Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/5487.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Heroes_-_Fandom
  Relationship:
      Peter_Petrelli/Sylar
  Character:
      Peter_Petrelli, Sylar
  Additional Tags:
      AU, Pre-Series, First_Time, Incest, twin_'verse, Alternate_Universe_-
      High_School, Swimming_Pool
  Stats:
      Published: 2009-07-11 Words: 2347
****** The Bridge Is Crossed So Stand And Watch It Burn ******
by perdiccas
Summary
     Sometimes Gabriel thinks that his whole life has been a bluff.
Notes
     Title from 'The Phantom of the Opera'.
     In the twin 'verse, Peter and Gabriel are twin brothers. It explores
     how Gabriel would have been different if he had been born and raised
     a Petrelli, based on the S3 idea of Sylar as an abandoned son of
     Angela's.
     Gabriel and Peter are 17.
It’s too hot in the Hamptons. The sunlight reflects off Gabriel’s glasses,
blinding him momentarily as he steps outside. He hates it here, where everyone
is always drunk and going to another party. Everyone is blandly pretty and
everything they say is superficial. Gabriel looks down on them from behind the
masks he has created, slipping through society with a tart bon mot here and a
withering smile there. He smokes cigars and drinks cognac with his dad, rounds
out a hand at bridge when his mother needs one more to make a foursome. And
when he plays poker in the smoking den, he always wins the pot. Sometimes
Gabriel thinks that his whole life has been a bluff.
And the heat just makes it all the more unbearable. Sweat trickles down the
back of his neck and the polo shirt he wears is sticking to skin. Already it’s
feeling tight around his shoulders; he’s grown through three sizes this summer,
finally filling out his lanky frame. Through the thin cotton, he can see the
dark outline of the hair that’s now thick upon his chest and he wishes there
was another colour he could wear for tennis that wasn’t white.
Though he’s in his swim trunks, he doesn’t want to be outside, to be beside the
pool where everyone’s expected to lay about in next to nothing and pretend that
they aren’t being appraised from behind every passing pair of sunglasses. He
doesn’t feel comfortable yet, in this new body, and now when people look at him
from behind their champagne flutes and titter, he feels as if his masks are
cracking, that maybe they’re seeing more of Gabriel than Gabriel wants them to
see.
He stands at the water’s edge and watches Peter swim laps; a summer mostly
spent eating pizza and watching DVDs at Nathan’s place hasn’t ruined his form.
He glides through the water, too long hair slicked back and when he spots
Gabriel loitering, he pushes off underwater and darts towards him. Peter erupts
above the surface, water cascading down his shoulders and splashing Gabriel’s
feet. Gabriel’s sandals are starting to pinch and soon this pair will be yet
another that’s been grown out of.
“Jump in,” Peter says, resting his chin on tanned arms where he folds them on
the pool’s edge.
Gabriel shakes his head. “Come inside. It’s too hot.”
He tugs at his collar, lifts his elbow so Peter can see the sweat patch under
his arm, grinning at Peter’s mixed laugh and snort of disgust. He’s missed
this, being able to smile and really mean it.
“It’s cool in the water. Besides,” Peter says, stretching out on his back and
floating away. “I need to practice if I’m gonna make the varsity team.”
“C’mon, Gabriel,” he calls, softly adding, “It’s only us.”
And it’s been too long since either of them could say that; Nathan only has
room to let one of them stay the summer and Peter’s always been his favourite.
The last two weeks before the new school year starts, when their mom insists
that she have all her children gathered around her, is the only time Gabriel
really considers a vacation. So with a long suffering sigh he’s sure to heave
loud enough for Peter to hear, he strips off the cotton polo that’s sticking to
him like a second skin and wades carefully into the shallow end.
Gabriel folds his arms uncomfortably in front of his chest as Peter moves, wide
eyed towards him. He doesn’t know yet what Peter thinks of how much he’s
changed; “Gabe, you look…” is all he’d managed the night before as their mom
whisked him away.
But he has to know what Gabriel fears, not just because he’s Peter and Peter
could always see straight through those masks he likes to wear, but because
late at night, when the parties are winding down and Gabriel’s façade is worn
near bare, it’s Peter who Gabriel calls to talk him down. And now with Peter
here, just feet away instead of miles with the telephone between them, Gabriel
blushes to know how much he’s shared, wondering fretfully if it was, maybe, too
much.
Now, Peter’s close before him, keen eyes skating over Gabriel’s body. He hooks
his fingers around Gabriel’s wrist and pulls his arms from around his chest.
The lip of the pool presses into Gabriel’s spine as he unconsciously shifts
back. Above the chilled water, the tiles are warm from the sun and he shivers
at the confusing mix of warm and cool against his skin.
“Wow,” Peter breathes, quiet enough that Gabriel doesn’t think he means to
speak aloud. He drags his hand through the coarse whorl of Gabriel’s chest
hair, his eyes trained on his own long fingers as they twist and lightly tug.
“You weren’t kidding, huh?” Peter teases. Gabriel looks up at the sun and
squints, blinking away the drops of water clinging to his lashes. He feels a
desperate ache deep inside, a longing for that time when being face to face
with Peter was like looking in a mirror. But there’s something else there too,
something that he’s tried to bury; his skin feels too tight and burning hot
where Peter’s fingers lay.
From the corner of his eye, he can see Peter bite his crooked bottom lip.
“Looks good,” Peter whispers. The water laps against his stomach as Peter
pushes nearer, damp bangs falling forward to hide his eyes. And maybe it’s just
the sun that’s burnt his cheeks but Gabriel thinks that maybe Peter’s blushing
too.
“I wish I…” Peter trails off as Gabriel shakes his head; Gabriel thinks that
Peter’s perfect just the way he is.
And he’s using two hands now to feel out Gabriel’s changing body, stroking over
the breadth of his shoulders and measuring the span of his chest, tanned, olive
hands dark against Gabriel’s too-pale skin. His fingertips glance wetly over
Gabriel’s peaking nipples, his breathing getting louder when Gabriel softly
gasps. As Peter’s hand dips below the water, tracing along that line of hair
that runs down Gabriel’s belly, Gabriel tips his head back, water shaking out
from his hair to splatter on his sun-warm shoulders.
“There too?” Peter rasps, teasing at the thick, sodden hair not quite hidden by
his low slung trunks.
“Uh huh,” Gabriel stutters around a gulp.
“Pete…” he sighs as Peter’s fingers curl under his waistband. Peter’s treading
water now, floats closer and presses up against him. Gabriel lets out a
nervous, breathless chuckle; he feels delirious from the heat. Against his
thigh, Peter’s cock is as hard as his.
“Let me see.” Peter’s voice is raw. He tugs a little at Gabriel’s swim trunks,
Gabriel hissing at the cool rush of water against his overheated flesh. Peter’s
breath shudders hoarsely against his ear when Gabriel’s stubble catches on his
still smooth cheek. And when he finally meets Peter’s eyes, they’re dark, blown
wide and pleading.
“I just…” he mumbles. “I wanna know. I wanna see. We used to be the same.”
Gabriel makes a confused noise, low, low and deep in his throat because this
isn’t right but still he lets himself be guided back to sit high on the sloping
steps. Water surges down the straining fabric at his crotch as the tops of his
thighs breach the water’s surface. Gabriel grips the edge of the step he sits
on, the coarse anti-skid stuff there pressing painfully into his palm, and he
lifts his hips, letting Peter slide down his shorts with trembling hands.
And now he’s sitting with his trunks clinging wetly to his thighs, his cock
thick where it rises out of the pool, tilting back to rest heavily against his
stomach beneath his navel. Just below the surface, his balls seem buoyed by the
water.
The “Oh!” that Peter gives is strangled. He leans over Gabriel, hips rocking
subtly back and forth until the water rolls between them in lazy waves and
Gabriel has to moan because it feels so good to have the water lapping at his
cock.
Braced with one hand next to Gabriel’s on the step, Peter reaches out. Gabriel
holds his breath, bites back a whimper. He wants so badly his dick jumps in
anticipation; Peter’s whole body trembles. He swallows loudly and his hand
wavers, until he’s touching Gabriel between his legs just short of where
Gabriel most wants him to be. Peter’s fingertips stroke restlessly through
Gabriel’s pubes, roughs them up as the water lodged there trickles over Peter’s
nails and Gabriel’s cock throbs with the tease. He whines, long and desperate,
not sure at all that he can cope.
Gabriel wants to close his eyes because it’s almost too intense with their
ragged breath ringing in his ears but he wants to see what Peter’s seeing, to
know somehow that this is what he wants too. Peter’s bangs tickle his cheek
where their heads hang down together, eyes avidly watching the path Peter
traces around Gabriel’s groin. And when his hand slips lower, fingertips just
barely stroking Gabriel’s aching balls, a sudden shadow falls down over them as
the sun slides behind a cloud.
Peter’s hand snaps back and they shiver together in the unexpected cool,
gooseflesh breaking out over their dripping skin. Gabriel can’t shake the dark
twisting in his gut that hisses this nature’s way of showing her disapproval.
Now, it’s weirdly awkward and he doesn’t know how to make it right. Gabriel
snuffles and swallows down the lump that’s growing in his throat. He reaches
for his trunks, to pull them up and pretend like he does best. But his chest
hurts and his throat is raw as he sucks down breath he can’t quite catch;
Peter’s meant to be the one he never needs to pretend to.
Peter’s hands cover his and he lurches forward, bumping his nose on Gabriel’s
cheek when he presses their flushed foreheads together. Gabriel watches the
pink tip of Peter’s tongue drag across his lips, sweat beading on his upper lip
as he stalls for time.
“Gabriel,” he whispers thickly. “You should… you should take care of that
before you go inside.”
When Gabriel’s eyes flutter shut, a throaty groan ripped from him, he’s close
enough to Peter for his lashes to brush his skin. He feels Peter quake against
him, push Gabriel’s hand towards his dick and Gabriel doesn’t have the self-
control to say that this is wrong. He tells himself that brothers do this
together all the time and ignores the way his skin crawls when he thinks of
touching himself for Nathan. He grasps himself like Peter wants, fist
squeaking, nearly painful, up his length; there’s only pool water to ease the
way. Gabriel watches as Peter’s nostrils flare and even with the chlorine
that’s heavy in the air, Gabriel can taste Peter’s musk too, thick and bitter
on his tongue.
He wants to ask what Peter likes, to find out what he wants to see and if he’ll
touch too but he doesn’t want to shatter whatever this delicate thing is
between them. He brings his hand to his mouth and shyly spits into his palm.
And maybe he doesn’t need to ask, because Peter’s panting against his temple,
his own hips jerking back and forth as Gabriel strokes his cock. Gabriel’s
fingers circle tighter and he fists himself in time to Peter’s whimpers,
jerking himself just like he does when the only Peter there is the one he sees
behind his closed eyes.
“Yeah,” Peter moans as Gabriel’s thumb skates over his tip; “Yeah,” when he
sees the pre-come that’s welling in his slit.
Gabriel turns his face to nuzzle against Peter’s hair; Peter groans, his open
mouth pressed wetly to Gabriel’s cheekbone. It’s near enough to a kiss to make
Gabriel come.
And when his cock stops pulsing his hand, his body still shaking against
Peter’s, he opens his eyes with a breathless laugh and has to squint against
the too-bright, too-hot sun that’s glaring down on them once more. Peter’s got
a hand between his own legs, pressing fitfully up against his crotch and
Gabriel holds him by the hip to keep him steady. When he comes, Gabriel thinks
he hears Peter gasp his name.
Groaning, Peter tucks his hair behind his ears. Suddenly self-conscious again,
Gabriel tugs up his shorts to cover his softening cock, smiling when he feels
the imprint of the tiles on his ass. He chuckles to see his semen shimmering on
the water’s surface, streaks of opaque white splattered near his lap.
“Ew,” he says lightly, swiping his sticky palm through the mess, shaking his
hand under the water until it’s washed away. Peter half-laughs too, pulling the
waistband of his own trunks out, sheepishly scooping the cool water between his
legs to rinse himself clean.
Peter sits heavily on the step beside him. Gabriel turns his face up to the
sun, his cheeks throbbing from his goofy grin that hasn’t faded. His body feels
heavy now and he wants to sleep. Maybe Peter feels the same way too because he
lays his head on Gabriel’s shoulder and curls a hand around his bicep. When
Gabriel kisses the top of his head, Peter breathes out this shuddering sigh and
presses desperately nearer. His nails catch lightly on Gabriel’s skin but when
Gabriel tries to cup his face and turn his chin towards him, Peter shrugs him
off and refuses to meet his eyes.
“Hey,” Gabriel says, heart pounding fearfully in his chest. “Hey, s’okay.”
Peter burrows his face in the crook of Gabriel’s neck; Gabriel bites his bottom
lip to stop himself from wailing. Then Peter groans, looks up at him with a sad
expression that Gabriel doesn’t understand. He gently squeezes Gabriel’s thigh.
The smile he gives is weak and faltering. “Yeah, s’okay,” Peter lies.
Peter leans into him, kisses him softly on the cheek, but when Gabriel grasps
for him, Peter’s already diving back into the pool, his lithe body twisting out
of reach.
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