Peter Hale (
work_inprogress) wrote2013-07-03 11:15 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Entry tags:
For we all are caught in the middle / Of one long treacherous riddle (For Lydia)
It was quite possible that Lydia was not flirting with the Alpha twin. Possible Aiden was hitting on her and being gently shut down. Possible Stiles was wrong. The rational side of Peter's brain told him that's what it was as he lurked outside the school, watching Lydia in a way that was not at all creepy or stalkery. Really.
He was just checking on her, given her repeated trances and her fear of what was going on. He was looking out for her, making sure she was okay. It was concern, not territorial marking. Really.
He'd already done that.
A faint growl escaped his throat and the Alpha boy's head snapped toward the woods, but Peter was already gone.
Peter followed her the rest of the afternoon, into the evening, watched her with her friends. Watched as Aiden followed her, too, though far more openly. Pity, when the boy came back out, his tires had been slashed, and Peter didn't much care if he thought Scott or Isaac had done it. He had no proof and reason enough to already go after them. What were a couple of tires?
He was at her home before her. After determining her mother wasn't home--a far too usual occurrence for his idea of decent parenting, but highly convenient--he leaped to the tree by her window, then let himself in through it. He didn't sprawl out on her bed to wait, this time. He paced in the darkness instead, moving to the far corner of the room when he heard her car, out of her line of sight when she'd come in. Leaning against the wall there, he waited.
He was just checking on her, given her repeated trances and her fear of what was going on. He was looking out for her, making sure she was okay. It was concern, not territorial marking. Really.
He'd already done that.
A faint growl escaped his throat and the Alpha boy's head snapped toward the woods, but Peter was already gone.
Peter followed her the rest of the afternoon, into the evening, watched her with her friends. Watched as Aiden followed her, too, though far more openly. Pity, when the boy came back out, his tires had been slashed, and Peter didn't much care if he thought Scott or Isaac had done it. He had no proof and reason enough to already go after them. What were a couple of tires?
He was at her home before her. After determining her mother wasn't home--a far too usual occurrence for his idea of decent parenting, but highly convenient--he leaped to the tree by her window, then let himself in through it. He didn't sprawl out on her bed to wait, this time. He paced in the darkness instead, moving to the far corner of the room when he heard her car, out of her line of sight when she'd come in. Leaning against the wall there, he waited.
no subject
no subject
Her touches reminded him how much he needed to lose his clothes, but he was distracted enough by the slide of her leg to shudder and moan into the kiss rather than doing anything about it.
no subject
no subject
Peter was still fairly emotionally drained, upset in some ways by his own upset--implications and actual feeling both. He returned the touches, though he did pause to pull off his shirt, just to feel her against more of his skin.
no subject
no subject
Peter helped her in ridding himself of his clothes, then shifted to tuck himself back in her arms. She fit there well, and he nuzzled lightly at her temple, breathing her in. "It was Stiles," he admitted after a moment. "Stiles told me Aiden was after you."
no subject
no subject
He shrugged a little. "I ran into him yesterday..."
no subject
no subject
Another shrug. "It came up."
no subject
no subject
"What?" He looked at her innocently.
no subject
no subject
"I didn't go seeking him out. And he brought up Aiden," Peter protested.
no subject
no subject
"And I believe you," he said immediately. "But you asked where I got the idea..."
A while ago, true, but he was going back, in the aftermath.
no subject
"Thank you for telling me." She studied his features. "But you still owe me a shirt...and a pair panties."
no subject
He studied her for a minute, then smirked. "Do I get to pick them out?"
no subject
no subject
"I have impeccable taste," he assured her.
no subject
no subject
Peter chuckled and ran fingers down her spine. "Yes, you are."
no subject
no subject
"Does it?" His voice was a low murmur as his fingers ran up and down her skin. "What else feels good?"
no subject
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)