Living for the Here and Now - NC17 - Sam/Chloe - OneShot
Title: Living For The Here and Now
Category: Smallville/Supernatural (Crossover)
Rating: NC17
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Chloe/Sam (No, that's not a mistake... People have asked and I'm giving it a try...)
Prompt: Chocolate by shiverslala
Word Count: 3,103
Summary: Dean gives Sam a little shove and he finally finds his footing with Chloe there to catch him.
Living For the Here and Now
-1/1-
He was nervous... He shouldn't be; this was Chloe. There was nobody, besides maybe his brother, that he trusted more. But this was a different level of trust. Dean had gone out for pie, giving him a thumbs-up on his way and Sam knew he wouldn't be back until morning, probably getting an uncomfortable sleep in the Impala. But he wouldn't complain because Dean was all for "Sammy" getting some. So here he was, his throat dry and his hands shaking. He felt much too large compared to her tiny form, like he was all arms and legs. And for a minute it reminded him of junior high (the many schools he'd had to attend) and his awkward, too tall stage where he felt like he should be constantly ducking so other people didn't feel like they were in the presence of a giant. But Chloe never made him feel like he was too big or a lumbering body of limbs, which is why the stupid and ridiculous fluttering in his stomach should have already stopped.
He cleared his throat for the nth time and shuffled side to side as he sat on the bed, staring at her with his brow knit and his hands sitting awkwardly in his lap.
She smiled at him. "I'm not pressuring you for sex, Sam."
He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, I know... I know that, I just..."
"You just...?" She shook her head, brow lifted. "Hey, if you don't want things to change from friendship, I'm okay with that... In fact, Dean was the one who kind of hinted that this should be more... If the bottle of chocolate syrup on the table and the sticky note that says, ‘Use me well, Chloe,' on it was anything to by..." She grinned, chuckling lightly.
He laughed, nodding. "So you didn't think about us before then...?"
He shouldn't be disappointed; this was a way out, to get away from the fluttering and the sweaty palms and possibly letting her realize that he really was all arms and legs.
He'd never been nervous when it came to sex. He wasn't like Dean who could jump into it so easily, he liked to have a connection with a woman before things progressed, but he wasn't incapable in bed. He didn't boast, but he did feel he had a more than suitable understanding of what to do, what not to, where to touch and kiss and... He should really stop thinking. It was bringing up those dreams he'd been having, that left his mornings uncomfortable as he hurried to the bathroom before Chloe looked over at him as she browsed the newspaper at the supplied table, absently listening to the cartoons Dean had on. While she might not have thought about things progressing between them, Sam had. A lot. Often. Constantly.
"I never said that... I just don't want you to think that because your brother thought it would make sense that you should strip down and jump into bed with me."
He grinned, eyes falling. "I don't think I'd be complaining about most of that... And trust me, whatever Dean thinks is good for me isn't generally what I follow as a life rule."
She laughed. "He has good intentions... Sometimes."
Sam nodded, his shoulders relaxing as he looked up at her.
She was leaned back on the bed, propped on her elbows, the fabric of her blouse stretched taut across her chest, hugging her breasts. He swallowed tightly, forcing his eyes up and away. A little over six months ago, the feisty and intuitive Chloe Sullivan had joined their exclusive hunting team. She'd been on the run at the time, for reasons they later learned were a mixture of things involving people, politics, the weirdness that was Smallville, and a band of superheroes that she was forced to leave behind. And she fit in, better than Sam had ever imagined an outsider managing. She put Dean in his place while still keeping a good rapport with him, flirting back playfully but in the end treating Dean more like a goofy best friend rather than a man to be infatuated with. She knew Dean's flaws, accepted that he wasn't going to break down and cry over all the bad crap in their lives, and took him as he was. They fought on occasion and Dean was protective of her like a little sister at times, but they were a strong fighting duo and Sam knew that if anything ever happened, he could trust his brother in Chloe's care and vice versa.
He wasn't planning on giving up anytime soon, however; even with a demon war on the very edge of blowing up in their faces. And he knew that was one reason Dean was pushing him to start something up with Chloe, one last go at something real, lasting, to hold onto in the end. The sparks were there and strong and Sam couldn't pretend he didn't have a deep connection with her. She was witty and beautiful and she didn't back down, not from anyone. She was there to listen and she kept secrets better than a high tech vault. She was rarely shocked, enjoyed the mystery of hunting and she didn't let it jade her, instead taking a lesson from each hunt and becoming a stronger person for it.
"What's going on in that shaggy head of yours?" she wondered, voice soft.
His lips quirked. "Few years ago, I don't think I ever would've imagined my life turning out like this." His eyes thinned thoughtfully.
"Nobody really knows what their life's going to be like." She sat up on the bed and tucked her hair behind her ear. "We make assumptions and goals and we hope that's what we'll get but most of the time, it doesn't turn out that way." She half-frowned. "A few years ago I would've thought I'd be the top journalist in my field, that I'd be married to Clark Kent, or..." She chuckled. "Jimmy Olsen." She lifted a shoulder. "But right now, I'm glad I'm not."
His brow furrowed. "What could possibly make you happier in this life?"
She smiled at him, head tipping to the side. "I save people, every day... I don't walk away when I know people need help. I utilize everything I've learned to make sure that anybody out there who's innocent has a chance at staying that way. And..." She grinned widely. "I spend every day with two Winchester brothers who I swear make it all so much more than it should be. You guys are fun and screwed up and you do it every day... No matter how much it hurts or how often you worry that you'll be next or he will... You pick up the sawed off and you pop in Zeppelin and you just... You go out there and you take a stand." She shook her head. "I guess I'm just magnetized to heroes."
He swallowed, licking his dry lips. He didn't hear it put that way often. "I wanted to walk away though... I wanted to be a lawyer, with a wife and kids and the picket fence..." He rolled his eyes as if he knew now that it was an impossible dream.
Her expression softened, thankfully not with pity. "I'm sure Jess deserved you... And I'm sure that you would've been happy with that life... But you're a hunter, Sam, and really... You'd always wonder and you'd always be worried... You'd be scared one day that someone or something would find you and know what you were... You'd be scared that it'd be your friends or your family and you'd always think that it was your fault because you could've done something earlier..." She shook her head. "And I'm sorry about Jess, I really am. Maybe you never will find someone who matters to you as much as she did or does... Maybe you'll never get the white picket fence, but you have a brother who would give anything for you, you have a calling that you're made for, and you have this insatiable need to be out there, saving people, hunting things, and I honestly can't imagine you any other way." She lifted a shoulder. "Although I do think you'd make quite the good looking lawyer."
He chuckled under his breath, eyes falling. "I miss her... Jess... But sometimes I wonder if she ever really knew me. Because she didn't know this part and I didn't want her to. I loved her and I trusted her but I could never tell her about this, never let her see this side of me... And it scares me that I could love someone so much and think they loved me the same, but know that there was no way they really could..." He shook his head. "Because I knew everything about her and she only knew what I let her..." He looked up at her. "And then I look at you and in just six months, it's like I've shared everything and I'm not afraid to." He turned his eyes upward. "The only thing I seem to be afraid of with you is that I'm not going to be whatever you think I am... Like we'll get closer and we'll try this relationship thing and suddenly... You're going to realize that I should just be Sam... Your friend and your hunting partner and I'm scared that you're always going to be here and my feelings have already changed... I'm scared you don't like me half as much as I like you."
The bed dipped as she crawled across it and then suddenly she was kneeling between his legs, her hands on either side of him, propped on the bed to hold her up. "And how much do you think I like you?" she asked, brow lifted.
His heart hammered in his chest, loud enough that he wasn't sure he could hear his own voice as he replied. "I think my judgment's a little clouded... I can't really think straight when you're this close."
Her lips curved. She leaned forward, their noses brushing together and he let out a shaky breath. "Why don't you show me how much you like me," she suggested, "And I'll try and reciprocate the feeling."
He lifted a hand, wondering if she noticed just how large it seemed compared to her own petite form. He brushed her hair from her face, cupped her soft cheek and tilted her head ever so slightly before he leaned forward and slanted his lips over hers. She let out a tiny gasp that spurred him on. As soon as he felt the softness of her lips, it was as if a switch had been flicked. His eyes fell shut, mouth parting and then he couldn't hold back, no matter how much the fluttering in his stomach made him feel anxious. She tasted like coffee and something else that he couldn't quite pin. Her tongue tangled with his, meeting it stroke for stroke, never faltering. His fingers buried in her blonde hair and his other arm slid around her waist, drawing her in close until he felt her sprawl out atop his body. His hands wandered, stroking and gripping and kneading at her arms, legs, hips, shoulders... everywhere.
When her mouth broke away from his, she buried her face against his shoulder and kissed his neck just as fiercely while his head fell back, his chest heaving with each gasp for air. His hands ran down her back, cupped her butt through her jeans and drew her up against him, rocking his hips against her, the obvious bulge of his pants fitting between the juncture of her thighs just right. He hadn't even noticed she was undoing his shirt until she parted the fabric and her mouth wrapped around a nipple, teeth digging into his chest playfully. His shirt was stripped away, tossed to the floor and her hands gripped his biceps, running up and down, tracing each muscle before she kneaded them. And suddenly his arms weren't too long but just enough to wrap around her and have her mouth kiss and her fingers hold.
He drew her top up, the buttons holding it tight to her form before he got tired of waiting, didn't want to slow down, and he tore the thin fabric in half, smiling with only slight sheepish satisfaction before he was holding her hips in his large palms and turning her over on her back. Jeans were pushed away, the lace of her bra and panties pushed to the side so his mouth could lave at her breasts and suckle her heat. And as he laid her out beneath him, her body arched, her legs thrown over either of his shoulders as he slid deep inside of her, filling her to the brim and relishing in each tight clench of her around his length, he forgot all about any insecurities. There was just him and her, a woman who knew everything about him, accepted it and never threw it in his face or questioned what type of person he really was. She joined the war to lend a hand, she didn't spook at the first sign of danger, she faced it head on and she watched their backs as she did so.
She was just as feisty in bed as she was out of it. Her nails scored down his back, fingers digging into his sides as she encouraged him to go deeper, to thrust harder, to fulfill them both with all they could. Her mouth trailed a hot path everywhere she could reach, her teeth and tongue joining in the passion as she marked his body; his neck, shoulders, chest, arms, stomach and the inside of his thighs. It was fast and heady and he couldn't remember ever pushing thought to the side for pure enjoyment but he started to understand why Dean did this so often. He was sure his brother couldn't possibly enjoy the same pleasures with strangers, but then Dean wasn't the type to go looking for a girlfriend or a steady relationship. He wanted the here and now and later was for when it happened. Sam was different; Sam wanted Chloe here, now, later and whenever he possibly could.
She tasted sweet as his tongue lapped at her folds and even warmer between her thighs than when he was kissing her mouth and ignoring all necessary air. Her breasts were firm and filled his hands as he cupped them, suckling their pink centers as he thrust into her. She was soft and pale compared to his body of tanned angles and long form of muscles. She didn't seem to think his legs were too long as she gripped his thighs while she kissed up and down his length, her tongue tasting the head of his erection as he jerked on the bed beneath her, one hand tight around the blanket and the other one tangled in her hair. She didn't seem to find anything wrong with his body as she kissed each inch and gripped him wherever she could reach. She did nothing but enjoy it all as she sat on top of him, rocking back and forth, circling her hips, taking him deep inside of her and arching high above, breasts pushed out and head thrown back, crying his name out for all she was worth.
And when they fell back against the pillows, her sprawled on her stomach, her body stretched out, legs shaking and a hand pressed to her chest as if to slow her racing heart, all she did was smile. He cuddled up behind her, his arm wrapped around her, hand covered her own, fingers spread wide between the valley of her breasts. He kissed the back of her shoulder, nuzzled her neck as he buried his face in her hair and sighed with content. Their legs tangled together beneath the sheet he tossed over their spent bodies. She lifted his hand briefly, kissed his palm and then brought it back to her chest, her fingers wrapped in his.
"Think that'll put those hopes for the white picket fence to rest a little while?" she teased, her voice hoarse from all her crying out.
He grinned. "Just to be absolutely sure, I think we should do it often..."
She laughed. "No arguments here." She wiggled around to get comfortable, her back pressed tight against his front and turned her head to look up at him. "So how much more do you think you like me?"
"I think we're even." He kissed her cheek, then the corner of her mouth and let his lips hover over hers a moment. "You know Dean will never let us live this down, right?"
"Twenty bucks says the first thing out of his mouth is why we didn't use the chocolate syrup," she replied, smiling sleepily.
He kissed her, a chuckle escaping him. "Who says we won't?"
"Insatiable," she sighed, kissing him back.
"Guilty as charged."
She turned her head back and snuggled it against the pillow. "I'll have to punish you later."
He laid his head back and grinned contently to himself. "Looking forward to it."
He had no idea what the future held. There was a war coming, full of blood and death, and he knew that there was little chance that none of them would suffer in it, but he wasn't willing to let that rule his life. So his brother got something right in this regard and maybe he did need that little extra push to get him going. Chloe wasn't Jess and he knew that whatever happened, it was unlikely that she'd ever go back to reporting and he'd become some big lawyer; they wouldn't have 2.5 kids, a golden retriever, and live in a gated community. They'd more than likely live out the rest of their lives as hunters, however long or short they may be, and while it was too early to speculate on whether or not they were meant for some kind of forever, he let himself enjoy the here and now, knowing that the near later would have them in some form or another. If it all fell apart then he had her while he could and there would be no regretting it.
He held her tight, pressed his lips against her back and let his eyes close. He wouldn't worry his way out of this; he'd take a page from Dean's book and live for the moment, hoping it lasted.
Author's Note: I'm not very satisfied with this... But there it is and I hope you Sam/Chloe shippers out there like this. This will probably be my one and only Sam/Chloe story... I'm just better with Chloe/Dean. But I'm glad I wrote this and I hope it was worth asking for!