Chimera Mimic

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."

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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.

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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.

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"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.

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He left again.

Peter wished his had more to drink. This was just getting better and better. The sarcasm of his thoughts literally poured from his eyes as he slouched there, gazing up through thick, black lashes. at Jack. He was seething.

"He left again," he echoed, the tail end of his voice raising up in a question as he lifted his hands from the armrests and dropped them again. This was just rich. "So how is this reinforcing what you said about liking me? Un-fucking-believable!"

He stood up after that, putting his glass on the table.

"You know what, why don't you two stay here and I'll get out of here."

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Nathan watched the exchange between the two men, and was confused. Who had left again? Had he heard right, or was he just really a lot more inebriated than he'd originally thought? He supposed it was really none of his business, Peter and Jack talking about someone he didn't know. And when the hell had Peter become jealous of whoever that 'who' was overnight? He'd sworn up and down he was straight...but he clearly wanted something more than just friendship from Jack Harkness.

The sheer idiocy and childishness of all of this made Nathan's vision blur and his head hurt. Peter was a big boy, and he could do what he wanted. Even if he got himself hurt in the process. Nathan would still be there when Peter came to his senses.

"If anyone should leave, it's me. I'm gonna go sleep this off, with or without you," Nathan said to his brother as he stood, swaying slightly on his feet. "If you two decide you'd like to consummate your 'friendship', just do me a favor and keep it down," he snapped, turning towards his bedroom.

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"I...he..." Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. He was clearly too drunk to be dealing with emotional situations. All he wanted to do was pass out on the couch. He had no idea what to say to Peter because he had been an arse, and even though it was practically part of his nature to sleep with multiple people at the same time, and feel differently about every one of them, he realized 21st Century humans didn't understand that.

"Fuck," he muttered, running a nervous, upset hand through his hair. He didn't know what to say, but he felt like a complete bastard.

He was a complete bastard. For all he knew Ianto was visiting a friend...even though the mission had been important, and he didn't see Ianto skipping town during it. He was overreacting because the Welshman had left him once. He was a nervous, insecure wreck. One human being had done that to him, and it was completely pathetic.

"No, I'm gone. I'm sorry for bothering you. It was really uncalled for," he swayed slightly as he walked to to the door, putting one hand on the door frame as he tried hard to breathe slowly.

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"So we're all leaving then," Peter said, shaking his head. As much as he loved people, he absolutely hated them at the exact same time. He glowered on the couch, having no intention to move. He wasn't going to let his empathy make him feel sorry for Jack. And he wasn't going to go running after his brother either.

They treated him like a puppy. Neither was actually leaving, each was probably secretly hoping he'd call them back for a snuggle and make out session. And, evidently, both wanted to fuck him.

Well that was just great, wasn't it?

Just great.

Peter kicked his dirty boots up on the coffee table and let his head fall back against the couch as he pressed his hands over his face and grunted in frustration.

He needed to get rid of this sex power. It was driving him nuts.

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Nathan grinned a little drunkenly to himself once he heard Jack move for the door, fully expecting him to make himself scarce, but straightened his face before he turned back around and plopped down on the couch next to his brother. He'd just hopefully ended the chance of a relationship between Peter and Jack, but there was nothing remotely funny about what he was about to decide for the two of them.

Acting like a jealous asshole would just push Peter away, so it had to stop here. Nathan would rather have his brother and nothing else. He'd have to just deal with it somehow.

He patted Peter's thigh gently. "Hey. I'm sorry. Really, I am. I know it's a stretch, but just...forget what I said before. You're right. You're my brother, and whatever I think is happening between us? It's not."

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Jack rolled his eyes, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. He had absolutely no desire to see any of that. They'd make up, they'd be fine. He really didn't need to worry about either of them, and he didn't know why he was in the first place.

Part of his nature, he supposed. he was always worrying about other people these days. Probably why he was so miserable. Before, when he hadn't given a damn, he would have just fucked Peter and beat the shit out of Nathan. Sometimes he hated the Doctor for helping him develop a conscience.

He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, breathing out slowly. Why had he bothered to change? Because the Doctor rescued him from the bomb? He'd died for the Doctor then, when he left him behind. The Doctor admitted he purposely avoided Jack.

Because he was wrong.

Well, he couldn't deny the truth in that. He was wrong. He slid down the side of the wall and pulled the small flask out of his pocket. He took a sip out of it as he sat there, contemplating what he was going to do.

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Peter rolled his eyes at his brother and crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't try to play politician with me," he said more sharply than he had wanted to. "I'm going to take a shower and that is not an invitation." He had to say that just to make sure. Sometimes Nathan's mind went places that Peter could not even fathom.

Oh, it hurt his head.

He could literally feel Jack's pain out in the hallway, but he was not going to go to him. They had been friends, having the time of their lives -- well, Peter's life -- less than three hours ago. And now he was a second best fuck friend.

Oh no, Peter was not playing that game. He was not getting involved with people that loved other people.

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Nathan crept into the bathroom behind Peter once he saw Peter's bloodied, shredded clothes hit the floor and heard the water being turned on. If it hadn't been an invitation, then why hadn't Peter locked it? He'd even left the door open a crack!

And just like that, Nathan changed his mind once again. He was lying to himself if he thought this thing with Peter would just go away. He was getting hard just thinking about seeing his brother's naked, wet, glistening body under the hot spray.

Peter was most likely totally oblivious to it, but he was the man's version of beautiful. Nathan had thought that even before he'd had these illicit feelings for him. Maybe they'd always been there under the surface, just waiting to come out when the time was...right?

Nathan stripped down to nothing, trying to be as quiet as possible, but that thought caused a drunken laugh to burst from his lips.

He slipped into the shower, and looked covetously over his brother's soapy body. "Hi. Crashed the party, even though I wasn't invited," he said softly.

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Water in his eyes and ears, he didn't notice Nathan had arrived until he was there. Peter turned quickly, almost slipping and grabbed onto Nathan's arm and shoulder. "Jesus Christ, Nathan!" he shouted, bellies mere inches apart. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Peter was not frightened, he was just angry. He still had fight in him, he still had that very good night at the warehouse and the pub. Everything'd been fine till they got back on Torchwood property.

"You scared the shit out of me! Get out of here!"

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Nathan, still a bit drunk, did his best to steady his brother so he didn't fall, grabbing him by his forearms. He felt like berating himself just like Peter was right now, but he just kept quiet until Peter stopped yelling. Was Nathan an idiot? Considering his childish behavior towards Jack, had he really expected anything else from his brother? Five minutes ago he'd said there was nothing going on, and here he was naked in the shower with him.

What the hell is wrong with me?

He started to reach out to touch his face, but instantly thought better of it. "I just thought--never mind. I'll go. Please don't be angry with me, Peter."

Nathan enjoyed the spray of the water for a few seconds while he rinsed off the soap that Peter's slight stumble had flicked all over him, then pulled the shower curtain over so he could get out just as quickly as he had come.

Edited Date: 2010-06-28 02:30 am (UTC)

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