It's Called Being a Hero

[chimeramimicry]

"It's Called Being a Hero"
Who: Peter, Peter, Nathan
When: After some weird selfcest.


The knock on the door made Peter blink as he tilted away from the open refrigerator door.  Who the hell came for a visit without calling first?  Delivery guys.  Huh.  Did his new Superman resin kit arrive already?  He didn't get the confirmation email or--  Well, whatever.  He's just glad that it came up to his door instead of being left at the mailboxes like usual.  Jeez, he had more stuff swiped that way.

"Hang on."  Slam goes the door.  Milk in hand, and wearing only his boxers, Peter and his rumpled hair go to answer the door.

He's not expecting Nathan.

The deer in headlights look gives that away.

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[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

He's a little late. It had been really hard to leave Peter. Each kiss, even sober and tired and a little on edge because of Nathan's presence, has him really wanting just to remain at his apartment. But he can't. He has obligations. And he can't help but wonder if there's going to be just an empty bedroom to return to later.

Not even thinking of the implications of it all, Peter arrives much more covered than the last time Nathan saw him and slides into the booth.

"Sorry, didn't mean for it to take so long."

He'd just gotten caught up in everything. Happens.

He grins, just a little, and fiddles with the menu. "What did you decide on?"

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

"No. I was beginning to think you made other plans," Nathan answers almost sarcastically, not meeting Peter's eyes, not amused at that crooked grin either. Now that he knows what put it there.

Nathan has kept himself occupied on a call with his campaign manager about some last minute appearances he intends to make to seal the deal on his bid for Congress, pacing himself on his brandy-spiked coffee, trying to push aside the revelation of the morning.

His brother's really got some nerve, keeping him waiting there for forty-five minutes. As if even Nathan's time off weren't that important. Of course, Peter never thinks about those things.

"Brunch is over," Nathan says matter-of-factly, perusing the menu, trying not to let his irritation ruin what little time he does get to spend with Peter.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Peter makes a face. He's only fifteen, maybe twenty minutes later than he said he'd be. Serves Nathan right! He'd been constantly late for everything Peter wanted to share with him growing up and Peter never once made it an issue. He rolls his eyes as if his brother is some great, important person. He's not. He probably will be one day but for now he's just a lawyer and his older brother, the guy he's been trying to emulate and caring for his entire life.

Even when he knows Nathan's mock him pretty badly if he ever knew how important he was to him.

"It's not even twelve. Brunch isn't over. Stop being a jerk." Because yeah, seriously, Nathan's just being a jerk now. He scowls lightly over at his older brother before it hits him. Something's wrong. It's like something too big has flown into the spider web of his empathy.

He almost barks at the waitress, and instead asks her for a decaf before sending her off with a worried look.

"What's it now?"

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

Nathan looks up from the menu, and blows out a hard breath. This is not the conversation he wants to have right here, right now. There's a time and place for everything.

"Nothing," he lies, smiling finally. "It's just the stress of these last few weeks. I've been on edge, jumping down everyone's throats. Heidi's about to make me sleep on the couch." It's a fake smile, and Peter's going to see right through it.

So Peter likes guys. What does that really change anyway? It's not as if his brother's sexual orientation is really any of Nathan's business anyway. Peter's chosen to keep it a secret for now. Not surprising. A lot of gay people do, to avoid trouble with friends or family. The way Nathan's dealing with it right now proves just that point.

"I'll have an egg white omelet with a side of bacon. Wheat toast with butter, too, please," he tells the waitress when she returns.

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Nathan's also got to be happy about that. He runs on a conservative, family forward platform. Gay rights usually doesn't strike very powerful cords with Nathan's typical constituents. It happens. Peter's not even sure if that's what's bothering the man. Stress is stress, true. He feels that it's something more, but he also wants to trust his older brother.

And there's only one way to do that -- buy the lies. For now at least.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" He order the pancake platter, which comes with eggs, sausage and way too much whipped cream. He'll likely eat it all.

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

Nathan thinks on that offer for a moment, stirring his coffee, the open, earnest expression on his brother's face setting his mind at ease.

There's no reason for this to bother him. Peter is no different than he's always been. He is doing well for himself, even if it's not in the career their parents expected of him. Nathan had been positive their father would disown him when he refused to go into the pre-law program and chose nursing instead.

He'd had his own set of expectations for Peter too. He'd always assumed his brother would eventually find a nice girl, get married, have children. But it seems that won't be the plan either. Is it really that surprising?

Most importantly, he's still Nathan's little brother. Nothing changes that.

"Yeah, there is," he answers finally, just as the waitress sets down their respective plates. Peter wastes no time shoving pancakes into his mouth, and Nathan just laughs.

"Just be you, Pete. You are my favorite brother, after all."

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

As the mood lifts, so does Peter's smile and he shakes his head. "I'm your only brother." And maybe that's why Peter constantly forgives and trusts Nathan too. They're all they have. And with Peter being so much younger than Nathan, he has quite the disconnect and quite the need to repair that. He doesn't want to be alone, not really.

Brunch with Nathan's nice. It's nothing at all formal, just the two of them and Nathan's ever present tie. It's like he's always eager or at least prepared for a photoshoot. Which really doesn't make sense in light of the Los Vegas thing, but oh well.

He's use to Nathan screwing him over.

"I'm gonna stop by Saturday to see the boys, all right?" he says at the end of the meal, eager actually to get back to his apartment.

[law-anddisorder.livejournal.com]

Nathan wipes his mouth with his napkin, hiding his frown. He'd been about to bring just that suggestion up right before Peter had mentioned it himself.

But not for next Saturday. For today. The children missed their uncle Peter, and had been letting him know it for the past month. He'd been putting it off for too long.

He recovers quickly and says, digging in his pocket for his Amex, "You sure you want to make them wait a whole week, Pete? I was hoping you'd want to come by today. They're nuts over this new video game they got, and Heidi's making those ricotta stuffed shells you like."

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Crap. Well, the choice is between Nathan and, technically, himself. So what's he suppose to do?  Pick Nathan of course. It's always Nathan. Always has and always will be. 

Peter's smile drops, he runs the back of his neck. And, ultimately, nods. 

"Uh, yeah. I'll come by for dinner." Which gives him a few more hours with Peter. 

The embrace with his brother is needlessly awkward when they part and Peter lingers on the street until Nathan's car shows up and pulls away again. He runs back into the shop to get breakfast or, lunch now, for the man hopefully waiting for him at his apartment. 

He's overly eager to please, and probably that's because of the guilt of it. 

The weirdness of it. 

And because Peter can't believe he's this  narcissistic. 

Hint taken. ^__^

[fallen-empath.livejournal.com]

Peter has spent the last hour and a half cleaning up an apartment that isn't even really his. He can't understand why he's even doing it. This isn't his place. It isn't his life, not anymore. He changed it all by coming here, interrupting the natural order of things. He should be home, sleeping in abandoned houses and helping the survivors struggle for their survival.

Even so, Peter showers and shaves, and then he strips the bed, remakes it, collects the dirty laundry. The empty bottles go in a recycling bag, and the pizza box gets torn up and tossed down the trash chute.

He even has a quick conversation with the nice old lady next door. She compliments him on his haircut, and it makes him want to cry.

He wishes he could harbor even a bit of jealousy over having watched his other self and his lost brother's awkward exchange, but he can't even do that. He likes him too much. Way too much. And that's why, when other Peter finally returns, he opens the door and gives him a big crushing hug. He's able to smell Nathan's cologne on his jacket, but he's quickly distracted by the delicious aroma coming from the bag in Peter's hand.

"You brought me food? You're the best!"

[chimeramimic.livejournal.com]

Grinning somewhat madly, Peter lingers in the hug and sits down on the sofa to watch himself eat. It's funny. His mannerisms and everything. They eat like they'll never get another scrap of food again. 

He taps his shoe on the floor and tangles his fingers in the sleeves of his shirt. He's a little fidgety. 

"Hey, how long are you staying?"

If anything, he wants the company. He wants to wake up with someone in his bed. He wants someone that likes the same thing he likes. And it's a bonus that they're sleepin together. 

Or had slept together. 

Shit. What's he suppose to do?