Do You Want the Bite?

"Since you've helped me, I'm going to give you something in return... Do you want the bite?"

Stiles blinked in surprise, his eyes shooting up from the cold concrete to the werewolf, slightly widening as his mouth parted open. Did he... Did he what? For a moment he couldn't fully comprehend what Peter had said. His brain had a minor stroke and flushed the words out one ear. He must have heard wrong... That couldn't be right. "What...?"

Peter almost rolled his eyes. Was the kid somewhat deaf or was he just being annoying on purpose? He'd be patient and let the question sink in, since after all it was for life. If Stiles wanted the bite, he'd made a lifelong decision; there was no going back after, just like Scott was learning. He repeated, "Do you want the bite?"

Stiles just stared at the older man, mouth open, eyes slightly wide, heart beating fast. His palms had started to sweat and he could feel his body becoming uneasy. As if he wasn't enough already, this just added to his overall panic. He couldn't respond, not knowing what to say, because honestly he didn't know. Did he? Scott had become fast, strong, confident, attractive to girls, not to mention his amazing new skills on the lacrosse field, and Stiles would love to have all of those things, but at the same time, did he want to struggle to contain himself... Did he want to have to be locked up every full moon, afraid he'd hurt or possibly kill somebody? Then again, if he learned to control it...

"If it doesn't kill you -and it could-, you'll become like us." Peter continued calmly. He wasn't selling the idea exactly, he was just giving Stiles a choice. Since the teen had helped him, whether it had been through force or not, he was going to be kind enough to help the kid out, because honestly, the amount of werewolves Stiles was around, and how his life had changed now because of Scott being bitten, the kid would probably be dead soon anyway, so why not offer the poor sap a way out?

"Like you..." Stiles repeated in a murmur, still completely unsure what to say. He knew what Peter was saying but he was going through it all in his head. Scenarios were flying everywhere; he'd be a great lacrosse player, he could possibly even impress Lydia and then who knows what could happen, but Scott had told him about his struggled with Allison and how being around her both helped but didn't. Stiles had no idea what to do. He blinked furiously as he tried to come to some conclusion. He wanted it... No he didn't! But did he? Would Scott be mad? Without a doubt, but would he regret it? Probably... Maybe.

This time Peter couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Yes, a werewolf. Would you like me to draw you a picture?" The kid was getting on his nerves. There he was being all thoughtful, and all he was getting was silence and stupid comments. It was either a yes or a no, and if Stiles didn't say either, Peter decided he'd take that a yes. He could hear the boy's heartbeat, he knew Stiles was trying to decide in his head, thinking of the negative and positives, if he could do this after everything that had happened after Scott had been bitten. Well, why not help him out a bit. The wolf tilted his head and stepped closer to the boy, being able to not only see but smell the nerve sweats, dampening that pale forehead, and the light shakes of the boys skinny hands at his sides. "That first night in the woods I took Scott because I needed a new pack, it could've easily been you. You'd be every bit as powerful as him," his voice was smooth and almost gentle, his eyes fixated on the anxiety ridden boy in front of him, who clearly was not having an easy time making up his mind. "No more standing by his side watching him become stronger and quicker, more popular, watching him get the girl."

Stiles swallowed the thick lump in his throat as Peter spoke, all of it was true, despite the fact he knew Peter was trying to be convincing, it was all true. The young boy looked away, his hands curling and uncurling as he only became more and more stressed. He hated the fact Peter could hear his heart was probably going crazy right now, but how was anyone supposed to act in such a situation? He was being offered a whole new life, but he was afraid of what the consequences would be, what would become of him.

"You'd be equals."

Stiles glanced back at Peter at the words, not noticing the corner of Peter's lips quirk up into a small grin.

"Maybe more..."

Before Stiles could even begin to add more thoughts to his already racing brain, he was watching his arm was being raised slowly as Peter positioned the boys wrist by his face, which became dangerously close to his mouth as he asked a last time, "Yes or no?"

The already hard beating of the teens heart only increased, now thudding, as his breathing slightly heavied and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His mouth became dry and his large undecided eyes darted back and forth from Peter's opening mouth to his small wrist. He couldn't speak, couldn't think, his mind crashed like an old computer and his body became rigid. Peter only waited a moment, his eyes flickering over Stiles' even paler than usual complexion, before sharp fangs dripping with saliva retracted from where normal human teeth had been a moment ago, and inched over to the human's arm he was gripping. There was a perfect spot of pale, smooth skin just awaiting that bite. Without giving Stiles much notice, his fangs lodged into the boys soft skin, blood immediately oozing out from the small holes made by the razor sharp werewolf fangs. The pain seemed to click something on in Stiles' brain then, causing him to gasp and yank his arm bank, which probably wasn't a good idea since pulling his arm away caused Peter's fangs to tear a little more at the already little holes made, but that wasn't much of the teens concern at that moment. He grasped his now bleeding wrist in his other hand and stared down at it in disbelief. It had happened.. Peter had bitten him.

The Alpha werewolf stared blankly at the young boy for a moment before his lips turned up and a slimy tongue left his mouth to lick up the droplets of blood on his lips and fangs, the sharp edges disappearing once his tongue slithered over them and lapped up the blood. He was amused by Stiles' shock. What had he expected to happen? The only thing left now was to get over it, if he survived, of course. "Welcome to our world, Stiles." He whispered with a chuckle, before turning around and beginning to walk away, leaving Stiles and his panic alone.

Stiles jerked his head up, mouth now wide open, as were his eyes, which quickly scanned the area where Peter had stood moments ago, but was now nowhere in sight. He exhaled a deep, shaky breath before dropping his eyes back to his wrist, watching small droplets of blood slide down from the holes, over the curve of his wrist, and to the solid concrete ground. He wanted to scream, to cry, to do something. But he was stuck; frozen, having no idea what to do or think about the impact this was now going to have on his life. How would he tell Scott? What would he say, how would he... There were so many unanswered questions that he really didn't want to find out the answers to. There he stood, in the all too quiet, cold parking garage, alone with his shaking form, and a terrible headache beginning.