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“I can’t take it anymore.” Cora whispered quietly; eyes fixed on the couple just a few steps away from them.
“I feel a bit sick.” Laura agreed, equally unable to tear her gaze away. It was like watching a train crash, you just couldn’t look anywhere else. “Do you feel a bit sick?”
“Shush.” Someone gently hit her over the head before giving her sister a soft slap too. “Leave your uncle alone, they’re cute.” It was their mother, who had joined them in the living room.
“Cute?” Cora shuddered. “It’s disgustingly sappy. They’ve been going at it for half an hour.”
Had it only been an hour? Laura felt as if she had spent hours watching her uncle and Stiles lounge on the deck, the human’s head bedded on her uncle’s chest, eyes closed and lips slack, while Peter read poems to him. Love poems.
He had a thick leatherbound book in his hands with golden engravings on the cover and from what they could hear the poems were a few centuries old. It was probably antique and worth a small fortune. The worst part: Peter didn’t read them randomly to Stiles. Sometimes, he wouldn’t just turn one page, but multiple until he had found another poem that he deemed worthy and appropriate for the situation.
It was disgustingly romantic, especially since the sun had already vanished behind the horizon and the sky was filled with the last red and yellow glow of the sunset and the first traces of the darkness of night, a couple of stars already shining down on them.
“They’re in love.” Their mother defended the younger alpha, a fond smile on her face.
“Did Dad ever read you love poems?” Laura asked, curiously, which was met with laughter from her father, who was sitting on the couch, watching sports.
“Your mother would’ve hit me over the head with the poetry book to knock some sense into me.” He snorted, ignoring the glare he got from Talia. “Why didn’t you read me love poems, Lia?” Evan asked instead, a boyish grin on his face.
Laura sighed. Not only did they have to witness uncle Peter being sappy, now they were exposed to their parents’ bickering foreplay. She couldn’t decide which was worse.
Through the glass, she could see how Peter raised Stiles’ hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it gently, before reading the next poem. As ridiculously romantic as it was, a small part of her wanted Jordan to do the same.
She shook her head. No, she wasn’t a hopeless romantic, she didn’t want such a cheesy relationship. Or did she? Peter was messing with her head again.
“It’s kinda cute, though.” Cora sighed, listening attentively to Peter reading ‘I Love Thee’ by Thomas Hood. His deep voice caressed every word, tasting it in his mouth before speaking it. He gave every syllable meaning, added emotion to every verse until it lulled all those around him in.
Laura sighed as well, her eyes slipping close. What a wonderful poem and what a wonderful way to read it. She envied Stiles. Envied the relationship they had. Her mind briefly wandered to Derek and Isaac…. Did her brother read the young beta poems as well? Derek was romantic enough to do it and so obsessed with literature that he could recite Romeo and Juliet by heart.
“It’s very romantic.” Talia agreed and Laura’s eyes snapped open when she noticed the fondness in her mother’s voice. She saw how her father frowned in disbelief, before pulling his phone out, muttering under his breath about buying her a collection of love poems as well, because he wouldn’t give Peter the opportunity to mock them about the romance being dead in their marriage. Not on their anniversary.
Laura snorted and turned away from the window. She wanted to call Jordan and that was a great opportunity to escape her parents’ bickering. She only had to figure out a subtle way of hinting at the fact that she wanted him to read her love poems as well. Maybe she should ask Peter about help in that regard. If there was anyone who could get people to do things without them realising that it wasn’t their own idea, it was him.
-
After a long call with Jordan, where she had hinted at the romantic ambience of it all and ‘jokingly’ mentioned how some girls like to have poetry read to them – a hint Jordan hadn’t gotten-, a lovely dinner with Cora, Derek and Isaac at a nearby restaurant and a good night’s sleep thanks to some wolfsbane laced wine, Laura was ready to face her uncle and his mate again.
She was prepared for battle, nothing would be able to faze her, she was ready to face the day and whatever her uncle and Stiles had planned today. She was a strong, independent werewolf, she was an adult, she could handle everything the two threw at her.
Over the course of her life, she had been subjected to countless uncomfortable situations involving her uncle, there was nothing she couldn’t handle.
With that mindset, she grabbed herself a cup of coffee, stepped on the patio to enjoy the warmth of the morning sun and breathed the salty air. The steady song of the ocean calmed her, easing the tension in her shoulders and she took a sip of her coffee with a satisfied sigh.
When she opened her eyes, she took a minute to admire the glittering waves, the way the salty water was washed ashore. The beach was empty despite it being 10 in the morning, which was since her family owned this part of the beach. The public beaches were already crowded at this time of the day.
There were only a few seagulls, some shells, Peter in a speedo, the long grass growing on the dunes and-
Laura chocked on her coffee and promptly snorted it out of her nose in shock. Coughing, she reached for the railing that fenced off the patio. It took her a minute to remember how breathing worked and after she had wiped off the coffee that was dripping out of her nose and the tears that had gathered in her eyes, she blinked thrice and looked back at the spot where she had imagined…
No, there he was.
Her uncle, split naked except for a scandalously small speedo, lounging on a blanket. He was leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Wow.
Across from him was Stiles, once again clad in broad shorts and a T-Shirt with a comically large sun hat on his head that Peter had bought him when his pale, freckled nose had started turning pink, holding something in his hands. Laura didn’t want to know but at the same time she really, really wanted to know what those two were up to. Because she still remembered the one time Peter had had a long and tedious conversation about how uncomfortable speedos were, with an ex at aunt Heather’s 50s birthday party.
Ignoring the coffee stain on her top, she climbed down the stairs towards the beach and crossed the soft sand until she was only a few steps behind Stiles.
“Good morning, Laura.” Peter mumbled, eyes closed and face relaxed.
Stiles tilted his head back until his hat almost slipped off and grinned goofily. “Hey, Laur. Wanna join us?” He asked, a slightly manic glint in his eyes.
“Doing what?” She asked, apprehensively and thanked whatever deities there were that she had abandoned her coffee, because she would’ve promptly chocked on it again. Now she knew what they were doing and she had to admit, Stiles was artistically talented.
On the sketchpad in his hands was a half-finished but already very flattering drawing of her uncle in lacking the speedo he was currently wearing. Instead Stiles had drawn a… very flattering if slightly too big copy of his dick. Laura knew how much Peter was packing, they were wolves, nudity wasn’t a problem for them, meaning she also knew that Peter’s dick didn’t have the very creative bulge Stiles had added to it. She would never be able to forget this moment for the rest of her life, no matter how hard she tried. It also meant she would never be able to watch Titanic again….
“Lovely and I’d be eager to join,” She mumbled faintly “but I left my coffee at the house.” It was a lame excuse and she knew that Peter could hear the half lie, but Stiles, poor, obvious human he was, simply smiled and nodded.
“Too bad. Maybe next time.” He brushed a strand of hair out of his face, making the bracelet reflect the light. It had been a gift from Peter, a little souvenir to remember their holiday by and Stiles hadn’t taken it off ever since Peter had given it to him, three days ago.
“Laura, Stiles and I will be leaving in an hour and return after dinner. You and Cora will have to order something or cook for yourselves.” Her uncle informed her, as she was already walking back towards the house.
Dammit. No food from Stiles… but they still had two more days until they would drive back home… enough time for her to bully him into cooking for them at least one more time.
Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask….
She asked anyways: “What will you be doing?”
“Collecting shells.” Stiles beamed. “I always collect some when I’m at a beach and my lovely darling bought me a new jar after my last one filled up. I’m also searching for a Megalodon tooth, maybe I’ll find one today.”
Collecting shells? Why was her uncle’s relationship so wholesome? And how did Stiles get Peter to do all of these things? What kind of blackmail did he have on Peter?
Pondering those questions, she returned to the house, only to find that her coffee had gone cold.
-
“Laura, come quick.”
Laura sighed, closing the door behind her. She had only just returned from a shopping trip in town with Derek, where they had spent some quality sibling time since Cora wanted to facetime her boyfriend instead. She was not ready to deal with whatever Peter and Stiles were doing now.
“What is it?” She muttered, throwing down her shopping bags to join her sister.
Cora was sitting on an armchair, watching Stiles and Peter on the patio. Her uncle was laying on his front on one of the stretchers, head pillowed on his crossed arms, while Stiles sat on his hips. The human had a bottle of sunscreen in his hands, applying it to Peter’s back.
“And?” There was nothing really noteworthy happening.
“Look!” Cora insisted.
Laura did and frowned a little when she saw that instead of applying the sunscreen, Stiles was using it to draw symbols on Peter’s back.
“They’re playing a guessing game. Stiles writes on Peter’s back and Peter has to guess what he’s writing.” Her little sister explained.
“And? Who’s winning?” Usually, she’d bet her money on Peter, but Stiles was smart enough to rival her uncle.
“Peter. Because every second round Stiles writes I love you or I want to marry you.”
Of course.
“I’m leaving.” Laura simply muttered and barely took the time to put her shopping bags into her room, before she fled again. There was a lovely museum in town, maybe she could spend a few hours there, just to escape the sappy atmosphere at the house for a while. Otherwise, she’d probably throw up sooner rather than later.
-
As much as Laura loved spending time at her parents’ beach house, she was relieved when their holiday came to an end. Being subjected to her parents, her brother and her uncle being all lovely dovely while she missed her new boyfriend was only bearable for so long.
So when the final day rolled around, she breathed a sigh of relief. She had gotten up early to catch the last sunrise at the ocean and had cuddled herself into a blanket in one of the chairs on the patio. It was still fresh outside, but she liked the slightly chilly breeze and welcome the clean air.
She was nibbling on an apple, lost in thought as she watched the sea gulls above her and the waves stretching towards the horizon. What a beautiful day. Everybody else was still asleep, she was undisturbed and could soak in the peace of the world before the rest of the family woke up.
“Morning, Laura.” A voice mumbled behind her and she almost dropped her apple.
It was Peter. He stood behind her in shorts and a smart shirt, his feet sandy and his curls tousled. Had he been at the beach? At this time of the day?
“Morning, Uncle Peter.” She answered and hummed when he kissed the crown of her hair. She cherished these small tokens of affection, which he rarely showed towards her. It meant that their relationship was slowly being repaired and he tolerated her presence more. “What were you doing?”
“Hiding Megalodon teeth.” He replied, dusting off the sand on his hands. “Stiles hasn’t found any yet, so I ordered some online and placed them on the beach. He should be able to find them when we take a stroll at the beach before we leave.”
She giggled.
“You’re so whipped, Uncle Peter.” Laura teased, nibbling on her apple with a grin. He really was, horribly whipped and it was incredibly amusing.
Her uncle arched one eyebrow at her and scoffed.
“I’m happy if all he wants is the tooth of an extinct shark species. That I can buy online, but do you know how hard it is to find a mermaid that’s willing to shift in front of you, allows your little human to touch her tail and gives him a mermaids kiss so he can hold his breath longer?” He snorted, holding his head high.
Laura almost dropped her apple. What? Mermaids? What on earth was he talking about?
“Wait, mermaids are real?” He had to be messing with her. There was simply no way mermaids existed. Laura would know, she was a werewolf after all.
The alpha stared at her with disbelief written across his sly face. “Obviously, how can you not know? You’re a shifter, Laura.”
Her cheeks burnt bright red, and Laura scowled to hide her bashfulness. This was why it was always a bad idea to talk with Peter about literally anything. He simply knew everything, and she knew how much pleasure he got from being the smartest person in the room. Quickly, she tried to cover up her embarrassment by steering the conversation towards him again.
“How do you know?!” She asked instead, jutting out her chin. How on earth could Peter know about mermaids? Had he dated one? Perhaps fought one even? Both were equally likely scenarios. She wouldn’t put it past him to get involved in some dramatic mer-people war that led to him being crowned honorary prince of Atlantis or something. This was Peter they were talking about after all, she’d bet the family fortune that he had required some sort of nobility title, whether that was mermaid prince or pixie knight.
Peter sighed, as if he was talking to a toddler. “The fairies introduced me to the one living in the preserve when I was a child.” He explained then, but Laura didn’t have time to be astonished by the fact that there were fairies living in the preserve, because he already continued talking: “Sadly she moved a few years ago, so I needed to find a new mermaid. But the fairies helped me, they still owed me a favour for the time I took in the injured unicorn foal anyways.”
Unicorns? More specifically unicorn foals?
“It really came handy, considering that Meereena’s hippocampus’ foal had been injured by a fisher net a few days prior and she wasn’t sure if she was taking proper care of it.” Peter picked on one of his nails, to presumably get rid of some damp sand.
So her uncle was just going around saving unicorn foals and giving mermaids advice on how to care for baby hippocampi. Just another day in the life of Peter Hale. Alright then.
“I think I need to lay down for another hour or two.” She mumbled, because she could feel an existential crisis coming and she really needed to adjust to the fact that Stiles had been kissed by a mermaid.
Peter nodded in agreement. “You do look a bit pale, dear.” He pointed out and gently petted her hair, before he strolled into the house, towards his and Stiles’ bedroom. “Get some rest, if you feel worse don’t hesitate to call for me.”
“Will do.” Laura muttered faintly. She really needed to lay down and readjust her world view… and try to find the fairies as soon as she was home again. If there was any chance that unicorns were strolling through the preserve, she’d find one way or another to admire them.
She got out of her chair, abandoning her blanket and apple, and walked towards her own room. She had already reached the door, when she turned around and barged into Cora’s instead. Her sister woke up with a gasp and glowing eyes, ready to shout at Laura like the teenage brat she was.
“What the f-“
“Did you know that Stiles was kissed by a mermaid? And that Peter takes care of injured unicorn foals in his spare time?” She interrupted Cora, having no patience for grumpy teenagers right now.
Her sister’s mouth dropped open and she rubbed a hand over her face. “Wait, what?”
“You heard me. Peter takes care of injured mystical creatures in his spare time and Stiles has been kissed by a mermaid.” Laura repeated, watching how her sister’s world view shifted just like her own had. At least she wasn’t alone in this anymore.
“Holy shit.” Cora breathed and Laura nodded in agreement.
Holy shit indeed.
“I can’t believe I’ve found 5 teeth.” Stiles beamed, holding up his treasures, which he stored in a little red plastic bucket.
Peter smiled, touched by his mate’s happiness. There was still a sixth tooth waiting for them, about twenty feet away and he took great care to steer Stiles towards it without the human noticing. It was as easy as one could imagine because Stiles was, as always, completely oblivious when around Peter.
“You’re a little archaeologist.” Peter complimented and smirked when his little mate beamed with pride. He puffed out his slim chest, resembling a preening peacock for a second.
“I am, aren’t I?” Stiles smirked, beyond flattered. It was adorable.
“Yes, you are, my love.” He mumbled. “You’re-“
Peter froze in his steps. The wind had turned slightly, and the salty breeze carried another scent. Familiar, comforting and tinted with some of his happiest and worst memories. There was still a box in his closet, filled with cosy sweaters and sleek shirts that carried the exact same scent if slightly dulled by dust and age.
He turned his head and glance up towards the dunes, trying to locate the smell. For a moment he almost thought he could see a mop of copper curls out of the corner of his eye, but when he blinked there was nothing. Just sand and grass and a particularly ugly seagull.
“What’s going on? Peter?” Large amber eyes appeared in front of him as nimble fingers cupped his face. “Are you alright?”
Peter shook his head slightly. The scent was gone, where had it come from? And why had it been so… fresh? So alive? He felt a shiver race down his back. For days, he had felt like someone had been watching him from afar and it had started to unsettle him.
Now this… but he didn’t want to worry Stiles.
“I’m fine, I just thought I smelt something familiar.” He explained and gently kissed his mate, before he took his hand so they could continue their stroll.
“Really? What was it?” Curious as always, his love.
“Nothing that matters now.”
It was obvious that Peter was avoiding the questions and the alpha was grateful that Stiles didn’t push further. As inquisitive as the human could be, he knew when to stop. Sometimes at least.
“Alright. But if you want to talk about it, I’ll always listen to you.” Stiles promised, swinging the little red bucket in his hand. “I won’t even talk that mu-“ The young man gasped. “Peter! There’s another one!” He then exclaimed and raced towards the very visible tooth sticking out of the sand.
Peter felt like his heart was about to burst as he watched his mate, taking in his happily glowing cheeks and the spark in his eyes.
Almost involuntarily, he turned back one last time, where he thought he had seen red curls.
There was nothing, just sand and grass.
The hope that had started to blossom in his chest was crushed painfully and he scolded himself for getting ahead of himself. They were both dead, he had mourned them for years. There was no way they would be here. They couldn’t.
But the heart was a foolish thing and despite being crushed, the spark of hope in his heart was impossible to diminish.
“Look at them.” He mumbled softly, watching the couple from afar. “They’re so much in love. And they fit together so well.” There was a bit of moisture in his green eyes. “By the gods, I miss him. I just want to hug him and never let him go.”
“I know.” The wolf took his mate’s hand, kissing the back of it softly. “I miss him too.”
They watched silently as their son listened to his expressive mate, a gentle smile on his face.
“Do you think we made a mistake? All these years ago?”
He hesitated. Did they? Perhaps… perhaps they had been too selfish, too ignorant, too desperate, too scared… “I don’t know.” The shifter mumbled quietly. “It doesn’t matter now. Everything we ever wanted for him has come true. Freedom, happiness, love...”
“Our beautiful little boy.” A tear ran over his mate’s freckled cheek. Carefully, he wiped it away and leaving behind a thin sheen of salty moisture. Suddenly, the wind turned slightly and he quickly pulled his mate down, not a second too early. He barely saw the alpha’s red eyes flicker in their direction, then they were hidden.
His ears picked up the way his son’s heart stopped for just a beat, before it sped up. He could hear how Peter inhaled deeply again, how he took a step towards them in the sand, before he stopped.
Come closer, Peter, just a few more steps… come closer…
He wanted to leave their hiding place. Wanted to run down the dunes, race across the beach, close the distance between them and hug his son. The urge was so strong that he had to slice the palm of his hands out of fear of losing control. The smell of blood was strong, but the wind turned just in time, the ocean breeze hiding their scent.
“What’s going on? Peter?” The young human had distracted the alpha. He listened to their mumbled conversation, smiled about the worry in the babbling voice and breathed a sight of relief when he heard them continue their stroll. Slowly, he rose his head, his eyes immediately focusing on the couple. There was a smile on his son’s face, content and blissful. Peter was happy and to them, that was all that mattered.