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moonlettuceTitle: Monochromatic
Author: Claire
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s): Chris Argent / Peter Hale
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,249
Summary: In which blood and death holds the same appeal for Chris as it does for Peter
Additional Notes: Over on Tumblr, 1234halefire posted this: http://1234halefire.tumblr.com/post/105991792003/goddessofcruelty-requested-petopher
And the reblog tags of breaking-bohen read this:
# psychopaths in love - the best # i want to read some fics of them just being a serial killer couple now
And so this happened.
Monochromatic
They're careful when they do this, only taking one from each city they go to, using Peter's senses to make sure they've left no evidence behind.
They know the police have no idea, haven't put together dozens of bodies across dozens of places slaughtered in dozens of ways with the fact that it's the same two people doing each killing. But even if the authorities haven't, the hunter community has.
There's a price on each of their heads now, and they don't know who the people tracking them think is worse, the abomination of a werewolf, or the hunter that's fucking one, that's taking down his own kind.
Because each person they've killed, each person whose blood has washed across their fingers is a hunter. One who has broken the Code, who has taken an innocent life.
Chris had never thought it would end like this, his life so completely entwined with a wolf, with a Hale, especially not this one. But when Allison had changed their code, changed the way in which they hunted, Chris found himself missing it. He missed the warmth of the blood on his hands and the way it felt to watch the life leave someone's eyes.
He thinks this is another thing to thank his father for. To thank Gerard for raising such a perfect soldier, such a perfect killer. His father had told him to never feel remorse, but Chris doubts if even Gerard had anticipated that lack of remorse becoming a frisson of pleasure.
And what he recognised in himself, he saw in Peter.
He doesn't know what Peter was like before the fire, doubts it was anything like this, doubts if Talia Hale would have let even her own brother remain free if he had been. But Chris supposes six years trapped inside yourself, with only the scent of burning flesh and the screams of the dying for company can break even a werewolf's mind.
But even though Chris suspected he doesn't know, not for definite. Not until there's a pack meeting called, not until John Stilinski tells them that the hunters that came into town a few days ago included one who had been questioned by the police after the Hale fire.
The rest of the pack look to Derek, their concern written on their faces. But not Chris. Chris knows Derek isn't the Hale who will take this information and hold it close, isn't the Hale who was inside the burning house as his family died around him.
Peter leaves as soon as the meeting is done, his silence saying more to Chris than the wolf's words ever have.
Chris waits for an hour before he goes to the Preserve. He knows where the others will be. If they worked with Kate, then they worked with Gerard, and as much as Chris may want to deny it, his father's teachings still run hot in his blood.
The truck is parked out of the way, and Chris can see the blood splatter across the window as he steps closer. The two men still in there have their throats ripped out, and Chris can tell by the ragged edges of the claw marks that it was quick and careless, can tell that these two were just collateral damage as Peter went after his intended target.
Chris isn't quiet as he walks through the trees, following the trail that he knows is taking him towards the old Hale property. He isn't quiet because he want Peter to hear him coming, wants the wolf to know he's there.
Peter is nearly done by the time Chris reaches the house. The man at his feet is still alive, but only barely, and Chris can hear the death rattle of his breath. Peter's claws are slick with red, a hand still wrapped around the man's throat, and Chris can't see a patch of unmarked skin on his bare torso, the ripped up rags of what Chris assumes is a jacket and shirt scattered around him.
Peter snarls at Chris, and Chris can tell he's weighing up killing the man at his feet with killing Chris before he can intervene.
"I'm not here to stop you," Chris says.
Peter's eyes narrow, but there's no lie in Chris' voice, and he knows Peter can hear it.
But Chris also knows his appearance has changed the game, knows that with what Peter is scenting right now, that it's become less about the hunter he's standing over and more about Chris.
Peter's claws flash out, and the last gurgle of the hunter Peter is holding dies in the air. Peter drops the body to the ground as he stalks over to Chris.
"Well, this is a surprise, Argent," Peter says, his gaze flicking down to Chris' crotch, flicking down to where Chris' cock is hardening behind his jeans.
Chris doesn't react, he doesn't need to. He knows Peter's just as hard, the wolf's cock straining behind denim. "Clean up your mess and be at mine in two hours."
He walks away without waiting for Peter's response.
Peter knocks on Chris' door two hours and five minutes later, and Chris is sure that Peter waited outside for ten minutes just to be a contrary bastard.
Peter's still wearing the blood of the dead hunters on him, splattered on his shirt and staining parts of his skin red. He smirks when Chris lets him in, scenting the air unsubtly.
"I'd act shocked, Argent, but a hunter getting off on death and destruction is hardly a surprise."
Chris ignores Peter's jibe. There's a truth in the words that Chris can't deny, and as much as Peter may goad, Chris' cock wasn't the only one hard tonight, isn't the only one hard tonight.
The wolf may have hidden it behind a need for vengeance, but Chris recognised that look in Peter's eyes. He should, he's seen it in the mirror often enough.
"You enjoyed killing that man tonight." Chris' voice is light.
"I certainly enjoyed removing another person responsible for the--"
Chris cuts him off. Peter's not hiding, not tonight. "No, you enjoyed it."
Peter looks at Chris, like he's not entirely sure what he's going to find, like he's not entirely sure what will be looking back at him. "And what if I did, Argent? Are you going to report me to the Sheriff? Maybe take me out to the woods and cut me in half? I'd like to see you try." He pauses. "And besides, given the stink of arousal you flooded the Preserve with, I'd say I wasn't the only one who enjoyed it."
Chris doesn't bother confirming it, Peter knows what Chris' reaction was. Instead, he picks up the folder lying on the coffee table, holding it out to Peter.
After a moment, Peter takes it, opening it, his eyes scanning over the list of names.
"I have no idea who these people are."
"They're hunters," Chris tells him. All ones who have broken the Code, all ones that have killed wolves who have harmed no one. And if Chris has to live and die by these rules, then he's going to damn well make sure everyone else does, as well.
And Peter has to understand what Chris is saying, he's not stupid. Free reign with claws and knife and bullet, and the song of death and blood playing for them both.
Peter meets Chris' gaze, the corners of his mouth curling slightly. "When do we start?"
Author: Claire
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s): Chris Argent / Peter Hale
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,249
Summary: In which blood and death holds the same appeal for Chris as it does for Peter
Additional Notes: Over on Tumblr, 1234halefire posted this: http://1234halefire.tumblr.com/post/105991792003/goddessofcruelty-requested-petopher
And the reblog tags of breaking-bohen read this:
# psychopaths in love - the best # i want to read some fics of them just being a serial killer couple now
And so this happened.
Monochromatic
They're careful when they do this, only taking one from each city they go to, using Peter's senses to make sure they've left no evidence behind.
They know the police have no idea, haven't put together dozens of bodies across dozens of places slaughtered in dozens of ways with the fact that it's the same two people doing each killing. But even if the authorities haven't, the hunter community has.
There's a price on each of their heads now, and they don't know who the people tracking them think is worse, the abomination of a werewolf, or the hunter that's fucking one, that's taking down his own kind.
Because each person they've killed, each person whose blood has washed across their fingers is a hunter. One who has broken the Code, who has taken an innocent life.
Chris had never thought it would end like this, his life so completely entwined with a wolf, with a Hale, especially not this one. But when Allison had changed their code, changed the way in which they hunted, Chris found himself missing it. He missed the warmth of the blood on his hands and the way it felt to watch the life leave someone's eyes.
He thinks this is another thing to thank his father for. To thank Gerard for raising such a perfect soldier, such a perfect killer. His father had told him to never feel remorse, but Chris doubts if even Gerard had anticipated that lack of remorse becoming a frisson of pleasure.
And what he recognised in himself, he saw in Peter.
He doesn't know what Peter was like before the fire, doubts it was anything like this, doubts if Talia Hale would have let even her own brother remain free if he had been. But Chris supposes six years trapped inside yourself, with only the scent of burning flesh and the screams of the dying for company can break even a werewolf's mind.
But even though Chris suspected he doesn't know, not for definite. Not until there's a pack meeting called, not until John Stilinski tells them that the hunters that came into town a few days ago included one who had been questioned by the police after the Hale fire.
The rest of the pack look to Derek, their concern written on their faces. But not Chris. Chris knows Derek isn't the Hale who will take this information and hold it close, isn't the Hale who was inside the burning house as his family died around him.
Peter leaves as soon as the meeting is done, his silence saying more to Chris than the wolf's words ever have.
Chris waits for an hour before he goes to the Preserve. He knows where the others will be. If they worked with Kate, then they worked with Gerard, and as much as Chris may want to deny it, his father's teachings still run hot in his blood.
The truck is parked out of the way, and Chris can see the blood splatter across the window as he steps closer. The two men still in there have their throats ripped out, and Chris can tell by the ragged edges of the claw marks that it was quick and careless, can tell that these two were just collateral damage as Peter went after his intended target.
Chris isn't quiet as he walks through the trees, following the trail that he knows is taking him towards the old Hale property. He isn't quiet because he want Peter to hear him coming, wants the wolf to know he's there.
Peter is nearly done by the time Chris reaches the house. The man at his feet is still alive, but only barely, and Chris can hear the death rattle of his breath. Peter's claws are slick with red, a hand still wrapped around the man's throat, and Chris can't see a patch of unmarked skin on his bare torso, the ripped up rags of what Chris assumes is a jacket and shirt scattered around him.
Peter snarls at Chris, and Chris can tell he's weighing up killing the man at his feet with killing Chris before he can intervene.
"I'm not here to stop you," Chris says.
Peter's eyes narrow, but there's no lie in Chris' voice, and he knows Peter can hear it.
But Chris also knows his appearance has changed the game, knows that with what Peter is scenting right now, that it's become less about the hunter he's standing over and more about Chris.
Peter's claws flash out, and the last gurgle of the hunter Peter is holding dies in the air. Peter drops the body to the ground as he stalks over to Chris.
"Well, this is a surprise, Argent," Peter says, his gaze flicking down to Chris' crotch, flicking down to where Chris' cock is hardening behind his jeans.
Chris doesn't react, he doesn't need to. He knows Peter's just as hard, the wolf's cock straining behind denim. "Clean up your mess and be at mine in two hours."
He walks away without waiting for Peter's response.
Peter knocks on Chris' door two hours and five minutes later, and Chris is sure that Peter waited outside for ten minutes just to be a contrary bastard.
Peter's still wearing the blood of the dead hunters on him, splattered on his shirt and staining parts of his skin red. He smirks when Chris lets him in, scenting the air unsubtly.
"I'd act shocked, Argent, but a hunter getting off on death and destruction is hardly a surprise."
Chris ignores Peter's jibe. There's a truth in the words that Chris can't deny, and as much as Peter may goad, Chris' cock wasn't the only one hard tonight, isn't the only one hard tonight.
The wolf may have hidden it behind a need for vengeance, but Chris recognised that look in Peter's eyes. He should, he's seen it in the mirror often enough.
"You enjoyed killing that man tonight." Chris' voice is light.
"I certainly enjoyed removing another person responsible for the--"
Chris cuts him off. Peter's not hiding, not tonight. "No, you enjoyed it."
Peter looks at Chris, like he's not entirely sure what he's going to find, like he's not entirely sure what will be looking back at him. "And what if I did, Argent? Are you going to report me to the Sheriff? Maybe take me out to the woods and cut me in half? I'd like to see you try." He pauses. "And besides, given the stink of arousal you flooded the Preserve with, I'd say I wasn't the only one who enjoyed it."
Chris doesn't bother confirming it, Peter knows what Chris' reaction was. Instead, he picks up the folder lying on the coffee table, holding it out to Peter.
After a moment, Peter takes it, opening it, his eyes scanning over the list of names.
"I have no idea who these people are."
"They're hunters," Chris tells him. All ones who have broken the Code, all ones that have killed wolves who have harmed no one. And if Chris has to live and die by these rules, then he's going to damn well make sure everyone else does, as well.
And Peter has to understand what Chris is saying, he's not stupid. Free reign with claws and knife and bullet, and the song of death and blood playing for them both.
Peter meets Chris' gaze, the corners of his mouth curling slightly. "When do we start?"
