Title: Rule Bending
Category: Smallville/Batman Crossover
Rating: T
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Chloe/Bruce
Prompt: ache by ohocheese
Word Count: 1,187
Summary: She wanted to regret it, but couldn't.

Rule Bending
-Drabble-

She stared at the ceiling, wanting to regret it but unable to. The ache that reverberated through her was of the completely good kind. Still, there were boundaries and rules and they'd leapt right over those and into his bed. Which, she couldn't help but notice, was incredibly comfortable. She rolled onto her stomach, inhaling the deliciously male scent on the pillow. The sun peeking through the heavy curtains told her it far past morning, which didn't surprise her seeing as when they decided to hurtle over all things telling them it was a bad idea to sleep together, they thought it best to do it more than once just to prove some kind of point. Not that she was complaining; no where near it.

Waking up to find he wasn't there didn't surprise her either. He was, after all, a busy man; with two lives to live and a lot of pressure on his shoulders. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what it might've felt like to wake up in his arms. She couldn't believe she was in this place; months ago, she'd found him to be an arrogant, over-confident billionaire who wasn't willing to be a team player no matter the cost. She wanted to stuff Oliver's idea of a League recruitment down his throat and tell him to do it himself after only meeting Bruce Wayne once. But she was stubborn and she refused to back down, so she was back day after day, trying to tell him all the good things the League had accomplished and how much he could help. But he wasn't interested in the world, only Gotham. And she could understand his reasoning; the city itself was worse off then a lot of the worst parts of the world combined, but that didn't mean his skills couldn't be used for the whole.

As the months went on, the arrogance faded and she was privy to the real man behind the mask, which was dangerous, really. As this man didn't prick her temper but her interest. She told herself from day one, it would be completely business associated between them. She was there solely for the League and not to play sidekick to a brooding billionaire whose eyes, she swore, could see right into her soul. She shook off the chemistry between them, played down the attraction she constantly felt thrumming whenever they stood near each other, and pretended she didn't notice those small, real smiles he sent her when they were surrounded by fake people expecting a fake Bruce. She told herself it was completely normal that he constantly tucked her hair behind her ear for her or talked to her in his Batman voice, the one that sent chills down every inch of her body. It was normal that she found both sides of him attractive for different reasons, that she'd come to meld the two together and appreciated them both in a was that wasn't in the least bit professional.

And so, when they were talking business one night, which led to wine and conversations that had nothing to with the League or the life of a billionaire, she found herself letting those walls down, staring into those eyes that drew her to him so easily. And before she could process the pros and cons, he was kissing her and she was done for. She was putty in his hands as the first touch of his lips and she encouraged him as he lifted her from the settee in his office and brought her to his bedroom. She was all for his hands stroking up and down her body, touching places that ached for his calloused fingertips and smooth mouth. She arched into his grasp and jerked her hips to meet his, wanting more of him, all of him, inside of her and outside of her and a part of her.

Clothes were stripped away and she felt more naked than she ever had, physically and emotionally, lying there in front of Bruce Wayne and Batman and the man who made her feel things and think things that she told herself couldn't be done. She'd turned her heart away from heroes long ago; they had a tendency of handling her with gloves or ignoring her entirely. But he'd opened it back up when she let her guard down and despite being the type of guy who was set against getting into a relationship -it wasn't safe, was his prerogative- here he was, kissing every bare inch of her with such tender ferocity, she nearly orgasmed right then and there.

The huge expanse of his bed came in handy as they seemed to roll back and forth, fighting for dominance, relinquishing and then gaining it back, making love until they were so exhausted, she couldn't fathom moving. She fell into a deep sleep sometime before sunrise, to the stroke of his fingers over the small of her back and the continuous and melodic thump, thump of his heart. And now she was awake, trying to tell herself that the incredible ache left behind wasn't worth the consequences; trying to think of how to tell him it could never happen again, that it was never to be remembered or thought of; a distant mistake.

And then she felt the bad dip next to her and she didn't have to wonder who it was. His scent was even stronger now and she let her eyes close, breathing in that musky smell that made her toes curl beneath the sheet. He leaned across, his arm pressing into the bed next to her and then she felt his lips against her shoulder, soft and tender, arousing her with the simplest brush. He kissed along her back and up her neck, slow and sweet, and she couldn't remember why she ever wanted to stop. She rolled onto her back, smiling up at him sleepily as he half-smiled at her, lifting a brow.

"You're finally awake," he said, lowly.

She chuckled softly. "You're pretty exhausting."

His smile bloomed into a full smirk before he bent forward and caught her lips. "You weren't inactive."

She grinned, wrapping an arm around his neck and keeping him close. "We shouldn't do this." She kissed him, just a lingering peck.

He nodded agreeably. "Definitely shouldn't." His lips sought hers once more.

Her breathing picked up. "Bad idea." She nibbled his lower lip.

"Incredibly bad." He tangled his tongue with hers.

"I hate rules."

"Me too." He stripped the sheet away and laid down next to her, drawing her bare body up against him. His hand slid down her back, hooked around her thigh and dragged her leg up over his hip.

"We're not breaking them... exactly," she breathed, head falling back as he kissed down her neck. "Just bending them."

"Exactly." He nuzzled her chest with his nose and she sighed.

"Good."

"Great."

It was final then; they weren't doing anything wrong. They'd bend the rules just a little bit; enough for them to see where this might be going... She had a feeling it was somewhere worth exploring.