Work Text:
Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf || Cold Cave of Confessions || Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf
Title: Cold Cave of Confessions – Stiles Summer Stories 2025
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, post-Nogitsune, PTSD, hurt/comfort, season 4, fluff, body heat sharing
Main Pairing : Peter/Stiles
Teen Wolf Characters : Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski , Peter H ale
Writer’s Month 2025 Prompt : warmth + cave
Summary : On the hunt for the latest assassin, Stiles and Peter end up having to camp out in a cave. When night hits, it gets cold. Very cold. Peter ends up having to keep Stiles warm.
Cold Cave of Confessions
Stiles Summer Stories 2025
Why was it that Stiles always ended up having to partner with Peter? During research, during recon, now even during patrol. Oh, right, he was the only person fluent in Hale eyebrows (both, Peter’s sarcasm dialect as well as Cora and Derek’s eyebrows-of-grumpy-doom), so he was usually the one left to ‘handle the Hale’. Additionally, the majority of the pack were either still seeing Peter as some mustache twirling villain and didn’t want to partner up with him, or were just generally creeped out by him, or were too likely to start a fight with him.
Aside from Stiles, Erica was the only one qualified to partner up with Peter, on account of being the captain of the Peter Hale fanclub (though not the only member, she had convinced Jackson and Cora to join. Albeit Jackson fell into the category of being too likely to start a fight with Peter if partnered up. And so did Cora, for that matter). However, Erica was also a horrible traitor who knew about Stiles’ huge, inappropriate, stupid, unrequited crush and she thought she was helping him by forcing him to team up with Peter. It was not helping. It was, in fact, doing the opposite.
Instead of getting the distance Stiles needed to get over his dumb feelings, he kept being forced to interact with Peter and interacting with Peter only made the feelings worse. Because the man was wicked smart and as fluent in sarcasm and sass as Stiles, when they really went at it, they could trade barbs for hours. They had, repeatedly, in the past. Usually to the very annoyed and exhausted glares from their Alpha, who told them to ‘get the hell out of my loft and do whatever this is somewhere else’. They didn’t just fight though, they also worked really well together. Figuring out problems, coming up with the plan to save the day.
In Peter Hale, Stiles had finally found his match. He was so used to being underestimated, dismissed and just not being kept up with. He’d talk circles around his peers and even his teachers and often times, they acted like he was stupid, just because they couldn’t follow. Peter could follow. Even when Stiles was only making halfway sense, Peter knew which half to pay attention to. He knew how to formulate Stiles’ ADHD fueled incoherent brilliance into concrete points.
So Stiles and Peter usually ended up together, and it always made things worse. But today? Today was absolutely taking the cake. On the hunt for the latest assassin trying to pick their pack apart for parts, the pack had split up for patrol, to cover as much ground as possible. Stiles and Peter were one of the teams assigned to canvas the preserve and they had drawn the short stick of getting to go into the mountains. Because what could improve today any more? Hiking.
“Darling, it’s really not that bad,” Peter attempted, for the third time.
“All of the wolves,” Stiles stretched for emphasis. “All these super fast, super strong, super durable wolves, who could go into the woods and up the mountain. But we sent the squishy human.”
Peter pursed his lips at that. “Boyd and Isaac are also taking the mountain, from a different angle.”
Stiles rolled his eyes, because Peter was deliberately missing the point. Research was Stiles’ thing, not actively hunting things that went bump in the night (sh, nobody point out that Stiles and Scott only got involved in the supernatural because Stiles had to actively hunt what went bump in the night, this was super not the point here). Stiles shot the obtuse werewolf a glare and opened his mouth for another tirade about how Stilinkis weren’t built for hiking, when thunder rolled overhead. It took seconds for the rain to start and immediately turn into a freezing cold downpour.
“Oh, fuck my life,” Stiles pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head.
It didn’t do anything, because the hoodie was soaked through in moments, but it still made him feel a little better. Crossing his arms over his chest, he looked around for shelter. Peter grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him over toward a cave. So the Snarky Wolf was useful for something after all. Stiles immediately heaved a relieved sigh when they were out of the rain, even though at that point he was already soaked to the underwear. He frowned annoyed down himself.
“We should stay here until the rain eases,” Peter commented, staring out the cave’s entrance.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Stiles snorted and glared at the solid wall of rain. “Considering the steep hike we did up, I am not looking forward to the mud-slide down in the half-dark.”
There was silence from Peter, not the good kind but the thoughtful kind. “You’re right. It would be safer to stay here for the night, you’d probably break both your legs on the way down to the car.”
“The way down to the car. You make it sound like we went a straight path for ten minutes. We hiked for like forty minutes, through the wilderness,” Stiles glared fiercely at Peter. “I hate you.”
“Lie,” Peter noted, looking very smug.
Stiles heaved an annoyed sigh and walked deeper into the cave. Not that there was a lot of cave. But it was high enough for them to walk without ducking and it would be big enough to lay down. Not that Stiles was looking forward to sleeping in a small cave with Peter Hale.
“You’re freezing, darling,” Peter noted with a frown.
Stiles blinked up at the wolf, who was suddenly holding Stiles’ hands between his own. Furrowing his brows, Stiles stared at their hands. Peter’s touch was gentle and warm and Stiles had to fight hard not to blush. This was so counterproductive for the whole stupid crush.
“I’m fine, stop fussing,” Stiles frowned at Peter.
“You’re not fine,” Peter growled displeased and started rubbing Stiles’ hands.
Huffing, Stiles pulled his hands free from the wolf’s grip. “I am .”
The sigh from Peter was so annoyed and infuriated. “Damn it, Stiles, can you stop being brave and stubborn for five fucking seconds? You’re freezing cold. ”
Stiles stared a little startled at the wolf when Peter flashed his eyes blue in anger. “What is your problem, Peter. I’m fine. It’s fine. And besides, what would you even do?”
“It’s not fine, you’re not fine,” Peter growled and grabbed Stiles’ hands again. “And if you die from hypothermia, Erica will be so angry with you. You know she is my favorite among Derek’s rabid puppies, so I would hate for her to be angry.”
Rolling his eyes, Stiles watched the way Peter rubbed his hands again. “I’m fine. I don’t feel cold.”
Peter raised his eyes and frowned at Stiles. “Why wasn’t that a lie…? You definitely haven’t been cold enough to be at the stage of not feeling the cold anymore.”
Great. Because the stupid mission and the stupid rain weren’t enough, now he was stuck in a cave with a worried werewolf and he’d have to have that conversation he’d successfully avoided having with anyone but his dad. Sighing, Stiles leaned against the cave’s wall.
“This body doesn’t regulate heat properly,” Stiles admitted annoyed, not looking at Peter.
“What does that mean?” Peter reached out to cup Stiles’ face. “Darling.”
“This body,” Stiles motioned down. “The… The one the Nogitsune spat my conscience into when you guy split us in two, when the Nogitsune ran off in my body. He left me in this one. And it’s… faulty, I guess. Rush job made by a demon. It works, for the most part. But it doesn’t know how to regulate heat. I’ve been running colder ever since. I just… I just layer up more. But I got… used, to feeling cold. So this? Right now? I’m fine. I’m used to it.”
He hated the look on Peter’s face, because the evil, mustache twirling villain shouldn’t look so devastated and compassionate. Stiles turned away from Peter and glared at the ground.
“Well, you are still soaking wet and cold and even if your body doesn’t regulate heat properly, you will still get sick, won’t you?” Peter asked, waiting for Stiles’ reluctant nod. “So, we’ll get you out of the wet clothes and then we’re going to keep you warm, darling.”
Stiles stared at the wolf a bit dumbfounded as Peter went about gathering stray twigs, branches and leafs in the cave, piling them at the center of the cave. He set bigger stones around it and then used his claws to scrape against a stone until there were sparks flying and the leafs caught fire. Every line in Peter’s body was tense and he was breathing a little too controlled.
“You just made a fire,” Stiles noted worried. “C’mere, come here. Why would you do that?”
He grabbed the wolf and turned him so Peter was facing away from the flames. His eyes were closed and he was breathing very deliberately, the way someone would who was trying actively to not have a panic-attack. Stiles was familiar with that. He just didn’t know why in the world Peter would deliberately set a fire, which was a huge trigger for Peter.
“Darling,” Peter heaved a sigh, staring intensely into Stiles’ eyes. “There are very few things I wouldn’t do for you. I’m fine. I’ll be fine, but you need to get warm and your clothes need to dry, otherwise you’ll get sick, or worse. So, please, take off the wet clothes.”
The snarky comment about the Creeperwolf was effectively killed by the sincerity and the gravity of Peter making a fire to keep Stiles warm . The werewolf would be fine. Hell, the werewolf would be fine running out into the rain and going home. But the human needed to be kept warm and dry.
“Don’t… Just don’t say anything, okay?” Stiles requested as he started taking his clothes off.
Peter took them from him and spread them out near the fire. Stiles left his briefs on and shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable and self-conscious. He was the scrawny, pale nerd, standing in front of the chiseled, broad, gorgeous underwear model like werewolf.
“Darling, why do you smell so sour?” Peter asked gently, grasping Stiles’ chin.
“Just… Just feeling a little inadequate next to you,” Stiles huffed out a sarcastic laugh.
“Look at me, sweetheart,” Peter lifted Stiles’ face and when their eyes met, Stiles was taken aback by the raw adoration in Peter’s eyes. “You’re beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”
And then Peter was taking off his own clothes and Stiles’ cheeks got hotter and hotter. The man seriously looked like Michaelangelo had made him. The werewolf smirked knowingly at him, clearly able to smell Stiles’ thoughts. Because this moment wasn’t already humiliating enough.
“C’mere, sweetheart,” Peter requested, pulling Stiles with him.
The two of them sat down together and then Peter actually pulled him into the wolf’s lap, chest to chest, with Stiles’ back facing the fire. A hot werewolf in front of him, a warm fire behind him. Peter made sure to keep his eyes on Stiles, to avoid the flames behind Stiles.
“Why would you do this?” Stiles asked, completely lost. “Stop being… kind and selfless. It’s weird. I don’t know what to do with this. Please be sarcastic and an asshole.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t answer your question while being a sarcastic asshole,” Peter chuckled, his breath hot against Stiles’ neck. “I like you, I’ve always liked you, Stiles. There are few things I wouldn’t do for you. So let me keep you warm and safe, for tonight.”
Ironically, it overcame Stiles like a bucket of ice-cold water. Peter liked him. Actually liked him. Stiles wrapped his arms tightly around Peter and buried his face in Peter’s neck. Not without brushing his lips against Peter’s, causing the wolf to freeze with wide eyes.
“I like you too, Idiot Wolf,” Stiles whispered flustered before nuzzling into the warmth of his wolf.
~*~ The End ~*~