kHo
13th October 2005, 11:10
Fandom: Smallville
Title: Champagne & Boredom
Rated: NC-17
Pairing: Chloe/Lex
Notes: Inspired by this picture (http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a35/kho_mood2/5f3b1rt.jpg). Also, thank you to feliz581 for giving it a quick beta last night. Takes place in the future, no definite spoilers except vague ones through season 4.
Thank you to drkcherry for forcing my muse to write this fic by making the pic into a handy dandy icon!
http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a35/kho_mood2/drkcherry.png
[ CHAMPAGNE & BOREDOM ]
by kHo
It had to be the champagne. It had to be. Because this would not have happened if it weren’t for the champagne. Sure, she’d always thought he was attractive. She’s not blind, she’d noticed the way he walks. Like sex, he walks. He walks like he’s had sex, like he’s looking to have sex again, and like he will not fail. Ever.
But for those thoughts to turn to thoughts of sex with her. Yeah. It had to be the champagne.
Champagne and boredom. Because the boredom must play a big part in it too. If she hadn’t been so damn bored, she wouldn’t have been on the periphery of the party, and she certainly wouldn’t have welcomed his company. If she hadn’t been so mind-numbingly, stump-fuckingly bored, she never would have thought his company was entertaining. The very notion of him being more entertaining then just about anything was almost enough to make her laugh.
She hadn’t seen him in years before this night. She hadn’t seen him since he and Clark stopped talking, and that was at least four years ago. She’d seen him around, sure. The same parties. Same black-tie events. Operas. Even a few sporting events. She’d seen him on the street, even once in a grocery store, but talked to him? No. Not more than a “Hello Ms. Sullivan.” Not more than a “Hey… Lex.”
Because there was always that hesitation. There was always that part of her that felt like she was betraying Clark by even talking to him at all. Not that Clark ever said anything about it. Not that Clark had even told her what they’d fought about. Clark managed to somehow not even seem to know who Lex was anymore. At the press conferences, in the articles he wrote, there was never any hint that he’d even known Lex at all.
No extra venom in the words he penned, no willingness to excuse Lex for things Clark wouldn’t have excused anyone else for. Chloe hadn’t expected that. Chloe had thought there would be bitterness, or hatred, or even sadness. The fact that Clark didn’t even blink when Lex’s name came up was a complete shock to her, even still. She’s convinced it’s some kind of willful amnesia, some kind of coping mechanism, because Clark feels every thing. He feels everything. Except Lex. Apparently.
So she decided that it was the champagne and the boredom that made her laugh when she felt Lex lean over from behind her and snore in her ear. Some bland Gala event, rich people drinking red and white wine, tossing empty smiles and empty laughter around like confetti. Her with her notepad, yawning as she took notes, contemplating just how the fuck she was going to make this sound interesting. All the senators in the room, all the important people, and not a damn thing to report.
She turned her head to look at him. “Please do not snore in my ear, Lex,” she said, feeling punchy and easily amused. “You might distract me from something very important. If I blink I might miss it when Delila Chancer shows off her ring to yet another admirer. One can not afford to miss the event of the season, you know.”
“No,” Lex said softly, that same bemused smirk she remembers from her years in high school ghosting over his face. “One can not.”
“You’d think they could at least pump some festive music in here,” she mumbled, stuffing her reporter’s notebook back into her purse. She hadn’t taken one single note that she cared to read during the last hour, and she doubted she would be in the next. “It’s supposed to be a party, for Christ’s sake.”
“Ms. Sullivan,” he chided, that smirk turning sideways as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “I’d expect you to be accustomed to the monotonous soundtrack of an event such as this.”
She turned her body to face his without even realizing it, grinning up at him. “Well if it’s gonna have a soundtrack, can’t it at least be an interesting one? With like, the Kodo drummers or something? Because this Yanni stuff is putting me to sleep.”
He laughed then, and it was like she was back in Smallville. Back when she was seventeen and maybe, possibly, kind of sort of had what might be called a crush on him. She hasn’t seen this Lex laugh in a long time, but the Lex back then had laughed every once in awhile. Back then, she’d known how to make him laugh, and Clark hadn’t even had to try. Back then, Lex laughed and looked comfortable while doing it. Now it’s just a laugh and it’s gone as quickly as it came.
Something happened then, and everyone’s attention was to the man behind the microphone. Chloe took her notebook back out and idly jotted down talking points about the opening of yet another pointless and meaningless high society establishment. The only thing that kept her eyes from crossing was Lex, beside her, leaning over and mocking the man’s posture, the repetitiveness of his speech pattern, the flopsweat on his brow. She had to restrain herself from writing down his words instead of the speakers.
There was more champagne and more talk after that. Stupid stuff, stuff that didn’t matter. Who’s doing what now, and with whom. Lois’ quick rise to the top at the Daily Planet. She watched as he very carefully didn’t ask why she wasn’t there too. She’s pretty sure he knew it was because of his father. She skirted around Clark fairly easily, mentioning nothing about him if she didn’t have to. She’s not sure if she did it to keep the peace, or because it would just remind her that she wasn’t supposed to like talking to Lex anymore.
Because no matter how much she had changed, how much he had changed, it was still there. That whatever it was that made conversations between the two of them so easy, so enjoyable. The push and pull, the meeting of minds, the sarcasm that came so naturally. It was easy, way too easy, for Chloe to forget that they hadn’t spoken in four years, that she’d started to hate him on principle for Clark. It was way too easy to remember how he’d started to look at her over that summer that he’d been her lifeline.
There had been a time when something had almost happened there. Something had almost happened, but it hadn’t, because the timing was never right. The feelings were there, she’d known that, but then the summer was over, and she’d been kidnapped. She’d been kidnapped and Clark had saved her, and Lois was there, and then it all went to shit. Clark blamed Lex, and Lex blamed Clark, and Chloe didn’t even know who he was anymore. He’d gone from a guy she’d trusted her life with to the guy that was obsessed with discovering her best friend’s secret.
But here they were, in the middle of a ballroom, classical music floating through the speakers and putting everyone to sleep, and it was so easy to forget all that. Champagne in her hand, a smile on her face, and Lex looking at her. Those eyes of his searing right into her, seeing past any guard she put up, past any shield she’d worked years on constructing. Twenty-two years old and she feels seventeen again, nursing a crush on the bald billionaire with tortured eyes and an even more tortured soul.
They were standing close enough to touch, and it was somehow more intimate than she’d felt with anyone in a long time, even in a crowd of people. He was smiling that easy smile at her, and she couldn’t have wiped the grin off her face if she’d tried, and when he’d touched her elbow she’d felt it all the way down to her toes.
“It’s winding down,” he said, looking around and pulling her closer to him as someone passed behind her on their way out of the door.
“Yeah,” she said, feeling breathless, knowing her cheeks were rosy and hoping it was from the champagne and not his proximity. “Looks like it’s time we parted.”
He looked at her then, and in that moment the only thought that flashed through her mind was ‘kiss me.’ She looked away in a moment of blind panic, sure he could see it in her eyes, sure he was doing this on purpose, putting her off guard for some sinister reason. It had to be. There was no way he was flirting with her. There was no way he was talking to her because she was actually interesting.
“I’ll walk you home,” he said, keeping his hand on her elbow as he turned her toward the door. “You don’t live far from here, right?”
She laughed at that, and the thought had passed through her mind that of course he knew where she lived. He probably knew where everyone lived. He probably knew where everyone worked, how much money they made, when they went to the grocery store, when they got a phone call. He probably knew everything about everyone, even more than her, and that should have freaked her out. At least a little. All it did was make her laugh, because that’s just how he is. That’s just Lex.
They walked down the street, bright lights of the city lighting their path, and the conversation had always come so easily when Clark wasn’t there. She felt guilty for the thought, but it was true. Without Clark, there was no reason to lie, no reason to be careful of what she said, no reason to wonder what it was that Lex wasn’t saying. He wasn’t talking about Clark, and she wasn’t bringing him up, and it felt so natural. It felt so easy that she almost forgot to feel guilty when she stood on the step to her apartment and asked him if he’d like some coffee.
And it had to be the champagne, she must have had more than she thought she did, because when she shut her door and he trapped her against it smiling down at her, she felt relief. Because it wasn’t until that moment that she realized this is what she was hoping would happen. It wasn’t until she was looking up into those blue eyes that she’d once known how to read some summer long ago that she realized she’d always wondered what this would feel like.
He breathed her name out and she closed her eyes, felt it cover her body in a warm blanket as he leaned down and his lips had touched hers. She dropped her purse to the floor and wrapped her arms around him and thought ‘finally.’ Because she’d been wondering what this felt like for five years, even if she hadn’t known it, and now she was finally finding out. Her hands cupped the back of his head and she pulled him down closer and she wasn’t sure if it was her or him that deepened the kiss but once his tongue touched hers there was no backing down. She didn’t even think about it.
She broke off the kiss with a laugh and he smiled into her hair when she bent her head. “I really did mean coffee when I asked, you know,” she said, blushing and wondering if she really had.
“I know,” he whispered, and the purr in his voice made her toes curl, made her fingers clamp down on his shoulders to hold him in place. “But I don’t want coffee, Chloe,” he continued, lowering his mouth to nip at her neck, licking a hot wet stripe up the slope to her ear. “I want you.”
He didn’t have to convince her though, she was sold five years ago, and her fingers were already working on his lavender button up shirt. He leaned into her when she got it open, her palm spreading over his chest as he arched into her touch, his erection already pressing into her hip, and it was too much. She’d forgotten for too long how much she’d wanted this, pushed it so far back in her head that’s she’d almost convinced herself she’d never wanted it to begin with. To remember now was overwhelming.
“Bed,” she gasped as he kissed her neck again, his fingers twisting through her hair and pulling it away, exposing more of her neck for him to kiss. “Straight back, behind you… Lex…”
She barely had enough though processes left to guide him when he started walking them backwards, almost knocked her shin against the door-frame when they reached her room. If she’d had any shame left at that point she might have been embarrassed to see that she hadn’t even made her bed that morning, but as it was she was glad. No time wasted pulling back the covers, no pause to knock the throw pillows off the bed. His knees had hit the back of her bed and they’d fallen, and their lips hadn’t broken apart even once.
He rolled her and settled on top of her, his tongue in her mouth like the best dessert in the world, his hand running down the length of her body and no pretense about where this was going. Fingers delving beneath her skirt and up her leg, panting into her mouth when his knuckles crushed over her panties. She’d never been more thankful for Lana’s gift of red silk matching underwear two years ago. It had been a gag at the time, instigated by Chloe’s insistence that silk was too girlish for her, but in that moment she thinks maybe she’ll wear it all the time. Just to remember this.
She arched into his touch when his fingers delved beneath, stroking her surely and without hesitation. Like maybe he’d thought about this too, maybe he’d planned this too. He was hard against her hip and her fingers were twisting into the sheets beneath her and she couldn’t help but moan into it because it felt too good. It felt too right, easy like everything else that night had been, the push and pull as natural as their conversation.
He made her come before he even unbuttoned his pants, laughing when she looked at him wide-eyed and dazed, dipping down to kiss her again before toeing his pants off, lowering himself on top of her. “Wanted this,” he whispered against her skin, licking at her skin, teeth grazing her nipple as he exposed it, ripping her shirt off of her. She could hear it tear, and she would have been mad if she’d had anything left in her. “Wanted you.”
Too dazed to notice as he pauses to put a condom on, she only came back to herself in time to gasp when he entered her, a long low moan coming out of him as he settled into her. She latched her arms around his neck as he pumped into her, amazed that she was so close to coming again, so soon after the first time. It was hours or minutes and then she was coming again, listening to him gasp, feeling him shudder in her arms, squeezing her eyes shut and riding it out and thinking, wow, yeah, she’s wanted this for a lot longer than she’s admitted it herself.
She would have thought he’d leave then, or soon after, but he didn’t. He settled into her bed, reaching down and pulling the covers up, laying back and looking at her like maybe she’s the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a long time. She laid down beside him, her fingernails tracing patterns on his chest and they just breathed together. As easy as their conversation came, this silence came even easier.
She’s not even certain when it is that they fall asleep, only that she likes the feel of his fingers in her hair when she starts to dream.
Title: Champagne & Boredom
Rated: NC-17
Pairing: Chloe/Lex
Notes: Inspired by this picture (http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a35/kho_mood2/5f3b1rt.jpg). Also, thank you to feliz581 for giving it a quick beta last night. Takes place in the future, no definite spoilers except vague ones through season 4.
Thank you to drkcherry for forcing my muse to write this fic by making the pic into a handy dandy icon!
http://i8.photobucket.com/albums/a35/kho_mood2/drkcherry.png
[ CHAMPAGNE & BOREDOM ]
by kHo
It had to be the champagne. It had to be. Because this would not have happened if it weren’t for the champagne. Sure, she’d always thought he was attractive. She’s not blind, she’d noticed the way he walks. Like sex, he walks. He walks like he’s had sex, like he’s looking to have sex again, and like he will not fail. Ever.
But for those thoughts to turn to thoughts of sex with her. Yeah. It had to be the champagne.
Champagne and boredom. Because the boredom must play a big part in it too. If she hadn’t been so damn bored, she wouldn’t have been on the periphery of the party, and she certainly wouldn’t have welcomed his company. If she hadn’t been so mind-numbingly, stump-fuckingly bored, she never would have thought his company was entertaining. The very notion of him being more entertaining then just about anything was almost enough to make her laugh.
She hadn’t seen him in years before this night. She hadn’t seen him since he and Clark stopped talking, and that was at least four years ago. She’d seen him around, sure. The same parties. Same black-tie events. Operas. Even a few sporting events. She’d seen him on the street, even once in a grocery store, but talked to him? No. Not more than a “Hello Ms. Sullivan.” Not more than a “Hey… Lex.”
Because there was always that hesitation. There was always that part of her that felt like she was betraying Clark by even talking to him at all. Not that Clark ever said anything about it. Not that Clark had even told her what they’d fought about. Clark managed to somehow not even seem to know who Lex was anymore. At the press conferences, in the articles he wrote, there was never any hint that he’d even known Lex at all.
No extra venom in the words he penned, no willingness to excuse Lex for things Clark wouldn’t have excused anyone else for. Chloe hadn’t expected that. Chloe had thought there would be bitterness, or hatred, or even sadness. The fact that Clark didn’t even blink when Lex’s name came up was a complete shock to her, even still. She’s convinced it’s some kind of willful amnesia, some kind of coping mechanism, because Clark feels every thing. He feels everything. Except Lex. Apparently.
So she decided that it was the champagne and the boredom that made her laugh when she felt Lex lean over from behind her and snore in her ear. Some bland Gala event, rich people drinking red and white wine, tossing empty smiles and empty laughter around like confetti. Her with her notepad, yawning as she took notes, contemplating just how the fuck she was going to make this sound interesting. All the senators in the room, all the important people, and not a damn thing to report.
She turned her head to look at him. “Please do not snore in my ear, Lex,” she said, feeling punchy and easily amused. “You might distract me from something very important. If I blink I might miss it when Delila Chancer shows off her ring to yet another admirer. One can not afford to miss the event of the season, you know.”
“No,” Lex said softly, that same bemused smirk she remembers from her years in high school ghosting over his face. “One can not.”
“You’d think they could at least pump some festive music in here,” she mumbled, stuffing her reporter’s notebook back into her purse. She hadn’t taken one single note that she cared to read during the last hour, and she doubted she would be in the next. “It’s supposed to be a party, for Christ’s sake.”
“Ms. Sullivan,” he chided, that smirk turning sideways as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “I’d expect you to be accustomed to the monotonous soundtrack of an event such as this.”
She turned her body to face his without even realizing it, grinning up at him. “Well if it’s gonna have a soundtrack, can’t it at least be an interesting one? With like, the Kodo drummers or something? Because this Yanni stuff is putting me to sleep.”
He laughed then, and it was like she was back in Smallville. Back when she was seventeen and maybe, possibly, kind of sort of had what might be called a crush on him. She hasn’t seen this Lex laugh in a long time, but the Lex back then had laughed every once in awhile. Back then, she’d known how to make him laugh, and Clark hadn’t even had to try. Back then, Lex laughed and looked comfortable while doing it. Now it’s just a laugh and it’s gone as quickly as it came.
Something happened then, and everyone’s attention was to the man behind the microphone. Chloe took her notebook back out and idly jotted down talking points about the opening of yet another pointless and meaningless high society establishment. The only thing that kept her eyes from crossing was Lex, beside her, leaning over and mocking the man’s posture, the repetitiveness of his speech pattern, the flopsweat on his brow. She had to restrain herself from writing down his words instead of the speakers.
There was more champagne and more talk after that. Stupid stuff, stuff that didn’t matter. Who’s doing what now, and with whom. Lois’ quick rise to the top at the Daily Planet. She watched as he very carefully didn’t ask why she wasn’t there too. She’s pretty sure he knew it was because of his father. She skirted around Clark fairly easily, mentioning nothing about him if she didn’t have to. She’s not sure if she did it to keep the peace, or because it would just remind her that she wasn’t supposed to like talking to Lex anymore.
Because no matter how much she had changed, how much he had changed, it was still there. That whatever it was that made conversations between the two of them so easy, so enjoyable. The push and pull, the meeting of minds, the sarcasm that came so naturally. It was easy, way too easy, for Chloe to forget that they hadn’t spoken in four years, that she’d started to hate him on principle for Clark. It was way too easy to remember how he’d started to look at her over that summer that he’d been her lifeline.
There had been a time when something had almost happened there. Something had almost happened, but it hadn’t, because the timing was never right. The feelings were there, she’d known that, but then the summer was over, and she’d been kidnapped. She’d been kidnapped and Clark had saved her, and Lois was there, and then it all went to shit. Clark blamed Lex, and Lex blamed Clark, and Chloe didn’t even know who he was anymore. He’d gone from a guy she’d trusted her life with to the guy that was obsessed with discovering her best friend’s secret.
But here they were, in the middle of a ballroom, classical music floating through the speakers and putting everyone to sleep, and it was so easy to forget all that. Champagne in her hand, a smile on her face, and Lex looking at her. Those eyes of his searing right into her, seeing past any guard she put up, past any shield she’d worked years on constructing. Twenty-two years old and she feels seventeen again, nursing a crush on the bald billionaire with tortured eyes and an even more tortured soul.
They were standing close enough to touch, and it was somehow more intimate than she’d felt with anyone in a long time, even in a crowd of people. He was smiling that easy smile at her, and she couldn’t have wiped the grin off her face if she’d tried, and when he’d touched her elbow she’d felt it all the way down to her toes.
“It’s winding down,” he said, looking around and pulling her closer to him as someone passed behind her on their way out of the door.
“Yeah,” she said, feeling breathless, knowing her cheeks were rosy and hoping it was from the champagne and not his proximity. “Looks like it’s time we parted.”
He looked at her then, and in that moment the only thought that flashed through her mind was ‘kiss me.’ She looked away in a moment of blind panic, sure he could see it in her eyes, sure he was doing this on purpose, putting her off guard for some sinister reason. It had to be. There was no way he was flirting with her. There was no way he was talking to her because she was actually interesting.
“I’ll walk you home,” he said, keeping his hand on her elbow as he turned her toward the door. “You don’t live far from here, right?”
She laughed at that, and the thought had passed through her mind that of course he knew where she lived. He probably knew where everyone lived. He probably knew where everyone worked, how much money they made, when they went to the grocery store, when they got a phone call. He probably knew everything about everyone, even more than her, and that should have freaked her out. At least a little. All it did was make her laugh, because that’s just how he is. That’s just Lex.
They walked down the street, bright lights of the city lighting their path, and the conversation had always come so easily when Clark wasn’t there. She felt guilty for the thought, but it was true. Without Clark, there was no reason to lie, no reason to be careful of what she said, no reason to wonder what it was that Lex wasn’t saying. He wasn’t talking about Clark, and she wasn’t bringing him up, and it felt so natural. It felt so easy that she almost forgot to feel guilty when she stood on the step to her apartment and asked him if he’d like some coffee.
And it had to be the champagne, she must have had more than she thought she did, because when she shut her door and he trapped her against it smiling down at her, she felt relief. Because it wasn’t until that moment that she realized this is what she was hoping would happen. It wasn’t until she was looking up into those blue eyes that she’d once known how to read some summer long ago that she realized she’d always wondered what this would feel like.
He breathed her name out and she closed her eyes, felt it cover her body in a warm blanket as he leaned down and his lips had touched hers. She dropped her purse to the floor and wrapped her arms around him and thought ‘finally.’ Because she’d been wondering what this felt like for five years, even if she hadn’t known it, and now she was finally finding out. Her hands cupped the back of his head and she pulled him down closer and she wasn’t sure if it was her or him that deepened the kiss but once his tongue touched hers there was no backing down. She didn’t even think about it.
She broke off the kiss with a laugh and he smiled into her hair when she bent her head. “I really did mean coffee when I asked, you know,” she said, blushing and wondering if she really had.
“I know,” he whispered, and the purr in his voice made her toes curl, made her fingers clamp down on his shoulders to hold him in place. “But I don’t want coffee, Chloe,” he continued, lowering his mouth to nip at her neck, licking a hot wet stripe up the slope to her ear. “I want you.”
He didn’t have to convince her though, she was sold five years ago, and her fingers were already working on his lavender button up shirt. He leaned into her when she got it open, her palm spreading over his chest as he arched into her touch, his erection already pressing into her hip, and it was too much. She’d forgotten for too long how much she’d wanted this, pushed it so far back in her head that’s she’d almost convinced herself she’d never wanted it to begin with. To remember now was overwhelming.
“Bed,” she gasped as he kissed her neck again, his fingers twisting through her hair and pulling it away, exposing more of her neck for him to kiss. “Straight back, behind you… Lex…”
She barely had enough though processes left to guide him when he started walking them backwards, almost knocked her shin against the door-frame when they reached her room. If she’d had any shame left at that point she might have been embarrassed to see that she hadn’t even made her bed that morning, but as it was she was glad. No time wasted pulling back the covers, no pause to knock the throw pillows off the bed. His knees had hit the back of her bed and they’d fallen, and their lips hadn’t broken apart even once.
He rolled her and settled on top of her, his tongue in her mouth like the best dessert in the world, his hand running down the length of her body and no pretense about where this was going. Fingers delving beneath her skirt and up her leg, panting into her mouth when his knuckles crushed over her panties. She’d never been more thankful for Lana’s gift of red silk matching underwear two years ago. It had been a gag at the time, instigated by Chloe’s insistence that silk was too girlish for her, but in that moment she thinks maybe she’ll wear it all the time. Just to remember this.
She arched into his touch when his fingers delved beneath, stroking her surely and without hesitation. Like maybe he’d thought about this too, maybe he’d planned this too. He was hard against her hip and her fingers were twisting into the sheets beneath her and she couldn’t help but moan into it because it felt too good. It felt too right, easy like everything else that night had been, the push and pull as natural as their conversation.
He made her come before he even unbuttoned his pants, laughing when she looked at him wide-eyed and dazed, dipping down to kiss her again before toeing his pants off, lowering himself on top of her. “Wanted this,” he whispered against her skin, licking at her skin, teeth grazing her nipple as he exposed it, ripping her shirt off of her. She could hear it tear, and she would have been mad if she’d had anything left in her. “Wanted you.”
Too dazed to notice as he pauses to put a condom on, she only came back to herself in time to gasp when he entered her, a long low moan coming out of him as he settled into her. She latched her arms around his neck as he pumped into her, amazed that she was so close to coming again, so soon after the first time. It was hours or minutes and then she was coming again, listening to him gasp, feeling him shudder in her arms, squeezing her eyes shut and riding it out and thinking, wow, yeah, she’s wanted this for a lot longer than she’s admitted it herself.
She would have thought he’d leave then, or soon after, but he didn’t. He settled into her bed, reaching down and pulling the covers up, laying back and looking at her like maybe she’s the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a long time. She laid down beside him, her fingernails tracing patterns on his chest and they just breathed together. As easy as their conversation came, this silence came even easier.
She’s not even certain when it is that they fall asleep, only that she likes the feel of his fingers in her hair when she starts to dream.