Title: A Sketch of Happiness (1/1)
Author: sinecure
Character/Pairing: Chloe/Lex
Rating: Teen
Genre: Romance, drama
Summary: An idyllic day in the life of Chloe and Lex.
Disclaimer: I don't own Smallville.
Author's Notes: Thanks to JennyLD for the beta. Written for the Porn Battle on Dreamwidth. The prompt was 'trace'.

Lex traced his fingers along the curve of Chloe's back, making her shiver, though they were both spent already. Just his skin on hers made her want him. A touch--one that she'd felt so many times before and been indifferent to--was brought alive and made new by this latest aspect of their relationship.

A relationship that'd taken her by surprise, but he'd taken in his usual, unflappable stride. She wondered if he'd ever imagined them here, lying in bed together, back to being... something between friends and lovers.

"That tickles," she said irritably as he settled his palm half on her hip and half on the curve of her ass.

He leaned down, and she felt his lips press lightly to her shoulder blade. "Does it?"

Bemused, she glanced over her shoulder at him. "You're being very touchy feely."

Eyes lifting to hers, he slid his mouth higher up her shoulder. "I have a specific purpose in mind; one that requires you to be... pleasantly relaxed."

"Is that so?" Intrigued, she settled back on her stomach, resting her head on her crossed arms. "Have at it then."

Lex's hand moved lower, down her hip to her thigh. "I intend to."

Biting her lip, she fought a grin, taking note; Lex was insatiable. Leaning her head to the side, she stared at her phone on his nightstand. There was a message waiting for her from Clark, a call Lex hadn't allowed her to take. She'd had to fight not to answer it at first, but Lex's hands and mouth had easily persuaded her.

She sighed, knowing Clark would probably never forgive her for taking Lex as a lover so soon after Lana's death. But grief did horrible things to a person. And wonderful things too. She just wasn't sure which this was. Horrible to Clark and the newly-returned-to-life Lana.

A little wonderful to her.

Lex's lips smoothed over her middle back, then the curve of her ass. "Right here," he declared.

Well, that sounded-- "What?" Trying to roll over, she felt him press down on her legs. He was straddling them, hands spanning her waist. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," he said quietly, and she grew nervous. That tone of voice was one she knew well. She'd heard it too many times before, usually when Lex was about to do something she didn't like, or had already done it.

"Lex, wh--"

"Shh." He traced his hand over the curve of her back again and she shivered. "Hold still."

She wanted to jerk up and roll over, ask him what he was talking about, why he was so focused on her back, but she stilled herself, trusting him. And that surprised her. Scoffing lightly, she told herself it wasn't like he was going to suddenly pull a gun on her and demand answers about Clark, so in this she could trust him.

It'd been months, she realized, and he hadn't asked her one question about Clark, hadn't pushed, hadn't demanded to know anything she wasn't willing to tell him.

She did trust him.

Swallowing, eyes darting around the room in a panic, she calmed when she felt his lips on her back where his hand had been. Uncomfortable with her realization, she half-rolled over, eyeing him. "Lex, what are doing?"

"This, right here." He pressed a finger to a spot on her back. "It's the last place on your body that I haven't kissed."

Brows rising, she stared at him, mystified. "I-- oh. S-- so, why do you need me pleasantly relaxed to do that?" Shoving down the pleasure rising in her, the happiness because he seemed so intent on touching and kissing every inch of her, she ducked her head.

He chuckled, lips settling near the spot he'd picked out. "Because you're ticklish." He pressed his lips lightly to her skin, and she squirmed away, swatting at him.

"Stop," she giggled, but his lips continued to move around, pressing little butterfly kisses along her hip and back, then his teeth nipped, stinging her.

Jerking up, Chloe scooted back as far as the wall behind her would allow, dragging the covers over her naked, shaking body. The dream-- the memories? No, dream. Not real. She wasn't really naked. Lex wasn't with her.

But he was.

"What the hell are you doing? Jesus Christ!" Her heart pounded in her chest, the machines beside her letting everyone in the room know. Several of Lex's scientists glanced her way, but stayed at their equipment. Her eyes darted from Lex standing above her, to the objects in his hand.

The fucking Kryptonite-infused electrodes.

Rubbing her temples, where the electrodes had been moments before, she glared at the gray walls she'd been forced to call home for ten days.

Would Clark ever figure out where she was? Did he care?

A sob rose in her throat, but she didn't let it out, wouldn't give Lex the satisfaction. Bastard.

He stood beside her small bed, face blank, eyes shuttered as they settled on hers. He didn't speak, but his face told her enough. The blank look spoke of lost trust and hurt--something she knew well--but it wasn't aimed at her.

It was about Lana.

"I prefer the nightmares," she bit out, seeing his eyes close down further, and feeling her heart lose some of its strength. He was desperate, and she was... a pawn. Rubbing her fingers over the spot on her back that he'd been so concentrated on, she felt the small bump where he'd put the latest Kryptonite implant.

She was riddled with them now, and no closer to feeling anything but disgust toward him. It had to be killing him that his big plan for getting Lana back wasn't working.

Snickering, she clenched her fists, feeling like a contradiction in emotions. "She'll never want you again, no matter how you manipulate her. And she'll never trust you again either. Not ever."

He valued trust and loyalty to him above nearly everything else. And he knew he didn't have hers, which meant he wouldn't have Lana's. The treatments weren't working.

Never would. He couldn't take a person that despised him and make her feel something for him through dream-manipulation, faked feelings, and Kryptonite. Despite what she felt in the dreams, she didn't feel a thing for him in real life. And her heart didn't hurt for the desperation in him to get someone to love him back. It didn't.

"Again," Lex said coldly, reaching over to jerk her back down on the bed to replace the electrodes.

The sob broke free anyway. "Just stop," she yelled in a panic, jerking her foot free of his tight grip. She didn't want to go back there, back into that idyllic life that wasn't real. This was reality, gray, concrete walls and floors, fluorescent lights, and Lex's cold gaze. This was reality.

Lex's eyes, as dull and unfeeling as the walls and floor, flickered to a man standing a few yards away. "Give her the shot."

"No!" Forcing the next word out, she squeezed her eyes shut and twisted her head to the side, hoping he wouldn't see the tears. Knowing he would. "Please."

But she still felt fingers grip her arm--which looked like a junkie's--and hold it still for the needle. The small pinch was nothing compared to the burning, singeing feeling in her veins, or the world she was going to return to, one she felt a longing for despite herself.

Turning her head to glare at Lex, she jerked her arm free.

Lex bent over and pressed the electrodes to her temples again. A machine whirred to life and they began to glow green. "You don't understand," he told her, pressing them tight. His eyes fastened on hers and she saw the briefest flicker of tenderness. "This was never about Lana."

Her eyes slid shut, releasing her tears as the drug coursed through her.