Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5128517.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Chris_Argent/Isaac_Lahey/Peter_Hale
  Character:
      Chris_Argent, Isaac_Lahey, Peter_Hale
  Additional Tags:
      Clubbing, Loss_of_Virginity, Older_Man/Younger_Man, Blow_Jobs, Implied
      Sexual_Content
  Collections:
      TWFallHarvest
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-12-01 Words: 4349
****** Between a Hunter and a Monster ******
by eeyore9990
Summary
     With all the virgins being sacrificed around Beacon Hills, Isaac
     Lahey is all too aware of the threat his own innocence poses. He's
     not had a lot of control over his life to this point; he wants to do
     this on his own terms.
     But when he goes to the club, the last people he expects to find
     there are Chris Argent and Peter Hale.
Notes
     Thanks to B and D for looking this over for me. You guys are the
     best!
     To Arabwel, I sincerely hope you enjoy this. Happy Fall Harvest!
Isaac stared down at the table where the map was set, little red flags marking
the places where they'd found the first three sacrifices. He didn't really see
them, though; they were a blur in front of his face as his vision focused
inward, trying to find a choice that wasn't completely awful. A choice that
felt like his instead of someone else's.
He'd had far too much of stumbling along in the direction life pulled him. He
wanted, for this one thing, to make his own decision.
With that thought in mind, he went upstairs and pulled on his tightest
clothing, ran his hand through his hair until it was just ruffled enough to
encourage other fingers to tunnel through the curly strands. He bit at his lips
until they were plump and red, inviting. And then he walked back downstairs
with purpose, striding quickly toward the door and undoing the locks and
alarms.
"Isaac," Derek's voice stopped him at the heavy door, made him hesitate. "You
don't have to do this. We'll — I'll figure something out."
Forcing a cocky smile to his lips, Isaac half turned and shrugged. "Not like I
was doing anything with it, right?"
"You're too young—"
"Yeah? Tell that to Heather. And that girl in the woods." When the skin around
Derek's eyes quivered with a flinch, Isaac rolled his shoulders back and shook
his head. "Whatever. It is what it is. I'll take care of this tonight, and
tomorrow we'll get back to finding the person responsible for these murders."
At the misery hanging thick in the air, Isaac softened his voice and said,
"It's fine, Derek. I promise. This isn't—"
Suddenly, Derek was right there, too close. His hand reached out, but didn't
touch — probably because Isaac still flinched from hands coming toward him.
"I'll do it."
That startled a sharp bark of laughter from Isaac, which trailed off into a
horrified gulp. "I appreciate the thought. I really do." Isaac's fingers
twitched as he briefly considered reaching out, laying a consoling hand on
Derek's arm. "But there's not a chance in hell. I mean, you're my Alpha, that
would be…" When Derek's shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit, Isaac ducked his
head to hide the way his eyes rolled. "Ugh. Just stay here, see if you can find
out anything else. I'll be back in a few hours. Okay?"
But Derek was already turning away, doing his best to hide the sting of
rejection that traveled so easily through their bond. Isaac forced down the
nearly overwhelming need to take it back, to agree to anything if it would just
soothe his alpha.
Derek had enough sex-related issues without knowing his alpha influence had
pushed Isaac into sleeping with him.
Resolve strengthened, Isaac tugged the heavy door open and pushed it closed
behind him, not stepping away until he heard Derek engaging the alarms once
more.
===============================================================================
Chris replaced the nozzle into the gas pump, waiting for his receipt to spit
out when he noticed movement from the corner of his eye. Turning fluidly,
keeping his movements natural as he abandoned the receipt and moved toward the
driver's side door, he scanned the surrounding area.
He shouldn't be here; this particular gas station was far enough away from his
new apartment that, if Allison found out, she'd be disappointed. The fact that
it was in viewing distance of the front entrance to Derek Hale's apartment
would make it even worse.
But Chris' hunting instincts were too strong to give up completely. The voice
in the back of his head that whispered — in his father's voice — that the town
'wolves were dangerous wasn't easily silenced.
So when Chris saw a dark shadow slip through the entrance and out into the
night… he couldn't help but follow.
===============================================================================
Isaac entered the club, nerves twanging as clashing scents hit his nose and
nearly made him recoil. Too much cologne, perfume, alcohol, and arousal
combined into a sickly overwhelming scent, forcing him to breathe through his
mouth. He was never going to find a partner to relieve him of his virginity if
he couldn't get hold of his senses.
Slipping into the mass of bodies writhing on the dance floor, Isaac allowed the
music to move through him, the beat vibrating in his bones as he drifted from
one blandly attractive person to the next.
Just because he had to do this to keep from becoming a victim didn't mean that
he wanted to regret it in the morning.
===============================================================================
Chris walked along the sidewalk, ignoring the flickering streetlamps that threw
dancing shadows across his path. He knew where he was going now, and quickened
his pace, every sense locked on the black metal doors that guarded the club his
prey had just slipped into.
It was his lack of focus on his surroundings that allowed him to be so easily
captured, he chided himself, as he was dragged into a darkened alley and thrust
up against a brick wall of questionable cleanliness. Keeping utterly calm, he
blandly acknowledged his captor with a gruff, "Hale."
White teeth flashed in the darkness, the points of them a little too sharp.
"Argent. Why are you following the boy?"
"You know why."
"Hunter," Peter Hale hissed with the same venom lacing his tone as when he'd
uttered Chris' family name.
A soft click accompanied Chris' smugly curving lips, and Peter's eyes flicked
down to the wolfsbane-soaked switchblade he was pressing into the 'wolf's side.
"Exactly. Mind your manners."
Peter snarled at him, but released him, stepping back. "Leave the boy alone.
He's done nothing to earn your attention."
Without another word, Peter turned and slipped out of the alley, putting a
little sway in his stride as he walked across the street to the club. The
music's brief increase in volume was all the signal Chris needed to follow
after him.
===============================================================================
Bodies pressed in around him, rubbing their scent into his skin. The heat of
the club had him sweaty, his hair plastered to his skin as he grinded against
the ass pressed back against his crotch. He felt taken over by the music,
transported above the nose-wrinkling stench of too many bodies pressed too
close in too tight a space.
He moved and danced and turned, arms a natural, graceful extension of his long,
lean body.
===============================================================================
When his eyes adjusted to the flickering lights cutting through the thick
darkness of the club, Chris spotted the bar and instantly started toward it.
He'd use its central location as a watch point and track the two men he'd
followed from there.
As he was half-shouting his order to the bartender — water only, because no
hunter worth their salt would dare walk around with impaired senses — he felt a
warm presence at his back. Somehow he knew, without even turning around, whose
chest it was that was pressed all hot and firm against his back.
"Hale," he muttered, not bothering to raise his voice over the blasting beat of
the obnoxious techno music. "We meet again. So soon."
"I told you to back off, Argent," Peter said, his breath humid against the
shell of Chris' ear. "Leave my pack alone. I won't warn you again."
Glass of water finally delivered, Chris turned around, not so gently elbowing
Peter out of his way. "If I didn't know better, Hale, I'd say you were acting
like a jealous boyfriend." At the look on Peter's face, Chris rolled his eyes.
"Put the fangs away before you call the wrong sort of attention to yourself.
I'm not the only hunter in this town, you know."
"Which is, again, not our fault. Unless you think the pack is dabbling in the
sort of magic that is inaccessible to our kind."
Chris tilted his head. "Not… entirely. The Stilinski boy—"
"Not our pack—"
"—successfully laid a circle of mountain ash around this very building."
Familiar rage rose in him at the memory of the events that had occurred that
evening. "I don't need to tell you what else he might be capable of."
"In my experience, those who lay mountain ash around buildings do so for the
purpose of burning entire families alive."
When Chris could finally unclench his jaw, he shot a narrow-eyed gaze at Peter.
"Why do you even care? Your 'pack' abandoned you here, then came back to kill
you. And succeeded. Just because you're standing here with me now doesn't
negate those actions. I'd think you'd be off somewhere in your lair of villainy
plotting your revenge."
Peter stared at him for a long minute before he relaxed back, stepping toward
the bar and putting his back to it as he leaned his elbows on the edge. His
eyes flickered over the throng moving in an odd synchronicity on the dance
floor before they apparently homed in on the Lahey kid. "The boy is… untouched.
Pure. It's been a long time since there was anything pure in my life. I'm oddly
touched and want to ensure that, virgin sacrifices or not, he doesn't come out
of his foolhardy quest with regrets."
Chris' eyebrows shot up and he followed Peter's gaze to where he could just
make out Isaac, pressed tight between two smaller bodies, his twisting, turning
length all grace and undulating hips. "He's…?"
"Apparently so. Not for lack of trying, I'm sure." Peter's gaze turned from
Isaac to Chris then before he smirked and said, "Is that interest I smell?"
"What?" Chris jerked his head to the side, shocked out of his nonchalant
attitude. "He's a child."
"He's an innocent, a boy who is fighting to protect himself." The way Peter let
that roll off his tongue made Chris bitterly aware that Peter was privy to the
new Argent motto. "Don't you want to help him, Argent? Don't you want to
protect him?"
"He's my daughter's age." There were certain lines Chris would not cross. This
was somewhere on the long list of them.
"Would you prefer I call the fresh young Argent huntress? Let her know her
services are needed?"
"What are you playing at, Hale?" Chris asked, aggression in every line of his
body, anger thrumming through him at the implied threat to Allison.
"Just passing time," Peter said, dismissing Chris with a flick of his eyes.
"Amusing myself at your expense is, as always, a treat." Pushing away from the
bar, Peter raked a disdainful gaze down Chris' body as he threw out his parting
shot. "If you'll excuse me now, it appears my young friend requires
protection."
Chris held himself back for a solid ten seconds before a breath punched out of
him in the form of a curse and he started pushing through the crowd that Peter
had flowed so gracefully through mere moments prior.
===============================================================================
Isaac had allowed himself a few hours to just dance, to relax and push away the
thought of what might happen to him if his plan for the evening didn't succeed.
To banish the thought that if this didn't work, what Derek might do to keep
Isaac safe.
That wasn't a thought that settled easily.
But as the minutes ticked by, as one dance turned into another, as one body
twirled away to be replaced with a different one, Isaac started to slowly
despair. None of this felt right. He wanted someone he could be comfortable
with, not some random stranger from the club. He wanted someone he might be
able to sleep beside, to wake up next to. Someone who might want to do those
things with him.
It was as the panic was starting to set in, as the dancing, whirling frenzy
around him went from close to crushing, that he felt an arm slip around his
waist and a firm chest press into his back. His new partner pressed their
forehead to the back of Isaac's neck, and he heard the soft, "Shhh, child. I've
got you."
The familiarity of that voice should increase his panic, he knew it should, but
the comfort of pack rose up from Peter's scent combined with the steadying grip
around his waist made Isaac relax. Dropping his head til his chin was nearly
touching his chest, Isaac asked, "Did Derek send you?"
"You credit Derek with far more foresight than he's capable at this point,
young one. I came on my own." Peter's grip on him was firm, but not
restricting, allowing Isaac to turn so their whispered conversation would be
just that bit more private. "I feel I must warn you, however, that you've
attracted attention of the unsavory sort."
Isaac raised his eyebrows at that before he followed the direction of Peter's
head tilt to see Allison's dad shouldering his way through the mass of bodies
on the dance floor. Blinking in bemusement, he looked back at Peter and asked,
"'Attention'? You don't mean… I mean, he's not interested in me."
"More than he's willing to admit, even to himself. Perhaps especially to
himself." Peter waited until Chris was close before reaching up a hand and
winding it around the back of Isaac's neck, grinding his hips in a slow, dirty
roll against Isaac's. "But maybe we can change that."
Isaac absentmindedly followed Peter's lead in the dance, taking quick peeks at
Chris as he let thoughts of Chris Argent fill his head. It wasn't… an
unpleasant thought. But everything Isaac knew of the man painted someone who
could become hostile, brutally angry even. As composed as he generally kept
himself, Isaac had seen true heat in this cold blue eyes before, and that…
Isaac wasn't willing to become anyone's punching bag.
"I'd never let him hurt you," Peter breathed into the sweaty skin of Isaac's
jaw as Chris drew even with them.
Chris just stood there, watching, not even bothering to dance by himself, much
to the annoyance of the crowd that tried to close in around him. His hands
clenched and unclenched at his sides as he watched Peter and Isaac dance, and
there was something about it that made Isaac flash back to the night at the
rave.
The rave that had happened right here, in almost this very spot.
He remembered the feel of Erica in his arms, her soft body pressed full and
warm and promising against him. He remembered looking past her, seeing the
angry passion in Jackson's eyes. A passion that was mirrored in the gaze locked
on his now.
Just like before, Isaac felt his lips curl upward in a predatory smirk, a
teasing promise of all that could be filling the air between him and Chris even
while Peter's body slid against his like a stripper sliding along a pole. Isaac
knew Peter was taunting Chris, just as Erica had been taunting Jackson that
night.
But this time, they weren't trying to entice a kanima out to play. This might
be even more dangerous, because the mouse to their cat this time was a seasoned
hunter. A man who knew their every weakness and had no qualms exploiting them.
===============================================================================
The irritation that had been prickling at Chris since he'd given in and started
following Peter through the crowd exploded into a hot thrumming in his veins as
soon as he got close enough to see the way Isaac and Peter were rubbing all
over each other. Peter, who was Chris' age, who was old enough to be Isaac's
father.
And the most aggravating part was that Isaac seemed not to mind at all. It was
like the boy had been waiting for this very moment all night. Like all the
dancing and grinding leading up to this had just been… foreplay.
Chris snarled, gaze catching Isaac's and locking on, demanding to be
acknowledged.
Then he was, and the acknowledgement was almost more than Chris was prepared
for. There was a heat in Isaac's eyes that was almost animalistic in nature,
but it called to uncivilized portion of Chris' brain. It whispered teasingly to
him, told him to move, to come closer. It told him he'd found everything he was
looking for, right here.
It was so hot, and so completely unexpected that it shocked the breath right
out of Chris' lungs and he had to look down, to break away first before he was
devoured with just a simple look. A simple look from a boy who knew nothing of
the promise in his eyes.
But in looking down, he got snared in the triumphant gleam in Peter Hale's
eyes. He saw the way Peter smirked at him, watched that hand — tipped with
claws and so very deadly — tighten on the back of Isaac's pale length of neck.
The hand that was so close to that lovely stretch of throat, close enough to
rip it out.
Chris jerked forward at the thought, his own body betraying his need to, yes,
protect this boy. This boy who could at one and the same time look like the
purest innocent and Chris' ultimate downfall.
===============================================================================
Peter growled, a low sound that was all frustration. If he left the rest of the
evening to these two idiots, they'd still be standing here eating each other up
with their eyes come morning. Ripping his gaze away from Chris, he opened his
mouth and stretched upward, closing his teeth in an almost cruel bite over the
join of Isaac's shoulder and neck.
Almost simultaneously, two things happened. The first was Isaac going nearly
limp in his arms, the bite triggering a deliciously submissive state in the
boy. The second was Chris leaping forward, that damned knife of his pressed
tight to Peter's neck — not breaking the skin, but not far from it either.
"Let him go, Hale," Chris snarled in his ear, violence in the stench of
aggression twining into his scent.
Peter sighed and pulled away with a soft little lick to Isaac's throat, eyes
lingering on the imprint of his very-human teeth in all that lovely skin.
"Look. He's unharmed. Down, boy."
Released, Isaac curled inward slowly until his head was nestled against Peter's
shoulder — which honestly couldn't be a very comfortable position for the boy,
considering Peter's height relative to his own. He hummed softly, breath
rushing over Peter even as he brought his hand up, his motions so slow they
appeared almost drugged. Grasping at Chris' wrist, he eased the knife from
Peter's throat and applied pressure until Chris dropped the knife entirely.
There wasn't even a hint of irritation on Chris' wrist when Isaac drew his
fingers away… though not entirely away. He seemed to delight in the texture of
the hair dotting Chris' arm, dragging the pads of his fingers through it as
little noises burst from his throat.
Peter smiled then, hiding it in Isaac's hair. "Tell me, little one," he
murmured, rolling his eyes up to read the look on Chris' face. "Tell me what
you want. Which one you want."
Isaac straightened again, one hand smoothing over the lowest part of Peter's
back, tugging him in tight to Isaac's body, even as he clenched his fingers
around Chris' arm and dragged him closer. "Both, I think. If it's okay, I think
I want… yeah. Both."
Peter raised an eyebrow at Chris in challenge until Chris sighed in defeat,
moving in and trapping Isaac's body between the two of them. A hunter and a
monster, and the boy had made them both his choice.
The evening looked promising indeed.
===============================================================================
As they walked through the door of Peter's downtown apartment — located a mere
five blocks from the club itself — the stillness inside was so different to the
atmosphere at the club that Chris began to have second thoughts.
Who was he kidding? He was having at least fifth or sixth thoughts at this
point, though the memory of Isaac's body moving against his while they'd danced
was one that had pushed many of his objections straight out of his head.
Turning to the boy, Chris laid a restraining hand on him and asked, "Are you
sure about this?" Gesturing between himself and Peter, he added, "We can't be
what you were hoping for when you walked in that club tonight."
Isaac looked from the hand on his arm to Chris' face and shrugged. "I want
someone who knows what they're doing. I want someone who will take care of me.
I want it to be my decision and not some psycho serial killer's. I think… I was
ready to leave when Peter showed up. It was too close in the club, too
stifling. But then I felt my pack. I felt your concern for me. And you're a
hunter. Do you even—" His teeth sunk into his lip, cutting himself off. Looking
down, his shoulders hunched as he whispered, "If you don't want me, I'll
understand. But I want this." He glanced between the two men with a shrug. "I
want this."
"Good enough for me!" Peter said with a soft clap of his hands. Striding
forward, he closed in on Isaac, hand wrapping around his neck again before
drawing him close to place a sucking kiss over his pulse.
The feel of lips there was akin to pouring fire-hot liquid arousal directly
into Isaac's veins. With a small whimper, he folded forward, pressing into the
mouth on his throat even as his hips hitched of their own volition.
Chris watched Peter's mouth open, watched as he pressed the flat of his tongue
to Isaac's throat and licked a long line up to the boy's jaw before nipping it
with his teeth. And he watched as Isaac's eyes rolled back in his head, watched
as the boy fell apart with just that small display.
He realized as his nails cut into the palms of his hands that he wanted that.
He wanted Isaac falling apart for him. He wanted to wipe the smirk off of
Peter's smug face. He wanted to have both these 'wolves at his mercy.
Striding forward, he fisted his hand in the hair at the back of Isaac's head
and yanked, dragging him backward, away from Peter and toward Chris so that he
could get at the other side of Isaac's beautiful throat.
===============================================================================
Peter could smell it sharp on the air, the bitter scent of come. With Chris in
the game and successfully distracting Isaac, Peter dropped to his knees and
methodically undressed the boy from the waist down. Boots, socks, and absurd
skinny jeans all disappeared until Isaac was dressed only in the tight t-shirt
he'd started the night in and the even tighter briefs that did nothing to hide
the fact that the boy was about to spill all over himself.
Looking up the length of Isaac's body, Peter saw that Chris, though busily
sucking momentary bruises to Isaac's neck and shoulders, was watching Peter
avidly. With a slow, wicked grin, Peter leaned forward and dragged his open
mouth over the fabric-covered cock straining toward him. When he reached the
tip, which was wedged sideways under the elastic band of the underwear, he
closed his lips and sucked, dragging the flavor of come and laundry detergent
into his mouth.
Laundry detergent.
Wrinkling his nose, Peter carefully pulled the damp underwear away from Isaac's
body and slid them down his long, pale legs before taking the boy into his
mouth. It took only a few long sucks before Isaac was spilling down his throat
with a sharp cry of completion.
And then Peter sat back on his heels and waited, watching avidly as Chris'
hands roamed over Isaac's torso, tweaking his nipples as Chris murmured things
into Isaac's ear like "beautiful" and "gorgeous boy" and "so good for us."
Peter cocked his head to the side, considering this. Much as it irked him to
share anything of worth with a hunter, he could only agree wholeheartedly with
that sentiment. Isaac was very, very good for them.
Which was why Peter was content to be patient in this. It was why when, after
Isaac had managed to gather his wits and his breath again, his cock hanging
limp against his thigh, Peter looked up at him seriously and said, his voice
quiet and intense, "You are no longer a virgin. From this point forward,
everything you do, every act, every touch, is well and truly your choice. Do
you still want this?"
Isaac blinked at him for a long moment, still apparently sorting out the mush
of his brain, poor boy. Then, like the sun rising through the mist and burning
it away, he began to smile, a wide, beautiful thing.
"I want this, I want you both, more than I've ever wanted anything."
===============================================================================
Isaac rolled over, squinting against the bright sunlight that poured through
the sheer curtains, then he froze, eyes widening in something like shock as he
recalled the events of the previous night.
He had imagined, back when he did so, that a night like the one he'd just lived
through would have left him sore and aching in all sorts of new places. But
because of his body's ability to heal the most serious wounds, he simply felt
refreshed.
A hand snaked around his waist then, pulling him back into a firm body as a
head snuffled down between his shoulder blades, using him as a shield from the
the obnoxious light that filled the room.
"Hale," Chris' raspy voice was muffled against Isaac's back, "I will fucking
shoot you if you don't get blackout curtains in here today."
"Don't be an infant, Argent."
Isaac started, because Peter's voice had come from the doorway, where he was…
standing with an honest-to-God tray which was holding three steaming mugs.
Coffee. "Oh god, yes, coffee," Isaac moaned, and then felt Chris' dick stir
against his ass. Interesting.
Peter placed the tray on the bed before crawling back in on Isaac's other side,
taking a moment to drag his cheek over Isaac's. Then, apparently satisfied in
the arrangements, Peter began handing out the coffee, though Isaac noticed that
Chris got his last.
"And what, dear boys," Peter asked, blowing the steam from his mug, "shall we
do today?"
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!