Making Up For Lost Time - Chloe/Bart - NC17
Title: Making Up For Lost Time
Category: Smallville
Rating: NC17
Genre: Romance/Humor
Pairing: Chloe/Bart
Word Count: 4,181
Prompt: “If you could go one day without powers…” - lilmoochie
Summary: A lighthearted night together turns into something far more intimate.
Previous: When Right Began, All In,
Making Up For Lost Time
1/1
Dressed in flannel pajamas, she dug out a handful of cooling popcorn as she laid out on the couch, her wool sock covered feet sitting comfortably in Bart’s lap while he tapped an unconscious tune against her ankle with his forefinger. Some part of him always had to be moving, she’d noticed. And while that might have annoyed someone else, she found it rather endearing, encompassing him so significantly.
They were playing Twenty Questions and thus far, he’d asked most of them while she tried to think up one big question of all questions to ask him.
“All right, you’re trapped on an island and you’re sick of coconuts…”
She laughed, shaking her head, “Where do you come up with this stuff?”
He grinned. “All natural.”
“Mm…” She smiled, staring up at him through content green eyes. One month, two weeks, four days; that’s how long their relationship had been going, and strongly at that.
“Now, like I was saying, you’re sick of coconuts but the monkeys are hording the bananas and you can’t bring yourself to kill the wild hogs…” His head was tipped back on the couch, brown shaggy hair mussed and his lips curled in a constant grin. While his finger began stroking her ankle absently, his other hand reached for popcorn and began tossing it in the air for him to catch with his mouth in between breaks as he continued his long and in-depth question.
“…And before you ask,” his brows lifted knowingly, “you’ve been on the island for a couple months and you’re alone, so sadly you don’t have me to speed you across the ocean or whatever…” He smiled at her mischievously. “And don’t say you’ll call Superman because he’s too busy fending off Lois and her craziness…”
She chuckled.
“Anyway…”
There were moments where she wondered why she’d put this off as long as she did. Because now, when everything was so clear, she realized she’d been avoiding the best relationship she’d ever had. Yes, there were quirks and problems and they didn’t always see eye to eye. His incessant desire to be everywhere at once meant that sometimes he wasn’t where she wanted him to be. And maybe the others didn’t quite understand their relationship, seeing as they were still stuck in the phase of seeing Bart as the rambunctious, over-energetic boy of the League rather than the man she knew him to be. But it was moments like these, where it was just the two of them and they were a normal, happy couple that could relax on a Saturday night with popcorn and absurd questions that she knew she’d made the right decision. That being with Bart was perhaps the smartest move she’d made in a long, long time.
“What about the monkeys?” she interrupted. “If I can’t kill the pig, couldn’t I just… I dunno, skewer a monkey?”
He looked dramatically horrified. “You can’t kill the little monkeys, ‘licious. They’re like… a step away from us! It’s practically like eating your brother!”
She laughed, her eyes lighting up. “I wouldn’t eat the monkeys… They’re too cute.” She sighed, feeling a lighthearted warmth fill her chest. “Go on…” she encouraged, rolling her eyes.
“All right, so…”
Much laughter and absurd questions later, far overreaching twenty, she finally came up with a question of her own. “All right,” she snuggled her head back against the arm rest of the couch and turned her eyes toward his, “If you could go one day without powers, what would you do?”
He tipped his head, mouth quirking up at one corner. “I’d spend it with you,” His eyes bore intently into hers, “making long, passionate, intense love to you until we were both too exhausted to do anything more than breathe and sleep…”
She felt her chest hitch, her breath stutter and then she managed to ask, “And how does a lack of your usual extreme speed change that?”
He grinned, fingers tickling her ankle. “If I had them I’d make long, passionate intense love to you until I needed to refuel,” he explained, “and then it’d start all over again until you begged me to stop…” He grinned. “Course I’d still be ready and raring, but I’d let you sleep and maybe take a run around to work it off… Pick you up something to eat in some exotic city and wake you up with your favorite coffee…”
Her mouth ticked. “Very suave, Impulse.”
He smirked. “I have my moments.”
He’d come a long way from the blushing and overexcited young man she’d first met.
“Think you can keep up with me, even with my powers?” he teased, cocking his brow.
She met his with a curled brow of her own. “Keep up? I’ll knock you right out of your sneakers.”
He laughed throatily, shaking his head and then, in a move so quick she hadn’t seen it, her feet were on the still warm but bare couch cushion while he sidled in between her legs, taking one of her hands in his, their fingers twined. Nose to nose, he grinned at her surprise. “That a promise?”
She let out a breathy sigh. “I give as good as I get, Allen.”
He grinned. “Hold that thought.”
“Wh-“
In a blur of red, she watched his two-point-five second journey around the living room until suddenly, it was lit with flickering white candles, the lights off, and the wilting flowers on her table had been plucked dry, their petals strewn everywhere. She lifted up on her elbow and grinned at her surroundings, eyes flicking up to him as he came to a stop in front of her, proud of himself.
“Nice trick.”
He shrugged. “Thought I’d pull out all the stops…”
He looked so calm; gone was the jittery feet and the flush that rose up his neck or the giddy smile that adorned his mouth whenever he got near her. He held out a hand and without hesitation, she slipped hers into his. He tugged her up easily until she was pressed tight to him, suddenly feeling ridiculous in her flannel pj’s. But his easy grin comforted her, the warmth in his eyes filled her and while she was still shaky on the inside, she felt outwardly composed.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, the pressure of his palm against the small of her back heightened for only a fraction of a moment before she was standing in her bedroom, right next to her bed. She could still see the dim light of the candles in the living room but now the moon filtered through her curtains intimately.
She felt a nervous smile quirk her lips and suddenly felt much younger and inexperienced. She’d only ever really been with Jimmy but she was certainly no virgin. And this was Bart; quirky, sweet, attentive Bart. So why was she so nervous to take this step?
His hands cupped her face, thumbs stroking her cheeks. “I’d happily hold you all night if that’s what you want.”
And with those words, she took a deep breath and realized how foolish she’d been. It wasn’t nerves so much as anticipation; she was worried because she wanted this to be great, she wanted this to be a moment to remember. Because this was Bart and her; it was them.
She ran a hand through his hair, thumb following the curve of his ear affectionately. “One last question…”
“Shoot,” he murmured.
“How much difference would the mirror make?”
Laughing, he shook his head before capturing her lips in a kiss that took her very breath away. His arm tightened around her waist, drawing her into him as he stepped forward and slid them onto the bed.
His hands filled with the too-large buttons of her pajama top before she shrugged it away, digging it out from beneath her to toss on the floor. The air was chilly, leaving goosebumps across her naked flesh. Reaching back, he tugged his shirt up and off before he was leaning over her, fingers walking from her navel, up her stomach, across her ribs to the front clasp of her pale red bra. His elbow dug into the bed next to her, hand buried in his hair as he held himself up. She could feel the heat of his body absorbed into hers and bit her lip as he bypassed the clasp to trace the curves of her breast over one bra cup. Her stomach jumped, her heart pounded and she shivered involuntarily.
She’d seen him shirtless more times than she could count but for some reason, in this moment, it was far more intense. He had a subtly toned upper body, lean with a hidden strength so many underestimated. Even she, in all the time she’d spent with him, had often thought of him as more young that mature. But his body took on the same edge he did when he stepped out of Bart and into Impulse.
His eyes traced her form, from the hollow of her throat to her rising and falling navel. With quick fingers, he had her bra clasp undone and the fabric fell to either side of her. She let out a breathless sigh as she felt the weight of her heaving breasts released. He didn’t touch her right away, instead letting her lie there in desperation. She bit her lip so she wouldn’t arch up needily. His mouth curled slowly as if he knew. Somehow, he was always able to make a once nervous situation lighthearted again.
She didn’t feel like a slouch in the looks department, but she’d always been the sidekick and rarely center stage. Having him look at her like this, with his fingers now slowly running a figure eight around her breasts, restrained passion radiating off of him, she felt like she was picked out of the crowd and drawn forward for her big duet. He leaned forward so incredibly slow that she felt as if time itself had moved into slow-motion. It was ridiculous to link him to it, considering he was quite literally the fastest man on earth, but the way his head dipped, his lips descending as she waited impatiently, it felt as though an eternity passed.
He kissed first the tip of one nipple and then the other delicately, just a smooth brush of his lips against her. Her breast tightened in response, her belly filling with desire and her knees trembling as she watched him cross to the other with the same patient tenderness. His body covered hers, their stomachs touching. His hand found hers, fingers threading, while the other fell to her shoulder and ran down the length of her, squeezing her hip for just a moment.
She could feel his hot breath skittering over her, blowing against her breasts in heady pants that left her teeth digging into her lower lip. She blinked away the haze that ringed around her eyes. Flattening his tongue, he pressed it down against her nipple, dragging it languidly across her. She couldn’t help it; she shuddered, letting out a muffled cry. Her body stretched out, lifting toward him, wanting.
She could feel him grinning against her and that made a bubble fill her throat suddenly. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head side to side. But just as quickly, he’d begun kissing her ribs, teasing her with his teeth and tongue, leaving her just as breathless as before. She buried a hand in his hair, fingers tightening in the russet mess.
Unbidden, memories of how the League boys used to tease Bart that he was likely still a virgin, too quick to spend the time interesting a girl, too hung up on the unattainable Chloe, she found she wanted to let them all know how wrong they were. Because if Bart Allen was a virgin, he was damn knowledgeable for one. As his tongue flicked inside her navel, she hiccupped on a sigh, her eyes fluttering. Or maybe he just knew her.
His hand left hers, rough fingers running down her arms, along her bare side and curling tightly around her thigh. She could feel his thumbs against each of her inner-thighs, stroking, enticing, and furthering the heat in her belly. His mouth seemed to be everywhere and for somebody with the ability he had, she wasn’t so certain it wasn’t. His lips could be felt at her neck, suckling her, while she could still feel the heat of his tongue gliding along the valley of her breasts and simultaneously his teeth marking her hip possessively.
Without her even acknowledging the loss, her pants disappeared and she was left in nothing but a pair of panties she couldn’t see in the surrounding darkness. They felt wet between her thighs, small and inconsequential and she found she wanted them off too. Instead of taking that initiative, however, she turned him over onto his back. No way was she letting him do all the work. She was a woman of equality, after all.
He laughed lightly, grinning as he lay sprawled beneath her, his arms crossed behind his head. “Do your worst, Beautiful.”
She grinned, eyes glinting with warm mischief. “Challenge accepted, Mr. Allen.”
Having him at her mercy was liberating. He could be half way across the world in a blink of an eye, but here, right now, he was only with her, feeling her fingers and her mouth and seeing only her face. The rest of the world was in the background, the twitch of his feet was on stop and his entire focus was entirely put on her. She felt a glow deep inside her chest, pride and adoration swelling.
While she might not have his speed, his way of being everywhere at once, she knew how to make what she was doing all-consuming. She straddled his waist, rotating her hips just enough to have him groan with appreciation. She leaned forward, hands pressing down on his shoulders, essentially pinning him to the bed. Tilting forward, her nose grazing his, she lowered her lips until she could feel their breath mingling between them. He watched her through lowered, intense eyes, content just to bare witness to this moment.
He’d always had such incredible lips, the kind that women dreamt about and wanted for themselves; lush and pink and perfectly kissable. But instead of giving in to that tugging instinct, she nibbled his lower lip, just a quick nip of her teeth, drawing him in and then letting go. She ducked her head and pressed her lips to his throat, laving his Adam’s apple. His collar bone was next, teeth scraping over thin flesh before soft lips were exploring his chest, pride swelling as his body heaved with each thick breath.
His shoulders flexed beneath her fingers; the tight, sinewy muscles he hid beneath hoodies and oversized shirts not so subtle now as she traced them with keen fingertips. She flicked his nipple with her tongue, scoring it with her teeth until he let out a guttural groan and then she was on the move again. His stomach rippled with each exhalation, the trail of coarse dark hair disappearing beneath a pair of loose fitting jeans. She traced his hips bones with her tongue, teasing him as he tore his eyes away, clenching them closed. He didn’t move to take control though, even as his hands balled in his fists and his body strained with need.
She sat up on him, the pressure of her heat weighing heavily on the bulge beneath his pants. She unfastened his jeans slowly, lowering the zipper and sliding a hand in to skim lightly. He thrust forward, unable to help himself. The power she’d once felt was wavering as she found herself falling victim to her own desire.
Her mind whirled with the here and now. Once upon a time, she’d laughed off Bart’s advances, thinking him too young and immature for her. She’d been certain he wasn’t her type, wasn’t ready for the long-term relationship she wanted. She’d reveled in his compliments, sure. Felt herself stand out amongst the beauty queens every time he ignored them in favor of showing his Chloelicious his ardor was still going strong. And now, after all this time, here they were…
He stared up at her with those same dark blue eyes, intent on showing her just how much he really cared. And there was no denial to be had now. There was no going back. Suddenly all the time she’d wasted felt like far too much. She could’ve had this. Could’ve had him here, looking up at her like she strung the stars in the sky just for him. And if she could have… she would. Just to see him grin like he was now, his head tipped to one side, his cheeks flushed and his body shaking with pent up desire. For her. With everybody else in this world, the exotic beauties he could’ve met on any number of missions, the Lois Lane’s and the Lana Lang’s, he chose her.
“You still with me, Gorgeous?” he asked, his voice rougher now. He reached out, cupped her cheek wonderingly.
She relaxed, pressing her face closer into his hand. “Nowhere I’d rather be,” she murmured.
He smirked, but his eyes softened.
Shaking off her romanticism, she leaned forward, mouth brushing his as she spoke, “You’re sure you can handle me?”
“Been preparing myself for this moment for a long time, ‘Licious.”
She swallowed tightly, caught his lips and let go.
She knew she’d fall just as certainly as she knew he’d catch her.
Her head hit the pillows, despite being laid out across the bed just a moment before. His hands were stroking along the band of her panties, thumbs tracing the crease of her hips. Their eyes caught as he dragged them down her hips, tossing them away. Her breath hitched as his fingers swept across her, teasing her folds but never touching what she so wanted. He massaged her into a frenzy, her body wriggling around for more. His boxers were shed without her notice and he knelt between her thighs, his mouth replacing slow, torturous fingers.
As his tongue slid between her nether-lips, she arched off the bed so quick she swore her spine cracked. She let out a whine of pleasure, her body so taut with tension she couldn’t unwind herself. He spread her legs with one hand, using the other to rub across her ribs, calming her even as he licked and nibbled her into near tears. Her toes curled in the blanket, fingers cupping her breasts, squeezing each time his tongue slid near her clit.
Jimmy had tried this before, but he felt so inexperienced, so unsure as he ducked between her legs, examining her like a photograph, trying to figure out the best angle to come at her from. It was nothing like the pleasure she was experiencing now. Bart’s tongue was just as quick as the rest of him, bringing her to new levels of pleasure only to evade the crescendo and focus elsewhere until she was sweating and panting and begging him with a heavy tongue and a near-crazed mind.
When her fourth orgasm passed her by, she dug a hand in his hair, traced the shell of his ear as tenderly as she could and pleaded with him. “Bart…”
His grin spread her further until she felt as though her entirety was splayed bare and open, raw and wet. His tongue dragged across her, dipping inside as his nose rubbed her clit in fluid strokes. This time, she could feel it building from her toes, burning in her knees, weighing heavy in her stomach and tightening her breasts until it was threatening to choke her. And then, when she couldn’t breathe or see or feel anything except his insistent tongue and the withheld pleasure of too much, she burst forward, flying, mesmerized. She remembered crying out, could hear her own hoarse voice in the near distance, but for the moment, her eyes were dark and her body was a jellied mass of ecstasy. As she fell back to earth, her legs fell apart, useless and her heart beat heavy in her chest. When her eyes regained sight she turned to see him lying next to her, his hand stroking her ribs tenderly.
“Mmph,” was all she could get out.
In. Credible.
Absolutely nothing like it.
She wanted to tell him this, but her mouth wasn’t working up to par. Knowing, he leaned in, kissed her in a long, drawn out mesh of lips and tongues that had her heavy arms winding around his neck. Her body was pressing him back against the bed even as his fingers stroked her shoulders. “We don’t have to…” he mumbled against her mouth.
“Hey, gives as good as she gets, remember?” she growled, the feeling returning to her limbs just as a flair of the yet to be discovered settled between her thighs once more.
She lowered a hand between them, found him rigid and eager. Now it was him who was arching, his shoulders tensing and his head falling back as she gripped him tight, pumping him a few times, getting the hang of it. He was thicker, longer than Jimmy had been. Her thumb explored him, swiping along the top as he thrust and whimpered. Despite feeling tender from all of his teasing, there was nothing she wanted more now than him buried inside her. She let him go, ignored the automatic protest that escaped his throat and buried her face in his throat, biting down on his shoulder as she lowered herself onto him, swallowing him deep inside, clenching as each thick inch embedded further.
He groaned, his hands gripping her hips so tight she was sure marks would be left behind. The type he’d no doubt kiss and apologize over come morning. But for now, his fingers dug in and he strained with each slow thrust of himself deeper and deeper until she was completely full. Sweat broke out along her back, her thighs flexed, her chest heaved, breasts rubbing against him.
She buried a hand in his hair, pushed up and arched her back, lifting with her legs and feeling him leave her until just the tip could be felt. Twirling her hips, she lowered until she was stretched to the limit, consuming the whole of him. His hands fell to her thighs, squeezing. She had control a few torturous moments before he flipped them over, took her hand and pinned it above her head. His kiss was sweet and soft but the pump of his hips against hers was the opposite. Making love took on a whole new meaning for her then.
He had more endurance or stamina than she was sure any other man could boast. What might’ve been minutes felt like hours and after an hour, she felt like days had passed. Multiple orgasms was the name of the game and she was winning tenfold. She was so hoarse from crying out his name, sobbing incoherently, that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to talk by morning.
Her head spun. In one night he’d had her in ways she’d never imagined, never thought she’d let herself entertain. She was comfortable with him, held no reserves as her leg was flung over his shoulder or he laid her on her stomach, taking her from behind, kissing her back as he spread her legs and thrust deep. The intimacy level skyrocketed. She’d never known this kind of safety and comfort. To lay with him, laugh as they nearly fell of the bed, to playfully joke as he pressed kisses across her butt, biting her cheek lightly before continuing his exploration of her entire body.
When the sun filtered through the shades, she laid exhausted, her entire body thrumming. He was fast asleep next to her, his arm slung snug across her waist, his face buried against her breast. She watched him with sleepy eyes and a smile that wouldn’t fade. Her fingers ran up and down his forearm of their own accord while she simply lay there, content for the first time in a long time. So many years thinking this time of happiness was reserved for others, reaching and falling short, and now here it was.
“Hey,” he mumbled, bleary eyes staring up at her.
“Hey,” she murmured back.
“Ge’some sleep.” He snuggled closer to her. “Refueling will be had in a few hours and then it’s shower gymnastics,” he told her with a sleepy grin.
“Easy tiger, I’m still recovering as it is,” she replied, chuckling.
He snorted smugly, squeezing her waist as if to remind her she should get some sleep. And while she wasn’t often one to follow anything resembling orders, she was beyond exhaustion… and looking rather forward to said ‘shower gymnastics,’ of which she was sure she was going to need a lot of energy for. They had a lot of lost time to make up for, after all.
[ Next: Don't Say You Understand.]