Chapter Text
“Absolutely not.”
“Peter,” Derek started, as if talking to a child who was being purposefully difficult.
“No,” Peter interrupted with finality, pacing the living room. “I refuse. There is no scenario in which I will allow myself to be paired with a child for this meaningless exercise.”
“As if I’m jumping for joy at being paired with you?” Stiles folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the kitchen island.
The whole pack was gathered at Derek’s loft, discussing their latest threat and devising a plan to deal with it. Chris’ hunter buddy had gotten a tip that there was a new, young group of hunters who wanted to make a name for themselves, and had apparently decided that decimating the Hale Pack would be a good way to make their bones within the hunting community. As a result, Derek was ordering them to stay in pairs until the threat was either contained or eliminated.
“Peter,” Derek tried again. “It has to be Stiles. I’m with Chris, Scott’s with Kira, and Isaac’s with Lydia.”
Peter stopped pacing and shook his head. “I’ll go with you,” he said, raising his eyebrows in a clear challenge.
Derek sighed, beyond exasperated at this point. “You can’t go with me; we’ve talked about this. We need to split up our wolves.”
“Then I’ll take –,” Peter sneered at his options.
“Who?” Derek asked, getting more annoyed by the second. “Chris? Lydia? They’d both probably kill you faster than the hunters who are after us, no offense,” he added towards where Chris and Lydia were sitting in the living room.
“None taken,” Chris said lightly.
“No, you’re right,” Lydia agreed, filing her nails as she had been since the pairings were announced.
“And there’s no way Scott’s going to let anyone but himself stay with Kira,” Derek finished. “I know this isn’t ideal, for any of us, but it’s the best way to keep us safe.”
Peter scoffed, but didn’t offer a counter argument. Derek had learned with his uncle to take that as a win.
“Alright,” the Alpha said, getting the group’s attention once more. “You all know the rules; no going anywhere alone, stick with your buddy, check in with me every hour.”
There were murmurs of assent from the group, and they left the loft with their buddies. Derek left to assist Chris while he packed up some of his things for his indefinite stay at the loft, leaving Stiles and Peter alone.
“We’ll stay at my place, obviously,” Peter said with a harsh smirk. “Let’s go pack your things.”
Stiles glared and approached the wolf with narrowed eyes. “Why, ‘obviously?’ Maybe I want to stay at my place, you ever think about that? My dad lives there. If I’m not there to watch what he eats, he’ll just have diner food for the whole time I’m gone. Not an option. We have a perfectly fine guest room.”
Peter studied Stiles for a moment, wondering how worthwhile it would be to start fighting so early into their arrangement. “A compromise, perhaps?”
Stiles pursed his lips, but nodded for Peter to continue.
“We stay at my place, but,” he held up his hand when Stiles looked like he was about to interrupt. “But, we bring your father lunch at the station every day, and we can take some time to make him meals he can heat up easily for his dinners.”
It was too good of a compromise for Stiles to pass up, and Peter knew it. The wolf folded his arms across his chest with a triumphant smirk that made Stiles want to refuse on principal.
“Fine,” Stiles gritted out after a few more moments of consideration.
“Fine,” Peter repeated, grabbing his jacket and heading to the door. “You coming?” he asked obnoxiously over his shoulder when he realized Stiles wasn’t following him.
Stiles grumbled under his breath the whole way down to his Jeep and throughout the drive to his house. Peter followed in his SUV and parked directly behind Stiles in the driveway. The Sheriff’s car was there, so Stiles steeled himself for the impending blow out when he explained the situation.
They walked in and headed straight for the living room, where Stiles knew his dad would be sitting in him usual armchair, watching a baseball game.
John frowned in question when he saw Peter Hale following his son inside the house, but greeted Stiles as normal and waited patiently for an explanation.
Peter, for his part, seemed perfectly content to sit on the couch and watch the game until Stiles wanted to tell his father what was going on.
“So,” Stiles said during the next commercial break. “You’re probably wondering why Peter’s here?”
“I sure am,” John said in a deceptively lighthearted tone.
Stiles blew out a breath and finally came to a seat on the opposite end of the couch from Peter. He bit his lip, buying him some time before he had to start. When he did, he watched his lap the whole time. Something told him he did not want to see the expression on his dad’s face.
When Stiles finally looked up at the conclusion of his story, he found that he was right. His dad looked furious.
“Let me get this straight,” John said in his Sheriff Voice. “There’s a threat to the Hale Pack, so you’ve decided the best course of action is to move in with a Hale for the foreseeable future?”
Stiles scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I’ll admit there are some flaws in our logic, but we’ve decided it’s best if we stay together in pairs. For safety, you know? And we wanted one wolf with each human, so I got stuck with Peter.”
“Stuck,” Peter scoffed under his breath.
“You’re welcome to pick any other human,” Stiles spat nastily. “Oh, wait, you tried that, and no one else would have you.”
Peter rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively at the boy.
“Why can’t you both stay here?” John demanded.
“First of all, no one knows where I live, but it’s no secret to the supernatural community that Stiles is in our pack, and it wouldn’t be hard to put two and two together to find him at the Sheriff’s house. Secondly, I have wards up around my place, so it is much safer. Also, you’re allergic to cats.”
Both Stilinski’s frowned in confusion at the last point.
“How did you know I’m allergic to cats?”
“You have a cat?”
Peter smirked. “It’s my job to know things about anyone who is close to the pack. And yes, I have a cat.” He offered no further information on the subject. “So, as you see, it just makes more sense for Stiles to stay with me.”
John attempted to argue for several more minutes, each argument getting shot down by Peter’s logic. If Stiles didn’t hate the situation, he would almost find it entertaining.
Finally, John had to concede. “But,” he said sternly, pointing at the amused wolf. “I see him every day for lunch, and he texts or calls me every night. And he still comes to Stilinski Sunday Brunch.”
Peter tried to hide his amusement, and failed. “Cross my heart,” he said, using his pointer finger to mime a cross over his chest.
“Ugh, I hate you so much,” Stiles groaned, pulling at Peter’s shirt to get him to stand up with him. “Come on, creepily watch me while I pack. You’re carrying all the heavy stuff.”
“Yes, dear,” Peter replied, just to see if he could get the vein in the Sheriff’s forehead to pop out.
He succeed.