The Age of Innocence
Title: The Age of Innocence
Pairing: Clark/ofc, background Clois
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Adultery
Summary: Set about ten years in the future. Clark tries to recapture what he's lost.
"Where are we?" he asked.
She didn't need to think. "The field near my dad's deer stand. He's planted it with imperial clover. It smells so good." He always liked the field scenario. Sometimes they would get caught out there in the rain, sometimes they would go skinny dipping in the pond at the bottom of the hill.
"What are we doing?" He liked the farm in general; once in a while she would go off-site, make-outs at the drive-in, but mostly he liked the farm. His fingers brushed over her clit. Oh yeah. He really liked the farm.
"We're just lying there, on my nana's old eight-point star quilt she made me when I was baby. You've got a blue t-shirt and jeans on, and I'm wearing an old sun-dress. With straps that tie. One of them's falling down my shoulder."
"Did we take a picnic?"
When didn't they? "Cold chicken and peach pie. It's afternoon. The sun is shining. We're just lying there. Holding hands."
His fingers picked up speed. "Are we doing anything else?"
He wanted something else. Yay for her. Sometimes hand-holding was as far as he wanted to take it, and it was really, really hard to get off on that.
"Yeah. We're almost -- well, I'm almost asleep. The sun is so warm. And then, just as I'm about to drift off, you kiss me."
She gave him a hopeful smile. Maybe he would kiss her this time. He didn't always. But maybe this time... He was looking at her so tenderly. As if he cared and this was real and not some weird kinky shit they pulled when his wife was out of the office. He looked like he would. And then he did, leaning in and brushing her lips softly. Gentle, but still provocative. The perfect wake-up kiss.
While they kissed a finger slid inside her. She moaned. No man or machine could do what he could. She couldn't even replicate it.
"You're so pretty when you're sleepy," he said.
"I can't believe I did. I just feel so safe with you."
He kissed her again, a little more deeply, a little more toe-curlingly. His finger worked inside her, getting her so close she could barely breathe.
"You trust me," he said. "No matter what. I'll always keep you safe. You don't question me. You know I'll always be there."
"Ye-eh-eh-eh-essss," she hissed as her body took flight under his hand.
Falling back to earth she snuck a glance at his trousers. He looked ready to take off himself; maybe this time he would want to.
She lifted herself on tip-toe and kissed him, lightly, just at the corner of his mouth. He didn't respond too well to the frontal assault, but sometimes she could successfully initiate a flank attack. Today must be her lucky day; he kissed her back. He even lingered, as if he wanted her to unzip --
"Don't." His hand on her wrist was a steel clamp.
"I just wanted ... to stay outside a little longer. Don't you want to enjoy the weather? While it lasts?" She tilted her hips forward. He felt as if he could enjoy the weather until the flakes flew.
"You said you trusted me. I need to know I can trust you."
"You can. I won't tell anyone. It's not as if I want anyone here to know either."
He looked abashed for a moment. It didn't last.
"Every relationship needs boundaries if it's going to work. I've learned that the hard way."
"Clark, what we do? We've already crossed the Rubicon. What I don't understand is why you don't want to march on to triumph."
He looked at her stonily, as if suggesting he actually come was offensive. "You said you trusted me."
"I do -- "
"If you trusted me you wouldn't keep questioning me about this."
"I'm just trying to understand -- "
"I should go."
And he went.
He avoided her after that. Dumbest move ever in her opinion. Nothing signaled "inappropriate relationship!" like no longer speaking to your intern. She spent the next few weeks tip-toeing around, smiling when the Planet's Pitbull marched by her desk, smiling at the knowing glances in the break-room, smiling when her advisor asked her what the hell she'd been doing all semester.
She was done smiling by the time the Happy Merry party rolled around, which she only went to because the Planet gave everyone two free drink coupons. The Wife, of course, was front and center, singing some hokey karaoke from a hair band that had died before she herself was born.
Steve from Sports sidled up next her at the bar and ordered a Jack and Coke. His had been the most knowing of the glances. She hoped he choked on his ice.
"Thank you everyone! That was Here I Go Again!" yelled Lois from the stage. Cheers went up from the audience. "And now we're gonna sweeten it up a bit with a little Poison! Every Rose Has It's Thorn!" More cheers. She wondered how long it would take to open a vein with a cocktail toothpick.
Steve smirked at her over his unfortunately large cubes.
"So how old are you anyway? Twenty-one?"
"Twenty-two. What's it to you?"
"That sounds about right. He doesn't usually go for blondes, though."
Dick. "And what the hell would you know about him or me or anything anyway?"
He shrugged. "If you're in the mood for an actual fuck, I know a guy who could be of some assistance."
"A guy? Meaning you. Aren't you just a regular humanitarian."
"I do what what I can."
She should pick up his drink and throw it in his face, but he was right. She did want an actual fuck. God knew she needed it. Naked, boozy, seedy motel room and all. Besides, it wasn't as if she was going to be hired after graduation.
"Fine. Give me five minutes. I'll meet you out front."
He sucked down the rest of his drink. "You can count on me."
She'd better be able to, dammit.
Pairing: Clark/ofc, background Clois
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Adultery
Summary: Set about ten years in the future. Clark tries to recapture what he's lost.
"Where are we?" he asked.
She didn't need to think. "The field near my dad's deer stand. He's planted it with imperial clover. It smells so good." He always liked the field scenario. Sometimes they would get caught out there in the rain, sometimes they would go skinny dipping in the pond at the bottom of the hill.
"What are we doing?" He liked the farm in general; once in a while she would go off-site, make-outs at the drive-in, but mostly he liked the farm. His fingers brushed over her clit. Oh yeah. He really liked the farm.
"We're just lying there, on my nana's old eight-point star quilt she made me when I was baby. You've got a blue t-shirt and jeans on, and I'm wearing an old sun-dress. With straps that tie. One of them's falling down my shoulder."
"Did we take a picnic?"
When didn't they? "Cold chicken and peach pie. It's afternoon. The sun is shining. We're just lying there. Holding hands."
His fingers picked up speed. "Are we doing anything else?"
He wanted something else. Yay for her. Sometimes hand-holding was as far as he wanted to take it, and it was really, really hard to get off on that.
"Yeah. We're almost -- well, I'm almost asleep. The sun is so warm. And then, just as I'm about to drift off, you kiss me."
She gave him a hopeful smile. Maybe he would kiss her this time. He didn't always. But maybe this time... He was looking at her so tenderly. As if he cared and this was real and not some weird kinky shit they pulled when his wife was out of the office. He looked like he would. And then he did, leaning in and brushing her lips softly. Gentle, but still provocative. The perfect wake-up kiss.
While they kissed a finger slid inside her. She moaned. No man or machine could do what he could. She couldn't even replicate it.
"You're so pretty when you're sleepy," he said.
"I can't believe I did. I just feel so safe with you."
He kissed her again, a little more deeply, a little more toe-curlingly. His finger worked inside her, getting her so close she could barely breathe.
"You trust me," he said. "No matter what. I'll always keep you safe. You don't question me. You know I'll always be there."
"Ye-eh-eh-eh-essss," she hissed as her body took flight under his hand.
Falling back to earth she snuck a glance at his trousers. He looked ready to take off himself; maybe this time he would want to.
She lifted herself on tip-toe and kissed him, lightly, just at the corner of his mouth. He didn't respond too well to the frontal assault, but sometimes she could successfully initiate a flank attack. Today must be her lucky day; he kissed her back. He even lingered, as if he wanted her to unzip --
"Don't." His hand on her wrist was a steel clamp.
"I just wanted ... to stay outside a little longer. Don't you want to enjoy the weather? While it lasts?" She tilted her hips forward. He felt as if he could enjoy the weather until the flakes flew.
"You said you trusted me. I need to know I can trust you."
"You can. I won't tell anyone. It's not as if I want anyone here to know either."
He looked abashed for a moment. It didn't last.
"Every relationship needs boundaries if it's going to work. I've learned that the hard way."
"Clark, what we do? We've already crossed the Rubicon. What I don't understand is why you don't want to march on to triumph."
He looked at her stonily, as if suggesting he actually come was offensive. "You said you trusted me."
"I do -- "
"If you trusted me you wouldn't keep questioning me about this."
"I'm just trying to understand -- "
"I should go."
And he went.
He avoided her after that. Dumbest move ever in her opinion. Nothing signaled "inappropriate relationship!" like no longer speaking to your intern. She spent the next few weeks tip-toeing around, smiling when the Planet's Pitbull marched by her desk, smiling at the knowing glances in the break-room, smiling when her advisor asked her what the hell she'd been doing all semester.
She was done smiling by the time the Happy Merry party rolled around, which she only went to because the Planet gave everyone two free drink coupons. The Wife, of course, was front and center, singing some hokey karaoke from a hair band that had died before she herself was born.
Steve from Sports sidled up next her at the bar and ordered a Jack and Coke. His had been the most knowing of the glances. She hoped he choked on his ice.
"Thank you everyone! That was Here I Go Again!" yelled Lois from the stage. Cheers went up from the audience. "And now we're gonna sweeten it up a bit with a little Poison! Every Rose Has It's Thorn!" More cheers. She wondered how long it would take to open a vein with a cocktail toothpick.
Steve smirked at her over his unfortunately large cubes.
"So how old are you anyway? Twenty-one?"
"Twenty-two. What's it to you?"
"That sounds about right. He doesn't usually go for blondes, though."
Dick. "And what the hell would you know about him or me or anything anyway?"
He shrugged. "If you're in the mood for an actual fuck, I know a guy who could be of some assistance."
"A guy? Meaning you. Aren't you just a regular humanitarian."
"I do what what I can."
She should pick up his drink and throw it in his face, but he was right. She did want an actual fuck. God knew she needed it. Naked, boozy, seedy motel room and all. Besides, it wasn't as if she was going to be hired after graduation.
"Fine. Give me five minutes. I'll meet you out front."
He sucked down the rest of his drink. "You can count on me."
She'd better be able to, dammit.