This is dedicated to duskwillow. ♥
Lois stares out the window of the plane as it descends towards the runway, the lights of Metropolis twinkling in the distance, welcoming her home. There are three things she's looking forward to once she gets into the city: a cappuccino from Starbucks, catching up with her cousin, and, more shamefully, seeing Clark Kent's face. Apparently a month in Kenya has driven her crazy.
When she left Metropolis Lois had been convinced she was mostly over Clark. She'd even been on a few dates with other men, the last of whom she let kiss her. But it only took a few days away for her to realize that her favorite thing about the kiss had been the aftermath: flowers arriving on her desk the next day and the fleeting look of horrified jealousy on Clark's face, which turned quickly into a forced smile, and then, an hilariously high pitched, casual enquiry as to who the flowers were from.
"James," Lois said dreamily. "He's a human rights lawyer. And a very good kisser."
Clark's jaw was clenched and he wasn't blinking. "That's good," he said in a tight voice.
"You seeing anyone special, Clark?" she asked, smiling at him.
It took him several seconds to respond. "No."
"Well I'm sure she's out there somewhere," Lois said breezily, walking past him and out of the office despite having nowhere else to go. It was too perfect a moment for Lois to let it be ruined by sticking around.
There had been a time when Lois thought she and Clark would get together, a time when she'd thought he felt the same way about her as she felt about him, but she'd been wrong about that. She'd gotten her heart broken and she couldn't even be pissed at him about it because, technically, he'd not done anything wrong. He'd just been his typical, big-hearted self, and Lois must have been nuts to think she stood a chance against his childhood sweetheart.
So she'd spent the last year working her butt off and forcing herself not to think (much) about him, but that didn't mean she didn't sometimes get a kick out of winding him up. He might love another woman but dammit, he let Lois think Lana was his past. He let Lois think she might be his future. So yes, some revenge was in order.
It's fun driving Clark crazy. Leaning towards him whilst wearing a low cut blouse. Dropping pencils on the floor and bending over to pick them up, ass pointed in Clark's direction. Casual touching, lingering eye contact, sexual innuendo shoehorned into the conversation whenever humanly possible.
Clark is a drooling mess now, and Lois has to admit it to herself - she can't wait to pick up where she left off. He may never love her but she's going to make sure he wants to fuck her more than he's ever wanted to fuck anyone else.
"Clark!" Lois calls out, her smile totally genuine, and the look of utter delight on his face makes her stomach do flip flops.
"Lois," he says, striding towards her, pulling her into an embrace. "I missed you."
"You too," she replies, pushing her breasts against his chest and closing her eyes. She never wants to be away from him for a whole month, ever again. She never wants to let go of him.
Is he smelling her hair?
"Hey Lois!" Jimmy shouts. "Good to have you back!"
She can't let go of him and Clark doesn't seem to be very interested in letting go of her either. Even though they're in the office and people are looking at them and it's completely unprofessional and oh crap, that's Perry White standing behind Clark looking at them with one raised eyebrow.
"God you feel good," Clark whispers, but then Perry clears his throat and Clark lets go of Lois, head jerking around.
"Morning Mr Kent. Morning Ms Lane. Get to work."
Clark nods quickly. "Yes sir."
She "feels good"? Did Clark just tell Lois she feels good?
Her plan really is working.
They lunch together and Lois flirts with Clark more than ever.
"Is it good to be home?"
"It really is," she replies, staring into his eyes. "We should celebrate tonight."
He doesn't break eye contact, he just says, "Okay," in a voice that suggests he knows exactly how he'd like them to celebrate.
"What do you feel like doing?"
His eyes flit from her face to her breasts then back again, almost imperceptibly. "Whatever you want."
"I have a bottle of champagne at my place. Would you like to share it with me?"
Lois buys a bottle of champagne on her way home and spends two hours grooming herself in preparation for Clark's arrival.
They sit together on Lois's couch, knees touching, sipping champagne, giggling, staring at each other.
Is this finally happening?
When she puts her glass down on the coffee table, Clark sets his down too, then he takes her hand.
"You have no idea how much I missed you," he tells her softly.
She thinks her heart just stopped beating. She can't breathe. He looks so good, smells so good, feels so...
It wasn't planned, and if someone had told her that Clark telling her he missed her was all that was needed for Lois to lose her self control and, quite literally, pounce on the man, she'd have told them they were high. But here she is, her arms wound tightly around his neck, straddling him, her groin pressed against his, her tongue in his mouth.
And Clark is not complaining. He's kissing her back and grinding against her and pulling off her top, undoing her bra, flinging aside his own t-shirt, and they're both completely naked within two minutes. He's inside her within five minutes. Lois is having the noisiest, most intense orgasm of her life within seven minutes.
Clark is asleep in her bed, his arms wrapped around her, within twenty minutes.
They're married within six months.