High Beams

by a campbell

Smallville, Clark Kent/Lex Luthor

____________________

The business dinner had run far too late, regardless of how advantageous it had been for Lexcorp. And, Lex was beyond tired, though he hadn't drunk as much as he'd pretended to. Careening through the darkness of the deserted countryside, he was relieved to coast past the sign proclaiming, "Smallville, 5."

Then, all at once, sickening twist of his stomach, thud in his chest. Something, someone was in the road, and a jarring, white-cold flashback to the afternoon of the bridge accident. Clark's dumbfounded face visited by dawning horror before impact and destruction.

Lex was certain this must be one of the infrequent yet recurring nightmares he'd suffered since the accident, because the dark shape in the road struggled to sit up, throwing an arm up to shield itself from the collision that seemed imminent. Brakes squealed, but, somehow, Lex was able to stop in time. In an instant, he was out of the car, standing on the worn pavement in the cold, damp air, and staring down.

At Clark, illuminated by the glare of the halogen headlights. Who met his eyes only briefly before looking away, stunned.

"Clark?" Lex gazed down at him, his voice tense, husky as he spoke. What was Clark doing way out here, in the middle of the road, in the dark?

Clark seemed to hear, but didn't answer.

Lex bent down and grabbed him by the elbow. "Clark!"

Clark shook his head, but still said nothing.

Lex felt his initial fear fade to the slow burn of irritation, edged with anger, due to the alarm of the near-accident...and perhaps something more. Anger, on which he usually kept a cool control, though lately (witness the classes) it had been getting increasingly harder. After all, hadn't Clark been holding out on him, lying to him, avoiding him emotionally, for a long time, now?

And, why the hell did it matter so much?

"Come on!" Lex pulled Clark to his feet and drew him with haste to the edge of the pavement. The boy stood dazed for a moment before the moist air began to revive him.

Lex held him by both arms, staring at him in consternation. "What the hell are you doing out here, Clark? Trying to get yourself killed? Again? I almost hit you for the second time." Lex took a deep, shaky breath, making an effort to calm himself.

If Clark died...his life would be useless.

Lex pushed the unbidden thought away. Clark was staring off beyond him as though the words spoken were in a language foreign to him.

"Clark," said Lex, more quietly. "What's going on? Bare feet, sweats: you look like you just got out of bed. Not a prank like that scarecrow thing, is it?"

"No," said Clark, slowly."I think I did."

"Did what?" Lex snapped, his voice weary. Sometimes, he could swear that Clark's whole purpose in life was to give him trouble.

"Just get out of bed."

Unbelievable. Lex, exasperated, exhaled a long breath, steam visible in the cold air. "Then why are you lying out here in the middle of the road?"

"I don't know," said Clark. "Sleepwalking?"

"Well, you "sleepwalked" a hell of a long way. Damn."

Lex looked off into the distance, alert for the glare of approaching headlights. The stretch of road was stark and deserted, but they still needed to get further off to the side. He drew Clark off the surface to the graveled shoulder, heedless of his bare feet. His anger began to dim, turning to concern as he noted Clark's ashen face, and that the young man was wrapping his arms around himself, shivering and confused. "I think you're in shock," he said, taking hold of Clark's arm more gently this time. "Let's get you to the hospital."

"No," said Clark abruptly, as though forcing himself into awareness. "I'm okay, Lex. Please, don't. Just drop me off at home, if you can."

Lex ran a still-shaking hand over his clammy scalp. "Okay," he said easily. "I can do that."

Clark's voice was thin and strained. "I'm just glad you found me."

The vulnerability in his tone made Lex's heart twist with tenderness. Damn Clark for always doing this to him, for sounding like a lost child, and making any of the anger Lex was holding onto evaporate at once. He hissed a ragged breath, and caught Clark in a fierce, not tender, embrace.

"Damn," Lex muttered, holding him close. "I could have hit you. Thank God..." Half expecting Clark to pull away, he was surprised when he didn't, but seemed instead to turn boneless in Lex's arms. Lex loosened his hold, shook off his light jacket and draped it over Clark's shuddering shoulders.

"Come on. I'll take you home. Clark?" Clark slowly raised his eyes. He's in shock, Lex thought, and hurt, scared, and alone. He turned away, a pang of tenderness threatening to throw him off guard, and he beat it down at once.

"Lex, wait," Clark spoke slowly, and Lex turned back to face him. "Don't take me home, yet."

"Why not?" Lex regarded him sternly. "I'm not leaving you here." Lex waited impatiently for Clark to speak further.

"Take me to your place. Please." Clark's gaze melted into something naked, pleading, making the request too powerful for Lex to ignore.

Lex looked down, biting his lip, and started to shake his head. "Clark--"

Clark dropped his eyes, looking almost ashamed. Lex could barely hear him murmur, "I'm scared."

Lex hesitated, and then nodded slowly. He opened the door on the passenger side and motioned for Clark to get in. "Come on."

____________________

"Is Helen here?" Clark asked, as they walked up the stairs to the second floor of Luthor manor. They'd driven all the way from Route 8 to the manor without conversation. As soon as they were in the car, Lex had pulled a flask of brandy from the glove compartment, twisted off the cap, and shoved it into Clark's hand. Lex knew even as he did it that he must have been really rattled to do that. But Clark had accepted it, even taken a few hesitant sips, and they'd ridden in sleepy yet charged silence the rest of the way.

"She's in bed," Lex replied. "Unless she's been called out on an emergency." He cracked the door to his bedroom and peered into the dim light inside, catching a glimpse of tousled dusky curls on a soft pillow. "Yeah," he said, turning back to Clark with a finger on his lips and a quiet smile. "She's asleep."

He stepped closer to Clark and regarded him searchingly, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Clark, maybe Helen should take a look at you. You don't look well. You may be suffering from exposure. She'll be able to tell."

Clark shook his head. "No, Lex. I'm okay. Don't wake her. Let her sleep."

Lex opened his mouth to insist, but then relaxed. "Okay," he agreed. "So, come on. Let's go to my study."

Clark passed a hand over his brow. "Do you care if I lie down for a while? I feel kind of weird."

A shadow of curiosity glanced briefly across Lex's face before he gave Clark the slightest of smiles and a brief nod. "Sure. Let's set you up in one of the other bedrooms so you can get some rest."

He led Clark down the hall and opened another door. The room was smaller, cozier than Lex's. It held a bed, a dresser, a chair, a small refrigerator, and a bedside table with a lamp. One window, near a half-open closet door. That was all.

"Make yourself comfortable," Lex waved an arm into the room. "Want me to wake you in a couple of hours?"

Clark padded over to the bed. "You going to the office tomorrow?" He leaned over to test with his palms the softness of the down quilt that covered it, clean, white, soft as a snowdrift.

Lex grabbed two bottles of water from the small refrigerator, then tossed one to Clark as he turned around. "Here. Drink it: you're probably dehydrated. Probably not till around noon," he continued. The beauty of being the boss, Clark." Lex chuckled with pride as he uncapped the bottle, and then the grin died from his face as Clark licked his lips, then paused.

"I know it's asking a lot, Lex. I'm sure you're tired, and Helen's waiting for you. But, could you hang out with me here for awhile? I'm a little freaked out." Clark sighed.

Lex paused in the middle of a gulp of water, and frowned. He was just about to refuse, until he registered Clark's expression: pleading, steeling himself to expect the refusal. Lex bit his lip, then, aware that he was going to cave without further delay. The frown disappeared, and he nodded.

"Why not?" said Lex. The swipe of his mouth on a shirtsleeve was far more casual than anything he would have done during the day. "I'm flexible tonight." And Clark grinned, his trademark wide grin that could stop every heart within fifty miles, making Lex feel indulgent, exasperated and relieved, all at the same time.

"You win, Kent." Lex stepped over to Clark, and gave him a light shove, "Now, lie down." Clark obediently dropped down on the quilted duvet.

Lex strode to the spacious closet, opened the door, and pulled down a thin thermal blanket from an overhead rack. "Here, cover up." Back at Clark's side, he tucked the blanket around Clark, surprised at the unaccustomed feeling of tenderness that washed over him as he did so.

"You look like an overgrown kid," Lex made his voice brusque to hide the unexpected emotion. Clark grinned, and Lex let his gaze linger for a moment on the handsome youth. On pajamas, and the slightly crooked teeth that somehow only added to the mesmerizing beauty of Clark's face. The crimson mouth, which was curving into a more subdued smile, now. Then a blush, and the warmth of green eyes speckled with gold.

Lex's thoughts went back to a few weeks before, when Lucas had been in town, and the Kents had taken him in when his father had thrown him out. He'd shared a bed with Clark bed those two nights he'd been on the farm, and, even now, felt a surge of emotion as he remembered lying there in the darkness, his senses alert to every breath, every motion of Clark's young, strong form. He'd known after two nights that, if he stayed any longer, he and Clark might both be in serious trouble. He couldn't do that to the Kents, or to Clark, or to himself, for that matter. So, after two mornings of backbreaking chores to burn off the excess energy, he'd said his good-byes.

Since then, whenever Helen had night duty at the hospital, his time was spent conjuring up, then jerking off to, the memory of Clark's warm body close beside him.

He knew being in here with Clark tonight probably wasn't a great idea, either. But, he reached out a gentle hand to ruffle Clark's hair, thinking again that Clark in need of comfort seemed childlike tonight, trusting, dependent. Taking care of him appeared to be answering some need in Lex, too, because he wanted to stay, despite remembering that the beautiful Helen Bryce lay sleeping in his bed. Still, he tried to fight it. "You're a special case, Clark," Lex said, his voice light and amused. "Your parents deserve a medal for everything they have to put up with."

Lex wondered if Clark could be feeling the same surprising pull, because he looked faintly uncomfortable, pulled the blanket close around him, and turned on his side so he lay facing away from Lex. Lex dropped down on the bed next to him, despite the distant note of alarm sounding in his head. He took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and kicked off his shoes.

"I'm worried about you, Clark," Lex began, as he slowly unbuttoned his white dress shirt. "You've been through a lot lately. He lay down, then turned onto his side to regard his friend, leaning on an elbow, one hand supporting his cheek. "First off, I know how you felt about Ryan. Then, there was the incident in Metropolis. Then, your mother almost died, and you were sick, too. Really sick. It's a lot for a kid your age to handle. You could probably use some counseling. Let me make an appointment for you."

"No," said Clark in a low voice, shaking his head, not turning around. "I don't need it, Lex." Even though it was cool in the room, Lex could feel heat radiating from Clark's body, and he could almost swear he trembled. But perhaps it was his imagination.

"It would be a good idea," Lex coaxed. He savored the sensation of being in bed next to Clark. It was an opportunity he hadn't expected to enjoy again. It felt natural and cozy, almost as though Lex imagined it would if they were on a camping trip or a teenage sleepover. But, it felt like more than that, too, just as it had at the farm. He swallowed, hard, muscles working in his throat.

"Nah," said Clark. He turned to face his friend, then and burrowed down into the blankets. "Ah," he sighed. "Feels so good. You don't care if I move in here, too, Lex, do you?" His sleepy smile counterbalanced the faint, husky tone of his voice.

Lex caught his breath, astounded to feel his heart flip at the suggestion, and he stretched, making a concentrated effort to relax. He noticed that, despite the almost forced lightness of Clark's tone, his eyes were still dark. So beautiful, he thought. "Not bad. Better than the middle of Route 8."

Clark was silent. After a moment spent waiting in vain for him to speak, Lex continued in a voice both skeptical and faintly beseeching.

"Clark...what am I going to do with you?"

"I don't know, Lex," Clark sighed. They looked at each other, then, and they both laughed.

When they connected this way, Lex almost felt happy. He resisted with difficulty the impulse to reach out and touch Clark's face.

As his smile faded, Lex held Clark's gaze, and Clark shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny before looking away.

"Clark, tell me what's going on."

Clark rolled onto his back, and shrugged, a sulky expression settling in.

He'll say nothing's going on, thought Lex. I know he will.

But, Clark surprised him. "Damned if I know, Lex."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Lex thought a moment. "I don't believe you."

Clark shrugged. "Well, that's your choice." Lex looked away briefly, and when he looked back, noticed that Clark was chewing hard on his lower lip. Something clenched in Lex' chest; his fingers ached to touch, but he flexed them into fists instead.

"I want to know, because you're important to me." He made certain his voice sounded casual. "You're my best friend. If you're in trouble, I want to help."

Clark's response was a heavy sigh. "You've helped a lot, Lex. So many times. But, I don't think you can help me now. No one can." Lex noted that, despite the cool air in the room, Clark's upper lip, with its thin shadow of stubble, was beaded with perspiration. He looked down at the part of Clark's chest that was above the blanket, and saw that his t-shirt was damp with sweat as well.

"Too warm?" Lex asked, touching his chest lightly, wondering if, at some point, Clark was going to object to being touched, and push his hand away. He hadn't, yet.

"I'm okay," Clark said, his voice clipped. He shifted a little, and pulled his shirt straight.

Lex's heart contracted again. So fucking gorgeous, he mused. So beautiful it was almost pain to look at him. Ridiculous, he thought. Yet one hand stole out again to touch Clark's arm at the elbow. "Don't you know you can trust me?"

Clark didn't answer. He lay still, not moving a muscle. Lex ran a finger down Clark's arm. He dropped his voice even lower, to an urgent whisper.

"You know you've got free access to the caves." He was uncertain, at this point, exactly what he was bargaining for, but he knew it was important that he win.

"Yeah," said Clark. "That's what you said before. And then, you tried to keep me out."

He's holding a grudge, Lex thought, faintly surprised. He wouldn't have expected it.

"Dr. Walden has some pretty fixed notions about handling artifacts and work sites."

"Wish you'd never seen that book of his," Clark muttered bleakly.

"I'd have found him anyway," Lex declared, his voice bland but decisive.

Clark made a low sound of disgust, and set his empty water bottle on the bedside table. Lex, watching him, wondered idly how much time had passed. Soon it would be getting light. He remembered glancing at the car's digital clock a few miles outside Smallville. It had read 2:19, glowing green in the car's dark interior. How long ago had that been. Two hours?

They must have been here in this room much longer than that, Lex thought. Time seemed to have been suspended. Part of Lex wanted to stay still, not to break the unexpected spell that seemed to be over everything: over him, over Clark, in the still air of the chamber.

He looked at Clark, who was slowly relaxing, snuggling deeper into the softness of the bed. A shame he'd have to drive him home soon. It would have been good to wake up together tomorrow morning. This morning, actually. He had a fleeting wish to keep him here, protect him. Forever.

You love him. The voice in his head was flat, calm, firm.

Should he speak? He decided almost at once. He licked his lips, and exhaled, looking off at the wall, at anything. Clark picked up the motion out of the corner of his eye, and turned his head, waiting.

"I always talk too much at night, Clark. The later it gets, the more my tongue comes unglued. Usually the person I'm talking with goes to sleep on me. Who could blame them?"

"Well, let it," said Clark, with an easy smile. "I'm still awake, and I don't mind. I like listening."

"Flatterer."

"I like a lot of things about you, Lex."

"Well, likewise." It was growing chilly in the room, and Lex plucked at the corner of Clark's blanket, urging Clark to relax his grip enough to allow him to cover up, too. Clark did, with a small smirk that made him look like the keeper of a delectable secret.

His bare feet tangled with Lex's, still in socks, as they shifted to get comfortable. Lex hissed, trying to sound exasperated, but Clark's chuckle almost sounded pleased. And, rather than moving closer to the wall to make room for Lex, he cuddled back against him, much to Lex's surprise. Under the warmth of the blankets, they were very close.

Lex didn't usually like to be touched, except during sex. He usually went to great lengths to avoid it. But he felt his senses charge with delight at the feel of Clark's body, and sucked in a breath.

If Clark noticed, he gave no indication. "This is nice," he observed.

Lex struggled to sound casual. "I haven't seen as much of you lately," he heard himself say.

Clark remained quiet for a moment before he spoke. "You're busy," he said slowly. "And, on your off time, you're always with Helen, now."

"Does that bother you?" asked Lex.

Clark snorted. "Not really. You have a right to a girlfriend, I guess." He took a quick breath. "Kind of," he said, more quietly. "I miss us hanging out together."

Lex was quiet, and after a moment, Clark stirred. "Well?"

Lex took a deep breath. "Clark," he said, "if I don't tell you this now, I never will. Just listen. A response would be nice, but not mandatory."

Clark regarded him quietly for a moment. "Sure."

Lex started to speak, stopped, and then tried again. Clark raised his eyebrows, curious, and Lex's wry chuckle almost caught in his throat.

"I'm usually better at speaking my mind than this." He admitted. "Guess you scare me a little, Clark."

Clark huffed, quiet and amused. "I don't think you're scared of anything," he said. "You're always so sure of yourself. Wish I was." Clark sobered, looked suddenly vulnerable. I'm scared, Lex."

"Of what?" Lex asked in a whisper, his tone beseeching. "Tell me."

"I can't, Lex. I can't because I don't know."

How many more times was Clark going to melt his heart tonight? Lex wondered. It was several moments before he felt he could speak.

"Clark, a long time ago, when you asked me to back off, I thought I could do it. But..." He stopped.

"What, Lex?" Clark prompted, but seemed to wait in deadly terror for Lex to proceed.

"Here goes." A bleak sigh, and Lex didn't meet Clark's eyes. "I want you, Clark." he said, noting with faint surprise how oddly matter-of-fact he sounded. "I've wanted you since that afternoon you breathed the life back into me by the river and gave me a new beginning."

Clark swallowed, hard, as he listened. Lex continued, his voice like silk. "But, I can't have you."

Clark sat halfway up with a jolt, and Lex was sure that, any moment, he would wake up from what would prove to have been a splendid dream. For Clark's countenance relaxed and his eyes grew warm with what might have been desire. "Lex..." he began softly.

He looked almost afraid to draw breath, as though his most fervent wish had been answered. "Why not?" Clark demanded in a low voice, tender and yearning.

"Why not," Lex echoed, unable to keep the corners of his mouth settling into a twitch of astonished pleasure at Clark's response. "Because you're too young. And, for a lot of other reasons."

Clark shifted in closer to Lex, turning to gaze at him, waiting to hear what he would say. But Lex still looked off, gnawing his bottom lip, grappling inwardly with his discomfort. Clark put a hand on his arm.

"Look at me, Lex. Name me some. What reasons?" demanded Clark.

"Your parents. Small town. Lana Lang. Just for starters," said Lex, turning back to face Clark, keeping his face blank on purpose.

Clark took a deep breath before he spoke. "Too young? I'm not!" he protested in a whisper, his face desperately indignant. Lex regarded him for a moment without speaking, heart aching at the beauty of Clark's troubled face.

"You're a kid. A lonely, scared, worried kid. And, yes, you are too young for all of this."

Clark continued to stare at him as if he didn't believe what he heard, eyes indignant and round as plates.

"Beautiful, though," Lex heard himself observing. He listened in semi-surprise once again to the words issuing from his lips. "Gorgeous." Touching him. "Peerless. A word that doesn't really apply to many things."

As Lex's hand brushed the front of his sweats, Clark quivered like an aspen in a summer breeze. "What does it mean?" he asked.

"Without equal."

Clark tried to moisten his lips with his tongue, but his voice cracked as he spoke. "Lex. You're making me really hard."

He reached out to grasp Lex's hand, pressing it hard to the front of his pajama bottoms. Much harder than Lex's caress of a moment before. Lex caught his breath, and Clark gasped and bucked up into his palm. They locked eyes for a moment.

"Ah," Lex murmured, stealing a slim hand up the front of Clark's sweats. He'd dreamed of this, more times than he could count. He pulled down the blanket, pushing himself down till his head was level with Clark's waist, then bent down further. With gentle fingers, he traced the outline of Clark's straining cock through the soft material, smiling at the rapidly widening damp spot on the front.

He bent down to flick his tongue over it, which made Clark startle and groan. He reached to grab Lex's scalp, and force his mouth down harder to the fabric, desperate for more pressure. Lex caught his breath, and resisted, trying to free his head, and Clark relaxed his grip with a moan of frustration. Lex sat up, then, his expression, which had been feverish, settling into what he hoped was something less hungry, less naked. Something more sensible. He caught both Clark's hands, which were clutching at air somewhere around his shoulders, and held them, grasped them. They felt warm and strong. Clark whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut, breathing hard.

"Not a good idea, Clark."

"Like I can help it," Clark panted, broke off, cleared his throat. "You're the one that--"

"No," said Lex, letting go of Clark's wrists, and propping himself up, one hand on each side of Clark's hips."You're the one that decided to go sleepwalking barefoot in your pajamas. Then lay in the road just waiting for me to come along. That was too frightened to go home and too scared to stay alone once you got here. So, here we are."

Clark scowled, flinging himself on his side again to face the wall.

Lex drew back. He lay quiet for a moment, his gaze dark, troubled. He reached to Clark's hair, letting his fingers wander through the dark curls. Clark, tense at first, relaxed, nestled into the touch with a sigh. "You do that a lot," said Clark.

"What?" said Lex, his voice low, husky.

"Touch my hair," replied Clark.

No more words were necessary. Lex bent over him, open-mouthed, and Clark stretched up to take his kiss.

Lex let his arms slide around Clark. He smiled, slipping his tongue between Clark's lips, deepening the kiss, bending him back down on the bed.. His hand crept back down to Clark's crotch, stroking, circling. Clark let his legs fall open wider, and pushed up into Lex's hand with a soft moan. The sound coursed through Lex like brushfire; he started, catching his breath, steadying himself with an effort. He found Clark's balls, and kneaded with a gentle, practiced touch, letting the friction of the fabric tease the trapped cock, noting with amusement that the material was rapidly growing wet. He paused, then, causing Clark to stir and groan in protest.

"Okay, Clark?" Lex murmured. He bent to brush his lips over Clark's mouth, letting the tip of his tongue probe inside to meet Clark's once again.

"Yeah..." Clark whispered when Lex broke the kiss. "More than okay. Please," he begged. "Keep touching me, Lex. Harder."

Lex sat back, letting both hands roam down Clark's sides with feather-light fingers, making Clark quiver with pleasure. He let them steal up under the cotton t-shirt to bare Clark's chest, then bent to brush the exposed nipples with his lips. Clark whined as though in pain, and writhed as Lex nipped at them, pressed open-mouthed kisses to the moisture-cooled skin. When Lex shifted down again to press the flat of his tongue to the front of the sweats, Clark started, flinching as though he'd been whipped.

He was panting harder, now, his thumbs skidding jerkily off the elastic waist of his sweats as he tried to pull at them. Lex stopped him. "Let me," he said, and Clark's hands dropped without protest.

Lex grasped the material at Clark's hips, eased the sweats down almost with reverence, not daring to breathe. Freeing Clark's cock, which sprang from its confinement as though it had a life of its own, and, God, he'd waited a long time for this. Lex put his fingers to the uncut head with something like a breathless reverence, unsure where the ache in his chest was coming from. He then let the tip of his tongue reach out to taste where his fingers had been. Clark's breath caught as he tensed, gasped, writhed. Lex licked one palm like a cat tasting cream, and wrapped his fingers around the base. Clark's size made getting a grip a real challenge. And, Lex noticed for the first time how hard he was, himself.

Clark ground himself down into the covers, and Lex shifted so he lay further on top of him, one hand wandering up Clark's side in a ticklish caress. Clark let one hand stray up to brush Lex's scalp, and he groaned. Poor kid, thought Lex, so brave, scared, and needy. Can't put him through this much longer.

Lex opened his mouth, and went down. He worked his mouth around the head, worrying the foreskin, making soft sucking sounds as he pushed, then pulled it back, licking at the slit with the tip of his tongue. He remembered he'd been told once that his mouth and tongue were as agile as the nimble fingers of a concert violinist, that he could have the most resistant partner begging and pleading within minutes. He knew whoever had made that comparison had been right. And he intended to apply this skill to the maximum for Clark tonight. He was worth it. He switched from nipping and teasing to sucking, hard.

If the squeaks, groans and other breathy sounds coming from Clark were sufficient indication, Lex hadn't lost any of his skill since the compliment was bestowed. "God, Lex," he managed to gasp between moans, "That's so good. Please." He clutched at Lex's scalp, grazing the skin with ragged, bitten nails. And Lex tensed with pain, but kept on sucking, breaking only occasionally to babble random endearments like "You're so beautiful, Clark. God, you're gorgeous," in a heated whisper before returning to his task.

Before long, every muscle in Clark's body tightened. His voice cracked as he cried out something unintelligible; Lex couldn't make out the words. He could feel him, though, taste him pulsing, shooting into his throat and mouth. He held Clark steady, not allowing himself to be thrown off. Clark subsided at last, chest heaving, with a final moan, and Lex surrendered himself to the power of his own climax, which swept over him in waves.

Lex pulled off, strings of creamy saliva still connecting him to Clark. He coughed, swallowed, then swiped his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt noting as he did so the sticky dampness of his own trousers. "Fuck," he ground out under his breath, a little dazed. But it wasn't worth a thought, considering the beauty of Clark's flushed face as he lay there beside him, eyes closed, drawing deep breaths, still shuddering with the aftershocks of his intense orgasm.

Lex bent to kiss his mouth more calmly this time, and Clark opened his lips, his sound of satisfaction in uncharted territory between a murmur and a sigh. He stretched, looking sleepy and satisfied as Lex brushed at the front of his slacks.

"This never happens," Lex assured his companion. Clark was watching Lex through half-closed eyes, and chuckling. Lex reached out to stroke his flushed cheek with one finger.

"Are you all right?" he murmured.

"Yeah," said Clark, as if Lex should have known the answer. He reached up and pulled Lex down for another kiss. "Better than all right, Lex. God, you don't even have to ask!"

"So, this was a bad idea, Clark" said Lex after a moment. "I should have taken you straight home."

Clark, engaged in pulling his sweats back up, didn't answer at once. "Don't say that, Lex," he begged.

"Hopefully, I wasn't wrong. I'm hoping you wanted this, too."

"What are you talking about?" said Clark.

"Wanted to have sex." Lex spoke quietly.

"Yeah," Clark snorted again, as though it were an even more stupid question than the last. "I felt like being selfish, for once. I'm always doing what everyone else wants: Mom, Dad, Chloe, Lana. This was for me. For us."

"Come here," said Lex. He coaxed Clark to roll over, then drew him into his arms, clasping him tight.

Clark kissed the red marks on Lex's bare scalp. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"It's okay," said Lex. "Battle scars. I'll mend. Or, maybe I should invest in a crash helmet for next time."

Clark laughed at that, deep enough to shake the mattress. Lex laughed, too, and then sobered.

"If there is a next time. I don't want you to regret anything, Clark."

"Mmm," murmured Clark, sleek and contented, now. "Now, I could sleep. Wonder if I can cut class tomorrow."

"No, Clark," said Lex. "You'll be lucky as it is if your folks don't ground you into the next millennium."

"You're right," he agreed reluctantly. "Let's go."

Lex took only enough time to slip on a clean pair of trousers before opening the door to the dimly lit hall. As they passed Lex's bedroom on the way down, the doorknob clicked and turned. They both slowed to a stop, and Lex could have sworn eons passed as they waited for the door to swing open.

"Helen," Lex willed his voice to sound light, easy, relaxed.

He could feel Clark's hand freeze on his elbow as Helen stepped into the hallway, her fingers nimbly tying the belt of a white silk robe that set off the darkness of her hair, which cascaded in waves over her slender shoulders. A frown of concern darkened on her sleep-flushed face as her gaze went first to Lex, and then settled on Clark.

"Lex. What's--Clark," she said, her voice husky. She cleared her throat. "Is something wrong? Do your parents know you're here?"

"No," said Clark. "I was just..." He shot a look of pure terror in Lex's direction as Helen waited for him to finish.

"He needed to talk," Lex interjected. "So, mum's the word, Helen. His parents won't even have missed him. Go back to bed and wait for me. I'm just running him home." He moved to hold open the bedroom door for her.

"No need to go into doctor-mode." Lex's voice was silken but firm. She didn't look at him.

Instead, she stared intently at Clark before taking him by the arm. "Clark, you're not ill again, are you? You should be home in bed. Your face is flushed, and--where are your shoes?" Helen reached out to straighten his rumpled shirt, but Lex put a hand on her wrist, held it for a minute, and then drew her hand firmly away. He maneuvered her away from Clark, back toward the door. She met his gaze, then, without speaking.

"His shoes are in the car," Lex's bland voice effortlessly cut off any further comments from Helen. "Come on, Clark."

Helen's expression was unreadable. She and Lex exchanged a long look before she stepped back to let them pass. She leaned back against the doorframe, watching as they went down the stairs.

____________________

Dawn was breaking as they stepped outside. Clark was first in the car. As Lex slid into the driver's seat, Clark's arms were around him.

"Lex," he mumbled around Lex's lips as the sun glowed red on the horizon. "Love me, Lex. I love you."

Lex broke the kiss after a long moment and buried his face on Clark's shoulder.

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Golden morning light was shining onto the Kents' house. Clark had slipped into a doze on the way home. As Lex's car turned onto the long driveway, he turned to nudge Clark awake.

"Light enough for you to find your way home, now, Clark."

Clark sat up, forcing sleepy eyes open, licking his rosy lips like a contented kitten.

"Know what, Lex?"

"What." Putting his wrist half over his mouth, Lex yawned, then snapped to focus attentive eyes on his friend.

"You still need to slow down. Work on it."

"Save it," Lex tried to sound gruff, but his voice was tender. "I stopped this time, didn't I? You need to stay out of the road." His eyes twinkled briefly, but then the light faded from them. He turned, then, to look at Clark, but didn't think he could trust himself to meet his eyes.

"All right. I'll try." Clark's tone was warm in the golden light of morning, but he had a far-off look in his eyes.

"Wait, Lex," he counseled. "Let me out here. Or my folks might hear the engine."

"Sure," Lex obediently slowed the car to a stop.

"Watch the gravel," Lex cautioned. "It can be murder on bare feet."

Clark smiled, then, a warm, beautiful smile that caused Lex's heart to twist in his chest. He leaned in to nuzzle, parting Lex's lips with his tongue for one more kiss. Lex felt himself start to melt, but pulled back, and held Clark's gaze. "I still want to know what's going on, Clark."

"I can't tell you, Lex."

"Clark--"Lex murmured. "When can I--"

"I don't know," said Clark. "Ask me later. Call me."

Ladybird bounded up to the car, and started to yip with delight on seeing Clark. "Shush, girl!" Clark hissed in alarm. He caught hold of the dog and gripped her collar firmly. "Quiet!" The dog whined and trembled with excitement.

He turned to Lex with a smile that was both companionable and warm, as though they were in cahoots together against the world. He nodded toward the house. "If there's a God, they'll still be in bed."

"Clark, remember," Lex said, quiet, beseeching. "Next time you're afraid, don't wait. Whether or not you know why. Call me, come to me. I'll be there. Waiting for you."

"Okay, Lex. I will."

But Lex didn't believe it. Clark was drawing away from him, despite what had happened between them tonight. He could taste it. Lex wanted to catch him, hold him fast, but he knew it was a futile hope. Wherever Clark was headed, he knew he couldn't follow.

But, he could try.

Clark picked his way up the dirt and gravel drive, still holding Ladybird by the muzzle to keep her quiet. He stopped for a moment, bent down and said something stern to the dog; Lex could tell by his expression. Lex's smile was wistful, for Clark, once again, looked almost like an overgrown child in his worn sweats and t-shirt. Hardly a child after last night, though, he thought.

Clark looked back once as he walked up the drive, and raised his free hand briefly in farewell.

Lex kept watching him with a concentration that dissolved into desolate yearning as he watched Clark turned back toward the house and tiptoe up the porch steps.

"I love you," he whispered, as Clark slipped into the house.

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