AN: If you haven't seen Superman II…first of all, what are you doing reading Clois fics? And second of all, I'm going to spoil it for you, so go and watch it! I don't know about any of you, but when I watch Superman II now, I keep trying to picture Brandon Routh and Kate Bosworth in the Fortress. Christopher Reeve was a great Superman, but I'm so into Brandon right now that it's pathetic!
I was told I need to put a warning at the start of this. Some of this section is heavy on the mature side of things. So if you are under age, don't read this. And if you are at work, you might want to wait until you are home or you are sure no co-workers are going to spot your computer! The rating will change on this fic to that of M, which means the fic will no longer show up on the main list. Make sure you add me to your alert list so you can find the next update!
Again, thanks to htbthomas, sillybella, and Hellish. You all ROX!!
Part Two
With the most tender, most gentle touch, his mouth met mine in a heart-stopping kiss. Breaking away ever so slightly, he repositioned his mouth against mine and kissed me fully, deeply, until I was dizzy with desire. It was electrifying. My mind reeled as I clung to him and pulled him closer to me, never wanting the kiss to end.
Suddenly and without warning, I remembered being kissed like this once before - this slow, intense kiss that demanded both my body and soul to respond in such a meaningful way. He'd kissed me like this years ago…after he'd defeated Zod…after I'd figured out who he was…after we had made love for the first time.
I gasped and pulled away from him, stunned as one by one the memories came flooding back into my mind, clicking into place. The Fortress – so white and beautiful. His mother – Lara – asking if this was really what he wanted. And him – stepping into a chamber and becoming mortal, all because he loved me.
My breath hitched as I realized once and for all everything he had given up for me.
And then I remembered us. I remembered his touch – his kiss – his body. I remembered the way his skin felt against mine, the way his body responded to my touch, the way it felt to have him above me…inside me. The power of those memories swept over me in a tidal wave of emotion, making me gasp in awe of it all.
I looked into his face, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Oh, Clark."
He was still cupping my face in his hands, and I reached up and covered his hands with mine. "You remember?" he asked softly.
I nodded, unable to find the words that did justice to what I was feeling. Because I remembered everything now. I remembered the agony of thinking he was dead and the overwhelming joy that he was still alive. I remembered how hopeless I felt when I thought his powers were taken from him a second time, as well as the triumph I felt once I realized it had all been a trick. And then I remembered the day after…when I realized he would never be a part of my life the way I wanted him to be. That we could never be together. That I would have to spend the rest of my life pretending that I didn't love him as deeply as I did. And it broke me.
For the first time in my life, I understood why he did what he did – why he took my memories of those ephemeral days away. I laughed at him once for saying that he did it because he loved me and wanted me to be happy, but now I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he was telling the truth. I couldn't blame him any longer for taking those agonizingly blissful memories away.
I felt the tears roll down my cheeks, and he lovingly brushed them away with his thumbs. "Are you very angry at me?" he said in a shaky voice so uncharacteristic of him. "You said that you wanted to remember. Are you angry at me for showing you?"
"No," I managed. "How could I be angry with you when you've given me so much?"
His face softened. "I do love you, Lois. So much"
"I know. I know that now more than ever."
His breathing was shallow, and then I noticed that mine was too. My heart felt as if it might leap out of my chest it was beating so rapidly. The air was charged with physical electricity and time seemed to slow as he drew me closer to him.
"I – I—" He wet his lips as his hands slipped down my sides to my waist. "Lois, I—"
I was done talking. I was done waiting. Forcefully, I took his face in my hands and pulled him to me, kissing him with all the love I felt in my body. I wove my hands through his thick hair, holding him to me as our tongues dueled for control. His chest was pressed against mine, and I reveled in the feel of having him this close. But it wasn't enough. I wanted more. I needed him closer.
In a movement that shocked even myself, I slid my bent leg, which was currently trapped between us, out and around to the side. It didn't even take him an instant to realize what I had done and the message behind this new position. His hand slid down my leg that was draped over the edge of the bed and pulled it up so that I was now straddling him. Slowly, carefully, never halting his passionate kisses, he lowered me to the bed until I was fully beneath him.
Our bodies touched from head to foot. Our mouths were fused together in a heated kiss. His hands wandered down my sides, scraping his fingers against my breasts and causing me to shiver in delight. Our legs entwined, fighting for space and the correct angle to bring us even closer together. I bent one leg up along his side and wrapped my other one around one of his legs, bringing our hips together in a blinding moment of passion. To my joy, he pressed himself hard against me and then repeated the action, making me wish he would rip his clothing off so that we could do this properly.
His hand found its way under my shirt to my bare skin. His touch was so gentle it made me ache for more. He covered my breast with his palm and squeezed gently, letting go just long enough to tease my nipple into a hard peak and drive me wild in the process. I arched upward, begging him for more. He kneaded the flesh of my breast again, sending a stream of pleasure through my body as he increased the pressure of his touch. I moaned in utter delight, completely lost in the feel of his warm hands on my body and wanting more than ever to feel his skin against mine.
And then it was over. He moved away from me so quickly I didn't have a chance to protest. "I can't do this, Lois," he mumbled into a pillow. He collapsed flat on his stomach, keeping his face turned away from me. "I just can't," he panted.
I scowled in displeasure. "Yes you can, Clark."
He shook his head, but didn't turn to look at me. "No, really. I can't. I don't want to hurt you."
"Too late," I sighed. "You just did."
Abruptly, his head turned so that he could look at me with despair. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.
"This is ridiculous, Clark!" I grumbled. "I know that you have certain rules and that there are things you just aren't supposed to allow yourself to have, but this… this…" I gaped at him. "I can't do this anymore!"
"This doesn't have anything to do with the rules, Lois," he said plainly. "I gave up trying to live by those rules a long time ago."
He had spoken so matter-of-factly that I was left feeling a bit stunned. "But I thought that you weren't supposed to-"
"Value one life over another?" he finished for me. "That's a little pointless considering how much I love you. You and Jason…and now Kate and little Eric… I can't help but value your livese over someone else's. If it came down to saving your life or saving some stranger, Lois, you have to know that you would win every time."
I bit at my bottom lip, mulling over what he was telling me, realizing how much it meant to me to hear him say it.
"And as far as interfering with human history," he continued calmly, tucking the pillow under his chin, "Well, that's pointless, too. I've often wondered just how I am supposed to save anyone's life while not interfering with human history. I mean, what if I save someone who was supposed to die? What if I save someone who goes on to be the President? Or ends up becoming a terrorist? Wouldn't that change history?"
He sighed and looked away from me. "And then there's Jason."
"Jason?"
"Saving a life is one thing. Creating a life is another." He looked over at me and smiled. "I have a son. And he has a son. Who knows how many generation will come after that. If that's not changing history, then I don't know what is."
I rolled onto my side and took his hand in mine. "When did you come to this conclusion?"
"Around the time Jason got married – when I told you the truth about who I was. I saw how happy he was with Kate. I saw him living a relatively normal life. Kate knows all of his secrets, and they don't seem to matter to her. She loves him and she helps keep his secrets. And they're happy… like a family should be. I realized that if I had made a few different choices, I could have had that kind of life."
My heart broke at the regret I heard in his voice and I needed to let him know that he hadn't lost out on everything. Scooting closer to him I said, "Clark, you can still have that kind of life."
His nose brushed against mine and his eyes fell closed. "No, Lois, I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because," he sighed heavily, opening his eyes. "I don't want to hurt you."
"The only way you could hurt me is to leave me again."
"That's not what I mean. I mean…hurt you…physically."
I finally understood, and my mouth formed an "o" in response.
"You don't know how careful I always am. Whenever I touch someone, I'm always very aware of how fragile they are in comparison to me. I could hurt you so easily. I could kill you, Lois. I constantly remind myself that I have to be gentle, and I don't think…" He groaned and buried his face in the pillow again.
"What?" I pressed. "Please tell me."
He rolled onto his side to face me. "It's very difficult, Lois. I can't concentrate. When you kiss me… I can't focus." His fingers brushed against my face. "You're so beautiful. And I want you so much. I want this so badly that I don't think I'll be able to remember to be gentle."
"Well," I sighed, "what if I don't want you to be gentle?"
He rolled his eyes. "Be serious, Lois."
"I am serious."
"So am I." He fell against the bed to lie on his back. "I just can't do this."
I wasn't going to give up without a fight. There had to be a way. I rested my hand on his chest and raised myself up on my elbow to look down at him. "You weren't hurting me just now."
"You groaned."
"In pleasure," I said, stating what I thought was the obvious. "Clark, what you were doing to me felt good and I responded to it vocally. That happens when people make love, you know."
He shook his head. "I know, but I just—"
"We've made love before and you didn't hurt me then."
He gave me a long, hard look. "I was mortal. I couldn't have hurt you."
I pressed my lips together, knowing he was right and hating it. And then the thought struck me… and it was an uncomfortable thought, but it was valid nonetheless. "Okay, this isn't exactly something I enjoy thinking about. In fact, I'm pretty sure most mothers would rather not think about this sort of thing, but I feel I need to point out that… Jason… makes love to Kate. He doesn't hurt her. At least… well… it's none of my business, I guess, but you see what I'm saying?"
"Lois," he said, stopping me from any saying more embarrassing comments. "I'm a lot stronger than Jason."
I frowned and fell back down to the bed. "I know."
We lay there silently for a moment, our hands clasped together and our sides touching. So close… and yet so far. And then he sat up, raking his hand through his hair and exhaling a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Lois."
He was giving up. And my heart stopped at the very idea that he might leave me and we'd never have this chance again. "What about—" I didn't want to bring this up, but I was desperate. "What about all the times in the past. What did you do then?"
He twisted around to look at me. "What do you mean?"
I sat up. "Well, what did you do… in other… situations?"
He frowned at me in honest confusion. "I don't understand. What other situations?"
I closed my eyes, not able to look at him as I said, "With other women. How did you… you know… control it then?"
"What other women?"
Was he being mean, making me say this? Was this payback? "Others… after me."
He blinked and locked eyes with mine. "Lois," he said almost reverently. "There wasn't anyone after you. There's never been anyone but you."
My heart skipped a beat as I wrapped my brain around his words. Surely he wasn't saying that I… that he… It had been years since we had been together. There had to have been someone else in his life. I couldn't think of anyone. I'd never seen him with anyone else. But still. It was unfathomable to even consider.
"Are you saying," I began, needing clarity on the situation, "that you've never been with anyone but me?"
He gave me a very pointed but loving look. "You're the love of my life. How could I be with someone that wasn't you? Anyone else would pale in comparison."
I exhaled slowly, staring at him in utter amazement and feeling as if my insides would melt from the sentiment of his words. I closed my eyes and shook my head, determined now more than ever that neither of us would leave this room tonight until we were completely ravished.
"That settles it," I stated. "We are going to make love."
He cocked is head to the side. "Lois—"
I moved to kneel on the bed next to him and push him slowly down to the mattress. "We are making love right here." Boldly, I straddled his hips. "Right now."
And we did.
