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You'd never had anything against small towns in theory, if anything you'd enjoyed the pace of small town life and had lived the town you'd lived in before, separate from the negative experience of living there. So, you'd chosen to move to another small town, granted Beacon Hills was still bigger than the town you'd lived in before, even if not by much. It was nice, with a happy community, and a healthy number of Supernaturals. You were safer here than you'd been in your home town, and you were glad for it. You'd had a human parent and a Werewolf parent, so when one died and you were left the only Werewolf in town, it was only the bond you had with your remaining parent that kept you sane. Safety was another issue, though. So, you'd made the decision to move. You were too old to be still living at home anyway.
You'd packed up, moved out, crossed the country, and moved into an apartment all your own. It was bigger than you thought you'd be able to get but you weren't going to be mad about that. Property prices in Beacon Hills were way down, and you expected that was a direct result of the Supernatural population in the area.
It was a few days, spent relaxing and settling in, before you started to investigate the local Supernaturals in search of the local Alpha or something similar, to notify them of your presence. That was what you were meant to do, you were pretty sure.
It wasn't the Alpha that you met first, however, no it was an older Werewolf who had approached you in public.
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"Well what do we have here? Hello little Wolf." The man greeted, making you spin on your heel, hackles already raised. If he'd known you were a Werewolf, then you had to assume that he was one as well, or at the very least some other sort of Supernatural. That was better than accidentally revealing yourself to a human.
"I'm new to town." You responded, that was the safest bet. He hadn't really asked a question, not a real one, so you wouldn't give him any more than that.
"I suspected that." As he spoke, for the briefest of seconds, bright blue eyes were revealed to you. A threat, alright. You supposed you couldn't blame him, since you were a foreign Werewolf on the land of another pack. That was good though, that meant there was a Werewolf pack here.
"I've been meaning to introduce myself, but I didn't know where to start." You told the older man, and he nodded. He was in fairly close proximity to you - closer than necessary really - and when you studied him in a beat of silence, you noticed that his face was not as lined as you'd expect based on your initial assessment of his age. He looked older than he actually was - you filed that away for later.
"My name is Peter Hale." He finally said, and the name 'Hale' briefly sparked some far off recognition. That felt like a good thing at least. You introduced yourself in return, and he nodded.
"Oh, he/they pronouns." You added as an afterthought, and while initially Peter seemed confused, his brain seemed to catch up to him. No negative reaction, you'd take that.
Being queer was one of the other issues when it came to living in a small town, but if an older guy didn't bat an eye, it increased your hopes for what it would be like to live and work in Beacon Hills.
"I can get you in contact with the local Alpha, he'll want to introduce himself I'm sure." Peter followed with, and you nodded. That was fine by you, after all, it would be nice to actually be in a pack for the first time in your life.
Peter sent a few texts, then gave you a phone number which you saved under 'Scott McCall'. He was apparently a little younger than you, but he was the Alpha of the territory, and you just accepted it all. You didn't much care who he was, or how young he was, or what his past was like. He was the Alpha, that was what mattered. You looked up from your phone to thank Peter, but he was gone. Weird.
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Scott happily accepted you into the pack, without question or hesitation. He was a good kid, you could tell, and he was even younger than Peter had made it seem like. No matter, you had a pack, finally. That was what you cared about. You would be safe and sane in Beacon Hills.
Peter was not a constant at pack events like you'd been hoping, but his nephew Derek was, and at least he was closer to your age than the rest of the pack. They were a group of teenagers, and you weren't sure how that had managed to happen. You figured it was best not to ask, since Derek and Peter seemed to be the only Hales in the pack, with no other family. You learned about Malia later, but it didn't exactly reframe your thinking.
When Peter did attend pack events though, everyone seemed bothered by his presence. You didn't ask why, you figured that eventually someone would tell you, and you didn't want to ask if it was a sensitive topic. But, Peter seemed happy to talk to you about anything but that topic. He'd waltz in, see you amongst the pack members, and directly approach you, immediately touching you even if only subtly, and would begin to talk about a woman he'd seen at work that day, or the stupid driver that was in front of him on the way to wherever you were. It was nice. He was so normal about you being there, where other pack members still hesitated with you, unsure what to say or how to talk to you. You were a stranger still, you supposed.
Stiles, while still a little suspicious of you, also talked with you animatedly. Though, you suspected he did that anyone he could corner. He was a year older than the rest of the teens, and he was the one who always seemed to let slip about the pack's past. They'd been through a hell of a lot in the last couple of years. They'd even lost some of their friends.
That was when you found out about the Hale fire. And then you found out about what Peter had done, and you couldn't understand their distaste for him. You'd nearly been feral for a long time, and he'd taken justice into his own hands only when the law proved unsuccessful. It left a bad taste in your mouth.
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The next pack event rolled around, and Peter was there. You didn't speak to a single other pack member, instead choosing to sit with Peter and talk to him for the entire duration of the evening. You'd gotten to know him a little better, and the both of you were beginning to settle into a friendly, teasing relationship like you hadn't had before. Every time you had a long conversation with him, he seemed to look younger. Or maybe that was your perception of him changing.
You let go of how they treated Peter, because he seemed generally unaffected by it, or at least he was ignoring it as best as he could. He wanted to be safe and sane, just as you did. You grew closer with different members of the pack, Stiles first, then Lydia, then Parrish who was also closer to you in age, though he was around far less because of his job.
Once, one of the younger pack members had misgendered you by accident. Sure, it hurt, but you weren't going to take it personally. You understood, mostly because you had to. You were on the heavier side, and it didn't help in the chest department. They were hard to hide, but you'd chosen not to wear your binder that day because you were settling in with the pack, and mistakes had been very few and far between, especially since you'd been with them in Beacon Hills for a few months by that point. Peter was far less understanding. He'd turned to the kid, eyes glowing blue and fangs filling his mouth.
"Try again." He'd said softly, and you were sure the temperature in the room had gone down by a few degrees. The kid stuttered out an apology, and corrected himself, and you'd rolled your eyes.
"Okay puppy, put away the claws." You told Peter, slapping him upside the head, which made the entire pack gape. Peter turned his blue eyes on you with a raised brow and a smirk.
"Oh you are walking a fine line." He said, but the way his smirk shifted into a smile assured you that you were safe.
"Sure. Whatever you say." You told him with a laugh, shoving him gently, then turned to the kid to assure him that it was okay, and you understood it was an accident.
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Peter had started popping up in your daily life after that. At first, you'd been working remotely to finish your time at your old job, but you'd known that you wanted to try something new after that. You hadn't had internet in your apartment for a week or two, so had gone to the library for that sweet sweet free internet, and found out that Peter worked there. Even after your internet was installed, you went to do your work there at least once a week, to keep things interesting. Then Peter started turning up at your apartment with lunch during his break, which was when you discovered that you lived in the same apartment building.
After you finally left that job, you started at a new place, with entirely remote working. That appealed, since you were less likely to face issues with your gender when you never see your co-workers face to face, and it meant no travelling to an office. Wins across the board. That did also mean Peter could continue to show up at your place. You unlocked the door each morning after you woke up now, so he could let himself in whenever he showed up, which was increasing in frequency.
Your relationship with him was friendly, with lots of playful irritating and teasing done between the two of you. You couldn't complain really, you had a good time with him, and Peter made you feel not just welcome but at home in Beacon Hills.
"Yoohoo, room service!" Peter called out as he let himself into your apartment, and you just continued to type away on your laptop, focused on the task at hand. He dropped onto the sofa beside you and slipped your laptop off your lap, replacing it with a plate where he'd put the food he'd gotten for you.
"I was doing something." You told him with a raised eyebrow, attempting to reach for your laptop again.
"And now you're eating lunch with your dear friend Peter." He replied without a beat, using his foot to push your laptop even further from your reach. You looked at him for a long minute, gaze hard, while he remained unphased. Begrudgingly, you began eating the food that he'd provided. Peter had a lot more money than you ever would, and he happily spent it on buying lunch for the two of you, so you rarely argued about it with him, otherwise it'd be instant noodles for you.
You ate in mostly silence, save for the music that you'd already had playing in the background while you worked. You didn't mind being in silence with Peter. It was never awkward or stilted, never uncomfortable. Nothing ever seemed to be uncomfortable with Peter. Once you'd finished, Peter took your plate, apparently also being done and took them away to wash while you resumed your work. He was quite a domestic man, deep down. You wondered how much of that was because of his prior role in his pack, and what he'd lost. Whether he craved that familiarity, to be needed again. You never asked.
Once he was done, he dropped dramatically back onto the sofa, and shuffled his feet into your lap, regardless of how he blocked your screen and prevented you from typing. You looked at him, expression flat and slow blinked while he didn't so much as look up at you.
"Oh, do I annoy you?" Peter asked after a moment, still not looking up from where he was scrolling on his phone.
"No more than usual." You replied, refusing to give him the satisfaction. That, however, made him move his phone and slap a hand to his chest.
"You wound me, dear." He said, though he was grinning. It was nice, to have such easy friendship with someone. With one hand you lifted your laptop and with the other shoved his feet out of your lap, then turned to also sit long ways, with your feet coming to his shoulders. You returned your laptop to your lap, and continued to work. Apparently, Peter didn't have work today, since he remained for the rest of the afternoon.
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The next time there was a pack event, it was more of a meeting. Apparently something was harming hikers in the preserve, and it was likely to be Supernatural. You mumbled to Peter, asking why people were even allowed in the preserve anymore when so much bad stuff happens there, and he just snickered. Scott glared in his direction, but you both ignored it.
It was, apparently, the job of this gaggle of teenagers to deal with this problem. You'd quite like for it to not be your problem, but here you were, because in no world would you let them go out there alone to attempt to deal with this. You let Peter go off to tend to another group of the teens, while you escorted another, spreading out the more experienced pack members for better safety. You walked beside Stiles, assigned to him in particular in your group, since he was the human and you couldn't say that you minded.
You weren't able to wear your binder, since this was likely to include running, so a sports bra would have to be suitable beneath your largest shirt, which hardly managed to be considered oversized. It was fine, though, you trusted the pack enough to know they wouldn't comment or intentionally say anything impolite. The discomfort however remained on the back of your mind, and it made you distracted. You heard a very human yell before Liam was shot, and you flew into action, roaring loudly and shifting into your beta shift, chasing after one of the hunters that had approached your group. Stiles, as much as he wanted to step into the fray, remained back with a lighter that he was taking to Liam's wound. Fucking wolfsbane, these assholes.
"You didn't even know he was a damn wolf! He's just a kid!" You yelled, swinging out to drag your claws down the chest of one of the hunters. More gunshots rang out in the distance, and some more roaring and howling could be heard, the sound of the others being found no doubt.
"No, but we know you are." A hunter said from behind you, and you ducked instinctively, trusting your senses to carry you through the encounter. The hunter ended up shooting his buddy, and you tackled him to the ground, ripping out his throat. You kicked their guns as far away from them as you could, toward Stiles if you could manage it, to help with wound treating. Derek's full shift entered the clearing you were fighting in, and pounced on another hunter.
Once they were all down, and not getting up again any time soon, Derek returned to his human form and turned to face you.
"It's Peter."
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You didn't need to know anything else, you took off running in the direction that Derek had come from, using your nose to guide you toward the smell of blood and flames. You could hear snarling, and human-like yelling, though it was slurred as if said around fangs. You finally found them, almost colliding with Lydia, and found Peter on the ground bleeding sluggishly in at least three places.
"You idiot!" You scolded, falling down onto your knees to be closer to his large body, looking at each of the wounds.
"He won't let us burn the wolfsbane out." Scott explained, frowning down at Peter's bleeding body.
"Of course not, the last time you came near him with an open flame, you killed him. Give me the lighter." You snapped. Later, you'd feel bad for being so harsh with him, and you'd probably apologise but right now there was wolfsbane pumping through Peter's body and you needed to stop it.
You let the flame burn and took an opened bullet from Scott's hand.
"Come on puppy, it's just a scratch. Let me patch you up." You teased, and Peter growled lowly at you. "Yeah you don't scare me, you softie. If you hurt me though, I'll let you die." That made the growling quieten and then subside, which you took as permission. You ripped a strip of fabric from his bloodied shirt and shoved it in his mouth, then began to burn the wolfsbane from his body. His screams were haunting, and you wondered if in that moment Scott felt any guilt for what he'd done in the past. Likely not, considering what you'd seen of their dynamic. Between each wound, you paused and wiped the sweat from Peter's forehead, soothing him softly. Nobody dared to stop you, or interrupt.
It took nearly half an hour of burning, soothing, and soft praise to get the wolfsbane from Peter's system. He lay on the preserve ground, amongst the mud, twitching and panting, covered in a thin layer of sweat sheening in the moonlight - he'd never looked so young. You shifted his head to rest in your lap, gently combing your fingers through his hair. Peter didn't talk about what he went through, about his various traumas, but you knew enough. What had happened there was enough for you to know more. He'd cried, but you'd wiped his tears with his sweat so nobody would notice, and he was still twitching, like he was expecting more or could still feel flames licking at his skin.
"I've got you, you're alright." You murmured to him, letting him rest until the twitching subsided, and his breathing slowed back to a normal rate rather than its previous slightly heightened rate.
"You're comfortable." He mumbled, his first words since you'd arrived, and you could only laugh.
"Small bonus of the extra fat." You replied. You'd stay here as long as he needed, until he felt ready to get up, and go home. You'd escort him the entire way.
Derek reappeared with Liam and Stiles a little while later, flanked by some other pack members, and you smiled at him, then gave Liam and Stiles a little thumbs up. Peter didn't move.
"You're not dead right?" Derek asked his uncle, and Peter grunted.
"Won't get rid of me that easily nephew." He replied, and that seemed to be the jumpstart he needed to start pushing himself up into a sitting position. You remained close by, helping whenever he looked unsteady, and he didn't stop you. You walked him all the way to Derek's car, with Derek on his other side. The of 'what the fuck just happened' was an issue for another day.
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Peter, while physically okay and fully healed, was still shaken when you got to the door of his apartment. In a moment of impulsivity, you wrapped your arm around him and guided him away from his door and back to the elevator where you pressed the button for your own floor. Peter remained silent, a testament to his struggle. You marched him to your own door and unlocked it, turning on all the lights as you got inside.
"I don't have a spare bed, but you can have mine while I sleep in here. The sofa is comfortable enough for me." You told him, guiding him toward your room.
"No, don't be ridiculous, I'll sleep on the sof-"
"No. Peter, you're sleeping in the bed. And I'm not getting in with you, before you start with your bullshit. Get into bed, get comfortable, and sleep for as long as you need. If your boss calls, I'll answer, and explain that you're sick." You insisted, slipping his phone from his back pocket to take it for yourself. You were firm, and Peter was exhausted, he couldn't find it in himself to argue. Besides, it felt good to be taken care of sometimes.
You made sure he seemed to be resigned to getting into bed before leaving and closing the door behind yourself, setting his phone to loud alongside your own so your alarm would definitely wake you up in the morning despite your exhaustion. You grabbed a nightshirt from where it'd been drying and stripped down, changing into that and some cycle shorts so you could sleep comfortably, then dropped onto the sofa. You pulled the blanket from the back to cover yourself, and fell asleep almost immediately.
Peter's boss did call, but thankfully it was after your alarm. You explained that he was sick with some food poisoning, as you'd gone out for a group meal the night before, and he'd been in no state to call in ahead and you were very sorry but thought he'd be able to be in for his next shift without issue. His boss thanked you, and you were glad he'd accepted the explanation.
Peter himself didn't wake up until after midday, and found that you'd prepared a hot meal for the two of you, which was in the oven keeping warm until he woke. A nice stew, something you mother used to make, very meat heavy. He couldn't complain.
Peter got himself a bowl of it at your instruction, and instead of coming to sit beside you like he usually did, he hesitated in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. You didn't initially realise that he was just standing there like an idiot, but when you did you looked up and found him staring at you openly.
"See something you like?" You joked with a scoff, going back to your own bowl and the video you were looking at your phone.
"Yes, actually. You're stunning." Peter replied, and the bare honesty in his voice almost made you drop the spoon that was half way to your mouth. Sure, Peter had never been cruel, but he'd never been so blatantly flirtatious or quite so kind.
"What?" You rasped, looking up at him from the corner of your eyes with raised brows and wide eyes. Peter didn't repeat himself, nor clarify, he just stood leaning against the doorframe, looking at you. You felt like you were naked, like he was seeing you in your entirety and you were sure it was the first time someone had ever done that.
Eventually, he stepped away and came to sit beside you, eating his stew. You continued scrolling on your phone and he picked up his own, responding to the one concerned text that he had from Derek to confirm that he was just fine. You resolutely didn't look at him, nor did you speak. You remained sitting there, beside each other, not quite awkward but almost tense, in complete silence while you did your own things. You moved only when Peter had finished his bowl, and took his along with your own to the kitchen to clean them. It was better than sitting there in that moment.
Peter followed you however.
You hadn't realised that he'd done it until you were done with the dishes, and stepped away from the sink, only to be pushed backward into a countertop by hands on your hips. Peter pinned you there, looking at you like a man starved, and your skin crawled. You were not used to anyone looking at you like that.
"I meant it, you know." He said to break the thick silence between you, and you could only swallow, entirely lost for words. Peter's hands grabbed gently at your body, hesitantly exploring, unwilling to cause you upset or discomfort. He was so close, so much closer than he'd ever been, every inch of your space was also his space. But you didn't want him to move, or stop.
There was no denying that Peter was an attractive guy, you'd known it since the moment you'd seen him, but you'd not thought about it since that. He was so attractive, why would he want someone like you? He could have whoever he wanted, and you were pretty sure he wanted a man with a dick. You had never dared to push your luck, because your friendship with him was important to you, far more important than whatever 'maybe's that your brain managed to conjure.
Yet here you were.
"I don't know what to say." You finally managed.
"Say that I can kiss you."
"Peter- I think you're still suffering from the wolfsbane, you don't want me."
"I do. I've wanted you for weeks. Tell me why you think I don't, and I will ease away your every concern." You couldn't really believe it. Peter? Wanting you? He was so willing to listen, to tell you just why he did want you, and you couldn't stop yourself.
"Look at me."
"Like I said, stunning."
"I have tits."
"The only thing wrong with that is that it seems like you don't want them."
"I don't have a dick."
"I have enough for both of us."
"I'm fat."
"All the more of you to ravish."
"Clothes don't fit."
"I'll get them tailored for you."
"You should be with someone more attractive."
"I want you, not them."
"You won't even be able to lif-" Peter didn't respond to that one verbally, instead he hoisted you up onto the countertop and stepped between your legs, leaning in close to you again.
"Anything else?" He asked, breath fanning over your face.
"Kiss me."
And kiss you he did. It was passionate, made you heady and you couldn't stop yourself from wrapping your arms and legs around him. He was passionate, needy, but not sexual, he never touched you anywhere in appropriate, with one hand on your hip and the other resting between your shoulder blades. He wasn't quite gentle, but still the kiss was sweet.
"Tell me you'll let me do that again." He said when you finally parted, and you could only nod, this time initiating the kiss yourself.