Business and Pleasure

A/N: No spoilers, just general knowledge required. Written for the prompt: AU Matt as ex-cop bodyguard for famous Petrelli boy star (or both) who is being stalked by a serial killer.

“Damn it, Nathan! Who ordered this costume? These pants are too tight and they make my ass look flat. Look!” Peter moaned, squeezing his left ass-cheek and lifting it. “And the front leaves nothing to the imagination!” Peter complained, pulling at the crotch of the sleek black pants. “I might as well go in front of the camera naked!” he shrieked.

That would certainly be a blockbuster, Nathan thought, eyeing his brother’s ass appreciatively while Peter squirmed and grumbled. He smiled at his brother’s angry reflection in the mirror. The pants were perfect; the material clung to the curves of Peter’s buttocks and thighs like a second skin. Peter hadn’t turned around to face him yet, so he couldn’t see if he was right about the front. Oh, but he could imagine…

Nathan wanted to tear the pants off him that instant, but he couldn’t do that, not with Peter’s most recent bodyguard-slash-boyfriend standing right there. Not even though you were mine first. He took in a deep breath to calm himself and willed all the blood in his body to stop its sudden rush to his groin.

“Just relax, Pete. I’m sure it’ll look fine on camera. If you don’t like the way your ass looks maybe you could hit the gym a bit more,” Nathan said, catching Peter’s eyes in the mirror from across the dressing room, making sure he would notice the covetous gleam in his own.

Peter ignored him and turned to the makeup artist who was standing next to him impatiently tapping her foot. “Carrie? Could you make sure to cover these circles under my eyes?”

Nathan studied Peter’s reflection; he was a bit pale and looked like he’d hardly slept. “Maybe if you didn’t stay out all night you wouldn’t look so tired. You should really start taking better care of yourself. It’s going to catch up with you sooner or later,” Nathan admonished.

Peter just glared at him and snapped, “Shut up.” He turned back to Carrie again. “Could you use more purple eye shadow this time? And a lot of eyeliner? And maybe some…”

Nathan heard no more of the conversation as Peter slumped down into the makeup chair. The makeup artist started shuffling through the mess of bottles and color palettes trying to find the products Peter wanted her to use.

After a few moments, the bodyguard’s walkie-talkie bleeped some intelligible garbled transmission that only those in the profession seemed to understand, and he walked over to Peter, kissed him and said, “I have to go. You look wonderful, by the way.”

Peter whirled in the chair, his black-lined eyes filled with tears. “No I don’t! You always lie to me! Get out! You’re fired!”

“Stop that right now before you ruin it and I have to do it again!” Carrie shouted. She pulled Peter’s head toward her and started dabbing gently at his face.

Nathan turned away, shaking his head. Did Peter always have to be so melodramatic about everything just because he was an actor?

The bodyguard pushed past Nathan, throwing down his security credentials and his equipment. “Your brother is a prima donna mental case. Make sure they up his fucking medication,” he bellowed, before slamming the door behind him.

Nathan walked over to where Peter sat and rested his hands on Peter’s shoulders.

“Why did you do that? You know you can’t keep dating your bodyguards and then firing them on a whim. You shouldn’t mix business with pleasure, Pete. I told you that a long time ago.”

Peter continued to glare at him while the makeup artist repaired her work. “You’re just jealous,” he said, the faintest hint of a smirk on his face.

Nathan locked eyes with him in the mirror again, and he was momentarily lost in that brooding dark gaze. The makeup Carrie was applying just added to the effect.

Maybe I am, he thought. Peter looked so pretty when he was angry, and it made Nathan want him even more.

“Carrie, could you, ah, give me a little time alone with him?” Nathan asked. “You know he can’t remember his lines if he’s upset. I’ll calm him down.”

Carrie left the two of them alone, and Nathan locked the dressing room door. “This is the third time. It’s getting old. Really.”

Peter sighed theatrically. “Guess you’ll have to find me another one, Nathan. Or my stalker might catch me and kill me. You wouldn’t want that on your conscience, would you?” he taunted, digging around in the drawer where he kept his Valium. He shook out two little blue pills and swallowed them with a sip of water from a bottle. Nathan wondered if he had a prescription for those, but he held his tongue.

“Famous Petrelli boy-star found murdered outside Manhattan hotspot,” Peter pretend-quoted, making kissing faces at Nathan in the mirror.

Nathan wanted to slap the shit out of him. Disrespectful little brat. “Don’t even joke about that. You know what kind of shit I go through for you.”

Peter got up and turned around, flipping his longish hair out of his face in a provocative gesture, batting his eyelashes, wetting his lips. “I’m sorry.”

Nathan knew just how to make Peter mean that. “No, you’re not. You’re an actor, for Christ’s sake. You love manipulating everything around you. Getting all the attention. Save the damn drama for the big screen, Pete, or one day I’m not going to be there to clean up your messes.”

As expected, those words put a worried look in Peter’s purple-shaded eyes. “I could…make it up to you,” he offered, his slim fingers playing at Nathan’s belt buckle.

“I don’t think so,” Nathan said, pushing his hands away.

Peter persisted, just as Nathan expected he would. “Come on. I know you like my pants,” he whispered, rubbing up against Nathan’s thigh. Nathan took in a sharp breath. He could feel Peter’s hardness through the fabric of his dress slacks as though Peter were wearing nothing.

“They really are too tight, Nathan,” Peter insisted. “Help me get them off?”

Nathan kissed Peter softly, pretending to finally give in. “Oh, all right.”

He made a production of lifting the costume shirt carefully over Peter’s head; God forbid he smudged his touched-up maquillage. Nathan searched at Peter’s hip for the zipper, but it wouldn’t budge; a stray thread had gotten caught between the teeth. Peter made impatient noises, grinding himself against Nathan’s hips, nipping and biting distractingly at his neck, and Nathan hissed, “Could you fucking stop moving so I can get the zipper down?”

“No time. Carrie’ll be back soon,” Peter said, dropping to his knees. He ran his hand up and down the front of Nathan’s pants. “I just want to suck you off anyway,” Peter said, wetting his lips again.

“Do it then,” Nathan grunted. His brother never failed to amaze him. One minute Peter was with another man, and the next, Peter was all over him.

“Why are you such a slut?” Nathan asked gently.

Peter smirked and slid his hands under Nathan’s shirt, pressing them to his stomach, sending shivers down Nathan’s back. He opened Nathan’s zipper and took him in his hand, coaxing him to a full erection. “Because you’re easy.”

“Smart ass,” Nathan said. His breath left him in a weak sigh as Peter traced the tip of his tongue around the head of his cock. Nathan tried to make him take more, but Peter kept pulling back, just flicking his tongue at him. Nathan leaned back against the wall, threaded his fingers through Peter’s hair and groaned.

Peter kept teasing him with feather-light kisses and licks, but Nathan desperately needed him to get on with it. Their life was on a schedule. They didn’t have that kind of time right now. It seemed they never did, not since Peter’s movie career had finally taken off.

Losing his patience, Nathan held Peter’s head still and thrust forward, a satisfied sound escaping his throat as he felt the heat of Peter’s mouth. He closed his eyes while Peter’s tongue and lips slid down around him and back up, over and over in practiced fluid motion. No one could do this quite like his brother.

When he opened his eyes finally, he was mildly amused to see Peter rubbing himself furiously through his pants, his nostrils flaring as he took in deep, desperate breaths.

There was a knock at the door, and Peter choked and pulled away, startled. His eyes were tearing, and his eyeliner started to run.

Shit! Nathan thought. Carrie was going to have a fit when she saw Peter’s yet-again-ruined makeup.

Nathan’s groin ached with the demand for release. Peter couldn’t stop now. No way. Not this close.

“Hold on, Carrie!” Nathan said, the words coming out in a strangled whisper.

“Everything all right, Mr. Petrelli?” she asked.

“Fine--ahh--fine, we’re fine, everything’s--ahh--fine,” Nathan asserted, Peter’s mouth closing around him once again.

“Hurry the fuck up, Pete,” Nathan commanded, keeping his voice low. “I’ll be damned if I let you stop now.”

The pressure built up again quickly while Peter sucked frantically, and when Nathan came, he and Peter both let out muffled groans. When Peter finished swallowing, he crashed quite ungracefully to the floor and threw his head back in laughter, black streaks running down his cheeks. “I think I ruined them,” Peter laughed.

Nathan tucked himself away and buckled his belt, and saw that Peter had managed to get himself off too, a stain across the front of his pants.

“Oh, Christ. You’re damn lucky they ordered two sets,” Nathan said, helping him up. Peter put his arms around him, and tilted his face up for a kiss.

“Oh, come on! That’s disgusting!” Nathan said, jerking away, spitting into his hand. Peter hadn’t swallowed it all, and had passed him some during the kiss. “You’re fucked up, you know that?” Nathan cursed, wiping off his hands, then taking a sip out of Peter’s water bottle.

Peter continued to laugh, wiping the streaked makeup off his face. “I think you taste good, Nathan.” He wriggled out of the ruined pants quickly. Nathan found the other costume and threw it at him.

“Now I have to go find you a new damn bodyguard, you little brat. I swear, keep your hands off this one, because you’re not allowed to fire him. Only I am. Got it?”

Peter nodded and gave him a guilty look, but Nathan doubted his sincerity. He’s an actor, Nathan reminded himself. He couldn’t help but smile though; he just couldn’t stay mad at Peter for long. His tone softening, he said, “You know all you have to do is come to me. Your ass was mine first, anyway.” He slapped Peter’s bare buttock playfully, and then watched while Peter dressed.

Peter spun around and said, “These fit a lot better, right? I think the other ones were a size too small.” Nathan shook his head disdainfully; they looked exactly the same.

“Yeah. Just don’t ruin them, okay?” He went to the door, unlocked it, and started flipping through his cell phone, avoiding Carrie’s eyes. She came in, and she looked at Nathan curiously.

“You’ve got something on your face there,” she noted, smiling broadly.

Nathan checked his reflection in the phone’s screen; some of Peter’s makeup had rubbed off on his cheek.

“Thanks,” he grumbled, wiping it off and exiting before she could see the flush of embarrassment spreading over his face and neck. Not that she, or anybody else for that matter, probably didn’t have some idea of what he and Peter sometimes did behind closed doors, much as he tried to keep it secret.

Nathan suddenly felt ashamed of himself, as he often did after things like that happened with Peter. How could he continue to encourage this clandestine sexual relationship with his brother when it was a threat to everything they both had worked for? Not to mention it was an even bigger threat to Peter’s mental well-being; Nathan was almost sure that many of Peter’s self-destructive tendencies stemmed from the fact that Nathan hadn’t been able to keep his hands off him since Peter had turned eighteen.

I have other things to worry about right now, Nathan reminded himself, pushing the guilt away as quickly as it had come.

As he walked away from the dressing room, he heard Carrie shriek at Peter, “What the hell happened to you? Get in that chair right now! You have to be on the set in half an hour!”

***

The next afternoon, Nathan was sitting at his desk, flipping through yet another newspaper, scanning through the employment section. He could feel a headache coming on; he’d been at this for hours without finding a single likely prospect. He read through a bunch of stupid articles advertising everything from “Purebred Rottweiler Puppies! They’re So Cute!” to “Experienced Live-In Nanny for Hire!” but saw nothing that even remotely read anything like, “Security Guard Looking for Work Protecting Unstable, Selfish Movie Star!”.

“This is such bullshit,” he groaned, turning on the computer. He hated putting ads on the Internet, but the papers had proved worthless. Nathan really wanted to strangle Peter for putting him through this yet again.

He got up and went over to the bar in the corner, selected a bottle of Scotch, and poured himself a generous shot. The burn of the alcohol spread through him, somewhat calming his rattled nerves. Peter’s antics had literally driven him to drink.

“There’s someone to see you, Mr. Petrelli,” his assistant buzzed over the intercom. “His name is Matt Parkman.”

“Parkman? Send him in,” Nathan said. He checked his reflection in the mirror and found himself looking as rough around the edges as he felt. He ran his fingers through his hair, smoothed his shirt front, and adjusted his tie.

Matt Parkman had been his last resort. He’d remembered his name from an article he’d seen in the New York Times announcing Detective Parkman’s resignation from the New York City Police Department. Apparently there had been some sort of problem with the handling of a crime scene in a double-homicide Parkman had been working on, and the case had ultimately been thrown out of court. Parkman hadn’t been directly responsible for the slip-up, but the embarrassment it had brought upon the department had been a major factor in his decision.

From the additional information he’d gleaned through his contacts about Parkman, Nathan had felt he would make a good candidate; Parkman’s prior work in the field had been impeccable. He had merely been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

One thing Nathan had been sure of: Peter definitely wouldn’t want to fuck this guy. He was married, kind of plain-looking, a little stocky, not at all Peter’s type.

Who are you kidding? Peter’s type is anyone with a dick.

Parkman hadn’t sounded all that interested on the phone, but Nathan had offered him quite a bit of money, probably more than he’d make in ten years on the force, and Parkman had said he’d let him know. Nathan had just known Parkman would show up; he’d have been stupid not to.

Nathan gave Parkman his brilliant, practiced smile and held out his hand. “Hello, Mr. Parkman. I’m Nathan Petrelli. Peter Petrelli’s agent.”

Parkman smiled and shook his hand vigorously. “Keep it a family affair, I see?”

Nathan pulled his hand back and eyed him. “What did you say?”

“Well, I mean, Peter is your brother, right?” he said anxiously.

Nathan disguised his discomfort with a laugh. “Yes, of course.”

You really need to calm down. If anybody really knew about his relationship with his brother, Peter’s career would have already been ruined and Nathan wouldn’t even be having this conversation right now.

But Nathan couldn’t shake the uneasiness he felt towards this guy. Could he have found some information about them on the Internet? God only knew what kind of crap people posted on those entertainment websites. Parkman had been a cop, after all. He would have definitely looked into this opportunity before showing up.

Despite his misgivings, Nathan knew he really had no other choice. His brother needed protection.

Peter had been attacked a few months ago while at a bar with his cast mates in Chelsea. Peter had narrowly escaped, and had later identified the man from police mug shots. The man who had attacked him was a suspect in another stalking case, but he had eluded arrest to date, which meant he was still out there, still possibly following Peter around. Nathan wanted Peter safe at all costs, and he was making it nearly impossible with his pattern of fucking and then firing his bodyguards.

He explained all this to Parkman (minus the part about his brother’s sexual activities) and Parkman listened attentively while Nathan drained a second glass and watched Parkman go very easy on his first. Nathan’s initial reservations diminished the more he spoke with Parkman.

Not much of a drinker. Straight, married, relatively smart, experienced…can’t really ask for more than that. Peter’s going to hate him. He’s perfect.

Nathan then realized that not only did Parkman’s job include protecting Peter from the stalker, but from himself as well. In order to do that effectively, he had to know a bit about Peter’s habits.

Nathan said, “One more thing, and I expect your full discretion in regards to this. Peter has been diagnosed with depression, and sometimes drinks a bit too much, among other things. He also prefers the company of men, if you understand what I’m saying.”

Parkman nodded. “I understand perfectly. I take it that’s not exactly public knowledge.”

“Exactly. I would prefer to keep it that way, as would he, for the sake of his career.”

Nathan got to his feet and extended a hand; Parkman followed suit. “All right, Mr. Parkman, I think I’ve seen all that I need. You’re hired; you can start today, pending you accept the terms of your contract. Today can be your…orientation, if you will. Get a feel for what the job entails. I’ll have my lawyer draw up the contract tonight and you can look it over in the morning. I trust you’ll be quite happy with what I’m prepared to offer you.”

“I’m sure I will. It’s going to be a pleasure working with you, Mr. Petrelli.”

Maybe with me. Not so much with Peter.

“Call me Nathan,” Nathan said, surprised at how easily he had come to like this guy.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Petrelli, I just wouldn’t feel comfortable with that,” Parkman declined.

Nathan inwardly agreed; he needed to keep a professional demeanor when it came to the business. Nathan asked, “Would you like to meet your assignment?”

“Absolutely,” Parkman answered, an eager smile on his face. “I’ve never really met anybody famous before. I mean, I’ve seen celebrities, but I never actually got to talk to them, let alone work for them…”

Nathan smiled to himself as he walked with Parkman to the elevator. Parkman would most likely be so star-struck that he wouldn’t even know what to do around Peter. Now Peter would have no choice but to go to Nathan for what he needed. Nathan licked his lips and looked forward to finally spending some real quality time with his brother.

***

When Nathan and Parkman walked onto the set, Peter was in the middle of a heated argument with James Franco, the director. The rest of the cast stood around sighing and rolling their eyes and talking amongst themselves. The soundstage was a mess; lighting fixtures had been knocked over, and a drum set and an electric guitar lay in pieces.

“It’s not my fault I tripped over the microphone cord!” Peter exclaimed.

Franco countered, waving his hands frantically, “It is your fault that you weren’t paying attention to your cue! You haven’t gotten one scene right since we started today. This is just terrible! We have to stop filming until we can replace the broken instruments.”

Peter opened his mouth to retort, but Franco shouted, “I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses! Get off my set, Petrelli. You’re a disgrace to your profession.”

Nathan gritted his teeth and said, “Excuse me, Mr. Parkman.”

Peter looked like he might actually get physical with the director, so Nathan pushed Peter away and said, “Pete, go and wait for me over there.” He then asked, “What’s the problem here, Mr. Franco?”

Franco pulled Nathan aside and said, “Mr. Petrelli, I really hate to say this, but if your brother shows up on this set under the influence of alcohol or drugs one more time we’re going to have no choice but to replace him with someone who actually wants to work. We’re three weeks behind schedule already!”

Nathan said, “All right, all right, calm down. What happened?”

Franco motioned at the broken instruments and toppled lights and microphone stand. “He missed his cue, for the fifteenth time today, and the singer moved on her cue, and he tripped over her microphone line. She twisted her ankle. He’s caused another production day to be delayed, and not to mention the monetary damages…”

Nathan waited for the director to finish his endless list of problems that Peter had caused since the start of filming, and wondered, Can a single day go by without Peter doing something to get on my nerves?

“…he needs to go and sleep it off and get his head on straight. This is his last chance, Mr. Petrelli. I have three other actors who would give an arm and a leg to take his role.”

“All right. I’ll talk to him about this. I’m sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Franco,” Nathan said, shaking his head, anger building up in him.

Glancing over at Parkman, Nathan said, “I’ll be right back. There’s something I need to take care of.”

Nathan grabbed Peter by his collar and dragged him out to the hallway. “Hey! What are you doing?” Peter protested.

Peter’s pupils were fully dilated, and he was breathing fast and sweating profusely. Nathan knew exactly what that meant.

Oh, Peter. Not again.

“You’re an asshole, you know that? I told you to stop with the coke. You’re gonna fucking kill yourself. We won’t have to worry about you being stalked or murdered.”

“I’m sorry, Nathan,” Peter said. “I’m just upset about my ex. He won’t call me back and it was stupid what I did yesterday and I was up all night drinking. I just did a little, just so I could stay awake. I promise it wasn’t a lot.”

Peter looked like he was on the verge of tears, and Nathan felt a stab of worry. What the hell was he doing? Peter was already taking antidepressants and drinking too much. If Peter wanted to stay awake why didn’t he just have a cup of coffee like a normal person? What if the real reason he was starting up with the cocaine again was that he couldn’t deal with the way things were between him and Nathan? Like the last time?

The last time Peter had done this, Nathan had been seeing someone and Peter had been insanely jealous. He’d gotten himself so sick Nathan had neglected his partner to take care of Peter and it had ruined the relationship.

Before he could voice any of these thoughts, Peter curved his body into Nathan’s arms and hugged him hard.

Nathan said, “Okay, okay. Come on, I won’t be angry if you give me whatever you have left.” That wasn’t entirely true, but Nathan let him think it anyway. He knew he shouldn’t indulge him, but it wouldn’t help to keep yelling at him right now. Peter was upset enough.

“I don’t have any more,” he insisted.

“You’re lying. Give it to me now.”

“It’s in my dressing room,” Peter finally conceded.

“All right.”

Nathan pulled back and looked at his brother closely. Aside from the chemical high he was on, Peter looked extremely tired; Carrie’s expertise hadn’t quite been able to hide the dark shadows under his eyes. For a moment, Nathan just wanted to tell Parkman to come back tomorrow so Peter could get some sleep, but he changed his mind. He’d been letting Peter get away with way too much lately. Peter really had to learn to be responsible for himself. No matter how tired he was, Peter would just have to deal with it for the rest of the day so they could entertain Matt Parkman.

“I’ve found you a new bodyguard. He’s waiting to meet you, and you look like shit. Let’s go get you cleaned up so you’re relatively presentable. We’ll sit and have a few drinks with him--well, at least, I will. Then you’re going to get some sleep and start fresh in the morning. All right?”

“Okay,” Peter said. “Was that him, the guy who came in with you? Is he gay?”

“Don’t be a jerk,” Nathan warned.

“Sorry,” Peter said, his lips curling into that lopsided smile Nathan couldn’t resist. “But is he?”

Nathan gave him a kiss and said, “No. I made sure he wasn’t. No more boys. Just me. Sex is supposed to be about love, you know. I love you, Pete. None of those other ones do. Promise you’ll just be mine for now?”

“Yeah, all right.”

Even as Peter said those words, Nathan knew he wouldn’t listen. He never did. Nathan wondered why he even bothered.

Because you love him more than you should.

“Good. Now come on,” Nathan said.

***

Half an hour later, a shower had done Peter a world of good, and had given Nathan time to find his stash and flush it. They were in the back of a limousine headed to a restaurant in Midtown, accompanied by Matt Parkman.

Peter had proceeded to sulk and be miserable until Nathan let him have a drink. Nathan had been hitting the alcohol hard after the earlier stress of the day and was feeling pretty buzzed himself.

“So, Mr. Parkman, tell me a little more about yourself,” Nathan said, tapping the ash from his cigar into an ashtray.

“Call me Matt.”

“I’d really rather not, Mr. Parkman, with all due respect. Please, continue.”

“Okay, well, I’m originally from Los Angeles. I moved here a few months ago to work for the NYPD. Well, you can see how great that turned out. Nothing’s been going all that great for me lately. I was married but my wife and I recently filed for divorce. We didn’t quite see eye-to-eye on most things in our marriage.”

Nathan found himself inexplicably staring at Parkman while he talked, wondering why he and his wife had separated. There was something about him that Nathan had taken a shine to. He was actually a good-looking guy, and not quite as stocky as his picture in the paper had made him out to be. Of course, he had nothing on Peter; Peter was breathtakingly gorgeous, but Peter was his brother, and a bad habit that Nathan couldn’t break. Nathan could see himself with someone like Parkman. Too bad he was straight.

Nice going. You tell Peter to stay away from the boys and now look at this. You want to fuck this guy.

Peter hadn’t noticed any of this, luckily; he appeared to be drifting in and out of sleep, no doubt having crashed from his high.

The limousine hit a pothole, and suddenly Parkman started coughing, spluttering his drink all over himself.

“Are you all right?” Nathan asked, patting him on his back while Parkman struggled for air.

“Sorry, it--uh--went down the wrong way--”

When Parkman’s face eased, Nathan handed him a few cocktail napkins so he could clean himself up. His violent coughing fit had awakened Peter, and he mumbled, “Are we there yet?”

“Not yet,” Nathan answered. “You know, Peter, you should really try to stay awake. You’ll be spending a lot of time with Mr. Parkman. You ought to get to know him,” he suggested.

“Okay,” Peter said, nodding off again.

Nathan shook his head disapprovingly. “I apologize for my brother. He’s got a very busy schedule, and he didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Parkman chuckled. “I can see that,” he noted. “It’s all right. I guess movie stars are just like the rest of us.”

Nathan laughed a little bit too loudly. Nothing about the Petrelli family was normal. He almost felt bad for dragging Parkman into the middle of their insanity, but at least he’d be well paid for it.

The limousine came to a stop, and Nathan slapped Peter’s cheek until he snapped awake. “Okay, okay, I’m up!” Peter insisted.

The three men exited the limo and managed to make it into the restaurant without Peter’s presence drawing too much attention.

***

As discreet as Nathan tried to be about his interest in Parkman, Peter finally noticed. When Parkman excused himself to use the restroom, Peter punched him in the arm and said, “You’re fucked up.”

Nathan feigned innocence. “Why’s that, Pete? Still pissed off that I flushed your drugs? Get over it and have a damn drink.”

“You know it’s not that, Nathan. I see how you’re looking at him. Like you usually look at me. You’re a hypocrite.” Peter poured himself a glass of wine and drank half of it, then pushed his pasta around on his plate and was silent.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Just you and me for now, I promise. Once Mr. Parkman goes home, it’ll just be you and me. All night.”

“Okay.” Peter leaned in closer to him and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. “Maybe I don’t need someone else. Maybe I just see other guys because I feel like I’m not good enough for you. You’re always good to me.”

Peter went back to his pasta, and Nathan felt a twinge of guilt, sitting here ignoring him when Peter needed him. Peter was an expert at making Nathan feel like the bad guy. Maybe Peter didn’t really see it as a big problem that they were so inappropriately involved with each other, and maybe he didn’t care that it was wrong. But he did know how Nathan felt about it, and used it to his advantage whenever he could.

But he does care. He wouldn’t be so self-destructive if he didn’t.

Now was not the time for that conversation, and Nathan didn’t really know what else to say, so he just returned to his meal in silence.

Parkman returned, and it was clear that he sensed the tension. He talked to Peter mostly, but kept trying to engage Nathan in their conversation. Nathan merely nodded and answered briefly when he needed to. Peter drank more heavily, and started getting overtly flirtatious with the former detective, who appeared very uncomfortable with Peter’s blatant advances.

He’s straight. Neither one of us has a chance.

It was like some sort of cosmic joke.

***

The limousine made a stop at the studio; Peter had forgotten something in his dressing room. Parkman offered to walk him inside, and Peter made a show of being eternally grateful for Parkman’s concern.

“Just getting the hang of my new job,” Parkman insisted.

Nathan wasn’t really ready to let Peter go off with Parkman just yet, and he accompanied them inside as well.

Nathan stayed by the exit door, and watched while Parkman walked with Peter down the hallway towards his dressing room. Peter opened the door and went inside.

After a moment, he burst out and exclaimed, “Matt! I think there’s someone in there!”

Nathan hurried up to him while Parkman checked out the dressing room and the surrounding corridors. “It’s all clear, Mr. Petrelli,” Parkman called out. “Someone was definitely in his dressing room, though. His clothes are all over the floor, and someone went through his personal items.”

Peter really seemed shaken, and he said, “Nathan, I think maybe Matt should stay in our guest room for the night. I’d feel a lot better.”

Nathan was almost certain that Peter had an ulterior motive behind his request and might have even staged the scene in the dressing room. He had every intention of saying no, then changed his mind. What if there really had been someone lurking around? If something happened to his brother just because Nathan was feeling vindictive, he’d never be able to forgive himself.

“All right. Would that be a problem for you, Mr. Parkman?”

“Not at all, Mr. Petrelli.”

Nathan said, as an afterthought, “You’ll be paid for your time, of course.” He turned his head so that Parkman couldn’t see him and he rolled his eyes at his brother. Peter gave him a snotty look in return.

Nathan pulled out his phone and called the police so he could report the incident.

I’m never getting home tonight, he agonized while they waited for the police to arrive.

***

Nathan settled himself under his covers, and was just about to doze off when Peter crept into the bed beside him and curled up against him. The feel of Peter’s skin against his sent a jolt of excitement through him.

I knew you’d come, Nathan thought, slipping his arms around Peter’s naked body. I finally get some time with you.

He nuzzled his face into Peter’s neck and lined his hips up with Peter’s ass, rubbing up against him until he was hard. Peter just shifted away and turned onto his back.

What the hell is this? Peter should have been all over him by now.

“Peter, wake up. You smell good,” he said, tucking his head under the blanket, kissing the soft skin of Peter’s shoulder, his chest, moving down the firm plane of Peter’s stomach. “Taste even better.”

“Nathan, don’t, okay? I’m tired and I just want to go to sleep. Please?”

Nathan sighed. He ran his palms up and down Peter’s thighs, hoping he could convince Peter to stay awake a little longer. “Come on, Pete. You’re a tease, you know that? Coming in here naked and then having the nerve to tell me no?”

“Nathan, I’m tired!” Peter complained. “If you can’t control yourself I’m just gonna go to my own room then,” he grumbled.

Nathan got out from under the blankets and pulled him in close before Peter could get out of the bed. He said, “All right, all right, I’ll let you sleep. Maybe in the morning?”

Peter leaned into him and draped an arm across his chest. “Yeah. In the morning.”

Nathan closed his eyes and figured he’d just have to be happy with this until tomorrow.

***

Nathan’s cell phone woke him. It was hardly even light out yet. “Petrelli,” he mumbled. He half-heard his lawyer’s assistant courteously informing him that Parkman’s contract had been drawn up and was on his desk at the office, just waiting for signatures.

“Yeah, all right, I’ll be there soon.” Nathan clicked the cell off.

Not until I have you, Peter. He reached over for him, but curiously he wasn’t there. Peter was not normally the type to get up early. Was Peter really that pissed off at him for what had happened at dinner last night?

Nathan stood up and put on his robe, went to the bathroom, and brushed his teeth. Right after he turned off the water, he heard soft sounds coming from the direction of the guest room, the door open a crack.

He peeked inside, and could this possibly be? Was that Peter in Matt Parkman’s bed? In lingerie? With Parkman’s dick in his mouth?

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and ridiculously hoped that this was just a call-girl that bore a striking resemblance to his brother when he was made up like a woman.

Nope. Not unless this call-girl was also in possession of a dick underneath those black silk panties and was unforgivably flat-chested.

Nathan flung open the door and asked, “What the hell is this?” He tried not to laugh when he saw Parkman’s mouth drop wide open.

“This--this is not what it looks like, Mr. Petrelli!” Parkman stammered, pushing Peter away from him. Peter rolled over and gave Nathan a smirk and a wave, showing off a perfect set of long, fire-engine red fingernails.

“Yes it is,” Peter breathed, reaching beneath the panties and giving himself a few quick strokes. Peter’s lipstick was smudged, but other than that, he was obscenely beautiful. Nathan’s cock stirred perversely at seeing his brother made up like this, touching himself like that. It wasn’t the first time, but this--this was really something special.

Peter had waxed--everywhere--and he was wearing three-inch black stilettos, the aforementioned panties, and nothing else. His hair was teased up in a decidedly feminine style, and his makeup was impeccable. He must have spent all morning getting ready for this. He had really outdone himself.

“Would you like to explain yourself, Peter?” Nathan tried to stay as stern as possible, trying not to give himself away just yet. He hoped the robe was loose enough to hide the fact that he was getting hard just looking at Peter. What he really wanted to do was jump right in that bed with both of them.

“Matt said he liked women,” Peter replied deadpan.

Parkman looked incredibly uncomfortable, and he wrapped the bed sheet around himself and stuttered, “I’ll--ah--just get dressed and leave. I know, I’m fired.”

Nathan shook his head and closed the door behind him. Peter had done this all on purpose. Peter really had been pissed off and jealous because Nathan had a thing for the former detective. He had probably been hoping this charade would get Nathan so angry he would fire Parkman and be forced to find Peter a new bodyguard, one more to Peter’s liking.

“Oh, no. Not at all. Peter went to a lot of trouble to pull this off, and I’ll be damned if it goes to waste.” Nathan enjoyed the look of astonishment on both Peter’s and Parkman’s faces as he let his robe drop to the floor, unmistakably aroused beneath his silk boxers.

Nathan pushed his boxers down, and then nudged Peter over so he could join the two of them.

“Your little plan backfired, Peter. So get back to what you were doing, and don’t mind me.”

Peter sighed in defeat. “It was worth a shot. Do you think I look pretty, Nathan?”

“Of course you do,” Nathan answered, wiping away the smudged lipstick with his thumb. Peter gave him a quick kiss and turned his attention back to Parkman.

“What do you think, Mr. Parkman? You like Peter all dressed up like this? Peter as a man didn’t do it for you?” Nathan asked, running a hand down Peter’s back, then inside the panties to squeeze a handful of his ass. He reveled in the utter confusion on Parkman’s face.

Parkman answered nervously, while Peter’s head dropped back into his lap, “No, but--uh--I--uh--experimented in college--”

Nathan nodded. “Okay. So I guess I don’t do it for you either. That’s fine. I won’t hold it against you.” He winked and gave Parkman a smile.

Parkman said, “Uh, Mr. Petrelli, I mean, you’re a good-looking guy and all--” Nathan cut him off by kissing him hard on his mouth, and Peter let out an outraged cry.

“Don’t even start, Peter. You’ll get yours,” Nathan hissed, and pushed his head back down.

He shuffled around in the nightstand drawer and found a bottle of lubricant left there from the last time he and Peter had used this bedroom. He enjoyed Parkman’s now extremely panicked look.

“Oh, no. This is one thing, but I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of thing, Mr. Petrelli.”

“Don’t be silly, Mr. Parkman. This isn’t for you.” Maybe one day. It hadn’t taken all that much for Peter to get in his pants. Maybe mixing business and pleasure wasn’t always a bad thing.

Peter raised himself up on his hands and knees, and Parkman gulped, “What--what the hell is going on? I thought you guys were brothers.”

“We are. Well, I guess for your sake, you could pretend he’s my sister, if you’re gonna let him keep blowing you. What’s your point?” Nathan asked.

He pulled Peter’s panties down, gave his ass an open-handed slap, and then snapped the cap open. He spread some of the lubrication in his hand, and then slid two fingers into him. He felt around for that little place in him, and worked on it until Peter’s back arched and he breathed, “Oh…yeah. Yeah. Nathan. Fuck me.”

Nathan said, “If you insist, Peter.” Parkman’s eyes grew even wider.
Nothing like incest for the shock value. Surprisingly, Nathan found himself not really caring what Parkman thought about this. He was sure Parkman would be discreet about it. No matter how wrong this was to anyone, including Nathan himself, Nathan loved his brother. If Nathan chose to show it in this way, and Peter accepted it and wanted it just as much, then how wrong could it really be? Maybe the only reason Peter acted the way he did was just because he needed Nathan’s attention any way he could get it.

Well, this was definitely effective, Peter.

“Oh, God. I thought I’d seen it all,” Parkman groaned. “I’m getting a blowjob from a gay movie star who’s dressed up like a woman and is about to get fucked by his brother. And I’m working for them. No one would even believe this. I don’t believe this.”

Peter let out a high-pitched laugh that changed to a moan when Nathan slid the head of his cock inside him. Nathan moved slowly at first; he loved the way Peter’s muscles seized and then relaxed as his body accommodated each inch of him.

Parkman watched in fascinated horror until Peter lowered his head once again. “I don’t believe this…” he repeated.

“So does that mean you want him to stop?” Nathan asked, raising an eyebrow. “Technically, you could just walk out right now, Mr. Parkman. Of course, then you’d be out of a job, in more ways than one.”

Parkman shook his head. “I really need this job,” he sighed.

“That’s what I thought,” Nathan said, chuckling.

Nathan reached beneath Peter and closed a hand around his cock while he pushed in the rest of the way just a little too roughly, and Peter let out a low whine. Nathan said, “Oh, God…you feel so damn good, Peter.” Nathan watched Parkman’s face relax while Peter’s head moved up and down in Parkman’s lap. “Do you agree, Mr. Parkman?”

Parkman nodded and said, “Yeah. Definitely.”

Parkman was now more comfortable with the whole situation, and thoroughly enjoying Peter’s expert technique, actually running his fingers through Peter’s hair and over his shoulders while Nathan took Peter hard from behind. Nathan listened as Peter’s muffled sounds became louder, and Parkman began grunting and cursing under his breath.

“Enjoying yourself, Mr. Parkman?” Nathan asked after a little while.

Parkman couldn’t answer; he was red in the face and sweating, close to orgasm. Peter’s body was shaking, and Nathan asked, picking up his rhythm, “You doing all right, Peter?”

Peter’s head came up and he sighed, “Yeah. Oh, yeah. Oh--Nathan--” Peter’s words ended in a shuddery breath as he came in Nathan’s hand. When he recovered, he demanded, “On my face, Matt. On my back, Nathan.”

Nathan laughed, “Whatever you say, Peter.” The muscles in Nathan’s back and thighs tensed, and he bit back a moan, forcing himself to hold off just a moment longer.

To Parkman, he said, “Damn, he’s a little slut. She. Whatever. Go on. Do what he says. You do work for him too. If you accept the contract, that is. I expect you will?”

Parkman breathed, after his come hit Peter in the face, “I just knew it would be a pleasure working with you, Mr. Petrelli.”

Nathan pulled out finally and directed his across Peter’s back, and breathing heavily, he insisted, “Oh, no, Mr. Parkman. The pleasure is all mine.”
***

A/N: Please rate and review, even if it's only a sentence. Thanks for reading.