Title: Accidental Knowledge
Author: Elisabeth
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Peter/Claire
Summary: Peter's never been happier for his unique ability.
Spoilers: Nothing specific, but through Unexpected to be safe. Takes place in the not-too-distant future.
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Tim Kring et al. Except that in my world, no one has ever thought of making Peter and Claire related.
Feedback: Yes please! It makes me happy and keeps me writing, especially new pairings.
Author's note: I blame frellingblonde (who also beta'd) and nessataleweaver for inspiring this story.


Accidental Knowledge

The apartment door slammed, startling Peter out of his meditative state. Claude had instructed him to spend a quiet hour every day to try to center himself and get in touch with each of the powers he'd come across in a safe environment.

He mentally smirked at even thinking of the term 'instructed' and Claude in the same sentence. Claude actually said something along the lines of "You're the sensitive type. Go shut yourself in a dark room with incense and new age music for all I care. The important thing is to connect with your powers."

He was just glad that he was focusing on that cop's telepathy instead of Nathan's ability to fly.

He could hear Claire banging around in the kitchen. She was stomping around, closing cabinet doors and drawers harder than necessary. He considered going out to see what was wrong, but was soon glad that he didn't.

"Goddamn hormones." He clearly heard Claire say. Only he realized that she must not have spoken aloud, but thought the words.

Out in the living room, Claire was sitting on the couch, her head resting against the back, her eyes squeezed shut in frustration.

Everywhere that she had gone today, everything that she had done, seemed to conspire against her. In her sociology class they started discussing the mating habits of various cultures. Then she went shopping and all she seemed to notice were sales for sexy lingerie.

She wondered how the universe knew that she'd woken from yet another erotic dream of Peter this morning and hadn't had time to relieve that particular itch before she'd had to start her day.

She'd found herself returning to the dream throughout her class, fantasizing that Peter would pull her out of class for a quickie in an unused classroom. At the lingerie store she'd tried on several bra and panty combinations, trying to figure out which Peter would like best.

Every ad she'd seen on her way home was of some good looking model half dressed or in a sexy outfit, regardless of what they were advertising. Well, that or of Nathan, but he only reminded her of Peter, too.

By the time she got home, she felt like she was going to jump out of her skin. Every hair on her body felt like it was standing on end. The slightest breeze sent a shiver of lust down her spine.

She was grateful that it appeared that Peter wasn't home. With all of the noise she'd made it would have drawn him out if he had been home. Secure in the knowledge that she was alone, Claire allowed her hands to wander over her body.

She let her mind wander as her fingers slid over her breasts on top of her shirt. She imagined Peter quickly walking from the bathroom to his bedroom wrapped in nothing in a towel.

Peter should definitely go around in a towel more often, she thought. She moaned quietly as she pinched her nipple.

Her other hand slid down her belly, pulling her top up enough to lightly stroke the bare skin above her pants with her nails. She imagined Peter's lips caressing her where she touched herself - butterfly kisses and wet, licking kisses.

Yes, touch me, Peter. Kiss me, caress me, finger me, lick me, fuck me. Please! she cried out in her mind.

Peter sat, staring at the closed door, his mouth hanging open. Claire wanted him?

He heard her moan again - aloud and in his head.

He didn't know what to do. It was wrong for him to listen in when she was so clearly aroused. But he couldn't go out there. What if she was...touching herself. He couldn't interrupt that. She'd be embarrassed, for one thing. Or he might take over for her.

No, he couldn't do that. Could he? She obviously wanted him.

He has wanted her practically since the moment he met her two years ago. This past year of living in the same apartment has been the sweetest form of torture he has ever known. All of the friendly flirting, all of the late nights when they've stayed curled up on the couch talking in the dark, the countless times that they'd accidentally seen each other in states of near undress. He'd never been so attracted to someone before.

And until today he'd thought that it was one sided.

Not enough. Never enough. He heard Claire whimper in his head.

Coming to a decision, Peter stood and grabbed his coat and keys as quietly as he could. He concentrated, focusing on D.L. and stepped through the walls until he was standing in the hallway outside of his apartment door. He purposely jangled his keys as he slid the right one into the lock.

Claire was flushed when Peter entered the apartment, but he pretended not to notice.

"Hey, you're home," she said a little breathlessly.

"Yeah, I was up on the roof working on my powers," he said. Only partially lying.

"That's good," she said, trying to subtly adjust her clothing and smooth her hair. "Who were you doing today?"

Peter resisted smirking at her phrasing. You, soon. he thought.

"Matt," he told her, giving her a pointed look.

"Oh, really?" she squeaked. Did he...Could he hear my thoughts, all the way down here?

"Yes, really. And yes," he said, his voice growing deeper with each confession. He'd slowly been crossing the room and now stood in front of Claire, who was still seated on the couch.

Claire could feel her skin flush with embarrassment. Oh, God. He knows! she thought, forgetting that he could probably still hear her thoughts.

Squatting in front of her, Peter rested his hands on either side of her body, nearly touching her. "Are you still feeling frustrated?" he huskily whispered.

Claire blinked at him, hardly believing her ears. She met his eyes and what she saw made her breath hitch. Lust, undeniable lust, for her.

"Always," she admitted, shifting uncomfortably to demonstrate her point.

"I'm sorry. If you've been even half as frustrated as I've been, it must have been awful for you," he told her.

"Awful doesn't even begin to cover it. A-are you going to do something about it?" She found herself asking.

"Only if you'll let me," Peter answered, praying that she wouldn't turn him down.

Instead of answering him, Claire reached out and grabbed his shirt, pulling him into a passionate kiss. It was nothing like she'd imagined her first kiss would be like with Peter, but she was too horny to care right now. This was what she wanted right now, what she needed. Hungry, wet, passionate kisses that left her breathless and wanting more.

Peter kissed her back with every bit of hunger as she kissed him. Teeth-knocking, tongue-filled kisses, and he couldn't get enough of her. He shed his jacket and allowed his concentration to leave her just long enough to mentally unbutton his shirt and send it off his body. When Claire's hands began to run over his naked chest he was grateful that he'd forgotten to wear an undershirt today.

"Neat trick," Claire panted between kisses.

Peter's hands were on her hips and he smirked as he allowed his thoughts to pull her top over her head and unclasp her bra, sending both to the floor behind the couch, his hands never leaving her body.

"Very neat trick," she gasped as he took one of her sensitive nipples in his mouth. Her fingers ran through his hair as they'd longed to do for too long now.

Not wanting him to divert his attention from his current task, she trailed her hands down his body to unbutton and unzip his pants, pushing them as far down his hips, along with his boxers, as she could reach. She eagerly took his ready cock in her hot little hands and began to stroke him, learning him in a whole new way.

Peter groaned against her flesh and worked his way down her body until he could remove her jeans and panties - the old fashioned way.

He urged her closer to the edge of the couch, smiled wickedly up at her before diving for her clit. From where he was, he couldn't tell if the Yes! he heard was in his head or with his ears, but he couldn't care less. He was pleasing her, and that was all that mattered.

One finger slowly pressed inside her, soon joined by a second. Claire bucked and keened loudly, encouraging him with her voice and her body.

"Now, inside me now," she begged. Please.

With what little coherent thought that he had left, Peter quickly located the box of condoms in his nightstand drawer and telekinetically brought them to him. He quickly slid one on and positioned himself.

"Are you sure?" he forced himself to ask.

"Are you kidding?" Claire incredulously asked. I love you.

Peter's eyes widened at what he heard her think. He nodded and pressed forward, slightly surprised when he slid in to the hilt. He paused, buried deep inside her, his forehead pressed against hers.

"I love you, too," he whispered against her lips, kissing her before she could respond.

Claire whimpered, her arms and legs wrapping tightly around Peter's body, pressing herself as close to him as possible. She rolled her hips and together they began to move. Gone was the frantic pace they'd started with, replaced with a much more intense passion.

Peter moved inside her with long, firm strokes, angling himself to brush against her clit with each stroke. Claire's face was buried in his neck and he hoped that he could resist using her power long enough to sport the hickey she seemed determined to leave.

Close. Peter heard Claire think. Need more.

She pulled back, knowing he'd heard her thoughts. Peter nodded and with a hand behind her back, helped her to recline on the couch. With both hands on her hips, Peter began to speed up, pounding into Claire, no longer holding back.

Claire began to babble, both aloud and in Peter's head, wordless exclamations of her pleasure.

Once he had his rhythm, Peter allowed one hand to slide down so that he could stroke her clit with his thumb. Two strokes later he felt Claire's entire body tense as her orgasm washed over her.

Peter choked out her name as he was squeezed in her impossible tightness and finally allowed himself the release he'd been fighting since he'd entered her.

They remained slumped together for several minutes, both recovering from the intensity of their passion.

With a groan, Peter withdrew from Claire's body. He mentally called one of the small trash bins from somewhere in the apartment to toss the condom in before he pulled himself onto the couch, his knees creaking.

Claire snuggled into his side, feeling relaxed and sated for the first time in a long time.

Running her fingers over his chest, she said, "So I guess this attraction isn't as one sided as I thought."

Tipping her face up so that he could look in her eyes, Peter told her, "I meant what I said. I love you, Claire. I've been in love with you for a long time."

"I love you, too, Peter," Claire said.

The End

 

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