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by Alicia Malone

Clark was flying. Rain swept along his back, wetness that seeped into his pores, his skin soaking in the drops. The clouds were underneath him, soft as silk. They pressed against his body decadently, teasing him to a half-hard state.

In his sleep-muddled mind, he didn't quite understand that; clouds were soft, yes, but they shouldn't have been able to support him.

Experimentally, he pressed against the clouds, groaning as his arousal grew from the pressure against his hips. He opened his eyes slowly, his vision swimming in red.

Red. Like the color of Lex's pillows.

He groaned louder, bucking his hips as flashes of memory assaulted him: Lex pressing him down on the bed the night before, covering his body, kissing him deep, thrusting inside of him deeper.

Clark wasn't flying; he was waking up in Lex's bed.

His arousal skyrocketed.

"While I enjoy the show," Lex said somewhere above Clark, his voice silky smooth, reminding Clark of sex personified, "you're ruining my art."

Something wet ran across Clark's shoulder blade, the tingle of softness leaving goosebumps on Clark's skin in its wake. Clark was curious as to what the source was, now that he knew it wasn't rain.

"Lex--" Clark's voice was rough from sleep, from groaning, from sex, and he chuckled quietly when the bed shuddered from Lex's reaction. "What are you doing?"

"You'll see," Lex murmured mysteriously. "Just stay still." The wetness brushed against his skin again, slow and purposeful.

Clark closed his eyes and concentrated on the feeling. He was able to pick out a letter here and there; a capitol 'a', a lower case 'x', a lower case 'r'. He could feel the swirls of a capitol 'l', and that's when he realized Lex was writing out 'Alexander Luthor'.

He raised his head, trying to look over his shoulder down his back. Long fingers threaded through his hair and pushed his face back down into the pillow as Lex laughed. "No looking! Go back to sleep, Clark. I'll wake you when I finish."

Clark pressed his face into the pillow, the combined smell of him and Lex and sex filling his senses; making arousal a constant thing, hovering in his mind, dulling the edges of everything else. He raised his arms and wrapped them around the pillow, pulling it closer to him. "I think," he murmured, Lex's secret project soothing him, "I might just go back to sleep."

Lex made a non-committal noise, too wrapped up in his project to pay much attention to what Clark said.

It wasn't long before Clark was relaxed enough to sleep again, dreaming of making love to Lex above the clouds as they flew through the sky.

Clark wiggled his foot, laughing as he woke up, staring at the ceiling. He recognized the feeling: once when he'd spent the night at Pete's house, he woke up to Pete's dog Scraps licking his foot. He opened his eyes and gazed down his body, laughter dying away as confusion took over.

Lex was on the floor, his face half obscured by Clark's foot. He wasn't licking Clark's foot; instead, he was concentrating on something else, his brow furrowed and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. "Lex?" Clark's eyes widened as he took in the rest of the scene.

There were lines and drawings all along his chest. Greek letters that Clark recognized from some of Lex's books were interspersed with Kryptonian symbols. "Lex, what the hell!?" He sat up quickly, rubbing his hand along his chest. Whatever it was Lex had used wasn't coming off.

Lex sat back, smiling widely at Clark. "I've been busy while you slept. Luckily, you sleep like a rock and don't move." He set a thin brush down on a paper towel, his eyes sweeping along Clark's body.

"What... is it?" It was odd to see something stained on his skin, a mark that wouldn't come off or fade away like his rare bruise would.

"Henna," Lex said, climbing back up on the bed, pulling Clark down to settle at his side. "Last night, when you finally told me everything, one part of it disappointed me."

Clark's eyebrows came together in confusion, and he opened his mouth to protest. He wouldn't cry; he refused to let Lex see him upset. "What's that?" He tried to keep his voice light.

"I couldn't mark you," Lex purred, kissing him gently.

Clark blinked, once, twice, before his face broke into a huge grin. "Oh."

Lex chuckled quietly. "Anyway, I figured since you're human--"

"Alien," Clark reminded him, gently.

"Humanoid, Clark, and definitely more human than a lot of people I've met in my life--" Clark flushed with pleasure at Lex's words, "--so your skin should take henna just like mine would." Lex reached out and ran his fingers softly along one of the Kryptonian symbols. "I remember this one, from the caves. I tried to draw all of them I could remember, so it would be more... you."

"That's my language," Clark said softly. He traced the symbol. "This means 'sun'. Well, the star for the third planet, technically, but we just call it the sun."

"The way you light up the room every time you come in. I think that works." He pushed Clark over, so he was resting on his stomach. Clark looked over his shoulder, down his back. He could see the different symbols, but couldn't make anything out. He would have to find a mirror later to see what Lex had drawn. "This," Lex said, slowly tracing his finger along the letters of his name he'd written earlier, "means you belong to me."

He trailed his fingers along the dark lines that adorned Clark's body, sliding over his ass to the back of his thighs. When Clark spread his legs invitingly, Lex smiled to himself, allowing his fingers to dip lower.

Clark groaned, pushing his hips into the bed. His voice was husky when he spoke. "And I think I like that best of all."