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Stetopher || Teen Wolf || Stetopher || Blood in the Basement || Stetopher || Teen Wolf || Stetopher
Title: Blood in the Basement – Werewolves and Vampires and Sparks, oh My!
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/m, polyamory, s02e12: Master Plan, True Mates, Vampires Chris, Vampire Peter, Spark Stiles, hurt/comfort, fluff
Main Pairing: Chris/Peter/Stiles
Teen Wolf Characters: Mieczysław 'Stiles' Stilinski, Chris Argent, Peter Hale
Summary: When Stiles sees Peter in the warehouse again, he is shocked. How could the former Alpha be alive? Well, the answer is simple: He isn’t. Peter is a vampire now, because his mate found him and turned him before Peter could die from the injuries Derek inflicted.
Blood in the Basement
Werewolves and Vampires and Sparks, oh My!
“Hello, darling. You look worse for wear.”
Stiles heaved a very deep and very tired sigh. He was sitting curled up against the side of his Jeep, trying to regroup after everything that had happened tonight – kidnapping, torture, driving his Jeep through a wall and watching the epic reunion of Jackson and Lydia. All he wanted was like five minutes of shit just not happening. Instead, there stood Peter Hale, right in front of him. Peter, who was supposed to be dead.
“How are you alive?” Stiles complained annoyed.
Peter flashed him a big smile that showed of fangs – but they were different, only the canines were elongated – and his eyes turned red – but they too looked different, not Alpha-red but more… blood red. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not .”
Stiles startled so badly, he bolted up on instinct. And then he groaned in pain as that sent shockwaves of pain through his body. He should not be moving that quickly right now, his ribs were seriously fucked. He swayed and nearly went down again, if not for the strong grip on his upper arm. Blinking dizzily, he looked at the… vampire. The blood-red color had faded out of his eyes and they were their brilliant blue again, eyebrows drawn deep in concern.
“Easy there,” Peter murmured, near gentle.
“How are you—Why are you—What the fuck,” Stiles tried to dislodge his arm from Peter.
Peter only let go once he was sure Stiles was upright and wouldn’t go down again. For that alone, Stiles shot him a glare. There was absolutely no need for hovering or fussing, he was fine.
“Well, you see, my dear nephew didn’t fully finish the job,” Peter smiled, showing off his fangs again. “And my mate found me just in time. Not enough to save my life, but to turn me.”
Stiles breathed slow and deep and rubbed the bridge of his nose in an attempt to soothe himself. It wasn’t working. Peter Hale was a vampire. Peter Hale had a mate who was also a vampire. Stiles needed a break.
“And you two fucked off into the figurative sunset for your honeymoon and decided to come back now to kill everyone involved in your near death?” Stiles guessed, mostly feeling annoyed.
Peter looked so amused, Stiles wanted to punch him. “No, he insisted that I don’t leave the penthouse until I have full control. And, granted, after my little stint as a feral Alpha, he had a point. So, here I am, in perfect control. Ready for my debut.”
“Right,” Stiles took a step back, toward Roscoe. “And why are you here? Everyone else left.”
“Yes,” Peter’s eyes were dark red and intense as they stared at Stiles. “Everyone else left you behind. An oversight on their part that I plan on benefiting from.”
That had Stiles tense. “So murder it is, after all? Guess I should not be surprised. The feral and insane parts only played into the more unhinged and unplanned behavior like turning Scott or attacking Jackson in that video store. Your revenge on everyone involved with the fire had been meticulously planned. So, revenge round two.”
Again with the amused, punchable look on that man’s stupidly handsome face. “Not on you, darling. Your motivation was one that I can respect. I went after those you care about and you set me on fire for it. Fair enough. You have the same violent and merciless need for revenge as I do, I can’t fault you for it. If anything, I admire that about you.”
Okay. Okay, okay, okay. Stiles was not going to let that go to his head. No, sir. Maybe he shouldn’t think the term ‘sir’ in the context of not letting something appeal to his mile-wide Praise Kink.
“What do you want?” Stiles asked, trying to cover the pleased feeling in his belly with annoyance.
“As I said, if everyone else leaves you behind, I am more than happy to benefit from their negligence,” Peter stepped up to Stiles, deliberately crowding Stiles against his Jeep. “You are an asset and I wanted you in my pack when I was an Alpha. As it stands…”
Oh wow okay holy shit. Peter’s eyes didn’t light up the way the wolves did, it really looked like the color was bleeding into them, dark red and dangerous. Stiles felt arousal pool in his belly at it, and at the way Peter’s fangs dropped, at just how close the vampire was to him now. Peter’s lips pulled into a knowing smirk and fuck so vampires had as good a sense of smell as wolves, huh.
It was okay. It meant nothing. Stiles just always got danger boners. He used to get them when Derek shoved him around and threatened him too, before Stiles realized the Sourwolf was a big softie who was never going to follow through with his threats. But Peter, in the school and on the lacrosse field and in the parking garage, had really gotten to Stiles because he knew the danger of Peter Hale was very real. Same with Chris Argent in the hospital, being shoved around and threatened by the seasoned hunter had been a very real and thrilling danger. So it meant nothing.
(The fact that they were really hot, older men had nothing to do with anything. He wasn’t attracted to them and he definitely had no Daddy Issues that may factor into this at all. It was purely the thrill of being threatened. That was Stiles’ brand of being fucked up. Not Daddy Issues. Nope.)
Stiles swallowed hard, acutely aware of the way Peter’s eyes tracked the movement and the way Peter’s fangs got just a little longer as the vampire was staring at Stiles’ neck. The way Stiles’ heart was racing, he was pumping blood through his veins like crazy right now.
“What… kind of benefit do you think this will give me? So, what? So you can gloat that I’ve been wasting my time trying to help and protect Scott? That, when push comes to shove-down-the-basement-stairs, he won’t even ask where the bruises are from?” Stiles sneered at Peter. “Yeah, I don’t need you for that.”
“Oh, darling,” Peter said sweetly and Stiles tried to ignore the way that petname rolled off Peter’s tongue or the way it was making him feel. “I’m not here to hurt you, everyone else seems to have done a splendid job at that already.”
Stiles narrowed his eyes at Peter. “Then what is it that you want.”
“I want to gain your favor,” Peter whispered, leaning in until his nose nearly brushed against Stiles’ cheek. “I wanted you in my pack and I still want you at my side. Now perhaps more than before, because I got a front row seat to how vicious and merciless you can be. I mean, setting the victim of a horrific fire on fire again?”
Stiles winced at that, but Peter mostly looked pleased. Which was just incredibly fucked up.
“So you still want me on your side and how exactly do you plan on achieving that…?”
Cocking an unimpressed eyebrow, Stiles regarded Peter long and slow, waiting. Sure, he was internally freaking out about everything that had happened today, including the reveal that not only were vampires real, Peter was one and there was at least one more vampire in Beacon Hills – Peter’s mate (which, different freak-out. Peter had a mate. What the fuck. Why did the man flirt with him then? Well, he probably hadn’t. Horny danger boner and Daddy Issues might have made Stiles see things that weren’t there). Peter’s eyes were still on Stiles’ throat and it was slowly getting somewhat unsettling, all things vampire considered.
“I’ll take care of you, when everybody else is foolish enough to turn their back,” Peter declared, one arm winding around Stiles’ waist and pulling the boy closer to the vampire. “I’ll have your back when nobody else has it. I’ll prove to you that I can be an asset to you.”
Uhm. Huh. Okay. What was Stiles supposed to do with that…? He swallowed hard, unsure what to say. Because using Stiles, as an asset, was one thing. Forcing him to do whatever needed to be done? Everybody did that! Derek, Peter, hell, Chris had tried in the hospital, Gerard had tried in the basement. But Peter wanting to prove his own usefulness to Stiles first, that sounded temptingly like being equals. Working together, instead of having Stiles work for him.
“And how would you do that…?” Stiles asked carefully.
“I’ll bring you somewhere safe,” Peter murmured, his free hand cupping the side of Stiles’ throat, thumb gently brushing over Stiles’ cheek. “And I’ll tend to your injuries and make sure you get a full night’s rest without having to worry about anyone coming for you. I’ll keep you safe.”
Leave it to Peter to make something technically sweet sound impossibly creepy. I’ll keep you safe, like a treasured possession that I am guarding from potential thieves. He really did manage to make it sound incredibly possessive. Like Stiles was going to be Peter’s if he agreed. Stiles’ pulse started jumping again at that, excitement and adrenaline and fear mixing into that intoxicating cocktail that left Stiles wanting. He licked his lips slowly and then bit them when he noticed the way Peter was tracking the movement of his tongue.
Stiles forced himself to remember that Peter apparently had a mate. That this wasn’t romantic or sexual in nature. That Peter wanted to gain something from Stiles and was just being very creepy about being nice, that was all. It meant nothing.
And Stiles shouldn’t want it to mean anything either. Knew that he couldn’t want it to mean anything. The man was a murderer. Had attacked and hurt Scott and Lydia. Had kidnapped Stiles. Danger boner. Nothing more. That was all.
“Fine.”
Stiles was as surprised by that word as Peter. But maybe Stiles was just tired. He was tired of being left behind. Of nobody checking in on how he was doing, everyone too wrapped up in their own drama and misery to care for him. Of stretching himself thin trying to help others while nobody ever helped him. And maybe, just maybe, he was also tired of being alone and he didn’t want to be alone at home while his dad was at work and while dangerous hunters were still in town. Maybe he wanted to feel safe for a change. Maybe he wanted someone else to take care of him for a change.
And maybe, just maybe, he thought that he would be pretty damn safe with a merciless, ruthless killer vampire having his back. Even if he knew he shouldn’t feel that way.
“Wonderful,” Peter smiled, broad and gloating. “The keys, darling.”
He held out his hand and, after a moment of hesitation, Stiles handed them to Peter. “If you bent them again, I’ll have a priest bless the town’s water supply.”
Peter blinked a few times before smiling amused. “Creative threat, I like it.”
Oh, Stiles was damn serious. Getting new keys had been a stupid, additional expense that he really could have done without. And his dad’s disappointment when Stiles had lied and said he’d lost them? Well, that had been a blow too.
Slowly, Stiles climbed into the passenger seat of his own car and waited for Peter to join him.
/break\
Chris was pacing the penthouse impatiently. Today had been surprisingly packed and yet his biggest worry right now was that Peter was somewhere out there, alone. He had insisted that his control was good enough to be let out of the house, going stir-crazy inside.
They had truly chosen the worst possible day to let Peter loose on town again. Chris had freed three kidnapped teenagers from his own basement after his father had tortured them, Jackson had died and come back, was now supposedly a real wolf, Scott McCall, of all people, had killed Gerard (well, given him a death sentence, anyway). And all Chris could think about was that he didn’t know where the hell Peter was.
Chris had taken it upon himself to drive the teens home, dropping Scott, Jackson and Lydia off at their own places and gently suggesting to Allison that Lydia could use a friend. It was the truth, the girl had just learned that the supernatural was real, had thought her boyfriend was dead and then watched him turn into a werewolf. But it also served Chris to know Allison safe with the Martins, so he could return to the penthouse to be with his mate.
Only that his damn mate wasn’t at the damn penthouse.
He should know better than to worry Chris like that. After all, Chris had already nearly lost Peter when Derek had torn the then-Alpha’s throat out. If Chris hadn’t followed Stiles and Jackson from the hospital to the Hale House, he wouldn’t have been there to save his mate’s life.
Not that they had been mates at that point. No, Chris had been foolish and young, had let his father come between them and dictate Chris’ life. But many things had changed since then. Chris had been turned by a vampire years prior and when Chris saw his wolf, it felt like the world slammed into place. He knew he could not let Peter die, so he’d turned Peter. And then put the stubborn bastard on house arrest, because the feral Alpha’s murder spree had already been bad enough and drawn enough attention, nobody needed a rogue vampire on the loose.
Victoria died at Derek Hale’s claws and Chris retreated to Peter. Where he’d tried to keep his distance to the former wolf before, hearing his father’s voice in the back of his head on how wrong this was, how wrong he was for his feelings, thinking of Victoria and Allison, he now sought Peter’s company and solace. It was a slow process of rekindling but mere days ago, they had finally sealed their matebond. Which was a marvelous thing to Chris, he could feel his wolf in his heart and soul, the thrumming of Peter’s essence.
However, feeling Peter in his soul like that only made him pace even more. His wolf was up to something. Chris could practically taste the scheming, felt the gleeful smugness through the bond. A scheming Peter was, in Chris’ experience, never a good thing. That had gotten them both into so much trouble in high school already.
A key turned in the lock and Chris whirled around to watch the door open, ready to tear into Peter. Yet he froze the moment the door opened and Peter stepped inside, gently ushering Stiles in with him. The boy was in bad shape, after what Chris’ father had done to him. Not just physically, also mentally. He stood hunched over, hands in his pocket, head down.
Chris ground his teeth together as the honey-sweet, delicious scent of Stiles’ blood flooded his senses, making him near dizzy with want. In all the years Chris had been a vampire now, he’d never smelt anything comparable to that boy. When he had Stiles pinned against the wall in the hospital, he’d been close enough for the first time to smell Stiles’ blood through the thin, pale skin on his neck and it had taken Chris all of his well-honed self-control not to drop his fangs and sink them into that tempting neck. Right now, Chris didn’t even need to have his nose that close to the boy’s neck, because the many open cuts and scrapes had Stiles drenched in the scent.
The same way he had felt when he’d stepped down into his basement earlier today, smelling the blood spilled on his basement floor. He hadn’t even acted consciously. He’d needed to free Stiles. His father had already left for the warehouse, otherwise Chris would have ripped the man apart with a snarl for spilling the boy’s blood. At Stiles’ request, Chris had freed the two wolves too and driven all three teenagers home, mortified by how easy this boy could command him.
For a moment, Chris panicked, remembering his own hunger when faced with that sweet-smelling blood, considering how much Stiles affected him. He saw no chance of Peter – who had only been a vampire for a few, short months now and who hadn’t been among humans at all so far – being able to resist the temptation that was Stiles. Yet there were no visible bitemarks on the boy’s neck.
“Peter,” Chris gave a low warning growl. “Where were you and why is Stiles here.”
“Oh shit. Oh fuck. Holy crap,” Stiles’ eyes widened and darted between Peter and Chris. “You’re a—And you two are—Holy mother of all fucks.”
Chris’ own eyes widened at that and he shot his mate a look. “You told him.”
“It was too tempting not to,” Peter shrugged unapologetically. “And I went and collected Stiles, and then I drove him to his house to get a few things, seeing as he will be staying here for the weekend.”
“What,” Chris didn’t even know how to articulate the surprise and rage he felt.
Had Peter completely lost his mind this time around? To tell a human, and one who had proven clever and dangerous, at that? And to just… bring the boy here, into their den, like that? Not to mention, Peter must be aware of the overwhelming scent of Stiles’ blood. Why would he bring the boy here? Why would he expose himself, or Chris, to that kind of temptation?
“I don’t know what to tell you, dude, your mate’s weird,” Stiles sighed and walked past him to plop down on the couch. “I think he wants some kind of alliance or whatever and figures I’m more inclined to help him if he helps me. For the record, I don’t need help.”
“Don’t ever call me dude again, you brat,” Chris warned sternly. “Peter, your office.”
Peter winced but obediently followed Chris to the office, where one dark glare from Chris was all it took to make Peter crack. “He smells like perfection, like he was made for me. Like he should be mine, Christopher. How could I possibly leave him alone and injured in that warehouse?”
Chris froze at those words. “What do you mean. Didn’t he leave with Derek and Derek’s beta?”
After how protective Stiles had been of the two other betas in the basement, it wasn’t even a question to Chris that the boy was part of the pack. After all, Stiles had challenged Chris before on behalf of Derek and the pack. Fiercely loyal, to a terrifying degree. Peter scoffed with a glare.
“Tell Derek that,” Peter looked angry. “I think my nephew was too wrapped up in his own things and he forgot what an Alpha is supposed to do. Be there for his pack. After what McCall and Gerard did to him, Derek hightailed it out. The pup followed him, but Stiles wasn’t fast enough, or maybe wasn’t feeling wanted enough to follow. I used the opportunity to snatch him up myself.”
Peter’s eyes darkened into a deep blood-red and Chris shot him a glare. “He’s not a stray you found on the street and can keep for yourself.”
“But babe, his owners don’t treat him right! We would get him a comfortable cat-bed and spoil him with catnip and treats,” Peter whined in the most sarcastic voice possible. “I’m quite aware that he’s not to be kept, Christopher. However, I do want him on our side. And I think that helping him when everybody else abandoned him will go a long way in gaining his trust.”
“But telling him what we are and bringing him here!” Chris hissed, baring his fangs at Peter. “The boy is dangerous, you know that. Give him an hour and access to the internet and he’ll figure out how to kill us both.”
A lazy and pleased smile spread over Peter’s lips. “Yes. Pretty and clever. He’s perfect, isn’t he?”
Heaving a deep sigh, Chris rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Peter. Stay focused.”
“I am noting the lack of disagreement from you,” Peter pointed out dryly. “But yes, I am more than aware of how clever and dangerous the boy is. I’m fairly sure you and I are the only people in this town who actually realize it though. But that’s exactly why I want him on our side. He’s an asset.”
Chris remained quiet and glared his mate down. The boy was resourceful. It was a pain in the ass when facing him as an enemy, but it would be an asset if he were on their side.
“I want to keep him, Christopher,” Peter whispered lowly, crowding into Chris’ space until their lips were nearly touching. “You can see his appeal too. And smell him. How have you gone this long without biting him? I spent less than an hour with him and it took my everything to keep my fangs out of his neck. And I think the only reason I managed was because he’s been my anchor as a wolf.”
Another can of worms that Chris would prefer not to open. The fact that Stiles had been Peter’s anchor as a wolf. That something about the boy had soothed the feral beast into behaving himself, had helped him regain more and more control. If they hadn’t set Peter on fire, maybe if given some more time, Peter would have gotten better. No use dwelling on the what if, now Peter was a vampire because Chris had saved his mate’s life. That was their new reality.
“We can’t keep him, Peter,” Chris glared at Peter, even as he wrapped his arms around Peter’s waist. “He’s sixteen. He’s human. He doesn’t understand that pull…”
“He’s meant to be mine,” Peter countered with a glare, eyes flashing. “The same way you were meant to be mine. I have wasted years not having you, I will not repeat that mistake with him.”
Chris could feel himself deflate at these words. He’d never understood. When Peter told him they were mates, Chris hadn’t understood what that meant because he’d been human. And then he got turned into a vampire during a hunt gone wrong and when he got to actually lay eyes on Peter again for the first time – while Peter was dying in the backyard of the burned out husk of his childhood home – Chris suddenly understood. Because he felt it. He felt deep in his bones that Peter was his.
“He can’t be ours, Peter,” Chris whispered gently, burying his face in Peter’s neck. “Don’t we deserve some peace? Don’t we deserve a happy ending? After everything we have faced, both our families opposing our relationship, all the lost years, your coma, your near death before I turned you? Wasn’t that enough? Don’t we deserve to just be happy and together now?”
“Darling, I’m not opposing that,” Peter huffed and leaned back so he could look at Chris, his eyes soft. “I’m saying we deserve all of that with each other and with him. And I’m saying that he deserves that too. I know he’s meant to be ours. I knew it when I was a wolf and even though it feels different, it’s more… it’s a call, like his blood calls to me… it’s different, but it’s still the same. It’s this instinctual knowledge that he should be mine. And you feel it too. I know it.”
Chris averted his eyes, his jaw squared. He hadn’t understood what it was when he had dragged the boy into the hospital room. He just knew the boy was calling to him, the monster in Chris’ chest clawing to get out more than it had in years. Closer to losing his control than he had been since he’d been a fledgling vampire. The urge to bite, claim, keep, protect. Rage and anger over just how reckless the boy was, because how dare he risk himself like that. Chris only understood after he saw Peter that evening and felt the same thing. But with Peter, he knew what it meant, because Peter was his, of course was Peter meant to be his. The loudmouthed, smartass sixteen year old sheriff’s son? How could this boy possibly be Chris’ – especially since Chris had Peter.
“How do we make the boy trust us?” Chris asked annoyed.
“Well. Telling me that we’re apparently fucking soulmates would go a long way.”
/break\
Both Peter and Chris turned as one at the sound of Stiles’ voice. The boy was leaning against the doorway of the office, looking much more casual than he was, considering how hard his heart was racing. Which was baffling, because just a second ago, Peter hadn’t sensed the boy at all. Hadn’t heard his steps, his heartbeat, his breathing, hadn’t smelt his alluring, delicious, sweet scent. Yet here he stood, leaning in the doorway like he’d been there for a while already. The most startling thing – and that was saying a lot, all things considered – were his brightly teal-glowing eyes.
“You’re a…” Peter trailed off, completely lost for words.
A broad, mischievous grin spread over Stiles’ lips as he met Peter’s eyes. “Call that payback for the vamp surprise earlier. I’m a Spark, yeah. I knew you were hiding something and behaving way too weird, so I figured I’d eavesdrop. It’s really fucking easy to eavesdrop when you can manipulate the elements, suppress sound-waves in the air, fracture the light around yourself.”
Oh, his boy wasn’t just a Spark he also knew that he was a Spark and had apparently already mastered quite a good junk of his powers. As the only born magic users in existence who had inherent magic, Sparks could manipulate the elements themselves, while other magic users really were just that – people using magic, borrowing it from nature.
“It’s different,” Chris noted, seeming unfazed by the magic reveal. “Soulmates are a mutual concept. True Mates are inherent to the supernatural. Humans can’t feel it. I never felt it, even when Peter told me we were True Mates, before I was turned. Now I know the difference.”
Stiles pushed off the doorway and raised his eyebrows, looking at the hunter. “Hello? Do these freakishly glowing eyes look human to you, dude? I’m magic, I am literally magic.”
“Don’t call me dude, brat,” Chris demanded again, baring his fangs.
The mischievous grin returned and Stiles wrinkled his nose cutely. “Spank me about it, dude.”
“That is the wrong ‘d’-word, sweetheart,” Peter offered amused. “He prefers a different one.”
Chris growled, glaring at them both. “Can we stay on track? I thought Peter was a lot to handle, but now I have to deal with two of you. Horny, defiant brats.”
Peter smirked at Chris before he winked at Stiles. “I can promise you his spankings are worth it.”
Stiles blushed and sputtered before he laughed, just to wince and grab his ribs. “Right. Maybe not the time for any of that… So… Soulmates, yeah? I mean, I didn’t… I’m not… It’s not like looking at you changed my world forever or whatever, but I do feel an unsettling strong pull toward you guys. I figured it was just my danger boner, but it… just keeps getting stronger.”
Stiles stepped up to them and his steps were by far not as sure as he wanted to seem. He was nervous, unsure. Both Peter and Chris moved as one without having to check in with the other, stepping up to their mate with the urge to comfort and reassure. Once they stood on either side of Stiles, caging the Spark in between them, the two vampires exchanged a look. It was simple. There was no going back now. Stiles knew. Stiles felt it, to a degree. Peter laid one arm around Stiles’ waist, drawing him closer and burying his face in the boy’s pale, tempting neck, inhaling deeply.
“You smell like the most delicious treat I could imagine,” Peter whispered lowly.
He pressed his lips against Stiles’ skin, opening his mouth and gently scraping his fangs over soft, breakable skin. Stiles’ breath hitched and his scent sweetened with arousal. Peter dared to let his tongue dart out, tasting the boy’s skin. Fingers curled into his shirt, but not to push him away, no, Stiles clung onto him. Chris gave a warning growl, watching Peter closely.
“Oh, hush, dear. I’m not going to bite him,” Peter huffed offended. “He needs all of his blood to heal right now, the last thing he needs is for his body to also have to replenish his blood supply. Besides, when I bite him, I’ll make him beg for it.”
Stiles made an indignant noise at that and turned toward Chris, who had his own face buried in the other side of Stiles’ neck, just as weak for their boy and his scent as Peter.
“Chris, is he serious?” Stiles asked, the fingers of his other hand on Chris’ chest.
“Mh,” Chris nosed along the span of Stiles’ neck. “Very much so. And I’d like to see him do so. Listen to you begging for our fangs, sweet thing.”
Stiles gave a full-body shudder. “Oh, that’s how it’s going to be, yeah?”
“Only if that’s how you want it to be too, baby,” Chris’ voice softened unfathomably. “I do want you, I want many things from you and with you. But only if you want them too.”
Stiles bit his lips as he stepped away from them, looking from one to the other, and then he pulled Chris in to kiss him harshly, before he also kissed Peter. Peter smirked into the kiss. Theirs, indeed.
~*~ The End ~*~