rolling on the ashes

Reccing Notes: The continuation to burned beyond recognition, where Chloe does not insist on flannel nightgowns. I think she's really outdone herself here. Equal parts IC Chloe and Davis voice, fluffyangst on the run, and an affirmation of life.

by nonky at her livejournal
1912 words, m/nc-17, post-beast

Every muscle he had bunched, contracted, tried to crunch him small enough to fit in her pocket and sleep spooned around her ear with golden hair as his blanket. He could turn into mini Beast and kill bugs in her apartment.

Chloe spent most of two days very quietly sitting in the passenger seat, letting him drive because he told her it relaxed him. She probably knew it was more complicated than that – Davis considered himself a reasonably intellectual man when he wasn't being a murderous beast. She'd never talked down to him or flaunted what she'd gotten in the cerebral department. She wasn't unfeeling of his . . . feelings.

And yes, she'd seduced him into letting her give up her entire life and everyone she knew, but he thought the road trip would be good for her, too. They'd get ice cream in all the states they passed through, and visit local museums. They'd see giant plaster sculptures of bread-basket type icons. Maybe a giant bread-basket. They could have some good times making fun of that. He was resolved not to assume any kind of physical relationship because they'd had sex once.

Which was why he startled to find her hand on his thigh. She'd touched him; lots of rubbing, massaging, lingering times meant to soothe the urge to mash living humans into concentrated blood orange juice. She'd hugged him even before they knew his sanity depended upon it, so the touch wasn't irrational or extraordinary.

Except he was FUCKING driving, and she had to know touching there was code for FUCKING, and he had enough trouble not falling on his face and sobbing when a song came on the radio about being a man not good enough for his woman, so it was pretty FUCKING inconsiderate of such a beautiful, caring, wonderful angel to just-

Davis didn't remember pulling over, unclasping his responsibly fastened seat belt, or setting on her like a werewolf. He didn't have that problem, specifically, nor had The Beast slipped out. He was exactly himself, which mean he had sliced the wheel sharply right, probably chewed out of his seat belt and dragged her until her knees were in his armpits. Chloe's mouth let go with a little kissing noise he adored.

“Jesus, Chloe,” he mumbled, looking down at how she was wedged behind the gear shift. “I'm sorry. You just can't . . . “

He had to swallow, hard, because he had never really told her she couldn't do something. He had tried to make her feel warm and fuzzy about her engagement to another man. He had babbled all sorts of nonsense to keep her looking at him. When he ran into her at the hospital he'd surged with glee that she was there. It wasn't right to be so delighted she or someone near her needed medical attention. Later, when it was her new husband recovering from wounds The Beast had inflicted, it was just sick.

“Okay, I'm sorry,” Chloe murmured, her eyes glowing with humour. She glanced at the mechanism next to her and fingered the knob. “Um, do you think you could pull me all the way over to your side so I can get out of this?”

Maybe she was only holding it so they didn't slip into reverse and start rolling, but Davis could sense her hand wrapping around that thing. He'd never been a car guy. No money when he was younger meant he'd been happy to have something reliable with wheels. But he was starting to get how you could love a woman because she loved your car.

He helped her to sit in his lap, her knees around his legs. It was the only way to get her out of the entanglement. Her face turned to look down and he blushed. His body apparently included Chloe as a missing limb, one that it wanted to reattach.

“I didn't mean to freak you out. I just thought we might find a hotel and relax for a while. We've been making good time. No one is going to recognize you by now. And your arm,” she sighed, “Every time you turn the wheel or shift, it moves, and the muscles all get outlined.”

Davis didn't know what to say. He should remind her they were in several world's worth of trouble and needed to keep running. He should help her back to her own seat and remind her to buckle herself in. Then the whole lonely orphan, finally found someone, don't screw it up, Davis, pressure twitched, and his body flexed. Every muscle he had bunched, contracted, tried to crunch him small enough to fit in her pocket and sleep spooned around her ear with golden hair as his blanket. He could turn into mini Beast and kill bugs in her apartment.

He wasn't getting oxygen to his brain, Davis knew it. He was expected to say something to her idea and he didn't remember English. He was going to have to pantomime desperate, or relearn nodding.

Chloe had put her palms on his chest, enthralled as she notched him a little bit past shame. He'd never been unable to find a girl who liked him well enough to sleep with him. He wasn't this terribly undersexed. She blinked, flinging her head back and pushing her breasts closer to him.

I can be a good slut, he thought. Maybe I always was and never paid attention to it. Good to know I'm a huge whore without any sense of romance or capacity for patience. Self-knowledge is power. At least a few of the foster homes were Catholic, almost, and I've heard that helps.

“I've never been a biter,” she told him, undulating on top of him like some goddess bestowing favours. “It's frankly disturbing how much I look at your neck. And I like that you're gentle, but if you're going to be gentle with me all the time we need to have more sex to meet my groping requirement.”

Davis knocked the back of his head into the seat, reminding himself that he was gentle because she was sweet, deserving and intimidatingly small. One slip from big, square indestructible hands and she'd have broken bones. He was having trouble remembering his hands were the problem, since hers were down on his waist. Chloe opened his belt and slinked down to fit with his legs under the steering wheel.

“Okay, you said something about biting and I'm sure this isn't the place, either,” he mumbled. He could reach her shoulders and try to pull but she'd hit her head down there and he couldn't take her to a hospital. Maybe Chloe being little was just his problem. She hummed suggestively as his zipper lowered. She seemed to be doing great.

“Chloe? We don't have a lot of privacy here. We'll go to a hotel. It will be nice. Oh, damn it!”

She had him exposed, his hard-on hot in her grasp. Davis slumped down in the seat and flicked off the lights. Chloe always won, and she made sure he won, too.

They'd been driving at night, during the hours her friends would be able to look for them. They stopped at noon and checked into the nearest place with a bed and shower. It had been two days and one shower each since the first time they made love. The first day on the run had drained the euphoria of freedom, and they slept without undressing. They had to have washed each other off, but Davis felt as connected to her as that initial instant of contact.

“I don't know how much time we'll have or if we'll get away,” Chloe told him, stroking her palms down gently. “You're beautiful. You make me feel beautiful. You deserve to have someone who cares for you.”

She could talk him into anything. Davis tried not to pant or whimper as her hands worked him slowly. He moved his legs wider and she ducked up to place a wet kiss on the side of his cock. She arched further into his lap and put both hands high on his thighs.

“Davis, this is the non-crazy part of who we are together. I'm not going to pretend it's easy, or as simple as our bodies, but I can't get at your soul the same way. I want you.”

She stared into his eyes, pretty face soft and loving. He wanted it to be true. Chloe was careful with words. She never promised more than she could give. Hypnotized, he nodded, his fingers sliding easily into her bright hair.

She pushed his t-shirt up and took him delicately into her mouth. Gnawing arousal blazed through his torso. He'd read books about this all-encompassing woman who sounded more magical than human. He'd never thought it would happen to him, or even appeal. Chloe's hot breath surrounded him, drifted around his flesh like the hot fog in his mind.

Her tongue flicked at his head, shaping him as her hand wrapped lower on his shaft. Chloe pumped her fingers surely. She let out a muffled noise and moved her mouth away. Davis forced his eyes open, staring down at her. She licked her lips slowly, tipped his cock up straight, and bit the thin skin carefully. Her slick teeth ran over him, gathering a mouthful as she tipped her chin. Her lips plumped as she sucked. Blood flow stopped to the inessential majority of his body.

She released him and took a deep breath, positioning them so she could move her head and shoulders forward as her mouth drew on him strongly. One of his hands fumbled from her hair and Davis closed it around her free hand. She encouraged him with moans and sighs, whipping her tongue expertly as he pulsed harder.

He had moments – not blackouts – where it didn't seem possible he had anyone, let alone Chloe. Davis leaned back into the seat and let himself wonder if he wasn't dreaming his salvation in an alley somewhere. Perhaps reality had broken him. But there was no imagining how she edged closer, climbing up more into his lap as he fought the motion in his hips. Her hands tightened, anchored him, and he came with a harsh bark of sound.

He supposed there was nothing left to be shy about, but he looked out the window as she licked him clean. Davis helped her climb back up on the seat and stuffed himself back into his jeans before holding her. Chloe nuzzled his face, moved in to kiss him, and redirected at the last second to his cheek. Chloe Sullivan, she killed, she loved, she lied, she forgave and she swallowed; getting to know her was an altered state.

“You know, this doesn't count as road head,” she said happily. “You pulled over.”

“I have crazy ideas about not rolling vehicles,” he explained.

“That's a weird hang-up, but I'll tolerate it.”

Chloe climbed over to her own seat and they buckled in securely. She watched him start the engine and turn the lights on. Davis hesitated and glanced at her suspiciously.

“You're, uh, going to warn me before you try something like that again, right,” he asked. “That was a lot of fun, but I've never even made out in a car, so you'll have to give me a few seconds to not kill us in a fiery, explosive crash.”

Her smile held more than a hint of mischief, but she nodded agreeably. Her hand covered his on the gearshift and tickled his thumb. Davis chuckled under his breath, accepting his new fate. He'd let her take care of him, and he was going to be saved and then some. Other than some safety concerns, he wouldn't argue.

He hadn't really been using his soul for anything, and Chloe would return it better than new.


You. yes you. Go fangirl her! XD