Title: Pirates of New York
Author: Elisabeth
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Peter/Claire
Summary: Halloween is a time to dress up, go out, and let your true self out to play.
Spoilers: Nothing specific. Claire is in college, she and Peter are related but dating, so it's fictional incest.
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.
Author's note: Written for the "______ in public" challenge at mature_heroes
Dedication: Happy belated birthday eowyn_girl!
Pirates of New York
"You want to do this here?" Peter nervously asked.
Claire rolled her eyes. "It's a party, Peter. You're supposed to dance at a party."
"But we don't dance in public," Peter reminded her. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching before resting a hand on her waist. "What if someone catches on?"
"You worry too much," Claire said. She took his hand and dragged him onto the dance floor, just as a slow song began to play.
It was Halloween and Claire was a freshman at NYU. The party was being held in her dorm common room.
Peter had been reluctant to go with Claire, but she'd pouted and told him that she already had the perfect costumes in mind. She'd also threatened to withhold sex if he refused to go. Peter relented.
The costumes turned out to be of Will Turner and Elizabeth Swan from Pirates of the Caribbean - third movie for him, first for her.
He wore black pants, a loose blood red shirt open halfway down his chest, one of Hiro's extra swords, and a long-haired wig - although his hair was almost as long as the wig lately. Claire had even enlisted a theatre friend to add a fake scar to his face.
Claire was dressed in a beautiful faux-corseted 18 th century dress. The dress was low-cut, showing a pleasing amount of cleavage, and fell to the floor. Claire had complained that it was difficult finding a dress for someone of her limited stature, but she'd been determined. Her hair was swept up with a few ringlets teasing her neck.
As the slow song turned into a slightly faster one, Claire stayed pressed against Peter as she moved to the music. Peter was barely moving at all as he put all his energy into not becoming aroused by Claire's sensual dance.
She turned around, facing away from him, and seemed to be pressed even tighter against him now. Peter rested his hands on her hips and knew she was trying to kill him.
"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?" he whispered in her ear.
Claire saucily swiveled her hips against his burgeoning erection and grinned up at him over her shoulder. "Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea."
"People are going to get suspicious," Peter hissed. "This isn't how an uncle and niece should be dancing."
Claire turned back around, but kept her body pressed against Peter. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up to speak in his ear. "Nobody here knows that we're related. They're all so used to seeing us together that I know they all think you're my boyfriend, and I haven't done anything to convince them otherwise. So just relax and have fun."
"What if someone wants to meet me?" Peter asked.
Claire rolled her eyes, growing tired of this debate. "Then I'll say that you're Peter. Let them think what they want about what we are to each other. No one will know the truth. Now shut up and dance."
As Claire resumed writhing against Peter, he groaned and suggested, "Why don't we just go back up to your room instead?"
"Can't," Claire said, grabbing his ass and pulling him closer. "My roommate's sick."
"You're such a tease, you know that," Peter complained. He was hard and wanted to get Claire alone to fuck her. What did she expect when she'd been working so hard to keep him aroused? He had no doubt that that had been her plan all along.
"We'll see about that." Claire looked around the room, pretending to think about where they could go. She got a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Come with me."
"Where are we going?" Peter asked as Claire led him by the hand to a door marked Exit. The sign next to the door labeled it as a stairwell. When she didn't answer him, he asked again, "Claire, where are you taking me?"
Claire led him down one flight of stairs to a small alcove. Peter idly noticed there was a janitorial closet and thought she was taking him in there, but instead of opening the door she simply pulled him down into a passionate kiss.
Surprised by the intensity of the kiss, Peter wholly gave in to it. He backed Claire up against the wall and plundered her mouth with his tongue. The sound of laughter accompanied by music from the party shocked Peter into pulling away.
"We can't do this here," Peter protested, not pulling any farther away from her.
"Of course we can," Claire said, fingers opening Peter's belt and pants. Her small hand slid in to wrap around his cock. "No one ever comes down here."
"What if someone else gets the same idea you had? You're not the only one with a roommate."
"Then they'll get the show of their life," Claire smirked.
"We can go back to my apartment," Peter suggested, moaning as Claire ran her thumb over the head of his cock.
"I can't wait that long," Claire mewled. "You have no idea how incredibly sexy you look in that outfit, do you?"
Peter met her eyes, trying to think past his arousal. "Can't be as hot as you look in that dress."
"Oh no, you definitely win the award for sexiest costume tonight. Although..." Claire took one of Peter's hands and used it to help her pull her long dress up around her waist. She brought it up between her thighs and Peter gasped at what he felt, or rather didn't feel. Glancing down to confirm what his hand was already telling him, Peter saw that Claire wasn't wearing panties beneath her dress. She only wore a garter belt and stockings.
"You are a naughty girl," Peter huskily told her.
"Let's just say that I had a feeling that this would happen," Claire said. She released her dress, knowing Peter's hand would keep it from falling completely back to the floor, and used both hands to lower his pants to his thighs.
Peter slid a finger inside her, confirming what he'd guessed. "You're so wet," he whispered against her neck.
"All for you, lover," Claire said, pulling him closer. "I can't wait any longer, Peter."
"Me either," he agreed. He easily lifted her, angling her body so that her back was pressed against the wall as he lowered her onto his cock. Claire wrapped her legs around his back, helping to pull him deep inside her.
Their mouths crashed together as Peter began a brutal rhythm. He braced his hands against the wall as he slammed into Claire again and again. He could feel her heels bouncing against his ass; no, not bouncing, pulling him in, encouraging the pace.
"More," Claire breathed against his lips. "Need this. Need you."
"You're incredible," Peter groaned. "Love this. Love you."
"Lo-ve you, too," Claire panted.
Peter dropped his head to kiss her neck, moving down to kiss her breasts, or at least the part he could reach. The dress came up far enough that he wouldn't be able to easily free them, but he could pay homage to the flesh he could reach.
He could feel his balls tightening and muttered, "Close, so close," against her chest.
"Mmm, me too," Claire said.
Peter moved his hands to press her hips against the wall, preventing her from moving. She groaned in frustration, then again as Peter adjusted the angle of his thrusts so that he brushed against her clit.
Claire kissed him; fucking his mouth with her tongue at the same frantic pace that Peter fucked her. Her hands slid down the back of his shirt and she dug her nails into his skin as she came hard around him.
The combination of the pain from Claire's nails and the clenching of her vaginal muscles around him sent Peter spiraling into his own release. He pumped into her erratically until he was spent, then simply leaned against her, grateful for the wall that supported them.
As Peter slid out of Claire and carefully set her back on her feet, she pulled a handkerchief from her bodice and used it to clean herself up.
"You thought of everything," Peter mused as he straightened his own clothing.
"I tried to," Claire said.
"I'm surprised you risked going without panties with a rented dress," Peter commented.
"Oh, it's not rented." Peter quirked an eyebrow in question. "I bought these for us."
"They probably cost a fortune. You shouldn't have done that," Peter protested.
"Oh, come on, with the money that Nathan has been giving me I could easily afford them. Besides, I figured we might want to wear them again at some point."
Peter laughed. "Developing a taste for role playing?"
"Whatever do you mean, sir?" Claire said, affecting an English accent.
Peter pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. "Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean, my dear. What say you to going searching for hidden treasure?"
"I thought we'd already established that the treasure wasn't so hidden," Claire said.
"Ah, but we must thoroughly investigate the treasure that has been found," Peter said, leading Claire towards the stairs.
"I believe that I am amenable to that suggestion," Claire said. "Lead on, good sir."
"To my apartment?" Peter suggested.
"Yes, please," Claire agreed.
Peter pulled Claire close and teleported them to his bedroom.
Claire giggled as they materialized next to Peter's bed. "Now why didn't you just do that in the first place?"
"Someone had me a little too distracted to think of it," Peter replied, running his hands over Claire's body. He turned her around and began to open the many buttons that ran down her back.
"Mmm," Claire murmured when she felt Peter's lips against her neck and shoulders. "Was it a good distraction?"
"It was an incredible distraction," Peter said.
He sighed with relief when the last button was freed and Claire helped him to remove the dress, leaving her clad in only a bustier, garter belt and stockings. Peter swallowed thickly around the sudden lump in his throat, his breath taken away by the vixen standing before him.
"What did I do to deserve you?" he muttered to himself.
Claire sauntered closer to Peter. "You saved me. You saved the world," she reminded him. She removed the sword belt, setting it carefully aside, before opening the remaining buttons of his shirt and slowly sliding it off his sculpted body. She worked on opening his belt and pants as Peter tried to kick off his boots. Working together, they got him down to his black silk boxers.
They seemed to reach for each other at the same time, falling into the other's arms as their lips met in a hungry kiss. Claire's hands slid up his face to remove the wig, tossing it aside so that she could run her fingers through the unruly hair she loved.
Peter walked them backwards until Claire's legs bumped into the side of the bed, causing her to sit. She scooted back on the bed as Peter crawled over her, his eyes glazed over with passion.
"You were playing a dangerous game tonight," Peter said, running his hands over Claire's stocking-clad legs. His hands ran under her back and Claire sat forward so that he could remove the bustier.
"Don't even try to tell me that you didn't like it," Claire retorted, running her hands over his chest.
"Oh, I liked it. I just wasn't expecting it. We need to be careful, Claire," Peter insisted. "Especially in public. We can't have a repeat performance of what happened in the stairwell."
Claire pouted. "I know. Blame it on the outfits. I just wanted a chance for us to be like a normal couple. Just Peter and Claire, lovers. Not secret lovers, incestuous lovers."
Peter gently kissed her. "I know, honey. I hate the fact that we have to sneak around too."
"Halloween is a night to be someone you're not," Claire said. "Let's just pretend we're a regular couple."
"We already do what most normal couples do," Peter pointed out, sliding out of his boxers.
"Then let's do it again," Claire said. She flipped Peter onto his back, catching him by surprise. She quickly straddled his hips and easily slid him inside her still-wet core.
"God, Claire," Peter groaned. Instinctively he pressed his hips up, driving himself deeper inside her. His hands fell to her hips, helping her to raise and lower herself on him.
Claire moaned, loving how far Peter seemed to reach inside her when they were like this. Whenever she thought about how they weren't supposed to be together, all she had to do was think of how it felt when he was inside her and she knew that it didn't matter because it felt too good, too right, when they were like this.
Peter sat up to take one of Claire's breasts between his lips. He teased her hardened nipples, making sure to pay them equal attention. His arms wrapped around Claire's back, holding her tightly to him.
Claire encouraged Peter to lie back, following him down so that he wouldn't have to stop what he was doing to her breasts. She braced her hands on either side of his head, angling her hips so that her clit brushed against the base of his cock on every stroke.
Her breath hitched, alerting her to the immediacy of her climax. She pulled Peter's mouth back to hers, needing that connection to push her over the edge.
Peter could feel the beginning fluttering of her inner muscles around him and he rocked up into her even harder than before. He rolled them, barely managing to stay on the bed, and pounded into Claire. She cried out, her nails leaving momentary long red welts on his back as she was pushed over the edge, calling out his name.
"Claire," he choked out, overcome by the feeling of her coming around him. Her climax triggered his own and he let himself go.
He barely managed to flop next to Claire on the bed when his body was finally spent. He lazily pulled her against his body, holding her close.
"I love you, Claire," he whispered against her hair.
"I love you, too, Peter," she said, looking up to meet his eyes.
Peter bent his head to slowly kiss her, simply enjoying the taste and feel of her against his lips.
"Can you stay the night?" Peter asked between kisses.
"Yeah, I told my roommate that I'd probably crash here so that I wouldn't wake her up after the party," Claire said.
"Good," Peter said. "I wasn't ready to let you go."
"You're never going to have to let me go," Claire promised.
The End
Copyright© June 2007