Blurring Edges

by Lyra Sena

Title: Blurring Edges
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Lana/Chloe
Summary: Lana seeks reality
Thanks: To my podlet, Nifra, for the beta, who continues to blow my mind with her amazing ability to take some muddled lines, unwind them, and make them readable. hugs

They've been sharing the bedroom for weeks now. Every morning the sun winds lazily through the curtains, and she rolls over to study the girl in the bed across the room, the way her hair falls against her cheek, her parted lips, her fingers curled around the sheet at her waist.

It is not a conscious moment when she realizes she loves the girl. No great epiphany, no burst of blinding light signaling that yes, indeed. She loves Chloe.

It's a slow-creeping, hazy awareness that hovers like summer humidity; it presses in skin, only registers when it's seeped into every pore, languoring against hairs that rise in protest on bare arms.

And it's a refreshing love, although she isn't sure it fits into any category she's known before now. She doesn't deceive herself about what it is and isn't. About what it can and cannot be. It's friendship, yet more. This isn't being in love. This isn't the one true love. This isn't a future love.

Friends, yes. Sisters, possibly.

Lovers? No. Or...?

Maybe deceiving herself is all right in fantasies, because she knows that in reality this will not exist, that she wouldn't even be ready for it to. Knows that her fantasies and realities must be kept separate.

The weight of feelings makes her want to wrap arms and legs around the girl and sleep long nights into languid mornings. Makes her want strokes of silky hair against her cheek, gentle fingers brushing teases down her spine, faint swipe of lips against a tender ear.

Wet rush of heat pooling low, and she slowly and quietly touches herself, forming the name that takes shape in her dreams. Knows that saying it aloud will only make this much more real, so instead she lets it roll around her tongue.


The world remains still and she's lying in bed, foggy with orgasm from just thinking about Chloe's body. Curved hips, full breasts, hooded dark eyes with piercing stares that refuse to look away.

She weaves their names together in her mind.

Lana. Chloe.

She realizes just how powerful fantasies can be.

On their way to school, Chloe grabs Lana's hand and Lana wonders if they can keep their fingers laced together, but fingers become untangled. Chloe loops her arm through Lana's, and it's good. It's comfortable.

It makes Lana feel.

In class, she lowers her head as Chloe takes the seat next to hers, brushing her shoulder. Has to grip her hand along the edge of her chair when Chloe leans over to whisper in her ear. Her hair stirs, hot puffs of air hit her cheek as Chloe murmurs, and tingling pricks run along her spine.

At the Talon, she smiles when Chloe leans on the counter, her breasts pushed forward over the edge, and Lana's horrified when she realizes her tongue has flitted out to wet her lips, and she feels her face getting warm. Excuses herself and rushes to the back room. Leans against the door and tries to steady her breathing.

Comes back minutes later, toys with the espresso machine, numbly stacks plates under the bar, wipes her hands on a towel. Pours coffee, distracted, watching Chloe talk to Clark. Chloe turns and catches her eye, winking, before placing her hand on Clark's arm, leading him to a table in the corner.

Chloe's hands move in sweeping gestures, her eyes blaze with excitement, her body spills enthusiasm and life.

They go eat after Lana closes the Talon for the night. Stares a little too long at Chloe's throat as she sips her water, the long line of creamy skin moving fluidly over muscle. Conversation comes easily, glances quick and long, soft and fast. Lana wants to open herself, just give Chloe anything she wants.

They're exhausted after dinner, and fall easily into separate beds, and Lana thanks God for the two beds because she's not so sure she wouldn't have curled herself around Chloe had they been sharing.

Lana wakes first, gets dressed, glances at Chloe sleeping, and has the urge to just hug the girl.

Wants to crawl in bed and snuggle next to warm skin. Chloe's eyes slide open and Lana walks toward her, bends down and winds her arms around Chloe's neck, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Lana pulls back to just look at Chloe, and the intensity is too much, so she untangles her arms and walks out of the room.

Later, when she finds the courage to go back, she pauses in the doorway. Chloe bends to pick up something off the floor and Lana tries not to notice the way the girl's underwear peeks above the rise of her jeans. Or the way her shirt rides up, exposing fine hairs along the small of her back. Lana tries really hard not to think about how she wants to lean over and kiss her. Right there.

Just a taste of her skin, a little taste. Chloe smells like green apples, sharp and clean, and Lana wants to spin the edge of aroma against the roof of her mouth.

Watches as Chloe walks across the room, tossing a book on the bed, disappears into the bathroom. Lana sits heavily on the floor, suddenly dizzy, and plays with the threading in the carpet. Slowly pulls one lone green string apart from the others, winding it tightly around her finger.

Stares as the skin turns mottled shades of purple and white, and then releases the thread, sliding it under her fingernail, the cutting lines in her finger from the tightness of the yarn fading, turning back to pinkened flesh. Tries to block out the sound of running water, and the image of Chloe standing in the shower, head thrown back as water streams across her breasts, down her legs.

Lana wonders if emotional security can be defined around one person.

Chloe's sitting at the desk, casually sprawled in the chair and typing on the computer. Lana walks up behind her, places a light palm on her shoulder, and when Chloe's velvet fingers come up and twine around hers, she hears her breath hitch, imperceptible. The way Chloe tilts her head back to smile at her and squeezes a little, and Lana thinks how easy it would be to just lower her head.

Six more inches and she can have her lips on Chloe's.

Focuses instead on controlling her erratic breathing as Chloe rolls her head forward and taps on the keyboard with her free hand. Lana has to pull away, and she does, walks to the window. Flops into the chair next to Chloe, and is rewarded with a long look. She's pinned by Chloe's unwavering regard and she wills herself not to flinch.

Wonders for a terrifying moment if Chloe somehow knows.

Chloe turns back to writing, and Lana studies her. Studies their contrasts. Soft internal giggle as Lana ponders Chloe's fingers moving across the keys. Blunt fingernails, looking a bit neglected, with perhaps some...dirt?...underneath them. Her eyes travel to Chloe's face, dewy smooth skin, round full lips, hair falling messily into her eyes, and feels a warm fondness for the carelessness that seems to envelop Chloe.

Briefly wonders how sick she must be that fantasies are encroaching on reality. Because this isn't safe, and Lana knows that, but the weight of the moment is so real. So tangible, it fogs her mind to recall why the parameters are important anyway.

Because Lana wants.

Wants to just lean over and swipe her tongue across Chloe's neck. Wants to trace wet kisses up her jaw, around her ear, over soft lips. Wants to feel heated skin under her fingers, rubbing against her nerves like silk, and memorize the curves of Chloe's legs, her arms.

Sees her hands opening Chloe's thighs, sees herself lowering her head and pressing kisses to the back of Chloe's knee, traveling up graceful legs slowly with an open wet mouth, her fingers wrapping over supple hips, thumbs pressing in the hollow curve of Chloe's pelvis.

Sees her tongue sliding over soft folds of flesh, surging into wet heat, her head moving gently as she tastes all of Chloe, increasing pressure and thrusts when she's completely inside, fucking the girl with her mouth. Rolling inside over and over, never wants to stop, never wants to lose the flavor because it tingles along all of her senses.

Never wants to forget the gasping murmurs falling from Chloe's full, parted lips.

Withdraws her tongue and replaces with two fingers. Long slide in. Licks circles around Chloe's clit, sucking it lightly as her fingers move more rapidly, both of their breathing becoming faster, panting whispers, Chloe's hips arching in rhythm with Lana's movements inside her.

Lana feels Chloe's fingers skating across her cheek, down the curve of her neck, fumbling until they find Lana's free hand, lacing their fingers tightly together, palms securely pressed into one another. Lana has never felt more grounded, more real than this moment, when Chloe lets out a strangled cry, and her muscles clench around Lana, pulsing hard with a wet flare of liquid.

Keeps her fingers inside Chloe until the spasms are faint beats, places a kiss into the soft curls, and slides up her body to rest her head against Chloe's shoulder. Calms them both with brushing strokes of fingertips across hardened nipples, along the underside of full breasts, over the ridge of collarbone. Lana closes her eyes as their breathing aligns, shifting into focus as her legs thread through Chloe's.

She hears Chloe softly call her name, and glances up, startled to find Chloe peering at her, head tilted to the side, and Lana drops her eyes, shuddering on a breath, half-surprised to discover she's still sitting in the chair, in Chloe's their bedroom, and Chloe is still sitting in front of the computer.

Flickers her gaze to Chloe again, and presses her fingers to her lips, tasting a phantom dream, and moves through the motions of life.

Waiting for reality.

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