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Peter watched as John scrambled out of his chair at the head of the table. The delicate napkin that had been placed on his lap fluttered to the ground and Peter was sure that on any other day, the butler would’ve had a small aneurism about it, but he was so busy pressing his forehead to the white stone floor that he didn’t notice the scrap of lace on the ground.
“Your Majesty.” The Duke said, after clearing his throat and bowed accord to etiquette. Since he wasn’t a commoner but a Duke, he merely had to bow deeply, and not throw himself onto the floor, but Peter still noticed that it still made Stiles cringe. This was precisely what the young incubus had wanted to avoid.
While Melissa was still frozen in place, the young hellhound named Scott jumped to his feet as well and bowed so quickly that his forehead knocked his wine gauntlet over, adding another mess to the already stained tablecloth. He winced and rubbed at the red mark now sprouting on his head, before quickly stammering an “Greetings your imperial majesty!”, which snapped his mother out of her trance with a scandalized look on her face. Addressing anybody but Lucifer himself with ‘your imperial majesty’ was one of the biggest faux pas in hell, but the naïve, honest look on Scott’s face told Peter that the boy had only very little knowledge about the hierarchy of their royalty.
Next to him, Stiles groaned quietly and buried his head in his hands, blocking out the small burst of insanity around them and the glare of his father, that promised that they would have a long talk about this later.
Just when things couldn’t get more awkward, a group of guards burst into the room, holding a pair of shackles and carrying swords, looking ready to pounce on Peter. John made a quick, subtle motion to signal them to abandon whatever plan they had, but it was obvious to everyone, that Peter would have ended up behind bars for an unknown amount of time. Stiles gaped at the sight of the armed demons and levelled his father with a disbelieving stare.
“Dad, did you invite us so you could throw my boyfriend into the dungeons?” He asked, voice outraged and slightly hysterical all at once.
John glanced between his guards, his king and his son, before letting out a long-suffering sight. “Well, since you showed up with our beloved king at your side, I don’t think that’s an option anymore.”
Stiles mouth dropped open while Peter chuckled quietly. This evening was more interesting than he could have anticipated.
-
Ten minutes later, after the butler had finally gotten to his feet again and briefly fainted when he had spotted the spilled wine on the previously flawless tablecloth, they were seated on one of the terraces overlooking the elaborate gardens of his father’s palace. White arches, covered in vines that carried large, soft pink blossoms stretched like a roof over their heads, while the song of a thousand birds filled the warm evening air. The splashing sound of the small stream that flowed through the gardens and pooled into the rather large lake separating the palace from the nearby city, added to the atmosphere.
It didn’t break the suffocating silence that stretched between all five dinner guests though.
Peter watched as Stiles’ eyes flickered nervously between him and his father, occasionally meeting Scott’s curious gaze. The Duke had insisted that Peter take the chair at the head of the table, but he had humbly declined and pointed out that he was here as Stiles’ guest, not as king. That’s why he sat to Stiles’ right instead, one of his hands resting on the incubus’ thigh.
“So…” Stiles started, when the suffocating silence between them became unbearable for the young incubus. “I see you’ve added another greenhouse to the gardens.” He pointed out and the Duke simply hummed in acknowledgement. The incubus winced and began to drum his fingers on the smooth surface of their dining table, trying to somehow lessen his anxiety. Peter raised his hand from Stiles’ thigh and gently covered the incubus’ spindly fingers with his own, interlacing them to ground the nervous demon. He drew soft circles on the back of Stiles’ hand and could hear how his heartbeat slowly decreased and the stench of anxiety lessened.
“I must say that I’m truly impressed by your dutchy, John.” Peter began casually, trying to take the burden of forced small talk from Stiles. And to show his vassal that he didn’t hold a grudge for almost being shackled. “Not only is its beauty remarkable, your leadership has been exceptional and you’re one of the few dukes who didn’t have to deal with any uprisings in over a millennial.”
“Thank you, your high- I mean, Peter.” The Duke cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable addressing Peter so casually and still a little unsure if the Ruler would really just ignore the fact that he had tried to imprison him just minutes ago.
Silence again, just as awkward as before when suddenly, Scott chirped in. Sweet, adorable Scott, who still had a slight mark on his forehead, where he banged it against the golden cup. Peter had grown quite fond of the slightly confused hellhound.
“So, how did you two meet?” He asked cheekily and out of the corner of his eyes, Peter noticed how Stiles flushed bright red. That was probably not what the young incubus had wanted to talk about.
“Well, it was rather amusing.” Peter began and grinned when Stiles groaned in despair. “You see, I was searching for one of my rather unruly subjects, who had started taking an interest in stealing the souls of the truly innocent, to sell them for a much higher price than the regular souls we harvest. He supplied quiet a few higher demons with them, and it caused a bit of tension with heaven.” He explained and raised his golden cup to his lips. The wine was mixed with honey and thus sweet and tangy all at once. An exquisite mixture and clearly only offered to important guests.
“He was known to be… rather tempted by human women and there was a night club he frequently visited. I was at the bar, waiting for him to show up when suddenly, I was hit with a wave of pheromones. It was Stiles. He had mistaken me for a virile human and wanted to make me his meal for the night.” Peter chuckled and John paled. “It’s sufficient to say that I never encountered such a brave demon before, so he had instantly piqued my interest. And when I found out just how special our dear Stiles, I just couldn’t resist him.” He drawled and politely ignored how John buried his face in his left hand. The Duke briefly closed his eyes, sighing resigned, before he opened them again to address Peter.
“I apologize for my son’s behaviour-” John began, looking just minutes away from heart failure, but Peter raised his hand lazily which silenced the Duke immediately.
“Oh, there’s no need for that. I was immediately smitten.” He glanced at Stiles, who was blushing deliciously. Under any other circumstances, it would’ve tempted Peter to pull him into a kiss, but Stiles was nervous enough already and while demons didn’t bother to hide their affections, Peter didn’t want to cause John an aneurysm. The poor Duke already looked slightly shaken and as if he would go into shock at any second.
Scott tilted his head like a confused puppy and glanced between Stiles and Peter. “When did you start dating? I heard a rumour that our king had taken a consort and already allowed him to wear his crown. You’re not cheating on Stiles, are you?” The hellhound’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and while he looked less threatening than Thea -the puppy was still fighting with Peter’s shoelaces underneath the table, but he had little interest to stop her- his protective nature still amused Peter.
“Scott, watch your tongue!” Mellissa scolded her son, who sheepishly scratched the back of his head, having obviously forgotten who he was talking to.
“My lady, please don’t reprimand your son on my behalf. You have clearly raised him well, there aren’t many young demons who would have the bravery to defend their friend’s honour. Especially when they’re facing a king.” He purred and smiled at the Viscountess winningly. His attempts at flattery were a success because a slight flush spread across her pale cheeks and when she looked at her son, her eyes were brimming with pride.
“Regarding the rumours. It was our dear Stiles who recently wore my crown. I had an urgent matter to attend to and decided that it was time to openly stake my claim on Stiles. As my beloved, he is of course now of the same standing as I am and will become my consort once Lucifer has approved of our union.” Peter explained with a brief smile. He knew that their emperor would have no reason to deny Peter his wish, but the Ruler didn’t look forward to his audience with the fallen angel. Lucifer had the terrible habit to tease Peter ruthlessly and liked to poke his nose into other people’s business.
“Wait, you want to make me your consort?” Stiles squeaked and B, who was about to present the first course of their dinner, made a noise that could be mistake for a dying whale and looked like he was about to faint once more at the sheer thought that the incubus would become a Ruler’s consort. He scrambled back into the castle again, still carrying the tray of dishes. Peter could hear the servant snatching a pillow from one of the countless chairs scattered through out the castle and the following muffled scream. He was sure that John had heard it as well, but they both gracefully pretended they hadn’t witnessed the butler’s mental breakdown.
“Stiles, you wore his crown without knowing the intent behind it?” John asked instead, disbelief colouring his voice. “I remember tutoring you extensively on the etiquette and rituals of our society, how could you not know?”
“Well, excuse me for not remembering every bit of ancient demon tradition. Besides, only one Ruler ever married someone. And had them executed shortly after.” Stiles protested.
Ah, yes. Wrath was the only Original Sin known for his cruelty. His kingdom was a dark and horrid place and only few demons still lived under his rule. They were usually just as brutal and hot tempered as Wrath and Peter preferred to keep his distance. The only reason why Lucifer had yet to destroy Wrath was that the ruler was an incredible weapon against heaven and should another Holy War arise, was Wrath one of their best defences. Besides the 4 horsemen of course.
“Executed?” Scott repeated and stared at Peter with suspicion in his big puppy eyes, but the Ruler didn’t take it personally.
“There is no need for worry. I’m not nearly as prone to violence as my brother is and Lucifer has since introduced a law that prevents the execution of one’s spouses.” Peter explained calmly. “And I will ensure that by the time we are wed, our dear Stiles will be familiar with the ceremony and customs.”
“Isn’t there a rule about asking the father of the bride for her hand in marriage first?” Scott asked curiously and Peter gifted him with a small grin.
“There is, but I’m certain that John will approve of our union. In return, I will graciously forget about his attempt to imprison me.” He glanced at the duke, who grimaced slightly.
It was then that Stiles intervened. “Okay can we all please forget about the whole dungeon thing already?” He levelled his father with an arched eyebrow. “It’s not like you had anything else planned, right dad? Like poisoning my boyfriend’s dinner or his wine.”
B, who had gathered himself once more and was about to set the various silver plates covered with a delicious smelling first course on the table, chocked at the sheer mention of serving the king poisoned dishes and when he met Peter’s gaze, his wide eyes were brimming with tears. The poor demon was under the impression that he was just a breath away from being executed. Peter found great delight in the servant’s misery, not just because the scent of fear made his mouth water but also because the butler had clearly been one of the many reasons for Stiles’ lacking self-esteem. He wouldn’t mention the fact that the last execution he had ordered laid back almost a hundred years because he couldn’t stand the way his nephew would radiate disapproval for weeks to come.
“Of course not. I only wanted to reveal his true motives. And Peter wants to make an honest demon out of you, so why would I poison him?” The duke scoffed and gulped down another goblet of wine. Peter ignored the fact that the demon’s heartbeat jumped slightly, giving away the obvious lie. So there had been poison… Peter was almost impressed.
“This is so much worse than I imagined.” Stiles sighed and buried his face in his hands.
-
After two more courses, the awkward small talk had subsided and instead, John and Peter were avidly discussing politics, while Melissa and Scott listened to Stiles describing his experience in the human world in great detail. Peter had spent a couple of decades in the mortal world, but he had never viewed earth and the human race as anything more than ants on a round, spinning colony that his subjects could harvest occasionally for their souls.
The sun had long set but even late at night, the breeze was still warm and the air slightly humid. Some of the nocturnal birds had started to fill the darkness with their soft, delicate voices and from the city of Beacon Hell Peter could hear the noise of a festival or celebration. He had meant it when he had praised John for his dutchy. It was indeed a beautiful place and he made a mental note to reward John. The duke would, of course already, rise in social standing soon, simply due to the fact that his son would become the kingdom’s queen and thus make the duke part of the royal family.
Once even the singing and joyous screaming of the festival was slowly dying down and the lights began to fade in the city below, Peter noticed his incubus’ eyes were starting to drop. He wasn’t the only one, because John, Melissa and Scott watched the young demon yawn with amusement as well.
“I think it’s time we’re on our way.” Peter concluded and raised from his chair fluidly, causing everyone else to jump to their feet as well. He hoped that by the time he and Stiles were wed, his then in laws wouldn’t treat him like their king anymore, but instead as kin. “Thank you for the invitation and the nice evening, John. I appreciate it.”
“Of course. The pleasure is all mine.” John put his golden cup aside and smothered out the wrinkles in his clothes. Then he glanced at his son. “I hope you won’t cause anymore trouble, son.” He added and Stiles gasped in faux offence.
“Dearest father, when have I ever gotten into trouble? Who do you think I am? A demon of mischief? A troublemaker? I am merely an innocent incubus who has never done anything that could be considered trouble.” He said with wide doe eyes, but nobody fell for the innocent expression on his face.
“Whatever you say, son.” The duke sighed but smiled when Stiles’ hugged him. “Just promise me to be careful. I worry enough as it is.”
“You don’t have to, Peter will take care of me.” Stiles chirped, like trusting an Original Sin was a good idea. But he was right, Peter had chosen him as his consort, he would gladly sacrifice his own life to protect the little incubus.
“That’s what I’m worried about.” John muttered under his breath, quiet enough that only Peter could hear him.
The Ruler ignored the comment and instead turned to the Viscountess “My Lady, your company has been a pleasure.” He purred and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand that made her blush. The young hellhound next to her wrinkled her nose, if it was because he was protective of his mother or because he didn’t understand why her cheeks reddened, Peter would never know.
Well, he could find out by reading the young demon’s mind, but this was Stiles’ family and the incubus wouldn’t like Peter using his powers on them.
“It was nice to meet you as well, Scott. I’m glad that Stiles has such reliable and protective friends.” Peter said and watched with amusement as Scott’s expression wavered between a scowl and being pleased for being praised. Eventually, he settled on something that made him look vaguely constipated but was probably supposed to be make him look stern.
“Are you ready, darling?” Peter offered Stiles’ his arm, after his future consort had said his goodbyes as well and teleported them back to earth as soon as the incubus nodded.
The young demon stumbled as they re-appeared in Peter’s bedroom and fell on the mattress with a relived laugh. “That went better than I expected.” He mumbled, slightly buzzed from the honey wine. Peter chuckled when Stiles tried to slip out of his shoes and kneeled down next to the bed to assist the incubus.
If Lucifer could see him know, kneeling before an incubus like a besotted idiot… he could already hear their emperor’s roaring laughter.
“It did indeed. Nobody got arrested, poisoned or thrown into the dungeons.” He agreed and Stiles snorted.
“Yeah, I’m happy my dad likes you, too.” He sighed into the pillow and curled himself up in the duvet as soon as Peter had removed his second shoe.
The Ruler arched one eyebrow because while John certainly respected and perhaps even liked him as a king, the duke certainly didn’t approve of their union. At least not yet. But he wouldn’t tell that Stiles. The young incubus was already nervous enough about their relationship, he didn’t need the additional pressure of worrying that his father wouldn’t support him.
A whine from the door made Peter look away from the bed and when he opened it, V immediately slipped into the bedroom and jumped on the mattress next to Stiles, to curl around the incubus. The flames glowing in the eye sockets of his naked skull dimmed as the beast fell asleep just as Stiles started to snore softly.
With a fond smile Peter ran his hand over Stiles’ head before he took a step back. Black fog clouded his form again as he changed his clothes, before he disappeared out of the bedroom and into a small back alley. The streetlight above him flickered and died, leaving him standing in the dark.
He still had to find the rogue demon stealing innocent souls before heaven could use the opportunity to meddle in hell’s business. Cracking his fingers, he vanished into the shadows, spreading his senses until he located the unruly subject.
As gentle as he was with Stiles, Peter was still an Original Sin and a higher demon. He had no patience for those who disobeyed him and the pesky little crossroad demon stirring trouble would never see the light of day again. That he would make sure off.
Eyes glowing red, he started his hunt.