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moonlettuceTitle: Treat Me Like a Stranger
Author: Claire
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s): Chris Argent / Peter Hale, Derek Hale / Peter Hale (one-sided)
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,029
Summary: In which Derek watches a video of Chris and Peter
Additional Notes: Beta'ed by Temaris
Treat Me Like a Stranger
There’s silence in the loft as Derek opens up his laptop; clicking through to the folder where the video file is in three quick steps.
There’s part of him that feels guilty each time he does this, part of him that says he should delete the video and be done with it. Delete the video and forget about the fact that he saw this.
Derek doesn’t know why Chris decided to do this, doesn’t know why he decided to allow himself to be filmed with his jeans open and stroking himself to hardness, but it’s not Chris he’s watching for.
He waits through the opening few minutes, through Chris licking his palm before wrapping his fingers around himself. Waits through the way Chris' cock thickens and hardens in his grip. Waits right up until a door opens on the screen and the "Christopher?"
This is what Derek has been waiting for. For that door to open. For that one word.
There's a surprised tone in Peter’s voice, but it takes family, takes someone who knows Peter, to hear the pleased undercurrent in it.
And if Derek doesn't know Chris' reasons for doing this, then he sure as hell doesn't know Peter's. But he doesn't care. Doesn't care why his uncle chose to do this, even if part of him thinks Peter probably did it just for the hell of it. He doesn't care why, he just cares that Peter did.
The rasp of the zipper on his jeans is loud in Derek's ears as he slides it down, his fingers slipping inside to free his already hard cock.
He keeps his eyes on the screen, watching as Peter walks over to Chris, as Chris eyes him suspiciously, before nodding once. And then Peter's sliding to his knees, his hands on Chris' thighs as he leans forward.
Derek's grip on his cock tightens as Peter opens his lips, as he takes Chris' cock into his mouth. And this, this is why Derek can't delete the video, why Derek can't do anything except watch as Peter blows Chris Argent. Because Derek needs to see it, needs to watch as Peter's lips wrap around Chris' cock, as Peter's head moves as he swallows Chris down before pulling back, Argent's spit-slick cock slipping out of Peter's mouth.
Derek keeps his eyes on Peter as he jerks himself, keeps his eyes on his uncle. He knows it's wrong; he can't help it. Because it's Peter, because it's the one person his wolf has wanted since he was a teenager. He wonders if Peter knows, if Peter's ever known. Wonders if Peter has any idea that Derek used to lie in bed and listen to Peter jerking off in the next room. Wonders if Peter knows that Derek used to jack himself as he heard the muted gasps and moans as Peter came.
A groan from the laptop pulls Derek's attention back to the screen. Chris is leaning back, now, his hands on Peter's head as he guides him, fingers tangled in Peter's hair as he laps as Chris' dick.
And Derek's seen this enough times to know what's coming. Has seen this enough times to quicken his own pace, rubbing his thumb over his cockhead to slick the precome over his skin.
On the video, Chris' hips are starting to hunch up, his fingers tightening their grip on Peter's hair. If Derek closes his eyes he can almost imagine Peter in front of him, can almost imagine his uncle on his knees. He tunes out the noises Chris is making, his hearing focusing on the soft sucking sounds coming from Peter, the ones that are just loud enough of the speakers to pick up, just loud enough for a wolf's hearings.
"Come on, Derek," Peter would say as he leant forward, his tongue sweeping up Derek's cock in one long lick.
He'd whine softly as Derek would grip his hair, whine as Derek's cock would push into his mouth, until the cockhead just slipped into his throat. Peter would whine, but he'd take it. He'd take Derek's cock, take the pinpricks of Derek's claws into his scalp. He'd take it all, for no other reason than Derek wants him to.
The loud shuddered groan coming from the laptop's speakers invades Derek's fantasy, tugging his attention back to the screen. He quickens the motions over his cock automatically, his eyes riveted to Peter's face.
Derek's gaze flicks to Chris, and there's sweat dotted along Chris' forehead as he thrusts his hips upwards, as he murmurs Peter's name, murmurs Yes-- and Fuck-- and Take it--
He turns his attention back to Peter, and Derek's close now. All it takes is his hand twisting once, twice, and then the sound of Chris coming bursts from the laptop.
Derek bites his lower lip as he orgasms, come spurting over his fingers to land on his thigh. And on the screen, Peter is swallowing, taking Chris inside himself and marking himself up with Chris' scent.
Sitting back on his heels, Peter smirks as he looks at Chris, his tongue darting out to lap at a drop of come on the corner of his mouth.
Tucking himself back into his jeans, Derek lets the last few moments of the video play out, ignoring the way Chris reaches out and cups Peter's face, ignoring the way Peter turns into the touch.
He lets it play out, and tells himself he won't watch it again. He tells himself that he won't look at Chris and Peter during the next pack meeting like he's seen Chris smirking at his uncle and Peter on his knees. Tells himself that he won't notice the glances that go between the two of them, or the way they've started reaching out to each other more, even when the rest of the pack is there.
He tells himself that there won't be the scent of Chris on Peter's skin, or that Peter won't arrive only seconds after Chris does, and leave only seconds before.
He tells himself that this time will be different, as he slowly closes the laptop and walks away from the table.
Author: Claire
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s): Chris Argent / Peter Hale, Derek Hale / Peter Hale (one-sided)
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,029
Summary: In which Derek watches a video of Chris and Peter
Additional Notes: Beta'ed by Temaris
Treat Me Like a Stranger
There’s silence in the loft as Derek opens up his laptop; clicking through to the folder where the video file is in three quick steps.
There’s part of him that feels guilty each time he does this, part of him that says he should delete the video and be done with it. Delete the video and forget about the fact that he saw this.
Derek doesn’t know why Chris decided to do this, doesn’t know why he decided to allow himself to be filmed with his jeans open and stroking himself to hardness, but it’s not Chris he’s watching for.
He waits through the opening few minutes, through Chris licking his palm before wrapping his fingers around himself. Waits through the way Chris' cock thickens and hardens in his grip. Waits right up until a door opens on the screen and the "Christopher?"
This is what Derek has been waiting for. For that door to open. For that one word.
There's a surprised tone in Peter’s voice, but it takes family, takes someone who knows Peter, to hear the pleased undercurrent in it.
And if Derek doesn't know Chris' reasons for doing this, then he sure as hell doesn't know Peter's. But he doesn't care. Doesn't care why his uncle chose to do this, even if part of him thinks Peter probably did it just for the hell of it. He doesn't care why, he just cares that Peter did.
The rasp of the zipper on his jeans is loud in Derek's ears as he slides it down, his fingers slipping inside to free his already hard cock.
He keeps his eyes on the screen, watching as Peter walks over to Chris, as Chris eyes him suspiciously, before nodding once. And then Peter's sliding to his knees, his hands on Chris' thighs as he leans forward.
Derek's grip on his cock tightens as Peter opens his lips, as he takes Chris' cock into his mouth. And this, this is why Derek can't delete the video, why Derek can't do anything except watch as Peter blows Chris Argent. Because Derek needs to see it, needs to watch as Peter's lips wrap around Chris' cock, as Peter's head moves as he swallows Chris down before pulling back, Argent's spit-slick cock slipping out of Peter's mouth.
Derek keeps his eyes on Peter as he jerks himself, keeps his eyes on his uncle. He knows it's wrong; he can't help it. Because it's Peter, because it's the one person his wolf has wanted since he was a teenager. He wonders if Peter knows, if Peter's ever known. Wonders if Peter has any idea that Derek used to lie in bed and listen to Peter jerking off in the next room. Wonders if Peter knows that Derek used to jack himself as he heard the muted gasps and moans as Peter came.
A groan from the laptop pulls Derek's attention back to the screen. Chris is leaning back, now, his hands on Peter's head as he guides him, fingers tangled in Peter's hair as he laps as Chris' dick.
And Derek's seen this enough times to know what's coming. Has seen this enough times to quicken his own pace, rubbing his thumb over his cockhead to slick the precome over his skin.
On the video, Chris' hips are starting to hunch up, his fingers tightening their grip on Peter's hair. If Derek closes his eyes he can almost imagine Peter in front of him, can almost imagine his uncle on his knees. He tunes out the noises Chris is making, his hearing focusing on the soft sucking sounds coming from Peter, the ones that are just loud enough of the speakers to pick up, just loud enough for a wolf's hearings.
"Come on, Derek," Peter would say as he leant forward, his tongue sweeping up Derek's cock in one long lick.
He'd whine softly as Derek would grip his hair, whine as Derek's cock would push into his mouth, until the cockhead just slipped into his throat. Peter would whine, but he'd take it. He'd take Derek's cock, take the pinpricks of Derek's claws into his scalp. He'd take it all, for no other reason than Derek wants him to.
The loud shuddered groan coming from the laptop's speakers invades Derek's fantasy, tugging his attention back to the screen. He quickens the motions over his cock automatically, his eyes riveted to Peter's face.
Derek's gaze flicks to Chris, and there's sweat dotted along Chris' forehead as he thrusts his hips upwards, as he murmurs Peter's name, murmurs Yes-- and Fuck-- and Take it--
He turns his attention back to Peter, and Derek's close now. All it takes is his hand twisting once, twice, and then the sound of Chris coming bursts from the laptop.
Derek bites his lower lip as he orgasms, come spurting over his fingers to land on his thigh. And on the screen, Peter is swallowing, taking Chris inside himself and marking himself up with Chris' scent.
Sitting back on his heels, Peter smirks as he looks at Chris, his tongue darting out to lap at a drop of come on the corner of his mouth.
Tucking himself back into his jeans, Derek lets the last few moments of the video play out, ignoring the way Chris reaches out and cups Peter's face, ignoring the way Peter turns into the touch.
He lets it play out, and tells himself he won't watch it again. He tells himself that he won't look at Chris and Peter during the next pack meeting like he's seen Chris smirking at his uncle and Peter on his knees. Tells himself that he won't notice the glances that go between the two of them, or the way they've started reaching out to each other more, even when the rest of the pack is there.
He tells himself that there won't be the scent of Chris on Peter's skin, or that Peter won't arrive only seconds after Chris does, and leave only seconds before.
He tells himself that this time will be different, as he slowly closes the laptop and walks away from the table.
