What Are Friends For?

by a campbell

Smallville, Clark Kent/Lex Luthor

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NC-17, Spoilers for Tempest

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Thamiris, I am reminded how fond both you and I are of blow jobs, so here you go. Happy Birthday! Many thanks for fajrdrako for the beta assistance. None of us own Lex or Clark, alas, however much we'd like to!

This is what really happened in the loft scene in "Tempest".

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A rough week, thought Lex, and he was still smarting, bruises all over which couldn’t be seen on the flesh. Dazed with exhaustion, and he could easily be devoting attention to the buyout plans 24/7. So why was he here at the Kents' barn, climbing the stairs to Clark's loft? It wasn't as if he didn't have enough going on, things Clark would have no comprehension of. Or as though Clark could begin to understand dealing with Lionel, although he did have paternal concerns of his own.

Of course, if Lionel were capable of being proud of him, he'd have admired the way he'd kept a lid on his emotions this week. Up to this point.

But that afternoon, at the Talon, Lex had come upon Clark being questioned by Nixon. He'd felt how uneasy Clark was, seen him swallow, throat tight, and the worried cast of his face. For some time now Lex had suspected Clark knew more than he was saying, and it was part of his nature and conditioning to try to get as much information as possible in any given situation. That made him keep wanting to push. Even if it did make Clark uneasy, because damn, he looked pretty when he blushed and stammered. Enough to make Lex want to drop to his knees and blow him on the spot.

Sure, it was aggravating to know Clark wasn't telling him everything. But Lex admitted that Clark didn't owe him the information, whether or not he frequently tried to play the "Friends should be honest with each other" card. The bottom line was: he wanted to keep Clark safe. He struggled daily with mixed emotions: a combination of annoyance, disappointment, and a startling urge to protect. Before he met with Roger that night, he needed to see Clark alone, talk to him. Because that bastard wasn't going to do anything to him, or harm him in any way.

Clark might have secrets, but he had stood by Lex, and Lex would do the same. What are friends for? Clark had said earlier in the day. True enough. But Lex could still hope that someday...

He heard Clark calling out before he could get a good view. "Mom! Could you give me a hand with this?"

Thinks I'm Martha, Lex thought with a chuckle. He continued scuffing up the stairs till Clark came into sight, white shirt, dress pants, suspenders. Oh, yes, thought Lex. He'd forgotten Clark's big date tonight.

Clark whipped around. "Who's there?"

Lex reached the top of the stairs, responded with a light chuckle. "It's me, Clark. You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Clark turned to greet him with his typical reaction: something like wariness, combined with kindling interest. Contrary to expectations, he looked younger in his dance garb, like a middle-school boy decked out to be ringbearer at a cousin's wedding. But he looked damn fine, too. It was a good thing Lex was used to hiding his emotions, even if he might occasionally be controlled by them as Lionel said. The sight of Clark in dress shirt, pants, suspenders, dark silk contrasting with the white of his shirt, was enough to make Lex's throat go tight and his heart twist with yearning.

"Really? You seem a little tense." He was relieved at the steady calm of his voice, even as he felt his heart pick up the pace in his chest.

Clark fumbled with his black bow tie. "It's just the, uh, dance and everything."

Clark had a habit of being endearingly clumsy when they were together. Lex stepped over to his side and motioned him closer.

"C'mere. I'm sure I've tied more of these than your mother." Clark let both arms fall and stood obediently while Lex's practiced hands finished the task. Lex noted the fresh, dry-cleaned scent of the dark fabric and caught a cool whiff of men's cologne. He tried to concentrate on tying the tie and resisting the urge to gaze into Clark's eyes.

"Thought you were holed up in the mansion," Clark's voice was casual as he continued.

I was, thought Lex. And I was missing you badly. "Well I needed to clear my head. Took a drive, ended up here. Didn't mean to bother you on your big day." He let his voice go quiet, intimate, for the last sentence.

"I've got a little time. Chloe's picking me up." Lex could feel the warmth of Clark's body as his deft fingers knotted and looped the fabric.

"That's very progressive. What happened to the truck?" Clark and Nixon had been talking about the truck when he'd come up on them in the Talon. He'd heard enough to know there'd been some kind of mishap. Lex let go of Clark, tie neatly tied, and Clark gave it it final jerk to adjust it.

"A farming accident. You know how it is."

"Never was much of a farmer," Lex said easily.

"So how goes the bailout?" Clark reached for his jacket, began slipping it on.

"I'm not sure, Clark. I think it's gonna get ugly before it gets better. My father's dead set against me succeeding."

Clark's expression seemed sincerely puzzled as he pulled his coat straight. "Why would your father be against the plant?"

He has no clue, Lex thought. "We have a complicated relationship, Clark. My father wants me to believe it's built on trust, but it's not. It's built on lies and deceit. Any relationship with that foundation is destined to fail. Lucky we don't have that problem." His throat tightened; he knew Clark was hiding things. Then he looked up and down, thinking: Damn. What does it matter when he looks like that?

"Lucky us," said Clark. He sounded uncomfortable, and almost a little too flip as he stepped in front of the mirror for one more appraisal.

He knows, thought Lex, and continued easily. "I want you to know that, whatever happens in the next few days, I'm still your friend and that's never going to change. I hope you feel the same way."

Clark turned to face him. "I do," he agreed. They stared at each other for a long moment.

Clark has a date tonight. I should not be doing this, Lex thought, but the urge to escape for a few moments was too strong to resist.

He placed both hands on Clark's, which were kneading the button that held his coat closed. He stepped in closer, ran a finger down the puckered front of Clark's dress shirt, then flattened his palm to stroke. Clark's chest was firm beneath the material and rose to meet his touch as Clark caught a quick breath. Lex cruised over to pluck at a nipple, and raised an eyebrow.

"An undershirt?"

"Yeah," Clark's eyes had grown big and round, but he smiled. "You get dressed up for the spring formal... Lex.."

"Pity," Lex made a clucking sound. "But nice." Clark's gaze darkened, and Lex raised his head a little, opened his mouth to tease Clark's open with his tongue, then kiss deep. Clark must have been on breath mints all afternoon, he mused as he let arms slide around the dark jacket, and his tongue probed. Clark gave a slight whimper, tensed, and then relaxed into the kiss. Lex's hand moved lower, stroked over the dark fabric below the belt. He felt Clark, already half-hard, harden further under his touch, heard him exhale a shaking sigh as he pressed impatiently against Lex's palm.

Still caressing, Lex leaned up to murmur in Clark's ear. "I think you might want to get rid of this before Chloe shows up. Wouldn't want her to get the wrong idea." Clark's response to the squeeze that punctuated Lex's advice could only be termed a squeak.

Clark licked his lips, hesitated, flustered. "Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I guess not. I mean--"

"How much time do we have?" Lex tossed off in a voice that was almost a whisper.

Clark glanced at his watch. "Um. Maybe a half-hour?" The lift of his eyebrows and his expectant expression almost made Lex laugh.

"Time enough," declared Lex. He'd been making a point so far to speak in the low, husky voice he knew never failed to turn Clark on; now he intensified it, "I'll be quick, Clark. And neat. Trust me."

Clark looked for a brief moment as though he were thinking about refusing. Only for an instant; Lex could see him give up and give in almost immediately. He let himself fall back against the wall, eyes sliding shut.

Victory, thought Lex with satisfaction. And an easy one. Such a snap to bend Clark to his will. He began to reach out, then let his fingers curl into fists, fighting the urge to pull Clark close, bury his face in the linen shirt. Spoiling that elegant appearance was not something Lex wanted to do. He held up a finger and dropped to his knees. Flicked open the buttons one by one on Clark's dress pants, then reached in to ease his cock out through the fold in his boxers. He touched the tip of his tongue to the slit in the plum-hued head, tasted the sticky fluid already leaking. Let his tongue trail around in lazy circles, felt saliva gathering in the corners of his mouth.

Clark‘s panting breath caught in his throat, and Lex slowed to a stop. Clark kept his eyes squeezed shut, babbled in a whisper. "Lex, God, don't tease, damn it. Suck me, now, do it hard, please, God..."

Lex pulled off and sighed theatrically with a slight, indulgent grin. "Don't want to mess anything up," he protested in a voice of silk, making sure to blow cool breath on the tip of Clark's cock as he spoke. Pointless to try to resist teasing Clark, as he always failed. Especially when Clark begged. "This may not be a good idea."

He imagined Martha wouldn't have much liked the stream of profanity that was Clark's response, though he relished it when Clark forgot his straight-laced upbringing enough to say what he was feeling. Clark gripped his head surely harder than he had intended, but relaxed his grasp as Lex gave a small gasp of pain.

"Lex, please!" And Lex figured for his own sake he'd better pick up the pace.

"Okay, Clark, you're right. Time is limited this evening, so..." After one more gentle prod at the sac with pointed tongue, and one more bleat from Clark, Lex opened his mouth and swallowed fast, sucking hard on the head and letting fingers tickle and play in the thatch of hair around Clark's balls, then slid further down the shaft, hollowing his cheeks and flexing his mouth. He'd have smiled at Clark's throaty moan above him, had he been able.

If I asked him now, would he tell me? Lex wondered. Just an academic question at the moment. He wasn't going to take that kind of advantage, right before the Spring Formal. This year, at least.

It was no time at all before Clark tensed and shuddered and Lex pulled back a little, just far enough to taste creamy liquid as it hit the roof of his mouth. He stayed still for a few moments, savoring Clark's tremors, before reluctantly setting him free. He sat back on his heels, head bowed, taking the sound of Clark's gasps, gradually slowing, as the sincerest of compliments.

"God, Lex," Clark's voice was a faint stammer, and his eyes were still closed.

Lex wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before helping Clark tuck himself away. "See, I told you," Lex said, negotiating the buttons with efficiency. "Didn't spill a drop. Clothes all pristine..." He stood up, touched Clark's neck right below the chin, let his fingers stroke, then glide again down Clark's chest. Clark's glazed eyes fixed on his.

"Help you relax?"

Clark nodded slowly, and took a deep breath. In a moment, he could speak again. "Thanks." He snapped himself out of his daze and glanced at his watch, then half-apologetically at Lex. "Lex, I...Chloe will be here soon."

"Right. I'm on my way, then. Now that her virginity is safe."

"Lex!" Lex chuckled at the furious blush that stained Clark's fine cheekbones at his words.

"I'm teasing, Clark," Clark's frown relaxed as Lex assured him.

"Like you couldn't get hard again in time." Lex laughed louder as Clark blushed and fumed.

"Stop it," Clark said thickly. "When she gets here, I have to be good, and in control, and...not the way I am when you're around."

Yeah, okay." He moved in for a kiss that he figured was long enough and wet enough for Clark to taste himself, and released Clark from his embrace. "Show Chloe a good time tonight." He drew a foil-wrapped condom from his pocket and held it up, then moved to place it in Clark's hand.

Clark yanked his hand back. "I'm not planning on having sex with her, Lex." And, Clark might be trying to look and sound indignant, Lex thought, but it was a good bet he obviously found the suggestion more than a little tempting.

"Well, que sera, sera, Clark." Lex laid both packages on Clark's desk. "Whatever happens, be ready, all honorable intentions aside. Hope the dance is a good one, and the two of you have a great evening, however you spend it." Lex turned to the stairs.

Clark's voice followed him. "But what do you think's gonna happen?"

Lex turned back and met his wondering gaze.

"With the plant, I mean?" Clark looked down at the floor, fidgeting

Lex shook his head, and sighed. "I don't know. I've just got a bad feeling. Kind of like when you can smell the air change before a storm."

Tell me, Clark. Tell me yourself. We can fight them together. Nixon and my father.

"Storms are a way of life around here, Lex. The trick is not to get caught out in the open."

Clark seemed to be trying to keep his expression neutral, but his voice was soft and warm. His breathing had calmed, but his face was still flushed. Lex didn't want to leave, wanted to stay and fold him in his arms, do what they'd just done over for the next few hours, at least. But he had to get back to work.

"Look after yourself."

Outside, Lex felt his mouth curl into a smile as he yanked open the door of his car. Smiling at himself, really. It could easily drive him crazy if he let it, that Clark wouldn't share. But being able to play him helped.

He felt better, now, more able to deal with Lionel. He could win. He would win.

Lex looked around the farmyard one last time. The wind was picking up, and it was hot for this early in the spring, even though it was near sunset. Coasting a hand over his sweat-damp scalp, he hoped Clark would be comfortable in the tux tonight. He slid into the drivers' seat and revved the engine.

So what if he couldn't get Clark to tell his secrets right now. There were still ways of controlling him.

And, one of these days, he'd get him to tell everything.

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Feedback is welcome at amoss53@yahoo.com

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