With Interest

by a campbell

Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, NC-17

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“So, Lex. What do I do now?” Clark sat on the library couch, clasping and unclasping hands and raised questioning eyebrows as he looked up at his best friend.

“You tell me.” Lex looked away, lifted his glass to drain the last drops of his orange juice without turning back to him. If it had been anyone but Clark, this entire conversation would have been unbearably trite and shallow. But it was Clark, and so Lex was finding himself uncommonly tolerant that autumn morning.

“It was great at first. Being alone with her in the limo... we’d never really been on a date before. I mean, not a date. This wasn’t a date.”

Lex understood that Clark wanted to talk about Lana. The “non-date,” so effectively set up, had been a bust. His parents were overprotective as hell, not to mention too proud to except financial help from a reasonable source to alleviate conditions at the farm. His other friends certainly didn’t seem to understand him. All were too young and inexperienced to offer him the appropriately sympathetic ear, or…whatever other body parts might be appropriate. Lex pondered modestly that his age and experience could be perceived as a valuable resource. But all this conversation about Lana Lang, even delivered to his more mature ear, was causing more problems for Clark rather than solving those he already had.

“I tried for a second chance, believe me. But Whitney’s back, they’ve got a 'real' date on for tomorrow, and I’m back at square one. No, wait, I think I’m even further back than that.”

Clark heaved a semi-miserable sigh, and Lex’s stomach gave a little flip at the big-eyed, soulful gaze and the mellow emotion in his voice.

He had it bad, and he knew it.

“Thanks for trying to help me, anyway. For the tickets, and the transportation,” A shrug. “Fun while it lasted. At least I think she was having fun, but then the news came on in the limo and…had to see if I could help, and that was that.”

Lex let a beat or two go by before responding, taking care to keep his voice bland and even. “You’re a good person, Clark.”

“I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this. And I have to get to school. It’s just…”

Lex nodded, then ducked his head for a smirk. Clark really didn’t have to say anything further. He was begging for it and just didn’t know it, and if someone didn’t take the edge off for him soon, he’d combust. Poor, innocent Clark. So concerned about doing the right thing. He recalled that feeling from long ago himself, back when some shred of him had still cared about being virtuous.

Lex made his mind up quickly. So he got in late to work today. One of the perks of being the boss. Chalk it up as time lost to community and public service.

“I know,” said Lex. “Believe me, I’ve been there.” Lex stepped behind Clark, reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder, felt Clark stiffen, then relax into his touch. Clark sighed as Lex trailed a finger on his other shoulder, then grasped, and began to administer what he was quite confident was close to an expert massage. Noticed Clark was strung tighter than a drum, or, to avoid the cliché, than a child’s top or one of those cheap plastic toys that, when wound, would jump crazily all over the place before snapping a spring. Noticed the warmth of his flesh through the soft, worn plaid fabric. Clark shifted in his seat, and Lex noted his deep blush and futile attempt to conceal his arousal by tugging down the hem of his shirt as far as it would go. Which wasn’t far enough.

Lex could almost feel the spark that glistened in his own eye. Clark was turned on. He resisted the itch to lean in and kiss a cheekbone, caress that handsome face. Instead, he drew a deep breath.

Clark eased himself from Lex’s grip. “Well, you’ve got to get over to the plant.” He made as if to rise, but Lex motioned him to stay seated.

“No big hurry this morning,” Lex, having refilled his glass, punctuated his response with a large gulp of juice, swallowed, then smiled. “I have a few minutes for my friends.” He aimed for a gaze that was moist and affectionate as he sat down beside Clark. Clark’s grin faded as their gazes locked.

Lex leaned in. He let a cool palm glide up Clark’s denim-clad thigh, half prepared to have his hand swatted away. Clark didn’t touch Lex, but he did tense, with an uncomfortable chuckle.

“Lex, what are you doing?” He spoke in the slightly scornful tone of camaraderie Lex had sometimes heard him use with Pete Ross. Then he shifted, blushed, and tried to again to conceal his obvious arousal.

Just keep going, Lex instructed himself.

“Let’s be sensible, Clark. You won’t be able to concentrate on school like this, much less travel there to begin with, and if you get around Lana, well…I’m not sure this wouldn’t scare her away.” Clark caught his breath, eyes wide with astonishment, his cheeks staining an even deeper rose. “Or at least give her the wrong idea,” he finished “She’s to be wooed and won slowly.”

Do it, Lex told himself.

He reached up to trace the bulge in Clark’s jeans with a fingertip, felt the strength and warmth of taut flesh through the denim. His first thought was: this really can’t all be him, can it? His second: No, not for Lana. Not in a million years. It was his.

Clark shrugged, looking both embarrassed, and, in an odd way, proud. But he didn’t seem to mind the intimate touches, which Lex found a ridiculous relief. “Talking about her with you…just…I don’t know.” His voice trailed off, his gaze darkening, and Lex swallowed hard and finished the sentence for him in his most seductive voice.

“Arouses you? That’s not surprising. Take my advice, Clark: don’t give up. Keep at it. Ask her out again, when Whitney goes out of town. And one of these days: you’ll get your heart’s desire. But till then…why not let me help you out?” He placed his palm on Clark’s growing erection and stroked again, both firmer and more gentle this time, and glanced up to see Clark gnawing his lip, his handsome face darkening with worry, fear and what Lex was sure was desire threatening to overtake all. Whatever the primary emotion, he had to be sure to manage this reaction appropriately.

“Don’t be nervous,” he whispered, moving in closer. “Just relax.”

He knew his powers of persuasion were legendary. But would they work now? On Clark?

Of course they would. He could get whatever he wanted out of anyone, except perhaps Lionel. He banished the thought with a vengeance. His father was the last person he wanted to be thinking of now.

“Okay? Now I’m just going to…” His wandering thumb and index finger arrived at Clark’s zipper, then grasped, and Clark made a small sound and put his palm over Lex’s hand.

“Um…Lex—“

But he’s too polite to push me away, Lex told himself, determined to stay focused. Better pick up the pace before that strict Midwestern upbringing gets the better of him.

“Lex,” and despite the alarm in his gaze, Lex detected the hint of needy whine in Clark’s voice, “I don’t think this is the greatest idea.”

Time seemed to stand still as he waited, head bowed, eyes closed. If Clark really wanted it to stop here, he didn’t intend to push it. He was confident he could recover, reestablish their friendship on its accustomed plane if Clark really wasn’t ready yet for more. However disappointing it might be.

Clark’s words tumbled over each other as he continued. “Because…I’ve never done this with anyone before. You’re probably used to lots better.”

Lex exhaled at the tender sound of Clark’s voice, thanking every deity in the heavens.

Clark waited for his response, seeming to be preparing himself for rejection. Lex decided at once that at this point, a little firmness on his part was called for. He summoned up his courage to the maximum and pushed Clark gently back on the couch. Clark didn’t resist, just waited.

This was the time to be strong.

Clark opened his mouth to speak and Lex said, “Shh.” With one abrupt motion, he swung a thin leg over Clark’s lap, straddling him. And if he hadn’t been so caught up in the moment, Lex would have chuckled at the way Clark’s eyes widened, at the little gasp that caught in his throat.

He leaned in and teased Clark’s full lips open with his tongue. Felt heat radiating from Clark’s body sufficient to warm the cold fall day and the chill air in the library. As he deepened the kiss, Clark’s body relaxed. Clark’s arms folded around him, drew him closer. Clark was kissing him back.

Ah, success.

Lex sat back and straightened up. Time to let Clark show a little initiative.

And he wasn’t disappointed.

Clark’s fingers were fumbling with the snap and zipper of his jeans. “Am I supposed to---“
Lex put his palm over Clark’s and nudged Clark’s hand aside. God, he’d waited for this.

Lex reached into the slit of Clark’s green boxers and grasped. A slow thrill at the damp strength and muscle, the girth it was to be his privilege to enjoy. And felt his own tongue glide over his lips in anticipation, his mouth filling with water. So this was proving to be as much for himself as for Clark. He just couldn’t break old habits of self interest that fast. He bent down as Clark tensed again and waited breathlessly, but didn’t stir.

First he buried his face in the thatch of hair, damp, dark and curling around the base of the shaft and nuzzled around Clark’s balls, enjoying the heady, musky scent. He licked, kneading a still-clothed thigh, smiling at Clark's little squeak as he did so. He sat back, then moved a hand up and let a thumb glide over the dusky, moist head that peeked from the foreskin, smearing the beads of precome that clung to his finger. He stroked back in the opposite direction, yearning to taste, but wanting to delay just a moment more.

Ah, what the hell.

He leaned in again, blew a soft breath, teased the thin membrane back with the tip of his tongue. Pushed it back, then up again, glanced up to meet Clark’s mesmerized, startled gaze with a small, secret grin. Pulled back to licked at the head like a cat tasting cream, little licks, very delicate. And heard the rumble in Clark’s chest above him escape in a moan and trail off into a needy whimper.

“Please,” Clark begged in a raw whisper.

“Of course,” Lex murmured.

Wrapped both palms around the shaft, opened his mouth wider than he usually had to, and went down not quite far enough to gag himself. He felt Clark slide down a little in his seat, saw those big hands curl into fists on either side.

Just in case he’d pushed it too far, too fast, there was only one thing to do. Make it extra good.

And hopefully he’d time it right, upstroke and downstroke. He had to see what that beautiful face looked like in the ecstasy of orgasm. Christ, he’d yearned for that sight almost from the moment they’d met.

But for now, he’d just savor what he was given. And the blessed stretch of his mouth, muscle and skin, overfull. The taste, the sensation of Clark ripe and heavy on his tongue. Then starting to thrust, short and sharp, and panting to match each motion.

“Oh, yeah,” Lex heard the sultry murmur above him. Damn, where had virginal Clark learned to talk like that? Porn films at Pete’s? Or maybe it just came naturally with the right…stimulation.

He increased the speed and strength of his sucking. And within moments had Clark trembling, gripping the arms of the chair so hard that Lex was sure he’d leave impressions in the leather. Like he cared.

When Clark went rigid in his mouth, he nearly saw stars himself. He pulled back just far enough to taste the creamy jets of thick liquid that filled his mouth, forfeiting a better view of Clark’s face. But when he reluctantly released him and glanced up, he saw enough to satisfy him: Clark, face flushed, eyes squeezed tight shut, panting heavily. Lex was quite sure the experience had been positive. Still kneeling, he lay down beside Clark without moving, eyes closed, until he felt Clark’s breathing slow and the hesitant brush of Clark’s palm on his bare head.

“Better?” Lex asked easily. An even deeper blush rose up Clark’s neck to his cheeks and Lex suppressed a chuckle as Clark gazed dumbly at him for a moment, then bent to zip himself up with trembling fingers.

Lex had no trouble reading that look. Clark wanted to be angry, to go all virtuous on him, but he couldn’t. It had been too good for that.

“Problem?”

“No…uh. I…uh…I have to go,” Clark said. He stood up and smoothed his hands down his jeans, his legs before reaching for his jacket. “You won’t tell anyone about this,” Clark begged. “Lex, please. If my Dad found out.”

“Don’t worry. This is just between us. Now go. Good luck at school. You’ve already gotten an “A” from me, by the way. In extracurriculars.”

Clark smiled with what seemed like relief. “That’s lame, Lex.”

“Good sex generally affects my sense of humor.”

Clark looked just a little bit proud before a shadow darkened his gaze. “So what does this mean?” he wondered.

“Everything, or nothing. You can still date Lana.” Lex looked off, sipping his juice, reluctantly washing the taste of Clark from his mouth.

“We’re not dating, Lex.”

"Oh, yeah, Whitney.” Another shrug.

Clark was looking at him with an expression Lex had never seen on him before. Satisfied, possessive, alight with new knowledge and appetite. As though he’d liked what had happened and he wanted more of it.

Lex had been quite confident he’d feel that way.

Clark’s next words proved him correct. He was nearly out the door when he came back reached down with his big hands to cup Lex’’s head, leaned down and kissed him. Lex very nearly lost himself at that point.

“Besides, who needs Lana, anyway.” He kissed him again, the same way Lex had kissed him Can I come back tonight?”

Lex shrugged and nodded. “I’ll be here after a dinner meeting in Metropolis. Late.”
Give him something to look forward to on the trip home. "Wait for me?”

“I’ll be here.”

And with one last grin, Clark was gone.

Lex dropped to the couch again when he was alone. He stroked his smooth chin and considered.

What a pleasant surprise. This morning investment was paying some unexpected dividends, beyond casual amusement. He’d have to give it another try: persuading Clark’s parents to accept that money, because, God, he had to make sure this boy had a good life.

And because he took care of what was his.

Of course he’ll be back, Lex told himself. After what just happened, he won’t be able to stay away.

He poured one last glass of juice, washing the taste of Clark from his mouth with reluctance, and glanced at his watch.

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