Peter’s just there to snoop to be honest. Derek is keeping secrets from him, and Peter’s seen his nephew cut short his conversations with Stiles as soon as he knows that Peter is within hearing range. Peter could be in and out without Stiles ever being the wiser, but there’s something tempting about being in Stiles’ space with his permission, playing innocent and besotted as he sits on the edge of the bed. Guiding Stiles into revealing the truth.
Stiles stirs when the mattress dips under Peter’s weight and blinks sleepily up at him. His gaze is unfocused for a bit, but then he rubs at them, knuckling out the grit gathered at the corners.
"Hey," Stiles says, voice rough.
"Hey yourself," Peter murmurs. "I didn’t mean to wake you."
Stiles smiles fondly. “Y’were just gonna watch me sleep then? Creepy,” he yawns. “Whacha really here for?”
"No reason," Peter deflects softly. "Just wanted to see you. I haven’t had you to myself lately without Derek and the rest of the pack around."
Humming, Stiles nuzzles into the palm that Peter puts near his cheek. He mumbles, “S’nothin’ goin’ on with ‘em. Derek’s just—” He breathes deeply, eyes sliding shut. “He’s being weird. About us.”
Peter hides his sly smile at the word ‘us’. Stiles is so enamored that it bleeds through in his language easily. His sweet little lover would do anything so long as it meant that Peter still wanted him.
He kisses Stiles’ forehead. “Anything I need to worry about?”
Stiles wraps his arms loosely around Peter’s shoulders and cuddles closer, even though it means moving away from his pillows. “Not unless you break my heart I guess.”
Peter hugs Stiles to his chest and considers this as Stiles settles against him. “I’ll take that as a warning,” he says but gets no response. When he glances down, Stiles is already asleep on his shoulder.