Duty of a Left-Hand

Chapter XXI: Nobody's Type and The Hale's Deal

Stiles wakes up first. And he's panicking sightly, he thought it was a dream. A very nice dream. But no, he is cuddling with Peter Hale. And damn it, he is warm. Stiles doesn't want to move, so he doesn't. He won't get that chance a lot, so it's better to appreciate it while it last.

*Why does he smell so good?*

Who knew Peter Hale is someone so affectionate? Each actions, he takes while flirting, are sweet. His habits to hold both cheeks when asking Stiles for attention makes Stiles melts every time. And now this? Peter likes to cuddle while sleeping... The man, that can become crazy violent like it's his second nature, is actually awfully affectionate in his everyday life. Stiles falls a little more at every touch, and his heart won't shut up about it. Because Stiles always feels special when Peter's looking at him, and it's dangerous to think like that. He doesn't want to be crushed anymore by his inadequacy.

"Stiles is weird."

"Nobody will ever like you!! Go away."

"You're useless."

"Why do you keep moving? Stop! You're annoying."

"You're a loser. Nobody will date you. Stop dreaming."

"Maybe you're aiming a little high for you? She's not in the same category of people as you."

"A ten-year plan? Even in ten years she won't choose you."

"You're nobody's type, loser. Who would like a Spaz like you?"

Stiles anxiety spike at the memories. Peter hugs tightens, before waking up. "What's going on? What are you thinking about?"

Stiles throat tightens. "Nothing. Sorry for waking you."

Peter frowns. "I told you I will listen."

Stiles inhales in apprehension. "Can I ask you a question?"

Peter nods firmly. "Anytime."

Stiles hearts skips a beat. Fuck it, Stiles is going to ask a dumb question, and he will regret it as soon as he says it. "Do you have a type?"

Peter's eyebrows go up, he clears his throat. "I'm only attracted to clever people."

*Of course...*

Stiles sags in defeat. "So, Lydia is your type?"

Peter startles at that. "What?.. No, not really. Don't get me wrong, Miss Martin has a certain appeal. But intellect isn't only reserved to academic geniuses. There are different types of clever. I like all of them."

Stiles hums. "Is it why you said, when you met Mr. Argent, that you wanted to appreciate him before he started talking? I always wondered, does people become less attractive to you if they are dumb?"

*Fuck please say no, I will never get a chance otherwise.*

"Why are you so dumb?"

"Will You. Just. STOP. TALKING??!!!!"

Peter laughs. "Yes. But he is less dumb that I thought, so his appeal is still there..."

*Fuck.*

Stiles interrupts. "So, He is your type."

Peter frowns. "No. You are."

Stiles sputters, while looking into blue eyes in shock. "Wha... What?"

Peter's mouth twitches at the hammering of Stiles hearts. "You. Are. My. Type. Stiles."