To The Victors Go The Spoils (Fic, Nathan/Peter)
Title: To The Victors Go The Spoils
Pairing, Characters: Nathan/Peter, Sylar
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Incest, Language, Violence, Character Death, PWP
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or its characters; I make no money from the writing of this story.
Spoilers: Anything up to 3x25, “An Invisible Thread”, up to the scene between Nathan and Sylar in the hotel room.
Summary: Nathan is sure this is the end. Or is it?
A/N: My (slightly kinky) version of how “An Invisible Thread” should have ended. Inspired by something said to me by rtwofan a long time ago. Unbetaed. Also for Themed Table 01: Horror, Prompt 04: Killer at mission_insane.
This is the end.
I know it is, when Sylar throws me across the room and I hit the piano with enough force to knock the breath out of me.
Peter’s gone, and I’m about to die. Sylar telekinetically hauls me to my feet, murder in his eyes. I stare back at the hateful son of a bitch, unblinking, unafraid.
That's a lie. Of course I'm afraid.
I consider launching myself past him and through the window, but my body won’t obey my thoughts. I can’t fly, can’t move, can’t even breathe. He’s like a deadly cat, holding me still like a mouse under his paw.
It’s over.
Face it like a man, Petrelli, I tell myself. I’m sorry, Peter.
I feel the invisible blade cut into my throat, but suddenly the blade goes wide and slashes my cheek instead.
Peter has flown full speed into him, and carries him across the hotel room, until both of them hit the far wall, smashing drywall and breaking another window under the force of the impact.
I hear my brother scream something unintelligible, and I fall to my knees, my hands at my face and throat, wondering if I’m bleeding to death, wondering if Peter was too late after all.
The cut to my neck is superficial, and the one in my cheek is bleeding pretty badly. But I’m going to live; facial wounds always bleed the most.
Peter screams at me to fly, to leave, but I still won’t let him do this alone.
I get up, and I take flight towards where my brother and Sylar are fighting, Peter with his hands, and Sylar with bolts of electricity. I have only one thought on my mind: I’m going to kill that motherfucker.
Peter is screaming nonsense and landing lightning fast blows to Sylar’s face and gut, and then I see it, the flash of the power transfer. Peter’s taken something of his, and I hope he picked the right one, or both of us are finished.
Peter’s face spreads in a smile that scares me, and suddenly, there is an even greater flash. Peter’s pupils dilate, and he lifts Sylar’s limp body with the stolen telekinesis and holds him there. Sylar just laughs, and I slam my fist into his face, breaking his nose. I know one of my fingers is broken, but the adrenaline flowing through me masks the pain. Sylar falls to the carpet, and he doesn’t get up.
Why isn’t he moving? What is Peter doing that’s keeping him at bay?
“I took them all,” Peter gasps, his body trembling, his chest heaving. I don’t understand his answer at first. He turns to me and I see him flinch at the blood running from my face.
After another second I realize what he means: all of Sylar’s powers. Peter’s full ability has returned, because he used Sylar’s intuitive ability to fix it.
But we have to do something quickly, because it’s not over yet. Peter won’t be able to hold Sylar for long.
“What are you waiting for? Kill him!” I yell.
“You do it,” Peter says, handing me his Swiss army knife. “He was ready to kill you.”
I’m confused. What the fuck is Peter talking about? I can’t kill him; he’s fucking invincible because he stole my daughter’s power.
“He moved the spot, and I know where it is, Nathan. Right now, I know everything. Take the knife; I’ll do the rest. We’ll do it together, Nathan.”
I smile and take the knife from his outstretched hand, and Peter locks Sylar up against the wall again, his back now turned towards us.
Sylar laughs hysterically, almost disbelievingly, as Peter forces his head around so he can watch. The last thing Sylar will ever see in this world, before he descends into hell, is the Petrelli brothers.
I feel Peter pull my arm up, and the blade lodges with a sickening sound, metal against bone, passing through Sylar’s back, severing his spine. I watch the light leave Sylar’s eyes.
Now it’s really over.
Sylar’s lifeless body falls, and Peter throws himself at me, tears falling down his cheeks.
“He would have killed you, Nathan,” he moans, taking my face in his hands. “But I saved you.”
Peter’s mouth crushes over mine, and I kiss him back, even though all I can taste is my own blood and his tears. The adrenaline in my system has, strangely enough, heightened my senses while dulling all my pain, and Peter’s body crashes into mine, and we fall to the floor, groping at each other’s clothes, tearing off buttons and breaking zippers in our haste for this coupling, right here, right now, next to our mortal enemy’s cooling corpse. This desire for one another is fueled by our victory, denied until now because of the foolish choices I made.
Peter should hate me for what I’ve put him through, but he doesn’t. He loves me. He’s my brother.
My hands are covered in Sylar’s blood and Peter’s in mine, but I don’t care and neither does he as we touch each other, leaving dark red smears that mark each of us as the property of the other. Peter is mine, and I am his.
Our bodies meet finally, and the heat of his naked flesh against mine sends a rush straight to my groin, and I can’t believe how quickly I’ve become hard. Peter’s mouth is on me before I can even kick my jeans off my ankles, and I inhale sharply at the velvet feel of his tongue on my cock.
I’m holding Peter’s face against my hips, fucking his mouth, and his eyes are closed, his nostrils flaring while he sucks air into his lungs, while he strokes himself.
The last time he let me do that to him was before he lost his powers, and I know exactly why. He gives me control for a little while, until he takes it back. And I almost can’t wait. My stomach knots in anticipation.
When I’m almost there, Peter knows instantly. He pushes me away from him, and I land hard on my ass. His dark eyes sparkle as he lunges toward me and pulls me down on top of him almost violently, our skin slick with sweat and blood.
“Fuck me, Nathan,” he groans. Even though Peter is all-powerful again, there’s one thing in this world he still needs. Me.
“Oh, I will, Peter,” I answer, trying to push myself off him. But Peter won’t let me move; he’s holding me with his telekinesis. I can’t move, but that doesn’t scare me this time of course; it only heightens my arousal.
Right then I realize how much I missed Peter being in control.
“I said fuck me. Right now,” Peter demands. I’m not surprised at his cut to the chase; he was never as patient as I am.
I spit into my hand; even if he’ll heal, I can’t do this dry, for my own sake. I work my fingers into him, and once he’s opened enough, I take my cock in one hand, push his thigh sideways with the other, and I sink deep into my brother, the only man I’ll ever do this with.
The only man I’d die for, the only man I’d kill for. The only man I’ve ever loved like this.
Peter is driving himself upward into my thrusts, and every time my hips collide against him, he makes a sound between a growl and a moan. I look down at him while I fuck him, giving him what he’s wanted and needed for all this time we’ve been apart, but he knows he’s giving me the same.
I’m lucky Peter loves me as much as he does, after everything I’ve done to him. With all of Sylar’s powers made his own, he’s like an oleander, or a black widow spider, beautiful on the surface, but deadly beneath.
And after what we’ve done in this hotel room, he’s a killer, and so am I. Because of that, we’re both alive, doing this together.
We both reach our peak at the same time; while I come inside him, he is coming beneath me, and once we’re both spent we collapse together, our arms and legs tangled in what is far from a brotherly embrace.
Peter whispers, after he has caught his breath, “I love you, Nathan. I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you.”
I answer, pulling him in close to me, “You didn’t. That’s all that matters.”
Pairing, Characters: Nathan/Peter, Sylar
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Incest, Language, Violence, Character Death, PWP
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or its characters; I make no money from the writing of this story.
Spoilers: Anything up to 3x25, “An Invisible Thread”, up to the scene between Nathan and Sylar in the hotel room.
Summary: Nathan is sure this is the end. Or is it?
A/N: My (slightly kinky) version of how “An Invisible Thread” should have ended. Inspired by something said to me by rtwofan a long time ago. Unbetaed. Also for Themed Table 01: Horror, Prompt 04: Killer at mission_insane.
This is the end.
I know it is, when Sylar throws me across the room and I hit the piano with enough force to knock the breath out of me.
Peter’s gone, and I’m about to die. Sylar telekinetically hauls me to my feet, murder in his eyes. I stare back at the hateful son of a bitch, unblinking, unafraid.
That's a lie. Of course I'm afraid.
I consider launching myself past him and through the window, but my body won’t obey my thoughts. I can’t fly, can’t move, can’t even breathe. He’s like a deadly cat, holding me still like a mouse under his paw.
It’s over.
Face it like a man, Petrelli, I tell myself. I’m sorry, Peter.
I feel the invisible blade cut into my throat, but suddenly the blade goes wide and slashes my cheek instead.
Peter has flown full speed into him, and carries him across the hotel room, until both of them hit the far wall, smashing drywall and breaking another window under the force of the impact.
I hear my brother scream something unintelligible, and I fall to my knees, my hands at my face and throat, wondering if I’m bleeding to death, wondering if Peter was too late after all.
The cut to my neck is superficial, and the one in my cheek is bleeding pretty badly. But I’m going to live; facial wounds always bleed the most.
Peter screams at me to fly, to leave, but I still won’t let him do this alone.
I get up, and I take flight towards where my brother and Sylar are fighting, Peter with his hands, and Sylar with bolts of electricity. I have only one thought on my mind: I’m going to kill that motherfucker.
Peter is screaming nonsense and landing lightning fast blows to Sylar’s face and gut, and then I see it, the flash of the power transfer. Peter’s taken something of his, and I hope he picked the right one, or both of us are finished.
Peter’s face spreads in a smile that scares me, and suddenly, there is an even greater flash. Peter’s pupils dilate, and he lifts Sylar’s limp body with the stolen telekinesis and holds him there. Sylar just laughs, and I slam my fist into his face, breaking his nose. I know one of my fingers is broken, but the adrenaline flowing through me masks the pain. Sylar falls to the carpet, and he doesn’t get up.
Why isn’t he moving? What is Peter doing that’s keeping him at bay?
“I took them all,” Peter gasps, his body trembling, his chest heaving. I don’t understand his answer at first. He turns to me and I see him flinch at the blood running from my face.
After another second I realize what he means: all of Sylar’s powers. Peter’s full ability has returned, because he used Sylar’s intuitive ability to fix it.
But we have to do something quickly, because it’s not over yet. Peter won’t be able to hold Sylar for long.
“What are you waiting for? Kill him!” I yell.
“You do it,” Peter says, handing me his Swiss army knife. “He was ready to kill you.”
I’m confused. What the fuck is Peter talking about? I can’t kill him; he’s fucking invincible because he stole my daughter’s power.
“He moved the spot, and I know where it is, Nathan. Right now, I know everything. Take the knife; I’ll do the rest. We’ll do it together, Nathan.”
I smile and take the knife from his outstretched hand, and Peter locks Sylar up against the wall again, his back now turned towards us.
Sylar laughs hysterically, almost disbelievingly, as Peter forces his head around so he can watch. The last thing Sylar will ever see in this world, before he descends into hell, is the Petrelli brothers.
I feel Peter pull my arm up, and the blade lodges with a sickening sound, metal against bone, passing through Sylar’s back, severing his spine. I watch the light leave Sylar’s eyes.
Now it’s really over.
Sylar’s lifeless body falls, and Peter throws himself at me, tears falling down his cheeks.
“He would have killed you, Nathan,” he moans, taking my face in his hands. “But I saved you.”
Peter’s mouth crushes over mine, and I kiss him back, even though all I can taste is my own blood and his tears. The adrenaline in my system has, strangely enough, heightened my senses while dulling all my pain, and Peter’s body crashes into mine, and we fall to the floor, groping at each other’s clothes, tearing off buttons and breaking zippers in our haste for this coupling, right here, right now, next to our mortal enemy’s cooling corpse. This desire for one another is fueled by our victory, denied until now because of the foolish choices I made.
Peter should hate me for what I’ve put him through, but he doesn’t. He loves me. He’s my brother.
My hands are covered in Sylar’s blood and Peter’s in mine, but I don’t care and neither does he as we touch each other, leaving dark red smears that mark each of us as the property of the other. Peter is mine, and I am his.
Our bodies meet finally, and the heat of his naked flesh against mine sends a rush straight to my groin, and I can’t believe how quickly I’ve become hard. Peter’s mouth is on me before I can even kick my jeans off my ankles, and I inhale sharply at the velvet feel of his tongue on my cock.
I’m holding Peter’s face against my hips, fucking his mouth, and his eyes are closed, his nostrils flaring while he sucks air into his lungs, while he strokes himself.
The last time he let me do that to him was before he lost his powers, and I know exactly why. He gives me control for a little while, until he takes it back. And I almost can’t wait. My stomach knots in anticipation.
When I’m almost there, Peter knows instantly. He pushes me away from him, and I land hard on my ass. His dark eyes sparkle as he lunges toward me and pulls me down on top of him almost violently, our skin slick with sweat and blood.
“Fuck me, Nathan,” he groans. Even though Peter is all-powerful again, there’s one thing in this world he still needs. Me.
“Oh, I will, Peter,” I answer, trying to push myself off him. But Peter won’t let me move; he’s holding me with his telekinesis. I can’t move, but that doesn’t scare me this time of course; it only heightens my arousal.
Right then I realize how much I missed Peter being in control.
“I said fuck me. Right now,” Peter demands. I’m not surprised at his cut to the chase; he was never as patient as I am.
I spit into my hand; even if he’ll heal, I can’t do this dry, for my own sake. I work my fingers into him, and once he’s opened enough, I take my cock in one hand, push his thigh sideways with the other, and I sink deep into my brother, the only man I’ll ever do this with.
The only man I’d die for, the only man I’d kill for. The only man I’ve ever loved like this.
Peter is driving himself upward into my thrusts, and every time my hips collide against him, he makes a sound between a growl and a moan. I look down at him while I fuck him, giving him what he’s wanted and needed for all this time we’ve been apart, but he knows he’s giving me the same.
I’m lucky Peter loves me as much as he does, after everything I’ve done to him. With all of Sylar’s powers made his own, he’s like an oleander, or a black widow spider, beautiful on the surface, but deadly beneath.
And after what we’ve done in this hotel room, he’s a killer, and so am I. Because of that, we’re both alive, doing this together.
We both reach our peak at the same time; while I come inside him, he is coming beneath me, and once we’re both spent we collapse together, our arms and legs tangled in what is far from a brotherly embrace.
Peter whispers, after he has caught his breath, “I love you, Nathan. I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you.”
I answer, pulling him in close to me, “You didn’t. That’s all that matters.”