Seeing Red, Chapter 4

Kal/Chloe
Season 6, based on spoilers for "Crimson"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.

"What the fuck?"

Clark gave a startled yelp as the mop handle shattered over his head. He couldn't be hurt by anything as flimsy as a stick of wood, but he was a little... shocked. Chloe had never hit him before. Never.

"Son of a bitch," she snarled. "Get out."

Apparently he'd made her really mad with that last remark. But it wasn't his fault, damn it. She'd made him mad by patting him condescendingly on the arm and telling him sex with him was "nice." Nice was a word for guys like Jimmy, not him. He'd thought sex with her was impossibly hot. It had sure been a whole hell of a lot better than nice. The lukewarm word had pissed him off.

Although if he was going to be honest about it, maybe it was the way she'd turned the tables on him, practically made him beg, that had pissed him off so badly. He'd thought he was in control of the situation, and all of a sudden he hadn't been in control any more, and that had really freaked him out. Or maybe he'd gotten mad because she still belonged to Jimmy, not him, and deep down he knew it.

He wasn't quite sure why he'd been so angry, really. All he knew was that he was pissed and he didn't want to talk to her any more.

He wanted to screw her again.

Not in a million years, he thought grimly. She'd clobbered him over the head with a mop handle, after all, which was probably a hint she'd lost interest. And he didn't want a mouthy, bitchy girl like Chloe, anyway. He wanted to find a sweet, compliant girl who'd do whatever he told her to do, and fuck any way he wanted her to fuck.

"Fine," he said tersely, and threw the closet door open. Light from the hallway flooded over Chloe, her blonde hair tangled and rumpled, a tattered piece of fabric on the floor that had once been her underwear. She made a startled noise of shock and distress and shoved her skirt down, trying to get her clothes back into some semblance of order before someone saw her.

Clark turned his back on her and stalked out into the hallway... and saw Lois.

Crap. He'd been trying to avoid her. Earlier she'd somehow developed this crazy idea that they were meant to be together. She'd planted a big kiss on him, and he hadn't fought it. She wasn't a fabulous kisser-- too wet and sloppy-- but her lipstick tasted good. Then she'd kissed his throat and tried to yank his shirt off, and he'd backed away. He wasn't all that interested in Lois, and she irritated the hell out of him, even when she was kissing him.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," she said throatily.

Who the hell cares? he almost retorted, but caught himself as he got a good look at what she was wearing. He lifted an eyebrow, intrigued, because she'd apparently gone out and gotten a makeover. She was wearing a seriously short leather skirt, leather boots that rose to her knees, and a lowcut top that exposed a hell of a lot of her breasts, along with a tattoo he hadn't realized she had. Maybe it was new. She'd reapplied the crimson lipstick she'd been wearing earlier, and all of a sudden he remembered the way it tasted. The girl might not be much of a kisser, but her lipstick tasted awfully good. He wouldn't mind tasting it again.

"You found me," he said, grinning at her.

*****

"Lois?"

Chloe stuck her head out of the closet and regarded her cousin with bewilderment. Lois sometimes wore sexy outfits, but this was ridiculous. It was the kind of getup a biker chick might wear after one too many shots of tequila. Lois looked like a prostitute, and not a high-class one, either.

The way she was eying Clark was downright predatory. And he was looking at her exactly the same way.

No, Chloe thought, a kind of numb horror seeping through her veins, turning her cold all over. This is not happening. Clark and Lois are not falling for each other.

But Clark stepped forward, bent his head, and planted a long, deep kiss, right on Lois' mouth.

Chloe stood there staring, feeling tears sting her eyes. Clark had just made love to her, and now he was kissing another woman right in front of her, like he was ready to take Lois right into the broom closet and screw her. What the hell was going on? This just wasn't like Clark. At all.

Clark lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder, grinning at her shocked expression in a really unpleasant way. She saw Lois' red lipstick smeared on his mouth. Her self-defense mechanisms came to her rescue, and a snarky remark rose to her lips, the comment that lipstick looked good on him, and maybe he should try Lois' heels and fishnets...

But the smartass words died unspoken as she noticed he had a few faint red marks on his neck, too. Lois had obviously kissed him there earlier, and left some lipstick behind.

Red lipstick.

All of a sudden she realized what was going on. She'd been with Lois yesterday when Lois had bought the lipstick, called Crimson, at a store in downtown Smallville. It was a new product, and was made at a local plant.

There's red kryptonite in the lipstick, she realized.

Kryptonite was what Clark had dubbed the meteor rocks, originally from his home planet of Krypton, which had exploded. Green K made Clark ill, but red K made him act in unpredictable, uncharacteristic ways. She'd seen him on it in high school, when he'd inadvertently put on a class ring with a red K stone in it, and he'd instantly gone mouthy and rude and violent, totally unlike his normal mild-mannered self. And, she remembered, he'd acted like a real horndog. Red K made him chase pretty much anything in a skirt.

Which meant that he hadn't had sex with her because he wanted her, but because he'd been revved up on red K.

A sick feeling of humiliation roiled in her stomach, and she had to swallow hard to keep the coffee she'd drunk earlier down. She didn't have time to indulge in self-pity right now. She needed to stop Lois from making the same stupid mistake she'd made.

"Lois," she said, stepping forward and holding her hand out to her cousin. "He's on a kind of drug. He can't help acting this way. He's all messed up right now."

Lois looked up at Clark with soft, adoring eyes. "No, he's not," she said softly. "He's perfect."

Oh, no. The red K had somehow affected Lois, too. Chloe suddenly recalled the time she'd fallen for Clark due to a love potion she'd inadvertently drunk, and the flash of memory made her cringe in remembered humiliation. She didn't want Lois to have to go through that too.

"Lois." She caught Lois' arm and tried to tug her away from Clark, with no success. "There's something wrong with you, too. I think it's the lipstick."

"The lipstick makes me feel sexy."

Obviously, Chloe almost retorted, but didn't. She looked at Lois' outfit, the tight leather microskirt, the dangerously low cut blouse, and the knee-high boots. There was a new tattoo on Lois' left breast, over her heart. She couldn't see all of it, but she could see enough to make out the words Clark Kent.

Oh God, poor Lois. Ordinarily Lois could barely tolerate Clark, and she certainly wasn't going to like having his name tattooed onto her boob. She was going to have a heart attack when she came out of this state.

"Come on," Clark said to Lois. "Let's find someplace a little more..." He narrowed his eyes at Chloe over his broad shoulder. "Private."

"And less noisy," Lois added with a giggle.

"No." Chloe went after them as they started down the hall. They were both long-legged, both much taller than she was, and she practically had to jog to keep up with them. "You guys can't do this!"

Lois turned around and glared at her. "You're pathetic, cuz. You've always wanted Clark, but you never had the nerve to go for him. But that doesn't mean he's yours. He belongs to me now. Hands off."

Chloe stopped, frozen, Lois' words echoing in her brain.

You're pathetic.

And oh God, she was. She definitely was. Or she wouldn't have let Clark seduce her into having sex in a broom closet.

And now, under the influence of red K, Clark was moving on to the next girl, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do to stop him and Lois from making an awful, horrible mistake. Neither of them would listen to her.

She realized they were walking away from her, and she tried again, so desperate to stop them from screwing up their lives that she was willing to admit her own mistake out loud. "Lois, listen to me. You have to listen to me. Clark's all mixed up. He just had sex with me."

Lois just shrugged, unconcerned. "He'll like it with me a lot better."

"Damn straight," Clark said with a cold laugh, and pulled Lois against him harder, his arm wrapped around her possessively. "Come on, Lois. Let's get out of here. Let's go have some fun."

Chloe watched them disappear up the stairs, knowing that when they returned to normal, they were seriously going to regret this. But not nearly as much as she would.

Standing alone in the hall, she closed the door of the broom closet. She could feel Clark's moisture dripping down her inner thighs, could feel the places his hands had gripped her a little too tightly, could still feel the spots on her throat where his rough jawline had abraded her skin. For just a moment, alone with him in the darkness, she'd thought Clark was finally hers. But she'd been wrong.

She remembered his harsh, distant voice saying, I can find pussy anywhere, and tears scorched her eyelids.

This time she let them fall.

Read Chapter 5 here.