"Holy shit..." He can't believe it, he's marked Peter. As his. It makes his pulse race and heat rush through him at the implication that he could do it again. And again. Mark up Peter the way the werewolf has done to him.

Peter's words send a pleasant thrill through him. They are each others now, now that Stiles has marked Peter.

Stiles surges forward then, mouth pressing to Peter's excitedly, hungrily, and can't help the way his fingers find the mark on Peter's neck. Where Stiles had claimed him.