Barnes stalks over to him, shoulders and jaw squared, every line of him drawn heavy and crisp.
“Just go with it,” he snaps out, and Clint nods automatically and then rocks backwards as Barnes grabs onto his face with both hands and presses a kiss to his idiot mouth that’s too goddamn startled to ease up a little, get a taste.
“What?” he asks, and Barnes rests their foreheads together; it probably looks better from a distance, without the angry eyes.
Barnes doesn’t answer, just kisses him again, and Clint lets instinct take over, tilting his head a little and softening his lips, curving his arm around Barnes’ waist.
“I mean,” he says, breath just a little short, “not that I don’t appreciate -”
Barnes has eased a little, a different kind of intensity in his eyes, and the corner of his mouth quirks into something like a smile before he presses a couple quick blunt kisses to Clint’s mouth rather than listening to him babble. It’s probably a wise choice. Many have made it before.
“Might’ve put my foot in it with the press,” Bucky says. “Help a fella out?”
Clint glances over his shoulder at the camera flashes, the endless telescope lenses pointed their way.
“Just in public, right?” he asks, and Bucky snorts.
“Where else?”
“Right,” Clint says, over the sinking sensation. “Sure.”
Driving home we passed the Silver Wolf Ranch in Texas and all I can think is–after the Wild Hunt Peter leaves Beacon Hills. He takes Chris because if anyone else deserves to get the fuck out of Beacon Hills, it’s Chris.
They don’t really talk about what they’re doing or where they’re going. Sometimes, they talk about what they wanted, before Gerard Argent and his mindless hate destroyed both their lives.
Chris laughs himself sick when Peter admits he wanted to be a cowboy, and Peter realizes its the first time he’s ever heard him laugh.
They find the ranch for sale a few months after they leave California, on one of those days where they drive with no destination in mind. Chris sees it and pulls over and as they stare at the dilapidated barn and overgrown grass, at the live oaks and beautiful sprawling house, they both know–this is what they’ve been looking for.
Neither mentions how odd it is to buy a fucking ranch together, or that this thing they’re doing has suddenly taken on a terrifying sort of permanence.
But then, they don’t talk about the way Peter scent marks Chris, either. They don’t talk about Chris slipping into Peter’s bed, when one of them have a nightmare. They don’t talk about the way arousal simmers between them, deepening as they spend more and more time together.
Chris doesn’t think they need to talk.
Peter has millions, money Stiles badgered his hacker friend into helping Peter retrieve, and he happily sinks it into the ranch, and soon horses and cows spot their green fields. Chris builds an armory in one of the barns and he occassionally will teach a hunter passing through, but always he teaches Allison’s code.
Peter can run, here, shifted, and under the bright moon and Chris’ brighter gaze. He’s happier here and he doesn’t have as many nightmares now and the day Chris hangs the sign, Silver Wof Ranch, at the end of the drive, he knows this is home.
Stiles laughs so hard he can’t breath when he sees it. Derek rolls his eyes and says they’re the most obvious people on earth. Chris shrugs and kisses Peter’s temple and goes back to feeding the horses.
Peter, after he blinks through the shock, shoves Chris into the stall door and kisses him properly, deep and filthy, druggingly slow until Chris is hard and rolling against his thigh in the most distracting way and Stiles is complaining about exhibitionism.
They’re happy. And sometimes, the lost and traumatized supernatural will stumble up to their front door and Peter will roll his eyes before shoving them into the bunkhouse. Chris thinks its adorable, and he loves Peter for giving them a safe space.
Because that’s what it is. It’s a safe space, and they have each other, and that’s all either of them want.
I love the idea that Peter and Chris provide a safe space for traumatized and hurt supernaturals. They probably get a reputation and soon enough packs and other supernatural creatures send their traumatized friends/family/pack to Chris and Peter because they are known to help and are safe to be around.
YES! this!!
The first time it intentionally happens, Stiles calls and is like, hey we’ve got an orphaned kitsune. And Peter kinda grumbles because he still thinks he’s fierce and scary, but Stiles ignores him–he’s married to Derek, he knows better–and a few days later, a scared little girl shows up at the ranch.
Peter spoils her rotten and it takes time, but when she eventually leaves them, a year later, she’s thriving.
And it just. Keeps. Happening.
About two years in, an alpha calls and asks if the ranch will host two packs, meeting to renew alliances. Peter has Stiles ward the place to hell and back and gets all their vulnerable guests to the north end of the property, but he agrees.
And that’s how they end up the go-to neutral ground for interpack meetings. No one, even alphas are willing to cross Peter on his own territory and Chris might be retired but he has a lot to protect these days.
So how long does it take before someone finds a recently orphaned supernatural pup and sends them to Chris and Peter to heal and get better?
Because I can just see who that one pup won’t ever leave again, it’s a big ranch, there’s lots to do, and let’s be real here, Peter and Chris would never just kick someone out.
So the pup stays and grows and once that word gets out, Chris and Peter are also treated like a supernatural orphanage, except no one feels like they are at an orphanage, because Chris and Peter know all the birthdays and fuss like mothers and cuddle and care for all of their strange children.
Her name is Lulu. She’s a three year old born wolf with a massive head of black curls and a shy smile that they don’t see for almost six months. Her parents were killed by hunters and Chris isn’t sure who is holding who back when Peter and he first hear about it.
Later he’ll realize it’s Lulu.
Stiles and Derek bring her to them, a middle of the night drive with Derek curled in the back seat with her shaking in his arms. Peter tells them to be careful because Peter and Chris might have to stay with Lulu, but Derek and Stiles don’t.
She’s like a little ghost at first, never talking and moving silently from room to room. She stays close to Peter and Chris though–they smell like pack, maybe not her pack but pack nonetheless.
Peter holds her through her nightmares and Chris makes her chicken nuggets and kisses her skinned knee, even as it heals before her tears dry up.
And sometimes, Peter holds Chris as he cries because he loves Lulu, he does, but god he misses his baby. Peter holds him and kisses away his tears and promises that Allison wouldn’t hate him for loving another little girl.
She rides in front of Peter on his big horse, and trots behind Chris while he rounds up the sheep, and the first time they hear her giggle is when Brutus, the mutt that Chris brought home, licks her chin.
She never leaves. The first time she calls Peter ‘daddy’ he knows she never will.
They get more, and some they keep, like Lulu. Some go to family they find. A little werejaguar ends up with Stiles and Derek.
(WOULD ALSO KILL FOR VERSION IN WHICH THIS DIALOGUE AND ALL FEELINGS WERE REVERSED.)
stiles buried his head into his pillow, facing the wall. “it’s not safe, y’know. all of this.”
he felt the bed shift beside him. “‘all of this?’”
“you know what i mean. i don’t have to sky write it, or, or spell it out in blood. this—me, i—us.”
he held is breath and waited. the silence stretched out for a long, painful moment, and stiles could feel the agreement in the air, could hear it in the way derek sighed.
but then he felt a nose, slightly cold, nuzzle behind his ear, followed by a faint, soft brush of lips against his neck.
Sterek AU: In a particularly bad battle with the Alphas, the pack almost loses Isaac. Stiles, the only one who sees how hard Derek is taking it, gets stuck driving him home.
“How long?” Deaton asks him once the pack has left the room.
Derek raises his eyebrow in confusion, taking a step forward. “How long what?”
Deaton snorts and points at the window. Derek looks outside and sees Stiles and Scott getting inside the jeep.
“I might not know you like that, but it’s unbelievably obvious, you know.”
And just like that he understands.
“It’s none of your bussines.” he replies, giving a hard glance at his direction before turning back to leave.
“You know he’ll realize eventually, he’s a smart kid,” he hears Deaton say. “Imagine his reaction when he knows you didn’t tell him.”
“And tell him exactly what?” he knows he’s playing a fool in front of the Vet, but it’s not exactly a topic he talks about, less with someone he doesn’t trust.
“That he’s your mate. You might pretend you don’t know, but it’s obvious at least to me that you’ve known for a while now so, how long?”
He sighs and walks to the exit, stopping in his track before he steps outside, tilting his head to the side and responding-
theproblemwithstardust 