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After a whole summer of having Peter by his side for at least one day of the week, Stiles felt like a fool for not noticing sooner. He should have known by now to not just take anything that Peter does at face value.
He’d been so caught up preemptively sulking about the inevitable change from Peter’s summer wardrobe, to the winter one, he just didn’t see that it wasn’t changing… at all. In fact, a lot of his outfits were starting to look a little worn around the edges and now that he thinks about it, Stiles is sure that he hasn’t seen a new article of clothing in quite a while.
I guess I should take us back to explain why they’ve been spending this much time together, like a good Christmas narrator. You see, after the whole malarky with the “Benefactor” Peter had not been in anyone's good books.
The duffel bag full of money was taken away by the FBI for “further investigation” and since all the paper documentation was destroyed, there was no way of proving it belonged to Peter; which, understandably, put the man in a particularly foul mood.
This was just the icing on the cake really. None of the McCall pack truly believed that Peter had nothing to do with it, except for Stiles. Stiles, who is still very much in camp “What happens when you’re out of your mind, and/or not in control of yourself, because of evil psychopaths is not your fault.” Evil psychopaths being Nogitsunes, Teen Stalkers, generations of evil Argents, y’know, that sort of thing.
It certainly didn’t help when Peter and Stiles together had tracked down and killed a Witch that had been causing mayhem in Beacon Hills. Two teens had been killed in the crossfire and Scott still wanted to talk it down. Neither Stiles or Peter had believed it’s apology, or it’s promise to leave, so when they found it setting up a trap in the woods they felt more than justified in destroying it. No one will ever be able to tell that that was anything resembling human ever again.
To be honest, it wasn’t much of a surprise to them when they started getting left behind and stuck with mounds of research. Stiles actually worked it so that he had a fairly decent income providing information. Information for people struggling with their own supernatural woes, other packs with little access to books, college students that need help with “real life” issues. Sometimes there’s the less than legal information but that just nets him a higher payment.
But back to the point at hand.
The realisation that things weren’t changing enough for Peter came to Stiles as he watched the wolf shiver. It wasn’t a shudder from repulsion or arousal, but definitely the chill in the air. Watching from his cocoon on the sofa, Stiles followed him with his eyes as the other got up to go and adjust Derek’s thermostat. As Peter turned back around their eyes met. There’s no way he can just confront him about something as big as this without them falling out.
Oh shit, play natural? Play natural. The voice in Stiles' head instructed, so he wiggled over a little and patted the sofa next to him with a socked foot. “Come on over here, hot stuff, I’m gonna use you as a foot warmer.” Stiles teased, leering at Peter.
“You’re disgusting. I don’t know where your feet have been.” Peter scoffed, clutching the front of his shirt with mock indignation, his legs carrying him over anyway.
“Rude. I’ll have you know that these are fresh socks, and they’re fluffy. Unless you’re allergic to nice things, and I know you’re not, there’s no good reason to not join me.” He jabbered pulling his knees and blankets up to his chest so that Peter can make himself comfortable underneath.
“Just pass me my book.” Peter grumbles as he tucks the covers around himself better and slouches down so that they’re really snuggled in.
When he can finally hear Peter’s quiet snores, his chest moving slowly under his limbs, Stiles counts it as a win and solidifies his resolve to figure out what’s going on with the wolf.
It would be fair to say that over the last year Stiles has developed something of a crush on the werewolf but unlike Scott’s assumption, it didn’t start off with how smoking hot he is. It started off with how Peter was the first person to treat him like a human being after the Nogitsune.
Peter was the first to notice how little Stiles was sleeping, how he wasn’t eating properly, and let's forget functioning correctly at all, ok? His dad tried to pick him up when it was obvious that Stiles was slipping but Peter was the one who would bring him over soup and physically march him back into bed. The wolf would just sit there and read book after book, poking Stiles every time the bitter scent of a nightmare threatened his peace.
They are friends.
Stiles would like more than that but realistically it’s not going to happen.
Sometimes it feels like Peter might want more than they have right now but then something always rushes to separate them and the moment is lost. Sometimes it feels like he needs Peter around just so that he can breathe clearly but he know’s that it’s not something that would ever be reciprocated.
The next time Stiles is called in to help find some info for the pack he takes an extra hoodie and grabs sugary coffee on the way, making sure to get extra whipped cream and sprinkles on Peter’s hot chocolate. The look on Peter’s face when he inhales the heavy scent is content, more relaxed Stiles has seen him in a while. And Peter with a whipped cream moustache? He would laugh except Peter is licking it off and, hello ! Nevertheless, they enjoy their drinks side by side in the quiet loft, waiting for the rest of the ingrates they call pack to show up.
The time after that he takes three more blankets because watching Peter wrap himself up and bundle? It’s adorable as hell. The wolf was warm enough after one, the rest were purely for comfort and if that’s not going to melt Stiles’ heart then nothing else stands a chance. If he uses those comforters for his bed at night… no one else needs to know.
Every time he goes out now, he takes more snacks than he can eat by himself. When he sees the hunger that rises up when his wolf is chowing down on a croissant, dread fills the pit of Stiles’ stomach. He knows hunger like that, even when it’s well disguised and it’s never good. From that point on he starts bringing “leftovers” with him wherever he goes just to make sure that if Peter is there, Stiles can make him eat something good.
Stiles confided in his Dad, who agreed that he needs to wait for Peter to talk to him first. But… there’s no way that he’s going to let his friend suffer silently, especially not when it’s so easy to make him happy.
Information is his business, and it’s not hard to discreetly work out what’s going on with Peter.
The wolf is completely broke living from week to week, selling off little bits here and there for groceries when he’s out of cash. With little leeway over his legal identity there are just so few jobs that Peter could get that are not beneath his dignity, certainly none that would accommodate to his lavish lifestyle or even a comfortable one… He has to be scraping by at best. His pride is one of the few things he has left and he won’t bend.
The urge to confront Peter there and then is so very strong but it would only drive a wedge between them that Stiles isn’t sure they could fix.
Sometimes people notice that they’re smiling and sharing things a lot more now, they know that if Stiles is going to be there, then there will be at least something snacky for anyone that pitches in with the “boring” work, and blankets are mandatory for chilling out with.
Mason, it turns out, is actually a pretty chill guy. He doesn’t mind that Peter and Stiles are much more tactile with each other than anyone else, and he’s always happy to search through books with them when they’re bitching back and forth; making up fake stories about impossible characters and just generally having a good time.
The day that he brought a tray bake of lasagna over to Stiles’ place and a bag of DVD’s was the day that the duo fully accepted him as a part of team “Psychos suck and should be avoided at all costs.” Realising that Mason was struggling just as much as Stiles himself had done with the Nogitsune, Peter and Stiles gave him all the tips and tricks that they used to combat daily life.
Stiles likes him enough that he offers him a job working alongside himself because the young teen really does have a passion for finding information, and taking him on lets them both work together sometimes, which is fun! When Stiles does the maths for it, he works out that together they start bringing in a little over double what Stiles was earning originally. After each job he gives Mason his cut, and uses the little extra to buy more groceries.
It’s not hard to convince Peter to teach him how to cook new things, the older male having a talent in the kitchen that’s hard not to envy. Stiles teaches Peter old family recipes in return on other nights, and they’ll end the night with smiles and full tummies, peanut butter and chocolate cookies cooling on the stove top.
Making sure that Peter’s got at least 3 decent meals in him a week is just the icing on the cake. There is also real icing, and real cake, and Peter licking it off Stiles’ thumb - but that’s beside the point. The point is, cooking together is - much more fun, and the meals after are always enjoyable. These not-quite-date-nights nearly always ending with not-quite-cuddles and a movie on the couch.
When Mason and Stiles have done a really good job together sometimes their regulars tip handsomely.
Every time this bonus happens, nice things like warm clothes and winter necessities start showing up on Peter’s doorstep, without fail. He looks the other way with a smile as Peter squints at him suspiciously.
The few hours of offish behaviour is worth it for the way that Peter will curl his arms around Stiles’ waist and rest his chin on Stiles’ shoulder from behind, fluffy scarf tickling them both.
Eventually, someone says something. Of course they do. No one can ever leave things well enough alone around here, can they?
Every time Stiles sees Peter wearing some of his clothing he’s filled with a mix of satisfaction and worry. There’s no debating that he’s happy that Peter’s accepting his little nudges but there’s still the worry that his friend hasn’t confided in him about anything that’s happening in private.
It’s one of Scott’s little pets that decides to notice what’s going on, and Stiles is this close to smacking Liam around the back of the head. He’s been poking his nose around where it doesn’t belong for weeks now to try and gain some of Scott’s approval. Tonight, the beta had stopped him, just before he was going to sit in the back room with Peter and Mason, with the dumbest words he’s graced Stiles with yet.
“Stiles, you have noticed that Peter’s always taking your stuff, right? I can talk to Scott for you, or do you want me to just tell him to get lost?” Liam says, hand on Stiles' shoulder, his frown deeply set in place. “It’s not right, I’m worried he’s using you.”
Peter momentarily freezes in his seat where he’s got a burrito halfway to his mouth. Stiles doesn’t have to be a wolf to notice how incredibly uncomfortable his friend has just become as he watches the other lower the food and put it back into the Tupperware box. Mason looks horrified at what his best friend has just said but doesn’t have time to react before Peter gets up and calmly walks past all of them and out the front door.
“Peter wait for me, I’m coming too.” Stiles calls out, voice carefully blank but there’s no doubting the rage that’s pouring off him in waves.
Forget slapping him. Stiles is going to stuff his slack jaw full of wolfsbane flowers and sew it shut if he doesn’t mind his own business.
Shrugging the hand off his shoulder, Stiles takes a small step backwards. “There are so many things wrong with what you just said that I don’t know where to begin. I think you do need to go and talk to Scott, about finding a new pack if you think that it’s even slightly ok to talk about a pack member like that. I share my things with Peter because he is my friend and I care about him. Seeing him happy makes me happy, and when the price of happiness is so small it’s not even a question of should I do this thing.”
Hands balled at his side, his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath and heads out after Peter. He doesn’t have to look far at all because the man is sat on the passenger seat of the Jeep leaning on the dashboard, head on his arms.
Cursing the young wolf with a passion that would make his father cringe, Stiles stomps over to the car and heaves himself in. “He’s such a fucking asshole.” He huffs, body deflating a little as he reaches out and rubs Peter’s back gently. He tenses a little at first touch but quickly goes limp under Stiles ministrations.
“If we’re lucky maybe he’ll fall in another hole and stay there.” Stiles whispers, pulling a small chuckle from the miserable wolf.
“Can we leave?” Peter asks quietly. “Just go. Anywhere else.”
Stiles nods and gets the engine running. It only takes a moment to strap up and they’re off. “I’m taking us home.”
Neither of them said much at all during the drive.
Getting home and putting the kettle on, Stiles watches Peter turn on the lights for the Christmas tree. Watching the glow of fairy lights on his wolf’s face sets off the flutter bugs in his stomach.
Neither of them are particularly religious but they still enjoy indulging in the little pleasures, and there’re only a few more days until the main event this year. The Sheriff is coming over to celebrate the first year in the apartment and Peter’s promised to help cook.
The look that Peter pins him with is the same amazed look that he had when Stiles suggested that he help him decorate the apartment with festive cheer, the look that says “I didn’t think I could have this again.”
Stiles finishes up their hot chocolates and takes them over, sitting them on the coffee table. Peter’s has a little candy cane sticking out the top that wobbles precariously as the mug moves. A little bit spills over the side but that’s not important right now.
“You know Liam’s full of shit right?” Stiles stresses, needing to make sure that Peter fully accepts what Stiles said earlier. “I don’t know how much you heard when you left but I mean it, you really are my friend, and I wouldn’t swap you with anyone else.” He swallows hard as Peter steps right up close, practically toe to toe.
“I know.” The wolf, says quietly, eyes fixed on Stiles’ “But… just your friend?” He teases, leaning in for a kiss.
Stiles stumbles back a little, brow furrowing in confusion. “Peter?”
Peter stills, eyes half-lidded but also incredibly confused. “I- don’t understand. I thought - your courting gifts? I accepted them? The nest-”
“-scenting, and the providing/feeding element, oh my God, I didn’t even think about that.” Stiles finishes his sentence. “I didn’t think you cared about traditional courting !” The young man stresses, one hand out towards the sofa, other tangled in his short hair.
“I didn’t… then you started and I thought-” He alludes, looking away. The disappointment and rejection is clear on his face and in the way that he stands, body angling towards the shortest route to the exit. “I should go.”
“Wait, wait, no, please, hang on.” Stiles stumbles over his words, hand out towards Peters making little grabby motions, sighing a little when he needs to step back towards the wolf and physically take it himself.
“I am clearly shit at this, but I really, really, like you - Peter. You’re my best friend , please don’t go.”
Peter looks back up, watching his friend plead and he can feel the sincerity behind it.
“You are my best friend and I would be honoured if you would let me court you properly, both the wolf and the man. Ok?” Stiles grins and bends his knees a little so that he’s looking up at the other. “Please, let me try this again. I didn’t want to pressure you into anything because I know that you know, that I know about your current situation. I’m an asshole, but I didn’t want to be that kind of asshole.” He explains, clinging to Peter’s hand like a lifeline.
It takes a moment to sink in but when it does Peter’s entire body relaxes. He doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, he pushes Stiles back onto the sofa and straddles his thighs, lips colliding in a passionate kiss that’s long overdue.
“So- Is that a yes?” Stiles grins between kisses. “Do I get my Christmas wish?”
“Merry Christmas, Stiles.” Peter sighs happily.