The Bright Blessed Day

Clark/Chloe and Lana triangle
Season 5
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Title image from Dynamic Duo.

What a Wonderful World, Part 1

"Ohhhhhhh. That's good."

Clark Kent tried to ignore the soft, satisfied purr that was his best friend's voice, but he couldn't. Chloe Sullivan's words seemed to shimmer along his nerve endings, making all the little hairs on his arms stand up on end.

Or maybe what was affecting him was the feel of her body beneath his hands.

Well, not her body, exactly. At least not the part of her body that would ordinarily make him get goosebumps. If he were interested in her body, which he was not. Although she did have really nice...

But he was getting off track here. The point was that he was rubbing her shoulders through a Met U t-shirt, which was a perfectly okay friend thing to do. And he'd been okay until she'd given that little moan, whereupon every hair on his arms had stood up and his heart had begun thudding and he'd heard a strange roaring in his ears.

"Feel better?" he asked, trying to get things back on an even keel. He'd wrapped up his first week of classes this afternoon. He hadn't wanted to waste the brilliantly sunny afternoon, so he'd whooshed over to Metropolis to see her. He'd come into her dorm room to find her ruefully rubbing at her shoulder, griping about how heavy her bookbag was and how the first week of college had just about killed her, or at least bent her permanently double. He'd offered to rub her shoulders, because it seemed like the proper friend thing to do.

Right now he wished he'd never offered.

No, that wasn't true. He really liked kneading her muscles beneath his hands, liked feeling the warmth of her body against his palms. He liked touching her, a lot more than he should, considering her roommate was his girlfriend. He shouldn't like touching any girl other than Lana Lang.

But... well, Chloe was a girl and he was a guy. He liked touching girls. And that was normal, right? Sure it was. He couldn't help liking it.

"Ohhh, yeahhhh," she answered, in an even breathier moan that made more than just the hairs on his arms stand up. There was a sudden ache, low down, and he realized with extreme chagrin that he'd gotten a hard-on. And fast, too. He'd gone from zero to sixty in like two seconds.

He'd had this reaction to Chloe before. Of course he had. Because she was a hot blonde, and he wasn't immune to the way she looked. She smelled good, too. He lowered his head, just a bit, and surreptitiously drew in the scent of her hair, a citrusy fragrance that made him think of summer sunshine and green leaves fluttering in the breeze.

Oh, yeah, she smelled good, all right.

He tried to call to mind how Lana smelled, and failed utterly. She switched fragrances every week, it seemed like, and she always wore perfumes that were a little too heavy for his personal taste. He had a better sense of smell than any dog. and Lana's strong perfumes were the olfactory equivalent of being clobbered over the head with a two by four. But she changed what she wore so often that he didn't have a clear mental image of exactly what she smelled like.

Chloe, on the other hand-- Chloe had been wearing this light citrus scent every since he'd known her. It wasn't like a two by four. It was refreshing, like jumping into a cool pond in the summertime. He associated it with her-- every laugh he'd ever shared with her, every time he'd ever hugged her, every moment they'd ever spent together-- and just the scent of it was enough to make him smile.

But right now, breathing in the fragrance of her, he wasn't smiling.

His eyes fluttered shut, and he sucked in another breath, fighting the impulse to lower his head and press his nose right into her hair. His hands continued to move on her shoulders, in an automatic, repetitive motion, but the rest of him was totally absorbed by her. The scent of her. The feel of her.

The nearness of her.

"Um," he said, and was shocked at the roughness of his own voice. He hoped she hadn't noticed it. "I don't think I have quite the right angle on this. Come here."

He lowered his hands, grasped her by the waist, and gently lifted her into his lap.

Now she was straddling his thighs, still facing away from him, and her warm, soft ass rested on him, only a few inches away from...

He forced his mind away from that enticing thought and went back to rubbing her shoulders.

"Mmmm," she murmured. "That's great, Clark. But... well..."

She trailed off, and he bent his head. She was so close now, and the subtle scent of her was overwhelming. He remembered his earlier thoughts about racing from zero to sixty, and knew he was way past sixty now. He was zooming along at a hundred and twenty, and he had a bad feeling that he was about to spin out of control entirely.

"What?" he prompted.

"Well... I'm still really sore, and I wondered if... well, the t-shirt is kind of in the way..."

He didn't need to be asked twice. He reached under the hem of her t-shirt, skimming his hands up over the satiny smoothness of her back, and settled his hands onto the bare skin of her shoulders.

It occurred to him that if Lana happened to walk in, she might consider this to be a slightly more than friendly backrub. Having his hands up under another girl's shirt, even Chloe's, might be kind of hard to explain away. Fortunately for him, Lana was at her aunt's house for the weekend.

Not that this was a compromising situation. Not really. He just happened to have his hands all over his best friend's bare skin. But not in that way. Really.

His head lowered a little more, his nostrils flaring as he dragged in another deep breath of her scent. The ache in his jeans intensified, pulsing with every pounding beat of his heart. She felt so good under his hands. She felt so good in his lap. And if she would only slide back toward him... just a few inches...

As if she'd heard his thought, she sighed and arched like a cat beneath his ministrations, and somehow happened to slide up his thighs a bit. His breath caught, because now she was only an inch away, maybe less, so close he could feel her heat. He wanted to slide his hands down her body, grab her hips, and yank her ass right up against him, but he didn't quite dare.

He rubbed her shoulders, sliding down a little, over her shoulderblades. His palms stroked over her bra straps, and that turned him on worse than before, ridiculously enough. It was dumb, because after all, it was just the straps, not the interesting part of the bra at all. But just the idea that he was actually touching her bra knocked all the breath out of him.

He wanted to slide his arms around her, to touch her front the same way he was touching her back, to knead her soft flesh in his hands and to feel the satiny softness of her...

Suddenly he was aware of the harsh sound of his own breathing. He was panting like he'd run a marathon with a brick of kryptonite strapped to his back. She couldn't possibly have failed to notice the ragged sound of his breathing. He sounded unmistakably turned on.

She leaned her head back against his shoulder, and he pressed his face into her hair and let himself breathe her in.

She smelled sweet and sensual, and his hands slid down of their own accord, grasping her hips and pulling her snugly against him. A soft gasp escaped him at the pressure of her soft bottom against his desperately hard erection. She moved against him, squirming a little, and he gasped again as his cock jerked urgently.

His hands slid back up under the blue cotton of her t-shirt, trailing along her front this time. His palms caressed the smooth, flat plane of her abdomen, then slid upward.

She made a little moaning sound and twisted against him, and the pressure was so good, sofuckinggood, he thought he'd come on the spot. But he couldn't, because this was Chloe, his friend, and he was dating her roommate, and he'd just been giving her a shoulder rub, for God's sake, and yet somehow they'd...

God, this was messed up. How had this happened, anyway?

However it had happened, he didn't want to stop.

But he had to, because the soft cheek of her ass was rubbing right against him, and... oh, God. The throbbing in his jeans was so intense it almost hurt. He heard himself gasping for breath, and barely managed to bite back a moan of pleasure.

He knew he shouldn't move his hands any higher, but he couldn't help himself. He pressed them right against her boobs, then let his hands curl, cupping her abundant flesh. She had beautiful breasts, just big enough to fill his hands-- and he had big hands, so they were definitely nice and full. He could feel her nipples, erect and hard, pressing against his palms right through the fabric, and he knew she was just as turned on as he was.

He squeezed her breasts, a little roughly, and she moaned again, arching her head back against his shoulder. He could feel the tension in her body, a tension that matched his own. To his shock, he realized his hips were moving, rubbing against her, in slow, rocking movements that mimicked sex.

And even through jeans, it felt better than anything he'd ever experienced before. He'd always thought of dry humping as sort of raw, almost crass, but Chloe was his friend. More than his friend, really, if he was going to be honest about it. And so there was something about the sensations rolling through him that wasn't base or crass. In fact it felt almost... sacred.

He knew he should stop playing with her breasts, but having touched them, he just couldn't stop. He squeezed her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, and she gave a soft, strangled cry. Beneath her citrus scent, he could smell something earthy and sexual, and he noticed her skin was growing damp. She was perspiring, but more than that, she was... well... wet.

The thought almost drove him over the edge. He ground his teeth to hold back his orgasm, desperate not to give into this-- whatever this was. He wasn't supposed to be getting this turned on by Chloe. It was one thing to get the occasional hard-on in her presence, and entirely another to...

Well, he didn't want things to change. And he didn't want things to get complicated. And if he let this happen-- well, things were going to get seriously complicated, and they were for sure going to change.

So he couldn't. He just couldn't.

But his balls were taut, and an aching heat pulsed through his cock, and he just didn't know how to stop.

He slid his hand down between her thighs. Her legs were parted, but she opened them further, and he caressed her right through her jeans. She was so hot against his fingers, and as he touched her she gasped and writhed and cried out.

And then she was shuddering, her voice raised in a suffocated cry, and he knew she was coming. And he lost it.

He thrust against her violently, and heat and ecstasy flowed through him like an electrical current. He'd never felt anything like it before. He buried his face in her hair, trying to muffle the noises that came out of his mouth. His body moved wildly as sparks burst deep inside him, a long explosion of fire that felt impossibly good. His spine arched and all his muscles tensed. And then, very slowly, his body relaxed, and he let out a long, long sigh.

His brain must have gone offline, because everything after that was a blur. But sometime later, he found himself lying on his side in the bed, her warm, soft body curled against his. Apparently he'd kind of fallen over after he'd come. Which wasn't a surprise, because his muscles had felt like water.

The bright sunshine was still pouring through the window, bathing them both in warmth. He pressed his face into her hair and drew in the scent of her. She still smelled sweet and citrusy, but with a sexy edge that made his head spin. She fit in his arms so well, he thought. She fit against him so perfectly. It was like she'd been made to fit him, and he'd never noticed until now.

He'd never realized how much he wanted her.

He closed his eyes, confused by his muddled emotions. He had a girlfriend. He shouldn't have done this. And now that he'd done it, he didn't have a clue what he should do next, or where they should go from here.

He thought they should probably discuss it, but he didn't have a clue what to say. Anyway, he was too tired to discuss anything. She'd worn him out. Despite the bright afternoon sunshine that streamed in through the window, he was exhausted.

He noticed she was already snoring contentedly making a sound like a tiny little buzz saw, and he grinned against her hair. Nothing was resolved between them, but despite what had happened, they were still comfortable with each other, comfortable enough that they could fall asleep in each other's arms. He was somewhat relieved to realize that.

He closed his eyes and let himself drift into sleep. When they woke up, they'd have to figure out exactly where they needed to go from here, and where exactly they wanted to take their relationship.

But right now, for just an hour or two, he'd let himself relax, with Chloe Sullivan in his arms, and forget about everything else.

Just for now, he'd let himself forget everything... except her.

-The End-