Be my friend…
Wrap me up,
I am small
Warm me up
And breathe me…
~Sia, ‘Breathe Me’
Clark leaned against the door of his own hotel room, breathing raggedly. Inwardly, he cursed his eidetic memory for filling his mind with images of Lois, both the long-cherished ones of that night in the Fortress six years ago and the more recent ones of six minutes ago.
My God, all I did was go in to give her an update, he thought, but that wasn’t totally accurate. When he’d seen her lying so still, breathing so deeply, he had known almost immediately that she had taken something to help her sleep. There were times when she had come to the office still groggy after taking a dose the previous night, so waking her up should’ve been impossible.
He shouldn’t have counted on it. She looked so beautiful and vulnerable that he couldn’t help coming closer, letting his eyes feast on her. Lois, always so fragile in sleep, like a porcelain doll, an exquisite mask of perfection liable to shatter if touched too roughly. But the opposite was really true, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help feel protective of her while she slept. So he had tucked the covers more closely around her, and bent to softly kiss her forehead.
And that was when the trouble started.
He could’ve stopped it then. He knew he was more than strong enough to hold Lois away from him. But it wasn’t the strength of his arms in question, rather the strength of his heart. And he was simply too weak not to kiss her, not to respond to her desire.
It would’ve been both better and worse if he could’ve let himself think she was expecting Richard. But no, she’d said his name even while she slept. So now it was undeniable, Lois still wanted him, still loved him – for no mere physical lust would make her voice shake like that, make her eyes go so wide with longing and a little fear of her own emotions.
The memories came back, haunting him, rising from every corner of his mind. One night and one morning they’d had, and within that short time an intimacy so total it was almost frightening. He remembered it perfectly, remembered telling her how often he’d wanted to simply reveal everything, especially when he had to sit next to her at work every day and listen to her talk about Superman. Listen to how much she loved him…
Kal-El had trailed off then, realizing just how much he had been eavesdropping on her while he was Clark. Lois had merely smiled at him over the champagne and said, only half-teasing, “I guess it’s a little late in the game for me to play hard to get.”
That had lead to them talking about Clark, and about secrets, and finally she had said, “It’s kind of confusing,” and he had taken her hand and looked into those amazing eyes and replied, “Not for me it isn’t. For the first time in my life, everything’s clear.”
To see her understanding dawn, to see Lois Lane actually surprised, was priceless. She who had made a hobby of startling people with her boldness was now almost shy of him. And then the hesitancy from both of them, that initial nervousness when he blushed all the way to the roots of his hair and whispered, “Lois, I’ve never…”
Thank God, she’d understood. She’d silenced him with a kiss, a gentle one. “It’s okay,” she’d told him. “Let me.”
And he had, letting her set the pace, letting her lead the dance. No other moment in his life was as sharply etched in his memory as watching her unzip the back of the dress and let it slide down off her shoulders, revealing the delicate silk slip underneath, seeing her look at him so very seriously as he drew in his breath with wonder. At a loss for words, he’d slid one arm around her, pulled her close, and she had deftly guided his other hand to cup the swell of her breast…
Lois’ mind had drifted to the same place as his, lying in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the patter of the storm that had finally begun. It had been threatening all day, but only now had decided to make good on its promise. Every nerve twanged, her body still alive with need, as if with lightning running through her veins. And it didn’t help that this tonight – which she refused to think clearly about – was bringing back her once-lost memories in even clearer detail.
Like the way his eyes had widened, the first time he’d touched her, his hands so warm, Lois herself so very conscious of the dress lying puddled on the floor beneath her. Even now, she wondered what she had been thinking, wearing blue chiffon when she could have worn anything else for him. She had been worried, wondering if she looked good enough, but the hungry rapture on his face convinced her. Lois had tried to ignore the way her hand shook as she had taken the clip out of her hair, letting the dark length of it fall past her shoulders. And all the while a little voice in the back of her mind whispered, The first, you’re the first, he will remember this forever so stop mooning like a silly teenage girl! For one time in your life you can be a goddess, so get a hold of yourself. Forget about being in awe of him for once and let him just be a man. Show him what love is … show him how much you love him.
He’d been so gentle, so scared of hurting her, his kisses were like whispers on her skin. She had been more bold to reassure him, running her nails over the perfect muscles of his back, letting him feel the hint of her teeth when she kissed his neck. Just getting the clothes off had been an excruciating torment, her pulse beating so hard it made her ears ring when all that was left to remove were her thin slip and his pants.
Both of us were as scared and awkward as a couple of schoolkids in the back seat of Dad’s car, she thought. Me, with my sophisticated views of love and sex, reduced to wishing I could turn off the lights before he saw me – gasp! – naked. Like he didn’t have x-ray vision, like he hadn’t taken a peek inside my lungs before. He could have seen me naked any time he wanted.
But Lois had to admit the results were a lot better than the teenage fumblings she’d experienced and he had completely missed. He had been a quick learner, oh yes indeed…
At the first, every time Lois had breathed in sharply he had thought he’d hurt her. His powers were supposed to be gone, but what if they weren’t entirely gone? Besides, she was so much smaller than him, so much more delicate. He had shivered in fear of hurting her with each sudden sound, in spite of her reassurance, until she had spoken huskily into his ear and pleaded that he never stop. Pleaded.
Until that moment he had never dreamed of Lois sounding so needy, had never imagined she could plead for anything… Of course, since then the image of her face haunted by desire, the sound of her voice gone molten with it, were branded into his memory.
I want you inside me…
The surprise he’d felt when she slipped onto his lap, the shock of actually… For a moment sensation had overridden all else, he even forgot to be afraid when she cried out sharply and clenched her nails in his skin. And then, holding her while she trembled, that mysterious fey look in her darkened eyes, and Lois had whispered so huskily, “Trust me, that didn’t hurt me.” He’d had no words then, just kissed her, let his mouth and his hands speak of his desire for her. It had been the most overwhelming pleasure of his life for a minute or two, quickly surpassed when she started to move against him…
He shuddered, pressing his palms against the wall, and willed the memory away. I can’t think about this, if I do I’ll wind up walking right back into her room, and God only knows what will happen. I have to get my mind off this…
Richard stopped in the kitchen doorway, perplexed. Reality and his half-hopeful expectation simply didn’t jibe. He’d followed the lovely redhead assuming … what, really? Now he felt like a fool.
Lana looked up at him with a knowing smirk, stirring a saucepan of milk on the stovetop. “Richard, I’m not Lois,” she said quietly. No hint of rancor in her tone, but her point was made.
Richard winced. No, she wasn’t Lois. If Lois had tossed off a line about helping him sleep, she surely wouldn’t mean a cup of warm milk. And furthermore, Lana also wasn’t Lois in that she was not his fiancée, and he had no right to make such presumptions. “Lana…”
“Hush. It’s late, you’re exhausted, I’m not exactly bright-eyed myself,” she told him. “I just wanted to let you know … things aren’t any different just because I invited you into my apartment. To sleep. On the couch.”
“Okay, point made,” Richard muttered. “I’m sorry, all right? I just… You’re right, it’s late. I’m sorry I assumed … you’ve got no reason to be interested in me…”
“It must be late,” Lana said casually, tipping a few drops of vanilla extract into the milk. “Because I know you’re not normally this … this unobservant.”
He looked blankly at her, wondering what the hell was going through her mind.
Sea-green eyes met his, the frank honesty in them incredibly attractive – and just a little frightening. “Richard, I am interested in you. But you’re engaged to Lois. The fact that she’s possessive and licensed to carry a gun means nothing next to the simple wrongness of trying to steal someone else’s man! Furthermore, even if you were single, we barely know each other. I don’t even kiss on the first date, Richard – and we aren’t even close to dating.”
“I know that,” he replied earnestly. “Lana, I don’t want you to think I’m just some kind of unfaithful, lecherous…”
“Oh, faithful and pure-minded, parading around my house in your underwear?” Lana had to bite her lip to keep from smiling.
Richard looked down. “Boxers and a t-shirt!” he protested.
“Underwear, Richard. If a woman walked around the house that way, it’d be considered obscene.”
Unfortunately, Richard had a very visual imagination. “That’s not obscene, that’s sexy.”
“On you it’s obscene,” Lana replied sweetly, and now the smile couldn’t be hidden any longer.
“That was cold,” Richard complained, trying to suck in an already flat and toned stomach.
“This is warm,” Lana shot back, pouring a mug of milk and handing it to him. “Now drink up and go to bed. To the couch. We have to get up early.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, sipping the hot, sweetened drink as Lana poured one for herself.
For a moment silence reigned between them, each alone with their own thoughts and fears. Richard wondered about the twins, about Lois – alone somewhere with Clark, who was probably the father of her children – and about the woman beside him. Lana worried that she had protested too much – did Richard guess how much she already cared for him, how his dark blue eyes sent chills down her spine?
With both of them so preoccupied, it was no surprise what happened next. Richard finished the cup of milk first and reached around Lana to set it in the sink. She drained the last sip only a second later than he had, and the way he leaned into her personal space unnerved her by how much she welcomed it. So she stole a glance at his face as she started to put her own mug in the sink, and knocked it against the counter by accident, jarring it from her grasp.
Lana gasped, already imagining the ceramic in shards on the floor. But even this late, Richard had a pilot’s sharp reflexes. He caught the falling cup before it could shatter, but then he was face to face with Lana from only inches away.
One solemn moment looking into each other’s eyes, one chance to back down. Neither did. Before she was even totally aware of what she was doing, Lana kissed him. Richard slipped one arm around her waist and kissed her back.
It was not the simple little brush of lips they’d both imagined. This was passion, sudden and enveloping and utterly in disregard of propriety. Lana ran her fingers into his hair and delighting in the sweetest kiss she’d had in a long, long time. Richard reveled in the tenderness of it, the slowness. It had been some time since he’d had a kiss that wasn’t just a brief brush of lips or a fiercely-burning expression of momentary lust.
All good things must come to an end, and it was Lana who pulled away, breathless. “Richard…”
“I know,” he breathed, and kissed her forehead once. “But later … after all this is settled…”
“Maybe,” she replied, firmly closing the door on that topic. “Right now we have more to worry about.”
“Yeah, we do,” Richard sighed, and then with the ghost of grin added, “So much for not kissing on the first date, Ms. Lang.”
The slap surprised him, though she didn’t hit him hard, just enough force to show him his error. “Good night, Richard,” Lana said with a hint of frost. “I’m going to my room – and locking the door. I’ll see you at 5 AM.” With that, she turned on her heel and left.
Looking – and feeling – like an errant schoolboy, Richard slunk back to the couch, thinking, What the hell am I doing?
And some deep, uncensored part of his brain caught a glimpse of Lana in the hallway, and replied, Not what you want to be doing…
“I’m going to sleep,” Richard muttered, dropping onto the couch and pulling the pillow over his head.
Lois was still not in control of her own mind, her defenses swamped by Tylenol PM and aching need. She’d curled herself into a ball with her face buried in the pillow, trying to muffle her pleading whimpers. Why the hell did I send him away? He’s all I want right now, all I ever wanted, all those sensible reasons we can’t be together look so flimsy measured against this.
And if was only that, the way we fit together perfectly, maybe I could forget all of this again somehow. Could shrug it off. But looking into his eyes that night, seeing the way he watched me with nothing but stark emotions. It felt like a dream to me then, too, from the moment I pushed things farther. From the moment I felt him move.
There were no words for the firestorm that rained down on her then, the feeling of reality and fantasy blurring as they moved so closely together, the intimate dance between them reaching its zenith as she had quickened her pace, her cheek rested against his hair. He was here, he was with her. He had chosen her. Had given up all just for the sake of being hers.
Her breath was coming in throaty whimpers now, his just as harsh, the sensations almost painful in their intensity. She just couldn’t stop touching him, reassuring herself that he wouldn’t disappear abruptly to leave her alone in her lonely bed with yet another dream to torment her. Until that moment her mind was still somewhat rational. Then he was caressing her breasts more boldly, the sensitive skin of her belly, and she was lost with a husky wordless murmur of need. The pleasure was almost painful, nerve endings afire.
Starting to gain surety that he wouldn’t hurt her, she felt him catch her hips, responding to her arches with tentative thrusts of his own, a slow and irresistible rhythm that he even now tempered. Lois bit back a moan as she felt him deep inside, his movements rocking him within her, his hands on her hips so careful but with a degree of possessiveness she had only hoped for.
Her arms slipping around his neck in a gesture all too familiar to their flights, her cheeks and chest flushing as the intensity between them rose, Lois did something she had never done with a lover before in her life. As the tension built higher, the fire stronger every second they moved together, the urge was too strong, and as the first shivers ran through her, Lois raised her head. Wide eyes caught his and stayed riveted to their stormy cerulean depths as he moved inside her, their connection even more immediate and intimate. And in a more profound way than ever before between them, Lois fell. Plummeting in free-fall. Only this time it was with vulnerable and desperate cries of pleasure, although his arms were there to catch her as they had always been.
And in the present, she was alone in her room, with her face turned into the pillow to muffle her sounds while the storm outside her window raged. As the world exploded around her, Lois ignored the tears slipping down her cheeks. In her memories, she lay against his chest as his arms came up around her, holding her tightly. Nuzzling closer, she had felt her heart seize when he whispered I love you against her ear. Dear God, she loved him, too, she thought as her memories began to blur, raising the fire lit within her even higher.
He could hear her breathing rapidly in the next room, despite the thunder that had begun to rumble, and to be so close to Lois tormented him worse than the memories of the past. Memories … if only they weren’t so achingly clear…
Kal-El fled the room, seeking the sky, putting distance between himself and the swift beat of Lois’ heart. The temptation was far too strong…
Temptation. Waking that next morning to find she’d rolled slightly away from him, seeing her body bared to him while she slept, he had been unable to resist the temptation of her perfect form. At first he had simply admired her, his eyes lovingly tracing her curves, but soon his hands moved to follow the path of his gaze.
He stroked the plane of her cheek, her long dark lashes lying over her porcelain skin, concealing those jeweled eyes he loved so well. And then he caressed the hollow of her throat, where her pulse beat slow and steady, satisfied and sleepy. With each breath, her chest rose, inviting him to run his fingertips along the curve of each breast, tracing a leisurely spiral path around to the peak, which stiffened to his touch.
That had brought a smile to his lips, and smiling he had kissed her there, brushed his lips against the silken skin. Lois had sighed softly in her sleep, turning her head, arching her shoulders up toward his mouth. Slowly, gently, he had begun to suckle, his tongue touching her nipple softly, evoking a soft moan from somewhere deep in her throat. Still mostly asleep, she ran one hand into his hair, cradling his head closer.
Lois slept very soundly, as Kal-El was learning. He was free to explore her body, sometimes with feather-soft kisses, sometimes with a bolder caress. She made an inarticulate murmur of pleasure as his kissed the back of her neck, but wasn’t fully awake yet. Gradually he moved from the sweet fullness of her breasts down to her softly curved belly, nuzzling his face into the curve of her flank. Such bliss, to lie there with her, Lois asleep still and in total surrender to him. He could lick a wet line of warmth from the top of her hip up to the tip of her nipple; he could stroke his fingertips across her sides until she whimpered in protest at the tickling sensation.
Her legs, so impossibly long on someone built so delicately, were utterly fascinating. The strong muscles in her thighs and calves contrasted with her dainty ankles and feet, the sleek curves suggesting power as well as grace. Kal-El adored her, kissed the top of her thigh… and then a wicked thought came to him.
Last night, the first time had gone swiftly, his fear of hurting her mixed with his overwhelming desire. Neither of them had been exhausted by it, and Lois had roused him to passion again with something he’d never expected. Her raven-black hair lying against his thigh, her mouth… He shuddered to remember. The sensations had been so incredible, so far beyond anything he ever imagined he could feel. Now his blue eyes darkened at thought of bringing her such pleasure. Surely she couldn’t sleep through that…
Lifting her had been so easy, even without his powers, Lois was so light. Her legs curling naturally around his shoulders, he’d kissed the thin, soft skin of her inner thighs first. Anxiety gave way to desire; could there be anything more erotic than this, his breath on the most sensitive part of her body? And then to taste deeply, feel her shudder, see those eyes fly open wide with shock even as she cried out huskily…
In the present, high above the earth, Kal-El tossed his head back and pressed his hands to his eyes, trying in vain to block out a vision that was branded in his mind. Please, no more, he begged of his faultless memory. Oh, his recall was perfect in all five senses: her breathy cries, her hips arching helplessly in his hands, the faint trace of desire perfuming her skin, her hazel eyes stained with need, and the taste of her… No more specters of the past, no more reminders of what I gave up. I can’t bear this, not now. The rain beat against him, but could not cool his skin or his desire.
The past overwhelmed him again, the memory he’d been trying hardest to avoid. His tongue had teased Lois until she cried out in desperation, her nails clawing his shoulders to pull him up to her. “Please,” her voice rough and needy, “please, Kal-El … please, I need you…”
He had never heard her beg for anything before that night, never imagined the pleading note in her husky voice or the craving it woke in him. Kal-El had slipped one arm under her shoulders to support his weight and caught her hip to steady her. Looking into Lois’ eyes, those eyes he thought he knew so well, seeing the wanton hunger there, hearing her whisper, “Yes, please, oh yes, please,” he had taken her then, gasping at the molten heat of her desire.
Lois’ eyes had slipped closed, a long low moan breaking from her throat, as she shivered and wrapped her legs around his waist. “My God, Kal-El,” she’d murmured against his ear when she could speak, lifting her hips to his next thrust. His hesitancy forgotten, he had done as he had dreamed of doing, spurred on by Lois’ breathy cries of rapture. Even then he had held back a little of his strength, though with every move Lois sought to draw him closer, pull him deeper.
The first two times the previous night, Lois had mostly been in control of their lovemaking, and that experience had been beyond Kal-El’s most explicit dreams. Still, though, he had expected her to take the lead – had expected to offer her his tenderness and inexperience. Now, though… Lois was helpless, utterly surrendered to his will, and he found that more erotic that he could ever have imagined. This woman, whom he loved for so many reasons but chiefly for her fiery independence, now writhed under his touch and begged wantonly for more. Kal-El would never have guessed how Lois’ craving and capitulation affected him; inflaming his desire for her as well as his need to protect her and care for her. Love and lust had twined together in his heart as Kal-El watched her stormy eyes, his own growing hazy with passion.
Her breathing was all the swifter now, almost shuddering painfully in the present as her mind swept back over that moment. Eyes closed tight as her brow furrowed deeply, the teeming images of the last time they made love tearing at her exquisitely. She was biting her lip so hard, her dark hair tossed and rumpled again the white sheets, soft sounds escaping her nonetheless…
The searing look in his eyes that once again trapped and held her as thoroughly as his body held her own. That night on her balcony, all of the almost childish fantasies she’d had of this man, from the first time her gaze had locked with his own, were nothing compared to the reality that they now arrived at. Never had she thought this possible, that he could ever want her with the same unbearable intensity that she had always known for him. But just one gaze in those cerulean depths … oh God, the expression on his face… To see the same need in those eyes, to feel him closer and closer, deeper and deeper, enveloping her, driving her utterly mad in sensation…
Even now she could hear her own voice, so breathy and broken and desperate as she urged him on, “Please, oh dear God, please… Kal-El… Fill me up … I need more…”
No denying the end of it, the force of emotion and sensation that threatened to drown him in shattering intensity. Kal-El had gone so far beyond anything he could ever have imagined or dreamed that words would have failed if he’d ever tried to describe that morning. The only light in the Arctic pre-dawn hours was the faint illumination of the crystals themselves, their glow limning Lois’ face and gleaming on the tears that began to slip from her eyes.
Tears? Oh yes, this was a moment so sublime he could weep for the perfection of it, lost in a sea of passion, so close now… The only experience that came anywhere close to this was flying, the moment of intense pressure and striving urgency just before he broke the sound barrier and soared. Lois threw her head back, her body arching completely up off the bed to meet him, her nails raking his back as she tried to pull him even closer.
And then, the finale, at last Kal-El had found a force stronger than himself, more powerful than the sun’s hot rays – and found it in the arms of Lois Lane. He drove into her one more time, shuddering with the strength of sensation. Lois caught the back of his neck, pulling his face down to hers, and he felt the dampness of her tears when she pressed her cheek against his and cried out softly, lost in a fog of passion…
Memory. All a memory, more than six years old, and the reality was this: a man not from this earth, shivering at the mercy of his perfect recall as he hovered far above his adopted planet’s surface. Even the thin, cold air at this height didn’t chill his ardor or slow his racing heart.
I can never forget, he thought, feeling tears on his own face, freezing in the upper atmosphere. No matter what I do or where I go, she’ll always be in my heart. Even if she never comes back to me – just because she loves me doesn’t mean she will – Lois will always be mine…