Chapter Text
John sighed. "Please tell me you're joking."
Chris Argent's face was grim. "I'm afraid not, Sheriff. Werewolves go into heat. Including the male ones. That is why you've received more than a few... noise complaints."
Before Argent could elaborate, the door to John's office swung open and Peter Hale draped himself against the doorjamb, stretching the skin-tight jeans and v-neck over his body even more obscenely than usual. "Christopher... why are you taking so long?"
John sighed at the look of utter panic that accompanied Argent's furious blush.
This was going to be a long week.