Waiting For Her - M15 - Chloe/Bruce - OneShot
Title: Waiting For Her
Category: Smallville/Batman (Crossover)
Rating: M15
Genre: Romance/Angst
Pairing: Chloe/Bruce
Prompt: Moonlight by svgurl
Word Count: 1,343
Summary: (Sequel to Wait and See) Their choice for rendezvous weren't only for safety.
Waiting For Her
-Drabble-
She told herself they met in dark corners because standing in the light was like having a target marked on them, but she knew the real reason and it wasn't anything to do with life or death, although he had become quite the seductive addiction. She had the information he needed, packed safely in an easily accessible disk that only the two of them knew the codes to. Like every other time they met, she turned down one of the many dirty and shadowed alleyways, waiting for his silent arrival. She wasn't scared; not of him or the creeps that walked the streets. She'd dealt with demons worse than them or aiming to be, she had the scars and background to show for it. She could handle her own.
When he arrived, she felt a tingle run up her spine; anticipation. She turned around knowingly, not bothering to wait for his smug question of whether she had it or not, amused at how he caught her off guard. It'd been a long while since he'd been able to sneak up on her; the tell tale signs were more instinct than sight or hearing. She looked up at him, swathed in his Kevlar and skin tight suit, showing off each and every muscle that she'd memorized by sight alone. The only way to see each other was from the shine of the moon filtering between them, lighting the fewest of features, but enough to know who it was, easily. He was rather hard to miss.
She plucked the disk from her pocket and held it up, but drew it away before he could take it. "What? No thank you?"
His lips pursed for a moment before curling slightly. "I don't have time tonight."
"You always have time," she reminded, lifting a brow. "In fact, you seem to have more time than you did before."
The closest thing to a smile crossed his mouth. "I told you to get new shoes."
He always said that and she continued not to. Perhaps because she knew what they did to him; how they haunted his thoughts. Had they finally caused her demise? Was she still going against the simplest of orders? She reached forward, ran a finger along his lower lip. "I told you to go to hell," she reminded.
He smirked. "I remember."
She grinned. "And yet here you are."
He stepped forward and turned her so quickly, her breath stuttered. His hard body pressed her against the brick wall behind her. "This is hell."
She licked her lips. "It's certainly hot enough." She rocked her hips against him, satisfied when he growled, low from his throat.
"I don't have time to..." he trailed off on a groan when she took one of his hands and placed it across her breast.
It didn't take long; he took control within seconds and had her hauled up against the wall, her thighs parted and her shirt up to her shoulders, bra pushed out of the way. Batman or not, duties or not, he never turned her down. More than that, there were a few times when she walked into her office at the Gotham Gazette only to have the black bat bending her over her desk and pushing her skirt up to her waist. He sought her out more than she ever turned to him and she preferred it that way. They were supposed to stay as professional as possible, only going to each other with "business" related problems. But there was something about his growl, about his eyes that penetrated through her with such visceral passion. She couldn't get him off her mind and now that he was being as honest as he could get; admitting his true identity and trusting her with details he'd only given to Lucius or Alfred, she knew that she was affecting him as push as he was affecting her.
She wondered if Lucius made modifications to his suit specifically for this, but when he was thrusting inside of her without having to shed most of his suit, she really couldn't care. So long as he was filling her, putting together those broken pieces of her that only found their place when he was touching her, kissing her, growling against her throat. The dark alleyways were their own little piece of heaven, the moonlight their only beacon to each other, shining down across his large body as it covered hers entirely. Just once, she'd like to have Bruce, her hands running through his hair and his full, bare body pressing into hers. But it was Kevlar that scraped against her stomach and black leather that her fingers ran over as she gripped his shoulders. It was all him inside of her though; Bruce and Batman taking her to heights that made her eyes roll back into her head and a guttural moan escape her.
When he kissed her, it was Bruce. It was tender but passionate, it was deep and intense and fulfilling in a way his alter ego couldn't reach. His lips, his breath across her face, her breasts, his teeth nibbling her lips, her neck, her nipples. It was fierce and possessive and the best part of Gotham were these moments. Forget chasing down leads and fighting crime; it was when she was wrapped up in his arms, having him take her as if she was his salvation before he went out and let the darkness pervade his mind. She knew not to cry his name out when she came, it was too dangerous, but she did whisper it into his mouth sometimes, when it was to the point where she was too was feeling possessive and needed him to know she wanted them both.
His gloved hands held tight to her hips, fingers digging in. His mouth kissed the corner of her lips, his breathing heavy and harsh, panting against her as he thrust harder, faster, deeper. She let out a cracked moan, her mouth falling open and her head leaning forward, forehead against his mask. "Bruce," she whimpered on a breath that was so quiet, she barely heard it. But she knew he did, because his fingers squeezed her and he captured her mouth before he came, painting her insides with the acknowledgment that she had them both; that both of him wanted her.
He held her tight against the wall until they were both able to stand up without fear of collapsing. Her heels clicked against the pavement. It took her a few seconds to collect herself, rearranging clothes clearing her throat, licking her swollen lips before staring back into those eyes of his. The moon shone down on him, an angel of darkness, standing before her like a promise of security and all that was right and wrong in the world. He reached for her, tucked her hair behind her ear tenderly, stroking her cheek with his gloved thumb. She knew she shouldn't fall too deep, but then wondered if maybe she already had, the second she first stepped into that alley and met him, offering up her assistance whenever he wanted.
She handed him the disk, which he put away in one of the slots on his belt before taking a step back, returning to the stoic hero she knew so well.
"Be careful," she said, though she knew he didn't want to hear it.
He glanced down at her feet and she knew he was cocking a brow, asking her once more to get new shoes, quieter than those she so loved wearing.
She smirked, shaking her head. "Not happening."
He sighed, annoyed and somehow proud of her all in the same moment. He was used to cowering and she'd never lower herself.
She left before he could, knowing if she stayed he'd only end up disappearing the first second her eyes weren't on him. She stepped out into the streetlamp lit sidewalk, already missing the embrace of dark, moonlit alleys. She'd return again; she always did. Because he was there, waiting for her.