Hi guys! A little note before starting. I ship Chris and Peter, but there isn't plenty of fics about them, so I thought: why the hell not? And I wrote this. There's going to be Sterek, too, later on. Every chapter is told from the perspective of a different character, but still not as a first person speech. English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for spelling and grammatical mistakes. Hope you enjoy :D
The song remains the same (except, perhaps, the ending)
Chapter 1: Peter's POV
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He spots him from the other side of the street, clinically and a bit longingly contemplating his new, gorgeous '05 Honda CBR 1000RR Repsol. Peter's heard his steady heartbeat since he was still at the newsstand, but figured he was just passing by. He stopped walking though, heart suddenly skipping a beat.
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His wolf's been itching with curiosity since then, but he doesn't particularly wish to meet him, what with the hunter-psycho werewolf deal between them.
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Then again, he can't leave his baby there just because Argent seems determined to stare at the bike all day long. Plus, he's kinda pleased to be able to make him utterly jealous.
He's a sassy little bitch like that and he knows it.
Why not have some well-deserved fun at Chris's expense for a change?
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He approaches him from beyond, careful not to be noticed; then steps into his personal space and whispers mockingly in his ear: "Do you fancy a ride, cowboy?".
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In the blink of an eye Argent spins around and stabs him with the ultimate death-glare of Doom.
"Hale", he says through gritted teeth, hand instantly reaching for the desert eagle 45 in the holster under his leather-jacket.
"Easy there, Chrissy! I was just trying to be friendly".
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The hunter growls and keeps staring at him, studying him.
"Hey, why don't you leave the growling part of the deal to me since, you know, I am the werewolf here?"
More staring.
"Ok, ok! I'm leaving. God! You're grumpier than Derek!"
He snorts and makes his way to the bike, keys tingling in his right hand.
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"Is that yours?" Chris asks, eyebrow raised.
"Er, yes…" The "duh" is obvious.
He swings his keys right at his face. "See?"
The hunter lets out an irritated huff and slaps his hand away.
God, he's pissy!
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"I meant, didn't you kill the previous owner to get her?"
"Who the hell do you think I am?" Peter asks in a scandalized high-pitched voice.
The look he receives from Chris totally read: "well, a psycho werewolf who, among other things, sliced his own niece in half!"
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"Anyway," he shrugs "I bought it. With money. I have a few bucks left in my bank account thanks to the payout the insurance gave me after, you know, the fire that killed my entire family. The one that your crazy little sister set?"
Something resembling guilt crosses Chris's expression before his face goes completely blank. Peter sees it though, flashing through his features, fast as lightning.
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"Come on! I have a spare helmet!"
Argent gives him another hard look.
"Think about it as a peace - no wait, too much – a truce offering. There won't be a second."
He grins in a manner that can only be described as wolfish, baring his teeth and crowding Chris against the Honda, breathing hot against his neck.
"What? Are you afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?"
"Ok!" Chris hisses, grabbing the keys from Peter's hand, "but I drive!"
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TBC…