I love my Heroes

[mf_luder_xf]

New fic, new fandom. A Heroes fic for you all.  Also the lyric challege that took me forever to suffer an idea for.

Pairing: Nathan/Peter
Summary: It meant more to him to have those hands on him, reassuring he existed, than for his mother to praise him or his job to promote him.

Title: Blister in the Son
Author: MF Luder
Pairing: Nathan/Peter
Keywords: Petrellicest, slash, angst
Rating: R
Spoilers: The show itself
Disclaimer: They belong to the NBC and whoever produces the show
Archive: My LJ, Biani's Slash Archive, anywhere else, please just let me know so I can visit and pet my baby on occasion.;-)
Summary: It meant more to him to have those hands on him, reassuring he existed, than for his mother to praise him, or his job to promote him.
Feedback: Mulder_Loves_Scully_Forever@hotmail.com
Author's Notes: Written for phaballa's lyric challenge. I was given a song and told to write any pairing, any fandom. Also written prior to 1x03 and before I read certain spoilers concerning Nathan. If you've read them, you'll understand. Otherwise, it doesn't matter.
Warnings: Some may consider a scene to be underage, but there isn't actually anything sexual going on. But, just in case, now you know. And yeah, the whole incest thing.
Beta Thanks: The beautiful, talented, AMAZING la_folle_allure
Inspiration:...Gay men are every bit as emotionally closeted as their straight counterparts. Instead of just one partner being distant, uncommunicative and emotionally stunted, both are.--Minotaur

i. when i'm out walking i strut my stuff and i'm so strung out

It was never a question of Peter measuring up to his brother. Peter received just as good of grades--if not better--as Nathan, he was on as many teams in high school, won as many scholarships. It was just that Nathan was older. His grades reports came in sooner so that by the time Peter's did, it was trivial in the excitement of Nathan's straight A's. He was older and joined sports teams sooner than Peter, so that when Peter broke the school record for the butterfly, it had already been overshadowed by Nathan's school record in the breast stroke.

Even when it came to girls, Peter wasn't any less apt, per se, at being able to find a girlfriend, just Nathan had years ahead of him. And what freshman girl wouldn't rather go out with her friends' college-aged and handsome brother?

It wasn't something Peter had ever been upset about. He had no issues being in the shadow the sun cast while it danced in its glory.

ii. i'm high as a kite i just might stop to check you out

Peter was rarely jealous of his brother. The things Nathan wanted simply weren't what he wanted. While sometimes old friends of the family would smile patronizingly at him, murmuring to friends about 'that poor younger Petrelli brother--he'll never be able to reach as high as his brother', it never bothered him; not beyond the fact that he really didn't like old ladies who had nothing better to do than gossip about meaningless things all day.

He didn't envy the flock of women that always surrounded his brother. He didn't need the attention of his brother. Not the public attention, anyway.

But every time beautiful blondes, classy brunettes, and sassy redheads crowded around Nathan, Peter was envious of the looks his older brother gave the women. Envious that someone else was on the receiving end of Nathan's charms. He wanted to walk up to his brother and show those women that Nathan belonged to him.

Sometimes it got so much he wanted to scream at all of them. The women, the media who flirted with him--asking Nathan who he was seeing, would he get married, didn't he think he needed a wife to help run the 'home' while he worked for the people? Sometimes Peter would want to yell at them all that not only could Nathan take care of himself, but that he already had someone who cared about him, loved him, and looked after him.

On those days, he would excuse himself to a bathroom and pound a stall door with one fist, the other stuffed in his mouth to muffle the screams.

But on other days, when Peter wasn't just watching his older brother on the news, when he was actually there, Nathan's eyes would search for him and the exchange would be so small no one would notice, but Peter knew that glance was just for him and he was the only who got to see that true warmth and depth.

On those days, he didn't begrudge the women their flirtations.

iii. let me go on, like i blister in the sun...big hands i know you're the one

Peter loved nothing more than being in bed on a rare lazy day with Nathan.

It wasn't the conversation that made it perfect, although he liked slipping into nostalgic land, remembering their childish antics, remembering how it was before Dad died.

It wasn't even the sex that made it amazing, though Peter loved knowing his brother was inside him--feeling the connection that bonded them as brothers in every aspect, in every way possible.

Rather, it was the soothing and comforting touches, the nudges of chins and shoulders, the soft and unhurried kisses.

Nathan had these hands. Hands that could almost wrap entirely around Peter's hips. Hands that were elegant as befitting an aristocrat, but not dainty or slim. Broad palms, long fingers, short manicured nails.

A surefire way to get Peter aroused was simply for those nails to trail just under his shirt, at the waistband of his boxers, where no one would see Nathan's hand moving, no one would know--except Peter. His brother knew what it did to him and had once spent an entire Christmas Eve teasing Peter's hips and back with those perfect nails before, finally, everyone went to bed at one in the morning and Nathan could follow up on his promise.

Peter never felt so safe as when his brother's hands cradled his hips and face. The gestures--even during sex--spoke more of love and tenderness than anything else. It meant more to him to have those hands on him, reassuring he existed, than for his mother to praise him, or his job to promote him.

iv. body and beats, i stain my sheets i don't even know why

The first time they ever talked about sex, Peter was ten. He woke up and found himself sticky and starting to itch. He wasn't sure what the white stuff was but didn't want to disturb his parents, so he padded his way to his brother's room. If anyone would know, surely Nathan would.

His brother had grouched at him for a moment, calling Peter a pest before he finally realized Peter was worried. Then he laughed.

"It's normal, Pete. It happens to all guys. It's called a wet dream."

"A wet dream?" Peter had asked.

"Yeah, it's basically, you were dreaming about some pretty girl and your body decided it liked it and just sort of...well, you came."

"Came?" Peter had been almost more confused, then.

Sighing, Nathan had sat up and patted the spot in between his legs, pulling Peter's scrawny body in close to his chest. "It means, in your sleep, you got an erection because whatever you were dreaming about made your body excited and so it found a release, called an orgasm."

"Oh. I know what that is. I've heard Mom and Dad say that before."

"Did you?" Nathan sounded upset but when Peter tried to turn around, warm arms wrapped around his chest, not letting him. "It's nothing to be ashamed of or worried about, though, ok? It's going to happen and when it does, you just need to clean yourself up and if it's too bad, change your sheets. When you get older, you'll be able to control it better. I promise, 'k?"

Peter nodded, but then thought of something else. "It wasn't a girl I was dreaming about."

"No?"

"It was you."

Nathan had gone stiff behind him and Peter turned around, never having seen his brother looking so shocked.

"What? Did I do something wrong? Wasn't I supposed to tell?"

Nathan shook his head and then grinned at his brother. "You're just fine. I'm glad you told me. Now go on, go wash yourself and go back to sleep. You've got a test tomorrow, right?"

Peter nodded again, then leaned in and kissed his brother on the cheek, even though he knew he was supposed to be too old to. They were close and though Nathan made a disgusted face, it was all in jest and Peter had felt better. He cleaned himself and put on new pajamas and went back to sleep.

v. let me go on like i blister in the sun

Most days, Peter was content.

Most days, Peter didn't mind taking care of his mom.

Most days, Peter didn't mind being in the shadow of the great Nathan Petrelli.

Most days, Peter worshiped his brother.

Some days, though, Peter hated his brother.

Standing atop a fifteen story building, contemplating life and death and flying and greatness; this was one of those days.

One of those days when all the women irritated him, one of those days when his brother had sweetly tortured him with large hands resting on his shoulders, knowing what Peter needed, but not giving it--not able to give it.

He stepped off the ledge, needing to know, needing to prove himself worthy of the sun.

And then Nathan caught him.

It was days like today when Peter hated himself.

Blister in the Sun--Violent Femmes
When I'm out walking I strut my stuff yeah I'm so strung out
I'm high as a kite I just might stop to check you out
let me go on like I blister in the sun
let me go on big hands I know your the one
body and beats I stain my sheets I don't even know why
my girlfriend she's at the end she is starting to cry
let me go on like I blister in the sun
let me go on big hands I know your the one...

Comments

[inderpal.livejournal.com]

Well, I've seen all three eps now and am just about to watch ep 4, and can't wait for the next ep ... I think that means I am hooked. :D