by Menolly
Lois set a match to the fire in the grate in the main room, a little chilled from sitting outside, despite the sunlight. The kindling caught, flames licking against the larger pieces of wood, and she sat back on the sofa, curling her legs under her as she leant back in contentment. The next flavour on the menu, Macadamia Nut Brittle, had her smiling at contrast between her mood now, and her mood the day the memories brought back ...
Lois jabbed her finger on the cut-off button of the phone, scowling as she dialled the last number from the list in front of her.
"Hello?" a voice answered.
"Hello. This is Lois Lane, of the Daily Planet. I was ..." she trailed off as she heard, for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, a click as the person at the other end put the telephone down. She slammed the receiver down and buried her face in her hands. It was 10 o'clock at night, her ears hurt from all the telephone calls she'd made, and she was no closer to getting an angle on this story than she had been at 10 o'clock in the morning.
Lois picked up her Rolodex and started to flick through it half-heartedly, then put it back on the desk and stood up abruptly. She'd had enough, and she didn't think she was going to get anywhere at this hour of night. It was time to cut her losses and go get some sleep. Perhaps she'd think more clearly tomorrow morning. Picking up her bag and coat she half-walked, half-ran through the deserted office, heading for the elevator, struggling to put her coat on as she did so. She put out her hand to reach for the button to call the elevator, her head down as she looked for her gloves in her bag with her other hand. The door opened as she did so and she automatically started to walk into the elevator. She cannoned into something solid as she stepped in, and lost her balance.
The person she'd walked into reached out to steady her. "Lois ... watch where you're going," said Clark, "not everyone has my ...tolerance ... for getting their feet spiked by your heels."
Lois recovered her balance. "Then I suppose it's just as well it was you and not someone else, or I'd be getting sued. Perfect end to a perfect day that would be," she grumbled. "Anyway, what are you doing here at this hour? I thought you went to that Neighbourhood Watch meeting or something."
"I did, and it's over. You weren't home when I got back, so I thought I'd come and see how you were doing - I couldn't get through to your direct line, it looked like you were still trying those phone calls" replied Clark, taking in her obvious irritation. "Apparently you didn't get anywhere with them?"
"You're a mind-reader now, too?" snapped Lois. "Anyway, are you coming or going? I want to get home, and blocking this elevator isn't getting us anywhere." She pushed at Clark, who stepped back, letting her into the elevator with him. She punched the button for the ground floor, then turned at looked at Clark properly for the first time since the elevator doors had opened. He had obviously changed since he left the Planet for that meeting, she thought; the black turtleneck sweater and black jeans he wore under the dark grey raincoat were definitely not normal working clothes. Fighting the distraction of his wearing black, she looked up at his face and saw the concern there, and something else. He looked as though he was trying to decide whether to comfort her or leave her to work her way through her annoyance.
Her reaction was to wish he'd just hug her. The anger and frustration faded to the back of her mind as she moved across to stand next to him.
"I'm sorry. It's been a lousy day, but I really shouldn't take it out on you. Would you just hold me, please?" she asked, her arms sliding around him, under his coat. Clark wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him. She relaxed against him as the familiar warmth and scent of him surrounded her.
"It's ok, Lois. You need to let it out somehow, and to be honest I'd rather you yelled at me than got an ulcer" he said softly, kissing the top of her head as she lay her head on his shoulder. The elevator reached the ground floor, and they left the building. Clark put his arm around Lois' shoulders as they crossed the road to walk home, and half-listened to her complaining. These days he listened to the tone of her voice when she was in this mood, not the words. The tone was usually a better indication of how she was feeling, and it seemed she was beginning to get over the day's frustrations.
"Ugh. Drizzle. I really hate this weather ... it's not raining, it's not not raining ... it's just grey," said Lois as she felt the fine mist settling over her. She continued in much the same way for the few blocks walk home, finally halting the monologue as they climbed the stairs to their apartment.
"I'm going to go shower and get changed. Maybe if I'm not dressed for work I won't think about work" said Lois, heading for the bedroom. Clark smiled at her retreating back.
"That'll be the day," he said under his breath "if only it was that easy." He had developed a few ideas that generally did take her mind off work though, and he had a feeling he'd have to use one or more of them tonight if she was going to get any sleep. He headed for the kitchen and rummaged around in the fridge, finally pulling a carton of ice cream from the freezer section. Taking a spoon from a drawer he wandered through into the main room, kicking off his shoes as he did so.
Lois came back through, hair still damp from the shower, and dressed in a pair of cream silk pyjamas. She saw Clark standing at the glass door to the terrace, looking out over the lights of Metropolis as he took occasional scoops of ice cream.
"Ice cream ... I could really use some of that" she said, coming up behind him, reaching round to try to grab the spoon. Clark laughed and twisted around.
"Only if you can reach it ..." he teased, holding the ice cream over her head. Lois tried to reach up to grab it, but he held it just out of her reach.
"Ok ..." Lois looked around, and dragged one of the dining chairs over and stood on it. "Ha ... now I can ... no, I can't! Clark, how many times have I told you that's not fair! You know I can't fly!" She struggled not to laugh as Clark floated in mid-air, still only half-way to the ceiling of the loft apartment. He had a grin on his face as he watched her standing on the chair, her arms folded in frustration. She looked at him, trying to scowl, and broke out in giggles as his grin only grew wider. "Oh, this isn't funny ..." She jumped and grabbed at his leg. "Get down here!" she laughed, pulling at his jeans. Clark drifted downwards, crossing his legs as though sitting on the floor. He stopped when he was level with Lois.
"Come and sit down, and you can have some ice cream," he invited. Lois looked at him.
"I may have done gymnastics once, but that was a long time ago. You want me to sit on your lap, you sit on the floor ..." Clark lowered himself until he sat on the floor, as requested. Lois made a quick grab for the ice cream.
"Oh no you don't ..." teased Clark, moving away a short distance in a blur. "You know what you have to do if you want it ..." Lois pouted a little and gave in, sitting in his lap, facing him. Clark rose from the floor until they were hanging in mid-air, half-way between the floor and the ceiling; Lois let her legs trail below them as she sat on Clark's thighs. He moved slightly to get more comfortable, and she felt his muscles shifting through the denim under her legs. The movement rippled through her, and she closed her eyes with a soft sigh.
"Open your mouth," whispered Clark, and Lois did so, moistening her lips with her tongue. She opened her eyes to see a sudden flare of heat in Clark's eyes, damped deliberately as he turned his attention to the tub of ice cream that he held, scooped a spoonful and offered it to her.
"Mmm .. bliss ..." said Lois, letting the cold melt in her mouth before swallowing. Clark offered another spoonful. Lois shook her head "Thanks, but one's enough ... I've already gone through three fudge crunch bars this evening," she said with a hint of embarrassment as she ducked her head against Clark's shoulder.
"Oooh ... capital offence," chuckled Clark, floating them down and into the kitchen to put the tub back into the freezer.
"So ... what shall we do now?" he asked, as they drifted back into the main room. Lois laughed when they dipped to avoid the lintel as they passed under the door from the kitchen.
"This feels like being on a magic carpet ... without the carpet," she chuckled, clutching hold of Clark's shoulders with a sharp intake of breath as he suddenly dropped them almost to the floor before zooming up towards the ceiling. "Hey ... don't forget I'm sitting on your lap! I almost fell off back there!"
"As if I could forget ..." muttered Clark. He'd outdone himself with that manoeuvre he thought; it had shifted Lois hard against him, and her closeness was having its usual effect. "Three years of marriage. Whoever said familiarity breeds contempt was way off base ..." he said with a short laugh.
Lois looked at him a little quizzically. "What are you talking about?" she asked. Clark shifted against her. "Ohh ... I see," she grinned "and you're complaining? I'm not ..."
"Me? Complain? About this? Not a chance ... I just occasionally wish that something as simple as having you close wouldn't immediately set off this reaction. Once in a while I'd like just to hold you without having certain parts of me celebrating as though Christmas had come early. Especially when you're tired ..." he trailed off as Lois hugged him.
"Clark .. I'm not complaining ... I love it. I mean, like you said, it's been three years. I'm not exactly the most secure person in the world, but I've never in those three years felt insecure about us. You never treat me as though this is all that matters, even when you are ... reacting ... like this. So don't worry about it - I think I'd worry if you didn't react." Lois kissed him, aiming to put into the kiss everything she'd tried to say. Her arms slid up and around his neck, one hand playing with the short curls in his hair as she held him close until she felt him relax against her and embrace her, returning the kiss.
As they kissed with soft, short, touches, Clark floated them both across to the stereo and selected a CD. Music began to play in the background and he sent them back up towards the ceiling in a slow spiral. Lois smiled, leaning back a little to look at him.
"You are so much more than ... the cause of my reaction," said Clark, his voice soft, "I couldn't even begin to consider you just that."
"And I suppose there's another thing to take into consideration ..." mused Lois, curving her hand around his jaw, her fingers sliding into the neck of his sweater.
"What's that?" asked Clark, turning his head to kiss her palm.
"The fact that you ... cause the same reaction ... in me. With as little provocation. Sometimes no provocation at all. Just looking at you. Or thinking about you. But that's not simply ... physical ..." said Lois, picking her words carefully, watching Clark's eyes as she tried to explain. "It's everything. The fact that you love me is probably the most arousing ..." she stopped, her words cut off by the tears that formed in Clark's eyes.
"Thank you," he whispered, blinking slightly to clear his sight. Lois raised her hand to smooth away the trail left by a tear that had escaped and fallen.
"And I love you. You wouldn't react the way you do if I didn't ..." she said, leaning forward to kiss him, holding him, her hands smoothing over his back to reach his jeans then pulling his sweater up to burrow her hands underneath against the warmth of his skin.
"No, I don't think I would ... it wasn't like this before we started to date ... if anything, it's become more intense as we've become closer," murmured Clark, returning her kisses and feeling her hands on his back. He followed suit, sliding his hands under her pyjama top. The skin of her back was as soft as the silk covering it.
"So let's just ... enjoy it". Lois tugged Clark's sweater up and over his head, letting it fall to the floor some way beneath them, gazing at him with a warm appreciation, the irritations of the day long gone from her mind. She lowered her hands to smooth them over him, shaping the contours of the muscles that moved below his skin as he in turn traced patterns on her back. The warmth of him heated her hands as she ran them down over his stomach, the ripples of his ribcage undulating beneath her fingers, and round to his back. She kneaded gently as she worked her way to the dip in the small of his back; there she mimicked the patterns he was drawing on her, pulling a shudder from him. She smoothed her hands up to follow the shape of his shoulderblades and up to his shoulders, flattening her palms against him as she lowered her head to pattern small kisses over his skin. She bent a little lower to flick out her tongue and lap at the small nubs of his nipples, drawing them out before kissing and nipping at them with her teeth. She soothed the gentle bites with her tongue, warmth pooling inside her as he responded to her touch.
Clark let his head drop over Lois', kissing the top of her head, and moved his hands further up her back. He traced the small indentation where her bra strap had rested during the day, then slid round to smooth his hands over her stomach and up; he let them rest briefly under her breasts, the curve of his thumb and forefinger following her curves as he splayed his hands. He slid his hands up again, slowly, savouring the feel of the soft pillowing, the gentle push of he rnipples against his palms. He began to knead gently, Lois' quiet sighs of encouragement and appreciation building the pressure of his arousal as much as the feel of her did.
Lois drew back slightly, giving him more space to touch her, and began to undo the buttons of her top. Clark moved, trying to slide his hands from her to do the task himself.
"No, don't stop," she murmured "let me do this ..." She slowly pushed each button through its buttonhole, letting the fabric gap eopen a little more with each one, until the top hung loosely open on her. Clark brought his arms together under the top, then spread them out again, taking the silk with them, opening her to his gaze. Lois reached up and slid the top off, letting it fall onto Clark's sweater on the floor. She tucked her arms behind her, resting her hands on Clark's knees to lean back, smiling as she enjoyed the rising heat in his eyes. Clark looked up to her face and smiled back softly, bringing his hands up to rest them on her shoulders. He leaned forward to kiss her, his lips barely touching hers at first, then kissing them in turn, sucking first on her lower lip then the upper before running his tongue across her mouth, sliding it between her opened lips and touching her tongue gently. Lois closed her eyes at his touch, her arousal rising with his; she shifted against him, pushing back on her hands to slide forwards against him.
Clark pulled back slightly, lowering his head to briefly kiss the shadows between her breasts, then raised his head to look back at Lois. A smile played across his mouth at the arousal written on her face, her tongue flicking between her lips, moistening them, her eyes half-closed now. Lois saw him looking at her and smiledruefully.
"I did say you weren't the only one who reacts," she said, sitting up against him again, her hands going to the buttons of his jeans. Clark's hands covered hers.
"If I don't get to open your buttons, you don't get to open mine," he teased in a low voice as he flicked them open, his hands brushing deliberately against Lois' thighs as she sat in his lap. Once the four buttons were free, Lois smoothed back the denim and slid a hand under his briefs, pushing them down a little with the jeans. She wriggled back a short way to push them further down, her hands returning to trace a line over him, spiralling a finger around the hard length of his erection. She laughed softly in delight at the shiver that rippled through him at her touch, her laughter ending on a gasp as Clark slid his hand under the elastic at her waist to cup her.
He leaned forward to kiss her again, his tongue sliding back into her mouth to touch hers. His hand inched over her, slipping for a moment into the damp warmth of her, then back to touch the nub he'd skimmed over as he reached for her. He touched a finger to her briefly, his tongue flicking against hers as he did so. Lois curled her fingers around him, her free hand resting at his hip, and stroked him. Clark repeated the touch with his finger and his tongue, and Lois' fingers clenched in mid-stroke at the sensation ripping through her, from her mouth to the pool of warmth uncoiling inside her. She paused, waiting for him to repeat the touch again, then stroking him firmly once when he did. They set up a pattern of touch and stroke, the cycle getting faster and faster until Clark was simply sliding his hand against her, his tongue lapping against hers as she held him, caressing the tip of his erection with her thumb.
Clark stopped abruptly, and put his arm around her to hold her as he straightened his legs. With his free arm he pushed his jeans down to let them fall from his legs, then gripped Lois' pyjama trousers and pushed them down to fall after his jeans. Lois raised her legs to clasp his hips, freeing him to bring his legs back up to cross them into a sitting position in mid-air. As Lois settled back against him Clark reached down and pulled off his socks and smiled at her.
"I feel pretty stupid wearing nothing but those," he said, amused at his own vanity. Lois laughed, then wriggled to sit closer against him, feeling him hard against her. She tried to lift up, pulling herself up by holding on his shoulders.
"Now ... please," she asked, her arousal undimmed by the brief separation. Clark obliged, guiding himself into her as she sank back over him, her sigh of contentment edged with the promise in their arousal. "That feels so good ... you feel so good."
Clark smiled. "I do my best," he said, rocking his hips against her. "How's that?" he teased.
"Incendiary ..." Lois moaned softly as he trailed kisses along her jaw to her ear, then down her neck, sucking gently at the skin at the base of her neck. "Cut that out, or I'll have to wear scarves for the rest of the week ... or steal your turtlenecks," protested Lois weakly. Clark laughed, the sound muffled against her neck as he kissed the small mark he'd made. Lois retaliated, sliding her hand between them, circling the base of his erection and stroking around it, smiling as she felt his breathing grow slightly more erratic and harsh at her touch. He thrust a little further into her until she could feel herself as well as him against her hand.
"Two can play at this ..." he said, circling his hips against her, "... if you keep your hand there I won't have to do much more work, will I?" Clark smiled as the thought sank in and Lois gasped softly, both at the thought and the sensation as he moved against her. She smiled and moved her hand upwards.
"Perhaps not ... too much, too fast ... maybe later," she promised, arching against Clark as he thrust further into her, closing the space left between them by her hand. She closed her eyes, enjoying the freedom of floating in mid-air; the bliss of feeling nothing but Clark next to her, the warmth of his skin under her hands and thighs; the feel of him against her and inside her; the soft scent of him. Sliding her hands back up to his shoulders she began to move against him, reinforcing the rhythm he'd started. She kneaded the muscles under her hands; massaging then smoothing as she rocked against him taking him further into her. Clark increased the pressure of his thrusts into her as the feel and scent of her surrounding snapped his tenuous grasp on control. The increasing speed and pressure rapidly sent Lois' control tumbling after his, shuddering against and around him as she threw her head back, arching against him, gripping his shoulders. The clench of her around Clark, a velvet glove circling him, had him groaning her name as he urgently thrust into her a final time in a blinding completion.
Lois blinked her eyes open slowly, gasping as she fought to regain breath, collapsed against Clark's chest which rose and fell against her in a similar effort. He rested his head against hers. She looked up at him, her mouth a bruised red where she'd bitten her lips, a soft flush covering her face. Clark lowered his mouth to kiss her, placing soft feather-light kisses against the swollen lips, soothing them. "One of these days, you're going to bite right through the skin," he whispered in a soft amusement.
"I hope so," smiled Lois. Clark looked at her, his eyebrow raised in query. "Think about it ... it relates to the intensity of what I'm feeling," she rocked once against him, feeling him stir inside her again, "and I what I can feel is you ... us." Clark smiled again.
"It'll be interesting to watch you explain to Perry why your lips are permanently split ... and you can't cover them up with a scarf or one of my turtlenecks," he teased "I think I'd better try to remember to kiss you ... then you can bite me. That shouldn't show." Lois laughed as she leant forward, testing his theory with a gentle bite.
Lois stretched again, arching her arms out in front of her, absently watching the flames in the grate. A couple of the logs had caught well and were blazing, her legs feeling the warmth. She smiled. She'd bitten her lip on a couple of occasions when they'd got too carried away for Clark to remember, but generally his suggestion seemed to work. Fortunately. She wasn't sure how many times she could claim she'd bumped into a locker door at the gym ...
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Uploaded: 11 February 1997
Written: December 1995
See index page for disclaimer and copyright acknowledgements. This story, however, is my copyright and is not to be distributed without my permission.