When Stiles received the confirmation that he had got two tickets for the event, well...

"Stiles! Stop jumping and screaming if you're not being attacked!" The Sheriff yelled from the kitchen.

Two tickets for the Marvel Convention! How could he not be excited? He had to call Scott right now!

"Sorry, buddy."

"Really? Are you going to reject a Marvel Convention—MARVEL!—for a dinner with Allison and her father?"

"I've already committed to go and you know that I'm not in Mr. Argent's good graces and if I cancel he'll be mad and-"

"Okay, okay, understood. I'll look for another buddy to accompany me to the MARVEL! Convention."

He hung up the cell phone and resisted the urge to throw it to the ground because it wasn't the first cell that was destroyed that month (supernatural's fault, not his. Really.)

"Ok, boys and girls!" Stiles entered the loft with determination, brandishing the two tickets as if they were prizes. "I have two tickets for the Marvel Convention. Who will be the lucky one to come with me?"

"Sorry, Batman, I'm more of DC," Erica answered. Boyd just shook his head, seated by her side.

"Superman is from Marvel?" Isaac asked and Stiles dismissed him just for that.

Lydia ignored him directly, and Derek grunted and frowned, a gesture that no longer impressed him at all, but that clearly said "no, stop bothering" (Stiles was already pretty good at deciphering the Browish language.)

Stiles sighed and sank down into the couch with his limbs outstretched like a puppet. "I don't wanna go alone," he whined pitifully.

"I'll go with you."

Stiles jumped off the couch at the sudden voice that sounded right next to his ear. He turned around (almost stumbling on his own feet) and, of course, there was Peter.

"Stop doing that, Creepy Wolf," he said, rubbing his ear, a slight flush on his cheeks. "And what do you know about Marvel?"

"That Loki has serious Daddy issues and that Black Widow is very underestimated and I'm anxious to see the movie that they're going to do about her."

Stiles stared at him for a moment with his mouth hanging open. Peter had definitely caught up over the six years he had spent in a coma.

"You are a geek," Stiles said finally and it wasn't a question. "You come with me. And cosplayed."

"Of course, sweetheart." There was a smile on the wolf's face as he scratched his chin in a typical villain gesture.

Until the day of the convention, Stiles regretted multiple times his decision to take Peter with him. It wasn't that he didn't like the Zombie Wolf. In fact, he was probably the one Stiles got along better (besides Scott) from the whole pack, which was the most disturbing; but spending a whole day alone with him... That was new and, well, there had been some flirting between them and sometimes he wasn't sure if it was serious or just a game and this could or could not be a dat- whatever. During those days his mind went to places where it definitely shouldn't be.

Finally, the day came and when he left home to meet the werewolf he regretted it completely. Peter was cosplayed as Tony Stark. Not with the full suit of Iron Man, but with a tight dark blue shirt that looked painted over his muscles, with a circle with real lights in the chest and a glove of Iron Man's suit on a hand. Just like in one of the scenes from the movie that Stiles had seen so many times. And, worst of all, his goatee was totally identical to Tony Stark's. Okay, Stiles had a thing for facial hair and for smart people with wit and for those who were able to appreciate sarcasm and-... he was doomed. It was obvious from the smirk on Peter's face that he could smell his... uh... enthusiasm.

"Captain America, huh? That's more for Scott. I think Loki would suit you better," Peter said, leering at Stiles shamelessly up and down, appreciating the way the cosplay fit his body.

Stiles wasn't sure if he was saying it because of his (nonexistent) Daddy issues or the wit and sarcasm of the demigod, but at that moment he only was aware that the suit he wore didn't hide anything at all in his middle area. Yep, he was doomed.