Work Text:
Stetopher || Teen Wolf || Stetopher || Lose Your Heart on a Horse || Stetopher || Teen Wolf || Stetopher
Title: Lose Your Heart on a Horse – 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, canon divergence, No Hale Fire AU, Stiles Leaves (after his mother’s death), ranch AU, Pack Alpha Peter, Spark Stiles, fluff, m/f
Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles
Side Pairings: Boyd/Erica, Mieszko/Gosia, Stan/Carol
Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Chris Argent, Peter Hale, Malia Tate, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Noah Stilinski, Mieczysław ‘Mieszko’ Gajos
Original Characters: Małgorzata ‘Gosia’ Gajos, Stanisław ‘Stan’ Gajos, Caroline ‘Carol’ Gajos, Margaret ‘Mags’ Gajos, Miriam ‘Mirka’ Gajos
Writer’s Month Prompts 2026: horse + field
Summary: After Claudia’s death, Noah seeks help and moves in with his in-laws. Stiles grows up on his grandparents’ ranch in Texas, until he leaves for college. When he graduates and returns, a werewolf pack moved into the neighboring ranch. Peter used to be his sister's Left Hand, until a rogue Alpha tore through town and turned three teenagers before Peter killed it. Beacon Hills was too small for two Hale Packs, so Peter and his husband Chris move to a ranch in Texas after the teens’ graduation.
Lose Your Heart on a Horse
Stiles Summer Stories 2026
Chris stepped out of the SUV and took a deep breath. Beacon Hills hadn’t been a big city exactly, but the air out here still hit differently. A smile spread over his lips as he looked around the vast, wide greenery. Far as the eye could see, and where it reached the end, there were dark, green trees lining a forest that stretched up onto the mountains surrounding them.
“The air smells amazing, doesn’t it?” Chris asked with a smile.
“It smells like horse-shit,” Isaac argued with a wrinkled nose.
Right. That must be worse for werewolves. Chris chuckled and patted his adopted son on the shoulder. Boyd and Erica looked around curiously when they got out of Peter’s car. Malia, who had been driving with Chris and Isaac, was already getting their luggage. Or at least the things they had brought with them in the car. The majority of their stuff would be delivered by a moving company.
“The house is nice,” Erica whistled softly. “I mean, needs some work done, maybe a new coat of paint, but it’s gorgeous. And definitely big enough for us all.”
“Okay. What’s on the plan for today, Alphas?” Boyd asked when he joined Malia to unload the cars.
“Pick rooms, get settled in a bit, explore our new territory,” Peter instructed.
He closed the door of his car and looked around, a pleased expression on his face. Chris and Peter had been here before, of course. Looking at it before actually buying it. They’d practically fallen in love with it right away. It was perfect for their pack.
“Peter and I are going to visit the Spark of these lands later, to make formal introductions, but yes, that’s it for today,” Chris tagged on. “Tomorrow, we start to rebuild.”
The farm did need some major work done. But nothing Chris and his five wolves wouldn't be able to take care of. The thought of it made him a little giddy, he had to admit. Not just to have a project that their pack would be working on together, but also to make this for themselves. When Chris had gotten together with Peter, he had moved in with his wolf’s family. The Hale House had been home for so long, but it had been the Hale family’s place. He’d found his place there, so had their daughters and their son. But this? This was going to be all theirs. Not a house with centuries of history and a dozen wolves living in there, three generations sharing space. Just them.
“Giddy looks good on you, husband,” Peter whispered as he pulled Chris into a kiss.
“I can’t wait for this new phase of our life, wolf,” Chris murmured against Peter’s lips.
“I miss Allison,” Malia announced grumpily as she stalked to the house.
The look on Chris’ face softened at that. Peter chuckled fondly and leaned against his husband.
“We should be careful about that,” Erica pointed out. “I swear she is going to go to Ally’s college and kidnap her. It’s not like we won’t miss Ally either, but Mal is taking it personally.”
“The two have been together all their lives,” Peter pointed out gently. “From the day they were born. They barely ever parted for a couple of days. Allison going off to college in France is… It is personal, for Malia. The two were far too close for too long for her to take this lightly.”
Chris hummed and tightened his arms around his wolf. There was an ache in his chest too, where Allison was supposed to be. But while Malia, as a born were, had always taken to the pack and the Hale side of her family, Allison, human as Chris, had wanted to learn more about the Argent line. It had absolutely terrified Chris at first, because he had turned his back on his family when he was a teenager, had been taken in by Peter’s family, helped by them.
But Allison? She’d dug deeper. Before Gerard had twisted what it meant to be an Argent when he had married into the family. The true meaning of the Argent line, the legacy of Marie-Jeanne Valet. Allison had become a bit obsessed with her ancestor and her story. Now that she had graduated high school, she’d chosen a university in France, in the region the Argents originally came from. There were distant relatives living there, the closest were his mother’s cousin and her family. They’d been more than happy to have Allison stay with them and teach them the true Argent legacy. Proud hunters who protected the innocent. Chris was happy for Allison and proud of her too.
“She’ll come around,” Isaac said softly. “She just needs time to be angry first. And maybe a distracting project like turning this into a proper living space.”
/break\
Peter put on a polite smile as he knocked at the door. The Red Oak Ranch was named so for a very simple reason. On it was the mighty red oak that was this territory’s Nemeton. Peter hadn’t seen it yet, but he hoped that if today’s meeting went well, he would.
A bored looking blonde young teenage girl opened the door. “Ye—es?”
“Hello,” Peter paused. “Are your… parents? Home? We’re the new neighbors and wanted to-”
He trailed off when the scent of wolf hit his nose. Another blonde teen girl, a couple years older than the first one and maybe more so in the age of the Betas stepped up to the first. She tilted her head and sniffed in a very unsubtle way before flashing her eyes golden. Peter smiled, more genuine this time, and flashed his own eyes red at her. This was hopefully making things easier.
“Grandma, pretty sure these are here for you,” the second girl called out.
They were soon joined by five adults, an elderly lady in the center, a mischievous smile on her lips. Her arm was looped in with that of a white-haired older man with a strict, stern look on his face.
“An Alpha,” she said with a curious hum. “What brings you to my doorstep, pup?”
Pup? Peter cleared his throat at that while Chris next to him chuckled with a teasing smile.
“I’m Peter Hale, this is my husband Christopher,” Peter motioned at Chris. “We moved into the farm next door – well, I suppose ‘next door’ is a stretch around here. But the next farm over. We moved into this territory with our pack and I thought it was only appropriate to introduce ourselves to the Spark of these lands. Though I was under the impressions that there are no wolves in Redwood. Apparently, I was mistaken with that.”
His gaze settled on the young wolf in front of him. The elderly man heaved a deep sigh.
“Don’t be like that, daddy,” the blonde woman about Peter’s age spoke up. “Hi. I’m Carol, my husband Stan. These are our daughters, Mags and Mirka. Stan’s parents Mieszko and Gosia, and my brother-in-law Noah. Come inside. We’re about to have tea.”
“Wonderful, we brought pie,” Peter lifted up the tray he was holding. “I was raised not to come empty handed and I thought I’d try myself on my mother’s blueberry pie.”
“Oh, Stiles is gonna be mad he’s missing that,” Mags sniffed. “It smells amazing.”
The family lead them into the house and to the kitchen. The men started setting the table. Stan was a middle-aged man with dark hair and a beard, on the lankier side but with broad shoulders. Noah was wearing a sheriff’s uniform, broad stature and carrying himself with certainty.
“There is no pack in Redwood,” Gosia said as she sat down at the table. “My granddaughter was turned by a feral Alpha when she was in high school. She joined the Nelson Pack in Austin, where she is going to college too. But our town doesn’t have a pack.”
“Despite having a Nemeton,” Peter noted lightly.
“Of course that’s what brings you here,” Mieszko grunted before sitting down next to his wife. “Don’t think you’re the first wolves to come here for my wife’s Nemeton. The power draws wolves and any other supernatural creature here like moths to a flame. But the Nemeton doesn’t just accept anyone. No Alpha has managed to bond with her yet.”
Gosia smiled at her husband and rested a hand on his arm, patting it, before she turned to look at Peter. “Yes, that’s true. Over the years, many wolves have come to try their luck. None have been deemed worthy by my Nemeton yet. You are welcome to meet her and try.”
“Mother,” Noah spoke up with a worried frown.
“I’m with Noah on that,” Stan agreed, an equal frown on his face. “You really need to stop taking strangers to the Nemeton. It has caused us so much trouble over the years.”
“Oh, nonsense, it’s always been fine,” Gosia hushed them.
“Because Stiles was here,” Mags pointed out. “But Stiles isn’t here now. He left for college.”
“I may be old, but young lady, I can quite hold my own without that boy,” Gosia chided her.
She raised both her eyebrows and her eyes tinted into a bright, glowing teal. A Spark. Peter pursed his lips at that. The power of a Nemeton and its Spark was what had brought them here. Noah heaved a sigh and crossed his arms, drawing attention to the sheriff star on his chest. Very subtly warning that if they caused problems, then they would be in trouble, not just with the Spark.
“I heard about the family,” Mags offered. “The Hales. Alpha told me about them. They seem to be good people? Allies of the pack. But I also thought the Alpha was a lady named Talia.”
“Yes,” Peter paused for a moment. “That would be my sister, Talia Hale.”
“Did something happen to her?” Gosia frowned in concern. “I knew your father, Logan, a long time ago. When he had first made the treaty with Elyan Nelson. And I was there when Talia came to renew the treaty with Bryan, years later.”
“My sister is well. But thank you for the concerns,” Peter smiled, though it was dimmed. “About two years ago, a rogue Alpha attacked our town. As my sister’s Left Hand, I… took out the threat to our territory. Granted, the plan had been for me to weaken it and chase it toward her so she could kill it. But at that point, the Alpha had already attacked many humans and it was… a matter of it or me, so I killed it. That left me an Alpha. I took the humans had had been turned during the Alpha’s attack on as my Betas. We’re only a small pack, my husband, I and four other weres. There is one more member to our pack, but she is off at college.”
“Mhmh,” Gosia nodded slowly in understanding. “Beacon Hills is Hale territory. It’s not… big. Not big enough for the egos of two Hale Alphas, I assume?”
“Mother,” Noah tried with an exasperated sigh. “Try not to insult our guests. Especially not when one of them is an Alpha werewolf. Spark or not, you could at least try.”
Gosia huffed and made a dismissive hand-gesture, while Chris chuckled. “No, your mother-in-law is right. These Hales do have a… healthy ego. It was fine, at first. But Malia, our daughter who is a were herself, shifted alliances and joined Peter’s pack. It created tension.”
“Even though Talia knew, rationally, that it makes sense for Malia, the Alpha in her reacted agitated to it,” Peter continued with a faint, sad smile. “Especially since we, as a pack, all lived together. After that, me and my family got their own place. But there was still a tension. You’re not wrong, the town wasn’t big enough for both Hale packs. So I started looking around.”
“And you landed all the way in Texas for that?” Mieszko asked with a deep frown. “Not exactly the nearest place. Surely there are other small towns between here and Beacon Hills.”
“None with a Nemeton,” Peter admitted in the end. “The Hales have been protectors of a Nemeton for as long as we have been werewolves, even before we came to the states, my family protected the sacred groves in Hale, back in England.”
“You got a whole town named after you?” Mags raised her eyebrows.
“How did you graduate high school?” Mirka heaved a sigh and glared at her older sister. “The other way around, doofus. Where do you think last names came from? Professions, locations and characteristics. Mom’s from a very, very long line of ranchers, it’s where they got their last name of Ryder. Gajos? It means grove. As in the sacred groves of Lady Nemetona.”
“Mirka is right,” Mieszko said, a smile aimed at his younger granddaughter, before he turned to narrow his eyes at Peter. “My family has guarded the groves just as long. And I would never let someone unworthy try to bond with my wife’s Nemeton.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Peter smiled. “I’m not here to cause problems. My family has had that same dedication for a long time and I thought that if I had to move territories, I would like to continue that mission. I want to help you protect this town and its Nemeton. I looked for a town with a Nemeton without a pack and then I saw pictures of Redwood and… it’s a beautiful place. The ranch, it appealed to me too. My uncle used to have a ranch, when I was little.”
“Well then, let’s get the business out of the way first,” Gosia suggested and got up. “Come.”
Peter raised his eyebrows and exchanged a look with Chris. They did both get up and followed the woman outside. She led the way into the woods. The very woods that were spanning all the way around the farms. Peter was acutely aware of the way the rest of the family was following them behind. It was a silent threat. They had no reason to trust Peter and Chris, regardless of what Mags may have heard about the Hales. Peter slipped his hand into his husband’s.
“Admittedly, I did not expect a tree to decide whether or not we’d get to make a home here,” Peter muttered softly as they reached the large, imposing red oak. “That’s how it works, yes?”
“It is,” Gosia confirmed with a smile. “It’s not that the tree will run you out of town – well, if your intentions are bad, if you are here for greedy and selfish reasons to abuse the Nemeton’s power, then she will run you out of town and, more importantly, so will I and my family.”
She flashed her eyes for emphasis and Peter nodded. “Which we are not.”
“In which case, it’s… your choice,” Gosia offered. “But usually, the Alphas who came here to seek to bond with my Nemeton and were rejected, well, they didn’t take well to that. They were hurt in their pride, offended, turned and left in a huff.”
“Or they grew tired of the danger,” Mirka added with a chipper grin. “You know, the kind of danger that turned my sister into a werewolf. The town attracts it. And most wolves? They don’t feel like sticking around if they don’t get the reward but have to put up with the dangers.”
“I can hardly blame them,” Noah muttered softly. “The things we’ve seen in recent years here were… dangerous and exhausting. Traumatizing too. I would understand why someone wouldn’t want to stick around here, if they have no obligations to.”
“Yes,” Gosia nodded her agreement. “They weren’t bonded to the territory, not settled in yet truly either, so they chose to leave and find a… safer place to live.”
Peter hummed his understanding. Bonding with the Nemeton was a mutually beneficial deal. The wolves gained protection, as much as the Nemeton and its territory did. However, if the Nemeton didn’t choose them, then why give their time, energy and maybe even lives to the territory?
“Well, we just… bought a ranch and acres of land to go with it and we packed up everything we own,” Chris cleared his throat. “Not gonna give everything up again just because the tree doesn’t like Peter. Most people don’t like Peter. It’s something I learned to live with.”
“Rude,” Peter shot his husband a glare. “I am a delight to be around.”
“You’re a pain in everybody’s ass,” Chris snorted softly and lifted Peter’s hand up to kiss. “I love you, but it’s true. So, even if the tree doesn’t like you, well, we have gotten used to adjusting and living with enough people who didn’t like you. We’ll be able to handle a tree.”
Gosia laughed at that. She stepped up to the tree and rested her hand on the bark. It was truly stunning. A thick trunk, ancient and imposing, with its bright-red leafs. Peter was filled with awe.
“Come here,” Gosia requested, reaching out for him. “Put your hand here.”
He did as instructed and closed his eyes. He could feel the magic pulsing from the tree, engulfing him. It was an intense feeling, so much stronger than any time Peter had been with their own Nemeton. But then that had been cut down years ago. This one was alive and thriving and it had a Spark to nurture it. Peter smiled faintly at the warmth of the magic. The wind tugged on him.
“How very interesting,” Gosia whispered softly.
Peter could only hear it because he was a wolf and stood so close to her. He wondered what it was, but the tree was quite distracting. He gasped out when the tree gently nudged his soul. Tugging on his pack-bond, trying to get to know his pack through him.
“Well, that’s new,” Noah commented warily. “She’s never done that before.”
“I think that means the wolves are going to stick around, then,” Carol added with mild excitement. “It’ll be good for Magsie to have some wolves nearby, mh?”
“Mom, I’m nineteen. Don’t try to arrange play-dates for me,” Mags huffed annoyed. “Besides, I have my pack in Austin. I’m fine being here without wolves.”
Peter blinked his eyes open and smiled amused at the Gajos family. These could be entertaining to spend time with, he supposed. And considering the Nemeton had accepted him, he was definitely going to be spending more time here, especially with Gosia.
“So, what’s her verdict?” Mieszko asked. “Are they staying as guests, or are they accepted?”
“Well,” Gosia smiled mischievously before stepping up to her husband. “I think things around here are going to be quite interesting from hereon out, dear. She accepts him as her Alpha.”
Peter had a feeling that there was more to it that she wasn’t sharing. For now, he’d have to trust the Spark. And then to build actual, mutual trust and hope she would share whatever else the tree had revealed to her. A pleased smile spread over his lips as he considered that. He had a new territory. A new home. A place for his pack to put down roots and grow. And a Nemeton and Spark to work with to protect the territory and his pack.
“Well then,” Noah patted Peter on the shoulder. “There’s a lot you gotta learn about our town.”
“How about we have this conversation inside? Over tea? And the pie they brought?” Mirka asked.
They walked back to the house and Peter felt the gentle caress of a warm breeze, like the land was welcoming him. He took a deep breath. This was going to be a good new chapter for them.
/break\
“You missed him again,” Mags said with a frown. “He left yesterday.”
“At this point, I am assuming that you made him up,” Erica pointed out. “There is no Stiles.”
Chris snorted out a laugh at that. They’d settled in well in Redwood, had fixed up the ranch, bought animals – mostly horses, but also some chickens – and gotten to work. It wasn’t for profit, the Hales had millions, after all. Peter’s money had them set for life. But Peter had also always loved riding, so the ranch had been a sentimental buy too. They did it for joy.
“He had an exam coming up and left early,” Mags shrugged. “Not my fault you guys had to go and spend the holidays in Beacon Hills with the rest of your family. Or that you spent the summer in France visiting Allison, while Stiles came to visit us.”
Stiles. Stiles was a cryptid according to Isaac and made up according to Erica. Chris was starting to lean that way too. Supposedly, Stiles was the sheriff’s son. A Spark, just like his grandmother. The only Spark in his generation, to be precise. Among Gosia’s two children, only her late daughter Claudia had inherited the magic and the connection to the Nemeton and she had passed it on to her own son. Neither Stan nor his two daughters had the magic.
Living here for over a year though, none of the Hale Pack had gotten to meet Stiles yet. He was off to college and every time he had been back home, over the summer or the holidays, the Hale Pack had missed him. They had spent this summer in France visiting Allison, and before that, over Christmas, they had been in Beacon Hills to celebrate with Talia and her pack.
“Life as a college student is busy,” Chris offered with a faint smile. “I’m sure we’re going to meet this Stiles sooner or later. Now, I believe you lot are running late for your run.”
Though Mags was part of the Nelson Pack and Austin wasn’t that far from Redwood – which was why she got to spend every weekend here with her family – there were still things she missed. Full moon runs during a break or the weekend were such an occasion. She’d taken to running with the Hale Pack then. Chris smiled as the teenagers ran off toward the woods.
“Chris,” Noah called out as he spotted Chris on the porch.
“You just missed the kids, sheriff,” Chris nodded with a smile.
Noah handed Chris a sandwich and Chris made an appreciative noise. He had also just missed Peter, which meant that Chris’ husband couldn’t judge the absolute atrocity that this sandwich was. Because Chris was human, Peter watched out for his diet like a hawk, wanting to keep his husband around as long as possible. Chris’ diet had never been a problem, he’d always eaten healthy and worked out a lot. But he had to admit that here, in Texas, there were a few more unhealthy indulgences. Barbecues at the Gajos’, the greasy diner food that Chris had never had a taste for before. It had started after a particularly rough case at the sheriff station that Chris had helped solve about a year ago, only shortly after they’d moved to Redwood. Noah had invited him for a sandwich to celebrate and it had become a bit of a ritual between them.
“You know, your husband and my son would get along quite well,” Noah commented with a small smirk. “Oh, I can see that guilty look on your face, the ‘if he knew, I’d get a preaching’ look. I know it from my mirror. Stiles has always been worried about my health. Even now, with him all the way in London, I gotta be careful where to eat. He has spies everywhere.”
“Spies?” Chris snorted amused before taking a bite.
“Yeah. He bribed all my deputies, and the diner staff,” Noah sighed. “Mirka, Mags and the Nelson Pack would tattle on me too, if they knew.”
“Mh,” Chris’ eyes crinkled at that. “So you didn’t befriend me for the company, you’re using me to get unhealthy food out of it, huh?”
Noah huffed and elbowed him. “You’re alright, Hale. But you are also useful, yes.”
Chris ate a couple more bites before he spoke again. “You know the Betas consider your son to be made up. Not real. Perhaps some kind of prank your nieces are pulling.”
“Stiles will love that when he hears it,” Noah barked out a laugh.
“It’s been over a a year that we’ve lived here and we still haven’t met him. You met Allison.”
“Well, yeah,” Noah frowned thoughtfully. “He’s… You know, he’s been through a lot.”
Chris frowned at that himself and leaned closer. “How’s that related?”
“Stiles, he left for college, yes. To pursue a degree in library science, but he also went to learn more about his magic,” Noah turned to stare out into the distance. “Gosia is a powerful Spark, but she only has the knowledge of her family and of her husband’s family, both which have guarded Nemetons for centuries. He… already knows everything our family knows. So… he sought out a mentor. Marge Cotton is the Spark of London, a very old and powerful Nemeton.”
“Learn an outsider’s perspective,” Chris nodded. “It’s a smart thing. Family knowledge, handed down as it is, is limited to the family’s perspective. I… know that first hand. The people who write the history also control the narrative. Getting someone else’s perspective can help.”
“It wasn’t enough,” Noah whispered, his voice tight. “The knowledge of our family wasn’t enough. There were so many threats that we only… scraped by against. Having two Sparks in this territory, without a stable pack, it… If the Nemeton is a lighthouse, then ours has become supercharged. Stiles left to learn different types of magic, different methods to channel his Spark. He also left so… so this territory would be safer. So the Nemeton would only have Gosia’s magic to nourish her.”
Chris’ eyes softened at that and he nodded in understanding. “He left for the same reason as Peter did. Two Sparks in the territory was too much.”
“In a way, yes,” Noah nodded and looked up at Chris. “Without wolves, yes.”
“That’s why your family was so… aggressively protective… when we first arrived,” Chris murmured in realization. “Your family has been waiting for a pack to come and stabilize the bond between Spark and Nemeton. Every pack that failed was a personal disappointment for your family because it set you back, because every pack was a hope that your son could come back.”
“Yes,” Noah smiled, a sad and subdued expression.
But it caused Chris to frown in confusion. “Then why isn’t he back? We’re here. The Nemeton accepted Peter, didn’t she? He could come home now?”
“He could,” Noah pursed his lips, like he was considering something. “When your husband first bonded with the Nemeton, Gosia realized that though the Nemeton and Peter were compatible, Gosia and Peter weren’t.”
The frown on Chris’ face deepened at that. “What… does that mean?”
“That Gosia isn’t the Spark to protect this territory with Peter,” Noah replied. “Stiles is.”
“The question why we haven’t met your son yet becomes more pressing the more you talk.”
Noah huffed out a laugh at that. “Stiles wants to finish college. He wants to finish his apprentice ship with Spark Cotton. If he comes back and genuinely interacts with Peter, it would create a bond between the three of them – Spark, Alpha and Nemeton. Stiles wouldn’t be able to just leave for months to finish the semester. It’s not that a Spark is… stuck in their territory, but they do regularly have to return again. London is too far, it would stretch that bond too thin and the length of time between breaks that he could return home to would be too long.”
“As soon as Stiles and Peter meet, they’ll need to settle the bond and Stiles would need to stay,” Chris nodded his understanding. “He’s avoiding us on purpose.”
“Yeah,” Noah shot him a small smile. “Stiles wants to finish his degree, and after, he is ready to come home. That was always the plan, after all. It’s not that he is… upset to be stuck in Redwood. This is his home, this is his territory. But right now, he thinks he is needed elsewhere. I may not think that – I don’t think he needed the apprenticeship, I think he was plenty strong already and had enough knowledge – but I do think that it is what he wanted, and that he needed to… see different places, make these experiences. I was born in a small town and lived in it all my life, before I moved to this different small town. I never explored. He deserves this experience.”
Humming softly, Chris nodded again. “Why not tell us? We’ve been your neighbors for a year now. We fight any threat side by side with you. I’ve helped you with plenty investigations.”
“Which all is part of how this relationship has grown,” Noah pointed out. “You were strangers when you came here. We knew nothing about you. Not your characters, not how reliable you would be. We needed to get to know you first. It was a… At what point have you built enough trust with someone? And how do you bring such a thing up, then? It came up now and we have that trust.”
Chris heaved a sigh and ran a hand down his face, carding his fingers through his beard. “I suppose I get that. I’m going to tell Peter when he comes back from the run though.”
“Another reason we didn’t tell you yet,” Noah admitted. “Wolves can be… tricky. The instincts and the way they feel bonds. Telling him there’s a Spark mean to bond with him and the Nemeton, but he’ll have to wait years to meet him?”
A couple times, Chris opened and closed his mouth. “...Yes, my impatient husband might not like that too much, I’ll admit. This is a tricky situation, isn’t it?”
Noah chuckled and nodded, before bumping shoulders with him. “For what it’s worth, we think the Nemeton chose well. Your husband may be an acquired taste, but he protects his territory with fierce and ruthless efficiency. I do think him and Stiles will make quite the team.”
The two sat in silence for a long moment, watching the sky graying above them as the moon rose higher. Gosia and Peter were working well enough together, but it wasn’t what Chris had expected, after all that he had read about the bond between the three aspects. He had to admit, this only made him more curious to meet Stiles and see what how boy would work with Peter.
/break\
Stiles took a deep breath when he stepped out of the car, a broad grin spreading over his lips. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to just feel his lands around him. Sure, he’d been back during the summers and for Easter and Christmas, but now he was back. Really back. And the land knew.
“You need a moment, kiddo?” Noah asked fondly as he also got out of the car.
“Later,” Stiles hummed, excitement buzzing under his skin. “Later, I’d like to take Roscoe out on a ride. Reconnect with every corner of my territory. But first, I think I have family to hug.”
He beelined right into the house, where he was greeted by his grandmother. Gosia smiled, her eyes a bright, vibrant green like the lands outside. He hugged her tightly and was soon joined by grandpa, who had a rare, pleased smile on his lips.
“You have grown, Mietek,” Mieszko declared, patting Stiles’ shoulder.
Stiles highly doubted it, but he didn’t argue for now. Uncle Stan and aunt Carol were quick to join once they’d heard them downstairs. The last to hug him were his cousins Mags and Mirka. Now Mirka had actually grown over the past three years.
“I can’t believe you are fi—inally home, cuz,” Mags rubbed her chin against his cheek.
He grinned and indulged the wolf. Ever since Stiles and Noah had moved to Redwood, after his mom’s death, Mags and Mirka had become more like sisters to him than cousins. Growing up here, on the farm, with his family, it had been so much better than back in Beacon Hills. Having his family around him, his grandmother teaching him magic. It wasn’t how his life was supposed to have gone, of course. His mom was supposed to teach him, they were supposed to guard Beacon Hills. And then she had died and his dad had lost himself in a bottle for a while, before seeking help. This was the only life Stiles knew, so there was no reason to wonder what could have been.
“You know that I just flew like half a day. So, food? Actually, shower first. Then food?”
“I bought half the butcher shop,” Stan promised him. “You, go take a shower. Me and your dad will bring your stuff up to your room. And then we can eat. How does that sound?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Stiles grinned excited. “And then you can catch me up on the Hales.”
His family kept telling him about them. With every story, Stiles grew more curious about them all. Mags had befriended the Hale Betas over the years, had grown very close to them. Mirka adored Malia Hale, apparently. His dad and uncle Stan had befriended Chris Hale, while Carol had taken to swapping recipes and gossip with Peter Hale. Everyone in his family was close to this pack and Stiles didn’t even know them. It fell like he had to find his place at his own home.
“There will be quite a lot of excitement with Stiles finally meeting the pack,” Gosia smiled at him. “When were you planning on doing that?”
“Twelve hour flight, grandma,” Stiles stretched and his back cracked. “I figured being with you guys, showering and eating, and reconnecting with our Nemeton and land would have priority. Tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep. Alpha Hale has waited three years, one more day won’t hurt.”
“It shows that you haven’t met Peter Hale yet,” Noah drawled with a dry expression.
Stiles chuckled and, after pulling his dad into another quick hug, headed upstairs to grab a quick shower. He was eager to meet the pack, yes, but he had missed his family and his lands. Peter Hale would be able to wait one more day to meet him.
/break\
Dinner had been good. So much food, they’d be eating left overs for days probably. And then came the next reunion, as Stiles headed into the stables. Whining and neighing and hoof-clapping was the greeting he got. He laughed with bright eyes as he hugged her.
“Hello, baby girl,” Stiles cooed as he brushed his fingers through her mane. “I missed you too, Roscoe. Yes, I missed you so, so much. You feeling up for a ride, girl?”
Roscoe was a beautiful white horse. She’d belonged to Stiles’ mom. Claudia had even helped bring Roscoe into the world. And after Claudia’s death… The horse had latched onto Stiles, and Stiles had found comfort in his mother’s horse. He grabbed her saddle and got her ready. He put the baby blue saddle blanket that used to belong to his mother on first, straightening it with gentle hands.
“C’mon. Let’s visit our territory,” Stiles whispered as he climbed onto Roscoe.
She neighed her agreement and the two of them headed out. Oh, there was nothing quite like the wind on his face while riding on horseback. Nothing made him feel more connected to his lands than the sharp impact of Roscoe’s hooves on the ground. They rode for at least an hour, allowing Stiles to reconnect with his lands. This, he had really missed this. London was big and lost its connection to nature. He’d liked his time there, but it’d never compare to home.
“Okay, girl,” Stiles leaned in and whispered to her. “Time to go visit Nemy.”
But Roscoe shook her head and headed in the other direction. Well. She’d always been a strong-willed girl and often times took him where he needed to go instead of where he wanted to go. He had learned to trust her on these matters though. She only slowed down when they met another horse. Atop the gray horse sat a very, very handsome man with silver hair and blue eyes.
“Howdy,” the man smiled, his eyes crinkling at it. “You must be one of the seasonal helpers from the Red Oak Ranch, mh? Your horse doesn’t seem to listen to you.”
“Something like that,” Stiles offered instead, grinning. “Guess she wanted us to meet.”
Maybe college had made him a little bolder. Maybe dating a hot, older man during college had made him a little bolder. Alpha Hayes had been fine – sophisticated, with just a hint of silver in his hair. This man though, he had rough edges and Stiles wouldn’t mind getting familiar with them.
“Lucky me, then,” the man noted, interest evident in his voice.
“Oh, I could make you very lucky,” Stiles drawled, drinking in the sight of strong thighs.
“Bold,” the hot silver fox countered, but he didn’t sound like he minded.
“Mh,” Stiles tilted his head a little, his eyes still wandering over the man. “I learned that life is short and it’s stupid to miss out on anything, so you should always take what you want if you can.”
“That so? Well, in that case… I wouldn’t mind taking you home with me,” the man’s eyes crinkled. “We could have a lot of fun for the night. If you don’t mind meeting my husband.”
“Husband,” Stiles croaked out. “Meet as in he’s gonna beat my ass for coming onto his man-?”
The silver fox had a really nice, rich laugh. “If ‘beat your ass’ means you don’t mind a good spanking then yes. No, we have a… similar taste in pretty boys and we do like to indulge from time to time. Since you’re bold, I wonder just how bold, pretty boy. You don’t happen to mind meeting my husband too? He went ahead with the herd. Join me?”
Oh, pretty boy? Now, he really liked that. His cheeks flushed a little as he nodded. This hadn’t been the plan, but clearly Roscoe had had the best of intentions of getting Stiles laid. She was definitely getting sugar cubes for that later. He patted her flank as they fell in line with the man.
“Yeah, okay,” Stiles nodded, his heart beating fast in his throat. “If that man is even just half as fine as you are, I am definitely on board. Feeling very bold.”
The silver fox laughed again and led the way. Stiles was happy to follow. It had been a while, to say the least. Since his breakup with Robert. Writing his thesis had been wildly distracting. So if he could celebrate his return home not just with hot sex with one hot man but rather with a threesome?
The two soon caught up with the herd and with a cowboy on a horse. “Christopher! There you are. I was getting worried. Now who do you bring with you there?”
“Sorry, Peter,” the silver fox called out with a smile. “I got a little… distracted.”
Peter and Christopher? Stiles blinked a couple of times and glared at Roscoe. So she did not want to get him laid, she wanted him to meet his Alphas. He knew that horse was conspiring with his Nemeton, he’d always known it! When he looked up again, they were close enough to the other man – to Peter freaking Hale – for Stiles to get a good look and oh. Oh wow, that was a gorgeous man. Very different physical vibe from Chris, but both were stunning. This was bad.
“Distracted, mh?” Peter asked, one eyebrow cocked and his very blue eyes on Stiles.
“Yes,” Chris was close enough to Stiles that he could rest a hand on Stiles’ lower back. “Ran into this pretty boy here and he was flirting hard with me.”
Peter also raised his second eyebrow. “Were you now, pretty boy?”
Oh, this was so, so, so bad. Suddenly, the no strings attached fun time Stiles thought he had found turned into an absolute disaster. He flushed brightly as he looked at both men. How had nobody warned him just how attractive they were? That felt like something he should have been informed of. Stiles groaned softly and rubbed his face.
“Yeah, but this suddenly turned into a very bad idea,” Stiles muttered. “Hey, I’m Stiles. Maybe shoulda lead with that. In my defense, your husband is very distracting himself. I mean, look at that man. My brain stopped working when I looked at his beard because the question what beard burn would feel like on my thighs became overwhelmingly pressing.”
“Stiles,” Chris repeated very slowly, going a little pale. “As in Noah’s kid?”
“Yeah,” Stiles motioned vaguely. “That. Hi. So not how I expected to meet you.”
“I mean, it was definitely quite the first impression,” Peter muttered.
“I… usually don’t do that,” Stiles said, feeling defensive. “I mean, I have actually learned how to flirt at college, but I’ve never come onto someone like that. I just… Let’s forget this happened.”
He covered his face to groan into his hands. This was definitely not the first impression he’d meant to make on his Alphas. He’d had this whole plan. Tomorrow, after a good night’s sleep, he wanted to meet them at the Nemeton. Be all badass Spark, adhere to the ancient traditions to impress them with his knowledge, just overall be… not a walking disaster.
“...You don’t have to explain yourself to us,” Chris pointed out softly. “You’re old enough to make your own decision. If you have one-night-stands or not isn’t… anyone’s business. And I was… more than willing to take you home with me, so… glass house there.”
Stiles nodded at that, peeking out between his fingers. Damn, these men were attractive. Being nice to Stiles somehow made that worse. Roscoe neighed softly and Stiles glared at the traitor.
“So, I take it you’re back?” Peter smiled eagerly. “I have been waiting a long time to meet you.”
“Two years,” Chris muttered beneath his breath. “It’s been two years since you learned that he’s your Spark. You really are the most impatient man I know.”
“Two years are a long time, Christopher,” Peter narrowed his eyes at Chris and it was kinda cute.
Stiles couldn’t help but grin. He had been just as impatient to meet them. Though, again, really had hoped to leave a better impression and not look like a horny, desperate mess.
“Right well,” Stiles cleared his throat. “Might as well do this now, since you’re here and I’m here. Wanna go bond with my Nemeton together?”
“You are… something else,” Peter noted, looking a bit amused. “Very well, my Spark. Let us bring the horses to the meadow and then we can go to the Nemeton.”
A flush lit up Stiles’ cheeks at that. My Spark. Well, he had been thinking of them as his Alphas, so it seemed only fair. But to be called that, to his face, by a gorgeous man like that? Very different. He cleared his throat and then followed them and their herd. He watched the two of them, how they looked at each other, interacted with each other. It made him kind of glad that he hadn’t gotten to take them up on their offer of a threesome, because he thought it would feel very strange to be stuck in the middle of a love like theirs. To be the add-on for a night of pleasure while they shared a connection so deep. Stiles could feel the magic of their mate-bond pulse strong between them.
“How did your thesis go?” Chris asked, startling Stiles. “Your father, he did tell me that you aced it, but I figure you might have more to say about that.”
“I always have more to say,” Stiles snorted. “You’ll learn to regret asking.”
After the warning, he did launch into a detailed retelling of his thesis and how he had came about it. Not once did Chris interrupt him or seem bored. He even asked questions. The time passed quickly and all of a sudden, they were already at the Nemeton. The wind whistled through the bright-red leafs. A fond smile spread over his lips as he got off his horse and walked over to her.
“Hello, Nemy,” Stiles rested his hand against her bark. “You already bonded with him, mh? You like him. Tell me how well he’s been taking care of our lands.”
He could hear Peter and Chris getting off the horses. Both men stayed quiet and watched curiously. Closing his eyes, Stiles also rested his forehead against the bark. The Nemeton pulsed beneath his touch and shared her memory with him. Every time that the Hale Pack had protected their lands in the past three years, all the laughter shared, the pack runs underneath the full moon, the gentle way in which Chris had helped Gosia rake the leafs in autumn, how the pack had held picnics underneath her branches in spring, the wolves riding over the fields. She was… content.
“Okay,” Stiles whispered against the tree. “Thank you, Nemy. And thank you for holding down the fort while I was gone. I’m back now.”
He turned around and leaned his back against his tree. His gaze settled heavily on the two men in front of him. He reached both his hands out, one for each. Though he’d never done anything like this before, it was near instinctual for him. They accepted his hands and stepped up to him.
“As long as you live on my lands, you and your pack are under my protection,” Stiles vowed.
“And we promise to protect your lands at your side, as long as we live here,” Peter vowed.
The magic weaved between them, forging a bond. The Nemeton pulsed with her magic in approval. Stiles tumbled forward a step as the bond overwhelmed him. Chris quickly reached a hand down to grab him by the hip and hold him steady. Tilting his head, Stiles leaned his cheek against Chris’ shoulder to gather himself for a moment. This was going to be interesting.
/break\
Stiles was magnificent. He was everything Peter had hoped he would be and then some more. Gorgeous, witty, clever, funny, never taking shit from anyone, powerful, brave, loyal, protective, filled with so much love that he shared with those he considered his.
“We have a problem, Christopher,” Peter whispered as he rolled over.
He leaned over his husband, running his fingers through silver chest-hair. Chris laid with his arms behind his head, staring up into the sky. The Betas and the Gajos cousins were splashing about in the pond behind the Gajos farm’s fields. Peter turned, his eyes heavy and hot on Stiles. Long spans of pale skin dotted with moles. Lean muscles, elegant fingers, and oh the way he looked soaking wet, his hair slicked back, a smile on his face.
“What, wolf?” Chris grunted with a smile. “A certain Spark, mh? Or a wolf who’s struggling to keep his paws to himself? What’s the real problem?”
Peter pawed at Chris’ chest pointedly and tore his gaze away from Stiles. “The problem is that carnal desire has grown stronger, into more. We share a bond, a warmth settled in my very soul, together with my matebond to you and my pack-bonds. He is… a brilliant spitfire, love.”
“Mh,” Chris’ smile turned warmer as he carded his fingers through Peter’s hair. “He certainly is.”
“You want him too,” Peter accused his husband. “I can smell it on you, I can see it every time you look at him. He’s perfect for the both of us, love. You know that.”
The way Chris remained quiet spoke volumes. Over the past weeks since Stiles had returned, they’d spent a lot of time together. None ever brought up the way they had actually met. The way the boy had hit on Chris, and that Chris wanted him enough to agree so readily, to bring him before Peter.
“Feelings are dangerous, Peter,” Chris murmured against Peter’s temple, pressing a kiss. “Feelings complicate things. What do we do about that, Peter?”
Peter tilted his head, his eyes on Stiles. “I have no idea. He’s a force I couldn’t calculate for.”
“Peter Hale, lost for words and without a plan,” Chris chuckled fondly. “He is special.”
/break\
Growing attached to the Hale Pack was frighteningly easy. Malia’s direct and blunt nature just hit right. Isaac was an asshole after Stiles’ own liking. Erica was simply awesome and perfect for indulging in DC ramblings. Boyd was quiet but that didn’t make him demure, what he had to say when he spoke was cutting and he didn’t take anyone’s shit either. Which was the one shared quality by all Hales, Stiles supposed. And why Stiles fit right in with them.
The worst part were the Alpha pair though. There was a reason Stiles had been bold enough to hit on Chris right off the gate. The man was the definition of a hot silver fox. The risk of humiliation and embarrassment had been worth it for the chance to get to hook up with the man. Well, retrospectively speaking, that was not the case and he wished he hadn’t, but too late now.
“I can’t believe you go clubbing with your dads,” Stiles teased.
He was on the dance-floor with Malia, grinning at her. Isaac was dancing with Mags, while Boyd and Erica were doing something that was growing decidedly more and more inappropriate for the public (okay, Erica mostly, Boyd just stared at his girlfriend in a smitten way and held her hips while swaying along with her movement). His grip on Erica tightened and he pulled her into a kiss and yep, this kept getting less and less appropriate.
“This a pack activity,” Malia argued, drawing Stiles’ attention back to her. “They’re our Alphas.”
“Also, their preferred prey is here and they are clearly on the prowl,” Erica chimed in.
“...What does that mean?” Stiles asked with a confused frown.
She jerked her head toward where Chris and Peter were. Stiles fully froze up when he saw the mated pair flirt with a tall, skinny boy with dark hair. Right. Chris had said that they did this kind of thing, which was why the man had been so willing to take him home when they first met. He just hadn’t really seen them do that, or seen any guys hang around the Hale Ranch, ever since he’d returned. This shouldn’t sting. It had no right to sting. He had no claim on them, beyond being their Spark and them being his Alphas. They’d never even hooked up, much less anything more.
“I… I’m heading home, guys. I don’t feel too well,” Stiles muttered. “Guess I had too much to drink. Sorry. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, have fun, okay?”
Erica tried to reach out for him to stop him but he sidestepped her and Boyd, thankfully enough, got the hint and held his mate back to allow Stiles a quick exit. He was just so stupid for having caught feelings. But being back home, getting to know Chris and Peter, working with them, protecting his lands with them, sharing this bond with them, spending so much time with them – to protect the land, but also because the Hale Pack had become a vital part of the everyday life of the whole Gajos family, like, he’d run into Chris at the station when visiting his dad, saw Chris and uncle Stan out back shooting cans and trading ‘girl dad stories’, Carol and Peter in the kitchen arguing over the right amount of garlic in some Italian sauce, he’d even seen Peter play chess with grandpa.
The point being: Chris and Peter were everywhere and Stiles was falling more and more in love with them with every day that he got to spend with them, everything he learned about them, every time they protected his territory or helped his family or were just nice to Stiles. And he was stupid for it. If it had been a stupid idea to try and hook up with them, it was a monumentally idiotic idea to fall in love with them. Nothing would come from that. They were happily married. They indulged in playthings on the side, and that wasn’t what Stiles would want to be either.
He closed his eyes tightly as he leaned against the Jeep to catch his breath for just a moment. He wasn’t stupid, he wasn’t going to drive. He just needed a moment to not be a total mess before calling an Uber, because the last thing this day needed was for him to start crying like a love-sick fool in a stranger’s car. No, thank you. He just needed to get his shit together.
He yelped startled when someone grabbed his upper arm, immediately in attack mode. “Woah, easy there, sugar. Put those eyes away. I wanted to see if you were okay.”
Breathing hard, Stiles reeled his magic in again when he came face to face with Chris. Next to the man stood Peter, both husbands looking concerned. Stiles frowned in confusion.
“I’m fine,” Stiles said. “Why are you out here? You were just in there, busy with…”
He trailed off, unsure how to even put that. The mated pair exchanged a look, before Peter reached out to rest a hand in Stiles’ neck, drawing his pain. Okay, maybe he wasn’t wholly fine. There was that headache that always built up when he was in loud, crowded places for too long. He sighed contently and leaned back against the Jeep again.
“What’d you do that for?” Stiles asked softly.
“You have a particular way of saying ‘I’m fine’ that, even without werewolf hearing, rings as untrue,” Peter replied. “And we weren’t doing anything important. When Erica told us that you wanted to leave because you weren’t feeling well, we wanted to check on you.”
“We’re driving you home,” Chris added. “You’re not driving like that.”
“I wasn’t going to, I’m not that kind of asshole,” Stiles huffed offended. “It’s fine. I’m taking an Uber. Super safe and you can go back to picking up the flavor of the night, or whatever.”
Did he sound bitter? He probably sounded bitter. He was too drunk to actually care though.
“As I was saying,” Peter sighed and snatched Stiles’ keys from his pocket. “We weren’t doing anything important. Most certainly nothing more important than you. We’re driving you home. Well, I am driving you home, since I’m the sober one. All drunkards, in the back. Shoo.”
Stiles humpfed his protest, but he let himself be steered into the back by the wolf. He also did lean against Chris and ended up using the man’s shoulder as a pillow for the entire ride, his eyelids heavy and the scent of Chris’ aftershave really soothing. He gave a confused grunt when he was being jostled. When he opened his eyes, he was looking directly at Peter’s collarbone, his nose practically pressed against it. He gave a confused grunt at that.
“Sh, sweetheart,” Peter whispered. “Just keep sleeping, I’ll take care of you.”
Stiles gave a very pleased noise at that promise and snuggled up to the warm wolf. He knew Peter would. Peter and Chris always took care of him. He’d so frighteningly quickly come to rely on them like that, trusting them like that. Which was probably why all of this hurt so much.
“What’s hurting, baby?” Chris’ voice was dark and concerned.
He was also brushing his fingers through Stiles’ hair, which was really nice. He leaned into the touch and blinked up at the concerned couple. Peter had put Stiles down on his bed and was kneeling before Stiles to take off his shoes. Heh. Kind of a power rush, having the big, powerful Alpha kneeling before him like that. Also, really nice view.
“Yes, that is a very nice view,” Chris agreed. “But can you answer my question, sugar? What hurts? Do you need some kind of medical attention? Is that why you left the club?”
“Yes,” Stiles’ mouth answered before his brain could tell him what a bad idea this was. “Because I didn’t want to see you flirt with some… some… bargain bin knock-off version of me!”
Both got really quiet and stared at him for a long moment. Stiles huffed and threw himself back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. There was still that Charmed poster of Cole Turner on his ceiling. He really should start updating his bedroom, he was not the teen who’d left for college anymore. Also it was probably embarrassing for them to see his teen crush like that.
“Baby, you agreed… We all agreed that it was a bad idea for us to hook up,” Chris pointed out. “Did you… change your mind? No, never mind. You are too drunk for this conversation.”
“I didn’t change my mind!” Stiles threw his hands up in frustration. “I still think it’d be a bad idea to hook up. In fact, it would probably be an even worse idea than it was when we first met, because then it would have just made things awkward and now it would just hurt. To get to sleep with you but not get to keep you and to afterward pretend like a night’s fun was enough when what I really want is everything with you too, but I can’t have it, so it’s all fucked up and it hurts.”
“Stiles…” Peter trailed off, his voice soft. “You should sleep some.”
“Yeah,” Stiles mumbled and rolled over. “I should.”
The bed dipped on either side of him. He was too upset and too tired and also still too drunk to care or put one and one together, so he just drifted off while two sets of strong arms wrapped around him, holding him and making him feel so safe.
/break\
Stiles groaned at the horrible headache that woke him up. Hangovers were the worst. He really needed to invent some kind of potion to take care of that. Huh. He frowned confused when the headache slowly drained from him. A soft sigh escaped him as he was left in that happy floaty feeling of a pain-drain. Wait. Unless he had made some really poor decisions last night and decided to hook up with some werewolf, there should not be pain-drains upon waking up.
When he cracked one eye open, he was looking right into the ice-blue eyes of Peter Hale, whose hand was curled around Stiles’ neck to do the pain-drain. Stiles narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember last night. Chris and Peter had flirted with some dude, Stiles got upset about it, left… They followed him and insisted on driving him home. His eyes widened when he remembered bits and pieces of the conversation after. Chris asking him if he changed his mind.
“Easy, sugar,” Chris whispered lowly into his ear, rubbing circles onto Stiles’ stomach. “Nothing happened. We did not have sex with you while you were drunk enough to pass out.”
“Right. I wouldn’t have thought you’d do that,” Stiles argued. “I just… am drawing a blank on why else you would be in my bedroom. More specifically, in my bed. You know.”
“Well, you said some interesting things last night and we thought we needed to talk to a sober version of you about them,” Peter offered with a smile. “And kidnapping you out of your bedroom to take you to our place seemed… ill-advised. What with you being the sheriff’s son. But waiting until you woke up, sobered up and were ready to actually talk also… I’m not a patient man, darling. So we decided to stay to have this conversation with you as soon as you woke up.”
“Not awake enough for serious conversations,” Stiles grumbled and grabbed his pillow.
He hid beneath said pillow, startling a laugh out of Chris. A soft kiss was pressed to his shoulder, the man’s beard scratching his skin and making him shudder. Peter’s hands had wandered down Stiles’ body to rest on his waist. Slowly, Stiles removed the pillow again.
“The reason we were trying to pick up that boy yesterday,” Peter started and nope, the pillow went back over Stiles’ head, he did not want to hear this. “Is because we have fallen hopelessly in love with you, but since you set very clear boundaries and we want to respect them, we thought… We thought a one-night-stand would help us get over you. However, as you so eloquently put it last night, he really was a bargain bin version of you. Couldn’t hold my interest for a full conversation. Even if you hadn’t required our attention, we wouldn’t have taken him home.”
“It didn’t feel right,” Chris added softly. “He didn’t feel right. Wasn’t you.”
Stiles peeked out from beneath his pillow, looking at them in confusion. “So… You… want me? For more than just a one-night-stand? Because I mean it, I could not do that.”
“For everything,” Peter promised, nosing along Stiles’ jawline. “Dates and romance and anything else you want. I want to hold your hand and kiss you whenever I see you.”
“Sappy Wolf,” Stiles whispered softly, but he was biting his lower lip in eagerness.
His eyes were on Peter’s lips though. Those lips were very tempting. Grabbing Peter by the v of his shirt, he pulled the wolf into a kiss, his pulse racing the entire time. When they parted, they were both breathlessly panting and Peter’s eyes were a supernatural icy blue. Strong hands grabbed his waist to roll him over, making him yelp, but before he could protest, there was a different pair of lips pressed against his. Where Peter kissed with the hunger of a wolf, Chris kissed with the patience of a hunter. Stiles gasped into the kiss, arching into it.
“Stiles, breakfast is ready. I know you’re hungover, but you know aunt Carol’s panca…”
Noah trailed off as he entered the bedroom. He just kind of stared at them. Stiles’ instinct was to push away from Chris and Peter, but there was only so much space on his bed that was definitely not designed for three people, so him pushing off Chris ended up with Peter on the floor. The wolf grunted as he got up, trying to save some of his dignity. Stiles’ dignity was dead and buried.
“Good morning, sheriff,” Peter offered a charming smile. “Beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
“Right,” Noah grunted and nodded at Peter and then at Chris. “Stan owes me fifty bucks. I owe Erica twenty. And I’m just going to… hide Mieszko’s shotgun and tell Carol to make more pancakes. Try to look decent when you come downstairs for breakfast.”
“Father, wait!” Stiles yelped in his most dramatic tone. “What does that mean?!”
Noah paused in the doorway and turned to look at Stiles with his eyebrows raised. “It means that I am the sheriff. And you were not subtle in your pining. It also means that your grandfather does have some choice words about Chris and Peter’s age though.”
With that, Noah left the bedroom. Stiles sank back onto his bed with a loud groan. This could not be real. He covered his face with both hands and groaned again for good measure. Someone grabbed his wrists and peeled his hands off his face. Instead, his face got peppered with kisses, Chris’ beard scratching and tickling. Stiles slowly relaxed into it and by the time he was calmed down, Peter had rejoined them in the bed, pressing kisses to Stiles’ neck.
“I love you,” Chris whispered warmly. “I’m sorry we hurt you yesterday. We were trying to get over our own hurt. It… wasn’t working. I’m very glad it wasn’t working.”
“Yeah, me too,” Stiles whispered back and leaned forward to press a kiss to Chris’ lips.
“We should however get ready for breakfast with your family,” Peter pointed out. “Carol gets huffy when her pancakes get cold. I do not need her ire. Mieszko’s will be enough.”
The three of them straightened out their clothes, washed up and went downstairs to join the family. Stiles very resolutely put himself between his grandpa and his Alphas, smiling brightly every time Mieszko glared. Thankfully, Gosia intervened whenever Mieszko wanted to voice a threat. Stiles also watched how Stan handed Noah a fifty. He could not believe his dad took bets on his love life! And against multiple people! He’d never been more proud of his dad. He also needed to get a cut of the action. But for now, he was just happy to have his men.
~*~ The End ~*~