Disclaimers: Not even close to mine.

Spoilers: Vague one for Tempest.

Summary: Lex doesn't ask if Clark's ready.

Ratings Note: NC-17.

Author's Note: Well, see below.

Te: Hokay. Quick and dirty porn. Loosen the muscles. SPIKE! Give
me an improv.

The Spike: ummmm... cherries. tar. sparkle.

For Livia's Bradbury Title Challenge.

Acknowledgments: To the late-night IRC crew, to Becc and Jenn
for pointing out problems (remaining ones aren't their fault, of
course), and to the divine Miz E.: Consider this a deposit.

Feedback: Yes, please.

*

He doesn't ask if Clark's ready.

Lex doesn't ask, and Clark's mind seizes on that with a kind of
scary desperation. Like *that*, more than anything else, is the
most important thing going on here.

Blunt teeth catch him behind the ear, and Lex hums out something
like a growl. Clark can feel his knees buckling, his fists clenching.

He didn't ask.

"Lex --"

Hand on his mouth, long, strong fingers dragging over his lips and
down. Palm flat to Clark's chest and his heart is beating like an
accusation.

Lex shoves him hard, shocking enough to make him stumble, trip
over his own feet and land sprawled in the dirt. "Wha --?"

But he doesn't need Lex's shaken head, the brief glitter in his eyes
to know he isn't supposed to say anything.

Lex didn't *ask*, and now he's standing over Clark, backlit like
the best art, like Clark's best nightmares. Standing over him and
stripping off his shirt, and Clark's so hard he aches. Wants to thrust,
even with nothing to push (into) against, even fully dressed.

He's not sure if he knew this would happen when Lex pulled over.
Just another drive to nowhere, somewhere, silence between
them -- had it been tense? Had Lex watched him more than usual
from the corners of his eyes?

Lavender silk in the dirt by Lex's feet and bare skin beneath and
the questions judder to a halt. Clark can't tear his eyes away from
the sight of Lex's hands on his belt buckle.

Sharp tug. Release. Pull.

The sound makes Clark think of snakes, of unrelenting sunlight on
glittering scales, of his dry, dry throat and slickening, thickening
cock --

Can't wait for whatever game this may be (he didn't ask), just
opens his jeans and tugs them down with his shorts, down around
his knees (didn't ask just took just bit), yanks his shirts over his
head, and when he looks up again Lex is still holding the belt.

Moans aloud before he can even think about trying to hold it in,
because he's *heard* of this, and even if it's nothing that (belongs)
happens anywhere near Smallville, neither are he and Lex. Wrist-
flicker and Lex is sliding the tongue of the belt in lazy trails over
Clark's chest and belly.

His throat when he turns his head to pant.

His cock, and *that* makes him jump, thrust. Arch a little.

"Clark."

That's it. Just his name, but it makes him squeeze his eyes shut.
Shudder against the heat, the rising thick scent of sex and road tar,
the sparkles of color behind his eyes.

"You really would let me whip you in a field in the middle of nowhere,
wouldn't you?" Lex's voice is a low murmur of appreciative
amusement, almost sleepy in its huskiness.

And Clark *wants* to have something to say to that, something witty
and clever or at least sexy, but all he can think about are all the late
night phone calls that Lex never complained about. All the times his
voice had sounded like that and Clark had just assumed...

"What if I wanted you tied?" Lex drops smoothly to his knees,
straddling Clark's thighs. Firm hand on his jaw, another brushing lazy
over his eyes. "Blindfolded?"

"I... please --" Clark bites his lip and forces himself not to shake Lex's
hand loose. He hadn't meant to say that.

Low chuckle. "All of the above?"

Clark shudders and digs his fingers into the soil, some insanely
practical part of his mind noting its relative dryness and wondering
about drought even while the rest of him is trying to remember how
to breathe. "Lex." More a gasp than a word, and Lex tilts his head.
Leans closer in a perfect exaggeration of attention.

Did he assume Clark was ready for... this? Whatever this was? "Lex,
I just... I want..."

Shark's smile, brief and terrifyingly real. "So do I." And Lex's palms
are flat on his chest, splayed for a moment, almost cool. Almost a
relief just to be *touched*, in the implicit promise of an end to the
tease.

"*Please*."

Lex curls his hands into claws and rakes them down Clark's torso,
short, sharp nails digging in hard, not hard enough, and Clark hears
himself make a sound more crow-like than human.

"Oh God --"

Again and Clark pushes up into it, eyes open just long enough to see
the hungry gleam in Lex's own before he has to close them.

Again and Clark arches, wants to beg, the scratches end lower on his
belly every time and he can *feel* his skin everywhere, touched and
untouched. He's sweating and Lex is scratching him, just *scratching*
him, and his cock bobs with every dig, every release.

Again and Lex hums low in his throat, making Clark aware of the
sounds *he's* making, and God, yes, he wants this. Lex knew it
and waited and waited and now he's not waiting anymore and Clark
is writhing in the dirt for this.

"Beautiful. You like this..."

"Oh God oh f-fuck --"

Hands on his wrists, pushing them down hard for a moment before
pulling them up over his head. Lex braced above him like something
out of a primitive triumph, and it's his eyes more than anything else
that leave Clark feeling utterly helpless.

Lex is *restless* behind them, awake and aware and more alive
than Clark has ever seen him. Electric and focused on him, shifting
just enough to rock their hips together.

Thin, soft wool like air, like sandpaper on Clark's sensitized cock and
it's nowhere near enough, but it'll make him come anyway if Lex
keeps doing it.

If Lex keeps looking at him like something wild and newly caught.

Owned.

The thought makes him groan and he can feel himself shooting
pre-come on Lex's pants. Staining them, getting them dirty, getting
*Lex* dirty, and suddenly Clark can picture this the other way
around. Holding Lex down effortlessly and grinding him down into
the good, good soil, scratching and biting and oh God fucking --

Cries out again and Lex squeezes his wrists hard, leans in to bite
kisses all over his mouth before rolling off entirely.

Clark reaches out blindly, opens his eyes to find Lex working at the
fly of his pants and swallows hard. Grabs his own cock to keep from
just ripping Lex's clothes off, because... naked.

He knows. He's seen. Lex has been injured too many times, Clark's
scanned him too many times for too many almost-innocent
reasons...

Hairless. Smooth.

Long and thick and cut and beaded wet at the tip, waiting for Clark's
hand, Clark's tongue, and he's speechless, frozen with the possibilities.
Now that sex is actually happening, everything is *real*, and Clark
wants to run away. Hide.

Or maybe just bury himself so deep inside it that he'd never be able
to find his way out.

No time to do either before Lex has a hand in his hair, pulling him
down into a hard, wet kiss that's nothing but intent. Mouth open and
*hungry* for it, and Clark barely manages not to fall over again when
Lex wraps his other arm around his back and hauls him close.

Hard and strong and smooth all over, hot and slick where they touch,
and Clark moans into Lex's mouth and finally gets his hands to work
well enough to *touch*. Sleek skin and the work of lean muscle
beneath and he thinks he'd do anything just to be allowed to have
this any time he wanted.

All the time, no matter how terrifying.

Lex breaks the kiss and smiles lazily at him, staring at his mouth like
a well-begun project. Tightens his hand in Clark's hair and tilts his
head back. "I could bite you all over..."

Will he have it in him to be humiliated at the sounds he's making?
Even long after Lex is done with him? "Please. Just... you can do
anything..."

Ruthless bite right at his pulse and Lex's fist is around his cock. "Like
this?"

"Oh God --"

And Lex jacks him hard and slow, twisting strokes nothing like the
ones Clark uses to get himself off... except that now he knows he
won't be able to use anything else. Lex holds his head steady,
staring, drinking in every reaction Clark can't hide, and it's good. So
good.

Unbelievably male in a way Clark hadn't even considered, and he
wants to kiss every callus on Lex's fingers. Lick them and rub them
against his tongue --

"We'll get to that."

Blushes hard and tries to dip his head, but Lex just tightens his hold.

"No. I want to see your face while I do this."

"Lex --"

"Don't try to hold in the sounds. I want to hear them."

"Oh God please, please..." And he's bucking into Lex's strokes now,
urging for faster, trying to twist his hips against Lex's rhythm, needing
more. Bites his lip hard --

"Open your mouth, Clark."

Shakes his head a little and Lex immediately stops stroking. Clark
opens his eyes and stares a little wildly. "No, don't --"

"Don't bite your lip."

"I..."

Lex's voice is deadly serious, but there's something dancing behind
his eyes. Clark doesn't trust it enough to call it laughter, at least not
any kind of laughter he knows, but... "I want to hear every sound you
make, Clark." Lex's possessive little squeeze to his cock makes him
gasp.

"Please..."

Lex's eyes fall shut for a moment before he grins. "Just like that."
Light trace of a fingernail up the underside of Clark's cock.

"You... you don't have to... I want --" Barely remembers not to bite
his lip when Lex starts stroking again. "I want this." So badly, he
doesn't say. What are you doing to me, he doesn't ask. "Please
don't stop..."

"Shh. Just take it, Clark." Easy, soothing voice and avid eyes and it
makes something wrench low in Clark's belly.

Something hot and painful-sweet like breaking open.

Clark clenches his fists at his sides, panting and moaning desperately,
shaking his head against the wet slap of skin on skin and the
unshakeable sense of being devoured by Lex's stare. "Need this. Need..."
No idea what he's trying to say, but Lex just nods.

Accepting it like his due and stroking faster, squeezing harder, and
it's a thought skittering around the edges of Clark's mind. Slippery,
hard to catch, harder to want with Lex working him so sweet, stoking
him so high. Chokes out a cry too high-pitched for his age. "Harder --"
And cuts himself off with a gasp, because *that's* it.

The shove, the scratching (so good so hot)... there's no way Lex is
treating him like someone who could be hurt.

"Oh God --" Comes hard and shaking, eyes squeezed shut against...
against...

He doesn't know. (no matter what happens, Clark...)

Opens his eyes warily just in time to see the tip of Lex's pink, pink
tongue tracing a lazy line through the come in his palm. Jesus.
Clark's cock twitches painfully. Lex watches him over his hand, licking
up every drop.

Cleaning himself like a *cat* and ignoring his own erection and the
amusement is back in his eyes.

When he's done, he leans back on an elbow, kicking his clothes off
the rest of the way and stretching out easily. They could be on a
bed. Anywhere. The setting sun is just making everything redder
(cherry), more explicit, especially with the lean and naked expanse
of Lex just... waiting. More naked than anyone else, ever, and
absolutely careless of it.

Clark crawls over awkwardly, pants still around his knees, and Lex
spreads his legs in welcome. Takes his cock in hand, whole body
tightening for a moment that makes Clark shiver. Open his (just
take it) mouth.

"Suck me," Lex says, and holds his cock away from his belly with
one hand. Traces Clark's cheek with the other. His mouth.

Flushes hard and he knows Lex feels him hesitate.

Two-finger tap to his lower lip followed by a slow stroke that
makes Clark feel like his mouth should be different than it is.
Rougher, maybe, more textured. Something to be petted. He can't
meet Lex's eyes. "I haven't --"

"You'll figure it out." Lazy, lazy smile in that voice and it pisses
Clark off. More than any of the rest of it. Pulled out into a random
field and worked like... like some kind of...

Stares at Lex hard and there's a flicker of *something* in his eyes,
but it's gone too soon for Clark to figure it out.

Clark toes off his boots, feeling the sole go on the right one and
knowing he'll catch hell for it but he needs to be naked now, needs
to be something other than half-dressed and... *young*, up against
a Lex with more weapons than Clark knows how to handle.

Braces himself over Lex and just *looks* for long moments, taking
in the long, wiry body and letting himself make comparisons. Too
hard for Lana. Too lean for Chloe. Too many shadows for Pete.
Nothing like anyone else in his life and --

"Clark?" A raised eyebrow.

Clark lets himself loom, just a little.

And then a little more.

Leans in close enough to kiss, to feel Lex's eyelashes brush his cheek
when he finally blinks, to taste the clementines on Lex's breath.

"I want this," he says, and kisses Lex slow.

Hard.

Taking every impromptu lesson and giving it back with tongue and
teeth until he can *feel* the change in Lex's response. Something
like the difference between indulgence and enjoyment.

Clark twines his fingers in Lex's around his cock, looks down
between them just to see what it looks like.

Almost better than it feels. Shivers and leans in to lick a stripe along
Lex's jawline, another at the taste of sweat. Pulls back again. "I
want this." And he's tempted to stroke Lex the way Lex had stroked
him, but does it his way instead. Pressure on the vein that makes
Lex jump.

Hiss out something that doesn't sound enough like pain to make
Clark want to stop.

"I want to hear you," and Clark meant it to sound pissed but he
surprises himself with just *how* pissed.

Lex's eyes fly open, shocky and dilate, and Clark finds himself
nodding at nothing.

"I won't let you fuck with my head."

And there's nothing easier than bending Lex up, getting his legs
over Clark's shoulders and going down.

Salt-sweet and wet, so wet. Hard in his mouth, on his lip, weight
on his tongue vulnerable and raw and Clark feels spit ribboning
down his chin. Lex bucks, twists, bent and stretched like something
performing for Clark's benefit, alternately silent and gasping fervent
curses.

"Clark, you -- Jesus *fuck* --"

Makes his ears burn. Makes him suck harder, take Lex deeper. Clark
cups his ass and squeezes hard, does it again when dying light
reminds him of how pale Lex's skin is. How well finger-shaped bruises
would show.

Someone needs convincing here, and it honestly could be either of them.

And Lex is reaching for his head, bucking and twisting, eyes wide
and stunned. For once, nothing in them but *this*. Lex is here, in this
moment. Surprised and helpless and oh *God*, Clark needs more.

Deeper. Something.

Pulls off just long enough to manhandle Lex into a better position,
forcing him upright, standing over him again, but swaying. Pliant.

Clark doesn't give Lex a chance to recover, just slips one hand
between his legs and grips his hip with the other. Swallows Lex's cock
in a move he'd been reading about, dreaming about --

"*Clark* --"

His own name like a cracked blessing, viciously good and nasty
sweet and yeah, this is better. Hotter.

Something between audacity and essential to slip a finger into
Lex's cleft, gather sweat and circle the little hole and Lex's cock
*flexes* in his mouth. Pulse of pre-come down his throat and
shaking hands on his shoulders and --

"*Clark* --"

Lex's pumping hips and it's all a promise. Fervent offering and
incoherent surrender -- Clark can *have* this. Right now, right
here, he can push Lex down in the dirt. Roll him over and taste
him everywhere, lick and suck and bite. Drive him higher, just
like this...

Clark shoves his finger in hard, moaning at the tight, tight heat
and Lex's hoarse cry.

Crooks it half-experimentally and Lex is coming, socketed tight
in Clark's throat, balls spasming against his chin and Clark wants
it all *now*. Hates time with a kind of blind, raw passion because
he can't fold it, twist it to make this happen again, or to move
past whatever comes after to the next time he'll get his hands on
Lex.

Pulls off and out slowly, lowering Lex back to the ground. Strokes
the long thighs and spreads them a little further apart, just
because he can. Kisses Lex's navel, kisses it like a mouth until he
can feel Lex's hands in his hair.

Until he can make himself look up.

Closed eyes and a tightness around the mouth that Clark
deliberately smoothes away. Or tries to.

Lex bites his thumb hard, opening his eyes with a suddenness that
makes Clark jump. Strong hand around Clark's wrist, thumb
pressed to the center of his palm and Lex eyes gleam with an
emotion Clark isn't sure of. He stares back as steadily as he can.

"Teaching me a lesson?" Smooth, bland tone.

"You -- liked it." Nicer than the first words that come to mind, but
Clark still winces internally at them. Thinks of Lex straddling him,
watching him not-bleed from a dozen hard scratches.

Lex's answering smile is a marvel of ravenous victory. A
conqueror's smile, even flat on his back and filthy with sweat and
dirt. "Yes," he says. "I did."

And Clark tries not to think about what, exactly, Lex has won.

End.