Title: Cursed
Author: The Fallen Sky
Rating: M
Pairing: Chlark
Summary: Chlark believe they're cursed, but are they really?
Warning: This is kinda angsty, and the smut is more classy than smutty.
A/N: This takes place in a future AU. There is no Clois or Chlollie, but Lois knows Clark is Superman.


He's nervous, nervous but excited.

After so many years, he's finally going to take a chance. He's finally going to tell her exactly how he feels.

They've been friends forever, and he knows that she's had feelings deeper than friendship for him in the past. He just hopes she still does. That's why he's nervous. He's not sure how she feels, and the thought of her not returning his feelings has his heart pounding like a jackhammer in his chest.

He takes deep, calming breaths as he approaches her apartment.

Calm down, he tells himself. She's not going to reject you. She loves you. And even if she doesn't return your feelings, she'll still love you. She'll still be your friend.

He's not sure if his mental pep talk helped, but he's going to do this, nerves or no nerves.

He clutches the bouquet of roses in his left hand and moves to knock on her door with his right.

Just before his hand makes contact, it stops.

His entire body goes rigid.

Time stops.

His heart shatters in his chest.

Time resumes.

Instead of knocking, his hand falls limply to his side.

He turns and starts back the way he came, shoulders slumped in defeat.

The nervous excitement he felt mere moments before, is replaced by a numbing cold that spreads throughout his body before settling in his heart.

Once outside, he makes his way to the alley next to the apartment building.

His mind is blank as he staggers dazedly down the alleyway, but when he comes to a dumpster, he stops.

He turns his attention to the roses still gripped tightly in his left hand.

He brought those for her. He was going to give them to her as a symbol of his love. Instead, they're just a bitter reminder of what a fool he is. They mock and taunt him. He can hear them laughing at him, because he is the butt of the cruelest of all jokes…love.

Without looking, he tosses the roses into the dumpster and trudges onward.

The numbness and pain in his heart slowly turns to anger.

Why? He asks himself. Why does fate always treat me like shit? Why am I not allowed to be happy? Why must I always be alone?

The answer is clear. He's cursed.

His anger turns to rage, and he tears his clothes from his body, revealing the ever present reminder of his burden, his destiny.

His rage boils over, and he lets loose a primal roar, which shakes the surrounding buildings and rattles their windows, before leaping into the sky and rocketing toward the stars.


She's got a huge smile on her face as she strolls into work. She's brimming with an electric energy that suffuses every fiber of her being.

She thinks, Today is gonna be a great day.

When she reaches her desk, her cousin is there to greet her.

"Wow, looks like someone's in a good mood."

Megawatt smile still in place, she replies, "You have no idea."

"So, I take it things went well last night?"

Her smile takes on a hint of devilishness as she replies, "You could say that."

Lois wraps her arms around Chloe, giving her the hugest hug ever. "I'm so happy for you, Chlo. It's about time you two got your shit together and made things official."

While surprised by the hug, Chloe is confused by Lois' statement. "Ah, Lois? What are you talking about?"

Pulling back from the hug, Lois grips Chloe's shoulders and answers, "I'm talking about last night silly. You two finally hooked up, and it's about fucking time if you ask me."

Chloe's confusion is evident by the frown on her face. "How did you know Bruce and I hooked up last night?"

Now Lois is confused. "Wait…what?"

"After I interviewed him, we went to dinner. We had a few drinks and a few laughs, and before I knew it, we were back at my place. I'll leave what happened next to your imagination." She says the last part with a smirk.

Lois' confusion turns to dread as the reality of the situation hits her.

"You mean Clark didn't stop by last night?"

Now Chloe's confused. "Clark? Why would he have stopped by last night?"

Lois debates whether or not to tell Chloe the truth but decides honesty is the best policy.

Her voice full of trepidation, Lois explains. "Chloe, last night, Clark was going over to your place, because he wanted to tell you…"

At Lois' hesitation, Chloe prompts her. "Tell me what? What was he going to tell me?"

With sadness in her voice, Lois continues. "He was going to tell you…that he loves you."

Chloe is stunned. She's certain her jaw is hanging open and her eyes are bugging out of her head.

Expecting Chloe's reaction, Lois elaborates. "I noticed he was acting kinda strange, well, strange for him, and I asked him what his deal was. After some prodding and a lot of threats, he finally told me."

"At first, I couldn't believe it, didn't believe. I actually lectured him about toying with your emotions and that if he did it again, I'd kick his ass. But when I looked into his eyes, I could tell he was serious."

Looking Chloe directly in the eye, Lois says with absolute sincerity and conviction, "Chloe, Clark is in love with you."

Chloe's heart is racing, and her body's gone numb. Her mind is blank, save for one thought that pings around inside her head; Clark is in love with me.

She's completely lost to that one thought, and it takes Lois several minutes to get her attention.

"Chloe?" Lois' voice is soft and filled with concern. "Are you alright?"

Coming back to herself, Chloe immediately goes into damage control mode.

"Lois, are you sure Clark was going to tell me he's in love with me?"

Lois nods.

"Are you sure he was going to do it last night?"

Lois nods again.

"Were there any emergencies that could have prevented him from making it?"

Knowing Chloe is asking if Superman was needed last night, Lois shakes her head.

With each answer Lois gives, Chloe's panic rises.

"Have you seen Clark today?"

Lois shakes her head.

"Do you know if he came into work today?"

Lois answers in a small voice, "No one's seen him. I…I thought he was with you."

Chloe's breathing becomes labored, and she's on the verge of a full-on freak out.

Reaching into her purse, she retrieves her phone and calls Clark.

With each ring, she says a silent prayer, hoping that he didn't show up at her apartment last night.

After several rings, she gets his voicemail.

"Hi, you've reached Clark Kent. I'm not available now, but leave a message and I'll get back to you."

She's not sure what to say. Somehow, 'Hey, Clark. You probably heard me having sex with some other guy last night when you stopped by to profess your love for me, but I want you to know that he means nothing to me and that I'm in love with you,' just doesn't seem appropriate. So she says with a shaky voice, "Hi, Clark. It…it's Chloe. Call me back when you get this. I think we need to talk."


She's crying again. She's been doing that a lot over the last couple of days.

She was never able to reach Clark after finding out that he had planned to tell her he loves her. She called and called, left message after message, but he never responded. She went to his apartment and to the farm, but he was nowhere to be found.

Finally, she tried tracking the GPS on his phone, and it led her to the alley next to her apartment building.

She found his phone along with the remnants of his torn clothes.

At first, she thought something may have happened to him, but a more thorough search revealed a dozen roses lying in the dumpster not far from his personal effects.

Her worst fear was confirmed. He had come to see her the night before. He brought roses, and he was going to tell her that he loves her, but when he got to her apartment, he heard her having sex with another man.

She can only imagine how devastated he must have been. The discarded roses and shredded clothes tell her more than she ever wanted to know.

There's been no sign of Clark Kent or Superman since that day, and she's worried she may never see either of them again.

Why? She asks herself. Why is fate so cruel? Why, when the man I love finally loves me back, does everything go to hell? Why can't I be happy?

The answer is simple. She's cursed.


Superman returned a week after 'the incident', as Chloe refers to it, but Clark is still MIA. He hasn't been to work or to his apartment or to the farm. He hasn't spoken with anyone, not Lois, not even his mother. She knew he wouldn't want to talk to her, but that doesn't mean she didn't hold out hope.

Life went on. She went to work, spent time with Lois and tried her best to move on with her life as if she didn't know what had slipped through her fingers.

But she couldn't move on. She couldn't get past the knowledge that the man she's loved most of her life was hers for the taking, but she was too busy screwing a man she couldn't care less about.

Lois has tried to tell her it's not her fault, that it was just bad timing, but Chloe knows better. She knows in her heart that she failed both herself and Clark.

It's been more than two months since 'the incident,' and Chloe's heart is still in pieces.

She wishes the pain would go away, but the pain reminds her of what could have been, and, in her most secret dreams, what may yet still be.

She hasn't given up, not on Clark, and not on them.

Each night, she goes to the roof of her apartment building, and she talks to him. She knows he's probably not anywhere near Metropolis most nights, but she also knows he can hear her. Whether or not he's actually listening is something she dare not think about lest she lose the last vestiges of hope she clings to in order to make it through the lonely days and empty nights.

Most nights, she's not sure what to say, so she talks about her day. She tells him about the stories she's working on and how Lois is doing. Sometimes, she talks about their time in high school, about all the adventures they used to have. And sometimes, when she feels as though her hope is fading, she talks about the future she wants to share with him.

After she's done talking, she waits and watches hoping against hope that this night will be the night he finally comes home to her. But he never comes.

Tonight is no different.

Disappointed but undeterred, she whispers, "I love you," and turns toward the door that leads back to her apartment, back to a cold empty bed. But instead of seeing the door, she sees him.

His eyes downcast, his shoulders slumped, cape fluttering lightly in the breeze, he looks every bit as sad and broken as she feels. She's never seen anything so beautiful.

She's elated that he's here, has wished and longed for it, but now that he is, she's not sure what to do. Normally, she's good with words, she's a journalist for crying out loud, and she's been talking to him for months, and yet her mind is blank.

In lieu of words, she takes a tentative step toward him, afraid any sudden movement will send him scurrying away.

He hasn't moved, so she takes another step and another until she's standing directly in front of him, close enough to touch him.

Slowly, she lifts her right hand, shaking with nervousness, and places it flat against his chest, directly over his heart.

She can feel his heart racing, just like hers. She closes her eyes and revels in the contact, feels his body heat suffuse her with warmth that spreads throughout her entire body, touching her very soul.

As she opens her eyes, she meets his. The emotion contained within those blue-green orbs conveys more than simple words ever could.

The world around them blurs, and they're in her bedroom. Her hand is still over his heart.

They continue to stare into each other's eyes, communicating without words.

The world blurs again, and she's lying on the bed with Clark hovering over her. Their clothes are gone, but her hand is still over his heart.

Eyes still locked, he takes her left hand in his right, interlacing their fingers.

The air is charged with electricity.

She gasps as he enters her, a sense of rightness settling over her as he fills her like she's never been filled before.

They stay silent as he moves slowly in and out of her, their gazes never wavering.

Each thrust is a profession of love and devotion, a confirmation of trust and commitment, an unspoken promise of eternity.

They pour everything they have into their lovemaking, every hope, every dream, every blessing, every curse.

Their rhythm is slow and steady, just as the entirety of their relationship has been.

Pleasure builds within them, growing, expanding, until it explodes, cascading over and through them.

The world falls away. All of the heartache, the pain, the loneliness, the longing, it's all washed away as their physical coupling transforms them, binding their spirits for all time.

As the pleasure recedes, a sense of peace and contentment settles over them.

A small smile appears on her lips and is joined by a matching smile on his.

Their eyes, still locked, begin to well with tears, not of sorrow, but of profound joy.

They may have been cursed to suffer apart, but their love has freed them to thrive together.