dovelike | [AU] SV Futureverse

Entry tags:

au,
clark kent

[AU] SV Futureverse

Metropolis Children's Hospital

Days like today are what keep Eirene coming back to this small hospital in the middle of Kansas. Watching a thirteen year old with once-inoperable pancreatic cancer walk down the hallway to her parents, who are standing with the resident cancer specialist and trying to figure out what happened.

Eirene knows and she glances down at her hands with a faint smile.Miracles. One 'twenty year old' volunteer can do more in the weekend mornings she volunteers than the vicious decease still trying to kill a host of other kids on this floor. If she's lucky, she can save another life today, but her energy reserves haven't been replenished by rest in the last few days.

She's settled into a booth at the corner diner not half an hour later, sipping an herbal tea and flipping through the Planet for anything out of the ordinary. For the curious: she looks like any other college student; a Met U sweater, jeans and Birkenstocks.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"So," he starts shyly, leaning a little into her touch and then dropping his head, looking up at her, "I know that wasn't exactly what you wanted; the bed didn't break and I wasn't screaming your name, but I hope it was okay." He's pretty sure it was, but he's also still a little insecure in this department. Confirmation would be nice.

"I think," she murmurs after a whole two seconds of consideration, "that I don't want anyone else touching me like that. You're hired." This is, of course, accompanied by a small grin and possibly her other arm lifting to try and tug him down onto her.

"I guess that makes two successful job interviews today," Clark grins back, allowing her to pull him over, knees straddling her legs and his elbows by her shoulders. "That what you were going for?"

"I guess this does," Eirene manages after another minute of silence, still trying to unscramble her brain, "but only if you were applying for the lover-for-life position." Her eyes are twinkling.

And one hand is sliding down Clark's stomach to cup him through the denim.

"Well," he starts, leaning down to nuzzle her neck, "what other positions were available?"

And then there's her hand pressing against him and he lets out a soft moan, dropping his forehead to her shoulder.

Regenerative capabilities and godhood are two wonderful things. It's how Eirene can unbutton his pants with only a few missed tries and talk at the same time.

"Depends on whether you want the top or the bottom."

It takes a few deep breaths before Clark can answer that.

"I suppose I have to decide how ambitious I am. Some people don't mind starting at the bottom and working their way up; some people like to go straight to the top." He rocks his hips once, sliding more firmly against her hand. "But you're the boss."

Oh, she is, is she? Well, then.

"I think," fingers press forward in response to his hips, palm sliding down slowly and then back up, and a low whimper escapes from her throat, "that working your way up the ladder of success is usually the smartest way to go."

There is a long pause, while she jimmies his zipper down and gently slides her hand in, followed by a soft, lingering kiss.

Whispered: "But I need you inside me, Clark."

He may have been prepared to continue the the metaphor, but her last comment just about cancels out any coherent thought that was still occurring.

"Okay." It's barely a whisper and it might seem like he's wrapped his brain around the current situation, but he doesn't move. Moving, he is at least aware of, would involve her hand going away and at the moment, Clark's body likes it right where it is.

Eirene? Can totally tell by the way he's pressing against her, while the rest of him is still. She knows, mostly, how strong he is, and how much discipline it must be taking not to let himself go and just take her.

Personally, that deserves a reward. In keeping with those thoughts, her fingers slide beneath his boxers as well, and her chest arches up slightly to rub against his.

"Eirene," his voice is hoarse against the skin of her neck, his breath panting heavily into her hair. He can't stop himself from pushing back against her hand, effectively trapping it between their bodies.

"Oh, Tartarus, you're big." She's panting too, and probably didn't mean to say that aloud, but Eirene is honest to a fault at times. Especially when her thumb has a mind of its own and brushes across his tip.

"Wearing too many clothes," the goddess mutters after a few moments, trying to keep her hand still. With about as much success as she'd had with her hips.

Clark has no response to either of the things she's said, because he's to concentrated on remembering how to breathe properly, or see straight with little sparks exploding behind his eyes at that "accidental" touch.

But soon enough, it gets to the point where he, on some base level, realizes she's right: Too many clothes. Reluctantly he moves away from her hand and her, rolling over again onto his back beside her and getting rod of those remaining clothes in record time. With out superspeed, anyway.

That done, he settles himself back on top of her, bringing her legs up around his waist before leaning his head down and capturing her lips with his own.

It's a shock, feeling all of him against her. This has happened once before, but it wasn't quite her Clark, and the dynamic is different. Very different.

He's allowing her to cradle more of his weight, flesh tingling everywhere they touch. In some places, between her legs, for instance, there are fireworks. Eirene can't tell him how damn good he feels, because he's sucking on her tongue...

... so grinding her hips up against his is Plan B.

The feel of her sliding against him, how ready she is, rips another groan out of him from deep in his throat and into her mouth. And Clark, he's decided, is just as ready for this as she is.

He breaks the kiss and then, eyes locked on hers, trails a hand down the length of her body, slipping it between them to make sure he's positioned properly. And then he slowly starts pushing inside her, eyes drifting closed almost immediately.

Eirene remains almost perfectly motionless, only lifting her hips just so in order to aid Clark's efforts. And then she does keep still, adjusting to the feel of him, before her arms reach up to cradle his head against her shoulder.

Quietly, "Always and forever, Kal-El."

And then she begins moving slowly beneath him.

The only response Eirene will get for the moment is a kiss pressed to where her shoulder and neck meet, words failing him.

When she begins to move, however, he does the same, and it doesn't take long for them to find a steady rhythm together, and eventually, a coherent thought is verbalized, whispered hoarsely near her ear.

"God, you feel so good."

It'll be some time before she can formulate a response, because he's stolen the words right out of her throat with his hips, and his hands, and his mouth. Perhaps Clark did say it best, so the blonde beneath him just nods against his shoulder.

Before sinking her teeth lightly into his flesh, the fingers of one hand curling against his own.

The feel of her teeth is met with a particularly hard, off tempo thrust and his hand grips hers almost a little too tightly, another groan muffling into her hair.

And the bed creaks.

If it was Eirene's intention to surprise him, she can consider herself successful.

It wasn't intended to be surprise, just seemed like a good idea at time. Eirene is happy to repeat the bite, however, by gently making her way from Clark's shoulder to his neck in slow, steady nips.

Although, the bed nose will probably produce a giggle somewhere along the way.

"Is there anything else you'd like me to do?" she finally whispers aganist his ear.

Sorry, Eirene, but the only answer you're going to get to that is something completely unintelligible, ending in yet another groan while his hips keep up the new pace.

After a few minutes, he finally lifts his head from her shoulder and kisses his way back to her mouth.

That's answer enough. Eirene's been desperately trying to hold onto her sanity long enough to find out of he wanted her to do something, anything, but the non-verbal response works just as well.

Coherent though is abandoned to the four winds the moment Clark's mouth meets hers, hips twisting upward to increase the pace even further.

Her free hand, the one that's not locked with Clark's, slides up to tangle in his hair.

Clark, if he could, would tell her she's already doing enough - she's here, she still wants him, to be with him. She waited for him.

He doesn't have any trouble keeping up with her again, his hips meeting hers with equal force, the kiss becoming more passionate.

Every whimper, every roll of her hips, every caress of her fingers add up to one thing; how much she loves this man. It doesnt matter anymore that she had to wait for him to outgrow Lana, or make the decision to find out more about his people, or undergo the training that forged him into the man he is now.

Her Clark is still there, the young man who once made a drink for her, and later stole her heart. It is with this thought that Eirene tosses herself into the tornado, and doesnt find herself again until a long time later.

When she is once more shuddering almost violently underneath him, his names, both of them, whispered like a prayer.

Clark isn't far behind her when she climaxes, spilling himself inside her after just a few more deep thrusts into her, hearing his name on her lips. She'll get much the same reaction from him, his face once again buried against her shoulder, whispering her name over and over again before finally collapsing on top of her, breathing heavily against her hair.

And then, very softly, he says something softly that sounds like it could be words, but noting Eirene would be terribly familiar with.

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