Heroes: Breaking Point (Claude/Peter | T | 220w)
[ Claude/Peter | T | 220w | 2007-09-23 ]
Peter’s wanted a lot from Claude. (Written for vocabulary soup #06: tensile.)
Breaking Point
Tension tight, tension curling, harsh, wrong, this can’t be good-
Peter doesn’t know how what started as a shove on the shoulder has turned into this, why he’s suddenly able to use his telekinesis to rip through Claude’s thin shirt, or what’s happening where their mouths have clashed together. It’s teeth, hard, pushing, pressing, fighting-
They’re always fighting, whether it’s verbally or otherwise. This isn’t so different, knuckles scraping, fists digging into the crook between neck and shoulder, hips jerking, backs banging against the brick and exposed wood and loose dust rising underfoot. It’s building at the base of his spine, in the pit of his stomach, this want, wanting, wanting Claude-
He’s wanted a lot from Claude: respect, advice, direction, approval. Trust. There were moments, brief and few in between, where he’d think that maybe underneath the off-shoots of want was a stem, a root, a core to it, but this-this isn’t who he thought they were, not like this. But it’s hot, coils of molten metal, burning, demanding, tight tension, tension curling-
Sweet tensile heat, yes, this, now, all of it, give it up, boy, and it snaps, they snap, break apart into one another, Jesus, Claude, and for once, it isn’t a struggle between them, it isn’t a battle: it’s a mutual understanding, a mutual surrender.
Peter’s wanted a lot from Claude. (Written for vocabulary soup #06: tensile.)
Breaking Point
Tension tight, tension curling, harsh, wrong, this can’t be good-
Peter doesn’t know how what started as a shove on the shoulder has turned into this, why he’s suddenly able to use his telekinesis to rip through Claude’s thin shirt, or what’s happening where their mouths have clashed together. It’s teeth, hard, pushing, pressing, fighting-
They’re always fighting, whether it’s verbally or otherwise. This isn’t so different, knuckles scraping, fists digging into the crook between neck and shoulder, hips jerking, backs banging against the brick and exposed wood and loose dust rising underfoot. It’s building at the base of his spine, in the pit of his stomach, this want, wanting, wanting Claude-
He’s wanted a lot from Claude: respect, advice, direction, approval. Trust. There were moments, brief and few in between, where he’d think that maybe underneath the off-shoots of want was a stem, a root, a core to it, but this-this isn’t who he thought they were, not like this. But it’s hot, coils of molten metal, burning, demanding, tight tension, tension curling-
Sweet tensile heat, yes, this, now, all of it, give it up, boy, and it snaps, they snap, break apart into one another, Jesus, Claude, and for once, it isn’t a struggle between them, it isn’t a battle: it’s a mutual understanding, a mutual surrender.