Heroes, "Truth or Treat" Peter/Claire
Nov. 1st, 2008 02:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
quirkysmuseFandom: Heroes
Title: Truth or Treat
Character/Pairings: Claire/Peter
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,577
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes; the property belongs to NBC, Tim Kring, and all respective parties.
Spoilers: up to Season 3x07, some future spoilers
Notes: Written specifically in celebration for Halloween, my absolute favorite holiday ever. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
frellingblonde for the look over.
Summary: At the dreaded Petrelli Halloween bash, Claire and Peter share confessions and start to cross some lines.
Claire thought; if there was one family on the entire planet that should not hold a Halloween party, it was the Petrellis. Of course, the Petrellis were known for having a slew of bad family problems, from megalomaniac patriarchs and equally divisive megalomaniac matriarchs, to cheating senators and adopted serial killers. After all that Claire learned about the Petrellis, she wondered if she’d inherit their questionable qualities.
The only saving grace was Peter, who had his flaws, but for someone who was a literal sponge of other people’s emotions, he was somewhat normal despite the company he kept.
Claire plopped down next to Peter in a fine satin chair at the most god-awful, stuffy Halloween party ever. Sure, she was glad her once-dead grandpa, now Haitian-ized, was no longer evil and trying to steal everyone’s powers. She was glad he and Angela decided to do things normally that feuding married couples do – get a divorce, and you know, without endangering the entire world in the process.
However, the night was still young. Anything could happen – especially with this family.
“You look nice,” Peter said next to her, shaking her from her thoughts. She was so distracted by her gloomy Petrelli musings; she almost forgot she was dressed for the occasion. She looked down at her Super girl costume and her blonde hair fanning over her shoulders. Her gaze shifted as she met Peter’s face, and she gave him a reluctant smile.
“Thanks,” she answered, looking at his costume in turn. “You too.” Well, he looked a little better than nice, but she wasn’t going to say that. She couldn’t; it would probably cross a line. But Peter really did look good as a pirate, with an open-chest vest and the eye-patch that accentuated the new scar over his cheek. The costume seemed to fit him, considering as long as Claire had known Peter, he had a strange aversion to wearing shirts. And she wasn’t going to even think about the pants: black, velour and just a couple sizes too snug.
“Dammit,” she said out loud, and Peter frowned.
“What is it?” he asked concerned. She sighed and shook her head.
“I’m just waiting for that moment when all hell breaks loose,” she said, finding a good excuse to shift from her actual thoughts.
Peter followed her gaze over to the center of the room full of costumed people. Even Angela had made a cordial appearance to the party, and she and Arthur smiled and engaged in polite conversation. She wasn’t even sure what their costumes were; something old fashioned and French. Nathan, dressed as a magician, was entranced by Tracy in her semi-revealing bunny suit. Others with powers like them who they met through the Pinehearst-Primatech showdown were littered throughout the ballroom. Even Sylar, now being called Gabriel, seemed lulled with complacency as he laughed with Elle on the other side of the room, dressed as Gomez and Morticia.
“Why do you say that? Everything seems fine,” Peter said, grabbing his drink from the side table by the couch. “It’s kind of boring actually.”
Claire snorted. “Nothing is ever fine with this family and you know it.”
“Now Claire,” Peter chided. Claire elbowed him to cut him off.
“Don’t start that… that uncle stuff. Please,” she groaned.
“But I am…”
“Whatever,” she said, and started to get up. The music changed to a light, slow melody, and couples began holding each other closely and swaying on the dance floor. Peter grabbed her forearm.
“Come on,” he said, saying nothing else and then leading her out to the center. Claire could feel her insides suddenly tense from Peter’s warm touch on her skin, as well as both her fathers’ eyes on them as they joined the party. She caught her grandmother’s peaceful smile in the corner of her eye, and her stomach did a back flip.
“Strange,” she mumbled, and she was grateful Peter didn’t hear her. Instead, he started humming, and he pulled her close to his body and positioned her in a traditional waltz.
“I didn’t know you could dance,” she said breathlessly, and his hand dipped to the small of her back.
“It’s mandatory for any Petrelli,” he said with amusement. “You know, society and all.”
“Huh,” Claire said agreeably, reveling in the semblance their bodies created as they moved around the dance floor. Peter felt warm and inviting, like a place she could go to escape the darkness and never feel lonely again. He always did that to her, and sometimes she was too scared to get so close. His cheek rubbed against hers for a moment, and Claire never felt more scared and anxious in her life.
“Peter, when this dance is over, I have something serious to say to you,” she said. She didn’t plan on saying it, but since he saved her from the train, since he held her and she in turn nursed his wounds, she’s been feeling those strange feelings again that she had when he first rescued her. It frightened her that she was some kind of sick freak. So, maybe if she told him, he’d get angry with her and reject her, giving them some space so her feelings could die away.
But for now, he was entirely too close.
“Okay,” he said, a little too nonchalantly. Then, he became chattier. “So, I was wondering, why the Super girl costume?” She pulled back as they still danced, and she saw his wry smile. “I thought of you more as a nurse or a cat.”
“What, like something normal?” she teased with a slight tone of offense. His smile only became brighter, making her knees weak. She leaned closer to him, and he didn’t pull back. She swallowed hard and wondered how he could handle being so close to her and not feel the way she did. Maybe this was his weird personal Petrelli tick – dancing and being too close with his own niece.
“No, not like that. I just didn’t see you dressing up as something you already were,” he said brightly.
She looked at him stunned at first, and then she couldn’t hold back the smile. He seemed pleased by the reaction. “That wasn’t my intention. Besides, only you think that of me.” She sent a glare in Noah’s direction. “If only my dad saw me the way you do.”
Peter pulled her closer with a chuckle. “Trust me; I’m not sure you want that.”
Claire smile faded, and she was even more perplexed. She tried not to appear bothered, so she continued. “And what about you? A pirate? Were they out of ninja costumes?”
“What are you saying?” he said with mock offense. “What’s wrong with this?”
“Well, it’s just that you wear a lot of black,” Claire joked. Peter laughed a little too loudly, and Claire threw a nervous smile to everyone as they became the center of attention again.
Thankfully, the music ended and they were saved. Claire immediately grabbed Peter’s arm and pulled him away to a discreet location in the empty study room down the hall. She shut the door and sighed in relief.
“Okay, what’s so important we had to leave the party?” Peter asked, taking off his eye patch and giving her his full attention. He seemed a little annoyed, but still appeared to be in good spirits.
“It was getting weird,” she said plainly. His smile disappeared when he could sense her unease.
“Claire, what’s wrong?”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “Peter, there’s something wrong with me, and I’m not talking about the stupid pain thing.”
His brow furrowed. Claire bit her lip; if only he knew the direction this conversation was going.
“Okay, I should probably start from the beginning. You remember the time when you saved me, and I met you in the jail cell, and I told you that you were my hero?”
He gave a slow nod.
She twiddled her fingers and looked awkwardly around the room. After a deep exhale, she finally said, “I had thoughts about you afterward that were very un-niece like.” After another deep breath, she braved looking into his eyes.
She never expected Peter’s thoughtful expression. Claire was sure he’d be freaked out; instead, he appeared as though he had something to confess to her as well.
“So you see, when you took me out to the dance floor, it just got a little weird for me. Now I perfectly understand if you think I’m a freak and need some help; believe me, I’m trying to deal with this,” Claire rambled, but Peter still stared at her and wrestled with his own thoughts.
When she expected him to scorn her, he didn’t. “It’s okay,” he said soothingly, and his voice faltered a little. “I know exactly how you feel.” His intense dark eyes stared at her, and she felt paralyzed by them. In his expression, she could see the clear meaning of his words.
“Oh,” she replied quickly. Her eyes went wide, “Oh! You too?” Peter looked away and scratched his head awkwardly.
“Not so much then. I mean, I thought you were a sweet girl and very pretty. I also wished that there was a cheerleader like you when I was in school.” He paused with a queasy smile. “The cheerleaders in my school were not so nice.”
“But… what about now?” she braved the question. The muscles in his jaw clenched.
“It’s worse now. I feel like I’m always pushing you too far,” he explained.
Claire shook her head. “No, no, I mean, yeah I was wondering about that, but I felt bad for not stopping you.” She met his intense eyes again and softly said, “I … didn’t want to stop you.”
“Okay, so…” Peter blew a breath out, and he paced around the room.
“Yeah, um, what do we do now?” Claire asked, watching him as he walked. He was trying to be interested in the books in the study. She knew well that his mind was not on books, and things were getting way more awkward.
“Hrmm, well probably nothing,” Peter said absently, trying to avoid her gaze.
“Nothing…” Claire nodded dully. “Wait…nothing? We can’t just do nothing, Peter! What if it gets worse?”
“Worse?” He still wouldn’t look at her. He stopped pacing and stared at the books. Claire crossed her arms over her chest.
“We can’t just ignore it. Read my emotions or my mind, I don’t care, and see how it can get worse,” she challenged.
He turned around slowly and finally he looked at her. He stood silent for a moment, and she watched his brow furrow as he looked into her mind. He shut his eyes tightly and took a few deep breaths. When he opened his eyes, he appeared calm yet worried.
“Well, that was… not what I expected,” he said.
“That’s only the stuff on the surface. Peter, what am I going to do? I already feel like a freak!” she said and stopped herself before the hysteria set in.
Peter looked at her sympathetically. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said, coming near her. She felt his hands rub her shoulders. “We’ll figure something out.” His voice was soft and comforting, and as always, it stirred her to fall into his serene embrace.
She wished she could stay here forever, but she knew better.
“Peter,” she cried in a whisper, and she closed her eyes and felt him moving them to sit down at the sofa near the fireplace. She could hear his heartbeat, tuning out the voices heard down the hall.
“Super girl isn’t supposed to cry. She’s supposed to save people,” he said, rubbing circles on her back.
“It’s just a costume,” she said. “I can’t save anyone.”
“I don’t believe it. I don’t know anyone else that would pull glass out of my head, or give me the power to heal when I was pushed off building after building. Or even nurse my wounds when I had no powers at all,” he whispered, his voice edging with nostalgia. His fingers were in her hair now, and when she felt the steady motion of his hand on her scalp down to the ends of her hair, she buried herself deeper within his embrace. She pushed the vest open with her hands and leaned her face into his bare chest. His smell of aftershave and musk filled her senses, and if he tried to pull her away right now, she knew that she’d resist.
“I don’t want to be your hero, Peter. That’s how you are for me,” she said, feeling her lips brush against his chest as she spoke. She could feel his muscles tense against her and his heart began to beat faster.
“Claire,” he said, and he sounded strained, struggling to hold back. She felt his lips against her forehead, and she knew he was breaking too. They were alone, in each other’s arms, in a room that seemed so far away from the chaos and family just down the hall.
She pulled away from him slightly, desperate to read the expression now on his face. His mouth opened to say something, but his eyes said enough.
She glowered. “This is wrong.” But she wasn’t talking to him; she was pleading with herself, yet she couldn’t stop her own instincts. She leaned in and planted her lips on his lightly, first so chaste and then pushing into his warm readied mouth.
Claire had waited too long for this – something she never thought would happen. She moved her body and straddled him, wrapping her arms around him. Desperately, she pulled back from his kiss and said sadly, “I’m so sorry, Peter,” and then she kissed him again, more brutal and urgent than before.
Peter moaned, tightening his grip around her hips, pulling at the thin material of her costume. She felt him arch his body and rub against her. He sighed in her mouth, pulling away and trailing hard kisses from her chin to her neck. She leaned back, and he rested his face at the seam of her shirt in the dip between her breasts. She closed her eyes and felt his hands roam over her clothes before finding the zipper in the back. The material slacked, and she shivered as he pulled it over and down her waist. She broke away to stand in front of him, and as she met his eyes, she slowly peeled off the layers as he watched her every motion. When she was completely naked, he stood up and took her hands, beckoning her to do the same to him.
She watched his eyes flutter closed as she pulled off the vest, his accessories, and then tucked her fingers at the elastic of his pants. He moved, shifting on either leg as he slid the cheap boots off. His hands dove into his pants and rested over hers as she began pulling them down over his hips. She froze as she stared at the last piece of his clothes, his green silk boxers, which despite their loose design, did not cover his excitement.
She took a deep breath and lifted her hands up to his chest. She leaned in and looked him into the eyes. “You do it,” she said just above a whisper. She counted two beats of her own heart before hearing the material pool to his feet. Gently, he cupped her elbows and led her back down onto the sofa. She straddled him again, and she felt his hardness rubbing against her heated flesh.
“My Claire,” he said, pulling her into another heady kiss. She felt his hands under her thighs to lift her for a moment. She tensed as she felt him slide inside her, something so new yet so perfect. Then, he moved, slowly but pushing within her with just enough force. She ground her hips into him, delighting in the rise and fall of each wave that crashed over her senses.
“Yes,” she exclaimed, feeling more and more of him with each thrust. He leaned his face over her chest and rest between her breasts. He kissed her, leaving a wet trail to each pert nipple and then nipping at them with his teeth.
She gasped as he pistoned within her faster, and she whimpered from the sensations as his teeth pulled harder at her sensitive skin. His hands encircled her waist, and he pulled her up, pushing her down on him when she couldn’t keep up. He grunted against her, and soon his sounds were drowned out when she could only feel him, ramming and branding himself within her, reaching so deep she’d lost all sense.
In all this grinding and clenching, she suddenly realized how beautiful he was, so hot and good, and that there was some woman out there who wasn’t related to him that would be missing out, but Peter was hers right now. He was hers, and she hoped that despite everything, she could keep him.
She felt him tense inside her; his body stilled as he let out one last ragged gasp. “I love you,” he said, followed by a long, desperate kiss. And then she felt it; her body shuddered and she felt hot and tepid, cool and spicy, all in one screaming pulse. She gripped his shoulders and cried, never wanting to let go.
Claire’s eyes opened, and she found his face, damp with sweat and painted with a contagious smile. Her body lulled into comfortable warmth, and she leaned in and rewarded him with a soft kiss.
“You took that from my brain, you thief,” she said playfully.
“It’s what you wanted,” he mused aloud, catching his breath between their kisses. “I never knew your mind was so dirty.”
“I told you that it was only what I wanted you to see,” she said, her arms falling on his shoulders. She ran her fingers through his hair and was glad he was growing it out again.
“I know,” he said lazily, pulling her close and smashing her breasts against his hard chest. He acted playful with a thoughtful expression. “I saw those too. We’ll have plenty of time to get to those later.”
“You mean…?” Her fears began to wash away. He nodded, and she felt a thrill surge through her. He leaned in and nuzzled his forehead against hers.
“I told you I love you. I mean it. I felt it when I met you, and despite everything, I still feel it.” His voice sounded serious. “With all that’s happened to us – in this family, do you think it’s really a bad thing in comparison?”
Claire shook her head, but she realized that she and Peter were really Petrellis after all. This was their malfunction, and as long as it didn’t hurt anyone, why would anyone deny them the chance to love? Especially since love was so lacking among the Petrellis in general.
“No, I don’t think it’s bad, Peter, but I will request one thing,” she said sheepishly.
Peter looked at her curiously, and Claire saw a slight flicker of worry. “I don’t want to tell anyone about it. I mean, my father still thinks I need to live in a plastic bubble, and Nathan…” She paused as she read his face. They were both thinking the worst.
“Yeah, you’re definitely right,” he said agreeably. He smiled at her and wrapped his arms around her and led her on her back against the sofa. He hovered over her and pushed a strand of hair behind her ears. Claire stared at him, never feeling so loved as she did with Peter right now.
“So, should we go back to the party?” Claire asked, as Peter leaned down and suckled at her neck.
He murmured ‘no’ against her skin, and when, she felt his lips on her earlobe, her body automatically arched to him.
“Oh!” she cried, and Peter came up with a big grin.
“You’re the one who pulled me into this room because you weren’t happy at the party.” He nuzzled his face against her neck, and his breath tickled her when he said, “I think we should stay right here.”
Claire giggled. “Okay, you win. Twist my arm already.” She closed her eyes as Peter’s fingers roamed her body again. “Still, I had my eyes on that first prize for the Halloween contest.”
“It’s rigged anyway,” Peter said with a laugh. “I pulled a thought out of Mom’s head. Sylar’s going to win it this year.”
“Aw, someone’s playing favorites again. I told you his costume should have been Mama’s Boy with a big umbilical cord attached to his shirt,” Claire cracked, and Peter let out a loud laugh.
“Enough about that,” he said, grinding his body into hers. He seemed pleased when she let out a moan. “You’re going to kill the mood.”
“I’m sorry,” she said innocently, rolling her eyes. Her expression softened, and she met his gaze. “Happy Halloween, Peter, and I love you too.”
Peter grinned, and Claire felt him slide inside her again, taut and ready. He pulled her into another breath stealing kiss and said, “Happy Halloween, Claire.”
This time, he moved slower and softer, and when he filled her again, she knew that Peter was the better prize in any contest.
END
Title: Truth or Treat
Character/Pairings: Claire/Peter
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,577
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes; the property belongs to NBC, Tim Kring, and all respective parties.
Spoilers: up to Season 3x07, some future spoilers
Notes: Written specifically in celebration for Halloween, my absolute favorite holiday ever. Thanks to
frellingblonde for the look over.Summary: At the dreaded Petrelli Halloween bash, Claire and Peter share confessions and start to cross some lines.
Claire thought; if there was one family on the entire planet that should not hold a Halloween party, it was the Petrellis. Of course, the Petrellis were known for having a slew of bad family problems, from megalomaniac patriarchs and equally divisive megalomaniac matriarchs, to cheating senators and adopted serial killers. After all that Claire learned about the Petrellis, she wondered if she’d inherit their questionable qualities.
The only saving grace was Peter, who had his flaws, but for someone who was a literal sponge of other people’s emotions, he was somewhat normal despite the company he kept.
Claire plopped down next to Peter in a fine satin chair at the most god-awful, stuffy Halloween party ever. Sure, she was glad her once-dead grandpa, now Haitian-ized, was no longer evil and trying to steal everyone’s powers. She was glad he and Angela decided to do things normally that feuding married couples do – get a divorce, and you know, without endangering the entire world in the process.
However, the night was still young. Anything could happen – especially with this family.
“You look nice,” Peter said next to her, shaking her from her thoughts. She was so distracted by her gloomy Petrelli musings; she almost forgot she was dressed for the occasion. She looked down at her Super girl costume and her blonde hair fanning over her shoulders. Her gaze shifted as she met Peter’s face, and she gave him a reluctant smile.
“Thanks,” she answered, looking at his costume in turn. “You too.” Well, he looked a little better than nice, but she wasn’t going to say that. She couldn’t; it would probably cross a line. But Peter really did look good as a pirate, with an open-chest vest and the eye-patch that accentuated the new scar over his cheek. The costume seemed to fit him, considering as long as Claire had known Peter, he had a strange aversion to wearing shirts. And she wasn’t going to even think about the pants: black, velour and just a couple sizes too snug.
“Dammit,” she said out loud, and Peter frowned.
“What is it?” he asked concerned. She sighed and shook her head.
“I’m just waiting for that moment when all hell breaks loose,” she said, finding a good excuse to shift from her actual thoughts.
Peter followed her gaze over to the center of the room full of costumed people. Even Angela had made a cordial appearance to the party, and she and Arthur smiled and engaged in polite conversation. She wasn’t even sure what their costumes were; something old fashioned and French. Nathan, dressed as a magician, was entranced by Tracy in her semi-revealing bunny suit. Others with powers like them who they met through the Pinehearst-Primatech showdown were littered throughout the ballroom. Even Sylar, now being called Gabriel, seemed lulled with complacency as he laughed with Elle on the other side of the room, dressed as Gomez and Morticia.
“Why do you say that? Everything seems fine,” Peter said, grabbing his drink from the side table by the couch. “It’s kind of boring actually.”
Claire snorted. “Nothing is ever fine with this family and you know it.”
“Now Claire,” Peter chided. Claire elbowed him to cut him off.
“Don’t start that… that uncle stuff. Please,” she groaned.
“But I am…”
“Whatever,” she said, and started to get up. The music changed to a light, slow melody, and couples began holding each other closely and swaying on the dance floor. Peter grabbed her forearm.
“Come on,” he said, saying nothing else and then leading her out to the center. Claire could feel her insides suddenly tense from Peter’s warm touch on her skin, as well as both her fathers’ eyes on them as they joined the party. She caught her grandmother’s peaceful smile in the corner of her eye, and her stomach did a back flip.
“Strange,” she mumbled, and she was grateful Peter didn’t hear her. Instead, he started humming, and he pulled her close to his body and positioned her in a traditional waltz.
“I didn’t know you could dance,” she said breathlessly, and his hand dipped to the small of her back.
“It’s mandatory for any Petrelli,” he said with amusement. “You know, society and all.”
“Huh,” Claire said agreeably, reveling in the semblance their bodies created as they moved around the dance floor. Peter felt warm and inviting, like a place she could go to escape the darkness and never feel lonely again. He always did that to her, and sometimes she was too scared to get so close. His cheek rubbed against hers for a moment, and Claire never felt more scared and anxious in her life.
“Peter, when this dance is over, I have something serious to say to you,” she said. She didn’t plan on saying it, but since he saved her from the train, since he held her and she in turn nursed his wounds, she’s been feeling those strange feelings again that she had when he first rescued her. It frightened her that she was some kind of sick freak. So, maybe if she told him, he’d get angry with her and reject her, giving them some space so her feelings could die away.
But for now, he was entirely too close.
“Okay,” he said, a little too nonchalantly. Then, he became chattier. “So, I was wondering, why the Super girl costume?” She pulled back as they still danced, and she saw his wry smile. “I thought of you more as a nurse or a cat.”
“What, like something normal?” she teased with a slight tone of offense. His smile only became brighter, making her knees weak. She leaned closer to him, and he didn’t pull back. She swallowed hard and wondered how he could handle being so close to her and not feel the way she did. Maybe this was his weird personal Petrelli tick – dancing and being too close with his own niece.
“No, not like that. I just didn’t see you dressing up as something you already were,” he said brightly.
She looked at him stunned at first, and then she couldn’t hold back the smile. He seemed pleased by the reaction. “That wasn’t my intention. Besides, only you think that of me.” She sent a glare in Noah’s direction. “If only my dad saw me the way you do.”
Peter pulled her closer with a chuckle. “Trust me; I’m not sure you want that.”
Claire smile faded, and she was even more perplexed. She tried not to appear bothered, so she continued. “And what about you? A pirate? Were they out of ninja costumes?”
“What are you saying?” he said with mock offense. “What’s wrong with this?”
“Well, it’s just that you wear a lot of black,” Claire joked. Peter laughed a little too loudly, and Claire threw a nervous smile to everyone as they became the center of attention again.
Thankfully, the music ended and they were saved. Claire immediately grabbed Peter’s arm and pulled him away to a discreet location in the empty study room down the hall. She shut the door and sighed in relief.
“Okay, what’s so important we had to leave the party?” Peter asked, taking off his eye patch and giving her his full attention. He seemed a little annoyed, but still appeared to be in good spirits.
“It was getting weird,” she said plainly. His smile disappeared when he could sense her unease.
“Claire, what’s wrong?”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “Peter, there’s something wrong with me, and I’m not talking about the stupid pain thing.”
His brow furrowed. Claire bit her lip; if only he knew the direction this conversation was going.
“Okay, I should probably start from the beginning. You remember the time when you saved me, and I met you in the jail cell, and I told you that you were my hero?”
He gave a slow nod.
She twiddled her fingers and looked awkwardly around the room. After a deep exhale, she finally said, “I had thoughts about you afterward that were very un-niece like.” After another deep breath, she braved looking into his eyes.
She never expected Peter’s thoughtful expression. Claire was sure he’d be freaked out; instead, he appeared as though he had something to confess to her as well.
“So you see, when you took me out to the dance floor, it just got a little weird for me. Now I perfectly understand if you think I’m a freak and need some help; believe me, I’m trying to deal with this,” Claire rambled, but Peter still stared at her and wrestled with his own thoughts.
When she expected him to scorn her, he didn’t. “It’s okay,” he said soothingly, and his voice faltered a little. “I know exactly how you feel.” His intense dark eyes stared at her, and she felt paralyzed by them. In his expression, she could see the clear meaning of his words.
“Oh,” she replied quickly. Her eyes went wide, “Oh! You too?” Peter looked away and scratched his head awkwardly.
“Not so much then. I mean, I thought you were a sweet girl and very pretty. I also wished that there was a cheerleader like you when I was in school.” He paused with a queasy smile. “The cheerleaders in my school were not so nice.”
“But… what about now?” she braved the question. The muscles in his jaw clenched.
“It’s worse now. I feel like I’m always pushing you too far,” he explained.
Claire shook her head. “No, no, I mean, yeah I was wondering about that, but I felt bad for not stopping you.” She met his intense eyes again and softly said, “I … didn’t want to stop you.”
“Okay, so…” Peter blew a breath out, and he paced around the room.
“Yeah, um, what do we do now?” Claire asked, watching him as he walked. He was trying to be interested in the books in the study. She knew well that his mind was not on books, and things were getting way more awkward.
“Hrmm, well probably nothing,” Peter said absently, trying to avoid her gaze.
“Nothing…” Claire nodded dully. “Wait…nothing? We can’t just do nothing, Peter! What if it gets worse?”
“Worse?” He still wouldn’t look at her. He stopped pacing and stared at the books. Claire crossed her arms over her chest.
“We can’t just ignore it. Read my emotions or my mind, I don’t care, and see how it can get worse,” she challenged.
He turned around slowly and finally he looked at her. He stood silent for a moment, and she watched his brow furrow as he looked into her mind. He shut his eyes tightly and took a few deep breaths. When he opened his eyes, he appeared calm yet worried.
“Well, that was… not what I expected,” he said.
“That’s only the stuff on the surface. Peter, what am I going to do? I already feel like a freak!” she said and stopped herself before the hysteria set in.
Peter looked at her sympathetically. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said, coming near her. She felt his hands rub her shoulders. “We’ll figure something out.” His voice was soft and comforting, and as always, it stirred her to fall into his serene embrace.
She wished she could stay here forever, but she knew better.
“Peter,” she cried in a whisper, and she closed her eyes and felt him moving them to sit down at the sofa near the fireplace. She could hear his heartbeat, tuning out the voices heard down the hall.
“Super girl isn’t supposed to cry. She’s supposed to save people,” he said, rubbing circles on her back.
“It’s just a costume,” she said. “I can’t save anyone.”
“I don’t believe it. I don’t know anyone else that would pull glass out of my head, or give me the power to heal when I was pushed off building after building. Or even nurse my wounds when I had no powers at all,” he whispered, his voice edging with nostalgia. His fingers were in her hair now, and when she felt the steady motion of his hand on her scalp down to the ends of her hair, she buried herself deeper within his embrace. She pushed the vest open with her hands and leaned her face into his bare chest. His smell of aftershave and musk filled her senses, and if he tried to pull her away right now, she knew that she’d resist.
“I don’t want to be your hero, Peter. That’s how you are for me,” she said, feeling her lips brush against his chest as she spoke. She could feel his muscles tense against her and his heart began to beat faster.
“Claire,” he said, and he sounded strained, struggling to hold back. She felt his lips against her forehead, and she knew he was breaking too. They were alone, in each other’s arms, in a room that seemed so far away from the chaos and family just down the hall.
She pulled away from him slightly, desperate to read the expression now on his face. His mouth opened to say something, but his eyes said enough.
She glowered. “This is wrong.” But she wasn’t talking to him; she was pleading with herself, yet she couldn’t stop her own instincts. She leaned in and planted her lips on his lightly, first so chaste and then pushing into his warm readied mouth.
Claire had waited too long for this – something she never thought would happen. She moved her body and straddled him, wrapping her arms around him. Desperately, she pulled back from his kiss and said sadly, “I’m so sorry, Peter,” and then she kissed him again, more brutal and urgent than before.
Peter moaned, tightening his grip around her hips, pulling at the thin material of her costume. She felt him arch his body and rub against her. He sighed in her mouth, pulling away and trailing hard kisses from her chin to her neck. She leaned back, and he rested his face at the seam of her shirt in the dip between her breasts. She closed her eyes and felt his hands roam over her clothes before finding the zipper in the back. The material slacked, and she shivered as he pulled it over and down her waist. She broke away to stand in front of him, and as she met his eyes, she slowly peeled off the layers as he watched her every motion. When she was completely naked, he stood up and took her hands, beckoning her to do the same to him.
She watched his eyes flutter closed as she pulled off the vest, his accessories, and then tucked her fingers at the elastic of his pants. He moved, shifting on either leg as he slid the cheap boots off. His hands dove into his pants and rested over hers as she began pulling them down over his hips. She froze as she stared at the last piece of his clothes, his green silk boxers, which despite their loose design, did not cover his excitement.
She took a deep breath and lifted her hands up to his chest. She leaned in and looked him into the eyes. “You do it,” she said just above a whisper. She counted two beats of her own heart before hearing the material pool to his feet. Gently, he cupped her elbows and led her back down onto the sofa. She straddled him again, and she felt his hardness rubbing against her heated flesh.
“My Claire,” he said, pulling her into another heady kiss. She felt his hands under her thighs to lift her for a moment. She tensed as she felt him slide inside her, something so new yet so perfect. Then, he moved, slowly but pushing within her with just enough force. She ground her hips into him, delighting in the rise and fall of each wave that crashed over her senses.
“Yes,” she exclaimed, feeling more and more of him with each thrust. He leaned his face over her chest and rest between her breasts. He kissed her, leaving a wet trail to each pert nipple and then nipping at them with his teeth.
She gasped as he pistoned within her faster, and she whimpered from the sensations as his teeth pulled harder at her sensitive skin. His hands encircled her waist, and he pulled her up, pushing her down on him when she couldn’t keep up. He grunted against her, and soon his sounds were drowned out when she could only feel him, ramming and branding himself within her, reaching so deep she’d lost all sense.
In all this grinding and clenching, she suddenly realized how beautiful he was, so hot and good, and that there was some woman out there who wasn’t related to him that would be missing out, but Peter was hers right now. He was hers, and she hoped that despite everything, she could keep him.
She felt him tense inside her; his body stilled as he let out one last ragged gasp. “I love you,” he said, followed by a long, desperate kiss. And then she felt it; her body shuddered and she felt hot and tepid, cool and spicy, all in one screaming pulse. She gripped his shoulders and cried, never wanting to let go.
Claire’s eyes opened, and she found his face, damp with sweat and painted with a contagious smile. Her body lulled into comfortable warmth, and she leaned in and rewarded him with a soft kiss.
“You took that from my brain, you thief,” she said playfully.
“It’s what you wanted,” he mused aloud, catching his breath between their kisses. “I never knew your mind was so dirty.”
“I told you that it was only what I wanted you to see,” she said, her arms falling on his shoulders. She ran her fingers through his hair and was glad he was growing it out again.
“I know,” he said lazily, pulling her close and smashing her breasts against his hard chest. He acted playful with a thoughtful expression. “I saw those too. We’ll have plenty of time to get to those later.”
“You mean…?” Her fears began to wash away. He nodded, and she felt a thrill surge through her. He leaned in and nuzzled his forehead against hers.
“I told you I love you. I mean it. I felt it when I met you, and despite everything, I still feel it.” His voice sounded serious. “With all that’s happened to us – in this family, do you think it’s really a bad thing in comparison?”
Claire shook her head, but she realized that she and Peter were really Petrellis after all. This was their malfunction, and as long as it didn’t hurt anyone, why would anyone deny them the chance to love? Especially since love was so lacking among the Petrellis in general.
“No, I don’t think it’s bad, Peter, but I will request one thing,” she said sheepishly.
Peter looked at her curiously, and Claire saw a slight flicker of worry. “I don’t want to tell anyone about it. I mean, my father still thinks I need to live in a plastic bubble, and Nathan…” She paused as she read his face. They were both thinking the worst.
“Yeah, you’re definitely right,” he said agreeably. He smiled at her and wrapped his arms around her and led her on her back against the sofa. He hovered over her and pushed a strand of hair behind her ears. Claire stared at him, never feeling so loved as she did with Peter right now.
“So, should we go back to the party?” Claire asked, as Peter leaned down and suckled at her neck.
He murmured ‘no’ against her skin, and when, she felt his lips on her earlobe, her body automatically arched to him.
“Oh!” she cried, and Peter came up with a big grin.
“You’re the one who pulled me into this room because you weren’t happy at the party.” He nuzzled his face against her neck, and his breath tickled her when he said, “I think we should stay right here.”
Claire giggled. “Okay, you win. Twist my arm already.” She closed her eyes as Peter’s fingers roamed her body again. “Still, I had my eyes on that first prize for the Halloween contest.”
“It’s rigged anyway,” Peter said with a laugh. “I pulled a thought out of Mom’s head. Sylar’s going to win it this year.”
“Aw, someone’s playing favorites again. I told you his costume should have been Mama’s Boy with a big umbilical cord attached to his shirt,” Claire cracked, and Peter let out a loud laugh.
“Enough about that,” he said, grinding his body into hers. He seemed pleased when she let out a moan. “You’re going to kill the mood.”
“I’m sorry,” she said innocently, rolling her eyes. Her expression softened, and she met his gaze. “Happy Halloween, Peter, and I love you too.”
Peter grinned, and Claire felt him slide inside her again, taut and ready. He pulled her into another breath stealing kiss and said, “Happy Halloween, Claire.”
This time, he moved slower and softer, and when he filled her again, she knew that Peter was the better prize in any contest.
END
