Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2421449.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Chris_Argent/Isaac_Lahey
  Character:
      Chris_Argent, Isaac_Lahey
  Additional Tags:
      Shyness, Virgen, Sex_with_Clothes_On, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort
  Collections:
      24_-_Round_Twenty-Four_of_Rounds_of_Kink
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-10-08 Words: 2511
****** Comfort is not a Hardship ******
by anassa_anemou
Summary
     It's a long way down to France, and Chris feels strangely compelled
     to make things easy to Isaac.
Notes
     Hopefully this isn't that bad and I hit some of the prompter's likes.
     The underage warning is for Isaac, since I'm not sure what is his age
     at the show, but I think is under 18.
     Prompt: Teen Wolf, Chris Argent/Isaac Lahey,It's a long way down to
     France. Shyness, virgins or inexperienced partners, sex with clothes
     still on or partly on.
     Fanfic or Fanart: Fic
See the end of the work for more notes
Chris doesn’t know what he is doing really, not after he manages to get his
sister and put her down. The grief is trying to choke him, make him forget what
he promised Allison: “Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-
mêmes.” He wishes to get back at hunting, killing anything that passes in front
of him, and he thinks he is not much better than Kate.
He gets a call, just before he leaves the house to go hunt some deer, it’s not
the same rush as hunting someone that has the intelligence and the instincts,
but is still a kill. Isaac voice trails in, hesitant and quiet, almost afraid
to ask if he is coming back or not, if he should still stay in the apartment or
go looking for some place else.
“I’ll get on a plane tonight.” Chris doesn’t say he was ready to work as a hit-
man for the Calavera’s or that he still feels Kate’s blood on his face and his
hands and it doesn’t let him sleep.
It’s not a surprise when there isn’t a plane available to France when he
arrives at the airport and the woman selling the tickets wants to make him buy
one with stops on London and Prague, which he has no idea why exists, because
why would someone would want such a weird route. He ends up buying a ticket for
the morning, only reminding himself of sending a text to Isaac when he is
already in the plane, which is why he isn’t surprised when he finds the kid
sleeping at a chair, all sprawled and definitely snoring.
He kicks Isaac, smiling tightly when the werewolf’s eyes flash gold when he
wakes startled. Isaac doesn’t ask why he doesn’t have any baggage or why he is
limping slightly and Chris is thankful. They walk to the train station, not
speaking and he tries to think of something to ask the kid, but his brain fails
him, maybe he is just too tired, or maybe he just doesn't want to get in
deeper. When he first brought Isaac here, to the family cottage, on of the many
houses and hideaway his family keeps in France, they both been quiet, more so
than now, not comfortable or easy; Chris had also been driven by what he knew
Allison felt for the kid and the worry he would be dragged further into Derek’s
bad luck.
“I finally painted the hallway, I hope you like it.” Isaac opens the door and
Chris is meet with a bright entrance, all the old wood painted white and the
ornate wallpaper giving place to a light yellow, it looks cozy.
“It looks good, bright.” He still doesn’t feel like talking, so he walks in,
dropping his own key and cellphone in the small table Isaac placed at the
entrance, his fingers touching the flowers in the vase Victoria won from his
mother when they got engaged.
“I moved some furniture around and put the extra’s in the attic. Everything
down here and downstairs, except your room got cleaned and painted, I hope…
well, I won’t change back and you gave me permission, so, all changed.” Isaac
rubs at his neck, deciding not looking at Chris.
“It’s fine, Isaac. I didn’t expect to have you live here with all the old
things my family collected over the years. And it’s not like someone will come
yell at any of us, not after... ” Chris doesn’t finish, he just mumbles
something about a shower and almost runs from the room. He has no idea what he
is doing here.
***

In and out, he breaths as if he could never see any of them dying, as if he
didn’t feel the hot blood spilling at his face and streaming down his neck. He
can hear Kate labored breathing, the way she leans against him, holding her
mouth to his ear and speaks of time they both been bathed in werewolf blood,
not her own.
“Fuck...” Chris let’s his head smash against the tiles, trying to erase her
voice, but he can’t. Maybe if he takes some pills, and sleep, maybe he will be
lucky enough not to hear her voice, not to feel her voice deep in his heart,
telling him he let his daughter get killed, that he put werewolves above his
family.
“Chris, are you ok?” Isaac’s voice trails in from the door and he turns the
shower off, knowing it will be fruitless to pretend he didn’t hear the kid.
“I’m fine.” His voice is low and like a growl, words caught in his throat.
Isaac doesn’t say anything again and Chris dries himself knowing that he will
either have to talk to the kid when he is out of the door or he will have to
hide in the bathroom until Isaac get’s tired.
When he is dressed and moves to open the door he is surprised to see Isaac
gone. Taking his time he goes to his room, knowing any sleep he gets will be
filled with bad dreams: not sleeping is not an option, because he can already
feel his attention being compromised; he confirms it when only after he drops
the dirty clothes on the floor is that he notices his bed isn’t empty.
“I’m not leaving.” Isaac’s has his chin up, looking petulant and determined and
Chris sighs, this really isn’t what he needs right now. “And no pills.”
Chris nods tightly and goes to join Isaac at the bed. He doesn’t look at the
kid, doesn’t even turn to him, lying with his back to him, but somehow, not
even five minutes later, his eyes are dropping and Isaac is wrapped like an
octopus around him; he thinks this shouldn’t be this easy. And then he
remembers the first times weren’t.
***
Isaac looked scared at him, his eyes down, and his whole body tense. Chris
doesn’t know what he was thinking when he told Isaac they could move to France,
could be away from Beacon Hills and that he could be his guardian until the kid
was old enough. The Sheriff knowing the toll on both of them had been
understanding enough to rush the papers, and Derek had released his hold when
it became clear Isaac didn’t feel safe at the loft anymore.
“Is this place...” Isaac looks up at the little cottage, before turning to him.
“Victoria and I lived here for a while, when it was just the two of us. I used
to want a space to escape.” Chris opens the door, and let’s Isaac in first, as
to make him see the place is empty and dusty, harmless.
They don’t speak as Chris starts opening the windows and pulling the white
sheets covering the furniture. Isaac helps after they find a broom, sweeping
the dust and sneezing at every three seconds. They move fast, both trying to
forget what just happened a few days before, it’s silent, but rewarding, by
lunch time they have most of the living room and kitchen clean and with a nod,
Chris moves to get some food, while Issac goes to explore the second floor.
Strangely, after they eat a quick pasta Isaac prepares, Chris is followed to
his room, that is clean; he thinks Isaac is cleaner than Allison. Isaac just
leans against the door as Chris pulls his boots off, he doesn’t say anything or
move from his position even when Chris nods for him to gets in.
“Just get in, Isaac, the bed is big enough for both of us to take a break
before we continue to clean.” Somehow Chris needs to be sure Isaac will stay,
that nothing will happen with him while he rests.
Isaac sits against the headboard, not closing his eyes and Chris doesn’t say
anything else, just closes his eyes. This silence is not comfortable like the
one they had while cleaning, but they still don’t break it, because there isn’t
no words to fill it.
***
The days that follow are much the same, with Chris keeping an eye at Isaac and
the boy cleaning the house to hide. They still sleep in the same bed, because
the other room is never cleaned, and Chris won’t admit, but he is afraid of
what can reach them here and worries that this is not the place for Isaac. It
comes,then, as a surprise when Isaac leans against him , out of bed, letting
his head rest against Chris shoulder.
The next day, Isaac let’s his hand brush against Chris’ every time they reach
to get something out of the breakfast table. And he blushes, cheeks pink and
neck flushed. Is a look that makes him look younger, less hard by what
Allison’s death gave him. He stills leans stiffly against the headboard,
refusing to lay down in bed, but Chris won’t make a big deal of it.
It takes almost two weeks before Chris wakes up to Isaac’s breath tickling at
the back of his neck, and is so fucking peaceful he has no idea how to feel.
The spell breaks when Isaac moves against him and Chris tenses as he feels the
boy’s hard member rub against his ass, which makes Isaac wake up; his sleep is
always so light, Chris knows it’s not his werewolf’s senses.
That night Isaac leaves and doesn’t come back until late, when Chris is
starting to think he got lost or that maybe something happened, France is full
of old hunter families, the boy comes back. He thinks Isaac would be drunk if
he was still only human, because there is a restless energy on him.
“Where were you?” Chris asks tightly.
“You are not my dad.” Isaac towers over him and Chris stops him with a hand on
his hip. “I...”
Chris leans in and Isaac ducks his head, cowering as the older man let’s their
chest touch. He lifts Isaac chin, his hand firm and unrelenting; Isaac doesn’t
look at him at the eye, so Chris makes him, crowding him against the wall and
pulling him for a kiss. It’s fumbling, like Isaac isn’t sure what he is doing
and Chris mind recalls Allison and Lydia’s talk about Isaac inexperience.
“Just, let me.” Chris holds one hand to Isaac’s hip, stopping him from moving
while he plunges forward.
The kiss is more desperate and less awkward, and Chris starts thrusting
forward, making their cocks rub against each other. Isaac holds onto his shirt,
trying to pull and open, but only manages to tumble into Chris and make him
lose his equilibrium. They both stumble until Chris pull Isaac to the sofa,
letting the fall, half sited, half out of the couch.
He manages to pop the button on Isaac’s pants and palm him through the jeans
when he hears a moan and suddenly his hand is leaning against something damp.
Three seconds later he is shoved to the floor and Isaac flees to one of the
guest rooms.
“Fuck.” Chris shakes his head and squeezes his cock, trying to relieve some
pressure. He has no idea what he will do, but it felt good and he isn’t sure if
he wants to think if is right or not.
The days that follow are tense, with Isaac leaving in the morning and coming
back soon after it get’s dark; Chris spends his days making contacts with the
local packs, being sure Isaac will want to move out of the house soon enough.
Oddly is when Scott calls, talking about Derek missing is that Isaac sneaks in
at the middle of the night: they wake up with Isaac head resting against
Chris’s chest and while the tension doesn’t disappear, things get better.Things
change when Isaac asks him if he is going back when Scott calls again and Chris
has his hand deep in a suitcase, rolling the clothes to fit better.
“Are you coming back?” Isaac words are careful, barely whispered.
“As soon as things are done.” Chris doesn’t say when he kills the last female
relative he has.
“I could go too, maybe stay...” Chris shakes his read and Isaac closes his eyes
for a minute, not looking at him.
“It will be fine, it’s a family job. When I come back we can... ” This time is
Isaac that shuts him, making him fall to the bed, beside his bag.
Isaac tries to climb on top of Chris, but since he has half of his body outside
of the bed, he almost fall and Chris wants to laugh. He doesn't, knows that
Isaac will shy away again if he do. They kiss, even as Chris starts to try to
get them fully on the bed. This time his hands are careful not to touch Isaac’s
cock, and the boy blushes. When he gets his cock out, Isaac moves to open his
fly, fingers daft.
They manage to get both of their pants out of the way, Isaac’s is the middle of
his thigh and Chris’s is only open, but since he was commando, it didn’t make a
difference. He let’s their cock’s slap against each other, his fingers circling
both of them with feather touches. When he looks up, Isaac is all red, his eyes
flashing gold and his teeth biting at his lower lip.
Is a fucking arousing image and Chris starts to jack them both off. Isaac
doesn’t moan, and Chris wishes he did, but his breath is all over the place and
his eyes are rolling in his head. It doesn’t take long, not when Chris
continues to be rough, squeezing and pulling, spitting more than once on his
hand to get them wet. Isaac comes first, and Chris only follows when Isaac
still trying to recuperate his breath, gives a experimental lick, tongue
against the head.
The almost cat like licks are enough to make Chris’s balls tighten and before
he can stop himself he is coming all over Isaac’s face. He thinks Isaac will
bolt, so he grabs his neck and pulls him up, rolling them so he is on top. He
kisses Isaac, tasting his own come and adoring the way Isaac seems to buck
against him, neither of them are hard, but it’s almost enough to make him wish
he could be again.
The boy hides his face against Chris neck and he takes advantage to bite the
pale neck, marking him up. When they rest there and Chris thinks it will be
harder to leave this bed to go to Beacon than it was to leave the city, he
smiles against Isaac, knowing he needs to be back, but he will deal with Kate,
once and for all.
***
When he wakes up is to Isaac’s hand inside his pants and he thinks maybe the
time away made them both anxious and maybe Isaac got bold, but he will still
make sure, later, they talk about. He body goes lax, refusing to think about
anything else but the hot hand against his cock.
End Notes
     Just a last note, this fic brushes off Allison's death, I focused on
     the grief very lightly.
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