Disclaimers: If they were mine... well, you know.
Spoilers: General S2.
Summary: Dude, it's a PWP.
Ratings Note: NC-17.
Author's Note: I was dreaming when I wrote this, so 'scuse me if it goes astray.
Acknowledgments: Big nub to Jenn and the Spike.
Feedback: Yes'm. firstname.lastname@example.org
He knew he was being seduced. When he was honest with himself about it, Clark could admit he'd known about it since the very beginning. A sword in a wall and the strangest of all strangers looking at him as though he were something more special than anything he'd ever seen.
Like he was someone important, not just in the great scheme of things, but important to him. Lex.
And he was never a fool. You didn't pay a person that much attention, you didn't look like you needed that attention to be returned unless there was something... something.
He still blushed to think of it, every now and again. Blushed because bumbling teenaged high school friends shouldn't be privy to the things he knows about Lex's relationships. Maybe shouldn't see the red and blue filmy things peeking from waste baskets.
Clark could, if he wanted to, make some fairly educated guesses about Lex's love life. Lex's kinks, even. But he wasn't sure that he hadn't already done so. Sometimes, when they were sitting in his office and Lex was telling some smiling story with his mouth and some hungry epic with his eyes, Clark's own eyes would be drawn to the waste basket at Lex's heels.
Would there be another slip of silk in there? Had Helen made yet another mark on the Luthor trash by having Lex make a mark on her...?
Lex didn't even look curious at times like those -- like these -- he just waited for Clark to drag his gaze away from the trash and back to Lex's own gently amused face. They both knew what he was looking for.
"She's a very beautiful woman," Lex said. Though 'said' didn't quite work for Clark. The whole sentence fragment was an invitation, like Lex was offering Clark a hand up, a hand in.
Clark was getting less and less afraid of those invitations. "Yes, she is. She... doesn't seem your type, though." He looked up through his lashes, because they've known each other long enough for that gesture to mean something. At least, he thought it did.
Another dichotomy of amusement and devouring and this time Lex made the invitation physical: one hand, palm up on the desk. Ostensibly playing with a pen, but... "How so?"
She's sane. She's not evil. She hasn't insulted me, tried to kill me, or worked to betray you in some ridiculously largerthan -life way -- "She just seems so... normal," was what he finally managed, and immediately wished he hadn't.
"You're saying I've got a taste for circus freaks, Clark?"
"Lex. I think they like to be called Carnival Folk."
Lex snorted and leaned back in his chair, letting it swing a few times before throwing his legs up on the desk.
Clark hadn't even been aware of the mounting tension before its dissipation. "But come on, you know what I mean. I mean, I'm pretty sure Helen isn't even plotting the downfall of all that is good and holy --"
"Every girl needs a hobby."
"Clark." Both hands on the table again, feet on the floor. Restless. "I know what you're saying. Don't you think you should be happy that I'm dating someone actively sane?"
And if there wasn't more to that tone than just playful irritation.... Clark put up his own hands in small surrender. "I'm happy you're happy."
"What? I am. Happy."
Lex squinted at Clark for a moment and then laughed. "You're not. You're unhappy. So... why don't you tell me why?"
The last time Clark had seen a smile like that, a meteor mutant was about to drop a television on his head. "Uh... I think you're reading a little much into my dubiousness regarding your love life, Lex. I could just be convinced that this is all going to hell." There. That was good.
Lex spun the pen over his fingers a few more times in a way that made Clark decide, right then and there, never to play cards with the man. "You could be, it's true, but... you're not."
And he's had... so much time to get used to that, to that particular narrow-eyed, small-mouthed look. Not that he was, not that it didn't send a tight little shiver down his spine every time Lex looked at him that way... "Then what am I," and that was only a mutter.
And for a moment, Clark thinks Lex is going to say... something. Something final and irrevocable in the guise of their teasing, but Lex just visibly relaxes himself and smiles a much gentler version of his usual. The smile of a shark that would only eat you because you were delicious, as opposed to simply eating you. There was a difference.
It was enough to make Clark feel a little bold again. "Well?"
Raised eyebrow of engagement. "I think you're not telling me half of your reasons for being... uncomfortable with the state of my love life. But then, I can't say I'm not used to that..."
Lex looked away. Just a moment's loss of eye contact that had to be designed to make itself felt. And if he were a better person, he would let it lie, or apologize for something he couldn't put words to. But right now, all Clark wants to do is throw enough honesty into the conversation to hide all the lies.
And, okay, maybe he was feeling just a little belligerent, too.
"You think I'm jealous," he said, trying to put as much amiable outrage in his tone as possible.
Lex blinked quickly and repeatedly and turned back to face him. "Of me? Hey, I didn't think you liked them --"
"You know that isn't what I mean."
Slow, achingly casual shifts and Lex was leaning over the desk again. Watching him with those grey-blue eyes. Something about that look always made Clark want to hunt down hidden cameras. Lex had a way of looking at you that felt more like surveillance than attention. "So what," he said, "do you think I know?"
And there was his heart, thumping in his throat because... well, he hadn't really meant to go that far? Had he? Today? "You know... you know that we do more than talk, Lex."
Another blink, and Clark is just petty enough to take that as a point scored for the home team. "Excuse me?"
Dammit. "Lex, we've been... we... don't just talk."
Another shift, and Lex is close enough for Clark to smell the coffee and orange juice on his breath. He couldn't get any closer without actually sitting on the desk. "Can you say it, Clark? Because if you can't..."
Then what? He'll stop? Clark didn't think so. But, just the same... "We flirt, Lex."
"Don't you even dare look surprised. We flirt all the time. When you're pissed at me, or I'm pissed at you, or if we're supposed to be paying attention to the women in our lives... it doesn't matter. We flirt."
Lex just looked at him. Looked at him for just long enough that Clark started to get that crawly feeling in his belly, like maybe he'd pushed too far, or said too much, or just --
"Uh. Yeah." A laugh, much shakier than his usual. "You know, I was just about ready to start convincing myself that you hadn't noticed."
Lex scrubbed a hand over his head and stood up. Moved around to the front of the desk and sat down again. If either of them moved, their legs would brush. "Oh, I've been doing it every few months since I got here. Flirt, flirt, assume the farm-boy is just being friendly, flirt, jerk off furiously, assume the farm-boy has non-functioning brain cells when it comes to this sort of --"
"I've had plenty of time to form theories."
"But now you're done with that, because you've got Helen."
Lex stared at him. "Clark... okay, correct me if I'm wrong, but are you telling me you're jealous of her?"
And that was apparently the last of no-blush reserve. Clark felt his face heat up, but refused to duck his head. "I could say a lot of things here about how I know I'm being irrational, and probably a hypocrite besides because of Chloe and Lana --"
"And Jessie, and Kyla, and... who was it this week?"
"Right. But... you know, I'm just not that noble, Lex." Clark smiled as innocently as he could manage.
Earned a head tilt this time, and Lex didn't seem to care that he was being obvious about studying Clark.
Clark just met his eyes and waited.
"You know, there are some very interesting red rocks that I'd love to talk to you about if I thought I had a Luthor's chance in hell of getting straight answers."
It was Clark's turn to blink, but... "I'm not high, Lex."
"No! Jesus. I'm just... can't a guy be tired of pretending?" Was that what this was?
"Is that what this is?"
Clark blinked again. "Um. Okay, let me just say that I'm really not sure what this is in a larger, more coherent sense, but... yeah. We flirt. This is something I enjoy about our. Our friendship, and... yeah."
Lex's eyes slipped closed most of the way, and his smile was somewhere between rueful and amused. And then it wasn't, and he was looking Clark up and down. Really looking, like Clark had just gotten back from someplace hundreds of miles away.
Clark swallowed. "Lex?"
Slow blink. "What would you do if I kissed you, Clark?"
Have a heart attack and die. Get hard. Kiss you back. "Try it and see."
And Lex didn't bother with any more words. Barely bothered with movement; just slid down off the desk and right into Clark's lap. Straddling Clark on the couch and leaning in slow. Inexorable. And other important vocabulary words that became completely meaningless with the first brush of Lex's mouth against his own. Slow, dry, soft, and then wet.
Lex's tongue like a snake, something living and muscular and silkily demanding and Clark opened his mouth and hoped his thudding heart wouldn't just leap out. Because kissing Lex was like surrendering in a way that had nothing to do with power games. Clark honestly felt like he was giving something away, something that would only feel trivial until the kiss ended.
Clark reached up, unsure where to touch and how to hold and generally feeling useless save for his mouth. And then only useful until Lex pulled away.
Lex, who looked him over again with all that amusement and all that (lust) hunger, saving extra long looks for Clark's reaching hands.
"Would you do anything interesting with your hands if I kissed you again?"
"I hope so."
Something sparked in Lex's eyes, like some particularly sharp form of happiness. He leaned in closer, settled in until Clark's cock was only a few layers of fabric away from Lex's own. Hot, so hot, and Clark had his face tilted up for another kiss before he knew what he was doing.
But Lex knew, and the kiss this time was much harder, much... faster. Slick and somehow blatant and Clark decided that he wanted to have words for Lex's taste. Something more than 'coffee,' 'orange juice,' and intangible Lex-ness. He wanted the taste to be something he could describe without sounding like an idiot. Something that would call to mind the acid shocky need at the back of his own tongue and the way being this close to Lex's cologne was like being stoned.
It had to be. No one would ever get stoned if it didn't feel like this, like having Lex's scents and senses colonizing Clark's own until he was nothing but... marked.
Clark groaned and clutched at Lex's hips, dragging him closer still, and the feel of it made him gasp, made him buck up hard and cling tighter. Kissing was awkward now, but Lex's throat was right there. Long and slender and pale, and Clark thought maybe he could understand vampires, because his lips pulled back from his teeth and the only thing he could hear was the pound of his own heart. The rustle of the rumpled clothes between them.
"Lex, I want..."
Lex did a little... thing with his hips and pulled away just enough to look Clark in the face. His eyes were wild, now, and he looked almost lost, but Clark could feel how hot he was where it counted. How hard. Hard everywhere but those plushly swollen lips, red from kissing.
Clark had to taste them again.
And then there were hands in his hair, and then just one hand -- the other slipping between them to work on Clark's buttons, down and down and up under his t-shirt and --
"Oh God, Lex --" He'd played with his own nipples before, but that was nothing compared to Lex and his strange calluses and his incautious touch, like he knew exactly how little he could hurt Clark and just wanted to make him feel.
"You like that."
It wasn't a question, but Clark answered with a moan just the same. Pulled Lex in for another kiss, slow and messy with intermittent sparks from where Lex was pinching his nipples hard, from where he was grinding against Clark's cock; fully dressed and the sexiest thing Clark had ever seen.
"God, I want to taste your neck, Lex," and before he could think about just how embarrassing that sentence was, he kissed his way there, nuzzled against the side of Lex's throat and rubbed his stubble there and just breathed.
Lex grabbed his shoulders, ran his fingers through Clark's hair and held him there. "You can do... fuck, anything you want, Clark..."
And it makes him shoot pre-come, makes his cock throb and want and Lex pushed against him harder, like he could feel exactly how much Clark needed it, needed more.
"Your hand, Lex, I want your hand on me..."
"Not my mouth?"
And Clark had no words for that, no way to respond beyond throwing his head back and scrabbling between them to get his fly open. He could feel Lex watching him. Even with his eyes closed -- a gaze like that is impossible to ignore, even if Clark wanted to.
Right now, he just wanted Lex to look at him and know exactly how much he needed this, how long he'd been waiting and oh, God, Lex's hand in his shorts was almost enough to send him over the edge. Hot and tight and slick and so good --
"It's even better... together, Clark."
Together? Oh, together... Clark tore open Lex's pants and pushed the boxer briefs down just enough and... Jesus. He hadn't ever been this aware of his own hand before. Of the smoothness of his palm and the way it feels to curl his fingers around them both. Like something religious, sometime to be lingered over and --
"Yeah, like that..."
Lex sounded so gone, panting in his ear, licking his ear and fucking Clark's fist and Clark's dick and Clark bit down on the hard muscle between throat and shoulder and Lex shouted and Clark came with a high, embarrassing whine at the back of his throat.
"Jesus Christ, Clark --"
Lex kept pumping, bracing himself on Clark's shoulders and licking and biting seemingly everything he could reach before seizing up hard and coming all over Clark's dick and fist.
And then they were panting together. Nuzzling idly and kissing like they had all day. All year.
"This changes things," Lex said matter-of-factly.
"I know," Clark said, and drowned the pound of his heart in more kisses.
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