Title: Pillow Talk

Chapter: The Five Senses

Rating: Strong PG-13 for adult situations

Word Count: 2,085

Spoilers: SR and my own Shadow-verse

Author's Comments: This is totally random and fluffly and pointless and… there is no plot to this what so ever. I know this is very much unlike me as a writer, but hey, Clark just won't let me alone. I've never been really nice to him and he won't leave me alone until I get a few things out into the open. So here's what's up…

I have tons of these vignette moments in my head concerning Clois that I've figured out how to fit together. Like I said, there is no plot here. And I'm serious about that. But all these scenes happen within the few weeks following the fic "After All" in my Shadow-verse series. If you haven't read any of that stuff, sigh, you might get a bit lost, but oh well. And all of these scenes happen in the bedroom. Yeah. That doesn't mean they are all sexy, just that they are bedroom scenes.

This first chapter takes place a week after Lois and Clark get together, two days before Christmas. It is a bit naughty, but nothing too bad. It has not been beta read and it seems everyone that I've used as a beta reader is just too busy. So if you want the job, let me know. I need a beta reader! I have several of these little moments already written and can post rather frequently given there is an interest in this sort of thing. I figured with the angst and torture going on in the Little Secrets world, the fandom could use some fluff. LOL!

The Five Senses (Fri Dec 23)

It's amazing to me the difference one week can make. So many times the changes in my life have come down to the events that happen in the space of a week. It was one week from the time when Lois first discovered my secret, Zod had threatened the Earth, and we had been forced apart. In the space of one week, I returned to Metropolis, was nearly killed by Lex Luthor, and discovered I had a son. And now, in just one week's time, my relationship with Lois has gone from distant co-workers to that of an engaged couple.

Engaged.

Imagine that.

So here we were, lying in bed, completely naked and totally spent from making love. Not a bad way to spend a Friday night, in my opinion. Not a bad way to spend any night in fact, which is why we spent every night this week just like this. There were the occasional times when I was needed elsewhere, but I always came back to her. As if there was any place I'd rather be. I'd waited too long to be here. I wasn't going to waste any more time.

Somehow, I ended up on my stomach with her lying next to me on her side, her fingers tracing little circles all over my back. She had taken a moment to run to the bathroom and grab something to drink. I took the time to stretch and relax into the pillows so much so that when she returned, she managed to snuggle up next to me before I even had a chance to roll over. Well, I could have, but there was something about the way she touched me that made me not want to move an inch. And so I didn't.

Her fingers were feather light as they flitted over my skin. Every now and then she would press her full hand against my back and drag her flattened palm across the small of my back, pushing the covers down in the process until my back side was completely exposed. All sense of modesty was wiped from my brain. I'd wanted her hands on my body for so long that I took great pleasure from her loving caresses. It felt wonderful. It felt more than slightly naughty. And I never wanted her to stop.

I turned my head to look over at her and slipped one of my legs over and between hers, making our position that much more intimate. She hummed thoughtfully and smiled in that devilish way that always left me breathless. She was up to something, I just didn't know what it was. But, oh boy, did I look forward to finding out. Finding out was the part I looked forward to the most.

The devious look in her eyes darkened, yet she never deviated from her course of action. She just kept stroking my back in lazy circles. I am a very patient man when it comes to the inner workings of Lois Lane's mind, but the more she smiled and the longer she touched me, the less willing I was to wait for an explanation.

"What's that smile for?" I asked, giving in to whatever torment I was sure was in store for me.

"Nothing."

I smirked at her. "It's something, you just don't want to tell me what."

"I'm happy. Aren't I allowed to be happy?" Her fingers continued to boldly roam over my skin.

"Of course. I like it when you're happy."

"Good, cause I am." Her eyes darted over my shoulders and down my back and then returned to my face. She quirked an eyebrow and bit at her bottom lip.

That confirmed it for me. "I know you, Lois. I know that look. I've seen it too many times. You're either up to something or you have a question on the tip of your tongue that you're afraid to ask."

She hummed again and shifted closer to me. "Guess I'm going to have to work on my poker face, huh?"

"So, which is it?"

She sighed and looked at her hand as it traced a path over my shoulders. "Do you feel this?"

"Feel…your fingers on my back?" I frowned. "Yes. Why?"

She then met my eyes with hers and placed her hand flat on my rear end. "How about that?"

I chuckled. "Yes."

"Okay, where is my hand then?"

I squinted at her. "On my bottom. Why?"

She hummed thoughtfully and resumed her caress.

Still at a loss over the questions I asked, "Was that a test to see if I would say the word 'ass', or did you have something else in mind?"

A small laugh escaped from her. "I love it when you swear."

"Are you going to tell me, or do I have to keep guessing?"

"Close your eyes."

Now I was really lost. "What?"

"Close your eyes," she repeated slowly and purposefully.

"Okay," I said, giving in to her request.

"You can't cheat and see through your eye lids, can you?"

I opened my eyes and smirked at her. "What is this all about?"

"Just close your eyes." Her tone was frustrated, so I didn't want to push it anymore.

With my eyes totally closed, I felt her shift away from me slightly and heard the covers rustle, which gave me the impression that she was sitting up more. Then very gently, very delicately, she touched my right shoulder with a finger.

"Where am I touching you?" she asked.

"On my right shoulder."

She hummed again removed her finger only to place it on my left arm near the elbow.

"And now?"

"Left elbow. What are you—"

"Shhhhh."

There was a moment of silence before she touched the crown of my head.

Before she could get to the obvious question, I asked, "Do I have something in my hair?"

"How do you do that?" she groaned.

"Do what?"

"Feel me. How can you feel my touch like that?"

I opened my eyes and rolled over onto my side to better look at her. "Why wouldn't I be able to feel you?"

She was sitting up, just as I had suspected, with a sheet barely coving her. And she looked just as frustrated as the timber in her voice alluded to. "You can walk through fire and not get burned. You can withstand being shot down by a machine gun. You don't feel any of that, and yet you can feel me touch you in softest way I know how."

Everything clicked in my head as I finally understood where she was going with all the touching and the questions. "Oh, I see," I sighed. "You really think I can't feel you."

"I don't see how you can? You don't feel fire or bullets. Why should you feel me?"

"First of all, that's a common misconception about me that I thought you knew about, Lois. Given that you raised Jason and he has a very similar pain tolerance to my own."

"Jason can feel pain."

"So can I, or have you never heard of Kryptonite?"

She smirked at me. "You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do, Lois," I said sitting up. "And you should know from all the time we've spent together as well as the fact that you watched Jason grow up that I can feel things. I feel the fire, but it doesn't burn me. I feel the bullets, but they don't penetrate my skin or really hurt me. I know the difference between a loving touch and a hateful punch. I feel you, Lois." I pulled her close to me and ran my hand up and over her hip towards her breast. To drive home my point, I made sure my hips were aligned with hers to make her that much more aware of the way my body responded to having her close. "Did you think I've been faking this the whole time?"

She exhaled slowly. "I wasn't sure what you felt. Really. Or how you even knew I was touching you."

Wanting to make my point totally clear, I shifted closer to her and kissed her on the mouth. "I can feel your touch. But you know, darling," I murmured as I kissed a path down her neck to the soft space between her breasts. "If you are that worried about it, then you need to remember that there are other senses involved in love making than just touch."

As my mouth wandered over the sensitive skin at the tops of her breasts, the pounding in her chest increased drastically. "I can hear your heartbeat." With my palm lingering over her breast, I pressed my mouth over her beating heart. "I can hear how fast it's fluttering inside your beautiful body." I lightly squeezed her nipple and received a throaty groan of pleasure. "I can hear you sigh and breathe and moan as I touch you, love you."

I kissed the skin of her shoulder and neck, sucking it in just enough that I'd leave a mark behind. "I can taste you – taste your skin." My mouth wandered up to her ear lobe where again I nibbled gently with my teeth. And finally I moved over her mouth, plunging in repeatedly with my tongue as my desire for her increased. "I can taste the sweetness of your breath," I mumbled through a deep kiss.

She was pulling on me now, cradling my body between her thighs. I broke away to look down at her with hungry eyes. Even in the dim moon light, I could see that her hair was wild across the pillows and her skin was pink with arousal. "I can see you. Oh, God, Lois. You have no idea how extraordinary you are. What the sight of your naked body underneath mine does to me."

With a tug on my shoulders, she held me to her and kissed me as deeply and as passionately as I had been kissing her. She writhed beneath me, wrapping her legs around me and grinding her hips in the exact way that drove me out of my mind. Her body was totally open to me, begging me for release.

"And your smell." I growled, devouring her mouth in a bruising kiss. "You smell so good."

"It's Dolce Vita… Dior" she panted out through kisses.

With my head buried against her neck and my hands guiding her hips to where I wanted them, I said, "I don't give a damn about your perfume."

I felt her stiffen and pull away slightly. "What? What are you…?" She gasped then as I drove my hips against hers. "Is that what you are talking about?"

I hummed a yes and tried to kiss her again only to have her yank her moth away from me.

"You can… you mean…?"

She looked rather disgusted, which I found very funny. "Oh, trust me," I laughed, "there is nothing gross about it."

"Aren't you supposed to be a gentleman?"

"Aren't you supposed to be a modern and forward thinking woman?"

"That doesn't mean that I like knowing you can smell me!"

"Why not? It's probably the biggest turn on for me."

She made a face. "You're kidding?"

"I mean every word. To know that I have fully and completely aroused your body to the point where you are ready and willing to make love to me…" I sealed my mouth over hers, tasting the wetness of her mouth. My hands roamed over her hips and breasts. Her heart rate skyrocketed as did her breathing. "This is everything to me. You are everything."

I felt I'd more than adequately proved my point to her. I could feel her. I reveled in the feel of her. All five of my senses were tuned into her. To make sure there was no doubt in her mind, I made love to her with as much passion and love as my heart could express. And when we were once again sweaty and spent from our efforts, I collapsed on top of her to mumble into her ear, "Now, do you believe that I can feel you?"

Her breath was heavy. "I don't know," she panted. "I might need you to convince me again."

Slowly, I dragged my mouth over hers in a languid kiss. "Anytime."

"Promise?" She squeezed my bottom.

"Promise," I swore, mimicking the word and the action

Needless to say, we did not get very much sleep that night. But then, who's complaining?