Title: Burn
Author: Kelandris the Mad
Fandom: Smallville, first season-ish
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: PG-13 for language, NC-17 for everything else
Status: posted near the end of May 2006; written (all but the ending) five years previous
Archive: my site only, unless you want to archive it elsewhere; in that case, let me know where.
Feedback: Kelandris
Series/Sequel: I write so little CLex, it's very sad. But I think 'yes' and 'most likely' are probable answers to the series question. Though not for a while, yet.
Disclaimers: Not many. Clark being the Big Dumb Alien. Lex being aggressive. The usual.
Summary: Somewhere between the homecoming dance and the bonfire, something changed for Clark. And Lex just happened to be around when it did.
Warnings: Boykissing, most likely. Boylusting. And along the way we got into boyfucking, and anal play, and a *really* long shower scene, and...yeah. It’s *definitely* NC-17 for those.
Oh, and: Don't sue me. I have this computer (which I got for free), a couple nifty pairs of pants I made, and a silver Terminator skull keychain. I really have little else of serious interest. All rights reserved to Millar and Gough and anyone else interested.
"Burn"
by Kelandris the Mad
The fire sparked, and a live coal jumped from the glowing log, leaping for Lana’s hair. Everyone had heard the fire crack, but so far no one had turned and Clark didn’t think, just didn’t think. He reached out, eyes wide, and caught the coal.
Lana, sensing something out of the ordinary, turned, and Clark quickly shoved the coal behind his back, gripping his fist around it. It felt...okay, fine, hot, it felt hot, but like...standing out in summer sun hot, standing by the heat vents hot, not...burning a hole through his hand to the bone hot. It felt...good. It felt nice.
**Score one more for the Wall of Weird, Chlo,** he thought, but said nothing. He bit his lips instead, flushing, pasting on something he hoped was a smile. Lana blinked, looking quizzical.
"Hey. Lana," he said, shrugging his shoulders for reasons known only to God.
Lana quirked her nose at him, tilting her head.
"Clark," she said, her voice amused, and he watched her watch him shrug again. She laughed, a little, and moved away, and Clark breathed out the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.
Fine; everyone on the other side of the fire. Chloe and Pete were daring Whitney to do *something*, Clark couldn’t make out what, and right now didn’t want to. He whirled to the fire, throwing the coal hard enough away from him that the big log it struck snapped in half. Sparks blazed up, flames flickered, and when they cleared...he saw Lex, standing on the other side of the fire.
"Clark," he said, in that tone that was half challenge, half caress, and God, did Lex *know* what that tone *did* to him? Was that why he used it? Was that--
--and the penny dropped. The coal. The fire. He’d been holding the coal. Had Lex--
He looked up, panicked, and Lex’s eyes were dark. Darker than usual, and half-shut, as if Lex was going to fall asleep, or--
--or not. The way his chest was rising and falling, the...*heat* behind his eyes...It wasn’t just the fire.
"Lex?" he asked. He sounded shaky and unsure, and okay, if Lex had seen what he *thought* he’d seen, okay, he *felt* shaky and unsure, but...His eyes widened as Lex walked around the fire.
God. He looked...*unhinged*. No--not *unhinged*, not precisely, more...*uncontrolled*. Like he was seeing beyond all the barriers Lex threw up between them, between him and the rest of the world, between him and his father. Like he was actually...*seeing Lex*.
And Lex still hadn’t said anything. He just stood there, watching him, watching him like Lex wanted to tear him into strips and swallow the pieces.
Clark bit his lip harder. "Lex...say something."
Lex opened his mouth, closed it again. His eyes got darker. "Come with me," he finally said, and turned, and walked away from the fire, off into the field, and Clark followed, wondering why. This wasn’t--this wasn’t *like* Lex, not at all, and yet--
--he’d seen him. He’d seen him hold the coal. Oh, God, who was he going to tell? What was he going to say? How bad would it--
"With the fire," Lex suddenly said, turning so fast Clark ran into him. Lex didn’t step back, still breathing hard, now breathing hard against his chest. He splayed both hands against his chest, the fingers idly stroking in circular patterns, and Clark shuddered like a racehorse, all his muscles twitching. Lex--Lex who never touched anything, who rarely allowed anyone to touch him--Lex was touching him. *Touching* him.
"I did--see you holding the coal?" He looked up, and licked his lips, and it took every single ounce of willpower in Clark’s body not to lean down, and kiss them. Pale coral pink, and glistening now in reflected starlight, and there was an odd glitter in Lex’s dark eyes, and...oh God, who was watching from the fire?
Then he remembered. What Lex had asked.
**Oh, crap.** He inhaled deeply, plastering Clark Stupid Face #1 on. **Make this good, Kent, or you’re dead.**
"Lex," he said, trying to sound casual. "I don’t think--"
"Good," Lex said. He stepped back, and Clark almost fell forward from the lack of that wonderful pressure against him.
"Don’t. Follow me." And he turned, and started walking again.
About the time Clark realized he was heading for Lex’s car, Lex had started to slow down. When they reached it, for a moment he just leaned against the driver’s side door, taking in huge breaths and releasing them.
Clark stepped in, nervous, swallowing. "Lex--are you--are you--?"
Lex said nothing, and Clark touched his back lightly.
That quickly, he was pressed against the driver’s side door, wondering dizzily just who had the superpowers around here. But then it didn’t matter, nothing mattered, maybe nothing ever would again, because Lex was pressed against him again, and Lex was--oh, God, Lex was *hard*, he could *feel* him, pressing urgently against his hip.
Lex pushed forward, rolling his hips in this lush little circle, and Clark’s eyes crossed. Oh, man, this was *so* much better than stories on the ‘net...Lex was still breathing hard, staring at him.
"Do you want to go?" Lex asked. His voice danced over Clark as if Lex had actually touched him, and he shivered. He couldn’t help it--he reached out, touching Lex’s lips softly, stroking fingers down his jawline, touching his throat. His skin was so soft. Lex moaned, so quietly that if Clark hadn’t been listening for it he would have missed it, and closed his eyes.
Oh, man...Lex was so...beautiful. Clark wasn’t sure that was a word he was supposed to use with guys, but then, he was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to want Lex, either. For every single reason his dad would quote to him, and *so* many more. But...God, Lex was so *hard*...
"Go where?" he asked plaintively.
Lex curled his lips back, almost snarling. His hands came up, the fingertips running along Clark’s jaw, moving over his lips. Like the reverse of what he’d just done. Clark shivered again.
"Back there," Lex said.
At the bonfire. With half of Smallville looking on. Clark standing there with Stupid Expression #2, playing at being the Normal American Teen. Yeah. He nearly nodded, but he thought that might be interpreted as him wanting to go back, so he was going to shake his head, and then thought, *that* might be misinterpreted. And he guessed he’d just stood there too long, looking stupid, because Lex did that nearly-snarling thing again, clenching his hands into Clark’s flannel shirt.
"With *them*," Lex hissed, as if his friends, his town, were the alien species, not Clark. Like Lex put him and Lex together on one side of some vast war Clark couldn’t even comprehend the scope of, and the rest of the world was only...tactical advantage, pawns to trade with, not *real*. Not *human*.
Except--Clark wasn’t human, was he? Only--Lex didn’t know that.
**But Lex saw you hold the coal--**
God. Oh, God. Oh--
"No," he whispered. No. Whatever this was, whatever Lex was doing, he--he wanted to--
He shook his head, shaking the thoughts away. "Are you--" he started, and Lex pinned him against the door again, doing that not-quite growling thing with his voice. He leaned in, firelight from the far field outlining the back of his skull like an orange halo. It was eerily beautiful, and Clark couldn’t look away.
Lex bent his head, and Clark felt small puffs of heated air on his throat, and shivered. God, he wasn’t cold, why was he shivering?
**Because you like this, dumbass.** Yeah, okay, fine, even the growling bits. Can he at least admit that to himself? Well, apparently not without some serious mental arm-twisting. Oh...Lex was still hard against him, and now...he was pressing in, *grinding* them together, and...*crap*, now *he* was getting hard against *Lex*--
"Shut. Up," Lex said carefully. Clark only nodded, now a little afraid. Lex stepped back, releasing him, clicking open his car doors, and Clark walked to the other side, as smoothly as he could, getting in.
Then--apparently he’d forgotten what Lex said already--he turned to Lex, leaning forward.
"Um, Lex, I--"
And Lex viciously closed the driver’s side door, leaned over, and kissed him, slipping his tongue in between lips gone suddenly slack, pulling Clark’s tongue around his, licking at his palate, flicking his teeth with the tip. Now Lex wasn’t the only one breathing hard, and as soon as Clark moaned, reaching for Lex...Lex leaned back, breaking it off.
He stared straight forward, starting the car.
"Say another word, Clark, and I’ll take you home," he said grimly.
**Okay,** Clark thought, and leaned into the leather seat, knotting his hands together in his lap with the sheer effort it was taking right now not to touch Lex.
It was five minutes, it was ten years, before they got to the castle. He kept sneaking looks at Lex, and a muscle in Lex’s jaw jumped every time he did, almost as if Lex *knew* when he was being watched. But he didn’t say anything. He just looked, and thought, and remembered the coal, and remembered Lex kissing him.
They pulled up to the gates, Lex clicking a button on the dash. Clark watched as the gates slowly opened. Soon they were in the driveway, actually pulling around to the side, where the garage was. Lex clicked another button, and the garage door rose soundlessly, Lex slipping inside almost as soundlessly, parking next to five other cars that all gleamed and sparkled.
Lex left the car, not even looking back, and Clark slowly got out. He stood for a moment, blinking as the garage door engaged, folding the night away behind its metal pleats.
"Well?" Lex said. Gutteral, rough, it barely sounded like his voice at all. Clark had to fight to keep from jumping, but he turned, and saw Lex on the stairs.
Lex was looking at his hands.
Clark blinked, looking down at them himself. What was...they were just hands. Little smudge of grease on one finger, where he’d accidentally dropped the tractor on himself when he overbalanced it. Hadn’t hurt, had just been inconvenient. He’d torn his shirt, and *that* was going to make his mom raise holy hell with him come Sunday. And there was a little soot on the other, must’ve been where the coal had--
*The coal*. His eyes widened. God, how had he forgotten? Lex had kissed him, and the whole thing had--
He looked up. Lex looked nearly vindicated. Dear God, what was his face doing now? Honestly, some day he was going to get a big mirror and practice expressions in front of it until he was sure he had them right, because--
Lex smiled, a brittle, fractured smile, and walked into the house.
"Come on," he said, and Clark followed. Slowly.
He walked through the house like he’d never come in from the garage before. He didn’t do it often, but there had been more than a few summer days he’d walked in this way. Mudroom, kitchen--to which there was a side entrance, the one he had the key to, so he could deliver produce--hallway. Down a few steps, Lex’s office. It was dark. Yeah, he’d been pretty sure this wasn’t an office visit. Down a few steps to where he’d seen Lex fencing with Heiki a few times. Not there. Down a few more steps to--
The study. Of course. He’d known that, really.
By the time he walked into the study, Lex had a fire going. Or maybe there’d been one going when he left. There was a little bottle on the side table, blue, but it didn’t look like his normal water bottle. And there was a--
"Um, Lex--" he started, shaking his head. Lex only smiled.
"What, Clark?" And he picked up the box of fireplace matches from the table. Now he sounded rational again. Or--no, there was still that strange tension in his voice, and his eyes were still dark.
"I don’t think--"
"You still don’t think?" Lex smiled, folding easily to the floor, setting the box of matches down. "Maybe I’m thinking enough for both of us."
Clark stood, uncomfortable now. And remembered Lex kissing him. Without explanation, without really understanding why--only he *knew* why, at least, he knew why *he’d* kiss Lex if their positions had been reversed. And--
"Sit down, Clark."
He sat. Wondering why he was suddenly obeying everything Lex said. It was his voice, maybe. Darker, deeper than his normal voice, and he was still taking in these huge breaths, releasing them slowly, watching him like...He’d seen Molly, the Ross’s farm cat, stalk mice before, in their barn. She watched the mice like this.
He swallowed, biting his lips again. Man. He was gonna have to start thinking about some *really* boring things soon, or these jeans were gonna become *really* tight--
"Take off your shirt, Clark."
Oh, that *really* wasn’t helping.
"What?" **Yeah, Clark, like he really needs to repeat that. C’mon, you’re not *that* stupid.**
He swallowed again, and Lex tilted his head. Firelight gleamed off the pale skin, tinting him orange for a moment.
"Take. Off. Your. Shirt," he explained patiently.
"Why--?" he asked instinctively. But he was taking it off, pulling it out of the waistband of his jeans even as he asked, pulling it over his head. The flannel outer shirt he’d been wearing over it was mostly bundled inside the shirt now, and he tossed the ball of fabric to the side.
"Good," Lex said. He raised up on his knees, grabbing the blue bottle, and crept forward. The matches he just nudged with one knee, the wooden lengths rattling inside, making Clark jump a little. Lex only smiled, sharp-edged, and uncapped the bottle.
He sat again, folding his legs to one side, and poured a dollop of...whatever it was...into his hands. Setting the bottle aside, he brought his hands together, smoothing the liquid around. Both palms gleamed in firelight when he opened his hands.
Definitely not water. Then--
And Lex touched him again, smoothing his hands across his chest, and Clark stopped thinking. Warm on his chest, warm and fluid, and the scent of apricots and almonds filled the air. Some kind of...oil? It smelled too good to be cooking oil. And then he was drowning again in Lex’s hands on his skin, Lex’s fingers moving over his chest, across his nipples, and he inhaled sharply, arching into the touch.
"Hmm," Lex said, looking at him. "You’d better move the rug."
Clark blinked for a moment, having slight trouble translating the words into English. He looked down at the patterned Berber run they sat on.
"Why--?" he asked again, but then got up, watching Lex rise and step back. He leaned down, grabbing the edge, and moved the rug. He was so out of his depth at the moment, he couldn’t decide whether this should be a hard task or not. Just a throw rug. Okay, half-a-room-sized throw rug, but still...But it didn’t matter. Not if it meant Lex was going to touch him again. And why exactly was Lex touching him? Why--?
"Come back," Lex said, his voice rough again, and struck a match.
"Lex?" And, oh, *man*, he *hated* when his voice trembled. Lex just looked at him.
**Oh, yeah, *you* can be calm, you jerk.** But he tossed the rug into a lump of accordioned pleats, and came back. He sat down on the bare flagstones, staring at the flame burning slowly down the wood of the match. He swallowed.
"Okay, Lex. What--"
"Shhh," said Lex. And touched the flame to his chest.
Clark didn’t think, he couldn’t think, he just sat there, watching as flames licked over his chest. Once thought kicked in, he inhaled, his eyes widening hugely, and he really thought he would have bolted from the house then, but Lex looked up and shook his head.
Just once. One shake. And for some reason, he stopped. He swallowed, and bit his lips, but stopped. Sat there. Looked down. Watched his chest burn.
Not even a faint scent of burning hair, not that he had much hair on his chest anyway, and...Lex smiled a little, watching the flames flicker and die.
"Does it hurt?" And, ridiculous, now, to hear it, but his voice seemed...gentler somehow, his eyes warmer. How stupid was that?
But Clark only shook his head, wondering what he could say. He and Lex watched the flames slowly dying down, having eaten all the available oil, and not being able to burn his skin. Or his hair.
Clark swallowed. Oh, no. Oh, this was *so* bad--
"Lay down," whispered Lex.
"What? But--"
"Lay down, Clark."
He laid down, his back flat against cold paving stones, and shivered a little, as his parents had told him to. Over and over they’d told him. "This is cold, honey." "This is hot." "This is how you have to act." Over and over until it wasn’t an act, until he didn’t have to think about it, but he was kind of out of his depth here, being formerly on fire and all. He wasn’t sure how to react or what to--
"Take off your pants."
He sat up on his elbows, blinking.
"What?"
Lex leaned over him, then, looking down at him. Now he could faintly, so faintly make out the thin edge of blue-grey ringing Lex’s dark pupils. One of Lex’s oiled hands moved across his chest, across his belly, dipped just under the edge of his waistband, and Clark moaned. Lex leaned in a little more, extending his tongue, licking the bow-curve of his lips, pulling Clark’s lower lip between his and sucking on it briefly.
"Take off your pants, Clark." Murmured against his lips in between little lizard-flicks of Lex’s tongue between them.
Right. His hands moved down and began unbuttoning, cursing the morning’s choice of button-down fly. Finally, though, all the buttons were undone, and he lifted his hips, pushing his jeans down. Lex helped, catching the waistband of his underwear, and pulling them down along with it. Clark almost didn’t notice until his jeans snagged on his shoes, and he sat up on his elbows again, looking down.
Lex moved down, patiently untying his work boots, pulling them off, pulling off his socks and tucking them into his boots, and easing off his jeans one leg at a time.
"Lex!" he cried out.
Lex looked over and stopped breathing. Then he inhaled, hugely, as his eyes traveled up and down Clark’s frame. That was the second time Clark would have grabbed up his clothes and made a run for the door, if Lex hadn’t hitched out a sound, reaching for Clark’s--
Oh. God. Lex was going to touch him *there*--
Lex wrapped his fingers around his cock, teasing it quickly from the half-hard state into full, weeping hardness. Somewhere in that--Clark was having trouble focusing--Lex had poured more of the oil into his hands, and then...oh, God, the wonderful, slippery, *slick* sensation of smooth hands, rubbing oil into him. Up and down, fingers curling around him, down into the mass of dark curls, saturating them, down underneath to cup his balls and Clark arched up again, crying out--
And Lex soothed him, whispered things he didn’t catch, pouring more oil on his hands and smoothing his palms over his inner thighs, over his belly, parting his legs. Clark was nearly beyond rational thought of *any* kind. Lex slipped fingers down between his legs, probing, pushing, Clark breathing hard now, biting his lips until he was sure even *they* would bruise, and Lex was--Lex was--
"Oh, GOD!" He arched up, keening, thrashing his head on the stones.
"Shhh, Clark, shhh," Lex said, sounding remarkably calm for someone with a finger teasing around the rim of his best friend’s hole.
Clark trembled, muscles in his thighs jumping, thought whiting out as his eyes fluttered shut. Oh. God. Lex. Lex touching him. Lex...oh God, *Lex*--pushing *inside* him, slippery little fingers teasing at him, probing at him, slipping inside--
"Oh, God--oh Lex--"
"Shhh," he said, and pulled his hand free. And then he was gone. Clark sat up on his elbows again, looking around the room, and saw Lex over at the bar. He grabbed a bottle of cognac, turning, and that was the first time Clark noticed Lex was *seriously* aroused. It did seem to make walking difficult, but Clark thought Lex might be the only guy *capable* of walking with a full erection, at *all*.
Lex uncorked the dark glass bottle, taking a deep swallow of cognac, shaking his head and smiling a sharp little smile. He raised his moth-antennae eyebrows, offering the bottle, and dumbly, Clark shook his head.
"Okay," Lex whispered, and poured cool cognac over Clark’s cock. Then Clark heard the sound of another match striking.
"Lex--wait--"
But Lex only shook his head, and brought the flame down.
This time, he ignited with a little *poof* of displaced air, and the flames were blue and gold. Licking down the length of his cock, and now there was a sharp smell on the air--that must be the cognac burning. Still no scent of burning hair, and man, oh man, how was he supposed to explain that? Clark felt his lips twitch, knowing he couldn’t think his way out of this one as fast as Lex could rationalize it.
Lex watched him avidly, watched his face, and licked his lips.
"Does it hurt?"
Clark just shook his head again. It should hurt, though, shouldn’t it? Anyone else...oh, man, he was giving away so *much*, here...but Lex wasn’t asking. Lex hadn’t asked, other than to ask if it hurt. Then, what was all this--
Lex trailed patterns in oil up his inner thighs, pouring cognac in a glittering trail from the source of the flames out to his knees, and the flame obediently followed. The cognac dripped into a small pool underneath Clark, and some of the flames caught it, and fire was licking between his legs.
Clark gasped, and Lex pushed his legs farther apart, watching.
"Does it hurt now?"
Flames. Blue flames, licking over his balls, licking over his...he didn’t have to see it, he could feel it, and it was starting to feel good...more than warm, more intense, the skin more sensitive now, and his cock was throbbing, heavy, and he was having trouble breathing--
"Clark," Lex said. Clark blinked, opening his eyes. Lex had taken his suit jacket off, smothering the flames with it.
"No--" Clark said. His voice sounded...thick, rusty. Obscurely, Lex burning his jacket was more hurtful than Lex learning his secrets. He had *no* idea why.
"Don’t--you’ll--ruin your suit--"
"Clark," Lex said, and now Clark got worried. His voice--there was still that dark thread, that urgent note, but now Lex sounded--fractured. "I can buy another jacket."
"But--"
He laughed, moving away, and the room seemed darker, somehow, now that he wasn’t providing part of the illumination. And even his laughter sounded broken.
"I think I need to get seriously drunk."
"What? Why?"
Lex looked up, watching him out of hooded eyes.
"Well, for starters, I just set my best friend on fire. Because I *wanted* to. That works for now."
All the air left Clark’s lungs, and he was gasping suddenly, hearing it said out loud. **He’s right. He just--he just set me on fire. And I let him. And I--and I *liked* it. Oh--God, no--**
When he opened his eyes again, Lex must have gotten up, because he was sitting in the chair and there was a full glass in his hands. His eyes were closed now, and he was sipping carefully, delicately, but constantly.
"You should--I’m sorry, Clark, I am, but you should probably--go home."
Clark blinked. Realized for the first time that he was naked. Thought for the third time that night about just flying from the house, running like only he could, getting the hell away from Lex’s ideas and Lex’s pauses and Lex’s--
His body seemed to have other ideas. He crept close to Lex, trembling, lacing his fingers together over one knee, resting his chin on his hands.
"Clark?" Lex asked, startled.
"Do you really--want me to leave?" he asked softly. His cock ached, his skin ached for Lex’s touch, but--there was more going on here. He couldn’t stand that fractured tone in Lex’s voice.
Lex looked down. Moved the glass to his right hand and leaned forward, closer to Clark. He ruffled fingers that were still slightly oil-slick through his hair.
"No, I really don’t," he said. Gently, like he was trying to talk one of Lana’s horses into calming down. "That’s probably why you should."
Clark swallowed, moving one of his hands as far as his courage lasted--halfway up Lex’s thigh, curling around the fabric and the skin beneath, listening as Lex’s breathing changed.
"What if--" **Oh, God, don’t say it, don’t, don’t, don’t say it--**
"What if I don’t want to go?"
**Just great, Clark,** Pete’s voice said in his head. **Throw normal *right* out the window.**
He suspected that’d happened at the bonfire earlier, though. Or maybe fifteen years ago. Maybe he’d *never* had a chance to be normal. Maybe--
Lex carefully set the glass down.
"This is--not the best night, Clark. I’m not as patient as I should be. And--I find I don’t want to hear you lie to me. About--anything. I...it’s not the best night."
Clark leaned back, looking at Lex.
"What if--what if I didn’t lie?"
Before he had time to react, his arms were full of Lex, who’d slipped out of the chair like an otter, boneless, and into his arms. His fingers were clenched in his hair and his eyes were wild again and he was pressed against him, pressed close, breathing hard. His shirt was rumpled and his cock was *hard*, so *hard* against him, and he groaned again, thrusting upward, watching Lex bite his lip.
Clark shivered. The scarred one. The scar he’d always wanted to ask about, and now Lex’s teeth were worrying at it like it kept him focused, kept him from doing--
Clark blinked. From doing--what? *Him?* He shuddered again and Lex’s gaze flew back to him, dark, intense, shadowed.
"Don’t--don’t joke about that, Clark, don’t--not tonight, not *tonight*--"
"I’m--I’m not joking."
**Or--at least--I think I’m not.**
"Shhh," Lex said, holding his face still. "Shhh, don’t, don’t speak, don’t--"
And Lex kissed him again, pulling him close, murmuring something he couldn’t catch against his mouth. Clark kissed him back this time, and it was good, it felt good kissing Lex, it felt...*right*...somehow. He brought his hands up, feeling the thin silk of his shirt under his palms, the sharp shoulder blades underneath, and swept his hands up to the back of Lex’s neck, tucking his thumbs behind Lex’s ears.
Lex shivered in his arms, breaking off the kiss.
"Clark..." he breathed.
"You should..." He bit his lip again, looking away, looking down. "You should have less clothes on, right about now."
In answer, Lex brushed his fingers over his lips, and then stood.
"Come upstairs," he said, nearly whispering.
"Okay."
And it almost seemed normal, then, walking behind Lex. Clark naked and oiled in spots, cock bobbing impatiently against his belly, Lex still clothed save for the jacket. Or maybe Clark had just...stopped thinking, sometime back when flames were licking across his thighs, around his--
He shivered, watching as Lex stopped in front of a door. He’d been in Lex’s bedroom once, last year, and they’d gone in to track down one of his comics. Some stupid Warrior Angel-Devilicus controversy he’d wanted to settle. It seemed *really* childish now.
It hadn’t changed much, in a year. Dark wood paneling, crisp bed linens in grey and lilac, dark wood furniture. Posters on the bed, and Clark’s mind seized, suddenly, imagining him and Lex on that bed, pushing the covers down, pushing Lex’s shirt down his arms--
He blinked, shaking the image away. Lex wasn’t walking to the bed anyway. He was walking to the back door, beyond the cases holding Warrior Angel figures, and when Lex opened the door, stepping through, he heard the click of Lex’s shoes on tile.
Bathroom? Confirmed, of course, when he walked through the door, and saw Lex loosening his tie, leaning into the shower enclosure and turning on the jets.
Whoa. Yeah. More than one showerhead. That was cool. Dazed, he started to look around, and snorted without even thinking.
"What?" Lex asked absently, unbuttoning his shirt.
"Man, your bathroom’s bigger than our *kitchen*..."
Lex smiled quirkily, something almost close to his usual grin. "Not quite," he said softly. He unfastened his pants, still turned away, and pushed them down his hips, toeing off his shoes and socks at the same time.
God. He was so pale. Pale all over, like the sun never touched him. Pale, and smooth...about the time the smoothness of Lex’s legs connected with his bald head, he turned, and Clark stopped thinking again.
One place on him had color, a vibrant red length of it, jutting proudly, smoothly, from his body. Clark’s mouth started watering just looking at it, and now he was biting his *own* lip, trying not to whimper.
Right. He was about as far from normal right now as it got. Man, he couldn’t just have superpowers, no, he had to *like guys too*, and in *Kansas*, even, and then he gets hit by this car driven by the most beautiful man he’d ever seen, and that was when he was *wearing* clothes--
Clark whimpered again, watching Lex watched forward. He looked down when Lex picked up one of his hands, turning it over. About the time he realized he’d been clenching his fists, his fingernails cutting neat little crescents into the heels of his palms, he realized Lex was holding *that* hand, the hand with the circle of soot from holding the coal. Which he was now carefully washing away, grabbing a washcloth from the large sink next to him and wetting it with warm water.
"You know, most people would have stopped when they drew blood."
"Yeah..." he whispered. Lex tugged him forward, turning the water on and running his hand underneath it. Then he lifted Clark’s hand to his lips, kissing each of the little wounds and...
Clark whimpered again. He was...*sucking* on them. Sucking on *him*, and...oh, man, was his blood--poisonous or something? Was it--?
"Other hand, farmboy," Lex said, his smile wry. "Let’s see how much damage you did."
"I--I didn’t--"
Lex only shook his head, lifting the other hand, delicately licking along the wounded skin.
"You shouldn’t get so tense. Or you should file your nails more often. I’m not sure which."
Clark opened his mouth to speak and Lex’s open face seared across his vision. **God. No lies. No lies. I promised. I *promised* him. I did.**
"It’s just...I never thought we’d get this far, Lex."
Lex looked up at that, raising his eyebrows.
"Where? The bathroom?"
Clark shook his head. "No. Just...do you even *know* how good you look?"
"How good I--? Clark, now, really. I thought you told me you weren’t going to lie anymore."
"I’m not lying."
"Trust me," Lex said, and in his voice was old hurt, and older suffering, and fresh sarcasm to cover them both. "I know what I look like. The mirror is very exact."
"Well, maybe you need a new mirror, Lex." He leaned in, pulling his hand away, and tilted Lex’s chin up so he could stare into those storm-grey eyes. "You’re so...I keep having to remind myself to breathe, you know? Because I’m standing here in the same room with the most beautiful man I’ve *ever* seen, and if he doesn’t kiss me again, real soon, I might have to..."
He stopped, swallowing, his mouth dry. Oh, man. This was *Lex* he was talking to. Lex, who just set him on fire. Lex, who knew more about him than he was entirely comfortable with. But this was also his best friend, and the man he’d saved, and the man he’d defended he couldn’t think how many times now to his friends, to his father, to the town--and...
Lex breathed out, and Clark shuddered, feeling the air on his face.
"You’ll what, Clark?" he asked.
Clark swallowed again.
"I might have to beg," he whispered.
Lex looked at him, tilting his head. It seemed to take a really long time, and Clark shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to be brave. Trying not to look away. Trying not to lie, because he’d *promised*, and what were promises good for, if--if--
Lex was still looking at him.
"...Lex?" he finally asked. Not really sure what the question was.
"You’re not lying," Lex said, softly. Edge of fracture still in his voice, but passing away. Clark was so relieved, and then nervous all over again, because Lex calm, Lex relaxed...he remembered the fire downstairs, and the blue flames licking at his thighs, and shuddered all over.
"Cold?"
"I--"
*This is cold, Clark.* *This is hot.* *When you feel this you have to act like you’ve been burned.* *When you feel this you have to act like you’re cold.*
"No," he said, but shuddered again anyway. Lex stepped close, and Clark drew in a huge, stuttered breath, because now they were skin to skin, and oh, *God*, it felt so *good*--
"Come on. I’ll make you warm."
Lex turned, stepping away, and now he *did* feel cold, or the presence of what might have been cold, in *normal* people--because Lex was gone, all that Lex skin was gone, he wasn’t touching him anymore, he was walking away--
--and starting the shower?
Lex raised one arm into the air, opening the shower door, floor-to-ceiling sheet of crystal-clear glass, which opened on what looked like another whole *room*, tiled in small grey and purple squares. He looked over his shoulder.
"Coming?"
**Jeez, I hope.**
Clark thought, and swallowed. He shook his head. Then he nodded. Lex quirked a half-smile in his direction, and stepped into the water.
"Come on, then," he said, through the sudden mist rising in the room.
**Oh, God, I can’t do this. I can’t do this. He’s your *best friend*, Kent, how many of those do you think you’ll *have* in one life, and *Pete* would not understand *any of this*--**
He stepped into the shower, arms wrapped around his chest, unsure what to do. He wasn’t *stupid*, he’d showered with other guys before, but generally, he didn’t want to *touch* them so badly--
Lex turned, graceful under water, sleek with it, and moved towards him. He laid his face against Clark’s chest and just moved it, back and forth, coating his face with traces of oil. When he lifted his face, it shone in the steam, and he was smiling.
Clark was uncomfortably reminded of Molly again.
"I’ll wash you clean," Lex said, and turned away. He repositioned six of the little showerheads, so that they sprayed along the wall, and picked up a coal-black bar of soap. Clark was confused for a moment, but Lex raised lather on the soap, and the bubbles were tiny, and white, looking like fresh cream. Well, with bubbles. He set the soap down and moved toward Clark again.
Lex was touching him, moving his hands in casual patterns over Clark’s chest, over his shoulders, unwrapping each arm from where Clark was clenching them, and covering them with creamy white bubbles. It was...ritualistic, almost, and Clark felt frozen--unable to move, unable to speak, just--letting Lex do what he wanted. Letting Lex. He didn’t know what to say, and Lex had stopped speaking, nearly stopped breathing, just--
Oh, God. Lex was going to his knees.
"Uh, Lex, you don’t have to--oh--oh, *God*--"
Lex was washing his cock, soaping up his cock, and his balls, working his fingers deep into the oil-soaked hair, and then--then turning him around--and--
"Oh..." Clark breathed. He braced himself on the wall, spreading his legs at Lex’s silent, guiding touches. He closed his eyes. Lex was soaping up his thighs, his calves, lifting each foot to soap it, and he could feel warm water rushing over his hands now, where they were braced on the wall. Lex leaned in, laying against his legs for a minute, and Clark looked down. Lex had his hands braced on the wall, water washing them free of soap, too. What did--
And then he knew *exactly* what Lex had planned, because Lex’s fingers--Lex’s smooth, soap-free fingers--were parting the cheeks of his ass again, and diving between them, and he couldn’t stop whimpering, shivering, eyes closing again. He tried to remember to breathe, but it was hard--*he* was so hard--
God. Oh, God. Was this happening? He caught a coal and now he got Lex, and Lex’s talented fingers, doing things to a part of him he was pretty sure would never, *ever* be touched by Lex like this? Maybe by *anybody* like this?
Three fingers, now. He was still slick with oil, inside, and it made Lex start growling again. Four fingers. Lex reached forward, pulling his hips around, so Clark was lying flat against the wall, and Lex growled at him to move the showerheads.
Clark did, with shaking hands. He turned and looked down, staring with wide eyes at Lex on his knees, staring at Lex staring at him--
Or, more precisely, his cock, which was still pretty hard, and Lex still had fingers in his ass, moving occasionally, making his thigh muscles jump. Water, hot water, ran over them both, and Clark wondered for a minute how big his hot water tank was, because they’d been in here a while, and--
"Fuck!" Clark screamed, because Lex had swallowed him whole.
Lex pulled his fingers out, and Clark clenched on emptiness, trembling, shaking, holding on to the wall of the shower and trying *desperately* to remember not to clench his fingers into the tiling, because that would be bad. That would be--
*Damn*, Lex was good at this. Clark felt his eyes crossing again, and he bent forward slightly from the waist, carefully moving his hands onto Lex’s water-warm skull. Bare skin, Lex’s bare skin, bare all over and oh, God, so *beautiful*--Lex’s lips wide around his cock, and he was sucking, sucking, and Clark could feel every single move of Lex’s tongue and it was so *beautiful*--
Lex pulled off, licking the tip of his cock, his cock jumping now, butting against Lex’s lips. Lex looked up, smiling.
"Eager, aren’t you?"
"I--Lex, I--I’ve never--"
"I wondered," Lex said, and his eyes went dark again, and Clark inhaled, watching him.
"Is it--bad, that I’m--I’m not--"
"Bad?" Lex asked. He smoothed both hands down the straining length of Clark’s cock. "No, not bad. *Illegal*, certainly, I could be arrested for this, but you know, I just don’t seem to care at the moment--"
Clark shivered, thinking of Lex in jail. It would be horrible. They’d kill him. They might do--do other things, first, and that would be worse. That would be--
"Ah!"
Lex scratched him again, root to tip, with the edges of his nails.
"You were wandering."
"I was...thinking," he said, swallowing.
"Of me? Or of someone else?"
The cynical look on Lex’s face hurt Clark, somewhere. Somewhere he really didn’t want to think about, right now, with Lex staring at his cock again, like it was Christmas morning and he’d gotten exactly what he wanted from Santa, but only because his father had paid Santa off, and--it hurt. That look *hurt*.
"You," he whispered. "You, Lex, I was thinking of you."
"Good, then," Lex whispered back, and licked him, root to tip, tongue swirling around the slit in the head. "I want you thinking of me." Another lick. "I don’t want you getting--distracted." Another lick, another swirl, his tongue probing inside the slit this time. Again. *Again*.
**Oh, God--**
"Lex, if you--if you keep that up, I’m going to--I’ll--"
"That’s the idea," Lex said, and swallowed him again. Heat and wet and pressure and oh, God, *watching* Lex do this, *watching* Lex’s eyes close, and the wide, reddened lips try to smile, and *more* pressure, and sucking, and God, oh God, oh *fuck* he was going to turn *inside out* on Lex’s *tongue*--
"Lex, I’m--Lex, oh, God, I’m going to---going to--"
"I want you to," Lex whispered, kissing the shaft, pumping the base once with his strong hands, licking him again. "I want you to. Come for me, Clark."
He swallowed him again, going all the way down, until the tip of his nose was nestled in the black curls at the base of Clark’s cock, and Clark moaned, seeing it. He thrust forward and tried not to, and Lex--*swallowed* around him, and--he couldn’t take any more, he felt his balls draw up, and his eyes rolled back, and, oh, God, this was *so* much better than his hand, at home, and his head afraid to dream of *exactly* this--
Clark came, crying out, crying Lex’s name, and Lex swallowed. And Clark was worried all over again--was he--could he kill people with his--with--
But Lex had tasted him already, swallowed his blood, and he wasn’t dead, or sick, or--
**Lex swallowed.** He thought he was going to fall down for a minute, and Lex stood up, holding him.
"Come back, Clark. Come back. Don’t pass out on me, not now."
Clark blinked, breathing hard. He opened his eyes.
"Hey, Lex," he said, and could have died on the spot. That sounded so *stupid*--
Lex only grinned.
"Hey, Clark."
"You must have a *really* big hot water tank."
"Are we really going to talk about my hot water tank?"
Clark shook his head.
"I’m just--um--I’m a little--"
"Freaked out? Disgusted? Thrown?"
"Thrown, yeah," he said, shaking water out of his hair. Then he looked up.
"I’m not disgusted, Lex."
"Really?"
"Really." He inhaled, thinking brave thoughts again, and slowly slid his arms around Lex, holding him close while water dripped down their hair.
"Can I--" Clark bit his lip, looking down--just a little--at Lex. Who had a little bruising around his lips, and Clark thought, guiltily, it was because he thrust forward that one time, and--
"Can you--?" Lex asked, his tone gentle, and teasing, and warm. God, so warm.
"Can I--kiss you?" Clark asked.
**He’s going to say no, he’s going to say no, he’s going to--**
"God, yes, Clark. Please," he said. He tilted his face up, half-closing his eyes.
Clark leaned down, shaking water out of his hair again, and touched his lips to Lex’s. They both inhaled at the same moment, and Clark leaned forward again, softly kissing Lex. Trying to be careful. Trying not to hurt Lex.
Lex moaned, a complicated, deep sound, and grabbed his head between his hands, Clark shivering again, remembering where those fingers had been, what they’d been doing.
"I won’t break," Lex growled, and kissed him back, *hard*. Clark flashed back to the car and the kiss there, and held Lex close, one hand moving to cup the back of Lex’s skull. His hand curving around Lex’s bare nape, and feeling Lex shudder in his arms. He kissed Lex back, fencing with his tongue, tasting the salt-sweet tang of himself in Lex’s mouth. God, *Lex*...
Lex pulled back first.
"We’ll drown if we don’t get out of here. You want your hair washed?"
"I, um...sure," he said. "Lex..."
"Hmm?" He turned away to get a dark brown bottle, opening it and smelling the contents. "No. I don’t think the lavender..."
"Why are you--doing this?"
"I want to?" he retorted, bringing back a dark green bottle, which filled the air with the scent of pine and something darker, something richer, as he poured out a dollop into his palm. The fluid was clear, and vaguely green, and he rubbed his palms together, gesturing to Clark to bend down and tilt his head.
"I *did* get oil in your hair, after all," he murmured, turning Clark to face the spray. He raised his hands, then, scrubbing them through his midnight hair, scrubbing until all the soap was gone and all he smelled was pine and...and whatever else was in that bottle. He turned to face Lex again.
"No, I mean *this*, all of this, *us*--why are you--"
"Shhh," Lex whispered, "it doesn’t matter."
Clark tried very hard to think, which wasn’t easy with Lex running his fingers across his chest, back into his clean hair.
"It does, Lex," he finally said. "Why now? Why today? Why--" He looked down, blinking. Lex looked away.
"It wasn’t *today*," Clark whispered. "It was *tonight*. You said...you said ‘don’t lie to me *tonight*."
Lex didn’t look up. He leaned in, resting his forehead on Clark’s chest.
"Leave it, Clark," he whispered.
Clark shook his head, feeling brave all over again. He tilted Lex’s chin up, looked in those dark eyes again.
"Why tonight?"
"You wouldn’t remember," Lex said. His lips quirked again, though his eyes weren’t smiling. "Martha might, though."
Clark thought again. He wasn’t stupid. But if it was something about Lex that only his mother would know? Why would only his mother know something about--only his--
**No,** Clark thought. **Not *my* mother.**
He said that aloud, looking down at Lex. "Not my mother. *Your* mother. What happened to your mother tonight, Lex?"
Lex closed his eyes, exhaling.
"She died," he murmured.
Lex stepped back, and Clark ached for him to return. He watched as Lex lifted his hand, reaching out to Clark.
"Come on. I’ll dry your hair."
He followed, after Lex shut off the water, and let Lex smooth water droplets from his skin, towel-dry his hair gently, before he looked back up at Lex.
"It matters, Lex."
Lex just shook his head, toweling him off. But he looked up, breathing out on a long, barely audible tone.
"All right. It matters. Happier?"
Clark shrugged, and watched Lex walk away from him. He reached back, grabbing Clark’s hand, and led him out to the bedroom. And Clark suddenly couldn’t breathe.
Lex looked over his shoulder.
"Clark? Are you--?"
Clark shook his head, blinking.
**Come on, you big idiot, *breathe*, he’s going to think you’re *five*, here--**
He’d had trouble, remembering to breathe all the time, when he was five.
Lex walked back towards him, his expression suddenly blank.
"You don’t want to--be here?"
Clark inhaled, hugely, trying to avoid it and not being able to. His eyes were wide, staring at Lex, trying to make sense of his face.
"No, Lex, *no*, that’s not what--I just--I--"
"Freaking out?"
There was the faintest of smiles, now, on Lex’s face, and Clark relaxed. A little.
"A little," he said. "Yeah."
"Don’t want to--"
"I want to, Lex--I *want* to, *God* yes, but--"
"But?"
Clark looked down. Big, bare feet. He still had a scrape across the top of the left one, where the thresher blade had fallen on his foot. He’d been stupid, and walked too close to it when it was on last week. It was in the shop now; the man said they were going to need a new blade. Plus, new shoes; his thrift-store Keds had gotten cut up pretty bad. He sighed, shrugging.
"You’re nervous?" Lex asked. His voice was softer than his skin.
"Wouldn’t you be?" he asked. "I don’t--I don’t know what to *do*, Lex, and I want--I want--"
"You want?"
He swallowed. **I want to make you happy,** he thought. **I want you never to smile again like it’s cutting you up inside. I want to fix everything wrong in your life, everything wrong in mine, and I want my dad to be okay with that. I want--**
He sighed. He couldn’t *say* that, *any* of that, not out loud. Big dumb freak alien.
But he could say something else, maybe. Might as well go all the way.
"You," he whispered. He swallowed again. He raised his eyes. "I want--*you*, Lex, *everything*, but--I don’t know how to do what you want, or what--how--*anything*, Lex, and you’re going to be *so bored*--"
"Clark," he said, his voice that rich caress again, and his eyes burned into Clark’s with an almost scary intensity. "I’m *anything* but bored. Trust me on this."
"Really?"
Lex laughed, a little, stepping closer. "Really."
Clark let out the breath he’d been holding. "Good. Because I--"
"You--?"
**Want to kiss you again,** but he didn’t say it. He just slid his hands up Lex’s bare arms, smooth bare arms, and over his sharp collarbone, careful not to bruise, not to dent, and up the sides of Lex’s neck, tucking his thumbs just under the line of Lex’s jaw, which he’d wanted to do for practically *forever*. Then he leaned in, kissing him, licking lightly across Lex’s upper lip, and lightly, so lightly, over the scar, before pulling back.
"Clark," Lex said. He sounded exasperated.
"I know you won’t break, Lex," Clark said. "But I want to be gentle, right now. Can’t I be gentle? With you?"
Lex was the one who swallowed, now.
"Yes," he said, his voice sounding strangled.
"Good," Clark said, and kissed him again. Lex grabbed him, his arms fierce and tight around him, but his lips were soft, his tongue flickering out to touch the tip of Lex’s tongue, and then retreat. Clark’s tongue followed his, gently, softly, licking his palate, along his teeth, sliding over the surface of Lex’s tongue. Lex moaned again, and stepped backwards, bringing Clark with him.
Clark laid out the room again in his head. Closet, behind and to the right. Bathroom, directly behind them. Bed--the bed was ahead of them, Lex was leading them to the bed.
He didn’t care, suddenly. He got to kiss Lex. He’d do anything to keep doing that.
Lex stopped when his legs hit the bed and pulled back, breathing hard. He was hard against Clark again, too--or maybe, *still*, because Clark suddenly remembered, *he* was the only one who’d come in the shower, not Lex. He watched him sit down, holding out one graceful, muscled arm.
"Clark?" Lex said. It was less than a command, more than a question. Clark grabbed Lex’s hand and sat down on the bed. God, he was beautiful. Hairless all over, and still beautiful. Fragile and pale and--and *male*, and still beautiful.
He realized he’d said that last line out loud when Lex laughed at him, softly.
"Oh, Clark."
"I’m not lying!"
"I know you think so, but--"
"I said I wouldn't lie. I won’t lie to you, Lex."
"What about tomorrow?"
Clark blinked, thinking about it. He bit his lip.
"I--"
"Oh, don’t worry, we’ll get through it." Lex smiled, and this one was wicked, and went right through him, causing flutters in his gut and lower.
"I’ll just take you to bed again. Fuck you ‘til you can’t stand up. Fuck you ‘til you can’t lie to me again."
"Promise?" Clark said, before he could bite the question back.
"Oh, yes," Lex told him, laying him back. "I promise." His hands drifted, scratching, stroking, tapping lightly, and Clark arched against them.
"You’re thinking of something else," Lex whispered, licking his ear.
"I--yeah," Clark said, hands clenching with the effort not to reach out, not to grab Lex hard enough to break something.
"Tell me."
"It’s stupid."
Lex smiled against his skin, blowing warm air on a nipple, licking the tip and blowing warm air across it again. Clark shivered, want like a flame inside him. Flame. Fire. Burning. Coal. Heat of the coal and the heat of Lex. Everything. All of it.
"Tell me anyway."
"You--when you--got the bottle--"
"The oil?" At Clark’s frantic head shake, he tilted his head, thinking. His fingers stroked an invisible line, two inches above Clark’s groin, and it was driving Clark insane. He thought Lex knew it, too.
"No, the cognac. When I got the cognac. Yes, Clark?"
Oh, God. He was going to make him *say* it. He was going to--
And Clark had promised. No lies. No lies tonight. He’d *promised*. *Damn* it.
"When you poured--cognac--on my--skin."
The fingers drifted half an inch lower. Still not close enough. *Fuck*.
"Your--*skin*. Yes, Clark."
"It was so--cold--for a minute."
The fingers moved. Another half inch. Clark strangled on a moan, and closed his eyes, and heard Lex laugh. Lex leaned down, licked his hip, making him jump.
"Yes, I imagine it was. And then?"
"And then--oh--you--lit the match and--"
"*Yes*, Clark..."
Lex’s low voice. Warmer than the memory of fire. Oh, God.
"It was so--*warm*."
"Shouldn’t that be 'hot', Clark?"
"Yes--no--oh, *you’re* hot, Lex..."
Lex laughed again, licked across his thigh, and Clark moaned again, twitching. The fingers drifted lower, and lower still, the back of Lex’s hand grazing the flesh of Clark’s cock. His fingers clenched tighter, his hands in fists on the coverlet of Lex’s bed, and he heard fabric tear.
His eyes flew open. "Oh God Lex I’m so sorry I’ll replace it I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m--"
Lex shushed him, leaning up, kissing him again, leaning him back.
"I don’t care. Don’t worry. You’re more important."
"I’m--but that was--expensive, I know, I can tell, it’s--"
"Just a thing. Things can be replaced."
"Yeah, but..."
Lex parted his legs and Clark stopped breathing again.
"Clark. Stay with me."
"With you," Clark said, breathing, gasping. He felt Lex’s fingers circling his hole again, and he writhed, throwing his arms up to clench together off the bed.
"That’s a good look for you," Lex purred.
"Hmm?"
"Stretched..." Lex moved, fingers sweeping up, legs straddling his hips. Lex thrust up, just a little, bringing their cocks together, and Clark moaned, arching again.
"Mmm," Lex said. He leaned down, ghosting kisses across his collarbone, up his neck, biting occasionally, making him jump.
"You’d look good in handcuffs, I think."
"Lex..." A whine, and Clark was mortified, but Lex only laughed again, breathily. He heard Lex reach over, get something, and move down his body. A new smell on the air--dark and rich, almost like chocolate but not quite--and Lex’s fingers were breaching him again, the other hand holding his legs open.
"Lex, oh, God Lex, *please*, Lex--"
"I’m here," Lex said, and Clark could feel him, the head of Lex’s cock pushing against him, pushing *into* him.
"Oh! Oh Lex--"
He had to open his eyes, he had to *see*, and he looked up, seeing Lex. Lex, looking so intent and driven as he slowly, *so* slowly, pushed inside Clark. He thought for a moment--should this be hurting? Should it feel bad at first? He’d never done it before, but everything he’d ever read made it sound like the first time hurt. A lot.
He couldn’t make the pain face, though, because Lex felt so *good* inside him. How could something that felt so good *hurt*?
Lex, apparently, was wondering the same thing.
"Are you--okay, Clark?"
"God, yes," Clark said. Instinctively, he clenched around Lex, and Lex hissed in a breath, ducking his head.
"Did I--?"
"My *God*," said Lex. "Do that *again*."
Clark closed his eyes and thrust up with his hips.
"You can--you can go faster, if you want to."
"You’re okay? It doesn’t hurt?"
He looked up, at Lex, and thought of all the things he could say. It *should* hurt, he could see it in Lex’s eyes, and he didn’t want Lex thinking--whatever it was Lex was thinking. But--no lies. He’d promised. He’d promised Lex, and he wasn’t going to lie to him now. Not tonight. Not when Lex was--
"No, Lex," he said. He swallowed. "It doesn’t hurt. It feels good. *You* feel good."
Lex drew out, almost all the way, and just--*hovered* over him, for a moment. "Are you sure?" he breathed, onto Clark’s skin. His arms were tense, muscles cording up with the effort of holding him still, over Clark.
"Yes. Please. Don’t--don’t stop, Lex, *please* don’t--*ohmygodohmygodLEX*!
Clark screamed his name when Lex thrust back in, setting up a punishing rhythm, lips curling back in a near-snarl, but such *joy* in his eyes Clark couldn’t stop looking at him, looking at him as if Lex, *this* Lex, was going to evaporate at any moment. Clark didn’t trust himself, couldn’t touch Lex, couldn’t do anything but thrust up to meet him, open his legs wider, arch up to meet him, throw his head back.
And Lex took advantage of it---grabbing his legs and holding them apart, leaning down, biting up his chest, biting *hard* where his shoulder sloped into his neck, *growling* against his throat. Moaning low in his own throat. Moaning Clark’s name.
Gasps turned into language and Clark tried desperately to pull his brain back from the mush Lex was pounding it into.
"...wanted this...wanted you...so long...Clark, my God, Clark, *Clark*...would’ve had you *sooner*...didn’t *tell* me...didn’t want to *know*...Fuck, Clark, *fuck*, I’m going to--wanted this to last longer--*FUCK*!"
And Lex was coming, coming inside him, and *now* Clark was worried about Lex maybe getting something from him, or if he could get something from Lex, except he was pretty sure Lex couldn’t give him anything, but what if--
And, oh, oh God, Lex was still *thrusting*, thrusting and coming, still *growling* at him. And *fuck* but that was so damned sexy...The *thought* of Lex inside him, inside *him* after all this time, and Lex’s fingers, trailing over the head of his cock, and he came again, crying out, coating Lex’s fingers, his belly, Lex’s belly, probably the *bed covers*--
Lex just sighed out, a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle, and slowly slid out of him, kissing his cheek. He moved off the bed and back into the bathroom and Clark heard water running. Water running and then Lex came out with a washcloth, wiping himself off, and then sat on the bed, leaning over and cleaning Clark--cleaning come off his belly, cleaning Lex’s come from his thighs, and washing between his legs, and Clark closed his eyes, feeling it, feeling *everything*--
Feeling the covers slide back. He opened his eyes.
"Come on, Clark. Stay with me?"
"I should go home, I really, my mom didn’t expect me to stay out so late, and--"
"Please?"
That was all it took. He slid under cool sheets, resting nervously on his side, looking at Lex. Lex reached over him, kissing him on the way by, and clicked the light off. Darkness seemed to lay heavily against his skin.
"Relax. Sleep. Aren’t you tired?"
"Yeah, but..."
"Yeah, but. No excuses. Just sleep. Your parents will understand. Tell them you went off wandering, and you fell asleep in a field somewhere."
"They won’t..."
"They will. They want to believe the best of you."
Clark relaxed, a little, still looking at Lex. Lex, smiling sideways, leaned against him. "Clark, you’re staring at me."
"Yeah, but..."
"What?"
**No lies. Remember, no lies.**
"I keep thinking this is all a dream, or something. That I’ll wake up and you’ll be..."
"Trust me, Clark, I’m *very* real."
He swallowed. He nodded in the dark.
"Okay."
Lex closed his eyes, breathing in and out, head against Clark’s shoulder.
"Clark?"
"Mmm?"
"When I had the cognac..."
Clark tensed, then relaxed, pulling Lex closer.
"Yeah?"
"And I--lit you--on fire..."
He swallowed. **No lies, Kent. Lifetime of it, you can be tired of it for one night. You promised him. You *promised*. No lies.**
"...Yeah?"
"Hottest thing I’ve seen in my *life*, Clark. You...You are *so* damned hot."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. You don’t know?"
"I...no. I guess I don’t."
"Trust me. *Damned* hot."
He thought for a moment. Thought about protested. Thought about telling him *Lex* was hotter. Let it all go.
"Okay."
"Okay."
Lex grew quiet, his breathing regular, and Clark tucked the sheet around them, holding Lex close. For a long, long time he stared at the dark ceiling, tracing out imperfections in the paint. He thought Lex was asleep. He thought about what he was going to tell his parents about why he wasn’t home on a Friday night. He thought about Lex naked, then abruptly had to think about school and calculus and creative writing and, and, *anything* not to get hard again. It might wake Lex up.
"Clark?" Lex said, murmuring his name.
"Yeah?"
"Can I light you on fire again?" Lex asked, sleepily.
**Can he light me on fire again? No! Yes. No! Is it past midnight? Oh, that's *crap*, Kent, that doesn’t count. Still the same day. You aren’t asleep yet.**
*Can I light you on fire again?* God, what a question. He swallowed, and closed his eyes, tried very hard not to see through the eyelids. He bent his head closer towards Lex.
"Anytime you want," Clark whispered, biting his lip.
"Good," Lex said, and fell asleep.
**Good. Yeah. Good.**
Clark thought about it. Opened his eyes again. Listened to Lex breathe, felt his breath warm on his shoulder.
**Yeah. Maybe. Okay. *Especially* if Lex does *this* again...**
Lex moved closer to him, sighing, and Clark smiled in the dark, closing his eyes. Yeah.
Maybe being a big freak alien had its good points.
END
Kelandris the Mad
*****************
moving through grace
If you wanna go back, go back. If you want to go back to the main site, go. If you wanna go somewhere else...hey, I ain't stoppin' you.
Or if you want, write me.
