Say My Name

Clark/Chloe
Season 6, after "Freak"
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."

The soft voice roused him out of the sleepy, peaceful state that always came right before he succumbed to exhaustion for the night. He stirred, realizing Chloe's voice had roused him in more way than one. He hadn't ever heard her say his name in quite that way.

He rolled over, blinking sleepily in the darkness of his bedroom, straining his superhearing almost automatically. Chloe Sullivan lived in the apartment over the Talon, on Smallville's Main Street, and he lived way out in the country. He could hear her from a long distance away, but ordinarily he didn't listen in on her, because they were close friends, not lovers, and he tried not to invade her privacy. But she'd activated his superhearing by saying his name.

And she'd sounded so soft and sensual that he couldn't seem to turn it off.

He strained his ears in the darkness, wondering why she'd said his name. He wondered if she needed him, if he should get out of bed and go to her.

There was a throaty little moan, and then she said his name again, very softly.

The way she said it this time made the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up, as if she'd been in bed with him and blown in his ear. And that was a crazy thought, because Chloe and he were just friends, and they weren't ever in bed together. And even if they were, for some wild reason, she certainly wouldn't blow in his ear. They were just friends.

Even so, the thought of her blowing in his ear sent goosebumps sweeping down his arms and chest.

He stirred uncomfortably, aware that he was totally hard. He heard a little gasp, a quick, indrawn breath, and he clenched his eyes shut.

No. I am not listening to her while she...

But once his superhearing was activated, it wasn't all that easy to turn off. He wasn't a machine, after all, just a guy who didn't always have perfect control over his abilities. And now that he'd figured out what she was doing, there wasn't any possible way he could stop listening. He was only human, after all.

Well, not quite, actually. But he had pretty much the same weaknesses as any human male.

He could hear Chloe so clearly she might as well be in the same room with him, instead of half a county away. Her body shifted against the sheets, and he heard the slide of something satiny, and figured she was probably shoving her nightgown up. His heart pounded at the thought.

And then she uttered another little moan, and he was lost.

Heat swelled inside him, uncontrollable and overpowering. Unable to stop himself, he reached down and slid a hand over his boxers. He was hard as steel, and his erection throbbed hungrily as he brushed his palm over it.

Three minutes ago, he'd been warm and sleepy and totally relaxed, but now he was wide awake and alert. He was still warm, but not at all in the same way. He felt like he was burning up from the inside out. Heat rushed through his veins with every beat of his heart, and he felt sweat starting to trickle down his chest.

Chloe murmured his name again, her voice vibrant with need and desire, and he knew a light brush of his hand wasn't going to be enough. He shoved his boxers out of the way with frantic haste and wrapped his hand around his cock.

It was hot and swollen, the head already wet. He meant just to touch himself a little, to relieve the ache a bit, but then she said his name again, her voice low and sensual.

He couldn't hold himself back, or go slow. Or, God forbid, stop. He couldn't possibly stop this now, not with her voice whispering his name over and over again, and her heartbeat pounding like summer thunder in his ears. He wrapped his fingers around himself so tightly it almost hurt, and thrust hard, his hips moving in a fast staccato rhythm.

He heard her voice rising, moans that were soft but unmistakable, and he knew she was about to come. Tension filled his body, making every muscle taut, making him ache everywhere.

"Ohhhh, yes, oh, yes... yes, Clark..."

She sobbed out his name for the last time, her voice high-pitched. He heard her heartbeat drumming wildly, heard her gasping for breath, heard her body writhing against the sheets, and he knew she was coming.

He imagined her hips moving in a desperate rhythm, imagined her fingers stroking through her moisture, and he couldn't hold himself back any longer. He moved his own hand harder and faster, and ecstasy filled him to the brim, then overflowed.

Come erupted from him in a rush, his release so hard, so violent, that he couldn't suppress his own cries. He felt come spurt over his stomach in hot jets, and his body twisted wildly against the sheets as pleasure engulfed him.

And then his hand fell away and he collapsed back on his pillow, his eyes fluttering shut. Suddenly he felt even more peaceful and content than he had earlier. He mopped at his stomach with a corner of the sheet, then stretched out and sighed happily. Exhaustion settled over him like one of his grandmother's handmade quilts, and all his muscles relaxed.

She'd gone silent, too, and he heard her heartbeat slowing as she began to drift off to sleep. He let himself begin to float toward unconsciousness, thinking vaguely that it was kind of funny she'd said his name that way. He'd never heard her say it before while she...

Wait a minute.

His eyes snapped open, and suddenly he remembered a conversation they'd had a couple of days earlier.

They'd both been worried, because she'd been abducted and experimented on, and both of them knew it could happen again. Clark had wanted her to stay at the Kent farm with her, had practically begged her to stay where he could keep an eye on her, but she'd declined. She had a job and a life, and she damn well wasn't going to let anyone scare her into staying in the country when she had important things to accomplish.

At last he'd sighed, and given up trying to change her mind.

"Okay," he'd told her. "But if you think anyone's following you, or you might be in any sort of trouble, just call me, okay? And I don't mean on your cell. All you have to do is say my name, and I'll be there."

She blinked at him incredulously. "Are you telling me you can hear my voice when I'm at the Talon and you're on the farm?"

"Chlo, I can hear your voice when you're in Metropolis. But only if you say my name, because I don't want to spy on you. If you need me... just say my name."

Now he lay in bed and stared into the darkness, remembering his own words. If you need me... just say my name.

His memory of the conversation put a whole different spin on what had just happened.

Oh, my God, he thought with shock. She said my name on purpose. She knew I'd hear her.

They'd always been good friends, but nothing more, and the idea that she'd wanted him to hear her, to listen to her while she engaged in such a profoundly intimate activity, stunned him. She must have suspected he'd react exactly as he had, and the idea that she'd wanted to make him hot, well...

He wasn't quite sure what she'd been thinking, or why she'd done it, but he had a feeling it represented a seismic shift in their relationship. He thought about going to the Talon to talk to her about it, but her heartbeat had slowed, and he knew she'd fallen asleep.

And that was just as well, because he wasn't sure he had the guts to tell her that he'd listened to her, and that he'd responded the way he had. He and Chloe had always been friends, not lovers, and he wasn't quite sure he was ready to acknowledge that things had changed between them. Not yet.

Even so, as he rolled over in bed and closed his own eyes, he couldn't stop himself from feeling a hot little stab of anticipation.

Maybe tomorrow night... she'd say his name again.

-The End-