Fic: Songs of the Digital Age, Teen Wolf, Chris Argent / Peter Hale
Title: Songs of the Digital Age
Author: Claire
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s): Chris Argent / Peter Hale, Chris Argent / Victoria Argent, Peter Hale / Others
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,313
Summary: In which Peter makes porn videos and Chris keeps visiting a certain website
Additional Notes: Beta'ed by Temaris.
Songs of the Digital Age
Chris only does this when Allison isn't in. Only does it on days when she's spending the night at Lydia's or Kira's, or when the pack are all crashing at one of the houses.
He has a routine for this now. He waits until an hour after Allison has left, his eyes unable to keep from glancing at the clock and his fingers beating a steady tattoo against his thigh the closer to his self-imposed deadline that it gets. Once the hour is up, he checks all the windows, making sure the lines of mountain ash aren't disturbed. Then he checks the door, checks the security system is on and ready for any possible unexpected visitors.
Then, and only then, does he head through into his office.
He sits down at his desk as he turns his computer on, leaning back as he waits for it to boot up. His fingers are already at his belt, undoing the buckle and letting it dangle. Snapping open the buttons on his jeans, Chris slides his hand inside, pressing his palm down briefly on his still soft cock.
Once his computer's turned on, it's just a few clicks to get through to the website he wants.
Chris has never made any secret of the fact he likes men just as much as he likes women, never kept it secret from Victoria, who had just smiled and told him she'd cut his balls off if she ever found him fooling around, no matter the genitalia of the other person involved. She certainly didn't mind him thinking about it, though. Didn't mind wrapping her fingers around his cock as she murmured in his ear about how she'd love to see him pin down another man, love to see him drive into a tight ass.
When they'd first come to Beacon Hills, all those years ago, when Talia had just become the Alpha, Vic used to tease him about Peter Hale. Back before Katie went too far, back before the Hale house fire, back before Scott McCall took a walk in the woods or first laid eyes on Allison. She'd tease him about how the Alpha's seventeen year old brother had taken one look at Chris when they'd passed him in town and nearly fallen over his own feet, werewolf grace be damned.
They'd known who he was as soon as they'd seen him, photos of all of the Hales sitting back at their house. But they weren't there to hunt, only to make sure the change in Pack Alpha had no negative repercussions. (Not that Vic had thought it would. She'd met Talia Hale, years ago when Talia had accompanied her mother to one of the far too infrequent hunter-werewolf meetings, years ago when Vic had accompanied Chris' mom. Solid and fair, Vic had declared when she'd come back. And with a wicked sense of humour that Vic had only seen a glimpse of. Vic had had little doubt that Talia would make an excellent Alpha, but, still, checks had to be made. Boxes ticked and the rest of the hunter community reassured that, no, the Hale pack wasn't about to go on a murderous rampage due to the change in management.)
So, yes, they'd known exactly who Peter Hale was, which was why Vic was so amused at his apparent crush on her husband. They'd see him around town, always furtively glancing in Chris' direction, causing Vic to comment that she hoped he was more subtle when he was hunting rabbits than he was when he was hunting cock. And then she'd remind Chris of the promise she made when they'd first got serious with each other, remind him of how very sharp she kept her blades.
But reminding Chris didn't stop her from the teasing. Didn't stop her from wrapping her fingers around his cock when they were in bed, didn't stop her from whispering in Chris' ear about whether or not Peter was a virgin, asking if Chris thought if the wolf had ever taken a cock in his mouth. She'd jack Chris slowly, her voice low as she spoke, as she asked Chris if he ever wondered what it would be like sliding into Peter, about being the first person to fuck him. Maybe we should get some friends to come to town, she'd say. Maybe you could save him out in the forest. Maybe he'd be so grateful he'd slide to his knees.
And Chris would close his eyes and imagine it. Imagine Peter Hale sinking to his knees in gratitude, about shaking fingers reaching out to undo Chris' jeans. About how the blowjob would be messy and inexperienced, but oh so enthusiastic. About how Peter would look with Chris' come dripping off his face.
Peter was always the one Vic would default to when she wanted to have Chris shaking apart under her hand. Commenting about whether he'd found someone to fuck him yet, about whether he'd always be virgin-tight because of werewolf healing. Curling her fingers around Chris' cock and stroking him to completion while she murmured about whether anyone had taught Peter how to be on his knees yet.
Chris has had the thought of Peter Hale in his mind for years, so when he'd found this, when he'd clicked on a link and seen the photo, he'd had his credit card in his hand within a minute, typing in his details and agreeing to them taking 30 bucks a month from him.
He hadn't really started visiting porn sites until after he'd lost Vic. He'd never needed them before, had only needed her honeyed words in his ear as she'd spun tales about Chris fucking his way into a tight body, about sloppy blowjobs and men on their knees while Chris leaned against his SUV.
And then Vic had been gone, and he'd lost one of the most perfect things in his life.
The first time he'd tried to jerk off after her death, his wedding ring had felt heavy on his hand, and the silence was all too apparent. He'd ended up pulling his hand away from his cock, kicking the covers off his bed and just trying to sleep.
It had taken months after before his first venture into internet porn. He'd been researching something else entirely, trying to focus his attention on the screen instead of thinking about Peter Hale and the ridiculously tight jeans he'd worn to the pack meeting. (And he's not sure if Vic would slap him or congratulate him, regarding the fact that he and Allison were now both part of the Hale-McCall pack.)
Peter had been there, denim stretched tight across his ass and wearing a shirt with far too many buttons undone for someone who wasn't swinging around a pole in Jungle. And there's still something there, if the looks Peter kept throwing Chris were any indication, all temptation and want wrapped in fur and claw.
His mind had been supplying all sorts of images. Peter on his knees with his lips around Chris' cock, Peter holding himself open for Chris to press inside, Peter straddling Chris as he sank down on Chris' dick. So much so that Chris finally just unzipped his jeans to release his hard cock to the air.
He'd been sitting there with his dick in his hand, and his computer right beside him. And he's not entirely sure what had made him go looking for the porn sites. (Although he has a good idea it was probably the conversation Stiles had been having with Scott during the meeting that Chris had been desperately trying to tune out.)
The first site hadn't done much for him, a lot of photos of women with overly inflated breasts. But from there he'd clicked a link, and then another link, and then another, jumping from website to website until he'd been sat there, stunned and disbelieving, before he'd grabbed his credit card and bought a membership.
The still on the front page, the one advertising the Brand new video, just uploaded had been Peter. And Chris didn't know why (because it's not like Peter needs the money) or when (although not that long ago, given the neatly styled facial hair and the fact that Chris was sure he'd seen Peter wearing just that shirt a few weeks ago) or how (because Chris doesn't know where Peter got the contacts from that are turning his eyes a duller shade of blue than they actually are and letting him look into the camera, come dribbling from his mouth and streaked over his nose, and no sign of any bright flashes anywhere), but it was definitely Peter.
Once he'd had an account set up and paid for, he'd clicked through to the video. Clicked through to thirty minutes of Peter on his knees in front of three guys, sucking them all enthusiastically and swallowing each of them down when they came, his head tilted back as they aimed for his mouth, ropes of come landing on his tongue and slipping down his throat.
Chris had been hard pretty much from the start, pretty much from the moment Peter sank to his knees. He'd stroked himself slowly as Peter sucked the first guy, teeth and tongue and lips working over cock and balls. Part of him had wondered if the guy would be so enthusiastic about sticking his dick down Peter's throat if he knew what Peter was, if he knew that Peter's teeth could tear flesh from bone in seconds. Peter had pulled back as the guy had come, opening his mouth to catch the spurts of white aimed at him.
The sight of Peter on his knees, come dripping from his lips, had almost had Chris coming. It had only been Chris pinching the base of his cock that had stopped him from tipping over the edge. He'd calmed his breathing by the time the second guy entered the picture. This one had taken what he'd wanted from Peter, holding Peter's head in his hands as he roughly fucked Peter's mouth. Chris had found himself jacking himself in time with the thrusts into Peter's throat, only slowing down when he'd felt his orgasm start to build again. Slowing down as the guy on the screen added his load to Peter's face, walking away as Peter scraped the come off his face with his fingers and licked them clean.
The last guy had been much like the second, not even speaking to Peter before he'd had Peter's head in his hands and his cock in Peter's mouth. When he'd come, he'd pulled back just enough that Chris could see each rope of come landing on Peter's tongue, just enough that Chris could see Peter swallowing it down.
The camera had lingered on Peter after his partners had left, lingered on him as he'd pulled his hard cock out of his jeans and jerked himself off, a streak of come still visible on his cheek. His head tilted back and his eyes closed and fucking sinful moans coming from his lips, and Chris had watched as Peter fucked up into his own fist.
Chris had come before Peter did, spilling into his fingers seconds before Peter followed. The video had ended with Peter's head forward, his fingers around his softening cock and his heavy breathing the only thing audible.
After the video was done, after it was prompting Chris to either replay it or watch others with a similar theme, Chris had stared at the webpage for long moments. Stared, and then clicked on the link taking him to the page with other videos of Peter. (Not that the site was calling him Peter. But he can't look at the man and think Michael, not when he knows it's Peter.) The page listed a dozen other videos, all differing lengths, all with different scenarios. Chris had upgraded his account to get the download functionality without even blinking at the extortionate cost.
But the reason Chris is back on the website tonight, the reason he smiled and nodded and told Allison to have fun at Lydia's, is because there's a new video. He tracks Peter's tag on the website, e-mail notifications coming through to him when something new is uploaded. There's a voice in his head calling him as stalker, a voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Vic. But she always seems to be laughing when she calls him it, more amused than anything.
His fingers are around his cock as he clicks through to Peter's page on the website, clicks through to the newly uploaded video.
It starts with Peter just talking to the camera, answering questions being given to him by an anonymous voice off screen.
He tells them his name is Michael (lie), that he works in a bar (definite lie), that he loves taking cock in any way he can (from the videos Chris has seen, he'll give Peter this one) and that this is his twelfth video for them. The section ends with Peter smirking at something the guy off-screen says. And Chris doesn't care who the wolf is claiming to be, that tiny snarl that he just doesn't hide quickly enough before the screen fades to black gives it all away.
Peter is sitting on a bed when the video kicks back in, and it could be one of a thousand hotel rooms in a thousand different places, all as carefully generic as the next.
Peter is still until two men walk in, one of them heading straight to him. They don't bother with niceties, don't bother with meaningless chatter. Don't bother with anything except Peter's hands going straight the other guy's belt, with tugging it out of the way, so he can open the jeans in front of him and wrap his fingers around the guy's cock, pulling it out carefully.
The guy's hands are in Peter's hair, trailing through the soft strands as he tugs Peter forward, as Peter opens his lips and swallows him down. The other one stands next to him, cock already out, and Peter swaps between them, leaving both of them hard and wet with his saliva.
Unlike the last couple of Peter's videos, this one doesn't end with blow jobs, doesn't end with Peter on his knees and a face full of come, while he jerks off alone. They strip Peter efficiently, shirt and jeans and the tight boxer briefs that hug his ass all ending up on the floor.
Chris speeds up his tempo when one of them pushes his fingers into Peter's ass, slick with lube. Stroking his cock and slicking his precome over hard flesh as Peter whines and moans and pushes back into the touch.
The two of them have their fingers in Peter's ass. First one, then the other, and finally both together, as they stretch out Peter's body. One of them slaps Peter's ass lightly when they're done, not hard enough to leave a mark, and Chris can't help but think about how, if it was him, he'd make sure Peter work his mark, make sure Peter had a red handprint on his ass, even if it would just be for long moments before it would fade into nothing.
The camera zooms in on the hard cock of one of the guys, zooms in on his rolling a condom over himself, before it pans back out. Peter's on the bed, ass up high and looking back over his shoulder, soft grin on his face. And whoever is working the camera knows exactly what they're doing. Knows exactly to keep the focus on Peter's face as the guy first pushes into his ass, to see Peter's eyes flutter and his mouth open when a dick is pushed inside him.
The guy fucking Peter starts off gentle, but he doesn't stay that way. Ends up driving into Peter in a way that has low groans falling from Peter's lips with each thrust.
And Chris almost growls when the second guy moves to gag Peter with his dick. Because Chris wants those sounds, wants to hear Peter whimper and moan as he's broken open on someone's cock.
But maybe this is almost as good. Because the thrusts into Peter's ass are pushing him onto that cock, forcing it down his throat in a way that has him almost gagging. And, oh, the sounds Peter is making right now.
Chris reaches out with his left hand and grabs his mouse, awkwardly fumbling with it to turn up the volume on the computer, until it feels like he's surrounded by those noises.
His dick is twitching with each moan, with each wet gasp, with each slick slap of flesh against flesh. He can feel it building inside him, can feel the tight pull of his balls, and the burning starting low in his belly.
Peter is writhing between the two men impaling him, pushed and pulled from either side and unable to escape from being spitted by a cock no matter which direction he goes. He's shaking now, and the camera pans over his body, the tremors running through him visible on film.
Chris is jerking himself roughly, imagining that it's him pushing into Peter, that it's him fucking the wolf and making him shake.
Peter is shuddering almost continuously, drool running down his chin as his face is fucked almost as quickly as his ass is. The guy fucking Peter's ass reaches around, wraps his fingers around Peter's cock and tugs.
Peter yells around the cock in his mouth as he comes, voice muffled and the sound choked back with each thrust as he splatters the bed below him with white. He shakes through his orgasm, two sets of hands moving to his body to hold him up, to keep him in place as they keep fucking him.
Chris groans when he sees Peter come, groans and tightens his grip on his cock, feeling it inside him, ready to tip over the edge. He flicks his thumb over his cockhead and that's it. He shouts as come runs over his fingers, spurting out to hit the edge of his desk. Shouts as he shakes in his own grip, shouts as he thinks about Peter there to take it all.
Both of the other guys have come by the time Chris pulls himself together and turns his attention back to the video. Peter is lying facedown on the bed, come stripped across his back as the camera pans back slightly and the video ends.
Chris reaches out for the tissues on his desk, cleaning himself up before tucking himself back into his jeans. He swipes the tissue across his desk, wiping up the come that was there, before throwing the tissue in the trash.
His breathing still calming, he downloads the video, saving it in the folder where all of the other videos of Peter are stored.
Turning off the computer, Chris leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. The past few pack meetings, Peter has been casting glances in Chris' direction, and Chris is more than sure that there's something still there on the wolf's side, something that still draws Peter to Chris.
Maybe next time, when the wolf looks at him, Chris will look back. Maybe next time he'll follow Peter out of the pack meeting. Maybe he'll tell him that he's seen Peter on his knees, on his back. That he's seen him with his mouth open and his face covered in come, used and spread and wrecked with his legs wide and moaning softly. Maybe he'll finally get to try out all those things Vic used to whisper to him in the middle of the night.
Maybe he might just keep Peter for his very own.
Maybe.
Author: Claire
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s): Chris Argent / Peter Hale, Chris Argent / Victoria Argent, Peter Hale / Others
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,313
Summary: In which Peter makes porn videos and Chris keeps visiting a certain website
Additional Notes: Beta'ed by Temaris.
Songs of the Digital Age
Chris only does this when Allison isn't in. Only does it on days when she's spending the night at Lydia's or Kira's, or when the pack are all crashing at one of the houses.
He has a routine for this now. He waits until an hour after Allison has left, his eyes unable to keep from glancing at the clock and his fingers beating a steady tattoo against his thigh the closer to his self-imposed deadline that it gets. Once the hour is up, he checks all the windows, making sure the lines of mountain ash aren't disturbed. Then he checks the door, checks the security system is on and ready for any possible unexpected visitors.
Then, and only then, does he head through into his office.
He sits down at his desk as he turns his computer on, leaning back as he waits for it to boot up. His fingers are already at his belt, undoing the buckle and letting it dangle. Snapping open the buttons on his jeans, Chris slides his hand inside, pressing his palm down briefly on his still soft cock.
Once his computer's turned on, it's just a few clicks to get through to the website he wants.
Chris has never made any secret of the fact he likes men just as much as he likes women, never kept it secret from Victoria, who had just smiled and told him she'd cut his balls off if she ever found him fooling around, no matter the genitalia of the other person involved. She certainly didn't mind him thinking about it, though. Didn't mind wrapping her fingers around his cock as she murmured in his ear about how she'd love to see him pin down another man, love to see him drive into a tight ass.
When they'd first come to Beacon Hills, all those years ago, when Talia had just become the Alpha, Vic used to tease him about Peter Hale. Back before Katie went too far, back before the Hale house fire, back before Scott McCall took a walk in the woods or first laid eyes on Allison. She'd tease him about how the Alpha's seventeen year old brother had taken one look at Chris when they'd passed him in town and nearly fallen over his own feet, werewolf grace be damned.
They'd known who he was as soon as they'd seen him, photos of all of the Hales sitting back at their house. But they weren't there to hunt, only to make sure the change in Pack Alpha had no negative repercussions. (Not that Vic had thought it would. She'd met Talia Hale, years ago when Talia had accompanied her mother to one of the far too infrequent hunter-werewolf meetings, years ago when Vic had accompanied Chris' mom. Solid and fair, Vic had declared when she'd come back. And with a wicked sense of humour that Vic had only seen a glimpse of. Vic had had little doubt that Talia would make an excellent Alpha, but, still, checks had to be made. Boxes ticked and the rest of the hunter community reassured that, no, the Hale pack wasn't about to go on a murderous rampage due to the change in management.)
So, yes, they'd known exactly who Peter Hale was, which was why Vic was so amused at his apparent crush on her husband. They'd see him around town, always furtively glancing in Chris' direction, causing Vic to comment that she hoped he was more subtle when he was hunting rabbits than he was when he was hunting cock. And then she'd remind Chris of the promise she made when they'd first got serious with each other, remind him of how very sharp she kept her blades.
But reminding Chris didn't stop her from the teasing. Didn't stop her from wrapping her fingers around his cock when they were in bed, didn't stop her from whispering in Chris' ear about whether or not Peter was a virgin, asking if Chris thought if the wolf had ever taken a cock in his mouth. She'd jack Chris slowly, her voice low as she spoke, as she asked Chris if he ever wondered what it would be like sliding into Peter, about being the first person to fuck him. Maybe we should get some friends to come to town, she'd say. Maybe you could save him out in the forest. Maybe he'd be so grateful he'd slide to his knees.
And Chris would close his eyes and imagine it. Imagine Peter Hale sinking to his knees in gratitude, about shaking fingers reaching out to undo Chris' jeans. About how the blowjob would be messy and inexperienced, but oh so enthusiastic. About how Peter would look with Chris' come dripping off his face.
Peter was always the one Vic would default to when she wanted to have Chris shaking apart under her hand. Commenting about whether he'd found someone to fuck him yet, about whether he'd always be virgin-tight because of werewolf healing. Curling her fingers around Chris' cock and stroking him to completion while she murmured about whether anyone had taught Peter how to be on his knees yet.
Chris has had the thought of Peter Hale in his mind for years, so when he'd found this, when he'd clicked on a link and seen the photo, he'd had his credit card in his hand within a minute, typing in his details and agreeing to them taking 30 bucks a month from him.
He hadn't really started visiting porn sites until after he'd lost Vic. He'd never needed them before, had only needed her honeyed words in his ear as she'd spun tales about Chris fucking his way into a tight body, about sloppy blowjobs and men on their knees while Chris leaned against his SUV.
And then Vic had been gone, and he'd lost one of the most perfect things in his life.
The first time he'd tried to jerk off after her death, his wedding ring had felt heavy on his hand, and the silence was all too apparent. He'd ended up pulling his hand away from his cock, kicking the covers off his bed and just trying to sleep.
It had taken months after before his first venture into internet porn. He'd been researching something else entirely, trying to focus his attention on the screen instead of thinking about Peter Hale and the ridiculously tight jeans he'd worn to the pack meeting. (And he's not sure if Vic would slap him or congratulate him, regarding the fact that he and Allison were now both part of the Hale-McCall pack.)
Peter had been there, denim stretched tight across his ass and wearing a shirt with far too many buttons undone for someone who wasn't swinging around a pole in Jungle. And there's still something there, if the looks Peter kept throwing Chris were any indication, all temptation and want wrapped in fur and claw.
His mind had been supplying all sorts of images. Peter on his knees with his lips around Chris' cock, Peter holding himself open for Chris to press inside, Peter straddling Chris as he sank down on Chris' dick. So much so that Chris finally just unzipped his jeans to release his hard cock to the air.
He'd been sitting there with his dick in his hand, and his computer right beside him. And he's not entirely sure what had made him go looking for the porn sites. (Although he has a good idea it was probably the conversation Stiles had been having with Scott during the meeting that Chris had been desperately trying to tune out.)
The first site hadn't done much for him, a lot of photos of women with overly inflated breasts. But from there he'd clicked a link, and then another link, and then another, jumping from website to website until he'd been sat there, stunned and disbelieving, before he'd grabbed his credit card and bought a membership.
The still on the front page, the one advertising the Brand new video, just uploaded had been Peter. And Chris didn't know why (because it's not like Peter needs the money) or when (although not that long ago, given the neatly styled facial hair and the fact that Chris was sure he'd seen Peter wearing just that shirt a few weeks ago) or how (because Chris doesn't know where Peter got the contacts from that are turning his eyes a duller shade of blue than they actually are and letting him look into the camera, come dribbling from his mouth and streaked over his nose, and no sign of any bright flashes anywhere), but it was definitely Peter.
Once he'd had an account set up and paid for, he'd clicked through to the video. Clicked through to thirty minutes of Peter on his knees in front of three guys, sucking them all enthusiastically and swallowing each of them down when they came, his head tilted back as they aimed for his mouth, ropes of come landing on his tongue and slipping down his throat.
Chris had been hard pretty much from the start, pretty much from the moment Peter sank to his knees. He'd stroked himself slowly as Peter sucked the first guy, teeth and tongue and lips working over cock and balls. Part of him had wondered if the guy would be so enthusiastic about sticking his dick down Peter's throat if he knew what Peter was, if he knew that Peter's teeth could tear flesh from bone in seconds. Peter had pulled back as the guy had come, opening his mouth to catch the spurts of white aimed at him.
The sight of Peter on his knees, come dripping from his lips, had almost had Chris coming. It had only been Chris pinching the base of his cock that had stopped him from tipping over the edge. He'd calmed his breathing by the time the second guy entered the picture. This one had taken what he'd wanted from Peter, holding Peter's head in his hands as he roughly fucked Peter's mouth. Chris had found himself jacking himself in time with the thrusts into Peter's throat, only slowing down when he'd felt his orgasm start to build again. Slowing down as the guy on the screen added his load to Peter's face, walking away as Peter scraped the come off his face with his fingers and licked them clean.
The last guy had been much like the second, not even speaking to Peter before he'd had Peter's head in his hands and his cock in Peter's mouth. When he'd come, he'd pulled back just enough that Chris could see each rope of come landing on Peter's tongue, just enough that Chris could see Peter swallowing it down.
The camera had lingered on Peter after his partners had left, lingered on him as he'd pulled his hard cock out of his jeans and jerked himself off, a streak of come still visible on his cheek. His head tilted back and his eyes closed and fucking sinful moans coming from his lips, and Chris had watched as Peter fucked up into his own fist.
Chris had come before Peter did, spilling into his fingers seconds before Peter followed. The video had ended with Peter's head forward, his fingers around his softening cock and his heavy breathing the only thing audible.
After the video was done, after it was prompting Chris to either replay it or watch others with a similar theme, Chris had stared at the webpage for long moments. Stared, and then clicked on the link taking him to the page with other videos of Peter. (Not that the site was calling him Peter. But he can't look at the man and think Michael, not when he knows it's Peter.) The page listed a dozen other videos, all differing lengths, all with different scenarios. Chris had upgraded his account to get the download functionality without even blinking at the extortionate cost.
But the reason Chris is back on the website tonight, the reason he smiled and nodded and told Allison to have fun at Lydia's, is because there's a new video. He tracks Peter's tag on the website, e-mail notifications coming through to him when something new is uploaded. There's a voice in his head calling him as stalker, a voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Vic. But she always seems to be laughing when she calls him it, more amused than anything.
His fingers are around his cock as he clicks through to Peter's page on the website, clicks through to the newly uploaded video.
It starts with Peter just talking to the camera, answering questions being given to him by an anonymous voice off screen.
He tells them his name is Michael (lie), that he works in a bar (definite lie), that he loves taking cock in any way he can (from the videos Chris has seen, he'll give Peter this one) and that this is his twelfth video for them. The section ends with Peter smirking at something the guy off-screen says. And Chris doesn't care who the wolf is claiming to be, that tiny snarl that he just doesn't hide quickly enough before the screen fades to black gives it all away.
Peter is sitting on a bed when the video kicks back in, and it could be one of a thousand hotel rooms in a thousand different places, all as carefully generic as the next.
Peter is still until two men walk in, one of them heading straight to him. They don't bother with niceties, don't bother with meaningless chatter. Don't bother with anything except Peter's hands going straight the other guy's belt, with tugging it out of the way, so he can open the jeans in front of him and wrap his fingers around the guy's cock, pulling it out carefully.
The guy's hands are in Peter's hair, trailing through the soft strands as he tugs Peter forward, as Peter opens his lips and swallows him down. The other one stands next to him, cock already out, and Peter swaps between them, leaving both of them hard and wet with his saliva.
Unlike the last couple of Peter's videos, this one doesn't end with blow jobs, doesn't end with Peter on his knees and a face full of come, while he jerks off alone. They strip Peter efficiently, shirt and jeans and the tight boxer briefs that hug his ass all ending up on the floor.
Chris speeds up his tempo when one of them pushes his fingers into Peter's ass, slick with lube. Stroking his cock and slicking his precome over hard flesh as Peter whines and moans and pushes back into the touch.
The two of them have their fingers in Peter's ass. First one, then the other, and finally both together, as they stretch out Peter's body. One of them slaps Peter's ass lightly when they're done, not hard enough to leave a mark, and Chris can't help but think about how, if it was him, he'd make sure Peter work his mark, make sure Peter had a red handprint on his ass, even if it would just be for long moments before it would fade into nothing.
The camera zooms in on the hard cock of one of the guys, zooms in on his rolling a condom over himself, before it pans back out. Peter's on the bed, ass up high and looking back over his shoulder, soft grin on his face. And whoever is working the camera knows exactly what they're doing. Knows exactly to keep the focus on Peter's face as the guy first pushes into his ass, to see Peter's eyes flutter and his mouth open when a dick is pushed inside him.
The guy fucking Peter starts off gentle, but he doesn't stay that way. Ends up driving into Peter in a way that has low groans falling from Peter's lips with each thrust.
And Chris almost growls when the second guy moves to gag Peter with his dick. Because Chris wants those sounds, wants to hear Peter whimper and moan as he's broken open on someone's cock.
But maybe this is almost as good. Because the thrusts into Peter's ass are pushing him onto that cock, forcing it down his throat in a way that has him almost gagging. And, oh, the sounds Peter is making right now.
Chris reaches out with his left hand and grabs his mouse, awkwardly fumbling with it to turn up the volume on the computer, until it feels like he's surrounded by those noises.
His dick is twitching with each moan, with each wet gasp, with each slick slap of flesh against flesh. He can feel it building inside him, can feel the tight pull of his balls, and the burning starting low in his belly.
Peter is writhing between the two men impaling him, pushed and pulled from either side and unable to escape from being spitted by a cock no matter which direction he goes. He's shaking now, and the camera pans over his body, the tremors running through him visible on film.
Chris is jerking himself roughly, imagining that it's him pushing into Peter, that it's him fucking the wolf and making him shake.
Peter is shuddering almost continuously, drool running down his chin as his face is fucked almost as quickly as his ass is. The guy fucking Peter's ass reaches around, wraps his fingers around Peter's cock and tugs.
Peter yells around the cock in his mouth as he comes, voice muffled and the sound choked back with each thrust as he splatters the bed below him with white. He shakes through his orgasm, two sets of hands moving to his body to hold him up, to keep him in place as they keep fucking him.
Chris groans when he sees Peter come, groans and tightens his grip on his cock, feeling it inside him, ready to tip over the edge. He flicks his thumb over his cockhead and that's it. He shouts as come runs over his fingers, spurting out to hit the edge of his desk. Shouts as he shakes in his own grip, shouts as he thinks about Peter there to take it all.
Both of the other guys have come by the time Chris pulls himself together and turns his attention back to the video. Peter is lying facedown on the bed, come stripped across his back as the camera pans back slightly and the video ends.
Chris reaches out for the tissues on his desk, cleaning himself up before tucking himself back into his jeans. He swipes the tissue across his desk, wiping up the come that was there, before throwing the tissue in the trash.
His breathing still calming, he downloads the video, saving it in the folder where all of the other videos of Peter are stored.
Turning off the computer, Chris leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. The past few pack meetings, Peter has been casting glances in Chris' direction, and Chris is more than sure that there's something still there on the wolf's side, something that still draws Peter to Chris.
Maybe next time, when the wolf looks at him, Chris will look back. Maybe next time he'll follow Peter out of the pack meeting. Maybe he'll tell him that he's seen Peter on his knees, on his back. That he's seen him with his mouth open and his face covered in come, used and spread and wrecked with his legs wide and moaning softly. Maybe he'll finally get to try out all those things Vic used to whisper to him in the middle of the night.
Maybe he might just keep Peter for his very own.
Maybe.