What Are Friends For

TITLE: What Are Friends For

AUTHOR: Midknight

CHAPTER: 2 of 6

FANDOM: Smallville

SHIP: Chloe / Clark

RATING: NC-17

CATEGORY: Erotica

SPOILERS: A couple, Season Five

UNIVERSE: As per cannon, just an AU look at things that might have happened.

DISCLAIMER: None of these characters belong to me. They belong to The WB and whoever else does. I pay homage to them and I make no profit from this story in any fashion, way or means.

AUTHORS NOTE: I apologize before hand and hope you will forgive any errors or blatant discrepancies.

FEEDBACK: Yes Please. It helps. It really, really helps. - Deton8@mweb.co.za

Chapter Two

The Kent Farm, the barn, Clark's loft

She lay, draped across his chest, too sated to move. She felt the evidence of their last half hours labour trickling down the inside of her thigh. He shifted and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch to cover them and she snuggled against him.

She remembers the awkwardness between them that Saturday-morning almost four months ago. She'd woken up alone in his bed thinking she'd had one doozy of a dream until she noted her location, her nudity and the pleasant complaints from her muscles, from the strenuous and all-to-real exertion she had shared with Clark, when she stretched. She lay still as squares of bright morning sunlight fell on the bed. She abscently noted that the bedside lamp was off and the bandana she had placed on it was gone. She wondered why she wasn't more concerned, but simply remembering some of the events of the night before brought back echoes of pleasure. Whatever the outcome, she would not regret what they'd done and Clark would do as he would. She would deal with that when and as it happened.

She'd done it. They'd done it and it had been amazing. She only had one other point of reference, but what she'd experienced the night before was simply beyond anything she had contemplated possible and she didn't think it had anything to do with his superpowers. The only way to prove that conclusively would be to ask Lana and she didn't think that was likely to happen soon. She could almost hear the conversation in her head: "So, Lana just how great a lay is Clark. Did you teach him that thing he does with his tongue or is it part of his alien heritage?" She snorted, breaking the silence. "Yes, that would go well." She said out loud. "To prove anything they might just have to..." she squelched the thought in its infancy. It was a one-time thing. They'd both made that quite clear. Hadn't they? "Stop it." She chided herself.

She hung her head over the side of the bed in search of her clothes, which she had carelessly discarded on the floor. They weren't there and she frowned and concluded they were most likely on the other side of the bed. She could have easily gotten confused, her mind had been on far weightier matters. She made to check the other side of the bed when she noticed the chair next to his bedroom door. All her clothes were folded neatly on the seat, including the blouse she'd left behind on the stairs. "Thanks, Clark." She whispered under her breath and swung her feet out of the bed and onto the floor.

The floorboard squeaked slightly as she stood and a moment later there was a knock on the door. "You decent?" Clark's voice came through the wood. "No." she replied, hastily grabbing the sheet and wrapping herself in it. She needn't have bothered because he didn't open the door. "No rush. There are fresh towels in the bathroom and breakfast will be ready in about twenty minutes or so. Why don't you grab a shower and come down when you're ready." He suggested through the closed door and then she heard his footsteps retreating. She dropped the sheet realizing that unless they suddenly developed a high lead thread count, if he wanted to catch another glimpse of her naked body, she really wouldn't be able to stop him. The funny thing was she wouldn't have minded if he did.

She grabbed one of his trademark plaid shirts from the back of the chair her clothes rested on, sure he wouldn't mind her wearing it for her trip down the hall to the bathroom. She held the collar up to her nose and breathed in, drawing in his scent. She took the shirt away from her nose guiltily. "This isn't helping." She thought.

The hot water felt good on her skin and as she showered she found undisputable evidence of their union dried on the inside of her thighs and a montage of mental images of how it got there played in her head. Her hands switched from cleaning to caressing as she fondled her breasts and let her fingers work their way between her labia. She slid first one finger and then another inside herself, slowly sawing them back and forth. Her thumb found her clit and slowly circled it before applying pressure directly to the sensitive little button, trying to recapture some of the sensations she'd felt with Clark. Her fingers felt slightly inadequate, but with enough attention and the familiarity she has with her own body she'd brought herself to orgasm. She rested with her forehead on the cool tiles under the showerhead while the hot water rained down on the back of her neck and shoulders as she came down from her self-induced pleasure high with the shocking revelation that it wouldn't be quite as high any more. Already a consequence, and one she would never have thought of in a million years.

With, a sigh, she finished her shower and turned off the water. She patted herself dry and then wrapped herself in the soft, fluffy towel. She made to leave the steamy bathroom to return to his room to dress when she glimpsed a flash of her misty reflection. She used her forearm to swipe clear a portion of the mirror to get a clear view of it. She still looked the same. Shoulder-length, corn-blonde hair, cupid bow lips she never felt were full enough, big green-grey eyes with long lashes and a button nose framed in a fairly average shaped face, but she'd also just masturbated in the Kent's shower. She continued to look at herself until the mirror misted up and her reflection became indistinct once more in an aptly visual representation of how she was feeling.

She returned to his room and dried and dressed quickly. She smiled to herself when she saw her bag was now sitting on the foot of the bed. "Trust him to think of something like that." She thought, as she was able to find her brush and comb to fix her towel-dried hair and her make-up. She paused with her hand on the doorknob of his bedroom, took a deep breath and, with her bag under her arm, headed downstairs.

Who would have thought that Clark was into guilt cooking, but that is what it looked like. There seemed to be every kind of breakfast food imaginable on the kitchen table and even after she sat down Clark had continued to bustle around. She knew avoidance when she saw it, and its camouflage was pretty thin in Clark's case. "Consequences. Consequences." She thought and tucked into the griddlecakes she had selected and syruped a little over-enthusiastically. They were good. She had poured herself a tall glass of milk, which made the perfect accompaniment to the griddlecakes. Clark finally settled across the table from her to join in the breakfast feast he had prepared.

He wouldn't meet her eyes, but she kept catching him giving her furtive glances. After awhile it started to get irritating and she pushed her plate away. "Look, Clark. No. I mean actually look at me." She told him, staring at him until he raised his head and looked at her face. "I know this is weird and awkward. We've seen each other naked and we had sex and it was... great, but we also proved that you can be physically intimate without your powers becoming a problem. That's why we did it. Remember? You needed this to keep Lana. I know you need it to work between you two." She continued, hoping that stating the facts would help settle Clark's obvious consternation.

"I know, Chloe and thanks. You have no idea how much I really appreciate it. I don't mean to be difficult about this. I'm just still trying to process. We did really push the bounds of friendship last night. It's just... It was good for you?" he asked suddenly changing tack. She was thrown for a moment by his sudden change. "Yes. Yes, it was. It sure was a hell of a lot better than... ermm. Yes." She finished lamely hoping she wasn't blushing. "And for you?" she countered, her journalist's curiosity mixing with her own self-doubts. He dipped his head, but not before she saw him smile. "It was good. You were great. I never thought you'd be so... It was good." He answered lifting his head so that she could see his broad smile.

"We'll be okay, Clark. It was good, no one got or will get hurt and we got the answers you needed." She said definitively and then tucked back into her breakfast. They ate and chatted with a modicum of normality and when she could eat no more she sat back, barely holding in a less than lady-like belch of satisfaction. She glanced at the clock on the wall and realized it was getting along to eleven o'clock already. She hadn't realized how late she'd slept and she still had some research to do at the Met U library and a paper to write for that Monday.

She felt like they had said all that needed saying and only time would tell about the impact on their relationship. So she'd thanked him for the delicious breakfast. She offered to help with the dishes, but he declined, so she told him she had to get back to Metropolis. They said their goodbyes and the hug he gave her felt a bit longer and a bit tighter, but she didn't mind, it felt good. He told her he might see her a little later as he was going to see Metropolis to see Lana once his parents got back later that afternoon. She told him she'd most likely be at the library and he said he'd call her on her mobile to find out if they could hook-up. She found herself chuckling softly as his cheeks coloured at the implication. "Yeah, Clark, we can hook-up. Anytime you want." She teased scandalously enjoying him squirm. "For coffee, Clark. Just coffee." She finished patting him on his shoulder and he chuckled too. She waved as she drove away.
Months passed and they weathered and dealt with whatever crisis arose. She thought things between Clark and Lana were getting better. They were spending more time together at least. Their friendship did not seem to have suffered any ill effect, except for a few days of awkwardness just after. In fact, it felt stronger. She was getting used to college life. She was making friends, but still hadn't found a special one, not that she was looking. Privately, it did worry her a little, at the beginning anyway, that her masturbatory fantasies now almost exclusively featured Clark, but it got the job done faster and, if she were honest, better so after awhile she let it go. They were only fantasies after all.

She started to realize why Clark had always seemed so guarded and how hard it must have been for him, how hard it was for him. There hadn't been a lot of people his own age he could have spoken to and he had lost those when Pete left and Alicia died. Now that she knew his secret, he was more open with her. She knew there was some things he wouldn't share with her and most of it had to do with Lana, but she respected that.

Then, on another Friday night she decided to drive through to the Kent farm, She was supposed to have met Clark for a movie in Metropolis, but all she'd gotten was a brief and cryptic message, canceling, on her mobile while she was already standing outside the cinema. That in it self wasn't strange, but she'd caught something in his voice that warranted further investigation. She saw a dim light coming from his loft, so she bypassed the house and went straight to the barn. She found him sitting on the sofa with a single lamp turned down low with his head in his hands. She knew he must have been aware of her, even without his super-senses the stairs were pretty creaky, but he didn't move or look up when she entered.

She sat down next to him, not quite knowing what to about his obvious distress. After a while he started to speak. He spoke softly and she scooted closer to him to hear him better. He had found out that Lana's sudden move to study at Met U had been prompted by her need to study the second meteor shower, and then that Lex had something to do with it as well. She had been lying to him and he could feel her drifting away from him. He also confessed that their physical relationship was non-existent. He'd tried, but by the time she had helped him prove that he could safely be intimate with Lana, she had decided otherwise. She was amazed that even with his obvious misery he apologized for not telling her saying he hadn't want to cheapen what she'd done for him by telling her it hadn't helped.

His voice sounded hollow and weary. His bearing and manner were so very uncharacteristically, those of defeat. He sounded lost and seemed so completely out of sync with the strong hero and vibrant lover images she had developed of him and her heart went out to him. She threw her arm around his neck and shoulders and rested her on the edge of his shoulder. "You'll figure it out, Clark. You're... Well you're you after all." She told him softly. He dropped his hands and turned to look at her with a wan little smile.

She remembers cupping his cheek with her other hand, just a simple gesture of sympathy and before she realized it, she'd slid around, straddling his lap and was drawing his lips to hers. He didn't offer the slightest hint of resistance. They kissed, starting tentatively, but soon, heads tilted, lips opened and tongues wrestled and explored. She felt a further thrill when she realized they were watching each other while they kissed, their eyes wide open. His seemed amazingly clear to her. She wondered what he saw in hers, the friendship and comfort she intended or the lust she felt rising in herself.

She released her hold on his face when his hands slid under the shoulders of her denim jacket. She shrugged and let him push the garment off her shoulders and let it fall to the ground, only lightening their searching kiss by the merest of degrees. His hands left warm prints as they ventured down her arms and back and then latched on to her waist, pulling her tighter against him. She moaned into his mouth, as she felt him grow in his jeans, pressing against her panties where her skirt had ridden up. She could feel herself grow open and wet. Her nipples dragged across the lacey material of her bra as she hardened with an electric tingle. She ground against his growing bulge without any conscious thought and felt his hips jerk against her own.

At, his gentle urging, she broke their kiss. They were both breathing heavily as they watched each other. "What are we doing, Chloe." He whispered as she rested her forehead on his. "We're being friendly, that's what friends do, isn't it? Think of it as a form of comfort and solace, Clark. Better yet, don't think about it at all." She answered and then captured his lips once more.

She half-expected him to protest, to fight her advances, but instead his hands slid lower, worked their way under her bunched up skirt and fondled her ass cheeks, firmly caressing the firm, panty-clad globes. They writhed against each other as they kissed. Her hands dragged his t-shirt from his jeans and wormed their way under the material to caress the skin beneath. She catalogued the ridges and valleys of his muscles as they shifted under his smooth skin. Her own skin heated and her clothes felt uncomfortable against her skin.

He took his hands off her ass when she started pulling his t-shirt upwards. He lifted his arms above his head and she dragged the garment off him, breaking their kiss, only at the very last moment and re-engaging it again as soon as his mouth was free. She tossed it behind her, not caring where it landed. His fingers tangled in her hair for a few moments and then slid to her neck and then the front of her blouse. His fingers worked feverishly to free the buttons. She relinquished his lips to kiss and suck at the flesh of his neck, giving his eyes the freedom to guide his hands. Even so, the second button popped and spun off into the gloom beyond the meager lamplight. He managed the others, without incident and pushed the blouse from her shoulders. She shook it from her arms, annoyed when it caught at her right wrist, but a bit more effort sent the blouse to join his t-shirt and her jacket on the floor.

She pressed into his lips as it explored her newly exposed skin. Her own lips murmured praises and encouragements into the cool evening air as it and his lips caressed her heated flesh, one in contrast and the latter adding fresh blooms of heat. She felt his fingers fumbling along the back strap of her bra and she let out a throaty laugh. She took his head in her hands and drew his lips from her skin so that she could look in to his eyes. "The clasps in the front." She advised him before giving him a quick kiss on the lips. She felt his lips shift into a grin and she ran her tongue along his teeth as she felt his finger work the clasp holding the cups of her bra together.

She experienced an intense sense of relief as the undergarment gave and freed her full breasts and straining nipples. They didn't remain free for long, but she liked these restraints a lot more as large, strong hands cupped and caressed the flesh of her breasts. His groan harmonized with her moan as his thumb found, circled and flicked the hard nubs of her nipples, while she shrugged her brassier off her shoulders and down her arms. She drew her fingernails across the length of his broad shoulders and then back to his neck and up into his hair.

Her arms surrounded his head as she pressed his face into her breasts. His tongue flicked out and lapped into her cleavage, drawing a hot wet line. She let him repeat himself before she guided his mouth to the left and her hard sensitive nipple. She wanted to feel the heat and moisture of his mouth surround her achingly hard nipple, but he let her guide him only so far. His lips, tongue and teeth became teasing. His lips sucked at the flesh around her areola, even surrounding her nipple at time, but not touching it with tongue or teeth. His teeth nipped and tested the flesh of her breast, again avoiding the straining nub and to tantalize further his tongue toothed where his teeth had abused before circling her areola in a decreasing spiral. She tried to drag his head closer, but it resisted her like a steel bar.

She could feel him, hot, hard and throbbing through his jeans as she ground the damp gusset of her panties along the ridged length of him. He finally relented went she made a soft cry of frustrated dissatisfaction and dug her nails into his scalp. He sucked her areola and nipple into his mouth, sealing his lips to her flesh while his teeth nipped and toyed at her tender little erection before his wet tongue soothed and flicked with every swipe. "Oh fuck! Yes!" she heard the expletive drift into the still air, but it took a moment for her to realize it had issued from her own lips. She felt justified as his mouth felt amazing on her breasts as he shifted and repeated himself on her other breast.

He took his time, shifting from hard peak to hard peak. His fingers and palms massage her tit flesh in counterpoint. She's dry humping him, mashing her clit against him. Sparks of pleasure snake their way up her spine to join the surges from her breasts. She finds herself simply repeating his name in soft pleas and hungry demands. She wants more and she reaches down between them and starts fumbling at his belt buckle and the prize it holds.

At first, it frustrates her attempts, but at last it and then the button and zipper of his jeans give, much to her delight. She grabs the waistband of his jeans and boxers and tugs, but without much effect. He seems too fascinated by her breasts to notice her efforts and although she is most pleased with his attention, she wants more. She wants the once tasted, and never forgotten feeling of him deep inside her. The only way of quenching the furnace that burns ever brighter in her core with each shared caress. He notices when she rises on her knees, breaking the contact between their crotches and leans forward and nips his earlobe. "Lift your butt." She whispers with an edge of desperation.

His response was to suck harder at her breast and to pull her rather firmly back down onto his lap making her groan. But, when she tugged at the waistbands of his jeans and boxers again, he shifted, bracing his shoulder blades against the back of the couch and lifted his butt enough for her to get the garments free of his erection and partway down his thighs.

Her hand found his erection and wrapped around it, skimming her fist up along its hot, hard, smooth and pulsing length. Her thumb found the head and the slippery liquid oozing from its tip. She spread it around and with a jerk and a moan against her breast he produced more. She drew her fist higher coating her fingers and then reversed her movement, jacking his length with slow, even strokes that synced with his sucking mouth and squeezing hands.

His head lifted from her breasts and she could see him grit his teeth as he threw his head back, resting it against the couch as it moved slowly from side to side and his hips jerked, thrusting up into her fist. He hissed her name with passion and desire on a long, slow breath. She felt her own juices flood as her sex contracted, acutely aware that there was nothing to contract against. She needed to remedy that.

She rose up further on her knees and reached for the gusset of her panties with her free hand. She had to pry her fingers between it and her flesh, finding the material soaked and sticky. The touch of her fingers on her swollen flesh shot further sparks of sensation through her being as she dragged the material down and to the side. Cool air made her most intimate flesh feel all the hotter as she shifted up and forward to place herself over him. Her fist slid to his base and tightened, holding him steady as she lowered herself, rubbing the head of his cock between her full, swollen nether lips until it found her opening.

His hands left her breasts and traveled down her sides. His fingertips traced the ridges and valleys of her ribs to come to rest and gripping her waist and hips. The moment froze there as they looked into each other's eyes and they steadied their breathing in anticipation. She felt her thighs tremble with the effort of keep her still and aloft and then with gentle guidance from his hands she no longer needed to. She gasped and her breath hitched as she slid down his length, a half-inch at a time. Her flesh resisted and welcomed him, creating a delicious friction that stoked the furnace with in her to burn hotter and brighter. She clenched at him as gravity and his guiding hands worked together to impale her upon him. She released his shaft and her hands clutched at his fore arms, then his biceps and finally his shoulders.

She blinked rapidly as she tried to process the sensation, the image of his face appearing and disappearing in rapid succession before she let her eyelids flutter closed to better appreciate the feelings in the darkness they provided as he filled her. She sucked in air through her nose and mouth to get air to power her straining muscles as she came to rest with him fully hilted inside her and again they rested.

The backs of his fingers stroked her back, lightly tracing her spine. "Your skin is so smooth." He whispered in her ear and she murmured his name in response. Then, slowly, they began the dance of thrust and roll, rise and fall and rock and grind. Their lips met and parted. Tongues dueled and explored as their pace increased. Their voices rose in promise and threat, suggestion and encouragement and finally to half-words and passionate noises. He is thrusting harder and she can again see his teeth grit. Her own lower lip is pinned behind her teeth, so hard, she fears she may draw blood.

Waves of pleasure wash through her, making her nerves tingle and the furnace inside her blaze. The flames lick at her sanity, each thrust making them hotter, each grinding joining of bodies driving them higher. She feels her insides melt and go molten as the furnace flares and can contain her pleasure no more. Her orgasm rips through her like a geyser, washing away thought and the world in its path. Her cunt grips at him, clasping at his hard filling shaft, not quite impeding his thrust. Motes of light dance behind her tightly-shut eyes as she throws her head back in a wordless cry and her back becomes a rigid bow.

She feels him inside her, grow, pulse and subside, grow, pulse and subside, again and again. His seed splashes deep inside her. She hears him grunt as if from a far way away. Each growth and subsidence of his shaft inside renews' her own waning climax. Making her muscles tense and her nerves sing. When it finally ends they are both gulping for air and her sex still clenches at him sporadically.

Her forehead slumps to his shoulder as her body goes boneless against his. She is surprised to see her fingernails have left little red crescents on his skin. She can feel their combined juices slowly leaking out of her as his penis shrinks from within her as well. Their breathing is a ragged, heavy noise in the silence that follows and he wraps his arms around her in a comfortable cocoon.

He shifts and guides her until she is draped across his chest and lying on the couch. He then covers them with a blanket that had been draped across the back of the couch. There is a slight twinge of guilt. She knows he'll always be hung up on Lana, no matter how much they seemed to keep hurting each other. She wants to believe she has done this for him, that she will do it again. But, just how pure are her motives? She does love him, as her friend, once she'd hoped for something more, but that is something she knows is not meant to be. Yet, they do seem to make good lovers. "Why couldn't they be friends with benefits?" she wonders as she drifts off to sleep.

TO BE CONTINUED