Cold Feet

“Come on Clark, even non-virgins can have wedding night anxiety. I’ve seen it before. You want everything to be perfect. You fear sudden erectile dysfunction, or worse, premature ejac—”

“Oliver!”

The room was filled with his laughter.

“Don’t sweat it, Clark. I’ve got a friend who can score you some Viagara, if that’ll make you feel better.”

Clark Kent studied his reflection in the mirror. The tuxedo fitted him to a tee but the bowtie was giving him hell. He’d never been any good with them—either Chloe or his mother always had to do the tie for him. Unfortunately for him Martha Kent was busy helping Chloe with her dress so he was on his own.

Lois opened the door, made sure Clark was fully dressed, and then came in. She wore a maroon dress that was stylishly cut to accentuate her considerably curvy figure. She shook her head when she saw him fumbling with the tie and came up to him.

“Let me help, Smallville.”

She untangled the mess Clark had made and then started anew. Oliver kissed her quickly before leaving to oversee the loading of a swan ice sculpture he'd gotten as a wedding gift for the couple.

“You're terrified,” she said confidently.

Clark swallowed hard. “No, I'm not. Why do people keep insisting I'm scared?”

“Could it be the bullets you’re sweating? Metaphorically, I mean.”

Lois frowned up at Clark. “You know…now that I think of it, I don’t recall ever having seen you sweat before. Not even when working the fields on a hot day.”

“I sweat all the time,” Clark said, downplaying Lois’s observation.

“Well, there’s nothing for you to worry about. You and Chloe are perfect together. You’ll make one another very happy.”

“I know. I’m not worried about that.”

“Then what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.”

Lois finished the tie and put her hands on her hips. “I may not know you as well as my cousin but I do know you, Clark. You’re scared to death.”

Clark sighed. Lois had gotten to know him fairly well in the five years since she’d come to Smallville. However he couldn’t tell her that he was worried he and Chloe were making a huge mistake because he couldn’t be with a human woman without killing her.

“I’m okay, Lois.”

A look of dawning understanding came over her face. “You’re scared of tonight.”

Clark was caught off-balance by this. Was he that obvious?

“You’re scared of the wedding night,” she clarified. “I thought you and Lana had—”

“We did, that’s not what I’m scared of.”

“Come on Clark, even people with experience can have wedding night anxiety. I’ve seen it before. You want everything to be perfect. You fear sudden erectile dysfunction, or worse, premature ejac—”

“Lois!”

She laughed outright, annoying Clark.

“Don’t sweat it, Smallville. I’ve know someone who knows someone who can get you some Viagara-”

“You're the second person to offer me those damn pills. I don't fear that,” Clark snapped. “All of my parts are working just fine. I don’t have performance anxiety. I’m just nervous. I’m wondering if Chloe and I are doing the right thing.”

Lois put her hands on each of his massive arms and said, with unfailing certainty, “You are.”

“Clark,” Oliver Queen called from downstairs. Clark didn't need super hearing to hear Oliver bellowing. “It's getting time. Let's get the show on the road!"

“Come on. Chloe's waited years for you. Best not keep her waiting a second more than necessary,” Lois said. She squeezed his hand, and then turned to leave. She patted Oliver on the behind as she moved past him at the bottom of the steps, and he laughed.

“So,” said Oliver, once Lois had left the house. “What’s got you quaking in your superboots?”

Clark sighed exasperatedly, “I’m not scared!”

“Please, I know abject fear when I see it,” Oliver said, smiling and sitting down on the couch.

Clark sat down, making the springs groan under his weight. Since Oliver knew his secret they could talk in ways he couldn’t with Lois.

“I’m not a normal man. What kind of husband can I be to a woman when I can’t make love to her?”

“Mmm…good question. Chloe’s pretty hot. If it’ll make you feel better I can act as Chloe’s paramour-keep a smile on her face since you can’t put it there.”

Clark’s eyes flashed, and Oliver held up his hands. “I’m kidding! Don't flash fry me. Seriously,” Oliver gave it some thought. “Chloe knows what you can and can’t do and she still wants to be your wife.”

“But it’ll get pretty stale if I can’t—you know.”

“You can’t be so naïve as to think that intercourse is the only thing you can do with her? I mean…you know about the other stuff.”

“Of course I do but will that be enough?”

Oliver looked thoughtful. He wanted to convey to Clark the gravity of his next statement. “Chloe would want to marry you even if it meant you could never so much as kiss her. She loves you, Clark and that’s what will make this marriage work. And who knows, maybe someday something can be worked out for the two of you. Talk to Jor-El, see what he has to say, but don’t change your mind and leave her at the altar. She’s the best thing that’s ever going to happen to you so don’t let this chance pass you by.”

Clark nodded. “You’re right.”

Oliver winked and stood up. “About that paramour thing.”

“I know, you were kidding.”

“Yeah…right…” Oliver said, in just a way that hinted that maybe he wasn’t joking.

“Get out, Oliver.”

Laughing, Oliver walked out of the house, unaware of how close he came to actually swaggering. Clark studied his reflection in the mirror above the piano and took a deep breath.

“Love will be enough. If it’s not…then I’ll let her go.”

The idea of actually having to let Chloe walk out of his life was nearly unbearable but he knew he would if a celibate marriage ever became too unsatisfying for Chloe.

***

“I’m dead on my feet!” Chloe Kent said, falling back onto the bed. Clark had just carried her over the threshold and shut the door. Her eyes widened when she noticed something on the ceiling; it was gauzy fuchsia colored drapery. She could just make out her reflection behind the tissue-thin fabric. “Clark,” Chloe said, sitting up. “I think there’s a mirror over the bed. How tacky! This is supposed to be a five star hotel.”

“Some couples request that so they cover it unless someone asks for it.”

“I slept under a mirror once,” Chloe confided, when Clark lay down beside her.

“You and Jimmy?”

“Hell no,” Chloe said, laughing. “Lana and I did.”

Clark’s eyebrows shot up. “You and Lana?”

“Get it out of the gutter. It was when she and Lex were living together. He had one over the bed and one night she and I had a girl’s night in. I looked up and saw it there when I woke up to go to the bathroom. I scared myself half to death. I thought someone was jumping me! Though, that didn’t scare me half as much as waking up with Lex spooning me.”

“What!” Clark yelled, sitting up. “Lex got into bed with you?”

Chloe laughed at his jealousy. “He’d come home early from a business trip and snuck into bed with us, the pervert. I was in the middle of them. Clark, you’re turning red and your eyes are glowing. Calm down, nothing kinky happened! I went and found a spot in a guest room.”

“Has he ever come on to you?”

“No, don’t be silly,” she said, but Clark knew Chloe and he knew when she was lying.

“When did he do it?”

“Clark—”

“Come on, tell me.”

“It’s only going to make you angry.”

“It won’t, I promise.”

“He’s hit on me five or six times. It never meant anything and I never took him up on any of his offers. They all happened before we got together. Okay?”

He laid back and nodded, looking at his reflection through the gauzy material covering the mirror. He could see himself better than Chloe could. Lex had hit on Chloe, and that made his blood boil, even more than seeing him actually marry Lana.

But that wasn’t what really bothered him and he knew it. What was bothering him was not being able to satisfy his own wife on their wedding night, or any other night after.

“I know what’s really wrong,” she said, sitting up and straddling him. “You’re afraid about sex.”

“How long do you think you’re going to be happy living with a man who can’t make love to you? I mean…I keep thinking about Buffy and Angel.”

Chloe burst into laughter. “Buffy and Angel. You’re not serious?”

“I am.”

“Well, I can see why. I am blonde and tough like Buffy, and you’re dark and brooding like Angel. But Clark, if we have sex you won’t turn into a soulless bloodsucking monster with an affinity for nuns and virginal brunettes.”

Chloe had worked free the bow tie and buttons and was now rubbing his bare chest. She’d changed out of her wedding gown earlier and into a simple but elegant silk skirt and blouse. Now he could see a liberal amount of creamy white thigh.

Clark sighed. “Clark and Chloe Kent. I like the sound of that, don’t you?”

Chloe nodded. “I’ve dreamed about it for years.”

They’d had their big talk about how long it had taken them to get together—or rather—how long it had taken Clark to realize who was right for him. Now all Chloe wanted to do was make love and she had a pretty good idea of how to get Clark to try.

“You’ve never actually tried to have sex with your powers, have you?”

“No,” he said. “And I can’t risk it. You knew that before—”

“Shhhh…” she said, and leaned in to kiss him. “I just want to be close, to kiss and cuddle.”

Clark felt her warm, moist lips on the smooth flesh of his chest. In the lightly concealed mirror above, he saw how small she was compared to him, how far apart her muscular thighs spread to reach each side of him. He pushed his hands under her skirt, and began to smell her arousal growing. The scent of it made something stir in his loins, a distant need that he knew was only going to grow if they kept this up.

She’d managed to unfasten his trousers without him realizing it.

“Chloe…”

“Trust me, Clark,” she said.

He trusted Chloe implicitly. It was himself that he didn’t trust.

“I want to be naked with you. We’ve never been fully naked together.”

“Okay,” he said, his voice shakier than he liked. If his wife wanted to see him naked then it was the least he could do on their wedding night. He allowed her to undress him, and then he removed her clothes as carefully as he would unwrap a precious gift.

They sat before one another, kissing, his tongue exploring her deeply. He could feel heat building up in his skin, his heart began to pound. Gently, she took him in her soft, warm hand, and began to stroke him. He broke the kiss, and their foreheads were touching as their breath came ever more quickly.

“Chloe…please…I don’t—”

“It’s okay, Clark,” Chloe said softly. She wrapped a hand around the small of his back and began to lean back, pulling him atop her, but he resisted.

Chloe lay back, completely naked before him, her legs on either side of him so that her thighs were spread wide.

“Oh, God,” Clark breathed. He’d never seen her look more lovely, not even when she’d walked down the isle on Gabe Sullivan’s arm to take her vows earlier that day.

“I love you,” she said. “I trust you.”

Chloe continued to stroke Clark until he ached with the need to be inside of her. She urged him forward with gentle, kind words, her voice and eyes full of trust and understanding, and love.

Leaning forward, Clark took his time to kiss a trail of fire from her breasts, down her flat belly, to the slick folds of her womanhood, where his tongue played over the hard nub of her clitoris. Chloe’s gasps turned to long, low moans of lust, and he worked her until she opened, ready to receive him.

“Clark, please. Let’s try. I trust you.”

Clark’s mind demanded he do the sensible thing and bring her to climax without penetrating her but his body obeyed her whispered plea. He guided the head of his cock into her, afraid his body would act outside of his control, and that he would hurt her. Trembling with as much fear as desire, he sank into her, and began to move.

It was slow going at first. He found himself over thinking every move, fearful that every time Chloe cried out it was a cry of pain instead of pleasure but she encouraged him to thrust deeper, and harder, until he found a rhythm that satisfied both of them. He could scarcely believe it but he was making love to his wife and it was an easy, natural act, so much so his body took over, and he gave himself to the sensations, the smells, the sounds of their love, completely without fear of hurting her.

Chloe climaxed first, her body arching beneath him, her small hands clutching him as she rode each wave of desire, and he enjoyed every second of it until he reached his own climax. When it was over, Clark lay next to Chloe, his body covered with sweat, something he’d never experienced with his powers intact. He’d always liked sweating, and he enjoyed it now.

“I knew we could,” Chloe whispered.

“Never a doubt?” asked Clark.

“Never.”

He held her in his arms as sleep began to overcome the both of them. Just as he drifted off, Clark decided the gauzy curtain over the mirror would have to come down first thing in the morning.