Title: Wrong…But Right
Rating: M-- PG-18? I don't know how to rate this stuff so a little dirtier and slightly smutty but nothing too graphic.Author: wicked18writer
Summary: 'It's So Wrong' and 'Dirty Deed' Sequel last in trilogy, Post-Homecoming,
Nathan gets all-introspective.
Pairing: Unrequited Nathan/Claire, actual Peter/Claire.
Disclaimer : I do not own Heroes. But I do own a pony. His name is Mr. Sparkles…that's not his name. There is no pony. I lie a lot.
A/N : Don't think it's wrong, I liked this ship before he was her daddy. Damn those plot twists with their plot twistness. Read and Review please and thank you.
Nathan decided that the relationship between his beautiful Claire and his brother Peter, was, wrong, for lack of a better term.
In fact it was very wrong. One could even call their affair down right dirty, disgraceful, indecent, immoral, corrupt, bad, and so on and so forth. Peter was almost twice her age. They barely knew each before they hopped into bed together--correction 'shower' together. They got way too close way too fast. They had no plans for their futures. Peter was a nurse. Claire was hot. It was just so wrong.
In Nathan's not so humble opinion they did not belong with each other at all, in any way shape or form. It was so obvious to Nathan; he couldn't understand why no one else saw how incompatible the pair was. Why no one else dreamt of Peter falling down a well, or getting eaten by a bear, leaving Nathan free to comfort Claire in her time of grief.
Nathan wondered if no one else saw it because it was somehow linked to his powers. Or maybe everyone else was just too blind and/or stupid to see what Nathan saw. He never entertained the idea that no one else saw it because he was wrong and the two did belong together.
Because seriously? That's just crazy talk. And as far as Nathan was concerned, he was always right and never wrong.
There was once a time when Nathan Petrelli went to bed and dreamt of a gorgeously seductive wife who never lost the ability to walk, never blamed him for the accident, never got old, and never spoke except to say 'Nathan is the President of Love' gasp, moan, 'Yes', and 'Oh God, yes'. Nathan's life would be incredibly less complicated if his dreams were once again filled with Heidi and other random playboy models, but it would probably be more boring too.
Double edged swords and whatnot.
Now, Nathan dreamt of a pint sized Texan wearing a sluttish cheerleading outfit. A blonde bombshell who jumped up and down, did splits, cartwheels and bent her back in a way that Nathan wasn't entirely sure was even possible in real life but had sufficiently entertained him in his dreams.
Nathan used to have nightmares about his wife's car accident and her blaming him and him losing the election because his abilities were revealed to the world and then being lynched. But, now…now Nathan had nightmares about Claire and Peter having sex in his shower. And on his desk, his kitchen table, his garage, in his car, on his car, in his closet, his comfy chair, his bed, his bedroom floor, his-anywhere and everywhere that his imagination could conceive of.
These 'sexmares' were driving Nathan crazy.
Nathan's most horrible nightmare to date started with Nathan on a high school football field in anywhere USA. There were bleachers filled with screaming fans, waving banners that read things like, 'Give It To Her Hard Pete' and 'Make Him Beg For Mercy Claire'. In the center of the big empty field was a four-poster king sized bed with white linen sheets.
On either side of the bed stood Peter and Claire. His brother wore pink nurse scrubs and Claire wore a tighter and more see through version of her cheerleading uniform. Both had black streaks under their eyes and determination in them.
Heidi sat in her wheelchair off to the side. She wore a black and white striped jersey and smiled at Nathan cruelly before taking the whistle from around her neck and blowing it hard. The noise spurred the two competitors into action.
Nathan's attention snapped back to the couple as they dove across the bed, each trying to tackle the other and pin them to the bed, while simultaneously tearing off all their clothes. Claire won because well, Peter was a murse and male nurses don't scare anybody, let alone indestructible teens. Claire had Peter between her thighs but they weren't face to face. Peter was pinned to the bed, Claire's butt was on his chest and her face was near his crotch.
When Claire began rubbing her hands up and down Peter's thighs, the boisterous crowd went silent. After Claire looked over her shoulder at Pete with a wicked smile on her face and said, 'You ready for me to sex you stupid…er," the crowd disappeared completely leaving only empty seats and silence behind them. Nathan was now able to hear Peter softly reply, "Yes mistress."
With the crowd gone all that was left on the field was the bed, the two wrestling on it, and Heidi in her wheelchair on the other side of the bed watching the pair intensely. The stadium that was filled with so much noise before was now deafeningly quiet. Claire silently untied the drawstrings on Peter's scrubs and Nathan who was in the now empty stands found himself transported as you only can do in a dream, onto an uncomfortable folding chair right next to the bed…in the middle of the field…naked.
The loud quiet reflected the fact that the mood had changed. Claire slid the pants down Peter's legs in a sexy snakelike slither move. Nathan was no longer a spectator, now he was a voyeur, an intruder on a private moment between two lovers.
Nathan wanted nothing more than to run away from the sight before him, but he was paralyzed and couldn't get up. Nathan turned his head away but just saw the two on a giant jumbo-tron. Nathan tried to shut his eyes but couldn't, his eyelids wouldn't close. Nathan almost whimpered as Peter sat up, sliding Claire down so that she was straddling his waist. Peter then lifted Claire's red and white top off her body and threw it into Nathan's lap.
It was a voyeuristic torture, watching them together, being so close and yet so cliché-ly far.
Nathan did whimper when Claire turned to him to reveal her satin red push up bra being opened by his brother via a front clasp, as the cups fell away Nathan's dream addled brain usually fast forwarded.
It figured that even in his own subconscious he was deprived of seeing a naked Claire.
Nathan then found himself watching his brother and his dream tease in the middle of the throes of passion or some such other metaphor for sexual intercourse.
Claire was always on top. Peter was below her, in some many ways, sweating like a pig and squealing like one too. His brother kept his eyes screwed shut and his hands on the hips above him, Peter kept repeating the phrases, "Love me mistress Claire, I'm not worthy, Love you Claire, So wrong, so good."
From Nathan's third party perspective he could see that Claire was clearly in charge of the sex. She on top of Peter controlled the rhythm, the pace, the intensity of each thrust, and the amount of pleasure that accompanied each one. She was in Nathan's forced-open-eyes, a sex goddess, Aphrodite, glorious and magnificent…
Watching them…it made Nathan sad.
But the real kicker, the thing that made this whole revolting scene Nathan's worst nightmare was the fact that while Peter was below Claire, with his eyes screwed shut and mouth continuously spewing an endless stream of sentimental drivel, Claire had her eyes on him. As she rode Pete for the little that he was worth, Claire had eye-sex with Nathan.
And yes he did call it 'eye-sex' because of the movie Bring It On.
She bit her lower lip, fluttered her eyes open and close as her body was shocked by waves of pleasure, she mouthed his name—careful not to utter it out loud and she licked her lips, all for him, Nathan. The man she wasn't with but the one she really wanted. He couldn't see Heidi anymore; he briefly wondered where she was before his thoughts were once again consumed by the enigma that was Claire Bennett.
When Peter climaxed he made this whimpering/whiney noise and screamed "Destiny!" like Rocky Balboa.
When Claire climaxed she closed her eyes tightly, she bit her bottom lip so hard she must have tasted blood, every muscle in her body tensed, and then she just sort of opened her mouth and let out a soft, "Oh." It was a little anti-climatic.
Nathan didn't know what he looked like when he climaxed but he had often wondered and sometimes even worried that he looked stupid while doing so.
Nathan woke up in pain.
Moaning Claire's name, Nathan usually woke up with a throbbing hard on that his dead to the world wife was no help in relieving. Most times Nathan would drag himself out bed and into the bathroom, the master bathroom where he caught Peter and Claire having sex. There he could jack off in relative privacy and just flush away the mess when he was done. After he was finished he just went back to bed.
There he usually thought about his sexmares…and Claire, and Claire and Peter's relationship, and his relationship with Claire, and his relationship with his brother, he thought and analyzed everything about his life until it was morning again.
He never got more than three hours of sleep, four if he was lucky.
It was Nathan's worst nightmare, Claire having sex with Peter. Not because the two weren't compatible. Not because she was too young, or he was too old, not because they didn't love each other or they were going too fast, not for any reason that had to do with the couple in question themselves.
Not really.
It was Nathan's worst nightmare because in your dreams anything is supposed to be possible and in even in Nathan's dreams he couldn't have Claire.
"Nathan is 'craptastic' a word." Nathan heard Claire's voice over the noise of the TV, his two kids arguing, his wife's one-sided conversation with him, and his brother's laugher.
"Not a real one." Nathan replied. Claire smiled at him from the kitchen island where she and Peter were playing Scrabble.
"Nathan, you're not even listening to me are you?" Heidi glared at him from her seat at the kitchen table where they were eating lunch with the kids.
Nathan smiled and turned the page of the newspaper as he replied, "Of course I'm not dear you were talking about your mother and you know whenever you mention your mother all I hear is static."
"And me." Claire exclaimed. Heidi wasn't amused. Nathan's grin fell; he turned to his wife who was already wheeling herself out of the room. Heidi was especially sensitive about being ignored by her husband for his brother's girlfriend.
Nathan frowned; his obsession with Claire was really starting to bother Heidi but for the life of him he couldn't imagine why. She knew how it was.
Nathan and Heidi had always maintained a picture perfect political family dynamic, in the past, if there were any sexual indiscretions on his part he did the considerate thing and covered them up, like with the blonde in Vegas.
Heidi always knew he had his little affairs but she never said anything because when he returned home to her and the boys he was always completely devoted to her and the boys and their family. But with Claire living in their house Nathan found himself unable to hide his obvious attraction to the girl. And Heidi was his wife. And she knew him like no one else.
Heidi saw him watching Claire when she was sunbathing in the backyard, coming out of the shower, excising, eating, laughing, baking, sneezing, grooming, yawning—when he watched her, Heidi was watching him. And it pissed her off. And Nathan knew it pissed her off but he couldn't help himself. He couldn't not look at her or flirt with her, he knew it was hurting his wife every time he teased Claire about the shortness of her skirt or the smell of her hair and he knew he wasn't exactly being subtle, but…it wasn't his fault, at least not all his fault.
Claire started it. She always started it.
When Claire went out to sunbath she always came up to Nathan in her little pink bikini and asked him if he would put suntan lotion on her back, she used her pleading little girl voice to make it seem like it was no big deal but they both knew it was a more than innocent request. Nathan always respectively declined, told her to go ask her boyfriend, and left as quick as he could.
After weeks of living in his house, Claire still asked him every day to show her where the towels were before she could her shower. Nathan knew she only did this so he would think about her in the shower. All naked and sudsy. The devious bitch.
And when she was exercising she always asked Nathan if she looked fat. Like, in her two sizes too small jock bra and booty shorts, her tan, taut, glistening body could look anything other than phenomenal.
All of these little moments fueled Nathan's obsession and sexual preoccupation with the buxom Texan and they fueled Heidi's silent rage for her husband. The only one it seems to mean nothing to was Claire.
One minute she could be teasing Nathan about the tightness of his shirt and the outline of his muscles, hands tracing his biceps and everything, and the next minute she would be dry humping Peter on the couch.
If nothing else Nathan had ever said about his relationship with Claire was true the fact that Claire tormented Nathan was.
But even truer was the fact that he masochistically savored every minute of it.
Nathan had a very heavily sexual subtext laden repartee with Claire Bennett. They flirted, they joked, they even sometimes touched but it all meant nothing…to Claire.
To Nathan it meant more, not more in the deep down inside he thought they were soul mates, or destined to be together type more. Just more.
The thing that bugged the crap out of Nathan most nights when he lay in bed on his 500 thread count sheets, next to his beautiful wife who gave him beautiful children, wasn't the fact that he couldn't be with Claire.
No.
What pissed him off was the fact that Peter, screw up of the family, black sheep, jumped off a fucking building to see if he could fly, always second best to his older brother, Peter, got to be with her.
It was so wrong, and unfair, disgusting, dirty, bad, wrong…but right.
Didn't mean Nathan had to stop checking out her ass when she bent over or anything.