Prompt: Stiles dies but Peter brings him back from the dead. Peter links Stiles revival to his own life force ensuring that they’re permanently bonded.
Stiles wakes up on a wheezing breath, something in his chest rattling. His body feels weighed down, limbs heavy like they were left unused for too long. He’s numb and cold, but there’s warmth spreading from the fingers he can feel pressed right over his heart.
It takes a moment for Stiles to open his eyes and then another one to focus and see. He doesn’t recognize the ceiling, doesn’t have the energy to turn his head and see if anything else in the room looks familiar.
But he is certainly familiar with the man hovering above him, legs straddling Stiles’ hips and a hand still on Stiles’ chest.
“Peter?” He asks, but it comes out barely a word, the brief attempt at talking sending him into a coughing fit.
Peter lifts himself off of him enough to help him turn to his side, but the hand over Stiles’ heart remains in place. Like they’re glued together. Like Peter has to feel his heart beating instead of just listening to its rhythm.
After Stiles’ throat stops protesting, Peter maneuvers him into a half-sitting position on the bed and picks up a glass of water from the nightstand, helping Stiles latch onto the straw thoughtfully put in it for him.
“Easy,” Peter murmurs and takes the water away after only a few sips.
Stiles feels like he ran a marathon in the short span of time that he’s been awake.
He sags into the pillows, but tries to make his gaze as pointed as possible when he flicks his eyes from his own chest, to Peter, to where the wolf is still pretty much kneeling over Stiles.
“I’ll let go soon, I’m just waiting for it to settle,” Peter tells him, explaining exactly nothing.
“Bond,” the werewolf corrects. “It was the only way to get you back.”
Something in Peter’s demeanor eases and the man sits back on his haunches, his fingers slowly sliding down Stiles’ naked chest. The warm feeling follows the movement, the heat of it like a vibration, making Stiles’ body feel lighter, giving him more energy and space in his chest to breathe.
But it also makes him warm and sleepy, eyelids heavy as he fights to stay awake.
“You’re back and you’re mine now.” He thinks he hears Peter say, the words barely registering as he dozes off. “And I won’t let you leave ever again.”