A Need to Be Needed
Disclaimer:Not mine. Don't really want to make a witty remark right now, okay?
Summary:Lana/Whitney H/C, smut. Whitney needs her comfort after his father's death... Lana gives him everything she can.
Lana can't decide if her aunt is really dense, like, beyond belief, or if she just doesn't want to know. She suspects the latter, with how she's been treated by Nell in the past, and more importantly, recently.
Sure, she loves her aunt. And she's glad that Nell was there to take her in, instead of being thrown into the foster system. But Nell isn't always honest with her about things... like her mother's despise of cheerleading, something which, if the truth was to be known, Lana had only taken up because she thought it might make her somehow mentally closer to her dead mother.
She doesn't really remember her parents. Flickers, glimpses of memories, but nothing that could be construed into an actual thought or scene. Therefore, she figures, she can't actually miss them. But she misses the idea. Misses what she knows Clark has with the Kents, what Chloe has with the Sullivans. What a lot of kids have with their parents.
But when Lex Luthor moved into town, she remembered why she's grateful to have her aunt, despite the lying and evasive non-answering she does when faced with Lana's questions. At least she didn't end up the way he did, money up to his ears, but no love anywhere in sight. Of course, she only knows what Clark tells her about Lex's personal life, so she could be wrong. The younger Luthor proves to be very tight-lipped when it comes to things that involve feelings instead of business. But she has a feelings she's right.
This particular night, she's sneaking in again, late. The football game had been so close... Whitney had been a pile of tension afterwards. They'd made the obligatory appearance at the post-game bash, quarterback and... well, ex-cheerleading captain and all. They'd left quickly, though, for a more deserted part of the park, where they could have some peace and solitude.
Lana had offered to rub his back, something that she was all too used to doing for him. Truth be told, she was shocked that he'd played the game today at all, it had been so little time since his father died, but Whitney had been determined. "My dad wouldn't have wanted to see the team lose because of him," he'd told her, and Lana supposed he was right.
The backrub might have been a common occurrence, but it was calming. Between the game, the other stress in his life and the grief, Whitney's muscles were knots of tension, and with every one she kneaded out, Lana could feel his entire body unraveling. For her part, she just liked touching him. Liked rubbing her hands over his strong back, realizing how powerful he was, and yet how much he needed her.
It took nearly a half an hour before Lana was satisfied that she could do no more for the state of her boyfriend's muscles. Pushing him gently backwards, she watched as he fell onto the ground from where he'd been sitting, his body a limp mass of jello from the massage she'd just administered. Smiling, she laid down next to him, her head against his ribs, and let him pet her long hair in a way that she knew was incredibly soothing for him.
They laid there for a long time. Lana peeked at her watch once, but it was still more than an hour before her Friday night curfew of twelve-thirty. Plenty of time.
The trees in the park weren't dense, and the moonlight, as well as the tiny, glittering dots of the stars, were visible clearly through the sparse upper foliage. The trees were mostly pines and redwoods as well, which helped, since they tapered to a point at their tips. Entranced with the figures the swaying branches made, Lana only snapped back to reality when Whitney's chest heaved against her, moving her head a little from his side.
Looking over at him, Lana noticed for the first time around her, he was crying. Not loudly, and not hard, but his chest quivered with his quick breaths, and the tears streaked down his temples and fell off his head onto the grass as she watched.
Pulling him into a sitting position, she embraced him tightly, letting him lean on her as much as she thought she could take. He nestled his head into her shoulder, and she reveled in the feel of being needed, something that she never felt from Nell, no matter how much her aunt claimed not to mind raising Lana. Being tolerated and being wanted are very different things, Lana knows.
Humming softly because she knew that nothing she said would help Whitney, Lana waited for the sobs to taper off. Slowly, his body began to cease its shaking, but only because it could no longer handle the stress. One glance at Whitney showed panicked, grief-stricken blue orbs, begging the gods to do something, make the pain go away.
Well, Lana wasn't the gods, but she was who was there right then. Meeting his eyes, she stroked his face gently, and cupped his cheek. "What can I do, Whitney?" She asked softly. "Can I help?"
Whitney latched onto her voice instantly, as if it were a lifeline and he a drowning sailor, and stared at her piercingly, making her feel nearly transparent. "Make me forget. Please."
"I don't know how."
"Just tonight. Just... right now. Please?" And he looked at her with those awful, heart-wrenching emotions in his eyes, and Lana figured out what he was asking, knew what he meant.
Kissing his cheek softly, she ran her hands over his shoulders and upper back, barely touching, just skimming with her fingertips. Moving slowly, she touched every part of Whitney's body that she could get to, trying to spread calm through her caress. It didn't happen right away, but eventually, she could feel him relaxing into her touch and letting her lead, trusting that she could make the pain go away, if not for more than a few short minutes.
Laying him back down, Lana straddled him, putting her weight on her knees, just stroking her hands all over him. She knew what his chest and back felt like, but she never minded learning again. Never minded grazing the sensitive skin of her fingers over his strong back, lean torso and muscular arms.
Whitney allowed her to do this for long moments, but then he sat abruptly up again, and reached for her, somewhat desperately. Lana pulled him back into her arms, aware that he craved her touch, craved being held tightly against another human being. Slightly impeded by only having one hand free to roam, she nonetheless continued her lazy exploration, adding her mouth where needed, until her boyfriend was panting hard.
Unzipping his pants, she tugged upward on his shoulders a little to indicate he should rise up on his knees. He pushed himself away from the ground and pulled his pants and boxers to his knees, then settled down again, still in Lana's embrace.
Taking him in her hand, for a long moment Lana just held still. The groan that escaped his throat the first time she touched him there was the same as always, and it still sent the exact same shiver through her body, too. One hand holding still on his cock, the other roaming his back and shoulders, Lana waited until he was moaning and pushing up against her fist to start the rhythm.
Stroking him slowly, Lana swallowed his moans in her kisses. But when she felt his hips jerking into her hand and she knew he was close, he was panting too hard to keep their kiss going, and the sounds started to escape.
Lana felt a rush of pleasure through her own body. She loved hearing what she did to him, loved watching the products of her exploration. Though she'd expressly stated she wasn't ready for sex, and Whitney hadn't pushed, she'd done this before, many times.
Though the times he touched her were fewer and farther between lately, since more of their sexual contact was more about comfort than anything since his father had died, Lana had liked that, too. Liked it a lot.
The quarterback was a lot older than her. It might have been frowned upon by anyone else, but Nell hadn't seemed to mind. Plus, it was a tradition, and kind of a hard one to break. Star quarterback dates head cheerleader. It just worked that way. It had forever, as far as Lana knew. Maybe that was why Nell didn't mind, what with cheerleading having been so important to her, she had to have known the rules.
Lana's fist moved faster and faster, despite her reveries, and Whitney's face pulled into a grimace, mouth open, eyes tightly shut, as he neared explosion. Lana just watched, soothing him by running her free hand over his forehead.
When he came, he cried her name. Lana had never heard anyone scream her name in the tone of voice Whitney did when that sticky white fluid shot out of him, and it was hard to imagine anyone else ever would.
Of course, she wasn't stupid. Whitney was a senior, he'd be leaving soon, and she'd still have three years of high school to get through before she'd be free to live her life out in the world. She knew this probably wouldn't work out. But she figured she'd take what she could get, and right now what she could get was the incredible sense of peace that came from knowing it was her, and only her, that calmed him like this when he was grief-stricken, and that it was her who tore those piercing cries from his mouth when he spilled his semen in her hand.
Afterward, she cuddled him close while he came down, and cleaned them both up a bit. Then they left the park, cuddling a little in Whitney's truck before he dropped Lana off at her house. It was two in the morning, but Nell wasn't up, so she snuck quietly into the house.
Just as Lana is putting her purse down, though, her aunt comes by her room, heading to get a glass of water. She waves a sleepy hello, yawning, and says nothing about the street clothes her niece is still in, despite the late hour. Lana just nods back, and goes to bed.
Lana Lang likes being needed. She isn't entirely sure how she feels about Whitney Fordman, but she genuinely likes him. The only problem is she thinks his feelings might be stronger than hers. She knows he loves her, he's said so.
And she might love him. But she doesn't know what love is, and she's unwilling to decide right now.
But she can't seem to hate herself, or even feel the slightest bit guilty for liking the fact that he needs her right now. She's sorry that his father is dead, and she would never wish that on him, but she's been finding out more and more things that her aunt lied to her about recently, and Whitney is the one major steady part of her life.
Besides, she'd not quite ready for sex yet, and Whitney wasn't in any shape to help her out tonight... but she gets off on watching him come, so she'll make do with that for now.
Later... well, she isn't sure what will happen later.