Guess Who; Claude/Bennet; Heroes
Title: Guess Who
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Claude/Bennet
Rating: PG-13
Summary: 1991, a tazer gun, a bored Claude and Bennet working in a hotel room. What could go wrong?
A/N: Betaed by the awesome karathephantom. For fantasticpants because I can. Feedback much appreciated.
Bennet is leaning over the hotel desk, blinking his eyes wearily against the amber lighting as he skims over the tightly-packed words in the stack of documents. He is leaning over the desk, a sliver of his neck exposed beneath the collar of his crumpled shirt.
Boring, routine, tiring.
And then he feels cool metal touching against that sliver of his neck.
"Boo." Warm breath skims past his ear.
"I'm working," he retorts almost methodically. But he stops looking at the papers in front of him, sits up, and feels the cold metal prongs pressing lightly into his flesh as he does so.
"Guess who," the person behind him says again. A person with an all-too-familiar voice. Bennet smirks to himself, almost chuckles.
"And I'll be electrocuted for each wrong answer?" he asks Claude.
"Maybe. You could try."
"I could."
"You should."
"You should also stop playing with the taser guns."
"Many uses, these taser guns."
Bennet nods. "Like electrocuting your partner."
"Electrocuting your partner when you're bored," Claude corrects him.
"So you are going to electrocute me if I'm wrong."
"Maybe not here. I don't fancy you seizing up and dying. Would be shit to explain, wouldn't it be?"
The metal prongs, now warm, slide down over his collarbone. A hand follows, almost teasing. Teasing as it slides down over his back, tracing his spine and ending up just beside the small of his back. "Maybe… here." He slides it further down, over the jut of his hipbone, curving down to his thigh and now Claude is leaning on him, his chin on his shoulder and their cheeks almost touching. "Nah, here."
"There." Bennet swallows, tries to remember how to breathe.
"So are you answering my question or not? Guess who."
There is a long pause. The metal prongs press harder into his flesh and his pulse skips with every breath. He can feel the damp wall of heat behind him, leaning onto, into him.
Bennet looks up calmly. "Claude."
"Bastard," Claude exclaims as he leans over and kisses Bennet; skims his teeth over his bottom lip. Hard, yet yielding. The taser still lies comfortably on Bennet's thigh and when he looks up at that feral grin, he gives a mock threatening look, eyes rolled upwards. He knows.
Claude presses the button anyway.
Fandom: Heroes
Pairing: Claude/Bennet
Rating: PG-13
Summary: 1991, a tazer gun, a bored Claude and Bennet working in a hotel room. What could go wrong?
A/N: Betaed by the awesome karathephantom. For fantasticpants because I can. Feedback much appreciated.
Bennet is leaning over the hotel desk, blinking his eyes wearily against the amber lighting as he skims over the tightly-packed words in the stack of documents. He is leaning over the desk, a sliver of his neck exposed beneath the collar of his crumpled shirt.
Boring, routine, tiring.
And then he feels cool metal touching against that sliver of his neck.
"Boo." Warm breath skims past his ear.
"I'm working," he retorts almost methodically. But he stops looking at the papers in front of him, sits up, and feels the cold metal prongs pressing lightly into his flesh as he does so.
"Guess who," the person behind him says again. A person with an all-too-familiar voice. Bennet smirks to himself, almost chuckles.
"And I'll be electrocuted for each wrong answer?" he asks Claude.
"Maybe. You could try."
"I could."
"You should."
"You should also stop playing with the taser guns."
"Many uses, these taser guns."
Bennet nods. "Like electrocuting your partner."
"Electrocuting your partner when you're bored," Claude corrects him.
"So you are going to electrocute me if I'm wrong."
"Maybe not here. I don't fancy you seizing up and dying. Would be shit to explain, wouldn't it be?"
The metal prongs, now warm, slide down over his collarbone. A hand follows, almost teasing. Teasing as it slides down over his back, tracing his spine and ending up just beside the small of his back. "Maybe… here." He slides it further down, over the jut of his hipbone, curving down to his thigh and now Claude is leaning on him, his chin on his shoulder and their cheeks almost touching. "Nah, here."
"There." Bennet swallows, tries to remember how to breathe.
"So are you answering my question or not? Guess who."
There is a long pause. The metal prongs press harder into his flesh and his pulse skips with every breath. He can feel the damp wall of heat behind him, leaning onto, into him.
Bennet looks up calmly. "Claude."
"Bastard," Claude exclaims as he leans over and kisses Bennet; skims his teeth over his bottom lip. Hard, yet yielding. The taser still lies comfortably on Bennet's thigh and when he looks up at that feral grin, he gives a mock threatening look, eyes rolled upwards. He knows.
Claude presses the button anyway.