A Long Trip Home

[chimeramimicry]

The door is two yards away but I can't move from the top of the stairs.  It's been months, four or so, since I've been here, in this spot.  Gone were the days of trudging up the stairs with my satchel on the way home from work because my building's landlords refused to fix the elevators properly.  Gone too was the pleasure I had of returning to this apartment I paid for with my own money and not from my trust fund.  I donated all of that to charity the moment I turned twenty-five and finished paying off my loans to school.  It was two years ago.  It feels like forever.

I'm not the same man I had been.  I'm not a child anymore.  At least, I want to think that.

I'm still clutching the photograph of my brother and I in our tuxedos.  There's a smudge on it from my thumb and full of creases.  I've not let it go since I opened that box containing everything that I am.  Everything I was.  I left Ireland without looking back.  There was, there is only one thing on my mind.  Nathan.

Nathan.

Nathan.

I know he's here.  I've always felt a connection to him.  Mohinder Suresh called it part of my empathy, to feel things like that.  Funny to be so empathically linked to someone I spent my whole life pining for, who has always had a life to live without me.  He's never had time for me.  Never.

"Just walk, Peter," I whisper to myself as I move to a door I have not touched in a long time.  I swallow.  And knock.  I know he's in here without knowing it.  I almost lose the nerve to knock.  Please answer, Nathan.  Please.

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[crashgirl82.livejournal.com]

His words, though softly spoken, slam me like a punch in the chest, and they echo, banging around in my head. My heart races faster, and my stomach twists on itself.

He's telling me no?

I can't fucking believe it. Peter led me on, let me lay next to him and touch him, and now he has the nerve to deny me?

I'm definitely not drunk anymore, but I don't feel sick either.

All I can feel now is anger, rushing in my veins, alongside the absolute need I have for him, to make him completely mine. There's no turning back now.

"What did you say?" I hiss, pulling Peter onto his back and straddling him in one swift motion. "Molest you? Is that what you're calling it now?"

I don't even care if he answers me or not. It's too late for that.

Before he can react I take him roughly by his slender wrists and bear my full weight down on him. I know he can feel how hard I am, because my cock is pressed against his bare stomach. The contact makes me gasp involuntarily, and I instantly roll my hips down into his stomach, letting him know truly now what I want. I look straight into his eyes, those eyes that are the same color as mine, and I can't help but smile. I can't read him right now.

I hear his words again inside my head, and though I'm burning with anger, there is a dull ache in my chest, because I find myself wondering if I ever really knew my brother at all.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

"I was joking, Na--" I'm not able to get anything else out. I am far stronger than my brother, but to prove that, I will have to hurt him. I've spent months not knowing who I am. He has spent months believing I was dead and trashing my apartment.

I don't know what he wants, what he really wants. Sure, I'm begining to guess -- it's hard not to with my brother's erection pressing against my stomach -- but I simply can't believe he'd do this.

My heart is beating so loudly in my ears that I can't hear myself think. I am unable to ask the question most on my mind. Why?

He's hurting me. Bruising me. I can feel that he wants to do so much more than that. There are tears in my eyes, but I am not fighting him. I wanted his love, his true love, for as long as I could remember.

I was a child when I first wanted him, I'm a child even now, turning my face up to his when he kisses my slack lips. I'd give Nathan anything. Just not this. He'll hate himself...and he'll hate me...the moment this is over.

"Stop it, Nathan." I'll beg him next if I have to.

[crashgirl82.livejournal.com]

I can hear something in his voice when he says my name, but I can't figure it out. I want him so badly, and I'm not thinking straight. When the anger subsides a bit, I try to understand what it is, why he's telling me to stop.

I'm pretty sure it isn't fear. He's not afraid of me, nor I of him, though I haven't forgotten that he could physically injure me with just a thought. I'm holding him much too tightly, and I'm hurting him, but I can't let him go. He needs to know he's finally getting what he wanted when he was just a kid, when I wasn't able to give it to him.

I open my eyes and I look at his face again, and maybe it's a trick of the dim lighting, but he looks just as he did when he was barely sixteen years old, during the height of his flirtation with me, his need to be with me.

Peter always sat much too close, always held my hand when Mom and Dad weren't paying attention, and the only way to keep it under control then was to push him away. It was damn near impossible.

I remember clearly one specific night--the night it got to me. I was with Heidi, her legs wrapped around my waist, her fingernails buried into my shoulders, and all I could think of was how much I wished she were Peter. After she fell asleep, I surprised myself--I cried, for the first time since I was Peter's age myself, desperately hoping she wouldn't hear me.

With that memory, I realize what I heard in Peter's voice. It is fear, but not fear that I'll hurt him physically. He's afraid that this will break us apart. He knows he wanted it once, and he just thinks he doesn't want it anymore.

This won't break us. No. This will bring us even closer. I have to make him understand.

"Peter, it's what you wanted," I sigh, and my voice is weaker than I intended. "Don't you remember?"

I lean down to kiss him again. Peter's mouth opens instantly, he's not fighting me as I run my tongue along his teeth, then against his tongue, tasting every part of him. God, he tastes so sweet, forbidden fruit I was never meant to taste, and I only want more.

Once I'm sure he'll stay, I release his wrists and I shift my body down on his, until our hips are pressed flush against each other's. He's not hard, and I don't expect him to be. Not yet.

"I love you," I murmur, as my hands slide down the smooth plane of his chest, down to the waistband of his pajamas.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Love has nothing to do with any of it, I'm certain of that. My weakness is Nathan and his has always been me too. We're connected. I've felt when every major pain in his life has happened as if I was with him. He's just so rarely left me stay by his side for so long.

Who cares if this is what I want? I listen to his words as he plainly states that he knew about my infatuation from the start. It's another mindgame ala Nathan Petrelli, the king of all mindgames. Sometimes I think I should hate him for what he's done to me, to our family, to us.

"Nathan," I breath once my lips are free to speak again. A kiss is one thing. I could sink into our mutual sin easier if that's all he wanted. But he doesn't.

My desire for my older brother was never sexual in nature. It was never something I wanted to get this far. I just-- I wanted him near me. And look what we've become?

"You have to stop--" He kisses me again and I feel myself drifting upwards. If he doesn't hold me down, I'll float away. "You have to--" Kiss me harder. It's his hand on my waistband that finally gets me.

My other fear rises up. I've only been with women. What can he expect from me.

[crashgirl82.livejournal.com]

My hand hesitates at his waistband, because he's still telling me to stop, even while he's kissing me back, even while his body presses up into mine ever so slightly. He has to make a decision: either he wants me or he doesn't. He wants this, or he doesn't.

Looking down at my brother's face now, I can almost see the struggle going on in his mind. As I slide the pajamas off his trembling body, I marvel at how easy it always was to make anyone want me. A man, a woman, it never mattered, all that ever mattered was that I got what I wanted.

With that thought, I'm sure Peter has never been with a man before. First time for everything, I think, dropping the clothing over the side of the bed.

It doesn't matter, though. I want my brother, and he wants me, but he's not making it easy. I trace my fingers down his stomach, my eyes never leaving his. I won't look away from his face until he's fully given himself to me.

"Make me. Make me stop, Peter."

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

I can't breathe, not when his mouth is inches from mine and we're both naked. We're naked. I think I'm going to pass out. No, change that. I'm really going to pass out. My hand fists in his hair, but I'm not trying to pull him away. I'm afraid. I can feel myself trembling.

It's been months for him and years for me. He's spent my entire life pushing me away and I have no idea why now, all of a sudden, he wants so much more of me.

"We should talk," I murmur when it becomes clear that I'm not going to push my brother away. "I... You know I love you, Nathan, but this--"

It's not just a big step. It's wrong. It's wrong and all I want him to do is kiss me even as tears roll down my cheeks.

[crashgirl82.livejournal.com]

He's crying now, and I can taste his tears as I kiss him harder. I'm frustrated with his reluctance, and I have a sudden urge to slap him.

But that won't make him give in. He needs something more than that. Words aren't working. He needs sensation.

Finally I look his body up and down, and God, he's beautiful. All white skin, perfect lines. My cock is aching now, but I know he won't touch me, not until he's ready, and right now, he's not, and the way he's crying, I don't know if he will be.

"No. No talking," I whisper, trailing my last kiss over his chin, down his neck. His body tenses, almost seizes as I push up off of him and move back on the bed.

He's never been with a man, but I'm sure he's had a woman do what I plan to do next.

I press my hands down into his chest, not restraining him, just bracing myself as I lower my head to his belly. Then I place a line of gentle kisses over his hipbone, down his thigh, then back up.

I wonder if Peter knows what I'm about to do, as I feel the anticipation knot in the pit of my stomach.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

There are some serious problems with what I'm letting Nathan do. I was never prepared for this moment, not even in my naughtiest wet dreams. Not even when I was at the height of my obsession with my brother. But that passed, I was sure of it.

"Nathan--" The next time I say his name it's with a gasp and I prop myself up on my elbows to watch him quite literally devour me.

I'm dreaming. Or if not, than I'm having a nightmare. My God, there's absolutely no way I want to wake up from this at the moment. I lift my hips into my brother's lips. My brother.

"N-Nathan..." I need him.

[crashgirl82.livejournal.com]

I knew this would do it. He's getting there now, almost fully hard as I slide my lips up and down, my tongue flicking back and forth over the sensitive place beneath the head. I glance over at him, and he's halfway sitting, watching me suck him off, his eyes wide, his mouth half-open.

The part of me that always fought against this can't believe I'm doing this. But it's really happening, and God, it's something I wanted for so long. And I knew he did too. He just had to be convinced.

I pull away long enough to give him a little smirk, as if to say, I told you you wanted me.

Then I bury my face back into his dark curls, breathing in the scent of him, taking as much of him as I can into my mouth, which is almost all of him. He's fully hard now, and I'm pretty impressed; he's almost as big as I am. That ridiculous thought makes me laugh, while my mouth is still closed around his cock.

Peter emits a low, almost guttural sound, and I wonder how much longer I can do this without wanting some kind of stimulation. Other than my insistent grinding against his leg as I do this to him.

He says my name, and I almost stop, surprised at the pleading sound of his voice. I want to hear him say it again.

The waiting is almost impossible, but I force myself to. I can't rush him, now that I'm finally winning.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

It's really my hands that tangle in the lengths of curls I left on his head, but I can't believe I would do such a thing. The closet door beside the bed is mirrors and when I can no longer stand to gaze down at what my brother is making me feel, I watch our reflection. It's unreal.

Every sensation is another nail in this coffin. I pull at Nathan's hair just before it's too late and crush my lips to his. I don't care if I've taken quite a bit of his hair with my fingers, ripped right out of his poor, foolish head.

We're together a moment later, tumbling on the sheets. He's going to expect something from me. Nathan never does anything without getting his fair share. I groan against his mouth, sucking the taste of myself from his tongue. This is enough to send me soaring. I'm afraid to know what else might happen.

[crashgirl82.livejournal.com]

Nothing would have made me happier than for my little brother to lose it all, right in my mouth. Just the thought of that sends a fresh shot of adrenaline into my blood.

But then it would be over before it really starts, and I think he knows it just as well as I do. I allow him to pull me up to him, and he kisses me with crushing force.

"Please, Peter," I'm saying over and over, between open-mouthed kisses. My mouth is full of the taste of him, my brother, it's all I know, the feel of his flesh beneath my hands as I grab any place on him I can reach. I feel his hands on me too, although a little less frantic.

I don't even think about it as I grip his wrist and jerk his hand downward. "Please."

His hand is cold against the heat of my skin, and I don't think I've wanted anything more in my entire life. "Please."

I never thought I'd be begging him.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

I don't really know what to do, but it can't be all that difficult, I decide. I've been doing this to myself for years. I hesitate even so. I can feel Nathan's pressing need and I'm becoming so wrapped up in it that I can't think straight.

I actually laugh against his lips at my own thought pattern. There's weird emotions rolling around between my ears, everything from fear to lust, love to distrust, sadness to elation.

My fingers wrap around my brother, but that's where I pause. I look up into his eyes and the world ends for a moment. My heart is cracked.

"If...If I do this, will you love me?"

[crashgirl82.livejournal.com]

A strangled sound leaves my throat after I hear his words, and I almost want to push him away, stop him from corrupting himself, from dragging him down with me in this madness.

But his touch is something I'd never thought I'd feel in my lifetime, and I'm too close to making him mine forever. I'm too selfish to stop him.

I've brought him this far, but it's ultimately his decision.

"I'll love you even if you don't," I whisper, "I'd love you no matter what." That's the truth, and I hope he knows it, because I've known it his whole life.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

My arms around him are my stability. My breath against his neck is my reality. I close my eyes, my head touching his bare shoulder. It's not actually a jerk off he wants. Not with the way he was pressing against my stomach a few moments before, not with the way he was sucking on my.... Holy Christ, what the hell was going to happen to us?

I lift my head, and my eyes, towards Nathan. My gaze strokes along his cheek and against the curve of his lips. I kiss him again, the fingers that had been around his cock now touching his lower lip.

"Do you...do you want to...?" If it's going to be this, it's just got to be more. No half assing it.

[crashgirl82.livejournal.com]

I see the turnaround in those beautiful dark eyes, and I know he's made his mind up. He isn't really asking me if I want to. He's telling me he wants to.

I give him a slight nod, the reassurance I know Peter needs from me right now. I take his hand, the one that's caressing my face, and I kiss his wrist. I push his hands down away from me, and then lace my fingers into his, lead him to his bed, each step we take bringing us closer to a place where brothers should never be.

The ironic thing about all of this is that we've traded places. Peter no longer seems afraid, and I can feel panic rising in me, a tidal wave threatening to swallow me. There's no way I'm letting him know that, of course.

My brother's never done this before. I don't need him to tell me that. I just know.

I have to be gentle and careful. I don't want this to hurt him in any way, not emotionally, not physically.

Peter seems to know what I want him to do; we haven't spoken at all since he asked his question.

I push him down on his stomach, and I just run my hands over his body, to relieve some of the tension I know he's feeling. I press my fingers into the muscles of his shoulders and back, slowly descending to massage the base of his spine, and finally, I cup my hands around his buttocks, just briefly.

I work my way up his body and back again, memorizing every birthmark on his skin, every curve of the muscles beneath, trying to get the courage to take the next step.

Christ, we don't have anything. We're in Peter's apartment; there's no reason for him to have anything for that type of use here. I'm probably going to have to improvise.

"You okay?" I ask, while I work the last of the tightness from Peter's body.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

I'm almost asleep. Considering how worked up I was only a few moments ago, I really can't believe just how relaxed he's made my feel. I groan, but it's not in pain, lifting my head to gaze over my shoulder at him through half lidded eyes. I want to say that i feel perfect, but that's more of his line. I know I'm nothing like being perfect. I might have powers, amazing abilities, but they are nothing compared to what I want to share with Nathan.

So, instead, I simply nod, smiling. My head hurts from the tears. From everything I've been through this afternoon.

It's absolutely ridiculous how young he's making me feel. I'm twenty-seven years old, not a child anymore, but that's what I feel right now. Nathan can care for me. Finally. It's what I've always wanted.

"Are...are you all right, Nathan?"

I can't believe where his hands have been today. I can't believe what I've survived for all of these years without. I want to kiss him. Badly. Is that a terrible thing?