Season 6, end of "Static"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Clark sat frozen for long moments, just looking into Chloe's eyes. He was afraid to move, afraid to do anything that might somehow mess things up between them. She'd agreed to stay, but she hadn't agreed to anything beyond that, and he didn't want to make any assumptions that might make things uncomfortable between them. Of course, earlier she'd kissed him, but maybe that had been an... aberration. Maybe she'd just felt sorry for him or something.
He remembered her hands sliding up under his t-shirt, caressing his back, and he thought that probably wasn't the way girls reacted to feeling sorry for a guy. Still, he couldn't quite bring himself to make any sort of move, for fear of looking stupid.
His fingers still rested on her cheek, and they tingled with the need to move, to touch her. At last he couldn't stop himself any more. He stroked his fingers over the satin skin of her cheek in a tentative, hesitant caress, and she closed her eyes and turned her head toward his hand.
Her lips brushed gently over his palm, and heat swelled inside him.
He'd never realized that having his palm kissed could feel so sexual. But the light caress of her lips there made his body stiffen and his heart pound, sending the blood rushing through his veins in a torrent. She continued kissing him there, very softly, and his fingers curled instinctively, cupping her cheek.
And then her tongue slipped out and began tracing the lines on his palm, and the heat inside him instantly burned more brightly, making his breathing go harsh and unsteady. He very badly wanted to kiss her, to run his hands all over her. But he didn't want her to stop what she was doing, either, because he was seriously enjoying it.
She didn't stop. Her tongue found the most sensitive places on his hand, stroking the delicate skin between his fingers, sliding over the pad of his thumb. He thought of her tongue running over other sensitive spots elsewhere on his body, and sweat broke out on his skin.
Her mouth slid down to the skin of his inner wrist, and her tongue flicked out. His skin was so sensitive there it almost tickled, and his hand curled into a fist. He turned his head so that his face was hidden against her hair, for fear that his expression might show a lot more than he wanted it to.
Her tongue traced the tendons in his wrist, and despite his efforts to suppress it, a low groan rose from his throat. He moved his head a little, brushing his lips over her ear, and she shuddered.
Since she seemed to like it, he let his tongue explore the delicate curves of her ear. He could hear her heart racing, and he lowered his head, brushing his lips over the rapid beat of her pulse in her throat. She moaned, so softly it was more a vibration than a sound, and he was seized by the sudden, compelling desire to make her moan more loudly.
Suddenly he was kissing her throat more aggressively, kissing every inch of exposed skin. Her head dropped back, encouraging him, asking wordlessly for more. His hands moved up under her jacket, stroking over the bare skin of her lower back, and she quivered. Her hands tugged at his t-shirt, pulling the hem up, and then she was touching him again, and the light glide of her palms over his skin felt so good he thought he must be the world's biggest idiot for not doing this earlier. Like five or six years earlier.
He lifted his head, and at the same moment she turned her face toward him. Whether it was by accident or design he wasn't sure, but their lips touched. At first it was just a light caress, but within seconds their mouths were open, their tongues tangling intimately.
They kissed for long moments, murmuring soft sounds of pleasure into each other's mouths. She felt good and tasted better, and he wanted to kiss her like this forever. But he had some other ideas, too.
They sank down onto the couch together, Chloe sprawled beneath him, his body pressing hers into the cushions. He settled between her thighs, moving against her in an urgent rhythm.
Her hands pulled off his shirt, and he tugged at her suit jacket. Seconds later he had her stripped down to a bra and panties.
Quick work for an amateur, he thought, not without satisfaction.
She brushed a light kiss over his cheek. "For someone who's hardly paid any attention to me for the past six years," she observed, "you're certainly in a big hurry."
He raised his head and looked down at her, puzzled. "I've paid attention to you. You're my best friend, Chlo."
"It's not quite the same kind of attention, though. Know what I mean?"
Yeah, he knew what she meant. In fact, he wasn't quite sure how he'd gone from talking to her to yanking her clothes off. All he knew was that he'd been miserable and scared and totally freaked out, but now that he'd spent some time talking to her about his experiences-- now that he'd let her in-- he was feeling a lot better.
Better in this case being defined as seriously horny.
He lowered his head and kissed her again. She didn't seem to mind. Her tongue caressed his, stroking and teasing, letting him in until the kiss was deeper and more intimate than anything he'd ever experienced, until his eyelashes fluttered shut and he was utterly lost in a sensual haze.
Her hands dug into his hair, trying to pull him still closer, but he didn't think that was possible. For them to get any closer, he'd have to be inside her.
Which actually wasn't a bad idea, come to think of it.
She tugged off his t-shirt, then her hands moved to his shoulders and pushed at him, very gently. She was incapable of shoving him anywhere he didn't want to be go, but right now he was willing to do just about anything she wanted to do. He rolled over on his back, pulling her over on top of him, and sighed with pleasure as her body settled onto his, pressing even more firmly against his erection.
She moved against him, slowly and deliberately, and heat sizzled through him. It occurred to him that he really needed to get his own jeans off. But he really didn't want to take his hands off the smooth curves of her ass.
An unpleasant vision flickered at the edges of his consciousness, the memory of death and blood. But this time it didn't make him lose his focus. If anything, it made his focus on her sharper than before. There was something big and bad running around that might be able to hurt Chloe. He was damned if he'd let her be hurt, the way those people had been hurt in Seattle.
Yes, he wanted to protect the world. He wanted to protect everyone.
But first and foremost, he wanted to protect Chloe.
He caught her face between his hands and kissed her, with even more intensity than before. The kiss got more and more ferocious, and he dug his hands into her hair fiercely.
She winced and pulled away just a bit. "Ow. Clark, take it easy."
"Sorry." He consciously relaxed his hands and looked up at her, abashed. "I was just thinking..."
"About the guy who can fly. I know. Try to forget about it for now, Clark. Worrying about it isn't going to help matters any."
"I just... what if he hurts you?"
"Me?" She blinked down at him, looking puzzled. "I thought he was in Seattle?"
"So is there any reason in the world to think he might come to Smallville?"
He looked away from her bright eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I guess not."
"I mean, come on, Clark, all roads do not lead to Smallville. It's a little spot on the map, nothing more. I know we've had a couple of Zoners show up here, but unless this guy somehow figured out who you are, and has a vendetta against the House of El..."
"He doesn't need to know who I am. He might just have followed me here."
"Anything's possible." She lowered her head and brushed a kiss over his cheek. "But you're not the easiest guy in the world to follow, and we haven't seen any signs that he's here. And what did I say about not borrowing trouble?"
"I worry about you, Chlo." Her eyebrows went up, and he felt a hot blush scald his cheeks. He added quickly, "And my mom. And everyone in Smallville."
"I know," she said softly, and he was pretty sure she understood exactly what he was telling her. "But try not to worry so much, okay?"
He looked at her, very seriously, then suddenly smiled. "Maybe you can help distract me."
"I'd be happy to try." She lowered her head, kissing his throat, and he dropped his head back and sighed.
Her hands reached down between them, unfastening his jeans, and seconds later there was nothing between them except his boxers and her panties. She rubbed against him again, and pleasure swelled in him, so damn intense he was afraid he was going to come, right now.
Well, at least he didn't have to worry about deflating. He was pretty sure that wasn't going to happen again.
Her body against his felt so good that his head arched back hard, and his hands, which had been holding her waist tightly, loosened. "Hey," she whispered. "Don't get so distracted that you drop me."
He opened his eyes and blinked at her, puzzled. "Huh?"
"Maybe you haven't noticed, but you rolled off the couch a while back. Only you missed the floor."
His head jerked around, and he realized he was floating about two and a half feet off the floor, Chloe on top of him. He looked back at her, his eyes wide, and she giggled.
"And you thought you couldn't fly."
"I can't. I mean..." He stammered, so stunned he couldn't get a sentence together. "Yeah, apparently I can sort of float. I mean, in a minor kind of way. But that's not exactly the same as... oh, God."
She laughed again, such an infectious laugh he could barely restrain his own smile. He'd always loved her laughter. She could get him out of mope mode faster than anyone else on the planet, and he knew it was her laughter that had that effect on him.
He looked up into her eyes. Beneath the laughter, he saw a glint he recognized, a glint of self-satisfaction.
"Hey," he said suspiciously. "You pushed me over on purpose. Didn't you?"
"I just wanted to see what might happen when you got distracted," she answered, shrugging.
"I..." He looked around again, realizing he was floating midway between the couch and the old steamer trunk he used as a coffee table, with Chloe on top of him. "Oh, God."
"Now I just need to get you distracted and trick you into stepping out of a window."
"No. Chloe. Don't joke about that, okay? Don't. I mean, really, I can't..."
"Yes, you can." She took his face between her hands and looked into his eyes, very seriously. "If you can float two feet above the ground, you can float thirty feet above the ground. Or a hundred feet. You could step right off the top of the Daily Planet building... and float."
"Stop fighting it, Clark. You're a talented guy. It's time to learn to use those talents for something other than making out."
He closed his eyes, remembering seeing the mysterious entity he'd seen in Seattle sail up into the sky and fly away, a streak of crimson against the night sky. That had looked seriously cool. But surely he himself couldn't ever learn to do that.
"Uh," he said at last. "I'll try. But you know, there's something to be said for making out, too."
"True enough." She lowered her head and kissed him again, a long, lingering kiss that made the blood pound in his ears.
"Mmmm," he said when she lifted her head. "I like making out with you, Chlo, but I'd rather do it on the couch. Only problem is, I'm not sure how to get back. Exactly how do I move when I'm floating, do you suppose?"
She grinned down at him. "You have much to learn, grasshopper."
"I suppose you have all the answers, O Wise One?"
Her grin grew wider. "Try pushing off something."
He recognized that was good advice, so he reached out with one hand and shoved off the steamer trunk. They floated back onto the couch, and he rolled on top of her, feeling the solidity of the cushions beneath them with some relief.
She kissed him again, and he promptly forgot all about floating. The kiss went on a long time, growing hotter and more intimate with every passing moment. He shoved at her panties, rather frantically, but couldn't quite figure out how to get them off her. He finally just grabbed them and ripped them off her, figuring that was the easiest method. She didn't seem to mind.
He caught her by the hips and moved against her, and she pushed down his boxers, wrapped her fingers around him, and guided him into her body.
Or tried to. She was really tight, and he couldn't get more than an inch inside her. He drew in a shaking breath, trying to control himself, and kissed her cheek softly.
"Hey," he said in a gentle voice. "Can you relax?"
"I can't... Clark, it just isn't working."
"It'll work," he assured her, although he had no real proof of that. But even though he was an alien, he was pretty sure he wasn't much bigger than any other guy. Which meant it really ought to work. "Just loosen up for me, okay?"
"I'm sorry." The laughter had faded from her voice, and she sounded as if she were close to tears. "I want you so much, Clark, but I just can't..."
"Shhh," he said softly, stroking her hair. "Relax, sweetheart. Let me in."
She froze in his arms, and he suddenly realized what he'd called her. Sweetheart. Something he'd never called her in all the years he'd known her. For that matter, something he'd never called any girl.
But she didn't seem to mind. She opened her eyes and stared at him, and in her eyes he saw everything she felt for him, warm affection and adoration and sheer hero worship. He had the uncomfortable feeling his eyes told her everything he felt, too, but he couldn't look away from her.
He kept running his hand through her hair, and gradually she relaxed against him. He moved his hips a little, and to his immense relief he slid into her a little further. It felt so good his eyelids drifted shut, and he had to grit his teeth to hold back a very undignified squeak.
She turned her head and moaned softly against his throat. "Clark..."
"More," he whispered hoarsely. "Give me more, Chlo."
He pushed, very gently, and sank still further into her. She was letting him in, slowly but surely, and it was simply incredible. This time he couldn't hold back a long groan of pleasure.
He'd never felt anything so intense in his life. It wasn't merely sex. The feel of their bodies moving together was so intimate, so impossibly sweet, that it made his throat hurt and his eyes sting. All the lonely fear he'd felt since he returned from Seattle was utterly gone, and all he could think of was Chloe.
He flexed his spine again, and this time he sank into her all the way, their bodies fusing as if they were one person. All his muscles went taut, and he had to focus on relaxing his fingers, for fear of really hurting her. He knew he could shatter her hipbones if he grew careless. The problem was, making love to her felt so good he could barely control himself, could barely think. All he could do was feel.
They moved together, slowly at first, but the tempo rapidly increased. He wanted it to last forever, but he just couldn't stop himself from moving harder, faster, until neither of them could bear the pleasure any longer. Her mouth pressed against his throat, and a soft sobbing sound emerged from her, and he felt her body contract around his in hard, rhythmic spasms.
He couldn't hold back. Somewhere in his body, something seemed to swell and explode, and he came hard, deep inside her, in a long, violent rush of heat.
And then he was collapsing on her, his considerable weight pressing her into the cushions. "Chloe," he mumbled in her ear. "God. I need to let you in more often."
"Of course you do." Her hand splayed out over his back, stroking him with absent affection, and he sighed softly, suddenly so tired he couldn't open his eyes. He was already half asleep, but he realized vaguely he couldn't go to sleep on top of Chloe-- she'd be stuck there for the rest of the night. So he shifted his position on the couch, being careful to stay on the cushions. Floating was something he just didn't want to cope with tonight.
She spoke softly in his ear. "If you're going to sleep, I can go."
"Don' go." His arm tightened around her waist. "Stay with me, Chlo."
"Okay," she said softly, just as she'd said earlier. "I'll stay."
She rested her head on his shoulder, and he fell asleep, Chloe in his arms. And somewhat to his surprise, he didn't dream of any of the horrors he'd seen in Seattle.
He dreamed of making love to Chloe, and he dreamed of floating.
And he dreamed of saving the world.