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Lex's Late Night Surprise

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Lex's Late Night Surprise

by Artemis

http://www.livejournal.com/users/artemisraine/


Rating: NC-17
Disclaimers: I don't own the pretty boys or their friends in the Smallville or Batman universes. If I did, the CLex would be riftless and eternally in love. Spoilers: Season 1 - 2.
Summary: Lex comes home after a late night at work and gets a surprise. Champagne, ribbon, and a pretty naked boy. A PWP with a few hints of plot. Warning: Same Sex (MALE/MALE) relationship. If this turns you off or offends, go back now. Minor bondage. Very tame. NOTE I: SPOILERS AHEAD. DO NOT READ IF YOU WANT TO READ THE STORY UNSPOILED. Crap. This was supposed to be a straight out PWP. The idea was dancing in my head on my birthday and I was trying to get over a bout of writer's block, so I thought I'd try my hand at my first PWP. I didn't mean to add so much detail or background information...so consider yourself forewarned that it got a little plot-y. Also, I was NOT going to bring Bruce into it, but that darn blue-eyed, dark-haired hottie slipped in anyway. Sigh. Believe it or not, I can write CLex without bringing the Wayne heir into the picture. Just not this fic. What can I say? I like Lex having more friends in the world than Clark. Additional note and credit to ingrid at the end. February 2004.


Lex's Late Night Surprise
By Artemis
February 2004


Lex opened the door to the penthouse, nodding once to Mercy to let her know that everything was fine and to go back to bed.

He was never sure how she always knew when he came in for the night. Maybe Hope called her from the office, or knowing the degrees of freakishness in the world---or at least in Kansas---maybe it was some ESP talent that he was unaware of. Either way, the blond gave him an odd smile, one that had just the faintest edge of a smirk, before turning around and moving in the direction of her apartment. Her usual whispered good night floated in the air as he slipped quietly through the door, maneuvering his way in the dark through the lower level.

He made a quick stop into his study, dropping off his briefcase and riffling through his mail swiftly. Nothing jumped out at him as immediate, so he set everything back on his desk to be looked at tomorrow. One in the morning was too late to be dealing with anything that wasn't imperative.

After turning off the small lamp on his desk, he was enveloped back into darkness, but years of living in these rooms granted him a familiarity and confidence to make his way without a light. He spared a thought for the kitchen, but dismissed it immediately. Anna would have left something for him in the refrigerator as usual, but as usual he was going to skip it and go straight to bed. Between a choice of sleep or food, he would choose sleep, though it wouldn't win him any points with the staff tomorrow.

As much as he liked not having the hired help fear him, it was annoying that they sent him pitying looks of disapproval over something as trivial as his eating or work habits. He'd fire them all for impudence if competent people---and more importantly, loyal people---weren't so damn hard to find.

He padded up the stairs, silent as cat, not even paying attention to the second level and going directly up to the third floor and the master bedroom. He slipped off his jacket, folding it over his right arm as he used his left hand to loosen his tie. Weariness tugged at his body and mind, and he wanted nothing more than to just slip into bed and fall asleep immediately. He found himself coming to a complete stop instead, hand gripping the doorway of his bedroom, shock coursing through his veins like ice water as he snapped into alertness. He blinked, stunned at the sight before him.

Dozens and dozens of candles were lit all around the room, casting a soft yellow glow upon the objects in the room. Shadows flickered as the flames danced, and in the middle of the huge bed the light played upon the bare skin and sleek muscles of an angel.

An angel that was bound up in a hopeless tangle of lavender ribbon.

A grin tugged at Lex's lips as he crept quietly in the room. He toed off his shoes near the closet, and he folded his jacket and his tie over the nearby chair. He slowly stripped as he made his way to the bed, his pale blue dress shirt and white undershirt dropped on the floor heedlessly, the sight of all that glowing skin keeping his eyes pinned there. As he got within a few feet of the still figure, closer scrutiny of the immediate area---which was surrounded by candles both lit and gutted out---wrenched his heart and caused a melancholy smile to bloom on his face.

He must have been waiting for hours.

A pretty raven-haired boy was lying in his bed, their bed, his dark head resting on emerald green silk pillowcases; Clark's magnificent body still holding that coltish lean build that he was forever bemoaning about. Though how he or his people were supposed to know what the effects of the planet's unique magnetic forces combined with years of radiation of an even more unique yellow sun would do to a Kryptonian child was beyond Lex. Especially when it came to how it would stunt said child's cellular maturity to leave him frozen as that pretty youth he'd first seen across the windshield of a silver-blue Porsche.

The peak of youthful blush, with the lush beauty of childhood gilded by the shadow of adulthood. Not that Clark saw it that way, nor would he appreciate the poetic waxing slant of Lex's thoughts.

The body more man than child, and the mind more child than man. Lex cherished those four years in Smallville despite all the heartache and fights because in some ways Clark had been more Clark then, in that time of his life, than in any time afterwards. Before the boy got wrapped up in the ideals and dreams of both his fathers, demands that he conform to a life he'd neither wanted nor desired.

Lex reached out, his hand skimming lightly over high cheekbones and a sharp jaw line, not quite touching yet still able to feel the heat emanating from that perfect form.

Pretty boy who would always be just as pretty and just as boyish, even as the shadows of the adult rippled beneath the skin like a shadow-beast.

Not that Lex was one to point fingers. He'd been picked for the same dubious fate, though it was through Kryptonite radiation catalyzed by the combined forces of both yellow sun and Earth, granting the silent wishes of a sick child who'd yearned with his all heart to never get sick again, to no longer be afraid or weak, and to not have the hated red hair. All traits his father had scorned.

He had no cause to complain, not if he was going to be granted this sight for the rest of his life, however long it might be. Not even if he had to watch decade after decade pass, millennia after millennia march by as people he knew withered and died, blooming and dying like hot house flowers while he remained untouched by time.

Honestly? The thought of eternity, when he really thought about it, scared the shit out of him. Not to mention what he and Clark were going to do when it became obvious that they weren't getting any older. As it was, their youthful looks were attributed to good genes and whispered rumors of cosmetic surgery miracles that only the wealthiest in the world could buy. Changes in clothing and hair, make up, and the like would eventually only go so far, and not even the might of a Luthor's wealth would protect them if anyone got it into their head that they were the key to perpetual youth.

He might have to take a page out of the "Highlander" book and have both of them disappear for a while and then reappear as their own grandchildren or something, if not come back with entirely new names. Or not come back at all. Disappear completely from Kansas, maybe the United States, and become wanderers traveling the world. Planting themselves somewhere for a couple of decades and then moving on. Or finding some out-of-the-way wilderness where he and Clark could live happy and naked (if they so wished), retreating from humanity all together.

However that was a long time in the future and something he didn't want to contemplate right now. Not when he had such a lovely tableau in front of him.

The highest concentration of candles was around the bed, covering every available surface, and the faint light and flickering shadows cast valleys onto Clark's musculature, even as it made his skin radiate with warmth. A dark fan of lashes rested on soft cheeks, a few errant strands of messy dark hair marring his forehead, an endearing raven mop Lex never tired of seeing. Coffee-dark nipples on a smooth chest, one any young male model would envy, moved up and down slowly as Clark's chest rose in slow time with his breathing.

A small stand had been set up near the bed; a silver bowl heaped with strawberries, as well as two fluted glasses and a champagne bottle, ready and waiting. There was another champagne bottle on the floor lying on its side.

An exasperating fondness filled Lex as his eyes took in the purple ribbon, the champagne and strawberries, not to mention the insane number of candles, and a story unfolded in his mind.

Clark coming home, preparing for a surprise seduction, that naughty I-have-my-hand-in-the-cookie-jar smile on his face, which looked so damn adorable on the poster boy for good boys. Setting out the bowl of strawberries and the champagne, lighting the candles, and then stripping with that breathtaking innate grace Clark had once thought he'd never grow into. He would have slipped between the silk sheets, a particular kink of Clark's when he had seduction in mind, his sensitive skin tingling on the smooth cool sheets, getting excited as he always did around silk, that beautiful cock hardening as the younger man waited in anticipation. Just luxuriating in the feel of silk, the occasional undulation or wiggle with those throaty little moans that made Lex shiver inside and out.

Lex had gone through a lot of silk underwear during Clark's teen years. If Clark hadn't been stealing them to wear himself, he'd been tearing them off Lex in his excitement. Not that Lex had objected. For Clark, Lex would buy new silk boxers on a weekly basis if it meant making him happy.

There were some weeks when he did. Despite the looks from the housekeeper when he added that item to the weekly shopping list, those were very good weeks.

On this night, though, Clark wasn't wearing a thing. Except for that pale purple ribbon.

Lex felt a pang in his heart. He could just see it. Clark waiting, excited and nervous, and as hour after hour passed, drooping more and more. He would've started playing with the ribbon on the bed, trying to drape it on himself in a sexy manner, redoing it over and over as more and more time went by. Finally, he would have decided to just open one of the bottles of champagne. He would have been pouting, a pretty sulk in those amazing green eyes as Clark tried to tell himself that Lex would be home any minute. So he'd open the champagne. Maybe have one glass while he waited.

His Clark had no alcoholic tolerance.

Lex found it sappily endearing. The younger man's alien physiology made him more susceptible to alcohol, and he became tipsy very easily. As he became inebriated, he turned into a giggly and mischievous imp. This usually meant that Clark wanted to drink more, his silly alien brain cells telling him that he liked the dizzy, lighted-headed fuzziness it was enjoying and that more alcohol was a good thing.

Plus, Clark would've been thinking that Lex was working late again so he would have wanted to offset the disappointment by having just one more glass. Because the first one made him feel better.

So he would've had another and another, and maybe he would play with the ribbon some more, tangling it all over his body until he'd finally dropped the empty bottle on the floor and curled up to sleep in a drowsy alcoholic stupor.

It was a good thing that alien biology also meant an almost impossibly fast metabolism, which translated to no hangover. Not that they'd ever tested that to its fullest. Lex didn't exactly want to induce alcohol poisoning just to find out what would happen to Kryptonian physiology under those circumstances.

He let a low breath and closed his eyes. Sometimes he really hated his job. Hated that it took him away from Clark. Hated that it sometimes snared his attention so completely he forgot what was important.

Nothing was more important than Clark.

Things were going to have to change. Options flipping through his mind at fantastic speeds, he mulled over what his course of action would be. When his decision was made, he opened his eyes to feast on all the skin that wasn't covered, his mind lighter and turning to more base and immediate concerns. He unbuckled his belt, letting his pants and his boxers fall to the carpet. Reaching down to pull off his socks, he came back up and crawled across the bed on all fours in a slow predatory stalk.

He positioned himself over Clark, his knees on the outside of strong thighs, his hands just a few inches from broad shoulders. He leaned forward, lowering his body until it was just above Clark's, so that he could feel the body heat and presence of the boy just soak into him.

'No, man,' he reminded himself as he moved his head just a bit, close enough that he flicked his tongue out, lapping at full, lush lips that looked mulberry in the dim lighting.

He hummed in the back of his throat as the faint taste of champagne and strawberries mixed with the essence and taste of Clark exploded on his tongue. He leaned a little closer, nibbling on that sinful mouth as he settled his weight on one elbow so he could raise his left hand to plunge into dark strands of hair.

He let out a little moan as his fingers wove into exquisite softness. His own kink. And it was exclusive to Clark because the boy's hair was softer than threads of the finest silk. Lex was convinced every person on the planet was an idiot if they couldn't tell the boy wasn't human just by touching his hair.

Not that he would let anyone get that close to Clark to touch.

But if he did allow it, they would find the strands inhumanly soft. Impossibly soft, especially for thick wavy hair that tended to curl when it was wet. Or styled, but Clark rarely let anyone close enough to do that to him, pouting and claiming it looked girly, glaring at any hair stylist that dared to disagree with him. No, in a normal human, such hair would be thicker and as a result slightly coarse. It would frizz in the summer humidity of Kansas, and it would require some serious gel to be kept manageable during those hot months.

Clark's hair, on the other hand, was softer than the most expensive, sheerest silks. As downy soft as the fur of a kitten, the dark strands felt impossibly thin despite how thick they were in actuality.

He carded his fingers through that hair, letting the strands fall through his fingers slowly and steadily, the way he knew Clark liked. He nudged full---and now damp---lips open, slipping his tongue in and deepening the kiss. He nearly collapsed onto the warm chest below him, surprising himself at the pleasure that spiraled through his body as he tasted Clark.

It was the same every time, and it startled him every time. The pleasure never dimmed, always as bright and fresh as that first time, tasting so much like home it made him want to laugh and cry simultaneously.

He smiled slightly, still kissing Clark, as he felt the body beneath him stir. A high whining noise emerged, lips starting to slowly and sluggishly move against his own, Clark's tongue lapping leisurely against his own.

Lex braced himself on his knees, rising slightly and letting go of that luxurious hair, but still kissing Clark. He let his hands trail down warm solid arms, the feel of the satiny ribbon making his lips tug up again in a half-smile. He drew his hands down until he reached Clark's wrists and latched onto them, slowly bringing Clark's arms up with his hands until both were over their heads.

He mouthed a path up to set a soft kiss on Clark's right cheek, the boy's eyes still closed. He made his way down, nibbling softly on a strong, clean line of jaw. He licked once, playfully, the feel of soft smooth skin making him picture Clark showering and shaving, preparing himself just for Lex.

Always for Lex.

A surge of possessiveness swept through him, a part of his mind chanting 'Mine, mine, mine'. Not exactly the most sterling part of his nature, but one in which he had long become accustomed to in regards to Clark Kent. Blue eyes drank in the sight of the beautiful man-boy in front of him, dark eyelashes fluttering as eyes fought to open against the strong grip of sleep. He backed off slightly, and after a few moments of lethargic stirring and some murmuring noises, Clark settled back into slumber.

His fingers picked at the ribbon along lean, muscular arms, the cloth winding around shoulders and down both arms and chest. Lex traced his fingers lightly on the slippery satin strip, which was about two-fingers wide and wound all the way along Clark's torso and thighs, a sloppy bow around his stomach and over his navel.

There was no way Lex was going to easily unravel it.

He'd always loved a challenge.

He noticed out of the corner of his right eye that a second spool of ribbon was peeking out beneath one of the pillows, the empty one long noted on the floor next the empty bottle of champagne, and he wondered in amusement why Clark had bought so much. But then again, Clark was a big boy. Maybe he hadn't been sure how much wrapping his "present" was going to need.

Lex smirked, plucking the spool up. He looked around for a pair of scissors or something that would cut, but seeing none he decided to improvise. It wasn't like the extra ribbon would hurt anything. He quickly unwound the ribbon, tossing the empty cardboard spool onto the floor and casting a contemplative eye at his spouse.

He moved slowly over Clark, crawling carefully over him once again and tsking quietly as he saw that one of the arms had been drawn down onto defined pecs. He clasped onto the errant wrist, pulling it slowly up, and pressed a kiss to the abandoned skin right above one nipple. His tongue darted out since it was in the area, teasing, his mouth playing with the tiny pebble of flesh. His hands were busy over his head, looping ribbon around Clark's wrists and winding it around the posts of the headboard. As his hands went about securing his present, he nuzzled his way to the right, nosing aside lavender silk to lave attention on the matching nipple.

Clark stirred, wriggling in sleepy-contented pleasure, a softly breathed "Lex" sighed out like a prayer.

Happiness blossomed in Lex's stomach, hot and hard, a happiness that belonged only to Clark. The core of him diamond-hard and brilliant, every facet reflecting Clark. If anyone looked deep enough, hard enough, if they could peel away all the layers of personality and self, they would find one thing.

Clark.

Lex placed a tender kiss on a wet nipple, peaked and hard. Then he placed another kiss in the middle of that sonnet-worthy chest, closing his eyes as he placed his cheek in that same spot, imagining the beating hearts that lay beneath.

He felt a silly grin slip onto his face as he remembered how freaked out Clark had gotten when he'd learned about Kryptonian physiology. It had taken Lex three days to calm the panicky boy that having two hearts didn't make him a freak or a monster.

Lex really should have been the alien. He would have handled it much better, and he would have been enthusiastically excited about learning everything pertaining to his alien heritage, including his very different anatomy. Though, in Clark's defense, it hadn't helped that the Kents had raised him to believe he was a human boy. They'd never admit it, but Lex was sure they felt at least a sliver of regret for that deception.

Simply put, it had fucked up Clark monumentally. It had taken over a decade for the boy to accept that he was from another planet and that being an alien didn't make him anything less, as if his intrinsic value was decreased because he wasn't human. It had also taken Lex that long to boost Clark's wavering self-confidence, his nearly non-existent feelings of self-worth, and his dismal self-image. Between the ingrained Kent guilt complex and Clark's own subconscious---sometimes conscious---belief that there was something inherently wrong with him, Lex had had his work cut out for him.

Yes, Clark had been fucked up but good.

It was one reason they got along so well. Lionel had pulled an equally spectacular job mind-fucking him as well. He understood being fucked up and hadn't held Clark to any ideals of what he should be. He knew normal didn't exist except in the minds of petty judgmental bigots.

Lex was eternally grateful to his father that Lionel had exiled him to Smallville. He couldn't imagine what Clark would have become if the boy hadn't had someone to push him to accept his Kryptonian heritage as something to be proud of, that it was something to explore with delight and joy. To tell him repeatedly that he didn't have to hide himself away from the world, from his friends, and even from himself. That he didn't have to isolate himself both mentally and physically like he was an inhuman arbitrator separate from the world and human society.

Lex nuzzled his cheek into that smooth strong chest, comforting that young Clark who'd been so screwed up emotionally and psychologically.

Dr. Chase Meridan, one of Bruce's many sexual conquests and a trusted friend of the Wayne heir, had also been a tremendous help during those early years. Lex wasn't a big proponent of counseling, mostly stemming from trust issues of past therapists who'd been on the payroll of either his father or one of LuthorCorp's rivals, but Dr. Meridan had been highly recommended by his childhood friend as someone both discreet and trustworthy. As the blue-eyed CEO had pointed out, she was Batman's therapist, at least occasionally, and she'd never betrayed the Dark Knight.

Lex leaned back on his haunches, looking down in satisfaction at his work. He nudged Clark's thighs apart gently, settling between them comfortably as he caressed long, muscular thighs with intimate familiarity in slow, sure strokes.

He slid his hands up lean hips and a trim waist, even as he moved down to kiss and nibble above and below that silly, droopy bow Clark had tied, tonguing the hollows of a clearly defined six-pack. He mouthed his way up, spending time circling dark nipples, smiling against warm skin as Clark made keening noises and wiggled into the sheets in slow, sleep-heavy movements. Moving up a long, graceful neck and nipping at Clark's chin once, Lex spent extra time paying homage to lush lips made for kissing.

Made for Lex to kiss.

His hands were busy, feather-light caresses along bare skin, petting muscles and then kneading broad shoulders. He tilted his head slightly, lapping at petal soft lips, nudging them open to swoop in and languish with tongue and teeth in a gentle possession. Blue eyes closed as Lex poured himself into the kiss, dismissing work and the world outside the walls of their bedroom, concentrating only on the beautiful form of his husband.

Pleasuring his husband. If there was one thing Lex Luthor knew, it was how to give pleasure with his body. And there was no one who deserved pleasure more than his Clark.

Lex wasn't sure how much time had passed before Clark began kissing him back, tongue moving haltingly and clumsily. Not yet fully awake. He feasted instead on the taste of Clark in his mouth, the feel of Clark underneath his fingertips and palms. He rubbed his body slowly, body against body, a gentle undulation of hip against hip, cock against cock. He felt Clark stiffening slowly, growing harder, and his body rocked into a familiar rhythm ingrained into their bodies after years of making love.

"Lex," Clark sighed the moment Lex drew his head up from the leisurely kissing he'd initiated.

Lex opened his eyes, lips drawing up into a tender smile as puppy-big eyes blinked at him sleepily. Drowsy content shone from those eyes, mostly dark inky pools ringed in green, pupils dilated from the low lighting and from slowly fanned desire.

He leaned up, kissing the tip of Clark's nose briefly, his hands moving up from Clark's shoulders to thread into dark strands, gently massaging as he pressed soft dry kisses all over Clark's face. Along those high cheekbones, lower in the hollows of those cheeks, along the jaw, up to both temples, and on both eyelids that were now closed, the black lashes tickling Lex's skin. The older man pressed one last kiss on Clark's forehead before moving to press his cheek against Clark's, cheek-to-cheek nuzzling as he whispered, his voice was low and velvety, a verbal caress.

"Hi, honey. I'm home."

"Mmmmm..." Clark hummed, his pleasure emanating from within and spilling into Lex from all the attention.

Lex unwound one hand from Clark's head, ignoring the whine of protest and displeasure that he received, and tugged lightly at a ribbon that was wound around one shoulder. He leaned back enough to be able to look down into Clark's face and tsked lightly. "It seems as if someone got themselves all tangled up."

Black lashes fluttered open, confusion shining back, until eyes opened wide as memory seeped back into lust-sleepy brain cells.

Lex smirked. Clark always was easily distracted by sex. Not that he was much better. Who could blame him when he had someone like Clark as his partner?

He frowned slightly, as Chloe's voice piped in, a repeated comment from the annoying blonde pointing out that they were always gazing longingly at each other like star-struck teenagers in the first throes of love. Completely infatuated with each other. He snorted mentally at the voice, telling past-Chloe to shut up. He'd never acted like some moony-eyed teenager in his entire life.

So what if he had a hard time keeping his hands to himself when Clark was in the room? He'd had to keep his hands to himself for years before he'd been allowed to touch. He was just making up for lost time.

Lex concentrated back onto his prize, sliding both his hands up captive arms to tug at the bound wrists. He leaned forward, rubbing against Clark's stomach suggestively, and spoke in a rough voice. "Be a good boy and I'll make you come so hard you'll see stars."

"Lex..."

Lex smirked as those pretty eyes got even wider. He watched as that dark head jerked up in surprise, finally getting it, huge eyes looking up to see wrists bound in ribbon. Easy enough for Clark to rip through.

The challenge was in exercising enough control not to, even when Clark lost control in other ways.

"All mine," Lex said softly, his voice dark and possessive. "And you're going to remember that tonight, aren't you?"

He traced a ribbon along Clark's forearms, his fingertips dancing down the younger man's arms. His fingers followed the ribbon as it wound its way haphazardly around Clark's torso, and he kept his touch light and teasing.

"Such a pretty package...all wrapped up for me in such pretty ribbon," Lex said flippantly, a touch of a leer in his voice. He looked down at his partner approvingly and felt a sharp surge of satisfaction as big hands wrapped around the posts of the headboard, Clark nodding unconsciously to everything Lex said. "All for me. Always for me."

Lex leaned down, pressing his body into Clark as he nipped at a soft lobe. He tongued along the shell of Clark's right ear, and then blew softly causing Clark to shiver in response.

"Good boy," Lex whispered into Clark's ear. "Keep your hands up there."

He nibbled his way down soft skin, kissing and biting just under Clark's jaw, laving attention along the smooth line of neck. He brought his hands up, thumbs brushing against hard pecs, circling and caressing with pressure light enough to drive Clark mad from the almost-stimulation. He ignored Clark squirming around, instead laying claim to every bit of skin within reach with mouth and tongue.

"Lex!" Clark huffed impatiently. "Harder!"

Lex was nothing if not obligatory to his beloved so he pressed harder with solid caresses, his blood pulsing faster and hotter at the whines and gasps coming from above him. The older man replaced his fingers with his mouth, biting hard and then lapping at the abused flesh with soft, wet caresses. Fingertips danced along ribs, rubbing circles into that rock-hard stomach.

Lex moved lower, tonguing along those pretty lines of ribbon, sliding his tongue beneath the satin cloth to taste salty-sweet skin. The best flavor in the world. Clark-flavor. Better than lemonade and raspberries on a summer day.

His hands dropped down, stroking hips and thighs as he bit at the center of the bow and tugged playfully, a mock-growl rumbling out of his throat. He paid particular tribute to the skin around that bow, showing his appreciation for such creative genius.

Such a fanciful boy, full of dreams and daydreams. There was a reason he was one of the top fantasy sci-fi writers in the country.

Mercedes Lackey. Piers Anthony. Anne McCaffrey. Ray Bradbury. Clark Kent Luthor.

He nudged the floppy bow to the side with his nose, swirling his tongue around the navel it hid, plunging in with a rhythm that was a promise of what was to come.

"Uuunnngh," Clark keened, arching his hips up, trying to rub his dick into available Lex-flesh, his stomach pressed firmly into Lex's face. "Lex," he wailed pitifully. "Stop teasing!"

Lex hummed softly, leaving Clark's bellybutton alone and kissing his way along a sharp hipbone, his fingertips smoothing in slow strokes along those pretty inner thighs. Thighs he intended to feast on. Later.

"What do you want?" Lex asked, his voice husky with need. He lipped the even prettier hard cock, his tongue sinuously sliding out in a long line along one of the throbbing veins. Pretty alien cock and it was all Lex's. He lifted his mouth. "Do you want this?"

"Yessss," Clark hissed, his hips arching up again.

"Wanted to suck you off this morning, but you weren't in bed," Lex muttered, voice faintly accusatory. He licked at the hot skin, a dark angry red, while he grabbed it around the base, his thumb rubbing firm patterns into the hard flesh.

"Sorry. Sorry," Clark panted, mouth slack and open. "Was in my office. Teleconference with my...with my....my publisher."

Lex moved his head back slightly, ignoring Clark's pained moan, to bury his nose in tight curls and hard cock. Deep, musky scent that was pure male, thick and heavy with a hint of something sharp and fresh like cilantro. Pure Clark scent, or more accurately, pure Clark SEX scent, and it made Lex's cock twitch in anticipation.

It didn't even bother him anymore. He knew he was hardwired to the sight, sound, taste, smell, and feel of Clark. He'd stopped fighting it years ago. The boy owned him completely. The smell of Clark and sex made him harder than the most experienced, high priced whore-rent-boy-bitch on his knees just begging to be taken ever could.

Lex moaned again, the image of Clark on his hands and knees, begging and pleading, making him reach down to squeeze himself hard. He had an agenda and getting off on Clark fantasies wasn't on it.

Another thrust from Clark reminded him of the impatient and needy man who was very much on that agenda. In fact, he had a starring role. The babbling demands and pleas, he just ignored.

Lex moved back, taking in the sight of that lovely head all slick with pre-come. He moved his mouth down, pushing back the foreskin with his lips, lapping at the head once. Twice. Three times. Clark just ready for it, moaning and trembling, thighs quivering as he tried to stay still. In control.

Such a good boy.

Lex tongued the slit, twisting in that way that made Clark's heart rate speed up every time, thrumming madly like a hummingbird's, and he felt a jolt down his spine as Clark wailed out.

He glanced up, meeting the beautiful emerald green eyes he'd dreamt about for years, pretty dratted boy he'd refused to touch. Tried to be good and remain the best friend, encouraging Clark to make a play for his childhood crush. His high school sweetheart.

He'd had to watch Clark chase after Lana Lang, princess bitch, who, okay, was sweet and kind at times, but still. A bitch. Not to mention an idiot for not ever seeing what a priceless jewel Clark was. Is. Always.

Priceless. Unique. Beyond value and worth, more than all the riches of the Earth combined.

It was a good thing Clark never fucked her. Lex might have seriously considered putting out a hit on little Miss Princess Bitch.

"Please, Lex."

Lex forced his thoughts away from Clark's childhood love, instead going down and swallowing Clark's long, thick cock with ease. The sweetest stretch of his mouth as Clark disappeared in him inch by inch, the skin pulsing in his mouth, throat relaxing as he kept taking him in.

Clark, making those high, helpless mewls that made the experience so much hotter. So much more perfect. Clark under him, all that power leashed by something as fragile as lavender ribbon and Lex Luthor's will, a quivering mass of need and desire.

God, did he need this. The feel of Clark in his mouth, thighs trembling underneath his fingertips and dancing to a melody Lex made.

One last high keening wail as Lex sucked hard, swallowing the last few inches of cock as he moved his hand, nose buried in dark, aromatic curls. Lex began to move up and down, taking and releasing, almost wishing he would feel the grip of strong hands on his neck and head, but mostly blitzing out on the taste and feel of cock.

Clark's cock.

Better than any other he'd ever had.

Not that he'd necessarily point that out to Clark. Clark was unpredictable about things like that. On one hand, he might puff out his chest in smug masculine pride, but on the other he might get peevish at the reminder that he wasn't Lex's first. Or only. Or even one of half a dozen.

Reminding Clark of his slut years never ended well. The hard, possessive sex was great, but the man pouted and sulked for days on end with that old insecurity wrapped around him like a cloak. It was slightly charming and definitely disturbing.

It also made Lex's heart hurt. Clark wasn't meant for insecurity or heartache. He was meant to smile and laugh. His farmboy imp, even if he wasn't a farmboy anymore.

He petted Clark softly, moving his hands down, rolling Clark's balls in his hands. Glanced up to see his eyes closed tightly, pretty lashes a black fan, head rolling back in mindless pleasure. And he backed off, moving his head back when he felt Clark getting close.

"Noooooo..."

Lex paid no attention to the cry. He released Clark with a soft plop, licking along the damp shaft, tongue moving in swirls and twists.

"Please, Lex. Please."

Desperate pleas that Lex shut his ears to, gentling Clark down with his tongue and lips.

Only to start again.

Swallowing Clark, letting him thrust in and out in abandon, and then pulling back just before release. Gentling him down slightly only to push him back again, reaching another plateau of pleasure, pushing Clark to a higher need than the last. Over and over again until Clark was begging in a raspy voice thick with desire and desperation.

"Such a good boy," Lex whispered against a conveniently nearby thigh, pressing a kiss to it. "Deserves a reward."

He reached over blindly, his right hand moving unerringly for the lube he'd seen tucked under the pillow near the spool of ribbon. He squeezed some onto his left fingers, even as he began swallowing Clark once more.

"Lex. Please. Please." Clark chanted, moving his hips up frantically. "Pleeeeeease."

Lex hummed an arpeggio, and Clark let out a high wordless howl as flesh made ultra sensitive felt the vibrations of mouth and throat. Lex kept his head still, letting Clark thrust in and out on his own, faster and deeper as Lex pushed a finger into him, stretching quickly so he could add another. Reaching for a certain spot, he rode out the wild bucking of pelvis and cock as he found Clark's prostate. And he continued hitting it, fucking the pretty boy on his fingers as the pretty boy fucked his mouth.

Lex swallowed rapidly when Clark finally came with a shout, Lex's name on his lips, semen spilling down Lex's throat. Lex kept swallowing, milking Clark's cock and pulling back only when it was soft and lax. He lapped at it softly, cleaning it, the taste of Clark zinging across his taste buds. Another Clarkism. Not salty or bitter, but sweet, something like vanilla or ginger ale combined with something zingy, a taste completely unique. Foreign. Alien.

Lex's exotic spouse, all beauty and sweetness. Lex just continued licking at him. Soft, little licks that made Clark squirm in discomfort. Too soon, even for Clark, and Lex grinned, knowing how Clark liked his cock being licked like it was the best kind of lollipop even if Clark was feeling a little sensitive.

He pressed one kiss to limp lil' Clark and looked up expectantly. He couldn't help the smirk that slipped onto his face as he saw his husband collapsed bonelessly into the bed, eyes still shut.

He slithered his way up damp skin, his cock dragging pre-come up in a ragged line. Lex rained hundreds of kisses onto skin and ribbon until he was even with that perfect face. Nipping at a full lower lip, Lex kissed Clark hard, feeling a surge of satisfaction as Clark kissed him back wildly, the boy's tongue darting in to chase after the lingering taste of himself in Lex.

His pretty angelic boy wasn't unconscious then.

"Shhhhh," Lex hushed an undisclosed time later, minutes upon minutes of lazy kisses shared in Clark's afterglow. Shushing Clark before he could say a word. "Stay right there. I'll be right back."

He reached up, clasping beribboned wrists tightly in a very unsubtle reminder, and he gave Clark one more leisurely kiss before getting up from the bed. He felt an intense gaze follow him as he made his way to the ice bucket, and he opened the last bottle of champagne. He poured a glass, and after grabbing a handful of strawberries he made his way back to the bed. He fought the smug grin that wanted to break out as that hot stare remained on him the whole time.

It was heady stuff, being the whole world to someone as special as Clark.

"Do you need some help with that?" The question broke the silence in the room, Clark's voice low and thick.

Lex followed Clark's gaze down, chuckling as he met the sight of his own erection. However, he merely raised an eyebrow inquiringly.

Clark lifted his bound hands slightly, wiggling his fingers as he looked down at the ribbon winding around his torso and upper legs. "This was supposed to be a present for you. You being the key word."

Lex crawled onto the bed, shaking his head slowly. After setting the strawberries down on Clark's chest, he said with a pointed look at Clark's body, "Believe me, this is a present to me."

He took a sip of his champagne, using his free hand to stroke the nearest hip. He looked over Clark languidly, taking his time, cataloging the pure perfection of all that easily accessible Clark skin, his eyes darkening with desire. He added silkily, "The best kind."

He smirked as a flush heated Clark's cheeks, eyes darting down self-consciously.

Fuck.

Clark was so damn hot and sweet. It didn't matter if they'd fucked away Clark's innocence years ago. Made love thousands of times in all manner of ways and positions. Clark was still Clark. So endearing and delightful, even if the younger man tried to deny it, not quite able to believe that he was the personification and essence of beauty.

If Clark had been born in Ancient Greece, the gods would have either embraced the boy, bringing him to live up on Olympus with his own place in the heavens, or they would have smote him for daring to surpass the beauty of the gods themselves.

Arachne and Queen Cassiopeia had learned that lesson the hard way.

Lex reached out, brushing his fingers across a flushed cheek, and pressed a kiss against the other. He murmured softly, "So beautiful. Nothing more beautiful. No one more precious."

He stroked his fingers one last time across that cheek, looking into Clark's eyes lovingly.

Enchanted. Completely enchanted.

Amazing that someone with so much power and physical strength could be so shy. So unassuming. Despite years of social obligations, fancy parties, press conferences, book signings, and interviews at heart Clark was still that same shy kid he'd met who'd had two friends in the whole world and saw himself as a klutzy misfit whom everyone made fun of. That everyone thought was a loser and a geek.

Sacrilege.

Lex dipped the two forefingers of his right hand into the champagne, dragging them across rose-red lips. He watched as the tip of a pink tongue slipped out, licking at wet lips. Lex kept his gaze pinned on Clark, dipping his fingers back in his glass blindly, and reached out quickly before a drop could spill, placing them back on that lush mouth.

Lips opened obligingly and Lex slipped his fingers in, a warm tongue wrapping around them and chasing after every drop of champagne. Heat tingled in his fingers and pooled in his stomach as that soft tongue stroked and sucked, making love to his fingers.

Lex groaned, pulling his fingers out. Clark followed with his lips as he raised his head, nipping at Lex's fingers lightly with his teeth. Lex brushed his wet fingers against Clark's lips, using his left hand to take a deep drink from his glass. He didn't swallow, instead lowering his head into a kiss, sharing the champagne, the kiss languid and sweet.

He picked up a strawberry, slipping it into Clark's mouth, and after a few minutes took another sip. He bent down, opening his mouth, an explosion of strawberry and champagne mixing in their mouths. They continued in this vein, Lex feeding his spouse the red berries and fine alcohol, each kiss getting deeper and longer. When the last berry was gone, Lex leaned over, setting the empty glass on the nightstand.

"Leeeeex," Clark rumbled softly, something between a whine and a moan.

Lex just smiled knowingly, a promise in his eyes, coming back to lay his hands flat on Clark's chest, his thumbs stroking the skin over and over. He went back to kissing the brunette, the body beneath him warm and hard, the smooth planes fitting into Lex perfectly. Like pieces of a puzzle.

Mapped out muscles and valleys with his hands. Long strokes and short caresses. Lex paid particular attention to the line of hard abs, nipping with sharp teeth hard enough to make Clark jerk and yelp, body arching as he tried to get closer. Lex rubbed a line of ribbon thoughtfully, the satin strip smooth but the body underneath hard, and he wondered what it felt like to Clark. For someone with invulnerable and impenetrable skin, that same skin was amazingly sensitive during lovemaking.

A good thing. Who wanted to be the Man of Steel if no one could ever touch him? If he couldn't feel or recognize a tender touch or a soft caress?

Kryptonian physiology and the cellular changes brought about by Earth and her sun were complex, but luckily, the release of different hormones and adrenaline during sex versus the adrenaline rush from fighting or danger allowed Clark to feel. To be receptive to touch in a way he wasn't at any other time.

Clark. Who only became a real boy in bed.

If Lex weren't so grateful for Clark in his life, in their home, in their bed, he'd curse Clark's biological parents for sending baby Clark to Earth. It had taken him over two years to convince Clark to do anything beyond making out and hand jobs, that it wouldn't be dangerous to have sex. Getting naked? Jacking each other off? Clark couldn't strip fast enough or strip Lex fast enough. He'd liked touching and being touched.

Anything else? Forget it. Penetration had terrified Clark. Frottage? The kid had had nightmares about thrusting too hard and drilling a hole. Literally. Blow jobs? Another nightmare, this time about an accidental castration or crushing a bald head like an egg.

It had taken another year of slow experimentation, gradually increasing from hand jobs to finally anal penetration. And he'd only been able to do this because he'd known about Clark's fears, his issues, and his alien heritage. He'd been able to address Clark's problems directly, and they'd worked on Clark's confidence that he could control his strength. In addition, Lex liked to think that it helped that over those first three years that he'd sworn over and over to Clark that even if they never had sex, he'd still love Clark. Would still be committed to him, completely monogamous.

He'd even meant it.

Poor kid. Lex suspected that Clark would have remained a virgin for the rest of life otherwise. He'd had serious alien issues, and he'd had a deep, ingrained fear that he would hurt people if he touched them.

Fucking Jonathan Kent. And okay, Martha Kent might have had something to do with it, too, but if Lex wanted to blame Jonathan Kent, he'd blame Jonathan Kent. Besides, cussing out Clark's mother just seemed wrong.

Was it any wonder it had taken Clark almost two years of flirting, semi-dating, and dating before he'd finally kissed Lana? The poor kid had probably thought he'd rip off Lana's lips or something equally paranoid after all the lectures he'd received since he was a toddler.

Indoctrinated fears and phobias. Lionel Luthor could really take a lesson out of the Kent handbook for childrearing.

And okay, maybe Lex was sensitive to this issue, but he'd been the one who'd spent years working on the psychological scars left by well meaning parents. And sure, he had his own issues, but at least he wasn't afraid that he'd break bones or snap off limbs if he touched someone, nor had he ever felt that he had a moral imperative and obligation to save people from themselves just because he had "gifts".

Lex's eyes narrowed, a fierce glare on his face, just thinking about Clark's adoptive father.

He quickly smoothed his features out, irritated at himself when it actually took some amount of effort, and he pressed a gentle kiss against Clark's stomach. He felt his own cock twitch as he made his way back to Clark's rapidly hardening erection. He applied himself vigorously with tongue and lips, licking and nibbling, to make that gorgeous cock hard and ready.

He slipped his hands down, rolling Clark's balls in his hands, scraping his nails against Clark's perineum. Clark's hip bucked up wildly, and Lex heard Clark babbling wildly about love and forever and please and how Lex was the best.

He left Clark's cock alone, ignoring the pained moan, biting and kissing along inner thighs. He used his hands to get the lube and slicked his fingers. He added one finger, two, and then three. Stretching and twisting his fingers, taking his time to make sure Clark was fully stretched, fucking the dark-haired man slowly just the way Clark liked. The strangled gasps and pants above him let Lex know Clark appreciated his thoughtfulness.

Lex moved his fingers in and out, excitement tingling down his spine and cock like sparkles of sexual electricity, and looked up. His breath caught in his throat as he saw Clark with his head thrown back, tendrils of damp hair pasted to his forehead, exposed neck all golden and long just begging to be kissed and bit. Clark snapped his hips forward once, twice, then settled for wiggling that gorgeous round ass onto Lex's fingers. Writhing and moaning like he needed it. Needed Lex and fingers and cock. And oh, fuck.

Suddenly Clark looked down, eyes blazing with heat as they watched him. Soft little pants coming from that lush mouth, pink tongue peeking out like the best surprise. Clark behaving himself, his arms still above his head, hands wrapped around thin spindles of wood, not breaking them, ribbon winding around him, his muscles standing out in his arms as he obviously worked to not move them.

Lex kept one hand kneading that exquisite ass, the other continued fucking, fingers twisting until Clark was yelling and bucking wildly.

"Pleeeeeease," Clark moaned, thrashing around, trying to push himself onto Lex's fingers. "Now, Lex. Please."

Lex leaned forward, fingers leaving Clark to cup a hip.

Clark cried out, "Nooooooo..." Hips arching up desperately, Clark pleaded. "No, Lex. Please. Empty."

Sexy little pants, wild green eyes all big and pleading. Lex kept moving forward, capturing Clark in a deep and possessive kiss. He used his hands to slick himself and drew back from Clark to plunge into that hot, tight ass with one stroke. Clark keened wildly, back arching, desperately trying to push himself down further on Lex. Lex just held onto Clark's hips, not even bothering to control Clark's movements, holding himself still.

After a few moments, Clark gave a ragged cry, stilling himself. Waiting. He knew after years with Lex that when his spouse got this way, the older man went at his own pace.

They both liked to exercise control in bed on occasion when they topped. Clark recognized the mood. Such a good, good boy. He definitely deserved another reward.

Lex started a slow rhythm, thrusting in and out in long even strokes. He paid no attention to Clark's pleas to go faster and harder, building it up incrementally instead. One hand on Clark's hip to help hold him up, strong legs wrapped around his waist, Lex used his other hand to jack Clark slowly, a matching rhythm that left Clark either arching up into a tight tunnel of fingers or plunging down onto a hard shaft.

As before, Lex waited, exercising the iron will he was infamous for, the control he'd formed after a lifetime as the Luthor heir, building Clark up to the point of orgasm, then backing off slowly. Going faster and harder, then slowing down until the next cycle. Pushing Clark past one peak of pleasure, and then another, and then another.

"Please, Lex. Please let me come. Please," Clark babbled incessantly. His body writhed on the bed, twisting and turning like the prettiest slut just loving it and wanting more and more and more. Cock just weeping pre-come, hard and thick and beautiful. "Please let me come. Please."

"As you wish," Lex said, an edge of amusement combined with something dark in his voice. Sounding a lot like desire. Lex smiled as Clark shuddered, the vibrations doing very good things to his own cock and libido.

Lex snapped his hips forward hard, thrusting in deep at an angle that hit Clark's prostate every time. He tightened his grip, jacking Clark hard and fast. He ignored the sweat dripping down from his forehead, the ache building in his body from the tireless pace he'd been setting all night.

"Leeeeex," Clark moaned, eyes still shining and bright, pinned to Lex with a desperate look.

Lex and Clark stared at each other, love and lust in their eyes, and Lex finally bit out in a hoarse voice, "Now. Come for me, Clark."

And Clark did. Eyes still on Lex, mouth hanging open as he gasped and made wordless desperate noises, he came hard. Semen spilling out onto Lex's hand and his belly, eyes finally squeezing shut as he threw his head back and let his orgasm overwhelm him.

Lex just kept thrusting hard and deep, making love through every shudder and squeeze on his cock. He kept hitting Clark's prostate, twisting Clark's orgasm into something hotter and brighter, until that beautiful golden body was slipping down into the sheets loose and lethargic. He kept up his pace for a few more moments, feeling the tingle in his thighs and stomach, all sensation centering on his own hard cock still pounding into the sweetest ass on Earth.

He jerked one more time into Clark, hard, molten pleasure burning its way through his body and out through his cock, spilling into Clark.

Always into Clark.

Only Clark.

Lex slumped forward, panting himself, his own voice echoing in his ears, Clark's name vibrating in the air. He dismissed his automatic cringe as his mind recalled his own babbling promises and compliments to the man underneath him. Some responses were ingrained in him, but that didn't mean he was a slave to them. Telling Clark how beautiful and exquisite he was, how much he was wanted and needed, how much he was loved...that wasn't a weakness no matter how much Lionel's voice liked to deride and berate him from the back of his mind.

He pressed one last kiss onto a sweaty stomach, started to pull out, and wasn't surprised to feel arms circle around him, pulling him up, ribbon trailing down his back and tickling his skin.

"No. Stay."

Lex bussed Clark's lips. "I'll be gone just a moment. I need to clean us up."

"No." Clark shook his head, wiggling his ass. "Empty. Don't like."

Lex felt a sappy smile slip on his face, but he didn't argue, knowing how Clark felt. Being in Clark, a part of Clark, filling him up, was the best feeling in the world. Other than being filled, having Clark in him, a part of him.

With a quick twist, Clark turned them around, draping himself over Lex like a big sweaty Clark blanket. However, Lex didn't say a word, only wrapping his own arms around Clark's back, reaching up with one hand to pet at raven hair. Clark scooted down a little, resting his cheek on Lex's shoulder like he never intended to move.

Who was Lex to complain?

They luxuriated in the feel of each other, their hands touching each other softly, tenderly. Just enjoying being wrapped up in each other. When he had to slip out of Clark, he peppered that beloved face with kiss after kiss to make up for the loss. Eventually Lex whispered into dark curls, "Can you take the day off tomorrow?"

Clark shook his head minutely. "I have a deadline in two months and I---"

Clark broke off with a gasp as Lex trailed a finger down his spine and teased his crease, pushing into his body and twisting with ease and deadly intent. He shuddered once, his body tensing, arching his ass up automatically in Lex's hand. His cock twitched painfully, and he bleated brokenly, "Too soon."

Another finger and a few more strokes had Lex slipping his fingers out to the music of soft whimpers, and he set both his hands on Clark's ass, kneading firmly. He knew what it would do to Clark, the softly blurring liquid happy-safe-home feeling that would flow through his body, and he smirked as Clark melted into Lex, body limp with pleasure from a night of orgasms, champagne, and hands working over his ass.

Alien physiology had its perks.

He kissed the top of Clark's head and murmured, "So can you take tomorrow off?"

"Nnnnngh?"

Lex smirked half-heartedly, a weary satisfaction pulling him down as well as the eighteen-hour day started to catch up to him. "Tomorrow?"

"Mmmmm..." Clark hummed contentedly.

"Take it off?"

Clark moved slightly, his ass moving back in a wiggle and arch like a kitten being petted just right, and he looked up at Lex slightly in displeasure at being interrupted, though a hint of curiosity flitted through his eyes.

"Why?" Clark's hand stroked Lex's chest, the ribbon still trailing from his wrists.

"I thought I'd spend the day with you."

The displeasure quickly fled, shock overtaking any other expression. Mouth slack and open, eyes huge, Clark gasped, "Really? The whole day?" A hint of suspicion lurked in his eyes, as if Clark suspected a catch.

Lex felt a stab of anger at himself, and he mentally counted back to the last time he'd spent an entire day with Clark.

Too long.

He nodded, not letting his feelings of self-disgust show. Clark's wary distrust of the offer was enough by itself to set off alarm bells. So Lex just echoed, "The whole day."

Nothing was more important than Clark.

"No working? At all?"

Lex smiled at the momentary perkiness in Clark's voice, his eyes brightening. Shining. And Lex nodded again. "Yes. All day. No work. And..." Lex lifted one hand, Clark not even noticing its abandonment, and brushed several damp strands of hair back from Clark's face. He returned to kneading and massaging Clark's hips and ass as he continued, "I thought we could spend the weekend together, too. Maybe make a long weekend of it and go to the beach house."

"Really?" The skepticism in Clark's voice warred with hope.

Lex just looked at Clark expectantly. "You can even fly us."

Clark nodded, excited, wriggling down into Lex, arms clasping onto his shoulders as he buried his face into Lex's neck. "Yes!"

Lex nuzzled into Clark's hair as his hands continued to massage and stroke. He said quietly, "You could sunbathe. We'll go swimming. Maybe even try surfing again."

A muffled giggle vibrated against his neck. "Lex! Only if I can bring out the vidcam."

Lex huffed out a breath in mock-exasperation. "Don't you start, farmboy. You weren't exactly riding the waves like a pro, either."

"Yeah, but I don't expect to be perfect at everything I do," Clark said teasingly.

Lex just hummed noncommittally. A three or four day weekend in California would do wonders for them. Away from all commitments and work, just him and Clark. He set his cheek against soft, dark hair. The smell of sweaty Clark, sex, and Clark's citrus-apple shampoo wrapped around him.

"We...we don't have to," Clark said tentatively. "If you have too much work."

"Nothing's more important than you, Clark," Lex replied, intensity in his voice. "I know I've been distracted with work---"

"It's okay," Clark broke in.

"No, it's not." Lex's tone was firm. Unbending. "So we're going to take the day off tomorrow. Then we'll spend a long weekend in California. You can bring your laptop; I know you have a schedule you have to keep, but I'm leaving work behind. Barring an emergency, I'm all yours."

A kiss was pressed to his neck.

Lex nudged Clark off him, kissing Clark silly when he made protesting noises, and got up with a groan. He padded into the bathroom, wetting a hand towel and returning to clean up himself and Clark. He made sure to wash Clark's stomach, spending extra time wiping at sticky thighs. He used soft, long strokes as he worked his way up, and then signaled for Clark to roll over. He spread Clark's cheeks, a half-smile twisting his lips as Clark hummed happily while he was gently wiped down.

He left the ribbons alone. Unwrapping Clark would be his morning treat.

He took five minutes to make the room orderly, setting the empty champagne bottle and glasses on a tray out in the hall, along with the ice bucket. He set the nearly full bottle in the mini-refrigerator in their bedroom, along with the strawberries, plans already percolating in his mind on how he could put them to use in the morning. He went around blowing out the candles and felt a sappy warm glow fill his chest when he saw that Clark had scooted to the other side of the bed. Like the younger man always did when he had the silk sheets put on the bed.

Sweat-soaked, wet silk did not feel good.

Lex finished with the candles and slipped into bed, nudging Clark over slightly. He received a pouty glare, but that changed as Lex drew the silk top sheet over them, followed by the blanket that was folded at the base of the bed. Clark squirmed happily against the silk for a moment before moving over and glomping onto Lex, resting his head onto Lex's shoulder again.

Silence filled the room, and Lex was just about to drift into sleep, when Clark mumbled drowsily, "Happy Birthday."

Lex reached up, stroking Clark's head. "It is now."

END


ADDITIONAL AUTHOR'S NOTES AND CREDITS

NOTE II: I swear I didn't copy the line intentionally, but the last line of this story is similar to another line used in "Flew", an incredibly sweet, schmoopy fic by ingrid that can be found at http://smallville.slashdom.com/archive/23/flew.html A definite recommendation if you want something light and romantic, with a wonderful side dish of humor. (I'll never hear the words 'palmetto bugs' and not think of this fic.) I tried several different alternative lines once I realized that the last line of "Lex's Late Night Surprise" was echoing the same sentiment from ingrid's "Flew"...but "It is now" just fit too naturally into the rhythm of the dialogue between Clark and Lex. Sorry, ingrid, I didn't mean to echo the theme of your story. It was an accident, honest.

NOTE III: Doctor Chase Meridan is a character borrowed from the third Batman movie, "Batman Forever", though this story is in no way meant to be a crossover to the movie. Bruce Wayne, obviously, is borrowed from the Batman universe. Specifically from the animated series.

NOTE IV: This is a completely different alternate universe from "Smallville" Season 3. This an AU Clark and Lex who never experienced Lionel throwing Lex into the funny farm, Clark and Lana dated their junior year in high school, and Lex seduced Clark the summer before his senior year (after Clark turned eighteen that May). Clark was incredibly fucked up, Lex was fairly fucked up, and being Lex's "consort" put Clark on a new path. No Daily Planet, no intrepid mild-mannered reporter, and a much more "Clarkish" adult Clark who has a very visible public life as a popular author and the spouse of a leading businessman. (For anyone wondering about the how and why of the wide deviation from comic book canon of Clark's future career path.)