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.
God, he was bored.
Clark leaned against a brick wall in the alley behind the Daily Planet, where he'd parked his dad's old Harley, and tried to work up some enthusiasm for the abundant display of female flesh that pressed up against him. But somehow he just couldn't get interested. His brain kept drifting back to the way Chloe had clutched his shirt, bitten his shirt, and then made love to him till he'd lost his mind.
And then he remembered the way she'd clobbered him over the head, and he growled under his breath. Bitch.
But annoyed though he was, he couldn't seem to get his mind off Chloe, even though Lois had apparently embraced her inner slut. She'd yanked off his flannel shirt and tossed it aside, and now her hands were all over him, sliding up under his t-shirt, and she was rubbing up against him like a bitch in heat. He ought to be seriously turned on by her aggressive sexiness.
But his mind was still back in that broom closet.
At last Lois jerked her head back and looked at him. "What's wrong, sweetie?"
There was definitely something weird about the way Lois was acting, he thought. Ordinarily she'd no more kiss him than she'd kiss a pig, and she'd certainly never called him sweetie before. If she thought something was bothering him, she was much more likely to drawl, What the hell's eating you, Smallville?
"Nothing," he said, absently running his hand up under her shirt and squeezing. Even that didn't really do much to impress him. Yeah, she had big boobs, but he'd recently discovered he liked smaller ones. Chloe's were just about the perfect size.
Chloe again. He sighed.
"You're thinking about her, aren't you?"
Lois didn't have to tell him who she was. They both knew who he was thinking about. He lifted an eyebrow, unconcerned by the hurt in her voice. "What if I am?"
"She's with Jimmy," Lois said, her eyes glittering with annoyance. "She was headed for Lana and Lex's engagement party. That's tonight, you know."
She's with Jimmy. The words rolled around his brain, setting off a chain reaction of fury and hurt and pain. She couldn't be with Jimmy, not after they'd made love-- no, screwed. But there was no way she'd go out on a date with Jimmy. She was his now, damn it.
Except maybe she wasn't, because he'd walked away from her.
"Your mom's going too," Lois added, rubbing against him. "With Lionel."
The idea of his mom all dolled up and on Lionel Luthor's arm, again, made the fury in his brain glow hotter. How could his mother date Lionel when his dad hadn't even been dead a year? And why on earth was she going to Lana's engagement party, anyway? She knew he'd once been madly in love with Lana. Yeah, so he wasn't all that crazy about Lana any more, but still, it was the principle of the thing. How could she celebrate Lana's engagement to another guy? It felt like a betrayal to him.
All of a sudden the desire to tell his mom how he felt about Lionel, and Lana how he felt about her pregnancy, and her engagement to Lex, rose up and obliterated the vague sexual arousal he'd been feeling.
Forget about Lois. He had more important things to do. He had people to tell off.
And if he happened to run into Chloe while he was there, he might have a thing or two to say to her, too.
He let go of Lois, grabbed his leather jacket off his bike, and spun around.
"Where are you going?" She grabbed at him, sounding so pathetic he ordinarily might have felt guilty for his behavior. But tonight, he didn't feel much of anything, at least as far as she was concerned. "We're just getting started."
"No," he said, striding away from her. "We're done."
Clark was making a total ass of himself.
Chloe stared down at her gold-rimmed plate, laden with caviar and scallops and other delicacies that probably cost a hundred dollars an ounce. It might as well have been laden with sawdust, as far as she was concerned. She'd already been upset when she'd sat down at the long table in the Luthor mansion, along with twenty or some prominent members of Smallville's upper crust, and Clark's angry outburst was only making it worse.
Jimmy sat next to her, looking as uncomfortable as she did. Guilt all but choked her every time she glanced at him. Earlier this evening she'd had sex with another man, and an hour later Jimmy had met her at the Planet to escort her to Lex and Lana's engagement dinner... and she'd smiled and kissed him hello as if nothing whatsoever had happened between her and Clark.
She had to tell him what she'd done. She knew that. But Lana was expecting them, was counting on them, and she didn't want to start a big fight right before Lana's engagement dinner.
She rolled her eyes at herself. She was making excuses, and she knew it. She should have told Jimmy right up front, the minute he walked up to her desk. To put it off was cowardly. But she'd gone through enough upheaval today, and she simply hadn't wanted to face another big emotional confrontation tonight.
But she was getting one anyone. They all were. Soon after the dinner was served, Clark had come storming in-- mercifully without Lois. The soft, genteel buzz of civilized conversation had faded as he stalked around the table and started verbally attacking his friends and family.
She noticed he'd lost the flannel shirt at some point. Maybe Lois had taken it off him, she thought, and hated herself for the jealousy that stabbed into her heart. He was dressed in a leather jacket, faded jeans, and a white t-shirt, and he looked like an advertisement for sex, so impossibly gorgeous that all her hormones jumped to attention. She ignored them. Her hormones had already gotten her in quite enough trouble tonight.
Clark had started yelling at Lana, calling her a tramp and a disloyal bitch and a number of other names that cut all the more deeply because there was an element of truth to them. Lana's large, beautiful eyes filled with tears, and Chloe wondered why on earth Lex didn't have his security team intervene and try to drag Clark out. Of course, they couldn't drag Clark out, but Lex didn't know that.
She glanced at Lex, and saw the explanation written clearly on his face. She could see his thoughts as well as if they were floating in a little bubble over his head.
The kid's drunk. Let him go ahead and make a fool of himself in front of Lana. She'll never want him again.
From Lana, Clark had moved on to his mother, bitching her out for taking up with a guy like Lionel Luthor so soon after his father had died. The word "tramp" came up again, along with some other unpleasant terms Clark would ordinarily never use. Chloe cringed in sympathy as Mrs. Kent stared up at her son, looking shocked, and terribly hurt.
Chloe didn't want to do anything to draw Clark's attention to her, but she couldn't sit here and watch as Clark slashed his mother to ribbons, verbally speaking. She was the only person in this room who knew what Clark's problem was-- although Mrs. Kent would probably be able to figure it out, once she calmed down and was able to think rationally-- and it was up to her to put a stop to this before Clark ruined every relationship he had with every person he cared about.
She stood up, her linen napkin in her hand, and took a step toward him with the vague notion of rubbing the lipstick off him. Jimmy put a restraining hand on her arm, but she shook him off and walked toward Clark. More than ever, she was aware of how big and powerful he was. But she wasn't afraid he'd hurt her in any physical way. Even on red K, she was certain Clark would never hurt her physically.
Emotionally, though... that was an entirely different story.
"Clark," she said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder to distract him from Martha, who looked like she was about to cry. "You've said enough. More than enough."
"And you." He whipped around and glared down at her. "You made love to me earlier tonight, and now you're here with Jimmy. How slutty is that?"
A horrible silence fell over the room. Chloe didn't bother to look toward Jimmy. She could imagine the shocked look on his face without glancing in his direction.
"You don't love him at all," Clark said, his beautiful features set and hard. "You don't even like him that much, or you wouldn't have screwed me in a broom closet."
Her hand tightened on the napkin, clutching it. She wanted very much to whack him over the head with another mop. Only this time she'd use one with a kryptonite handle. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.
"You love me." He lowered his head, caught her by the arms, and glared into her eyes. "You love me, Chlo. You know you do."
She stared up at him a long moment, hearing the awful silence as everyone stared at them. She'd never been so starkly embarrassed in her life. She'd imagined Clark was making love to her because he'd wanted to, but instead he'd had sex with her because he'd been high on red K. She'd made a stupid, stupid mistake, and to have it aired in public this way, in front of half of Smallville, was more than she could take.
She remembered the way he'd casually turned his back on her and planted a long, deep, passionate kiss on Lois, the way he'd announced his intention to have sex with Lois too, and fury and humiliation rose up in her chest. How dare he call her a slut?
She knew her anger was irrational. She knew Clark was under the influence of a drug he'd accidentally come in contact with, and she knew his behavior wasn't truly his fault. And yet, at this moment, she didn't care. She was well and truly pissed.
"No, I don't love you," she said, her voice shaking with rage and pain. "I despise you, Clark."
Read Chapter 6 here.