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[personal profile] ofthesounds
Title: Aftermath.
Fandom: Heroes.
Characters: Nathan & Peter Petrelli.
Prompt: A short one on Peter getting caught after that conversation -- giving a blowjob to another man and Nathan's reaction to the whole thing.
Word Count: 739 words.
Rating: M; spanking
Summary: Peter disobeys Nathan (after "Bread"), and Nathan takes things into his own hands.
Author's Notes: None.

“Nathan, I --”

“Shut up.”

Peter froze, but only for a moment. He couldn’t stand it when people were mad at him -- least of all Nathan. “But, Nath --”

Nathan’s hand connected solidly with the back of his brother’s neck, and he used enough force to make Peter cringe in pain. “I said ‘shut up,’ Peter. What fucking part of that do you have a problem with?” The words were growled out in a low, groveling tone.

There was no room left for argument.

Nathan Petrelli was pissed.

He was running a successful campaign, built on family and values and “understanding the working man.” After the bread incident, Nathan thought that Peter understood. He told him, both in words and in actions, and he thought that it was abundantly clear.

Peter was his, and his alone.

“We talked about this, didn’t we?” He asked, and Peter nodded softly in response. There was something ultimately thrilling about watching his brother submit completely to him. “This exact situation, as I recall.”

Peter just sat there in the back of the limo, knowing better than to attempt an answer.

“What did I tell you?” His jaws clenched as Peter dropped his eyes. “Answer me.”

Never before had Nathan used that tone with him, and Peter wasn’t entirely certain on how to react to it. “You told me not to...In public...”

Nathan’s hand tightened on the back of Peter’s neck and pulled him closer. “And what did you do?” The question came out whispered against Peter’s ear, but his displeasure in his brother’s actions was still more than apparent.

Such a simple question shouldn’t have twisted Peter’s stomach into a knot, but it did. “I was caught in public,” he responded quietly. He shoved his hands between his knees and pressed his knees tightly together in an attempt to get himself to calm down. He felt like a small child who had been caught with his fingers in a cake’s icing, even though he completely understood that this was much worse than that.

Without hesitation Nathan reached over and opened Peter’s pants. The swift movement made Peter jump, but he didn’t try to get away from Nathan. He knew better. He had no idea what Nathan was going to do, but it was sooner rather than later when he found out.

Nathan grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him across his lap. Yanking his pants down past the curve of his ass, Nathan left the dark blue jeans and boxers stay on his thighs. Without any other thought to it, Nathan’s hand started cracking down on Peter’s ass.

As soon as his pants were down Peter knew what was going to happen. Two things happened; his dick jumped to life all over again, and he let out a sharp cry as pain spider-webbed across his ass.

It wasn’t long before his skin was burning and had turned red completely. His throat was raw from crying out. Each smack that Nathan gave his ass made him hump the side of Nathan’s thigh. Between cries he gasped, his face pushed in near-desperation to the smooth leather seat.

One final blow was given, still as hard as the first had been, and Nathan gripped Peter’s ass cheek tightly. “Who do you belong to?” Nathan wasn’t quite as angry now, though he couldn’t seem to get the imagery of Peter sucking that other man off behind the strip club.

“You,” Peter gasped and writhed, pushing his ass in the air in a lame attempt to get more of Nathan’s hand on his bare skin.

“And do you know what your punishment is?”

Peter took note of the ‘is’ in Nathan’s sentence -- present tense. Fuck Rolling his eyes open, he looked up at his brother as best he could. “My... My spanking?” He asked, hopefully.

“No,” Nathan answered calmly and reached down, tugging Peter’s boxer shorts back up over his bright red ass. Peter hissed softly as Nathan’s hand rubbed the material over the marks he’d left. “You’re not going to come. Not until I tell you to.”

Peter started to whine, but quickly received a swat to his already sore ass. He wouldn’t sit right for a week.

“Not. Until. I. Tell. You. To.”
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February 2013

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