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Peter was an animal.
It was something Chris could tell before they even knew each other, and such a discernable trait had to run deeper than the boy's wolfish nature. It was obvious from the way Peter walked down the hallway with eyes scoping the masses like a predator choosing its prey, and it manifested on the field, too, in his swift and controlled movements as he dribbled the ball with a kind of awareness and innate precision that had his enemies baffled and foolish with the chase. Peter was a lion set loose, and he ruled his reign as if the Sun would never set in his kingdom.
"You want me," Peter's smirk told him from across the quad, and Chris knew right away that he had been lured into a trap.
Peter was pure instinct and raw emotions when he kissed him - everything Chris was meant to fight against. He was explosive when he laughed, and terrifyingly quiet when enraged. His words were cruel and his touches sweet and his body warm against Chris's fingers, and the hunter was sure Peter would set the world on fire for him. Because Peter loved as fiercely as the urge coming from deep within to run bare feet on a full moon, and while Chris never understood - could hardly understand anything that Peter was - he never ceased to be amazed by the beauty of something so natural, something so wild.
So maybe Peter was truly a beast. Making Chris just like him: passionate when it was hatred boiling in his blood, and devoted when it was the tides of love undertaking him. It was only primal, then, to chase Peter's lips with every breath of his, to dig his teeth into the salty skin and rake down the plains of the unfamiliar body, to hear Peter's moans like a call for more, and to have the boy's nails sink into his back with a raw ache to mark. It was almost magical how easily the beast's body succumbed to Chris's powerful thrusts, and for the first time ever, Chris wondered if he had been wrong.
Because yes, Peter was selfish. But even the revelation that werewolves could be needy had not been as big of a shock as the self-realization that came to Chris late at night, and from which the seeds of greed grew. So he claimed Peter, over and over again, and could never seem to satiate this burning craving to own more of Peter and to be owned just as fully in return. Peter already filled so much in his life - he was redesigning the very pillars it stood on - and yet Chris still wished for him to be all of it. To make Peter his whole life, to let him rule forever like a king.
Chris was going crazy, frankly. Peter might have been rash but at least he recognized the lines that separated madness from pleasure and knew when to pull away. Chris wondered if he was putting both of them in danger when he instead pulled Peter back into bed - a nest where they loved each other, and only there - and cuddled him a bit longer in the filthy motel room.
"I want you," Chris's lips told Peter when they kissed goodbye, and something in Peter's eyes softened as if to say "I'm already yours".
Chris was taught that werewolves were animals - pure instinct and feral emotions. And maybe Peter was indeed a beast for making Chris care about him and making him play a twisted game where Chirs failed the very first step by never running from the wolf in the first place. But worst of all, he made Chris believe that this could last. He made Chris a liar - someone who betrayed his family, then his lover, and then his own heart. But as the years went by, Chris began to wonder if Peter was truly at fault here. If Peter had been mistaken to start this, or if it was him who had set the trap for their love a long time ago.
And for that, Chris was the monster.