Plaude Fic: Trading Places
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,668
Characters: Peter/Claude, past Peter/Nathan
Warnings: Explicit male-male sex, mentions of incest, mentions of under-aged sex
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes or these characters; just letting my mind run wild is all.
Summary: Claude and Peter's wedding night.
Notes: This is for the Plaude Bingo Game at peterandclaude, to fill the prompt "Wedding: Consummation." I've been lurking for about a year, enjoying all the great stories by writers on the peterandclaude list and other heroes sites. This is my first fic.
*****
Claude swiped the key and pushed open the door, then turned abruptly and, without warning, stooped down and hoisted Peter over his shoulder. Peter laughed as Claude carried him into their hotel room and tossed him down on the bed. “So romantic,” Peter said, smiling. Claude laughed and plopped himself down. They settled into a comfortable silence, resting side by side.
After a few moments Peter linked his fingers with Claude’s. “Thank you for today, Claude.”
“Yeah, mate. Wasn’t too bad, yeah?” They’d had a simple ceremony on the beach that afternoon. Just the two of them and a couple friends. They’d walked the beach afterward, hand-in-hand, before meeting back up with their friends for dinner. It had been simple, but more than Peter’d ever expected to have. He’d wasted so many years with Nathan, lonely and knowing deep down that nothing could come of it, but feeling powerless to change anything. For all intents and purposes Claude was his first real relationship. And though he knew Claude wanted him, he’d never have expected a proposal. Peter still found it hard to believe Claude had asked him to marry him. Though he hadn’t, really, of course. Peter had opened a small box on their third Christmas morning together to find a slim silver band.
“What d’ya think, Pete?” Claude had asked.
“Is… is this…?”
“Yeah, mate.”
“Are you saying…?”
Claude grunted. “Knew you were gonna make me say it. Yeah, mate, want to spend the rest of my bloody life with ya, alright?”
“Yeah, yes. Alright. Yes, Claude. I… I just didn’t think… I wasn’t expecting... But yes. Yes.” Peter had leaned forward then to end his rambling, flustered acceptance speech with a kiss. They’d spent the rest of the morning back in bed. It was one of the best fucks of Peter’s life.
Now they were married. Married. Thinking of the word made Peter laugh. “It wasn’t too bad, no,” he finally replied. “It was really nice, in fact. Perfect even. I still can’t believe we did it, though.” Peter rolled onto his side and up onto a forearm to stare down at Claude, then to kiss him. Claude pulled Peter up onto himself. They kissed for several minutes without urgency.
“Hey,” Peter said, pulling away, “I want to take a shower. I feel like I’ve got sand everywhere. Come with me?”
“Sure.”
“Will you wash my hair?”
Claude rolled his eyes before answering. “Yeah, alright. Get off’a me, then.” Peter smiled and kissed Claude quickly before rolling off of him and the bed.
*****
They returned to bed with their hair still wet. Their kissing was more urgent now. They lay face to face, holding each other, with Claude’s leg between Peter’s. They moved their bodies against each other slowly, Peter’s hand running up and down Claude’s spine while Claude’s caressed Peter’s face. Peter felt time slow down. He imagined everything in his life collapsing away from this moment. That all of the hell he’d been through before Claude came back had happened to someone else. That maybe he could move on. That, actually, he had. Finally. His life was his own. He was happy. Content, even.
“What’re ya thinkin’ ‘bout, mate?” Claude asked against his lips.
“What? Sorry,” Peter laughed quietly. “Nothing, really. Just… Well, you’ll make fun of me, but I was thinking how happy I am.”
“Yeah?” The question came as a puff of breath against Peter’s lips.
“Yeah. What, you’re not going to make fun? I give you material like that and you’re going to pass it up?” Peter teased.
“Figured it bein’ your weddin’ night and all, I might refrain jus’ the once.”
“Very gallant of you.”
Claude snorted. “Not every day I get called that.”
“It’s not every day you deserve it.” Peter smiled and kissed him. Then he turned serious. “Are you happy, Claude?”
Claude pushed the hair off Peter’s forehead and looked into his eyes. “Yeah, Peter, I’m happy.”
*****
They were rocking against each other now, kissing deeply. Claude rolled onto his back, pulling Peter on top of him. Still kissing, Peter spread his legs to straddle Claude, bringing his knees up along Claude’s hips. He kissed all over Claude’s face, his neck, his chest, while Claude’s hands stroked up and down his back, his hips, his thighs. Peter worked his kisses back up to Claude’s ear. “Is this how you want me tonight?” he whispered.
Claude rubbed Peter’s shoulder blades for a moment. “Was actually thinkin’ ya might fuck me, Pete.”
Peter froze. Waited to hear Claude laugh, say he was joking. But after a moment of silence, Peter sat up slowly, resting his hands on Claude’s chest. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, mate, ‘m serious.” Peter stared at him. “Well, ya want to or not?”
“What? Yes, yeah, okay. I… I just… I didn’t think you liked that.”
“’S’not generally my thing, no. Ya can think of it as a weddin’ present. But you oughta stop gapin’ at me like that and get on with it or I’m gonna rescind the offer.”
“Yeah, okay, sorry. Right. Um… how do you want to do this?”
“Tab A in slot B, Pete. Or haven’t you been payin’ attention all these years?”
“Very funny, Claude. I meant, you know, what position do you want? I want it to be good for you.”
Claude started to say something-sarcastic, no doubt, Peter expected. But he stopped and sat up, kissed Peter, then rolled over onto his stomach, leaving Peter straddling him from behind.
Peter gazed at the expanse of Claude’s back. He loved this man. Felt overwhelmed by it at times. Had struggled, their first two years together, with a deep, sometimes panicked, fear of losing him. A fear he still battled, though it came less often these days. Even so, he felt amazed every day that this was his. Felt joy every morning that he woke up in the same bed with Claude, and a flutter of relief in his chest to see him again, in their apartment, in the evening. And now they were married and Claude was lying underneath him, waiting. It was a level of trust he’d never expected to be offered. Nathan had certainly never let him do this.
Peter thrust thoughts of his brother aside and ran his hands up and down Claude’s back several times before finally bringing them hesitantly to Claude’s buttocks. He forced himself to breathe then reached for the lube Claude had set on the nightstand when they’d unpacked that morning, willing his hands to stop shaking, willing himself to focus. He knew how good this could feel when it was done right, when you wanted it, when you were ready for it. He also knew how much it could hurt when it wasn’t, when you didn’t, when you weren’t.
“Claude,” Peter said quietly, “Tell me if… if I’m doing something wrong, or--“
“Ya don’t seem to be doin’ much of anythin’ so far, Pete, so I think we’re good.” His tone was gentle, teasing.
Peter laughed. “Yeah, okay, sorry.” He placed one hand beside Claude, resting his weight there, then ran slicked fingers along the cleft of Claude’s ass, sliding them slowly up and down, deeper each time, until he ran a finger across Claude’s opening. He heard Claude’s intake of breath, but noted that he didn’t flinch. He continued his movements for a moment, then added just the slightest pressure to the strokes. Claude lay perfectly still and Peter couldn’t see his face. “You okay?”
“Fine, Pete. Just go ahead, yeah?” Peter nodded, more to himself really, then pushed just enough to let the tip of his index finger slip inside Claude’s body. He slid his finger back immediately then repeated the motion several times, just barely breaching the outer ring of muscle. He waited until he heard Claude make a soft noise then pushed in further and pulled back out again. Claude groaned and Peter felt blood rush to his groin. He began to lose himself in the feeling of moving his finger in and out of Claude’s’ body, of the softness of the skin inside of him, and the heat there, of the incredible intimacy of this moment, of his own arousal. He added a second finger, let his head drop and his eyes close. He’d forgotten his anxiety altogether when Claude’s voice reached him a few minutes later.
“Hey, Pete, I’m as ready as I’m gonna be. Let’s do this, yeah?”
Peter felt the rise of panic and desire simultaneously. “Okay,” he nearly whispered. He pulled his fingers from Claude’s body and reached again for the lube. He used what he knew to be a ridiculously liberal amount, and nearly laughed out loud at himself. He wiped his hand on a towel, then reached up for an extra pillow. “Lift your hips,” he told Claude. He moved himself back so that he was kneeling between Claude’s legs, then carefully laid down on top of him. He kissed his shoulder, the side of his neck. He pressed his nose to the skin behind Claude’s ear and took in a deep breath of him. He tried to calm his heart and his breathing, but the feel of his cock resting in the cleft of Claude’s ass made it difficult to do either. Still, the fear remained mixed with his excitement and he found himself hesitating. “Claude…” he whispered into his lover’s ear, “I’ve… I’ve never done this before.”
Claude turned his head and lifted himself just a bit. He looked at Peter, then smiled. “Was startin’ to get that picture, yeah. Listen, mate, ’m not worried. Wouldn’t do this if I didn’t trust ya. It’s goin’ to be good for both of us, yeah? Know it will. An’ if it’s not right I’ll tell ya, okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” Peter said, smiling back and nodding. “I love you, Claude.”
“I know, mate. So just quit worryin’ an’ fuck me.”
Peter laughed. He kissed Claude on the mouth then lifted himself up and reached between their bodies. He stroked himself back to full hardness and ran his cockhead over Claude’s opening several times before pushing in. He went slowly, pushing in just a bit and pulling back, staying at the same depth for a while before going further, doing all the things Claude had done for him their first time together.
He’d been nervous-scared, almost. It’d been more than a year since the last time he’d been with Nathan, and sex with his brother had usually been rough. Claude hadn’t known any of these things at the time, of course, but he’d sensed Peter’s anxiety. He’d suggested several times that they didn’t need to fuck; there were plenty of other things they could do together. But they’d been sleeping together for two weeks already and Peter did want him. And once Claude was inside him the fear evaporated. Claude wasn’t his brother. And he wasn’t his father. He was gentle. There’d been very little pain, and it hadn’t lasted. Claude did things to him so differently. The pace had been amazing-long, slow thrusts with no rush to finish. And he’d held him so tightly, kept his hands moving all over his body, whispered beautiful things into his ear. Peter had been having sex since he was 15, but this was the first time he’d been made love to. His previous experiences had been more akin to being taken possession of, he realized. And Claude held him afterward, something Nathan rarely had time for. More than that, he’d still been there in the morning. He’d fucked him again, even more slowly and gently than the night before, something Peter wouldn’t have thought possible. They’d slept in the same bed every night since.
Peter rocked slowly. He lay on top of Claude, with his face pressed between Claude’s shoulder blades. He was fully inside Claude’s body now, moaning into his skin. Claude squeezed Peter’s hand where it lay on the pillow. “Feels good, mate.”
“Yeah,” Peter gasped. “Yeah?”
“Mm-hm, Pete. But I think it’s time you gave me a proper fuck, yeah?” Claude, who’d been still up until now, pushed back into Peter’s next thrust, causing Peter’s breath to hitch. He did it again, and again, until the two were moving smoothly together. Claude lifted a bit onto his knees and Peter pulled the pillow out from under him and replaced it with his hand, letting Claude thrust in and out of the circle of his grip. Peter was crying out now with each exhalation and Claude matched him with quiet grunts.
“Are-are you-okay?” Peter gasped out.
“’M fine, Pete. Not goin’ to last much longer, though.”
“Yeah, me neither. I… Oh, god, Claude. I-this-I never-“ Peter lost his thought in a strangled moan. Claude increased the pace between them again, and Peter tightened his grip on Claude’s cock. Claude began to moan now, too, a sound that never failed to kick Peter’s arousal into high gear. When Claude tensed under and around him, coming suddenly and hard, Peter’s brain nearly seized. The day, everything, came flooding back to him in a quick second of shocking clarity: He was in love, and loved back. He was married. To Claude. Who was coming apart beneath him on their wedding night. These realizations collided with the incredible sensation of Claude’s muscles contracting tightly around him. His orgasm gripped him hard and he cried out as he arched into Claude’s body. His mind blanked and profound pleasure swirled in his groin, his belly, his chest.
It was several long moments before either of them spoke or moved. Peter lay collapsed on top of Claude as both men slowly regained their breath and awareness. Peter opened his eyes when Claude gently brought Peter’s hand to his mouth and kissed it.
“You okay back there, mate?”
Peter gave a breathy laugh. “Yep. I’m good. Really good.”
Claude squeezed Peter’s hand. “Good. You wouldn’t mind movin’ offa me, then, would ya? Startin’ to find it hard to breathe with your dead weight on me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Alright.” They gasped together as Peter pulled himself out of Claude’s body. He collapsed onto his back and shivered as air hit the sweat on his chest. Claude maneuvered onto his side and propped himself on an elbow to look down at Peter. He pushed the sweaty hair off Peter’s forehead then caressed his fingers down the side of his face and neck, around the back of his neck into his hair. He leaned down and kissed him deeply.
“Don’t be gettin’ any ideas ‘bout doin’ it again anytime soon, but that was real good.”
Peter smiled. “That’s good to hear. I was a little afraid you’d like it too much and then we’d be fighting over who was going to bottom.”
Claude laughed. “Yeah, mate, don’t think we have to worry too much about that.” He kissed Peter again, then pulled back to tell him, “Seriously, though, Pete. Felt real good.”
“Thank you,” Peter said quietly.
“Yeah, love.” Claude stroked the side of Peter’s face again. “How ‘bout we clean up a bit and then take a quick snooze? ‘M feelin’ a little drowsy after the pummelin’ ya just gave me, but I’d still like ta have my way with ya before the night is over, yeah?”
Peter smiled and pulled Claude’s mouth back to his own. After the kiss he looked Claude in the eye and said, without any fear, “I love you, Claude Rains.” He didn’t care whether Claude said it back or not; he knew that Claude loved him. Knew it beyond doubt. Knew that even if the fear of loss still visited him from time to time that he could regard it as a specter of his past. Claude wasn’t leaving.
Even so, he was grateful to hear Claude’s words, whispered softly but clearly against his lips, “I love you, too, Peter. I love you, mate. I do.”
Word Count: 2,668
Characters: Peter/Claude, past Peter/Nathan
Warnings: Explicit male-male sex, mentions of incest, mentions of under-aged sex
Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes or these characters; just letting my mind run wild is all.
Summary: Claude and Peter's wedding night.
Notes: This is for the Plaude Bingo Game at peterandclaude, to fill the prompt "Wedding: Consummation." I've been lurking for about a year, enjoying all the great stories by writers on the peterandclaude list and other heroes sites. This is my first fic.
*****
Claude swiped the key and pushed open the door, then turned abruptly and, without warning, stooped down and hoisted Peter over his shoulder. Peter laughed as Claude carried him into their hotel room and tossed him down on the bed. “So romantic,” Peter said, smiling. Claude laughed and plopped himself down. They settled into a comfortable silence, resting side by side.
After a few moments Peter linked his fingers with Claude’s. “Thank you for today, Claude.”
“Yeah, mate. Wasn’t too bad, yeah?” They’d had a simple ceremony on the beach that afternoon. Just the two of them and a couple friends. They’d walked the beach afterward, hand-in-hand, before meeting back up with their friends for dinner. It had been simple, but more than Peter’d ever expected to have. He’d wasted so many years with Nathan, lonely and knowing deep down that nothing could come of it, but feeling powerless to change anything. For all intents and purposes Claude was his first real relationship. And though he knew Claude wanted him, he’d never have expected a proposal. Peter still found it hard to believe Claude had asked him to marry him. Though he hadn’t, really, of course. Peter had opened a small box on their third Christmas morning together to find a slim silver band.
“What d’ya think, Pete?” Claude had asked.
“Is… is this…?”
“Yeah, mate.”
“Are you saying…?”
Claude grunted. “Knew you were gonna make me say it. Yeah, mate, want to spend the rest of my bloody life with ya, alright?”
“Yeah, yes. Alright. Yes, Claude. I… I just didn’t think… I wasn’t expecting... But yes. Yes.” Peter had leaned forward then to end his rambling, flustered acceptance speech with a kiss. They’d spent the rest of the morning back in bed. It was one of the best fucks of Peter’s life.
Now they were married. Married. Thinking of the word made Peter laugh. “It wasn’t too bad, no,” he finally replied. “It was really nice, in fact. Perfect even. I still can’t believe we did it, though.” Peter rolled onto his side and up onto a forearm to stare down at Claude, then to kiss him. Claude pulled Peter up onto himself. They kissed for several minutes without urgency.
“Hey,” Peter said, pulling away, “I want to take a shower. I feel like I’ve got sand everywhere. Come with me?”
“Sure.”
“Will you wash my hair?”
Claude rolled his eyes before answering. “Yeah, alright. Get off’a me, then.” Peter smiled and kissed Claude quickly before rolling off of him and the bed.
*****
They returned to bed with their hair still wet. Their kissing was more urgent now. They lay face to face, holding each other, with Claude’s leg between Peter’s. They moved their bodies against each other slowly, Peter’s hand running up and down Claude’s spine while Claude’s caressed Peter’s face. Peter felt time slow down. He imagined everything in his life collapsing away from this moment. That all of the hell he’d been through before Claude came back had happened to someone else. That maybe he could move on. That, actually, he had. Finally. His life was his own. He was happy. Content, even.
“What’re ya thinkin’ ‘bout, mate?” Claude asked against his lips.
“What? Sorry,” Peter laughed quietly. “Nothing, really. Just… Well, you’ll make fun of me, but I was thinking how happy I am.”
“Yeah?” The question came as a puff of breath against Peter’s lips.
“Yeah. What, you’re not going to make fun? I give you material like that and you’re going to pass it up?” Peter teased.
“Figured it bein’ your weddin’ night and all, I might refrain jus’ the once.”
“Very gallant of you.”
Claude snorted. “Not every day I get called that.”
“It’s not every day you deserve it.” Peter smiled and kissed him. Then he turned serious. “Are you happy, Claude?”
Claude pushed the hair off Peter’s forehead and looked into his eyes. “Yeah, Peter, I’m happy.”
*****
They were rocking against each other now, kissing deeply. Claude rolled onto his back, pulling Peter on top of him. Still kissing, Peter spread his legs to straddle Claude, bringing his knees up along Claude’s hips. He kissed all over Claude’s face, his neck, his chest, while Claude’s hands stroked up and down his back, his hips, his thighs. Peter worked his kisses back up to Claude’s ear. “Is this how you want me tonight?” he whispered.
Claude rubbed Peter’s shoulder blades for a moment. “Was actually thinkin’ ya might fuck me, Pete.”
Peter froze. Waited to hear Claude laugh, say he was joking. But after a moment of silence, Peter sat up slowly, resting his hands on Claude’s chest. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, mate, ‘m serious.” Peter stared at him. “Well, ya want to or not?”
“What? Yes, yeah, okay. I… I just… I didn’t think you liked that.”
“’S’not generally my thing, no. Ya can think of it as a weddin’ present. But you oughta stop gapin’ at me like that and get on with it or I’m gonna rescind the offer.”
“Yeah, okay, sorry. Right. Um… how do you want to do this?”
“Tab A in slot B, Pete. Or haven’t you been payin’ attention all these years?”
“Very funny, Claude. I meant, you know, what position do you want? I want it to be good for you.”
Claude started to say something-sarcastic, no doubt, Peter expected. But he stopped and sat up, kissed Peter, then rolled over onto his stomach, leaving Peter straddling him from behind.
Peter gazed at the expanse of Claude’s back. He loved this man. Felt overwhelmed by it at times. Had struggled, their first two years together, with a deep, sometimes panicked, fear of losing him. A fear he still battled, though it came less often these days. Even so, he felt amazed every day that this was his. Felt joy every morning that he woke up in the same bed with Claude, and a flutter of relief in his chest to see him again, in their apartment, in the evening. And now they were married and Claude was lying underneath him, waiting. It was a level of trust he’d never expected to be offered. Nathan had certainly never let him do this.
Peter thrust thoughts of his brother aside and ran his hands up and down Claude’s back several times before finally bringing them hesitantly to Claude’s buttocks. He forced himself to breathe then reached for the lube Claude had set on the nightstand when they’d unpacked that morning, willing his hands to stop shaking, willing himself to focus. He knew how good this could feel when it was done right, when you wanted it, when you were ready for it. He also knew how much it could hurt when it wasn’t, when you didn’t, when you weren’t.
“Claude,” Peter said quietly, “Tell me if… if I’m doing something wrong, or--“
“Ya don’t seem to be doin’ much of anythin’ so far, Pete, so I think we’re good.” His tone was gentle, teasing.
Peter laughed. “Yeah, okay, sorry.” He placed one hand beside Claude, resting his weight there, then ran slicked fingers along the cleft of Claude’s ass, sliding them slowly up and down, deeper each time, until he ran a finger across Claude’s opening. He heard Claude’s intake of breath, but noted that he didn’t flinch. He continued his movements for a moment, then added just the slightest pressure to the strokes. Claude lay perfectly still and Peter couldn’t see his face. “You okay?”
“Fine, Pete. Just go ahead, yeah?” Peter nodded, more to himself really, then pushed just enough to let the tip of his index finger slip inside Claude’s body. He slid his finger back immediately then repeated the motion several times, just barely breaching the outer ring of muscle. He waited until he heard Claude make a soft noise then pushed in further and pulled back out again. Claude groaned and Peter felt blood rush to his groin. He began to lose himself in the feeling of moving his finger in and out of Claude’s’ body, of the softness of the skin inside of him, and the heat there, of the incredible intimacy of this moment, of his own arousal. He added a second finger, let his head drop and his eyes close. He’d forgotten his anxiety altogether when Claude’s voice reached him a few minutes later.
“Hey, Pete, I’m as ready as I’m gonna be. Let’s do this, yeah?”
Peter felt the rise of panic and desire simultaneously. “Okay,” he nearly whispered. He pulled his fingers from Claude’s body and reached again for the lube. He used what he knew to be a ridiculously liberal amount, and nearly laughed out loud at himself. He wiped his hand on a towel, then reached up for an extra pillow. “Lift your hips,” he told Claude. He moved himself back so that he was kneeling between Claude’s legs, then carefully laid down on top of him. He kissed his shoulder, the side of his neck. He pressed his nose to the skin behind Claude’s ear and took in a deep breath of him. He tried to calm his heart and his breathing, but the feel of his cock resting in the cleft of Claude’s ass made it difficult to do either. Still, the fear remained mixed with his excitement and he found himself hesitating. “Claude…” he whispered into his lover’s ear, “I’ve… I’ve never done this before.”
Claude turned his head and lifted himself just a bit. He looked at Peter, then smiled. “Was startin’ to get that picture, yeah. Listen, mate, ’m not worried. Wouldn’t do this if I didn’t trust ya. It’s goin’ to be good for both of us, yeah? Know it will. An’ if it’s not right I’ll tell ya, okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” Peter said, smiling back and nodding. “I love you, Claude.”
“I know, mate. So just quit worryin’ an’ fuck me.”
Peter laughed. He kissed Claude on the mouth then lifted himself up and reached between their bodies. He stroked himself back to full hardness and ran his cockhead over Claude’s opening several times before pushing in. He went slowly, pushing in just a bit and pulling back, staying at the same depth for a while before going further, doing all the things Claude had done for him their first time together.
He’d been nervous-scared, almost. It’d been more than a year since the last time he’d been with Nathan, and sex with his brother had usually been rough. Claude hadn’t known any of these things at the time, of course, but he’d sensed Peter’s anxiety. He’d suggested several times that they didn’t need to fuck; there were plenty of other things they could do together. But they’d been sleeping together for two weeks already and Peter did want him. And once Claude was inside him the fear evaporated. Claude wasn’t his brother. And he wasn’t his father. He was gentle. There’d been very little pain, and it hadn’t lasted. Claude did things to him so differently. The pace had been amazing-long, slow thrusts with no rush to finish. And he’d held him so tightly, kept his hands moving all over his body, whispered beautiful things into his ear. Peter had been having sex since he was 15, but this was the first time he’d been made love to. His previous experiences had been more akin to being taken possession of, he realized. And Claude held him afterward, something Nathan rarely had time for. More than that, he’d still been there in the morning. He’d fucked him again, even more slowly and gently than the night before, something Peter wouldn’t have thought possible. They’d slept in the same bed every night since.
Peter rocked slowly. He lay on top of Claude, with his face pressed between Claude’s shoulder blades. He was fully inside Claude’s body now, moaning into his skin. Claude squeezed Peter’s hand where it lay on the pillow. “Feels good, mate.”
“Yeah,” Peter gasped. “Yeah?”
“Mm-hm, Pete. But I think it’s time you gave me a proper fuck, yeah?” Claude, who’d been still up until now, pushed back into Peter’s next thrust, causing Peter’s breath to hitch. He did it again, and again, until the two were moving smoothly together. Claude lifted a bit onto his knees and Peter pulled the pillow out from under him and replaced it with his hand, letting Claude thrust in and out of the circle of his grip. Peter was crying out now with each exhalation and Claude matched him with quiet grunts.
“Are-are you-okay?” Peter gasped out.
“’M fine, Pete. Not goin’ to last much longer, though.”
“Yeah, me neither. I… Oh, god, Claude. I-this-I never-“ Peter lost his thought in a strangled moan. Claude increased the pace between them again, and Peter tightened his grip on Claude’s cock. Claude began to moan now, too, a sound that never failed to kick Peter’s arousal into high gear. When Claude tensed under and around him, coming suddenly and hard, Peter’s brain nearly seized. The day, everything, came flooding back to him in a quick second of shocking clarity: He was in love, and loved back. He was married. To Claude. Who was coming apart beneath him on their wedding night. These realizations collided with the incredible sensation of Claude’s muscles contracting tightly around him. His orgasm gripped him hard and he cried out as he arched into Claude’s body. His mind blanked and profound pleasure swirled in his groin, his belly, his chest.
It was several long moments before either of them spoke or moved. Peter lay collapsed on top of Claude as both men slowly regained their breath and awareness. Peter opened his eyes when Claude gently brought Peter’s hand to his mouth and kissed it.
“You okay back there, mate?”
Peter gave a breathy laugh. “Yep. I’m good. Really good.”
Claude squeezed Peter’s hand. “Good. You wouldn’t mind movin’ offa me, then, would ya? Startin’ to find it hard to breathe with your dead weight on me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Alright.” They gasped together as Peter pulled himself out of Claude’s body. He collapsed onto his back and shivered as air hit the sweat on his chest. Claude maneuvered onto his side and propped himself on an elbow to look down at Peter. He pushed the sweaty hair off Peter’s forehead then caressed his fingers down the side of his face and neck, around the back of his neck into his hair. He leaned down and kissed him deeply.
“Don’t be gettin’ any ideas ‘bout doin’ it again anytime soon, but that was real good.”
Peter smiled. “That’s good to hear. I was a little afraid you’d like it too much and then we’d be fighting over who was going to bottom.”
Claude laughed. “Yeah, mate, don’t think we have to worry too much about that.” He kissed Peter again, then pulled back to tell him, “Seriously, though, Pete. Felt real good.”
“Thank you,” Peter said quietly.
“Yeah, love.” Claude stroked the side of Peter’s face again. “How ‘bout we clean up a bit and then take a quick snooze? ‘M feelin’ a little drowsy after the pummelin’ ya just gave me, but I’d still like ta have my way with ya before the night is over, yeah?”
Peter smiled and pulled Claude’s mouth back to his own. After the kiss he looked Claude in the eye and said, without any fear, “I love you, Claude Rains.” He didn’t care whether Claude said it back or not; he knew that Claude loved him. Knew it beyond doubt. Knew that even if the fear of loss still visited him from time to time that he could regard it as a specter of his past. Claude wasn’t leaving.
Even so, he was grateful to hear Claude’s words, whispered softly but clearly against his lips, “I love you, too, Peter. I love you, mate. I do.”