AUTHOR: Nymph Du Pave
FANDOM: Smallville
PAIRING: Lex Luthor/Clark Kent.
RATING: Hard R
SUMMARY: Following 'Heat', the boys have some issues to work themselves through.
DISCLAIMER: The WB, DC Comics, MillarGoughInk, Tolin, Robbins, and Davola [along with whomever else] own this wonderfully cute show. I am merely borrowing the characters to use in my own evil ways and will try to return them as mentally cognizant and stable as when I took them [with the exception of the incredibly handsome and elegant Michael Rosenbaum of whom I might never let go ;)], but I can't make any promises. The Muse controls these fingers.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: A couple of my friends got together to conspire against me. They are TRIPLE DOG DARING me [those coniving bastards; last time I tell anyone what my favorite Christmas movie is ;)] to write another DSSCTM fic. They said they wanted sexual tension, CLex interaction, plus a nice CLex first time and a happy ending. Also, it had to be from both of their POV's, since they couldn't decide [muchos arguments here] on which character their average as a group liked better. These were their only requirements and I've had some major issues to deal with as far as Clark and Lex making up after 'Heat' [you can't tell me that one of them (Lex) wasn't affected by the events; I mean he betrayed his best friend how many times?] so here we go.
FEEDBACK: Tell me whatcha lookin' at!
AUTHOR'S EMAIL: nymph_du_pave@hotmail.com
Something You Said About Desiree
by Nymph Du Pave
Left, left, left, right, left, undercut.
Lex knew that something was wrong. Clark hadn't called him in three weeks. Three. Weeks.
Fast. Right, left, right, left, right, left, hard right, hard right.
Three weeks. That had never happened before. He had tried to call. He had left messages with both parents and, to his credit, Jonathon seemed as flustered and as uncomprehending as Lex. The older man wasn't gloating and, apparently, Clark wasn't sharing.
Uppercut, left-right combo, left jab, left jab, hard right.
He'd dropped by twice at the end of the second week. Clark had been in the shower both times. It was like the boy had a sixth sense of just when Lex would be dropping by and jumped in just as the older boy arrived. Lex thought it would look too weird if he just stayed around. Plus the thought of waiting up in Clark's room for the boy who would come back no doubt dripping and clad only in a cotton towel... No, he needed his concentration for this conversation.
Quick left-right combos, a bob-and-weave, followed by another uppercut.
Clark was pissed. But Lex couldn't figure out why he wasn't. He had been the one who had, in one week, gotten married, accused his best and only friend of hitting on his wife and then blowing up her car, tore up the prenump, got shot at [again] by his best friend's father being led by his wife -- instead of his best friend's other best friend being led by a flower -- got set on fire by his wife and then followed up on an annulment. Really, he thought the whole 'being in love with a woman who planned to have you killed soon after the wedding' thing would entitle him to some sulking, followed up by some free Clark down-time.
Ooh. Punch to the ribs. That one hurt.
He wanted his due Clark-time. Sitting close in the Fortress, talking about the world, their futures and being alone. He needed that. But no. The boy was pissed at him. And could Lex blame him? No. Lex had taken the word of a woman he had known for two weeks over the only friend he'd ever truly made. Over his real savior.
~"Actually," he told Clark. "She said she'd come to save me."~
And he'd come to believe her when the only person that had ever saved him -- and had done so many times-- was Clark.
His punches were becoming weaker, less coordinated. They were missing the mark.
He'd believed her when she said that Clark had hit on her, then tried to blow up her car. What the hell had he been thinking?
Three fast jabs to the head and a hard undercut. Hurt a lot. He was losing his concentration.
Clark had tried to warn him. And despite the fact that he'd seen deep hurt on Clark's face when Lex made his choice between his best friend and the woman he thought he loved, Clark had not given up on him. And, not surprisingly, the thanks went to his savior farmboy that he was even still alive.
Weak uppercut and lamer left-left-right-left combo.
Maybe the boy was just getting sick of all of it. Maybe he was finally giving up on Lex.
A hard knock to the left side of his head with Fairway's right glove and he was on his ass.
"Ow."
Jackson laughed and grinned down at Lex, still bobbing and weaving. "Want to go best out of two?"
Lex groaned. He saw the bright, smug face above his and remembered exactly why he had bet the assistant cook that he could knock him on his ass. The older man was rude and cocky as hell. "No, thanks, Jackson."
Fairway shrugged. "Do I pick up the bonus now or will it be included in my paycheck?"
Lex pushed himself up on his elbows forcing back a grimace. No outward sign. "Paycheck. Unless you need the money now."
Jackson had already taken off his padded headguard, which was being followed closely by his gloves. Lex should have known better than to challenge a man that slept with his boxing gear suspended on the ceiling above him. "No, thanks, boss. If it's any consolation, you were good."
Lex rolled his eyes and plopped back onto the mat. He didn't want Fairway to see him struggling to get out of the ring. "Thanks."
"No, really," he said and the sincerity in his voice made Lex look up. Surprisingly enough, when he was being honest, Jackson looked an awful lot like Clark. Dark hair, tanned, lean muscles. Boyish grin, though not nearly as bright or innocent. "You're mind seemed to go elsewhere in the last few minutes."
Lex nodded and shut his eyes. He was seeing Clark everywhere. "It was."
"Your wife?"
Lex stiffened and took a deep and painful breath. His staff had been just as surprised as anyone by the announcement of Lex's engagement. Sam Loomis in particular had been shocked. First -- and probably last -- time Lex had ever seen the older man speechless. And worried into using Alka-Seltzer Plus. They had all been in charge of building up and hiring for Desiree's perfect wedding. So they all had been well informed of the annulment. The events leading up to said annulment were reserved for the few and the privileged; the police, the accessories, Martha Kent and Sam.
It would more than break Lex's pride -- and increase his dating screen -- if it got out that he could fall so easily and be betrayed even easier.
"I'd rather not discuss-"
"Understood." There was a moment of intense silence. "I had a wife once. Left me for a richer man." Lex watched the intense expression on Fairway's face and was amazed to find that he seemed so lost. After a moment, he grinned broadly and winked at Lex. "Guess you don't have to worry about that."
Lex thought of Vicky and his father. There was always a bigger, hungrier fish. "You'd be surprised."
"Right."
He stayed on the mat and listened as Jackson grabbed his now full equipment bag and headed out of the exercise building. He heard the man drive away in his little Chevette and smiled. At least when all was said and done, Jackson would still be driving away in his little rusty, faded, pus yellow POS and Lex had the silver Spyder.
He sat up groaning at the pain. Oh, he was going be sore tomorrow.
+_+_+_+_+
Clark cleared his throat and drove passed the open iron gate. Just as he was wondering whether this was the dumbest idea he'd ever had, the little Chevette passed him and headed out to the main road. He recognized the driver as one of Lex's cooks and was curious as to what the man was doing here if Lex was working out. He knew for a fact that Lex didn't really care for the man.
He parked the truck in front of a large oak, it's leaves dripping from the on and off storm they had been having all day. Good for the crops, bad for the driving. He figured that if Jackson returned the same way Clark had come, he was in for a not-so-pleasant surprise in the form of a very large icky puddle of mud. Lucky for Clark he had his super-strength.
~"It's chemistry Clark."~
Chloe's voice, strained and full of meaning, filled his brain.
~"Some people have it. Others don't."~
He knew that she was talking about the two of them, but for the life of him, he couldn't stop thinking about Lex and applying everything to his brand new relationship. Chemistry. He knew that he had memories chock full of sexy, smoldering looks and they weren't from Lana. They had been very clear, meaningful looks of sexual tension from a bald scion Clark had found himself thinking of more and more often. But had he been mistaken? Had the chemistry been imagined.
He sighed for what must have been the multi-frillionth time -- far into breaking into uncharted numbers. He didn't think that he had been mistaken about Lex. And the time that Lex was debating leaving Smallville for his father and Metropolis, Clark had just about exploded with his feelings. The limo, the starlit night. The gift from the saved to his hero. Clark knew that he had not been mistaken then. There were looks at that moment in time that shattered everything that Clark had thought about himself. Until Chloe had interrupted him in the barn with his new foil, he had imagined that Lex had walked up to him again. He had reformed the entire encounter within minutes. Instead of handing Clark the foil, Lex grabbed him and pulled him close. He issued acclamations of love, of need and whispered a small query as to whether or not Clark felt the same. A simple kiss that quickly grew in passion was the only answer, and it soon lead to more.
Clark had also imagined that he had the guts to walk up to Lex, yank the man close and kiss him hard, pressing the older man up against the limo with his body.
He sighed. Was that all he was doing now? Imagining that he had the courage to go into Lex's private gym and tell the man just what he'd felt during the shotgun wedding?
That couldn't be it. He'd spent the last three weeks in turmoil, physical agony, mental anguish. He didn't want to admit his feelings. It just wasn't in him. Lord knows, he'd tried and tried with Lana and always failed. How was this going to be any less difficult? If anything he'd become so close to Lex and the friendship that existed between them meant so much to Clark. He wanted more, but feared that he had misgauged Lex's level of interest in him. What if Lex was just... He'd never had a best friend before. The closest that he'd ever come, he'd once admitted to Clark, was with a few of the women that he'd dated.
Was his treatment of Clark coming off as sexual because of years and years of dealing with seduction and not just guy to guy friendship? No real friends in Lex's life, but plenty of sexual partnerships could be influencing his behavior in that direction.
Clark knew, however, after three weeks of thinking and thinking and tossing and turning and thinking... He'd almost broken down before he'd finally admitted that his feelings for Lex were strong. There was care and desire and hunger and need but most importantly there was love. Not the kind of longing he'd had for Lana. That was a love in itself, sure. He'd loved her for the deep person within, for the wife he could make her, the partner in bed, the sweet mother she would someday make her kids. The amazing person behind the smile that he knew was there just by listening to her voice.
That love, the instant he met Lex, had taken a back seat to his life. Then it had moved to the trunk and finally out the back. Now it was affection and a sexual appreciation for her feminine curves. But nothing had his attention like Lex.
And this new-found love.
This love was also about protecting, but it was a more possessive and single-minded love. He wanted Lex in a way he'd never known possible. Things he could never imagine doing with Lana, he could imagine doing with Lex, sexually and beyond the relm of a shared bed. He physically craved Lex as well as mentally and he cherished the moments he had with his older friend. He had physically hurt while Lex was away during the two week business trip and was looking forward to a brief hug - that would no doubt surprise and elate Lex to a certain extent - and subtle groping.
Then biology class hit.
Now Desiree had more that gotten his attention. Her body was the type that any red-blooded, not entirely gay male dreamt about. Her long legs, supple breasts and luscious lips. Pete had even gone into mentioning the word 'fuckable' and usually Pete reserved more respect for the feminine form. But Desiree... There was nothing about her form that screamed 'respect me'. Maybe 'do a lot of other things to me' but certainly nothing that had anything to do with respect.
Then his eyes had decided to take a clue from his lower regions and, instead of leaving the simmering to his groin, they decided to join in.
There went old Mr. Loffery's projection screen.
As if the fire hadn't been enough for him to worry about, fast-forward twenty minutes. Lex speeding up in a sexy, sleek new car and Clark was all ablaze with happiness. Until Lex's "I came as soon as I heard" was cleared up as being directed towards Desiree and not him.
Lex hadn't even been worried about him. His best friend.
"Calm down," Clark muttered to himself. He'd had to remind himself hundreds, if not thousands of times that it was the pheromones Chloe was talking about that infiltrated Lex's senses.
~"Clark, once again, I'm grateful."~
He knew better than to try and stop the memories. Lex with Desiree at the school, thanking him for saving the woman in his arms. The woman that he was holding and coddling and kissing. A woman Clark had suddenly found strikingly less attractive.
~"And I'm confused."~
Confused had been the least of it. Having a woman to hang on to... Well, that was one thing. Clark wouldn't like it at all, but he could get over the fact that Lex was having meaningless sex. But meaningful sex? With someone that was not Clark? Someone that Clark hadn't even known until an hour ago? That wasn't flying. And if Lex was suddenly seeing another old girlfriend, Clark was going to be demanding a damned list.
~"You're right. And I'm sorry. I'd like you to meet Desiree Atkins. My fiancee."~
Horrified could not describe it. Lost, confused, broken in two and left in the harsh desert sun to be devoured by huge ugly buzzards...
No. Nothing. This wasn't irrational hate. This was the hate of a man possessed. And who was this ugly chick standing next to Lex. Clark could have sworn Desiree had been hot, but now... There was nothing but skanky-hoe leftovers from some scrawny dog's garbage finds.
Bitch, he thought and had to relax his grip on the steering wheel. Everything and nothing had passed through him in that second but the most prominent was: "How could I have lost someone I hadn't had a chance to truly give my love to?"
Clark had been stunned even further when Lex had handed over the invite for the wedding and proudly asked Clark if he would be Lex's best man.
~"Lex, I don't know what to say."~
~"I hope you'll say 'yes'."~
"I would have said 'I do'," he muttered.
Clark had known that he had to say no, had known that there was no way he was going, that Lex would have to find someone else to play best man in this shotgun scenario. Then he had looked up into Lex's gray eyes. They were so happy, so content, so hopeful and knowing and... beautiful. There was no way he could have said no. Even if it killed him.
+_+_+_+_+
Lex zipped up his bag and headed towards the sauna. As he walked he noticed a slight pain, like pressure, in his mid and lower back. Falling on his ass hadn't done his weary body any good. He hadn't been sleeping well in the last three weeks and, well, it was taking it's toll.
At least he healed fast.
He got to the sauna, walked in and realized that he was still fully clothed. He'd been doing that a lot lately. Not walking into saunas fully clothed, but just stupid things that proved his mind was elsewhere. He'd mailed several personal letters to himself, made meals he'd forget to eat, even left a book in the freezer once. He'd poured his orange juice in his cereal and the head cook, Phillip Lowel, had made several cracks about Luthor's not being able to fend for themselves. He'd told Lex that it impressed the hell out of him that Lex could manage his father, a full-time staff of fifteen and the plant, plus fend off the psychos and mastermind a wedding, but he couldn't get the morning liquids in the right order.
He turned back towards his gym bag and ripped off his sweatshirt. He had clean clothes that he had, of course, forgot to bring in. So after the sauna and the shower, he would be heading outdoors in ratty old tennis shoes and his birthday suit to get his clean clothes...
"Unless, I think for once and do it now, while I'm still dressed." He rolled his eyes at himself. Gee. He was a friggin' genius.
He dropped the sweatshirt on top of the gym bag and headed out in his sweatpants and sneaks. He smelled, was sore, tired, exhausted and a shitload of neglected work lay on top of his desk at home, not to mention phone calls about his father's 'progress' into the world of the blind.
So when he opened the door and saw Clark sitting in the Kent's new red truck pondering, it was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because all the aches and the pains and annoyances he had been feeling were gone and his stomach jumped with the site of such a beautiful creature here to see him.
A curse because all the aches and pains and annoyances were replaced with guilt and shame for what he had done to Clark and fear as to what the boy was going to say to him. And he still didn't know how to respond. How did he tell his best friend that he didn't know why he'd done everything he'd done in the weeks that surrounded Desiree without it sounding like a lot of bull?
He closed the gym door behind him. "Hey, Clark," he called out and watched the boy jump, startled out of his contemplations.
"Hey, uh, Lex."
Stilted, awkward and unsure, but not in the blushing, endearing way that Clark has before asking for a favor. This was not Clark. Not normal Clark. Not his Clark, the one he'd gotten to know over the course of more than a year.
The everything-is-fine-and-dandy-may-I-smile-at-you-and-brush-my-fingers-against-yours-seemingly-inncoulously-but-with-a-hint-of-sensualism Clark.
He headed towards his Porsche, beyond the truck, and tried to remain unfazed by his friend's not-so-friendly air. He didn't know how long he could do that.
Clark climbed out of the cab just as Lex walked past the hood. "Listen, I have something I want to talk to you about."
"Really," asked Lex, fully aware of his acidic tone, but unable to stop it. "Well, there's something new. Something to talk about. What do you mean by talk, Clark? Could it possibly be the same activity I've been trying to engage you in for the past few weeks?"
He looked down and shuffled his feet, but this time it was just more of an annoyance to Lex than something to smile about. "Lex, I know I've been avoiding you, but there's a reason."
Not, Lex, I'm sorry I've ignored you. Not Lex, I've clearly hurt you and I apologize. Not even a simple I know. It was dumb.
With Clark here, Lex could finally admit to himself that he was hurt by Clark's disinterest in him. By Clark's stupid, senseless anger directed at him. So what if he'd believed Desiree? Sure, it was wrong. But Clark seemed to have understood his father's slight abberation from normal. After all the man had taken a fucking shotgun to Lex. Nothing seemed wrong in Bradyville, so why the grudge on Lex? At least he hadn't tried to kill anyone.
"Reason," he muttered. "Really."
He opened the Porsche's trunk and grabbed his clothes, then slammed it shut.
"Yes."
"Hmm, well-" Lex stopped in front of Clark and looked him up and down. "I'm not interested in your 'reasons' Mr Kent. Thanks."
+_+_+_+_+
Clark knew that Lex would be upset. Sure. Clark knew that Lex would be hurt. But at least he thought he'd be given a chance to explain himself, to make things okay and, well, hopefully more than okay.
He had also thought that Lex would be fully clothed.
Creamy, hard chest with tiny, dark, dime-sized nipples. Abs that were clearly the result of many a strenous workout. Arms that were cut to almost the definition of Clark's, only leaner. And all covered in a fine film of sweat.
God the man was gorgeous. And why hadn't Clark ever seen a shirtless Lex before? He had x-ray vision. What was with the morals that kept him from glancing beneath a few, thin layers of clothing. He looked to the sweatpants curiously. Just a little peek could do no harm, right?
He cleared his throat. "Lex, I-"
"Forget it, Clark."
There was a break in Lex's usually firm voice and before Clark could process just what that meant, Lex opened the gym door and slammed it. Right in Clark's face.
"What the hell?" he muttered and opened the door. He watched as Lex put his clothes on top of an empty table.
"Fuck off, Clark, all right?" Lex wasn't just mad, he was emotional, and a lump caught hard in Clark's throat. Had he really hurt Lex.
The boy bent down to pick up the gym bag on the floor and winced.
"Are you alright?"
Forgetting the bag, Lex let out a sharp laugh and stood straight up. "Alright?" he asked incredulous. "Alright?"
"Lex, I'm really ver-"
"Don't even tell me that you're sorry, Kent!" He laughed again and Clark made an amendment to his thoughts in math earlier that week. Thoughts on making Lex laugh. When it was like this, no. He never wanted to make Lex laugh. "It's not like I needed a friend right after my wife tried to kill me. The woman I thought was the one. Thanks for the shoulder to lean on though!"
Jesus.
He hadn't even thought about Lex's need for someone to talk to about Desiree. Lex had clearly thought himself in love with the woman, had given up all for her, only to be betrayed, shot at and then set on fire. If Lex's belief that he was one of those people that were meant to be alone wasn't likely to be at it's peek right now, then Clark was a human being after all and that ship had been nothing more than a modernized shopping cart.
"I mean I know that I betrayed your trust by believing every fucking word she said about you and everything else-"
"It wasn't about that."
"-but, God. You could have at least told me that you were angry with me."
"But I'm not."
"Instead you just ignore me, throw me out. Fine and dandy over Daddy with a shotgun but you cast me aside like-"
"LEX!" he shouted. It echoed in the little gym. Clark swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. "It wasn't about that."
Lex looked stunned for a moment, then shook his head. "You mean it was something else?"
Clark nodded. "Yes."
"Something else. I did something else to deserve this."
"Well, no, that's not what I-"
"Clark." Lex held his hands up. "I'm very tired. I haven't been getting much sleep thanks to this, this mess with you and I just got the shit kicked out of me so-"
What? Someone had touched Lex? Clark took a couple steps forward, his eyes narrowing and his nostrils flared. The yellow chevette came back into memory. "The cook, right?" he asked. "What happened?"
Lex was a bit taken aback. "Nothing, Clark. It was a boxing match."
Clark sighed in relief, relaxing.
"See?" Lex pointed at him. "It's shit like that that-" He broke off shaking his head. "Nevermind."
Clark was about to search for words when some of Lex's hit him.
~"I'm very tired. I haven't been getting much sleep thanks to this, this mess with you-"~
Lex was losing sleep. So was he.
"I haven't slept either."
"Well, whoopty-fu-"
"I keep dreaming of you."
That shut Lex up. Clark watched as he swallowed hard. "Dreaming."
"Yes."
"Of me."
"Yes."
"What was I doing?"
Clark blushed and looked to the floor. He smiled, but he knew it was hidden.
Unfortunately, it should have been aimed in Lex's direction because the boy was taking this the entire wrong way. "Oh." Clark looked up and Lex was red in the face and looked disappointed. "Probably telling you that you weren't important to me. That Desiree was the best thing that ever happened to me and that I no longer knew you like I thought I did." He laughed and shucked off his tennis shoes. "I'm tired of wondering what I did to hurt you, Clark. I try my best to get you to trust me, but I keep fucking up. I fuck up here, I fuck up there. I don't know what to do with trust and I'm tired of praying for second chances. You know what?" His voice had grown conspiratorial. "Remember when Pete told you that Hamilton was in my study that night?"
Clark felt as if meteor fragments had suddenly started growing in his stomach. No. Lex was not going to tell him what he thought.
"He was telling you the truth."
"What?" he asked quietly, carefully.
Lex nodded. "I hired him to study the meteor fragments. I know they make you sick for some reason-"
This whole conversation was suddenly making him sick.
"-and I decided that while researching into whether Chloe was right or not if we found you the antecdote to your little alergy, then it would be quite the bonus."
Clark glared at him. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"At first it was because I didn't want you to get your hopes up. It wasn't likely that we would find it, but I had the good doctor looking. Then it was because I almost caused the death of some stranger, your father, your best friend and your obsession."
Clark gritted his teeth. His obsession was standing feet away ripping his socks off, not politely serving coffee with a sweet smile in her well-loved new coffee-house/movie theatre. Now though, Clark was in no mood to point out the distinction.
"It's like some sad, little Smallville country song, isn't it." He laughed without humor and Clark was startled to find the hint of tears. "Thank God you don't have a dog, Kent."
His mother had always told him he was blessed with an empathetic heart and he was starting to see just why. It was hurting for Lex.
Clark knew the boy was, as he said, tired. He looked exhausted and more than a little jaded. Clark also knew that Lex was telling him the truth about Hamilton and the Nicodemus incident and, honestly, later was better than never. Not matter how upset he was that Lex felt that it impossible to explain things to him, he understood.
He was just in the process of forming words to calm Lex and set him at ease when the young Luthor pulled down his pants.
+_+_+_+_+
He was sweaty and dirty and achy and tired and... he was about to cry. Nothing was good and everything -- his body, his mind, his heart -- was sore and he just wanted to take a shower. Screw the sauna, he just wanted the hot, harsh water pouring down on his skin and washing away the pain, the fears, and maybe even those hard to reach dirty spots on his soul.
So he didn't think twice about pulling his pants off in front of Clark.
And just like the book in the freezer and the OJ in his Count Chocula, he didn't realize the wrongness of the situation right away. Then, like a double-take on an M.C. Escher painting, reality hit him hard. Like Earl-Jenkins-with-a-gun-in-the-back-of-his-head hard.
He was standing there. Completely naked. In front of Clark. While Clark stared.
And not at his face.
Lex noticed that there was red in Clark's cheeks but also hunger in his eyes.
"There was something..." Clark's voice was low and unnaturally strained. "Something you said about Desiree."
"Really?" he whispered. For the first time the name of his ex brought up no mental images or bad, b-movie flashbacks. He was naked in front of a lusty-looking Clark and that was enough abnormallity to wrap his brain around.
"It rings true now."
"What was it?"
Clark took two lingering steps forward. "'You can waste your time playing it safe or you can go for it'," Clark said. His voice was firm and deep; nothing shy or retired about the farmboy. "'But at some point, Clark, you just know when something's right'."
"Clark," he said but then shut up as the boy made his way across the padded floor and didn't stop once until he got there.
"Lex," he whispered as his hands slipped around Lex's waist. His eyes were blue and green in the stream of light from the skylights above. "This is right."
The kiss was fire and he'd never felt such a rush through his body. The pain was gone, his limbs and legs, Clark's arms; it was non-existant as Clark's tongue slipped in and out of his mouth. In and out, slow and soft to begin with and then growing with passion unleashed into something Lex could fully understand. This was the ultimate lust; love and desire combined and Lex did love Clark.
His hands came up to claw at the t-shirt Clark's body was captured beneath. He tugged hard and ripped the collar. Clark groaned as Lex ripped open the rest of the shirt, then let his greedy fingers explore. Perfect golden-brown skin, small chocolate-colored nipples, and clearly defined muscles.
Clark, he thought. You're mine.
"Yes," hissed Clark. The boy's hands cupped his ass and pulled him in close, grinding erection against erection.
Stars, a sweet, terrible ache, and a dull throbbing. He knew what he wanted. He dropped to his knees in front of Clark and looked up. T-shirt ripped in two, hair mussed and eyes dark; the jeans were his only obstacle.
+_+_+_+_+
Clark felt Lex pulling away and before he could tighten his grasp on the pale, soft skin, Lex was on the floor, face inches from his denim-clad erection. Shaking fingers came up and, despite their inability to stay still, deftly undid Clark's button-down jeans.
And it stayed that way. Buttons open, fly ascue, and his penis throbbing for release from his clothes. His head was light and his stomach heavy; his toes and fingers, groin and nipples were all tingling with the look that Lex was giving him. Hungry and loving and oh, he wanted this to happen.
"Come down here with me," and just like that Lex was spreading out onto the floor, inviting him for more than just mouths on intimate places.
He bent down to the floor and braced himself above a very hard Lex. Clark placed kisses along the shaft and Lex gasped. "I don't know how long I can hold out, Clark. I've wanted this for too long, and I'm too hard as it is-"
"Shhh," he said and began to massage his lover. The older boy's head fell back to the floor. Clark let himself grind up against Lex's thigh a few times before the denim began to chafe. "What do you want, Lex?"
Lex moved across the without saying a word, placing Clark behind him. He rolled onto his side and looked back. Clark's erection jumped and he ripped off the wasted shirt. He threw it behind him and it was quickly followed by his pants and boxers. He situated himself behind Lex and kneaded his rear.
"Do I need to do anything here? I mean, guide me through-"
"Just fuck me, please."
Clark's nostrils flared. Lex's head came back to rest on his forearms, and he pushed his erection up against Lex. "Can I kiss you?"
Lex looked up and sighed, a small smile developing. "Always."
Clark kissed him and everything just seemed to pause. There was still the need, but it was second to the slow movement of their lips, the communication, the promise that Clark needed and Lex gave. Or had Lex been the one who needed it? Clark wasn't sure but he knew that, in that moment, they were both promising each other something that both of them had been missing.
Then lips vacating, the throbbing returned, and oh, god, Clark needed Lex more than before. His familiar scent was strong in the air and this time there was excitement and lust. Clark guided himself slowly. The warmth was enough to have his free hand clutching at the padded flooring. He wanted to pace himself, to keep from breaking Lex, but the older boy was moaning and begging him to take it faster, harder. To hold him. His arm wrapped around Lex's chest, a left leg slipped above and over his and then Clark saw Lex's hand drop to please himself. He couldn't hold back. Seeing Lex touch himself, fondle his own body which needed release because of something Clark was doing...
He pounded into the warmth, the tight, constricting warmth and after moments of that glory, felt his release. He watched Lex furiously trying to acheive his own climax. After a minute, he reached around and grasped Lex. The boy shuttered and came.
+_+_+_+_+
Clark was watching him.
He was wrapped in strong arms and coming back from a blissful orgasm. They had made love. It had been beautiful. Needed. Perfect.
Like Desiree had been.
He started. Her name felt like an icy wind or storm clouds to beach goers. But he had to face it didn't he?
Desiree.
She had been his reality for a while.
Clark.
This was Kent, though. Nothing Clark had ever done had been selfish or spiteful. Everything was in Lex's favor. This was Clark. His Clark, that he had pictured in every room of his castle, in the farmhouse, in the barn, in the many cars, in the Talon after hours... If it was Clark, then how could it not be real? Everything about the boy was real.
Desiree was a real person. She breathed and licked and kissed and you bedded her over and over again. You fell for her and she tried to have you killed. You can't be trusted to know what real is.
This wasn't about trust though, was it? Wasn't this about Clark always being Clark?
He wasn't sure what to think. Was Clark really looking down on him with warmth and a small, bashful smile? Was he really naked and in the middle of being caressed by the big, strong hands of an innocent, pure farmboy? Or had his mind finally stopped resisting the envitable? Had his brain switched from compos mentis to Gotham Insane Asylum material?
"I'm-" His throat just stopped working.
"Yeah?"
He tried again. "I'm not sure you're real. I'm not sure that anything in the last few minutes has actually happened."
Clark's face moved close and then out of his view. He felt the boy's lips on the back of his neck an instant later. "Neither am I."
"But it matters, right? I mean, it matters if I've lost my mind and you're not here and I'm just hallucinating this so that I can finally be happy. Does it matter?"
There was a moment of silence. He shut his eyes tight, knowing that this was the moment he would wake up with his back on the mat and the sun going down. He had fallen asleep after Jackson had left. None of it was real.
He wasn't sure that he could take that kind of blow. He'd had too many to deal with in the past and this was straight to his heart. He'd barely survived his mother's death and he'd been lucky that whatever spell Desiree had put him under had been wearing off by the time she set him on fire because if he had still thought himself in love, he might have cracked.
Going to wake up. Right now. That's it.
But the silence kept moving in time. Clark's arms surrounded him and pulled him close and soon, he spoke. "It doesn't matter. Not if I've lost my mind, too. And if we're both trying to be happy..." Clark pressed his lips to Lex's cheek. "Then why not just be happy?"
"But you're not-"
"Not what?" Clark laughed. "Not real? I most definitely am."
"But-"
"I am holding you now, Lex, and I will hold you again."
"No matter what?"
"No matter what, Lex."
It was soft, breathy and full of need. All of a sudden, Lex couldn't remember how they had gotten here, how they had crossed the barrier from fighting to... to... this. But he didn't care if he never remembered anything, as long as this was an option. He wasn't sure what had done it, but he was convinced this was real. He had known Clark since the beginning of his second life.
Desiree might have told him that she was there to save him, but she'd never made good on her promise. Clark, on the other hand, had saved Lex countless times and had never promised a thing.
Now, with their love-making, they had each made a promise to the other.
And Lex intended to keep it, till death do them part.
FIN
This is really weird. Oh, man. I don't know where half that stuff came from. Sigh. I hope it was good. Was it? It feels really weird to me, but sweet in a way. I don't know why I can't do skip-the-plot-straight-to-the-sex porn anymore. I try and try but these stupid storylines come in and take over. AAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!! I'll get one out one of these days. A real PornWithoutPlot [as some refer to PWP's; lol]:
'Hello, Clark.'
'Hello, Lex.'
***touchy-touchy***
***feely-feely***
***googilyeyes-googilyeyes***
'Come'ere you'
'Oh, yes, do me there!'
They came then lived hornily ever after.
Aw, well.