Title: Touching
Pairing: Nathan/Peter (one-sided)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 861
A/N: An attempt to get past my writer's block.
Summary: In the middle of any room, there was always something about Peter that drew your eyes to him.
In the middle of any room, there was always something about Peter that drew your eyes to him.
Maybe it was those sheepish smiles and simple conversation that never felt like it was just 'small talk'.
Maybe there was some way of sensing the selfless self-sacrificing personality.
Maybe it was just that hair.
Nathan had never been able to pin it down and define what it was; he just knew that, whenever Peter actually attended any of his political gatherings, it suddenly became a lot harder to focus on the task at hand.
As he tried to focus on charming the Senator in front of him, Nathan's attention kept wandering away into the room: Peter had dressed up, just for the occasion, and there was something about the novelty of a shirt and suit and a damn tie on Peter that made Nathan's fingers itch.
Peter had, as always, managed to collect a flock of women. There was something special about him, Nathan knew, that just drew them to him. Puppy dog eyes and the need to be loved, to be rescued. He was vulnerable in the same way that Nathan was powerful; it was all a fragile act.
He smiled pleasantly at the people he was talking to, and gave an excuse to get out of there. Long strides took him through the peopled room, past women in their perfect dresses and men in their sharp suits.
It felt like it took him too long to cross the room and place his hand on Peter's shoulder; his skin felt warm and tingled, like it always did when he got to touch Peter like this. The times when Peter wasn't mad at him and yelling nonsense seemed to be growing fewer.
"Hate to disappoint you, but I'm going to have to steal Peter for a few moments," he said, with a broad smile to Peter's fan club. The words made Peter glance up at him curiously, before going along with it and waving goodbye with a promise to be back later.
Hand still on Peter's shoulder, Nathan steered him out of the room and into the hallway, and from the hallway upstairs, and from there to the spare bedroom. The trip was made in silence, and it wasn't until he'd firmly closed the door behind him and leaned against it that a gentle smile appeared on Peter's face.
"You're such a kid, Nate," Peter murmured, as he moved into the room and flopped down on the bed. Against the floral and decorative sheets, Peter looked absolutely bizarre – like a polar bear placed in a playpen. "Running off to hide from the Big Bad party? Thought that was more my thing than yours."
Nathan smiled and shrugged, with no real explanation for Peter. They used to do this as kids, he could remember. Peter would get bored and would tug on his arm, and they'd disappear to watch dumb films and mock the adults downstairs.
Now they were the adults and the thought still unsettled Nathan's stomach when he dwelled on it; Peter still seemed to look and act like his kid brother, most of the time.
Not now.
No, not now. Not like this, lying back on the bed, loosening his tie and looking like the very definition of sex. He leaned back and closed his eyes, brushing those bangs out of his face.
Nathan forced himself to look away because he would not – would not – let himself think about Peter like that. Not any more; not since he'd jerked off hard, fast and eager after walking in on Peter and his boyfriend at the time.
'His boyfriend' – probably not how Peter had planned on coming out as a teenager, being caught pinned down to his bed by a man in his twenties, but Nathan still remembered it clearly. He still remembered it like he'd been there, like he'd been on top of Peter, like his hands had been holding Peter's wrists down lightly, like his mouth had been warm over Peter's, like his tongue had gently explored Peter's mouth and like it had been him that had taught his little brother how to kiss.
He swallowed hard, mouth dry suddenly, and pushed away from the wall. Within moments, he was sat on the edge of the bed, eventually lying next to Peter.
"It is more your thing. I just thought you looked like you could do with some rescuing."
Peter snorted his laughter, a rough sound that reminded Nathan of how he used to purposefully try to crack Peter up whenever he was drinking, just to see him choke and snort it out his nose. "Yeah, right. I needed it? You looked like you were about to fall asleep listening to Sally whatshername droning on."
"Her name's Sandra, actually, and she's a Senator."
Peter glanced towards him, a disapproving look from behind sleek black hair. "Not the point."
Nathan smirked, and shifted to put his arm around Peter's shoulder. "Yeah, I know," he admitted, but he didn't go further than that.
When Peter sighed and moved lean against him, head on his chest, Nathan swallowed again and tried to remind himself that this was just brotherly touching brotherly touching brotherly touching.