Cover By Slodwick

 

~ Possess It Merely ~

A  COLLABORATION  BY  ALAX  &  DANA

 

Pairing: Clark/Lex

Original Publication Date: November 2nd, 2002

Author’s Notes: This is what happens when two control freaks write a fic together. Here is
your OFFICIAL WARNING: If you're easily squicked, turn back now.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Goss & Nerodi, to whom this fic is dedicated. You guys can fight over who gets which boy! (Or hell, you can share and have one helluva party!)
Profuse groveling at the feet of our betas: Rhiannon, Beresford Lane, & Henry. Don't sue us, sue them! ;) A giant cup of cocoa and the use of our woobie (it's a *blanket!*) to Steven, who read for accuracy and had no idea what he was getting himself into.

Summary: “That it should come to this...”

Disclaimer: The people who own these characters would never subject them to something
like this.

Feedback: If you send it, we might just do this again sometime


************************************

“Clark, just leave it.”

Clark straightened from bending to pick up his napkin for the second time tonight.

“But-“

“They’ll bring you another one.” Lex smiled gently, which helped a little.

“I’m sorry, Lex. I just... I’ll never get used to places like this.”

This restaurant reminded him of the droning agony of Sunday services, a sanctuary to
something he’d never really identified with: large, open room, all rich colors below soft
lights and flickering candles. Everyone’s voices low and murmuring, everyone dressed in
clothes that were too good to ever see the inside of a laundry hamper. This kind of quiet
was always intimidating.

Lex swirled the wine in his glass, sniffing at it, closing his eyes and breathing it in before
taking a sip. Held it in his mouth for a moment, then nodded to their waiter, who bent to
fill Lex’s glass, then Clark’s.

Lex lifted his glass and tilted his head a little, a soft smile on his lips. “To us, Clark. Three
years.”

Clark played along and lifted his glass too, feeling a bit silly. “Three years and counting.”

Lex gifted him with a quick wink, then drank deeply from his glass. Clark sipped to seal the
toast and set his wine down carefully.

Six forks gleamed in the candlelight. One lay slightly askew, catching his eye. He pushed it
back in line with his thumb.

“Clark, relax.”

“I’m fine, Lex.” Uncomfortable, but fine. Great. Hungry. “By the way, did you order a
burger and fries for me?”

Clark knew he wouldn’t find a burger in a place like this, but it was an old joke between
them - he knew fast food, Lex knew fine dining. Clark grinned to himself. He loved having a
history with Lex. Thousands of memories, hundreds of inside jokes he could pull out of
nowhere to make Lex smile.

“We did burgers for your last birthday, remember?”

“Of course I remember.” How could he forget? Leave it to Lex Luthor to find the best
burger joint in Metropolis and rent it out for a dinner for two.

“I think I’ve demonstrated my willingness to eat cheeseburgers, Clark, but our anniversary
called for something a little more special, don’t you think?”

“They’ve all been special, Lex, and not because of the fancy dinners.”

Did Lex remember their first dinner here? Maybe that’s why he’d chosen this restaurant
tonight. They’d come here on their first night in the city. Their first real date. It’d
started here, formal and proper, and ended with them sprawled on the floor of the
penthouse. Their clothes had been strung up like banners all over the living room, the
bluish glow of the muted TV flickering on bare skin as they rocked together, finally
separating and panting, reclaiming their breath and thoughts, only to start over again, and
again until their exhaustion dragged them to the bedroom. Curtains closed against the
dawn, they’d dozed off, curled together easily like old lovers who drifted together in their
sleep.

“Clark?” Lex’s voice snapped him back to the present and he blinked slowly, mind lingering
on the cherished memory. Clark shifted in his chair and felt the small leather book jab him
in the chest. He should give it to Lex now, before their dinners arrived.

Clark reached inside his jacket to retrieve the journal and he glanced up at Lex. It wasn't
easy to part with, even if he knew he could probably still read it anytime he
wanted. Lex looked intrigued as Clark reached low over the table, handing the body-warm
volume to him. “Happy Anniversary, Lex.”

Lex’s hand met his halfway, fingers softly closing around the books. Eyes going from the
gift to Clark’s face, Lex leaned forward and spoke softly. “What-“

“Read the first page.” It was a silly superstition, really - leaving the first page blank. His
mom had passed the tradition on to him with his first journal, years and years ago. She’d
explained that it was in recognition of the past and it had seemed important to her at the
time, so he’d had left it blank in each of his journals. It seemed fitting to write the
inscription on the page he’d left in honor of what had come before.

Clark held his breath as Lex flipped open the thin leather cover and began to read. Clark
had the words memorized and said them in his mind as Lex’s eyes passed over each word.
“To Lex. Herein lies every date, every fight, every night we’ve ever shared. I know I won’t
ever forget, and now you won’t either.”

It had taken four hours to write and four seconds for Lex to read. He studied Lex’s face,
knowing any reaction would be subtle. Like the drop of Lex’s Adam’s apple, the tiny lift of
his eyebrows, the slightest hint of a smile that meant more than the grin it grew into.

“Thank you, Clark. I know what this means to you.” He heard what Lex was trying *not* to
say, how much the gift meant to Lex, not how much the journal meant to him. Lex was so
good at phrasing things just the right way to make him hear something else entirely.

There had been a time when Lex hadn’t been allowed to know Clark’s true thoughts
because of his secret. Now Lex knew everything; Clark held nothing back anymore. But the
journal was tangible evidence, proof that Lex could hold in his hand. A record of thoughts
and feelings that had been denied him.

Clark grinned and reached for Lex’s hand before remembering where they were. He
covered the mistake by lifting his glass and taking another sip of wine. Lex smiled at the
gesture, laying his hand over the journal, tracing the leather binding with a finger, then
tucked it into the breast pocket of his jacket. Clark wondered if the book was still warm
from being next to his chest all night. Could Lex feel that warmth through the satin lining
of his jacket, through his silk shirt?

In a flourish of waiters, their dinner arrived and it wasn’t some incomprehensible
conglomeration of foreign foods. It was Chicken Cordon Bleu, his favorite French dish. It
was never as good as his mom’s version, but he mentally thanked Lex for remembering and
ducked his head as the waiter handed him another linen napkin. So embarrassing.

As he opened the fresh napkin and spread it on his lap, the corner of the dropped napkin
caught his eye. Cheeks heating, he toed it further under the table, scooting it out of sight.
Something stopped his attempt, and Lex stiffened and straightened, eyes locking on his
from across the table. What he thought was the table leg suddenly shifted slightly. Clark
smiled wide at his chicken, then went to work cutting small pieces, slowly lifting Lex’s cuff
with the tip of his shoe. Lex’s fork clacked gently down on his plate and he leaned forward,
nudging his wine aside to look Clark in the eye. “Clark?” Lex’s voice was low and soft.

“Yeah, Lex?” Sliding his foot a little higher, Clark wished he had the guts to kick off his
shoe and feel the smooth skin under his nylon-socked foot.

Lex’s eyes slid quickly around the room, then locked back onto Clark’s, his mouth curling
with a chiding smile. The leg under Clark’s foot moved away, and his foot dropped, hitting
hard on the plush carpet.

“As much as I enjoyed that, you know this isn’t the place for it. Lex tilted his head to
indicate the room’s occupants – Metropolis’ beautiful people, leaders of industry and old
money. After three years Clark didn’t need to be told what that meant - there’d be
reporters here, too, from the Daily Planet as well as the less scrupulous tabloids. “I for
one would prefer not to make the morning’s society pages.”

Clark looked down at his plate and frowned, appetite abandoning him, nostalgic again for an
anonymous little burger dive. For the freedom to be themselves, together.

“Don’t pout, Clark. We’ll be home soon enough.” Clark heard the satisfaction in Lex's tone,
and knew tonight was going to be one of *those* nights. Lex would get his way while Clark
pretended to be content with following his lead. But he’d just given Lex three years of his
life (sans bow because Lex hated to open presents) and Clark felt a surge of confidence.
He eyed their waiter and grinned. “Hey Lex, how do you say ‘doggie bag’ in French?”

Lex laughed into his fist, carefully *not* choking on a bite of his entree, and shook his
head as he swallowed. “Patience is a virtue, Clark. I’m sure your father must have
mentioned it at some point during your upbringing. Besides, I haven’t given you your present
yet.”

Clark pulled himself back up to the table and started to cut another piece of his chicken.
Before lifting it to his mouth, he glanced at Lex and smiled. The challenge had been issued
and he could answer it. He could be patient. Sort of.

“So what did you get me?” Playful, stupid Smallville laugh that he hadn’t been able to leave
behind and Lex just smiled, dropped his hand below the table and arched up a little to slip
it into the pocket of his slacks.

Stretching his neck to see over the table, Clark dropped his fork too loudly on his plate
and swallowed the bite of chicken in his mouth. Lex’s long fingers pushed the tiny blue box
discretely across the linen tablecloth and Clark.

Stopped breathing.

Would maybe never breathe again.

Lex smiled, obviously enjoying his reaction, then nodded towards the box with an
encouraging whisper. “Open it.”

Clark wiped his hands absently on his lap, vaguely hoping he hit the napkin there but only
half-caring. Slowly, he reached for the small, velvet-covered box. His fingers trembled as
he flipped it open and stared, unbelieving, at the silver - no *platinum* - ring. A single
rectangular stone was embedded in the smooth band.

This couldn’t be happening.

It was though; it was really happening, and the proof sparkled up into his eyes. Clark’s mind
raced with hope, fear and relief as he stared at the ring.

*The* ring.

The one he’d never take off, the one he’d wear even in the shower, *every* shower, for the
rest of his life. He couldn’t make his mouth work and looked to Lex for help.

Lex sat casually back in his chair, face full of unguarded pleasure, but he wasn’t saying
anything, wasn’t *asking* anything. Just sitting there, calmly smiling across from him as
Clark’s heart stopped and he waited, prayed through slightly parted lips to hear the
question.

“Do you like it, Clark?”

Not that question.

Okay, so maybe Lex was nervous, stalling. Clark tore his eyes from Lex, from the ring, and
glanced around. Only a handful of patrons were watching them now, a handful too many.
This wasn’t right. Lex wouldn’t do this here. A hesitant glance back at the ring, the ring
that he knew now was *just* a ring.

A ring with a *red* stone, not a diamond.

Clark swallowed the lump in his throat and forced his mouth into a smile. Chided himself
for being so naive. “It’s... it’s amazing, Lex.”

“It’s meteorite, Clark.” Lex’s voice dropped low and a smirk lifted his face. “Will you wear
it for me tonight?”

Okay, so it wasn’t *just* a ring.

Clark smoothed his thumb over the blood-red stone, a rush of liberating freedom, clear
and cutting, surging through his body. A wide smile stretched his face, then as fast as it
had come, the electric feeling was gone.

It could be his again in an instant. The confidence, the attitude, the power to *command
respect*. He could possess them all right now if he just…

Clark’s chest tightened and he stared at the man across the table for a solid minute,
carefully weighing the freedom against the risks before snapping the box shut.

“No.” It felt good, felt like retaliation for being the butt of a joke Lex hadn’t meant to
tell. Guilt followed hard on the heels of satisfaction though. Lex hadn’t led him on; the
assumption had been his own.

He supposed Lex deserved more than a curt ‘no’ for all the effort this ring must’ve taken.
Still, what could Lex have been thinking? Clark couldn’t imagine that ring ever hugging his
finger now. “I’m sorry, Lex. You know I can’t.”

“Can’t? Or won’t? I want you that way, Clark. Don’t you want to feel like that again?”

“You want me hurting people? You want me out of control?” Clark hadn’t told Lex
everything about that day. Hadn’t told him about hitting his father or showing off in the
bar, beating those guys up, but Lex had seen enough to know that he hadn’t been himself
at all.

“It doesn’t have to be like that, Clark.” Lex reached for the wine bottle and started to
pour Clark another glass, dismissing the approaching waiter with a wave of his hand. After
refilling his own glass as well, he pointed the bottle at Clark. “I want to see Clark Kent
completely uninhibited.”

Clark didn’t want any more wine, and he didn’t want to give in. “Lex, I - I don’t think it’s a
good idea. I mean, we don’t know what could happen.”

Lex held him with a steady gaze while his tongue flicked out, licking lips that curled into a
sexy smile Clark felt in his knees. “I’m game.”

Before Clark could respond, Lex nodded at their waiter, who smiled back at them and sped
from the main room. He watched the tuxedoed man disappear, very aware that Lex was
tucking the ring back into his pocket. The waiter came into his view, reappearing with a
generous dish of tira misu, another of his favorites.

He looked up from the dessert to see Lex watching him expectantly, waiting for a
concession about the ring. Clark thought about rambling off the list of reasons he wasn’t
going to wear it.

It was too dangerous, too uncertain, too unpredictable. There was no way to stop the
effects unless he removed the ring himself. Unless... but somehow, Clark didn’t think Lex
kept a sledgehammer in the penthouse. Lex seemed so pleased with the gift, the idea.
Clark didn’t want to ruin their dinner or their anniversary, but he couldn’t say yes either.
“I’ll think about it.”

But it wasn’t even an option, not really. Even with some maturity and life experience under
his belt, there was no way to predict what wearing that ring might do to him now.

Halfway through the dessert, Clark dropped the spoon and sat back, unable to finish. Food
was a rude, thick reminder of the only real necessity in his life. Lex’s gray eyes glinted
with a quiet devotion that seemed enough to make Clark forget about the ring he *didn’t*
get tonight, the ring so much of him had craved, *needed.*

The ring that would be more than a toy.

Lex smiled gently and leaned forward, a full body gesture, and Clark knew anyone watching
had no doubts about the nature of their relationship.

“Let’s go home, Clark.” That fast, Lex stood, inclined his head at the waiter and pulled out
his wallet.

The cheque paid, their coats were brought to them and Clark watched as Lex slid into his,
donning it like a second skin.

Long black overcoat hanging open like he was too sexy to ever get cold, Lex blazed a trail
through the restaurant. The door was opened for them and Lex didn’t pause to thank
anyone, but Clark nodded his appreciation to the doorman on the way out.

Outside, the air was cool and clean, the sleek black limo gleaming with raindrops.

Streetlights threw a muted sheen on oily pavement, and big, cold drops continued to fall so
steadily that Clark felt himself grinning at the promise of snowfall overnight.

It wasn’t the childish prospect of escaping Met U for a snow day, but a guilty secret
desire that the morning would find the roads too icy to drive, and he might have Lex all to
himself for the entire day. The last time that happened it hadn’t taken long for Lex’s
ever-present laptop and mobile phone to be forgotten at the foot of the bed.

He fell in beside Lex on the deep rear seat, the heavy door closing with a discrete *thunk.*
The warmth of the interior wrapped around him, a visceral pleasure; he imagined it
enveloping them like the thick down comforter on Lex’s bed – a quiet, shared intimacy.

The ride home was always a relief to Clark after their “romantic dinners.” Like tonight, he
was used to them being anything *but* romantic. The attention Lex drew wherever he
went made their public outings together date-simulations at best, the lie compounded,
made all the more painful each time they marked their anniversary. He *understood* all
the reasons for the charade; agreed with them most of the time, even. But still, it made
him ache even more for the freedom to be honest about his life. He knew Lex understood
his melancholy mood on such nights even if they rarely talked about it.

Recessed bulbs bathed the compartment in a dim, golden glow that Clark absently reached
to completely extinguish as the car pulled away from the curb. His attention turned to the
patterns streaking down the dark glass, rivulets charting ever-changing landscapes. Fat,
beaded drops slid down, prisming the light from neon signs and traffic signals. Sharp,
glittering jewel tones that wouldn’t let him forget the ring he hadn’t been able to accept
at dinner. The ring Lex had taken off the table and returned to his pocket - ostensibly
forgotten, but probably weighing as heavily on Lex’s mind as it was on his own.

Heavy like the weight of Lex’s patient regard, and when Clark finally turned to face him,
his heart tripped in acknowledgment of the stark beauty before him.

Lex’s face never ceased to fascinate him. He could sometimes just look up and catch Lex in
a random moment – sensual lips quirking at some private thought while he read the paper
over his morning coffee, slate eyes lively with genuine laughter when he scored off Clark
during a rare Playstation marathon. Or like right now, when the hunger he felt for Clark lay
raw and vulnerable in his expression. In those unexpected moments, Clark would be struck
momentarily dumb by his good fortune, by his love for Lex.

Light and shadow from passing headlights and streaming rain were in constant play across
pale features. Shadowy streams moved on Lex’s cheeks, nose, lips and chin, tempting Clark
to reach out, to wipe at the flowing lines. The images transferred to the back of his hand
as he rubbed along Lex’s jawline, curving his fingers along the milky neck.

They leaned forward in unison, lips brushing in the softest of kisses, a brief, chaste caress
before he gently pushed Lex back onto the seat. He loved the feel of Lex’s body moving
under his while his lover took the kiss ever deeper, slick tongue stroking into him, tasting
him, taking pleasure in him. Lex’s hands went to his face and pushed him up, separating
them for a moment. He rubbed his hips against Lex’s, grinding down into hard flesh and
muscle as he tried to keep his balance on the slick leather of the seat.

Lex gazed up into his eyes, the unspoken words there, strong and sure, almost enough to
make up for never hearing them aloud. He believed the look in Lex’s eyes, in the firm hold
on his body, but sometimes he needed the kind of proof Lex always demanded from him.

Clark slipped his hands into the heat under Lex’s jacket, massaging lean ribs. A giddy rush
of emotion caught his breath as hard muscles shifted and rippled under the fine silk shirt,
under skin he knew to be just as soft and lustrous as the material covering it. Tongues
sliding fast and wet against each other, long legs tangled together, pressed against the
side of the car. He moved his thigh down into Lex’s growing arousal just to feel Lex gasp
into his mouth.

Teeth bit *hard* into his lip and long fingers pushed against his shoulders, pushed him
back. Lex stared up at him with kiss-swollen lips and heavy-lidded eyes and Clark was in
his good fortune place again, all heavy breathing and stupid grin and thrusting hips.

A hand tangled in his hair, keeping inches of space between their lips as Lex spoke. “You’re
so quiet tonight. I want to hear you, Clark. Tell me all the things you want me to do to you.
All the things you know I’m *going* to do to you when I get you home.”

"Clark captured Lex's lips in another frantic kiss, groaning his frustration into the other
man, but knew he didn’t stand a chance. Lex was fascinated with his mouth – hard not to
figure that out the way he sometimes watched Clark speak; watched Clark shape every
word, and Lex especially liked the dirty ones. He might even have gotten off on hearing
what Clark *really* wanted to do, but that didn’t mean he’d let him do it. And Clark
couldn’t ask again, couldn’t bear to be told no again.

“I want you to - oh fuck - yes.” The words stuck in his throat, finally spilling out as a moan
when strong hands tightened on his ass, pulling him down to grind harder between Lex’s
legs. Such a mean thing for Lex to tease him with, and he groaned his frustration, rubbing
in slow, rhythmic motions, the leather creaking beneath his knees.

Lex’s slow, knowing smile made his cock jump, and there was a big hand sliding over his
stomach, inching between them, rubbing him through his slacks. Lex’s hot mouth on his
throat, sucking *just* hard enough to pull the needy whimpers from him that made him
want to scream *yes* and *more* and *harder* and *fuck.* Anything, everything Lex
wanted to hear. Couldn’t manage anything sexier than, “Yes, Lex. Yes.”

Teeth grazed their way along the line of his jaw and Lex’s tongue was deep in his ear,
sending a shiver all the way down his body. He threw his head back with a throaty moan,
his hands moving down to cover Lex’s hips, hold them still while he thrust hard, forcing
Lex’s legs up. Thighs gripping his waist and he pumped harder, pushing Lex deeper into the
seat beneath them.

Lex breathed into his ear, “So sexy... Three years, Clark, and I want you more every day.”

“Oh, God.”

“Talk to me, Clark. We’re almost to the penthouse. What are we going to do tonight?”

Ragged breathing echoed in the small space, their bodies frozen in the erotic pose. He slid
his cock between Lex’s legs, material a hated thing now. He wouldn’t dare try anything like
this naked, Lex would never let him.

Clark swallowed the lump in his throat and licked his lips. He loved Lex like this, hanging
breathless on his every word. “I’m going to- I want you to fuck me, Lex. I want you to fuck
me for hours.” It was almost what he really wanted to say. Not really a lie. All the right
pronouns were present anyway. “Fuck me, Lex. I want you inside me.”

The limo glided to a halt and Lex pushed him up and off before Clark could get his feet
under him, hand clutching at his sleeve.

Lex flung open the door, startling the approaching doorman, and climbed out of the limo,
pulling Clark behind him. Ten steps passed in six and they were in out of the drizzling rain,
jacket shoulders barely spotted from the drops. The elevator was never empty, a fact that
Lex lamented often and from the look on his face, was silently cursing as they rode the
long haul to the penthouse. In the mirrored doors, he saw Lex grin at the back of the
elevator attendant’s head, then felt Lex’s hand sweep over his ass.

Clark shot him a scandalized look because he knew he was supposed to, then smiled and
looked back to the doors of the elevator.

********

Inside the penthouse, Lex’s hands were on him before the door even clicked shut, tugging
at the buttons of his stiff dress shirt, sliding Lex’s own silk tie from Clark’s collar,
dropped forgotten to the floor. Pulling and groping their way down the hall between
desperately breathless kisses against the walls, they stumbled into the bedroom.

Clark caressed the smooth naked skin of Lex’s throat, neck and scalp, so soft under his
fingers. The fine silk of his shirt didn’t compare to Lex’s *skin* and he had to touch what
was exposed, had to satisfy that familiar, urgent need before he could concentrate on
exposing more. Lex’s hands connected low on his stomach, brushing, almost tickling there,
then moving on the zipper of his pants, knuckles grazing his erection. Clark pressed his lips
into the fragrant hollow beneath Lex’s perfectly-shaped ear.

Clark toed off his shoes and stretched down to peel off his socks while Lex claimed his
mouth again, probing the dark recess behind his upper lip before sucking first it and then
the lower into his mouth to be teased with teeth and tongue. Pants slipping off his hips
and pooling at his ankles, he kicked them aside. He started to protest the loss of contact
when Lex pushed him away with both hands on his chest, but the sensual promise in blue-
gray eyes silenced him. He let himself be guided back, didn’t look over his shoulder to see
where he was going, just let Lex move him. He fell onto the thick bedding when Lex gave
another light push.

Lex stepped back and Christ, he could have been a *stripper,* because he knew exactly
how to turn buttons into sexy, lewd objects and zippers into phallic playthings. Shirt
buttons flicked open under nimble fingers before cuff links were slowly, methodically
removed, shirt cuffs hanging open around strong, elegantly-boned wrists. Just more skin
Clark’s hands were itching to touch.

Lex’s smug look told Clark that he knew exactly the effect he was having, and with Clark’s
boxers tenting he guessed it wasn’t that big a mystery, but the way Lex *looked.* Small,
secret smile and knowing eyes, and *fuck,* pink tongue lingering in the groove of the
forever-fascinating scar, wetting lips Clark could still taste from the kisses they’d shared
earlier, licking right where Clark wanted to be.

“There’s one more thing I want to give you, Clark.”

Anything. He wanted it *all,* wanted everything Lex *was* with an intensity that eclipsed
everything else.

His senses were firing, completely attuned to every rasp of fabric, every shift of muscle,
to the ebb and flow of blood through Lex’s rapidly-beating heart. Pale purple silk skittered
along perfect, smooth skin as it slid down Lex’s arms and *that* was his new favorite
sound, although it would probably lose rank when Lex spoke again.

Black pants that would shred under his eager hands right now whispered along Lex’s legs
instead, falling in a rush to the floor, and the sight of Lex totally naked was something he
would never, ever get enough of. There was something so sexy about the way clothes just
melted off of him, the way Lex left them lying on the floor instead of bending to pick
them up. Like habits and *things* were so easily forgotten when Lex was undressing,
thinking about him.

Blinking was a foreign concept now, something he *used* to do, because he couldn’t miss a
second of Lex crawling over his body. Lex’s fingers hooked inside the waistband of his
boxers and slid them down, then he moved up, licking and sucking his way from hipbones to
collar bone. Even achingly hard, Clark wanted it like this, slow and sensual and exactly how
Lex always was.

Lex climbed up his body, chest moving above Clark’s face as he stretched up for something
above their heads. Lex’s nipple brushed his cheek and Clark couldn’t help but arch up into
the strength, the heat that hovered over him, his body begging for contact, his lips burning
to pull that tempting flesh into his mouth for one brief taste.

A soft, soothing voice vibrated into his neck, sending ripples of pleasure down into his
chest as Lex tucked a pillow under his head. “Relax, Clark.”

Somewhere along Lex’s slick, wet journey from ear to cock, Clark closed his eyes. Nipples
sucked, rolled between teeth and that made the trip as much fun as the destination.
Warmth, damp and familiar, wrapped slowly around his cock. Clark sank into the bed, losing
himself in the tight pull, in the lips that circled him, sliding up and down over desperately
sensitive skin.

So easy to just open his eyes and watch Lex, but one moment of gray eyes seducing his own
and there would be nothing left of his agonizingly slow, deliriously good self-torture. He’d
come hot and hard down Lex’s throat and it would be over way too soon.

So he squeezed his eyes tighter, willing his brain to steer clear of any accidental x-ray
moments, focusing on the push of Lex’s fingers into his thighs. He gave into the pressure
there and spread them further apart, feet sliding against the cool sheets. Insistent hands
urging his thighs higher and he knew Lex was looking, knew he was seeing every part of him
and hesitated. Lex moaned around his cock and Clark let go, let the shyness melt out of
him and puddle on the floor. He reached down and wrapped his hands around the front of
his own ankles, lifting his legs up against the sides of his chest.

The mouth on his cock disappeared, leaving it to slap gently against his stomach. Lex licked
his own fingers and Clark pumped into thin air at the wet sound. Fingers slid against his
ass, behind his balls, trailing wetness wherever they touched, pressed. Arched up and
remembered to squeeze his eyelids tight again. Couldn’t look, couldn’t watch this if he
wanted to come with Lex in him, and he did. Christ, he did.

Teeth scraped along the juncture of leg and torso and Clark bucked up into them, every
muscle tense with anticipation. Lex’s tongue, flat and wide, licking once over his cock,
pressure hard and wonderful. Down the length and Lex could just do *that* a few more
times and this would be over. Lips kneading his balls, mouthing them wet and slippery, then
the warmth, the wetness moving lower, moving *too* low, sending a shock through his body
and he almost, almost didn’t jerk away from it. But then he opened his eyes, saw Lex’s eyes
closed, his tongue darting out to taste him and he felt his body heat with stinging
embarrassment, dropped his legs to thwart Lex’s intentions.

Lex’s hands tightened on his thighs, a clear attempt at restraint and one he would normally
defer to, even though they both knew Lex was no match for him.

“Clark, please. I want- I want to do this.” Lex’s head nuzzled between his legs, hands
pushing them insistently apart and the hot tongue swiped across him again. He bolted up,
pulling gently at Lex’s shoulders, trying to get his arms around Lex and move him before
Lex could respond.

“Clark, don’t. Let me give this to you.”

Clark’s stomach dropped for the second time tonight. Another unwelcome anniversary gift,
but he didn’t want to be upset, didn’t want to feel resentment tonight. Lex was generous
to a fault with him, and he would never harbor a selfish motive, not with him. Lex wanted
him to enjoy this, wanted him to feel good and wanted them to know each other in every
possible way. Clark knew it was true, even if it didn’t feel that way.

Lex’s hand released his thigh and brushed at his arm. Clark relented, hands dropping
heavily down on the bed. Lex’s mouth reconnected at his hip, sliding lower with each
dizzying second and he wanted it, needed to give Lex what he wanted, but couldn’t bear to
think of Lex’s tongue on him *there.* Lex’s lips didn’t stop moving though. Didn’t stop
slipping lower and down, sucking thin skin gently between them.

"Lex, I- it's..." Clark shook his head, couldn’t call something that felt that good ‘disgusting.’

He pulled at Lex’s arms again, not quite hard enough to actually move him, but hard enough
that Lex should definitely get the hint. Lex’s tongue licked a slow, lazy circle and Clark
gasped, panting a protest. “No, stop.. it’s-“

The warmth jolting his body stopped and he looked down to see Lex smiling up at him. “It's
what, Clark? I just want to taste you.” The *words* sounded so fucking sexy and Lex could
seduce anyone with words like “taste” and “want.” Clark let his eyes fall closed and he
stifled a moan when the tongue returned to the inside of his thigh, slipping back to the one
place he’d never let Lex explore this way.

Heated, hard breath tickled the hair of his thighs. His legs shook and he slid them down a
little before Lex’s hands closed tighter around them.

“Shh. Just relax, Clark. Let me show you how good it can feel." One long swipe and he
clutched the sheets in his fists for a torturously electric moment, veins pulsing with
pleasure and the thrill of something that his mind couldn’t wrap completely around, couldn’t
allow him to enjoy, because it just wasn’t *right*.

He sucked in a quick breath and he could smell himself, could practically taste what Lex
was tasting. The realization, the knowledge that Lex was pushing his *tongue* inside him
sent shivers over his body. He slid back on the bed, pushing away from Lex, and sat up,
praying that Lex wouldn’t be angry this time. "Lex, please. Just... don't, okay?"

Lex slowly moved to sit back on his heels, eyes closed, head thrown back with a deep
exasperated sigh, and not. Saying. Anything.

"Lex, don't be mad. You know I get embarrassed-"

Lex opened his eyes, lowering them to meet his and there was frustration there, but such
obvious tenderness, too. He *did* want to please Lex, desperately, but Lex was asking for
things he couldn’t give him. Why was he making Clark deny him?

“Yes, I *know* you get embarrassed.” Lex reached out to soothe, palming his hand down
Clark’s thigh to finger the sensitive flesh behind his knee while he continued. “Clark, I
don't want to pressure you to do something you're not comfortable with, but this is why I
thought the ring might be a good idea. I just want you to relax. To lose some of your
inhibitions. I just want you to enjoy everything that we can do together.”

Lex shifted to lean over the side of the bed and retrieve his suit jacket from the floor.
Clark watched as Lex reached in the pocket and pulled out the small blue velvet box.
Temptation in a perfect little package.

The lid opened with a distinct snap and he knew it was only a trick of the light, but the
stone seemed to glow from within.

Clark tore his eyes away to look back at Lex, whose shallow breath was coming faster, eyes
fixed intently now, willing him to rise to this challenge, and Lex wanted this more than he
had guessed. Lex wanted this and Clark knew he’d do anything, he’d give anything Lex
asked of him, even this. Looking up into the gray eyes that blinked slowly with a seductive
patience, Clark wondered if there had ever really been any doubt. He licked his suddenly
dry lips and hesitantly nodded his assent.

The smile that lit Lex’s face steeled his conviction, and Clark offered his hand for the
transformation. He watched breathless as Lex slipped the beautiful and terrible thing
onto his finger and let himself imagine for one moment how it would feel when he and Lex
shared an exchanging of rings that would represent their commitment, rings that meant
they were bound to each other forever. Someday maybe the ring Lex slid onto his finger
would be more than a game or a gift.

It would be *everything.*

He savored the dream of forever for a too-short moment before the meteor’s effects
swept through him in a exhilarating rush of primal awareness.

********************************************

Lex smoothed the ring onto a long tanned finger and shook off the surge of misgiving he
felt, slowly raising his eyes to search Clark’s face for signs of alteration.

Clark stared back unflinchingly, changeable eyes warm amber tonight, and Lex couldn’t help
but think of a large cat, Clark’s languid pose a mirage shimmering with the promise of
explosive power. Power that was always an element with Clark’s long muscular limbs laid
bare, but it was suddenly palpable in the air and Lex felt his own cock swelling in response.

Lex opened his mouth to ask him how he felt and Clark’s legs fell open suggestively, brow
raised in mocking invitation. Lex’s cock jumped.

“Clark?”

“Do it, Lex. Lick me.” Clark’s hand moved to tug on his own hardening cock. “I want it.
*Now.*”

Lex’s brain fizzled under the heat radiating from Clark’s eyes and his body, and now from
his mouth, too. Beautiful lips spilling hard, dirty words that Clark knew he craved, and he
didn’t waste any time complying with Clark’s demand.

He stretched out on his stomach between wide-spread thighs as Clark’s hands lifted them
up, pulling them further apart, and Lex moaned, buried his face deep in the heat between
Clark’s legs. Breathed Clark’s smell – sharp, unadulterated essence of pure, sweet boy, and
he flicked his tongue reverently over the dark center.

Clark didn’t pull away, didn’t push him away. This time Clark moaned and lifted his hips off
the bed, not trying to escape but begging for more, and Lex was eager to give it. He
lapped at the surface like a cat with cream until he felt the tight ring of resistance begin
to unfurl under his attention. His tongue pushed deep into the clenching center. Acutely
aware of Clark jacking hard on his own cock, Lex stretched his tongue in as far as he could,
nose and mouth sealed closed against the cloying flesh.

“Oh, *fuck*, yes. *Deeper,* Lex.”

He watched Clark writhe, pinching and pulling at his nipples with his free hand. Lex thrust
his tongue hard into his lover, sliding it slowly in and out, again and again, until he was
forced to pull back and gasp for breath.

“Fuck, *don’t stop*. Harder, Lex. Make me come.”

Lex took another deep breath and filled his mouth with Clark’s balls, rolling and tonguing
them, watching Clark pump his cock. Watching Clark watching him with an avarice that fed
his own. Felt himself drooling, and pulled back to lick his saliva from between Clark’s legs,
lips and tongue sucking and slurping down again, down for another taste of heaven, groaning
his bliss into Clark.

“I want to *fuck* you, Lex.” And Clark was arching up, shaking the bed, coming hard,
groaning the words. Words he had heard from Clark before, but never like that.

He pulled back and savored the sight as Clark’s body rippled with the aftershocks of
orgasm. Wiped his chin with the back of his hand and drank in the sight of Clark, spread
out before him, open and confident. They’d had sex too many times for Clark to qualify as
newly-debauched, but that was exactly how he appeared, angelic features flushed with
sweat and sex, eyes heavy lidded in satiated afterglow, lips ripe and swollen. Lex loved
that he could do this to Clark. His *cock* loved that he could this to Clark, and now it was
demanding equal attention.

"Turn over for me, Clark." His voice shook with tightly reined lust, and damn, but that ring
was proving worth every penny.

Clark pushed up on his elbows, his foot rubbing long lines along Lex’s thigh, his chin tilted
up and a wide smile spreading his lips. "Not this time, Lex. *You* turn over for *me*."
Clark challenged, licking red lips, eyes like hot hands moving greedily over Lex’s body.

“What?” He laughed softly, admiring Clark’s audacity. Sexy as hell delivered out of that
soft, fuckable mouth.

Clark was still touching himself, the sated cock quickly returning to a more demanding
state under the rough strokes. He could stay right there, just watching Clark’s body
respond to his own touches, for hours.

"Come on, Lex, we’re just getting started,” he waggled his ring finger, catching the room’s
soft light in the glowing stone. “I’m going to give you what you paid for."

For one heart-stopping moment, Lex’s chest tightened with the certainty that this was a
mistake. Clark sounded bitter, almost angry, and Lex did *not* want to see Clark angry in
bed, especially not while wearing that particular ring. He inhaled deeply, eyes trying to a
read the face that was usually so open and... There - there it was. Familiar hazel eyes
filled with obvious amusement as they roamed unabashedly over Lex’s body. Lust edging
Clark’s features, but something more too. Something slightly wicked, but he didn’t think
that was a *bad* thing. So, okay, no need to rush things. If Clark still wanted to play,
they could play.

Lex considered the body spread boneless before him; his own private playground. Hell,
Clark’s body was a fucking amusement park, and right now he couldn’t decide which
attraction was most deserving of his attention.

He leaned down to press another kiss on the soft inner face of Clark’s thigh before swiping
his tongue across the weeping cock head. His neck strained with the effort to brace
himself over slim hips when Clark’s hand stopped working the shaft and reached out to pull
him all the way down on its length.

His entire body tensed until he realized just how pointless any resistance was. A low
chuckle above his head told him that particular fact had not gone unnoticed by Clark,
either. The hand palming the back of his head urged him down again and he opened his
throat, letting Clark slide deeper. One thrust became five in a brutal, dizzying rhythm and
just like that Clark was trying to fuck his way to another orgasm. Lex wasn’t having it; as
much as he was enjoying the new aggressiveness, Clark still wasn’t running this show –
super-powers be damned. On the next outstroke, he pushed the warm hand away and pulled
off Clark with a wet pop.

He smirked at the clearly frustrated boy and crawled his way up Clark’s body, leaving a
wet trail of rapidly-vanishing bite marks across the tight abdomen and ribs, relishing every
little twitch and quiver under his mouth. Clark was making him work for each reaction,
swallowing all the sweet mewling sounds that normally accompanied their sex play.

He had just started teasing Clark’s taut nipples when he found himself flat on his back.
Lex’s brain caught up with his body and he felt heavy limbs suddenly pinning him to the
bed. Flashes of hiding in closets, feeling small and weak and he could *almost* remember
being there, not that he wanted to. Not when Clark’s sharp teeth bit *hard* into his
shoulder.

The pain shot through his neck and back, his body shuddering, a strangled cry escaping his
lips. “Jesus, Clark! Yes, do that again.” And again, and again, because Clark wasn’t holding
back now, wasn’t being careful, and Lex had *dreamed* of this. It didn’t even matter that
Clark was looking at him like *he* was the alien here. *Fuck that* because yeah, biting’s a
kink, but it wasn’t like Clark hadn’t known about it since day one.

“Do it, Clark.” He was *not* pleading, except this Clark was starting to feel like a tease.

“You want me to hurt you, Lex?”

"Yes.” Emphatically. “Christ, it feels so good."

Clark’s teeth sank into his skin again at the same bruised juncture of neck and shoulder,
breaking the surface this time and ripping a hoarse scream from him. A dizzying rush of
air and the world went black, his pained ecstatic cry muffled by a pillow. One large hand,
strong between his shoulder blades, pressing him down into the mattress. His face
flattened, Lex sucked breath desperately through thick cotton. Before he could form
thoughts or words, a second hand snaked around his belly and yanked, lifting his ass high in
the air.

Clark leaned over him, cock grinding into the cleft of Lex’s ass, and murmured, "Then
you’re going to feel this everywhere, Lex."

Sharp blade of panic cutting deep before he remembered that, ring or not, this was still
*Clark*. “Clark, stop. You know that's not what I meant.”

"Don’t worry, I know just what you meant. You’ve been teaching me for three years how to
interpret your hidden meanings, haven’t you, Lex?”

The bitterness in Clark’s voice sent a chill down his spine. He’d heard bitterness before,
was a self-acknowledged expert on it, but he’d never heard that brand of sarcasm from
Clark’s lips. He wasn’t sure how to react. Hell, he wasn’t even entirely sure what the
problem was, but he definitely wasn’t in a position to soothe Clark’s frustration.

Clark obviously had other ideas for working out his feelings, hips pumping against Lex’s ass,
rubbing the length of his cock roughly across the sensitized flesh of his hole, Hurt feelings
be damned, Clark knew the rules. He found himself moving, clutching at the sheets, making
a real effort to get away – out from under arms and hands that gripped like steel. He was
*not* going to panic. Clark was *not* going to fuck him. Clark knew him, knew fucking him
wasn’t an option. He relaxed back into the motions and Clark’s hand stroked soothingly
down his body. The thrusts slowed and he lifted his head, drew in a deep breath.

It was a short-lived reprieve, because Clark was suddenly teasing him with a spit-slicked
finger. He jerked in the unyielding embrace. “Whoa, Lex, easy. You wanted me to enjoy
myself, didn't you? Isn’t that what my anniversary present was all about?”

“Clark, I said stop! This is *not* a game.”

Clark’s low laugh raised goosebumps on Lex’s spine. "It's always a game, Lex, and you
always win.” A blunt finger slipped inside him; fucking him gently; making him shiver. “But
not this time."

"Clark, you know I don’t do that.” He spoke with every iota of Luthor authority he could
muster, satisfied by the even tone of command.

“Where's *your* ring, Lex?”

His mouth snapped shut on three completely inadequate responses before conceding to
himself that Clark’s point was valid. Not that he’d concede it to Clark. He didn’t *do*
that. Period and end of discussion.

Clark’s finger disappeared as he sat back on his heels and wrapped both arms tightly
around him.

Lex’s mind calmed under the balm of silky curls and hot breath caressing his back, sliding
low and lower. Clark’s face buried in the small of his back, licking cool stripes there,
moaning frustration against his spine. “I want inside you, Lex. Please, I want all of you.”

Even with the mouth sucking low on his back, he was pretty sure Clark was talking about
something other than fucking now. Or something in addition to fucking. Either way, he
wasn’t prepared. Like a bad dream, he was on the spot and had nothing fucking prepared.
He was opening his mouth to say God knows what when he felt Clark’s tongue move lower,
move deliberately against him, and what came out of his mouth was as incoherent to him as
to Clark, he was sure.

Clark’s tongue laved against him and relief crashed through his body. And *fuck yes,*
unspeakable pleasure too. Clark’s mouth on his asshole, and he never would have imagined
that even red meteorite could overcome *that* particular inhibition, but so much the
better.

Lex’s chest and shoulders sank, relaxing into the soft bedding, tension draining away, and
he was offering himself freely now because Clark was playing nice, *giving* again. Giving
him something he’d been asking for for years.

Clark’s face pressed hard against his ass, tongue circling and pushing its way past the
resistant ring of muscle, delving deep inside. The vibrations of a moan Lex could feel in his
spine made his body tense with ripples of pleasure, his feet flex with the urge to move,
push down onto Clark’s mouth. Too soon, the slick fullness was gone and Clark’s breath
ghosted up over his back. “Mmm, Lex. You taste so good. Tell me again why we didn’t do
this sooner?”

“Fuck, Clark.” Lex’s muffled groan was all the response he could manage as he clenched his
stomach, turning his head to the side, sucking in a breath heavy with the scent of Clark
and sex and himself. It was a rhetorical question, anyway. Clark knew damned well why
they’d never done this before, and it wasn’t Lex’s hang-up.

He *wanted* to say that to Clark, but that mouth was back on him, sucking and biting at
his very core, and all he could do was writhe down into the white-hot desire that multiplied
with every thrust of Clark’s tongue. So fucking good and damn, when Clark decided to try
something new, he gave it his all. *Jesus Christ, * one touch and he knew he wouldn’t need
anything else, he was going to *come* from just this. Moved to wrap his fist around his
throbbing cock, but Clark caught both his hands behind his back in a tight grasp. He
yanked at the vice-like grip on his wrists, hoping Clark would relent. “Clark, I need ...”

Couldn’t talk, couldn’t fucking *speak* when Clark thrust deeper inside him and laughed,
*laughed* against his skin, then pulled back and nipped the flesh of his ass with a quick
bite. Lex bucked helplessly, thrusting into nothing but air, his brain and cock pleading for
contact with skin, sheets - fuck - *anything* because he needed *more.* Or Christ, maybe
he didn’t, maybe he could come just from this, from Clark’s tormenting him this way, if he
didn’t go mad first.

“You like that, Lex?” Clark’s open mouth soothed his stinging flesh before biting hard
again, and Lex’s eyes watered with the delirious pain. “Biting or licking - which do like
more?” Clark’s tongue dipped in to tease Lex’s spasming hole, and what the fuck was Clark
asking? Which one? Why the hell did he have to choose? “Clark, *please*...”

“Don’t even think about fighting me, Lex. We both know you’ll lose.” Clark’s free hand swept
possessively over the planes of his back and buttocks, twisting skin painfully between his
strong fingers, jolts of raw sensation that lashed at his painful erection. One arm snaked
around his neck, squeezing his throat hard, and Clark pulled him upright, his sweat-slick
back sliding against Clark’s chest, his still-trapped hands bumping on Clark’s hard cock.

“Or is that what you want?” Clark’s voice a low growl that made him quiver in anticipation
and trepidation, both. “It is, isn’t it? You want to lose. You want me to rip the pleasure
from you, force you to feel it. *That*’*s* what I think you need, Lex.”

The bones of his wrists ground together in Clark’s tight grip. The arm around his neck
slacked, smeared sweat across his chest, then disappeared, only to close powerfully on the
back of his neck, shoving him forward on the bed. There was nowhere to go but the wall
and his cheek hit the paint there with a loud slap. His mind was racing a thousand
directions at once. There was no way to know what Clark had in mind, but so far he couldn’t
complain. Clark was obviously having fun and hell, he’d play along just to see where this was
going.

Clark’s breath hot and moist in his ear as he whispered “Did you like that, Lex? Is this
what you bargained for?”

Turning his head, Lex laughed over his shoulder. “Fuck, yes, Clark. You’re so fucking hot
like this.” Hell if he was going to let Clark think his little mind games had him fazed.

“Yeah? Then you’re going to love this...”

Hard, tight press of Clark’s body against his back, sharp carvings of the wooden headboard
digging into his chest, and fuck, he couldn’t *move.* Not at all, not with Clark’s fingers
denting the flesh low on his neck, holding him easily in place. A brief, childish “not fair”
thought flew across his brain, leaving the corners of his mouth turned up in a grin. “You
know, Clark-“

Warm, flesh pressed over his nose and mouth and he mumbled another word before
stopping, knowing the effort would be lost behind the wall of Clark’s hand. Couldn’t speak
now, couldn’t resist whatever Clark was going to do. Clark’s mouth sucking high on the back
of his neck, marking him and fuck that was just... fuck, Clark *knew* better, knew that
wasn’t allowed. Marked for everyone, everyone with sight, to see.

The lips released his throat and licked across the bruised skin, across to linger just under
his ear. “You were right, Lex. I *am* enjoying myself.”

He knew this game intimately, had played it before, but not with Clark. The removal of
freedoms, one by one. First, freedom of movement. That was always first, always the
hardest for him to bear, the sweetest to fight for, fight against. The most incredibly high
feeling when he finally let go of the fear, let go and just gave himself up to whatever,
whoever was taking it from him.

He struggled, twisting a little against the painful hold on his neck, and Clark’s deep voice
rumbled against his ear again. “Give up, Lex. We both know you can’t get away.”

His mind raced with options and as his muscles worked futilely against a solid wall of flesh
behind him, each plan had to be crossed off as a failure. Sweat beaded on his face, slid
down and traced the edge of Clark’s fingers before falling to cool, wet on his chest. Liquid
proof of his effort and the physical manifestation of fear was the sexiest fucking thing
ever. He wanted to stretch down and lick it off of himself, taste what Clark was doing to
him, doing to his mind.

Asthma used to be his worst enemy, and now it was Clark’s hand closed tightly over his
face, denying him breath and words. Hot breath tickled his ear and brushed along his
cheek, taunting him, and Clark had to know what he was doing, had to know the breath on
Lex’s face just made him crave air more. So this was the *real* Clark Kent, or at least one
version.

Lex embraced the claustrophobia that burned in his chest. Claustrophobia? No. His lungs
were burning from the lack of oxygen, not fear. His head lightened gloriously and if Clark
hadn’t done this before, he couldn’t tell. Clark seemed eerily calm behind him, the hand
not holding him in place gently stroking his thigh in rhythmic lines, squeezing, kneading the
muscles there when they began to shake. Clark wasn’t holding his wrists, didn’t need to,
and Lex reached up and clutched at the headboard to steady himself. His muscles rebelled
and he cursed himself as he relaxed back into the solid form he knew wouldn’t let him fall.
Not even if he passed out and ruined the fun.

Desperation forced his lungs to work and he sucked hard against the hand on his face, nose
closing tight and teeth clamping down on the flesh of Clark’s palm when it didn’t give, didn’t
move. Body stinging from the deprivation, veins pulling, pulsing with the denial that Clark
seemed so eager to continue.

Couldn’t help but jump at the broken silence, the smug voice he didn’t know, didn’t
recognize, not even that close to his ear. “I never understood why you like having control
so much, Lex. Until now.”

Clark’s hand yanked back on his face and familiar, delicious pink lips moved to kiss him on
his temple. He strained to see the mouth he longed to kiss as Clark whispered. “I could kill
you right now. Take back the life I gave you. How’s that for control, Lex?”

Under the wave of irrational fear, Lex tried to swallow, his brain lashing out when he
realized he couldn’t even swallow without breath. He closed his eyes, willing calm, rational
thoughts to return to him. Clark would never hurt him, never let anything happen to him.
Not even with the ring. Clark *could* kill him, but he wouldn’t. Why would he? The ring
wasn’t supposed to change him, it was just supposed to give him the confidence to be the
person he couldn’t let himself be otherwise. The person that *took,* the person that could
let himself explore kinks like this. Harmless kinks, he reminded himself. Kinks like his own,
taking pleasure in pain and fear. He and Clark grew more alike with every breath he didn’t
take.

His body shook with the need to breathe, and his neck went slack, head laying heavily back
on Clark’s shoulder. He was losing the fight, losing the will to fight. Couldn’t grasp a
thought beyond the strangely-familiar feeling of drowning.

The hand on his thigh drifted slowly around, first cupping his balls gently, then wrapping
tightly around his half-hard cock, stroking steadily. Clark was rubbing his cock; was that
supposed to be reassuring? Maybe if he could *breathe* it would feel... fuck, it felt good
*anyway.* It felt incredible *because* he couldn’t breathe, because he couldn’t move,
couldn’t get away.

Clark’s hips moved away from his ass, then pumped hard into it, knocking him against the
wood, joints of the bed screaming in protest. Clark’s arm pressed painfully against his
hipbone, wedged between his stomach and the headboard, but the hand on his cock never
stopped pumping. Blood coursed through his body, pooling heavily under the gracious hand,
under the only thing Clark was allowing him now.

A wet swipe of Clark’s tongue over his ear, then hot breath too loud there, sending chills
down his spine. “Why won’t you let me fuck you, Lex?”

His eyes rolled heavily under their lids and he was falling, going under, succumbing to the
fate Clark would choose for him. Body leaving his mind behind and some numbly-aroused
part of him wanted to scream, wanted to break away and retaliate, wanted to sink down
onto the bed, off his aching thighs, draw in breath after breath and pound into Clark,
come deep inside him, shaking with orgasm instead of lack of oxygen. Would *kill* to be
able to talk and *threaten* and force something like this on Clark right now because hell,
turnabout was fair play.

A last pitiful smirk under the thick hand and he felt himself sliding into unconsciousness,
the hands moving from his face and cock, Clark’s arms curling under his own, lifting him,
propping him back up against the headboard. He raked air in without restraint, coming back
to a place he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to be again, wasn’t sure he wanted to ever leave.
Hoarse voice cutting the silence and it couldn’t be his, couldn’t be him because he could
barely think between gulping breaths. “Jesus... Clark...”

“Why, Lex?”

Why? Why the fuck *what*? Jesus, Clark wanted to *talk?* Fuck. Fine. He’d talk. “Why
what?”

Clark’s arms wrapped too tight around his chest, damn, his *chest* and he couldn’t draw a
full breath again now, maybe not ever at this rate. Clark’s teeth bit gently, tugging at his
earlobe. “Why won’t you let me fuck you?”

Christ, this was an old argument, one he didn’t have the patience or the breath to waste on
right now. His cock bobbed against the headboard, sweeping a wet streak on the wood.
They should be fucking, not arguing. Not tonight. Not after *that.*

Carefully filling his lungs, air like sweet wine and fresher than should be possible with sex
in the air, Lex pulled himself straight, summoning the dignity he’d had torn from him in a
wave of sexual sensory overload. “You know, Clark.”

Clark’s low chuckle made his skin crawl. “I know you said you didn’t like being fucked, but
you’ve never been fucked by me, Lex. I think you’d like me fucking you.”

Lex’s cock twitched against the headboard like it was listening to Clark and *liked* what it
was hearing and Christ, that was fucked up on so many levels. He dropped his head to look
at it, swollen and pressed tight between his stomach and the wood in front of him, and it
looked back, mocking him.

Couldn’t help but turn into the warm breath on his ear, biting his lower lip to silence the
words his cock was screaming. Closing his eyes against the temptation that churned his
stomach. “Drop it, Clark. It’s not going to happen.”

The arms circling his chest released him and he struggled to fill his lungs silently, deeply,
now that he could. Clark’s hands slid up his back, grasping his shoulders and holding him
still. A solid thigh forced his knees apart, the bed rocking as Clark moved to kneel between
them.

Clark’s chest pushed him forward, the heated flesh against his back a stark contrast to
the cool of the wood he was pinned against. Big hands reached around and clasped the
front of his legs, running up over them roughly. Fingers splayed out, palms flat against him,
like Clark was planning on touching every inch of his skin as the roaming hands slid up,
pulling him back away from the headboard. He was being explored, felt up, groped, and
that was fine. Anything was fine, as long as Clark’s hands kept moving, smoothing over his
belly, under his cock, up his sides, drawling huge, ticklish ovals over his chest. After
pawing everything he could reach, Clark finally relented, his touch gentling. Lex leaned
back heavily against him, eyes closing and head tilting back to offer his neck up to Clark’s
stroking fingers.

He gasped, didn’t have time to do anything but, as Clark’s chest peeled off his back and
the hands on his throat circled it in a loose threat. “I could take it from you, you know.”

Lex swallowed hard and hated himself for it, hated Clark’s hands for being witness to that
small concession. He opened his eyes, sobering from the dizzy-drunkenness of unreleased
sexual tension, straightening up, bracing his hands tightly on the headboard. Ready for
battle. “Yes. You could. But I’d think twice about that, Clark.”

A puff of air hit his neck as Clark scoffed. “Think twice, Lex? I think about it every day.”

Every day? Fuck. And this was Clark uninhibited. Telling him he wanted to fuck him,
spouting truths that Lex wasn’t prepared to deal with, at least not with a raging hard on, in
bed, on their anniversary.

Couldn’t just tell him to fuck off, couldn’t do that to Clark. To anyone else, yes, but not to
him, especially not when the ring *he*’*d* bought was eliciting all this anger. “It’s not going
to happen, Clark.”

“You can’t just give it to me, can you? And I know why.” Sarcastic voice sharp behind him
and he wanted to move, to look into hazel eyes and see his Clark, not this one, looking back
at him.

No challenges, no demands, no ring. Just Clark, simple and pure. Wouldn’t give *this* Clark
the satisfaction though, wouldn’t let Clark see what this was doing to him. And fuck,
holding one’s breath is not the way to hide fear. He exhaled slowly, his lungs still aching
from the divine torture of the night.

Ventured a move, tilting to one side, intending to pull a foot out from under himself and
push off the bed, but Clark’s hand warned him with a hard squeeze on his shoulder and he
felt capillaries break, blood heating his skin under the fingers. "I'm not the blind man in
your life, Lex. I know what your problem is - what he did to you."

He? Who? Stupid question. Lionel, of course. Clark thought this was Lionel’s fault, and this
night was going all kinds of unexpected places. Too incensed to trust himself to speak, Lex
looked up into eyes that held a darkness his lover's had never possessed.

“Fucked you over one too many times, hasn’t he, Lex?” Clark grabbed his hips and thrust
against them and Lex jerked away, blood boiling at the crude insinuation, fists clenching at
his sides. Any other man and his fist would be covered in blood by now, but punching Clark
would do no good anyway, even if he could bring himself to do it.

"Screwed you again and again, until everything in your life was about NOT getting screwed.
You could never just *give* someone that kind of power, could you?"

Clark didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about.

His father *had* taught him the importance of control – over oneself and others, but Lex
hadn’t really understood the danger inherent in yielding someone else control until-

Sharp sudden panic pooled heavy in his gut as his mind cautiously touched on the memory
that had to be avoided at all costs. Sixteen and stupid, he’d thought he was in love. A teacher,
a confidant - a pretty, wild young *man* with lying eyes that Lex hadn’t seen until it was
too late.

He shook his head in mute denial, but the old humiliation was on him, crashing through the
fissure Clark had opened. He felt his face heating with the shame of it, of letting himself
be taken and used.

He’d done everything, everything he’d been told to do. Sucked, fucked, whipped,
humiliated. Him. Lex Luthor, on his knees, on his back, tied down, *gagged.* A foggy daze
of pain and pleasure and he’d let it happen - had let himself be *used.* Had *begged* for
more, desperately willing it to be something he wanted because his lover wanted it. The
sex, the humiliation, all of it had been a whirlwind of concession, a production in which he’d
played the subservient role his father had taught him to despise.

Lex had given *that* man everything. His gifts, his emotions, his body.

And for all his gifts, he’d gotten the gift of humility in return. He’d been made a fool of.
Manipulated into buying ever more expensive trinkets that were displayed like trophies in
the city’s nightclubs and private rooms. All the while his lover had been spilling loathsome
tales of Lex’s childhood, his kinks and, most demeaning of all, his vulnerability. The stories
of his childhood had been heavily embellished for dramatic effect, to twist the knife that
much deeper, Lex supposed. The kinks and the vulnerability hadn’t needed elaboration.
The day he’d found out about the betrayal, Lex had gotten his first glimpse of the real
world, the world where no one ever gets what they need.

He’d learned a lesson then that he didn’t need to be taught twice. He’d naively imagined
that letting himself be fucked was about trust, and… maybe more, but it wasn’t.

Fucking wasn’t about *love.* It was about power.

Now Clark wanted the power. *More* power. Because, Christ, Lex could admit it to
himself – Clark already held more power over him than anyone else ever had.

So, yeah, he’d keep his comfort zone, his barriers, his fucking walls that would stay up no
matter who was knocking on the other side. Battering ram or bloody knuckles, he wouldn’t
let them in.

His sweaty palms slid on the headboard and he needed to move, needed to get the fuck
away from one more person who would never, ever understand.

Clark’s hands traced down from his throat, over his chest, the fingers of one hand digging
into his ribs while the others closed around his half-hard cock and started pumping again.
Arousal surged through Lex and he fought back a moan, tensed his legs and tried to keep
his body from reacting to the pleasure that rippled through it. “Clark, stop. I don’t-“

Clark’s voice rumbled against his ear and Lex struggled to keep his eyes open, to focus on
staying alert. “Shh. Just let me do this, Lex. Let me show you it doesn’t have to be that
way. Let me erase what he did to you.”

Three years of Luthor corruption and Clark was still schoolboy naive. Lex shook his head
and scoffed over his shoulder. “You have no fucking clue, Clark.”

The hand on his cock twisted hard and he bucked into it. Blood rushed from his head to his
cock as Clark whispered into his ear. “I have no clue? Whose fault is *that*? Tell me what
happened, Lex. Tell me *something.*”

Panting breaths stung in Lex’s chest, lungs bruised deep inside, muscles aching from the
rollercoaster of arousal and pain, from the strain of trying to control this.

Control *this.* This situation *he*’*d* created. Clark hadn’t wanted this, hadn’t wanted
*control.* Clark wanted *him,* not power over him. He opened his mouth but couldn’t find
the words, didn’t know where to start.

Clark’s fingers curled tighter on his side and Lex felt the tension flow from his body. They
rocked together, moving in tandem with the hand on his cock. Foggy awareness dulled the
words Clark was whispering low in his ear and he strained to pull himself from the haze. He
wanted to hear every word.

“Whoever he was, whoever did this to you, I’m not him...”

Lex sank back, thighs exhausted and shaking, his ass pressing down against Clark’s lap.
Clark’s arousal painted a cool streak across the small of his back, sending a jolt of
anticipation straight to his cock.

A moan vibrated against his scalp and he closed his eyes, let himself drift between the
pseudo-reality of Clark hard behind him and the rhythmic heat pumping his cock,
quickening his heart.

Clark whispered low in his ear, the words echoing in his brain before he could understand
them, before he froze and his eyes shot open. “I’m not him, Lex, but I can be. If that’s
what it takes.”

The comforter rose up fast to meet his back and his body bounced twice before Clark was
on top of him, between his thighs and Lex would never, ever get used to being *moved.*
"Clark, take it easy. I'm not going anywhere."

"No, you're not. You're staying right where I want you."

Wet heat *finally,* tightly closing around his cock and he couldn’t do anything but buck up
into the soft mouth, his cock pulsing with every nudge against Clark's throat. Breath hot
against his stomach and this, *this* is his reward for everything he's endured tonight.
"God yes, Clark. Don't stop."

Floating on a river of sensation, moving fast towards oblivion, finally close to arriving at his
destination, and then it was gone, Clark's mouth *gone* and he thought he might scream
from the frustration, the agony, the cruelty Clark was inflicting on him.

Clark's mouth *not* sucking him, not anywhere near him now and, hadn't Clark heard him?
He was sure he'd said '*Don*'*t* stop.' Hands curling futilely over Clark’s shoulders,
hoping he wouldn't raise up further but he did and fuck, this was way beyond torture.

Clark's expression detached, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Anything you say, Lex, but
you know that already, don't you?"

Lex dropped his head back on the pillows and wondered again what he'd gotten himself
into. Deep, cleansing breathes, and what he really needed was half a bottle of single malt,
but this smug fucking cocktease probably wouldn't let him leave the bed. “Christ, Clark.
Let me come... please.”

Apparently this night is all about Clark. Fuck. What was it with beautiful young men
wanting to hear Luthors beg?

Fine.

Bracing his arms flat on the bed, Lex arched up, lifting his hips high off the bed, thrusting,
bumping his cock against Clark's lips, leaving a wet trail behind. Was that obvious enough?
How about some words? "Christ, Clark. Need you. Fuck, I'm *so* close."

Clark smiled in response to his urgency and wrapped one large hand around his throbbing
cock, jacking him far too slowly to bring anything resembling relief, reaching forward and
pushing fingers into his mouth. Lex sucked enthusiastically for one brief moment before he
spat the fingers out, threw his head back on the pillow and lifted his hips in an obvious
demand for satisfaction.

Clark pushed a finger inside him on a moan and Lex bucked up into the tight fist. “What
would it take, Lex?”

Lex pressed his head back into the pillow for leverage and fucked himself on Clark's
finger, body arching, cock leaking in the beautifully slick tunnel of Clark's hand. "That's...
Yes, fuck, Clark, that's *all* it'll take. Just don't stop. Christ... don't stop."

A second thick, rough finger slipped inside him, and his body screamed for the release that
shouldn't be this far away. The hand on his cock squeezed him too tightly, not *letting*
him come and this *wasn*'*t* happening.

"You can't keep me at a distance anymore, Lex.”

Clark was *still* talking? Fucking insane, both of them this hard, this close and Clark
expected him to think, to have a fucking *conversation* right now? The fingers scissored
inside him, stretching muscles that clenched with the need for something, anything more.
Lex's hips fell hard to the bed and he wadded the blanket beneath him in his fists.
"What... whatever this is... can we just talk about it later? Please?!"

Clark scoffed and that was *not* a good sign. Lex was sure the hand on his cock tightened
but Clark still wasn't jacking him, wasn't giving him anything but - Christ - another finger
fucking him, burning in beside the first two.

“No, Lex. We can't. This is it.”

Lex struggled to wrap his mind around Clark's words - *it*? *What*? Near impossible to
think with fingers rubbing raw along his prostate, flashes like roman candles burning
behind his eyes, body twisting with his unconscious plea. “What? Clark - what the Hell?”

Lex raised his head, stomach muscles tightening with the effort to see, and watched as
Clark’s head lowered, chin digging into his stomach, breath caressing over his skin in a
twisted, comforting way as Clark spoke. "You heard me, Lex. This is it. I’m leaving in the
morning. I'm sick of waiting for you to give me as much as I give you." Lex opened his
mouth, wiped at his eyes in an effort to clear the scene, to make sense of the words.

Clark was smiling up at him, a sharp, confident and patronizing tone in his voice. "Poor little
rich kid with the asshole father and the dead mother. It's bullshit, Lex. If you were
capable of loving me, it might be different."

And fuck, those words - *those* words were coming from Clark. *His* Clark. From the
mouth he'd kissed a hundred thousand times, the mouth that opened, sliding over his cock,
working his shaft, sucking him in.

Scorching wetness pulling him down, sparking fires through his hyper-sensitized body.
Clark's fingers fucking him and all he had to do was thrust down Clark's throat and he'd
*be there*, but Lex felt *sick*.

This wasn't right, this wasn't *Clark*; it couldn't be. Lex’s body still strained for
completion, but somehow his mind disconnected, the pain of physical denial a rapidly fading
memory.

Clark knew how he felt, he had to because... because he just *had* to. Clark should God
damned well know how he felt by now, but he’d say it, he’d hold Clark’s hand if he had to.
”Clark, I do.”

The warm sheath of Clark's mouth slid up and off and Lex shouldn't care, *didn*'*t* care
because Clark was laughing, biting his stomach with sharp teeth and *laughing* like this
was a joke.

Clark knelt up, fingers pushing in hard enough to *hurt*, far enough to reach his spine
maybe and Clark's face changed. Anger like it was wiped on the gorgeous features and that
fast, the joke was over. "You can't even say it. Three years and you've never fucking said
it."

“Clark, you know-“

Hard gleaming eyes and curling lips answered him, “I know you'll never let me inside.”

That's what this whole night had been about then. And Lex thought it'd been about
fucking, wished now that's all it had been about. Wished it desperately, because Clark
already had everything he could give.

The truth knotted his tongue but he forced it out, praying it was what Clark wanted to
hear. “You're more inside than anyone.”

The fingers inside him thrust harder and a soft lick slid across the head of his cock,
catching his liquid frustration, lapping it up. Clark’s cold gaze locked on his eyes and Lex
willed the eyes to thaw, the thrusting in his ass to gentle.

“You’re pathetic, Lex.”

His brain stuck on the words like a scratched record and all he could think was the name,
the name of the man he knew, the man he mourned the loss of. This wasn’t his...

"Clark."

The long, golden body kneeling between his legs was Clark's, but everything else was
foreign to him.

Faint menace in a cool regard, fingers pulling out of him too fast. An unmistakable
command in the hand that pressed into his solar plexus, holding him immobile while Clark
reached into the nightstand, and Lex’s tongue couldn't wrap around a single one of the
million or so thoughts that flew through his brain. Limbs numb with the shock of seeing...

This. Clark slicking his own cock, grinning down at him with cold eyes. Lex rolled his head in
mute denial, closing his eyes against the possibility. Clark wouldn't do this.

“I could break you, Lex.”

His eyes flew open, cock jumping in response to the reality before him. Clark’s huge, wet
hand wrapping around his own cock, the other moving between Lex’s own legs, fingers
working, pushing back inside the emptiness the errant hand left behind.

Lex managed to lift a shaky hand to Clark’s chest. Clark stilled and Lex took a deep
breath. He was still in control and he could *handle* this. “Wait. Listen to me, Clark. We
need to talk. I want you to take the ring off for a minute.”

Clark’s eyes narrowed down at him and Lex’s hand slid down the sweaty chest as it moved.
The bed tilted and Clark was kneeling between his thighs, stroking himself, fingers
massaging deeper inside.

Christ. *Preparing* him.

"I could break you, Lex. It might take a while, but I could."

The room blurred and Lex fought for breath. Had to remain *calm,* had to remember that
Clark wasn’t thinking straight. He stopped the dizzying shake of his head long enough to
push up on his elbows. Shifted his feet, in some semblance of an effort to slide off of
Clark’s fingers a little, but they crooked, hooking into him, hitting the white-lightening
spot, leveling him from toes to scalp. His body screamed against the commands his mind
was blurting out. No way he could ignore the electric shock of pleasure, no matter how
hard he tried.

He cried out, cock jetting slick arousal, *not* making his case. Perspiration stung his eyes,
and he panted with need. With fear, and *fuck.* Clark was *getting off* on this.

Solid muscle and flesh, unearthly strength holding still above him, waiting for him to come
back around, and Lex shook his head sharply, willing his brain to clear of the hazy
realization of what Clark was doing to him. Not breaking him. *Taking* him.

Clark shooting him a sly grin from under a sweat soaked tousle of hair. “How 'bout it, Lex?
Are you *game?*”

Couldn’t, *wouldn’t* fall into the eyes that taunted him, wouldn’t surrender to the fingers
pushing, pulling the pleasure from him, the slide of tan skin low across his belly. “Stop,
Clark.”

Sweat splattered his chest and face as Clark shook his head fast. "No. I think deep down
you really want this, Lex, and I'm going to give it to you."

Lex blinked hard, his chest tight with the effort to just. Remain. Calm. "Clark, I said
stop."

"And I said *no.* Call it a going away present." Clark’s fingers slid out of him slowly and his
ass tightened around the sudden nothingness that filled him. His mind fought against the
current of yearning, grasping for the ability to reason, the will to challenge Clark as the
legs between his pushed his thighs apart. His feet were lifted off the bed as unforgiving
hands hooked under his knees, moving his weak legs up until they circled Clark’s hips.

This was *not* going to happen.

Clark’s body moved down, covering his own and now all of it, the stomach crushing his cock,
the breath on his neck, the slick head of Clark’s cock slipping between his legs, every
fucking *touch* was making him rage. Strength tore through his limbs and he pushed,
*shoved* against the *body* that was so close to taking what he’d never even considered
giving before. “Stop, Clark. You are *not* leaving me. This isn't you, it’s the God damned
ring. Get the fuck off of me and take. It. Off.”

"That's the thing, Lex, this *is* me. I just didn't have the guts to say these things
before." Lex took the full weight of the sweat-slick body pressing him into the mattress.
Clark easily subdued him, stretching both his arms above his head, but Lex struggled under
the restraint, unwilling to yield.

“Shh, Lex,” Clark murmured, lapping sweat from his temples, his brow, his throat, easing
his panic but not his anger. Clark's hips moved, cock nudging deep between his legs “Don't
fight me.”

And he couldn’t fight, could barely move or think or feel any of this because his brain was
shorting out. Arms pinned over his head, hips trapped under the weight of Clark. There was
nothing left to do but wait for him to play this out. Clark's lush mouth moved on his, tongue
teasing into his mouth when he tried to turn away.

He gulped in breath when Clark’s mouth released his, caught his breath and managed a
hoarse, choked-out laugh, “Jesus Clark, are you really this unhappy with me?”

Clark’s hand crushed his arms into the mattress above their heads as he rose up to look
down at him. "I won't be happy until you give me everything. I want all of you, Lex, not just
the things you choose to give me."

Hipbones dug into his thighs as Clark shifted down, and one hand stretched around his
forearms, pinning them there. The other hand moved down, rubbing over his stomach as
Clark reached between their legs to. *Fuck.*

Position his cock.

Lex frantically shifted his hips, and fuck, that just made it *worse* because Clark’s cock
slid along his ass, slick enthusiasm swiping across his balls and Christ, it felt so *good.*

Cock aching again despite his fear, his anger. Maybe *because* of it. He wouldn’t give in to
this. Couldn’t let Clark *take* this from him. "Clark, you know I don't work that way.
You've known that from the beginning."

The blunt head of Clark's cock was right *there*.

"I've earned this, Lex. I've earned all of you."

Earned it. Fucking *earned* it.

So Clark thought he’d paid his dues, and now he wanted *in*? Lex’s breath caught in his
chest as Clark glared down at him, but the fierce look in the foreign eyes of this altered,
demanding Clark...

Lied.

Lex *felt* the lie in the telltale thumb stroking lightly on his still-trapped wrist, in the
hesitation of the cock against his ass. This had nothing to do with the union of their
bodies.

The realization crashed like a wave of cold water on his body, like raging flames consuming
him from feet to scalp.

*Earned it.*

And Clark had. More than anyone ever. Clark had paid his dues every day, with love and
patience. Shared every burden Lex had endured and had always been willing, ready to
share more. Share *everything.*

Clark had given himself to Lex long ago, made concession after concession. Played the part
of best friend everywhere but here in the penthouse and never asked for anything in
return. Except Lex.

He’d been denying Clark the only thing he'd ever asked for. Himself.

Out of fear.

Fear of getting fucked, of letting anybody, even Clark get that close.

Jesus, how could he have been so blind? He wanted to give Clark the world, and all Clark
wanted was to get inside him, was literally about to force his way inside as a consolation
for the intimacy he truly craved.

Clark's hand tightened around his wrists, a cold flash of panic yanking Lex from his
thoughts and Clark was pressing into him. This was something Lex needed to *give,* had to
find a way to be able to give it or... *fuck*.

*No.* It couldn’t happen like this. “Clark, wait a minute. Just...just give me a minute.”

His mind racing, Lex squeezed his thighs together, trying to buy some time and Clark
wriggled down, forcing them open again, the head of his cock pressing hard against Lex’s
clenched ass.

Clark’s voice vibrated deep in his chest, edged with the struggle to push inside. “Haven't
you been listening? I'm through waiting Lex.” The hand between their legs brushed under
Lex’s thigh then clasped hard, squeezing the tendons on the back of his knee as his leg was
lifted into the air.

Desperation taking over and he didn’t care if he was begging anymore. This had to stop
before it was too late. Before any real damage was done. "No, no... Clark I can do this..
just... I have to think."

"Stop thinking, Lex. I want you to feel this."

“I love you, Clark.”

The words burned in Lex’s throat. Truth stung his eyes. Body, mind and heart full,
overflowing with the release of denied emotion. Overcome with the need to give.

Everything.

“Take off the ring.”

The first electric twinge of pain took his breath away as Clark pushed against him
insistently.

“*Please,* Clark. Don’t do this. *I love you.*”

The heavy body stilled on top of him. Dark curls brushed Lex’s skin as Clark lifted his head
to search his eyes, his face etched with uncertainty and disbelief.

Lex’s wrists stung with the blood that rushed to his fingers as Clark released his arms.
Sweat and sex, relief and gratitude hung between them for a long moment before the bed
rocked and shook with the motions of Clark tugging the ring from his finger and dropping it
over the side of the bed. It rang there, circling, the chime of it spinning on the wooden
floor echoing through the room.

Clark settled back over him, propped up on elbows on either side of Lex’s head, eyes closed
and head shaking slightly, face pained and twisted. Their chests heaved against each
other, the almost-taken advantage frozen in time, held in place between Lex’s legs. Clark’s
head fell to his shoulder, flushed face heating the skin there. Shaking, sobbing, and the
slight movements of Clark’s regret seemed like earthquakes under his hands.

Clark’s heated, moist breath burned against his neck. Soft hair ghosted against the raw
skin of his wrist as he reached up to stroke, hoping to quiet the sobs. Wrapping his legs
around Clark’s hips, his arms around the rippling back, he held Clark there, as close as he
could, tight enough for maybe even Clark to feel secure. The silence magnified everything,
and his painfully exhausted brain could only think of one thing.

Making this better.

The breeze of his whisper fluttered through Clark’s hair. "Shhh, it's okay, Clark. It's
okay.”

“Oh, God, Lex. I’m so sorry.” Clark’s head shook against his shoulder and he raised up,
started to pull away.

No. *No.* Lex couldn’t lose this chance, couldn’t let Clark go one more minute believing he
wasn’t *everything* to Lex.

Emotions Lex had let go unacknowledged for so long flooded like relief through his mind,
but he couldn’t express them. Words were meaningless now, anyway. Words were too-easy
gifts they had the rest of their lives to give each other. But this moment, this precious
epiphany, this experience. This was the one thing Lex could give to Clark only once.

Lex spread his hands on Clark’s hips and pulled him closer, urging him to complete his quest,
the meaning behind it beautifully altered. “Please, Clark. I want you inside me.”

Pure Clark, deceptively innocent and beautiful with teeth biting his lower lip and eyebrows
furrowing. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Silence hung between them, broken only by Clark’s low whisper against his ear. “I love you,
Lex. I love you so much.”

For the first time, he had a complete understanding of what that meant, what Clark had
been trying to tell him all these years. His breath hitched for a moment and the spell was
broken.

Clark slipped inside. Sweet, sharp burn, like an inoculation against soul sickness and Clark’s
heavy, slack body pressed him into the mattress, holding motionless, their bodies
adjusting, molding together. Hair tickled Lex’s bare skin, thighs, stomach, ear, everywhere
it touched as Clark trembled against him.

Clark’s lips parted against his shoulder and Lex felt the gasp instead of hearing it. Rocked
up again and tensed his aching hips, holding the small arch as he breathed the words into
Clark’s ear. "I love you, Clark."

Clark’s cock responded to his words, jumping inside him, swelling, spreading, stretching him,
filling him fuller. The movement inside him exquisite, a shock of pleasure against his spine.
The duality of seduction, body and mind, melded into one for the first time in Lex’s life
and he rolled his hips up, taking Clark deeper.

The vibration of Clark’s moan sent chills over Lex’s body and Clark began to rock gently
against him, soft, warm skin smoothing against Lex’s chest with every hesitant motion.

Slow, steady slide of Clark’s body rubbing along his and it had never been this way, never
been a complete release of himself, a complete taking of another soul into his own. His
mind spiraled down, thoughts pooling at the source of the pleasure.

Clark.

Inside him.

Easy, gentle rhythm building into a heartbeat as his hand tangled in the mane of hair he
wanted to inhale.

Gently tugging the hair in his fist, Lex urged the hot mouth on his shoulder to peel away.
The hazel eyes he’d never really seen until *right now* dripped tears onto his own cheeks
and the lips he’d tasted so many times, thousands of times, were so much sweeter as they
touched his own for the first time, the first time Clark was *inside*.

Slow salty kisses that became more urgent, tongues meeting and mingling, thrusting slick
against the other in counterpoint to the wet heat below, the slow slide of their bodies. A
faint whisper tickled against his ear when the mouth slid from his lips, down his cheek.
“I'm so sorry.”

Clark’s face *belonged* in his hands, and he fought the urge to pull it down, reclaim Clark’s
mouth. Few things seemed more important than them kissing, connecting everywhere right
now, but this was one of them. His thumbs swept the regret from Clark’s cheeks, eyes
holding the emerald pearls in a steady gaze just in case Clark was too overwhelmed to
concentrate. "Don't ever say that to me again."

"But-"

“No. We needed this." Lex marveled as his hands felt Clark’s skin anew, thumbs rubbing
down over Clark’s jaw-line and throat, fingers curling over corded muscles at his shoulders,
hands roaming down to pull Clark deeper as he rocked up with his hips. "*I* needed this."

A deep breath pressed his chest and belly tight against Clark’s and he wanted to take the
time, to notice every subtle nuance, every shift of muscle under dewy skin as his fingertips
slid down over Clark’s back, up the backs of his arms. Learning Clark like this, learning
*himself* like this. Closed his eyes and started over again, letting the memories of Clark’s
body flow from his mind, replacing them with newly-discovered sensations, movements.

Clark’s hipbones brushed against his own as Lex raised his hips to meet each gentle thrust.

Slow motion.

The silky skin and downy hair of their stomachs contrasted, rubbing along his cock as they
moved together and pulled apart again and again. Every push inside was ecstasy, the
bittersweet gift of Clark’s virgin encounter with this new sensation; every pull out the
promise of another moment when they would find each other, become one over and over.

Clark’s teeth nibbled his shoulder and grazed across a circle of bruised flesh, stopping to
suck gently in apology when Lex moaned under the contact. Lex’s cock strained between
their bodies, begging for the touch of something more substantial than the soft flesh of
their stomachs. Lex lifted his hips, legs locking around Clark’s waist, back arching down
into the mattress, Clark sliding deeper still.

Clark propped up, one hand close by his ribs, the other damp and gentle, sliding between
them, brushing along Lex’s side and chest on its way down. Fingers sheathed his cock and
pumped in tandem with their thrusts, Clark’s thumb slipping across the tip once, twice.

Their labored breathing left no room for assurances of love, but Clark’s eyes shone in a
way Lex had never seen before. They mirrored his own love, reflecting it between them in
a thousand receding images.

White pleasure coursed through his veins, tensing muscles, pulling movement from them
without consent or consultation and Lex gave himself up to it, arching and stretching,
shaking and shivering around the gentle thrusts. Clark’s free hand slid up underneath him,
tightening on his shoulder and holding him close as he cried out Clark’s name again and
again.

Forced grunts of effort above him and no, no, they’re not finished. This wouldn’t end with
him, not this time. *His* Clark was back, forever changed perhaps, but timid even now.
Even after three years, although that didn’t really seem to apply now. Maybe they would
start their calendar over with tonight.

He didn’t want Clark rushing through this. It was a night of firsts; that was true for both
of them. “Shhh. Relax, Clark. Take it... take your time.”

Rocking a steady, slow rhythm into him, Clark slid both arms around his neck. Lex closed
his eyes and breathed in the hair that fell across his nose and lips as Clark cuddled close,
so close that Lex felt hard nipples brushing his chest. Aftershocks of almost too-soon
touches jolted through him with every thrust of Clark’s hips. Liquid, soft glide of Clark’s
cock inside him, pace quickening with Clark’s breath, muscles working under Lex’s hands.

He clutched at the small of Clark’s back, then dared the pain of deepest penetration and
lifted his hips, cupped Clark’s ass in his hands and squeezed hard, pulling him further inside
than he’d thought possible. Clark's face was buried in his shoulder, his breath held and
head shaking back and forth like he was trying to deny this, even now.

Lex’s moan echoed through the room, loud even in his own ears. “Shh, Clark. God, I love you. I love you.”

The ragged sounds of release filled the room as Clark came in hard waves against him. Lex
held fast, kept him deep inside until Clark settled heavily down, back flattening and chest
heaving.

Lex released his grip and smoothed his hands over the sweat-slick skin of Clark’s back, lips
kissing, nudging Clark’s face until a warm mouth met his and a tongue slid inside. A small
slip between his legs startled him and his hands slid quickly back to Clark’s hips, holding
him in place. Necessary torture to break the kiss because the other connection they
shared meant everything now. "No, don't leave me."

*Never, never leave me.*

“Never, Lex.”


~ FINIS ~

 

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