The New Boy

”Derek! Get your furry ass here right now or I swear to god I’ll skin you!” Cora screamed on top of her lungs. Derek had stolen her underwear—again—and was now merrily running around the yard, mouth full of pink lace. 

”Uh,” someone said from behind her.

She swirled around to see a young guy with messy hair, big brown eyes, and a slightly confused expression.

”Yeah?” she snapped.

”Um, is Peter around?”

Cora waved her hand vaguely and said, ”He’s upstairs, I think.”

”Okay,” the guy said. ”I’ll just…go then.”

”You do that,” Cora muttered, planning an attack. Derek had her favorite underwear and she needed them for tonight. 

After a chase, a roll around the yard, and some furious wrestling, Cora returned inside, victoriously holding her soiled underwear, and saw the guy brewing coffee on Peter’s fancy-ass coffee maker. The one Peter never allowed anyone else touch.

And now the guy was practically fondling it.

He didn’t see her so Cora leaned on the door frame and waited until he’d poured himself a cup.

”So, you’re Peter’s latest conquest?” she asked and grinned as the guy startled and flailed, spilling coffee on himself.

”Gaah!” he exclaimed. ”Why are you all like that?”

”Like what?”

The guy rolled his eyes. ”Creepy stalkers? Why do you sneak on people like that anyway?”

Cora shrugged. ”Because it’s fun. So, you are Peter’s latest conquest?”

”No, he’s not,” Peter said from behind her and smirked when she jumped. ”Cora, meet Stiles. I’m tutoring him in chess. Stiles, meet my niece Cora. The only tolerable one of my sister’s offsprings.”

Stiles snorted and poured Peter a cup of coffee.

”Oh…chess. Right,” Cora murmured, watching the interaction. ”That’s what you’re calling it now?”

Peter sipped his coffee and gave her a flat look. ”Why are you here instead of tormenting your brother?”

”Because Derek’s being a bore?”

For some reason, Stiles choked on his coffee. Peter gave him a worried glance and patted his back while he raised a brow at Cora. 

Cora threw her hands in the air, soiled underwear and all. ”Fine! I’ll go so that you lovebirds can be alone.”

”We’re not—” Stiles started but Peter interrupted him with a pointed, ”Goodbye, Cora.”

Fine. She could take a hint.

A couple of weeks later, she saw Stiles leafing through some old comics at a second-hand store. She was about to go and poke him to see how high he’d jump when Peter sauntered over. After a short conversation, he paid for Stiles’s comics and they left together.

Not Peter’s newest conquest, right.

”Derek puked in my car, can I borrow yours?” Cora asked as she stomped in.

Peter didn’t raise his gaze from the chess board. ”You know, normal people knock before entering the house, or at least say ’hello.’”

Cora rolled her eyes at his back. ”Hello, Uncle Peter, can I borrow your car?”

”Why did your brother puke in your car?” Stiles asked, leaning his chin on his hand.

Cora frowned. ”What? No, I’m talking about my dog.”

Stiles blinked and asked, slowly, ”You named your dog after your brother?”

”Yeah,” Cora grinned. ”And it pisses him off.”

”So…when we first met and you were screaming murder at Derek ruining your underwear, you were screaming at your dog?”

Cora paused to think for a moment and, okay, the time Stiles tried to inhale his coffee made a lot more sense now.

Peter sighed and moved a piece, earning a groan from Stiles. ”Checkmate, Stiles. You had an opening five moves ago and you missed it.” He got up and gave a warning glance at Cora. ”I’ll get the keys. Be nice.”

Cora batted her lashes and smiled sweetly. ”Why, I always am.”

She waited about seven seconds before turning to Stiles who was staring daggers at the chess board. ”So. You and my uncle.”

”So, me and Peter…what?” Stiles asked, still staring at the offending game.

She shrugged. ”You seem like a nice guy, Stiles. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

Slowly, Stiles raised his head and frowned. ”And what makes you think I’d get hurt?”

”Well—”

”Cora, the trashcan you call your car is blocking the driveway,” Peter interrupted, leaning on the door frame and jingling his car keys in his hand. ”You need to move it if you want to borrow my car.”

She groaned and walked up to him. ”Thanks,” she said and reached out her hand to grab the keys, but Peter lifted his hand up to hold them out of her reach and pointed at the door.

After moving her own car out of the way, Cora walked to Peter’s car, a silver beauty in pristine condition, and trailed her fingers along the sleek lines of its side. She knew she was special—Peter didn’t let anyone else sit behind the wheel even when the car was parked.

She was about to open the driver’s door when Peter slapped his hand on the frame.

”What were you doing back there?” he asked mildly, nodding his head towards the house. ”And don’t give me that innocent look.”

She huffed out a breath. ”Isn’t he a bit young?”

”For playing chess? I didn’t know the game had an age limit.”

She gave him a flat look. ”Peter, please. I mean, I get it why you like Stiles: He’s tall and lanky with a pretty mouth and even prettier eyes, and just enough hair to grab a good hold. He’s exactly your type!”

The reason she knew was due to an unfortunate weekend she, Laura, and Derek had spent at Peter’s place. Peter had decided to get them all three hammered, just to piss Talia off. Laura and Derek had been surprisingly light-weight, and Cora had ended up having entertaining albeit more than a little disturbing heart-to-heart with his uncle. Hence the knowledge of what his uncle found attractive and why. 

”Is he now,” Peter said, his tone pleasantly even.

”Hey,” Cora said and poked his chest. ”You told me yourself, remember?” 

”You forgot one crucial thing, though,” Peter said.

”Really?”

”Yes. He isn’t willing.”

Cora snorted. ”Like it’s never stopped you before. You go after those you want and you fuck everything that moves.”

Something in Peter changed. He didn’t move but he seemed to loom over her and his eyes got a narrowed, intense look. Cora swallowed and flattened herself against the car, feeling trapped. Peter was an unpredictable man but she’d never been afraid of him, never understood why his colleagues and clients called him The Wolf. 

Until now.

”Dear girl,” Peter said in a quiet, almost purring tone. ”I might fuck everything that moves but even I have standards. One of those is explicit consent. You of all people should know what I think of rapists.”

”I didn’t—”

”Mean it like that?” Peter interrupted. ”Perhaps you should think before you speak, then.” 

He took a step back and despite herself, Cora let out a long breath. She tilted her head and gave Peter a curious look. 

”So, if it’s not sex, why?”

”Do you have any idea what it’s like to be me?” Peter asked. ”Most people I interact with are either family or after my money, my expertise, or my dick. Stiles is none of these.” He shook his head. ”He’s extremely entertaining, highly intelligent, has absolutely no brain to mouth filter, and he’s not afraid of me. Do you have any idea how rare that is?”

She raised a brow. ”Egotistical, much?”

”More like a realist,” Peter said. ”Stiles is asexual and aromantic,” he added more softly. ”He isn’t interested in anyone like that.” 

”And you just think it’s okay to share?”

Peter gave him a dry look. ”He gave me permission to tell you. And believe it or not, it’s actually quite refreshing to just spend time with someone sans seduction plans. I probably should try it more often.”

Something about him was lighter in a way, more relaxed. 

Huh. 

Interesting. 

Perhaps Peter had been more lonely than she’d ever guessed. 

”So…you’re friends?” she asked, just to be sure.

Peter gave her an amused smile. ”Yes. We’re friends, that’s all.”

She let out a considering noise, thinking about how to worm to Stiles’s good side. It never hurt to have more allies: she was yet to out-prank her uncle and Stiles might be a worthy addition to her plans. Now, if only she could figure out how to—

Peter snorted. ”Whatever you’re thinking, good luck trying. Stiles has managed to surprise me a couple of times already.” He tossed her the keys and she caught them one-handed. ”Also, if that mutt of yours throws up in my car, you’ll clean up my house for the next two months.”

”Yeah, yeah,” she muttered and waved him away.

She had planning to do.