Ficlet: Touch (Clex, R)
Title: Touch
Category: Ficlet
Pairing: Clex
Rating: R
Word Count: 584 words
Spoilers: None
Bingo: Clex bingo/clexmas
Prompt: Body part fetish
Warning/Notes: sexual acts of a non descriptive sort
Summary: Clark likes Lex's gloves, but there's something to be said for their removal (hand fetish).
The breaking point is the gloves. Not just because Lex's gloves are high quality leather, not just because they stretch nearly to the elbow and show off not just the grace of his hands but the strength of his forearm.
What hits Clark at first sight and stays with him through the long drive to Metropolis and the torturous duration of the party and the trip back to the penthouse is that those gloves hide the hands underneath. They smooth out the whorls of Lex's fingerprints, soften the sharpness of the wrist joint, disguise the strength and interfere with the dexterity of the fingers.
Clark simultaneously wants the gloves on his skin and to tear them off with his teeth.
"I didn't think you'd be able to get into character," Lex said.
Clark dragged his eyes away from Lex's hands by the long, and very distracting route of his arms with a detour at his neck, the first bit of bare skin above the body-hugging suit of his costume. "Hm?" he asked when he finally got his gaze at a level to meet Lex's.
Lex opened his mouth, but then said nothing for a moment. He raised a hand to his mouth and brushed his thumb against his lips, which made it impossible for Clark to pay attention to the words that finally came. He did catch the flash of a smile, but only because Lex's teeth framed the dark blue of the glove.
He gave up on higher mental functioning before they left the Smallville limits, Lex's fingers curled around the steering wheel
While he's focused on the hand at Lex's mouth, the other is out of sight. It's a surprise when fingers press against his mouth, warm and bare, bereft of leather though they still have the smell of it. He opens his mouth when the pressure increases, lets two of Lex's fingers into his mouth until they touch his tongue and then it's less about 'letting' them into his mouth and more about sucking on them with enough force to prevent their withdraw.
Lex utters what could be a curse or a benediction. He tugs Clark closer and presses his own mouth against Clark's jaw, nips a line down to his neck. The sucking heat of his mouth is fantastic, but it's a distant thing compared to the vague sweat-salt tang of his fingers in Clark's mouth, the faint scent of musk from the handjob he'd given Clark before they left the mansion.
It's perfect, it's everything Clark's wanted for hours with one minor variance, but then Lex's other hand slips past the belt and the top of his tights and jock and curls around him, enclosing him in soft leather and a firm hand.
Clark moans against the fingers in his mouth and shudders his release.
* * *
"In my personal canon, this is exactly how the comics end," Lex says, voice still low and with the edge of a purr that denotes the fact he's still enjoying the build up of arousal.
"How is that?" Clark asks, only mildly curious as to whether Lex already made his point and Clark missed it or if he's working his way there.
"Devilicus and Warrior Angel, reconciled."
"Sealed with a handjob instead of a handshake?"
"No need to mix blood for a pact when semen should-" Clark muffles the rest of the words before Lex can continue and he keeps kissing him until he can draw back without Lex attempting to speak again.
Category: Ficlet
Pairing: Clex
Rating: R
Word Count: 584 words
Spoilers: None
Bingo: Clex bingo/clexmas
Prompt: Body part fetish
Warning/Notes: sexual acts of a non descriptive sort
Summary: Clark likes Lex's gloves, but there's something to be said for their removal (hand fetish).
The breaking point is the gloves. Not just because Lex's gloves are high quality leather, not just because they stretch nearly to the elbow and show off not just the grace of his hands but the strength of his forearm.
What hits Clark at first sight and stays with him through the long drive to Metropolis and the torturous duration of the party and the trip back to the penthouse is that those gloves hide the hands underneath. They smooth out the whorls of Lex's fingerprints, soften the sharpness of the wrist joint, disguise the strength and interfere with the dexterity of the fingers.
Clark simultaneously wants the gloves on his skin and to tear them off with his teeth.
"I didn't think you'd be able to get into character," Lex said.
Clark dragged his eyes away from Lex's hands by the long, and very distracting route of his arms with a detour at his neck, the first bit of bare skin above the body-hugging suit of his costume. "Hm?" he asked when he finally got his gaze at a level to meet Lex's.
Lex opened his mouth, but then said nothing for a moment. He raised a hand to his mouth and brushed his thumb against his lips, which made it impossible for Clark to pay attention to the words that finally came. He did catch the flash of a smile, but only because Lex's teeth framed the dark blue of the glove.
He gave up on higher mental functioning before they left the Smallville limits, Lex's fingers curled around the steering wheel
While he's focused on the hand at Lex's mouth, the other is out of sight. It's a surprise when fingers press against his mouth, warm and bare, bereft of leather though they still have the smell of it. He opens his mouth when the pressure increases, lets two of Lex's fingers into his mouth until they touch his tongue and then it's less about 'letting' them into his mouth and more about sucking on them with enough force to prevent their withdraw.
Lex utters what could be a curse or a benediction. He tugs Clark closer and presses his own mouth against Clark's jaw, nips a line down to his neck. The sucking heat of his mouth is fantastic, but it's a distant thing compared to the vague sweat-salt tang of his fingers in Clark's mouth, the faint scent of musk from the handjob he'd given Clark before they left the mansion.
It's perfect, it's everything Clark's wanted for hours with one minor variance, but then Lex's other hand slips past the belt and the top of his tights and jock and curls around him, enclosing him in soft leather and a firm hand.
Clark moans against the fingers in his mouth and shudders his release.
* * *
"In my personal canon, this is exactly how the comics end," Lex says, voice still low and with the edge of a purr that denotes the fact he's still enjoying the build up of arousal.
"How is that?" Clark asks, only mildly curious as to whether Lex already made his point and Clark missed it or if he's working his way there.
"Devilicus and Warrior Angel, reconciled."
"Sealed with a handjob instead of a handshake?"
"No need to mix blood for a pact when semen should-" Clark muffles the rest of the words before Lex can continue and he keeps kissing him until he can draw back without Lex attempting to speak again.