Small Favours- Peter/Nathan R
ookay this is. faintly unnerving. first fic in forever, plus first in this fandom. unbeta'd and written late post-calculus, so you can imagine, but also forgive, i should hope. on to the fic! concrit highly desired.
Title: Small Favours
Pairing: Peter/Nathan
Rating: R
Word Count: 654
Summary: Nathan teaches Peter to never, never swallow, but always to clean up.
small favours
Payment was just as crude a word as it was a concept.
Favours were something Nathan much preferred. Nathan was old-fashioned in this belief, perhaps, grounded as it was in outdated values of trust and its noble brothers. Still, it held such power in its subtlety and was just that much more binding, along with being so easily reclaimable. Nathan liked distributing favours, wrapping up in his brand of charm and sealed with his perfect smile. You never knew when you might need to call one in. Nathan was a soldier along with a politician, and thus ensured that he was prepared always.
Because Nathan was generous always, as well; he believed in imparting this invaluable maxim on little Peter, of the impossibly trusting naiveté that tempted Nathan irresistibly to strip away of illusions. To corrupt, one would say, but then- this was Nathan of achingly flawless starched collars, gleaming ebony shoes and designer smiles. No, this was Nathan doing his brother a favour, showing him reality and how to make reality work for him.
Reality needn’t necessarily be harsh. Nathan could show him how to make it bend to his will, how to make the world work for him as it did for Nathan. The sky was the limit, if you know how, Nathan would say. Nathan knew power intimately, his Venus and his whore, whom he wished Peter to share. Power could be bought, and all these expensive lessons, why not share them with someone else?
Nathan was everything but selfish.
So he taught Peter his lessons, his values. He saw in Peter’s wide eyes frightening amounts of potential and a painfully pure heart. Nathan could and would protect him. Peter, who was so fragile and yet so much stronger and better than Nathan could ever be. He taught Peter his values, which he believed in, sincerely, because he knew better than anyone how power was nothing without it. But noone knew better than him how utterly deceptive and arbitrary they were, deceitful, bewildering nymphs at the best of times.
And all Nathan asked for in return was Peter, on his knees, those selfsame eyes fluttering shut as his beautiful mouth gasped Nathan’s lessons while Nathan’s cock slipslides outin within the eclipse of his lips.
So deeply wrong and so much better than right, nights before Nathan leaves for military school and the second he returns. Patterns, regimens, he tells Peter. Good for the soul.
Nathan never cursed if he could help it, and the stream that explodes forth with the gasps are nothing less than the most divine of blessings baptising Peter’s brow. Nathan also believes in truth, truth and beauty, and Peter is both and so much more as he sobs and sighs when it is Nathan’s turn to return the favour.
Nathan teaches Peter the tempo and the rhythm of a blowjob and how to run his tongue down, up, and then all around, in perfect time until neither can keep track. Nathan shows Peter how to help another so discreetly and indispensably that a favour can be returned twofold. Then Nathan makes Peter recite again and again while begging for more, in their bedroom with Peter wearing nothing but his faded socks, and Nathan in full military regalia. Nathan counts as Peter’s gasps occur as regularly as the tempo of a tune, pumping him firmly and perfectly.
Nathan teaches Peter to never, never swallow, but always to clean up.
And Peter is a good student, a bright student, one who learns his lessons diligently, but he has questions, and he never seems to agree with the answers. They range from the most basic- why not swallow? - while licking Nathan’s come languidly off elegant fingers, to asking if perhaps, just perhaps, shouldn’t favours be done just because?
Nathan can only frown and himself swallow as he watches Peter clean himself up, but he knows one day, too soon, Peter will find his own answers.
- end.
A/N: i do have the bunny of a fic hopping around tentatively, but i'm waiting for the response to this, first.
Title: Small Favours
Pairing: Peter/Nathan
Rating: R
Word Count: 654
Summary: Nathan teaches Peter to never, never swallow, but always to clean up.
small favours
Payment was just as crude a word as it was a concept.
Favours were something Nathan much preferred. Nathan was old-fashioned in this belief, perhaps, grounded as it was in outdated values of trust and its noble brothers. Still, it held such power in its subtlety and was just that much more binding, along with being so easily reclaimable. Nathan liked distributing favours, wrapping up in his brand of charm and sealed with his perfect smile. You never knew when you might need to call one in. Nathan was a soldier along with a politician, and thus ensured that he was prepared always.
Because Nathan was generous always, as well; he believed in imparting this invaluable maxim on little Peter, of the impossibly trusting naiveté that tempted Nathan irresistibly to strip away of illusions. To corrupt, one would say, but then- this was Nathan of achingly flawless starched collars, gleaming ebony shoes and designer smiles. No, this was Nathan doing his brother a favour, showing him reality and how to make reality work for him.
Reality needn’t necessarily be harsh. Nathan could show him how to make it bend to his will, how to make the world work for him as it did for Nathan. The sky was the limit, if you know how, Nathan would say. Nathan knew power intimately, his Venus and his whore, whom he wished Peter to share. Power could be bought, and all these expensive lessons, why not share them with someone else?
Nathan was everything but selfish.
So he taught Peter his lessons, his values. He saw in Peter’s wide eyes frightening amounts of potential and a painfully pure heart. Nathan could and would protect him. Peter, who was so fragile and yet so much stronger and better than Nathan could ever be. He taught Peter his values, which he believed in, sincerely, because he knew better than anyone how power was nothing without it. But noone knew better than him how utterly deceptive and arbitrary they were, deceitful, bewildering nymphs at the best of times.
And all Nathan asked for in return was Peter, on his knees, those selfsame eyes fluttering shut as his beautiful mouth gasped Nathan’s lessons while Nathan’s cock slipslides outin within the eclipse of his lips.
So deeply wrong and so much better than right, nights before Nathan leaves for military school and the second he returns. Patterns, regimens, he tells Peter. Good for the soul.
Nathan never cursed if he could help it, and the stream that explodes forth with the gasps are nothing less than the most divine of blessings baptising Peter’s brow. Nathan also believes in truth, truth and beauty, and Peter is both and so much more as he sobs and sighs when it is Nathan’s turn to return the favour.
Nathan teaches Peter the tempo and the rhythm of a blowjob and how to run his tongue down, up, and then all around, in perfect time until neither can keep track. Nathan shows Peter how to help another so discreetly and indispensably that a favour can be returned twofold. Then Nathan makes Peter recite again and again while begging for more, in their bedroom with Peter wearing nothing but his faded socks, and Nathan in full military regalia. Nathan counts as Peter’s gasps occur as regularly as the tempo of a tune, pumping him firmly and perfectly.
Nathan teaches Peter to never, never swallow, but always to clean up.
And Peter is a good student, a bright student, one who learns his lessons diligently, but he has questions, and he never seems to agree with the answers. They range from the most basic- why not swallow? - while licking Nathan’s come languidly off elegant fingers, to asking if perhaps, just perhaps, shouldn’t favours be done just because?
Nathan can only frown and himself swallow as he watches Peter clean himself up, but he knows one day, too soon, Peter will find his own answers.
- end.
A/N: i do have the bunny of a fic hopping around tentatively, but i'm waiting for the response to this, first.