Work Text:
Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf || Steter || Workaholic Werewolf || Steter || Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf
Title: Workaholic Werewolf – Drastic Measures and Big Guns
TW Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Jeff Davis and MTV. This fanfiction on the other hand is entirely mine. No money is made with this, though reviews are more than welcomed.
Tags: m/m, established relationship, No Hale Fire, Spark Stiles, fluff, comfort, past mpreg
Main Pairing: Peter/Stiles
Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Sheriff Noah Stilinski
Original Characters: James Stilinski Hale, Rowan Stilinski Hale, Kasia 'Kassie' Stilinski Hale
Summary: Stiles' wolf was a total workaholic. Sometimes, Stiles had to take drastic measures and get out the big guns to make his husband take a break.
Workaholic Werewolf
Drastic Measures and Big Guns
Stiles paused in the middle of stirring. He blinked slowly as he peered down into the pot. This was… decidedly too much food for one person. Or two people. He really wasn't used to cooking just for himself anymore and while a portion of leftovers might be appreciated by his husband later on, this was decidedly too much food. Still stirring with one hand, he dialed with his other.
"Stiles," a familiar voice said warmly. "What can I do for you?"
"Heya, Tali. Might be more of a 'what can I do for you' situation," Stiles grinned. "So, uh, might have cooked a bit too much. I was thinking maybe when you drop Peter off, you could just come upstairs quickly, I'll give you a container of delicious Gulasz Wołowy to take home with you…? I know Damon loves it so I would actually be doing you a favor there."
"I'd never say no to your goulash, Stiles. Selfishly, not just for my husband," Talia chuckled amused. "I'm just a little confused as to why I would be dropping Peter off…?"
Slowly, Stiles stopped stirring. "Because you are doing some sibling bonding shopping trip…?"
The silence on the other end was impossibly telling. "I'm sorry. We're not. I'm still in the office."
More silence stretched on as Stiles pulled the spoon out of the stew and put it on the cutting board next to it. "Oh. You're… not? That… Huh."
"I'm sure there is a good explanation for this, perhaps you got the days mixed up?" Talia offered.
"Yeah, no, I didn't," Stiles stared over at their calendar. "That… only leaves one possibility."
"You know my brother would never cheat on you," Stiles was startled by Talia's declaration.
"Huh?" Stiles blinked doe-eyed, very startled. "Oh, I can see how that might be some people's only possible conclusion. No. Not even… No. For one, Peter knows I would cut off his balls, feed them to him and then set him on fire if he ever even considered that. Which he never would, because that man worships the damn ground I walk on, Tali."
Talia chuckled softly at that. "He really does. So, wait, what is the only possibility then…?"
"The bastard is still at work," Stiles glowered. "He's been overworking himself so much, I've been forcing him to take a couple steps back. He promised he did so. Now I am starting to think that he lied about the relaxing fun activities he's been doing lately so he could sneak more work."
There was a beat of silence and a heavy sigh. "That does sound like my brother, yes. What do you plan to do about it? I know you Stiles, you probably already have an evil scheme."
"Evil," Stiles yelped offended, pressing a hand to his chest. "Me? What an accusation."
"Stiles," it was fascinating how Talia could say his name with the exact same fond exasperation that bordered on annoyance as Derek, he really was his mother's son.
"Oh, this calls for drastic measures," Stiles' grin was foreboding. "I'll have to get out the big guns for this, but I will make Peter regret and give on."
"I fear for my brother," Talia sounded proud. "I'll see you both Sunday for family dinner. Damon is making gumbo, please be kind to… whatever that will be. Mother promised cherry pie."
"Looking forward to the cherry pie, will be skeptical about Dae's first attempt at gumbo," Stiles snickered amused. "I'll see you on Sunday, Tali. Bye."
He hung up, turned off the stove, put the lid on the pot and took off his apron. Time for drastic measures indeed. Stiles would have to get the big guns out for this one.
/break\
Noah never thought that retirement would be for him. He'd thought he would work far past retirement and even then they would have to pry him out of that sheriff station. Granted, Sheriff Parrish would most likely voice that Noah did spend too much time at the station, but that was neither here nor there. Noah enjoyed retirement, he loved it. And he knew he had Stiles to thank for that. Who would have thought that boy's magic would ever create something as impossible and as perfect as the three grandkids sitting in his living room right now?
"Granpa!" Kassie yelped. "I drew a you!"
Snoring fondly, Noah got up and walked over to her. His granddaughters, Kassie and Rowan, were two years old and twins and the most precious things Noah could imagine. Kassie stared up at him with Stiles' big doe-eyes, her button nose scrunched up as she smiled proudly. Kneeling down behind her, he looked at the very colorful drawing.
"That's amazing, kiddo," Noah ruffled her hair. "Can you draw yourself and your siblings too?"
"Uhu," Kassie nodded wildly, making her pigtails bob.
Sitting down more comfortably, Noah turned to check on Kassie's twin. Rowan had Stiles' moles but Peter's ice-blue eyes. Sometimes, they were so sharp, it startled Noah. Like this two year old kid could read him for filth. He knew that was mostly a trauma response after having dealt with Peter in court for years. Why his son had to marry a lawyer, of all people, was beyond Noah. The werewolf part, Noah had managed to accept. The lawyer part, not so much. Rowan blinked up at her grandpa when she noticed that she was being watched. She was playing tea party with her stuffed toys – a bear, a fox, an owl and, of course, a wolf.
"Tea?" Rowan offered timidly, holding up a cup for Noah.
"Why thank you," Noah smiled and accepted the small plastic tea-cup, blowing on it before slowly pretending to take a sip, just to pause at how quiet it was. "...Where is your brother?"
Rowan and Kassie exchanged a look and a giggle. Oh, that wasn't good. Putting the tea-cup down, Noah scrambled up to find Mischief Junior. Jamie was like a carbon-copy of Stiles, which had been cute when he was very little and it was just optics. It wasn't just optics. The boy was incredibly good at getting into trouble and he loved playing pranks.
"James Stilinski Hale, you get down from there right now, or I swear-"
Noah stood frozen in the kitchen, seeing his six year old grandson on top of the cupboards. He had no idea how the boy had even managed to climb up there. The doors to the cupboards were open, the drawers pulled out… He'd used the drawers like stairs up to the counter and then climbed though the open cupboards. Closing his eyes, Noah tried to take a deep breath.
"Eat no red meat, dad, don't eat refined sugar, these things aren't good for your heart," Noah muttered in a mockery of his son's voice. "All of that and then that boy gives me a heart-attack provoking grandchild. Maybe put less nonsense in your kid's head, Stiles, maybe that would be good for my heart, have you considered my health in all of this, kiddo?"
While muttering to himself, he pushed a chair against the counter and climbed on top of it so he could reach the top of the cupboards. Jamie just blinked down at him like a cat stuck in a tree while… munching the cookies that Noah kid in the highest cupboard, inside the big, old bowl he never used, so Stiles wouldn't find them.
"C'mere, kiddo," Noah carefully held out his arms. "Lemme help you down."
Jamie wrapped his arms around Noah's neck as soon as he was within reach. "Thank you, grandpa. I… didn't know how to get down again. But issokay. I had enough cookies, I woulda survived."
Noah snorted and pressed a kiss to the boy's cheek. "Right. How about you and I make a deal?"
Jamie's golden-brown eyes lit up at that. "Like dad?"
Noah winced at that, because no, not a deal like a lawyer would. "Sure. So, the deal is: I won't tell your parents that you climbed on top of the cupboard. If you don't tell them about the cookies."
Jamie wiggled his nose thoughtfully and took another bite from his cookie, before nodding. "Okay."
Sighing relieved, Noah ruffled the boy's hair. As much as Noah absolutely adored his grandchildren and leaped at every chance to babysit them, they did tend to age him a couple years. First time Rowan had scratched up the couch with her claws, Noah thought he was going to die. He'd panic-called Talia, since Peter and Stiles had been on a well-deserved weekend-trip together. It had been the very first time Rowan had shown her werewolf nature. Auntie Talia had, of course, been incredibly proud. Grandpa Noah had needed a cookie.
"Mommy, mommy, mommy!"
As soon as Jamie heard his sisters' excited exclamation did he tear free from Noah's grasp to run into the living room. Grandpa was all fun and cool until mom showed up. Huffing amused and not the least bit offended, Noah followed his grandson into the living room, where Stiles was already on the ground, sprawled out and with both girls snuggled close.
"You're early," Noah commented. "Didn't you say something about a 'self-care' day? Bubble bath, a good book and no screeching, screaming little monsters?"
"Hey," Kassie and Rowan yelped at once, turning to glare at Noah.
"But these are my favorite screeching, screaming little monsters," Stiles grinned and kissed both girls' cheeks. "And yeah, that was the plan. Plan's changed though."
Noah's brows immediately furrowed at that. "Trouble?"
In Beacon Hills, the answer usually was trouble. Stiles huffed and sat up, getting hugged by Jamie.
"Not that kind of trouble. A certain someone is in trouble though," the look on Stiles' face made Noah worry for whoever that someone was. "Anyway, I bring you a container of food. It should be enough for you and Chris. Honestly, it'd be enough for you and Christ to invite Ally and her family for dinner. I, uh, went a little overboard on the cooking."
"That's them Polish genes," Noah nodded solemnly. "Your mother was never able to cook for less than a small army. Unlike her, you at least have werewolves in your life."
A crooked grin spread over Stiles' lips at that. "Very true. Anyway, the aforementioned trouble? I will have to borrow the little mogwais for it."
Ah. So Peter was the one in trouble. Well, it had been nice knowing the wolf.
"Sure, go ahead and steal my grandchildren," Noah sighed.
"Don't make it sound like you're a lonely, sad old man," Stiles huffed and elbowed his dad. "I know you and Chris can enjoy a peaceful evening in too. And if you're desperate for grandkids, I could call Ally and tell her you're free to babysit her gremlins."
"No," Noah's voice croaked and he cleared his throat. "No, I think I'm good. Dealing with these three was enough for one evening, I'm not sure I could handle Fletcher and Arian right now."
Like Rowan, Fletcher was a born wolf. Unlike Rowan, Fletcher was using his werewolf abilities for evil (stealing cookies, climbing places he wasn't supposed to go… Noah started to think that maybe Jamie and Fletcher should spend less time together. But then these two were just as inseparable as Scott and Stiles. Only that the claws and fangs came more than ten years earlier in this case).
"Awesome," Stiles grinned and gave Noah a hug. "Also, please note my self-restraint to not comment on the cookie crumbles on your shirt, dad."
Noah made a noise. "These aren't even from me! They're from Jamie!"
"And where would Jamie have gotten cookies?" Stiles asked, eyebrows raised.
"Cupboard," Jamie offered helpfully.
"Traitor," Noah whispered with narrowed eyes.
Stiles snorted and herded his kids outside and toward the Jeep. Noah heaved a sigh and slumped against the window as he saw them drive off. As much as he adored his grandkids, maybe a nice, calm evening in with his own husband would be nice too. Now he just needed to get Chris home.
/break\
Werewolves couldn't get headaches, but if Peter had to read one more page of this horribly written report, he was going to be the first werewolf with a headache. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to breath deeply. He just had to get through this one last report and then he could finally call it a night and head back home. He could practically feel the forming headache melt away as he thought of home and his husband.
He knew Stiles had an important date with their large bath-tub and that journal from a Spark from 14th century Germany that Peter had bought him last month. The thought of Stiles, soft and relaxed in the tub, just reading and doing some well-deserved self-care immediately relaxed Peter.
His beautiful, powerful and amazing husband always worked far too hard. If he wasn't working as the school's librarian or taking care of their three kids or helping out the sheriff station, he was doing research for the Hale Packs – Talia's pack, the pack of Peter's family that Peter had left behind when he formed his own Hale Pack, after a rogue Alpha rampaged through their town (a tragedy that had, ultimately, been a blessing because it had brought Stiles into Peter's life, had blessed Peter with an Alpha spark and with a ragtag group of betas of his own in Erica, Boyd, Isaac, Jackson and Scott, all the kids turned by the rogue Alpha before he'd met his demise at Peter's claws). It was one of the things Peter loved about his husband. His dedication and hard work, his clever mind that could always figure everything out and had saved them all so often.
The pleasant, warm feeling was replaced with guilt. He hated lying to his husband. He adored Stiles far too much for that, would love to spend every waking moment with Stiles (and every sleeping moment; at this point in his life, Peter knew for a fact that he could not sleep if he didn't have his mate pressed against himself). However, his fussy, caring and very demanding husband thought that Peter was working too hard and had demanded that Peter take it slower. He couldn't just put this case aside and go home like this wasn't the most important case in his career.
He'd tried, he really had, but even at home playing dolls with Kassie and Rowan, all he could think about was the case. So Peter found a loophole. Just some white lies about taking 'me time' that he then channeled into working on the case. It'd soon be over and then he wouldn't have to lie and he would be able to relax. Surely Stiles would understand.
"Hands up! You're under arrest!"
Peter startled violently, torn out of his drifting thoughts by the voice. He blinked, staring directly at a shiny, fake sheriff star, being held into Peter's face by his son. Jamie offered a toothy grin.
"Mom says you have broken rules and I can arrest you," Jamie declared.
Oh. Oh boy. Stiles knew. And Stiles hadn't come alone. No, Stiles had brought… Peter stared as their daughters climbed up onto his lap and attached themselves to his neck. Peter was in serious trouble. Stiles had gotten out the big guns, also known as the little princesses.
"Hello, my little flowers," Peter smiled and peppered both girls' faces with kisses.
Kassie and Rowan giggled and squirmed, always claiming that Peter's beard tickled which, of course, only made him give them even more kisses. Jamie all the while climbed onto the desk so he could sit right in front of his dad, on top of Peter's case files, his feet on Peter's knees.
"Hello, Mischief," Peter smiled at his son and ruffled Jamie's hair.
"You gonna come willing or do I have to use force?" Stiles asked unimpressed from the door.
Peter winced, even more so when he saw the sharp, unamused look on his mate's face. Ducking his head and nodding, Peter put the girls down and then picked Jamie off the desk, before herding all three kids over to Stiles. As soon as his beautiful mate was within reach did Peter wrap his arms around Stiles' waist so he could pull the Spark in for a kiss.
"Hello, love of my life," Peter whispered. "You look positively stunning."
"I look," Stiles glared. "Like I should be in a relaxing bubble bath right now, while you should be criticizing Talia's choice in clothing. Instead, we are both here. And you will regret that."
"Yes, dear," Peter winced again, then pressed another kiss to Stiles' lips before leaning in to whisper into his ear. "And if I still make the night end in a relaxing bubble bath…? Together?"
"Mh," Stiles tilted his head intrigued. "It would be a… start."
"Followed by a massage," Peter quickly tagged on. "I know you, Erica and Fiona did a lot of running yesterday, chasing that witch. I'm sure your legs could use a nice massage."
A small, pleased smile spread over Stiles' lips as he wrapped his arms around Peter's neck. "Mister Stilinski Hale, you are very good at these negotiations."
Peter turned a little more serious. "I am sorry about lying to you, darling. I shouldn't have."
Heaving a sigh, Stiles tilted his head forward and rested his forehead against Peter's shoulder. "Not like I have never lied to you before either. Hidden injuries, dangerous spell-work. You and me, we're the same, Peter. When we sink our teeth into something, we can't really let it go. And we've both hit resistance in each other trying to convince the other to let it go."
Peter pursed his lips and nosed Stiles' cheek. That one time Stiles had claimed he'd gone on a fun bro road-trip with Kira that had in reality been them hunting down spells to enable Stiles to use the Nogitsune remands left behind. At least Peter's lies only found him boringly sitting at his desk, reading mind-numbing case files, instead of some ancient shrine in Kyoto battling oni.
"I adore you, darling," Peter whispered, kissing along Stiles' jawline.
"I am aware of that," Stiles chuckled, his fingers carding through Peter's hair. "After this case, you're taking two weeks off and you are taking me and our children to – where do we wanna go?"
"Camelot!" Kassie exclaimed immediately, bouncing a little.
"Isnot real!" Rowan countered. "Mars!"
"You can't go to Mars, silly," Jamie corrected with a nose-wrinkle. "Mystic Falls?"
Stiles and Peter exchanged a long look. They would both rather fly to Mars than ever return to Mystic Falls. Last time Stiles' cousin had convinced them to come by for a family visit, they had to break up a fight between hybrids and vampires, just because Stiles' cousin-in-law was a right smug bastard (never mind that Peter and Klaus had gotten along fantastically, the man had the tendency to rub people the wrong way in quite the same manner as Peter did).
"Camelot sounds doable," Stiles nodded slowly. "Family vacation to England it is."
Peter cupped his mate's face, making Stiles look back at him. For a moment, Peter just got lost in those honey-whiskey eyes, before he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on Stiles' lips. The Spark practically melted against Peter at the softness of their kiss, sighing contently.
"Two weeks in England it is, love," Peter promised.
"And the bubble bath and the massage!" Stiles poked Peter in the chest. "Also I am fairly sure you now owe your sister an actual shopping trip. Because I called her. That's how I found out."
Peter made a face at that. He supposed he deserved it though, as punishment for lying to his husband. Jamie took his hand and pulled Peter along, barely giving Peter the time to turn off the light and close the door of his office, happy to leave work behind for now. For his family.
~*~ The End ~*~