2 of 2. Heroes fic!
Apr. 21st, 2007 10:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
heywilmaI rewatched Six Months Ago, and I just noticed that, omg, Peter lives in room 1407. This is just, really squee worthy. And it inspired me to write this. Not the room 1407 bit, but the actual episode.
Title: If I Found the Words
Characters/pairing: Peter, Nathan, Heidi
Rating: G
Summary: It’s an age old dilemma, and Peter hadn’t managed to find a way to bypass it- what do you do when you fall in love with your brother’s wife?
A/N: I've wanted to write this since the first time I saw Six Months Ago, because yea, I know Peter's lovely little hmm expression in that scene was probably in connection to the news about Linderman, but still! I couldn't help myself. It started off being drabble length, but it grew a little. And the lack of dialogue is probably really not noticeable to anyone except me, but yeah, I can't seem to write people talking, for some reason. >.>
Peter watched her dance. She had absolutely no sense of rhythm, swung her elbows more than was necessary, and stepped on quite a few toes. But she was still beautiful, her skirt swished and her necklaces glittered, her eyes sparkled and her laughter reminded him why he fell in love with her in the first place.
He watched them kiss. He watched and felt like a voyeur because he didn’t want to look away. An automatic smile on his face, because that was what he was supposed to have; he was supposed to be happy for them, supposed to hide his feelings, supposed to remember that she had always been someone else’s wife.
He had met her first, when he was still a freshman in college. She was the real estate agent who found him a place to stay, when he didn’t want to live in the dormitories, and she had came to his housewarming, because he was brought up to be polite to the people who had helped him. And that was all it was at the start, politeness, but then she had come wearing a beautiful green dress, with a bottle of nice champagne when all his other friends brought beer, and she laughed at one of his silly anecdotes and that was when he started to fall in love.
But then she met Nathan at the party, and she laughed more at his stories, and when the event was dwindling down, they shared a very tipsy kiss, and a taxi back to his place. And then he knew, when he was left with empty chip packets to clean up, that he had lost her before he’d ever had her.
Their wedding hadn’t been planned to be a particular lavish affair, but when one’s father was so high profile, it was inevitable. So he was jealous, jealous that all these guests- many of them who didn’t even know who she was- got to see her at her most beautiful. But he was happy for them at the same time his heart was dying a little, because even though he loved her, he loved his brother much more, and Nathan’s happiness was important, more important than his. It had been infectious- it carried over from the night before, the stag night, where, amidst the beers and the boobs, he yelled in Peter’s ear, I’m getting married tomorrow. He said it as a simple fact, not dressed up with fancy emotions, or dramatised with woe, and it was genuine, because he loved her, and she loved him back.
Peter desperately wanted to get drunk at the open bar, but he had promised his mother that he’d drive her home just before the reception, when there was already a hint of vodka about her.
He got a small nod during Nathan’s speech as the person who had introduced them, delivered with humour, and a promise that he’ll “get even” one day. The bride chose him to have her second dance with, and after Nathan sculled his drink, he took Peter’s hand and they waltzed across the room, drawing laughter and applause, and a very small frown from their father.
Life seemed to have settled down after the newlyweds got back from their honeymoon, and every time Peter forgot the feelings he used to have for her, it only took one smile, or a glance his way to remind him.
He doted on his nephews, because they had in them a little from the two people he loved most in the world. Sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder what their- his and hers, if she’d never met Nathan- children would be like, and then he would feel ashamed of himself for thinking it.
He wasn’t watching them when the kiss ended, and they were both unapologetic, because everyone was used to these displays of affection- they were known for it. When she stood up to fetch more alcohol, Nathan grinned at him. There were words in that simple gesture, and Peter smiled back, answering it the only way he knew how. His smile didn’t betray his feelings; they never did.
Then she came back, swinging her hips and her elbows between beats, so he held out his glass even though he didn’t need topping up. And the three of them shared this moment, one of them an outsider.
Title: If I Found the Words
Characters/pairing: Peter, Nathan, Heidi
Rating: G
Summary: It’s an age old dilemma, and Peter hadn’t managed to find a way to bypass it- what do you do when you fall in love with your brother’s wife?
A/N: I've wanted to write this since the first time I saw Six Months Ago, because yea, I know Peter's lovely little hmm expression in that scene was probably in connection to the news about Linderman, but still! I couldn't help myself. It started off being drabble length, but it grew a little. And the lack of dialogue is probably really not noticeable to anyone except me, but yeah, I can't seem to write people talking, for some reason. >.>
Peter watched her dance. She had absolutely no sense of rhythm, swung her elbows more than was necessary, and stepped on quite a few toes. But she was still beautiful, her skirt swished and her necklaces glittered, her eyes sparkled and her laughter reminded him why he fell in love with her in the first place.
He watched them kiss. He watched and felt like a voyeur because he didn’t want to look away. An automatic smile on his face, because that was what he was supposed to have; he was supposed to be happy for them, supposed to hide his feelings, supposed to remember that she had always been someone else’s wife.
He had met her first, when he was still a freshman in college. She was the real estate agent who found him a place to stay, when he didn’t want to live in the dormitories, and she had came to his housewarming, because he was brought up to be polite to the people who had helped him. And that was all it was at the start, politeness, but then she had come wearing a beautiful green dress, with a bottle of nice champagne when all his other friends brought beer, and she laughed at one of his silly anecdotes and that was when he started to fall in love.
But then she met Nathan at the party, and she laughed more at his stories, and when the event was dwindling down, they shared a very tipsy kiss, and a taxi back to his place. And then he knew, when he was left with empty chip packets to clean up, that he had lost her before he’d ever had her.
Their wedding hadn’t been planned to be a particular lavish affair, but when one’s father was so high profile, it was inevitable. So he was jealous, jealous that all these guests- many of them who didn’t even know who she was- got to see her at her most beautiful. But he was happy for them at the same time his heart was dying a little, because even though he loved her, he loved his brother much more, and Nathan’s happiness was important, more important than his. It had been infectious- it carried over from the night before, the stag night, where, amidst the beers and the boobs, he yelled in Peter’s ear, I’m getting married tomorrow. He said it as a simple fact, not dressed up with fancy emotions, or dramatised with woe, and it was genuine, because he loved her, and she loved him back.
Peter desperately wanted to get drunk at the open bar, but he had promised his mother that he’d drive her home just before the reception, when there was already a hint of vodka about her.
He got a small nod during Nathan’s speech as the person who had introduced them, delivered with humour, and a promise that he’ll “get even” one day. The bride chose him to have her second dance with, and after Nathan sculled his drink, he took Peter’s hand and they waltzed across the room, drawing laughter and applause, and a very small frown from their father.
Life seemed to have settled down after the newlyweds got back from their honeymoon, and every time Peter forgot the feelings he used to have for her, it only took one smile, or a glance his way to remind him.
He doted on his nephews, because they had in them a little from the two people he loved most in the world. Sometimes he couldn’t help but wonder what their- his and hers, if she’d never met Nathan- children would be like, and then he would feel ashamed of himself for thinking it.
He wasn’t watching them when the kiss ended, and they were both unapologetic, because everyone was used to these displays of affection- they were known for it. When she stood up to fetch more alcohol, Nathan grinned at him. There were words in that simple gesture, and Peter smiled back, answering it the only way he knew how. His smile didn’t betray his feelings; they never did.
Then she came back, swinging her hips and her elbows between beats, so he held out his glass even though he didn’t need topping up. And the three of them shared this moment, one of them an outsider.
