Archive of Our Own

The crowd milling around outside the opera house is dwindling fast, everyone hopping into cabs or walking quickly away, heads ducked and scarves wrapped around their chins.

Chloe and Lois are hugging themselves and shivering. “I’d love to stay and chat, guys,” Lois says through chattering teeth, “but it is way too cold out here. Who wants to share a cab?”

“We live in opposite directions, Lois,” Chloe says. “You go, I’ll be okay.”

Clark tips his head towards Chloe. “I’m crashing at her place.”

“Great,” Lois says, hopping into one of the taxis and slamming the door. The car is screeching off down the street by the time Clark remembers to wave.

“Well that was fun!” Chloe exclaims, clapping her gloved hands together with satisfaction.

“Yeah.” Although the truth is, opera isn’t really Clark’s thing and this one went on for what seemed like hours. He looks at his watch. Oh right. The singing was pretty good although it might have been easier to stay focused on what was going on if he’d understood what they were saying.

Not that it wasn’t nice going out in Metropolis, and seeing as Lois had scored the tickets for free, and he’d been the first choice for the third ticket, it would have been rude to decline. He suspects Chloe had insisted on inviting Clark; she’s been trying to distract him from moping about Lana for weeks.

“Are you really crashing at my place?” Chloe asks him with a frown.

He smiles and shakes his head. “No. I’m gonna head home, but I couldn’t exactly tell Lois that.” Not that she would have questioned him. Lois never even notices the weird stuff he does, which is both a relief and deeply annoying.

“Okay, well, I hate to love you and leave you, Clark, but not all of us are immune to the cold and I’m dying here.” She reaches up, wraps her arms around his neck and Clark pulls her into a hug.

A minute later her cab pulls away and Clark finds himself alone on the footpath, enjoying the chill and contemplating the run home.

He stands there, stationary, staring up at the sky, waiting for that first snow flake to fall which he’s certain is going to happen any second now.

“Clark,” a familiar voice calls from behind. He turns around and squints over at Lex, wandering towards him.

Shoot. He’d forgotten Lex had been at the opera too. Sitting up in one of the fancy boxes next to the circle, with a stunningly beautiful Asian woman on his left, wearing a black dress so tight it looked painted on, and a scowl to match. She’s not with Lex now, which is strange, because Clark hadn’t seen her leave.

Lex is smirking at Clark in an irritating manner. “What are you doing out here all alone?” he asks.

“I’m just about to head home,” Clark replies, then instantly regrets it.

“Aha,” Lex nods. “To Smallville?”

Dammit. “Yeah, I’m gonna…” What are you gonna do, Clark? “…take the bus.”

Lex looks at his watch and stares at the face of it. “It’s eleven thirty, Clark. I doubt there are any buses going to Smallville at this hour.”

“Oh really?” Clark says in surprise. “I didn’t realize it was so late.” He really needs to get rid of Lex somehow.

Lex tilts his head to the side with a sympathetic sigh. “Yeah.”

“Well, I guess I’ll—”

“I could give you a lift if you like,” Lex interrupts. “I am going that way.”

Clark quickly shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. I can just stay at Chloe’s.” Actually, you can leave me alone and I can run home, Clark thinks behind his pasted on smile.

“Really, it’s no trouble.” At that moment the valet slips the car keys into Lex’s hand and Lex strolls over to the car Clark hadn’t even noticed pulling up. Lex opens the door on the passenger side—ooh, it’s the Ferrari—and nods his head towards the car with a smug smile. “And you don’t have to worry about being cold. This baby has excellent heating.”

Clark stares at the open door and wonders if there’s any way for him to get out of this without being rude.

“I…”

“Come on!” Lex shouts, leaving the door open and walking around the car to the driver’s side. “You must be freezing your ass off out here!”

If only Clark hadn’t dawdled he’d be home by now, dammit. Now he has to suffer a two hour car drive with Lex, who is acting like an ass and who he has absolutely nothing to say to.

He gets into the car, scowling.

“Oh cheer up,” Lex says. “I’m a fast driver. We’ll be home in no time.”

Once they’re on the road it starts to snow pretty heavily, which Clark takes as a bad sign. Awful weather conditions and a reckless driver is not a great combination, and although Clark knows he can save them both when Lex inevitably skids off the road and drives headlong into a tree, he doesn’t particularly want to have to come up with an excuse for yet another “miracle” tonight, let alone have to suffer Lex’s gloating about how he “always knew there was something different" about him.

To take his mind off things he decides to make conversation. “What happened to your date?”

“She was feeling unwell; left in the middle of the third act.”

“Oh.”

They fall silent again, which Lex seems perfectly comfortable with, much to Clark’s irritation. He has no idea how Lex can see anything out there it’s snowing so hard.

“Can you even see?”

Lex doesn’t answer at first although he is slowing his driving speed down in subtle increments. “Not really,” he mutters.

Clark whips his head around and looks at Lex with his eyebrows raised as high as they’ll go.

“I’d hoped we’d miss the storm, but—”

“But what?” Clark squawks.

Lex clears his throat. “Nothing. I’m sure we’ll make it. Just might take a little longer than anticipated.”

What does he mean he’s sure they’ll make it? That implies there’s a possibility they won’t.

The car swerves suddenly to the left and it makes Lex curse under his breath. When he gets them back on track he smiles at Clark. “Whoops,” he says.

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“Of course not. It was the wind.” And then, as if he’s trying to drown out Clark’s questions, he turns up the stereo and focuses his attention back on the road.

A few minutes later, Clark speaks again. “I know this song.”

“It’s an aria, not a song, and you should do. It’s ‘Addio del passato’.”

Clark frowns in confusion.

“From La Traviata,” Lex explains, as if Clark is stupid.

Oh. That was the opera they’d just been to. No wonder it sounds familiar.

“It sounds different,” he says anyway.

“That’s because this recording is of a different singer, Clark.”

Whatever, Clark thinks.

Lex is driving at about ten miles an hour now, and Clark is starting to think they'll never make it back to Smallville.

It’s possible fate actually does have a sense of humor, because at that precise moment they pass a small hotel, its pink neon vacancy sign blinking at them from the side of the road. Both turn their heads and gaze at the hotel as the car crawls past. It’s an old, three story house that looks like it’ll be lucky to survive the storm.

No way. There is no way they are staying at a creepy hotel in the middle of Kansas countryside, when Clark could be at home in seconds, sitting in front of a warm fire, reading his book and drinking hot cocoa. No. Way.

Lex steps on the brake, pulls the car to a stop, and turns to look at Clark.

“No way,” Clark tells him.

“We don’t have a choice. We’ll never make it back in this weather. Look!” He points outside with an upturned palm but keeps his unblinking eyes fixed on Clark’s face.

Clark kind of wants to accuse Lex of planning this, but instead he sighs in defeat. “Fine.” Lex lays his arm on the back of Clark’s seat, twists his body around and begins to reverse the car. “But you’re paying,” he mutters, not really meaning it.

Lex just rolls his eyes.

Outside the weather is dire, so they both jog through the wind and snow to get to the front door, and once they’re inside they slam the door behind them with some help from the wind.

It’s a small, warm, dimly lit foyer, with the strangest looking lady Clark has ever seen sitting behind the reception desk, beaming at them as they approach.

“Did you get caught in the snow, boys?” she hollers, and her voice is so high-pitched and piercing Clark stops in his tracks and reels back.

She has pink hair. Piled on top of her head in giant, shiny curls, not a strand out of place.

“Yes,” Lex says. “We’d like two rooms please.”

That’s a lot of blue eye shadow for one person to be wearing, and those are unnaturally long eyelashes. Her enormous yellow teeth are protruding from her mouth in what Clark assumes is supposed to be a smile, and they’re smeared with hot pink lipstick.

“Oh my Lord,” she says, looking unsettled. She takes a quick, deep, probably comforting drag on her cigarette, then blows out three perfect smoke rings in a row before exhaling what’s left in her lungs into a huge cloud that settles in front of Lex’s face. “You know, dear, if you had arrived ten minutes earlier I would have been able to grant that particular request, but I’m afraid…” She stops and spins around in her chair, then rolls away from the desk towards the wall behind her.

“What are we supposed to do?” Lex demands, waving his hand in front of himself frantically in an attempt to disperse the smoke cloud. “Sleep in the car? Why the hell is your vacancy sign still lit up if you’re out of rooms?”

She takes something off the wall then glides back to the desk, holding a giant wooden square with the number 301 on it, and a key attached to it.

“You’ll have to share a room,” she says, dangling the key at Lex and looking pleased with herself. “Sorry.” She doesn’t sound or look sorry. “But don’t worry, it’s got a double bed in it!”

Hold on. What?

“The heating’s been on all day so it should be real cozy in there by now.”

“Fine.” Lex snatches the key out of her hand and turns on his heel, heading for the stairs.

“What?” Clark says to the pink desk lady, who can stop smiling at him like that any time she wants.

“You boys have fun,” she says with a demure wave.

She’s got to be at least a hundred years old.

Clark spins round and says “What?” to the back of Lex’s head, then he looks back at the woman, back at Lex—who is now clutching the bottom of the banister and frowning at him—then back at the woman again. “You don’t have another room? We have to share a room?”

“Hurry up,” Lex snaps. “Stop being such a baby.”

Clark turns back to him, gaping. “I can sleep in the car,” he offers, a little hysterical.

“Great. See you in the morning.” Lex turns around and disappears up the stairs.

Clark is alone with the pink lady, and has nowhere to go but the car. Or Room #301.

Or home.

There’s always home, he thinks wistfully.

“You can stay in my room if you want, sweetie,” he hears the woman purr behind him.

A second later he’s bounding up the stairs behind Lex, hating himself for not figuring out a good excuse to not be there in the morning.

He could be at home. Like, an hour ago.

Why the hell did he dawdle?

“I see you had second thoughts about your sleeping arrangements,” Lex quips over his shoulder without turning around.

“It would have been too cold to sleep in the car,” Clark lies, brilliantly. Except Lex’s response is a jolly laugh, which makes Clark grit his teeth and wonder why the hell he even bothers with the pretense of being normal anymore, when some people can’t be bothered pretending they believe him.

The room is bigger than Clark was expecting, and oddly gaudy, with red and green wallpaper and a frayed red quilt with a gold leaf print lying on top of the lopsided bed. A rickety old wooden wardrobe sits in one corner and the desk sitting opposite the bed looks like it can barely take the weight of the television sitting on top of it. The carpet is thick and spongy and red, and the room is softly lit up by several lamps because apparently no one thought it necessary to install a light-bulb in the ceiling.

The red drapes are shut and the room is so wonderfully warm, and really kind of charming, Clark can’t help smiling.

He glances over at Lex, who is nodding with appreciation. “Nice,” Lex comments, sounding surprised. He lays his briefcase on the desk next to the TV and opens it up, then removes what looks like a black leather purse from a compartment in the lid.

“I suppose you want the bed,” Clark says. As much as he’d love to make Lex sleep on the floor, the fact he had insisted earlier Lex pay for the room unfortunately precludes him from making such a demand.

“As long as you promise to keep your hands to yourself, Clark, you’re welcome to share the bed with me.”

Clark’s outraged scoff is answered by the sound of the bathroom door closing and being locked, so it turns into a sigh, as he sits down on the bed and bounces a little, before falling back onto the mattress with a soft thump. One night in a hotel room with Lex isn’t going to kill him. Tomorrow the storm will have passed and they’ll jump back in Lex’s awesome car and drive home, and Clark won’t have to see him again until the next time there’s a crisis. It won’t be so bad. He’s feeling pretty tired now anyway. He hears Lex brushing his teeth in the bathroom and figures the purse was actually a toiletry bag, which makes him wonder how often Lex doesn’t make it home after he goes to the opera. Maybe he’d been intending to stay the night with his date.

By the time Lex is done in the bathroom, Clark is stripped down to his boxers and tucked up in bed, eyes shut tight, pretending to be asleep. He hears Lex take off his tie then his shirt then his belt then his pants then his socks, then he hears him moving around the room, switching off all the lamps. But it’s not until Clark feels Lex climbing into bed next to him he realizes quite how weird this really is.

Perhaps he should have slept in his clothes…

Clark wakes the next morning with his face pressed against Lex’s back. His eyes fly open and he jerks back in horror, quickly wipes the drool off Lex’s warm skin with the edge of the quilt, and jumps—or rather, falls, if anyone’s keeping score—out of bed. He stands next to the bed for a good minute and a half, stock still and traumatized, then he pulls himself together, turns around, walks over to the window and opens the drapes.

Holy…

That’s not good.

Clark stares out into the gloomy void and tries to stay calm.

He can hear Lex stirring in the bed behind him, but Clark is too mesmerized to take a look. Where the hell has the ground gone?

“What’s going on?” Lex croaks, sleepy and confused.

“Um…”

Lex slips out of bed and plods over to the window, stands next to Clark, and joins him in staring at the disaster outside.

“Huh,” Lex says.

Clark turns to look at him. “‘Huh?’ That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“What?” he says. “I’m a powerful man, Clark, but I still haven’t figured out how to control the weather.”

“I know that,” Clark replies.

“Then stop acting like this is all my fault.”

“I could have stayed at Chloe’s,” Clark mumbles. “But no. ‘Really, it’s no trouble. I’m going that way.’”

“Oh for— You know what? Why don’t you stop moaning and grow the hell up.” Lex walks away from the window and starts pulling on his clothes. “So we’re here for another few hours—”

“It’s still snowing! We could be here for—” Clark plucks the longest possible time he can think of out of his brain, “—ever!”

Lex stops putting his trousers on for a moment, one leg in, the other not, just to gape at Clark like he’s the most annoying brat on the face of the earth. “Please stop talking,” he says.

“Fine,” Clark replies, and goes back to staring out the window.

God he hates snow.

Twenty minutes later Clark decides to get dressed too, and then the two of them head downstairs for breakfast. They’re still not speaking to each other, but Clark is no longer in a bad mood.

The dining room is half full, and smells like pastry and coffee, which improves Clark’s mood even further.

Lex reads yesterday’s paper over their bacon and eggs, and doesn’t complain when Clark steals his hash brown.

“It’s rude to read at the breakfast table,” Clark says with a mouth full of scrambled eggs and toast.

Lex looks up at him. “It’s also rude to speak with your mouth full, so I guess good manners aren’t a priority for either of us.”

Clark curls his lip at Lex, who doesn’t even see because he’s gone back to his paper, and shovels more food into his mouth.

After breakfast they go back to their room, but once they get there Clark realizes there is nothing to do. Lex sets himself up on the bed, with his laptop in his lap, and proceeds to ignore Clark, tapping away on the keyboard and staring unblinking at the screen. Clark paces for a while, mostly out of restlessness, although it soon turns into more of an attempt to get Lex’s attention than anything else. How can Clark’s pacing not be annoying him? Why is Lex acting like he’s not even noticing it?

Clark sighs loudly and stops in front of the door, then looks back at Lex. A few seconds later, Lex, who finally notices the sudden lack of noise in the room, looks up at Clark.

“Yes?” he asks.

Clark glares at him. “I’m going downstairs. I’m gonna take a look around.”

Lex looks uninterested. “Good idea,” he says, looking back at the screen. “Have fun.”

For a moment, Clark considers frying Lex to a crisp with his heat vision, but he resists the urge and storms out instead. He knows Lex is deliberately winding him up. He knows it and knowing it doesn’t stop it from working.

Clark takes a seat downstairs in the games room and flicks through a magazine about cars and half watches two men playing pool, all the while wondering why he lets Lex get to him. He wishes he were better at deliberately messing with Lex’s head, but he’s comforted by the fact he’s the master at doing it accidentally.

God, he’s bored.

The morning drags on and on and on. He reads for a bit, he plays pool with a few of the other hotel guests, he plays gin rummy with a nine year old girl, and he stares out the window of the reception, even though there’s nothing to see but snow. Lex comes downstairs for lunch and they eat together, and while they don’t do a lot of talking, at least Lex isn’t reading this time.

“What did you get up to this morning?” Lex asks him.

Clark scratches his neck and thinks back. “Played some pool. Read a magazine about cars. Got my ass kicked at rummy by a small child.” He nods. “That’s pretty much it.”

Lex is nodding and looking interested.

“Don’t patronize me,” Clark says, which makes Lex duck his head in an attempt to hide his smile.

The afternoon moves at an even slower pace than the morning, so at three o’clock Clark decides the best way to kill time is to take a long nap. Lex is back upstairs, sitting up on the bed with his computer, the television blaring — Lex has managed to find a channel devoted to people talking about the stock market as if it’s actually interesting — and he doesn’t react at all when Clark climbs up next to him, lies down on his back, props his arms behind his head and shuts his eyes. The monotonous drone eventually sends him to sleep.

When Clark wakes up he’s not sure what the time is, but the television is still on, the bathroom door is shut and the shower is going.

That’s not a bad idea, actually. He’ll have a wash once Lex is done.

Ten minutes later Lex emerges from the bathroom wearing a white toweling robe and he’s carrying something black, damp and crumpled in his hand. He shakes it out and hangs it over the radiator.

“What are you doing?” Clark asks.

“I went downstairs while you were asleep and got some detergent from Miss Rose because I didn’t want to have to wear dirty underwear for another day, and this hotel doesn’t provide a laundry service.”

“Oh.”

“There’s plenty left if you want to do the same.”

Clark nods and hops off the bed. He takes off his shirt and pants and heads for the bathroom, hoping Lex has left his purse in there because he wants to brush his teeth and the hotel doesn’t seem to provide toothbrushes either. Bingo!

He washes his boxer shorts first, then he brushes his teeth, then he has a long, relaxing, piping hot shower. Before exiting the bathroom he wraps a big white towel around his waist. Hopefully there’s another robe in the room for him to wear while he waits for his underwear to dry.

“There was only one robe,” Lex tells him. “Sorry.”

Clark glowers at him and adjusts his towel to stop it slipping down. Lex is sitting back on the bed in his comfy looking robe, now watching some kind of boring political news program on television. The black TV remote sits in his lap, and Clark’s instant, irrational response to everything he’s seeing is: I don’t want to watch the news. I am going to steal that remote from Lex and we’re going to watch something of my choosing.

For the first time that day, the irritation at being in this situation when he doesn’t really need to be, and the boredom accompanying his feeling of uselessness, dissipates completely. Now he’s just pissed off. Lex has had everything his way so far, and he’s still getting his way, and Clark does not want to watch this stupid program.

He walks over to the bed in as blasé a manner as possible, walks around it to his side, and sits down next to Lex, mirroring his pose; his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle, his back against the pillows propped up on the headboard.

Lifting the remote out of Lex’s lap and switching channel to—ha, this will annoy Lex—The Cartoon Network, without so much as looking over at him, makes Clark smile wide.

“Hey!” Lex shouts. “Give that back.”

“No.”

“Clark,” Lex says, more patiently this time. “I was watching that. Give. It back.”

“No.”

Lex is moving, he’s trying to grab back the remote, but Clark holds it away from him, just out of reach, and watches Lex grasp at the air uselessly. “Clark,” Lex warns, his voice low and menacing. He sits back, breathing hard.

“What?” Clark says, smiling.

“Give me back the fucking remote.”

“Why should I? I want to watch this.” He squints at the television and tries to work out what the show is. It doesn’t look familiar.

When Lex attacks again, Clark starts to laugh. Lex is practically growling, and is climbing onto Clark, grabbing his outstretched arm, attempting to pull it back towards himself. But Clark doesn’t move his arm an inch and he responds to Lex’s futile attempts at beating him with a mocking smile. Lex can’t beat him.

Clark snickers when Lex gives up again, which seems to incense him more; his breathing is louder, angrier, his mouth set in a thin, hard line.

“Wow, you really hate not getting your way,” Clark observes with satisfaction.

Lex turns his head towards Clark and sneers at him in a manner that probably scares the living daylights out of most other people. “And you’ve just learned this about me now?”

He’s off the bed, stalking towards the TV, manually changing the channel back. He turns and glares at Clark, and Clark knows what the look means. Lex is daring him to keep this up. Daring him. Clark might have the strength, but does he have the willpower?

Oh yes.

He switches the channel back with a smile.

Lex snarls and pounces onto the bed, then onto Clark, with even more force than before. He’s scrambling up Clark’s body, clawing his way up Clark’s arm, grunting with the effort, and he’s relentless. Clark knows he should at least pretend Lex’s attack is painful or difficult for him or something, but he’s enjoying it too much. Lex looks so wild and out of control, and it’s funny because it’s just a TV remote and Clark knows Lex doesn’t care that much about the program he was watching, only about losing to Clark.

It is a small concern Lex might actually hurt himself on Clark’s body. If he decides to get violent and hit him or bite him, that will do far more damage to Lex than to Clark. Plus, the way Lex is writhing around on him is starting to loosen Clark’s towel, and the frenzied nature of his ineffectual flailing is having the effect of making Clark’s heart beat faster and body temperature heat up.

He flips Lex over onto his back and pins him to the bed, arm across his chest holding Lex’s arms in place at his sides, thigh across Lex’s thighs, elbow on the bed on the other side of Lex, remote in his hand, mere inches away from Lex’s face.

Clark’s towel has loosened a lot but it’s still in place, and Lex’s robe is twisted around in an almost comical fashion.

“Do you concede?” Clark asks him, with a pointed glance at the remote in his hand.

Lex breathes heavily. “Never.”

Clark removes his arm from Lex’s chest and places his hand next to Lex’s head, then he takes his elbow off the bed. Lex can now move his arms freely. “Okay,” he says with a nod. “Try and take it off me.” He points the remote towards Lex, offering it to him.

Lex doesn’t move at first, except for his heaving chest, he just stares up at Clark. Then he slowly lifts his left arm off the bed and grabs the part of the remote that’s sticking out of Clark’s fist. It makes Clark smile to feel Lex pulling at it, trying to extract it. It makes his whole body tingle when Lex reaches over and starts pulling with both hands.

He’s not sure what he’s feeling when Lex starts pushing at Clark’s fingers, because he knows it’s supposed to be an attempt to get Clark to unfurl them; it’s supposed to be an attempt to get Clark to lose his grip on the remote and drop it. But the way Lex is rubbing his thumbs over Clark’s fingers and knuckles just feels kind of nice.

It takes another two or so minutes before Lex gives up again. He lifts his hips off the bed and straightens his robe, then settles back down. Placing his arms back against his sides, he looks up at Clark, face not giving anything away. He could still be angry, or he could be planning another attack, or he could be waiting for Clark to get tired of the game and give up.

Clark isn’t remotely tired, however, so if that’s what Lex is hoping will happen he’s got another thing coming.

“I’ll make it easier for you,” Clark says. He puts the remote down onto the bed, a few inches away from Lex shoulder. “There.” He says nodding towards it. “Just grab it. If I can’t get to it before you do, you can keep it. And you can watch whatever you want.”

Lex’s eyes flash. He’s always loved a challenge.

To make it a little easier on him and a little more comfortable, Clark lets his thigh slide the rest of the way across Lex’s, until he’s kneeling on the bed over Lex. Straddling him, to be precise. And he should probably re-fasten his towel, because it’s coming dangerously close to falling off completely, and he knows he’s showing a lot more thigh than he should be, but he just takes his hand off the bed, puts both hands behind his back and grins at Lex instead.

Lex is very still. Watching Clark. Waiting for the right moment to make his move.

But there’s no such thing as the right moment, not in this game. No matter what Lex does, Clark will be too fast for him.

Lex pushes himself up on his elbows, staring into Clark’s eyes, pupils huge and there’s a smile in those eyes, somewhere, even if his mouth is set in a straight, unreadable line.

His mode of attack this time is ingenious, if not successful. He whips off Clark’s towel with one hand, and goes for the remote at the same time with the other. If time didn’t move at a different speed for Clark than for everyone else, the removal of his towel would have sufficiently distracted him from the game they’re playing, and Lex would have won. Luckily he can move faster than Lex can do anything, so when Lex’s hand hurtles towards the remote in slow motion, and he probably thinks he’s got it, he probably thinks he’ll have the remote in his hand in the next second, Clark makes sure the only thing Lex’s hand comes into contact with is Clark’s.

Lex growls in frustration, scrabbling again at Clark’s fist with both hands, writhing beneath Clark in a way that feels really good. Bucking up under him and grunting. Beads of sweat shining on his forehead and cheeks. Face pink and teeth gritted.

And Clark is aroused. He daren’t look down at his penis, which is no longer covered up—God, he’s naked now, and apparently more interested in letting Lex wrestle with him than putting his towel back on—because if he sees he has an erection he can no longer deny it to himself.

“Calm down,” he murmurs, wiping the sweat from above Lex’s upper lip with his thumb. “You can’t beat me.” Lex stops moving.

He sees Lex looking down between their bodies, then up again, into Clark’s eyes, which means he’s seen Clark’s arousal. He doesn’t look disgusted or afraid though, so maybe it isn’t as bad as Clark thinks it is. Clark glances down at himself and gulps. His cock is so engorged it looks huge, even to Clark.

He needs to distract Lex, make him forget what he saw. “I’ll — give you another chance,” he says, and he sounds a bit breathless which was not his intention. “I’ll—” He puts the remote on Lex’s chest, but the robe is in the way and it doesn’t sit right, so he opens it up a little and slips the remote between the material, onto Lex’s skin.

He’s not satisfied with that either though, because the remote would look better if it were sitting on Lex’s belly, not his chest, so he tugs the robe open some more, the band around the waist tied tightly enough to protect Lex’s modesty—although at this point Clark doesn’t see why Lex should get to be dressed when Clark isn’t—and slides the remote down his chest until the waist band stops it sliding further.

Lex squirms beneath him but he keeps his arms at his sides, and he doesn’t look uncomfortable. His hands are resting lightly on the sides of Clark’s thighs, just above his knees.

“I’ll just put it here,” Clark says, although he’s still not happy with where it is. He reaches down again and loosens the tie, pushing it down further so it’s loosely wrapped around Lex’s lower belly, just above his groin, then he opens the robe up even further. Clark likes the way the long, black remote looks against the smooth, pale skin of Lex’s belly. “Try and take it,” he whispers.

Lex shifts under him, hips rotating in one slow, provocative move, and Clark hears himself suck in a breath. He won’t let Lex distract him.

“Put your hands behind your head,” Lex says, his voice kind of hoarse.

That seems a fair request. It won’t help Lex at all but at least it will make Clark look like a reasonable man. He puts his hands on the back of his neck and holds them there.

The reaction he gets is not what he had expected. Lex’s hands don’t move towards the remote at all. They slide a few inches up Clark’s thighs and his fingertips press into Clark’s skin. Lex stares up at him, his breathing quick and shaky, and then his eyes start moving. From Clark’s face to his arms to his chest to his stomach. Clark looks down at himself with a frown and suddenly realizes what he must look like.

Straddling Lex, completely naked, massive erection, arms behind his head and body stretched out, as if he’s on display. He’d feel foolish, only Lex seems to like what he sees.

He’s now staring at Clark’s cock and absently massaging Clark’s thighs.

The longer Lex stares at Clark there and the more his hands move, the more turned on Clark feels. He has a strong urge to touch himself, and relieve some of the pressure, but he keeps his hands where they are.

Lex’s hands are inching slowly up Clark’s thighs, pressing fingers and thumbs into Clark’s flesh as he goes. When his index fingers meet the underside of Clark’s ass, Clark exhales sharply and shudders, but otherwise he stays as still as he can. Lex grips the top of Clark’s right thigh with his left hand and he slides his right hand around to the front of Clark’s left thigh, then trails his fingers slowly, so slowly, down towards his knee.

When he reaches the top of Clark’s knee, he stops. And lingers. He looks up at Clark, who is staring at him with his mouth open, and sweeps his tongue over his bottom lip. Clark finds himself swaying forward slightly, suddenly lightheaded.

Now Lex is trailing his fingers over his own white cotton-covered thigh, painstakingly slowly, slowly, trailing towards his groin, then up towards the waist band of his robe.

Oh God, what is Lex doing? Is he going to open his robe?

Clark pushes his hips forward and loses his breath a little.

But Lex doesn’t do anything. He just stops, his hand stops moving and it rests on the band and he’s not untying it and not opening it. Lex stares up at him until Clark feels like he’s being hypnotized.

Then Lex does something, and it happens so fast that when it’s over, Clark isn’t sure it really happened. Except it must have because he heard himself moan.

Did Lex just brush his fingers down the length of Clark’s cock, then put his hand back exactly where it had been?

Clark thinks he did. His cock certainly thinks it happened because it’s started to leak fluid and it’s tingling intensely. It makes Clark reach down, untie the waist band of Lex’s robe himself and push it open. It’s only fair he gets to see Lex naked after all.

The sight he sees is almost enough to make Clark lose his balance. Lex has no pubic hair and his penis is long, thick and circumcised. And extremely hard. Hard, and dark with blood, the cockhead slick and swollen.

Lex’s erection rests on his belly, which is glistening with sweat. The remote lies just above his navel and they form a straight line, pointing up Lex’s body towards his chin. The remote is rectangular but it’s otherwise a similar size and shape to Lex’s penis.

“Mm,” is all Clark can say.

They’re still playing the game though, of that Clark is certain. Lex hasn’t given up on getting the remote and Clark has definitely not given up on keeping it.

A way to win the game flashes into Clark’s head, and it’s such a dirty idea he has to shut his eyes for a second and attempt to regain some control. When he opens them again, he realizes he’s rotating his hips around in small circles; he’s not really meaning to do it but he can’t seem to keep still anymore.

Lex is sliding his index finger up and down his own erection and watching Clark’s face avidly.

There’s no way Clark can leave his hands where they are any longer. It’s time to end this game, it’s time for Clark to win. He takes his hands off his neck, places his palms on his thighs, and waits for Lex to do something.

“You’re cheating,” Lex says.

“You can still win, Lex,” he replies. He lies. He takes himself in hand and starts stroking. He’s already so close to orgasm he knows it could be over in a matter of seconds, but that wouldn’t be fair to Lex. Clark needs to show Lex how he’s going to win and end the game, so that Lex can play too, so he falls forward, catches himself on his left hand, and starts jacking himself with fervor. He points his dick at the remote and looks from Lex’s face to Lex’s cock then back again, encouraging him to participate.

Lex gets it, and he starts to masturbate too, getting into it without hesitation. His eyes start to cross and his breathing comes in shuddering waves and he looks so turned on, and so close to the edge, maybe he’s actually in with a chance here.

They’re both so loud. The slap of skin on skin, the harsh breathing, the grunts and groans, and Clark thinks then that jerking off has never felt this good before. Of course, he’s never jerked off in front of someone else before, and he’s never watched another person jerk off, so that might have something to do with why it’s better than usual.

Lex is slowing down his fist, but thrusting his hips harder and longer, squeezing his eyes shut and no longer breathing. Clark knows what that means because he’s doing the same thing. It means Lex is about to come. They’re both about to come.

The remote slides up and down on slippery skin, the room feels hot like a sauna, and the urge to touch Lex is too powerful to resist; Clark lifts his hand off the bed and plants it on Lex’s chest, slides it up and grips his shoulder as his orgasm hits.

Lex moans at the touch and Clark moans at the rush, watching a stream of white fluid shoot out of his dick and land on the black remote, and on Lex’s belly, and on his robe and a little bit on his chin and then Lex is coming too, only a few seconds behind Clark.

Clark smears their collective come all over the remote, then he pushes it aside and rubs it into Lex’s torso, shuddering and gasping.

They stare at each other as they catch their breath. Once down, Clark feels shocked at what just took place, rocks back on his heels and collapses onto his ass at the foot of the bed. Staring into space is all he’s capable of right now.

A glance over at Lex confirms he's similarly bewildered, but then Lex makes eye contact with Clark and raises his eyebrows at him. He peels the remote off his chest gingerly and dangles it at Clark. It’s so disgusting, Clark winces.

“I concede,” Lex says with a small smile. “I think you won this fair and square.” He tosses it at Clark who has no choice but to catch it.

“Oh God,” Clark groans. “It’s slimy.” He can see Lex smiling wider out of the corner of his eye as Clark throws the remote across the room and into the bin.

Lex slides off the bed and shrugs off his robe, then heads towards the bathroom.

“I need another shower.” He turns at the door and addresses Clark as if everything was still normal between them. “Then we can go downstairs and have some dinner. Okay?”

Clark nods and doesn’t move from his spot on the bed for the next five minutes. When he hears the shower stop he gives himself a good, hard slap across the face, then dresses in super time. He doesn’t put on his underwear, because they’re still wet—he tests Lex’s and finds his are as well—and then he’s back in his stupid dress pants and wrinkled white shirt, day-old socks and shiny black shoes.

He sits back down on the bed and keeps his eyes averted when Lex emerges from the bathroom. What the hell are they going to talk about over dinner? They just—Clark has no idea what they just did, but he knows it wasn’t normal. He sneaks a peek at Lex getting dressed, and sees him doing up his fly. And looking at Clark.

“Sorry,” Clark says, dropping his chin and staring at the floor. He doesn’t look up again until he’s sure Lex is done.

“Ready to go?” Lex asks him, walking past him towards the door.

Clark blinks at him a few times, takes a deep breath and stands up. “Let’s go,” he says as brightly as possible, grabbing the room key off the desk and following Lex out of the room.

Being downstairs is a welcome respite from the tainted bedroom, although it can’t be denied the restaurant feels kind of intimate.

There are candles and red tablecloths on every table, and it’s toasty warm. Miss Rose seats them in the corner, as if she wants to give them some privacy or something, and before Clark has a chance to protest, she’s pouring red wine into their glasses.

“On the house, boys,” she drawls, winking at Clark. “Get you in the mood.”

“In the mood for what?” Clark asks, but she’s already got her back turned, and Lex is watching her retreating body with a raised eyebrow.

Lex takes a sip of the wine. “It’s terrible,” he says, without surprise.

Clark has a taste but doesn’t find it offensive. He shrugs. “I like it.”

“You would,” Lex deadpans.

“That’s because I’m not a snob,” he says.

“True,” Lex nods. “You’re a philistine.”

Clark grins. “How were we ever friends? We have nothing in common.”

“Hm. We have some things in common,” Lex murmurs into his glass, before taking another sip. “We both like to win.” The way he looks up at Clark when he says that makes Clark shift in his seat, the memory of what they were doing less than an hour ago now at the forefront of his mind.

Oh no. He’s getting turned on again, just from thinking about it. They need to change the subject.

Fortunately Miss Rose is back at their table, grinning at Clark which has the fortuitous effect of swiftly softening his penis.

“Fresh food’s a problem today, boys, as I’m sure you can appreciate. Spaghetti okay with you both?”

Clark nods at her. “That’d be great,” he says, looking over at Lex to find him nodding at her as well.

As they wait for their food, Clark fidgets with his napkin and tries to watch Lex without being noticed. This doesn’t work very well because Lex’s gaze on him is unwavering, if difficult to read.

“Do you remember Amy?” Lex asks, so out of the blue Clark blinks in surprise.

“Uh... yeah.”

Lex chuckles. “Imagine the money she could have made with her invisibility potion of power.”

“It wasn’t Amy with the potion, it was her crazy brother.”

“I thought Amy was the crazy one,” Lex says with a frown.

“I think they were both crazy.”

Lex’s pleased smile makes Clark laugh.

“Good times,” Clark quips.

That kicks off the reminiscing, which turns out to be a lot more fun than Clark would have expected. They stick to talking about things that happened in the first few years of their friendship. Or rather, things that happened while they were still friends. And they both avoid any mention of Lana.

The spaghetti arrives and is surprisingly tasty, although Clark, for probably the first time in his life, finds he’s not all that hungry anymore. His appetite had abruptly disappeared a few minutes before the food had arrived, when Lex had stretched his legs out under the table and one of his feet had touched Clark’s.

Clark feels like he should move his foot away and stop this foolishness once and for all, but it’s turning him on too much, so instead of moving away, he occasionally shifts his leg so his ankle brushes against Lex’s calf. On one occasion, it even makes Lex’s eyelids flutter.

They talk less while they eat, and Clark feels increasingly tense. Or more...wound up and restless. He’s squirming a lot, which is terrible behavior really, but he can’t stop moving and he can’t seem to stop feeling horny. Most alarming of all, he can barely even eat.

“Can you pass the salt?” Lex asks. Is it just Clark’s imagination or did that sound like the dirtiest question ever?

Lex takes the salt out of Clark’s hand slowly, letting his fingers linger on Clark’s skin.

They’re really flirting with each other now, so blatant there’s no denying where this is headed, which scares the crap out of Clark. Although it’s not so scary Clark wants to stop.

“You remember that time I came to visit you and you suggested we go for a walk in the woods?” Lex asks, putting down his fork, wiping his mouth with his napkin, and taking a sip of wine.

Clark squints at him. “I need more information.”

“It was a warm day and you were wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt.”

Clark raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh of course! How could I forget.”

“We were walking down by the stream.” Lex pauses and smiles. “You tripped.”

Oh God.

“You tripped over a tree branch and fell face first into the stream.”

“Yeah,” Clark says. “I remember that.” He’d been so embarrassed. “What’s your point?”

“You were all…” Lex is shaking his head from side to side and looking dreamy. “…wet.”

“That’s because I fell into a stream,” he explains, although he’s starting to wonder where Lex is going with this.

“The front of your jeans, your t-shirt, even your hair. You were drenched.”

“Yes, Lex. I do remember.”

“You looked really—” Lex pauses to swallow, lick his lips, stare at Clark’s mouth. “—good.”

Clark responds to that with an involuntary body spasm and a shove of his leg, but Lex just presses back, calf to calf, and continues to stare at Clark.

“What?” Clark breathes out, shocked at how forward Lex is being.

“We went back to the house after that. You dripping wet, me…”

“Laughing your ass off,” Clark reminds him.

“You were laughing too! Eventually.”

Clark had sulked at first, it’s true. But Lex couldn’t control himself; he kept cracking up every few minutes or so, and it had been too infectious for Clark to stay moody. Lex has never been much of a laugher.

“But…” Clark starts, knitting his brow and looking at Lex. “If you thought I looked good, why were you laughing at me?”

Lex looks off to the side with a small smile, then back at Clark. “What on earth could I have done except laugh, Clark?”

Clark can think of a few things.

“When we got back to the house,” Lex continues, “and you went upstairs to get changed.” He shuts his eyes for a long moment, as if savoring the memory. “I wanted to follow you.”

Clark smiles at him. “Why?” he asks.

“To be perfectly honest, I just wanted to—” Lex stops. He’s very good at pausing for dramatic effect, and it’s beginning to drive Clark a bit crazy. “I wanted to watch you get changed.”

“That’s all?” Clark says. “You just wanted to watch me get changed.”

Lex taps his lip with his index finger and shifts his leg, sending another jolt of arousal through Clark’s body. “Ha. It’s possible I wanted more. But I would have been happy with that.”

Clark nods, breathes, moves his leg and feels Lex shudder against him. “So this was when I was fifteen years old then.".

Lex laughs and spreads his hands. “Which is why I would have been happy just looking.”

“Imagine if you had followed me up to my bedroom.” Clark says, shaking his head and trying to picture it. “I probably would have freaked out.”

Lex grins. “Hence my decision to wait downstairs.”

They both laugh. And they both move again, against each other. Clark is slouched low in his chair now so he can press the whole of his lower leg against Lex’s, and he’s got a massive erection, which, given their location, is problematic. He has no idea how he’s going to get rid of it, but he has to somehow, because he really doesn’t want to be in this restaurant anymore and he can’t walk out of there like this.

“Are you going to finish that?” Lex nods at Clark’s plate without taking his eyes of Clark’s face.

“No,” Clark replies. “I’m full.”

“Me too.”

Clark is so turned on now he’s finding it hard to keep his eyes focused.

“Shall we head back upstairs?” Lex asks, voice a whisper, lips stained with wine, breathing shallow.

Clark gulps and feels his body tense up with embarrassment. “I might need a minute,” he says. He cannot stand up right now.

Lex doesn’t respond for a long time. Instead his breathing quickens and he swallows a few times as if his mouth is dry. Eventually, he whispers, “It’s dark in here.” Another swallow. “No one will notice.”

Clark glances down at his lap then back up at Lex, grimacing. “It’s pretty obvious.”

“Oh fuck.” Lex has his wallet out, he’s putting money on the table, he’s pushing his chair out. “You and me both, Clark. Come on. Walk as fast as you can.”

Clark blinks several times and stands up. He can’t help looking down at Lex’s crotch and yeah. Lex has the same problem. He’s also not wearing any underwear.

Oh God, that’s not a good thing to be thinking about at a time like this. He can feel a wet patch forming where the head of his cock is rubbing against his pants. If only Lex knew about his powers; he’d whip them both upstairs in an instant and then they’d—

No, he can’t think about that right now. Bad Clark.

He turns around and scans the restaurant, because the worst thing that could happen right now would be for Miss Rose to stop their escape by forcing them to converse with her in the middle of the restaurant, which is packed with people.

“Go,” Lex urges from behind.

He x-rays the far wall and sees Miss Rose in the kitchen, possibly flirting with the massively overweight chef. Clark doesn’t listen in because even though he knows it would be a good idea to calm down, he also doesn’t want to spoil the mood.

They stride through the restaurant and Clark keeps his eyes in front of him. They make it out unscathed and hurry up the stairs.

At their door, Clark fumbles with the keys. It’s hard to concentrate on opening the damn door with Lex standing so close behind him, his warm breath tickling Clark’s neck. Clark holds back a moan and lets them inside.

When he stops at the foot of the bed and turns his body about ninety degrees, Lex slows down and slides past him, facing him, his body brushing against Clark’s as he goes. It makes Clark put a hand on Lex’s upper arm to guide him. Help him move past, follow him. Breathe on him.

Lex walks backwards, his fingertips on Clark’s chest, Clark following him around the bed, both hands now on Lex’s arms.

They circle each other once, staring, then finally come to a halt with Clark’s back to the bed, his calves touching the side of it. They both drop their hands to their sides and stare at each other.

Clark feels uncertain about what he’s supposed to do now, although his cock seems to have some ideas. If it could speak, Clark suspects it would be telling him to rip off Lex’s clothes, but it can’t speak and Clark would like to think he’s still in control, so he just waits instead.

Lex is panting a little and his eyelids are drooping but he’s clearly not tired. He’s motionless, and then he’s not. He reaches up towards Clark and begins to undo the buttons on his shirt.

“Lex,” Clark murmurs.

“Clark.”

He pulls Clark’s shirt free from his pants and undoes the last couple of buttons then opens it wide. He places his hands on Clark’s chest and slides them down over his belly, then up, up, over his shoulders, pushing at the shirt, sliding it down his arms. It falls onto the bed behind Clark, and that’s when Clark decides to stop being passive.

Grabbing Lex’s face in his hands and drawing him forward, Clark bends and tilts his head and kisses Lex on the mouth. Oh God, should he have done that? He pulls back so he can study Lex’s reaction.

Lex is swaying towards him, as if he wants to be kissed again which Clark takes as a good sign. This time he wraps his arms around Lex and when he kisses him he uses his tongue. As they kiss Lex rubs his erection against the space between Clark’s hipbone and groin. And when they part, Lex works at getting his own shirt buttons undone.

“Take off your pants,” Lex tells him, shrugging off his shirt and pulling at his belt. But it’s an unnecessary command, because Clark already has his fly undone.

They undress as fast as possible, flinging clothes away, kicking shoes off, tugging off their socks, and when they embrace again and fall onto the bed, they’re both naked.

It feels different being naked with Lex this time, which Clark supposes is only natural. Because this time they’ve made the decision to have sex with each other, whereas a few hours ago it had just been a game.

They’ve switched positions too, with Clark on his back and Lex straddling him, his hands grasping Clark’s cheeks, kissing him deep, almost feverish, and rutting against Clark’s belly.

Lex’s tongue moves inside Clark’s mouth, licking Clark’s tongue, his teeth biting Clark’s lips. Clark can feel the need in Lex’s kiss, and it occurs to him Lex might not have sex very often either. It also occurs to Clark he really shouldn’t be doing this at all because it’s too risky.

The last time he’d had sex had been with Lana and the only reason he’d agreed to it was because she was invulnerable. The time before had also been with Lana and the reason they’d been able to is because Clark wasn’t invulnerable.

Which begs the question — why now? Why is he fooling around with a human whose bones he could accidentally snap like a twig if he lost even a fraction of control.

Lex sucks on his neck, rubs one of his nipples with his thumb.

Clark can do this. It’ll be like when he played football. He just won’t use his powers. Easy.

Lex is mouthing Clark’s collar bone and gripping Clark’s head with one hand, sliding fingers over Clark’s lips with the other. Clark laps at the tips of Lex’s fingers, runs his hands up Lex’s back, over his neck, one hand over his head.

Then he bends his head down and rests his lips on the top of Lex’s head, kisses him.

It makes Lex freeze. Clark does it again, kissing Lex’s scalp, light touches with his fingers. Kissing him and petting him and causing Lex to lose the ability to do anything but submit to it. It seems the skin on Lex’s scalp is ultra sensitive, and that he’s not used to being touched or kissed there, and Clark really, really likes that.

He kisses and caresses Lex’s head, all over. “Does that feel nice?” he whispers into Lex’s ear, licking the lobe, licking inside.

“Yes.”

Now Clark knows what he wants to do. He rolls them over until he’s above Lex, and he continues to kiss him. His forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his lips, his chin.

Has anyone ever made love to Lex?

Clark doesn’t want to think about what sex between Lex and Lana was like, but if Clark’s recent session with Lana is any indication, she’s not into tenderness anymore. Is that Lex’s doing? Because she hadn’t been like that those first few times with Clark, years ago.

Has anyone ever kissed Lex all over, touched his silky skin and loved the way it felt, tasted him, cherished him, made him feel adored? Did Lana make Lex feel like that? Helen? Desiree? Victoria? All those faceless, forgettable women Lex gave diamonds to then never called?

Clark doubts it.

The way Lex is writhing on the bed, as Clark licks, kisses, nibbles and fondles; eyes shut and breathy moans escaping from parted, wet lips; he looks like he’s in heaven, and that’s confirmation enough for Clark.

Clark swirls his tongue around Lex’s naval, sucks on the flesh of his belly, runs his hands all over Lex’s chest. Then he feels Lex’s cock bump his chin. He looks up and sees Lex gazing down at him, and he stops what he’s doing.

Until this moment Clark hadn’t considered how inexperienced he is.

He swallows and stares into Lex’s eyes. “I’ve never been with a guy before,” he admits, feeling foolish.

“I didn’t think you had,” Lex replies, stroking down Clark’s cheek with the back of his index finger, then sliding his thumb over Clark’s bottom lip.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’re doing fine, Clark. Better than fine.”

“Is this your first time with a guy?”

Lex smiles that little smile of his both layered with meaning and impossible to read.

“It’s my first time since I was a teenager. It’s my first time with someone I—”

Clark licks the head of Lex’s penis, stopping him from finishing his sentence. Kind of a relief really because Clark isn’t sure he can handle hearing what Lex was about to say.

“What should I do?” Clark whispers, then suckles on the salty cockhead like it’s a lollipop as he looks into Lex’s eyes.

Lex has his hand wrapped around the base of his cock and his eyes are crossing.

“Keep going, Clark. Don’t use your teeth.” Clark sucks more of Lex’s dick into his mouth until Lex lets go of himself and Clark replaces Lex’s hand with his own. “Oh Jesus fuck.”

Clark bobs his head, up and down, each time taking more inside, his mouth stretched wide. The head of Lex’s penis bumps the back of his throat.

“Oh Clark, that’s—”

He doesn’t stop. He wants to make Lex come from this. Clark had loved it when Lana sucked on him; she’d been enthusiastic about it too which had been awesome, so if Lex is anything like he is, like all men must be, he’ll probably enjoy being brought to orgasm this way.

It’s possible Lex is close. He’s thrusting his hips up, ramming himself again and again into Clark’s mouth. Clark is crouched over him, between Lex’s bent legs, aroused but unable to touch himself because his hands are too busy. One pulling on Lex’s cock, matching the rhythm of his mouth, the other fondling Lex’s balls, and the sensitive skin behind them.

He should probably feel weird about continuing his exploration down there but it’s so exciting, and when he slips his fingers between Lex’s ass cheeks and makes contact with the puckered skin around what must be Lex’s anus, Lex shouts out Clark’s name, and suddenly Clark’s mouth is full of thick, funny tasting liquid, and Lex is shuddering beneath him. He swallows everything in his mouth with a grimace.

Clark crawls up the bed and lies on his side to watch Lex recover. He strokes himself at the same time because he’s desperate to be touched there and Lex needs a minute.

He looks sexy like this. Naked and sweaty and breathless and flushed.

“Do you want to keep going?” Clark asks, trying not to sound too hopeful.

“Hell yes,” Lex pants.

“Good,” Clark says with a smile, reaching over and stroking Lex’s chest.

Lex turns towards him and lets Clark pull him into his arms for some more kissing.

“You taste like me,” Lex says against Clark’s mouth, licking inside and making Clark buck against him with a loud moan.

“You like the taste?” Clark asks in surprise, kissing him again.

“Yes,” Lex says, running his hands up and down Clark’s back.

“Oh,” Clark groans, pushing Lex onto his back, then rolling him over again until he’s lying on his stomach.

As he kisses his way down Lex’s back, Lex croaks out, “God Clark, you’re—”

A messy kiss in the small of Lex’s back, then Clark slides up his body again, resting his erection in the cleft of Lex’s ass and his mouth on Lex’s ear. “I’m what?”

“You’re blowing my mind,” he groans.

Clark smiles and nibble Lex’s ear, thrusts against him. “I am?”

“Don’t ever stop.”

“Okay.”

It’s an absurd promise to make but it feels like the right thing to say.

Clark moves back down the bed and spreads Lex’s legs wide, kissing the cheeks of his ass, kissing the cleft. Pulling one cheek aside and licking away the sweat from within. He spreads him properly with both hands and flicks his tongue over the little hole. Lex wails above him and pushes his ass back, encouraging Clark to continue.

So he does. He licks it and kisses it and he enjoys the way it makes Lex thrash about on the bed.

“Hold still,” he commands, gripping Lex’s hips in his hands and holding his ass cheeks apart with his thumbs. He slowly works his tongue into the hole, opening him up, sucking around it as he goes. Once he’s in as deep as he can get he loosens his grip and allows Lex to start moving again. Lex thrusts against Clark’s probing tongue, his fucking tongue, God, he’s fucking Lex with his tongue.

This is so not how he envisioned things ending up when he agreed to let Lex drive him home last night.

When he stops to breathe, panting against Lex’s ass, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, Lex speaks. “Clark.”

“What?”

“Do you want to fuck me?”

Oh God. Oh God. Fuck Lex? Does he want to do that? Put his penis where his tongue has just been? It would be a lie to say no, and Clark hates lying.

“Only if you want me to,” he says, his voice shaky.

“There are condoms in my briefcase. And lubricant.”

Clark clears his throat and stares down at Lex’s ass, shiny and wet with Clark’s saliva.

They’ve come this far, and Lex has probably even done this before, years ago. He’ll help Clark through it, let him know if he’s doing anything wrong.

The briefcase is on the desk opposite the bed, next to the television. Clark climbs off the bed, strokes his cock as he walks over to the desk, then looks around at Lex, who has rolled onto his side and is watching him.

“Where?” he asks. He could x-ray all the compartments he supposes, but he can’t be bothered.

“The pocket on the right hand side.”

Clark fishes out a small bottle of KY Jelly and a box of condoms with narrowed eyes. “You come prepared,” he says, scowling at the items in his hands.

“Is that a problem?”

Clark turns around, frowning, and walks back to the bed, hopping on and refusing to look up at Lex. He’s still so turned on he can’t even conceive of stopping, but he’s not happy about this.

“Do you do this sort of thing a lot?” he mutters, annoyed he’s actually feeling jealous. He has no right to feel jealous.

Lex just laughs.

Clark whips his head up and glowers at him. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t do this a lot, no. I don’t do this ever, Clark. I just—” he spreads his hands, looking sheepish. “—like to be prepared for any eventuality.”

Huh?

“Clark,” Lex says, shaking his head and stretching his arms out towards him, reaching for him. “I never in a million years expected this to happen, but on the off chance it did, I would never have forgiven myself if I wasn’t able to provide all the necessary accoutrements. That’s just the kind of man I am. Now come here.”

Clark huffs out a sigh, crawls up the bed and cheers himself up with a few lingering, wet kisses. Then Lex rolls over again and offers his ass to Clark.

“Use lots of lube, and finger me for a while before you do it.”

“Okay,” Clark says.

He squirts a generous amount of the thick, translucent jelly stuff onto his fingers and rubs his hands together until they glisten. He slides both hands between Lex’s ass cheeks, enjoying the way the lube makes their skin slippery. The hole beneath the tip of his index finger is so small. How will he fit a finger in there? How the hell will he fit his cock in there?

He can only try, he supposes. And amazingly Lex opens up for him, and Clark watches his finger disappear.

“Is that okay?” he asks.

“Mm, yeah. Move your finger.”

Clark does so. The tight clench around him as he pushes in and out makes him tremble.

“You’re so tight, Lex,” he says.

“Ah, yeah. It feels good. Keep going.”

“I will,” Clark says. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you.” God, why can’t he shut up? What the hell is with this paranoid jealousy?

Lex pushes back onto his finger. “Not with you,” he gasps. “Put another finger in me.”

They both groan when Clark does it.

And now he’s got two fingers inside and the squeeze around them is even more intense.

“Like that?”

“Oh God, yes. Harder.”

“Lex.” He sits up on his knees and rubs his cock with his free hand, while he fucks Lex with two fingers. Fully encased, he wiggles the tips of his fingers against the spot inside Lex that makes him jerk and gasp. Then he works another finger inside.

Lex thumps the bed with his fist and speeds up his pumping hips.

“Now, do it now. God, Clark, I need you. Fuck me now.”

Clark pulls his fingers free immediately and nods frantically. “Okay, okay. I need you too.” He picks up the box of condoms, opens it and pours them all out onto the bed, then snatches one up in his hand and rips open the packet.

He’s hardly ever even done this before. He didn’t mess up putting on the condom when he was with Lana so there’s no reason he should mess it up now. “Oh man,” he whimpers, trying to steady his hands and keep his eyes focused. He rolls it down over his cock and feels triumphant when it’s finally on. No tears! See, he can totally do this without breaking anything.

Lex has rolled over and is squeezing lube into his hand. “Come here,” he instructs, grabbing Clark’s cock and slicking him. “God, you’re so fucking hot. So fucking gorgeous.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes. Yes. Do it.” He rolls back onto his stomach then pulls his legs up under him until he’s on his hands and knees, looking so damn inviting Clark has to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment and attempt to calm down.

He climbs between Lex’s legs, kneels on the bed and looks down at himself holding onto Lex’s hips.

Lex has gone completely quiet so the only noise in the room is the sound of Clark panting. Clark spreads Lex’s ass cheeks again and gazes at his target. It still looks impossible but Clark can remember fitting three fingers in there only moments ago, and it’s not as if Lex would let him try this if it wasn’t going to work.

He wraps his hand around his cock and guides it forwards, pressing the swollen head against Lex’s hole.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he groans, pushing a little harder. “Ah, ah, oh God.” It’s going in. It’s actually going in.

And he can see it. The way Lex opens up, stretches tight around him, welcomes him inside.

“Yes,” Lex gasps.

As Clark sinks in, inch by inch, he feels scared, but the pleasure is too intense to stop. “I should slow down I should slow down.” He reaches out and drags his fingers over Lex’s scalp and neck, down his back. “Oh God, tell me to slow down I don’t wanna hurt you.” He can’t stop.

He pulls out again, looks at his latex-covered cock, gleaming in the dim light. Then he pushes back inside till he’s about halfway there, and Lex still isn’t stopping him.

“Tell me to slow down,” he demands again, breathless, barely keeping it together.

But Lex just pushes back and groans long and loud when Clark’s cock goes all the way in. Deep inside, Clark holds himself there, shuddering and moaning, so loud he’d be embarrassed if his entire body wasn’t humming with pleasure. He curves over Lex with a grunt, wet chest on wet back, and buries his mouth into Lex’s throat. “Can you believe we’re doing this,” he whispers with a soft laugh.

“No,” Lex gasps back. “I really can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Clark pulls out a little, then thrusts back in with a groan. “God, I can’t believe how good this feels.” He starts fucking, in and out in a perfect rhythm; he could keep this up forever if possible. Just this, this pleasure, this incredible feeling. He sits up and watches himself pump in, out, in, out. “Tell me if I hurt you,” he insists. “Lex, tell me, tell me if I’m hurting you.”

“You’re not hurting me, Clark. I promise.”

“Ah—”

“That’s right, come on, Clark. Come on.”

Clark keeps going for a while then has an idea. He stops abruptly, holds himself still, pulls out slowly. Lex jerks his head around and stares at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Clark says, shaking his head, lying down on his side on the bed, and pulling Lex down so his back is pressed against Clark’s chest and they’re closer. This is better. Clark hooks his hand under Lex’s thigh and lifts it up, spreading him open, allowing Clark to slide his penis back between Lex's ass cheeks, and push inside again.

“I wanted us to be more comfortable,” he explains, sinking in deeper.

This way he can arrange them both so Lex is half on his back, half on his side, Clark behind him and above him, fucking him slow. The other benefit of this position is they can look at each other and kiss each other while they fuck.

Clark strokes Lex’s face as Lex gazes up at him, and there’s something in his eyes, something Clark wants to know about.

“What are you thinking about,” Clark asks him, keeping his thrusts slow and steady.

Lex stares and stares, moving just right so Clark goes in as deep as possible each time. It takes him so long to answer Clark thinks he might have to repeat the question.

But then. “How much I’ve always loved you,” Lex says without inflection.

Clark sucks in a breath, awed and afraid. He knows it’s true because it’s not the kind of thing Lex would lie about, and there was the incident at the stream when Clark was fifteen, and Lex had wanted him. He’d wanted him back then, more than seven years ago, and he still wants him now. Lex has always been openly obsessed with Clark. And he’s always wanted everything Clark’s ever had.

If that’s not love Clark doesn’t know what is.

He kisses Lex on the mouth, embracing him as they move against each other.

Waves of pleasure pulse through Clark’s body, increasing in intensity with each thrust, the thought of having an orgasm becoming more enticing than the original plan to never stop fucking. He can’t seem to help speeding up, with Lex encouraging him in a rasping whisper, yes God yes come on Clark, I want to feel you coming inside me God so big so hard feels so good come for me Clark come for me.

Clark cries out, helpless to delay it any longer, body shuddering hard, ferocious jolts of pleasure rocketing through him, and he remembers in time to let go of Lex and grab hold a pillow instead. He squeezes it, vaguely aware it’s disintegrating in his hand but not remotely concerned.

He pulls himself out of Lex’s body as slowly as possible, then falls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, panting, so hot he feels like he’s about to spontaneously combust. He’s not sure how much time passes but he’s soon conscious of movement beside him, so he looks over and sure enough, Lex is kneeling next to him, eyes roving over Clark’s body and masturbating.

Of course. Lex hasn’t had an orgasm for a while and Clark had forgotten to jerk him off while he’d been fucking him, so no wonder he needs to get off again. Clark reaches over, but Lex just says, “Don’t move,” in a breathless whisper. “Just lie there, just like that.”

Jacking himself hard and fast, fucking his fist, and occasionally reaching out to slide his hand over the sweat-slick skin of Clark’s torso.

“Just like that—uhhh—” Lex bends over and watches himself come onto Clark. Splashes of thick, white bliss painting Clark’s body; Clark slides his hand through the mess, rubbing it into his belly and chest, eliciting a shaky, pleased sigh from Lex.

Lex falls onto his back, then looks over at Clark. “Should we sleep now?” he asks, sounding amused and tired.

Clark nods. “Yes please.” He shuffles over and pulls Lex into his arms and they shift about until Clark is spooning him and feeling exceptionally comfortable. “Goodnight,” he whispers, kissing Lex’s cheek.

“Goodnight Clark,” Lex whispers back, his eyes already shut.

Seconds later Clark drifts off.

Clark is woken up by a bright shard of sunlight streaming across his face. He blinks in surprise and tries to get his bearings. Where is he?

The person in his arms — Lex — is his first clue. Oh yes, that’s right. Snowbound in a weird hotel with his ex best friend. With whom he spent much of yesterday evening having really, truly, incredibly good sex.

Oh man, and he’s woken up with a hard-on. Will Lex want to do it again before they get out of here? Because it looks like it’s a sunny day out there today, which means going back to Smallville, back to their real lives, back to hating each other.

Clark runs his fingers up and down Lex’s back, feeling a peculiar mixture of horny and panicked. He wants this to never end but the end is nigh.

Lex is waking up now, and kissing Clark’s chest and neck and jawline. His breath smells of sleep and his eyes aren’t open yet, and Clark wants him. He pulls him closer and kisses him on the mouth, and if Lex’s erection is anything to go by it looks like they will be having sex again this morning.

They keep it simple this time, rubbing their cocks together and making out.

“We should be able to go home today,” Clark says.

“Shame,” Lex replies.

“Yeah. I don’t want to leave.”

“We don’t have to.”

“We kind of do.”

“I suppose so.”

“Oh God oh. Are we going to—”

“What, Clark? Are we going to what?”

“Do this again, after we get back?”

Clark can feel Lex coming, spilling all over their fists and dicks, gasping out, “Yes!” And Clark doesn’t know whether that’s an answer to his question or just an orgasmic exclamation.

When Clark comes a second later, Lex kisses him through it.

“Yes,” Lex says again once they’ve both caught their breath. “I hope so.”

Lex rests his hand on Clark’s thigh for the duration of the drive home.