Kink meme fic 2 (Fic, Peter/Nathan)
I did it again. Wrote more dirty brother!smut for the Heroes Kink Meme.
Here it is; I know you all want it.
Pairing:Peter/Nathan
Rating: NC-17 for explicit sexual activity and incest.
Peter was waiting five more minutes for Nathan to come back to the party, and that was it. His brother had staggered drunkenly past him about half an hour ago, mumbling angrily about how much he hated some of their father’s business associates.
“You coming back?” Peter had asked, finishing off the last of his drink.
“Yeah…just gotta get something,” Nathan had slurred in response, then disappeared up the stairs.
Peter always worried a little for Nathan when he got that smashed at their parents’ dinner parties. He’d kept his distance from Nathan tonight, because he knew this function was primarily being attended by people associated with his father’s law firm, and Nathan had little patience for dealing with Peter when he was trying to make a name for himself in the family business. The stress of performing for these people sometimes caused his brother to hit the alcohol a bit too hard.
Peter still didn’t know how Nathan could drink that much and still speak somewhat coherently, and was surprised he hadn’t fallen flat on his face going up the stairway. Peter, almost bored to tears among talk of depositions and indictments and jury selection, had had a few too many himself, and he decided that maybe the best thing to do was go check if Nathan was all right, and then turn in for the night. No one would miss him, not even his parents. As long as Peter could remember, they had always seemed to care a lot more about insuring Nathan’s continued success than nurturing Peter’s potential.
Peter shook off the self-pitying thoughts and ascended the stairs quietly, and knocked on Nathan’s bedroom door.
No answer.
Peter knocked again, and still there was no answer. Panicking slightly, he opened the bedroom door, to find Nathan lying stretched out on his back on his perfectly made bed, his arm dangling off the edge, his mouth open, snoring softly.
I knew you wouldn’t last much longer, Peter mused. “Good night, Nathan,” he said. As he turned to leave, he noticed Nathan hadn’t even bothered to take his shoes off. Peter figured he’d do him the favor, and he took each one off and set them down at the foot of the bed. Peter again turned to leave, when Nathan shifted and groaned, but didn’t wake. Peter realized he was still wearing his suit jacket and his tie too. That couldn’t possibly be comfortable to sleep in.
Peter crawled onto the bed and leaned over Nathan so he could loosen his tie. He nudged Nathan until he was able to move him so that he could take his jacket off, too. He’d learned how to do that in nursing school, but Peter never thought he’d be using the technique to undress his passed-out older brother.
He smiled at the wishful thought of continuing; Nathan was really out cold. He could strip Nathan down to his underwear and Nathan probably wouldn’t wake. He was so drunk he probably wouldn’t care, either.
Peter felt a tingling jolt in his belly as he remembered what had happened the last time Nathan had gotten drunk like this. They had gotten into an argument that ended when Nathan had restrained him to prevent Peter from hitting him, and then, unexpectedly, Nathan had kissed him, a rough, open-mouthed kiss that Peter wouldn’t forget as long as he lived. He’d never forget the way Nathan’s tongue had slid against his own, tasting like alcohol and cigars and something else that he couldn’t quite name.
“Will that finally shut you up?” Nathan had laughed as he’d pulled away and left him there, his dick rock hard in his pants. Peter felt himself stir at the memory. He’d wanted Nathan in that way for so long, and to finally have gotten that, Peter had only found himself wanting more.
Peter looked down at his brother, his face peaceful in sleep, and he traced a gentle finger along the scar on Nathan’s lower jaw. Nathan moaned and batted at Peter’s hand.
“Fucking stop that,” he mumbled. “Trying to sleep, damn it.”
Peter felt another thrilling jolt as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nathan’s slightly parted lips, one he was ready for this time.
He breathed in the scent of him, shaving cream and his familiar spicy cologne, keeping his lips pressed gently against Nathan’s. Peter half-wished Nathan would wake, maybe kiss him back. But he didn’t, and Peter was kind of glad he didn’t. Who knew what Nathan might do if he found Peter in his bed, unbuttoning the buttons of his dress shirt like he was doing right now?
Peter unfastened the last button, and snapped out of his trance, realizing his hands were pressed to Nathan’s stomach, and he watched himself in a mix of desire and horror as he pulled Nathan’s shirt open and traced his fingers over the dark trail of hair that disappeared beneath Nathan’s waistband. God, his hands wouldn’t stop.
Peter ran his hands back up Nathan’s chest, over the surprisingly soft hair there, then down again to his stomach, and Nathan let out a low groan that would have scared him half to death if he hadn’t been so focused on the dull ache growing between his legs. Maybe he was turning him on. Maybe Nathan was getting hard because Peter was touching him.
Peter was almost hypnotized now by his long-harbored desire for his older brother, and he pushed his hand lower, resting directly over the fly of Nathan’s suit pants. Oh, God. Nathan was in fact hard, and Peter had never, ever touched another man like this, and especially not his brother, but he’d imagined it more times than he’d have liked to admit. What normal person fantasizes about his brother? Peter thought, a brief flash of shame burning his cheeks.
But he couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull away, and he gripped Nathan through his pants and stroked him gently, the same motion he normally used on himself. Nathan’s head turned to the side, and he sighed his sleepy enjoyment.
Peter knew he had gone too far, and he would be in a lot of trouble if Nathan woke up right now. But he just couldn’t control it. Peter unbuckled Nathan’s belt and opened his button, pulled down the zipper. Jesus Christ, he was wearing silk boxers that probably had cost more than Peter’s own suit had.
Peter rubbed Nathan through the soft fabric, and just by touch Peter could tell Nathan’s cock was thicker and longer than his own. He had to see it now, he reasoned. He’d gone this far, hadn’t he?
He reached into the boxers and pulled Nathan’s cock free of the clothing, and he chuckled to himself when he noticed it looked just like his own, nothing to be afraid of. Peter wrapped his hand around him and jerked him with even more purpose, and he could hear soft little moans issuing from Nathan’s lips. Peter looked up in panic, but Nathan still appeared to be asleep; he hadn’t moved much, just a shallow motion of his hips anytime Peter ran his fingers over the sensitive skin of the head. Somehow, while Peter had been busy doing this, he’d pulled his own dick out and was almost overcome by a fit of drunken laughter at the absurdity of this situation: he had a cock in both his hands.
“Don’t stop,” Nathan suddenly whispered. Peter’s blood nearly froze. Did Nathan know it was him? Or was he dreaming he was with someone else? Peter decided he didn’t care, not anymore, and he kept on going, and Nathan was nearly fucking his hand now, thrusting his hips upward into Peter’s rapid stroking. That thought brought a vivid image into his mind, a dream he’d had countless times, of Nathan fucking him.
The image brought Peter over the edge and he came hard, in the midst of his pleasure trying desperately not to make a sound as his semen landed all over his brand-new dress shirt. Peter hadn’t stopped stroking his brother while he’d brought himself to his release, and he’d actually somewhat forgotten about it, until he felt Nathan’s cock pulse in his hand. Nathan let out a deep groan, and his come ran hot and sticky over Peter’s hand, down his wrist. Peter almost pulled away in surprise.
Holy shit! He’d made him come.
Oh, God, Peter panicked, wanting to bolt, frozen in place. Nathan absolutely had to be awake now. He was caught, and Nathan was going to kill him for this.
Peter peered through his tightly shut eyelids at Nathan’s face, and thankfully he still appeared to be sleeping. Peter cleaned himself up with a few tissues and decided he needed to get the hell out of his brother’s room before he really did wake up. He zipped and buttoned his fly, covered Nathan’s half-dressed form with an extra blanket from the chair by the bed, and hurried to the door, breathing a sigh of relief as he turned the knob and opened it.
Before he could step through it, Nathan said, “Hey. Wait.”
Damn it! Peter thought, fear and shame filling him once again.
Mortified, he stopped dead and waited for Nathan’s angry reaction. But Peter certainly wasn’t expecting the next words he heard in his brother’s voice, now clear and alert--
“You should do that to me again sometime, Pete."