You Be My Hero, I'll Be Yours

The silence hung over them then; he didn't want to break it, disturb the unexpected delight of her clinging to him, body pressed close. A body that no longer shook with sobs.

She sucked in a breath. "Then...is it okay if I asked what I was going to, before?"

"Of course. Ask."

"You're probably going to think I'm weird."

"I'll take that chance."

He felt a thrill at the small laugh escaping her. "I really need to be held right now. Held close."

He had never held a woman this attractive this close in his life. Closer than this? What did she mean?

She must have felt his confusion. "I can...let me show you."

His arms let her pull back, disengage from their hug. Slim fingers took his own, led him to the living room, beside the large, well-stuffed couch. She paused when her eyes caught on the shoulder of his blazer. "Oops. I think I might have slobbered on your sport coat. Here. Take it off."

He didn't resist as she pulled the lapels wide, worked the snug sleeves down off his arms. She folded it, turning to hang it on the back of a chair. "I'll get that dry-cleaned."

"You don't have to do that."

"Shh. No arguing with me right now, young man." She tugged at his -- Clark Kent's -- already loosened tie. "Okay. Let's get this off too. And the shirt."

Chaz gave up on any questions or protestations. She looked him over, hands now on her hips, elbows akimbo. Only the tight S-clad t-shirt covered his upper body. "That's better, but not quite there. Take this off too."

She tugged at the t-shirt's hem.

"Are you sur..."

"Chaz." The tone was a teacher repeating a lecture point, not aggravated, but impatient. "This is taking all the courage I have, liquid and otherwise. You said you could tell it's important, so let me ask my way. Otherwise, I don't think I'll ever have the nerve to ask again."

He had to stretch the tight shirt to ease it over his head, tossed it aside. The way she looked at him, openly appraising. It made him nervous, but he didn't want it to end.

"That's better. Now lie down on the couch."

A single long finger pressed against his sternum. He let it push him back, onto the couch in a sitting position. He eased down, turning, reclining, his head finding one soft, upholstered arm.

Above him, she looked down, drawing in one, then a second deep breath. The angle of view made her seem even taller, longer limbed than ever. The black dress with its open collar clung to her curves, looked sexier than a witch's costume had any right to. "Sometimes I get overwhelmed."

"We all get..." He tried to sound encouraging, supportive.

"Shush. Life, the world, and all the fucking shit it throws at you can be just too much." Another deep breath. "My hus...Johnathan. Sometimes I needed to just curl up and be held by him, to bury my face in that big strong chest, to feel safe and lov...cared for. Safe and protected, like I was in a place where no stress, nothing bad could reach me. Does that make any sense?"

He nodded, with more confidence than he felt. He hoped he did understand what she wanted, needed. He lifted both arms up to her, open, welcoming. "Even Superman had the Fortress of Solitude. We all need some way to reset, rebalance. Listen, Cheryl. I'm not him, we both know that. Mr. Ogden, I mean. Not Superman either for that matter. But I'd be honored to hold you right now."

Teeth bit down on her lip, tears threatening to start again. Then she was against him, stretched out on the couch, in his arms, her cheek pressed close to his bare chest. He pulled her closer, felt her leg sliding up, over his own.

"Mmmm."

"You made that sound again." Teasing her seemed a way to ease some of the discomfort they both felt.

"It wasn't an accident this time. I meant for you to hear. To know: I needed this. Thank you. It feels really good."

The arm draped over his chest pulled tight. Her cheek nuzzled against his skin. His own arm felt her exhale before the warm, forced-out air breezed over his bare nipple. Combined with their current, cuddled closeness, his own shirtless state, Chaz was losing his battle to avoid any embarrassing arousal. "This is...I'm weird, huh?"

"I'd call it brave." He welcomed conversation. Anything that kept his thoughts off how close she was, how good she felt -- and smelled — against him, any distraction was welcome indeed. "How many people need something simple, crave something freely available for the asking, but they never pushed back against their doubts and fears enough to let someone know? I think you're incredibly brave."

"You're so sweet." He felt a single sob vibrate through his arm. Her voice sounded tighter. "Dang it. You're making me cry again."

He stroked her hair. It was so thick but so silken-soft. "Go ahead. Let it out. I've got you."

Another sob shook her, then a series. He risked a deep inhale of his own, then another, letting the scent of her hair fill him, savoring the headiness it brought.

Her cheek nuzzled lower. He tensed at the friction, the sensation over his nipple. Her position again muffled her words. "Incredibly brave, huh? That makes me a superhero too."

A silent laugh shook her, so different from the sobs. At least it might hide his own squirms as she repeated her nuzzles, almost grinding her cheek against his chest. "I'll be your hero if you be mine."

It was whispered, close against him.

"Be my hero?" He wasn't sure he'd been able to keep the tension out of his voice. He wasn't sure what she'd meant, but sensed it was important.

*CHERYL*

She hadn't really decided to say that out loud and certainly wasn't going to share the thought process with him. Wonder Woman and Superman played way too intimate of roles in her mind, much too sexually charged to be discussed with this youngster. What was the chance he would show up at her door as Superman tonight, moments after she was remembering the last time a big strong Man of Steel had been her own personal, intimate hero.

But, damn, right now she wanted to be the most Wonder-ful Woman this young man had ever had pinned down under this broad, firm chest. She hugged closer against him, letting herself again rub against the tiny rise she felt hardened under her cheek. His breath caught and a thrill began to build in her lowest belly, that special warmth she felt at knowing, feeling her effect on a man. And not on any man, but a man she desired.

Desired? Yes. Not just fleeting, idle thoughts of a lonely, horny widow now. He was so sweet, honoring her hesitation, not trying to hit on her at all though he had to see the bread crumbs she'd been sowing, on top of how...right it felt in his arms, against this marvelous chest. She couldn't help her hand from exploring up, cupping under a heavy pectoral muscle. With one eye she could see that side's nipple, encircled but untouched by her thumb and finger.

"You were my hero tonight, Mr. Kent."

"Please, Mr Kent is so formal. Call me Clark."

"I couldn't have done it without you, Clark."

"Me and a thermos of hot chocolate?"

She snorted. Did he have to be funny too? It wasn't fair. "That didn't hurt. Especially when the little monsters asked where Dracula was."

She wasn't sure she would have made it through the parade of trick-or-treaters without the whiskey, even with the help of 'Clark.' She knew she wouldn't have ended up here with the half-naked young neighbor without it, though she could feel no effects of the alcohol now.

"Can I ask you something?" He said he liked her bravery. She was taking a chance.

"Sure." His heavy arm cinched her closer. God! It felt so familiar, yet like it had been forever since she'd been held like this.

"I felt you, uh, moving just now. And earlier. When I did this." She exaggerated the nuzzle, slow, teasing, and he rewarded her with a sweet little groan, his squirming hips distinct and clear under her leg. Oh fuck! She was almost sure she'd seen his other nipple tighten further, harden, still untouched. She couldn't help it when her thumb decided to reach up, stroke lightly over the tiny, stiffened rise.

This groan was longer, louder and his hips forced her draped knee upward as they rose off the couch. His breaths were quick, shallow. The thrill spiraling in her belly was stronger, undeniable.

"Your nipples are really sensitive, huh? Like, Super sensitive." The thumb feathered again across small raised nub.

"Ahh!...huh. You found my kryptonite."

It had been a very long time since she had felt a man squirm like this under her touch. Dragging her cheek again against his chest she looked down along his bare upper body. His hips lifted along with another groan.

Oh god. He was hard, his pants stretched outward.

"It's weird, huh?"

"Umm...what's weird?" She brought her attention back from his obvious arousal reluctantly.

"My, you know. Nipples. Being such a...an erogenous zone." He almost whispered it, shy. Was he that embarrassed by it? God, he was so cute.

"Weird? I have no idea on that. For whatever reason, the backs of my knees are ridiculously erogenous." She had certainly not had any intention of sharing that tidbit. It somehow helped that she couldn't see his face with her head resting on his chest, and he couldn't see hers.

"Hmm. Really?" She could hear his grin clearly.

"Forget I said that, buster. That line about backs of the knees is...uh...from a movie. Nothing to do with my knees at all. But, ultimately, I don't think anything sexual is really weird as long as those involved can maturely agree on it and enjoy it. I do know it's really sexy."

"Wait. What's sexy?"

She pushed her head up enough to twist, looking at him.

"You, for one. But I was talking about your krytonite. A big, strong, manly chest that's also highly erogenously sensitive? It doesn't get much sexier than that."

"For real? You're not just messing with me?"

"Messing with you? I wouldn't do that. Messing around with you? I'm very tempted by that idea."

She reached her face up, left a soft kiss on the strong line of his jaw. His short, even stubble was soft but sharp as mint. "And the way you respond to these perfect, sensitive little nipples being touched?"

She let a thumb renew its previous motions, rewarded with another squirming moan.

"And nuzzled?" Like a cat, she rubbed her cheek over his chest.

"Yes oh yes, that's sexy." She lifted her head enough to look him directly in the eyes. "Super Sexy."

The shyness was gone, replaced by an honest, amused, but still nervous grin. Cheryl lowered her attention back to his magnificent naked chest. She knew his eyes followed her when she let her lips open, purse, blow softly over the nipple her cheek had been teasing. His powerful hips heaved upward with a growl.

"Is it okay if I...I know I said no kissing each other, but I meant kissing kissing. Can I kiss you here? Please?" It felt good to plead, almost begging him, already knowing the answer.

"Uh! Uh...huh." His chest was rising, falling now, his breaths a rapid pant that managed to force out his assent.

Her lips barely brushed him, the softest kiss she could manage.

"Mmmm." It was a deep, vibrating hum. Her own sound now offered as encouragement to her.

She lowered her lips then, held them to him, a gentle, initial exploration. She held back as long as she could, perhaps a second or two, before she had to let her tongue lave over him, tasting him, teasing him, feeling the hardened nubbin rise.

"Oh my god!" He sounded forlorn, lost, giving in to the sensations. His hips ground down, shoved up, repeated. His powerful body humped harder as her lips sealed around him, suckling harder.

Muscles tensed, hard and strong under her. Her thumb was relentless in its teasing opposite her lips. His legs thrashed. Wordless, deep sounds escaped him, vibrating through his chest. She risked a glance down, saw the crotch of his pants stretched out even more, rising higher. His breaths, his body, his delightful groaning noises encouraged her, let her know how excited the young man was.

She knew she shouldn't, that it was going way too far, but she had to know, to feel him. As her mouth latched on to him, sucking at him, her tongue flicked harder over the central point. Her hand abandoned its teased little twin, slid down over a strong abdomen, slick now with sweat.

When his hips heaved skyward again, the hand continued down, over waistband and belt.

Her eyes shot wide. Damn. She hadn't expected this. He wasn't just hard under her palm. He was thick, big, built like the rest of him. And almost pulsing with pent up tension. She let her lips brush over her tender target with each word. "Yes, baby. So sexy. So hard. So big and strong, my sexy hero. Really big."

*CHAZ*

"Uhh! Fuck. Cheryl!" His voice cracked on her name. Share-uuuhl! He was panicked, way too close to losing control entirely. He squeezed his eyes shut, tried to think of anything except what this incredibly sexy woman was doing to him. Nothing was going to happen tonight, she'd promised. No: he'd promised that to her.

Even that distracted him, a little. It might have been enough, except that Cheryl chose that moment to once again a release a low, pleased "Mmmm."

This one was different from the ones before. First, because her lips were sealed around his nipple, sending the sound as a vibrating hum like frozen fire through his over sensitized nerves there. Second, because the palm pressing down on his hard-on through his pants became exploring fingers that stroked a slow, unmistakable pump up, down, up.

"Mmmm!" Another jolt hummed through his chest.

"Ahh!"

Down. Up. Down. Her hand communicated exactly what she desired and he was powerless to resist.

"Ah! Cheryl! Wait. I'm..."

Her tongue flicked out, harder, quicker, more insistent than before. And far more than he could stand.

The sound that escaped him was closer to a scream or a growl, long and filled with longing, though with no hint of word or meaning.

His eyes were open, staring, but entirely unable to focus, his world a blur.

His back was arched, hips thrust upward. His groin, no, his whole being pulsed out his release, her fingers encouraging more and more. The flood of sensations receded enough for him to suck in a deep, ragged breath. His body fell back to the couch, suddenly impossibly heavy.

"Mm."

She gave the nipple a tiny hint of her previous humming appreciations, but now it was far too much, an awaking jolt out of a deepening fog.

What had he done? Idiot! He'd cum in his fucking pants! Cum? He'd fucking exploded. Erupted. After what he'd promised? After she said she trusted him! What would she possibly think?

He shoved himself up. He had to run, get away, hide from...her? Himself? What he'd done? It didn't matter. His sudden surge of movement pushed Cheryl off the edge of the couch. Her face was shocked, uncomprehending.

Twisting, he tried to catch her, or at least slow her fall. His muscles and reflexes didn't fully cooperate, still reluctant to abandon the languidity they fully expected to accompany such an overwhelming release.

Without his help she still slid more than fell, landing on her back on the carpet, fine until Chaz rescue efforts landed him atop her.

"Ooof." His weight forced the air to vacate her lungs in a rush. Worse, his lower body landed between her spread legs, pressing his soaked, still-hard embarrassment close against her. His hands scrambled blindly for a solid support, to push himself up off her, one finding a soft-firm breast instead. The more he tried to lift his heavy upper body, the more his hardness pressed against her. He could hear the effort it took for her to draw in a wheezing gasp.

Then he was up, standing, grabbing at his white shirt, his blazer.

"I'm sorry. So sorry. I didn't mean to...I'm really, really sorry." He was babbling, lost in shamed panic. He took a step toward the front door, then stopped. It would not due at all for a shirtless man to be seen running from Cheryl's house in the middle of the night. A shirtless man with a distinct wet patch on the front of his pants.

"I...I'll sneak out the back. No one will see." Sneaking, staying hidden: after his foolish, childish, embarrassing reaction, it seemed appropriate to skulk through the shadows.

"Chaz. Wait."

At the back door, leading not only to her backyard but the old gate in the fence that divided the neighbors' yards, that would let him flee home unseen, he turned to see her seated on the floor, the skirt of the black dress tangled around her waist, staring at him. Confused, stunned, disgusted? He couldn't read her expression.

"Don't..."

"Sorry!" He cut her off as he fled, pulling the door shut, leaving him cursing himself as he fumbled with the old gate latch before finally stumbling into his parents' unlit, empty house. Despairing, he threw himself down on the bed, still in his soiled pants, still silently cursing his idiocy.

*CHERYL*

It all went downhill so very fast. Why had she taken things so far? Why? She wasn't nearly drunk enough to blame the hot chocolate. It just had felt so good -- Chaz was wonderful, easy to be with, and so mouthwateringly thick. And then she'd gotten bold, listened to him, trusted him when he coaxed her request out.

Even that had worked out. My god. She could still feel that bare chest and those big arms holding her, encouraging her to feel safe, secure, small. How had she ever had the nerve to encourage him to strip down like that for her? She grinned, shaking her head at her own audacity.

But she had to take things too far. Damn. Damn. Damn.

The black witch's dress was tossed over a door. She flopped into bed, staring at the ceiling, far from sleep. Eventually, two memories drowned out the self-recriminations. The first was being held to that naked strong chest. The second was him landing on her, his weight crushing the breath out of her lungs, and that rigid thickness, pressed close between her spread thighs, still so very hard even after releasing like that under her hand.

Fuck: she was turned on.

And fuck: she wanted him. On her. In her. Crushing her under him and to him. Pulsing, pumping inside her as powerfully as he had under her hand.

———

Cheryl's foggy mind didn't recognize the sounds coming from outside, but it sounded like serious physical labor, way too early in the morning. Not loud, almost sneaky. She stretched and then frowned, somehow lonelier now after she had chased off an overwhelmed young Chaz than she had felt for much of the long months alone in this house. She threw on a thick white terry robe, snugging it tight around her waist.

She froze as soon as she saw a shape looming outside the front window. It was Chaz, stretched up to reach the string that released one of the contraptions. Even this early he'd shed his jacket, working only in a thermal weave shirt. He looked good in it. Really good.

He grinned and waved at her through the window before dropping his eyes, almost immediately embarrassed. She had hurt him, shamed him, all by being too eager, too pushy, too forward.

Two deep breaths before she tugged the door open didn't keep her smile from feeling forced.

"Good morning!" She'd almost added 'handsome' at the end, cut herself off. Too much, too soon. Just like last night.

*CHAZ*

God. She was gorgeous, beginning with that wide, intoxicating smile. How had those amazing lips really ended up sucking at one of his way-too-sensitive nipples last night? Sucking and tonguing him until he came in his pants.

He had been awake early, not sure if he was more ashamed of cumming that way or running away afterwards. Still, he'd promised to pack up the holiday decorations. Returning to the Ogdens' -- no, Cheryl's -- house brought strong, conflicted feelings: he'd desperately wanted to see her, to possibly feel her snuggled close against him again. He'd also dreaded having to face her ever again after the disaster that ended last night.