tthjinni
31st May 2004, 22:09
Title: Sunday Morning
Author: Jinni (druscilla@cox.net)
Rated: Pg13
Pairing: Chloe/Lex
Disclaimer: All things Smallville belong to DC Comics, the WB, et al. The song “Sunday Morning” is sung by Maroon 5.
Distribution: The normal places.
Summary: A lazy Sunday morning for our favorite couple. A sequel to “Uninvited”.
~*~*~
//Sunday morning rain is falling
Steal some covers share some skin
Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable
You twist to fit the mold that I am in//
~*~*~
Chloe rolls over, nestling her face into the crook of my arm and shoulder. Her soft, even breathing fills the dark silence of my bedroom, and I feel content for the first time in forever, just watching her sleep. Her hair is longer than what it was the last time I saw her, the day she left and took a part of my heart with her. The golden blonde strands are tussled from our activities last night. Sleep could have something to do with it, I suppose. But that part of me that’s purely masculine in nature likes to think that the bed head look she’s currently sporting has more to do with the way I loved her into the early hours of the morning and less to do with tossing and turning in the bed while she slept.
The smile on my face right now is genuine. Some would say it’s the first genuine smile they’ve seen in years and maybe those nebulous ‘they’ are right. I love watching Chloe sleep. I enjoyed it even back then, before I realized how much I loved her. Before she walked out of my life. Should I wake her up? No, it’s a Sunday morning. A rainy one if the splatters on the window across the room are any indication. I know for a fact that she doesn’t have anywhere else to be. The security detail I hired years ago to watch her is always quite adamant when insisting that, yes, Chloe stays inside all day on Sundays. That’s fine with me.
Except today I want her to stay right here, in my arms.
Reaching out, I caress her bare arm, rubbing lightly over the warm, silken skin. When she left three years ago, I didn’t really think I’d ever see her again. For the longest time I wasn’t even sure if I wanted her to, either. It took nearly a month after she said that final goodbye for me to admit how I felt about her – that me, Lex Luthor, had fallen in love with one of my best friends. It figured that I got the memo after she was finished making it pretty clear that she was moving on with her life, without me anywhere in the picture.
Getting Clark to open up about the entire mess had taken another eight or nine months after that, mostly due to the fact that he and I can’t stand one another. The morally upright Clark Kent had somewhere along the line become ‘too good’ for his old pal Lex. No longer capable or willing to turn a blind eye to some of my more questionable business practices. Clark told me off long before Chloe took measures to leave me.
But, at my insistent behest, we sat down for a talk about said blonde reporter and why she was doing the things she did. Of course, Clark couldn’t help but needle me about it. Saying that Chloe was better off now that she’d made this decision. That being friends with me would only ‘drag her down’. Oh, he told me why she’d left, but he did it with all the animosity he’d stored up within himself to that point. He saw it as a blessing that she had taken her leave of me.
I saw it as a move of brilliance on her part, even if it did cut me to my very core.
It hadn’t taken much in the two years following that to keep an eye on her. To watch as she danced her way skillfully up the ladder of success. She didn’t need to be my friend…or girlfriend…to make it. She was talented. But she needed to prove that to herself. When she won her first award for a particularly stunning investigative piece, I almost went to her then. But, somehow, I just knew that one accolade wouldn’t be enough to quench her thirst. It would only make her keep wondering if she could have won more.
The second award was what clinched things. One could have been a fluke, but two said something. Two said that she had ‘made it’.
When I heard that she was going to be on the list for the charity ball…well, elation doesn’t even begin to cover how I felt. Even now I wonder if she picked up on that – the giddiness that was lurking beneath my ever-present cool façade. She alone knows me well enough to see through that. No one else at the ball would have ever been the wiser.
~*~*~
// Fingers trace your every outline
Paint a picture with my hands
Back and forth we sway like branches in a storm
Change the weather still together when it ends//
~*~*~
She shifts to fit against my body, her backside snuggling up against my front. I run my fingers over her smooth skin, memorizing every inch of her with my fingertips alone. She’s beautiful in every way – face and form, mind and spirit. She isn’t one of those weak willed women that would only want to please me.
No, she has a mind all her own and an agenda to match.
Will she move in with me this week?
Doubtful. I don’t expect her to, for all that I joked about it last night at the ball. She deserves to be wined and dined, wooed in the true Luthor sense of the word. Then and only then would I expect her to acquiesce to my request – and only if I had won her over.
Judging by last night, however, I won’t have to try very hard. That doesn’t mean I won’t do it anyway.
“Lex?”
My fingers stop moving over her skin, and I lean forward, mouth to her ear. “Yes?”
“Why’re you awake so early?”
I shrug against her bare back. “I wanted to watch you sleep.”
“Oh. Okay.”
She laughs softly, burrowing back further, rubbing her lithe body up against mine. The sheet bunches up between us and I shift just long enough to move it, before allowing myself to lie once more against her.
“I missed you,” I whisper into her hair, wrapping my arms around her, fingers now trailing lightly on the smoothness of her stomach.
“I know,” she sighs, but it’s not a sad sound. She’s happy, and I’m happy because of that. “I missed you, too.”
“I know.” Cocky – yes. True – yes. I knew she missed me the second I saw her face last night, when I cut in on her dance. If there had ever been a doubt in my mind, that maybe she’d moved on after all those years, it fled under the brilliance of her eyes.
“Lex?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
She giggles, shaking in my arms. “I know.”
~*~*~
// But things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do
Sunday morning rain is falling and I'm calling out to you
Singing someday it'll bring me back to you
Find a way to bring myself home to you //
~*~*~
She rolls over, green eyes boring into mine, half-lidded with the remnants of sleep. “I won’t quit writing.”
“I don’t want you to,” I respond in a manner that is just as cut and dried as the way she presented her statement to me. “I want you to be happy.”
“I thought I was,” she whispers. “But it was always so hollow…with no one to share it with.”
I know what she means, because its how I felt without her there to share in the minute joys of my own accomplishments. She was one of the only true friends I ever had, even outside of the love I started feeling for her somewhere along the way. When she left…I had no one.
“I’m sorry.”
My eyebrows go up. “Don’t be. I told you last night that I understand.”
“But I hurt you.”
I shrug. “You did what you had to do. I survived it.”
“And yet you still love me,” she shakes her head with wonder. “We’ll take this slow, right?”
Three years of waiting wants me to tell her that, no, we won’t take it slow.
However, I’d rather wait another three years to solidify our relationship, bring it to a more permanent arrangement, than to have her leave again.
“We can go as slow as you need,” I smile, kissing her forehead. The soft mounds of her chest press against me as I pull her in closer, breathing in that unique sweet scent that is entirely Chloe. Either she’s never changed her body wash in all these years, or that sweetness really is just her.
“Well,” she purrs, pressing herself against that part of me that obviously doesn’t want to go slow. The part of me that’s always awake and raring to go first thing in the morning. “Slow doesn’t mean…you know…that we stop doing what we did last night.”
“Oh, really, Miss Sullivan?”
“God,” she moans, tilting her head back. “I’ve missed that. You can call me that in bed for the rest of our lives, Lex. Just the way you say it….”
That gets a laugh out of me, though I’m smart enough to hide it in the flesh of her neck as I start kissing the soft skin there.
I don’t plan on calling her Miss Sullivan for the rest of our lives, no matter how sexy she thinks I sound when I say it.
One day I will call her Mrs. Luthor – and I can guarantee she’s going to like that a whole lot more.
~*~*~
// That may be all I need
In darkness she is all I see
Come and rest your bones with me
Driving slow on Sunday morning
And I never want to leave //
~*~End Fic~*~
Author: Jinni (druscilla@cox.net)
Rated: Pg13
Pairing: Chloe/Lex
Disclaimer: All things Smallville belong to DC Comics, the WB, et al. The song “Sunday Morning” is sung by Maroon 5.
Distribution: The normal places.
Summary: A lazy Sunday morning for our favorite couple. A sequel to “Uninvited”.
~*~*~
//Sunday morning rain is falling
Steal some covers share some skin
Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable
You twist to fit the mold that I am in//
~*~*~
Chloe rolls over, nestling her face into the crook of my arm and shoulder. Her soft, even breathing fills the dark silence of my bedroom, and I feel content for the first time in forever, just watching her sleep. Her hair is longer than what it was the last time I saw her, the day she left and took a part of my heart with her. The golden blonde strands are tussled from our activities last night. Sleep could have something to do with it, I suppose. But that part of me that’s purely masculine in nature likes to think that the bed head look she’s currently sporting has more to do with the way I loved her into the early hours of the morning and less to do with tossing and turning in the bed while she slept.
The smile on my face right now is genuine. Some would say it’s the first genuine smile they’ve seen in years and maybe those nebulous ‘they’ are right. I love watching Chloe sleep. I enjoyed it even back then, before I realized how much I loved her. Before she walked out of my life. Should I wake her up? No, it’s a Sunday morning. A rainy one if the splatters on the window across the room are any indication. I know for a fact that she doesn’t have anywhere else to be. The security detail I hired years ago to watch her is always quite adamant when insisting that, yes, Chloe stays inside all day on Sundays. That’s fine with me.
Except today I want her to stay right here, in my arms.
Reaching out, I caress her bare arm, rubbing lightly over the warm, silken skin. When she left three years ago, I didn’t really think I’d ever see her again. For the longest time I wasn’t even sure if I wanted her to, either. It took nearly a month after she said that final goodbye for me to admit how I felt about her – that me, Lex Luthor, had fallen in love with one of my best friends. It figured that I got the memo after she was finished making it pretty clear that she was moving on with her life, without me anywhere in the picture.
Getting Clark to open up about the entire mess had taken another eight or nine months after that, mostly due to the fact that he and I can’t stand one another. The morally upright Clark Kent had somewhere along the line become ‘too good’ for his old pal Lex. No longer capable or willing to turn a blind eye to some of my more questionable business practices. Clark told me off long before Chloe took measures to leave me.
But, at my insistent behest, we sat down for a talk about said blonde reporter and why she was doing the things she did. Of course, Clark couldn’t help but needle me about it. Saying that Chloe was better off now that she’d made this decision. That being friends with me would only ‘drag her down’. Oh, he told me why she’d left, but he did it with all the animosity he’d stored up within himself to that point. He saw it as a blessing that she had taken her leave of me.
I saw it as a move of brilliance on her part, even if it did cut me to my very core.
It hadn’t taken much in the two years following that to keep an eye on her. To watch as she danced her way skillfully up the ladder of success. She didn’t need to be my friend…or girlfriend…to make it. She was talented. But she needed to prove that to herself. When she won her first award for a particularly stunning investigative piece, I almost went to her then. But, somehow, I just knew that one accolade wouldn’t be enough to quench her thirst. It would only make her keep wondering if she could have won more.
The second award was what clinched things. One could have been a fluke, but two said something. Two said that she had ‘made it’.
When I heard that she was going to be on the list for the charity ball…well, elation doesn’t even begin to cover how I felt. Even now I wonder if she picked up on that – the giddiness that was lurking beneath my ever-present cool façade. She alone knows me well enough to see through that. No one else at the ball would have ever been the wiser.
~*~*~
// Fingers trace your every outline
Paint a picture with my hands
Back and forth we sway like branches in a storm
Change the weather still together when it ends//
~*~*~
She shifts to fit against my body, her backside snuggling up against my front. I run my fingers over her smooth skin, memorizing every inch of her with my fingertips alone. She’s beautiful in every way – face and form, mind and spirit. She isn’t one of those weak willed women that would only want to please me.
No, she has a mind all her own and an agenda to match.
Will she move in with me this week?
Doubtful. I don’t expect her to, for all that I joked about it last night at the ball. She deserves to be wined and dined, wooed in the true Luthor sense of the word. Then and only then would I expect her to acquiesce to my request – and only if I had won her over.
Judging by last night, however, I won’t have to try very hard. That doesn’t mean I won’t do it anyway.
“Lex?”
My fingers stop moving over her skin, and I lean forward, mouth to her ear. “Yes?”
“Why’re you awake so early?”
I shrug against her bare back. “I wanted to watch you sleep.”
“Oh. Okay.”
She laughs softly, burrowing back further, rubbing her lithe body up against mine. The sheet bunches up between us and I shift just long enough to move it, before allowing myself to lie once more against her.
“I missed you,” I whisper into her hair, wrapping my arms around her, fingers now trailing lightly on the smoothness of her stomach.
“I know,” she sighs, but it’s not a sad sound. She’s happy, and I’m happy because of that. “I missed you, too.”
“I know.” Cocky – yes. True – yes. I knew she missed me the second I saw her face last night, when I cut in on her dance. If there had ever been a doubt in my mind, that maybe she’d moved on after all those years, it fled under the brilliance of her eyes.
“Lex?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
She giggles, shaking in my arms. “I know.”
~*~*~
// But things just get so crazy living life gets hard to do
Sunday morning rain is falling and I'm calling out to you
Singing someday it'll bring me back to you
Find a way to bring myself home to you //
~*~*~
She rolls over, green eyes boring into mine, half-lidded with the remnants of sleep. “I won’t quit writing.”
“I don’t want you to,” I respond in a manner that is just as cut and dried as the way she presented her statement to me. “I want you to be happy.”
“I thought I was,” she whispers. “But it was always so hollow…with no one to share it with.”
I know what she means, because its how I felt without her there to share in the minute joys of my own accomplishments. She was one of the only true friends I ever had, even outside of the love I started feeling for her somewhere along the way. When she left…I had no one.
“I’m sorry.”
My eyebrows go up. “Don’t be. I told you last night that I understand.”
“But I hurt you.”
I shrug. “You did what you had to do. I survived it.”
“And yet you still love me,” she shakes her head with wonder. “We’ll take this slow, right?”
Three years of waiting wants me to tell her that, no, we won’t take it slow.
However, I’d rather wait another three years to solidify our relationship, bring it to a more permanent arrangement, than to have her leave again.
“We can go as slow as you need,” I smile, kissing her forehead. The soft mounds of her chest press against me as I pull her in closer, breathing in that unique sweet scent that is entirely Chloe. Either she’s never changed her body wash in all these years, or that sweetness really is just her.
“Well,” she purrs, pressing herself against that part of me that obviously doesn’t want to go slow. The part of me that’s always awake and raring to go first thing in the morning. “Slow doesn’t mean…you know…that we stop doing what we did last night.”
“Oh, really, Miss Sullivan?”
“God,” she moans, tilting her head back. “I’ve missed that. You can call me that in bed for the rest of our lives, Lex. Just the way you say it….”
That gets a laugh out of me, though I’m smart enough to hide it in the flesh of her neck as I start kissing the soft skin there.
I don’t plan on calling her Miss Sullivan for the rest of our lives, no matter how sexy she thinks I sound when I say it.
One day I will call her Mrs. Luthor – and I can guarantee she’s going to like that a whole lot more.
~*~*~
// That may be all I need
In darkness she is all I see
Come and rest your bones with me
Driving slow on Sunday morning
And I never want to leave //
~*~End Fic~*~