Teaser: Claude doesn't always use brute force to teach, after all, no matter how effective it seems to be.
AN: Please enjoy and review, if you have the time. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
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I won't fall in love with him.
They train in the mornings, but they rarely spar. Claude doesn't always use brute force to teach, after all, no matter how effective it seems to be. They talk in the mornings. Peter asks questions and Claude answers the ones he doesn't find painfully stupid or painful to think about. They work on breathing exercises and meditation and other less brutal forms of giving Peter some measure of control. He keeps the mornings calm. But they don't last long.
I won't fall in love with him.
The afternoons are a different story. Claude's never been a big believer in things like mercy or gentility, especially when he's trying to teach someone to save the world. Peter's a healer anyway—he can handle some punishment. Their days are full of broken bones and nasty bruises, all gone in mere moments, leaving only the throbbing memory of pain.
It's probably a cruel way of teaching, but Peter does learn. The broken bones and torn flesh happen gradually less and less often, and the time Peter takes to heal shrinks to only a few seconds.
Claude's relieved, maybe even proud, but he certainly won't say anything.
I won't fall in love with him.
Evenings are reserved for the hardest lessons of all. People suck, and Peter has to learn that. He took Peter to see Simone in the evening, when she left on a date with that artist bloke; he takes him to see others, too. The husband who hits his wife, and the wife who takes it out on their eight-year-old son. The college-age girl who steals from worried parents to feed her drug habit. The wealthy businessman who's so busy with his girlfriends and his hookers that he won't pay child support. His ex-wife lives on the edges of the slums with their children.
He shows Peter things he's been aware of but never had personal experience with—corruption, greed, sadism, amorality. He means to shatter Peter's youthful idealism, but every time it looks like he's succeeding, it's like a punch to the stomach.
He never does quite succeed, though. Peter refuses to fall.
Claude isn't sure whether to be angry or relieved.
I won't fall in love with him.
At night, it's Peter's turn to teach Claude.
He kisses Claude with a desperation Claude's never felt, touches him like he's some kind of sacred being. He whispers things against Claude's skin that Claude will never get used to hearing (Please, I need you, you're so beautiful, I love you). He teaches Claude what it's like to have a lover who is totally devoted to his pleasure, to making him feel needed; loved, even. Sometimes even at peace.
He hates it at first, refuses it; pushes Peter up against wall or bends him over the nearest piece of furniture and takes him, hard, refusing to feel anything but lust. Peter is persistent, though, and Claude gives in. He's tired and he feels old and an empath's eyes are impossible to resist. Angry fucks turn into passionate lovemaking, and Peter makes him remember what tenderness feels like.
They make love at night, and Claude's actually terrified at how it makes him feel. He's not used to the warmth or the devotion that Peter shows him. He's not used to the feelings for Peter that rage in him, and he knows it will destroy him eventually.
He also knows that there's nothing he can do about it.
I won't fall in love with him.
I won't.
I won't.
…
Too late.