles an explanation, even though he’d never live it down. It was just, falling victim to his instincts when he didn't mean to was somewhat...discomfiting.
“It’s a wolf thing.”
Stiles raised his eyebrows. “And? You gonna give me more than that?”
Peter shifted in his chair uneasily. “It’s late winter to early spring, and some werewolf instincts are stronger than others at different times of the year.”
Peter could practically see Stiles’ brain whirring, a thoughtful frown clearing to an expression of disbelief.
“Late winter to early spring? Like…mating season? Mating instincts?” There must have been some kind of confirmation in Peter’s expression, because once Stiles knew he was on the right track the disbelief gradually shifted to dawning understanding.
“Mating instincts. You are, literally, cockblocking the rest of the pack like an actual fucking alpha wolf, because only the alpha pair is allowed to mate. Oh my god - oh my god, Peter - “ laughter bubbled up uncontrollably in Stiles’ voice.
“I can’t help it sometimes,” Peter said irritably. “And sometimes I don’t even realize what I’m doing until afterwards.”
“Oh no,” Stiles choked out, “do you need, like, a chaperone? This kind of mating season chaperone is nothing like porn has led me to believe, but - “ Peter growled at him, which only set off more peals of laughter.
Peter sat in his desk chair fuming (and a little begrudgingly amused) as Stiles finally, after almost ten minutes, got himself under control.
“Come on, sulkywolf,” he said, wiping the tears from his cheeks with a hiccup. “You have to admit it’s a little funny.”
“I have to do no such thing.”
Stiles grinned at him, then winced. “Ow, oh my god, I laughed so hard that my face hurts,”
“I suppose it’s too much to hope that you’ll stop talking, then.” Peter huffed.
Stiles just smirked at that. “Yeah, not a chance. But listen, hey, now that I know, do you want me to stop you?”
“Stop me?”
“Yeah, like, if you’re doing the thing and don’t notice, can you listen to me if I tell you to not do the thing?”
“I suppose,” Peter conceded grudgingly.
“And let’s be honest, having a pack of teenagers and young adults is way easier when they’re having sex on a regular basis. The pheromones were so thick at the last meeting that even I could practically smell them, and I honestly thought Derek might pass out from holding his breath.”
“Yes, alright, fine.”
—
Stiles is right, of course. The pack is easier to manage without meetings being fifty percent unresolved sexual tension. And he notices when Peter is about to interfere with the betas’ relationships, and gently steers Peter away.
Although, Peter is right, too. Stiles never, ever lets him forget about it.