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Save Me, Part Two

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As soon as Lex’s car hits the turn off at the end of the dirt road he feels he’s safely away from the Kent farm, so he opens up the engine and roars back to the mansion as fast as he dares. He breaks every speed limit, but it’s late enough that he doesn’t see one single car on the way back. He deliberately keeps his mind as blank as possible.  Not something he’s normally very good at, but he puts extra effort into it tonight. It still doesn’t work.

He can’t believe that he’d just watched Clark…no. Lex takes some deep breaths to help clear his mind again.

Jesus, he’d just helped Clark to…NO!    God damn it, he’s stronger than this. Lex starts to list all of the elements in the Periodic Table, in alphabetical order, along with their atomic mass. By the time he gets to Radium, he’s screeching up to his front door. He leaves the car for someone else to take care of and races up to his study. Well…he tries to race anyway, but the steel rod in his pants makes it difficult. He’s in definite need of a scotch. Maybe three. He needs fortification and a lot of it.

A picture of Clark flashes in his head. Pants pushed down past his hips, shirt riding up enough to reveal those rock-hard abs, cock leaking a drop of precome and Clark looking at it in wonder, as if he’d never seen precome before.

Lex moans low as his cock twitches in his slacks, and he can feel his own precome making a wet spot on his boxers. He tosses down his drink in one swallow. The resultant burn helps him to gain control over himself. 

At least it does until the burn is gone. Then he flashes on another vision of Clark rubbing that salty drop into the head of his cock, his back bowing off the couch a little at the sensation. 

Lex forces himself to think about it analytically. He figures that must mean that the head of Clark’s cock is much more sensitive than most to get such a reaction from him. The arch of his back, the long moan all contribute to the evidence that Clark is very sensitive to touch. Lex wonders if he’s that sensitive every…

Lex feels another surge from his cock, making the wet spot grow. Apparently, trying to get more clinical about the memories isn’t going to work either. Lex collapses on to the couch and downs another tumbler of scotch.

Unfortunately, this one doesn’t have any more affect than the first. Actually, this one makes things worse. Instead of fortifying him against the memories, it lowers his resistance to them. They start coming faster and faster – thoughts of Clark’s large hand wrapped around his cock, Clark moaning Lex’s name, Clark following the suggestion Lex had given him to help him come, Clark’s face in the throes of orgasm, Clark licking his own come off his hand…

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Lex throws his glass into the fireplace, but doesn’t even hear it shatter. He’s much too intent on getting his pants undone and down before he comes in them. He grabs himself by the base of his cock and squeezes hard.

He hasn’t come in his pants since he was fifteen and he isn’t going to let it happen now. Certainly not from just a few mental images of his underage best friend. God! What images they were though. Clark had never been a child to him, and never less so than earlier tonight. That was a man’s body, a man’s cock (God, was it ever), and a man’s moans.

His thoughts make his hips rise into the grip he has on his cock. If the noise he makes had come out of a lover’s mouth, Lex would have called it a whimper, but Luthors don’t whimper.

He isn’t going to do this, damn it. He isn’t going to jerk off to thoughts of his friend. He’s been trying so hard to change since coming to Smallville. This would be wrong, so wrong. God, but it feels so right. Ruthlessly, Lex controls his hips and doesn’t allow himself another thrust.

He can’t quite make himself let go of his cock, but his flings his other arm up to cover his face. He huffs out a laugh at the irony of his position. This is exactly how Clark had been laid out on his couch in the loft.

“Clark! God, Clark, why do you have to be so good, so innocent? If you’d been bad or experienced, I could have seduced you without a qualm.”

“I don’t know. I guess I was waiting for someone. Someone that I wanted to do bad things with…and to.”

Lex bolts upright as Clark’s voice precedes him into the room. Clark is standing there, framed by the double doors, before he closes them behind him. Lex hears the unmistakable sound of a lock snicking into place.

“Clark, what are you doing here?” Lex tries to surreptitiously tuck himself back into his underwear and pull his pants up, but Clark is suddenly kneeling by the couch with a hand on his arm stopping him.


Clark’s voice is hoarse, but it doesn’t waver and Lex wonders where this new, confidant Clark came from, until he notices Clark’s free hand clenching at his side, the swipe of a tongue over suddenly dry lips, and eyes that stay firmly on his face. Lex’s world rights itself somewhat, after he notices those signs of a Clark who isn’t as confidant as he’s trying to portray.

“Clark, I can’t do this in front of you. It’s wrong. You’re too young.”

“Why not? You watched me. You helped me.”

God! He had, and it had been…Clark had been…exquisite. “I shouldn’t have, Clark. I’d come by to check on you, and it was a horrible invasion of your privacy to stay and watch.” He brutally shoves the memories down that want to surface. He knows he won’t be able to hide the affect they would have on him from Clark. Not in his current vulnerable state anyway.

“Are you sorry?”

Damn him. “Clark, I…” He stutters to a halt because he’s not sorry, not at all, and he’s having a hard time forming the lie with Clark kneeling by his half naked body and staring at him with those beautiful green eyes filled with hope, desire, and a little bit of fear.

He sees Clark swallow and moisten his lips again. “It should be an easy question, Lex. I’m not sorry. I like the idea that you couldn’t look away. That you liked what you saw enough to stay and watch. And then, when you helped me! My nail just then felt soooo good, Lex. It’s just what I needed to push me over the edge, and you did it, you gave me the push.”

It’s Lex’s turn to swallow. He can’t hide his body’s reaction now and he sees Clark’s nostrils flare as precome wells out of the tip of his cock. Clark’s eyes finally leave his face and glance down his body. He reaches out a hand, but Lex grabs it, stops its journey toward his cock. It’s one of the hardest things he’s ever done.

“No, Clark. I’m not going to cross the line that far. You’re under the age of consent. No touching.”

Lex wishes he knew what his friend was thinking as he kneels by the couch so comfortably. For once though, Clark’s face isn’t easily readable. It’s getting harder and harder for Lex to keep his hips still. The urge to thrust is so strong and just getting worse as Clark stares down at him, almost like his gaze is a palpable touch on his body.

“You know, I didn’t realize that you’d helped me at first, not until I saw you driving away anyway. Even then, it didn’t really sink in for a while…that you’d helped me, I mean. I was cleaning the loft when it clicked. As soon as it did, I was hard again.”

“Oh, fuck!” Lex's hips twitch at the idea that Clark had gotten hard again so quickly.

“I had to sit back down on the couch and open my pants again. I started jerking off for a second time and using your idea from the beginning. So much of that liquid came out, Lex, just like it’s leaking out of you now. That had never happened to me before, but I liked it. It made it so much easier from my hand to move and for my thumb to slip over the head.”

That was it. Lex grabs his cock and starts thrusting into his hand. His whole body shudders as he finally gives into the need that’s been hammering at him since he’d finished climbing those stairs into Clark’s loft. “It’s called…oh, God…its called precome, Clark. When you’re really aroused, it…oh fuck…I…Clark! Jesus, Clark! Oh, God!”

Clark has ripped open Lex’s shirt, and he can’t be bothered to be coherent anymore. His hips start snapping up harder, and he’s twisting his fist on the upstroke so the sensitive underside of his cock gets the extra stimulation that he likes. Lex makes sure that his palm covers the head of his cock at the pinnacle of his thrust so it has a barrier to push against. He’s so close, and it won’t take much to make him fall over the edge.

“You’re so sexy, so gorgeous, Lex. I want to touch you so bad. Let me…”

From somewhere, Lex manages to find the strength to shake his head, but that doesn’t keep Clark from raising his hand and gliding it several inches above Lex’s skin. In spite of the distance he maintains, Lex still feels a connection between Clark’s hand and his body, like sparks are flying between them. Lex’s nipples peak when he passes over them, straining upward for his touch. Just the suggestion of that touch has Lex arching up and moaning. Lex can’t help but wonder why he’s denying Clark…and himself…again?

“I want to watch you come, Lex. I want to see you cover your hand with it like I did. I licked my hand clean, Lex. I’d never done that before either. I want to taste you too, see how different your taste is from mine. Will you let me lick your hand clean, Lex?”

It’s too much. Just the thought of Clark Kent’s luscious mouth anywhere on his body sends Lex hurtling over the edge. Lex’s eyes roll up in his head and he whites out.

When he comes to, it’s to the feeling of his hand being licked. Lex jerks in surprise that Clark is actually doing it. If he hadn’t just come, he knows the feel of Clark’s slick tongue sliding around his fingers and sucking them into that wet heat would have him hard in an instant.

“Clark. Clark! You have to stop.”

“Don’t want to, Lex. You taste so good. Much better than me.”

“No. We can’t…I...can’t let you do this.” Lex exerts some force, and Clark finally, reluctantly, lets go of his hand. Lex feels something twist inside of him, but refuses to acknowledge it. And instead of basking in the afterglow for the next half hour, which is what he really wants to do, he forces himself to sit up and put his clothing to rights. Well…his underwear and pants anyway. His shirt’s a lost cause.

Clark reaches out a finger, but stops just shy of touching his chest. “I know I should apologize for ripping your shirt, Lex, but I’m not sorry. I wanted to see more of you so much. You’re so gorgeous, Lex.”

Lex huffs out a laugh. It’s so typical of Clark to worry about something little like that. Lex’s shirt is the last thing on his mind right now. He can’t keep a warm glow from spreading through himself as the rest of what Clark said sinks in though. “Don’t worry about my shirt, Clark. Really. It’s nothing.” Lex takes a deep, fortifying breath. “You realize that…this…can’t happen again. Don’t you?”

“What?! Lex, no! You don’t mean it, do you?”

Lex grits his teeth in the face of Clark’s distress. He’s always given Clark everything he wants, but he can’t give in this time. He has to stay strong. “Yes, I mean it, Clark. I was weak to let it happen at all, but I won’t let it happen again.”

“But, Lex…”

“No, Clark. I won’t be the one responsible for corrupting you.”

“So who do you think should be the one to corrupt me then, Lex? Lana?  Chloe? Maybe…Whitney?”

Lex tries to keep his face impassive. The thought of any of those people seeing what he’d seen this evening, or doing what he wouldn’t allow himself to do, is enough to make his blood boil. That isn’t…he can’t let… Lex sighs quietly in defeat.  His father is right…he is weak. “Clark…” Lex has to stop to get his voice under control. He’s practically growling in suppressed rage at Clark’s suggestion, as well as in disappointment at his own lack of self-control. “You won’t even be at the age of consent until you’re sixteen.”

Lex sees the understanding dawning in Clark’s face and curses himself for being ten kinds of fool for letting himself be taken in by that pretty face, the beautiful smile, the sweet personality, the… Lex forces himself to stop when he realizes that he’s practically getting maudlin.

“So, when I’m sixteen…?”

“If you haven’t moved on by that point, Clark. Then yes, when you’re sixteen. Just…no touching until then.” Lex knows that it’s more than likely that Clark will develop an interest in someone else and move on soon. Teenagers have very little staying power in Lex’s experience. He ought to know, he’d been one of the worst culprits of moving on to greener pastures in his adolescence.

“Okay, Lex, no problem. We’ll still be friends, right? We can touch each other as friends too, can’t we? You know, a hand on the arm, a pat on the back, that kind of thing?”

If this had been a normal evening, Lex might have wondered about Clark’s quick capitulation, but instead he’s too focused on everything he’s learned and experienced in the last several hours. “We’ll always be friends, Clark. Never worry about that. As to the other…we might want to cool it for a few weeks, Clark. At least until the memory of this night fades some.”

“Sure, Lex. Whatever you say.”

Lex feels extremely lucky that Clark is being so reasonable about his restrictions and time table. He knows the coming months will be hard on both of them, because once you’ve had a taste of paradise it’s difficult to go back to purgatory. However, Lex also knows that with everything that goes on in this town, those months will seem to fly by.