The Talented Miss Ripley

[roxy]

The Talented Miss Ripley

A post-mpreg fiction
Fandom: SV
Pairing: hmm….
Rating:5/nc-17
what went before



She was in class, idly looking around the room, not really paying attention to the reading, not even pretending to take notes. She’d memorized the books in the first day or two of school, so it was pretty much all review to her. She drew in a deep breath and let it out. Her eyes felt gluey and sticky; she rubbed at them, grinding the lids into her eyes. They’d been feeling like that on and off for a few weeks. Annoying.

She glanced over at Greg in the third row, Greg—who just might be the *perfect* man. She took inventory—eyes so blue they looked like the sky, hair the exact color of gold, and curly in a way that begged to be wrapped around a finger, and so cute the way it lay on his neck and---oh. Oh jeez…all his skin was off.

She managed not to move, or make a sound. Greg’s skin reappeared…and vanished. *And* his muscles, *and* his guts, until nothing was left but his skeleton—and behind him the wall, the sheetrock, the studs, the wiring…it all disappeared—or rather thinned out to the point of transparency. Her classroom was populated with busy skeletons.

She didn’t even need to look around to know that she was the only one catching the show.

Oh well, she thought, a bubble of laughter catching in her throat—Greg’s skeleton was just as fascinating as his outside was. Beautiful inside as well as outside, she thought and this time couldn’t stop the semi-hysterical snicker from breaking loose. When he slowly re-grew organs and muscle and skin, and nothing else, she thought she’d die of embarrassment. She glanced around. Oh my God, everyone’s naked—except me. Laughter bubbled up again, and this time broke loose, sounding like a sob, and she could feel it wanted to just—keep coming…help.

Greg turned and looked at her, a little wrinkle of concern creasing his forehead. Or at least she hoped it was concern. Now he had to notice her, now, when she was losing her mind. Terrific.

She excused herself and sprinted to the girl’s room, locked herself in a stall and called Poppa.

*Alexandra, sweetheart—I’m in a meeting. Is it important?*

“Pop--Pop, something weird just happened! I could see…*everything*.”

*Oh my God* he sighed, *That too?*

She took a moment to think what kind of family she had, that she didn’t need to explain what she meant by everything.

You’ll have to call your dad, Lexie.*

“No! It’s stupid—I’m fine, Pop, I don’t need to bother him, it’s just—whoa.” She staggered into the wall as her vision went wonky again. “Oh crap.”

*Alexandra, it’s not stupid, and he won’t mind. He can teach you how to live with it, how to use it.*

“But I don’t need to have him teach me. He didn’t have anyone teach him, and he did just fine.”

*He hurt for a long time, sweetheart. Do you think he’d want that for you?*

“No, no, I guess not. Okay, I’ll call tonight.”

*Good, thank you, Lexie. Do you want me to come pick you up?*

“No, thanks, Pop. Love you.” He told her he loved her too and she hung up. Fuck.

Her jaw suddenly dropped, and if life were like a cartoon, a light bulb would have lit up over her head.

What the hell was she thinking! She slapped her forehead. Duh! They’d have to work together now! Finally—she had a cunning plan. And this one should work, with a minimum of blood loss. At least, she was fairly certain about that.

She pumped a fist in the air, and caught sight of herself in the mirrors over the sinks.
God—Dad’s genes…why did they have to assert themselves at the worst times?

******
She strolled into the entertainment room, clutching the phone. She dialed, waited.

“Dad—Poppa wants to talk to you.” She thrust the phone into Lex’s hand. “Dad,” she said and moved out of reach. Lex looked shocked and then angry, and then…nervous. Rip looked on in interest. She’d never seen Poppa look nervous before and it was an odd look on him.

“Ah, Clark. Happy to hear you sounding so…chipper.” He glared at Ripley, and mouthed, So. Much. Trouble. “Lexie needs your help—no, no—she’s fine, she’s just…getting to an age where she needs your help. you know.” He glared at Riley, and she took off for her room. She knew when she’d stepped over the invisible line. Plus, there was no need for Pop to see her giggling….

“She’s developing new abilities, and I think she needs your experience and expertise.” Lex continued, “I called to ask…would you mind trading months with me--” Lex stopped, took a breath and said, "Or come stay here. Yes, I said come here. Clark…are you all right? You sound a little out of breath.” Red spots burned on each cheek, but he said carefully, “Thanks Clark. I’ll see you Friday then.” He cradled the phone against his cheek.

******
Heat. Thick and clinging, sweat dripping, sheets wet and hot…he loved it. He loved fucking in the heat, wrapped up in smell and touch and taste and he loved the first push in, that feeling of his cock being sucked into a greedy ass, he loved that it was hot, and slick, the way the walls clung to every inch of his cock. He loved feeling it give, so soft, so smooth…he slid in deeper and groaned. “Yeah.”

He held his lip tight between his teeth and pulled partway out, stared down at his cock, pumped his hips so he could watch it sink in and out of…what’shis name’s ass…fuck, what *was* his name…God, sex makes you stupid. He pulled back until the tip just barely nudged the relaxed ring of muscle, then, one hard push and he was all the way in, his balls slapping against—*Chris*—that was his name!—Chris’ ass. He grinned in satisfaction, jumped when the phone rang. “Fuck.”

“So answer it, I’ll wait. Better yet, don’t stop.”

“Kinky,” Clark grinned. “Nice.” He grabbed the phone and struggled to sound casual, and kept fucking. He rocked his hips, heard, “Clark?”

Clark froze. Oh shit--Lex. He closed his eyes and electricity fizzed along every nerve. He felt his cock jump. Whats’his name groaned and Clark shoved his head into the pillows.

“Oh, hi there, Lex! What’s up?” Oooh God….

*Clark. Happy to hear you sounding so…chipper. *

“Yeah, well, everyone’s happy sometime, right?” He bit viciously at his cheek, Chris was squeezing him and he could barely stop the groan that threatened to break out.

*Lexie needs help* and his cock wilted at once. “What? What’s wrong with her?” He started to slide out, ready to kick whazname out.

* she’s fine, she’s just…* Lex went on to explain that Rip needed help handling newly appearing powers and did he mind coming to stay….

“Come,” Clark gasped and shivered, and his cock was impossibly hard again. Come “…stay with you?” He managed, sounding a little strangled. He thrust harder, and Chris started moaning like a bitch in heat. Clark stopped himself—just--from smothering him. After all, Lex was his ex—it wasn't like he was doing anything wrong.

*are you all right? You sound a little out of breath.*

“Oh, hah…” Another squeeze and his cock throbbed and his voice throbbed along with it--he took a deep breath and ground out, “Oh, I’m fine. I’d love to,” and he tried to keep his voice steady, “come stay with you guys.”

*Thanks, Clark. I’ll see you Friday then.*

The phone went silent, and Clark flung it away, threw his head back, grabbed Chris’ hips and pounded into him, teeth bared, eyes tightly closed and in his mind, he was writhing on pale lavender sheets, and Lex was in him, fucking him without mercy.

******
Lex hung up thoughtfully. Had Clark been in bed? With someone…while he was talking to him? No, no, of course not--but he sounded like....

Lex licked his lips, and snugged his palm against his crotch. Oh. He rose quickly from the couch, and tried not to run into the bedroom.

He was naked in a flash, not even bothering to put up his clothing the way he usually did (and certainly not a ritualistic way as his ex and his daughter insisted.) He hesitated, and locked his bedroom door.

In his closet, nestled between the shirt drawers, was a small locked drawer and he went to it, unlocked it and pulled out a flannel shirt, so worn it was nearly colorless. He slid his arms into the too long sleeves, and closed his eyes. Inhaled. There really wasn’t any scent left, not besides that provided by his mind, but…his dick rose, so hard it rubbed against his belly, and he let his mind rove through his precious store of memories….

an afternoon in summer, heat making the air shimmer, dust motes floating, glinting like gold dust in the late afternoon sunlight pouring through the open loft doors, warming the wooden floors, making the air smell of dust and cedar, skin…the drone of bees making a sleepy back drop of sound, and the only other sound, a breath, a sharp inhale, a groan…a horse blanket ruched up and scratchy under his knees and Clark, eyes wide, lips parted, big hands splayed against the back of his quivering knees, holding himself open for Lex, grunting with each push…his dick slapping against his belly….

Lex came quickly, head back and thumping gently against the closet wall, his own knees shaking and Clark’s name quiet as a breath on his lips.

God. He hoped that inviting Clark to stay hadn’t been a mistake.

His greatest failure was never being able to learn how to stop loving Clark, the way Clark had learned to stop loving him.

TBC

Comments

[roxymissrose.livejournal.com]

Hi! *waves all wild* I'm so glad you decided to delurk! And thank you--I was beginning to get a complex about Clark--even when I don't agree with my boys, I love them, and that goes for both of them, definitely!

I'm so happy Ripley seems to have struck a chord with people, OC's are fun, but dangerous--it's great fun (and a great relief!) when folks take a liking to them!
Can't wait to see what happens when Clark moves in with Lexie and Poppa!
Ah! me either! *grin*