Indestructible (Fic, Nathan/Peter)
Title: Indestructible
Pairing: Nathan/Peter
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Incest, Slash, Sexual Content, Language, Violence. Just to be safe, I will say that there is slight non-con.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or its characters: I make no money from the writing of this story.
Spoilers: Season 1, nothing really.
Summary: When Nathan Petrelli hurts, he takes it out on his little brother, because he knows only Peter Petrelli can handle it.
A/N: This fic is not my usual type of Nathan/Peter relationship. I worked really hard on this, so please leave comments. Thanks!
Nathan Petrelli slammed his suitcase down on the kitchen table and shrugged out of his charcoal suit jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his white dress shirt. He had just had a particularly vicious argument with his mother, and her last words to him had cut like a hot blade, deep into his being. He had said something he knew he’d probably regret later, left Angela Petrelli’s house, took flight, and the next thing he knew, he was here in his brother Peter’s apartment. Oh, how he needed him. He needed Peter to be here.
Nathan was angry and raw, as if a rabid beast had clawed at his insides. He wanted to cry. However, Nathan was not the type of man that usually indulged in self-pity, and he would definitely not cry because of Ma. Nathan didn’t think he’d ever been this angry in his entire life, and his mother could be such a bitch, and…where the fuck was Peter?
“Peter? Are you here?” Nathan called out, storming back through the living room, his blood still raging, fueled not just by his anger, but lust at the thought of what he was going to do to his brother once he found him. He swung open the door to his brother’s bedroom. Empty.
Peter wasn’t here.
Nathan’s heart sank, and then the blood stopped pounding in his ears just enough to allow him to hear that the shower was running. Even better. He absolutely loved taking his brother in the shower.
He flung open the bathroom door, and he heard Peter gasp, and a shampoo bottle drop on the shower floor. “Christ, Nathan, you scared the shit out of me!”
“Sorry,” Nathan groaned, not really caring, stripping off the rest of his clothing, his heart racing again. His cock was excruciatingly hard, and he couldn’t wait to get in there and take some of this fury out on his little brother.
Peter’s head poked out from behind the shower curtain, freshly washed strands of his dark hair in his face, looking innocent and beautiful like always.
Peter really had no idea what he was in for this time…or did he?
Peter noticed that Nathan’s hazel eyes were impossibly dark, like a storm was brewing there, his mouth set in a tight grimace.
You’re pissed off about something. I love it when you’re like this, Nathan, Peter thought, a spark of excitement shooting through his body, lighting every nerve aflame. He gave Nathan his slightly crooked smile. “Had a hard day?” he teased, feeling his cock swelling to attention at the sight of his older brother’s naked body..
Nathan gave Peter a deadly, covetous look, and tore the shower curtain open, jumped in, and slammed his body against Peter, knocking the breath out of him.
“Shut up,” Nathan said, crushing his mouth against Peter’s, his tongue prying his brother’s lips apart. Nathan pinned Peter’s wrists against the tiled wall, and pressed his body flush with his, Nathan’s erection stabbing painfully into Peter’s hip. Nathan tightened his grip; their skin was sliding against each other’s because of the remnants of soap on Peter’s body.
In between kisses, Nathan panted, “Keep your fucking mouth shut, you little brat. You have to be so fucking hot, don’t you? So fucking perfect. Ma’s favorite. Makes me want to hurt you.”
Peter thought, Mom did this to him? Shit.
Nathan bit down hard on his brother’s lip, feeling the tender flesh break open, blood flowing into Nathan’s mouth, down Peter’s chin. The metallic taste of it sent Nathan even further into his frenzy. Nathan reached down, took his brother’s cock in his hand and started jerking him roughly, and Peter closed his eyes, knowing it would make Nathan even angrier. Time to play the game.
“Look at me,” Nathan demanded, slapping Peter hard across his face. “You’re gonna look at me when I do this to you. You look away when I tell you to. You don’t make a fucking sound unless I tell you to.”
Tears welled in Peter’s eyes when Nathan slapped him a second time, his head banging against the tile.
“Don’t cry about it, you little baby. You know you love it,” Nathan hissed, squeezing Peter’s testicles painfully. He grasped Peter’s cock again, pumping it harder. “Tell me you love it,” Nathan growled.
Peter could hardly find the breath to speak. Nathan was leaning heavily into him, and his other arm was now across his chest, restraining him.
Peter’s voice was a strangled whisper as he said, “I love it, Nathan. I love it when you hurt me.” The tears fell, two trails that disappeared among the water droplets already on Peter’s face.
Hot water sprayed down on the two brothers, but Nathan paid no attention to the stinging heat lancing his skin. There was only Peter, and he was crying. A new fury swept through Nathan.
Nathan wrapped his hand around Peter’s throat, and then kissed him again, thrusting his tongue deep into Peter’s mouth, doubly choking him. He could feel Peter’s pulse pounding through the vessels he compressed under his grip. Nathan pulled back, and saw Peter’s body was trembling, and his hazel eyes were wide, harboring a wounded look. Two more tears fell from his brother’s eyes. Nathan knew that he’d scared him a little, so he let the pressure off. But Peter was still crying.
He slapped him once more, a vicious backhand. Peter’s head hit the wall again, and Nathan saw that his knuckle had opened another cut on Peter’s freshly healed lip.
Nathan seized Peter by his shoulders and shook him violently. He threatened, “Stop crying, or I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’re not going to be able to walk. You understand me?”
“Yes, Nathan,” Peter moaned, writhing under Nathan’s brutal treatment.
“Okay.” He licked the blood from his brother’s lips, and he could feel that the wound had already healed.
Resilient.
Indestructible.
Nathan loved his brother fiercely, loved that Peter took this punishment from him willingly, and not a mark would show. Nathan could let everything out and be at peace. Peter healed Nathan as he healed himself.
It wasn’t all gone, but it had subsided for now. A temporary calm, like a warm, soft blanket, spread over Nathan.
Nathan kissed Peter again, still tasting his blood and his tears. “You can relax now, baby, I’m not going to hurt you anymore. I didn’t mean to scare you. Time to make it all better,” Nathan said, and knelt down. Peter rested his head back against the tiled wall, breathing heavily, knowing what was going to happen next.
Whenever Nathan wanted sex while he was angry, he was extremely rough with Peter. He would slap him, pinch him, bite him, choke him, sometimes even plunge his fingers into him with no warning. Not that Peter minded it: his body healed instantly, and the pain became intoxicating, addicting even. With Nathan everything was pain and pleasure, agony and ecstasy, opposite forces struggling, one never quite winning over the other.
Peter loved to let Nathan control him, even though considering Peter’s abilities, he was clearly the stronger of the two. Peter could easily raise a hand to stop Nathan if he wanted to, but he never did, because he knew Nathan needed to do this. Not to mention Nathan would always give him this afterward, something special for taking the abuse.
Peter’s cock was in Nathan’s mouth now, and Peter sighed, tangling his fingers loosely in his brother’s wet hair, allowing Nathan freedom to move; Nathan would not accept being controlled.
Nathan never hurt him when he performed oral sex on him. In fact, Nathan did this to him better than any woman ever had.
Nathan’s tongue swirled around the head of Peter’s cock, flicked against the sensitive spot on the underside of him, just below the head, and Peter started to whine. Nathan could take the whole length of him with great ease, and after just a few minutes of time in and out of the hot, slippery recesses of his brother’s mouth, Peter had to prevent himself from reflexively thrusting his hips, feeling as if he were going to come. Nathan always stopped before he did, though, and this time was no different.
Nathan’s reasoning was that he liked for Peter to come while he was fucking him, but Peter guessed it was really because he didn’t like the idea of swallowing his brother’s semen. A control issue, no doubt. Peter didn’t care for it much himself, but he had done it on those infrequent occasions when Nathan wanted him to. He would do anything Nathan wanted. Absolutely anything.
Nathan had gotten out of the shower while Peter was lost in his thoughts and recovering, pulling himself back from the edge. Peter panicked for a moment: was Nathan leaving him, or would he come back to finish what he’d started?
“Nathan?” he asked, his voice shaky.
“You just wait right there, you insolent little fuck,” Nathan’s voice resounded. Despite the harsh words, his voice had softened; he wasn’t quite as angry anymore.
Peter did as he was told, taking the chance to rinse the coppery taste of blood out of his mouth.
When Nathan returned, he had spread lubricant in his hand, and all over the length of his cock; it glistened on him like liquid crystal. Peter’s heart hammered against his ribs in anticipation, eagerly awaiting this, the best part of it all.
Nathan stood behind his brother and began to shower Peter’s neck with kisses, his teeth nipping at his brother’s skin. He slipped his hand in between Peter’s buttocks, searching for his opening, finding it, easing his two longest fingers in, stretching him. His fingers found that sensitive spot inside his brother, the one that made Peter gasp and cry out and tremble under Nathan’s hands.
Peter groaned and panted and tightened around Nathan’s fingers, and when Nathan kept on, Peter’s legs weakened beneath him, barely able to stand because Nathan just did this so well, knew just what Peter liked. Nathan slipped an arm around his brother and held him upright, and Peter started to push back.
“You like that, you little brat?” Nathan asked, his breath hot against Peter’s neck. His fingers went deeper.
Peter’s answer was a high-pitched moan.
“Want me to fuck you now?” Nathan asked, pulling his hand back. He reached in front of Peter, closing his lubricated hand around Peter’s cock, tenderly manipulating the impossibly soft skin that seemed to be stretched taut over a length of iron.
“Yes, Nathan. Please,” Peter implored..
Nathan centered his brother between his legs, and nudged Peter’s opening with the head of his cock, teasing him. He pushed himself partially in, and pulled back. Peter swore--he hated when Nathan tormented him like this.
“Nathan, please!” Peter pleaded, his voice desperate.
“Okay, okay. I know you want it. I know,” Nathan said, taking him by the hips and briskly sliding his full length into his brother, eliciting a low groan from Peter’s lips. At first Nathan gently probed Peter’s tight insides, stretching him out a little more, but when Peter started to whine and beg again, he drove into Peter mercilessly, ravishing his brother’s inner walls.
“I love it when you beg me, Peter,” Nathan said, feeling the anger return, stronger than before, washing over him like a tidal wave, crushing him beneath its weight.
Peter knew it too, and it was time to play again. He replied breathlessly, “I love it when you fuck me hard, Nathan.”
Nathan stopped in mid-thrust, and he said, his voice lowering vehemently, “Pretty boys like you shouldn’t say dirty things like that.” He slapped Peter’s ass, leaving an angry red handprint on his cream-white skin that faded almost instantaneously. “Say you’re sorry,” Nathan commanded, yanking a handful of his brother’s thick dark hair, pulling it and turning his head so he could see his brother’s face.
“I’m sorry, Nathan I’m sorry. Please. Don’t stop. Please…” Peter cried, trying unsuccessfully to force Nathan deeper into him.
“All right. But you don’t deserve it. Say it.” His hand remained clenched around the handful of hair, and he was twisting his brother’s neck at an awkward angle. Peter moaned in pain. Nathan demanded, “Tell me you don’t fucking deserve it! You don’t deserve for me to fuck you! Say it! What, are you crying again?”
“No, I’m not…I promise. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve it!” Peter wailed, as Nathan let go of Peter’s hair and struck him on the side of the head so hard Peter’s ears rang.
“That’s right, you don’t. But I’m gonna give it to you anyway, because you want it so much, you little slut.” He flung Peter down on the floor of the shower, and he heard a snap. Peter had landed hard on his left arm, breaking a bone in his wrist. Peter cradled his wrist for a moment, and then turned it, resetting the bone.
Nathan had never hurt him like this before, and Peter thought his heart would break just as easily as his wrist had. The sheer brutality of what Nathan had done to him set Peter to crying again. Nathan sighed and shook his head.
“I told you not to fucking cry, didn’t I? What did I tell you would happen?”
Nathan grabbed the soap and washed the lubricant off himself. He fumed, “This is what you get now, you fucking crybaby. Get up. Now.”
Nathan slapped Peter again maliciously, and a small trickle of blood issued from Peter’s nostril. Peter wiped away the blood, but did not attempt to get up. He merely sat there, shaking. Nathan wrenched Peter to his feet and slammed him against the wall.
Nathan plunged his cock forcefully into him, going all the way in a singular, cruel motion, and the pain was intense; the little bit of lubrication left inside Peter from before was not enough. Each thrust felt as if a rod of hot metal was tearing him apart, burning his insides. Despite the malevolence of his brother’s actions, Peter still did not stop him; he knew ultimately that Nathan needed to do this.
Peter desperately tried not to make a sound, but he failed miserably, and he cried out with each movement of Nathan’s body. “Don’t like it so much anymore, do you?” Nathan grunted hoarsely into Peter’s ear.
Peter knew exactly what to say, a chance to claim his brother back from the throes of his insane anger. He answered, his voice a pathetic waver, “It hurts, Nathan, it hurts so much. You know I love it when you hurt me.”
After a few more thrusts, Nathan stopped, and rubbed his brother’s lower back, soothing him. He decided that Peter’s transgression could be forgiven. He turned his brother around to face him.
“Oh, Peter. I forgive you,” Nathan said, his voice soft again. Peter’s breath caught in his throat, and he knew he had saved him.
Nathan wiped away his brother’s tears, and cradled his chin in his hand. He bent close, kissed his cheek, and said, “Pete, you know I hate to see you cry.”
He turned his brother around again, but before resuming the merciless onslaught, he reached around and ran his hand along Peter’s length, and then his own, using some of the lubrication left on Peter from before to make things a bit easier.
He stroked his brother’s cock while he fucked him, and the mixture of the fading agony of Peter’s insides with the building pleasure from Nathan’s hand moving back and forth on him was so exquisite, Peter couldn’t help but enjoy it.
Nathan listened to his brother’s soft moans, and said, “Is that better?”
Peter couldn’t speak; he had to close his throat against tears brought on by Nathan’s simple kindness, the gentleness in his voice. He would lose Nathan again if he cried.
Nathan whispered, “I know it’s better now.” He continued to ravage his brother’s body, his rhythm unrelenting. His vision narrowed from the insistent force of his impending orgasm; it threatened to break through the mental barrier he had set against it. Not yet. He couldn’t let that happen yet. Peter was getting close too; he was bearing down on Nathan with increasing fervor, and sighing his brother’s name.
Nathan asked, “Peter, could you look at me?”
Peter turned his head around.
Nathan did not withdraw, but he did let go of Peter’s cock momentarily. He pushed a strand of Peter’s hair away from his face, wanting to see his brother’s perfect porcelain beauty, his slightly parted lips, his hazel eyes that at this moment were a deep, dark brown.
Nathan said, caressing his brother’s cheek, “Are you gonna come for me, baby?”
“Yeah, soon,” Peter murmured.
“You want to go first?” Nathan offered, replacing his hand, but not moving, knowing only one or two more times would do it. He would wait for Peter to answer.
“Yeah, can I?” Peter pleaded softly.
Nathan started again. “Of course you can, baby. Come on. Come for me, Peter.”
As soon as the words left Nathan’s lips, Peter’s body tensed and he let out a soft cry.
As Nathan felt his brother’s hot stream pour over his hand and run down his wrist, Peter’s insides seized around Nathan, taking Nathan over the edge with him, surprising him, bursting him through that barrier. Nathan groaned, welcoming the surge of release. Everything that was wrong inside him, everything that hurt inside him rushed forth as well, the rawness and the pain and anger leaving him finally.
It was all gone now, every last bit of it.
He had hurt Peter, but Peter had healed himself, and he’d healed Nathan in the process. Just like he always did, in the way only his little brother could.
Nathan could only think now of how much he loved Peter for this.
Nathan clung to him, his face pressed into Peter’s shoulder, the shower raining down on them, until their frantic, synchronized heartbeats and breathing slowed.
Nathan turned Peter around and gathered him in his arms; he loved how Peter fit there so perfectly, filling that empty place in him. He noted that the water had finally run cold, and Peter shivered slightly. Nathan turned off the water, guided him out of the shower, and wrapped a soft cotton towel around his little brother’s body. Nathan dried him thoroughly, and held him, running his hands continually over Peter’s skin until he was warm again.
His face buried in his brother’s soft, damp hair, Nathan whispered, “I love you, Peter. I’m sorry for being this way. For doing that to you.”
Peter said, tightening his arms around Nathan, “You don’t have to say you’re sorry. It’s okay. I’m okay. I love you, Nathan.”
Nathan knew then that nothing he could ever say or do to his brother would change the fact that just like Peter's body, their love for each other was resilient.
Indestructible.
Pairing: Nathan/Peter
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Incest, Slash, Sexual Content, Language, Violence. Just to be safe, I will say that there is slight non-con.
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or its characters: I make no money from the writing of this story.
Spoilers: Season 1, nothing really.
Summary: When Nathan Petrelli hurts, he takes it out on his little brother, because he knows only Peter Petrelli can handle it.
A/N: This fic is not my usual type of Nathan/Peter relationship. I worked really hard on this, so please leave comments. Thanks!
Nathan Petrelli slammed his suitcase down on the kitchen table and shrugged out of his charcoal suit jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his white dress shirt. He had just had a particularly vicious argument with his mother, and her last words to him had cut like a hot blade, deep into his being. He had said something he knew he’d probably regret later, left Angela Petrelli’s house, took flight, and the next thing he knew, he was here in his brother Peter’s apartment. Oh, how he needed him. He needed Peter to be here.
Nathan was angry and raw, as if a rabid beast had clawed at his insides. He wanted to cry. However, Nathan was not the type of man that usually indulged in self-pity, and he would definitely not cry because of Ma. Nathan didn’t think he’d ever been this angry in his entire life, and his mother could be such a bitch, and…where the fuck was Peter?
“Peter? Are you here?” Nathan called out, storming back through the living room, his blood still raging, fueled not just by his anger, but lust at the thought of what he was going to do to his brother once he found him. He swung open the door to his brother’s bedroom. Empty.
Peter wasn’t here.
Nathan’s heart sank, and then the blood stopped pounding in his ears just enough to allow him to hear that the shower was running. Even better. He absolutely loved taking his brother in the shower.
He flung open the bathroom door, and he heard Peter gasp, and a shampoo bottle drop on the shower floor. “Christ, Nathan, you scared the shit out of me!”
“Sorry,” Nathan groaned, not really caring, stripping off the rest of his clothing, his heart racing again. His cock was excruciatingly hard, and he couldn’t wait to get in there and take some of this fury out on his little brother.
Peter’s head poked out from behind the shower curtain, freshly washed strands of his dark hair in his face, looking innocent and beautiful like always.
Peter really had no idea what he was in for this time…or did he?
Peter noticed that Nathan’s hazel eyes were impossibly dark, like a storm was brewing there, his mouth set in a tight grimace.
You’re pissed off about something. I love it when you’re like this, Nathan, Peter thought, a spark of excitement shooting through his body, lighting every nerve aflame. He gave Nathan his slightly crooked smile. “Had a hard day?” he teased, feeling his cock swelling to attention at the sight of his older brother’s naked body..
Nathan gave Peter a deadly, covetous look, and tore the shower curtain open, jumped in, and slammed his body against Peter, knocking the breath out of him.
“Shut up,” Nathan said, crushing his mouth against Peter’s, his tongue prying his brother’s lips apart. Nathan pinned Peter’s wrists against the tiled wall, and pressed his body flush with his, Nathan’s erection stabbing painfully into Peter’s hip. Nathan tightened his grip; their skin was sliding against each other’s because of the remnants of soap on Peter’s body.
In between kisses, Nathan panted, “Keep your fucking mouth shut, you little brat. You have to be so fucking hot, don’t you? So fucking perfect. Ma’s favorite. Makes me want to hurt you.”
Peter thought, Mom did this to him? Shit.
Nathan bit down hard on his brother’s lip, feeling the tender flesh break open, blood flowing into Nathan’s mouth, down Peter’s chin. The metallic taste of it sent Nathan even further into his frenzy. Nathan reached down, took his brother’s cock in his hand and started jerking him roughly, and Peter closed his eyes, knowing it would make Nathan even angrier. Time to play the game.
“Look at me,” Nathan demanded, slapping Peter hard across his face. “You’re gonna look at me when I do this to you. You look away when I tell you to. You don’t make a fucking sound unless I tell you to.”
Tears welled in Peter’s eyes when Nathan slapped him a second time, his head banging against the tile.
“Don’t cry about it, you little baby. You know you love it,” Nathan hissed, squeezing Peter’s testicles painfully. He grasped Peter’s cock again, pumping it harder. “Tell me you love it,” Nathan growled.
Peter could hardly find the breath to speak. Nathan was leaning heavily into him, and his other arm was now across his chest, restraining him.
Peter’s voice was a strangled whisper as he said, “I love it, Nathan. I love it when you hurt me.” The tears fell, two trails that disappeared among the water droplets already on Peter’s face.
Hot water sprayed down on the two brothers, but Nathan paid no attention to the stinging heat lancing his skin. There was only Peter, and he was crying. A new fury swept through Nathan.
Nathan wrapped his hand around Peter’s throat, and then kissed him again, thrusting his tongue deep into Peter’s mouth, doubly choking him. He could feel Peter’s pulse pounding through the vessels he compressed under his grip. Nathan pulled back, and saw Peter’s body was trembling, and his hazel eyes were wide, harboring a wounded look. Two more tears fell from his brother’s eyes. Nathan knew that he’d scared him a little, so he let the pressure off. But Peter was still crying.
He slapped him once more, a vicious backhand. Peter’s head hit the wall again, and Nathan saw that his knuckle had opened another cut on Peter’s freshly healed lip.
Nathan seized Peter by his shoulders and shook him violently. He threatened, “Stop crying, or I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’re not going to be able to walk. You understand me?”
“Yes, Nathan,” Peter moaned, writhing under Nathan’s brutal treatment.
“Okay.” He licked the blood from his brother’s lips, and he could feel that the wound had already healed.
Resilient.
Indestructible.
Nathan loved his brother fiercely, loved that Peter took this punishment from him willingly, and not a mark would show. Nathan could let everything out and be at peace. Peter healed Nathan as he healed himself.
It wasn’t all gone, but it had subsided for now. A temporary calm, like a warm, soft blanket, spread over Nathan.
Nathan kissed Peter again, still tasting his blood and his tears. “You can relax now, baby, I’m not going to hurt you anymore. I didn’t mean to scare you. Time to make it all better,” Nathan said, and knelt down. Peter rested his head back against the tiled wall, breathing heavily, knowing what was going to happen next.
Whenever Nathan wanted sex while he was angry, he was extremely rough with Peter. He would slap him, pinch him, bite him, choke him, sometimes even plunge his fingers into him with no warning. Not that Peter minded it: his body healed instantly, and the pain became intoxicating, addicting even. With Nathan everything was pain and pleasure, agony and ecstasy, opposite forces struggling, one never quite winning over the other.
Peter loved to let Nathan control him, even though considering Peter’s abilities, he was clearly the stronger of the two. Peter could easily raise a hand to stop Nathan if he wanted to, but he never did, because he knew Nathan needed to do this. Not to mention Nathan would always give him this afterward, something special for taking the abuse.
Peter’s cock was in Nathan’s mouth now, and Peter sighed, tangling his fingers loosely in his brother’s wet hair, allowing Nathan freedom to move; Nathan would not accept being controlled.
Nathan never hurt him when he performed oral sex on him. In fact, Nathan did this to him better than any woman ever had.
Nathan’s tongue swirled around the head of Peter’s cock, flicked against the sensitive spot on the underside of him, just below the head, and Peter started to whine. Nathan could take the whole length of him with great ease, and after just a few minutes of time in and out of the hot, slippery recesses of his brother’s mouth, Peter had to prevent himself from reflexively thrusting his hips, feeling as if he were going to come. Nathan always stopped before he did, though, and this time was no different.
Nathan’s reasoning was that he liked for Peter to come while he was fucking him, but Peter guessed it was really because he didn’t like the idea of swallowing his brother’s semen. A control issue, no doubt. Peter didn’t care for it much himself, but he had done it on those infrequent occasions when Nathan wanted him to. He would do anything Nathan wanted. Absolutely anything.
Nathan had gotten out of the shower while Peter was lost in his thoughts and recovering, pulling himself back from the edge. Peter panicked for a moment: was Nathan leaving him, or would he come back to finish what he’d started?
“Nathan?” he asked, his voice shaky.
“You just wait right there, you insolent little fuck,” Nathan’s voice resounded. Despite the harsh words, his voice had softened; he wasn’t quite as angry anymore.
Peter did as he was told, taking the chance to rinse the coppery taste of blood out of his mouth.
When Nathan returned, he had spread lubricant in his hand, and all over the length of his cock; it glistened on him like liquid crystal. Peter’s heart hammered against his ribs in anticipation, eagerly awaiting this, the best part of it all.
Nathan stood behind his brother and began to shower Peter’s neck with kisses, his teeth nipping at his brother’s skin. He slipped his hand in between Peter’s buttocks, searching for his opening, finding it, easing his two longest fingers in, stretching him. His fingers found that sensitive spot inside his brother, the one that made Peter gasp and cry out and tremble under Nathan’s hands.
Peter groaned and panted and tightened around Nathan’s fingers, and when Nathan kept on, Peter’s legs weakened beneath him, barely able to stand because Nathan just did this so well, knew just what Peter liked. Nathan slipped an arm around his brother and held him upright, and Peter started to push back.
“You like that, you little brat?” Nathan asked, his breath hot against Peter’s neck. His fingers went deeper.
Peter’s answer was a high-pitched moan.
“Want me to fuck you now?” Nathan asked, pulling his hand back. He reached in front of Peter, closing his lubricated hand around Peter’s cock, tenderly manipulating the impossibly soft skin that seemed to be stretched taut over a length of iron.
“Yes, Nathan. Please,” Peter implored..
Nathan centered his brother between his legs, and nudged Peter’s opening with the head of his cock, teasing him. He pushed himself partially in, and pulled back. Peter swore--he hated when Nathan tormented him like this.
“Nathan, please!” Peter pleaded, his voice desperate.
“Okay, okay. I know you want it. I know,” Nathan said, taking him by the hips and briskly sliding his full length into his brother, eliciting a low groan from Peter’s lips. At first Nathan gently probed Peter’s tight insides, stretching him out a little more, but when Peter started to whine and beg again, he drove into Peter mercilessly, ravishing his brother’s inner walls.
“I love it when you beg me, Peter,” Nathan said, feeling the anger return, stronger than before, washing over him like a tidal wave, crushing him beneath its weight.
Peter knew it too, and it was time to play again. He replied breathlessly, “I love it when you fuck me hard, Nathan.”
Nathan stopped in mid-thrust, and he said, his voice lowering vehemently, “Pretty boys like you shouldn’t say dirty things like that.” He slapped Peter’s ass, leaving an angry red handprint on his cream-white skin that faded almost instantaneously. “Say you’re sorry,” Nathan commanded, yanking a handful of his brother’s thick dark hair, pulling it and turning his head so he could see his brother’s face.
“I’m sorry, Nathan I’m sorry. Please. Don’t stop. Please…” Peter cried, trying unsuccessfully to force Nathan deeper into him.
“All right. But you don’t deserve it. Say it.” His hand remained clenched around the handful of hair, and he was twisting his brother’s neck at an awkward angle. Peter moaned in pain. Nathan demanded, “Tell me you don’t fucking deserve it! You don’t deserve for me to fuck you! Say it! What, are you crying again?”
“No, I’m not…I promise. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve it!” Peter wailed, as Nathan let go of Peter’s hair and struck him on the side of the head so hard Peter’s ears rang.
“That’s right, you don’t. But I’m gonna give it to you anyway, because you want it so much, you little slut.” He flung Peter down on the floor of the shower, and he heard a snap. Peter had landed hard on his left arm, breaking a bone in his wrist. Peter cradled his wrist for a moment, and then turned it, resetting the bone.
Nathan had never hurt him like this before, and Peter thought his heart would break just as easily as his wrist had. The sheer brutality of what Nathan had done to him set Peter to crying again. Nathan sighed and shook his head.
“I told you not to fucking cry, didn’t I? What did I tell you would happen?”
Nathan grabbed the soap and washed the lubricant off himself. He fumed, “This is what you get now, you fucking crybaby. Get up. Now.”
Nathan slapped Peter again maliciously, and a small trickle of blood issued from Peter’s nostril. Peter wiped away the blood, but did not attempt to get up. He merely sat there, shaking. Nathan wrenched Peter to his feet and slammed him against the wall.
Nathan plunged his cock forcefully into him, going all the way in a singular, cruel motion, and the pain was intense; the little bit of lubrication left inside Peter from before was not enough. Each thrust felt as if a rod of hot metal was tearing him apart, burning his insides. Despite the malevolence of his brother’s actions, Peter still did not stop him; he knew ultimately that Nathan needed to do this.
Peter desperately tried not to make a sound, but he failed miserably, and he cried out with each movement of Nathan’s body. “Don’t like it so much anymore, do you?” Nathan grunted hoarsely into Peter’s ear.
Peter knew exactly what to say, a chance to claim his brother back from the throes of his insane anger. He answered, his voice a pathetic waver, “It hurts, Nathan, it hurts so much. You know I love it when you hurt me.”
After a few more thrusts, Nathan stopped, and rubbed his brother’s lower back, soothing him. He decided that Peter’s transgression could be forgiven. He turned his brother around to face him.
“Oh, Peter. I forgive you,” Nathan said, his voice soft again. Peter’s breath caught in his throat, and he knew he had saved him.
Nathan wiped away his brother’s tears, and cradled his chin in his hand. He bent close, kissed his cheek, and said, “Pete, you know I hate to see you cry.”
He turned his brother around again, but before resuming the merciless onslaught, he reached around and ran his hand along Peter’s length, and then his own, using some of the lubrication left on Peter from before to make things a bit easier.
He stroked his brother’s cock while he fucked him, and the mixture of the fading agony of Peter’s insides with the building pleasure from Nathan’s hand moving back and forth on him was so exquisite, Peter couldn’t help but enjoy it.
Nathan listened to his brother’s soft moans, and said, “Is that better?”
Peter couldn’t speak; he had to close his throat against tears brought on by Nathan’s simple kindness, the gentleness in his voice. He would lose Nathan again if he cried.
Nathan whispered, “I know it’s better now.” He continued to ravage his brother’s body, his rhythm unrelenting. His vision narrowed from the insistent force of his impending orgasm; it threatened to break through the mental barrier he had set against it. Not yet. He couldn’t let that happen yet. Peter was getting close too; he was bearing down on Nathan with increasing fervor, and sighing his brother’s name.
Nathan asked, “Peter, could you look at me?”
Peter turned his head around.
Nathan did not withdraw, but he did let go of Peter’s cock momentarily. He pushed a strand of Peter’s hair away from his face, wanting to see his brother’s perfect porcelain beauty, his slightly parted lips, his hazel eyes that at this moment were a deep, dark brown.
Nathan said, caressing his brother’s cheek, “Are you gonna come for me, baby?”
“Yeah, soon,” Peter murmured.
“You want to go first?” Nathan offered, replacing his hand, but not moving, knowing only one or two more times would do it. He would wait for Peter to answer.
“Yeah, can I?” Peter pleaded softly.
Nathan started again. “Of course you can, baby. Come on. Come for me, Peter.”
As soon as the words left Nathan’s lips, Peter’s body tensed and he let out a soft cry.
As Nathan felt his brother’s hot stream pour over his hand and run down his wrist, Peter’s insides seized around Nathan, taking Nathan over the edge with him, surprising him, bursting him through that barrier. Nathan groaned, welcoming the surge of release. Everything that was wrong inside him, everything that hurt inside him rushed forth as well, the rawness and the pain and anger leaving him finally.
It was all gone now, every last bit of it.
He had hurt Peter, but Peter had healed himself, and he’d healed Nathan in the process. Just like he always did, in the way only his little brother could.
Nathan could only think now of how much he loved Peter for this.
Nathan clung to him, his face pressed into Peter’s shoulder, the shower raining down on them, until their frantic, synchronized heartbeats and breathing slowed.
Nathan turned Peter around and gathered him in his arms; he loved how Peter fit there so perfectly, filling that empty place in him. He noted that the water had finally run cold, and Peter shivered slightly. Nathan turned off the water, guided him out of the shower, and wrapped a soft cotton towel around his little brother’s body. Nathan dried him thoroughly, and held him, running his hands continually over Peter’s skin until he was warm again.
His face buried in his brother’s soft, damp hair, Nathan whispered, “I love you, Peter. I’m sorry for being this way. For doing that to you.”
Peter said, tightening his arms around Nathan, “You don’t have to say you’re sorry. It’s okay. I’m okay. I love you, Nathan.”
Nathan knew then that nothing he could ever say or do to his brother would change the fact that just like Peter's body, their love for each other was resilient.
Indestructible.