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 prompt by BabyDee1. Sequel to Cherry Red and Cherry Bomb.
Summary: By now, Clark knows to avoid the cherries from Hobb Farm. But isn't he entitled to a little fun, too?
"This is a great pie, Clark."
Clark Kent smiled modestly across the ancient oaken table in his mother's kitchen. "It should be. It's Mom's recipe."
Chloe Sullivan ate another forkful of cherries and piecrust, and smiled back at him. "You're becoming a good cook since Martha went to Washington."
He shrugged a big shoulder. "It's either that, or eat canned beans all the time. I like real food, Chlo."
"This is definitely real food." She ate another forkful and grinned at him. "I hope these cherries didn't come from Hobb Farm?"
"They came from the other side of town," he assured her, and ate a forkful of his own pie, which he'd slathered with whipped cream. Clark didn't have to worry about gaining weight-- his alien metabolism apparently made it impossible for him to get chubby.
"Mmmmm," he said indistinctly, around another mouthful. "This is good."
"It really is." She quirked an eyebrow, and grinned. "But I've always liked cherries."
He grinned back-- or, she thought in surprise, leered. "Yeah," he agreed. "Cherries are great."
They'd lost their virginity together when he'd ingested some red kryptonite via an energy drink called Cherry Red. Not too long after that, he'd gotten another dose of the stuff via some cherries in locally made ice cream, which had led to some wild lovemaking. Red K brought out the bad boy in Clark.
She liked the bad boy, but she was also aware that he could cause a lot of trouble. So she did her best to keep Clark away from red K.
He polished off his first slice, and reached for the pie, cutting off a second, even more generous piece. "It is good," he said, piling more whipped cream on top. She looked on enviously.
"I wish I could eat like that."
"I'll be happy to do my best to help you burn off calories," he offered, and she giggled.
"Clark, we're supposed to be going out with Ollie and Lois tonight, remember?"
He made a face. "I'd rather stay in with you."
"Oh, come on, Clark, it'll be fun. You like science fiction movies."
"Only if I get to make out in the back row with you."
"Clark." She waved her fork at him. "Get your mind out of the gutter, and finish that up, or we're going to be late."
He shoveled the last forkful into his mouth, and looked across the table at her. She gave a start.
"Clark," she said softly. "Your eyes..."
"I don't mind being late," he said, as if she hadn't spoken. "In fact I definitely think we should be late."
"Clark." She stared at him. "Your eyes are red."
He didn't seem alarmed. He only grinned, more widely than before.
"Red alert, baby."
He hadn't lied. Not exactly. He had in fact gotten the cherries all the way across town from Hobb Farm, at the Smallville Farmers Market.
He'd just gotten them from the stand Hobb Farm had there.
Well, he thought, a little defensively, why shouldn't he have fun every now and again? Other people got to cut loose whenever they wanted to. If they wanted to go out and get a little drunk and crazy on Friday night, they could do that. It wasn't fair that everyone else got to have fun, and he didn't.
Not that his life wasn't fun, not at all. Since he'd started dating Chloe he'd had a really good time-- more fun than he could ever remember having. Chloe was a lot of fun. But it wasn't quite the same as being drunk, or high, or whatever you could call his reaction to red K.
He hadn't gone to the Farmers Market with the intention of getting those particular cherries, of course. He'd simply been looking for good local produce, because as an organic farmer himself, he didn't shop for produce at Wal-Mart. He supported the local farms, and in turn they supported him.
He'd walked past Hobb's stand, and those big, beautiful, red cherries had looked so mouthwatering he'd paused to check them out. He'd reached down to pick up a pint, and the next thing he knew, he'd bought several pints' worth.
Just being near them gave him a pleasant buzz, and how he'd managed to hold himself back from devouring them till now, he had no idea. But somehow, he'd managed to wait. And it had been worth the wait, because they'd been delicious, and now there was that warm, buzzing sensation, filling him from the inside out. A sort of comfortable lassitude that was slowly giving way to a powerful sexual tension.
Across the table, Chloe looked dismayed. "Oh, no," she said. "There was red K in the cherries, wasn't there?"
He reached for the pie. "Let me check."
"No." She snatched it away from him. Of course he could move a thousand times faster than she could, but he let her have it, for now. He had plans for it for later. "You've had enough, Clark. More than enough."
"I haven't had any, yet." He stretched lazily. "But I intend to have quite a bit."
She glared at him. "I was talking about cherries."
"Me too," he answered, grinning in anticipation. "Only the cherries are going to be slathered all over your naked body."
Read Chapter 2 here.