monsters, sex and other phobias

Reccing Notes: This is a drabble (prompt: mile high) of mine that grew. It needed to be written. Partially because I wanted to see Davis with a Chloe that wasn't lightswitched into the Jimmy relationship.
Post-Vessel, this! Chloe dated Clark instead- which lead to her being relationship paranoid when he didn't get over his Lana-issues. Hence, single Chloe. And some obstacles. Most of S8 till Abyss happened like in the show- Plastique, Prey, Abyss minus the 'prospective' wedding. Clark mind-wiped Chloe and she didn't get those memories back.

So Chloe's on an airplane, trying to get away from her intimacy issues. Tess is trying to get Davis to kill all these people on this plane. Lois is the devil on Chloe's shoulder.

by vagrantdream at her/my journal
3065 words, nc-17, abyss


“If you want the whole truth, it’ll turn me into a sex fiend.”


The plane had hit thirty-seven thousand feet some miles back. Lois would be proud.

“How much of that water—Davis—the…”

Chloe slumped over the men’s sink on Flight 3478, conscious of little more than the breath coming in shirt, hot puffs on the back of her neck and the searing, erratic heat of him inside her.

It was decidedly strange that no one was pounding down the doors yet to find them in this particular compromising position. Chloe’s vision fogged, the mirror image reflecting red eyes. Davis’s arms wrapped a little more forcefully over her waist, like he needed her just a shade closer than humanly possible.

He was many things to her- intense, naively sweet guy who listened and had feelings for her, the guy she always ran away from because there had to be a catch somewhere. And now…He got a mouthful of blond hair in his mouth when he leaned over her, pushed it away from her neck. They needed to find out … “Davis…”

He let her fingers curl around his bigger ones on the sink-top, squeezed lightly. Returning his grip, Chloe let out a breath. She began again… voice faltering as his mouth closed over her shoulder and the real pressure began to build.
Trust me.
Chloe’s knuckles went white on the counter. She actually had desires to fulfill. Given some of them though; they might not get out of here without needing to be carted out.


Three Hours Earlier

Lois had told her that the only person more repressed than she was…was…no one. In comparison to Lois, maybe. Chloe hadn’t ever conducted her most intimate sexual relations on a Ferris wheel, or case and point, or while mile-high like in rock songs, but it did not mean she was stunted.

Chloe had one one-night-stand and a failed pseudo-relationship with Clark in her past. His remnant card-carrying for Lana had burned her, but when they’d finally broken it up she’d moved onto her own life. Focused herself onto her work. She couldn’t handle the dating scene like Lois could. Unfortunately for her, Lois didn’t believe her.

“You don’t get that excuse either. What about dimples?”
Davis had kissed her the first time after they’d effectively determined he wasn’t some crazy-psycho serial killer. Suffice to say; when he stopped enough for her to talk about it, she’d high-tailed out of there, into Lois’s apartment, with a tub of Ben and Jerry’s.
Problem was; she liked Davis too much. Actually having sex was the death-knell of any of her truly good relationships. If he was perfect and then called out another woman’s name…or…

“You realize this is glued-to-your-hip-Davis right? I rest my case. You’re phobic.” Lois had said, then declared she needed a vacation (all cleared with her bosses before hand). She’d handed her a pre-bought ticket with a cattish grin on her face... and Lois was just getting to good at offers Chloe couldn’t refuse. (Lois had been the only one to support it. Clark hadn’t, she didn’t know why.)

After her first half margarita, Chloe effectively determined the life of a high roller wasn’t all that good even if that crushed ice looked like a work of art. Chloe was starting to feel queasy. Maybe she could take a dose of Vicodin so she could actually sleep her vacation away.

Then she saw him. Davis was out of uniform. His face was wet from splashing water over it to stay awake after a long shift… Why in the world would he be on just this flight? Davis had an eerie talent for appearing just when she needed him. But Chloe didn’t believe in coincidence. He’d seen her anyway and…

“Davis?!”

After a little investigation, turned out he was getting sent to receive some award or the other by Lex’s minion Tess Mercer at the Daily Planet in particular. Lois.

But there was no thinking of that when Davis actually looked like he needed someone to lean on. He was very much himself, but crouching across from her he looked drained in the greenish halogen lights.

“You look like you could use some sleep.”

“It’s not on work hours, so...”

“First class seats are better for sleeping.” Chloe petted the seat beside her. “Far be it for me why I ended up with two.”

Maybe it was because she wanted to prove she wasn’t phobic. His eyes still had that searching, needy look she’d seen last time and she’d genuinely missed talking to him. She hugged him hello, and that was normal. She had done that with Clark once upon a time.

“You said you needed space…”

“Don’t be silly, sit down. Save me from myself.” Chloe scooted over to make space of him, noticed his thumb and fore-finger rubbing unconsciously against her shirt when he let her go.

“Margarita?”

Davis shook his head.

“I’ve never seen you drink.” Chloe ventured.

“One of my foster fathers drank.” He said simply. “I saw what it did.” Chloe was at a loss for words besides ‘I’m sorry’. Gabe wouldn’t have won dad of the year but…he’d never been anything more than broken up and caught in himself. Chloe didn’t know the right words to say.

Davis stopped for a moment. “If you want the whole truth, it’ll turn me into a sex fiend.”

“I’m not an assignment for the Star, so it’s all off the record. Even if you join the mile-high club, I won’t take interviews.”

“Paparazzi and personal stalker, all in one, who would have thunk it?” His hick accent was good as hick accents went, and she would’ve been grinning at any other time.
Davis just looked at her in a way that made her temporarily redirect her glance to the cube of ice in his water. Cross her legs back together.

It was disturbing how easy things were with him, how much…he touched her. Davis ended up leaning on her for a little. It almost felt like some part of him was straining toward her, like he needed the contact. He’d missed out on a lot, growing up.

Then, they talked more, or Davis mostly talked and asked her revealing questions while she interjected short bits of dialogue that all seemed to have a double meaning.

So of course, she was miffed when he went to the bathroom and didn’t come out for a half-hour. To be honest about it, she was stewing. Because she was just sitting there with all that emotion he’d put into her and her embarrassing thoughts while he hid. He shouldn’t have had the right.

Chloe pounded on the men’s bathroom door, regardless of the looks she got. He didn’t say go away. But all her outrage melted away at the sight of him.

Davis’s mouth was bleeding. And instead of looking like he was fighting to stay awake this time it looked like he’d been dazed by a hard blow. His eyes were all red around the corners

“Chloe, I can’t leave. I think…something’s happening to me”

“I’m guessing that means you didn’t hurt yourself. “ She didn’t need to ask that or when his illness started happening. He’d told her everything about the second day they’d met.

“They have nurses on this plane. We need to get you one…”

His hand closed over her wrist. Like a cuff. “No nurses.” His eyes bore into hers in panic. “Don’t go.”

So she didn’t. “We should wash that,” she said then, braced her hand on his bicep as she dabbed wadded up tissue at his jaw. He was the paramedic and he didn’t need her to do it, but it made him feel better. It made her feel better.

Chloe finally maneuvered him between her and the sink just so he would be unlikely to fall. Davis was usually the one asking the questions. It had helped her to talk about her memory loss to him, before he’d saved her…

“Davis, how did this start?”

“I just...” His breathing came shallow, and he was making this gasping noise like she imagined a trapped animal would. She had to shake him a little, rub low on his back, feeling a queasy fear in the pit of her stomach. He was so tense she thought he was going to hit the ground like a board.

“Davis…”

She worked a leg between his just in case, hell even if he crushed her. But Davis actually seemed to wake up at that.
“…I’m not going to lose you because we ignore a potent fact. Just trust me.”

His eyes were almost glowing red, and Chloe wondered if maybe it was some genetic condition she hadn’t heard about. None of it ended up mattering because seconds later he pulled her up on the counter and she couldn’t tell what was wrong with his eyes.

Davis was a contradictory vision, blood smeared over the back of his hand, eyes hot and soft. Oh, she wanted him.
“We won’t ignore it.” he whispered. Chloe suspected he was talking about something entirely different than she was.

There was nothing pleading about this Davis; he thought he was dying in the next minute and he had to make up for it somehow. He didn’t warn her with short flickers of his eyes. Just pressed her unsteady hands over his galloping heartbeat. It was easy-this. His mouth ravaged hers and when her head hit the mirror she was a little too stunned to do anything except to let her lips move against his.

About the time her lungs started to feel ready to explode, Davis let off just a little, long enough for her scrambled thoughts to stumble along drunkenly. It wasn’t diabetes…or…

Her arms had somehow gotten a chokehold around his neck. The taste of him was metal-sweet in her mouth. He’d kissed her. She’d done more than accept. She needed him to be alright.

“What we’re doing now can’t cure you.” Chloe’s voice came out frustrated and fearful. “I’d be perfectly up for continuing this at a later time…”

“But it is this.” Davis repeated. That’s how she’d muddledly explained their relationship. A ‘this’ that wasn’t supposed to be ‘this’.

“You could die if you don’t get looked after and we’ll never get the chance….”

“I meant what I said.” Davis smiled when he was probably bleeding out all his vital organs. “I need to get something right before then.”

Chloe just didn’t know what she could say to that. The red on her fingers traced a messy stroke on his jaw. Her face went hot and cold to know where this could go. It felt wrong to run from someone who could be critically ill. Make this reckless decision day.

“O—okay .”

His hands trailed impatiently on the corner of her shirt, tugging it up and over her head. Behind her where the buttons held her like a straight jacket. Davis’s mouth latched right back onto hers, forcing her mouth open even if it was just to breathe.
“Davis…I…”

His fingers went decidedly south, ripping the clasp off her skirt. It was only when they were inside her that her breath had to catch up with her brain. That that particular barrier had been breached and it was never going back to the way it was. He wasn’t touching her, he was touchingtouching her, fingers tracing a delicate wet line that made her gasp. He kissed her deep and slow so the sound softened in her throat. She could almost relax. Safe, Slow. Too slow. He seemed to wait until her eyes squeezed shut. More, a second finger, a third… and then she saw his eyes sinuously, frighteningly encouraging, hitting those secret places just she was supposed to know about. God, he wanted to know, didn’t he?
He’s a quiet one isn’t he? Lois had asked. It’s always those.

Someone could walk in at any time. Chloe’s wrists twisted on themselves, buttons popping off the restraining sleeves in a chaotic spray. She could touch him now. So she run a hand along his side- past the sudden, explosive heat of his skin- below- liking the small (not exactly) helpless noises he made when the fumbling brush of her fingers curled around him. Davis bit lightly at her neck. Stopped her hand over the zipper on his jeans. Breathed out slow and convulsively. When she touched him, sometimes, in ways, decidedly less physical than this, it looked as if he could fall apart.

Before she knew it she was on her back, bundled coat awkwardly bunched under her neck. It took just a tad more of frantic tearing and then he was just there, fingers sliding away with a wet sound. There was no time to cross-reference hand and…was that cock size? She just felt warm, and it felt…not painful. A little awkward at first, to take him in, like she was being pulled in places she shouldn’t have been.

But then Davis wasn’t exactly moving and there was something so different about his eyes than the rest of him. They narrowed with a kind of fascinated intensity she had never been able to put into words. She felt completely safe this way. They’d fit. She braced her hands on his arm, pushed up in a small, experimental shift. In a moment nothing became something. He pushed himself into her in a deep desperate movement. Again. Again. Warmth and heat slowly started to spread from the inside of her, wet sauna-like heat under her skin and the soft-rough way he moved.

She found his shoulder by instinct, digging into the soft cloth and hard skin underneath, as her breath just stopped coming for a second. Small explosions warred behind her eyes and she curled her thumbs into his skin, the brunt over now. Maybe this could be easy. She wanted nothing more to go limp but he grasped her hips until her mouth opened to a round, ragged ended oh. And still, it must have been instinct too as she tilted to him in a need to ride some of the tension out. She was gasping for good now, not a clumsy memory from the past, his name wasn’t so very frightening after all.

“Hmmm… love you.” He didn’t say these things lightly. Not once. Part of Chloe could have exploded for the warmth of it. All the other part could think of was more embarrassing things like Closer. Closer. I want to fuck you like an animal. That’s what he felt like he should do. But she needed more.

Chloe pulled up on his arms, teeth scraping against his ear, whispered. It should have been something deliciously dirty. It was not-so-surprisingly not. This was just exactly right. His mouth moved against hers, moist contact, and she tightened her legs around his hips convulsively. He was getting close to something. She couldn’t feel more than the unbearably needy stirrings in her; felt like he was under her skin for good.

He came deeper and yet deeper into her, the smooth tempo falling apart. This was a critical moment. This was the point…Davis shook over her, breath coming out in short exhales, a drowning man surfacing. She was limp, some feeling like a current racing through her. He finished, firm short strokes into her, movements wetly softening under her skin. His arms came around her and she heard Davis in the deafening echo of her heartbeat in her chest.


“This is strange,” Chloe said, once she had herself together enough to do more than curl herself against him in a cooling arrangement of limbs.

“Excuse me?” Davis blinked owlishly at her.

“Your mouth is not bleeding.” Chloe wasn’t Lana; she was painfully aware than her vagina would not save lives.

Davis seemed more like himself, too, but his eyes were still dark and the smile on his mouth was more than a little amused. “It was all there, right?”

“Oh yeah.” Chloe clapped her hand over her mouth, subtle. “But you’re not about to pass out. I saw you. You couldn’t have been messing with me- if you’re just in a temporary remission…”

“Maybe this is one of the times we rely on faith.” Davis’s arm braced under her hair. His eyes were normal, which made decidedly no sense if he had some sort of genetic disorder or eye sensitivity to the light. “I’m different, Chloe.”

Chloe cocked her head, an elusive memory stirring. Different? “You will need to get hydrated, though.” She insisted. “You will, won’t you? We can stop out somewhere in New York, get you checked out…”

“Or you could...” She whacked at his shoulder and somehow he’d wormed her hand under him.

“Umm…hmm. Kiss me.” Davis pressed his lips to hers, shortly, helping her settle one half of her jacket to her back when she forgot she wanted it. He just could have done this from the start. They’d have never left Isis. Would have saved Lois a plane ticket.

They could have made a strange picture, her kneeling on the stale smelling floor, trying to examine him in the men’s bathroom, no less. Davis brushed her hair out of her face and seemed not to even notice he was naked. Not awkward about it. She, on the other hand…

Chloe leaned up to the tap, palmed water across her flushed cheeks. Davis was humming, getting their clothes together and when they sat back down again she knew she was going to hide her face in his chest. Then they were going to talk about feelings some more and she was going to move her Ben and Jerry’s into his refrigerator. She was through with running. The prospect was very pleasant. So pleasant that she didn’t need to look back in the mirror that much.

Then it hit her. Of course! There were two kinds of ice. The kind in his glass had been cubed, perfect if someone wanted to slip the everyday hero some kind of frozen Mickey to cause a scandal or…

She couldn’t imagine anyone who would want to cause Davis harm.

“Hey, beautiful.” He whispered a little roughly, arm coming around her waist. Chloe relaxed into his grip, head leaning back into his shoulder, only-slightly-guiltily appreciating the image.

Chloe looked in mirror again, caught. She swallowed. Watched the condensation drip off it as Davis set the glass of water on the counter.