hackthis_archive | Heroes – Hate the Sin, Not the Sinner (Peter/Nathan)

Dirtywrongbad welcomes you to 2007. Also, tonight is FNL, do not be forgetting newly converted people and old heads!

Heroes
Peter/Nathan
Rated R (incest)
General series spoilers

Hate the Sin, Not the Sinner

No kissing.

Peter shuddered at Nathan's words, at the warmth of Nathan's breath against his skin and lips against the shell of his ear. He twitched again as Nathan's mouth brushed against the side of his neck, not kissing, not biting, just breathing. If he'd known this was going to happen, he would've worn a shirt with no collar. If he'd thought this through, he probably would've shown up with no clothing on at all. Nathan would've loved that.

Right.

Peter clutched at Nathan's hips, pulling him in, riding the thigh that Nathan had insinuated between his legs. His body twitched in the vise made by Nathan and the door behind them.

Nathan's hands cupped either side of Peter's jaw, holding him in place, holding him still, not that he would've gone anywhere anyway. Peter wouldn't -- couldn't -- do that. Nathan had to know that; he knew everything else.

Peter's breath caught as Nathan's hair brushed against his jaw, and then his cheek, and then there were those dark eyes, studying him, stripping him bare. The darkness was faint from the window just over Nathan's shoulder and there was a brief flare of light as another potential campaign donor pulled up the drive.

Peter parted his lips slightly as Nathan's thumb rubbed against his mouth. This was -- this was pretty much his fault. And Nathan said Peter never used his brain. Except that Peter was the one who'd brushed up against Nathan when he was talking with Mrs. Vandenberg, and Peter was the one who'd put a hand on Nathan's shoulder when he'd been schmoozing David Astor. That much touching at one time was like lighting the batsignal, in a manner of speaking.

Nathan was just doing what Peter wanted. Right.

"No kissing," Nathan repeated again. The pad of his thumb rubbed Peter's lower lip before he pushed it inside Peter's mouth.

Peter licked at Nathan's thumb. He flickered his tongue along the perfectly manicured nail and sucked along the column of warm flesh, his mouth turning up at the corners when Nathan loosed a soft groan, his thumb fucking Peter's mouth slowly.

When Peter tightened his grip on Nathan's hips; he could feel how hard Nathan was in his suit. He could feel the unyielding give of the door against his spine. It was an old door. This was an old house. Old money tended to have old everything, even the sins were old.

Nathan grinned when Peter bit at his thumb, white teeth flashing in the darkness of a room that really wasn't that dark. Guest rooms never were. They were shitty for staying with extended family, but apparently they were great for hiding out in during campaign stops. Peter had been looking for the bathroom. The bathroom, right.

He was just looking, just hiding, just waiting. Nathan always made him wait. Nathan always showed up at just the last moment for Peter. Not when Peter needed him, not when Peter wanted him, but just after Peter assumed that this time Nathan wasn't going to come. Except that Nathan always came through -- it was what he did, and in every way imaginable.

Nathan slid his thumb out of Peter's mouth slowly, dragging it against Peter's teeth, and Peter let his lips stay open, just a little bit. He licked his bottom lip, his eyes trying to track Nathan's expressions, trying to figure out if this was it. If it was really going to happen this time. The heat coiling in his stomach burned; Nathan was going to give him an ulcer at this rate. Nathan wasn't going to give him anything at this rate. Nathan would pull away and straighten his tie. He'd give Peter the candidate smile. He'd say it was all a misunderstanding.

No kissing.

No undressing.

Nothing intimate. Nothing erotic. Nothing personal.

Right.

He said that every time Peter tried to find time for them.

The first time Peter had touched Nathan in a fit of rage and distress and upset, because Nathan never let him help, Nathan had frozen under his hands. Peter had hit him, had shoved him and shouted, but Nathan hadn't reacted to anything, because that was just Nathan, and sometimes Peter wondered if Nathan was dead inside.

So, Peter had kissed Nathan. Angrily, messily, and with absolutely no finesse. All instinct and no planning. That was Peter every time.

He'd bitten and licked, sucked and stroked, and Nathan kissing him back might've been the biggest shock of Peter's life, except that the moment after it happened, Nathan had thrown Peter off of him, gotten up from the sofa and stomped out of Peter's apartment.

There had been no talk about it, no discussion, no nothing. If they didn't talk about it then it obviously had never happened, except that then Nathan had started touching Peter all the time. Hands on his shoulders and the nape of his neck, warm weight and pressure everywhere except where Peter really wanted it to be. Nathan would smile the Assistant District Attorney smile and pretend, and Peter would be frustrated.

Nathan always left Peter frustrated.

He never did what Peter wanted. Nathan only gave Peter what Nathan thought he needed, which was why they were locked away in a guest room at the Ollenberg's home, where Peter had played cops and robbers with Jamie "Call me James, now" Ollenberg when they were ten.

Nathan was rutting against Peter with urgency; Peter just let him. He was going to come in his own suit any minute, but he wanted to focus on the big finish. So Peter bit his lip, shifted his weight, and let Nathan do what he had to to get off. There was no touching of bare skin. There was no removing of clothes. It had taken Peter long enough just to get Nathan here.

Personally, Peter wanted to yank at the collar of Nathan's oxford shirt and rip off his tie. He wanted to strip off Nathan's suit and leave him bare. Mostly, Peter just wanted to touch him. He wanted proof that Nathan really needed him. He wanted Nathan to react to him. Except there were rules about this.

You couldn't commit crime after crime or sin after sin if you didn't follow the rules. Everyone needed a support structure, especially people who were inappropriately involved with their brothers: times, dates, places, alibis, hand signals that no one else could read.

Peter never meant for any of this to happen. It was never supposed to be this complicated. It was never supposed to be this hard. Peter had just wanted something more. Something for them.

And maybe it was, because when Nathan came at last, twitching and shuddering against him, he leaned in and kissed Peter anyway.

-end-

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