Title: Ice Cream
Rating: R
Spoilers: None
Pairings: Established Isaac/Claire
Characters: Isaac, Claire
Genre: Romance
Warnings: Mindless PWP, and although its not stated, it could be seen as Claire underaged, so there are some underaged themes percievable in it.
Summary: Hot days, park benches, and ice cream.





Disclaimer: I don't own any of Heroes, not even one tiny share.

AN: Boy this was hard to write, it just did not want to be done. Written for the mature_heroes ___In Public challenge!

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Ice Cream

She shivered slightly, as a cold hand ran along her back, leaving a sticky trail of drying icecream wherever its fingertips grazed. She shot him a wide-eyed look, and he smiled innocently, licking at the melting ice cream cone in his other hand. It wasn't new, him randomly copping a feel or such, but...

"You want to do this here?" She hissed, glaring at him after a jogger ran by the park bench they were sitting at. He smirked in reply, and took a chomp out of his cone, running his thumb along her elastic waistband. "You're insane, you know that?"

She didn't really expect an answer from him, which was good, because he didn't appear like he was going to give her one any time soon. He barey even acknowleged her, intent as he seemed on the dairy treat in front of him. Children frolicked and screamed in merriment in the playground a little ways from them, and somewhere behind them a soccer game was being played.

It was fortunate neither involved her.

She swallowed hard, hoping to rejuvinate the moisture that had abandoned her mouth, as his hand slid nonchalantly around her skin to rest on her belly. He nodded cordially to a passing couple, and she tried not to look too flustered.

She dearly wanted to say something to him, to tell him to wait until they'd at least gone back to the car--but she found herself quite suddenly unable to form any coherent convincing sentences--disapproving or otherwise.

This was probably due to the fact that his chilly, still sticky hand had moved quite a bit downward from where it had been when the couple had passed by. She was going to need a full body shower by the time she got home at this rate.

She squirmed anxiously, momentarily unsure whether she wanted to scramble away from him for decency's sake, or scoot closer and to hell with the whole social conventions thing. He answered that question for her not long after, with his slim, well trained fingers.

He glanced over at her in feigned curiosity at her sudden gasp, and hid a smirk in the remnants of his cone as she ground into his hand. It was really rather sad, she was sure, to be reacting quite so easily to him.

She was really, really sure it was, somewhere flitting through her conscious, but she just couldn't grab ahold of it through the...the...the...through him and the sticky-cold hand that wasn't quite so cold anymore and...

She buried her face in his shoulder so she didn't let the whole park they happened to be sitting in know exactly what was going on with the happy couple sitting innocently at a bench with ice cream. A hand gripped tightly onto his jeans, and she doubted anyone glancing over would have difficulty surmising the situation.

He just kept chewing on that waffle cone, moving long digits in time with the tongue darting forward to catch renegade drops of melted cream, expression as impassive as if he was not even aware she was sitting next to him, abandoning just about her last shred of dignity in favor of just a bit more...

She tasted praline icecream as he turned his head just enough to cover his mouth with hers, muffling her scream in a freezing cold, sticky-sweet kiss. Her breaths were short and shallow, and it felt like her skin was going to burn away as he stood up and brushed off his jeans.

"Wha.."

"One cone just never does it for me when it gets this hot." He said simply, before grinning and offered her his hand--the one that had been holding the ice cream. "Care for another?"

END

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AN: Ah, I know, not my best work, but eh...must re train myself for PWP.