Goodness. I sat down to write a few hundred words and ended up pouring out three thousand. And I know I just posted chapter 12, but in all honesty, I want to finish this story! I'm going to have a busy week and so I need to hustle on writing this weekend while I have time. So here you go! I hope this isn't too much of a Teaching Indecency overload.
From part 12
The well broke with those words and she threw her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly, breathing in his scent and knowing it was the last time she’d be able to do so.
“I’m sorry,” she breathed, her nose pressed squarely against his sternum.
It took a minute, but his arms finally disentangled her iron grip from his waist.
“Lois?” He said softly.
Lois kept her eyes fixed on the cotton of his T-shirt.
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
Her voice broke a little. “I’m not your sweetheart. And I heard what you told me earlier. You were prepared to move away, just for me. Well I’m telling you now, Clark Kent, I’m sick of being immature. I’m sick of focusing on myself and my career only. I’m going to leave Metropolis, Clark. And you are going to stay here and have the life you deserve. I’m just sorry I muddled it up so badly.”
Clark took a step back. “You’re leaving?”
Lois nodded.
“Like hell you are.”
His lips descended on hers before she could form another coherent thought.
Part 13 When she pulled back, disoriented and bewildered by the fiercely passionate look in his eyes, Clark’s eyes were closed. His breath was cool against her cheek as they paused, millimeters from each other. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy and not at all like the one she recognized.
“Stay,” he breathed. His nose just brushed the apple of her cheek as his lips barely skimmed the soft skin. Lois shivered at the contact, the unfamiliar sensations both compelling and frightening. She backed away a half step, but he moved up again, this time effectively trapping her knees against the sofa.
“Why don’t you stay?” he asked in that silky voice, a rumbling growl. Her mind was having a rough time figuring out that herself as her fingers brushed his shoulder completely of their own violation.
She hesitated, logic battling the unbridled want for control. She needed air. She pushed against his chest and wasn’t surprised when he immediately took a wide step back. Despite the debonair way he was sweeping in and making her forget, she knew that deep down she was in control of the situation.
She always had been. But right now she was too tired, and Clark smelled too good. Her mind wasn’t up to deciphering what she should or shouldn’t do, what was off limits and what was okay.
“Can I borrow some dry clothes?” She asked. Clark opened his eyes, the heavy lidded passion firmly under control now. He nodded briskly, appalled at himself for not thinking of that earlier.
Clark disappeared into his bedroom and returned with a pair of sweatpants that luckily had a drawstring and a faded shirt that might have been navy blue at one point. Lois took the clothes without looking at him, shyly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Without a doubt, they had the strangest relationship she could ever have fathomed. If they weren’t arguing, they were kissing and if they weren’t kissing they were being pushed in water towers or hauled in by the police. Despite the still riled emotions stirring inside her, part of her brain was screaming at her to leave.
The part that still remembered the unthinkable thing she had tried to do.
Clark looked around the room a little awkwardly. He gestured with one hand in the general vicinity of his bedroom. “The bathroom’s in there. I’ll,” he swallowed, suddenly nervous. “I’ll wait out here.”
With a nod that tripped on the heels of a jaw cracking yawn, Lois stumbled into the direction Clark had pointed. She closed the door to the bathroom and tugged off the wet dress, struggling a little as it stuck over her head. There was a slight tearing sound as she wrenched it roughly, but she was beyond caring. With a blissful groan, the soft and well washed cotton of Clark’s T-shirt replaced the uncomfortable dress. She grabbed the sweatpants and pulled the drawstring as far as it would go around her waist. It was a little loose, but the shirt hung well around her knees anyway. Clark wouldn’t notice if it sagged a little. A flicker of something that could have been concern flashed through her at the thought of Clark seeing her so frumpy, but she pushed it aside as she walked out of the bathroom. Clark’s bed was positioned very close to the bathroom door, she thought dreamily as she took a seat and curled up with his pillow. How convenient. She’d just rest her eyes for a few minutes before she had to take a cab home. A ground rumbling scream of thunder crashed through the house, and she instinctively curled her arms more tightly against the pillow.
As her exhausted body floated on the down comforter—floated was the only word to describe it, it was absolute bliss—Lois let her eyes drift shut.
Just for a moment.
In the living room, Clark shifted uneasily on the couch. Lois had been in his room changing for quite some time. He debated going to check on her, but disregarded it a few seconds of deliberation later. She probably just needed a few minutes to compose herself.
For a moment Clark wondered if perhaps Lois wasn’t aware that she had been forgiven. That is, of course, if she could forgive him for his tendency to jump to conclusions. He grimaced at the way he had jumped all over her earlier. His frown deepened. Jumped both physically and verbally.
That had to have been what her talk about leaving had been all about. Unless she had said it because she had thought he was leaving too. He had told her that earlier. But things had changed in those long hours. She had hurt him badly, but heck, he had hurt her too. His breath caught in his throat as he relived Lois telling him about her night. He had never thought he would say it, but he owed a huge debt of gratitude to that insidious pig, Claude.
As his eyes shut he saw Lois thrashing in the black water. She screamed for help, but he couldn’t move, could only watch in horror as she was pulled down further and further, each subsequent cry weaker.
Clark wrenched his eyes open, the overhead light piercing and glaring. His heartbeat still stuttered out a nervous staccato in his chest, and with a groan, Clark rolled over to look at the clock on the wall.
Five thirty?! He snapped to attention. Had he really fallen asleep? He had only closed his eyes for a second. It had been a day dream—or the nightmare equivalent of—nothing more. Still, the clock on the wall ticked on, resolutely displaying 5:33 a.m.
Clark stumbled off the sofa and pushed open the door to his bedroom. Had Lois left? But no, he could still hear her heartbeat as a muted background noise. And there she was. Unprepared, Clark’s heart violently constricted inside his chest at the sight that greeted him. She was curled up on his side of the bed, clutching his pillow tightly to her chest. His shirt swallowed her, as did the sweatpants. Her breathing was deep and regular, her hair a tangled mess.
Clark blindly stuck out a hand to the wall to brace himself. Things were so different. His mind vaguely flitted to Lana. She hadn’t slept on her side like that. She slept on her stomach. But even as he mentally berated his subconscious, the pain he prepared himself for didn’t stab through him. There was a sharp twinge in his heart, but his breathing didn’t quicken as it usually did with thoughts of Lana. Clark took a hesitant step forward and moved his eyes from Lois to the framed picture of him and Lana on the nightstand.
They were celebrating his twenty first birthday, he thought a bit wistfully. They both looked so young. That had been a fun night, he remembered wryly. His friends had taken him out and foisted beer after beer on him, trying to get him drunk. It was no matter that all the farm kids in Smallville had been drinking in the fields since they were fifteen. No, now that he of legal age, it was their duty to render him incapacitated. He had ended up having to pretend to stumble out of there. There was no way he couldn’t act drunk after all the alcohol he had guzzled. It had been a fine time, actually. Lana was aware that alcohol didn’t affect him, and he had hammily played up himself as staggeringly drunk, reveling in the fact that she was the only one who knew it was an act. When he had given her a long, sloppy kiss, the boys had all groaned, calling him a pathetic drunk. Lana had given him the evil eye, especially after he gave her a quick and entirely sober wink before turning back to the boys and stumbling around on the grass.
Smiling at the happy memory, Clark nevertheless picked up the picture and opened his closet. His hand brushed past his suit jackets and T-shirts, blindly digging in the far recesses of the closet. He finally found what he was looking for. He pulled out Lana’s favorite sundress. After her death, he could hardly bear to part with her clothing, so instead of selling or donating it, he had boxed it up. Everything but this lavender sundress. Pain welled up in his chest and Clark realized that he wasn’t as immune as he had previously congratulated himself on being. But it had been his wife’s favorite dress. She had worn it around constantly and Clark had groaned and complained about it too many times to count. He would buy her a new sundress, so that they could give this one a break, he would plead in a well rehearsed routine. She would shake her head and stubbornly insist that she liked this one. Yes, he would say, he liked it too. But couldn’t he buy her some new things? She would shake her head, no.
A soft smile filtered across Clark’s face at the memory. He’d give a lot to see her wear it one last time. But as the steady breathing from behind him filled his senses, he made a decision. He gathered the soft material in his hands and held it up to his nose, one last time. He could almost trick himself into believing it still smelled like her perfume, though he knew it to be a lie. His own scent had long permeated the dress. After one more moment, he took the frame and reverently wrapped the dress around it. Soon he had a lavender wrapped package and a tear trickled unheeded down his cheek. He stood on his tip toes and stuck the precious shards of his previous life in an open shoe box on the top shelf.
Tomorrow he would move the bundle to the smaller storage closet where he kept his luggage and the other boxes of Lana’s things. He let out a shuddering breath and nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a small hand on his shoulder.
He turned, the tear track still glistening along the side of his face. Lois stood in front of him, her hair tousled. She glanced back to the spot where the frame had once sat on the nightstand. He didn’t know how much she had seen, and he knew she had no idea of the true significance of the moment, but the soft look in her eyes told him she understood.
Wordlessly, she pulled him into a hug and he held on tight. His throat was suddenly too tight, but it didn’t matter. She stroked her hands over his back, soothing him as a gasp ripped from his throat.
For a long moment, neither spoke nor moved. Clark stepped back a little and looked down at the ground, a lock of hair falling across his eyes.
“Thank you,” he said hoarsely.
Lois nodded. The thunderstorm had stopped sometime during the night and it left a rare silence in its wake. Her voice would sound loud and harsh in the beautiful stillness. She looked down at Clark’s hands. He was holding them to his stomach, pressing them deep against the fabric of his shirt. Her hand snuck between them and closed over his, gently detangling it from the cotton material and his other fingers. “It’s okay,” she finally whispered to him.
Clark nodded, a soft and vulnerable look in his eyes.
“You’re not really going to go, are you?” he said quietly. His voice sounded strained and it broke Lois’ heart.
Running her fingers restlessly over his, Lois stared at their fingers as she spoke.
“How can I stay?” The thought of leaving Clark wrought physical pain as her stomach wrenched, but she had made a promise to herself. There were things she had done that she wouldn’t forget, no matter how long she lived. She had almost ruined this man and no matter what he thought, she wasn’t able to forgive herself.
Clark brought up a hand to stroke her hair as his eyes frantically moved across her face. The stillness was cracking between them, as unwanted logic and tension returned.
“No,” he said roughly. He brushed his lips against her cheek. “No, you can’t leave.”
He felt Lois shudder slightly beneath his parted lips, and her grip tightened on his hand, even as her words pulled her father away. “I’ve lost my chance at the Planet,” she tried again.
“There are other newspapers,” a feather-light caress smoothed across her temple as he spoke and his breath tickled her face.
“That’s not the only reason, Clark, and you know it just as well as I do.” Lois was beginning to grow frustrated, but she couldn’t find the willpower to leave his embrace. As his lips brushed her forehead, she snuck a kiss on the exposed underside of his jaw. When he spoke, his throat rumbled beneath her lips. “Stay,” he commanded gently.
With a gasp, Lois wrenched from him, her body immediately clamoring for his warm embrace. She turned from him, her breathing labored. Her hands came up to wrap themselves around her arms as she leaned a burning forehead against the cool window. The world was a gray mist, but there were hardly any cars out yet.
She felt rather than saw Clark move behind her, though he did not touch her.
“Then I’ll go with you,” he said.
Her breath caught in her throat as she half turned toward him. “Excuse me?”
“I said I’ll go with you,” he repeated. His brown eyes were quite determined behind the wire frames of his glasses. “If you won’t stay, I’ll go.”
Something between a frustrated scream and a laugh escaped from her mouth. “Clark! I’m leaving to get away from you. I don’t deserve this.”
“You don’t deserve what?” Clark took a step forward and Lois turned complete around to face him. “You don’t deserve a chance to be happy? You don’t deserve a chance to love?”
“I ruined that.”
For the first time, Clark’s eyes flashed. “Damn it, Lois! I’m begging you to stay. I’m telling you that you have ruined nothing, got that? Nothing.” Lois tugged on the sleeves of the shirt she had borrowed from him anxiously. “Tonight has been insane. Look at all the mistakes we’ve made.”
“You mean I’ve made.”
“Lois you were almost killed,” Clark’s voice lowered as he spoke, a rough note meshing with his gentle tone. “I couldn’t have borne it if that had happened. Don’t you see? Can’t you understand how quickly life can be snatched from us?” Clark looked into her eyes, his expression deeply intent. “Life is too short to hold grudges. I’ve been holding onto pain and loneliness because I’ve been under the delusion that they protected me. But look! Here I am and my heart is just as vulnerable as it was that day.”
Lois’ eyebrows furrowed and Clark winced. “The day she died.”
Her expression immediately shuttered. “I see,” she said delicately. “I know you’re still grieving for her, Clark. And that’s why I need to le--”
“No! That’s not it. I meant,” Clark paused, trying to put his thoughts into a semblance of order. “I mean, all these years I’ve separated myself. I didn’t want to fall in love. But you’ve barreled in and broken down all that protection, Lois. Like it wasn’t even there at all. That’s what I meant. No matter how much you try to shut it out, love doesn’t respond to any self erected barriers around the heart.”
A sparkle caught Clark’s eye as he saw the tears gather in hers. No, he groaned inwardly. He hadn’t meant to make her cry. Anything but that.
“Lois, please,” he pleaded. He barely even knew what he was begging for. Would she leave? Was he getting through to her at all? Couldn’t she see that leaving would absolutely devastate him?
“I need you, Lois,” he finally said. “Somehow you’ve become this huge part of my life. I’d very much like to take you on a proper date. Anywhere you want.”
As he spoke the words, Clark realized that he meant them. By God, if she wanted dinner in Paris, he was quite sure he’d scoop her up and float them right out the window, secret be damned. Did that mean he wanted to tell her? The thought didn’t immediately send up warning flags in his head, which was a warning all in itself.
“I…” Lois paused and a small glimmer of hope sparked in Clark’s heart at the hesitation in her eyes. He had one last card to play and though it was a risk, he would do it.
“Lois, I can talk myself hoarse here, trying to get you to understand how much you mean to me,” Clark began. His head swum. Was he really about to do this? Was he crazy? “But I’ve always been a firm believer of showing rather than telling.”
Lois looked up at him curiously. Thank God the tears had left, he thought with a sigh. There, he had captured her interest.
“Lois, before you make your decision… there’s something you need to know.”
Lois struggled to interpret the apparently new stream of conversation. “Yes? What?”
“I… I’m about to tell you something that I have never actually told a human being before. There are three people in this world who knew, but I never actually made the conscious choice to tell any of them. One found out by accident and the other two… well…” Clark paused, aware that he was babbling furiously. “And… You see, I’m trusting you with this information. But it’s yours to do what you wish with. If you never want to see me again,” his eyes closed briefly in pain, “I’ll understand. I will not bother you again. But if you choose to… accept it… I hope you’ll understand that I’m giving you my heart. This level of trust, well, let’s just say it’s been ingrained in me to never give it up.”
Lois’ eyes were wide as she watched him ramble. “Clark, you’re scaring me. What is it?”
“It’s nothing to be scared of. Please don’t be scared,” he whispered. “I don’t know how else to prove to you that I mean what I say when I ask you to stay.” His chin rolled down to rest on his neck at the terrible rhyme. “I didn’t mean that to rhyme,” he said. “I’m not that cheesy.”
Lois let out a breathless, nervous giggle and Clark gave her a tentative smile. He took a step back and hauled in a deep breath.
“Lois Lane… there are things that I can do. Things that go beyond the normal.”
Lois’ forehead creased as she tried to figure out his cryptic remarks. “You mean… the paranormal?” she hazarded a guess.
“No, no, nothing like that.” Clark paused. “Actually, well kind of like that. Well, no. Not really…” He gave a frustrated groan at his ineptitude. Why was this so difficult?! She was going to run away all right, but because he was a great babbling idiot!
“Lois, I can… um… well you see, I can… My parents adopted me. I was a foundling actually.”
Lois nodded helpfully. A sparkle of amusement lit her eyes and despite the fact that it was because she was amused by him, it sent his heart leaping. At least the sad, heartbreaking look was temporarily banished. He wondered if telling her about his true self wasn’t just inviting more heartbreak to trample over him. He took a breath. Spit it out, Kent!
“I can fly.”
No! No! No! Clark wanted to scream. He hadn’t meant it to sound so… freakish. Apparently his conscious mind took spitting out the thought on his mind a little too literally.
“Excuse me?” Now Lois was looking decidedly amused.
Clark wanted to throw himself out the window.
“Lois,” he forced himself to calm down. “There are things I can do, as I said. Things beyond human capabilities. I’ve spent my life covering them up, but I hope you can appreciate what it took to tell you this. I’m trusting you with everything.”
Now Lois had a full out laugh building. “Oh Clark, I thought you were going to tell me you’ve murdered a man or something,” she pulled his stunned self into a hug. Her giggle was bubbly champagne spilling down over them. “If you’re going to all of this trouble, well, I mean… I’ll stay.” Her eyes suddenly grew a little worried as she released him. “It’s okay, if I stay, right? I mean I know you said it was, and you obviously were at the edge of lunacy if you were expecting me to believe you can fly, but…”
Clark was staring at her in disbelief. She had agreed to stay! He was rejoicing inwardly. He could simply go along with her explanation that his passion had driven him to lunacy. Yes, and his secret would remain that way and Lois would stay and… His wild thoughts drifted off as a new ache settled in his heart. He wanted to tell her, though. And although she was giving him an out, could he really do that to her? To not explain what she was getting into if she tried a relationship with him? He owed the truth to her and nothing less. Clark gently tugged away from her.
“Lois, I was serious,” he said.
And then he stepped back across the room and floated three feet off the ground.
