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"I love this place!" Stiles enthused, looking around as they sat in a booth. "But how in the world did you find a hole-in-the-wall diner like this?" He reddened. "I mean... it's not how I see you!"
"That is part of getting to know each other," Peter admitted. "You've only seen me at a fancy restaurant--"
"And in bed!" Stiles had to tease.
"Brat!" Peter smiled. "But that's only one side of my life. My position at Hale Industries, and 'fixer' is as good a term as any, has me meeting with people from all walks of life. Being able to blend in is a requirement."
"Too true," Stiles nodded.
"And my 'wolf appreciates well-cooked food, no matter how plain or fancy," Peter went on. "I used to arrange to meet people here but I enjoy the food too much to want to lose access when I have, shall we say, less than savory meetings."
"Ah! That does make sense," Stiles agreed.
The waitress bustled up. "Peter! Long time no see!" she greeted them. "A friend?" she asked boldly, looking at Stiles.
"Yes," Peter said. He held up a hand before she could ask more questions. "Stiles has not met Laura or anyone yet, so please be discrete."
She grinned but ran her hand across her mouth in a 'my lips are sealed' motion. "Oohhh..." She turned to Stiles. "Then very nice to meet you."
"I'm Erica," the waitress said. "We're--" she glanced at Peter, who nodded "--Pack."
"Stiles," Stiles replied. "Good to meet you."
"So, do you know what you want?" Erica asked.
"Coffee, orange juice, the meat lover's omelet, whole wheat toast, and onions in the home fries," Peter rattled off.
Erica turned to Stiles.
"Sounds good, I'll have the same," Stiles nodded.
She took the menus Peter handed to her. "Drinks up in a minute."
"And this is a safe place to fall back to, I assume," Stiles said.
"Exactly," Peter said. "The diner is owned by the family through a corporation. We don't exclusively hire supernaturals but there's always someone who is Pack or Pack-adjacent on duty."
Stiles looked thoughtful. "The diner on West 142nd near Broadway is one of yours, isn't it?"
"What makes you think that?" Peter asked, a touch of surprise in his voice.
Stiles shrugged. "Just a... feeling, I guess. I was meeting with a professor at City College and they took me there. No one specifically pinged as supernatural but there was a... taste in the air, if that makes any sense."
"More or less," Peter admitted. "But, yes, that is another that the corporation runs. It's not as closely held, there's no Pack working there. But it is supernatural friendly."
Stiles nodded, thinking through some of the places he had been in while he had been in New York.
"Make a list and I'll see how close you are," Peter offered. "That's both a good thing for you but a security awareness. It shouldn't be obvious and the wards should keep anyone who shouldn't know from figuring it out."
"That's the sort of thing my professor says all the time. It's mostly a complaint, to be honest," Stiles admitted. "I can do and know things that I shouldn't be able to. So it's not your security or wards, it's a me-thing."
"That makes sense," Peter nodded. "Although we will add that to the list of things we should talk about."
"That's going to be a long list, isn't it?" Stiles grinned.
"I suspect so," Peter replied. "We both have secrets and I'd like us both to trust each other more. My 'wolf likes you but the human side of me barely knows you."
"And, part of my story will be talking about my bad experience with a Pack," Stiles admitted. "So I'm going into this carefully, also."
Erica efficiently brought coffee and orange juice and left a carafe of coffee on the table for them.
"You are a goddess!" Stiles smiled when he saw the extra coffee.
"You, too?" She laughed. "Peter can drink a gallon of coffee by himself." She leaned in, "But I did make sure you got a fresh pot."
"Thank you," Peter smiled.
Erica left them.
"Coffee snob?" Stiles asked. He took a sip of coffee. "Okay, this is good," he admitted.
"I have my vices," Peter admitted.
Stiles had inhaled one cup of coffee and was working on his second when Erica delivered their food.
"Ketchup?" she asked, holding a bottle.
"Yes!" Stiles took the bottle from her. He looked at Peter. "For the home fries!" he defended himself.
"If you must," Peter sighed, shaking his head.
Stiles laughed as he made a puddle of ketchup on the plate.
"Ohhh... this is good!" Stiles moaned as he ate the omelet. He pointed his fork at Peter. "Great choice!"
Peter just grinned as he ate his own food.
Stiles finished everything on his plate and drank three more cups of coffee before he sat back. "Damn, that was good!"
"Is there anything you'd like to do today?" Peter asked.
"In spite of the shower, I'd love some clean clothes," Stiles said. "But I'm in Brooklyn, near Yankee Stadium." He eyed Peter critically. "I have some sweats that would fit, but that doesn't seem like you." He waved a hand at Peter.
"True," Peter nodded. "I will wear sweats and there is something in sharing clothes that is attractive, but I don't think we're quite at that point."
"Agreed," Stiles nodded.
"We can take a cab to my place," Peter suggested. "I can change into something more casual, and then go to your place, to allow you to change."
"The Bronx Museum of the Arts has an exhibit I haven't had a chance to see yet," Stiles suggested. "I'm going to guess we may have different ideas on art but it's always good to support the local museums." A shrug. "But it's walking distance from my place and worth checking out."
"I don't think I've been there," Peter admitted. "So that is a good suggestion."
"And if we haven't gotten tired of each other, we can go back to mine and I'll cook dinner for you," Stiles offered. "It won't be fancy but I'm a decent cook, if I must say so."
"That is a good plan," Peter nodded. "And I'd love a home-cooked meal. That's always a treat."
Stiles smiled broadly.
"Ready?" Peter asked.
Stiles looked around for Erica so they could get the check.
"Oh. Right. There's a tab," Peter said. "I'll get you added to it."
Stiles frowned. "What about something for Erica? She took good care of us."
"Ah. Everyone gets paid a living wage," Peter said. "No relying on tips, although they are accepted."
"I like that," Stiles nodded.
"All of the restaurants owned by the corporation pay good wages," Peter said as they went outside to get a cab.
"I'll bet you don't have any problems finding workers," Stiles commented.
"And we readily hire from the supernatural population," Peter added. "That makes the restaurants even more attractive as an employer."
"Yeah. Understanding about the full moon and hiding from Hunters and whatnot," Stiles nodded. "You guys do good things."
Peter actually blushed. "Not me. Laura and Derek started it. But, well, the food is good."
Stiles laughed. They got into a cab and Peter gave the driver an address on the upper East side. About what would be expected from someone like Peter Hale. Although, now that Stiles took a minute to think about it, Peter likely had a few hidey-holes around the city. It would be fun to try to find them.
The cab hurled through the city and Stiles realized they were close to the river. Peter leaned forward and asked the driver to wait for them to return. He handed over some bills, and the driver nodded eagerly.
"Of course, you can see the East River," Stiles rolled his eyes. They got out of the cab and Stiles looked up. "Five stories, and I'm guessing, a basement?" Stiles asked.
Peter nodded. "Five bedrooms, six bathrooms, an office, and whatnot," he said. "It's technically too large for just me but the family comes by regularly."
"Nice," Stiles replied as they went inside. It was brightly lit with natural light and the furniture was sleek but comfortable looking.
Peter turned to him. "While I'd love to show you around, I need you to stay on this level. If your scent is in my personal space, my 'wolf is going to be unhappy if you aren't here regularly. This level is quasi-public, so it's less of a problem if you stay here."
Stiles nodded. "No wandering around. I get it!"
Peter leaned in for a quick kiss. "I'll be right back."
The first floor was the kitchen and dining room, which opened to a well manicured patio space. The kitchen had gleaming appliances, and the bar stools in front of the breakfast bar were angled just-so, which Stiles interpreted to mean that Peter rarely used them.
Stiles went to stand in front of the doors that opened to the patio. He could see an interesting array of plants and flowers. It wasn't long before he caught a glimpse of Peter in the glass. He turned.
"Nice!" Stiles said, looking Peter over. The sweater looked soft and touchable, and the jeans were painted on.
Peter preened for a moment before saying, "Ready?"
"Sure!"
They got back into the cab and Stiles gave his address. The cabbie grumbled, to himself, about having to go to the Bronx, but took off. It took them close to half an hour to get to Stiles' house.
Peter paid the cabbie and the car took off. Peter looked up at the brownstone four story home they stood in front of.
"How many apartments did they carve out of this?" Peter asked, eyeing the building critically.
"Oh. Umm... we haven't had the money discussion yet," Stiles admitted. "It's nowhere near as fancy as your place, but this is all mine."
Peter turned to face Stiles. "Oh? Really?"
"Hey! I'm not opposed to being a sugar baby, but I've been earning my own way for a long time," Stiles teased. "Okay, the bank still owns a good part of it but, yeah. My place." He waved a hand at the building.
"I'm impressed," Peter admitted.
"Come on," Stiles said, taking Peter's hand. "You'll probably feel the wards but since you're with me, they won't bite."
Stiles saw Peter's eyes widen as they crossed the wards. Stiles' first floor was also the kitchen and dining room but it included a comfortable sitting room.
"I don't have a patio like you do, but I suspect this isn't the bachelor pad you were expecting," Stiles grinned.
"I'll have to admit, this is much nicer than I thought it might be," Peter grinned. "You continue to surprise me. I'm guessing you have more magic than you normally admit to."
"Ding! Ding! Ding!" Stiles laughed. "The fourth floor has been converted to a workshop and I work on commissions for, well, a lot of people."
Peter turned and stared at Stiles. "You're the Spark."
"You're on a roll!" Stiles nodded.
"But... you don't exist!" Peter protested.
Stiles patted his body and shrugged. "Pretty sure I do!"
Peter huffed. "You know what I mean. You're a myth."
"Well, it is easier if no one knows who I really am," Stiles admitted. "The security lets me have a life."
"Like... playing the piano in a high-end bar," Peter said.
"Exactly!" Stiles nodded.
"Go. Change," Peter ordered. "I need time to wrap my head around this." He grabbed Stiles' hand and drew him in for a soft kiss. "This is just... more than I expected."
"Sorry?" Stiles shrugged.
"Go. You promised me a museum visit," Peter said.
"Be right back," Stiles promised. He went up to his bedroom on the third floor and chose a polo shirt and jeans, to be dressed similarly to Peter. His clothes probably didn't cost as much as Peter's but he knew he was respectable.
Stiles clattered down the stairs to find Peter contemplating his kitchen.
"Sniffing out your dinner options?" Stiles teased.
"My kitchen smells sterile compared to this one," Peter replied. "But I rarely eat in. If I don't get delivery, I eat out."
"Good thing you're a 'wolf and your metabolism lets you do that," Stiles said. "But I won't spoil it for you. I'm ready to go."
Peter reached out to take Stiles' hand. "Lead on."