Fic Exchange -- Written for cerebel
Title: Never Planned for This
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nathan/Hiro
Spoilers/Warnings (if any): Language, mangling of canon. Spoilers up to and including “Landslide.”
Prompts: Angst/romance, sword, travel, sacrifice.
Summary: Immediately after his unfortunate confrontation with Hiro during “Landslide,” Nathan reflects on their relationship.
***
Shit, shit, shit.
This was not good.
There were so many ways in which this was not good.
Nathan climbed into the car, still trembling but breathing deeply to calm his nerves, trying his hardest not to hear the heavily-accented cries of “Villain!” still echoing in the air, and in his head.
It was no use.
Why had he been so stupid? Had he really thought that by ‘scratching the itch’ with Hiro, he could make it go away?
After their last meeting in Las Vegas, he was sure he’d never see the Japanese man again. One night of casual sex was all he had signed on for, and even though he had suspected that Hiro might have felt differently, it was hardly his concern. If Hiro had misinterpreted their relationship then it was no fault of Nathan’s. Even if he had said certain things in the heat of the moment, no one could hold him accountable for pillow talk.
He certainly hadn’t expected Hiro Nakamura to stay in his thoughts. Hadn’t expected how good it would feel to sink into the safety of the other man’s blind optimism and lose himself in the image of the man Hiro believed him to be.
(Dark eyes gaze up at him, sparkling with the innocence of someone who has never been betrayed. Hidden within those dark pools is enough blind trust to rock the foundations of everything in which he believes.)
He hadn’t expected Hiro’s faith to cast aside Nathan Petrelli: Congressman, like a tattered blanket and reveal Nathan Petrelli: Flying Man. The man who wanted nothing more than to abandon his duties and his campaign to accompany his starry-eyed friend on a harebrained mission to steal a sword, find a cheerleader, save the world.
(The thin mouth twists into a genuine smile. Those lips part, opening, offering... no questions asked.)
Not even Peter believed in him the way Hiro did, and it had been so incredibly liberating that he had ached for the time-traveler’s return with a depth he hadn’t felt for anything in a long time.
And he hated the way it made him feel. The way the other man haunted his thoughts, his desires, distracting him from what was important, pulling him away from his family and tempting him into a life he could never live. He hated the way Hiro’s joyous enthusiasm had made him realize just how empty, how desolate his life truly was. Hated that the only reason he could find to stay, was that he couldn’t bring himself to go.
("Flying Man, you DO have destiny. You can save the world, with me. We do it together. Every Hero has destiny, you only need to find the way."
"Yes… Oh, God...")
And most of all, he hated the way Hiro had made him realize that he really was the bad guy; had been the villain all along. But at least, he had thought, at least he would never see Hiro again. At least the Japanese man would never have to know Nathan’s role in the upcoming tragedy. At least the image of the man Nathan could have been would live on in one man’s eyes, if in no one else’s.
("You are good man, Nathan Petrelli. In your heart you will find the right way.")
But it was all fucked up now; everything. Hiro was here, had seen Nathan for who he truly was and had been shattered. He was in New York, and determined to stop the bomb, which meant he was probably going to die.
The thought struck him a lot harder than he would have expected, and he struggled to shove his feelings down as deep as they could go; buried inside a heart of stone.
Hiro was going to die. He had traveled the world, both past and future, and had yet to come up with a way to even interfere with Linderman’s plan. Which meant that the plan really was perfect. New York would be wiped out, and with it would go a selection of people that Nathan cared for; even some with whom he had shared some rather… intimate moments. He had known this for some time. Hiro’s presence made no difference.
(Sweat-streaked skin lies cooling, breaths escape in heavy, satiated gasps. Glasses askew, he grins. Wonder-filled eyes slip closed, reveling in satisfied bliss. He practically glows.)
The bomb was set to go off, and Hiro didn’t have a chance of stopping it. The man would likely be incinerated in the attempt.
He let himself breathe for a moment, slipping behind the familiar wall of calm, cool detachment.
Everyone must make sacrifices, and he had no choice anymore but to sacrifice this.
Even if it left him with nothing.
(A hand reaches out, unconsciously seeking the hair, the skin, the lips of the sleeping man, but stops halfway and falls, fisting the sheets in frustration. The bed shifts as he stands. The rustle of clothes, the clunk of the door, and then... nothing.)
He nodded at his driver and the car pulled away from the curb. Behind them, the one man in the world for whom Nathan could have been a hero was still shouting like he hadn’t known a heart could be broken.
Nathan closed his eyes and didn’t let himself look back.
***
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nathan/Hiro
Spoilers/Warnings (if any): Language, mangling of canon. Spoilers up to and including “Landslide.”
Prompts: Angst/romance, sword, travel, sacrifice.
Summary: Immediately after his unfortunate confrontation with Hiro during “Landslide,” Nathan reflects on their relationship.
***
Shit, shit, shit.
This was not good.
There were so many ways in which this was not good.
Nathan climbed into the car, still trembling but breathing deeply to calm his nerves, trying his hardest not to hear the heavily-accented cries of “Villain!” still echoing in the air, and in his head.
It was no use.
Why had he been so stupid? Had he really thought that by ‘scratching the itch’ with Hiro, he could make it go away?
After their last meeting in Las Vegas, he was sure he’d never see the Japanese man again. One night of casual sex was all he had signed on for, and even though he had suspected that Hiro might have felt differently, it was hardly his concern. If Hiro had misinterpreted their relationship then it was no fault of Nathan’s. Even if he had said certain things in the heat of the moment, no one could hold him accountable for pillow talk.
He certainly hadn’t expected Hiro Nakamura to stay in his thoughts. Hadn’t expected how good it would feel to sink into the safety of the other man’s blind optimism and lose himself in the image of the man Hiro believed him to be.
(Dark eyes gaze up at him, sparkling with the innocence of someone who has never been betrayed. Hidden within those dark pools is enough blind trust to rock the foundations of everything in which he believes.)
He hadn’t expected Hiro’s faith to cast aside Nathan Petrelli: Congressman, like a tattered blanket and reveal Nathan Petrelli: Flying Man. The man who wanted nothing more than to abandon his duties and his campaign to accompany his starry-eyed friend on a harebrained mission to steal a sword, find a cheerleader, save the world.
(The thin mouth twists into a genuine smile. Those lips part, opening, offering... no questions asked.)
Not even Peter believed in him the way Hiro did, and it had been so incredibly liberating that he had ached for the time-traveler’s return with a depth he hadn’t felt for anything in a long time.
And he hated the way it made him feel. The way the other man haunted his thoughts, his desires, distracting him from what was important, pulling him away from his family and tempting him into a life he could never live. He hated the way Hiro’s joyous enthusiasm had made him realize just how empty, how desolate his life truly was. Hated that the only reason he could find to stay, was that he couldn’t bring himself to go.
("Flying Man, you DO have destiny. You can save the world, with me. We do it together. Every Hero has destiny, you only need to find the way."
"Yes… Oh, God...")
And most of all, he hated the way Hiro had made him realize that he really was the bad guy; had been the villain all along. But at least, he had thought, at least he would never see Hiro again. At least the Japanese man would never have to know Nathan’s role in the upcoming tragedy. At least the image of the man Nathan could have been would live on in one man’s eyes, if in no one else’s.
("You are good man, Nathan Petrelli. In your heart you will find the right way.")
But it was all fucked up now; everything. Hiro was here, had seen Nathan for who he truly was and had been shattered. He was in New York, and determined to stop the bomb, which meant he was probably going to die.
The thought struck him a lot harder than he would have expected, and he struggled to shove his feelings down as deep as they could go; buried inside a heart of stone.
Hiro was going to die. He had traveled the world, both past and future, and had yet to come up with a way to even interfere with Linderman’s plan. Which meant that the plan really was perfect. New York would be wiped out, and with it would go a selection of people that Nathan cared for; even some with whom he had shared some rather… intimate moments. He had known this for some time. Hiro’s presence made no difference.
(Sweat-streaked skin lies cooling, breaths escape in heavy, satiated gasps. Glasses askew, he grins. Wonder-filled eyes slip closed, reveling in satisfied bliss. He practically glows.)
The bomb was set to go off, and Hiro didn’t have a chance of stopping it. The man would likely be incinerated in the attempt.
He let himself breathe for a moment, slipping behind the familiar wall of calm, cool detachment.
Everyone must make sacrifices, and he had no choice anymore but to sacrifice this.
Even if it left him with nothing.
(A hand reaches out, unconsciously seeking the hair, the skin, the lips of the sleeping man, but stops halfway and falls, fisting the sheets in frustration. The bed shifts as he stands. The rustle of clothes, the clunk of the door, and then... nothing.)
He nodded at his driver and the car pulled away from the curb. Behind them, the one man in the world for whom Nathan could have been a hero was still shouting like he hadn’t known a heart could be broken.
Nathan closed his eyes and didn’t let himself look back.
***