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English
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Writer's Pride Month Bingo 2025
Stats:
Published:
2025-06-05
Words:
493
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
13
Kudos:
96
Bookmarks:
6
Hits:
518

Lil’ Duckling

Summary:

Just a cute lil something, and some green juice.

Notes:

For Bingo: Green

Work Text:

Whatever liquid it is in that glass looks way too fucking green.

 

Stiles thinks to himself, and picks up the glass to take a tentative sniff. It’s futile. He’s all congested and can’t smell dog shit.

 

“That doesn’t look like spinach,” Stiles mumbles. “Celery? No, no, too bright. It’s not kale either. What in the world is this, Peter? It’s brighter than melon soda.”

 

“Well, I want to say it’s magical herbs that will heal you right away, but it’s mainly wormwood.” Peter looks amused, “I’m more impressed that you can tell the colors of your leaves.”

 

“Hey! I’ve made enough green drinks for my pop to know the difference.” Stiles looks closer at the glass, “ …wait, you said wormwood? As in absinthe? Gasps! I’m underage, bro.”

 

“Bro me again I will take away your pillow privilege,” which refers to giving Stiles full access to all four pillows in bed. Peter has studied Stiles’ pillow thefts many times, and has yet to figure out the logistics of hoarding all pillows without dropping them in sleep. At this point, Peter is inclined to watch him the whole night just to make sure Stiles isn’t messing with him.

 

“Besides, it’s non-alcoholic …”

 

“You know there’s no sufficient empirical study to support wormwood’s use to treat common cold. Plus — ”

 

“ …and comes with magical herbs that WILL help with your cold.” Peter sighs, ”if you let me finish. Yes, darling boy, I’m well aware of the myth of absinthe.”

 

Stiles blinks at Peter: “Sorry about that.”

 

Peter scoffs with amusement, knocks twice on the glass with his index finger, giving it a melodic clink. There’s no way Peter can stay mad at Stiles, especially not when Stiles sounds like a quacking duck due to his nasal croakiness.

 

Stiles stares at his drink for a second or two, and chugs it down in one go.

 

“Huh,” Stiles smacks his lips, “it’s not that bad.”

 

Then quickly gives a once over, “Holy crap Peter! That smells like couch cleaner!” Stiles’ eyes rounded as he baffled: “I CAN SMELL!”

 

“Yes you can. Now, for the healing effect to last, our resident sick boy gotta go to sleep. Don’t pout at me. Nuh-uh. If you want to get better soon, you gotta go to sleep, now.”

 

“No I don’t. I’m better.”

 

Peter gently lay the protesting human back in bed, “yes you do. This is how these magical herbs work.”

 

Annnnd, the sleep spell is gonna be in effect in approximately, five, four, three, two… 

 

“It’s a set up… a coup… ” Peter watches Stiles as he mutters before dozing off, mouth still open. His little snoring follows next.

 

The werewolf nudges his chin up until Stiles’ lips are loosely touched. He then adjusts the pillow and tucks his human in, wrapping the boy in a blanket cocoon. Watching with amused adoration, Peter places a kiss on Stiles’s forehead.

 

“…and one. Sleep tight, my lil duck.” 

 

His whispers blend into Stiles’ peaceful snore.