Chimera Mimic

"Hey, Pete. You're looking bright and bushy-tailed on a Saturday morning," Nathan laughs, observing his brother in his half-naked, tousled state. He hands him a paper cup emblazoned with the Starbucks logo. He figured it'd be a nice gesture, since he hadn't made much time for his brother in a while.

"You've got a cell phone for a reason, you know. I've been trying to call you all morning." He snaps his fingers in front of Peter's face; is the kid sleepwalking or something?

"Well, are you gonna make me stand out here? It's even colder in your hallway than it is outside!"

He doesn't wait for Peter to answer, and he walks right in, surveying the mess that is his brother's apartment with a faint look of distaste. Not that it's really a surprise, though. There's an empty pizza box on the coffee table, along with nearly a twelve-pack of empty beer bottles to go with it, and dirty laundry all over the floor.

"Rough night?"

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"Uh, kinda, hey listen, I'm a little busy, man. Do you...need anything? Or I could get dressed real fast and we could get breakfast?" Because seriously, he does not need his brother here with his other self in his bed.

Even if he can shapeshift and look like some hot to trot woman... Nathan'd probably just crawl into bed with him too. Peter's trying to make this seem all nonchalant but that never works. He's not so good at lying. Poker face was not coined because of him.

So, when Nathan insists on coming inside, well what's he to do? Hide behind his Starbucks? Hope that his 'guest' doesn't totter out of the shower naked?

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"Breakfast? It's eleven o'clock," Nathan says, flashing Peter the dial of his watch.

"Yeah, put some clothes on, will you? You're making me feel overdressed," he then jokes, parking himself on the couch and fumbling through the mess on the table for the remote. "I can wait, as long as you've paid your cable bill. If you move your ass, we can make it for brunch."

Nathan can't help but notice Peter's eyes darting toward the partially open bedroom door, and that's when it occurs to him, why Peter looks mildly panicked. His little brother finally took some time out from his busy schedule for a long overdue piece of tail, and she must have stayed the night. Well, good for him!

He gives Peter a knowing smile. "Congratulations, Pete, you're a man now," Nathan says, low enough so that only Peter can hear him.

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First thing to say? 'Fuck you, Nathan!' But he decides to just play it up. Grin a little. Shrug like it's nothing. "Why don't I just meet you somewhere then?"

He still hasn't even tasted the coffee, it's just gone down his throat as a precaution because, damn it, he can't be distracted and he can't look that uncomfortable. Now that he's definitely alluded to having sex...

Oh God, this could be a disaster!

Peter sets down his cup and shoos Nathan back to the door.

"Meet you in about...half an hour? That little place on the corner?"

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"All right, all right, I'm going. Next time, when you two are decent, I want to meet her," Nathan says, letting his brother drag him to the door. "If she's not a one-night stand, that is."

Nathan is grinning like an idiot now at Peter's obvious embarrassment, even as Peter smiles and nods like it's nothing. Ever since he can remember, Nathan has always taken pleasure in teasing Peter whenever possible. What are big brothers for, anyway?

But as Nathan pulls the door open, he catches movement out of the corner of his eye, and he takes a cursory glance at his brother's bedroom door to catch a quick glimpse of someone peeking out at them. Someone who is clearly not a woman.

Nathan just shuts the door without another word, leaves the apartment building, and goes out into that blustery October morning once again, trying not to think about the fact that he was right all along about his brother, ever since the mishap at the 'strip club'.

He's still thinking about it in the booth at the cafe, as he orders himself a coffee. With a shot of brandy.

Edited Date: 2011-11-23 02:25 am (UTC)

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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?"

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"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.

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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?"

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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.

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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.

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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."

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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.

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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."

Edited Date: 2011-11-23 01:48 pm (UTC)

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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.

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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!"

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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?

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Peter can feel all those things that the other is thinking at the moment, but he gives no outward indication of that while he munches on his French fries and his bacon cheeseburger as if he's never seen food in his life. Claire's healing ability has the unfortunate side effect of skyrocketing his metabolism. Not that it was ever slow to begin with.

So when his other self asks that question, Peter knew it was coming long before he even spoke the words. But he still doesn't have a definite answer.

"I -- um -- I'm not sure," he stammers, buying himself some time by licking the grease from his fingers, washing it down with the last cold beer from the fridge. "I do have to go back eventually, you know, see if it worked?"

He's referring to his change to the timeline. What he doesn't share is that during the night, he had one of those dreams he inherited from his mother. From the images of the dream, Peter supposed it hadn't. But he couldn't be sure until he went home.

"Besides, I know Nathan doesn't just stop by unannounced if there's not some ulterior motive involved. He wants to spend some time with you. That's a good thing, you know."

Treasure every minute you get to spend with him, Peter thinks quietly, leaning over to give his younger self a kiss on the cheek. Even if his younger self is never involved with Nathan the way he himself was, his loss is sure to hurt just as much. The thought makes his chest ache.

Maybe he really ought to just stay here until the danger passes. He can keep Peter company, and Nathan will be twice as safe with two of his brother around, right? Besides, the food here is way better.

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Right. Of course he has to go. Soon. Peter's not too fond of these strings of one night stands he has been having. He gets up from the sofa and heads into the bathroom, returning with the clippers a moment later.

"I need your hair cut," he says finally. "That way Nathan won't freak out when I don't have long hair the next time I see him."

Peter can likely just give himself longer hair, but he let's that go. He wants the extraneous touching.

And when Peter just gives him a confused face he knows so well, the younger version laughs. "Heidi is making stuffed shells. You're going to dinner."

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"What? No way!" Peter exclaims, staring at the clippers that his younger self thrusts into his hands. "I can't cut hair to save my life..." That's no excuse. You snap the plastic length guides on and it's virtually impossible to screw it up.

His real objection is that he doesn't want to. Missing his brother is hard enough, but to have to sit with him at dinner and not give himself away, or make Nathan suspicious? Or uncomfortable even?

But he understands why his younger self is insisting on it. Their empathy is a two-way street. No one knows better than himself just how much he misses Nathan. If his plan really has failed and Peter is destined to live life without his brother, then his younger self wants him to have one last memory of being with him. The most wonderful gift he can possibly offer him, in his mind.

"Okay, on one condition," Peter says, trying to keep his voice from breaking as he runs a comb through the other's longer hair, then his fingers too. Such a shame it has to go.

"You tag along for moral support. Invisibility is a lot of fun," he finishes, smiling despite himself as he begins shearing off his younger self's hair.

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Staring in the mirror after, the only difference between himself and the man from the future is the color of their t-shirts. It's got the be the weirdest thing, standing side by side like this. Peter slips his hand into his twin's and grins, turning his head towards the other man.

"Maybe this is weird, but you feel more like... A brother. Than me. I guess it's just easier to think of you as a twin instead..."

Peter shrugs. He has the same tendencies towards 'older brothers' as his other self, it seems.

He's just not going to think of it that way.

There's the softest if kisses after that. Just a peck but on the lips. All right. He's ready for this.

"You need to get changed."

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Peter's eyes fall closed as his other self's lips brush against his, softly and just barely. A brother! He almost can't believe he's hearing it, the sentiment echoing his very own thoughts after last night's... whatever it was. They're the same person in nearly every way, yet Peter finds himself continually surprised by him.

"Yeah, you're right," he says, tugging himself away before he can get too caught up, hurrying to the bedroom closet.

"Damn it, I never know what to wear," he complains, rifling through the contents of the hangers in a bit of a panic. "You should have asked him if Mom were coming! She'll glare at me all night if I show up in jeans! And Nathan will pick on me if I wear something too nice..."

Well, that decides it then. Amusing his big brother one last time at his own expense sounds like a plan. Peter strips off his t-shirt and jeans, and picks out a blue dress shirt and the least-wrinkled pair of slacks he owns, tucking in the shirt and rolling up the sleeves. No tie. He'll wind up dipping it right in his tomato sauce, knowing his luck.

"What do you think?" he asks, pouting slightly. "At least tell me I don't look like a major tool."

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"If you want me to lie to you..." He laughs when Peter gives him quite the look. He hugs the other man and fixes the side of his collar.

They needed to get out of here.

"If you can figure out how to save some of those shells, do it." Hiedi has the best food he's tasted. Better even than his mom's.

(Sorry so short. Baking)

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Peter shakes his head, laughing. "You might get to eat them yourself. If I start screwing this up, we're heading straight for the bathroom and we're switching clothes, you got it?" Sure he could just cast an illusion, but concentrating on that while staying invisible would be a pain in the ass, to be honest.

It's just then that younger Peter's phone rings, and the elder grabs it. It's Nathan. Peter puts it on speakerphone so they can both hear.

"...Hello?" Peter answers.

"Hey, Pete. You want me to send a car to come pick you up?"

Peter gives other Peter a panicked look, but the younger man offers nothing but that trademark crooked smile of his. Yep, definitely somewhat of a masochist, the way he likes to watch himself suffer!

He recovers, stammering, "Uh -- no -- I'll just take a cab."

"All right, suit yourself. It's on me. Heidi and the kids are thrilled that you're coming, Pete. See you soon."

Of course, Peter could just snap his fingers and be in Nathan's living room, but that would cause a scene -- at the very least. Secondly, he figured the cab ride would give him some time to get his head on straight.

Not counting the time Peter terrorized Nathan and his past self in Nathan's office with tales of an apocalypse, this would be the first real time he'd spent with his brother in over a year. And quite probably the last. As long as he doesn't wind up alone with Nathan sometime during the evening, he's almost sure he can do this.

He spends the first few minutes of the cab ride gripping his other self's invisible hand hard enough to hurt.

(Just a few thoughts on how we could play this -- they could talk to each other telepathically, and we NPC Nathan. Muahaha.)

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"You look like an idiot, holding the air like that," Peter whispers. He's trying to be nice, he really is, and he does understand why his new 'brother' is having a mini stroke next to him. At least he can play off this nervous energy as being unsure about his current haircut.

Peter keeps touching his own head, running his fingers through his hair. What's left of it. It's truly strange to just have a bit of peach fuzz there instead. He almost moves his chin to jerk the hair out of his eyes despite having no hair there to flick! Old habits die hard.

He sets his cheek on Peter's shoulder. A night with Nathan and his family and maybe one more night with him and then he's losing his 'twin.'

It's painful to think about.

Peter doesn't do well with being alone. He could always go and check on Mohinder again, he supposes. That crazy ability stealer... Well, Peter doesn't really like to think about him.

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