- Explicit Sex
- Alternate Universe
- First Time
Peter groaned as he looked at the text message on his phone. It was one of the other chefs. He rubbed at his nose before slipping his phone int his pocket and grabbing his apron from the back of the door. Boyd looked at him as he slipped out and shook his head. Peter shrugged. There wasn’t much that could be done. They were going to need help. Mac and cheese day was one of the busiest lunches that they had.
“Bossman, you have plans for lunch,” Erica said. She pouted at him.
“Well, it’s that or leave Boyd with no one to run the vegetarian station,” Peter said.
“Oh, damn. Really?” Boyd asked.
“Yup. I can head it up, and maybe I’ll be able to slip out and say hello to Noah and Stiles.”
“I’ll let the Sheriff know when he gets here. That means you are running fries as well,” Erica said.
“I’m well aware.” Peter walked over to see how the station was set up. Boyd had done it, so Peter knew that it was going to be perfect. “Erica, get Stacy in here for dinner prep and dinner. I wanna see how she does. If she does well, she’s taking Stewart’s spot on lunch and prep.”
“You got it. She will have to see about childcare, which is why I know you aren’t getting her in here for lunch.”
“Give her Miss Jean’s number again. She’ll adore little Jimmy’s company.”
Erica nodded and slipped out of the kitchen and into the front to head up to the bar to get things going on calling.
Peter focused on getting everything ready for him. He worked a little differently hand Boyd, but it wasn’t horribly different. He could do this. He looked at his helpers and found that they at least didn’t look scared. “Which one of you is least scared of the deep fryer?”
The two guys looked at each other, and then the one furthest from Peter raised his arm.
“Okay, then you are in charge of curly fries. They are already prepped and ready to go. You’ve just gotta drop down the right amount. You know how?”
The guy nodded his head.
Peter wasn’t sure that either of them were going to make it long term. Boyd did most of the hiring, and while Peter talked to them and sat in, Boyd was the one who ran the kitchen, and that meant he knew better what was needed. Just as the one who didn’t raise his hand turned, Peter saw the scarring on his arms before pulled down the sleeve of his jacket. It was burn scars of some kind. At least that gave him a reason to not want to work the deep fryer.
There were three areas in the kitchen, one for meats and gluten, one that was for vegetarian things, which could also include gluten, and then the section for everything gluten-free. It was run by a sous chef that Peter had hired when it was figured out that there was a small grouping of people in the town that had severe sensitivities to it and then a few more found that while gluten didn’t give the gut issues, it helped cut it out in other ways. Enough of them were regulars that Peter made sure that they had an area in the kitchen that was set up just for them.
Boyd called out orders and the machines at each station printed, and then it was just in the zone of cooking.
Peter loved cooking for himself, and while he did well at this, he didn’t like doing it every single day. He liked helping when needed, though.
Erica popped in a while later, and Peter saw her look at him and then slip back out again. He assumed that Noah and Stiles were there. Peter was looking forward to meeting him. He was sure that he had met him before, but the Hale children had a menagerie of friends and many of them he never tried to remember. Peter had tried when they had been in grade school, but it had become too much when every day, at least ten kids were running around for each of the kids. So Peter had just smushed them all into one person and was content with that.
Peter didn’t come out of it all until the last ticket was sent, and he was able to lean back and focus on the fact that even the vegetarian station had been packed.
“Is it always like that, Boyd?” Peter asked.
“For your station? Yes. We have more than a few who will get the veggie mac and cheese even if they are meat-eaters. It gave us a break a little. I’m just glad we only do this for lunch.”
Peter nodded his head and pulled the apron off of his person. He looked at his clothes to see that other than sweat, he wasn’t stained anywhere, which was a good thing. He knew that there were still people eating. While lunch service stopped at one-thirty, that just meant that no one got in the doors after that point. They would cook until everyone was gone. Lunch desserts were grab and serve, so that lessened the strain on the kitchen. It seemed that no one came in a rush at the closing time, though, so that was good.
Erica came back into the kitchen with a tray of smoothies and laid it down on the table just inside the door. Each straw had a name written on the bit of wrapper sticking up out of the glass. Peter found his and smiled as it was the peach and cucumber one that he really liked.
“They are still here. I told them to stay and talk,” Erica said when Peter leaned against the table beside her.
“Really? Why did they stay?”
“Well, they were talking, and people kept stopping to talk to the Sheriff, you know as a lot do. Busybodies. A few thought that he was on a date. Which I found funny as hell. Stiles actually laughed at that. He’s also racked up over twenty in iced London Fogs. He got a hot one earlier but wanted something cooler to drink with lunch. The Sheriff is just drinking iced tea like it’s going out of business.”
“He always drinks a lot with mac and cheese. I think I clocked seven glasses one time. Comp their drinks and don’t let the Sheriff know until he’s going to pay. He’s gonna cover Stiles’ so that will make it a little better.”
“Yeah, Sheriff already told the waitress that he’s to get the check and not Stiles. Stiles might be ex-Army and a Sentinel, but his father is scary. I kind of forget that he’s a Sentinel as well. He’s just so laid back.”
“It’s part of why he doesn’t need a Guide. I think that Claudia worked as his Guide in all the ways that matter now the memory of her does. I’ll go and clean up my arms and change my shirt before I head out. I don’t want to overwhelm Stiles with the scent of me if it would bother him.”
“Don’t worry about that. He sneezed and glared at Miss Melinda when she got close, but he just shut off his nose.” Erica grinned as she said that.
“I still don’t to overwhelm him,” Peter said.
Erica shrugged, and she was still grinning. Peter could almost think that she knew more than she was letting on, but then Peter knew that Stiles and her were friendly. She had heard the talk of him enough while they had been getting things ready for the shift today. His three minions were all happy to have Stiles home. Peter wasn’t sure what that was about, but it wasn’t his place to ask about it. He shook his head and took another drink of his smoothie before heading out to see Noah and Stiles. He looked around and found them tucked into the far corner that had nothing else around it. The bathroom and kitchen entrances were on this side of the bar, and that side was just walls. It was a good place to stick them. Stiles had his back to the corner, and Noah was beside him with his back to the bar and a wall. Both of them could see people coming up to them.
There was a buzz at the back of his mind, and Peter stopped. He usually kept a very tight lid on his Guide abilities when he was working. When he was home, he let them slip out and take over the whole area. There were too many people in the city for him to ever think that he could function with feeling even a few of their emotions. It was the only thing that made Peter want a Sentinel, to be able to focus wholly on them and let his mind and abilities do what they wanted.
Letting himself go a little, Peter felt the brush of a few other minds in the area and a few new ones as well. Gurney appeared on the bar, one of his hind legs slapping at his ear as he scratched it. He was looking around a little when he was done and then took off down the bar. He was shocked when Noah’s head followed him. Gurney was visible. The hare never really let himself out to where others could see him. He was a shy little fucker so very much in contrast to how Peter was.
Gurney landed on the table that Noah and Stiles were sitting at, and his head was turned toward Stiles. Peter cocked his head to the side. Stiles was kind of looking at Gurney, but he hadn’t been all that focused on Gurney before that second. In fact, his head hadn’t moved. Peter rushed over as soon as it clicked in his mind. He crouched at Stiles’ side and laid on hand on the back of his chair and the other on the table just inches from Stiles’ hand.
“What are you doing?” Noah asked. He stood up like he was going to shove Peter away.
“He’s zoned out, Noah.”
“No, he was just talking about a scent. Then your damned rabbit jumped on the table.”
Peter ignored the jab at Gurney. Noah knew well that Gurney was a hare and not a rabbit. It was a jab at Peter while he was freaked out a little.
“What was the scent?”
“He didn’t say just that he liked it.”
Peter lifted his hand up and pushed his sleeve up before holding it closer to Stiles’ nose. He didn’t have them touch even though he wanted to. He jerked it away when Stiles inhaled deeply, and his eyes went from barely focused to narrowing in on Gurney on the table. He ignored the wrist in front of him and laughed a little.
“A European Hare, that’s rare for this area,” Stiles said.
“Yes, he is. He’s a proud little fucker too,” Peter said.
Stiles finally turned his eyes to look at Peter, and those eyes felt like they drilled down all the way into Peter’s soul.
“Mine’s a pretty, pretty Princess, and he hates it when I tell him that. He once hid from me for a day when I did it. Which was kind of funny considering that he was there all the time before that.”
Peter laughed. “Do I get to meet yours?”
“He’s shy right now, it seems.”
Peter looked at Noah. He was looking tot he side, a shadowy part of the bar where, with the bar lights off, it was half in shadow. Peter saw a pair of eyes looking at him from there, and then the thing in the shadows was moving. A very dark-colored fox was stalking toward him. Peter wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, but he felt like he was being hunted and should be running away.
“He’s very beautiful. Melanistic Fox, right?”
“Yes. My superiors were very surprised because there has been not a single one on record since we’ve been recording them. I just figured that he didn’t want to be a plain fox since I’m not exactly a normal human. He wanted to be one of a kind just like I am.”
Peter laughed and moved his hand closer. He made his intention to touch very noticeably. Stiles nodded his head even before Peter hesitated to wait for the answer. Peter cupped the side of Stiles’ face, and he felt the slim connection start to build. It was the only thing that they were going to have until both of them pushed more of themselves into it.
“Well, I think you’ll do,” Peter said.
Stiles laughed, and he reached out, cupping the side of Peter’s face in a mimic of what Peter was doing.
“Fucking hell,” Noah said.
“Oh, it’s adorable.” Erica’s voice was like a bell.
“I’m going to fire them all,” Peter said.
Stiles’ eyes crinkled in laughter, and he looked down. Peter followed his gaze, keeping his hand on Stiles’ cheek. Gurney was trying to creep over. It looked like he was aiming to get into Stiles’ lap. Before Peter could say a single thing, he had fur over his hands, and he looked done, nearly dislodging Stiles’ hand. The fox was pretty much in his lap. He had to give him the props that he was a sneaky fox. Peter felt another layer of Stiles’ mind settle on him with the contact. He looked up to see Gurney looking at the fox before he just jumped and landed in Stiles’ lap.
“Okay. I’m out of here. Erica, it’s your job to make sure they don’t break the law.”
“Eh, we’ve got an apartment up a floor. Not sure the town would like these two getting it on in an unshielded room, but it’s that or public sex. Boyd has a spray bottle. It worked on the last couple that met here.”
Peter growled at Erica, and all she did was give him an air kiss.
“Well, I’d prefer if they were in a place with shielding, but that’s not my place. I need to sleep before I deal with this.” The sound of the door shutting jerked Peter out of his own near zone out. Stiles didn’t jerk his hand back, but he slowly pulled it back with a caress of fingers tips on skin. He laid his hands on the table and then moved them again to pet Gurney.
“Who is this?” Stiles asked.
“Ah, yes. That’s my Gurney,” Peter said.
“Oh, really? Like the medical bed?” Stiles had a quirk to his lips as he spoke, and the light in his eyes told Peter that he was being made fun of. Yet there was something there that told Peter that he knew exactly where the name came from. Which was a shock for someone Stiles’ age.
“You impermanent little shit.” Peter pulled his hand away from Stiles, but the connection to him didn’t go away. It faded a little but was still pulsing strong at the edges of Peter’s mind.
Stiles itched to touch again. He wanted so badly to touch, to touch this name everywhere. He was someone who was obviously well known to Erica and to his father, but he had no clue who he was. His Spirit Animal was well named in Stiles’ opinion. This was his Guide, and he knew it. It seemed like he knew that they were connected as well. He could feel happiness though the hare that was in his lap. Stiles wasn’t sure what was going on. He had heard others talking, but he was so focused on the man that all he heard was a buzz like the teacher in the Charlie Brown stuff.
“It’s okay. My father calls me that a lot. I’m not shocked you would as well.”
“What’s your fox’s name?” the man asked.
“Oh, well, my father likes to call him Master of Assassins. He jokingly asked him this morning if he was going to be head of security for the house. I flipped him off.”
The man’s laugh was soothing, and it settled Stiles a little more.
“Thufir, huh? That’s an interesting choice for someone your age.”
“My mom loved the books, but she never let me read them until I was older. She died before I could read them and talk to her about them. Dad bought me the entire original series when I turned thirteen. I tried to skip school so I could read them, but Dad just took them away. I didn’t get them back until I was done with homework. Then he only gave me the one I was currently reading.”
“So, you liked the dry politics at that age?”
“It’s different, and I didn’t understand everything at first, but I understood enough to enjoy it. Dad blames that on my love of watching pretty much anything, but I only go for hard science fiction and epic fantasy for reading. When I got sent out, Dad bought me a Kindle. Loaded it with all of the Dune books, including the newer ones. He’d send me new books on it all the time. If he saw anything that I might like in the store. I got really desperate and would read anything at the end of my last deployment. I didn’t have schoolwork to keep me busy.”
“Sounds like fun,” the man said.
“Whats’ your name?” Stiles asked. He realized that he didn’t know enough about him to guess who he was. He obviously worked at the restaurant, but there were a lot of people who worked there. The man’s eyebrow lifted, and there was a lilt to them that Stiles knew better than most people. He saw that a lot on Derek, but Cora did it a good deal as well. So a Hale. There was only a single Hale who worked here high enough to be talked to like Erica had been doing. “Peter.”
“Got it in one, sweetheart. Yes, I’m Peter Hale. I won’t embarrass you by saying your name, but your father did teach me how to say it. So let’s get out of here. Did you rid with your father, or is your junker of a Jeep sitting in my parking lot?” Peter had a grin on his lips as he said it.
Stiles felt like he needed to get the man back for saying what he was about his Jeep. He shoved at Peter’s shoulder and was barked at by Thufir for it. The fox shifted off of Peter’s lap and walked a few steps before disappearing. Stiles looked down at Gurney, who was content in his lap. The hare looked like he was more than content to stay right where he was.
“My Jeep is at home. I drove Dad’s SUV here. His work car is in the shop for standard maintenance, so he’s been using someone else’s. I guess there were a few issues, and after it’s done, all the others are getting looked at for the same reason.”
“Ah, yes. Noah was griping about that this morning at breakfast. So we will take my car out to my house in the Preserve.”
“On the Hale part of the lands, yes?”
“Yes. It’s closer to the city than the main house, on a street and everything.” Peter stood up and held out his hand.
Stiles stood and hesitated only long enough to move Gurney to lay cuddled like a baby in one arm before he slipped his hand into Peter’s. The bond that was in Stiles’ mind was steady but now burned brighter for just a few seconds.
The house that was in front of him was beautiful. It was the only house on the street and was actually situated at the end of a cul-de-sac. There was a lot of land on either side of the house and up the street that was just well-maintained gardens.
Stiles inhaled the scent of the flowers and found that every single one of them was soft in scent but beautiful. There were many varieties of flowers that had been bred over the years to have little to no scent or such a soft scent that it didn’t bother Sentinels. Peter’s gardens were overflowing with them. It more than the house spoke of Peter’s wealth.
Peter’s finances were not a mystery to Stiles. He had heard his father talking about how he invested the money left over after he had gone to college and how he had dipped into it for his restaurant but was content to let the bulk of it just earn him more money. He could live; however, he wanted and not work another day, his father had said once. It hadn’t been said as a slight toward Peter but a comment on how he chose to work instead of just sitting in the lap of luxury.
Noah liked him a lot, and that said something to Stiles. That and the fact that his father hadn’t said a single thing even though he had to have known what Peter and Stiles had started.
“We didn’t pay,” Stiles said as Peter parked his car.
“What?” Peter asked. He turned the car off and opened up his door but didn’t move to leave. He looked at Stiles.
“Dad and I…I heard him tell the waitress that he was paying, but we never actually did.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure that Erica has already comped the food. I had already told her to do the drinks. I’m glad you like the London Fog.”
“I can’t stand coffee anymore, and I used to mainline it. I mean, like there was one point in high school that Dad told me that I smelled more like coffee than myself. Tea I can handle, though. Well, most of them. The smoke tea I can’t do.”
“Do you like tea?”
“Yeah. I had dad send me a few things from the tea shop in town.”
Peter grinned at him and got out. Stiles moved to open his door, but he stopped when he saw that Peter was headed around the car. He dropped his hand from the door just as Peter opened it up. Gurney was still in Stiles’ lap, but he seemed to be asleep. The hare hadn’t moved at all for most of the trip, but as Stiles put his hand into Peter’s Gurney disappeared. Stiles unfolded himself from the car and followed along behind Peter as the man pulled him to the door. He unlocked the house and turned off the alarm.
“Sentinel friendly alarm.”
“Yes. Everything in my house is. I never saw myself settling down, but I figured that it would be less work to make sure. Besides, I have two online family members and, of course, your father in my life. It just made sense. I’ll make us a pot of tea, and you can wander around the house and familiarize yourself with it. I have no secrets from you.”
“Even what’s in your bedside drawer?” Stiles asked.
Peter laughed and waved Stiles to go away.
Stiles looked at the living room first. It was the first big room that he came to. Peter had headed down the hallway that the front door opened up onto. The living room was simple, furniture that looked good but also looked like it was built to last and be comfortable. Beyond, there was a dining room that had a table that was mostly covered in recipes and other papers that looked like they had to do with running the restaurant. The kitchen was beyond that, and Stiles entered to find Peter at the stove, putting a tea kettle on the stove. There was a pot beside where he was that Stiles could smell tea leaves in. There was a cabinet that was beside here Stiles was, and it was where most of the tea smell was coming from. He walked to where he could see it. There were a lot of teas from the shop in town in there, including Stiles’s favorite for drinking with breakfast.
The stairs to head up to the second floor were by the living room, so Stiles headed down the hallway to go up to that floor. He found that Peter’s scent was coming strongly from the library on the second floor. He found such a concentrated scent that he stopped and inhaled so deep that his lungs became uncomfortable with how far they had spread out. This was where Peter stayed most of the time when he was home. Stiles could see the evidence that he had fallen asleep on the couch that got the morning sun the most a few times. The pattern that was worn into the cushions was very evident to Stiles’ eyes. He looked around the room slowly. Walking to the shelf where there were first editions of every single of the original Dune series sitting on the shelf. He walked his fingers down them as he looked at them. He could tell that they had been read but that they were also well cared for. Stiles wondered what kind of discussions they could get into about the characters. They seemed to both have a type given what they had named their Spirit Animals.
Stiles left the room and went to the master bedroom. The other rooms didn’t matter to him. He could smell that Peter’s family had laid claim to a few of them, and he wasn’t going to touch another Sentinel’s area inside of the house. He could smell Spencer’s room, as well. Stiles knew that he had come online recently after meeting a Sentinel who was slowly coming online as well. They were good friends, and Stiles had been happy to hear that they were slowly becoming more.
Peter’s bedroom was a reflection of the rest of the house. Things were comfortable but meant to last. It smelled heavily of Peter in here. He could smell that Peter had jerked off recently and hadn’t changed the sheets since then. Stiles walked around the foot of the bed and touched the sheets before he laid down on them, his feet hanging off the side of the bed. He closed his eyes and inhaled again. The scent of Peter’s arousal wasn’t too strong in the bed, but it was enough that it calmed Stiles. There was something under it all that Stiles hadn’t been able to place yet in Peter’s scent. A bit of him that was harder to uncover, and it wasn’t until Stiles turned his head and grabbed Peter’s pillow and placed it over his face to inhale that he caught it. Bergamot and black tea. Stiles’ nose had been filled with it at a restaurant from the drinks made there, and what he was drinking that he hadn’t realized that it was also buried in Peter’s natural scent. It was good, the scent of him. It calmed Stiles down again, and he left the pillow where it was.
The sound of soft steps across the wood in the hall told Stiles that Peter was coming to find him. He felt no shame in what he was doing, so he left the pillow where it was. There was the clink of mugs on wood, and then the pillow was being lifted up. Stiles was looked at Peter’s face and saw the soft look that was there.
“Done exploring?” Peter asked.
“For now. I heard you set the alarm.” Stiles had pushed the sound of the alarm buzzing lowly from the spot on the wall by the balcony doors and hadn’t really let the sound settle on his mind until then.
“It’s a habit from years of living here. So, how do you feel about me climbing up on you?” Peter moved until he was standing right at Stiles’ knees, his legs spread to where they were on either side of Stiles’.
Stiles didn’t answer with words, but he pushed himself up and kicked off his shoes before laying with his feet sticking off the bed. Peter had one of the biggest beds that Stiles had ever seen. It was square-shaped and had to take special sheets to fit it. Peter crawled up on the bed and braced himself above Stiles with a smile on his face. Slowly, Peter leaned down, nosing under Stiles’ chin. Stiles tipped his chin up, and he was rewarded with the sound of Peter inhaling. Then Peter licked up the column of Stiles’ neck.
“HEY!” Stiles yelled, and he moved. He didn’t stop until Peter was prostrate under him, his hands holding down Peter’s to the bed. The scent of Peter’s arousal filled up Stiles’ nose as he stared down at his Guide. The scent of bergamot got stronger, and Stiles wanted to bury himself in that scent and never leave.
“I’m yours, do what you will, Sentinel,” Peter said.