SV fic post

8/3/06 05:26 pm
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[personal profile] roxy
Title: Down The Shore
Fandom: SV
Rating:pg-13
Word count: 10409
A/N: This is sort of a Staff story, but not quite. It’s longer than the usual Staff ficlet. Also, I blame the idea for this on ya’ll. So you have only yourselves to blame. Clark and Lex go to shore.




“We’re going to where?”

“The beach, Clark—we’re going to spend the day at the beach. Here, you hold the cooler; I’ll carry the basket.”

“Umm…Lex—Kansas? Serious lack of beach going on…”

“Lex looked at Clark sadly. *Beauty does make up for a lot, doesn’t it? * “Clark, love of my life—I know that.”

“Er-hem.” Henri stood in the doorway, perfect peaked cap sitting on black curls, a sharp new uniform hugging his frame, and he and Clark exchanged nearly identical green-eyed glares, mostly for old times sake. Henri carefully avoided Lex, and Lex carefully avoided Henri, except for where, of course, circumstances forced them together—say, when Lex needed to be driven somewhere. Barring outside influences (possession, meteorite poisoning, magic) there was no longer canoodling. Or sex.

“Are you and Big Gia—Mr. Clark ready…Sir?” Henri managed a certain…tone…on ‘sir’, and Lex blushed faintly and Clark glowered and focused on a spot right below the third brass button on Henri's coat, until Lex slapped him in back of the head.

“Yes. To the airport, please.”

“Airport?” Clark asked, rubbing his head. Not that is really hurt. Much.

“Cleared with your doting parents already—come along Clark.” He headed out the door, wicker basket in hand and Henri and he dropped back a little to watch Lex walk….

Clark muttered, “He can’t see me from behind, you know--anything could…catch fire….”

Henri scuttled to catch up with Lex.

*****

At the airport, they were shown to Lex’s private jet, greeted by Lex’s private pilot.
Clark growled the whole time, as Lex rapidly explained, in perfect Italian, that no, sadly, he was no longer available for mid-flight—umm—digressions, that the enormous young man was Clark, his significant—his only--exclusive—maste—what?

After glaring at Clark, Lex allowed the in-flight staff to settle them in, and a very depressed Tommaso prepared to fly them to California.

“So, Clark…would you like a cool beverage, I can have it thrown on your lap, if you like?”

“Lex, is there any member of your staff you *haven’t* fucked?” Clark hissed.

“Of course! I’m not a slut.”

“Sarah and Sophia don’t count!”

“Oh. Well, in that case…”

It was a quiet flight, and a quiet ride to the beach, but eventually, under the glow of the California sun, Clark’s sunny nature reasserted itself.

Lex managed to stun Clark completely by being quite good at volleyball, and equally good at protecting Clark from tall, tan, and interestingly jiggly blondes. He spent large amounts of time massaging oil into Clark’s skin, regardless of the fact that Clark was invulnerable, because it was better to be safe than sorry. Clark agreed, but pointed out that there would be no turning onto his back now, thanks much.

Lex mused aloud that not having arranged to rent a private beach had been a fatal flaw in his plan and giving up his former plan of world domination had probably been a good idea…. Clark tsked in sympathy and pointed out that there was a cove up ahead that was secluded and unoccupied…care to chance it?

Lex beamed, and Clark demonstrated super-speed, but only so far as getting them to the secluded spot.

*****
Wet trunks wrapped around his ankles, and Lex’s lips wrapped around his cock made for a lovely afternoon, he thought. Watching that pink agile tongue glide along the length of him, writing little circles over the skin, teasing pre-come from the slit, little cat lick after little cat lick urging him stand on his tiptoes and beg, slick wet lips sucking him down inch by inch, fingers tickling him, prodding and sliding into interesting places and Clark thanked God Lex wasn’t truly evil or the world wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell… “Lex—*please*!”

Lex chuckled, making his toes curl, and then, proceeded to give new meaning to the phrase ‘deep throat’. Clark yelled, and came so hard, he swore the rock behind him crumbled when he flexed his fingers.

After, he held Lex in the air above him, his cock mouth level, and returned the favor. Lex protested at the treatment until Clark showed him what having the ability to vibrate one’s tongue really, really fast and not need to breathe for a long time, could mean.

******

“Clark, we really don’t have to hold hands you know…”

“Lex, just shut and enjoy it. No one knows who we are, we’re just two ordinary guys on a beach, strolling…”

“…and holding hands.”

“You’re walking funny.”

“…that’s because I have *sand*—sand in *bad* places.”

“See? That’s why I held you in the air. You wouldn’t have sand in bad places if you hadn’t kicked me in the back of the head—you’re beginning to give my skull a complex,” he said, slightly reproachfully.

“It was undignified! Holding me like—like--a cranky kitten…”

Clark beamed at the image. “Cute—but I notice you didn’t protest until after you came.”

“Clark!”

“Shh,” Clark said, and patted Lex’s hand.

Up ahead, a group of teenagers were lounging on the sand, a tall guy and a petite blonde were tossing a football back and forth.

“Hey, look! We should have brought a football too. You’re supposed to do that at the beach,” he said, with great conviction. He’d seen it on television, hot guys tossing the ball around in the sand. He had a hot guy, now all he needed was a football. He smiled down at Lex.

“Football! Why,” Lex snorted, “so you can add to my list of ‘I Got A Concussion At…’?”

“Lex! You know I have better control than that.”

“Tell Mr. Crumbly Rock that.”

“That’s completely different and you know it, I’d never—whoa…. Did she just knock him off his feet with the ball…”

They watched as the muscular, sand covered boy staggered back to his feet, holding a deflated football.

“Wow. She must have some arm, tiny as she is.”

Lex tilted his head. “It did seem rather a hard throw.” He narrowed his eyes at Clark. “But I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation…defective ball--clumsy boy….”

Clark blushed. “All right, all right—gosh, can we not do this again?”

Lex smiled slightly and watched the boy wobble back to his group. “Poor kid. Look at him. Just...look at him. My.”

“Oh my God--Lex! Put your tongue back in your head. Geez. I can tell he’s a jerk from here!”

“He’s...well. Um.”

Clark stamped further up the beach, and Lex had to run to catch up with him.

As they passed, the little group was trying to start a fire, and Clark watched the other guy, a really nicely built dark haired guy that Clark refused to acknowledge was hot, try to set some logs alight. They were nearly past when he heard the petite redhead say something strange and suddenly, with a muffled roar—fire!

Clark was as startled as the dark haired kid—flames shot out of the pit, as if from nowhere, and if there was anything he was expert at, it was flames suddenly shooting out of—nowhere, sort of. Really though—it was as if the little red-haired girl made the fire just—appear—and that was silly. Wasn’t it?

Lex elbowed him suddenly, and his silky skin rubbing over his ribs derailed his train of thought. He pointed up at the rapidly darkening sky and said, “Clark—I think our day at the beach is--” torrential rain slapped down on them out of the heavens, “--over.”

Clark looked at him through a curtain of streaming wet hair; and grinned. The only thing rain was able to cling to on Lex were his eyelashes and geez…he wanted to lick those drops. Lick all the water off, all over… “I love you Lex,” he said. “And if I haven’t told you yet, thank you.”

Lex smiled, and said, “I love you too, Clark—and I’m drowning.”

They raced up the beach, back to the shelter of the rocks behind them, and sat snuggled side by side, waiting for the rain to stop.

“I really do, you know.”

“Oh, I know.”

“And I know you really love me.”

“Of course.”

“Did you really think that guy was good looking?”

“Clark.”

“I’m just curious; he looked so—so—cardboard to me.”

“Clark.”

“Just saying…”

“Clark.”

“Oh! Oh.Ooohhhh….”

“That’s better.”

“Evil.”

“Well. I don’t like to brag.”


~Fin~
8-02-2006.
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