Archive of Our Own ^beta

Teen Wolf || Stetopher || Teen Wolf || Surprise Wedding Guest || Teen Wolf || Stetopher || Teen Wolf

Title: Surprise Wedding Guest – The Best Wedding Gift Ever

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, Neckz 'n Throats AU, Pack Alpha Peter, Pack Feels, sexual assault, hurt/comfort, fluff, f/f, m/f

Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles

Side Pairings: Scott/Allison, Boyd/Erica, Jackson/Lydia, Malia/Kira

Teen Wolf Characters:

Hale Pack: Peter Hale, Chris Argent, Derek Hale, Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, Isaac Lahey, Cora Hale, Allison Argent, Malia Tate

McCall Pack: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Scott McCall, Jackson Whittemore, Lydia Martin, Kira Yukimura, Liam Dunbar, Hayden Romero, Mason Hewitt

Summary: Allison and Malia invite their fathers' celebrity crush, famous Neckz 'n Throats model Stiles, to Chris and Peter's wedding, thinking they may get a signed autograph and a gift basket from PR. Instead, Stiles shows up in person. But that should have been it. Until Stiles' stalker tries to kill him and he ends up hiring Chris' security company.

Surprise Wedding Guest

The Best Wedding Gift Ever

Stiles grinned and had a skip to his steps as he entered his office. Today was mail day. He loved mail day. Which was precisely why it had been put on a Monday, to condition him into liking Mondays. Every Monday morning, a pile of his fan mail would be waiting on his vanity and he could start his day nice and slow with praise, compliments and happy thoughts that would set the tone for the entire week to come by putting him in the best mood.

Granted, mail day hadn't always been a purely positive occasion, before Lydia had stepped in. She sorted through Stiles' mail for him and made sure only the good and positive stuff would reach him. Stiles was a model for a soft porn magazine specializing in a werewolf clientele called Neckz 'n Throats and that, naturally, didn't just draw positive attention. Pearl-clutchers praying for his soul and condemning him for his sins, many unsolicited dick picks and propositions that were more of the rapey kind. Now, Stiles never had to see any of those. Only the good.

He made a small, pleased noise when he saw his pile of treasures. Putting his coffee on his desk, he sat down and grabbed the first letter with a giddy grin. Validation was so sweet.

Dear Stiles, we're Allison and Malia. We're about to be sisters and our dads are your biggest fans.

Stiles blinked surprised. Well, that sure was an opening line, huh. He was a soft porn star. Very, very soft – quite frankly, by human standards most what he did was more artful photography than porn, since the attention was, as the magazine's name suggested, on necks, throats and also chests (but that name would have been too long, he mused). The most he did were shirtless pictures, maybe sometimes a temptingly popped button on his pants but that was it. Never naked, never explicit. Still, a bit weird that these two girls knew what kind of porn their dads liked.

You're how they met, actually. Your Little Red Riding Hood shoot had just come out and both were on the hunt for it, all issues sold out everywhere they checked, until they found one, in the same store, and went for it. Neither wanted to budge and they started arguing so loud, they got kicked out of the store and banned from coming back, neither getting the one issue. Both were so annoyed by this, they kept arguing over coffee and the argument turned into them talking about you and then it somehow turned pleasant. They exchanged numbers, started dating and now, three years later, they are finally about to get married.

Okay, that was the stupidest, cutest shit Stiles had ever heard. His cheeks hurt from smiling.

Now, they refused to tell us this story for over a year until they finally caved. We did kind of regret asking after that. And then we made fun of them for months.

Stiles snickered to himself. He already liked those two, even if he had never met them. Making fun of their dad is a child's right. He reached out for one of the boxes of chocolates in his mail pile and popped a piece into his mouth before he continued reading.

My (Allison) dad has had it really tough. His sister went to prison when I was little. My mom killed herself when I was a teen and not long after, my grandpa – my dad's only other living relative – died of cancer. He raised me on his own, did his best and was always brave for me, but I knew he was struggling and lonely. Until he met Peter.

My (Malia) dad raised me alone with his siblings' help when my mom left me at his doorsteps, uninterested in motherhood. And then he had to raise me and my three cousins all on his own after a fire burned down our family home with my aunts, uncles and three of my cousins dying in it. He was barely twenty-eight and had to take care of two young kids and two teens while recovering from the trauma himself. He always put on a snarky and carefree attitude with us, but I always knew that it was hard on him and that he wasn't truly happy. Until he met Chris.

Oh, these manipulative, cunning ladies. Stiles swallowed hard. They so put that in there to pull on his heart-strings. And pulling it did. Stiles stuffed two pieces of chocolate in his mouth.

They both lost more than most other people could endure and we're so happy they found each other. They're getting married in three weeks, on the 26th, and we wanted to do something nice for them. They're already not getting a honeymoon because college tuition for five kids does eat up money fast, but we at least want their wedding to be unforgettable. So this is why we're writing you this letter. We're inviting you to the wedding, since you're the reason they met, we thought this would be something special. We understand that your schedule is very busy, but we thought it was worth trying. Thank you for reading this, yours Allison and Malia soon-to-be Argent-Hale

Stiles bit his lips and read the letter again, before putting it aside. He went through five other letters, before he picked this one up one more time. The getting together story was just too cute. It was so thoughtful that their daughters wanted to do this for them. All the loss both men had faced made his heart ache, because he knew loss too and knew how hard it was to keep going.

"Lydia, goddess of my life," Stiles called out loudly. "Clear my schedule on the 26th."

/break\

Allison and Malia stared, wide-eyed. They'd recognize that face anywhere, it was plastered all over their dads' house, after all. Framed photos from the tamer shoots. The moles were unmistakable, really. Still, neither of them could believe their eyes as they looked at Stiles, in a well-fitting black suit and red dress-shirt, standing right in front of them.

"You must be Allison and Malia. I loved your letter."

This was really happening. Stiles had come to their dads' wedding. The sisters turned to look at each other, still with wide and disbelieving eyes. Neither had expected Stiles to actually show up. They'd read online about these things, people inviting celebrities to weddings and the PR person who read the letter would then send like a gift basket or something. They'd hoped for maybe an autographed picture and a fruit basket that they could proudly pass on to their dads.

"You… actually came," Malia spoke slowly. "To the wedding."

Stiles blinked at them. "That… is what you invited me to, yes?"

"Sorry, yes, of course," Allison blushed embarrassed. "We just honestly didn't expect you to actually come? We thought someone in your PR team would just send a gift in your name or something. This is amazing! We are so grateful and happy! Just, also very surprised."

Stiles cocked his head with a grin. "What can I say, I am a hopeless romantic. And I do love a good wedding, and free food, so this seems like a great way to spend a Sunday."

Allison actually squealed a little and grabbed Malia's hand in her excitement. "Okay, awesome. But like we don't want the surprise to hijack the wedding itself! So maybe you sit down more in the back, out of sight, and then when it comes to congratulating them after, you could maybe meet them briefly, if that is okay?"

"That is the purpose of me being here," Stiles chuckled, clearly amused by them.

Allison blushed a little harder. She'd never interacted with someone famous before. And Stiles was famous, even beyond the werewolf soft porn scene that had launched his career and that he, unquestionably, dominated (yes, Allison read these magazines too. There were hot, shirtless werewolves in them, sue her). He did perfume commercials, modeling gigs for clothes. He'd even been in two movies already, as the pretty boy love interest in a YA werewolf movie in one and a more co-star leading role in a spy movie. Stiles was famous famous, the kind that had breached containment of his original profession and was now known by most people. Allison could already see necks craning and guests whispering as they spoke.

"Let's get you inside and seated," Allison urged, leading the way.

/break\

The ceremony was beautiful. Stiles really did love weddings. Both grooms were hot as burning, one with a broader built and gray in his well-kept beard and hair, the other with a very temptingly broad neck and incredibly hot ass, a trimmed goatee and dark hair slicked back. They looked so good together, especially in their matching tuxes. And their vows were so cute and sappy, including a more decent version of their get together story (excluding what the item they had fought over was).

The one with the goatee was Peter, as Stiles learned during the vows, and the silver fox was Chris. Allison and Malia stood on either side of their dads in their matching bridesmaid (groomsmaid?) dresses in bright blue, matching the flowers in Peter and Chris' tuxes. With them stood two other young women, one with long black hair, older than the others, another brunette around their age, as well as a stiff and uncomfortable looking guy with a wicked jawline, scruff and intense eyebrows. Stiles was going to guess those were the cousins the girls had mentioned in their letter.

Everyone cheered and clapped and then went outside. The happy couple got to stand aside and accept congratulations and hugs and presents from everyone. Stiles stuck to the back of the line, kept letting people pass him while pulling his hat a little lower into his face whenever someone looked at him for too long. Until every other guest had congratulated the husbands and Stiles was the last one left. He put on his best press smile, tilting his head back and looking at them both. Their faces were absolutely priceless as they shifted from polite but slightly tired smiles (they had been thanking people for nearly twenty minutes at that point) into absolute slack-jawed shock.

"That was a lovely ceremony," Stiles offered, smiling brightly. "And I wish you two the happiest marriage and the best of luck."

"Stiles," Chris croaked out, clearing his throat a little embarrassed. "You're… You're Stiles."

Close by, they could hear Allison and Malia giggling, which Stiles took as permission to expose them. "Ye—ep. Your daughters sent me a lovely letter and invited me to the wedding, said since I'm the one who got you together, I should also witness the wedding."

Both men flushed endearingly at that. Heh. Wasn't a story they wanted him to know, apparently. Well, probably wasn't a story they wanted anyone to know. Honestly, Stiles just found it flattering. He reached out his hand and waited patiently until Chris actually shook it, finally tearing himself out of whatever was going through his head. After, Stiles also shook Peter's hand.

"I do hope it's not a problem though," Stiles frowned a little. "They did invite a total stranger to your wedding. So, if you don't want me at the reception, I can go again, guess the girls did get what they wanted out of it. You met me."

"No," Peter was quick to speak, a soft growl to his voice before he offered a charming smile. "Please, do stay. We would love to get the chance to perhaps talk to you, at one point?"

"Would love that," Stiles grinned. "But I think right now everyone's waiting for you guys to lead the way to food. The girl I sat next to kept complaining about how she hadn't gotten to eat all day because she had to do 'the damn flower arrangements' and was owed 'at least two steaks'."

"Erica," Chris and Peter both groaned.

The looks on their faces were fond though, so Stiles smiled. He gave a little playful salute before falling back and following the rest of the herd toward the location for the reception. And he was glad that he could follow them, because he absolutely would not have been able to find this place out in the woods down a winding road. They reached a beautiful house, the outside set with countless tables, benches and flower arrangements.

/break\

"Stiles," Peter growled, face buried in Chris' neck. "They invited Stiles. To our wedding."

"Mhmh," Chris grinned amused. "Dibs on cashing in my celebrity pass if I get the chance."

"Unfair," Peter glared at him. "You would truly take a stranger to bed on our wedding day?"

"It's Stiles," Chris arched one eyebrow. "You would do the same if you have the chance."

They both cracked a smile at that and then started laughing. Stiles was the only name on either of their celebrity pass list. The one person they would not count as cheating, the one person where they'd both be jealous of each other if the other ever had a chance to sleep with.

"He looks gorgeous," Peter muttered, finding Stiles over Chris' shoulder.

Chris turned them around, swaying with the music, so he could take a look himself. And yes, Stiles looked absolutely delectable in his suit and with the top two buttons of his dress-shirt popped at this point. Chris and Peter had just given their thank you speech and were having their first dance while the staff they'd hired were setting up the buffet.

"I can't believe our girls did that," Chris whispered baffled.

Peter hummed his agreement and, after their dance, they went to corner their daughters. Malia looked unapologetic and Allison looked a little sheepish.

"We didn't think he'd show," Malia admitted with a shrug. "We thought his PR team would just send us a signed photo and you two would have another picture to frame on a wall."

That… did make sense and was a very clever and thoughtful idea. The husbands turned to look at Stiles again, who was seated with Erica and Erica's husband Boyd, animatedly talking to Erica right now. When he felt their eyes on him, he looked up, grinned and waved at them, causing Chris and Peter to quickly turn back to their daughters. This was absolutely unreal.

"Thank you," Chris smiled, pulling them both into a hug. "This was very sweet of you."

Both girls relaxed in his arms and hugged him back before Peter joined the hug. He agreed with his husband, but he also wasn't entirely sure what to do with the famous model now. Well, his wolf had quite some ideas, growling just below the surface, ready to pounce at the pretty boy, mark that pale neck up, claim—Also known as things he could not do and should not even entertain in his head.

"Now go and talk to him," Malia urged annoyed. "He's actually here. You can look at him all day with all the pictures you have of him. This your chance to actually speak with him."

She wasn't wrong, but did she have to be so blunt about it? Peter sighed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Not right now, right now they were starving and it would draw decidedly too much attention. Dinner first, but after, when everyone would mingle, they'd find their pretty boy.

/break\

Dinner had been amazing and Stiles had actually done a promotional post about it, because Erica and her husband owned the restaurant that did the catering and though he'd only known Erica and Boyd for an hour now, he totally adored them. So he took a selfie with both and with his half-full plate in front of him, tagging Boyd's restaurant and praising the great cooking. Erica had squealed and kissed him on the cheek in thanks, while Boyd had been more restrained but no less grateful.

He grinned mischievously as he walked up to the husbands and tapped Peter on the shoulder. "Care for a dance, Mister Argent-Hale?"

Peter's face brightened with a pleased and hungry smile. "I'd love nothing more."

"Maybe not something you should say on your wedding day, while your husband's standing right next to you," Stiles chuckled and then winked at Chris. "You're next."

That put an equally pleased look on Chris' face. It did feel nice to be wanted, even though he knew it was all purely physical. It always was. His good looks, fame and money drew people in and he'd had many successful strings of one-night-stands but never had a proper, functioning relationship. As soon as things went on for more than a couple dates, people tended to get annoyed by his personality, his constant rambling and fidgeting, his special interests – all the things that didn't make it onto the still pages of a porn mag. And that hurt. And there was a pit in his stomach. But there was nothing he could do about it. He was a pretty thing to look at and idolize for people, not a real person they wanted to bother to get to know.

"We are glad that you came," Peter said as he took Stiles' hand in one and rested his other hand on Stiles' hip. "We've both wanted the chance to meet you. Even tried to apply to that charity shoot you did last year. We spent… an embarrassing amount of money on trying to win it."

Last year, Stiles had done a shoot with a newbie, a fan, that could have been won by buying tickets to be put into a lottery. The money for the tickets bought all went into dementia research and care facilities, a passion protect of his that he regularly donated to himself.

"Well, I wish you would have won then," Stiles grinned, though he knew it wasn't genuine. "The shoot was a total clusterfuck and I will not do that again, I'm afraid."

Peter frowned at him, not just disappointed but near concerned. "How come?"

"The guy who won, Theo, he…" Stiles winced. "Got a little too handsy. Which is already annoying enough if the person isn't a werewolf whose handsiness leaves bruises for weeks."

A growl, possessive and angry and really fucking hot, rumbled in Peter's chest at that. "I'm very sorry to hear that. People should know to respect your boundaries, and he should have been grateful for the chance at the shoot at all."

It was the sincerity in Peter's voice that had Stiles' heart stumble a little. "Don't worry about it. Happens all the time. Hazard of the job are fans who feel entitled to your body just because you put it on display for money."

"That should not be something you say so casually," Peter frowned at him.

It made Stiles laugh softly. "That's a sweet sentiment, but that's just how things go when you're in my line of work and got a certain degree of fame. It's why we got security on set. They pulled the guy off me quick enough that nothing bad happened."

Peter relaxed somewhat and once again, Stiles couldn't help but look at the man's husband. It did feel awkward to be flirted at by a possessive werewolf at said werewolf's wedding. Their dance ended and as soon as Peter stepped away, Chris took Stiles' hand with a pleased smile. Though before Peter left, Chris pressed a kiss to his husband's lips.

"You two looked gorgeous together," Chris whispered against Peter's lips.

"If I were a modest man, I'd say 'that's all him', but I do know that I am a gorgeous specimen and you are a lucky man to have me," Peter smirked with a wink.

"I am," Chris agreed with so much honesty that Peter blushed.

Oh no those two were fucking adorable. Stiles bit his lower lip to keep from cooing at them. And then Peter left, leaving Chris to dance with Stiles. A possessive arm wrapped around his waist and Stiles started to think the husbands had some things in common.

Unlike Peter, Chris seemed to prefer to dance quietly though, simply drinking in the sight and feeling Stiles pressed against him. It was a little flustering and made Stiles feel hot all over.

"So," Stiles drawled, a small grin on his lips. "I actually do have a wedding present for you too."

"You brought yourself, that's present enough," Chris assured him with raised eyebrows.

"A present tends to be something you get to keep," Stiles cocked one eyebrow. "I'm not much for being a kept boy, so I'm afraid you'll have to return me."

Well, that was one way to determine who among the guests were werewolves, because the sputtering and cackling at his words were very telling. Back at their table with their family, Peter was staring intensely at Stiles, raw hunger in his eyes like he was picturing in great detail what Stiles as their kept boy would be like. Bit creepy, bit flattering, very intense.

Clearing his throat, Stiles pushed off Chris just a little so he could get the envelope out of his pocket and give it to Chris. "Two little birdies told me that you guys wouldn't be able to get a honeymoon and that just can't stand. Newly weds need to enjoy themselves and a romantic get-away."

Their dance paused when Chris reached for the envelope to open it. Stiles was also aware of all the werewolf eyes boring into him curiously by now. It seemed they all wanted to know what Stiles had gotten them. The man made a strangled noise and looked up at him like Stiles was some rare mythological creature that hadn't been seen in centuries.

"These are plane tickets. To Paris," Chris whispered stunned.

Within a second, Peter was pressed against his husband's side, peering over Chris' shoulder to see. Stiles smiled patiently, waiting for them to digest this before he spoke.

"I don't know when you can clear your schedules and take time off so they're without a date," Stiles explained. "But they will be valid for any flight within the next year. Return tickets too, of course. Wouldn't want to strand you in Paris. Though there are worse places to be stuck in…"

"That is…" Chris made a slightly strangled sound. "Incredibly generous and not to sound ungrateful, but we really don't have the budget right now for a hotel-"

"Oh, no," Stiles interrupted and reached forward to pull the handwritten note out of the envelope. "That's the information of a beautiful little estate. When you settle on a date for your honeymoon, call this number, tell the lady your name and then she'll book you. It's all arranged, a room will be saved for you whenever you're ready."

"I don't know what to say," Peter admitted. "Thank you seems inadequate."

"Nonsense," Stiles grinned. "Thank you is enough."

"These are flights to Paris. We know how expensive those are, we did look into them when we started planning the wedding," Peter argued with a frown. "And a stay there? That's a lot."

Stiles refrained from commenting that it was more like spare change for him, really. He'd spent more money on his last shopping trip with Lydia, Kira, Mason and Hayden. Which, admittedly, was related to Lydia's expensive taste and Mason's indecisiveness, but still.

"This is a wedding gift and it is rude to refuse a gift," Stiles said instead, still grinning, though his face softened some. "Your daughters told me some things in their letter and it sounded like you've spent the past couple years putting your kids, including your niblings, before yourselves. So accept the treat, you deserve to take care of yourselves for a change."

Peter swallowed hard, but he finally nodded. "Thank you, then."

"It does not feel like enough, but thank you," Chris frowned. "I want to do more than that."

"You could send me a postcard to let me know how you liked Paris," Stiles offered with a wink. "Now, I think I've hogged you long enough, your guests want your attention back and I think I promised Erica a dance earlier. Enjoy the rest of your wedding day."

Within seconds did Erica materialize right next to him, eager grin on her red lips before she wrapped her arms around his neck and demanded that dance. Stiles grinned as he followed her lead.

/break\

Stiles hadn't really thought much about Chris and Peter. Well, that was a lie. He had thought about that ruggedly handsome silver fox and his drop-dead gorgeous werewolf husband a few times in the first like two or three weeks after the wedding. They'd just radiated love so, so much, like exactly what Stiles always dreamed of having one day but started to believe he just wasn't cut out for.

By the time he found a postcard from Paris in his weekly mail pile though, he hadn't actively thought about them in at least two weeks. So it hit him by surprise. Pleasant surprise though. They'd chosen a beautiful card, not the cliche Eiffel tower, instead one from a hill that oversaw all of Paris, and they'd even written a few words of gratitude and how beautiful it was. It made him smile warmly and feel content on a day that had been rough and exhausting.

So really, he could not be blamed for opening his laptop and checking insta to see if either of the handsome husbands had an account. He just wanted to see how much they'd enjoyed the honeymoon that he had paid for. And maybe check them out too, damn they'd been gorgeous.

He nursed his coffee with a small smile while scrolling through Peter's account and watching the two be utterly and disgustingly in love as they explored Paris together. He even managed to ignore the bang of loneliness in his heart, for the most part.

/break\

Erica was sprawled out on the couch, her feet comfortably in Isaac's lap, her head in Boyd's. Her mate was gently running his fingers through her hair in that way that always made her feel all gooey and happy. She grinned broadly as she read Stiles' latest text.

Batman: CATWOMAN I AM SO BORED. I WILL DIE. I WILL BE THE FIRST PERSON TO EVER ACTUALLY DIE OF BOREDOM.

A string of upset emojis followed it. Erica cackled softly to herself. When she sat next to him at church, she hadn't even recognized him, hadn't really looked at him. Only at the house, for the reception, had she recognized Chris and Peter's hot celebrity crush. And then he'd gone ahead and been actually awesome and not pretentious or stuck-up the way she would have expected from a famous person. He'd praised Boyd's cooking and even taken a selfie with them and posted it on his own account and tagged their restaurant in it, which had brought them so much revenue since.

When the two of them had danced at the end of the day, she'd dared and asked for his number. Not for hook-up reasons, she had assured him, because she was very happy and very monogamous with her husband, but because she just really had a good time talking to him all night. He'd been reluctant at first, but in the end given her his number and she'd saved it under Batman, because she had made a Bruce Wayne secret identity joke about how he wasn't anything like the model persona he played. Over the following weeks of texting, he'd started calling her Catwoman and she loved it. The wedding had been three months ago and at this point, she would genuinely call Stiles her best friend. Somehow, she had become best friends with a werewolf soft porn star.

Catwoman: You can't die of boredom, dork. You'll be fi—ine, occupy your ADHD somehow

Batman: No. Nope. I'm gonna die. Look at the face of boredom

Next, he sent a photo and at first, she snorted at the exaggerated bored look on Stiles' face, but the smile quickly died on her lips. She sat up so abruptly, it startled not just Isaac and Boyd, but also got her the attention of Derek and Cora on the other couch. Cora warily looked up from her university homework, while Derek lowered his book concerned. Not that Erica paid them much mind, she was fidgeting with her phone to dial Stiles' number.

"Catwoman!" Stiles' enthusiastic voice came through the speaker as soon as the call connected. "So you have mercy with me after all and decided to distract me from my dooming boredom-"

"Stiles," Erica pressed out between gritted teeth. "What happened to you?"

"Huh?" Stiles sounded genuinely confused at that. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Erica's claws popped, digging into her jeans, causing the other wolves to tense further. "The hand-shaped bruises around your throat. Who did that? What happened?"

The moment she finished speaking, Peter and Chris came rushing down the stairs, Peter looking distressed and Chris looking confused, having no werewolf hearing to clue him into the conversation. But Peter looked ready for murder. The stretch of silence from Stiles' side was used by Peter to repeat her words to his husband, causing Chris to go rigid, eyes hardening.

"Ah, that," Stiles cleared his throat. "Don't worry about that."

"Absolutely too late for that," Erica growled softly. "I need you to tell me what happened."

Stiles gave a soft little groan at that. "I didn't mean to worry you, I kinda forgot. Otherwise I wouldn't have sent you a picture…"

"Sti—iles," Erica whined, mildly distressed. "I'm serious. You look like someone choked you."

"Because someone did," Stiles drawled out dryly before giving another frustrate sigh. "Remember that charity shoot I told you about, the one that had gone south?"

"The guy who was lucky enough to win a shoot with you and then decided to use it to molest you? Yeah, I remember that," Erica glowered, shooting a glare at her now growling Alpha. "Why?"

"So that may not have been the end of it," Stiles sighed again. "He didn't just want the opportunity to get lucky with me. He also thought a shoot with me could launch his own career. Which I kind of ended before it ever had a chance, because a guy who can't keep his hands to himself? And a wolf who thinks he can get what he wants just because his partner's human? Yeah, no. I'm not letting that into the industry. I pulled some strings and contacted every label I knew to get him banned."

"Well done, Batman," Erica grinned a little.

She'd leaned back against Boyd's chest at that point, her mate pulling her close against himself. The longer the call went on, the closer Isaac had inched to them, pressing against Erica to comfort her. Her heartbeat must have been crazy with worry too. Chris and Peter still stood behind the couch, holding tightly onto the backrest, not sitting down but standing tensely.

"He would disagree with you on that," Stiles snorted. "He wasn't a fan of that, or of me anymore, when he found out. He's… been sending me threats for the better part of the past year. Graphic descriptions of what he'd do to me if he ever got his hands on me. Funny, choking the life out of me wasn't part of any threats as far as I know…"

"Are you going to make me ask again what happened?"

"I got home late from a shoot last week and when I entered my bedroom, he was already there. He threw me against the door, choked me until I couldn't scream for help and then threw me onto my bed. That gave me enough time to croak out a cry for help though," Stiles retold it factually, nearly detached. "Guess he thought I'd be an easy victim because I'm human. He didn't know I'm part of a pack, or that my mansion is our pack house. He had four angry werewolves, a vindictive banshee and a kitsune with her katana at his throat. Heck, even Mason – who is as human as it gets – came running in, wielding a bat. Like, a wooden baseball bat. It was adorable."

"Stiles, don't deflect and distract," Erica requested softly, pleading. "Are you alright?"

"Well. No. Like I said, I am dying of boredom," Stiles huffed annoyed. "I haven't been allowed to leave my own damn house since then, since the police hasn't found him yet and outside leaves me 'an open target'. I'm not even allowed to be alone in my own home. The pack's been sleeping in a puppy pile in my bed, someone pads after me like a lost puppy if I as much as go to pee at night and will wait in front of the bathroom until I'm done. I am not exaggerating here. I haven't been alone in a week and I haven't left the house in a week either, I'm going stir-crazy."

Erica sighed and rubbed her face, her eyes landing on Chris. "Chris has a security company."

A confused noise came from Stiles. "Huh?"

"Chris. The man on whose wedding we met. Has a security company."

"Yes, no, I remember Chris, I didn't ask 'who', I made a noise of confusion, 'huh'. Because I don't know why you would bring that up—Scott, let go of my phone!"

"Hello, Erica, this is Scott, Stiles' Alpha and best friend who regularly ages a decade due to things Stiles does," a new voice spoke. "Tell me more about that security company. Do they install security systems? Like, werewolf proof ones too? Or are they only personal security? Honestly, I will take either for him at this point. Stop trying to take the phone, Stiles. Jackson, help me out. Erica? Can you maybe get me an appointment with someone?"

Chris gave a firm nod. The look in his eyes scared her a little. It was the cold-blooded steel of the hunter he had left behind so many years ago. But right now, Chris looked ready to come out of retirement to hunt down one specific wolf, and make it hurt.

"Send me your number, I'll arrange something," Erica confirmed. "And yes to all. They do security systems, werewolf proof, and they also provide security guards if needed."

"Not needed," Stiles yelled muffled in the background.

"He licked my hand," a new voice complained.

"That's what you get for trying to silence me, Jacks! I am not above licking!"

"Please," Scott sounded genuinely desperate. "Stiles is the most uncooperative person I know when it comes to others trying to protect him. Anything he can do."

"We could just handcuff him directly to Chris," Erica offered in a chipper voice.

"Tempting and kinky but I think his husband may object," Stiles chuckled.

Erica's gaze landed on Peter and the dark, hungry look on the Alpha's face. Nope. Peter would not mind. A grin spread over Erica's lips, feeling a little relieved now that she knew what was going on and that she could do something to help. Also that Stiles had his pack protect him. Quite frankly, she thought they were right and Stiles should be on the bottom of a puppy pile at the very least until those bruises faded. If he were in their pack, they would be flanking him everywhere too. Someone had broken into their pack house, into Stiles' bedroom, and tried to at least kill him (maybe more).

/break\

Stiles made a small, miserable noise, wiggling between the two worried teen wolves sandwiching him. Out of everyone in the pack, Hayden and Liam were being the most clingy. They were the youngest, the pups of their pack, and had grown attached to Stiles, so there was that. Didn't make it any less suffocating though. The doorbell rang and Stiles tried to get up, hopeful for something – anything – exciting to break his boring days of being coddled by his overprotective pack.

"Sit back down, Stilinski," Jackson ordered with a glare, not even looking up from the magazine him and Lydia were reading. "If you really think we'll let you open the door, you lost your mind."

Lydia, perched on her mate's lap and with the magazine spread on her thighs, hummed her agreement. "You open the door and are open to an attack. Absolutely not."

Stiles groaned and hit the backrest of the couch with his head. Liam snuggled closer to him, pouting. With a sigh did Stiles wrap his arm around the pup and hug him closer, brushing his nose against Liam's hair. Predictably did Hayden on his other side made a disgruntled noise at that, so Stiles wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her closer too.

"Where's my Batman?"

Stiles immediately perked up at the voice. Moments later and Kira entered the living room, followed by none other than Erica… and Chris, Peter and Derek…? The excitement dampened a little with his wary confusion. He hadn't seen, or spoken to, Chris and Peter since their wedding. Sure, he'd gotten the postcard from their honeymoon a month ago and did a bit of minor online stalking, but that was it. And Derek, he only knew the name to the face due to all the pack photos Erica had sent over the past three months.

"Stiles," Peter greeted him with a pleased, suave smile.

The smile didn't reach his eyes, which were fixated on Stiles' throat. And not in the hot way that werewolves tended to look at his throat. In the 'someone tried to strangle you and I can still see the marks of their fingers on your skin' way, that Stiles was getting decidedly too used to and tired of.

"I'm happy to see you, Catwoman, but why did you bring your Alphas as chaperons…? Believe me, my pack is going to chaperon so hard, just look at them. They're not puppies, they're hawks."

Both Hayden and Liam were barely baring their teeth as they stared tensely at the strangers who were a perceived threat to the two young betas. Even Mason on Liam's other side looked tenser and put his book down. While not as clingy as the two wolves, Mason was no less worried about Stiles. As the only two humans in the pack, Stiles had accidentally become a kind of mentor figure to Mason early on and that just kind of never stopped.

"Scott, your visitors are here," Lydia called out.

Scott's visitors? Stiles tensed, and then he openly glared at Chris. Chris, who owned a security company and had swapped numbers with Scott. He breathed out hard through his nose, jaw set tightly as he pushed off the couch, leaving the pups behind. He was not going to be seated when Scott entered the room, he was going to meet his Alpha on eye-level.

The moment Scott came into the living room, he froze at the look Stiles gave him. "Stiles…"

Stiles raised his chin, a mild snarl on his face as he held his best friend's gaze. "So you invite someone to install a security system in my house and don't even tell me."

Usually, Stiles' anger got Scott to back down, that had always been their dynamic. Scott was a friendly guy, he hated confrontations. Stiles was willing to scratch someone's eyes out if it got his point across. This time was different though. This time, Scott didn't back down.

"Yes, Stiles," Scott crossed his arms with a glare. "I invited someone to install a security system in our pack house. And I didn't tell the one member of my pack, who is supposed to focus on his recovery from the bruised ribs, asphyxiation and concussion he got just a week ago, because he should rest and not be concerned with this."

Scott's jaw set tightly. "And I don't appreciate that you're trying the money angle, Stiles. You may have paid for the mansion, but you explicitly declared it our pack house."

At that, Stiles flinched a little, lips curling up into a full snarl. "I didn't mean it like that. You know I don't care about money. I've never guilt-tripped you over paying for shit. It's just that I don't want this, I don't need this. I don't want my own home to feel like a prison."

Even though Scott opened his mouth to continue their argument, it was Peter who cut in. "Not to speak out of turn, but as an Alpha, I think that you should consider your Alpha's responsibilities. Your Alpha is responsible for your safety, whether you like it or not, and your entire pack's safety. You don't live here alone, you can't make this decision alone either. Look at them, the pups haven't stopped snarling since we walked in here, they're wound tight with worry. If you don't care about making yourself feel safe in your home, at least consider making your pack feel safe in their home."

Stiles clenched his jaw, his eyes on Mason, Hayden and Liam on the couch. They really were wound tight. Shoulders hunched, defensive stance, bags under their eyes. Stiles crossed his arms and hunched in on himself just a little.

"Stiles, we love you," Kira offered softly. "I may not know this man, but he's right. Someone broke into our home and made it unsafe, hurt one of our own. We don't feel safe here right now."

"We're piling into your bed not just out of overprotectiveness over you," Lydia added after a moment, voice gentle. "The wolves' instincts are going wild with the fear that something will happen to you again, because it already did, in our home."

"It's just a security system, Stiles," Jackson sighed. "I don't know why you are so against it."

Caged. It made him feel caged. Locked away. Locking the outside world out. And it was like a neon sign that his work wasn't safe, that he had brought danger into his home, just because of his job. Because he had to be so Stiles about something that hadn't been that big of a deal. Theo had groped a feel during a shoot, so what. If he'd just let it slide, he would have never seen the wolf again and all of this wouldn't be happening. All of this was his fault and now their home wasn't safe anymore.

"I should have never said something," Stiles whispered to himself before turning sharply.

He stormed out of the room. He made his way upstairs but came to an abrupt halt in front of his own bedroom, hand shaking as it hovered over the doorknob. He hadn't been alone in his room since it happened. With a bitter glare did he ball a fist and punch the door. This wasn't fair. This was his home, it was supposed to be safe and happy and good. His sanctuary. He shouldn't be afraid to go into his own fucking bedroom. He banged his other fist against the door, leaning heavily against it as a sob broke out of him and just like that, the floodgates were open and he was crying. He slowly slid down the door until he sat hunched against it.

"Are you finally ready to process what happened?" Scott asked softly from behind him.

"He was in my bedroom, Scotty," Stiles croaked out. "He was in my bed."

The moment he spoke, he had Scott against his back, wrapping his arms tightly around Stiles and pulling him close. Stiles let himself be manhandled by the Alpha until he more or less sat in his best friend's lap, leaning against Scott's shoulder and crying into it.

"I know, buddy," Scott murmured. "I know."

"I don't want to be afraid in my own home," Stiles whispered once the crying slowed down.

"That's why I called Mister Argent. I spoke to him on the phone and he gave me a rundown of our options, what we could do to make it safe again," Scott offered, still patting Stiles' back.

"I didn't mean to imply that only I get to decide just because I pay for stuff," Stiles mumbled.

"I know, bro," Scott hugged him tighter. "But I had to be a little mean to make you stop being a stubborn idiot. I'm sorry. I hate being mean to you."

"Didn't even know you were capable of it," Stiles huffed. "Big softie of an Alpha."

He cuffed Scott lightly, making the other laugh. "Okay. Are you… Are you feeling better? Do you think we can go back downstairs and talk to them, together?"

"Let me at least try to save face by washing said face first," Stiles rubbed at the tears on his cheeks, then raised his voice. "I really hope at least one of the betas has enough manners to offer our guests something to drink while they wait."

There was scrambling and nope, apparently none of them had remembered their manners. Stiles sighed and leaned his head back before getting up. He grabbed Scott's hand tightly and pulled the Alpha into his bedroom wordlessly before heading into the adjoined bathroom. Scott didn't comment, just remained a quiet, comforting presence while Stiles cleaned himself up.

"Okay," Stiles checked himself in the mirror one last time and for the first time in days, allowed his own eyes to drop down to the ring of bruises around his throat. "Okay. Let's do this."

Together, they walked downstairs, where everyone had moved on to the dining room and tea and coffee were set out, as well as the left-over cookies from Stiles' stress-baking last night (and the only reason there was anything left over at all was because he'd been stress-baking every night since the incident and even the metabolism of a bunch of wolves wasn't enough to combat the amount of baked goods in the house). Peter was delicately munching on a cookie, legs crossed. Next to him sat his husband, a serious frown on Chris' face and both hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. On Chris' other side was Derek and Stiles still wasn't entirely sure why he was here. Then again, he also wasn't sure why Peter was here. Erica was perched on the very edge of the seat next to Derek, her eyes worried and guilty as she looked at Stiles.

The McCall Pack sat in a line opposite them, which made them look more like two fractions at a treaty meeting or something. After a long look, Stiles decided to sit down at the head of the table between both sides, at the end of the table where the Hales were seated.

"I'm gonna start," Stiles declared. "And you're gonna listen."

He folded his hands in front of himself and leaned forward a little, like he was bracing himself. Scott had sat down next to him, the narrow end of their dining room table still broad enough for two. Stiles' eyes wandered over their pack, Jackson on Scott's left side now, Lydia beside him, a hand on her mate's arm, next to Lydia sat Kira, followed by Hayden, then Liam and at the end of the table Mason. All eyes were on him. He big his lips hard.

"I'm sorry," Stiles started softly. "I know I've been complaining a lot about your hovering and I know I've been selfish about what I don't want for our home, even though you all live here too-"

"You have a right to be selfish, Stiles," Kira pointed out in a soft voice. "You're the one who was sexually assaulted and nearly killed in his own bedroom. I think that gives you the right to be selfish, to try and regain control of things."

Stiles worried his lips. Regain control. That was it, wasn't it? He'd felt patronized by them, the pack telling him where he should or shouldn't go, not letting him out of sight. He'd felt like he had lost control over his life, after control had just been forcibly taken from him in a different way. He appreciated the way the rest of his pack made soft noises of agreement.

"Look, bro," Scott rested a hand on his shoulder. "Whatever we do, we decide together, all of us, because this pack's a democracy, okay? We're not gonna do anything you absolutely object to, but you also gotta give on the things we object to."

"Which leads us to the current stalemate on Stiles not wanting the security system everyone else agrees on," Mason pointed out with a frown.

"There's two options that I can offer you as a compromise so both sides get what they want."

Everyone looked at him with interest at that, including the four members of the Hale Pack, who at this point must be feeling like wasting their time. Then again, if they get paid by the hour, they may as well get paid for sitting there and watching the McCall Pack hash out their own bullshit.

"I'm moving out," Stiles said simply. "That's part of both options. Option one is that I move out and you stay here, get your security system and get to feel safe here again and I'll remove the threat to you by no longer being here. Since he's only after me and I put the pack in danger."

"You didn't put the pack in danger," Scott looked and sounded so frustrated. "This isn't your fault."

"What's option two?" Lydia asked, before this could escalate into the twenty-sixth rendition of the 'it's not your fault' debate that Scott and Stiles kept repeating. "Since option one is clearly unacceptable. You're part of our pack, Stiles, and you are paying for this place. We won't have you pay for a house you don't even live in."

"I'm paying for dad and Melissa's house," Stiles pointed out needlessly.

"That's different, we live there whenever we go home to visit them," Scott countered easily.

"Option two," Lydia pressed, her eyebrows raised.

Stiles leaned back in his chair and stuffed his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. "I can't… stay here. As much as your hovering annoys me, I did just prove to myself that I can't even go into my own fucking bedroom alone without nearly having a panic-attack. You guys are right, he did make our home unsafe. And I don't believe that a security system would fix that. Getting rid of the bed he pinned me in and getting a new one won't fix that, renovating the bedroom to paint over my blood on the wall won't fix that. I'm moving out, I think I need to move out, and it's up to you if you are going to move out with me. If you want to move somewhere else with me."

"That's not even a fucking question, Stilinski," Jackson glared and stretched his feet to lightly kick at him. "Of course we're coming with you. You were not designed to live on your own, who would listen to your endless rants and who'll eat all your stress-baking?"

Stiles' lips twitched into a small smile as the rest of the pack loudly voiced their agreement. Something tight in his chest unfurled and he took a slow, deep breath. With that, he turned toward the Hale Pack, who were all staring at him just as intensely, before he made eye-contact with Chris.

"I don't know jackshit about home-security. You… I think I'd like your help in picking a new place. Be that because you can judge if the security there is acceptable already, or if you can judge what kind of things are possible. If that's, I don't know, a service you provide?"

"We do home-evaluations for high-profile clients who want to make informed decisions before buying a new home," Chris confirmed with a nod. "And we can install any state of the art system that you would like for you, but I think that we should discuss those options after you find a new place, so we can talk in detail about what is possible and what makes sense. Both, with technology and with magic; we have many witches, mages and druids working for us who do wards and runes."

Stiles hummed, nodding pleased and relaxing a little. He bit the inside of his cheek as he considered something else. He hadn't left the house in a week and he'd complained about it, but realistically speaking, after he had just been fully unable to enter his own bedroom? He probably would end up with a panic-attack in the middle of the grocery store because someone from the corner of his eyes had looked vaguely like Theo. Which, beyond exhausting, would be a PR nightmare.

"Do you mind if we take over now?" Chris asked, eyebrows raised. "You look like you're considering something and while you mull that over, I'd like to pitch you what we discussed."

Stiles made a 'be my guest' motion, even though he absolutely hated that they had discussed something already. He hated that they were involved, honestly. Chris and Peter were handsome, had been nice to talk to, but he'd just been their celebrity crush crashing their wedding. They shouldn't be here, in his home, during a time he felt more vulnerable than ever before in his life. It was weird.

"I don't work at Argent Security," Peter said after a moment of silence. "I'm a lawyer. A damn good one. And from what I overheard from your phone-call with Erica, you need one, darling."

"Why?" Stiles asked, genuinely confused. "I'm not in legal trouble."

"You are," Peter raised both his eyebrows. "You have a dangerous stalker and whoever is assigned your case either doesn't care, is ineffective or slacking. You need a restraining order, for starters, and someone who will put pressure on the police department in your name. Someone who will handle this whole situation from a legal side."

Oh. That hadn't even occurred to Stiles yet. He'd just given his statement and let the police handle everything. Not that much got handled so far. He heaved a sigh.

"Yeah, the detective who interviewed me didn't really care all that much," Stiles volunteered after a beat. "He was pretty much of the opinion that I invited all that just because I do porn."

"Artful pictures of you being printed in a respectable magazine does not entitle anyone to your physical body," Peter frowned displeased. "But I believe we already had that conversation."

"Yeah, I know," Stiles gave him a tired look and then shrugged. "Doesn't mean that'll stop others from thinking so. I've been doing this job for years now, I stopped getting angry at these things, all it does is waste my time and make me feel even more like shit."

Peter sighed softly, his frown smoothing out as he placed a business card on the table. "I'm not asking you to make a decision right now, but I did want to pass this on to you. I'd like to represent you, in this and in anything else you may need legal advise on."

Immediately, Stiles turned toward Jackson with a quizzical look, but the beta shrugged. "Dad's the company's lawyer. You're entitled to have private representation. Honestly, I kinda think you should have private representation, in case you ever want to go against the label – and don't argue with me, I know you're loyal to a fault, but it was the label's fault that we got into this fucking mess. They should have vetted the guy who won an intimate shoot with you better and made sure he wasn't a creep, and they should have protected you better from his harassment."

"He's right," Peter agreed, looking at Jackson pleased. "I like this one."

Sighing, Stiles accepted the business card, toying with it. "So, why's your nephew here?"

"You said that your pack's not letting you leave the house," Chris said, and the McCall Pack collectively winced. "And I get that. Peter and I would be struggling with letting one of our betas out of sight too if something like this happened, especially if it happened in our pack house. The breach of privacy is what makes it worse and what makes the paranoia stronger, because if something like that could happen in the safety of your home, how can any other place be safe."

Stiles nodded, but he still frowned in confusion. "And what's Derek gonna do about that?"

"I'm gonna be your bodyguard. If you want that," Derek replied. "I've been working for my uncle's firm for a while now. We do provide personal security, on top of security systems."

"I don't want a stranger – no offense, Derek, I've only heard good things about you from Boyd and Erica, but I do not know you – to follow me around, it's already suffocating enough with my pack – also no offense to you pups, but it is."

"None taken," Derek offered a wry smile. "But having a trained bodyguard accompany you to places may make your pack feel safe enough to let you out of the house and ease their hovering. It may also make you feel safer. This isn't a life-long commitment though, you could literally just hire me until the guy is found and arrested."

"That sounds good," Scott nodded wildly in approval, tugging on Stiles' sleeve. "Because we have been working on a schedule on who will be able to go to your shoots with you and stuff, but, like, we're not really trained in self-defense or anything, aside from Kira, and sure, me, Jackson, Liam and Hayden could take Theo in a fight, but it'd still come to a fight then."

Stiles heaved a deep sigh and sank lower in his chair. This just felt like Theo taking away his freedom though. Being assigned a babysitter like that. Helplessness spread in his chest, making it feel tight. Breathing seemed harder and without thinking on it, he reached a hand up to rest around his own throat, like he was trying to remove a phantom grip from it.

"I want my life back," Stiles whispered sullenly.

"And everyone in this room wants to help you get there, darling," Peter promised honestly.

A beat of silence, then Stiles nodded. "Okay, fine."

The relief from everyone else could be felt and Stiles hated that he'd worried them so much. He let his mind wander as Lydia started making appointments with both Chris and Peter respectively and only really tuned in again when the Hales left. He awkwardly shook hands with Chris, Peter and Derek, before getting pulled into a bone-crushing hug by Erica.

"I'm not sorry I brought them in," Erica whispered. "But I am sorry I did it without your permission. I just care about you a lot, Stiles, okay? And I want you to be safe."

"Okay," Stiles muttered, face buried in her curls. "Thanks, Catwoman."

"Anytime, Batman," Erica grinned as they parted.

/break\

Over the following month, Stiles somehow became friends with Derek. But then that shouldn't be as much of a surprise. Spending nearly all day with someone and relying on that someone to protect his life were things that bonded two people.

They had found a new house four days after that first official meeting of hiring Argent Security and Chris had genuinely tagged along to the house hunting himself, in person, to give his most expert opinion on all places ('that fence is a joke for a property this size', 'this is too open', 'this security system makes me sad'), before the pack and Chris agreed on the perfect place that fit all their needs and had a secure enough location and everything for Chris to work his magic. By the end of that week, they were fully moved into their new home. Money was great to get things moving quicker. Painting, new furniture, the moving company, if he added enough extra cash, everything was faster. Certainly his second favorite perk of being rich, right after being able to spoil his friends rotten.

The new house was a little smaller than the old. Something about too much open, unused space unsettled Stiles now and Chris had noted that it would be safer too. Empty rooms were great hiding places for stalkers. It was still huge, with rooms to spare for guests. A heated pool in the basement, an outdoor pool in the back, a tennis court for Kira and Lydia, the kitchen of Stiles' dreams, a library of course, offices for everyone who also liked to work from home. It was perfect.

The move had been a great distraction. Going furniture shopping, because he was not keeping the bed he had been assaulted in and if they were moving they could also get some new stuff that they may have wanted to change for a while but were too lazy to do proper renovations. Putting everything together, putting all their belongings away, kept him occupied for another week.

And then he had nothing to distract him anymore. At that point, his friendship with Derek started developing. The quiet man encouraged him to go out again, do the things he enjoyed. Movies, dinner, shopping. All with Derek as a looming, glaring presence behind him. His resting grump face did make him an intimidating bodyguard for sure.

It was another week later that they really got closer, when Stiles had a panic attack after someone unexpectedly touched him too close to his neck. He'd sat curled into a ball of frustration, angry at himself, when Derek sat down with him. Derek told him about the woman who groomed him when he was fifteen, seduced him when he was sixteen and then killed his family.

Stiles latched onto the guy for a solid twenty minutes, just hugging him and not letting go, because holy shit that was horrifying. But it did make it infinitely easier to trust Derek, somehow. Derek had told him that he understood, even if their situations had been incredibly different, he knew what it felt like to be used, to have his autonomy taken from him.

With that one conversation, Stiles decided that Derek was now one of his. And, as Scotty and their pack could attest to, that was not a thing Derek would ever be able to escape from. That declaration had gotten him his first genuine smile from Derek.

Now, another week later, Stiles was finally allowed back to work again. He'd had to wait until his stupid injuries were healed up and his stupid bruises were truly fully faded and his overbearing pack thought he was ready to go back. Which, admittedly, maybe they had a point. Considering the neck touching panic attack a week prior, he did not think he would have been ready to go back to work at that point, considering most shoots for Neckz 'n Throats did involve neck and throat touching.

Thankfully enough, his first shoot back had been booked with one of his absolute favorites, who knew him, how to touch and handle him, and with whom Stiles actually felt safe. Lydia was a genius when it came to predicting his needs like that and she was getting a new pair of shoes for it.

After the shoot, Stiles felt happy, warm and more like himself than he had in the past month. So he decided to go and get dinner with Derek and he picked Boyd and Erica's restaurant, the Silver Moon. As soon as the two walked in, Stiles spotted the majority of the Hale Pack sitting together at a table. Chris and Peter were sitting opposite each other, next to them their daughters and next to Malia was the cousin. Derek's sister, Stiles blanked on her name but recognized the Hale ScowlTM.

"Hey, guys," Stiles grinned and greeted them with a small wave.

"Stiles," Chris offered a pleased smile and got up to shake his hand.

So formal. So adorable. Peter followed right away, though he let his touch linger. Wolves, Stiles rolled his eyes fondly but let it slide. Allison, Malia and Derek's sister all waved at him or nodded in greeting. Stiles' eyes landed on the empty seat next to Allison and then wandered to Derek.

"You can join your family for dinner, if you want, Der," Stiles offered. "I'll be fine on my own and you can still get involved if something happens, or whatever."

He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the tables on the other side. There was a weird, tight feeling in his chest. No, it wasn't weird, it was quite familiar, he just wasn't used to it anymore because he surrounded himself with his pack every chance he had. Loneliness.

All of a sudden, seeing that happily married couple with their kids and niblings, that happy family, Stiles remembered lonely dinners at home while his dad was out on shift, sitting alone at a table that used to be filled with his mother's laughter and his dad's warmth.

"Nonsense, you can eat with us too," Peter frowned at him and immediately went to grab an extra chair from an empty table. "You're not eating on your own, darling."

He put the chair at the head of the table, right between himself and his husband. Stiles stared at it and opened his mouth to argue, just to have Derek grab him by the arms and push him toward it.

"Sit down, Stiles," Derek requested softly.

It felt weird, intruding on someone else's family dinner. He hadn't seen Allison, Malia and Derek's sister (gotta subtly ask for her name somehow) since the wedding. He hadn't seen Chris had personally installed their new security system, that had been over two weeks ago and even then, it was a different dynamic, having the man work for him. Peter, he had met up with four times over the past weeks to get updated on the restraining order and the hunt for Theo, which Stiles did appreciate that Peter kept pushing and also kept him in the loop on it.

"How have you settled into the new place?" Chris asked after a moment.

"Really good," Stiles grinned, kicking his feet a little under the table. "The library in our old mansion was getting a little too small for my books, I've had to put some of them into another room and I really hated that, having to separate them. But now the space is big enough for all of them with room to spare. Not enough room to spare, according to Scott who claims I'll have it filled up by the end of the year. He may not be wrong with that."

"I saw the library room. It was huge," Chris frowned. "Why do you have so many books?"

"Surprise because models don't classically read?" Stiles asked with his eyebrows raised.

He cracked and started laughing when Chris sputtered out an apology. "Relax, I'm teasing. I've always loved research and especially old books. Back when I was in high school, when Scott first got turned, I did all our research – someone had to figure out how being a werewolf worked, because the feral Alpha who'd bit him had fled town right away."

Stiles picked up the menu to have something to do with his hands, scanning it as he continued. "It wasn't exactly roses and rainbows. We faced a lot of dangerous threats over the years, back home. Research saved our lives more than once. And more than once, we got dangerously close to losing someone we love because I couldn't get all the knowledge we needed."

Stiles pursed his lips. "Maybe I'm overcompensating for the lack of knowledge when we were kids in life and death situations, but now that I have more money than I could ever possibly spend, I buy every rare book I can get my hands on. I have the biggest collection of bestiaries in North America, among many, many other books. Fairy tales, folklore, mythology, history."

"Mh," Chris regarded him with something curious. "That only makes it more impressive that you turned your life around, then. And got your pack to a financially secure, safe place."

"Mhmh," Stiles hummed. "If anyone hurts my pack, I'll put a bullet between their eyes myself."

"So, why did you need to hire me," Derek asked amused.

Raising his eyes, Stiles looked at his bodyguard. "Because I'm better at protecting others than myself. It's the number one cause of Scott's stress-levels."

"Understandable," Peter muttered beneath his breath.

"Alphas are always so fussy," Stiles rolled his eyes playfully, grinning at Peter.

"So you're… doing better?" Allison asked carefully, like she wasn't sure if she was allowed to ask. "I just, we all heard about what happened to you and…"

"I'm doing better. I guess," Stiles shrugged with a frown. "Been going to therapy about the assault, got a new, safe house and a bodyguard. I'd do much better if Theo was actually behind bars and I wouldn't have to look over my shoulder all the time."

"Working on it," Peter stated seriously.

Thankfully, they were interrupted before the conversation could veer any more into Theo. Because Stiles would like to eat, hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, but if he had to think about this any more, he was absolutely going to lose his appetite regardless.

"Welcome to the Silver Moon, I'll be your waiter today. What can I get you?"

"Hi, Isaac," Allison grinned amused. "You know you don't have to do that with us."

The curly-haired blonde waiter shrugged with a playful grin. "Part of the gig. So?"

Everyone placed their orders and Isaac left again. Stiles leaned back in his chair, tilting his head against the backrest. It elicited a growl from Peter that startled him some.

"Where did that bruise come from?" Chris asked tensely. "Did something-"

"Work," Stiles interrupted him amused, before a more genuine smile spread over his lips. "I had my first shoot since the incident! This is a very, very consensual and well-paid bruise."

He chuckled and reached up to trace the hickey on his throat, well-aware of the many others littering his torso. Derek's sister grunted softly, frowning at him.

"And you're really comfortable with that? Having strangers do that?"

"Cora," Derek growled sternly, glaring at his sister before turning to Stiles. "I'm sorry."

"No need," Stiles shrugged. "Not the first time I got asked that. And yeah, I am. I've always been physically affectionate and liked making out, so that aspect of the job never bothered me. Besides, it's all very… controlled? You talk to the photographer and your partner first, set the scene, the limitations, plan what will happen exactly. If something is brought up that you are uncomfortable with, you can veto it. If someone on set pushes your limits, we got security and an intimacy coordinator. I don't do anything I'm not fine with and I always liked hickeys and bruises, they're kind of thrilling to me. But I also get why that would make others uncomfortable. That's why everyone has to find what works for them. What do you do for a living?"

"I go to college," Cora replied. "I… don't really know what I want to do yet though."

"Mh," Stiles grinned at her. "That's fine. You're gonna figure it out. And if you don't figure it out right away, try something different. Life's not always all that linear."

She tilted her head at him but nodded. Isaac returned with their drinks. It was when he picked up his glass that he realized he'd still had his hand on the hickey. Mh. He really had missed getting bruised up in a consensual way. Biting his lips, he turned to look at Derek.

"You can take tomorrow off, if you'd like," Stiles offered once he made his decision.

"Why," Derek frowned. "Scott is visiting his mentor so he's not around. I would prefer to stick to your side while your Alpha isn't in town, even when you do things with other pack members."

"Deuc asked me during the shoot if I'm currently 'available' and if I'd like to spend the day with him," a cheeky grin spread over his lips and he licked them. "If everything goes according to how I want it, I'll be spending all day in bed with an Alpha and I think that's a pretty safe place to be and absolutely not a place you should be with me."

Derek wasn't the only one to make a startled noise at that, causing Stiles to laugh, especially Chris' choked noises as he swallowed his drink wrong. He'd never minced his words and never seen the need to feel awkward about these things.

"Ah," Derek cleared his throat, cheeks adorably red. "I didn't know you were seeing anyone…"

"Oh, we're not seeing each other, we're just fuck buddies," Stiles shrugged and took a sip from his drink. "I don't really do boyfriends. Or, well, they don't really do me."

This time, it was Peter who coughed up a storm, holding the glass in his hand a little too tight. Were they really this prude? Stiles wouldn't have thought so, considering how they'd met.

"What does that even mean," Malia asked with a frown. "Boyfriends don't do you?"

"In my experience, there are four types of people in the world," Stiles lifted his hand to count off on his fingers. "The people who think they're entitled to my body because of my job, the people who want my fame and money, the people who may want more but then are turned off by my personality. And my pack. Aka the only people can put up with me for extended periods of time."

"That's…" Allison trailed off with a very sad look on her face.

Stiles shrugged and propped his face up on his hand. "Most people don't see celebrities as people. There's this idealized fantasy in your head and when you actually meet the person and get to know them and they're not the way you fantasized, it's a let-down. Rambling nerds with ADHD and PTSD tend to turn people off, maybe even more so because of my profession. Because they know me as still images that try to seduce them. And I'm… anything but still, or quiet."

"You're wrong," Derek glared at him, eyebrows drawn real deep. "It's not just your pack. Your pack are not the only people who can 'put up' with you, Stiles. I consider you a friend, and I hope you do the same. And I can get Erica and Boyd out of the kitchen right now to further prove my point."

That did give Stiles pause. He blinked repeatedly as a warm feeling filled his chest and then he offered Derek the most blinding smile he had. Derek was right. There were more people now.

"Huh. I guess you're right, Sourwolf. I don't think I've ever had friends outside my pack. That's nice," Stiles grinned. "But still, when it comes to romance, things are a little different. I've tried in the past and usually either I'm too much for people, or they're only interested in my body slash money slash fame, or they couldn't handle my job and had somehow expected me to quit once I'm in a steady relationship. I love my job and if you can't trust me to be faithful just because of some staged pictures I take, then fuck you."

"That's the spirit," Erica declared cheerfully. "Hi, Batman! Isaac said you're here!"

The next second, he had the blonde draped over him, scent-marking and hugging him. Yeah, Derek was right. There really were people outside his pack now who he cared about. He grinned as he scent-marked her back, earning a very pleased noise from the wolf.

"We should hang out more," Stiles declared impulsively. "You mostly live in my phone and that's a shame. I should get to see you more often, it's a treat for my eyes."

He winked, causing Erica to cackle. "Says the literal model."

"Girl, have you seen yourself," Stiles raised his eyebrows and dragged his eyes over her. "I can picture you in multiple shoots as we speak."

"That'd be fun," Erica grinned amused.

"Okay. Tell me when you're free."

The grin turned into a surprised expression as Erica blinked at him. "Wait. Are you serious?"

"Sure," Stiles shrugged, dragging amused eyes over her body. "I mean it, you're a total bombshell. If you're interested in actually doing a shoot, I can arrange that."

"You… can? And you would? Really?"

Shit, it was too adorable when people got surprised by him doing something for them. Made him feel all giddy and happy, because it showed that they didn't expect it. That he was more than just his connections and money to them. He'd been used too many times at this point and every time he had someone who really did spend time with him just to spend time with him, without wanting or expecting something from him in return, that meant the world to him.

Stiles raised his eyebrows in amusement. "Yeah, I can. Beyond the fact that everyone in the industry is ready to bend over backward to please me and be on my good side, I really do think that you got the face, and the body, for the job, so what's the harm in trying if you really are interested."

"Holy shit," Erica squealed and fully launched herself at him to hug him tightly. "I gotta tell Boyd!"

As soon as their hug ended, she rushed off to the kitchen again, leaving Stiles with an amused smile on his lips before he sat down. The smile dimmed a little when he saw the frown Chris and Peter aimed at him. Oh. Had he… Had he overstepped? They were Erica's Alphas, maybe they didn't want one of their pack-members to do something like this. He felt weirdly disappointed and sad at that thought, that they may judge his profession. There were enough people like that, he knew it from his own experience. People who looked at the porn and enjoyed it but still looked down on the models for doing the job. He hated the thought that Chris and Peter may be looking down on him.

"You didn't have to do that, Stiles," Chris asked in a soft, near careful voice. "You know that Erica didn't befriend you to get a job, right?"

"Huh," Stiles blinked surprised.

"She loves you a lot," Peter added, voice as gentle as his husband's. "You just told us about how most people want to gain something from you. Erica doesn't."

Oh. The sad feeling dispersed and was replaced by comfortable warmth again. A soft smile spread over his lips as he regarded them. They were trying to reassure him that he wasn't being used.

"That's not…" Stiles shook his head. "That's sweet of you to say, but I'm actually aware of that. She never asked me for anything, she didn't ask for the shoot either. I offered. I like doing nice things for the people I care about, if it's in my power to do it. Pulling some strings is nothing."

He watched the frowns on Chris and Peter's face to slowly fade as they nodded. It made him smile. They'd been worried about him. That was… nice. He bit his lips, watching Isaac carry over their food. It smelt divine. Boyd seriously was an amazing chef and this place should be booked out at all times. Looking around, he saw far too many empty tables for a Friday night. He knew his post during the wedding had gained them some traction, but that had been five or six months ago now. Celebrity craze were temporary. Well, Stiles couldn't let that stand. He got his phone out and took a moderately indecent picture of himself eating – he knew full-well what his lips looked like and the effect they had on horny people – and then posted it to his insta, tagging the restaurant again.

"Put your phone down," Chris ordered, very sternly.

It startled Stiles into nearly dropping it because holy shit that bossy voice was hot. When he looked up at the man, he must have looked like a deer in the headlights, even as he obeyed.

"In our pack, there are no phones allowed during dinner. If you eat with us, you follow our rules," Peter clarified, voice as serious as his husband's.

Stiles bit back the 'Yes, sir' that threatened to spill from his lips at the commanding voices. He would not mind following their rules in other settings either. Okay, yeah, he was definitely meeting Deucalion tomorrow, he needed to get this horniness out of his system. It would not do that he started lusting after his friends' Alphas. One of whom was his lawyer now.

"I was posting about the restaurant," Stiles said with a pout. "Can't really do that without the food."

"You really do like doing nice things for people, huh," Allison smiled a little at him. "I mean, you didn't have to come to our dads' wedding either, back then. Much less pay for their honeymoon. I still can't believe you actually did that."

"Neither can we," Chris stared blankly ahead before shaking himself out of it and smiling at Stiles. "It was truly beautiful, by the way. I don't think we thanked you for it in person yet. Thank you, Stiles, you really didn't have to do that."

"But I wanted to," Stiles shrugged. "It wasn't a big deal for me, financially, but it was a way to help you guys have a memorable honeymoon."

"Part of me really wants to know just how rich you are," Cora muttered beneath her breath.

"Very," Stiles grinned like a shark. "And I like spending my money on others. I have a bunch of charities I support, I love spending money on my pack. Letting them live their best lives and take away at least the financial burdens. The people who claim money can't buy happiness never went to college, because most of us are from single-parent households and would have ended up with a pile of debt looming over them, if I weren't rich enough to pay for everyone's education. Life's easier if you don't have debt hanging over your head like a Damocles sword."

"But you have?" Chris asked, eyes calculating.

Stiles poked at his potatoes and shrugged. "My mom died when I was eight. She was… very sick for a very long time. We were never broke or noticeably struggling, but dad took out a second mortgage on the house, did his best to keep the crippling debt from me as long as he could. We wouldn't have had the money for me to go to college though, we already had enough outstanding debt from her medical bills still, from the two mortgages on the house."

Stiles paused to take a bite of his steak. "That's how I got into the business to begin with. I mean, someone asked me if I wanted to make money by taking off my shirt in a soft porn magazine, that's a wild thing to just agree to when you're barely eighteen. The pay was good, even back then for a total newbie they paid high for human models, so I agreed. Thought it'd get me through college. And then I kinda fell in love with the job and… never went to college at all. My first couple paychecks went into paying off our debt. And then paying off Scott's mom's mortgage."

"I guess I get that," Allison tilted her head with a thoughtful look. "If I had ridiculously much money and could make my family's lives easier, I'd do it too."

"Exactly," Stiles motioned at her with his fork. "I have the money, and it does… it really does lessen the pressure so much. You don't really have the option to explore yourself much if you have to watch your money. Dropping out of college with a half-finished degree you no longer want and with no idea what to do next sounds like a fucking nightmare if you have culminated debt for that useless degree and if you don't know how to pay rent. Meanwhile, Liam's on his second attempt at a degree, because I could offer him the financial security to stop doing something he'd come to hate and may have forced himself to finish otherwise."

"You're incredible," Chris whispered with a soft, small smile.

Huh. Stiles blinked doe-eyed at him. That had come out of left field. He felt himself blush. Clearing his throat, he focused on dinner and not on the warm squishy feeling in his chest.

/break\

The next time Lydia forced the pack onto a shopping trip, Stiles invited Erica, Allison, Malia and Cora along too. While Erica was on board right away, the other three hedged a little. Stiles was not taking no for an answer, in the kindest way possible.

"Stiles," Scott hissed, sounding near distressed. "You never mentioned she's so beautiful."

"I told you Erica's pretty enough to model. No, wait, you actually met Erica before," Stiles frowned and turned to watch the girls. "Who are you talking about?"

"Allison," Scott's voice was so low, trying to not let the other wolves hear him.

Judging my Cora and Jackson's snickering, he had not succeeded. Allison was in a lively conversation with Lydia, the two had hit it off right away and had not been separable so far. A blessing for virtually everyone else involved, because they were now free to pick their clothes themselves instead of playing dress-up doll for Lydia.

"You should tell her, not me," Stiles suggested amused. "In my experience, most people like honest compliments. And considering the way you can not close your mouth, you are being very honest."

He snickered and elbowed Scott, who immediately blushed furiously. Derek, who'd tagged along as security, even with the entire pack present ('they are not trained to detect potential threats or to fight them, Stiles, stop arguing with me'), grunted and glared deeply at Scott.

"Stop playing the protective big brother, Der," Stiles laughed, patting Derek on the back. "Allison is old enough to determine herself if she is interested in the flustered mess that is my Alpha."

"Stiles," Scott whined with a glare.

"You are a flustered mess when it comes to pretty girls, McCall," Jackson supplied.

"It's very endearing," Kira offered with a kind smile.

"Kira's my new favorite," Scott glared. "All you other guys? I am returning you to the store. I demand a refund to get better betas."

"Sorry," Jackson smirked and laid an arm around Scott's shoulders.

"No refunds, no returns," Stiles finished, laying an arm around Scott from the other side.

"Ye—p. You chose them, you are now stuck with them," Kira agreed.

Laughing, both Stiles and Jackson gave Scott a shove into Allison's direction. The Alpha stumbling toward them interrupted Lydia and Allison, both girls turning toward him with a curious (and judgmental, in Lydia's case) look. Scott somehow got out half a sentence, but he indeed was very endearing in his fumbling. It got him a smile from Allison, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"So, do you know if Malia is interested in girls?" Kira asked a few moments later.

She seemed unable to tear her eyes away from Malia, who was trying on a too large flannel shirt that immediately got her Lydia's attention and scolding. Malia growled and pulled the shirt back from the fashionista. This could escalate into an actual war.

"Why don't you go there and find out for yourself and also prevent us from getting banned from the store?" Stiles suggested. "Deescalate whatever is happening over there."

Kira nodded sharply and quickly walked over to Lydia and Malia. As soon as she was closer did Malia stop and look up at her, tilting her head, eyes dragging down the kitsune's body.

"I'm bisexual," Malia said unprompted.

Were hearing, right. Stiles snickered as he watched Kira blush in embarrassment.

"Ah, yes, young love," Stiles sighed pleased and leaned against Derek. "Isn't it so sweet?"

"Not in my experience," Derek said dryly. "I have yet to find a relationship that doesn't end in at least attempted murder."

"You make me feel so much better about my own fucked up, non-existent love life, Sourwolf."

/break\

Erica was drop-dead gorgeous. She was already incredibly pretty as was, but after the make-up department and wardrobe had their go at her? It was cute seeing her stare at her own reflection in gleeful shock. Stiles grinned and wrapped an arm around her.

"Told you that you looked like a model, Catwoman," Stiles offered. "Ready?"

She gave an eager nod and aimed one last blinding smile at Derek, who returned it in kind. Still Stiles' constant shadow. He was grateful that he'd actually befriended Derek. This would be hell with a random stranger. As was, he could most of the time pretend that he was just hanging out with Derek and not that Derek was being paid to protect Stiles from his murderous stalker. Fun times.

Stiles had gotten the shoot scheduled. He was used to getting what he wanted, but once he showed them a selfie he'd taken with Erica, they were more inclined to give her a shot. They had to work with the schedule though of course, so it hadn't happened immediately. But they had an opening about a month after he'd first told Erica he would try – and here they were.

Both of them were wearing leather, her a black mini-skirt and a black corset, Stiles black leather-pants with the sides open and held together by strings, as well as an open black shirt. Gold jewelry adorned them both, tight chokers around their throats to draw attention.

For the next three hours, Stiles got to give himself to the camera. There was something so blissful about the shoots. He knew exactly what was expected of him, he just had to follow the photographer's instructions. It was relaxing, to him.

And Erica took to it well too. There was some fumbling at first, a little awkwardness about putting her hands on him, but he was more than happy to guide her and they'd booked the shoot with one of their most patient photographers too, to make her feel more at ease.

It was all pretty standard, no theme, nothing too daring. They touched, hands on hips or arms, lips brushing against necks and shoulders. At one point, she was in his lap, at another, he was in her lap. They very quickly got more comfortable with each other's bodies and with being in each other's space. Not many mated wolves could do that; most of their werewolf models were single.

"Ho—oly shit," Erica gasped as they both collapsed back onto the couch on set. "That was… amazing? Intense but so much fun, actually."

"Yeah?" Stiles grinned pleased. "Wanna take a selfie about it?"

She gave him a thumbs up and the next moment, he took a picture of the two of them squished together, grinning into the camera, and captioned it Me and the next big star in the business. It earned him a squeak and a slap to the chest from Erica.

"Thanks, Batman," Erica whispered softly, nuzzling into him. "Even if this doesn't take off, it was a really cool experience."

/break\

It had been months now since the incident. Since anyone had seen or heard from Theo. Even the threats had stopped, most likely because he didn't want to risk those leading back to him. Their new home was now fully just home and no longer 'the new place'. Allison had asked Scott out a month ago, at which point Kira and Malia had already been on five dates. Erica had signed a contract with Neckz 'n Throats two weeks after her shoot and was now on her way to building her own career.

Between Erica and Stiles working together, Derek being Stiles' bodyguard and two members of each pack dating two from the other, their packs started spending more and more time together.

Peter and Chris had invited the entire McCall Pack to a barbecue last week and this week, they were repaying the kindness by inviting the Hale Pack over to pizza at the pool. It was one of the hottest days so far and those always found their pack sprawled out around the pool, so Stiles figured that the pack that didn't own their own pool may enjoy it too.

"Just gonna put it out there," Stiles said casually, sprawled out on the desk-chair. "Open invitation to come visit our pool whenever you like."

"That was a mistake," Isaac declared. "Because I may never leave."

Sitting up, Stiles looked at the blonde. Isaac, Boyd and Erica were playing water-ball in the pool against Scott, Liam and Jackson. Lydia was sitting at the bar with Allison, Mason and Peter. Hayden and Cora were chatting on the other side of the pool. The lack of Kira and Malia told him that he did not want to know what the two of them were doing that was more fun than the pool. Derek seemed relaxed as he read on his own desk chair. And Chris was…

"Please put on more sunscreen," Chris looked so concerned as he stood in front of Stiles. "You are too pale to be exposed to the sun like that. You haven't put on sunscreen once since we got here."

Stiles rolled his eyes amused, but he did reach for his bottle. "Only because sunburns actually photograph like shit. And only if you do my back."

"Oh, I'm sure that'll be a hardship for him," Peter commented loudly. "If you can't do it, I am more than happy to step in and take this burden from you, honey."

"Drink your cocktail, Peter," Chris glared at his husband before sitting down behind Stiles.

Stiles laughed softly at the husbands' banter. The next moment, he heard the click of the sunscreen bottle. His eyelids fluttered shut at the feeling of calloused, large hands on his body, gentle but firm as they spread out and massaged the lotion in. And Chris really did massage it in, not the way Scotty would just smear it over him and be done with it. No, there was pressure, circles rubbed with thick thumbs, moving down his spine. He couldn't help but arch his body according to the touch.

"You're too tense," Chris commented, sounding like he was frowning.

"Gee, I can't imagine why that may be, certainly doesn't have anything to do with the stalker who's tried to kill me and is still at large," Stiles said sarcastically.

He immediately regretted his words when the hands on his body stilled and the splashing in the water ceased. Everyone was looking at him. Heaving a sigh, he slowly rubbed his face.

"I'm sorry," Stiles muttered frustrated. "I didn't mean to bring down the mood."

"You don't have to apologize, darling," Peter's voice was gentle as he sat down on the desk-chair next to him, looking at Stiles with concerned eyes. "It's been nearly three months and you have a right to be frustrated about the lack of development."

"I'm not frustrated, I'm terrified," Stiles corrected with a glare. "Scott and I went to the grocery store yesterday and I saw a guy who kinda looked like Theo and I freaked out so hard until we actually had the poor guy pinned to a wall with a growling Alpha in his face."

Scott cleared his throat, clearly still embarrassed about that. He wasn't a violent person, but he took his pack's safety seriously and when Stiles had said he thought he saw Theo, the Alpha had reacted on pure instinct. The hands on Stiles' back started moving again, soothing him.

"If there's anything we can do to help you feel more safe, tell us," Chris requested.

"Honestly, this is helping pretty good right now," Stiles sighed contently, tilting his head back. "I feel like I'm turning into mush, I didn't even know my muscles could feel that loose."

Chris chuckled, but he continued the massage. Stiles allowed himself to relax into it, moaning softly when Chris eased a particularly tight muscle, enjoying the warm, large hands on his body.

"Maybe you just need to get laid, Stilinski," Jackson offered amused.

Stiles sighed in frustration. "I wish. But Deuc's not gonna be in the states again for a while and I'd love to see you try to score while Derek looms behind you and glares."

"Can we please stop talking about Stiles having sex?" Liam requested. "Like, forever?"

"Yeah. That's like thinking about your parents having sex. It's just wrong," Hayden agreed.

Stiles chuckled and then gave a deep sigh when Chris worked out another knot. "Peter, your husband's hands are magic and you are a very lucky man, I hope you know that."

"I do," Peter chuckled, his voice dropping. "You have no idea just how magical those hands are."

'Stop that!" Cora screeched. "Absolutely stop talking about what you and uncle Chris may or may not be doing in the bedroom, Liam and Hayden are right, these are things I do not need to hear."

It made Stiles cackle a little, before Chris' hands distracted him again. This was nice. He could very easily get used to this. Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander. Imagined relaxing massages before bed, getting tucked in between Peter and Chris, a kiss on each cheek… He quickly opened his eyes again, a mortified look on his face. Being sexually attracted to them was one thing, but he could absolutely not develop romantic feelings for the very happily married couple. Fuck.

/break\

Stiles had been right with what he'd told them in the restaurant about celebrities. They were a fictional concept in people's minds and meeting the real person could clash with that. Chris could see how Stiles wouldn't match with most people's expectations. The photo shoots gave this impression of submissive, pliant prey. Stiles was loud, stubborn, didn't back down or give an inch if he didn't want to. He could talk for hours without taking a breath if it was about his current hyperfixation, he fidgeted and twitched and never sat still. He was charming and beautiful and adorable and Chris wanted to listen to him for hours.

Stiles was nothing like the idea either Chris or Peter had in their heads. He was so much better, so much more. He was everything they could possibly want. Stiles was perfect for them.

"You doing okay there, doll?" Chris asked softly, cupping Stiles' cheek.

The boy was sprawled out on the couch in the Hale House, one arm hanging over the edge of the couch, one leg thrown up over the backrest of the couch, spreading his legs in a tempting manner, his shirt riled up to reveal a hip-bone and a sliver of pale skin. Somehow, the model managed to make even casual, lazy lounging look like sin and temptation.

"Chri—is," Stiles blinked up at him with a grin. "You're home."

Chris' heart raced at the bright grin, at Stiles' happiness that he was home. Having Stiles greet him upon coming home certainly was something Chris could get used to. Would love to get used to. Though he wasn't entirely sure why he was being greeted by Stiles in his own home.

"I am," Chris smiled amused. "You're not. Why are you here, doll?"

Stiles yawned and stretched, arching his body and revealing more belly. "I have been rotting on your couch for so long, I quite frankly forgot why I even came here."

"Ha, ha, ha, you are so funny, Stilinski," Erica called from upstairs. "We're nearly ready."

Chris raised an eyebrow and Stiles grinned at him. "We're going to a club. But Erica and Allison are taking forever to get changed. It's ridiculous."

"Not everyone can be a model and look perfect falling out of bed," Allison called.

"Derek is going to come with you, right?" Chris asked, concerned.

Stiles deflated some, but he nodded. "Yes, I am forcing Derek to go into a club. I feel bad about it. That is not the natural habitat of Sourwolves."

Chris nudged Stiles a little and sat down next to the boy, who instead of sitting up just rested his head on Chris' thigh. It made Chris' heart beat a little faster. After a moment, he started carding his fingers through the very soft hair, causing Stiles to nuzzle into him. Chris felt warmth fill him.

"We'll find him, sweetheart," Chris whispered.

"I can't hear that anymore," Stiles glared viciously against the backrest of the couch. "Everyone keeps telling me that and it feels more and more empty every time… I…"

"I understand that," Chris assured him, still playing with his hair. "But I still mean it."

"Oka—ay, we are ready to go!" Erica yelped as the girls came rushing downstairs.

They were followed by Malia, Boyd, Isaac and Cora at a more leisure pace. Apparently, the others had been waiting for them just as much. With a sigh did Stiles sit up, looking more tired than motivated to go out to dance, really. Wary, worn out by everything.

"You sure you want to go out?" Chris asked, wrapping an arm around Stiles' shoulders. "I was considering watching that new scifi movie you recommended?"

Stiles gave a soft groan and let himself be pulled back against Chris. "I am kinda tired, but we've planned this night for like two weeks, I wouldn't…"

"We'll be fine without you, Stiles," Allison smiled warmly. "Take the night off. Rest."

"Yeah, we're meeting the rest of your pack at the club, it's okay," Erica assured him.

"Please stay in," Derek requested. "I can't do another night of clubbing, Stiles."

That was the straw to break the camel's back. Stiles laughed softly and then laid down on the couch again, curling together so he was facing the TV, his head resting on Chris' thigh.

"Okay," Stiles hummed. "Staying in sounds nice, actually. Have fun, guys."

The other young members of the pack ran off, leaving Chris and Stiles alone in the living room. Derek sighed relieved and headed upstairs. Taking a look at Stiles, Chris frowned. The boy was wearing skin-tight leather pants that could not possibly be comfortable, even if they made Stiles' legs and ass look fucking fantastic, the shirt was tight too.

"You wanna borrow some comfortable clothes?" Chris offered gently. "Sweat pants and a shirt?"

Stiles hummed and sat up a little. "Okay, fi—ine…"

Chuckling, Chris got up and led Stiles upstairs to their bedroom. The boy's eyes brightened as he looked around, never having been in here before. Chris froze when Stiles' eyes fell on the large, framed print from Stiles' Little Red Riding Hood shoot. The very one that had brought Chris and Peter together. Hanging right opposite their bed. Stiles snickered softly.

"Relax, Chris, I know you guys jerk off to me," Stiles' eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Please don't put it like that," Chris requested mortified, embarrassed.

Laughing, Stiles shook his head and approached the picture. He looked at it curiously. Stiles was wearing old-fashioned but tight leather pants, a red shirt unbuttoned half-way and a red hood half in his face, drawing focus to his half-lid doe eyes, mouth open a little. He was lounging on a tree-stump, a basket with wine and cake next to him, one finger with frosting half in his open mouth.

"It's a good picture," Stiles shrugged. "Not my best, but a good one. Why does it speak to you so much? I mean, you personally and specifically. Most of my fans are werewolves. You're not."

Chris opened the closet and got a pair of Peter's sweat-pants and one of his hoodies that Peter liked to steal for comfort too, handing them both to Stiles. "I used to be a hunter. There's something very… prey-like to you, with the big Bambi eyes. The Little Red shoot speaks to me in particular as a hunter, even though yes, you do have many much more… tempting… shoots."

When he turned around, he froze. Stiles was shirtless and pushing down his pants, leaving him in nothing but tight, black briefs. Chris swallowed hard, eyes filled with hunger as they dragged down Stiles' body like that. He'd never seen him this bare, not even in pictures, but live…?

"Honey, Derek said that Stiles is here? Where are…" Peter called and then trailed off. "Oh, my."

Peter's eyes flashed Alpha red as he looked Stiles up and down, expression a mirror of Chris' own. Stiles tilted his head into their direction, amusement sparkling in his own eyes. Chris wasn't sure if that made it better or worse, the fact that Stiles wasn't judging them, seemed amused by them.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Stiles quipped with a chuckle.

"Don't give me any ideas, darling," Peter purred. "I'd never stop taking pictures of you."

"I'm not always nearly undressed," Stiles raised his eyebrows.

"Doll, you're gorgeous whatever you're wearing, or not wearing," Chris huffed. "You're beautiful when you're all sleepy wearing your pajamas in the morning, or in your oversized sweaters when you're cold, in a suit or in that ratty worn-out Beacon Hills sheriff department shirt."

The teasing left Stiles' eyes as he blinked at them. Slowly, he grabbed the sweat-pants and put them on before sitting down on their bed. He stared at them with a thoughtful gaze.

"I don't know what to do with that," Stiles admitted reluctantly. "I get people getting horny over me but that doesn't sound very horny. That sounds… more… fond… People who get horny over me don't get fond of me, that's pack-stuff, so these are confusing mixed signals."

Something sad and heavy settled in Chris' stomach at that and he heaved a sigh. "No, baby, those are not mixed signals. We want you. Not just for your body. The little moments, the quiet moments, like on the couch just now, that's why I asked you to stay in and watch a movie with me. When you join us for family dinner at the Silver Moon, just so Derek can join family dinner even while he's on the clock as your bodyguard. We want the sweet and gentle moments with you too."

Peter and Chris had talked about this, about the way their feelings had grown and that they no longer wanted Stiles as their celebrity pass. They wanted Stiles as their equal partner, sexually and romantically. But they knew Stiles was in a bad place still, would be until Theo was arrested. They could wait, they were so sure in their feelings that they knew they could wait. Looking at Stiles right now, so lost by the concept of them wanting more than his body, waiting seemed impossible.

"But…" Stiles furrowed his brows. "I rant a lot? And zone out sometimes? A lot. And…"

"We know," Chris raised his eyebrows, a fond smile on his lips. "And we love all of that about you. You're quite adorable, Stiles. We love everything about you that makes you you."

Stiles' breath hitched and his eyes widened. "But… But…"

"Stop trying to talk us out of this, darling," Peter quirked his lips bemused.

"You're married," Stiles continued, ignoring Peter. "I am half your age and you are happily married, you have children, a whole family. That's…"

"Are you listing reasons why you don't want this now?" Peter frowned, leaning into Chris. "We do understand that, sweetheart. You don't have much reason to want it. You could have truly anyone, your own age, status, less complicated and messy."

"No, those were reasons why you shouldn't want it," Stiles frowned right back at Peter. "You guys have a normal, stable life and being with me is going to fuck that up."

"It won't," Chris joined in on the frowning, reaching out for Stiles' hand to take.

"That's naive of you, Christopher," Stiles heaved a sigh. "Being with me puts you into the focus of the press. Gossip sites and my fans… and my haters… are going to look at you under a microscope. Your past, your present, your family, everything will be out in the open. People will judge you for this, insult you for this, most likely also threaten you – the people who feel entitled to my body won't like that someone else has me and it'll make you a target too. None of what I have to offer you is worth putting up with any of that, you need to understand that."

"We're not naive, Mieczysław," Peter sounded stern yet gentle. "We did consider what a relationship with a celebrity of your status may entail. And you are worth it."

Stiles wiggled his nose in that cute little way he always did when they used his first name. Something they had only learned because Peter worked with Stiles and legal documents did feature his actual birth name. It was well-hidden, not just his first name but his last name too, to protect his dad and allow Beacon Hills peace and quiet and not to have vultures coming into his home town to harass the people from his past and childhood. To the world, he was just Stiles.

"It's gonna be messy," Stiles argued, sounding weaker now. "You'll regret it and you'll hate me for ruining your lives and then everything is gonna be even more messy, because I care about you too much to want to lose you fully."

"How about," Chris cupped Stiles' cheek gently. "You don't plan our break-up before we even got together, mh? Please, give us a chance, baby doll."

Stiles made a soft noise at the petname and leaned in, near naturally so. Long lashes fluttered shut and then Chris' lips touched Stiles' in a gentle kiss. He smiled against the model's lips. When their kiss broke, Peter practically shoved Chris out of the way to get a kiss of his own.

"Oh, I see how it is," Chris grunted amused. "Got a new, shiny boy, out with the old."

"Shut up, Christopher," Peter growled between pressing kisses against Stiles' lips. "I have been dreaming of kissing our boy for years now, I will not wait any longer."

Stiles blinked dazed, leaning against Peter's chest. "You two are so weird. I love you."

Chris' heart skipped a beat and it was his turn to shove Peter, so he could get more kisses. When he let go of their boy again, Stiles' lips were red and shiny and swollen from all the kisses both of them had stolen from him. Stiles blinked at them in awe before licking his lips.

"Uhm," Stiles cleared his throat. "So… are we still watching the movie, or…?"

"We're still watching the movie, doll, put on the sweater before you catch a cold."

They weren't going to rush into sex, they really wanted Stiles to understand that they wanted more from him than just his body, money or fame. With a brief nod, Stiles put on the shirt Chris had given him earlier. Together, Chris and Stiles walked out of the bedroom, giving Peter the room to get changed since he only just got home from work. Ten minutes later, the three of them curled together on the couch, both Peter and Chris stealing kisses from Stiles throughout the movie.

/break\

"I'm tired of waiting for the cops to catch Theo," Stiles announced during packs dinner.

The McCall Pack had a pack dinner night, just like the Hale Pack. This was the second time that the packs had merged their nights into one dinner, hosted in the large mansion. Scott and Allison, Malia and Kira, and now Chris, Peter and Stiles, their packs were connected at too many points by now that they spent more and more time together, all of them. Peter could see where this was headed, their packs were close to merging. He thought it could work, two Alphas were standard for a pack, though usually they were the Alpha Mates. Since both of Peter's chosen were human, and so was Scott's, neither pack had a second Alpha through the Alpha Mate. Perhaps Peter and Scott could co-lead a merged pack. He had become a bit of a mentor-figure to Scott, the boy had been so young and helpless when he got turned, when he became an Alpha, and had winged it with courage and determination, but without guidance and understanding.

"We know, Stiles," Scott looked at his best friend with a frown. "So are we."

"I have a plan," Stiles bit his lips, holding his best friend's gaze for a moment before letting it wander. "It may be risky and it will require all of your help. But I think it will work."

"What is it, baby?" Chris reached out to take Stiles' hand.

Stiles was sitting at the head of the table, Chris and Peter on either side of him. Both packs sat mixed among each other, Erica between Jackson and Boyd, Lydia between Jackson and Allison. There weren't just the romantic matches between their packs, they had also forged strong friendships among each other, which pleased Peter a lot. Scott sat opposite Stiles, at the other head of the table, a frown on his face. He knew Stiles the longest, the best.

"Derek, do you wanna get married?" Stiles grinned at his bodyguard.

Silence stretched on between them, Derek glowering deeply at Stiles. "What."

"Theo's been quiet, but Theo's also deeply obsessed with me," Stiles shrugged, poking at his food so he didn't have to look at anyone. "I read every single letter and threat he ever sent-"

"Stiles," Lydia sighed in frustration. "The whole point of me filtering your mail is so you won't have to read about the horrendous things people sent you."

"Well, I need to know the horrendous things he sent me so I can understand him better," Stiles looked up to narrow his eyes at her. "Local police is failing me and I… I have grown too comfortable accepting that. I would have never waited this long in Beacon Hills, fuck it, we would have gone after the motherfucker on day two together, hunted him as a pack. It's time to do what we always did when our pack was threatened. We took care of it ourselves."

"Liking that idea, unsure why marrying Derek would help," Kira spoke up confused.

"I've thought about this a few nights ago, in bed with Chris and Peter," Stiles blushed. "Before sleep, I mean. This is not something I thought about during sex."

"Please stop talking," Allison groaned, hiding her face.

"I was just thinking about how much Theo would hate that I'm in a relationship," Stiles continued, trying to ignore the part where he brought up their sex life in front of Allison and Malia. "But I don't want to put my actual, real relationship out there in danger like that. Or out there at all. I'm glad we have been able to keep our privacy for the past few weeks so far."

"Again, Derek," Kira nudged gently.

"Right. The gossip pages already think I'm fucking him anyway, since he's my bodyguard," Stiles shrugged. "So, my trained bodyguard could pose as my lover, let's blow this up big time, fake wedding to draw Theo out. He won't be able to resist that. A relationship may not, but a wedding? Me, becoming someone else's in such an official way?"

Peter's stomach felt like it got filled with lead. And it wasn't even his possessive wolf opposing the idea of a fake wedding to his nephew. No, this feeling came from the sense that Stiles may be right. This may work. Which meant it'd put Stiles in danger again, direct danger. But the determination in Stiles' eyes told him that this was non-negotiable. And the worst part was that Peter understood. Too much time had passed, Stiles felt helpless and caged and he was tired of it. They all were.

"Let's plan a wedding," Peter heaved a deep sigh, but it earned him a bright smile from Stiles.

/break\

Stiles felt weird, standing in his tux in the backroom of the church all alone. He looked good, the way he'd always imagined he would look on his wedding day. It's been two weeks since he proposed his plan and with both packs working together, and Stiles' money greasing the wheels, they organized a wedding in that short a time. They'd leaked pictures of Stiles and Derek pretend-making out the day after deciding on the plan and when the press confronted him about the leaked pictures, he publicly announced his secret engagement to Derek and the fact that they were getting married. The trap was laid, now Stiles was playing bait.

He was afraid. He hated that feeling, but he had hated his helplessness even more. Derek was in another room, getting ready for their wedding, with his family. He had requested alone time to get ready. All alone in this room, the church was open, there were back entrances that were unprotected. Everything was set for Theo to get in and get to him to be caught in the act. His heart was racing.

Knocking at the door made him nearly jump out of his skin. When he turned around, it was Erica, in her incredibly pretty (and incredibly expensive) bridesmaid (again, groomsmaid?) dress, smiling brightly at him. He blinked confused. That was not part of the plan, he was supposed to be alone.

"They got him," Erica announced, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Derek, Chris, Peter and Scott are kind of piling onto him so I was sent to tell you. He snuck in through the back."

Stiles stared at her wide-eyed. "They… got him? Really? But I-"

"None of us were ever going to let him close to you, Batman," Erica huffed and approached him to pull him into a tight, comforting hug. "C'mon. Your boyfriends, your Alpha and your bodyguard slash fiance have been ready to attack all day. The police are en route, he'll be arrested."

And just like that, months of fear fell off of him and he sagged into her waiting arms, sobbing out in relief. She wrapped her arms around him, patting his back and soothing him, cooing at him. Until he could hear the sirens of the police car and conversations outside. Slowly, his breathing evened out and by the time someone knocked on the door again, he was relatively calm again.

"Sugar?" Chris asked softly. "Are you… Are you alright? Can we come in?"

"Yes, please," Stiles croaked out.

Erica let him go, once Chris and Peter were inside, letting them take him from her. She slipped out of the room while Chris and Peter hugged him tightly from either side, kissing his cheeks.

"It's over, darling," Peter whispered, peppering his face with kisses. "The police took them away, I assured them that you, and your attorney, would come by the station later today to give a statement. But it's over. We finally got him, he'll be put away for what he did to you, love."

"Okay," Stiles mumbled against Chris' chest. "What… What comes next?"

"Whatever you want, baby," Chris kissed the top of his head. "You're free now."

Silence stretched on between them as Stiles just drank in his boyfriends' comfort.

/break\

Stiles grinned lazily and rolled over onto his side. The curtains were drawn, giving the beautiful view on the Eiffel tower, Peter standing on the balcony drinking his morning coffee. Chris was still in bed with Stiles, arms around his waist. His fingers were gently caressing Stiles' sides.

"Morning, gorgeous," Chris whispered, voice gruff from sleep.

"Why's our wolf not with us in bed?" Stiles complained, nuzzling into Chris. "I demand boyfriend cuddles, with all my boyfriends. You can stare at the Eiffel tower later."

Peter chuckled, but he obeyed his lover's command, climbing back into the bed so he could press against Stiles' back and wrap his arms around Stiles' waist. A kiss was pressed against his shoulder and Stiles arched into it, sighing contently.

"Happy second honeymoon," Stiles grinned, craning his neck to kiss Peter.

It had been meant as a present just for Chris and Peter, Stiles had planned it for a while. Giving Chris and Peter a second honeymoon as a present for their one year anniversary. And then he had somehow started dating them? But especially with the way they had taken Theo down during a wedding, Stiles had felt like going on a honeymoon.

After a long, exhausting day of giving his statement, after all was said and done and they celebrated at the McCall Pack house, he started thinking that maybe, he could give them the tickets and ask if the three of them could go together. Once everything was over. Which did take a while longer, because Stiles was only ready to leave after the trial, after Theo was truly put behind bars.

He'd been nervous, asking his boyfriends to go together, because it'd be their first trip anywhere as a throuple. Both Chris and Peter had been so happy when he asked them, dissolving all his anxiety.

"I'm glad we get to enjoy Paris with you, darling," Peter smiled and kissed Stiles.

Everything was good. Everything was fine. For the first time in… far too long, maybe ever… Stiles felt like everything was really actually fine. He had given an official statement, about the fake relationship with Derek, about the arrested stalker. Not everyone bought it and others were angry about it, because they had really shipped Derek and Stiles and thought the RPF they had been writing in their heads had finally come true. More threats, but Stiles ignored them, Lydia was in charge of sorting his mail, after all. It was nice to get to go places without Derek shadowing him everywhere. It was nice spending time with Derek as a friend, without paying him.

Rolling over a little, Stiles reached for his phone. Chris smacked his hand and moved the phone further away, causing Stiles to whine a little and pout up at his boyfriend. All he got was a grunt.

"No, baby. No phone for you, unless you want to contact the packs," Chris said sternly.

They had banned him from social media for this vacation, because this romantic Paris get-away was absolutely something that was going to out their relationship and Peter and Chris had agreed that they did not want Stiles to fret about it or feel guilty about it. Because yes, Stiles was still afraid that the press and the pressure that came with it was going to make Peter and Chris break up with him, even though both kept assuring him that this was not going to happen.

"You know that I feed on attention," Stiles whined and pouted, resting his cheek on Chris' chest. "You can't ban me from social media like that, I need the attention."

"Oh, sweetheart," Peter's voice was dark and foreboding, teeth scratching over Stiles' shoulder. "If it's attention you want, you can have all of our attention. Isn't that right, Christopher?"

Chris grunted his agreement, his hands wandering to pull Stiles close enough to kiss. "However much attention you need, baby. How does that sound?"

Stiles smiled a little, relishing in their touches and attention, relaxing between them. This was perfect, everything about it – about them – was perfect.

~*~ The End ~*~