Title: Dangerous
Author: The Fallen Sky
Rating: M
Pairing: Chlark
Summary: Love can be dangerous. Just ask Chloe.
Warning: Sexual situations and references
A/N: This is an AU Chlark one-shot, and it's told from Chloe's POV. It takes place sometime during season 3. Also, things happened differently at the end of season 1 and during season 2, namely Clark told Chloe his secret in a bid not to lose her at the end of season 1, and they've been a couple ever since. Oh, and Chlark are 17 years old in this story.

Feedback is welcome. Enjoy!

She exits the salon and spots him sitting on a nearby bench, his head hung low, his shoulders slumped, obviously in full mope-mode.

She sighs in mild frustration, but she's in a good mood and won't let him bring her down. In fact, she's determined to get him out of his funk.

With a smile on her face and a bounce in her step, she makes her way over to him. Her voice is cheery when she speaks.

"How do I look?"

He raises his head, briefly meeting her eyes before looking at her new haircut. His eyes go wide, and he immediately looks away, his voice full of shame and remorse. "I'm so sorry, Chlo."

Rolling her eyes at his continued self-flagellation, her voice is still cheery as she responds, "I know you're sorry, Clark, and I've told you a million times, it's okay. I'm not upset."

Sheepishly, he looks at her as if to confirm her sincerity, and she gives him a brilliant smile, which apparently does the trick, because he manages a small smile of his own in return.

Satisfied that she's made her point, she asks again, "How do I look?"

He looks her straight in the eye, his voice filled with reverence and wonder as he says, "Beautiful."

Her heart skips a beat, her cheeks flush, and her insides melt. She can't help herself and leans down to place a soft, lingering kiss on his lips. Just as she's about to pull back, he pulls her down onto his lap and wraps his arms loosely around her waist, kissing her with ever greater intensity.

After several very long moments, they finally break the kiss, each slightly out of breath and smiling like the lovesick teenagers they are.

Once she's able to think clearly, she finds her voice, "That's very sweet, Clark, but I was referring to my new haircut."

Looking sheepish and blushing a little, he says in a small voice, "I know."

Finding him absolutely adorable and unable to resist, she steals a quick kiss before asking, "So, do you like my new 'do?"

Slowly and reverently, he runs a hand through her tightly cropped hair, feeling the bristly softness of her silken strands as they slip between his fingers.

The feel of his hand running through her hair and the heat of his fingers against her scalp make her shiver, and she bites her lip to keep from moaning.

She's almost completely forgotten her question when his voice brings her back into focus.

"It's really short."

He pauses for a moment, his hand still stroking her hair, and their eyes meet causing an electric anticipation to build between them before he finally finishes with, "I love it."

She searches his eyes for any measure of deception, but there is none. Again, her heart melts, and she can't help herself as she leans in and kisses him tenderly.

Pulling back, she sighs contentedly before saying, "I'm glad you approve." She pauses a moment, giving him a dazzling smile before continuing. "I have to admit, I was a little worried that it might be too short, but it's not like I really had a choice."

She immediately regrets her words when she sees the light in his eyes dim and his smile fade.

He's about to apologize for the ten millionth time, but she cuts him off.

"Don't you dare say you're sorry, Clark."

Her words and tone are harsher than she intended, judging by his flinch and kicked puppy look, but she's sick and tired of him apologizing for an accident.

Cupping his face in her hands and gently stroking his cheeks with her thumbs, she attempts to ease his guilt and reassure him, again.

Looking him in the eye and with a gentle but firm voice she says, "This is the last time I'm going to say this, so listen and believe me. I don't blame you for what happened. It was an accident. I'm not upset. And if you don't stop apologizing and moping, I will kick your ass. Got it?"

Judging by the look in his eyes, she's certain he understands and believes her, and it's not likely he'll be apologizing again, but she's also certain that he won't stop feeling guilty, at least not for a while.

Nonetheless, he nods his understanding and says in a quiet voice, "Got it."

In an attempt to soothe his spirit and ease his guilt, she leans in and kisses him, softly and lovingly.

Pulling back, she slides her hands from his face, her arms going around his neck, and begins playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, while giving him her most brilliant smile and saying, "Good."

He can't help but smile back and gives her a gentle squeeze in appreciation for her caring and understanding.

Silence stretches between them as they stare into each other's eyes and simply enjoy being in each other's arms.

The silence is broken when he speaks, "I know you're not upset, and I'm not gonna apologize again, but I'd be a terrible boyfriend if I didn't tell you that I'm worried about your safety."

A wave of dread washes over her, because she knows what he's about to say, and while she appreciates the sentiment, she's tired of having to allay his fears and reassure him that she's not going anywhere. But, she's gonna let him say his piece, because at least then he won't be holding anything in, which always leads to him brooding or moping or both.

He takes a deep breath and presses on. "This isn't the first time being with me has gotten you hurt. I mean, you had to wear an eye patch for two weeks, because..."

She interrupts him so she won't have to hear the inevitable, 'because of me'. "...because I was giving you a blowjob, and instead of letting you come in my mouth, I pulled back and got blasted in the eye by your baby batter. Yes, it hurt, and I had to wear an eye patch, and I really didn't like having to answer all the 'What happened to your eye?' questions, but I'm fine. There was no permanent damage, and now, when I give you a blowjob, I only let you come in my mouth, and I always swallow."

She finishes with a wicked glint in her eye and an impish smirk, which causes him to turn several shades of red.

Gathering himself and conceding the point, he continues. "Okay, but you were on crutches for two months, because..."

Again, she interrupts him. "...because you were munching on my muff, and your extremely talented tongue was driving me insane with pleasure, which caused me to thrash around wildly, and you grabbed my leg in an effort to restrain me so you could continue your oral magic, but I only thrashed more, so you squeezed harder and accidentally broke my leg. Yes, it hurt, and I was in a cast and on crutches for two months, but I'm fine. My leg is as good as new, and now, when you're feasting on my womanhood, instead of thrashing around wildly, I simply wrap my thighs around your head and squeeze, and if that's not enough, I claw at your scalp and pull your hair and scream a lot."

The same wicked glint is in her eye, and the impish smirk is back, and he's just as red as before, maybe more so.

It takes him a little longer to gather himself this time, but he again concedes the point and continues, his voice a little husky and kinda strained. "Okay, but you got a concussion and needed six stitches, because..."

Once again, she interrupts him. "...because I was riding you hard, like a bucking bronco, and my orgasm hit, and my inner muscles clamped down on you, which sent you over the edge, and you thrust up into me with so much force that you sent me flying, head first, into the ceiling. Yes, it hurt, and I got a concussion and needed six stitches to close the gash on my head, but I'm fine. There are no lingering effects from the concussion, and you can't even tell where I was cut, because there's no scar, and now, when I ride you, I always wear my cowboy boots with the spurs and make sure to hold on extra tight so you don't buck me off when you get off."

Her wicked glint and impish smirk are even more wicked and impish, because he's not just turning red, he's getting hard.

It takes him even longer to gather himself, but he concedes the point and continues, his voice rough, strained and tinted with lust. "O-kay, but this last time your hair caught on fire, because..."

She interrupts him one last time. "...because I was on all fours, and you were taking me from behind, pounding away through three of my orgasms, and when you exploded inside me, you accidentally let loose a burst of heat vision, setting my hair on fire. It didn't actually hurt, and it wasn't even all that scary, because you put it out almost instantly, but it did damage my hair, which resulted in me having to get it cut and ending up with my new ultra-short 'do, which you love, and next time, when you take me from behind, I know, should you happen to release more than come, that you'll aim it away from me and set something else on fire."

Her eyes are now filled with lust, and her smirk is sultry, because he's rock hard and lightly grinding his erection against her bottom, and the redness in his cheeks isn't from embarrassment but from arousal.

Not caring that they're sitting on a bench in full view of anyone passing by, she repositions herself on his lap, aligning her denim-clad sex with the large bulge in his jeans and begins slowly grinding.

To her delight, he slides his hands inside the waist of both her jeans and panties, cupping her firm bottom, giving each cheek a gentle squeeze as he grinds harder against her.

A rush of liquid heat dampens her panties, and she presses her body closer to him, flattening her chest against his, her tight, sensitive nipples sending jolts of electricity to her core as they rub against the lacy fabric of her bra.

The thrill of dry-humping in public only adds to her excitement and heightens her arousal, and it's not long before she feels her orgasm approaching. He must sense it, too, because he removes one of his hands from her pants, slipping it under her shirt and sliding it up her back, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake. Despite the closeness of their bodies, he somehow manages to get his hand between them and slips it under her bra, kneading her breast.

She's teetering on the edge, all rational thought gone from her mind, when she hears him whisper her name and tumbles into the abyss of ecstasy. Her scream is halted by his lips on hers as her body trembles and quivers from her release.

By the time she's able to think again, his hands are no longer inside her clothes and are again wrapped loosely around her waist, and the hardness in his jeans is rapidly softening, no doubt leaving a sticky mess in the aftermath of his own orgasm.

Her head is resting comfortably against his shoulder as both of them continue to come down from their high, a cocoon of post-coital bliss surrounding them. She's so comfortable here that she could fall asleep and actually begins to drift slightly when his voice, soft and filled with awe, breaks the silence.

"That was...wow."

She can't help the smile that graces her lips at his succinct and very apt description of their impromptu public tryst and sighs dreamily before snuggling closer to him to signal her agreement.

Comfortable silence again envelopes them only to be broken several minutes later by his disbelieving and slightly panicked voice.

"Chloe. We just had sex in public."

Knowing full well that they did and the possible repercussions of it but not caring in the least, she merely presses closer to him, moaning slightly before responding in a dreamy voice, "Mmm, we sure did."

Sounding even more concerned and panicked but not moving a muscle, he says, "We...just had...sex...in public."

Smiling at how adorable he is when he's flustered, she presses a tender kiss to his neck before replying in a calm, satisfied voice, "And you were amazing."

Expecting further protest and continued freaking out, she's surprised when she first feels and then hears him laughing.

Lifting her head from his shoulder, she looks at him with a curious expression on her face, to which he responds with even heartier laughter. She continues to stare at him for several more moments before she breaks out in her own fit of laughter.

They continue their mirthful moment until he leans in, capturing her lips with his own and kissing her with such tenderness and love that she wants to cry and rip his clothes off and make passionate love to him all at once. Instead, she settles for returning his kiss with equal tenderness and love.

They break the kiss only when a passerby snorts in disgust and tells them to 'Get a room.'

Smiling sheepishly at one another, she says, "That's not a bad idea."

He quirks an eyebrow at her, and she continues, "In fact, my dad is working the late shift tonight at the plant, so I'll have the whole house to myself." She pauses, giving him doe eyes and sounding oh-so innocent as she says, "I'll be awfully lonely."

Smiling like a fool and trying to sound like the gallant boyfriend, he says, "Don't worry. I'll come over and keep you company."

Still sounding innocent but with a mischievous look in her eye, she says, "Oh, you'll be coming all right."

His response is a growing hardness in his pants, an orange glow in his eyes and a passionate kiss that takes her breath away and promises all manner of sinful delight when they're alone and behind closed doors.

Upon the ending of the kiss, she crawls out of his lap and stands up, straightening her clothes before extending a hand, which he takes, and pulling him to his feet.

Wrapping her arm around his waist, she snuggles into his side and looks up at him, saying, "We need to stop at the grocery store. There are a few things I wanna pick up for tonight."

He wraps his arm around her shoulders and, meeting her gaze, asks, "Like what?"

Responding matter-of-factly, she says, "Ice cream, chocolate sauce and some strawberries."

Giving her a curious look, he asks, "Are we gonna make sundaes?"

Smiling seductively, she says in a sultry voice, "No, but we are gonna be enjoying some sweet treats."

Not quite understanding where she's going, he merely looks at her, to which she responds in the same sultry voice, "I thought I might like a chocolate, farmboy milk shake, and you can have a slice of my pie topped with strawberries."

It takes a moment for realization to dawn, but when it does, he turns seven shades of red, which causes her to smile and laugh and kiss him for being the same sweet farmboy she fell in love with, despite his not being so innocent, especially since they started dated.

As they walk to the store, their arms around one another and him walking rather awkwardly thanks to his trying to conceal his obvious erection, he says, "Aren't you afraid I'll hurt you again when we're...you know?"

She nonchalantly responds, "Nope."

Hearing his unasked question and feeling his eyes on her, she continues, "I love you, Clark, and I wanna be with you, in every way imaginable. If that means I suffer the occasional injury while we're having sex, then so be it."

In awe of her and sounding as such, he says, "Really?"

Smiling up at him, she responds, "Yes, really. Being with you may be dangerous, but it's sooo worth it."

Overcome with joy, he stops and kisses her for all he's worth.

When he pulls back, he looks her in the eye and says in a voice filled with sincere, raw emotion, "I love you, Chloe Sullivan."

His pronouncement permeates her soul and fills her with a joy and contentment that she's never known before, so much so that her eyes fill with happy tears, and she kisses him, pouring every ounce of her heart and soul into it, trying to convey just how much he means to her.

When they break apart, she looks him in the eye and whispers, "I love you too, Clark Kent."