Fic: The Blue We Breathe, Teen Wolf, Chris Argent / Peter Hale
Title: The Blue We Breathe
Author: Claire
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s): Chris Argent / Peter Hale, Derek Hale / Peter Hale (one-sided)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3360
Summary: After watching Chris put Peter on his knees the last time, the pack now want to see more.
Notes: Sequel to here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1543319/chapters/4896624
The title is from a quote by William Gass.
The Blue We Breathe
It's Stiles who approaches Chris, all considered words and careful thought. Chris has never seen Stiles hesitate before, has never seen him hold back on his words. So Chris can't help but wonder what's making him do it now, what's so difficult to ask that the words seem like they're sticking in Stiles' throat.
"Stiles--" Chris holds up a hand. "Just tell me what it is you want."
Stiles looks at him, and Chris can see the deep breath the boy is taking, can see the look in Stiles' eyes as he fixes his gaze on Chris.
"I want to watch you fuck Peter."
Part of Chris isn't surprised by the request, has been half expecting it for weeks.
There's been a shift in the air ever since that night, ever since the rest of the pack watched as Chris put Peter on his knees and painted his face with white.
"What? Now?" Chris asks. And he thinks Peter would do it. Would come to Chris' and drop to his knees. Would let Stiles watch as Chris opened him up with fingers and cock until he was a trembling mess.
Stiles shakes his head, and he seems emboldened by the fact that Chris hasn't said no, hasn't told him that it's not going to happen.
"At one of the pack meetings." Stiles pauses. "I'm not the only one who wants to see it."
Stiles hasn't mentioned any names, but he doesn't need to. Chris still remembers the way Scott had watched, eyes wide as his gaze flickered between Peter's lips around Chris' dick, and Stiles' lap, where Stiles' own hand was pressing against the hardness there. He remembers how Kira's breath had hitched as Chris had tugged Peter's head back only a second before he'd come, before he'd splattered Peter's face with the most blatant mark of ownership there was. Remembers the way Lydia's fingers had moved against her thigh as Peter's tongue had darted out to lap at the come on his face, wiping up what he couldn't reach with his fingers before licking them clean.
And he remembers the way Derek's eyes hadn't left Peter's face, had watched every moment from the minute Chris had pulled Peter off the sofa to the very end, as Peter's fingers had wiped the last of Chris' come off his face.
"Okay." Because as much as Peter had wanted it last time, Chris wants it now. Wants the rest of the pack to see Peter, shivering and split open around him. Wants them to see that Peter's choice, that Peter's only decision, will always be Chris.
"Really?" Stiles sounds surprised, like he wasn't actually expecting Chris to agree, wasn't expecting him to let the rest of the them see him open Peter up, take Peter apart.
But as much as Peter loves people watching them, so does Chris. Chris loves them knowing that he is the first one Peter looks to. That, no matter how much they want Peter, the only one the wolf will ever kneel for is Chris.
"That's what I said, Stiles."
"Awesome." Stiles grins, and then pauses. "When?"
"It'll happen when it happens." Because Chris isn't going to force this, isn't going to do this at any point other than the one that feels right.
Stiles stares at him for a minute and then nods, apparently having decided that Chris isn't just humouring him. "Okay, then, I'll let the rest of the pack know you said yes." Stiles doesn't wait for a response before he turns to leave, pausing once he gets to the door. "And, Chris? Thanks."
-o-
The first pack meeting after Stiles' visit to Chris is thick with anticipation, but if the kids think Chris is about to just bend Peter over, then they're going to be disappointed.
Peter knows something's going on, looks at Chris with narrowed eyes after Scott glances over at them for what seems like the hundredth time.
But Chris doesn't say anything, just lets the meeting continue as normal until everyone is getting ready to leave.
It's Scott who comes over as Chris is shrugging his jacket on, Peter over with Derek.
And Chris knows what Scott's about to say before he ever even opens his mouth.
"Stiles said--"
"And I told him it'll happen when it happens, Scott."
He looks over to where Peter is glancing at them, a soft look of confusion on his face.
"You'll see it, Scott," Chris says, "but it'll be when I decide."
Scott nods. "Okay."
Peter heads over once Scott has gone. "And what did young Mr McCall want?" His voice is light but Chris can hear the underlying curiosity in him.
"Do you trust me, Peter?" And even as he asks it, Chris already knows the answer is yes. Peter tells Chris he trusts him every time he goes to his knees, every time he puts himself in the hands of someone who was trained to kill his kind from birth.
"I trust you less when you ask questions like that," Peter pointedly comments.
Chris just grins, ignoring the muttering coming from Peter as he leads his wolf out of the loft.
-o-
It's at the pack meeting a few weeks later when it happens. A few weeks later, when they're all at the loft and the teenagers are spread across the floor, half chatting and half watching the movie playing in the background.
Peter and Chris have claimed one of the sofas, with Peter lying across it, his head in Chris' lap.
There's a sub-vocal purr rumbling through Peter each time Chris cards his fingers through the wolf's hair, and vibrations that close to Chris' cock are starting to have an effect.
And Chris knows that Peter is aware of his building arousal, knows it from the way Peter smirks and presses his head further back into Chris' lap until he's rubbing at the now straining denim.
"Really, pup?" Chris murmurs. "You want to start this here, in front of the entire pack?"
Peter doesn't answer, just presses the back of his head harder against Chris' bulge.
Moving his hand from Peter's hair, and ignoring the whine of loss that comes with it, Chris lightly rubs his fingertips over Peter's lips.
"Get me wet, Peter," Chris says, attracting the attention of those closest to them.
Peter barely spares a glance towards those now looking at them before taking two of Chris' fingers in his mouth, laving over them with his tongue.
All of the pack are looking in their direction now, the movie playing on, forgotten, in the background.
Chris keeps his eyes on the pack, his gaze moving from one to the next, as he slowly pulls his spit-slick fingers from Peter's mouth.
"Yeah, do it," mutter Stiles, as Chris' hand slips down the back of Peter's jeans, wet fingertips nudging at Peter's asshole.
"Do you want this, Peter? Do you want the pack to see you getting taken like a bitch in heat?" Because if Peter says no, then this isn't happening, regardless of what he'd told Scott and Stiles.
"Yes," Peter hisses, pressing his ass back and moaning as Chris' fingers sink inside to the first knuckle.
And Chris wonders why he'd ever doubted that would be Peter's answer, not when he'd so enthusiastically sucked Chris' cock last time, not when Peter's wolf wants to show the pack his mate is worthy.
Chris slides his fingers in further, spreading Peter's ass around them. "Undo your jeans, pup," he says. "Give me more room."
Peter snaps open the buttons on his jeans, hooking his thumbs into the belt and tugging the denim down to underneath his ass, giving Chris unfettered access.
Chris smiles as Peter obeys, his fingers moving in and out of Peter's ass in slow, lazy thrusts that have Peter whining for more.
"Fuck--"
Chris looks up at the interruption, looks up at Stiles' face, pulling his attention away from Peter. He meets the boy's eyes, Stiles flushing red as he realises Chris is watching him rub at the bulge behind his jeans. And Stiles isn't the only one. Scott's flexing his fingers like he's trying so hard to keep from touching himself. Lydia is sitting on her hands, and Kira's fingertips are drumming a steady, silent tattoo against her thigh.
It's Derek who breaks the stalemate, though. Derek, who opens his jeans and releases his hard cock as he keeps his eyes on his uncle's face. He doesn't take his gaze off Peter as he starts to stroke himself, moving at the same speed Chris' fingers are fucking into Peter.
And it's as though Derek's actions give the rest of the pack the permission they need.
"Look at them, pup," Chris murmurs, his voice low.
Peter's eyes open from where they've drifted shut, gaze moving across each pack member, watching as fingers wrap around cocks and bury themselves inside pussies.
Pulling his fingers free from Peter's body, Chris slaps Peter's ass sharply, watching as the red hand print blooms on Peter's skin before fading to nothing.
"Strip," Chris says.
A beat passes, just long enough to mark that Peter is doing this because he wants to, and then Peter is rolling off the sofa, looking at Chris as he stands. He toes his boots off before pushing his jeans and boxers the rest of the way down, stepping out of them and nudging them to the side with a foot. The henley he's wearing is pulled over his head and dropped to the floor, on top of his jeans.
Chris would be lying if he said that the sight of his wolf, standing naked in front of him, in front of the pack, wasn't having an effect. He pinches the base of his cock to keep this from being over before it even starts.
Spreading his legs, Chris meets Peter's eyes. "Suck me, Peter."
There's a hitched breath at his words, and Chris doesn't know which of the girls it comes from. He's too busy watching Peter sink gracefully to his knees, too busy watching Peter lean forward, his tongue darting out to lap at Chris' cock.
And he could stay here forever, Chris thinks, with his wolf on his knees in front of him. Because Peter's good at this, at taking Chris into his mouth and working him over with teeth and tongue and lips. But the pack have already seen Peter blowing Chris, have already seen Chris covering Peter's face in his come, and they wanted a show.
"My bag--" Chris waves in the direction of where he left his bag when he came in, hearing the sounds of movement as two of the teens scramble towards it.
It's Scott that hands him the tube of lubricant, new and untouched. It's been sitting in Chris' bag ever since Stiles approached him, ever since he agreed to do this.
He flicks open the tube in one hand, patting his lap as he smirks. "Come here, Peter."
Peter straddles him, shuffling forward until their chests are bare inches apart. Chris squeezes the tube, covering his fingers in lube before they unerringly find the entrance to Peter's body, sinking inside.
"Fuck--" And that was definitely Stiles. He can't see the boy from the angle he's sitting, Peter's body blocking the sight. But he can hear the sound of skin against skin, can imagine Stiles watching, wide-eyed, as he jerks his cock in time with Chris' fingers spreading the lube into Peter's ass.
Chris pulls his fingers out, recoating them before sliding them back into Peter. Peter's forehead is against his shoulder, and his hips are making tiny hunching motions as Chris finger fucks him. Tangling his free hand in Peter's hair, Chris pulls his head up, a shudder of heat running through him as he meets eyes that are too blue, too bright. And he loves that it's him who does this to Peter, that it's him Peter reacts like this for. Loves that Peter, who yields to nothing and no one, will bend for Chris.
Leaning forward, Chris presses a kiss to Peter's chest, mouthing "Ready?" against his skin.
Peter nods, reaching down and taking the tube out of Chris' hand, squeezing some lube out before dropping the tube to the couch. He wraps his fingers around Chris' cock, slicking the lube over the hard length.
Chris hisses at the motion, Peter's touch too light and yet still too much.
"Come on, ride him." Kira's voice is breathy, and when Chris glances over it's to the sight of her thighs spread, and her hand over her pussy, two of her fingers buried inside.
Steadying Chris' cock, Peter starts to lower himself until Chris is against his asshole. And there's that moment where Chris thinks Peter's too tight, that the wolf isn't going to let him inside, and then Peter shifts slightly, his body opening around Chris.
Peter's groan as Chris slides inside is matched by Derek's, and Chris can see movement out of the corner of his eye, can see Derek squeeze at his cockhead.
Peter sinks down slowly until he's against Chris' lap, until Chris is fully inside him. And Peter doing this in front of the pack, letting everyone see him taking Chris into his body, sends a rush of thrilling possession through Chris. Chris normally banks down on that part of him, that dark streak within him that screams out Mine-- every time he looks at Peter, but not now, not here.
Because Chris doesn't need to be a wolf to smell the arousal in the air, to smell the precome, to hear the soft moans and the sound of skin moving over skin. And it makes his cock harder than ever. To know that the pack are surrounding them, watching them. To know that the claim he and Peter have on each other has never been so blatantly acknowledged as it is being now.
Peter's starting to move, lifting himself off Chris' cock to slide back down. Chris reaches out, wrapping his fingers lightly around the very tops of Peter's thighs, his thumbs brushing over Peter's ass.
"That's it, pup," he says, his fingers flexing, pulling Peter's asscheeks open so the pack can see where they're joined, can see where Chris is fucking into Peter.
"Fuck, yeah."
There are more words, more noises other than Stiles', but Chris isn't listening. He's too focused on Peter, too focused on the way Peter is tight and hot around him. Peter's rolling his hips as he rides Chris, the slick slide and the sound of Peter's ass slapping against Chris' thighs ringing through the loft. There's precome dripping from Peter's cock, soaking into Chris' t-shirt, the scent of it heavy in the air.
There's a hitch in Peter's breath as Chris wraps his fingers around him, starts to jerk Peter in the same tempo Peter's fucking himself on Chris' cock.
There's a groan that Chris recognises as Scott, and Stiles' "Yeah, Scotty," that accompanies it.
Peter's head is thrown back, his teeth biting into his lower lip as he bounces on Chris' dick. Chris speeds up, stripping Peter's cock roughly.
Peter's head snaps up, his gaze fixing on Chris. And Chris can tell he's close, can tell from the bright blue staring at him, from the stuttered hitch in Peter's breath. Twisting his fingers slightly, Chris runs his thumbnail down the length of Peter's cock, squeezing sharply at the base of Peter's cock.
Peter growls as he's denied his orgasm, a soft snarl on his lips as he glares at Chris. But Chris just smirks. Smirks, and strokes Peter again, pulling him closer and closer to the edge before refusing him again.
And fuck, his wolf is beautiful like this. With his lips open as he half growls, half whines at Chris, his body flushed as he rides Chris' cock. There are slight tremors running through Peter's thighs, and Chris wants to sink his teeth into the flesh, wants to mark Peter up in shades of red and purple, signing his name across each bruise, each mark.
Not wanting to tease Peter further, Chris strips his cock, twisting his hand as he jerks Peter. He keeps his eyes on Peter, watching as the blue in his eyes bleeds even brighter with each pass of Chris' hand. Bleeds brighter, until--
"Come on, Peter. Come for me."
Peter shudders in Chris' grip, his body clenching around Chris' cock as he comes. Hot white splatters across Chris' t-shirt, and onto his fingers, as Peter's head drops to Chris' shoulder. And the grip of Peter's ass, rippling around Chris, starts pulling his orgasm from him. Chris can feel it in the pit of his stomach, his balls tightening. He thrusts up once, twice, his hands moving back to Peter's hips, come-covered fingers leaving a streak of white across Peter's skin as he grips tightly.
Chris comes with a groan, his balls twitching as he empties himself into Peter. Peter slumps against him, breathing heavily, his spent cock trapped between them. Looking over Peter's shoulder, Chris glances around the loft. The rest of the pack are in various states of disarray, and it's obvious that they've all enjoyed watching.
The only one still hard, still stroking themselves, is Derek, his eyes focused on Peter's ass. Slowly, Chris moves his hands to Peter's ass. He keeps his gaze on Derek as he grips Peter's asscheeks, pulling them apart to reveal where his softening cock is still buried in Peter's body.
Derek's nostrils flare, sharp brightness creeping into his eyes as he watches. His hand speeds up, jacking himself roughly, staring at where Peter's hole is stretched tight around the thickness impaling him.
Nudging Peter's cheek with his own, Chris waits until there's a murmured response, waits until Peter lifts his head to look at him, the "Chris?" almost incoherent on his lips.
"Lift yourself up, pup," Chris says, his hands squeezing Peter's ass gently to urge him to move.
Peter puts his hands on Chris' chest, his thighs trembling as he pushes himself slowly up. Chris can feel his cock slipping out of Peter's body, can feel the cool air brushing over his come-slick flesh. A second later, the head of Chris' cock slides out of Peter's body, the now soft length dropping to rest on Chris' thigh.
Derek's hand is speeding over his cock, grunting breaths coming from him with each pass. "Hold him open," he asks, like he's not sure if Chris is going to.
But Chris does. Pulls Peter's asscheeks even further apart, because he wants Derek to see this. Wants Derek to see how he's marked Peter up, how Peter has let Chris mark him up.
There's a shuddered moan from Peter as Chris presses a finger just underneath his wolf's still open hole, as he feels the come starting to leak out of Peter's body.
Derek stiffens as he comes, biting back a groan before it takes shapes, biting it back in time to meet Chris eyes' and claim it was anything but his uncle's name on his lips.
Derek slumps back into the chair, come-covered fingers wrapped around himself, his eyes still on Peter, still on the way Chris is leaking from Peter's body.
Slicking his fingers through the come trailing from Peter's ass, Chris rubs it over Peter's hole, sharp little breaths coming from Peter with each brush of Chris' fingers. He squirms in Chris' grip until he leans forward and Chris feels sharp teeth nipping at his earlobe. Huffing a laugh at Peter's petulant response, Chris eases him back down until Peter is once again sitting on his thighs.
Peter looks at him, and Chris is sure his wolf is having difficulty focusing, his gaze heavy and sated. Lifting a hand to Peter's face, Chris cups Peter's cheek, smiling when Peter turns into the touch, nuzzling at his palm.
"Won't make it so easy for you next time, Argent." The words are slurred against Chris' skin. "Make you work for it. Really give them something to watch."
"I'm sure you will, pup," Chris replies. He can't wait.
Author: Claire
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s): Chris Argent / Peter Hale, Derek Hale / Peter Hale (one-sided)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3360
Summary: After watching Chris put Peter on his knees the last time, the pack now want to see more.
Notes: Sequel to here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1543319/chapters/4896624
The title is from a quote by William Gass.
The Blue We Breathe
It's Stiles who approaches Chris, all considered words and careful thought. Chris has never seen Stiles hesitate before, has never seen him hold back on his words. So Chris can't help but wonder what's making him do it now, what's so difficult to ask that the words seem like they're sticking in Stiles' throat.
"Stiles--" Chris holds up a hand. "Just tell me what it is you want."
Stiles looks at him, and Chris can see the deep breath the boy is taking, can see the look in Stiles' eyes as he fixes his gaze on Chris.
"I want to watch you fuck Peter."
Part of Chris isn't surprised by the request, has been half expecting it for weeks.
There's been a shift in the air ever since that night, ever since the rest of the pack watched as Chris put Peter on his knees and painted his face with white.
"What? Now?" Chris asks. And he thinks Peter would do it. Would come to Chris' and drop to his knees. Would let Stiles watch as Chris opened him up with fingers and cock until he was a trembling mess.
Stiles shakes his head, and he seems emboldened by the fact that Chris hasn't said no, hasn't told him that it's not going to happen.
"At one of the pack meetings." Stiles pauses. "I'm not the only one who wants to see it."
Stiles hasn't mentioned any names, but he doesn't need to. Chris still remembers the way Scott had watched, eyes wide as his gaze flickered between Peter's lips around Chris' dick, and Stiles' lap, where Stiles' own hand was pressing against the hardness there. He remembers how Kira's breath had hitched as Chris had tugged Peter's head back only a second before he'd come, before he'd splattered Peter's face with the most blatant mark of ownership there was. Remembers the way Lydia's fingers had moved against her thigh as Peter's tongue had darted out to lap at the come on his face, wiping up what he couldn't reach with his fingers before licking them clean.
And he remembers the way Derek's eyes hadn't left Peter's face, had watched every moment from the minute Chris had pulled Peter off the sofa to the very end, as Peter's fingers had wiped the last of Chris' come off his face.
"Okay." Because as much as Peter had wanted it last time, Chris wants it now. Wants the rest of the pack to see Peter, shivering and split open around him. Wants them to see that Peter's choice, that Peter's only decision, will always be Chris.
"Really?" Stiles sounds surprised, like he wasn't actually expecting Chris to agree, wasn't expecting him to let the rest of the them see him open Peter up, take Peter apart.
But as much as Peter loves people watching them, so does Chris. Chris loves them knowing that he is the first one Peter looks to. That, no matter how much they want Peter, the only one the wolf will ever kneel for is Chris.
"That's what I said, Stiles."
"Awesome." Stiles grins, and then pauses. "When?"
"It'll happen when it happens." Because Chris isn't going to force this, isn't going to do this at any point other than the one that feels right.
Stiles stares at him for a minute and then nods, apparently having decided that Chris isn't just humouring him. "Okay, then, I'll let the rest of the pack know you said yes." Stiles doesn't wait for a response before he turns to leave, pausing once he gets to the door. "And, Chris? Thanks."
-o-
The first pack meeting after Stiles' visit to Chris is thick with anticipation, but if the kids think Chris is about to just bend Peter over, then they're going to be disappointed.
Peter knows something's going on, looks at Chris with narrowed eyes after Scott glances over at them for what seems like the hundredth time.
But Chris doesn't say anything, just lets the meeting continue as normal until everyone is getting ready to leave.
It's Scott who comes over as Chris is shrugging his jacket on, Peter over with Derek.
And Chris knows what Scott's about to say before he ever even opens his mouth.
"Stiles said--"
"And I told him it'll happen when it happens, Scott."
He looks over to where Peter is glancing at them, a soft look of confusion on his face.
"You'll see it, Scott," Chris says, "but it'll be when I decide."
Scott nods. "Okay."
Peter heads over once Scott has gone. "And what did young Mr McCall want?" His voice is light but Chris can hear the underlying curiosity in him.
"Do you trust me, Peter?" And even as he asks it, Chris already knows the answer is yes. Peter tells Chris he trusts him every time he goes to his knees, every time he puts himself in the hands of someone who was trained to kill his kind from birth.
"I trust you less when you ask questions like that," Peter pointedly comments.
Chris just grins, ignoring the muttering coming from Peter as he leads his wolf out of the loft.
-o-
It's at the pack meeting a few weeks later when it happens. A few weeks later, when they're all at the loft and the teenagers are spread across the floor, half chatting and half watching the movie playing in the background.
Peter and Chris have claimed one of the sofas, with Peter lying across it, his head in Chris' lap.
There's a sub-vocal purr rumbling through Peter each time Chris cards his fingers through the wolf's hair, and vibrations that close to Chris' cock are starting to have an effect.
And Chris knows that Peter is aware of his building arousal, knows it from the way Peter smirks and presses his head further back into Chris' lap until he's rubbing at the now straining denim.
"Really, pup?" Chris murmurs. "You want to start this here, in front of the entire pack?"
Peter doesn't answer, just presses the back of his head harder against Chris' bulge.
Moving his hand from Peter's hair, and ignoring the whine of loss that comes with it, Chris lightly rubs his fingertips over Peter's lips.
"Get me wet, Peter," Chris says, attracting the attention of those closest to them.
Peter barely spares a glance towards those now looking at them before taking two of Chris' fingers in his mouth, laving over them with his tongue.
All of the pack are looking in their direction now, the movie playing on, forgotten, in the background.
Chris keeps his eyes on the pack, his gaze moving from one to the next, as he slowly pulls his spit-slick fingers from Peter's mouth.
"Yeah, do it," mutter Stiles, as Chris' hand slips down the back of Peter's jeans, wet fingertips nudging at Peter's asshole.
"Do you want this, Peter? Do you want the pack to see you getting taken like a bitch in heat?" Because if Peter says no, then this isn't happening, regardless of what he'd told Scott and Stiles.
"Yes," Peter hisses, pressing his ass back and moaning as Chris' fingers sink inside to the first knuckle.
And Chris wonders why he'd ever doubted that would be Peter's answer, not when he'd so enthusiastically sucked Chris' cock last time, not when Peter's wolf wants to show the pack his mate is worthy.
Chris slides his fingers in further, spreading Peter's ass around them. "Undo your jeans, pup," he says. "Give me more room."
Peter snaps open the buttons on his jeans, hooking his thumbs into the belt and tugging the denim down to underneath his ass, giving Chris unfettered access.
Chris smiles as Peter obeys, his fingers moving in and out of Peter's ass in slow, lazy thrusts that have Peter whining for more.
"Fuck--"
Chris looks up at the interruption, looks up at Stiles' face, pulling his attention away from Peter. He meets the boy's eyes, Stiles flushing red as he realises Chris is watching him rub at the bulge behind his jeans. And Stiles isn't the only one. Scott's flexing his fingers like he's trying so hard to keep from touching himself. Lydia is sitting on her hands, and Kira's fingertips are drumming a steady, silent tattoo against her thigh.
It's Derek who breaks the stalemate, though. Derek, who opens his jeans and releases his hard cock as he keeps his eyes on his uncle's face. He doesn't take his gaze off Peter as he starts to stroke himself, moving at the same speed Chris' fingers are fucking into Peter.
And it's as though Derek's actions give the rest of the pack the permission they need.
"Look at them, pup," Chris murmurs, his voice low.
Peter's eyes open from where they've drifted shut, gaze moving across each pack member, watching as fingers wrap around cocks and bury themselves inside pussies.
Pulling his fingers free from Peter's body, Chris slaps Peter's ass sharply, watching as the red hand print blooms on Peter's skin before fading to nothing.
"Strip," Chris says.
A beat passes, just long enough to mark that Peter is doing this because he wants to, and then Peter is rolling off the sofa, looking at Chris as he stands. He toes his boots off before pushing his jeans and boxers the rest of the way down, stepping out of them and nudging them to the side with a foot. The henley he's wearing is pulled over his head and dropped to the floor, on top of his jeans.
Chris would be lying if he said that the sight of his wolf, standing naked in front of him, in front of the pack, wasn't having an effect. He pinches the base of his cock to keep this from being over before it even starts.
Spreading his legs, Chris meets Peter's eyes. "Suck me, Peter."
There's a hitched breath at his words, and Chris doesn't know which of the girls it comes from. He's too busy watching Peter sink gracefully to his knees, too busy watching Peter lean forward, his tongue darting out to lap at Chris' cock.
And he could stay here forever, Chris thinks, with his wolf on his knees in front of him. Because Peter's good at this, at taking Chris into his mouth and working him over with teeth and tongue and lips. But the pack have already seen Peter blowing Chris, have already seen Chris covering Peter's face in his come, and they wanted a show.
"My bag--" Chris waves in the direction of where he left his bag when he came in, hearing the sounds of movement as two of the teens scramble towards it.
It's Scott that hands him the tube of lubricant, new and untouched. It's been sitting in Chris' bag ever since Stiles approached him, ever since he agreed to do this.
He flicks open the tube in one hand, patting his lap as he smirks. "Come here, Peter."
Peter straddles him, shuffling forward until their chests are bare inches apart. Chris squeezes the tube, covering his fingers in lube before they unerringly find the entrance to Peter's body, sinking inside.
"Fuck--" And that was definitely Stiles. He can't see the boy from the angle he's sitting, Peter's body blocking the sight. But he can hear the sound of skin against skin, can imagine Stiles watching, wide-eyed, as he jerks his cock in time with Chris' fingers spreading the lube into Peter's ass.
Chris pulls his fingers out, recoating them before sliding them back into Peter. Peter's forehead is against his shoulder, and his hips are making tiny hunching motions as Chris finger fucks him. Tangling his free hand in Peter's hair, Chris pulls his head up, a shudder of heat running through him as he meets eyes that are too blue, too bright. And he loves that it's him who does this to Peter, that it's him Peter reacts like this for. Loves that Peter, who yields to nothing and no one, will bend for Chris.
Leaning forward, Chris presses a kiss to Peter's chest, mouthing "Ready?" against his skin.
Peter nods, reaching down and taking the tube out of Chris' hand, squeezing some lube out before dropping the tube to the couch. He wraps his fingers around Chris' cock, slicking the lube over the hard length.
Chris hisses at the motion, Peter's touch too light and yet still too much.
"Come on, ride him." Kira's voice is breathy, and when Chris glances over it's to the sight of her thighs spread, and her hand over her pussy, two of her fingers buried inside.
Steadying Chris' cock, Peter starts to lower himself until Chris is against his asshole. And there's that moment where Chris thinks Peter's too tight, that the wolf isn't going to let him inside, and then Peter shifts slightly, his body opening around Chris.
Peter's groan as Chris slides inside is matched by Derek's, and Chris can see movement out of the corner of his eye, can see Derek squeeze at his cockhead.
Peter sinks down slowly until he's against Chris' lap, until Chris is fully inside him. And Peter doing this in front of the pack, letting everyone see him taking Chris into his body, sends a rush of thrilling possession through Chris. Chris normally banks down on that part of him, that dark streak within him that screams out Mine-- every time he looks at Peter, but not now, not here.
Because Chris doesn't need to be a wolf to smell the arousal in the air, to smell the precome, to hear the soft moans and the sound of skin moving over skin. And it makes his cock harder than ever. To know that the pack are surrounding them, watching them. To know that the claim he and Peter have on each other has never been so blatantly acknowledged as it is being now.
Peter's starting to move, lifting himself off Chris' cock to slide back down. Chris reaches out, wrapping his fingers lightly around the very tops of Peter's thighs, his thumbs brushing over Peter's ass.
"That's it, pup," he says, his fingers flexing, pulling Peter's asscheeks open so the pack can see where they're joined, can see where Chris is fucking into Peter.
"Fuck, yeah."
There are more words, more noises other than Stiles', but Chris isn't listening. He's too focused on Peter, too focused on the way Peter is tight and hot around him. Peter's rolling his hips as he rides Chris, the slick slide and the sound of Peter's ass slapping against Chris' thighs ringing through the loft. There's precome dripping from Peter's cock, soaking into Chris' t-shirt, the scent of it heavy in the air.
There's a hitch in Peter's breath as Chris wraps his fingers around him, starts to jerk Peter in the same tempo Peter's fucking himself on Chris' cock.
There's a groan that Chris recognises as Scott, and Stiles' "Yeah, Scotty," that accompanies it.
Peter's head is thrown back, his teeth biting into his lower lip as he bounces on Chris' dick. Chris speeds up, stripping Peter's cock roughly.
Peter's head snaps up, his gaze fixing on Chris. And Chris can tell he's close, can tell from the bright blue staring at him, from the stuttered hitch in Peter's breath. Twisting his fingers slightly, Chris runs his thumbnail down the length of Peter's cock, squeezing sharply at the base of Peter's cock.
Peter growls as he's denied his orgasm, a soft snarl on his lips as he glares at Chris. But Chris just smirks. Smirks, and strokes Peter again, pulling him closer and closer to the edge before refusing him again.
And fuck, his wolf is beautiful like this. With his lips open as he half growls, half whines at Chris, his body flushed as he rides Chris' cock. There are slight tremors running through Peter's thighs, and Chris wants to sink his teeth into the flesh, wants to mark Peter up in shades of red and purple, signing his name across each bruise, each mark.
Not wanting to tease Peter further, Chris strips his cock, twisting his hand as he jerks Peter. He keeps his eyes on Peter, watching as the blue in his eyes bleeds even brighter with each pass of Chris' hand. Bleeds brighter, until--
"Come on, Peter. Come for me."
Peter shudders in Chris' grip, his body clenching around Chris' cock as he comes. Hot white splatters across Chris' t-shirt, and onto his fingers, as Peter's head drops to Chris' shoulder. And the grip of Peter's ass, rippling around Chris, starts pulling his orgasm from him. Chris can feel it in the pit of his stomach, his balls tightening. He thrusts up once, twice, his hands moving back to Peter's hips, come-covered fingers leaving a streak of white across Peter's skin as he grips tightly.
Chris comes with a groan, his balls twitching as he empties himself into Peter. Peter slumps against him, breathing heavily, his spent cock trapped between them. Looking over Peter's shoulder, Chris glances around the loft. The rest of the pack are in various states of disarray, and it's obvious that they've all enjoyed watching.
The only one still hard, still stroking themselves, is Derek, his eyes focused on Peter's ass. Slowly, Chris moves his hands to Peter's ass. He keeps his gaze on Derek as he grips Peter's asscheeks, pulling them apart to reveal where his softening cock is still buried in Peter's body.
Derek's nostrils flare, sharp brightness creeping into his eyes as he watches. His hand speeds up, jacking himself roughly, staring at where Peter's hole is stretched tight around the thickness impaling him.
Nudging Peter's cheek with his own, Chris waits until there's a murmured response, waits until Peter lifts his head to look at him, the "Chris?" almost incoherent on his lips.
"Lift yourself up, pup," Chris says, his hands squeezing Peter's ass gently to urge him to move.
Peter puts his hands on Chris' chest, his thighs trembling as he pushes himself slowly up. Chris can feel his cock slipping out of Peter's body, can feel the cool air brushing over his come-slick flesh. A second later, the head of Chris' cock slides out of Peter's body, the now soft length dropping to rest on Chris' thigh.
Derek's hand is speeding over his cock, grunting breaths coming from him with each pass. "Hold him open," he asks, like he's not sure if Chris is going to.
But Chris does. Pulls Peter's asscheeks even further apart, because he wants Derek to see this. Wants Derek to see how he's marked Peter up, how Peter has let Chris mark him up.
There's a shuddered moan from Peter as Chris presses a finger just underneath his wolf's still open hole, as he feels the come starting to leak out of Peter's body.
Derek stiffens as he comes, biting back a groan before it takes shapes, biting it back in time to meet Chris eyes' and claim it was anything but his uncle's name on his lips.
Derek slumps back into the chair, come-covered fingers wrapped around himself, his eyes still on Peter, still on the way Chris is leaking from Peter's body.
Slicking his fingers through the come trailing from Peter's ass, Chris rubs it over Peter's hole, sharp little breaths coming from Peter with each brush of Chris' fingers. He squirms in Chris' grip until he leans forward and Chris feels sharp teeth nipping at his earlobe. Huffing a laugh at Peter's petulant response, Chris eases him back down until Peter is once again sitting on his thighs.
Peter looks at him, and Chris is sure his wolf is having difficulty focusing, his gaze heavy and sated. Lifting a hand to Peter's face, Chris cups Peter's cheek, smiling when Peter turns into the touch, nuzzling at his palm.
"Won't make it so easy for you next time, Argent." The words are slurred against Chris' skin. "Make you work for it. Really give them something to watch."
"I'm sure you will, pup," Chris replies. He can't wait.