All In - T - Chloe/Bart
Title: All In
Category: Smallville
Rating: T
Genre: Romance/Humor
Pairing: Chloe/Bart
Word Count: 1,790
Prompt: Lightening - krysyuy
Summary: She expected to be kiss; anticipated it even...
Previous: When Right Began,
All In
1/1
She expected to be kissed; anticipated it even. But for the first three dates, there was nothing. On the fourth, he kissed her knuckles lingeringly, his eyes staring into hers so deeply she actually sighed. The fifth date, his lips pressed against her cheek, his warm breath lingering even after he sped away, leaving her leaning against her apartment door, waiting, wanting.
After days, weeks, years spent wanting this, he wouldn't take that last step to make it truly official. If he didn't kiss her soon, she was going to get a complex. He wanted this, didn't he? After all his hard work, all the time they spent together, laughing, touching, truly getting closer... He felt it, didn't he? Fear tightened her throat. What if after all this, she fell and he didn't? What if after all he went through, he realized his mistake just as she was changing her mind? Panic, worry, desire and hope swirled inside of her until she was a mess with no idea what to do or how to fix it. She wasn't like this; she wasn't used to doubt or uncertainty. She was a strong, independent woman who had long passed the crushing on the guy who didn't want her faze... Wasn't she?
Their sixth date was at a carnival. It was loud and bright and it made the worried haze dull as she was swept up in the rides and the cotton candy and how warm his hand felt wrapped around hers. She knew he was getting a fair bit of ribbing from the team but all he did was shrug, smile and wink at her each time they brought it up. He didn't back down, he didn't utter those dreadful four words, "We need to talk," and he didn't once make her truly feel like he had changed his mind. When she was with him, everything else seemed to fade. It was just him with that affectionate grin and his fingers tucking her hair behind her ears before he ran circles around her excitedly or swept her up in his arms and made cheesy proclamations about anything and everything, leaving her laughing and floating on her own little cloud nine.
Suddenly, he lifted their arms and twirled her beneath them; she had an odd affection for how random he could be. "Hotdogs and then the House of Mirrors? What d'ya think?"
"I think you stomach is an endless pit," she replied, smiling.
Grinning, he kissed her cheek. "Have to keep my strength up, 'licious."
"And what would that be for? Last I checked, mirrors weren't the most strenuous of activities..."
He wiggled his eyebrows, walking backwards toward the food stand. "Depends where you put 'em."
Her mouth fell open and she shook her head as he laughed, turning back toward the hot dog vendor.
It was entirely his fault that her head filled with visions of them in a bed with a ridiculous mirror pinned just above. She cleared her throat and tried to will the image away before it became too vivid. Hadn't even properly kissed and she was getting ahead of them already...
Four hot dogs and two cokes later, he was dragging her toward the House of Mirrors while she dug around for a napkin hoping to slow him down long enough to wipe the mustard staining his upper lip away, not that he cared any. He stuffed tickets into the hand of an old, uninterested worker and then pulled her inside the creaking and overdramatic house. She could hear girls squealing and boys laughing in the distance while she and Bart walked hand in hand through the maze of reflective glass. She'd seen far worse in reality than a distorted her. Still, it felt like she was young and innocent and the rest of the world was outside, away from them for just a moment.
They stepped into a wide circle, the doorway they stepped through slamming behind them as a window replaced it; trapped, or at least seemingly so. She could see the crack of light where the exit door was but she walked around anyway, wanting the full effect. As she moved, he stood in the center, his eyes trailing after her, neck craning.
She pointed a thumb to one of the mirrors that showed her nearly squashed to the floor in a compact mess. "And I didn't think I could get any shorter..." she joked lightly.
He smiled, reaching a hand out for her. She took it, letting him tug her in close. Her heartbeat sped up as they stood chest to chest and for a second, she worried it'd jump right out of her and into him without missing a beat. She could feel his breath on her cheek, warm, caressing. His forehead touched hers and a shiver escaped down her back, leaving her skin tingling and her breath shaking.
She waited, wanted, but his lips never swept forward, didn't even inch closer. Seconds passed and then a minute and she felt resignation swell up inside. He wouldn't do it; wouldn't kiss her. Anger flared; what if he did realize his mistake with her but wasn't sure he could admit it to her? What if he was hoping she'd end it first? What ifs by the thousands ran through her head, driving her crazy. She hated that feeling; useless and unsure of herself or him or them. She knew, she understood what they are and what they could be. She hadn't known then but she got it now. And she wasn't going to let him decide without first knowing what he'd be missing if he walked away.
She took the initiative.
She tipped her head, breaking the contact of their foreheads. She caught his eyes, held on and then pressed her lips to his firmly. Warm, tingling, and then... Then she was breathless, her knees shook, and she was parting her lips before she was dragging in a deep breath and kissing him again. Her tongue reached, swept over his lower lip and then slid inside, touched his, urged him to take, to want, to receive. Her hand lifted, cradled his neck, fingers flaring in his hair, tightening, holding. Her mouth fit against his like a puzzle piece meeting its partner; their noses brushed lightly before she was leaning into him, taking his strength to keep herself up as she drank it in.
It was like lightening striking, energizing her mouth into taking action, taking all of him. When he kissed back, she felt herself quake; struck again, a bolt of intimate passion. Desire raced from her lips to her fingertips to her breasts and down to her toes; she felt it, him, everywhere. Her arm slid around his waist, hand clutching his shirt tightly, desperately, as if afraid that if she let go she'd fall and not get up.
For all of his time holding back, he wasn't now. His mouth took hold of hers possessively, lips warm, soft, and rough all the same; plunging, marking, bruising in their intensity. She met him head on, felt a mirror cold against her back as he nearly slammed her against it. She cried out against his mouth, not in pain but in surprise and sucked in another gust of air. His fingers slid into her hair, massaged her scalp, her neck, tightened and tugged, drawing her closer, deeper.
His body was tight against her, every inch seeming to become part of her. One of his hands fell from her hair, clasped around her wrist; his thumb flicked across her racing pulse before he slid his fingers down her forearm, the sensation tickled her, made her body jolt against him. She gasped into his mouth and his tongue swept forward, taking possession of her own, dancing together.
There was a keening nose in the background, so quiet she nearly didn't hear it over the rushing in her ears, and then the mirror gave a little behind her and she paused, her mouth, her hands, her everything.
Panting, he drew back slightly, his eyes opening, glazed but staring back at her. "What?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
"I think we broke the mirror," she murmured, licking her lips.
His brow furrowed. "Huh?"
She looked around with emphasis before leaning into him and away from the mirror she'd been pressed up against. Looking over her shoulder she saw a jagged crack running down the center and couldn't help a slight smile.
Shaking his head, Bart tugged her forward and brushed at the back of her shirt and pants, making sure no loose glass had clung to her. "You okay?" he wondered, clearing his throat to get it back to its usual warm tone.
"Yeah. Fine. Just..." She stared up at him, her eyes searching his. "Who knew you had it in you, Allen?"
He grinned rather smugly, but there was a faint pink stain to his cheeks that reminded her this was their first kiss and he'd been trying to convince her of 'them' for a long, long time. "You would've known sooner, but..."
She laughed, shaking her head. "You would have to if you'd made a move. Six dates, Bart. I'm disappointed."
He glanced down and then caught her eyes again, genuine affection reigning there. He tucked her hair behind her ear like he so often did, thumb lingering against her cheek. "Had to make sure, 'licious."
Her eyes narrowed. "Was this... a test?"
He winced slightly. "If I kissed you it just meant I did what I've wanted to for awhile, but... If you kissed me..."
"You'd know it was for real," she finish, nodding slowly. "You still weren't sure if I was all in." It wasn't a question but a statement.
He smiled rather sadly. "You're a hard woman to read sometimes."
She covered his hand with hers. "I think I was pretty clear a minute ago."
He grinned widely before saluting her goofily. "Read you loud and clear," he said, winking.
Rolling her eyes, she threaded their fingers and turned toward the exit. "Come on, let's get out of here before somebody wants us to pay the damages."
Grinning, Bart looked back. "We could just take it and buy them a new one... For nostalgic purposes..."
She sent him a sidelong look and shook her head. "If you think you're hanging that over your bed, you've got another thing coming!"
Laughing, he slung an arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her hair.
Unable to stop herself from smiling, she slid her arm around his waist and sighed contently. If ever she had a doubt, kissing him erased every last bit of it. And she was more than happy with that outcome.
[ Next: Making Up For Lost Time.]