Just Peter - PG-13 - Day 34
Title: Just Peter
Pairing: Nathan/Peter
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Day 34 for theyreitalian
A/n: Peter is approximately 16.
"Nathan," Angela said in hushed tones as she smiled and gave a short wave at an elderly woman across the room. "Where the hell is your brother?" She raised her champagne glass to her lips and sipped on the golden, bubbling liquid. "I really can't have him making a scene, not tonight. Be a dear and go make sure he stays out of the way."
"Sure Mom," Nathan smiled, leaning in to let Angela's lips graze his cheek, then excused himself from the party to go find Peter.
Half an hour later he still hadn't found where the little bastard was hiding. He wasn't in any of the usual spots - the roof, the pool house, the garden - and Nathan was just about to give up when he heard the sound of muffled voices and laughter coming from behind a couple of parked cars.
"Peter," Nathan called as he made his way around a stretch limousine. "What are you doing back here? Mom wants-" Nathan stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes fell upon Peter and three other teenage boys he didn't recognize, all surrounded by a haze of smoke. Peter was sitting on the ground, leaning against a white Lexus as one of the other kids passed him a joint.
"No," Nathan growled, stepping between them to yank the joint out of Peter's fingers and threw it to the ground, grinding it into the dirt with toe of his shoe. "Get up Peter. Now."
"Hey!" A short, blond kid shouted. "We just started that, asshole."
"And now you're done," Nathan replied gruffly. "I don't know who you are and I don't care. Just get the hell out of here before I call the cops."
"Nathan," Peter said, reaching out for him.
"No," Nathan shrugged him off. "I don't want to hear it. Just come on."
"Come on man, we were just-"
"I SAID LEAVE," Nathan roared, spinning around to face the punk blond kid. "If you're not out of my sight in five fucking seconds, I'm calling the cops. Got it?"
"Yeah man, yeah, we got it," One of the other kids mumbled and scrambled off the ground. "Come on Eric, lets just go man."
"Fine, whatever." Eric grumbled as he shouldered past Nathan and muttered, "You owe me, Pete."
"What-" Nathan snapped, grabbing the kid by the collar of his starched oxford shirt as he slammed him against an oak tree. "did you just say to him?"
"Ow man, that fucking hurt," Eric complained and rubbed the back of his head.
"Listen very carefully," Nathan continued slowly. "Peter owes you nothing. You brought this on my property and now I know your name, Eric. So I suggest you forget about what you think my brother might owe you or your little punk ass will be in juvie before you can say 'I was holding it for a friend.' Are we clear?'
Eric swallowed fearfully. "Yeah, man." His voice cracked. "We're clear."
"Tell Peter," Nathan said, tightening his grip on Eric's collar.
"It's cool Peter," Eric said to Peter who looked absolutely mortified. "We're cool."
"Good," Nathan said, immediately releasing his hands from Eric's collar. "I'm glad we could come to an agreement. Now get the hell away from me."
This time the three listened to Nathan, grabbing their coats as they gave Peter pitying looks and fled the scene. When they were out of sight, Peter turned to Nathan and glared at him through dilated, bloodshot eyes.
"Why did you have to do that?" He asked, pushing Nathan with both hands at his chest, barely moving Nathan an inch. "That was so embarrassing! You're such an asshole!"
"I'm an asshole?" Nathan snapped. "I'm not the idiot getting high behind a limo with a couple of hash heads during an extremely important dinner party for Dad. If things go right tonight, he'll be able to-"
"I don't care." Peter spat. "You don’t get it. I don't care about clients or money or image or any of the things you and Dad care about so much. I hate everyone in that fucking house, which is why I was out here, trying to forget that you all hate me too. Then you had to go and ruin that."
Nathan's chest constricted painfully as Peter turned away from him. He reached out and put a hand on Peter's shoulder, thankful when Peter didn't shrug him off. When he heard Peter sniffle his chest tightened even more.
"Pete," He said, fingers curling around Peter's shoulder, turning Peter around to face him. "No one hates you."
"Yes they do," Peter muttered, refusing to look at him. "I'm not like you. I'm not smart or strong or good looking, like you. I'm just Peter and that's not good enough for them."
"It's good enough for me," Nathan murmured, pulling Peter against him, wrapping his arms around Peter, enveloping him in a tight embrace. "Don't ever think I don't love you, Peter."
"Are you mad at me?" Peter asked against Nathan's chest, sniffling as hot, wet tears stained Nathan's shirt.
"For thinking that I hate you, yes," Nathan answered as he stroked Peter's shaggy, unkempt hair.
"Not for smoking?" Peter asked, pulling away from Nathan's chest to look up at him. "You seemed pretty pissed to me."
"Nah," Nathan replied, smiling as he brushed Peter's hair out of his eyes. "Everyone needs an escape now and then. I just don't want you buying from kids like that." Nathan's features softened and he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. "You need weed, you come to me. Okay?"
"Okay," Peter smiled and Nathan stilled as he felt Peter's wet, salty lips brush against his. Nathan told himself Peter was still high as his heart raced inside his chest. Peter didn't know what he was doing. He hadn't meant to kiss him, his brother. He was high, that's why he did it.
Nathan closed his eyes as he threaded is fingers through Peter's greasy hair. If only he'd been the one getting high with Peter, he'd have an excuse for kissing him back.
Pairing: Nathan/Peter
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Day 34 for theyreitalian
A/n: Peter is approximately 16.
"Nathan," Angela said in hushed tones as she smiled and gave a short wave at an elderly woman across the room. "Where the hell is your brother?" She raised her champagne glass to her lips and sipped on the golden, bubbling liquid. "I really can't have him making a scene, not tonight. Be a dear and go make sure he stays out of the way."
"Sure Mom," Nathan smiled, leaning in to let Angela's lips graze his cheek, then excused himself from the party to go find Peter.
Half an hour later he still hadn't found where the little bastard was hiding. He wasn't in any of the usual spots - the roof, the pool house, the garden - and Nathan was just about to give up when he heard the sound of muffled voices and laughter coming from behind a couple of parked cars.
"Peter," Nathan called as he made his way around a stretch limousine. "What are you doing back here? Mom wants-" Nathan stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes fell upon Peter and three other teenage boys he didn't recognize, all surrounded by a haze of smoke. Peter was sitting on the ground, leaning against a white Lexus as one of the other kids passed him a joint.
"No," Nathan growled, stepping between them to yank the joint out of Peter's fingers and threw it to the ground, grinding it into the dirt with toe of his shoe. "Get up Peter. Now."
"Hey!" A short, blond kid shouted. "We just started that, asshole."
"And now you're done," Nathan replied gruffly. "I don't know who you are and I don't care. Just get the hell out of here before I call the cops."
"Nathan," Peter said, reaching out for him.
"No," Nathan shrugged him off. "I don't want to hear it. Just come on."
"Come on man, we were just-"
"I SAID LEAVE," Nathan roared, spinning around to face the punk blond kid. "If you're not out of my sight in five fucking seconds, I'm calling the cops. Got it?"
"Yeah man, yeah, we got it," One of the other kids mumbled and scrambled off the ground. "Come on Eric, lets just go man."
"Fine, whatever." Eric grumbled as he shouldered past Nathan and muttered, "You owe me, Pete."
"What-" Nathan snapped, grabbing the kid by the collar of his starched oxford shirt as he slammed him against an oak tree. "did you just say to him?"
"Ow man, that fucking hurt," Eric complained and rubbed the back of his head.
"Listen very carefully," Nathan continued slowly. "Peter owes you nothing. You brought this on my property and now I know your name, Eric. So I suggest you forget about what you think my brother might owe you or your little punk ass will be in juvie before you can say 'I was holding it for a friend.' Are we clear?'
Eric swallowed fearfully. "Yeah, man." His voice cracked. "We're clear."
"Tell Peter," Nathan said, tightening his grip on Eric's collar.
"It's cool Peter," Eric said to Peter who looked absolutely mortified. "We're cool."
"Good," Nathan said, immediately releasing his hands from Eric's collar. "I'm glad we could come to an agreement. Now get the hell away from me."
This time the three listened to Nathan, grabbing their coats as they gave Peter pitying looks and fled the scene. When they were out of sight, Peter turned to Nathan and glared at him through dilated, bloodshot eyes.
"Why did you have to do that?" He asked, pushing Nathan with both hands at his chest, barely moving Nathan an inch. "That was so embarrassing! You're such an asshole!"
"I'm an asshole?" Nathan snapped. "I'm not the idiot getting high behind a limo with a couple of hash heads during an extremely important dinner party for Dad. If things go right tonight, he'll be able to-"
"I don't care." Peter spat. "You don’t get it. I don't care about clients or money or image or any of the things you and Dad care about so much. I hate everyone in that fucking house, which is why I was out here, trying to forget that you all hate me too. Then you had to go and ruin that."
Nathan's chest constricted painfully as Peter turned away from him. He reached out and put a hand on Peter's shoulder, thankful when Peter didn't shrug him off. When he heard Peter sniffle his chest tightened even more.
"Pete," He said, fingers curling around Peter's shoulder, turning Peter around to face him. "No one hates you."
"Yes they do," Peter muttered, refusing to look at him. "I'm not like you. I'm not smart or strong or good looking, like you. I'm just Peter and that's not good enough for them."
"It's good enough for me," Nathan murmured, pulling Peter against him, wrapping his arms around Peter, enveloping him in a tight embrace. "Don't ever think I don't love you, Peter."
"Are you mad at me?" Peter asked against Nathan's chest, sniffling as hot, wet tears stained Nathan's shirt.
"For thinking that I hate you, yes," Nathan answered as he stroked Peter's shaggy, unkempt hair.
"Not for smoking?" Peter asked, pulling away from Nathan's chest to look up at him. "You seemed pretty pissed to me."
"Nah," Nathan replied, smiling as he brushed Peter's hair out of his eyes. "Everyone needs an escape now and then. I just don't want you buying from kids like that." Nathan's features softened and he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. "You need weed, you come to me. Okay?"
"Okay," Peter smiled and Nathan stilled as he felt Peter's wet, salty lips brush against his. Nathan told himself Peter was still high as his heart raced inside his chest. Peter didn't know what he was doing. He hadn't meant to kiss him, his brother. He was high, that's why he did it.
Nathan closed his eyes as he threaded is fingers through Peter's greasy hair. If only he'd been the one getting high with Peter, he'd have an excuse for kissing him back.