Catching Up
Well this is...random. And...tiny. Started from a prompt on rounds_of_kink but didn't seem to want to turn kinky enough, so...it's just going to have to stand on it's own...595 words, I guess.
Title: Catching Up
Pairing/character: Peter and Claude.
Rating: PG
Summary: First season, pre-slash, run of the mill conversation on the street. OR IS IT?!? No, it basically is just that. Sorry.
Disclaimer: We all know the dance: if I had any ownership of Heroes, at all, Claude would never have left.
“Reflexes as sharp as always, Pete,” Claude laughed, watching him duck suddenly, and not terribly effectively, under a large roll of carpet as it lumbered past them, on a pair of much too spindly legs.
“Yeah, well, I’m kind of tired, okay?” he said, and realized just how surly he probably sounded, but didn’t especially care. “Who knows why that could be,” he finished, mostly under his breath.
“Ah, little Peter needs a nap to keep his spirits up, does he?” and it wasn't the words so much as the tone that got to him, that “I have all the answers and you can suck it” tone.
Not that Claude would say that, or anything.
He didn't have to; he had the tone.
He really was tired.
“Why do you always have to do that?’
“Do what?” Claude said, impassively, jogging along a little faster than he probably needed to just to keep warm, and Peter wasn’t entirely convinced that the man didn’t do that just to keep him continually a few paces behind.
“Just…act like that. Like you…like you…I mean is…is it really that hard for you to admit that you like me?”
He paused, thought back for a moment on what he’d just said, and was suddenly not exactly ready to look at Claude. Kept walking for a moment before he realized that the other man had stopped.
Turned around reluctantly, and sighed.
“Not…I didn’t mean like…just that you don’t think I’m a horrible person or…you…like me as a person, that’s all I-“
“Nah, Pete, you got it in one,” the man was laughing at him, stepping much too close, as Peter rolled his eyes. “I do like you. Scribble your name in my notebook, and everything. Matter of fact, I might even love you. It’s the way you’re utterly useless on your own, that does it for me. The way you act like it’s some kind of privilege for me, to come out here, keep you from goin’ out in a fiery flash, takin’ half of New York with you, and that you seem to expect some kind of respect for that. For the fact that you can’t control yourself, can’t learn what the rest of us-“
“That is not fair, all you had to deal with is-“
“You’ve no idea what I’ve had to deal with,” Claude said, voice taut and laughter from moments ago gone as suddenly as it had arrived. “And I’ll thank you to remember that, if you have any desire at all to keep me coming round and babysitting your sorry arse.”
“Tell me, then,” he said, automatically, lost for a moment in the sudden darkness in his eyes, the desperation in his tone.
“Tell you…” the man blinked at him for a moment, as if stunned.
“Well you…you’re always telling me what’s wrong with me, so you know…” an attempt to lighten the moment, and Peter tried to smile. “If you ever got bored with that, you could always…”
“Tell you what’s wrong with me?” Claude gave a laugh that was almost a chuckle, and maybe actually smiled in a way that wasn’t sharp and biting and a result of Peter having done something embarrassing. “Bit of a long story there, mate.”
“We’ve got time,” he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and smiled again. Caught Claude’s suddenly more focused expression at the gesture and had to remind himself to take a breath.
“No,” Claude said, sudden and moment-breaking. “We don’t.”
And continued down the street, leaving Peter to shake his head again, mostly to clear it, and hurry to catch up.
*
Title: Catching Up
Pairing/character: Peter and Claude.
Rating: PG
Summary: First season, pre-slash, run of the mill conversation on the street. OR IS IT?!? No, it basically is just that. Sorry.
Disclaimer: We all know the dance: if I had any ownership of Heroes, at all, Claude would never have left.
“Reflexes as sharp as always, Pete,” Claude laughed, watching him duck suddenly, and not terribly effectively, under a large roll of carpet as it lumbered past them, on a pair of much too spindly legs.
“Yeah, well, I’m kind of tired, okay?” he said, and realized just how surly he probably sounded, but didn’t especially care. “Who knows why that could be,” he finished, mostly under his breath.
“Ah, little Peter needs a nap to keep his spirits up, does he?” and it wasn't the words so much as the tone that got to him, that “I have all the answers and you can suck it” tone.
Not that Claude would say that, or anything.
He didn't have to; he had the tone.
He really was tired.
“Why do you always have to do that?’
“Do what?” Claude said, impassively, jogging along a little faster than he probably needed to just to keep warm, and Peter wasn’t entirely convinced that the man didn’t do that just to keep him continually a few paces behind.
“Just…act like that. Like you…like you…I mean is…is it really that hard for you to admit that you like me?”
He paused, thought back for a moment on what he’d just said, and was suddenly not exactly ready to look at Claude. Kept walking for a moment before he realized that the other man had stopped.
Turned around reluctantly, and sighed.
“Not…I didn’t mean like…just that you don’t think I’m a horrible person or…you…like me as a person, that’s all I-“
“Nah, Pete, you got it in one,” the man was laughing at him, stepping much too close, as Peter rolled his eyes. “I do like you. Scribble your name in my notebook, and everything. Matter of fact, I might even love you. It’s the way you’re utterly useless on your own, that does it for me. The way you act like it’s some kind of privilege for me, to come out here, keep you from goin’ out in a fiery flash, takin’ half of New York with you, and that you seem to expect some kind of respect for that. For the fact that you can’t control yourself, can’t learn what the rest of us-“
“That is not fair, all you had to deal with is-“
“You’ve no idea what I’ve had to deal with,” Claude said, voice taut and laughter from moments ago gone as suddenly as it had arrived. “And I’ll thank you to remember that, if you have any desire at all to keep me coming round and babysitting your sorry arse.”
“Tell me, then,” he said, automatically, lost for a moment in the sudden darkness in his eyes, the desperation in his tone.
“Tell you…” the man blinked at him for a moment, as if stunned.
“Well you…you’re always telling me what’s wrong with me, so you know…” an attempt to lighten the moment, and Peter tried to smile. “If you ever got bored with that, you could always…”
“Tell you what’s wrong with me?” Claude gave a laugh that was almost a chuckle, and maybe actually smiled in a way that wasn’t sharp and biting and a result of Peter having done something embarrassing. “Bit of a long story there, mate.”
“We’ve got time,” he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and smiled again. Caught Claude’s suddenly more focused expression at the gesture and had to remind himself to take a breath.
“No,” Claude said, sudden and moment-breaking. “We don’t.”
And continued down the street, leaving Peter to shake his head again, mostly to clear it, and hurry to catch up.
*