”Stop it,” Peter snapped from between clenched teeth.
Isaac looked up from the book he was reading. Peter was staring daggers at Stiles across the big table filled with maps, books, notepads, and the red stringy candies Stiles liked to chew when working. Right now, though, Stiles was sitting on a chair, tapping his fingers on the table, and jingling his leg in a frenzied rhythm. It was annoying as hell and Isaac could only imagine how Peter, a born wolf, must feel.
Stiles looked up with wide eyes and blinked. ”Um,” he said.
”We’re supposed to be working,” Peter purred. It was the kind of voice that seemed polite on the surface but was full menace underneath, especially when he leaned his hands on the table and loomed. ”But I can’t concentrate because you’re making noise. All. The. Time.”
”I have ADHD,” Stiles snapped back.
”I don’t care,” Peter said and turned back to the books.
”Dickhead,” Stiles muttered, with the full knowledge that Peter could hear him.
Isaac eyed them warily but it seemed the short flare of animosity had settled down, at least for now, and he let out a careful breath.
They’d been left behind when the rest of the pack had gone on a scouting mission; Stiles on the pretense of being a fragile, squishy human and Peter because, well, he was Peter. Isaac was still nursing his shattered femur and was on a forced leave, although he’d rather be anywhere but here. Being near Peter was unnerving at any given time but being near Peter while Stiles was needling him was an explosion waiting to happen.
Isaac really didn’t know if Stiles was an adrenaline junkie or if he had an actual death wish but he somehow always managed to get on Peter’s nerves. The resulting blowout was usually bad enough to clear the premises.
And Isaac just wanted some peace and quiet for a change.
”Seriously, do I have to pin you down to keep you quiet?”
Isaac nearly whimpered at the threat rolling in waves from Peter’s voice and flattened himself against the couch cushions. At the table, Stiles stood frozen as Peter cocked his head and narrowed his eyes and, shit, this was bad.
”Hmm…” Peter hummed and kept looking at Stiles as he slowly prowled around the table and stopped way too close.
Isaac swallowed. He was still a novice when it came to interpreting scents but if he guessed right, he really, really didn’t want to know what made the de-zombified Peter tick because, eww.
”Would you like that, Stiles?” Peter purred and leaned slightly forward to whisper in his ear. ”Would you like me to hold you down so that you couldn’t move unless I let you? I could keep you pinned with one hand and use the other to do what I wanted. How about I—”
”Fuck you guys, that’s just nasty,” Isaac snarled and stomped out, slamming the door behind him.
”You think he’ll be back any time soon?” Stiles asked.
Peter pursed his lips and shook his head. ”No. He smelled freaked out and disgusted.”
Stiles grinned and stretched his hands over his head, enjoying the way Peter’s eyes tracked the line of his neck. ”So, what was this talk about pinning me down?”
Peter’s eyes narrowed. ”Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea,” he purred.
Good thing Stiles liked surprises.