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“Lilith, the original woman, is often considered the most famous succubus. She became one of the first demons after leaving the Garden of Eden and having sex with the Archangel Samael. The mistresses of Samael are thought to be the first succubi.”
Peter idly watched his Cryptozoology Professor discuss the origins of Incubi and Succubi. He’d taken the class because he’d thought it would be a laugh. Most of the other students had taken the class for an easy grade, or a unit filler. Peter had never expected the Professor, though. He was energetic, sarcastic and enthusiastic about his subject. Not only that, but more often than not, he was also right.
Hadn’t that been a shock for the young werewolf. Instead of laughing at the naive state of humans, but instead he was actually learning.
Professor Stiles Stilinski didn’t have the same hesitation as the adults in his pack, he didn’t lighten what he was telling the class. Why should he? Everyone except Peter assumed it was fake, and those paying the most attention were in Creative Writing courses. Peter had taken a liking to the man instantly, and the liking had only grown when Peter had been able to show up Talia with something he’d learned.
He’d taken to flirting with the Professor whenever he had the chance. His friends had laughed at him, and at least a few people in the class were more interested in seeing how far he could push the teacher than the actual lessons. However, Stiles just seemed amused. He’d smirk and wave Peter off with a laugh and a blatant comment about the age difference.
“Incubi and succubi are often considered to be related to sirens and vampires, due to their ‘thrall’. The power they can hold over humans. Thrall is most commonly described as a form of ‘mind control’, but is often more a manipulation of thoughts or feelings already present, hence why incubi and succubi change to a form more attractive to their victim. A sirens thrall, obviously, comes through in its song, whereas vampires are typically shown to require eye contact, the oth-”
“Most vampire lore doesn’t mention thrall,” Peter offered loudly, grabbing the opportunity. Vampires did have some thrall power, but only the really powerful ones. Stiles just raised an eyebrow at him.
“Well, not all myths are going to be verified by every source.” he pointed out with a raised eyebrow, “There are also stories that suggest if you throw a hand full of rice at a vampire they’ll have to stop and count every grain. Now, the other similarity between the incubi and vampires is their need to feed from humans. While vampires feed on blood the incubi are thought to feed on the ‘energy’, ‘potential’, or ‘life’, that sex provides. This is…”
“I’ll let you feed on my life,” Peter suggested with a leer.
“Interestingly incubi and succubi tended more towards adults,” Stiles countered, smirking back at him. “It’s been suggested that a large part of that idea, is simply because many people used the excuse of a demon seducing them when they were unfaithful. As usual stories of these creatures vary between cultures.”
Peter jotted down notes idly as he listened, debating whether or not he could get away with approaching the Professor after class, he could probably make up some questions.
“On an interesting note, though sirens were known to lure sailors off ships to their deaths, very few sources give an indication of why, or what they did with the bodies. A few suggest some sort of payment, or sacrifice to the ocean, while other theories are simpler, suggesting it may have been to protect territory or because of dietary needs.”
“They ate them?” one of the girls demanded. Peter recognised the brunette, she always got put out when Stiles started bringing up creatures that killed people.
“That is one possibility,” Stiles sighed, “and, as I’ve said, it will take us a long time to get through these classes if you interrupt every time it turns out these creatures kill people. On that note, however, class is over. I hope you took some good notes today.”
A few people groaned. Stiles didn’t really have a regular routine like other professors. His course was different every time because he seemed to choose each class topic on a whim. His argument being that he wrote the exam, so he could teach whatever he wanted. It hadn’t taken the class long to recognise his way of indicating something would show up in an assessment.
Peter packed up slowly as usual; earning him some snickers and giggles. Stiles gave him an impatient look as the other students filtered out.
“Is there any chance we could skip the usual delay Mr Hale,” he asked with a sigh, though he still looked slightly amused, “I have a lunch meeting today.”
“A date?” Peter asked, surprised. Stiles usually assured the class he had plenty of time, all the time. He’d even told them stories about his pets, who tended to drive off potential dates. Aside from which, while he’d been dismissive, he’d never been so blatant about it.
“Not quite,” Stiles chuckled, his smile a bit more genuine, “But I’ll be murdered if I’m not on time. Any questions, Mr Hale?”
Quite a few, but none his Professor would likely answer.
“No,” he said ignoring his wolf’s raised hackles, “Enjoy your date, Professor.”
“Enjoy your afternoon, Mr Hale,” Stiles chuckled, shaking his head slightly. Peter watched him leave with narrowed eyes. He didn’t like this. He did not like this at all.
Time for some investigating.
“Lydia, I don’t see how this is my problem and honestly I really don’t care.” Stiles’ voice snapped, clearly agitated. Peter stood carefully focussing his hearing on Professor Martin’s room, glad for the group of classmates he’d bumped into. Lydia Martin taught high-level math classes, and was both feared and awed by students.
Peter was actually in one of her classes; he hadn’t realised that two of his favourite teachers were friends.
“Yeah I know, but I don’t want it drawing attention to us.” Lydia replied waspishly, “The last thing I need is some thug getting in my business with his racist attitude.”
“They couldn’t find you if they tried,” Stiles countered confidently, “You know I wouldn’t let them.”
“I know, and I’m grateful,” Lydia sighed, “But you know as well as I do the damage that could be done if attentions drawn here.”
“Yeah, it’s so cute the way they think they’re being discrete.” Stiles chuckled, then sighed, “Ok, fine. I’ll look into it, but I still say it’s not that serious.”
“Well it could be, they’re walking a very thin line.” Lydia huffed.
“I got it, I got it,” Stiles huffed, “Now pass the honey chicken. You have guests waiting, by the way.”
“Oh, joy, students,” Lydia sighed. Peter heard her chair push out and made a point to focus back on the conversation of his classmates.
“Hey, you’re the one who decided to go for teaching,” Stiles snorted, “And dragged me into it.”
“I don’t think your class really counts as teaching,” Lydia replied doubtfully.
“Rude.” Stiles laughed as Lydia opened the door, looking over the gathered group.
“Which ones of you actually have questions?” she asked immediately, tone indicating she wasn’t willing to deal with any nonsense. Three of the five students raised their hands.
“I’m out of here anyway, Lyds,” Stiles announced, “I took the rest of the honey chicken, and the dumplings.”
“Of course you did,” Lydia rolled her eyes, “Get out of here, Stilinski. Some of us have actual work to do.”
“Sure sure.” Stiles shrugged. He glanced over the group of students. Raising an eyebrow and smirking a little when his eyes landed on Peter. He shook his head and began making his way down the hall.
“All right,” Lydia announced, “You two can go if you don’t have questions.”
Peter nodded, while James, who wasn’t actually in Lydia’s class, said he’d wait. Lydia merely shrugged and turned back into her room.
Peter followed after Stiles, exiting the building in time to see him climbing into his old blue jeep, a dumpling held in his mouth as he started reversing. Peter watched him with narrowed eyes, well and truly curious now. Stiles barely glanced at him, but Peter recognized the amusement in his eyes when he did.
“What do you want?” Peter groaned, looking over his essay.
“Is that anyway to greet your sister?” Talia asked over the phone. Peter grunted. “Whatever, mum and dad told me to let you know that there’s something in your area. You’re not supposed to get involved, because of the local power hierarchy, but they didn’t want you caught unaware. Apparently the local pack is still undecided on their stance.”
“So we have no idea what it is?” Peter asked, deciding this was far more interesting than his essay.
“I think they know, but they’re not eager to share,” Talia huffed, indignant, “Honestly, I’m going to be Alpha and they won’t even tell me what’s happening outside our territory.”
“They just don’t want you hurt,” Peter teased, “You are the future of the pack after all.”
“Oh, ha ha.” Talia replied, sneer in her voice, “Anyway, how’s that crush on your professor going?”
“I do not have a crush on my Professor.” Peter sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Nice try, Petey, but you were totally fawning last time you were here,” Talia snorted, “Your wolf was ready to roll over and show it’s stomach just at the thought of him.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Peter huffed, “I’ve got to go, I have an essay to write.”
“Sure you do. Behave, stay out of trouble, and don’t get your crush fired.”
Peter hung up.
He stared at his laptop for a moment. He wasn’t that bad, was he? Ok, yes, he liked Stiles, but he was too old to be having a crush. He was twenty-two for gods’ sake.
“I’m going out,” Peter announced, saving his essay and turning away from the computer. He recognized when his thoughts were about to start looping, and he hated being stuck in his own head.
In hindsight he could see how this series of events played out. Stiles was discussing mysterious things, there was something on the loose causing trouble, and Peter went out clubbing. Which all led to Peter being smashed in the head with a mountain ash infused bat, wielded by one Stiles Stilinski.
To be fair Peter had been pretty close to tearing the other’s throat out because the one who looked so much like him, the one with the hypnotizing aura, told him to.
Peter’s wolf roared unhappily, turning to snarl at the fake despite his rather pounding headache. Stiles was already facing off with the creature. Its form seemed to continuously shift in front of him.
“Ok, now, see, you crossed a line,” Stiles told it, his voice hard and full of power. “I was all for letting you go. Rapists and murders, I figured, hey, at least it’s feeding off the bad people. Maybe it’s young and doesn’t realize its killing them.”
“It makes the meal so much sweeter,” the creature said in a silky voice, “I’m sure even you could learn to enjoy it.”
“You can’t even pick a form for me,” Stiles snorted, “You can’t expect to seduce someone if your appearance is changing every five seconds.”
Peter would admit, later and only to himself, that he was a little embarrassed it took him so long to make the connection. An incubus. He’d nearly been killed by an incubus, right after covering them in class.
“I was going to let you go.” Stiles continued, clearly agitated. “Ask you to move on so you didn’t draw hunters to us, but then you had to go an attack a student. Literally one of my students. What were you even thinking?”
“It’s amazing what people are willing to do with the right incentive.” the creature replied.
“So, what? You were going to seduce every non-human in the city? You wouldn’t even be able to find them all.” Stiles snorted, talking a swing at the creature when it shifted as if it was going to move towards him. Peter couldn’t help but be entranced by the movement, smooth and confident. He’d been attracted to Stiles before, but the power.
Wow.
Of course that was when the incubus noticed that Peter was back in control of himself, mostly. It grinned dangerously, and Peter watched it shift forms. The imitation of Stiles had been effective when Peter was properly under its thrall, but with the real Stiles standing beside it, looking confident and disbelieving, it paled in comparison.
“But he has such potential,” the imitation purred, “So much strength to offer. You want to protect me, don’t you, Peter?”
Peter’s wolf rumbled unhappily, but the voice seemed to wrap around him. He wanted to protect it. He hated it. It was very confusing.
“And I can offer you so much power, I know tricks that would amaze you,” the incubus continued, giving Stiles a dangerous grin, “I’m already powerful enough to influence a werewolf, imagine what we could do together.”
Together. The voice swirled in his head. It was what he wanted, but tainted. It was getting harder to pin down his reasoning outside of that voice.
“Dude,” Stiles interrupted, his steely voice cutting through the thick haze of Peter’s mind, “I’m literally standing right here. A regular student might bend and attack me, but a wolf isn’t so easily turned away. Trust me.”
“Peter, Peter he wants to hurt me, to keep us apart,” the other Stiles told him desperately, “You have to stop him. He underestimates you, he thinks your nothing.”
Peter’s wolf rumbled unhappily and he wasn’t even sure exactly what it was unhappy about any more. Still, he found himself crouching, fangs out, eager to attack something.
“Honestly,” Stiles rolled his eyes, turning to face Peter fully, face hard, but a familiar quirk to his lips. “Mr Hale, I think that’s enough non-sense for one day, don’t you?”
It was a familiar question. Some days Stiles got tired of his pestering and flirting, not enough to snap, but enough to warn him off. Peter sat back with a huff, as was his usual reaction. Unlike usual, however, Stiles laughed.
“You should take my class,” he told the incubus, “Werewolves are pack creatures. They respond best to familiar people they’ve formed a bond with. You may have brute strength, but you’ve got no finesse.”
“Then I’ll kill you myself,” the incubus snarled. Peter’s wolf made a panicked noise seeing the imitation Stiles attack the real Stiles. He was still under influence, though, and before he could force himself to move the real Stiles had dropped his bat in favour of pulling out a sword and swinging with a level of experience Peter wouldn’t have expected.
The incubus managed to change direction enough to avoid immediate decapitation, but the sword sliced across its side, leaving an impressive gash. Peter wrinkled his nose at the smell of burnt flesh.
“Oh, good,” Stiles chuckled, “I’m never sure if that’s going to work.”
Peter watched the pair. The incubus seemed more wary now, while Stiles seemed intent of forcing it to move before he did. That was when Peter realized Stiles was standing between him and it, protecting Peter even though the incubus no longer seemed interested in him.
“C’mon, weren’t you going to kill me.” Stiles taunted. The incubus snarled, but was trying to back up slightly. Stiles sighed and then, with surprising speed, flicked his hand forward, throwing a knife and lodged into the incubus’s thigh. The incubus let out an angry pained noise and charged Stiles again, clearly not used to actually being in a fight.
Stiles swung again, this time shifting to match the incubus’s move. His swing hit its mark, slicing into the incubus’s neck. Stile grunted, forcing the sword all the way through the creature’s neck, separating its head from its shoulders. It didn’t bleed much, the sword having cauterized the wound. Stiles sighed and walked over to crouch beside Peter.
“Interesting note,” he said lightly, “incubi and succubi are actually very similar to the fae. They burn at the touch of iron. Keeps things clean. How you holding up?”
“I want to die,” Peter groaned. His head was killing him.
“Yeah, you’re gonna have to sleep it off.” Stiles nodded, “C’mon, I’ll get you back to your dorm.”
Stiles pulled one of Peter’s arms over his shoulders, displaying more strength than Peter would have expected. He all but carried the werewolf out of the… abandoned warehouse. Oh God he’d been kidnapped and held in an abandoned warehouse. How cliché.
“Don’t feel too bad,” Stiles assured, “Your actually handling this really well.”
“Yeah... I... I think I’m going to throw up.” Peter mumbled. Stiles immediately turned him away from the familiar blue Jeep and pointed him in the other direction. Peter emptied the contents of his stomach, grateful that Stiles had lowered him to the ground so he didn’t get any on his clothes.
Dear God, was this what being drunk felt like? If it was, Peter was immensely grateful for werewolf constitution. Although, having Stiles rubbing his back gently didn’t feel too bad.
“You held out well,” Stiles assured him. “First time I faced a succubus my fight with her thrall ended with me throwing up on her. Which, hey, pretty effective method of breaking their control apparently. It’s different for humans, that’s why incubi and succubi don’t usually feed off other supernatural creatures.”
“Could you stop being a Professor for five minutes?” Peter grumbled.
“Right, sorry.” Stiles chuckled, gripping his shoulder. “Think your done for now?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never been sick before.” Peter snapped.
“Right,” Stiles rolled his eyes, “C’mon, I’ve got some water and mints in the car, it’ll help with the taste.”
“So, you’ve known all along I’m a werewolf?” Peter asked as Stiles helped him into the car.
“I knew when you moved,” Stiles grinned in reply. “The local pack told me. Things work differently in the city than in smaller areas that can be properly territory marked.”
“I know, power hierarchy, debate, reasoning, I get it,” Peter rolled his eyes, sipping at his water. “You’re going to have to explain this to me, later. Probably over a meal.”
“I just saved your life,” Stiles laughed, “I don’t think I’m the one who owes anyone anything. Never mind the fact that I’m going to have to call your parents and the local pack about this.”
“Oh God, my sister’s never going to let me live this down.” Peter groaned.
“Actually given the incubus’s level of power you did really well,” Stiles offered, “Normally I would have had to pin you down until I’d killed it, and even then, I’ve seen wolves who just curled up and refused to interact until they’d spent days surrounded by pack. Looks like your crush has some useful real world application.”
“It’s not a crush,” Peter whined, throwing his head back.
“Sure it’s not,” Stiles chuckled, pulling to a stop, “Come on, I’ll walk you up. Is your roommate in?”
“No, he’s staying with his girlfriend.” Peter answered, letting Stiles pull his arm over his shoulder again.
“That’s good,” Stiles nodded, “Sleep it off, maybe call your family. I can send over some other werewolves, if you want.”
“Nah, I’m feeling better,” Peter assured, “Just a headache. I just want to sleep for days.”
“Yeah, I remember that feeling.” Stiles laughed lightly. Peter watched his light-hearted behavior, remembering the fierce warrior who had stood between him and the incubus.
“You know, I still think you owe me a date,” he commented, leaning against his door-frame.
“I think you’re probably wrong,” Stiles chuckled. Peter watched Stiles smile his familiar, amused, smile and slowly lean towards him. If asked, he’d say the incubus’s thrall was still effecting him, which is why he couldn’t get himself to react as Stiles pressed his lip gently against his.
It was chaste, nothing like Peter had imagined their first kiss to be, but it made his wolf rumble contentedly.
“Why don’t you ask me again next year after graduation?” Stiles suggested when he pulled away, smiling easily. “Sleep well and drink lots of water, ok?”
“That’s it?” Peter demanded. He wanted to grab Stiles and drag him back, but he wasn’t sure how much of his strength had returned. The last thing he wanted to do was face plant in front of Stiles now.
“For now,” Stiles chuckled, “I expect to see you fully recovered in class on Monday. Peter.”