Fic: Wanna Bet? - Nathan/Peter - nc-17

[withimpunity]

Title: Wanna Bet?
Pairing: Peter/Nathan
Rating: nc-17
Words: 1435
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC, and other folks who aren't me. This is for fun only, never profit.
Summary: In which there is a bet and Peter loses. Or does he?


Peter's face is bright red as he softly steps into Nathan's office, hoping Nathan won't notice him and he can turn and flee before Nathan sees him like this. Stupid, stupid bets, Peter thinks to himself. Those Christian Fundamentalists are right. Gambling is definitely the work of the devil.

"How'd you get it?" Nathan's voice interrupts his thoughts, but when Peter looks at him, his eyes are still focused on the papers spread out in front of him.

"Went invisible," Peter mutters under his breath, fidgeting nervously in the doorway. "Took it out of her closet."

Nathan's eyes raise from his papers and appraise him and Peter feels himself shrinking under the scrutiny. "You could go invisible now," Nathan says as he smirks and leans back in his chair, challenging Peter to give up.

"A bet is a bet," Peter crosses his arm over his chest, then lets them fall by his side, cracking each knuckle individual as Nathan's intense gaze burns straight through him. "I lost. You won. So here I am. Can I go now?"

"No," Nathan says gruffly. "Stop fidgeting and come over here."

Peter rsighs, rolling his eyes as he stalks over to Nathan's desk, leaning against the dark mahogany as Nathan looks him over, smugness written all across his face.

"I can't believe you actually did it," He chuckles, toying with the hem of Claire's old cheerleading skirt with his fingers. "I mean, I know that was the deal. But I didn't think..."

"Right." Peter sighs. "Then I can go take it off, yeah? Are we done? You finished humiliating me for now, Nathan?"

"No," Nathan snaps as his fingers curl around Peter's thigh right above his knee. "I mean. Don't take it off."

Peter stares at Nathan curiously, his cheeks filling with even more warmth and color as he pushes dark bangs out of his eyes. "Nathan?" He asks, though he's not sure quite what it is he wants to know.

Nathan's hand slides up Peter's thigh as he stands up out of his chair. "Do you have any idea how you look?" He asks, dark brown eyes unable to fix themselves on one singlearea of Peter's body.

"Like an idiot," Peter mutters. "That was the point, right?"

Nathan laughs darkly and traces his fingers along the stitching on the hem of Claire's skirt. "That was the point," he emphasizes, casually slipping his fingers beneath the edge of the skirt.

"What do you mean?" Peter's voice almost cracks, his gut tightening as Nathan's fingers ghost across his skin.

"Peter," Nathan leans in, his fingers inching farther up the inside of Peter's thigh as he murmurs in Peter's ear. "You don't look like an idiot. Trust me." Nathan's lips graze the shell of Peter's ear as he slips his hand underneath Claire's skirt and his fingers brush against warm, hard flesh.

"JesusChrist," Nathan swears and his fingers flinch away from Peter's erection. "You're not wearing any underwear?"

"T-too long for the skirt," Peter trembled when Nathan's knuckles grazed the head of his cock, then again when he jerked them away at the loss of contact, and even more so now at how wrong this whole situation is. Nathan's looking at him and touching him and talking to him the way he always wanted him to; all it took was stealing his niece's old cheerleading uniform out of her room while she was sleeping and prancing around in it to get Nathan's attention. Some family indeed.

"Pete," Nathan says and if it had been anyone else, Peter would've called it a whimper, taking Peter's face between his two large hands, staring directly into his eyes. "This is - you are -" Then Nathan's kissing him, still holding his face between his hands, pushing his tongue into Peter's mouth desperately, hungrily, like he's trying to tell Peter something but doesn't know how to do it with words.

"I've got to fuck you," Nathan says, nipping at Peter's bottom lip as he reaches under Claire's skirt and takes Peter's erection in his hand, pulling and stroking, covering Peter's mouth with his own when he starts to moan.

"Yes," Peter gasps as Nathan slides his fingers over the head of his cock, smearing them with precome.

"Turn around." Nathan demands, grasping Peter's shoulder to swiftly spin him about face.

Peter's never done this before, but he's not stupid and he doesn't have to be a mind reader to know what Nathan's thinking. He spreads his legs as Nathan hikes Claire's skirt up his back and slides two lubricated fingers along the cleft of his ass, slowly pushing them against his tight hole until Peter relaxes and they slide in, stretching and preparing him.

"Nathan," He gasps sharply as Nathan's fingers penetrate him, and it burns, but he pushes back against them anyway because this is what he wants. He wants Nathan inside of him more than he's ever wanted anything in his life. He knows its going to hurt, but he's good at dealing with pain. He just wants to be filled to the brim with his brother because then he'll know that at least for those few moments, he and Nathan really were connected.

"You wanted this, didn't you?" Nathan hisses at his neck, leaning over Peter's body as he works his fingers in and out of his tight hole, adding another finger when he thinks Peter is ready; he's not, but he bites his lip to keep from making a sound. He won't let Nathan know he's hurting him because he might stop and if he stops, Peter might have to do something drastic. Something worse than wearing a cheerleading outfit without any underwear to seduce his brother. "You lost the bet on purpose, didn't you Peter?"

A moan spills from Peter's lips as Nathan thrusts his fingers into him roughly.

"Answer me," Nathan growls, biting down on exposed skin where Peter's loose white shirt has slipped off his shoulder. "I want to hear you say it."

"Yes," Peter hisses, fingers curling beneath the edge of Nathan's desk as Nathan's fingers brush his prostate. "Nathan."

"You want me to fuck you, Pete?" He asks, sliding his fingers out of Peter. Peter can hear the rasp of Nathan's zipper behind him as he removes his pants and he feels his cock harden even more in anticipation. "You want to get fucked in the ass like a little slut? In your slutty little skirt?"

"Nathan please," Peter whimpers, spreading his legs even further, rubbing his cock against the smooth wood to relieve the painful throbbing.

"Say it," Nathan murmurs and Peter can feel his lips move across his skin. "Please, Pete. I've got to know."

"Fuck me," Peter growls, pushing back, grinding his ass against Nathan's cock, making his brother groan and grasp for his hips. "Fuck me like a slut, Nathan. Fuck, I want you to fuck me so fucking bad. Please, God."

Nathan's fingernails slice into Peter's skin as he grasps Peter's hips and pushes into him. The breath is stole from his lungs as he sinks into Peter inch by inch, feeling Peter's tight, hot ass squeezing his cock like a vice, almost painfully so. NathanNathan, Peter's chanting and sometimes the sounds that he makes sound like sobs, but he doesn't say stop, never stop, so Nathan doesn't - couldn't even if he wanted to. Being inside Peter is like pure bliss; in this moment, with his cock so far inside Peter's ass he doesn't know where he ends and Peter begins, he knows who he is and what he's meant for. He's meant for Peter and nothing else matters.

"I love you Nathan," Peter gasps brokenly as Nathan fucks him into the desk, scraping mahogany stain off with his fingernails.

"You are so fucking beautiful," Nathan pants as he thrusts into Peter, reaching around under the pleated skirt to wrap his hand around Peter's cock, and it doesn't take much; pull, flick, pull, and when Peter comes, he comes. He spills onto Nathan's fingers, staining Claire's skirt, and the muscles inside of him clench around Nathan's cock, squeezing and spasming around him until Nathan shouts and jerks forward, spilling his hot release inside Peter and collapsing on his back.

"How long have you wanted that?" Nathan asks some time later, sitting in his office chair with Peter curled in his lap.

"Mmm," Peter thinks, pressing his lips to Nathan's salty skin. "Longer than you."

Nathan grins broadly as he cards his fingers through Peter's shaggy, unkempt hair.

"Wanna bet?"