“You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you
You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you
Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I’ve got no soul to sell
Help me the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself”
-Nine Inch Nails “Closer”
Chris spent the third night in a row standing outside in a hallway while the absolutely most narcissist, aggravating diva in the entire world enjoyed himself. He didn’t for the life of him know why he stayed with the job. He’d been the longest lasting head of security the firm had ever placed with Peter Hale…and that was three months ago. His patience was hanging on by a thread.
Chris worked for his father’s company, Argent Security. They were one of the many firms who protected Werewolves from those who would use them for their own schemes. Peter was werewolf and the brother of a very powerful Alpha. He was also the star of his band Razor Edge, Red for short. A handsome, provocative singer with hips that just- no.
Chris gritted his teeth.
In spite of the sounds coming from inside he just wasn’t going to go there. Gerard had told him he needed to prove himself because someone would have to take over the company when he died. Having an affair with a client would just be bad on so many levels.
He’d been warned about Peter Hale. He was difficult, tended to ditch his security team, tended to have wild parties and fucked around because he could. All he had to do was pick the people he wanted out of a crowd and they would follow him to his bedroom. This was one of those many times, and this time? This time Chris knew there were at least two guys in there.
The sounds stopped and Chris sighed with relief. He wasn’t sure why he got all hot and bothered every time he heard Peter’s voice in the throes of passion but he did. What was worse, the werewolf knew and constantly taunted him about it. Not in so many words, but there were amused looks and mocking smiles. Peter knew exactly how much Chris was affected by him but usually never looked twice. Occasionally he would sweep his eyes over Chris’ perfectly tailored security guard suit and smirk.
Once he even drunkenly leered at Chris and asked him if he owned seven different suits or just the one? He’d gone on to ask if it was too much to ask to prove he had a body under it and very nearly challenged him to do so. He’d sniffed under Chris’ collar and tickled his ear with his nose, and snuffled at his neck. Peter had been very, very drunk could barely talk without a slur to his words. Someone must have added wolfsbane to his drinks that night.
Chris had been tempted to hit him to get him out of his personal space due to how much his hands were busy trying to touch Chris in sensitive places. Thankfully Peter had eventually given up and just sagged against him drugged up on whatever it was for that night. He’d half dragged, half carried the werewolf up to his room. He’d put him to bed and tucked him in for the night to sleep it off. Just as he was about to turn out the light he’d heard Peter moan, “ Christopher …” in his sleep. Then whimper like an abused kitten.
That sound had made his dick twitch with want. It was not the proudest night of his life. That had been about ten days ago and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how he’d looked back at the bed and approached it cautiously. He’d stared down at the sleeping man, still smudged with stage makeup. Peter had moved and Chris’ gaze had dropped down to the tent in the sheets. Peter was hard. It had taken all the moral strength in his soul not to pull that blanket back. He'd stood there and stared for a good long time. Utterly transfixed and utterly frustrated.
Which brought him back to tonight being a repeat of that frustration. Peter was fucking at least two people and Chris could hear every goddamned sound. Unfortunately he couldn’t put on earphones as that would mean he couldn’t do his job. With a sigh he rubbed the back of his neck and hoped Peter would be done soon.
Peter wrenched open the door sometime later. He glistened with sweat. His hair was plastered to his head and his lips were red and full. As usual, he didn't bother with being modest. He just came out with no clothes on. He jiggled a small bucket at Chris a small bucket and grinned mischievously at him. “Mind fetching some ice? It’s just down the hall.” He made no attempt to hide his body as he stared at Chris under his lashes.
Chris grabbed the bucket and bit back a retort. Peter waited, casually lounging against the door frame, unconcerned that he wasn’t the only person staying at the hotel. He made no secret that he was watching Chris walk and sniffing in his direction. Damn Werewolves. His father used to say they were a menace to society and now he that hypocrite was profiting off protecting them. He punched the ice machine and watched the bucket fill all the while he kept one eye on the hallway.
He barely knew Peter Hale. They didn’t talk. At first the man had delighted in little tests for him but he realized pretty quickly that he wasn’t ever going to be able to shake Chris Argent. So after the first few weeks Peter had accepted his presence to the relief of his manager and his sister. He apparently didn't give a damn about threats to werewolves and didn’t think anyone could take him down. Or, he just didn't care how long he lived. And that made Chris sad for inexplicable reasons.
Chris walked out with the ice only to see the three who had been with Peter heading out. One of them gave Peter a dirty kiss and heated look. The hot blond girl bent over and lifted up her skirt so he could sign her ass and the three of them all looked like cats that ate the cream. They didn't realize they were just a long line of sex adventures of the legendary Rock Star. That realization would set in later and Chris would have to deal with the whining when Peter didn't remember them. Peter smirked at them on the way out and held the door open for Chris so he could come inside. “If you were done, why do you need ice?” Chris asked bluntly. He did not need to see the state of the bed to know what had gone on. He’d heard it all.
“Scotch on the rocks is the best kind. Have a drink with me?” Peter offered, still naked.
“I’m on duty.” Chris narrowed his eyes.
Peter shrugged, “whatever.” He took the ice out of Chris’ hands and brought it to the mini bar so he could make a drink.
“It was good concert tonight,” Chris began since he had no idea what else to talk about. They had nothing in common.
“You liked it?” Peter looked at him curiously as if he genuinely cared about what Chris thought.
Truth be told, Chris was not a stranger to Peter’s work. His daughter was a huge fan and he just thanked God she didn’t know who he was working for or she would be all over him for an introduction. He would hear Peter’s albums playing almost round the clock when he was home. Victoria, her mother, insisted it was a phase. But so far that phase was at least a year in progress and showed no signs of abating.
“A lot of your new stuff is good.” Chris nodded. “Better than your older songs.”
Peter cocked his head slightly, “You know my old songs?”
Chris nodded, “could you maybe put some pants on?”
“I will if you tell me how you know my songs.” Peter found his sleep pants and put them on for Chris’ modesty’s sake. “I don’t actually know that much about you apart from what I read in your dossier which was very basic without many personal details.”
Chris stared, shrugged. “Why do you care? My job is to protect you, not to talk to you.”
“You’re so good at it.” Peter's grin was wicked as he stepped towards him. “There haven’t been any surprises since you took this position. It's been rather boring, actually.” He reached over to straighten Chris’ tie then slide his fingers down it. “Do you have a favorite song? You still haven’t answered my original question.”
Chris swallowed. “I like Break of Day .” He didn’t pull away though he absolutely should. “When I took the job I had to learn about you. So I listened to all your songs.” It wasn’t a lie, he had.
Peter’s eyebrows rose and he hummed the melody to that one. “ You’re here with me though far away. Where are you in the break of day? Please tell me where you’ve gone. I cannot follow but I want to know. It’s cold here. Stay. It’s cold here. Stay.” It was a song about hidden lovers a slow love song. He was genuinely surprised that was the one Chris Argent happened to like the most.
“What are you doing?” Chris stepped back.
Peter gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re impossible,” he grunted. “I know NOTHING about you and you know everything about me. I just want to…you’re so…..interesting.”
Chris blinked at him. “What? Me?” He gave Peter an incredulous look. “My life is anything but interesting, believe me.”
“I mean,” Peter bit his lip and stepped away from Chris finally. “You’re human.”
“Yes, last time I checked.” Chris’ lips quirked.
“You have a very interesting smell.” Peter looked like he wasn’t sure how to explain it to a human. “I … like it.” He shrugged. “I’d like to know you better but you won’t talk to me, why? I know you like me too.”
“You’re a client.” Chris remarked bluntly. “And this is a very inappropriate conversation.”
Peter ran a hand through his hair. “I can smell it you know. I know you want me.”
“I’m not denying that.” Chris’ voice was as cold as he could possibly make it. He folded his arms across his chest.
“If you asked me to, I would.” Peter pulled up the drink he'd made and downed it. “I’d blow you in a heartbeat. I’d blow you every night if you asked. I’d let you fuck me, I bet you’re really good at it.” He licked his lips at the very idea.
Chris smirked. “You don’t actually need me for that. What’s the matter, Peter? You’re usually not like this.”
“You mean I’m usually not this sober.” Peter chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s the anniversary of the death of my niece Laura.”
Chris had heard about Laura Hale and read the report on her unsolved murder. It had happened in Beacon Hills about six years ago. She had been the first werewolf to be murdered for two decades since the integration act. “You were close to her?”
Peter nodded. “She’s the one who pushed me to sing. My sister didn’t want a Hale in the spotlight. A lot of my songs are for her.” He exhaled. “The killer is still out there and they never found him or her. We don’t know what happened.”
“I’m sorry, Peter. That’s awful.” Chris told him softly. The Hales coincidentally lived in Beacon Hills as well. He knew that place had a tendency to have weird things happen but not lately. Before he knew what he was doing, he put a hand on the werewolf’s bare shoulder and gently squeezed.
Peter leaned into the touch. “Things happen,” he grunted. “Life goes on, but I can’t be drunk tonight.”
“Hence the multiple partners, I suppose.” Chris commented.
Peter nodded. “Sex helps.” He looked back at Chris with a sigh. “But the girl was getting irritating. Her shrill squeals were bugging me, so I got rid of them as soon as possible. Why did you take this job?”
“My father owns the company and he said I needed to do more. I was doing my own thing but it wasn’t working out.” Chris shrugged. “Weapons training.”
“Huh,” Peter looked him up and down. “That explains the body I can see under that suit.”
“Peter…” Chris gave him a warning look.
For a long moment it looked like Peter was going to press the issue and Chris felt himself teetering on the edge of an abyss. If he took a step across he’d lose his ground and take what was being recklessly offered. He’d just be one of many, though and he knew the Werewolf would take advantage of it. Peter licked alcohol off of his fingers and set down the tumbler. Chris just stared.
Peter sauntered over to the messed up bed and flopped down in it, eyes sparkling under Chris’ intense look. “If it’s any consolation, people don’t fuck me, Christopher. You’d be the first and only.” He bent one leg up slightly and his sleep pants rode down his hips. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before.
But Jesus Christ NOT like that.
Chris closed his eyes and forced himself to turn away. One of the main rules of his father’s company was not getting involved with clients. He couldn’t hide how much he wanted to just give in and make Peter his. He’d drive any ideas of other lovers out the Wolf’s head. There would be no one else but him because he did not share. He may not have all the stamina a Wolf had but he did know how make a lover behave. He had skills and longed to use them again, especially on Peter.
“My God!” Peter moaned. “Christopher, the things I’m picking up from you. Do them. Do all of them…just do something .”
The first thing he’d do is something about Peter’s mouth. It was absolutely the most distracting thing Chris had ever dealt with and the mere thought of ramming his cock into those lush lips was making him sweat.
“Christopher!” Peter panted. One of the things that a wolf could do was smell what another wanted. He slipped a hand under his pants and rubbed his dick while he stared at the security guard.
Chris started to move towards the bed with every intent of doing something .
But just then his cellphone buzzed. Saved by the bell . It was Victoria. He thanked his lucky stars because he’d been about to cave and ruin all of his professional credibility. “Vicky?” He spoke hoarsely into the phone.
“Chris, you sound like you’ve been exerting yourself. Peter giving you a hard time again?” Victoria responded with a laugh.
She had no idea of the irony of that statement. He turned his back to the wolf in the bed much to Peter’s chagrin and walked into the living area of the room. It wasn’t a large hotel room but there was space.
“The usual, what’s wrong? You weren’t supposed to check in until tomorrow.”
“Allison skipped school twice this week.” Victoria sighed. “And she won’t talk to me, I was hoping you would talk to your daughter. She listens to you. Better yet, I was actually hoping you could come home this weekend. I think she needs to see you face to face.”
“I can fly in for one day, but there’s a concert on Saturday so I have to be back here for that. I guess I could assign someone else to Peter for a little while if I need to be home longer. Tell Allison I’ll be there on Friday. We’ll go to dinner.” Chris told her.
“Okay, great.” Victoria responded cheerfully. “You deserve a break anyway. You’ve been working non-stop for the last three months. A good home cooked meal will do you a world of good.”
“I’ll book the flight.” Chris nodded. “See you Friday.”
When he hung up the phone he turned around to see Peter standing there. He was just in time to see the forlorn, stunned look in his eyes before it was swiftly replaced with his trademark smirk.
“What?” Chris asked. “I have to leave for a bit, but I’ll be back in couple of days.”
“You have a daughter? I didn’t know that. Your dossier didn’t mention any relatives, just your capabilities.” Peter said a little too casually. “Who was that?”
“Her mother.” Chris frowned slightly.
“You’re married? Of course you’re married.” Peter looked away and shuffled to where he’d left the bottle.
“It’s complicated,” Chris shrugged. “Why do you care?”
“Oh I don’t know because for the past half hour you’ve been trying to talk yourself out of fucking me.” Peter’s tone was annoyingly blasé. “Now it makes sense.”
“What makes sense?” Chris glared.
“Why you can resist me. Your wife has got you by the balls.” Peter chuckled as he poured himself another drink. “Run along, your family is waiting for you.”
Chris clenched his fist. “I’m my own man.”
“Prove it.” Peter tossed over his shoulder.
It was probably the stupidest thing Chris had ever done in his life but the condescending look that Peter gave him just then made his blood boil. He strode forward and grasped the wolf by the hair in order to yank his head back. The drink clattered on the floor and Peter yelped in surprise.
Chris briefly stared hard into his brilliantly blue eyes and almost dared Peter to challenge his strength. His lips curled into a snarl as he plunged his tongue into the obnoxious wolf's mouth and began a very thorough exploration. Peter wasn’t a passive partner in this. He wrestled Chris’ tie off and worked at buttons while Chris gripped his ass and lifted him up to carry him back towards the bed. He tore at Chris’s shirt, as he was too frustrated with buttons and needed to feel and see. Peter gave a small whine as Chris’ dick pressed against him through the fabric of his tailored pants and paused a moment to feel Chris abs and revel in them with a delighted cry of pleasure. Chris threw everything he could into that kiss. Peter’s lips were heaven and his whole body was involved.
But this was wrong, it couldn’t happen this way. It shouldn’t happen this way.
“Peter.” Chris whispered against his lips when he could finally bring himself to take a moment to breathe. He stroked a thumb over Peter’s cheekbone and tried to get his attention. The Werewolf squeezed his eyes shut as if he wanted to will away reality. Chris knew his breathing was edgy, his heart was racing and that his body was betraying him. “I cannot do this.” He had to force out the words.
When Peter’s eyes opened Chris’ was surprised at what he saw. He looked as though he’d actually been hurt by Chris’ rejection and he shoved Chris away from him roughly. “Get out.”
Chris didn’t know how to explain. There was so much in his life he could ruin if he went through with it and he really didn’t want to lose this job either. He didn’t actually want to treat Peter like an object either because so many people did that already. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”
“Spare me,” Peter scoffed. “I know I’m not good enough for a guy like you. Just … Get Out!”
“Peter? It’s not that-”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Peter shouted, “leave!”
Chris sighed and found his phone and tried to straighten his jacket and hair. His tie? He had no idea where that ended up. He exhaled. “I’ll be back Saturday. Someone will replace me for tomorrow and Friday.”
Peter turned away, entirely shutting him out. “Whatever.”
Chris sighed again and stalked out of the room. He called one of his people to replace him and booked a flight back home. He would have to stay outside Peter’s room until his replacement got there and he heard Peter ordering more liquor. He was torn. He almost wanted to call Victoria and tell her he was staying. Peter had shown him tonight he had a sensitive side. He wasn’t all brash and bold. Unfortunately for as long as Chris was head of his security…nothing could happen. It was too risky.
So he went home and learned about the problems that Victoria was facing with Allison. She’d fallen in with a group of kids that tended to get into trouble. She’d made friends with Lydia Martin who was a rich kid from one of the founding families and Lydia had a tendency to be a bad influence on Allison. That and she’d started going to clubs and partying without telling her mother. She was, without a doubt, acting out.
“Allison? Your father’s here.” Victoria called up to him. “You look like hell.” She gave Chris a kiss on the cheek and took his jacket.
“Long plane ride.” Chris rubbed his forehead. He had a headache and felt like shit. The encounter with Peter made him seriously question whether or not he should actually return to that job.
“I’ll tell you later,” Chris sighed.
“Must have something to do with that.” Victoria smirked as she indicated his neck.
“What?” Chris hadn’t noticed anything. He looked at himself in the hall mirror and noticed there was a showing under his collar. “Shit.” He had been so out of it the night before he must not have realized Peter had given him a glaringly obvious love-bite.
“Take it easy, Allison probably won’t notice.” Victoria studied it. “You could cover it up with some make-up if it gets really bad.”
Chris laughed, “No makeup.”
“Aha, there he is, I missed your face.” Victoria reached up and groped his cheek affectionately.
Chris hugged her tight. “Missed you too.”
Apparently he’d have to go up to his daughter because she wasn’t coming downstairs. “Allison?” He knocked on his daughter’s door. He could hear music. Oh god. Peter ’s voice. He opened the door after knocking several times without a response.
Allison lay sprawled on her bed with Lydia Martin using her stomach as a pillow while they listened intently to Peter’s latest album and cried teenage girl tears. The infatuation had apparently gotten worse. Both of them wore clothes like he did though Lydia’s tended more to towards the drummer Erica Reyes’ attire. Her hair had been styled exactly like hers. Erica was also one of Peter’s on again off again girlfriends, not that Chris was counting. Her walls were plastered with pictures of Peter and the Razor Edge band. Erica on the drums, Vernon Boyd on the base. There was a life-sized Peter Hale poster on her door. Allison’s room was basically a shrine to Peter Hale. She even had pillows with his face on them…and notepads.
His headache turned into a migraine.
“Dad!” Allison squealed. She jumped off the bed and rushed him in an enthusiastic hug. “You’re not supposed to be back until next month!”
Chris hugged her back tightly. In spite of how difficult she was being lately, he really loved his daughter. “I had a little time off, only a couple of days though.” He was so glad Allison didn’t know who he was currently working for. If she did, he’d never hear the end of it. If he was lucky, the infatuation would eventually pass.
“Shhh…” Lydia implored, “I love this verse.”
“Oh my god dad, his latest album!” Allison practically swooned.
Oh yes. Chris despaired. This was a migraine made in hell. “Allison, can I talk to you alone, please?”
“Sure, Dad.” Allison sighed and followed him out into the hall.
“Your mother is concerned about you. Talk to me, kid, what’s going on?” Chris slung an arm over her shoulder and walked her downstairs so he didn’t have to hear Peter’s voice in the background.
“Nothing,” Allison stuffed her fingers into her jacket.
“Allison? I know when you’re lying.”
“Okay Dad.” Allison mumbled and rolled her eyes. “I’m learning how to play the guitar and the lessons are only during school day afternoons. So Lydia and I-” she gestured at nothing in particular as her voice trailed off.
“You and Lydia. Allison! That’s not a good reason. You’re mother’s right. Let me guess, you’re learning how to play guitar so you can try and get into Razor’s Edge?” Chris groaned.
Allison looked extremely guilty.
“No.” Chris folded his arms. “Now, don’t give me that look. First of all, you’re grounded. Your mother and I will discuss for how long. Your friend needs to go home. You will focus on your schoolwork. When your grades go up we’ll discuss legitimate guitar lessons.”
“Dad!” Allison cried out in horror like he’d just given her a life sentence of pain.
“That’s the end of it, Allison.” Chris gave her a warning look.
Allison pouted at him and flounced into her room to say a tearful farewell to her friend.
Chris sighed and went downstairs. “She told me.” He put his head on Victoria’s shoulder. “Guitar lessons,” Chris moaned.
“It’s just a phase, Chris.” Victoria wrapped her arms around him and petted his head. “Now, sit down and tell me what happened.”
He told her the story because he always talked to Victoria about everything. She was still his very best friend and the only one who truly understood him and everything he’d been through with his father.
“Christopher Argent,” Victoria said softly after he went through the whole story. “You do realize he probably thinks he’s nothing to you now? That you have a wife and child and he’s just… a hot piece of ass you happen to desperately want to fuck?”
Chris gave her a funny look. “How could he think that?”
Victoria rolled her eyes. She was very good at analyzing situations. “He’s a Star. Everyone treats him like fuck meat. From what it sounds like, he probably thinks that’s what you want too. On top of that it was a hard day for him too. The anniversary of his niece’s death. He probably wanted comfort from someone he liked not just another warm body and Christopher, you were that person. He was trying to talk to you and you gave him a misconception about your marriage and he retreated. Then he challenged you. You came on hot and heavy, then you rejected him on moral principle.” She gave him an incredulous look. “You’re an idiot.”
Chris’ phone buzzed, and he checked the text. His team was keeping him updated on Peter’s activity but it wasn’t a text from them. It was from Peter.
“Did you get home okay?” It was a perfectly innocent text. Peter never texted him about anything like that. Only last minute orders or things he wanted to do that he needed extra security for. Details of events and such. Nothing personal.
Chris stared down at it and stared at his wife.
“I rest my case.” Victoria lifted up her hands. “Answer him.”
“What do I say?”
“Yes would be a good response and don’t wait. Answer him immediately, trust me.”
Chris sighed and responded, “Yes. Flight was awful. Everything okay here.”
“Ask him how he is.”
Chris added, “How are you?”
Peter responded almost immediately, “Tired. The Photoshoot was exhausting.”
Chris looked at Victoria, “What do I respond with?”
“Oh my God!” Victoria rolled her eyes. “Just tell him you hope he gets some rest.”
Chris nodded and typed, “I hope you get some rest.”
A few moments later, Peter responded. “Are you coming back?”
“Assure him you are.” Victoria prodded. “He probably needs reassurance right now.”
Chris nodded and typed, “Yes. I will be back as soon as I can. Just a few days, I promise.”
Peter typed again, “Good. Send me the flight details. Good night, Christopher.”
Chris didn’t need Victoria for the last text, “Okay. Sleep well, Peter.”
It was an entirely innocent text conversation and Christopher read over it more than once before he looked back at Victoria. “What did that all even mean?”
“I suspect that he wants to tell you many things but can’t because you’re an idiot. I guess you’ll have to wait until you go back to find out.” Victoria chuckled. “It means, Chris. It means it looks like he has it bad for you.” She curled up against him and rested her head on his shoulder affectionately while they watched TV. “The question is, what are you going to do about it?”
“I can’t do anything.” Chris sighed. “It’s not the lifestyle I want.”
“Are you going to tell him, or leave him hanging?” Victoria didn’t agree with him but she knew how difficult it was to get Chris to change his mind about something when he’d made a decision.
“I’ll have to tell him.” Chris shrugged. “It’s just not practical, Victoria.”
“Love isn’t, Christopher.”
“I’m not in love with him!”
“Mmm.” Victoria ignored his protests.
It had taken longer than Chris expected to sort out Allison’s issues and many discussions with the Principal. Once he’d finally got it taken care of it had been three weeks. Peter’s band was starting the California Tour and all he had to do was get in his car and drive to Palm Springs for the first gig. Fortunately after that first night and after a terse conversation with Peter’s manager about his request for time off, the star didn’t contact him. It didn’t bother Chris that much. Actually, he was relieved. He’d been half afraid Peter was going to start texting him constantly.
When he showed up at the hotel and got a briefing from his team he sighed at the news. Peter had apparently gotten worse. He’d been improving but soon after Chris left the star was drunk or drugged more often than not. There was a steady stream of groupies to his various rooms and it had apparently gotten so bad that Erica Reyes was fucking him again just to keep him under control. This of course made Vernon Boyd annoyed and the band was enjoying a few too many public fights.
Chris grimaced as he got closer to the Rockstar’s room. He could hear Erica yelling at Peter.
“This is bullshit, Peter.” Erica screamed at the top of her lungs. “I am going to tell Talia if you don’t stop this shit. It’s fucking with your brain and you’re stupid is even more stupid than usual. I’ve told you before, I’m so fucking done with your crap. Pull yourself together!. Boyd warned me not to sleep with you again! Clean the fuck up or you’re going to ruin us.”
She slammed out of the hotel room and noticed Chris. Her eyebrows knotted together and she gave him such a venomous look that it almost scared him. Before he could react she stormed down the hallway and socked him square in the jaw. The force of it sent him to the floor. “You’re a fucking asshole, fix this fucking mess.” She snarled at Chris, turned and flounced to the elevator.
Chris rubbed his jaw, thankful she hadn’t dislocated it and had no idea what all that was about. Oh, God…Peter didn’t tell her, did he? He picked himself up and knocked at Peter’s door, more than a little worried that his replacement wasn’t in the hall.
Peter opened it, mostly naked, as usual. His concerts never ended up with him fully clothed. This time his ass was snug in black bondage pants and he was barefoot. His chest was smeared with glow in the dark body paint and the room reeked of liquor. His normally perfect hair was all over the place. “Oh, it’s you.” He sneered. “I thought I fired you.” He inhaled sharply and shuffled away from the door.
Chris looked for his replacement. “Where the hell is Phillips?”
“Jesus, Peter.” Chris growled, annoyance flashing in his eyes. He strode over to the windows and opened them. “There’s supposed to be someone on your floor at all times.”
Peter stared at him with a barely focused, sullen look. “Why are you back?”
“This is my job. They shouldn’t be letting this happen. It’s dangerous for you to be alone without security nearby! Chris strode over and grabbed Peter’s chin to examine his eyes. "Okay, tell me, what else are you on?”
Peter yelped and sprang back. “Being drunk is a crime now?”
“I hear you’ve been drunk a lot more than usual.” Chris found a garbage can and started sweeping mess into it. There remains of countless bottles of liquor and he just hoped to God he didn’t find any needles. The last thing he needed was Peter using Heroin laced with Wolfsbane again. “We need to talk, but I’m not doing that when you’re like this.”
“Of course whenever it’s convenient for you , Christopher.” Peter sneered. He was glad he’d already got rid of the coke tray before Erica came up. Well, not completely, he’d just stashed it in a drawer. “I don’t want to talk, actually.”
“What do you want, Peter?” Chris stood by the doorway. It was probably futile to even attempt to talk to Peter when he was in this state. It was nearly impossible for a werewolf to get like this and whatever he’d done to himself was probably at least ten times what a human would intake. It scared him and he knew now why Erica was so angry.
Peter turned and snarled at him, “It doesn’t matter what I want. I don’t get that. I never get that. I’m on top of the fucking world and I still can’t have….” He exhaled, whined and rummaged in the fridge for some more liquor, throat dry again. “Fuck it. Just get out. That’s what I want, Christopher. I want to be alone.”
“I think you’ve had enough to drink.” Chris knew he couldn’t walk out and leave Peter like this even if he was just going to stand outside. “And smoke….”
Peter gripped the bottle in his hands. “Are you deaf? I don’t want you in here.” He strode to the door. “Besides, I’ve got people coming up. Now you can stay in here and watch or get the fuck outside where you belong.”
Chris raised his eyebrows. “You think you can perform when you look like this? Or that I’ll allow anyone in here given your state without at least Erica present. What have you taken? You’re eyes are blown.”
“I’m not a child, Christopher.” Peter gave him a scathing look. “I know what I’m doing and I can perform just fine no matter how much I’ve taken!” He knows where the evidence is and he doesn’t care if Chris finds it. In the fucking bathroom. The half-empty bottles would be obvious, Amphetamine and Ketamine mixed with Booze. And greater doses of it than a human could manage. Ketamine to dull the fucking pain he feels and Amphetamine to stop from passing out and Alcohol to wash it all down and make him fly.
Chris followed Peter’s gaze. “Shit.” He strode to the bathroom and wrenched it open. “Jesus, fuck.” He swore under his breath at the mess he saw inside. “We’re going to need a doctor. Peter, get in bed.”
“Make me,” Peter growled. His eyes glowed gold.
Chris backed up. “Peter…” He knew how to knock Peter out but he didn’t want to have to.
Peter launched himself at Chris with an anguished cry. The scuffle didn’t last very long, because Peter’s heart wasn’t truly in it. He was angry and completely shitfaced and Chris knew now his emotions were out of control. Still, it was his fault. He’d led Peter on, he’d almost fucked him that one night. If Victoria hadn’t called? He would have.
“I hate you,” Peter snarled from underneath him. Chris had the werewolf in a headlock, using his own strength against him.
“I’ll leave if that’s what you want, Peter. I’ll resign.” Chris told him gently, still keeping him in position because Peter was still trying to throw him off.
“Yes.” Peter half growled, half choked out a sob, “No.”
He almost succeeded in throwing Chris off him but the fight seemed to drain out of him he slumped to quickly bury his face in his arms. “Peter?” Chris reached down to stroke his hair gently. “Talk to me…” the guard was confused by Peter’s sudden sublimation and tried to get him to look up until he heard the annoyed voice of an Alpha who looked more than a little angry.
“Well, it seems you’re right after all, Erica. You must be Christopher Argent.” Talia Hale stood in the doorway to the hotel room. Talia was beautiful and tall, yet she had a real look to her, a sort of earthy beauty as opposed to Peter’s chiseled looks.
Erica folded her arms and glared from Talia’s left side. “I told you to fix this not to fuck him up even more.” The blonde drummer gave Chris an exasperated look.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Chris scrambled up off of Peter. He looked a mess from their scuffle and tried to straighten out his suit and stuff his shirt back down his pants. At some point Peter had tried to drag it off of him. “We need a doctor.”
Talia crouched down next to Peter who had curled into himself. He flinched away when she tried to touch him. “I knew letting him do this was a bad idea,” Talia straightened. “Erica, you should have contacted me sooner.”
“I didn’t know how bad it was!” Erica looked annoyed. “Or that he…” she jabbed a finger at Chris. “Would fuck him up so much. He was fine until that man showed up. That married man.”
“I …” Chris started. “It's complicated. I’m separated, actually.”
Peter looked up from his position on the floor and gave Chris a confused look. “What?”
“Whatever you are, I don’t care.” Talia waved a dismissive hand. “You’re fired.”
“No,” Peter climbed to his feet and balled his fists. “He’s not.”
“I do manage this venture of yours, brother.” Talia held his bloodshot gaze. “And that includes removing toxic elements from your life when you go overboard. Your own words, actually.”
“He didn’t do anything.” Peter lifted his chin. “It’s my fault.”
“That’s not true, Peter.” Chris shook his head. “I led him on, Mrs Hale.”
“I don’t want anyone else to manage security!” Peter shouted stubbornly, his voice tinged with agitation.
“Why did you lead him on if you weren’t going to follow through?” Talia Hale approached Chris with a dark look.
“A momentary lapse of reason,” Chris stood his ground. “I assure you it will not happen again.”
Peter shrugged Erica off of him as she tried to help him up. He could get to his own feet thank you very much.
“I admit that when you’re around we have fewer incidents.” Talia nodded. “And he’s not in the tabloids as much. As you may have noticed my brother is inclined to rash behavior.”
“I have, and I made adjustments to the security team to accommodate. Sadly, Phillips didn’t do his job or Peter wouldn’t have access to those pill bottles. He really needs a doctor.” Chris gave Peter a look of concern.
“He’ll be fine, he’ll sleep it off.” Talia ignored her brother in favor of close scrutiny of Chris. “You said you’re separated. Explain.”
Chris shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not sure my personal life is…”
“If you want to keep your job, you will tell me.” Talia interjected. “I’m not in the mood.”
“I am separated,” Chris sighed. “My daughter is a handful and requires discipline from time to time. She and her mother live in my house in Beacon Hills, coincidently. Victoria and I were best friends when we married and remain so.”
“Why aren’t you divorced?”
“It makes taxes easier?” Chris shrugged.
“Does she know about Peter?” Talia’s grilling was relentless.
Chris glanced at Peter, nodded. “She knows.” He looked at the floor and felt extremely uncomfortable. For some reason, Talia Hale made him feel like he was a teenager who just burned the carpet.
Peter growled, apparently not happy with that.
Talia strode over to Peter and inspected him. She sniffed occasionally as if she was analyzing his condition. “Erica, call Deaton up here. We’re going to need him after all. How much did you take?”
Erica got busy with the phone and Chris sighed with relief. He was a little worried that they didn’t understand the extent of the problem.
Chris answered for him, “I saw two half-empty bottles in the bathroom. Amphetamine and Ketamine.”
Talia sighed as she shook her head at Peter. “If you ever do this again, I swear to god, Peter. If you do this again, you’re coming home and you’re staying home.”
Peter cringed. “It won’t happen again,” he nodded wildly. He had been keeping himself upright by sheer force of tenacious will alone.
Talia turned from Peter to Chris. “You’re not fired.” she told him with a hard expression. “But don’t lead him on anymore or I will end you.” With that she waved once Dr Deaton arrived. “We can handle this. You can go and do your job.”
Peter looked wrecked when Chris nodded once in agreement.
“I’m sorry, Peter.” Chris looked at the Rockstar with genuine regret in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He turned stiffly and left.
Erica growled at him on his way out and he didn’t look back at Peter. In fact, he kept his distance for a good long while after that.
Things began to calm down, well in the sense that Peter didn’t go on anymore benders. It was still a highly energetic rock and roll scene. He still got drunk, he still partied, he still brought people back to his room. There was an official policy now of no drugs allowed. Talia’s rules. He would only ever go into Peter’s room to check things after someone else had been in there. And no one got to Peter’s room, or anywhere he was hanging out without being thoroughly screened. Chris definitely wasn’t taking any more chances.
And them? Peter’s attitude nearly completely changed towards Chris. He barely even looked at him. It was all business and Peter would impatiently wait for Chris to be out of the fucking room so he could get to whatever he needed to get to. Chris supposed he couldn’t blame him. This was what he’d wanted. He didn’t want the rockstar life but more and more he was beginning to realize what a fucking mistake he made.
This desire? It wasn’t going away. He found himself watching Peter on stage during practice. He found himself watching people who walked away from Peter’s room and being absurdly jealous. If Peter stood too close it was hard to for him to breathe. And Erica? She protected Peter like a mother hen in spite of all her anger previously. He knew she loved him and she was his favorite lover. She spent a lot of time in there with him. Sleeping over sometimes. And he couldn’t help the jealousy that clawed at his insides.
He couldn’t understand how Boyd could be so unconcerned by her sleeping with Peter again. Or how she could not be bothered by the litany of fans and groupies that showed up to fuck him. If anyone could drive him to drink it was Peter Hale but he had to focus. He had to get through this. Once he got through this job, his father would let him pick and choose assignments. Peter had not wanted him to be fired but why? They barely even greeted each other except to exchange notes on the schedule for the day.
Sometimes he thought it would be better if he just quit. It was always awkward when they were alone together. Peter would try and talk and then just curse under his breath and walk away. One night when he was patrolling the hallway he heard what suspiciously sounded like sobbing. As he approached the door it stopped, though. In the morning he checked Peter for any signs but it was business and rock makeup as usual.
A few weeks passed without incident other than Chris trying hard not to crawl out of his own skin.
Peter sang with his whole heart and soul when he did. Chris had never been enthralled by it before because he heard it so much at home but now. Now it was like Peter’s voice was a siren calling to him and it was digging it’s way under his skin. He gazed at the stage and the man swaying his hips and belting out his latest hit. Peter didn’t do rap, or pop...nothing quite like that It was Industrial rock and he was absolutely perfect because he didn’t muck it up with theatrics. When he sang it was about the music and not about look at how weird I am . Though granted, he did draw a lot of attention on stage. That was part of being the face of the group. Chris knew Peter favored leather because Erica said it showed off his ass and that’s what people wanted to see.
This song, this new song. Chris exhaled. Peter had been practicing it lately...and it did things to him. His groin tightened uncomfortably as he listened. He leaned against the wall and just watched. Peter was fucking amazing. There was just no other way to describe it. He grabbed you by the throat with his voice and left you standing there, choking for breath as you tried to process what you just heard. Then you wanted to hear it again...to feel it again. To have him look at you and sing.
Peter looked his way, or searched the theatre. The only people present were the band, the groupies, techs and security.
And Shit, he was ...hard.
What’s worse he didn’t have any way of taking care of it right now. He was so fucking thankful that the lights were on the stage so the wolves couldn’t see him. Peter couldn’t possibly have been looking at him. The lights were right ON him.
He could kick himself. “I’m taking a bathroom break,” Chris told one of his men as he practically fled.
This is what he was reduced to, taking care of business in a fucking public restroom. He was pathetic and resigned to the knowledge that he had colossally fucked up. He wanted Peter Hale. He wanted him badly and he had no idea how to handle this. There was only one thing he could do. He’d resign as soon as he could. His father would be furious but he couldn’t take it anymore. There was a concert coming up soon near Beacon Hills. He could just go home, regroup and try and figure out what to do with his life.
Away from Peter Hale.
Allison grinned at Lydia, “My mom bought it.” She hopped into Lydia’s car and checked her makeup. “You have the tickets?”
“Got ‘em,” Lydia wiggled her eyebrows. “And the Ids.” She handed Allison hers. Allison giggled and leaned over to give her friend an enthusiastic kiss.
“I can’t believe we scored tickets like this, right up front!” Allison squealed. “Oh, my god. Peter’s so fucking hot. I can’t wait to see him up close.”
“Down girl,” Lydia grinned. “I’ve been figuring out how to get hold of VIP passes and I think I might have a plan.”
“Oooh...do tell,” Allison was all ears.
Lydia gunned the car and they sped off to the concert. “I might have a friend who works security, he’s waiting for me to give us passes. His name is Jordan. He says his boss has been a little out of it lately so he’s been able to swipe them.”
“Wait, how are you getting them…?”
“Oh the usual way, a little skirt flip here and a wink goes a long way. You do know if we get up there, I’m getting my kicks. I hear he’s insatiable.” Lydia chuckled softly.
“Oh, man.” Allison laughed. “I don’t know if I’d go that far, I mean...he’s old. Hot...but he’s old enough to be our father, Lydia!”
“What’s your point?” Lydia snickered. “His ass is just begging to be squeezed. Did I mention I like older men? Your father in particular … I ‘chanced’ to see him in the shower once. Now he hasn’t got Peter’s ass..but that co…”
“Lydia!!!” Allison screeched and laughed hysterically.
The concert was one of the biggest yet and Chris was nursing a migraine. When he had decided to quit a few days ago actually making it a reality was proving far more difficult than he had imagined. When the tour was in full swing there wasn’t all that much time for anything and he got really busy really quickly. Peter barely talked to him but was a little better now, at least he didn’t avoid Chris like the plague. Erica gave him the evil eye whenever she saw him and he was drinking a bit more than he should lately. He was genuinely worried about the venue they were using. It was wide open and there were a lot of ways people could get to Peter. And it was notorious for recreational drugs.
So that’s why he was being thorough before the concert. He’d come upstairs for the first time in a while to personally check Peter’s suite and he’d chosen a time he knew Peter wasn’t going to be there. He checked everywhere he could that might be a security risk and couldn’t help but go into the bathroom to make sure there were no pills. He was in the bathroom when Peter walked back unexpectedly into the suite. “It’s just a bloody nose, it will be fine in a few hours. Get off me, Erica.” Peter sounded miffed. “I just got mad at the reporter.”
Erica froze in the room, she’d smelled Chris. “He’s in here.”
“Wh…” Peter would have smelled him if he hadn’t been bleeding. “ Christopher .”
To Chris’ surprise he sounded pleased, happy even. He opened the bathroom door, there was never any point trying to hide from wolves. Erica draped herself on Peter’s arm because she could and she was well aware it bugged Chris.
Peter stared openly at him and Chris shifted from one foot to the other. “I’ve missed having you around.”
“I’ve been around.” Chris folded his arms uncomfortably. “I had to check the room before tonight. There’s a lot of people on the VIP list. You’re having a party up here later.”
“No you haven’t.” Peter gave him an accusatory look. “You’ve been everywhere else. You even sent other people instead. You’re never outside anymore.” He was partially distracted by his bleeding nose which he used some tissue to handle.
“What happened?” Chris asked Erica and gestured at Peter’s face.
“A pushy reporter from the Enquirer. Peter got mad.” Erica gave Chris a roll of her eyes.
“I barely even see you across the room.” Peter huffed.
“I’m around and I’m watching. Doing my job.” Chris responded a little more harshly than he’d intended. “You haven’t exactly been friendly lately.”
“I was embarrassed.” Peter shrugged. “I miss you being in the hallway, Christopher. Will you be there tonight?”
Erica didn’t offer any clarity and she just studied her nails for now.
Chris looked at Peter in confusion. “I have someone else scheduled.”
“It is going to be a hell of a Party, I have a few guest coming on stage. Um. You’ll be listening to the concert, right?” Peter’s voice had a touch of nerves to it.
Erica peeled off Peter. “I’m going to my room.” She gave the Rockstar a encouraging grin and inexplicably left Chris alone with him.
Werewolves, he’d never understand them. “I’ll be there,” Chris nodded. He did not let Erica close the door.
“Please,” Peter gave him an imploring look that he was sure he was imagining. “Stand somewhere I can see you tonight.”
“I’ll be there, Peter.” Chris told him, less gruffly.
Peter sighed. “I’m sorry about the last few weeks. I needed to-” He gave a frustrated sound.
“It’s fine, Peter.” Chris assured him. “No harm done.”
“Are you sure? Because I’m hearing rumors that you’re going to quit.” Peter ventured carefully.
“The tour’s not over yet.” Chris never failed to be impressed by how quickly werewolves heal or his own ability to put things off, like quitting.
“I need you to be where I can see you tonight.” Peter reiterated. His eyes were too large and blue. It was getting warm in the room. “Please, Christopher, just this once? Promise me.”
“Okay, okay.” Chris could not say no the face Peter was making at him. It was everything he could do to force his body into check. “I promise.”
So all that happened much earlier and now the concert hall was piling up with people. Thousands of them. There was a spot he’d opted to stand because he had promised Peter. It was just to the side of the stage and up a little higher. The lights wouldn’t shine on it and if Peter were to look, he would be able to see Chris there. It would give Chris a vantage point of the whole stage and ability to spring into action if he needed to. From here he could watch Peter and he'd be mostly hidden from the crowd. Peter’s sudden change of heart today unnerved him but there wasn’t much he could do except for wait. He checked in all the stations and eventually the band came on stage.
He blinked in surprise. Peter was actually wearing tasteful leather pants tonight rather than his usual. A v-neck was slipped tightly over torso and clung to his skin. Chris swallowed. He saw Peter wave to the fans and the light show had already started. The stadium was a crowd of faces, eager young fans at the front but Peter glanced around and spotted him. He gave a sort of finger wave.
Peter smiled. He looked so fucking gorgeous when he smiled. And this smile? It was for Chris alone and he suddenly knew it. Peter happily greeted his fans with the usual wit and jokes, introduced the band and he began to sing. Like most of the people in the audience, Chris was enthralled. Every so often Peter would glance in his direction and grin and Chris’ headache just melted away. About fifteen minutes into the concert Peter asked everyone to quiet down.
“This is a song I wrote recently and we haven’t played it yet.” Peter told the audience, “I wrote it for someone who won’t listen or talk to me. So I hope he understands me after this.” The world knew Peter Hale swung both ways, so that wasn’t a shocker.
He? He who? Chris frowned in agitation. When had Peter got a boyfriend? He would have known. Then Peter looked in his direction.
The crowd of course, was going wild. They were going to hear a new Peter Hale song.
Chris stared..and then started to flush when the lyrics started.
"I Would For You"
What a pathetic string of words
Just leave them lying on the floor
The warning posted on the door
Not over here, not anymore
There was a place that could have been
Step over all that used to be
Since you have let yourself come in
Some things I'd rather you not see
See, I keep lying to myself
Don't know what else there is to do
If I could be somebody else–
Well, I think–I would for you
Didn't it seem like something more
So long I can't remember when
All this has happened all before
And this will happen all again
And I only have myself to blame
And I only have myself to blame
See I keep lying to myself
Don't know what else there is to do
If I could be somebody else–
Well, I think–I would for you
See I keep lying to myself
Don't know what else there is to do
If I could be somebody else–
Well, I think–I would for you
When Peter moved with the Lyrics it was intimate and suggestive and utterly and mind-blowingly perfect. Chris was achingly hard by the end and Peter looked at him most of the time he sang, though he did pay attention to his fans at the front. He would occasionally going across the stage and letting them touch him while he moved to the beat. It was slow and fucking intimate and just rattled him to the very core. He looked down at the stage where girls were reaching out and grabbing him.
And Peter let them, he was into the song and his body was reacting to it. He didn’t care who they were, what they looked like. They were his...Chris frowned slightly, they were his pack. His people. They worshiped him. They wanted him. They loved him.
Just like he did.
But he was different, it was more than worship.
He felt himself wanting to run out on Stage kiss Peter right then and there. His hand reached out and Peter looked back at him with a smirk. The wolf's arm was slightly outstretched, and wolf's claws extended very briefly in Chris' direction. Peter's intentions couldn't be any more clear.
Chris felt a little shell shocked as the energy of the concert changed from a slow to hard beatin minutes.
He was not in love with Peter Hale. Peter Hale was not in love with him. Was he? Peter reached across the crowd to hi-five a screaming brunette and her...redheaded friend. Chris shook himself out of the dazed stupor and zeroed in on the pair near the stage. He saw Peter lean down to kiss the buxom redhead, and said redhead kissed the brunette.
A very familiar brunette. His head spun for a moment. How in the absolute fuck could they be here?!? He had to be seeing things. No. No he wasn’t. That was Lydia Martin getting pulled up on the stage to dance with Peter...and his daughter Allison.
His fucking underage daughter.
The hand he'd been reaching out to Peter dropped. He left his position and wasn’t there when Peter looked for him again.
A quick phone call to his wife and to Lydia’s mother confirmed it. They had pulled a fast one and had Lydia’s car. He couldn’t do anything until after the concert but he had never been so angry in his entire life. He told the man under him that he had personal business to take care of and couldn’t watch the rest of the concert. He knew. In the back of his mind he knew that Peter had no idea.
Peter didn’t know she was underage but that was no excuse for his behavior. Acting like some god on the stage. Letting just anyone touch him. How did he…..How could he? And that song...
A few breaths later and he realized that he’d seen Lydia kiss his daughter.
He reached up and gripped his hair.
Okay, that wasn’t so bad, she could be here with a guy. That would be worse. How much worse? Lydia and her crowd were a terrible influence on Allison.
All those hands touching Peter.
Allison, Lydia he would deal with that later. Peter didn’t know. He did this all the time. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever seen the man get familiar with a crowd before.
Chris paced. He was in his makeshift-office for the venue trying to calm down. There was no way the girls could get out of the stadium even if he did text Allison. Finding Lydia’s car in a sea of vehicles was impossible too. He clenched his fists. One thing was for sure, he couldn’t go deal with Allison and Lydia without talking to Peter first.
Peter had reached out to him with that song and Chris had felt things he’d never felt before. If Peter truly felt that way, than Chris was done fighting it. He would just have to make sure he could get upstairs and talk to Peter before he drove home tonight. He didn’t want Peter to get ideas and go on another bender.
He calmed down somewhat. He was still angry, his headache was back and he drummed his fingers on the table. Peter first. What would he say to him? He’d have to explain about his arrangement with Victoria, that he really wasn’t obligated to stay with her. He would. He could do this.
Chris checked the time, they would be doing the last song and just about to head upstairs. He knew where he should be but he was in no state to deal with all of that, so he waited a little bit. Eventually he got his temper under control and headed up. The after party with the VIP guests were in full swing and his people were doing their best to contain it but the crowd was energized and it was a club scene.
He knew where Peter would be, at least so he thought. Instead he found Erica and Boyd making out, which somewhat confused him. He was at least thankful that Erica didn’t notice him because he didn’t want to deal with her. Eventually he asked around and was pointed towards the bedroom.
Of course he was.
Chris sighed. Just when he thought Peter had changed and was willing to change…he would have to walk in on him fucking someone or being given head. Was all that communication in the song just in his head? Was Peter just screwing with him? He didn’t want to believe that. He couldn’t believe that. Peter had reached out to him with that song.
So when he opened the door to the bedroom he couldn’t be blamed for the absolute fury that washed over him. He could not be blamed for standing there in shock for a few desperate seconds, then pulled out his gun on the man he’d just been about to confess feelings for.
Because it was Allison. Allison with her shirt partially open. Peter with his hands exploring inside. Peter leaning back against Lydia as she combed his chest with her fingers. She’d apparently either managed to get his shirt off, or Peter had taken it off before they got in. The smell of liquor was strong in the room and Peter looked completely out of it. He’d taken something again, Chris could tell by his inability to focus.
“Take your hands off my sixteen year old daughter if you want to keep them.” Chris growled.
“Dad!” Allison squeaked, instantly jumping away and tried to rearrange her clothes.
“Christopher?” Peter moaned, as if he wasn’t even sure he was hearing properly. “Christopher...Christopher…” he sagged against Lydia. “He’s not here. He left.” He closed his eyes and rested his head against Lydia’s shoulder. “He left me.”
Chris was so angry he couldn’t speak. He simply stared at the sight. Lydia looked nonplussed and Allison began to cry. Some people had already noticed from the doorway so Chris did the only thing he could think of. He shut the door counted to five in his head and turned back around to face them.
Lydia wasn’t related to Chris, so she didn’t care. She gave him an accusatory look of her own. “What are you doing here?”
“Chris?” Peter blinked in confusion as he realized it really was Chris standing there with a gun pointed at him.
“They’re underage, Peter.” Chris snarled. “They shouldn’t even have gotten into the party!” He glared hard at Lydia, sure it was her fault.
“Dad!” Allison exclaimed, annoyed that he seemed to already be blaming her girlfriend. “Peter didn’t know. It was my idea! Don’t blame Lydia, I talked her into it!”
“Dad?…” Peter rubbed his forehead and dislodged himself from Lydia. “Christopher?” He gave the man a heartfelt look. “Why are you pointing a gun at me?”
Lydia gave Chris a scathing look. “All this time, you knew him?”
“He works for me.” Peter staggered to get a drink.
“You what?!?” Allison shrieked.
“Girls? Out!” Chris told them sharply. “Go get in your car and go straight home. I’m going to call Victoria and Mrs Martin and they will be waiting for you.” The anger hadn’t abated. He was furious at Peter and he did not put away his gun.
“YOU’RE HIM!” Lydia cackled suddenly. “You’re the guy Peter was talking about in the song! Allison… Oh My God. Your father is dating Peter Hale!” Her voice was loud enough that anyone listening by the door would have heard. Certainly any other werewolves.
“He is not!” Allison scoffed.
“Out!” Chris told them fiercely.
“He is! Look at his face.” Lydia gestured wildly towards Peter who was staring at Chris sadly. “This is HUGE!”
“Dad?” Allison squeaked at Chris. “Is this true?”
“It’s none of your business.” Chris croaked. “OUT!” He hoped to god he made it up there before Peter took too much of whatever he’d taken tonight.
Lydia took Allison’s arm, “Come on, let's go.” She tugged her friend out of there and left Chris alone to deal with Peter.
Peter rested his hands against the bedroom desk and clenched his fists. “No one up here is supposed to be under eighteen.” He tried.
“Save it,” Chris snapped. “I would have stopped them if I had been here. Someone obviously gave them passes.” He wasn’t sure who he was angrier at. Peter or the girls. “You want to be someone different? Huh? Look at you. You’re the same asshole you’ve always been. You’ll fuck anything that moves. What did you take?”
Peter looked over at him miserably. “Nothing serious,” he mumbled. “It’s already wearing off.”
“I came to talk to you to tell you I have to leave again and make sure it didn’t make you do anything stupid. I came to tell you I can’t keep going like this. I wanted to tell you that I want more than just your body. I came to tell you that I didn’t want you to be anyone else. I came to tell you that you are who you are, and that’s who I wanted.” Chris didn’t lower his gun.
Peter sniffled slightly, bracing for the ‘but’.
“I came to tell you that I love you.” Chris exhaled. “That I can’t work for you anymore because it’s clouding everything I do.”
Peter exhaled and opened his mouth in shock.
“I’m getting migraines from trying to control my emotions and my body every time you’re in a room because I know you can smell those things!” Chris’ voice rose in frustration. “I can barely sleep and tonight on stage…”
Peter looked like he decided that it was better he didn’t inject anything, just let Chris get it out.
“Tonight on stage, you sang for me. You put your heart out there for the world to see and I felt myself fall off the ledge. I’m lost, Peter. I’m so fucking in love with you I can’t see straight.” Chris shuddered. “But tonight…”
“I saw all those people touching you on stage and I hated it. I was angry because why should they get to touch you when I couldn’t. Then my daughter. Fuck.” Chris shuddered again. “I had to get out of there because I was so mad. I had to come up here first before I dealt with them. I wanted to make sure you knew, I heard the message.”
“My daughter, Peter. You touched my daughter.” Chris’ tone rose and fell.
“I thought you’d left.” Peter said quickly, “I thought you’d heard the message and fled. I thought I’d never see you again. I was upset, I didn’t care who it was in here.” He knew it sounded bad even as he said it. “God, Christopher. I’m sorry.”
Chris advanced on him. “You want so badly to fuck? Get on the bed.” He was still angry.
“What?” Peter stepped back.
“Get on the bed, Peter.” Chris opened his belt.
Evidently Peter's desire for Chris outweighed his ability to make good decisions because Peter did exactly that, he got on the bed.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Chris muttered. His belt ended up on the floor somewhere, he toed off his boots, and unzipped his jeans. All the while, the gun remained. “Come on, Peter, keep up. I can’t fuck you with your pants on.”
Peter stared at it, a cross between terrified and turned on. He looked confused as to why Chris still had the gun...and a little concerned by the crazed look in the guard’s eyes. He apparently decided it was a better idea to comply than to try and argue. Unless Chris was packing wolfsbane bullets or aconite, he had nothing to worry about. Well, it would be painful. He sat on the edge of the bed, legs parted and hands resting on his thighs.
Chris didn’t truly have any desire to compare dick sizes but he was pleased with what he saw. “You want me inside you?” He asked harshly as he moved towards the bed and stood there. “Let's see how badly.”
Peter gazed at Chris’ tat briefly and looked up at him. The drug was already worn off and he obviously knew how bad it look because he opted to placate Chris. He inched closer, well aware that the gun was directed at an angle that pointed at his crotch.
Chris couldn’t steady his breathing. He couldn’t control his emotions. Everything had just spun on it’s axis and he was left with an incredible urge to just fucking take. Take everything Peter was offering him. Take it and make it his. Fuck him until he couldn't remember what anyone else felt like, ruin him, debauch him and accept nothing less than total surrender.
So that’s why he was so surprised when he could only stand there and stare in abject fascination when Peter leaned down to kiss the wrist that held his gun. The kiss was light and sweet at first and Peter gently cradled Chris’ wrist with both hands as if he was about to worship it. He kissed his way to Chris’ knuckles and swept his tongue along the spaces between his fingers. He brought the hand up until the gun was pointed directly at Peter’s face.
Acting like someone with nothing more to lose, Peter opened his mouth and took the barrel of Chris’ gun into it. He licked and sucked it and his fingers stroked Chris’ wrist. He looked up at Chris’ shocked face and kept working on the gun.
Chris moved, but only to straddle Peter’s legs. He wasn’t about to stop Peter from what he was doing. No, a fire burned inside him, encouraging him to work with it. He was both mortified and intrigued by how much this turned him on. He experimented by pulling the gun slightly out and then into Peter’s lips. His hard cock rested against the wolf’s chest, ready for immediate action, hard and leaking as it slid against Peter’s bare chest and smeared precum on the wolf.
He loosened his hold on the gun when pressure began to build up in him. “Fuck…” Chris groaned. “Peter…” Peter moved one hand to grip Chris’ cock. His hold on the gun became slack and he removed it from Peter’s mouth. Saliva dripped from his puffy, red lips and Chris carefully laid the gun aside. Then he was kissing Peter. His tongue invaded the wolf’s lips as rudely as the gun did. He fucked his dick into Peter’s hand for a few more minutes and was soon coming all over the wolf's chest in a hot, dazed mess. He collapsed on his back next to Peter and shuddered, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
And when he had the presence of mind to turn and look he saw Peter drawing circles on his chest with the Chris' cum. He smeared it like it was a trophy and the wolf moaned Chris’ name and met his eyes. He tried to think, tried to remember all of the history and traditions he’d read about werewolves and what that meant.
“Are you…” Chris swallowed.
“Yours.” Peter exhaled. “Your scent on me. That’s what this means.”
“But Erica? Others…”
“Erica helped keep me from depression.” Peter reached over and rested his knuckles against Chris’ cheek. “I’m a consummate fuck up, Christopher, but I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”
“I don’t want you to be anything other than what you are.” Chris turned and leaned on his elbow, all the anger had been chased away. He caught Peter’s hand and laced their fingers together. “I don’t need you to be what you think I want.” He shimmied down the sheets and kissed Peter’s thigh. “Being you is why I fell in love with you.”
Peter’s smile was brilliant when he gazed down at Chris. “Yeah?” He mumbled as Chris got between his legs.
“Yeah,” Chris nuzzled his beard against Peter’s cock. It had been a long time but sucking dick was rather like riding a bike, one didn’t forget how. He was pretty sure that Peter didn’t mind how he did it, just that he did. While Peter’s hands gripped the sheets he lowered his lips onto his cock and hollowed out his cheeks. He coughed a bit, gagging a little since he wasn’t used to it but he got there.
Little sounds started to come from the wolf. Hitches of breath and delicious whines and whimpers of “Chris… oh...please… Christopher…” filled the room.
Chris used his hands to gently edge Peter’s legs further apart and only lifted up his head off to whisper: “Lube?”
“No… Just whatever.” Peter shook his head. “Don’t stop. You’re hard again?”
Chris spit into his fingers, chuckled and resumed his task. He just used one at first while he explored Peter’s tight hole, teasing it while he brought Peter off with his mouth. By that time the wolf was already a keening mess. He used Peter’s own cum to slick his cock and nearly howled himself when Peter reversed their positions and he was the one on his back.
And Peter rode him.
Chris gazed up at the vision of it. Peter was everything he could ever want and he’d never wish to change him. Their hands explored each other but it was Peter who set the pace, Peter who took them both again to dizzying heights of ecstasy. He’d tried his damndest to fight this. He ‘d tried to keep this professional.
And failed miserably.
He was in love.
He held Peter against him once they both collapsed from the impact of their activities. Peter snuggled up to him and snored softly, exhausted but smiling. Chris lay there hours later, stroking Peter’s hair and staring at the ceiling. He had been so angry when he had found Allison here earlier but it wasn’t Peter’s fault. He knew that now.
Truth of it is that Chris was to blame. He had failed in his duties tonight. He hadn’t screened the guests before they came upstairs like he usually did when he was in charge. His phone rang and it was in his pants...on the floor. He made as if to get up but Peter held tight. “I’ll be right back.” He picked up the phone and settled back into the bed so that Peter could hold on to him and drift back to sleep.
“Victoria?” Chris answered. “Is Allison home?”
“Yes, and she’s incredibly upset.” Victoria responded tersely. “What happened? She says everyone’s talking about you now. There are reporters trying to find your address. Thank god we’re unlisted.”
“Shit...people were listening, or Lydia didn’t keep her mouth shut.” Chris sighed. “Victoria, I’ll drive there tomorrow. Right now, I need to be here. Can you hold things together until then?”
“If any reporters come to the door I’m going to shoot them.” Victoria grunted. “Is Peter with you?”
“Yes,” Chris nodded.
“Did you sort things out?”
“More or less.” Chris nodded.
“Are you happy?”
Peter smiled cutely from his position and Chris knew very well he was listening.
“I am,” Chris nodded. “Peter’s awake.”
Victoria laughed. “Good. I’ll handle things here for now.”
Chris hung up the phone and shifted slightly, “Peter?”
Peter held on tighter.
“That was my wife. It’s a bit complicated but I have no obligation to stay married to her.” Chris decided just to make it clear. “We were both just using the status for convenience.”
Peter opened one eye. “Are you going to get a divorce?”
“Well that depends on you.” Chris kissed his forehead. “Do you want me to? Is this a one time thing?”
“Christopher, I spread your cum on my chest.” Peter sounded somewhat affronted by the question.
“I’ll take that as a yes and you can explain Werewolf customs later.”
“What about you? My life is difficult.” Peter burrowed a bit more against him if it was possible. “I don’t want to stop singing.”
“I don’t want you to.” Chris stroked Peter’s hair. “I love it when you sing, actually it’ll probably be a good thing because the moment my father gets wind of this I’m out of a job.”
“You don’t sound upset about that.”
“Not really, I hate working for him.” Chris admitted. “I’ll figure something out. I need to support Allison.”
“I’ve got loads of money.” Peter gave a soft snort to that. “I’ll give you some.”
“No.” Chris immediately shook his head. “I don’t want your fame or fortune, Peter and I can’t be your head of security anymore and I’m not going to follow you around like a groupie, either.”
“So what are you going to do?” Peter was fully awake now, even though he didn’t want to be.
“Right now? Sleep.” Chris put his phone on the bedside table.
Peter closed his eyes again and Chris held him.
“And take up fucking you to pass the time.” Chris promised.
There was a media frenzy, angry relatives, a distressed daughter and a divorce to deal with before their relationship could progress.
But Chris did make good on his promise.
Peter never needed another lover.