Smallville Fic: The Story of Us #16 - Letting Go
Letting go wasn’t something Clark Kent often allowed himself.
See, it was a luxury he couldn’t afford. The superpowers and all. He had to constantly be vigilant. No grip to hard, no touch too insistent.
He’d grown up like that. And he understood why his parents had been so protective. It was something he carried with him, always.
Made the teenage years a living hell. It was a tad difficult to explain your fears of killing her to your girlfriend when he didn’t even know your secret.
It had changed a bit, somewhere along the line. He’d grown up, manned up, and spoken to Jor-El. Trained in an ice fortress in the middle of the Arctic, learning about his abilities, learning how to control them.
But still, he kept a pretty tight leash on things. Still felt he had to. He was serving humanity, and humanity, even with their strength that he observed on a daily basis, was physically fragile.
But with her? He allowed himself to let go.
He’d torn more of her clothes than he could count. Pretty lucky he made a decent salary at the Planet since he was constantly restocking shirts, bras, and underwear.
Not that she complained. Well, not really. Complaints were usually lodged with a sexy smirk, a quirked eyebrow, and a breathy pant before she leaned in to capture his lips again.
Maybe because she understood, better than anyone. Maybe because, really, she needed to let go as much as he did. Maybe because, when he looked into her eyes as he moved inside her, he saw peace, and heaven, and the sun, and all the good things in the world, and he knew in that moment, every time, that he, that they deserved it all.
He felt her teeth nip his bottom lip as his fingers curled around hers, their joined hands above her head as the bed creaked in a rhythmic symphony as they moved.
“I love you,” he whispered raggedly, his lips brushing her chin.
“I love you too,” she responded with a tongue flick his lips.
No, Clark Kent didn’t often allow himself to let go.
Only with Lois Lane.
See, it was a luxury he couldn’t afford. The superpowers and all. He had to constantly be vigilant. No grip to hard, no touch too insistent.
He’d grown up like that. And he understood why his parents had been so protective. It was something he carried with him, always.
Made the teenage years a living hell. It was a tad difficult to explain your fears of killing her to your girlfriend when he didn’t even know your secret.
It had changed a bit, somewhere along the line. He’d grown up, manned up, and spoken to Jor-El. Trained in an ice fortress in the middle of the Arctic, learning about his abilities, learning how to control them.
But still, he kept a pretty tight leash on things. Still felt he had to. He was serving humanity, and humanity, even with their strength that he observed on a daily basis, was physically fragile.
But with her? He allowed himself to let go.
He’d torn more of her clothes than he could count. Pretty lucky he made a decent salary at the Planet since he was constantly restocking shirts, bras, and underwear.
Not that she complained. Well, not really. Complaints were usually lodged with a sexy smirk, a quirked eyebrow, and a breathy pant before she leaned in to capture his lips again.
Maybe because she understood, better than anyone. Maybe because, really, she needed to let go as much as he did. Maybe because, when he looked into her eyes as he moved inside her, he saw peace, and heaven, and the sun, and all the good things in the world, and he knew in that moment, every time, that he, that they deserved it all.
He felt her teeth nip his bottom lip as his fingers curled around hers, their joined hands above her head as the bed creaked in a rhythmic symphony as they moved.
“I love you,” he whispered raggedly, his lips brushing her chin.
“I love you too,” she responded with a tongue flick his lips.
No, Clark Kent didn’t often allow himself to let go.
Only with Lois Lane.