Work Text:
Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf || The Parking Garage || Teen Wolf || Steter || Teen Wolf
Title: The Parking Garage – Mischief Mondays Series
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, Alpha Peter, hurt/comfort, set during 3B
Main Pairing: Peter/Stiles
Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Peter Hale
Summary: When the Nogitsune makes Stiles believe he's sick, Stiles thinks about the offer Peter made him all these months ago in that parking garage.
The Parking Garage
Mischief Mondays Series
Do you want the Bite? Yes or no?
Stiles wanted, desperately. Still. He’d wanted it when it had first been offered to him, but he had been too afraid – terrified, really – and of so many things. He’d seen the way the Bite had changed Scott, after all. The short temper, the loss of control.
Stiles didn’t do particularly well with losing control, perhaps a fear ingrained in him by seeing his mother slowly slip away, losing her mind and herself. Years ago, he had vowed to never lose himself. And as tempting as it had seemed – the power, the heightened senses, the possibility to actually improve at lacrosse and gain popularity, even the concept of pack had intrigued Stiles – the fear of losing himself was too great to say yes.
After all, when Peter had offered him the Bite, the Alpha had lost himself too. Feral. Driven insane by the loss of his pack, forced into base instincts, no longer caring about anything but his revenge. If that was the fate of a wolf who lost his pack, then was that risk really worth gaining pack?
A question Stiles would spend the following year pondering.
When the Hale Pack grew stronger, when Stiles, Erica and Boyd were freed from the Argent basement, after Jackson became a real wolf, when they got Cora out of the bank vault.
When made himself an invaluable member of the Hale Pack after his resurrection and then, when Derek gave up the Alpha spark to save Cora’s life, claimed an Alpha spark by killing Kali.
When Peter became the new Hale Alpha. Became a good Alpha.
Do you want the Bite? Yes or no?
It rattled loose in Stiles’ brain. The intensity of Peter’s eyes, the gentle hold on Stiles’ wrist, the way Peter’s breath had puffed warmly against his pulse as his wrist was so close to the man’s face. The way Peter’s mouth had opened, his fangs had dropped, so close to sinking into Stiles’ wrist. The look on Peter’s face when he offered.
Do you want the Bite? Yes or no?
The fact that Peter had asked. Had offered. Had waited for Stiles’ consideration.
A courtesy and respect that he hadn’t had for Scott, or for Lydia. He just took what he needed, no care for who got hurt along the way, expecting to force his will onto them to get what he wanted if necessary.
Yet when Stiles had twisted his arm out of Peter’s hold and said no, the Alpha left.
Left a confused, yearning boy behind, who wouldn’t be able to shake this encounter.
When Stiles started noticing the symptoms, he thought about the offer even more often. The Bite had cured Scott’s asthma, but because being a werewolf made him sturdier, stronger, faster – that came with these perks. The Bite wouldn’t be able to cure a deteriorating brain disease, not when it already took root. Not when part of his brain was already gone. It didn’t grow back brain matter that was already gone. It’d stop his brain from deteriorating further, but the damage as was would remain.
And so Stiles sat curled up in his bedroom, thinking about the cold, stuffy parking garage and intense blue eyes and Yes or No? and if he would be better now if he had said yes. If he’d accepted the Bite before his condition got noticeably bad.
And so he sat in his bedroom and cried. Mourned his mother all over again as he relived the memories with the perspective of this will be you. He cried for his father, who had lost himself when Claudia had died and would lose himself again when Stiles died. He cried for his pack, which he had worked so hard to keep together, to protect, to be a part of. And he cried for the missed opportunity.
If he had said yes, if he had accepted the Bite, then he wouldn’t be in this situation. And maybe, things in the past year would have been easier too. Maybe he could have helped more, instead of being the pack’s bench-warmer, the one who stayed back at the loft and did research while the wolves charged into battle. Maybe his dad would have believed him about the supernatural right away if Stiles had been a wolf himself. Maybe Stiles could have protected his dad better from the Darach, if he had been a wolf, would have been able to hear Miss Blake with Lydia and Noah, would have been fast enough to run there, had sharp enough fangs and claws to tear into her before she could ever take his dad.
And then there was that small part of him that whispered about the implicit other offer that he had declined.
Because Stiles wasn’t stupid. He knew everyone – Scott, Lydia, Jackson, Boyd, Erica, Isaac – had been bitten on the meaty part of their body, the side, to ensure the Bite would take. It had very quickly seemed odd to him, that Peter held his wrist up to offer the Bite to him. A quick research session in the Hale Vault later and he had his confirmation that the Bite on the wrist was the mate-bite.
Part of him couldn’t regret rejecting it. Peter had been feral, dangerous, the very thing Stiles was fighting. He hadn’t known the man back then, would have never wanted a romantic or sexual relationship with the Peter he had first met.
And maybe, if he had accepted the Bite back then, Peter would have never become the man he was now. Stiles knew that his death and resurrection had rightened some things in Peter’s mind, and coming into the pack as a beta, gaining everyone’s respect, was what had shaped him into the Alpha he was now. If he had just lived back then, stayed Alpha the way he had been back then, Peter would be a different man now.
So on account of that, Stiles couldn’t regret rejecting the Bite.
On account of the man Peter had become though, well, Stiles would be lying if he said he didn’t long and regret. The thought that this man – this sarcastic, wicked smart, vicious, gorgeous, competent, caring (toward his pack, at least) man – could have been his?
Even with the rational part of his brain telling him that Peter wouldn’t be this Peter if Stiles had accepted the Bite back then, it was hard not to imagine. To fantasize about a life where Peter was his, where Stiles was his Alpha Mate, a werewolf, equal to the Alpha. Loved and cherished by a man who loved so fiercely and determined.
But Stiles had missed his chance. He’d rejected Peter, set Peter on fire and had helped kill the then feral Alpha. They – Stiles, Scott and Jackson – could be glad to even be allowed into the man’s pack after that. Derek too, he supposed, but then things between the Hales were infinitely complicated. They loved each other as much as they hated each other.
Still, after becoming the Alpha, Peter could have been vindictive, spiteful, hold a grudge. Could have denied his only own bitten Beta a place in the Hale Pack, could have turned the boy who threw the first Molotov cocktail away, could have ignored Jackson because Jackson was complicated – came as a package deal with Lydia, who was still not exactly on good terms with Peter.
Instead, Peter accepted them all with a slightly smug smile.
Because they had become the one thing Peter cared about. Pack. Fighting against the Darach and the Alpha Pack together had forged their group into a proper pack. Peter had grown fond of Erica, seemed to get some enjoyment out of Isaac’s snark, appreciated Boyd’s quiet nature and fighting spirit. And he must have come to appreciate them too.
So even if Stiles didn’t get to be the Alpha Mate, at least he got to be a member of the pack. That was worth something too, wasn’t it? And Peter and him worked so well together. Stiles had come to cherish their shared strategic meetings a lot. It was one of the things he’d fallen for in the Alpha, his sharp mind, the way he could keep up with Stiles, challenged Stiles.
Stiles was going to miss that, when he was going to forget Peter. Or would he?
Maybe it’d be even worse. Maybe he would forget the new first and only remember the old. Remember the feral beast he’d helped kill. Forget the friend and protective Alpha he had come to cherish.
The thought broke his heart and made him wish all over again that he had accepted the Bite.
Maybe he wouldn’t be sick then. Maybe he would have a matebond with Peter that would be stronger than any memory-loss. Maybe he could sit in his mate’s arms and cry into his chest right now, instead of sitting alone on his bed crying to himself.
Yes or no? Maybe.
/break\
When the pack sat in the waiting room while Stiles was being examined, Peter had felt like his world was cracking and falling apart beneath his feet. He had worked so hard to become a good Alpha, to keep this pack that Stiles cared about so much together as was, even when he edged on with some members of it, even if Scott wouldn’t have been his first, second or third choice as a pack-mate. But he was Stiles’ best friend, Stiles’ brother by anything but blood. They were a package deal and if Peter wanted Stiles, he had to accept Scott.
And he wanted Stiles. He wanted Stiles more than he had ever wanted anything. Even in his feral state, he had seen how brilliant, beautiful and perfect that boy was. How ruthless, violent and vindictive he was, when he set Peter on fire. It only made Peter want him more. That kind of bravery and vindictiveness? Peter wanted that on his side.
By his side, ideally. As his Alpha Mate. Alas, things hadn’t worked out that way. Peter had died, had lost the Alpha spark and was a pariah in the Hale Pack. He spent months working hard to gain a place in the pack, played nice with Derek’s bitten pups, forced himself to defer to his stubborn nephew.
It got easier, with time. He found himself genuinely enjoying Erica and Boyd’s company, was delighted about the petty fights between Scott and Jackson, chuckled at Isaac’s snarky commentary. The highlight of being a part of the Hale Pack was Stiles though.
Watching his clever boy work out problems, find solutions, figure out what was wrong. Sitting over old tomes with Stiles for hours, debating strategies and spinning theories. It was all he could want. Well no, that was a lie. His fangs still itched to sink onto pale flesh, to mark, to claim.
But it was all he could have hoped for. After all, the boy had set him on fire before. So this, dare he say it, friendship between them was more than he had anticipated when resurrecting himself.
And all of a sudden, that was being threatened. By a sickness Peter couldn’t do anything about. The feeling of helplessness was no less overwhelming than it had been curing the coma. Peter had burned and watched the people he loved die before his eyes, unable to do anything, but he had vowed to never let that happen again. And here he was, forced to watch Stiles die.
When they realized that Stiles wasn’t sick, wasn’t dying, it was the first time Peter could breathe again all day. And just like that, his single-minded focus returned to him.
If Stiles was possessed by a demon, then Peter could do something. Could save his boy.
Step two, after tracking down and capturing the runaway fox, was to get into his mind. Separate the demon from the boy. Peter may be the Alpha with the magic claws, but he had to admit that he didn’t know his boy well enough to confidently claim he would be able to wander Stiles’ mind.
He took Scott with him.
As much animosity as there was between the two wolves, there was one thing they could agree on and that was Stiles. And so they ventured into Stiles’ mind together. But Peter’s own thoughts were racing, left stunned and speechless as he took in Stiles’ mindscape.
It was a parking garage.
A shiny, brightly lit, clean white parking garage without any cars in it, but it was a parking garage.
It catapulted Peter back to that day, the day he had snatched his boy away and made an offer that was then rejected. The feeling of Stiles’ soft skin against Peter’s, the sound of his quickened heartbeat, the scent of his excitement, fear and curiosity. The sound of Stiles’ voice when he claimed he didn’t want to be like Peter and, more importantly even, the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat stumbling.
There was a large tree stump at the center of the parking garage, tearing Peter out of his reminiscing, because atop the tree sat Stiles and the Nogitsune, playing Go.
Not Stiles’ game. The fox’s game. A sign that the fox was more in control? Or a sign that his boy was tricking the fox? If anyone could, Peter knew it’d be Stiles.
Peter didn’t even have to think about it. It wasn’t a conscious decision on his part, it was pure instinct.
There sat his chosen mate, a member of his pack, alone and defenseless with a monster.
A monster, making an offer in a parking garage.
Peter roared. Roared louder than he ever had in his life. An Alpha’s roar, claiming his Beta, calling for his pack, trying to intimidate the fox away from his boy.
Stiles jolted into action and overthrew the Go board.
/break\
Everything was a bit of a blur after that. After Peter and Scott got out of Stiles’ mind again. The Nogitsune ran away, Stiles was weakened, the oni were still a threat. The pack came together to fight the Nogitsune and Peter felt a sense of satisfaction at sinking his fangs into the bastard, changing his shape so Derek could trap him in the Hale jar. To be locked away forever.
“Fancy finding you here,” Peter quipped as he got out of his car.
He walked over to the Jeep, looking at the boy sitting on the hood. Stiles had his legs pulled up against his chest, his arms around them. He was still pale – even by Stiles’ standards – and had dark bags beneath his eyes. Was still cold to the touch too, Peter noted when he rested a hand on the boy’s arm. Hopefully, he would get better, given time.
“How did you find me?” Stiles asked with a confused frown.
Peter hesitated and instead turned to look at the row of cars in front of them. “Your mind… was a startlingly familiar place. So when you sneaked out of your own celebration, I… took an educated guess.”
Stiles raised his eyebrows with a mortified look on his face. “You…”
“Recognized it?” Peter smirked, aiming for a teasing tone. “Of course. It’s the place of one of my greatest regrets.”
“Gee, thanks,” Stiles rolled his eyes. “I know I’m a disaster but you don’t have to put that much emphasis on regretting offering me the Bite. Asshole.”
“That is not the part I regret, sweetheart,” Peter tilted his head and then climbed up onto the Jeep’s hood to sit next to Stiles. “Well, no. Perhaps I do regret offering you the Bite. But only because I was out of my mind. I wouldn’t have been able to provide you what that offer should have meant.”
“And what would that have been?” Stiles asked softly, heart skipping.
Peter turned to look at Stiles, to get lost in his warm, golden-brown eyes. “The Bite I was offering you should have promised you pack and stability. The sorry excuse I had for a pack back then wouldn’t have been able to provide that.”
He reached for Stiles’ hand, his thumb gently tracing Stiles’ wrist as he lifted it up to his mouth. “The Bite I was offering you should have promised you love and protection. A mate who would be able to cherish you and to provide for you. I wasn’t that Alpha. I was driven by base instincts. You were perfect for me and I wanted you selfishly, with no regard to the fact that I was far from perfect for you. That I wasn’t what you deserved.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to Stiles’ wrist, causing the boy’s heart to race loudly. “Peter… You can’t just say things like that.”
“Why not?” Peter’s lips curved in an amused smile. “I made myself part of Derek’s pack so I could avoid becoming feral again, but also so I could be close to you. I have done… so many things in the past months with the sole purpose of becoming someone deserving of you. Even when I thought I would never be, that gaining your friendship and trust would be all I could ever hope for.”
Stiles swallowed hard and Peter watched his throat mesmerized. There were moles there that he would like to lick, to trace with his tongue and lips. A blush rose to Stiles’ cheeks, his heartbeat not calming down at all.
“You shouldn’t talk like that,” Stiles muttered. “Like you still want me. I get it, I just nearly died. You were afraid to lose me. That will pass and you’ll-“
“Never, sweetheart,” Peter interrupted him fiercely, pressing a more determined kiss to Stiles’ wrist. “I will never tire of you, I will never stop wanting you, I will never regret wanting you.”
Stiles’ breath hitched and the next moment, the boy’s arms were around Peter’s neck, pulling him into a clumsy but enthusiastic kiss. Peter blinked startled before he regained his composure and wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist to pull him closer.
“Ask me again,” Stiles whispered pleadingly. “Do it right this time. Court me, and then ask me again.”
A brilliant smile stretched over Peter’s lips at that, even where he had been willing to tell his boy no at that first request. Because right now, Stiles was in no space of mind to make that decision. Less than twenty-four hours ago, he had nearly died, he’d only just exorcised a demon that had made him believe he was sick. That kind of rush of emotions wasn’t the kind of mindset one needed to make such a decision. But if his boy allowed Peter to court him? Then yes, Peter would gladly do that, would prove himself a worthy mate to Stiles and then he would ask again.
Would it be too cheesy if he’d ask for Stiles’ hand in mating at the garage again…?
~*~ The End ~*~