Fic: And here we will remain, Teen Wolf, Chris Argent / Peter Hale
Title: And here we will remain
Author: Claire
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s): Chris Argent / Peter Hale
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,394
Summary: In which Peter drags Chris down a back alley
Additional Notes: Beta'ed by Temaris. Title from Knock Me Out by Linda Perry and Grace Slick.
And here we will remain
The thing about Peter, Chris thinks, is that he makes it far too easy to get into situations you hadn't even considered twenty minutes previously. Tonight, for example. There he'd been, thirty minutes previously, thinking it was just the two of them, edging around the east side of town on their part of the nightly patrol, and his hand maybe brushing against Peter's as they walked. And now he's leaning against a wall in a back alley that smelled like something had died in it, with Peter on his knees in front of him, fishing Chris' cock out of his jeans and grinning like he's just won the lottery.
"Fuck, Peter--" Because they've got a perfectly good apartment they could be doing this in, two perfectly good apartments they could be doing this in. Neither of which smell of piss and trash and have what Chris is sure is a decomposing rat three feet away from them.
But Peter just looks at him, eyes bright as he smirks. "Come on, Christopher. Don't you want to? You used to love dragging me into alleys when we were younger."
But that was when they were teenagers, when they were getting away from their families, away from Gerard, away from Talia. When Chris would take Peter's hand and pull him along into alleyways, away from prying eyes. When Peter's back would be against the wall and Chris' hand would be down his jeans, jerking him slowly. And Chris would watch as Peter fell apart, would watch as Peter would shiver and beg, eyes wide and pleading with Chris to go faster. But he wouldn't. He'd slow down, his hand moving over Peter's cock as slowly as he could, just to see the bright blue spread in Peter's eyes, just feel the wolf writhe under his touch. And when Peter finally came, when he'd shake apart and cover Chris' fingers in come, Chris would hold his messy hand up to Peter's face and have him lick his own essence off Chris' skin.
So maybe this is payback. Maybe Peter's been waiting for this for years. Maybe he's been waiting for the perfect opportunity and the perfect alley to watch Chris fall apart. Maybe he's been playing the long game ever since Chris first pulled him down an alley, since Chris first pressed him against a wall and watched him shudder his way to orgasm.
Peter trails a finger over Chris' hardening cock, tracing delicate patterns over the shaft as he licks his lower lip.
Or maybe he's just a horny bastard who likes sucking Chris' cock. Knowing Peter as well as Chris does (and no matter how much Chris may want to deny it at times, he does know Peter), either possibility's an option, at this point. Hell, it's Peter, so it's probably both.
"Well, Chris, should I walk away now? Leave you to propriety?" He leans forward, warm breath ghosting over Chris' cock. "Or do you want me to stay on my knees?"
He looks up at Chris, eyes wide. And Chris wonders how Peter Hale can look so fucking innocent. How a man with blood on his hands and his tongue less than an inch from Chris' hard cock can look so fucking pure. But then, Peter always was a chameleon, able to change himself to any given situation. Able to fit in, slide in, no matter the surrounding circumstances. It's always been why he's so dangerous. It's always been why Chris is so interested.
Reaching out, Chris tangles his fingers in Peter's hair, tugging the wolf's head back. "Stop talking, Peter. There are better uses for that smart mouth of yours."
Peter's grin is sharp as he pulls against Chris' grip, moving forward to catch Chris' cockhead between his teeth.
Chris groans as he slides into Peter's mouth, hot and wet. And Peter's always been so fucking good at this, so fucking good at being on his knees. He feels Peter's hands on his thighs, the other man balancing himself against Chris as he sucks his dick.
Peter's tongue runs around the crown of Chris' cock, runs over the head to flick at his slit. Chris can't stop his eyes from closing briefly, can't stop his head from falling back to rest on the brickwork behind him for long moments. But a moan from Peter, low and careful and vibrating through Chris' cock, has him opening them again, has him looking down at the man on his knees in front of him.
Chris will never tire of seeing Peter like this: kneeling, with Chris' dick in his mouth, looking like it's the most perfect place to be. And, as much as Chris loves seeing Peter naked and spread out for him, as much as he loves seeing Peter bent over and held down with Chris' hand on the back of his neck, there's something about this. Something about Peter, about the man that's always put together so perfectly, groomed so perfectly, on his knees in a filthy back alley sucking Chris' dick. Something about the fingers curled around Chris' thighs, pinpricks edging through the denim because Peter can't quite keep the wolf under control. Something about the fact that Peter Hale goes to his knees willingly for Chris every time. That Peter, who submits to nothing and no one, kneels for Chris.
Chris loosens his grip on Peter's hair, running his fingers through the strands before he slides his hand down to cup Peter's cheek, his thumb rubbing over the corner of Peter's lips. And it doesn't take much to slide his thumb into Peter's mouth, to slide it in alongside his cock. Doesn't take much for Peter's tongue to move between Chris' cock and Chris' thumb, flicking over one and then the other.
Peter's working him with tongue and teeth and lips, and it's a slow roll starting in Chris' belly. Pulling his thumb out of Peter's mouth, Chris moves his hand back to Peter's hair, gripping him tightly as he slides his cock out of the wolf's mouth, a string of saliva and precome connecting them for a second before it finally breaks.
"Keep your mouth open," he says, wrapping his free hand around his cock.
Part of him wants to aim for Peter's face, wants to mark Peter up with his come. But they're still ten minutes away from Chris' truck, and as much as it makes something in Chris flare bright and hot and possessive, Peter would bitch about having to make the walk back covered in Chris' come.
He jacks himself roughly, feeling his balls pull, feeling it boiling in the pit of his stomach. It only takes a few strokes of his cock before he's coming, aiming for Peter's mouth and covering his tongue in white.
Peter holds the come in his mouth until Chris is finished, holds it as he looks at Chris and swallows it down, smirking and licking his lips as he gets to his feet. It's the sight of Peter's tongue, sweeping along his lower lip, that has Chris reaching out. He grabs Peter's shirt and pulls him close enough to capture Peter's lips, tasting his come on Peter's tongue. Peter moans into the kiss, rubbing against Chris. Chris can feel Peter's hardness, trapped and straining behind denim rubbing against his own sensitive cock.
Breaking the kiss, Chris nudges Peter back slightly, ignoring the soft, sub-vocal whine that comes from Peter's throat. Nudges Peter back and goes to tuck himself back into his jeans. Chris is pulling his zipper up when Peter reaches for his own belt. And Chris is smacking his hands away before he can think about it.
There's a soft snarl on Peter's lips when he glares at Chris, but Chris ignores it. Ignores it and leans forward, his mouth a hair's breadth away from Peter's ear.
"Don't. I want you hard when we get back to mine, Peter. I want you hard and begging." Because if Peter is good on his knees, then he's fucking amazing when he's spread out under Chris, needy and wanting.
Peter growls, low and almost inaudible, but his hands stay away from his crotch.
"Good boy," Chris murmurs, before pulling back, before taking Peter's hand in his and pulling him out of the alley. Before taking Peter's hand in his and pulling him towards home.
Author: Claire
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s): Chris Argent / Peter Hale
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,394
Summary: In which Peter drags Chris down a back alley
Additional Notes: Beta'ed by Temaris. Title from Knock Me Out by Linda Perry and Grace Slick.
And here we will remain
The thing about Peter, Chris thinks, is that he makes it far too easy to get into situations you hadn't even considered twenty minutes previously. Tonight, for example. There he'd been, thirty minutes previously, thinking it was just the two of them, edging around the east side of town on their part of the nightly patrol, and his hand maybe brushing against Peter's as they walked. And now he's leaning against a wall in a back alley that smelled like something had died in it, with Peter on his knees in front of him, fishing Chris' cock out of his jeans and grinning like he's just won the lottery.
"Fuck, Peter--" Because they've got a perfectly good apartment they could be doing this in, two perfectly good apartments they could be doing this in. Neither of which smell of piss and trash and have what Chris is sure is a decomposing rat three feet away from them.
But Peter just looks at him, eyes bright as he smirks. "Come on, Christopher. Don't you want to? You used to love dragging me into alleys when we were younger."
But that was when they were teenagers, when they were getting away from their families, away from Gerard, away from Talia. When Chris would take Peter's hand and pull him along into alleyways, away from prying eyes. When Peter's back would be against the wall and Chris' hand would be down his jeans, jerking him slowly. And Chris would watch as Peter fell apart, would watch as Peter would shiver and beg, eyes wide and pleading with Chris to go faster. But he wouldn't. He'd slow down, his hand moving over Peter's cock as slowly as he could, just to see the bright blue spread in Peter's eyes, just feel the wolf writhe under his touch. And when Peter finally came, when he'd shake apart and cover Chris' fingers in come, Chris would hold his messy hand up to Peter's face and have him lick his own essence off Chris' skin.
So maybe this is payback. Maybe Peter's been waiting for this for years. Maybe he's been waiting for the perfect opportunity and the perfect alley to watch Chris fall apart. Maybe he's been playing the long game ever since Chris first pulled him down an alley, since Chris first pressed him against a wall and watched him shudder his way to orgasm.
Peter trails a finger over Chris' hardening cock, tracing delicate patterns over the shaft as he licks his lower lip.
Or maybe he's just a horny bastard who likes sucking Chris' cock. Knowing Peter as well as Chris does (and no matter how much Chris may want to deny it at times, he does know Peter), either possibility's an option, at this point. Hell, it's Peter, so it's probably both.
"Well, Chris, should I walk away now? Leave you to propriety?" He leans forward, warm breath ghosting over Chris' cock. "Or do you want me to stay on my knees?"
He looks up at Chris, eyes wide. And Chris wonders how Peter Hale can look so fucking innocent. How a man with blood on his hands and his tongue less than an inch from Chris' hard cock can look so fucking pure. But then, Peter always was a chameleon, able to change himself to any given situation. Able to fit in, slide in, no matter the surrounding circumstances. It's always been why he's so dangerous. It's always been why Chris is so interested.
Reaching out, Chris tangles his fingers in Peter's hair, tugging the wolf's head back. "Stop talking, Peter. There are better uses for that smart mouth of yours."
Peter's grin is sharp as he pulls against Chris' grip, moving forward to catch Chris' cockhead between his teeth.
Chris groans as he slides into Peter's mouth, hot and wet. And Peter's always been so fucking good at this, so fucking good at being on his knees. He feels Peter's hands on his thighs, the other man balancing himself against Chris as he sucks his dick.
Peter's tongue runs around the crown of Chris' cock, runs over the head to flick at his slit. Chris can't stop his eyes from closing briefly, can't stop his head from falling back to rest on the brickwork behind him for long moments. But a moan from Peter, low and careful and vibrating through Chris' cock, has him opening them again, has him looking down at the man on his knees in front of him.
Chris will never tire of seeing Peter like this: kneeling, with Chris' dick in his mouth, looking like it's the most perfect place to be. And, as much as Chris loves seeing Peter naked and spread out for him, as much as he loves seeing Peter bent over and held down with Chris' hand on the back of his neck, there's something about this. Something about Peter, about the man that's always put together so perfectly, groomed so perfectly, on his knees in a filthy back alley sucking Chris' dick. Something about the fingers curled around Chris' thighs, pinpricks edging through the denim because Peter can't quite keep the wolf under control. Something about the fact that Peter Hale goes to his knees willingly for Chris every time. That Peter, who submits to nothing and no one, kneels for Chris.
Chris loosens his grip on Peter's hair, running his fingers through the strands before he slides his hand down to cup Peter's cheek, his thumb rubbing over the corner of Peter's lips. And it doesn't take much to slide his thumb into Peter's mouth, to slide it in alongside his cock. Doesn't take much for Peter's tongue to move between Chris' cock and Chris' thumb, flicking over one and then the other.
Peter's working him with tongue and teeth and lips, and it's a slow roll starting in Chris' belly. Pulling his thumb out of Peter's mouth, Chris moves his hand back to Peter's hair, gripping him tightly as he slides his cock out of the wolf's mouth, a string of saliva and precome connecting them for a second before it finally breaks.
"Keep your mouth open," he says, wrapping his free hand around his cock.
Part of him wants to aim for Peter's face, wants to mark Peter up with his come. But they're still ten minutes away from Chris' truck, and as much as it makes something in Chris flare bright and hot and possessive, Peter would bitch about having to make the walk back covered in Chris' come.
He jacks himself roughly, feeling his balls pull, feeling it boiling in the pit of his stomach. It only takes a few strokes of his cock before he's coming, aiming for Peter's mouth and covering his tongue in white.
Peter holds the come in his mouth until Chris is finished, holds it as he looks at Chris and swallows it down, smirking and licking his lips as he gets to his feet. It's the sight of Peter's tongue, sweeping along his lower lip, that has Chris reaching out. He grabs Peter's shirt and pulls him close enough to capture Peter's lips, tasting his come on Peter's tongue. Peter moans into the kiss, rubbing against Chris. Chris can feel Peter's hardness, trapped and straining behind denim rubbing against his own sensitive cock.
Breaking the kiss, Chris nudges Peter back slightly, ignoring the soft, sub-vocal whine that comes from Peter's throat. Nudges Peter back and goes to tuck himself back into his jeans. Chris is pulling his zipper up when Peter reaches for his own belt. And Chris is smacking his hands away before he can think about it.
There's a soft snarl on Peter's lips when he glares at Chris, but Chris ignores it. Ignores it and leans forward, his mouth a hair's breadth away from Peter's ear.
"Don't. I want you hard when we get back to mine, Peter. I want you hard and begging." Because if Peter is good on his knees, then he's fucking amazing when he's spread out under Chris, needy and wanting.
Peter growls, low and almost inaudible, but his hands stay away from his crotch.
"Good boy," Chris murmurs, before pulling back, before taking Peter's hand in his and pulling him out of the alley. Before taking Peter's hand in his and pulling him towards home.