SV fic: My Baby Just Cares For Me (NC-17, Chlark)
Another old Smallville fic of mine, re-posted for my SV fic-writing crush
twistedlyn.
Title/Link: My Baby Just Cares For Me (NC-17 / Chlark)
Author:
mediaville
Pairing: Clark / Chloe
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers (when applicable): None
Short summary: Chloe and Clark have different definitions of romance.
Clark’s not sure where it all went wrong. It was sometime in between the eighth grade, when Chloe kissed him for the first time, and tonight, when she completely foiled his attempt to take her on a proper date.
Earlier that day, they’d been sitting together at her desk at The Daily Planet, and not for the first time it struck him how much time they spent together, always running around sleuthing. Even though he felt like he was always with Chloe, he never felt like it was enough. Not that he didn’t enjoy the way they partnered to beat the bad guys, and uncover truth and justice and all of that. But he couldn’t deny that when the hero stuff was over, and he watched her go into her apartment in Metropolis (without him), he felt a little empty. He felt like there was a whole other dimension of togetherness that he’d like to explore with Chloe.
A dimension that included naked touching.
So there he was, musing over the fact that he, Clark Kent, had fallen head over heels for his best friend, Chloe Sullivan. And what made today different from any other day was that he’d finally done something about it. He’d asked her if she had any plans for dinner. She’d said no, and then he’d suggested they have dinner together, just the two of them. She had accepted with a grin, and his heart had jumped around in his chest like a lottery ball.
He’d sped home, washed his truck inside and out, showered, dressed, put gel in his hair and experimented with cologne, showered again, changed into a new pair of jeans and skipped the hair gel and cologne, and finally got in his sparkling and fresh-scented truck and headed over to her apartment to pick her up.
Which leaves him here, now, standing in her doorway watching her walk into the apartment, away from him.
“Come on, dufus,” she calls over her shoulder. “Food’s getting cold and I don’t want to miss Scrubs.”
Clark’s confused. He takes a step into her apartment and sees several boxes of Chinese takeout lying on the coffee table. Chloe hasn’t even noticed the hair gel and cologne that he’s not wearing. She’s in a pair of man-style pajamas and fuzzy slippers, her hair in a ponytail. She could not look any less like a girl on a date if she tried.
And yet Clark is still totally overwhelmed by the urge to kiss her breathless.
Especially when she pouts into a plastic container of egg drop soup. “I swear I’m never ordering from Yummy House again. The damned soup is always cold. It’s like they do it on purpose! Like they just scoop it right out of the fridge into the takeout container.”
Seriously? Could her mouth be any more irresistible? Or that little wrinkle above her nose? Even in her pajamas she looks like the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. He feels his cock stir in his jeans as he thinks how easy it would be to just slide his hand in between the buttons on that soft cotton pajama top and just touch her… breasts. Is she even wearing a bra? Clark has to give himself a little mental shake to get his mind out of the gutter.
He plops down on the couch next to her. “Yeah, Chlo, sounds like a conspiracy. You should do an exposé on the dastardly practices of Yummy House delivery.”
“I might,” she mutters grumpily.
Clark smiles and takes the container from her, gives it a short blast of heat vision, and hands it back to her before turning up the volume on the TV. Sure, he’d been planning on taking her out for dinner, but Scrubs is a pretty good show. Plus, he’s pretty tall, so he may eventually get a peep down the neck of that pajama top, depending on how he positions himself on the couch.
He totally misses the dreamy look Chloe has on her face when she takes the soup back from him.
“My hero,” she sighs, and he rolls his eyes.
So he guesses the next time he asks her on a date, he’ll have to be more explicit about his intentions. He’ll have to romance her a bit. He grins to himself as he reaches for the Young Chow fried rice.
Get ready to be swept off your fuzzy-slippered little feet, Chlo.
*
The next day is Saturday, which makes Clark happy, because Saturday night is totally a date night, and he’s got a foolproof plan. He calls Chloe and tells her about some files on his computer that he needs her to look at, just to make sure she’s going to be home. Then he goes through the whole shower-dress-re-dress thing again, only this time, he stops and picks up a huge bouquet of red roses before heading over to Chloe’s. He’s going to just sweep in there and knock her socks off, and ask her on a real date for tonight.
When he gets to her place and knocks, there’s no answer. He knocks again, and this time he hears Chloe yelling for him to come in. She’s in the shower; she’ll only be a few more minutes.
He stands there, awkwardly holding the bunch of roses, for more than a few minutes. He peers at the flowers. They look a little wilted. He figures he should put them in some water. He doesn’t want them to die before he gives them to her. A bouquet of dead roses would be the opposite of romantic, and Clark is all about the romance today. He can’t find a vase, but he finds a big glass bowl, which he fills with water and then kind of lays the roses down in it. It makes them look not quite so impressive, because they’re kind of lying down now, but at least they won’t be dead.
“Hey, sorry about that,” she’s toweling her hair as she walks into the living room. She’s got no makeup on, just jeans and a white button-down oxford, and bare feet. The bare feet are what do him in. Clark just stands there with a stupid smile on his face.
“So let’s have a look at those files, shall we?”
She’s looking at him quizzically, and Clark’s totally lost. How can any woman be this cute right out of the shower? And oh, shower. That means she was just. Naked.
“Clark? Did you bring the files?”
Files? He’s totally confused. Oh right. The ‘files’. Dazedly, he pulls a flash drive from his shirt pocket and hands it to her. She immediately goes to her computer and starts fiddling with it.
Crap. He didn’t come because of any files. He came to give her the flowers and ask her on a date. There are no files on that flash drive. He’s not even sure why he brought it. She didn’t even notice the roses. He starts feeling like his efforts to romance her are backfiring.
“This can’t be right,” she’s muttering to herself. “There aren’t any files on this flash drive, but… Oh my god!” she jumps out of her chair and runs over to Clark.
Now he’s really lost. “Oh my god, what?”
“Clark, do you realize what you’ve got?” She’s holding up the flash drive to his face.
No skillz? he thinks to himself. He shrugs at her helplessly.
“This is a 64GB flash drive!” Her eyes are wide in amazement, her face is flushed, and she looks, god, gorgeous. She actually looks almost… aroused. “Do you know how much stuff I could download with this?” She starts pacing the apartment excitedly. “Where did you even get it?”
Clark thinks. “I got it from Oliver, I think.”
“Figures,” she sighs. “Oliver’s got the coolest toys.”
While Chloe is daydreaming about high-capacity storage, Clark decides he’s got to take control of this interaction. He will not be deterred on his quest for romance.
So he says, “Chloe, I think we should go on a date. Can I take you out to dinner tonight?”
And yeah, it’s kind of rushed and nervous-sounding, but she totally doesn’t notice, because at the exact time that he’s asked her on a date, she was talking too. She was asking him a question, he guesses, because she looks like she’s waiting for an answer.
“What did you say?” they both say at the same time.
“You first,” he offers. After all, he is a gentleman. A romantic gentleman.
“I asked, very sweetly I might add, if I could have this flash drive?” She bats her eyelashes and looks all kissable. “I’ll be your best friend?”
Clark grins. “Chlo, you already are my best friend.”
“Well in that case, you should just give it to me,” she wheedles.
“Well in that case,” he pauses. “Okay.”
She squeals and throws her arms around his neck and for a heart-stopping moment Clark thinks she’s going to kiss him. Instead she hugs him and then pulls back and looks thoughtful.
“So what did you say?”
Oh. Right. Now or never.
“I, um. I said that we. You and I. Should. Go out to dinner sometime. Tonight actually.” He looks at her hopefully, his heart pounding in his chest. He thinks about following it up with I’ll be your best friend? like she did, but considering the fact that he wants to fuck her like an animal, he decides against it.
“Tonight?” Her face quirks into the most adorably confused smile. “It’s Saturday night,” she clarifies.
“Well in that case, we should go out to a really nice dinner. I made reservations at Anton’s.” Oh yeah. That part came out smooth.
Chloe smiles and Clark’s heart just jumps into his throat.
“Well in that case,” she pauses. “Okay.”
He leaves her apartment with a huge smile on his face. It’s not until he’s back home that he realizes he never gave her the roses.
*
So when he comes to pick her up this time, she definitely looks like a girl on a date. When she comes to the door, she takes Clark’s breath away. She’s in a jade green dress with a tiny black sweater around her shoulders and strappy little high heeled sandals on her feet. Her hair is all twisted up in the back, with soft pieces falling forward on her face, and her face just looks so. Perfect.
Momentarily, he considers blowing off the restaurant and just backing her into the apartment and attacking her. He wants to taste her everywhere.
“Hi, you,” she breathes, and he just nods in agreement, dumbstruck.
They go outside, and that’s when he remembers about the romance. The romance is key to the naked parts. He can’t just jump her bones. He wants it to be good for her. He wants her to want him like he wants her. So yeah, romance. He walks ahead of her to the truck and opens the passenger door for her.
“You’re kidding?” she asks in disbelief, as he stands by the open door.
Clark grins at her. “Not kidding, Chlo.” That’s right, baby. Who treats you right? “Your chariot awaits. Come on, hop in.”
She runs around to the driver-side door, flings it open, and jumps in. “I can’t believe you’re letting me drive your brand new truck!”
Clark stiffens, and peers into the truck in shock.
“Hey Lurch, how do I adjust the seat?”
*
It’s almost funny, how ridiculous it is when the same thing happens at the restaurant. When they get to their table, Clark pulls out a chair for Chloe, and she goes and sits in the opposite chair. He just stands there with his mouth open for a second, until she looks up at him and asks, “Aren’t you going to sit down?”
Dinner is fun, but definitely not romantic. At one point, he makes a joke and she laughs while she drinks, and ends up snorting sparkling water out of her nose. It sounds painful, but she just giggles through it. Clark can’t help but laugh along with her.
And when he orders dessert, he gets this melty chocolate thing that seems really romantic, except he ends up with a gooey brown stain on his dress shirt. He’s embarrassed, but only for a second, until she calls him sweet and laughs, loud and long.
He’s trying to figure out ways to be more romantic, or work in the fact that she looks so beautiful tonight into a pause in their conversation, but there just are. No. Pauses. It’s so them - just babbling the hours away. Clark’s so relaxed he starts to forget that he’s on a date at all.
Finally Chloe excuses herself to go to the restroom, and Clark has a moment to regroup his thoughts. He looks around the restaurant, which was a good choice, he thinks, because it’s definitely very romantic. There are candles and a dance floor and everything. He notices an elderly couple dancing, and suddenly Clark can’t help imagining him and Chloe being together when they’re old. He thinks they could have that kind of romance. The kind that lasts for a lifetime. There’s a band playing, and he decides to wait for a nice slow song and ask Chloe to dance.
She comes back to the table with her lip gloss refreshed and she looks even more beautiful than she did at the start of the evening. She grins at him shyly, and just at that moment the band breaks into a Norah Jones cover. It’s perfect.
They pass the elderly couple as they step onto the dance floor, and just as Clark starts to wrap his arms around Chloe, she kind of yelps and jerks against him.
“You okay?” Clark asks softly. Chloe turns away from him, her eyes wide as saucers, and grins at the old couple that Clark had noticed earlier.
“He just,” she starts, nodding in the direction of the man.
“I pinched your patootie,” the old guy crows, and winks exaggeratedly at Chloe. He looks up at Clark and continues. “You’ll have to forgive this old man, son. It’s been awhile since I’ve tasted a tomato as ripe as this one,” he indicates Chloe. “Mind if I take her for a spin?”
Chloe giggles and Clark is struck dumb. He looks at the old lady, who’s still hanging on the old man’s arm.
“What about your wife?”
“Hallelujah!” the old lady cries, lunging for Clark. She’s literally only about four feet tall, and when she wraps her arms around his waist, she lets them settle on his ass. “I may not be a spring chicken,” she croons, rubbing her face against his abs, “but I can take my teeth out.” She looks up at him and waggles her eyebrows. “Think about it, stud,” she croaks. “Nothin’ but gums.”
Clark looks around horrified and confused as Gums drags him onto the dance floor, and sees Chloe twirling around with freakin’ George Burns, her head thrown back in laughter. She looks, man, so beautiful. Even more so when she’s having fun, which she clearly is as she keeps batting the guys wandering hands away from her butt.
How come George Burns gets to touch Chloe’s butt and not him? Things couldn’t possibly be going any more wrong.
That’s when Gums looks up at him and says, “I know what you’re thinking, son.”
He looks down dubiously. “You do?”
She nods. “You’re thinking about how you’d rather have that kitten in your arms, ‘stead of this ol’ cougar.”
Clark almost feels bad for the old lady. It’s possible that she was attractive in her day. He starts to argue, but then she says-
“Don’t jump to conclusions, though, beefcake.” She winks at him and gives his ass a firm squeeze. “I may have lost some muscle control down front, but I’ll let you park that hog o’ yours in the back.”
Clark scrambles out of her grip, nearly dropping her to the floor. “That’s. God. That’s definitely not going to be necessary. Um. Ma’am.”
He stalks over to George and taps him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sir, but the tomato and I have to be going now.”
Chloe kind of curtsies, which is totally cute, and Clark feels another tug at his heart. As Clark leads her towards the exit of the restaurant, he sees George make a telephone shape out of his fingers and mouth the words call me to Chloe. He shudders.
“Gross!” Chloe whispers. “Did you see that old woman? She just waved her dentures at you.”
Clark stiffens and says, “Okay, so maybe this place wasn’t such a good idea.”
“Oh come on, Clark,” she shoves him in the shoulder good-naturedly. “That was pretty hilarious. I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard in weeks.”
He doesn’t even look up as he grumbles to himself. “Just the mood I was going for,” he mutters as he opens the driver-side door for her this time.
She hands him the keys and walks around to the passenger side and climbs in. He can’t win.
*
As soon as he pulls up in front of her apartment building, Clark turns off the ignition of the truck and superspeeds around to her door, determined to hold at least one door open for her tonight.
He helps her out of the truck gently, his breath catching in his throat when she stumbles and steadies herself by clinging to his shoulders. A zing of arousal stabs him in the gut as his hands fly to her waist. He sets her right on her feet, and walks her to the door of her apartment.
“So… tonight was… actually kind of… fun,” he says, and is surprised that it’s the truth. Despite the pervy old freaks, and everything else that went wrong, he had a genuinely good time.
“Yeah,” she replies softly. “Weird fun. But then again, when is it not fun when we’re together? Or weird, for that matter?” She’s looking up at him, her eyes open wide and sparkling, and in his head, he’s gearing up for a good night kiss.
“Yeah, I guess we’re two just weird, funny people,” he murmurs, and reaches out to touch the small of her back as she’s opening the door to her apartment.
In his mind, he kisses her at the door to her apartment, and it’s soft and sweet, maybe a little tentative at first. But then the kiss deepens, becomes hot and urgent, and when they push open the door, they’re clawing at each other’s clothes and grinding against one another. By the time they cross the threshold, they’re rounding third base.
In reality, she’s frozen at her front door, sniffing the air.
“Do you smell that?”
*
He almost had to laugh. It turns out that (a) Chloe hadn’t seen the roses before they left for dinner, (b) her apartment was now filled with the pungent aroma of fresh roses, and (c) Chloe was allergic to roses. Or something. Something that involved the smell of roses making her nauseous.
After they’d entered the apartment, and she’d spotted the huge bunch of red roses lying in the glass bowl in her sink, she’d run straight into the bathroom, hand clamped over her mouth, and yelled out to him, “Oh my god! Clark, get rid of them, get rid of them please!”
“Get rid of… these roses?” Perfect. “But, they’re so…” Expensive, he thinks. “Beautiful,” he says.
“Beautiful?” Her voice is high-pitched from behind the bathroom door, and he thinks he hears her retch. “They’re weapons, Clark. They stink and they make you bleed with those god damned evil thorns…”
Clark sighs as he takes the dripping roses to the fire escape and incinerates them with his heat vision before closing the window to keep the smell out.
“Are they gone?” Chloe whimpers through the closed bathroom door.
“They’re gone.”
The door opens tentatively, and Chloe emerges looking a little rumpled and kind of panicked.
“What did you do with them?”
He rolls his eyes. “I burnt them up on the fire escape. The ashes have probably blown away by now.”
“With your heat vision,” she murmurs, and he doesn’t respond because, yeah - of course.
What girl doesn’t like roses?
Just the one girl who he’s in love with. Great. He’s never ever going to get her naked.
“Clark, I was thinking, maybe you could stay over tonight?”
It’s official, Clark thinks to himself. When it comes to women, I have absolutely no clue what’s going on.
“Stay over?” His voice cracks a bit with excitement.
Chloe slips out of her sandals and lets her hair down as she crosses the room to him. Oh, it’s on. “Yeah, I’ll stay over, Chlo.”
Chloe immediately looks relieved. “Thanks,” she breathes. Then, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna get comfortable.”
Clark’s counting his lucky stars. Did she honestly just use the, wait here while I slip into something a little more comfortable line? He’s seen lots of movies that have gotten really interesting after the girl says that. He imagines Chloe coming out of the bedroom in a sheer nightgown, or - oh my God - or an unbuttoned men’s shirt with nothing underneath. Oh and yeah, he’d be able to see her nipples, all hard, peeking out from underneath the shirt. Yeah. Extra points if it’s one of his shirts that she’s somehow obtained and has been sleeping in every night.
He sucks in a breath loudly as blood rushes to his cock. Yup, he’s hard, and since he’s wearing his nice dress pants, there’s no hiding it, because they’re kind of loose, and now they’re absolutely tented. This is embarrassing. They haven’t even kissed yet and he’s got a boner that can be spotted three blocks away. He tries adjusting it in his pants, but all he manages to do is push it from the right side of his zipper to the left side. He decides to sit down and pull a throw pillow onto his lap. That’ll work.
When Chloe comes out of the bedroom, he’s once again mystified. She’s in the same old pajamas she had been wearing the other night when they ate Chinese together. Hair back up in a ponytail again. No fuzzy slippers this time.
But no sheer nightgown either.
It’s kind of weird, but Clark’s still really turned on. She plops down next to him on the couch, tucking her legs under her bottom and sighs worriedly.
“I just, I feel so much better that you’re here.” She bites her lip. “I can’t believe that I have… that I’ve got…”
Not one nipple showing? Clark supplies in his head.
“… a stalker,” she finishes.
“A stalker?”
“Yeah, Clark. Someone obviously snuck in here while we were out and left those roses for me. Probably even knew they’d make me sick.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “I know Lana’s had stalkers before. I just never thought it’d happen to me.”
“Chloe, you don’t have a stalker,” he exhales with a half chuckle. She immediately glares at him.
“I do so have a stalker.”
“Chloe,” he starts. He needs to just tell her that the roses were from him, not because he was trying to make her sick, but because he was trying to make her… horny? He pauses as he tries to come up with a better explanation.
“Clark,” she says sharply. “Why wouldn’t I have a stalker?” Clark senses, once again, that the night is not going the way he wants it to. “I mean, is it so unbelievable that I might have a stalker? That someone might… I don’t know… be crazy obsessed with me?”
It’s really not unbelievable at all. But it’s still not exactly what happened. He doesn’t want Chloe to feel afraid.
“Chlo,” he soothes. “It’s not that you wouldn’t have stalker; it’s that, tonight, now, you don’t have a stalker.”
“I can’t believe I thought…” She crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes. “You really don’t find me attractive at all, do you?” Her tone is accusatory. Her words are just plain… incorrect.
“W-what?”
“I’m that unattractive, aren’t I? I’m just not pretty enough to have stalker, right? You can’t even imagine me having a stalker.” She’s pouting and looks almost as if she might cry and making Chloe cry was absolutely not part of his brilliant seduction.
He grabs her face in his big hands and he looks her in the eyes. “Chloe. Listen to me. You are gorgeous. Even in those god-awful pajamas, I just wanna…” Whoa, where is he going with that? “Fuck,” he mutters, and then squares himself again. “You are definitely pretty enough to have a stalker. You probably have multiple stalkers, that’s how pretty you are.”
She’s momentarily stunned, but then she sniffs and says, “You mean it? You think I could have a stalker?”
Clark leans closer to her and god damn he wants to just jump on top of her, but he knows he needs to take it slow with Chloe, and so he just leans his forehead against hers and smiles and says, “You definitely have a stalker. A big one.”
His face is thisclose to hers and Clark can’t stop his eyes from dropping down to her mouth when she says, “A big one?” She sounds all breathless and again, almost aroused. He knows he needs to go slow, but he can’t help letting one of his hands slide around to cup the back of her neck.
Christ, he’s so turned on right now and it’s totally obvious when he says, “Yeah,” and it comes out all low and growly. He has to kiss her. He just has to. For the hundredth time he reminds himself to take it slow and gentle. Just one kiss. No tongue. And probably better if he warns her.
“Chloe, m’gonna k-”
Before he gets the words out, her mouth is crashing over his and she’s kissing him hard and oh God oh God she’s pulling him down on top of her and thank god the pillow kind of moves with him and now it’s in between them, which is kind of awkward, but then again, hello? Boner also kind of awkward.
But all of a sudden she’s yanking the pillow out from in between them. And, holy Jesus she’s unbuckling his belt! And she’s… she’s… talking?
“Did you mean it, Clark?”
He feels his zipper being lowered and his brains just fly right out the window. She’s going to. Oh God. She’s going to touch his dick.
“W-wh? Uh?”
“Tell me you meant it, Clark.” She’s stroking him and Jesus Jesus biting his neck and he has no idea what she’s talking about.
“I meant it,” he gasps, as she rubs her thumb over the head of his cock. “About the, oh Christ, the stalker?” He’s jerking hard against her and not sure where to put his hands because he’s not sure what base they’re on and he doesn’t want to do anything that might result in her stopping. “You are totally stalker material. You’re like… uh! J Lo in that movie we saw where… ohmyGod… she’s a Mexican pop star or whatever.”
“No, the other thing you said,” she whispers hot in his ear.
Clark’s frantically trying to replay anything he’s ever said to Chloe in his life, when he decides that whatever he said, he meant it. “Yeah, Chlo. Oh yeah. I meant it all.”
He can feel her smile against his neck but thankfully she doesn’t stop rubbing his cock. Clark never thought he’d get a hand job tonight. It’s too good.
“You said,” she drags out the words, slow and low against his ear. “You said ‘even in these god-awful pajamas, you just wanna fuck.’”
Clark’s eyes shoot open wide - and yeah, he’s pretty sure that’s not what he said, or at least, not what he meant, but he’s certainly not going to correct her this time. Because despite what he said or didn’t say, he sure does wanna fuck.
Which is why he’s whimpering as she pushes him off of her, until he realizes she just needs some room to get undressed. She’s unbuttoning the pajama top and, okay, there’s the answer to that question, no bra. And Jesus. Fucking fantastic breasts.
Clark lunges down against her, eager to take one of those perfect little nipples into his mouth, but she shoves him back again.
“Oh, s-sorry,” he sputters. Damn. He keeps forgetting to go slow. Sure, she was moving pretty quickly before, but she must want him to slow down now because she’s… Oh holy Mary mother of God. She’s taking off her pajama bottoms.
She’s thrusting her hips up against his, and wiggling out of the soft cotton drawstring pants and, oh yeah, her panties too. She’s. Totally. Naked.
“Chloe, oh my God,” he blubbers. “You’re so… oh God. You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe…”
“I can’t believe you’re still fully clothed,” she interrupts, and yeah, good point.
He unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off his shoulders, but in his haste, he forgets to unbutton the cuffs, so when he curls up to shove down his pants and boxers, he rips the shirt clean in half down the back. The pieces just hang from his wrists when he pounces on her.
And when they’re pressed together, skin to skin, nothing in between them, it’s so fucking good. Chloe’s bucking her hips up against his, rubbing her sex against his aching cock and it’s, God, better than anything he’d imagined. She’s kissing him savagely, and then she pushes him up so that he’s sitting up, and before he can protest she climbs onto his lap and straddles him, and whoa, does she have superspeed? Because she’s got a condom in her hands that she pulled out of freakin’ nowhere. This is crazy. He was hoping for a kiss and now he’s about to get laid.
He must look like he’s nervous or something, because Chloe stops before opening the condom wrapper and looks him in the eye. “Clark, we don’t have to do this. We can just fool around if you want. I don’t want to push you. If you’re not ready, I mean. Although, to be perfectly clear, I am absolutely ready.”
For the millionth time in the past two days, Clark is struck dumb. He just stares at her in amazement for a long minute. Finally, he snatches the condom from her hand and tears the wrapper with his teeth.
“Chloe,” he growls as he strokes the condom onto his erection. “Quit talking to me like I’m a sixteen year old girl. Now come on and fuck me.”
She squeals and literally hops onto his cock, sinking down onto him slowly. He pushes inside of her and God it’s everything, everything he’d ever wanted. She’s so hot and slick and oh, tight. He knows he won’t last long.
Chloe’s bouncing on his lap and he doesn’t know whether to kiss her or stare at her or touch her and so he just tries a rapid succession of all three. It seems to work for her, because she’s clutching him by the neck, digging her fingernails into his scalp, and she sounds like she’s having a good time.
She starts levering herself up and down on his lap, and it’s just crazy and she’s so wild and he’s barely doing anything but suddenly he feels her muscles clenching around him and good god damn that feels amazing. She’s coming and riding him and he can’t do anything but just take it, because he doesn’t know what he did to get them here, naked on the couch, but it sure as hell wasn’t his attempt at romance.
And speaking of romantic, when he feels Chloe’s hands reach around underneath her, past the base of his cock to massage his balls, he cries out, “Oh Chloe I love you!” and comes hard inside of her.
He blushes as he feels her sniggering against his chest, her breath hot against his skin, but then he figures, hey, she’s the one with his nuts in her hand. He’s not going to be embarrassed about expressing his feelings. It’s already been thoroughly established that he’s the girl in this relationship.
“I kind of got the feeling that maybe you did,” she breathes, and slumps against him.
Clark grins and pushes her hair out of her eyes. She looks gorgeous and flushed and totally fucked out and he definitely loves her.
She shifts a bit on his lap, and he’s still inside her and pretty sensitive, so it makes him shake a bit.
“Ah! God, Chloe. What gave me away?”
She smiles her wide Chloe smile. “Well I wasn’t sure, at first, because you were acting kind of weird. But then when you gave me that flash drive…” her voice trails off for a moment, like she’s reliving something amazing. “God, Clark, I almost kissed you right there.”
“When I gave you the flash drive?” You’ve got to be shitting me, he thinks.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t play all innocent. You knew that would drive me wild. And then you were so flirty - letting me drive your truck and everything.” She sighed again. “That was so fucking sexy.”
“It was?”
“You know it was.”
Clark just goes with it.
“And then, oh mmm. The heat vision.”
He huffs out a short laugh. “The heat vision?”
“Ohhhh yeah.” She’s positively purring now, and Clark feels his cock twitch inside her. “First with the soup, and then,” she’s sucking little kisses onto his throat and man, that feels good. “Then with the evil roses… Oh! And when you got out of the truck and used your superspeed!”
Huh. So basically, take everything Clark thought he knew about seducing Chloe and just throw it out the window with the fried roses. It seemed the stuff that really turned her on was just… regular Clark stuff.
He’s definitely getting hard again, and she seems to be okay with that because she’s starting to move her hips in just the right way.
“You know exactly how to push my buttons, don’t you, Clark?”
Clark smiles and kisses her. “Yeah,” he shrugs. “I guess I do.”
twistedlyn.
Title/Link: My Baby Just Cares For Me (NC-17 / Chlark)
Author:
mediaville
Pairing: Clark / Chloe
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers (when applicable): None
Short summary: Chloe and Clark have different definitions of romance.
Clark’s not sure where it all went wrong. It was sometime in between the eighth grade, when Chloe kissed him for the first time, and tonight, when she completely foiled his attempt to take her on a proper date.
Earlier that day, they’d been sitting together at her desk at The Daily Planet, and not for the first time it struck him how much time they spent together, always running around sleuthing. Even though he felt like he was always with Chloe, he never felt like it was enough. Not that he didn’t enjoy the way they partnered to beat the bad guys, and uncover truth and justice and all of that. But he couldn’t deny that when the hero stuff was over, and he watched her go into her apartment in Metropolis (without him), he felt a little empty. He felt like there was a whole other dimension of togetherness that he’d like to explore with Chloe.
A dimension that included naked touching.
So there he was, musing over the fact that he, Clark Kent, had fallen head over heels for his best friend, Chloe Sullivan. And what made today different from any other day was that he’d finally done something about it. He’d asked her if she had any plans for dinner. She’d said no, and then he’d suggested they have dinner together, just the two of them. She had accepted with a grin, and his heart had jumped around in his chest like a lottery ball.
He’d sped home, washed his truck inside and out, showered, dressed, put gel in his hair and experimented with cologne, showered again, changed into a new pair of jeans and skipped the hair gel and cologne, and finally got in his sparkling and fresh-scented truck and headed over to her apartment to pick her up.
Which leaves him here, now, standing in her doorway watching her walk into the apartment, away from him.
“Come on, dufus,” she calls over her shoulder. “Food’s getting cold and I don’t want to miss Scrubs.”
Clark’s confused. He takes a step into her apartment and sees several boxes of Chinese takeout lying on the coffee table. Chloe hasn’t even noticed the hair gel and cologne that he’s not wearing. She’s in a pair of man-style pajamas and fuzzy slippers, her hair in a ponytail. She could not look any less like a girl on a date if she tried.
And yet Clark is still totally overwhelmed by the urge to kiss her breathless.
Especially when she pouts into a plastic container of egg drop soup. “I swear I’m never ordering from Yummy House again. The damned soup is always cold. It’s like they do it on purpose! Like they just scoop it right out of the fridge into the takeout container.”
Seriously? Could her mouth be any more irresistible? Or that little wrinkle above her nose? Even in her pajamas she looks like the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. He feels his cock stir in his jeans as he thinks how easy it would be to just slide his hand in between the buttons on that soft cotton pajama top and just touch her… breasts. Is she even wearing a bra? Clark has to give himself a little mental shake to get his mind out of the gutter.
He plops down on the couch next to her. “Yeah, Chlo, sounds like a conspiracy. You should do an exposé on the dastardly practices of Yummy House delivery.”
“I might,” she mutters grumpily.
Clark smiles and takes the container from her, gives it a short blast of heat vision, and hands it back to her before turning up the volume on the TV. Sure, he’d been planning on taking her out for dinner, but Scrubs is a pretty good show. Plus, he’s pretty tall, so he may eventually get a peep down the neck of that pajama top, depending on how he positions himself on the couch.
He totally misses the dreamy look Chloe has on her face when she takes the soup back from him.
“My hero,” she sighs, and he rolls his eyes.
So he guesses the next time he asks her on a date, he’ll have to be more explicit about his intentions. He’ll have to romance her a bit. He grins to himself as he reaches for the Young Chow fried rice.
Get ready to be swept off your fuzzy-slippered little feet, Chlo.
*
The next day is Saturday, which makes Clark happy, because Saturday night is totally a date night, and he’s got a foolproof plan. He calls Chloe and tells her about some files on his computer that he needs her to look at, just to make sure she’s going to be home. Then he goes through the whole shower-dress-re-dress thing again, only this time, he stops and picks up a huge bouquet of red roses before heading over to Chloe’s. He’s going to just sweep in there and knock her socks off, and ask her on a real date for tonight.
When he gets to her place and knocks, there’s no answer. He knocks again, and this time he hears Chloe yelling for him to come in. She’s in the shower; she’ll only be a few more minutes.
He stands there, awkwardly holding the bunch of roses, for more than a few minutes. He peers at the flowers. They look a little wilted. He figures he should put them in some water. He doesn’t want them to die before he gives them to her. A bouquet of dead roses would be the opposite of romantic, and Clark is all about the romance today. He can’t find a vase, but he finds a big glass bowl, which he fills with water and then kind of lays the roses down in it. It makes them look not quite so impressive, because they’re kind of lying down now, but at least they won’t be dead.
“Hey, sorry about that,” she’s toweling her hair as she walks into the living room. She’s got no makeup on, just jeans and a white button-down oxford, and bare feet. The bare feet are what do him in. Clark just stands there with a stupid smile on his face.
“So let’s have a look at those files, shall we?”
She’s looking at him quizzically, and Clark’s totally lost. How can any woman be this cute right out of the shower? And oh, shower. That means she was just. Naked.
“Clark? Did you bring the files?”
Files? He’s totally confused. Oh right. The ‘files’. Dazedly, he pulls a flash drive from his shirt pocket and hands it to her. She immediately goes to her computer and starts fiddling with it.
Crap. He didn’t come because of any files. He came to give her the flowers and ask her on a date. There are no files on that flash drive. He’s not even sure why he brought it. She didn’t even notice the roses. He starts feeling like his efforts to romance her are backfiring.
“This can’t be right,” she’s muttering to herself. “There aren’t any files on this flash drive, but… Oh my god!” she jumps out of her chair and runs over to Clark.
Now he’s really lost. “Oh my god, what?”
“Clark, do you realize what you’ve got?” She’s holding up the flash drive to his face.
No skillz? he thinks to himself. He shrugs at her helplessly.
“This is a 64GB flash drive!” Her eyes are wide in amazement, her face is flushed, and she looks, god, gorgeous. She actually looks almost… aroused. “Do you know how much stuff I could download with this?” She starts pacing the apartment excitedly. “Where did you even get it?”
Clark thinks. “I got it from Oliver, I think.”
“Figures,” she sighs. “Oliver’s got the coolest toys.”
While Chloe is daydreaming about high-capacity storage, Clark decides he’s got to take control of this interaction. He will not be deterred on his quest for romance.
So he says, “Chloe, I think we should go on a date. Can I take you out to dinner tonight?”
And yeah, it’s kind of rushed and nervous-sounding, but she totally doesn’t notice, because at the exact time that he’s asked her on a date, she was talking too. She was asking him a question, he guesses, because she looks like she’s waiting for an answer.
“What did you say?” they both say at the same time.
“You first,” he offers. After all, he is a gentleman. A romantic gentleman.
“I asked, very sweetly I might add, if I could have this flash drive?” She bats her eyelashes and looks all kissable. “I’ll be your best friend?”
Clark grins. “Chlo, you already are my best friend.”
“Well in that case, you should just give it to me,” she wheedles.
“Well in that case,” he pauses. “Okay.”
She squeals and throws her arms around his neck and for a heart-stopping moment Clark thinks she’s going to kiss him. Instead she hugs him and then pulls back and looks thoughtful.
“So what did you say?”
Oh. Right. Now or never.
“I, um. I said that we. You and I. Should. Go out to dinner sometime. Tonight actually.” He looks at her hopefully, his heart pounding in his chest. He thinks about following it up with I’ll be your best friend? like she did, but considering the fact that he wants to fuck her like an animal, he decides against it.
“Tonight?” Her face quirks into the most adorably confused smile. “It’s Saturday night,” she clarifies.
“Well in that case, we should go out to a really nice dinner. I made reservations at Anton’s.” Oh yeah. That part came out smooth.
Chloe smiles and Clark’s heart just jumps into his throat.
“Well in that case,” she pauses. “Okay.”
He leaves her apartment with a huge smile on his face. It’s not until he’s back home that he realizes he never gave her the roses.
*
So when he comes to pick her up this time, she definitely looks like a girl on a date. When she comes to the door, she takes Clark’s breath away. She’s in a jade green dress with a tiny black sweater around her shoulders and strappy little high heeled sandals on her feet. Her hair is all twisted up in the back, with soft pieces falling forward on her face, and her face just looks so. Perfect.
Momentarily, he considers blowing off the restaurant and just backing her into the apartment and attacking her. He wants to taste her everywhere.
“Hi, you,” she breathes, and he just nods in agreement, dumbstruck.
They go outside, and that’s when he remembers about the romance. The romance is key to the naked parts. He can’t just jump her bones. He wants it to be good for her. He wants her to want him like he wants her. So yeah, romance. He walks ahead of her to the truck and opens the passenger door for her.
“You’re kidding?” she asks in disbelief, as he stands by the open door.
Clark grins at her. “Not kidding, Chlo.” That’s right, baby. Who treats you right? “Your chariot awaits. Come on, hop in.”
She runs around to the driver-side door, flings it open, and jumps in. “I can’t believe you’re letting me drive your brand new truck!”
Clark stiffens, and peers into the truck in shock.
“Hey Lurch, how do I adjust the seat?”
*
It’s almost funny, how ridiculous it is when the same thing happens at the restaurant. When they get to their table, Clark pulls out a chair for Chloe, and she goes and sits in the opposite chair. He just stands there with his mouth open for a second, until she looks up at him and asks, “Aren’t you going to sit down?”
Dinner is fun, but definitely not romantic. At one point, he makes a joke and she laughs while she drinks, and ends up snorting sparkling water out of her nose. It sounds painful, but she just giggles through it. Clark can’t help but laugh along with her.
And when he orders dessert, he gets this melty chocolate thing that seems really romantic, except he ends up with a gooey brown stain on his dress shirt. He’s embarrassed, but only for a second, until she calls him sweet and laughs, loud and long.
He’s trying to figure out ways to be more romantic, or work in the fact that she looks so beautiful tonight into a pause in their conversation, but there just are. No. Pauses. It’s so them - just babbling the hours away. Clark’s so relaxed he starts to forget that he’s on a date at all.
Finally Chloe excuses herself to go to the restroom, and Clark has a moment to regroup his thoughts. He looks around the restaurant, which was a good choice, he thinks, because it’s definitely very romantic. There are candles and a dance floor and everything. He notices an elderly couple dancing, and suddenly Clark can’t help imagining him and Chloe being together when they’re old. He thinks they could have that kind of romance. The kind that lasts for a lifetime. There’s a band playing, and he decides to wait for a nice slow song and ask Chloe to dance.
She comes back to the table with her lip gloss refreshed and she looks even more beautiful than she did at the start of the evening. She grins at him shyly, and just at that moment the band breaks into a Norah Jones cover. It’s perfect.
They pass the elderly couple as they step onto the dance floor, and just as Clark starts to wrap his arms around Chloe, she kind of yelps and jerks against him.
“You okay?” Clark asks softly. Chloe turns away from him, her eyes wide as saucers, and grins at the old couple that Clark had noticed earlier.
“He just,” she starts, nodding in the direction of the man.
“I pinched your patootie,” the old guy crows, and winks exaggeratedly at Chloe. He looks up at Clark and continues. “You’ll have to forgive this old man, son. It’s been awhile since I’ve tasted a tomato as ripe as this one,” he indicates Chloe. “Mind if I take her for a spin?”
Chloe giggles and Clark is struck dumb. He looks at the old lady, who’s still hanging on the old man’s arm.
“What about your wife?”
“Hallelujah!” the old lady cries, lunging for Clark. She’s literally only about four feet tall, and when she wraps her arms around his waist, she lets them settle on his ass. “I may not be a spring chicken,” she croons, rubbing her face against his abs, “but I can take my teeth out.” She looks up at him and waggles her eyebrows. “Think about it, stud,” she croaks. “Nothin’ but gums.”
Clark looks around horrified and confused as Gums drags him onto the dance floor, and sees Chloe twirling around with freakin’ George Burns, her head thrown back in laughter. She looks, man, so beautiful. Even more so when she’s having fun, which she clearly is as she keeps batting the guys wandering hands away from her butt.
How come George Burns gets to touch Chloe’s butt and not him? Things couldn’t possibly be going any more wrong.
That’s when Gums looks up at him and says, “I know what you’re thinking, son.”
He looks down dubiously. “You do?”
She nods. “You’re thinking about how you’d rather have that kitten in your arms, ‘stead of this ol’ cougar.”
Clark almost feels bad for the old lady. It’s possible that she was attractive in her day. He starts to argue, but then she says-
“Don’t jump to conclusions, though, beefcake.” She winks at him and gives his ass a firm squeeze. “I may have lost some muscle control down front, but I’ll let you park that hog o’ yours in the back.”
Clark scrambles out of her grip, nearly dropping her to the floor. “That’s. God. That’s definitely not going to be necessary. Um. Ma’am.”
He stalks over to George and taps him on the shoulder. “Excuse me, sir, but the tomato and I have to be going now.”
Chloe kind of curtsies, which is totally cute, and Clark feels another tug at his heart. As Clark leads her towards the exit of the restaurant, he sees George make a telephone shape out of his fingers and mouth the words call me to Chloe. He shudders.
“Gross!” Chloe whispers. “Did you see that old woman? She just waved her dentures at you.”
Clark stiffens and says, “Okay, so maybe this place wasn’t such a good idea.”
“Oh come on, Clark,” she shoves him in the shoulder good-naturedly. “That was pretty hilarious. I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard in weeks.”
He doesn’t even look up as he grumbles to himself. “Just the mood I was going for,” he mutters as he opens the driver-side door for her this time.
She hands him the keys and walks around to the passenger side and climbs in. He can’t win.
*
As soon as he pulls up in front of her apartment building, Clark turns off the ignition of the truck and superspeeds around to her door, determined to hold at least one door open for her tonight.
He helps her out of the truck gently, his breath catching in his throat when she stumbles and steadies herself by clinging to his shoulders. A zing of arousal stabs him in the gut as his hands fly to her waist. He sets her right on her feet, and walks her to the door of her apartment.
“So… tonight was… actually kind of… fun,” he says, and is surprised that it’s the truth. Despite the pervy old freaks, and everything else that went wrong, he had a genuinely good time.
“Yeah,” she replies softly. “Weird fun. But then again, when is it not fun when we’re together? Or weird, for that matter?” She’s looking up at him, her eyes open wide and sparkling, and in his head, he’s gearing up for a good night kiss.
“Yeah, I guess we’re two just weird, funny people,” he murmurs, and reaches out to touch the small of her back as she’s opening the door to her apartment.
In his mind, he kisses her at the door to her apartment, and it’s soft and sweet, maybe a little tentative at first. But then the kiss deepens, becomes hot and urgent, and when they push open the door, they’re clawing at each other’s clothes and grinding against one another. By the time they cross the threshold, they’re rounding third base.
In reality, she’s frozen at her front door, sniffing the air.
“Do you smell that?”
*
He almost had to laugh. It turns out that (a) Chloe hadn’t seen the roses before they left for dinner, (b) her apartment was now filled with the pungent aroma of fresh roses, and (c) Chloe was allergic to roses. Or something. Something that involved the smell of roses making her nauseous.
After they’d entered the apartment, and she’d spotted the huge bunch of red roses lying in the glass bowl in her sink, she’d run straight into the bathroom, hand clamped over her mouth, and yelled out to him, “Oh my god! Clark, get rid of them, get rid of them please!”
“Get rid of… these roses?” Perfect. “But, they’re so…” Expensive, he thinks. “Beautiful,” he says.
“Beautiful?” Her voice is high-pitched from behind the bathroom door, and he thinks he hears her retch. “They’re weapons, Clark. They stink and they make you bleed with those god damned evil thorns…”
Clark sighs as he takes the dripping roses to the fire escape and incinerates them with his heat vision before closing the window to keep the smell out.
“Are they gone?” Chloe whimpers through the closed bathroom door.
“They’re gone.”
The door opens tentatively, and Chloe emerges looking a little rumpled and kind of panicked.
“What did you do with them?”
He rolls his eyes. “I burnt them up on the fire escape. The ashes have probably blown away by now.”
“With your heat vision,” she murmurs, and he doesn’t respond because, yeah - of course.
What girl doesn’t like roses?
Just the one girl who he’s in love with. Great. He’s never ever going to get her naked.
“Clark, I was thinking, maybe you could stay over tonight?”
It’s official, Clark thinks to himself. When it comes to women, I have absolutely no clue what’s going on.
“Stay over?” His voice cracks a bit with excitement.
Chloe slips out of her sandals and lets her hair down as she crosses the room to him. Oh, it’s on. “Yeah, I’ll stay over, Chlo.”
Chloe immediately looks relieved. “Thanks,” she breathes. Then, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna get comfortable.”
Clark’s counting his lucky stars. Did she honestly just use the, wait here while I slip into something a little more comfortable line? He’s seen lots of movies that have gotten really interesting after the girl says that. He imagines Chloe coming out of the bedroom in a sheer nightgown, or - oh my God - or an unbuttoned men’s shirt with nothing underneath. Oh and yeah, he’d be able to see her nipples, all hard, peeking out from underneath the shirt. Yeah. Extra points if it’s one of his shirts that she’s somehow obtained and has been sleeping in every night.
He sucks in a breath loudly as blood rushes to his cock. Yup, he’s hard, and since he’s wearing his nice dress pants, there’s no hiding it, because they’re kind of loose, and now they’re absolutely tented. This is embarrassing. They haven’t even kissed yet and he’s got a boner that can be spotted three blocks away. He tries adjusting it in his pants, but all he manages to do is push it from the right side of his zipper to the left side. He decides to sit down and pull a throw pillow onto his lap. That’ll work.
When Chloe comes out of the bedroom, he’s once again mystified. She’s in the same old pajamas she had been wearing the other night when they ate Chinese together. Hair back up in a ponytail again. No fuzzy slippers this time.
But no sheer nightgown either.
It’s kind of weird, but Clark’s still really turned on. She plops down next to him on the couch, tucking her legs under her bottom and sighs worriedly.
“I just, I feel so much better that you’re here.” She bites her lip. “I can’t believe that I have… that I’ve got…”
Not one nipple showing? Clark supplies in his head.
“… a stalker,” she finishes.
“A stalker?”
“Yeah, Clark. Someone obviously snuck in here while we were out and left those roses for me. Probably even knew they’d make me sick.” She shakes her head in disbelief. “I know Lana’s had stalkers before. I just never thought it’d happen to me.”
“Chloe, you don’t have a stalker,” he exhales with a half chuckle. She immediately glares at him.
“I do so have a stalker.”
“Chloe,” he starts. He needs to just tell her that the roses were from him, not because he was trying to make her sick, but because he was trying to make her… horny? He pauses as he tries to come up with a better explanation.
“Clark,” she says sharply. “Why wouldn’t I have a stalker?” Clark senses, once again, that the night is not going the way he wants it to. “I mean, is it so unbelievable that I might have a stalker? That someone might… I don’t know… be crazy obsessed with me?”
It’s really not unbelievable at all. But it’s still not exactly what happened. He doesn’t want Chloe to feel afraid.
“Chlo,” he soothes. “It’s not that you wouldn’t have stalker; it’s that, tonight, now, you don’t have a stalker.”
“I can’t believe I thought…” She crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes. “You really don’t find me attractive at all, do you?” Her tone is accusatory. Her words are just plain… incorrect.
“W-what?”
“I’m that unattractive, aren’t I? I’m just not pretty enough to have stalker, right? You can’t even imagine me having a stalker.” She’s pouting and looks almost as if she might cry and making Chloe cry was absolutely not part of his brilliant seduction.
He grabs her face in his big hands and he looks her in the eyes. “Chloe. Listen to me. You are gorgeous. Even in those god-awful pajamas, I just wanna…” Whoa, where is he going with that? “Fuck,” he mutters, and then squares himself again. “You are definitely pretty enough to have a stalker. You probably have multiple stalkers, that’s how pretty you are.”
She’s momentarily stunned, but then she sniffs and says, “You mean it? You think I could have a stalker?”
Clark leans closer to her and god damn he wants to just jump on top of her, but he knows he needs to take it slow with Chloe, and so he just leans his forehead against hers and smiles and says, “You definitely have a stalker. A big one.”
His face is thisclose to hers and Clark can’t stop his eyes from dropping down to her mouth when she says, “A big one?” She sounds all breathless and again, almost aroused. He knows he needs to go slow, but he can’t help letting one of his hands slide around to cup the back of her neck.
Christ, he’s so turned on right now and it’s totally obvious when he says, “Yeah,” and it comes out all low and growly. He has to kiss her. He just has to. For the hundredth time he reminds himself to take it slow and gentle. Just one kiss. No tongue. And probably better if he warns her.
“Chloe, m’gonna k-”
Before he gets the words out, her mouth is crashing over his and she’s kissing him hard and oh God oh God she’s pulling him down on top of her and thank god the pillow kind of moves with him and now it’s in between them, which is kind of awkward, but then again, hello? Boner also kind of awkward.
But all of a sudden she’s yanking the pillow out from in between them. And, holy Jesus she’s unbuckling his belt! And she’s… she’s… talking?
“Did you mean it, Clark?”
He feels his zipper being lowered and his brains just fly right out the window. She’s going to. Oh God. She’s going to touch his dick.
“W-wh? Uh?”
“Tell me you meant it, Clark.” She’s stroking him and Jesus Jesus biting his neck and he has no idea what she’s talking about.
“I meant it,” he gasps, as she rubs her thumb over the head of his cock. “About the, oh Christ, the stalker?” He’s jerking hard against her and not sure where to put his hands because he’s not sure what base they’re on and he doesn’t want to do anything that might result in her stopping. “You are totally stalker material. You’re like… uh! J Lo in that movie we saw where… ohmyGod… she’s a Mexican pop star or whatever.”
“No, the other thing you said,” she whispers hot in his ear.
Clark’s frantically trying to replay anything he’s ever said to Chloe in his life, when he decides that whatever he said, he meant it. “Yeah, Chlo. Oh yeah. I meant it all.”
He can feel her smile against his neck but thankfully she doesn’t stop rubbing his cock. Clark never thought he’d get a hand job tonight. It’s too good.
“You said,” she drags out the words, slow and low against his ear. “You said ‘even in these god-awful pajamas, you just wanna fuck.’”
Clark’s eyes shoot open wide - and yeah, he’s pretty sure that’s not what he said, or at least, not what he meant, but he’s certainly not going to correct her this time. Because despite what he said or didn’t say, he sure does wanna fuck.
Which is why he’s whimpering as she pushes him off of her, until he realizes she just needs some room to get undressed. She’s unbuttoning the pajama top and, okay, there’s the answer to that question, no bra. And Jesus. Fucking fantastic breasts.
Clark lunges down against her, eager to take one of those perfect little nipples into his mouth, but she shoves him back again.
“Oh, s-sorry,” he sputters. Damn. He keeps forgetting to go slow. Sure, she was moving pretty quickly before, but she must want him to slow down now because she’s… Oh holy Mary mother of God. She’s taking off her pajama bottoms.
She’s thrusting her hips up against his, and wiggling out of the soft cotton drawstring pants and, oh yeah, her panties too. She’s. Totally. Naked.
“Chloe, oh my God,” he blubbers. “You’re so… oh God. You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe…”
“I can’t believe you’re still fully clothed,” she interrupts, and yeah, good point.
He unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off his shoulders, but in his haste, he forgets to unbutton the cuffs, so when he curls up to shove down his pants and boxers, he rips the shirt clean in half down the back. The pieces just hang from his wrists when he pounces on her.
And when they’re pressed together, skin to skin, nothing in between them, it’s so fucking good. Chloe’s bucking her hips up against his, rubbing her sex against his aching cock and it’s, God, better than anything he’d imagined. She’s kissing him savagely, and then she pushes him up so that he’s sitting up, and before he can protest she climbs onto his lap and straddles him, and whoa, does she have superspeed? Because she’s got a condom in her hands that she pulled out of freakin’ nowhere. This is crazy. He was hoping for a kiss and now he’s about to get laid.
He must look like he’s nervous or something, because Chloe stops before opening the condom wrapper and looks him in the eye. “Clark, we don’t have to do this. We can just fool around if you want. I don’t want to push you. If you’re not ready, I mean. Although, to be perfectly clear, I am absolutely ready.”
For the millionth time in the past two days, Clark is struck dumb. He just stares at her in amazement for a long minute. Finally, he snatches the condom from her hand and tears the wrapper with his teeth.
“Chloe,” he growls as he strokes the condom onto his erection. “Quit talking to me like I’m a sixteen year old girl. Now come on and fuck me.”
She squeals and literally hops onto his cock, sinking down onto him slowly. He pushes inside of her and God it’s everything, everything he’d ever wanted. She’s so hot and slick and oh, tight. He knows he won’t last long.
Chloe’s bouncing on his lap and he doesn’t know whether to kiss her or stare at her or touch her and so he just tries a rapid succession of all three. It seems to work for her, because she’s clutching him by the neck, digging her fingernails into his scalp, and she sounds like she’s having a good time.
She starts levering herself up and down on his lap, and it’s just crazy and she’s so wild and he’s barely doing anything but suddenly he feels her muscles clenching around him and good god damn that feels amazing. She’s coming and riding him and he can’t do anything but just take it, because he doesn’t know what he did to get them here, naked on the couch, but it sure as hell wasn’t his attempt at romance.
And speaking of romantic, when he feels Chloe’s hands reach around underneath her, past the base of his cock to massage his balls, he cries out, “Oh Chloe I love you!” and comes hard inside of her.
He blushes as he feels her sniggering against his chest, her breath hot against his skin, but then he figures, hey, she’s the one with his nuts in her hand. He’s not going to be embarrassed about expressing his feelings. It’s already been thoroughly established that he’s the girl in this relationship.
“I kind of got the feeling that maybe you did,” she breathes, and slumps against him.
Clark grins and pushes her hair out of her eyes. She looks gorgeous and flushed and totally fucked out and he definitely loves her.
She shifts a bit on his lap, and he’s still inside her and pretty sensitive, so it makes him shake a bit.
“Ah! God, Chloe. What gave me away?”
She smiles her wide Chloe smile. “Well I wasn’t sure, at first, because you were acting kind of weird. But then when you gave me that flash drive…” her voice trails off for a moment, like she’s reliving something amazing. “God, Clark, I almost kissed you right there.”
“When I gave you the flash drive?” You’ve got to be shitting me, he thinks.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t play all innocent. You knew that would drive me wild. And then you were so flirty - letting me drive your truck and everything.” She sighed again. “That was so fucking sexy.”
“It was?”
“You know it was.”
Clark just goes with it.
“And then, oh mmm. The heat vision.”
He huffs out a short laugh. “The heat vision?”
“Ohhhh yeah.” She’s positively purring now, and Clark feels his cock twitch inside her. “First with the soup, and then,” she’s sucking little kisses onto his throat and man, that feels good. “Then with the evil roses… Oh! And when you got out of the truck and used your superspeed!”
Huh. So basically, take everything Clark thought he knew about seducing Chloe and just throw it out the window with the fried roses. It seemed the stuff that really turned her on was just… regular Clark stuff.
He’s definitely getting hard again, and she seems to be okay with that because she’s starting to move her hips in just the right way.
“You know exactly how to push my buttons, don’t you, Clark?”
Clark smiles and kisses her. “Yeah,” he shrugs. “I guess I do.”