After the Werewolves

[chimeramimicry]

"After the Werewolves"
Who:  Peter Petrelli & Jack Harkness (Torchwood)


Jack had left him panting.  Where did that kiss come from?  He'd been almost mauled the moment he stepped out of the elevator, shoved back against the wall...  Oh, not that Peter minded.  No.  He loved the way that Jack kissed him, he loved the extreme force behind it.  Peter had been shocked for a moment, but gave right into it, panting, groaning, pulling at that leather jacket.

The bruises that kiss caused healed in moments when Jack pulled away again.  Peter gazed up at him with such dark eyes as Jack swallowed and stepped away from him.  They didn't speak.  Didn't Jack have that other guy he was interested in?  Where did that come from.

"Oh God," he breathed, pressing his face into his hands to calm himself and his heart...  To still his erection.  "Oh God."

He stumbled towards the front door to the apartment he shared with his brother and left himself inside.  He was bloody, as he said he'd been.  Fighting werewolves would do that to you.

"Nathan?"

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[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

Nathan had spent the evening reading his law books, and actually hadn't passed out after the first chapter. Or the second. He'd actually made notes for himself as well. It had been a very productive evening, to say the least.

Peter had been gone a long time, and though he'd known he had nothing to worry about unless a werewolf was smart enough to impale the back of Peter's head with his incredibly sharp and long fangs, he still worried anyway and had finished off the bottle of red wine to calm his nerves.

He'd been pleasantly drunk and still happy when he heard the elevator ping and stop on his floor. The sight that greeted him when he opened it could not have been worse.

Peter, covered in blood, his clothes torn and shredded, arms and lips and hands all over Jack Fucking Harkness, against the wall across from the elevator. Three doors away from Nathan's apartment.

That Nathan shared with his brother.

Nathan's stomach twisted inside of him, all that sickening, overwhelming jealousy unleashed once again, that last glass of wine threatening to come back up as he watched Peter sink his hands into Jack's jacket, watched Jack lean into him, heard Peter's sounds of approval as he enjoyed the attention.

He watched until Jack pulled away and Peter gave him those fucking puppy eyes, and then he couldn't take it anymore, his stomach flipping once again. Nathan had half a mind to lock the door on him, but then where would he go? Jack's fucking bed, no doubt.

And then he wouldn't even get the chance to confront Peter about the disgusting display he'd just witnessed.

So Nathan refilled his glass, Scotch this time, and waited for Peter to come in. A half-minute later, the door clicked open and shut.

He looked up at the sound of his name leaving Peter's mouth. The mouth that had just been all over Jack Harkness. Trembling, his blood racing with alcohol and anger, his voice threateningly low, Nathan answered, "Yes, Peter?"

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Peter grinned at his brother, sensing nothing wrong at all. He was on a contact high from Jack's overpowering pheromones. He was absolutely filled with adrenaline. "You should have been there. I got to play nurse." That part amused him most. "And I think I made a new friend out of that doctor. Owen. Sorry I'm a little late. I went out with him and Jack and Gadget. You should have seen the look that they gave us. I mean, here we are, a group of kids that just got chewed on, covered in dirt and blood--"

He paused, blinking at Nathan. He knew that look. Nathan was pissed off.

Peter immediately jumped back onto the mat and took off his boot and coat. He assumed that Nathan was mad at him for tracking in mud!

"Oh, sorrrry! I'm sorry. Wasn't thinking. Anyhow, so Jack went up to the bartender and was like--"

He was going to ramble all night evidently.

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Nathan kept his voice incredibly low and steady even as his hand shook, gripped tightly around his glass. "Shut your fucking mouth, Peter."

He tilted it back and swallowed some of the liquor, grimacing as it burned on its way down to his stomach, made worse because he'd been drinking wine right before. Not a good idea to mix the two. Too fucking bad.

"I don't give a shit what Jack said to a goddamn bartender, Peter. You know what I do give a shit about?" Nathan asked, standing up, advancing slowly toward his brother, not quite sure what he would do when he got within arm's reach of him.

"I just opened the door and got an eyeful of something Jack's been trying to say to you since you played his fucking Sleeping Beauty."

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Peter was too shocked to say anything at first, mouth hanging open like a frog trying to catch flies. "Excuse me?" he finally coughed out, understanding what his brother saw without understanding why he was upset. He turned his head to the side, eyes narrowing. He wasn't trying to read his mind, literally, but he was attempting to puzzle out what was going on.

Since when had whatever they been doing meant that Peter couldn't see someone else? Nathan was his brother. And that was a fact that Nathan himself was clinging to even when Peter was trying to convince himself otherwise.

"We're just friends." Friends that kissed and shoved their tongues in each others' mouths evidently! Peter knew Jack cared for someone else. He knew it! But they could kiss, couldn't they?

Nathan was drinking as if he'd turned into a fish, and Peter was having none of it.

"What is this? Some sort of stupid jealous act, Nathan? How many times did I fucking cover for you with Heidi? And you were married!" He threw up his hands. "So I kissed him? So what!"

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

"Friends. I like that. Really, I do," Nathan said sarcastically, pouring himself another shot, taking slight pleasure in the fact that it really got under Peter's skin when he drank like this.

"But...you've got all your definitions of relationships mixed up, huh, Pete? You make out with your friend. You make out with your brother. Oh, but wait! You also let your brother suck you off. Twice. Getting confused yet? I know the fuck I am."

Nathan wouldn't lie to himself: he operated under a double standard. He'd screwed around behind Heidi's back more than once; Peter had a point. On the other hand, Nathan was extremely possessive of his lovers. It didn't matter that Peter was his brother, because in the last four days, he'd become much more than that.

He didn't even let Peter get a word in, and kept going, his voice still laden with bitter sarcasm. "Oh, good tactic, Pete. Deflect the attention off of you for just one second. Let's talk about Heidi," Nathan said. "Do you think if I saw Heidi kissing another man I wouldn't act just--like--this?" He accented the last three words with three slams of his yet again empty glass down on the wooden end table, jostling the lamp.

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Planting his feet, Peter let Nathan finish what he needed to before he stabbed at the air with his forefinger in the direction of his brother's chest. "I am not your wife. You don't have a say over what I do and do not do."

It was vaguely reminiscent of his brother trying to put his foot down about Texas. This escapade hadn't worked then. It wouldn't work now.

"Damn it, Nathan. I am well aware of what we've done. But I am your brother. Nothing can come out of whatever it is you think this is!"

That made him pause. He was upset, tears filling his giant, doe-like eyes as he dropped his hand down to his side. What did Nathan want from him?

He wanted to ask that, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead he had to make snide, better than thou comments right back at Nathan's drunken ones.

"So is this the part where you hit me? Or track down Jack to hit him? You're an asshole, Nathan. It's just a kiss. God knows how many people you've fucked since you got here."

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

Nathan shook his head and pushed Peter's hand down; he was a lot more drunk now, and that accusingly pointed finger was annoying him.

"I may be jealous, but I'm not an asshole, Peter. And I'm not going to hit you. I am going to hit that bastard when I see him. Taking advantage of you, that's all he's trying to do.

"To answer your question, I've only fucked one person since I got here, and you want to know who I thought about the whole time? You. I wanted it to be you. How do you like that, Peter?"

That was why during their last encounter, when Peter was jerking him off, Nathan's imagination had run away with him and shown him those vivid images of them doing much, much more. He'd been walking through the Hub on his way to the archives and seen Eli Janus and his absolutely identical brother sitting on that infamous couch, and it triggered the memory. He'd slept with Eli, and imagined he was Peter. He'd been so hammered he'd completely blacked it out.

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"Am I suppose to be flattered?" Peter left his spot by the door and started to clean up after his brother. Glasses and bottles were cleared away, the former placed in the sink for washing and the rest in with the recycling. "Enlighten me, Nathan. Tell me how fucking someone else and wishing it was me makes it better. No. No, actually, tell me how suddenly knowing that you want to fuck me makes it better."

This revelation terrified him. It was one thing to kiss, to jerk each other off...that could be seen as experimentation. Or just poor judgment. Peter leaned against the sink and finally turned his eyes back towards his brother.

"You don't even care what I think or what I want. You haven't asked me. You just take and when I fight you, you make me feel guilty for it."

He slammed his hand into the counter before turning back towards Nathan. There were tears rolling down his cheeks by that point.

"How do you want me to be taking this, Nathan? Do I fling my arms around your neck and thank my lucky stars that my brother has these....thoughts...about me?" His voice cracked.

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Jack resisted the urge to quip that he was Captain Harkness, but for a man as pretty as Nathan, he'd make an exception, just this once. He realized his normally well-timed flirtations would probably not go over well with the other man.

"I'll leave," Jack said quietly. He really didn't feel like a fight tonight. The one punch he'd gotten in had been satisfying, but if it continued, this would only end badly.

Jack was so tired of fighting. He just wanted to curl up in a ball and never feel again...

It wasn't a bad idea, now that he thought about it. If he killed himself in a particularly nasty way, he'd stay dead for hours, and wouldn't have to deal with the rest of the world, as fucked up as it was. He was tired of living, but he couldn't die. "You can come with me if you want," he offered to Peter, looking at him from underneath dark lashes. He knew the younger man would probably turn him down, but it was an option...

His alternative, no matter how appealing, was grim.

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Peter lived for other people. His entire birth had been planned from the start to give Nathan a jump in the polls, to give him an edge, to make him the figure head for the world. He didn't know that, of course, he had no idea about that plot against his life, but he had been living by the principal ever since.

His empathy stemmed directly for it.

Super strength the order of business, he shoved both men back. His brother fell into the couch, Jack into a wing-backed chair. He was not playing these games.

Stalking towards the man on the couch, Peter leaned over and jabbed his finger into his chest. "You're acting like a child, Nathan. I'm not a toy. If I want to kiss someone or let them bring me back to their bed, that's not for you to comment on with words or fists."

He turned on Jack, anger and pain dripping from his voice and collecting in his eyelashes.

"And you? The only thing you want is to be the center of someone's attention. I'm second best of your list. I thought we had a connection, but you only care to come looking for me when you can't find him.

"So. Fuck you both."

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

Nathan opened and closed his mouth, trying to think of something to fire back at Peter and his harsh words, but there was really nothing better than a decisive 'Fuck you'.

And God, for forty years old, he really was acting like a child, wasn't he? Peter was a grown man with his own thoughts, feelings and desires. Only, Peter experiencing those three things having to do with this version of Jack Harkness made Nathan insanely jealous. The way he felt about Peter was irrational. Part of it was his overprotectiveness of his little brother, ingrained into him from the age of twelve. But more of it was--Nathan still wasn't sure.

So he decided against saying anything for the moment and got up, holding his arms out in a gesture of peace when Peter glared at him. "Just going to the kitchen, Pete."

He retrieved a clean glass, poured himself and Jack three fingers of Scotch, and offered it to him in lieu of an apology.

He wouldn't apologize; he wasn't sorry. Even though he was now paying the consequences, Nathan had still gotten his point across.

[valiantchained.livejournal.com]

Jack stared at Peter for a moment, and nodded at Nathan, taking the Scotch. He really didn't needed to be drinking anymore, but he'd already acted like a much younger version of himself tonight anyway. Snogging someone simply because he could, punching someone because it made him feel better. For all his talk of turning over a new leaf, he'd certainly reverted.

"You're right," he finally said, after actually sipping the Scotch instead of downing it. It was probably expensive; he should appreciate that. "I do like you. But I'm an arse." He leaned against the wall, and wondered how long he should stay around.

They didn't exactly need him here anymore, and Peter was obviously pissed off at him. The American had really been his only friend, and he'd royally screwed it up.

He was just glad he had enough self-respect not to start crying.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

"You've had more than enough," Peter muttered, snatching Nathan's drink and downing it. He couldn't get drunk but that didn't mean that he couldn't try! Nathan was already long gone and though Peter could probably heal up his liver damage with another of those entirely too morbid kisses, he was not going to give in this time.

Even if the other two were playing nicely.

"And yes. Yes you're an ass," Peter agreed, slumping into the couch. He needed a shower, but he didn't care a lick if he got grime and blood and muck all over the couches.

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Nathan shook his head as he watched Peter toss back the drink he'd poured for himself. "That was going be my last one," he grumbled. He didn't really need it, and he knew Peter was just looking out for him, so he didn't protest further.

His stomach ached from the hard punch delivered by Jack, and now that his anger was momentarily sated, he just wanted to lie down with Peter's soft, warm body next to him, hold him close, and sleep it off.

No, instead he had Peter's would-be boyfriend sitting in the chair across from their place on the couch, looking extremely rumpled and either reflective, or just pissed off.

Jack probably wants the same thing, I bet, the jealous part of Nathan insisted.

And of course, both of them were getting blood and dirt all over the furniture and the carpet. Now wasn't this a happy get-together?

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He took a deep breath and pushed off the chair, setting his glass on a nearby table. For a man who'd died twice that day, he looked remarkably healthy, his dark hair mussed from trying to clean out the sticky blood. He ran his hand through his hair again, causing the ends to stick up even more, and glancing between the two of them.

He didn't need to be here. He was depressed, and neither of these two needed more drama in their lives. It was obvious they'd already had plenty without his help, and he was only creating more.

Besides, he had a plan. He'd died a thousand times, and he'd die a million more, but every time he died, he went into the darkness and it was quiet. Silence. He needed that now, needed a place where he didn't think and he didn't feel. It would have to be particularly nasty for him to stay any period of time, but whenever he woke up he just felt alive. He wanted to feel alive.

So he had to die.

He nodded to Peter then. "I'll leave you two alone. Better be getting back to my flat, sober up," he put his hands in his pockets and glanced around again, before staring pointedly at the door, trying to reign in his emotions. "He left again." His tone was flat, as though he didn't feel anything or think anything of Ianto leaving.

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

Nathan sat at the kitchen table with his actual last drink for the evening, sitting there in only his boxer shorts, water dripping down his neck and back. He heard Peter get out of the shower, and then the bedroom door closing.

Sleep...that was what he'd wanted to do since the altercation had ended and his adrenaline faded. The last drink sat unfinished on the table, and he'd actually nodded off sitting up. He'd stumbled into the bedroom, eyes still half-closed, and thrown himself in the bed when he realized it: he was alone. Peter wasn't here!

"Peter?" he called out, wondering where he'd gone. He hadn't left the apartment, because he saw Peter's keys on the nightstand.

Nathan dragged himself back to his feet and went out into the living room.

Oh. There he was.

Buried under that lump of pillows and blankets on the couch Nathan had drunkenly staggered right past.

He st down right next to the lump where he was sure Peter's head would be, and he pulled the blanket away from his brother's tight grip on it.

"Hey. Come to bed, Pete," he said, almost pleading, as he stroked his hand over Peter's wet head. Peter didn't answer right away, and if he didn't know better, he'd have thought he was sleeping.

Nathan scooted closer a bit more, until he could get close enough to press his lips to his brother's forehead.

"Are you really going to be mad at me forever?"

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"I'm...not mad at you." Peter felt as if he was six years old again, hiding under Nathan's blankets and ruining any and all plans of his brother jerking off for the night because he wanted to stay with him. Peter use to had nightmares all the time, but only on the nights Nathan was at home, the nights he could get away with sleeping in his brother's bed. "I just don't trust you."

That was probably the worst thing in the world he might have said, only because his brother relied on his unwavering affection when the rest of them turned against him.

Peter put a hand on Nathan's hand.

"I told you to stay out of the shower and you didn't listen. I still can't figure out why the hell you punched Jack, though he's never going to speak to me again."

And rightfully so, damn it! Jack was just using him.

"If I go back to bed with you, it will turn into something that we will go to Hell for."

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

Nathan's heart ached to hear that Peter didn't trust him. But how could he blame him, really? He was right. The two of them could no longer be in the same bed together without wanting to give into desires that they both shared, evidently. It couldn't go on.

"I hit Jack because I was jealous. But not only that. I didn't want him to use you or hurt you. I love you, Peter, the way I always have, and now, in a new way that scares me just as much as it does you. I know it does."

Nathan gently stroked his fingertips over Peter's hair as he continued. "I'll never touch you like that again, if you don't want me to. I virtually forced you into it. I don't want you to be scared of me, or angry with me.

"I'm your brother, and it's time I started acting like it. So stay out here if you like, or come to bed. I'm not going to make you do something you don't want to do, all right?"

He leaned in to give him one more kiss, this time on the cheek, before he whispered, "Good night, Peter."

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Peter couldn't sleep. He couldn't move. He had trouble breathing at once point. Everything ached in ways that weren't normal. Pressing his fingertips into the corners of his eyes, Peter tried to calm down. He used breathing techniques he once did to center himself before a fight, or when his powers were going haywire.

He groaned. He tossed himself onto his back. He tried to listen for Nathan, and then for the water running in one of the other apartments.

It was too quiet. He had gotten use to sleeping beside someone in the week he'd spent here with his brother that was not his brother.

Two hours later and Peter crept into Nathan's bed. He was aware of doing this, but he'd lie and say he slept walked if anyone pressed him.

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Usually Nathan had no trouble sleeping when he'd drank so much, but there was always an exception to the rule. He tossed and turned, tangling himself up in the blankets, every time he woke up hoping that Peter would be there. He wasn't.

He wasn't able to find a comfortable position by himself in that huge bed, without Peter next to him cuddling up to him, elbowing him and then stealing all the blankets.

He'd just awakened and nodded off for what seemed like the tenth time when he turned and felt Peter's solid warmth next to him.

"There you are," he murmured sleepily, pulling him close and wrapping his arms around him, pressing Peter's head against his chest. He took a deep breath, his nose filling with his brother's clean soapy scent.

"Mmm...I missed you. I knew you couldn't stay away."

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Peter laughed and cursed himself silently for giving himself away. "Yeah, well," he said as an answer and headbutted his brother very lightly as he felt his fingers slip into his hair. Nathan was warm. So very very warm. He felt good to lay against, even though he was secretly glad he'd pulled on a shirt. Too much skin contact would lead to something he wasn't ready for. At least, that's what he thought.

One hand pressed to the small of Nathan's back and the other was curled up between them, knuckles lightly pressed into Nathan's warm skin.

"Where else could I go, anyway?"

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Don't answer that, Nathan commanded silently to himself. There was definitely somewhere else Peter could go, like Jack's bed, for instance?

Or maybe not, after tonight. Jack Harkness was probably going to be keeping his distance from the Petrelli brothers after one had decked him in the face and the other had told him to go fuck himself. There was always a chance they could make up, though...Peter was usually quick to forgive. Thank God for that, because Nathan couldn't stand Peter being upset with him. But then...

Stop worrying about it!

"Oh, so you're just here 'cause the couch isn't as comfortable as this huge bed, huh?" he teased, laughing softly. He closed his eyes, intending to go back to sleep, but he was too awake now. Just the contact of Peter's hands on his bare skin made his skin tingle, and caused his heart to beat a little faster. But Nathan would not go back on his word. He would control himself, even if it killed him.

"Well, fine, I guess you can use me as a pillow. I'm used to it by now."

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There Peter went, right on his back, right where Nathan had wanted him from the start. A little patience goes a long way...

He sat back on his heels for a moment, hands on his thighs, eyes roaming over Peter's slender body, writhing and squirming from all the stimulation.

He had to go find something to use; Peter had never done anything like what he was planning next. He couldn't pass it up, not when he had Peter at his every whim.

Nathan's gaze stopped on Peter's dark and glistening shaft, knowing just how to keep Peter occupied while he was gone. He took Peter's hand and nodded downward. "Give me a show, Peter," he coaxed gently. "Let me see you touch yourself."

Peter wrapped his hand obediently around himself, and when he started to stroke, Nathan lowered his head and sucked briefly at the head to give him a little incentive. Peter's eyes closed and he whimpered a bit more, and Nathan crept into his private bathroom, hoping there'd be something useful.

"Really beautiful, Pete, just perfect," he said, keeping one eye on Peter while he rummaged around. Nathan swore he'd kiss Ianto next time he saw him, when he found the small bottle tucked in the back of the medicine cabinet. Well, maybe not, since he was engaged. No matter. Peter was all he was concerned with right now.

Nathan picked up right where he left off, tongue lapping at Peter's cock, surreptitiously slipping his hand back down there again, wondering if Peter noticed the difference the lubrication made.

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The only thing that Peter noticed was euphoria. It was a damned shame that his mind blanked when his brother's mouth was paving the road to hell in blowjobs, but such was life. Bliss surrounded him even as Nathan probbed again around his anus and Peter wriggled a little at the tickling discomfort of not enough attention paid to his cock.

Nathan didn't seem to request for him to jerk him off, and that suited Peter just fine. He could sink into the mattress and spend a few minutes basking in how amazingly talented Nathan could be.

His toes curled when he felt the breech for the first time, an entire finger inside of him before he reacted.

"Nathan, don't," he grumbled only to have Nathan flick his tongue around the slit on the head.

Good fucking Christ.

No one should be that damned talented!

"Nathan--" That second push was just a little too much and Peter's discomfort levels tripled. "N-Nathan..!"

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

Nathan tried to be as gentle and slow as possible, but Jesus Christ, he was tight, even with Nathan's entire hand dripping with the slippery fluid. His forehead broke out in a sweat as he concentrated on getting his finger fully inside of him, and he could feel Peter's muscles tensing at the intrusion. His heart fluttered wildly in his chest and his breath caught in his throat when Peter started to protest; he last thing he wanted was to hurt him. There was only a thin line between discomfort and pain, and he didn't want Peter's fear to push him over to the wrong side of it.

He recalled the first time he himself had been in Peter's place. His partner had been nowhere near as gentle, but once he'd gotten used to it, he'd been fine. Then he'd been in near ecstasy.

Cuddling his brother against his shoulder with his free hand, kissing his cheek, he said softly,"Shh, Peter, listen to me. Take a couple of deep breaths and relax. I'm not going to move until you tell me to. This does feel good. I know firsthand, okay?"

Nathan wasn't exactly telling the truth; he was absolutely going to feel around inside him for that place in him that would change everything. Anticipation gripped him even while he drew on his intense patience; Peter wouldn't be able to help but let him know when he found it.