Chapter Text
The sky's only just beginning to darken when they finally arrive at James’ house. It’s nestled comfortably in the woods; not too secluded, but not too open. Bare-bottomed pine trees surround the property and block out most of the sky, leaving only a blue cap floating directly over the house. From the slumped down position in his seat Peter takes in the basic exterior of the building with its two upstairs windows, small porch, and single car garage. James’ parks the vehicle in front of said garage and kills the engine. The car's dead for only a few seconds before Peter makes for the door handle.
Compared to the inside of the car the air outside is tepid and moist against the skin. As Peter takes in the change James remains in the car to slowly, yet methodically collect his belongings. Peter stands over the passenger side door, eyes trained to the roof. What’s taking him so long to get out? He waits with a feeling borderlining impatience as James finally starts to shimmy himself out of the driver’s side. Within another minute James has what he needs from the car and locks it up. At the age of only 21 Peter wouldn’t have guessed his brother to have the benign habits of a 40 year old.
He used to have so much energy back when we were little. He could play with me for hours and hours before needing a break.
Peter tries to chase these thoughts away,telling himself it’s not fair to expect his brother to measure up to an idealized version of himself from Peter’s own making. I practically worshiped my brother back then. Of course I saw him as unstoppable with limitless stamina. Nonetheless Peter finds himself getting lost in thought.
Creeping his way towards the porch James remains completely unaware of his brother's inner musings. It isn’t until he’s on the steps and turns behind to speak to Peter that he realizes he hasn’t been followed. Looking back to the car James finds his brother still in the same spot facing the door. In this position he can get a clear look at the boy's face and read it perfectly. He’s obviously lost in thought, brows knitted together tightly. The worrying at his bottom lip and sightless stare indicate vivid images or internal conversations are taking up his brain’s attention.
Had his brother always been so turned inwards?
The kid James remembers was much the opposite. He could never hold a thought to himself and always put his feelings on display for the world to see. Whether it be sadness, joy, anger, or discomfort, Peter would always let others know, let James know. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe after James left people stopped letting Peter speak so freely. He was the new heir to a global empire afterall, it wouldn’t be good business for Peter and his emotions to run wild. To mold him for the business world they’d have to stomp that out.
James can feel an old hatred begin to awaken again within him at the thought. One that’s been sleeping since the day his father deemed him unfit to inherit the family business and cut him off from everyone. Even though it’s tempting to let it wake fully, James knows that won’t fix anything and wills it back down to that deep part of his chest where it rests. The object of his anger is already dead anyways.
Turning back James starts to make his way towards Peter who becomes aware of his surroundings as soon as he hears James approaching. Smiling as though he saw nothing, James waves him over and says, “Are you coming?”. Peter gives out a responsive chuckle, trying to act natural and hoping that James doesn’t see right through him.
James does but knows better than to show it. His brother is the type of boy to respond to prying by strengthening his emotional fortress. He'll have to address Peter's behavior on a later date.
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Peter has to admit, the inside of James’ home is more than inviting. The warm light mixed with the rustic aesthetic is a sight that's easy on the eyes; in a way it reminds him of James. To Peter it's a mental shock to be surrounded by stuff that exudes his brother’s energy when he's spent almost half his life deprived of anything that conjured up James' memory for their family. Even with all this warmness around him Peter still finds himself a little on edge. Because for all it’s coziness this home is still nothing more than a box keepin g you locked in with the brother that you swore to your family you’d never love or look up to again. The nervous energy kicks up a notch.
Peter thinks that he has no business feeling like a prisoner right now, sitting here in the living room with James.
Perched on the edge of an old floral armchair Peter’s eyes trace over the lines of the hardwood floor. His thumb rubs the cold side of the glass cup full of juice that James gave to him. From the well worn auburn couch James’ own eyes are watching the movement of the digit across the glass. They sit there for a while, both observing the other through their own means. James fixating on his brother's fidgets and Peter watching and listening for his movements.
The comfortably awkward silence between them gets to Peter first. Setting his glass down on the floor Peter goes to open his mouth before losing the words he thought he had. Without skipping a beat James picks up for him, “So, what have you been up to Pete?”.
He says it with a smile but Peter finds himself tense. He struggles to gather the appropriate words to respond with but manages to choke something up, “Just, school and stuff. And sometimes I attended meetings with Dad. But that’s...that's it…” he leans down stiffly to grasp his glass. James gives a light smile. “Do you have any hobbies, or things you do for yourself?”.
The glass stops before it reaches Peter’s lips, giving James’ a view of the way they give a curve downwards before opening for a curt answer, “No, I’m too busy with school.”
That saddens James more than one would think and it must show on his face the way Peter’s eyes widen before they return to the floor. The silence is back. James looks away as well this time, no longer reading his brother for clues. Now all he wants to do is hide his face because he’s sure it looks a lot sadder than before.
Peter quickly finishes the rest of his drink and gets to his feet. He stands in place for a minute, darting a glance to James for input on how to proceed. Not finding his brother's eyes he clears his throat. In seconds James' head snaps in place so that they can finally lock eyes.
There's an entire conversation to be had between their sets of eyes but neither brother uses their voice to capitalize on it. Once again Peter breaks the silence, "I'll be heading to bed now."
James gives a small nod of the head, "Of course. Let me show you where you'll be sleeping." The fabric gives a small noise of protest as James lifts himself off the couch. He briskly walks past Peter and up the stairs to the second floor. Peter follows wordlessly.
On the second floor he takes a right and stops at the only door on that side. Finally looking up to see his brother's face James wears a small, warm smile, "Here it is. I hope it's to your liking." He gets a nod in return.
Just as he walks past Peter to return downstairs he feels a tiny grip on his sleeve. Looking down he sees that Peter has stopped him. His eyes travel upwards to meet Peter's gaze but finds him looking away. James' ears barely catch the bashful "Goodnight" that comes from Peter.
Another smile forms on his face, this time bigger and brighter. "Goodnight, Peter." With that the grip on him loosens and they separate. James heads down stairs for some before-bed cleaning, smile still on his face.