As with so many of Lex's impulse acts of rebellion against his father, his decision to turn down his father's "generous" offer of a position at the shit factory for a lowly teaching position at Smallville High is about to blow up quite spectacularly in his face.
Lord knows why the cautious people of Smallville let him near their children. Hope springs eternal, Lex must suppose. Hope that the son will not mimic the father. That the apple has fallen somewhat farther than the hollowed-out tree.
'Here's another hope dashed,' Lex thinks as he spreads the Kent boy out beneath him. The pink pucker of the boy's untried hole is doubtlessly not the traditional 'apple for the teacher', but it's a gift all the same.
And a curse. If Lex were a different man, he could maybe resist the temptation of Clark's wide, trusting eyes and smiles of affection, his near reverent admiration and obvious crush.
Then again, if Lex were a different man, maybe Clark would not have ended up bent over Lex's desk one late hour when the rest of the school is empty and outside the glow of Lex's desk lamp, his classroom is completely dark.
"Are you sure about this, Clark?" Lex asks, trying to channel that good man who he is not.
"Yes! Please, M- Lex, please, I'm sure. I want this, please..."
"Alright..." Lex is not a good man and so he probes the entrance to Clark's body with one slick finger, readying the boy for his cock.
"Oh, Mr. Luthor!" Clark cries out when Lex breaches him up to the knuckle, forgetting to call Lex by his name as he's been told. Lex's dick jerks in response. A part of him wants to play up the kinkiness of the situation, to push that envelope as far as he can take it, while the other wants to calm himself down before he ends up pushing this virgin farther than he needs to go.
Lex wrestles with his control long enough to get three fingers into Clark and fully stretch the boy for what comes next.
Clark is begging for more by the time that Lex says, "Give me your hands, Clark."
Clark's immediate, unquestioning obedience - pulling his arms around behind him, leaving his front flush to the top of Lex's desk, his cheek pressed to the wood - sends a thrill of pure, possessive lust through Lex and he can hold back no longer. He lines the slick head of his cock up with Clark's hole and pushes in just that first inch before grasping Clark by his forearms.
Clark is squirming. Lex owes the boy at least a reach-around for being given this privelege - has probably been asked for it several times now, but Lex can't hear words through the distracting sounds of Clark's panting and the rush of Lex's own blood in his ears.
Regardless, when Lex asks, "Are you ready, Mr. Kent?" (in the same tone of voice that he might have asked for Clark's homework) Clark shudders all over and all but yells, "Yes! Oh, Lex, oh, sir, please, please, do-"
The 'sir' does it. Lex grabs Clark tight and drives home, seating himself fully inside of the boy with one long, stuttering thrust.
The sound Clark makes, a moan that would echo through the room except that Clark bites down on his lips and does his best to swallow it, pulls an answering groan more like a growl out of Lex's throat and he is pounding into Clark must sooner, much harder than he probably should.
Clark writhes beneath him. He whimpers and begs for more, for friction, for anything. Lex keeps him waiting until the very last minute, giving Clark what Lex believes to be the most valuable lesson of any young man's education - that if you don't take care of yourself, then you are essentially entrusting your happiness to another man's mercy.
Luckily for Clark, Lex can be merciful. Knowing that he can't last much longer, Lex shifts one hand to Clark's hip, pulling the boy back towards him, and giving himself room to take Clark's weeping dick into the palm of his other hand.
Clark practically sobs with relief.
"That's right, Clark... That's good. That's very good, Mr. Kent. Let go for me. That's an order, young man..."
Clark bucks so hard into Lex's fist, and then back onto Lex's cock, as he comes, that he nearly bucks Lex off of him.
Lex drinks in his cries and relishes the warm release that covers his hand.
"Good boy," he says a final time, and let's himself shoot into Clark's still spasming hole with a drawn-out groan of completion.
It's one of the hottest, stupidest, most life-changing experiences of Lex's young life.
And though it won't get him fired right away, it will raise questions about who he is - about what he is - and about just how he managed to rip fist-sized chunks out of the edge of his desk that Clark had grabbed as Lex finished with him.