Peter/Stiles, Chris/Stiles, Deucalion/Stiles 31665+ words
Stiles Stilinski was making his dreams come true. It didn't matter that he was years behind the curve, that he found his calling too late for proper apprenticeship, or that his skills were inconsistent at best; he was a full fledged Druid, officially approved and everything. He even had an assignment, direct from the Council themselves, straight out of the gate! If that meant shacking up with three of the most gorgeous and damaged werewolves currently alive, well... he could think of worse things. At least here he was doing some good, and the fringe benefits weren't too bad either.
Peters neighbor is afraid of needles, and Peter thinks he's just cute enough to terrorize. It sounds darker than it is.
“What is that boy doing?” Peter looked up from his art and glanced at the window. His pretty, pale, neighbor was attempting to cross the street. He wasn't having much luck with his hands covering his eyes. He'd gotten himself stuck in the middle of the road, with cars passing by on either side. Still, he refused to drop his hands.