(no subject)
9/4/06 12:46 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
The Talented Miss Ripley
A post-mpreg fiction
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating:3 ( for mention of doinkies)
The doors to Lex’s inner office flew open, and Lex looked up in surprise at the sight of Clark standing in his office, his highly agitated secretary behind him and already making excuses for the interruption.
He waved her off. “Shut the door behind you. Clark--this better be good, Wendy isn’t used to having her authority ignored so blatantly.” He went back to sit in his chair and tilted his head at Clark.
“Why aren’t you in Smallville? I thought you needed to decompress after that last trip overseas?” He smiled a little. “I’d planned to join you this weekend. I miss you.”
“Lex.”
Lex felt heat rise in his face—Clark’s voice was…rough and needy, and maybe he’d been mistaken about what was on Clark’s mind--he started to get up, go to him, but Clark was there, Clark’s mouth was over his, and really, it was impossible not to kiss him back, to feel the amazing heat where their lips joined. The wonderful thing about kissing Clark was how hot the inside of his mouth was, how cool it made his own tongue feel and how the contrast turned him on to a ridiculous degree. He never was able to kiss him without making a lot of embarrassing noise—and when Clark started groaning, he remembered why it was a good thing to be so noisy.
He peeked--Clark’s eyes were closed, he felt his breath flood over his chin, and cheek, his head tilted back more and more as he struggled to make the kiss deeper, their tongues slid across each other, touched and rubbed, for a wild minute, all he wanted was to push his fingers into Clark’s mouth just to watch him suck and lick them…
He jerked his head back and gasped, “Oh, shit, you do want something, don’t you?”
Clark laughed and gasped and managed to look outraged all at once. Lex smirked at him. “Don’t even try it. What is it?”
Clark dropped down on the edge of his desk, and folded his arms. “Well, yeah, I do need your help. I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and--”
With a knowing smile, Lex held up his hand, reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a folder. He handed it to Clark and told him, “Open it.”
Clark opened the envelope, and shook out a few sheets of heavy paper. “Lex…this…is a painting of a guy in a really hideous get-up—kind of an ugly, solid black version of Captain America…or maybe a really gay Black Bolt…” He flipped through the sheets, a puzzled frown wrinkling his forehead.
“Give me that!” Lex snatched the drawings out of Clark’s hand. “You obviously have no taste.”
Clark tried to understand exactly what Lex meant by the drawings, and slowly realization dawned… “Oh my god—you think I should be some kind of—comic book hero?"
"No! That’s not what I meant at all. I meant…okay, yes. I meant precisely that. Clark—you have a need to help—I heard that in your voice when you called, the whole conversation revolved around what you didn’t say, but I heard it, you know--everything you didn’t say. I know it nearly kills you *not* to help—but someone has to see that you have a life--for you, and for Alexandra, and for me. I want you to help, and I’m willing to share—but I’m not willing to give up all of you."
Clark listened with open-mouthed wonder. Lex was telling him—Lex was making plans, Lex…his eyes filled and for a moment he thought he was about to cry. Lex looked at him, chin lifted, eyebrow raised, lips pursed in a smirk—the effect entirely spoiled by red eyes and a suspicious quiver in his chin. He quickly coughed and dropped his head, busily shuffling the drawings about on his desk. “Well, I'll just toss these…”
Clark closed his hand over his, “Let’s take these home with us and look over them again, what do you say? I think we might be able to come up with an idea or two.”
Lex kept his eyes on him as he opened the intercom to his outer office and spoke.
“Wendy, cancel the rest of my meetings for today. An emergency has come up and I have to leave the office.”
Clark smiled and leaned over to kiss and nibble at Lex’s neck. He hissed, and said, “In fact, see what you can do about shuffling around my appointments for tomorrow, will you? I might be late coming in.”
Clark murmured against his sensitive throat, “…really, really late, a day or two…or three…”
*****
They went back to the silent apartment, and Clark led Lex out to the patio. He left him sitting comfortably on a lounge, and went back inside, leaving a puzzled Lex behind him. When he reappeared at the door, he had a drink in his hand and a jacket.
“Um, nice—I could get used to this Clark,” Lex said as he took the drink, and let Clark help him into the jacket. Clark watched him, watched him drink, and then took the glass from him. Lex smiled. “Are we playing the billionaire and the cabana boy tonight?”
Clark laughed and drew him to his feet. “No. We’re going to play a completely different game—but I’ll keep that one in mind.”
He put his arms around Lex and Lex sighed, deeply content. There was something wonderful about being surrounded by his lover’s warmth, he thought, and the feeling of his broad chest under his spread hand, something wonderful about listening to the slightly faster beat of his heart, so strong, so even…Lex leaned his head on Clark’s shoulder and closed his eyes, inhaled the smell of him, the smell that he never told Clark had nearly the same effect on him that his seemed to have on Clark. He could find Clark in a crowd, just by scent. Wondered idly if he should tell him, wondered when Clark had become such a smooth dancer, he was gliding him around the patio like he was light as a feather….
Clark whispered in his ear, "Lex,” and his arms tightened around him, tight and safe and—“Open your eyes.”
Lex opened his eye, smiled at Clark—and yelled.
“Why does everyone do that?” Clark asked, and drifted closer to the patio floor.
“Clark—oh. My. God. You can fly.”
Clark nodded, his expression worried, maybe a little afraid---Lex said again. “You can fly…” It was unreal, fantastic—unbelievable, and yet they were floating, inches above the patio floor, and Clark was smiling hopefully now.
“How…how high can you go?” Lex asked, and swallowed around the lump in his throat. His heart was beating faster and faster, and…he was getting hard. Great. Just great.
Clark smiled. “Pretty damn high, I think,” he answered and inched up a bit more. He leaned back, as though he were leaning on something solid, instead of—air. Lex shivered a bit when their dicks brushed together—Clark was a little hard too…Lex managed to quell the shiver that wanted to spread through him, he was not about make any movement that might cause Clark to drop him…drop—“You—you won’t drop me will you?”
“Lex!”
“What if you sneeze, or…you get a cramp or…”
“Lex…” Clark’s voice was softer, but still filled with a kind of amused disbelief.
Lex leaned into Clark, the cool night air making his heat even more apparent, and more enveloping. “Clark, this is…I like it…I can’t believe that I’m up in the air without tons of steel around me and I actually like it.”
Clark laughed happily and sped up a bit and Lex clutched him, startled into squeaking in a most embarrassing way.
Clark kissed him, chaste, soft, moved lips over his cheek to his ear and whispered, "Don’t be afraid. I’ll keep you safe, Lex—I’ll never let you go.” He kissed him again and murmured, “I’ll never let you fall.”
Lex closed his eyes and knew that Clark was talking about a million things, like he always did. The key to understanding Clark was to know what he was telling you, no matter what he said.
Clark rolled lazily in the air, and Lex was full length on him, holding on tight. He was certain Clark was sure that he wouldn’t drop him but still….
“Lex, I want to make love to you up here, think how wonderful it would be, oh gosh--I want to suck you, I want you inside me, up here where it belongs to just us…”
Ignoring the throb Clark’s words sent through his dick, he patted him affectionately on the cheek. “Clark—never in our lifetime will I *ever* let you do that. I don’t want to plummet to my death because you want an orgasm.
Clark gave him the look that said, ‘you say no now, but soon… soon….’
“Down Clark—and I mean that literally.”
******
“Seriously—red, and blue? *And* yellow? Are you blind? Or just totally without an ounce of taste?”
“Oh my—I picked you, didn’t I?”
“Clark—one example of good taste in your life doesn’t mean that you can be left alone to make--”
“Dads!”
They turned to look at Ripley, standing in Clark’s studio, her hands on her hips And a disgusted look on her face. “Gosh! Mature people? This is the example you set me? I’m impressionable, you know. This—this is no way to handle a disagreement.”
“Really?” Lex raised an eyebrow. “I suppose you have some way to settle this?”
Clark snickered when Ripley raised an eyebrow right back, so much like Lex…
“Cut cards?”
“What?”
“Draw straws?”
Lex stared at her incredulously “Straws? An important decision like this decided by--” she held out her hand to Clark, two little slivers of wood in it. He reached out to grab a straw, and Lex huffed. “Since when have I lost all control in this house?”
“Since we ganged up on you,” Clark smiled and showed Lex the short straw. “I get to choose, don’t I? Red and blue it is—they’re bright, warm, friendly colors, people will respond positively when they see those colors, not run screaming for cover when I drop out of the sky like—like some giant black bat.”
"Don’t be ridiculous," Lex said. He glared at Clark’s sketch of his color choice—“Friendly…trustworthy...people trust Barney, why don’t you pick purple and green using that logic--”
“For crying out loud-- Lex, first of all that’s nuts…”
Ripley sighed and wandered off to her room, shaking her head. “I wash my hands of the both of you,” she called, and shut her door, and leaned against it, and smiled and smiled until her cheeks ached, her eyes ached.
Her dads loved each other so much. Her heart floated, she was warm and happy, happier than she’d ever, ever felt---she didn’t know that she was an inch or two off the floor….
TBC!
A post-mpreg fiction
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating:3 ( for mention of doinkies)
The doors to Lex’s inner office flew open, and Lex looked up in surprise at the sight of Clark standing in his office, his highly agitated secretary behind him and already making excuses for the interruption.
He waved her off. “Shut the door behind you. Clark--this better be good, Wendy isn’t used to having her authority ignored so blatantly.” He went back to sit in his chair and tilted his head at Clark.
“Why aren’t you in Smallville? I thought you needed to decompress after that last trip overseas?” He smiled a little. “I’d planned to join you this weekend. I miss you.”
“Lex.”
Lex felt heat rise in his face—Clark’s voice was…rough and needy, and maybe he’d been mistaken about what was on Clark’s mind--he started to get up, go to him, but Clark was there, Clark’s mouth was over his, and really, it was impossible not to kiss him back, to feel the amazing heat where their lips joined. The wonderful thing about kissing Clark was how hot the inside of his mouth was, how cool it made his own tongue feel and how the contrast turned him on to a ridiculous degree. He never was able to kiss him without making a lot of embarrassing noise—and when Clark started groaning, he remembered why it was a good thing to be so noisy.
He peeked--Clark’s eyes were closed, he felt his breath flood over his chin, and cheek, his head tilted back more and more as he struggled to make the kiss deeper, their tongues slid across each other, touched and rubbed, for a wild minute, all he wanted was to push his fingers into Clark’s mouth just to watch him suck and lick them…
He jerked his head back and gasped, “Oh, shit, you do want something, don’t you?”
Clark laughed and gasped and managed to look outraged all at once. Lex smirked at him. “Don’t even try it. What is it?”
Clark dropped down on the edge of his desk, and folded his arms. “Well, yeah, I do need your help. I’ve been thinking about this for a while, and--”
With a knowing smile, Lex held up his hand, reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a folder. He handed it to Clark and told him, “Open it.”
Clark opened the envelope, and shook out a few sheets of heavy paper. “Lex…this…is a painting of a guy in a really hideous get-up—kind of an ugly, solid black version of Captain America…or maybe a really gay Black Bolt…” He flipped through the sheets, a puzzled frown wrinkling his forehead.
“Give me that!” Lex snatched the drawings out of Clark’s hand. “You obviously have no taste.”
Clark tried to understand exactly what Lex meant by the drawings, and slowly realization dawned… “Oh my god—you think I should be some kind of—comic book hero?"
"No! That’s not what I meant at all. I meant…okay, yes. I meant precisely that. Clark—you have a need to help—I heard that in your voice when you called, the whole conversation revolved around what you didn’t say, but I heard it, you know--everything you didn’t say. I know it nearly kills you *not* to help—but someone has to see that you have a life--for you, and for Alexandra, and for me. I want you to help, and I’m willing to share—but I’m not willing to give up all of you."
Clark listened with open-mouthed wonder. Lex was telling him—Lex was making plans, Lex…his eyes filled and for a moment he thought he was about to cry. Lex looked at him, chin lifted, eyebrow raised, lips pursed in a smirk—the effect entirely spoiled by red eyes and a suspicious quiver in his chin. He quickly coughed and dropped his head, busily shuffling the drawings about on his desk. “Well, I'll just toss these…”
Clark closed his hand over his, “Let’s take these home with us and look over them again, what do you say? I think we might be able to come up with an idea or two.”
Lex kept his eyes on him as he opened the intercom to his outer office and spoke.
“Wendy, cancel the rest of my meetings for today. An emergency has come up and I have to leave the office.”
Clark smiled and leaned over to kiss and nibble at Lex’s neck. He hissed, and said, “In fact, see what you can do about shuffling around my appointments for tomorrow, will you? I might be late coming in.”
Clark murmured against his sensitive throat, “…really, really late, a day or two…or three…”
*****
They went back to the silent apartment, and Clark led Lex out to the patio. He left him sitting comfortably on a lounge, and went back inside, leaving a puzzled Lex behind him. When he reappeared at the door, he had a drink in his hand and a jacket.
“Um, nice—I could get used to this Clark,” Lex said as he took the drink, and let Clark help him into the jacket. Clark watched him, watched him drink, and then took the glass from him. Lex smiled. “Are we playing the billionaire and the cabana boy tonight?”
Clark laughed and drew him to his feet. “No. We’re going to play a completely different game—but I’ll keep that one in mind.”
He put his arms around Lex and Lex sighed, deeply content. There was something wonderful about being surrounded by his lover’s warmth, he thought, and the feeling of his broad chest under his spread hand, something wonderful about listening to the slightly faster beat of his heart, so strong, so even…Lex leaned his head on Clark’s shoulder and closed his eyes, inhaled the smell of him, the smell that he never told Clark had nearly the same effect on him that his seemed to have on Clark. He could find Clark in a crowd, just by scent. Wondered idly if he should tell him, wondered when Clark had become such a smooth dancer, he was gliding him around the patio like he was light as a feather….
Clark whispered in his ear, "Lex,” and his arms tightened around him, tight and safe and—“Open your eyes.”
Lex opened his eye, smiled at Clark—and yelled.
“Why does everyone do that?” Clark asked, and drifted closer to the patio floor.
“Clark—oh. My. God. You can fly.”
Clark nodded, his expression worried, maybe a little afraid---Lex said again. “You can fly…” It was unreal, fantastic—unbelievable, and yet they were floating, inches above the patio floor, and Clark was smiling hopefully now.
“How…how high can you go?” Lex asked, and swallowed around the lump in his throat. His heart was beating faster and faster, and…he was getting hard. Great. Just great.
Clark smiled. “Pretty damn high, I think,” he answered and inched up a bit more. He leaned back, as though he were leaning on something solid, instead of—air. Lex shivered a bit when their dicks brushed together—Clark was a little hard too…Lex managed to quell the shiver that wanted to spread through him, he was not about make any movement that might cause Clark to drop him…drop—“You—you won’t drop me will you?”
“Lex!”
“What if you sneeze, or…you get a cramp or…”
“Lex…” Clark’s voice was softer, but still filled with a kind of amused disbelief.
Lex leaned into Clark, the cool night air making his heat even more apparent, and more enveloping. “Clark, this is…I like it…I can’t believe that I’m up in the air without tons of steel around me and I actually like it.”
Clark laughed happily and sped up a bit and Lex clutched him, startled into squeaking in a most embarrassing way.
Clark kissed him, chaste, soft, moved lips over his cheek to his ear and whispered, "Don’t be afraid. I’ll keep you safe, Lex—I’ll never let you go.” He kissed him again and murmured, “I’ll never let you fall.”
Lex closed his eyes and knew that Clark was talking about a million things, like he always did. The key to understanding Clark was to know what he was telling you, no matter what he said.
Clark rolled lazily in the air, and Lex was full length on him, holding on tight. He was certain Clark was sure that he wouldn’t drop him but still….
“Lex, I want to make love to you up here, think how wonderful it would be, oh gosh--I want to suck you, I want you inside me, up here where it belongs to just us…”
Ignoring the throb Clark’s words sent through his dick, he patted him affectionately on the cheek. “Clark—never in our lifetime will I *ever* let you do that. I don’t want to plummet to my death because you want an orgasm.
Clark gave him the look that said, ‘you say no now, but soon… soon….’
“Down Clark—and I mean that literally.”
******
“Seriously—red, and blue? *And* yellow? Are you blind? Or just totally without an ounce of taste?”
“Oh my—I picked you, didn’t I?”
“Clark—one example of good taste in your life doesn’t mean that you can be left alone to make--”
“Dads!”
They turned to look at Ripley, standing in Clark’s studio, her hands on her hips And a disgusted look on her face. “Gosh! Mature people? This is the example you set me? I’m impressionable, you know. This—this is no way to handle a disagreement.”
“Really?” Lex raised an eyebrow. “I suppose you have some way to settle this?”
Clark snickered when Ripley raised an eyebrow right back, so much like Lex…
“Cut cards?”
“What?”
“Draw straws?”
Lex stared at her incredulously “Straws? An important decision like this decided by--” she held out her hand to Clark, two little slivers of wood in it. He reached out to grab a straw, and Lex huffed. “Since when have I lost all control in this house?”
“Since we ganged up on you,” Clark smiled and showed Lex the short straw. “I get to choose, don’t I? Red and blue it is—they’re bright, warm, friendly colors, people will respond positively when they see those colors, not run screaming for cover when I drop out of the sky like—like some giant black bat.”
"Don’t be ridiculous," Lex said. He glared at Clark’s sketch of his color choice—“Friendly…trustworthy...people trust Barney, why don’t you pick purple and green using that logic--”
“For crying out loud-- Lex, first of all that’s nuts…”
Ripley sighed and wandered off to her room, shaking her head. “I wash my hands of the both of you,” she called, and shut her door, and leaned against it, and smiled and smiled until her cheeks ached, her eyes ached.
Her dads loved each other so much. Her heart floated, she was warm and happy, happier than she’d ever, ever felt---she didn’t know that she was an inch or two off the floor….
TBC!
(no subject)
9/4/06 05:31 am (UTC)I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS CHAPTER! SO CUTE!
He jerked his head back and gasped, "Oh, shit, you do want something, don’t you?"
Clark laughed and gasped and managed to look outraged all at once. Lex smirked at him. "Don't even try it. What is it?"
...
With a knowing smile, Lex held up his hand, reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a folder. He handed it to Clark and told him, “Open it.”
Clark opened the envelope, and shook out a few sheets of heavy paper. "Lex...this...is a painting of a guy in a really hideous get-up-kind of an ugly, solid black version of Captain America...or maybe a really gay Black Bolt..." He flipped through the sheets, a puzzled frown wrinkling his forehead.
-- So Married, So Whipped, both of them.
-- I love the file of costumes, Lex try to starve off an inevitable that he doesn't even know about.
Lex opened his eye, smiled at Clark-and yelled.
"Why does everyone do that?" Clark asked, and drifted closer to the patio floor.
"Clark-oh. My. God. You can fly."
Clark nodded, his expression worried, maybe a little afraid---Lex said again. "You can fly..." It was unreal, fantastic-unbelievable, and yet they were floating, inches above the patio floor, and Clark was smiling hopefully now.
"How...how high can you go?" Lex asked, and swallowed around the lump in his throat. His heart was beating faster and faster, and...he was getting hard. Great. Just great.
-- Why does everyone do that indeed, HA!
-- I think we all always knew that Lex has a thing for Superheros, awwww.
Ripley sighed and wandered off to her room, shaking her head. "I wash my hands of the both of you," she called, and shut her door, and leaned against it, and smiled and smiled until her cheeks ached, her eyes ached.
Her dads loved each other so much. Her heart floated, she was warm and happy, happier than she'd ever, ever felt---she didn't know that she was an inch or two off the floor....
-- We know Rip, aren't they just the cutest thing ever together. This is why we love.
-- So Rip got all of Clark's cool powers, neat.
I love all the married people bickering Lex and Clark do in this section, the bemusement and love is palpable. *sniffle...sniffle* so close to the end (noes, noes)
(no subject)
9/4/06 05:44 am (UTC)Yep-she's got everything, and the dads are not going to be all that happy about some of those things she inherited....
(no subject)
9/4/06 05:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
9/4/06 03:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
9/4/06 02:16 pm (UTC)I think that's why I'm loving this story so much. So good, missroxyrose!
A family story shared often with people asking about how we've stayed married all these years is when our 8-year-old daughter came into the kitchen one evening and asked if we were getting divorced.
"No, why honey?"
"Because you're really angry and yelling at each other and the kids at school say that's what happened when their parents got divorced."
"No, we're not yelling - we're just discussing our opinions in really loud voices."
It became a family phrase to signal it was time to tone it down.
The voices aren't as loud these days, but the 'discussions' continue - makeup sex still rocks!
(no subject)
9/4/06 04:04 pm (UTC)Really, discussions never stop, but it does seem the volume tones down over the years, and a lot more compromising happens--one of the good things about aging, I guess! *GRIN*