"Out, Damned Spot!"

by a campbell

Smallville, Clark Kent/Lex Luthor

____________________

Summary: Lex is a total pest, bad, out to get Clark, who is industriously trying to clean house as his mother asked him to. Clark tries to be good, but...

A response both to the Frottage challenge and a nod to the Shakespeare title challenge. Note: in my S'ville universe, Clark has a dog, Ladybird. She appears briefly in my earlier fic, Fuzzy Wuzzy Brown.

____________________

Lex took a deep breath of the moist fall air and slipped his car keys into the pocket of his linen slacks as he walked up the front steps of the Kent farmhouse. Scraping his shoes on the welcome mat to rid them of mud from the recent rain, he peered through the screen door into the semi-darkness of the kitchen, seeing no one. "Clark?" he called.

His voice echoed through the stillness of the house. No answer. He has to be here, Lex thought. He'd already checked the barn. Ladybird, muddy but panting happily, had followed him up on the porch, and Lex gave her a light pat on the head, taking care to keep his clean clothes appropriately distant from the mud on her coat.

"Clark!" Lex called again, and, this time, he heard a door slam somewhere inside, and the sound of something being dragged across the floor. In a moment, Clark rounded the corner from the hall, carrying a broom and dustpan and lugging a vacuum behind him. He squinted, his face breaking into a grin as he saw Lex at the door, but then he frowned and hesitated for a moment, as though he were wondering if he should really let Lex in.

Lex didn't let Clark's apparent uncertainty discourage him. "Can I come in, Clark?"

"Lex. What's up?" Pleasure at seeing Lex seemed to be warring with something more serious this afternoon. The door creaked on its hinge as Lex pulled it open.

"Wait," Clark cautioned. "Wipe your feet first, okay?"

Lex paused, looking surprised. "I did, Clark."

"Oh, okay. Come in. Don't let the dog in!" he exclaimed. "Sorry, girl," he apologized through the screen. Ladybird wagged her tail and curled up unoffended on the porch as Lex stepped inside.

"I come bearing paperwork," Lex began, holding up several folders and a clipboard,"for your mother. From Lionel. You should warn her not to be too casual about bringing work home. If Lionel gets used to this, it'll only be the beginning."

Clark laughed, and Lex laid the folders and clipboard on the kitchen counter. He turned back to his friend, who was parking the vacuum by the kitchen door, and gave him a quick up-and-down, appreciative scan. Clark was dressed in a white t-shirt, gray flannel sweats and flip-flops; he swiped his hands on the front of his pants and scuffed over to the refrigerator as Lex leaned against the counter. Clark scanned the interior shelves. "Pepsi or ginger ale?" he inquired.

"You have to ask?" said Lex, leaning against the counter.

Clark grinned, and tossed a can of Canada Dry, which Lex caught easily. He pulled the tab and took a long draught before speaking again. "Thanks."

Clark flicked on the light switch and then turned to Lex, raising his eyebrows as he waited for him to speak further. Lex moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue and scanned the cleaning tools.

"What happened, Clark? Another wild party at the Kents?"

"No," said Clark, popping open a Pepsi can. "Mom just asked if I'd sweep and vacuum while she and Dad are at the IGA. I'm just about to get started." He took a giant swig of soda, set the can on the counter, and began unwinding the vacuum cord as he spoke.

"You're being the good son. Nice." Lex had already finished his drink. He tossed the can into the recycle bin by the door and wandered from the kitchen into the living room, hands in his pockets. "This place doesn't look like it needs to be cleaned. It's spotless."

"Yeah, but I said I would. I promised. She'll know if I don't. And, if I want her to let me go to Kansas City with you this coming Friday, I have to earn it. No freebies. That's the word."

"I see," said Lex thoughtfully. He ran a finger along the television cabinet and then moved on to the bookshelf, pretending to check for dust. "Hmm..." he murmured, rubbing the soles of his thumb and forefinger together. "Looks pretty good to me. The place is clean. And, it's a cold, gloomy afternoon. Why don't we hang out in your room for awhile. Warm up a bit?" He moved back to Clark, holding his gaze, the invitation impossible to miss.

Clark took a deep breath, the color rising to his cheeks, but then shook his head. "That would be cool, Lex, but I have to get this done if we want to go on that trip. Hold that thought till the weekend."

"Clark," Lex's voice dropped to a low murmur, "The place looks fine." He put a hand on Clark's arm and, grasping ever so gently, tried to draw him toward the stairs.

Clark hesitated, as though tempted for a moment, biting his lower lip till it glistened, a sight which Lex found nearly devastating. Lex rarely let his desire show so clearly, and he knew Clark would find this openness hard to resist. He sensed Clark taking a brief moment to savor Lex wanting him this way, and just barely caught a delicious shiver that Clark couldn't entirely hide. But he shook his head again, duty clearly winning out, and moved to free his arm from Lex's grasp.

"Mom won't think so, Lex. You don't know how particular she is when I'm doing the cleaning. And, you just aren't looking close enough, anyway. The floor is pretty gross. Dustballs, crumbs. Where the heck does it all come from?" Clark looked around the room, spreading his hands helplessly.

Lex looked down with a chuckle. "I see. Well, how about if I help you?"

Clark looked skeptical, his expression making it clear that he didn't believe for one moment that Lex had ever swept a floor in his life. "You don't have to do that, Lex."

"What if I want to?" Lex responded, as though it were a challenge.

"Then, it's my lucky afternoon, I guess," said Clark with a shrug.

"Where should we start?" Lex was rolling up the cuffs of his long-sleeved dress shirt as he spoke.

"I have to sweep the kitchen and the dining area, vacuum the living room, and mop the kitchen floor."

"Oh. Hmm." Lex looked around. "Where's the mop?"

"Over by the sink."

"Got another broom?"

"In the closet."

"Well, come on, then."

Clark sighed as Lex went to the broom closet and drew forth the well-used broom from inside. It was nice of Lex to want to help, he conceded to himself, but had he not shown up, Clark knew he could have super-speeded through the house and had everything cleaned in thirty seconds. But now, he'd have to do it the regular way. "Okay," he said, resigned to spending a lot longer at this task than he'd planned to.

They swept the kitchen and dining room, and then headed into the living room. Lex was bending to plug in the vacuum when Clark held up a hand to stop him. "Wait," said Clark. "Ladybird hangs out in here a lot. It's a lot easier to vacuum if you pick up the hairballs beforehand. If you don't, they clog up the machine. Let me do it, Lex, since you're too dressed up to get on the floor."

"Okay," Lex said agreeably. His lips twitched as Clark stretched out on his side on the floor in front of the couch, and reached underneath.

"Oh, yuck," said Clark. "I wondered what happened to these." Lex smothered a chuckle as Clark drew forth a pair of hair-studded, wadded up, grubby white socks with a grimace of distaste. He then thrust his hands back under the sofa again and pulled out another sock, equally dirty, a pencil, and two ballpoint pens, all covered in pet hair.

"Dang it," said Clark. "No matter how many of these furballs I pick up, there are always more. I can never get them all. Grab me a plastic bag from the drawer by the refrigerator in the kitchen, okay, Lex?" He scrambled to his feet with the handfuls of hair and dust, only to find himself enveloped from the back by Lex's slim, strong arms. "Hey!" He responded with an uneasy chuckle, then, letting the dust drop, he put his hand on one of Lex's, turned around and gave his friend what he hoped was a stern, serious look. Lex responded with an innocent one of his own, and raised his eyebrows. Clark sighed, tense. "Not now," he said, moving to free himself from Lex's embrace.

Lex didn't relax his hold. "Why not?" he protested, moving in to nuzzle Clark's neck and nibble at his ear, taking special care to breathe warm breath into the hollow. "I haven't seen you since late last week, Clark. Come on." He smoothed one hand down over the front of Clark's sweats, and brushed a light kiss over the boy's lips.

"Lex, no," Clark protested in a worried mumble around Lex's mouth. "Don't do this to me. We have to get this done."

"I'll do it," Lex's voice was a sleek whisper in Clark's ear, "I'll do it all. After. When we're finished." He tongued the rim of Clark's ear, eliciting a shiver. Tangling his fingers in Clark's dusky hair, he breathed in the warmth emanating from his skin. His supple hands roamed up over Clark's arms and back down over his hips. "I love you in sweats," Lex murmured. "So sexy." He fumbled at the drawstring closure with the fingers of one hand and began working his other hand down the front of Clark's pants.

Clark gasped, feeling himself go hard right away, and noting that, all of a sudden, Lex seemed to have a million hands. He tried to swat them away, but without success. So, he tried more verbal persuasion.

"Lex, we can't. Mom and Dad...There's not that much time. I've still got to--"

"Your folks are buying their big order of groceries today, right?"

"Yeah, but--"

"Well, then...they'll be awhile. We have a little time, Clark. Let's make the most of it."

Lex took Clark by the arms and pushed him back against the wall. "I've been wanting this all week, Clark. Don't make me wait any longer." He nailed Clark's mouth with a practiced kiss before he could protest further.

Clark tensed, knowing it was a mistake to get out of "work mode" and then came the inevitable meltdown. His powers of resistance, super or not, crumbled when Lex got persuasive. Lex slipped both hands under Clark's t-shirt, pushed it up, slid to his knees and licked a stripe across the bare stomach. Clark caught his breath. "Relax, Clark," Lex soothed, murmuring into the toned flesh of Clark's abdomen, and reaching down for a squeeze, "We'll get everything done. Trust me." He gave the bronzed skin another swipe with his tongue.

Clark relaxed, giving himself over to the sleek sensation of Lex kneading his erection through the soft material of the sweats and rubbing himself against Clark's body. His hands rose up to cradle Lex's scalp as Lex roamed down to tease Clark's swollen cock with his lips through the soft fabric of the sweats, nipping and sucking through the fleece. Clark guided his head, positioning it just so, moaning in sweet agony as Lex cajoled the taut flesh to increased firmness, and straining up, feeling the wetness of Lex's mouth seep into the material. Lex then reached up and coaxed Clark down to his knees as well.

Clark melted to the floor with one last hiss of protest. "This is such a bad idea," he groaned, pressing his lips to Lex's, then opening them for one of the slow, wet kisses that they both loved. Lex pushed him down further so he lay on his back.

"I wouldn't say that," Lex protested in a whisper. "It's the best idea I've had all day." He pinned Clark's arms to the carpeted floor and gazed down, his eyes darkening, "You're so hot, Clark. So beautiful." He reached down to stroke him further, and Clark thrust up into his hand. Lex bent so he lay over Clark with their crotches aligned, half across Clark's body, and continued to whisper huskily into Clark's ear.

"Silly to waste time getting undressed when it's so good this way," he murmured thickly between kisses. "Never mind the cleaning. We can finish it later. It won't take long."

"Yeah, okay." Clark's voice was thick with desire as he bucked and pumped up against Lex. Despite his earlier commitment, he had ceased caring about the housework for now. The friction of cocks through clothing was enough to bring him to the brink of release, and he swallowed, hard, and then gasped as Lex ran his lips across his throat, then reached between their bodies to rub the crease between Clark's hip and leg.

"That's so good, Lex. Don't stop. . ." Clark's words degenerated into soft whimpers.

Lex shifted his weight to maximize the friction pressure on both their cocks and invaded Clark's mouth again with his tongue, then buried his face in the warm flesh of his neck. "Damn, Clark," he hissed. "I couldn't stop if I wanted to. Come on, Clark," he chanted, pressing harder against him as he thrust. "Come for me."

And Clark did, groaning with pleasure as he climaxed. Lex clung to him, gentling him as his breathing subsided, feeling the warm wetness seeped through Clark's clothing and soak into his. This sent him over the edge at last and he came gasping Clark's name.

____________________

Clark dragged himself up to a sitting position against the front of the couch, his eyes glazed with satisfaction. He looked up at Lex, who was gazing down at him with amusement and affection, a little dazed. Clark sighed, and looked around, defeated.

"And you said it was a bad idea!" Lex chuckled. Clark fixed him with a glare that could almost have burned through steel. He ran a hand shakily through his mussed hair, and heaved a deep sigh, unsure whether he was primarily satisfied or annoyed. It had been great, but, now what? The housework had not been done by gnomes, and, God, look at his clothes!

"Lex," he hissed. "You suck."

"I know," said Lex evenly. "Whenever I can." He tried to muffle a spurt of laughter as Clark blushed, and the chuckle rapidly escalated into a laugh.. He bent down on his haunches and held Clark's gaze, shaking his head.

"Clark, look at you. You're looking completely debauched."

"I have been, I think," fumed Clark. "Thanks to you," and moaned as he looked down at his lap. "Look at this. What a mess."

"Sorry, Clark. You're just irresistible." said Lex with an easy smile.

Clark responded with a scowl. "Yeah, right." Lex tried to gather him into another embrace, but Clark tried to shrug away, which caused Lex to lose his balance. They tumbled together into a heap on the floor, and both burst into laughter. Clark relented, and gathered Lex in for a quick hug. "How pathetic are we, Lex?" he murmured. Lex's only response was a half-smothered snicker.

"Ah, well," said Lex after a moment, freeing himself from Clark's embrace, "get up. We'd better finish this cleaning operation before Martha and Jonathan get back."

Clark snorted as he got to his feet, still in a snit. "Thanks a lot, Lex. Like I want my folks to see me this way! With spit and come all over my sweats. God, Lex. Especially with you here. We could kiss Kansas City goodbye, and any other trips, visits or time together for the next ninety-nine years!"

"Well, I could leave right now," Lex suggested.

"That's not going to dry off my pants." Clark's voice rose in querulous exasperation. "That was my last clean pair! Everything else is in the wash. I don't have anything to wear, and Mom and Dad will be home anytime. What am I going to do? Go hang out in the loft until Mom does the laundry?" Clark rubbed at the front of his sweats, shaking his head, with a slight grimace of distaste. He sighed, knowing he wasn't sounding as angry as he would have liked.. It had been too good for that.

Lex was regarding him with quizzical amusement, waiting for his outburst to finish. He knew Clark well enough to be sure he wasn't really angry.

"Enough whining, Clark. You're breaking my heart, giving me a headache, and spoiling what's been a very nice afternoon, so far."

Clark tried to resist, but broke into a smile, then ducked his head and blushed, biting his lip.

"What's Mom going to say when she sees these, Lex?"

"Don't be silly, Clark. Don't let her see them."

"She'll see them when she does the laundry," Clark protested. "Even if they're dry by then you can still--tell--what happened."

"Well, they have to find out about us sometime," Lex began, and broke into laughter again at the horrified expression on Clark's face. "I'm kidding, Clark." Lex put out a hand and trailed a finger down the damp front of Clark's pants, then slid the finger into his mouth, letting his eyes fall half closed and making Clark catch his breath.

"Do that, Lex, and we will have to go upstairs," he threatened, his voice quavering ever so slightly.

Lex smirked, and turned his attention back to the sweats. "Just wash them yourself," he advised. "Start the machine now."

Clark looked at him as though he were speaking an ancient dead language. Lex sighed in exasperation.

"Clark, please don't tell me you don't know how to run the washing machine."

"I know I should," Clark said ruefully, "But, Mom's always afraid I'll mess it up."

"You won't, not if you're careful. You'll need to know how to do this by the time you get to college, you know. Start a load right now, and find yourself some pajama bottoms, or something, to wear until they're ready again." Lex paused. "You do own pajamas, right?"

"Yeah," Clark grumbled.

"Then hand me that bottle of Shout that's on the top shelf. You can reach it easier than I can." Clark did, and Lex aimed the spray bottle at the entire stained area and pumped the trigger, hard, soaking the front of the sweats even more. He collapsed into laughter as Clark yelped and tried to grab the bottle from his hand.

"It should wash out with no problem, now," Lex assured him. "Just let me work it in a little." He reached out to touch the fabric again, but exasperated Clark was firm in his resistance this time.

"Lex, stop." Clark begged in desperation, fending off Lex's outstretched hand. "Mom and Dad really will be home soon, now."

Lex didn't push this time, but reach up instead to run slim, lingering fingers through Clark's hair. "Is the other stuff in this basket waiting to be washed?" he asked, drawing his hand back with reluctance, and turning back to the work at hand.

"I think so," said Clark, peering over Lex's shoulder. He bent to fish in the basket and pulled out a pair of cotton pajama bottoms. "These aren't that dirty," he declared, "but the elastic's going." He stripped out of his now-soaking sweats and slipped on the pajamas on as Lex continued to filter through the basket of laundry, evaluating each piece with a practiced eye.

"You'll make extra points with your mom if you do the rest of the stuff in the basket along with them. She might even let you sleep over next weekend! Hmm. Colors, whites--no problem. Set the temperature on "cold" and throw them all in together. Got some detergent?" asked Lex blandly.

Clark handed him the bottle of liquid Tide while watching, impressed, as Lex measured one capful and poured it into the machine. Lex was always surprising him. There was just no end to the things he knew. He glanced at the washing machine as it started to churn, and then at Lex.. "Your pants are kind of a mess, too, Lex," he observed, a wicked sparkle in his eye. "Hand me the Shout."

Lex looked down and ruefully brushed a hand over his crotch. He hadn't even noticed, but really, it would go no easier on Clark if the Kents saw him in this state. "Ah, well. So, I'd better be running along, I guess. Clark!" he exclaimed, with a warning glare, as Clark aimed the spray bottle in his direction. "Don't you dare!"

Clark paused, and then relented, setting the bottle back on the shelf. "I suppose you could throw your slacks in the wash, too, Lex, but Mom will be home before the load is dry, and I'm sure she'd have some questions about what they're doing here. Too bad."

"I couldn't do that, anyway. They have to be dry cleaned. Come on! So I can get out of here before they get back, and you can get the credit for doing the wash."

Clark threw an arm around his friend, and nuzzled down for a kiss. "Thanks, Lex. You're good to me. Even if you did slow things down this afternoon."

"In every way possible," said Lex. He brushed a finger down one side of Clark's face, smiling at the hint of stubble his touch encountered.

"Now, just throw everything in the dryer when it's finished, with one of those dryer sheets, and run up to your room!" Lex leaned over for a kiss, and one more squeeze through the pajamas. "I'm gone," he said. "I'll pick you up Saturday."

He breezed out the door before Clark could say anything else except, "Watch the dog!"

Clark went to the door, watched his friend drive off down the Kents' muddy driveway, and smiled. Lex had apparently forgotten all about the sweeping and vacuuming he'd offered to complete. Oh, well. Clark yanked up the slipping pajama bottoms, grabbed the mop, and got ready for some really super speed.

____________________

Feedback is welcome at amoss53@yahoo.com

Return to homepage