Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville.
Summary: A moment's weakness can lead to so many things changing... Based after 8X16 and then into Season 9. AU.
Pairing(s): Chlark, mentions of past Chimmy, mentions of Clois. Further undecided.
Tears ran down her face in rivulets as she wept against his blue-clad chest, sobbing heavily as he held her in his muscled arms. "I just don't understand... WHY!?" She cried, holding on as though she were afraid to let go.
"I don't know, Chloe. Maybe it's the painkillers." Clark comforted, holding her just a little bit tighter, wincing as though struck when his words just made her cry harder.
She pulled back, wiping away at her cheeks and shaking her head as though trying to dislodge the intense emotions she was feeling. "I'm sorry Clark, you came over here to talk about Tess, and I'm..." She hiccuped as she weakly struggled out of his arms.
Clark smiled lightly down at her, holding her tighter. "It's fine, that can wait. Do you want me to talk to Jimmy?"
She shook her head again, staring up at him through her damp, limp hair, eyes glimmering in the lighting. "No, he- He told me not to ca-call, or write, or, Orrrr..." She cut off into angst-filled cries, burying her head back into his chest.
Clark glared at the wall above the blonde's head, anger filling him at the thought that the geeky photographer had done this to his best friend.
"I- I don't know what I did wrong! He just said that I didn't trust him, that I trusted Davis and you, but not him." She lamented, words slightly muffled by his shirt. "There's always something."
Clark looked away, the truth of her words hitting him hard. "It's my fault, he just doesn't know why..."
"Clark," The ex-reporter cut across his self-flagellation, blonde hair brushing his chin as she shook her head at his words. "Stop it, it's not your fault, and it's nothing to do with your secret. It's just... He just doesn't trust ME!" She growled.
He flinched as the tiny blonde rubbed against him, grasping his shirt as though imagining it were Jimmy's neck.
"Chloe." He murmured, feeling her brush against his lap in a decidedly non-innocent way. "Chloe!" He grunted.
She froze.
For a brief moment Clark was left with 5'4 of petite woman kneeling in his lap in a way that was a bit too comfortable; A fact that he was well aware of.
"Clark?" His name, whispered as though afraid he was going to vanish, echoed as though bouncing through the otherwise empty farmhouse.
"Chloe." For a moment everything was silent, as though the very world around them had frozen.
He felt something sliding against him, and looking down noticed Chloe was shucking her red coat, letting it slide down her form and pool on the seat next to them. "Chloe...?" Chlo-Mmph."
Whatever he was about to say was cut off by her mouth meeting his, frenzied and struggling against him.
He pushed back, eyes glazed in lust and yet desperate to make sure they didn't do something they would later regret. "Chloe, we can't do this, think about what it would do to Jimmy."
She gazed into his eyes, Bright green meeting deep blue. "I'm not doing this to Jimmy, Clark." She leaned forward, reclaiming his lips.
He tried to think otherwise, about how this would hurt Jimmy, how Chloe would regret this later, about Lois, about anything other than her beautiful, pale pink lips against his...
That was three months ago.
And right now Chloe was looking down at the white plastic in her hand and regretting her moment of weakness.
Her hands roamed across his chest, coming to rest on his flexing shoulders as he shrugged his shirt off, trying to push his arms through before finally getting impatient and tearing through it with little effort.
She moaned at the display, pushing herself against him with increasing vigour. "Clark!" She gasped, rubbing against his jeans.
He shuddered as she trailed down his chest with trembling fingers, breathing heavily. "Chloe!"
Her fingers met their prize, pulling at the zip of his jeans, fumbling with the material. Chloe pulled at the tight fit jeans, pulling them down to his knees and letting him kick them off.
She knelt there, inches away from the massive bulge throbbing in his boxers, gulping. "Wow."
God, what was she going to tell Clark?
Hell, what was she going to tell Lois?
She whimpered as she felt thick fingers trailing down her stomach, sliding over her hips and coming to a rest against the V of her thighs, rubbing her snatch. "Oh, Clark!"
He growled against her shoulder as he thrust against her hand.
It felt even worse that this was the only reason that she regretted it.