Strangers
Title: Strangers
Genre: Television
Show: Heroes
Rating: R
Category: Humor/Romance
Spoilers: S1, from 1X09 Homecoming
Summary: AU. What might have happened if instead of going their seperate ways, if Peter and Claire had stayed together after running into each other in the hall?
Love to my beta dragonydreams
_______
Strangers
_______
"Ohh, sorry!"
"Sorry!"
The two strangers said as they slammed into each other and sent the girl's bag flying. With a charming grin, the man leaned down and picked it up. The girl blushed as his chocolate eyes stared at her, hesitating in taking her bag back from his hands before curling it into her arms. "That was my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going."
He grinned and shrugged. "My pleasure."
She smiled at him shyly, turning to continue her rush to the locker room to quickly change for half-time. She was supposed to be at home, being punished for decking Jackie, though she'd admittedly been quite the bitch at the time.
His voice had her turning back, though, before she'd gone even a few steps. "What's your name?"
Claire was no fool; she'd seen this very scene in several horror movies. She gives her name, the man becomes obsessed, stalks her, rapes her, kills her...but you can't rape the consensual, she thought to herself as she studied the stranger. He was tall, easily a foot taller than her. Very attractive in a bungling nerd kind of way. He looked like the kind of man who'd never been comfortable in his own skin; as a girl who had that same problem she could empathize. He had great eyes, eyes that even now were kind of eating her up. Ignoring the warmth escalating in her chest, she smiled widely at him and put her hand out to be shaken. "I'm Claire Bennet."
He nodded, taking her hand but instead of shaking it, he only stood there holding it. He stared at her like he knew all her secrets; right through her and God help her, she liked it. "My name's Peter. Peter Petrelli." He released her hand with a self-conscious grin. "Um, do you know her?" He gestured to the trophy case behind him, specifically the article framed inside heralding Jackie Wilcox, the bitch whom Claire had hit, as the town hero.
Claire lost a bit of that grin as she nodded. "That's Jackie." She didn't elaborate, mostly because inside she was a bit disappointed. Jackie always did get the cutest guys, most likely because she went out of her way to steal them. If Zach hadn't been gay, Claire had no doubt that Jackie would have made a play for him by now. "Are you a reporter?"
Peter looked surprised. "No. I was just...I think I might know her."
Claire could tell he was lying, but he really seemed like no harm. "It's almost half-time, so she's most likely out on the field, but um...I'm heading to the locker room, you can come and see if she's there if you want." It gave her extra time to appreciate the older-man-sexiness of him.
The walk to the locker room wasn't far and neither of them spoke as they walked. Their sidelong glances were enough to occupy their time.
Peter knew that she was younger than him. Okay, a lot younger than him. She was a cute perky HIGH SCHOOL cheerleader. He'd seen enough movies-of-the-week to know that this kind of attraction never led to good things. Still...thinking the word perky had him looking at her chest, and it was sizable despite her short stature. Unwillingly, he started imagining her jumping up and down...in a cheer, for Christ's sake, you pervs. He'd seen what the cheerleaders wore here (who wore long sleeves in Texas?) and could easily see her wearing it in his fantasy. In fact, as he walked blindly for a few feet, he could see her now, bouncing and smiling, throwing those curls over her shoulders as she leaned in and licked his ear, blowing on it lightly as she whispered seductively...
"This is it."
Peter jumped and stared down at the petite girl beside him. "Okay, um...I guess I can't go in."
Claire smiled. "You can come in. I don't think anyone is in there."
"How can you tell?" Peter asked as she pulled open the door and gestured for him to walk in.
"No noise. Girls make noise. Especially cheerleaders."
That got him thinking dirty thoughts again, so Peter chose to ignore it. "So...she's out on the field?"
Claire nodded and slid past him; in the narrow space between the bench and the long row of lockers she brushed against him. Part of her wanted to pause, let the warmth of him sink in, but she was rational enough to know that it would be obvious what she was doing. With a grin, she set her bag on the bench and started to open her locker, ignoring that Peter still stood a few feet away. "You gonna go look for her?"
Peter realized he'd been staring into space (Bouncing Cheerleaders are fun!) and flashed a guilty grin. "Um...I guess so." He turned, ready to leave, when a thought occurred to him. "There's no one around. You sure you're gonna be okay alone in here?"
Claire laughed as her locker opened, then blushed as one of her spare bras, a lacy racy red little number fell to the ground. Both of their eyes immediately locked on it and she froze. What could be more mortifying than having a sexy stranger see your unmentionables? Especially the risqué ones you let your gay friend goad you into buying between attempts to maim yourself?
Peter bent down, picking it up by the edge of the cup and ignoring the urge to rub the texture with his fingers, and held it out to her.
She didn't breathe as she reached for it, and the embarrassment slid away under his oh-so-direct gaze. She started to pull it from his hand, but he didn't release it, so instead she was pulling him towards her.
Bare inches between them as she sighed roughly, looking into eyes not familiar, even though she wanted them to be. Who was this man that he could affect her so? Where had he come from, and how did she keep him?
Peter pushed the bra into her locker, under the clothes crowded in there, but didn't move away. Her hair gleamed in the partial light that filtered around the lockers and he smiled softly. "You probably need to head out to the field, right?"
She shook her head slowly. "I'm not even really supposed to be here."
"You're not?"
"They wouldn't even miss me..." she finished in a whisper as she stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his.
This was bad.
They didn't know each other.
This was one of those temptations that inevitably came back to bite you on the ass.
They didn't care.
Her lips were soft as they brushed his thinner, harder ones. Her breath smelled of mint chocolate, undoubtedly from candy, and he found the super sweet scent matched her perfectly. Her eyes fluttered closed and he took it as permission to take it a step further. Peter pressed his lips against hers completely, slowly licking the inside of her bottom lip before falling into a passionate lip lock. He slid his hands into those sunlit curls and pressed her against the locker as she curled into him.
He moaned aloud as he slipped down to nuzzle her neck, rubbing against her in a primal rhythm that echoed deep inside each of them. Claire moaned and reached blindly into her locker for a certain item Jackie had placed there as a cruel joke several months ago and that she'd never removed (thank gawd). Pulling the box from her locker, she gasped for air as his lips found her breast through the tight t-shirt she wore beneath her jacket. "Peter!"
"Hmmm?" His inquiry was a vibration against already overloaded senses and she giggled as she tapped him with the box.
"I think..." she started to say, stopping with a loud moan as he slid his hand into her jeans.
Peter glanced at the box. "Good idea," he muttered even as he undid the button of her jeans with his teeth (which was not as easy as it sounds). Claire grinned and fisted her hands in his hair, enjoying the silky glide of the tresses through her small fingers. Peter's breath rushed against the sensitive skin of her pelvis as he slid her jeans and panties down, only to find her boots still on. Shrugging because it really didn't matter, he slid back up, pressing jean-clad hips against pale naked ones.
They kissed again, Claire wrapping her arms around his neck as he undid his own pants and let them slip to his knees. The air temperature around them sky-rocketed as he reached behind him to pull at the box she still held in her hands, tearing it open one-handed and reaching for one of the packets inside. Breaking their kiss, he ripped it open with his teeth, smirking as she took it from him and looked down at his penis, a gleam of cum already at its tip. She wiped it with her thumb, licking it off before cupping his balls and pumping him up and down. Tired of her games, they put the condom on together and fused their semi-naked bodies together.
Peter slid his hands under her thighs, lifting her against the lockers. Her legs were caught at the feet by her jeans and shoes, so she bent her knees and tried to accommodate his hips. It created an odd diamond of her legs, but when he started to push his dick into her hot wetness, she didn't care how odd they looked.
Claire searched for something to hold on to, but with only slick metal at her back, she had only him. Sinking nails and teeth into his shoulders, she screamed as he thrust into her. She felt a momentary pain, then this extraordinary sensation of being filled, so completely that it took what little breath she had away. She leaned back to look in his eyes and knew that he felt this same blind lust.
"I didn't know..." He gasped as she involuntarily clenched around him.
"I didn't tell you."
"I wouldn't have-"
She fisted her hands in his hair. "Doesn't matter. It'll just come back."
He looked confused, but when she took advantage of his distraction to rip his shirt down the middle, he didn't care. Adjusting his hips in a small way, he withdrew from her (one of the hardest things he's ever had to do) and plunged back inside (great fun!). Claire threw one hand above her head and almost felt like a beast was inside her trying to claw out. With every thrust of his hips, bite of his lips, the beast became wilder. It made her clench the top of the locker above her, cutting into her hand; her teeth made deep impressions in Peter's ear even as she whispered all sorts of encouragement to him.
"There..." she gasped when he ran the tip of his latex-covered extremity over a certain spot. "Oohh, there!" She sighed again as he slid across it on purpose. Together, they moved in the dark, their sighs echoing out into the hall, though no one heard them over the cries of the nearby stadium. Peter picked up steam, moving in and out in seamless motions that were almost a blur to the eye. Her back slammed into the lockers behind her with a resounding THWAP every time, and it sounded like it hurt, but they were both past caring.
She was so close, he could feel her nails pressing harder as she gasped and moaned into his ear. She pulled his head back, pressing her lips to his as her tight cunt exploded around him, muscles he never knew existed in a woman gripping and releasing almost instantly in an oddly massaging way. Her arms slammed into the lockers behind her as she pushed herself down on him, trying to pull him in deeper. Her head fell back, a long silent scream escaping in a rush of air. Peter pulled her thighs up higher, forcing her legs wider and let her orgasm spur his.
He could feel his balls tightening up, ready to be released, and with a sigh and a small nibble on her shoulder, he gave in.
A few rough, short thrusts later, and he could feel himself losing it, cumming inside her and spurring her to another high. They clenched together, riding out the last waves in harmony until he could only helplessly fall to his knees, still supporting her and imagining that sliding down the lockers like they did could not have felt good.
Their breath eventually evened out and their skin cooled, yet they remained locked together. Peter grinned at her, leaning in to kiss her neck right where her pulse still beat frantically. Claire smiled and gestured to the box of condoms still lying rampaged nearby. "I don't usually-"
Peter grinned. "It's okay. I can kind of tell that."
She laughed. "It was nice though."
"Very nice."
They laughed together and he nuzzled her neck, having forgotten the very reason he was even here in Odessa. He bit her neck lightly, suckling because the thought of her having his mark on her was satisfying for some unexplored reason he'd rather not go into at the moment.
He pulled back, nipping at her chin in delight, when his hickey disappeared right before his eyes. Claire watched his face slacken in shock. Even as he looked at her with new eyes, eyes that knew just what she was, she watched the marks she'd made on him (bites, hickeys, several bruises) disappear as well. She looked at him with new eyes as well.
He gasped, floundering in these new circumstances. "You're the one I was looking for?"
"You're like me?"
He nodded. "I guess I am."
She smiled softly, shrugging. "I guess you found me."
_______
Read and review, please.
Genre: Television
Show: Heroes
Rating: R
Category: Humor/Romance
Spoilers: S1, from 1X09 Homecoming
Summary: AU. What might have happened if instead of going their seperate ways, if Peter and Claire had stayed together after running into each other in the hall?
Love to my beta dragonydreams
_______
Strangers
_______
"Ohh, sorry!"
"Sorry!"
The two strangers said as they slammed into each other and sent the girl's bag flying. With a charming grin, the man leaned down and picked it up. The girl blushed as his chocolate eyes stared at her, hesitating in taking her bag back from his hands before curling it into her arms. "That was my fault. I wasn't watching where I was going."
He grinned and shrugged. "My pleasure."
She smiled at him shyly, turning to continue her rush to the locker room to quickly change for half-time. She was supposed to be at home, being punished for decking Jackie, though she'd admittedly been quite the bitch at the time.
His voice had her turning back, though, before she'd gone even a few steps. "What's your name?"
Claire was no fool; she'd seen this very scene in several horror movies. She gives her name, the man becomes obsessed, stalks her, rapes her, kills her...but you can't rape the consensual, she thought to herself as she studied the stranger. He was tall, easily a foot taller than her. Very attractive in a bungling nerd kind of way. He looked like the kind of man who'd never been comfortable in his own skin; as a girl who had that same problem she could empathize. He had great eyes, eyes that even now were kind of eating her up. Ignoring the warmth escalating in her chest, she smiled widely at him and put her hand out to be shaken. "I'm Claire Bennet."
He nodded, taking her hand but instead of shaking it, he only stood there holding it. He stared at her like he knew all her secrets; right through her and God help her, she liked it. "My name's Peter. Peter Petrelli." He released her hand with a self-conscious grin. "Um, do you know her?" He gestured to the trophy case behind him, specifically the article framed inside heralding Jackie Wilcox, the bitch whom Claire had hit, as the town hero.
Claire lost a bit of that grin as she nodded. "That's Jackie." She didn't elaborate, mostly because inside she was a bit disappointed. Jackie always did get the cutest guys, most likely because she went out of her way to steal them. If Zach hadn't been gay, Claire had no doubt that Jackie would have made a play for him by now. "Are you a reporter?"
Peter looked surprised. "No. I was just...I think I might know her."
Claire could tell he was lying, but he really seemed like no harm. "It's almost half-time, so she's most likely out on the field, but um...I'm heading to the locker room, you can come and see if she's there if you want." It gave her extra time to appreciate the older-man-sexiness of him.
The walk to the locker room wasn't far and neither of them spoke as they walked. Their sidelong glances were enough to occupy their time.
Peter knew that she was younger than him. Okay, a lot younger than him. She was a cute perky HIGH SCHOOL cheerleader. He'd seen enough movies-of-the-week to know that this kind of attraction never led to good things. Still...thinking the word perky had him looking at her chest, and it was sizable despite her short stature. Unwillingly, he started imagining her jumping up and down...in a cheer, for Christ's sake, you pervs. He'd seen what the cheerleaders wore here (who wore long sleeves in Texas?) and could easily see her wearing it in his fantasy. In fact, as he walked blindly for a few feet, he could see her now, bouncing and smiling, throwing those curls over her shoulders as she leaned in and licked his ear, blowing on it lightly as she whispered seductively...
"This is it."
Peter jumped and stared down at the petite girl beside him. "Okay, um...I guess I can't go in."
Claire smiled. "You can come in. I don't think anyone is in there."
"How can you tell?" Peter asked as she pulled open the door and gestured for him to walk in.
"No noise. Girls make noise. Especially cheerleaders."
That got him thinking dirty thoughts again, so Peter chose to ignore it. "So...she's out on the field?"
Claire nodded and slid past him; in the narrow space between the bench and the long row of lockers she brushed against him. Part of her wanted to pause, let the warmth of him sink in, but she was rational enough to know that it would be obvious what she was doing. With a grin, she set her bag on the bench and started to open her locker, ignoring that Peter still stood a few feet away. "You gonna go look for her?"
Peter realized he'd been staring into space (Bouncing Cheerleaders are fun!) and flashed a guilty grin. "Um...I guess so." He turned, ready to leave, when a thought occurred to him. "There's no one around. You sure you're gonna be okay alone in here?"
Claire laughed as her locker opened, then blushed as one of her spare bras, a lacy racy red little number fell to the ground. Both of their eyes immediately locked on it and she froze. What could be more mortifying than having a sexy stranger see your unmentionables? Especially the risqué ones you let your gay friend goad you into buying between attempts to maim yourself?
Peter bent down, picking it up by the edge of the cup and ignoring the urge to rub the texture with his fingers, and held it out to her.
She didn't breathe as she reached for it, and the embarrassment slid away under his oh-so-direct gaze. She started to pull it from his hand, but he didn't release it, so instead she was pulling him towards her.
Bare inches between them as she sighed roughly, looking into eyes not familiar, even though she wanted them to be. Who was this man that he could affect her so? Where had he come from, and how did she keep him?
Peter pushed the bra into her locker, under the clothes crowded in there, but didn't move away. Her hair gleamed in the partial light that filtered around the lockers and he smiled softly. "You probably need to head out to the field, right?"
She shook her head slowly. "I'm not even really supposed to be here."
"You're not?"
"They wouldn't even miss me..." she finished in a whisper as she stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his.
This was bad.
They didn't know each other.
This was one of those temptations that inevitably came back to bite you on the ass.
They didn't care.
Her lips were soft as they brushed his thinner, harder ones. Her breath smelled of mint chocolate, undoubtedly from candy, and he found the super sweet scent matched her perfectly. Her eyes fluttered closed and he took it as permission to take it a step further. Peter pressed his lips against hers completely, slowly licking the inside of her bottom lip before falling into a passionate lip lock. He slid his hands into those sunlit curls and pressed her against the locker as she curled into him.
He moaned aloud as he slipped down to nuzzle her neck, rubbing against her in a primal rhythm that echoed deep inside each of them. Claire moaned and reached blindly into her locker for a certain item Jackie had placed there as a cruel joke several months ago and that she'd never removed (thank gawd). Pulling the box from her locker, she gasped for air as his lips found her breast through the tight t-shirt she wore beneath her jacket. "Peter!"
"Hmmm?" His inquiry was a vibration against already overloaded senses and she giggled as she tapped him with the box.
"I think..." she started to say, stopping with a loud moan as he slid his hand into her jeans.
Peter glanced at the box. "Good idea," he muttered even as he undid the button of her jeans with his teeth (which was not as easy as it sounds). Claire grinned and fisted her hands in his hair, enjoying the silky glide of the tresses through her small fingers. Peter's breath rushed against the sensitive skin of her pelvis as he slid her jeans and panties down, only to find her boots still on. Shrugging because it really didn't matter, he slid back up, pressing jean-clad hips against pale naked ones.
They kissed again, Claire wrapping her arms around his neck as he undid his own pants and let them slip to his knees. The air temperature around them sky-rocketed as he reached behind him to pull at the box she still held in her hands, tearing it open one-handed and reaching for one of the packets inside. Breaking their kiss, he ripped it open with his teeth, smirking as she took it from him and looked down at his penis, a gleam of cum already at its tip. She wiped it with her thumb, licking it off before cupping his balls and pumping him up and down. Tired of her games, they put the condom on together and fused their semi-naked bodies together.
Peter slid his hands under her thighs, lifting her against the lockers. Her legs were caught at the feet by her jeans and shoes, so she bent her knees and tried to accommodate his hips. It created an odd diamond of her legs, but when he started to push his dick into her hot wetness, she didn't care how odd they looked.
Claire searched for something to hold on to, but with only slick metal at her back, she had only him. Sinking nails and teeth into his shoulders, she screamed as he thrust into her. She felt a momentary pain, then this extraordinary sensation of being filled, so completely that it took what little breath she had away. She leaned back to look in his eyes and knew that he felt this same blind lust.
"I didn't know..." He gasped as she involuntarily clenched around him.
"I didn't tell you."
"I wouldn't have-"
She fisted her hands in his hair. "Doesn't matter. It'll just come back."
He looked confused, but when she took advantage of his distraction to rip his shirt down the middle, he didn't care. Adjusting his hips in a small way, he withdrew from her (one of the hardest things he's ever had to do) and plunged back inside (great fun!). Claire threw one hand above her head and almost felt like a beast was inside her trying to claw out. With every thrust of his hips, bite of his lips, the beast became wilder. It made her clench the top of the locker above her, cutting into her hand; her teeth made deep impressions in Peter's ear even as she whispered all sorts of encouragement to him.
"There..." she gasped when he ran the tip of his latex-covered extremity over a certain spot. "Oohh, there!" She sighed again as he slid across it on purpose. Together, they moved in the dark, their sighs echoing out into the hall, though no one heard them over the cries of the nearby stadium. Peter picked up steam, moving in and out in seamless motions that were almost a blur to the eye. Her back slammed into the lockers behind her with a resounding THWAP every time, and it sounded like it hurt, but they were both past caring.
She was so close, he could feel her nails pressing harder as she gasped and moaned into his ear. She pulled his head back, pressing her lips to his as her tight cunt exploded around him, muscles he never knew existed in a woman gripping and releasing almost instantly in an oddly massaging way. Her arms slammed into the lockers behind her as she pushed herself down on him, trying to pull him in deeper. Her head fell back, a long silent scream escaping in a rush of air. Peter pulled her thighs up higher, forcing her legs wider and let her orgasm spur his.
He could feel his balls tightening up, ready to be released, and with a sigh and a small nibble on her shoulder, he gave in.
A few rough, short thrusts later, and he could feel himself losing it, cumming inside her and spurring her to another high. They clenched together, riding out the last waves in harmony until he could only helplessly fall to his knees, still supporting her and imagining that sliding down the lockers like they did could not have felt good.
Their breath eventually evened out and their skin cooled, yet they remained locked together. Peter grinned at her, leaning in to kiss her neck right where her pulse still beat frantically. Claire smiled and gestured to the box of condoms still lying rampaged nearby. "I don't usually-"
Peter grinned. "It's okay. I can kind of tell that."
She laughed. "It was nice though."
"Very nice."
They laughed together and he nuzzled her neck, having forgotten the very reason he was even here in Odessa. He bit her neck lightly, suckling because the thought of her having his mark on her was satisfying for some unexplored reason he'd rather not go into at the moment.
He pulled back, nipping at her chin in delight, when his hickey disappeared right before his eyes. Claire watched his face slacken in shock. Even as he looked at her with new eyes, eyes that knew just what she was, she watched the marks she'd made on him (bites, hickeys, several bruises) disappear as well. She looked at him with new eyes as well.
He gasped, floundering in these new circumstances. "You're the one I was looking for?"
"You're like me?"
He nodded. "I guess I am."
She smiled softly, shrugging. "I guess you found me."
_______
Read and review, please.