Heroes, "Grain of Salt" Peter/Claire, Rated NC-17
Fandom: Heroes
Title: Grain of Salt
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Romance/Fluff/Drama
Characters/Pairings: Peter/Claire, implied Claire/West and Caitlin/Peter (in the past tense)
Notes: Written for 13_fears prompt, 03. Apeirophobia; Fear of Infinity. Dedicated to frellingblonde, who missed the fluff in the Paire pairing lately.
Warnings: canon Paire, so you know what that means. Spoilers for Season Two, "Kindred", as well as speculations on West and Caitlin, whether they're dead, gone or the enemy.
Word Count: 4,813
Claims Table: http://quirkysmuse.livejournal.com/123687.html
Summary: Almost a year later and Peter comes to Claire with a regained memory for an impromptu reunion, only to realize how much they both need each other after all that has happened.
Grain of Salt
Claire threw her head back on the pillow and moaned as Peter trailed kisses down her jaw, hovering over her like a starved lion. She breathed, and felt her skin cooling down as sweat moistened her exhausted body.
She looked briefly up at the ceiling, licking her lips before feeling his mouth on hers again, desperate and heady.
How did they get like this? In a starched, clean world there was something wrong and sinful about this - about making love to a blood relative. However, Claire knew all too well that after a year from the explosion, her world was no longer clean. It was no longer safe and perfect. And the only time she felt even a small amount of normalcy when she was with him, seeing his smile and feeling his hand wipe away the constant tears on her face.
"Peter..." she whispered in a heavy breath. She cupped his face in her hands and met his eyes. He stopped thrusting inside her, trapped in the stilled moment of her touch. "I love you."
He kissed her again, soft and lingering. "I know." He exhaled, pushing inside her as she writhed against him, a spasm of completion filling her loins. "I love you too... God, so much. I missed you."
She wrapped her arms around him tightly, moving her hips with him. "Yes, yes, me too. Me too. Please, don't ever leave me again."
She felt his warmth pool within her, and he rested his head in the crook of her shoulder. Claire sighed, relishing in his scent as his taut body encased her, satiating her senses with that familiar protection.
Peter's breathing was soft, and Claire closed her eyes, her face beaming with contentment. Finally, Peter was home.
--
About a week ago...
She hadn't seen him in about a year, and for the majority of it, she had presumed he was dead. Now she was sitting with him during an impromptu family reunion, swirling her fork into her cold mashed potatoes. She couldn't even believe they were out in public eating dinner like everything was normal.
No, what she really couldn't believe was that he came to her immediately after seeing Nathan.
"He's still in bad shape." Peter sipped his iced tea, looking at her mournfully. Yet, his eyes seemed to bubble with hope. "But he's getting better. He was at least happy to see me. Surprised, but happy."
"Of course he was," Claire confirmed, putting her fork down and resting her elbows on the table as she watched him. Her gaze fell over his face again, and she couldn't help but stare at him. He looked tall and handsome as ever, without a scratch on him. Claire felt some sense of pride that it was due to her power that he looked so immaculate. If anything, it was because of her that he was even alive. She couldn't even imagine the trouble he'd gone through in Ireland. From what he told her, it was just as scary as what she had gone through with West and the Company.
She shook her head. "I'm just glad you came. I'm surprised you found me. We had to move again."
"Mohinder told me." Claire barely shrugged to his response. It was no wonder Peter was still corresponding with Mohinder again. The "un-special" scientist was forming a bond with all of them, even with her father. "Besides, I would have found you without his help." Suddenly his hand was on hers, and she immediately grabbed it and squeezed. It was just the type of physical contact she was hoping for.
"I know, Peter." Her green eyes were clear and cool, and she looked at him with adoration. She could feel the tears returning. "It's been so hard." She paused, but then her voice came out choked. "I really needed you."
"Yeah..." he said, reaching a finger over to wipe the tear that spilled onto her cheek. “I needed you too, even if I didn't know it." Claire bit her lip as she thought of his amnesia, and she was grateful he had recovered, even if it had taken some time.
Peter stared at her, and she looked away, still feeling useless. She had needed Peter so much, and when he wasn't here, she had acted like a fool and trusted someone like West.
"Claire, is there something wrong?" he asked. She squeezed his hand in hers again and smiled lightly.
"No, it's just..." Her eyes suddenly sparkled. "Take a picture with me."
Peter looked at her in confusion. "What?"
Claire dug a hand into her handbag and pulled out a small digital camera. Another customer walked by, and Claire immediately stopped him. "Excuse me!" The man stopped and turned to them. Claire smiled. "Sir, could you please take a picture of me and my uncle? I haven't seen him in a year." The man nodded, with a kind expression on his face as Claire taught him how to use her camera. She moved into the opposite side of the booth next to Peter. Instinctively, he put his arm around her, and she leaned into his chest. They both smiled brightly, and after a quickly flash, Claire reached for the camera and gave the man her thanks.
She sat back into the booth next to Peter, clicking the button on her camera to see their picture. "Perfect." Her grin widened, and Peter leaned in and kissed her forehead.
Peter was warm, and Claire didn't want to go back to her side of the booth.
--
"How long are you staying?" Claire asked as she began to leave Peter's hotel room. It was one in the morning, and she still didn't know where the time had gone. Mostly, they just talked or watched movies in his room. Claire was glad her dad knew where she was because he didn't even call her. As long as she was with Peter, Claire knew her dad felt she was safe.
Somewhere inside her though, she didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.
"I'm staying a bit longer. I told Nathan I'd come back in a couple weeks to talk about mom's possessions and set him up in rehab. I'm also supposed to mediate a talk between him and Heidi. I'll be giving a call to her tomorrow. Hopefully, she won't hang up on me."
"Oh, I hope that goes well," Claire said, fiddling with the strings of her hooded sweater. She looked around nervously in the hallway of the hotel. She honestly didn't want to leave and preferred to stay with Peter until morning. But she knew that would have been silly.
"I'm glad you're staying." She looked at the ground and shuffled her feet slightly. She pouted. "I really need you. It's either that, or I get some mental help. This year has been...." She sighed.
"Hey, hey," Peter said soothingly. He drew her into his arms and rested his chin on her head. "I said I'd be here. Don't worry anymore, Claire. We all have our darkness to get over."
She nodded against him, staying in his arms for just a second longer. Claire sniffed. She loved the way he smelled - and the way his muscles shaped under his clothes as she rested her fingers over his chest.
Maybe she was sick for thinking such things, but if Peter wasn't her uncle...
"It's getting late," he said finally. It was Peter's polite way of saying that she should go. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you home?"
"No, I can take a cab." Claire withdrew from his chest, looking up into his face. He was obviously still worried about her. She moved in closer, and suddenly, a strange urge took her over. She stood on her toes and planted a chaste kiss on his dry lips. He moved his head, responding very lightly.
"Goodnight." Claire turned walking down the hallway and swishing her purse back and forth. The look on his face started to haunt her. He didn't even flinch, and he seemed to welcome her kiss, even if it was just a chaste one.
Then, she flushed, and she knew that wasn't a very good sign. Yet, for some reason, she didn't feel like it was wrong.
--
Peter was leaving in two days, and Claire couldn't believe how much time had passed. She didn't want him to go, and she felt selfish. She wanted him to forget about Nathan and Heidi and stay with her. She wanted him to stay with her forever. She felt so weak and vulnerable since West's betrayal, since her father's continuing dealings, and with her fragmented normal life altogether.
But when she was with Peter, she didn't feel at all like a freak. He made her feel warm, special and safe. What would happen two days from now when he was gone? Would she revert back to vulnerable-Claire, the girl who could heal from anything but a shattered heart?
"We should have gone to the beach," Peter mused, setting up two folding chairs onto his hotel room balcony. He snorted. "There isn't much room here."
Claire looked around, shrugging. "I'll admit it is cozy, but it's nice. You have a great view of the ocean from here. And here we don't have to deal with people." Peter shot her a glare which made Claire laugh. "Oh, come on, you have one of the best hotel rooms around, and you want to waste your time on a public beach?" Claire leaned onto the balcony and breathed in the cool, sea air. "This is the life." She turned to him and gave him a sardonic smile. "I'm not even going to ask how you afforded this room."
Without realizing it, her little joke had caused Peter's eyes to darken. He frowned, and Claire knew she had crossed the line somewhere. "I'm sorry, Peter."
"Don't be," he said, sitting onto the lawn chair and staring onto the ground. "Sooner or later, I'm going to have to tell you everything that happened in Ireland. I think I would feel better if I shared it with someone."
"Do you... want to talk about it now?" Claire asked, walking slowly over to him. Peter shook his head.
"I don't want to ruin the day," Peter said. He let out a small laugh. "You're going to teach me all about this 'sunbathing' thing, Claire. I'm afraid a city boy from New York doesn't sit out in the sun too much." Claire was about to say something, but then he pulled his loose fitting t-shirt over his head. Her voice was stuck in her throat, and she stood mesmerized by his form. With his Italian genes, she was sure he really didn't need to tan hardly at all.
"Well... there is no science to it," said Claire, her voice coming out lower than she had meant. She turned around to cover her blush, and nervously her fingers fiddled with the tie to her robe. She brushed the silk material over her shoulders. When she turned around, she realized Peter wasn't staring at her face, yet rather how scandalously small her bikini was. She grinned inwardly, and as she spoke, his eyes met hers again. She sat on the chair and laid back. "You just lay and enjoy the sun, provided you turn over at the appropriate time. You don't want one crispy side and one that’s completely white." She giggled, and Peter kept staring at her.
Suddenly, the air felt very thick and awkward.
Then, she immediately sprung off her chair, realizing she had forgotten something. Her motion made Peter jump. "Oh! I forgot the lotion!"
"It's right here," Peter said, grabbing the bottle and handing it to her.
Automatically, Claire pushed the bottle back to him and said, "Could you help?" Peter nodded, swallowing harshly with his eyes clouding with desire. Claire suddenly shivered.
She turned around on her seat, and Peter's hands were on her back, moist from the lotion as he swirled his fingers over her flesh. Claire closed her eyes in contentment, and she felt him softly push her hair over her shoulder as he rubbed the oil onto her upper back. She felt his finger accidentally graze over her bikini tie, and her eyes shot open, her body oddly stirring in anxiety.
"All done in the back. You don't need me too..."
"No," she said quickly, forcing a smile. "I got it."
Peter tried not to watch her, and he laid back into his chair as she finished applying the lotion to her front. She handed him the bottle when she was done. Peter obligingly took it, starting to speak as he lathered up himself.
"Did you ever wonder, since we don't die, that we're going to live past everyone else?" Peter asked out of the blue, quickly gaining Claire's attention. She looked at him with wide eyes. She hadn't expected such a question out of the blue, but there was no doubt that she'd thought of it before.
"Well, yeah, I mean... if I can't die, then I wonder if it means I can't grow old or die of old age. If I can grow old, do I stop aging at ninety and just live as an old woman for the rest of my life, or will my powers fend off aging effects too?" Claire paused, and her voice was soft and sad. "I wonder if it also means that I'm going to just end up alone."
Peter paused, looking away. His brow furrowed. "Yeah, I've been wondering that too." He sighed. "Are we really immortal? I don't want to live on past everyone else if I'm going to be alone."
"Yeah..." Claire said with a far away voice, looking out to the calm ocean waters. "What's the point of never dying if you're just going to be the last one left?"
Immediately, Claire felt Peter's hand on her shoulder. She turned to him, and his face beamed with hope.
"If we both are immortal, Claire, at least we won't be alone. We'll have each other." Peter's smile was contagious. Claire patted his hand.
"Trust me, Peter. That's the only good thing about it."
Peter reclined back into his chair. "Still, with everyone who has powers out there, I think it would be nice to be with someone who never died." He sighed, and he could not see Claire's frown. "After Caitlin, I began to think that maybe I'm not supposed to be with someone so normal." He turned to Claire again, who had her back to him. He said finally, "So I guess it's just you and me, kid."
Claire let out a guffaw. She didn't know whether or not to be overjoyed or sad from Peter's attitude. Instead, she let it slide and proceeded to enjoy the hot California sun. She wouldn't let such a day go to waste, and for a moment, she felt rebellious. All this pitiful moaning between them was getting on her nerves. It was no way to spend her last couple of days with Peter. She didn't want to think about the past or the stupid future where they didn't die and only could live together as niece and uncle. She thought it was all so stupid, and she'd be damned if she wasted a perfectly good day wallowing in her own misery.
She had done enough of that over the last year.
When she didn't say anything, Claire could still feel Peter's eyes on her. She lifted her head high, and reached her hands behind her back. She untied the knot of her bikini, and let the top fall to the ground. She could hear Peter's heavy intake of breath behind her. She ignored it and moved to lay on her stomach, ready to soak up the glowing sun without any unsightly tan lines. In fifteen minutes over or so, she'd turn over and do the front.
Then what would Peter say? She grunted as he continued to stare.
"Claire...."
"What?" she said in a growl. When he said nothing, Claire asked, "Hey, could you go inside and get me something to drink? It's hotter than I thought. Maybe some lemonade?"
"Sure," Peter said with a strained voice. "I'll call room service." And like lightning, Peter was out the balcony door. Claire smiled, resting her head against the soft blankets on her chair.
--
Peter couldn't believe what she had just done. Was Claire that comfortable with him that she'd sunbathed topless with him? Of course, maybe he was the only pervert here. Maybe Claire was really innocent, just like that kiss she gave him a couple nights before.
Just like all those chaste kisses they'd given each other all those times afterward. And each time, they burned on Peter's lips as something other than chaste.
He surmised that maybe those kisses were all they could have before things got weird. But things were getting weird anyway.
So did it really matter?
After he ordered room service, he set the phone back into the receiver and saw movement in the corner of his eye. Claire had shifted positions, and now she was lying with her front to the sun.
Peter swallowed. There was no way he could go back out there now, not when he was feeling like this! Instinctively, his eyes fell to the bulge in his swim trunks.
"Damn!" he swore. He had tried for weeks after that first 'chaste' kiss to keep his emotions strictly platonic. He and Claire had been through so much already within the last year, so could they really handle the burden in one of them having feelings for the other?
He didn't even know how Claire felt about him. He'd guess that he was the only odd one here, and that she truly did see him only as her uncle.
There was a knock on the door, and Peter started to regret ordering room service. In just minutes he'd have to take that glass of lemonade out to her, notice her naked sunbathing breasts, and then he'd have to be a gentleman and resist all urges to touch, kiss, and even look at them.
He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. What was she thinking? He couldn't believe any eighteen year old girl would be so comfortable with a male family relative that she'd sunbathe topless with him. I mean, the Petrelli family was close, but...
Oh, God, did she do this with her brother or father?
"Peter, did room service come already? I thought I heard something." Her voice startled him, and he clenched his jaw and decided to be tough.
'We're just family. Uncle and niece. We're very close, but it's strictly platonic. Very chaste. Just close family.'
Suddenly, he swallowed the lump in his throat, picked up their drinks, and proceeded to go into the lion's den. He moved passed the threshold of the balcony, and he noticed his hand was shaking. It was shaking so much that the sweat from the glass loosened his grip, and it felt right on top of Claire's naked torso.
"Eeeee!" she squealed as ice cold lemonade fell onto her chest. Peter started apologizing right away, setting his drink down and turning inside to get a towel. He felt even sicker as he watched in delight how her nipples perked from the cold.
"Sorry, Claire!" He threw a large towel on her, quickly covering up her chest. She grumbled at him that the large towel was unnecessary, but he was automatically relieved that her naked breasts were no longer taunting him.
"You clutz!" Claire bemoaned. Peter grabbed the broom and started cleaning up the broken glass. Some of the glass shards had embedded into Claire's leg, and with a hiss, she removed them as her healing powers took over.
"Sorry, you can have my drink. I didn't expect you to..."
"What?"
"Claire," Peter said with a firm voice. "Just what are you trying to do here?"
"Uh... get a great tan and drink a glass of lemonade?" she answered in a snotty voice.
Peter shot her a stern look. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her inside. The towel she was using dropped to the ground and was left outside on the balcony.
"Look at you," he said, his stern voice changing to a whisper. "You're half naked in front of me."
Claire's lip quivered and she looked away. She looked totally busted. "I know. I'm sorry."
Peter paused, surprised by her instant apology. He sighed. "You shouldn't be sorry. I should be sorry. I'm...." He moved closer to her and rubbed his hands down her arms. She looked up at him with curious eyes, and he retracted his hands as if he was burned. "I'm the wrong one here...You haven't done anything."
"Peter, stop it! Don't take the full blame in this." Claire swayed on her feet nervously. She took his hand, caressing it lovingly with her other. "I needed you too much. I'm sorry. This is not the way to need you. It's wrong, and you were the right one to stop it." She turned around, covering her chest. "Oh, God, you must think I'm such a sick freak now. I ruined one of our last days together by doing this."
Peter watched her as she moved toward the shower. He caught a glance of her sorrowful face, and instantly, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back. Suddenly, words came out of his mouth that he didn't know he was capable of saying.
"Don't. You didn't ruin anything." He turned her around, and she was flush against his chest, her half-nakedness to his. He said soothingly, "Claire, don't you think we've had enough misery in our life?"
She nodded against him, and he could feel her breasts rubbing against his skin. He shuddered, heat pooling below him. He leaned in and gave her one of their trademark chaste kisses.
But it didn't stay chaste for too long.
--
Claire leaned into him, feeling his burning lips on hers. She opened her mouth, and immediately the line was crossed as he pushed his tongue past her lips and teeth. She moaned, and his hands were in her hair, trailing down and gripping her shoulders. She snaked her arms around him, squeezing him tightly with need. He pulled them both back, and she felt weightless as he floated them onto to the bed.
She threw herself over him as he leaned into the bed, devouring his mouth hungrily and searching out his heat with her frenetic hands. She moved her fingers over his chest, heaving against her palms and his heart racing with her every touch.
"Claire..." he whispered, and suddenly hearing her name on his lips like that had filled up so much lost time. She squirmed over his lap, and felt his fingers in her hair. He was hard underneath her, and she cooed happily in his mouth as he eagerly bucked into her. As he pulled down his shorts, she suddenly felt his hardened muscle scrape against the inside of her thigh. She let out a hearty moan as his busy hands fell below, tracing over her moist bikini bottoms. She fisted her hands in his hair as he pushed a finger inside, her thighs moving readily against him.
When she felt him push in another finger, she threw her head back and moaned. He trailed kisses down her jaw line, his lips finally resting upon one of her breasts. She arched into him as his tongue grazed her hardening tip.
Her hips moved to the rhythm of his fingers, reaching inside her, coated with her wetness. Hungrily he continued to lap at her breasts, sucking and nibbling the sensitive skin as a fire started to build up inside her. Claire felt completely at Peter's mercy, her burgeoning ecstasy growing to his every touch, ready to burst into the open.
She'd never felt so alive - so safe and normal - within Peter's arms. Yet, if anything there was nothing normal about them: not their powers, not their lives, and certainly not for their love for one another.
And she remembered what he had said only minutes ago: "Still, with everyone who has powers out there, I think it would be nice to be with someone who never died."
Claire just hoped that she was enough for him; that she was exactly what he wanted.
She whined in protest as his fingers pulled out, but they were soon replaced by something much larger and whole, and Claire mewled with surprise as he thrust into her.
"Yes..." she cooed, and Peter's heavy breath was against her skin with his nose rubbing against her breasts. He moved his hands and gripped her hips; slowing her pace to match his as she moved on top of him, bucking to his encompassing and erogenous touch.
Warm and hard like steel, he drew in and out of her faster, her insides pulsating around him, slick and sweet around him. Her nails dug into his back as she rode him, bouncing on him and moaning out strangled tones of his name. His muscles tightened, and he thrust upward, pushing further, trying to reach inside her more than ever before. She screamed, and he felt her thighs spasm, and she slacked against him, finding her release.
He pushed harder a few times, wanting to catch up, and not until she kissed his shoulder lightly, did he suddenly feel it, a ball of power unraveling within him, screaming to come out. He flipped her onto her back, and grunted, ramming and pistoning one last time before he emptied inside her. He moaned as her hands gripped his short hair, and her legs shuddered with aftershocks, and she whined exhaustion as he froze, branding himself inside of her with every last drop.
"Peter...." She fell back onto the pillow next to him as he leaned on his side. He pushed the hair from her eyes and watched her with a lazy expression, rich from the after glow.
"You're beautiful," he purred, and he watched her with eyes that she'd never seen before. Yesterday he was her uncle, and today he was something completely different and more.
She looked up at him shyly, her face reddening. "And you're amazing." She traced a hand over his cheek, and he grabbed it, kissing her palm quickly.
"Claire, do you think..." Peter paused, but his smile would not disappear. There was only a small amount of worry prevalent in his eyes. Claire guessed that was better than anything. "Do you think this is wrong?"
She thought for a moment. 'Sure, it's wrong to a lot of people. But to those who don't know us, I'm just Claire Bennet and he's Peter Petrelli. They don't know we're related.' She smiled at him as Peter continued to stare, touching her lightly and tickling her cooling skin. 'Even if people did know, it doesn’t matter anyway.'
"Is it wrong that we have to live forever while our loved ones die before us?" she asked. Peter's smile widened, and soon both of them felt their love was justified. Even if it wasn't, they couldn't deny any longer they needed each other. They could be countries apart, years apart, but they would still eventually find each other. 'It was destiny,' Claire had thought, and she remembered Peter saying the exact same thing just a year before.
"I've missed you," he said, drawing her close into his embrace. Claire snuggled against him, feeling that they fit perfectly. The past slowly turned to dust in their minds, and the warm California air mixed with their carnal scents created a somber sanctuary.
"Never leave me again," Claire said. She looked at him sternly. "And when you leave to see Nathan and Heidi, call every day. Call just to say hi and tell me how you feel."
"I will..." he said, kissing her nose.
"And you must come back." She nuzzled her face into his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, and she felt him breathe easily against her. She mumbled against him, "You must come back to me, Peter."
He kissed her full on the mouth and rewarded her with a crooked smile that sang of promise.
"I will, Claire," Peter replied, and everything about him reassured her and made her feel loved. He pulled her against him again for a tight cuddle and closed his eyes. Memories of the last year, dark and misguided, faded away to the black corners of his mind. Only the warmth of Claire's light filled him now.
And as Claire fell asleep comfortably in his arms, Peter finally whispered to her, "I have to come back. Because with you, Claire, I'm home."
END
Title: Grain of Salt
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Romance/Fluff/Drama
Characters/Pairings: Peter/Claire, implied Claire/West and Caitlin/Peter (in the past tense)
Notes: Written for 13_fears prompt, 03. Apeirophobia; Fear of Infinity. Dedicated to frellingblonde, who missed the fluff in the Paire pairing lately.
Warnings: canon Paire, so you know what that means. Spoilers for Season Two, "Kindred", as well as speculations on West and Caitlin, whether they're dead, gone or the enemy.
Word Count: 4,813
Claims Table: http://quirkysmuse.livejournal.com/123687.html
Summary: Almost a year later and Peter comes to Claire with a regained memory for an impromptu reunion, only to realize how much they both need each other after all that has happened.
Grain of Salt
Claire threw her head back on the pillow and moaned as Peter trailed kisses down her jaw, hovering over her like a starved lion. She breathed, and felt her skin cooling down as sweat moistened her exhausted body.
She looked briefly up at the ceiling, licking her lips before feeling his mouth on hers again, desperate and heady.
How did they get like this? In a starched, clean world there was something wrong and sinful about this - about making love to a blood relative. However, Claire knew all too well that after a year from the explosion, her world was no longer clean. It was no longer safe and perfect. And the only time she felt even a small amount of normalcy when she was with him, seeing his smile and feeling his hand wipe away the constant tears on her face.
"Peter..." she whispered in a heavy breath. She cupped his face in her hands and met his eyes. He stopped thrusting inside her, trapped in the stilled moment of her touch. "I love you."
He kissed her again, soft and lingering. "I know." He exhaled, pushing inside her as she writhed against him, a spasm of completion filling her loins. "I love you too... God, so much. I missed you."
She wrapped her arms around him tightly, moving her hips with him. "Yes, yes, me too. Me too. Please, don't ever leave me again."
She felt his warmth pool within her, and he rested his head in the crook of her shoulder. Claire sighed, relishing in his scent as his taut body encased her, satiating her senses with that familiar protection.
Peter's breathing was soft, and Claire closed her eyes, her face beaming with contentment. Finally, Peter was home.
--
About a week ago...
She hadn't seen him in about a year, and for the majority of it, she had presumed he was dead. Now she was sitting with him during an impromptu family reunion, swirling her fork into her cold mashed potatoes. She couldn't even believe they were out in public eating dinner like everything was normal.
No, what she really couldn't believe was that he came to her immediately after seeing Nathan.
"He's still in bad shape." Peter sipped his iced tea, looking at her mournfully. Yet, his eyes seemed to bubble with hope. "But he's getting better. He was at least happy to see me. Surprised, but happy."
"Of course he was," Claire confirmed, putting her fork down and resting her elbows on the table as she watched him. Her gaze fell over his face again, and she couldn't help but stare at him. He looked tall and handsome as ever, without a scratch on him. Claire felt some sense of pride that it was due to her power that he looked so immaculate. If anything, it was because of her that he was even alive. She couldn't even imagine the trouble he'd gone through in Ireland. From what he told her, it was just as scary as what she had gone through with West and the Company.
She shook her head. "I'm just glad you came. I'm surprised you found me. We had to move again."
"Mohinder told me." Claire barely shrugged to his response. It was no wonder Peter was still corresponding with Mohinder again. The "un-special" scientist was forming a bond with all of them, even with her father. "Besides, I would have found you without his help." Suddenly his hand was on hers, and she immediately grabbed it and squeezed. It was just the type of physical contact she was hoping for.
"I know, Peter." Her green eyes were clear and cool, and she looked at him with adoration. She could feel the tears returning. "It's been so hard." She paused, but then her voice came out choked. "I really needed you."
"Yeah..." he said, reaching a finger over to wipe the tear that spilled onto her cheek. “I needed you too, even if I didn't know it." Claire bit her lip as she thought of his amnesia, and she was grateful he had recovered, even if it had taken some time.
Peter stared at her, and she looked away, still feeling useless. She had needed Peter so much, and when he wasn't here, she had acted like a fool and trusted someone like West.
"Claire, is there something wrong?" he asked. She squeezed his hand in hers again and smiled lightly.
"No, it's just..." Her eyes suddenly sparkled. "Take a picture with me."
Peter looked at her in confusion. "What?"
Claire dug a hand into her handbag and pulled out a small digital camera. Another customer walked by, and Claire immediately stopped him. "Excuse me!" The man stopped and turned to them. Claire smiled. "Sir, could you please take a picture of me and my uncle? I haven't seen him in a year." The man nodded, with a kind expression on his face as Claire taught him how to use her camera. She moved into the opposite side of the booth next to Peter. Instinctively, he put his arm around her, and she leaned into his chest. They both smiled brightly, and after a quickly flash, Claire reached for the camera and gave the man her thanks.
She sat back into the booth next to Peter, clicking the button on her camera to see their picture. "Perfect." Her grin widened, and Peter leaned in and kissed her forehead.
Peter was warm, and Claire didn't want to go back to her side of the booth.
--
"How long are you staying?" Claire asked as she began to leave Peter's hotel room. It was one in the morning, and she still didn't know where the time had gone. Mostly, they just talked or watched movies in his room. Claire was glad her dad knew where she was because he didn't even call her. As long as she was with Peter, Claire knew her dad felt she was safe.
Somewhere inside her though, she didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.
"I'm staying a bit longer. I told Nathan I'd come back in a couple weeks to talk about mom's possessions and set him up in rehab. I'm also supposed to mediate a talk between him and Heidi. I'll be giving a call to her tomorrow. Hopefully, she won't hang up on me."
"Oh, I hope that goes well," Claire said, fiddling with the strings of her hooded sweater. She looked around nervously in the hallway of the hotel. She honestly didn't want to leave and preferred to stay with Peter until morning. But she knew that would have been silly.
"I'm glad you're staying." She looked at the ground and shuffled her feet slightly. She pouted. "I really need you. It's either that, or I get some mental help. This year has been...." She sighed.
"Hey, hey," Peter said soothingly. He drew her into his arms and rested his chin on her head. "I said I'd be here. Don't worry anymore, Claire. We all have our darkness to get over."
She nodded against him, staying in his arms for just a second longer. Claire sniffed. She loved the way he smelled - and the way his muscles shaped under his clothes as she rested her fingers over his chest.
Maybe she was sick for thinking such things, but if Peter wasn't her uncle...
"It's getting late," he said finally. It was Peter's polite way of saying that she should go. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you home?"
"No, I can take a cab." Claire withdrew from his chest, looking up into his face. He was obviously still worried about her. She moved in closer, and suddenly, a strange urge took her over. She stood on her toes and planted a chaste kiss on his dry lips. He moved his head, responding very lightly.
"Goodnight." Claire turned walking down the hallway and swishing her purse back and forth. The look on his face started to haunt her. He didn't even flinch, and he seemed to welcome her kiss, even if it was just a chaste one.
Then, she flushed, and she knew that wasn't a very good sign. Yet, for some reason, she didn't feel like it was wrong.
--
Peter was leaving in two days, and Claire couldn't believe how much time had passed. She didn't want him to go, and she felt selfish. She wanted him to forget about Nathan and Heidi and stay with her. She wanted him to stay with her forever. She felt so weak and vulnerable since West's betrayal, since her father's continuing dealings, and with her fragmented normal life altogether.
But when she was with Peter, she didn't feel at all like a freak. He made her feel warm, special and safe. What would happen two days from now when he was gone? Would she revert back to vulnerable-Claire, the girl who could heal from anything but a shattered heart?
"We should have gone to the beach," Peter mused, setting up two folding chairs onto his hotel room balcony. He snorted. "There isn't much room here."
Claire looked around, shrugging. "I'll admit it is cozy, but it's nice. You have a great view of the ocean from here. And here we don't have to deal with people." Peter shot her a glare which made Claire laugh. "Oh, come on, you have one of the best hotel rooms around, and you want to waste your time on a public beach?" Claire leaned onto the balcony and breathed in the cool, sea air. "This is the life." She turned to him and gave him a sardonic smile. "I'm not even going to ask how you afforded this room."
Without realizing it, her little joke had caused Peter's eyes to darken. He frowned, and Claire knew she had crossed the line somewhere. "I'm sorry, Peter."
"Don't be," he said, sitting onto the lawn chair and staring onto the ground. "Sooner or later, I'm going to have to tell you everything that happened in Ireland. I think I would feel better if I shared it with someone."
"Do you... want to talk about it now?" Claire asked, walking slowly over to him. Peter shook his head.
"I don't want to ruin the day," Peter said. He let out a small laugh. "You're going to teach me all about this 'sunbathing' thing, Claire. I'm afraid a city boy from New York doesn't sit out in the sun too much." Claire was about to say something, but then he pulled his loose fitting t-shirt over his head. Her voice was stuck in her throat, and she stood mesmerized by his form. With his Italian genes, she was sure he really didn't need to tan hardly at all.
"Well... there is no science to it," said Claire, her voice coming out lower than she had meant. She turned around to cover her blush, and nervously her fingers fiddled with the tie to her robe. She brushed the silk material over her shoulders. When she turned around, she realized Peter wasn't staring at her face, yet rather how scandalously small her bikini was. She grinned inwardly, and as she spoke, his eyes met hers again. She sat on the chair and laid back. "You just lay and enjoy the sun, provided you turn over at the appropriate time. You don't want one crispy side and one that’s completely white." She giggled, and Peter kept staring at her.
Suddenly, the air felt very thick and awkward.
Then, she immediately sprung off her chair, realizing she had forgotten something. Her motion made Peter jump. "Oh! I forgot the lotion!"
"It's right here," Peter said, grabbing the bottle and handing it to her.
Automatically, Claire pushed the bottle back to him and said, "Could you help?" Peter nodded, swallowing harshly with his eyes clouding with desire. Claire suddenly shivered.
She turned around on her seat, and Peter's hands were on her back, moist from the lotion as he swirled his fingers over her flesh. Claire closed her eyes in contentment, and she felt him softly push her hair over her shoulder as he rubbed the oil onto her upper back. She felt his finger accidentally graze over her bikini tie, and her eyes shot open, her body oddly stirring in anxiety.
"All done in the back. You don't need me too..."
"No," she said quickly, forcing a smile. "I got it."
Peter tried not to watch her, and he laid back into his chair as she finished applying the lotion to her front. She handed him the bottle when she was done. Peter obligingly took it, starting to speak as he lathered up himself.
"Did you ever wonder, since we don't die, that we're going to live past everyone else?" Peter asked out of the blue, quickly gaining Claire's attention. She looked at him with wide eyes. She hadn't expected such a question out of the blue, but there was no doubt that she'd thought of it before.
"Well, yeah, I mean... if I can't die, then I wonder if it means I can't grow old or die of old age. If I can grow old, do I stop aging at ninety and just live as an old woman for the rest of my life, or will my powers fend off aging effects too?" Claire paused, and her voice was soft and sad. "I wonder if it also means that I'm going to just end up alone."
Peter paused, looking away. His brow furrowed. "Yeah, I've been wondering that too." He sighed. "Are we really immortal? I don't want to live on past everyone else if I'm going to be alone."
"Yeah..." Claire said with a far away voice, looking out to the calm ocean waters. "What's the point of never dying if you're just going to be the last one left?"
Immediately, Claire felt Peter's hand on her shoulder. She turned to him, and his face beamed with hope.
"If we both are immortal, Claire, at least we won't be alone. We'll have each other." Peter's smile was contagious. Claire patted his hand.
"Trust me, Peter. That's the only good thing about it."
Peter reclined back into his chair. "Still, with everyone who has powers out there, I think it would be nice to be with someone who never died." He sighed, and he could not see Claire's frown. "After Caitlin, I began to think that maybe I'm not supposed to be with someone so normal." He turned to Claire again, who had her back to him. He said finally, "So I guess it's just you and me, kid."
Claire let out a guffaw. She didn't know whether or not to be overjoyed or sad from Peter's attitude. Instead, she let it slide and proceeded to enjoy the hot California sun. She wouldn't let such a day go to waste, and for a moment, she felt rebellious. All this pitiful moaning between them was getting on her nerves. It was no way to spend her last couple of days with Peter. She didn't want to think about the past or the stupid future where they didn't die and only could live together as niece and uncle. She thought it was all so stupid, and she'd be damned if she wasted a perfectly good day wallowing in her own misery.
She had done enough of that over the last year.
When she didn't say anything, Claire could still feel Peter's eyes on her. She lifted her head high, and reached her hands behind her back. She untied the knot of her bikini, and let the top fall to the ground. She could hear Peter's heavy intake of breath behind her. She ignored it and moved to lay on her stomach, ready to soak up the glowing sun without any unsightly tan lines. In fifteen minutes over or so, she'd turn over and do the front.
Then what would Peter say? She grunted as he continued to stare.
"Claire...."
"What?" she said in a growl. When he said nothing, Claire asked, "Hey, could you go inside and get me something to drink? It's hotter than I thought. Maybe some lemonade?"
"Sure," Peter said with a strained voice. "I'll call room service." And like lightning, Peter was out the balcony door. Claire smiled, resting her head against the soft blankets on her chair.
--
Peter couldn't believe what she had just done. Was Claire that comfortable with him that she'd sunbathed topless with him? Of course, maybe he was the only pervert here. Maybe Claire was really innocent, just like that kiss she gave him a couple nights before.
Just like all those chaste kisses they'd given each other all those times afterward. And each time, they burned on Peter's lips as something other than chaste.
He surmised that maybe those kisses were all they could have before things got weird. But things were getting weird anyway.
So did it really matter?
After he ordered room service, he set the phone back into the receiver and saw movement in the corner of his eye. Claire had shifted positions, and now she was lying with her front to the sun.
Peter swallowed. There was no way he could go back out there now, not when he was feeling like this! Instinctively, his eyes fell to the bulge in his swim trunks.
"Damn!" he swore. He had tried for weeks after that first 'chaste' kiss to keep his emotions strictly platonic. He and Claire had been through so much already within the last year, so could they really handle the burden in one of them having feelings for the other?
He didn't even know how Claire felt about him. He'd guess that he was the only odd one here, and that she truly did see him only as her uncle.
There was a knock on the door, and Peter started to regret ordering room service. In just minutes he'd have to take that glass of lemonade out to her, notice her naked sunbathing breasts, and then he'd have to be a gentleman and resist all urges to touch, kiss, and even look at them.
He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. What was she thinking? He couldn't believe any eighteen year old girl would be so comfortable with a male family relative that she'd sunbathe topless with him. I mean, the Petrelli family was close, but...
Oh, God, did she do this with her brother or father?
"Peter, did room service come already? I thought I heard something." Her voice startled him, and he clenched his jaw and decided to be tough.
'We're just family. Uncle and niece. We're very close, but it's strictly platonic. Very chaste. Just close family.'
Suddenly, he swallowed the lump in his throat, picked up their drinks, and proceeded to go into the lion's den. He moved passed the threshold of the balcony, and he noticed his hand was shaking. It was shaking so much that the sweat from the glass loosened his grip, and it felt right on top of Claire's naked torso.
"Eeeee!" she squealed as ice cold lemonade fell onto her chest. Peter started apologizing right away, setting his drink down and turning inside to get a towel. He felt even sicker as he watched in delight how her nipples perked from the cold.
"Sorry, Claire!" He threw a large towel on her, quickly covering up her chest. She grumbled at him that the large towel was unnecessary, but he was automatically relieved that her naked breasts were no longer taunting him.
"You clutz!" Claire bemoaned. Peter grabbed the broom and started cleaning up the broken glass. Some of the glass shards had embedded into Claire's leg, and with a hiss, she removed them as her healing powers took over.
"Sorry, you can have my drink. I didn't expect you to..."
"What?"
"Claire," Peter said with a firm voice. "Just what are you trying to do here?"
"Uh... get a great tan and drink a glass of lemonade?" she answered in a snotty voice.
Peter shot her a stern look. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her inside. The towel she was using dropped to the ground and was left outside on the balcony.
"Look at you," he said, his stern voice changing to a whisper. "You're half naked in front of me."
Claire's lip quivered and she looked away. She looked totally busted. "I know. I'm sorry."
Peter paused, surprised by her instant apology. He sighed. "You shouldn't be sorry. I should be sorry. I'm...." He moved closer to her and rubbed his hands down her arms. She looked up at him with curious eyes, and he retracted his hands as if he was burned. "I'm the wrong one here...You haven't done anything."
"Peter, stop it! Don't take the full blame in this." Claire swayed on her feet nervously. She took his hand, caressing it lovingly with her other. "I needed you too much. I'm sorry. This is not the way to need you. It's wrong, and you were the right one to stop it." She turned around, covering her chest. "Oh, God, you must think I'm such a sick freak now. I ruined one of our last days together by doing this."
Peter watched her as she moved toward the shower. He caught a glance of her sorrowful face, and instantly, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back. Suddenly, words came out of his mouth that he didn't know he was capable of saying.
"Don't. You didn't ruin anything." He turned her around, and she was flush against his chest, her half-nakedness to his. He said soothingly, "Claire, don't you think we've had enough misery in our life?"
She nodded against him, and he could feel her breasts rubbing against his skin. He shuddered, heat pooling below him. He leaned in and gave her one of their trademark chaste kisses.
But it didn't stay chaste for too long.
--
Claire leaned into him, feeling his burning lips on hers. She opened her mouth, and immediately the line was crossed as he pushed his tongue past her lips and teeth. She moaned, and his hands were in her hair, trailing down and gripping her shoulders. She snaked her arms around him, squeezing him tightly with need. He pulled them both back, and she felt weightless as he floated them onto to the bed.
She threw herself over him as he leaned into the bed, devouring his mouth hungrily and searching out his heat with her frenetic hands. She moved her fingers over his chest, heaving against her palms and his heart racing with her every touch.
"Claire..." he whispered, and suddenly hearing her name on his lips like that had filled up so much lost time. She squirmed over his lap, and felt his fingers in her hair. He was hard underneath her, and she cooed happily in his mouth as he eagerly bucked into her. As he pulled down his shorts, she suddenly felt his hardened muscle scrape against the inside of her thigh. She let out a hearty moan as his busy hands fell below, tracing over her moist bikini bottoms. She fisted her hands in his hair as he pushed a finger inside, her thighs moving readily against him.
When she felt him push in another finger, she threw her head back and moaned. He trailed kisses down her jaw line, his lips finally resting upon one of her breasts. She arched into him as his tongue grazed her hardening tip.
Her hips moved to the rhythm of his fingers, reaching inside her, coated with her wetness. Hungrily he continued to lap at her breasts, sucking and nibbling the sensitive skin as a fire started to build up inside her. Claire felt completely at Peter's mercy, her burgeoning ecstasy growing to his every touch, ready to burst into the open.
She'd never felt so alive - so safe and normal - within Peter's arms. Yet, if anything there was nothing normal about them: not their powers, not their lives, and certainly not for their love for one another.
And she remembered what he had said only minutes ago: "Still, with everyone who has powers out there, I think it would be nice to be with someone who never died."
Claire just hoped that she was enough for him; that she was exactly what he wanted.
She whined in protest as his fingers pulled out, but they were soon replaced by something much larger and whole, and Claire mewled with surprise as he thrust into her.
"Yes..." she cooed, and Peter's heavy breath was against her skin with his nose rubbing against her breasts. He moved his hands and gripped her hips; slowing her pace to match his as she moved on top of him, bucking to his encompassing and erogenous touch.
Warm and hard like steel, he drew in and out of her faster, her insides pulsating around him, slick and sweet around him. Her nails dug into his back as she rode him, bouncing on him and moaning out strangled tones of his name. His muscles tightened, and he thrust upward, pushing further, trying to reach inside her more than ever before. She screamed, and he felt her thighs spasm, and she slacked against him, finding her release.
He pushed harder a few times, wanting to catch up, and not until she kissed his shoulder lightly, did he suddenly feel it, a ball of power unraveling within him, screaming to come out. He flipped her onto her back, and grunted, ramming and pistoning one last time before he emptied inside her. He moaned as her hands gripped his short hair, and her legs shuddered with aftershocks, and she whined exhaustion as he froze, branding himself inside of her with every last drop.
"Peter...." She fell back onto the pillow next to him as he leaned on his side. He pushed the hair from her eyes and watched her with a lazy expression, rich from the after glow.
"You're beautiful," he purred, and he watched her with eyes that she'd never seen before. Yesterday he was her uncle, and today he was something completely different and more.
She looked up at him shyly, her face reddening. "And you're amazing." She traced a hand over his cheek, and he grabbed it, kissing her palm quickly.
"Claire, do you think..." Peter paused, but his smile would not disappear. There was only a small amount of worry prevalent in his eyes. Claire guessed that was better than anything. "Do you think this is wrong?"
She thought for a moment. 'Sure, it's wrong to a lot of people. But to those who don't know us, I'm just Claire Bennet and he's Peter Petrelli. They don't know we're related.' She smiled at him as Peter continued to stare, touching her lightly and tickling her cooling skin. 'Even if people did know, it doesn’t matter anyway.'
"Is it wrong that we have to live forever while our loved ones die before us?" she asked. Peter's smile widened, and soon both of them felt their love was justified. Even if it wasn't, they couldn't deny any longer they needed each other. They could be countries apart, years apart, but they would still eventually find each other. 'It was destiny,' Claire had thought, and she remembered Peter saying the exact same thing just a year before.
"I've missed you," he said, drawing her close into his embrace. Claire snuggled against him, feeling that they fit perfectly. The past slowly turned to dust in their minds, and the warm California air mixed with their carnal scents created a somber sanctuary.
"Never leave me again," Claire said. She looked at him sternly. "And when you leave to see Nathan and Heidi, call every day. Call just to say hi and tell me how you feel."
"I will..." he said, kissing her nose.
"And you must come back." She nuzzled her face into his chest. He ran his fingers through her hair, and she felt him breathe easily against her. She mumbled against him, "You must come back to me, Peter."
He kissed her full on the mouth and rewarded her with a crooked smile that sang of promise.
"I will, Claire," Peter replied, and everything about him reassured her and made her feel loved. He pulled her against him again for a tight cuddle and closed his eyes. Memories of the last year, dark and misguided, faded away to the black corners of his mind. Only the warmth of Claire's light filled him now.
And as Claire fell asleep comfortably in his arms, Peter finally whispered to her, "I have to come back. Because with you, Claire, I'm home."
END