withimpunity (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
withimpunity) wrote2007-12-20 03:57 am
withimpunity) wrote2007-12-20 03:57 am
Entry tags:
Fic: Up Against a Wall - Adult
Title: Up Against a Wall
Pairing: Nathan/Peter
Rating: Adult
Prompt: Day 12 @![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
theyreitalian
A/n: Title from a Peter Bjorn & John song
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC, and other folks who aren’t me. This is for fun only, never profit.
Peter slammed the glass bottle onto the tile countertop angrily, ignoring the beer that sloshed out onto his fingers and the crack climbing up the right side as he took a deep breath and tried very hard not to break Nathan’s nose.
“Just calm down Pete,” Nathan warned. “All I’m saying is, you should at least try.”
“Try?” Peter roared and the veins that ran up his forearms strained beneath the surface as he clenched both fists tightly by his side, imprinting his palms with shallow crescents as he glared at Nathan in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me, Nathan? Try? I’ve been trying for twenty god damn years. I’m done.”
“Pete,” Nathan sighed exasperatedly and combed his fingers through his unwashed hair. “Don’t say that. He’s your father, whether you like it or not.”
“No,” Peter bit out harshly. “He’s your father.”
“Don’t,” Nathan said, softening his voice a little as he stepped toward Peter and put his hand on his shoulder. This particular sign of affection between them had been, for as long as they both could remember, their version of the olive branch; a silent offering for a truce between them. When Peter twitched violently away from Nathan’s hand, acting as if his fingers had burned right through his skin, Nathan hated the way his stomach twisted into knots. He could see straight through Peter’s pissed off and angry at the world façade. He knew this was just the way Peter had to deal when it came to their father. Pete had to push it to the back of his head and yell and scream about or else it would overtake him, and cripple him with the cold, hard truth that in his father’s eyes, he truly was a disappointment.
“Peter,” Nathan said, grabbing him firmly by both shoulders, pushing Peter against the refrigerator as he struggled to get away. “Listen to me.”
“Let me go,” Peter growled through a clenched jaw as he stomped on Nathan’s foot.
“Listen,” Nathan continued, not missing a beat. Two of his toes might’ve been broken, but he’d deal with that later. “Dad loves you. He doesn’t know how to show it, but I know he does. But more importantly, Peter, I love you.”
Peter, who had been staring at the floor, out the window, refusing to look anywhere but at Nathan, slowly raised his eyes to meet his older brother’s. The first thing Nathan noticed was Peter’s matted, wet eyelashes and his chest tightened painfully. He reached out to wipe away the single tear that had leaked out of the corner of Peter’s eye and Peter caught his hand, pressing his palm into Nathan’s.
“I’m sorry,” Peter murmured, closing his eyes as he leaned into Nathan and touched his wet, salty lips to his brother’s.
“Pete, whoa-” Nathan said, coloring filling his cheeks as he quickly backed away from Peter, absentmindedly raising his fingers to his lips to touch where Peter’s had just been. “What - what was that?”
“I love you Nathan,” Peter murmured, closing the distance between them, putting his hands on Nathan’s shoulders. “Please.” He leaned in again, in another attempt to kiss Nathan, but Nathan put his hand firmly on Peter’s chest, barely stopping him before their lips made contact again.
“Pete…you can’t do this,” He explained, though Peter didn’t miss the uncharacteristic shake in his voice or the way his breathing had quickened, or the beads of sweat that had formed along his hairline. “You’re, you’re upset. It’s okay, just-”
“Shut up,” Peter said, pushing his chest against Nathan’s hand, curling his fingers around Nathan’s neck to force their lips together, crushing Nathan’s mouth with his, quickly sweeping his tongue in between Nathan’s partially parted lips before he could pull away again.
“Peter stop!” Nathan barked out, pulling Peter’s hands off of him, holding them tightly between his own hands so Peter couldn’t pull him back. “You’re my brother, for Christ’s sake! We can’t do this!”
“Stop - fighting it- Nathan!” Peter rebelled, twisting his body around to break free of Nathan’s grasp. When he was free he fisted his hands into Nathan’s suit and shoved him against the wall, knocking the calendar he’d bought from the hospital off, holding Nathan’s arms firmly by his side as he leaned in and pressed their lips together once more. He knew Nathan wanted it, could tell by the way his body always flushed whenever he walked around in his underwear, or the way Nathan’s breathing got shallow when they sat close and talked for hours, but mostly from the way Nathan was always finding an excuse to touch him lately. He knew Nathan wanted it, but he also knew Nathan would never allow himself to be a part of something so taboo, so socially unacceptable; he was better than that. Peter wasn’t though, at least according to their father, so it was up to him to get Nathan to loosen up and accept that this was who they were.
“Stop,” Nathan’s lips moved against his and Peter ignored his protestations and took the opportunity to push his tongue inside. He noticed how the cold exterior began to melt away from Nathan’s body and the way his mouth relaxed as he curled his tongue around Nathan’s and whimpered softly into his mouth; he‘d wanted this for so long.
Nathan stopped fighting against him, but he wasn’t returning his kisses yet either. Peter released his lips, still hovering an inch away from his face, so close their noses rubbed together.
“Please stop, Pete,” Nathan whispered, his voice infused with desperation and sadness. “I can’t do this.”
“But you want to,” Peter murmured, Nathan’s stubble scratching against his lips. “I know you do, stop lying to yourself.”
“I can’t,” Nathan mumbled as Peter kissed his lips again. “We can’t.” Peter grinned against his mouth as he felt Nathan’s arm slip around his waist and pull him tight. “It’s not right.”
“I know,” Peter smirked, nipping lightly at Nathan’s bottom lip, looking up at him with bright, hopeful eyes. “But aren’t you tired of always doing the right thing?”
“Pete,” Nathan said warningly, though his tone lacked the conviction Peter was so used to hearing, and it only encouraged him further. “Pete, stop.” Nathan verbally refused him, but at the same time pushed his hand underneath Peter’s shirt and splayed his fingers out over Peter’s skin.
“I love you, Nathan,” Peter whispered against his ear and Nathan stiffened when he felt Peter’s tongue flick underneath his ear. “So much.”
“I love you too, Pete,” He mumbled, repeating the same pattern over and over on Peter’s back with his thumb as Peter sucked the loose skin around his collarbone between his teeth. “God, stop. Please.” He pleaded helplessly as Peter sucked a vivid bruise onto his neck, eyes falling shut as he felt Peter’s teeth sink into his skin. He hated having to beg Peter to stop; Nathan Petrelli didn’t beg anyone for anything, but this was different than anything he’d ever been a part of. He wasn’t strong enough for this.
“It’s okay, Nathan,” Peter murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth as he tugged Nathan’s shirt out of his trousers, ignoring Nathan’s weak protests of “No,” and “Peter, please don’t,” as he slid his hand beneath the hem of Nathan’s shirt. “Please? I need this.” He whispered next to Nathan’s ear, slowly dragging his tongue along the curve of Nathan’s jaw before pressing his body flush against Nathan’s and kissing him hard, pouring the feelings he’d been forced to keep to himself for so long into Nathan.
The little bit of will power Nathan had left was finally stolen away by Peter’s hard body being pressed against him, and this time when Peter traced his lips with his tongue, Nathan parted them voluntarily and kissed him back. It was slow at first, curious, but Peter guided him willingly, wrapping his hand around the back of Nathan’s neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss until all that Nathan could see, smell, think, hear was Peter’s lips and Peter’s tongue, and Peter’s mouth. Peter kissed him and he kissed Peter back for so long that his lips felt bruised and sore and the only thing that brought him out of his hazy state of euphoria was the shocking discovery that he had an erection. For his brother.
“Oh God, Peter, Peter we have to stop,” He mumbled brokenly, still panting from Peter stealing his breath away with his deep, impassioned kisses, trying desperately to push Peter away from him so that he wouldn’t feel his hardness pressing against him.
“No, we don’t,” Peter argued, rolling his hips against Nathan’s in a way that had Nathan’s eyes rolling into the back of his head and a deep, guttural moan slipping uncontrollably from his lips. “Just be quiet,” he murmured, dragging his tongue along the shell of Nathan’s ear as he began to loosen Nathan’s belt. “And let me do this.”
Nathan was rendered speechless as Peter nipped at his ear and slid his hand beneath the waistband of his boxers. In his head he was screaming for Peter to stop, sobbing like a child, begging for the strength he didn’t have to push Peter off of him, to make him stop this madness. He knew how much his brother weighed and how often he worked out - which was usually never, so it wasn’t even a question of if he could take him. Physically, it wouldn’t take Nathan sixty seconds to get Peter off of him and keep him off. Mentally though, he was weaker than Peter ever had been. Peter was right; he did want this, and he hated himself so much for that. And he hated God for letting something so wrong feel this good.
Peter’s long fingers curled around his erection and Nathan lost all ability to think clearly, or speak for that matter. The sounds that escaped his lips were better classified as desperate, needy moans and gasps of pleasure as Peter kissed his neck, jaw, ear and stroked his cock slowly, drawing out every sweet moan and whimper from Nathan’s mouth. Nathan’s head fell forward, pressing their foreheads together, and Peter smiled as he watched Nathan’s face. He was so beautiful like this, finally letting go of everything he was supposed to be and just being what Peter wanted him to be. His brother.
“Peter,” He whimpered, the first coherent sound out of his mouth since Peter had put his hands on him. “I - I love you.” He panted and Peter could feel Nathan thrusting into his hand and knew he must be close. “So much, so fucking much.”
“I love you too, Nathan,” Peter said, quickening his strokes on Nathan’s cock, looking straight into his eyes as Nathan pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and shuddered, spilling warm and sticky into Peter’s hand. Peter’s mouth was on his before he could catch his breath, sucking Nathan’s cool, dry tongue into his mouth, forcing himself on Nathan so hard and deep that Nathan had to bite Peter’s lip to get him to let him breath.
Nathan slumped against him as he tried to catch his breath and Peter combed his fingers through Nathan’s sweat-dampened hair as he felt Nathan’s chest rising and falling against his own, the tick-tocking of the clock on the wall above the refrigerator echoing loudly all around them.
Eventually, Nathan straightened up, pushing Peter far enough away so that he could tuck his shirt into his pants and zip them up. Peter kept looking for his eyes, waiting for the exact moment Nathan would look up so he could catch them and flash him a half-crooked smile to see if they were all right. Instead, Nathan never looked at him. After fastening his belt he ducked out of the kitchen, grabbing his jacket off the kitchen table and turned back to look at Peter before he reached the door.
“Ma wants to see you at dinner tonight, Peter,” He said and even though Nathan was looking right at him, Peter didn’t think he saw him at all. “Don’t disappoint me.”
Nathan’s words echoed in the room even after he’d left, even louder than the noise the door had made when he’d slammed it. He walked through the kitchen, grabbing his half-empty beer off the counter on his way to his bedroom. Peter thought about how screwed up he was as he went through his closet, laughing aloud at the irony of how he was only going because he couldn‘t bear to disappoint Nathan and Nathan knew that; he had used it against him. Peter took a white oxford off the hanger and collapsed in the floor, sobbing into the bunched up shirt like a child, rolling over onto his side as he kept seeing Nathan’s cold, indifferent face the moment before he left. Like nothing had happened.
Nathan would go on acting that way too, like what they had done was just something else to cover up, and Peter would have to do what he always did, and force him to remember. Peter held the crisp, starched fabric between his fingers as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Next time, he’d make sure Nathan didn’t forget.
Pairing: Nathan/Peter
Rating: Adult
Prompt: Day 12 @
theyreitalian A/n: Title from a Peter Bjorn & John song
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC, and other folks who aren’t me. This is for fun only, never profit.
Peter slammed the glass bottle onto the tile countertop angrily, ignoring the beer that sloshed out onto his fingers and the crack climbing up the right side as he took a deep breath and tried very hard not to break Nathan’s nose.
“Just calm down Pete,” Nathan warned. “All I’m saying is, you should at least try.”
“Try?” Peter roared and the veins that ran up his forearms strained beneath the surface as he clenched both fists tightly by his side, imprinting his palms with shallow crescents as he glared at Nathan in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me, Nathan? Try? I’ve been trying for twenty god damn years. I’m done.”
“Pete,” Nathan sighed exasperatedly and combed his fingers through his unwashed hair. “Don’t say that. He’s your father, whether you like it or not.”
“No,” Peter bit out harshly. “He’s your father.”
“Don’t,” Nathan said, softening his voice a little as he stepped toward Peter and put his hand on his shoulder. This particular sign of affection between them had been, for as long as they both could remember, their version of the olive branch; a silent offering for a truce between them. When Peter twitched violently away from Nathan’s hand, acting as if his fingers had burned right through his skin, Nathan hated the way his stomach twisted into knots. He could see straight through Peter’s pissed off and angry at the world façade. He knew this was just the way Peter had to deal when it came to their father. Pete had to push it to the back of his head and yell and scream about or else it would overtake him, and cripple him with the cold, hard truth that in his father’s eyes, he truly was a disappointment.
“Peter,” Nathan said, grabbing him firmly by both shoulders, pushing Peter against the refrigerator as he struggled to get away. “Listen to me.”
“Let me go,” Peter growled through a clenched jaw as he stomped on Nathan’s foot.
“Listen,” Nathan continued, not missing a beat. Two of his toes might’ve been broken, but he’d deal with that later. “Dad loves you. He doesn’t know how to show it, but I know he does. But more importantly, Peter, I love you.”
Peter, who had been staring at the floor, out the window, refusing to look anywhere but at Nathan, slowly raised his eyes to meet his older brother’s. The first thing Nathan noticed was Peter’s matted, wet eyelashes and his chest tightened painfully. He reached out to wipe away the single tear that had leaked out of the corner of Peter’s eye and Peter caught his hand, pressing his palm into Nathan’s.
“I’m sorry,” Peter murmured, closing his eyes as he leaned into Nathan and touched his wet, salty lips to his brother’s.
“Pete, whoa-” Nathan said, coloring filling his cheeks as he quickly backed away from Peter, absentmindedly raising his fingers to his lips to touch where Peter’s had just been. “What - what was that?”
“I love you Nathan,” Peter murmured, closing the distance between them, putting his hands on Nathan’s shoulders. “Please.” He leaned in again, in another attempt to kiss Nathan, but Nathan put his hand firmly on Peter’s chest, barely stopping him before their lips made contact again.
“Pete…you can’t do this,” He explained, though Peter didn’t miss the uncharacteristic shake in his voice or the way his breathing had quickened, or the beads of sweat that had formed along his hairline. “You’re, you’re upset. It’s okay, just-”
“Shut up,” Peter said, pushing his chest against Nathan’s hand, curling his fingers around Nathan’s neck to force their lips together, crushing Nathan’s mouth with his, quickly sweeping his tongue in between Nathan’s partially parted lips before he could pull away again.
“Peter stop!” Nathan barked out, pulling Peter’s hands off of him, holding them tightly between his own hands so Peter couldn’t pull him back. “You’re my brother, for Christ’s sake! We can’t do this!”
“Stop - fighting it- Nathan!” Peter rebelled, twisting his body around to break free of Nathan’s grasp. When he was free he fisted his hands into Nathan’s suit and shoved him against the wall, knocking the calendar he’d bought from the hospital off, holding Nathan’s arms firmly by his side as he leaned in and pressed their lips together once more. He knew Nathan wanted it, could tell by the way his body always flushed whenever he walked around in his underwear, or the way Nathan’s breathing got shallow when they sat close and talked for hours, but mostly from the way Nathan was always finding an excuse to touch him lately. He knew Nathan wanted it, but he also knew Nathan would never allow himself to be a part of something so taboo, so socially unacceptable; he was better than that. Peter wasn’t though, at least according to their father, so it was up to him to get Nathan to loosen up and accept that this was who they were.
“Stop,” Nathan’s lips moved against his and Peter ignored his protestations and took the opportunity to push his tongue inside. He noticed how the cold exterior began to melt away from Nathan’s body and the way his mouth relaxed as he curled his tongue around Nathan’s and whimpered softly into his mouth; he‘d wanted this for so long.
Nathan stopped fighting against him, but he wasn’t returning his kisses yet either. Peter released his lips, still hovering an inch away from his face, so close their noses rubbed together.
“Please stop, Pete,” Nathan whispered, his voice infused with desperation and sadness. “I can’t do this.”
“But you want to,” Peter murmured, Nathan’s stubble scratching against his lips. “I know you do, stop lying to yourself.”
“I can’t,” Nathan mumbled as Peter kissed his lips again. “We can’t.” Peter grinned against his mouth as he felt Nathan’s arm slip around his waist and pull him tight. “It’s not right.”
“I know,” Peter smirked, nipping lightly at Nathan’s bottom lip, looking up at him with bright, hopeful eyes. “But aren’t you tired of always doing the right thing?”
“Pete,” Nathan said warningly, though his tone lacked the conviction Peter was so used to hearing, and it only encouraged him further. “Pete, stop.” Nathan verbally refused him, but at the same time pushed his hand underneath Peter’s shirt and splayed his fingers out over Peter’s skin.
“I love you, Nathan,” Peter whispered against his ear and Nathan stiffened when he felt Peter’s tongue flick underneath his ear. “So much.”
“I love you too, Pete,” He mumbled, repeating the same pattern over and over on Peter’s back with his thumb as Peter sucked the loose skin around his collarbone between his teeth. “God, stop. Please.” He pleaded helplessly as Peter sucked a vivid bruise onto his neck, eyes falling shut as he felt Peter’s teeth sink into his skin. He hated having to beg Peter to stop; Nathan Petrelli didn’t beg anyone for anything, but this was different than anything he’d ever been a part of. He wasn’t strong enough for this.
“It’s okay, Nathan,” Peter murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth as he tugged Nathan’s shirt out of his trousers, ignoring Nathan’s weak protests of “No,” and “Peter, please don’t,” as he slid his hand beneath the hem of Nathan’s shirt. “Please? I need this.” He whispered next to Nathan’s ear, slowly dragging his tongue along the curve of Nathan’s jaw before pressing his body flush against Nathan’s and kissing him hard, pouring the feelings he’d been forced to keep to himself for so long into Nathan.
The little bit of will power Nathan had left was finally stolen away by Peter’s hard body being pressed against him, and this time when Peter traced his lips with his tongue, Nathan parted them voluntarily and kissed him back. It was slow at first, curious, but Peter guided him willingly, wrapping his hand around the back of Nathan’s neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss until all that Nathan could see, smell, think, hear was Peter’s lips and Peter’s tongue, and Peter’s mouth. Peter kissed him and he kissed Peter back for so long that his lips felt bruised and sore and the only thing that brought him out of his hazy state of euphoria was the shocking discovery that he had an erection. For his brother.
“Oh God, Peter, Peter we have to stop,” He mumbled brokenly, still panting from Peter stealing his breath away with his deep, impassioned kisses, trying desperately to push Peter away from him so that he wouldn’t feel his hardness pressing against him.
“No, we don’t,” Peter argued, rolling his hips against Nathan’s in a way that had Nathan’s eyes rolling into the back of his head and a deep, guttural moan slipping uncontrollably from his lips. “Just be quiet,” he murmured, dragging his tongue along the shell of Nathan’s ear as he began to loosen Nathan’s belt. “And let me do this.”
Nathan was rendered speechless as Peter nipped at his ear and slid his hand beneath the waistband of his boxers. In his head he was screaming for Peter to stop, sobbing like a child, begging for the strength he didn’t have to push Peter off of him, to make him stop this madness. He knew how much his brother weighed and how often he worked out - which was usually never, so it wasn’t even a question of if he could take him. Physically, it wouldn’t take Nathan sixty seconds to get Peter off of him and keep him off. Mentally though, he was weaker than Peter ever had been. Peter was right; he did want this, and he hated himself so much for that. And he hated God for letting something so wrong feel this good.
Peter’s long fingers curled around his erection and Nathan lost all ability to think clearly, or speak for that matter. The sounds that escaped his lips were better classified as desperate, needy moans and gasps of pleasure as Peter kissed his neck, jaw, ear and stroked his cock slowly, drawing out every sweet moan and whimper from Nathan’s mouth. Nathan’s head fell forward, pressing their foreheads together, and Peter smiled as he watched Nathan’s face. He was so beautiful like this, finally letting go of everything he was supposed to be and just being what Peter wanted him to be. His brother.
“Peter,” He whimpered, the first coherent sound out of his mouth since Peter had put his hands on him. “I - I love you.” He panted and Peter could feel Nathan thrusting into his hand and knew he must be close. “So much, so fucking much.”
“I love you too, Nathan,” Peter said, quickening his strokes on Nathan’s cock, looking straight into his eyes as Nathan pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and shuddered, spilling warm and sticky into Peter’s hand. Peter’s mouth was on his before he could catch his breath, sucking Nathan’s cool, dry tongue into his mouth, forcing himself on Nathan so hard and deep that Nathan had to bite Peter’s lip to get him to let him breath.
Nathan slumped against him as he tried to catch his breath and Peter combed his fingers through Nathan’s sweat-dampened hair as he felt Nathan’s chest rising and falling against his own, the tick-tocking of the clock on the wall above the refrigerator echoing loudly all around them.
Eventually, Nathan straightened up, pushing Peter far enough away so that he could tuck his shirt into his pants and zip them up. Peter kept looking for his eyes, waiting for the exact moment Nathan would look up so he could catch them and flash him a half-crooked smile to see if they were all right. Instead, Nathan never looked at him. After fastening his belt he ducked out of the kitchen, grabbing his jacket off the kitchen table and turned back to look at Peter before he reached the door.
“Ma wants to see you at dinner tonight, Peter,” He said and even though Nathan was looking right at him, Peter didn’t think he saw him at all. “Don’t disappoint me.”
Nathan’s words echoed in the room even after he’d left, even louder than the noise the door had made when he’d slammed it. He walked through the kitchen, grabbing his half-empty beer off the counter on his way to his bedroom. Peter thought about how screwed up he was as he went through his closet, laughing aloud at the irony of how he was only going because he couldn‘t bear to disappoint Nathan and Nathan knew that; he had used it against him. Peter took a white oxford off the hanger and collapsed in the floor, sobbing into the bunched up shirt like a child, rolling over onto his side as he kept seeing Nathan’s cold, indifferent face the moment before he left. Like nothing had happened.
Nathan would go on acting that way too, like what they had done was just something else to cover up, and Peter would have to do what he always did, and force him to remember. Peter held the crisp, starched fabric between his fingers as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Next time, he’d make sure Nathan didn’t forget.
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Thank you.
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Ohh, do I smell a sequel? I surely do hope so!
You nailed it on their voices. This was very in character. Kudos my friend! I loved it! Very hot! I was in a foul mood earlier and this just brightened up my day! Thank you!
Ohh, I noticed that you put this:
"Nathan’s head fell forehead"
You meant forward, right? Just thought I'd let you know.
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