Disclaimer: "Smallville" and its characters belong to TRP Productions and
to the WB Network.
This story takes place one week after the prequel, "Sunday Afternoon Delight," and will make a little more sense if you read that one (rated PG- 13) first.
In short, it's about three weeks after "Vortex," a week and a few days after the end of the teens' freshman year...and Chloe comes to say goodbye to Clark before leaving for her summer internship at the Daily Planet.
"Sunday Afternoon Goodbye"
"Did you know..." Chloe started, settling in next to Clark on the couch in the Kent family living room, "...according to Kansas State Marriage statutes...that, with parental consent...men can get married as young as fourteen...and women as young as twelve?"
Clark almost did a classic TV comedy spit-take with his lemonade, but gulped and choked, instead. He coughed and sputtered, his eyes watered...and, for an instant, he found he couldn't breathe. Chloe, concerned that he was going to pass out right in front of her, pounded him on the back, until he gasped a deep breath and turned toward her, his green eyes wide.
"What?!" was all he could manage at first.
"It's just kind of an interesting factoid, don'tcha think?" she asked innocently. "Of course, without parental consent, both people have to be at least eighteen."
"Thank God," Clark muttered. He set his glass down on the coffee table, his hand visibly shaking. "What kind of research have you been doing now, Chlo?"
"Well, you know that I leave tomorrow for my summer internship at the Daily Planet? If I get a chance to actually write an article, I thought it might be interesting to do a story on marriage...how young is too young, you know?"
"Well, I know one thing...we're too young!"
She pulled a wry face and grinned at him. "Speak for yourself, farmboy!"
Clark relaxed back into the cushions of the sofa, intensely relieved to realize at last that she was teasing him. "Okay, Sullivan, if you're not too young to get married...who's the lucky guy?"
"Actually, there could be several candidates," she said, mock serious. "I've always thought Pete was very good-looking...those big, brown eyes."
"Pete?" Clark's eyebrows shot up.
"Or-r..." Chloe considered a moment, pretending she was thinking hard. "Maybe a more sophisticated, older man, like Lex...wealthy, educated, articulate, not to mention very handsome...in that Jean-Luc Picard 'commanding' sort of way."
Clark reached for his lemonade again, enjoying the game. "I think Lex would rather be captured by the Borg than get married again. Remember, his first trip down the aisle didn't turn out so well."
"Okay, then, if not Pete or Lex, there are other possibilities." Chloe ticked off names on her fingers. "Jason, Sean, Greg, Evan, Patrick..."
"Patrick?" Clark frowned. "The nerdy chess-player with the Coke- bottle glasses?"
Chloe punched him in the arm and he pretended to flinch. "Don't be so cocky, Kent. You might have to wear glasses someday."
"Yeah," Clark agreed. "Right after I learn to fly."
Chloe surprised him by tucking her arm through his and leaning her head against his shoulder. "I came over here on my last afternoon in Smallville for the summer to say a touching goodbye, Clark, and you're making fun of me."
Clark set his lemonade down again, wiped his damp hand on the knee of his jeans and snuggled closer to her. "I know," he admitted, grinning, "I'm heartless and unfeeling."
Chloe looked up at him, her eyes fixed on his full lower lip. Then she really did surprise him, causing his breath to catch in his throat, when she traced it with the tip of her index finger lightly, tantalizingly.
"I remember all too well what happened up in your loft last week, Clark," she whispered. "You're a long way from heartless...or unfeeling."
Clark was suddenly very glad that his parents had left just before Chloe's arrival, deciding to take in an afternoon movie over at the Grandville Multiplex. All he'd heard from Chloe since last Sunday afternoon when she'd come for lunch was a couple of e-mails. She was busy, she said, preparing to leave for Metropolis for her summer internship, but she'd promised to stop by before she left to say goodbye. Now that she was here, touching Clark again...that way...he wondered, with no small hope, if she wanted to continue what they'd started a week earlier. But he didn't know how to ask.
So, he didn't. He just leaned in and kissed her gently, his lips barely brushing hers. Then he pulled away, wondering if she'd follow.
She did. Her fingers combed through his dark hair and she pulled his head down to meet hers. Their lips met again, this time firmer and more urgently. Chloe slipped her tongue into Clark's mouth and he moaned softly, pulling her willing body closer against the harder planes of his broad chest. When they finally broke apart a moment later, they were both breathing hard.
Chloe's eyes were wide and questioning. "When will your parents be
home?"
"A couple of hours, I think. Awhile."
"Then, why don't we go up to the loft again? I'd like to tell you a proper goodbye..."
Clark frowned. "Chloe? Are you saying...do you want to...make love?"
"No," she shook her head. "As much as I care about you...and I *do* care a lot...I don't think I'm ready for that yet, Clark. But...as I understand it...there's a lot we can do that could be...just as satisfying. If you want to, that is."
Clark felt his heart speed up, the teenage male hormones rushing through his veins combining with the affection he felt for the beautiful young woman that he held in his arms. To use the sports metaphors that his dad was so fond of, Clark knew that he and Chloe might have only gotten to first base last weekend...but today she was offering to let him hit an 'in- the-park home run.'
"Only if you want to," he assured her.
"Oh, yes, I do. I want to spend my weeks in Metropolis with memories that'll keep me warm at night. Please?"
Clark smiled, that soft curve of his lips that made Chloe's toes curl. "How can I say no?"
* * * * * *
Clark locked the front door of the house and he and Chloe walked hand- in-hand out to the barn. They climbed the stairs to his 'Fortress of Solitude' in silence, looks and smiles communicating all that they needed to say. Once there, Clark took Chloe in his arms again, brushing her blonde hair back from her face. She looked up at him, her eyes shining expectantly.
Still, Clark hesitated.
Chloe had been through so much in the past few months...being kidnapped and buried alive, Clark's last-minute rescue, the short hospital stay, the last weeks of their freshman year...and the winter formal, where Clark had abandoned her to save Lana. Chloe had forgiven him, said she'd understood, and last weekend when they'd kissed...and a little bit more...right there on the sofa in the loft, Clark had believed that she meant it.
She was a bold person, more so than he, and good at asking for what she wanted. But he also suspected that she was no more experienced than he was and he didn't want her to ask for something now and end up regretting it later.
She stood on tiptoe then and kissed him, a thorough, fervent exploration of his lips with her own. It took all Clark's strength to break the kiss and pull back an inch or two, until his breathing steadied. He held her by the shoulders, his fingers gently kneading the soft flesh of her arms.
"Chloe? I don't want to do this unless you're absolutely sure. I'm going to miss you like crazy this summer but I don't want you to feel any, you know, pressure. I can wait."
"Clark Kent, sometimes you're too much of a gentleman for your own good, you know that? And my answer is...I could wait, too...but I don't want to."
Chloe took his hand and led him the few steps to the couch, pushing him down and back against the pillows. "I can see that I'm going to have to get aggressive with you," she said, as matter-of-factly as if she were quoting the current population count on the "Welcome to Smallville" sign outside town.
Her words excited him. She was in complete control and Clark found that he liked it. He might be able to bench-press the tractor but the roughness of her exquisite touch suddenly left him breathless and as weak as a kitten.
She climbed over him, her knees on either side of his hips, her nimble fingers unbuttoning the front of his plaid cotton shirt. He watched as she ran her hands inside the material, tugging it out of the waist of his jeans, her short, manicured nails slightly grazing the skin of his chest and stomach.
Chloe leaned down and kissed him again, her breath warm and moist against his lips while her tongue traced the sharp points of his teeth. She moved on top of him and this time he didn't stop her, even when the friction between them pushed him toward the brink from mounting pleasure to near pain. But somehow she knew instinctively when to pull away, sitting up and back, reaching for the button of his jeans.
"Wait," he commanded, his voice deeper and raspy. He caught her hands and held them still. "I want to see you, too."
Chloe smiled and nodded, tilting her head to one side. Her eyes never left his as she started to unbutton her sleeveless blouse, her fingers moving maddeningly slow, showing her creamy skin inch by tortuous inch, until she finally got to the bottom and pulled the garment off, revealing a delicate, silky white bra edged with lace.
Clark groaned and pulled her against him, wanting to feel the heated flush of her skin against his own. His fingers searched for and found the single hook. "Is this all right?" he whispered.
"Yes, Clark," she assured him and, seconds later, her bra joined her blouse on the floor next to the couch.
Clark might be inexperienced but one glance told him that Chloe was small, but perfect. He brushed the knuckles of one hand against the side of her breast and she sighed, moving closer. He took first one tip, then the other, in his mouth.
Chloe gasped, then moaned softly at his touch, her hands filtering through his hair as he sucked gently. "Clark? Clark...I need to...I need..." She was unable to finish, so breathless that she couldn't even put into words what heights he was driving her to.
"Go ahead, sweetheart," he urged her. "Tell me what you want me to do."
She blushed furiously as she pushed away from him, fumbling with the button of her jeans. Clark thought he'd never seen anything so beautiful as Chloe when she was embarrassed but so desperately wanting. He wasn't all that sure what he was doing, either, but he was determined that she wouldn't leave him that day unsatisfied.
He sat forward and helped her with the jeans, then unzipped his own and pulled them off, too. Her eyes met his again and, for the first time, her confidence wavered. "Can we do this, Clark? I mean, without, you know, um...going all the way? Is that possible?"
"I have to finish one way or another," he told her honestly, "and I know you want to, too. But, no, we don't have to have sex. I'm not an expert, but I know that making love is...well, can be...so much more than that."
Chloe smiled, relieved that he understood. "How is it that you always know the right thing to say?" She urged him back against the pillows and he carried her with him, letting her stretch out on top of him.
Being together that way, so intimately, was a dream come true for them both. "I don't always say the right thing," Clark told her, as his hands caressed her back and shoulders. He traced the delicate, curving line of her hip, still hidden beneath the thinnest layer of white silk. "But you're special to me. I'd never do anything to hurt you."
Chloe sighed in contentment. "I know that. But, right now..." she reached for his hand and guided it between their bodies, "...right now, I need to feel, Clark. I need to know what it's like to be touched. Only you can do that."
Clark adjusted positions, pulling Chloe to the side, facing him. Looking down her body, feasting his eyes on her taut breasts and flat stomach, he hooked his fingers inside the stretchy top band of her underwear and then went inside, probing gently. She was soft and warm and inviting, moving against his hand until he found just the right spot. When he did, she gasped and arched against him, crying out his name.
His lips met hers again and he kept on touching her, sensing somehow after only a minute or two that she was close. Her arms went around his neck and she turned her head away, burying her face against his shoulder, still moving instinctively in rhythm with him. He held her tight until, at last, she cried out again, louder than before, as intense shudders coursed through her small frame.
When she finally lay still, Clark gathered her against him, smoothing her hair and pressing light kisses to her forehead, cheeks and lips until her breathing quieted. She looked up at him and he was amazed to see tears in her eyes.
"How was that?" he asked softly, then laughed in surprise when Chloe did something he'd never seen, or rather heard, her do...she actually giggled.
She ducked her head to hide her flushed cheeks and her muffled voice came from the depths of the pillows behind them. "I'm embarrassed."
"Don't be." Clark lifted her chin up so that he could look into her eyes again. "You were beautiful."
She smiled again, using her fingers to trace random patterns across his forehead and cheeks, looking deeply into his green eyes. "Now, Mr. Kent," she whispered, "I believe that it must be your turn." Her hand left his face and traveled downward, making slow, easy circles on his chest and stomach. Clark drew in his breath sharply as she teased him with her touch, feeling his excitement rising once more.
As he had done with her, Chloe slipped her hand inside his briefs, circling her fingers tentatively, then more firmly, around him. As she stroked him, exploring, the newness of the sensations she was creating almost overwhelmed Clark, taking him higher than his own touch had ever taken him before.
He fought to keep control, knowing that he couldn't let himself go fully or he might hurt her. He also didn't want to do anything, well, strange, like floating off the couch, even though the brushing of her delicate skin against his made him feel like he could fly.
He shuttered his eyes, concentrating on Chloe's lips, losing himself in their moist fullness. Their legs tangled together and he moved with her, groaning her name softly. Finally, holding her against him, his eyes closed completely and he came, seeing bursts of colored lights and hearing a roaring in his ears that drowned out all other sounds except for her rapidly-thudding heartbeat and his own.
Clark drifted back into consciousness slowly and, when he opened his eyes again, Chloe was watching him, waiting, hardly breathing. "Was that all right?" she asked and he nodded, not quite yet able to speak. "Should I have done more?"
He kissed her, long and lingeringly. "That...was amazing."
They lay together in silence for a few minutes, totally content, the warm summer afternoon breeze filtering into the loft, cooling their damp bodies. Then Chloe stirred in his arms, pulling away a bit and propping up on one elbow.
"We should get dressed," she said, although he could tell she didn't really want to. "Imagine if your parents came home and found us like this."
That scenario brought Clark back to reality with a jolt and he nodded, helping her up off the sofa. They sorted out their clothes and climbed back into them a little self-consciously, casting quick glances at each other.
"Chloe..." Clark began, but she wouldn't let him finish.
"No, Clark, it's okay. All I wanted was happy memories for my summer in Metropolis...and you've given me those." Now fully dressed again, she sat back down on the couch, tucking one leg under her. He sat down, too, a little away, sensing that she had something that she needed to say.
"I need to get away from Smallville for awhile, Clark. I need time to think...to re-connect with myself and get some perspective."
"Then...when I come to visit you, we can talk."
"No," she shook her head, almost sadly. "I want to lose myself over the summer, Clark, make a fresh start. My feelings have been on a kind of roller coaster this year...up, then down, and now turned inside out."
"Well, then, I'll e-mail you and..."
"No," she decided. "Let's take some time off...and when we see each other again in September, I think we'll have a better idea where we go from here."
Clark wasn't happy with her suggestion. He felt like he'd just found her and now she was walking away from him. Almost as if she could read his mind, she intertwined her fingers with his, knowing somehow that he needed her touch.
"You won't even miss me while I'm gone," she said, and Clark smiled a little at that. She was a terrible liar. "And when we see each other again in the fall...we'll know if we're meant to be together...or just meant to be the best of friends."
Clark reached over and brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes, remembering the feel of her skin on his, the softness of her lips, the heights her touch had taken him to.
"No matter what happens, Chlo...I think we'll always be the best of friends."
THE END
This story takes place one week after the prequel, "Sunday Afternoon Delight," and will make a little more sense if you read that one (rated PG- 13) first.
In short, it's about three weeks after "Vortex," a week and a few days after the end of the teens' freshman year...and Chloe comes to say goodbye to Clark before leaving for her summer internship at the Daily Planet.
"Sunday Afternoon Goodbye"
"Did you know..." Chloe started, settling in next to Clark on the couch in the Kent family living room, "...according to Kansas State Marriage statutes...that, with parental consent...men can get married as young as fourteen...and women as young as twelve?"
Clark almost did a classic TV comedy spit-take with his lemonade, but gulped and choked, instead. He coughed and sputtered, his eyes watered...and, for an instant, he found he couldn't breathe. Chloe, concerned that he was going to pass out right in front of her, pounded him on the back, until he gasped a deep breath and turned toward her, his green eyes wide.
"What?!" was all he could manage at first.
"It's just kind of an interesting factoid, don'tcha think?" she asked innocently. "Of course, without parental consent, both people have to be at least eighteen."
"Thank God," Clark muttered. He set his glass down on the coffee table, his hand visibly shaking. "What kind of research have you been doing now, Chlo?"
"Well, you know that I leave tomorrow for my summer internship at the Daily Planet? If I get a chance to actually write an article, I thought it might be interesting to do a story on marriage...how young is too young, you know?"
"Well, I know one thing...we're too young!"
She pulled a wry face and grinned at him. "Speak for yourself, farmboy!"
Clark relaxed back into the cushions of the sofa, intensely relieved to realize at last that she was teasing him. "Okay, Sullivan, if you're not too young to get married...who's the lucky guy?"
"Actually, there could be several candidates," she said, mock serious. "I've always thought Pete was very good-looking...those big, brown eyes."
"Pete?" Clark's eyebrows shot up.
"Or-r..." Chloe considered a moment, pretending she was thinking hard. "Maybe a more sophisticated, older man, like Lex...wealthy, educated, articulate, not to mention very handsome...in that Jean-Luc Picard 'commanding' sort of way."
Clark reached for his lemonade again, enjoying the game. "I think Lex would rather be captured by the Borg than get married again. Remember, his first trip down the aisle didn't turn out so well."
"Okay, then, if not Pete or Lex, there are other possibilities." Chloe ticked off names on her fingers. "Jason, Sean, Greg, Evan, Patrick..."
"Patrick?" Clark frowned. "The nerdy chess-player with the Coke- bottle glasses?"
Chloe punched him in the arm and he pretended to flinch. "Don't be so cocky, Kent. You might have to wear glasses someday."
"Yeah," Clark agreed. "Right after I learn to fly."
Chloe surprised him by tucking her arm through his and leaning her head against his shoulder. "I came over here on my last afternoon in Smallville for the summer to say a touching goodbye, Clark, and you're making fun of me."
Clark set his lemonade down again, wiped his damp hand on the knee of his jeans and snuggled closer to her. "I know," he admitted, grinning, "I'm heartless and unfeeling."
Chloe looked up at him, her eyes fixed on his full lower lip. Then she really did surprise him, causing his breath to catch in his throat, when she traced it with the tip of her index finger lightly, tantalizingly.
"I remember all too well what happened up in your loft last week, Clark," she whispered. "You're a long way from heartless...or unfeeling."
Clark was suddenly very glad that his parents had left just before Chloe's arrival, deciding to take in an afternoon movie over at the Grandville Multiplex. All he'd heard from Chloe since last Sunday afternoon when she'd come for lunch was a couple of e-mails. She was busy, she said, preparing to leave for Metropolis for her summer internship, but she'd promised to stop by before she left to say goodbye. Now that she was here, touching Clark again...that way...he wondered, with no small hope, if she wanted to continue what they'd started a week earlier. But he didn't know how to ask.
So, he didn't. He just leaned in and kissed her gently, his lips barely brushing hers. Then he pulled away, wondering if she'd follow.
She did. Her fingers combed through his dark hair and she pulled his head down to meet hers. Their lips met again, this time firmer and more urgently. Chloe slipped her tongue into Clark's mouth and he moaned softly, pulling her willing body closer against the harder planes of his broad chest. When they finally broke apart a moment later, they were both breathing hard.
Chloe's eyes were wide and questioning. "When will your parents be
home?"
"A couple of hours, I think. Awhile."
"Then, why don't we go up to the loft again? I'd like to tell you a proper goodbye..."
Clark frowned. "Chloe? Are you saying...do you want to...make love?"
"No," she shook her head. "As much as I care about you...and I *do* care a lot...I don't think I'm ready for that yet, Clark. But...as I understand it...there's a lot we can do that could be...just as satisfying. If you want to, that is."
Clark felt his heart speed up, the teenage male hormones rushing through his veins combining with the affection he felt for the beautiful young woman that he held in his arms. To use the sports metaphors that his dad was so fond of, Clark knew that he and Chloe might have only gotten to first base last weekend...but today she was offering to let him hit an 'in- the-park home run.'
"Only if you want to," he assured her.
"Oh, yes, I do. I want to spend my weeks in Metropolis with memories that'll keep me warm at night. Please?"
Clark smiled, that soft curve of his lips that made Chloe's toes curl. "How can I say no?"
* * * * * *
Clark locked the front door of the house and he and Chloe walked hand- in-hand out to the barn. They climbed the stairs to his 'Fortress of Solitude' in silence, looks and smiles communicating all that they needed to say. Once there, Clark took Chloe in his arms again, brushing her blonde hair back from her face. She looked up at him, her eyes shining expectantly.
Still, Clark hesitated.
Chloe had been through so much in the past few months...being kidnapped and buried alive, Clark's last-minute rescue, the short hospital stay, the last weeks of their freshman year...and the winter formal, where Clark had abandoned her to save Lana. Chloe had forgiven him, said she'd understood, and last weekend when they'd kissed...and a little bit more...right there on the sofa in the loft, Clark had believed that she meant it.
She was a bold person, more so than he, and good at asking for what she wanted. But he also suspected that she was no more experienced than he was and he didn't want her to ask for something now and end up regretting it later.
She stood on tiptoe then and kissed him, a thorough, fervent exploration of his lips with her own. It took all Clark's strength to break the kiss and pull back an inch or two, until his breathing steadied. He held her by the shoulders, his fingers gently kneading the soft flesh of her arms.
"Chloe? I don't want to do this unless you're absolutely sure. I'm going to miss you like crazy this summer but I don't want you to feel any, you know, pressure. I can wait."
"Clark Kent, sometimes you're too much of a gentleman for your own good, you know that? And my answer is...I could wait, too...but I don't want to."
Chloe took his hand and led him the few steps to the couch, pushing him down and back against the pillows. "I can see that I'm going to have to get aggressive with you," she said, as matter-of-factly as if she were quoting the current population count on the "Welcome to Smallville" sign outside town.
Her words excited him. She was in complete control and Clark found that he liked it. He might be able to bench-press the tractor but the roughness of her exquisite touch suddenly left him breathless and as weak as a kitten.
She climbed over him, her knees on either side of his hips, her nimble fingers unbuttoning the front of his plaid cotton shirt. He watched as she ran her hands inside the material, tugging it out of the waist of his jeans, her short, manicured nails slightly grazing the skin of his chest and stomach.
Chloe leaned down and kissed him again, her breath warm and moist against his lips while her tongue traced the sharp points of his teeth. She moved on top of him and this time he didn't stop her, even when the friction between them pushed him toward the brink from mounting pleasure to near pain. But somehow she knew instinctively when to pull away, sitting up and back, reaching for the button of his jeans.
"Wait," he commanded, his voice deeper and raspy. He caught her hands and held them still. "I want to see you, too."
Chloe smiled and nodded, tilting her head to one side. Her eyes never left his as she started to unbutton her sleeveless blouse, her fingers moving maddeningly slow, showing her creamy skin inch by tortuous inch, until she finally got to the bottom and pulled the garment off, revealing a delicate, silky white bra edged with lace.
Clark groaned and pulled her against him, wanting to feel the heated flush of her skin against his own. His fingers searched for and found the single hook. "Is this all right?" he whispered.
"Yes, Clark," she assured him and, seconds later, her bra joined her blouse on the floor next to the couch.
Clark might be inexperienced but one glance told him that Chloe was small, but perfect. He brushed the knuckles of one hand against the side of her breast and she sighed, moving closer. He took first one tip, then the other, in his mouth.
Chloe gasped, then moaned softly at his touch, her hands filtering through his hair as he sucked gently. "Clark? Clark...I need to...I need..." She was unable to finish, so breathless that she couldn't even put into words what heights he was driving her to.
"Go ahead, sweetheart," he urged her. "Tell me what you want me to do."
She blushed furiously as she pushed away from him, fumbling with the button of her jeans. Clark thought he'd never seen anything so beautiful as Chloe when she was embarrassed but so desperately wanting. He wasn't all that sure what he was doing, either, but he was determined that she wouldn't leave him that day unsatisfied.
He sat forward and helped her with the jeans, then unzipped his own and pulled them off, too. Her eyes met his again and, for the first time, her confidence wavered. "Can we do this, Clark? I mean, without, you know, um...going all the way? Is that possible?"
"I have to finish one way or another," he told her honestly, "and I know you want to, too. But, no, we don't have to have sex. I'm not an expert, but I know that making love is...well, can be...so much more than that."
Chloe smiled, relieved that he understood. "How is it that you always know the right thing to say?" She urged him back against the pillows and he carried her with him, letting her stretch out on top of him.
Being together that way, so intimately, was a dream come true for them both. "I don't always say the right thing," Clark told her, as his hands caressed her back and shoulders. He traced the delicate, curving line of her hip, still hidden beneath the thinnest layer of white silk. "But you're special to me. I'd never do anything to hurt you."
Chloe sighed in contentment. "I know that. But, right now..." she reached for his hand and guided it between their bodies, "...right now, I need to feel, Clark. I need to know what it's like to be touched. Only you can do that."
Clark adjusted positions, pulling Chloe to the side, facing him. Looking down her body, feasting his eyes on her taut breasts and flat stomach, he hooked his fingers inside the stretchy top band of her underwear and then went inside, probing gently. She was soft and warm and inviting, moving against his hand until he found just the right spot. When he did, she gasped and arched against him, crying out his name.
His lips met hers again and he kept on touching her, sensing somehow after only a minute or two that she was close. Her arms went around his neck and she turned her head away, burying her face against his shoulder, still moving instinctively in rhythm with him. He held her tight until, at last, she cried out again, louder than before, as intense shudders coursed through her small frame.
When she finally lay still, Clark gathered her against him, smoothing her hair and pressing light kisses to her forehead, cheeks and lips until her breathing quieted. She looked up at him and he was amazed to see tears in her eyes.
"How was that?" he asked softly, then laughed in surprise when Chloe did something he'd never seen, or rather heard, her do...she actually giggled.
She ducked her head to hide her flushed cheeks and her muffled voice came from the depths of the pillows behind them. "I'm embarrassed."
"Don't be." Clark lifted her chin up so that he could look into her eyes again. "You were beautiful."
She smiled again, using her fingers to trace random patterns across his forehead and cheeks, looking deeply into his green eyes. "Now, Mr. Kent," she whispered, "I believe that it must be your turn." Her hand left his face and traveled downward, making slow, easy circles on his chest and stomach. Clark drew in his breath sharply as she teased him with her touch, feeling his excitement rising once more.
As he had done with her, Chloe slipped her hand inside his briefs, circling her fingers tentatively, then more firmly, around him. As she stroked him, exploring, the newness of the sensations she was creating almost overwhelmed Clark, taking him higher than his own touch had ever taken him before.
He fought to keep control, knowing that he couldn't let himself go fully or he might hurt her. He also didn't want to do anything, well, strange, like floating off the couch, even though the brushing of her delicate skin against his made him feel like he could fly.
He shuttered his eyes, concentrating on Chloe's lips, losing himself in their moist fullness. Their legs tangled together and he moved with her, groaning her name softly. Finally, holding her against him, his eyes closed completely and he came, seeing bursts of colored lights and hearing a roaring in his ears that drowned out all other sounds except for her rapidly-thudding heartbeat and his own.
Clark drifted back into consciousness slowly and, when he opened his eyes again, Chloe was watching him, waiting, hardly breathing. "Was that all right?" she asked and he nodded, not quite yet able to speak. "Should I have done more?"
He kissed her, long and lingeringly. "That...was amazing."
They lay together in silence for a few minutes, totally content, the warm summer afternoon breeze filtering into the loft, cooling their damp bodies. Then Chloe stirred in his arms, pulling away a bit and propping up on one elbow.
"We should get dressed," she said, although he could tell she didn't really want to. "Imagine if your parents came home and found us like this."
That scenario brought Clark back to reality with a jolt and he nodded, helping her up off the sofa. They sorted out their clothes and climbed back into them a little self-consciously, casting quick glances at each other.
"Chloe..." Clark began, but she wouldn't let him finish.
"No, Clark, it's okay. All I wanted was happy memories for my summer in Metropolis...and you've given me those." Now fully dressed again, she sat back down on the couch, tucking one leg under her. He sat down, too, a little away, sensing that she had something that she needed to say.
"I need to get away from Smallville for awhile, Clark. I need time to think...to re-connect with myself and get some perspective."
"Then...when I come to visit you, we can talk."
"No," she shook her head, almost sadly. "I want to lose myself over the summer, Clark, make a fresh start. My feelings have been on a kind of roller coaster this year...up, then down, and now turned inside out."
"Well, then, I'll e-mail you and..."
"No," she decided. "Let's take some time off...and when we see each other again in September, I think we'll have a better idea where we go from here."
Clark wasn't happy with her suggestion. He felt like he'd just found her and now she was walking away from him. Almost as if she could read his mind, she intertwined her fingers with his, knowing somehow that he needed her touch.
"You won't even miss me while I'm gone," she said, and Clark smiled a little at that. She was a terrible liar. "And when we see each other again in the fall...we'll know if we're meant to be together...or just meant to be the best of friends."
Clark reached over and brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes, remembering the feel of her skin on his, the softness of her lips, the heights her touch had taken him to.
"No matter what happens, Chlo...I think we'll always be the best of friends."
THE END