Chapter Text
--- (Friday)
Peter wakes up like he normally does but with the recent addition of a kitten sleeping soundly on his chest. It’s a nice addition, one he’s rapidly growing increasingly fond of. He doesn’t think he would like it much if the kitten decided to run away again. His heart almost stopped the day before, sensing that something wasn’t right and he woke up alone. The kitten was eyeing the open window with far too much contemplation for Peter’s liking when he found him on the back of the couch.
He almost thought about closing the window then, preventing further temptation, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Thought it would serve him right if he wasn’t allowed to have this.
The tiny creature is sleeping so soundly that Peter doesn’t have the heart to wake him; instead, he carefully gets up from the bed and sets him back down in the center of it, the covers still warm from his body heat. He strokes a careful hand down the kitten’s back and watches as he sleeps through the movements.
Peter heads to the bathroom to start his morning routine and take a shower. He steps under the hot spray and lets it relax him; warm him, before lathering his body and washing his hair. It’s not long until he’s shutting off the water again and wrapping himself in a towel. Brushing his teeth and then leaving the steamy confines of the bathroom.
The sight that greets him is not one that he could say he was ever expecting, at least not right now.
Where he had left a small bundle of chocolate fur now resides a very naked Stiles, all long lean muscle and creamy pale skin speckled with moles that could be constellations in a clear night sky. The boy is on his stomach and seems completely unaware of Peter’s presence in the room.
He can't help that his cock takes an interested twitch at the offering of bare flesh before him.
Peter is surprised, and that is a rarity nowadays, Stiles had hidden what he was so well that Peter would have never even suspected. He can't even say that he’s mad for having not known, but rather is humbled by the trust that Stiles has unknowingly shown him.
It’s not often that a shifter, especially a born one as Stiles must be, would lose their full shift in the middle of sleeping.
No, that speaks to something more instinctual, more intrinsic, there’s trust there, and safety too, whether Stiles is aware of it or not.
Peter runs a hand, feather-light, along Stiles’ back, feeling the softness of his skin for what might now be the only time he’ll be allowed to, and Stiles stretches out like the cat he is, seeking out the touches, arching his back into it. It’s wanton and breathlessly beautiful.
“Gorgeous sweetheart,” he breathes out as his hand comes away, lifting just at the curve of Stiles’ ass.
It was too much, the words startle Stiles and Stiles hisses out a curse and immediately shifts, fluid and flawless, and scampers off the bed to hide under the large dresser in the room.
Peter sighs internally, checking his emotions and scenting the air quickly, there’s the spike of shock-fear-embarrassment before it dissipates. Peter takes a moment to marvel at the fact that with Stiles shifted he can't smell the boy at all anymore, the scent of him from before disappearing on the air, and now just the scent of the kitten he’s grown accustomed to.
He huffs in amusement and gets down on the floor on his belly to look at Stiles under the dresser, the poor dear is cowering in the back corner, furthest from Peter’s reach, curled in a tight ball and shaking like a leaf.
“Really Stiles,” he says fondly with an amusedly arched eyebrow.
Peter backs away, getting clothes out for himself, dressing, and then leaving a pair of sleep pants and a shirt for Stiles on the bed.
“I left you some clothes, sweetheart, you can come out when you’re ready,” Peter says quietly before leaving the bedroom.
He busies himself with making a small breakfast and eating it at the counter in the kitchen. He doesn't want to press Stiles, wants to give him all the time he needs but he can't help that he feels increasingly worried with each minute that passes that he doesn't even hear any movement from the bedroom.
What he does hear is cause enough for concern. Stiles’ breathing is slightly labored and his heart rate is elevated. It’s not enough to indicate a panic attack, but he has no doubts that it could easily head that way. He doesn’t even know what Stiles is thinking. That might be the worst part.
*~*~*
Gods, he’s fucked up, he doesn’t even know how he can salvage this. First, he doesn’t even know how it happened. He’s never lost his shift in sleep, ever. He didn’t even know that was a thing that could happen. He’s even been unconscious before and not lost his shift, the only thing he’s ever been worried about was sedation or drugs fucking with him that might cause it. But this? This he has no explanation for.
Not really.
The only thing that even remotely comes to mind is that once he lost his shift around his mom, because she was safe and he was content and he trusted her implicitly.
Was he too content, too safe and too trusting in Peter’s presence?
He’s not sure if he wants to be right or wrong about that assumption, and furthermore what it implies. He’s admitted that he’s falling for the wolf, that was kind of a given now, but he still has no idea how Peter even feels.
What if he’s angry, or disgusted, or any number of things that Stiles just hasn’t thought of yet. What if he wants nothing to do with Stiles now? What if he thinks he’s been tricked or used? What if he rejects Stiles?
Stiles isn’t sure he could take any of that right now.
He doesn’t even know how long it’s been that he’s been left alone and just spiraling out of his fucking mind over everything.
“Sweetheart,” he hears Peter easily and Peter must figure he has enhanced hearing at least because the wolf doesn’t raise his voice in the slightest. “If you want me to leave, I will, I won't ever ask and we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want.”
He knows Peter is on the couch, had heard him, in a detached sort of way, make and eat breakfast before sitting down. He can't catch any clues as to what prompted Peter to say what he just said but he’s pretty sure there were notes of resignation in his voice, no matter how evenly Peter tried to speak.
Peter would never bring it up again, he would never ask, he’s giving Stiles this out if Stiles wants to take it.
He can't though. He owes Peter more than that at the very least. Even if nothing else ever happens between them, he can at least give Peter the truth.
With more bravery than Stiles feels he crawls out from under the dresser and makes his way into the living room, he hasn’t shifted back, he’s not sure what he would even say right now but at least this is a first step. Peter is where he thought he was, sitting on the couch in the living room, and Stiles stops a few feet away and just sits there with his head bowed and his ears flat to his head.
“You know darling, you are very good at keeping what you are a secret,” and Stiles thinks that he doesn’t even know the half of it, “I don’t think that I would have ever suspected a thing.”
In a way he wants to be proud of that, that he was able to hide something so well from someone like Peter Hale, the man, the wolf, who seems to know so much about everything.
Peter lets out a small chuckle, “makes me wonder what else you are hiding.”
Only Peter doesn't know how true that really is. Stiles takes a moment to think ‘fuck it’ and shifts again.
See, Stiles is a werecat, and mostly he takes the form of a small chocolate brown fluffy kitten, but that’s not all he can do. His mother’s lineage was special, which is mostly the reason she was so secretive and made him so secretive about what they are, because it’s not just a domestic housecat that Stiles can shift into, it’s any feline species.
He shifts smoothly from kitten to Tiger; Stiles pauses, brings his larger head up and stares at Peter before he shifts again. Cougar, again to Serval, then to Ocelot and Lynx, and then settling on black-coated Jaguar. Stiles’ other forms more closely mimic his age, showing a young adult feline version of Stiles, weirdly only his kitten form remains far younger; he never has been quite able to figure that one out.
“Magnificent,” Peter breathes, shifting from the couch to kneel in front of Stiles.
“May I?” he asks while reaching a hand out between them.
Stiles butts his head to the underside of Peter’s hand and Peter delights in petting him and scratching behind his ears, the look of awe not leaving his face.
“I knew you would make a marvelous wolf, but I think you’re even better just the way you are,” Peter states in a voice filled with reverence.
Peter pulls his hand back after a little while and then just rests on his heels, still kneeling in front of Stiles. Stiles stands, in this form he’s almost as tall as Peter is and just headbutts the wolf in his chest before walking back to the bedroom.
He closes the door behind him before he shifts back to human and gets dressed in the clothes that Peter laid out for him. Stiles is nervous about this conversation but so far Peter hasn’t done anything that would make Stiles think he would reject him. With a deep breath in and a long slow exhale he tries to settle his nerves before heading back out to talk to Peter.
Stiles walks into the living room and takes the seat at the opposite end of the couch from Peter and just waits. He knows Peter will have questions but he doesn't know what to say right now to start this off.
He watches Peter watching him and just waits for the wolf to speak.
“Why did you come here before? Why risk me finding out?” Peter says finally.
“I was hurt, that was real, the fucking hunters ran me off the road and crashed into my Jeep. I needed somewhere to stay, to heal, and I knew I would be safe here.” Stiles answers.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Shift back then and tell me?” Peter asks in confusion.
Stiles runs a hand through his hair and down to grip at the back of his neck, “I couldn’t tell anyone, I've never told anyone before. I saw first-hand how dangerous it was if the secret ever got out with the Hale fire, and – and not that Derek was to blame for any of that, but Peter, I couldn’t even tell my dad, how could I tell anyone else, how could I trust anyone else?” Stiles asks, pleading for understanding.
Peter sucks in a breath, “Your dad never knew? Doesn’t know even now?”
Stiles shakes his head, “No, not about any of it. I just, I wanted to tell him before, when I was younger, thinking it would make things easier after mom – after mom passed, but I saw how he was without her, and I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t tell him about me and then have to explain about her as well and watch as he drank himself to death.”
His head drops and he pulls his knees up to his chest, circling his arms around them, “I remember too many times when I would shift and run while he was passed out on the couch surrounding himself in whiskey bottles and I just couldn’t add to that, I couldn’t burden him more. He didn’t need to know that I lost my Alpha when I lost my mom and he didn’t need to know how much of a shit storm it was when I came into her powers so young. All I've ever tried to do it protect him and him knowing all that, it just would have hurt him more and – and I don’t know how he would have taken it. I don’t even know how he’d take it now. I’ve been lying to him my whole life.”
Stiles can't stop the tears gathering in his eyes, threatening to escape.
“Sweetheart,” Peter says with a note of sadness, “Then why are you here? After you left, and you knew I didn’t know, why risk coming back?”
The tears start falling as Stiles speaks, “I just – I –,” he shakes his head, “never mind, it’s stupid, it’s not important.”
“Sweetheart, it is,” Peter says gently.
“Fuck,” Stiles says harshly, “Fine, I just, I wanted, gods, it’s been so long since someone just took care of me and it was nice, okay, it was so fucking nice to for once, in so long, to not have to worry. And you didn’t know, you never knew and I used you and everyone was worried because I was missing and they were all looking for me and then I really did get fucking snatched and tortured and had to be rescued because I couldn’t risk trying to get myself out of there on my own and I just. Fuck, I just wanted to be taken care of, I just wanted that one more time before I couldn’t have it anymore, and it’s shitty, because again, I was using you, had used you, and I’m fucking terrible for it, but dammit I couldn’t fucking help myself and I’m so fucking sorry.”
“Darling, shh, come here,” Peter motions him over but Stiles is frozen in place, tears running unchecked down his cheeks and into the collar of Peter’s shirt. “Please,” the wolf implores him.
Stiles gets up, slightly reluctantly and can't meet Peter’s eyes. He walks the few steps over to him and the minute he’s in reach Peter grabs him, gently, but firmly and manhandles him until he’s straddling Peter’s lap.
“There, that’s better,” Peter says quietly and folds Stiles into his chest, rubbing a soothing hand up and down Stiles’ spine.
“Now listen to me sweetheart and listen to my heartbeat,” Peter starts, “you didn’t use me and you are so very far from terrible. And you should never have to feel bad about wanting to be taken care of. I would love nothing more than to take care of you as long as you’d let me.”
Stiles startles at this and pulls his head away from Peter’s chest, searching the wolf’s blue eyes to see what he might mean.
“Peter?” Stiles questions unsurely.
“I had wanted to do this a different way, maybe take you out to a nice dinner first, but Stiles, I want to Court you. I want to get to know you more and have a relationship with you.” Peter says earnestly, a hint of a smile on his face.
“Wait, what – really?” Stiles stutters out.
“Yes, dear boy, really.” Peter pauses and takes a breath, letting it out slowly before continuing, “I don’t know how much you know about wolf customs, but Courting is very traditional.”
“I know some, my mom had some books from when she was growing up in Poland about different species of shifters, but I don’t know specifics,” Stiles confirms.
Peter smiles, “I have a book, I can give it to you to read, but I’ll let you know the highlights now, hmm?”
Stiles nods.
Peter explains, “Part of Courting is asking the Alpha’s permission, as well as asking permission of your intended’s family. Once permission is granted you speak with the person you intend to Court and ask if they are willing to partake in the Courtship, at this time you present them with a gift. A way of showing you can provide for them and protect them. The rest is similar to modern dating, spending time together and getting to know one another more, tokens and displays of affection, with the exception that the two in Courtship are exclusive to one another. If the Courtship is deemed a success a final gift is offered. One meant to signify an understanding of the person you are Courting and in some cases a symbol of love.”
Stiles mind is reeling, but in a way, it’s highly romantic. “So wait, you asked Derek and my dad if you could Court me?”
Peter chuckles, “Yes, I did.”
Stiles can't help but smile, “I take it that it didn’t go that badly.”
“No sweetheart, it didn’t,” Peter says.
Stiles hums, “That’s good. So, are you asking me now?”
“Yes, but I have a gift for you first,” Peter says and helps Stiles to stand.
Stiles stays standing next to the couch as Peter retreats to the bedroom and returns a few moments later holding a small box in his hand.
Peter takes Stiles’ hand and looks him in the eye as he speaks, “Mieczysław Stilinski, I would like to offer you this gift as a symbol of my intention and means to protect, provide, and care for you. Should you accept this gift, I would ask that I have your permission to Court you until you either break the Courtship or deem it a success.”
Stiles nods, a little awestruck and speechless and carefully opens the box. Inside are two keys on a simple key ring that has a wolf’s paw print on it. It doesn’t look like a set of keys for a vehicle, nor are they smaller for a lockbox or safe; they just look like normal house keys. Stiles looks back up at Peter with a question in his eyes.
“One,” Peter says, pointing out the key, “is for the door to this apartment, the other is for the apartment near Berkeley. I wanted to give you access to a place that you could always come to whenever you needed.”
Stiles can't keep the shock from his face, and Peter continues before Stiles’ mind starts to run away with itself. “I’m not asking for you to move in, it’s much too soon for that,” he says with a small grin, “but I wanted you to have a place you could retreat to, for whatever reason you wanted. To know that you’re always welcome in my space, even if I might not be there too. Some place safe. And now, in light of everything, some place you can be yourself in, whenever you need to.”
“Peter,” Stiles says breathlessly, “I, I don’t know what to say.”
Peter carefully cups Stiles’ jaw, thumb gently caressing Stiles’ cheek, “Do you accept my gift, give me permission to Court you?” Peter steps in closer, only scant inches of space left between them.
Stiles nods, and gets out a ‘yes’ before Peter closes the distance and kisses him chastely.
Something so innocent shouldn’t make him want as much as it does, but it does.
As Peter starts to pull away Stiles pulls him back in, the next kiss far more passionate and far less innocent than the first. Peter kisses him like he’s starved for it and Stiles purrs, deep in his chest, in response and lets Peter kiss him breathless.
They’re both panting when they have to pull away to catch their breaths.
“What now?” Stiles asks when he can speak again.
“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Peter replies easily.
“I, I want to take this slow, so maybe we can cuddle and watch a movie,” Stiles asks shyly.
“Of course, darling,” Peter says and kisses him on the temple.
They relax back on the couch, and Peter doesn’t hesitate to pull Stiles close, letting him recline back on his chest, Stiles’ body between his legs. Even tugging down the blanket from the back of the couch to cover them. Peter hands over the remote for Stiles to pick the movie and then wraps both arms around him, holding him close.
Stiles picks something out and then relaxes more firmly into Peter’s embrace. Content and cared for in the best of ways. He doesn’t even know he’s purring until he hears Peter’s chuckle and gets a kiss on his head.
“You’re amazing sweetheart,” Peter says adoringly.
Stiles just nuzzles back into Peter and purrs some more because he can.
Because he’s safe, and happy. And Peter showing Stiles he cares might just be the best thing in the world.
----
Stiles shifting for Peter
