Subject: SV Sugar Coated (Clex, NC-17) Date: Thursday, May 08, 2003 3:13 PM Title: Sugar Coated Author: Nifra Idril Feedback: firstname.lastname@example.org Pairing: Clark/Lex Rating: NC-17 Disclaimer: If they were mine there wouldn't be any clothes. Ever. Summary: Saturday morning - cartoons, cereal, and PWP.
- Much thanks, love, and third grade math to my amazing beta, Lyra.
- This is my first attempt at Smallville slashdom. Please do let me know what you think...I can be taught!
- If anyone knows how to make italics show up on yahoo list posts, please let me know. I wuvs me some italics...and then I end up having to change them to the little thingies bracketing words (like so) and that takes forever and a day to change...(I suppose that I could just write with those in the first place, but italics are purtier.)
Lex is going to kill Clark. He's not sure how, but he'll find a way. Slanting one eye open, he glares at the clock next to his bed. Nine in the morning. Lex groans, rolls over, hoping that if he continues to ignore Clark, Clark will go away. And then he won't have to kill him.
Because, really, he doesn't want to, not when he's fully awake. It would be a crime and a shame to ruin a naturally beautiful phenomenon like Clark Kent. But this kind of rude awakening demands murder on principle, and bashful grins will only earn so much leeway.
"Lex! Come on! Get up!" Something small and round hits the glass of his window...a pebble? Clark is throwing pebbles at his window now? Lex pushes the blankets off, scowling. He runs a hand over his face and stands and it really is far too obscenely bright outside, Lex thinks, as he opens the window and squints down at Clark, ominously.
"Hey! You sleep really soundly, you know that? I've been down here for, like, ten minutes!"
"I know." Only ten minutes? It felt like longer, Lex thinks, crossing his arms.
"Oh." Clark frowns slightly, before ducking his head with a shrug. "Sorry." He offers a lopsided smile, and the morning gets brighter at the flash of strong, white teeth.
Lex reminds himself that it's nine in the morning, and he's had three hours of sleep. He will not be charmed. He scowls harder to reinforce that point.
"So, uhm, you going to let me in?"
"That depends," Lex drawls. "What do you want?"
Clark's smile gets brighter. Lex winces. Three hours, he reminds himself. "I brought cereal," Clark declares as though that explains everything. He holds up a plastic shopping bag. "Cocoa Puffs and Fruit Loops."
"And what do you want me to do with it?"
"Eat it?" Clark suggests, confused. "You know - bowl? Milk? Spoon?"
"Thank you, Clark, that was helpful," Lex returns dryly.
"Lex, c'mon! We're going to miss the good ones!"
Lex is sure they're speaking different languages. "The good whats?"
A roll of eyes, and another dazzling grin. "The good cartoons, Lex. It's Saturday morning, I have cereal, you have a big flat screen TV and the cartoon network has a great line up, so let me in already, `kay?"
He shakes his head, but he's smiling now. "I'll be right down."
"Finally!" The explosive sigh that goes along with that is enough to get a slight laugh out of Lex as he turns away from the window and pulls a shirt and a pair of sweat pants on before heading downstairs to meet Clark.
He's...touched. And that's not something Lex is, often. Only a few days before, Clark had been making disapproving noises when he'd learned that Lex had never watched Saturday morning cartoons or eaten sugary cereal on the couch until he was too sugared up to do anything but run around for hours. Lex had patiently explained that a Luthor childhood didn't have time for that kind of nonsense, but Clark hadn't listened. Instead, he'd gone out and bought cereal.
Lex smoothes over his smile, trying for quiet amusement. He opens the door and Clark, who's been leaning against it, trips inward, losing his grip on the bag. Boxes of cereal slide across the well-waxed floor and breath leaves Lex's chest in a whoosh as he cushions Clark's fall.
"You okay?" Clark does embarrassed and concerned very well, Lex muses, taking the hand offered and standing. "I wasn't paying any attention...Are you sure you're okay? Is your head all right, there was a thump..." He reaches around and runs long blunt fingers over the back of Lex's skull.
And Lex will not shiver. He will. Not. Shiver. Not even when Clark is cradling his head in those big, farm boy hands, biting that lower lip into a nice shade of pink and...Not shivering. Not. Shivering.
Air tickles over Lex's lips, and he looks up to see Clark realizing that this is an Awkward Moment. He loves it when Clark blushes and he really should step away or clear his throat or do something to break this tense, breathless silence. He should. But...he really doesn't want to.
"I, uhm...no bumps. You're good to go," Clark tells him, dropping his hands and stepping back. Too bright a display of teeth, and Lex knows that Clark's uncomfortable when he hunches into his broad shoulders. Someone really should teach that boy a thing about posture.
"Thanks," and was that a purr? Rather unfair when he's already got Clark fidgeting, so, reluctantly he offers a pathway out of the tension. Unresolved tension drives Lex crazy. "Does all of your cereal fly, Clark?"
A laugh that's more relief than amusement. "That's why we use the milk. To keep it down, and all," he replies, scooping up the boxes.
"Tyrant. Do you oppress all of your breakfast foods?" Slants him a glance, and Clark's snickering. He holds the door open and breathes deeply when Clark walks past him. Smells like...cinnamon. Sweet boy.
A quick shrug - fluid motion of shoulders that Lex, whose libido seems to be as awake as he is, wants to run his hands over. "Hey, they fly. What am I supposed to do?"
Lex never really appreciated earnesty before it was shining at him out of green eyes. Now it's his new favorite expression. Wonders briefly how his father would react to that but decides that his father has no place in this Saturday morning.
He hands Clark a bowl and Clark waits for another.
When it isn't forthcoming, Clark rolls his eyes. "We're gonna need two of these unless you want to eat out of the same bowl."
There's an idea, but... "I'm not a big cereal fan."
He receives a pout. Cute, but it's still a pout. "You're not going to have cereal with me? Even after I got up early and bought it just for you? That's gratitude, alright."
"It's just not quite my style."
"That's why you should eat it! Don't you say that variety is the spice of life? C'mon, please?"
And really, who could resist that? Lex shrugs, takes out another bowl, and basks in the warmth of Clark's grin.
"Fruit Loops or Cocoa Puffs, Lex?"
"Which one has less sugar?" he asks, looking at the nutritional facts on the side of the box.
Clark favors him with a particularly disdainful look as he pours milk over his Cocoa Puffs. "Uhm...Lex? It's cereal. They're both covered in sugar. Do you want chocolate flavored sugar or fruit flavored sugar?"
"I suppose Fruit Loops would be the lesser of two evils," he murmurs, eyes on Clark's hands. Long fingers, smooth knuckles, broad freckled backs of his hands and Lex wonders what would happen if he lifted one of those long fingers to his mouth and...
Well. He knows what would happen. Blushing. Lots of blushing. It's just a matter of what Clark would do while blushing.
And that's enough to keep Lex's interest well into Clark's next sentence. "...Powerpuff Girls, but X-Men should be on in a couple of minutes. Do you have juice?"
Juice. He is having sexual fantasies about someone whose top priorities include a steady supply of juice. No one would believe him, even if he told them. Which he isn't going to.
He still hasn't answered Clark, and Clark is starting to get concerned. "Hey? Lex? You sure you're head's okay? Coz you're kind of spacing out on me."
"There's some grapefruit juice in the door, and orange juice somewhere else in there. Help yourself." Lex turns, reaches up, shakes his head at himself, and grabs a glass for Clark. Gets a big, goofy grin of thanks, and then Clark's bending over into the refrigerator to look for the promised orange juice, and Lex really needs to remind himself about that whole juice thing.
Because Clark's got a great ass. And it's just...right there. In front of him.
A really, really great ass.
He's starting to be irritated about being dragged out of bed again, except this time, he's also irritated about having been alone there in the first place. If Clark's going to wake him up early, it better be with a tongue and roving fingers, not cereal and pebbles. Fair's fair, after all.
Juice. He likes juice. Remember that, Lex. Orange juice.
Lex really wants a screwdriver. Fuck that. He really needs a screwdriver. Is it too early? Will Clark be scandalized?
Probably. But he's cute when he's scandalized. Damn.
"You ready?" Clark asks, eyes shining eagerly and then...quick dart of tongue and he's licking his lips.
Ready? Lex has been ready for weeks...oh, wait. Cartoons. Double damn. "Sure," he says with a gesture toward the living room. "After you."
Lex waits until Clark's out of the kitchen and pours himself some orange juice and vodka.
Not even ten in the morning yet, but if he's going to make it until noon with the underaged Adonis sprawled across the couch, Lex is going to need some liquid fortification. He downs half of it before entering the room.
Clark's thrown himself over the loveseat, and...why not? It's right across from the television. Best seat in the room.
Lex grins. There's enough room there for two people. Especially if they're close together. Very close together.
Clark's arm is a convenient cushion for his head as he settles into the loveseat. He can see the shock on the chiseled features of Clark's face out of the corner of his eye, and his grin just gets wider.
"Uhm...so...X-Men already started. Rogue's fighting with Remy again...and uhm..." Clark trails off as Lex reaches across him for a coaster.
"And?" Lex prompts, turning his head slightly while he half fumbles the coaster into Clark's lap. And is this really a good idea? His hands are in Clark's lap, and Clark's not breathing. Just... staring at him. And then Lex isn't breathing either.
Nope. Not a good idea. The screwdriver was supposed to help with the whole `control' situation, not make him sprawl across Clark's oh-so-inviting lap.
But it is...so inviting.
No more screwdriver for Lex. It's just exacerbating the situation.
He sits up, forces himself to behave, and eats some of the godforsaken Fruit Loops.
Spoon. Mouth. Chew. Swallow.
Very good, Lex.
Clark's shoveling Cocoa Puffs into his mouth with alarming speed, and paying very close attention to the spandex-covered bodies cavorting all over the screen, and really, what is it about being a super-hero that makes people want to wear skin tight clothing? It's just ridiculous.
Although...Lex's opinion of Clark as baseline heterosexual is beginning to shift as he eyes some of the heroes. No one could be that interested in men wearing Lycra and wrestling with one another and be completely innocent of any prurient interest.
Then again, this is Clark. He's very good at being completely innocent.
Damn it. Is that triple damn at this point?
The X-man with the weird visor-thingy pins one of the other spandex clad and improbably muscled men to the ground, and Lex rolls his eyes. "Cut the foreplay already," he mutters.
And when Lex turns to look at Clark he's torn between wanting to laugh, cry and pin him to the loveseat and never, ever let him up because Clark is licking his finger. Licking it.
With his tongue. To the finger. Just like that.
Tongue. Finger. Licking.
"What...?" Lex isn't proud of the way his voice sounds. It's...breathy. Lex doesn't do breathy. No Luthor does. No self-respecting Luthor. "Why are you...what's on your finger?"
So maybe he's not a self-respecting Luthor because his voice is still breathy. Or maybe he's panting. That's worse.
"Oh, got milk on it when I was drinking the chocolate part," Clark answers with a shrug. "What do you mean about the foreplay?"
His eyes may or may not be popping out of his head. His jaw may or may not be hanging open. He's not sure. He'd have to be capable of rational thought to know that and Clark was just...licking his finger... and now he's talking about foreplay...and he's really thinking about finishing off that screwdriver and jumping back into Clark's lap.
"Foreplay?" he chokes out. Not breathy anymore...but hardly speaking either. He's not sure if it's an improvement.
"You know, you said `cut the foreplay.' You think there's some kind of subtext going on here, Lex?"
Subtext? Here? And how does Clark even know what he's talking about? Shouldn't he be all wide eyed and confused? Shouldn't he at least be blushing?
Lex clears his throat. "Well, Clark...the visor-guy is straddling the other man's hips. And they're both wearing spandex. Subtext may not even be necessary."
"The visor-guy is named Cyclops and the other one is Quicksilver," Clark hastens to inform him. Lex couldn't care less if they were Siegfried and Roy. "And it's not like there's anything...sexual, about it. He's trying to...y'know, hold him down. So he can't get away."
"Nope, nothing sexual in that," Lex says blandly and...there's the blush he's been waiting for, creeping up Clark's throat and into his cheeks. Full body blush?
Wouldn't he love to find out.
"Still...I mean, Cyclops fights crime and Quicksilver's, y'know, a criminal, so it's not like Cyclops is going to...mack on him or anything."
Lex can feel both of his eyebrows climbing toward what would have been a hairline, if he'd had one. "Mack on him?"
Clark rolls his eyes, and bites his lip before shaking his head. His facial expression communicates clearly exactly how hopeless Lex is. "Mack on him...you know? Put the moves on him? Hit on him?"
"Thanks, I'm not entirely fluent in Smallville-High-speak yet."
"That's what you've got me for," Clark tells him cheerfully with a pat to Lex's shoulder, which pushes Lex closer toward that broad chest. Lex had almost forgotten that Clark's arm is around him. Almost. No way he's forgetting about it now, though - not with the strong bicep under his head and Clark's forearm resting on his shoulder.
Why had he thought this was a good idea, precisely?
This calls for yet another damn. He's going to run out of them if he keeps this up.
Lex returns his attention to the bowl of Fruit Loops, which are now sad, soggy rings of brightly colored grain. God, he hates them. Hates them with an intensity that shouldn't be possible for something so...soggy.
"Anyway, I don't think that Cyclops is macking on Quicksilver. Other than the whole criminal thing, he's straight. He's with Jean Grey. So I don't buy your subtext theory."
"Clark, look at what they're wearing. Look at how they fight. With a weapon like his eyes, this Cyclops of yours could easily restrain any criminal without touching them and yet he decides to throw himself bodily against the other scantily clad mutant? Right. No subtext. I don't know why I even brought this up." And he really doesn't, unless it was some not-so-buried masochistic tendency he hadn't known about beforehand. He's sitting here, watching Clark drink juice and arguing the finer points of homosexual subtext in a cartoon at...what is it? 10:30 in the morning? To top it all off he's half drunk, and more than half-hard.
He really should get back into therapy. Clearly he hates himself a lot more than he'd ever known before.
"No way, man. There's no Cyclops-subtext. There's subtext in other places...not there though."
Other places? Like here, on the loveseat? Lex turns to study Clark, and finds him staring back with total innocence.
"What?" Clark asks when the scrutiny goes on for a moment too long.
"Nothing," Lex says, turning back toward the television.
Must. Pay. Attention. To. Cartoon.
Must. Stop. Hallucinating. Flirtation.
Although half of the flirtation isn't hallucinated. He's flirting openly. Blatantly, even. But Clark...ahh, Clark. Dense as a brick when it comes to this kind of thing.
And: Not. Interested.
Quiet minutes pass. Lex thinks his sanity might be slowly creeping back into the room and oh, how he's missed it. Should he risk another sip of the screwdriver?
Slants a look at Clark, who's biting his lower lip and decides that the answer to that question is definitely no.
How many more hours of this cartoon ritual? The subtext-filled cartoons may kill him. The sexual frustration will kill him if it keeps up for much longer. He needs Clark to leave so he can take a nice long shower and reacquaint himself with his left hand.
Clark smells amazing.
Losing it. Lex. Is. Losing. It.
"Lex?" Soft call, and he turns to see Clark smiling slightly. Their eyes lock and breathing is once more an issue.
He thought he kicked that asthma thing about the same time all his hair fell out, but maybe not. Or maybe this is Clark-specific asthma.
Blinks, remembers how to breathe and answers. "Yeah?"
"Aren't you going to ask where the other subtext is?"
Lex has been told that he's too suspicious but Clark's smile, and his eyes, and that tone of voice...the little bastard is teasing him! Teasing him.
Unacceptable. The only answer is to...turn it from a tease into something...more? If Clark will, that is...but Lex is fairly sure he'd be able to interest him.
After all...Spandex. Wrestling. And that's a cartoon that's had Clark's attention for years.
Lex stretches his back, arching his hips up and raising his arms over his head. He lets his head fall against the crook of Clark's elbow, and only opens his eyes half way to study Clark from under his lashes.
"I don't know, Clark," he says, letting his voice lower to a raspy purr. "Maybe I don't need to ask."
And score one for Lex, because Clark's blushing again.
He leans forward quickly, getting in Clark's personal space, a hand sliding up Clark's thigh and squeezing lightly. "Maybe I already know."
"Then...wh-why is it sub? The text, I mean," Clark stutters, biting his lower lip and flaring his nostrils.
And that...well, Lex doesn't care about the score anymore. Because he might. Score, that is.
Clark moves toward him, wetting his lips and staring at Lex's mouth. "It, uh...it could be...y'know...Sur? If you...wanted. Coz I do."
That's close...but he really wants to hear all of it. Wants to hear Clark say that he wants him. It'll make up for a lot of the past hour. What comes after will make up for the rest. More than make up for it. "You do what, Clark?"
"I do...think about you. Think about you when I...I want you, Lex." Clark's still blushing, but he isn't hiding. His eyes are trained on Lex, bright green darkening - becoming smoky and filled with...desire? Need?
Lex is sure his eyes look pretty similar as he closes the gap between them, biting Clark's full lower lip with a growl before pulling it into his mouth and sucking on it gently. Those big hands settle awkwardly on his shoulder, and Clark groans, full lashes fluttering shut as Lex deepens the kiss. He pushes Clark back against the armrest of the loveseat, and traces the contours of Clark's teeth with his tongue.
And...Clark's not as shy as Lex would have thought. Hands travel down Lex's back until they're cupping his ass - kneading, pulling him closer and...Clark's tongue. It's in his mouth. Fucking his mouth.
Not shy at all.
And is that groan coming from him? Yes. Yes it is.
Clark pulls him closer, and Lex loses balance. He falls entirely onto Clark's lap and...Hard. Clark's as hard as he is. Lex hisses in a breath, unable to stop himself from thrusting.
He's growling again but...so is Clark. Growling, and pushing up against him as those wet, red lips trail down over Lex's throat, licking, nipping, sucking...God, Clark's better at this than Lex had ever even imagined, and he's imagined it. A lot.
Lex pulls Clark's earlobe into his mouth, sucking on it and grinning wickedly when Clark thrusts up again, moaning, pulling Lex even closer as Lex sneaks a hand underneath the t-shirt that's really way too small for Clark.
And...those abs. Lex needs to see them. Needs to taste them...needs to see what kind of noise Clark will make when he licks them. He wants to taste Clark...God, all over. See if he tastes like cinnamon everywhere.
He rips the shirt off of Clark, smiling lazily. So it is a full body blush, after all.
And...he's known Clark was beautiful, he's seen him before...but somehow... somehow he's even more gorgeous when Lex knows that he can touch him anywhere. Do anything, because the want in Clark's face...that's as good as an engraved invitation. Better, even.
Invitations never got him as hot as this does.
"How long has there been...subtext?" Lex asks, leaning down to run his tongue over one small, brown nipple. Clark moans, arches his back, and Lex really does have to do that again. Like. Now.
Clark tastes so good.
"I...unh...ooh, Lex, yeah...uhm...what...what was the question?"
Hazy green eyes open, trying to focus on Lex's face and that voice is pure sex. Sleepy, thick. Lex nips at Clark's side, and receives another thrust. Clark's fingers press into his back through the fabric of his shirt, and his thighs are like iron beneath Lex's legs.
"The question," lick, bite, "was," swirl of tongue over Clark's nipple, "how long have you wanted to mack on me?" He pulls Clark's nipple into his mouth, and sucks on it, hard. And he's going to have bruises from the way that Clark's fingers dig into his back at that, but he doesn't care.
Really, really doesn't care.
"Oh, God...do we...shit! Do we really need to discuss this right now? Because I - oh, Lex - I...I can't really talk right now, not when you're...Jesus, you're sexy. You've got those eyes and...yeah, really not able to talk..." Clark gasps, thrusting up against Lex as his big, blunt fingers fumble with the hem of Lex's shirt. "I really want to... see you."
Lex looks up from where he's been nipping at Clark's abs, trailing his tongue along the skin just above the waistband of Clark's jeans. "I'm right here, Clark," he teases.
"That's not...Lex, please..." he whines, arching back again as Lex pushes against him, traveling back up the golden length of Clark's chest to suck on his neck, hard. Hard enough to leave a mark. "Take off your shirt," Clark demands against Lex's lips.
"Take it off for me," Lex taunts, kissing him fast, fiercely. Bruising his mouth against Clark's. Keeps his eyes open, so he sees the flare in those intent eyes.
And suddenly he's on his back, shirt stripped off, and a whole lot of Clark holding him down against the loveseat.
Lex is adaptable. He wraps his legs around the lean hips and presses himself up against Clark's groin, getting a moan and a counter thrust.
Clark's hands trail over his chest, calloused fingers lightly squeezing his nipples. Lex gasps, and Clark grins, wickedly. "Like that?"
"Do it again and find out," Lex challenges, and Clark does, twisting this time.
"Yeah, you like that," Clark says, sounding inordinately pleased with himself. Lex decides it's time to show him who's in charge again so he runs his hand down, over Clark's erection, palming the hardness there through the thick fabric.
Clark's eyes roll up into his head, and he bites his lower lip and he looks...Amazing. So Lex does it again, and Clark thrusts into his hand, whimpering. "Like that?" Lex murmurs, knowing the smile on his face is predatory, smug.
Clark's eyes flash open, and he stares down at Lex. So...open. Honestly wanting. It's enough to make Lex reach up with his free hand and draw Clark down for another kiss. Twirl his tongue with Clark's, and pop open the top button of the damned jeans.
Hates jeans. Hates that Clark wears clothing. He should be naked. All the time.
In Lex's bed. Or on the pool table. Or on the loveseat...or anywhere, really. With Lex.
He presses the fabric down, easing it over Clark's hips until he can trace a finger over the outline of Clark's cock. The cotton boxers are wet and Clark's making unclassifiable noises. Somewhere between growling, whimpering, begging and it's so damned hot.
"Want you so much," Clark gasps. "For so long...Lex...please."
Lex is harder than he's ever been before, but...the funny thing is that he wants to get Clark off more than he wants to get off, so he pushes the big body backward, and slides to the floor, pulling the jeans the rest of the way off, and hooks his fingers under the waistband of Clark's boxers. Shoots Clark a wicked grin, and then slides those down, too.
Clark's watching him and he can feel the weight of those eyes as he traces his tongue up Clark's thigh, running his fingers over Clark's chest, down to his hips, licking where thigh meets groin, but never quite touching Clark where he needs it most.
"God, Lex...I can't..." Clark throws his head back, arches up involuntarily. Horny teenager, and it's his first time. Lex really shouldn't be so cruel...but...Subtext. Cartoons.
Clark's got a lot to pay for.
"Can't what?" Lex asks, lips against the inside of Clark's thigh, looking up.
"Can't...hold...Jesus, Lex, please, would you do something already?"
"Pushy, aren't you?" he murmurs, grinning.
"Please don't tease me." And Clark's voice has dropped a couple octaves, his eyes are more black than green.
He wants Lex that much...and that's. Fucking hot.
But...Lex isn't quite ready to stop. He's having too much fun. "Don't tease you? So I shouldn't lick my fingers and talk to you about foreplay?"
Crooked grin, breathless gasp. "Would it...would it matter if I said I was sorry?"
"Not when you're grinning like that. You don't look like you mean it at all." Lex runs his tongue quickly over the tip of Clark's cock, lightly - no pressure. And Clark's hips piston up, his head falls back, and he moans.
"No more grinning. Ever. I swear to God. Just...Lex, dammit!" Desperate now, and that's exactly how Lex wants him.
He takes Clark in his mouth, swallowing him almost completely. And Clark hadn't expected that at all. He bucks up off of the loveseat almost completely; a string of broken words and gasps falling from his lips.
"I...Lex...god...You're...oh shit that's good, I...Goddamn! Fuck! Yes!"
And this is how you can get a farm boy to swear, Lex muses to himself, swallowing again, letting Clark fuck his mouth. Clark's not going to last much longer, he thinks, as he swallows a jet of pre-come. And that's fine with him.
Lex isn't going to last much longer either, but that's a secret he's willing to keep for right now.
He has to look up at Clark, has to see what this is doing to him. And...it's so damned un-fucking-believably sexy. Eyes closed, body tensing with each thrust, tongue darting out to moisten swollen lips.... He's always known that Clark would look like this. Like some kind of a god.
But...Jesus. Knowing and seeing are two completely different things.
"Lex, stop...I'm gonna...I'm gonna come...oh, God good...I'm gonna come in your mouth," he whispers, voice hoarse and scratchy as his shaking hands settle on Lex's scalp.
Lex stops long enough to look up at him, smiling hugely. "I want you to, Clark. I want to know what you taste like."
Full body shudder, and Lex goes back to his work. Swirling his tongue, and sucking the head before swallowing again. He runs his hands back, over Clark's ass. Looks up to judge it, and rubs his finger over Clark's perineum lightly.
Does it again, harder. Clark's thrusts speed up, his hands squeeze on Lex's head. Not enough to hurt, but...enough for Lex to know that Clark's about to lose control. Swallows again, and...slips the tip of his finger inside Clark.
And Clark is all the way down his throat and...coming.
What a beautiful, beautiful boy.
Lex swallows, keeps going until Clark's done, then pulls back and wipes his mouth. He must look incredibly self-satisfied...because...he is.
Climbs up Clark, straddles him. Kisses him again, and those big hands fasten around his hips.
"Now...you," Clark whispers, voice still thready. "I want to see you come, Lex...I want to make you feel...that. And I'm going to."
God, he won't have to do much. Just keep talking in that tone of voice, watching Lex so intently, and yes, definitely keep up the touching. Clark should never stop touching him.
Lex moans, and doesn't care how needy it sounds when Clark strips him of his sweat pants and bends him back over the love seat. Clark laves wet, open-mouthed kisses all over Lex's chest before pulling back to look at him and...yeah.
Lust looks damned good on Clark.
"Wanted you like this. Wanted to see you like this for weeks," Clark admits, eyes half-lidded. He raises a hand to his mouth and, watching Lex watch him, very slowly, carefully, licks the entirety of his hand.
"Gonna make you come so hard, Lex," he promises, reaching down.
And...Christ. Clark's hand is strong, sure, tight, fucking perfect as it jacks him. Thumb pressing against the slit on the head of Lex's cock, and just...so good...So fucking good...and ooh, Lex can't remember ever making that noise before.
Tastes blood in his mouth, knows he's bitten through his lip, doesn't give a good goddamn.
Shit, Clark's gifted. Fucking gifted. Those hands are a gift and... "oooh"... if he ever stops doing this Lex might die...hell, he might die anyway, might die because it feels so...Yeah, Clark just like that...
"You like that, Lex?" Clark asks, speeding up the rhythm. "I do. I love hearing you on the edge like this, love the way you look...You're so hot, Lex. I love doing this to you. Want to keep doing it forever."
"Sounds...good," Lex manages to pant out, thrusting his hips hard. Fucking Clark's hand. God, he's so fucking close just needs...needs...
Clark leans down and sucks the tip of Lex's cock. Wet warmth, suction and Lex is coming harder than he's ever come before...feels like he's being ripped inside-out by the orgasm and he doesn't mind.
The world falls back into place and Clark's smiling down at him, licking come off of his fingers. Lex's come.
God, it feels good to be alive sometimes.
"You're...mind blowing," he tells Clark, drawing him down for a slow, searching kiss after which Clark happily shifts to lie down beside Lex, head pillowed on Lex's shoulder. The loveseat's really too small for this, and Lex is starting to feel a cramp in his thigh, but he's never been less inclined to move in his entire life.
"You too," Clark says, blushing. And it startles a chuckle out of Lex that after all of that, Clark can still blush. "I...wow, Lex, how did you do that? With the...I was all the way in your throat!"
Lex shrugs, smiles down at Clark. "Practice makes perfect. I'd be more than willing to help you learn."
Earns him a happy grin in return. "Sounds like fun," Clark says, reaching over him and taking a sip from the glass beside the loveseat. He makes a face, and stares accusingly at Lex. "This isn't just orange juice! There's...something else in it."
"Vodka," Lex supplies, smile turning into a fond smirk because Clark really is criminally adorable when he's scandalized.
"You were drinking already?" Gets a glare that's pretty adorable, too, and Lex traces patterns all over Clark's back.
"I was driven to drink."
Eyebrows raised, and a smug grin from Clark. "Oh really? By what?"
"By this boy I know. He was macking on me. I was trying to resist him but...I'm a weak man."
"It sounds really weird when you say `macking,' Lex," Clark says with a laugh. "Like worlds are colliding or something."
"Well, you were," Lex points out with a lazy kiss to Clark's tanned shoulder. "And doing a damned good job of driving me out of my mind."
"Yeah, I kind of noticed that," Clark tells him unrepentantly, teeth flashing white in a huge grin.
"So did you get what you came for, then, Clark? A billionaire on his knees because of your teasing?"
Lex means it as a joke, but Clark draws back, hurt. "I didn't...I mean, Lex, I didn't come over because of...this." Clark gestures lamely to the both of them. "I'm not complaining, but...Lex, I don't want you to think that I just come over here coz you're gorgeous and sexy and all. I...you're my friend. It's more than just, you know, the sex. But the sex is great, and I want more of it, but...I'm babbling aren't I?"
And wow. Lex can't really breathe again, and there's this feeling in his chest...like there are wings brushing against the walls of his heart. He's...God, Clark makes him happy.
"Hey, Clark," Lex says softly, drawing Clark down so that he can press a tender kiss to swollen lips. "I think I really like Saturday morning cartoons. And I might even be able to develop a taste for cereal."
"Yeah?" Clark looks like he's not sure whether or not to smile.
"Yeah," Lex confirms, pushing Clark's hair out of his eyes.
Impatient shrug, confused eyes and Clark's really not getting what Lex is trying to tell him. "So what does that mean?"
"It means you shouldn't worry so damned much," Lex tells him. "You should kiss me again, instead."
Clark does and there's nothing teasing about it, just the sweet taste of cinnamon and Lex has never had a better morning in his life.
If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Nifra Idril
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