by Te
March 2003

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.


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 larger-
than-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."

"Lex --"

"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."

Lex blinked.

"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

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,

"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 --

"Lex --"

"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

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.

"Lex --"

"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...

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

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

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

"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.