Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala: Fic 15: Good Enough (5/5)
Series: Two Guys, a Girl and a Chevy Impala
Fic #15: Good Enough (3/?)
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not ours. Don't sue. Thanks.
Fandom: Supernatural/Smallville.
Pairing: Chloe/Dean, Sam/Sarah.
Chloe sat on the beach, staring blankly over the water, the moonlight dancing on the waves. Drawing in a breath as the water lapped at her bare feet, she kept her arms wrapped around her knees, shivering a little though the night arm was warm.
It was surprising how easily he found her, especially given the long tract of beach that bordered the main strip along the beach. Dean parked the Impala in an empty parking lot, seeing a small figure hunched over by the water, relieved to see her alive, in one piece. He got out and took off his shoes, muttering a soft curse when the still warm sand touched his calloused feet.
He worked towards her, feet shuffling against the sand, closing the distance between them. "Hey," he called when he reached her.
She turned her head to look at him, her eyes unreadable against the darkness. "Hey," she whispered.
He dropped to his knees behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back to him. He dropped a kiss against the back of her neck, feeling her soft tresses against his cheek. "Been looking for you."
She closed her eyes, leaning back against him as his arms enfolded her into a tight embrace. She let out a shuddering breath, covering his arms with her own.
"What's wrong?" he whispered, burying his face into her hair, wondering at her vanilla-scented skin. Her warmth. "I got the Colt, with Jo in tow..." He frowned with she shivered uncontrollably against him.
She shifted in his arms, turning around so she was facing him. Wordlessly she wound her arms around his neck tightly, her fingers threading through his hair.
Sensing the desperation in her touch, Dean lowered his head, crushing his mouth against hers in a blinding kiss. He held onto her tightly, lips moving against hers firmly.
She closed her eyes, returning the kiss with urgency, need. The memory of his body limp in her arms, life drained from him was too much to bear and a tear slipped down her cheek as she shifted closer to him.
Dean felt her legs wind around his torso, her body pressing against his, lighting an urgent fire in his body. His lips opened hers, tongue seeking entrance to her mouth, deepening the kiss. Hands roamed across her back, tracing patterns on her clothed shoulders, trying to ease the tension away.
She whimpered softly, her fingers sliding down the back of his neck. "I love you," she whispered against his mouth. "So much."
"Chloe," he whispered, breathing heavily against her skin as he trailed kisses along her cheek, down to her neck. I love you, too.
She tugged gently on the front of his shirt as she lay back on the sand, gazing up at him.
His lips stroked her neck as she lay back, tilting her head up, giving her permission to do whatever he wanted. His hands worked under her shirt, lifting it high, exposing her lace-clad breasts. He put his face between them, holding onto her, his body hard and ready for her.
"Please, Dean," she whispered, her voice strained as she slid her fingers down his back.
He chuckled a little, moving up to gaze into her eyes. "Here? Now?" When he saw the tears in her eyes, saw her lower lip tremble violently, he almost stopped his caresses. Her hold on him, though, was too complete. He would do anything for her. With one hand, he unclasped her bra and gently tweaked her taut nipple.
She moaned softly, tugging his head down and crushing her lips against his as his fingers worked her body into a heated frenzy, grabbing his shirt and yanking it over his head frantically. She then slid her hands down his chest to undo the button on his jeans, fumbling with the urgency she felt.
He moved his hips, helping her open his fly, nearly coming when she palmed his hard cock, rubbing him frantically. "Chloe," he groaned against her breast. I'm not gonna last long if you keep doing that. His hands nearly ripped her jeans button and zipper off.
She bit down lightly on his lower lip as he yanked her jeans down to her knees and she pulled him closer, pressing herself against him urgently, trying to kick her jeans from her legs. Please, she begged inwardly, whimpering. I can't wait anymore.
Pulling one leg out of her jeans, he wound it around him, lifting her hips as he drove into her, grunting when their bodies connected. He thrust into her mercilessly, sensing a need possessing her that vaguely unsettled him. His mouth crushed against hers, tongues mating. Her body jerked against his, and his hips answered her demands.
She cried out softly, another tear trickling down her cheek and she raked her nails lightly down his back, gripping onto him with a desperation she hadn't remembered feeling before. He was alive and in her arms. For now.
His sweat slick body collided with hers feverishly, and he felt her burning inside with the beginnings of her climax. His thrusts became ragged and uneven as he felt himself lost control, coming when he felt her inner walls pulling him in, jerking against his cock. He cried out, her name on his lips like a prayer, collapsing on top of her, exhausted. He buried his face into her neck, breathless. "I love you," he whispered.
She slid her arms around him, keeping him close, her own breathing still ragged. "I love you too," she whispered back, tracing her fingers through his short hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. The pain and fear she'd been feeling were still present. Still breath-taking. But she tried to push that all away as she lay beneath him silently, closing her eyes.
He chuckled a little, rolling over and taking her with him. Wrapping his arms around her, he looked into her dazed, watery eyes. "Kinda figured that with what just happened." He looked at her curiously. "What's wrong?"
Chloe gazed down at him, hesitating. "I lost you," she whispered almost inaudibly.
"No you didn't," he protested, holding her to him tightly. She shuddered against him, not from the sweat cooling on her skin, either, he realized with a start.
"I did," she whispered again, pressing her face against his neck for a moment before lifting her head to look at him once more. "You died in my arms in the back of the Roadhouse here in Atlantic City."
He thought for a moment she was joking and smirked. "The hell I..." Dean stopped speaking when he saw the complete despair in her eyes, her face turning ghostly pale. "No way, Chloe," he said, rubbing her back. "I think I would have remembered that."
"Not if the day restarted," she whispered.
"What?"
She slowly laid her head down, listening to the sound of his heartbeat for a few moments. "Jo wouldn't give you the gun and when you tried to take it...some friend of hers...Eddie...he shot you," she whispered.
Dean swallowed hard, his hand resting on her head. Pressing her against his chest, reminding her he was alive. Even as his body turned cold with shock, he blinked up at the night sky, watched the stars, and knew he was still alive. "Well, I don't know what happened, but I guess I got a second chance," he said absently.
Chloe closed her eyes, the words echoing in her mind.
When she didn't speak, Dean put his head back against the sand and sighed. "We need to go," he continued, "before we get arrested for indecent exposure."
She sat up slowly, quickly tugging her jeans back on before reaching out and picking his shirt up. Her eyes were filled with rapidly swirling emotions as she tugged it gently over his head, her hand pausing over his heart. "Dean?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
He took the shirt from her and pulled it over his head. He felt weary, drained. And her troubled voice, her pleading eyes, seemed to suck him into the void he felt between them. "Yeah," he said, not looking at her, though he had taken her hand, squeezing it gently.
"Promise me that..." She lifted her hands to his face, making him look at her. "That you won't leave me."
His hand clamped down on hers. "You know I'm never going to," he rasped, hurt that she might have any doubt about that.
"I wouldn't get through it," she whispered, her voice strained.
He gazed intently at her. "And what makes you think I'd live if we were separated?" He kissed her gently, keeping his anger at bay.
"Not...like that." She touched his cheek, closing her eyes and letting the mental walls drop, letting him see everything that had happened in the day that wasn't.
The images she shot at him bombarded his mind, bringing angry tears to his eyes. The blood. It was everywhere: on her hands, her shirt, on him. He watched her weeping over his body, cold and pale from the exsanguination. He blinked several times before the image faded and he saw Chloe talking to his mother. "The hell?" he whispered, hearing Mary's words about this being a test. For Chloe.
To prove her worth.
He grasped onto Chloe's arms for support, stroking her with unseeing eyes.
She slid her arms around him tightly, burying her face against his shoulder.
He gasped for breath, as if the bullet had pierced his body again. "A... test? Bullshit..." He dragged in a deep breath, putting both hands on her head, pulling her face to his with another feral kiss. I'm not gonna leave you, he promised her. Never.
She kissed him back urgently, her fingers tangling in his hair. I was afraid I would fail, she admitted silently.
He broke the kiss, looking at her incredulously. "How the hell could you think that? You're good at everything you do." He smirked at her knowingly.
"But the stakes had never been this high before," she whispered, cupping his cheek with one hand. "Not for me."
He sighed and looked away for a second. "I know, but... Chloe, it was my mom. Since she wasn't a crossroads demon, she was there for a greater purpose. You're a part of us, don't you see that by now? She didn't need to test your worth for me to find you worth all the rubies in the world."
A faint smile touched her lips. "I love you," she whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth and resting her forehead against his.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Dean breathed in, entwining their fingers. Feeling her heartbeat echo in his soul. She belonged to him, just like he was hers. He smiled at the thought. "Come on, let's get back to the hotel where I can love you properly."
"You always do. Doesn't matter where we are," she whispered against his ear.
He smiled and looked into her eyes. "Then let's get back so I can strip you naked and enjoy washing the sand off your hot little body." His eyes shone wickedly at the thought.
She grinned involuntarily, winding her arms around his neck as he picked her up, her own eyes bright again, seeming to sparkle in the moonlight. "You're the only one I ever want," she whispered seriously.
He kissed her nose. "Good thing, because I'm an antique and break easily." He carried her quickly to the Impala, tucking her in the passenger seat. When he slid in next to her, he pulled her close to him, their bodies touching as he started the car, feeling the thrum of the engine beneath his feet.
She rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes as she slid her arm around his waist possessively.
Smiling and throwing an arm around her shoulder, pulling her flush against him, Dean drove off into the night towards the hotel, an image of a future with her flashing into his mind for a split second: it was the peace of relative normalcy he had craved his entire life... and possibly, Chloe was the key to that. His brother seemed to have found it in Sarah, so why not he and Chloe when they killed the Yellow-Eyed Demon and Lex Luthor?
"Come on, let's take Jo back to Ellen," he whispered, kissing the top of Chloe's head, keeping the car straight on the road.
Chloe nodded slightly, curling against him and closing her eyes. She didn't know what was to come. Right now, all that mattered was the present.
Fic #15: Good Enough (3/?)
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not ours. Don't sue. Thanks.
Fandom: Supernatural/Smallville.
Pairing: Chloe/Dean, Sam/Sarah.
Chloe sat on the beach, staring blankly over the water, the moonlight dancing on the waves. Drawing in a breath as the water lapped at her bare feet, she kept her arms wrapped around her knees, shivering a little though the night arm was warm.
It was surprising how easily he found her, especially given the long tract of beach that bordered the main strip along the beach. Dean parked the Impala in an empty parking lot, seeing a small figure hunched over by the water, relieved to see her alive, in one piece. He got out and took off his shoes, muttering a soft curse when the still warm sand touched his calloused feet.
He worked towards her, feet shuffling against the sand, closing the distance between them. "Hey," he called when he reached her.
She turned her head to look at him, her eyes unreadable against the darkness. "Hey," she whispered.
He dropped to his knees behind her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back to him. He dropped a kiss against the back of her neck, feeling her soft tresses against his cheek. "Been looking for you."
She closed her eyes, leaning back against him as his arms enfolded her into a tight embrace. She let out a shuddering breath, covering his arms with her own.
"What's wrong?" he whispered, burying his face into her hair, wondering at her vanilla-scented skin. Her warmth. "I got the Colt, with Jo in tow..." He frowned with she shivered uncontrollably against him.
She shifted in his arms, turning around so she was facing him. Wordlessly she wound her arms around his neck tightly, her fingers threading through his hair.
Sensing the desperation in her touch, Dean lowered his head, crushing his mouth against hers in a blinding kiss. He held onto her tightly, lips moving against hers firmly.
She closed her eyes, returning the kiss with urgency, need. The memory of his body limp in her arms, life drained from him was too much to bear and a tear slipped down her cheek as she shifted closer to him.
Dean felt her legs wind around his torso, her body pressing against his, lighting an urgent fire in his body. His lips opened hers, tongue seeking entrance to her mouth, deepening the kiss. Hands roamed across her back, tracing patterns on her clothed shoulders, trying to ease the tension away.
She whimpered softly, her fingers sliding down the back of his neck. "I love you," she whispered against his mouth. "So much."
"Chloe," he whispered, breathing heavily against her skin as he trailed kisses along her cheek, down to her neck. I love you, too.
She tugged gently on the front of his shirt as she lay back on the sand, gazing up at him.
His lips stroked her neck as she lay back, tilting her head up, giving her permission to do whatever he wanted. His hands worked under her shirt, lifting it high, exposing her lace-clad breasts. He put his face between them, holding onto her, his body hard and ready for her.
"Please, Dean," she whispered, her voice strained as she slid her fingers down his back.
He chuckled a little, moving up to gaze into her eyes. "Here? Now?" When he saw the tears in her eyes, saw her lower lip tremble violently, he almost stopped his caresses. Her hold on him, though, was too complete. He would do anything for her. With one hand, he unclasped her bra and gently tweaked her taut nipple.
She moaned softly, tugging his head down and crushing her lips against his as his fingers worked her body into a heated frenzy, grabbing his shirt and yanking it over his head frantically. She then slid her hands down his chest to undo the button on his jeans, fumbling with the urgency she felt.
He moved his hips, helping her open his fly, nearly coming when she palmed his hard cock, rubbing him frantically. "Chloe," he groaned against her breast. I'm not gonna last long if you keep doing that. His hands nearly ripped her jeans button and zipper off.
She bit down lightly on his lower lip as he yanked her jeans down to her knees and she pulled him closer, pressing herself against him urgently, trying to kick her jeans from her legs. Please, she begged inwardly, whimpering. I can't wait anymore.
Pulling one leg out of her jeans, he wound it around him, lifting her hips as he drove into her, grunting when their bodies connected. He thrust into her mercilessly, sensing a need possessing her that vaguely unsettled him. His mouth crushed against hers, tongues mating. Her body jerked against his, and his hips answered her demands.
She cried out softly, another tear trickling down her cheek and she raked her nails lightly down his back, gripping onto him with a desperation she hadn't remembered feeling before. He was alive and in her arms. For now.
His sweat slick body collided with hers feverishly, and he felt her burning inside with the beginnings of her climax. His thrusts became ragged and uneven as he felt himself lost control, coming when he felt her inner walls pulling him in, jerking against his cock. He cried out, her name on his lips like a prayer, collapsing on top of her, exhausted. He buried his face into her neck, breathless. "I love you," he whispered.
She slid her arms around him, keeping him close, her own breathing still ragged. "I love you too," she whispered back, tracing her fingers through his short hair and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. The pain and fear she'd been feeling were still present. Still breath-taking. But she tried to push that all away as she lay beneath him silently, closing her eyes.
He chuckled a little, rolling over and taking her with him. Wrapping his arms around her, he looked into her dazed, watery eyes. "Kinda figured that with what just happened." He looked at her curiously. "What's wrong?"
Chloe gazed down at him, hesitating. "I lost you," she whispered almost inaudibly.
"No you didn't," he protested, holding her to him tightly. She shuddered against him, not from the sweat cooling on her skin, either, he realized with a start.
"I did," she whispered again, pressing her face against his neck for a moment before lifting her head to look at him once more. "You died in my arms in the back of the Roadhouse here in Atlantic City."
He thought for a moment she was joking and smirked. "The hell I..." Dean stopped speaking when he saw the complete despair in her eyes, her face turning ghostly pale. "No way, Chloe," he said, rubbing her back. "I think I would have remembered that."
"Not if the day restarted," she whispered.
"What?"
She slowly laid her head down, listening to the sound of his heartbeat for a few moments. "Jo wouldn't give you the gun and when you tried to take it...some friend of hers...Eddie...he shot you," she whispered.
Dean swallowed hard, his hand resting on her head. Pressing her against his chest, reminding her he was alive. Even as his body turned cold with shock, he blinked up at the night sky, watched the stars, and knew he was still alive. "Well, I don't know what happened, but I guess I got a second chance," he said absently.
Chloe closed her eyes, the words echoing in her mind.
When she didn't speak, Dean put his head back against the sand and sighed. "We need to go," he continued, "before we get arrested for indecent exposure."
She sat up slowly, quickly tugging her jeans back on before reaching out and picking his shirt up. Her eyes were filled with rapidly swirling emotions as she tugged it gently over his head, her hand pausing over his heart. "Dean?" Her voice was barely a whisper.
He took the shirt from her and pulled it over his head. He felt weary, drained. And her troubled voice, her pleading eyes, seemed to suck him into the void he felt between them. "Yeah," he said, not looking at her, though he had taken her hand, squeezing it gently.
"Promise me that..." She lifted her hands to his face, making him look at her. "That you won't leave me."
His hand clamped down on hers. "You know I'm never going to," he rasped, hurt that she might have any doubt about that.
"I wouldn't get through it," she whispered, her voice strained.
He gazed intently at her. "And what makes you think I'd live if we were separated?" He kissed her gently, keeping his anger at bay.
"Not...like that." She touched his cheek, closing her eyes and letting the mental walls drop, letting him see everything that had happened in the day that wasn't.
The images she shot at him bombarded his mind, bringing angry tears to his eyes. The blood. It was everywhere: on her hands, her shirt, on him. He watched her weeping over his body, cold and pale from the exsanguination. He blinked several times before the image faded and he saw Chloe talking to his mother. "The hell?" he whispered, hearing Mary's words about this being a test. For Chloe.
To prove her worth.
He grasped onto Chloe's arms for support, stroking her with unseeing eyes.
She slid her arms around him tightly, burying her face against his shoulder.
He gasped for breath, as if the bullet had pierced his body again. "A... test? Bullshit..." He dragged in a deep breath, putting both hands on her head, pulling her face to his with another feral kiss. I'm not gonna leave you, he promised her. Never.
She kissed him back urgently, her fingers tangling in his hair. I was afraid I would fail, she admitted silently.
He broke the kiss, looking at her incredulously. "How the hell could you think that? You're good at everything you do." He smirked at her knowingly.
"But the stakes had never been this high before," she whispered, cupping his cheek with one hand. "Not for me."
He sighed and looked away for a second. "I know, but... Chloe, it was my mom. Since she wasn't a crossroads demon, she was there for a greater purpose. You're a part of us, don't you see that by now? She didn't need to test your worth for me to find you worth all the rubies in the world."
A faint smile touched her lips. "I love you," she whispered, kissing the corner of his mouth and resting her forehead against his.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Dean breathed in, entwining their fingers. Feeling her heartbeat echo in his soul. She belonged to him, just like he was hers. He smiled at the thought. "Come on, let's get back to the hotel where I can love you properly."
"You always do. Doesn't matter where we are," she whispered against his ear.
He smiled and looked into her eyes. "Then let's get back so I can strip you naked and enjoy washing the sand off your hot little body." His eyes shone wickedly at the thought.
She grinned involuntarily, winding her arms around his neck as he picked her up, her own eyes bright again, seeming to sparkle in the moonlight. "You're the only one I ever want," she whispered seriously.
He kissed her nose. "Good thing, because I'm an antique and break easily." He carried her quickly to the Impala, tucking her in the passenger seat. When he slid in next to her, he pulled her close to him, their bodies touching as he started the car, feeling the thrum of the engine beneath his feet.
She rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes as she slid her arm around his waist possessively.
Smiling and throwing an arm around her shoulder, pulling her flush against him, Dean drove off into the night towards the hotel, an image of a future with her flashing into his mind for a split second: it was the peace of relative normalcy he had craved his entire life... and possibly, Chloe was the key to that. His brother seemed to have found it in Sarah, so why not he and Chloe when they killed the Yellow-Eyed Demon and Lex Luthor?
"Come on, let's take Jo back to Ellen," he whispered, kissing the top of Chloe's head, keeping the car straight on the road.
Chloe nodded slightly, curling against him and closing her eyes. She didn't know what was to come. Right now, all that mattered was the present.