Fic: Something in the Air - Part Seven
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Saunders Gorge continued
Clark looks at the thundercloud again. It’s dark and heavy with water, but it just won’t rain. There must be something he can do.
Whatever it is, he has to do it quick. The longer he waits the more likely it is that the gas will seep into the car and affect Chloe.
She could turn into some kind of wanton, horny freak in heat. She might tear off all her clothes, sprawl across the hood of the car, spread her legs and beg him to--
Heat rays shoot out of Clark’s eyes and into the storm cloud.
Immediately there’s a flash of lightening and a crack of thunder. Big, cold raindrops start to fall.
Clark can see the purple vapor cling to the rain as it plummets to the ground. Chloe’s plan worked. The rain is washing the gas out of the air.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Sidewalk along Main Street
“What the fuck?”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Kent Farm
“Clark’s going to kill me.”
“Don’t worry, Pete of the Gods. I will protect you.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Talon Apartment
“Jimmy, there are some fetish clubs in Metropolis I like to frequent. Want to come with me some time?”
“Okay, but right now I need a nap.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Luthor Mansion
“Lex?”
“Mrs. Kent?”
“Wow. We did it, what, three times?”
“Umm… three and a half.”
“Oh, right.”
“So, I guess we should…”
“Finish up.”
“Yeah.”
“Lex!”
“Mrs. Kent!”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Back at Saunders Gorge…
Clark climbs into the passenger seat of Chloe’s car and shuts the door.
“We did it,” he says as he shakes the droplets from his hair. “We saved Smallville.”
“I can’t believe your heat vision made it rain,” Chloe says. “Everything I know about science and weather tells me that it shouldn’t have worked.”
“Well, it did,” Clark says, “so don’t question it.”
They face forward and look out over the gorge. A lightening bolt flashes across the sky illuminating the scenery.
“This is a pretty view,” Chloe says.
“Yeah,” Clark agrees.
Wait. When did he put his arm around her shoulder? Shouldn’t he be aware when he does things like that?
“And I like the sound of the rain pounding on the roof of the car.” Chloe leans against him. “It’s very relaxing.”
Clark isn’t feeling relaxed. No sir. He’s feeling something else entirely.
“Clark?” She looks up at him. Her lips are just a few inches from his. Pink and plump, they call to him.
Well, they don’t literally call to him. They call to him non-verbally. His lips itch to respond.
“What?” he asks.
“You’re sure the gas is gone?”
“I think so,” he says as he stares into her large hazel eyes. “I don’t see it or smell it anymore. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” Her voice is soft and enticing. “I think, just, maybe, I can feel it.”
“Yeah.” His voice is low and full of need. “I think I feel it too.”
“How is that possible?” She tilts her face up, bringing her lips that much closer to his. “You’re immune.”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. She smells so good.
“I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe it got into the car. Maybe it’s concentrated in here.”
“And we’re helpless against it,” she whispers.
“Yeah.”
His nose brushes against hers. She tilts her head slightly, allowing Clark the perfect angle to kiss her.
“Chloe,” he murmurs, “we have to get out of the car.”
She stares at his lips hungrily. “You’re right.”
Then she pulls away from him, pushes her door open and climbs out into the rain.
He follows her, scrambling out of his side of the car.
As soon as the cold rain hits his skin he can feel the effects of the gas, if it was the gas, wearing off. Clark’s in control again. He’s not seconds away from making desperate, passionate love to his best friend.
“That was close,” he says as he makes his way around the car.
“Too close,” Chloe laughs.
The rain pours over her, soaking her hair and clothes and running in driblets down her skin.
Clark watches the water stream over her shoulder, around the swell of her breasts and disappear beneath the low collar of her blouse.
He can’t help wondering what it would look like if her blouse wasn’t there. How the rain would bead and flow over her flesh. How it would drip, drip, drip from her nipples. How he would catch those drips on his tongue and then lick her dry.
The cold rainwater doesn’t seem to be dampening his desires at all. In fact it seems to be stiffening them, hardening them. It feels like his desires are about to burst out of his jeans.
He takes several deep breaths, trying to gain back his control, but that doesn’t help either. More oxygen in the blood means the blood flows faster, racing to parts of his body where the pressure is already reaching dangerous levels.
“Chloe,” he says, “we have to get out of the rain.”
Chloe stares, transfixed, at Clark’s soaked T-shirt. She’s breathing heavily too. “You’re right.”
He grabs her up in his arms and runs as fast as he can, finding an old hunting cabin closed for the season.
He bursts open the door and puts her down inside.
“We made it,” he pants, but not from exhaustion.
“Yeah,” she says as she moves away from him. “We’re safe.”
But they’re not safe, not by a long shot. They’re still in deep danger.
There’s nothing safe about the way Chloe’s wet hair curls around her face, or how her clothes hug her curves.
Clark looks around the cabin, at the old table that looks like it’s about to fall over, at the utilitarian chairs lined up against the wall, at the narrow bed in the corner, anywhere except at Chloe and her form hugging clothes.
But maybe they’re not hugging her so much. She’s had a couple seconds to dry off.
He only means to glance at her, but somehow his eyes get stuck. He can’t look away. It’s like she’s a magnate and his eyes are made of steel.
And her clothes are still hugging her. They’re hugging Chloe like she’s the love of their life. Why is he jealous of her clothes?
Goosebumps pop out all over her arms and she shivers.
“You cold?” Clark asks.
“No,” she says, but her nipples disagree. They poke against her blouse, announcing how cold they are.
Clark shouldn’t be staring at her breasts like this, but it’s not his fault. They started it.
“Chloe,” he says, “we have to get out of these clothes.”
She closes her eyes and parts her lips. “You’re right.”
(tbc)
Part Eight
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Saunders Gorge continued
Clark looks at the thundercloud again. It’s dark and heavy with water, but it just won’t rain. There must be something he can do.
Whatever it is, he has to do it quick. The longer he waits the more likely it is that the gas will seep into the car and affect Chloe.
She could turn into some kind of wanton, horny freak in heat. She might tear off all her clothes, sprawl across the hood of the car, spread her legs and beg him to--
Heat rays shoot out of Clark’s eyes and into the storm cloud.
Immediately there’s a flash of lightening and a crack of thunder. Big, cold raindrops start to fall.
Clark can see the purple vapor cling to the rain as it plummets to the ground. Chloe’s plan worked. The rain is washing the gas out of the air.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Sidewalk along Main Street
“What the fuck?”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Kent Farm
“Clark’s going to kill me.”
“Don’t worry, Pete of the Gods. I will protect you.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Talon Apartment
“Jimmy, there are some fetish clubs in Metropolis I like to frequent. Want to come with me some time?”
“Okay, but right now I need a nap.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Luthor Mansion
“Lex?”
“Mrs. Kent?”
“Wow. We did it, what, three times?”
“Umm… three and a half.”
“Oh, right.”
“So, I guess we should…”
“Finish up.”
“Yeah.”
“Lex!”
“Mrs. Kent!”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Back at Saunders Gorge…
Clark climbs into the passenger seat of Chloe’s car and shuts the door.
“We did it,” he says as he shakes the droplets from his hair. “We saved Smallville.”
“I can’t believe your heat vision made it rain,” Chloe says. “Everything I know about science and weather tells me that it shouldn’t have worked.”
“Well, it did,” Clark says, “so don’t question it.”
They face forward and look out over the gorge. A lightening bolt flashes across the sky illuminating the scenery.
“This is a pretty view,” Chloe says.
“Yeah,” Clark agrees.
Wait. When did he put his arm around her shoulder? Shouldn’t he be aware when he does things like that?
“And I like the sound of the rain pounding on the roof of the car.” Chloe leans against him. “It’s very relaxing.”
Clark isn’t feeling relaxed. No sir. He’s feeling something else entirely.
“Clark?” She looks up at him. Her lips are just a few inches from his. Pink and plump, they call to him.
Well, they don’t literally call to him. They call to him non-verbally. His lips itch to respond.
“What?” he asks.
“You’re sure the gas is gone?”
“I think so,” he says as he stares into her large hazel eyes. “I don’t see it or smell it anymore. Why do you ask?”
“No reason.” Her voice is soft and enticing. “I think, just, maybe, I can feel it.”
“Yeah.” His voice is low and full of need. “I think I feel it too.”
“How is that possible?” She tilts her face up, bringing her lips that much closer to his. “You’re immune.”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. She smells so good.
“I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe it got into the car. Maybe it’s concentrated in here.”
“And we’re helpless against it,” she whispers.
“Yeah.”
His nose brushes against hers. She tilts her head slightly, allowing Clark the perfect angle to kiss her.
“Chloe,” he murmurs, “we have to get out of the car.”
She stares at his lips hungrily. “You’re right.”
Then she pulls away from him, pushes her door open and climbs out into the rain.
He follows her, scrambling out of his side of the car.
As soon as the cold rain hits his skin he can feel the effects of the gas, if it was the gas, wearing off. Clark’s in control again. He’s not seconds away from making desperate, passionate love to his best friend.
“That was close,” he says as he makes his way around the car.
“Too close,” Chloe laughs.
The rain pours over her, soaking her hair and clothes and running in driblets down her skin.
Clark watches the water stream over her shoulder, around the swell of her breasts and disappear beneath the low collar of her blouse.
He can’t help wondering what it would look like if her blouse wasn’t there. How the rain would bead and flow over her flesh. How it would drip, drip, drip from her nipples. How he would catch those drips on his tongue and then lick her dry.
The cold rainwater doesn’t seem to be dampening his desires at all. In fact it seems to be stiffening them, hardening them. It feels like his desires are about to burst out of his jeans.
He takes several deep breaths, trying to gain back his control, but that doesn’t help either. More oxygen in the blood means the blood flows faster, racing to parts of his body where the pressure is already reaching dangerous levels.
“Chloe,” he says, “we have to get out of the rain.”
Chloe stares, transfixed, at Clark’s soaked T-shirt. She’s breathing heavily too. “You’re right.”
He grabs her up in his arms and runs as fast as he can, finding an old hunting cabin closed for the season.
He bursts open the door and puts her down inside.
“We made it,” he pants, but not from exhaustion.
“Yeah,” she says as she moves away from him. “We’re safe.”
But they’re not safe, not by a long shot. They’re still in deep danger.
There’s nothing safe about the way Chloe’s wet hair curls around her face, or how her clothes hug her curves.
Clark looks around the cabin, at the old table that looks like it’s about to fall over, at the utilitarian chairs lined up against the wall, at the narrow bed in the corner, anywhere except at Chloe and her form hugging clothes.
But maybe they’re not hugging her so much. She’s had a couple seconds to dry off.
He only means to glance at her, but somehow his eyes get stuck. He can’t look away. It’s like she’s a magnate and his eyes are made of steel.
And her clothes are still hugging her. They’re hugging Chloe like she’s the love of their life. Why is he jealous of her clothes?
Goosebumps pop out all over her arms and she shivers.
“You cold?” Clark asks.
“No,” she says, but her nipples disagree. They poke against her blouse, announcing how cold they are.
Clark shouldn’t be staring at her breasts like this, but it’s not his fault. They started it.
“Chloe,” he says, “we have to get out of these clothes.”
She closes her eyes and parts her lips. “You’re right.”
(tbc)
Part Eight