Power Play - 1 - Thickening the Thread
Title: Thickening the Thread
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Noah/Nathan
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,440
Spoilers: Through 3x17, “Cold Wars”
Disclaimer Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
Author’s Notes: Takes place during 3x15, “Trust and Blood”
Summary: Noah’s trust of Nathan hangs by a very thin thread.
Noah ducked into the senator’s tent, wiping the sweat from his face with a dusty sleeve. It was well after midnight, and he’d been up for close to thirty-six hours. Between the plane crash, round-up, dealing with Claire, the endless snafus, and Peter’s escape on top of everything, he was close to being dead on his feet. And he still had paperwork to do. Petrelli’s tent was the only one approximating a private place to work, as the command tents were stuffed with Danko’s overenthusiastic hunters.
He leaned his rifle against the desk and opened the heavy outer vest so he could try to cool down in the warm Arkansas night. The side of his face was incredibly sore, and he was bruised from head to toe from the crash. It was a miracle that everyone hadn’t died during Claire’s rescue attempt. What had she been thinking? Though, to be fair, the actual crash was Peter’s fault. At least Claire had that much going for her. Danko would have shot her otherwise, senator father or no…
There was a faint rustling at the tent flap, and Noah looked up just long enough to determine it was Nathan, before going back to trying to find his third or fourth wind.
“I wanted to thank you,” Nathan said, his voice quiet and low, a contrast to all the yelling that had been going on today. Noah didn’t answer, and waited for Nathan to clarify. In his mind, Nathan had a lot to thank him for. Keeping the damage and death to a minimum, keeping Danko from going off the rails, keeping Claire safe (that was obvious, and Noah would have done that before and above anything, but Nathan needed to acknowledge that too), and not killing Peter.
“For my brother. For our daughter,” Nathan clarified, taking a few steps further in and holding out a bottle of water. Noah longingly thought of the scotch he knew Nathan had tucked away somewhere, but tired as he was, one drink would knock him out for days. He instead took the water and fished around in his pocket for his emergency store of painkillers, swallowing a few with a grimace.
“You were just damn lucky Danko doesn’t know my shooting record,” Noah said pointedly. “You saw I had Peter, so Danko definitely did. He just thought I had shaky hands and might have accidentally blown your brains out in front of witnesses.”
Noah sat down on an equipment case and rested his elbows on his knees, while Nathan sat on the edge of the desk.
“And I appreciate that,” Nathan said levelly. “Even more so that you were able to impress Claire with the danger.”
Noah felt a spike of heat in his brain as his temper frayed to the breaking point. Lunging up from the case, he towered over Petrelli, sparks of fury in his eyes.
“If your hunters had any kind of brains they would have never involved Claire in this in the first place. I made price of involvement very clear when I signed on. You and Danko ignored my warnings, and instead of a dozen people in a secure facility we have ten dead men from this crash alone, not to mention the team that went after Sylar!” Noah wanted to yell, but didn’t, instead speaking in a harsh whisper that still conveyed all of his rage. Nathan jerked back a little in startlement, but controlled it quickly.
“We’re keeping this operation as contained as possible, but every time we need funding or additional men, we’re going to have other cooks in the kitchen. I’m sorry, but it’s inevitable if we’re going to have any chance of success,” Nathan said pointedly.
“I told you everything I knew, twenty years’ experience in this kind of operation, twenty years in which we never had an incident of this magnitude. If you’re going to keep bringing in more commandos to wave their dicks around, no one is going to be safe. Not your brother, not you, and not Claire,” Noah said. “If anything happens to her Petrelli, anything like this happens to her again, and you’re going to be seeing what one person can do to an operation.”
Noah owed Nathan just enough to warn him of the sword dangling above his head, and the fragility of the thread that held it up.
Nathan swallowed hard and looked down, a sign of submission that pacified Noah’s rage slightly. He sat back down on the case and took off his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose.
“What can I do to make it up to you?” Nathan asked.
“Make certain that Danko keeps his hands off of our daughter,” Noah said. “She hates us both now, and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to control her.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t control her-.”
“Maybe once you’ve raised a headstrong teenaged girl you can give me parenting advice Petrelli. How are your sons anyway?”
Nathan was silent for a second, and Noah could feel a headache throbbing at his temples to complement the rest of his aches and pains.
“That was low, Noah.”
“You’re practically parading Claire around as important to you to gain her protection as your daughter. But you don’t know her. You never raised her. You don’t know what she can do, you’ve never seen her do what I did. I watched my Claire go back into our house when Sprague was burning the place to the ground so she could stop him. I watched her walk out as a charred corpse. I saw her ready to shoot Peter to save New York last year, before you swooped in to save the day,” Noah said, eyes shut as he tried to ease the pain in his head.
He heard Nathan stand up and walk next to him, feeling surprisingly strong, cool fingers begin to rub at his hot, sore neck. Noah didn’t particularly care; at this point he was so tired and sore he would have let Sylar give him a neck massage.
“She gets that courage from you,” Nathan said.
“And she gets the stubbornness from both of us,” Noah conceded. Nathan snorted in amused agreement, and Noah let his head drop a little more.
“You look like hell, Noah.”
“Surprisingly, I feel like hell, Nathan,” Noah snapped back. “Assuming you didn’t take the short route here, you arrived in an air-conditioned truck from traveling in an air-conditioned plane from your air-conditioned office, while I arrived here in a crashing cargo plane and have spent the past twenty-four hours running around trying to salvage this entire fiasco. If you’re just here to offer empty thanks and pick arguments, then get the hell out so I can finish my paperwork.”
Nathan fell silent again, but his fingers didn’t stop soothing Noah’s wire-tight muscles. There was a shifting movement, and Nathan had positioned himself in front of Noah, his leg between Noah’s thighs, pressing in lightly over his crotch.
Shit, Noah thought faintly. Nathan would wait until he was feeling vulnerable and tired and alone to spring this on him. He didn’t move, he felt too tired to move, as Nathan shifted his leg slightly, causing a teasing friction over the suit pants Noah was still incongruously wearing with his commando vest. Nathan’s fingers dug in deeper, and Noah felt himself relax involuntarily, his head dropping to rest against Nathan’s stomach.
This hadn’t been the first time Nathan had tried to finagle his way into something he shouldn’t have. It hadn’t been the first time he’d tried to use Noah’s weaknesses against him. Like all politicians, Nathan understood that something was never given for nothing, but he tried to make certain that he always came out with the better end of the deal. Noah had let him get the upper hand only once, and while he didn’t regret it, it did annoy him that he’d missed his old partner, the “one of us, one of them” creed so much that he’d let Nathan take advantage.
Noah could see Nathan’s arousal quite easily from his position, and sighed. He had gone through far too much today to deal with Nathan’s needs right now. Even though Nathan’s hands never stopped trying to soothe this neck, and the faint teasing friction of his leg against Noah’s crotch never let up, Noah knew Nathan was demanding more.
Too damn bad. Noah had had a very bad day.
Noah reached up, gently sliding one hand up Nathan’s chest, feeling the heat of his skin through his five hundred dollar shirt. Nathan sighed at the feeling and Noah could feel it against the top of his head, a strange, vulnerable contact. Siding his hand over, Noah deftly wove his fingers through Nathan’s tie… and then yanked hard, abruptly bringing Nathan to his knees.
Bringing his other hand up, Noah caught it in Nathan’s hair, making Petrelli look up at him while he regained his breath and dignity.
“Sucking you off is not my idea of an apology from you,” Noah said firmly. Nathan quickly loosened his own tie, but didn’t drop his eyes. “I think you owe me some appreciation, Senator.”
He watched Nathan swallow in acquiescence, and his eyes darken. Noah let go of Nathan’s hair, and sucked in a surprised breath when Nathan’s hands slid up Noah’s inner thighs. It was unexpectedly fast; Noah had thought Nathan would try to find another angle to get what he wanted, but Nathan’s hands were smoothly unbuckling Noah’s pants, slipping inside, and seeking out Noah’s hardness with no hesitation.
Noah hissed when Nathan touched him; he’d been half-hard from Nathan’s earlier teasing, but it didn’t take too long to get him the rest of the way. Just a few skilled strokes and Nathan had all of him in his hand, sliding him through his grip easily.
“I thought you were exhausted,” Nathan said, arching one eyebrow. Noah took that as a challenge.
“I’m tired, not dead,” he said. And now he wasn’t even feeling that tired. His third wind was slowly starting to come back. “More, Petrelli.”
Nathan only slowly stroked him, glaring up at him with those hooded eyes.
“Nathan,” Noah warned, and had to stifle a gasp when Nathan bent his proud back to slide Noah into his mouth. He had no idea where Nathan had come by such extraordinary skill, but the roll of his tongue over the head, the quick probes at the end, and the deep slide into the depths of his throat were amazing.
Noah’s hand was resting in Nathan’s hair again, but he didn’t try to direct him; clearly Nathan knew exactly what he was doing.
“God…” Noah breathed. “Nathan…”
Nathan swallowed around him, a squeezing sensation that nearly made Noah gasp, before stilling and slowly drawing back. Noah opened eyes he didn’t remember closing at the loss of feeling, and watched Nathan stroke him slowly, his grip stronger than he’d expected.
“Thank you for Claire. Thank you for Peter,” Nathan said, the sincerity in his voice very clear. “I didn’t come here to fight, Noah. I owe you for everything you’ve done for me. You understand why I’m doing this. No one else really does.”
Noah knew, as deeply as Nathan did, why it had to happen this way. Every time there was an incident with a special, there was more of a chance for the public to figure out what was going on and react violently. Better all the specials were captured and imprisoned now, to avoid a genocide and civil war later. Better ten men die now than a thousand later.
“I owe you,” Nathan repeated, and slowly began to unbutton his shirt with one hand, the other still stroking, keeping Noah hard.
Noah only watched for long moments, watching the expanse of smooth, muscled skin being revealed, watching the tie sliding from Nathan’s neck, before thrusting slightly, reminding Nathan of his task. Nathan bent down again, sliding Noah deep, forcing a groan out of him. Noah’s head fell back, and his hand carded through Nathan’s hair, crunching through the thick gel.
A hard tug on his cock brought Noah’s head back up, along with a clever tongue sliding tantalizingly along the ridge along the bottom of his cock. He met Nathan’s eyes, and realized that was what he wanted, to be watched and admired. A shudder ran up Noah’s spine as Nathan hummed slightly, bringing a hard surge that almost overwhelmed his control. Each stroke was more purposeful now, faster and harder, wanting to draw as much pleasure out of each motion as possible.
Noah felt a groan rising out of the pit of his stomach as Nathan hollowed his checks and took him deep, to the root, the heat sparking Noah’s orgasm in a powerful rush. Nathan swallowed the first few spurts and then pulled away, holding Noah’s cock in his hand. Spurts of white semen splashed on Nathan’s checks, then on his neck, and finally that smooth chest as he directed Noah to mark him.
Breathing hard, slowly calming himself, Noah noticed than Nathan had a growing damp spot on the front of his own pants. Since Nathan’s hands had been on Noah the entire time, the implications were surprising… Noah took himself in hand and covered himself back up quickly before reaching out to Nathan, still kneeling.
Tentatively he touched the side of Nathan face, feeling the slippery feel of his cum, and began to smooth it away. First against the stubble of Nathan’s jaw, then the skin of his throat, then the smooth planes of his chest, until all evidence of it was gone. Nathan tensed once when Noah’s hands brushed over a hard nipple, and Noah paused, watching Nathan jerk his hips slightly, the damp spot on his pants growing. Breathing heavily, more affected than he wanted to admit, Noah turned to find a rag to wipe off his hands. Nathan only stood and buttoned his shirt with slightly shaking hands, reaffixing his tie in a practiced motion.
“Thank you,” Nathan said, his voice oddly soft. Then it hardened again in his usual businesslike manner. “I hate to kick you out Bennet, but I need to change into a fresh suit before I go back to D.C. After that, the tent’s all yours. I’ll make sure Danko’s men don’t bother you.”
Noah stood, hearing all the meanings in Nathan’s words, and nodded shortly.
“I’ll make certain the job gets done, Senator,” Noah said. Leaving Nathan standing in the tent, sword-straight and in control once again, Noah walked into the warm Arkansas night.
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Next Part: Sharing Strength
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Noah/Nathan
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,440
Spoilers: Through 3x17, “Cold Wars”
Disclaimer Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
Author’s Notes: Takes place during 3x15, “Trust and Blood”
Summary: Noah’s trust of Nathan hangs by a very thin thread.
Noah ducked into the senator’s tent, wiping the sweat from his face with a dusty sleeve. It was well after midnight, and he’d been up for close to thirty-six hours. Between the plane crash, round-up, dealing with Claire, the endless snafus, and Peter’s escape on top of everything, he was close to being dead on his feet. And he still had paperwork to do. Petrelli’s tent was the only one approximating a private place to work, as the command tents were stuffed with Danko’s overenthusiastic hunters.
He leaned his rifle against the desk and opened the heavy outer vest so he could try to cool down in the warm Arkansas night. The side of his face was incredibly sore, and he was bruised from head to toe from the crash. It was a miracle that everyone hadn’t died during Claire’s rescue attempt. What had she been thinking? Though, to be fair, the actual crash was Peter’s fault. At least Claire had that much going for her. Danko would have shot her otherwise, senator father or no…
There was a faint rustling at the tent flap, and Noah looked up just long enough to determine it was Nathan, before going back to trying to find his third or fourth wind.
“I wanted to thank you,” Nathan said, his voice quiet and low, a contrast to all the yelling that had been going on today. Noah didn’t answer, and waited for Nathan to clarify. In his mind, Nathan had a lot to thank him for. Keeping the damage and death to a minimum, keeping Danko from going off the rails, keeping Claire safe (that was obvious, and Noah would have done that before and above anything, but Nathan needed to acknowledge that too), and not killing Peter.
“For my brother. For our daughter,” Nathan clarified, taking a few steps further in and holding out a bottle of water. Noah longingly thought of the scotch he knew Nathan had tucked away somewhere, but tired as he was, one drink would knock him out for days. He instead took the water and fished around in his pocket for his emergency store of painkillers, swallowing a few with a grimace.
“You were just damn lucky Danko doesn’t know my shooting record,” Noah said pointedly. “You saw I had Peter, so Danko definitely did. He just thought I had shaky hands and might have accidentally blown your brains out in front of witnesses.”
Noah sat down on an equipment case and rested his elbows on his knees, while Nathan sat on the edge of the desk.
“And I appreciate that,” Nathan said levelly. “Even more so that you were able to impress Claire with the danger.”
Noah felt a spike of heat in his brain as his temper frayed to the breaking point. Lunging up from the case, he towered over Petrelli, sparks of fury in his eyes.
“If your hunters had any kind of brains they would have never involved Claire in this in the first place. I made price of involvement very clear when I signed on. You and Danko ignored my warnings, and instead of a dozen people in a secure facility we have ten dead men from this crash alone, not to mention the team that went after Sylar!” Noah wanted to yell, but didn’t, instead speaking in a harsh whisper that still conveyed all of his rage. Nathan jerked back a little in startlement, but controlled it quickly.
“We’re keeping this operation as contained as possible, but every time we need funding or additional men, we’re going to have other cooks in the kitchen. I’m sorry, but it’s inevitable if we’re going to have any chance of success,” Nathan said pointedly.
“I told you everything I knew, twenty years’ experience in this kind of operation, twenty years in which we never had an incident of this magnitude. If you’re going to keep bringing in more commandos to wave their dicks around, no one is going to be safe. Not your brother, not you, and not Claire,” Noah said. “If anything happens to her Petrelli, anything like this happens to her again, and you’re going to be seeing what one person can do to an operation.”
Noah owed Nathan just enough to warn him of the sword dangling above his head, and the fragility of the thread that held it up.
Nathan swallowed hard and looked down, a sign of submission that pacified Noah’s rage slightly. He sat back down on the case and took off his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose.
“What can I do to make it up to you?” Nathan asked.
“Make certain that Danko keeps his hands off of our daughter,” Noah said. “She hates us both now, and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to control her.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t control her-.”
“Maybe once you’ve raised a headstrong teenaged girl you can give me parenting advice Petrelli. How are your sons anyway?”
Nathan was silent for a second, and Noah could feel a headache throbbing at his temples to complement the rest of his aches and pains.
“That was low, Noah.”
“You’re practically parading Claire around as important to you to gain her protection as your daughter. But you don’t know her. You never raised her. You don’t know what she can do, you’ve never seen her do what I did. I watched my Claire go back into our house when Sprague was burning the place to the ground so she could stop him. I watched her walk out as a charred corpse. I saw her ready to shoot Peter to save New York last year, before you swooped in to save the day,” Noah said, eyes shut as he tried to ease the pain in his head.
He heard Nathan stand up and walk next to him, feeling surprisingly strong, cool fingers begin to rub at his hot, sore neck. Noah didn’t particularly care; at this point he was so tired and sore he would have let Sylar give him a neck massage.
“She gets that courage from you,” Nathan said.
“And she gets the stubbornness from both of us,” Noah conceded. Nathan snorted in amused agreement, and Noah let his head drop a little more.
“You look like hell, Noah.”
“Surprisingly, I feel like hell, Nathan,” Noah snapped back. “Assuming you didn’t take the short route here, you arrived in an air-conditioned truck from traveling in an air-conditioned plane from your air-conditioned office, while I arrived here in a crashing cargo plane and have spent the past twenty-four hours running around trying to salvage this entire fiasco. If you’re just here to offer empty thanks and pick arguments, then get the hell out so I can finish my paperwork.”
Nathan fell silent again, but his fingers didn’t stop soothing Noah’s wire-tight muscles. There was a shifting movement, and Nathan had positioned himself in front of Noah, his leg between Noah’s thighs, pressing in lightly over his crotch.
Shit, Noah thought faintly. Nathan would wait until he was feeling vulnerable and tired and alone to spring this on him. He didn’t move, he felt too tired to move, as Nathan shifted his leg slightly, causing a teasing friction over the suit pants Noah was still incongruously wearing with his commando vest. Nathan’s fingers dug in deeper, and Noah felt himself relax involuntarily, his head dropping to rest against Nathan’s stomach.
This hadn’t been the first time Nathan had tried to finagle his way into something he shouldn’t have. It hadn’t been the first time he’d tried to use Noah’s weaknesses against him. Like all politicians, Nathan understood that something was never given for nothing, but he tried to make certain that he always came out with the better end of the deal. Noah had let him get the upper hand only once, and while he didn’t regret it, it did annoy him that he’d missed his old partner, the “one of us, one of them” creed so much that he’d let Nathan take advantage.
Noah could see Nathan’s arousal quite easily from his position, and sighed. He had gone through far too much today to deal with Nathan’s needs right now. Even though Nathan’s hands never stopped trying to soothe this neck, and the faint teasing friction of his leg against Noah’s crotch never let up, Noah knew Nathan was demanding more.
Too damn bad. Noah had had a very bad day.
Noah reached up, gently sliding one hand up Nathan’s chest, feeling the heat of his skin through his five hundred dollar shirt. Nathan sighed at the feeling and Noah could feel it against the top of his head, a strange, vulnerable contact. Siding his hand over, Noah deftly wove his fingers through Nathan’s tie… and then yanked hard, abruptly bringing Nathan to his knees.
Bringing his other hand up, Noah caught it in Nathan’s hair, making Petrelli look up at him while he regained his breath and dignity.
“Sucking you off is not my idea of an apology from you,” Noah said firmly. Nathan quickly loosened his own tie, but didn’t drop his eyes. “I think you owe me some appreciation, Senator.”
He watched Nathan swallow in acquiescence, and his eyes darken. Noah let go of Nathan’s hair, and sucked in a surprised breath when Nathan’s hands slid up Noah’s inner thighs. It was unexpectedly fast; Noah had thought Nathan would try to find another angle to get what he wanted, but Nathan’s hands were smoothly unbuckling Noah’s pants, slipping inside, and seeking out Noah’s hardness with no hesitation.
Noah hissed when Nathan touched him; he’d been half-hard from Nathan’s earlier teasing, but it didn’t take too long to get him the rest of the way. Just a few skilled strokes and Nathan had all of him in his hand, sliding him through his grip easily.
“I thought you were exhausted,” Nathan said, arching one eyebrow. Noah took that as a challenge.
“I’m tired, not dead,” he said. And now he wasn’t even feeling that tired. His third wind was slowly starting to come back. “More, Petrelli.”
Nathan only slowly stroked him, glaring up at him with those hooded eyes.
“Nathan,” Noah warned, and had to stifle a gasp when Nathan bent his proud back to slide Noah into his mouth. He had no idea where Nathan had come by such extraordinary skill, but the roll of his tongue over the head, the quick probes at the end, and the deep slide into the depths of his throat were amazing.
Noah’s hand was resting in Nathan’s hair again, but he didn’t try to direct him; clearly Nathan knew exactly what he was doing.
“God…” Noah breathed. “Nathan…”
Nathan swallowed around him, a squeezing sensation that nearly made Noah gasp, before stilling and slowly drawing back. Noah opened eyes he didn’t remember closing at the loss of feeling, and watched Nathan stroke him slowly, his grip stronger than he’d expected.
“Thank you for Claire. Thank you for Peter,” Nathan said, the sincerity in his voice very clear. “I didn’t come here to fight, Noah. I owe you for everything you’ve done for me. You understand why I’m doing this. No one else really does.”
Noah knew, as deeply as Nathan did, why it had to happen this way. Every time there was an incident with a special, there was more of a chance for the public to figure out what was going on and react violently. Better all the specials were captured and imprisoned now, to avoid a genocide and civil war later. Better ten men die now than a thousand later.
“I owe you,” Nathan repeated, and slowly began to unbutton his shirt with one hand, the other still stroking, keeping Noah hard.
Noah only watched for long moments, watching the expanse of smooth, muscled skin being revealed, watching the tie sliding from Nathan’s neck, before thrusting slightly, reminding Nathan of his task. Nathan bent down again, sliding Noah deep, forcing a groan out of him. Noah’s head fell back, and his hand carded through Nathan’s hair, crunching through the thick gel.
A hard tug on his cock brought Noah’s head back up, along with a clever tongue sliding tantalizingly along the ridge along the bottom of his cock. He met Nathan’s eyes, and realized that was what he wanted, to be watched and admired. A shudder ran up Noah’s spine as Nathan hummed slightly, bringing a hard surge that almost overwhelmed his control. Each stroke was more purposeful now, faster and harder, wanting to draw as much pleasure out of each motion as possible.
Noah felt a groan rising out of the pit of his stomach as Nathan hollowed his checks and took him deep, to the root, the heat sparking Noah’s orgasm in a powerful rush. Nathan swallowed the first few spurts and then pulled away, holding Noah’s cock in his hand. Spurts of white semen splashed on Nathan’s checks, then on his neck, and finally that smooth chest as he directed Noah to mark him.
Breathing hard, slowly calming himself, Noah noticed than Nathan had a growing damp spot on the front of his own pants. Since Nathan’s hands had been on Noah the entire time, the implications were surprising… Noah took himself in hand and covered himself back up quickly before reaching out to Nathan, still kneeling.
Tentatively he touched the side of Nathan face, feeling the slippery feel of his cum, and began to smooth it away. First against the stubble of Nathan’s jaw, then the skin of his throat, then the smooth planes of his chest, until all evidence of it was gone. Nathan tensed once when Noah’s hands brushed over a hard nipple, and Noah paused, watching Nathan jerk his hips slightly, the damp spot on his pants growing. Breathing heavily, more affected than he wanted to admit, Noah turned to find a rag to wipe off his hands. Nathan only stood and buttoned his shirt with slightly shaking hands, reaffixing his tie in a practiced motion.
“Thank you,” Nathan said, his voice oddly soft. Then it hardened again in his usual businesslike manner. “I hate to kick you out Bennet, but I need to change into a fresh suit before I go back to D.C. After that, the tent’s all yours. I’ll make sure Danko’s men don’t bother you.”
Noah stood, hearing all the meanings in Nathan’s words, and nodded shortly.
“I’ll make certain the job gets done, Senator,” Noah said. Leaving Nathan standing in the tent, sword-straight and in control once again, Noah walked into the warm Arkansas night.
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Next Part: Sharing Strength