Heroes FIC: Pedagogy
I defaulted on fangirl brunch today, because going out in the driving wind and cold rain makes me so unhappy. So I stayed home and wrote fan fiction instead of cleaning. Although I did finish my taxes this weekend. I claim credit for that at least!
Title: Pedagogy
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Nathan/Peter
Rating: PG-13
Length: 600 words
Note: This turned out 100 hundred words too many for the 100 Touches challenge going on over at flyingpetrellis (which you should totally check out), so I'm posting it here.
Summary: Peter is a true Petrelli.
Pedagogy
By Lenore
"Come on," Peter coaxes. "You're my big brother. Aren't you supposed to teach me stuff?"
Nathan makes a skeptical face. "Not this. Whatever happened to Marcie Wilkins? I thought she had a crush on you. Learn from her."
Peter ducks his head, hair falling into his face. "I tried. She laughed at me." He glances sideways at his brother. "Please?"
Nathan lets out a put-upon sigh, but he doesn't say no. "It's really not that complicated. You just need a little self-restraint. Don't grab her or use your tongue like a battering ram." He adds dryly, "Pretend you're not a horny sixteen year old."
Peter tugs at Nathan's sleeve. "Show me."
"You're a pain sometimes, you know that, Pete?" Still, he doesn't leave. "Pay attention." Nathan cups Peter's jaw, not gently, but the touch of his lips is in sharp contrast, chaste and warm, tender even. He murmurs, "Softly."
"Like this?" Peter fumbles his mouth against his brother's.
Nathan circles his thumb over Peter's cheek. "Yeah, and then slowly--"
Breath on his lips, and Peter curls his hand around Nathan's shoulder and closes his eyes. Nathan traces the inside of Peter's lip, and Peter darts out his tongue to meet him.
"Read the response, that's how you'll know when to--"
The words tickle, and Peter grabs tight to Nathan's jacket, and Nathan takes his own advice, reads the invitation, hand curving along the back of Peter's neck, pulling him into the next kiss, less pedagogy and more heat.
Nathan's body feels solid and warm and dizzyingly real beneath his clothes, and Peter presses against him. Just a little shift of their weight, and they'll tip over onto the bed. Just a little shift, and everything will be different.
Nathan's hands move restlessly over Peter, touching his face, sliding up his arms, fingers dipping beneath his shirt, skittering across his back.
Peter pushes more insistently into the touch and murmurs "Nathan" and clings fiercely. At the sound of his name, Nathan tenses, and then his hands abruptly change mood, palms flat against Peter's chest, elbows implacably locked. He snaps to his feet, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and Peter doesn't flinch, as a matter of pride, not because he doesn't feel the slap of the gesture.
"I've got to get back to the city," Nathan says, all business. "You should give Marcie a call. I don't think you're going to have to worry about her laughing anymore."
Peter shrugs and doesn't look up from the floor. "Yeah. I might do that."
"I'll see you next week." The door to Peter's room closes quietly after him.
Peter lets out his breath and flops back onto the bed and stares up at the ceiling. His blood feels too close to the surface, the sound of it in his ears making him unbearably restless. He grabs for the phone and says "hey" when Marcie answers.
He can almost hear her blinking. "I didn't think you were going to call."
"Yeah. Sorry. I, uh-- My parents aren't here. Want to come over?"
"I don't know, Peter."
"Please?"
"Well--"
Peter knows a thing or two about reading responses himself, and he lets his voice slide low, "I'll do that thing you like."
"I'll be there in ten minutes," Marcie says and quickly hangs up.
Peter checks his supply of condoms, strokes a hand over his hard cock. Marcie will suck him before she even has her bra off, and then he'll eat her out, and they'll fuck. The usual, and it will feel good.
It just won't be enough.
Title: Pedagogy
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Nathan/Peter
Rating: PG-13
Length: 600 words
Note: This turned out 100 hundred words too many for the 100 Touches challenge going on over at flyingpetrellis (which you should totally check out), so I'm posting it here.
Summary: Peter is a true Petrelli.
Pedagogy
By Lenore
"Come on," Peter coaxes. "You're my big brother. Aren't you supposed to teach me stuff?"
Nathan makes a skeptical face. "Not this. Whatever happened to Marcie Wilkins? I thought she had a crush on you. Learn from her."
Peter ducks his head, hair falling into his face. "I tried. She laughed at me." He glances sideways at his brother. "Please?"
Nathan lets out a put-upon sigh, but he doesn't say no. "It's really not that complicated. You just need a little self-restraint. Don't grab her or use your tongue like a battering ram." He adds dryly, "Pretend you're not a horny sixteen year old."
Peter tugs at Nathan's sleeve. "Show me."
"You're a pain sometimes, you know that, Pete?" Still, he doesn't leave. "Pay attention." Nathan cups Peter's jaw, not gently, but the touch of his lips is in sharp contrast, chaste and warm, tender even. He murmurs, "Softly."
"Like this?" Peter fumbles his mouth against his brother's.
Nathan circles his thumb over Peter's cheek. "Yeah, and then slowly--"
Breath on his lips, and Peter curls his hand around Nathan's shoulder and closes his eyes. Nathan traces the inside of Peter's lip, and Peter darts out his tongue to meet him.
"Read the response, that's how you'll know when to--"
The words tickle, and Peter grabs tight to Nathan's jacket, and Nathan takes his own advice, reads the invitation, hand curving along the back of Peter's neck, pulling him into the next kiss, less pedagogy and more heat.
Nathan's body feels solid and warm and dizzyingly real beneath his clothes, and Peter presses against him. Just a little shift of their weight, and they'll tip over onto the bed. Just a little shift, and everything will be different.
Nathan's hands move restlessly over Peter, touching his face, sliding up his arms, fingers dipping beneath his shirt, skittering across his back.
Peter pushes more insistently into the touch and murmurs "Nathan" and clings fiercely. At the sound of his name, Nathan tenses, and then his hands abruptly change mood, palms flat against Peter's chest, elbows implacably locked. He snaps to his feet, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and Peter doesn't flinch, as a matter of pride, not because he doesn't feel the slap of the gesture.
"I've got to get back to the city," Nathan says, all business. "You should give Marcie a call. I don't think you're going to have to worry about her laughing anymore."
Peter shrugs and doesn't look up from the floor. "Yeah. I might do that."
"I'll see you next week." The door to Peter's room closes quietly after him.
Peter lets out his breath and flops back onto the bed and stares up at the ceiling. His blood feels too close to the surface, the sound of it in his ears making him unbearably restless. He grabs for the phone and says "hey" when Marcie answers.
He can almost hear her blinking. "I didn't think you were going to call."
"Yeah. Sorry. I, uh-- My parents aren't here. Want to come over?"
"I don't know, Peter."
"Please?"
"Well--"
Peter knows a thing or two about reading responses himself, and he lets his voice slide low, "I'll do that thing you like."
"I'll be there in ten minutes," Marcie says and quickly hangs up.
Peter checks his supply of condoms, strokes a hand over his hard cock. Marcie will suck him before she even has her bra off, and then he'll eat her out, and they'll fuck. The usual, and it will feel good.
It just won't be enough.