A Time For Family - Heroes Fanfic - Peter/Claire
Title: A Time For Family
Author: modernxxmyth
Fandom: Heroes
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Claire, Nathan as a side character
Rating: R/NC-17 to be safe. I'd call it R, personally.
Word Count: 2,006
Summary: It's Christmas time, and Claire's spending the holidays with her family. Her biological family. Set about a year, maybe a years and a half after Season 2. Pre-established relationship. Lusty, fun, sultry, secretive, hints of angst, plenty of fluff, a bit sarcastic. Have fun.
Author's Notes: My deat friend Jane (phoenix39) requested this of me, and I did my best to comply. Happy hoidays, everyone! And have a very pairey christmas. [/awkward pun]
A Time for Family
It was the holiday season, and at the Petrelli household, the season showed. There was a huge tree in one of the living rooms, and presents surrounded it, stacked in enormous piles beneath it. The house was enormous, of course, but only three people were in it for the holidays. Three very interesting people. It was one of those family Christmas gatherings. Noah was gone (doing god knows what for that damn company), and Claire was spending some time with her other family.
She got him something casual, something meaningless. It had to be that way - meaningless and casual - they couldn’t know each other too well. He did the same, of course. A card (she was glad he didn’t sign it Uncle Peter. The words still left a bad taste in her mouth), a nice leather-bound book - he knew she’d be that type who read constantly, when alone, with her headphones in.
It was dinner, later, and Nathan was preparing the table while Peter and Claire slipped outside, “It’s stuffy…We need some fresh air.”
Doors closed and Peter’s body pinned Claire’s up against the wall. A kiss of desperation - a quick, gentle caress of tongues, soon to be lost in wild passion. Claire broke it off, a trace of a smirk on her lips, “Do you want your real present now?”
Peter raised his eyebrows suggestively, “Did you get me what I wanted?”
Claire swatted him playfully, “Shut-up, you.” She attempted a frown, but her eyes were grinning, that will come later tonight. (He heard her, of course.) She reached into her pocket and muttered an apology about the gift not being wrapped.
“Here,” she said, handing a rectangular, deep burgundy object to him.
Peter took it, and upon close examination, recognized it as a journal. It had a large, golden “P” emblazoned upon the front of it. He smiled wistfully. He’d told Claire about three months prior that writing things down was one of his only ways to cope, what with everything they’d been through. He opened it up, and flipped through the pages. They were lined in a muted shade of crimson (How fitting, he thought a bit morbidly, what with who it was coming from). He turned the journal over, and emblazoned upon it was a very small heart in the corner and a gold “C” right next to it.
Peter ran a hand through his hair and smiled. “Thank you.” He kissed her then, leaving the taste of a sigh on her lips. Moments later he pulled away. “My turn,” he grinned. He pulled a small box out of his pocket and handed it to Claire.
The box was a velvety blue, and Claire opened it quickly. Inside was a white-gold chain with a decorated heart hanging from it. Inside the design of the heart was a “C.”
“It’s lovely,” she said with a smile, and kissed him chastely. “But what is it with us and initials this year?” They grin identically.
Inside later, “Claire,” Nathan spoke with confusion, “were you wearing that necklace earlier?”
She bit the inside of her cheek from grinning. Would she have to lie to all of her fathers? “Yes, of course,” was her reply.
Nathan frowned and shrugged. “I guess I didn’t notice. It’s nice. Where’d you get it?”
She searched for an excuse. Nothing else with family, please, she told herself. “Ex-boyfriend.”
Nathan raised an eyebrow, silently asking her to elaborate.
“Uh…when I was leaving California. It was a …goodbye present. ” She raked her mind for a distracter. “He could fly, too, you know.”
Peter held back a laugh from across the room. Claire and her flyers.
Bits and pieces of conversation continued until the dinner table, Nathan’s back turned on Peter and Claire’s continuous, subtle glances and smiles as he cooked (attempted) at the stove.
Nathan finally said, a bit later, “Dinner is served.”
“Pass the bread?” she asked when seated at the table. It seemed routine, but dear god, they were trying.
After dinner, “Anyone want coffee?” Nathan asked. Everyone did, and when Nathan asked Claire how she liked hers, Peter had to try his absolute hardest not to automatically respond, “One cream and two sugars.”
The family of sorts enjoyed their coffee, making casual discussion about movies (“I can’t look at those Superman movies the same anymore”), music (Nathan asked Claire, “You’re not one of those teenagers who listens to that rap music, are you?), and television (“There’s simply no time, now-a-days,” was the unanimous reply).
Claire had a long break from school - everyone blows off their senior year anyway - so she stayed at their house. It’s such a mansion, she often thought. Her room was two left turns, one right turn, and twenty paces forward (she’s counted) from Peter’s room. Late that night, during those hours where the sun debated with the moon on who was leading in their twisted tango, Claire walked the map in her head to Peter’s room and opened the door quietly. He sat up sharply, palm out with blue electricity at the ready - his reflexes never changed after everything that they’d been through.
She closed the door behind her, and his stature relaxed. “Hey, you,” she greeted him with a grin.
“Hey yourself,” he smiled.
They had to be quiet she knew, but oh, it wouldn’t be easy. “Where’s Nathan’s room, again?” (She’ll never, ever call him Dad.)
“Downstairs and on the other side of the house,” he replied, wriggling his eyebrows.
She breathed out a sigh of relief, “That solves that problem, then.”
Claire crawled onto his bed - and, oh, how huge it was - and pressed her lips to his. She shifted her body to straddle his, her kisses getting wilder, needier. Claire pulled away after several minutes, breathing labored. She spoke, “So, I was thinking. Do you want your other Christmas present now?” Her eyes were mischievous.
Peter’s smile quirked to one side. “Oh yeah.” He kissed her again and moved his hands beneath Claire’s shirt, dragging his hands up and down the smoothness of her bare stomach. Moments later, he pulled the shirt off of her desperately. She quickly returned the favor, pulling his off, as well. Claire stood up for a moment, and quickly peeled off her pants.
Peter’s eyes widened, as she stood before him in matching bra and panties. They were predominantly a deep red, form-fitting to her curves perfectly, with hints of green lace. Claire spoke, voice a little huskier than normal, “Merry Christmas.”
Peter let out a breathy chuckle. “Merry Christmas, indeed.” He then grabbed her and pulled her down on to the bed, on top of him. He kissed her again, and his wandering hands fueled the fire of passion. Claire sat up and undid his pants, sliding them down to his ankles, and he kicked them off. As she crawled towards her previous position, Peter grabbed her and flipped her over so that she was beneath him. He pressed his body to hers, kissing her, his hardness felt easily against Claire’s thigh.
Claire moaned into his mouth and raked her nails lightly down Peter’s back. He smiled slightly at her response and swiftly undid the clasp of her bra, removing it from her. He kissed her again with fervor, as the pads of his thumbs lightly caressed her already erect nipples. Claire moaned again and her hands crept lower down his back. They snaked their way under the elastic waistband of his plaid boxers and cupped his ass. Peter shuddered slightly against her touch, and Claire’s hands slid to the front of him. She lightly dragged a finger down the length of his shaft, and he spoke in unstable breaths, “Exactly how fast do you want this to be over?”
Claire smiled and formed her whole hand around him, squeezing him lightly and dragging her hand down the length of him once more. Peter cried out. “Claire,” he gasped, half-warning, half-begging. Claire removed her hand deftly from his boxers and trailed it slowly up his torso, trailing it all the way to his head, where her hands made their way into his hair. She kissed him passionately, her tongue caressing his as he worked her silky panties off of her body. Claire shivered slightly as Peter caressed her lower-lips with his thumb. He parted the lips and trailed his finger upward, thumb finding her clit. He circled it once, slowly, and Claire cried out, bucking her hips against his hand. “Peter…” she let out a breathy whisper. “Mhm...Peter…”
“What do you want, Claire?” he asked. “What do you want?”
Claire looked at him, eyes dark with lust and need. “You know what I want, Peter.”
Peter smiled inwardly. “Tell me.”
Claire cried out in frustration as his thumb pressed lightly against her entrance, the pressure there teasing her. “I want…” she let out a gasp as his thumb circled her clit again. “I want you.”
That was all it took. Peter pulled away from Claire with a sigh of disappointment on her part, and he slipped out of his boxers quickly. He positioned himself at her entrance and caressed her cheek, gazing at her for a moment. It wasn’t their first time together - they’d gotten to know each other’s bodies intimately a few months ago - but every time felt new for them. It was a rarity that they were able to be together in such a way, and each occasion was as special for the pair.
With a quick kiss upon Claire’s lips, Peter thrust into her. He paused for a moment, allowing her body to adjust to his size. Then he began to move again inside her, and she quickly matched his rhythm. Peter created a pattern of thumbing her clit lazily every few thrusts, each time Claire moaning in pleasure. When Peter began to feel Claire’s walls tighten around him, he quickened his pace, both of them moving together in tandem. A combination of moans and sighs and groans and grunts filled the air of the room. Claire bit her lip and cried out, her body finally beginning to spasm against Peter. Her breath came in rapid gasps and moans, as her orgasm overtook her. “Peter,” she cried out. The sound of the his name coming from Claire’s lips was enough to take Peter over the edge, as he emptied himself into her with a grunt and a ragged “Claire…” that fell off his lips. He collapsed on top of her for just a moment, until he regained the strength to roll of her, pulling her into his arms beside him.
Claire let out a contented sigh and turned towards Peter, still in his arms, a hazy smile crossing her lips. She gently caressed his chest, trailing an idle hand across him and kissing him chastely on the lips. He responded in kind.
Peter always liked the feel of Claire beside him, and it wasn’t something he experienced nearly often enough. You can only really explain away so much time with your niece as family bonding. And that brought a new sense to the phrase, really.
“I’ve missed you, you know,” Peter declared, lazily dragging his hand across Claire’s stomach in the afterglow.
“I’ve missed you, too,” Claire said softly. She touched her new necklace - the only thing still on her body besides Peter’s scent. “When do you think I’ll see you next?” Her smile was soft, unlike so many of the smirks and grins Peter was used to.
“You never can tell with us. But we’ll figure something out.”
“I could always accidentally get found out and make the family move again. Casually suggest somewhere close to here,” she grinned.
“Stop teasing me. You’ll get my hopes up,” he grabbed at his heart dramatically.
Claire’s mouth formed into a smirk. “That’s not the only thing I want up.”
Peter’s jaw dropped open momentarily, not expecting the quip. He grinned. “So Claire,” he began, “You have any plans for New Years?”
She grinned and straddled his hips in response.
fin.
------
Please comment. I kind of live for reviews and the like. :] Have a happy holidays, everyone!
Author: modernxxmyth
Fandom: Heroes
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Claire, Nathan as a side character
Rating: R/NC-17 to be safe. I'd call it R, personally.
Word Count: 2,006
Summary: It's Christmas time, and Claire's spending the holidays with her family. Her biological family. Set about a year, maybe a years and a half after Season 2. Pre-established relationship. Lusty, fun, sultry, secretive, hints of angst, plenty of fluff, a bit sarcastic. Have fun.
Author's Notes: My deat friend Jane (phoenix39) requested this of me, and I did my best to comply. Happy hoidays, everyone! And have a very pairey christmas. [/awkward pun]
A Time for Family
It was the holiday season, and at the Petrelli household, the season showed. There was a huge tree in one of the living rooms, and presents surrounded it, stacked in enormous piles beneath it. The house was enormous, of course, but only three people were in it for the holidays. Three very interesting people. It was one of those family Christmas gatherings. Noah was gone (doing god knows what for that damn company), and Claire was spending some time with her other family.
She got him something casual, something meaningless. It had to be that way - meaningless and casual - they couldn’t know each other too well. He did the same, of course. A card (she was glad he didn’t sign it Uncle Peter. The words still left a bad taste in her mouth), a nice leather-bound book - he knew she’d be that type who read constantly, when alone, with her headphones in.
It was dinner, later, and Nathan was preparing the table while Peter and Claire slipped outside, “It’s stuffy…We need some fresh air.”
Doors closed and Peter’s body pinned Claire’s up against the wall. A kiss of desperation - a quick, gentle caress of tongues, soon to be lost in wild passion. Claire broke it off, a trace of a smirk on her lips, “Do you want your real present now?”
Peter raised his eyebrows suggestively, “Did you get me what I wanted?”
Claire swatted him playfully, “Shut-up, you.” She attempted a frown, but her eyes were grinning, that will come later tonight. (He heard her, of course.) She reached into her pocket and muttered an apology about the gift not being wrapped.
“Here,” she said, handing a rectangular, deep burgundy object to him.
Peter took it, and upon close examination, recognized it as a journal. It had a large, golden “P” emblazoned upon the front of it. He smiled wistfully. He’d told Claire about three months prior that writing things down was one of his only ways to cope, what with everything they’d been through. He opened it up, and flipped through the pages. They were lined in a muted shade of crimson (How fitting, he thought a bit morbidly, what with who it was coming from). He turned the journal over, and emblazoned upon it was a very small heart in the corner and a gold “C” right next to it.
Peter ran a hand through his hair and smiled. “Thank you.” He kissed her then, leaving the taste of a sigh on her lips. Moments later he pulled away. “My turn,” he grinned. He pulled a small box out of his pocket and handed it to Claire.
The box was a velvety blue, and Claire opened it quickly. Inside was a white-gold chain with a decorated heart hanging from it. Inside the design of the heart was a “C.”
“It’s lovely,” she said with a smile, and kissed him chastely. “But what is it with us and initials this year?” They grin identically.
Inside later, “Claire,” Nathan spoke with confusion, “were you wearing that necklace earlier?”
She bit the inside of her cheek from grinning. Would she have to lie to all of her fathers? “Yes, of course,” was her reply.
Nathan frowned and shrugged. “I guess I didn’t notice. It’s nice. Where’d you get it?”
She searched for an excuse. Nothing else with family, please, she told herself. “Ex-boyfriend.”
Nathan raised an eyebrow, silently asking her to elaborate.
“Uh…when I was leaving California. It was a …goodbye present. ” She raked her mind for a distracter. “He could fly, too, you know.”
Peter held back a laugh from across the room. Claire and her flyers.
Bits and pieces of conversation continued until the dinner table, Nathan’s back turned on Peter and Claire’s continuous, subtle glances and smiles as he cooked (attempted) at the stove.
Nathan finally said, a bit later, “Dinner is served.”
“Pass the bread?” she asked when seated at the table. It seemed routine, but dear god, they were trying.
After dinner, “Anyone want coffee?” Nathan asked. Everyone did, and when Nathan asked Claire how she liked hers, Peter had to try his absolute hardest not to automatically respond, “One cream and two sugars.”
The family of sorts enjoyed their coffee, making casual discussion about movies (“I can’t look at those Superman movies the same anymore”), music (Nathan asked Claire, “You’re not one of those teenagers who listens to that rap music, are you?), and television (“There’s simply no time, now-a-days,” was the unanimous reply).
Claire had a long break from school - everyone blows off their senior year anyway - so she stayed at their house. It’s such a mansion, she often thought. Her room was two left turns, one right turn, and twenty paces forward (she’s counted) from Peter’s room. Late that night, during those hours where the sun debated with the moon on who was leading in their twisted tango, Claire walked the map in her head to Peter’s room and opened the door quietly. He sat up sharply, palm out with blue electricity at the ready - his reflexes never changed after everything that they’d been through.
She closed the door behind her, and his stature relaxed. “Hey, you,” she greeted him with a grin.
“Hey yourself,” he smiled.
They had to be quiet she knew, but oh, it wouldn’t be easy. “Where’s Nathan’s room, again?” (She’ll never, ever call him Dad.)
“Downstairs and on the other side of the house,” he replied, wriggling his eyebrows.
She breathed out a sigh of relief, “That solves that problem, then.”
Claire crawled onto his bed - and, oh, how huge it was - and pressed her lips to his. She shifted her body to straddle his, her kisses getting wilder, needier. Claire pulled away after several minutes, breathing labored. She spoke, “So, I was thinking. Do you want your other Christmas present now?” Her eyes were mischievous.
Peter’s smile quirked to one side. “Oh yeah.” He kissed her again and moved his hands beneath Claire’s shirt, dragging his hands up and down the smoothness of her bare stomach. Moments later, he pulled the shirt off of her desperately. She quickly returned the favor, pulling his off, as well. Claire stood up for a moment, and quickly peeled off her pants.
Peter’s eyes widened, as she stood before him in matching bra and panties. They were predominantly a deep red, form-fitting to her curves perfectly, with hints of green lace. Claire spoke, voice a little huskier than normal, “Merry Christmas.”
Peter let out a breathy chuckle. “Merry Christmas, indeed.” He then grabbed her and pulled her down on to the bed, on top of him. He kissed her again, and his wandering hands fueled the fire of passion. Claire sat up and undid his pants, sliding them down to his ankles, and he kicked them off. As she crawled towards her previous position, Peter grabbed her and flipped her over so that she was beneath him. He pressed his body to hers, kissing her, his hardness felt easily against Claire’s thigh.
Claire moaned into his mouth and raked her nails lightly down Peter’s back. He smiled slightly at her response and swiftly undid the clasp of her bra, removing it from her. He kissed her again with fervor, as the pads of his thumbs lightly caressed her already erect nipples. Claire moaned again and her hands crept lower down his back. They snaked their way under the elastic waistband of his plaid boxers and cupped his ass. Peter shuddered slightly against her touch, and Claire’s hands slid to the front of him. She lightly dragged a finger down the length of his shaft, and he spoke in unstable breaths, “Exactly how fast do you want this to be over?”
Claire smiled and formed her whole hand around him, squeezing him lightly and dragging her hand down the length of him once more. Peter cried out. “Claire,” he gasped, half-warning, half-begging. Claire removed her hand deftly from his boxers and trailed it slowly up his torso, trailing it all the way to his head, where her hands made their way into his hair. She kissed him passionately, her tongue caressing his as he worked her silky panties off of her body. Claire shivered slightly as Peter caressed her lower-lips with his thumb. He parted the lips and trailed his finger upward, thumb finding her clit. He circled it once, slowly, and Claire cried out, bucking her hips against his hand. “Peter…” she let out a breathy whisper. “Mhm...Peter…”
“What do you want, Claire?” he asked. “What do you want?”
Claire looked at him, eyes dark with lust and need. “You know what I want, Peter.”
Peter smiled inwardly. “Tell me.”
Claire cried out in frustration as his thumb pressed lightly against her entrance, the pressure there teasing her. “I want…” she let out a gasp as his thumb circled her clit again. “I want you.”
That was all it took. Peter pulled away from Claire with a sigh of disappointment on her part, and he slipped out of his boxers quickly. He positioned himself at her entrance and caressed her cheek, gazing at her for a moment. It wasn’t their first time together - they’d gotten to know each other’s bodies intimately a few months ago - but every time felt new for them. It was a rarity that they were able to be together in such a way, and each occasion was as special for the pair.
With a quick kiss upon Claire’s lips, Peter thrust into her. He paused for a moment, allowing her body to adjust to his size. Then he began to move again inside her, and she quickly matched his rhythm. Peter created a pattern of thumbing her clit lazily every few thrusts, each time Claire moaning in pleasure. When Peter began to feel Claire’s walls tighten around him, he quickened his pace, both of them moving together in tandem. A combination of moans and sighs and groans and grunts filled the air of the room. Claire bit her lip and cried out, her body finally beginning to spasm against Peter. Her breath came in rapid gasps and moans, as her orgasm overtook her. “Peter,” she cried out. The sound of the his name coming from Claire’s lips was enough to take Peter over the edge, as he emptied himself into her with a grunt and a ragged “Claire…” that fell off his lips. He collapsed on top of her for just a moment, until he regained the strength to roll of her, pulling her into his arms beside him.
Claire let out a contented sigh and turned towards Peter, still in his arms, a hazy smile crossing her lips. She gently caressed his chest, trailing an idle hand across him and kissing him chastely on the lips. He responded in kind.
Peter always liked the feel of Claire beside him, and it wasn’t something he experienced nearly often enough. You can only really explain away so much time with your niece as family bonding. And that brought a new sense to the phrase, really.
“I’ve missed you, you know,” Peter declared, lazily dragging his hand across Claire’s stomach in the afterglow.
“I’ve missed you, too,” Claire said softly. She touched her new necklace - the only thing still on her body besides Peter’s scent. “When do you think I’ll see you next?” Her smile was soft, unlike so many of the smirks and grins Peter was used to.
“You never can tell with us. But we’ll figure something out.”
“I could always accidentally get found out and make the family move again. Casually suggest somewhere close to here,” she grinned.
“Stop teasing me. You’ll get my hopes up,” he grabbed at his heart dramatically.
Claire’s mouth formed into a smirk. “That’s not the only thing I want up.”
Peter’s jaw dropped open momentarily, not expecting the quip. He grinned. “So Claire,” he began, “You have any plans for New Years?”
She grinned and straddled his hips in response.
fin.
------
Please comment. I kind of live for reviews and the like. :] Have a happy holidays, everyone!