Uninvited (An Unfortunate Slight) - Bizarroe - NC-17 - 04/??
Title: Uninvited (An Unfortunate Slight)
Author: shelia ivorykiss
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: angst, violence and dark graphic sexual situations
Pairing: Bizarroe [Bizarro!Clark-Chloe]
Spoilers: Phantom, Bizarro
Disclaimers: I don’t own them, that makes me sad. The title and moodlet of this little piece are from Alanis Morissette’s Uninvited.
A/N: Comments, critiques are always welcome. The awesome banner was generously made by the lovely and talented mssullivan!!
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The sound of flesh striking flesh was almost sexual and Chloe squirmed on the counter top, slightly embarrassed by the direction her thoughts were wandering as Clark and his doppelganger crashed around, literally destroying the apartment around her.
The grunts and growls that echoed as they fought didn’t do anything to help banish those dirty!bad!wrong! thoughts flitting through her mind as they strained against each other, equally powerful forearms shoving against identical necks.
Clark had lost the remains of his blasted shirt and jacket when Bizarro, what else was she going to call him? Tyler Durden?, had grabbed him by the shoulders and slung him into the wall.
Bizarro had lost his when Clark tackled, then flipped him over his shoulder, leaving them both wearing nothing but low slung jeans and giving Chloe an unobstructed view of acres of dirty and scratched and bloody skin as they tore up hell all around her.
She bit her lip, to keep her little sigh of appreciation at the view to herself as their powerful muscles bunched and flexed, straining against one another, dirty, scratched and bloody skin sliding together in a mesmerizing not so vaguely erotic dance and Chloe tried really, really hard to ignore just how close their faces, and oh my god, their mouths were to each other as they snarled.
Chloe swallowed hard when she realized she couldn’t tell them apart anymore. Which side was Bizarro wounded on? Was it the side with the little mole sitting high on his cheek? She thought franticly but then she didn’t have time for any more thoughts because the one on her left laughed suddenly and for a blinding moment there was only the roar of heat and fire and when she could finally blink through the brightness they were both gone and there was a huge hole right though one of the walls.
She hopped down off the bar, cursing her shaky legs as she picked her way around and over the debris and made her way to the Talon’s brand new picture window.
It was still dark, the sun wouldn’t be rising for a few more hours, and it was difficult enough without the absence of light to keep her eyes on the two figures below her. They were barely more than a blur as they punched and threw each other around. One moment they were tangled in the storefront across the street, the next, she was mourning her poor smashed Yaris.
Chloe heard the squeal of compressed metal and the scattering rain of safety glass and looked down just in time to see them roll off the remains of her car.
She didn’t have time to mourn for long because she found herself suddenly falling through air. They had slammed into the Talon, the building shaking all the way to its foundation.
Chloe didn’t even have time to gasp before strong arms encircled her. She blinked up into clear green eyes and relief and annoyance flashed through her at the amusement he didn’t even try to hide.
He grinned at her, and then she was clutching at broad shoulders because she was falling again, this time upward.
He moved quickly, deftly dodging the rubble of the apartment and in a move that probably should have pissed her off more than it really did, she found herself deposited back on the counter with a firm admonishment of ‘Stay’.
She opened her mouth to protest, not quite sure which one to be irritated with, but he was turning away, meeting his twin in another insanely perfect erotic crash of flesh.
Then suddenly she could tell them apart. Chloe shuddered, although Bizarro’s skin had smoothed out, those impossible rocky angles gone, she could still see a green mark sitting below his left eye.
Could he morph at will? Could Clark?
Clark had Bizarro against the door frame, one large hand wrapped around the other’s neck; squeezing and his other hand held the metal remains of a chair. He brought it up and pressed it in the wound and twisted.
She heard Bizarro’s deep grunt of pain as he struggled and then he abruptly laughed and Clark was instantly on his knees.
Chloe gasped. Green light seemed to glow from the rock that Bizarro held fisted in his hand and he laughed again as he kicked Clark to the floor.
Clark’s face was a study in agony as he tried to back away and he cried out when a large booted foot stomped on one of his out flung arms.
Bizarro panted as he dropped heavily, planting his knee right in the middle of his Clark’s chest, pinning him to the ground. He drew back his arm and time seemed to slow for Chloe as fist connected with mouth and blood sprayed as Clark’s head turned with the impact.
“No! Please!”
The scream was torn from her throat and Bizarro looked up at her. There was an odd hopefulness in his expression and the vibrating timbre that softened his voice was unbelievably compelling as he spoke.
“What will you trade?”
She looked down at Clark and he shook his head slightly, his eyes full of pain and regret and a faintly green tinged tear trailed slowly down her face as she whispered softly.
“What do you want?”
“You.”
Her eyes snapped back up, meeting his and she shivered. There was a dark promise in his gaze that she was afraid to think about, didn’t have time to think about, because it didn’t matter what shadowy possibilities his intent look held, the most important thing right now was to stop him from hurting Clark more.
Or even killing him.
She licked her lips. “Okay.”
A sense of relief washed through her as he smiled broadly and shoved the hunk of kryptonite in the front pocket of his jeans. Relief quickly turned to panic as he reached down and grabbed Clark’s face.
“Trust me, Chloe.” He said as he twisted his hands.
And she could only whimper and stare in agonized shock, the sickening snap of bone loud and echoing in her ears as Clark spasmed once and then lay deathly still.
The universe spun around her, her vision graying and blurring. Chloe blinked rapidly fighting against the unconsciousness that threatened and watched as he reached down and grabbed Clark by the arm.
Clark’s head was bent at an impossibly horrible angle and she vaguely recognized her own screams of helpless rage and denial as Bizarro dragged, then carelessly tossed Clark in front of the busted wall.
He frowned, and she must have imagined the hurt expression that crossed his face. Then he was in front of her.
The last thing she heard was the crazy, soothing calmness of his voice against her ear, “I said, Trust me,” and Chloe welcomed the black oblivion rapidly replacing her graying vision as he took her in his arms and shot into the sky.
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