Disclaimers: If they belonged to me, I'd encourage this sort of thing.
Spoilers: Vague ones for Leech.
Ratings Note: NC-17.
Summary: Lex is working out. Clark asks too many questions.
Author's Note: Jenn said: Dom!Lex, daytime, sex somewhere
'unusual.' She was also good enough to help me figure out how Lex
should have his Special Moment.
Acknowledgments: To Jenn, of course, and to my We for much
encouragement, and also to Livia. I will throw orgasms at her until
she throws them back. And Miz E? Wholesome CLexy fun, all for
Feedback gives you the moral high ground. email@example.com
Clark finds him in the gym. It's more than a little mind-bending that Lex has his own home gym, but then Clark learned months ago to expect the unexpected when it came to the castle.
A slightly kinder way to put it than his father would.
Clark grins a little and watches from the doorway as Lex lopes quickly, easily on the treadmill. Wonders what he's picturing. Clark's never really seen the point of treadmills for people who weren't, like, allergic to *air*.
What's wrong with going outside and running around?
From the sweat-stains on Lex's t-shirt, he's been doing this for a while. It's not like the castle grounds would be too *big* for him to run around. Lex is... fit. Something about the length of slack in the wire for his headphones, the way it bounces on Lex's belly and thigh...
Lex is *lean*.
Had he gone running in Metropolis?
What was it like when you had to dodge people every few steps?
There's something a little *wrong* with the idea of Lex bumping shoulders with everyone and anyone on the Metropolis streets. Doesn't seem like something Lex would ever *volunteer* to do. Not that he's a snob, but...
Clark looks up when he hears the treadmill hum to a stop. Lex is wiping his hands on a monogrammed towel and giving him that cock-eyed, head-tilted grin. The one that suggests Lex already knows everything you're thinking, and is just waiting to see if you'll try to lie.
Clark smiles back and tries not to blush. "Hey, Lex. I was just... ah. Looking around for you to say hi. So... hi." Clark has the distinct impression that Lex is always going to make him feel a little stupid.
"Hi yourself. What can I do for you today?"
"I... you know, I wanted to ask you about that." It's as good an opening as any. Maybe.
"The 'what can I do for you' thing. I always feel like... I don't know. Like I'm applying to your bank for a loan. Er... when you say stuff like that."
Lex looks briefly quizzical and dips his head. To hide a smile? "You have a point, I guess. You're wondering why I say it?"
Clark leans against the doorframe -- a better alternative to scuffing his feet, and yes, he *is* aware it's a move he's picked up from Lex. "Well... yeah. Why not just, 'what's up?' or 'how are you?' or... anything."
And this time Lex is definitely smiling, though not necessarily at Clark. "You'll notice that both your suggestions imply personal interest in the life of the other person."
"Well... *yeah*, Lex. Isn't that what conversations are for? At least... conversations between friends."
Lex laughs a little. "Sometimes..." Shakes his head. "Okay, another point. Let's just chalk it up to my continuing education in the ways of Smallville?"
Clark rolls his eyes. "You're not going to tell me there's no one you cared about in Metropolis."
"Nope." Clark grinned and tried to make his pose a little more annoyingly insolent. "Because I think you're a better liar than that."
Raised eyebrow. "You think I'm a liar, Clark?"
Uh oh... No. Smooth. He can be smooth. "As a way of life? No. But I think that when you *choose* to lie, you probably do it well."
"How well?" Lex tosses the towel aside and moves to a weight bench.
"Hmm?" It's funny how sweatpants looked ratty and uninteresting on everyone *but* Lex...
"How well do you think I lie, Clark?"
Clark shifts a little, trying to see how much weight Lex was putting on. Is he the type to put on more than he normally would just because there was another guy in the room? "That's kind of an odd question."
Brief laugh, lost in the exhale as Lex lifts... wow. Looks like at least three hundred. "Any odder than the rest of this conversation?"
"Well, okay, no. I think... hmm. I think you could lie well enough that I'd never know."
"So you're the gold standard?" Lex sounds amused. "Aren't you the one that hides in your bedroom every April first?"
"God, I *knew* I'd regret telling you that someday."
"No information is bad information, Clark. Remember that."
Interesting, but... "Heh. Now you're lying."
The weights come down with a clang that makes Clark wince. "What?"
"You're lying. And also, you shouldn't lift without a spotter." Weird feeling inside. Something between satisfaction and fear. Lex probably didn't want Clark to call him on that.
Rough snort. "So come over here and spot me."
Clark walks over, doing his best to ignore the sudden sense of... well, calling it 'tension' would be kind of lame, and not quite accurate, besides. It's more like a kind of thickness to the air. Possibility.
Lex looks up at him in that kind of faux-idleness that Clark knows a little too well. Lion in the tall grass. Smiles at him as he wipes his hands on his jeans.
"So why do you think I'm lying?"
Clark blinks, barely has time to get his hands out and ready before Lex starts lifting again. It's not effortless, but Lex is... stronger than he looks. Sweat triangle on his chest, leading down to the ratty sweats. "Why don't you ever wear short sleeves?"
Lex's turn to blink. "Changing the subject?"
"Wha...? No, I was just wondering. I mean, I can understand not wanting to get a sunburn or something, but the sun is safely behind several tons of stone, you know?"
Crooked smile. "Just a habit I got into as a kid." Lex isn't anywhere close behind his eyes.
And Clark thinks he knows... something. Smiles down at Lex. "I bet it helps, though."
Lex's hand slips minutely on the bar as he's lifting and Clark reaches for another towel.
He can feel Lex's eyes on him, and Lex isn't the type to try to hide that sort of thing.
Never has been. At least, not with Clark.
Lex is studying him openly as he wipes his palms and the bar, very obviously trying to figure out what Clark is doing.
Which would be interesting, given that Clark doesn't have a clue.
Finally, Lex resettles himself beneath the bar and Clark gets back into position. Waits for it.
"Helps with what, Clark?"
"With your image."
"Yeah. Spoiled rich boy who just happens to be smarter than God, but really mostly harmless. Your clothes... no one would ever know you could bench three-fifty without giving yourself a hernia. No one would ever guess."
Lex is smiling to himself, a little sharply. "That's the image I put across?"
Clark shrugs. "Among other things."
"And you think that's why I wear long-sleeved shirts?"
"Hey, I've got another few years before I can major in psychology. I'm just saying that I bet it helps when people underestimate you."
"That's... a pretty cynical way of looking at things, Clark."
"Maybe. But I *am* trying to think like you, after all." Tries the grin that always gets him out of sticky situations.
Lex shakes his head and smiles lazily. "Thinking of a career in profiling? No, wait, don't answer that. I really don't want to know if you think of me as a serial killer."
"Torture any puppies as a kid, Lex?"
"Only the ones I planned to feed to my victims."
Clark snickers, backs up a bit as Lex sits up. Watches him as he stretches, trying to see the strength in the motion. Lex doesn't move like he's as strong as he is. Which makes Clark wonder if all that locker room swaggering is really necessary.
He'd suspected it wasn't, but...
Clark snaps out of it to find Lex rolling his shoulders. "Pulled muscle?"
"Just a strain, hang on..." Lex does something that looks painful and physically impossible besides with his arms and Clark winces. "What, you've never seen swimmers stretch?"
"Well, I haven't made a habit of hanging around the jocks just before practice, but if you think it'll help..."
Lex's smile is that glittery one that makes something inside Clark shiver and clench. The I'm-about-to-say-something-that-will-make-you-blush smile. "Oh, I don't know. There's something to be said for naked masculine camaraderie..."
Clark chokes. "*What*?"
Casual shrug. "In ancient Greece, among other places, it was a mark of honor to walk into the arena naked."
"Well, I suppose you couldn't hide anything..."
"Exactly. But then, if we go by that analogy, I'm downright dishonorable." Watchful smile.
"I think you just like people to wonder what you're hiding under all those clothes."
Lex stands up slowly, easily. Extends to a stretch and stands just far enough away that he doesn't have to tilt his head to look into Clark's eyes. "Yeah."
He does that a lot, and Clark finds himself trying to apply it to the rest of his little intro to Lex-psych game before he realizes that he hasn't answered the question. The question. About whether he wonders about what's under Lex's clothes. Oh. Has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep his X-ray vision from kicking in without his permission, and when he opens them Lex is settling in to do crunches.
It occurs to Clark that the set-up is kind of... primitive.
"I would've thought you'd have the latest equipment."
Lex shoots him a grin and settles his feet more comfortable under the bar. The padded board is tilted up high enough to give his gym teacher paroxysms of joy. "That's two."
"Questions you've skipped."
"What...?" Oh. "Oh, fine. I thought you were lying about the information thing because *no* one wants to know *everything*."
"That's kind of a vast generalization there, Clark."
"I know. And I'm willing to stand behind it."
Lex is doing his crunches quickly and smoothly, short, sharp exhales on every rise. Form perfect. He really is... fit. "All right. Name something you don't think I'd want to know."
"C'mon, Lex, I *like* you."
"And?" Breath, recline, up, breath. "What does that have to do with anything?"
Clark shifts to lean against the big, rectangular tower of exercise equipment, smirking past Lex's feet. "And do you really want me to put icky images in your head?"
Another snort. "*Icky*? Give me your best shot, Kent."
"Ooookay. Don't say I didn't warn you. Do you want to know..." Clark pauses for effect, but Lex might as well just be counting off reps in his head. "... what brand of condoms your father uses?"
"*WHAT*!?" Lex is frozen mid-crunch, fist around the spar and possibly, just possibly, shaking under the baggy clothes.
Clark grins as widely as he can. "Told you it was icky." But Lex is... absent again.
"You were talking about information I didn't want to know. I... see."
Takes a step forward and he can *see* Lex still all over. "Lex...?"
And Lex is back, just like that. Almost. "Okay, Clark, it's disgusting. But who knows what kind of information will be useful one day?"
"Okay, Lex? If you have to buy your Dad condoms he probably shouldn't be having sex."
"*No* one's parents need to have sex. Unless they're deeply attractive and want to have sex with *you* --"
Clark chokes again.
"But that's not the point. The point is that it's always better to be informed, no matter how... icky the information happens to be."
"See, but you don't *believe* that."
Lex jumps down from the sit-up board. "You're calling me a liar *again*?"
Clark puts up his hands, though Lex doesn't look precisely angry. "I think you *want* to believe that all information is good information. I think you like the idea that nothing can... touch you."
And Lex actually flinches. Narrows his eyes before visibly recovering. He doesn't smile. "Another point. But who's to say anything can?"
Clark raises an eyebrow and does his best to look nonplussed.
"You're pretty invested in the idea of me as just another guy, Clark --"
"I wouldn't say *that*."
"Who's to say your beliefs aren't coloring your... observations?"
"Well... who's to say your desires aren't coloring your beliefs?"
"My... desires." Lex smiles to himself. Grabs the towel and runs it over his scalp before hanging it over his neck. Half walks, half stalks up to Clark with his fists around either end of the cloth. "You want to talk about my desires, Clark?"
"I..." Oh. Clark blinks, and wonders if he's grateful that the equipment is keeping him from backing away now. Pride over intellect? "I still haven't answered your other question," he blurts, and immediately winces. It's not like that's going to help.
Lex just smiles. "By all means, go ahead."
"Er... no. I didn't wonder. What was under your clothes. I... thought I knew." Clark suspects that sounds exactly as stupid as he thinks it does.
"You *thought* you knew."
Clark grins sheepishly. "Regular guy, really rich, probably can't bench press professional wrestlers... just goes to prove what they say about assumptions."
Lex's smile this time is a little easier. A little. "What about now?"
"Uh... do you really want to know if I'm thinking about what you look like naked?"
"Well, when you put it that way... yes. Yes I do."
And Lex is right there. Humid heat and the *scent* of him. Clean sweat and the remnants of whatever cologne he'd put on that morning. Clark takes a deep breath without thinking and... not answering the question is as good as saying yes.
As terrifying? Because... "I wouldn't think. Um."
"Yes, Clark?" Richly amused, yes, but something else, too.
And he doesn't know how much longer he can pretend he doesn't know *exactly* what that 'something else' is. "I wouldn't think that... you're so. Lean." Reaches out before his brain can do more to stop this than scream silently and tugs a bit of fabric away from Lex's chest. Loose on him. No way for a normal person to tell... anything.
"Wha...? Oh. I... you'd have to have some kind of. Ah. Superpower. To know what was under there."
"I didn't always dress this way --"
"And you're hardly traipsing around the cornfields in cut-offs and wife beaters, Clark, so you don't have much room to talk."
"Yeah, well. Summer's coming." God, did he really just *say* that?
Low chuckle. "Is that a promise?"
"Why, are you planning on watching me do my farm chores when it gets hot?"
"Are there better things to do with my time?" And Lex's hand is on his own, curling around his fingers and squeezing, briefly, before pulling his shirt out of Clark's grasp.
Lex bites his chin. One quick nip, then one long *bite*. Not hard, but he... holds on.
Lets go and speaks against Clark's throat. "Mm. I think about what you're hiding under all those good boy clothes, Clark."
"You... you've seen it."
"Not all of it."
"I... oh." Clark swallows hard just as Lex starts sucking on his Adam's apple. Weird pressure of it and then it's just hot and wet and --
"Besides. You were hardly presented to your best advantage. I don't have a Christ fetish."
"That's... good to know?"
"Martyrdom is..." And Lex is licking him. Slowly, steadily. "... generally dull. And usually pointless."
And he pulls away, smiling. "Yes?"
"I'm... kind of out of my depth here..."
Lex closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them they're far too full to read. Better or worse than the opposite?
Hand on Clark's cheek, thumb rubbing his cheekbone almost absently.
"You're too honest, Clark."
"You... want me to lie?"
"Only to other people."
And Lex's mouth on his is a shock right to every extremity. It makes Clark's fingers tingle, and he can't even force his brain to tell him *exactly* what Lex is doing beyond... touching. Kissing.
Soft, smooth line of Lex's mouth broken by the scar and Clark just wants to smooth it down. Taste it, lick it, something. Just enough control to grab the exercise equipment behind him, none left to keep him from opening his mouth to *taste*.
Licks Lex's mouth and prays Lex won't call him on his complete lack of technique, because he just *has* to.
Something like relief when Lex tightens his grip on Clark's head, when he runs his fingers into Clark's hair and squeezes once, hard, before pulling Clark down and holding him *still*. Sucking on his lip just long enough for Clark to feel a little silly before deftly coaxing his tongue into Lex's mouth and.
Wonders what he would've done if any of the psychotic and/or under-the-influence people who had kissed him in the last several months had sucked on his tongue.
Moans and thrusts helplessly against Lex and then there's a hand between them and Lex *has* him.
Cups him through his jeans and squeezes and just keeps sucking Clark's tongue like he has all day.
Clark breaks off to gasp, but it becomes a groan. Heel of Lex's hand doing terrible, wonderful things to his cock and he's so *hard*. No time to take another breath before Lex is on him again, pushing him back against the equipment, pushing down on his head until Clark bends his knees a little and slumps.
Easier now and harder in the best ways, Lex *attacking* his mouth, eyes half-lidded and glittering. Tongue thick and strong against his own, ticklish against the roof of his mouth and Clark has nothing to *say* to this.
Nothing he can do but want it and accept it and God, God. All this because he commented about the shirts?
Laughs a little drunkenly and gets bitten for it and he can feel his cock pulsing pre-come.
"Oh God, *Lex* --"
"Get on the weight bench."
Nods slowly, mindlessly, freezes when he realizes what he's agreeing to, but Lex is still stroking him. Stoking him up and Clark makes a noise too embarrassing to classify.
Whines high in the back of his throat when Lex lets him go and moves away.
Cold without him and all Clark can do is stare at him for a moment.
Hunger and *will*.
"Lex, I don't... I haven't..."
"I'm going to make you come, Clark."
"Get on the bench."
Clark does, not realizing until he's down that Lex has it adjusted to *his* height. Meaning that Clark has to practically hang his ass over the lower edge to avoid banging his head on the weights and... oh.
Flickers a glance at Lex and finds him staring *hard*, scratching his belly idly beneath the shirt and Clark wants to *see*.
"Lex, please. Take off... take off your shirt?"
Quick nod, quicker move and the shirt's across the room. Nothing beneath but skin and... skin.
No hair even on... his arms.
Oh. Christ, he's an *idiot*, but if it gets him results like this can he really complain? Laughs a little and shucks his own shirts, abruptly forgetting the basics of dressing and undressing when he feels Lex's hands on his thighs. Oh.
Barely manages to get them off without ripping them and Lex is kneeling between his legs.
Even knowing that he would be isn't enough to lessen the *blow* of actually seeing it. Lex. Squeezing his thighs and spreading them and staring into Clark's eyes as if daring him to say anything to stop this.
And then he moves, shifting one hand up and over Clark's groin --
-- and onto his belly, up to his chest. Clark knows he's breathing like an asthmatic in a greenhouse but. God. The *look* on his face.
Can't tear his eyes away, even when it becomes clear that Lex is urging him to lie down.
And he knows he's just nodding and not moving again, but he can't do anything about it. Higher brain function a distant memory and he doesn't even want to blink.
Doesn't want to miss a moment of Lex looking at him like *that*.
Terrified of what will happen if he closes his eyes.
"It's okay, Clark. I'll take care of you."
Gasps and reaches out to run his fingers over Lex's mouth. Open mouth, wet and swollen from kisses and Clark shudders when Lex swipes his tongue over his fingers once, again. "Please..."
Lex bites him and Clark's cock *pulses* and he hears himself whimper. "You're incredible like this. I'm going to enjoy you."
Which should sound at least a *little* ridiculous, or even creepy, but... there's no way even his geek-useless brain can get around what Lex means. What Lex *wants*.
And Clark lies down, breathing hard and staring up at the high ceiling. Brief flitting wonder about who gets the cobwebs down and then... wet.
On his chest. Lex's mouth, Lex's tongue all over him. Dipping into his navel and making him jerk, even white teeth scraping at the muscle.
Hot but Clark's shivering, hands clenching and unclenching and by the time Lex gets to his nipples it's a struggle not to just arch up and *offer* himself.
Lex's hands on his shoulders, sliding down to catch his wrists and squeeze. Holding him. Holding him down and it's an unspoken order and it's a promise and it's too many other things for Clark's brain to hold.
Teeth sharp on his nipples and Lex is murmuring something unintelligible between bites, or maybe just humming.
It's a darkly happy sound, buzzing on his skin and deep into his bones and it just makes Clark *want*. "God, Lex, that feels so good..."
"You like to be bitten."
"Good. Because... I like to bite."
And Clark can feel Lex's smile against his chest for just a brief moment before Lex is, God, all *over* him.
Bites everywhere. Making him squirm, making him gasp, making him groan and beg and clench his hands into fists to keep them from doing *anything*.
"Please oh god please yes --" Teeth so sharp on his nipples and Clark can *smell* it. His sweat and Lex's and all the sex they're having right now and oh, God. Sex is hot and wet and sharp and bright. Teeth and lips and tongues and --
Lex presses against him. Something between a push and a thrust and "ohh. You're so hard, Clark."
"Say it. Tell me how much you want this."
"Oh... oh *fuck*, Lex, I want this I want you please don't stop..."
"I'm going to fuck you."
Ice and electricity and Clark thinks he might be squeezing his nails into his palms hard enough to draw blood. "Oh Lex, anything --"
"Shh... I know. Not here. Here I'm just going to exercise my oral fixation a bit. You don't mind, do you?"
"God, you beg so beautifully. Do you have any idea what you look like right now?"
Clark turns his head to the side, but Lex has him by the jaw.
"Open your eyes."
"Do it. Yeah... like that." Lex pushes against him again. "Feel that? How hard I am for you? You're blushing -- no. You're flushed. All the way down your chest.
"Sweating. You moan like you're dying. Like I'm killing you... yeah. Bite your lip again. I like that."
"You have no *idea*, do you? What I can do to you? What I can make you feel?"
Clark takes a shuddery breath. "Show me." It comes out a broken whisper anyway.
And Lex is kissing him again, tongue moving too deep to be a tease, too fast to be anything but frustrating and Clark clenches his fists even tighter. Wants to touch Lex so *badly*, but doesn't want to do anything that would make him stop, pull away, call this off.
Unspoken rules here, and it's about as clear as mud but... he can follow Lex's lead. Open his mouth for those kisses and lie back when Lex nudges him.
Lift his hips to make it easier for Lex to get his jeans and shorts off and oh, God.
His cock is practically flat to his belly and Clark has to close his eyes again.
Can't help picturing what he must look like to Lex.
Spread out mostly naked and... begging for it.
Is it what Lex needs?
*Wants* it to be, wants this to be good, and if the only room he has to make it good is by surrendering... "Please touch me, Lex..."
Thumbs digging into the bowl of his hips and it's just another promise.
"Hard as you want..."
"God, Clark --"
Hot mouth on the head of his cock and sex is *wet*. Sex is hot and wet and so good it might be pain. Lex's fist around the base of his cock, squeezing and pumping so slow. "Oh it's good, Lex, so good -- ah --"
No words left for this, just every sound Lex sucks and strokes out of him, and when he feels Lex's fingers on his mouth the only thing he can do is suck them in. Take them as deep as he can and the realization that he's mirroring Lex's movements on his cock is almost enough to make him come right there.
Groaning around Lex's fingers and trying and barely succeeding to not just *fuck* his way into Lex's mouth, God, Lex's throat would be... oh it would be...
Wet fingers trailing over his nipples, down and down and over his tightening sac and Clark has to bite his own fist to keep from screaming.
Teasing little touches taking him higher and Lex's naked, naked head bobbing on his cock the best kind of obscene. No porn could be better than this.
Can't imagine watching anything Pete could steal from his older brothers after this without *seeing* this, without feeling the ghost of it all over his skin and Lex is still touching him.
Slipping behind his balls to tease him, God, *there*. Something that may have even been ticklish if it wasn't so sexy, if Lex hadn't already said he wanted to (I'm going to fuck you) fuck him. Clark tries to spread his legs wider, pushes his hips up and begs with his body because words are impossible for this.
Lex hums something pleased-sounding around his cock and pushes *in*. One long stroke and there's a finger *inside* him, deeper than Clark had ever been able to make himself go and curling and.
Heat. White-out heat and the sound of his own cries and all of his muscles are screaming and he can *hear* Lex sucking him, so wet, so wet and oh God *swallowing* and it goes on and on and *on*.
Even when it starts to hurt, Clark doesn't want Lex to stop, doesn't ever want to lose that soft dirty mouth, that ruthless finger... "Please..." And it's more of a slur than an actual word, but Lex finally stops.
Pulls off and pulls out and bites the jut of Clark's hip and kisses him there gently.
"Lex..." Monosyllables are about what he can manage.
Tongue low on his belly, licking a broken line up and up and around his nipples, tracing his collarbone and it's all so *hot*. Physically slowly edging past emotionally, even with the high ceilings and general old-stone chill of the huge room. Slick hot bench beneath his back and slick hot Lex.
Mouthing his throat, licking away new sweat and old and it was so *slow*. Slow heat and Clark's positive Lex is hard and he has no idea what to do about that. Squeezes his eyes shut and gasps at the feel of Lex pressing his thumb against Clark's lower lip.
Is that what he wants?
Jarring moment to realize it's what *he* wants, and by then the finger is gone and Lex is...
Smoothing his hands over Clark's chest in motions that he'll never be able to think of as soothing again.
*Watching* him -- no. It's more like being priced, or catalogued, or studied. Watching is too... passive for what Lex is doing. Clark can't quite turn away, even though he isn't sure when he opened his eyes. Knows he just needs to *see* Lex.
Bare to the waist and hard enough to be obvious and oh, he looks so *hungry*.
"Lex, are you... can I touch you?"
Something in his voice, or maybe what he says makes Lex narrow his eyes. Close them into a sleepy-sly smile that doesn't reach his mouth so much as suggest itself. Lex doesn't answer for what feels like years, stroking the lines of Clark's face and petting his mouth until, "no."
Flinches before he can help himself. "Oh, okay, I --"
And his brain is trying to remember how to work, or maybe just trying to *tell* him something about what it could mean to be involved in something like this. With someone like Lex, who can tease like that and mean it in every way. Who can make his cock twitch so *soon* after...
God, Lex had *blown* him and Clark wants so badly to do *something*.
Shifts a little beneath him, tries to get his eyes to focus on more than just smooth, milk-pale skin, muscle and bone and strength that's nothing but human and still so much *more*.
Is this the connection? Is this what he was supposed to see?
Lex stands, backs away from the bench, and it's all Clark can do not to just *grab* him, even knowing that this is Lex's game. He *trusts* Lex, but this is...
This is exactly right, because Lex is toeing off his cross-trainers, balancing neatly on one foot, then the other to pull off his socks. Never takes his eyes off Clark and Clark *wants*. Press his thumbs to the reddened pads of Lex's weirdly elegant feet, bite his ankles and oh, God, Lex with his *own* thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants is.
Clark shakes his head numbly, dumbly, and Lex's smile is that much sharper.
"Yeah." And there's no tease in this, at least, or if there is it's just too subtle for Clark to catch. Lex peeling the sweats down long, lean -- smooth, so smooth and Clark wants to touch so *badly*.
Sharply defined muscles at thigh and calf and it all leads up to a pair of black boxer briefs. Blinding contrast, or it seems it should be, and Clark can't hold in a gasp when Lex shucks the brief.
Bare. Just... bare.
Hard and inhumanly perfect, pale everywhere but the blood-dark cock hanging heavy and had he known he wanted this?
Were any of his fantasies ever so vivid? Moans something he can't hear or translate and Lex is standing over him again.
"Oh Lex please..."
Arches up helplessly as Lex sits on him. Reaches out. Lex raises an eyebrow but doesn't stop him.
"I just... I have to... ah." Hands on Lex's thighs and he's not as surprised as he could be by the sticky feel of it, the vivid (if small) red smears he leaves as he strokes. Doesn't quite dare to reach for more. Needs more from *Lex* before he can. So smooth.
Harder than any woman would be, but silkier, too, maybe. No hair. Never any hair.
"Lex, you feel... God, I just want to touch you all over..."
Groans helplessly and squeezes.
"Clark. Look at me."
Has to tear his eyes away from his hands, shaking with the strain of not squeezing too hard, not taking too much. Splayed out dark and common against Lex's skin, so close to his *cock*. Most human part of him, maybe, and that could be exactly why he isn't allowed to touch...
Shakes it off as best he can and looks up to find Lex licking his palm. Insane and desperate urge to offer his own mouth for that, but the only thing that comes out is a slurred little groan. Words are getting lost again, just because Lex is right *there*.
Because Lex is *Lex*, even in this. Maybe more in this, peeled down to the flesh and terrifyingly controlled.
Follows Lex's hand with his eyes helplessly, biting his lip when Lex wraps it around his own cock. Again when he remembers that Lex likes that.
"You're so pretty, Clark. So good..."
Squeezes Lex's thighs again and tries to figure out what to *watch*. Face? Cock? First slow strokes so achingly familiar and Lex still so focused on *him*. Blushes hard. He's not even *doing* anything.
Just lying there, under him. Trying to breathe, trying to be still, trying to be whatever it is that's making Lex stroke a little faster. Head of Lex's cock so dark, so shiny-wet it makes Clark's mouth water, makes him swallow and lick his lips and try to breathe through his nose just to keep from drooling, God, like a baby.
Like an animal.
Another tease just to see it disappear and reappear under those big, capable (strong, strong enough) hands and he hears himself make a frustrated noise low in his throat.
"Clark, you're staring at my cock..." Faintly amused, hoarse with rising need.
Jerks his gaze away quickly and Lex's eyes widen for a heartbeat for narrowing again. Slowly. Glittering eyes and pink, gently triangular tongue touching the scar for a moment. "I..."
"It's okay, Clark. I want you to stare..." Almost dreamy, and Lex uses his free hand to scrape short, sharp nails down the center of Clark's chest once, again.
Again. "God, *Lex*, I want to see you come --" Cuts himself off, bites his lip but can't make himself turn away. Too good to *see* this. See the way Lex's mouth falls open just a little and stays open.
Panting Lex. "Go ahead... go ahead and look. It's okay..." And Lex's eyes are almost fully closed, lips parted, flush rising from his chest.
"Please let me touch --"
"No. Just look. Watch." Lazy smile and Lex is circling one of Clark's nipples with his fingers, riding Clark's needful thrusts with a kind of liquid ease.
Clark's getting hard again, cock pressed against Lex's ass and oh God, it's so much. Too much and wonderful and he wants. *Wants*. Fleeting stupid urge to try to *will* Lex to come, if only to reach a point where he *can* touch. Where Lex would be too sated and lazy to stop him.
Stares at Lex's pumping fist and pictures a Lex boneless, pleasantly weary and (pliant) willing in Clark's arms. Touchable. Suckable.
Licks his lips and strokes Lex's thighs and tries to stare all of his *want* into Lex's eyes and --
"Clark..." Choked off, breathy and low.
The bench is slick beneath him, slicker now than before and Clark writhes a little, shifts, pushes his cock against Lex's ass and moans at the way it makes Lex just *move*.
Everything under the skin, shift and flex of muscle, heaving chest and rocking hips. God, Lex fucking his own *fist* and it's the most incredible thing he's ever seen, ever thought he *would* see --
Lex with his head thrown back and just *going* for it. Taking his own pleasure on Clark's body and there's nothing he could do about it. Nothing he would do about it, anyway, and isn't that the same thing?
"Lex... oh, Lex you're gonna come on me..."
Choked little laugh and Lex is smiling at him, wet and shiny and bright. "That's the idea, pretty. Oh... oh, yeah. You look so shocked. So *scandalized*. Do you know how much I've wanted this?"
"Yeah, okay... just. Don't close your eyes. Let me see you. Let me see this --"
"Gorgeous. Want to fuck your mouth. Your sweet ass. Rub my cock all... God all over you..."
And Lex's strokes were getting ragged, faster and harder and so *ruthless* with himself. With them both, because it would be so easy to just flip them off this bench onto the mat, for Clark to knock Lex's hand aside and go down on him. Turn them over until Lex was braced over him, over his face and fucking him and it's true, he'd do anything for that.
This. Just *more*.
"Oh, Clark, you look so --"
The first splash of come on his chest makes him gasp, freeze. *Marked* like something...
Like he *belongs* to Lex know and Clark couldn't close his eyes if his life depended on it.
Lex's fingers digging into his shoulder as he pumps and bites off agonized moans and when it's over Lex just slumps.
Panting and hunched over Clark, eyes closed but not hidden. So naked.
No way to resist that, and Clark doesn't try. Sits up carefully, scooting back a little on the bench to get Lex in his lap and *keep* him there. Lex's eyes are still closed, and he thinks it's that, more than anything else, that lets him do... that.
Dip his fingers into the come on his chest and bring it to his mouth, brushing Lex's cheek by accident and closing his eyes and... tasting.
Easy, too easy to imagine his fingers are Lex's cock, dripping with come and pushing his tongue down, stretching his mouth wide... can't even make his brain understand the taste at first, the illusion is too good, but --
Opens his eyes to find Lex watching him suck his fingers, watching him fuck his own mouth and it's too good to be shameful. The taste, the feel, the *look* on Lex's face, wondering and calculating at once.
Lex licks a path from Clark's fingers to his mouth, kissing him slow and awkward until Clark can make himself pull his fingers away, and then it's just *hot*.
Thorough and wet, so wet. Messy between them and Lex doesn't seem to mind being held like this, scalp cradled in one hand, other pressing firmly at the base of his spine. It's good like this, so good, and Clark thinks he might be babbling, knows control is something he'll only have memories of before too much longer, but he can't stop until Lex pushes him away.
Gently, but the strength is evident. Clark has to remind himself to respond to it. Lex is... God, his *skin*.
"You're coming upstairs with me."
And Lex nods slowly before leaning in to lick a thin, burning stripe along Clark's cheek. "I'm nowhere close to being finished with you."
"I can live with that." Winces at the desperation in his voice. Already so *hard*. Again.
Low chuckle. "Good. That's..." Slow nuzzle back to Clark's mouth, quick bite. "I like that, Clark."
Clark nods, and follows Lex when he stands. Barely manages to keep his knees from buckling, and dragging his pants and shorts back up is something close to torture. Lex doesn't bother with more than his sweatpants, tossing Clark's shirts at him. "Are we... are you...?" Clark ducks his head. Wonders if and when his language skills would bother returning.
Lex's hand on his cheek is softly implacable, forcing Clark's head up again. "Everything. We're going to do everything."
And the only thing Clark can do is turn his face into Lex's palm and kiss.