Chlark Fanfic: The Secrets She Keeps, Chapter 1
Title: The Secrets She Keeps
Author: babydee1
Pairing: Chlark
Rating: NC17
Timeline: Season 6; after Wither
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CW & DC Comics.
Summary: Clark catches Chloe in a very embarrassing position. Literally.
Written for the_fallen_sky in the secret_chlark ‘Fall Fling’ Autumn Gift Exchange
Chapter 1
Never again.
Chloe Sullivan swore under her breath as she yanked her bedsheets off the couch at the Talon - which was doubling as her makeshift bed - and shoved them angrily in the closet. She’d made the mistake of asking Jimmy to stay the night, and he’d made the mistake of assuming she’d be up for more than just cuddling.
The first and only other time she’d asked him to stay had been after their stakeout kiss in the woods. It had seemed right at the time, and he’d been a gentleman the entire night, which she’d been grateful for. She’d thought that given time, they’d maybe ease into a relationship, but every time they got together he just seemed to want the one thing she wasn’t ready to give him.
“I don’t know why you’re being such a prude,” he’d complained when she’d smacked his hand away from her boob for the third time. “It’s not like I haven’t already been there, you know.”
“That’s what rapists say right before they get arrested,” she’d shot back angrily. “Now get out.”
He’d left, seething, taking his semi-boner with him, and she’d never been happier to see the back of him.
She finished re-making her bed with fresh sheets and flopped down in the middle with a huge sigh of relief. Jimmy was gone, hopefully for good. She stared up at the ceiling and her mouth twitched with a small smile. She didn’t know why, but she had the distinct feeling that she’d just dodged a major bullet there.
At least Clark would be happy. He hadn’t really said anything about Jimmy, positive or negative, but she’d seen the discontent in his eyes the moment she’d introduced them to one another. He got the same look in his eyes every time Jimmy’s name came up in conversation, and when he’d come over and seen Jimmy walking out of her bathroom in the early hours of the morning, he’d looked positively heartbroken. Which didn’t make sense, because Clark had no reason to be jealous or resentful of Jimmy; Clark just wasn’t interested in her that way.
But she’d be lying to herself if she said didn’t wish that he was.
Chloe sighed and rested her hand on her belly. Yes, she no longer saw the need to try and convince herself otherwise. She was into Clark in a big way, had been from the moment they’d met seven years ago, and time had done nothing to dull the strength of the feelings he aroused in her. If anything, they’d gotten stronger, and the closeness they’d shared since she’d learned his true origins had only cemented her emotions. If she were to be completely honest with herself, she knew she loved him.
But he didn’t love her back, not the way she wanted him to.
Chloe sighed again, this time despondently. It wasn’t ideal, loving someone who would never love her back; but she’d learned to shroud her true feelings so that he would never know. She could live with having him as her best friend, and knowing that she was one of a few select people in Clark Kent’s circle of trust would have to be enough. He appreciated her for brains. Maybe in time, if he finally opened his eyes and looked past the shiny brunette mane that seemed to captivate him so deeply, he would finally notice that she, too, was a woman with a body that wasn’t half bad. But until then…
Her fingers crept below the waistband of her jeans. She popped the button and slid the zipper down, then slipped her hand beneath the edge of her panties. Until then, she would have a blast putting her imagination and her hand to good use.
“Clark,” she murmured as her fingers skimmed over the budding knot of desire. “I need you…”
***
He was over there again.
Clark sat scowling in the darkness of the loft, banging his ball against the wall over and over again. He knew it drove his mother crazy, but she much preferred it to him putting a fist through the wall, which he was easily capable of doing. And right now, he wanted to punch something, and punch it hard, because Jimmy freaking Olsen was sleeping over at the Talon yet again.
Clark’s stomach lurched at the awful thought, much like it did when he’d had the misfortune of actually seeing him over there half-dressed and tousle-haired in the early hours of the morning last week, strutting around the place like some damned prize peacock.
“Hey, CK, you want some coffee?” he’d offered cheerily.
Clark had stared at him in disbelief, and then at Chloe, who’d glanced down at the floor with a guilty flush. His eyes had returned to Jimmy Olsen again, and he’d felt the tell-tale itch of heat vision in his eyes as his fists automatically clenched by his sides. He’d hastily made an exit, because if he’d stayed in there for one more minute, Jimmy would have ended up with singed hair.
How could she? Clark sighed and closed his eyes, remembering Dark Thursday and the soft, supple feel of her body against his as she’d run into his arms and kissed him as he had never been kissed before or since. It had been a wondrous kiss; the kind of kiss a woman gave her true love before he went off to war, full of heart and hope and promise, and it had stayed with him all the way through his ordeal in the Phantom Zone and the journey back to earth. And he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he loved Chloe Sullivan with all his heart, and there would never be anyone else that would ever compare. He wanted them to be together, a true couple. The thought had thrilled and excited him, and he couldn’t wait any longer.
He’d gone straight to find her, to tell her how he really felt, and once again she’d run into his arms and held him like she never wanted to let go.
He didn’t waste any time. “Chloe,” he began, swallowing nervously, “Right before I left… there was this moment when we…” where we shared a passionate kiss that left no doubt in my mind that we were meant to be together.
“You mean when I laid one on you?” she finished, blushing through an embarrassed smile.
He smiled and nodded. She took a deep breath, and he waited for her next words, his heart pounding so heard he could swear she could hear it.
“Relax, Clark,” she’d said with an airy wave of her hand. “It was the end of the world; it’s not like I’m expecting us to hook up.”
Owwww.
Her careless words had hit him like a blast of icy water. There he’d been, heart in hand, only to have her brush off that epic kiss like it was nothing.
As if to reinforce her nonchalance, she’d proceeded to introduce him to Jimmy the Weasel Olsen as ‘a friend.’ Just a friend, not even best friend. He was still reeling from the two sudden stings when she waltzed off with said Weasel to get a bite to eat.
He should have said something. Fuck that; he should have done something, right then, like take Chloe in his arms and plant another soul-melting kiss on her lips right there in the middle of the bullpen, so that she and everyone else would know that he wanted her and was serious about her. He and Chloe would have been together, Jimmy would have backed off, and all would have been right with the universe.
But he hadn’t. And now Jimmy was over at the Talon, again, and Clark was pretty sure he wasn’t there for the lattes and cappuccinos. He’d seen him walking in there with a spring in his step, a smile on his face… and possibly a condom in his wallet.
Clark growled at the sickening thought, and clenched his fist hard as he threw the ball forward. It whistled through the air, hit the opposite wall and went clean through, splintering the thick wooden wall of the barn with a harsh crunching sound.
“Damn it!”
He got to his feet and went to inspect the damage. It had been a long time since he’d lost control of his strength like that. Clark sighed, despondent.
Chloe had made her choice. She was happy with Jimmy, and as her best friend it was Clark’s job to be happy for her, knowing that she was happy with another man… sending all her smiles, sunshine and kisses Jimmy’s way instead of his.
Clark scowled. Being a best friend sucked.
He heard a baleful whine, and Shelby’s head appeared over the top of the stairs, his eyes darting this way and that in search of his favourite toy.
“I know how you feel, buddy,” Clark said with a sad smile as he ruffled the dog’s fur.
Sighing, he got to his feet and trudged wearily down the stairs with Shelby at his heels. They set off towards the cornfields to begin the arduous task of searching for the lost ball.
***
Oh, yeah.
Chloe writhed and moaned as her hand worked her slick flesh. Clark’s image hovered in her mind as she inched ever closer to fulfilment, desire spreading through her loins with fierce heat. Her other hand reached for her breast and teased her nipple, and a surge of energy pulsed through her, making her gasp in pleasure.
Nothing got her hot and horny like the thought of Clark’s hands and mouth on her body, doing things that made her shiver and moan and crave for his touch. Her own hands were a poor substitute, but her imagination had always been wild, and she knew how to put it to good use.
“Clark,” she panted, working her hand feverishly between her legs. “Oh, God, Clark…!”
***
At the sound of his name, Clark stiffened and stood up straight. At first he thought he had imagined it, but then he heard it again.
“Clark!”
Chloe. She needed him, sounded frantic and urgent. Something must have gone wrong. If that fucker Jimmy Olsen was hurting her…
He sped off towards the talon, leaving a cloud of dust and a very confused dog in his wake.
***
The pleasurable tension was building, burning hotter and hotter in her veins, threatening to engulf her like a sensual eruption.
It was always like this when she had Clark in her head, when her hands became his as they drove her to the highest heights of pleasure. She twisted and bucked, kicking off the sheet and blankets as ecstasy beckoned, her jeans and underwear shucked down below her hips.
Almost there.
She moaned his name again, her voice rising as her hand sped up and that sweet pinnacle beckoned.
“Chloe!” he said.
Her lips parted to whisper his name… and then it hit her.
She’d heard him. Not that little voice of his in her head that she concocted when she was on the verge of coming, but him - in the flesh.
Before she could even begin to process the thought, her door was shoved open and the lights were flipped on, temporarily blinding her. She blinked and stared up in horror as the object of her desire stared down at her, his eyes and mouth wide open in shock as he took in her dishevelled, compromising state.
“Clark!” she gasped.
“Chloe,” he breathed, his face reddening. “Um… is this a bad time?”
***
Chapter 2…