The L of the Lips Are Open

Summary: PWP tag for "Six Months Ago." What else happens at Peter's graduation party?
Pairing: Peter/Nathan
Rating: NC-17
Notes: hackthis came up with the idea so I didn't have to. Kate Bush came up with the title so I didn't have to.
Spoilers: Through "Six Months Ago"
Word Count: ~2200

The party starts at eight, so people start showing up at nine. It's a cool June night, and Peter leaves the windows open. He can hear the noise from the street drifting up to his windows—the high, happy laughter of girls out for the night, and the clatter of heels on the cobbled lanes. The first people to arrive are a gaggle of female nursing students, girls he escorted through rotations in the Chelsea projects, girls who adopted him as their surrogate older brother when they found Peter was four years older than the oldest of them.

They come to the party empty-handed, like their presence is the only gift they need, and it is—they make Peter feel old and responsible, ready to care for people instead of needing care. Being an older brother-type is strange and fun, and refreshingly unlike the rest of his life. They slip their shoes off as soon as they arrive, leaving them in a sparkly pile near the door. Peter busies himself getting drinks for them, smiling at their stories and their dramatic gestures.

Heidi, Nathan and Mrs. Petrelli arrive a little after ten, after an early dinner in Tribeca. Heidi is already a little drunk and happy, smiling too wide, and pressing her cool fingers against Peter's neck when she hugs him hello. His mom hides it better, but her affection is a little more physical than usual, and Peter knows she's not sober either.

It's been a while since Peter has seen any of them; scrambling to finish his field hours, taking the NCLEX, and getting a job all ate away at his free time. Nathan greets him at the door with a big smile, trying to hide his pleasure at seeing Peter under his silly gift, but Peter can see his little head-tilt when he hands Peter the shoes, and the slight softening of Nathan's mouth that says more than his words do.

"Where's the booze?" asks Nathan after Peter flings the white shoes carelessly in a corner. Maybe someone will spill something on them, and Peter won't have to figure out what to do with them.

Peter leads Nathan into the kitchen to get the top-shelf liquor. It's a small kitchen, but Nathan doesn't need to squeeze so close behind him to open a cabinet and take down a glass. It's nothing overt, but Peter can feel Nathan's chest brush his back when Nathan passes by and it's been so long that he can't help pressing back against Nathan a little.

"Still keeping the good stuff still in here?" asks Nathan.

"Yeah," says Peter. Peter watches Nathan's lips turn up slightly at the edges, watches his hands' efficient movements as he twists open the top of the Grey Goose. Nathan splashes some vodka on his fingers as he pours, and then puts them in his mouth so the high-quality alcohol won't be wasted—it's a typical Nathan move—but Peter wants to read more into it than that. Heat rises in his face as he watches. Nathan sees him looking and catches Peter's gaze with his own for a moment. Nathan doesn't have to say anything; they're already on the same page, planning their escape.

Nathan pours straight vodka with lime for Mrs. Petrelli and a glass of merlot for Heidi. Peter finds Nathan's favorite scotch for him, and heavy glass tumbler rather than a plastic cup, but Nathan says, "Save it for later, Pete," in a voice gone deep and uncivilized. Nathan can lie smoothly when he needs to, but there are some things he's not good at hiding—his voice gives him away, losing all its smooth edges when he's agitated, and Peter smiles again now, knowing he's the cause.

It's too easy, once they're in the same room together, moving toward the same goal. Peter doesn't like to think how easy, how all it takes is Nathan saying, "Peter and I have to talk over some stuff, okay?" to Heidi and kissing her neck, while never taking his eyes off Peter, and they're free.

There's a bathroom off Peter's bedroom, no more than a toilet and a ten-inch sink, but it's the only private place in the apartment right now. He knows why Nathan stays away, why that's necessary, but this is necessary too, and as soon as Peter closes the door Nathan is kissing his neck, murmuring things like "too long," saying his name and other things, barely audible, things that aren't meant even for Peter's ears.

This isn't quite a first—there have been other bathrooms, other parties, but this is different, the first time that Peter can almost feel the press of people behind the door, the first time he can hear Heidi's lilting laughter rise above the chatter. And Nathan seems different too, more urgent—he undoes Peter's belt and fly with one hand, and he has his fingers inside Peter's boxers before a minute has passed.

Peter slows him by laying one hand along the side of Nathan's face and lifting his chin up. Nathan won't meet Peter's eyes—he hates it when Peter makes him look at this, makes him confront what they're really doing, but that's not what Peter's after, not this time. "What's wrong, Nathan?" he asks.

"Not now," says Nathan. He bends his mouth back to Peter's neck and curls his fingers around Peter's dick. Peter is ready to give up and ask again later, but getting Nathan to reveal anything always requires a little push, and Nathan is his right now, for these few minutes. He'll answer if Peter wants him to.

"When, then?" asks Peter with a hitch in his voice. He tips his head back and rests it against the tile wall. This feels so good: Nathan's stubble scraping along his neck, his softer hair tickling Peter's nose, and his knowledgeable fingers tugging Peter toward the edge.

"After," says Nathan. "Now, I just want to see you come."

And now he's willing to look at Peter, to watch Peter convulse under his hands. He stares at Peter like he's studying him, a frown drawing a line between his eyebrows. Peter flushes when Nathan watches him like this, when he has Nathan's full attention, but it's a pleasureable sort of embarassment. He needs Nathan's eyes on him as much as he needs Nathan's hands.

"Yes," says Nathan, his voice both satisfied and greedy as Peter clings to him. Peter's legs almost give out when he comes, thrusting into Nathan's curled fingers, and Nathan has to half hold him up until it's over.

Nathan wipes his hand off on one of the beach towels that Peter uses as bath towels. Laundry day tomorrow, Peter reminds himself. Nathan takes off his suit jacket and places it on the closed toilet seat, careful, always, of his possessions. Nathan never worries about keeping Peter neat, but Peter has learned to make sure Nathan always looks pristine, untouched after these moments together.

Nathan looks expectant, and Peter knows what Nathan wants, but he likes to tease Nathan a little, to make him wait. He kisses Nathan on the lips; Nathan doesn't respond much at first, probably hoping that Peter is about to return to the script and drop to his knees, but Nathan likes this too, and soon he's kissing Peter back, pushing him up against the wall again hard enough to make the sink fixtures shake.

"I wish they weren't here," says Peter against Nathan's neck. He wants to bite and leave a mark like the ones Nathan left on him, but they have an agreement about that too, one Peter isn't ready to breach.

"It's your party," says Nathan, voice unsteady.

"It is now," says Peter.

Nathan tips his head to the side slightly and says softly, regretfully, "They're going to wonder soon."

Peter gives him a half-smile back. "Don't worry," he says, as he busies his hands working Nathan's trousers down. Nathan rarely wears underwear that Peter's noticed, and he isn't tonight. Peter smiles at that thought: that under Nathan's perfectly pressed suits, tailored close to his trim waist, he's flying free, the thin wool of his trousers curving right over the bare skin of his too-toned ass. His clothes, his workout regimen—it's all part of Nathan's boundless vanity, but Peter loves that about him too; of course Nathan loves himself—it's that the whole world doesn't that Peter can't understand.

Peter kneels down, pushes the tip of Nathan's cock past his lips, and fills his mouth with it. God, it has been too long—he wants Nathan inside him now, but this will have to do. He doesn't worry if his fingers bruise Nathan's thighs when he pulls Nathan's hips toward him, making Nathan fuck his mouth like he wishes Nathan was fucking him for real. He wants Nathan to come so hard it hurts, to make him regret waiting so long to visit.

"God, Peter," says Nathan. He buries his hands in Peter's hair, and Peter wishes he could see Nathan when he's like this, see the faces that go with those noises, see Nathan out of control.

Peter slows down a bit, swirling his tongue around the shaft, because he likes to remind Nathan that he's good at this, and makes Nathan's breathing ease just a little, backing him off from the edge. Peter slides his fingers up to stroke his balls, and hears Nathan say, "Yeah, soon."

Still unhurried, Peter slides his finger behind pushes it inside, feeling Nathan's cock jump in his mouth. "Peter," says Nathan, probably trying to sound stern, but his voice is pleading. He grabs Peter's hair harder, and moves Peter's head in a rhythm that Peter knows like a favorite song, until Peter feels Nathan coming in his throat. He comes hard, his hips bucking, but he's caught between Peter's mouth and his fingers, and Peter holds him there until Nathan's hands go slack in Peter's hair.

"Jesus, Pete," says Nathan. "That was new."

"You liked it," says Peter, diffidently. He can't quite look at Nathan. That isn't how it usually goes, and Peter hopes Nathan will find some way to make him pay other than his absence.

"You think you're going to get away with that?" Nathan pushes him up against the wall again, and if space weren't so tight in this bathroom, Peter wonders if Nathan would just bend him over right here, fuck him with whatever comes to hand as lube, fuck him like it's Nathan's birthright.

"Don't wait so long next time," says Peter as he stands up. Peter puts his hand on Nathan's chest, not to push him away, but just to feel him there, warm and solid and Peter's for a minute longer. Nathan frowns and Peter knows he's already beginning to distance himself from this again, turning from Peter's Nathan back into public Nathan, Heidi's Nathan. "Please," Peter adds.

Nathan opens his mouth to say something, but they hear Heidi laughing out in the party, and Nathan closes it. Peter is hard again, feeling Nathan's body pressed against him, as if Nathan didn't just jerk him off, and he parts his lips for a final kiss, but Nathan turns away from him toward the mirror. He adjusts his tie and smoothes down his hair, then picks up his jacket and opens the door slightly. "Wait here," he tells Peter, as if Peter doesn't know the drill already.

Peter sits down on the toilet seat and listens. "Peter? I think he's freshening up someone's drink," he hears Nathan say. "I'm sure he'll be back soon."

Peter splashes some water on his face and checks the marks reddening on his neck. Heidi and his mother will probably assume they're from one of the girls he's invited, and Heidi will give him a sly little smile when they leave—a smile that should make Peter feel guilty, but instead will make him feel smug.

Peter leaves the bathroom and makes a round through the party, flirting with a few girls, refilling wine glasses. Nathan has moved on from scotch to wine when Peter gets to the room where he and Heidi are sitting with Mrs. Petrelli. Peter wonders how long they'll stay at a party filled with nursing students, people the family doesn't know and doesn't need to know.

"You were going to tell me about that thing," says Peter after watching Heidi feed Nathan a carrot with some ranch dip on it.

"Oh, sure," says Nathan. He looks at Heidi. "You mind?"

"You promised me a dance," says Heidi with a good natured pout.

Nathan blinks slowly, and Peter can see him weighing his response. "Duty calls," he says, giving Heidi one of his opaque smiles.

He shoots Peter a long look as he slides his arm around Heidi's waist. The look is a pledge, a promise that says "you and only you." Peter smiles and watches them dance.


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