Five Times Noah Bennet Trusted Claude Rains and the One Time He Didn't
Title: Five Times Noah Bennet Trusted Claude Rains, and the One Time He Didn’t
Author: jaune_chat
Pairing: Noah/Claude
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,492
Spoilers: Through 1x17, “Company Man”
Warnings: mild dubcon, language
Disclaimer Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
Author’s Notes: Playing a little loose with the time of the arrival of Claire into the Bennet family. Just go with it. Thanks to brighteyed_jill for the beta. Written for soda_and_capes for the 2009 Valentine's Day heroes_exchange.
Summary: Trusting your partner can be hard…
1
“If you don’t relax, you’re going to keel over, and I don’t want to go back to Thompson and tell him that I need another new partner.”
Noah gave Claude a Look. They’d been partners for not quite a week, and already Claude was testing his patience to the limit.
“How many have you gone through?” Noah asked, feigning disinterest.
“Two. I’m hard on my partners. Or they just hate the fact that they never know where I am.”
“If you didn’t sound so smug about it, I’m sure they wouldn’t have taken it so hard,” Noah opined.
Claude laughed at that.
“Glad you have a sense of humor. Maybe that’ll keep you alive in the Company.”
Noah gave a small, exasperated sigh, and turned back to the shooting range. He was supposed to be doing his daily shooting practice, but Claude kept interrupting with pithy comments about everything he did. But in all other respects, procedure, skill, and experience, Claude was clearly one of the best. Noah wanted to work with the best.
Drawing his gun, Noah pounded out six shots, all clustered neatly in the center of the chest.
“Funny. Good shot and good looking. I got lucky this time,” Claude opined.
Noah turned to look at the empty air with shock. The door hadn’t opened, which meant Claude was still there, invisible, probably laughing silently at him. Probably. Without being able to see the expression on Claude’s face, Noah wasn’t exactly sure if he was joking or not.
“Was that a joke?” Noah asked finally.
“Not really.” Claude shimmered back into view, a cocky grin on his face.
“I have a wife,” Noah explained patiently. Claude shrugged philosophically.
“If you’re expecting to hear, ‘All the good ones are taken,’ then I’m afraid you’re out of luck. Long missions, lots of tension, sometimes things happen,” he said with a slightly disturbing level of cheer.
“Sorry, just not interested,” Noah said, politely but firmly.
“Just wanted to be upfront with you,” Claude said, shimmering back out of sight.
“I have a truthful invisible partner?” Noah asked skeptically.
“If we can’t have a bit of trust in this partnership, you should just turn yourself back into Thompson right now. I warn you though, the next one of us in line for a partner is a telepath.”
Noah winced at that. But in a job that was based around deception, his current partner had offered truth. He could do worse. He nodded respectfully in Claude’s direction and reloaded his gun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2
Noah lay barely dozing on his motel bed, unable to get properly sleep. They’d been trying to trap this special for over a week, and being away from Sandra so long was starting to wear on him. He knew this would happen before he took the job, but it was still wearing. Especially when he had made his nightly call to her, which just brought home everything he was missing. Particularly, but not necessarily importantly, being away from his beautiful wife’s bed.
He thought of her often, but mostly at night. During the day he was all business, all focus, but nights, when he wasn’t on stakeouts, were torturous. Sighing, he let his mind wander to the night before he’d left, and the little “good-bye celebration” they’d had. She’d gone down on him, showing a skill he didn’t know she had, her tongue rapidly circling the soft head of his erect cock. She’d sucked so much of him down her throat, he thought he’d disgrace himself and let it be over too soon.
But she’d pulled back and set up a good rhythm, stroking with both hands and tongue, circling, probing the end, lightly caressing his balls with a callused finger-.
Noah’s thoughts started to process faster as he opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. Sandra didn’t have calluses. But it felt so damn good, the wet slide of his cock down her throat-. It felt so real… Noah bucked his hips, and felt hands suddenly clamp over them to hold them in place.
Jerking upright on his elbows, Noah stared down at his groin, his cock painfully erect, faint indentations around the shaft from where an unseen hand was busy at work, end rippling from the sucking of a mouth with a clever tongue.
“Claude?” he asked incredulously. The sucking and stroking only increased in pace, and Noah felt his eyes roll back into his head at the surge of pleasure in his groin. It felt like his blood was starting to boil. He knew without looking that Claude’s bed would be empty, and if he peered closer into the dim room, that there would be knee indentations on the end of his bed.
Claude had been dropping broad hints for months that he found Noah attractive, but Noah had no interest in guys. Or at least nothing serious, barring an experiment or two in college. He had Sandra, and he never wanted to hurt her.
But long weeks on stalking trips to find specials and an endless parade of dingy hotel rooms gave neither man any privacy to take care of personal needs. Noah had caught himself looking at Claude sideways a time or two, but had dismissed it as the mind’s mischief. Apparently his mind had nothing on Claude’s extremely direct method of seduction.
Noah forced himself to focus at the spot where Claude had to be, wanting to open his mouth to yell at Claude to stop, wanting to jerk away from him, body-slam him into the wall and-. Noah stopped that thought before it could go any farther. He couldn’t be thinking this, couldn’t be accepting this, but he also could no more pull away from the surging jolts of white lightning gathering in his cock than he could stop breathing right now.
He couldn’t see Claude, and that somehow made it ok. He could pretend it was just a very intense wet dream, that he was thinking of Sandra… Noah flopped back down on the bed, and heard a faint noise of satisfaction that he carefully ignored. But he couldn’t ignore the firm, strong strokes along his shaft, the powerful sucking on the head, and the gentle stroking as his balls pulled up tight. Every muscle in Noah’s body went tight as he exploded, feeling the other’s throat muscles ripple as they clamped on and drained him dry, leaving him feeling boneless and exhausted.
Finally relaxed enough to sleep, Noah sought unconsciousness with all his might, trusting Claude not to say anything.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3
“You look shattered.”
Claude’s powers of observation were never less than astute, but even an idiot would have noticed the dark circles and bleary eyes Noah had sported as of late.
“It’s the baby,” Noah said in explanation. “Neither of us is getting much sleep.”
“Sandra holding up all right?” Claude asked, stowing the last of the bags in the trunk and heading around to the driver’s seat, steering Noah toward the passenger side. Despite the fact that Noah usually drove, he didn’t protest this time.
“More or less. This was all so unexpected…”
“I can’t relate, but I hear you,” Claude said with a surprising amount of sympathy. Noah raised one exhausted eyebrow. He’d expected far more jabs at his expense.
“Would you do it if the Company asked you?” Noah asked with a bit of curiosity.
Claude started up the car and headed for the freeway, considering the question.
“I don’t think I’d be a good parent. You’ll be smashing though,” Claude said with a bit of a grin.
“Only until she manifests,” Noah said pointedly. It might be hell on Sandra if they ended up losing Claire, but it would be all for the best…
Claude fell silent for a second, and then shrugged and nodded. Handing a young child over to the Company was the least of the things they’d been asked to do in order to keep people safe from dangerous specials.
“She have a nickname yet?” Claude asked.
“Claire-Bear,” Noah said with a tired smile. There was a story behind that, but he wasn’t going to tell Claude everything. Claude grinned at the nickname.
“You should get her a teddy bear,” he opined. Noah raised his eyebrow again. “Bloody hell man, you’re going to be on the road half her life. Get her a bear from where you’ve been. Bet she’d like that.”
Noah blinked and rubbed his eyes, thinking.
“Yeah, I bet she would. She’s a really sweet kid, even if I haven’t been getting more than three hours of sleep at a stretch,” Noah confessed. “I just don’t want to get too involved. Policy.”
“Doesn’t mean either of you have to be miserable either,” Claude pointed out.
Noah considered the few moments of pure dopey happiness he had felt very early this morning, holding Sandra as she had held the fast-asleep Claire, feeling like his heart was going to burst with pride as he looked down at his adopted daughter. It had lasted only as long as it had taken him to take a shower and get a cup of coffee, but Noah didn’t like to admit weakness. Getting a toy for his new baby girl might have been considered weakness by some other agents, but Claude wouldn’t betray the small confession.
“Remind me to stop at the airport gift shop on the way back from Baltimore, will you?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
4
Noah briefly scanned the crowd through the windshield of his car, ascertaining their target hadn’t arrived yet, and then sipped his coffee from his Styrofoam cup as he looked through the files in his briefcase balanced on his lap. He had to study up further on this next special before they went to tag-.
There was a faint thread of sound beside him, a very quiet sigh, Claude’s equivalent of, “Hey, I’m right here, remember? So don’t jump and scream.” But instead of the second file folder turning invisible, signaling that Claude had taken it for his own inspection, an unseen hand began to rub Noah’s tense neck.
Noah managed not to inhale his coffee by accident, and knew better than to glare at the supposedly empty passenger seat. But that didn’t stop him from muttering, “Claude,” in a very quiet tone of dire warning.
“Hotel,” Claude said back, his voice just as quiet.
“We have a mission,” Noah said tightly, the merest thread of a whisper. Now was not the time for fooling around.
“Didja skim that file last night? This one can smell fear, nerves, and tension. Hell of a truth detector, and she’s got a good range. You’re tense, and I could’ve told you that at a hundred feet away.”
Noah stared stonily at the file in his hands. He had a lot going on right now. Claire was partway though elementary school, with all the trials and troubles that brought. And with Lyle just starting kindergarten, Sandra had an empty house during the day for the first time in several years. So she’d bought a dog, and was dead-set on learning how to show him. Apparently “Mr. Muggles” had excellent papers. Noah was juggling everything his family could throw at him, and sometimes was looking forward to missions as a way to relax.
But when you hunted down specials for a living, there was only a certain amount of relaxation that could happen. Some of these people were incredibly dangerous, and it only took a moment’s inattention, or one mistake, to get you killed. If he hadn’t had Claude at his back, Noah was certain that he’d have ended up shot, burned, electrocuted, liquefied, or dead in some other unfortunate manner before now.
It was also having Claude around in ways that had nothing to do with the missions that helped. He was a physical relief from tension and stress, whether from assignments or from home, and he never said a damn word about it outside of work. That allowed Noah to live with himself. But sometimes Claude just had to push the boundaries… Going back to the hotel, no matter what ensued there afterward, wasn’t going to relax Noah for long.
“I can get myself calm before we go after her,” Noah whispered sternly. Claude’s hand didn’t go away from his neck. A soft snort from the passenger’s side meant that Claude thought Noah was fooling himself. It sometimes amazed Noah that he knew Claude’s moods through his voice far better than his expression. But that was what you had to do when you had an invisible partner.
Learning not to jump and shriek when something unseen touched you was also something you had to do. Noah put that to work right then when Claude’s other hand slithered under the briefcase and began to palm his cock through his clothes. Claude had apparently decided that Noah needed “help” in taking the edge off of his tension. Protestation at this stage would be noticed, because he’d have to force Claude to quit, and that would involve yelling or forcibly removing Claude’s hand. If the target didn’t spook, the passers-by would probably call the cops about someone yelling at an invisible man.
Noah instead kept the file folder steady and his back straight, not sagging back against the seat like he wanted to, not closing his eyes and sighing in contentment. Whatever-the-hell-else Claude thought he was doing, he was damn good at getting Noah off. He let a small shiver run through him as Claude’s hand stroked him to hardness, and forced himself to focus on the file instead of letting his eyes roll back in his head. Claude kept up a slow pace, partially to draw it out, partially to see if Noah could handle it without giving any sign to anyone outside the car, and partially to make sure he didn’t knock the concealing briefcase off of Noah’s lap.
“This is going to make a damn mess,” Noah whispered as the throbbing deepened in his groin.
“You could have driven us back to the hotel, and I could have given you a nice blowjob, but now you’re stuck,” Claude whispered back. Noah had to admit Claude had him there.
The file started to tremble in his hands, and Noah leaned it against the steering wheel, sucking in breaths through his teeth to keep from making any noise that would attract attention. Claude had managed to get a better grip and the stroking got harder, with firm squeezes at the tip that had Noah locking all his muscles to keep from thrusting into Claude’s hand.
His breath shuddered in his chest as he felt the pulses building to a crescendo, and moaned very softly in his throat as he finally let go, muscles relaxing, file folder nearly dropping from his hands, eyes drooping, as Claude stroked him though the aftermath and withdrew his hand.
Noah took a few moments to recover the ability to speak, as coming down from the powerful sexual high was very long trip. When he was finally coherent, he calmly flipped a page in the file and said, “You’re a fucking asshole sometimes Claude.”
“Promises, promises,” came Claude’s response from the passenger’s side.
“I intend to deliver on that promise,” Noah said sternly. “You can trust me on that.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
5
Noah dropped to the mattress, sweat-soaked, exhausted, and sore. He turned his face to the side after a minute after discovering that he couldn’t breathe through the covers, and heaved in grateful breaths. Claude groaned and slowly pried himself from on top of him, and Noah hissed in pain as his body slowly adjusted back to normal.
“That hurt,” Noah said finally, and Claude snorted.
“Told you to use more lube, tough guy.”
“You were impatient,” Noah said. He groaned slightly as he pushed himself off the bed, wincing as his skin peeled itself away from the now-sticky duvet.
Impatient had been an understatement. He and Claude had finished another bag and tag operation just a few days ago, and had spent most of today running tests on the special. This one had unusual lungs that could expel deadly gases, and it was necessary to figure out how it worked before determining what needed to happen to the subject. It had been a rather gruesome day, but the lab techs had needed their help in interrogating the special.
Claude had come out of that in such a strange dark mood that Noah didn’t want to let him out of his sight. Working those kinds of cases always put Claude out of temper, but today in particular Claude had looked about five minutes from doing something drastic, like getting horribly drunk. He trusted Claude to keep working no matter what; they both believed this was necessary, but it was always hard on him. Noah wasn’t sure what he’d end up doing, but if Claude ended up wrapping their car around a tree, they’d have a hell of a time explaining that to Thompson.
Since they’d had the hotel room in Pasadena for another night, Noah had suggested going back there. Once inside, Claude had nearly forced him down and drilled him hard, pushing in so damn deep, so fucking fast, with no time to adjust, no wait for the pain to stop, just endless thrusting, Claude’s hand gripping Noah’s short hair, the faint noises from Claude telling him he wanted it to hurt.
And Noah… trusted him not to take it too far. But Jesus he was going to be sore for days.
“So what if I was?” Claude grated, walking slowly over to the sink to find a wet cloth. Noah ignored the attitude.
“You going to be ready tomorrow?”
Claude shimmered out of view and snarled nearly silently.
“Yeah.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
6
Noah could feel his breath coming fast and angry, his pulse rising, an anger twisting in his gut that compounded feelings of betrayal and pain into a horrible throbbing sensation. Claude. How dare he? How fucking dare he?!
The mole in the Company, the one that had helped specials escape the facility and had warned off others, who was harboring one now, was his partner. The man he’d known for eight years, the one he trusted implicitly with secrets that he hadn’t told another living soul. The one who knew about the love Noah held for his daughter.
The one who’d been brave enough to do what Noah wouldn’t. Noah was a Company man. Noah would turn Claire over once she manifested. Claude had confused the issue; had suggested the damn bears, had given him release from tension, had made him see Claire as more than an assignment, just as Claude had become more than a partner. He’d planted seeds of doubt in Noah’s head, that maybe the Company way wasn’t always the best way.
Damn him.
Claude had to die. Thompson had told him to do it on the bridge.
Just dying was too good for him.
Claude opened the door to the motel room, raising one eyebrow at Noah’s agitated state.
“What happened to you?” he asked casually.
Noah snapped.
Two steps and he had Claude by the wrist, which shimmered into invisibility, along with the rest of him. Good. This would be a hell of a lot easier if Noah didn’t have to look him in the face.
“I have had the worst damn day,” Noah growled.
Claude didn’t hesitate when Noah dragged him over to the bed, and only grunted slightly when Noah shoved him down hard. This was almost exactly what Claude had done to him a few weeks back, and Noah now realized exactly why Claude had done it. Bastard.
Noah’s hands sought out Claude’s clothes, divesting him of trousers and underwear as fast as possible, splitting him open with spit-slick fingers in ruthless efficiency. Claude panted at the painful invasion, and Noah could see the bedspread wrinkle as he crumpled it with his fists.
A soft growl tickling the back of Noah’s throat, and the sick throbbing in his cock seemingly focusing all of his rage and hate. Claude actually gave a muted scream into the bed when Noah pierced him, an unexpected cry of surprise and pain, which only made Noah thrust faster and harder. Damn him. He used to want this during missions; he used to think this was good. Damn Claude. Damn him, damn him, damn him, damnhimdamnhimdamnhim-!
Noah bit down on his own hand to stop from crying out when he came, and Claude only groaned into the bed again, going slack underneath him. Noah pulled away fast, still feeling unsatisfied, jaw set in a stony expression. Claude didn’t become visible again until he’d completely clothed himself. He didn’t speak a word.
“We have to take a trip,” Noah said simply. Claude nodded, looking resigned.
“This is about the mole, right?” he asked. Noah nodded sharply, and Claude met his eyes squarely, as he rarely ever did.
“Then let’s get going. The Company trusts us to get this done right.”
Noah waited until Claude turned to tighten his hand around the grip of his gun, fingering it like a talisman. Yes, the Company trusted him to get this right. Him and him alone.
All alone.
Author: jaune_chat
Pairing: Noah/Claude
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,492
Spoilers: Through 1x17, “Company Man”
Warnings: mild dubcon, language
Disclaimer Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
Author’s Notes: Playing a little loose with the time of the arrival of Claire into the Bennet family. Just go with it. Thanks to brighteyed_jill for the beta. Written for soda_and_capes for the 2009 Valentine's Day heroes_exchange.
Summary: Trusting your partner can be hard…
1
“If you don’t relax, you’re going to keel over, and I don’t want to go back to Thompson and tell him that I need another new partner.”
Noah gave Claude a Look. They’d been partners for not quite a week, and already Claude was testing his patience to the limit.
“How many have you gone through?” Noah asked, feigning disinterest.
“Two. I’m hard on my partners. Or they just hate the fact that they never know where I am.”
“If you didn’t sound so smug about it, I’m sure they wouldn’t have taken it so hard,” Noah opined.
Claude laughed at that.
“Glad you have a sense of humor. Maybe that’ll keep you alive in the Company.”
Noah gave a small, exasperated sigh, and turned back to the shooting range. He was supposed to be doing his daily shooting practice, but Claude kept interrupting with pithy comments about everything he did. But in all other respects, procedure, skill, and experience, Claude was clearly one of the best. Noah wanted to work with the best.
Drawing his gun, Noah pounded out six shots, all clustered neatly in the center of the chest.
“Funny. Good shot and good looking. I got lucky this time,” Claude opined.
Noah turned to look at the empty air with shock. The door hadn’t opened, which meant Claude was still there, invisible, probably laughing silently at him. Probably. Without being able to see the expression on Claude’s face, Noah wasn’t exactly sure if he was joking or not.
“Was that a joke?” Noah asked finally.
“Not really.” Claude shimmered back into view, a cocky grin on his face.
“I have a wife,” Noah explained patiently. Claude shrugged philosophically.
“If you’re expecting to hear, ‘All the good ones are taken,’ then I’m afraid you’re out of luck. Long missions, lots of tension, sometimes things happen,” he said with a slightly disturbing level of cheer.
“Sorry, just not interested,” Noah said, politely but firmly.
“Just wanted to be upfront with you,” Claude said, shimmering back out of sight.
“I have a truthful invisible partner?” Noah asked skeptically.
“If we can’t have a bit of trust in this partnership, you should just turn yourself back into Thompson right now. I warn you though, the next one of us in line for a partner is a telepath.”
Noah winced at that. But in a job that was based around deception, his current partner had offered truth. He could do worse. He nodded respectfully in Claude’s direction and reloaded his gun.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2
Noah lay barely dozing on his motel bed, unable to get properly sleep. They’d been trying to trap this special for over a week, and being away from Sandra so long was starting to wear on him. He knew this would happen before he took the job, but it was still wearing. Especially when he had made his nightly call to her, which just brought home everything he was missing. Particularly, but not necessarily importantly, being away from his beautiful wife’s bed.
He thought of her often, but mostly at night. During the day he was all business, all focus, but nights, when he wasn’t on stakeouts, were torturous. Sighing, he let his mind wander to the night before he’d left, and the little “good-bye celebration” they’d had. She’d gone down on him, showing a skill he didn’t know she had, her tongue rapidly circling the soft head of his erect cock. She’d sucked so much of him down her throat, he thought he’d disgrace himself and let it be over too soon.
But she’d pulled back and set up a good rhythm, stroking with both hands and tongue, circling, probing the end, lightly caressing his balls with a callused finger-.
Noah’s thoughts started to process faster as he opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. Sandra didn’t have calluses. But it felt so damn good, the wet slide of his cock down her throat-. It felt so real… Noah bucked his hips, and felt hands suddenly clamp over them to hold them in place.
Jerking upright on his elbows, Noah stared down at his groin, his cock painfully erect, faint indentations around the shaft from where an unseen hand was busy at work, end rippling from the sucking of a mouth with a clever tongue.
“Claude?” he asked incredulously. The sucking and stroking only increased in pace, and Noah felt his eyes roll back into his head at the surge of pleasure in his groin. It felt like his blood was starting to boil. He knew without looking that Claude’s bed would be empty, and if he peered closer into the dim room, that there would be knee indentations on the end of his bed.
Claude had been dropping broad hints for months that he found Noah attractive, but Noah had no interest in guys. Or at least nothing serious, barring an experiment or two in college. He had Sandra, and he never wanted to hurt her.
But long weeks on stalking trips to find specials and an endless parade of dingy hotel rooms gave neither man any privacy to take care of personal needs. Noah had caught himself looking at Claude sideways a time or two, but had dismissed it as the mind’s mischief. Apparently his mind had nothing on Claude’s extremely direct method of seduction.
Noah forced himself to focus at the spot where Claude had to be, wanting to open his mouth to yell at Claude to stop, wanting to jerk away from him, body-slam him into the wall and-. Noah stopped that thought before it could go any farther. He couldn’t be thinking this, couldn’t be accepting this, but he also could no more pull away from the surging jolts of white lightning gathering in his cock than he could stop breathing right now.
He couldn’t see Claude, and that somehow made it ok. He could pretend it was just a very intense wet dream, that he was thinking of Sandra… Noah flopped back down on the bed, and heard a faint noise of satisfaction that he carefully ignored. But he couldn’t ignore the firm, strong strokes along his shaft, the powerful sucking on the head, and the gentle stroking as his balls pulled up tight. Every muscle in Noah’s body went tight as he exploded, feeling the other’s throat muscles ripple as they clamped on and drained him dry, leaving him feeling boneless and exhausted.
Finally relaxed enough to sleep, Noah sought unconsciousness with all his might, trusting Claude not to say anything.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
3
“You look shattered.”
Claude’s powers of observation were never less than astute, but even an idiot would have noticed the dark circles and bleary eyes Noah had sported as of late.
“It’s the baby,” Noah said in explanation. “Neither of us is getting much sleep.”
“Sandra holding up all right?” Claude asked, stowing the last of the bags in the trunk and heading around to the driver’s seat, steering Noah toward the passenger side. Despite the fact that Noah usually drove, he didn’t protest this time.
“More or less. This was all so unexpected…”
“I can’t relate, but I hear you,” Claude said with a surprising amount of sympathy. Noah raised one exhausted eyebrow. He’d expected far more jabs at his expense.
“Would you do it if the Company asked you?” Noah asked with a bit of curiosity.
Claude started up the car and headed for the freeway, considering the question.
“I don’t think I’d be a good parent. You’ll be smashing though,” Claude said with a bit of a grin.
“Only until she manifests,” Noah said pointedly. It might be hell on Sandra if they ended up losing Claire, but it would be all for the best…
Claude fell silent for a second, and then shrugged and nodded. Handing a young child over to the Company was the least of the things they’d been asked to do in order to keep people safe from dangerous specials.
“She have a nickname yet?” Claude asked.
“Claire-Bear,” Noah said with a tired smile. There was a story behind that, but he wasn’t going to tell Claude everything. Claude grinned at the nickname.
“You should get her a teddy bear,” he opined. Noah raised his eyebrow again. “Bloody hell man, you’re going to be on the road half her life. Get her a bear from where you’ve been. Bet she’d like that.”
Noah blinked and rubbed his eyes, thinking.
“Yeah, I bet she would. She’s a really sweet kid, even if I haven’t been getting more than three hours of sleep at a stretch,” Noah confessed. “I just don’t want to get too involved. Policy.”
“Doesn’t mean either of you have to be miserable either,” Claude pointed out.
Noah considered the few moments of pure dopey happiness he had felt very early this morning, holding Sandra as she had held the fast-asleep Claire, feeling like his heart was going to burst with pride as he looked down at his adopted daughter. It had lasted only as long as it had taken him to take a shower and get a cup of coffee, but Noah didn’t like to admit weakness. Getting a toy for his new baby girl might have been considered weakness by some other agents, but Claude wouldn’t betray the small confession.
“Remind me to stop at the airport gift shop on the way back from Baltimore, will you?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
4
Noah briefly scanned the crowd through the windshield of his car, ascertaining their target hadn’t arrived yet, and then sipped his coffee from his Styrofoam cup as he looked through the files in his briefcase balanced on his lap. He had to study up further on this next special before they went to tag-.
There was a faint thread of sound beside him, a very quiet sigh, Claude’s equivalent of, “Hey, I’m right here, remember? So don’t jump and scream.” But instead of the second file folder turning invisible, signaling that Claude had taken it for his own inspection, an unseen hand began to rub Noah’s tense neck.
Noah managed not to inhale his coffee by accident, and knew better than to glare at the supposedly empty passenger seat. But that didn’t stop him from muttering, “Claude,” in a very quiet tone of dire warning.
“Hotel,” Claude said back, his voice just as quiet.
“We have a mission,” Noah said tightly, the merest thread of a whisper. Now was not the time for fooling around.
“Didja skim that file last night? This one can smell fear, nerves, and tension. Hell of a truth detector, and she’s got a good range. You’re tense, and I could’ve told you that at a hundred feet away.”
Noah stared stonily at the file in his hands. He had a lot going on right now. Claire was partway though elementary school, with all the trials and troubles that brought. And with Lyle just starting kindergarten, Sandra had an empty house during the day for the first time in several years. So she’d bought a dog, and was dead-set on learning how to show him. Apparently “Mr. Muggles” had excellent papers. Noah was juggling everything his family could throw at him, and sometimes was looking forward to missions as a way to relax.
But when you hunted down specials for a living, there was only a certain amount of relaxation that could happen. Some of these people were incredibly dangerous, and it only took a moment’s inattention, or one mistake, to get you killed. If he hadn’t had Claude at his back, Noah was certain that he’d have ended up shot, burned, electrocuted, liquefied, or dead in some other unfortunate manner before now.
It was also having Claude around in ways that had nothing to do with the missions that helped. He was a physical relief from tension and stress, whether from assignments or from home, and he never said a damn word about it outside of work. That allowed Noah to live with himself. But sometimes Claude just had to push the boundaries… Going back to the hotel, no matter what ensued there afterward, wasn’t going to relax Noah for long.
“I can get myself calm before we go after her,” Noah whispered sternly. Claude’s hand didn’t go away from his neck. A soft snort from the passenger’s side meant that Claude thought Noah was fooling himself. It sometimes amazed Noah that he knew Claude’s moods through his voice far better than his expression. But that was what you had to do when you had an invisible partner.
Learning not to jump and shriek when something unseen touched you was also something you had to do. Noah put that to work right then when Claude’s other hand slithered under the briefcase and began to palm his cock through his clothes. Claude had apparently decided that Noah needed “help” in taking the edge off of his tension. Protestation at this stage would be noticed, because he’d have to force Claude to quit, and that would involve yelling or forcibly removing Claude’s hand. If the target didn’t spook, the passers-by would probably call the cops about someone yelling at an invisible man.
Noah instead kept the file folder steady and his back straight, not sagging back against the seat like he wanted to, not closing his eyes and sighing in contentment. Whatever-the-hell-else Claude thought he was doing, he was damn good at getting Noah off. He let a small shiver run through him as Claude’s hand stroked him to hardness, and forced himself to focus on the file instead of letting his eyes roll back in his head. Claude kept up a slow pace, partially to draw it out, partially to see if Noah could handle it without giving any sign to anyone outside the car, and partially to make sure he didn’t knock the concealing briefcase off of Noah’s lap.
“This is going to make a damn mess,” Noah whispered as the throbbing deepened in his groin.
“You could have driven us back to the hotel, and I could have given you a nice blowjob, but now you’re stuck,” Claude whispered back. Noah had to admit Claude had him there.
The file started to tremble in his hands, and Noah leaned it against the steering wheel, sucking in breaths through his teeth to keep from making any noise that would attract attention. Claude had managed to get a better grip and the stroking got harder, with firm squeezes at the tip that had Noah locking all his muscles to keep from thrusting into Claude’s hand.
His breath shuddered in his chest as he felt the pulses building to a crescendo, and moaned very softly in his throat as he finally let go, muscles relaxing, file folder nearly dropping from his hands, eyes drooping, as Claude stroked him though the aftermath and withdrew his hand.
Noah took a few moments to recover the ability to speak, as coming down from the powerful sexual high was very long trip. When he was finally coherent, he calmly flipped a page in the file and said, “You’re a fucking asshole sometimes Claude.”
“Promises, promises,” came Claude’s response from the passenger’s side.
“I intend to deliver on that promise,” Noah said sternly. “You can trust me on that.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
5
Noah dropped to the mattress, sweat-soaked, exhausted, and sore. He turned his face to the side after a minute after discovering that he couldn’t breathe through the covers, and heaved in grateful breaths. Claude groaned and slowly pried himself from on top of him, and Noah hissed in pain as his body slowly adjusted back to normal.
“That hurt,” Noah said finally, and Claude snorted.
“Told you to use more lube, tough guy.”
“You were impatient,” Noah said. He groaned slightly as he pushed himself off the bed, wincing as his skin peeled itself away from the now-sticky duvet.
Impatient had been an understatement. He and Claude had finished another bag and tag operation just a few days ago, and had spent most of today running tests on the special. This one had unusual lungs that could expel deadly gases, and it was necessary to figure out how it worked before determining what needed to happen to the subject. It had been a rather gruesome day, but the lab techs had needed their help in interrogating the special.
Claude had come out of that in such a strange dark mood that Noah didn’t want to let him out of his sight. Working those kinds of cases always put Claude out of temper, but today in particular Claude had looked about five minutes from doing something drastic, like getting horribly drunk. He trusted Claude to keep working no matter what; they both believed this was necessary, but it was always hard on him. Noah wasn’t sure what he’d end up doing, but if Claude ended up wrapping their car around a tree, they’d have a hell of a time explaining that to Thompson.
Since they’d had the hotel room in Pasadena for another night, Noah had suggested going back there. Once inside, Claude had nearly forced him down and drilled him hard, pushing in so damn deep, so fucking fast, with no time to adjust, no wait for the pain to stop, just endless thrusting, Claude’s hand gripping Noah’s short hair, the faint noises from Claude telling him he wanted it to hurt.
And Noah… trusted him not to take it too far. But Jesus he was going to be sore for days.
“So what if I was?” Claude grated, walking slowly over to the sink to find a wet cloth. Noah ignored the attitude.
“You going to be ready tomorrow?”
Claude shimmered out of view and snarled nearly silently.
“Yeah.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
6
Noah could feel his breath coming fast and angry, his pulse rising, an anger twisting in his gut that compounded feelings of betrayal and pain into a horrible throbbing sensation. Claude. How dare he? How fucking dare he?!
The mole in the Company, the one that had helped specials escape the facility and had warned off others, who was harboring one now, was his partner. The man he’d known for eight years, the one he trusted implicitly with secrets that he hadn’t told another living soul. The one who knew about the love Noah held for his daughter.
The one who’d been brave enough to do what Noah wouldn’t. Noah was a Company man. Noah would turn Claire over once she manifested. Claude had confused the issue; had suggested the damn bears, had given him release from tension, had made him see Claire as more than an assignment, just as Claude had become more than a partner. He’d planted seeds of doubt in Noah’s head, that maybe the Company way wasn’t always the best way.
Damn him.
Claude had to die. Thompson had told him to do it on the bridge.
Just dying was too good for him.
Claude opened the door to the motel room, raising one eyebrow at Noah’s agitated state.
“What happened to you?” he asked casually.
Noah snapped.
Two steps and he had Claude by the wrist, which shimmered into invisibility, along with the rest of him. Good. This would be a hell of a lot easier if Noah didn’t have to look him in the face.
“I have had the worst damn day,” Noah growled.
Claude didn’t hesitate when Noah dragged him over to the bed, and only grunted slightly when Noah shoved him down hard. This was almost exactly what Claude had done to him a few weeks back, and Noah now realized exactly why Claude had done it. Bastard.
Noah’s hands sought out Claude’s clothes, divesting him of trousers and underwear as fast as possible, splitting him open with spit-slick fingers in ruthless efficiency. Claude panted at the painful invasion, and Noah could see the bedspread wrinkle as he crumpled it with his fists.
A soft growl tickling the back of Noah’s throat, and the sick throbbing in his cock seemingly focusing all of his rage and hate. Claude actually gave a muted scream into the bed when Noah pierced him, an unexpected cry of surprise and pain, which only made Noah thrust faster and harder. Damn him. He used to want this during missions; he used to think this was good. Damn Claude. Damn him, damn him, damn him, damnhimdamnhimdamnhim-!
Noah bit down on his own hand to stop from crying out when he came, and Claude only groaned into the bed again, going slack underneath him. Noah pulled away fast, still feeling unsatisfied, jaw set in a stony expression. Claude didn’t become visible again until he’d completely clothed himself. He didn’t speak a word.
“We have to take a trip,” Noah said simply. Claude nodded, looking resigned.
“This is about the mole, right?” he asked. Noah nodded sharply, and Claude met his eyes squarely, as he rarely ever did.
“Then let’s get going. The Company trusts us to get this done right.”
Noah waited until Claude turned to tighten his hand around the grip of his gun, fingering it like a talisman. Yes, the Company trusted him to get this right. Him and him alone.
All alone.