Between a Rock and a Hard Place (Fic, Peter/Claire)
Title: Between a Rock and a Hard Place
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Peter/Claire
Warning: Underage Incest, Sexual Contact, Angst
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or its characters; I make no money from the writing of this story.
Spoilers: Vague Season 1. This fic doesn’t take place any time in particular. Peter has his original ability.
Summary: Claire knows Peter loves her, but it isn't enough.
A/N: Betaed by karaokegal.
Bright sunlight poured into the window, shining right into Claire’s face, waking her from her sleep.
She drew the curtain closed, but cheery pink and white gingham could not block the light. She pulled her covers over her head, and pressed her face into her pillow. She felt the pull of the place that was dark, black, impenetrable; the place where she could go to hide.
No matter how alone she was right now, there was only one way to hide from the person she hated the most: herself.
It was her fault this time, every time. Because she was different, losing them was always the same. Each time she fell in love, they drifted away once they found out what she really was. She was not like anyone else, not ever. No matter how she tried to be normal, something failed. Something broke. Something that she couldn’t heal.
She tried not to let it bother her, but it always did. She reminded herself that nothing really lasted forever. Except for her.
And him.
The only other person in the world who knew how this felt was currently sleeping in the room next to hers.
Claire got out of her bed and looked in the mirror. Her hair was an unruly blonde mess, but there was no indication that she had cried for hours, tossed, turned, barely slept all night. Though her body healed quickly, she felt as if her heart might ache forever.
Not that it mattered. When she went to him, he would know. He would know, and he would take it away, at least for a little while. But not forever.
***
Claire stepped into the large, blessedly dark bedroom and shut the door quietly behind her. The air in here was much cooler than any other room in the Petrelli house, raising gooseflesh on her arms and back, her nipples hardening beneath her satin nightgown. She raised the nightgown over her head and pulled it off, dropped it to the carpet. She walked softly to the bed, lifted the covers, slipped beneath them. He did not stir.
As naked as the man whose bed she now shared, she could feel his body heat warming her, not just on the outside but inside as well. The tingle began in her belly and radiated outward, her heart beating faster, the place where she wanted him most aching just as it did every time. She pressed her body to his, took him in her hand and made him hard while he slept. He finally awoke, and she heard him moan so softly she would have missed it if she hadn’t been waiting for it.
His movements were fluid, almost imperceptible, just a shadow of sensation of lips across her throat, a kiss on her shoulder. His mouth found her breasts, one, then the other, and his fingers moved down her belly until the very edge of his fingertip found her center, making her shiver.
Claire kissed him, and she could taste tears. He always cried for her when she came to his bed.
Because he knew.
She sighed as his lips moved lower, his tongue pressing down into her skin, down, until he just reached his destination. He always knew what she wanted, what to do to focus her attention on him and only him. She arched her body from the bed, and suddenly his tongue moved downward, his circles at first torturously slow, then quickening, until Claire could think of only him, until she could hardly find the breath to speak his name.
“Peter.”
Claire pulled him down, raising herself up to take him inside her, her hips flush with his, savoring the moment when she finally became lost in him.
She moved with him in a slow, deep rhythm, giving him everything he could take.
When they did this together, Peter possessed her body fully. He could always make her forget. When he came, she came along with him, and she felt him in every nerve, every muscle, and the only sound from her lips was his name.
“Peter…”
***
Claire lay in Peter’s arms for a short while, until she felt as if the silence and darkness would overtake her. She broke their embrace; he didn’t resist. Even this was temporary, fleeting, because she could never give him the one thing he truly wanted: her, all of her. Not just her body, but her heart as well.
She knew Peter loved her more than anything, more than all the boyfriends she’d ever had combined. Time and time again, she wished she could return that love. If she could, she would never need anyone else ever again. He was the only man in her life who could say forever and mean it. But he couldn’t give her everything she wanted. He couldn’t marry her. He couldn’t be the father of her children. Anything with Peter would have to be kept secret, kept in the dark like this.
Claire could never live like that.
Before she slipped out from under the covers, she kissed him once more, and still she could taste his tears. She wondered now if maybe he cried more for himself than for her.
She wasn’t entirely sure why she came to his bed in her times of need. She only knew that she shouldn’t. She could never take his pain away. He only took hers, and when he did, she left him alone in the dark and went back to the light.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Peter/Claire
Warning: Underage Incest, Sexual Contact, Angst
Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes or its characters; I make no money from the writing of this story.
Spoilers: Vague Season 1. This fic doesn’t take place any time in particular. Peter has his original ability.
Summary: Claire knows Peter loves her, but it isn't enough.
A/N: Betaed by karaokegal.
Bright sunlight poured into the window, shining right into Claire’s face, waking her from her sleep.
She drew the curtain closed, but cheery pink and white gingham could not block the light. She pulled her covers over her head, and pressed her face into her pillow. She felt the pull of the place that was dark, black, impenetrable; the place where she could go to hide.
No matter how alone she was right now, there was only one way to hide from the person she hated the most: herself.
It was her fault this time, every time. Because she was different, losing them was always the same. Each time she fell in love, they drifted away once they found out what she really was. She was not like anyone else, not ever. No matter how she tried to be normal, something failed. Something broke. Something that she couldn’t heal.
She tried not to let it bother her, but it always did. She reminded herself that nothing really lasted forever. Except for her.
And him.
The only other person in the world who knew how this felt was currently sleeping in the room next to hers.
Claire got out of her bed and looked in the mirror. Her hair was an unruly blonde mess, but there was no indication that she had cried for hours, tossed, turned, barely slept all night. Though her body healed quickly, she felt as if her heart might ache forever.
Not that it mattered. When she went to him, he would know. He would know, and he would take it away, at least for a little while. But not forever.
***
Claire stepped into the large, blessedly dark bedroom and shut the door quietly behind her. The air in here was much cooler than any other room in the Petrelli house, raising gooseflesh on her arms and back, her nipples hardening beneath her satin nightgown. She raised the nightgown over her head and pulled it off, dropped it to the carpet. She walked softly to the bed, lifted the covers, slipped beneath them. He did not stir.
As naked as the man whose bed she now shared, she could feel his body heat warming her, not just on the outside but inside as well. The tingle began in her belly and radiated outward, her heart beating faster, the place where she wanted him most aching just as it did every time. She pressed her body to his, took him in her hand and made him hard while he slept. He finally awoke, and she heard him moan so softly she would have missed it if she hadn’t been waiting for it.
His movements were fluid, almost imperceptible, just a shadow of sensation of lips across her throat, a kiss on her shoulder. His mouth found her breasts, one, then the other, and his fingers moved down her belly until the very edge of his fingertip found her center, making her shiver.
Claire kissed him, and she could taste tears. He always cried for her when she came to his bed.
Because he knew.
She sighed as his lips moved lower, his tongue pressing down into her skin, down, until he just reached his destination. He always knew what she wanted, what to do to focus her attention on him and only him. She arched her body from the bed, and suddenly his tongue moved downward, his circles at first torturously slow, then quickening, until Claire could think of only him, until she could hardly find the breath to speak his name.
“Peter.”
Claire pulled him down, raising herself up to take him inside her, her hips flush with his, savoring the moment when she finally became lost in him.
She moved with him in a slow, deep rhythm, giving him everything he could take.
When they did this together, Peter possessed her body fully. He could always make her forget. When he came, she came along with him, and she felt him in every nerve, every muscle, and the only sound from her lips was his name.
“Peter…”
***
Claire lay in Peter’s arms for a short while, until she felt as if the silence and darkness would overtake her. She broke their embrace; he didn’t resist. Even this was temporary, fleeting, because she could never give him the one thing he truly wanted: her, all of her. Not just her body, but her heart as well.
She knew Peter loved her more than anything, more than all the boyfriends she’d ever had combined. Time and time again, she wished she could return that love. If she could, she would never need anyone else ever again. He was the only man in her life who could say forever and mean it. But he couldn’t give her everything she wanted. He couldn’t marry her. He couldn’t be the father of her children. Anything with Peter would have to be kept secret, kept in the dark like this.
Claire could never live like that.
Before she slipped out from under the covers, she kissed him once more, and still she could taste his tears. She wondered now if maybe he cried more for himself than for her.
She wasn’t entirely sure why she came to his bed in her times of need. She only knew that she shouldn’t. She could never take his pain away. He only took hers, and when he did, she left him alone in the dark and went back to the light.