Gift for LadyONeill! Fly by Night
Title: Fly by Night
From: To Be Revealed! Tasabian
For: LadyONeill
Type: Fic, 2618
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Summary: Nocturnal wanderings cause Clark to take a drastic step.
Request: Reunion after being miserable without each other
Note: (I hope you like this! I'm not very skilled with angst & my apologies for any errant schmoop.)
Fly by Night
The first time it happens, Clark has been awake for a week straight, fending off an alien invasion. He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow; when he wakes, his head is resting on gravel. It takes a long moment to sink in that he's sprawled in the driveway that leads to the Luthor mansion.
The lights are all off; Lex isn't there. Clark shakes the dirt from his hair and flies home to Metropolis.
The next time it happens, Clark awakens with his cheek pressed to something cool and the sound of conversation in the distance. There's blue light behind his eyelids. This is a laboratory and those are footsteps coming towards him: those are Lex's footsteps and that's Lex's voice, talking with a group of people in lab coats. Clark blurs away before they reach him.
The third time, Clark wakes to find himself standing over a sleeping Lex. For an instant, he thinks he's dreaming - he's had this dream before - but then Lex frowns, stirs, and Clark barely has time to leap off the balcony before he's caught.
He needs to talk to someone about this. Oliver is still highly volatile on the topic of Lex; Clark would like to tell Bruce, but they're only just getting to know each other. So J'onn it is; J'onn, who sees all and doesn't judge.
"I think I might be developing a new power," Clark says. "Teleporting. Except I'm doing it in my sleep."
J'onn strokes his chin: "And when you teleport, where do you go?"
This is the delicate part, the part that would upset Oliver. Clark says:
"Always to a LexCorp property."
"Hmm," says J'onn, then nothing more.
"When I wake up, I don't remember how I got there," says Clark. "Could you stay at Watchtower, J'onn, and track me tonight? And not tell anyone?"
However Clark doesn't sleep at all that night or the next, kept busy by activities of the UltraHumanite, fresh out of prison and hungry for revenge. When he does finally get to bed, it's one of the best sleeps of his life, until he wakes up on the balcony of Lex's penthouse.
"You are not teleporting," says J'onn, in his deep voice. "You appear to be speeding, and occasionally, flying, in your sleep."
"Oh," says Clark. It does simplify things. Probably it should be a relief that he isn't developing a new power but it stills leaves an awkward question unanswered, one that J'onn is too discreet to ask. Then again, being J'onn he probably already knows the answer.
That night, Clark wakes up at the foot of Lex's bed; Lex is sitting up, wide awake and looking at him.
"After the last few weeks, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," says Lex, "but I'd still like an explanation."
Clark is still half-asleep, too tired to come up with a plausible lie; instead, he turns and lets himself out the door. Lex does not stop him.
WatchTower has satellite cameras monitoring all the entrances and exits of LexCorp. Oliver, reviewing the footage, sees Clark leaving the building at three in the morning. He wants to know why and is not happy with Clark's answer.
"You do understand," says Oliver. "That delivering yourself to Lex in such a vulnerable state is an invitation to your own torture, your own death?"
Clark shifts uncomfortably.
"Lex wouldn't…I mean, he might exploit the situation but-"
"I know why you're going there," says Oliver. "You’re so obsessed with putting a stop to Lex's crimes, that even as you sleep, you're compelled to monitor him."
Clark sighs. Oliver sees everything in black and white. It's impossible to explain to him the spectrum of gray areas that characterize Clark's relationship with Lex.
"Anyway, we need to do something about this," says Oliver. "I have an idea."
Biologically, Clark can get by without sleeping. He doesn't need it to survive it as a human would. But he was taught to sleep as a child so it has become a habit. He knows it's good for him psychologically to shut off his conscious mind for a couple of hours, at least once or twice a week.
Oliver's idea, that Zatanna should use her magic to put Clark to sleep for seven hours, constitutes a last resort; Clark only agrees to it when Zatanna promises to break her spell in the event of an emergency. The hope is that a full night's sleep might put an end to his nocturnal wanderings.
"Don't be nervous," says Zatanna. "It's a very mild spell."
A mild purple spell; Clark watches, in fascination, as purple dust spirals through the air towards him. The pattern hypnotizes him; his eyelids grow heavy.
He's back in Smallville, running through the corn fields. All his chores are done and Mom has promised raspberry pie for dessert tonight. There is no place for him to be other than right here. The sun and wind are gentle against Clark's face; the crows squawk their outrage and flap their wings in protest at his speed.
It's a good dream; a good memory. Clark wants to stay here. But there's another sound in the distance. A thumping sound. Thunder? A tornado, is a tornado coming?
It's a voice: "I know that you know Superman's secret identity. And you will tell me."
Silence.
"Look, Luthor. You're not dealing with a clown like the Toyman or one of those crazies from Gotham. Amos Fortune doesn't mess around. Want a demonstration?"
The thumping speeds up, becomes urgent. Clark, still standing in his dream-corn, realizes: that's Lex's heart-beat. Lex is in danger.
"You are mistaken," says Lex's voice, tightly controlled. "I know nothing about Superman's alias. I doubt he even has one. The Alien is constantly sighted all over the world. There are too many sightings for him to be leading a double existence.
"Too many sightings?" says Amos Fortune. "I say that you have too many fingers, Lex. Maybe we should do something about that."
A silent shriek of pain from Lex. Clark is desperate to wake up, to fly to his rescue.
But he can't.
"Zatanna! Wake me up!"
His mouth shapes the words but nothing comes out. Clark stands there, trapped in his dream, helpless. Zatanna won't know Lex is in trouble so she won’t know to wake Clark. And even if she did know about Lex…for Oliver and the rest of the League, Lex in trouble wouldn’t necessarily constitute an emergency.
In his dream world, Clark closes his eyes. You can do this; you can wake yourself up. She said it was a mild spell, you can break it.
"You're also mistaken," says Lex. "If you think you can use me as bait to catch Superman."
"Oh, am I?" says Fortune.
"Superman doesn't care about me," says Lex. "He hates me. If you kill me, you’d be doing him a favour."
Clark flinches at the words. Fortune says:
"Nice try, Lex but I wouldn't say you have a leg to stand on. Come to think of it, maybe we should move on to the legs-"
This time Lex does scream.
Clark can't bear it and throws himself into the air. You couldn't call what he's doing flying, exactly. Not normal flying. He is rolling and twisting and bouncing through the air; his limbs feel leaden and he keeps colliding with things. Massive trees, the Smallville water tower, the corners of buildings. His only way of navigating is to follow the pounding of Lex's heart.
Clark can dimly hear panicked voices but he can't see anyone. All he can see is the dream scenery of his Smallville childhood, repeating on a loop. He's flown past the water tower three times now. It's not real; it doesn't matter. The important thing is that the sound of Lex's heartbeat is getting nearer. Clark bumps into something, smashes through something else and at last then he can sense Lex is here, even if he can't see him.
More chaotic sounds; things are hitting Clark. Bullets probably. Clark barrels through them and reaches out blindly until his hands are touching Lex. He pulls Lex to him, cradling him awkwardly to his chest and flies back the way he came.
"Clark," says Lex's voice, seeming very far away.
And then everything suddenly goes to black.
* * * *
Clark wakes up, with anxious faces of Oliver and Zatanna hovering over him.
"Oh, Clark….I'm so sorry," says Zatanna. "You were sleeping peacefully then suddenly hurtled out of bed and straight through the window. The closed window."
Clark sits up:
"Is Lex okay?"
"He had sustained a few injuries from the Fortune gang," says Oliver. "Nothing major. We took him to hospital-"
"Once we could get you to let go of him," says Zatanna. "He’ll be fine."
"There may be some annoying headlines tomorrow," says Oliver. "Luthor saved by Drunk Superman." You were flying pretty erratically-"
"Lois will think of something," says Clark. He rubs his head. He's still tired.
"Do you want me to stay?" says Oliver. "I can make sure you don't sleep-travel anywhere else, at least for tonight-"
"Thanks," says Clark. "But I’ll be fine. I think….I think my problem may be about to resolve itself."
Oliver looks a little disappointed but nods and pats Clark's shoulder as he goes.
"Stay safe, handsome," says Zatanna and gives him her usual goodbye wink.
There is no further rest for Clark that night. It's a bad night on the roads, with blizzards throughout the northeast. Superman performs the rescues and the next day Clark writes up the stories. He falls into bed past midnight and waits for the inevitable. His eyelids sag shut…
"Good evening, Clark."
This time, Clark doesn't wake in a panic. He yawns, stretches and slowly opens his eyes. He knows exactly where he is: the LexCorp penthouse. He's lying on the floor next to the bed; Lex is sitting up in bed, watching him. Clark gives him a quick x-ray scan: two broken fingers, already healing; Bruised ribs; a bandaged knife wound on his left thigh.
Lex says:
"I owe you a "thank you" for your Bull-in-a-China-Shop rescue, last night. Not graceful, yet effective."
"I was sleep-flying," explains Clark. "I had been placed under a spell to anchor me. It didn't work. I heard your voice."
"I don't see the connection," says Lex.
Clark sits up and crosses his legs:
"I'm drawn to you, Lex. You know that. I can resist the pull when I'm awake, rationalize it away…But when I'm asleep, all the old feelings come back, reconstruct themselves in my dreams. I miss our friendship. I miss what we had. I miss what we didn’t get to have."
Lex stares at him. With the covers pooled around his waist, and moonlight shining on his face, he looks almost as young as he did when Clark first met him.
"I used to watch you sleep sometimes in Smallville," says Clark.
"Before you could fly?" says Lex. Clark tilts his head and doesn't answer.
Lex says softly.
"It would have meant a lot, back then, if you'd come inside to me, instead of just watching. Just once."
"I was afraid then," says Clark. "But I'm here now."
Lex says:
"You've gotten very direct all of a sudden. Why now?"
"We have unfinished business, Lex. I've known that for years. My subconscious mind has just been a bit louder about prompting me this week."
Lex sits up:
"Is that what you’re here for? Closure?"
He swings his legs out of bed and stands there, arms folded, looking down at Clark. His chest is bare, silvered by the light from the window. He's wearing silk pajama bottoms. He is beautiful and frustrating, irresistible and dangerous. He is Lex.
Clark stands up. He unfolds Lex's arms and walks into them.
Lex is staring straight into Clark's eyes, looking for clues as usual, but also daring him. Clark stares back and doesn't blink. Lex cups his hand behind Clark's head and pulls him down for a kiss.
Clark went to sleep tonight knowing this would probably happen but he didn't know this would happen, that Lex's mouth on his would render him completely helpless, pin him like a butterfly. He has all his powers, but couldn’t access them if he tried. Lex is in control.
And Lex knows it and seizes the moment. He kisses Clark harder. His hand trails under Clark's pajamas, tickles the top of Clark's ass.
Clark hears moaning: loud, embarrassing moaning and realizes it’s coming from him. He needs more Lex, closer, now, and uses a hand to hoist Lex up so they're face to face. Lex kisses with his eyes open, watching Clark; when Lex blinks, his eyelashes brush across Clark's face.
Clark, remembering that Lex is fresh from hospital, gently lowers him on to the bed. But as soon as he joins Lex, he finds himself rolled on his back with Lex on top of him. Lex kisses Clark's throat, his nipples, and then works his way lower, while Clark wriggles and gasps and doesn't know what to do with his hands.
Lex eases Clark's pajama bottoms down his legs; in one seamless movement, Lex flings off his own pajamas and straddles Clark's thighs. Lex teases Clark for a few minutes by licking and kissing him everywhere except his cock, which is now rock hard. Lex is hard too but when Clark reaches for him, Lex takes his hand and pins it to the bed. He does the same with Clark's other hand and then, finally, takes Clark into his mouth.
It's bliss, too much bliss to last long - the rasp of Lex's tongue, the delicate pressure of his teeth - and Clark rocks his hips upwards and comes, sending a tiny shower of sparks from his eyes.
When Clark recovers, Lex is beside him, propped on one elbow, watching him.
Clark rolls Lex onto his back and licks him, the pressure of his tongue flushing the pale skin rosy pink. Lex tries to maintain control at first, but gradually his harsh breathing gives way to moans. Clark flips Lex onto his stomach and licks the back of his thighs, his shoulder blades, then parts the cheeks of his ass and licks there, making Lex grind into the mattress.
When he flips Lex onto his back, Lex is flushed pink head to toe, his cock hard against his belly. Clark lowers his mouth and Lex moans and thrusts into him, just four hard, deep thrusts before he comes.
Clark drapes an arm across Lex's chest, rests his head on Lex's shaking shoulder. Waits.
After a few minutes, Lex says:
"I never thought this could happen. I thought that we had our roles, you and I, and that we were trapped in them, never able to move beyond our established patterns."
Clark murmurs:
"People can change, Lex."
"It's a generous sentiment, but they rarely do."
Clark lifts his head:
"You’re going to, if you ever want this to happen again. I can't be foiling evil plans by day, then sleeping with you at night. It’s one or the other."
Lex is rubbing a strand of Clark's hair between his fingers. He says:
"And your end of the compromise will be…?"
"This," says Clark. "Honesty. Me admitting how I feel about you, how I've felt about you for years."
Tiny satisfied smirk around Lex's mouth. He says:
"So…this wasn't about closure, then?"
His face. Clark hasn't seen that expression on Lex's face in years. It takes him a moment to identify it: hope.
"No," says Clark. "It was about making a new beginning."
And he kisses Lex and falls asleep on his shoulder.
END
From: To Be Revealed! Tasabian
For: LadyONeill
Type: Fic, 2618
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Summary: Nocturnal wanderings cause Clark to take a drastic step.
Request: Reunion after being miserable without each other
Note: (I hope you like this! I'm not very skilled with angst & my apologies for any errant schmoop.)
Fly by Night
The first time it happens, Clark has been awake for a week straight, fending off an alien invasion. He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow; when he wakes, his head is resting on gravel. It takes a long moment to sink in that he's sprawled in the driveway that leads to the Luthor mansion.
The lights are all off; Lex isn't there. Clark shakes the dirt from his hair and flies home to Metropolis.
The next time it happens, Clark awakens with his cheek pressed to something cool and the sound of conversation in the distance. There's blue light behind his eyelids. This is a laboratory and those are footsteps coming towards him: those are Lex's footsteps and that's Lex's voice, talking with a group of people in lab coats. Clark blurs away before they reach him.
The third time, Clark wakes to find himself standing over a sleeping Lex. For an instant, he thinks he's dreaming - he's had this dream before - but then Lex frowns, stirs, and Clark barely has time to leap off the balcony before he's caught.
He needs to talk to someone about this. Oliver is still highly volatile on the topic of Lex; Clark would like to tell Bruce, but they're only just getting to know each other. So J'onn it is; J'onn, who sees all and doesn't judge.
"I think I might be developing a new power," Clark says. "Teleporting. Except I'm doing it in my sleep."
J'onn strokes his chin: "And when you teleport, where do you go?"
This is the delicate part, the part that would upset Oliver. Clark says:
"Always to a LexCorp property."
"Hmm," says J'onn, then nothing more.
"When I wake up, I don't remember how I got there," says Clark. "Could you stay at Watchtower, J'onn, and track me tonight? And not tell anyone?"
However Clark doesn't sleep at all that night or the next, kept busy by activities of the UltraHumanite, fresh out of prison and hungry for revenge. When he does finally get to bed, it's one of the best sleeps of his life, until he wakes up on the balcony of Lex's penthouse.
"You are not teleporting," says J'onn, in his deep voice. "You appear to be speeding, and occasionally, flying, in your sleep."
"Oh," says Clark. It does simplify things. Probably it should be a relief that he isn't developing a new power but it stills leaves an awkward question unanswered, one that J'onn is too discreet to ask. Then again, being J'onn he probably already knows the answer.
That night, Clark wakes up at the foot of Lex's bed; Lex is sitting up, wide awake and looking at him.
"After the last few weeks, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," says Lex, "but I'd still like an explanation."
Clark is still half-asleep, too tired to come up with a plausible lie; instead, he turns and lets himself out the door. Lex does not stop him.
WatchTower has satellite cameras monitoring all the entrances and exits of LexCorp. Oliver, reviewing the footage, sees Clark leaving the building at three in the morning. He wants to know why and is not happy with Clark's answer.
"You do understand," says Oliver. "That delivering yourself to Lex in such a vulnerable state is an invitation to your own torture, your own death?"
Clark shifts uncomfortably.
"Lex wouldn't…I mean, he might exploit the situation but-"
"I know why you're going there," says Oliver. "You’re so obsessed with putting a stop to Lex's crimes, that even as you sleep, you're compelled to monitor him."
Clark sighs. Oliver sees everything in black and white. It's impossible to explain to him the spectrum of gray areas that characterize Clark's relationship with Lex.
"Anyway, we need to do something about this," says Oliver. "I have an idea."
Biologically, Clark can get by without sleeping. He doesn't need it to survive it as a human would. But he was taught to sleep as a child so it has become a habit. He knows it's good for him psychologically to shut off his conscious mind for a couple of hours, at least once or twice a week.
Oliver's idea, that Zatanna should use her magic to put Clark to sleep for seven hours, constitutes a last resort; Clark only agrees to it when Zatanna promises to break her spell in the event of an emergency. The hope is that a full night's sleep might put an end to his nocturnal wanderings.
"Don't be nervous," says Zatanna. "It's a very mild spell."
A mild purple spell; Clark watches, in fascination, as purple dust spirals through the air towards him. The pattern hypnotizes him; his eyelids grow heavy.
He's back in Smallville, running through the corn fields. All his chores are done and Mom has promised raspberry pie for dessert tonight. There is no place for him to be other than right here. The sun and wind are gentle against Clark's face; the crows squawk their outrage and flap their wings in protest at his speed.
It's a good dream; a good memory. Clark wants to stay here. But there's another sound in the distance. A thumping sound. Thunder? A tornado, is a tornado coming?
It's a voice: "I know that you know Superman's secret identity. And you will tell me."
Silence.
"Look, Luthor. You're not dealing with a clown like the Toyman or one of those crazies from Gotham. Amos Fortune doesn't mess around. Want a demonstration?"
The thumping speeds up, becomes urgent. Clark, still standing in his dream-corn, realizes: that's Lex's heart-beat. Lex is in danger.
"You are mistaken," says Lex's voice, tightly controlled. "I know nothing about Superman's alias. I doubt he even has one. The Alien is constantly sighted all over the world. There are too many sightings for him to be leading a double existence.
"Too many sightings?" says Amos Fortune. "I say that you have too many fingers, Lex. Maybe we should do something about that."
A silent shriek of pain from Lex. Clark is desperate to wake up, to fly to his rescue.
But he can't.
"Zatanna! Wake me up!"
His mouth shapes the words but nothing comes out. Clark stands there, trapped in his dream, helpless. Zatanna won't know Lex is in trouble so she won’t know to wake Clark. And even if she did know about Lex…for Oliver and the rest of the League, Lex in trouble wouldn’t necessarily constitute an emergency.
In his dream world, Clark closes his eyes. You can do this; you can wake yourself up. She said it was a mild spell, you can break it.
"You're also mistaken," says Lex. "If you think you can use me as bait to catch Superman."
"Oh, am I?" says Fortune.
"Superman doesn't care about me," says Lex. "He hates me. If you kill me, you’d be doing him a favour."
Clark flinches at the words. Fortune says:
"Nice try, Lex but I wouldn't say you have a leg to stand on. Come to think of it, maybe we should move on to the legs-"
This time Lex does scream.
Clark can't bear it and throws himself into the air. You couldn't call what he's doing flying, exactly. Not normal flying. He is rolling and twisting and bouncing through the air; his limbs feel leaden and he keeps colliding with things. Massive trees, the Smallville water tower, the corners of buildings. His only way of navigating is to follow the pounding of Lex's heart.
Clark can dimly hear panicked voices but he can't see anyone. All he can see is the dream scenery of his Smallville childhood, repeating on a loop. He's flown past the water tower three times now. It's not real; it doesn't matter. The important thing is that the sound of Lex's heartbeat is getting nearer. Clark bumps into something, smashes through something else and at last then he can sense Lex is here, even if he can't see him.
More chaotic sounds; things are hitting Clark. Bullets probably. Clark barrels through them and reaches out blindly until his hands are touching Lex. He pulls Lex to him, cradling him awkwardly to his chest and flies back the way he came.
"Clark," says Lex's voice, seeming very far away.
And then everything suddenly goes to black.
* * * *
Clark wakes up, with anxious faces of Oliver and Zatanna hovering over him.
"Oh, Clark….I'm so sorry," says Zatanna. "You were sleeping peacefully then suddenly hurtled out of bed and straight through the window. The closed window."
Clark sits up:
"Is Lex okay?"
"He had sustained a few injuries from the Fortune gang," says Oliver. "Nothing major. We took him to hospital-"
"Once we could get you to let go of him," says Zatanna. "He’ll be fine."
"There may be some annoying headlines tomorrow," says Oliver. "Luthor saved by Drunk Superman." You were flying pretty erratically-"
"Lois will think of something," says Clark. He rubs his head. He's still tired.
"Do you want me to stay?" says Oliver. "I can make sure you don't sleep-travel anywhere else, at least for tonight-"
"Thanks," says Clark. "But I’ll be fine. I think….I think my problem may be about to resolve itself."
Oliver looks a little disappointed but nods and pats Clark's shoulder as he goes.
"Stay safe, handsome," says Zatanna and gives him her usual goodbye wink.
There is no further rest for Clark that night. It's a bad night on the roads, with blizzards throughout the northeast. Superman performs the rescues and the next day Clark writes up the stories. He falls into bed past midnight and waits for the inevitable. His eyelids sag shut…
"Good evening, Clark."
This time, Clark doesn't wake in a panic. He yawns, stretches and slowly opens his eyes. He knows exactly where he is: the LexCorp penthouse. He's lying on the floor next to the bed; Lex is sitting up in bed, watching him. Clark gives him a quick x-ray scan: two broken fingers, already healing; Bruised ribs; a bandaged knife wound on his left thigh.
Lex says:
"I owe you a "thank you" for your Bull-in-a-China-Shop rescue, last night. Not graceful, yet effective."
"I was sleep-flying," explains Clark. "I had been placed under a spell to anchor me. It didn't work. I heard your voice."
"I don't see the connection," says Lex.
Clark sits up and crosses his legs:
"I'm drawn to you, Lex. You know that. I can resist the pull when I'm awake, rationalize it away…But when I'm asleep, all the old feelings come back, reconstruct themselves in my dreams. I miss our friendship. I miss what we had. I miss what we didn’t get to have."
Lex stares at him. With the covers pooled around his waist, and moonlight shining on his face, he looks almost as young as he did when Clark first met him.
"I used to watch you sleep sometimes in Smallville," says Clark.
"Before you could fly?" says Lex. Clark tilts his head and doesn't answer.
Lex says softly.
"It would have meant a lot, back then, if you'd come inside to me, instead of just watching. Just once."
"I was afraid then," says Clark. "But I'm here now."
Lex says:
"You've gotten very direct all of a sudden. Why now?"
"We have unfinished business, Lex. I've known that for years. My subconscious mind has just been a bit louder about prompting me this week."
Lex sits up:
"Is that what you’re here for? Closure?"
He swings his legs out of bed and stands there, arms folded, looking down at Clark. His chest is bare, silvered by the light from the window. He's wearing silk pajama bottoms. He is beautiful and frustrating, irresistible and dangerous. He is Lex.
Clark stands up. He unfolds Lex's arms and walks into them.
Lex is staring straight into Clark's eyes, looking for clues as usual, but also daring him. Clark stares back and doesn't blink. Lex cups his hand behind Clark's head and pulls him down for a kiss.
Clark went to sleep tonight knowing this would probably happen but he didn't know this would happen, that Lex's mouth on his would render him completely helpless, pin him like a butterfly. He has all his powers, but couldn’t access them if he tried. Lex is in control.
And Lex knows it and seizes the moment. He kisses Clark harder. His hand trails under Clark's pajamas, tickles the top of Clark's ass.
Clark hears moaning: loud, embarrassing moaning and realizes it’s coming from him. He needs more Lex, closer, now, and uses a hand to hoist Lex up so they're face to face. Lex kisses with his eyes open, watching Clark; when Lex blinks, his eyelashes brush across Clark's face.
Clark, remembering that Lex is fresh from hospital, gently lowers him on to the bed. But as soon as he joins Lex, he finds himself rolled on his back with Lex on top of him. Lex kisses Clark's throat, his nipples, and then works his way lower, while Clark wriggles and gasps and doesn't know what to do with his hands.
Lex eases Clark's pajama bottoms down his legs; in one seamless movement, Lex flings off his own pajamas and straddles Clark's thighs. Lex teases Clark for a few minutes by licking and kissing him everywhere except his cock, which is now rock hard. Lex is hard too but when Clark reaches for him, Lex takes his hand and pins it to the bed. He does the same with Clark's other hand and then, finally, takes Clark into his mouth.
It's bliss, too much bliss to last long - the rasp of Lex's tongue, the delicate pressure of his teeth - and Clark rocks his hips upwards and comes, sending a tiny shower of sparks from his eyes.
When Clark recovers, Lex is beside him, propped on one elbow, watching him.
Clark rolls Lex onto his back and licks him, the pressure of his tongue flushing the pale skin rosy pink. Lex tries to maintain control at first, but gradually his harsh breathing gives way to moans. Clark flips Lex onto his stomach and licks the back of his thighs, his shoulder blades, then parts the cheeks of his ass and licks there, making Lex grind into the mattress.
When he flips Lex onto his back, Lex is flushed pink head to toe, his cock hard against his belly. Clark lowers his mouth and Lex moans and thrusts into him, just four hard, deep thrusts before he comes.
Clark drapes an arm across Lex's chest, rests his head on Lex's shaking shoulder. Waits.
After a few minutes, Lex says:
"I never thought this could happen. I thought that we had our roles, you and I, and that we were trapped in them, never able to move beyond our established patterns."
Clark murmurs:
"People can change, Lex."
"It's a generous sentiment, but they rarely do."
Clark lifts his head:
"You’re going to, if you ever want this to happen again. I can't be foiling evil plans by day, then sleeping with you at night. It’s one or the other."
Lex is rubbing a strand of Clark's hair between his fingers. He says:
"And your end of the compromise will be…?"
"This," says Clark. "Honesty. Me admitting how I feel about you, how I've felt about you for years."
Tiny satisfied smirk around Lex's mouth. He says:
"So…this wasn't about closure, then?"
His face. Clark hasn't seen that expression on Lex's face in years. It takes him a moment to identify it: hope.
"No," says Clark. "It was about making a new beginning."
And he kisses Lex and falls asleep on his shoulder.
END