Round One - Chris Argent

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A/N: smut

***

You leaned against the wall of Derek's loft and pinched the bridge of your nose as you listened to the pack argue. It was the same argument you heard over and over again. Chris was trying to get the pack to behave more like teenagers and the teenagers were telling the hunter they could handle the danger. Derek should have backed Chris up, but usually he was encouraging the pack to run headfirst into trouble. And Peter...well, he just didn't give a shit.

As for you, you were tired of the constant bickering. Chris couldn't parent everyone. They didn't want him to, for one thing. "Christ," you shouted over the din. "If they want to patrol the woods where the creepy shit is, let them patrol the woods. They're werewolves, not cheerleaders."

There was a beat of silence.

"I was a cheerleader," Lydia said and you glanced up in amusement. She gave you a cheeky grin that immediately had you smiling back.

You glanced at the others to find most of them smiling as well. They weren't used to you losing your temper but for some reason they always found it amusing when you did. Then your gaze fell on Chris. Oh, he was not happy with you at all. Those blue eyes burned into you and he set his jaw.

He jerked his gaze from you to Scott. "If we knew what we were facing, it would be different, but we have no idea what the threat level is."

"And how do you propose we discover what we're up against if no one goes out to find it?" you asked.

Chris straightened. "Excuse us for a moment." He grasped your hand and pulled you to the door and out into the hallway. He backed you into the wall and placed a hand on either side to box you in. Your breath caught at his proximity. "What do you think you're doing?" His low, rough voice ran through you making you shudder. Maybe he didn't notice.

"Stating my opinion," you said, knowing he'd hate the answer, but seeing no reason to say anything different. It wasn't your fault that he had it in his head that you should agree with everything he did.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned into you. Your breath hitched. "Don't make me take you home and punish you."

You arched a brow. "You aren't my father. And I don't understand why you keep arguing with them. We both know that they'll just go behind your back."

"Yes. And then they'll call us because they got in over their heads and they need help."

You laid your hand on his chest. "And wouldn't it be simpler if we let them patrol and were there as backup?"

One of his hands moved to settle on your waist. His thumb found the skin under the hem of your shirt and traced back and forth. "No. It would be simpler if they stayed out of it. They don't have to try to fix everything."

You gave him a swift kiss. "Neither do you."

His gaze narrowed again just before his lips found yours once more. His tongue traced your lip asking for entrance and you gave it to him with a gasp. You smiled against his mouth. He was frustrated that you were right, but rather than admit it, he thought to distract you. Distract both of you, really.

His hand settled on the button of your jeans and you grasped his wrist to stop him when the door slid open beside you.

"You do know that most of us can hear you. And smell you," Derek said, amusement coloring his words.

Chris rested his forehead against yours. "Thanks for the reminder."

"No problem. So, patrol?"

A muscle twitched in Chris's jaw as he clenched his teeth.

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