Chapter 7
She had been having fun. At a Pearl Jam concert of all things. Still, she had been enjoying it. Okay, so the actual concert hadn’t even started, but that didn’t matter. Because she was here with her best friend who was now her date. And their banter had turned to flirting and the flirting had been beyond exhilarating.
Who knew arguing about hot dog toppings could be so...sexy?
So sexy in fact that Lois had found herself drawn to him. She’d found herself suddenly paralysed by his magnetic brown eyes, drawn to their warm depths like a moth to a flame. She’d watched as those same eyes dropped to look at her lips and then back up to her, as if caught doing something they shouldn’t be. And she’d known then without a shadow of a doubt that he had been thinking about kissing her, the same way she’d been thinking about kissing him ever since he’d asked her on a date. No, that wasn’t true. She’d thought about kissing him long before that. Hell, she had kissed him. She knew what it was like.
But it hadn’t ever been real. And then suddenly it was. And she was leaning forward, her heart pounding in her chest anticipating the moment those lips would meet her own, and then out of the corner of her eye she spotted Clark’s hot dog clutched in his hand.
Onions. Relish. She’d insisted that those ingredients were a must on a hot dog. Which meant her breath was probably atrocious. She couldn’t let her first kiss with Clark be with onion and relish breath. It was bad enough that it might be at a Pearl Jam concert.
She’d sat up abruptly, startling him and accidentally hitting the heel of her foot against the chair. She knew he was surprised when she made the lame excuse that they should finish their food and vowed to make it up to him at some point in the date. After all, she did want to kiss him.
Clark nodded and the two fell silent for the next few moments as they finished their food. Every now and then their eyes met and Lois gave him a smile that she hoped was reassuring. He smiled back and she felt some of the tension leave her.
A few moments later, he stood up and offered to take the food wrappers to the garbage before the show began. She watched him head off in search of a bin, enjoying the view of his backside and thinking about their almost-kiss.
Once out of visual range, she searched through her clutch and was relieved to see she’d thought to bring her breath mints after all. She popped one into her mouth and hoped it would help. A tiny seed of doubt planted itself in her mind as she realised that she never would have had to worry about having onion breath around Clark when they were together just as friends. She recalled poker nights with Perry where they’d eaten plates of nachos together or pizza at the Planet with every sort of meat topping under the sun.
She’d never found herself worrying about her appearance, her breath or even hesitating to tell Clark how she felt about books or music before. And yet, here she was on a first date with the man she...with someone she was realising she had very strong feelings for, and she couldn’t even bring herself to tell him she didn’t actually like the band he’d paid so much for them to see.
She’d thought at first that it was because she wanted to please him. That it was a sign of the way her feelings for him had clearly changed, that she was willing to endure something he clearly enjoyed (though she was baffled as to why) for the sake of her feelings for him. But now it was occurring to her that a gesture such as that only really worked if the other person was aware there was a sacrifice being made.
As it was, what kind of foundation did they hope to build if their first date was built around Lois lying to him?
Her musings were interrupted by Clark’s return and the subsequent dimming of the lights. The opening band was about to come on, so it was too late for Lois to say anything now.
People made their way back to their seats, aware the show was about to start just as many others made their way to the area between the floor seats and the stage that Lois knew was to become the mosh pit. Cat had given her the full rundown on the dos and don’ts of an alternative concert, and Lois found herself grateful Clark hadn’t wanted to be in the mosh pit. She tried hard to picture him throwing himself at other people with the sole intent on smashing his body into theirs and it caused a giggle to bubble up inside of her.
“Something funny?” he asked. She shook her head and before she could say anything else, a cheer rose up in the arena like a cresting wave. A loud voice came through the speakers causing Lois to wince slightly. She knew he’d gone out of his way to get good seats, but they were awfully close for her poor ears.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I present tonight’s opening act. All the way from Vancouver, Canada, please welcome Moist!”
Another loud cheer went up and Lois watched as four men took the stage. Rather than introduce themselves, the drummer simply counted the band down and they launched into an uptempo rock song.
The lead singer was tall and thin and wound his way around the stage with the competence of someone who was born to command a stage. He had shoulder-length dark hair, which seemed to be required for the crowd, but she was close enough to see his features were quite handsome as well. Not quite as much as her date, mind you, but enough that even the skeptical audience members had decided to pay attention to the opening act.
Lois was surprised to find that she didn’t find the lead singer of this band quite as abrasive as with Pearl Jam. Though it might not be something she would find herself listening to in the Jeep, she found herself tapping her toe to the beat of the song, which appeared to be called ‘Push’ and noticed that Clark seemed to be doing the same as he nodded his head.
He said something to her, though she couldn’t hear it over the din. She found herself leaning a little closer and he took that as his cue to do the same. A shiver ran through her as their hands touched and she felt his breath in her ear. His breath did not smell like hot dogs and she wondered if he too had brought mints.
“They’re not bad!” she could hear him say. She nodded and closed her eyes as her hand seemed to find his. She watched as the people in front of her joined the mosh pit—the crowd apparently taking to this opening band as they threw themselves left and right.
The song ended and the band launched into something a little less frenzied with a slightly melancholy feel to it that Lois found herself actually enjoying. When that song, which had appeared to be called ‘Silver’ ended, she found herself distracted by the rest of their set as she leaned into Clark’s body, and he wrapped his arm around her, rubbing her arm ever so softly with his thumb. The solidness of his body and the fact that he seemed to know exactly how to touch her caused the rest of the setting to drop away, leaving room only for them.
By the time the opening band had left the stage, Lois found herself breathless in a way that had nothing to do with the music. Reluctantly, Clark moved his hands away from her body to clap and Lois did the same, feeling slightly irritated by Moist for having the audacity to leave and even more irritated by the fact that Pearl Jam were next. Surely Clark wouldn’t be quite so fixated on her once his favourite act took the stage.
As they waited for the road crew to remove the equipment and set up for Pearl Jam, Lois turned to her partner.
“The lead singer had quite a presence, didn’t he?” Clark asked. Lois could only nod, unsure of what she could say. It suddenly occurred to her that she’d had quite a lot of liquids, and that if she wanted to use the restroom before the main act began, now was the time.
“I’m going to...” she gestured to the door, hoping he understood. For some reason she didn’t want to say ‘I have to pee’ to her partner. What was wrong with her? He nodded, thankfully sparing her the embarrassment, and she told him she would be back in a few moments.
She wasn’t the only one who thought it a good idea to use the facilities prior to the show, however, and by the time she flushed the toilet, a loud cheer could be heard coming from the arena. Pearl Jam must have been on stage because even in the bathroom the cheering felt loud. She washed her hands and checked her makeup in the mirror.
Along with giving her onion breath, the hot dogs had also managed to remove most of her lipstick. Thankfully, she had brought it with her in her clutch and she took a moment or so to re-apply it. Pearl Jam could wait.
Once she was satisfied with the way it looked, she left the bathroom and searched around trying to remember which door she had exited from. She thought she’d found the right one, but once she walked through the door, it was far too dark to tell where her seat was. She wandered forward trying to get a better look, but with the music so loud and the venue so dark, she had no idea where she was. She decided to turn around and head back out again, when suddenly someone slammed into her, knocking her to the ground hard.
She managed to brace her fall with her hands but felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her, and she had scraped her chin. She scrambled to stand when another person slammed violently into her. This time she didn’t fall, but was instead propelled hard into the person next to her, who shoved her off him gleefully as if it were a sport.
Fear shot through her as she realised she had somehow managed to stumble into the mosh pit. Before she could think of which way to turn in order to get back to her seat, an elbow caught her on the cheek, knocking her to the floor once more. She fell hard on her shoulder, and scrambled once more to stand. Another flannel-clad mosher launched himself at her, only to find himself getting a knee to the groin and falling to the floor in pain. She felt mildly satisfied, but still frightened. There were a lot of people between her and the seats. She was going to have to start giving as much as she got if she were to get back to the rows of seats she could now see in front of her.
She took a deep breath and began shoving at the jostling bodies writhing around her. She had made it almost a foot, when the crowd seemed to suddenly part in front of her, and a darkened figure moved through the gap towards her. She gasped in surprise when she saw it was Clark making his way to her, a determined look on his face. She found herself being shoved forward once more from behind, but this time, it was Clark who caught her, wrapping his arms around her as if to shield her entire body.
A surge of relief as well as something else shot through her as he kept one hand wrapped around her protectively while using his other to push people out of the way as they threw themselves at them.
He didn’t, however, take her back to her seat as she had expected. Instead, he took her out of the floor area entirely and back into the well-lit gate entrance near the snackbar and the restrooms.
“Are you alright?” he was asking, his arm still wrapped protectively around her. Her heart was still hammering, though this time it was less with fear and more because she was still pressed tightly against his broad, solid chest and he felt...incredible.
“Fine,” she said into his flannel shirt. He must not have heard her, because he stepped back, his hands on her shoulders as he looked her up and down. Once back into the light she could see the worry etched all over his face, feeling especially touched that he had left during the first few songs of the band he had paid so much to see to come find her. She wondered briefly how he had managed to even see her in the mass of bodies she’d somehow managed to find herself in, but set that part aside for now. For now, the look he was giving her—the look of concern mixed with worry and deep affection had her attention.
“You’re...you’re bleeding!” he said, touching her chin. “Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe we can find a first aid kit or—”
“I’m fine,” she reassured him, taking his hand in hers, as he reached for her again. “Really. It’s just a scrape. I can barely feel it. How did you find me anyway?”
“Oh!” He seemed surprised by the question. “I went out to look for you and saw you go through the wrong door on your way back from the bathroom. I thought I would follow in case—”
“Good call,” she replied, her sense of relief being suddenly replaced with a deep desire not to go back to their seats. She liked being able to look at Clark. She liked being able to hear Clark when he spoke to her, and more than ever, she liked being held by Clark. She could do none of those things if they went back inside the concert.
Surprisingly, he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to go back in either. Instead, he seemed perfectly content to stand there, gently touching her face as if to reassure himself that she was okay.
“Clark?” she said softly. He gave her an almost surprised sort of look then a sheepish smile. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” he replied. Then, as if embarrassed to admit it, added, “I just...didn’t like seeing people shove you like that.”
“Well, lucky for us both it was a mosh pit and not being thrown out of a plane or something. I’d rather Superman not have to rescue either of us on our first date.” She noted that he looked a little pleased when she said she didn’t want Superman to spoil their date. Feeling a little bolder, she reached up and pressed her hand to his chest, running it gently down the broad planes of his abdomen. He gave a sharp intake of breath, letting her know that she’d had the desired effect. She smiled.
“You’d rather not get thrown out of a plane on our next date,” he said, somewhat flustered but with a tone that told her he was very much enjoying her touch. “Got it. No planes.”
A slightly charged moment passed between them before he finally gave what looked to be a somewhat reluctant glance over at the entrance to their seats.
“Should we, uh...” He gestured to go back inside and she felt her heart drop. Of course he wanted to go back in. She could hear the band launching into another song and realised that, despite trying to listen to as much of the CD as she could, it sounded like pure noise. She didn’t want pure noise. She wanted this...standing here, even underneath the awful fluorescent lights, with her hand on his chest and his eyes giving her that look that made her forget to breathe. She wanted that.
“Yeah,” she heard herself agreeing though she wished she hadn’t. She gestured towards the entrance. They started walking when all of a sudden, Lois found herself grabbing his arm.
“Wait!” she exclaimed. He turned and gave her a quizzical look and she took a deep breath before she could stop herself, she allowed herself to say what she’d been thinking all evening. “I don’t want to go back in.”
“Oh, of course,” Clark said with an understanding nod. Crashing symbols and roaring guitars could be heard through the curtains, so he guided her back towards the snackbar. “We can take a breather for a few minutes if you want. We don’t have to go back in yet.”
“I don’t want a breather. In fact, I don’t want to go back in at all. I should have told you this the moment you asked me, but...” She took another deep breath and steeled herself. “I don’t like Pearl Jam. I mean, I really don’t like them. I only agreed to go to see this concert because you wanted to go so badly and I wanted to go out on a date with you. So I said yes. And I tried, Clark, I really did, but they are just so...so...loud! And maybe that’s what you’re used to. Maybe that’s what they listen to in Smallville, or maybe you came across them on your travels, or saw a Pearl Jam concert in Tibet, or I don’t know, but—”
“Lois—”
“I just really can’t wrap my head around it. The first band was okay, but—”
“Lois—”
“I don’t think I can listen to all the yelling that passes for singing and I—”
“Lois!” She stopped babbling just long enough to notice the shocked and slightly incredulous look on his face. Oh no! Had she ruined their entire night?
“You’re...you’re honestly telling me that you don’t like Pearl Jam at all?” Clark asked. She shook her head and cringed slightly.
“I’m sorry,” she told him, “but I had to be honest. Are you mad at me?”
“Mad?” he echoed, still looking a bit dazed.
“Because you spent all that money,” she supplied. “I know they were quite pricey, and I promise I will pay you back, but I just couldn’t—”
“I don’t care about the money,” he interrupted, his face breaking into a rather wide grin. “I don’t like Pearl Jam either!”
“You...what?” Lois was suddenly beyond confused. “But I thought...but you asked...you don’t like them either?”
He shook his head and she found herself grinning just as widely, both from relief as much as from amusement.
“Oh, thank God,” she said, throwing her arms around him and pressing her body against him once more in what was supposed to be an innocent hug. But as the hug went on, she could feel his heartbeat increase and she knew hers was doing the same. He was warm, smelled good despite their escape from the mosh pit. She wanted to feel his arms around her forever.
Eventually, she stood back, attempting to catch her breath. She busied herself with smoothing out her tank top when she felt the pad of his thumb touch the side of her face ever so gently. It caused a surge of heat to spread through her and she found herself tipping her face up to look at him.
“Lois...” he said, his voice husky and laden with emotion. She stood on her tiptoes and found herself being pulled into his embrace. He met her halfway, capturing her lips gently and then with more assurance as his arms found their way around her waist, pulling her close to him. Her body pressed against his, she found herself on the receiving end of one of the most tender yet passionate kisses she had ever had. When they broke apart, she found herself flushed and breathing heavily.
He stepped back a bit and ran his hand through his hair. “You want to get out of here?” he asked her, equally as affected.
She nodded eagerly.
He suddenly looked a little bit nervous and fiddled with the button on the bottom of his flannel shirt as he spoke the next sentence. “Do you want to go and maybe get some coffee, or...”
“Coffee,” she said firmly, knowing without a doubt what she wanted.
He looked relieved and smiled.
“I know a good place around the corner,” he started to say. She interrupted him by placing her finger against his lips. He stilled immediately and she felt herself smile mischievously.
"Wanna come back to my place for coffee?" Oh, God. That had sounded...really forward, suggestive. Especially because that flirty tone had somehow turned sultry. "I mean...I meant, like, actual coffee..."
But she shouldn't have worried because Clark was nodding and smiling his calm and reassuring Clark smile at her before she even finished backpedalling. "I know what you meant, Lois." He held out his hand and she took it happily. "C'mon, let's get out of here."
