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moonlettuceTitle: Stroke me like the rain
Author: Claire
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s): Chris Argent / Peter Hale, Derek Hale / Stiles Stilinski (implied)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,283
Summary: In which Chris applies eyeliner to teenagers and Peter watches his ass
Additional Notes: Beta'ed by Temaris.
From a prompt request from Tardisandwings: Petopher "You were wasted as a straight boy Argent"
Title stolen from David Bowie's Velvet Goldmine.
Stroke me like the rain
Peter watches from his position on the stairs as Chris Argent pulls clothes out of various bags and tosses them at Stiles and Scott.
"Remember," Argent says, as something decidedly mesh-like and see-through lands in Scott's hands, "if the incubus targets one of you, lead him out to the alley next to the club. That's where we'll be waiting."
"I hope you don't have anything for me in there." The words from Derek are nearly a growl as he eyes the bags at Argent's feet disdainfully, stepping further into the room to let Scott and Stiles pass.
The look Argent gives Derek as he glances over to him is one Peter's never seen on the hunter's face before. "I think you'll be fine."
"I'm still not happy about this plan," Derek says.
"It's not ideal," Argent agrees, "but it's the only one we've got."
"And besides," Peter comments, "it's not as though you're not going to be in the club with them. I'm sure you'll be able to save young Mr Stilinski from all those men just dying to bend him over and--"
Peter laughs as Derek's growl cuts him off, almost drowning the Peter! that comes from Argent.
Whatever Derek had been going to say is lost as Scott walks out of the bathroom, pulling at the shirt that's all but sticking to his chest.
"I think this is the wrong size."
Peter smirks. "You're going after a sex demon. Trust me, that's the size you want." Which was actually about two sizes smaller than Scott should be wearing, but it looked like Argent had chosen perfectly. No self-respecting sex demon was going to be able to stop themselves from trying to eat Scott right up.
Another growl comes from Derek, low and wanting and heralding Stiles walking into the room.
Stiles' shirt is also much tighter than Peter's ever seen the boy wearing, showing off the body that tends to be hidden under baggy plaid. The flush that springs to Stiles' face when he notices Peter's appraising stare is frankly delicious, and completely worth the snarl his nephew sends in his direction.
Peter raises his hands in surrender, pointedly not commenting on the way Derek takes a step closer to Stiles. It would be fun to work Derek up, but out of the people currently in the loft with him, Stiles isn't the one he wants.
His gaze drifts back to Argent, bent over and looking in another of the bags he'd brought in with him earlier. The jeans Argent's wearing are stretched tight across his ass and Peter can't help but want to take them off him, sliding denim over skin until there's nothing between the two of them.
It's a shame when Argent finally stands, and Peter's pretty sure that he managed to stop the noise of disappointment from leaving his throat, but Derek's giving him a look that says maybe not.
Throwing a wink in Derek's direction, just to see his nephew huff and glare, Peter watches Argent lead Scott over to the table, waiting a moment as Scott boosts himself up to sit on it.
There's something in Argent's fingers as he lifts a hand to Scott's face, but his back is to Peter and Peter's not prepared to move, not prepared to show that he is in any way interested in what's going on. Which means he's just going to have to watch Argent's ass until he's finished doing whatever it is he's doing to Scott. The sacrifices Peter makes--
After only a couple of minutes, Argent steps away, slapping Scott's hand as he raises it to his face.
"Don't rub, you'll smudge it."
And Peter sees exactly what Scott is threatening to smudge as Argent takes a step to the side, patting the table and waving Stiles over.
Scott's eyes are ringed in a smoky black, subtle and devastating at the same time. And any doubts Peter had that the incubus would go right for them die suddenly. Scott, eyes wide and teeth worrying at his lower lip, looks amazing, with a hint of vulnerability. Hell, even Peter can't decide if he wants to feed the boy a sandwich or his dick, and he's not normally attracted to his former beta.
Argent steps away from Stiles, having given him the same treatment, and the combination of the two of them is going to have every incubus in a hundred mile area gravitating towards them.
But as alluring as Misters McCall and Stilinski are, it's still nothing compared to the man standing next to them, wearing a satisfied smile. Of course, Peter would prefer if that look was the result of him sucking Argent's cock and not from applying eyeliner to underage teenage boys, but still.
Peter gets to his feet and wanders over to the rest of them, casting an eye over both Scott and Stiles. "Fashion sense and an ability to apply perfect guyliner? You were wasted as a straight boy, Argent."
Derek rolls his eyes as he starts to herd the two teenagers out of the loft.
"We'll be right behind you," Argent says. "And remember--"
"Side alley," Derek finishes. "We'll get him there, you just be ready."
Peter watches them walk out of the loft. "You realise he's going to be fighting people off those two as soon as they step into the club."
Argent huffs a laugh. "I'm sure he'll cope."
"Well, shall we?" Peter motions to the door "Can't leave the three of them on their own, god knows what would happen." And besides, the sooner they're at the club, the sooner they can dispatch the incubus that's causing all this trouble. And the sooner that happens, the sooner Peter can be back in his own apartment with his fingers wrapped around his cock and thoughts of Chris Argent fucking him through the mattress.
But Argent doesn't walk towards the door. Instead, he closes the distance between them, leaning forward, so close to Peter that his breath brushes over Peter's ear. "Oh, and Peter," he murmurs, voice soft, "it would only have been a waste if I was actually straight."
Wait, what--
Argent steps back, the corners of his mouth curling slightly.
"You were married." The words are part challenge, part speculation, as Peter starts to see the other man in a whole new light. A whole new, possibly accessible, light.
"And never think I didn't love Victoria with everything I am. But that doesn't mean I don't appreciate hard muscle under me, or a nice tight ass."
Peter's brain short circuits slightly at hearing those words come from Argent's lips.
"And if you're a very good puppy tonight, maybe I'll take you back to mine and show you just how much I appreciate it." Argent smirks at him, hot and dangerous and Peter's cock twitches.
Argent makes a slow sweep down Peter's body, eyes pausing deliberately at Peter's crotch as his smirk widens, like he knows exactly what reaction Peter's body is having.
Peter takes a breath as Argent moves away from him, heading towards the door and pausing only to grab one of the duffel bags still sitting on the floor as he passes, the one Peter knows has the weapons in it.
He glances back at Peter. "You coming?"
"Maybe later, but only if you're very good," Peter responds, slow smirk crossing his lips.
Argent just raises an eyebrow before turning away.
Peter watches for a moment, enjoying the play of muscles under denim and wondering exactly how fast he can kill an incubus and get the two of them naked in Argent's bed.
Fast enough, he reckons, and follows Argent out of the loft.
Author: Claire
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s): Chris Argent / Peter Hale, Derek Hale / Stiles Stilinski (implied)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,283
Summary: In which Chris applies eyeliner to teenagers and Peter watches his ass
Additional Notes: Beta'ed by Temaris.
From a prompt request from Tardisandwings: Petopher "You were wasted as a straight boy Argent"
Title stolen from David Bowie's Velvet Goldmine.
Stroke me like the rain
Peter watches from his position on the stairs as Chris Argent pulls clothes out of various bags and tosses them at Stiles and Scott.
"Remember," Argent says, as something decidedly mesh-like and see-through lands in Scott's hands, "if the incubus targets one of you, lead him out to the alley next to the club. That's where we'll be waiting."
"I hope you don't have anything for me in there." The words from Derek are nearly a growl as he eyes the bags at Argent's feet disdainfully, stepping further into the room to let Scott and Stiles pass.
The look Argent gives Derek as he glances over to him is one Peter's never seen on the hunter's face before. "I think you'll be fine."
"I'm still not happy about this plan," Derek says.
"It's not ideal," Argent agrees, "but it's the only one we've got."
"And besides," Peter comments, "it's not as though you're not going to be in the club with them. I'm sure you'll be able to save young Mr Stilinski from all those men just dying to bend him over and--"
Peter laughs as Derek's growl cuts him off, almost drowning the Peter! that comes from Argent.
Whatever Derek had been going to say is lost as Scott walks out of the bathroom, pulling at the shirt that's all but sticking to his chest.
"I think this is the wrong size."
Peter smirks. "You're going after a sex demon. Trust me, that's the size you want." Which was actually about two sizes smaller than Scott should be wearing, but it looked like Argent had chosen perfectly. No self-respecting sex demon was going to be able to stop themselves from trying to eat Scott right up.
Another growl comes from Derek, low and wanting and heralding Stiles walking into the room.
Stiles' shirt is also much tighter than Peter's ever seen the boy wearing, showing off the body that tends to be hidden under baggy plaid. The flush that springs to Stiles' face when he notices Peter's appraising stare is frankly delicious, and completely worth the snarl his nephew sends in his direction.
Peter raises his hands in surrender, pointedly not commenting on the way Derek takes a step closer to Stiles. It would be fun to work Derek up, but out of the people currently in the loft with him, Stiles isn't the one he wants.
His gaze drifts back to Argent, bent over and looking in another of the bags he'd brought in with him earlier. The jeans Argent's wearing are stretched tight across his ass and Peter can't help but want to take them off him, sliding denim over skin until there's nothing between the two of them.
It's a shame when Argent finally stands, and Peter's pretty sure that he managed to stop the noise of disappointment from leaving his throat, but Derek's giving him a look that says maybe not.
Throwing a wink in Derek's direction, just to see his nephew huff and glare, Peter watches Argent lead Scott over to the table, waiting a moment as Scott boosts himself up to sit on it.
There's something in Argent's fingers as he lifts a hand to Scott's face, but his back is to Peter and Peter's not prepared to move, not prepared to show that he is in any way interested in what's going on. Which means he's just going to have to watch Argent's ass until he's finished doing whatever it is he's doing to Scott. The sacrifices Peter makes--
After only a couple of minutes, Argent steps away, slapping Scott's hand as he raises it to his face.
"Don't rub, you'll smudge it."
And Peter sees exactly what Scott is threatening to smudge as Argent takes a step to the side, patting the table and waving Stiles over.
Scott's eyes are ringed in a smoky black, subtle and devastating at the same time. And any doubts Peter had that the incubus would go right for them die suddenly. Scott, eyes wide and teeth worrying at his lower lip, looks amazing, with a hint of vulnerability. Hell, even Peter can't decide if he wants to feed the boy a sandwich or his dick, and he's not normally attracted to his former beta.
Argent steps away from Stiles, having given him the same treatment, and the combination of the two of them is going to have every incubus in a hundred mile area gravitating towards them.
But as alluring as Misters McCall and Stilinski are, it's still nothing compared to the man standing next to them, wearing a satisfied smile. Of course, Peter would prefer if that look was the result of him sucking Argent's cock and not from applying eyeliner to underage teenage boys, but still.
Peter gets to his feet and wanders over to the rest of them, casting an eye over both Scott and Stiles. "Fashion sense and an ability to apply perfect guyliner? You were wasted as a straight boy, Argent."
Derek rolls his eyes as he starts to herd the two teenagers out of the loft.
"We'll be right behind you," Argent says. "And remember--"
"Side alley," Derek finishes. "We'll get him there, you just be ready."
Peter watches them walk out of the loft. "You realise he's going to be fighting people off those two as soon as they step into the club."
Argent huffs a laugh. "I'm sure he'll cope."
"Well, shall we?" Peter motions to the door "Can't leave the three of them on their own, god knows what would happen." And besides, the sooner they're at the club, the sooner they can dispatch the incubus that's causing all this trouble. And the sooner that happens, the sooner Peter can be back in his own apartment with his fingers wrapped around his cock and thoughts of Chris Argent fucking him through the mattress.
But Argent doesn't walk towards the door. Instead, he closes the distance between them, leaning forward, so close to Peter that his breath brushes over Peter's ear. "Oh, and Peter," he murmurs, voice soft, "it would only have been a waste if I was actually straight."
Wait, what--
Argent steps back, the corners of his mouth curling slightly.
"You were married." The words are part challenge, part speculation, as Peter starts to see the other man in a whole new light. A whole new, possibly accessible, light.
"And never think I didn't love Victoria with everything I am. But that doesn't mean I don't appreciate hard muscle under me, or a nice tight ass."
Peter's brain short circuits slightly at hearing those words come from Argent's lips.
"And if you're a very good puppy tonight, maybe I'll take you back to mine and show you just how much I appreciate it." Argent smirks at him, hot and dangerous and Peter's cock twitches.
Argent makes a slow sweep down Peter's body, eyes pausing deliberately at Peter's crotch as his smirk widens, like he knows exactly what reaction Peter's body is having.
Peter takes a breath as Argent moves away from him, heading towards the door and pausing only to grab one of the duffel bags still sitting on the floor as he passes, the one Peter knows has the weapons in it.
He glances back at Peter. "You coming?"
"Maybe later, but only if you're very good," Peter responds, slow smirk crossing his lips.
Argent just raises an eyebrow before turning away.
Peter watches for a moment, enjoying the play of muscles under denim and wondering exactly how fast he can kill an incubus and get the two of them naked in Argent's bed.
Fast enough, he reckons, and follows Argent out of the loft.
