Summary: Sequel to Thirteen O'Clock. Peter and Claire can no longer deny their attraction.
Spoilers/Warnings: Through How to Stop an Exploding Man. Canon, so beware of the incest and underage sex.
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Tim Kring et al.
Feedback: Yes please! It makes me happy and keeps me writing.
Thanks to kallie_kat for the beta.
Author's Note: This was written for frellingblonde, in exchange for her generous donation to fire_fic. She requested a fluffy, smutty, sequel to Thirteen O'Clock.
Peter glanced up from his sketchbook, feeling someone's eyes on him. He should have known that it was Claire. She always seemed to be watching him these days.
He was going to have to talk to her about this. She thought she was being covert, but when she thought no one was looking, she would stare at him with heated eyes, like she was mentally undressing him. It thrilled and repulsed him.
It had been three months since he'd exploded. Close to four months since Peter had helped Claire run away from home, found her birth mother, and discovered that they were related. Only after they had shared some of the best kisses of his life.
He had struggled to keep his distance, but it wasn't easy. After the explosion, Nathan insisted that Peter move into his home in Hyde Park. He wouldn't take no for an answer, insisting that they needed to stay together, as a family, and be prepared for any attack from Sylar; especially since Nathan would be off in Washington DC soon to begin his term in office. This meant that Peter and Claire were now living under the same roof.
Dinnertime had become something for Peter to dread. Claire sat across the table from him, between her half-brothers, thinking very loud, inappropriate thoughts. About him. A meal wouldn't pass without her wondering what his lips would feel like against her skin. If he was using a fork or spoon she'd wonder how his lips would feel surrounding her nipples. When he used his knife and fork to cut something, she'd wonder how his fingers would feel holding her hips to the bed as he thrust into her.
The one time he had idly run his fingers over the stem of his wine glass he had nearly choked as she wondered if he masturbated – to thoughts of her. He suddenly became very aware of what his hands were doing during a meal and tried not to do anything to lead her thoughts in a sexual direction. It didn't work.
Even now, as Claire stood on the staircase and looked down at him in the sitting room, her thoughts were loud and sexual in nature.
…so hot. He's concentrating so hard on that drawing. I bet he's that focused as a lover. I just know that he could make it good.
She obviously didn't realize that Peter could hear her thoughts. She probably thought that he could only read minds when he tried to, not realizing that when she was thinking so loudly that it was hard to tune her out.
Peter looked up and met Claire's eyes. She blushed slightly at having been caught staring, but otherwise didn't move.
"Claire," Peter called out, standing and moving to the staircase. "I was just going to come find you."
"Really? You were?" Claire hopefully asked. "Is it about your drawing?"
"Um, no. There was something else that I wanted to talk to you about." He started up the stairs, going past her and indicating that she should follow. "In private." Peter cringed as her thoughts got excited and giddy at that last remark.
Private? You don't think…? No, of course not. He only sees you as a niece now, nothing else. But maybe?
Peter ushered Claire into her bedroom and closed the door, but didn't lock it. Claire stood in the middle of the room looking nervous.
"Claire, this has got to stop," Peter said without preamble.
Claire looked at him with wide, scared eyes. She calmly asked, "What has to stop?" Even though she was thinking: Oh God, he knows! Has he been able to hear my thoughts all this time? Ohgodohgodohgod.
"You can't be thinking about me like that," Peter said, answering both her questions.
Claire turned away from Peter and slowly walked over to sit on the bed. "I can't help it," she whined.
"You've got to try," Peter said, crossing to stand before her.
"I have!" Claire met Peter's eyes. "I have tried so hard to forget what it was like to kiss you and to wake up in your arms. You have no idea how hard it has been for me to live under this roof with you and pretend that we're just normal family members when all I want to do is pull you into dark corners and kiss you."
Peter's eyes closed and he groaned. "Claire," he whimpered, "you can't say things like that."
"Why not?" Claire asked, standing up, their bodies nearly touching now. "Because it's wrong or because you want it too?"
Peter looked down into Claire's too-close face. "I want it too," he admitted quietly.
Claire licked her lips, looking hopefully at Peter's mouth. Peter started to sway towards her, drawn to those perfect lips, but forced himself to turn away.
"We can't," he said, firmly. "Claire, you know why we can't. I'm your uncle--"
"Don't," Claire snapped. "Don't say that. I don't care! You don't feel like an uncle. I can't feel the same way about you that I do about my mom's brother. I don't know if it's because we weren't raised together, or because you're only ten years older than me, or if it's because you saved my life. All I know is that I can't stop thinking about that night in Kermit."
Peter's hands came up to cup her face. "God, Claire." His thumbs ran over her soft cheeks and down to trace her plump lips. He swallowed hard and felt his control slipping. He telekinetically locked the door as he slid his hands into Claire's hair and pulled her into a passionate kiss.
Yes! Claire mentally shouted, winding her arms around Peter's back, pulling him closer, kissing him back just as passionately.
Peter was grateful that Claire didn't have his telepathic abilities at that moment, because as he kissed her with months of suppressed passion, he was calling himself all kinds of foul names. He knew it was wrong. Pervert. He knew that she was only seventeen. Illegal. He knew that she was technically his brother's daughter. Incest. He also knew that with Claire in his arms, he couldn't be bothered to care anymore. Love-Lust-Perfect. It just felt too good having Claire pressing her lithe body against his, kissing him with every ounce of passion that he was showing her.
Slowly, Peter began to walk Claire back towards the bed. It was only a few paces behind them, and Peter continued to kiss Claire as he laid her down. She giggled and scooted back, making herself comfortable, patting the space next to her in invitation.
Peter tore off his shirt and crawled onto the bed, naked desire in his eyes as he made his way to his temptress.
Claire knelt up, licking her lips as her hands reached for Peter. She sighed as her hands made contact with his bare flesh, eagerly running over his long torso, exploring every inch with her fingers. Peter groaned and sat on his heels, reaching up to push his hair out of his eyes, letting his head fall back.
With his eyes closed, Peter didn't see Claire lean towards him. So he jumped a little when he felt first her hair and then her lips against his belly. Her hands had settled on his hips, holding them both steady as she placed butterfly kisses over his abs, then up over his pecs and collarbone. She nervously flicked at his nipples with her tongue before quickly moving on, her thoughts nervous and unsure.
Peter mentally chuckled at that, and then moaned aloud when her hands slid down to squeeze his ass, almost in a movement of compensation for her moments-earlier hesitation. His hips thrust forward when she squeezed his ass and he felt himself harden more at the rough treatment.
No longer content to be idle, Peter pulled Claire's face up to meet his lips. He kissed her as his fingers attacked the buttons of her blouse. She helped him get the virginal white garment off, as well as the lacy white bra she wore beneath. She always wore sexy lingerie these days, in hopes of something like this happening. She didn't want to be caught unprepared, after all.
Peter lowered Claire back down on the bed, allowing their chests to rub against each other's. He kissed his way down her neck, unhurriedly working his way towards her breasts.
"Peter," she mewled, arching up to meet his eager mouth.
As he feasted on her ripe breasts, Peter's hands slid down to her hips, intent on removing her pants. But when he brushed his hand across the front of her pants, it was smooth – no zipper.
He pulled back to look at what his hand had felt, or rather not felt, a frown creasing his forehead.
"What's the matter?" Claire asked, leaning up on her elbows.
Peter ran his fingers over the front of her pants again. "How do I get this off?"
Claire giggled and slid one of his hands beneath her. "It's in the back," she informed him.
"Stupid designer clothes," Peter muttered as he returned his attention to her breasts. Claire lifted her hips to make it easier for Peter to unzip and remove the rest of her clothing.
When she was completely naked, she attacked Peter's pants, grateful that at least his still fastened in the front. He pulled back from Claire only long enough to kick his way out of his pants and boxers, then rolled completely on top of Claire.
Her hands explored as much of his body as she could reach as they hungrily kissed again. Over his back and buttocks, into his hair, down his chest, and finally she took his cock in her hand, lightly stroking him.
"Oh, God, Claire," Peter groaned, dropping his head to her shoulder.
"Does this feel good?" she needlessly asked.
"You have no idea how good it feels," Peter told her.
"I want to know," she said. "I want you inside me. Please, Peter."
A sobering thought occurred to Peter. "Oh, shit. I don't have anything."
"What do you mean?" Claire asked.
Peter forced himself to sit back. "Protection," Peter clarified. "Condoms. I don't have any with me. I never expected to be in this situation."
"Oh, is that all you're worried about?" Claire asked. She rolled to the far side of her bed and bent over the side to look under the bed, giving Peter a wonderful view of her bare ass. He could hear her rummaging through a box before she rolled over, a triumphant grin on her face.
"I was taught always to be prepared, for anything," she proudly said.
Peter sighed with relief. Now that he'd committed himself to sleeping with Claire, he really hadn't wanted to stop. "Thank goodness for that," he said.
Claire crawled back over to Peter and knelt before him. She waived off Peter's attempt to take the condom, instead opening the packet and sheathing him herself.
The feel of her hands on his sensitive cock, when he was so wound up, nearly sent Peter over the edge. He captured her hands and encouraged her to lie back down. Claire smiled as she did, opening her legs in invitation.
Peter took her invitation and settled himself above her. He released one of her hands to guide himself to her entrance.
"Last chance to change your mind," he warned her.
"Peter, I have wanted this since I met you. Please don't make me wait any longer," Claire said, lifting her hips to rub against him.
"No more waiting," Peter promised, sliding home.
They both moaned at the sensation of how right, how good it felt to have Peter buried fully inside Claire. It was everything that they had dreamed of, and more.
Claire leaned up to kiss Peter as he began to move. Words were no longer needed as they let their bodies express their desires. All of the worrying, all of the angst and guilt melted away under the gentle thrust of Peter's hips, and in the answering lift of Claire's.
Bliss. Perfection. So good. PeterPeterPeterPeter, were the thoughts going through Claire's mind. It wasn't enough. It was too much.
She could hardly believe that it was really happening. This wasn't another one of her dreams. It wasn't another fantasy. It was real. Peter was real, and he was loving her the way that she wanted to be loved by him.
"Love you," she murmured against his lips. "I love you so much, Peter."
"God, Claire, I love you too," he said.
He changed the angle of his penetration, knowing he'd gotten the angle right when he heard Claire's thoughts scream in pleasure.
"Oh, there, right there," she keened aloud.
Claire's nails ran light tracks in his back that he could feel healing as soon as they formed. It left behind an oddly pleasurable tingling sensation that went straight to his cock. He knew that he wasn't going to be able to last much longer.
Their mouths found each other again as Peter's thumb brushed against her clit. She bucked up, driving him deeper into her as she squealed into his mouth.
So close. Almost there. Almost…
"Pee--" she keened, unable to even finish calling out his name as her orgasm crashed over her. She felt her entire body clench and spasm, digging her nails hard enough into his back to draw blood.
Peter cried out in shock, the bite of her nails and the clench of her inner muscles driving him to the brink.
"I love you, Claire," he bit out as he gave into sensation and let himself go.
"I love you too," Claire said, running soothing hands over his back, not caring that she was crushed beneath his collapsed weight.
When Peter pulled back enough to meet her eyes, she said, "I'm in love with you."
"Me too," Peter admitted. He huffed out a laugh. "I started falling for you on that trip to Kermit and I never stopped. No matter how hard I tried."
"What now?" Claire asked.
Peter sighed and disentangled himself from her body. He telekinetically sent the used condom to her trash bin and lay next to her, propped up on one elbow.
"Now we do our best to pretend to the family that nothing has changed between us," Peter said, running his fingers through her sweat-dampened hair.
"And when we're alone?" she nervously asked.
"We do this as often as possible," Peter said, heat in his eyes, despite their recent exertions.
"Really?" Claire hopefully asked. "You're not going to say that this was a one-time thing?"
"How could I deny us anymore?" Peter asked in turn. "Sex has never felt so right as it did with you. I don't want to be miserable and frustrated anymore. Do you?"
"No! Most definitely not," Claire said. "I just want to be with you."
"We'll have to be careful," Peter cautioned. "The family can't find out."
"No kidding," Claire said. "I know that we can be discreet. It'll be worth it, to be with you, like this. And just think, you've got quite a few abilities that will make sneaking around easier."
"I don't think that I'm supposed to be using my gifts like that," Peter said, laughing.
"Claude uses his to steal," Claire countered. "I think this'll be a much better use of being invisible."
"Have you thought about us fooling around while we were invisible?" Peter asked.
"Well, one of us was," Claire admitted with a blush.
"My kinky little niece," Peter cooed, tickling Claire.
"Please, don't use the 'n' word when we're naked," Claire said through her laughter.
"So long as you don't use the 'u' one," Peter agreed. "Doesn't mean you're not kinky."
"Never claimed that I wasn't," Claire smirked.
"You're going to be the death of me," Peter mumbled.
"Good thing we can't die," Claire said, pulling him down for a kiss.