Time in a Bottle, Chapter 2

Clark/Chloe
Season 7, MHE for "Cure"
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.

"Clark." Her head was still against his shoulder, and her voice was very faint. "Let's get out of here. Please."

He understood her reluctance to be here. She'd almost been killed in this room, after all. The smells of formaldehyde and ether and sickness hung heavy in the air, and he knew he'd never smell any of those odors again without associating them with the fear he'd felt when he burst into the room and saw Knox holding a scalpel against her chest.

Yes, he thought, picking her up and cradling her against him. It was definitely time to get out of here.

Carrying her as if she weighed nothing at all-- which from his perspective was pretty much the case-- he ran out into the night. A second later they came to a halt beneath a starry dome of sky. She blinked, obviously trying to reorient herself, and looked up.

"Where are we?"

"The country. We're still a little ways from Smallville. I just wanted to smell the fresh air."

"Yeah." Her nose wrinkled. "I could use some fresh air myself. It's a little chilly, though."

"You want my jacket?"

"No." She tightened her arms around his neck. "You're plenty warm."

He was warmer than she knew. As her arms tightened around him, a strange heat built inside him. It felt almost like when his heat vision had first developed. It had grown in his eyes to the point where he couldn't help let it out. This felt almost the same, like his body was filled with heat and he had to expel it somehow, before he just went up in flames. Even the nighttime breeze couldn't seem to cool his skin.

"Uh," he said, because he couldn't think of any other words. The heat seemed to be melting his brain. He lowered her feet to the ground, but didn't release her waist. She stood there next to him, her arms still around his neck, and looked up into his eyes.

There were a billion stars overhead, and astronomy had fascinated him since he was a small child, long before he'd known he was an alien. And yet right now he didn't have the slightest interest in the stars overhead. All he wanted to look at was her eyes.

God, she had beautiful eyes.

He thought of never looking into her eyes again, never again seeing that particular shade of mingled green and gold. There were so many things he would miss if anything happened to her. Her eyes. Her smile. Her snarky sense of humor. The way they could talk about nothing for hours at a time.

He thought of his earlier, startling realization that Chloe was the one he wanted to go through his life with, and knew it was true. This was the one pair of eyes he wanted to look into every day for the rest of his life. No matter how long his life was.

Unable to stop himself, he bent and kissed her.

She made a surprised hmmphhhing sound and tried to pull back, but he didn't let her get away. He caught her by the hair, very gently, and held her in place. His lips moved against hers softly, and after her brief surprised reaction, she began to respond, her lips moving against his.

They kissed, softly but intensely, for long moments. And then her tongue slipped out and very shyly traced the contours of his mouth.

He moaned, responding instinctively. His tongue touched hers, and then he found himself thrust his tongue into her mouth, exploring and tasting. More little moans rose from him, but he didn't try to muffle them. They were in the middle of nowhere, with no one around for miles, and he could damn well moan if he felt like it.

And he definitely felt like it.

He heard her moaning too, making funny little high-pitched sounds deep in her throat. His hands slid down to her hips and wrapped around them, digging gently into the soft globes of her ass, and then he was tugging her against him. And that felt so damn good.

He was really hard, and the feel of her body against his made the heat inside him build to even higher levels. He found himself moving his hips, so that his erection slid against her, and it felt beyond good. It made his knees buckle.

Suddenly he couldn't stand up any longer, so he let himself drop to the ground, pulling her down with him.

He half expected her to protest at stretching out in the grass with him, but she didn't. Her body covered his, their legs twining together, their mouths practically welded into one. Her body moved, smoothly and sinuously, against his, and he was pretty sure he was just going to spontaneously combust.

And the truth was, he didn't give a damn.

Fire shot through him as their bodies moved together. Her hands began touching him, sliding up beneath his red t-shirt and stroking his skin, and he made a small noise of shocked pleasure as her palm slid over his chest and abdomen.

He wondered why on earth they hadn't touched like this before. Why he hadn't just begged her to touch him, why he hadn't run his hands all over her beautiful silky skin. It felt so good it seemed like a real pity they hadn't done this before now. They'd spent eight years carefully not touching each other.

Stupid, he thought, and began trying to make up for lost time.

Read Chapter 3 here.