Emergence: Part 7b/7
I've messed with this part as much as I possibly can, which was a lot. There's a part c coming after this and an epilogue, because I can't leave well enough alone and always find something else I want to add.
So, we finally move on to the adult portion of the story (did you think I was going to write one without some sort of smut?)
(I should have added this warning earlier, but better late than never. There are elements of non-con in this part, so anyone with sensitivities, please be warned.)
On to part 7b.
Clark flew. Just flew fast and blind and wasn't even sure how far he'd gone, how many times he might have circled the globe, before he crashed down, feet creating trenches in hard earth, someplace dark and desolated. He couldn't be around anything breakable now. Had to get as far away from Lex as he could because he'd been seeing red - - was still seeing red - - was feeling it surging through his veins like acid and it seared - - the words seared, that had spewed from Lex's mouth.
There was a wall of shale in the darkness and Clark surged forward and hit it and the cliff face crumbled. He hit it again and again, shattering rock, driving into solid earth, hurling the huge slabs that slid down around him away into the darkness.
He'd wanted truth - - but not that truth. Not that way, with Lex standing there hurling casual knives like Clark meant nothing. Like they'd meant nothing. Like Lex couldn't be expected to wait more than the allotted few months Clark had said he'd be gone, before giving up on him.
The images of the photographs flashed through Clark's head, branded there along with the graphic details that his imagination supplied. He slammed his forehead against splintered rock and sobbed. Tasted the salty wetness of tears and hated Lex for doing this to him. To them. Because it had been good. It had been the best thing in Clark's life and to Lex, it was just one more disposable thing to throw away.
Untrustworthy, lying, cheating bastard, who'd stood there and looked Clark straight in the eye and said - - those things. Not in a committed relationship. A few meaningless fucks.
Clark replayed it in his mind, imagined casual malice in the glint of Lex's eyes, in the set of his mouth. Like he'd been aiming to wound. He always did. You didn't fight with Lex unless you were willing to take casualties.
A few meaningless fucks. Like there was any such thing, when you got that close to another person. But maybe, to Lex, it just didn't matter. Maybe to Lex, a lot of things just didn't matter and Clark had been fooling himself.
He drove a fist in again and shattered more rock, wished he were vulnerable enough to feel the pain in his hand, to have his knuckles bleed. Anything to distract from the pain in his heart.
A few meaningless fucks. Lex's shirt had been half unbuttoned, the dim light of the room making interesting shadows; the long line of his throat, the subtle curve of pectorals. Skin so smooth with its utter lack of hair under that shirt, that a man might loose himself in just touching. Smooth everywhere and Lex didn't admit it, but he was sensitive about that lack, and yet it didn't stop him from getting naked with strangers. To let strangers lay their hands on what was Clark's. Inviting them in when all he'd done since Clark had gotten back was push him away. As if Clark's absence had been some spiteful thing designed to hurt him. And maybe in his convoluted mind, it had been.
A meaningless fuck. Clark ought to show him the true meaning of the phrase. One last time, hard and rough, the way Lex liked it, just to let him know what he'd thrown away. He curled his fists, hissing, his body liking that idea all too much. Fury was as good a fuel for an erection, as passion, it seemed and his was threatening to pop the zipper of his jeans.
He went from zero to mach 50 before the decision had fully formed in his mind. Arced up high in the atmosphere where the air was too thin to breathe, to get his bearings, focused on the dark swath of the Midwest United States that was in the midst of blackout, and barreled down towards the spot he knew Metropolis to be.
This time when he landed on the balcony, stone splintered under his feet and he didn't bother with tapping on the French doors. Just smashed them half off the hinges, and stalked in. Lex was sprawled in an armchair, a collection of little liquor bottles on the table next to him, a glass of something halfway to his lips. He opened his mouth in protest maybe, or question, but Clark didn't care, didn't give him time to formulate the words, before he was there, smacking the glass out of Lex's hand, and yanking him up. He slammed him against the wall, not so hard to break, just enough to hurt, held him off his feet, fingers biting into his biceps deep enough that there would be bruises come tomorrow.
"Clark - -" Lex gasped past the air he'd probably lost when back impacted wall.
Clark didn't want to hear him talk. Lex's talking would only make it worse. So he lunged in, covering Lex's mouth, a one sided, demanding kiss that had nothing to do with love and everything to do with shutting Lex up, of letting him know just exactly who was in charge here.
But Lex was never passive in anything, even when he was the decided underdog in a match of physical prowess. He met Clark's kiss, sucking in his tongue, biting in a way that would have hurt anyone else, but just made Clark crazy. Tried to get his hands on Clark's shirt, but having his arms pinned to the wall made it an awkward reach.
Clark slammed against him, full body, driving the air out of him again, grinding his jean-clad erection against him. Lex groaned into his mouth, a desperate grab for air that he was probably in short supply of now, and Clark let him have it, diverting his mouth to the juncture of Lex's shoulder, ripping the collar away to bare pale flesh. Let him slid down the wall, so Clark had hands free to destroy the rest of Lex's buttons. Ripped the shirt down the front and slid his hands up under the flaps, fingertips dragging across leanly muscled ribs, down angular hips, pressing his thumbs into the concave of hip and belly, and Lex sucked in breath and ground his hips against Clark, hands fumbling with Clark's shirt, trying to get it up and off when Clark wasn't cooperating.
But this wasn't Lex's game and he didn't get to call the plays and it annoyed Clark that he was trying. Clark spun them both, faster than human equilibrium could compensate, and tossed Lex towards the bed. Was on him before the mattress had the chance to bounce him back up, hand pressed to his back to keep him face down. He slid a hand between Lex's belly and the mattress, felt the length of the hard-on beneath his pants and wondered how many other people had been allowed to feel him up. He gave it a squeeze and Lex spasmed under him, stifling a groan against the comforter. Clark reached for the belt, mangled the buckle in his haste to get it off, mangled the seams of the slacks since he was destroying Lex's wardrobe anyway.
"Goddamnit, Clark - -" Lex complained, either fighting that forceful removal or trying to help, Clark wasn't sure which and didn't care either way if the end result was Lex naked.
He resettled, big brown hand splayed out across the smooth skin of Lex's back. There were a lot of little bruises, from faint yellow brown to deeper purple, that made him hesitate for a second, brows drawn, before Lex's fine, tight ass right there before the straining bulge in Clark's pants snagged his attention. He unzipped and his dick burst free, pink and swollen and damned frustrated at being cooped up for so long.
Clark leaned down, palms on the mattress on either side of Lex's shoulders and asked. "Any of those 'meaningless fucks' push you around how you like? Huh, Lex?"
"Better than you," Lex ground out, panting, trying to push up against Clark and failing.
Clark ground his own teeth, metaphysical blood drawn. He hissed and sat back up, pulling off his shirt, damned and determined to keep the upper hand. He shifted his hips, wedging his dick between the cheeks of Lex's ass, shut his eyes in a moment of bliss, at the sensation of warm flesh, close around him.
But not as warm and not as tight as Lex would be on the inside. It was enough to make him slick with pre-cum, and God, if the first food he'd eaten after a year in the matrix had made him a little stiff - - this, this was setting off sporadic fireworks throughout the length and breadth of his nervous system.
God, Lex felt good. He smelled good and it was damned annoying when Clark was trying to hate him. It added a little surge of desperation to his anger. He'd always been careful of Lex, even when Lex hadn't wanted him to be, but now, if he drew a little blood - - it seemed fair retaliation for what Lex had done.
He ran his fingers over the tip of his dick, slicking them with glistening pre-come, leaned over and sank his teeth into Lex's shoulder as he twisted two fingers inside. Lex hissed, pressing his face into the comforter. Clark scissored his fingers, no gentle preparation, then pulled out, pushed himself up and pressed the head of his dick where his fingers had been.
Lex shuddered under him, fingers curling in the covers, shoving his hips up and trying to force the issue. Clark clamped a hand on his hip, keeping him still and Lex cursed. Clark took his own time then, sliding in, forcing his way past contracting muscle that had no real chance at keeping him at bay. Lex writhed under him, muscles gathering, releasing, never a passive participant even when Clark was holding him down.
Once the tip was in, the rest of him slid in with little resistance, just the tight grasp of muscle around him, swallowing him and holding him. And God, it was mind-blowing, and nothing the AI's matrix had done to him quite equaled this. He started moving, hard, fast, so long deprived that all his reasoning devolved in the animal frenzy of just rutting.
He wedged himself between Lex's spread legs and drove in. Caught Lex's hands when he tried to work them down between the mattress and his hips to jerk himself off and trapped them at his sides. Lex whimpered a little at that, halting sounds that turned to gasps with the apex of each hard thrust.
Clark came too fast, but it had been a long time since he'd engaged in sexual activity. He strained there, as deep into Lex as he could get and emptied himself, spurt after spurt, thoughts tumbling into that white-hot blaze of euphoria that he always experienced upon a really good climax. He hung his head and breathed afterwards, heart pounding harder than it had when he'd been busting meteors. And still, he was hard. Still encased in Lex. Still hungry, and the compulsive need to eat he'd felt earlier had nothing on this. He felt himself swelling again, and Lex moaned under him, trying to twist his wrists free of Clark's grip.
"Goddamn you - - just let me - -"
"Shut up, Lex." Clark leaned down, mouth close to his ear and Lex grunted as the angle of Clark cock inside him changed. "So how many people did you let fuck you?"
Lex bared his teeth. There was the faint trace of wetness at the corner of the one eye his profile revealed. "Is it shut up, or is it talk, Clark?"
"You can answer my question."
"You really want me to?"
Clark pulled back and rammed in hard. The bed scraped a few inches across the floor, the headboard slamming into the wall. Lex gasped, eyes rolling back in their sockets.
"You wanna rethink that?" Clark pulled back slow, rammed back in, the headboard clunked again against the wall.
"God - - God, no one. No one fucked me, Clark." There was the faintest trace of panic in Lex's voice, the inkling maybe that Clark was close to that edge where he might stop caring if Lex broke a little. That every time Clark thought about someone else pressing Lex down and fucking him, the red around the edges of his vision turned darker and bloodier. "There were only women. They didn't matter - -"
"Everybody matters, Lex. Don't you get that?" He withdrew, slammed home again and a few little chunks of plaster dislodged from the wall.
"Please - - " Lex was panting, pressing his face against the comforter. A theft, when Clark wanted to see his expression and that burgeoning grain of realization. He pulled out fast enough to hurt and flipped Lex over, hooked his knees and loomed over, bending him double, before Lex had managed to finish his exclamation of surprise. He lined himself up, jeans down around his thighs now, uncut head of his dick prodding Lex's swollen entrance while he stared down into Lex's face.
"Please what, Lex?"
Lex stared up, cheeks flushed, eyes a little glazed, certainly not spitting the indignation they had at the beginning of this. The tip of Lex's dick was prodding Clark's belly, leaking and hot and neglected. He shut his eyes, the tip of his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip.
Clark denied the urge to dip down and suck that lip into mouth, shook Lex a little instead and repeated. "Please what, Lex?"
The eyes snapped back open, ocean blue in the shadow, wary and a little bit desperate.
"Just fuck me. Let me get off. Or kick my ass the old fashioned way - - I'm going to feel it tomorrow either way."
Clark almost laughed at that. He didn't think Lex had meant it to be particularly humorous. He went with the first suggestion, slid back in slow and smooth as silk and Lex's head went back, the arch of his neck just too tempting for Clark not to bend down and bite. Gentle. Teeth and lips and tongue along the big vein and Lex shuddered full body and his fingers tangled in Clark's hair, across Clark's shoulders, nails raking everywhere he could reach.
Clark picked up his rhythm, fast, hard thrusts that made the bed squeak, caused Lex to make those breathless sex noises he made when he stopped rationalizing everything and got swallowed up by the experience. Lots of little 'God- - Fuck - - God - - Clark's', that would have made Clark's head swell a bit at the associations his name was being clumped in with, but right now just made him angry. Because Damnit, why did Lex have to go out of his way to screw things up.
He reached between them, caught Lex's bobbing dick and Lex arched under him like he'd been tasered. He began to stroke, firm grip on slick, satin smooth skin. Lex was looking for handholds wherever he could find them, Clark's shoulders, the bed covers. Language had deteriorated completely and when he came, it ripped through his body hard enough that Clark felt it from the inside. Long pearly spurts of come that spattered both their chests. And it was indescribably hot, seeing it glistening and wet against Lex's pale skin. Hot enough to trigger his second orgasm, and this time he pulled out, and spilled across Lex's belly, a commingling of ejaculation.
He was mostly flaccid after that - - mostly. But he had his wits about him, which was more than he could say for Lex, who was a sprawl of loose limbs and ragged breath, lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks.
And Clark had had plans. He'd come here with an agenda. Give Lex his meaningless fuck, 'one more for your collection', whispered in his ear, before Clark took off, never to come back. Ever. But it was harder than he'd expected and the concept of 'ever' hurt. A lot. He ground his teeth in frustration, pushed himself off the bed and stood there, staring at the black night out beyond the shattered French doors.
Confusion welled in his head, along with an army of other disparate emotions. Hate, jealousy, pain, lust, frustration - - a dozen other sparks of feeling, and not least among them - - love. It wasn't like he could just turn it off. It wasn't like love hadn't been the thing that had made him crazy to begin with.
God knew what it had snarled up in Lex's head, who didn't believe in it, and who had gone the better part of a year thinking the worst. Because Lex always assumed the worst. Always assumed that the people closest to him were the ones most likely to stab him in the back. To betray him.
So when in doubt, naturally he struck first.
To be continued . . .
So, we finally move on to the adult portion of the story (did you think I was going to write one without some sort of smut?)
(I should have added this warning earlier, but better late than never. There are elements of non-con in this part, so anyone with sensitivities, please be warned.)
On to part 7b.
Clark flew. Just flew fast and blind and wasn't even sure how far he'd gone, how many times he might have circled the globe, before he crashed down, feet creating trenches in hard earth, someplace dark and desolated. He couldn't be around anything breakable now. Had to get as far away from Lex as he could because he'd been seeing red - - was still seeing red - - was feeling it surging through his veins like acid and it seared - - the words seared, that had spewed from Lex's mouth.
There was a wall of shale in the darkness and Clark surged forward and hit it and the cliff face crumbled. He hit it again and again, shattering rock, driving into solid earth, hurling the huge slabs that slid down around him away into the darkness.
He'd wanted truth - - but not that truth. Not that way, with Lex standing there hurling casual knives like Clark meant nothing. Like they'd meant nothing. Like Lex couldn't be expected to wait more than the allotted few months Clark had said he'd be gone, before giving up on him.
The images of the photographs flashed through Clark's head, branded there along with the graphic details that his imagination supplied. He slammed his forehead against splintered rock and sobbed. Tasted the salty wetness of tears and hated Lex for doing this to him. To them. Because it had been good. It had been the best thing in Clark's life and to Lex, it was just one more disposable thing to throw away.
Untrustworthy, lying, cheating bastard, who'd stood there and looked Clark straight in the eye and said - - those things. Not in a committed relationship. A few meaningless fucks.
Clark replayed it in his mind, imagined casual malice in the glint of Lex's eyes, in the set of his mouth. Like he'd been aiming to wound. He always did. You didn't fight with Lex unless you were willing to take casualties.
A few meaningless fucks. Like there was any such thing, when you got that close to another person. But maybe, to Lex, it just didn't matter. Maybe to Lex, a lot of things just didn't matter and Clark had been fooling himself.
He drove a fist in again and shattered more rock, wished he were vulnerable enough to feel the pain in his hand, to have his knuckles bleed. Anything to distract from the pain in his heart.
A few meaningless fucks. Lex's shirt had been half unbuttoned, the dim light of the room making interesting shadows; the long line of his throat, the subtle curve of pectorals. Skin so smooth with its utter lack of hair under that shirt, that a man might loose himself in just touching. Smooth everywhere and Lex didn't admit it, but he was sensitive about that lack, and yet it didn't stop him from getting naked with strangers. To let strangers lay their hands on what was Clark's. Inviting them in when all he'd done since Clark had gotten back was push him away. As if Clark's absence had been some spiteful thing designed to hurt him. And maybe in his convoluted mind, it had been.
A meaningless fuck. Clark ought to show him the true meaning of the phrase. One last time, hard and rough, the way Lex liked it, just to let him know what he'd thrown away. He curled his fists, hissing, his body liking that idea all too much. Fury was as good a fuel for an erection, as passion, it seemed and his was threatening to pop the zipper of his jeans.
He went from zero to mach 50 before the decision had fully formed in his mind. Arced up high in the atmosphere where the air was too thin to breathe, to get his bearings, focused on the dark swath of the Midwest United States that was in the midst of blackout, and barreled down towards the spot he knew Metropolis to be.
This time when he landed on the balcony, stone splintered under his feet and he didn't bother with tapping on the French doors. Just smashed them half off the hinges, and stalked in. Lex was sprawled in an armchair, a collection of little liquor bottles on the table next to him, a glass of something halfway to his lips. He opened his mouth in protest maybe, or question, but Clark didn't care, didn't give him time to formulate the words, before he was there, smacking the glass out of Lex's hand, and yanking him up. He slammed him against the wall, not so hard to break, just enough to hurt, held him off his feet, fingers biting into his biceps deep enough that there would be bruises come tomorrow.
"Clark - -" Lex gasped past the air he'd probably lost when back impacted wall.
Clark didn't want to hear him talk. Lex's talking would only make it worse. So he lunged in, covering Lex's mouth, a one sided, demanding kiss that had nothing to do with love and everything to do with shutting Lex up, of letting him know just exactly who was in charge here.
But Lex was never passive in anything, even when he was the decided underdog in a match of physical prowess. He met Clark's kiss, sucking in his tongue, biting in a way that would have hurt anyone else, but just made Clark crazy. Tried to get his hands on Clark's shirt, but having his arms pinned to the wall made it an awkward reach.
Clark slammed against him, full body, driving the air out of him again, grinding his jean-clad erection against him. Lex groaned into his mouth, a desperate grab for air that he was probably in short supply of now, and Clark let him have it, diverting his mouth to the juncture of Lex's shoulder, ripping the collar away to bare pale flesh. Let him slid down the wall, so Clark had hands free to destroy the rest of Lex's buttons. Ripped the shirt down the front and slid his hands up under the flaps, fingertips dragging across leanly muscled ribs, down angular hips, pressing his thumbs into the concave of hip and belly, and Lex sucked in breath and ground his hips against Clark, hands fumbling with Clark's shirt, trying to get it up and off when Clark wasn't cooperating.
But this wasn't Lex's game and he didn't get to call the plays and it annoyed Clark that he was trying. Clark spun them both, faster than human equilibrium could compensate, and tossed Lex towards the bed. Was on him before the mattress had the chance to bounce him back up, hand pressed to his back to keep him face down. He slid a hand between Lex's belly and the mattress, felt the length of the hard-on beneath his pants and wondered how many other people had been allowed to feel him up. He gave it a squeeze and Lex spasmed under him, stifling a groan against the comforter. Clark reached for the belt, mangled the buckle in his haste to get it off, mangled the seams of the slacks since he was destroying Lex's wardrobe anyway.
"Goddamnit, Clark - -" Lex complained, either fighting that forceful removal or trying to help, Clark wasn't sure which and didn't care either way if the end result was Lex naked.
He resettled, big brown hand splayed out across the smooth skin of Lex's back. There were a lot of little bruises, from faint yellow brown to deeper purple, that made him hesitate for a second, brows drawn, before Lex's fine, tight ass right there before the straining bulge in Clark's pants snagged his attention. He unzipped and his dick burst free, pink and swollen and damned frustrated at being cooped up for so long.
Clark leaned down, palms on the mattress on either side of Lex's shoulders and asked. "Any of those 'meaningless fucks' push you around how you like? Huh, Lex?"
"Better than you," Lex ground out, panting, trying to push up against Clark and failing.
Clark ground his own teeth, metaphysical blood drawn. He hissed and sat back up, pulling off his shirt, damned and determined to keep the upper hand. He shifted his hips, wedging his dick between the cheeks of Lex's ass, shut his eyes in a moment of bliss, at the sensation of warm flesh, close around him.
But not as warm and not as tight as Lex would be on the inside. It was enough to make him slick with pre-cum, and God, if the first food he'd eaten after a year in the matrix had made him a little stiff - - this, this was setting off sporadic fireworks throughout the length and breadth of his nervous system.
God, Lex felt good. He smelled good and it was damned annoying when Clark was trying to hate him. It added a little surge of desperation to his anger. He'd always been careful of Lex, even when Lex hadn't wanted him to be, but now, if he drew a little blood - - it seemed fair retaliation for what Lex had done.
He ran his fingers over the tip of his dick, slicking them with glistening pre-come, leaned over and sank his teeth into Lex's shoulder as he twisted two fingers inside. Lex hissed, pressing his face into the comforter. Clark scissored his fingers, no gentle preparation, then pulled out, pushed himself up and pressed the head of his dick where his fingers had been.
Lex shuddered under him, fingers curling in the covers, shoving his hips up and trying to force the issue. Clark clamped a hand on his hip, keeping him still and Lex cursed. Clark took his own time then, sliding in, forcing his way past contracting muscle that had no real chance at keeping him at bay. Lex writhed under him, muscles gathering, releasing, never a passive participant even when Clark was holding him down.
Once the tip was in, the rest of him slid in with little resistance, just the tight grasp of muscle around him, swallowing him and holding him. And God, it was mind-blowing, and nothing the AI's matrix had done to him quite equaled this. He started moving, hard, fast, so long deprived that all his reasoning devolved in the animal frenzy of just rutting.
He wedged himself between Lex's spread legs and drove in. Caught Lex's hands when he tried to work them down between the mattress and his hips to jerk himself off and trapped them at his sides. Lex whimpered a little at that, halting sounds that turned to gasps with the apex of each hard thrust.
Clark came too fast, but it had been a long time since he'd engaged in sexual activity. He strained there, as deep into Lex as he could get and emptied himself, spurt after spurt, thoughts tumbling into that white-hot blaze of euphoria that he always experienced upon a really good climax. He hung his head and breathed afterwards, heart pounding harder than it had when he'd been busting meteors. And still, he was hard. Still encased in Lex. Still hungry, and the compulsive need to eat he'd felt earlier had nothing on this. He felt himself swelling again, and Lex moaned under him, trying to twist his wrists free of Clark's grip.
"Goddamn you - - just let me - -"
"Shut up, Lex." Clark leaned down, mouth close to his ear and Lex grunted as the angle of Clark cock inside him changed. "So how many people did you let fuck you?"
Lex bared his teeth. There was the faint trace of wetness at the corner of the one eye his profile revealed. "Is it shut up, or is it talk, Clark?"
"You can answer my question."
"You really want me to?"
Clark pulled back and rammed in hard. The bed scraped a few inches across the floor, the headboard slamming into the wall. Lex gasped, eyes rolling back in their sockets.
"You wanna rethink that?" Clark pulled back slow, rammed back in, the headboard clunked again against the wall.
"God - - God, no one. No one fucked me, Clark." There was the faintest trace of panic in Lex's voice, the inkling maybe that Clark was close to that edge where he might stop caring if Lex broke a little. That every time Clark thought about someone else pressing Lex down and fucking him, the red around the edges of his vision turned darker and bloodier. "There were only women. They didn't matter - -"
"Everybody matters, Lex. Don't you get that?" He withdrew, slammed home again and a few little chunks of plaster dislodged from the wall.
"Please - - " Lex was panting, pressing his face against the comforter. A theft, when Clark wanted to see his expression and that burgeoning grain of realization. He pulled out fast enough to hurt and flipped Lex over, hooked his knees and loomed over, bending him double, before Lex had managed to finish his exclamation of surprise. He lined himself up, jeans down around his thighs now, uncut head of his dick prodding Lex's swollen entrance while he stared down into Lex's face.
"Please what, Lex?"
Lex stared up, cheeks flushed, eyes a little glazed, certainly not spitting the indignation they had at the beginning of this. The tip of Lex's dick was prodding Clark's belly, leaking and hot and neglected. He shut his eyes, the tip of his tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip.
Clark denied the urge to dip down and suck that lip into mouth, shook Lex a little instead and repeated. "Please what, Lex?"
The eyes snapped back open, ocean blue in the shadow, wary and a little bit desperate.
"Just fuck me. Let me get off. Or kick my ass the old fashioned way - - I'm going to feel it tomorrow either way."
Clark almost laughed at that. He didn't think Lex had meant it to be particularly humorous. He went with the first suggestion, slid back in slow and smooth as silk and Lex's head went back, the arch of his neck just too tempting for Clark not to bend down and bite. Gentle. Teeth and lips and tongue along the big vein and Lex shuddered full body and his fingers tangled in Clark's hair, across Clark's shoulders, nails raking everywhere he could reach.
Clark picked up his rhythm, fast, hard thrusts that made the bed squeak, caused Lex to make those breathless sex noises he made when he stopped rationalizing everything and got swallowed up by the experience. Lots of little 'God- - Fuck - - God - - Clark's', that would have made Clark's head swell a bit at the associations his name was being clumped in with, but right now just made him angry. Because Damnit, why did Lex have to go out of his way to screw things up.
He reached between them, caught Lex's bobbing dick and Lex arched under him like he'd been tasered. He began to stroke, firm grip on slick, satin smooth skin. Lex was looking for handholds wherever he could find them, Clark's shoulders, the bed covers. Language had deteriorated completely and when he came, it ripped through his body hard enough that Clark felt it from the inside. Long pearly spurts of come that spattered both their chests. And it was indescribably hot, seeing it glistening and wet against Lex's pale skin. Hot enough to trigger his second orgasm, and this time he pulled out, and spilled across Lex's belly, a commingling of ejaculation.
He was mostly flaccid after that - - mostly. But he had his wits about him, which was more than he could say for Lex, who was a sprawl of loose limbs and ragged breath, lashes fluttering against flushed cheeks.
And Clark had had plans. He'd come here with an agenda. Give Lex his meaningless fuck, 'one more for your collection', whispered in his ear, before Clark took off, never to come back. Ever. But it was harder than he'd expected and the concept of 'ever' hurt. A lot. He ground his teeth in frustration, pushed himself off the bed and stood there, staring at the black night out beyond the shattered French doors.
Confusion welled in his head, along with an army of other disparate emotions. Hate, jealousy, pain, lust, frustration - - a dozen other sparks of feeling, and not least among them - - love. It wasn't like he could just turn it off. It wasn't like love hadn't been the thing that had made him crazy to begin with.
God knew what it had snarled up in Lex's head, who didn't believe in it, and who had gone the better part of a year thinking the worst. Because Lex always assumed the worst. Always assumed that the people closest to him were the ones most likely to stab him in the back. To betray him.
So when in doubt, naturally he struck first.
To be continued . . .