Title: Zodiac
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Peter/Stiles
Rating: Explicit
Length: 2370
Content notes: underage, cross-generational romance
Author notes: creative license taken wrt Stiles and Peter's signs.
Summary: "You know, Taurus and Libra make a good match," Peter says with a sly smile.

Stiles looks away. "Yeah. I looked that up, too."


"When's your birthday?" Stiles asks. He has his head down and he's either scribbling or doodling.

"Planning another surprise party?" Peter asks. "The first one you threw for me ended in my untimely demise."

Stiles's head pops up and his eyes are comically large. He blinks, and the corner of his mouth turns down like he's about to apologize. He stops himself, though. Peter knew he would.

"Or you want to know how long you have to pick out the perfect present," Peter says with a smile. "It's okay, Stiles. You are gift enough."

"Ugh," Stiles says, rolling his eyes but flushing just a bit. He acts like he doesn't like the extra attention Peter always bestows, but Peter knows the truth. The boy revels in it. "No, Deaton's got me doing this astrology bullshit. I was just wondering what your sign was."

"Taurus," Peter says.

Stiles frowns and thumbs through a book.

"We're drawn to pretty things," Peter says. "And very sensual."

"Why are you so creepy? Like, all the time!" Stiles says, shaking his head. But his lips are twitching.

"It amuses me," Peter says.

"Ugh," Stiles says again, ducking his head but shaking with laughter.

---

"You're an Earth sign," Stiles says to Peter. It's three days later.

"Still studying my horoscope?" Peter asks.

"N-not just yours," Stiles says, but the two bright spots on his cheeks tell a different story.

Peter raises his eyebrows.

"I'm Air," Stiles says.

"Ah," Peter says. "That explains a lot."

Stiles grimaces. "I'm pretty much a poster boy for Libra-ness."

"You know, Taurus and Libra make a good match," Peter says with a sly smile.

Stiles looks away. "Yeah. I looked that up, too."

Now that is interesting.

---

A week later, Stiles is coming back, asking Peter more questions. Peter wonders if it took this long for him to get up the courage to come to him.

"How did you know about the Air thing?" Stiles asks. "When I told you, you said it explained a lot about me. And you knew about the match thing. So... you know about this stuff, right?"

Peter leans forward, nodding. "I do."

"How? Why?" Stiles asks.

"For the same reason you're learning," Peter says. "Astrology isn't really mystical, but it does have some interesting theories. The elements, for example. Those can be used in magic."

Stiles nods. "That makes sense."

Peter studies him for a moment, watches as the boy thinks. Peter always finds watching Stiles fascinating. He's long since given up on trying to reason it out.

"Will you help me with it?" Stiles asks suddenly.

"Yes," Peter says. He's surprised that the boy is asking for his help, but it's been a full year since Peter did anything truly awful. Maybe Stiles is beginning to trust him. Or maybe it's more.

"Wait," Stiles says, looking suspicious. "That was too easy. What do you want in return?"

Peter gives him a slow smile. "Just the pleasure of your company."

---

"So," Stiles says, biting his bottom lip. "The thing is, you're a Fixed and I'm a Cardinal sign."

Peter raises his eyebrows. They've been studying astrology for weeks now. Together. It's had its ups and downs, but mostly it's been good. "And what does that mean?"

"I hate when you do that," Stiles says with a scowl.

"What?" Peter asks mildly.

"Ask me questions when you already know the answers," Stiles says.

"It's the best way to teach," Peter says.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. The pedagogy of Peter Hale," Stiles says, rolling his eyes but smiling.

"Have I been a good teacher?" Peter asks.

Stiles makes a show of thinking, but then he smiles, his eyes bright and intelligent. "Yeah. You have."

"So tell me what our Qualities mean," Peter says.

"I'm... ambitious and clever," Stiles says. "You're determined and persistent."

Peter smiles. "And all of it, the Signs and Elements and Qualities: what do they mean for us, together?" He shouldn't push, he knows this, but he can always write it off as a joke. He needs to know, beyond the scents Stiles keeps throwing off.

Stiles looks at him with large honey brown eyes and says, "Well, apparently I'm supposed to make the first move. Libras are good at initiating while a Taurus is good at keeping the relationship going."

Peter's glad the boy doesn't have werewolf hearing or he'd realize Peter's heart is beating just as hard as his own. "Are you going to?" he can't help but ask.

Stiles steps forward and nods.

Peter smiles at him, encouraging but not pushing.

Stiles twines his arms around Peter's neck and leans in to kiss him.

Neither of them come up for air for a long time.

---

They both finely blend eroticism and affection to achieve total fulfillment together. Both are sentimental and appreciate aesthetics in a way that most others can’t begin to grasp. It usually kicks off with just kissing, long and sustained kissing — eventually leading to some tongue action, which itself becomes rather intense. They find something special about exchanging tongues, playing around, wiggling and squirming one’s tongues around each other. For these moments, everything is so wonderful; everything is as good as it could be. Time seems to stop. It feels so incredible, so blissfully at peace, so entranced and euphoric.

—Ask Oracle

Stiles snorts. "Seriously?" he mumbles as he reads from his laptop.

"What's that?" Peter asks, looking up from his novella. It's Turgenev's First Love, and he's tried to read it in the original Russian before but never quite got through it, despite his tenaciousness and the story's short length.

Stiles bites his lips like he's trying not to smile. Actually, he looks like he's trying not to crack up entirely. "Does time seem to stand still when we kiss?"

They've only kissed a few times, and they've stopped before it went too far. Stiles seems skittish, possibly still working out his own feelings, and Peter has respected that. It hasn't stopped him from playing grab-ass a few times, but other than that, he's been good. So good. He deserves a halo. Wings, maybe.

"I don't remember," Peter says, smirking a little. "Why don't we try again and see?" He moves to stand up from the sofa but Stiles stops him with an outstretched hand.

"Stay right there," Stiles says, moving closer, stopping in front of him. His heart is racing and the sound is like music.

Peter settles back and puts his book aside on the end table without looking away from Stiles's face. Stiles smiles and quickly straddles Peter's thighs.

"This is new," Peter says, absolutely delighted. "It's been awhile since I had a lapful of nubile young-"

Stiles cuts him off with a hard kiss. "Shut up, Peter," he says, grinning against his mouth.

Peter slides his hands up Stiles's thighs, squeezing and admiring the lithe muscle beneath his palms. Stiles sucks on his tongue lightly and Peter can't help but moan.

Stiles pulls back with a grin. "Is time stopping for you?"

"I think we need a longer sample for this experiment," Peter says, and he's appalled at how breathless he sounds.

Stiles looks smug. Peter decides to kiss the expression away, taking over, his hands sliding back to Stiles's ass to pull him closer. Stiles's hips are flush against Peter's now, and even if Peter couldn't smell the boy's arousal, he can definitely feel it now.

"God," Stiles moans, then bites out, "...And before you say anything, I'm not calling you a god."

"Not yet anyway," Peter says, scraping his teeth down Stiles's throat. Stiles whimpers and tilts his head back, making Peter's wolf extremely happy.

"Okay, you-" Stiles says, obviously frustrated as he rocks against Peter just a bit, like he can't help himself.

"You have no idea what you do to me, Stiles," Peter whispers against the boy's ear. Stiles shivers and clutches at Peter's shoulders.

Peter slides his hands up under Stiles's shirt so he can touch the smooth expanse of skin, then digs his blunt nails in when Stiles rocks against his cock.

"Too many clothes," Stiles mumbles, pawing at the buttons of Peter's shirt.

Peter growls and pulls Stiles's shirt over his head first, then practically rips his own shirt off. He doesn't, though, because silk is impossible to mend.

Stiles is staring at him, his eyes fixed on Peter's chest and belly. "Is it a werewolf thing? The perfect physique?"

Peter looks Stiles over for a long moment, long enough to make Stiles blush. "Definitely not." He scrapes his fingernails down Stiles's chest, intentionally catching a nipple. Stiles gasps and closes his eyes. The scent of want intensifies.

"What do you need, Stiles?" Peter asks him, low and tense from not doing as his instincts are telling him and just taking.

Stiles opens his eyes, and Peter knows that wild look — if the boy was a werewolf, his eyes would be glowing right now. "I want to suck you."

When Peter shivers, he knows he's too far gone on the boy to ever look back. He nods and Stiles slides off his lap, to his knees, and looks up at Peter with dark, hungry eyes.

Peter unzips his trousers and pulls them down, giving Stiles as much access as he could possibly want. Stiles's eyes go straight to Peter's hard cock, not looking away for a moment. He wraps his hand around the base and it's all Peter can do not to groan out his pleasure from just that.

But then Stiles strokes down to uncover the head from Peter's foreskin, and his tongue is pink and wet and so soft against the sensitive head, and Peter has to make noise, can't stop the moan that escapes his throat. Stiles is beautiful like this, on his knees, licking and tasting and wrapping his lips around Peter's cock like he wants to worship it.

It's easy to tell he's never done this before, the actions all seem unfamiliar and unpractised. But Stiles is curious and thorough, stroking slowly and sucking lightly before taking more of Peter's length into his mouth. Peter can't look away.

"You look so good with your lips around my cock," Peter says, and the words are meant to be filthy but they just come out of his mouth sounding startlingly earnest.

Stiles looks up at him, face flushed, eyes nearly black with want.

"You're so gorgeous. I wish you could see what I see," Peter says. Stiles moans and closes his eyes. Peter touches his face then, strokes over his cheek with more tenderness than he thought he was capable of. "No. Look at me."

Stiles obeys and his eyes are tear-bright, and Peter looks down, sees Stiles's cock straining in his jeans.

"Will you touch yourself for me?" Peter asks.

Stiles moans and his mouth comes off Peter's cock with a slick pop, and then he's attacking his zipper. "Geez, you just say- you talk and it makes me so hot," Stiles says. He gets his cock out and fists it once, then squeezes the base like he had been seconds away from coming.

Peter touches the back of Stiles's head and guides him back to his cock. Stiles's mouth is already open and ready as he mouths the length, saliva escaping his lips and making it even wetter.

"You like when I talk, Stiles?" Peter asks, still with his hand at the back of Stiles's head, pulling him closer. "You want me to tell you filthy little secrets?"

Stiles whimpers and takes more of Peter into his mouth, lets Peter guide him down.

"That's it, you can take it. You're being so good, I knew you'd be good at this," Peter says. "I watch your mouth all the time, the way you bite your lips and suck on pens and the way you never stop talking. A little more, just... yes. Stiles."

It's more than he should say, more than he should trust, but Stiles is flushing harder and jerking his cock with every secret, every syllable.

"Hold still, just let me-" Peter says, and rolls his hips to push his cock past Stiles's pink lips just a little more. Stiles whines like he needs it, like this is exactly what he wants. So Peter keeps going. Slowly fucking Stiles's mouth like it's his right. His orgasm is approaching and normally he would hold off, wait, enjoy the pleasure. But Stiles isn't used to this and there's plenty of time later for more. "I'm close." Peter's voice is tight and sounds raw in his own ears.

He waits for Stiles to stop and pull off, but the boy just looks up at him with those big eyes and whimpers around his cock. Peter pushes in, deeper this time. His vision is hazy around the edges so that he's completely focused on Stiles, on how he looks, the sounds he's making, the way his hand is a blur on his own cock. He comes then, half-choking Stiles, but the boy swallows and groans like he can't get enough.

The scent of Stiles's own come is heavy in the air then, and Peter knows he got off on Peter getting off. It's a heady realization. Stiles sucks and licks until Peter is too sensitive.

"Come here," Peter says. He sounds wrecked and he knows it.

Stiles stands, a little clumsy getting to his feet again, and does up his pants. Peter fixes his own trousers and then he has Stiles pressing against his side. Stiles's face is buried in Peter's neck, and he's still panting lightly.

Peter wraps both arms around him and smiles to himself. "I wonder if my horoscope for the day predicted this."

Stiles hums and kisses his neck. "Mine said to go for what I've been wanting and I would reap the benefits." He yawns and cuddles impossibly closer. "How's my interpretation?"

Peter laughs and leans his chin on the top of Stiles's head. "A+."