Clark/Chloe
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Season 5, following my story "Saving Me," which followed "Void."
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the WB and DC Comics, not to me.
Chloe awakened to the sound of Clark’s voice in her ear.
His voice was low, more of a rumble than anything else, and so damn sexy it sent shivers down her spine. It took her a couple of moments to realize he wasn’t saying anything comprehensible.
He was murmuring something guttural, sounding like he was trying to speak German while gargling. Kryptonian, she presumed, because she’d heard him speak it once before, and that was exactly what it sounded like.
But the last time he’d spoken Kryptonian, he’d been deeply under the influence of red K.
She rolled toward him, or tried to. Unfortunately, she discovered she was pinned underneath his very large form. He’d put his arm over her before they’d fallen asleep, but now his leg was drawn up and rested on top of her legs, too. He felt like he was made entirely of muscle and bone, or maybe steel and iron, and she realized she wasn't going anywhere.
Opening her eyes, she saw rays of sunshine sifting in through the window. Thank God he’d slept through the night, because he’d looked so exhausted and miserable she was afraid he might have had some sort of breakdown if he hadn’t gotten some sleep.
She craned her head back a bit, seeing that his eyes were still closed. He was apparently talking in his sleep.
“Clark,” she whispered, wiggling against him in another effort to squirm free. A totally futile effort, as it happened, because he outweighed her by almost a hundred pounds. He didn’t stir, but his lips continued to move as he spoke.
“Clark!”
The guttural words abruptly cut off, and his long, dark eyelashes fluttered, then his eyes opened. He stared at her wide-eyed for a moment, looking puzzled. And then his eyes narrowed with sudden male interest, and his arm tightened around her.
All of a sudden Chloe remembered she wasn’t wearing anything but a lacy nightgown, and she was curled right up next to him, her butt pressed right up against…
Well, a part of him that definitely seemed to have noticed her proximity, judging from the reaction she could feel right through his jeans.
Clark didn’t move, just stared at her with intense green eyes, and Chloe felt heat gather in her body in response to his gaze. She became aware of an ache between her thighs, felt her heart hammering in her chest.
“Are you feeling better?” she asked, trying to get things back on a more normal footing. Or as normal as she could hope for, considering she had two hundred plus pounds of aroused Kryptonian on top of her.
This was not exactly a normal start to her day.
Although she was pretty sure she could get used to it. Right now, though, she wasn't totally comfortable. She rolled toward him in order to stop craning her neck, and his hand slid down to the small of her back, urging her closer. His leg was still resting on top of hers, but now they were so close together their noses were almost touching.
He stared at her a moment longer, unblinking, then he suddenly grinned one of his brilliant, happy grins. It was such a change from his defeated look of exhaustion last night that it was startling.
“I’m feeling fine,” he said cheerfully.
Looking straight into that radiant smile was a lot like looking straight into the sun. "Ow. Don’t smile like that so early in the morning, okay? I need my sunglasses when you grin like that.”
“Sorry,” he said, not looking in the least sorry. In fact he looked pretty damn happy. Which was perhaps a normal male reaction to finding himself in bed with a scantily clad blonde. But it wasn’t a normal Clark reaction. She had really expected Clark to turn red, stammer an apology, and superspeed his way out of bed, out of the room, and possibly right out of Metropolis.
He didn’t seem inclined to superspeed anywhere. His arm tightened around her, pulling her even closer.“You smell good,” he said thickly, pressing his nose into her hair.
Chloe blinked. Clark Kent was cuddling with her. Evidently she’d died sometime during the night, because she was obviously in heaven. Clark had probably squished her to death while they slept, the big dumb doofus.
But when she considered it, she was pretty sure she wasn’t really dead, because this all felt very real, and very earthly. His jean-clad thigh slid over her leg, and she could feel the slight raspiness of the denim against her bare skin. She could feel the solid warmth of his arm around her waist, and the feel of his hand as it splayed out over the small of her back, just above the curve of her ass.
“Uh…” she said.
“I think that’s my line.”
She couldn’t help but giggle. “Usually it is. I was just wondering if you, uh, were maybe still asleep.”
“No. Trust me. I’m extremely awake.”
“And feeling better, apparently.” The bulge nestled against her thigh was proof of that, she thought wryly.
“Yeah,” he said, then his arm squeezed her gently, and he spoke more seriously. “You really saved my life last night, Chlo. Thanks.”
She slid her arm around his waist. “I’m glad you got some sleep. But I think we need to figure out what’s really bothering you, Clark. Because you’ve got to sleep on a regular basis. You have a lot of talents, but superwakefulness is not one of your abilities.”
“I’m fine,” he repeated, sounding so disgustingly cheerful that she almost believed him. She made it a practice never to sound cheerful before her second cup of coffee.
“You’re fine now. But what about tonight?”
He shrugged a big shoulder. “Don't borrow trouble, Chlo.”
“You looked terrible last night,” she said sharply. “I was really worried I was going to have to check you into Belle Reve. And then... and then when I woke up this morning, you were speaking Kryptonian in my ear.”
He froze suddenly, and the teasing sexiness suddenly vanished from his features. Suddenly his face looked as still and hard as if it were carved from granite. “Kryptonian?” he echoed.
“Yeah. At least, I guess that’s what it is. Lovely language, by the way. Sounds like you’re being strangled while you recite sonnets. You spoke it while you were on red K, too.”
“I remember,” he said, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown.
“Coupled with the fact that you can’t sleep, that makes me wonder if you’re as over the red K as you think you are.”
“I’m fine,” he said impatiently.
“Look, Clark,” she said, “I can’t help worrying. You looked so awful when you showed up last night.” At the memory of how distressed he'd been, she put a protective hand on his bicep, just below the sleeve of his t-shirt.
Clark suddenly jerked his head back and groaned, a long, low sound of pleasure that made goosebumps erupt on her skin.
Chloe blinked. The sound was totally out of proportion for such a light, casual touch. She'd only touched his bicep, after all, not run her fingers across his inseam or anything along those lines. She might not be an expert on seducing men, but she was pretty sure that a light touch on a man's bicep didn't ordinarily make him groan like that.
She remembered hearing him make similar noises when he was on red K, when every little brush of her fingers seemed to turn him on to an extreme degree. When he'd wanted her to touch him so desperately he'd practically begged for it. But that reaction had been entirely due to the red K.
And that thought made her more worried than ever. His eyes didn't glow weirdly like they had when he was on the red stuff, but even so, something was definitely a little strange about the way he'd responded to her touch. She wasn't sure if it was red K or something else, but his reaction was decidedly not normal.
"Clark," she said softly. "What's going on?"
Read Chapter 4 here.
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