Clark walked into Lex's office, in a pair of worn, faded – and now skin-tight (and containing several small rips) jeans, with an equally tight black t-shirt.
Lex did a short double take (very subtly of course) as he entered.
"Afternoon Clark. Nice outfit. Where's your shirt?"
Clark glared at him
"Shut up Lex."
Lex just raised his eyebrows.
Clark plopped down in his usual chair before apologising and explaining.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you Lex, but I know I look ridiculous."
Lex opened his mouth to refute, but Clark would not let him interrupt.
"No Lex, don't try and reassure me I know I do! You should have seen Pete's face when he saw me this morning! The only reason I'm wearing this is 'coz I had to do my own laundry!"
"And why is that farmboy?" Lex asked dryly.
Clark looked a little ashamed.
"I told my mum I wouldn't let her wash my clothes any more after she shrunk my favourite shirt."
Lex had to work hard to hide the gleeful expression – he *hated* that shirt!
He did not succeed very well.
"Lex, no need to look so pleased. You may not have liked it, but it was my *favourite* shirt!"
"Don't kill me Clark, but next time I found that shirt without you in it, I had plans to have a ceremonial burning of it anyway! You're better off without it!"
It was Clark's turn to raise his eyebrows.
"It wasn't that bad Lex! It was comfortable and practical and familiar and my favourite shirt! I mean, look at me now! I mean seriously! Look at me!"
Lex glanced him up and down, forgetting to hide his hunger as he muttered under his breath, "I am, I am."
Therefore, Clark heard him, and finally got on the clue bus.
Clark smirked as he sauntered over to his best friend.
Leaning against the desk, he looked Lex up and down appraisingly, and asked him seductively;
"So, Lex, do you actually think I look better in this outfit than in my shirt?
Lex looked up at him in disbelief, still not quite able to hide all of his hunger, his eyes quickly flitting back down to Clark's abdomen, where his t-shirt had ridden up to reveal his golden skin.
"You're not serious? Of *course* I do! As I said, I hated that shirt! You're gor- you're a good-looking man Clark. If you wore more clothes like what you're wearing right now, the girls of this town would be all over you." Lex replied, barely catching himself from revealing his true feelings – unknowing that Clark had already worked it out.
Resting a hand over Lex's, Clark whispered, with a hint of doubt, "What about guys?"
Lex gapped at him in shock.
'Ohmygod, ohmygod. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! Lex Luthor, you fucking idiot! You can't even hide your feelings from a fucking 18 year old! And know, because of your fucking libido, you're gonna lose your best friend! Fucking prat! What the fuck are you gonna do to fucking well fix this?!'
**********
Lex did a short double take (very subtly of course) as he entered.
"Afternoon Clark. Nice outfit. Where's your shirt?"
Clark glared at him
"Shut up Lex."
Lex just raised his eyebrows.
Clark plopped down in his usual chair before apologising and explaining.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you Lex, but I know I look ridiculous."
Lex opened his mouth to refute, but Clark would not let him interrupt.
"No Lex, don't try and reassure me I know I do! You should have seen Pete's face when he saw me this morning! The only reason I'm wearing this is 'coz I had to do my own laundry!"
"And why is that farmboy?" Lex asked dryly.
Clark looked a little ashamed.
"I told my mum I wouldn't let her wash my clothes any more after she shrunk my favourite shirt."
Lex had to work hard to hide the gleeful expression – he *hated* that shirt!
He did not succeed very well.
"Lex, no need to look so pleased. You may not have liked it, but it was my *favourite* shirt!"
"Don't kill me Clark, but next time I found that shirt without you in it, I had plans to have a ceremonial burning of it anyway! You're better off without it!"
It was Clark's turn to raise his eyebrows.
"It wasn't that bad Lex! It was comfortable and practical and familiar and my favourite shirt! I mean, look at me now! I mean seriously! Look at me!"
Lex glanced him up and down, forgetting to hide his hunger as he muttered under his breath, "I am, I am."
Therefore, Clark heard him, and finally got on the clue bus.
Clark smirked as he sauntered over to his best friend.
Leaning against the desk, he looked Lex up and down appraisingly, and asked him seductively;
"So, Lex, do you actually think I look better in this outfit than in my shirt?
Lex looked up at him in disbelief, still not quite able to hide all of his hunger, his eyes quickly flitting back down to Clark's abdomen, where his t-shirt had ridden up to reveal his golden skin.
"You're not serious? Of *course* I do! As I said, I hated that shirt! You're gor- you're a good-looking man Clark. If you wore more clothes like what you're wearing right now, the girls of this town would be all over you." Lex replied, barely catching himself from revealing his true feelings – unknowing that Clark had already worked it out.
Resting a hand over Lex's, Clark whispered, with a hint of doubt, "What about guys?"
Lex gapped at him in shock.
'Ohmygod, ohmygod. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! Lex Luthor, you fucking idiot! You can't even hide your feelings from a fucking 18 year old! And know, because of your fucking libido, you're gonna lose your best friend! Fucking prat! What the fuck are you gonna do to fucking well fix this?!'
**********