Fic: Exes and Oh's
Rating: PG
Word Count: 806
Disclaimer: Heroes characters belong to Tim Kring.
A/N: For the Plaude Bingo prompt "finding the perfect gift."
Summary: Claude attempts some gift-shopping for Peter, and gets a bad surprise.
In Claude’s opinion, when a man just wanted to be alone with his thoughts, there was nothing worse in the world than having a nosy empath around.
He’d thought they had an understanding. When he crammed himself into the far corner of the living room near the window, invisibility optional, that meant “don’t bother me.” It hadn’t seemed like a complicated concept. But then, he knew perfectly well Peter could complicate a piece of string, so it was really only a matter of time anyway.
After barely an hour, Peter dropped onto the sofa that faced away from the window and laid an arm across the back of it, chin propped on his bicep, looking at Claude with those ridiculous eyes of his. “Hey.”
Claude decided to keep his gaze trained outside, but had to acknowledge him with the slightest of hums.
“You’re quiet today.”
“You’re welcome.”
Peter chuckled softly, and Claude had to see that. The dipped head, the fall of dark hair and flicker of darker eyelashes. Then he remembered, and his stomach churned. He looked away. “Not the start of a trend, is it? It’s nice every once in a while, but...”
Claude sighed, “Too soon to tell, mate.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Claude shrugged, already busy marshalling his forces.
“Come on. You were fine this morning, then you went out after lunch and now you’re sitting here like you’re catatonic. It’s creeping me out. What happened?”
Should’ve gone to the park or somewhere, Claude belatedly realized. That’s what I get for bein’ in this mess though, ain’t it? Instincts’ve withered. “Was just shopping.” Even that came out as a confession. A simple action completed by hundreds of millions of people every day and to Claude it was as exotic as brain surgery. What’m I even doing here?
“And?”
“And I bumped into someone.” His heart actually hurt. That couldn’t be normal. He dared to glance at Peter’s confused face.
“Who?”
“James Brayford. Nice bloke, very congenial.” Claude gazed masochistically at Peter’s dawning realization. “He says hello.”
“Wow. James,” Peter said with a soft laugh, looking away, “I haven’t seen him since-”
“October, 2004. He remembers.” A wistful reverie in the stranger’s eyes, all Peter’s doing. Claude would’ve guessed he’d want to punch James, but all he’d done was feel tired. Alien.
Peter shook his head, “Wait, what- how did you run into James?”
Claude winced and fixed his eyes on the wall. It was perhaps the most pathetic part of the story. He sighed again, “Almost your birthday, isn’t it?”
“You were gift-shopping?” Peter’s tone dragged Claude’s eyes back to him. He was smiling- practically glowing with pleasant surprise and that was the entire problem right there and Claude knew it.
“Yeah,” he snapped, “An’ I was wandering around, no clue what to get, and here came dear helpful James, who knew exactly what you’d want when I could’ve searched for days and come up with nothing.” He huffed out a breath and pressed the back of his head to the wall. A hundred stinging thoughts swirled his mind, all patterned on a theme: I shouldn’t be here.
He remained motionless as he heard Peter stand and walk around the couch. When he sat down and put his cheek on Claude’s shoulder, he deigned to put his hand on Peter’s knee. “Claude, he’s an ex. Everyone has exes. He’s not here now, and I don’t want him to be. And he doesn’t know me anywhere near as well as you do. He couldn’t. You know that’s true.” He managed another tiny laugh, “It sucks meeting someone’s ex on your own. I’m sorry about that. But I’m actually a little glad too. You know he would’ve asked what I’ve been up to since I last saw him. What the hell would I tell him?”
Claude frowned. “So, being with me... that just saves a lot of awkward explanations.”
Peter did laugh then, “You’ve never seen a glass half full in your life, have you? I’m impressed.” He reached up and took Claude’s cheek in his palm, turning him to face the other man, “If you think I don’t have enough awkward explanations in my life, then you haven’t been paying attention for the past three years or so.”
Claude had to give him that one. He felt some tension ease out of his body. He closed his eyes and let his forehead fall to Peter’s.
“Better?”
“Somewhat.”
“Okay. So what’d you get me? Did you follow James’ advice?”
Claude lifted his head and rolled his eyes with a scoff, “You think I’d do anything that idiot said? Managed to get himself dumped way back when- give me a little more credit.”
Peter cracked up, and burrowed into Claude’s chest, wrapping his arms around him. “You’re impossible.”
“That makes two of us.”
Word Count: 806
Disclaimer: Heroes characters belong to Tim Kring.
A/N: For the Plaude Bingo prompt "finding the perfect gift."
Summary: Claude attempts some gift-shopping for Peter, and gets a bad surprise.
In Claude’s opinion, when a man just wanted to be alone with his thoughts, there was nothing worse in the world than having a nosy empath around.
He’d thought they had an understanding. When he crammed himself into the far corner of the living room near the window, invisibility optional, that meant “don’t bother me.” It hadn’t seemed like a complicated concept. But then, he knew perfectly well Peter could complicate a piece of string, so it was really only a matter of time anyway.
After barely an hour, Peter dropped onto the sofa that faced away from the window and laid an arm across the back of it, chin propped on his bicep, looking at Claude with those ridiculous eyes of his. “Hey.”
Claude decided to keep his gaze trained outside, but had to acknowledge him with the slightest of hums.
“You’re quiet today.”
“You’re welcome.”
Peter chuckled softly, and Claude had to see that. The dipped head, the fall of dark hair and flicker of darker eyelashes. Then he remembered, and his stomach churned. He looked away. “Not the start of a trend, is it? It’s nice every once in a while, but...”
Claude sighed, “Too soon to tell, mate.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
Claude shrugged, already busy marshalling his forces.
“Come on. You were fine this morning, then you went out after lunch and now you’re sitting here like you’re catatonic. It’s creeping me out. What happened?”
Should’ve gone to the park or somewhere, Claude belatedly realized. That’s what I get for bein’ in this mess though, ain’t it? Instincts’ve withered. “Was just shopping.” Even that came out as a confession. A simple action completed by hundreds of millions of people every day and to Claude it was as exotic as brain surgery. What’m I even doing here?
“And?”
“And I bumped into someone.” His heart actually hurt. That couldn’t be normal. He dared to glance at Peter’s confused face.
“Who?”
“James Brayford. Nice bloke, very congenial.” Claude gazed masochistically at Peter’s dawning realization. “He says hello.”
“Wow. James,” Peter said with a soft laugh, looking away, “I haven’t seen him since-”
“October, 2004. He remembers.” A wistful reverie in the stranger’s eyes, all Peter’s doing. Claude would’ve guessed he’d want to punch James, but all he’d done was feel tired. Alien.
Peter shook his head, “Wait, what- how did you run into James?”
Claude winced and fixed his eyes on the wall. It was perhaps the most pathetic part of the story. He sighed again, “Almost your birthday, isn’t it?”
“You were gift-shopping?” Peter’s tone dragged Claude’s eyes back to him. He was smiling- practically glowing with pleasant surprise and that was the entire problem right there and Claude knew it.
“Yeah,” he snapped, “An’ I was wandering around, no clue what to get, and here came dear helpful James, who knew exactly what you’d want when I could’ve searched for days and come up with nothing.” He huffed out a breath and pressed the back of his head to the wall. A hundred stinging thoughts swirled his mind, all patterned on a theme: I shouldn’t be here.
He remained motionless as he heard Peter stand and walk around the couch. When he sat down and put his cheek on Claude’s shoulder, he deigned to put his hand on Peter’s knee. “Claude, he’s an ex. Everyone has exes. He’s not here now, and I don’t want him to be. And he doesn’t know me anywhere near as well as you do. He couldn’t. You know that’s true.” He managed another tiny laugh, “It sucks meeting someone’s ex on your own. I’m sorry about that. But I’m actually a little glad too. You know he would’ve asked what I’ve been up to since I last saw him. What the hell would I tell him?”
Claude frowned. “So, being with me... that just saves a lot of awkward explanations.”
Peter did laugh then, “You’ve never seen a glass half full in your life, have you? I’m impressed.” He reached up and took Claude’s cheek in his palm, turning him to face the other man, “If you think I don’t have enough awkward explanations in my life, then you haven’t been paying attention for the past three years or so.”
Claude had to give him that one. He felt some tension ease out of his body. He closed his eyes and let his forehead fall to Peter’s.
“Better?”
“Somewhat.”
“Okay. So what’d you get me? Did you follow James’ advice?”
Claude lifted his head and rolled his eyes with a scoff, “You think I’d do anything that idiot said? Managed to get himself dumped way back when- give me a little more credit.”
Peter cracked up, and burrowed into Claude’s chest, wrapping his arms around him. “You’re impossible.”
“That makes two of us.”