Work Text:
Stiles wakes up at noon the day after he gets back into town. When he wanders into the living room, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Peter is waiting for him. “Finally! I thought you were going to sleep forever. Come see your birthday present.”
What? Stiles counts mentally. “Did I sleep for a week?” he asks uncertainly. “Because it shouldn’t be my birthday yet.”
“No, but I had to get it done while you were away,” Peter says impatiently. “Come on.”
Stiles is barely awake, hasn’t even had breakfast yet, but Peter’s impatience is infectious, especially when it comes to presents. Stiles jams bare feet into his shoes and follows Peter down into the complex’s parking garage.
There, Peter leads him to the Jeep and opens the hood. “Have a look.”
Suddenly nervous—what if Peter’s jammed a Ferrari engine or something in there?—Stiles peers into the guts of the beloved vehicle. At first, all he registers is that the twists of wire and duct tape are gone. Then he realizes how much cleaner it looks. Then he realizes that some things that were dented aren’t dented any more. “Is this a whole new engine?”
“Rebuilt, not replaced,” Peter says. “I assumed you’d want to keep as much of the original machine as possible. There are some new parts, when the originals weren’t salvagable. The gear box, transmission, and breaks have also been refurbished, and everything has been inspected. We can do the paint and interior if you want, but I didn’t think I should touch those without asking.”
“Peter, this is—” too much, Stiles was going to say, but Peter is actually starting to look nervous, and he’s added years of life to Stiles’s baby, “—perfect,” Stiles finishes, and launches himself at Peter for a kiss.