Power Play - 3 - Letting Go
Title: Letting Go
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Noah/Nathan
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,898
Spoilers: Through 3x21 “In Asylum,”, takes place between that episode and 3x22 “Turn and Face the Strange.”
Disclaimer Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
Author’s Notes: This is a sequel to Thickening the Thread and Sharing Strength, though it can be read as a stand-alone. Credit for the plot bunny goes to a_cook1, who basically gave me the phrase "sensual sensory barrage."
Summary: Noah learns to let go.
Noah Bennet considered himself to be a short step away from paranoid about his personal security.
He was also proud of that fact.
So when he was woken up out of a light doze by the sounds of someone moving around his apartment, immediately going for his gun, then his glasses was a perfectly normal move.
The moving figure in his doorway froze to a halt as Noah swung his gun into play, aligning the barrel on the fuzzy form’s head. His glasses followed in the next instant, and the blurred figure resolved into Nathan Petrelli. A less cautious man might have dropped the gun in relief, but considering all he’d been through today, he would take nothing at face value.
“I suppose I should get used to people pointing guns at me,” Nathan said. He was still wearing the same suit he’d had on when Danko had pushed him out of the window, a very tailored Armani, now rumpled with two days’ use, and his hair was careless and windblown, exactly as if he’d been flying.
“How do I know it’s you?” Noah said, voice hard, and kept his gun steadily trained on Nathan’s head. If this was somehow Sylar, if his suspicions were right about the shapeshifter’s supposed corpse, then he refused to take anything for granted. Even, or perhaps especially if they were things he really wanted.
“Noah, I don’t think anyone else could get into a third floor apartment without waking you up earlier. Come on, it’s me,” Nathan said, eyes rolling slightly in his usual arrogance. Noah’s aim didn’t waver.
“Prove it,” he said tightly.
Nathan tried to stare him down, and Noah slapped on the touch-base lamp by his bed, making him flinch away slightly. In the brighter light, everything still looked right, not just physically, but his expressions and the way he moved seemed correct. Noah didn’t think Sylar had ever watched Nathan long enough to catch those kinds of nuances… and definitely not when he’d been slaughtering agents in the Midwest for days before Nathan had been forced to flee. When would he have had time to observe Nathan that closely?
A flash of light caught Noah’s eye, and he saw the Naval Academy ring still on Nathan’s right hand. Those weren’t exactly easy to come by, and would Sylar have even noticed what kind of ring it was, let alone been able to find a duplicate? And even if he did, why go to such an elaborate ruse to gain access to Noah’s apartment?
Even so, even so…
He waited for Nathan to make the first move.
Nathan sighed and bowed his head a little. “When Danko pushed me out that window, I knew the first thing he would do was go after Claire. So I flew to Costa Verde. The agents were already in the house when I got there, and Claire was throwing herself out her bedroom window… I caught her.” An odd, bittersweet smile touched his lips. “That was the first time I’ve actually felt like a father in a long time.”
“Go on,” Noah encouraged tersely, his aim still true.
“I flew us to Mexico, and I was going to try to figure out something. Call someone, figure out something, get this thing fixed, but…” Nathan sighed. “I’ll be honest with you, I was pretty much clueless, out of options, out of money, and out of friends. And Claire was pretty mad at me, not that I blame her.
“While I was trying to put together some plan, Claire sold the necklace you gave her for cash. She said you’d understand about it being a survival situation.”
Noah was starting to believe. Yes, that sounded like Claire, like Claire now, the Claire that understood what her father did and even a little of why he did it, the Claire that wanted to prove herself.
“I wanted to prove to her that I could… do stuff.” Nathan shrugged his shoulders and sighed. “I tried to compete with you. I thought I was twenty again and tried to drink some frat boys under the table to win more money. Passed out like an idiot, and she won the contest for me. Did thirty shots of tequila with no problem, won the money, and then dragged me back to the hotel.”
“You let Claire drink tequila?” Noah roared, furious. He tightened his grip on his gun just out of reflex.
Nathan winced a bit at the volume. “Regenerating liver. Wasn’t even tipsy. She did it to clean up my mess. Next morning, I told her I hadn’t called anyone, I told her I was clueless,” he said, and looked troubled at what was in his memory. “She told me that she used to think, when she met me, that I could do anything. That I was supposed to be Superman.”
Noah was torn between jealousy and pride, jealous that his daughter had spent time with Nathan, that he’d been privileged to see her strength even though he’d done nothing to help her grow, and pride that despite all the adults around her failing, she’d stayed strong and had done everything she could to help.
“I sold my watch, bought her necklace back, and she let me fly her back to the States. We’re on our way to see my mom and Peter. Ma had a dream, and says she knows a place where we can find some answers,” Nathan finished, looking up to meet Noah’s eyes squarely.
Noah stared at him for a long moment, not wavering.
“Where’s Claire now?”
“Motel halfway across the country. I told her I had to see if I had any friends left up on the Hill.”
Another long moment, and Noah lowered his gun. Sylar couldn’t have known that about Claire, couldn’t have known how she’d have reacted. And certainly Sylar wouldn’t have brought Noah a tale about Claire drinking to help Nathan and her both. Only with him was Nathan ever that honest. Nathan heaved a sigh of relief and lowered his hands as the gun dropped.
“I have not had a good day,” Noah said by way of explanation, thumbing the safety on and setting the gun back on the nightstand.
“Me neither.”
“So, how did it feel trying to be a dad?” Noah asked, very interested to hear Nathan’s answer.
“Hard,” Nathan said frankly. His eyes got distant, and then hardened. “I didn’t have the greatest example growing up. Simon and Monty are better off without me.”
Noah didn’t contradict him. Nathan’s kids were better off without him right now; at least they’d been spared this madness. He might be a better dad now, since he’d had a chance to acquire perspective and gram of humility, but how could you insert yourself back into your children’s life after so much time away?
It was a question Noah had asked himself more than once.
“I think I’m better off being Claire’s… I don’t know. Friend, maybe. Not her father,” Nathan said after a moment, eyes slightly downcast.
“She’s not easily impressed,” Noah said. “And she doesn’t forgive that easily. She went with you after you screwed up. I think that proves something, Nathan. God knows she has less reason to forgive me.”
Nathan’s eyes flicked up and held his squarely, and Noah could read relief there. “More than you think. It’s hard trying to live up to you.”
Noah couldn’t think of anything to say to that, and Nathan blew out a breath, abruptly changing the subject.
“Sorry, I would have called first, but you know how it is. You’re in the neighborhood, just want to drop by a friend’s place to say hello…” Nathan said more casually, leaning against the wall with a faint smirk.
“You’ve been sleeping in your clothes I take it?” Noah said with a sigh, realizing Nathan’s visit was as practical as it was supposed to be informative. It was a relief to shift the conversation to something less emotionally heavy.
“I’m not taking a shower with your daughter anywhere in the same building,” Nathan said emphatically. “Because I’m pretty sure you’d hunt me down and shoot me.”
Noah managed to keep his face straight with an effort. “Bathroom’s down the hall on the right.”
Nathan disappeared around the door and Noah yanked back the covers. It was cool, even in a t-shirt and pajama pants, and he hissed slightly when his feet hit the cold floor. He debated a moment in warning Nathan about Sylar, but he didn’t have any kind of proof. What good would it do to burden him and Claire with Noah’s paranoia? Better now to give them both what support he could…
Water started running in the bathroom as Noah tiredly searched through a laundry basket in the corner. Despite all the time he’d spent away from home on missions for the Company, he’d usually taken advantage of a dry cleaner or a hotel laundry service. Sandra did all the laundry at home, and when he’d tried to do it on his own here, he’d shrunken a whole load. They were far too short in the leg and arm for him to wear now, but Nathan might get some use out of them.
He threw a few pieces outside the bathroom door and went back to sit on the bed. Taking off his glasses, he let his head rest in his hands. God, he was tired. Maintaining a façade was easy for him, lying came naturally to him as breathing after twenty years in the Company, but the stress of the past few days was starting to hit him hard. Maybe seeing Sylar’s body had taken more out of him than he’d realized. Maybe knowing he had to hold this whole operation together without Angela’s advice or Nathan as a trouble magnet to help him was finally getting to him.
All he wanted to do was sleep again, but there was too much to do, and his mind was too active in considering every angle. Keep Claire safe, keep the Petrellis off the radar, make sure Sylar was actually dead…
He must have briefly nodded off sitting up because the next instant, with no sound he could remember, warm hands were suddenly tugging at the hem of his t-shirt. Noah nearly automatically broke the arm attached to one of those hands before he realized it was Nathan.
“Jesus, don’t do that,” Noah said sharply. He looked up to see Nathan’s slightly blurred face, his hair dark with water from his shower, and automatically reached over to grab his glasses.
“Don’t bother,” Nathan said, his voice very low, spearing straight through Noah’s belly.
He hesitated, but when Nathan started to push his shirt up again, Noah forgot about the need to see clearly. Nathan never had less than three reasons behind anything he did, and since telling Noah about Claire and getting a shower were already crossed off his list, his third reason was rapidly becoming clear. Noah’s shirt was shoved off and onto the floor, Nathan’s mouth following where the hem had trailed, lips and tongue pressing over his ribs, sweeping teasingly across his nipples, lingering on the bullet scar on his right side.
Noah groaned slightly, and caught himself. He was slowly letting himself go down on the bed, and knew he shouldn’t. Nathan was right here, unclothed and vulnerable, and Noah could ask anything from him and probably get it. He certainly didn’t need to let Nathan get his way. Noah was the one that was exhausted and stressed; he certainly deserved for things to go the way he wanted, for once. For Nathan, the worse had already happened, and while that gave Nathan his own share of problems, it was also had to be something of a relief.
Noah was about to say something when Nathan’s hands, intensely warm, joined his mouth in roaming all over his body. It was almost unconscious, the way they swept and traced, exploring lines of muscle and bone, scratching delicately over scars as if they found him fascinating. Noah lowered himself back on his elbows, relaxing, and watched the slightly blurred form of Nathan Petrelli practically worshipping him.
Noah abruptly decided that this was exactly what he wanted right now. Heat enveloped him as Nathan slowly pushed himself up his chest, mouth trailing from Noah’s chest and up his neck to press close, nearly under his jaw.
“You look great when you’re letting go Noah,” Nathan murmured, his voice rumbling straight from his chest into Noah’s, Nathan’s hot breath intensifying the warmth on Noah’s neck. There was an intense scent of clean soap in his nose, along with a faint hint of Nathan’s musk, and it was almost enough to make him want to give in.
Nathan wouldn’t give up, and kept up a steady stream of half-heard compliments and flattery, things Noah let wash over him as Nathan’s hand slid steadily southward, slowly tugging the cotton pants off of his hips. Now was the time for him to flip the situation, to take control back from Nathan, but Noah found he didn’t want to. Despite his earlier fatigue, he was slowly coming completely awake under Nathan’s touch.
The room no longer felt cold to him, because Nathan’s hands, mouth, and body were covering him everywhere. The rumbling sounds of Nathan’s voice, husky with desire, were filling his ears, the scent of Nathan’s arousal was in his nose, and he was filling his eyes with the sight of Nathan practically stretched out over him.
Nathan had already given himself up several times, not just physically, but more importantly to Noah, in regards to Claire. Nathan was done trying to win her over, to prove he could be as good a father as the man who’d actually raised her. That faint undercurrent of tension was now gone, and along with that came an easing of stress Noah hadn’t realized he was under until it was gone. He finally tilted his head back and let Nathan press his mouth to a spot under his jaw, a place both intensely vulnerable and erogenous for him.
An instant later, he shifted his hips enough for Nathan to slide his pants and underwear down and away, sighing as Nathan’s hand brushed his hardening cock. The sigh turned into a gasp as Nathan deftly wrapped his hand around him and stroked him hard and satisfyingly, just a few swift passes to bring him completely erect.
Noah’s arms were starting to tremble with the effort to keep himself up under Nathan’s ministrations, and Nathan took the advantage to gently nudge him over onto his stomach. Noah thought about resisting, briefly, and then let himself be moved. He could stop this game at any time he wanted to, after all…
Nathan’s hands never left him, now sliding down Noah’s arms, his back, shoulders, and hips, Nathan’s mouth following. The contact of the sheets against Noah’s cock was an unexpected spike of sensation, and he hissed, sliding into a moan as Nathan kissed the back of his neck with nearly-bruising strength, urging Noah’s head down. Intense warmth spread from the kiss, loosening and relaxing all of Noah’s muscles as Nathan moved slowly down his spine, kissing as he went, lower and lower, not stopping when he got to the base, but kept moving, his hands going with him, sliding, spreading Noah apart, and suddenly his tongue was-.
“Shit!” Noah swore sharply into the mattress, and abruptly pushed his hips back into the wetness and heat of Nathan’s mouth. Tiny little thrusts into him, slow lapping and teasing around the rim of muscle as Noah relaxed around Nathan’s tongue, all conspired to bring him to fever pitch of excitement. God, he hadn’t let go like this in years.
“Yeah…” Nathan murmured, his hands making slow circles on Noah’s hips, teasing inward along the lines of his stomach and lower.
No way in hell are you going to make me beg, Petrelli, Noah thought sharply, and slid one hand blindly over to the nightstand. Rummaging around for a second, he found what he was looking for, and shoved the lube and condoms back towards Nathan. That was all the coherence he had time for, and he muffled any whimpers he may or may not have made as Nathan replaced his warm and wet tongue with warm and slick fingers inside him.
The slow, building pressure, the rising and fading burn, the slick slide along his inner walls made him gasp and push back on Nathan’s fingers, helping him find just the right angle. Noah bit back something like a sob when he found the right spot, and tightened himself around Nathan, holding him there for an intense few seconds.
“Noah?” Nathan was asking for permission, his voice less of a plea and more of a challenge. Noah breathed harshly into the pillow, Nathan’s heat, musk, touch, and voice filling his senses. Why shouldn’t he let him? What would it change?
“Go on,” Noah breathed finally, and felt himself twitching and hard as he heard the rattle of the foil wrapper behind him. He clutched the bedspread below him as Nathan pulled away to cover himself, taking his heat with him. Another moment, and he heard the slick sounds of lube over rubber, and Nathan’s hand returned to his back, tracing up his spine, heating him back up.
Noah felt the air being squeezed out of his lungs as Nathan pushed in, an infinitely slow but inexorable slide. He scarcely had time to adjust, and the burn became intense, but Nathan’s high heat and the feeling of being so full made it worth it.
“Yeah…” Noah whispered involuntary as Nathan finally bottomed out inside him. Nathan held himself there, showing a control Noah didn’t expect he had, until Noah gave a tiny nod that he was ready. Nathan started slow, moving with Noah’s body, both of them working to find the best angle. But once he hit that, Noah’s coordination started to go as Nathan picked up the pace.
“So good… this is so good.” Nathan’s voice was ragged, and Noah smirked slightly to himself and deliberately tightened his body just to hear Nathan gasp. Another hard thrust hit well inside him, and Noah bit his lip to keep silent, feeling his own cock now hard and straining. Heaving up slightly, he reached down to stroke himself, knowing it wouldn’t be long. Christ, he didn’t think he’d been this hard in forever…
“More Nathan, come on!” Noah growled out, and felt his eyes widen when Nathan’s next few thrusts become uncoordinated and almost savage. It rocked Noah hard on the bed, and almost turned his vision white with pleasure as Nathan released deep inside him, the splash of heat triggering Noah’s own release. Mouth stubbornly shut, groan trapped in his chest, Noah nearly blacked out as he frantically stroked himself through both of their orgasms.
“Christ,” Nathan swore softly, nearly falling on Noah, bracing himself on the bed at the last second until he recovered. They both had to wait until something approximating coordinated thought returned before Nathan had the presence of mind to slowly pull away. Noah ignored the pain and eased himself onto his back, running his clean hand over his face to wipe the sweat away.
Nathan flopped down with more extravagant abandon, a pleased grin on his face. Noah refrained from rolling his eyes. Apparently being shoved out a window and chastised by Claire had given Nathan a mellower outlook on life. All well and good if you were no longer under government scrutiny, but not something Noah could afford yet.
After a moment or two to bask in the afterglow, Nathan sat up and looked back at Noah, his face sobering.
“You should come with us. I don’t think Danko’s going to listen to any kind of reason, and Claire needs you. All of us do. Peter still hates me, and Mom has some kind of family business she wants to discuss with all of us. God knows we could use a neutral party,” Nathan said softly.
“I’m hardly neutral,” Noah reminded him.
“You’re practically part of the family anyway, I know, but you didn’t grow up with us. Come on, Claire wants to see you,” Nathan coaxed.
Noah was tempted, but a single thought of Sylar, that he might be loose in Washington with that power, stayed an impulsive thought to abandon his post.
“I know she does. But I have to tie up some loose ends around here before I can go. Just take care of her, keep her safe until I get there,” Noah said, sitting up finally.
Nathan nodded, and raked his hair back into place. His eyes narrowed as Noah got a distant look in his eye.
“Noah, whatever this is, you have to let it go. I think this is all out of our control now. We need to figure out some new angle, some different way to make this work. You know Ma’s dreams…”
“I know,” Noah said more sharply, and closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “I know, Nathan. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
It hit him right then that Nathan was right, that if he didn’t let go he stood the good chance of being swept away by something more than he could handle. He just couldn’t leave it alone though, not when it was Sylar.
“I promise, as soon as this is done, one way or another, I’ll be there. And that’s as good as you’re going to get for now,” Noah finished firmly.
Nathan reached over and handed Noah his glasses before getting off the bed. The room, and Nathan, sprung into sharp focus, and Noah could see the fading bruises on Nathan’s back where he’d hit the plate glass.
“We’ll see you there,” Nathan said evenly, inclining his head in farewell as he disappeared down the hall. There were a few minutes of water running, and then Nathan reappeared briefly, dressed in Noah’s shrunken clothes, as he headed to the window to return to Claire.
Noah waited another five minutes as the window opened and closed, making sure agents weren’t going to burst into his apartment, before finally rising. He’d wanted to go with Nathan, to get back to Claire and into a position where he could affect more than he could now. Danko was counting on him less and less, and if Sylar was where Noah feared he could be, then Noah’s time was limited.
Knowing Claire was safe, that Angela had a new direction for them to go, and that Nathan had given up on the worst of his stubborn pride gave Noah a feeling of recklessness. He wanted to figure out about Sylar now so he could safely leave Washington. For the first time in a while, Noah wanted to push forward without having to plan fifteen steps in advance.
Nathan was right; this was all crumbling around them faster than they could shore it up. Nobody had much time. Tomorrow Noah would start looking for Sylar, testing Danko, and get ready to cut his losses.
It was past time to let go.
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Previous Part: Sharing Strength
Next Part: Dropping the Mask
Author: jaune_chat
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Noah/Nathan
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,898
Spoilers: Through 3x21 “In Asylum,”, takes place between that episode and 3x22 “Turn and Face the Strange.”
Disclaimer Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
Author’s Notes: This is a sequel to Thickening the Thread and Sharing Strength, though it can be read as a stand-alone. Credit for the plot bunny goes to a_cook1, who basically gave me the phrase "sensual sensory barrage."
Summary: Noah learns to let go.
Noah Bennet considered himself to be a short step away from paranoid about his personal security.
He was also proud of that fact.
So when he was woken up out of a light doze by the sounds of someone moving around his apartment, immediately going for his gun, then his glasses was a perfectly normal move.
The moving figure in his doorway froze to a halt as Noah swung his gun into play, aligning the barrel on the fuzzy form’s head. His glasses followed in the next instant, and the blurred figure resolved into Nathan Petrelli. A less cautious man might have dropped the gun in relief, but considering all he’d been through today, he would take nothing at face value.
“I suppose I should get used to people pointing guns at me,” Nathan said. He was still wearing the same suit he’d had on when Danko had pushed him out of the window, a very tailored Armani, now rumpled with two days’ use, and his hair was careless and windblown, exactly as if he’d been flying.
“How do I know it’s you?” Noah said, voice hard, and kept his gun steadily trained on Nathan’s head. If this was somehow Sylar, if his suspicions were right about the shapeshifter’s supposed corpse, then he refused to take anything for granted. Even, or perhaps especially if they were things he really wanted.
“Noah, I don’t think anyone else could get into a third floor apartment without waking you up earlier. Come on, it’s me,” Nathan said, eyes rolling slightly in his usual arrogance. Noah’s aim didn’t waver.
“Prove it,” he said tightly.
Nathan tried to stare him down, and Noah slapped on the touch-base lamp by his bed, making him flinch away slightly. In the brighter light, everything still looked right, not just physically, but his expressions and the way he moved seemed correct. Noah didn’t think Sylar had ever watched Nathan long enough to catch those kinds of nuances… and definitely not when he’d been slaughtering agents in the Midwest for days before Nathan had been forced to flee. When would he have had time to observe Nathan that closely?
A flash of light caught Noah’s eye, and he saw the Naval Academy ring still on Nathan’s right hand. Those weren’t exactly easy to come by, and would Sylar have even noticed what kind of ring it was, let alone been able to find a duplicate? And even if he did, why go to such an elaborate ruse to gain access to Noah’s apartment?
Even so, even so…
He waited for Nathan to make the first move.
Nathan sighed and bowed his head a little. “When Danko pushed me out that window, I knew the first thing he would do was go after Claire. So I flew to Costa Verde. The agents were already in the house when I got there, and Claire was throwing herself out her bedroom window… I caught her.” An odd, bittersweet smile touched his lips. “That was the first time I’ve actually felt like a father in a long time.”
“Go on,” Noah encouraged tersely, his aim still true.
“I flew us to Mexico, and I was going to try to figure out something. Call someone, figure out something, get this thing fixed, but…” Nathan sighed. “I’ll be honest with you, I was pretty much clueless, out of options, out of money, and out of friends. And Claire was pretty mad at me, not that I blame her.
“While I was trying to put together some plan, Claire sold the necklace you gave her for cash. She said you’d understand about it being a survival situation.”
Noah was starting to believe. Yes, that sounded like Claire, like Claire now, the Claire that understood what her father did and even a little of why he did it, the Claire that wanted to prove herself.
“I wanted to prove to her that I could… do stuff.” Nathan shrugged his shoulders and sighed. “I tried to compete with you. I thought I was twenty again and tried to drink some frat boys under the table to win more money. Passed out like an idiot, and she won the contest for me. Did thirty shots of tequila with no problem, won the money, and then dragged me back to the hotel.”
“You let Claire drink tequila?” Noah roared, furious. He tightened his grip on his gun just out of reflex.
Nathan winced a bit at the volume. “Regenerating liver. Wasn’t even tipsy. She did it to clean up my mess. Next morning, I told her I hadn’t called anyone, I told her I was clueless,” he said, and looked troubled at what was in his memory. “She told me that she used to think, when she met me, that I could do anything. That I was supposed to be Superman.”
Noah was torn between jealousy and pride, jealous that his daughter had spent time with Nathan, that he’d been privileged to see her strength even though he’d done nothing to help her grow, and pride that despite all the adults around her failing, she’d stayed strong and had done everything she could to help.
“I sold my watch, bought her necklace back, and she let me fly her back to the States. We’re on our way to see my mom and Peter. Ma had a dream, and says she knows a place where we can find some answers,” Nathan finished, looking up to meet Noah’s eyes squarely.
Noah stared at him for a long moment, not wavering.
“Where’s Claire now?”
“Motel halfway across the country. I told her I had to see if I had any friends left up on the Hill.”
Another long moment, and Noah lowered his gun. Sylar couldn’t have known that about Claire, couldn’t have known how she’d have reacted. And certainly Sylar wouldn’t have brought Noah a tale about Claire drinking to help Nathan and her both. Only with him was Nathan ever that honest. Nathan heaved a sigh of relief and lowered his hands as the gun dropped.
“I have not had a good day,” Noah said by way of explanation, thumbing the safety on and setting the gun back on the nightstand.
“Me neither.”
“So, how did it feel trying to be a dad?” Noah asked, very interested to hear Nathan’s answer.
“Hard,” Nathan said frankly. His eyes got distant, and then hardened. “I didn’t have the greatest example growing up. Simon and Monty are better off without me.”
Noah didn’t contradict him. Nathan’s kids were better off without him right now; at least they’d been spared this madness. He might be a better dad now, since he’d had a chance to acquire perspective and gram of humility, but how could you insert yourself back into your children’s life after so much time away?
It was a question Noah had asked himself more than once.
“I think I’m better off being Claire’s… I don’t know. Friend, maybe. Not her father,” Nathan said after a moment, eyes slightly downcast.
“She’s not easily impressed,” Noah said. “And she doesn’t forgive that easily. She went with you after you screwed up. I think that proves something, Nathan. God knows she has less reason to forgive me.”
Nathan’s eyes flicked up and held his squarely, and Noah could read relief there. “More than you think. It’s hard trying to live up to you.”
Noah couldn’t think of anything to say to that, and Nathan blew out a breath, abruptly changing the subject.
“Sorry, I would have called first, but you know how it is. You’re in the neighborhood, just want to drop by a friend’s place to say hello…” Nathan said more casually, leaning against the wall with a faint smirk.
“You’ve been sleeping in your clothes I take it?” Noah said with a sigh, realizing Nathan’s visit was as practical as it was supposed to be informative. It was a relief to shift the conversation to something less emotionally heavy.
“I’m not taking a shower with your daughter anywhere in the same building,” Nathan said emphatically. “Because I’m pretty sure you’d hunt me down and shoot me.”
Noah managed to keep his face straight with an effort. “Bathroom’s down the hall on the right.”
Nathan disappeared around the door and Noah yanked back the covers. It was cool, even in a t-shirt and pajama pants, and he hissed slightly when his feet hit the cold floor. He debated a moment in warning Nathan about Sylar, but he didn’t have any kind of proof. What good would it do to burden him and Claire with Noah’s paranoia? Better now to give them both what support he could…
Water started running in the bathroom as Noah tiredly searched through a laundry basket in the corner. Despite all the time he’d spent away from home on missions for the Company, he’d usually taken advantage of a dry cleaner or a hotel laundry service. Sandra did all the laundry at home, and when he’d tried to do it on his own here, he’d shrunken a whole load. They were far too short in the leg and arm for him to wear now, but Nathan might get some use out of them.
He threw a few pieces outside the bathroom door and went back to sit on the bed. Taking off his glasses, he let his head rest in his hands. God, he was tired. Maintaining a façade was easy for him, lying came naturally to him as breathing after twenty years in the Company, but the stress of the past few days was starting to hit him hard. Maybe seeing Sylar’s body had taken more out of him than he’d realized. Maybe knowing he had to hold this whole operation together without Angela’s advice or Nathan as a trouble magnet to help him was finally getting to him.
All he wanted to do was sleep again, but there was too much to do, and his mind was too active in considering every angle. Keep Claire safe, keep the Petrellis off the radar, make sure Sylar was actually dead…
He must have briefly nodded off sitting up because the next instant, with no sound he could remember, warm hands were suddenly tugging at the hem of his t-shirt. Noah nearly automatically broke the arm attached to one of those hands before he realized it was Nathan.
“Jesus, don’t do that,” Noah said sharply. He looked up to see Nathan’s slightly blurred face, his hair dark with water from his shower, and automatically reached over to grab his glasses.
“Don’t bother,” Nathan said, his voice very low, spearing straight through Noah’s belly.
He hesitated, but when Nathan started to push his shirt up again, Noah forgot about the need to see clearly. Nathan never had less than three reasons behind anything he did, and since telling Noah about Claire and getting a shower were already crossed off his list, his third reason was rapidly becoming clear. Noah’s shirt was shoved off and onto the floor, Nathan’s mouth following where the hem had trailed, lips and tongue pressing over his ribs, sweeping teasingly across his nipples, lingering on the bullet scar on his right side.
Noah groaned slightly, and caught himself. He was slowly letting himself go down on the bed, and knew he shouldn’t. Nathan was right here, unclothed and vulnerable, and Noah could ask anything from him and probably get it. He certainly didn’t need to let Nathan get his way. Noah was the one that was exhausted and stressed; he certainly deserved for things to go the way he wanted, for once. For Nathan, the worse had already happened, and while that gave Nathan his own share of problems, it was also had to be something of a relief.
Noah was about to say something when Nathan’s hands, intensely warm, joined his mouth in roaming all over his body. It was almost unconscious, the way they swept and traced, exploring lines of muscle and bone, scratching delicately over scars as if they found him fascinating. Noah lowered himself back on his elbows, relaxing, and watched the slightly blurred form of Nathan Petrelli practically worshipping him.
Noah abruptly decided that this was exactly what he wanted right now. Heat enveloped him as Nathan slowly pushed himself up his chest, mouth trailing from Noah’s chest and up his neck to press close, nearly under his jaw.
“You look great when you’re letting go Noah,” Nathan murmured, his voice rumbling straight from his chest into Noah’s, Nathan’s hot breath intensifying the warmth on Noah’s neck. There was an intense scent of clean soap in his nose, along with a faint hint of Nathan’s musk, and it was almost enough to make him want to give in.
Nathan wouldn’t give up, and kept up a steady stream of half-heard compliments and flattery, things Noah let wash over him as Nathan’s hand slid steadily southward, slowly tugging the cotton pants off of his hips. Now was the time for him to flip the situation, to take control back from Nathan, but Noah found he didn’t want to. Despite his earlier fatigue, he was slowly coming completely awake under Nathan’s touch.
The room no longer felt cold to him, because Nathan’s hands, mouth, and body were covering him everywhere. The rumbling sounds of Nathan’s voice, husky with desire, were filling his ears, the scent of Nathan’s arousal was in his nose, and he was filling his eyes with the sight of Nathan practically stretched out over him.
Nathan had already given himself up several times, not just physically, but more importantly to Noah, in regards to Claire. Nathan was done trying to win her over, to prove he could be as good a father as the man who’d actually raised her. That faint undercurrent of tension was now gone, and along with that came an easing of stress Noah hadn’t realized he was under until it was gone. He finally tilted his head back and let Nathan press his mouth to a spot under his jaw, a place both intensely vulnerable and erogenous for him.
An instant later, he shifted his hips enough for Nathan to slide his pants and underwear down and away, sighing as Nathan’s hand brushed his hardening cock. The sigh turned into a gasp as Nathan deftly wrapped his hand around him and stroked him hard and satisfyingly, just a few swift passes to bring him completely erect.
Noah’s arms were starting to tremble with the effort to keep himself up under Nathan’s ministrations, and Nathan took the advantage to gently nudge him over onto his stomach. Noah thought about resisting, briefly, and then let himself be moved. He could stop this game at any time he wanted to, after all…
Nathan’s hands never left him, now sliding down Noah’s arms, his back, shoulders, and hips, Nathan’s mouth following. The contact of the sheets against Noah’s cock was an unexpected spike of sensation, and he hissed, sliding into a moan as Nathan kissed the back of his neck with nearly-bruising strength, urging Noah’s head down. Intense warmth spread from the kiss, loosening and relaxing all of Noah’s muscles as Nathan moved slowly down his spine, kissing as he went, lower and lower, not stopping when he got to the base, but kept moving, his hands going with him, sliding, spreading Noah apart, and suddenly his tongue was-.
“Shit!” Noah swore sharply into the mattress, and abruptly pushed his hips back into the wetness and heat of Nathan’s mouth. Tiny little thrusts into him, slow lapping and teasing around the rim of muscle as Noah relaxed around Nathan’s tongue, all conspired to bring him to fever pitch of excitement. God, he hadn’t let go like this in years.
“Yeah…” Nathan murmured, his hands making slow circles on Noah’s hips, teasing inward along the lines of his stomach and lower.
No way in hell are you going to make me beg, Petrelli, Noah thought sharply, and slid one hand blindly over to the nightstand. Rummaging around for a second, he found what he was looking for, and shoved the lube and condoms back towards Nathan. That was all the coherence he had time for, and he muffled any whimpers he may or may not have made as Nathan replaced his warm and wet tongue with warm and slick fingers inside him.
The slow, building pressure, the rising and fading burn, the slick slide along his inner walls made him gasp and push back on Nathan’s fingers, helping him find just the right angle. Noah bit back something like a sob when he found the right spot, and tightened himself around Nathan, holding him there for an intense few seconds.
“Noah?” Nathan was asking for permission, his voice less of a plea and more of a challenge. Noah breathed harshly into the pillow, Nathan’s heat, musk, touch, and voice filling his senses. Why shouldn’t he let him? What would it change?
“Go on,” Noah breathed finally, and felt himself twitching and hard as he heard the rattle of the foil wrapper behind him. He clutched the bedspread below him as Nathan pulled away to cover himself, taking his heat with him. Another moment, and he heard the slick sounds of lube over rubber, and Nathan’s hand returned to his back, tracing up his spine, heating him back up.
Noah felt the air being squeezed out of his lungs as Nathan pushed in, an infinitely slow but inexorable slide. He scarcely had time to adjust, and the burn became intense, but Nathan’s high heat and the feeling of being so full made it worth it.
“Yeah…” Noah whispered involuntary as Nathan finally bottomed out inside him. Nathan held himself there, showing a control Noah didn’t expect he had, until Noah gave a tiny nod that he was ready. Nathan started slow, moving with Noah’s body, both of them working to find the best angle. But once he hit that, Noah’s coordination started to go as Nathan picked up the pace.
“So good… this is so good.” Nathan’s voice was ragged, and Noah smirked slightly to himself and deliberately tightened his body just to hear Nathan gasp. Another hard thrust hit well inside him, and Noah bit his lip to keep silent, feeling his own cock now hard and straining. Heaving up slightly, he reached down to stroke himself, knowing it wouldn’t be long. Christ, he didn’t think he’d been this hard in forever…
“More Nathan, come on!” Noah growled out, and felt his eyes widen when Nathan’s next few thrusts become uncoordinated and almost savage. It rocked Noah hard on the bed, and almost turned his vision white with pleasure as Nathan released deep inside him, the splash of heat triggering Noah’s own release. Mouth stubbornly shut, groan trapped in his chest, Noah nearly blacked out as he frantically stroked himself through both of their orgasms.
“Christ,” Nathan swore softly, nearly falling on Noah, bracing himself on the bed at the last second until he recovered. They both had to wait until something approximating coordinated thought returned before Nathan had the presence of mind to slowly pull away. Noah ignored the pain and eased himself onto his back, running his clean hand over his face to wipe the sweat away.
Nathan flopped down with more extravagant abandon, a pleased grin on his face. Noah refrained from rolling his eyes. Apparently being shoved out a window and chastised by Claire had given Nathan a mellower outlook on life. All well and good if you were no longer under government scrutiny, but not something Noah could afford yet.
After a moment or two to bask in the afterglow, Nathan sat up and looked back at Noah, his face sobering.
“You should come with us. I don’t think Danko’s going to listen to any kind of reason, and Claire needs you. All of us do. Peter still hates me, and Mom has some kind of family business she wants to discuss with all of us. God knows we could use a neutral party,” Nathan said softly.
“I’m hardly neutral,” Noah reminded him.
“You’re practically part of the family anyway, I know, but you didn’t grow up with us. Come on, Claire wants to see you,” Nathan coaxed.
Noah was tempted, but a single thought of Sylar, that he might be loose in Washington with that power, stayed an impulsive thought to abandon his post.
“I know she does. But I have to tie up some loose ends around here before I can go. Just take care of her, keep her safe until I get there,” Noah said, sitting up finally.
Nathan nodded, and raked his hair back into place. His eyes narrowed as Noah got a distant look in his eye.
“Noah, whatever this is, you have to let it go. I think this is all out of our control now. We need to figure out some new angle, some different way to make this work. You know Ma’s dreams…”
“I know,” Noah said more sharply, and closed his eyes briefly and sighed. “I know, Nathan. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
It hit him right then that Nathan was right, that if he didn’t let go he stood the good chance of being swept away by something more than he could handle. He just couldn’t leave it alone though, not when it was Sylar.
“I promise, as soon as this is done, one way or another, I’ll be there. And that’s as good as you’re going to get for now,” Noah finished firmly.
Nathan reached over and handed Noah his glasses before getting off the bed. The room, and Nathan, sprung into sharp focus, and Noah could see the fading bruises on Nathan’s back where he’d hit the plate glass.
“We’ll see you there,” Nathan said evenly, inclining his head in farewell as he disappeared down the hall. There were a few minutes of water running, and then Nathan reappeared briefly, dressed in Noah’s shrunken clothes, as he headed to the window to return to Claire.
Noah waited another five minutes as the window opened and closed, making sure agents weren’t going to burst into his apartment, before finally rising. He’d wanted to go with Nathan, to get back to Claire and into a position where he could affect more than he could now. Danko was counting on him less and less, and if Sylar was where Noah feared he could be, then Noah’s time was limited.
Knowing Claire was safe, that Angela had a new direction for them to go, and that Nathan had given up on the worst of his stubborn pride gave Noah a feeling of recklessness. He wanted to figure out about Sylar now so he could safely leave Washington. For the first time in a while, Noah wanted to push forward without having to plan fifteen steps in advance.
Nathan was right; this was all crumbling around them faster than they could shore it up. Nobody had much time. Tomorrow Noah would start looking for Sylar, testing Danko, and get ready to cut his losses.
It was past time to let go.
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