Fic: Kiddie Table
Title: Kiddie Table
Pairing: Nathan/Peter
Rating: NC-17
Author’s note: Written for Yet Another Heroes Anonymous Kink Meme. Written at speed and unbeta'd.
Summary: Nathan finds a way to pass the time at the annual Company retreat he's attending with his parents.
Linderman’s son isn’t the youngest one at this retreat. The Nakamura children are here too-the boy and the girl-and Charles Deveaux’s daughter Simone is probably moping around the estate somewhere. Arthur had said something last night about Bob Bishop’s absent daughter, but Angela had quickly moved the conversation on before Nathan could inquire.
Nathan is the oldest of his generation, at least on this particular retreat, and it stings a little that he’s barred from the meetings of his parents and their associates and left to fend for himself the whole week. He’s a college graduate and a Navy Vet, damn it; he’s too old to be still stuck at the kiddie table.
Nathan’s not clear on whose estate this is, really. He gets the idea that Linderman might own it, but no one has said so outright, and Nathan knows better than to ask. Linderman’s son certainly struts around like he owns the place. Peter seems to be everywhere Nathan goes: sunning himself by the pool when Nathan goes to swim in the morning, chatting with the grooms in the barn if Nathan goes to take a horse out, dissecting a bagel on the verandah when Nathan just wants to drink his coffee and read the Times.
Nathan hadn’t met the guy before this week. He’s heard his parents mention Linderman’s son from time to time, but it hasn’t exactly come up in conversation that Peter was so… pretty. That is the only word that applied. His fine-boned face, those dark liquid eyes, unruly hair carefully styled to look like he’d just rolled out of bed… Nathan should not be thinking that way about the son of his parents’ business associate.
Still, it wasn’t as if Nathan is the one solely to blame here. Peter hasn’t exchanged more than a dozen words with him; he just lurks around the estate making eyes at Nathan. He is probably trying to wear down Nathan’s resistance. The trying too hard is sort of cute, Nathan decides one night, after Peter just happens to be lounging suggestively on the stairs when Nathan went up to bed. Peter is a college student, and certainly old enough to know what he’s doing. They’re both trapped here while their parents go about their business. There’s no reason on earth why he shouldn’t give the boy what he wants and get a little for himself in the bargain.
The first time is when Nathan finds Peter hanging around the smoking room, where the liquor cabinet is. Nathan pours himself a night cap, all the while feeling Peter’s eyes on him from the other side of the room.
Nathan turns and stares back at Peter. He takes a casual sip of his whiskey. “Are you going to just look at me all week, or are you going to suck my cock?” he asks.
Peter’s eyes go saucer-wide. He sets down his drink and is kneeling in front of Nathan in no time flat.
Peter’s mouth feels damn good. He’s obviously done this many times. He doesn’t even complain when Nathan fists a hand in his hair and holds him in place while he comes down his throat.
--
The lake has a floating dock in the middle, and that’s where they fuck the first time. Nathan is laying in the sun, thinking, when Peter comes swimming up, sleek and playful like an otter. He pulls himself up onto the dock and pulls his swim trunks off without so much as a “hello.”
Out of the pocket of his discarded trunks he produces a small tube, which he tosses to Nathan.
“You brought lube swimming?” Nathan asks incredulously.
“I didn’t come here to swim,” Peter says reasonably. He gets on his hands and knees and waits for Nathan to get with the program.
--
It’s hard for Nathan to stay angry about being left out of his parents’ meetings. It means he’s had time to fuck around with Peter Linderman all day. On Thursday evening, when the older generation sets aside business for a few hours, Nathan sits in the smoking room having drinks with the men. Peter isn’t invited.
Even though Nathan knows the significance of being admitted to these meetings that reek of cigar smoke and power, he finds his skin itching after a few hours. This is the longest he’s gone without touching the Linderman kid for days. He makes his excuses to his father and goes in search of Peter.
He finds him in the garden, sitting alone in the gazebo and sipping a bottle of Merlot. Nathan has to strip him, just to feel his skin, and by the time the wine is gone, Nathan’s buried to the balls in Peter’s ass, their chests pressed together, pounding him across the floor.
That’s the scene when Daniel Linderman steps into the gazebo. Peter and Nathan freeze. The elder Linderman clears his throat, then turns and walks away.
“Damn it,” Nathan says. He’s shaking with adrenaline.
Peter reaches up and kisses Nathan-the first time he’s done so-and says, “Don’t worry. My dad doesn’t care. He knows… Well. He’s not exactly straight himself. He won’t tell anyone.” Peter kisses him again and again until Nathan stops shaking. “Damage is done now, anyway,” Peter says. “So just fuck me, okay?”
--
Peter is gone the next morning. Angela comes to find Nathan when he’s sitting with his coffee on the verandah. The place seems lonely without Peter picking at his breakfast. “I need to talk to you about Peter,” she says right off.
Nathan nods. He’d expected her to beat around the bush, actually, but he’d prepared some platitudes about exactly how gay he was not, should the subject come up.
“There are things you don’t understand about that boy, and about Daniel Linderman’s business arrangement with our family.”
Nathan takes a sip of his still-too-hot coffee while he processes that. This is one contingency that hasn’t occurred to him. Although he can’t see what effect screwing Peter should have on any business relationship.
“Nathan.” Angela scoots closer to Nathan and puts her hand on his knee. “You’re going to be in charge of all our business interests someday, and you’re going to have to work with the Lindermans. You can’t do anything to jeopardize that.”
“Sure, Ma.”
“I mean it.” Her hand tightens on his knee. “Peter Linderman is more trouble than you know. He’ll ruin your future if you give him half a chance.”
“Ma, it wasn’t-.”
“Your career,” she continues, as if he hadn’t spoken. “Your reputation is the most important thing.” She straightens the collar of his shirt, although it doesn’t need it. “You don’t want to do anything that might harm your chances, after all the hard work you’ve put in. Do you?”
“No, Ma.”
“Good boy.” She gives him a quick peck on the cheek. Before she leaves, she eyes him one more time, sternly. “Stay away from him, Nathan. I mean it.”
--
When he’s packing at the end of the week, Nathan finds a piece of paper scrawled in Peter’s writing slipped into a zipper compartment of his suitcase. It has a phone number, and the words, “Call me when you get back to NYC. XO, Peter.”
Nathan pockets the note. He thinks of his mother’s warning. Then he thinks of Peter’s eyes, the touch of his hand, the press of his lips. He picks up the pace of his packing. He can’t wait to get back to the city.
END
----
Also, kids, don't forget! You can purchase my mad skillz. Yes, I will sell myself to you to write a fic of your choosing. Auction closes Tuesday. Check it out:
Sweet Charity!
Pairing: Nathan/Peter
Rating: NC-17
Author’s note: Written for Yet Another Heroes Anonymous Kink Meme. Written at speed and unbeta'd.
Summary: Nathan finds a way to pass the time at the annual Company retreat he's attending with his parents.
Linderman’s son isn’t the youngest one at this retreat. The Nakamura children are here too-the boy and the girl-and Charles Deveaux’s daughter Simone is probably moping around the estate somewhere. Arthur had said something last night about Bob Bishop’s absent daughter, but Angela had quickly moved the conversation on before Nathan could inquire.
Nathan is the oldest of his generation, at least on this particular retreat, and it stings a little that he’s barred from the meetings of his parents and their associates and left to fend for himself the whole week. He’s a college graduate and a Navy Vet, damn it; he’s too old to be still stuck at the kiddie table.
Nathan’s not clear on whose estate this is, really. He gets the idea that Linderman might own it, but no one has said so outright, and Nathan knows better than to ask. Linderman’s son certainly struts around like he owns the place. Peter seems to be everywhere Nathan goes: sunning himself by the pool when Nathan goes to swim in the morning, chatting with the grooms in the barn if Nathan goes to take a horse out, dissecting a bagel on the verandah when Nathan just wants to drink his coffee and read the Times.
Nathan hadn’t met the guy before this week. He’s heard his parents mention Linderman’s son from time to time, but it hasn’t exactly come up in conversation that Peter was so… pretty. That is the only word that applied. His fine-boned face, those dark liquid eyes, unruly hair carefully styled to look like he’d just rolled out of bed… Nathan should not be thinking that way about the son of his parents’ business associate.
Still, it wasn’t as if Nathan is the one solely to blame here. Peter hasn’t exchanged more than a dozen words with him; he just lurks around the estate making eyes at Nathan. He is probably trying to wear down Nathan’s resistance. The trying too hard is sort of cute, Nathan decides one night, after Peter just happens to be lounging suggestively on the stairs when Nathan went up to bed. Peter is a college student, and certainly old enough to know what he’s doing. They’re both trapped here while their parents go about their business. There’s no reason on earth why he shouldn’t give the boy what he wants and get a little for himself in the bargain.
The first time is when Nathan finds Peter hanging around the smoking room, where the liquor cabinet is. Nathan pours himself a night cap, all the while feeling Peter’s eyes on him from the other side of the room.
Nathan turns and stares back at Peter. He takes a casual sip of his whiskey. “Are you going to just look at me all week, or are you going to suck my cock?” he asks.
Peter’s eyes go saucer-wide. He sets down his drink and is kneeling in front of Nathan in no time flat.
Peter’s mouth feels damn good. He’s obviously done this many times. He doesn’t even complain when Nathan fists a hand in his hair and holds him in place while he comes down his throat.
--
The lake has a floating dock in the middle, and that’s where they fuck the first time. Nathan is laying in the sun, thinking, when Peter comes swimming up, sleek and playful like an otter. He pulls himself up onto the dock and pulls his swim trunks off without so much as a “hello.”
Out of the pocket of his discarded trunks he produces a small tube, which he tosses to Nathan.
“You brought lube swimming?” Nathan asks incredulously.
“I didn’t come here to swim,” Peter says reasonably. He gets on his hands and knees and waits for Nathan to get with the program.
--
It’s hard for Nathan to stay angry about being left out of his parents’ meetings. It means he’s had time to fuck around with Peter Linderman all day. On Thursday evening, when the older generation sets aside business for a few hours, Nathan sits in the smoking room having drinks with the men. Peter isn’t invited.
Even though Nathan knows the significance of being admitted to these meetings that reek of cigar smoke and power, he finds his skin itching after a few hours. This is the longest he’s gone without touching the Linderman kid for days. He makes his excuses to his father and goes in search of Peter.
He finds him in the garden, sitting alone in the gazebo and sipping a bottle of Merlot. Nathan has to strip him, just to feel his skin, and by the time the wine is gone, Nathan’s buried to the balls in Peter’s ass, their chests pressed together, pounding him across the floor.
That’s the scene when Daniel Linderman steps into the gazebo. Peter and Nathan freeze. The elder Linderman clears his throat, then turns and walks away.
“Damn it,” Nathan says. He’s shaking with adrenaline.
Peter reaches up and kisses Nathan-the first time he’s done so-and says, “Don’t worry. My dad doesn’t care. He knows… Well. He’s not exactly straight himself. He won’t tell anyone.” Peter kisses him again and again until Nathan stops shaking. “Damage is done now, anyway,” Peter says. “So just fuck me, okay?”
--
Peter is gone the next morning. Angela comes to find Nathan when he’s sitting with his coffee on the verandah. The place seems lonely without Peter picking at his breakfast. “I need to talk to you about Peter,” she says right off.
Nathan nods. He’d expected her to beat around the bush, actually, but he’d prepared some platitudes about exactly how gay he was not, should the subject come up.
“There are things you don’t understand about that boy, and about Daniel Linderman’s business arrangement with our family.”
Nathan takes a sip of his still-too-hot coffee while he processes that. This is one contingency that hasn’t occurred to him. Although he can’t see what effect screwing Peter should have on any business relationship.
“Nathan.” Angela scoots closer to Nathan and puts her hand on his knee. “You’re going to be in charge of all our business interests someday, and you’re going to have to work with the Lindermans. You can’t do anything to jeopardize that.”
“Sure, Ma.”
“I mean it.” Her hand tightens on his knee. “Peter Linderman is more trouble than you know. He’ll ruin your future if you give him half a chance.”
“Ma, it wasn’t-.”
“Your career,” she continues, as if he hadn’t spoken. “Your reputation is the most important thing.” She straightens the collar of his shirt, although it doesn’t need it. “You don’t want to do anything that might harm your chances, after all the hard work you’ve put in. Do you?”
“No, Ma.”
“Good boy.” She gives him a quick peck on the cheek. Before she leaves, she eyes him one more time, sternly. “Stay away from him, Nathan. I mean it.”
--
When he’s packing at the end of the week, Nathan finds a piece of paper scrawled in Peter’s writing slipped into a zipper compartment of his suitcase. It has a phone number, and the words, “Call me when you get back to NYC. XO, Peter.”
Nathan pockets the note. He thinks of his mother’s warning. Then he thinks of Peter’s eyes, the touch of his hand, the press of his lips. He picks up the pace of his packing. He can’t wait to get back to the city.
END
----
Also, kids, don't forget! You can purchase my mad skillz. Yes, I will sell myself to you to write a fic of your choosing. Auction closes Tuesday. Check it out:
Sweet Charity!