Nightmare -- Part 4
"You're lying," she said resolutely. "I would *never* act like that for a story. It sounds more like one of your crazy fantasies." She ran a hand through her hair agitatedly.

"I know," Clark said quickly. "That's why I was so confused. And you can believe whatever you want. I am telling the truth, Lois. You don’t have to believe me, but I knew you wouldn't act like that for a story, so that's why I was so taken aback."

"But really, I brought you dinner? And I *served* it to you?"

"I told you, Lois. You completely threw me for a loop. I had no idea what to do." He took a deep breath and watched the expressions on Lois's face. She didn’t believe him, and made no secret of that fact. Well, if she didn't believe him now, she would never believe the rest of what happened. He was starting to wonder if he was imagining it himself. "So I helped you serve dinner and we sat down to eat."

“Okay,” she said softly. “Clark, I wouldn’t have done that.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t have done that.”

"I know! That's why I thought something was wrong! I *do* know you, and that's why I was so scared. I knew you wouldn't seduce me like that for a story."

"Yet you're telling me I did." She ran a nervous hand through her hair.

"No, I'm not saying that." He took another deep breath before he continued. "That's why I was so reluctant to believe what you told me last night."

"What do you mean?"

"I reluctantly agreed to eat the dinner you brought, but I was wary the entire time. I wasn't sure what you were up to, and I didn't want you to take advantage of *me*."

"How could I take advantage of you? You're Superman." She stood there emotionless, eyes fixed with his.

Her words felt like daggers through his heart. Yes, he was Superman, but he was still a man. He could overpower anyone physically, but emotionally, he was as vulnerable as any man, and right now, his heart was breaking. Lois's words were more painful than any kryptonite exposure.

He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The pressure was building up, making his head feel like it was going to explode. He was too trusting, too accepting. Too stupid. "You knew how much I loved you, how I would do anything for you. I thought you would use that to your advantage to get something, anything, from me. You know I'd do anything for you." He took a deep breath and wiped his eyes.

"Chinese food?" she said, changing the subject stupidly, purposefully ignoring everything he had said. His words hurt her too badly. Love. Yeah right.

Without saying a word, Clark walked over to the refrigerator and opened it. On the top shelf, there were five white cartons with Chinese characters written on them. Chinese food.

“Oh,” she said softly.

He tried to get the conversation back on track. "Lois, I didn't want to believe you were there to seduce me for the story."

"I don’t believe it either," she repeated for what seemed like the fifth time.

He shrugged, unsure of how to continue. She obviously didn't believe him now, and probably never would.

"So why don’t you tell me what happened next? We sat down to eat, and," she trailed off, coaxing him to continue.

Clark looked at her, surprised she actually wanted to hear more. "Well, the food was really good, so we ate almost in complete silence." He looked at her, unsure if he should tell her what had happened the rest of the night. "And as we ate, you sort of, um, played footsie with me."

"I WHAT?"

He knew she wouldn’t believe it. "Somehow, as we were eating, you had slipped both of your shoes off and . . ."

**********

"Lois! What are you doing?" Clark jumped almost out of his chair. That was her foot. Against his ankle! He dropped his chopsticks and let the piece of chicken that had been nearly in his mouth drop onto the plate.

She looked up at him with an innocence he had never seen. Yet she wasn’t innocent at all. A piece of sweet and sour pork dangled from her chopsticks and she slowly licked her lips before the piece of meat entered her waiting mouth.

Clark shivered involuntarily. God, why was she doing this to him?

She slowly chewed her food, obviously ignoring his question, and made a show of deliberately licking away a tiny drop of sauce from the corner of her lip.

“Lois,” he breathed. “What are you doing?” He wasn’t sure if the words made it out of his mouth. His heart beat erratically, and his mouth felt like it was full of cotton. It was like she was begging him to kiss her, hoping he would take that small bit of sauce from her lips.

Did he dare?

Her foot slowly traveled up his leg and at last rested between his thighs. Clark pushed his chair back and stood up. This was getting way too personal. What did she want from him? If she didn't want his story, maybe she wanted him.

Through rough, dry lips, Clark managed to croak, "Really, Lois, what are you doing?" Besides torturing him.

She blinked quickly as if to think about what he had asked her. When she closed her eyes, Clark couldn't help but stare at her long, luscious eyelashes. Was he wrong? Could she be seducing him? Everything she was doing seemed so deliberate.

"What do you mean? What am I doing?" She stood up and took a few steps towards him. He couldn’t bring himself to take another step back, so she reached out a hand, and slowly teased his shirt and worked her hand down his chest. Their eyes met, and she grinned coquettishly. "This?" she purred.

Clark gulped audibly. "Yes," he managed to whisper.

He was overcome by the intense desire to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. Her pouty lips were so moist, so inviting; he wanted to taste them so badly, if only for a split second.

He took a step away from her, trying to clear his mind. Thinking was impossible when her hands were touching him. Her deliberate motions drove him crazy when she let her hands softly trail against his shoulders and chest . . .

She frowned in protest when he stepped away. "Clark, what are you doing? Can't you see I'm trying to seduce you?"

He did a double take. "What?"

"Seduce you. Now get back here so I can do it properly." She took a step towards him, and he stepped back again.

"Wha-wha- why?" he sputtered. Here was the woman of his dreams standing before him, telling him that she was trying to seduce him. And he had the audacity to question her motives.

She blinked, and stared into his eyes. "Because I realized today . . ."

When she trailed off, Clark jumped in, "Realized what?" The tension was killing him.

The corners of her mouth turned up into a smile, and he knew she was enjoying every moment. She averted her eyes and looked at the ground before she said, "That I think you are the most handsome, most generous, most wonderful man I know." She took a deep breath and continued, "And I think you feel the same way about me."

"How? How did that happen?" She had thrown herself at Superman, but she had never come on to him this obviously. It was him, Clark, not him, Superman, who Lois was throwing herself at now.

"Are you saying you *don't* feel the same way about me?" Her shoulders visibly sunk.

He had hurt her. "No, no, of course I feel the same way." He took a deep breath, almost knowing he would regret what he was about to tell her. "Lois, I've loved you since the moment I saw you when you came into Perry's office during my interview." Had he just made the biggest mistake of his life?

She smiled slightly. "I love you, too, Clark."

"You love me?" He wanted to do barrel rolls in the sky. “How did you? When did you? Why?”

Lois shrugged. "I have no idea. I think it was something that had built up for so long; I guess it finally hit a crescendo and exploded in my heart finally letting me see my true feelings."

"What about Superman?" Superman. He always had to bring up Superman. Why couldn’t he enjoy the knowledge that Lois loved him even for a second?

Lois shook her head. "Superman who? It's *you* I want. Clark. My friend. My partner." She reached out to touch him again.

Clark took another step back. He was great until she said 'partner'. He probably would regret it for the rest of his life, but he said, "Go home, Lois."

She put both hands on his chest and moved her face so close he could feel her hot breath against his skin. Her lower lip jutted out into a sassy pout, and she whispered, “You don’t really want me to go, do you?”

He shivered when he felt her warm breath against his cheek. God, he wished he could tell her to stay. He wanted her so badly.

"Clark," she whispered into his ear.

"Lois," he answered in a voice so soft, he couldn’t believe Lois could hear it. Their lips were lips mere millimeters apart. He ached to feel her lips against his.

"You don't really want me to leave, do you?" she repeated.

He shook his head slowly, deliberately. What he really wanted to do was kiss her. Why couldn’t she love him? It was what he had wanted for oh so long, needed oh so badly. For once in his life, he had to forget his inhibitions, to let his instincts take over. Lois had told him she loved him, and he had told her how much he loved her. They should raise the roof in celebration. He shouldn't have to question her every motive. They were two people in love. He was filled with a sense of euphoria, unbridled by anything he had ever experienced. "I love you, Lois," he whispered. "I've always loved you."

Lois's lips turned into a grin as she whispered, "I love you, too." She licked her lips quickly and inched ever closer to him. He closed his eyes and waited for her lips to gently touch his.

She tilted her head, and brushed her nose against his before her lips softly brushed against his. After pulling back slightly, she ran her lips against his again, this time letting them linger even longer.

A jolt of electricity soared through his body as he surrendered to the feel of her soft lips against his, to the pure torture created by friction between their lips. He wanted to kiss her harder, more completely. These intensely wonderful tiny kisses weren't enough.

He wrapped his arms around her back, allowing one hand to tangle in her long, silky hair as his other hand ran its way up and down her back.

Clark's head swirled when he felt her cool hand against his stomach. Today, he wasn’t wearing the Suit. He had taken it off, planning to be at home anyway and could change at a moment's notice. Sometimes having a secret identity sucked. He would have to tell her the truth about Superman eventually. He'd do it in the morning, or later this week, or sometime next year. No, he would do it in the morning. All he wanted to do was revel in the feel of her sweet kiss and soft touch. He never wanted their lips to break, and hoped this moment would last forever.

Tonight, he would forget about Superman all together. Just for one night, he wanted to be normal. Right here, right now, he was Clark Kent. And he wanted Lois Lane.

He let his mind focus only on the physical sensations of the kiss, ignoring everything else in the world. This was their first real kiss as two people in love, and he wanted to savor it.

The pleasurable friction of their lips melding together and the shocks sent through his body when she brushed her nose against his were the most amazing feeling in the world. He couldn't believe how lucky he was.
Before he knew it, Lois had worked her hand completely under his shirt and was exploring his stomach.

He shivered involuntarily, still not sure how he would be able to cope with all of the new sensations she was giving him.

She pulled away and whispered, "I love you, Clark."

He moaned slightly at the feeling of abandonment when he no longer felt the pressure of her lips against his.

Instead of kissing him again, she reached up and caressed his cheek, saying, "I can't believe I never knew."

"Knew?"

"How right this would feel. How much I've been missing. How much I love you."

"This *does* feel right, Lois. So right." He pulled her hand to his mouth and planted a series of soft kisses on each of her fingers. "I love you, too."

He let go of her hand and leaned down to kiss her again, missing the feeling of her lips against his. He wanted to suck her lips until they could no longer breathe. It had taken so long for them to finally admit their feelings for one another; he wasn't going to miss another second! He laced his hands through her long, silky hair and again lost himself in their kiss.

He needed to sit down. She was so intoxicating. Her kisses. Her caresses.

It was amazing. He was the strongest man in the world, yet one touch from Lois Lane could transform him into a weak puddle of goo. He melted at the feel of her body against his. He was powerless in her presence.

She shivered slightly, and Clark said, "Are you okay?"

"I'd be even more okay if you were closer to me," she whispered. She reached up and put a hand behind his head, gently guiding him towards her mouth to kiss her again.

“Clark, I need you,” she whispered against his cheek. “I need you so badly.”

“Oh, Lois, I need you, too.”

“Let’s take this to the bedroom.”

He swept her into his arms and took the few steps into his room. He wanted her. He needed her. He let his lips capture hers again before he set her down on the bed.

When their kiss broke, Lois whispered, "I love you, Clark."

He grinned at her, saying, "I love you, too." Then he softly put her down on the bed, ready for anything that would happen.

She put her hand on his shirt, and pulled him down on top of her, and then moved her hand to the waistband of his pants. He put his hand on hers, halting her motions. "Oh god, Lois. Wait."

She ignored him completely, and continued to work her hands around the top button of his jeans.

"Wait, Lois, there's something I have to tell you." He sat up slightly and put his hand on top of hers.

She looked up at him quizzically, not moving her hand from his pants. "What is it, Clark," she whispered.

"I'm, I'm . . . Oh god, Lois." This was so hard to say. "I'm . . . a . . . virgin."

"A what?" She abruptly pulled her hand away from his pants and jumped back slightly.

He felt his cheeks reddening. Of course she didn't believe him. How many twenty-seven year old men were virgins? "A virgin," he repeated, almost silently.

Her shocked expression turned into a wide, diabolical grin as she said, "Well, we're just going to have to change that, now aren't we?"


**********

"What?" Lois exclaimed animatedly. "You told me what?"

That was the last straw. She couldn't listen to this insanity any more. Clark Kent sure was a great story teller. Too bad she didn't believe a single word he said. Lies. All lies from a world-class liar.

He was a virgin? Yeah right. Impossible. Okay, maybe not completely impossible. There were some men his age who kept their sacred virginity. Yeah, like priests and monks and really nerdy guys who went to engineering schools in the Midwest and were afraid of girls. Not men like Clark.

"I am . . . was . . . a virgin," he said softly. "Last night was my first time." It had seemed like the right choice to lose his virginity last night, but now he was beginning to wish it had never happened.

"And you expect me to believe that?"

"It was my first time," he repeated. "And it was amazing." It had been the best night of his life. The woman he had loved with all his heart for so long had finally admitted she returned that love. She was the one woman he had been willing to love. For almost thirty years, he had waited for her.

It had been too good to be true.
He whispered, "I can't believe you don't remember." He took a deep breath to calm himself. "Please remember."

Lois sighed. She wished she could remember. Even if she had come to him, she still had a major problem with everything he had told her. "How could you sleep with me without telling me about yourself?"

"About myself?" He had a feeling he knew exactly what she meant, but he wanted to delay the inevitable conflict.

"That you are Superman." She angrily spat the name, her voice filled with absolute contempt. He was a vile, superpowered rodent liar.

He gasped at the shear anger in her voice. "It was a mistake. I was wrong. You're right. I never should have done anything with you before you knew the truth about me."

She narrowed her eyes in anger. How dare he play Mr. Innocent! He had told her the biggest lie in the entire world. In fact, he had a history of lying. She had known him for HOW long as two separate people? He had a secret identity for god’s sake! "Damn right."

"I admit, I was a fool not to tell you about my being Superman before we made love, but . . ." He trailed off, not exactly wanting to complete his sentence.

"But what?" she demanded.

"You said . . ."

**********


Laura "The Yellow Dart" U. (Alicia U. on the archive)

"A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles." -- Christopher Reeve