Lacrymosa, Chapter 3

Clark/Chloe
Season 7, MHE to "Bizarro"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Read the previous chapter here.
Read the story from the beginning here.

Suddenly his hands were fumbling at her jeans, trying frantically to unfasten them. She helped, wiggling and shifting and squirming, and seconds later he had an armful of Chloe clad in nothing but a green shirt. It was low cut, and a great color on her, but he decided it had to go, too, so he stripped it off, along with her bra.

She settled back onto his lap, stark naked.

That's better, he thought. A vague, fuzzy thought of Lana flickered through his head, along with the uncomfortable sense that he was being disloyal, but he ignored it. Lana was gone.

And besides, the honest truth was that he'd never wanted Lana with this all-consuming need. He'd never ached for her so desperately.

He pushed that thought aside, deciding it was better not to think about what that might mean just now.

As Chloe's bare body pressed against his, he had the sudden horrible image of her lying in the morgue drawer, naked but for a sheet. But he shoved that thought away too. He wasn't going to think about that right now, damn it.

He wanted to focus on Chloe, alive and well and in his lap, right here and right now.

Her body moved on his hard, almost aggressively, and his head dropped back, his eyelashes fluttering, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He wasn't used to Chloe being aggressive in their relationship. Yeah, she was a tiger when it came to hunting down stories-- but relationship-wise, she tended to be a little on the hesitant side. Twice over the years he'd thought maybe they could become more than friends, and both times she'd withdrawn from him. She tended to pull away when things got too intense.

But she wasn't pulling away from him now. Her lips were all over his throat and jaw and ears, and her body moved on his, so urgently he was afraid she was going to push him over the edge before he could even get his jeans off. Crackling electricity shot through his nervous system, heating his body to unbearable levels. He caught at her hips.

"Wait," he said through clenched teeth.

"I can't wait." She writhed frantically against him, and he gave a strangled moan and let her. Already he was pulsing with a hot, feverish beat, and he knew he couldn't hold out much longer.

"Chlo." His voice was almost a sob. "I want... I want to be inside you, Chloe."

"Can't wait..." She was kissing his throat wildly. "Can't stop..."

He could feel her body, damp and hot, right through his jeans. God, she was so wet. The thought of how it would feel to be inside her made his hard-on spasm harder. His hands moved frantically, sliding all over her slick, smooth skin. She lifted her head, and he kissed her, long and hard, feeling the heat of her mouth against his, tasting her tangy sweetness.

And then she cried out, her body arching, rubbing against him harder than ever.

He felt her shaking as she climaxed, felt her movements grow fast and erratic, and he gritted his teeth, struggling against the orgasm that tried to sweep through him. He wanted very badly to come, but he wanted to be inside her even more, so he exerted every ounce of self-control he possessed and fought back the pleasure that threatened to overwhelm him.

At last her body relaxed, and she fell against his shoulder.

The more primitive part of him wanted to just unzip his jeans and fuck her, right now. He shoved his urgent needs to the side and just held her, letting himself enjoy the sensation of warm, relaxed, naked Chloe in his arms. Despite the demanding, throbbing needs of his body, his eyelids slowly drifted shut.

And then he felt her shoulders begin to jerk with sobs.

"Hey." He opened his eyes and looked down at the rumpled top of her head, worried. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm n-not okay." Her voice wavered, but she didn't look up. Her face was buried in the plaid flannel of his shirt. "I died and came b-back to life." A soft, heartbreaking sob. "Maybe you don't realize this, but for humans, that's not n-normal."

He looked down at her with compassion. He didn't blame her for being upset, but he figured he could understand her and her situation as well as anyone on Earth. Because something a lot like this had happened to him a couple of years ago.

He remembered his own voice, full of anguished despair, when he'd died as a mortal and been resurrected with his powers: I guess I'll never be able to escape who I really am.

Chloe, he thought slowly, couldn't escape who she really was, either.

Maybe this condition wasn't "normal," but they knew she'd been infected by the meteor rocks as a child. So it had been a part of her since she was very small. It just hadn't manifested itself till now.

But whatever mutation the meteor rocks had induced in her DNA had been there since long before he'd known her. Which meant she was no different than she'd ever been. She was the same Chloe he'd always known.

This was who she was. And the sooner they both accepted it, and moved on to dealing with it, the better. Because grieving was for things that couldn't be repaired. And right now, he wasn't willing to throw in the towel and concede this couldn't be repaired, or at least controlled.

He looked down at her rumpled blonde head with affection and repeated the words of wisdom she'd uttered, so long ago.

"Being normal is highly overrated, Chlo."

She uttered a shaky laugh. At least he thought it was a laugh, but it might have been another sob. "It's not n-nice of you to throw my words back in my face, Clark."

"I'm not." He squeezed her with careful gentleness. "It's true. Look, I know this is all scary. But what we need to do is figure out how to control it somehow. Now that it's manifested itself, you have to learn how to control it, so it doesn't control you."

She lifted her head and looked at him. He saw tears streaking her cheeks, and his heart twisted painfully. He really didn't like to see her cry, and she'd had so much to cry about lately.

"Sure," she answered, and he was relieved to note that her tone was almost back to its normal snarkiness. Chloe had never been one to cry for long. "Just go kill Lois again, and I'll practice."

He smiled. "Don't tempt me."

She gave another of those tremulous laughs. "The thing is, I just don't know how to learn to control it, Clark. I mean, it's not like I did it on purpose. It just kind of... came out of nowhere."

"I know." He looked at her steadily. "That's how my powers worked when they first showed up, too. You wouldn't believe the problems I had with my heat vision at first. I had to work really hard at controlling it."

"The problem is," she said, "that this-- whatever it is-- seems to involve healing sick people. So unless Lois manages to get stabbed again..."

"There are other sick people out there, Chlo. You just have to go where you can find them." A light dawned. "Like the medical center."

She blinked at him with exaggerated incredulity for a moment, then nodded her head. "Sure, Clark. That's a great idea. Shall I start in the burn ward, or on the cancer floor?"

He closed his eyes, seeing her in the stainless steel drawer again. "You can't go anywhere people are dying," he said gruffly. "Maybe the emergency room..." But people died there too, or had horrible injuries, and he didn't want her to risk that, either. "What about a doctor's office? Like, I don't know, a pediatrician?"

She sighed. "I can't just hang around a pediatrician's waiting room all day, Clark. They'll call the cops."

"So tell them you're writing an article. Make up a cover story. You're good at that." He squeezed her a little harder, trying to get his point across. His erection throbbed against her, but he ignored it. "Chlo, somehow you have to figure out how this works. You have to, before you wind up dead again."

She looked into his eyes for a long moment.

"Okay," she said at last, with a tremulous sigh. "It's a plan. Not a very good one, but at least it's a plan. And having a plan is better than sitting around crying about it, I guess."

"That's my girl," he said softly.

She looked at him with a faint curve to her mouth. "So I guess I should just be going, huh?"

His eyes went wide with panic, and she burst out laughing. A real laugh this time, he noticed with some relief.

"Take it easy, Clark. I'm just kidding. I wasn't going to go just yet." She moved against him, and he closed his eyes and groaned. She brushed another kiss over his throat and spoke in a soft, sexy voice.

"We still have something we need to finish."

Read Chapter 4 here.