The Memory of Trees by fiorediloto (NC-17)
Fandom: HEROES
Pairing: Nathan Petrelli/Peter Petrelli
Length: 5,726 words
Author on LJ: fiorediloto
Author Website: Fiction Masterlist on Livejournal
Why this must be read:
In a deleted scene in the Heroes DVD, Nathan mentioned at one point a treehouse where he got Peter drunk for the first time. This is the story about what happened. It's a lovely, melancholic look at the brothers, at a Peter that's different from Nathan but still a Petrelli, and a Nathan that can't find it in himself to truly say no. -cm
Peter’s got his eyes closed and his breath is regular, so much so that for a moment you suspect he’s fallen asleep on your shoulder. Peter can sleep anywhere, can doze off in the time normal people devote to relax the mind thinking about large open spaces and flying in the sky. You’ve seen him fallen asleep in no longer than a minute or two in your car’s passenger seat, back from a dinner together and once from school, in the middle of the afternoon. That time you surprised yourself looking at him for so long, from the slightly parted halfmoon of his lips to the hand languidly resting on his thigh, that just for a well-trained reflex you didn’t crash into the car before you. When Peter woke up with a start, bouncing back against the seat because of the seat belt, your heart was pounding so hard in your ears you feared he could hear it too, and understand.
The Memory of Trees
Pairing: Nathan Petrelli/Peter Petrelli
Length: 5,726 words
Author on LJ: fiorediloto
Author Website: Fiction Masterlist on Livejournal
Why this must be read:
In a deleted scene in the Heroes DVD, Nathan mentioned at one point a treehouse where he got Peter drunk for the first time. This is the story about what happened. It's a lovely, melancholic look at the brothers, at a Peter that's different from Nathan but still a Petrelli, and a Nathan that can't find it in himself to truly say no. -cm
Peter’s got his eyes closed and his breath is regular, so much so that for a moment you suspect he’s fallen asleep on your shoulder. Peter can sleep anywhere, can doze off in the time normal people devote to relax the mind thinking about large open spaces and flying in the sky. You’ve seen him fallen asleep in no longer than a minute or two in your car’s passenger seat, back from a dinner together and once from school, in the middle of the afternoon. That time you surprised yourself looking at him for so long, from the slightly parted halfmoon of his lips to the hand languidly resting on his thigh, that just for a well-trained reflex you didn’t crash into the car before you. When Peter woke up with a start, bouncing back against the seat because of the seat belt, your heart was pounding so hard in your ears you feared he could hear it too, and understand.
The Memory of Trees