Heroes Fan Fiction ❯ Happy F-ing Valentine's Day ❯ Oneshot ( Chapter 1 )

AN: Thank you to apckrfan for the beta job! Written for `cheer and fly's “Valentine's Day” challenge at Livejournal

 

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Happy F-ing Valentine's Day

The moment Claire downed the shot of 1800, she felt her ears ring, her eyes water, and her throat burn like a firestorm. She blinked away the tears, licking her lips and slamming the glass onto the table.

“Should you really be drinking this stuff?” Nathan asked her, slightly inebriated but well enough to squeeze in a fatherly lecture.

Claire exhaled a heavy breath, zoning out and looking forward. Her head snapped forward, and she smacked her lips hard. “It's okay. I have a high tolerance for alcohol.”

Nathan still watched her with doubt. “You know, I don't normally contribute to underage drinking.”

Claire shrugged, brushing off his poor paternal attempts. “No one's going to know. I could walk out this door right now and my blood level would be clear.”

Nathan paused, nodding slowly and trying to understand. “Ah. Your powers.”

Claire shrugged again, looking ahead at the wall mournfully. She sighed audibly. “I miss Peter.”

Nathan grunted in affirmation next to her. He took a sip of Crown on the rocks. “Can't be helped. He's trying to find that Caitlin woman.”

He saw Claire frown, and he could have sworn he heard her whisper `hussy' under her breath.

“Claire, is there something you want to tell me?” he asked finally, and Claire was slow to answer.

“It's nothing.” She still looked depressed, and when the vigor returned to her eyes, she ended up downing another shot.

“Shouldn't you be with your boyfriend and not your drunk `bio-dad' on Valentine's Day?” he asked. She turned to him, eyes brewing with a storm.

“I dumped him a long time ago, before you were brought back to life,” Claire snapped.

Nathan looked at her with sympathy. “Oh. Well,” he said, sighing before he took another drink. He lifted the glass for a toast. “Thanks for that. It's not every day you survive an assassination attempt planned by your own mother. Happy fucking Valentine's day.” Then, he downed the rest of his glass.

Claire pouted. “Valentine's day sucks.”

Nathan snorted. “Drink up, kid. It'll make you feel better.” He moved from his seat, and then returned with a handful of bottles that nearly cleaned out his liquor cabinet.

Claire set her eyes on the unopened bottle of Captain Morgan.

--

The Captain Morgan made her giggle. Not only that, but she couldn't stop looking over at Nathan - and then giggling. He was not amused. He glared at her a few times, rolled his eyes, and pursed his lips in frustration.

“What's so damned funny?” he asked, exasperated.

“Nothing,” she choked out after a fit of giggles. The Captain Morgan was almost gone. She took another swig from the bottle.

She laughed again, reeling forward. She banged her head on the table, which made Nathan jump in his seat. “Ow.”

Then she snapped up straight in the chair, her eyes widening. “I'm okay.”

“Jesus, Claire,” Nathan said, obviously freaked by her behavior. “What's wrong with you?”

“I'm hot,” she said bluntly, which made Nathan blanch. She stared at a chip in the table. She pouted. “And horny.”

“Christ!” Nathan stood up from his seat, backing away from her. “God, don't tell me that! Would you tell Peter something like that? Sheesh.” He rubbed his forehead. “I gotta stop drinking. You have to go home. This is…”

Claire looked up at him in confusion. “Why? I just got here.”

“And why are you here by the way?” Nathan was getting meaner. “You show up on my doorstep, crying and looking for Peter. When I told you to go home because he wasn't here, you come in anyway.”

She pointed a finger at him. “Ah! But you never kicked me out.”

Nathan pursed his lips. “I should have.”

“But you didn't. Admit it. You needed someone to spend this holiday with too,” Claire countered.

Nathan put his hands on his hips, turning away and sighing with impatience. “This is crazy. I'm calling Bennet right now.”

As he was about to stumble over to the phone, Claire intercepted him, grabbing the receiver from his hand.

“No! You can't!” she pleaded, desperate to stop him. He appeared stunned from her reaction.

“Why the hell not? Look at us, I'm drinking with my underage teenage daughter, who is pining away for my missing brother, and telling me that she's horny. For God's sake, those three things couldn't be more screwed up, and here I am letting it happen.” He grabbed the phone away from her grasp, and she looked at him with terror in her eyes.

She began to cry, and Nathan frowned, sighing with annoyance. “Please,” Claire said. “They don't know I'm here.”

“What?” Nathan crowed at her, slamming down the phone. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her lightly. “You ran away? What were you thinking, Claire? Your family must be worried sick.”

“Well, my dad isn't even there any more. He left with the Company,” she sobbed, looking into his eyes. He relaxed under her gaze. “I needed you.”

“But Peter,” he protested. Claire shook her head.

“Peter's not here. I need you, Nathan,” she said, falling against his chest. Nathan froze, and then he slowly snaked his arms around her, bringing her into an embrace. She felt warm in his arms and snuggled a little closer.

The closeness must have startled him, so he broke from her arms and sat back down at the table. Claire watched him hopefully.

“So… you're not going to make me go back?” she asked.

Nathan shrugged. “I'm not dealing with this right now.” He took another drink. “You go when you want, Claire.”

Suddenly, Claire squealed, sitting in the seat next to him. She grabbed the half-full Whiskey bottle from Nathan's hands, taking a swig. She grinned at him playfully, reveling in the look of awe on his face.

“Unbelievable,” he scoffed.

--
Claire noticed that the emptier the bottle of Captain Morgan was, the closer she leaned against Nathan on the couch. When and how they got there, she wasn't too clear about. She blinked her blurry eyes, and she realized that her powers were starting to lag behind, not fast enough to dispel the alcohol from her blood.

She groaned, and Nathan grunted next to her. She could tell that he was really drunk now. She glanced over at him, watching as he tried to keep his head from leaning back into the couch.

“This is so wrong. We shouldn't be drinking together,” he whined.

“Keep talking; you're starting to sound like Peter,” Claire said.

Nathan laughed, taking a weak sip of his whiskey on the rocks, which was starting to dilute as the ice cubes began to melt. He let out a raspy cough. “I'm almost afraid to ask…” He paused, but she gave him her full attention. “But I wonder about the nature of your relationship with my brother.” He turned to her, catching her gaze. For a drunk, he looked serious. “You two are closer than is comfortable.” He looked away then and sighed. He stared into his glass, plopping it down into his lap.

Silence edged between them again. Finally, Claire answered, “It can't be explained in words. You don't know what it feels like to know someone who can save you just by touching you, knowing you can't repay them in the wrong and taboo way you want to.” She let out a forlorn sigh, her last words choked in a mangled whisper. “You don't know…”

She watched as Nathan clenched his jaw, still looking ahead with his dark, unreadable eyes. There was a mystery there that mimicked Peter's eyes; not as soft yet still forbidden and coarse.

“You probably wouldn't believe me Claire, if I told you that I did I understand.” He met her eyes again, and she leaned close to his face, trying to read his expression for any lies. Nathan had been so good at telling lies to the point where he believed them himself. But something changed. Ever since the day after the Kirby Plaza explosion, everything was different about him. He was melancholy and pensive and no longer ruthless and arrogant. And despite his addictions and struggles, he cared. He had a newfound view of life, whether dark or light, he always leaned toward the light no matter how much it pained him.

Claire felt entranced, and though she didn't completely understand him, she knew he believed her. She let out a sigh of relief because she didn't know how to tell him about her and Peter but she felt that now he knew enough. And he didn't say anything or judge her, and his unspoken affirmation was the reassurance she needed.

With that in mind, her emotions took over. She suspected that so did the booze. She reached out a hand and caressed his face, tracing her fingers over a new beard forming over his cheeks and jaw.

Nathan tensed under her touch. He looked at her inquisitively. “Claire, what are you …?”

“The first memory I have of you is when you were paying off Meredith so that you couldn't deal with me. At that moment, I hated you. I couldn't believe that after all my searching for my real parents; my real father would deny me…” Her touch became softer, her hands falling to his chest.

“Claire…” he said, but she ignored him, only coming closer. He jumped up from the couch, avoiding her. She stood up with him, leaning her body against his. He froze again.

Their eyes met, and Claire felt dizzier than before. She watched his eyes look at her in ways that being sober would never allow. She caught him licking his lips, and then she knew she couldn't avoid this direction. She didn't want to.

“I never want to feel that rejected again.” Her lips trembled, and she looked away. “Peter's really gone, isn't he?”

Nathan shook his head. “Claire, I'm not his substitute.”

She leaned against his chest and looked up. “We're both substitutes, aren't we? You don't have to deny it. I can see it.”

“It's not…” He stuttered, but she moved closer, and when his back met the wall, she couldn't push him any farther. She had him trapped.

He sighed heavily, his arms snaking around her body. “We don't have to do this.” His voice was gentle - fatherly - and she didn't like it. Not now.

“Yes, we do.” She pulled his head down, crushing her lips against his. Immediately he molded into her, delving his tongue in her mouth. She felt her body heat rise, his touch electrifying her nerves. His tongue was coarse, rough and seeking her taste without recourse. She tasted his tongue, he devoured her mouth, and she knew they couldn't go back now.

She felt dazed, and he gripped her arms and spun her around, slamming her against the wall. She jumped up and wrapped her legs tightly around him, squeezing him close to the heat between her legs. He broke from the kiss, tracing his hot tongue down the line of her jaw.

She moaned, and he kept his hands busy, pulling at her clothes. She fisted her fingers in his hair, drawing his mouth into another needy kiss.

His cold hands tugged at her pants, and she threw her head back and cried as she finally felt his flesh against hers.

“Please,” she begged, but he merely shushed in her ear. His breath against her skin made her tingle, and suddenly he was taking it slow, rubbing his cock against her teasingly. She pushed eagerly against him, but he knew what he was doing.

She sighed heavily as he shifted, and she felt his tongue on the tip of her breast, drawing a line of wet heat from one to the other, teasing and nipping her as her body trembled under his touch.

Claire shivered against him, and his tender touches rose fierce, and he drew his mouth away from her breasts and took her mouth again. She felt a hand support her bottom as he shifted their bodies, supporting her weight between him and the wall. Claire bucked eagerly against him, and she stilled with shock and pleasure as she felt his large, rough fingers dip inside her.

“Yes…” she moved against his hand, bouncing over him. He slowed the pace of his fingers, thrusting slow and pulling out all of the way before jamming back into her. She caught him watching her face as she bit her lip and threw her head back to mewl, surrendering to his every touch.

His fingers moved with a rising speed, and as she felt the third one enter her, she howled, her body shuddering over his grasp. She relaxed, still wedged between his support and the wall. He pulled his fingers out of her slowly, and he tasted her. She watched his eyes closely as he drew in her scent, and she grabbed him again for another searing kiss. She made a noise in his mouth as she tasted herself, and his hands turned busy between them.

She broke from his mouth for a cry as he plunged roughly inside her, slamming her against the wall. He thrust into her hard, and his size and rhythm made her feel full. She could not describe the feeling - something she couldn't express in words but never wanted to end. He rammed into her hot and fierce, and the walls shook as they banged against it. Picture frames fell off the walls, and Claire had a second to appreciate the irony of those pictures being of Simon and Monty.

Nathan's fierce and surmounting motions sent away her guilty thoughts of her half brothers. Claire screamed as he began to reach farther inside her, branding himself against her insides. He said her name in a loud growl, pistoning his hips in a rising and continuous drive.

“God, god, yes…” She dug her nails into his shoulders and felt her body tense around him. She gripped him tighter with her legs, drawing him in as much as she could and trying to match his primal speed.

“Claire,” he said tenderly, catching her off guard. She let out a whine, and her body jolted in a spasm. With one last hard thrust, she felt gone. Stars flew before her eyes, and her mouth dried. The world stilled, and every nerve in her body went sensitive. When Nathan sighed against her shoulder, she felt cold and warm, a burgeoning serenity pulsating somewhere deep inside.

The otherworldly feeling faded into nothingness, and suddenly she felt the chill of the room against her exhausted body. Nathan still buried his head in the crook of her shoulder, catching his breath. He didn't look at her, and Claire wondered if he was too afraid to see her after this.

It was their first sin together - different and wholly addicting. It didn't compare to what things were like with Peter, and Claire longed to hear Nathan's comparison as well.

She supposed he never would offer.

A loving hand smoothed her hair over her shoulder and cupped her jaw. With closed eyes, he kissed her cheek adoringly and nuzzled his nose against hers. Claire quickly kissed his forehead, running a hand through his damp hair.

Lightly, he pulled her legs from around his body, and when she looked up, she met his troubled eyes and gave him credit for at least looking at her.

“Claire,” he said, his tone foreboding yet pensive. “We Petrellis have a lot of secrets.”

She leaned against the wall, watching him. She let a small smile escape onto her lips. “I know.”

Nathan bent down for his boxers, sliding them up over his muscular hips. Slowly, Claire got dressed too, taking peeks at Nathan with fascination. He had left his shirt on the floor, and he settled with a heavy sigh into the couch. Claire stared at his naked chest, and she felt her cheeks burn. She knew that if she continued to drink with him, more things would happen between them.

She wondered if he minded.

He kept his gaze away from her, staring at the powerless TV, and Claire surmised he was trying to avert his eyes as she redressed.

When she zipped up her jeans, Nathan turned to her with an outstretched hand, pointing at the liquor cabinet. Claire spotted one last unopened bottle of booze in there, stumbling over to retrieve it.

They settled on the couch in silence again, and they didn't feel the energy to turn on music or the TV. Claire thought it was for the best. Both the radio and TV would have slews of programs and songs dedicated to this ridiculous holiday.

She grunted, and Nathan looked over at her. “Stupid holiday.”

He nodded next to her. He reached over and held out his glass as she clutched the bottle of Amaretto. “Top me off.”

Claire filled it a little too full. Drops of Amaretto fell onto his chest before it met his lips. She watched the spill with interest, and Nathan caught her glance.

She saw his face tense. “Are you still….you know?”

Claire nodded mournfully. Nathan let out a weak laugh. He pointed to the bottle she rested in between her legs.

“Drink up then.”

Claire took a heavy swig, coughing. Nathan chuckled again. It was going to be a long and regrettable evening, but both of them were glad for one thing.

Valentine's Day would soon be over.

END