My Funny Valentine
Pairing: Clark/Lucas, implied Clark/other, and implied Lucas/other
Archive: Please ask.
Feedback: Sure! Send to firstname.lastname@example.org
Disclaimer: This story is for entertainment only. It is not for profit. Smallville is the property of Alfred Gough, Miles Millar, Tollin-Robbins Productions, and Warner Bros. Television, and based upon characters originally created by Jerome Siegel and Joe Shuster.
It's a February evening and it's cold in the hayloft, but he knows it's his tongue that makes Clark's nipples stand at attention. He smiles to himself as he licks a nub and then bites it, causing Clark to gasp and buck into him hard enough that they almost fall over.
His head is tilted slightly downward as if he were looking at his feet, so he gets a faceful of Clark's chest. He breathes in deeply, desperate to capture as much of Clark's scent as he can, barely aware of the long, large fingers squeezing his ass. He draws back reluctantly from the smooth skin and his hands scrabble at the opened flannel shirt to push it back and then down so that it bunches around thick wrists. Clark takes over and frantically shakes off the shirt, letting it fall to the wooden floor.
His eyes widen when hungry lips mash up against his and he opens his mouth to welcome the invading tongue, which he quickly overpowers with a long, hard suck that makes Clark squeak. When Clark presses forward, he slowly disengages and pulls back with a smirk, savoring his first taste of the younger man's mouth.
"Lucas," Clark's face looms close, "kiss me again."
The urgency in Clark's voice sparks a flare of triumph that makes his cock twitch, and he gives Clark a smug grin. "I will. But you have to earn it." He reaches for the top button of his own pants as he nods at Clark's waist. "Take off your jeans."
He keeps his hands where they are and watches Clark obey. "Good boy." He nods again. "The boxers, too."
"Lucas . . ." Completely exposed, Clark fidgets as Lucas' eyes sweep over him.
He doesn't hear Clark's plea. "God. Just like a statue. And you're uncut." He leans forward and brushes an insolent hand against Clark's cock, then fondles a hip, a rock-hard buttock. Lex is so damn lucky.
"Kiss me?" Clark leans forward as he snakes a long arm around Lucas' waist.
"Not yet, Clark." He stares for a couple of seconds into pleading eyes to establish that he's still the boss. "Undress me."
When he sees Clark reach for the zipper of his pants, he barks, "First my shirt."
Clark eagerly unbuttons the shirt and takes a step closer to drag it down and off Lucas' arms. He knows Clark will try to steal a kiss, and he jerks his head back just in time. He narrows his eyes.
"Clark, I said: You have to earn it. If you don't like the rules, you don't have to play the game."
"Just one--" He shudders as Clark slides a finger down his navel.
"No. Later. Now take off my pants."
Clark drops to his knees and quickly unbuttons the waistband and opens the fly. He yanks down the slacks.
He feels Clark's aroused gasp on his groin. "No underwear. Just like Lex." His cock twitches violently when Clark nuzzles it. He looks down through eyes half-clouded with desire.
"Enough talk, Clark. And since you insist on mentioning my brother, show me what it is you do to put that silly smile on his face."
He's about to say more but gives up immediately when the hot wetness of Clark's mouth envelops him, and he groans instead.
"Mmm," he hears - feels - Clark moan, and the vibrations travel through his cock and into his groin. That's all it takes, and he's hard.
A flash of pleasure when a voracious tongue swirls around the head of his cock, and then he's grabbing Clark's hair and scooting them slowly towards a nearby mound of hay-bales. And a second later, when he knows Clark can't move back any farther, he starts pumping his hips rhythmically, each shove driving him deeper into that incredible mouth and slamming the back of Clark's head against the densely compacted hay.
Clark moans loudly again, and he suspects it's not a protest, knows it isn't when the eager throat opens up to take more of him in. He's completely sure Clark's enjoying this when he looks down and sees how the younger man fondles himself, strokes himself to make his own cock longer and harder as he feels Lucas growing in his mouth.
Clark looks so beautiful on his knees, jacking himself off, mouth filled to capacity, and Lucas knows that it'll be over too soon. One hand on top of Clark's head, he pistons his hips furiously, eliciting from Clark throaty moans that float up into the ceiling of the loft. He listens to the muted, rhythmic thuds as Clark's head slaps against the bales with each merciless hip-thrust, and then, as if they had rehearsed this down to split-second precision, they both give in and come: he, with a sharp, hoarse cry; Clark, with a prolonged, muffled bellow.
Fascinated, he watches through glazed eyes as Clark gulps furiously, hungrily, all the while pumping his hand around his swollen cock. When the pleasurable suction becomes an uncomfortable vise, he grabs Clark's head and pulls out of that insatiable mouth with a wet pop.
"Nice. Very nice," he croaks as he hauls Clark up to a standing position. "I suppose you expect me to be your valentine now," he says with as much irony as he can. He nips a well-shaped jaw and draws Clark closer. "Well, that's Lex's job."
Clark doesn't reply; instead, he clamps his beautiful, just-been-fucked lips on Lucas' mouth to claim the kiss he has earned.
He thrusts his tongue into Clark's eager mouth and tastes himself. He savors this for a while as he runs his hands up and down a warm, broad back, and only when he desperately needs air does he reluctantly draw back.
"That was really hot, the way you just grabbed my head and fucked my mouth," Clark purrs, licking his ear. "Incredible."
"Yeah," he replies. And then just because it makes Clark's grin falter, if only for a second, he adds, "Lex really loves it when I do that."