Work Text:
Teen Wolf || Stargent || The Hunter and the Emissary || Stargent || Teen Wolf
Title: The Hunter and the Emissary – Mischief Mondays Series
TW Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Jeff Davis and MTV. This fanfiction on the other hand is entirely mine. No money is made with this, though reviews are more than welcomed.
Tags: m/m, No Hale Fire, Spark Stiles, Emissary Stiles, explicit intercourse, anal, oral
Main Pairing: Chris/Stiles
Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Chris Argent, Allison Argent, Noah Stilinski
Summary: After Kate and then Gerard die in Beacon Hills, Chris decides to move there and get to the bottom of this. He moves in next door to the Stilinskis. Allison befriends Stiles, the Emissary of the Hale Pack. And Chris? Chris finds himself falling for him.
The Hunter and the Emissary
Mischief Mondays Series
When Stiles opened the door that morning, he regretted not getting dressed first. He was only wearing low-riding sleep pants, the black, thin material comfortable in the slowly warming spring nights, and a Batman shirt he'd gotten from Erica last year that was so worn-out, the neckline kept slipping off his shoulder. His hair was also a fluffy, unkempt mess.
He felt severely underdressed and silly compared to the two perfect people standing in front of him. A girl around his age with a dimpled smile and dark hair and behind her, the hottest silver fox Stiles had ever seen in his life. He had a well-kept and trimmed beard streaked with silver and his eyes were a steely blue that seemed to fixate Stiles in place. Also nice broad shoulders and strong arms and the way his shirt spanned over his chest was yummy too.
"Hello, we're the new neighbors! We just moved in next door and wanted to introduce ourselves," the girl with the dimples offered. "I'm Allison, this is my dad, Chris, and we made brownies!"
She thrust a tray of delicious smelling brownies at him. Stiles blinked, repeatedly. It was ten AM on a Sunday. This girl had too much energy and Stiles had none, because he'd spent all of last night researching the history of bonsai trees to prove a point to Boyd. The point had nothing to do with bonsai trees, but once he was on Wikipedia, one link led to another, and, well. Boyd was going to listen to a three hour lecture about bonsai trees today. Even if it won't prove the original point Stiles had tried to make, it was definitely going to prove the point of not arguing with Stiles unless one wanted a three hour long unrelated lecture (a point Boyd should actually already know).
"Thanks," Stiles said belatedly, looking down at the brownies. "Uh. I'm Stiles. Hold on a second."
He went inside to drop the brownies off on the counter and grab his dad. Noah made a sound of protest when he was pulled away from his coffee and his newspaper but he paused at the door.
"Hi," Stiles offered a still tired smile. "I'm Stiles and this is my dad, Sheriff Noah Stilinski. Nice to meet you. Dad, that's the new neighbors, Chris and Allison."
Chris held out his hand to Noah. "I already feel safer knowing the sheriff's just next door."
Noah offered a polite smile and shook the man's hand. Stiles let his eyes roam over Chris for another moment to appreciate the view. He liked older men. It was not a secret. And this man was fine. He was sure that if he showed the guy off to Lydia, Danny and Erica, they would totally agree.
"Welcome to the neighborhood," Noah nodded. "And I assume I can thank you for the brownies."
"If you think I'll let you have a single one of them, you're mistaken," Stiles snorted softly. "The others will be over tonight anyway so we're gonna eat them while plotting Junior Year."
"Oh, you're in Junior Year?" Allison's eyes lit up in excitement. "So am I. Or will I be, I guess."
There was something so genuine about her, like looking at a rainbow kitten or something, so Stiles followed an impulse, even though he knew he'd get to hear growling from the pups about it later. "Yeah? Why don't you come over later too, meet my friends. We're planning what we want to do this year, courses, activities, world domination. We can tell you which teachers to watch out for."
"Really?" Allison asked excitedly. "I mean, they wouldn't be bothered?"
She perked up and looked so relieved and happy and for a moment, Stiles wondered how often she'd been the outsider and new to town. This wasn't her first rodeo, he could tell immediately, she had introduced herself with such a routine in her voice. Stiles, who had spent his whole life in Beacon Hills, couldn't imagine having to go through being the new kid and knowing nobody.
Stiles used to be alone before he became the Hale Pack's Emissary in Training and then later found Scotty. But his social circle used to be small, the younger Hales and Scotty, until a rogue Alpha tore through the town turned Scott and four others – Jackson, Boyd, Erica and Isaac – who all joined the Hale Pack and suddenly, he had a big group of friends to care about. But he still remembered the before, even the before Scotty.
So yes, Stiles remembered what it felt like to be alone and he now knew what it felt like to have friends, a pack, who got his back. Looking at the hopeful look on Allison's face and seeing the loneliness in her eyes, Stiles decided to be her Scotty.
"Nah, I think you'll fit right in with us," Stiles declared with a broad grin.
/break\
Earlier this year, Chris' father and sister had gone to Beacon Hills after reports of a rogue Alpha werewolf. They never left the town. Chris had lost his wife a year prior during a hunt gone horribly wrong and he had lost his mother when he'd been barely a boy. So when Gerard and Kate died under questionable circumstances within a short period of time, Chris decided to come and investigate, because they had been the only family he'd left aside from is daughter Allison. He let Allison finish the school year and then moved them to Beacon Hills when the summer ended, after he took a few months to gather intel.
He met with the local pack's Alpha, Talia Hale, after he had all the intel he could get his hands on. Talia met him together with her Left Hand and her Right Hand. It was a show of strength and an act of intimidation. Chris met it with grace and inquired about his father.
When faced with hard evidence of what Kate and Gerard had done – hunting not the rogue Alpha but instead going after the Hale Pack directly.
Kate had apparently attempted to burn down the Hale House some six years ago, only failing because the pack's now Emissary and then Emissary in training had warded it heavily. She had run away back then, defeated, and returned this year to finish the job, under the guise of chasing the rogue Alpha (the longer Chris sat with it, the more he wondered if she had deliberately chased it into town, endangering the townspeople just to have a justifiable excuse to invade the Hale territory). But she'd failed, because the now Emissary was much stronger than he had been back then and the pack was more careful around her. In the end, the Left Hand – Peter Hale, the Alpha's brother – had torn Kate's throat out in defense of his pack after she'd abducted and tortured Derek Hale, the Alpha's only son.
And then came Gerard, to avenge his daughter. He had not only hunted the pack but he had tortured teenagers. Fiona Hale, the Right Hand, had shoved a folder with pictures at him. Photos documenting the injuries inflicted to two of the teen wolves and one of their human pack members, all three only sixteen at the time. The wolves were already mostly healed up, but the human boy? That would haunt Chris for a while to come. Pale skin blemished with bruising and cuts and scrapes, red blooming all over his body. Yet even so, defiant brown eyes stared into the camera. No tears, no frightful look. Only anger and stubborn determination.
Chris had no idea how to process that, or how to react to that. He just sat there, in front of the three wolves, shell-shocked. The chemo-signals he was giving off were something that couldn't be faked. It was real anguish, according to Talia, and he passed their little test. The pictures in particular had been for shock-value, to see if he had been in on what his family was doing.
He apologized on their behalf, for what it was worth, and asked to try and make reparations. After he had lost his wife, he had been adrift and he knew this life style wasn't for Allison anymore. She deserved to finish her last two years of high school somewhere stable, where he could take the time and focus on her training. Raising her to be the future Argent matriarch, to follow into the footsteps of Chris' own mother. He asked the Hale Alpha if he could do so in Beacon Hills, offering the pack protection. Not just aid when someone was attacking the town, but a treaty with the Argents went a long way in keeping the territory save from other corrupt hunters.
Talia regarded him long and hard before she nodded her agreement, even as her Left Hand protested. Chris bought a house and told Allison about the move and now they were living in Beacon Hills. Allison was so excited about the promise of getting to stay here and graduate here. Of putting down roots. To do it right, she baked brownies for their neighbors.
The boy with the defiant eyes opened the door. All bruises and cuts had healed by now and the soft, sleepy look made him look vastly different than in the files the Hales had handed Chris, but it was definitely him. The moles, the upturned nose, the intense eyes framed by long lashes. A member of the Hale Pack was living directly next to them. A member who had been tortured by Chris' father. The reveal that the boy's father was the sheriff only added to the heavy feeling in his stomach.
The boy was kind. He offered Allison to come over and meet his friends, offered her to form bonds even before the school year started tomorrow. It made Chris feel warm and undeserving. When Allison returned home that evening, late and happy, talking excitedly about Stiles and Lydia and about half a dozen others that Chris couldn't remember, Chris felt like he had made the right call. All he wanted in this world was for Allison to be happy.
The next day, when Chris found himself at the business end of a gun, he wondered if it'd really been the right call. He was in the store that he'd bought, a hunting and camping store with a shooting range that would find use by the (regular human) hunters in town and the sheriff station. Slowly, he lifted his hands, his eyes locked with hard golden-brown ones.
"Argent," Stiles said evenly. "When you introduced yourselves, you forgot to mention that."
"You're a member of the Hale Pack," Chris kept his voice soft. "The Right Hand showed me…"
There was a flicker in Stiles' eyes, pain and anger, but he held the gun steady. "Yeah, your dad did a number on me. I will not be caught off-guard again by an Argent. I stopped your sister from burning down my pack and I helped Peter catch her when she came back. I was enough of a nuisance that your father got his own hands dirty with my blood. I do not fear you."
It took Chris a moment to piece it together, but then his eyes widened. "You're the Emissary."
"I'm young, yeah," Stiles' lips curled into a sarcastic smile. "It really hurt your sister's pride that her grand plan was thwarted by a ten year old, you know."
"I don't mean you or your pack any harm," Chris offered carefully.
"Yeah, I'm sure your sister had honey-sweetened words too when she seduced Derek for intel when he was fifteen," Stiles sneered at him. "Your father thought to recruit me, thought brave and vicious and clever would make a good hunter, before he realized I'm the Emissary. Argents are good with words. Words mean nothing. Deeds do."
"That's why I'm here," Chris tried to look as genuine as he possibly could. "Your Alpha showed me what my family has done to your pack. I want to make amends. I believe in our code, I uphold what my mother has taught me before her death."
Stiles narrowed his eyes at him, gun still steady in his hand. "My Alpha believes in redemption. She believes you. Me? I'm more with our Left Hand. I believe in blood for blood and revenge. The dead can't double cross you."
It had been a while since Chris last feared for his life, but the steel in the boy's words and the hardness of his eyes had Chris swallow hard. And then, just like that, Stiles lowered his gun, put the safety back on and put it into the pocket of his red hoodie.
"I follow my Alpha's orders," Stiles ground out. "As long as you behave yourself, you are not to be harmed. The moment you step out of line and hurt any member of my pack, I'll help Peter hunt you down and you won't see us coming."
All Chris could do was nod slowly and watch the boy leave. He was mildly concerned by the half-hard situation in his pants. That boy was vicious and ruthless and fiercely loyal and protective. He also looked damn good holding a gun. Chris rubbed his face. This was going to be a problem.
/break\
Against Stiles' fears and expectations, Chris Argent seemed to not be a problem. Stiles had no idea what to do with that. He'd expected Chris to be like his father and sister, but he wasn't. He baked cookies for Allison to take to school and share with her friends (Stiles had absolutely used his magic to test them for mistletoe or wolfsbane before letting any of his puppies try them). He helped the betas with French homework. His eyes crinkled prettily when he smiled and his voice could drop into such a low grovel that Stiles' stomach made back-flips.
Two weeks after they moved to Beacon Hills, Chris told his daughter the truth about hunters and werewolves and she was officially introduced to the pack. Though Stiles had been genuine in his offer of friendship and help, the moment he learned they were Argents, he did shut down some. He still spent time with Allison, mostly to keep an eye on her. The more time passed, the more he realized that she actually was kittens and rainbows.
She was sweet and kind and innocent in a manner Stiles forgot what that felt like, because she'd not been touched by the horrors of this supernatural world. And even when she learned how her mother had really died, it… it had made her run to Stiles, knocking on his door and crying in his lap, because she didn't have friends yet and Stiles had been nice and Stiles was right next door. When he held her while she cried about her dead mom, something in Stiles cracked for her. Things changed, after that. He'd grown attached to her.
She didn't make him regret it. She integrated well into the group, bonding especially with Stiles, Lydia and Jackson. And Scott, though in a different way. Stiles got a front-row seat to seeing his best friend fall in love with the new girl and he got to see it from both sides.
"Stop laughing, Stiles," Allison groaned and threw a balled-up shirt at him.
"I just don't know why you called me and not Lydia. Or Erica," Stiles snickered.
Allison crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at him. "Because they will advise me on how to dress to impress a guy – which, Lydia and Erica's styles are not really me. But you? You are the person who knows Scott the best. You can help me figure out how to dress to impress him."
A fond smile spread over Stiles' lips as he got off her bed and walked over to her closet. He really had grown attached to her and she had brought some… normalcy to their lives. The summer had been calm, sure, but sophomore year had been actual hell with one attack and danger after the other. When their friend group had formed, it had formed around protecting themselves and fighting for their lives. This was different. This was making a friend in times of peace, bonding over movie nights and school gossip and boys. It felt… soft and nice.
"Ally, you could wear a potato sack and Scott would stare at you slack-jawed," Stiles pointed out. "So don't… don't do anything out of this world. Just… be yourself."
He went through her closet and picked the top that Scott had said made her eyes look even brighter, and the skirt that had caused him to run into a street lamp two weeks ago. Allison offered him the brightest smile and a tight hug before shoving him out of her room so she could get changed.
"You're spending an awful lot of time in my daughter's bedroom."
Stiles looked up at Chris Argent and then he swallowed hard, because the man was only wearing jeans and a white tank top that was very tightly spanning over the man's chest. He was glistening with sweat, chest heaving with his breath. There was some dirt smeared on his tank top and on his forehead where he must have wiped off sweat, the knees of his jeans dirty too. Apparently, Chris Argent did garden work. Stiles would love to sip lemonade in a sun chair and watch that show.
"I'm gay," Stiles said amused. "You don't have to worry about me in her room. This, right now? Is purely a fashion advise kinda thing."
Chris gave a grunt and headed toward the kitchen. Stiles trailed him, also because that gave him a perfect view on the man's very perfect ass. A little voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Peter kept telling him to stop drooling over the Argent hunter. Good thing Stiles was excellent at ignoring Peter, real or in his head. And Chris Argent was fine.
"How's it going?" Stiles asked as he sat down at the kitchen table.
"I'm sure you have heard all about it from Peter," Chris muttered annoyed.
"Oh, I have. He calls me to complain about you every time you two go on patrol together, it's the highlight of my day," Stiles offered a shit-eating grin. "I always thought me and Scott were the only banes of Peter's existence. It's nice to share the burden."
Chris snorted and got himself a beer from the fridge. Stiles watched the bulge of his muscles when he got the cap off. Damn, Stiles was really getting thirsty over here.
"It's been a couple weeks now and you have been holding up your end of the deal," Stiles noted more seriously. "You've been training your daughter but she is still as buddy-buddy with the wolves as she was at the beginning. You have been working with the pack, sharing information with Tali and going on patrol with Peter. You helped Cora with her French homework."
"Thank you for the glowing review," Chris snorted amused, eyes sparkling.
"I talked to Dalia – my mentor, Talia's mother – and we agreed…" Stiles heaved a sigh. "As you are an ally to the pack, I am offering you protection wards against the Darach."
Chris' eyes widened in surprise. "You… what?"
"You're helping us hunt the Darach, you're making yourself and your daughter a target for them too," Stiles shrugged. "So, you deserve special protection from them. They could still snatch you off the street or at school or work, but I can ward your house against ill intent so you can sleep safe and you have a place to come to if you are being chased."
The look on Chris' face softened and so did his voice. "Thank you."
Genuine squishy feelings weren't Stiles' so he squirmed and waved him off. "I'll get started when Ally leaves for her date. It'll take me four or five hours though, to ward the whole house though."
"What do you need? Can I do anything to help?"
"I'll prep everything now so I'll be good to go. Just… don't bother me until I'm done?"
Chris nodded sharply and he kept regarding Stiles an unreadable look. "Wait. What do you mean Allison leaves for her date? Who is she going on a date with?"
"Sorry, Christopher, gotta do important Emissary work here," Stiles chimed lightly.
/break\
Allison went on a date with Scott McCall. It felt like the ultimate test for Chris, to have his daughter date a werewolf. At least she had picked the most puppy-dog werewolf of them all. That boy was sunshine and puppy smiles, it was genuinely disturbing. And when she came home, she was practically glowing, sharing all the details with him in excitement, before heading to bed.
Chris stayed up. He stayed close to Stiles, not letting the boy out of his sight. Stiles had started out by carving runes into all doors and windows, then he smeared some kind of paste he'd made before along all window and door-frames. The final stage was some kind of ritual, Stiles sitting cross-legged in the living room, eyes closed and breathing slow and deep, mumbling some words every now and again that Chris couldn't make out. There was something ethereal to Stiles performing magic, made more prominent by the storm going wild outside. Rain was whipping against the windows, the trees were rattling loud with the wind. It had been sunny all day, not a hint of a storm cloud. Something told Chris this storm was related to Stiles.
And then Stiles opened his eyes for the first time, startling Chris with their bright teal-colored glow. When Stiles blinked, the glow faded. Druids didn't have glowing eyes. Chris had never seen a creature with teal-colored glowing eyes before. For a long moment, Chris just watched Stiles, wary and curious, until the boy got up and promptly stumbled. If not for Chris catching him by the arm, Stiles would have gone down. Big doe-eyes blinked at him, unfocused. Carefully did he pull Stiles up against his chest, wrapping one steadying arm around the boy's waist.
"Easy, baby," Chris murmured lowly. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Stiles blinked rapidly, resting a hand on Chris' chest. "Yeah, just… A big warding like this is really exhausting. When I warded the Hale House, I did it together with Dalia. Same with mine."
Chris hummed and lifted his hand up to cup Stiles' cheek, the other arm still around Stiles' waist, still keeping Stiles pressed against himself. He could count Stiles' long lashes with how close they were right now, feel the boy's body-heat against himself.
"You should have let your mentor help then," Chris frowned.
"I'm not a trainee anymore, Chris," Stiles glared at him. "I'm the Emissary of the Hale Pack. Dalia is happily retired. I can ward a damn house myself."
Heaving a sigh, Chris tightened his arm around the boy to keep him from bolting. "I don't doubt you. I don't know what you are, but you clearly are powerful. I just don't want you to push yourself. You don't need to drain yourself to ward my house."
There was a light, sweet blush on Stiles' cheeks at that. "I'll be fine."
Chris nodded. "I'll help you to your house. Is your dad home, to keep an eye on you?"
Stiles rolled his eyes with a sigh. "Dad's working. And I don't need a babysitter."
Humming, Chris guided Stiles over to the couch instead. "You are staying here. What do you need? Juice? Wait here, I'm getting you a juice."
Stiles snorted softly. "I didn't donate blood. I used my magic."
"Then tell me what will help," Chris glared and shoved a juice box at Stiles.
Despite his protests, Stiles jabbed the straw in and sucked the thing dry in under ten seconds. "Pizza? It does take a lot of energy and I always feel kinda starved."
"Pizza it is," Chris nodded and got his phone out. "What do you want?"
/break\
Stiles woke up feeling very comfortable and warm. He blinked blearily and looked around, immediately spotting Chris right next to him on the bed. The bed Stiles was not familiar with. Wiggling his nose, Stiles stretched wide and made a soft noise.
"You make kitten noises," Chris commented amused. "How do you feel?"
"Good," Stiles blinked. "How did I end up in your bed?"
"You fell asleep after eating both pizzas," Chris looked mostly amused. "I didn't want to bring you to your home because you shouldn't be alone. I didn't want to let you sleep on the couch either."
"So your bed was the conclusion?" Stiles blinked up at the man.
Slowly, Stiles sat up, regarding Chris. Stiles couldn't deny his attraction to Chris – mostly because his wolves kept teasing him about it, none more merciless than Erica and Peter (though Peter always with a warning, Protective Wolf). Swallowing hard, Stiles crawled closer to Chris. He noticed things. Lingering glances, dark eyes. While they were hunting the Darach, Chris seemed protective of Stiles, had pushed him out of the way and behind Chris to protect him.
"Are you being nice and protective of me because I'm the breakable human of the Hale Pack so you're keeping an eye on me as part of your treaty with Tali?" Stiles asked. "Or is it… more?"
"More?" Chris asked tensely, watching Stiles with wary eyes.
Biting his bottom lip and dragging it through his teeth, Stiles decided to be daring. He threw one leg over Chris' thighs, straddling the hunter's lap. Chris' breath hitched, but he didn't push Stiles off. That was a good sign, right? Stiles carefully laid his arms around Chris' neck.
"More," Stiles nodded and licked his lips.
His heart jumped when Chris watched the motion of his tongue enraptured. Chris' hands came to rest on Stiles' hips and for a second, Stiles feared to be pushed off. Instead, he was just held.
"You," Chris' voice was low and dark. "You're many things but you aren't 'the breakable human'. You know to hold your own, with your gun or your magic. You aren't human, I know that, but it doesn't matter. You are… You are everything."
"Everything?" Stiles' heart raced hard.
"You're competent, beautiful, strong, clever, powerful."
Grinning pleased, Stiles cupped Chris' face. "Okay. So you want me?"
"More than I should," Chris heaved a sigh. "Your father would shoot me. Your pack would tear me to shreds. Heaven knows Peter is already growling at me every time I get too close to you."
"Mhmh," Stiles grinned impishly and leaned in until there was only a breath between their lips. "He looks at you and he looks at me and he sees Kate and Derek. He's afraid for me, because he sees me as a pup to protect. Thing is, I am half a year from turning eighteen, I'm not a wide-eyed fifteen year old kid. And you're not pretending to be something you're not. I know who you are, Christopher Alexander Argent. You're a hunter. But you're also a good man."
And that was true. For weeks, they had been working together to track the Darach, had been fighting side by side, patrolling and keeping the territory safe together. Stiles knew for a fact that Chris was a good man. Leaning in, Stiles kissed him properly, deeply. The hands on his waist wandered, cupping Stiles' ass and pulling him closer until their clothed dicks brushed against each other. Stiles moaned wantonly into the kiss. His fingers carded through Chris' beard.
"My dad doesn't have to know until I'm eighteen," Stiles whispered softly. "And my pack knows that I will retaliate viciously against those who try to patronize me. Tali tried to mom me when I first became Dalia's apprentice and I made her quickly change her tune and also made her respect me. I'm not a kid. I've experienced more than most adults."
"I know that," Chris whispered, a flash of guilt passing over his face.
"No," Stiles growled, holding Chris' face a little tighter. "You will not go all guilty kicked puppy about what your father and sister did to me. I won't let you make me feel like you're only with me out of guilt, trying to make up for something they did. I want to feel like you are with me for me."
Chris nodded sharply, giving Stiles' ass a squeeze and pulling him closer. "Duly noted. I want you for you."
He captured Stiles' lips in another kiss, this one getting more heated. Their hands started wandering, though Chris' came back to Stiles' ass over and over again, until Stiles was painfully hard and kept rubbing their dicks together. Growling darkly, Chris grabbed Stiles by the waist and threw him off.
"Wha-" Stiles made a strangled, disappointed noise.
The noise died when he saw Chris pull his shirt off. Oh, okay. They were moving on. Stiles scrambled up and also got rid of his own shirt. He squirmed self-consciously when he saw Chris' muscular form and the tattoos on the man's chest. Stiles licked his lips.
"God, you're beautiful, baby," Chris whispered as he pinned Stiles to the mattress.
Stiles' cheeks flushed and he arched into Chris' touch when the man opened Stiles' pants and pulled them off. Once Stiles was naked, he watched transfixed how Chris undressed. His mouth watered when he saw Chris' heavy, hard cock. Scrambling onto his hands and knees, Stiles crawled to the edge of the bed, keeping his eyes on Chris' cock. The hunter stepped up to him and carded his fingers through Stiles' hair, slowly guiding his face toward the hard cock.
"You want this, baby?" Chris asked darkly, keeping Stiles from getting closer by his hair. "Ah, ah, ah. If you want something, you should ask for it nicely."
Stiles' cock jerked at that and he started pawing at the bed. "Please lemme suck your cock, I have been thinking about that for weeks, actually."
He let his mouth fall open and stared at Chris hopefully. Chris' eyes were dark and he eased his grip on Stiles' hair, instead pushing him encouragingly closer to the delicious looking cock. He lapped at it with his tongue, tasting the pre-cum pearling at the tip, before wrapping his lips around it and swallowing more and more of the thick cock that felt so good in his mouth. Stiles got lost in the sensation of bobbing his head, feeling and tasting Chris' cock.
"Wait, kitten," Chris gasped, pulling Stiles off his dick. "I'm close. Do you want me to finish in your mouth, or do you want… I want to fuck you, Stiles. Can I?"
Stiles made a squeaky noise and collapsed backward onto the bed. He also let his legs fall apart. It earned him a dark growl from Chris, before the man climbed onto the bed and sat down between Stiles' legs. He reached for the nightstand and got lube out.
"What did I tell you about having to ask nicely, baby?" Chris asked, voice a growl in Stiles' ear.
Stiles shuddered and the shudder got worse when Chris' beard scratched along his throat. "Please fuck me, I really want you to fuck me. When I come to your shooting range, I sometimes think about you bending me over the counter and fucking me in your shop."
The noise Chris made was dark and hungry, his lips and teeth working over Stiles neck. "I wouldn't. I wouldn't want anyone to see you. You're mine."
Fuck, that was somehow even hotter. Stiles' cock leaked pre-cum desperately. Lubed-up fingers started opening him up, playing with him, drawing all kinds of moans and whines from him while thrusting into him, until Stiles was clawing at Chris' back and bucking back against him.
"So needy," Chris murmured fondly, kissing along Stiles' collarbone. "My pretty boy."
Stiles keened, feeling ready to pass out from how overwhelmed he felt. The fingers retreated and Stiles protested softly, making Chris chuckle. The thick cock he'd tasted earlier was now breaching him, pushing into him. That was amazing, Stiles had no idea how he'd survived so far without Chris' cock inside him, spreading him so far open, filling him up.
"You're beautiful on my cock like that," Chris whispered, licking over Stiles' nipples.
The additional stimulation made Stiles feel like he was seeing stars. Calloused fingers wrapped around Stiles' cock and just the difference alone – having someone else's hands on his cock, someone else's touch – was enough to send him over the edge embarrassingly fast. But Chris kept kissing him and showering him in praise and compliments throughout it, while still fucking into him. As overly sensitive as he was after his orgasm, every drag of Chris' cock felt like too much but somehow not enough too. And then Chris came. That was a very different sensation and Stiles was reduced to moaning and chanting of yesyesyes at it. Rolling over, Chris pulled Stiles against his chest. Stiles squirmed a little at the feeling of Chris' cum running down his thighs.
"Shower," Stiles declared, while nuzzling into Chris' chest. "In, like, ten minutes."
This was not what Stiles had expected when an Argent had moved in next door. Not at all.
~*~ The End ~*~