Season 6, ending to "Fallout"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Chloe's lips felt like a summer breeze against his, warm and soft and tender. Clark tightened his arms around her, needing the pressure of her body against his. Their lips brushed together, over and over again, in light, gentle caresses. Despite the almost platonic nature of their kisses, his body responded, growing even harder, and he pulled her against his erection, then groaned out loud at the pleasure of it.
Her tongue slipped out, stroking over the contours of his lips, and he opened his mouth and met her tongue with his. The kiss grew hotter and more passionate, but no less tender. He could feel her affection in every brush of her tongue, every touch of her hands in his hair, and it helped anchor him, reminding him that he belonged here on Earth.
He couldn't stop himself from kissing her more deeply, pulling her against him so hard that her feet left the floor. She wrapped a leg around his thighs, bringing them into more intimate contact, and he sucked in a deep breath, cupped her ass in his hands, and rocked against her. Ecstasy sliced through him like a knife, so sharp-edged that he could barely stand it.
His need was so intense that he wanted to yank up her skirt, unzip his jeans, and fuck her, right now, without any concern for the fact that his mother might walk in on them. But a dim, dusty barn, filled with the reek of horses and manure, didn't strike him as the right place to make love to Chloe for the first time. It was somehow lacking in romance.
Not that he typically thought of Chloe and romance together. She'd always been his friend, not his lover. But if that was going to change, if he was going to make love to her, this didn't seem like the place to do it.
Ignoring the fire in his veins that demanded, Right here. Right now, he swept her up in his arms and headed through the barn door at superspeed, out into the brilliant fall sunshine.
He came to a halt in a grassy meadow and stood still long enough for her to get her bearings, then put her feet down on the grass, his arms still around her waist.
She looked around, blinking. "Where are we?"
"The back forty," he answered. "No one ever comes back here."
She frowned dubiously. "The grass is kind of high. I bet there are snakes and mice and things."
He couldn't help the smile that tilted his mouth. No matter how much she smelled like the earth, like sunshine and flowers and green shoots in the spring, Chloe was no earth goddess. At heart she was a city girl, and things that slithered and crawled were not her cup of tea.
"I'll make sure there aren't any snakes around," he promised.
She tilted her head and looked at him curiously. "Can you really hear a snake slithering through the grass?"
He grinned and responded with something she'd said to him just the day before. "Have you met me?"
"Okay," she said, rolling her eyes. "Stupid question."
"Definitely." He looked down at her, inhaling a long breath of fall air scented with flowers and dying leaves and the subtle hint of future rain. The light breeze carried her fragrance to him, the clean, sweet smell of summer. He recognized the scent of her arousal, realized she was as turned on as he was, and that made him ache for her. He wanted to be inside her.
But first, he wanted to taste her.
He pushed up her skirt-- thank God she was wearing a skirt, having come from the office-- and reached up to the graceful curve of her hips, gently tugging down her underwear. She was wearing stockings, but they only rose to the middle of her thighs, so they weren't in his way. He pulled her lacy panties down, then dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands gripping her thighs.
Her hands dropped to his. "Clark," she said, sounding distinctly nervous.
"Relax," he whispered. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh.
She smelled like pure sex, like desire and heat and steamy summer nights, and the fire in his blood rose still higher, threatening to burn him alive. He rained kisses over her thighs, his tongue slipping out to taste the moisture of her arousal, her musky, sweet flavor exploding in his mouth like rich wine.
"Clark," she whispered again, her voice hesitant, almost timid, as if she were afraid to walk into this unknown territory with him.
Chloe was absolutely fearless about most things, but she tended to be cautious about relationships in general. And in this particular situation, he could easily understand her hesitation. In fact, he shared it. They'd been friends forever, and the moment he did this, the moment he touched her so intimately, they were no longer merely friends. They were lovers. It was a whole new dynamic in their relationship, and it was scary.
But he couldn't not do this, not when her scent was so totally sexual and her heartbeat pounded like a drum in his ears and her skin scorched the palms of his hands.
He moved his hands up just a bit, parted her wet, sensitive flesh with his fingers, and leaned forward. He slipped his tongue over her in an intimate caress, and she jerked and whimpered. He looked up, seeing her eyes clenched shut, her lips pressed tightly together, like she was trying to restrain her responses.
"Chlo," he said softly, "we're alone out here. No one can hear you but me. Don't hold back."
He leaned into her again, tasting her, stroking her, and she dropped back her head and gave a long, sobbing cry of pleasure, tilting her hips forward to allow him better access. He lifted a hand and slid one finger, then two, into her tight, wet body, thrusting gently while he caressed her with his tongue. He made love to her that way her very slowly, letting her need build, teasing her until her hands gripped his hair tightly and her spine arched and she cried out to the blue vault of sky overhead.
"Please," she whispered at last, gasping for breath. "Please, Clark, please."
He understood the desperation in her voice, because his body was taut with need, his cock throbbing urgently against the confinement of his jeans. He wasn't at all sure he could hold himself back. He took a deep breath, trying to get himself under control, then thrust his fingers into her hard.
He could feel her moisture all over his hand, could taste her arousal on his tongue, could hear her voice lift. Her body gripped his fingers in hard, long spasms as she climaxed, sobbing and shaking and crying out his name.
In his wildest fantasies, he'd never imagined anything as sexy as making her come in the middle of a meadow, while the grass rippled in the warm breeze and the sun shone down on them. He could barely restrain his own orgasm. He sucked in a deep breath and gritted his teeth and somehow managed to contain himself.
At last her cries subsided to soft gasps, and he pulled back from her and stood up. He briefly went into superspeed and flattened a patch of grass under his workboots, then shrugged off his jacket and threw it on the flattened grass. He dropped back into normal time and put his arms around her.
And then they were falling together, tumbling to the ground, their bodies wrapped around each other. She sprawled on top of him, and his mouth sought hers hungrily, his tongue mating with hers.
His tongue was deep inside her mouth the way he wanted to be inside her body, in a kiss so intimate it made tears sting his eyes. Earlier he'd felt alone, but he didn't feel so alone any more. Because he had Chloe.
They tore eagerly at each other's clothes. She yanked his t-shirt off so quickly he would have sworn she'd used superspeed, then shoved at his jeans, and he helped her get them off, kicking off his shoes and socks in the process. He stripped off her work clothes and threw them aside, with a complete disregard for the fact that they were probably dry clean only. He just didn't care all that much about grass stains right now, and she didn't seem to care, either.
Seconds later they were naked. The day was comfortably warm, and the tall grass around them rippled in the breeze. The wind blew over his skin and the sun's rays warmed his body in a sensual caress, but none of it felt as good as Chloe's body, hot and sweaty and desperate against his.
He opened his eyes, his hands cupping her face, holding her tenderly. She looked more beautiful than ever, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire, her hair rumpled and windblown, her cheeks flushed. The grass rose high all around them, concealing them from the world, and he couldn't see anything except her smiling face, and behind her the wide sapphire sky.
Part of him wanted to stare at her all day, but his body had other ideas. He rolled on top of her and moved against her, driven by instinct, driven by impulses he had no control over, and suddenly he was sliding into her warm, slick heat. They fit together like they'd been made for one another, and he plunged deeply inside her, primal noises of pleasure and need falling from his lips.
Their bodies strained together as they moaned into each other's mouths. Sweat trickled down his forehead and his back, and he could feel that her skin was slick with perspiration, too. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his ribcage, her legs around his waist, and he wanted to wrap his arms around her, too, but he was too afraid of hurting her, so he reached out and grasped fistfuls of grass, his body still driving relentlessly into hers.
And then she clutched at his back and stiffened. The violent spasms of her body rippling around his cock drove him over the edge. Ecstasy gusted through him, building rapidly to hurricane force, so intense he froze deep inside her, unable to do anything but let the winds flow through him.
At last he fell against her with a gasp, sucking in oxygen. The scent of crushed grass and earth and sex hung heavily in the air. She turned her head, brushing kisses over his cheek and ear, and her hand moved lazily in his hair. He rolled off her a bit, aware that he was heavy, and pulled her against his chest.
She pressed her face against him and spoke, her voice muffled.
"I think we scared all the snakes away."
He blinked down at her. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how incredible making love to her had been, how grateful he was that he had her in his life... and she was talking about snakes. It was typical of Chloe to try to keep things light between them, and he chuckled despite himself.
"There aren't any snakes around, Chlo. Don't worry. I'm looking out for you."
"You always do." She looked up at him, and her hand reached up, tracing the contours of his face. He turned his head slightly, kissing her palm, then looked back at her. Her hazel eyes gleamed gold in the sunlight, but they looked very serious.
"Are you sure you weren't falling for her?" she said softly.
He frowned, perplexed by the abrupt shift in subject. "Who, Raya?"
"I told you, Chlo. She was my father's assistant. It was like she was middle-aged or something."
"She didn't look middle-aged."
He rolled his eyes. "Chlo. I didn't have a thing for her." He hadn't even known Raya well enough to truly miss her. He understood that what he really missed was what she represented-- a connection to his people. To his past. "But when she died, I felt really... alone."
"Don't feel that way," she said, her voice very soft but very earnest. "You're not alone."
Bowing his head, he pressed his face into her hair, inhaling her scent. He and Chloe had been friends since middle school, but he'd been falling in and out of love with her for years. He'd fallen for her in their freshman year, when they'd gone to a dance together, and he'd fallen for her again when she'd kissed him at the Daily Planet, just before he'd gone off to try to save the world.
Both times he'd done his best to convince himself that he really wasn't in love with her, that he didn't feel anything for her beyond friendship. But he was beginning to see that maybe he'd really been in love with her all along, but just too afraid to admit it to himself.
Or maybe he hadn't been. He honestly wasn't sure how he'd felt. He knew he'd loved her for years as a friend, but he wasn't sure if he'd ever truly been in love with her. But either way, he was definitely falling for her now. He could feel himself tumbling in freefall again, but this time it was in a good way. A very good way.
His grief and alienation were gone, replaced with a sense of belonging and peace he'd never before experienced. He closed his eyes and held her, feeling the Earth beneath him and Chloe on top of him, reveling in his connection to this planet and its people.
This was his home. Not a long-ago destroyed ice planet, but this world. There would always be a place deep inside him that knew he was different, alien, inhuman. He would always be the last son of Krypton.
But that didn't mean he couldn't be happy here on Earth.