A Parody Of Love (Part 4/?)

[aunt_zelda]

Title: A Parody of Love (4/?)

Rating:

Pairings: Plaude, and Petrellicest without the blood-relation. Stop looking at me like that! Nathan forced his way in with his icy glare and politician friends!

Warnings: If you haven’t watched all of Season 1 of Heroes, you shouldn’t be here, you should be at nbc.com catching up!

Disclaimer: Uh … obviously I don’t own Heroes, because if I did, I’d have Plaude making out on screen instead of in slash fics or my twisted mind …

Recap If You’re Lazy And Won’t Follow My Lovely Links: Peter's a hooker. Claude's a customer. Love is all around you! Claude knows that Peter actually likes him, and Claude goes all sentimental around Peter. Oh yeah, and Claude has the power to go invisible … Peter has no superpowers.

Summary: Claude sings: it funny. (Oh dear, I'm being attacked by an invisible man wielding a quarterstaff ... *rummages around for katana*) Ok, ok, this is mostly about introducing evil Nathan, the antagonist!

My Thoughts: I was trying to figure out Peter's eye color, because I think they're really brown or hazel, but in c-quinn's stories they're green for artistic reasons, so I started writing about emeralds and this came out instead. I'm odd. Also, Nathan at last! (Isn’t he an evil git? Oh yes he is …)  

 

 

“Beautiful, beautiful brown eyes,” Claude sings to himself. “I'll never love blue eyes again ...”

He jolts up. Singin’ now, are ya?! his eyes widen in shock. Must be goin’ mad, mighta gotten food poisoning ...

But deep down, he knows it’s Peter.

I’m in love.

~*~

The song stays with him, however, no matter where he goes or what he does. Claude hums it as he stomps around NYC’s sketchier streets, taps the rhythm out on the wall of the subway cars he sneaks into, occasionally bursts out with the lyrics in crowded areas.

I’m in love.

~*~

“Wanna buy him for real and be done with it?” the manager asks, taking Claude’s cash. “I could arrange that, you know,” he adds with a leer.

Claude fixes him with an icy glare and stomps up the stairs: he’s in too good of a mood for trash like that anger him.

He enters without knocking: Peter said it just prolonged the time they weren’t together, and Claude had to agree.

Someone is already in the room.

The cold, cruel man eyes Claude dismissively. “This is what you wait for? You’re such an idiot, Pete,”

Claude wants to flinch. The way this man massacres Peter’s name: how can he be so careless with it? It should be a line of poetry, not an offhand title, mocking Peter's child-like qualities.

“I could give you so much more than this,” the cold man is saying. “Money, a house, an education, and instead you waste away here, selling yourself to men like him.”

Claude flares up, but he holds back. This man has power, otherwise he wouldn’t carry himself so, say such things. He holds back a snarl with great difficulty.

The cold man smirks: he knows his authority has been recognized. “You're smart, I’ll give you that,” he turns back to Peter, who is still sitting on the bed, staring at the floor. “Consider it, please,” he snaps, pushing past Claude and he stalking off.

Claude glares after him.

Peter sighs and stands up, putting on a mask of false cheer.

“Cut it out,” Claude snaps, shaking his head as he shuts the door. “Ya can’t fool me like ya can fool him. I know ya too well.”

Peter’s mask slides and he sinks onto the bed.

Claude sighs. “Don’t suppose there’s anythin’ I can do to help?”

Peter shakes his head.

Claude sighs again. “Didn’t think so,” he sinks down into a chair. “Smarmy git,” he mutters to himself.

“He’s a Congressman, with a wife,” Peter shifts uneasily, “and two kids. I research when a client’s as famous and rich as that …” he shudders. “He and I never really connect; it’s not like you and me.”

Claude knows that Peter would never talk to another customer like this. The magnitude of the cold, cruel man hits him.

“Does he hurt ya?” Claude asks quietly.

Slowly, Peter nods.

Claude feels like snapping the arm off the chair. Or kicking the floor in. Or, better yet, ripping the Congressman apart.

“I mean, you get used to all sorts of stuff in this line of work, but with him …” he shifts uneasily again. “He’s the worst, of everyone.”

Claude gets up, crosses the floor, and takes Peter’s hands in his. “Want ta forget about him for a while?”

Peter nods and smiles that special smile. “Yeah,” he relaxes and eases into a kiss with Claude. “Yeah.”

Comments

[aunt-zelda.livejournal.com]

This is so sweet. In a twisted, bitter kind of a way ;)
Yes! THAT'S what I was going for!

Claude has to figure out a way to get Peter away from him!
Oh, he will ... *evil grin*