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Hierarchy and Autonomy

Chapter 21: Siren's Call

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Stiles gasps as open-air bombards his skin and scents return to his nose. Saltwater pours over his eyes from the locks of hair which spatter his face; surprise having shocked him back to his human state.

 

Peter’s grisly monstrous arms hold him tight and secure as he marches back from the depths to the shore. His snout large and pronounced nuzzles Stiles’ face and compresses every last drop of personal space out of existence.

 

Stiles writhes and lashes against the confinement; but Peter, strong and enlivened by the chase is unshakable. Every forced inch Stiles gains is constricted out of existence not a moment later by Peter’s body. His body is hard against Stiles mirroring the prominent length poking Stiles in his back.

 

Stiles regains his volition and shifts back and forth trying to make it hard to hold him, but Peter is far more adaptable, dexterous, and agile than anything his size has any business being. Stiles scrapes with his claws against Peter’s arms and legs begging for freedom, but none of that grants it to him. Nor does the gnashing of his teeth.

 

Instead, the beast itself gives him his freedom. Just when they reach the shore, and the water no longer laps at Peter’s feet, Stiles feels himself drop onto the wet and squishy sand. He takes off to run, but Peter places a hand on his shoulder. This time however, the massive furred and clawed mitt that had been clamping him in place a moment before is now a perfectly manicured hand.

 

“It’s best we do not replay past events,” Peter says.

 

The simple statement pulls the rage out of Stiles like a snake milker extracting the venom from a snake into a jar. Stiles feels his soul seat itself back into place at his core. “Let’s not,” he sighs, trying to be something he hasn’t been since he was fifteen. Calm.

 

He turns to Peter as the man’s body fades back into itself from the beast he’d been as he’d dragged Stiles kicking and screaming to shore.

 

Here in the bright light of spring, his golden tanned skin, muscles, and kind, if not a bit devious face resembled something out of an ancient myth. He appeared to Stiles not unlike Odysseus returned from the war, ready to love Penelope once more in earnest. For a moment, Stiles indulged the fantasy.

 

His mind carried him to a world where this was the life of his dreams. It carries him to a place where all the miseries that had never occurred and he knew nothing of the ugliness of sexuality or people.

 

Then, Peter’s hand falls away and the spell breaks. The sirens’ call ends. No treasures are found upon the shore.

 

“I apologize for touching you,” Peter says. “It was the best compromise I could force through my instincts.”

 

In a moment of resignation, Stiles chooses not to fight. “You’re forgiven.”

Notes:

Just a short little chapter to round out this day in the fic. a bit out of character for this fic, but I felt like I needed this scene to be it's own. books do this and I can do it too. I'll see you all with what's likely going to be a normal sized chapter which starts the next day a bit sooner than normal I think. Hope you all enjoyed as usual. be well.

XOXO Iru_Naru