L&C Do Europe part 16
8/3/05 12:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyHere *finally,* is the next part of L&C Do Europe.
I know I took way too long but boy, this was tough to write. I came smack up against the wall of WTF. But, I think at last I’m back on track. At least the boys are headed in the direction I wanted them to go. Kind of.
At any rate, here are the previous parts, trying to hook up with a group of Amazon chanters that strangely appeared one evening in the back yard. Run Amazon chanters, run!
Clark grit his teeth and followed the guy—Paul out of the club and into a side street lined with a series of unlit archways. People laughed and moved in the shadows, but Clark didn’t look. He could still hear the music, still feel the vibration—his throat hurt. His hands were shaking. Paul smiled and asked him if he was cold.
“N-no…” his voice shook and he tried to grin.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s going to be out in a minute. Your boyfriend,” he continued at Clark’s questioning look. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? I saw the way he was looking at me. You didn’t like that, did you? So now what, sport?” Paul smirked at him and hooked a finger in Clark’s collar.
“Oh! Oh-he’s not—I mean we’re not—he’s not my boyfriend,” Clark stuttered and blushed and tried to back up and suddenly rough stone was against his back, and the odd thought that it was still warm from the day slid through his mind. His hands fell backward and scrabbled at the stone.oops—crap He quickly opened his fingers, wiped them against the wall and hoped that the guy didn’t notice the bits of stone hitting the street.
Paul grinned. “Oh, yeah? Even better.” He looked Clark up and down. “You don’t seem as sure as when you where inside, what, are you a tease? You’re not a tease, are you, Clark?” Paul slid his hand up Clark’s inseam until it rested over his crotch. Clark managed to keep from slamming his legs together, and maybe breaking the guys hand and Paul tightened his grip. Clark felt a blush rise up like a wave of fire.
Clark stammered, “I’m not a tease, I’m—I’m… never…anything. Yet.” The guy’s hand was hot, and felt pretty good and he couldn’t help relaxing against his palm a little.
Paul eyes flared and he chuckled. “You’re kidding right? No fucking way….” He leaned in closer and licked the sweat on Clark’s neck and made him gasp. “Virgin,” he drew the word out, and the way he said it, made it sound vaguely unclean, made Clark cringe.
With one finger, Paul outlined the shape of Clark’s erection through the thin slacks Lex had bought him, wrapped as much of his hand as he could around it and slowly jacked him through the material. Clark closed his eyes and whimpered. His penis jerked and he could feel a warm spot under the guys thumb.
“Wait, wait, stop, okay? I don’t think—I don’t want my friend to see….”
“What—I thought he wasn’t anyone to you. Besides wouldn’t he have been here by now if he gave a shit?”
Clark made a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. “He can be pretty stubborn…please, I think you should stop.”
Paul laughed and fumbled for Clark’s zipper. “Nah, I don’t think so. You just relax and let me handle it, okay? Just be quiet and relax.” He slid his mouth down the thin cotton shirt Clark wore and bit his nipple. Clark’s gasp of shock was muffled by the guy’s hand across his mouth and fingers slipped into the waistband of his pants at the same moment, touched the head of his penis and he jumped again, shook his head no. The guy laughed and leaned all his weight against Clark, his arm pressed into his chest and pinning him, hand pressing his lips hard against his teeth—if he’d been human, he would have been in trouble. Clark felt a wave of fury so deep it made him woozy—the hell with worrying about hurting this jerk—he was going to break his fucking arm.
He took a deep breath, and put his hands between them, his muscles bunched in preparation for knocking this guy off of him—and suddenly he wasn’t there any more.
Paul let go—was pulled, he flew back against the wall opposite them and Lex was in front of him, and he looked angry—no, furious—no, psychotic. He yelled, “I’m gonna kill that son-of-a-bitch!”
Clark gaped.
Lex had gone insane.
Cool!
The son-of-a-bitch in question was scrabbling along the ground, trying to get to his feet and Clark quickly grabbed Lex into a bear hug and held him back so Paul could take off. It was obvious Lex had every intention of beating the guy into a paste and as much as he would have enjoyed it, Clark couldn’t let Lex do that.
Clark let Lex pull himself out of his grip. He gestured somewhat in his direction while pointedly looking away. “Get yourself together--you’re going home. Right now.”
The euphoria of being ‘rescued’ by Lex evaporated and Clark snapped at him, “Oh, so you just came to make sure I was still Smallville’s oldest living virgin? You know what? Fu--*fuck* you and your promise to my folks and–and-- *fuck* you for not paying attention when you pay attention to everything else and fuck you for—mmmph!”
Lex grabbed a thick fistful of hair and pulled him close, kissed him so hard he worried about teeth cutting into Lex’s lip, and stepped back as suddenly as he’d stepped into the kiss. Clark staggered forward a step or two into the Lex-less space.
Wait! Come back! Kiss me some more!
Lex was red-faced and looked like he was about to explode, Clark shivered and asked, “You…you want me to go home? Home home? Or here home… how--where? What do you want?”
It took Lex a moment to pull himself together—he looked confused as he tried to process what Clark was babbling. “What?” He pulled shaky hands over his sweaty scalp. “Home-home? What are you talking about? No—no never mind.” He went on, as if he were talking to himself, “What do I want? I want—I don’t know. I don’t know what I want.”
“But- you want what I want, Lex! You want me, I want you!” Clark wondered if one good shake would jumpstart Lex’s brain, not enough to make his eyeballs rattle—just a little shake….
Lex threw his hands up in the air. “No you don’t, you just think you do, maybe you’re gay, maybe you just think you are because you have a crush and when you’re back home you’re going to realize it was just proximity and you’ll regret it.”
Clark looked at Lex and waves of anger swept him. “Do you really think anything you just said made any damn sense at all? How can you be so stupid? Do you *like* feeling sorry for yourself?”
“Clark—Clark—shit.” Lex pulled out his phone and spoke rapid Italian into it. Snapped it shut and grabbed Clark’s arm. “We’re going home now.”
Neither one of them spoke again until they were in the cab.
“Clark, that jerk,” Lex said kindly. “You know that you weren’t at fault right? That guy was a scumbag—and you can’t always tell who’s going to be all right and who’s going to be…well, not all right—trust me, I know…”
“All I want to know right now is how you feel about me—the truth. Is that so hard?”
"I love you Clark. I love you like--”
“If you say a brother, I’ll kill you. I swear. I don’t love you like a brother, Lex—I want you, I want whatever everyone else gets from you. I want to kiss you and touch you and feel you--”
“Clark! Stop! Just shut the fuck up!” Lex dropped his head back against the seat and Clark fought not to scream in frustration. He turned his head, took deep breaths and stared out the window.
“Okay. Shutting up. Sorry.”
******
Lex sighed.
That didn’t sound good. He watched Clark ice over and he couldn’t speak, he didn’t know what he could say to make this better.
He had well and truly fucked up.
******
Once in the apartment, Clark headed straight for his bedroom and Lex felt an echo of nights in France.
He looked at the closed door and chewed on his lip as he thought. Clark had been trying to tell him for a while how he felt-- he’d just ignored it. No, to be honest, he'd been trying not to see it. But here it was, like the polar bear you weren’t supposed to think of, lurking in the corners of his mind…Clark wanted him like he wanted Clark and what in the hell was *wrong* with him? Wasn’t that his dream, that one day Clark would look up and say, ‘hey, there you are, I’ve been waiting for you.’ Hadn’t he thought of it and thought of it until he was almost sick sometimes with wanting him?
But if he had him, if it was out in the open, what if he screwed up, what if he ruined what they had already? He’d rather watch Clark from a distance and ache with not ever having all of him, than lose what he had already.
Lex grimaced and his hands balled into fists at his side. No one had to tell him that sort of logic was insane and self-defeating. Dear me, what an enormous ass-hole you are. Love, me.
Clark’s bedroom door opened and he stood there, glaring at Lex. “Don’t think you’re off the hook. I have no idea what kind of stupid way you’re justifying your actions but we’re having this out in the morning--when maybe your brain is actually functioning.”
He slammed the door shut and Lex stood in the small hallway—and laughed. It bubbled up and squeaked out between fingers he’d clamped over his mouth.
I feel like…Cary Grant, or Katherine Hepburn—I *am* going insane, I fucked it all up and now I’m laughing and *shit* this is so not good….
******
No, it really hadn’t been good. It was truly amazing how hard and how fast he’d messed up last night, Lex thought as he shut the water off and the pageant of his fuck-ups stopped with the shower.
He blew it, he screwed the pooch or the poodle or whatever the heck it was losers screwed. He’d crushed Clark, he’d ruined any chance he had with him, pissed Emilio off beyond compare and honestly, he wanted to punch the crap out of *himself*.
He twisted a towel around his waist and walked out to his bedroom. Maybe with any luck he’d slip and bash his brains out on the marble.
He flung the towel on the chair in the corner and turned towards his closet.
“Uh—hi, Lex.”
Lex spun about and yelped. “Clark! What are you--" okay we're naked in front of Clark and our towel's across the room. Perfect. Lex clasped his hands over his crotch.
“I wanted to talk but you were in the shower, and I got tired. So I laid down on your bed and I fell asleep again. And your bed is softer than mine and warm…”
Lex suppressed a wild urge to ask him if he’d eaten his porridge too, and suddenly the reality of the situation hit him. Clark.
In his bed.
Clark’s hair was wild and listed to one side, his eyes were still sleep heavy and his mouth was a little swollen, a little crust was in one turned up corner of his sleepy grin and the sheets were tangled under his chin and he was completely beautiful.
Lex found himself drawn towards the bed like a moth to flame. Clark’s eyes were on him like a physical weight, and he could feel himself stirring behind his hands.
He yawned and stretched, and said, “Lex. I’m going to talk to you until you understand. There’s nothing temporary about this—I don’t want you to be “what I did on my summer vacation.” He sat up in the bed and the sheet slithered down to his hips and Lex could swear Clark had nothing on. “I love you, and I’m gonna keep saying it until you hear me, you stubborn bozo.” He moved and Lex could see that, right—he had nothing on. Clark.
In his bed.
Bare.
“You can’t make me shut up until I’ve told you everything.” Clark raised an eyebrow in a look he copied from Lex, and looked as determined as possible, but his cheeks were red, and the blush went from his face down his neck…how far?
“Talk. Yes, talk, we have to talk…” Creak. Crack. The splintering of glaciers. The shifting of tectonic plates. The collapse of vast continents into the oceans. All pale imitations of the sound of Luthor resolve breaking, crumbling, disintegrating into nothing…he climbed on the bed and said, “I think I can. Make you shut up, I mean,” and kissed Clark. The right way.
Oh.
My
God. Clark.
Oh my god, Clark.
“Clark, don’t,” when a tentative touch fluttered over his dick. He jerked when Clark huffed and wrapped his hand around him and said gravely, “Don’t say ‘don’t’ again. Say ‘more’.”
He stroked a little more confidently and Lex groaned into his mouth, against his neck and said “More. Oh. More.”
Clark shivered. He stroked a little more firmly, a little more confidently and Lex shook and groaned to show his appreciation. “Clark—Clark—oh god, oh yes, oh more…” He pushed himself into Clark’s fist and groaned and babbled. Told him how much he wanted it and how long he’d wanted it and the touch of his hand was like a dream….
Clark suddenly stopped. Lex moaned, “No, no—not yet,” and Clark shook his head, staring open mouthed at his hand curved about Lex’s dick. He made a startled sound and dropped back onto the bed, eyes shut tight as he cried out, and his body arched as he came. Lex looked down at him in awe. “God, Clark, I didn’t even touch you yet…” Clark jerked and moaned out his name, and spurted again.
He blushed a brilliant red and grabbed a bed pillow, crushed it over his face. “I’m such a—I’m sorry, it caught me by surprise!” his chest was heaving; Lex could hear him gasping even with the pillow nearly smothering him.
“No, no, Clark, seriously, that was amazing, so…hot!” Lex twitched--it was, it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, Clark was beautiful, unbelievable, and so sexy this way, naked and sweating and …he ran his fingers through the come on Clark’s belly, wet his dick with it, and reached for Clark’s hand. “Hold my hand, I want to do this together,” he gasped and Clark helped him, let Lex guide him; teach him how he liked it. Lex could barely control himself, Clark watched him so intently, so seriously, every sound he made brought a look of wonder to Clark’s face and it made Lex more and more aroused. When Lex tipped over into orgasm, it shook him like it hadn’t in years, he cried out when he came, spilling over Clark’s hand, his hand, and Clark whispered his name, holding his hand gently, this time when he came his eyes were open and he was looking into Lex’s.
TBC in part 17
I know I took way too long but boy, this was tough to write. I came smack up against the wall of WTF. But, I think at last I’m back on track. At least the boys are headed in the direction I wanted them to go. Kind of.
At any rate, here are the previous parts, trying to hook up with a group of Amazon chanters that strangely appeared one evening in the back yard. Run Amazon chanters, run!
Clark grit his teeth and followed the guy—Paul out of the club and into a side street lined with a series of unlit archways. People laughed and moved in the shadows, but Clark didn’t look. He could still hear the music, still feel the vibration—his throat hurt. His hands were shaking. Paul smiled and asked him if he was cold.
“N-no…” his voice shook and he tried to grin.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s going to be out in a minute. Your boyfriend,” he continued at Clark’s questioning look. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? I saw the way he was looking at me. You didn’t like that, did you? So now what, sport?” Paul smirked at him and hooked a finger in Clark’s collar.
“Oh! Oh-he’s not—I mean we’re not—he’s not my boyfriend,” Clark stuttered and blushed and tried to back up and suddenly rough stone was against his back, and the odd thought that it was still warm from the day slid through his mind. His hands fell backward and scrabbled at the stone.oops—crap He quickly opened his fingers, wiped them against the wall and hoped that the guy didn’t notice the bits of stone hitting the street.
Paul grinned. “Oh, yeah? Even better.” He looked Clark up and down. “You don’t seem as sure as when you where inside, what, are you a tease? You’re not a tease, are you, Clark?” Paul slid his hand up Clark’s inseam until it rested over his crotch. Clark managed to keep from slamming his legs together, and maybe breaking the guys hand and Paul tightened his grip. Clark felt a blush rise up like a wave of fire.
Clark stammered, “I’m not a tease, I’m—I’m… never…anything. Yet.” The guy’s hand was hot, and felt pretty good and he couldn’t help relaxing against his palm a little.
Paul eyes flared and he chuckled. “You’re kidding right? No fucking way….” He leaned in closer and licked the sweat on Clark’s neck and made him gasp. “Virgin,” he drew the word out, and the way he said it, made it sound vaguely unclean, made Clark cringe.
With one finger, Paul outlined the shape of Clark’s erection through the thin slacks Lex had bought him, wrapped as much of his hand as he could around it and slowly jacked him through the material. Clark closed his eyes and whimpered. His penis jerked and he could feel a warm spot under the guys thumb.
“Wait, wait, stop, okay? I don’t think—I don’t want my friend to see….”
“What—I thought he wasn’t anyone to you. Besides wouldn’t he have been here by now if he gave a shit?”
Clark made a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. “He can be pretty stubborn…please, I think you should stop.”
Paul laughed and fumbled for Clark’s zipper. “Nah, I don’t think so. You just relax and let me handle it, okay? Just be quiet and relax.” He slid his mouth down the thin cotton shirt Clark wore and bit his nipple. Clark’s gasp of shock was muffled by the guy’s hand across his mouth and fingers slipped into the waistband of his pants at the same moment, touched the head of his penis and he jumped again, shook his head no. The guy laughed and leaned all his weight against Clark, his arm pressed into his chest and pinning him, hand pressing his lips hard against his teeth—if he’d been human, he would have been in trouble. Clark felt a wave of fury so deep it made him woozy—the hell with worrying about hurting this jerk—he was going to break his fucking arm.
He took a deep breath, and put his hands between them, his muscles bunched in preparation for knocking this guy off of him—and suddenly he wasn’t there any more.
Paul let go—was pulled, he flew back against the wall opposite them and Lex was in front of him, and he looked angry—no, furious—no, psychotic. He yelled, “I’m gonna kill that son-of-a-bitch!”
Clark gaped.
Lex had gone insane.
Cool!
The son-of-a-bitch in question was scrabbling along the ground, trying to get to his feet and Clark quickly grabbed Lex into a bear hug and held him back so Paul could take off. It was obvious Lex had every intention of beating the guy into a paste and as much as he would have enjoyed it, Clark couldn’t let Lex do that.
Clark let Lex pull himself out of his grip. He gestured somewhat in his direction while pointedly looking away. “Get yourself together--you’re going home. Right now.”
The euphoria of being ‘rescued’ by Lex evaporated and Clark snapped at him, “Oh, so you just came to make sure I was still Smallville’s oldest living virgin? You know what? Fu--*fuck* you and your promise to my folks and–and-- *fuck* you for not paying attention when you pay attention to everything else and fuck you for—mmmph!”
Lex grabbed a thick fistful of hair and pulled him close, kissed him so hard he worried about teeth cutting into Lex’s lip, and stepped back as suddenly as he’d stepped into the kiss. Clark staggered forward a step or two into the Lex-less space.
Wait! Come back! Kiss me some more!
Lex was red-faced and looked like he was about to explode, Clark shivered and asked, “You…you want me to go home? Home home? Or here home… how--where? What do you want?”
It took Lex a moment to pull himself together—he looked confused as he tried to process what Clark was babbling. “What?” He pulled shaky hands over his sweaty scalp. “Home-home? What are you talking about? No—no never mind.” He went on, as if he were talking to himself, “What do I want? I want—I don’t know. I don’t know what I want.”
“But- you want what I want, Lex! You want me, I want you!” Clark wondered if one good shake would jumpstart Lex’s brain, not enough to make his eyeballs rattle—just a little shake….
Lex threw his hands up in the air. “No you don’t, you just think you do, maybe you’re gay, maybe you just think you are because you have a crush and when you’re back home you’re going to realize it was just proximity and you’ll regret it.”
Clark looked at Lex and waves of anger swept him. “Do you really think anything you just said made any damn sense at all? How can you be so stupid? Do you *like* feeling sorry for yourself?”
“Clark—Clark—shit.” Lex pulled out his phone and spoke rapid Italian into it. Snapped it shut and grabbed Clark’s arm. “We’re going home now.”
Neither one of them spoke again until they were in the cab.
“Clark, that jerk,” Lex said kindly. “You know that you weren’t at fault right? That guy was a scumbag—and you can’t always tell who’s going to be all right and who’s going to be…well, not all right—trust me, I know…”
“All I want to know right now is how you feel about me—the truth. Is that so hard?”
"I love you Clark. I love you like--”
“If you say a brother, I’ll kill you. I swear. I don’t love you like a brother, Lex—I want you, I want whatever everyone else gets from you. I want to kiss you and touch you and feel you--”
“Clark! Stop! Just shut the fuck up!” Lex dropped his head back against the seat and Clark fought not to scream in frustration. He turned his head, took deep breaths and stared out the window.
“Okay. Shutting up. Sorry.”
******
Lex sighed.
That didn’t sound good. He watched Clark ice over and he couldn’t speak, he didn’t know what he could say to make this better.
He had well and truly fucked up.
******
Once in the apartment, Clark headed straight for his bedroom and Lex felt an echo of nights in France.
He looked at the closed door and chewed on his lip as he thought. Clark had been trying to tell him for a while how he felt-- he’d just ignored it. No, to be honest, he'd been trying not to see it. But here it was, like the polar bear you weren’t supposed to think of, lurking in the corners of his mind…Clark wanted him like he wanted Clark and what in the hell was *wrong* with him? Wasn’t that his dream, that one day Clark would look up and say, ‘hey, there you are, I’ve been waiting for you.’ Hadn’t he thought of it and thought of it until he was almost sick sometimes with wanting him?
But if he had him, if it was out in the open, what if he screwed up, what if he ruined what they had already? He’d rather watch Clark from a distance and ache with not ever having all of him, than lose what he had already.
Lex grimaced and his hands balled into fists at his side. No one had to tell him that sort of logic was insane and self-defeating. Dear me, what an enormous ass-hole you are. Love, me.
Clark’s bedroom door opened and he stood there, glaring at Lex. “Don’t think you’re off the hook. I have no idea what kind of stupid way you’re justifying your actions but we’re having this out in the morning--when maybe your brain is actually functioning.”
He slammed the door shut and Lex stood in the small hallway—and laughed. It bubbled up and squeaked out between fingers he’d clamped over his mouth.
I feel like…Cary Grant, or Katherine Hepburn—I *am* going insane, I fucked it all up and now I’m laughing and *shit* this is so not good….
******
No, it really hadn’t been good. It was truly amazing how hard and how fast he’d messed up last night, Lex thought as he shut the water off and the pageant of his fuck-ups stopped with the shower.
He blew it, he screwed the pooch or the poodle or whatever the heck it was losers screwed. He’d crushed Clark, he’d ruined any chance he had with him, pissed Emilio off beyond compare and honestly, he wanted to punch the crap out of *himself*.
He twisted a towel around his waist and walked out to his bedroom. Maybe with any luck he’d slip and bash his brains out on the marble.
He flung the towel on the chair in the corner and turned towards his closet.
“Uh—hi, Lex.”
Lex spun about and yelped. “Clark! What are you--" okay we're naked in front of Clark and our towel's across the room. Perfect. Lex clasped his hands over his crotch.
“I wanted to talk but you were in the shower, and I got tired. So I laid down on your bed and I fell asleep again. And your bed is softer than mine and warm…”
Lex suppressed a wild urge to ask him if he’d eaten his porridge too, and suddenly the reality of the situation hit him. Clark.
In his bed.
Clark’s hair was wild and listed to one side, his eyes were still sleep heavy and his mouth was a little swollen, a little crust was in one turned up corner of his sleepy grin and the sheets were tangled under his chin and he was completely beautiful.
Lex found himself drawn towards the bed like a moth to flame. Clark’s eyes were on him like a physical weight, and he could feel himself stirring behind his hands.
He yawned and stretched, and said, “Lex. I’m going to talk to you until you understand. There’s nothing temporary about this—I don’t want you to be “what I did on my summer vacation.” He sat up in the bed and the sheet slithered down to his hips and Lex could swear Clark had nothing on. “I love you, and I’m gonna keep saying it until you hear me, you stubborn bozo.” He moved and Lex could see that, right—he had nothing on. Clark.
In his bed.
Bare.
“You can’t make me shut up until I’ve told you everything.” Clark raised an eyebrow in a look he copied from Lex, and looked as determined as possible, but his cheeks were red, and the blush went from his face down his neck…how far?
“Talk. Yes, talk, we have to talk…” Creak. Crack. The splintering of glaciers. The shifting of tectonic plates. The collapse of vast continents into the oceans. All pale imitations of the sound of Luthor resolve breaking, crumbling, disintegrating into nothing…he climbed on the bed and said, “I think I can. Make you shut up, I mean,” and kissed Clark. The right way.
Oh.
My
God. Clark.
Oh my god, Clark.
“Clark, don’t,” when a tentative touch fluttered over his dick. He jerked when Clark huffed and wrapped his hand around him and said gravely, “Don’t say ‘don’t’ again. Say ‘more’.”
He stroked a little more confidently and Lex groaned into his mouth, against his neck and said “More. Oh. More.”
Clark shivered. He stroked a little more firmly, a little more confidently and Lex shook and groaned to show his appreciation. “Clark—Clark—oh god, oh yes, oh more…” He pushed himself into Clark’s fist and groaned and babbled. Told him how much he wanted it and how long he’d wanted it and the touch of his hand was like a dream….
Clark suddenly stopped. Lex moaned, “No, no—not yet,” and Clark shook his head, staring open mouthed at his hand curved about Lex’s dick. He made a startled sound and dropped back onto the bed, eyes shut tight as he cried out, and his body arched as he came. Lex looked down at him in awe. “God, Clark, I didn’t even touch you yet…” Clark jerked and moaned out his name, and spurted again.
He blushed a brilliant red and grabbed a bed pillow, crushed it over his face. “I’m such a—I’m sorry, it caught me by surprise!” his chest was heaving; Lex could hear him gasping even with the pillow nearly smothering him.
“No, no, Clark, seriously, that was amazing, so…hot!” Lex twitched--it was, it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, Clark was beautiful, unbelievable, and so sexy this way, naked and sweating and …he ran his fingers through the come on Clark’s belly, wet his dick with it, and reached for Clark’s hand. “Hold my hand, I want to do this together,” he gasped and Clark helped him, let Lex guide him; teach him how he liked it. Lex could barely control himself, Clark watched him so intently, so seriously, every sound he made brought a look of wonder to Clark’s face and it made Lex more and more aroused. When Lex tipped over into orgasm, it shook him like it hadn’t in years, he cried out when he came, spilling over Clark’s hand, his hand, and Clark whispered his name, holding his hand gently, this time when he came his eyes were open and he was looking into Lex’s.
TBC in part 17
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