Author's Note: I do not own the characters. Due credit goes to the writers of the episodes from which I have borrowed scenes (Todd Slavkin, Darren Swimmer, Stephen S. DeKnight, Jeff Loeb and Genevieve Sparling) and the directors of those episodes (William Gereghty, Greg Beeman, James Marshall & Kevin G. Fair). There is no purpose to this story other than to hone my writing of in-character sex scenes.
SWEAT.
Talon trouble.
Lana sighed resignedly into the phone. After a fruitless hour of making calls, she was now at her wits end. Nobody capable of doing the job was available in Smallville, and the few in Granville who were prepared to answer the phone were simply not interested in heading over to Smallville to complete a fairly menial task that would not earn them enough money to make the trip worthwhile.
Lana frowned as her gaze panned across the walls of the small room, taking in the coloured tiles and the Egyptian motifs dotted about the place. The quirkiness was somehow completely befitting of the building. Her dream of transforming an old run-down movie theatre into a hip - and importantly, profitable - coffee hangout for the locals had never looked so far away though. Every time she thought she was making headway, something unexpected and frustrating cropped up. The Talon had been open for a while now, and though it had replaced The Beanery as the town's coffee hangout, the margins were still extremely tight. Seeking to make the Talon more affordable than The Beanery was a noble gesture, but was the place ever going to make money?
Just as she was about to give up and attempt to fix the problem herself, she had a thought. Jonathan Kent had always been a kind and generous man who, despite being kept busy with a farm to run, was perfectly happy to offer his services to the people of Smallville. In many ways, he cared more about the local community than the politicians actually elected to serve the people. As a farmer, Mr Kent had learned a number of useful skills in order to manage his farm and keep costs down. He was renowned as a handyman, often taking a look at problematic farm equipment for neighbouring farmers. There was the issue of Mr Kent's resentment towards the Luthors to consider though. Lex was Lana's business partner in her new venture, and Lana realised that Mr Kent might not be too happy to carry out a favour that benefits a Luthor. That said, Mr Kent wasn't the sort to deny a favour to somebody who needed his help. On reflection, Lana felt that Mr Kent would see it as helping her out rather than helping Lex and the Luthors out. She dialled the number to the Kent farm.
"Hello?" a voice answered after four rings. It was Martha Kent.
"Hi Mrs Kent, it's Lana. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."
"Not at all, Lana. What can I do for you?"
"I uh...have a plumbing problem that needs urgent attention. The Talon's sprung a leak and I can't seem to stop it. Lex is out of town, and every plumber from here to Granville doesn't want to be called out tonight. I was hoping, if Mr Kent had some time, that maybe he could come over and take a look."
"Oh, I'm afraid you just missed him," Martha regrettably informed Lana. "One of the cows took a turn for the worse earlier and Jonathan's out with the vet at the moment."
"I'm sorry to hear that," replied Lana, genuinely sincere as she knew the Kents thought the world of their livestock, small though it was. She was going to suggest trying for a plumber again but Martha piped up first.
"I'll let him know about the plumbing. I'm sure he won't mind taking a look." Again, the warmth was sincere.
"Thank you, Mrs Kent."
Lana stood behind what was once the concessions stand in the old theatre's lobby, unsure of what to do. She had already placed a small bucket beneath the leaking pipe under the sink in the small room behind, draining it on a couple of occasions as it was filling so rapidly. Her attention fell on the drawer behind the counter. Slowly, she opened it.
Amongst the assorted knick knacks were some pictures of her ex-boyfriend Whitney Fordman, dressed in military fatigues. Whitney had been a senior at Smallville High when she was still a freshman, and his family ran the local Fordman's department store. Rather than enrolling in college, Whitney had decided to join the Marines, recently being deployed on a mission to somewhere in the Far East. Though Lana had ended her relationship with Whitney, she still cared about him a great deal and was worried right now. Neither she nor his mother had heard from him for quite some time. Lana lifted the photo out of the drawer and stared at it as a mixture of emotions ran through her mind.
She did not hear the figure quietly entering the premises. Once Clark noticed that she was miles away, he didn't want to startle her. He took a few soft steps forward before speaking.
"Based on what Mom said, I was half-expecting to find a swimming pool."
Lana looked up suddenly from staring at Whitney's visage, to see Clark dressed in a plain white t-shirt and jeans, with his usual unruly mop of dark hair, a hint of a smile and what were known as his 'puppy dog' eyes.
"Clark! Hi!" she expressed in surprise. She had been expecting Mr Kent.
"Dad couldn't get away, but I know my way around a wrench too," Clark offered in hope. Spotting the picture of Whitney still in her hand, he enquired, "Any news from the military?"
Lana's mood became sullen. "I'm really worried. Whitney's been missing for over a month. The military even sent back his personal effects to his Mom. She gave me my necklace back."
Lana put the picture away and lifted out a small lead-lined box. Clark frowned. The necklace had as its centrepiece a jewel cut from green meteor rock, made to look like emerald. When she used to wear the necklace, he struggled to go near her without looking clumsy. Eventually he'd learned that green meteor rock was to be avoided at all costs. Clark hoped that Lana would not open the box, so of course she went and did the opposite. The radiation from the Kryptonite immediately went to work on Clark's bloodstream, causing him to wince and take a step back. The excruciating pain was building.
"You gonna start wearing that again?" he asked tentatively, trying to hide his agony.
Lana closed the box, giving Clark some much-needed respite once the radiation was contained. He breathed a sigh of relief.
"It doesn't feel right. I have to know he's safe first."
Clark decided to offer some words of reassurance. "Well if anyone can get through it, Whitney can."
Lana smiled, grateful that Clark cared. She confessed what she had been feeling over this past month. "Thank you. You know, I sent him a video telling him that I was breaking up with him. I'm still at school and the whole long-distance thing was never gonna work out. But...part of me still feels guilty for doing it. I mean, he's out there fighting against who knows what. Just knowing there was somebody for him back home would have lifted his spirits. I guess I just don't want him thinking that I don't care."
Clark was just processing the fact that she had actually broken up with Whitney. She hadn't given much of an inkling before now. "Lana, you've both been through a lot together and I'm pretty sure that he knows you still care."
"Yeah maybe you're right," replied Lana, looking at the floor between them. Then she perked up. "So, Mr I'm-handy-with-a-wrench, care to take a look?"
Clark smiled, following Lana through the door into the back room and the leaky sink unit, the cupboard door beneath which had been left fully open, revealing the leaking pipe and the steadily filling bucket.
He crouched down to take a closer look, and Lana crouched down beside him.
"24 hour plumbing is a myth," Lana announced. "I called every plumber in Smallville and the soonest anyone can show up is tomorrow morning."
"By that time, you'll need a snorkel. Let me see what I can do," said Clark, reaching out and trying to twist the section of pipe beneath the nut just above the u-bend. It proved to be an unwise decision as the water started leaking more quickly.
"Oh, wrong way," said Lana.
Clark twisted it the other way, and the pressure from the pipe forced the water out from just beneath the nut in two spurts, each directly aimed at Clark's and Lana's faces. Both instinctively put a hand out in a futile attempt to shield themselves from the blast as Lana yelped.
"Ah, the threads are history," Clark sputtered as water continued to douse them both liberally. "I need a wrench!"
Lana leapt to her feet, dashing out of the room. Now that she was temporarily out of the way, Clark summoned up his heat vision and directed it beneath the nut, quelling the spray, sealing the joint and leaving a small amount of steam to dissipate. The plumbing would work almost as good as new. He ran a hand down his soaked face and through his wet hair, somewhat pleased that he had come to Lana's rescue. A second later and Lana had returned with a wrench and a towel.
She was more than a little bit surprised to see that there was no longer a leak. "How did you do that?"
"I just kept twisting and turning and it stopped," he answered as he stood back up, looking mightily proud of himself.
Lana's attention fell away from the now fixed plumbing and onto Clark's muscular chest and torso, rippling through the thin fabric of his t-shirt as it clung to him. Clark in a wet t-shirt was one of Lana's fantasies and now fantasy had become reality. Her eyes bugged out and she gulped - her mouth suddenly feeling dry and the room suddenly feeling a few degrees warmer.
Realising she had gone quiet and feeling nervous and awkward, she looked back at the fixed plumbing before addressing Clark. "Maybe one day I'll figure out how Clark Kent does the things he does."
Handing him the towel, she added. "You're soaked through. Maybe you should take that shirt off before you catch a cold."
Though he knew that was never going to be the case, Clark nodded and shyly complied, leaving Lana mesmerised as he began to towel off his damp skin. The muscular chest and abs were now fully on display. Her focus fell on a droplet of water as it inched its way down his chest and settled in a small crevice between Clark's remarkably well-defined abs. She desperately wanted to reach out and wipe it away. Clark was unaware of the effect he was having on Lana while his face was hidden in the towel as he dried off his face and hair.
Having finally towelled off, Clark now noticed a totally transfixed Lana staring at his chest. Glancing down, he'd dried off sufficiently so it wasn't that. No, she was totally caught up in him. His eyes found hers and in that moment, Lana blinked her stupor away. She turned her head this way and that as she searched desperately for something else to catch her attention. No matter where she looked, her mind kept straying to an image of Clark's well-built physique. She was a goner and she knew it.
Clearing her throat, she almost whispered, "I should clean up."
In her haste to get herself away from the sexual tension, her foot slipped on the small puddle of water on the floor between them, send her careening face first right into Clark's bare chest. Her hands found his pecs reflexively just as Clark's hands quickly found her arms to support her. Just the feel of her soft skin on his body caused Clark to shudder inside - the blood quickly winding its way south. As he watched her look up at him, he could only drink her in as he saw it in slow motion. Her head tilting upwards first to reveal her face, and then her eyes following so she was finally looking up at him in a way he had always wished she would look at him. Like he was the centre of her universe.
He took careful note of her features - each individual point in his mind was perfection adding up to a whole that was beyond perfection. Her brunette hair was loosely tied and was still carrying the delicate floral scent of her shampoo. Her large brown eyes spoke of both nervousness and hopefulness. The way her cute little nose crinkled. Lips that called to him like a homing beacon. The slightly exotic hue of her skin. The roundness of her face that captured her youthful innocence yet gave a clue as to the woman she would one day become. He could feel her breath against his skin, and it made the hairs on his neck stand up in anticipation. This was a close as he'd ever dared to get to her.
The magnetic pull was so strong that neither could back away. There was a small part of their brains that was telling them that this might not be a good idea, but the larger part of their brains was telling them that it was now or never. Lana leaned up as Clark canted downwards, and now they were mere inches apart. The first caress was nervous and gentle.
However, once that connection was made, all bets were off. As the kiss deepened, Clark's hands made their way up her arms, over her shoulders and along her neck until his palms settled on her cheeks. That simple movement pulled Lana in deeper and her lips parted over his - their heads swaying left to find that perfect unbreakable contact.
Lana softly moaned as she melted into him, and it was a sound that was even better than the one in his dreams. This was better than the time Lana was under the influence of the Nicodemus flower, because unlike then, it was her fully in control of her actions. When she came up for air, he was almost disappointed. He could stay locked like this forever. Then, Lana wrapped her hands around his head and pulled him back in, letting him enjoy the warmth, the softness and the taste of her lips.
Yet again, Lana pulled away, causing Clark to look at her quizzically. Her face looked flushed from the sheer steaminess of their clinch, but she didn't look like she was regretting it. Without saying a word, Lana's hand travelling down Clark's chest and abs, tracing the outline of their definition. Her eyes glanced down at the prominent bulge in his jeans, and inside she was delighted that she had turned him on.
Buoyed by his response, she let her hand travel further down while she kept her eyes locked on his. Now she was at the waistband of his jeans. Her hand continued down and slid inside the waistband of his boxers and she made contact with his hardening cock for the very first time, eliciting a gasp from Clark.
"Lana?" he practically choked, almost pulling himself away. His brain was locked in a battle between continuing and stopping, and the part begging him to continue won out. He shivered as he felt her slightly cool fingers stroke along the length before settling down at the base. His clothes would have to come off before he ripped them.
"Please Clark. I want to and I know you want me to," she replied in a husky voice thick with desire.
At Clark's imperceptible nod, she proceeded to undo Clark's belt before unbuttoning his jeans. All Clark wanted was for her hand to stroke his cock once more. There was no feeling quite like having a girl touch you there for the first time. And for it to be someone as beautiful as Lana was the ultimate bonus. Within seconds, his jeans and boxers had been slid down to his knees, and Lana's hand was cupping his swollen balls.
As she began to grip his length and start stroking it, it was apparent that this wasn't something she had done before. Her grip was soft, as if she feared hurting him. Once she'd built up a bit of rhythm, she felt emboldened enough to tighten her grip and increase the vigorousness of the strokes.
Clark wasn't sure how far they were going to go, or indeed if he could actually go that far, but the sensation of Lana's fingers was too pleasurable to deny. He slumped back against the wall, all the while remaining in Lana's grip as she kneeled down beside him so they were face to face once more. He pulled her in for another passionate clinch, and one which serve to make Lana forcefully grip his cock and tug away with intent - the sensations coursing from her fingers, along the skin, down into his balls, up his spine and into his brain. Opening their mouths at the same time, their tongues found one another, adding new depths to the intensity of the moment.
Clark closed his eyes and let his other senses take over. His skin was tingling all over and his balls felt like they were on fire. Only now, he could feel heat building behind his eyes and he knew what that meant. Lana was once again the catalyst for his heat vision. He reluctantly pulled his lips away under the pretence of taking a breath but he really needed to figure out a way to stave off his heat vision from manifesting at an inopportune moment. Now was not the time to learn that she could bring it on with actual physical contact too. The ministrations down below continued and he could feel it as the sensation of Lana's dainty hand maintaining a tight grip around him stimulated him towards completion. He was seconds away, to judge by the tightening in his balls.
"Lana, I'm gonna...!"
He couldn't complete his sentence as his orgasm took hold. Lana had pressed her lips to his once more as she leaned her body into his bare chest. Her hand was now massaging him eagerly from behind her at an angle that would keep her out of the direct path of any eruption.
The geyser that she had summoned from him sprayed out with considerable force, gushing upwards and spattering the ceiling. Three bursts that looked as though someone had aimed a Super Soaker gun at the ceiling, and a fourth burst that squirted up about a foot and landed on Lana's hand and wrist while it was still pumping away at him. Clark's head rocked back against the wall behind him with enough impact to leave a crack in the tiling. He did not feel a thing, and Lana didn't notice it either.
Breathing hard and finally opening his eyes, he was somewhat confused to see Lana staring up at the ceiling. She looked stunned and for a moment, he panicked thinking that his heat vision had indeed been set off just like it always did in his dreams. Gingerly following her eye line, he saw for himself the result of his moment of bliss, hanging down a few inches from the ceiling like a sticky fluid stalactite.
"I...," he began, but couldn't find the words.
"That good huh?" said Lana, a little dazed and with her hand still wrapped around his slowly shrinking member.
Neither of them knew what to say next. Lana's attention then fell on her hand, slick with whatever cum wasn't hanging from the ceiling, and then Clark's cock, slick from whatever cum she'd massaged onto it. She carefully took her hand away, mesmerised by what had just transpired. Her fingers looked like they've been webbed together by the viscous substance.
The silence was broken by Clark's cell phone suddenly ringing. Fumbling to pull up his boxers and jeans while reaching into his pocket to retrieve the phone, he answered it without looking at the caller, accidentally pressing the button twice and putting the caller on speaker.
"H-hello?" He answered, slightly out of breath.
"Clark, hey. I just wanted to find out how it's going." It was his dad!
"DAD!" Clark almost yelled. He turned beetroot at this turn of events - his own father calling him just after he'd exploded like an errant hosepipe. He'd had his dream girl's hand pumping away on his manhood mere seconds earlier.
Lana scuttled away wide eyed, grabbing the towel and wiping her hands guiltily. They were both acting like they'd been busted, yet there was nobody here to see them. Nobody else could possibly know.
"Uh, yeah. I-I managed to fix it. The pipe just needed a little persuasion. I think it's OK now."
"Good. You don't wanna tug the pipe too much or else you'll bust the nut and before you know it, it's everywhere. You know what you're like with these things," his father chuckled, unaware that he'd been put on speaker.
Lana and Clark stared wide eyed at one another now. You don't say!
"Dad!" Clark squeaked. "I know, but it's alright. We got it working again. We're just cleaning up."
"Alright. Anyway, your Mom wanted to know when you'd be back home for dinner. Say, why don't you ask Lana if she wants to come?"
The double meaning behind this conversation was freaking both Clark and Lana out now. His father knew nothing of what had just happened but everything he was saying made it sound like he may as well have been there. Banishing that thought, Lana spoke up.
"Hi Mr Kent. Thank you but it's getting late. I still have a couple of things I need to take care of before tomorrow."
"Well you're free to come over any time you like, Lana," offered Mr Kent.
The call ended and Clark and Lana stared at his cell phone for a moment before simply bursting out laughing. What else could they do?
"Thank God he only called instead of stopping by. Can you imagine?" said Lana, directing her gaze towards the ceiling.
Clark shook his head. "I'm not sure I want to. I think we need to clean this mess up before we get any more surprises."
Nodding, Lana went and fetched a mop and bucket. They both knew that this was going to be a regular thing. Though they'd not had time to discuss the situation, they both knew there was something to build on.