Chapter Text
Peter Hale had many hobbies.
Manipulation. Expensive whiskey. Making Derek question every life choice that had led him to adulthood. And, perhaps his favorite hobby of all... Annoying Chris Argent.
It was an art form. A craft, really. A calling, Peter would say. And Peter took it very seriously.
Which was exactly why Chris hated it...or at least that's what Chris claimed.
Peter disagreed. "Oh, he loves it."
That was usually Peter's response whenever Noah pointed out that Chris looked approximately three seconds away from committing a felony.
Peter always said it with complete confidence. As though he possessed secret knowledge. As though he had discovered some hidden truth about Chris Argent that nobody else understood.
Including Chris Argent. Which was why Noah spent most of his life rubbing his temples.
Tonight was no different. The three of them were sprawled throughout the living room of Noah's house. Chris sat on one end of the couch cleaning a rifle. Peter occupied the opposite end like a particularly smug housecat. Noah sat in the recliner between them reading paperwork.
The room was quiet. Peaceful.
For nearly seven whole minutes. Then Peter ruined it. "So."
Chris didn't even look up. "No."
Peter grinned. "I haven't asked anything yet."
"You were going to."
"I was."
"No."
Peter sighed dramatically. "You wound me."
Chris continued cleaning the rifle. Peter stared at him. Chris ignored him. Peter kept staring.
Noah lowered his paperwork. "Oh no."
Chris didn't react.
Peter smiled wider. "Chris."
"No."
"Christopher."
"No."
"Silver Fox."
"No."
"Love of my life."
"No."
Peter looked offended. "That one wasn't even a question."
Chris finally glanced up. "It was still no."
Noah snorted. Peter pointed accusingly. "See? This is why I tease him."
Chris rolled his eyes. "You tease me because you have the emotional maturity of a twelve-year-old."
Peter gasped. "I am deeply mature."
Chris stared. Noah stared. Peter stared back. Neither man looked convinced.
"Okay," Peter admitted. "Maybe fourteen."
Chris returned to cleaning his rifle. The conversation should have ended there. It did not. Because Peter Hale lacked self-preservation. "So."
Chris closed his eyes. Peter looked delighted. Noah groaned. "Peter."
"What?"
"Don't."
"I'm literally sitting here."
"Exactly."
Peter looked at Chris. Chris refused to acknowledge him. Peter leaned slightly forward. "Speaking of sitting."
Chris sighed. Noah sighed. Peter continued. "I was thinking..."
"Bad start."
"...that maybe we should get a larger couch."
Chris frowned. "Why?"
Peter smiled. "Certain activities require more room."
The silence that followed was immediate. Chris closed his eyes again. Noah pinched the bridge of his nose. Peter looked extremely proud of himself.
"Peter."
"What?"
"Shut up."
"I didn't even say anything."
"You implied it."
Peter looked wounded. "I was talking about movie night."
Noah sighed "No you weren't."
Chris muttered something in French.
Peter looked pleased. "Oh, he's speaking French."
"Peter."
"That's how you know he loves me."
Chris gave him a look. Peter beamed. Noah considered drinking. It wasn't even eight o'clock.
The problem wasn't that Peter occasionally made inappropriate comments.
Chris could handle inappropriate comments. The problem was frequency. Peter approached annoyance with the determination of a man pursuing an Olympic medal.
He never stopped. Ever.
A normal person might make one joke. Peter made twenty. Then thirty. Then fifty. Then wondered why everyone looked tired.
A week later, Chris was in the kitchen making coffee. A simple task. Ordinary. He had almost succeeded. Then Peter appeared.
Like a demon summoned by mild happiness.
Chris heard him before he saw him. Bare feet. Smug breathing. General menace.
Chris didn't look up. "What?"
Peter sounded delighted. "You knew it was me."
"Only one person walks around like he's about to start trouble."
Peter kissed his cheek. Chris accepted the kiss. That was normal. Then Peter ruined it. "I had a dream about you."
Chris took a slow sip of coffee. "No."
Peter leaned against the counter. "It was a very interesting dream."
"No."
"You haven't even heard it."
"No."
"It involved handcuffs."
"No."
Chris walked away. Peter followed. Like a very attractive mosquito.
At first Chris genuinely wasn't bothered. He'd known Peter for years. Long before the relationship. Long before feelings. Long before they all somehow ended up together.
He understood Peter. Or at least as much as anyone could understand Peter Hale.
Peter poked people. That was what he did. He tested boundaries. Sought reactions while pressing buttons. Most of the time it was harmless. Annoying but harmless.
The problem was that Peter seemed to view Chris's tolerance as a challenge. Every time Chris ignored him, Peter escalated. Slightly. Then slightly more. Then slightly more. Like some kind of irritating science experiment.
The next incident occurred during grocery shopping. Which should have been safe. Should have been. Chris was comparing brands of pasta sauce. Noah was pushing the cart. Peter was being Peter.
The store was crowded. Families. Teenagers. Normal people. Peter looked at Chris. Then looked at the jar in Chris's hand. Then smiled that smile. The one that always meant trouble.
Noah immediately spotted it. "Oh no."
Chris looked up. "What?"
Noah pointed. "That."
Chris followed his gaze. Peter's smile widened. Chris sighed. "What?"
Peter casually leaned against the cart. "Nothing."
"Peter."
"I was just admiring your grip."
Chris froze. Noah covered his face.
Peter continued. "Very strong hands."
Several nearby shoppers turned. Chris closed his eyes. Peter looked delighted.
"Peter."
"Yes?"
"Stop talking."
"Why?"
Chris started walking. Peter followed.
Later that evening Noah cornered him. Peter sat on the couch eating chips. Noah stood over him. Looking concerned "You're pushing him."
Peter shrugged. "Nah."
"Peter."
"Noah?"
"You're pushing him."
Peter stole another chip. "Chris loves me."
Noah sat down. "That isn't the point."
"It literally is."
"No."
Peter frowned. Noah pointed toward the kitchen where Chris was making dinner. "You're annoying him."
Peter glanced over. Chris appeared normal. Relaxed and focused. Fine.
Peter looked back. "He's fine."
"He is now."
Peter waved dismissively. "Christopher Argent is a grown man."
"Yes."
"If something bothered him he'd tell me."
Noah stared. Peter blinked back. Noah stared harder. Peter finally sighed. "Okay. Fine. He'd glare at me first."
"Peter."
"And maybe brood."
"Peter."
"And maybe clean a weapon dramatically."
"Peter."
"And maybe mutter in French."
Noah folded his arms. Peter grinned. "He still loves me."
Noah's expression softened. "Of course he does."
Peter looked smug. Then Noah added: "But one day he's going to lose his patience."
Peter barked out a laugh. "Noah."
"I'm serious."
"Chris Argent?"
"Yes."
"The man who spent years raising Allison?"
"Peter."
"The man who tolerates me?"
"Peter."
"The man who willingly dates me?"
Noah groaned. Peter pointed triumphantly. "Exactly."
"That logic doesn't work."
"It absolutely works."
Noah shook his head. "You're going to regret it."
Peter smirked. "No I won't."
From the kitchen Chris's voice carried through the house. "Peter."
Peter perked up. "Yes, darling?"
A pause. Then: "Can one boyfriend stop teaching my other boyfriend bad habits?"
Noah started laughing immediately.
Peter looked proud. "You hear that?"
Noah shook his head. "What?"
"My boyfriend."
Chris groaned from the kitchen. Peter practically glowed.
A month into Noah's warnings, things got worse.
Not because Peter was malicious. Not because he wanted to hurt Chris. Quite the opposite. The happier Peter became, the more obnoxious he got.
It was one of his most baffling traits. When Peter felt secure, he poked. When Peter felt loved, he teased. When Peter felt safe...he became unbearable.
Noah had finally figured it out. Peter didn't annoy people because he disliked them.nPeter annoyed people because he trusted them. Which was adorable and infuriating. Mostly infuriating.
One evening they attended a charity event.
Chris in a suit. Noah in a suit. Peter in a suit specifically designed to cause problems.
Chris was speaking with local officials. Noah was getting drinks. Peter was unsupervised. A terrible situation.
Chris sensed danger before he saw it. Years of hunter instincts. Unfortunately they weren't enough. Peter appeared beside him, holding champagne, looking smug.
Chris immediately knew. "What?"
Peter smiled. "Nothing."
"Peter."
"I was just admiring you."
Chris narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
Peter's smile became dangerous. "You look very handsome."
Chris relaxed slightly. That was manageable.
Then Peter continued. "I was thinking about taking you home."
Chris sighed. "There it is."
Peter looked delighted. "There what is?"
"The reason you came over here."
Peter took a sip of champagne. "You wound me."
Chris looked heavenward. Peter leaned closer. "Especially in that suit."
"Peter."
"And those shoulders."
"Peter."
"And those hands."
"Peter."
"And —"
"Peter."
Noah appeared with drinks. Took one look at Chris, then at Peter, and hen sighed. "What happened?"
Chris pointed. "Him."
Peter looked innocent. Noah laughed. Chris did not.
That night, after the event, Noah found himself standing in the kitchen once again.
Watching Peter and Chris. Watching disaster slowly approach. Chris sat at the island drinking coffee. Peter occupied the stool beside him. Far too close. Chris ignored him.
Peter smiled. Chris ignored him harder. Peter smiled wider.Noah immediately recognized the look. It was the look Peter got before making terrible decisions. "Peter."
"Hm?"
"Leave him alone."
Peter blinked. "Why?"
Noah pointed. "Because Chris is annoyed."
Chris nodded. "Thank you."
Peter looked genuinely confused. "He's not annoyed."
Chris stared. Noah stared. Peter stared back. Then smiled. "Okay maybe a little annoyed."
"A lot annoyed."
"A medium amount."
"Peter."
Peter laughed. Chris did not. Noah sighed. The warning sat heavy in his chest.
Because for the first time... Chris wasn't rolling his eyes. He wasn't smirking. He wasn't firing back. He was actually irritated. And Peter...Peter couldn't see it or maybe didn't want to. Because acknowledging it would mean admitting Noah was right. And Peter hated admitting Noah was right. Almost as much as he loved annoying Chris.
Unfortunately for everyone involved... Especially Peter... The line between teasing and too much was getting thinner every day.
And Peter Hale was sprinting toward it with absolutely no intention of slowing down.