Away (Adult)

Title: Away
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Chlark
Spoilers/Timeline: Gemini AU
Disclaimer: I own very little, certainly not these characters. Please don’t sue!
Author’s Note: So I didn’t absolutely despise Gemini, because it could have been a good thing if the show had writers that understood continuity or character development. I still had to do a Chlark rewrite. Imagine Clark never got grounded by dad and Sprint got reception in elevators. -

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She’s watching the timer. Thirty seconds to go, and she’s made peace with everything else in her life. One more person left, and it kills her that she has to do this in front of Jimmy.

“Come on, Clark. Pick up, pick up, pick up!” She gets his voicemail for the third time in a row. Now or never…

“You’ve reached Clark Kent. Please leave a message.”

“God, Clark. I didn’t want to do this on your voicemail. I’m so sorry. Please don’t blame yourself. Please be happy. I’ve always loved you.”

She hits the [End] button and huddles close to Jimmy. “I love you, Bright Eyes.”

She closes her eyes. “I love you, too.”

There’s a flash, and she feels the first blast of heat. The roar is deafening, and the sudden silence is…extremely disorienting. As is the crisp winter wind.

What the hell?

She opens her eyes. She’s still huddling close to Jimmy, but now they’re sitting on the park bench in front of the Daily Planet.

She’s pretty sure Jimmy Olsen just peed himself. She’s not sure she didn’t.

She looks up at the building, expecting to see flames and panicking partygoers, but nothing seems out of the ordinary. That’s when she spots a slightly disheveled and definitely singed Clark Kent peeking out from the alley.

How he got the message in time to figure it out is beyond her, but she’s ridiculously grateful to be breathing.

--

Five hours into 2008, and she’s managed to convince Jimmy that she didn’t know the extent of her powers, but no, she’s pretty sure she can’t grant him a repeat performance tonight. They’re just lucky to be alive.

Her car is on the bottom floor of the parking garage, but she only makes it to the stairwell before Clark stops her. Even in the dark, she can tell it’s him by the scent of barbeque emanating from his clothes.

“Chloe.”

“Jeeze, Clark. I wasn’t jumpy enough with the freaking bomb going off?”

“Are you okay?”

“Besides still shaking like a leaf, I’m great.”

He practically engulfs her in a hug, and she realizes she’s not the only one trembling.

“I was so scared.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s my line.”

There’s moisture in her hair and on her shoulder, and she wouldn’t dream of calling the big, tough alien on it, but…

“Are you okay, Clark?”

“Chlo.” His voice sounds strangled. “I almost lost you. I can’t lose you again.”

He pulls back, smoothing her hair and caressing her face with his sooty hands. She’s probably covered in enough ash to pass for special ops when his huge, gentle hands still and he looks into her eyes with an intensity she’s only seen when the world was ending.

Before she can register what’s happening, his lips meet hers, parting and seeking entrance for one of the most mind-blowing kisses of her life.

Gasping, she finally comes up for air.

“I’m lost without you.”

“Uh...Okay?”

He captures her for another kiss, and she can’t deny herself this, no matter how much her curiosity burns. It’s when he presses himself into her, the proof of his longing between them, that the reality of the situation hits her like a sledgehammer.

She pushes him back. “Clark…Lana.”

Obviously, his kisses cause brain damage. She’s lost all her words.

He brings his forehead to hers. “I know. I have to keep her distracted. After tonight, it’s obvious Lex isn’t fooled, but if both of them are gunning for you, I’m not sure I can protect you. She knows too much.

“I keep hoping she can be saved, but she scares the crap out of me, Chlo.” He nuzzles her nose with his own, breathing deeply. “I…I know I shouldn’t do this to you, when there’s no decent way out. I’m so sorry. I just wanted…God, I needed to feel you alive.”

Her heart is thumping wildly in her chest, and she winds her hand to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss this time.

“Clark, take me away. And I mean Far. Away.”

In a blink, she finds herself staring into an early morning haze. An ocean breeze washes over her and she snuggles more tightly into his warmth.

They stay like that for a few minutes, serenaded by the sound of surf and sea birds. She finally lifts her head to meet his gaze as he gently lowers her to the sand.

“Where?” She whispers.

“Florida.”

“Is anyone…?”

“No. No one.”

She watches the play of his jaw as he tries for restraint, and offers him a small smile to let him know it’s okay. They’re okay.

He searches her eyes almost frantically, and he must see what he hoped for, because a tentative smile plays at his lips. They capture hers for a scorching kiss a moment later.

In seconds, they’re pressing, exploring. He stumbles back and she lands on top of him. Her hands are everywhere, trying to memorize the play of muscles under his shirt. His find her ass, grinding her into him almost desperately.

His strangled cry undoes her, and suddenly, she’s scrambling frantically at the charred remains of his clothes, while his large fingers struggle with the buttons on her coat.

If this is the only chance she gets to feel cherished by Clark Kent, she’s grabbing it without hesitation.

She’s sitting astride him wearing nothing at all in moments, and she covers his body with her own. He marks her with his teeth, his tongue. Marks her heart with his care.

He sits up and they’re struggling for dominance, tangled in their passion. He’s trembling again when she positions herself over his cock. The intensity of his gaze as she lowers herself onto him gives her chills. She can see the gooseflesh on his arms, and she can feel forever radiating from her core.

He’s bigger than anything she’s taken in her limited experience, but she’s so ready he slides home like he belongs there in one steady stroke. Their mutual sighs sound like a prayer, and she drops her head back because she can’t do anything else.

A gasp, then another, and she recovers from the initial rapture enough to meet his stare again. She rises slowly and lowers herself again, and again, establishing a slow, steady pace. His jaw clenches and his nostrils flare as he fights for control, his eyes never leaving hers.

It’s too perfect. So good she can already feel the ecstasy burning a path from her core to her fingertips, her toes, threatening to fill her to overflowing with mingled longing and satisfaction. She can’t contain her cries when he changes the angle to penetrate more deeply, straining against her cervix with every pass.

Their rhythm stays maddeningly slow, as if he refuses to rush this no matter what his body demands, and his skin is damp with sweat. The control is obviously taking its toll.

She can’t hold back. “I…oh, God. I…ah…love you.”

“Love you…so…f*cking…much.” His voice is gravel.

He keeps the steady pace, but she can’t help increasing the pressure. She grinds into him with everything she has until her back arches reflexively and she screams his name.

He practically devours the breast she inadvertently presents him with, and oblivion seems to go on forever. When she comes back to her senses, he’s finally increased the pace and is crying out in anguished pleasure with every upward thrust.

His hands hold her hips more tightly. It should scare the crap out of her, but the realization of how much strength he has to control just to touch her catapults her back to the edge again.

He comes deep inside her with a roar, taking her with him and trying to swallow his shocked ecstasy. She doesn’t stop, can’t stop moving with him until the last pulse rushes through her.

When they finally still, she follows him down and continues to rain kisses along his jaw without letting go. Her heart is beating so wildly it’s a wonder she can still hear the surf.

She’s gasping and staring at the perfect gold of his skin against the sand. It’s really all the pondering her brain is up for right now. She nuzzles him, pressing her lips to his collarbone distractedly while she continues to ponder skin and sand. She adds the perfect curl of dark hair at the nape of his neck to her musings.

After enjoying the view a while, she drags her hand up his body and over his shoulder to wind the perfect curl around her fingers. It’s as soft as it looks. Probably has the tensile strength of bailing wire.

“Huh.”

“Mmph?” Clark’s been busy alternating between tracing random patterns into the skin of her back and running his fingers trough her short hair.

God, she’s probably got sooty fingerprints everywhere by now. Stupid bomb.

Her internal muscles clench at him unconsciously. This can’t end. Not now that she knows what she’s been missing.

She presses another kiss into his shoulder and continues idly toying with the curl as she turns her head to pillow on his shoulder.

Even filthy, he has a fantastic profile. She could stare all day.

He looks down and smiles shyly, the dimples practically melting her insides.

“It’s settled.”

“What’s settled?”

“I’m never leaving this spot.”

He smiles, but she sees his eyes darken. He pulls her tighter against him and presses a kiss into her hair.

Reality sucks.

He would never leave the entire city of Metropolis to deal with the fallout of Lex and Lana by itself, and she can’t very well let the Luthor crimes against humanity slide unchecked, herself.

The weight of that knowledge leaves her gasping and clinging to him. She’s holding everything she’s ever wanted, and she knows she has to give it all up.

In another time, they could have been soul mates. In another place, they would have been partners, in every sense of the word.

Today, they are refugees of a fate lost to the world. Here, the darkness wins.

Tomorrow is a different story.

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End