Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/237902.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Smallville
  Relationship:
      Clark_Kent/Lex_Luthor
  Stats:
      Published: 2011-08-11 Words: 4045
****** Rebirth of Slick ******
by Jane_St_Clair_(3jane)
Summary
     It's hot out. Clark gets bored.
Clark's less sensitive to the heat than a lot of people. Pete, for
whatever reason, pretty much collapses once the mercury hits ninety,
and Chloe's camping next to her air conditioner at home and won't
move. On the other hand, Clark's apparently hit by it a lot harder
than, say, his parents, who both insist on working like it's still a
comfortable seventy-something degrees, and insist he does too. Who
ignore him when he complains, tell him to grin and bear it, that it
won't kill him. And it's not even that he doesn't *like* the sun.
It's just the heat's so oppressive, and even if it doesn't make him
feel as terrible as lots of people, he can still *feel* it, all
over.
It's a new adventure in whining, and sometime in the middle of the
second day of soaking, static oven-hotness, his parents give in and
accept that Clark's going to sleep in the basement whenever he
doesn't have chores, and he'll be moving around at night when it's
actually cool enough to do things.
Summer, he read somewhere, is all about being nocturnal. He's sure
he read that. No school tomorrow, his morning and evening chores
still get done, and this way he has something like an excuse for
being the only person in a hundred miles without a sunburn.
There are good things. There's a huge moon this week, bright enough
that he thinks he'd be able to see even without the eagle-eyes. Dark
enough that if he wants to run, full out, just for the feel of it,
he won't be spotted. If he wants to jump for a tree branch twenty or
thirty feet up, and overshoots, there's just him to notice.
It's still hot, but it's dark, and the freedom's almost enough.
Though eventually it's ... not lonely, quite, because there are
other people around, and he's fairly sure Pete's doing the daysleep
thing too, but getting on for boring. Nothing's open, most people
are asleep or trying to be. He knows Lana's not, but she's trying hard.
She wakes up, walks around the house, stretches at her window without
ever looking at the ground, and goes back to bed. Sometimes she gets
up and peels her shirt off, leans into the window's draft,
and she has the kind of real, soft, tiny girl-breasts that'll give
him masturbation material for the next ten years of his life, and
probably for a while after that, when it starts being disturbing
instead of just needy.
It's miles too far into stalker-behaviour to hang out under her
window all night, though, so eventually he walks. Roads for a bit,
fields after that. Overland through crops towards a somewhere that
turns out to be Lex's. Over the gates, over the lawns. Clark stops
for a minute on the frozen garden-pond and actually knees and
presses his face to the ice. This wonderful cold that lets him
forget the person who's trapped at its centre.
He takes his shoes off, after, and walks through the grass barefoot.
It's cooling off a bit, enough that it's easing out of 'agonizing'
and into 'comfortable'. The Luthor Manor's windows are all open,
which kicks Clark into the realization that the house isn't air
conditioned. He wonders about that. He knows the place is chilly in
the winter, but not icy, so there's definitely some sort of semi-
modern heating system involved, and the building's been wired for
electricity, so it can't be a need for historical integrity keeping
Lex living in a big, stone oven.
There are French doors open, farther along. Billowy white curtains
blowing in whenever the air moves.
Alright, then, it's all about the romance. Heir to old money empire
in the steamy, dark family estate in the heat of summer. He wonders
if the gardeners have started planting magnolias yet. If he had
Chloe's camera he'd have blackmail material forever.
Coming in through the open doors is going on the list of entirely
too pretentious things Clark's done in his life. Some sort of Tom
Cruise imitation going on, echoes of various Night of the Vampire
movies and all of Chloe's secret stash of Anne Rice novels. He was
expecting some kind of studio, or a back entrance that'd let the air
move through the house, but it's neither. First floor, without the
carnival velvet that coats everything upstairs upstairs. Not enough
furniture, either. Most of what's there has sheets over it.  Only
the bed's uncovered.
Lex is on the bed, face down, sprawled. Sweat in the hollows of his
back. Wearing a ... skirt. Bare legs, bare top, skirt around his
hips, some kind of loose cotton thing. Comfortable-looking, but also
eerily drag-show-ish.
Clark didn't think he was making noise, but Lex twists, suddenly,
and sits up on one hip. Snaps, "Who's there?"
Clark puts his hands up. "Just me. Sorry."
Lex's pupils are huge in the dark, and it takes Clark a second to
realize that the question wasn't addressed to him, not really. He
can still remember occasional sleepovers when he was a kid enough to
know that people are capable of saying all sorts of weird things
with their eyes wide open and entirely still asleep.
If Lex was jumpy before, though, he's just about convulsive now.  
"What?" Quick scramble while he turns around to look properly.
"Clark. Jesus." One more big-eyed second before Lex collapses back
onto the mostly-stripped bed. "What are you doing here?"
"I was walking and you, um, left the doors open. I didn't realize
you were sleeping in here." He grins. "Gotta wonder about your
vampire fantasies, though. I think you're a couple of hundred miles
north of where you want to be for that."
Lex snorts, still staring at the ceiling.. "This place has no air
conditioning. I haven't been this hot since I came back from
Sumatra. Good coffee, bad climate. What can I do for you?"
Clark finds a chair. There's a row of them, back against the
opposite wall, all covered in sheets. Hauls it over close to the bed
and sits down. "I was bored."
"Clark." Little lift in the middle of his name that makes it
somewhere between a tease and a question.
"I was *bored*. It's dark and it's hot and. Lex, you're wearing a
skirt. *Why?*"
Lex sits up. Stands up. Stretches, then snaps down to grab at his
skirt before it falls off completely. Not exactly a skirt, more like
a very thin towel with no terry cloth and some interesting patterns
going on. "It's a sarong. It's perfectly normal in a lot of places."
"None of which are Smallville."
"Since this one came back with me from Sumatra... no. Not in
Smallville. But I wasn't planning on the local populace dropping in
to watch me sleep."
"Sorry." Though he's really not. Lex is awake, which means that
boredom can wander off for a while. He wonders what Lex might think
is worth doing all night.
"I'm not. God I wish I wasn't here." Lex stretches again, arms over
his head. "No, actually I just wish I wasn't this hot. Maybe if I
was naked."
"Yeah, but you still have company."
"If you went away, I wouldn't have that problem."
Which is. A point, actually. "You want me to go away?"
"No. I'm not sleeping, apparently, and I'm not going to. I'd take
off for a week, but the plant's keeping me too busy." He sighs. "If
I can't sleep, I'm going to swim. Coming?"
Lex walks off, into the house. Even in the dark, he's disturbingly
close to being naked. The cloth around his hips is just barely
there, though it's maybe not so much the bare skin as the sweat and
the sleep-smell and the way Clark really did wake Lex up. Deeper in
the house, it's past hot and into miserable; it'll take days to cool
the place off after the heat breaks. Clark can breeze through it,
more or less, but Lex hunches just that extra bit that says he'd be
happier if he were just about anywhere else.
More doors open, more halls. Carpets and then stone floors. Humid,
dark room that they come to finally, cooler. Water reflections on
the ceiling. There's some kind of climate control system in here, at
least.
While Clark's wondering why there isn't one anywhere else, Lex drops
the sarong and dives.
Night swimming. It sounds really, really good. None of the
mosquitoes outside, who tickle him all over even if they can't
manage to bite. Better with company than doing it alone. He thinks
he's been invited, and if not, he seems to be making his own
invitations tonight. Strips off his t-shirt and shorts and drops
straight in off the side.
Water. It's bluish, it's cooler. Clark sees colours in the dark the
way nobody else does, and he can almost understand the why of it.
Something about rods and cones that they got to learn about in
science class, stuff he learned for the test and then forgot.
Clark turns somersaults in the water, brushes his hands along the
bottom. He comes up for air, eventually, just for a second, and
dives again. There are ripples somewhere up above him, Lex swimming.
Clark rolls onto his back, gets the weird, weird view of a human
body in mid-stroke, and just for a second eye-contact with Lex
through the water, before it occurs to him that anybody else would
have come up by now.
So. Up. He makes a show of gasping when he surfaces, and treads
water for a minute until he thinks he should be steady. Then for a
while just so he can watch the water ripples reflecting on the
ceiling. Lex keeps sliding through the water around him, never quite
in reach. Until he slides in dolphin-fast and drags a hand across
Clark's ribs before disappearing.
"Gah! Lex!" He thrashes, twists around, and can't see anything.
Which one of them is supposed to be the eerie one? Looks again and
spots Lex, out of the pool and lying on his stomach, watching Clark
and grinning.
Clark dives to the bottom and kicks his way to the side, rises
straight up under Lex's nose. "If you're going to grope me when I'm
not looking..."
Lex kisses him. Warm and wet and still sleep-tasting, locked onto
Clark and hanging over the pool's edge to do it.
Clark eventually notices that he's gripping the pool's edge to keep
from sinking. Most of him's shouting about mouth contact and SEX and
warm water and the fairly long list of things his body wants to
happen next. Nothing useful. Though eventually Lex breaks the kiss
and arches back, working tension out of his neck.  It gives Clark
time to scramble out of the water. It leaves him perched on the
edge, probably wilder-eyed than he'd like, but not in danger of
drowning Lex, either.
"Remind me which one of us is supposed to be the predator?"
Lex grins at him. "I don't remember you claiming you were."
"You're the one playing vampire victim."
"I was *asleep*. In a perfectly normal way in a house that's too
hot. In my *own* house. Then you woke me up. Told me to play with
you."
"I didn't say that."
"You said you were bored."
"I'm not anymore."
"Good." Lex slides over beside him and sits up, cross-legged.
Breathes on Clark's skin for a few seconds before kissing the side
of his neck.
"Lex..."
"You can feel free to leave."
The rest of the world, in the dark, all alone, is very, very boring.
"I'm cold."
Lex stares at him. "It's not cold in here."
"Compared with the rest of the house..."
"Fine." Lex stands. He isn't hard, but he's interested. Cock-to-eye
with Clark, currently. He offers down a hand. "Come on."
He kisses Clark again in the hall, against the wood panelling. Again
with Clark's head pressed to one of the paintings in a way that'll
probably ruin it. Water's still dripping out of his hair. Lex's
tongue in his mouth is this wonderful, sexy, fascinting thing that
makes him grateful that he's currently in the middle of his 'day'
instead of out past curfew.
And the bedroom that isn't Lex's, he doesn't think, is still there,
still hot, still full of sheets and melodramatic curtains and open
doors. There were blankets, he notices, but they've all been very
deliberately thrown on the floor. Just sheets and pillows, and even
the pillows are off to one side.
He thinks about the air flow, about the sweat already building again
on his body and Lex's.
"Think we can move the bed?"
Lex *looks* at him. "I wasn't really planning on rearranging
furniture, Clark."
"Yeah, but I think we could catch more of the draft if we could move
this a couple of feet. That's all, I swear. Look." He hooks his
fingers over the foot of the bed and tugs experimentally. He thinks
he can move it without being obvious, and he might as well. The bed
scrapes across the floor, but when he's done, the moving air is
hitting it. Clark turns his face into the draft and closes his eyes.
Behind him, Lex wraps an arm around his waist and leans in. Mouths
at one shoulder blade.  Gropes him.
"Jesus."
Lex's mouth twists against his skin. "Thank you."
There's enough of a push against his back that Clark gets he's
supposed to bend over. Possibly a disturbing thought since he's not
quite sure he's ready to be bent over pieces of furniture, but when
he shifts his weight, he finds himself in more of a sprawl, with Lex
somwhere between on top of and beside him. More wrestling to get
them both flat, and then. Yes, more kissing. Slow, careful, not
quite as demanding as before. Lex is probably really tired, just too
restless to actually settle down and sleep. He's hard now. Slick,
very soft skin keeps rubbing against Clark's hip, smelling like
chlorine in a way that's going to change showering after gym forever
and ever.
"I swear." Kiss. "To god. "Kiss. "This isn't why I." Kiss. "Came
over."
"I know. I started it. Do you want me to stop?"
"I want you to tie me down."
Lex pushes up on his forearms and stares down at Clark. "I wouldn't
have thought that was your thing."
"I wasn't serious. I just mean, you know, don't stop."
"Right." Kissing. He can feel Lex shiver every time a draft hits
him, but he's soaking wet. Spicy-smelling in the heat, salty around
the edges of his mouth. He tastes really good.
The knee between Clark's legs gives him something to rub against.
Not quite enough, but. "*Lex*..."
Fingers. Better. Wrapped around his cock, this human *hand*,
belonging to another person, the slick, very friendly body pressed
against him, kissing him all over. Very good sex things going on,
all goth imagery aside, and Lex in a spiked collar (where did *that*
vision come from?) is one of those wonderful images that he suspects
he'll find out more about later.
He could touch back. He's discovered that Lex likes having his ass
rubbed, even just in an open-hands-on-skin way. He makes tiny noises
when Clark does it, jerks against him.
"Feels really good."
"Love what you're doing, can you just..."
"No. I want you to fuck me."
That stops him. Lex is straddling him, naked, slick, grinning,
suggesting that Clark. Wow. He's now officially at least ten steps
up from the farmboy geekdom of his public identity, since he's
considering carnal knowledge of billionaire's sons and not the cows
who got involved in that very weird rumour last year.
Bad image. Clark shakes his head.
Lex kisses him. "Please."
"What? Oh, no. I mean, yes. Yes, that's a good idea."
Lex taps Clark's forehead. "There's something going on in here that
I'm going to want to know about later."
"I'll give you anything not to ask."
"There isn't anything you can give me. Kiss me."
Lex hands him an embarrassing drug store sex product. Plastic tube,
like hair gel but not so neon, cold on his fingers though it doesn't
last long enough to get that chill as far as Lex's body. Naked body.
Lying down beside him, grinning at him, pulling up a knee and
offering and. This is where sex ed would have been useful.
Lex separates two fingers from the rest of Clark's half-balled fist.
"You take these, you put them in me, with the lube on them. You
enjoy the part where I yowl like a cat, you add more of this stuff,
you do it again until it stops seeming like a good idea. Then you
put most of the rest of it on you and figure out the rest. I'll
help."
This is what rich people get to do. Lie on their backs against
unreasonable numbers of pillows, ruining good sheets and rearranging
the universes of Kansas-raised aliens, previously baseline
heterosexual, with inexplicable reputations for bestiality. Lex
tastes wonderful, salty and warm, and he stretches in whatever
direction Clark asks for. Mouth against interesting skin while he
works on sliding his fingers into a very tight, very hot part of
Lex's body. And for a while Lex just talks to him. Tells him he's
doing fine, strokes his head, bends to kiss him occasionally. He
stiffens eventually in mid-kiss, though, and breathes, "Fuck yes,
right there," and after that things are a lot less controlled.
While Clark's rearranging them and slicking himself he manages to
find out that the stuff's mostly tasteless and just the tiniest bit
sweet, like gelatin. That Lex's hips feel good against his stomach,
and that they're apparently going to do this face to face, though he
wouldn't have thought that would quite work. It does, though, once
Lex gets his knees hooked around Clark's hips, and gives him a
certain amount of help lining up.
Clark pushes. Cups Lex's skull in both hands and kisses him.
"Fffuck," against his mouth. He can feel Lex stretching around him,
tight in spite of the slick mess he made. Hard and shaky for a
minute. And then Lex just relaxes, grins at him and pulls him down.
Whispers, "Fuck me," into Clark's ear, and shifts his hips in a way
that make it a very good idea.
Clark gives a couple of experimental thrusts, then figures it out in
a way that makes the entire universe blindingly obvious. Grinds
himself in, bends to kiss Lex one more time, and starts. Pushing
inside so *carefully*, sweaty and aching, loving this. Loving the
hisses Lex makes whenever Clark pushes with a fraction of the force
he actually wants to use. He could do this. Just let go and *take*
Lex, bend him up double and fuck him til he screams, do it as hard
as his body wants. But. His friend. Friendly, strange, interesting,
beautiful *guy* who wakes up and play with him (in sticky, messy,
probably illegal ways) when Clark asks.
And not that it's actually quite true, but he needs to say it. Hikes
Lex's leg up around his hip, bends in close and says, "Love you."
Lex stills and clamps his hands around Clark's face. Pushes him back
and looks at him for a minute. Then grins, like he more or less
understood that, and says, "Thanks." He twists, then, like he's trying to sit
up. "Give me a hand?"
"That depends. What are you trying to do, Lex?"
"I want to ride you."
It's a good idea. A wonderful, mind-blowing idea, all about sex and
playing and the sheer *heat* tonight, and the fairly long list of
ways in which Lex is gorgeous. Clark isn't sure how they're going to
manage it, but they do eventually roll over, and once Lex is up,
he's on it. Bucking and twisting and arching back, riding Clark like
a parody of a cowboy, grinning hugely down at him.
And it's easier. He doesn't have to worry about the need to keep
pushing harder and harder as long as he's not the one in control. It
feels so good. Tight body still clamped around his, knees around his
hips. Lex slides a hand down behind himself and catches Clark's
balls in his hand and rolls them.
"Oh wow."
"You don't know the half of it. Oh god, Clark, can you twist like
that again?"
He can. He can do anything Lex wants him to. He will concentrate
very, very hard, and do all the things that Lex likes before he can
even ask for them. Best lover in the *world*, he's sure, even if he
does come first. He gets to feel Lex ride him through it, and then
ride him after. Frantic at the end, almost too much for Clark to
take while his cock is this sensitive. Lex groans and twists, shoots
and collapses onto Clark's chest. Wraps his arms around Clark's neck
and nuzzles bonelessly.
It goes on for a while. Even after Lex stills, it takes Clark a
minute or two to realize Lex is asleep. Gone. It's fair, he
supposes, but not quite what he wanted. Good, though. He slides out,
shifts Lex off to one side, keeps an arm around him while he sleeps.
Touches him sometimes, watching the way Lex's body reacts without a
conscious Lex in control. Little arches and whimpers when Clark
finds sensitive spots. This tiny hiss of pain when Clark fingers
Lex's hole.
Eventually Clark dozes too. It's cooler, but he can feel the
temperature rising again, and he'll have to be moving at dawn if he
wants to get his chores done before it's miserably hot.
He has to crawl out from under Lex before morning. His clothes are
on the floor by the pool, and he gets lost for a while looking for
them. Ends up swimming again to get the worst of the mess off. His
shoes are at Lex's door. Runners on his bare feet, home like the
wind.
He's still thinking about it when his chores are done. He doesn't
think his parents are even awake yet. The house is the kind of quiet
it is before they wake up. He finds food in the fridge, eats
standing up. Showers and changes into other clothes and throws
yesterday's on the pile. None of them smell like anything in
particular, and after a swim and a shower, he doesn't smell like
Lex.
He should go to bed. He's been awake fourteen hours, and he's aching
in ways that don't quite hurt, but almost do. In his head, at least.
When he goes to pull the blinds shut, he sees the car. Lex is parked
just inside the yard, leaning against the door and staring at the
house unfocussedly. Clark isn't sure that Lex can see him.
He goes downstairs anyway. Walks out into the yard barefoot and
stands there with his hands in his pockets. Lex raises an eyebrow.
"You left early."
"I had chores."
"Did you sleep?"
"I was going to sleep now."
"Come over."
"What?"
"Come over."
"You missed the part about sleeping all day?"
"I didn't miss it. Come over. It's daytime. I think you'll find
people think it's fairly normal for you to visit in daylight hours."
"*Sleep*, Lex."
"Come over."
"Okay."
He doesn't have any shoes. No note, but the mess he left in the
kitchen's enough to prove he was home. He gets in the car.
Dozes on the drive back. He's almost asleep by the time Lex stops,
and he doesn't want to get up. It's not reasonable for him to lean
on Lex while he's walking, but he does it anyway, the way he made
his father carry him occasionally until he was twelve.
"Tired."
"Mmm. I'll be reading when you wake up."
He surfaces occasionally. At some point his shirt disappears, but
it's hot enough he can't worry about it. He stirs without really
coming back to consciousness and Lex slips grapes into his mouth.
Because he's still there, sitting up on clean sheets, reading
papers. All afternoon, just occasionally touching him, waiting for
Clark to wake up.
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