velveteenwolf | Entries tagged with crossover

It was pretty much just another day. Roman had been over, and they'd had beers and cigarettes, and they'd laughed and talked and all that superficial shit. Peter teased the blonde that was like part of the family by now with that roguish grin on his mouth. It was almost normal. Almost, because whenever Peter and Roman were within ten feet of one another, there was that tension. That way the air pulled taut, like things not being talked about like some fucking elephant in the room, or whatever the cute phrase was for it. Peter watched Roman as he left through the window of the trailer, that cherry red, ridiculous, gorgeous car pulling away.

He could feel her looking at him, but he swallowed, and instead looked down at the can of beer in his hands. Peter was very good at not dealing with shit, especially when it fell under the umbrella of things that required talking, but he also knew her well enough to know that she would not put up with his shit. Lynda might let him dodge questions, but his pseudo-sibling was in no way nearly as tolerant. Lynda was over at Destiny's and so he sighed, letting the beer can drop and looked over at her, as if he could somehow beat her to it.

"Shit. C'mon, it's nothing, alright?"

Liar, liar.

Peter knew who Dyson was, generally.

He knew the name, that he was a werewolf, that he was on the police force. Unfortunately, he was lacking specifics. He didn't know about the Dal, didn't have a phone number or the name of a certain siren. All he really had to go on was his senses, and the knowledge that there was supposed to be a sizable contingent of Fae here.

When he'd left Lynda behind, he'd thought that it would be easy enough. Fae smelled different. It was one of the first things that he'd noticed when his abilities had started to manifest: Nicolae smelled different from everyone else. Not just wolf, but something warm and indescribable and strange but in the best sort of way. When he'd started to shift, Nicolae had taught him what he could, but there simply hadn't been enough time. Six months, give or take a few weeks. He knows how to shift, how to control himself even when the moon is full and bright and the seas rush to greet her. But that's about all he knows. And at seventeen it had simply no longer felt like enough.

It's late, and three days in, when he finally catches a trail. That same sort of scent, different in nuances but still with that same way it had set Nicolae apart from everyone else. So he follows him, as casually as he can manage; just another street rat in dark blue jeans and a thrift store button-down and shielding his cigarette from the evening wind when it gusted. Peter was attractive, but he wasn't spectacular. He didn't have features that drew the eyes and committed his face to memory -- useful given his habit of stealing whatever his fingertips happened to touch.

He traces the figure not too far, but onto a bustling street, with people in vinyl and leather and mesh. He can hear the thrum of the music, and how colored lights filter through the doorway. Traveling with Lynda, he's snuck into clubs more than once or twice. It does surprise him a little when his quarry slips inside, but he doesn't balk at following. He knows he sticks out once he's in here. He has no piercings, his visible tattoos definitely a little too modest -- not even a pair of combat boots. With his attention on trying to filter out the scents of a hundred club-goers to find the one he'd been hunting... Peter isn't exactly surprised when someone stops him.

They're in Stiles' blue Jeep, sitting in the car by the abandoned trailer that had been his home not so very many months ago. It's not where he needs to go, not where they're heading to, but he needed the solace; a moment's rest after coming back here to let the memories surge and settle. He's talked- vaguely- about what had happened. He hasn't told Stiles the hard parts, the important things. Part of it is because it's still too new, too raw, too much pain and hurt. The other part is that Stiles never made him feel like he had to. Eventually he sighs and jerks his head toward the road.

"Just follow this road through town. It's the big fucking mansion -- pretty hard to miss."

He hadn't been able to get Roman out of his head. Even with three thousand miles between them, he'd still been in his dreams. He'd still had those dreams that rang with that prescient glimmer, that truth that he'd whispered to Destiny: we dream the same dreams. And then he'd dreamed of him the night before he'd tried to sneak off alone, and it had been dark, and filled with terror. Corridors and mirrors and skeleton's hands crooked like they meant to strangle. Something was wrong. Something was rising from the dirt and the roots of the Hemlocks. He'd felt it there before: an old power, darker than Christina's rage, but it had seemed less immediate at the time.

Now, suddenly, it was imperative because Roman was here, he was alone, and there was this feeling clutching in his gut like he needed to be here. Even if it was the last place he wanted to be. He'd run. He'd left him behind, without so much as a sorry or I can't. He'd left him, left him to find the trailer stripped bare and the threads of his hair in the sink as his only farewell. It had been shitty, unforgivable, but if he'd tried to say good bye, Roman would never have let him leave.

At least, that's what he told himself.

"You might... not want to come in," he admitted when they pulled up in front of the towering house, Peter scratching fingers against his jaw. "I don't think he's going to be very pleased to see me." His blue eyes a little bleak as he looked over at Stiles.

( Red Tongues and Hands )

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
1	2	3	4	5	6	7
8	9	10	11	12	13	14
15	16	17	18	19	20	21
22	23	24	25	26	27	28
29	30	31

Peter Rumancek

Entries tagged with crossover

PSL: Fire Moon

and I saw you there, by blackened lights

You Are Not On Solid Ground

Run With the Wolves, Baby

Profile

October 2023

Syndicate

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags