𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐘|𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢

𝟎𝟗.|𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃'𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘

UNEDITED
09.|Child's Play

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐎𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀'𝐒 eventful night, was nothing more than ordinary.

To Stiles' surprise neither the werecoyote nor older werewolf brought up the fact that he had walked out of the bedroom with their alpha.
He thought it was strange, but thought nothing more of it after seeing the raging blush on his cousin's cheeks.

"So, Peter, Mal, what's on the agenda today?"

Malia shrugged, glancing over at her father as she ate the food he'd prepared for them.

"Today, my daughter and I will be attending a party being held by my special friend."

His alpha rose a brow, "What friend, uncle?"

Peter smirked, winking at his nephew.

"A friend who does things with me I'd rather not bring to the table dear nephew."

Stiles scrunched up his nose at his statement, "Then why take Malia?"

Peter glared at the demigod, but rolled his eyes after receiving the alpha's glare in return.

"If you should know, Stiles, Malia is friends with said special friend's son."

Both the demigod and alpha looked over at the coyote for confirmation, the small nod of her head giving them somewhat a feeling of comfort.

"So, alpha, who's the kid that smells of the ocean?"

Stiles and Derek locked eyes briefly before the demigod cast his eyes down at his food while his alpha cleared his throat.

"This is Percy, Stiles' cousin from... Where'd you say again?"

Percy coughed, bright blue eyes meeting the russet brown hues of his cousin.

"New York. I'm from New York."

Peter raised a brow, seemingly suspicious of his nephew and the hyperactive spazz he knew and mostly hated.

"And why are you here, exactly?"

Light blue hues ran through the dark brown eyes of Stiles then, angry that Peter would ask such a personal question so upfront.
With distilled anger he gripped his fork a little too harshly, slightly bending it while gritting his teeth.

"That is none of your business Peter."

The older werewolf could sense the dread coming from the human, his attention of the way his nephew lightly touched his hand in a soothing way. The way Percy nervously looked between the four of them, most likely in the dark about what they were.
He hadn't noticed the bend of Stiles' fork, his eyes focused on the now even darker brown one that seemed to stare into his soul harshly. He couldn't help but feel completely guilty for asking such a question to the newcomer.