She was exhausted. She didn't think she had ever been so tired in her entire life and she had been through Army boot camp—twice. Her head was pounding, her arms were numb, and her leg was still throbbing. Even though it was going on eight in the morning, all she wanted to do was climb into bed and sleep… without turning into a crazed maniac this time.
It had been a strange experience to be chained up in Watchtower one minute, then standing in the rain the next with zero recollection about how she'd gotten there. It had felt like she was a little kid again, falling asleep in one spot and then waking up in bed the next morning. When she saw Oliver's bandaged head, the destroyed pile of chains, and the broken glass window, she couldn't help but feel guilty. She knew it wasn't her fault and she had no control over it, but part of her felt weak for not being able to fight off the sleep.
The only positive thing about the whole experience had been coming back to consciousness and finding herself wrapped up in Clark's arms. Anytime she got the chance to hug him, it was always comforting, but something about waking up in his steely embrace, pressed against his hard, wet body had awakened something primal in her. There wasn't a shadow of a doubt in her mind anymore that if he made a move again, she wouldn't stop him. She thought she had needed time, but apparently, a week was more than enough for her to get over the hurdle that had been keeping him at arm's length.
Earlier, when she thought she may not have another opportunity to tell him, she had divulged one of her biggest secrets: that selfishly, she had wanted to be with the Blur because it made her feel good. She had felt guilty about it for a long time, for wanting to help people because it gave her personal gratification, but at the end of the day, it was about more than that. Sure, it was a part of it, but she thought that almost anyone who served their community or country had to feel that way. It did feel good to help others and as long as that wasn't the sole reason for it, why should she let that weigh on her?
Of course, the other part of that equation had been what weighed on her more. She had wanted to be with him because she loved what he did and who he was, even before she knew it was Clark. With that revelation, it only made her love him more. So when she finally admitted that to herself, she had let those demons go and when she told Clark all of this, she was finally ready to give in to those feelings. But Oliver's timing had been impeccable. In retrospect, it was probably a good thing that he didn't kiss her. Chloe and Emil had been in the room, she was fighting off an alien sickness, and she had been chained up, so it didn't exactly scream romance. But even so… part of her still wished that he had.
Oliver was another issue that made her uneasy with taking things further with Clark. Their conversation was a little bit fuzzy, but she remembered the uncomfortable feeling in her gut clearly. It was obvious that he had a lot of unresolved feelings for her, whether they were real or simply a byproduct of whatever emotional rollercoaster he was on, but either way, she knew that she was going to have a conversation with him sooner or later and it wouldn't be fair to throw her feelings for Clark in his face.
But after everything that had happened to her, all of that was too much to think about at the moment. The only thing she could really focus on right now was how Clark had just super sped her away without warning again and that her head now felt like a spinning top.
"Okay, that's the last one I'm giving you a free pass on. Unless it is a life or death situation, I'm going to need a little warning," she said as her feet dropped to the ground. She swayed for a moment, but caught herself before Clark had an aneurysm and jetted her off to the hospital. Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice.
"Seriously, I love that you can get me from point A to point B in a flash, but I'm going to get a serious case of whiplash if you keep doing that," she said, throwing him a mildly annoyed look. While it was convenient, it made her a little dizzy, especially after what she had just gone through, so all she asked for was a little time to prepare herself.
"Lois," he said faintly. If she didn't know any better, she'd say he had even affected himself with his speedy exit. He was staring blankly at her and if she was honest, it was a little unnerving. He looked way too serious for her liking and she knew that he was either going to try to persuade her to go to the hospital or even worse, he was going to want to talk about the conversation they'd had earlier. Both options were too tiring for her to put up with at the moment, so she didn't answer him.
"Just know, if I ever end up puking or passing out on you, it's your fault," she said. Still, he didn't react. He just continued to stand and stare at her like a statue. Yep, there was no doubt he wanted to talk. His "let's go to the hospital face" was usually a little more concerned and broody, but his expression now was a classic case of "emotional bombshell." Maybe it wasn't fair of her after all of their constant flirting and the way she had opened up to him earlier, but she just couldn't deal with it in her current state.
"Lois," he said again, this time with a little more volume. Of course, he wasn't going to let up. Maybe if she just came out and told him she was tired, he'd let it go. But that also ran the risk of Nurse Kent reappearing. She needed to have a conversation with him about letting up a little bit on the medical front. She knew that she got into more scrapes than the typical girl, but hey, she wasn't typical. She could handle herself.
"God, that's certainly not how I expected my day to go yesterday. Guess I'll need to update my all night survival kit with some zombie repellent and industrial chains to be safe," she said. She may have gone a little overboard when she turned on the Bambi eyes and smiled so big that she gave the Cheshire cat a run for its money, but if it kept Clark from going DEFCON 1, she'd use every trick in the book. But still, he didn't react, so she trudged on.
"Although, I guess the chains didn't exactly do much, so maybe I'll just—"
Whatever quip she had on the tip of her tongue was muffled in an instant. One second, she'd been rambling, and the next, she was unable to speak. There had been no time for her to anticipate what had happened, so it took her a moment to realize what was going on, but as soon as her brain caught up to her body, it completely shut down.
Clark had kissed her.
Well, more accurately, he was kissing her. That was the last thing that went through her head before instinct took over and she threw her arms around him. A pleasant, warm thrumming reverberated against every single cell in her body as a pair of soft, supple lips pressed firmly against hers. A fire sparked in her lower belly when the tip of his tongue flicked against her bottom lip and it exploded through her, making her moan into his mouth and practically melt against his hard body.
He was invading her every sense. His large, strong hands were frenzied against her body, touching and caressing her as his lips did the same. All she could smell and taste was his essence—a combination of wood, hay, and his own personal musk—which was drugging her into a hazy stupor. The sound of his breaths and the whisper of her name from his lips sent shivers down her spine and while she couldn't see anything, the explosion of colors behind her closed eyes was enough to keep her completely caught under his spell.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt her back hit something hard, but she couldn't be bothered to focus on what it was. She also didn't care. All that she knew was that Clark's hot mouth was working magic against hers and all of the tension that had been building between them had finally detonated in a blissful explosion. And his hands… God, his hands were everywhere. They were in her hair, down her back, against her hips, tugging and pulling her against him until they were connected at virtually every point. Her hands were not idle either as she trailed them across the hard planes of his chest and back, then up his neck and through his thick hair. He practically growled as her hands reached his head and she felt him nip her bottom lip in response.
He breathed her name like a prayer against her lips, then latched his own to her pulse point. She gasped at his touch, both out of pleasure and a necessity. Breathing hard as he kissed and licked his way down her neck to her collar bone, she quickly caught her breath, then tugged his face back to hers, desperate to feel his mouth beneath hers again.
Heat pulsated through every inch of her body and her skin felt like it was on fire anywhere he touched her. His lips and tongue were still moving against hers, invading and mapping her mouth for the first time. Well, first time for him. That was the thing that finally snapped her back to reality. As her synapses began firing again, she realized that her legs were wrapped around his waist and he had her pressed up against the wall. When did that happen? As she tried to detach her mouth from his, he rocked his hips against hers and she couldn't stop the whimper that escaped her at the pleasurable pressure it provided.
"Clark," she whispered, trying and failing to get his attention, which was back on her neck. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head when he found the sensitive spot beneath her ear, but it was just another thing that blurred her current state of affairs with the memories she possessed in a similar position. While she was by no means disappointed with what was going on, she also didn't think that repeating the past—well, future—was a good idea right now. So when she felt him start to make his way back to her lips, she somehow found the willpower to press her hands against his advancing chest.
"Clark," she said, this time, a little more firmly. His eyes had been locked solely on her mouth, but when she said his name this time, recognition peeked through his hazy stare and he shifted his blue eyes to hers. For a second, they burned with a passion that made her want to screw her plans and tell him to take her upstairs, but she held steady and waited for him to pull himself out of the lusty fog she had just narrowly escaped.
When she saw the tendrils of acknowledgement begin to creep into his gaze, she wasn't surprised at his initial reaction. Fear flashed in his eyes and she felt his body stiffen in response, no doubt terrified that he had overstepped, but that was the last thing she wanted. So instead, she tightened her legs around his waist, causing the very hard ridge in his jeans to press against her again. Hearing him swear was usually funny because it was so out of character for him, but right now, she knew she had never been more turned on.
"So that's what it takes to make you swear, huh?" she murmured. His tongue darted out past his lips, eliciting a litany of X-rated thoughts to flash through her head, while his eyes told her that his brain was in overdrive right now trying to decipher the situation. Even though he had her wrapped around his waist, up against the wall, and had just kissed the living daylights out of her, she could still tell that he was second-guessing his actions.
"Lois…" he started, but she shushed him almost immediately.
"Whatever you're thinking: stop. If I had a problem with what just happened, you'd know," she said. "Trust me."
When he nodded and seemed to accept her answer, she gently smiled to further reassure him before her gaze dropped to their current predicament. Her legs were still wrapped around him and the evidence of his arousal was hard to miss, so she fixed her eyes back on Clark, who was looking at her dangerously.
"If you keep staring at me like that, you're gonna burn a hole in my head," she murmured, causing his pupils to dilate even further. It was extraordinary—what just his look could do to her body—and had she not been totally mesmerized by the flecks of emerald swirling in his irises, she might have been embarrassed at the shiver that she knew he felt reverberate down her body.
"I have that under control. Most of the time," he said, his voice low and gravelly. Hooded, predatory eyes stared at her like she was his next meal and sent a flash of heat down her stomach, alerting her to the fact that she needed to get out of his arms immediately.
"Noted," she said. As her eyes flickered back down to the position he had her in, she had to bite her lip to steady herself. "You wanna put me down now?"
She felt pressure from his fingers against her thighs in response and she dug her teeth further into her own skin to keep from whimpering. As she did, his eyes went back to her lips before returning to hers, the fire in them showing no signs of tempering down.
"Do I have to?" he asked. God, she wanted him. Images of their naked bodies, limbs intertwined beneath twisted sheets, flashed across her mind and she felt a rush of heat between her legs as the memories came and went. But it was those very thoughts that helped her stay steady in her resolve.
"No, but I'd appreciate it," she said. Again, his fingers flexed against the backs of her thighs, but this time when his grip relaxed, she felt herself being lowered to the floor at the same time. Still, he never took his eyes from hers and the intensity of his stare was making it hard to breathe. When her feet touched the ground, her knees nearly buckled as she tried to stand, but this time, Clark was holding her up.
"Thank you," she said, her words coming out as a throaty whisper. It was unbelievable what he was doing to her and if he didn't stop soon, she was going to melt. His fingers grazed her arms after deciding she was steady enough to stand by herself and she shivered at the contact. By the way the corner of his mouth turned up, she knew he had felt it. But even she couldn't find it in herself to care as he continued to look at her.
As unbelievably hot as he was, she couldn't help but notice how adorable he also looked. She had done a number on his hair, which now stuck out in multiple directions, and his slightly swollen lips were harboring the ghost of a smile. His eyes were intense, but they were also sparkling with a lightness and joy that she hadn't seen in a long time and it made him all the more irresistible.
Knowing that if she didn't put some more space in between them, that she'd be back in his arms without hesitation, she patted him on the chest and moved into the kitchen. She took the first clean breath that hadn't been filled with Clark Kent in several minutes and was not surprised that she shook as she exhaled. Moving to grab a glass from the cabinet and do anything to keep herself occupied with something other than looking at the man staring holes into the back of her head, she filled it with water and took a lengthy gulp. Feeling a little more settled, she turned and finally looked at him.
"So… that was a little unexpected," she said. His intense expression didn't change except for the crease that appeared between his eyebrows.
"Was it?" he asked. The way he looked at her and the tone of his voice told her that he wasn't going to let her play her usual game after everything that had happened, so she relented slightly.
"Well… maybe not. I guess I just meant I wasn't expecting that right after I nearly tried to rip your head off," she said. The frown on his face disappeared at her words and was replaced by a knowing grin.
"You know, you have a pretty mean left hook," he admitted, gently stroking the right side of his jaw as he spoke. Her eyes narrowed, but she couldn't keep herself from reflecting the smile on his face.
"So I've been told," she said. She didn't remember fighting him at all and she wondered if she actually had been able to get a few punches in, but she also knew that now was not the time to ask that question. Instead, she had a bigger one on her mind.
"But seriously, what made you… kiss me?" she asked, clearing her throat before she could utter the last words out loud. It was stupid and she knew it, but she couldn't help it. The fact that she had just made out with Clark in his kitchen after unknowingly trying to kill him an hour ago was still processing in her head. The way he moved towards her with those penetrating sapphire eyes fixed on her made her stomach do flips and so did the next words that came out of his mouth.
"You did."
Maybe it was the way he said it or maybe it was the way he hadn't stopped staring at her, but something about those two simple words nearly took her breath away. She wasn't used to him being so bold, especially when it came to his feelings. While he had certainly changed over the past few weeks, his confident, matter-of-fact attitude was something she was still trying to adjust to, so she dealt with it in the only way she knew how.
"Okay, well glad to know you weren't thinking about someone else just then," she said. Taking a large gulp of water, she deposited the glass in the sink behind her and leaned back against the counter in an attempt to ground herself. Thankfully, her flippant response seemed to break the tension in the room as she watched Clark visibly deflate. She didn't need a super hearing to know he had just let out a large sigh, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
"Look, I don't know… I just couldn't take it anymore," he said, running a hand through his hair. Now this was the version if Clark she could handle: uncertain and unconfident. All she had to do was keep it that way.
"Couldn't take what?" she asked, as if she had no earthly idea what he was talking about, which only elicited a rather dramatic eye roll from the man standing across the kitchen from her.
"This. This back-and-forth… thing that we've been doing," he said, motioning to the empty space between them. She could tell that she was frustrating him and she knew that if she annoyed him enough, he'd veer from the conversation he was trying to have with her, so she carried on.
"You write for a living and that's the best you can do?" she said, hoping with all her might to see his famous brooding brow take shape. Unfortunately for her, Clark knew her well enough to know what she was trying to do and stood strong.
"You're deflecting," he said. He crossed his arms across his chest and she couldn't help but notice how large it made his arms look, which was a very dangerous and distracting thing at the moment.
"No, I'm defining," she replied, watching his frown begin to form. But just before she internally declared victory, the expression slipped off of his face and he relaxed into a more casual position. Damn him.
"Fine. Ever since you came back, there's been this… connection between us. I mean, it's always been there, but ever since I found you on that monorail, it's been different. You've been different. And I couldn't ignore that anymore," he said. His eyes were laser focused on hers and she found it impossible to look away from him.
"Different how, exactly?" she asked carefully, making a last ditch effort to talk about anything other than what had just happened between them.
"Lois, you kissed me last week."
And there it was. He really planned on putting everything on the table, didn't he? It shouldn't have surprised her considering they had just played tonsil hockey only a few minutes ago, but they had never been so blunt before about their feelings and relationship. Even admitting that they were friends had been about as easy as pulling a tooth. They spent years burying their feelings and even though things had started to escalate over the past few weeks, she never really expected to have the conversation they were having. So she hung on to whatever fringe conversation there was left.
"Oh, so we're talking about that now?" she asked, as if it had been Clark's idea to avoid the topic in the first place.
"It was obvious you didn't want to, so I didn't say anything. But I'm tired of avoiding it. I'm tired of pretending that there isn't something between us," he said. She noticed at that moment how much closer he had gotten to her and wondered briefly when he had done so, but with the mesmerizing pools of blue swirling directly in front of her, she found it impossible to avoid the conversation any longer.
"I never said that there wasn't. And I think by the way you just mauled me, that's pretty obvious," she said, swallowing the lump that had just formed in her throat.
"Mauled? Seriously—you know what? Never mind," he said, stopping himself before he got riled up like she wanted. "You admit it, then? That there's something more than friendship between us?"
This time, she couldn't avoid it. There was no quip or joke she could make, no question she could ask, and absolutely no way out of the conversation. In her entire life, he had never looked and acted so completely vulnerable before, so the only thing she could do was answer him as plainly and truthfully as he had asked the question.
"Yes."
It was so quiet that she could have heard a pin drop. It felt as though all of the air in the room had been sucked away and the only source of oxygen was standing right in front of her. She didn't need superpowers to see just how much her answer had affected him. Though he tried desperately to keep his expression neutral, it was obvious by the way his eyes brightened and the corner of his mouth twitched that her honesty had been just what he needed.
"Then why have you been keeping me at arm's length? Every time I've tried to make a move, you've rejected me," he asked, his tone much softer now. Her stomach flipped at his mention of her cautious behavior and immediately her guard came back up. It wasn't that she wanted to reject him… it was more complicated than that. And having to explain that to him was something she wasn't looking forward to, so she did what she did best and blew by him into the living room.
"Well, you kind of took me by surprise, Smallville. First, you whisk me away without warning, then, before I can even blink, you've got me rearranging the photos on the wall," she said, busying herself with folding the throw blanket before she started straightening the pillows. When he didn't answer and she had fidgeted with just about everything she could, she turned around to find him leaning up against the archway with his arms crossed.
"You're really something, you know that?" he said sourly and she bristled at his tone. Sure, her goal had been to irritate him enough with her evasion that he dropped the topic altogether, but that didn't mean he needed to act like a jerk.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, preparing herself for the argument that she knew was coming as she saw his eyes brows come together in a frown.
"Why can't you ever just give me a straight answer?" he asked. She nearly laughed in disbelief.
"Coming from the king of evasion and secrecy, that's gold," she replied, but he didn't react. Instead, his frown deepened and he took a step towards her.
"I have been more than truthful with you ever since you came back. The least you can do is the same for me," he said. Now it was her turn to be annoyed. Her hands flew to her hips as she threw a glare in his direction.
"It was only because the world was ending that you—another version of you, I might add—had the stones to tell me the truth. So don't give me that crap," she said, this time, striking a nerve. His powerful arms fell beside him as he took another step towards her, pinning her beneath his stormy gaze.
"I was trying to keep you safe! You're not telling me because you're scared!" he exclaimed and she just about lost it.
"I'm scared? You've had years to tell me the truth about you! So you can say it was for my benefit all you want, but you were protecting yourself and you know it!"
A few minutes ago, they had been in nearly the same position. Their faces were so close that she could feel his unsteady breaths against her cheek and the heat in his eyes was making it nearly impossible to look away from him. This time, however, she was irritated instead of aroused, though she couldn't entirely deny the latter. He could sit there and tell himself all day that his secrecy was for her benefit, but she knew damn well that it was a two way street. She'd already had this conversation with Future Clark and he had already tried to use the same excuse, so she was more than ready for whatever he was going to throw at her.
"You're right."
"What?" she immediately asked. She had been so wrapped up in preparing herself for the argument she thought was inevitable that she hadn't been watching his reaction. He was still standing close to her, but the fire in him was gone. Instead, he looked calmer than she had seen him in a long time. Nodding, he repeated himself.
"You're right. I was scared. I was scared it would change things between us and I didn't want that to happen," he said so matter-of-factly that she almost shook her head in confusion. This was the Clark that she didn't know how to handle. And if she had to handle this version of him while they had this conversation, she didn't know if she was going to be able to get through it.
"Oh. Well… that was dumb. You should know me better than that," she said and went to throw a playful punch at his bicep. But before she could make contact, her progress was impeded by a large, warm hand wrapping around her wrist. She involuntarily sucked in a breath at the contact and her eyes went immediately to her arm before flicking up to meet his. The way he was looking at her was doing unspeakable things to her body and she knew that if she didn't take a step back that she'd be in his arms within seconds. Thankfully, he seemed to notice the tension too, because he released her arm not a second later.
"I know. And I do. That's why I'm not letting you run away from this conversation anymore," he said. Shaking her head, she made a move to take a step backwards, but was thwarted by Clark's hands catching her own.
"I'm not—"
"Lois, for once… just be honest with me. Because I can't keep doing this," he said, gently tugging her to sit beside him on the sofa. "Is it because of what happened between us in the future? Because of what you still won't tell me?"
"I never said anything did happen," she muttered half-heartedly, but even he knew that her heart wasn't in it.
"Don't do that. Please, just… please," he said. He was full on begging her now and with the way his baby blues were fixed on her, she was helpless. The puppy dog eyes worked every damn time and she wasn't sure she'd ever figure out a way to combat them. Sighing, she closed her eyes and thought about what she was going to say.
She had to tell him the truth. He had already pretty much guessed what had happened, but that didn't mean it would be any less awkward confirming it. Honestly, that wasn't what she was worried about though. What worried her most was telling him the real reason she had kept it all a secret.
"Okay," she said and opened her eyes. "Okay, alright. Look… you're right. I'm scared, too."
She could hear the weakness in her voice and she hated it with every fiber of her being, but if Clark noticed, he didn't show it. Instead, he just squeezed her fingertips and gave her an encouraging look.
"Of what?" he asked. His voice was so soft and un-Clark-like, it nearly made her tear up. And that just wouldn't do. So she slipped her hands out of his and stood up, moving to the other side of the coffee table so that she could look at him. She bit the corner of her lip and chewed on it briefly before finding his questioning stare.
"It's hard to explain."
"I can keep up."
He didn't make a move to get up nor did he open his mouth to say anything. Instead, he sat there patiently waiting with a calm expression etched on his face. He had always been good about that. Whenever she needed someone, he had not only always been there, but he had never pushed her to reveal more than she wanted to. Until recently, she had just thought it was because he was a special guy. Now she knew it was so much more than that. It was that realization that he was willing to wait for her to explain things on her terms that gave her the courage to tell him.
"When I was in the future, you—he was… different. He was darker and angrier and had all but given up, but at the same time… he was also more vulnerable. He was open and honest and confident and I saw a side of you I had never really seen before. And as wrong as it sounds and as terrible of a place that it was… I liked it."
She paced as she spoke, only glancing at him as she finished speaking to gauge his reaction, which was much more closed off than she was used to. He didn't seem angry or upset, but he didn't seem happy either. Considering the circumstances, neutral wasn't a terrible sight. When he met her eyes and nodded in recognition, she took a breath and continued.
"He shared things with me that you had never shared before, not just about your secret, but about your… his feelings, too. He told me when I came back what you'd be going through and how you'd feel about me, but…" she trailed off and bit her lip instead. She didn't want to admit it out loud. She didn't even want to float the possibility. But she knew that she owed him the truth, even if it broke her heart.
"But what?"
In that moment, all she could hear was the General's voice in her head telling her to rip it off like a band aid and get it over with. So, that's exactly what she did. She squared her shoulders and told him the truth.
"But at the same time… I know that you didn't go through what he did. You didn't live through a year of thinking I was dead. You didn't live under Zod's reign. You aren't the one who told me all of those things. You…" she said, unable to finish the sentence without risking to release the tears that threatened her now. Thankfully, Clark interjected and she was able to compose herself.
"I'm not him," he said plainly. She sniffed, then slowly shook her head, her eyes flickering between his face and the floor.
"No, you're not. You're you. And I guess that scares me," she admitted, then cleared her throat. Thankful to have kept the tears at bay, she blinked a few times then cautiously looked up to see his reaction. What she found, however, was not what she expected. His hands were clasped together and he had his head bowed in front of him almost like he was praying and she frowned.
"I'm sorry," he said. His voice was so low that she almost didn't hear it, but when he raised his head and looked at her with sorrow in his eyes, she knew that her ears hadn't been playing tricks on her. She also knew that she was very, very confused.
"What? You're sorry?" she asked as she moved towards him, but Clark was already on his feet and halfway across the room.
"I'm sorry I'm not… him," he said darkly and it stopped her in her tracks. Oh no. He thought she wanted him to be like Future Clark? Was that what it had sounded like to him?"
"No, Clark, that's not what I meant..." she said weakly, still shocked at where his head had gone. She reached out to touch his shoulder, but he turned away from her and began backing towards the back door. The pain on his face was obvious and it broke her heart that he thought she wanted him to be anyone but himself. She had to explain it to him and make him see.
"I can't be him and I probably never will be, but… but I want to be," he said, his voice nearly catching. His eyes were so sad as they peered down at her and all she wanted to do was wrap him in her arms. Again, she reached out to him.
"You've got it all wrong..." she tried again, but he just shook his head and reached for the door knob.
"But I'm sorry if I can't live up to whatever version of me it was that shared those things with you. I don't know if I can measure up to that," he said, the bitterness evident in his tone. But Lois had stopped listening. As soon as she saw him begin to turn the door knob, her hand shot out and grabbed him.
"You stubborn alien boy scout! You're not listening to me!" she yelled, yanking his hand away from the door. "I'm scared that you only did and said those things because you thought I was dead! And that you were going to die!"
She hadn't meant to yell at him, but there were too many emotions bouncing around in her and she had to let one of them out. Thankfully, it seemed to have worked because Clark no longer looked as if someone had just killed Shelby. Granted, now he was looking at her like she was a crazy person, but that wasn't new territory. She let out a breath as she felt the frustration drain from her body, then mustered a small smile as she spoke.
"I don't want you to be him, Clark. Not at all," she said.
"Then what do you want?" he asked, nearly pleading with her to tell him exactly what she had been trying to tell him all along.
"I just want you to want… me," she said.
When he still looked at her like she was speaking another language, she sighed and shook her head. For a supposed highly-evolved species, it seemed that the men on Krypton were just as oblivious as the ones on Earth. A sudden peacefulness washed across her and she reached out to touch his cheek, taking advantage of his stupor in case it was the last time she got to do so.
"Not because the world is ending or because you thought I was dead for a year or because I know your secret… not for any reason other than you want me."
It had been her biggest fear ever since she had returned: that this Clark didn't love her the way Future Clark did. Sure, it had been everything she had dreamt about to be with Future Clark and for him to tell her his secret and how he felt about her. But it also hadn't been real. This Clark didn't live a year thinking she had died. This Clark hadn't been imprisoned in his own home by Zod. This Clark didn't have one night left to live. This Clark had a choice.
All of her cards were on the table now. Her feelings, her secrets, her fears… they all laid bare before him to do with whatever he wanted. He could break her heart right now if he wanted to, but again, for some reason, she felt an odd sense of tranquility come over her. Maybe it was because she had finally gotten everything off of her chest or maybe it was because she was just sleep deprived. Either way, the ball was in his court now and she was done playing defense.
"You… you think I feel… obligated or something?" he finally choked out. For some reason, she felt heat blossom beneath her cheeks as he looked at her like she was out of her mind. Her arms immediately wrapped around herself in defense as she did her best not to show how completely embarrassed she felt.
"For all I know, that could have just been an extremely nice thank you," she said and did everything in her power to look anywhere except at him, which proved to be particularly difficult after the next words left his lips.
"Lois, I have wanted you from the first moment I saw you."
Someone could have knocked her over with a feather if they wanted to. His admission was one thing, but the desire burning clearly in his voice and in his eyes was something else entirely. It was as if her brain was short-circuiting.
"Wha—you… you couldn't stand me," she stuttered, backing into the hallway as he moved towards her, almost predatory in the way he was looking at her.
"And you think that means I didn't want you?" he asked. Lois used to imagine what the Blur's voice really sounded like, but never in her wildest fantasies did she think he would sound as hot as a flirting Clark Kent. The sound of his voice nearly made her knees buckle, causing her to bump into the table behind her. A clattering noise pulled her out of the sexually charged haze and when she found the culprit, the electricity around them fell flat.
"Yes, actually. I think you're conveniently forgetting the girl next door who's had a WWE chokehold on you since we met."
It was an old photo of them. It could have even been from before she met Clark, she wasn't sure, but seeing them smiling together hurt worse than she thought it would, even after all this time. Lana Lang was and would always be the love of Clark's life. She knew that. And she wasn't going to play second fiddle to anyone.
"Just because I cared about Lana back then doesn't mean I wasn't thinking about you, too," he said, but even she could tell he regretted his choice of words as soon as he said them.
"Cared? Are you kidding me? You two were basically a Shakespearean tragedy," she said. He opened his mouth to respond, but she trudged ahead before he could interrupt. "And we hated each other! You were Mr. Goody Two-Step Shoes and I thought of you as an annoying little brother. There was nothing between us back then."
This time, she was the one with the poor word choice. And Clark certainly wasn't going to let her get away with it, either.
"That's a lie," he nearly growled. She was treading in dangerous waters and if she wasn't careful, she was going to push him too far, so she relented somewhat.
"Which part?" she asked and his eyes narrowed.
"All of it," he said and she smirked.
"Not the part about Lana."
They fought the battle silently, staring at one another, waiting patiently for the other to back down. But in the end, Lois was declared the winner when Clark looked down and sighed.
"Okay. You're right," he admitted. A smile began to spread across her face, but he nipped her victory in the bud before she had a chance to celebrate. "About Lana. Not about anything else."
"So she's still got a chokehold on you?" she asked, but Clark merely rolled his eyes, clearly getting tired of playing her little game.
"Seriously? After I just had you up against the wall, you're going to ask me that question?" he asked. She couldn't deny it; the cocky attitude had a certain appeal that she wanted desperately to explore, but she also knew that she needed to save that for a later date. Right now, she needed to make sure he didn't get the upper hand. As much as she wanted to succumb to more carnal conversations, she had to be sure of where they stood, or rather, where she stood with him.
"One sleep deprived make out session doesn't erase an eternity of obsession," she said, pushing the frame into his hands as she moved past him back into the living room. But she didn't make it more than three steps before he was spinning her around.
"Do you have to be this stubborn all the time?" he asked, his face too close for comfort. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she took a small step back so that she was staring directly at him rather than up. The last thing she needed was to feel smaller than she already did.
"Only when I'm right," she said. They were both joking with each other, just like they normally did, but there was no humor in either of their voices anymore. There was none in his eyes, either. Instead, all that hung between them was a blanket of trepidation. She could tell he sensed it too because he had thankfully stopped trying to encroach on her space. He respected her enough to keep himself at a distance and also to give her a straight answer.
"No, Lois, Lana does not have a chokehold on me. I closed that chapter a long time ago," he said evenly. She watched his reaction carefully, searching for any signs of longing, but she didn't find any. All she saw was acceptance. Still, she wasn't going to be fooled that easily.
"I've heard that before," she said. She couldn't help but be skeptical. She'd had a front row seat to the Clark and Lana show, so she knew firsthand how many times Clark had said he was over her when he clearly wasn't. While she didn't have that same feeling that she'd had in the past when they spoke, she still didn't want to get her hopes up.
"I can't be with her anymore. It's not possible," he said. There was an edge to his tone that set her reporter senses off and although she wasn't sure she wanted to know why, she had to ask the question if she wanted any peace of mind.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked. Clark sighed and looked away for a moment. When he met her gaze again, there was a sad smile on his face that struck a chord in her chest to see.
"Lana stole a superpowered suit that Lex had created and grafted it to herself. Lex knew she was going to steal it, so he rigged it to absorb Kryptonite. I can't get within ten feet of her," he said so bluntly that it took her a moment to process what he had just said. Even when she did, she found that she didn't know what to say.
"Oh," she said. "I'm sorry."
She knew she probably should have said something more than that or asked more questions, but what was she supposed to say? There was too much information to deal with. They didn't break up; they were forced apart. Not only that, but Lana had superpowers? She was basically Clark's equal. If Lana found a cure, there'd be nothing keeping them apart anymore.
"Don't be. It hurt at the time, but believe me when I say: it was nothing compared to how I felt when I couldn't find you."
At first, his words didn't register. Her mind was so wrapped up in the endless gut-wrenching scenarios she'd have to endure once Lana found a way to cure herself that she didn't realize what he had said until it hit her. Her eyes locked with his and as much as her self-defense mode wanted to tell her that he was lying, she knew with all of her heart that he was telling the truth.
"Clark…" she said, but that's all that escaped her. Gently, he shook his head and grabbed her arms, trailing his hands across her skin until her hands were in his.
"Lois, when you disappeared… so did I. It was like I became a ghost. Nothing mattered except for the fact that you were gone. So I cut off my human side. I thought my feelings for you made me weak, but really… it was because it was easier," he said, pausing only to take stock of her reaction. When she nodded, he took a breath and continued.
"I couldn't grieve because I couldn't afford to be human. And even if I'd wanted to, you were gone. There was nothing to grieve over because there were no answers. Part of me still had hope, but not knowing what had happened to you… Lois, I died when you left."
It felt like a punch to the gut.
For weeks, she kept trying to convince herself that Future Clark wasn't this Clark. He couldn't be. If he was, it meant that he loved her. And if he loved her, then that was it for her. Forever. But forever was never a possibility with Future Clark, so it was easy to admit everything she had ever wanted to tell him. It was easy for him, too. She had convinced herself that Future Clark had been nothing but a hope and a dream, because in some ways, he was.
But here he was, saying the exact same thing that the future version of himself had already said about her. This Clark had only lost her for three weeks, but apparently, it didn't matter. Zod's reign didn't matter. His secret didn't matter. At the end of the day, she was the one who mattered.
"You said the same thing to me. I mean… he did," she whispered. Her voice was hoarse with emotion, but she didn't care. Feeling warm skin against her cheek, she sighed and leaned into his touch, finally giving in to the feelings she had tried so tirelessly to keep at bay.
"What else did he tell you?" he asked, but even she could tell he wasn't really interested in her answer. It wasn't the question he wanted to ask, but she'd answer it for him anyway.
"A lot of things," she said with a slight shake of the head, "but I don't care. Smallville… I don't care what he had to say because he isn't you."
"Lois…" he began, but she just shook her head and moved closer to him, placing her hands on his chest to steady herself as she looked deep into his eyes.
"Clark, you—this you, standing right here—is the only one I care about. The other you doesn't exist and I hope to God he never does because you are so much more than he ever was," she said. She knew that he was still worried about that because she was still worried about Lana. Even though she knew in her heart that there was no comparison, she still knew she'd probably need to hear it from him a few more times. But right now, this was about quelling his fears.
"But he told you who he was," he said, his voice almost child-like with regret.
"Only because he was broken. You aren't."
Clark's eyes twinkled and she briefly wondered if it was just emotion or tears, but before she could think twice about it, she found herself wrapped in his embrace. Until now, she never realized how good it felt to be in his arms. He was so large that he nearly enveloped all of her. He was also always warm, like a human furnace. But more than anything, being held by him made all the weight on her shoulders disappear. Maybe it was because he actually could lift her like a feather, but any time she was sad or scared or upset and she found her way into his arms, he always seemed to make everything… lighter.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he said as he pulled away, much to her reluctance. To that, she simply shrugged her shoulders.
"I'm not," she said. Clark's eyebrows shot to his hairline in shock.
"You're not?" he asked and she shook her head.
"As insane as all of this is and as difficult as the past few years have been, I wouldn't trade it for anything. I don't believe in fate or destiny, but I do believe that things happen for a reason. And something tells me that if I had been privy to this little intergalactic nugget of knowledge years ago that my father would probably have you under some microscope in the middle of nowhere America right now."
As much as she wished that Clark had told her his secret a long time ago, she also knew that if he had, she might not be where she was today. She might not have met the people that she had met or had the experiences that she had had. She might not have the job of her dreams or the man standing in front of her. Regardless of the pain and hardship she had gone through, she knew that without it, she might not be where she was right now. And with the way Clark was looking at her, where she was right now was a hell of a place to be.
"I don't believe that. As much as I used to annoy you, I don't think for one minute you would have turned me over to your father," he said and she grinned.
"Okay, you're right, that might be a bit of an exaggeration," she said, then realized the tense he'd used. "And 'used to'? Who says you stopped?"
"Do you usually kiss people that annoy you?" he asked, his voice slipping into the low, gravelly tone that made her toes curl. The cocky attitude was back and this time, she didn't think she was going to be able to resist.
"Apparently," she said as she leaned in, feeling pleasant shivers wrack her spine as his hands found their place on her hips. A faint buzzing was beginning to fill her ears as his scent enveloped her for the second time that day.
"Lois?" she thought he said, but she was too concentrated on his mouth to figure out if it was her imagination or not.
"Hmm?" she managed, waiting for him to move the rest of the distance towards her. When he didn't, she peered up at him, momentarily dejected before she saw the blazing fire in his eyes that set her own body aflame.
"I want you," he said. "I can't keep tiptoeing around it anymore. I want to be with you."
"I do, too," she said, trying with all her might to keep her voice from shaking like her legs were. Whether it was from her emotions, her hormones, or her lack of sleep, she didn't know. The only thing she did know was that there was nothing more in this world that she wanted more than she wanted Clark Kent.
"Really?" he said, his smile practically lighting up the room at her admission. She couldn't help but smile back at his obvious relief.
"Of course, I do, Smallville," she said, bringing one of her hands to cup his cheek. His smile only grew as she gently stroked thumb across his skin, but dimmed as a thought apparently crossed his mind.
"But… what about Oliver?" he asked and she frowned. Was he seriously worried about Oliver after everything that had just happened between them?
"What about Oliver?" she asked. His mouth twitched, then pressed into a firm line before he answered.
"He still loves you. You know that, right?" he asked. His voice was even, but she knew he was feeling anything but calm. The realization that he must have heard her conversation with Oliver at Watchtower came quickly. Though she couldn't remember all the details, how he'd been acting when he found Lois chained up had been evidence enough. She'd seen both men be protective and she'd seen both of them jealous. Their argument at Watchtower had been a byproduct of both and thinking back to Oliver's apology only cemented the realization that he must still have deep feelings for her.
"I'll always love Oliver… but as a friend and nothing more," she said, speaking as slowly and honestly as she could. When Clark finally nodded in acknowledgement, she let out a breath and flashed him a smile, which was followed by one of the largest yawns of her life. When she opened her eyes, Clark was smirking at her.
"What?" she asked, trying to clear the tears from her eyes.
"Sorry I'm not more entertaining," he said. She nudged him and fought off another yawn.
"Hey, you try turning into a zombie and see how you feel after," she said and leaned forward, no longer caring about keeping her desire to touch him a secret. Again, she felt that same sense of weightlessness as his arms came around her.
"Touché. Do I get points for fighting one?" he asked and she laughed into his shoulder. She loved that he could always make her laugh, no matter what.
"Only because you had to fight me and I know that even as a zombie, I kicked your ass," she said, then sighed when she felt his hands start to move against her back. If he wasn't careful, she was going to pass out right there in his arms. Not that he wouldn't be able to carry her, but still. As she felt sleep begin to claim her, his voice pulled her out of her haze.
"You should get some rest," he said as she pulled back and blinked up at him.
"Yeah, I probably should," she said, no longer possessing any willpower to argue.
"Right," he said. A strange look crossed his face as he stood before her and she frowned in confusion. Forcing herself to concentrate, she noticed the air of discomfort around him and was shocked to find out that after everything that had just happened between them, that he had the audacity to be nervous.
"Really? One minute, you maul me, the next, you're nervous to kiss me goodnight?" she asked, watching with satisfaction as pink blossomed across his cheeks.
"Maybe because you keep saying I mauled you," he said, causing her to let out a laugh.
"Mauled, kissed, groped, canoodled… does it really matter what I call it?" she asked.
Apparently, it didn't, because not a second later, he was performing said action. But unlike before, this wasn't a frenzied, ravenous kiss of desperation. No, this was a kiss from a man who was confident in his actions. He kissed her soundly, gathering her up in his arms so that she was pressed completely against him, before slowly releasing her. The sigh she let out was more dramatic than a Hallmark movie, but she didn't care. She was in a complete and utter state of bliss.
"No, I guess it doesn't," he said. Her eyes fluttered open and the already growing smile on her face stretched out to mirror his dopey grin.
"Told you," she said, then kissed him again, simply because she knew she could. "Goodnight, Clark."
"Goodnight, Lois," he said. It was harder than she expected to pull herself away from him, but sleep was a formidable enemy that even Clark couldn't fight for her. As she made her way up the stairs, all she could think about was how she wasn't going to believe her own memory when she woke up. With that thought, she paused in her ascent and called out his name. When he reappeared, she walked down a step, then paused, knowing she'd never get to bed if she got close to him again.
"Thanks for saving me," she said. "And for everything else, too."
A soft expression took ahold of him and she was thankful to have stayed at the top of the stairs because she knew the next time he looked at her like that, she would be in his arms instantly.
"You're welcome, Lois."
She wanted to say more. She could tell he did, too. But at the end of the day, Clark was not only a gentleman, but a mother hen as well, so when he disappeared again, she knew it was only so she'd force herself to sleep. Now that things were out in the open, they had all the time in the world to figure out how to navigate their new relationship. But for now, the only thing that mattered was sleep and the comforting knowledge that Clark would be waiting for her when she woke up.