A Long Trip Home
Nov. 2nd, 2009 03:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chimeramimicryThe 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.
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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Date: 2009-12-14 11:54 pm (UTC)No wonder you're such a good father.
Don't try to make me love you more than I do.
All of those would have been excellent responses, but I can not manage to make myself open my mouth to say anything. My eyes close as his fingers brush my cheeks and I lean up into him to kiss his mouth with longing and desire. I can feel it coming from him too, washing over me like a wave as I part my lips and his tongue joins mine in my mouth.
I let him hold me up, my beautiful strength, and lift my arms to wrap around his neck. If I had my way, if we didn't need to be somewhere in the next half an hour, I'd ask him to take me to bed.
He can.
Tonight. And we can make up in my new favorite way. Just the thought of it is making me hard and I draw back, a light blush on my face as I gently kiss his neck.
"Nathan?"
He's silent for a moment, but I want to make sure he's listening to me. "Hm?" It's a non committal sort of sound followed by the typical, "yeah, Pete?" that now simply holds so much of my heart at the mere mention of my name.
"I want this." I'm talking about our relationship, such as it is. I know he has a wife. I know he has two little boys. I'd never ask to keep him here. He has a whole career stretched out before him. "Me and you. When...you can."
I'm not only asking him to continue to be my lover, but to cheat on his family.