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Title: Spite and Bite – Writer's Pride Month Bingo 2026

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 season 2, accidental mate-bite (Stiles bites Peter), Pack Feels

Main Pairing: Peter/Stiles

Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale, Derek Hale

Writer’s Pride Month Bingo 2026 Prompt: spite

Summary: Wolves bit each other all the time. For a bite to become a mate-bite, it needed intent; a foundation of love, desire and trust. So, biting Peter out of spite was a hell of a way for Stiles to realize he was in love with Peter.

Spite and Bite

Writer's Pride Month Bingo 2026

Stiles Stilinski was a spiteful creature. Vindictive, too. Peter found both those qualities incredibly attractive. That boy was stunning when he was baring his teeth in a snarl like a wolf. The fire in his eyes when he held his own against any threat that should have a normal human afraid.

When that boy had tricked and trapped Peter, a feral beast of a wolf, and taunted him, the wolf had known he needed to have. Needed to sink his teeth into soft flesh, claim and make that boy submit. Despite that primal urge, Peter couldn’t bring himself to actually do it when he had Stiles’ wrist against his lips. When Stiles said no, regardless of how much of a lie it was, Peter allowed the boy to break free.

Patience, he whispered to the beast inside his chest as it snarled in protest.

The boy was ruthless when he set Peter on fire. No mercy, only vengeance. The last conscious thought Peter had before his death was just how desperately he wanted that boy. How much Stiles was alike him, regardless of how hard Stiles tried to deny it. And that Peter needed to bring himself back, so he could claim Stiles, give him the bite – maybe he won’t be able to turn Stiles, but the much more important bite? He would still be able to give him that.

Both Peter and his wolf couldn’t wait for that. But patience truly would be required, because while the banshee would be able to revive him, Peter doubted he’d be able to pull two miraculous resurrections. And there was no doubt in his mind that Stiles would personally end him if Peter forced a mate-bite onto him. Not that he would want that. No, half the thrill would be to make Stiles see reason, understand just how similar they were, how well they would fit together, how perfect they would be for each other.

The true vindication was going to be to have Stiles admit it, want it and ask for it.

/break\

Peter Hale was infuriating. It was like the man had been designed in a lab to rub Stiles the wrong way. He was such a smug bastard, so damn arrogant – and sadly really useful and usually right. He had knowledge that the rest of their pack was severely lacking; decades of living as a wolf, living in a pack. Derek was a born wolf, sure, but he was barely twenty, wholly unprepared, extremely overwhelmed and had been even younger than Stiles and the Betas were right now when Derek had still been part of a functioning pack, so he hadn’t exactly gained too much insight.

Peter had the insight. Not just from his own life in the pack, but also from all the books he was hoarding. Over the summer of trying to find the Alpha Pack and free Boyd and Erica, Derek had shown Stiles the Hale Vault. It had nearly made him salivate. And then the Alpha had informed him that the majority of books that had survived actually belonged to Peter and were in the man’s private penthouse; the ones in the vault were more generic, less specific.

“You’re in the same pack,” Derek pointed out, his eyebrows raised. “You’re pack-mates.”

“So?” Stiles squinted at Derek in irritation. “You also bit Jackson Whittemore and I am sure as shit not going to start having sleepovers and talk about boys with him either.”

Derek heaved a sigh and shook his head at Stiles before stepping deeper into the vault. There were so many books here, how did Peter have even more? And more interesting ones at that? Stiles’ fingers itched for them. Knowledge should not be gatekept by annoying Zombiewolves.

“How are you fine with this?” Stiles asked. “He killed your sister.”

For a moment, Derek went very still, then he audibly took a deep breath. “He did. And I killed him. But now he’s alive again and I’m the Alpha of the Hale Pack and he’s the only other Hale there is. He’s the only family I have left, Stiles. Pack means… You don’t understand it because you’re human. Even the bitten Betas don’t understand what it really means. To a born wolf? Pack means everything. There is only one thing deeper and more important to a wolf than their pack-bonds.”

“What is that?” Stiles asked, interest piqued.

“Our mates,” Derek smiled ever so faintly. “No bond more sacred and deeper than the mate-bond.”

“Right,” Stiles nodded and returned his attention to the shelf of books. “So, what? You’re forgiving Peter just because he’s the only other Hale? Because you’re pack?”

“Because we are pack and because we were pack,” Derek was quiet for a long moment. “I grew up with Peter. He was my favorite member of our family. This… This version of Peter, that’s not the uncle I grew up with. The fire burned so much of his kindness and… fun… out of him. But I still remember the man he used to be, and I’ll never forget him. The fire changed us both. And I think that… the only way we can move forward is if we leave the past behind us. Laura’s death, Peter’s death, the fire. We need… I need to focus on the future.”

Stiles looked at Derek. Really looked at Derek. It showed, that the wolf had decided to move forward. He wasn’t living in the burned out shell of his family home anymore, had bought a loft. One that was in serious need of redecorating – and Lydia was hard at work doing just that, because with Jackson being a wolf now, Lydia had inserted herself into the pack too, of course – but it was an improvement. Even just the fact that Derek had turned Betas, was building a pack. Something Laura never did, evidently. It had been just Laura and Derek in New York and it had apparently been very easy for Derek to turn his back on the place he’d lived at for six years. But now, here, Derek was ready to try and plant roots, to have a new start. Build a future.

“He attacked Scott, turned him with no regard for Scott’s life or his agency,” Stiles knew he sounded petulant. “He tore Lydia apart, then tormented her psychologically for months.”

“You’re going to hold a grudge,” Derek nodded. “But you’ll have to learn to coexist. If Lydia can, don’t you think you can too?”

“Lydia is only coexisting with him because Peter promised to teach her about her heritage and powers,” Stiles argued. “Peter has nothing to offer to me to bribe me into enduring him.”

Derek snorted, but the look on his face seemed mostly fond. “Peter has books.”

Ah, fuck. Stiles glared deeply at Derek for that and, out of spite, grabbed a heap of books from the shelf. “You have books too. I am reading your books.”

/break\

Peter had never been a patient man. Many of his mother’s pies could attest to that, getting plundered while still waiting to cool down. But the burned tongue healed fast and getting the most pie was worth the temporary pain, after all, if he waited for the pies to cool down, then he would have to share them with his siblings and the rest of the family. Not much had changed since then, he mused. He was still impatient, still greedy and still hated to share.

His gaze settled on Stiles. Peter greatly approved of the way the boy had grown out his hair. And now, with more mental capacity, Peter could also appreciate Stiles’ beauty much more.  The feral wolf had simply wanted, primal and all-consuming. The man however, he wanted in detail, in nuance. Those big doe-eyes, his full lips, the long legs, elegant fingers, the curve of his ass, width of his shoulders, the lengthy and detailed rants about whatever he had researched last, his fierce protectiveness over the people he loved, his loyalty, his bravery, his quick-wit and sharp tongue.

Peter loved every aspect of Stiles, even the seething glares and petty, cutting comments he would throw at Peter. Because it showed that Stiles wasn’t afraid of Peter. Human boy, fragile skin, no special hunter training like the Argent girl or special powers like the banshee, and yet Stiles never backed down, always raised his chin in challenge. The wolf in Peter loved that challenge, wanted to hunt the pretty Bambi boy through the woods, pin him to the floor, make him submit and claim him.

His patience started to pay off though. After the role Peter had played in freeing Boyd, Erica and Cora – unlocking Isaac’s memories, allowing them to find the location, figuring out what the bank vault had been made of, together with Stiles – the boy seemed to be tolerating him much more.

Having freed Cora probably also helped, in that it distracted Peter somewhat from his single-minded focus on Stiles. His niece was alive, had never died. Had never abandoned Peter, the way Laura and Derek had. He tried to reconnect her, to learn her anew. All three Hales spent more time together now, trying to mend what had been broken.

Stiles seemed to appreciate no longer being Peter’s sole focus. In Peter’s defense, the boy was utterly fascinating. In this pack of angsty, traumatized teenagers, with generic teenage drama, Peter had nothing else to hold his attention. Trying to learn more about his future mate and make Stiles see Peter was the most interesting thing to do.

Taking a step back, allowing Stiles more breathing room, and having helped free two pack-mates Stiles cared about had put Peter somewhat in Stiles’ favor. There were still cutting remarks, glares and distrust, but the sharpest edges were sanded off. And the biggest sign of it all: Stiles stood before him. Alone, no back-up, not within the safety of Derek’s loft, but in front of Peter’s door.

“Darling,” Peter smiled, full of fangs and want. “What brings you to my doorstep?”

Stiles stood before him with a glower on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. “Your books.”

The smile on Peter’s lips spread further, the wolf in his chest purring pleased at this development. He’d been laying out the lure for months now. Casually reading his books at the loft, trying to gain Stiles’ attention. Even the knowledge he shared with Lydia in training her, he made sure to drop enough hints at more knowledge and more books being at his place, knowing the information would be relayed from Lydia to Stiles. Finally, his prey caught the bait. Time to reel him in.

“What was that? You missed me and wanted to spend more time in my presence?” Peter smirked and, when Stiles turned around, he opened the door fully and stepped aside. “Please, come inside.”

And never leave again. Stiles narrowed his eyes at Peter as though he had heard the quiet part Peter thought to himself. Sometimes, that boy could be scary. But he had incredible instincts and knew how to read people. Which was terrific to watch when it was their enemies and terrifying when Peter found himself looked at with these intense, golden eyes.

“Come inside, Little Red. I promise I won’t eat you whole,” Peter offered.

Stiles looked utterly unimpressed, but he did fidget self-consciously with his red hoodie. He should really know what that did to a wolf. Peter wanted to hunt him through the forest for sports. With a last resigned sigh did Stiles push past Peter and into the living room. For a long moment, Peter had to grip the doorway very tightly, his claws scratching the wood as he tried to rein in the wolf. Because his chosen mate was inside his den. He had finally done it, had finally lured Stiles into his home. Step two of his agonizingly slow plan was finally completed.

/break\

Stiles knew he was being manipulated. He wasn’t stupid, okay? He was, however, bribable. And Peter had gained enough of his favor for Stiles to let himself be bribed. The man had been genuinely useful in tracking down the Alpha Pack and in saving Boyd and Erica’s lives, after all. Stiles had been so close but hadn’t been able to figure it out all on his own. Peter had perfectly cut through his ramblings and filtered out the important parts, making it make sense.

And things continued like that after too, Peter staying at the loft, doing research and the ground work with Stiles. It was disturbingly easy to work with the man, to pick up where he left off and to have Peter complete his own thoughts. Terrifying, in a way, because it felt like a connection and he didn’t want to feel a connection with Peter Hale.

Not just because of what Peter had done to Derek, Scott and Lydia. Also because of that, because Stiles knew how to hold a mean grudge and maybe… maybe because it was easier to hate Peter than to hate his mom. Stiles could see the parallel, of a person doing horrible things when their mind was gone. But with his mom, Stiles was quick to absolve her, even though all the horrible things she had done when sick, she had done directly to him. It was easier to be angry on someone else’s behalf and it was easier to hate someone who wasn’t his mom.

It had been easier before he knew Peter though. When all Peter had been was the feral Alpha, cutting a path of vengeance, paved with bodies. It was easy to see just a villain, a cartoonish monster to fight. It became harder when the monster also became a man though.

Snarky banter, long nights spent researching their current threat – the overarching threats of the Darach and the Alpha Pack, but they also had smaller problems pop up every now and again. Drinking Peter’s stupidly expensive coffee on Peter’s stupidly expensive and also stupidly comfortable couch, reading Peter’s rare books, actually seeing his home, seeing the life he lead and the things he had lost.

There was a wobbly yellow ceramic bowl on the man’s sideboard, for Peter’s keys and watch to be put in when the man came home. It was signed with Cora’s name. Because Peter wasn’t a cartoon villain whose evil deeds existed out of context. His insanity and his revenge spree had both been born from the loss of his family. Because Peter had once been Derek’s favorite uncle, had once been given horrid art project from elementary school Cora that this man – this man whose entire apartment was pristine and fancy – proudly displayed. There were pictures on the wall, of Hales who didn’t survive the fire. Of a young Peter, sitting on his father’s lap with a broad grin, lanky teenage Peter in a tux at prom, as a young man in a more well fitted tux to be his brother’s best man at his wedding.

There was an entire life lived and so much of it lost and the remnants of it were all over the penthouse, like ghosts haunting Stiles. Telling him about the man behind the beast. The man who made really good pasta from scratch, because his grandma had been Italian and he had learned how to cook through her cook book. The man who had a fluffy, soft blanket on his couch and he would throw over Stiles whenever Stiles nodded off late into research. The man who made Stiles laugh with his sarcastic remarks.

Stiles knew he was being manipulated. Knew that every bit of information, every sliver of vulnerability wasn’t something Stiles discovered on his own, but something given by Peter, precisely calculated. Stiles knew this was a trap. He just couldn’t exactly figure out what for.

Peter already had a begrudging understanding with Derek, their Alpha. And ever since they’d saved Cora, the relationship between the Hales was steadily improving, so it wasn’t like Peter needed Stiles as an advocate with Derek. Hell, remembering his talk with Derek in the vault, it had felt more like the other way around, really.

Stiles remembered the bite-offer and quietly wondered if Peter was scheming to become Alpha again. Still wanted Stiles as his Beta and was trying to butter him up so Stiles would say yes this time around, would join his pack. It was the most logical conclusion for Stiles at this point. Because Beacon Hills was overrun with spare Alphas and it would be oh-so easy for Peter to steal an Alpha spark for himself, without having to kill his nephew (something, Stiles had been startled to realize, he genuinely thought Peter didn’t want to do).

“Thinking hard again, sweetheart? What’s on your mind?”

Stiles looked up to frown at the wolf in question. The mocking pet-names were somewhat annoying, but what else was Stiles supposed to expect from a sarcastic asshole like Peter.

“Nothing,” Stiles glared at the wolf who cocked an unimpressed eyebrow. “Nothing that would be any of your business, Creeperwolf. Get back to work.”

“So bossy,” Peter chuckled amused but obliged.

Stiles narrowed his eyes as he watched the wolf sit down opposite him. Peter turned a page on the book he was reading, seemingly working on trying to figure out how to identify the Darach. Stiles was going to figure out Peter’s angle, sooner or later. Because even though Stiles knew he was being manipulated, he also knew it was working. He was growing attached to the sarcastic asshole, the arrogant hoarder of knowledge, the cutting wit and the softer, caring side that Peter only showed in his penthouse or in the rare moments Stiles got to observe Peter alone with Cora.

And Stiles could absolutely not be invested in the man just to learn about his ulterior motif and realize he was still the same villain only after his own gain, ready to use everyone else as nothing but pawns. Stiles couldn’t be a pawn, not if he genuinely cared.

/break\

The realization that Peter was in love with Stiles overcame Peter like a bucket of ice-water being poured over him. He should probably be embarrassed by it and he knew his best friend Fiona would have been so unimpressed with him for it. After all, his wolf had picked Stiles as their perfect mate.

However, the wolf was raw instinct, primal urge. It had done so even when Peter was out of his mind, wasn’t in control. It wasn’t about soft feelings or illogical things like love, it was about raw survival. Stiles was strong – not physically, but mentally, both in mind and also in the things he could endure – he was clever enough to be an aid, especially to a wolf with a scattered mind, he was brave and vicious enough to survive, was young and healthy. He would have made a strong Alpha mate to build a pack with. Pure instinct, nothing more.

And even when Peter had regained more control, after his resurrection, he was mostly following his wolf’s lead. Sure, Stiles was stunningly beautiful and his sarcasm made him entertaining company, but for the most part, Peter was just following that primal urge in his chest, nothing more.

Until one random Friday night at his home, late into researching the Nemeton – because they were fairly sure at this point that the Darach was either hiding out there, or at least trying to use its magical properties for their plans. Stiles had fallen asleep over the books, his face mushed against a page that was older than this town, mouth in a cute pout and open just a little, his long lashes painting even longer shadows on his cheeks.

Peter had gotten up to remove the boy from the book before he’d drool on it, but in lifting Stiles up, he suddenly had Stiles cradled in his arms. The boy, in his sleep, had instinctively snuggled up to him, resting his cheek against Peter’s chest with a soft, content sigh. He looked so peaceful and deceptively sweet and Peter was struck by the urge to protect him at all costs, to not let any danger come near Stiles while he was this vulnerable. What slammed into him even harder though was just how much he loved Stiles, how much he cherished every soft moment, every vulnerable moment, every snarky and sharp moment, every shared meal, every shared research, every shared banter.

Peter had fallen in love with Stiles, in a human and all-consuming way that had never been planned.

/break\

Stiles and Peter were running for their lives. Stiles hated that ‘running for his life’ had essentially become his cardio at this point. It happened every week. The two had been in the preserve, trying to find the Nemeton based on the texts they’d read. And then they ran into the twins.

“You’re too slow,” Peter growled, his eyes an unnatural blue.

“Yeah, well,” Stiles was panting hard. “I may have long legs but I am not a wolf! I’m only human, I can only go that fast!”

He stumbled, again. Because the longer they ran, the more uncoordinated he got. Exhaustion was getting to him, he knew that Peter could hear his rattling breath and his racing heart. Peter gave a growl and Stiles got it. The human was slowing the wolf down.

“Feel free to just leave the useless human behind and save yourself, asshole,” Stiles bit out.

This got him an even louder growl from Peter. Honestly, Stiles didn’t even know why Peter bothered to try and keep in pace with Stiles. Alone, the wolf would have long since outrun the twins – he had the home advantage, after all, nobody knew the preserve the way Peter did, who had been running in these woods all his life. He probably didn’t want to have to explain to Derek why the pack’s pet human was dead on his watch.

“I’ll be faster if I just carry you.”

When Stiles stumbled this time, it was entirely out of surprise and not related to his physical condition. He turned to stare at the wolf but he didn’t even have time to give any kind of verbal  reaction because the next moment, Peter fucking Hale picked him up bridal style mid-running. All Stiles managed was a yelp, his arms winding around Peter’s neck on instinct to hold on.

“What the fuck, what the actual fuck are you doing, Creeperwolf?” Stiles gave a valiant growl back because what the fuck. “I’m not some damsel in distress! Put me the fuck down!”

“I’m not leaving you behind,” Peter’s voice was definite at that. “But I’ll be faster if I don’t have to wait for you and watch out for you not breaking a leg.”

Peter did pick up speed and the roaring Alpha twin monstrosity got smaller and smaller behind them. That did not lessen the humiliation though. And the weird other shit, because for some reason, Stiles’ heart was still racing in his chest like it was trying to break free.

They left the preserve behind, Peter just running at wolf-speed through the dark, empty streets, small alleys, making his way to the penthouse without drawing attention. When Peter finally started to slow down to a normal pace, Stiles felt the flush on his cheeks.

“Will you put me down now?” Stiles asked impatiently.

“Not until you’re safe,” Peter growled back.

And what kind of caveman bullshit was this? Stiles, still in a fucking bridal carry, started slapping Peter’s chest, kicking his feet, but the wolf refused to let him go, single-mindedly walking toward his own den. Stiles’ irritation grew, fueled by the humiliation of having Peter carry him, the feeling of being so utterly useless and breakable that he had been more burden than help. Being backed into an emotional corner like that, Stiles reacted in the only way he could. He lashed out physically, and since hitting and kicking wasn’t getting through, he sank his teeth into the nearest part of Peter, biting down on the man’s exposed neck.

The reaction was instantaneous. Peter froze up, his eyes wide as he stumbled and let go of Stiles. A yelp later and Stiles was on the ground. Well. That was what he had wanted. Frowning, Stiles got up. The wolf looked completely shocked, one hand having gone up to cover his neck.

“Oh, don’t be a baby,” Stiles huffed. “I barely broke skin, you’ll heal. Whatever. I’m going hom-“

“You are absolutely not,” Peter’s voice turned into something final and dangerous.

Stiles stopped, going completely rigid on instinct. It was the first time Peter – human Peter, not monstrous Alpha form Peter – made Stiles feel like he was in the presence of a dangerous apex predator. His eyes widened and he wondered briefly if maybe biting a werewolf had not been the best idea he ever had. Maybe the wolf saw that as some kind of challenge or something. Maybe Stiles was in actual, serious trouble right now. He swallowed hard.

/break\

Peter was reeling from the one-sided mate-bond weaving its way into his soul, tying him to his chosen mate. The most overwhelming part was where he wasn’t the one who had given the first bite. No, for reasons Peter couldn’t even begin to grasp, Stiles had bitten Peter.

“Oka—ay,” Stiles looked at him warily. “Yeah, no. I’m heading home.”

Peter gave a soft warning growl at the prospect of his mate leaving him, with an unfinished bond. Following the wolf’s instincts, Peter grabbed his boy, hoisted him back up and carried him into the building and up the elevator to get to his place. Stiles continued complaining, but Peter’s need to have his mate out of danger and safe in his den was too strong not to listen to. The Alpha twins could still be following them. The penthouse was safe. The wards his mother had placed so many years ago were still strong, not allowing anyone with ill-intent inside.

“Great. Now that you have effectively kidnapped me, again, I might note,” Stiles looked very unimpressed as Peter put him down on the couch. “What’s next?”

Once Peter had the door locked, just to be sure, some of the tension eased off of him. Safe. His mate was safe now. Peter took a deep breath. With the wolf settled down some, Peter could focus on the unfinished bond between them. It was growing stronger by the minute, prodding him, waiting for him to seal it, to complete it. Stiles had bitten him and, more importantly, had started a bond.

“You bit me,” Peter whispered, turning around to look at the boy in awe.

“You refused to put me down!” Stiles yelped, throwing his hands up in the air. “I was kicking and hitting you and you weren’t listening, so I bit you! It worked!”

“You are a feral little creature,” Peter muttered fondly. “You gave me a mate-bite, darling.”

Silence, as Stiles stared at him, before he huffed. “Yeah, right. I’m human. How would I even-”

“Doesn’t matter,” Peter cut in, shaking his head. “Wolves can be mates with humans. Humans and wolves can give each other the mate-bite.”

Stiles snorted in disbelief. “I’ve seen Isaac bite Jackson. Does that make them mates?”

“No, it does not. Wolves bite, a lot. Playful, sometimes more serious when an argument escalates,” Peter started to explain patiently. “Not every bite between wolves is a mate-bite either. And for a human to be able to give the mate-bite, the same requirements need to be met. A bite only turns into a mate-bite if there is a foundation of love, desire and trust.”

Stiles loved him. Stiles wanted him. Stiles trusted him. Peter’s wolf was pacing impatiently, eager to jump onto their mate and claim him, seal their open mate-bond, finally make Stiles his. The boy jerked back in surprise, looking wary at that. He inched closer to the door.

“You’re manipulating me,” Stiles whispered narrow-eyed, shaking his head. “You’re lying. You’re just… You’re just trying to bait me into accepting the bite that you already offered, that I already rejected. This is a lie. I’m not in love with you.”

Peter had never been more delighted to hear a lie in his life. A knowing, pleased grin spread over Peter’s lips, but it was the final thing to push Stiles out. He unlocked the door and ran. As much as Peter’s wolf wanted to chase and catch and claim, Peter knew he needed to give Stiles some time. After all, it had been a shock for Peter to realize that he was in love with Stiles – and he had already been obsessed with Stiles and known he wanted Stiles as his mate for months – so it must be quite the shock for the stubborn, spiteful boy to realize he had, against better judgment, fallen in love with Peter. Peter smiled pleased. Patience. It had paid off so far, after all.

/break\

“What do you know about mate-bites? How are they actually formed?”

Stiles didn’t even give a ‘hello’ as he pushed into the loft wide-eyed, having run there directly from the penthouse. Derek frowned at him with his impressive eyebrow-game and got up.

“What did Peter do?”

The fact that Derek immediately assumed Peter, even with such simple question that could have been born from yet another late-night research binge – Stiles was prone for digging rabbit-holes that seemed random to others but actually followed certain jumps in logic for Stiles that had brought him to the topic at hand – so it wasn’t exactly uncommon for Stiles to bombard the Alpha with random question. Stiles’ heart was still racing in his chest. The look on Peter’s face when he talked about love, desire and trust. So much certainty and… joy. There was no other word for it. Joy.

“Just give it to me straight,” Stiles requested with a shake of his head. “No bullshit. How do you form a bond through a mate-bite?”

“Werewolves know it pretty instinctively,” Derek said after a long moment. “The wolf inside knows before the human side, it often even takes the human side a bit to come to terms with it because… human society teaches something different? That you need to get to know people first before you can know these kind of things. But the wolf knows.”

Derek paused and crossed his arms. “There are different forms of bites. As the Alpha, my bite can turn humans. So… not every bite I give would be a mate-bite. We need… a connection, before. A bond that’s already forming, one built on… trust, love, want… The bite opens that connection, but it can never just be forced by the wolf. It needs to be reciprocated. Both, the feelings and the bite. Because only if the feelings are returned will the other person be able to bite back. The bond will seal itself. Think of it as a magical tether that the first person who bites will throw and if the other person returns the feelings, they’ll throw their own tether. When those entangle, it’ll stay.”

Stiles swallowed hard and nodded, his heart racing even more, if possible. “So… So if a human were to bite a wolf, then they… could they start a mate-bond too? Like, not just ‘oh, a wolf started this thing and I, though the power of love, can seal it?’, but fully… starting it?”

After some reluctance, Derek nodded. “Yes. It’s uncommon, but I suppose.”

“Cool,” Stiles nodded. “Cool, cool, cool. So cool.”

“Stiles,” Derek’s eyebrows furrowed even deeper. “What happened.”

“So I might have bitten your uncle and he got kinda starry-eyed and talked about mate-bonds?”

There was cackling coming from upstairs and Stiles glared at the spiral-staircase, hoping Isaac could feel the burn of his glare. Derek heaved a deep sigh and sank down onto the couch.

“Do I even want to know in what context you bit my uncle?” Derek asked. “Because if it’s sexual in nature, just… shake your head and don’t say anything? Please?”

“Sexual?” Stiles squeaked at that, his whole face on fire. “What? Why? What?”

“He’s asking you not to tell us about how you’re banging our uncle,” Cora called from upstairs.

“I am also asking you not to tell us about that, even if he’s not my uncle,” Isaac added, before he paused thoughtfully. “Erica wants to hear about it though. In graphic details.”

Stiles squeaked again, looking between the uncomfortable Alpha on the couch and the spiral staircase. “...Is everyone in this pack under the impression I am having sex with Peter?”

“Yes,” Isaac replied, while Cora said: “Jackson actually thinks you haven’t had the guts to go that far yet and that you’re just ‘making out in a nerd way’.”

“I am not having sex with Peter!” Stiles exclaimed.” I am also not making out with Peter, neither in a nerd way nor in any way! There is nothing going on between Peter and I!”

“Aside from the half-formed mate-bond you initiated by biting him,” Derek pushed, his frown seeming somewhat judgmental. “If… it wasn’t an accident during sex… How did you bite him?”

“Uhm, so, the Alpha twins were chasing us through the preserve while we were looking for the Nemeton – stop growling, Der, we are totally fine, nothing happened – but I was slowing him down and I told Peter to just run and leave me behind – seriously, stop growling, he didn’t leave me behind, okay? He picked me up and carried me and it was embarrassing and weird and I was hitting him and telling him to put me down and when he wasn’t listening to me, I kinda… bit him? To make him listen to me? And his neck was just, right next to my face? I don’t know, it seemed like a good idea at the time, stop looking so judgmental.”

“You decided to bite a werewolf,” Derek spoke very slowly. “You were being hunted by an Alpha and figured that you should bite the werewolf who was currently actively saving your life?”

“I mean…” Stiles blinked a few times. “That’s… If you put it like that, it sounds bad.”

“It is bad!” Cora called out. “Lydia keeps saying you’re smart, but you are actually dumb!”

“Okay, that’s enough from the upstairs peanut gallery! Go and do your homework,” Stiles yelled.

Huffing, Stiles crossed his arms over his chest, his cheeks red. He hated that they were right. He hadn’t fully thought that one through. But he hadn’t known a mate-bond was a possibility! He wouldn’t have done it if he’d known that! Groaning, he rubbed his hands over his face.

“...So he’s right?” Stiles asked softly, looking up. “Does that mean I’m in love with Peter?”

The look on Derek’s face softened. “You… really didn’t realize?”

“No!” Stiles yelped. “I have been so busy hating him and trying to see the monster! Him being a real person and a funny, snarky, attractive, smart person, that shit crept up to me!”

Stiles stared at Derek with wide, mortified eyes. He was in love with Peter Hale. Fuck.

/break\

When someone knocked on Peter’s door three hours after Stiles had left, Peter was fully prepared for a glaring Derek to give him a shovel-talk, maybe even the sheriff with a gun, or an army of protective pups growling at him to treat their favorite human right. What he didn’t expect was to open the door and have two arms full of Stiles and soft lips pressing very firmly against his.

“You came around on that remarkably fast,” Peter whispered against Stiles’ lips.

Stiles just glared at him with narrow eyes. “You know I’m quick at working through a problem – yes, you are a problem, Peter, you absolutely are. And I’m not saying I am fully like… seeing a happily ever after for us, or whatever. But I might be more attracted to you than I was ready to admit and I might have stronger feelings for you than I was ready to admit. I realized I’ve been… liking you more and more lately and I was struggling with that. I will be struggling with it for a while longer, honestly. Like, totally gonna freak out on you if you get mushy on me.”

Peter pursed his lips at that and nodded. “Not getting mushy on you, then.”

His arms found their way around Stiles’ waist, slowly dragging the boy into the penthouse. Stiles was biting his lip hard, frowning like he was worrying about something. Peter kissed him gently.

“A mate-bond can stay open with no problems for months,” Peter reassured him gently. “I won’t ask you to accept my bite until you are more settled with your own feelings, and with mine.”

“Eew,” Stiles wrinkled his nose. “Actually, considerate you is so much creepier.”

Peter huffed and buried his face in Stiles’ neck. “I love you, darling. You’re worth the wait.”

Stiles sighed dramatically. “Dating for two minutes and you already lied to me. You said you won’t get all mushy on me, yet here you go, Sappy Wolf.”

It made Peter laugh, smiling against Stiles’ skin. However long Stiles needed, it’d be worth it.

~*~ The End ~*~