fic: death drive (claire/knox)
Title: Death Drive
Rating: NC-17 (language, sexuality)
Pairing: Knox/Claire
Spoilers: Post-AU S2 (Knox was never caught)
Warnings: Graphic sex
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
Notes: Gidget stepped in and protected my sanity from me and further proved she is the most awesome beta to ever beta, for reals. And this was my first time writing any real Claire/Knox, so tell me how I did, :D
Summary: It takes two days to realize she’s following him.
The girl shows up at the diner two streets away instead of Bennet.
When she first slides into the booth opposite him, he ignores her, his eyes focused on the irritating New York Senator smiling on the television above her head. But he feels the intensity of her stare increase and he glances down at her, finds her tearing a still-full sugar packet in half and dropping the carcass onto the table, lips pursed.
“I only talk to Bennet.”
“He’s not available.”
Knox meets the childishly stony glare and it makes him grin until he sees something glint in her gaze.
But then it’s gone and Knox decides it wasn’t there in the first place.
“I told him how things worked,” he tells her and gets to his feet, tossing a few bills down for his meal. “Bennet knows where to find me when he remembers.” The bell over the door jingles merrily as he leaves her looking like an angry child.
It takes two days to realize she’s following him.
He’s managed to hide out here two months successfully dodging Parkman, so he feels irritation, maybe a little embarrassment, when he notices the gray Sedan parked down his street as he’s leaving his place one morning. When he starts down the sidewalk, the car doesn’t move and the figure he can see through the glass doesn’t seem to react.
Hours later, the car is still there.
A muscle in his back tics angrily, and he sets off for the damn car, realizing halfway there she’s on the phone.
Five feet away and she’s still on the phone, not noticing him.
Moving the last bit, Knox tries the door, is pleasantly surprised when he finds it unlocked.
So he lets himself in, blowing out an impressed breath as he slides across black leather.
Phone still held against her ear, she’s staring at him carefully, looking cautious but not too frightened.
No, she’s not scared.
Knox smiles at her, and then feels his teeth scrape together when there’s no answering flicker of unease in her.
“I’m still here,” she says into the phone, eyes on him as he examines her pen, clicking it a few times before dropping it back down and fiddling with something else. He finds sunglasses hooked by her drink, some kind of fruity soda in a closed cup. “Yeah, it’s fine, I got it- That’s mine,” she informs him, taking the drink from him and putting it back.
“You bring me some?”
“You can get your own,” she replies, and then tells the person on the phone, “I only need a few more weeks.”
Knox is getting tired of feeling like he’s being mocked. “I told you to tell Bennet-”
“He’s my father,” she tells him bluntly, and successfully disarms him into silence.
It’s been more than a year since he met Bennet, since he found himself scrambling to survive after people started chasing him around like he’s a goddamned escaped dog- according to Bennet, it has something to do with someone named Bishop dying, and he made it sound like the world was ending and becoming something else.
Then Parkman showed up, and Knox had given in to his survival instincts.
This way, the Company can’t get him and he’s safe from whatever Parkman wants from him, and Bennet gets info on whatever other “special people” Knox meets in the process of keeping his ass out of dodge.
Nice, neat, and he’s never been ashamed of being a rat when it’s needed.
But he has no idea what the fuck this means, and it only pisses him off more.
“Your daddy lets you do this kind of work?” he asks when he can trust his voice, knowing he won’t give his fury away.
“He doesn’t know.”
She’s still on the phone, something that tugs at his annoyance. “You going to finish that call?”
There’s a thoughtful look, her fingers flexing against smooth plastic, and then she says, “Yeah, it’s done.”
Her thumb presses against a key, and then it’s closed, and she drops it to the side and that’s that.
This time he takes her in more carefully than he did at the diner, trying to work out the mechanics of this little change- she still don’t look like much, a little blonde girl who looks like she’s dressed up in her daddy’s clothes, but now, giving her Bennet’s last name makes him think of that glint he thought he’d seen.
“You got a name?”
“Claire.”
“Claire.” She’s still staring at him, only a muscle in her jaw flexing as he weighs the name. “Claire.” There’s a strand of blonde hair on her face, escaped from her ponytail, and he decides the name fits. “Your daddy didn’t send you?”
“No.”
“Somebody did.”
There’s that glint again, as she opens her mouth and then closes it, considers. Finally says, “My grandmother.”
“Granny sent you,” he said, further thrown by this next little announcement.
There’s a second, another thoughtful hesitation.
“Angela Petrelli’s my grandmother,” little Claire Bennet tells him.
It takes a moment for the name to click, to remember the Senator he dislikes who they say is going to the White House- and then he’s laughing as she shakes her head in disgust and picks up her phone again, flipping it open to check something. The reaction is somehow enough to assure him that she’s not joking and he laughs until his ribs are aching and he’s out of breath. “You don’t look anything like your daddy, girl.”
“Just a sperm donor,” she assures him, sounding so childish in her annoyance that he can only laugh harder.
“Senator’s got a dirty little secret,” he breathes when he can speak again, feeling lazy and sated and aware of the sky going dark outside the car on the almost empty street. So Knox loosens up in his seat, stretches his arm out along the back of her seat. “How much do you think he’ll pay for you?” His fingers brush blonde hair, lets his knee drift to her- a smart person would be getting anxious now, start making his veins hum.
But there’s nothing, and she looks more annoyed than anything else as she drops the phone to the side.
Girl ain’t got no survival instinct.
“Not that much.” Her lips press together into something like a sneer as she reaches back and pushes his arm off her shoulders, completely indifferent to the way he’s touching her knee with his. “But he’s got bigger secrets than me in his closet.” She pulls open her bag and his humor dies away when he finds a picture of himself clipped to the front of a relatively thick folder. “This is yours.” She drops the folder onto his lap and then pats it once playfully- but her hand withdraws so fast he’s sure he’s just imagined it. “My grandmother thought you might like to have it.”
When he picks the folder up, it’s as heavy as it looks and he remembers Bennet telling him that they had enough on him to lock him up and throw away the key. With this in his hands, he’s sickeningly sure that Bennet was telling the truth.
“This all they have on me?”
“Yes.” Off his look, she explains, “She said you’d need a commitment on her part.”
“This is her commitment.”
“That’s what she said.” It’s odd, the careful blank look on her face juxtaposed against the hint of something she had to have gotten from Bennet in her voice. “She’s taken over the Company and can make promises she can keep.”
“Bennet doesn’t know you’re here.”
“I don’t do his work,” she bites out, and the change from indifference to irritation is like the flip of a switch, reignites the earlier interest like a damn match. It isn’t like he’s been going without but she’s tiny the way he likes, and at this angle, he can see a hint of skin through where her shirt closes, a narrow strip between where the pale buttons trace down her front.
“Why are you here then?”
“I have my reasons.”
When he reaches out, slides a palm across her knee, there’s no jump, no spike of panic, and he exhales, already opening her legs more. His fingers find the buttons of her slacks as he drops the folder to the floor with his other hand, shifting on the seat as he tugs her closer. The movement knocks the half-full cup into the backseat and she swears, looking disgruntled even as she allows him to pull her across the seat.
“Here,” and he’s not sure if it’s a question or a comment so he shrugs, grins, peeling fabric from her hips and peeling it down her legs, discarding it to the side. Under his hands, there’s nothing but skin as he catches her hips, tugs her legs wide and she finally really reacts then, little gasp leaving her when his thumb dips between her thighs.
He’s surprised by how wet she is, and decides it almost makes up for her lack of any fear.
“Not sure what to make of you,” he informs her as he gets his belt open, frees himself and presses against her, the feel of her ready for him almost enough to erase the way she should be filling him. “That your power, no fear?”
“I’m not afraid to-” but that’s all she gets out before his hips jerk and he pushes into her, before she groans and arches, head tilting back as he rocks a few times, getting used to how she feels. He sees her fingers fluttering just out of sight, looks up as they knot into the seat under her head and she’s panting already, so excited under him he can’t slow down now.
“Yeah?” he prods, hearing excitement spike in her breathing as he keeps up with her easily, slides his hands down her sides to find her ass, lift her up a bit. “You’re not afraid to what?”
But she doesn’t seem to hear him, and he shudders a little at how close she already seems to be, the short sounds she’s making as she urges him on keeping him going past the vague unease of what he doesn’t know. There’s a pressure building at his back and he hisses out a breath, doesn’t stop when she cries out something and shudders around him, still moving with him.
In the dim light that’s coming through the windows, he realizes her eyes are closed, her teeth in her bottom lip.
Knox comes before he realizes it and the noise she makes leaves his vision burning gray as he finally slows, breathless and satisfied beyond words but not sliding out of her. When she shifts restlessly after a minute, sweaty and clearly wanting to get out from under him, he tightens his fingers in her skin, shakes his head and presses her down into the seat. “Off.”
“Not finished.”
“Feel like you are.”
Knox decides that was good enough not to be too pissed about the smirk he can hear under her breathless tone.
“Finish what you were saying,” he orders when he gets his breath back, and she sighs beneath him, her breasts brushing against his chest before she stretches out again, heat of her thighs almost unbearable around him.
“I’m not afraid to die.”
He’s heard it before, laughs whenever people say it, but she’s staring up at him and there still isn’t any fear and his skin should be burning for more than just one reason right now. Without thinking, he lifts a little, tilts his head down to see where his fingers are bruising her skin.
When he lets go with one hand, slides a thumb across what should be an angry red mark, it’s clear.
“Nice,” he finally says, and settles his weight atop her again, bringing his hands up to get some of his balance as he stares down at her, considers all of the new information. He’s somehow sure Bennet won’t know about this unless she tells him, and he’s just as sure she won’t be telling him. “You gonna tell granny about this?”
“She probably already knows,” Bennet’s girl mutters and when she sighs in annoyance, her breasts lift again.
Pushing her blouse up on impulse, he squeezes one through the fabric of her bra, fascinated when her eyelids flutter.
“How would she know?”
Silence greets him, green eyes as careful as they were before their fuck.
His hand twists, slips under her bra, and he circles the peak he finds, hearing her breath catch as her legs shift.
“She’s like us, dreams things,” she tells him raggedly, arching into his hand as he bends, pushing fabric up to let his mouth open against her, tongue circling once and pulling back when she gasps, twists under him in a clear order.
“What about Petrelli, your daddy?”
“Just flight,” and she’s starting to push at his chest so he reaches between them, his fingers searching until he finds her clit. Her entire body jolts at his touch and just like before, he can’t stop. Bent over her, fingers working between her legs even as he kneads her breast roughly, he can’t hold in his groan when she comes a second time, crying out something he doesn’t understand but still likes hearing.
When she’s stretched out under him, trembling and looking as relaxed as he feels, he pulls away and climbs off, nudging her feet down enough to drop back into his seat.
After another minute, she sits up, reaches for her clothes and wrestles them on.
“I’ll see you,” Knox informs her after he picks up the folder, meaning it as he opens the door and gets out of the car, turning and bending to peer in at her. At the back of his mind, there’s a certainty that he wants to do this again.
She must see it on his face because she nods, and he slams the door and leaves her sitting in the car.
When he looks out of his window a few seconds later, she’s already gone.
Rating: NC-17 (language, sexuality)
Pairing: Knox/Claire
Spoilers: Post-AU S2 (Knox was never caught)
Warnings: Graphic sex
Disclaimer: Heroes belongs to Tim Kring, NBC et al.
Notes: Gidget stepped in and protected my sanity from me and further proved she is the most awesome beta to ever beta, for reals. And this was my first time writing any real Claire/Knox, so tell me how I did, :D
Summary: It takes two days to realize she’s following him.
The girl shows up at the diner two streets away instead of Bennet.
When she first slides into the booth opposite him, he ignores her, his eyes focused on the irritating New York Senator smiling on the television above her head. But he feels the intensity of her stare increase and he glances down at her, finds her tearing a still-full sugar packet in half and dropping the carcass onto the table, lips pursed.
“I only talk to Bennet.”
“He’s not available.”
Knox meets the childishly stony glare and it makes him grin until he sees something glint in her gaze.
But then it’s gone and Knox decides it wasn’t there in the first place.
“I told him how things worked,” he tells her and gets to his feet, tossing a few bills down for his meal. “Bennet knows where to find me when he remembers.” The bell over the door jingles merrily as he leaves her looking like an angry child.
It takes two days to realize she’s following him.
He’s managed to hide out here two months successfully dodging Parkman, so he feels irritation, maybe a little embarrassment, when he notices the gray Sedan parked down his street as he’s leaving his place one morning. When he starts down the sidewalk, the car doesn’t move and the figure he can see through the glass doesn’t seem to react.
Hours later, the car is still there.
A muscle in his back tics angrily, and he sets off for the damn car, realizing halfway there she’s on the phone.
Five feet away and she’s still on the phone, not noticing him.
Moving the last bit, Knox tries the door, is pleasantly surprised when he finds it unlocked.
So he lets himself in, blowing out an impressed breath as he slides across black leather.
Phone still held against her ear, she’s staring at him carefully, looking cautious but not too frightened.
No, she’s not scared.
Knox smiles at her, and then feels his teeth scrape together when there’s no answering flicker of unease in her.
“I’m still here,” she says into the phone, eyes on him as he examines her pen, clicking it a few times before dropping it back down and fiddling with something else. He finds sunglasses hooked by her drink, some kind of fruity soda in a closed cup. “Yeah, it’s fine, I got it- That’s mine,” she informs him, taking the drink from him and putting it back.
“You bring me some?”
“You can get your own,” she replies, and then tells the person on the phone, “I only need a few more weeks.”
Knox is getting tired of feeling like he’s being mocked. “I told you to tell Bennet-”
“He’s my father,” she tells him bluntly, and successfully disarms him into silence.
It’s been more than a year since he met Bennet, since he found himself scrambling to survive after people started chasing him around like he’s a goddamned escaped dog- according to Bennet, it has something to do with someone named Bishop dying, and he made it sound like the world was ending and becoming something else.
Then Parkman showed up, and Knox had given in to his survival instincts.
This way, the Company can’t get him and he’s safe from whatever Parkman wants from him, and Bennet gets info on whatever other “special people” Knox meets in the process of keeping his ass out of dodge.
Nice, neat, and he’s never been ashamed of being a rat when it’s needed.
But he has no idea what the fuck this means, and it only pisses him off more.
“Your daddy lets you do this kind of work?” he asks when he can trust his voice, knowing he won’t give his fury away.
“He doesn’t know.”
She’s still on the phone, something that tugs at his annoyance. “You going to finish that call?”
There’s a thoughtful look, her fingers flexing against smooth plastic, and then she says, “Yeah, it’s done.”
Her thumb presses against a key, and then it’s closed, and she drops it to the side and that’s that.
This time he takes her in more carefully than he did at the diner, trying to work out the mechanics of this little change- she still don’t look like much, a little blonde girl who looks like she’s dressed up in her daddy’s clothes, but now, giving her Bennet’s last name makes him think of that glint he thought he’d seen.
“You got a name?”
“Claire.”
“Claire.” She’s still staring at him, only a muscle in her jaw flexing as he weighs the name. “Claire.” There’s a strand of blonde hair on her face, escaped from her ponytail, and he decides the name fits. “Your daddy didn’t send you?”
“No.”
“Somebody did.”
There’s that glint again, as she opens her mouth and then closes it, considers. Finally says, “My grandmother.”
“Granny sent you,” he said, further thrown by this next little announcement.
There’s a second, another thoughtful hesitation.
“Angela Petrelli’s my grandmother,” little Claire Bennet tells him.
It takes a moment for the name to click, to remember the Senator he dislikes who they say is going to the White House- and then he’s laughing as she shakes her head in disgust and picks up her phone again, flipping it open to check something. The reaction is somehow enough to assure him that she’s not joking and he laughs until his ribs are aching and he’s out of breath. “You don’t look anything like your daddy, girl.”
“Just a sperm donor,” she assures him, sounding so childish in her annoyance that he can only laugh harder.
“Senator’s got a dirty little secret,” he breathes when he can speak again, feeling lazy and sated and aware of the sky going dark outside the car on the almost empty street. So Knox loosens up in his seat, stretches his arm out along the back of her seat. “How much do you think he’ll pay for you?” His fingers brush blonde hair, lets his knee drift to her- a smart person would be getting anxious now, start making his veins hum.
But there’s nothing, and she looks more annoyed than anything else as she drops the phone to the side.
Girl ain’t got no survival instinct.
“Not that much.” Her lips press together into something like a sneer as she reaches back and pushes his arm off her shoulders, completely indifferent to the way he’s touching her knee with his. “But he’s got bigger secrets than me in his closet.” She pulls open her bag and his humor dies away when he finds a picture of himself clipped to the front of a relatively thick folder. “This is yours.” She drops the folder onto his lap and then pats it once playfully- but her hand withdraws so fast he’s sure he’s just imagined it. “My grandmother thought you might like to have it.”
When he picks the folder up, it’s as heavy as it looks and he remembers Bennet telling him that they had enough on him to lock him up and throw away the key. With this in his hands, he’s sickeningly sure that Bennet was telling the truth.
“This all they have on me?”
“Yes.” Off his look, she explains, “She said you’d need a commitment on her part.”
“This is her commitment.”
“That’s what she said.” It’s odd, the careful blank look on her face juxtaposed against the hint of something she had to have gotten from Bennet in her voice. “She’s taken over the Company and can make promises she can keep.”
“Bennet doesn’t know you’re here.”
“I don’t do his work,” she bites out, and the change from indifference to irritation is like the flip of a switch, reignites the earlier interest like a damn match. It isn’t like he’s been going without but she’s tiny the way he likes, and at this angle, he can see a hint of skin through where her shirt closes, a narrow strip between where the pale buttons trace down her front.
“Why are you here then?”
“I have my reasons.”
When he reaches out, slides a palm across her knee, there’s no jump, no spike of panic, and he exhales, already opening her legs more. His fingers find the buttons of her slacks as he drops the folder to the floor with his other hand, shifting on the seat as he tugs her closer. The movement knocks the half-full cup into the backseat and she swears, looking disgruntled even as she allows him to pull her across the seat.
“Here,” and he’s not sure if it’s a question or a comment so he shrugs, grins, peeling fabric from her hips and peeling it down her legs, discarding it to the side. Under his hands, there’s nothing but skin as he catches her hips, tugs her legs wide and she finally really reacts then, little gasp leaving her when his thumb dips between her thighs.
He’s surprised by how wet she is, and decides it almost makes up for her lack of any fear.
“Not sure what to make of you,” he informs her as he gets his belt open, frees himself and presses against her, the feel of her ready for him almost enough to erase the way she should be filling him. “That your power, no fear?”
“I’m not afraid to-” but that’s all she gets out before his hips jerk and he pushes into her, before she groans and arches, head tilting back as he rocks a few times, getting used to how she feels. He sees her fingers fluttering just out of sight, looks up as they knot into the seat under her head and she’s panting already, so excited under him he can’t slow down now.
“Yeah?” he prods, hearing excitement spike in her breathing as he keeps up with her easily, slides his hands down her sides to find her ass, lift her up a bit. “You’re not afraid to what?”
But she doesn’t seem to hear him, and he shudders a little at how close she already seems to be, the short sounds she’s making as she urges him on keeping him going past the vague unease of what he doesn’t know. There’s a pressure building at his back and he hisses out a breath, doesn’t stop when she cries out something and shudders around him, still moving with him.
In the dim light that’s coming through the windows, he realizes her eyes are closed, her teeth in her bottom lip.
Knox comes before he realizes it and the noise she makes leaves his vision burning gray as he finally slows, breathless and satisfied beyond words but not sliding out of her. When she shifts restlessly after a minute, sweaty and clearly wanting to get out from under him, he tightens his fingers in her skin, shakes his head and presses her down into the seat. “Off.”
“Not finished.”
“Feel like you are.”
Knox decides that was good enough not to be too pissed about the smirk he can hear under her breathless tone.
“Finish what you were saying,” he orders when he gets his breath back, and she sighs beneath him, her breasts brushing against his chest before she stretches out again, heat of her thighs almost unbearable around him.
“I’m not afraid to die.”
He’s heard it before, laughs whenever people say it, but she’s staring up at him and there still isn’t any fear and his skin should be burning for more than just one reason right now. Without thinking, he lifts a little, tilts his head down to see where his fingers are bruising her skin.
When he lets go with one hand, slides a thumb across what should be an angry red mark, it’s clear.
“Nice,” he finally says, and settles his weight atop her again, bringing his hands up to get some of his balance as he stares down at her, considers all of the new information. He’s somehow sure Bennet won’t know about this unless she tells him, and he’s just as sure she won’t be telling him. “You gonna tell granny about this?”
“She probably already knows,” Bennet’s girl mutters and when she sighs in annoyance, her breasts lift again.
Pushing her blouse up on impulse, he squeezes one through the fabric of her bra, fascinated when her eyelids flutter.
“How would she know?”
Silence greets him, green eyes as careful as they were before their fuck.
His hand twists, slips under her bra, and he circles the peak he finds, hearing her breath catch as her legs shift.
“She’s like us, dreams things,” she tells him raggedly, arching into his hand as he bends, pushing fabric up to let his mouth open against her, tongue circling once and pulling back when she gasps, twists under him in a clear order.
“What about Petrelli, your daddy?”
“Just flight,” and she’s starting to push at his chest so he reaches between them, his fingers searching until he finds her clit. Her entire body jolts at his touch and just like before, he can’t stop. Bent over her, fingers working between her legs even as he kneads her breast roughly, he can’t hold in his groan when she comes a second time, crying out something he doesn’t understand but still likes hearing.
When she’s stretched out under him, trembling and looking as relaxed as he feels, he pulls away and climbs off, nudging her feet down enough to drop back into his seat.
After another minute, she sits up, reaches for her clothes and wrestles them on.
“I’ll see you,” Knox informs her after he picks up the folder, meaning it as he opens the door and gets out of the car, turning and bending to peer in at her. At the back of his mind, there’s a certainty that he wants to do this again.
She must see it on his face because she nods, and he slams the door and leaves her sitting in the car.
When he looks out of his window a few seconds later, she’s already gone.