By joan the english chick

Disclaimer: The characters and locations of "Smallville" are property of their owners, not mine, and are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is property of the author, and may not be reproduced, retransmitted, or posted anywhere without my expressed permission.
Warnings/Ratings: This story is rated NC-17 for explicit sexual situations and language.
Spoilers: Mild for "Nicodemus."

Lex straightened up, blinking just a little from head-rush, and looked critically at his handiwork. The colors, he thought vaguely, and had to pause to grasp at the thought as it drifted through his head. "The colors need work," he said aloud, taking his lower lip contemplatively between his teeth.

"*You* need work," said a voice behind him, so unexpected that he leapt sideways and made himself dizzy. Harsh panting from the shock made his throat hurt, so he reached down for his glass, and was annoyed to find it empty.

"Clark," he said, remembering. "Have you seen a bottle? About yea big." He tried to indicate with his hands, but the glass clutched in one hindered the effort. Damn useless empty glass.

"Uh, no." Clark came farther into the room, his eyes on the floor opposite. "But it looks like you've seen plenty of it."

Lex followed Clark's gaze. Oh yeah. His project. "My project. What do you think?" He put the glass down, sorrowfully. There had to be another bottle around here somewhere.

"This is a project?" God, how he loved that look on Clark's face, earnest and hopeful, like he really *wanted* to understand but just couldn't. Didn't. Yet. "I don't know, Lex," the boy continued, "it just looks to me like a bunch of pillows on the floor."

"Cushions," Lex corrected, and decided a demonstration was called for. He moved slowly to stand in front of Clark, facing him. "Push me."

"What?" Clark looked affronted. "Lex, I told you, it was just an act."

"Go ahead, do it," Lex urged. Suddenly, to be shoved across the room by Clark, not gently, was all he wanted out of life. Well, and maybe another not empty glass. "Come on, Clark, it's all part of the plan. It's a project."

"You're drunk," Clark said firmly, pushing his hands defiantly into his jeans pockets. Lex's eyes were drawn by the motion, down down down to the space between Clark's legs, the bulges that were his hands and, you know, other things.

"Okay," Lex shrugged, and fell over backward.

Or tried to, but then Clark was there, holding him up, big strong farm-boy hands wrapped around Lex's biceps. Warm. Clark's neck right in front of his eyes, the pulse just barely visible. I must be drunker than I thought, thought Lex, because he hadn't even seen Clark move forward to grab him. Alcohol, the nearness of Clark, and blood rushing groinward conspired to make Lex very dizzy. It seemed natural to put his hands on Clark's waist, steadying himself. He saw Clark register surprise, quickly concealed. Suddenly Lex felt pretty damn sober.

"You're miss-" Had to pause and clear his throat. "You're missing the point, Clark." Gentle pressure of his palms against Clark's abs. Warm, so lovely warm and solid, and Clark took the hint and let Lex go, disappointing him.

"What's the point, then?" Clark glanced down and quickly back up again, drawing attention to Lex's hands still on him. Lex pulled them back with a jerk, savoring the tightness in his pants.

"The cushions," said Lex, which wasn't at all a non-sequitur. Carefully, he took a step backward and then knelt -- oh bliss, kneeling in front of Clark, the obvious next step, unzip his jeans yes yes -- controlled himself, let himself fall back onto his ass, and then lay back farther, sprawling on the cushions, feeling the cold of the wall against his bare head. He reached up to adjust a cushion to fit between his head and the wall.

Looked up. Up, up at Clark's mouth-watering body, and away from Clark's hot stare of bewilderment and arousal. No, Lex must still be drunk, imagining things where they weren't. Clark wants that girl, whatsherface, we all know that.

"You put cushions on the floor so you could lie on them," Clark stated, making it a half-question. "This is weird even for you, Lex."

"Well." The colors were still wrong. These cushions would look much better with the contrasting tones of, say, Clark's naked body on top of them. No, bad Lex... "I just figured, I seem to spend so much time lately getting thrown against these walls, this floor. I ought to pad them for my own comfort."

Clark laughed, a beautiful sight. Oh, Lex wanted to see that again, from up close. "That sounds like the kind of logic that makes the most sense when you're drunk."

"You may be right," Lex mused calmly. The idea didn't upset him. "I've had worse ideas. But then, I've been drunker."

"I don't think drunker is a word," smiled Clark, moving forward a bit. Awkwardly, he lowered himself to the floor and sat beside Lex on the pile of pillows. Cushions. "Lex, I'm sorry about Pete."

"You don't have to apologize for him," Lex replied calmly. "He's your friend, he was under the influence, he wanted to protect you."

"Yeah." Clark looked away again, back again, and took a careful breath. "Uh, Lex?"

"Yes, Clark." God, virgin timidity had never been this sexy to Lex before. Lex wished he had another drink.

"When were you gonna tell me about the gay thing?" And now he was glad he didn't have another drink, because he would be choking on it at this moment.

"The - *what* gay thing?"

Clark gave him a stern 'don't give me that' look. Lex shivered with lust. "The you being gay thing," Clark said patiently.

"Who the hell told you I was gay?" Lex demanded, not so much angry as bewildered. He wondered whether this conversation would make more sense if he were sober. Or, alternatively, even more drunk. It was an idea.

"Gordon Levy."

Lex blinked. "Who?"

"He's this kid at school, a senior. He's gay. He said he saw you at some gay club in Metropolis."

Lex tried to assimilate this and couldn't. "He's a senior? You have to be twenty-one to get into most of those clubs." Oops, wait a minute....

But Clark ignored that. "Anyway, you've been flirting with me since the day we met." He was smirking. Clark was smirking? Lex blinked, tried to focus his eyes. Definitely a bit of smirk going on.

Wait, what had Clark just said? Flirting? "You noticed that? I mean-"

"Lex?"

Lex swallowed, breathed slowly. "Yes, Clark."

"Is that the bottle?"

"Huh?" Looked where Clark was pointing. Whaddaya know, there was the bottle, under a chair. "Whassit doing there?"

"Maybe you put it there when you were arranging the cushions."

Lex stretched out his arm, swiped at the bottle a couple of times, and finally got hold of it. Brought it to his mouth and took a swig. Whoa. Yeah, that was better.

He turned to find Clark still lounging beside him, now lying down, with his hands behind his head, watching Lex drink. "Wanna hit?"

"Uh, I'm not old enough to drink, Lex."

Lex rolled his eyes. "Right." Put the bottle down.

And rolled over on top of Clark.

Hard heat, like lying on a warm sheet of some unyielding metal. Steel, maybe. Yeah, man of steel. Clark's broad chest underneath him. Lex's legs tangling in Clark's, Lex's cock pressing against Clark's thigh but not, definitely not rubbing. No.

"Lex." A bare whisper, and he loved the sound of his name on Clark's tongue, liquidy and sibilant. Clark's wide eyes watching him, Clark's wide mouth murmuring his name.

"Yes, Clark."

"Are you gonna kiss me now?"

Lex shivered with desire. "I, uh, I was thinking about it."

Clark met his gaze head-on. "Please."

Lex groaned and bent his head down.

Warm. Soft. Clark's lips. Kissing Clark. Oh God. How, when did this happen? Lex was sprawled across Clark's chest, clutching Clark's upper arms -- hard muscle under silky skin, bliss at his fingertips -- licking Clark's lips, trying to coax them open. Whimpering softly. Feeling Clark's hands, tentative on Lex's waist.

"Clark." Lex licked Clark's lips again, tasted cinnamon, heard Clark's breathing loud in his ears.

"Wh-what?"

"Open your mouth."

Clark's eyes were huge. "Oh, I ... sorry."

Lex laughed breathlessly, dropped his hand to Clark's thigh. "Don't be sorry. Just ... do it." Hand rubbing. Clark gasping, arching up. Lex moved quickly to capture Clark's open mouth, tongue questing inside. Now it was Clark whimpering, his fingers twitching, bunching the fabric of Lex's shirt convulsively.

And then, with no transition whatsoever, Lex was in bed, alone. The silk sheets felt cold and lonely against his ... wait a minute ... bare skin? What the hell? He dragged open eyes that felt like they'd been glued shut, and saw Clark sitting on a chair beside the bed, frowning at a book.

"Clark?" His voice came out a croak -- a confused croak. And it reverberated like thunder in his skull. "Oh, fuck!" he whispered fervently.

Clark looked up at the sound of his name, and quickly reached over to the bedside table. "Here." He picked up a glass and held it out to Lex. "Drink this."

Lex pushed himself up on one elbow, groaning softly. Every movement, every tiniest noise seemed to make his head throb. "Shit." He took the glass, holding his breath as he recognized his cook's patented -- and disgusting -- hangover remedy. Bracing himself, he lifted the glass to his lips and drained it in a few gulps.

Made a horrible face, and looked over to see Clark watching him with concern. "Fuck, that's awful. Thanks, Clark."

"No problem." Clark took the glass back, a little awkwardly, not meeting Lex's eyes.

"Uh, what..." Memory came flooding back. "Oh my God, Clark ... did I pass out in the middle of kissing you?"

Deep red flushing up from Clark's neck, spreading across his face. Clark still didn't look at Lex. "Um, kind of, yeah."

"And I ... how did I..." The horrible concoction started its work, and Lex was able to sit up fully, only wincing a little. And piece things together. "You carried me here? Put me to bed?"

"Yeah, well, I couldn't just leave you there. The cook said you'd wake up pretty soon, so I hung around." Clark eyed Lex curiously. "Are, are you okay?"

"Getting there. By the way, Clark, I can't help noticing that I'm naked."

The blush was back in full force. "Uh. Um, well."

"Out with it." Lex had a pretty good idea what probably happened, but he wanted to hear Clark say it. Really, really wanted to hear dirty talk out of that clean-cut farmboy mouth.

"You, uh, kind of passed out on top of me, Lex."

"Right...." And Clark's face said it all, an open book. Lex could easily imagine himself in Clark's place, all worked up from his first serious gay kiss, covered in a blanket of unconscious older man. "Were you frustrated?" Lex coaxed softly, prompting the fierce return of the blush.

"Uh, well, yeah. So I brought you up here and, um, I was just curious."

Lex nodded. "So you took off my clothes and put me to bed. And then?" God, it was just too cute the way Clark bit his lips and looked everywhere but at Lex.

"I, uh, um, I went in the bathroom, uh...."

"Say it, Clark."

Clark took a deep breath. "mumble off," was what it sounded like he said.

"What?"

"I jerked off, okay? Well, you were passed out!" Clark cried defensively, glaring at Lex. Lex fought back a grin and settled for pursing his lips, nodding slowly.

"You shouldn't have done that, Clark." Oh, yes, and that would be the kicked-puppy look. Lex felt like he knew all of Clark's looks, and they all turned him on.

"I, what?"

"Would've liked to see that. Oh well, the surveillance cameras will have caught it." Lex managed, just barely, to hold his poker face for a moment, taking in Clark's expression of mingled horror and arousal.

"You-" If Clark's face could get any redder, it would probably show up on infrared scans. Lex lost it, let his face collapse into a grin and snickered helplessly for a moment.

"Oh Clark, I'm kidding. Christ. Come here."

Pulled back the sheet, exposing his naked body. Patted the bed beside him. Drank in the sight of Clark wearing a whole new expression, one he had never shown Lex before. This one was curiosity and apprehension, arousal and ... and a bit of that smirk from earlier. Whoa.

"Are you gonna kiss me again?" Clark asked coyly. His gaze dipped down to skim across Lex's erect cock, and Lex shivered a little, practically feeling that gaze as something tactile.

"You better fucking believe it," Lex choked out, and before he had finished the sentence Clark was there, sliding onto the bed beside him. Lex pushed Clark down on the mattress and lay down next to him, pressing his naked self against Clark's side. Thrust fingers hard into Clark's hair and pulled his head around for a fierce kiss.

Clark was starting to get it, obviously. His tongue came out to play this time, twisting around Lex's teasingly. His hand dropped onto Lex's hip and then jerked back, as if startled by the bare flesh. Lex sucked Clark's tongue into his mouth and drank in the helpless little noises Clark was making, squeaks and squeals of pleasure.

Lex wrenched himself away then, with an effort. "Okay, how long was I out?" he gasped, admiring Clark's half-lidded, lust-drugged eyes, his heaving chest, his kiss-swollen lips.

"Um..." The bulge in Clark's jeans showed where the blood had gone, nearly robbing him of all brain function. "Uh, not long, maybe half an hour."

"Good," Lex breathed, "so it shouldn't be long before you're ready again."

Clark twitched and groaned at the words, throwing his head back against the pillow. "Oh God, Lex...."

"Yes...." Lex crooned, grinning, nuzzling in to lick the side of Clark's neck, his throat. "But first, it's my turn."

"Wha..." Clark trailed off as Lex took hold of his hand and pulled it downward. "Oh..."

"Come on, Clark. Do me like you did yourself." Lex curled Clark's fingers around his own cock. Clark gasped, craning his chin to look down, staring at the head of Lex's cock poking out from Clark's fist.

"Oh my G-" Clark cut himself off abruptly, his hand beginning to move. Lex arched his hips up, thrusting, fucking himself into Clark's hand. Clark's thumb swiped across the head and down, using Lex's pre-cum to lubricate the shaft as he stroked it.

"Harder," Lex gasped, and Clark's hand tightened and moved faster, and Lex's hips pressed upward urgently, and Lex sank his teeth into Clark's flannel-clad shoulder and climaxed, shuddering, groaning muffled into a mouthful of fabric.

Slowly he regained himself, loosened his jaw and pulled back. Clark was staring at him, eyes a little glazed. Lex stretched out his neck to brush his mouth over Clark's, then pulled back again.

Clark lifted his hand away and stared at it for a moment, covered in Lex's come. Thoughtfully, he lifted it to his lips and poked out his tongue, tasting. Lex moaned brokenly and pulled back, rolling onto his back to stare weakly at the ceiling.

"Uh, Lex?" Clark's voice was tentative, almost worried. Lex looked over at him.

"Yes, Clark?"

"You're not gonna pass out again, are you?"

Lex chuckled softly. "Arrogant now, are we?" Predictably, the blush began to spread across Clark's face again. "No, Clark. I'm just gathering my strength. I have big plans for you."

Clark smiled, sunny, wicked, beautiful. "Okay," he said. "But I have to be home by eleven."