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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[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

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.

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

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."

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

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.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

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.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

"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.

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

Nathan took a shaky breath as he approached Peter again. God, he hated when Peter cried. He hated it even more when he ws the one who caused it.

Why the fuck did I tell him that? he agonized, suddenly sobered now by the immensity of his revelation. He'd just told his little brother he wanted to fuck him. That was just...inexcusable. And why? Because he was feeling spiteful? "Christ, Peter," Nathan started, setting his hands on Peter's shoulders carefully, not sure what Peter might do if he touched him, now that he'd gotten a glimpse of how absolutely twisted his older brother really was.

No, he hadn't asked Peter how he felt about any of this. He had just taken what he wanted, and Peter had fought him. The first time, that was. Who was the guilty one now?

These weren't just those tears that came out when Peter was frustrated, or sad, either. He was either disgusted, scared, or on the verge of hysteria.

He wondered ridiculously, in the midst of all this, if because of Peter's empathy, Nathan's emotions affected Peter's feelings directly. If he calmed down, maybe Peter would follow suit.

"I don't know how you should take it, Pete. Why don't you just...tell me. Tell me what you want." Even while he said the words, he feared it was a little too late.

[valiantchained.livejournal.com]

Jack had gone downstairs, pulled a bottle of bourbon out of the cabinet, and drank down half of it, thinking of Peter, and of Ianto. The Welshman had mysteriously disappeared again, without a trace. He'd pushed it off, assumed that Ianto needed space, especially with the coming werewolf take-down, but when he returned, he'd expected Ianto to be there, waiting and ready to make sure everyone was alright.

But he hadn't. Jack's stomach tied in knots, and he'd rather lost control of his hormones, furiously snogging Peter in the lift. He couldn't help it; the American was absolutely delicious with his dark hair and big eyes, and Jack was always energized after missions. Luckily, he'd controlled himself long enough for Peter to escape into his flat.

He stared at the empty bottle, his body more than pleasantly drunk, and his head humming with discontent.

Why had Ianto left? Was it him? Was he that fucking damaged that even Ianto couldn't stand to be around him? That's what he got, he supposed, for trying to be a person he wasn't. For trying to change himself.

He thought of Peter, upstairs, probably alone. They never finished their altercations. There was plenty of snogging, but neither of them ever got a release. He wanted to change that...

And even if Peter wasn't into anything sexual tonight, at least he'd have someone to talk to. He didn't want to be alone tonight. He'd died and risen again, and his mind was constantly thinking of his time on the Valiant. He couldn't rid himself of those memories.

With that in mind, he took the lift back upstairs, and knocked on the door to Peter's flat.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

"I don't know," Peter whispered, bowing his head as he left one hand rest on the edge of the sink. He couldn't bring himself to look at Nathan. He couldn't lift his face towards him. He couldn't breathe. What was he suppose to say past that? He was new to this. It was unspeakably wrong. He enjoyed his two sexual experiences with Nathan for the most part, but anything more than that made him feel ill.

He had no one to talk to now. No one to listen to his trouble with Nathan. No one to guide him.

"I want--"

The knock on the door startled him and he shook Nathan off to turn away. He ran the water in the sink and dabbed at his eyes with the L-bend of his hand, trying to steady his breathing. Great. Maybe it was that person Nathan had sex with while thinking about him.

Shut up, Petrelli.

It was a bad sign when he spoke to himself, even in his own head.

Peter wiped a hand down his face, unsure if he was glad for the interruption or not.

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

"God damn it!" Nathan sighed. He'd actually attempted to find out what was actually going on inside Peter's head, and someone was at his door. Who the hell could it be? Ianto? Jack, his boss? Couldn't they just pick up a phone?

Nathan rubbed Peter's shoulders soothingly. "I'll be right back, Pete."

He opened the door--and none other than Jack Harkness stood before him, looking just about as drunk as Nathan felt.

"You fucking son of a bitch."

The reaction was swift and immediate.

Nathan's arm came up, almost completely under its own volition, and his fist slammed right into Jack's jaw, sending a shock of pain up Nathan's arm and into his shoulder, both numbing and incredibly satisfying.

For just a moment, Nathan really hoped it wasn't his own boss stumbling back to the other side of the hallway. No...he had on the same clothes as the one with his filthy mouth and hands all over Peter not more than half an hour ago.

Jack was still standing there? Not in front of his fucking apartment, he wouldn't be.

Nathan lunged forward, his jealousy and his alcohol-fueled anger readying him for another swing.

[valiantchained.livejournal.com]

Jack had been in plenty of bar brawls. The fact was, he'd spent most of the late 1880s drunk and in pubs, getting the shit kicked out of him on a fairly regularly basis. So when Nathan punched him, he automatically steeled himself for the blow.

Despite that, it did hurt.

He stumbled back, holding his perfectly formed jaw, feeling the pain radiating across it. He tasted blood in his mouth from where his teeth cut into his lips. He licked his lips, cleaning out some of the bloody. His body was fairly numb from the alcohol, but now he was pissed in more than one meaning of the word.

Ianto had left him, and this man had the fucking audacity to punch him. He could only assume Peter had mentioned their session in the lift, and his brother felt the need to defend his honor.

When Nathan came in for a second swing, Jack's instincts kicked in, and he ducked, slamming his fist into Nathan's stomach. "Calm the fuck down!" he said, his voice taking on that tone he rarely used anymore. Ianto referred to it as his Captain's voice. "Nothing happened."

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

You fucking son of a bitch. This was going to end up a mess. He paused, listening for the sound of blows, and rolled his eyes. Brilliant. "Nathan!" Not all that long ago, Jack found Nathan and Peter beating the shit out of each other. The players had traded places now, but the scenario was the same. "Stop it!"

He had just said he'd punch Jack if he saw him again. Evidently he wasn't bluffing.

This is very fucking mature! Peter thought as he slipped his hands into his hair. "Damn it, stop!"

He could make them stop--

But maybe they needed a good brawl. Maybe Peter'd join in. Or maybe he'd just slam the door and let the assholes duke it out.

No, he couldn't do that.

"This is ridiculous! Stop it!"

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

Nathan staggered back, the punch to his stomach completely unexpected and almost debilitating. His next breath came in a gasp, and thanks to the adrenaline and the numbing effects of the alcohol, he recovered pretty quickly.

He pulled Jack into the apartment by the collar of his coat and slammed him up into the wall. "Nothing happened? I saw what happened! You had your goddamn tongue halfway down my brother's throat! What, did he need some of that 51st-century CPR again? Keep your fucking hands off him!"

He gripped Jack's collar for leverage and pushed himself back, ready to throw another punch. He could just vaguely hear Peter calling out to them and yelling at them to stop, over the blood rushing in his ears, the rage that nearly consumed him.

[valiantchained.livejournal.com]

"Your brother is an adult," Jack pointed out, his voice calm, even though his hands were shaking. He was trying desperately not to lash out at Nathan again. He understood why the other man was angry; Peter was his brother. There was more to it than that as well. He remembered the younger man telling him about his confusion with his brother.

"He can choose whether or not he wants me without your consent," he said, realizing that probably wasn't what Nathan wanted to hear, but he was too intoxicated to give a damn. He could feel the blood pounding in his ears; Jack did not like to be manhandled...well, only under special circumstances.

He glanced at Peter, blue eyes full of conflicting emotions: sadness, lust, anger, all combined in a haze of deep, piercing blue. He wanted the younger man, yes, but he also just wanted someone to talk to...someone who didn't know who he used to be.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

There he went, right off the deep end. Peter could see him make the swan dive and in his head, a little comic-version of himself was giving his brother a perfect 10 in form and posture. "Will you fucking stop already!?" Peter was going to have to get more hands on than he originally wanted to, even though whatever cologne Jack was wearing was starting to really get to him. His tongue actually itched, his lips tingled--

Another time. He could think of it later when his brother's white couch wasn't on the verge of being ruined.

"I'm right here! I'm twenty-seven years old and like I said before, Nathan, I'm not your damned wife!"

Before another punch could be thrown, Peter threw himself between the other two.

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

Nathan dropped his hands to his sides and sighed. Peter always liked to get in the middle of things, figuratively and literally. But it made sense, of course; he was the prize, and both Nathan and Jack wanted to win him. Or something to that effect.

But there was a difference here. Nathan loved him. Jack...who knew what his intentions were? His own boss was engaged for Christ's sake, and he flirted shamelessly. Nathan, who had acted that way himself even when he was married, knew what that usually meant.

"I never said you were, Peter. Now you have a choice to make," Nathan said, his voice lowering, trying to calm down. "You can move out of my way so I can escort Mr. Harkness right the fuck out of here, or I can move you myself. Whichever you choose is fine with me."