Season 6, "Progeny"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Based on a plot bunny by RichardAK.
From your face, your eyes
Are burning to me
You saved me, you gave me
Just what I need
Her hands pushed his t-shirt up, and any arguments he'd intended to make died an instant death at the touch of her hands on his skin. Her warm, smooth palms ran up his abdomen, so lightly that they tickled a little. He squirmed under her, helpless, his eyelashes fluttering shut, his head arching back. He heard a little whimpering sound and realized it was his own voice.
His hips rose to meet hers, in an eager, sexual motion that he couldn't seem to stop. Her hands moved higher, over his ribs, stroking his sides and his chest, and he practically writhed beneath her. Her hands felt soft and gentle on him, and their bodies felt incredible moving together. He knew he ought to have ethical problems with this situation, but he just couldn't manage to articulate a protest somehow.
My world might be ending, Clark.
He couldn't envision his own world without Chloe Sullivan in it. They'd been close friends for years. Since eighth grade, in fact. She'd given him his first kiss, she'd broken him of the habit of using commas where he really needed to use periods, she'd helped him discover one of his superpowers. She was an important part of his life, maybe the most important part of his life, and he wouldn't be the person he was today without her.
His hands lifted in an automatic response and slid up under her pink tank top, stroking up her back, along the graceful line of her spine. Her skin was satiny soft under his hands, and she gasped and wiggled as if he was tickling her, too. She lost the rhythm of her movements briefly, her hips jerking erratically, and it was almost enough to send him right over the edge. He gritted his teeth, feeling himself throbbing.
"Chloe," he said between his teeth. "Hold still."
"I can't. You're tickling me."
"Should I stop?"
Her hands slid up further, over the sensitive skin beneath his collarbones, and he moaned, his body jerking against hers. That tickled a little too, but he didn't want her to stop either. But the problem was that all the squirming they were doing was making him crazy.
She lifted her head and looked down at him. Her eyes were burning, glowing molten gold with need and desire. He had a feeling his eyes were just about as bright.
"Clark," she whispered. "I want you."
She'd said that before, and it had pretty much knocked down all his walls. It had the same effect this time. He closed his eyes and let his hands slide down, curving his fingers around her hips and holding her possessively against him.
"Yeah," he said softly. "Me too."
Her hands slipped down his abdomen, making him gasp and squirm again, and then she was unfastening his jeans. He was a little surprised to find himself undoing her shorts. They shoved at each other's clothes, eagerly, almost frantically. Seconds later their clothing lay in a crumpled pile on the floor, and their hands were roaming desperately over each other's naked bodies.
Nothing had really changed. The barn was still dank and dusty and smelly, and not a fit place for him to make love to her. And she still had a boyfriend. But right now, none of that mattered to him. Because all he could think about was the possibility of losing her, and how badly it would hurt if it happened. Suddenly he couldn't bring himself to stop touching her.
The couch was still too damn narrow, though. He managed to roll her over, leaned over her, and rocked his hips against hers. He could feel heat radiating from her, could feel the light brush of the soft hair at the juncture of her thighs, and it made his cock twitch desperately.
He moved forward a bit. He only meant to rub against her slightly, to slide against her moisture a bit, but she was so slick and soft that he slipped right into her body. She sobbed and clutched at his hips, her legs lifting to wrap around his waist, and suddenly their bodies were melded together, hot and deep, and it was so awesomely good that he couldn't stop moving.
Her hips rose to meet his, thrust for thrust, and he kissed her deeply, groaning into her mouth. He could hear her making similar noises, only higher, little high-pitched noises of pleasure. He struggled to control himself, to keep it slow, but her hands slid upward, over his back, and it tickled. He couldn't stop himself from squirming.
And suddenly he was out of control, his rhythm gone, his body crashing into hers in violent, erratic thrusts as ecstasy shuddered through him. It was like an earthquake, deep and powerful and irresistible, rocking him to his foundations.
At last it was over, and he dropped his head against her shoulder, breathing in long, shivering gasps. She wrapped her arms around him and held him, her face against his throat.
His eyes stung, and he realized they were burning with tears. He hadn't realized how terribly important Chloe was to him until this moment. When she'd made love to him, she'd given him everything he wanted, everything he needed, and suddenly he didn't think he could live without her.
He remembered Moira saying, You're in love with her. He still wasn't sure Moira was right. He didn't know if he was in love with Chloe or not. But he did know that every obstacle that had ever held them apart suddenly seemed very small, and totally irrelevant.
All that seemed relevant was the fact that Chloe was in his arms... where she belonged.
And then I crashed into you
And I went up in flames
Could've been the death of me
But then you breathed your breath in me
Clark gently placed the unresponsive Moira Sullivan into the long black limo and fastened her seat belt, then straightened up. He took a step back from the vehicle and stood next to Chloe. They stood shoulder to shoulder, watching as the limo pulled away from the curb. Its license plate read Q5.
"Don't worry, Chlo," he said. "Ollie will make sure she's safe."
"I know that." Her voice quivered a bit, but she sounded steady enough. "I just wish there was something we could do for her."
"We could try," he answered. "But you heard what she said. She was afraid Lex might try to use her as a weapon again."
Chloe's chin tilted up at a pugnacious angle he'd seen more than once. "Then if we want to help her, we're going to have to find a way to stop Lex."
"Chloe," he said gently. "You already know how to stop Lex."
She hesitated, watching the red taillights of the limo as it disappeared in the distance. "The power of the press, you mean."
"Yeah. That's your superpower, Chlo."
"I'll write the article," she said. "But Lex will find some way to stop it from going to print."
"Maybe. But you have to try."
"Okay." She looked up at him, her eyes dry. He figured she'd gotten all her tears out earlier, when she'd sobbed against his shoulder. "I'll head back to the Daily Planet and get started, then."
It was getting late, but he knew Chloe well enough to know she wouldn't be able to sleep until she got a good start on that story. "All right," he said, reaching out and giving her an awkward, one-armed hug. "Call me if you need me."
She leaned her head against his shoulder, just for a moment, then lifted her head and smiled up at him.
"I always do," she answered softly.
And I crashed into you
Like a runaway train
You will consume me
But I can't walk away
Chloe brushed a light, loving kiss over Clark's throat, and he was pretty sure she'd come to much the same conclusions as he had. That she'd realized how much he meant to her, and how much better they were together.
His arms tightened around her, and he swore to himself that he wasn't going to let her suffer her mother's fate. He remembered his assurance to Moira: I won't let anything happen to her. Not ever. I promise.
He wasn't going to lose her to this meteor freak thing, no matter what. If she became catatonic, he'd damn well steal the antidote and then somehow convince Lex to make enough of it to keep her lucid for the rest of her life. If she mutated some other way, he'd figure out how to stop the change. He'd beg for help from Ollie if he had to, beg for help from Lex if he had to. Hell, he'd sell his soul to the devil himself if he had to. Somehow, some way, he'd find a way to save her.
He didn't care what it took. He was going to keep her safe. He was going to keep her here with him. He wasn't ever going to lose her, damn it.
He wouldn't ever walk away from her.