Disclaimers: If they belonged to me, I'd happily be the designated
driver.
Spoilers: Metamorphosis
Summary: What do you do with a drunken Lex?
Ratings Note: NC-17.
Author's Note: Ah, the late night IRC crew. Blame *them*.
Especially Bas, for putting the idea in my head.
Acknowledgments: To all the girls I've loved before...
Feedback is my anti-drug.
*
"Lex... how drunk *are* you?"
"That's not important right now, Clark," said Lex, patting Clark's
shoulder and blinking owlishly. "What's important is... is. Um."
"Yes?" Clark tried to sound helpful, but he didn't think it mattered
much to the man in the passenger seat. Lex was *wasted*.
"Yes. What's important is your education."
"My... education. Okay..."
"Not *just* your education, Clark."
Clark chuckled quietly and tried to pay attention to the road. The
way Lex was sprawled, he'd be in the truck's footwell any second
now. "No?"
"No. Your education in the ways of the *world*."
"Is this The Talk? Because I've had The Talk, Lex, I swear."
Lex gave him a slow, sly grin. "Really."
Clark snorted. "Could you make that sound any *more* sleazy?"
"Hmm... try: 'reeeeeallllly.'"
"Now you just sound like Jim Carrey, Lex."
"I can talk with my ass, you know."
"You do realize I'm going to remind you of this conversation when
you're sober, don't you? Like, every day for years?"
Lex waved airily. "Such concerns are beneath me. But I was talking
about something. Something *important*."
"Your ass?"
"Even *more* important than my ass, Clark. Pay attention, these are
weighty matters. *Weighty*. Isn't that a great word?"
"Uh... if you say so..."
"I do say so. Now. Your education is... lacking."
Clark rolled his eyes and wondered how far out of Smallville they were.
It was harder to tell when he wasn't running. "How so?"
"Well, for one thing... tell me a dirty joke."
"What?"
"A dirty joke. C'mon, you're a teenaged boy, it's America, you've gotta
know one or two."
"You want me to tell you a dirty joke." Clark glanced over to find Lex
struggling mostly ineffectually to get back up on the seat.
"Yes. Go on."
"Uh... okay. A blonde walks into a bar --"
"*No*."
"What, no? It's a good joke."
"It's a *bar* joke, Clark. It's..." Lex was making a complex gesture
with his hands. It looked like he was trying to make butterfly shadow
puppets. He was sliding down into the footwell again. "It's
*played*."
"Played? Have we moved to the hip hop portion of the evening?"
Lex glared at him darkly. "Don't mock my up-to-the-minute syntax,
farmboy. I'm trying to *teach* you something."
"About dirty jokes."
"Yes. No. Sort of." Another complex gesture. "Look."
"I'm looking."
"Look at the road! Listen."
"Okay --"
"Shh!" Lex hauled himself upright and gestured like a conductor
before the orchestra's crescendo. "There once was a man from
Canisus / whose balls were two different sizes / one was so small /
it was no ball at all / and the other was *huge* and won prizes."
Lex nodded with satisfaction.
"A limerick? You told me a *limerick*?"
"A dirty limerick. About testicles. The dangles of the flopsy dangles.
It's *funny*."
"Well, okay, but explain to me how a dirty limerick is better than a
bar joke. A bar joke *with* blonde joke possibilities, mind you."
Lex buried his face in his hands. "Clark, Clark, Clark."
At least, that's what it sounded like. It was pretty muffled.
Lex looked up again, and fixed Clark with a *look*.
"What?"
"You compare bar jokes to limericks and expect me to believe you
aren't in need of education?" Lex shook his head, reached out and
grabbed Clark's shoulder again, shaking it wildly.
He suspected that a human would probably be reeling back and forth
from the pressure Lex was putting on, but figured that keeping them
from a flaming car wreck would excuse the use of his strength. "Um...
yes?"
"Limericks! Have a grand, noble tradition. Long. Noble. *Grand*."
"You said that already, Lex." Clark smirked at the road. God, years
of
torture for this. *Years*.
"It doesn't make it less true. In fact, I dare say it makes it *more*
true, so I'll say it again. Grand. Noble."
"Grand."
"Do *not* forget noble. Listen --"
"Are you going to tell me another dirty limerick?"
"Yes, now shut up: 'There once was a young man named Hunt / who
believed that he had a cunt / but his doctor sighed long / and told
Hunt 'you are wrong, / your ass is just placed back to front.'"
Clark snorted. "Um... ew?"
"See? Do you *see*?"
"That you've lost your mind? Yes."
Lex shook his shoulder some more. "*Clark*."
"Lex!"
"What?"
"I was just trying to get in the mood."
"Oh. Well, that's all right, then, but you're still... you're hopeless."
"Hey! I have a lot of hope!"
Lex sighed gustily. "No, no, Clark, I'm afraid you don't." He was
sliding down into the footwell again. "See... the thing is... the
thing is this."
"I'm waiting."
"Don't get snippy."
"Snippy?!"
"Hush. Shhh. Shh. Hush-a-bye, baby..."
"Are you *singing*?"
"Well, not *now*. Look. Limericks."
"I'm looking."
"But are you *listening*? Ah, yes, that's the question. See, much
as a dream is a wish your heart makes -- listen! -- a limerick is a
joke your... um. Your poet. Makes."
"Your *poet*?"
"Shut up, I'm being philuph... philohex... *shit*. Where are we?"
"I-55, on the way to Smallville."
"Oh, *Christ*. I think I'm starting to get sober again. Stop, pull
over."
Clark did so. "Are you going to be sick? Do you need help?"
"I need *scotch*. Oh God, don't let me get sober..."
"You're going to want to be sober *eventually*, Lex."
"I will *not*." Lex was scrubbing his eyes like a kid.
Clark hid a smile behind his hand. It really was way too cute. "So the
next time you go to a board meeting you want to be drunk?"
"No. The next time I go to a board meeting I want to be *tripping*.
I want to watch the trails fly from my father's hair and dance on the
table and kiss Dominic full on the mouth."
"Ewwwwwww."
There was a brief pause. "To which?"
"Well, your dad's hair, for one, but c'mon, Lex, Dominic? He's got
that awful mustache."
"You're objecting to his mustache?"
"It's pretty hideous."
Lex snorted quietly. "But not the kissing."
Clark hid another smile. Drunk Lex was an infinitely less smooth Lex.
He blinked at him innocently. "Better than the table dancing."
"I'll have you know I'm an *excellent* table dancer."
Clark choked. "The *images*, Lex. Pasties!"
"Glittery, *sparkly* pasties."
"Sequins on your thong?"
"Well, I prefer a posing pouch, but yes."
"Suddenly, I'm beginning to understand your Dad."
Lex snickered. "Okay, now *you* need Scotch. Where the hell did
I put it..." And Lex fumbled in his jacket, pulling an etched silver
flask
seemingly out of nowhere. "Ahh. That's better." Spun off the cap
and took a long swallow before offering it to Clark.
"Uh... the whole designated driver principle would kind of be defeated
if I took that, Lex."
"Hmm. You have a point. Still, though. It's no fun to be the only one
stupidly drunk."
"Are you gonna tell me more limericks?"
"Limericks? Oh *God*..."
Clark snickered. "C'mon, let your inner poet run wild and free."
Lex took another swallow and put his feet up on the dash. "My inner
poet died of consumption *years* ago. My inner bullshitter, now..."
"Pretty healthy?"
"Like unto the horsey, Clark. Mm. Why do you put up with me?"
"It's not everyday you get to watch a jazillionaire tell dirty
limericks, Lex." Clark pulled the keys out of the ignition and shifted
so he could face Lex a little.
But Lex's brow was furrowed, and he was staring out into the
endless corn.
"Lex?"
"Seriously. I tease you, I question you, I do everything short of
*stalking* you, and you... pick me up in the middle of the night
and indulge my need to babble when shitfaced." Lex looked over
at last, eyes dark and gleaming. "Clark, you give a man ideas."
Ideas? Apparently, alcohol just made Lex's mood swings faster
and harder to predict. "Well, us stalkers have to stick together."
"Mm. That's one reason."
"Are there others?"
Brief, sharp smile. "That's my question. I would... I would like very
much to get you drunk -- rip, roaring, run through the fields like
a
lunatic drunk and..."
"And?" Clark's voice was small.
Another smile. "Play with you. Just... play. Hide and seek. I've got
this big ass castle..." And Lex was snickering.
"You remember how I told you once that you weren't a freak?"
"You're taking it back?"
"Very much so."
"Ha. Blow me."
"What?!"
"Take my dick out of my pants, wrap your pretty mouth around it,
and suck. Me. Off." Lex was staring out the window again, face
blank and eyes closed.
And Clark... shivered. There was a moment when his mind was
helpfully suggesting all sorts of ways he could respond to that,
but it didn't stop him from shifting in his seat. Lex flickered a look
his way, half a smile that Clark couldn't respond to with anything
but his bent head.
Bending head.
Giving head.
"Clark, Jesus --!"
Clark looked up awkwardly from where he was working on Lex's fly
and smiled, a little meanly. "I won't believe you if you say you were
kidding."
"Just because I want it is no reason... fuck --"
"You're hard, and you're too drunk to play me like you usually do,
so... shut up."
"Don't... don't make me tell you another limerick..."
Clark laughed softly against Lex's boxers, breathed humid over them
when it made Lex twitch. In the absence of having *any* idea of
what he was doing, he was just going to go with anything that made
Lex lose a little (more) control. "I don't care."
"That's what... that's what you say *now* oh Jesus Clark --"
Sucking hard on the head of Lex's cock through the silk and there was
a tentative hand on his head. Sweetly shaky and gentle. "How long
have you wanted me to do this?"
"Trojan horse -- ah -- do that again... you were looking... so fucking
*young* --"
Clark laughed again. "Pervert." Eased Lex's boxers down over his
erection and listened to Lex trying to catch his breath. Easier than
dealing with his own... it wasn't shock. He'd already guessed, but...
God. Licked Lex's mound. Did it again to get a better sense of the
*taste*. Salty-hot and something sweet and mild that might've been
soap. Lex's cock bumped and nuzzled his cheek and Lex's hands
were getting bolder.
"Yeah... yeah, Clark, I'm a sick fuck. Wanna do... so many things.
Suck me. Please." Last word bitten off exactly as it should be and
Clark couldn't hold in a moan.
Mouthed the rest of it onto the base of Lex's cock, opening wide
and letting himself drool. Sucking there because it was all the tease
he could manage and he *wanted* to tease.
Not a part of the jerk-off fantasies, or even the vague little wish-
thoughts that snuck into his head just before sleep.
Something else entirely to have Lex in his truck, hands tugging his
hair and babbling out... what?
"... man from Rangoon, whose father came far too... too soon oh
fuck Clark please --"
Clark choked on his own laugh and licked his way up the shaft,
shuddering at the feel of pre-come painting his cheek. "*Freak*."
"He hadn't the luck, to be born of a fuck, but was scraped off the
sheet with a spoon..." And Lex was laughing, thrusting at Clark's
mouth wildly, jerking back when the head brushed against Clark's
helpless smile. "Ah God, Clark, please do it..."
Opened his mouth and sucked in the head, feeling something
white-hot and raw coil in his belly and make his cock just *throb*
at the high whining noise Lex made.
"Yeah... yeah, that's... can't believe -- *fuck* --"
Clark wrapped his fist around the base of Lex's cock and squeezed,
catching pre-come on his tongue and moaning and --
"Clark --"
His own name broken on Lex's tongue and if this wasn't precisely
what he'd imagined with a drunken Lex at his disposal, it was still
pretty sweet. Clark smiled around Lex's cock and went down until
he could kiss his fist, an odd sensation he couldn't quite classify,
but Lex felt *good*.
Tasted good, yeah, better than his own, and not even the feel of
his own blush could make Clark stop, because... *God*.
Lex's cock in his *mouth*, heavy and hard and thickening and --
"Oh God Clark oh fuck *me* --"
Too much, way too good, and Clark had to give himself a vicious
squeeze to keep from coming in his pants because, yeah, that was
possible, too...
"You like that... ohhh... oh, *yeah*, Clark... I'd let you. Bend me
over... over the hood of this stupid truck. Fuck me so hard --
ah --"
And Clark was groaning around Lex's cock, couldn't stop, pushing
up against Lex's hand until he got the hint and let Clark fuck his
mouth that way. Blunt head of Lex's cock bumping hard against
the back of his throat, sweet slick slide of the shaft over and over
his lips --
"Oh, you're so good, you're so fucking perfect how did I --"
Rush of feeling nothing like orgasm and Clark wanted to scream
or cry or laugh or beg or anything to get *more* of this and know
he wouldn't have to stop. Swallowed convulsively and suddenly
Lex was in his *throat*.
Heard himself make a keening noise as Lex froze all over for a
moment, moved his hand and swallowed again and Lex was *inside*,
hands tight in Clark's hair and pumping those slim pale hips and
*fucking* Clark.
Up and up and up and Clark kept sucking, kept moving his tongue
because he thought it might be the only thing keeping him sane
and --
"Clark --!"
Lex thrust *hard* and came down his throat, gasping and shaking
his way through it and holding Clark in *tight* for long moments
until he finally fell back against the seat.
Clark swallowed and swallowed until Lex whimpered and he
remembered how sensitive *he* got after coming. Pulled off slowly
and sat up, falling back against the driver's side door, dazed and
aching and wide-eyed.
Lex was sprawled against the seat, panting and tucking himself away
with slow, jerky motions. "Fuck."
"Um. Yeah."
Lex licked his lips. Turned slowly to Clark and looked him up and
down, smiling.
Clark realized he was still holding his dick through his pants like
it
might try to get away at any moment. Hell, it *might* if Lex kept
looking at him like that.
Luthor Scion Assaulted By Alien Penis, news at eleven. Clark started
laughing and couldn't stop until he had a lapful of Lex, kissing him
hard, pushing him back and tilting his head for a better angle and
God, just *taking* the kiss.
Licking every trace of himself out of Clark's mouth and turning every
laugh to something deeper, darker.
"Lex..." God, so hard it might kill him.
"Yeah... you're so fucking pretty, Clark..."
And Lex undid his fly easily, one-handed. Other hand pressed against
the center of his chest and very clearly telling Clark to stay put.
God,
Lex's *hand*. Strong and oddly callused, or maybe it was the angle,
and Clark thrust up into it once, again when it made Lex tighten his
hold.
"You ready for me, Clark?"
Clark had no words for the sound he made.
"I'll take that as a yes..." And then Lex shifted back just enough
to --
Oh Jesus *God*.
Swallowed Clark down in one smooth move, making it look effortless,
and Clark was scrabbling for something to hold onto that wouldn't
break or bleed as Lex hummed and sucked and swallowed --
"*Lex* --"
So *wet*.
Hot and slick and tight, so... so *fucking* tight and Clark finally
clasped his hands behind his head and focused on not thrusting
hard enough to send Lex flying, but Jesus so *good* --
"Lex oh Lex I want... your *mouth* oh please don't stop oh God
God --"
Hand behind his balls, one insinuating finger slipping, pressing --
"Lex!"
And Clark heard his knuckles crack and came hard enough to see
colors, squeezing his eyes shut and babbling nothing he could
make sense of as Lex swallowed, God, all of him.
Came back to himself with a shuddering sigh that was promptly
swallowed by Lex.
More kisses. Yes, please. Clark wasn't sure he had any brain cells
left, but it absolutely didn't matter when Lex was *sharing* Clark's
come like that. Slow and messy and oh, God, *sex*.
Disentangled his hands from each other and wrapped his arms
around Lex, pulling him in close and deepening the kiss as much
as he could.
Lex was all muscle, lean and hard and hot against him. Perfect.
Eventually, Clark settled them into something close to horizontal
with Lex's mouth pressed against his throat. Wet, soft mouth
making him shiver.
God.
Clark stared up at the roof of the truck and tried to remember the
basics of who he was.
Clark Kent, check.
Alien, check.
Virgin, no check. An emphatic *lack* of check, as a matter of fact.
Wow. Cool.
Clark grinned and squeezed Lex a little. "You still conscious?"
"Why? Planning on taking advantage of my drunkenness some
more?"
Clark froze.
Lex punched him in the ribs. "I'm *kidding*. Take advantage at
will. I'll drink more if you think it'll help."
Clark could feel the smile against his skin. "God, such a freak."
"Mm-hmm. But you have more life experience now, don't you?"
"You're not really going to try to apply this to limericks, are you?"
"Hmm... There once was a farmboy named Clark --"
"I will make you *walk* home."
"... who molested rich boys in the dark..."
"It's a really long walk, Lex."
"Um... lessee... he sucked and he sucked, but he still hasn't
fucked --"
"*Lex*."
"Is there any better reason to park?"
"I *hate* you."
Lex snickered. "My inner poet kicks ass, just admit it."
Clark groaned. "I'm never letting you drink again."
"Hmmph. You're just jealous."
"Yeah, well, the last line had too many syllables."
"You're criticizing my limerick form?"
"Damned right, I am."
"Bitch."
"I really, really, really hate you."
"Suck my cock."
"No."
"... meanie."
Clark snickered helplessly. So maybe he'd let Lex get a *little* drunk
sometime in the future.
"Sucky suck?"
A long, long time in the future.
End.