Work Text:
Teen Wolf || Stetopher || The Mystery of the Moonlight Mysteries || Stetopher || Teen Wolf
Title: The Mystery of the Moonlight Mysteries – Stiles Summer Stories 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/m, polyamory, author Chris, Erica Lives, Boyd Lives, post-Nogitsune, fluff
Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles
Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Chris Argent, Peter Hale, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Malia Tate, Kira Yukimura
Writer’s Month Prompts 2026: plants + river
Summary: Beacon Hills had a new mystery to solve: Who among them was writing a supernatural murder mystery book series about their lives? Considering the romantic leads were based off of Stiles and Peter, Stiles suspects Peter… and Peter suspects Stiles. Both are wrong.
The Mystery of the Moonlight Mysteries
Stiles Summer Stories 2026
One of Stiles’ favorite books was Murder Mystery in the Moonlight, by C. Alexander Valet. It was a very cleverly written supernatural murder mystery. Written in a perspective that left the reader wondering for half the book who was being murdered and who was going to be the murderer as it introduced two characters – a hiker lost in the woods, finding shelter in a cabin – and the man who had rented the cabin – a dangerous man with a gun. Both were hiding something and Stiles had excitedly spent the first half of the book wondering if the hiker was going to kill the man in the cabin, or if the hiker was a helpless victim who had been stranded with a killer.
By the middle of the book it turned out that neither of them was the murderer or the victim. The hiker was actually private investigator Julian Milano and the one in the cabin was Detective Dylan Doherty. The two became unlikely allies in hunting a rogue werewolf. Or, Julian was hunting the rogue werewolf. Dylan had no idea about the supernatural, he was hunting a murderer.
Stiles loved it. He’d read it over and over again. And even though he knew the twist, he was still captivated by it every time. So when there was a surprise sequel released years later, Stiles bought it right away. It helped that it had been released in the summer after the Argent basement. When all Stiles wanted to do was curl together and escape. Books were a beautiful way of escaping, especially while his best friend was too busy mooning over the huntress who’d broken up with him.
There was something weirdly comforting about Gunshots at the Golden Hour. Because it gave Stiles back two characters he loved, it widened the world. But it also resonated with him after the past couple months. Murders, seemingly unconnected, executed by someone being puppeteered. It also introduced a hunter, David Rom, who started as Dylan’s new partner. Turned out the reason Dylan had been hunting the werewolf in the first book was because it had bitten and hospitalized Dylan’s partner and best friend, who was benched for now, hospital and rehab, but the truth he was hiding was that he had been turned into a werewolf and was struggling with his control.
Stiles devoured the book, found comfort in it throughout the summer. The new school year didn’t go much better. Between the Alpha Pack and the Darach, Stiles had his hands full. So did the pack. Saving Erica and Boyd, discovering Cora, losing the Hale Alpha spark… Stiles was tired.
So when, a couple months after that disaster, in the middle of too many sleepless nights haunted by nightmares of creaking doors and bandaged figures, a new book was released, Stiles burrowed away in it, trying to find comfort again. The Mob Murders at Midnight introduced a union of Alphas acting like a mafia-type organization. It gave Stiles more pause, because it seemed a little too familiar. It was still comforting, the way Julian and Dylan were growing closer, working together. Learning more about the characters, and more background characters being introduced.
And then Stiles found out he was possessed by the Nogitsune, which seemed much more important than any of that. The books and any parallel to their life was forgotten in the face of all the death and trauma. The bomb at the station. Aiden. Stiles was tired, exhausted and haunted.
The Benefactor and assassins were next. And Stiles got to curl together with the fourth book, Dark Druid in the Daylight. At which point the parallels became undeniable. The Darach was so clearly their Darach. But it was the way the author knew things they shouldn’t be able to know that was getting unsettling. Julian tore out the Darach’s throat. At which point Stiles made a conspiracy board to figure out the identities of every character from the book.
“I think you might be losing your mind. Again,” Kira noted softly.
“Yeah, I’m actually siding with Vixen on this one,” Erica agreed, a frown on her face.
“No,” Stiles slapped his conspiracy board. “Peter is Julian Milano. The wolf out for revenge. He killed one of the Rom hunters in book two. He tore out the Darach’s throat. He was the one to know about the past of Gideon and the Alpha Pack. It’s all Peter. Plus, Peter’s grandmother is actually Italian so I think the ‘Milano’ is a nod toward that. I’m telling you, these books are based on our lives and I am sure that Peter is the author.”
“Yeah, Stiles, I think you’re reaching,” Boyd sighed. “You are overworked, you still haven’t worked through your trauma from the Nogitsune and you’re… conflating your crush on a fictional character with your feelings for Peter. Projecting.”
“Feelings for Peter,” Stiles’ voice pitched. “The only feelings I have for Peter are contempt, annoyance and the urge to set him on fire again!”
“Could have fooled me,” Erica muttered softly. “You two flirt all the time.”
“We fight all the time,” Stiles corrected her. “We are trading barbs and insults and thinly veiled threats. He continuously mocks and insults me.”
“He calls you ‘sweetheart’ most of the time,” Kira pointed out. “You insult him.”
“Oh, please,” Stiles snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s being sarcastic. Every word from his lips is dripping with sarcasm. He couldn’t be more condescending if he actively tried.”
Erica and Kira exchanged a look that Stiles opted to ignore. Boyd sighed and cleared his throat.
“How about we try to focus on the Benefactor mystery for now?” Boyd suggested.
Okay maybe his friends had a bit of a point that this conspiracy was a great distraction from the very real and very terrifying danger they were all in. Lydia was slowly losing her mind, haunted by all the voices, by the call of this deadpool. Everyone was stretched thin. And Malia, freshly integrated into the pack, was struggling with the fact that Peter was her father. Stiles was also struggling with that, but then Stiles was struggling with a lot lately.
/break\
Stiles startled when a book was put down loudly on his desk. He blinked sleepily and looked around. He must have nodded off. He still avoided sleep as best as he could. The deadpool may have ended – when Lydia and Stiles got kidnapped and nearly killed by Brunski, when Meredith revealed herself to be the Benefactor, when they sent her straight back to Eichen and got Peter’s money back – but that didn’t exactly let him sleep easier. Mostly due to the part where he had, once again, nearly died at Eichen House.
Rubbing his face, he looked at the book that had woken him up. The cover was pretty, the black silhouette of trees left and right, with a fox in the middle. Behind the silhouettes was the orange to yellow fade of a sunset, black letters sat on the sky reading Fox Fire in Fall. Biting his lip, Stiles traced the title and the author’s name. C. Alexander Valet. He tapped his fingers against it.
“Have you read it yet?” Kira asked eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Stiles’ fingers tapped against the fox. “No. I… wasn’t much in the mood for foxes. No offense.”
Kira’s eyes softened. “None taken, I know which fox is the problem. But I’ve read it. And… I agree with you. These books are definitely about our pack. This one is about the Nogitsune.”
That had Stiles’ breath hitch some. He rubbed his face. Great. Just great. Someone was writing about their lives, airing their struggles for all the world to read. And now his trauma?
“We do, however, still not believe that Peter is the author,” Boyd declared.
Stiles cocked one eyebrow and looked behind Kira. Boyd, Erica and… Lydia and Malia… Okay, that was a very different lineup. Those did not usually come in a set. Stiles raised his eyebrows at them, because generally, Boyd and Eric stuck more to Stiles, Cora and Isaac. Lately also Kira and Malia, largely due to the fact that Malia was badass and Peter’s daughter (Erica was the number one Peter fan. Stiles had threatened to disown her for it. She did not change her ways), but the former Hale Pack didn’t play too well with Lydia, Allison and Scott still (which, on account of Scott being the Alpha, was a problem. One that Stiles was going to procrastinate and ignore until it became A Problem and he’d need to figure out what to do with his Hales. For now, living in proximity to an Alpha, especially one as inexperienced in pack things and pack bonds as Scott, was enough).
“It’s a mystery we need to solve,” Erica shrugged. “So I brought the smart people. Lydia, Malia and Kira. This is also why I left Isaac, Jackson and Scott at home.”
Stiles snorted at that and grinned a little. His grin grew more when he saw Malia preen at that. She was smart. She was really damn smart, because not many people could miss all of middle school and just jump right into junior year at high school like that. Sure, her grades were bad, but those grades did not reflect her intelligence, if anything, the fact that they weren’t all failing grades showed just how smart she was.
“So you want to help me with this investigation?” Stiles asked with a grin.
“Things are finally calm,” Lydia nodded. “I’m bored. So I might as well do this, whatever it is. And yes, I have read the books. And… yes, I do agree with you that they are based off our pack. At least, the second book and forward. The first one not so much. It’s also too old, so unless it would have been written by a banshee, it would have been peculiar for that one to be about us.”
Stiles nodded and got his conspiracy wall out. He’d had pictures of the pack, with labels for which character seemed most likely to be them, colorful threads linking them to the plots, the parallels between the books and real life noted along the threads.
“...Why are you unlabeled, Stiles?” Lydia asked, judgment evident in her voice.
“Haven’t figured out which of the minor characters is me yet. Or maybe I didn’t make the Creeperwolf’s cut as an important character, being the sidekick in reality,” Stiles muttered.
“...Okay, guess I have to uninvite you from this meeting and might be calling Isaac after all,” Erica snorted. “Minor character my ass. You’re literally the lead.”
“No,” Stiles pointed at the picture of Peter. “Peter is the lead. Peter is Julian Milano. The Alpha werewolf on a revenge spree. His ‘younger brother’ Tyler and his ‘younger sister’ Addie are clearly Derek and Cora. He didn’t change much, it’s simple.”
“Yes, Peter is definitely Julian, but you are Dylan,” Erica took the yarn from Stiles and linked his and Peter’s image before scribbling Dylan Doherty under Stiles’ photo. “Like, so obviously. The sarcastic, smart-mouthed detective who figures out the cases? Who got dragged into the supernatural when his partner at the PD got bitten by a feral werewolf? Hello?”
“...But that part happened in the first book, which as we established isn’t about us,” Stiles argued. “So, clearly, Dylan wasn’t based on me. I was like eight when that book was published.”
“Dylan between books one and two changed,” Boyd pointed out. “He was sharp-tongued before too, but honestly, Dylan and Julian were very similar. They only got more distinct in the newer books. And Dylan’s brand of sarcasm is your brand of sarcasm.”
“Also, uhm, the new book? Dylan gets possessed by a Nogitsune,” Kira added softly.
Stiles sat down heavily and slowly on his bed. “Oh.”
Stiles kind of tuned them out as they added clues given in the latest book onto his wall. He was Dylan. Or later books Dylan was him. It did make sense. He’d never really cared too much about the changes between book one and two, because he’d figured so many years in real life had passed between writing them and the author probably just had a slightly different idea of how Dylan was supposed to act. Though after his theory of Julian being based on Peter and, more importantly, Peter being the author, he had assumed Dylan to be a fictionalized idealized mate for the wolf. Leave it up to Peter to create a Gary-Stu to get mated to in his books.
“...Is that Creeperwolf seriously writing a gay romance about us?” Stiles whispered baffled.
The others turned to look at him at that and then exchanged mildly confused looks. “What?”
“Dylan and Julian are really obviously pining for each other,” Stiles waved his hands around. “Like, when Julian’s ex David was introduced? Dylan got super jealous. Which, for the record, I would not. I have no reason to get jealous of Peter’s exes. But yeah, there was heavy tension in these books from the get go, it’s just been thickening lately.”
“I think someone is spending too much time on AO3,” Erica pointed out. “But good for you.”
“Sexual tension or lack thereof aside,” Lydia made a dismissive hand-gesture. “Peter can’t be the author, Stiles. He was dead for a substantial part of book two.”
“So what?” Stiles huffed. “He heard all about it from the pack. From multiple members of the pack. Also, saw a lot while he was haunting you. Plus, just, the fact that the books separate the feral Alpha who bit Scott-slash-Joey from the dashing Alpha werewolf seeking vengeance? Come on.”
“No, that’s more a point in Lydia’s favor,” Malia argued. “Dad’s never shied away from what he did when he was feral. He always points out that he was insane and feral when it happened, and that he’s much better now, but he never tried to pretend he didn’t do it.”
Stiles opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, because he had no argument to counter that. Malia was right. He’d always owned what he did. Was proud of the murders and excused the ‘collateral damage’ with his feral and insane state, but he never pretended it didn’t happen.
“I think the key is to figure out who isn’t in the books,” Boyd suggested.
Stiles huffed, pouting just a little because he remained sure that this had to be Peter. But he did listen to his friends’ theories and read through their new additions to the wall. He also really needed to read the new book to see for himself. And he needed a private moment to freak out about being Dylan, because that was one of his favorite fictional characters? (And another moment to freak out about Julian being based on Peter, because that was one of his biggest fictional character crushes.)
/break\
A pleased grin was spread over Peter’s lips as he ran his fingers along the cover of the book. Fox Fire in Fall was all the confirmation he’d needed. His clever boy was writing a murder mystery book series about himself and Peter slowly falling in love. He laid the book on his chest and folded both his arms behind his head. His gaze wandered up to the blue sky. A warm breeze was whistling through the grass and plants around him, the river he was laying beside was gurgling lightly. He loved reading out in the preserve, had always sought out the river to read, even as a child.
“Why are you lazying around out here, Peter?”
Not even the annoyed voice of Christopher could destroy his mood today. No, not after this realization. Stiles wanted him. Why else would he be writing books about them both falling in love? And Julian Milano and Dylan Doherty were very obviously Peter and Stiles and they were also very obviously falling in love. In fact, he’d say that Julian was already as smitten as Peter. Which would feel like Siles mocking him, if Dylan’s feelings weren’t as clear.
“If you must know, nosy hunter, I am enjoying the good weather and reading a good book.”
Peter tapped the book on his chest a few times and then leaned his head back, basking in the sun. The weather was very nice today and one had to enjoy the fact that there were no more assassins trying to kill them every turn. Chris made a strange noise, staring down at him.
“You… read that?” Chris asked, vaguely judgmental.
“It’s a great series,” Peter shrugged. “And now that I figured out who the author is…”
“You have,” Chris gave a grunt and his heartbeat jumped.
Mh. So Christopher also knew. Was he being judgmental about the Peter-Stiles romance? Or rather, jealous? After all, he was quite obviously attracted to Stiles, couldn’t hide it from the wolf even if he tried. Perhaps he was upset that Stiles clearly wanted Peter.
“It’s painfully obvious at this point that it’s Stiles,” Peter chuckled. “The story is about him and me. I didn’t write it, which means it has to be him. Who else would want to write about the two of us solving supernatural murders while falling in love? Tell me that going on daring adventures and solving supernatural murders doesn’t sound like Stiles’ dream career.”
“...It does,” Chris admitted gruffly, the smallest fond smile on his lips.
Peter huffed softly and sat up. Truly, Christopher was painfully obvious about his affections for Stiles. It was a miracle that Stiles himself hadn’t caught on with it yet. But then that beautiful, clever boy could be surprisingly oblivious when it came to these matters. Peter was convinced that Stiles didn’t understand how in love Peter was with him just yet. Though the book made it look like Stiles understood the love was mutual, it may also be a hopelessly pining Stiles projecting and wishing for it to be true. Which would mean Peter needed to confess after all.
“See,” Peter smiled pleased and put the book into his bag. “It makes perfect sense.”
“Stiles was a kid when the first book was released,” Chris pointed out.
“Oh, please,” Peter huffed out a laugh at that. “If anyone could be a prodigy who published a best selling murder mystery book at age eight, it would be Stiles. He is the clever boy.”
“Murder mystery, Peter,” Chris said with emphasis. “Now? Maybe. But at age eight?”
Peter’s brows furrowed in judgment. “Christopher, don’t be daft. You know exactly how clever that boy is and you also know nothing can keep him away from danger of places he’s not supposed to be at. You really think he hasn’t already been at multiple murder scenes by the time he was eight and probably solved them himself too. It’s Stiles.”
Chris crossed his arms and shifted uncomfortably. “...I suppose you have a point there.”
Peter chuckled and got up. His gaze wandered to the river, watching it as far as he could see it, the way it sneaked through the preserve. He used to run along this river with his siblings, chasing each other, giggling and laughing. His heart clenched at the memory.
“What’s wrong, wolf?” Chris asked, voice softer. “You look…”
Shaking his head, Peter straightened his clothes. “It’s nothing. Just some… old memories.”
A hand rested on his arm, making Peter look up at Chris. The hunter’s eyes were still as exceptionally blue as Peter remembered. Once upon a time, long ago, Peter had had a bad crush on the bad boy senior two grades above him. He smiled faintly at that memory.
“Let’s get back out of the preserve together,” Chris suggested.
“What are you doing here?” Peter asked curiously, one eyebrow raised. “Surely you didn’t come out here just to collect me… right?”
“I was by the loft to return one of your books and Derek said he didn’t know where you were. That you had left for the preserve hours ago and he hadn’t heard from you since then,” Chris shrugged and turned away from him. “I figured I’d check if you’re still alive.”
“How chivalrous of you, Christopher,” Peter snorted amused.
/break\
Chris was going to lose his mind here. He had never meant for things to get so out of hand. When he had written Gunshots at the Golden Hour, it had been his way of working through what had happened. The realization that his sister had laid the fire, the loss of Victoria, the way Gerard had twisted Allison, the general return of Chris’ abusive father into his life. It was a lot and he’d always used his writing to work through his issues.
But then there was Stiles. Loud and angry, brave and smart. When he’d yelled in Chris’ face about the fire, he had left an impression on Chris. And when Chris had freed Stiles from the basement, there was more than just guilt that Chris had felt. He had been impressed by Stiles’ bravery. The way he had held his own against Gerard, had protected his pack.
Stiles had reminded him of Dylan and had, for the first time in years, made Chris want to pick up that story again. It was childish perhaps, how he had written Murder Mystery in the Moonlight back in the day to deal with his hopeless feelings for Peter. Writing about a werewolf and a hunter falling in love with each other. Not that he’d ever gotten that far, oh no. but Dylan had very much been meant to be a hunter when he first started writing. He’d just… put the story aside, after the first book. Life had taken him elsewhere, physically and emotionally.
It probably said a lot about how fucked up Chris was that he was reworking a story that once upon a time was supposed to be wish fulfillment of himself and Peter together and turning it into a love story between both men he loved. Leaving himself out of the equation. Maybe because he knew he didn’t deserve either of them, maybe because he thought they were a much better fit for each other than either of them with him. Maybe because he wasn’t meant to be happy.
“You do know that at this point, everyone in the pack has read the books, right?”
Chris looked up startled, finding Isaac in the doorway. The wolf had his arms crossed and his eyebrows raised. Heaving a deep sigh, Chris rubbed his face. He’d feared as much when he had found Peter reading the latest book out at the river. He turned to look at Isaac again, frowning.
“I assumed. How bad is it really, kid?” Chris asked reluctantly.
Isaac’s lips twisted into a smirk and he shook his head. That wasn’t too promising. Chris rubbed his face in frustration. He should have never published them. But with Kate dead, Victoria dead and Chris having turned his back on his father, he had needed the money. Had published the book he had written to deal with things and it was a surprising hit. It turned out people had been desperately waiting for a sequel and the changes he had made to how things had originally been planned, well, most of that had been in Chris’ head and never made it onto the page at all (like Dylan being a hunter), and the twists of characterization had been easily accepted too. And then more things went down and he wrote another book. And another one. And another.
“Three running theories right now,” Isaac announced, a truly shit-eating grin on his face. “Some people think that Stiles is the author, since Dylan is very obviously Stiles. Other people think that Peter is the author – Stiles included – since Peter is obviously Julian, and is also very obviously pining for Stiles. Or being a Creeperwolf, as Stiles puts it. With those two being the leads, they are the most likely suspects, so most bets are on them.”
“What’s the third theory?” Chris asked with a certain sense of dread.
“Banshee predictions,” Isaac shrugged. “What with the first book having been written so long before Peter and Stiles met, a third party thinks that some banshee was having visions about us.”
“So nobody is suspecting me then? And you haven’t told anyone either?”
“This is way too fun to watch unfold,” Isaac snorted and shook his head. “No, I haven’t told anyone. And nobody suspects you, because, well, why would you write about Peter and Stiles? If you’d written it, it should be about you, or at least about Allison, mh?”
Chris heaved a relieved sigh and sank lower on his chair. So for now, he was safe. He had no idea how to deal with it if everyone knew he had written these books. If Stiles and Peter knew. How could he possibly explain why he was writing about them, and about them romantically? Since they had seemed to catch on with that aspect of the books too. Even though he was being subtle so far. The two hadn’t expressed any feelings yet, hadn’t even kissed. But the subtext was there, was heavy, was undeniable for those well-versed in gay yearning.
“You should tell them,” Isaac said after a long moment. “Before they figure it out themselves. Despite how dumb they are being, they’re actually both pretty smart. They will figure it out sooner or later. Especially if they ever do confront each other about it.”
Chris made a face and ran his fingers through his hair. He would like to avoid that. Isaac only knew because Allison had told him, because Isaac was living with them now. Was family now.
/break\
Stiles took a deep breath as he entered the loft. It was due time he confronted Peter about these damn books. The pack had a book club at this point. Even people who usually didn’t read – at all, or at least not fiction, or murder mysteries – had read them by now.
“Stiles,” Derek looked unimpressed. “You’ve been standing outside the door for five minutes.”
Fucking werewolves. Stiles made a face and glared at the Sourwolf. He closed the door behind himself and stalked up to Derek. The wolf was sitting on the couch, a smirk now curling on his lips.
“What can I do for you, Little Red?” Derek asked.
“Not here for you, Sourwolf,” Stiles huffed. “I want to talk to a different Hale.”
“Cora isn’t home,” Derek’s smirk grew, like he knew exactly that Stiles wasn’t here for her.
“The Creeperwolf,” Stiles threw his hands up in the air in frustration.
Predictably did steps lead down the staircase at that. Because of course had Peter been lurking about, waiting for the most dramatic entrance moment. Stiles scowled annoyed as he watched the wolf climb down the stairs, pervertedly deep-cut v-neck hugging his chest in a mouthwatering way, strong thighs moving step for step. It would be so much easier if Peter didn’t look like he had stepped out of one of Stiles’ wet dreams. What would be easier? Everything! Hating him, being annoyed with him, not being attracted to him. Truly everything.
“Sweetheart,” Peter smiled pleased. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m going on a run. A very long run, very far away from here,” Derek declared as he got up from the couch. “And I’ll text before I get back. But… don’t do anything in the living room or anywhere else where I can smell, I swear I’ll make you pay for it otherwise.”
“What?” Stiles frowned confused at the wolf, but Derek was already out of the loft.
Still frowning, Stiles turned back to Peter. And when seeing the Creeperwolf shrug and smirk, Stiles was fully focused on Peter again. That was why he was here. The wolf who was writing weird murdery romance about them – which was just so Peter, honestly.
“Everyone has read the books by now,” Stiles stated, trying to be calm.
“Yes, they have,” Peter looked all the more smug at that.
“Oh, stop gloating, Creeperwolf,” Stiles glared annoyed.
“Gloating?” Peter cocked one eyebrow. “I suppose you could call it that. But to be fair, how could I not be a little… smug… about the fact that, despite all your denial, you are in love with me. So much so that you’re writing about us. It’s quite flattering.”
“...Huh?” Stiles blinked confused.
His sudden confusion must be showing because the smugness left Peter’s face. “That is why you’re here, isn’t it, darling? To finally admit to it, to confess to me, now that everyone around you knows that you’re in love with me, and writing about us?”
“What,” Stiles continued blinked. “No. I’m here to confront you, because you have been writing about us falling in love, which is just so you, Creeperwolf. Is this like… you trying to deflect?”
“I didn’t write these books,” Peter frowned deeply. “I was dead for the duration of the second one.”
“But you heard all about it from everyone!” Stiles argued. “And I was eight when the first one was written, so, like that makes even less sense, dude!”
“Why would I write about something I didn’t even witness,” Peter sighed. “And you’re the clever one, why wouldn’t you have been capable of writing a book at that age?”
Silence stretched on between them as they stared at each other, trying to figure out if the other was lying to them. Stiles caved first, because there was no way Peter would try to lie about this. He’d be smug about it, brag about it, try to use it to seduce him.
“If you didn’t write these books and I didn’t write these books…” Stiles trailed off tensely.
“Then who is writing about the two of us?” Peter furrowed his brows. “Who would be writing a romance about us, specifically…? Why?”
“Erica is kind of a fujoshi,” Stiles muttered with narrowed eyes. “And she weirdly likes you.”
“A what now?” Peter frowned at him in confusion.
“Never mind,” Stiles shook his head. “Not explaining that to you.”
“Well,” Peter tilted his head. “How do you feel about joining forces, then? To figure out which of the pack wants the two of us to kiss even more than we do?”
“I do not want to kiss you, Creeperwolf,” Stiles glared at Peter.
“Darling, I can hear when you lie, especially when it’s such an obvious lie,” Peter smirked smugly.
“Oh, shut up,” Stiles flushed in annoyance and embarrassment. “You’re attractive, that’s just a fact. Look at yourself in a damn mirror. So I may be attracted to you, may want to kiss you, so wha-”
He was cut off by Peter’s lips against his. His eyes widened and his hands pressed against Peter’s chest, every intention to push him away. But then there was a tongue tracing his lips and for some reason, instead of pushing him away, Stiles’ hands curled into Peter’s shirt to pull him closer. He opened his mouth, letting Peter’s tongue in, giving himself to the overwhelming sensation of kissing Peter Hale. Hands landed on his hips, big and strong, pulling him closer and holding him in place.
“What the fuck did you do that for,” Stiles asked, panting hard when their kiss broke.
“You finally admitted that you’re attracted to me. That you want to kiss me,” Peter pointed out. “I have always accepted your lies. When you refused the bite, even though you wanted it. I didn’t bite you. I knew you were lying to yourself more so than me, the same goes for your attraction to me. I wasn’t going to act on it in any way until you were ready to admit it. And you just did.”
“I hate you so much,” Stiles muttered in frustration.
“Yet another lie, sweetheart,” Peter hummed delighted.
His hands were still on Stiles’ hips and they weighed heavy. Stiles’ heart was racing. This up close, Peter’s eyes were even more blue than Stiles had ever realized. Not the supernatural blue. His human eyes. Ice blue and so intense. Stiles’ fingers tightened in Peter’s shirt and pulled him into another kiss. In for one, why not more. Wouldn’t make this any more complicated or worse.
“I adore you,” Peter whispered against his lips when they parted again.
“Right,” Stiles frowned at the wolf. “That’s…”
“Relax, love,” Peter chuckled and gave his hips a squeeze. “I’m not expecting you to confess your undying love to me just yet. You clearly need more time. It’s fine. I can wait for you.”
“You’re horrible,” Stiles groaned, leaning his head on Peter’s shoulder. “Why can’t I hate you?”
“Mh,” Peter sounded pleased. “Getting closer and closer to the truth.”
“Oh, shut up,” Stiles gave him a mild shove. “What do we do about the books?”
“Work together to figure out who wrote them,” Peter shrugged. “Though now that I have you, I find myself much less interested in finding out. I thought the books were a means to get you.”
“Creepy,” Stiles muttered, not moving out of Peter’s hold.
Peter chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of Stiles’ head and while their earlier kisses were passionate and burning, this was so soft that it made Stiles’ heart skip a beat. This wasn’t good.
/break\
Pack meetings had always been a pain for Chris. He’d attended the first ones as an ally, to share his information and be kept in the loop. Now, as a member of the pack, he had to attend. However, the majority of these meetings was not exactly about anything important. Lot of school gossip, lover’s quarrels and overall arguments. Pack meetings during downtime when they weren’t facing an actual threat were usually all about the latter list and nothing important at all. It was more a group of friends hanging out and Chris, he didn’t exactly belong with the teenagers.
Today’s pack meeting however was even worse than usual. Because instead of keeping a room between them and snarking at Peter, Stiles sat close to the wolf, constantly touching in some way. There was blushing involved too. Apparently, Peter and Stiles had finally figured out that attraction and tension between them. Chris wanted to be happy for them, but all he felt was… lonely and sad.
When the pack meeting ended, Chris wanted to flee as fast as he could. He did, too. But with Isaac bringing Erica and Boyd home with him, Chris didn’t feel like going home himself. He needed some time alone to digest. Come to terms with it. So he headed out, into the preserve, for a stroll.
“You weren’t meant to just sneak off on us.”
Chris startled and turned around, finding himself face to face with Peter and Stiles. The two looked so good together, it was kind of devastating. The wolf had an arm around Stiles’ waist, with Stiles leaning against him. It was still new between them, Chris could tell, but they were also already very comfortable with each other so he guessed that it wasn’t as new as it appeared.
“We figured it out,” Stiles continued, smirking. “That you’re the author.”
“What,” Chris went tense, the rushing of the river next to them all the louder in his ears.
“You know, Stiles and I, we only got together because we ended up accusing each other,” Peter chuckled. “We then agreed to work together to figure out who the real author is and… if we hadn’t worked together, we wouldn’t have figured it out, I suppose. Because despite being my clever boy, Stiles was very oblivious to your feelings for him.”
“Says the wolf with the supernatural senses who should be able to tell how attracted you are to him,” Stiles snorted and shot Peter a look before turning toward Chris again. “So, once we put together that you like me and Peter, it… made you a prime suspect. Today was a test. So far, we have been keeping things on the down-low, we only kind of got together a few weeks ago and I’m still a bit… you know… about the whole thing. But I wanted to test how you would react to actually seeing us together. I thought that’d be the best confirmation before confronting you. I… didn’t expect you to run out on us though,” Stiles’ eyes softened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Neither did I,” Peter added. “And I… had no idea. I always thought my crush on you was onesided, back in high school. And ever since you returned, well, with that wife of yours…”
“You were always the inspiration for Julian,” Chris blurted out, helpless in the face of Peter’s blue eyes. “I didn’t… plan for Stiles, or anticipate him. If I had continued the series back then, Dylan… Dylan would have taken more of a hunter turn. But then I met this… brave, brash boy and…”
“Huh,” Stiles sucked in his lips, dragging it slowly through his teeth. “I am having really weird feelings about you being the author of my favorite book – which, the first one does remain my favorite, fyi – but I also had feelings for you, unrelated to the books, for a while now.”
Stiles blushed and Chris stared. He was out of words, which was rare for the author. Peter stepped up to him and cupped his neck. He pulled the hunter into a kiss and… that spoke louder than words could. When they broke for air, Stiles elbowed Peter out of the way and pulled Chris into a kiss of their own. This… wasn’t an option Chris had ever considered. That he could have either of them, much less both. But the way they looked at him, maybe he could have this. He smiled softly.
~*~ The End ~*~