(no subject)
Title: Lost: Little Boy. If Found, Don't Let Him Out Of Your Sight.
Rating: PG
Summary: Nathan lost Peter once before, at a zoo. This time it's different.
Warnings: maybe some angst?
Peter’s always going to be a little boy to Nathan. There’s something about Peter that screams, “Too young!” to everyone, but more so to Nathan who saw him when he was a baby, and helped raise him and was there through his fucking adolescence and if that wasn’t a fucking nightmare, but anyhow, Peter could live to be a million and he’d still be Nathan’s baby brother and he’d still be unable to take care of himself.
Nathan lost Peter once before, at a zoo. Stopped to look at some monkeys and the next thing he knew Peter was gone, slipped out of his hand. Nathan had choked on nothing and, according to a girl who was making notes on the animal enclosure, freaked out.
According to a guy who could run faster than he could, he panicked.
Most of what Nathan remembered was the feeling in his stomach, like being kicked in the gut and calling Peter’s name over and over again. The way the crowds and the few faces he met seemed like a ravenous, child eating monster with an attractive, fuzzy animal coating.
And the sudden burst of joy, laughter jumping out of his chest when he found him, trying to get into the enclosure, and “let the poor monkeys out”. Hugging Peter and then smacking him upside the head for the worry.
Peter’s lost again.
Somehow, Nathan doesn’t think there’s going to be any burst of laughter, or head smacking involved when they find him, even though the “punch in the gut feeling” is the same.
He’s right.
Rating: PG
Summary: Nathan lost Peter once before, at a zoo. This time it's different.
Warnings: maybe some angst?
Peter’s always going to be a little boy to Nathan. There’s something about Peter that screams, “Too young!” to everyone, but more so to Nathan who saw him when he was a baby, and helped raise him and was there through his fucking adolescence and if that wasn’t a fucking nightmare, but anyhow, Peter could live to be a million and he’d still be Nathan’s baby brother and he’d still be unable to take care of himself.
Nathan lost Peter once before, at a zoo. Stopped to look at some monkeys and the next thing he knew Peter was gone, slipped out of his hand. Nathan had choked on nothing and, according to a girl who was making notes on the animal enclosure, freaked out.
According to a guy who could run faster than he could, he panicked.
Most of what Nathan remembered was the feeling in his stomach, like being kicked in the gut and calling Peter’s name over and over again. The way the crowds and the few faces he met seemed like a ravenous, child eating monster with an attractive, fuzzy animal coating.
And the sudden burst of joy, laughter jumping out of his chest when he found him, trying to get into the enclosure, and “let the poor monkeys out”. Hugging Peter and then smacking him upside the head for the worry.
Peter’s lost again.
Somehow, Nathan doesn’t think there’s going to be any burst of laughter, or head smacking involved when they find him, even though the “punch in the gut feeling” is the same.
He’s right.