Gabriel Gray was kissing Claire Bennet, and she wasn't pushing him away.
The thought sent a thrill through his body as he pressed her against the bookshelf, his lips never once leaving her own. He had imagined this moment for so long, though he was loath to admit it to himself. This wasn't like when he had kissed her before; then it had been out of desperation, a last ditch attempt at forging a connection. Now, it was a reminder of a connection he had already forged, a relationship he'd built from the ground up.
He had always found her beautiful. It was only amplified after the hospital, when she began to change her view of him. He admired her strength, her willingness to sacrifice, her stubbornness, even when it was so damnably annoying. He didn't know how so much fire could fit in such a small body, but he fully intended to find out.
His hands trailed down her sides, grasping her hips and pulling her closer to him, knowing she could feel how much he wanted her. Part of him was afraid of scaring her away, but another, much larger part of him couldn't wait any longer. This had been building between them for years, and while he knew they had eternity to explore whatever this was, he didn't want to wait that long.
He moved his lips to her neck, pressing kisses against her collarbone and moving further down, listening to the way her breath hitched as he ran his tongue along the skin at the base of her throat.
"Gabriel," she gasped, and he felt something in him snap, all control gone. He grasped her in his arms and lifted her with ease, setting her down carefully on the bed amidst his tangled sheets. He held himself over her, his arms forming a cage on either side of her body. Her cheeks were flushed red, her green eyes looking at him with such a strong surge of desire that he almost took her right then and there.
"This is what you want?" His voice was low, guttural. He almost didn't recognize it himself. Part of him was still scared of pushing too quickly, of scaring her away, but as she pressed herself up against him and captured his lips in hers, he knew that she had no reservations. He slid his hands down to her hips again, hooking his fingers in the fabric of her jeans. She didn't hesitate to help him pull them down, shifting slightly so she could lift her shirt above her head, leaving her in just a bra and underwear.
"God, Claire. You're beautiful." His words rang out in the silence of the bedroom, and he knew she could feel how much he wanted her. He hadn't been with a woman in…years. There had been no relationships since Elle, and God knew how that one had ended. He'd slept with a few women on and off, but not for a long time. He found it easier to be alone than deal with the baggage that other people brought to his life, especially with his own very extensive and heavy baggage, but he was more than willing to take on any role necessary to be with Claire.
He kissed her neck again, drawing noises from her with every inch he moved down. Occasionally he pressed his teeth into her skin, hard enough to pull a gasp from her lips, but not hard enough to hurt for long. His fingers made quick work of her bra, tossing it carelessly to the side as his lips moved to cover her breasts, smirking slightly as she pressed herself eagerly into his mouth.
"Please," she moaned, her voice barely above a whisper. Gabriel felt a different type of Hunger taking over his body. He wanted to study her, make her fall apart and see what made her tick; he imagined all of the different ways he could draw that plea from her lips, and felt himself harden against her hip.
"Please what?" He pulled back slightly from her breast, and was enjoying himself thoroughly. How many ways could he make her beg for him?
"Damnit, Gabriel." Her voice was breathless as he kissed below her breasts, her stomach, and further down. She didn't hesitate to help him remove her panties, shoving them aside with her bra, somewhere to be found in the morning.
"What do you want, Claire?" He murmured against her hip. She bucked against him, begging him without words to move his mouth lower, to take what they both wanted from her. He dragged his mouth against her skin, knowing the friction he created with the stubble on his cheeks was driving her mad the closer he got to her center. And when he pressed his mouth against her, he found noises he had shamelessly imagined over the years but never thought he would hear.
She reached down to grasp him after a few minutes, pulling him back to her mouth with one hand, using the other to remove the sweatpants that were already pushing away from his body. He allowed her to remove them, reminding himself with every touch on his skin that this was real, that she was here, and that she wanted him.
The thought was still so strange to him, but he struggled to push it away, to focus on her hands on his skin. When she grasped him in her hand he felt a groan push past his lips, and he recognized the look on her face as the one had been on his moments before: she knew that, at this moment, he was completely in her power.
As much as he would have liked to enjoy her ministrations, he knew that he couldn't wait much longer. And to be honest, he preferred to be in control. He grasped her hips and pulled her closer to him even as she chuckled.
"Getting impatient?" she asked, and he didn't respond, not trusting his words to do justice to the feelings she was awakening in him. Surely she knew.
He found himself over her again, pressing against her until she gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist. It didn't take long to find a steady rhythm, and though Gabriel knew that they would live forever, he still never wanted this to end.
–
It took Gabriel several moments to realize that he was not alone in his bed in the morning.
He turned slowly, finding himself pressed up against Claire. She was asleep, her back against his chest and blonde hair falling over her face. He reached out and brushed his fingers over her cheek, remembering the noises she had made the night before. He wondered what other noises he could pull from her.
She stirred slightly, moving against him in just the right way that he found himself suddenly uncomfortable in the best of ways. She made a soft noise and slowly opened her eyes, looking back at him over her shoulder.
"Good morning," she murmured, and all of the doubts he'd held about this being a dream were shattered. He smiled.
"Good morning, Claire." He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, inhaling a scent that had become so familiar to him over the past 20 years, but only now taken on an entirely new significance. Part of him still couldn't believe that the previous night had happened. The thought that Claire Bennet would feel anything for him beyond hatred and revulsion was not a thought he had allowed himself to entertain, though the desire had been there in the back of his head for years. He hadn't imagined it would feel this good to finally have her in his arms.
So when she sat up, he protested, trying to pull her back down. She laughed, shaking her head.
"We have a meeting to get ready for," she reminded him. He sighed, sitting up and finding his eyes drawn to her bare chest, somehow more beautiful in the light filtering through the blinds of his window than in the darkness.
"Hmm. I'd rather stay here, actually," he declared, reaching out and wrapping his arms around her from behind. She leaned back against him for a moment, and he could feel her heartbeat, changing his breaths to match hers. This was the harmony he had been searching for; they were in tandem, like two machines set to the same time. She was his constant, the one thing he could rely on being there even when the rest of the world burned around them.
She stayed still for a few moments, and though Gabriel longed to know what she was thinking, he didn't want to break whatever spell had settled around them. He just prayed to whatever higher power may exist that, despite everything he'd done over the years, she didn't regret what they had done. After a long moment of silence, she turned around, pressing a light kiss against his lips, dispelling the doubts that lingered in his mind.
Yes, he could get used to having Claire Bennet in his bed.
–
Gabriel had already decided that he would protect Claire Bennet, no matter the cost. He had decided it years ago, even before she'd forgiven him. As soon as he and Peter had reconciled, and Peter had expressed concern for his niece, Gabriel knew that he would never let anything happen to her. Surely part of it was his own guilt pressing through the surface, but it was also a desire to protect what was important to Peter. That was what had kept him going when they escaped the hospital together, always coming back to her side despite her harsh words and attempts to abandon him.
After they had started a new relationship when the hospital was evacuated, he knew that he would spend as much time as it took to break down her walls, or at least to allow her to demolish them herself while he waited outside. There was never a sense of urgency, as he knew that she, like him, would live forever, and that he had her to thank for it, twice over now.
Now, though, he had an entirely new reason to protect her. He could still feel the ghost of her fingers on his skin as he sat at the kitchen table, looking over everything they knew so far about the group that had killed Peter. The anger at the man in charge was a dim ember compared to the fiery need he had to make sure that he never laid his fingers on Claire again. He would protect whatever this new relationship was, make sure it had time to grow, that the years ahead of them would not be spent on the run or in pursuit of revenge.
Micah had found the source of the video upload, but as they expected, it was a dead end: uploaded from a nondescript cafe in the middle of the city, from a laptop that had either been destroyed or taken offline entirely. Their one lead was dependent on Molly's information.
Gabriel frowned slightly, glancing down at the crumpled piece of paper that she had written on. Most of his victims were dead, and somehow that made it easier to deal with. He could feel guilt for their demise, but they were not coming back to haunt him, at least not in a literal sense. Seeing a life so utterly destroyed by what Sylar–by what he had done, was somehow worse than if he had simply killed her when she was a child. When she had packed up and left with Matt Parkman, Gabriel had assumed she would be fine - or as close to fine as she could be.
"Gabriel?"
He glanced up, looking over at Claire. She was looking at him with an expectant look on her face, as though she had asked him a question. He frowned, shaking his head.
"What?"
"I asked if you were ready," she said. He could feel her eyes on him as he shoved the paper away, following its movement and no doubt deducing his thoughts. He didn't like how much of an open book he'd become in the past few weeks, even if it was only to her.
"Yes." He stood up, shoving the paper into his pocket. He pushed the thoughts away, focusing on the present. Though they'd spent most of their time indoors, there was no guarantee that the man wouldn't find out where they were going, if someone they had contacted had let word slip. Gabriel found himself on alert, knowing that if he saw that man, he would tear him apart before he could draw a single breath.
"Let's go." He offered her his hand, and she didn't hesitate before pressing her palm to his, grasping his fingers. Even her touch felt different now than it had before. Though the nerves were still there, all he could picture was how they had touched other parts of his body the night before.
In a moment they were gone, reappearing in an old warehouse downtown. Peter had it listed as a potential meeting spot, though one they had never had to use. He knew that it was abandoned, had watched the movements of everyone outside for months before deeming it safe. There were already several other Specials there. Gabriel recognized many of them from the hospital, as either other 'patients' or among those that had helped with the rescue. Others had joined over the past twenty years, either due to their discontent with the way they were treated or as a means of support for Peter's campaign.
Gabriel released Claire's hand, stepping away and to the side. This was where he belonged; out of the way, available as protection but never in the spotlight. Too many still looked his way with a mixture of fear or revulsion in their eyes, while others only seemed curious, unsure if he was the monster he had been decades before. He had refused to address them before, and he would do the same now, not that he expected Claire to ask him to do anything differently. She knew better than anyone how difficult it was to change someone's mind about him.
He folded his arms across his chest, watching as more trickled in, ducking in from back alleyways, always on foot. They were good at following directions, at least. Still he found himself alert to every sound, every cough, every footstep. He watched Claire as she spoke to those already there, moving from person to person, addressing their concerns and accepting their condolences for Peter. He recognized Peter in her then, in the way she spoke to people and put them at ease; he didn't understand how she could doubt herself. He knew she had; though he was better at controlling his powers, sometimes thoughts still slipped through, especially when the other person was emotional.
He heard a lot of them now, mainly from the other Specials. He didn't trust them, at least not implicitly. No doubt some were tempted by the offers that this man had made them, to rise up and take the world by storm. Gabriel himself would have been tempted by the offer had it not been made by Peter's murderer.
By the time the room was nearly full and Claire took her place at the front, Gabriel stepped away from the empty boxes that he had used as a perch, moving to the back of the crowd. Though he had failed Peter, he wouldn't fail Claire. This time, he would protect her, no matter the costs.
At least he could promise that.
