A/N: I don't really ship these two, okay…maybe a little bit. This story came out of a thought that has been haunting me for years. It's based off that scene in the first season when Chris is talking to Scott at the dinner table, describing his father's treatment of a rabid dog. I always thought by the way Chris spoke that he was talking about not only a werewolf (which okay, was really obvious) but also someone he actually knew and was close to, like a friend. Like maybe Peter Hale.
October: Romeo & Juliet on Halloween
"Two houses both alike in dignity."
William Shakespeare - Romeo & Juliet
The Argents and the Hales had a fragile peace, and by peace they meant a constant battle not to kill each other. It was tense and cold, but for the sake of the blissfully ignorant population of Beacon Hills they kept it. That didn't mean they liked it, or that on occasion small fights wouldn't break out. It was in their nature as the werewolves and hunters. They kept to their separate sides of town and the only time either side encountered the other, outside of the forest on a full moon, was when the younger members of the families attended high school.
It was when Christopher Argent attended Beacon Hills High School for the first time that he first met Peter Hale, and fell head over hills.
It wasn't pretty. It wasn't sweet. It was a tragic teenager crush. It was pointless and would ultimately lead to pain. Not solely because Peter Hale would never look at him with anything but distain, being the younger brother of the Hale packs Alpha, but because Gerard Argent would kill him if he knew.
For Gerard Argent, werewolves were evil vicious beasts that should have been wiped out generations ago, and the only reason he hadn't taken out the whole damn species was because the family code stopped him. However that didn't mean he would allow his son or daughter to shake up with one.
Which was why Chris' crush on the school bad boy was pointless.
There was also the fact that he was promised in marriage to the daughter of the La Croix hunter family.
So for three years Chris watched Peter Hale from a distance, praying desperately that his feelings for the older boy would fade, and when Peter graduated a year before Chris, he thought his prayers had finally been answered. And of course that's when it all went terribly wrong.
Chris hadn't intended to attend the Halloween party, but his father going off on an angry rant about the Hale's again, after Talia had forced him off her land when the family attempted to set up security cameras that morning. Chris had quickly decided to seek sanctuary among his fellow students.
He didn't bother with a costume, simply arriving dressed in his best jeans and his team jersey. The music was deafening and more than a few of the partygoers where drunk despite it only being 8:30pm. He was barely through the door when a drink was being shoved into his hand and Rebecca Desmond was dragging him towards the den to dance.
Chris lost himself in the music and the alcohols for most of the night. It might not end up being the best night of his life but it was a leas a distraction from the stresses of his family, and his future.
After a few hours, the gathering all crowded into the den, and Susan Banks carried in a large punch bowl, announcing it was time for fun and games. Everyone cheered and Susan grinned brightly excitement dancing in her eyes.
"We're going to start with seven minutes in heaven."
There was a hum of approval and everyone's eyes scanned around, hopeful looks on their faces. Chris didn't look at anyone, instead lowering his gaze to stare at his feet. It wasn't that he was a prude, only there was no one at the party he particually wanted to spend three minutes with, let alone seven. He looked up when he felt eyes burning into his face and found Rebecca staring at him, her gaze dark with erotic promise.
Susan began fishing around the bowl and drew out a name. "Claudia Lisiewicz." Chris watched the awkward dark haired slightly familiar girl stepped forward, shuffling her feet nervously as her face grew red. "Noah Stilinski." Susan announced a moment later and Chris turned to watch his team captain step forward to a chorus of hoots and wolf-whistles. Noah smiled softly at Claudia and held out his hand like a gentleman. Claudia took it instantly and then the pair were heading for the closet, cat-calls coming from the rest of the team.
Chris laughed along with the rest of them and went to sit on the couch, beer can cradled between his palms, watching the others go back to dancing. Rebecca wondered over to talk with Susan, while her boyfriend Steven stood guard with a watch by the closet door.
Chris sat alone watching the two girls' converse, shifting awkwardly on the cushions when they glanced his way. After a few seconds he felt eyes burning into the side of his face and snapped his head around to look, only to find no one there watching him. Rebecca wandered away with a spring in her step and Susan vanished into the kitchen, before returning to the punch bowl. Steven banged on the closet door and yanked it open unceremoniously, obviously hoping to catch the pair in the middle of doing something, but as it was they were stood apart. Stepping out one at a time, both flushed but seemingly happy with what had happened, Noah wrapped his arm around his arm around Claudia and began to lead her away towards the kitchen. The team made a commotion once again and this time Noah flipped them off before vanishing.
Susan went back to the bowl and Chris felt his stomach tighten. He held his breath as she called out two more names, exhaling when neither turned out to be his. This time the pair didn't seem at all happy about being called up, arguing the whole time. – They could even hear their voices from behind the door.
Chris had gone through his second beer and was starting in on his third when Susan finally did the inevitable and announced his name. Reluctantly he got to his feet, setting the beer can on the end table, and stepped forward. His eyes sort out Rebecca, who was practically humming, bouncing on the balls of her feet just waiting for her friend to call her name. Chris gave her a half smile that didn't reach his eyes and bit his lip. It wasn't going to be too back, right? He liked Rebecca enough and it wasn't like this was going to lead to anything, though no doubt Rebecca would be expecting it to. He held his breath as he waited for Susan to say Rebecca's name, frowning over his shoulder at her. She was staring down at the paper, brows wrinkled, torn. Chris' frown deepened and he was about to ask if she was okay when finally she spoke.
"Peter Hale."
The room fell eerily silent, a small indignant gasp coming from Rebecca. All Chris could think of though was Peter, his eyes instantly snapped to the slightly old teen as he stepped thought the crowd like Moses parting the red sea and right up into Chris' face. He didn't say anything, just grinned and wrapped his fingers around Chris' wrist. Then Chris was being pulled towards the closet.
It wasn't until he was inside engulfed in pitch black darkness, staring up into glowing amber eyes that the shock faded and he came back to himself. "Fuck you!" he yelled, shoving at Peter's chest, which of course did nothing.
"Might be a little cramped in here, but I'm willing." He grinned, white teeth almost glowing in the dark. "How about we just make out for a while and then sneak off after?"
"Like hell." Chris spat, heart racing and dick growing hard. It was like a dream come true, being trapped in an enclosed space with Peter. Only the reality was making him panic. Peter was a werewolf. A Hale. His father would….
"Oh come on, Argent, don't be all coy. You don't think I don't know you want me." His voice dropped and he stepped closer, towering over Chris. – Though there was only a few inches difference. – "I smell it on you." He whispered, leaning in close and inhaled deeply.
"Whatever Hannibal." Chris growled, shoving Peter back once again. Surprise when the werewolf went. "I'm seventeen." He reminded him. "I find a fine hydrant arousing. Trust me, it isn't you."
Peter chuckled. "Oh really?" he hummed. "So you haven't spent the past three years wanting to rip my clothes off and…" he gave a deep filthy mouth that went right to Chris' dick. "Shame. That's all I've thought about for three years."
Chris choked. "What?"
Peter moved back into his personal space again. "Hmmm." He lifted his hand to comb through Chris' blond hair, nails scrapping at his scalp. "It wasn't so bad at first." He whispered. "Thought you were cute, for an Argent. Liked the way you mooned over me."
Chris cleared his throat and licked his lip. "If this is you trying to….intimidate me? Or get back at my dad for…."
Peter lent forward, lips brushing at the shell of Chris' ear. "Then I saw you out on the Lacrosse field, hmmm, all sweat and aggressive. God you were incredible. I was hard for hours."
Chris swallowed thickly. "Shit." He sighed.
"I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since." He bared his teeth and dragged them along the shell of Chis' ear and don his neck, closing his lips over the flesh and sucked.
Chris couldn't keep the moan from rumbling out of his throat, arching up against Peter. One hand went to grip at the clothing railing while the other instantly went for Peter's hair. His fingers curled into the dark strands, tugging hard which only made Peter suck harder.
They stood there in the dark. Peter sucking and biting at his throat, his dick pressed almost painfully against the zipper of his jeans. Sweat peppering his back, coming his Jersey to stick to the damp skin.
And then it was over. A loud thumping resounded on the door and Chris started shoving the werewolf away just as the door was yanked open. It seemed everyone growing tired of the game because when he looked past Rebecca, who was stood in the doorway with wide hurt eyes, everyone had gone back to drinking and dancing, no one even looking their way.
He looked back at Rebecca, her knuckles which against the oak wood of the door. She looked between him and Peter with confusion and anger, which made the hairs stand up on Chris' neck. She had no right to be angry, he'd never given her any indication he was interested in her. In the four years they'd known one another he'd not once asked her out or randomly hooked up with her at a party, why would he suddenly want her now?
Peter brushed past him, hand stroking at his ass, and whispered. "Coming?"
Chris swallowed. Did he dare to leave with the werewolf? The answer was a resounding yes. Without so much as a goodbye, Chris stepped past Rebecca and followed Peter out into the cool autumn night. "Where?"
"I know a place." Peter replied, glancing back at Chris with dark heavy eyes.
"You know they'll kill us if they find out." Chris panted at Peter's side.
"That's half the fun." Peter winked seductively.
Chris didn't quiet agree. He'd been on the receiving end of his father's fury before and this was a thousand times worse than scratching the family car. – And yet, he kept walking. Too aroused and foolish to care about the danger.
_*/\*_
It wasn't until Peter led him into an abandoned warehouse with rusting train carriages scattered around, that Chris so much as considered the idea that he might be walking into a trap. He paused at the top of the wooden stairs and looked cautiously around. The single electric light swing above them creating eerie shadows.
"Come on." Peter called from the bottom of the stairs. "I swear I'm not going to eat you. – At least not in a way you won't thoroughly enjoy." He grinned, licking his lips.
Chris took another couple of seconds to reassure himself that it wasn't an ambush before slowly moving down the steps. "Where are we?"
"Old transit deport. I come here when the family, and by family I mean my sister, is getting on my case. I've slept here for weeks before I have a bed in there." He nodded to the rusted yellow railway carriage.
Chris' heart skipped at the implication. "Oh."
The moment he reached the last step, Peter was on him, grabbing his Jersey and yanking him forward to crash their mouths together. Chris had dreamt countless times what it would feel like to kiss Peter Hale, but they all paled in comparison to the heat and hunger that was now sparking to life between them.
Peter crowded him into the nearby wall, pressing his body up flush against Chris', so close in fact that there was no doubt in Chris' mind that Peter wanted him. He moaned into the older teen's mouth and arched his body, pressing his own pelvis forward, showing Peter he wasn't alone in his arousal. It seemed to have the desired effect as the kiss grew more heated, Peter sucking on his tongue and delving deeper into Chris' mouth, while they rutted against one another. Faster and faster, carried away on a river of lust.
After too few minutes Chris let out a strangled cry, his body stiffening and trebling as he came. Peter pulled back with a smug grin, brow raised. Chris blushed scarlet and buried his face in the man's neck and Peter just laughed softly.
Peter hummed against the side of his head and pressed his palm against Chris' nap, squeezing lightly. The just stood there for a while, Chris getting his breath back. When he felt ready to face Peter again, he lifted his head. "Sorry."
Peter grinned. "For?" Chris narrowed his gaze at the teen and Peter laughed. "Aw, don't be. It was perfect."
Chris huffed disbelievingly. "Right."
Peter dragged his thumb along Chris' swollen lower lip. "You're gorgeous when you come." He whispered, leaning forward to kiss him lightly.
Chris stared at him, searching to see the lie in the pronouncement, but there was none. "You're turn." He said in a low wrecked voice, gripping Peter's hands tight around the shoulders and swinging him around, shoving his back into the wall before dropping to his knees. He fumbled with the belt and fly of Peter's dark jeans, yanking them down to his knees the moment he was able to. The tight boxer brief swiftly followed, presenting Chris with Peter's cock, glistening with pre-cum and begging to be licked.
He looked up through his lashes, meeting Peter's golden gaze, and leant forward. He dragged his tongue over the head, lapping at the pre-cum almost hungrily. Peter moaned loudly and Chris' chest swelled proudly. Wrapping his fingers around the base of Peter cock, Chris opened his mouth and took the head in, sucking and swirling his tongue until Peter let out broken noise. He then began to feed the member further into his mouth, tongue moving over the underside and cheeks hollowing out as he sucked.
His nose was almost pressed to the man's nest of dark curls when the head finally hit the back of his throat, but he kept going until he could breathe in the musk of Peter's pubic area and swallow around the head of his cock.
That was all he did for a few seconds, inhaled the scene and flexed his throat, until Peter tugged desperately on his hair, hips bucking forward. Then he slowly pulled himself away, until the head was all that remained in the damp heat of his mouth. He swirled his tongue once again, probing the slit, before diving back down.
This wasn't his first blow job, he'd practiced with a couple of guys, many of them not looking for anything more than a quick release, which had been perfectly fine with him. He wasn't looking for anything more either. Couldn't allow himself to get attached, to want what normal people had. He'd be married off in a year, and then swallowed up by hunting. Maybe that was why he'd focused on Peter, the unobtainable. With Peter, at least in his head, there was no danger of him getting hurt, or hurting someone else when destiny came calling, because as a werewolf, as a Hale, Peter would never want him back. – Or so he'd thought.
Chris pushed the thoughts away, forcing himself to focus instead on the thick hard length in his mouth and the sounds he was drawing from Peter.
His legs were beginning to crap after a few more minutes and he swore he was leaning on a pebble. Desperate to get to his feet, he increased the pressure, sucking harder. He worked his hand down between Peter's legs to press his finger against the man's puckered hole. That seemed to have been Peter's last strew, because his fingers tightened painfully in Chris' hair and he held his head flush again his pelvis as he came down Chris throat.
Chris tried his best to swallow it all, but ended up with most of it dripping from the corners of his mouth.
When Peter was finally spent, Chris yanked his head away, spitting the remaining cum on the dirt floor and panting.
"Sorry." Peter said softly. "I… - You were incredible. I haven't cum like that…ever."
Chris fell back on his ass, gasping in breaths and smirking smugly. He dragged his forearm across his mouth then wiped the smear of cum off on his jeans, glassing up to see Peter leaning limply against the way and fumbling with his jeans. When they were fastened, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply.
"That was surprisingly good." Peter chuckled after a few seconds. "If I didn't know better I'd say you'd done that before."
Chris stared at him, single brow quirked. "I have."
Peter looked at him in shock, eye lids narrowing slightly before pushing himself off the wall and marching towards the sitting teenager. Looking down at him, he reached out his hand. "How about you show me what other tricks you have up your sleeve."
Chris grinned, gasping Peter's hand and allowing the werewolf to pull him to his feet effortlessly. It wasn't until they were halfway to the carriage that the warmth of Peter's hand still being wrapped around his registers and his heart did a double beat.
The carriage was small and smelt of stale air and rusting metal. At one end was a battered old double mattress, covered in off white sheets and a thin red blanket. There were a three pillows scattered haphazardly around the bed. An ancient ghetto-blaster sat beside the make-shift bed with a scattering of cassettes.
Against the wall to his right was what looked to be a kitchen wall cabinet that had clearly been pilfered from a tip and a blue cooler sat next to it. On top of the cabinet there was a lantern, a hot-plate and a few cans of food. The place looked oddly cosy for a wreck train car in a dusty dank depot.
Peter dropped his hand and Chris flexed his fingers, missing the other teenagers touch instantly. He watched Peter stroll over to the cabinet and switched on the lantern, giving extra to the train car before pulling it open to retrieve what looked to be a towel, a pair of boxers and a small washbag. He tossed the pile on the bed then bent down to retrieve two cans from the cooler.
Turning to look at Chris with a soft smile, his gaze less predatory than it had been a few moments ago. "You might want to get of those jeans." He murmured, gaze flickering down to the darkened patch on the front. "Towel and a spare pair of underwear." He nodded behind him to the pile while holding out a can.
Chris took the can with a nod and strolled down to the bed, setting the beer on the floor as he began to strip out of his jeans and soiled underwear. He could feel Peter's eyes on him the whole time and it made his blood heat, his dick twitching back to life. "It looks like you live here." He commented lightly.
"Most of the time." Peter replied, voice closer than Chris expected.
He glanced over his shoulder once he'd kicked out of his jeans and underwear, bare ass on display. Peter was looking at it heatedly and Chris was fully hard in seconds, he gripped the hem of his jersey and dragged it over his head, tossing it on the pile at his feet. Inhaling deeply, he slowly turned and smirked triumphantly at Peter's started face. "So?" Chris said breathlessly, brow quirked in question.
Peter cleared his throat and looked up. "So?"
"I do believe you promised I could fuck you." Chris smirked, licking at his lips.
"Did I?" Peter huffed.
Chris narrowed his gaze and stepped forward, bring himself up to his full height. The shock and nervousness of earlier fading. "You know you did."
Peter shrugged, lifting his beer to his lips and gulping at it.
Chris cheered himself inwardly, it was unheard of for Peter Hale to be flustered. As far as anyone at school and among his own family Peter was considered a hothead. An egotistical asshole. No one intimidated him. – Except maybe Talia Hale, according to his gather. It gave Chris a confidence boast.
Stepping up into Peter's personal space, Chris swallowed thickly and reached for the teens jeans once more. Peter watching him with dark eyes the whole time. Unfastening them, Chris shoved them down his hip and thighs until the denim pooled at Peter's feet, then he reached out to stroke the already hard cock. Peter let out a startled moan and canted his hips forward. Chris grinned, reaching up with his free hand to tangle in Peter's short hair and yank him into a none-too-gentle kiss. Biting at his lower lip before thrusting his tongue into the other teen's mouth.
There was the sound of tin hitting metal and Chris assumed Peter had dropped his beer, which was quickly confirmed when both the guy's hands clamped down on his hips, pulling him closer.
They stood there making out, each kiss growing more heated and filthier. In contrast, Chris stroked Peter lazily as the other teen groped at his naked ass. The carriage growing hot and stifling. They broke apart only briefly to gulping in fresh oxygen.
Eventually Chris wanted more and began to step back, pulling Peter with him towards the mattress. When Peter almost face planted the floor, they paused, stepping apart so Peter rid himself of his boots and jeans. Naked from the waist down, Peter gave Chris a shove so the younger teen landed on the mattress, then he dragged off his t-shirt and climbed on top of him, recapturing his mouth.
"Do you have anything?" Chris panted between kisses.
Peter blindly fumbled around for the washbag, ripping the zipper down with his teeth and tipping the contents out on the mattress next to them. Chris turned to look at the items, focusing instantly on the tube of lubricant.
Peter rolled off him, laying on his back and lifted his legs, planting his feet into the mattress in silent invitation. Chris inhaled sharply at the sight, then snatched the tube and clambered to his knees. He made himself comfortable between Peter's spread legs and flipped the lid off the lube.
Peter's keen when Chris pressed a finger into him echoed deliciously off the metal walls and out into the depot beyond, and Chris grinned down at him arrogantly.
The buzz he got from each broken sound elicited from Peter was like nothing he'd ever felt before. He, Christopher Argent, had the brother of the Beacon Hill's alpha whimpering like a baby, begging for more. And he gave it to him. One finger soon became two, then three. Peter was glistening in the dim lantern light, coming apart beneath him. Chris had never felt so…powerful.
"Get on with it!" Peter growled, gold eyes flashing with desire and impatience.
Chris pulled his fingers free and fumbled around for a condom, only to find there were none. "Condom?" he asked, frowning.
"Don't need it." Peter gritted out. "It's not like I can catch anything or get pregnant." He smirked.
Chris nodded thoughtfully. He'd never done it without protection before, always conscious of the risks, the idea of going bare was exhilarating. Butting at his lower lip, he reached for the lube once more, coating his cock liberally.
He shifted forward, one hand gripping the base while the other reached to grip Peter's hip nervously. He paused, narrowing his gaze at the older teen. "Have you ever done this before?"
Peter glowered up at him. "Have you?"
"Yes. – Though not…bareback."
There was a long pause as Peter just stared at him, eyes flashing an intense gold. "Then that's all that matters." He dismissed, reaching out to pull Chris into harsh possessive kiss.
Chris moaned, getting lost in the kiss for a few seconds. Then Peter shoved him away and growled for him to fuck him. Gritting his teeth, Chris grinned down at him, a sudden wave of pride at the idea he was going to be the assholes first.
Peter gritted his teeth, irises flickering between his natural blue and the molten golden of his wolf.
"God, you're so tight." Chris panted, slowly feeding his cock into the overwhelming heat of Peter's body.
Peter groaned, his head rolling back against the mattress, back arching. "Fuck."
It felt like forever before Chris was fully buried to the hilt, his breathing hard, sweat pooling in the hollow of his arched spine. He paused, giving them both a moment to adjust. "You alright?" he asked softly.
Peter shot him a hard infuriated glare. "Just get on with it." He ordered.
Grinning, Chris drew back his hips and the snapped them forward, jerking Peter's body upwards. He didn't hold back once he started moving, ploughing into Peter like a man possessed, fully aware the werewolf could take it. He hissed when Peter's claws dragged across his lower back, likely drawing blood, but he didn't stop. Later he'd freak out. Later he'll spend days hiding the marks from his family, only to be gifted with fresh ones.
The pace was brutal and desperate, Chris driving in as deep as he can get with each thrust. Then he began to feel his climax creeping up on him. He wondered if maybe it might have lasted longer with Peter doing the hard work. Too later now. "Are you close?" he asked breathlessly.
"No." Peter gritted out.
"Shit." Chris seethed. "I don't know if I can…"
Before he could finish, he was being flung onto his back. Peter sat astride him, the werewolf grinning down at him while ruthlessly riding Chris' cock and stroking his own.
Chris watched the scene above him. It was doing nothing to help him hold his orgasm at bay and all too soon he was going ridged, shooting his load with a loud a yell of release. The world around him blacked out, and he was barely conscious of Peter increasing his pace as he rode Chris through his orgasm.
When Chris came around Peter has collapsed beside him. He was aware of the wet cum on his stomach and chest in thick white stripes. He turned to stare at the werewolf's flushed blissful face and a glow of affection wrapped around Chris' heart. "Was this a trick or a treat?" he asked nervously.
Peter met his gaze out of the corner of his eyes. "I guess that's up to you?" he replied quietly.
Chris eyes widened surprised. "You mean…" he swallowed his hope. "…you want to do this again?" he pressed cautiously.
Peter shrugged a single shoulder. "If you're okay with sneaking around and lying to your parents and friends?"
Chris considered it. "They'll find out eventually and when the do…" he paused, tearing his gaze away from the inviting blue. "It won't end well for either of us." He muttered regretfully.
"Probably." Peter conceded. "But it'll be a hell of a ride. – Juliet."
Chris' head snapped around, brows knitted. "Fuck you." He grunted, elbowing Peter's ribs. "If either of us is Juliet, it's you."
Peter scoffed, pulling Chris into a kiss. "We'll seen." He murmured.
The End
A/N: Once again sorry for the crap ending, but I hope you enjoyed it nevertheless. I have no plans for a follow up before anyone asks, this was a short thrown together fic.
