Disclaimers: If they were mine, I'd probably sprain something
important.

Spoilers: The pilot.

Summary: Lex is an adaptable sort.

Ratings Note: NC-17.

Acknowledgments: To all the people I've subjected to my rank
pimpery and drooling fangirl lust. I ain't done.

Feedback is a lot more fun than wet boxers. Just trust me on
this. teland793@sbcglobal.net

*

The plan, such as it was, had been to wait for Clark to come
to him. After all, that's just the way these things went. Present
himself, offer glorious gifts, perhaps a teasing smile or two,
and wait.

Lex had, after all, learned quite young that actually making a
visible effort to get what one wanted was often, at best,
useless. Pathetic, really, when held up to the standards of the
inviolable Luthor code.

Luthors. From all Lex has seen, his ancestors had little to their
name but that wonderful intangible, the will to power. The
will to do anything to grab, wield, and maintain power for as
long as humanly possible. And even that is far too grand a
description for what, to all accounts, were just a long line of
mean-spirited and remarkably hirsute savages.

The Luthor estate had had to be rescued from some holding
company which could honestly care less.

The Luthor ancestry, in Lex's personal experience, is made up
of his father, and the grandparents that had been deemed
unworthy of his time.

In his better moments, Lex recognizes the Luthor code for
what it is -- a fascinatingly adaptable set of rules to make up
for the lack of what Father would deem an acceptable history.

The key word being, of course, adaptable.

And so Lex finds Clark, instead.

No gifts, this time.

An infinitely less flashy car.

The small detail, even, of leaving his driving gloves at home.
Impressions had to be made, after all, and not necessarily
on Clark himself. Lex spares a moment to be annoyed about
the rank... *honorability* of Clark's parents.

Things would be a lot easier if the Kents were more of the
sort Lex was accustomed to.

The memory of playdates arranged in exchange for influence.
The right sort of boys carted to his home for the right sort of
play, and Lex himself looking perhaps three hours out of the
children's cancer ward.

Those same right boys at all the right schools, the whispers
and laughter...

Of course, by the time he was Clark's age, Lex had learned
that most anything could be bought, including an end to petty
schoolyard humiliations.

His father had, no doubt, waited impatiently for Lex to pick
that up. Or perhaps it had all been a character-building
 exercise.

He's not entirely sure why he's dwelling on it, and has a
disturbing moment when he realizes that he's parked outside
the Kents' barn and, for all intents and purposes, lurking.

Pa Kent is no doubt loading his shotgun even as he sits. Lex
smirks at himself and looks up to find Clark, bale of hay over
one ludicrously broad shoulder and watching him.

Too far away for Lex to be able to see the look on his face.

If they had freshmen like that in *his* high school... he probably
would've gotten in the way of his father's rebuke a lot sooner.
Lex shakes it off and gets out of the car, closing the distance.

"Hey, Lex," and it's a smile on Clark's face, half-restrained and
curious. "What brings you out here?"

"I've come to drag you off for a long afternoon of... anything but
what you're doing right now."

Not even a hint of suspicion in the boy's eyes. Amazing.
"Sounds great, but there's a lot of work to do around here
before winter and..."

Lex wants to lick every tantalizing trace of regret off that face.
Steps closer. "And you have to do it all?"

Realizes immediately it was the wrong thing to say. Clark closes
up fast and obviously, looks over his shoulder. "Just my chores,"
with the telltale emphasis on the last word.

Clark has clearly received the 'rich folk aren't like us good,
normal people' lecture in very, very recent history. One of the
many little problems inherent in slumming. Lex throws up his
hands and looks as ingenuous as he can. "My mistake. Anything
I can help with?"

"Well, actually I'm almost done..." Pure, unadulterated guilt.
Paydirt.

"Then we *can* go play. C'mon, I promise not to endanger
either of our lives unless it's absolutely necessary."

"Lex..."

"There's absolutely nothing to do in that huge old house when
you're alone, you know. Incredibly dull, really..."

"Dull? Are you insane? God, your library alone, and even I'm
not *that* much of a geek, and all those suits of armor --"
Clark cuts himself off abruptly and Lex has to turn his head to
hide a smile.

"Everything's gorgeous through new eyes, don't you think?"

"Lex, look..." And Clark scrubs a hand through his hair. Turns the
sort of pleading look his way that really should be illegal on a
face like that.

"Clark?" He has to work very, very hard to sound innocent.

"I'm really not supposed to spend time with you."

"I... oh."

"I'm sorry, Lex, and God, I really appreciate everything you've
done, but..."

And Lex looks down at his shoes, dusty even from this short
walk. How much honesty and how much lie? An old and ever
 important question. "I really am an entirely different person
than my father, Clark."

"Lex --"

"I should go. I'll see you around town?" And Clark looks as
though someone's shredded his puppy. If it wasn't such an
attractive look on him -- that sweet, soft mouth -- Lex would
probably have to be genuinely angry at the boy's father. As it
is...

"Yeah. You will."

Enough determination in that voice to make Lex have to bite
the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. Taste of blood.
Memory of Clark.

More than enough to get Lex home in style.

*

And also more than enough, apparently, to get the original plan
back on track. If you can't get a boy to come to you after pulling
him off a cross, guilt and teenaged rebellion are always viable
options. Lex will have to make a note about that.

Just as soon as his libido stops crowing over the sight of shyly
smiling Clark Kent on his doorstep, looking at him from under
his lashes. Which shouldn't be possible, considering the boy's
height, but... it works. The hunched shoulders, maybe.

"Clark! It's good to see you. How did you manage to... or
shouldn't I ask?"

"Uh... maybe it's better not to ask."

Lex offers a rueful smile and nods. Let's leave all that father
business comfortably unspoken and assumed, yes? Yes.
"Well, come in! I'll give you the guided tour, and, after you've
regained consciousness we can go swimming or something."

"Uh, swimming? It's not *that* warm out, Lex."

"Who said anything about out?" And God, it's like getting away
with something outrageous just to lead Clark further and
further into the house, one hand on Clark's sun-warm shoulder.
Like something irrevocable. "The pool's downstairs, Clark.
Indoors, climate controlled, and ready to be used."

"Jeez, this place really does have everything, doesn't it?"

"Including the bald maniac haunting it's hallowed halls, yes. So
what do you say? Up for it?"

And Clark laughs but shakes his head. "Maybe another time? I
didn't bring my trunks."

The image of Clark slicing through the water, gracefully naked
comes far too easily. Stops himself from suggesting it only
through sheer force of will. "Well, I'm assuming you're wearing
underwear..." Which isn't much better, judging by the blush on
Clark's face. "We can swim in our boxers. No one here to judge,
right?"

And for the first time, Clark looks at him with something... other
in his eyes. Lex wonders if he's gone too far, but Clark seems to
dismiss it, whatever it was, and nods. "Right." Smiles at him.
"Okay."

"Great! Now, what's first? Library, armory, conservatory, random
rooms full of hideous and hideously expensive furniture?"

Laugh he wants to taste. "Your home, your choice, Lex."

"Home. Hm. Well, I suppose that's *one* word for it. C'mon, let's
hit the library. You'll then be able to tell people with an absolutely
straight face that you were studying."

"Uh, huh. Right. Studying what, exactly?"

"Something involving books no one really wants to read?"

"Okay, that sounds sufficiently school-like."

"See? I'm good at this."

Watches almost helplessly as Clark looks his fill at the 'ancestral
library.' Enough wonder on the boy's face to remind Lex of his
actual age with something like a start and more of the creeping,
wonderful feeling of transgression.

The monster in the mansion.

It's good to be alive.

"Anything in particular you're interested in? What do you like to
read?"

"Hunh? Oh, uh, lots of things. Mostly non-fiction."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Lots of strange, incredible stuff out there, you know? And
I'm kind of into astronomy. It's just... the universe is so
unbelievably vast.... So much out there that we just don't know.
I wind up staring through my telescope most nights, just to
*see*..." Clark trails off, obviously embarrassed. "Well, um.
Yeah. Astronomy." Crooked grin that makes Lex blink.

"But still no science-fiction for you?"

"Oh, I like the movies, but, you know... they get so much
*wrong*." Clark's hands shoved in his pockets, pushing his
jeans not nearly low enough on his hips. "God, I sound like a
complete freak, don't I?" Honest question mixed in all that
teenaged insecurity.

"Then you're in good company, I guess." Gives Clark a smile
and waits to see what he does with it. Wants to breathe in the
scent of him relaxing his stance, there should *be* a scent to
it. Something remotely tangible to describe that particular
triumph.

And that of holding Clark's gaze long enough to boggle at the
boy's phenomenal innocence. Lex hasn't been this unsubtle in
a long time, and it wears, a little, on his patience.

More than enough reasonably flat surfaces to lay Clark out on,
stretch those long, strong limbs wide again.

This time for no one's amusement but Lex's own.

Clark gives him another grin and wanders through the library,
not quite touching anything. Lex resists the urge to follow on
his heels.

"You can take anything you want, of course. Personally, I like
 a good escapist fantasy, myself. Plenty for both of us, here..."
Watches Clark pause, some volume or another half-off the
shelf.

"Thanks, Lex, but..." Sheepish look.

"No gifts at *all*?" Which does, actually, throw him a little. So
much for that lovely platinum collar idea, apparently.

"It's just... my Dad..."

"Doesn't want you to owe me in any way, shape, or form,
right?"

"That's pretty much it, yeah. He just..."

"Doesn't trust me as far as he can throw me -- no, it's okay,
Clark, really. Eventually people won't automatically associate me
with my father. I have a nice little fantasy, all about having a
name that doesn't mean anything to anyone. Maybe not even
myself." Lex smirks a little and slips close again.

Places the book firmly in Clark's hands and suppresses the
double take at the fact that it's Nietzsche. Why on earth...? Lex
quashes the thought for later and looks up into Clark's eyes.
"Just a fantasy, Clark. But in the meantime... you can come here
to read whenever you want to. I'll have a key made."

"Lex, what... I mean..."

"Work with me here, Clark. You can honestly say that you're..."

"... going to the library. Right, Jesus, Lex, you hardly even know
me!"

"Well, now, that doesn't have to last *too* long, does it?"

"I... no. No, it really doesn't."

*

Heat like a warm, wet caress as they descend the stairs to the
pool. The sharp bite of chlorine.

The carpeting here is, by necessity, a rougher grade than that
in the upstairs rooms and Lex curls his toes into it a little.

The tickle and scratch. He's been half-hard since introducing Clark
to fencing. There'd been no uniforms to fit him, of course, and
there was something... strange in the violent little dance without
them.

Informal and freeing, as though Lex hadn't quite been breathing
before.

It had taken a while to get Clark to loosen up a little, even with
the lighter (and blunted) epees that Lex hadn't been allowed to
use since he was fifteen.

The endless opportunities to touch, to show Clark where and
how to bend. The curious shuffling movements had made him
laugh at first, and then Lex had showed him how to *use*
them.

Absolutely exhilarating to be faced off against the boy, knowing
exactly how to exploit every last bit of practical naivete.

Clark had asked when they'd get to the lessons about swinging
from curtains to save the damsel in distress.

Lex had placed the tip of his blade against Clark's throat and
reminded him of the villain who needed to be bested first.

Clark had given him the look that's left him hard since. Searching
and deep.

Naked.

Lex shakes it off as best he can and leads Clark to the changing
room, half-aware of Clark taking in all the marble and spare
grandeur as just another goad. Tries to keep the heat out of his
eyes as he strips, thankful for whatever urge had made him
decide to wear boxers today.

Clark's eyes on him like a weight, and Lex wonders when the boy
will ask about his lack of body hair, or if he's just assuming Lex
depilitates extremely thoroughly. Turns to find Clark with just his
shirts off, puddled around his wrists like an invitation to
makeshift bondage.

"You're wondering about the hair, aren't you?"

"Oh, well, I. Um." Blushes all the way to his hairline. Endearing
enough to make even this little ritual enjoyable.

"It's okay, Clark, everybody does. Are you old enough to
remember that meteor shower in '89?"

It makes him flinch. "You... you were caught in it?"

"Wandering through the cornfields. The radiation exposure left
me the freak you see before you today." Careful, careful smile in
his voice.

"You're *not* a freak. You... you're just not, okay?" Strangely
vehement, and Clark is very close.

Dangerously close to trying to comfort him, if he was a woman.
Lex does his best to keep his eyes from narrowing and smiles,
instead. "All right, Clark. I'm not a freak."

Sunny grin Lex wants to bite and Clark is toeing off his shoes
and stripping down. Warm, strong hand on Lex's shoulder, a
squeeze, and Clark is running for the pool, diving in with a
whoop and surfacing fast.

"It's so warm!" Dark hair plastered to his skull and, God. The
boy gives smiles as though he has an endless supply. "C'mon,
Lex!"

And he goes, slices into the seemingly blood warm water in his
own dive and surfaces right in front of Clark. "Nice, isn't it?"

"God, it's great... I don't think I wanna leave!"

Which could certainly be arranged, but probably not quite yet.
Lex swims back a few feet.

Grins like a shark.

And splashes Clark viciously.

"Wha --? Oh you're going down for that, Lex!"

And the chase is on.

Lex would have bet he was the better swimmer of the two, but
Clark has no trouble keeping up with him in the water, catching
hold of Lex's arm just long enough to send a wave of water in
his face before swimming back laughing. And the only possible
answer to that is to dive down low enough to catch Clark by the
legs and *yank*.

Bodies sliding together and Clark is still grinning, pushes Lex
away a little and the slide of Clark's hands on his chest is
something to be treasured.

Lex wants to know, very badly, what he feels like to Clark.

Surfaces first, but only for a heartbeat before Clark has him in
a close, awkward hold and he still, still, hesitates long enough
for Lex to take a breath before pulling him under.

So careful, he thinks, and wrestles against the boy, thinking
almost helplessly of oil and sweat and the absolute
ridiculousness of being clothed, however briefly, right now.

Briefly face to face, long enough for their legs to tangle and
Clark has the strangest expression of *focus* on his face, as
though there was much more here than the press of bodies
and the struggle to win whatever game he thinks they're
playing.

Lex wants to believe the focus is for his benefit alone.

Lex wants to know his blue-eyed boy's secrets even more.

Tries to push off, more to touch Clark than anything else, but
Clark won't let him go. Grins a little wildly at him and swims them
*fast* through the water, still tangled, still pushing at each other,
and it's.

Almost like flying.

Up for air and he's gasping, pressed back against the wall of the
pool, Clark looking at him with something between sheepish
concern and excitement. "Oh. Uh. God... I really didn't think..."

"What?"

"I mean, the accident..."

And Lex is absolutely clueless for a moment, caught up with
breathing and trying to breathe Clark in under the chlorine before
it hits him. Really hits him and the water is cold and the world is
black and.

"Lex! God, are you all right?" One hand on his face and Clark
pressing him back against the wall of the pool with his body
and Lex.

Has to laugh. "I'm fine, Clark. Besides, you'll save me, right?" And
leans in to kiss him, once, gently. Mouth soft as a woman's and
it's all he can do not to dive in with all of himself. Pulls back.

Waits.

Shock in Clark's eyes, but not pure shock. No, not pure at all.
Body to body and Clark has to feel him. Has to *know*. Lex
turns his head against Clark's palm, lets his eyes fall almost
closed. "Clark..."

And Clark pulls back, but only slowly. Touches his mouth. "Is... is
that. I thought you wanted to be friends, Lex." More confusion
than betrayal and something in that voice hits him low in the belly.
Makes Lex want something he doesn't have a name for, only the
vaguest of images. Clark in his arms, head bent and close as they
were a moment ago.

Alive, yes, dangerously so. "I do, Clark." Tries on a rueful smile.
"And maybe... more?"

"I. I'm not. I mean I haven't. And I don't..."

"I want to touch you, Clark. Will you let me?" Reaches for him, and,
when Clark doesn't flinch, rests his hand against his cheek in a
mirror of Clark's earlier gesture.

Strokes his thumb over Clark's cheekbone. Lex isn't cold anymore.

"Can I kiss you again, Clark? I can show you... well."

"Lex, I don't think --"

"Please?" Holds Clark's gaze like something tangible, and lets
some part of the hunger he's been reining in for what feels like
decades show.

And Clark's eyes go dark.

And he leans in.

Kisses Lex back like any stout-hearted young man determined
to try something new, which, as far as Lex is concerned, is a fine
attitude to take.

Lex pulls them back against the wall and slips his free arm
around Clark, tugging him in, making him trap Lex against the
wall and. Tastes. Peanut butter and Clark and Clark's hands on
either side of him. Holding on.

Clark's mouth everything he wishes he remembered from the
riverbank, soft and hot and willing, and when Clark tentatively
slips his tongue into Lex's mouth, control is impossible. Moans
into Clark's mouth and sucks his tongue, kiss getting messier
as he tries to both tread water and tangle his legs with Clark's
own.

Lex teases and sucks and bites, just once, and Clark presses
hard against him for one incredible moment before pulling back,
eyes wide and wanting.

Watches Clark watch him lick his lips and holds very, very still
when he reaches out.

Touches Lex's mouth like a dangerous alien artifact, calluses
rough against his lips and Lex grabs his hand.

Slowly, deliberately sucks one finger into his mouth. Willing
Clark to want this as much as he does, because anything else
is absolutely unthinkable. Tests his tongue against the edge of
a blunt fingernail and then just goes down, eyes closed and
focused on the hand in his hand.

The finger in his mouth, long and still and utterly his.

"Lex..."

Pulls off with a wet sound and Clark's eyes are huge,
blue-rimmed pools. Too beautiful for words. "Let's go
upstairs."

"I. I haven't --"

Lex twines his fingers with Clark's own, squeezes gently. "It's
okay, Clark. I promise."

Lets go and lifts himself out of the pool, reaches out for Clark
who takes his hand and lifts out effortlessly, watching Lex all
the while. Boxers doing nothing but accentuate the clean lines
of his arousal, and Lex tilts his head up to kiss Clark again, one
hand at the small of his back.

"C'mon."

"Shouldn't we. Our clothes..."

"No one here but us, Clark. We can come back for them
later..."

Hesitation.

"Hey. Friends, right?"

"You've got an interesting definition of friend, Lex."

"Well, it really wouldn't do to bore you, now would it?"

"I'm not bored." Clark's hand on his shoulder now, the obvious
first step the boy just as obviously isn't sure how to make.

"You can touch me however you want to, Clark. I like..." Smiles.
"A lot of things."

Clark blushes, but doesn't look away, and they stand there
almost long enough for Lex to think the boy needs more
encouragement... but then Clark moves his hand. Over to his
throat, down the center of his chest and,

"You're so smooth..."

"C'mon."

And Clark follows. Up the stairs and into the master bedroom,
sheets still rumpled because Lex hasn't bothered to hire any
permanent servants yet. Late afternoon sunlight and Clark
dripping on the floorboards. Clark staring fixedly at the bed and
Lex comes up behind him. Slips his arms around Clark's waist and
mouths the back of his neck until he shivers.

"That. That feels good..."

Flattens his palm against Clark's hard stomach and pushes, just
a little. "Does to me, too."

Sudden, stark image of himself licking and sucking his way down
Clark's spine and beyond. Spreading him wide and fucking him
that way, until Clark's knees buckle, until they're on the floor,
rutting like animals.

Comes back to himself with his teeth sinking into the thin skin
over the knob of Clark's spine, his cock pressed against the
boy's ass. Clark's shivering constantly now and Lex.

Wants.

Slips a thumb beneath the waistband of the boy's simple cotton
boxers and earns a gasp that's as good as permission.

Slides them down over Clark's hips, kneels to get them low
enough for Clark to step out of. Clark's hands telegraphing the
desire to cover himself and Lex stands up again. Strips his own
boxers off and waits for the boy's reaction.

"No hair... God, that's --" And Clark's touching him, fingers flat
to the side of Lex's cock and it's his turn to gasp.

"Clark --"

"Can I?" Nothing but open, hungry curiosity and Lex feels himself
leaking pre-come.

"*Yes*..."

And Clark just... *feels* him. Like being experienced solely
through touch. One hand almost casually holding him still by the
hip and the other...

Petting him. A caress of knuckles over his balls and Lex groans,
tries and fails to buck. So *strong*.

Tease worthy of a thousand dollar whore and Clark is just...
focused on Lex's groin, on the almost dreamlike movements of
his own hand. Seemingly unaware of the arch and lift of his own
cock.

"Clark, please --"

Looks up sharply, lips parted and bruised looking. "I... what do
you want me to do?"

Lex barks a helpless laugh. "Anything. *Something*. You're
making me so hard, Clark... here." Shapes Clark's hand around
his cock. Squeezes a little.

And Clark gets the message, jacking him slowly, awkwardly at
first before finding a rhythm that makes Lex need to hold on.
Clark's gaze on his face intense enough for study and Lex gets
the sense he's being learned.

God, almost angry at the lack of control he has, what Clark
must be seeing...

But Clark seems almost starving for it, leaning in close enough to
kiss, but only resting his forehead against Lex's own. Watching
himself jerk Lex off like the only other option is blindness and Lex
starts to thrust, letting his body beg for it as best he can.

Clark's thumb teasing his slit on every upstroke now and he's
not going to last, not going to last, not -- "Clark..."

"Lex, you feel... you feel so good..."

"Oh, *fuck* --" And he's coming hard, fucking Clark's fist and
squeezing his shoulders hard enough to leave bruises. "Jesus,
Clark..."

"Oh, God..." Aching note in Clark's voice enough to keep Lex
upright.

Get them to the bed, down and kissing and Lex grabs Clark's wrist
and pins it down. Holds it there while he finally devours Clark's
mouth the way he's been wanting. The way some part of him has
started to *need*.

Clark's other arm wrapped around him, hand roaming and roaming
and Lex knows, *knows* Clark is getting off on the feel of his skin.
Hot, hard cock pushing at his belly, and Jesus, yes, a banquet of
teenaged boy. All his.

All his.

Breaks the kiss and straddles Clark, bringing his come-slick hand
to his mouth and licking it clean. Taste of himself and Clark, Clark,
finally coming through the chlorine. Sweat and something
strangely indefinable in his taste, addictive when mixed with Lex's
own.

Clark looking up at him, wide-eyed, but not so much afraid as *desperate*.

"Do you want me to suck your cock, Clark?"

"Oh, *God*..." And Clark bucks a little, but tenses more.

"I want to, Clark. I want to taste you."

"Lex..."

Clark's eyes squeezed shut and the rip of cloth as Clark actually
tears the *sheets*, but oh, God, one good tease... "Can I,
Clark? Can I suck you off?" Licks a strip up the center of Clark's
palm and just... watches.

Clark shuddering on the verge of begging for it, and Lex drinks
it in, barely aware of the hunger on his face and long past
caring. Reaches down to catch the pink, tiny nipples between his
fingers and.

Twists.

"*Lex*!"

"Tell me I can, Clark." Pauses. "Please."

Clark chokes in a breath, tries to bury his face in the pillow. Arches
off the bed when Lex twists again and, "Oh, Lex, please, yes,
anything, I need oh God I need --"

Sexiest thing he's ever seen and Lex can't tease a second longer.
Moves down the bed and spreads Clark wide. Thinks a promise at
the tight little hole and sucks the head of Clark's cock into his
mouth, sucks hard at it and drills the slit with his tongue,
expecting but not getting the warm weight of Clark's hand on the
back of his head.

Clark sobbing out something like his name and arching, arching.

Coming with a yell before Lex gets halfway down his shaft and
then pushing him off, scooting back against the headboard.

"Oh jeez, oh God, I'm so sorry, Lex, I couldn't... I didn't mean to
come in your mouth."

Slick, hot, and that same subtle strangeness. Lex licks his lips.
Follows Clark on hands and knees, slips his fingers into his hair
and leans in close. "*I* meant you to."

And kisses Clark hard. Swallows the small, trapped sound he
makes and lets him taste himself. And then just loses himself
in the kissing, coaxing Clark with his tongue, with his hands
and body until they're stretched out again, Clark half on top of
Lex and rapidly learning every trick to this that Lex can
demonstrate.

The solid weight of him, the heat, the incredible power of being
able to say yes to every question in Clark's eyes.

The slow-building confidence of Clark's hands, skin-hungry and
restless on Lex's body.

He's going to be hard again very soon.

He's going to show Clark everything.

Breaks the kiss to mouth down the boy's throat, unwillingly
careful of leaving marks. One hand in Clark's hair and the other
on his ass, loving the fine, muscled shape of it against his palm
and every hint of potential.

Clark's soft sounds and guileless trust.

Clark's sunny, sheepish smile and thumb on Lex's lower lip.
"God, Lex. That was..."

Digs his thumb into the base of Clark's spine. "Not even close
to finished?"

"Oh. Oh, wow..."

Can't help but grin back. "Come back here, you..."

"Oh, that sounds um. Good. Really, really, really good, but it's
getting late, Lex. My parents will be wondering... oh, man.
They'll be wondering where I've been."

"No, they'll *know* where you've been if you look like
*that* --"

"I don't want to lie to them, Lex."

"You won't. You were at the..."

"Library. And the armory. And the pool. And your bedroom,
God, Lex, I can't believe we --"

"The library should be sufficient, I think. And believe it, Clark. Or
don't. We can do this as many times as it takes to sink in."

Something almost like a sly grin. "We can, hunh?"

"Oh, yes. Starting right now --" Moves to pull Clark down for
another kiss, but Clark slips his hold easily, still grinning.

"Nuh-uh, I gotta go home. The *last* thing I need is to be
grounded..." Picks his boxers up and grimaces. "Okay, that's
the second last thing I need. The *first* last thing is to put
these back on."

"Don't look at me, Clark, I'm the one appealing for continued
nudity."

Deep red blush and Lex can *see* it hit Clark again. An
honest-to-God virgin.

*His* virgin. Damage control time.

Slips out of bed and moves to grip Clark's shoulders, run a
thumb up and down the side of his neck. "Are you all right?"

"I... yeah, Lex, I'm just..." Clark looks down at his feet. "I'd
never done anything like that before."

"First times are always a little crazy, Clark."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Second times, on the other hand..."

"You. You really... want me."

"Stay and let me show you how much."

And Clark actually sways toward him for a moment before
pulling back. "God, Lex. Your skin... I've gotta go. Find my
clothes."

Just begging to be convinced, as far as Lex can see. Almost,
*almost* pulls Clark in again before the thought of the boy
being grounded, trapped in that farmhouse, *away* from him
actually sinks in. "Mmph. Okay. Let's get you --"

And Clark kisses him, fast and hot and blinding.

"-- dressed. Or, again, let's not."

Clark searching Lex's eyes for long, long moments before
smiling, shyly. "Dressed."

"Right, of course, because there isn't anything, anything at
all you'd rather do right now than get home..."

"Lex..."

Has to grin. "All right, I surrender. Clothes it is."

Manages, barely, to let the boy out of the house. Too many fairy
tales to count, really. Clark waves at him from the end of the
drive and Lex gives him a lazy salute.

Knowledge in his bones that he'll be back.

Clark.

*

Lex's office is the only room in the house that's been lived in
properly, but he isn't entirely averse to what that says about
him as a person.

There are, after all, certain things left to be proven.

There will be a day when Lex has nothing to prove to anyone.

The strange necklace sits in his desk drawer, daring him to think
about the afternoon.

Glaring reminder of just how far he'd slipped, being as how he'd
forgotten all about the odd little thing.

Lex toys with the idea of berating himself for it, idly and for more
time than he's quite aware of. The importance of control versus
the pathetic stereotypicality of inviting his father into his head.

The ruin of a perfectly lovely day, either way.

Decides to shelve the issue for another day.

So long as there were no consequences, he really didn't need
the bullshit.

End.