Relief Next to Me [Peter/Nathan]
Title: Relief Next to Me
Summary: Peter had quickly discovered that Nathan was the only one he could run to.
Word count: 1,066.
Disclaimer: The names of all characters contained herein are the property of Tim Kring and NBC. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.
Rating/warnings: T/PG-13, just to be safe.
Author’s Note: Featuring teen!Peter and college!Nathan. Written for the prompt Peter Petrelli / Nathan Petrelli / hold me close. For
lucentliz .
He had gotten into a fight with his father. Well, to be entirely precise, yet another fight with his father. Those seemed to be occurring with an alarming frequency lately, and while they seemed to have an underlying theme (Peter not living up to the Petrelli name, for the most part, with a side of “you disappoint me”) he found himself wondering what he did wrong. He did, after all, try his best. He wanted to make his father proud, of course; every son does. He just didn’t want to be a lawyer, or a politician. He didn’t want to lose his soul in the process of becoming great. Peter promised himself he would be great, someday. Even if his father said he would be a failure, he would be great. (A great failure, maybe, he thought wryly, but great nonetheless.)
Nathan was in college by this time, an Ivy League school of course-the Petrelli name demanded nothing less. Even if the oldest boy hadn’t had the grades to get in, Peter suspected that his father would’ve adjusted things so that he could. A hefty donation, perhaps, or a new wing added to the library, or renovations much needed. Something of that nature. Quantity over quality. Nathan wouldn’t have known, but he would’ve suspected. That was always his way, not that he would admit that he actually had a ‘way’.
And, as they were brothers, and Nathan the oldest, Peter would often turn to him with problems. He didn’t like feeling beholden to anybody, especially his brother; but it was Nathan, after all, and while he didn’t want Peter around at first (he had exams, loads of homework, girls, and who knew what else to deal with) there was that tiny little thing where they were the other’s world entire. Just before Nathan would tell Peter to fuck off, he would remember that, shrug his shoulders in defeat, and invite him to stay in his dorm room. For the night, or even for a few days. People didn’t question it, in the school. They were brothers after all.
Peter kept having to remember that. They were brothers. But, when he stood outside Nathan’s door and raised his fist to knock, he hesitated. When he entered it would be the same old routine; his brother would bitch, then accept, and then they’d… But they’re brothers. And there’s a girl named Molly who wears sweaters and glasses that likes him, and he should be working on that. He doesn’t want to, though. He’d rather be here, with Nathan, in a dorm room with cement walls and tiled floors that feels more like a prison than a temporary home.
Perhaps that is, after all, what they live in. A prison not of material but of the mind. Of the flesh. He cannot shake himself of this feeling, not even when he finally gathers the courage, the very will, to knock. Nathan answered rather slowly, slower than he usually did at any rate. Peter felt a momentary regret, for what if he had interrupted late night studying for an exam the next day, or perhaps an illicit liason with the dean’s daughter? But Nathan wasn’t likely to answer the door at all then, and he remembered that Nathan (for all he was the good student) was quite in favor of being interrupted at study. Interrupted from his musing by the startling appearance of Nathan. He looked unkempt and rumpled, not the product of hurried passion but rather from several nights of restless wandering.
“Nathan,” said Peter slowly. “Are you quite alright?”
“No. I’m not quite sure. At least-” And it was then that Nathan seemed to realize that he was actually opening up, something he never quite did, and he shook his head and frowned at Peter. “What are you doing here, Pete? Did you have another fight with Dad, because right now I can’t deal with your psychobabble father bullshit.”
Peter looked at his brother for a moment, only slightly disapproving, before making his way into the dorm room. It was, like Nathan, not like its usual self. Messy, papers scattered everywhere, the bed unmade. Unmade, he thought, just like everything was. There was seldom anything in their lives that went truly the way it was supposed to. He heard the door shut and lock behind him, another one of their little rituals when he came to visit; although Nathan would be loathe to admit it, he didn’t want anyone intruding on his time with Peter. He treasured every moment, not that he would say it aloud (or otherwise), and it wouldn’t be good for the family if anyone found out that they didn’t just talk.
“I just worry,” he said. “A lot. I don’t think anything I’ll ever do will be enough.”
He felt Nathan’s arm twine around his neck, felt a soft press of lips on the skin there, and the pressure of his brother’s body against his back. It was, he thought, as it had always been. As it always would be.
“It will always be enough for me,” Nathan whispered.
Peter hoped so, he really did. For, if what he did wouldn’t be enough for his father, then it would have to do that it would be good enough for Nathan. In fact, while it had always mattered a great deal to him what his father thought, it meant a great deal more what Nathan thought. If he was honest with himself, that is. But, he didn’t have to be. Not yet, anyway. He was only eighteen, after all, a senior in high school. He didn’t have to be honest yet. He had plenty of time to grow, with himself and with others. For all he knew, this thing with Nathan could just be a fluke of nature, just something to pass the time. But, if he was honest with himself, he would know that it wasn’t. It was a touch of destiny.
They had no idea what was to come; the lies that would be revealed, the abilities, the tragedy. They didn’t know that they would have to save the world. All they knew was this one moment, where they knew each other surely as they knew that the earth was a sphere. Although, thought Peter as Nathan backed him toward the bed, the more things change the more they stay the same.
FIN.
Summary: Peter had quickly discovered that Nathan was the only one he could run to.
Word count: 1,066.
Disclaimer: The names of all characters contained herein are the property of Tim Kring and NBC. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.
Rating/warnings: T/PG-13, just to be safe.
Author’s Note: Featuring teen!Peter and college!Nathan. Written for the prompt Peter Petrelli / Nathan Petrelli / hold me close. For
lucentliz .
He had gotten into a fight with his father. Well, to be entirely precise, yet another fight with his father. Those seemed to be occurring with an alarming frequency lately, and while they seemed to have an underlying theme (Peter not living up to the Petrelli name, for the most part, with a side of “you disappoint me”) he found himself wondering what he did wrong. He did, after all, try his best. He wanted to make his father proud, of course; every son does. He just didn’t want to be a lawyer, or a politician. He didn’t want to lose his soul in the process of becoming great. Peter promised himself he would be great, someday. Even if his father said he would be a failure, he would be great. (A great failure, maybe, he thought wryly, but great nonetheless.)
Nathan was in college by this time, an Ivy League school of course-the Petrelli name demanded nothing less. Even if the oldest boy hadn’t had the grades to get in, Peter suspected that his father would’ve adjusted things so that he could. A hefty donation, perhaps, or a new wing added to the library, or renovations much needed. Something of that nature. Quantity over quality. Nathan wouldn’t have known, but he would’ve suspected. That was always his way, not that he would admit that he actually had a ‘way’.
And, as they were brothers, and Nathan the oldest, Peter would often turn to him with problems. He didn’t like feeling beholden to anybody, especially his brother; but it was Nathan, after all, and while he didn’t want Peter around at first (he had exams, loads of homework, girls, and who knew what else to deal with) there was that tiny little thing where they were the other’s world entire. Just before Nathan would tell Peter to fuck off, he would remember that, shrug his shoulders in defeat, and invite him to stay in his dorm room. For the night, or even for a few days. People didn’t question it, in the school. They were brothers after all.
Peter kept having to remember that. They were brothers. But, when he stood outside Nathan’s door and raised his fist to knock, he hesitated. When he entered it would be the same old routine; his brother would bitch, then accept, and then they’d… But they’re brothers. And there’s a girl named Molly who wears sweaters and glasses that likes him, and he should be working on that. He doesn’t want to, though. He’d rather be here, with Nathan, in a dorm room with cement walls and tiled floors that feels more like a prison than a temporary home.
Perhaps that is, after all, what they live in. A prison not of material but of the mind. Of the flesh. He cannot shake himself of this feeling, not even when he finally gathers the courage, the very will, to knock. Nathan answered rather slowly, slower than he usually did at any rate. Peter felt a momentary regret, for what if he had interrupted late night studying for an exam the next day, or perhaps an illicit liason with the dean’s daughter? But Nathan wasn’t likely to answer the door at all then, and he remembered that Nathan (for all he was the good student) was quite in favor of being interrupted at study. Interrupted from his musing by the startling appearance of Nathan. He looked unkempt and rumpled, not the product of hurried passion but rather from several nights of restless wandering.
“Nathan,” said Peter slowly. “Are you quite alright?”
“No. I’m not quite sure. At least-” And it was then that Nathan seemed to realize that he was actually opening up, something he never quite did, and he shook his head and frowned at Peter. “What are you doing here, Pete? Did you have another fight with Dad, because right now I can’t deal with your psychobabble father bullshit.”
Peter looked at his brother for a moment, only slightly disapproving, before making his way into the dorm room. It was, like Nathan, not like its usual self. Messy, papers scattered everywhere, the bed unmade. Unmade, he thought, just like everything was. There was seldom anything in their lives that went truly the way it was supposed to. He heard the door shut and lock behind him, another one of their little rituals when he came to visit; although Nathan would be loathe to admit it, he didn’t want anyone intruding on his time with Peter. He treasured every moment, not that he would say it aloud (or otherwise), and it wouldn’t be good for the family if anyone found out that they didn’t just talk.
“I just worry,” he said. “A lot. I don’t think anything I’ll ever do will be enough.”
He felt Nathan’s arm twine around his neck, felt a soft press of lips on the skin there, and the pressure of his brother’s body against his back. It was, he thought, as it had always been. As it always would be.
“It will always be enough for me,” Nathan whispered.
Peter hoped so, he really did. For, if what he did wouldn’t be enough for his father, then it would have to do that it would be good enough for Nathan. In fact, while it had always mattered a great deal to him what his father thought, it meant a great deal more what Nathan thought. If he was honest with himself, that is. But, he didn’t have to be. Not yet, anyway. He was only eighteen, after all, a senior in high school. He didn’t have to be honest yet. He had plenty of time to grow, with himself and with others. For all he knew, this thing with Nathan could just be a fluke of nature, just something to pass the time. But, if he was honest with himself, he would know that it wasn’t. It was a touch of destiny.
They had no idea what was to come; the lies that would be revealed, the abilities, the tragedy. They didn’t know that they would have to save the world. All they knew was this one moment, where they knew each other surely as they knew that the earth was a sphere. Although, thought Peter as Nathan backed him toward the bed, the more things change the more they stay the same.
FIN.