~ Closing Wounds ~
Summary: After yet another attack, Clark keeps Lex company, whether he wants it or not.
Steam thickened the air, cutting off breath and thought. The heat of the water scorched on his skin, sweat trickling down his temples and forehead as impurities oozed from his flesh, washing him clean.
He eased himself back in the tub, hissing a protest at the touch of the shocking cool fiberglass freezing against his heated skin. Someone had once told him to close his eyes and clear his mind as he soaked. The notion rang sharply of Chloe Sullivan, but that just wasn't possible, unless it had been delivered by way of a quote from Clark's lips.
And that was entirely possible.
In the next room, his best friend sat waiting for him, eyebrows more than likely still furrowed with concern.
But Lex was fine.
He was always fine.
He'd dangled stories-high by fingertips and his jarred muscles had almost fully recovered by a dawn that had surprised him, caught him still awake, still thinking about what he'd done, what he'd seen.
After that, a tornado paid them a visit, demolishing the west wing, tossing rafters like Lincoln logs and sending a bookcase hurtling into him with a crushing impact that he shouldn't have walked away from, but he had.
He always did.
Head injuries knocked him out, gave him a headache, left him with black holes that he never quite filled. The blows to the head were annoying, but apparently unavoidable, an inextricable part of his destiny and, for the most part, harmless.
Eyes closed, he reached blindly for the towel that he'd laid next to the tub, balling it and tucking it behind his head as his chin tilted up to escape the rising water.
He let his shoulder drop back against the cool tub, let his hands free-float in the hot water that drew the tightness from his chest.
The evening played out in his mind, from the pseudo-date to the man with the knife, and Lex shook the scenes from behind his eyes, relaxing. As much as he ever relaxed, anyway.
The worried creak of the hardwood floor as the kid paced back and forth outside the bathroom door was more distracting than soothing.
"Clark, go home. I'm fine." Eyes open, he paddled one hand through a thin string of red that laced up through the water from a cut on the back of his thigh. "The water's barely pink this time, I promise."
It was supposed to be a joke, but the smile died on his lips as the door flew open, embedding the handle in the wall behind it. Despite the door-stop.
"Lex-" And Clark was there, filling the doorway with tan and muscle and youth. Staring at him, eyes examining, mouth hanging slightly open as Clark apparently realized where he was and that Lex took his baths naked.
As amusing as it was to watch things play out in Clark's mind sometimes, Lex wasn't in the mood to wait for him to catch up.
"I'm okay - see..." Hands curling on the sides of the tub, Lex pushed himself up, water dripping and sliding off his skin as Clark turned his back, the long mirror on the wall making the gesture a moot point. "Clark, look." And that earned him hazel attention, reflected though it was.
Hesitant, schooled, careful attention, and all above his waist.
"Are you-" And that fast, the eyes found a tile to stare at, as if ceramic was far more interesting than his bald flesh and toned muscle.
Of course, the tile was safe - it didn't fly in the face of teenage bashfulness or a good, heterosexual upbringing. That was something Lex had never really had to worry about beyond an afternoon's rebellious consideration of future rebuttals to Lionel's crude comments.
"I'm fine. This-" Lex ran a thumb over the back of his leg, swiping at the water-diluted blood that ran in a bright pink streak down the back of his knee as he stood there, dripping. He held up his painted fingers and smiled. "This is nothing. Just a scrape, really. And clean - it doesn't even need stitches."
He watched Clark's reflection in the mirror, expecting a nod as usual. The brown mop didn't move though, and that made Lex pause as he stepped from the tub, one foot on the edge and one still in the water.
A draft from the open door sliced into the room. Lex turned, bending down to retrieve his towel from the edge of the tub and found that it had slipped into the water when he'd stood up. He straightened, stepping the rest of the way from the cooling water. Clark still wasn't moving, wasn't speaking.
The blood from his thigh reached his ankle, the drop sliding down to barely register a tickle of oddly sticky wetness on the top of his foot. He shook his head and bent to brush it quickly away before it could arch down and stain the white mat beneath his feet.
"Why, Lex?" The mirror's misty haze crept away, and Clark glanced up at him in the mirror, eyes wide then narrowing, accusing.
"Why what?" Lex hid his confusion behind a small smile and reached out, nodding towards the towel rack beside Clark. "Can you hand me a towel?"
He caught the towel that Clark tossed him, rubbing it over his chest and belly, down over both legs, wiping up the red line from his cut as Clark stepped closer, arms crossing over his chest.
"Why did you ask me to stay?"
Blunt, and Clark was never blunt. Forward sometimes, when he was angry or altered by some substance that Lex's logic still denied Clark taking, yes, but never just... blunt. "I thought we could-"
"Do not say `talk'."
Lex shook his head at Clark's unflinching gaze, shocked silent for a second as he gathered himself. No, Clark's eyes weren't angry. They were viciously daring him to... say something.
Lex took his turn with the tile as he dried his back and head. "You don't want to talk?"
He wasn't sure what Clark was fishing for, but he wasn't playing around, wasn't flirting - that much was certain.
Clark shook his head impatiently, dismissing Lex's attempt to avoid the question. "We'd only lie to each other."
He had a point.
Although, the lying was less grating now, more tolerable since he'd discovered the reason behind it. He'd not been able to imagine anything that could justify the deceit and distance that Clark had insisted on wedging between them, but after he'd found the copy of Nixon's tape... well, he knew it wasn't ever a matter of choice on Clark's part.
The terms were simple, and he respected them. Either he understood the limitations that Clark's secret required, or Clark would deny him everything, even friendship, out of fear of discovery.
It really was a shame though. He was constantly biting down on questions. They could've really have some fun with the strength and the speed. Maybe the vision too, if he could think of any way to experience that without exploiting Clark in the meantime.
Lex wrapped the towel around his waist, moving to the vanity and leaning back, crossing his ankles. "What makes you think we'd lie?" He could play along, would take as much as Clark allowed, and wouldn't push for more.
"Oh come on, Lex. That's the deal... you get into trouble, I save you, we lie to each other and have coffee the next day, like nothing ever happened..."
Clark's voice trailed off and Lex held his breath, waiting to see if the thoughts would turn any more revealing or if Clark was finished encapsulating their relationship into a tiny, simple series of actions.
When the silence became uncomfortable, Lex nodded and smiled. "I'll meet you at the Talon in the morning. Give you a ride to school?"
He was too busy laughing to notice that Clark wasn't, until he looked up and saw Clark seething, impatiently waiting for him to quit being a jackass.
Clark caught his and held them, and Lex stubbornly returned the gaze, not relenting in the game. Not even if Clark was in a self-destructive mood.
"Why did you ask me to stay?"
Lex raised his eyebrows, searching for words to cover words he knew he wasn't going to say. He smirked and shrugged, "You offered, so..."
Clark took a step towards him and stopped, arms dropping to his sides, all defense melting from his posture. The brown curls moved just a little as he shook his head. "No. I didn't."
It echoed against the tiles and bath water, against Lex's skin, heating it with an embarrassment that he wasn't used to acknowledging with a physical reaction. "It's late, Clark. You should be getting home."
Clark was in a self-destructive mood, and Lex would be the one doing the saving this time.
He turned away from the wide, hopeful eyes and walked out into the bedroom, going to the dresser in the closet for a pair of boxers. Clark followed him from the bathroom, and Lex kicked the closet door most of the way shut, effectively cutting him off from sight and further conversation.
As he stepped into the cotton, pulling the boxers up and yanking the towel from his waist, he saw the closet door open out of the corner of his eye. Warm hands slid up his arm, covering and squeezing it before pushing insistently, urging him to turn around.
"I didn't offer."
Lex stretched to the closet door and pulled his robe off the hook there, slipping into it as he turned around. "Clark, look-"
Clark's fingertips brushed his cheek, his hands brushing, curving around the sides of Lex's neck, pulling him close, so close that he could feel Clark's whisper against his own lips. "I didn't offer."
"You should go now..." It came out softly, completely devoid of conviction and Lex swallowed hard, unwilling to succumb to gravity after months of teetering on this precipice. The denial, the secret of it, was a habit now, one he counted on, depended on, and Clark kept insisting on inching them closer to the brink.
"Before what? Say it, Lex. I want to hear you say it. Just once before I go." A thumb slipped over his bottom lip and Lex closed his eyes. "Why did you ask me to stay?"
"I-" It should be easy, it shouldn't stick in his throat or tear ragged cuts in his chest, but it did. "I just thought we should talk about what happened tonight."
Clark's sweet scent flooded his mouth and Lex flicked his tongue out to lick the taste in, to savor it and make the lie slide smoothly into the air between them.
Lex opened his eyes, locking onto Clark's for the confession he needed to witness before he could dismiss it again. He'd heard it and seen it a thousand times over bottles of water and pool-table felt and still never got enough of it.
Full, blush lips parted; Clark nodded slightly. "You only have to say it once."
The thumb on Lex's mouth slipped between his lips and he tasted the tip with his tongue, then he moved, turned his head and looked at the wall.
"I'm too curious for my own good, Clark." It was probably cryptic and distant enough, about him instead of them, and Clark might let it go, might just walk away and leave him. Let this be another near-miss to add to their ever-growing collection.
Clark's hands slid down inside his robe, tracing down his chest, drawing every nerve along with them as the fell to his hips. "Why can't we just-"
Too real, too fucking honest and Lex should have seen it coming. Another one of Clark's desperate, weak moments that he'd have to smooth over with something cold, some wholly fabricated, uncaring remark that would leave Clark sulking all the way to the barn. Then tomorrow, he'd offer amends - time alone in the city, maybe a swim together. Something to keep Clark right there, knowing this truth, but forbidding him to expose it, even when they were alone.
"I'm fine. I don't need you to stay. I think I have things under control here." Lex put a little extra amusement in his voice, in his smile. Not laughing at Clark, exactly, but to an unsure, unconfident teenager, it would seem that way.
"I'm not an idiot, Lex. I'm not Victoria or Helen. I know what you're doing."
Lex turned slowly, carefully concealing the surprise that pounded in his ears at Clark's words. Clark wasn't relenting. He was pushing, pulling Lex dangerously close to a more obvious acknowledgement.
He edged his way out of the closet, past an indignant Clark that until now, he was only vaguely familiar with, and into the bedroom. He knew he'd be kicking himself for this later, but it was necessary. He couldn't accept anything else from Clark like this, wouldn't have him halfway and full of secrets that he'd already figured out. "Then please, Clark, enlighten me. What am I doing?"
"You... you know how I feel." Clark tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. Was that supposed to make this whole thing seem less intimidating somehow?
Lex busied himself, setting his alarm clock, closing the curtains - all his nightly rituals that pulled a cloak of familiar comfort over the change in the routine of their friendship. He threw his best rendition of naivete over his shoulder, "I know how you feel?"
"I know you do, and you just keep..." Clark's head was shaking, his eyes searching on Lex's floor for something.
Something Lex could give him. A way out.
"Clark, you have to learn to take chances-"
Lex shook his head, a hand slicing the air to cut Clark's excuses off before they could start. "No. Let me finish. Take chances, yes. But take them intelligently. Lana Lang would never tell you this, but she expects certain things, things she will never ask for. It defeats the purpose if she asks for them. You have to give her those things in order to get what you want."
"What?! That's not-"
"I'm sorry I interfered on your behalf. I wouldn't normally have presumed to get involved, but Clark, you're miserable. Look at you." Lex looked him up and down, gesturing with the glass he'd retrieved from the desk. "You're a mess." He managed a teasing smile.
Clark's eyes were wide and disbelieving, and Lex turned away from them before they could express anything more telling.
"Lex... if I'm a mess, it's because-"
"Clark, as simplistic as it sounds, I just want you to be happy. Tonight's little arrangement with Lana was admittedly a mistake. I apologize. It's been a long day, so if you'll excuse me-"
Lex walked to the window, pushing the curtains open to stare out at the green-black void of the Luthor estate. He tensed as a hand grasped his shoulder and he blinked just a little too slowly, knew Clark might notice, and shrugged, looking up at the stars that shone bright in the clear night sky.
"It was a mistake, Lex."
Lex stiffened under a second hand that curved over his other shoulder, holding him in place, heating his skin through the cotton of his robe. He pursed his lips and looked into his drink, avoiding the unavoidable.
"I'm really very tired."
"Me too." Clark's voice breezed over his ear, low and cautious.
Lex turned his cheek and gripped his drink, rebelling against the warm breath on his ear as he spoke. "So go home, Clark. Get some sleep. I'll pick you up half an hour early and we'll swing by the Talon before I take you to school tomorrow. I'll tell Lana that the whole thing was my idea."
"Fuck her. And fuck school. I'm not going."
Clark's presence behind him disappeared and Lex turned to see Clark doing his best to be nonchalant about his rebellion, casually walking to a bookshelf and touching the spines of the books that Lex read most often.
Lex shook his head, dismissing the notion that there was method to Clark's preoccupation. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I'm taking a sick day." Like it was a natural thing for a kid to do; like he deserved it. "I think it's about time I had a day off."
Lex shrugged and set his drink down on his nightstand. "I'll pick you up Thursday then."
"No, you asked me to stay, I already got mom and dad to say I could, and I'm staying." Clark moved towards him, stopping right in front of him with a small smile that Lex wasn't sure he liked the look of at all. "Get on the bed."
Lex clenched his teeth to keep his jaw closed, eyebrows lifting despite his careful restraint. "What?"
"Your leg's bleeding - lie down so I can take care of it." Clark turned away, walking to the bathroom, throwing a smile over his shoulder as he rifled through the medicine cabinet.
Twisting a little and pulling his robe sideways to look at his leg, Lex saw blood and followed the smeared blotches of deep red on his floor all the way back to the closet. Shit.
He stripped off his robe, frowning at the blood stains dotting the back of it, and climbed onto the bed, folding his arms and tucking his head down, waiting for Clark to return. His body warmed against the comforter and he jumped a little, then scoffed at the irony of the position when Clark's thighs straddled his calves. He looked back and saw Clark wetting a cotton ball with alcohol, then he buried his face in his arms again, waiting for the sting to chase away more entertaining thoughts.
"Sorry if this hurts but-"
Clark dabbed at his cut and Lex sucked in a breath at the burn, his arms tensing under his head. "No, it's fine."
The cotton ball trailed coolly down the back of his thigh, rubbing in gently circles up and down, and Clark was cleaning him, wiping the blood from his skin. The liquid bubble of another swab being soaked and he braced himself as Clark's hand connected with the back of his knee, holding his leg steady as the alcohol stabbed into the cut again.
"Just a little more - it won't stop. He got you in just the right spot, huh?"
Lex lifted his head and looked over his shoulder as a cool breeze replaced the burn of pain on his wound. Clark's lips were pursed, inches from his thigh, blowing relief onto the now-drying blood of the slit.
"Thanks." He smiled over his shoulder and Clark stopped blowing and reached for the box on the bed.
Lex closed his eyes as Clark peeled the paper off a large bandage and smoothed the edges in a wide square around the wound. As soon as it was in place, Lex flexed his arms, pushing up just a little, hoping Clark would get the hint and move off of him.
The hand on Lex's leg moved to the small of his back. "Wait. I'm not done."
Lex gave up trying to move and sank back down, wondering why he hadn't noticed a cut on his back before now. "Did he get my back, too? My shirt was fine..."
"No, but you're sore, right? I can take care of that. If you'll..." Clark's legs shifted on the bed and Lex's ass was covered in warm weight. "... let me."
Strong hands kneaded his shoulders, thumbs mashing counter-pressure against muscles that he hadn't known were knotted. The gentle strength rubbed warmth deep into the tight cords along his spine, and he stopped resisting, stopped trying to draw his thoughts away from the boy above him, straddling his ass with tight, powerful legs.
One of Clark's thighs scooted forward, hitching Lex's soft pajamas up a little as it moved, and Lex lifted his head and rested his chin on his wrist so he could get Clark talking, remind himself how young Clark was, how innocent.
"So what do you want to do on your big day off?"
"I was thinking we could sleep in."
The hands spread open, fingertips and palms brushing lightly all the way down to the small of his back, and Clark had to be insane if he didn't think this was affecting him.
"That's a good start. Then what? Lunch in bed?"
He'd realized Clark was holding most of his own weight, but as he laughed, Clark relaxed a little, the heaviness of solid teenage muscle pushing him further into the mattress and he shifted a little as he realized just how helpless he was under Clark's ministrations.
"No. I want to go to the city. We could get take out and bring it back here."
It was too close to the truth, too dangerous for Lex to continue. For either of them.
"Thanks, that feels better." Lex took a chance and pushed up fast, knocking Clark off balance and to the side as he moved out from under him and stood beside the bed, stretching his arms above his head.
"I wasn't finished."
Lex picked up the used cotton balls and bandage wrappers and threw them away - in a trashcan across the room from Clark and the bed.
"Do you want to call Lana before it gets too late? See if she'll skip school with you?"
"What? No. Lex, would you just-"
"I bet she'd say 'yes,' Clark. You're an attractive young man - you really have no reason to be so insecure. It's obvious she likes you."
"No. I- Jesus, Lex. Don't you get it?"
"Apparently not. You've been in love with her since I-"
Clark smiled and Lex looked away. He'd known if this went on long enough, Clark would catch him and he'd slip up.
"Since you hit me with your car. It looked that way, Lex, because I wanted it to. But you know it's not true. You know me better than that."
"Yes. And I know why you want me to stay. You don't give a shit about Lana and neither do I. You're not hurt; we both know that. You want me here." Clark's eyes darted to the bed, then narrowed. "You want me there."
Lex looked up into Clark's familiar, patient eyes and really, there was nothing to say. No admission or denial would encapsulate the simultaneous thrill and dread he was feeling. He started to take a step backwards, wanting some breathing room, some thinking room.
Clark's hands closed on his arms, tugging him gently back. "Don't you, Lex?"
Breath didn't come for a long moment as they stood there, as Clark stood, staring into his eyes with a determination that was undermined by a bashful, sweet smile that twitched just a little on blush lips.
"It's okay," Clark's hands slid down his arms and took his hands, his eyes lowered and voice soft. "I'm not a kid anymore. Just... let this happen."
Lex twisted his arms, prying his fingers out of hands that didn't want to let him go. "I need some... another drink."
"Or balls. Those might be useful right about now, huh?"
Lex's head snapped around to look into fierce, shining eyes. "Be careful, Clark."
"No. I've been careful. It didn't work." Clark grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and lifted, arms crossing over his chest and elbows tenting the fabric as he pulled it off over his head. "Nothing's worked. So I'm trying this."
Lex glanced over his shoulder at the door; it was closed.
Clark turned away from him, his chin tucking down. The tan on his broad back had no end, and Lex indulged his curiosity, eyes following the lines of muscles and spine down to a waistband that went slack with the sound of a zipper's teeth parting ways.
"Clark, I'm not going to-"
"Well, I am. I don't care if it's stupid or if I'll regret it tomorrow, so save your breath." Clark turned back to him as he spoke, flat, chiseled belly disappearing under the brilliant white band of his underwear, a v of purity between the open halves of his dark denim fly. "I'm here now, Lex, and I'm not going anywhere."
Clark reached for him and he stood still, let the hands curve and claim a spot on his side, graze over his chest, slide up the back of his neck and run along his shoulder as Clark walked around him, touching. Determined fingers slid just under the edge of his waistband and Lex held fast, kept as still as he could without holding his breath.
Clark rounded him, hand trailing warm and firm along his ribs as it slid up his back and over his shoulder. "Aren't you curious?" Clark's brows furrowed at the smirk on his face, as the scoff of thinly-veiled nervousness that Lex shook his head against.
Strong fingers wrapped around his wrist, guiding it up until his fingertips lay gently on red, pouting lips. The lips parted and Lex jerked his hand back, balling it into a fist. He closed his eyes.
Clark's nails dug into his palm and pried his fist open, spread his fingers gently, one by one, and the pads of his fingers made contact again, this time with soft, smooth flesh that curved under his touch.
"I feel the same, don't I? The same as... you, the same as the people you've been with? Don't tell me you haven't wondered if I would."
Lex opened his eyes, all hesitation fleeing the roaring flame that rang in his ears. Was it an admission or just...
"Because I know that you have, Lex. I know that you know what I am."
He held Clark's gaze until the brown tousled curls fell forward again and his hand was guided down Clark's chest, over that perfect, toned stomach to rest on the edge of his open fly. "I know and I don't care. I mean, I care, but only because I wanted to tell you myself."
"Didn't I? Do you have to ask?" Clark's cheek brushed in close against Lex's, the gentle scrape of his skin prickling all the way to his spine as Clark whispered. "No. You already know why, Lex. You already know everything."
A subtle, achingly slow drag of Clark's lips against his neck, hot breath warming his skin and Lex's hand gripped the denim and zipper, ready to rend it.
But he steadied the desire and turned it, changed it. He let go of Clark's jeans and rubbed hard, dragging the flesh, tugging it behind his hand as he slid it all the way up to Clark's neck.
"You have no idea what you just handed me." Clark's eyes went a little wide, then pulled into smiling crescents as he leaned down to take a kiss. Lex spoke, his lips grazing the cherry mouth as he whispered, "Or do you?"
"I know, Lex." Clark's face scratched a rough streak against Lex's as he turned his head to breathe the words in Lex's ear. "You have me now."
Plush, full, soft mouth against his, so new and strong and dizzying. Their lips parted and the universe opened, a warm, wet place that Lex would explore slowly someday, but not now. One hand on Clark's chest, he pushed him back, stepping away to look. Clark's hands were on his skin before he could blink, the delicious friction of strength against strength, both of them vying for a place in this, their hands skating on flesh, searching for a groove to fit into.
He pulled Clark to him, their foreheads propped together as his fingers curled into the band of elastic on Clark's underwear. His thumbs tugged and the denim of Clark's jeans sagged, threatening to fall off slim, hard hips. Lex pushed the fabric down, going to his knees when it was too low to reach standing up, holding it steady as Clark stepped out of all of it and his velvet cock fell forward, reaching, hard and slick with anticipation, towards Lex.
Hands sliding back up, gripping Clark's shoulders, he guided him back, onto the bed.
Clark lay down, arms spread out across the bed, a willing sacrifice with his thighs flexing and stomach tight with the effort to see, hands twisting in the comforter to keep the control that Lex just wanted to rip away from him. "Lex, I-"
"I know." The soft down of hair on Clark's thigh tickled his tongue and lips as he worked his way up. He let his eyes fall shut and his teeth close on flesh, skipping across Clark's stomach. The hand covering the back of his neck was bigger than he'd let himself imagine, a gentle, deniable threat that quickened his pulse and sharpened his bite.
The fingers on his neck slid down his spine to press hard into the groove of his lower back, urging him up, holding him close, another hand wrapping around his hip as his knee sank into the mattress between Clark's thighs.
"I don't know if-"
Lex arched his back, a smile spreading on his lips as he crawled up Clark's body and lifted his thigh, moving to sit gingerly over Clark's cock. "You're fine... perfect. Shhh..."
The steely, soft flesh flexed against his ass and Lex rubbed down against the heat between his legs. Lex smiled a little as Clark bent his knees, feet sliding on the comforter, seeking purchase as he leaned down to suck on the flushed skin of Clark's neck, then up until desperate lips moved against his own. He rocked gently, rolling his hips and smoothing his fingertips down Clark's chest until he found and took both hard nipples between his fingers and twisted them gently, slowly, prying the submission to pleasure from Clark's throat and licking the moan from his tongue.
As he pushed up, Clark protested with a shake of his head and fingertips dug into his thighs.
Hands sliding up Clark's chest to grip the fabric under his head, Lex leaned back down, chest rubbing just a little on Clark's. He shook his head and whispered into the ear that tilted toward his lips as he spoke, "No, I'm just..."
Slow and easy, so he could feel every ache, every twinge of guilt. So Clark would know, too.
He moved his hips again, or they hadn't stopped moving, but he ground down harder, pressing reassurance and temptation enough to make Clark remember just who had started this.
"I want to- Lex, please..."
Lex's thigh slid across Clark's belly as he moved off of him, a hand firmly pushing his shoulder, guiding him over. Lex reached down and slid his boxers off, throwing them off the side of the bed as Clark rolled under him, face burying in the comforter for a second before lifting again, cheeks red and hot, the nearest one scalding against Lex's skin as he lay down, covering Clark's body with his own.
Lex paused there to catch his breath, to steady himself, Clark's hair tickling along his temple, Clark's lips wet and so, so red, inches from his own, whispering into the pillow - broken desires and then, as if in answer to the hesitation in Lex's breath, "I'm not... scared."
Lex buried his face at the base of Clark's neck, the sweat between them making his forehead slide just a little and he kissed there, laved a shoulder-blade with a flat, greedy tongue, savoring salt and clean and heat. "Jesus, Clark. Neither am I."
Sitting up again, Lex straddled muscled thighs, pushing them together with his knees, rubbing his cock, then stretching to the nightstand and slicking himself with the lubricant he kept there. Sliding into the cleft of Clark's ass, he rubbed back and forth, slipping gently, breathing and breathing and rubbing one hand up and down Clark's back, staring at the flesh squeezing around his cock as Clark answered his movements hesitantly. He stopped rubbing and pushed a hand hard between Clark's shoulder-blades, the other circling the base of his own cock, and forced his way inside, slowly. Patience and reason lost in the wave of here and now and he pressed against the resistance he never wanted to conquer, mourning the give just a little as he slipped and sank inside the body beneath him.
Skin slick and moving everywhere in the effort to just hold still, Clark's breath coming hard like Lex knew it never, ever did, the long, broad back arched and head turned over his shoulder, stretching, straining to see. Clark, taut and writhing in slow motion on his belly, ass lifted a little in a perfect curve of tan, unmarked flesh and Lex forced his way deeper, knees slipping wide on the comforter as he arched his back and gripped Clark's shoulder, pulling him back, harder and closer.
The motion of his hips beat out a rhythm that stuck, repeating, pounding in his head, his veins, his chest. Skin sticking, pulling just a little on every outstroke, and Clark. Clark's hands fisting the pillow in front of him, ass rising to meet the strokes, faster and harder, desperate, hungry, out of control and Lex dug his fingers into the curve of Clark's hips, slowed him, steadied him. Wrapped an arm around Clark's waist and stilled, shimmying to find leverage on the soft fabric under his knees and pulling Clark's ass and back up to him as he lay down, teeth biting at flesh that buzzed with his own raging intensity.
His fingers found Clark hard and slick and he touched carefully, weighing Clark's arousal in the palm of his hand before gripping, sliding, tugging slowly as he licked a damp curve of flexing muscle on Clark's back. Hips wriggled back into his, sheathing him in tightness as Clark pushed up with his arms, sitting up, sitting back onto Lex's cock. Fingers stretched and sunken into the comforter, Clark rolled his hips, head falling back onto Lex's shoulder.
Face there, so fucking close to his own and Lex couldn't stop himself, licked out to taste the young, perfect skin. Clark turned his head and Lex's mouth came alive with the smart, sharp flavor of hot, lost control. He burned, ached for speed and friction as Clark slowly lowered and raised himself over and over and their tongues mingled, mouths half off, half on and it was good, so good.
Panting and flushed, eyes rolling back in his head, Clark reached down and lifted the hand that Lex was rubbing along his thigh, guiding it to his chest. He abused the nipple under his hand, crushed between his fingers, smoothed it flat with a vicious rub and rolled it, stroking the cock in his other hand hard until Clark's arms gave away and he fell forward with a cry.
Lex followed without a hitch, stroking along Clark's sides and back before he could protest, one coming to rest on Clark's hip, the other pressing hard into his lower back, fingers splayed out to cover as much golden skin as he could.
He pumped hard and found the quick, needy rhythm and didn't care that it wasn't going to last, found the groove that had Clark writhing, moaning and gritted his teeth and Lex closed his eyes and tried to keep it, tried to stretch it out, make it long and constant and perpetual.
Under him, he felt Clark's back tilt down and his eyes flashed open just to make sure, but Clark was on his face, eyes tight and mouth grimacing, hand reaching blindly back for Lex's, the other tucked under him, between skin and cloth, fingers brushing up between Lex's legs for a second and Lex laced his fingers through those that reached for him and that was it, Clark was jerking, calling out his release into the thick blanket beneath him, then into the thin air of the room as his head thrashed back and his spine arched. Lex drove in and rode out Clark's orgasm, the smooth muscles pumping his cock with every pulsing contraction, with every ragged thrust back.
Clark breathed out, legs pressing, wriggling against his own until Lex relented and released them, moving to kneel between them, one hand on the rise of Clark's ass as his sated body collapsed onto the bed, face rubbing back and forth on his forearms. "Don't stop..." - moaned as Lex sheathed himself again, convinced by the hand that reached back to grab his thigh and pull him forward, by the lifting of Clark's ass to meet his thrusts, the renewed determination in muscles that flexed with a purpose now, conscious and ambitious in their movements.
Hips driven low again by the force of his pumping, Clark arched his back, pushing up onto all fours again, hips snapping back fast. "Fuck... fuck me, Lex," whispered from lips he couldn't see, a mouth he couldn't reach.
Lex pulled out and sat back, head shaking in mute denial as he grabbed and shoved Clark onto his back and tucked his arms under Clark's thighs, lifting them up and sliding back in. Clark's head jerked back into the pillow and his mouth flew open, his eyes wide and head up again, chin tucking against his chest to see, but Lex was the one with clear vision, and he saw sweaty curls, muscles thrumming under smooth, wet skin and lips, blush, burnt red with the heat and effort, pink tongue licking out to cool them, to moisten them and he leaned down, taking Clark's hips with him as he rocked forward to kiss and bite and lick the color from that mouth.
Lips busy and vibrating with Clark's moans, with his own muffled cries and keening pleas, body tight and hard and moving, beating, pulsing into Clark's as he came, head thrown back and teeth sinking into his chest, pulling the skin. Penance, punishment, atonement in the stinging bite of pleasure and pain that gave him a focus and pulled him from the dizzy drunk fog of orgasm.
Breath revisited after too long, gasped in long-forgotten desperation, Lex panted and hung, trapped there above, inside Clark until strong, sure arms wrapped around him and insisted on drawing him down to a chest that heaved unconsciously for breath it didn't need.
Sometime in the night, in the quiet glow between dark and light, Lex woke and peeled himself off the sun-warm skin that clung to his chest and the underside of one arm. He rolled away, scrubbed a hand over his face and sat up, looking back over his shoulder at the mess he'd made.
Dark lashes threw needle-thin shadows onto Clark's cheeks and Lex leaned over, stretching to switch off the lamp on the opposite side of the bed.
In the bathroom he looked at his reflection with disapproval, disdain, annoyance as he washed his face and ran a cool washcloth over his chest and cock. The brush of it felt clean, so purifying, but the temperature brought him further from the sleep he knew he should get back to.
It was sealed, decided. Their future would wind together this way, not another. Lex stepped quietly over the crumpled pile of Clark's clothing as he walked into the room and pulled back the sheets.
He climbed onto the bed, wondering at the eternal coolness of cotton, and shook Clark's shoulder just a little as he tucked his feet under the covers. "Get under with me, Clark."
The soft murmur of ascent and the sleep-gentled features were the only betrayal to Clark's youth Lex saw as Clark scooted up and into the curve of his body. Lex pulled the sheets over their entwined limbs, shaking off the claustrophobia and relaxing against the raw, unconscious emotions that found his curves with sleep-heavy hands and held on tight.
Locked together in truth. He breathed it in, hunkering down in the safety of their union.
Inseparable now, no matter what.
Just the way it always should have been.