commentary: wanted pt 1
fic commentary on wanted (nathan/claire, peter/claire, sorta peter/nathan)
requested by andbless_mybaby
originally written 9/5/07
Title: Wanted not to be confused with the excellent film!
Author: missaliceblue
Pairing: Peter/Claire. Nathan/Claire. Brief mentions of Nathan/Peter.
Rating: NC-17 for language, sex, incest, themes, but this story is character driven, not a strictly smut piece. Canon.
Status: Completed one-shot. 10,500 words.
Summary: Nathan would never let Peter play with his toys without asking. my first nathan/claire fic!
a manipulated image, took coleman out.
For the first year Nathan treated her exactly like his boys. He smiled indulgently when she walked into the house with an armful of shopping bags. He patted her head before bed if he remembered and once he scooped ice cream into a bowl for her after dinner along with the rest of them.
Her life is gone. Every piece of it was smashed to the ground, broken and useless in a way she'll never be. She accepts that.
She picks up whatever pieces of it she can find and glues it together with them - Her new family.
They bind her broken pieces together and it fits and they fit.
They're her life now, so none of this surprised her in the least.
For the first year Nathan treated her exactly like the boys. All that changed the day he walked in on her and Peter. this last line popped into my brain one night at about 2 am...it didnt let me go for about a week.
-----
She'd be lying if she said she didn't want her uncle. It was a want that quickly turned to lust and these days it was bordering on something more like love but she refused to let her brain go there if she could help it.
He had brown eyes and funny eyebrows and she adored that he tried to take care of her in his own little way. It was so nice to be taken care of.
Peter took her out, everywhere. Showed her his favorite parts of the city. Bought her gelato in the Park and she nodded her way through the Met under his tutelage.
He pretended that it wasn't there, and she let him. For a little while. And then she didn't let him pretend anymore. i definitely think that claire was the aggressor in this. as i see it, peter wanted to be with her, but guilt wouldnt let him.
-----
She never used the 'I' word. It just seemed too harsh to describe something that was slow and quiet. Peter wasn't happy about it, and it wasn't like Claire had a ton of experience in the area, but his enormous hard-on had pretty much told her what she needed to know. That he felt the same way about her even if he was pretending he didn't.
"Be reasonable," he said in his best I'm-a-Grownup voice.
“No.”
"This is really wrong, Claire," he said after the first time they kissed, and she could feel the struggle in his fingertips.
She made a face and ignored the last comment. as you can see, here i am beginning to come out of my terrible paragraph addiction. its still bad but you can see here that i am getting better.
He looked down at the ground for a very, very long time with his brows knitted together. And then he lifted his head and kissed her again.
-----
She missed her Dad. Her real Dad. But he was in California now and it was safer for her to be here. They talked on the phone twice a week and Claire only relayed the nice parts of her life. No need to make anyone worry needlessly.
Nathan asked her once if she was enjoying New York. Was it as nice as Odessa?
Claire was startled at the conversation because Nathan almost never made small talk, but she answered kindly and politely, because that's the kind of girl she was. claire is southern. she knows her manners.
-----
It's not love, it's lust, she told Peter after. They can't help something their bodies are doing.
He nodded like he was agreeing, but then he said, "He's smart, Claire. You have no idea. He'll know." i love nathan. i love nathan more than i love peter. yes, i said it.
"Who?"
He said it like it was obvious. "Nathan".
She rolled her eyes. "How? How could he know?"
"He will."
"We can fake it. And anyway, he'll hide it if he finds out," said Claire. "He won't want anyone to know."
Peter spoke angrily. "I don't want him to know."
She shrugged. "He won't. What could he do if he did know? What's the worst that could happen?"
Peter chuckled but it wasn't nice or funny. "You don't get it." peter is afraid of his brother, terribly afraid.
-----
Maybe she didn't get 'it'. But she certainly got Peter. It didn't take too much cajoling. The burning feeling - the one that had been aching through her body since the day they met - wasn’t too hard to ignite fully. Either in her or in him, though of course he'd never admit it.
He didn't have to admit it.
She felt bad even thinking it, but she knew the sex part with him was a little messed up.
He balanced on his elbows, barely letting his body touch hers. He shimmied down his pants just enough to pull his cock out and he never, ever took off her shirt. She'd still never seen him naked. this is probably the smuttiest story ive ever written. i usually never use nasty words like cock, but it was necessary for this one. its nice to write a story, though, that has a purpose to the porn.
It was half-assed sex. Sex without touching or teasing or tasting. She wanted to enjoy it. Wanted to feel his skin up against hers, but he wouldn't really even touch her.
She tried not to, honestly she did, but finally one afternoon she quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why do we have to do it like this?"
He rubbed his hand over his face. "We shouldn't be doing it at all."
She shrugged.
"Seriously, Claire."
"Why are you so afraid that someone will find out?" she asked. She didn't use Nathan's name because she didn't have to.
"You have no idea."
Sometimes she wondered about Peter and Nathan. They seemed close. They spent time together and they talked and laughed together. But Peter had nearly gone ballistic when she came to live with Nathan, told her that she'd be better off someplace else. That Nathan's home wasn't a 'good environment' for her.
"I don't get why we can't do it for real," said Claire.
"Let's stop then."
"No," she said, and folded her arms.
He told her then that she was goddamn stubborn and that he didn't have to love the fact that he was weak and wrong. ughhh, peter = pussy. i hate it.
-----
Heidi didn’t treat her bad but it certainly wasn’t good either. However, she always took Claire with when she got a mani and a pedi, mostly so she’d have someone who could speak English with her.
Claire prided herself on retaining her middle-class roots, but this small indulgence was something that she came to truly enjoy.
Saturday mornings usually meant that Claire was alone. Everyone had somewhere to be. The family was pulled in twenty different directions, excepting her. She could sleep in if she felt like it and she did.
Which is why she was surprised when she ran into Nathan early that afternoon on the landing of the stairs. She blushed because she was lazy in her short robe, hair tousled and barefoot.
He acted like it was no big deal. And then he complimented her tiny, cherry-red toenails. on the surface? nothing wrong. under the surface? soooo much wrong.
-----
The sex part was still messed up, getting more messed up. After the second or third time Peter stopped kissing her during, and Claire sure as hell wasn't going to beg him to. She had pride.
After the sex part was even worse.
Peter's body had no problem fucking his niece, it seemed. Claire seemed to be doing it on a daily basis with Peter's body. Peter's body still came over to Nathan' place to 'visit', though she'd have to all but throw him into her room to get him alone.
Peter's body liked to move slowly and when he came he never made a sound, never let her make a sound either. She grew used to not being able to hear her own orgasm, used to the feeling of his fingers pressed against her lips, even when they were completely alone.
Peter's mind was what stopped his body from making it really good. And it could have been really good, she thought.
"I'm not going to break, okay?" she said impatiently one night.
He looked at her, a little startled. "What do you mean?"
"You touch me like you think you'll hurt me."
Peter stared at her. She hated it when he didn't give her anything back.
She lost her temper a little. "Why does it have to be so weird? Why can't we just do it normal?"
"Is it normal to have sex with your uncle? Is it, Claire? You tell me." He rolled off of her and left her room, leaving her burning in places she didn't know existed.
But he was back the next night all the same.
He used an economy of movement when they did it, gently rocking into her. She came with his hand over her mouth and it felt nice but it was lacking. The technique was good enough, but he always held back, no matter what she did.
-----
She was already snuggled in bed one night, when Nathan knocked and stuck his head into her room.
"You awake?"
Claire sat up, and tossed her hair over her shoulder. She yawned. "Sure."
"Sorry. Would you mind watching the boys tomorrow night? It's a thing...just drinks, but I've got to take Heidi, and the nanny's off."
"Not a problem," said Claire, even though it was a minor inconvenience.
He told her thanks and to go back to sleep, so she did, but it was awhile before she heard the door shut. inappropriate dog!
-----
Claire thought the situation was all pretty much...tolerable. And holding. She thought it was tolerable until she finally figured out the distinction between Peter's body and Peter himself. One of these clearly wanted and needed her. The other did not, and it was only getting worse.
The realization left her scared and shaking, but she didn't push him away that night. Or the next. Or the next.
After he'd finish, he'd roll off of her and rub his hands harshly over his forehead.
Claire would sigh and start to gather her clothes. This was always the worst part. She was a captive audience, and he was just getting started about how bad this was, how it could never happen again, and that this time he meant it.
Peter used the "I" word without compunction.
-----
Nathan asked her why she'd stayed in for the last couple Friday nights. It still surprised her when he showed interest in her day. Or, any interest for that matter.
"Where's that blond kid that was hanging around here so much?"
He was cutting up his food - a reheated plate from the fridge, since he had been at a late meeting. He and Claire stood at the island in the kitchen.
Claire knew the meat was tough but Nathan didn't saw at it, somehow he cut the thin slivers gracefully...with a surgeon's precision. nathan doesnt do anything messy. seriously. i think the key to his character is control. he loves having it. of course, i love to write claire making him lose it, too.
"Casey?" Claire hadn't thought of her uninteresting yet persistent school friend in some time. She leaned on the counter and sighed, her dramatic pause carefully calculated. "He sucks. Boys suck. I'm done."
Nathan gave her a wry little edging smile. "Sure. You say that now."
-----
Late one night she watched some French film on Cinemax. It had a lot of sex and heaving bosoms and Claire got so hot and bothered that she snuck out of bed and took a cab over to Peter's apartment. dunno which. sounded good though, eh?
At first he didn't want to let her in, told her to go home for god's sake, it was past midnight.
But she didn't. She pressed her face against the crack in the door until he opened it, and then she pressed herself against Peter until he finally groaned. He pulled her over to the couch and he'd just found the right angle, the one that made her pinch her eyes together, when Peter's door opened.
Later she tried not to think about what it must've looked like - her legs spread, her breasts bouncing under her shirt as Peter thrust into her gently. And quietly, of course. That's the only way he ever did it.
The door slammed open and then Nathan was there, in his pajamas with a long coat over. His hair was messy and he was wearing the slippers she'd given him for Father's Day last year.
She wasn't naked (of course not, never), but there were parts of her that were definitely exposed. Peter gathered her up to him protectively, covered her body with his own. She didn't remember until later that her first instinct had been to push him away.
She hid her face with her hands and waited for the screaming to start.
And then...no one said anything - god, why had no one said anything? She lowered her hands and saw that neither one of them were even looking at her. Peter just stared at Nathan, until Nathan flung the door shut behind him. it seems that nathan would go either way - silent treatment or apeshit.
Peter did the blinking space-travel thing before she even knew it - his hand curled around hers, and then they were in her room at Nathan's. She plunked herself onto her bed and tried not to cry when Peter started to speak in a low whisper. He told her that this was her fault, that he hadn't wanted to do this tonight in the first place. Her fault, her fault, he practically snarled. very baby of peter to do this...but i think thats how he might be with nathan.
Nathan knew now and they were both screwed.
-----
She waited for an ugly blow up, a confrontation, something. But Nathan seemed normal as he buttered his toast the next morning, and Claire more than ever admired his acting ability.
"Claire, what's your schedule like today?" Nathan asked her in front of Heidi and the boys.
Claire smiled her very prettiest and said she wasn't doing a thing.
He took her to Sarabeth's for lunch, and she couldn't even choke down the pancakes (her favorite thing to eat in the whole damn City). How could she eat when she was waiting the whole time for the other shoe to drop?
Nathan ate cold salmon that he cut into thin slivers and he spoke easily. mm i heart salmon.
"This is nice. I think it'd be a good idea if we spent more time together," said Nathan. lol.
"Sounds good," she said, trying her best to keep her voice steady.
Then someone called his cell phone (that happened all the time), and he talked on it while she mushed her pancake into a mess that she couldn't bring herself to swallow. He took her back home after and the shoe never dropped.
-----
Peter wouldn't even look at her. eowyn_girl proofed this for me, and she got on me about the little ----- break things. yes, they are lazy. she was right. but without them, a lot og my fics would be like 10 chapters long, and i dont have the patience.
-----
She went to school and out with friends and went to Nathan's rah-rah rallies where she stood next to Peter because that's where the event coordinator told her to stand. But Peter was careful not to let his shoulder brush up against hers, even though it had been almost a whole month since it happened.
Peter wasn't speaking to her, not that she'd tried. She had pride, remember? If he didn't want her, then fine. Fine. It was only about lust in the first place, right?
Besides, there were other people that were interested. She went out with Casey, the nice boy from her school. Casey came over for dinner, and he was charming to her whole family. Nathan was especially great, chatty and easygoing. His best politician act.
He teased Casey gently, asking if he thought he was good enough for 'my little Claire'. Peter never would have done that, been that way toward a boy who liked her. nathan is being sarcastic here. love it.
In either case, it was all a pointless exercise. Casey's sloppy kisses didn't do much for her, didn't come close to quelling that burning feeling inside her that never seemed to go away, these days.
-----
She finally had someone to talk to in New York who wasn't Peter.
She'd long thought that Nathan was completely uninterested, had always seemed to see her as a charming house guest that was easily lumped into the same category as Monty and Simon. He had treated her nothing like a father or even a friend.
But that changed. He was interested in her life and her hobbies now. He wanted to know - really wanted to know her thoughts.
At least that's what he said. She hated that she couldn't read him. She felt silly yammering on sometimes, and he'd just sit there in his leather chair at his office desk, his hand held softly to his jaw. Was he really interested? Did he actually care? Or was that faint smile, the somewhat distant yet attentive expression just a cover for his boredom? She had no clue. i dont have an answer for this. im not entirely sure.
She could read Peter like a book. His brother is a goddamn enigma.
-----
Family dinners had become an exercise in frustration, but Peter kept coming so she refused to back down and say she was sick or something. She wasn't going to be the one that pussed out. That was his job.
And so it was another meal where she was ignored by the person next to her. Heidi thought she and Peter were mad at each other, and tried to get them to talk at dinner. Was forever seating them by one another and reminding them of funny stories that they used to tell in tandem.
Claire smiled tightly. Peter pushed the food around on his plate.
Claire saw Nathan gesture subtly to his wife, and she eased off.
-----
Peter still wouldn't look at her.
-----
It had been over two months, and still no confrontation.
At first she thought that Nathan was spending time with her for bonding purposes. Spend time with the misguided daughter, help her to not be such an incestuous freak. Claire had her reply all thought out for when Nathan finally did confront her about it. Because surely he would confront her one day. Here's what she would say: They stopped after that night. It hadn't meant anything anyway. It wasn't going to happen again.
Two of those were true, at least. this came off somewhat obtuse, it should have been clearer. they stopped, and it wasnt going to happen again.
Nathan took her out on the weekends, and bought her stuff like jewelry and clothes when he was out of town. It was a little odd but she didn't complain. Most of the girls at her school had nice stuff like this. Maybe Nathan just wanted her to have it too. Maybe he felt guilty about the Peter thing (even though it was so, so over). Maybe there was another reason? this is how nathan woos women i think.
She still couldn't read him.
She watched Girl, Interrupted on HBO one night and on it there was a girl who had sex with her father and it made her think about Nathan that way. For the first time.
Nathan. "and we all know that he fucks you. but what i know and they dont is that you like it."
-----
She hadn't been home from school very long at all that day when she walked slowly up to her room, her toes pinching in her new shoes. Impossibly high heels that Nathan bought for her last week.
When she opened the door to her room, the first thing she saw was Peter sitting on her bed. She tried not to gasp.
"I have something to say to you."
She folded her arms and looked at him. "I didn't know you were speaking to me."
"I will if I have something to say."
She made a face.
"Listen. Nathan knows. That changes everything. Do you understand?"
"Do you?" she asked.
Peter's face got very dark...very angry.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said prissily before he could yell, and she turned to leave.
And then Peter shot up from the bed, grabbed her arm roughly. "Do you have any idea what you're playing around with? You don’t know him. The real one. You can’t handle him. Trust me.” i do think she knows how to handle him. in her own way. claires not weak.
She jerked her arm out of his grasp and told him that he didn't get to be the hero who saves people anymore, and her heels clicked as she stalked out of the room.
-----
She had never thought about or even considered that her father (Nathan) was just as dirty-bad-wrong as her and Peter. She had thought all of his gifts and compliments and attention was a nice fatherly thing.
Ha.
She finally figured it out (finally - god, she had been dense) the afternoon when Nathan pulled her out of school. He said they were going to the Mandarin Oriental, which was cool because it was a beautiful hotel and she'd always wanted to see it. ive always wanted to stay at the mandarin. someday.
But instead of turning into the restaurant, they went in the lobby. They went up the service elevator (she still hadn't figured it out at that point) and the suite they were in had food on the table already. A private lunch, she thought, and she was pretty sure that this was where the confrontation was going to happen. It had been months and maybe that's just how long it took for Nathan to be ready to talk about it.
They were in the Taipan Suite, shades of red and silver and gold reflecting off of the glass that surrounded it. She could see the Hudson River and the Park and when she turned around to point out the conservatory to him, he had already shaken out of his suit coat and was halfway done unbuttoning his shirt.
"What are you doing?" Her voice was calm, because she wasn't worried. Still hadn't figured it out.
"I'm taking off my shirt," said Nathan perfunctorily, as he unclasped his cuff links. yow!
"Why?"
"Because that's what you do, Claire." He said it like she should have known that already.
She figured it out. Claire's mouth fell open. i wasnt sure that this abrupt shift would work...but i think it did ok.
He dropped his cuff links - platinum and obsidian - onto the bed. They fell with a soft ping onto the shiny surface of the comforter.
And then he walked around the bed. To her.
As he tipped her head back and held her firmly against his body, she thought a little bit (and then she couldn't think anymore). But while she could, she thought about how Nathan was worlds different than his little brother. Nathan didn't ask. He took.
And then he did it so well that she didn't mind the taking.
-----
It was Mrs. Petrelli's birthday. Grandmother. She never called her that, though.
They had had a dinner at Chanterelle. Claire worried her way through the meal, her mind on the small box that held a pair of citrine earrings that she'd bought for Mrs. Petrelli. Well, Nathan had bought them. Helped her pick them out too.
Claire's mind was a million miles away when Peter spoke to her.
"Just like him," he muttered quietly from her right side.
"Excuse me?"
"You cut your food just like him," said Peter distastefully, as he pushed his chair away from the table. She froze.
Claire didn't look up when Peter gave his excuses the rest of the table. Her eyes were glued to her plate, where thin little slivers of filet mignon laid.
-----
Nathan had a bigger package, and there was probably no way that Peter didn't know that. Was that the problem? haha. oh.
Because she didn't think there was any way Peter could possibly know that Nathan was incredible in bed. A whole lot better than Peter. Really. She realised that while laying spent and spread-legged on the bed where Nathan (her father) had just fucked the hell out of her for the fourth time this week. yes, nathan is better at sex. i dont doubt it for a second.
Of course, knowing what she did now, she didn't rule out the possibility of Nathan and Peter...you know. It seemed to be a genetic trait that none of them could avoid.
Nathan kissed her almost...painfully. It was fierce and certain and she loved it, loved the way he turned her head and pulled her hips against his.
He frenched her until she couldn't breathe, holding on for dear life with her fists wrapped in his thick dress shirt.
Nathan asked her to fellate him and she did, even though that was something she found pretty gross usually. Not with him. Not with him.
He lifted her easily and set her down onto his cock in a maddeningly slow fashion. He laced his fingers around the back of his neck, and thrust his hips up with practiced rhythm. She did most of the work but she wanted to with him.
She pressed her hands onto his chest, her hair falling over her shoulders. She was totally naked with Nathan and it didn't feel weird at all. He guided her movements with his hand on her hip. He'd pull her down with force when he wanted it hard and fast, push her up and out slowly when he wanted her to cool it.
She felt a little like a racehorse sometimes but the man delivered and she thought it best not to question the technique by which it occurred.
And another thing. He could go all night. He'd pull out of her occasionally, wave her hand away if he hadn't had enough time. And then he'd be ready to go again, until he took mercy on her raw, aching pussy and finally came.
She loved it. Every second of it. It felt fabulous and no one was worried and whining.
-----
At home, Nathan treated her the same as ever. He still patted her head before bed and he fawned over Heidi as always, though there was a new little jolt of something like surprise when he kissed her in front of Claire. She didn't say anything though. Of course not.
But sometimes his looks were longer, and she swore that tonight he had all but fucked her with his eyes when she came down the staircase in her short, black party dress. A cousin she had never met was getting married. She wanted to look nice. She wanted them both to see her looking nice. shes playing them off each other. i dont think she was meaning to though.
Nathan told her she looked very fetching and escorted her to the limo like it was no big deal. But when he helped her into her seat at the reception his fingers pressed just a little too hard around her wrist, and she had to fight the urge to look at him.
So she looked at Peter. He was sitting across from her, and his face was dark and brooding. His eyes were on the centerpiece, a vase of gold and lilies.
Whatever.
The bride was smiling with shining teeth and so was Claire because her body felt warm and a little bit naughty all the time now.
When Peter finally looked at her all she saw was hurt and rage that was barely below the surface. He knew about her and Nathan. He had to.
She pursed her lips in a way that she hoped told him that this was his fault, his fault. shes pissed at him. cant blame her.
-----
They were in the Taipan Suite again. Nathan told her it was a matter of logistics that they only meet in the hotel. Fine with her. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, in just her underpants, her hands holding her knees to her chest.
He was stretched out next to her, the sheet tossed casually over him. He had very tan thighs, dark hair that curled over them. She tried not to stare but she probably could have all day.
It was very quiet. Peaceful. Nathan didn't like television, hated the distraction of the radio or any other noise he deemed unnecessary. So they were just sitting there. It wasn't bad or anything. She'd learned to like the silence in the time she'd spent with him.
In a minute they were going to have to get up. She had to get back to school and he had...who knows. A million things to do. The phrase 'stolen moments' always seemed so wistful and star-crossy to her before, but these moments with Nathan truly were stolen. He was beyond busy. She loved that he carved this time out for her. nathans time is the most preious thing he has, i think that claire liked that much better than any clothes.
"Why?" she asked.
Nathan took a drag on his cigarette and tapped it into the ashtray on the side of the bed. He smoked in private. She was probably more surprised by that than anything. i love the idea of nathan hiding his smoking. i do think its a private indulgence.
"Why what?" said Nathan coolly.
"Why this?" She gestured to herself, then the bed.
He smiled tightly. That was his real smile. Not the wide grin that he put on for the cameras. In this bed she thought she’d met the real Nathan, and he was still an enigma, but becoming less of one.
"Have you ever looked in a mirror?" he asked.
She blushed, and he chuckled softly. For a minute she was satisfied with the answer, flattered into forgetting her real question. But she pressed on when the glow of his compliment had faded a bit.
"There's plenty of pretty girls you could've had. Seriously. Why me?" She turned to look at him.
“It’s what I do.”
“Fuck people?” She was trying to be mature and mouthy, but he just looked at her distastefully. swearing doesnt become her.
“No. I give people what they want,” said Nathan.
Her mouth dropped open. “You think I wanted this? That I planned this?”
“Not exactly.”
“What do you mean then?” she asked.
“I give people what they want…even if they don’t know they want it. It’s what all effective politicians do.”
She nodded. “Peter said once that you know things. He made it sound like you read minds or something.”
Nathan exhaled through his nostrils, faint trails of smoke drifting down his chest. “He’d know all about that, wouldn’t he?”
She hated to ask a million questions, because Nathan didn’t like it when she chattered on, but she had to. “What do you mean?” claire. THEY USED TO FUCK.
He sighed almost imperceptibly and stubbed his cigarette into the ashtray. "I don't expect you to understand mine and Peter's relationship. It's complicated. Mostly because I am who I am. Partly because I'm so much older. So I'm going to tell you this, and I don't want you to ask me about it. Just think about it."
"Okay," she said, and she prepared herself mentally for some nasty secret, some horrific event that was going to drive her crazy.
Nathan put his feet on the floor and started to pull his slacks on. "I give people what they want, like I said. Whether that’s in my profession or at home or here with you. I give generously, but I would never let anyone take something from me.”
He tied knots into his shoes with force. “Especially Peter."
She waited for more, and when it didn't come, she felt her lip curl. "That's why?"
He nodded, once.
"That's so...childish."
He nodded again. "Seems that way, doesn't it?"
Claire sat there for a minute, just feeling herself getting more and more angry. "I don't belong to you, you know. I don't belong to anyone."
"I didn't say you did."
"Well I don't," Claire retorted.
"Okay. Christ. Don't shout," said Nathan and looked at her disapprovingly. He had a way of making her feel really immature, sometimes.
"Peter didn't take me anywhere. I'm here 'cause I want to be," said Claire.
"Like I said, I don't expect you to understand. That's just Peter and I. It's been that way forever." Nathan spoke in a way that brooked no arguments.
She looked at him dubiously for a long moment, and then she felt herself relax. "Fine."
"Good." He shifted his knee onto the bed and gave her that vague smile. He patted her leg, and pulled her over the tangle of sheets to kiss her deeply. Tongue first. There wasn't much closed-mouth kissing with Nathan. i really think that nathan isnt entirely sure how he feels toward claire.
He kissed her slowly; only because they'd just finished a couple minutes ago and they both had to get going. That didn't stop him from cupping her breasts, rubbing his large, rough thumbs over her swollen nipples.
He ended the kiss, and it felt abrupt but it really wasn't. He stood up, and rolled his undershirt over his chest. Claire watched openly...he had a nice body. For someone his age especially. pasdar is brutally hot.
It was funny - the "I" word barely registered when it came to Nathan, even though, technically, he was her father and it was worse. She never thought of it around him.
It didn't seem to bother Nathan. Not like it had bothered Peter.
MORE NEXT POST!
requested by andbless_mybaby
originally written 9/5/07
Title: Wanted not to be confused with the excellent film!
Author: missaliceblue
Pairing: Peter/Claire. Nathan/Claire. Brief mentions of Nathan/Peter.
Rating: NC-17 for language, sex, incest, themes, but this story is character driven, not a strictly smut piece. Canon.
Status: Completed one-shot. 10,500 words.
Summary: Nathan would never let Peter play with his toys without asking. my first nathan/claire fic!
a manipulated image, took coleman out.
For the first year Nathan treated her exactly like his boys. He smiled indulgently when she walked into the house with an armful of shopping bags. He patted her head before bed if he remembered and once he scooped ice cream into a bowl for her after dinner along with the rest of them.
Her life is gone. Every piece of it was smashed to the ground, broken and useless in a way she'll never be. She accepts that.
She picks up whatever pieces of it she can find and glues it together with them - Her new family.
They bind her broken pieces together and it fits and they fit.
They're her life now, so none of this surprised her in the least.
For the first year Nathan treated her exactly like the boys. All that changed the day he walked in on her and Peter. this last line popped into my brain one night at about 2 am...it didnt let me go for about a week.
-----
She'd be lying if she said she didn't want her uncle. It was a want that quickly turned to lust and these days it was bordering on something more like love but she refused to let her brain go there if she could help it.
He had brown eyes and funny eyebrows and she adored that he tried to take care of her in his own little way. It was so nice to be taken care of.
Peter took her out, everywhere. Showed her his favorite parts of the city. Bought her gelato in the Park and she nodded her way through the Met under his tutelage.
He pretended that it wasn't there, and she let him. For a little while. And then she didn't let him pretend anymore. i definitely think that claire was the aggressor in this. as i see it, peter wanted to be with her, but guilt wouldnt let him.
-----
She never used the 'I' word. It just seemed too harsh to describe something that was slow and quiet. Peter wasn't happy about it, and it wasn't like Claire had a ton of experience in the area, but his enormous hard-on had pretty much told her what she needed to know. That he felt the same way about her even if he was pretending he didn't.
"Be reasonable," he said in his best I'm-a-Grownup voice.
“No.”
"This is really wrong, Claire," he said after the first time they kissed, and she could feel the struggle in his fingertips.
She made a face and ignored the last comment. as you can see, here i am beginning to come out of my terrible paragraph addiction. its still bad but you can see here that i am getting better.
He looked down at the ground for a very, very long time with his brows knitted together. And then he lifted his head and kissed her again.
-----
She missed her Dad. Her real Dad. But he was in California now and it was safer for her to be here. They talked on the phone twice a week and Claire only relayed the nice parts of her life. No need to make anyone worry needlessly.
Nathan asked her once if she was enjoying New York. Was it as nice as Odessa?
Claire was startled at the conversation because Nathan almost never made small talk, but she answered kindly and politely, because that's the kind of girl she was. claire is southern. she knows her manners.
-----
It's not love, it's lust, she told Peter after. They can't help something their bodies are doing.
He nodded like he was agreeing, but then he said, "He's smart, Claire. You have no idea. He'll know." i love nathan. i love nathan more than i love peter. yes, i said it.
"Who?"
He said it like it was obvious. "Nathan".
She rolled her eyes. "How? How could he know?"
"He will."
"We can fake it. And anyway, he'll hide it if he finds out," said Claire. "He won't want anyone to know."
Peter spoke angrily. "I don't want him to know."
She shrugged. "He won't. What could he do if he did know? What's the worst that could happen?"
Peter chuckled but it wasn't nice or funny. "You don't get it." peter is afraid of his brother, terribly afraid.
-----
Maybe she didn't get 'it'. But she certainly got Peter. It didn't take too much cajoling. The burning feeling - the one that had been aching through her body since the day they met - wasn’t too hard to ignite fully. Either in her or in him, though of course he'd never admit it.
He didn't have to admit it.
She felt bad even thinking it, but she knew the sex part with him was a little messed up.
He balanced on his elbows, barely letting his body touch hers. He shimmied down his pants just enough to pull his cock out and he never, ever took off her shirt. She'd still never seen him naked. this is probably the smuttiest story ive ever written. i usually never use nasty words like cock, but it was necessary for this one. its nice to write a story, though, that has a purpose to the porn.
It was half-assed sex. Sex without touching or teasing or tasting. She wanted to enjoy it. Wanted to feel his skin up against hers, but he wouldn't really even touch her.
She tried not to, honestly she did, but finally one afternoon she quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why do we have to do it like this?"
He rubbed his hand over his face. "We shouldn't be doing it at all."
She shrugged.
"Seriously, Claire."
"Why are you so afraid that someone will find out?" she asked. She didn't use Nathan's name because she didn't have to.
"You have no idea."
Sometimes she wondered about Peter and Nathan. They seemed close. They spent time together and they talked and laughed together. But Peter had nearly gone ballistic when she came to live with Nathan, told her that she'd be better off someplace else. That Nathan's home wasn't a 'good environment' for her.
"I don't get why we can't do it for real," said Claire.
"Let's stop then."
"No," she said, and folded her arms.
He told her then that she was goddamn stubborn and that he didn't have to love the fact that he was weak and wrong. ughhh, peter = pussy. i hate it.
-----
Heidi didn’t treat her bad but it certainly wasn’t good either. However, she always took Claire with when she got a mani and a pedi, mostly so she’d have someone who could speak English with her.
Claire prided herself on retaining her middle-class roots, but this small indulgence was something that she came to truly enjoy.
Saturday mornings usually meant that Claire was alone. Everyone had somewhere to be. The family was pulled in twenty different directions, excepting her. She could sleep in if she felt like it and she did.
Which is why she was surprised when she ran into Nathan early that afternoon on the landing of the stairs. She blushed because she was lazy in her short robe, hair tousled and barefoot.
He acted like it was no big deal. And then he complimented her tiny, cherry-red toenails. on the surface? nothing wrong. under the surface? soooo much wrong.
-----
The sex part was still messed up, getting more messed up. After the second or third time Peter stopped kissing her during, and Claire sure as hell wasn't going to beg him to. She had pride.
After the sex part was even worse.
Peter's body had no problem fucking his niece, it seemed. Claire seemed to be doing it on a daily basis with Peter's body. Peter's body still came over to Nathan' place to 'visit', though she'd have to all but throw him into her room to get him alone.
Peter's body liked to move slowly and when he came he never made a sound, never let her make a sound either. She grew used to not being able to hear her own orgasm, used to the feeling of his fingers pressed against her lips, even when they were completely alone.
Peter's mind was what stopped his body from making it really good. And it could have been really good, she thought.
"I'm not going to break, okay?" she said impatiently one night.
He looked at her, a little startled. "What do you mean?"
"You touch me like you think you'll hurt me."
Peter stared at her. She hated it when he didn't give her anything back.
She lost her temper a little. "Why does it have to be so weird? Why can't we just do it normal?"
"Is it normal to have sex with your uncle? Is it, Claire? You tell me." He rolled off of her and left her room, leaving her burning in places she didn't know existed.
But he was back the next night all the same.
He used an economy of movement when they did it, gently rocking into her. She came with his hand over her mouth and it felt nice but it was lacking. The technique was good enough, but he always held back, no matter what she did.
-----
She was already snuggled in bed one night, when Nathan knocked and stuck his head into her room.
"You awake?"
Claire sat up, and tossed her hair over her shoulder. She yawned. "Sure."
"Sorry. Would you mind watching the boys tomorrow night? It's a thing...just drinks, but I've got to take Heidi, and the nanny's off."
"Not a problem," said Claire, even though it was a minor inconvenience.
He told her thanks and to go back to sleep, so she did, but it was awhile before she heard the door shut. inappropriate dog!
-----
Claire thought the situation was all pretty much...tolerable. And holding. She thought it was tolerable until she finally figured out the distinction between Peter's body and Peter himself. One of these clearly wanted and needed her. The other did not, and it was only getting worse.
The realization left her scared and shaking, but she didn't push him away that night. Or the next. Or the next.
After he'd finish, he'd roll off of her and rub his hands harshly over his forehead.
Claire would sigh and start to gather her clothes. This was always the worst part. She was a captive audience, and he was just getting started about how bad this was, how it could never happen again, and that this time he meant it.
Peter used the "I" word without compunction.
-----
Nathan asked her why she'd stayed in for the last couple Friday nights. It still surprised her when he showed interest in her day. Or, any interest for that matter.
"Where's that blond kid that was hanging around here so much?"
He was cutting up his food - a reheated plate from the fridge, since he had been at a late meeting. He and Claire stood at the island in the kitchen.
Claire knew the meat was tough but Nathan didn't saw at it, somehow he cut the thin slivers gracefully...with a surgeon's precision. nathan doesnt do anything messy. seriously. i think the key to his character is control. he loves having it. of course, i love to write claire making him lose it, too.
"Casey?" Claire hadn't thought of her uninteresting yet persistent school friend in some time. She leaned on the counter and sighed, her dramatic pause carefully calculated. "He sucks. Boys suck. I'm done."
Nathan gave her a wry little edging smile. "Sure. You say that now."
-----
Late one night she watched some French film on Cinemax. It had a lot of sex and heaving bosoms and Claire got so hot and bothered that she snuck out of bed and took a cab over to Peter's apartment. dunno which. sounded good though, eh?
At first he didn't want to let her in, told her to go home for god's sake, it was past midnight.
But she didn't. She pressed her face against the crack in the door until he opened it, and then she pressed herself against Peter until he finally groaned. He pulled her over to the couch and he'd just found the right angle, the one that made her pinch her eyes together, when Peter's door opened.
Later she tried not to think about what it must've looked like - her legs spread, her breasts bouncing under her shirt as Peter thrust into her gently. And quietly, of course. That's the only way he ever did it.
The door slammed open and then Nathan was there, in his pajamas with a long coat over. His hair was messy and he was wearing the slippers she'd given him for Father's Day last year.
She wasn't naked (of course not, never), but there were parts of her that were definitely exposed. Peter gathered her up to him protectively, covered her body with his own. She didn't remember until later that her first instinct had been to push him away.
She hid her face with her hands and waited for the screaming to start.
And then...no one said anything - god, why had no one said anything? She lowered her hands and saw that neither one of them were even looking at her. Peter just stared at Nathan, until Nathan flung the door shut behind him. it seems that nathan would go either way - silent treatment or apeshit.
Peter did the blinking space-travel thing before she even knew it - his hand curled around hers, and then they were in her room at Nathan's. She plunked herself onto her bed and tried not to cry when Peter started to speak in a low whisper. He told her that this was her fault, that he hadn't wanted to do this tonight in the first place. Her fault, her fault, he practically snarled. very baby of peter to do this...but i think thats how he might be with nathan.
Nathan knew now and they were both screwed.
-----
She waited for an ugly blow up, a confrontation, something. But Nathan seemed normal as he buttered his toast the next morning, and Claire more than ever admired his acting ability.
"Claire, what's your schedule like today?" Nathan asked her in front of Heidi and the boys.
Claire smiled her very prettiest and said she wasn't doing a thing.
He took her to Sarabeth's for lunch, and she couldn't even choke down the pancakes (her favorite thing to eat in the whole damn City). How could she eat when she was waiting the whole time for the other shoe to drop?
Nathan ate cold salmon that he cut into thin slivers and he spoke easily. mm i heart salmon.
"This is nice. I think it'd be a good idea if we spent more time together," said Nathan. lol.
"Sounds good," she said, trying her best to keep her voice steady.
Then someone called his cell phone (that happened all the time), and he talked on it while she mushed her pancake into a mess that she couldn't bring herself to swallow. He took her back home after and the shoe never dropped.
-----
Peter wouldn't even look at her. eowyn_girl proofed this for me, and she got on me about the little ----- break things. yes, they are lazy. she was right. but without them, a lot og my fics would be like 10 chapters long, and i dont have the patience.
-----
She went to school and out with friends and went to Nathan's rah-rah rallies where she stood next to Peter because that's where the event coordinator told her to stand. But Peter was careful not to let his shoulder brush up against hers, even though it had been almost a whole month since it happened.
Peter wasn't speaking to her, not that she'd tried. She had pride, remember? If he didn't want her, then fine. Fine. It was only about lust in the first place, right?
Besides, there were other people that were interested. She went out with Casey, the nice boy from her school. Casey came over for dinner, and he was charming to her whole family. Nathan was especially great, chatty and easygoing. His best politician act.
He teased Casey gently, asking if he thought he was good enough for 'my little Claire'. Peter never would have done that, been that way toward a boy who liked her. nathan is being sarcastic here. love it.
In either case, it was all a pointless exercise. Casey's sloppy kisses didn't do much for her, didn't come close to quelling that burning feeling inside her that never seemed to go away, these days.
-----
She finally had someone to talk to in New York who wasn't Peter.
She'd long thought that Nathan was completely uninterested, had always seemed to see her as a charming house guest that was easily lumped into the same category as Monty and Simon. He had treated her nothing like a father or even a friend.
But that changed. He was interested in her life and her hobbies now. He wanted to know - really wanted to know her thoughts.
At least that's what he said. She hated that she couldn't read him. She felt silly yammering on sometimes, and he'd just sit there in his leather chair at his office desk, his hand held softly to his jaw. Was he really interested? Did he actually care? Or was that faint smile, the somewhat distant yet attentive expression just a cover for his boredom? She had no clue. i dont have an answer for this. im not entirely sure.
She could read Peter like a book. His brother is a goddamn enigma.
-----
Family dinners had become an exercise in frustration, but Peter kept coming so she refused to back down and say she was sick or something. She wasn't going to be the one that pussed out. That was his job.
And so it was another meal where she was ignored by the person next to her. Heidi thought she and Peter were mad at each other, and tried to get them to talk at dinner. Was forever seating them by one another and reminding them of funny stories that they used to tell in tandem.
Claire smiled tightly. Peter pushed the food around on his plate.
Claire saw Nathan gesture subtly to his wife, and she eased off.
-----
Peter still wouldn't look at her.
-----
It had been over two months, and still no confrontation.
At first she thought that Nathan was spending time with her for bonding purposes. Spend time with the misguided daughter, help her to not be such an incestuous freak. Claire had her reply all thought out for when Nathan finally did confront her about it. Because surely he would confront her one day. Here's what she would say: They stopped after that night. It hadn't meant anything anyway. It wasn't going to happen again.
Two of those were true, at least. this came off somewhat obtuse, it should have been clearer. they stopped, and it wasnt going to happen again.
Nathan took her out on the weekends, and bought her stuff like jewelry and clothes when he was out of town. It was a little odd but she didn't complain. Most of the girls at her school had nice stuff like this. Maybe Nathan just wanted her to have it too. Maybe he felt guilty about the Peter thing (even though it was so, so over). Maybe there was another reason? this is how nathan woos women i think.
She still couldn't read him.
She watched Girl, Interrupted on HBO one night and on it there was a girl who had sex with her father and it made her think about Nathan that way. For the first time.
Nathan. "and we all know that he fucks you. but what i know and they dont is that you like it."
-----
She hadn't been home from school very long at all that day when she walked slowly up to her room, her toes pinching in her new shoes. Impossibly high heels that Nathan bought for her last week.
When she opened the door to her room, the first thing she saw was Peter sitting on her bed. She tried not to gasp.
"I have something to say to you."
She folded her arms and looked at him. "I didn't know you were speaking to me."
"I will if I have something to say."
She made a face.
"Listen. Nathan knows. That changes everything. Do you understand?"
"Do you?" she asked.
Peter's face got very dark...very angry.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said prissily before he could yell, and she turned to leave.
And then Peter shot up from the bed, grabbed her arm roughly. "Do you have any idea what you're playing around with? You don’t know him. The real one. You can’t handle him. Trust me.” i do think she knows how to handle him. in her own way. claires not weak.
She jerked her arm out of his grasp and told him that he didn't get to be the hero who saves people anymore, and her heels clicked as she stalked out of the room.
-----
She had never thought about or even considered that her father (Nathan) was just as dirty-bad-wrong as her and Peter. She had thought all of his gifts and compliments and attention was a nice fatherly thing.
Ha.
She finally figured it out (finally - god, she had been dense) the afternoon when Nathan pulled her out of school. He said they were going to the Mandarin Oriental, which was cool because it was a beautiful hotel and she'd always wanted to see it. ive always wanted to stay at the mandarin. someday.
But instead of turning into the restaurant, they went in the lobby. They went up the service elevator (she still hadn't figured it out at that point) and the suite they were in had food on the table already. A private lunch, she thought, and she was pretty sure that this was where the confrontation was going to happen. It had been months and maybe that's just how long it took for Nathan to be ready to talk about it.
They were in the Taipan Suite, shades of red and silver and gold reflecting off of the glass that surrounded it. She could see the Hudson River and the Park and when she turned around to point out the conservatory to him, he had already shaken out of his suit coat and was halfway done unbuttoning his shirt.
"What are you doing?" Her voice was calm, because she wasn't worried. Still hadn't figured it out.
"I'm taking off my shirt," said Nathan perfunctorily, as he unclasped his cuff links. yow!
"Why?"
"Because that's what you do, Claire." He said it like she should have known that already.
She figured it out. Claire's mouth fell open. i wasnt sure that this abrupt shift would work...but i think it did ok.
He dropped his cuff links - platinum and obsidian - onto the bed. They fell with a soft ping onto the shiny surface of the comforter.
And then he walked around the bed. To her.
As he tipped her head back and held her firmly against his body, she thought a little bit (and then she couldn't think anymore). But while she could, she thought about how Nathan was worlds different than his little brother. Nathan didn't ask. He took.
And then he did it so well that she didn't mind the taking.
-----
It was Mrs. Petrelli's birthday. Grandmother. She never called her that, though.
They had had a dinner at Chanterelle. Claire worried her way through the meal, her mind on the small box that held a pair of citrine earrings that she'd bought for Mrs. Petrelli. Well, Nathan had bought them. Helped her pick them out too.
Claire's mind was a million miles away when Peter spoke to her.
"Just like him," he muttered quietly from her right side.
"Excuse me?"
"You cut your food just like him," said Peter distastefully, as he pushed his chair away from the table. She froze.
Claire didn't look up when Peter gave his excuses the rest of the table. Her eyes were glued to her plate, where thin little slivers of filet mignon laid.
-----
Nathan had a bigger package, and there was probably no way that Peter didn't know that. Was that the problem? haha. oh.
Because she didn't think there was any way Peter could possibly know that Nathan was incredible in bed. A whole lot better than Peter. Really. She realised that while laying spent and spread-legged on the bed where Nathan (her father) had just fucked the hell out of her for the fourth time this week. yes, nathan is better at sex. i dont doubt it for a second.
Of course, knowing what she did now, she didn't rule out the possibility of Nathan and Peter...you know. It seemed to be a genetic trait that none of them could avoid.
Nathan kissed her almost...painfully. It was fierce and certain and she loved it, loved the way he turned her head and pulled her hips against his.
He frenched her until she couldn't breathe, holding on for dear life with her fists wrapped in his thick dress shirt.
Nathan asked her to fellate him and she did, even though that was something she found pretty gross usually. Not with him. Not with him.
He lifted her easily and set her down onto his cock in a maddeningly slow fashion. He laced his fingers around the back of his neck, and thrust his hips up with practiced rhythm. She did most of the work but she wanted to with him.
She pressed her hands onto his chest, her hair falling over her shoulders. She was totally naked with Nathan and it didn't feel weird at all. He guided her movements with his hand on her hip. He'd pull her down with force when he wanted it hard and fast, push her up and out slowly when he wanted her to cool it.
She felt a little like a racehorse sometimes but the man delivered and she thought it best not to question the technique by which it occurred.
And another thing. He could go all night. He'd pull out of her occasionally, wave her hand away if he hadn't had enough time. And then he'd be ready to go again, until he took mercy on her raw, aching pussy and finally came.
She loved it. Every second of it. It felt fabulous and no one was worried and whining.
-----
At home, Nathan treated her the same as ever. He still patted her head before bed and he fawned over Heidi as always, though there was a new little jolt of something like surprise when he kissed her in front of Claire. She didn't say anything though. Of course not.
But sometimes his looks were longer, and she swore that tonight he had all but fucked her with his eyes when she came down the staircase in her short, black party dress. A cousin she had never met was getting married. She wanted to look nice. She wanted them both to see her looking nice. shes playing them off each other. i dont think she was meaning to though.
Nathan told her she looked very fetching and escorted her to the limo like it was no big deal. But when he helped her into her seat at the reception his fingers pressed just a little too hard around her wrist, and she had to fight the urge to look at him.
So she looked at Peter. He was sitting across from her, and his face was dark and brooding. His eyes were on the centerpiece, a vase of gold and lilies.
Whatever.
The bride was smiling with shining teeth and so was Claire because her body felt warm and a little bit naughty all the time now.
When Peter finally looked at her all she saw was hurt and rage that was barely below the surface. He knew about her and Nathan. He had to.
She pursed her lips in a way that she hoped told him that this was his fault, his fault. shes pissed at him. cant blame her.
-----
They were in the Taipan Suite again. Nathan told her it was a matter of logistics that they only meet in the hotel. Fine with her. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, in just her underpants, her hands holding her knees to her chest.
He was stretched out next to her, the sheet tossed casually over him. He had very tan thighs, dark hair that curled over them. She tried not to stare but she probably could have all day.
It was very quiet. Peaceful. Nathan didn't like television, hated the distraction of the radio or any other noise he deemed unnecessary. So they were just sitting there. It wasn't bad or anything. She'd learned to like the silence in the time she'd spent with him.
In a minute they were going to have to get up. She had to get back to school and he had...who knows. A million things to do. The phrase 'stolen moments' always seemed so wistful and star-crossy to her before, but these moments with Nathan truly were stolen. He was beyond busy. She loved that he carved this time out for her. nathans time is the most preious thing he has, i think that claire liked that much better than any clothes.
"Why?" she asked.
Nathan took a drag on his cigarette and tapped it into the ashtray on the side of the bed. He smoked in private. She was probably more surprised by that than anything. i love the idea of nathan hiding his smoking. i do think its a private indulgence.
"Why what?" said Nathan coolly.
"Why this?" She gestured to herself, then the bed.
He smiled tightly. That was his real smile. Not the wide grin that he put on for the cameras. In this bed she thought she’d met the real Nathan, and he was still an enigma, but becoming less of one.
"Have you ever looked in a mirror?" he asked.
She blushed, and he chuckled softly. For a minute she was satisfied with the answer, flattered into forgetting her real question. But she pressed on when the glow of his compliment had faded a bit.
"There's plenty of pretty girls you could've had. Seriously. Why me?" She turned to look at him.
“It’s what I do.”
“Fuck people?” She was trying to be mature and mouthy, but he just looked at her distastefully. swearing doesnt become her.
“No. I give people what they want,” said Nathan.
Her mouth dropped open. “You think I wanted this? That I planned this?”
“Not exactly.”
“What do you mean then?” she asked.
“I give people what they want…even if they don’t know they want it. It’s what all effective politicians do.”
She nodded. “Peter said once that you know things. He made it sound like you read minds or something.”
Nathan exhaled through his nostrils, faint trails of smoke drifting down his chest. “He’d know all about that, wouldn’t he?”
She hated to ask a million questions, because Nathan didn’t like it when she chattered on, but she had to. “What do you mean?” claire. THEY USED TO FUCK.
He sighed almost imperceptibly and stubbed his cigarette into the ashtray. "I don't expect you to understand mine and Peter's relationship. It's complicated. Mostly because I am who I am. Partly because I'm so much older. So I'm going to tell you this, and I don't want you to ask me about it. Just think about it."
"Okay," she said, and she prepared herself mentally for some nasty secret, some horrific event that was going to drive her crazy.
Nathan put his feet on the floor and started to pull his slacks on. "I give people what they want, like I said. Whether that’s in my profession or at home or here with you. I give generously, but I would never let anyone take something from me.”
He tied knots into his shoes with force. “Especially Peter."
She waited for more, and when it didn't come, she felt her lip curl. "That's why?"
He nodded, once.
"That's so...childish."
He nodded again. "Seems that way, doesn't it?"
Claire sat there for a minute, just feeling herself getting more and more angry. "I don't belong to you, you know. I don't belong to anyone."
"I didn't say you did."
"Well I don't," Claire retorted.
"Okay. Christ. Don't shout," said Nathan and looked at her disapprovingly. He had a way of making her feel really immature, sometimes.
"Peter didn't take me anywhere. I'm here 'cause I want to be," said Claire.
"Like I said, I don't expect you to understand. That's just Peter and I. It's been that way forever." Nathan spoke in a way that brooked no arguments.
She looked at him dubiously for a long moment, and then she felt herself relax. "Fine."
"Good." He shifted his knee onto the bed and gave her that vague smile. He patted her leg, and pulled her over the tangle of sheets to kiss her deeply. Tongue first. There wasn't much closed-mouth kissing with Nathan. i really think that nathan isnt entirely sure how he feels toward claire.
He kissed her slowly; only because they'd just finished a couple minutes ago and they both had to get going. That didn't stop him from cupping her breasts, rubbing his large, rough thumbs over her swollen nipples.
He ended the kiss, and it felt abrupt but it really wasn't. He stood up, and rolled his undershirt over his chest. Claire watched openly...he had a nice body. For someone his age especially. pasdar is brutally hot.
It was funny - the "I" word barely registered when it came to Nathan, even though, technically, he was her father and it was worse. She never thought of it around him.
It didn't seem to bother Nathan. Not like it had bothered Peter.
MORE NEXT POST!