Heroes, Peter/Nathan, regret
Note: This is set early on in the first season, before Homecoming.
Nathan could clearly see that Peter was headed for trouble. He was being obsessive, first with flying, then with the whole “save the cheerleader, save the world” thing. Nothing else mattered to him. He’d quit his job, endangered his brother’s campaign and if someone didn’t stop him he was going to get himself hurt.
He wasn’t thinking clearly (but then did Peter ever think clearly?)
What Nathan needed to do was make Peter listen to reason. Back him up against a wall, pin him down and make him see that he was heading toward disaster.
Nathan tried, he did his best but as usual Peter refused to cooperate, refused to accept that his brother knew what was best for him. He wouldn’t hold still, he wouldn’t shut up and he would not listen.
“This is bigger than you, Nathan,” he kept saying. “You don’t get to be in charge.”
It was infuriating. The amount of effort he devoted trying to keep Peter safe and happy was ridiculous, a waste. He had a family, a career he should be concentrating on. Instead he was throwing away time and energy trying to talk sense to Peter when Peter wouldn’t even look at him.
Nathan’s self control slipped. His rational arguments turned into shouting accusations. Peter was selfish, reckless, he was paranoid and unthinking and he was going to get himself killed. What would that do to their mother, what would that do to Nathan’s campaign?
“Is that all you care about,” Peter asked his voice annoyingly shrill and righteous. Nathan grasped his brother by the shoulders, shook him hard.
“I care about you. Why else to you think I bother?” Nathan yelled.
“Get your hands off me.” Peter yelled back. He pushed Nathan away. Nathan pushed back and Peter went sprawling on the floor, shouting in pain and surprise. He’d bit his lip, blood welled up from the cut, ran down his chin.
“Oh my God, I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry… are you okay?”
Peter hadn’t even caught his breath when Nathan was at his side, trying to apologize, to keep Peter calm, to repair the damage. He stroked Peter’s hair, dabbling at the blood with a clean handkerchief. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He had Peter’s best interests at heart. All he wanted was to protect his little brother.
Overwhelmed by both frustration and tenderness in equal parts, Nathan embraced Peter. Holding him tight he nuzzled against his brother, kissing him on the cheek then kissing his bloody mouth. Confusion filled Peter’s eyes but he grabbed Nathan by the shirtfront, pulled his brother down on top of him, his legs parting to acuminate Nathan. Peter whimpered helplessly as they pelvis’ ground together. They moved together, grinding and humping against each other, friction building. They’d done it before; driven by passions they couldn’t keep in check. Every time they did it they swore that it would never happen again but it always did, love and anger consuming them both, finding it’s expression in raw, primeval sex. Nathan jerked hard against his brother, Peter stiffened and trembled beneath him, clinging hard as he came. Seconds later Nathan exploded, driven over the edge by Peter’s orgasmic convulsions, his desperate, clutching embrace.
For a long time they lay still, wrapped around each other, shamed and satiated. Finally Nathan pulled away. He got to his feet, straightened his tie.
“You know I love you, Peter,” he said sternly. “I’m just trying to keep you from doing something you’ll regret.”