Stiles gasps when Peter slams him against the door, pain and excitement surging through him. Warmth explodes through him at the praise Peter gives him.
His hand comes up to wrap fingers around Peter's wrist, but he doesn't pull him away, just holds on. "You can have me," he breathes out, his other hand coming up to press his warm, damp hand against the werewolf's cheek. "You'll always have me." Because Stiles certainly isn't going anywhere.
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His hand comes up to wrap fingers around Peter's wrist, but he doesn't pull him away, just holds on. "You can have me," he breathes out, his other hand coming up to press his warm, damp hand against the werewolf's cheek. "You'll always have me." Because Stiles certainly isn't going anywhere.