Chapter Two
Even just coming out of sleep Chloe can tell something isn't right. Firstly, it's hot. Way too hot. Secondly, there's something gritty blowing in her face. Chloe coughs and sputters and feels something behind her. Clark. He has a grip on her like he's drowning and she's the only thing that can keep him afloat. Not to mention he's got his…
Whoa…
That's one hell of a boner
pressing against her bum. She'd always figured Clark would be well endowed but
not like this. She elbows him, trying to wake him up, but Clark isn't
interested in her elbow. He's interested in her ass and grinding his needy
flesh against her, seeking relief from the erection he's waking up with.
"Mmmm, Chloe," He
moans. "Take it."
Her face heats, intensely,
wondering what the fuck he's dreaming right now He's grinding her hard and slow
and moaning those words...take it?
"Clark, wake up,"
she says, but he's not listening.
Chloe decides it's not in
their best interest for her to enjoy the press of his hardness to her bottom,
or his thumb, which has sought out the hardened bud of her nipple. She's going
to ignore the fact she's shocked that it's her name that
he's just moaned in his sleep instead of Lana's. She tries not to let it make
her feel so damned happy because it's just a dream, and dreams don't mean shit.
"Clark!"
He starts and looks around,
but he hasn't released her. He hasn't even loosened his grip and his hips are
still moving in a ghost of their former motions, the way you breathe in the
same pattern you had during a hard cry, even after the tears have stopped. His
eyes struggle to adjust to the bright light under a cloudless sky. Sand is
still blowing, though not as hard as when she'd first awakened. When he
realizes Chloe's trying to extricate herself from his grip, that his morning
wood is straining for freedom in his jeans and eager to feel her warm flesh, he
lets her go and scoots back to give her some space. He looks embarrassed and
horny at the same time. Chloe refuses to laugh at him. After all, she wouldn't
want to be laughed at if she was in his shoes.
"Where the hell are
we?"
"I have no clue,"
Chloe answers.
Already she's covered in a
thin sheen of sweat. The ugly Christmas sweater that helped keep her from
freezing to death just yesterday was about to roast her alive in the heat of
the desert. Without thinking she pulls the shirt off and stands there in the
lacy, dark blue bra she'd put on before everything happened. She pretends it's
no big deal that the bra is just lace and leaves nothing to the imagination,
that her nipples are clearly visible and proudly poking against the flimsy
material that covers them. She pretends Clark's not staring openly at not just
her breasts, but at the sweat popping out all over her body. They'll need
water, fast, if they're going to make it in this heat.
"I wore a lacy bra
thinking I might get lucky at the party," she jokes.
"You're far from
lucky," he says. He tears his eyes away from the display of flesh before
him and allows them to wander the landscape surrounding them. It's nothing but
sand for as far as the eye can see.
"Hear anything?"
Clark closes his eyes and
concentrates. "Water, very faint, six or seven miles out, I think."
"You can hear that far
out?" she asks, delighted. "That's great, Clark. You're getting some
strength back. Maybe you're soaking up the sunlight and it's having an
effect."
"Let me try
something," he says, taking a breath. He blows over her and it's cold,
gusty, inhumanly strong.
"My breath is coming
back," he says, happily.
"Brush your teeth
first, next time," she says, only half joking. He grins anyway and nods in
the direction he heard the water.
The heat isn't necessarily
a bad change from the freezing cold but it is, according to the location of the
sun, still morning. The heat's coming in fast and she can imagine just how ugly
it'll get for her, especially with so much exposed skin, so she attempts to
hold the sweater up as a makeshift shelter.
"So, this is better
than the cold, but still an extreme," she says. "I wonder why he
moved us to such a harsh environment, and why somewhere with no food
source?"
"I don't think he
means to kill us," Clark says. "He won't throw anything at us we
can't overcome. I'm sure of it."
Chloe agrees, but that
doesn't mean Jor-El will make it easy on them, either. She glances at Clark as
they walk, sees he's sweating but not nearly as much as she is. Yeah, he's not
as affected by the extreme changes in temperature as she is. She also notices
he's trying to ignore the fact that his dick is still hard, a long, thick
column of flesh pressed against his left thigh. She looks away from it, trying
to keep from embarrassing him, when he suddenly stops.
"Come here,"
Clark says. "I can run us there faster than we can walk."
Clark reaches for her but
Chloe hesitates. "It's really hot, Clark. You're not at full strength. I
don't want you to hurt yourself."
"I feel stronger
today."
Chloe cocks her head to the
side, openly skeptical.
"I really do," he
insists.
She allows him to scoop her
up and he does it as though she weighs nothing. Maybe he's not just trying to
assuage her fears. Maybe he means it. When he takes of running, moving at least
30mph, she knows it's true. Clark's getting faster, and stronger.
They arrive at a place with
a shrub sticking up, out of the sand but that's it. Clark sets Chloe down and
they examine the area, seeing nothing.
"There's running
water," Clark insists. "I hear it."
"Must be close,"
says Chloe. "This bush has a source of water. Maybe there's an underground
cave or-"
There's suddenly nothing
beneath Chloe's feet but air. As she falls a scream rips from her. It's hard.
Primal.
"Chloe!"
She hits the ground, hard,
feels her ankle twist and the wind is knocked from her body. She looks up, sees
that the shrub is actually the top of a tree that juts up from the ground
beside a rushing stream. She's in a cavern brightly lit from several other
holes in the ground above. There's a source of wind somewhere that blows her
hair.
Clark drops easily to the
ground. It's at least a twelve foot fall, maybe a little less, but it has no
impact on him. He's by her side a moment later, checking her over with eyes
full of fear.
"Chloe!"
"I'm ok," she
says, coughing and trying to catch her breath. "My ankle didn't do so
well, though."
He pulls her right shoe
off. Her ankle's swelling right before their eyes.
"The stream," he
says.
He scoops her up and takes
her to the water where she plunges her foot in.
"Cold! So cold,"
she says, hissing at the frigid water.
"It'll help with
swelling," he says. "Do you think you broke it?"
Chloe shakes her head.
"Sprained it, though."
Clark scans the cavern once
he's sure she'll be ok. It's open, airy. "I'm gonna see where that path
leads. I'll be right back."
He hurries off, but returns
a few seconds later, shaking his head.
"The path just goes
outside. It's kinda twisty and bendy, but it just leads outside."
"It's cool in
here," Chloe said. "Compared to outside, at least."
"You're cold?"
"No, it's nice,
actually," she says. "It can't be warmer than 85° in here. With low
humidity it's not bad."
"I'm having a hard
time judging temperature," he confesses. "Another sign my abilities
are coming back."
Clark's eyes meet hers.
"What's going on, Chloe? Why is he moving us around?"
"Ask him," Chloe
says.
She knows it's pointless.
Clark's too stubborn. Just like both his father's AI and his adopted father.
She isn't thinking when she reaches out to push a strand of hair off his
forehead. Her hand moves to cup his face, the beard stubble scratchy in the
palm of her hand. Clark closes his eyes and sighs, enjoying the feel of her
touch.
"You scared me,"
he says. "I thought you were going into shock and I can't get you
help."
"Sorry. Does it help
to know I scared myself?"
They laugh together and
Chloe drops her hand. The laughter subsides into an awkward silence before
Clark and Chloe drink from the pristine stream.
"My foot is nearly
numb."
Clark lifts her leg and
looks at the ankle. "Another half an hour or so for the swelling," he
says, putting it back into the water. "I'll go see what's around us. I'll
see if I can't find something to eat, and something to make a splint."
He touches her face.
"Yell if you need me. I'll get back as soon as I can."
A moment later he surprises
her with a kiss to her forehead, leaves her his watch to keep track of time,
and takes off running. Chloe waits another hour before she removes her foot.
The cold has done wonders for the swelling. She lies down beside the tree and
rests her leg in the crook of some branches, keeping her ankle elevated above
her heart.
"This is your fault,
tree," Chloe complains. "So yeah, I'm gonna stick my foot on you. No
complaining."
The tree answers with a
serene rustle of its upper branches, as if to shrug, and agree that was fair.
By the
time Clark returns, Chloe's waking from a nap. According to the watch he's been gone six hours.
"Desert, everywhere,"
Clark says, "but I did find an oasis. It's above ground but there's
nothing to eat."
Chloe nods but she's
disappointed about their food situation. "I should've stuffed some salmon
in my pockets."
"Gross," he says,
frowning.
They laugh together but
it's an uneasy sound. They have water, which will keep them alive, at least,
but Chloe's belly growls in hunger.
"Doesn't the desert
get super cold at night?" she asks.
Clark nods and starts
gathering stones to heat with his heat vision, telling Chloe to give him the
word when she needed warming up.
"I need a bath,"
he says. Chloe notices he's worked up a sweat from all the running.
"You'll be good and keep your head turned?"
"I make no
promises!" She says, watching a cloud pass by overhead. Clark laughs.
"Ok, so I peeped a
little last night," he confesses. "Just once. Sue me."
Chloe's genuinely shocked.
She'd been convinced he hadn't looked. Now she knows he had peeped after all,
and for some reason it pleases her. Maybe the reason he doesn't want her really
isn't because he thinks she's ugly, as she's feared for years. It was a silly
fear. She knows she's not ugly, and that Clark's not shallow, but she's never
believed she can compete with Lana in the beauty department. It's such a
shallow fear, and her inner feminist was ashamed of her, but she also knows
it's her hang up,
not Clark's.
She slides her eyes over to
the man himself and sees him standing from the water. It cascades over every
rippling muscle in his body and she wants to moan at the sight, and at the
power of the sheer lust she feels for him. Not to mention the love that makes
her chest warm at the sight, even the thought, of him. She barely manages to
turn her head before he can catch her washing dirt and sweat from his body.
God, if he's not beautiful. Like an angel fallen from the heavens to torture
her with unrequited love.
When his bath is over and
his clothes are scrubbed clean and hung up, he sets himself to using his now
ripped up sweater to fashion Chloe a splint. Later, he heats the stones until
they glow, and the cavern is nice and warm. Later, he's holding her in his
arms, ready for sleep after a hard day running around in the desert.
"I'm glad it's you
Jor-El chose to send with me," Clark says, as sleep closed in on him.
"Me too," Chloe
says. His breathing levels out. He's asleep, and her throat tightens with
emotion when she whispers, "I love you, Clark."
Clark's arms tighten around
her in his sleep, as though he heard her, understood the message, and he pulls
her closer.
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