Disclaimer: Do not own Smallville
Summary: First date. First kiss. First morning - after.
Author Note: This is pretty different from my usual writing style but i had fun writing it. This isn't proof read so there probably will be some mistakes. So hope you like and please do tell me what you think.


Firsts


First date.


Clark's truck had broken down on the way to Lois's apartment. He had been late. Lois had smiled, punched him and said, 'Being on time never was one of your good qualities Smallville'. She had seemed surprised when he had brandished the bouquet of white chrysanthemums but she had accepted them with a whole hearted sniff and had declared them, 'simply smell-tastic'. He had grinned.

He had taken her to the local fun fair and brought her pink and blue candyfloss. It had rained, they got soaked. He expected for the horrified shriek and her running for cover. But she had laughed long and loud and tried to catch raindrops on the tip of her tongue. She had looked beautiful and he told her so. She had blushed and swatted at his arm. He had dodged out the way and proclaimed her beautiful again. She had blushed even darker and said, 'Thank you, you pansy'. He fluttered his eyelashes at her.

He shot two yellow plastic ducks in a row and won her a soft toy panda. She shot five and won him an oversized toy giraffe. She had smirked, said, 'Well we can see who's the man in this relationship' before making him carry both the giraffe and panda. He poked his tongue out at her and stole some of her candy floss. He had run away laughing, with her chasing him.

They had gone on the Ferris Wheel. Lois had leaned forward in the cart; eagerly taking in the landscaping views surrounding them. He had leant back as far as he could go and gripped her hand in a death grip, the other clutching the silver bar. She had rubbed her thumb over his hand comfortingly, amusement dancing over her features. The ride had experienced, 'technical difficulties' when they hit the top. They were stuck there for half an hour, the cart swaying back and forth in the wind. Clark had thrown up five minutes in. He had leant over the side of the cart and heaved. She had rubbed his back in soothing circular motions, handing him a bottle of water, and said, 'You even throw up like a girl'. He had smiled and then threw up again when the cart gave a particular vicious swing.

He had walked her back home, holding her hand the entire way. They had shuffled around like a couple of high school teenagers on their first date – cheeks red from embarrassment and half finished sentences. She had awkwardly punched him and thanked him for an awesome time. He had stuttered his way through, 'I had an awesome time too'. They had both smiled shyly at each other, before he had leant down and softly brushed his lips on her cheek. He had walked away after she had waved goodbye from her doorstep.

It had been perfect.


First kiss.


He had leant his head to the right and she had leant her head to the left, the sun was setting in the background. Their faces inched closer. His eyes had fluttered closed; his lips puckered awaiting the kiss. She has sneezed, hand instinctively covering her mouth. He had recoiled from the sudden noise and the blow to his face from her hand. They were silent for a few minutes staring at each other with a, 'what the hell just happened?' look before they burst out in uncontrollable laughter simultaneously. She had wiped tears from her eyes and said, 'Let's try that again shall we'. He had nodded, controlling the urge to laugh.

He had closed his eyes and leant to the right. She had closed her eyes and leant to the right. They had bumped heads. She had muttered an expletive, scowled, and had rubbed her head; soothing the pain. He hadn't known whether to laugh again or join her in exclaiming expletives. He had opted for the laughter and a shrill giggle escaped from him. He had clapped a hand on his mouth, eyes widening at the noise that had come from it. She had gently elbowed him, shoulder shaking with laugher and said, 'Manly aren't you Smallville'. He had rolled his eyes and elbowed her back.

He had tilted his head forward, stroked her cheek tenderly and had slowly enveloped her lips. She had wrapped her hands around his neck – fingers lightly brushing his hair - and deepened the kiss. His tongue had slid against hers. She had tasted faintly of lasagne and strawberries; the dinner he had cooked for her earlier. Her nose had nudged his softly. Her tongue had licked his lips, before they drew back, breathing heavily. She had smiled, slow and long, fingers quietly touching her lips and said, 'Third times a charm right?'. He had grinned bashfully, and initiated another kiss.

It had been perfect.


First morning – after.


He had woken up, eyes wincing to the rays of sunlight flittering on his face and had languidly stretched his aching legs and arms working the kinks out of them. He had rolled over to the side, to lay a kiss on her forehead, but he had rolled right of the bed landing in a bundle on the floor. She wasn't there. That's when he had smelt the familiar tang of burning. He had pulled on his pair of boxers before padding out to the kitchen. She had been standing at the stove, flipping a pancake and trying to catch it with her pan. She had missed and the pancake landed on the stove fire where it promptly went up in small flames. She had dropped the pan and had started to blow hurriedly at the pancake but this had only caused the flames to go higher and hotter. She yelped and had rushed to the sink and cupped her hands under the tap, valiantly trying to put out the fire. He had thought that he wouldn't mind waking up to this scenario every morning for the rest of his life. She had suddenly swivelled her head towards where he was standing and said, 'Smallville help!'. He had chuckled helplessly.

He had blown out the fire and had proceeded to cook the rest of the pancakes. She had set the table, laying the plates and filling the cups with 'freshly squeezed' orange juice to the brim. She had walked behind him, his red plaid shirt covering her modestly. She had stood on tip toes and coiled her arms around his waist, placing a chaste kiss to his cheek, and said, 'You do realize, you're now the wife?'. He had snorted and shoved a strip of pancake into her mouth.

They had sat down at the table – at opposite ends – her legs sitting on his lap underneath the table. They had eaten burnt toast, burnt pancakes – apart from the one batch that he had cooked - and burnt eggs. He had had to drink two cartons of orange juice to swallow the food down. She had waited till he finished his breakfast before dumping her own. She had grinned cheekily at him, the indignant shouts dying on his throat. He had growled to himself, still tasting the remains of Lois's breakfast in his mouth. He had glared at her she ate his perfectly made pancakes and finished it off with a bowl of Coco Pops. She had just moaned appreciatively, and winked while she wolfed down another spoon full of Coco Pops. He had continued glaring. She had come over then, sat on his lap and had kissed him. She mouthed light kisses up his jaw line before she had leaned into his ear and said, 'You are so whipped Smallville'. He had made a noise of denial and had rolled his hips forward.

It had been perfect.


Clark couldn't wait for the seconds.