And without much further ado, have porn. Also - tstar78? Does this make us not bad anymore? Please? *smiles sweetly*
On A Sunday Afternoon
The Talon at midday was sluggish, as always – people trickling in and out at odd intervals while Lex and Lana went over some kind of interminably boring contract using words that Clark was sure had been invented for the sole purpose of putting people to sleep. They were…linguistic sedatives or something.
And they’d been doing this for like, an hour. Or maybe a half hour, but they’d been doing it for a long time and Clark hadn’t thought to bring something to read because hey! He was going to the Talon with Lex – they’d talk, right? And Lana would be there, and she was also his friend, and didn’t friends usually make conversation and entertain one another?
So maybe he was being a little pouty but it was a Sunday afternoon in the middle of the summer and he was being ignored. He *hated* it when Lex ignored him.
Okay, amend that to a *lot* pouty.
He stifled a gusty sigh, and stared at the ceiling, counting cracks. That occupied him for all of two minutes before it, too, lost interest.
Lex was saying something about the Americans with Disabilities Act and the bathroom, and Lana was talking about building expenses. This day was *so* no fun at all. Clark had wanted to spend the day with *Lex*. They hadn’t hung out in like, a week, because of some kind of overseas deal that Lex was working on and even though Clark had practically *forced* Lex to clear his schedule, they *still* weren’t hanging out. They were sitting next to each other, and occupying two *completely* different realities, which didn’t so much count as hanging out in Clark’s book.
Another gusty sigh tried to break free, but he stopped it. Points for self-control, he thought, twiddling his thumbs.
Maybe someday they’d be able to leave the Talon, or at least ignore the business related discussion and actually, you know, spend time together? Maybe they could go see a movie. Or stay in and watch a movie, because Clark was *really* kind of tired of the looks that Shelley Winters gave him when he went out with Lex. Like she expected them to be holding hands and making out in the back row or something, and while Clark had no objections to that as an idea, it wasn’t true, dammit.
Lex was all…straight. Or something. At least, not attracted to Clark, no matter what Shelley Winters tried to insinuate every time she saw them together. She did this eyebrow cocking thing, and made a show of checking the two of them out when she sold them their tickets, and it was really, *really* old.
Shelley Winters was stupid anyway.
So, stay in and watch a movie. He was definitely going to have to choose it because if he left it up to Lex they’d end up watching Memento for like the five *billionth* time and Clark still wasn’t sure that he got it. He wasn’t even sure that he was *supposed* to. It was one of those movies he was almost sure you had to be a Mensa cardholder to appreciate fully. Which is not to say that he didn’t like it, but…there came a point where he didn’t *want* to try and figure it out anymore.
He just wanted to see people fighting with swords and shooting flaming arrows at Uruk-hai.
“Hey, Lex, did I tell you that I just got the Lord of the Rings dvd? You know, the Two Towers?” Clark interrupted, eagerly. “Maybe we could watch it later?”
Lex looked up, and it was almost like he was startled that Clark was still there at all. Great, he’d managed to *completely* forget Clark in what, thirty, forty minutes? Oh yeah, real *date* material there, Shelley.
“Sure, Clark, whatever you want,” he said distractedly, frowning a little as he studied Clark’s face before turning back to the paperwork. “I just need to finish up here with Lana first.”
“It shouldn’t take *too* much longer,” Lana assured him, dimpling, before looking down again. It occurred to Clark, not for the first time, that her head really was disproportionately small, which was kind of weird.
Chloe thought it was pretty funny, though.
And where *was* Chloe anyway, he wondered, playing with a straw. She was supposed to be here, and so was Pete, and they’d disappeared for the tenth time in the past two weeks. If they thought they were fooling *anybody* then they were so wrong.
Especially because of that time when Chloe came into the Talon with her skirt on backwards. Yeah, real slick guys, he thought, rolling his eyes.
Lex’s sleeve brushed Clark’s as he reached into his jacket for a pen. They’d *finally* reached the signing portion of their conversation. Thank *god*.
Clark wasn’t listening to what they were saying at all, but he could tell from the half smile on Lex’s face that he was being charming. He was doing that thing he did when he was being charming – the flirty eye contact, eyebrow raise thing that made Clark really *really* wish that Lex meant even *half* of what his body language said.
Like when he stood too close to Clark, and smiled *that* smile, or when his hands brushed over Clark’s back, his shoulder in passing. Little gestures that even *Clark* knew were meant to signify possession – you know, when people were together.
Which, despite Shelley Winters and Clark’s personal fantasies, he and Lex were *not*. Dammit.
The frustration had, by this point, become pretty easy to handle. Clark had two years of experience, after all. More, if you counted the year and a half before he decided to acknowledge the fact that he did, in fact, want to jump his best friend’s bones.
That always seemed so out of place when Clark thought it. “Jump Lex’s bones.” It was something Pete would say…if Clark ever told him about the whole “I want Lex so badly I can taste it and it tastes like unrequited love and sexual frustration,” thing.
On the other hand, a much more realistic Pete-reaction would probably be along the lines of, “What the *hell*? Oh, man, *please* tell me that you’re not serious.”
And wouldn’t life be so much easier if he wasn’t?
He glanced over at Lex, still talking to Lana, and yeah, life would be easier. But…Clark couldn’t imagine ever *not* appreciating the long, white hands that were always in motion, or the way Lex’s mouth curled up ever so slightly before he said something that was going to fly *right* over the head of whomever he was talking to. It seemed pretty ridiculous to even contemplate not wanting to kiss Lex, and Clark had this urge to sigh again. Did he really sigh *that* often, he wondered, frowning?
Like, three times in as many minutes. That *had* to be some kind of a record.
Maybe, though, if he did let one of those bad boys out, he’d get Lex’s attention and they could leave.
Yeah, he really was in touch with his inner five year old, he thought, slumping over the counter. He and his inner five year old were *one*.
Reaching over he nabbed a second straw and folded it in half, bending it around the one he already had in his hand to make a small, plastic flag. He stuck it in a muffin. “Property of Clark Kent,” he muttered with a small, victorious smile.
“You realize you’re going to have to pay for that,” Lana said without even looking up. “That’ll be a dollar fifty, Clark.”
“Fine,” he said, slumping lower and glaring. Her head was *really* small, and her teeth were weird. He mentally stuck his tongue out at her, and wondered if Lex would object to having a straw-flag stuck in his pocket.
Clark looked at the light green button down, and figured that Lex probably, in fact, would have some objections.
There may have been times in his life where he was more bored than this, but he was having trouble remember them.
What to do, what to do…other than obsess over the fact that he had *nothing* to do. That probably didn’t help with the boredom situation, Clark’s inner-Lex drawled.
Clark looked over at the real Lex again. A small frown of concentration wrinkled his pale forehead, and he was biting his lower lip. Clark hated it when Lex did that. It made *Clark* want to bite Lex’s lower lip.
Cue boredom morphing into futile arousal, he thought. This time he didn’t fight the sigh. In fact, he even embellished it with an eye roll.
Lex didn’t even look up. He’d be a sucky boyfriend, Clark thought, petulant. He was *totally* inattentive. Clark was better off.
A small triangle of pink tongue swept over Lex’s bottom lip, and yeah, that was a *blatant* lie on Clark’s part. He was *not* better off. He was hopelessly turned on.
God, he hated the Talon. And he hated the Americans with Disabilities Act, and he hated the word ‘overhead’ and he hated that Lana couldn’t have just *faxed* this stuff over to Lex earlier in the week and he hated that he had to pay a buck fifty for the muffin that he’d stuck the straw in. He didn’t even *like* cranberry muffins.
He hated a lot of things.
But mostly, right now, he hated that Lex didn’t want him back. He hated that Lex was *ignoring* him after a full *week* of no contact. And he hated that even if Lex *wasn’t* ignoring him, he wouldn’t be…well. Doing any of the five million things that Clark liked to fantasize about.
He hated that in two weeks he was going off to MetU, and Lex was going to be in Smallville for another month and a half. He hated that he couldn’t just show up at the mansion from Metropolis and say “Just stopping by.” He hated –
“Clark?” Lex called, interrupting his train of thought.
“Yeah?” he said, sitting up, and smiling brightly. “Ready to go?” Finally?
Lex nodded, amused. “Pretty much. Thanks for waiting so…patiently.”
“Uhm, yeah. Anytime,” he said, ducking his head and pretending not to hear the *layers* of sarcasm winding their way through Lex’s tone.
Lex said nothing, just smiled wider and stood. “Okay, Lana, if there are any –” he began, stepping back…directly into a passing waitress.
She fell to the ground, Lex stumbled, the tray flew through the air and three mochaccinnos, a soymilk latte and a double espresso took up permanent residence on Lex’s shirt.
“Ow!” Lex yelped, hissing in a breath. “God *damn*.”
“Lex, are you okay?” Clark asked, immediately, hovering.
“Here,” Lana said, reaching around the bar with a handful of napkins. “Let me…”
“Thanks.” Lex took the napkins and raised a hand to silence the stammering waitress. “It’s my fault. Don’t…worry about it.”
Clark picked up the entire napkin dispenser and followed as Lex walked to the bathroom. Lana called something after them, something that sounded like, “Do you need a doctor?” but Lex waved the question away and Clark wasn’t paying attention.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Clark asked, putting the napkin dispenser down on the sink next to Lex, frowning at the wince that crossed Lex’s face as he peeled off his sodden jacket.
“Other than the gross damage that’s been done to my wardrobe?” Lex replied, swiping ineffectually at the fabric of his shirt. “I’ll live. God, this is *completely* soaked through.” He grimaced, wrinkling his nose. “I’ll have to talk to Lana about how hot the coffee is. I’d never really noticed before.”
“Maybe there should be warning labels on the cups. Like at McDonald’s,” Clark offered helpfully, pulling another sheaf of napkins from the dispenser and holding them out when Lex threw away the ones he’d been using. “Here.”
“Thanks, but I can’t really see those making too much of a difference,” Lex said, frowning. “The shirt’s a total loss anyway.”
Clark opened his mouth to respond, but quickly lost the capability for rational thought as Lex unbuttoned his shirt.
Unbuttoned. His. Shirt.
Lex, who normally wore enough clothing to spend a comfortable day in the Arctic, was unbuttoning his shirt. In front of Clark.
This was some kind of miracle. Or curse. Or something.
Lex was talking, saying something that was probably witty, and biting, but Clark was focused on pretty much one thing: the line of bare, white skin that was exposed from Lex’s collarbone all the way down to the waistband of his pants. And no, Lex wasn’t going to…oh.
Oh yes he was going to take off the whole shirt. And oh yes he *was* going to start trying to wipe the coffee off his back and chest, and yes, yes Clark did have a huge fucking hard on.
The muscles in Lex’s chest – far more defined than Clark had thought they would be – bunched and flexed as Lex reached around to wipe the back of his shoulders off. Clark watched, open mouthed, as the fine, smooth contours of Lex’s torso rippled with each motion.
This was insane. This was a fucking wet dream. This was a fantasy. There should have been porn music playing in the background.
A droplet of coffee made its way down Lex’s chest, leaving behind a sticky, liquid trail. Clark wanted to lick it off.
“What?” Lex said, head shooting up, eyes wide.
Oh Jesus. He’d said it out loud. This was *not* good.
“What did you say?” Lex repeated, frozen.
But, hell. He was leaving in two weeks, and Lex could already *see* how turned on he was, and…Lex was always telling him to make a move. Granted, he meant with Lana, but the advice was still sound, so Clark swallowed, and took a step closer.
“I want to lick it off you,” he repeated, voice strange and low. “The coffee. All of it.”
Lex’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes darkened. But he didn’t bolt, or look disgusted, or upset, or uncomfortable. Just kind of dumbfounded, which was better than Clark had hoped for, so he took a deep breath, and continued, because at this point? What did he have to lose?
“I want to push you back against the wall there, and uhm…” Clark licked his lips. “And just kind of…taste you.”
Lex’s mouth clamped shut, and a muscle in his jaw started to jump. His eyes drifted shut, and when he opened them, they weren’t really any color. They were just burning, and filled with sex.
“And then?” Lex prompted, and his voice was different too. Lower, thicker, like something Clark could touch, almost.
“And then, I’d take your pants off. I want to see you naked, Lex. It’s…I bet you’re so fucking hot,” he whispered, hand reaching up, thumb outlining Lex’s lips.
“Jesus *Christ*, Clark,” Lex whispered before nipping at the pad of Clark’s thumb.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling. “This is okay, Lex?”
“This is *better* than okay,” Lex assured him. “In fact…” he reached over and flicked shut the lock to the bathroom door, a wicked smile playing across his lips as he rasped, “Tell me more.”
Clark choked on a chuckle. “Where should I start?”
“Wherever you want, Clark,” Lex purred, eyes half-lidded. “Your fantasy, remember?”
Clark’s eyes widened. “This is really happening, right?”
“Yeah, yeah it is.” Lex laughed, reaching out and grabbing one of Clark’s hands to pull down and press it over his erection. “Feel real to you?”
“Holy *shit*,” Clark breathed, voice breaking. “Lex, this is…”
“What would you do next, Clark?” Lex prompted again. “I’m naked, and you’re holding me against the wall. What next?”
“You’re so…I want to feel you. Every inch of you, so I run my hands all over your body. Yeah,” he said, smiling, knowing it was more like one of Lex’s smirks. “Want to…make sure that you can’t touch me until I’m ready for you to. It’ll…it won’t last long if you do. So I hold your hands up over your head.”
Lex leaned against the wall, putting his arms up, as though he were tied. “Like this?”
“Yeah. Just like that…and then, then I’d kiss my way down your chest. Lick you. Lick you, right here,” Clark said, running his finger lightly around Lex’s belly button, smirking wider at the shiver that ran through Lex’s body. “I’d leave marks all over, too. So that if anyone saw they’d know…you’re mine.” He looked directly into Lex’s eyes, felt his face turning serious. “Mine,” he repeated, hearing the edge of a growl that crept into his voice.
“Yeah,” Lex said, returning the smirk. “Don’t worry, Clark. Yours.”
“God, I really want to suck you off,” Clark blurted out. “I’ve wondered about it. For a long time, actually and…I want you to come in my mouth.”
“Holy fucking shit,” Lex breathed, head falling back against the tile of the wall. “Clark, I can’t –”
“I’m going to,” Clark said, stepping closer, crossing the little bit of space between them and kissing Lex quickly, deeply, letting his tongue trace the line of Lex’s teeth. “I’m going to make you come so hard you’re not going to remember your own name.”
Lex laughed weakly. “I can see that.”
“Wise guy,” Clark chuckled, sucking a kiss onto Lex’s neck, nipping at his collarbone. Lex didn’t reply, only moaned a little helplessly when Clark drew his tongue down, between Lex’s pectoral muscles. “You’re so goddamned beautiful, Lex.”
“You too,” Lex said. “Just…Clark, please.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry,” Clark said, smiling against Lex’s skin. “I’ve got you. Keep your hands up.”
“Want …want to touch you,” Lex whispered, gasping in a breath as Clark sucked on his nipple. “Shit, Clark, please.”
“Later. I want to do this first,” he said, and he *loved* that Lex’s hands stayed in place. Felt the trill of power run up his back, and bit lightly on Lex’s ribcage, sucking a mark onto the pale skin there. He ran his fingers over Lex’s sides, loving the smooth texture, loving the feel of Lex’s muscles jumping under his hands. Ran his fingers all along the line of Lex’s waistband, even as he lazily licked his way there.
Lex hissed in another breath, arched his back, and Clark grinned. “I’ve wanted this for a very, very long time,” he whispered, unbuttoning the pants. “Wanted to see you like this since we first met, almost.”
Clark nipped Lex’s stomach, unzipped the pants and, with hands that only shook a very little, pulled them down over Lex’s lean hips. He looked up, and froze when he saw Lex’s face. Every tiny fraction of Lex’s attention was focused on him, and his eyes were…his eyes were liquid and on fire, and they were tracing the lines of Clark’s mouth like fingertips.
He hooked his fingers underneath the elastic of Lex’s boxers, and swallowed. “I’ve never done this before,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to Lex’s thigh. “I hope that I –”
“Clark,” Lex murmured, lips a warm, sweet curve that broke the tension in his face. “Anything you do will be perfect. Fuck, just…looking at you is almost enough.”
An answering smile crept onto Clark’s face, and he pulled the boxers down slowly, deliberately, kneeling in front of Lex. “Afterward, I want you to take me back the castle, and I want you to fuck me,” he whispered, eyes still locked with Lex’s.
Lex moaned something that sounded suspiciously like Clark’s name mingled with a tender expletive, and his head crashed back against the tile as his eyes shut and Clark grinned. Ran soothing hands over Lex’s trembling legs.
Lex’s cock was big, and dark, and wet at the tip. There was a thick blue vein that ran the length of it, and Clark wanted to touch it so…he did. Ran his finger up the shaft from base to tip, before flicking his thumb over the tip, rubbing the slit. Lex thrust forward involuntarily, cock brushing Clark’s cheek, and when Clark looked up, Lex’s face was contorted with something that looked very much like pain.
It would be cruel, Clark decided, to draw this out much longer, but he couldn’t resist flicking his tongue out, licking Lex all over with quick, firm strokes of his tongue. Mouthing messily before taking a deep breath and sucking the head into his mouth.
Lex groaned, loudly, and the people outside must be able to hear them, Clark thought, angling his neck and sucking a little harder as he slowly moved his head, letting more of Lex into his mouth. But the thought didn’t bother him, just made him harder, made him move faster, made him suck just a little harder.
He reached up, gripped Lex’s hips, and fucked his mouth on Lex’s cock as Lex moaned, head tossing from side to side.
“Shit, Clark, *goddamn* you’ve got a perfect mouth. Fucking *gifted*, going to stamp my name all over your fucking *ass*… Jesus, yeah, just like that…” Lex whispered, throatily, whimpering when Clark cupped his balls, ran his fingers over the skin behind them, pressing lightly.
“Can’t hold on much longer, Jesus…*Clark*,” he said, moving as though he wanted to touch Clark, but instead, he kept his hands up, over his head. And *God* that was hot, made Clark want to make this perfect – the best blowjob that Lex had ever had. The only one he’d remember years from now.
Made Clark try to take in as much as he could, even though it made him cough a little. He swallowed, trying to get rid of the tickling itch in the back of his throat and suddenly…Lex was all the way *in* there. Clark didn’t know how it had happened, but Lex seemed to like it, and his hips started to snap forward, frantically.
So Clark did it again, and again, until Lex’s eyes snapped open and he groaned Clark’s name and *came* in Clark’s mouth and Clark swallowed that, too, pulling off when Lex winced.
Stood up, and pulled Lex’s arms down, kissed him slow, and sweet and thorough, and rested his head against Lex’s as they both caught their breath.
“You are *amazing*,” Lex told him, thumb stroking over Clark’s cheekbone softly. “Don’t know how I didn’t molest you before now.”
“I think it was more like I molested you,” Clark teased, hands resting on Lex’s hips. “Want to go somewhere and molest *me*?”
“More than you can possibly imagine,” Lex growled, kissing him again – more like a statement of intent than anything else. A kiss that said, flat out, that Lex was going to fuck Clark senseless.
And neither Clark, nor his cock, had any problems with that. “Let’s get out of this damned bathroom,” Lex suggested, twining his fingers with Clark’s and pulling on the forgotten coffee stained shirt, buttoning it over the red marks that Clark had left all over Lex’s torso.
“Mine,” Clark said, reaching out and gently tracing one of them. Lex’s hand came up, trapping Clark’s where it was on his chest.
“No, *mine*,” Lex said, voice as serious as Clark had ever heard it. He raised Clark’s hands to his lips and kissed it, lips lingering on Clark’s palm and finished buttoning his shirt with the other hand.
Lex grabbed his coffee-stained jacket and unlocked the door, cracking it open enough to glance out before pulling Clark out, toward the door.
They were almost there when Lana’s voice called out, “Lex! There you are! You okay?”
“Better than okay,” Lex said, without turning, slanting Clark a grin. “Wonderful. Just have to go home and change.”
“Great,” Lana said, catching up. “Just wanted to ask you one more thing about this bathroom issue –” she began, before glancing down, noticing the entwined hands and raising an eyebrow. “The contractor said,” she began slowly, but Lex cut her off.
“I think it can wait, hmm?” he interrupted, eyes still on Clark. “I’ve got more important things to do.”
And Clark knew the grin on his face said everything, and he really didn’t care. Because this was, without a doubt, the best afternoon he’d ever, *ever* had.