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Series:
Part 1 of When the Pack Finds Out
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Published:
2015-10-03
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3,606
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1/1
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To the Challengers

Summary:

Stiles stormed up to the table and snatched his phone out of Lydia’s hands. “Not cool, guys.”

“Stiles!” Scott managed to choke on the name and shout it at the same time. “What the heck are naked pictures of Peter and Chris doing on your phone?”

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Stiles couldn’t believe he had ever been nervous about meeting up with the pack again after seven years since most of them graduated.

Malia, Kira, Lydia, Scott, and Liam were laughing and enjoying themselves at the diner where they had decided to meet up at. The diner was older than they were and had been a place they had frequented on occasion when they were in high school due to its closeness to BHS.

Kira rested her head on Malia’s shoulder and giggled at something Scott had said. Malia laced her fingers through Kira’s and stole bits of chicken off of Lydia’s salad. Lydia gestured like she was going to stab Malia’s hand with her fork while also carrying on a conversation with Liam like she wasn’t threatening someone with bodily harm.

Stiles grinned to himself and slurped his milkshake.

It felt like old times, but even better; no one was trying to kill them.

Stiles’ phone vibrated in his pocket and he checked it.

Peter had sent him a picture.

In the image, Chris was asleep on the couch and Peter was crouched in front of him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Jealous?” The text below the picture read.

Stiles snorted in amusement and typed, “No, but sounds like u r. B home soon. then you can have most of my attention.”

“Most?”

“Hey, Chris needs it 2.”

Scott elbowed Stiles in the ribs. “Come on, Stiles. I thought we all agreed to stash the phones. Who knows when all of us will be able to meet up like this again?”

Liam groaned. “Definitely not until my mid terms are over. It’s not fair. None of you warned me college would be hard.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t,” Lydia quipped. “Really, I don’t see what you’re complaining about. College is just an over glorified high school really. Same tests. Same essays.”

Kira and Malia shuddered.

“Not everyone is a genius like you.” Stiles set his phone on the table.

“No, they are not.” Lydia smacked away Malia’s hand from her salad. “You’ve been awful quiet by the way.”

“Are you joking? I talked about getting my master’s degree and the pain and torture that comes from TA-ing for undergrad classes. Seriously, I thought the whole point of the SATs was to make certain everyone going into college knew the basics. Most of the papers I’ve graded read like my text messages.”

“Further proof that college is not that hard,” Lydia stated.

Liam buried his face in his arms and groaned.

Scott sympathetically patted him on the back.

“We weren’t talking about that though.” Lydia tossed her curls over shoulder and clasped her hands together. She rested her chin on her interlaced fingers. “We were talking about the fact that everyone knows you’ve been dating some guy for years now, and you still haven’t given us any details about him, except for the occasional slip up.”

It took all of Stiles’ willpower not to tense.

He’d been dating Peter and Chris for years, and while he had entertained the idea of telling his friends about his love life, he had refrained from doing so.

He loved Peter and Chris, and would happily show them off to strangers. His friends and family were a different matter.

He wanted to show them off to friends and family too, but he wasn’t naïve. The fact that he was in a ployarmous relationship with two older men would be enough reason for most people to think he was sick in the head and question his judgment. If those people knew about Peter’s history, that Stiles had dated Malia, and that Chris was the father of one of Stiles’ deceased friends, they would think him the most deviant and abhorrent person on the planet.

Getting his friends to support his relationship with two older men would have been difficult, but Stiles like to think with time they might accept such a relationship. His friends would never accept him dating Peter and Chris though.

The sad truth was, Stiles couldn’t even blame them.

The same reasons that would disgust his friends and family were the same ones that had caused Stiles to hesitate all those years ago when Peter had asked Stiles out.

Chris hadn’t even been in the picture then. It had just been him and Peter, and Stiles had refused. It wasn’t until after a few months of Peter remaining in Stiles’ life—despite the rejection—and a couple of life-risking moments, that Stiles had asked Peter out.

A year later Chris had waltzed back into their lives, and the next thing Stiles knew, the hunter had joined their relationship.

Lydia snapped her fingers in front of Stiles’ face. “Stop picturing your boyfriend naked and share the details already.”

Stiles faked a laugh. He sipped his milkshake to buy himself some time. “There really isn’t much to say.”

“You’ve been dating for over two years now.” Kira pouted.

Five for Peter. Four for Chris. Stiles kept up his cheerful façade. “You know how it is though. Things become routine after a while, so there really isn’t anything exciting to tell.”

“How about a name?” Scott asked. “You’ve never given us one.”

Stiles shrugged, going for nonchalance. “What’s in a name?”

“Letters,” Malia deadpanned.

“Ba ump tsh.” Stiles mimed playing the drums.

Everyone else just groaned in agony at the poor joke.

Stiles chuckled and pushed out of his seat.

“You don’t get to leave in the middle of our interrogation,” Lydia said.

“Unless you want me to pee in Scott’s empty water glass, I think everyone here would prefer for me to go do my business somewhere else.”

“Fine, but don’t think you’re off the hook,” Lydia warned.

“Whatever you say.” Stiles kept his jovial expression on his face as weaved around tables. Once he was hidden away in the restroom, the joy on Stiles’ face fell and he clung to the porcelain sink.

Crap! Crap! Crap! CRAP! Stiles knew he’d thought too soon. This was exactly the reason why he’d been so nervous about meeting up with the pack. He could bullshit his way out of the situation if he was dealing with them individually, but with lie detectors Scott, Liam, and Malia combined with Lydia’s perception he was screwed.

He knew how to omit and be vague enough to trick the weres in the group.

Lydia though… Lydia had always been good at picking up on his small tells. Almost as good as Peter and Chris, which was kind of a scary thought. To trick her he’d need a convincing story and to use his body language to convey honesty. He also couldn’t be vague with her; she would pick apart any story he gave her until she had every detail.

If Stiles couldn’t be vague then he couldn’t trick the weres.

He couldn’t do it; he couldn’t hide his secret from all of them at once.

He could be quite the trickster when needed, but this was above his level. This was master manipulator level.

This was Peter’s level.

Stiles’ chest ached with shame as he reached into his pocket for his phone; he wanted to be able to handle the situation on his own and not go running to his boyfriend, but he needed help.

Stiles frowned when all his fingers met only lint.

Maybe he’d put his phone in the wrong pocket?

Stiles tried his other side, but didn’t find the device. He reached behind his back and patted his gluts in search of his phone.

A cold sheet of ice spread through Stiles’ chest as his brain replayed the last place Stiles’ had seen his phone.

He’d left it on the table.

Stiles’ heart punched him in the chest.

He sucked in a deep breath. He was overreacting. Sure, he had left his phone with the others, but that didn’t mean they were looking through it. Plus, Scott was there; Scott would totally defend Stiles’ right to privacy. Also, they didn’t know Peter or Chris’ names, so they wouldn’t now which list of text messages to go through. Even if they tried, Peter was listed under the name Deadpool and Chris was Van Helsing.

Stiles tried not to think about the hundreds of photos he had of Peter and Chris half nude on his phone. …or the few in which he was making out with either one of them. …and the cuddle pics.

Stiles banged his head on the wall.

No, he told himself. He wasn’t going to panic. He was going to go out there, grab his phone, and then act like he was feeling sick in the hopes that he could leave the group early.

Straightening up, he squared his shoulders and marched out of the bathroom with a smile on his face and a voice screaming in his head: You’re going to do this, and you are not going to act like a dumb fuck and let everyone see how nervous you are. You’ve fought werewolves, berserkers, and psychopaths. You can do this.

Stiles’ internal chanting was slaughtered mercilessly when he spotted all of his friends in wide-eyed shock. All of them were leaning into Lydia to get a good look at Stiles’ phone clutched in her hands.

Act casual or aggressive? Casual or aggressive? Fuck it!

Stiles stormed up to the table and snatched the phone out of Lydia’s hands. “Not cool, guys.”

“Stiles!” Scott managed to choke on the name and shout it at the same time. “What the heck are naked pictures of Peter and Chris doing on your phone?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “They moonlight as porn stars and wanted my opinion on some things.”

“I can believe that about Peter,” Malia said.

“Is this some joke?” Liam asked. “I barely had to deal with the guy and I know what a sadistic and murderous asshole Peter is.”

Stiles didn’t know whether he was relieved or annoyed that the group was more focused on Peter’s past than the litany of other reasons why Stiles should have little to zero involvement with Peter.

It was intriguing to note that no one had said anything about Chris. Then again, when one is competing for attention against a known serial killer, it is hard to win the spotlight.

“Are you dating…” Lydia wrinkled her nose, and Stiles mourned the fact that if they were talking about anything else, he would have found the action cute on her. “Are you dating Chris and Peter?”

Kira sat up. “Whoa. Wait. Both of them? I thought—”

“Are you crazy?” Scott snapped at Lydia. “Stiles wouldn’t date either one of them. Peter is a psychopath and Chris is Allison’s dad. He would never—”

“Then explain the pictures in which Stiles is kissing them or cuddling them,” Lydia rebuked.

Scott shut his mouth. Opened it. Shut it again. His eyes flashed red and he curled his hands into fists.

Betrayal lanced through Stiles.

He knew this would happen, but that didn’t stop the pain. The best thing he could do now would be to walk away and let the others cool down. They’d still fight with him, but he rather do it when everyone wasn’t in shock and reeling from the reveal. Emotions were too raw right now, too festering.

“I’m going.” Stiles turned on heel and headed for the door.

Scott leaped out of his seat and grabbed Stiles’ by the arm. “Stiles, you can’t just walk away. This is huge!”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Well, I do.”

“That’s not your decision.” Stiles ripped his arm out of Scott’s grasp.

Stiles got outside the diner when Scott latched onto his arm again. “Just tell me, is it true? Are you really dating them both?”

Stiles paused, weighing how likely Scott was going to let him go without answering at least one question. “Yes.”

Scott clamped on tighter to Stiles.

Stiles grimaced. “Ease up on the grip.”

“Were you hit with a curse or something recently? What about Chris? Was he hit with one too?”

It was like Scott had grazed a hot rod against Stiles’ skin. Stiles fought to keep his calm; he’d known such questions would come up if Scott or the others ever found out about Peter and Chris. “If I was, the curse has been going on for five years now. I would hope by now Deaton would have noticed something during my pop-ins for information.”

Scott released Stiles like he had been the one burned. “How—how could you… how can you?” Scott shook his head. His eyes flashed red for the briefest of seconds again. “That’s Allison’s dad! How could you sleep with him? How do you think she’d react if she were still alive?”

Stiles scowled, the pain welling up in his chest. “Don’t forget Malia’s dad—and I dated Malia—so really, when you think about it: me dating Chris is nothing compared to me dating Peter on the morality scale. But even after all these years, I guess it always comes back to Allison.”

Scott flinched but quickly recovered, his fury mounting. “She was your friend! You’re pissing on her memory, and yeah, what you’re doing with Peter is so messed up, I don’t even know where to begin. It’s not just Allison who you’re betraying; you’re hurting Malia too. I thought you loved her.”

Stiles shoved his hand in his pocket to keep himself from decking Scott across the face. “I love Malia. She’s my best friend—my sister.”

“Who fucks her dad!”

Stiles arms quaked with tension. “Yeah, I fucking know Scott, and I know that makes me a fucking terrible person, okay? You really think I don’t know how messed up all of this is? You think I was hiding who I was dating because of some thrill? No, I’ve known from the beginning that this is messed up, but guess what? It doesn’t change my feelings.”

“They’re too old, and one of them is a killer.”

“Actually, Chris is a killer too. Just because you choose to have him on your side and label him as a good guy doesn’t change the fact that he’d spent his whole life hunting and killing supernatural creatures. And considering Gerard was in charge of the Argents for years, you can be sure as hell that there were probably quite a few innocents killed by him.”

“That’s different! And not what we’re talking.”

“And what are we talking about, Scott?” Stiles made an exaggerated hum. “Is it about Peter? Chris? Allison? The age differences? The polyarmory? What do you want to talk about so we can just end this conversation and I can go someplace where I don’t have to hear every doubt that has ever played through my head on Scott stereo.”

Scott opened his mouth to speak, but Malia slapped a hand over it.

Scott and Stiles startled.

Malia’s eyes glowed an eerie blue. She whirled on Scott. “Get back inside and cool off.”

“Malia,” Scott started but was cut off.

“If anyone has the right to be pissed here, it’s me. Now go back inside and give Stiles and me some privacy.”

Scott clenched his jaw. His fingers curled and uncurled like claws. Finally, Scott took a deep breath then returned to the diner.

Kira, Liam, and Lydia watched the sequence of events from the window.

Stiles shook his head and grumbled to himself. “So I guess you want to yell at me too?”

Malia cocked her head and strolled up to him. Her features scrunched as she scrutinized Stiles’ face. “You don’t look like you’ve lost your mind. Then again, most of the time neither did Peter.”

Stiles snorted. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I’ll beat up Scott for you if you want.”

Stiles thoughts crashed like the carts of a train ramming together as the train comes to a screeching halt.

Honesty and sincerity shone in Malia’s eyes.

Stiles didn’t know what to do. He thought Malia would be the most furious of his friends, and here she was offering to defend him. “Why?”

Malia shrugged. “Scott’s a jerk and rarely gets any shit for it. Defending you is the perfect excuse to teach him a lesson.”

Stiles shook his head. “I’m dating your dad.”

“Only by blood.” Malia shrugged. “Your dad is more my dad than Peter ever was. There is still that bit of a creep factor about you dating him, but for me it’s not: my ‘ex-boyfriend is dating my dad,’ creep, but more of a ‘my brother is dating is psycho and a man who own a lot of guns and drinks a lot.’ I may have lived in the woods for several years, but even that sounds like a bad combination to me.”

“Your brother?” Stiles repeated in awe.

“Your not the only one who sees us as siblings.” Malia punched Stiles in the arm.

“But what about the age difference and the whole threesome thing?” Malia could not really be this calm and accepting of his relationship.

Malia shrugged. “You spend most of your life as a coyote and see how little those things matter to you.”

Stiles’ disbelief and hope waged war against one another.

“Oh, there is one more thing I find creepy.” Malia grimaced. “It’s so weird that I know what your sex face looks like and Chris and Peter do too now.” She fake-shuddered. “I don’t know why it weirds me out, but it does. But then again, I know Kira’s sex face and so does Scott, so what’cha goin’ do?” Malia tossed her hands up in the air.

Stiles gaped. “Are you for real? You’re not just saying all of this out of pity, are you?”

“No, Stiles.” Malia tugged Stiles’ into a hug. “It’s weird and confusing, and I think you and Chris should break up with Peter, but I get it. And I know you. No matter what stupid thing you do, you usually do it for the right reasons and don’t mean any harm.” She pulled away and flicked his ear. “Although that doesn’t mean you don’t suck when you do something stupid. You’re just more forgivable.”

“Ow.” Stiles rubbed his ear. “Thanks,” his tone was sarcastic, but the sentiment was sincere.

Malia slapped him on the arm. “You better get out of here. I can hear Liam and Kira holding Scott back in there.”

Stiles grabbed Malia’s hand and squeezed. “You're the best, and I’ll always love you.”

Malia smiled. “Same, but you better stop with the declarations of love or my girlfriend is going to unleash Scott on you.”

Stiles chuckled and ran for his Jeep.

He peeled out of the parking lot just in time to see Scott stomping out of the diner doing his best pissed off Derek Hale impersonation.

Stiles winced.

He should probably set up a contingency plan in case Derek decided to make an unexpected visit in the next few days.

An hour later, Stiles arrived at his home.

A delicious and spicy smell tickled Stiles’ nose as he entered the house. He followed the smell to the kitchen where Peter was cooking.

Chris stood behind the werewolf with his arms encircling Peter’s waist.

“Something smells good,” Stiles announced.

“How was the reunion?” Chris lifted his head from Peter’s shoulder and smiled.

Stiles pulled out a chair from the kitchen table and slumped onto it. “Exhausting.”

Peter grumbled something under his breath and jostled Chris off him.

Chris took the hint and joined Stiles. “Everything all right?”

“We might get a visit from Derek. I don’t know which of us he will try to kill, but I feel like it will either be me or Peter.”

“Why would Derek try to kill us?”

Stiles sighed. “The secret is out.”

Chris stiffened.

Peter snorted. “Took them long enough to figure it out.”

“Peter,” Chris chastised.

“Have you ever seen Stiles with the others? He does not do much to hide our relationship. During one of your leaves I dry-humped him to completion just an hour before he met up with his friends and not one of the weres in the group suspected a thing even though he was bathed in my scent.”

Chris shook his head as he reached over and squeezed Stiles’ shoulder. “Your father might team up with Derek to kill us too.”

Peter paused in his cooking. He eyed Chris like he would an enemy, gaining information through the smallest of details and strategizing the enemy’s strength and weaknesses. “Don’t make me take a bullet for you, Chris, if the Sheriff visits.”

Stiles snickered at Peter’s strange way of expressing his love.

Chris smiled and hugged Stiles.

“Scott might visit too,” Stiles mumbled into Chris’ shoulder as he hugged the hunter back fiercely.

Peter scowled and threw down his spatula. “We’ll, let’s just throw a party and have everyone bring their own food.”

Stiles chuckled. “Or we could make it a fight night. We could set this place up with a ring and give everyone a chance to go a round with us.”

“If any more besides Derek, Scott, and the sheriff show up to fight us we’re outnumbered,” Chris said.

“Think we can take them all?” Stiles withdrew from Chris’ embrace just enough so he could look Chris in the eye.

“Together?” Chris’ arms wrapped around Stiles’ waist tighter. “No one’s beaten us yet.”

Stiles smiled and rested his chin on Chris’ shoulder. “You’re right. Let’s just see them try to tear us apart.”

“I’ll gladly rip any challengers apart.” Peter flicked out his claws.

“Peter!” Stiles and Chris chastised together.

Notes:

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