Before Sunset (Part Twenty-Three)

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It was dark when they stirred, shivering and starving. They only spoke in chattery monosyllables as they stumbled about the darkened cabin, trying to get the lantern and the long-dead stove lit. It wasn't until they were sitting crosslegged on the bed, huddled under their respective blankets, that the cabin was warm enough for complete sentences, which Chloe kind of regretted when Clark came out with his.

"We didn't finish talking," Clark said, dipping into the still-steaming can of corn propped between them.

Chloe stabbed a fork into what was left of the corned beef hash. "I don't really have a problem with that. I don't think we need to."

"Then you agree that we're now... you know... involved."

"I didn't say that. I just think we need to go with the flow and stop hashing this out. Why define it?"

"But..."

"I really don't want to argue anymore." She frowned as she chewed, then held out the can. "You want the rest of this?"

Clark eyed the can, then her. "Are you trying to bribe me to stop talking with food?"

"No. I just don't like it much. The meat tastes like spam and I hate spam."

Clark stared at her, bewildered. "You have no taste in food." His eyes darted to the can again. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

He took it hesitantly and nodded at the corn. "You should have more of that, then."

Chloe shook her head. "Clark, you're like one and a half of me. I think you having the bigger share makes more sense."

"But you're the girl and I'm the guy, so..."

"So what? Am I going to die from two less spoonfuls of corn? Besides, I have a feeling I'm going to be sick of corn soon." She nodded at the three cans still on the counter.

"I was sick of corn way before this, my parents growing it and all. So I think you should..."

"Fine. We'll split it evenly. It's too cold to argue."

He waited until she picked up the can, then took a bite of the hash. "Okay, then. I'll just buy you a burger when we get home."

"A burger," she sighed as she chewed, "or pizza or beef lo mein..."

"Please stop," he said, suddenly frowning at the hash. 

"Sorry," she said, remembering that talking about food, real food, was actually more pain than pleasure here.

"Anyway, we'll have to do that. But I..." He toyed with his fork. "I don't know. I wonder what people will think."

"That we haven't eaten in a year," she said, snorting. "I know I'm not going to hold back."

"No. I mean... Us, being out together... I wonder what I'm supposed to tell them."

She froze, her spoon halfway to her lips. "Stop it."

"Well, they're going to want to know what's going on." He shrugged, all innocent eyes.

She gave him a withering look as she swallowed. "What's going on is me and you hanging out, which we've been doing since we were thirteen. So I doubt anyone's going to wonder."

"So when we start making out right in the middle of The Talon..."

"We are not going to make out in the middle of The Talon."

"We might. But don't worry, when my mother stops us to ask what's going on, you can tell her all about how we're just going with the flow and..."

"Clark, could you stop?"

"Then when your dad walks in, I'm sure he'll just love that. Won't even punch me a little."

"I'm not doing this." She shoved one last bite of corn into her mouth. "Here," she mumbled around it, thrusting the can at him.

He took it, glowering. "I just don't see why you won't even talk about it."

"Because there's no point in talking about it here," she said shortly. "Here, there's just you and me and it seems simple. At home, there's a million complications and other people..."

"If you mean Lana, then I think I made it clear..."

"Yes. After minutes of deliberation, you decided your practically life-long crush on her is over. So forgive me if I think we need to factor in you actually seeing her before we decide it's Clark and Chloe sitting in a tree."

"So you think I'm just going to dump you and..."

"There's no dumping," she nearly yelled. "We're not in a relationship!"

"Then what are we?"

"I don't know!" She took a deep breath. "I just... I don't want to get into defiitions until we get home."

"Okay, then." He glared at her, then started shoveling corn into his mouth.

"Clark, can you at least acknowledge that I have a point?"

"Gpphhhooofgggn point," he mumbled, then swallowed. "I have a point, too. I don't think we should have any more sex until we define this."

Her lips thinned. "Okay, then." She got up and moved to the foot of the bed.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm getting dressed. If we're not going to have any more sex, then we should be fully clothed at all times."

"Then... Good."

"Great." She dropped her blanket, giving him a tight smile. She grabbed her panties off the footboard with a flourish, then bent to shimmy into them. She straightened to find him staring, a spoonful of corn falling into his lap. She squared her shoulders and nodded at him. "Think you're leaning on my bra."

"Huh?" 

She strode around and shoved at his shoulder. "Move." She didn't add "dumbass," but it was heavily implied, He had to go and be a baby about this. All she wanted was not to put some label on this. It didn't mean she wanted to stop having sex. And there was no way he wanted to, either. But he had to keep pressing his stupid, antiquated, all-or-nothing crap on her. She yanked her bra off the headboard and moved away from the bed,

If he was going to be a baby, then she was going to make him cry. 

She slid the straps up her arms, deciding to forget the age-old hook-then-turn method. She arched her back, trying to fasten the hooks and loops behind her. Back-arching and boob thrusting was Boy-Torturing 101, but it didn't make the job any easier. She was breathing heavily by the time she succeeded, but so was he. She moved back to the footboard and grabbed her pants, sparing a glance at him. He was red-faced and looked close to crying, but not close enough. She moved away from the footboard. He had to see, after all. She wasn't sure how sexy putting pants on was, but bending was a time-honored method of boy torture, so she accidentallydropped her pants. 

"Oops." She took her time with the bending. She wanted to make sure he was getting this. She was pretty sure he had when the can hit the floor and his hands met her hips, pulling her backwards.

Her back met the bed and he appeared over her. "That's just not fair," he breathed against her lips.

She smiled against his. "Neither are you."

"What? I only..." He dug underneath her, then gave up and pulled her bra up and over her head. 

She lifted her arms, then watched it sail across the room. "Only what? Only told me you wouldn't have sex with me unless it was all your way?" She grasped his chin. "Clark, guys can't cut off sex, Everybody knows that."

"Well, I might."

"So.... you tackled me to the bed to tell me that? Okay," She started to sit up, but he stopped her with a hand on her waist.

"Chloe..." The hand slid over her stomach before his head bent, lips sliding just above her navel. "I just want to be with you,"

She let out a shaky gasp. This would be tugging at her heartstrings if he weren't hard and naked right now, in the middle of nowhere, with no one else to be with. She slid her fingers in his hair and pulled, not hard, but enough for him to stop and lift his head. "And I just want more time."

His eyes met hers. 

"Clark, it's life-or-death out here. I just don't want to make decisions before we get to Smallville where it's..."

"Life or death," he cut in. "Maybe even more than here."

"Fine," she groaned. "But I still need time."

His eyes serached hers. He must have found something that agreed with him because he nodded. "Okay. Back to Smallville. But, after that..." He slid a hand to her hip, hooking into the side of her panties. "Time's up. Either it's me and you or... you and me."

She lifted her hips as he slipped them downward. "We'll see."

"Yes, You will see," he said as they sailed past the stove.

"I guess I will."

"I know you will." He slid his hand between her legs.

"We'll... see what happens," she gasped as his fingers started circling. He was getting good at that.

"I know what happens," he said, leaning down.

She squirmed as his stubbled chin tickled her neck. "Thought you said you... uhh... didn't know what would happen."

"Well, I know some stuff that's gonna happen," he said against her throat. "Or I'm gonna make sure it does. Like when we get back, I'm going to kiss you in the middle of The Talon, then watch you try to explain that. I don't even care if my mom's there. I'll..."

"Clark?"

"Hmm?"

"Shut up."

He looked like he might get snippy until he registered the hand on his c*ck. His eyes rolled backward, but he recovered nicely, gripping her thigh and pulling it over his hip. "Just you wait and see, Chloe," he said into her mouth as she guided him in.

********************

It was first light when they finally stopped bustling around and blew out the lamp. They sat on the bed, him still with a blanket slung around his waist, her still wearing a sheet toga. The place was clean, for the most part. They'd packed up what they thought they could use in the quilt. They also packed up what cash they had. They took the magazine with Le Gal's address to send him the money there instead along with a list of what they took as American money wouldn't help him much in the middle of nowhere. And they were really hoping to find a somewhere before nightfall. 

Chloe seemed to think they would. They just had to keep moving south. All they had to do was put on their clothes and keep going. If only they could do it.

Clark stared at the neatly folded piles on the counter. "You know... Maybe we should stay one more night. Who knows when we'll find another shelter?"

"We'd have the same problem tomorrow. No use putting it off. Besides, our clothes are more than dry now."

"I know. I just... I was thinking we might not be warm again for a while and maybe we should just... take a day off."

She chuckled. "We've had three days off now. Another day will only make it harder to... leave." She said the word with the same sort of reluctance he felt. There was room to work on her.

"I just think we need to rest up a little more," he said quickly, hoping she latched onto his train of thought. "I think just one more day would have us ready to..."

"I cant have any more sex, Clark," she cut in. 

Of course, he immediately had to disclaim. It wasn't about sex... much. "It's not like that, I just think we need another day to plan better and..."

"We're walking south, Clark. That's about all the plan we have and it doesn't take much planning. And if we stay here, we'll just have more sex and that will only make it harder."

"Harder to leave," he sighed in agreement.

"I actually meant harder to walk." She ducked her head. "I'm kind of sore... you know... there," she whispered the last, but he heard it. 

He turned to her on the bed. "Did I do something wrong? I mean, I don't have much experience. If I was too..."

"Relax, Clark," she said, her face reddening. "I think it's more about how much we've... done it."

He wanted to laugh at the way she was so embarrassed, even after all the times they... did it. Okay. He might be a bit embarrassed, too. It was all pretty new, actually having sex. A lot. He wished he could be more sophisticated about the whole thing, but he still felt these mad urges to giggle because he and Chloe were totally DOING IT!

"Besides," she went on, "we need to get moving. Everyone is either worried sick or convinced we're dead. We can't let them go on like that."

Clark nodded, sobering. "We should get dressed."

"And now." Chloe took a deep breath and stood, striding to the counter for her pile. She moved toward the bathroom and Clark laughed. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just... kind of funny, you going in there to dress." 

She stiffened and clutched her pile. "I'd just rather have my privacy."

Maybe he was more sophisticated about this. "We've had all that sex and now you need your privacy to get dressed." He snickered again.

"I think it's a good idea, considering you..."

"Come on, Chloe." He shook his head. "It's stupid for one of us to go into that cold bathroom when we've seen each other naked. Seriously."

She gave him a withering look and strode to the bed, dropping her clothes. "Fine. But you stay over there."

"I will, then." He chuckled and moved to the counter, untucking the blanket. She was a funny girl. That last time she'd said f*ck about six times and now she was too embarassed to even dress in front of him. He chuckled again as he pulled his boxers up. He glanced over at her as she dropped the sheet. Of all the...

She was stepping into her panties, one hand on the bed frame, shimmying into them. She reached for the pants next, stepped in, grasping the frame again, then letting go to pull on them, hopping a little. She wasn't turned away all the way. He could see just a bit of jiggling breast as she gave one last tiny hop. The bra came then, hooked around her waist before she twisted, turning it and pulling it up, snaking her arms into the straps. She turned a little more. He hadn't got a really good look at her in her bra. It was black and grey and lacy and he wanted to look at it some more. He gave a silent prayer that she'd go for her socks next... But no. She went for her shirt and he sighed, wishing she'd go just a little slower or turn toward him just a little more.

One wish was answered as she turned, just as she pulled the thing down over her stomach.

He glanced up to find her eyes on his... and just a little angry. "This is not fair."

"I know," he agreed. It should have been the socks, then she'd have had to sit down and face him first to....

"Clark, I just got dressed."

"I know."

"And I really am sore." She glanced down. He did, too, and realized he was pitching quite a tent.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know..."

"Well, I did, after what happened last time I tried to get dressed." She glanced down again. "It's not like I don't want to, but... I mean, it's like a raw wound, Clark. I can't..."

"I don't expect you to," he said quickly, grabbing blindly behind him for his pants and coming back with a sock. He tossed it and tried again, coming up with his T-shirt. "I'm fine." He pulled it over his head. "I'll get dressed and we'll..."

"No. Don't."

He stopped with the neck of his t-shirt over is eyes. He started to pull it down, but felt her hands touch his elbows, then move upward, pulling the shirt with them and over his head. He heard, rather then saw, it hit the floor with a whooshy plop as his eyes were on her. And her eyes were on his chest. Then her hands. Then her lips.

"I thought you couldn't..." He shuddered as she slid them over his nipple, all words failing him.

"I can't," she breathed, "but I can touch you. I want to touch you." She slid her hands around his waist and into his boxers, right to his a*s... and squeezed. "I didn't get to touch you enough. You kept touching me."

"I like touching you," he gasped, his hands moving to....

"No, no, no." She smiled and pushed them to his sides. "It's my turn." She dropped a kiss on the center of his chest.

She slid her hands down them and he resisted the urge to pus her back to the bed. Did she really expect him to just stand here being touched? It was like torture, not to....

She was kissing her way down. Holy crap, she was kissing her way down. His knees weakened and he gripped the counter behind him hard as it hit him just what she had in mind.

"I've never done this," she said from below him.

He took his eyes off the ceiling and dropped them to her, on her knees now, fingers poised over the slit on his boxers. 

"But I want to try it."

"Uh... Yeah. No. If you want to... You shouldn't not..." He swallowed his words, realizing that they might not be clear enough in telling that he really, really, really wanted her to try it. But he could feel her breath through that slit and he couldn't think of any better way to give her that go-ahead.

As always, Chloe anticipated his needs, sliding her fingers in and pulling him out. He tensed as the heat of her breath kissed the head of his c*ck. He almost giggled at the word and at the idea that Chloe's mouth was seriously going to touch his c*ck. When it finally did, he couldn't giggle. He couldn't even breathe. Her lips slid over him and he choked on another breath, seriously worried that he was going to suffocate, which was ironic because she was the one with her mouth full.

He felt her tongue under his head and finally breathed... or moaned. Same thing as he was suddenly incapable of breathing without making noise, load noises that echoed off the cabin walls and made him blush hotly because he couldn't keep a cool head just because her tongue was on his cock. Oh, my God! Her tongue was on his cock!

He was momentarily distracted from his embarrassment by his knees, which were buckling. He gripped the counter harder, rather glad he didn't have his powers at the moment because it might have come off in chunks in his hands as he fell forward crushing her. He really didn't want to crush Chloe. He didn't want to choke her either, but he seemed to be doing that as his hips pushed forward.

He tried to regain some kind of control over his body as she drew back, gagging just a little.

"I'm sorry," he panted. "I was too... I mean, that's just so... I'm sorry."

She looked up at him, then laughed. "I guess I'm doing something right. But..." She stood and his face fell. "Maybe you should relax a little." She grabbed his hand and moved backward. "Come on," she said, pulling harder.

He remembered to let go of the counter and followed her almost blindly to the bed. Everything was blurry. Just her lips were in focus as they said words like "sit" and "lay back" and he obeyed those lips. They were kind of his salvation right now.

His head hit the bed and his eyes met the ceiling and he tried to get some kind of hold on himself. It was futile, though, as he felt her lips again, now on the underside of him, sliding back and forth.

"You''re so soft here," she breathed, one hand sliding to his base, circling it loosely.

He lifted his head and watched her open mouth as it swallowed him again. He quickly closed his mouth to cut off any embarrassing noises. His breath came fast and harsh from his nose as he felt her tongue swirl around. His hips shifted and he worried he'd choke her again when her hands slapped on either side of them, pressing them down. He could feel her tongue flatten against the underside of his c*ck as she closed her eyes, going lower.

His mouth opened without any permission from him, releasing a near continuous moan as she actually sucked, drawing upwards even as she pushed on his hips, keeping them planted on the bed. She released him with a wet, popping sound before going down again. She gave a strangled groan as her hands slipped off his hips and they twisted upwards, but she didn't stop, just gripped them harder, her nails digging in now as her lips fluttered over him.

It was such a mess of sensation, between the pain of her nails and the heaven between her lips and the sun just coming in, glinting off her hair until he ached with the need to touch it. He gave in, burying one hand in her hair and bracing the other on the headboard as he fought to keep his hips still.

Her other hand slid up his leg and he worried she'd push his hand away, but she didn't. Her fingers slid up the leg of his boxers and he felt them on his balls a moment before a the world went black.

He came to to find her sitting up, wiping her mouth with the edge of the sheet.

"Chloe..."

"I'm fine," she said, anticipating the "Are you okay?" on the tip of his tongue. "Just a little blindsided. I was trying to decide if I'd spit or... Anyway, I didn't have much time to decide."

"I'm so..."

"Do not be sorry," she said, anticipating him again, How did she do that? "I wanted to." She met his eyes.

"I wanted you to, too," he said stupidly, as she could probably tell from all the moaning and groaning he did. Her legs rubbed restlessly against each other and he sat up, sliding a hand to her thigh. "Chloe, maybe we could..."

"No, we can't," she said, shooting to her feet. "I think you're good to go now."

"But if you need me to..."

"Clark, I'll live. You put a hand or... any other appendage on me and I'll be rubbed raw. We need to go." She turned and leaned over him. "But you're awfully cute when you scream."

"I didn't..."

"You did." She slid something from under him and came up with her jacket. "Let's get moving."


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