Patiently In Love - T - Chloe/Oliver - OneShot
Title: Patiently In Love
Category: Smallville
Song: Walking By - Holiday Parade
Rating: T
Genre: Romance/Angst
Ship: Chloe/Oliver
Challenge: Music/Fic
Word Count: 1,240
Summary: She thinks she's using him, but he’s loving her until she loves him back.
Patiently In Love
1/1
It's about the nights we spend locked up inside your room
It's about the morning; breaking always just a bit too soon
It's about the way you're scared.
Baby, just maybe I'm aware.
This is what you need.
Cause…
Every time you walk in the room,
Can't help myself I want to be with you.
With a mic, quick, check, one... two
Singin' out my lungs, just to reach you.
I'm alive.
And I keep my cool one more time.
And you just keep on walking by...
Walking By - Holiday Parade
~*~
Legs tangled. Fingers buried in hair, skin, sheets. Cries. Whimpers. Moans. Whispered names. Fluttering eyes. Sweat dampened skin. Heat, everywhere. Scalds his skin, tightens, scores down his back. Lips meeting, teeth gnashing. Laughter, light, sweet, melodic. Tired. Soothed. She lets him hold her after.
Oliver glanced up as she stepped into the room, all professional and clean-cut. She allowed a brief smile at her surrounding team before getting down to business. She held up the remote, brought up their next target and went into Watchtower mode. She didn’t look at him any more or less than the others. What happened the night before - all the nights of before - was forgotten and discarded. He remained stoic, always. He wouldn’t let her see that it hurt because if he did, she might run. And he’d worked too hard to get it to this point to let her get away now.
“I want eyes on him, 24/7. He plays clean but there’s absolutely no way. Find me evidence and do it yesterday.” She turned back, lifted a brow and smirked. “Any questions?”
Bart’s hand lifted.
With a humorous roll of her eyes, she shook her head. “No, I’m not going out with you Friday.” Before he could say anything, she added, “Or any other day of the week.” She looked around at the gathered League. “Any questions vital to our mission?”
Nothing.
“Good.” Turning around, she lifted up her file folders. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Make me proud.” And with that, she saluted cheekily and made her way toward the elevator.
The others stayed around awhile, discussing modes of transportation and who was going where. Bart raided the fridge and called out his preferences from the comfort of his seat atop the counter.
Oliver left them to their conversation and followed after Chloe, who was still waiting for the lift to arrive.
She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes.
“Hey,” she greeted, brow furrowing before she returned to staring at the cage doors. “You need something?”
He stared a moment, before giving his luck a try. “Dinner. Tonight.”
Entirely too brightly to be believed, she answered, “Can’t. Busy.” With a ding, the elevator opened and she stepped inside. Sending him a half smile, she assured, “Rain check.”
Wasn’t it always?
And with that, she was gone.
He wouldn’t see her for two days but when she arrived, she reached for him with all the passion he had pent up inside him.
“Please.”
Arms around his neck, supple body pressed tight to his. Searching lips searing his skin, exploring, leaving her imprint everywhere. Clothes shed, tossed, torn, thrown away and forgotten. Her on her knees, his pants dragged to his ankles. Her hands and mouth making him delirious until his knees visibly shake. He wants to say no, wants to ask for more than this, but he doesn’t. Her eyes, so wide and pleading. He can’t walk away, can’t push her away. He wants her. He loves her. He drags her from the floor, cradles her against his chest, takes her to the bed and exhausts her until she can do more than hold on to him, tight and wanting.
“I’m sorry.” He knows. He accepts. Closes his eyes, buried his face in her hair. Prays it was different.
Morning comes too soon; she’s crawling out of his embrace. He pretends to sleep, doesn’t stir as she dresses in the ripped remains of her clothes. She kisses him goodbye lingeringly, nuzzles his nose with hers before she’s gone. And he’s left with nothing but her scent still around him and the memories of her hands, her brilliant smile, those adoring eyes of hers staring up at him like he hung the stars.
When he saw her next, she was like a different person. Still quirky, genius Chloe, but her smile was smaller, less inviting. She went over the success of their last mission, congratulated them on work well done and even kissed Bart’s cheek just to soften her latest refusal for a date. As the others filtered out, she was still there. He was confused. She never stayed longer than necessary and never has she initiated anything directly after the League had left. She took to showing up when she couldn’t handle her emotions anymore; when the heartbreak got to be too much.
He waited impatiently for something to happen; the clenching of his chest worried him. Was this when she would break it all off? End what little he got of her already? He couldn’t handle that. The only thing holding him together were the brief nights of refuge she allowed him to have. A lifetime without her body tight against his, without breathing in her scent as he drifted to sleep; he couldn’t take that. His guard lifted; his spine straightened for abrupt dismissal.
She didn’t say a word for what seemed like an eternity but averaged to as little as ten minutes. Finally, she crossed the room, sat at the corner of her desk and stared up at him. “What’s been happening… How I’ve been treating you…” Her gaze turned away. “I can’t apologize enough for that.”
He managed a smile. “I wasn’t pushing you away, Sidekick.” He desperately hoped he didn’t sound as worried as he did. He was trying, really, to accept things as they were.
“I know…” She smiled sadly at him. “You’ve been incredible to me and I’ve… I’ve been using you.” Her brows knit, eyes falling heavily. “You were just…”
He couldn’t stop himself; he reached for her, gathered her in his arms and tucked her head beneath his chin. If the only thing he could do for her was be physical comfort, he’d accepted that. Did he want more? Hell yes. He wanted it all. Had for longer than Jimmy had been cold in the ground. And that knowledge ate at him. He held his tongue when she married the wrong guy, he felt the grief and guilt when that same man died and he tossed away the leather just as soon as he realized his heroics had taken a swan dive off the Queen Tower. And she’d picked him back up, despite the part he played in all of it. More than that, she shared her body with him when he was a helping hand in shredding her heart.
“I’ve got you,” he told her, closing his eyes tight.
“That’s just it,” she cried, shaking her head. “You shouldn’t have me… But you do.”
His heart panged.
“I should hate you… I should blame you… But I don’t…” Arms tightening around him, she pressed her face deeper into his chest. “I don’t.”
He didn’t know what that meant; didn’t know where things would go. But that night they hadn’t done anything more than hold each other, clothes intact. And in the morning, she didn’t run away. She lingered in his arms, cuddled up beneath the sheets, and let herself sleep in. She didn’t hide her smiles after that, didn’t brush him off any longer. And maybe this was the beginning, maybe now she wouldn’t walk by him but stop and acknowledge him and what he had to offer. He would wait, he would see, and he would let things progress as they must. However long, whatever it took, he would be there. She would love him as he did her; she was already halfway there, she just didn’t know it.