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Chapter 4- After Effects
Clark woke from a very vivid dream with sticky boxers and the smell of Lex still filling his nostrils. He opened his eyes and was momentarily shocked to find himself in the mansion. Then memories of the night before returned full force and with them the ache in his groin. He was still shirtless and had fallen into an exhausted sleep immediately after crawling into bed.
His face was buried in Lex's sweater and he remembered all too well the feel of Lex in his arms. He wasn't sure he could look at Lex and not touch him, as he'd wanted to, had almost done, last night. He felt a need to leave before Lex woke to avoid the temptation, but knew he could not. He had to at least check on his friend before going home and attempting to recover.
He snuck down the hall and quietly opened Lex's bedroom door. He was in the same position he'd been when Clark had last left him, curled on his side still clutching the blue silk shirt. Reassured, Clark laid the white sweater, neatly folded, on an end table and gently shut the bedroom door.
He had been tempted to take the sweater home with him, but didn't think he could explain having done so when Lex came looking for it. He sped home and snuck up to his room, changing into jeans and a t-shirt before heading out to start his chores. He did them at a human pace, knowing he needed to keep himself occupied to avoid doing something crazy. After he finished his own chores he started on Jonathan's.
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Lex woke feeling surprisingly refreshed. He stretched languorously and felt something silky brush his cheek. He opened his eyes in surprise and looked down in confusion at Clark's shirt, which he had been using as a pillow. Suddenly the memories of last night flooded his brain and he shot up out of the bed, horrified. He remembered feeling giddy after drinking Pete's punch. He had eaten a plate of food and waited for Clark to return from answering the door.
##### Flashback#######
Lex watched as Clark walked into the den. The boy made his way over to the food table and filled a plate. He grabbed a soda and began looking around for a place to sit. Lex was about to call out to him when he saw Clark zero in on Chloe, Pete, and Lana. With a sick feeling in his gut he watched Clark walk over and sit down with them causing the girls to giggle and whisper.
He stared without trying to hide it as the group laughed and talked. Then Chloe grabbed Pete and pulled him toward the dance floor leaving Lana alone with Clark. He felt a sudden strong urge to claw her eyes out with his fork to keep her from looking at his Clark so suggestively. He still had enough self-control at this point to realize that he'd better remove himself to a closet before he did something stupid.
He grabbed his glass of punch ('the stuff really was delicious') and headed out to the foyer. When he opened the door to the coat closet he was mildly surprised to see Chloe and Pete in a liplock. 'About damn time,' he thought, 'Those two have been sending eyefucks back and forth for months.'
He wandered off to find an empty closet and continued sipping his punch. He finally settled on the pantry as a place where Clark might not think to look for him. He thought and drank, drank and thought until his cup was empty. Then he noticed that he was fidgeting. He felt full of energy and the pantry, though large, felt claustrophobic. He decided he had calmed down enough to return to the party.
He entered the den and spotted Lana with a group of other teens, but found no trace of Clark. Feeling much more friendly toward Lana he made his way over to the group and said hello. Lana looked around behind him and responded distractedly, "I, uh, have to go look for someone," she said.
Lex's violent urges returned as he watched her wander off, obviously searching for Clark. He chatted with the group of teens and slowly his giddiness returned. Then he heard the opening notes of Pour Some Sugar on Me. He loved that song. He started dancing feeling incredibly sexy and confident. His new friends cheered him on as he climbed onto the bar and continued dancing. Then he decided it would be fun to strip. He had been to enough clubs to know just what was most provoking. He felt eyes all over him and loved the hot looks he was getting.
He teased the crowd singing the words as he lifted his sweater and then slid it back into place again and again. Finally he slid it sensuously over his head and began swinging it in circles. He looked out at the crowd and spotted Clark staring at him with heat filled eyes. He felt that intense gaze trailing over every inch of his body setting him on fire. He let go of his sweater and watched it land on Clark. He continued singing and dancing provocatively, but the rest of his audience disappeared. He was dancing only for the hunger in Clark's eyes.
He watched as Clark began unbuttoning his silk shirt and then leapt off the bar. As he closed the space between them Clark removed his shirt and threw it at Lex exposing skin that he longed to touch. He wrapped the shirt around his neck and inhaled the Clark scent, feeling dizzy. 'If only I could bottle that smell,' he thought. He reached out a hand and touched that smooth expanse of skin and muscle then felt himself fall forward into a welcoming blackness.
###### End Flashback######
What the hell had gotten into him? He hadn't touched a drop of alcohol all night. All he had was a whole lot of punch. Oh dear God the punch. He was going to find the kid who had spiked it and rip them limb from limb. Now that he thought about it he realized everyone at the party had been acting strange, including Clark. His saving grace was that Clark had been as drunk as he had and would probably not analyze his actions too much. He couldn't be sure of that though. He had to make sure Clark thought that his behavior last night had stemmed only from the punch and nothing more.
After a quick shower Lex threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and headed over to Clark's to try and gauge the boy's feelings about what had turned into the party of the century. As he drove he couldn't help but wonder why he didn't seem to be feeling any ill effects, other than the potential consequences of his actions, after having consumed what must have been enough alcohol to tranquilize a small horse. He couldn't remember ever having been as trashed as he had been last night.
When he arrived he headed straight for the Fortress of Solitude. He had no desire to see Jonathan Kent today. He knew if Clark was not already out in the barn he would be eventually. "Clark?" he called as he made his way up the steps, "Clark? Are you here?" Receiving no answer he looked around the room, but found no indication that Clark was there.
Lex wondered what Clark thought about the events of the night before. Would he be angry? Would he try to pretend all was well out of some Clarklike desire not to hurt his feelings? If only he could observe Clark unnoticed to get an idea of his true feelings. Then he realized that that was entirely possible. All he had to do was find a hiding place and watch Clark when he arrived to determine his mood. Then he could step out and talk to Clark without fearing he was being "protected."
He looked around for a spot and finally decided on a corner partially obscured by boxes. The boxes would conceal his presence as long as no one looked too closely, but allowed him a clear view of the entrance and the couch where Clark usually sat. He settled himself Indian style awaiting Clark's return. Before long he heard familiar footsteps and moved to his knees to get a better view. Clark entered the loft looking tired and disturbed. Lex envisioned torturing the punch spiker into a slow, agonizing death.
"Omigod-omigod-omigod-omigod. What the HELL is wrong with me? What was I thinking? I have to stop. This is CRAZY," Clark groaned and hit himself on the forehead repeatedly. "You have to stop thinking about Lex this way Clark. He's your best friend. You're being a pervert!"
Lex's eyes widened and his mouth hung open. Clark was thinking perverted thoughts about him. For a moment he felt a rising tide of joy. Then it hit him. Clark didn't want to think perverted thoughts about him. Clark was still drunk. 'Shitshitshitshitshit,' he thought. If Clark discovered his presence now he wasn't sure he could avoid doing something they'd both regret. Clark was breathing raggedly and pounding on his head with his fists. Lex began to worry the boy might hurt himself.
"Oh, what the hell," Clark sighed rubbing his hands over his face. Then he reached down and removed his t-shirt tossing it onto the floor. Lex had a moment of confusion before Clark lay back on the couch and started running his fingers gently over the tight muscles of his abdomen and then higher flicking his nipples.
Lex realized that his thoughts Wednesday night about Clark never having masturbated were completely ludicrous. He was teasing himself with a practiced hand and Lex's response was immediate and visceral. A small part of him wanted to disappear. He wasn't sure he could watch this and still keep himself in check. The rest of him thanked whatever gods were smiling down on him for this once in a lifetime opportunity.
Clark's hand slid lower and unzipped his jeans removing his hard cock. Lex squeezed his hands tightly on his thighs to keep from touching himself. He couldn't afford to lose control or Clark might see him. Later though. . . Before he could get caught up in fantasy he focused on the reality in front of him. Clark rubbed his fingertips lightly over every long, hard inch of his erection before wrapping his hand around himself and stroking. Lex felt a jump in his groin and bit his lower lip to keep from crying out. He wished he had worn sweatpants instead of jeans.
Clark stroked faster and faster thrusting his hips into his fist and moaning. As he came, covering his chest in ribbons of liquid heat, he cried out, over and over, "Lex! Lex! Oh, God LEX!" At the sound of his name on Clark's lips Lex exploded wetting his jeans, but barely able to care. It was the best orgasm he'd ever had and he'd never even laid a hand on himself.
Clark reached an arm up and yanked a blanket off the back of the couch. He snuggled down into the cushions and began to snore. Lex waited until he was sure the boy was deeply asleep before sneaking quietly past the couch and out of the barn. As he climbed into his car and headed back to the mansion he thought, 'Innocent farmboy my ass.'
Chapter 4- After Effects
Clark woke from a very vivid dream with sticky boxers and the smell of Lex still filling his nostrils. He opened his eyes and was momentarily shocked to find himself in the mansion. Then memories of the night before returned full force and with them the ache in his groin. He was still shirtless and had fallen into an exhausted sleep immediately after crawling into bed.
His face was buried in Lex's sweater and he remembered all too well the feel of Lex in his arms. He wasn't sure he could look at Lex and not touch him, as he'd wanted to, had almost done, last night. He felt a need to leave before Lex woke to avoid the temptation, but knew he could not. He had to at least check on his friend before going home and attempting to recover.
He snuck down the hall and quietly opened Lex's bedroom door. He was in the same position he'd been when Clark had last left him, curled on his side still clutching the blue silk shirt. Reassured, Clark laid the white sweater, neatly folded, on an end table and gently shut the bedroom door.
He had been tempted to take the sweater home with him, but didn't think he could explain having done so when Lex came looking for it. He sped home and snuck up to his room, changing into jeans and a t-shirt before heading out to start his chores. He did them at a human pace, knowing he needed to keep himself occupied to avoid doing something crazy. After he finished his own chores he started on Jonathan's.
*********************************************************************
Lex woke feeling surprisingly refreshed. He stretched languorously and felt something silky brush his cheek. He opened his eyes in surprise and looked down in confusion at Clark's shirt, which he had been using as a pillow. Suddenly the memories of last night flooded his brain and he shot up out of the bed, horrified. He remembered feeling giddy after drinking Pete's punch. He had eaten a plate of food and waited for Clark to return from answering the door.
##### Flashback#######
Lex watched as Clark walked into the den. The boy made his way over to the food table and filled a plate. He grabbed a soda and began looking around for a place to sit. Lex was about to call out to him when he saw Clark zero in on Chloe, Pete, and Lana. With a sick feeling in his gut he watched Clark walk over and sit down with them causing the girls to giggle and whisper.
He stared without trying to hide it as the group laughed and talked. Then Chloe grabbed Pete and pulled him toward the dance floor leaving Lana alone with Clark. He felt a sudden strong urge to claw her eyes out with his fork to keep her from looking at his Clark so suggestively. He still had enough self-control at this point to realize that he'd better remove himself to a closet before he did something stupid.
He grabbed his glass of punch ('the stuff really was delicious') and headed out to the foyer. When he opened the door to the coat closet he was mildly surprised to see Chloe and Pete in a liplock. 'About damn time,' he thought, 'Those two have been sending eyefucks back and forth for months.'
He wandered off to find an empty closet and continued sipping his punch. He finally settled on the pantry as a place where Clark might not think to look for him. He thought and drank, drank and thought until his cup was empty. Then he noticed that he was fidgeting. He felt full of energy and the pantry, though large, felt claustrophobic. He decided he had calmed down enough to return to the party.
He entered the den and spotted Lana with a group of other teens, but found no trace of Clark. Feeling much more friendly toward Lana he made his way over to the group and said hello. Lana looked around behind him and responded distractedly, "I, uh, have to go look for someone," she said.
Lex's violent urges returned as he watched her wander off, obviously searching for Clark. He chatted with the group of teens and slowly his giddiness returned. Then he heard the opening notes of Pour Some Sugar on Me. He loved that song. He started dancing feeling incredibly sexy and confident. His new friends cheered him on as he climbed onto the bar and continued dancing. Then he decided it would be fun to strip. He had been to enough clubs to know just what was most provoking. He felt eyes all over him and loved the hot looks he was getting.
He teased the crowd singing the words as he lifted his sweater and then slid it back into place again and again. Finally he slid it sensuously over his head and began swinging it in circles. He looked out at the crowd and spotted Clark staring at him with heat filled eyes. He felt that intense gaze trailing over every inch of his body setting him on fire. He let go of his sweater and watched it land on Clark. He continued singing and dancing provocatively, but the rest of his audience disappeared. He was dancing only for the hunger in Clark's eyes.
He watched as Clark began unbuttoning his silk shirt and then leapt off the bar. As he closed the space between them Clark removed his shirt and threw it at Lex exposing skin that he longed to touch. He wrapped the shirt around his neck and inhaled the Clark scent, feeling dizzy. 'If only I could bottle that smell,' he thought. He reached out a hand and touched that smooth expanse of skin and muscle then felt himself fall forward into a welcoming blackness.
###### End Flashback######
What the hell had gotten into him? He hadn't touched a drop of alcohol all night. All he had was a whole lot of punch. Oh dear God the punch. He was going to find the kid who had spiked it and rip them limb from limb. Now that he thought about it he realized everyone at the party had been acting strange, including Clark. His saving grace was that Clark had been as drunk as he had and would probably not analyze his actions too much. He couldn't be sure of that though. He had to make sure Clark thought that his behavior last night had stemmed only from the punch and nothing more.
After a quick shower Lex threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and headed over to Clark's to try and gauge the boy's feelings about what had turned into the party of the century. As he drove he couldn't help but wonder why he didn't seem to be feeling any ill effects, other than the potential consequences of his actions, after having consumed what must have been enough alcohol to tranquilize a small horse. He couldn't remember ever having been as trashed as he had been last night.
When he arrived he headed straight for the Fortress of Solitude. He had no desire to see Jonathan Kent today. He knew if Clark was not already out in the barn he would be eventually. "Clark?" he called as he made his way up the steps, "Clark? Are you here?" Receiving no answer he looked around the room, but found no indication that Clark was there.
Lex wondered what Clark thought about the events of the night before. Would he be angry? Would he try to pretend all was well out of some Clarklike desire not to hurt his feelings? If only he could observe Clark unnoticed to get an idea of his true feelings. Then he realized that that was entirely possible. All he had to do was find a hiding place and watch Clark when he arrived to determine his mood. Then he could step out and talk to Clark without fearing he was being "protected."
He looked around for a spot and finally decided on a corner partially obscured by boxes. The boxes would conceal his presence as long as no one looked too closely, but allowed him a clear view of the entrance and the couch where Clark usually sat. He settled himself Indian style awaiting Clark's return. Before long he heard familiar footsteps and moved to his knees to get a better view. Clark entered the loft looking tired and disturbed. Lex envisioned torturing the punch spiker into a slow, agonizing death.
"Omigod-omigod-omigod-omigod. What the HELL is wrong with me? What was I thinking? I have to stop. This is CRAZY," Clark groaned and hit himself on the forehead repeatedly. "You have to stop thinking about Lex this way Clark. He's your best friend. You're being a pervert!"
Lex's eyes widened and his mouth hung open. Clark was thinking perverted thoughts about him. For a moment he felt a rising tide of joy. Then it hit him. Clark didn't want to think perverted thoughts about him. Clark was still drunk. 'Shitshitshitshitshit,' he thought. If Clark discovered his presence now he wasn't sure he could avoid doing something they'd both regret. Clark was breathing raggedly and pounding on his head with his fists. Lex began to worry the boy might hurt himself.
"Oh, what the hell," Clark sighed rubbing his hands over his face. Then he reached down and removed his t-shirt tossing it onto the floor. Lex had a moment of confusion before Clark lay back on the couch and started running his fingers gently over the tight muscles of his abdomen and then higher flicking his nipples.
Lex realized that his thoughts Wednesday night about Clark never having masturbated were completely ludicrous. He was teasing himself with a practiced hand and Lex's response was immediate and visceral. A small part of him wanted to disappear. He wasn't sure he could watch this and still keep himself in check. The rest of him thanked whatever gods were smiling down on him for this once in a lifetime opportunity.
Clark's hand slid lower and unzipped his jeans removing his hard cock. Lex squeezed his hands tightly on his thighs to keep from touching himself. He couldn't afford to lose control or Clark might see him. Later though. . . Before he could get caught up in fantasy he focused on the reality in front of him. Clark rubbed his fingertips lightly over every long, hard inch of his erection before wrapping his hand around himself and stroking. Lex felt a jump in his groin and bit his lower lip to keep from crying out. He wished he had worn sweatpants instead of jeans.
Clark stroked faster and faster thrusting his hips into his fist and moaning. As he came, covering his chest in ribbons of liquid heat, he cried out, over and over, "Lex! Lex! Oh, God LEX!" At the sound of his name on Clark's lips Lex exploded wetting his jeans, but barely able to care. It was the best orgasm he'd ever had and he'd never even laid a hand on himself.
Clark reached an arm up and yanked a blanket off the back of the couch. He snuggled down into the cushions and began to snore. Lex waited until he was sure the boy was deeply asleep before sneaking quietly past the couch and out of the barn. As he climbed into his car and headed back to the mansion he thought, 'Innocent farmboy my ass.'