Derek let out a sigh as he looked over at Stiles. “Yes…but not for long enough” he murmurs.
Rolling his eyes, Stiles huffed out something akin to a laugh as he shifted in the passenger seat of the Camaro. “Any movement in there? Is this stake out coming to fruition? Is there any coffee left?”
5. A Confession
There’s a long moment from the time Stiles opens the door, to when he actually steps aside to let Peter into his home. Every instinct in his body surges to the forefront, willing him to stop and listen to reason, but his blood is pumping with adrenaline and singing with some bone deep need.
He can’t turn back now. Not with Peter over the threshold, standing in his living room with some expectant look on his face, like Stiles will break from some unseen pressure. Stiles won’t. Not under the want pulsing beneath his skin, and not under the crushing blue gaze in front of him. No matter what Peter said before, Stiles knows there is some strength in him. A strength to stand tall in the face of adversity, and a strength to understand his own will.
"Come upstairs," Stiles speaks, his voice low as he begins to make his way to his bedroom. Putting a predator at his back isn’t smart, but if he can trust Peter to come into his home, then he can at least trust him not to maul him in the living room.
The trudge is quick, Peter silent behind him as Stiles opens his bedroom door to usher the older (just how much older, Stiles certainly wasn’t going to dwell on, he’d made it this far, after all) man in. His fingers brushed over Peter’s elbow as he moved past, and Stiles couldn’t help the spark that passed between them.
"I do need you." The words come out unbidden, drawing an aborted wince from Stiles as he turned to face Peter, the shnick of the door closing the only sound in the room.
He couldn’t look the wolf in the eyes, couldn’t unclench his fists against his own percieved weakness, couldn’t breathe. "I don’t know what, or why, or—" He cut himself off there to try for a gasped breath, "But I need you… Peter.”
The words released an aching sigh that didn’t comfort, didn’t satiate, didn’t warm him. Stiles didn’t have to wait for the hands to reach out and pull him in, but in that moment, he felt whole.
- A kiss
- A steamy kiss
- Me for one night
- A slap to the face
- A confession
- Me for two nights
- A harsh insult
- An angry/jealous text
- Drunk voice mail
- 4 days with me chained to their bed
- A hug
- A pat on the back
- A kitten
- Up to mun