The Aphrodisiac Power

[chimeramimicry]

((From here: http://community.livejournal.com/sixwordstories/39775644.html))

Groggy and thinking about Jack, the smell of him on his clothing, the taste of him on his lips, and the excitement of that afternoon with Nathan's drinking lulled Peter down.  His reaction times were usually so spot on, but right now, they were nothing.  Lazily, his head tilted as he tried to figure out what he was going to do about Jack.  The hand under his shift reminded him of the other man, the breath against his neck--

Was Nathan.

"Are you cold?"

Innocent to a fault, Peter pushed himself up on his elbows and frowned lightly at his brother in confusion, especially at the way his lips were moving against the swan-like curve of his neck.  He sucked in a breath, disheveled and pretty.  His eyes swam with a mixture of things -- his brother's lust was magnified inside of him from his empathy, Jack's kissing had set him on fire, and a mixture of disbelief.

"Nathan?"

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Nathan raised his head at the sound of his name, and opened his mouth to answer. When his eyes locked with Peter's he was struck mute. What was the point of speaking? What could he possibly say? How could he put into words a feeling he himself didn't even understand?

This whole moment was surreal, each second like an eternity as his mind raced, his blood already warming with arousal. Peter was his brother, and this was unforgivably wrong, but he was also incredibly beautiful, inciting something inside of him the likes of which he hadn't felt since...since never, Nathan was sure of it.

The last of his control over this slipped away as he pressed two fingers to Peter's lips and shushed him, then pulled him back down to kiss him.

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What. The hell. Is going. On?

Peter's eyelashes fluttered against Nathan's cheek. Three times now a simple attempt to sleep or nap turned into something else entirely. In all, three days of life with this version of Nathan had managed to get him kissed four times if one counted when he was an amnesiac. Add in twice with Jack Harkness and Peter had just seen more concentrated action than he ever had before in his life.

And that was counting his disasterous courtship of Malinda Carlisle in high school, the two girls he had sort of dated in college while he was trying to get is nursing liscense, and Simone Deveaux.

He was shocked, too shocked, to react at first and a mumbled query could have been seen as something else entirely. He didn't mean to kiss Nathan back, in short, but he was.

No matter what Jack said, Peter was sure of it now.

He had some power to make men kiss him. And he couldn't shut it off. "Na--" he said, muffled.

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Nathan felt Peter's lips move against his, and his blood rushed so loudly in his ears he didn't hear the muffled protest that Peter was trying to voice. No, all he knew was that Peter was kissing back.

Was there something in English water that turned brothers into lovers, like the Janus twins? Or was Jack Harkness, every single version of him, just so sexually charged that it affected everyone in his proximity? Perhaps a special ability Harkness possessed that the human sponge that was Peter had soaked up unwittingly?

Whatever the explanation, he couldn't care. Peter wasn't fighting him this time, wasn't pulling back or wiggling away, and Nathan had given up fighting as well.

Wanting this with Peter had been at the forefront of his mind for days, and he'd have to be crazy to stop now. Shifting over, he pulled Peter on top of him, their lips still pressed together, using little nudges of his tongue to get him to open his mouth. A little shy, that was all, right?

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Now that did get a protest! And a bit of a wiggle! It was hard to really do either with a tongue in his mouth and an arm across his back. He didn't want to hurt Nathan. He was sure that this was his fault anyhow!

Oh, unfair! Fate was cruel. What if he could never be around men again? Or ever around people? What if spending enough time near him caused people to jump him!?

So many thoughts in his head and Peter didn't realize he was actually kissing Nathan back. Fervently. His fingers moved into Nathan's hair, eyes closing.

It lasted for just one moment -- or two full minutes actually -- before Peter pulled back, out of Nathan's arms, and right out of bed too until his back hit the wall.

"Do you know who I am!?"

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All right, this was getting a bit ridiculous, Nathan thought, not deterred too much by Peter's sudden turnaround. He got up and advanced toward where Peter stood. Shy didn't mean launch himself out of the bed until he smacked up against the wall.

Nathan let out a frustrated sigh. "Of course I know who you are, Peter. I'm not the one who had amnesia." His words were spoken breathlessly, no sarcasm intended.

"Why are you doing this to me?" The question left his lips before he could think to stop it. "You want me or you don't. Make up your mind." If not shy, what about downright scared, then? Peter had insisted he was not gay. Maybe he was just hiding from the truth? Nathan had done it himself for years.

He figured if he didn't do this, Peter might pull away again, so he pinned Peter's slender wrists lightly against the wall at his back and leaned into him, a shiver running through him when his hips pressed flush to his brother's. He couldn't help but gasp at the sensation, the sound muffled into another open-mouthed kiss.

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"Nathan, I'm not doing a damned thing!" Peter growled as Nathan stalked closer and closer to him. "Honest. I don't know what's happened, what's happening to me, but I'm not--"

You want me or you don't.

"You're my brother, of course I want--" But Nathan hadn't meant it like that. Not by a long shot. Peter realized this, and oh. Oh! It scared him so much. Tilting back his head, he felt Nathan's hands on his wrists.

Fuck.

"NATHAN--"

The kiss silenced him well enough. He screwed up his eyes so very tightly and exhaled as Nathan's tongue slipped into his mouth again. The pressure against his groin made him yelp before he finally colleged his wits, and his strength, and shoved the man back.

"Jesus, Nathan, try to think--"

Peter touched his lower lip, fingers trembling as he looked at his brother. This...all of this...was real.

"Why?"

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Nathan staggered back and swiped a hand across his mouth, momentarily overwhelmed by what he'd just done. When he was finally able to think again, he realized he was going about this all wrong.

Peter hadn't said 'No' or 'Stop'. He'd asked Nathan 'why?'

He liked to think he was a decent person, and the career he'd forged for himself had been spent on the right side of the law. Incest was illegal in the universe where they'd come from, and of course, morally wrong.

So why? Why now did he feel like this every time Peter sat so close, touched him with such affection? What exactly had changed? He owed his brother some sort of explanation, but frankly, he was grasping at straws.

And from the looks of it, Peter was scared shitless, actually shaking a little.

Nathan moved back toward him, much more slowly this time, holding his hands up, palms outward, until he was just about an arm's length away. "You want me to be honest with you, Peter? I don't know why. I'm not trying to hurt you, if that's what you think."

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Peter took a step towards Nathan and dropped his head against his shoulder, squeezing his eyes tight as he put his arms around his waist. Nathan's goal in life was not to hurt him, and Peter really did know that. "I don't think anything," he murmured, echoing what Jack had said. He really did like him a great deal, Jack.

But Nathan--

"I don't know what to do." Peter couldn't look at his brother, though this was a good first step, burrowing his face against Nathan's chest. There was a time that Peter would have given anything for this man, anything he asked, but now that Nathan was trying to cash in the chips, Peter was backing out.

How could he--

He pressed a tentative kiss to the underside of Nathan's jaw. He smelled soap and felt stubble against his lips.

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I don't know what to do.

Nathan stood there for those few moments, Peter in his arms, unsure of himself as well. He couldn't take a breath, didn't move a muscle, not wanting to scare Peter any more than he already had. Peter was his brother, and brothers didn't do things like this. Not in his world. Peter's either.

He opened his mouth to tell Peter he didn't have to do anything when finally, he did, placing the softest of kisses in the strangest place, just beneath his jaw, and surprised, Nathan almost pushed him back.

"What are you doing?" he asked, even though he knew it was a ridiculous question. He was giving Nathan what he wanted, of course. As long as he'd been alive, Nathan had always gotten what he wanted.

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That was the truth. That was Peter's thought process. He closed his eyes, cheeks red and head tilted downwards. What he had seen today with Jack, those twins downstairs, had startled him. Shocked him.

Three thousand years from now, you could love your brother as much as your wife. It would be possible. Maybe Nathan's desires weren't all that unwholesome. It wasn't as if they grew up together. Nathan had been out of the house by the time Peter was seven. He was in the military, at law school, passing him in the night or on holidays and important occasions...

And that was it.

"How the fuck should I know what I'm doing, Nathan?!" Peter asked, pulling away in anger and humiliation.

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Nathan looked up at Peter's outburst, and he had to swallow it down again, that insane laughter that had claimed him the last time. His own mental process was going to drive him batty. Peter had yelled at him, and he was red in the face, either from anger or embarrassment, maybe both. How the fuck could Nathan find this the least bit funny?

Then it occurred to him. A defense mechanism. Easier to laugh off these abnormal feelings and desires than to actually deal with them. Denial: one of his greatest fallbacks. No different than when he'd lied and said Peter tried to commit suicide, not test out his flight.

After a few deep breaths, he pulled Peter back towards him, steeling his resolve again. "No, you don't know what you're doing. But I do."

He tilted Peter's face up for yet another kiss, this time gentle, not forced.

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But I do. The words stuck to Peter as he felt Nathan's hands on him and his breath against his forehead and his cheek. And then his mouth.

With Jack, this had been easy. He'd been eased into it, perched on the edge of the coffee table. And that was not how Nathan did things. This wasn't what Nathan did at all.

Peter found himself swept up in his brother's arms, Nathan's mouth and lips against his own.

What was happening? Was he kissing him back? Oh, that was a very easy answer. Yes indeed, Peter's mouth was moving, not to speak or to yell, but to return an affection.

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He felt Peter sink into the kiss this time, and before long, Nathan's hands became more confident, sliding under his shirt again, moving over his brother's back, his chest. Never in his life, before coming to this place, would he have dreamed of touching Peter like this, his mouth never far from Peter's for long.

Nathan tried to convince himself that this was perfectly all right. They'd shared a bed just a day ago, hadn't they? They were no strangers to affection in most of its forms. This was just another expression of the love they had for each other. Wasn't it?

If it were only that. Nathan couldn't deny the fact that his body wanted more than his mind or his heart did. With or without his empathy, Peter had to understand this, with Nathan pressed so close to him.

He guided Peter along with him until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he pulled Peter down with him.

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Peter gave off a soft 'oof' when he landed on top of his brother. He had not made the bold moves with his hands like Nathan had, he wasn't exactly sure if he could. At least Nathan was happy. Peter was still too unsure of himself. He curled his fingers against his brother's cheek and looked down into matching eyes.

He wanted to ask how much Nathan wanted, but he was afraid that it would be what he could already guess. Peter didn't know if he could go through with that.

As Nathan leaned in to kiss him, Peter pressed his fingers over his brother's lips, worry in his eyes.

"Where does this go?"

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Nathan furrowed his brow at Peter's strange question, and he searched Peter's eyes for more of an explanation. Where did what go?

Oh. This. Them.

Nathan sat up, taking Peter with him. He cupped Peter's cheek in one hand, and rubbed high on his thigh with the other.

"Now that's the good thing about not knowing what you're doing," Nathan began, taking control of this situation as easily as if he were teaching Peter how to hit a baseball, or ride a bicycle. "You can sit back...relax...and let me do everything." He lowered his brother down onto his back, leaning over him, wondering if Peter would be so easily convinced.

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Peter sucked in a deep breath as he was flipped over onto his back. "Nathan--" He was hushed, and Peter stayed hushed. He was not an idiot. He could guess where this was going and while part of his revolted, the rest of him wanted to give Nathan just what he wanted. His heart was beating so very fast when Nathan kissed him again and he groaned, leaning up to kiss him as he'd spent the morning doing with Jack.

A different sort of kiss, not the kind he gave to women, but a little rougher.

He actually preferred it that way. He sighed against Nathan's mouth and lifted his lips again when his brother moved away.

"I'm not... I'm not sure that this... Nathan--"

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Nathan took Peter's words of uncertainty into consideration just long enough to hear them, then promptly ignore them.

"You don't need to be sure. You just stay right there. Trust me. If you don't like it, I'm sure you'll let me know," he said, giving Peter a small smile. Too much and Peter would bolt.

He commanded himself to go slowly as he pushed Peter's shirt up a bit, fingers brushing lightly over that slight bit of dark hair on his stomach. "There are some things you don't know about me, Peter," he said matter-of-factly, before he pulled Peter's belt open and lowered his zipper.

Nathan's heart hammered madly inside his chest now, and sweat beaded at his temples, but he didn't let any of it stop him. Not this close. Not even that annoying voice in his head that he was sure was his conscience. He slipped his hand inside Peter's boxers and took hold of him, not really surprised to find that none of this had affected him just yet.

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Peter blinked as he watched Nathan's hands on his belt. He had been about to ask what it was now that he didn't know about his brother when he felt that warm hand wrap around him. Peter was only human. He gasped, Nathan taking advantage of that to tug Peter's pants to his knees. The younger man was small and light enough to make that easy.

He tilted back his head. Peter Petrelli, no matter the mutation in his blood, in his very cells, was still just a young human man. He still responded to the touch as anyone else would have who was not entirely certain if he was disgusted by it or just pretty sure he ought to be.

Tilting back his chin to the ceiling, Peter whimpered, his toes toes curling in his sneakers.

"God--"

It had been almost half a year since anyone touched him like that.

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Nathan gazed down on his brother as he moved his hand back and forth over him. He knew it wasn't just his imagination when he felt that telltale jump, that sensitive flesh swiftly responding, the movements of his hand facilitating his brother's full erection.

Peter's body arched beautifully, his head tilted back, soft sounds escaping his lips. His mind may not have been sure about this, but his body had other ideas. As Nathan had expected.

"You all right over there?" Nathan asked, just a hint of a smirk curling at his lips. "Or are you still trying to figure out what that thing is you didn't know about me?" He stroked a little faster, his other hand tugging at Peter's shirt to get him to take it off.

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Truthfully, Peter had actually forgotten how to think for a few minutes. He probably couldn't even had told Nathan his own name if the man asked him. His mind was elsewhere, focused on the touch. The voice cut through the haze of what was such an illicit touch that it was probably for the best that he had shut down for the moment.

The tug on his shirt gave way to the motion Nathan wanted. In pulling off his shirt, he stretched the lean muscles of his torso, inadvertently showing off his deliciously toned body in the process.

When he managed to speak, Peter's voice was thick. "What...don't I know about you?"

Yeah, his innocence really was that cute.

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Nathan pulled his own shirt over his head, marveling at how different the two of them looked above the belt. Peter's skin was a few shades lighter than his, shoulders narrower, his chest completely free of hair except for a thin line over his abdominals that led down to the thick patch above his cock.

"You think you're the first man I've ever touched like this?" Nathan said, that smile still playing at his lips. Peter might be innocent, but he wasn't stupid.

He shed his own pants and underwear, thinking it was only fair for Peter to see him fully unclothed as well. If he wanted to look, that was. He didn't think much beyond that. He shouldn't, not if he didn't want it to get to him. The guilt was never too far from the forefront of his mind, especially when he made the impulsive decision to lean over his brother and press his lips to the sensitive place below the head of Peter's dick.

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Peter's eyes fluttered across Nathan. He didn't exactly feel a tingle or a need. Looking at him seemed normal. Natural. He'd seen Nathan naked before. Just last summer, before Heidi's accident, they'd all been at the lake and Nathan and Peter and the two boys had showered together in the small boat house.

It meant nothing to look, but the moment Nathan touched him, kissed him there, Peter forgot the breath.

"Aaaah," he whispered. It hadn't mattered who else Nathan did this with. Peter was not an overly jealous sort of man. He was too occupied trying to figure all of this out anyway.

What the hell was he going to let Nathan do?

Peter unfisted his hand from the sheets and moved it into Nathan's lengthened curls. "Jesus Christ, Nathan..."

...we're going to hell.

...just suck me hell off!

...please...please...please...

...get the fuck away from me!

...make me come...

All of the above? Was that an option?

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Nathan's entire body tensed when he felt his brother's fingers latch into his hair, sure that he had made a terrible mistake. Next he would be hauled up and away from him, and Peter would probably curse at him or say something like--

Jesus Christ, Nathan...

Definitely not something like that.

He braced himself with one hand against Peter's thigh, and with the other took hold of him at the base, moving in short strokes as he ran his tongue up and down and around the head teasingly. So overcome with his lust for his brother, for what Peter was actually allowing him to do, Nathan was no longer even thinking about how wrong this was when at last he slid his mouth down on him.

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Peter tilted his head back as he was engulfed in warm wetness. He was just a man, a young man, and his sexual appetite was the same as any other's. Having someone suck him off was less a matter of 'who' as it was of skill. No, scratch that. He'd even take a really poorly skilled blowjob.

Scratching his fingers up the back of Nathan's head, Peter's hips twitched slightly and he pressed his thighs against Nathan's shoulders.

"Harder," he murmured, watching the ceiling. "Uhh...God..."

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The sounds Peter made sent chills down his back, lit his blood on fire. Nathan coudn't believe what he was doing. His brother lay beneath him, his hips jerking shallowly each time the head of his cock met Nathan's tongue or the back of Nathan's throat.

At Peter's soft request, Nathan obliged without hesitation, speeding up his rhythm, his mouth and his hand never faltering for a moment, working completely in tandem to give Peter the most stimulation possible. Now that he'd dared to go this far, he'd already decided on the outcome: for orgasm to sneak up on Peter so suddenly he wouldn't have the chance to stop himself. Nathan Petrelli did nothing without his intent clearly in mind.

His own cock was still achingly hard, and he resisted the urge to rub himself against the sheets, instead taking his pleasure in his skill at performing oral sex. Oh, he was going to hell now, absolutely, if all the other wrongs he'd committed hadn't already reserved him a place.

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Peter's mind was deliciously blank for once. He put his heart and soul into everything he did, leaving him a writhing mess intent only on fucking the mouth wrapped so tightly around him. If it was not for Nathan's stabilizing hand, Peter could have caused some real damage in his lust. Luckily for them both, that was not the case.

A dozen thrusts against the sandwich if Nathan's tongue and the room of his mouth and Peter literally whimpered as he came. He left three little scratch marks on the back of Nathan's neck, thighs trembling and his stomach nice and taut.

He collapsed back, feline like, on the mattress and raised his arms over his head as the chills subsided.

"Mmm," he said, half purring.

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Peter's sound of contentment mirrored Nathan's own thoughts, the half-sweet, half-salty taste of Peter's come lingering in his mouth as he watched his brother stretch out to enjoy his afterglow.

"You know, for someone who had no idea what they were doing, I think you did pretty well," Nathan said, this time letting a full grin spread over his face before dropping a few errant kisses along the tight muscles of Peter's stomach.

He pushed himself up on the bed to lie beside his brother, propping his head up against one of Peter's arms, and lazily ran his hand along his own length, finally easing the intense need he felt for some kind of contact. Maybe when Peter composed himself he'd be interested in reciprocating in some way, but if not, he'd at least be watching. Nathan could get off on that.

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Pleasure's ability to dissolve what they were doing had a way of leaving it forming back up again once it left. All that Peter could think about was Nathan's voice. He kept his eyes closed as this hands moved over his skin and shame followed suit. His pants were around his ankles. He still had his shoes on. And his older brother was laying beside him, teasing slightly.

It was a nightmare.

Peter didn't know if he ought to turn back towards Nathan or away from him. He sat up instead and hurriedly pulled on his pants, standing with his back towards his older brother as he fumbled five times in a row with his belt before he managed to get it back on.

Damn it. God damn it. What had they done?

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Nathan shot upright in his bed, momentarily forgetting about his own need for release when Peter got up and began dressing. He rested his hands on Peter's shoulders and pressed in slightly with his fingertips, trying to turn him around to face him.

"Hey, Pete...what're you doing? What the hell's the matter with you?" He tried not to let the sudden shot of anger infiltrate through the confusion in his voice, but he didn't succeed completely.

Of course Nathan should be angry! What man, or even woman for that matter, had ever accepted something like that from him and then acted like this? Like they wanted to get as far away from him as possible, as quickly as they could?

Your own brother, that's who.

"Fuck," Nathan sighed, pulling Peter into his arms, hugging him to his chest tightly. "I shouldn't have fucking done that. God damn it."

Something that would never change, he supposed. Nathan had once again taken advantage of his brother's trust in him, and used it to hurt him.

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Without a word, Peter turned int Nathan's arms and pressed his face against his bare chest and shoulders. Everything hurt. Absolutely everything. Physically, he was starting to hyperventilate, his joints were on fire, and he wanted nothing more than to claw into Nathan, to sink in his fingernails and cling for dear, sweet life. Tears, however, did not hit his eyes, and his voice did not break, even if he felt his mind shatter just for a moment.

Slowly, his arms fell to his sides. They hung limply. Relestlessly just the same, fingers curled up into fists.

"You love me, right, Nathan?"

His words were muffled against the curve of Nathan's throat.

He didn't doubt his brother. He just needed to know that this didn't change them. Even if it had changed Peter.

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Nathan felt the words more than he actually heard them as Peter's lips moved against his skin, and he had to swallow down a sudden tightness in his throat. He was alarmed by the slackness of Peter's body in his arms, and quite ridiculously he feared that if he let go, Peter would collapse into a heap on the plush carpeting.

He took a breath to answer, but his voice came out weaker than he intended. "Of course..."

Nathan hugged him even tighter, so much that he could feel Peter's heart pounding against his chest, his breaths that came much too fast. He forced the words out, his voice still impossibly thick. "Of course I love you, Peter. You know that. No matter what."

Cupping Peter's face and tilting it upwards so he could look into his eyes, he continued, "You're my brother. Nothing takes that away from you. Not even falling through a goddamn crack in the universe, all right?"

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Peter ventured a smile, his eyelids fluttered before he found that yes, yes he could actually look up into Nathan's eyes and survive it. No God struck them down. They were both alive. Breathing. And Nathan loved him.

He'd just proven it quite distinctly.

Peter's heart swelled and he wrapped his arms fiercely around his big brother's neck and kissed him hard enough to bruise their lips before the taste of himself made him pull back.

He wrinkled his nose.

"That's kinda..." Gross. He tugged at Nathan's hand and pulled him along to the bathroom. "How about no more of that. Damn, I feel bad for my past girlfriends." He offered Nathan a weak smile and sat him on the toilet as he located his toothbrush.

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"You uh...you just kind of get used to it," Nathan said mindlessly, slumping down onto the toilet lid, still completely naked, not even giving a damn. He could feel the start of a spectacular case of blue balls coming on, and he pressed his fist to his forehead, trying to take in a few breaths until the sick feeling passed.

He risked a glance over at Peter, who was looking in the mirror, his brow furrowed, his mouth almost overflowing with toothpaste foam as he brushed his teeth and tongue vigorously.

Nathan really had something to laugh about this time, honestly, but he felt as though he might cry instead.

What the fuck had he been thinking, pressuring Peter into something like that? Selfishly trying to get what he wanted, like usual. Guilt and shame slammed him like a punch in the stomach, and there was no use in fighting it off with a smart comment or a witty joke. Peter's empathy would see right through it.

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Same toothbrush, rinsed and reapplied, Peter crouched in front of his brother -- oh, what a position to be in! -- and thumbed open his mouth as well. Yes, he was planning on brushing Nathan's teeth for him. It was a bit of a reverse there, from when Peter was just a little thing, perched on the sink with kicking feet and submitted to 'Nay-fan' cleaning up his teeth for him.

That little boy was now a twenty-seven year old man who had just came in his brother's mouth.

Peter pantomimed baring his teeth to get Nathan to do the same. He'd probably done this for the patients in his hospice care.

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Nathan pushed Peter's hand away from his face, the shame burning across his cheeks deepening with his anger, now returned, and much, much worse.

Another one of Nathan Petrelli's finely honed defense mechanisms. Instead of being angry at himself for sexually involving himself with his brother almost entirely against his will, he'd just be angry at Peter instead. Even if he was just trying to help.

"What the fuck are you--Give me that, I'm not a fucking child, Peter," he snapped, grabbing the toothbrush out of Peter's hand and shoving it into his mouth. He got up and shoulder-checked Peter roughly out of his way so he could lean over the sink. He scrubbed the taste of his brother's come from his mouth, his breaths coming so hard toothpaste sprayed out and left spots on the mirror.

Nathan swiped a hand across the mirror to wipe them away, but he only succeeded in smearing it. Just as well. He didn't want to see his reflection anyway, not that he really could with tears blurring his vision.

He was not going to cry. No fucking way.

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Peter opened and closed his mouth. He could feel the pain coming from Nathan and he realized just how heartless he was telling his brother that it was disgusting to kiss him after he'd given him pleasure. Peter hadn't meant to be cruel...and though Nathan was cruel himself in the way that he had gone about this whole thing, Peter's guilt complex was well ingrained in him from a Catholic upbringing and a hard nosed mother.

He wouldn't let Nathan cry in front of him.

"I'll be back in a little while," Peter said, finding a fresh shirt ontop of the laundry pile. He left the room, left Nathan.

And went to get some coffee.