Holiday Fluff Advent Style: Day Three (SV)
The holiday fluff continues!
Day Three: Yes, Clark, There is a Santa Claus, SV, Clark/Lex, R
Day Three: Yes, Clark, There is a Santa Claus
by Lenore
Clark woke to the sensation of the earth moving, which upon further inspection, one eye groggily open, was actually Lex, sprawled on the bed next to him, naked and deep asleep.
"What the-- heck?"
He was glad he hadn't used the word he was actually thinking when he glanced up and realized they weren't alone, a pudgy guy in a red velvet suit with white fur trim standing at the foot of the bed. Although the near heart attack of finding someone dressed as Santa in his bedroom in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve came close to jolting another stream of words his mother wouldn't approve of out of him.
"Who are you? What are you doing here? How did you get in? And what have you done to Lex?"
Normally he referred to his nemesis by his last name, to keep a clear distinction in his head between the man now and the younger version he'd once called a friend, but distancing mechanisms seemed pointless when they were naked and between the sheets together.
The Santa character pressed his finger to his lips, turned and jumped out the window. Clark leaped up, ready to charge to the rescue, when what to his wondering eye should appear but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer?
He promptly lost his battle with profanity, "Son of a bitch."
"Your mother would be so proud," a sleepy voice came from the bed, making Clark whirl around. "By the way, could you tell me how I got here?"
"You'll never believe me."
Lex put on his "I'm waiting" expression, and Clark let out his breath.
"Fine. Santa brought you to me, okay? Naked and plopped into my bed like an X-rated present. There. I said it. Go ahead and laugh or call me crazy or," he threw up his hands, "whatever."
Lex pushed up onto his elbows, looking interested. "Hmm. I think, actually, the present may have been for me."
Clark stared. "What?"
"There was one of those Santas collecting money for charity outside the LuthorCorp Tower, and I don't know why, but I stopped. Some momentary weakness. When I put some bills into the kettle, he told me to make a wish, and this," his eyes traveled over Clark's body, and only then did Clark remember, with a rush of heat to his cheeks, that he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing, "is playing rather fast and loose with my request, but I must say, I appreciate the improvisation."
"You can't be serious."
Lex shrugged. "I wished I could have just one conversation with you that didn't devolve into threats and name calling, and here were are. It seems like more than a coincidence."
"But you hate me!" Clark insisted, incredulous that he'd figure anywhere in Lex's holiday wish making.
Lex corrected, "Mild annoyance, at most."
"You do so hate me. You just don't realize--"
"It's more of a bad case of pique with your alter-ego, Clark. Not actual hatred."
Clark's mouth fell open before he could marshal the usual denials.
"Oh, yes," Lex said breezily, "I know all about that. What do you take me for? An idiot?"
Clark strode over to the bed, frowning. "You called me power-mad alien scum!"
A familiar light sparked in Lex's eyes. "You called me an egomaniacal basket case!"
"Because you keep trying to take over the world!"
"Because I can't get your attention any other way!"
"Well, you should have tried this!" He swept out his arm.
Lex shifted positions, giving Clark a better view. "I'm here now." His smile was softly come-hither.
Clark had always been more of a doer than a thinker, and it was no different now. He was on Lex in a blur, not stopping to consider whether this was wise a move or not. A decade of repressed desire could affect a person's decision-making ability. Clark ran a hand up Lex's side and kissed down his neck and murmured a broken mix of "God, what took you so long" and "this better not be a trick."
"No trick," Lex murmured, sucking at Clark's nipple.
Clark shuddered, so good, and he rubbed his dick against Lex's hip. "You know, it would really make me happy if you'd stop blowing stuff up. And if you'd kiss me. Not necessarily in that order."
Lex hooked a leg behind Clark's knee and flipped him over onto his back. He always had been a genius at the sneak attack. Only this time, it involved licking Clark's bottom lip and nipping at the top lip and stroking his tongue against Clark's until he was shuddering again, so Clark didn't really mind so much.
"How about in lieu of blowing things up I just blow you instead?" Lex cracked a smiled and was already moving down Clark's body.
A moan rattled around in Clark's chest at the flick of Lex' tongue on his belly. "That would be-- good."
Lex tilted his head. "Oh, I think you can do better than that, Clark."
He fingered Clark's shaft and tracked a pattern with his tongue and started to suck, and by the time Clark came, "fuck" was pretty much the only word he could remember. Oh, fuck yeah. Lex. That's so fucking good. Please. Yeah. Let me fuck your mouth, and you can fuck my ass. Lex! Oooooh, fuck!
When they were finished much, much later, Lex pulled another surprise, not immediately jumping up from bed and commandeering some clothes and calling his limo as Clark expected. Instead, he lingered in bed, one leg thrown over Clark's, his chin resting on Clark's shoulder.
"If I'd known how filthy mouthed you really are, I think it might have improved our relationship," he mused.
Clark made a face at him. "I only get like that when I'm really--"
But Lex was already looking far too satisfied with himself to finish that thought.
"Tell me you didn't set this up," he said, a little too pleadingly. "Tell me so I'll believe you."
Lex took him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye and said very slowly, with impeccable diction, "I did not set this up."
"So you mean--"
"It would appear so." He wound his arm around Clark's waist and closed his eyes. "There really is a Santa Claus, Clark."
Clark snuffled a laugh against his temple. "Okay, okay, I don't care if you set it up. I'm just glad you're here."
They fell asleep, and if just before dawn, Clark could have sworn he heard sleigh bells and a booming voice calling out, "on Dancer, on Prancer, on Comet and Blitzen," he kept that information to himself.