The Fall of Claire Petrelli

Claire awoke abruptly, and wasn’t sure why. It was still dark, and it was raining now. The sky was that horrid black-orange color of four in the morning, demons surely lurking behind those inky clouds.

Claire stretched and tried to settle into a new position. As her eyelids fell shut, she heard a loud whisper come in through her partially open door.

“Shut the fuck up, Pete!” her father’s voice demanded. His door had to be slightly open as well if she was able to hear him so clearly from all the way down the hall.

“Sorry, Nate,” Peter returned.

Claire was alarmed at the agitation in Peter’s voice, and she went to investigate. What could they possibly be fighting about at four in the morning?

She listened, but there was nothing but silence now. Claire walked lightly past the door she knew was Angela’s, not wanting to wake her and risk her wrath. A muffled sound stopped her dead in her tracks. That was Peter, and it sounded like he was in pain. What the hell was going on? She padded softly in her slippers to Nathan’s door, peeking in surreptitiously.

She clapped a hand to her mouth, frozen in place as she watched her father and her uncle undress each other.

*Oh, my God.* That had not been a sound of pain. *Am I really seeing this?*

Peter’s body stood out porcelain-white against Nathan’s darker skin tone. They kept eye contact, and when they were not lip-locked, they smiled and even laughed softly as they touched each other.

They were actually quite beautiful to watch, and it became hard to tell with the fluidity of their motions where Nathan’s body ended and Peter’s began. Clearly they’d been doing this secretly for a long time, successfully keeping this clandestine relationship from everyone until now. However disturbing this was, Claire couldn’t tear her eyes away.

Then Peter’s eyes were on her, the intensity of his gaze boring into her very soul.

She turned around to run back to her room, but Nathan demanded, “Stop her, Peter.”

She hit an invisible brick wall; Peter had an arm out and was holding her in place. All she could do was swivel her head towards them.

“Peter--let me go. Please,” she entreated softly.

“Oh, no you don’t,” her father said. “You’ve seen way too much.” Peter pulled her closer, and when she felt Peter’s invisible hold relent, Claire stepped reluctantly into her father’s room and closed the door, knowing she had no choice. Claire couldn’t believe what was happening; her father and her uncle had been having sex. She started to shake in fear, unsure of what might happen next.

Peter had covered his lower body with the blanket, trying to retain some of his decency, but Nathan hadn’t even bothered to cover up. He was on his feet in seconds, then towering over her, his anger palpable. Claire cringed and backed up, hitting the door.

“Nate, you’re scaring the shit out of her. Cover yourself for Christ’s sake!” Peter cried, throwing his brother’s boxer shorts at him.

Nathan put on the boxers and then pressed his palms to his forehead, sitting down next to Peter. “Fuck. Pete, you want to handle this?” he asked halfheartedly. Peter shot Nathan a look of dismay.

Claire gushed, “I promise I won’t say anything to anyone ever I swear I never saw anything please believe me I--”

Nathan groaned. “No. It’s not that easy, Claire. Obviously you know what the hell you just saw. You wanted to be a Petrelli? It’s time you learned how fucked up this family is.”

Peter said, finally conceding to his brother’s request, “Nate, you’re not helping anything. Let me.”

Claire took the bottle that Peter handed her. She took a long drink out of it, and coughed as the strong spirit flared down her esophagus into her stomach. Nathan glared at his brother, but Peter just shrugged.

Before Peter could open his mouth to speak, Claire did.

“I never wanted to be a Petrelli. I just am,” she said, her shoulders slumping. Liquid courage allowed her to shake off the discomfort of this delicate situation. She sat down on the bed between her father and her uncle, deciding to rest her head on Nathan’s chest. “You know, this shouldn’t have shocked me. I saw what you did with each other before, when I got home. For God’s sake, I kissed Peter earlier in the evening. I’ve had the biggest crush on him for as long as I can remember,” she confessed.

Peter rolled his eyes and Nathan burst out laughing, “She’s a fucking Petrelli all right!”

“Nathan--” Peter warned. Nathan was really drunk, and he had that glassy look in his eyes. Peter knew that look all too well. Their relationship was one thing, but he couldn’t let Nathan drag Claire into their madness. Peter had vowed to protect her, even if it meant from the perversions of her own father.

Nathan put his arms around his daughter and said, “Peter, did she really kiss you?”

Peter sighed. “Yeah, she did. But she was smashed drunk, Nate.”

“That’s how it usually starts,” Nathan said, not able to stifle another peal of drunken laughter. “I don’t believe it…I have to see. I have to. Peter is just so irresistible, with his innocent face and his cute little smile.” Peter looked at him crossly, but Nathan just smiled.

Nathan beckoned Peter closer, as if he wanted to tell him something confidentially, but when he was able to reach, he sealed his mouth over his brother’s, and Claire watched them in fascination. Nathan broke away, breathing hard, and laughed, “Your turn, Claire.”

*All right,* Peter conceded. As long as Nathan didn’t touch her, it was okay. After all, Peter was a Petrelli too, and he wasn’t going to pretend he hadn’t imagined what taking Claire would be like.

“I don’t know…” Claire protested, but she knew she couldn’t resist. Part of her had always wanted Peter in this way, and he looked so willing, almost like he wanted her to do it. Claire thought she saw desire flicker momentarily in Peter’s dark eyes, like a candle under a gust of wind.

*Looks like I’m really a Petrelli now,* she thought, as she latched her arms around her uncle, and Peter pulled her into his lap, her most sensitive area brushing against his erection, sending a shock through her lower belly and thighs. Next thing she knew, her mouth was filled with the taste of him, and Peter’s tongue was wrestling hers as if they were silently fighting over who had wanted the other more.

She was distantly aware of Nathan’s hands resting chastely on her shoulders as she ground herself into Peter, the blanket that had been covering him curiously missing.

Nathan breathed, “Look at all this happening in my bed. God, she wants you, Pete. Looks like we’re gonna have to fight over it.”

Peter pulled his face away from Claire long enough to groan, “Don’t fucking touch her, Nathan, I swear to God!”

*Oh, no,* Nathan thought. First of all, he had been joking, and he had meant Peter, not Claire. But Peter didn’t ever talk to him like that. What made him think he could start now? Nathan had given life to this lithe young thing that was virtually riding his brother’s cock.

“You just fucking stop me, Peter,” he challenged. He knew Peter wouldn’t.

Nathan took a handful of Claire’s hair in his fist, bared her throat, and kissed her roughly, biting hard enough to bruise, watching each appear and fade almost instantaneously. Claire was his. Peter was his as well. Daughter, little brother, it didn’t matter. They both belonged to him, and he would do what he wanted with them.

Claire bucked, writhed and moaned under Nathan’s rough treatment, and he knew she loved it, her father and her uncle vying for her attention. Nathan had just known this was how it would be.

Nathan’s hands slid under her thin tank top, cupping a breast in each one, and it was all Peter could do not to raise a hand to fling his brother off her. Nathan’s fingers kneaded Claire’s nipples, and she rubbed herself even more forcefully against Peter.

Peter wished desperately that there was not a layer of clothing preventing him from picking her up and sitting her down right on top of his cock. The thought of Claire riding him elicited a low groan from his throat.

Nathan continued on, until her nipples stood out hard, dark pink against her tanned skin. He pulled the flimsy shirt over her head, and Claire did not resist.

“Peter, are you just gonna watch with that stupid look on your face? You want her? Take her!” Nathan demanded.

Peter snapped out of it, his anger gone, replaced by an uncontrollable urge to get his hands on Claire. Peter leaned forward, pushed one of Nathan’s hands away, and closed his mouth on Claire’s breast, sucking and licking gently. Claire panted, “Peter, I’m not that fragile!”

A surge of excitement washed through Peter, and he bit down, and she gasped in half pleasure, half pain. No matter. She would heal.

Peter slid his hands into Claire’s pants, his left gripping her buttock, the other into the center of her, his fingers entirely slick before he could even get them inside her.

*God, she’s so tight,* Peter thought, his cock achingly hard now. He found that special little spot within her, and Claire’s breath caught in her throat. Claire struggled to get out of the constricting clothing, and Nathan decided to help out, pulling the pants off her.

Nathan deserved some of his attention, so Peter released Claire, and pushed the fingers of his left hand inside her. He then reached behind her, and took hold of Nathan’s cock with his right, still covered in Claire’s fluids, the lubrication allowing him to slide his hand very easily along Nathan’s length. A special thrill seized Peter as he produced moans of pleasure from both of them, all while suckling at Claire’s nipples, and blowing air on them while they were wet with his saliva. She whined and bore down on his hand, clearly wanting more of Peter inside her than just his fingers.

Claire let out a sudden gasp. “Peter, you--you have to stop,” Claire begged, forcing Peter’s fingers out of her. She rolled off of Peter and lay next to him, breathing hard. Peter gave Nathan a knowing look, and Nathan sat back, breathing heavily as well.

“Can’t let him play too long,” Nathan said. “He’ll finish us both off with just his hands.”

Claire laughed in agreement, her body trembling, her nerves recovering from the stimulation. *Oh, God, what the hell am I doing?* she wondered. *I can’t believe I just let them do that to me.*

She turned her head to look at them. Peter and Nathan both had turned towards her, and were looking her nude body up and down, two pairs of identical hazel eyes admiring her petite, fit frame.

“You got her all worked up, Pete. Let her calm down. Let’s give her a show,” Nathan suggested, and leaned in to kiss his brother’s shoulder.

Claire asked the question she’d been holding back. “So, ah--even though you do this, you both aren’t like, gay, right?”

Nathan snorted in laughter. “Honey, I made you, and I don’t sleep with any other men. So, no. Now, when it comes to Peter, I don’t know.” He closed a hand around his brother’s cock, and taunted, “You still like the ladies, Pete? Even after me? You ever been with any other men?”

Nathan had asked his last question casually, but he would definitely smack him in the mouth if Peter answered yes. Peter could fuck any girl he wanted, but that sexy little ass of his was Nathan’s alone.

Claire watched in astonishment as Nathan’s hand moved expertly over Peter’s cock, rendering him helpless against the pillow.

“Fuck you, Nate. Of course not. I’m as straight as you are an asshole,” Peter groaned.

“Okay, there you go, Claire,” Nathan said. “Could you keep him from running his mouth while I show you what he really likes?”

Claire asked, her mouth suddenly dry, “What do you mean?”

Nathan said, pulling a bottle of lubricant out from what seemed like nowhere, pouring a generous measure into his hand, “Kiss him or something, how the hell should I know?”

Claire gasped. “You’re not going to put your…fingers in him, are you?” she asked stupidly. Of course he was. Nathan was going to think she was an idiot.

Nathan rolled his eyes. “What the fuck did you think I was going to do, Claire?”

Peter said, “Nate, you don’t have to be so rude. How should she know? She’s really just a kid.”

Nathan said condescendingly, “I suppose.”

Claire asserted, “I’m not a kid! I’m eighteen years old!”

She grabbed their bottle of liquor off the bedside table and took a long drink out of it. Overprotective bastards. She would show Nathan and Peter just how much of an adult she was.

“Why don’t you let me do it?” she said, trying to look innocent and sweet.

Nathan was sincerely shocked at her request. “What? Have you ever--ah--done it before?”

Claire blushed deeply. “No. I just wanted to try it, you know, since he likes it.”

“Is that okay with you, Pete?” Nathan asked, feeling slightly like she was intruding on his territory. That most sensitive part of his brother had never been touched by anyone but him.

Peter knew where Claire was going with this, and he was secretly amused. It was fun to see someone throw Nathan off completely. Peter said, resting his hands behind his head, catching his breath, “I don’t care, Nate. It’d definitely be different.”

Nathan said, “Different. Oh, Christ. Fine. Hold out your hand.”

Very possessive of his little brother, he inspected her fingernails, happy to see they were short and neat. He massaged her whole entire hand with his, fully coating every finger with the lubricant, over her palm, up to her wrist. “Start with one, and when he loosens up, you can add another one. Pay close attention to him, you don’t want to hurt him. I know he’d heal, but still.”

Claire started to shake, fully realizing what she’d signed up for, changing her mind abruptly. “I--I don’t think I can do this.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. You can, I promise. It’ll be really easy to know if it hurts. Trust me.” Nathan guided his daughter’s hand over Peter’s thigh, down until she reached her destination. She cried, “I can’t do it!”

Nathan sighed. *You’re not getting out of it that easily, little girl.* He would have to make her do it. “Come here, Claire.”

He kissed her, his tongue dominating her mouth, and while she was preoccupied, he directed two of her fingers into Peter. He figured since he’d been inside him before Claire had showed up, and her fingers were so slender, Peter could take it. Peter’s body tensed at first at the unfamiliar contact, but with a little more pressure, he accepted. Nathan wondered what Claire might do next. Would she freak out, or would she try to continue?

“Look, Claire. He’s okay. You’re in there.’

Claire realized what Nathan had done, and she almost pulled her hand back in shock. *Oh, God, what the hell am I doing?* she agonized again. She was then overtaken by the strangeness of the feel of Peter’s muscles around her fingers, and she wiggled them, trying to loosen him up a bit as Nathan had instructed, with little success. In fact, it was even more difficult to move now. Peter made an uncomfortable sound, and Claire thought, *This is insane!*

Claire knew she needed some assistance from Nathan in this crazy thing she was doing. She said, “He’s really--really tight. How do you ever fit in there?”

“He’s probably nervous, Claire. He’s not used to you. Sorry, honey.”

Claire withdrew her fingers, and felt like crying. Nathan gave her a towel to wipe her hands. Peter reached over and placed a hand on her thigh, and said, “Claire, it’s okay. Really.”

She wrapped her arms around Peter and moaned, “I’m so sorry, Peter. Was I hurting you?”

Peter pulled her close, and he whispered, “No, no, you weren’t. Nothing hurts me, Claire, thanks to you. The main thing is that you had the nerve enough to try it. Nathan can be a real prick sometimes, and you called him out on it. But he’s been doing it for years. Let him. He told you to keep my mouth shut, so go ahead.” He gave her his cute crooked smile.

Claire took Peter’s face in her hands and kissed him, then moved down his neck, his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his skin, a mixture of the soap he used and the slight salt of sweat, not unpleasant at all.

It was particularly quiet now, and she noticed Nathan was absent. She asked, “Where’d he go?”

Peter panted, “Don’t worry about him, he probably went to the bathroom. I’m worried about only you.” He kissed her below her ear, and whispered, his voice low and needful, “I want to learn all about you, Claire. I want to know your body like my brother knows mine.”

Claire stopped talking, stopped caring, deciding to let Nathan do what he wished.

Little did she know then that what Nathan was planning to do after he returned would be nothing Claire could have even prepared for.

Peter continued to kiss Claire all over her throat, her shoulder, down each breast, leaving trails of his saliva on her skin, his mouth finding each nipple, pulling the erect, pink flesh with his teeth. Claire’s body jerked and she moaned softly as his cock ground into her belly.

Peter looked up at her, his mouth full of her, his hazel eyes wide enough to bare open his soul to her. He arched his eyebrow playfully, and the damage was done.

Wrong as it was, that was the moment Claire fell in love with Peter Petrelli.

***