fic post: Mariposa
12/13/06 11:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyTitle:Mariposa
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Whit…
Rating: 4
Summary: AUs make the baby cheeses cry….
The Previous Parts are here, wishing they had Seth Green’s phone number…and some Tub O’ Lube. Or Crisco, they’re not picky.
Watch That Man
The clinic was freezing—Clark had his arms wrapped around himself, trying to generate some warmth and Whitney was rubbing his back. Clark knew he was trying to make him feel better but worry for Mr. Earl was gnawing at him. He took the chance and leaned heavily into Whit for a second. It helped a bit—being near Whit always helped.
The PA system echoed in the hall as it called out doctor's names and mysterious codes, nurses bustled back and forth…there were so many people in pain, so many hurting. It was sort of scary--definitely unnerving being in the medical center. The last time he was in a hospital…he didn’t really remember the last time he was in a hospital.
Chloe came hurrying up the too bright corridor, carrying two sodas. She handed one to Clark, who passed it off to Whit, and she spoke as she opened the one in her hand. “Clark, I don’t know, this guy should be in detox…”
Clark waved her off impatiently. “No, Chloe, he’s not like that, He’s a good guy.”
“You don’t know what he could have gotten into since he quit the farm. Didn’t you see, he was shaking like a leaf.”
Clark knew Whit could feel his agitation; how tight his muscles were under his hand. Whit moved his hand to Clark’s shoulder and squeezed, murmured, “Hey, he’s going to be okay, thanks to you. They’ll take care of him.”
Chloe still looked doubtful and peeked through the waiting room doorway at all the activity taking place down the hall. Clark joined her at the door. “You know, Earl worked on the farm almost as long as I can remember. I spent a lot of time working next to him—I talked to him about…stuff. School and personal stuff. He really is a decent person.”
Chloe smiled doubtfully, but Whit nodded, brushed his knuckles against Clark’s hand, and Clark felt a little bit more of the ice inside him melt.
“Well, maybe,” Chloe said, “but just because you spend time with someone doesn’t mean you know their deepest, darkest secrets.”
“God, Chloe, give it a rest, can’t you see Clark’s upset enough?” Whit snapped. He was about to say more, but he was interrupted by the arrival of two policemen from Smallville’s force. The men glanced at Whit and Clark and one of them lifted an eyebrow, and smirked. Whit tried to unobtrusively put a little distance between himself and Clark.
“Where can we find Earl Jenkins?” they asked the nurse on duty. She pointed down the hall. “Can I ask what this is about?” she asked.
The officer who'd smirked at Clark and Whit answered her, speaking into her chest as he said, “Well, he’s wanted for murder in the city--” and he was interrupted by frantic screaming, from a room further down the hall. Clark jerked forward, ready to run to the sound, but Whit stopped him. “Come on, Clark—let it go. There’s nothing you can do anymore. It’s up to the doctors.”
Clark hesitated, and reluctantly agreed..“Okay.”
Whit smiled at him. “I’ll take you home. I already let my folks know I’d be over at your place tonight.”
“Oh, good,” Clark sighed, and avoided Chloe’s eyes.
******
They were in the loft, and Clark showed Whit his telescope. Whit peered into the eyepiece and muttered, “You know Clark, when you offered me a look at your telescope, I totally thought it was a cute name you call your dick.”
“Whit!” Clark laughed, scandalized and enjoying it.
“Yeah, well…” he looked up with a crooked grin. “So, want to make up the bed?” He walked about the loft, turning on Clark’s troop of space heaters and hooking the TV up to an extension cord. While he did that, Clark pulled out the sleeper, and took sheets and blankets out of the trunk. He snapped a sheet out over the mattress and smoothed it, tossed one of the heavy trade blankets over it, and stopped. “Whit?”
“Hmm?”
“What’s going to happen tonight? Are we going to act like we’re just friends or…”
Whit huffed and ran his fingers through the mop of hair falling into his eyes. “Well, I guess that’s impossible anymore. I’m not sure where we are now.”
“Whit, you asked me before if I’d ever had sex…well, what about you? Do you have experience with guys?”
Whit nodded and Clark felt a stab of irrational jealousy. He didn’t want to be first, but…he wanted to be first.
“Summer camp. This guy…I don’t know. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
Clark felt a punch to his chest. “Oh yeah?”
Whit nodded, “We didn’t even *like* each other but man—it was like a—an addiction. All that summer any chance we got, we were fucking.” He looked at Clark. “But that was it. Just fucking. I’ve been with that guy, and a few girls, and I’ve never ever felt about any of them the way I feel about you. I want to be with you—need to be with you. It’s like, when you talk, I have to stop and listen, because I love the sound of your voice, you smile and I feel like I have to smile, too.” He looked at his feet and mumbled, “When you hurt, it makes me feel like I’m dying.”
“Whit,” Clark breathed, “sounds serious to me.”
“Yeah, well…”
Clark sat on the bed, and held out his hand. “I want this, I really want this. I can’t imagine ever wanting it with anyone else.”
Whit scoffed, but smiled, his eyes sparkled a brighter blue, and he walked over to the bed. Clark’s heart was beating crazily, and his mouth was dry. He wanted it, but still, he was a little scared. Whit sat and put his hand on Clark’s knee. “It’s okay to be scared. Normal. Remember, anything you don’t want, you stop me, okay? Promise you’ll stop me?”
Clark nodded. “Yes.” He closed his eyes, and felt the smooth warmth of Whit’s mouth over his. He felt the slide of Whit’s hand up his leg, and Whit asked him again, “Are you sure? ‘Cause I’m not sure, but I really want to.”
“I’m sure, I was afraid I’d have to wait for ever.”
Whit kissed him again, and stood. He unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off, and reached out for Clark; together they pulled his t-shirt over his head. Clark watched Whit unzip his jeans and skin off boxers and jeans in one go. He was nude, the glow of the one lamp still lit making him golden all over. Clark inhaled sharply. He’d seen lots of naked guys before of course, the locker room and all…but Whit was perfect, and hard, and his dick was—Clark blushed all over—was pretty. He smiled and Whit looked down at him, his answering smile soft, eyelids drooping, they both watched his hand skimming over his belly. His fingertips glanced over his dick, and it swayed at his touch. “Clark...” he touched himself a little firmer, and a pearly drop rose and hung from the tip. “…Clark.”
Clark tried to take his own jeans off but his fingers felt thick and clumsy. His mouth was so dry it was almost painful to swallow, but Whit was there and helping him, and when he pulled down his pants, he pressed his head into Clark’s crotch…Clark shivered. He was smelling him, tasting him…his dick leaped when Whit’s fingers grazed his ass, and his jeans and boxers were flung across the room. “Uh!”
Whit’s lips touched him, slid along his length. Clark fought not to press him down, to beg him to open his mouth, suck him in…
Whit stood and turned and Clark gasped, “Wait—where are you going?”
Whit laughed, “I’m going to turn off the lights--”
“No! I mean—no, please…can we leave them on, I need…”
Whit face crumbled, and he was on the couch, holding Clark’s hands, nodding fiercely. “Of course…Clark…are you absolutely sure? I’ve never asked anyone so many times, but I have to be certain that…you’re certain.”
“Whit—I’m not made of glass, I won’t break. It’s just—nerves. Don’t treat me different because of…today.”
“Of course not! I know you’re strong. And brave, and I’m—wow, I can’t believe that I feel kind of honored that you want me.”
“Idiot,” Clark said fondly. He pulled Whit in close to kiss him, and Whit was ready, hands up to circle his face, eyes drifting closed. The kiss was the beginning, a launch into incredible pleasure, deep and pure. Clark felt like he was flying in slow motion, the slick, warm slide of Whit’s lips against his, his tongue lazily sweeping through his mouth made him want more. more touches, more heat—he nipped at Whit’s lip and was rewarded with a growl. Whit pushed him flat on the sofa bed, kissed and bit his neck, his nipples--“Whit! Oh—uh--” He trembled under the hot, wet drag of Whit’s dick across his belly, and gasped again when their dicks lined up, catching and rolling against each other.
“Fuck, Clark…” Whit pulled back and touched Clark, felt along the edge of skin still covering the head of his dick. He pulled it forward, and back, gently exploring and all the while Clark shuddered and shook, Whit’s finger eased over the wet surface of his sensitive head. He bent, pulled the skin forward again and licked, sucked at it, thrust his tongue in and out, teasing the slit until Clark was making a noise close to a howl…he sat up and Clark shouted.
“Oh, don’t—don’t--”
Whit chuckled and stretched full length on Clark, settled their dicks between them. “Hold on,” he said, “You’ll like this.”
“What—ah-ah--”
Whit slid against Clark, and groaned as wave after wave intense feeling swept him. Swept Clark. The cling and drag as they rubbed against each other made Clark sob and push back, harder, and harder, they clung tight to each other, desperately striving to keep every bit of themselves in contact.
Clark felt it start deep in his gut, a clenching pull of muscle that made everything tense and tingle, he was losing it, thrusting wilder and wilder—Whit reached under him and grabbed his ass, fingers sliding into the cleft, pulling Clark in tight, skating over his hole and that was all it took, his dick throbbed and swelled and jerked, come shot up between them, spreading between their grinding bellies, their hips. Whit groaned, a long breathy moan of sound that wound its way right up Clark’s spine and made his dick jerk again, made it jerk harder and try to spit again when Whit’s come erupted against him. Liquid heat pushed against his balls and he shuddered, collapsed against the bed with a moan. He felt his chest, his throat, even his chin splattered with Whit’s hot come.
It was incredible.
For a moment, everything outside of him and inside of him was pitch-black and totally silent, complete and perfect—and then he was back, wrapped around Whit, trembling and laughing, and Whit was holding him, laughing softly into his neck. “That was fucking amazing. I think you might have killed me.”
Clark nodded. “It was incredible. My first time. You were amazing, you made me feel...wow.”
Whit lifted his head, Clark’s words penetrating the fog… “Not me, Clark—you’re amazing. You make me feel like a king.”
Clark grinned and threw his arms around whit’s neck. “Whitney—I had sex! And with the person I love the most in the whole world!”
“Clark—it’s just you and me now, no sex with anyone else from now on—promise.”
Clark sighed, a little of his joy tarnished. “What about Lana? How are you--”
Whit grinned, “She’s saving herself for marriage. Ours I guess.” He snorted. “Yeah. She gives a good blowjob, though…” Clark stiffened—Whit’s words were kind of callous--Whit misunderstood and hurried to console Clark “—but it’s not like she’d noticed if I stopped asking.”
Clark rolled to his side away from Whit, and Whit got up and dug through the desk drawer. He came back with the wipes and his t-shirt. “Come on, let me clean you up.” Clark stared at the liquid mess all over his and Whit’s chests--while Whit cleaned him, he reached out and ran a finger through the sticky wet, and licked it.
“Clark—freak!” Whit grinned and asked in a low voice that went straight to Clark’s dick. “How does it taste?”
“I like it," he whispered, staring into Whit’s eyes. “It’s you and me, I like everything about us.”
Whit shivered. “Lana—Lana doesn’t…”
Clark grabbed Whit’s thigh and squeezed hard enough to make him wince. “Don’t mention her ever again when we’re together, when we’re like this. Swear.”
Whit nodded and gasped when Clark let go. There were five distinct prints on his leg, tomorrow they’d be purple bruises, tender to the touch. He ran his fingers lightly over the marks, and Clark saw heat flare in his eyes. He bent, kissed Whit’s dick. Licked around the head, and lapped long long wet stripes over it, until Whit was hard again. He attacked him, driving the head deep into his throat, sucking and licking until Whit was thrusting in, both hands buried in Clark’s hair and any thought of slow, and gentle, and careful, driven out of his head by the wet sound of Clark’s mouth and tongue working him--attacking him, by questing fingers worming back into his sweat slick cleft, a twist of his hips and Clark’s finger entered him, his dick struck the back of Clark’s throat and he was coming, Clark trapped him and swallowed, not allowing him to pull out, drank him down and moaned as he was doing it.
Whit dropped back against the couch, his hair and face wet with sweat… “Clark, holy fuck—holy fuck--”
Clark looked at him and Whit didn’t need to hear him to understand what Clark had just told him. There was nothing Lana could do for him that Clark wouldn’t do better—and love doing it. Whit nodded, too breathless to speak. Clark’s fingers meshed with his, and they both lay on the bed, panting, exhausted, silent.
*****
Morning came much faster than Clark was ready for—cool yellow light washed the rough floor boards, the alarm was chirping and Clark knew the floor would be freezing and prickly against his bare feet…it was a tremendous act of will power to untangle himself from Whit’s warm legs and arms and get up—He smeared a quick kiss across Whit’s sleep soft mouth, forced himself to get dressed and head out to do his chores.
Clark was finished, showered and breakfast made by the time Whit made it back to the house. “You left me,” he mumbled, scratching his ribs, and peering about. “It’s cold up there without you.”
“Had chores.” Clark answered, grinning to himself. He felt wonderful. He was with Whit. Had sex with him. Amazing, incredible sex.
Whit realized Clark was grinning at him, and grinned back. “Wow, I even get breakfast, cool.”
Clark set plates out, and handed Whit a mug. “Don’t get used to it.”
Whit sighed wistfully. “I wish I could…”
The mood in the kitchen darkened a bit, they were quiet as they ate…but they held hands and didn’t let go.
TBC
eta:oopsies--sorry!
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Whit…
Rating: 4
Summary: AUs make the baby cheeses cry….
The Previous Parts are here, wishing they had Seth Green’s phone number…and some Tub O’ Lube. Or Crisco, they’re not picky.
Watch That Man
The clinic was freezing—Clark had his arms wrapped around himself, trying to generate some warmth and Whitney was rubbing his back. Clark knew he was trying to make him feel better but worry for Mr. Earl was gnawing at him. He took the chance and leaned heavily into Whit for a second. It helped a bit—being near Whit always helped.
The PA system echoed in the hall as it called out doctor's names and mysterious codes, nurses bustled back and forth…there were so many people in pain, so many hurting. It was sort of scary--definitely unnerving being in the medical center. The last time he was in a hospital…he didn’t really remember the last time he was in a hospital.
Chloe came hurrying up the too bright corridor, carrying two sodas. She handed one to Clark, who passed it off to Whit, and she spoke as she opened the one in her hand. “Clark, I don’t know, this guy should be in detox…”
Clark waved her off impatiently. “No, Chloe, he’s not like that, He’s a good guy.”
“You don’t know what he could have gotten into since he quit the farm. Didn’t you see, he was shaking like a leaf.”
Clark knew Whit could feel his agitation; how tight his muscles were under his hand. Whit moved his hand to Clark’s shoulder and squeezed, murmured, “Hey, he’s going to be okay, thanks to you. They’ll take care of him.”
Chloe still looked doubtful and peeked through the waiting room doorway at all the activity taking place down the hall. Clark joined her at the door. “You know, Earl worked on the farm almost as long as I can remember. I spent a lot of time working next to him—I talked to him about…stuff. School and personal stuff. He really is a decent person.”
Chloe smiled doubtfully, but Whit nodded, brushed his knuckles against Clark’s hand, and Clark felt a little bit more of the ice inside him melt.
“Well, maybe,” Chloe said, “but just because you spend time with someone doesn’t mean you know their deepest, darkest secrets.”
“God, Chloe, give it a rest, can’t you see Clark’s upset enough?” Whit snapped. He was about to say more, but he was interrupted by the arrival of two policemen from Smallville’s force. The men glanced at Whit and Clark and one of them lifted an eyebrow, and smirked. Whit tried to unobtrusively put a little distance between himself and Clark.
“Where can we find Earl Jenkins?” they asked the nurse on duty. She pointed down the hall. “Can I ask what this is about?” she asked.
The officer who'd smirked at Clark and Whit answered her, speaking into her chest as he said, “Well, he’s wanted for murder in the city--” and he was interrupted by frantic screaming, from a room further down the hall. Clark jerked forward, ready to run to the sound, but Whit stopped him. “Come on, Clark—let it go. There’s nothing you can do anymore. It’s up to the doctors.”
Clark hesitated, and reluctantly agreed..“Okay.”
Whit smiled at him. “I’ll take you home. I already let my folks know I’d be over at your place tonight.”
“Oh, good,” Clark sighed, and avoided Chloe’s eyes.
******
They were in the loft, and Clark showed Whit his telescope. Whit peered into the eyepiece and muttered, “You know Clark, when you offered me a look at your telescope, I totally thought it was a cute name you call your dick.”
“Whit!” Clark laughed, scandalized and enjoying it.
“Yeah, well…” he looked up with a crooked grin. “So, want to make up the bed?” He walked about the loft, turning on Clark’s troop of space heaters and hooking the TV up to an extension cord. While he did that, Clark pulled out the sleeper, and took sheets and blankets out of the trunk. He snapped a sheet out over the mattress and smoothed it, tossed one of the heavy trade blankets over it, and stopped. “Whit?”
“Hmm?”
“What’s going to happen tonight? Are we going to act like we’re just friends or…”
Whit huffed and ran his fingers through the mop of hair falling into his eyes. “Well, I guess that’s impossible anymore. I’m not sure where we are now.”
“Whit, you asked me before if I’d ever had sex…well, what about you? Do you have experience with guys?”
Whit nodded and Clark felt a stab of irrational jealousy. He didn’t want to be first, but…he wanted to be first.
“Summer camp. This guy…I don’t know. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
Clark felt a punch to his chest. “Oh yeah?”
Whit nodded, “We didn’t even *like* each other but man—it was like a—an addiction. All that summer any chance we got, we were fucking.” He looked at Clark. “But that was it. Just fucking. I’ve been with that guy, and a few girls, and I’ve never ever felt about any of them the way I feel about you. I want to be with you—need to be with you. It’s like, when you talk, I have to stop and listen, because I love the sound of your voice, you smile and I feel like I have to smile, too.” He looked at his feet and mumbled, “When you hurt, it makes me feel like I’m dying.”
“Whit,” Clark breathed, “sounds serious to me.”
“Yeah, well…”
Clark sat on the bed, and held out his hand. “I want this, I really want this. I can’t imagine ever wanting it with anyone else.”
Whit scoffed, but smiled, his eyes sparkled a brighter blue, and he walked over to the bed. Clark’s heart was beating crazily, and his mouth was dry. He wanted it, but still, he was a little scared. Whit sat and put his hand on Clark’s knee. “It’s okay to be scared. Normal. Remember, anything you don’t want, you stop me, okay? Promise you’ll stop me?”
Clark nodded. “Yes.” He closed his eyes, and felt the smooth warmth of Whit’s mouth over his. He felt the slide of Whit’s hand up his leg, and Whit asked him again, “Are you sure? ‘Cause I’m not sure, but I really want to.”
“I’m sure, I was afraid I’d have to wait for ever.”
Whit kissed him again, and stood. He unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off, and reached out for Clark; together they pulled his t-shirt over his head. Clark watched Whit unzip his jeans and skin off boxers and jeans in one go. He was nude, the glow of the one lamp still lit making him golden all over. Clark inhaled sharply. He’d seen lots of naked guys before of course, the locker room and all…but Whit was perfect, and hard, and his dick was—Clark blushed all over—was pretty. He smiled and Whit looked down at him, his answering smile soft, eyelids drooping, they both watched his hand skimming over his belly. His fingertips glanced over his dick, and it swayed at his touch. “Clark...” he touched himself a little firmer, and a pearly drop rose and hung from the tip. “…Clark.”
Clark tried to take his own jeans off but his fingers felt thick and clumsy. His mouth was so dry it was almost painful to swallow, but Whit was there and helping him, and when he pulled down his pants, he pressed his head into Clark’s crotch…Clark shivered. He was smelling him, tasting him…his dick leaped when Whit’s fingers grazed his ass, and his jeans and boxers were flung across the room. “Uh!”
Whit’s lips touched him, slid along his length. Clark fought not to press him down, to beg him to open his mouth, suck him in…
Whit stood and turned and Clark gasped, “Wait—where are you going?”
Whit laughed, “I’m going to turn off the lights--”
“No! I mean—no, please…can we leave them on, I need…”
Whit face crumbled, and he was on the couch, holding Clark’s hands, nodding fiercely. “Of course…Clark…are you absolutely sure? I’ve never asked anyone so many times, but I have to be certain that…you’re certain.”
“Whit—I’m not made of glass, I won’t break. It’s just—nerves. Don’t treat me different because of…today.”
“Of course not! I know you’re strong. And brave, and I’m—wow, I can’t believe that I feel kind of honored that you want me.”
“Idiot,” Clark said fondly. He pulled Whit in close to kiss him, and Whit was ready, hands up to circle his face, eyes drifting closed. The kiss was the beginning, a launch into incredible pleasure, deep and pure. Clark felt like he was flying in slow motion, the slick, warm slide of Whit’s lips against his, his tongue lazily sweeping through his mouth made him want more. more touches, more heat—he nipped at Whit’s lip and was rewarded with a growl. Whit pushed him flat on the sofa bed, kissed and bit his neck, his nipples--“Whit! Oh—uh--” He trembled under the hot, wet drag of Whit’s dick across his belly, and gasped again when their dicks lined up, catching and rolling against each other.
“Fuck, Clark…” Whit pulled back and touched Clark, felt along the edge of skin still covering the head of his dick. He pulled it forward, and back, gently exploring and all the while Clark shuddered and shook, Whit’s finger eased over the wet surface of his sensitive head. He bent, pulled the skin forward again and licked, sucked at it, thrust his tongue in and out, teasing the slit until Clark was making a noise close to a howl…he sat up and Clark shouted.
“Oh, don’t—don’t--”
Whit chuckled and stretched full length on Clark, settled their dicks between them. “Hold on,” he said, “You’ll like this.”
“What—ah-ah--”
Whit slid against Clark, and groaned as wave after wave intense feeling swept him. Swept Clark. The cling and drag as they rubbed against each other made Clark sob and push back, harder, and harder, they clung tight to each other, desperately striving to keep every bit of themselves in contact.
Clark felt it start deep in his gut, a clenching pull of muscle that made everything tense and tingle, he was losing it, thrusting wilder and wilder—Whit reached under him and grabbed his ass, fingers sliding into the cleft, pulling Clark in tight, skating over his hole and that was all it took, his dick throbbed and swelled and jerked, come shot up between them, spreading between their grinding bellies, their hips. Whit groaned, a long breathy moan of sound that wound its way right up Clark’s spine and made his dick jerk again, made it jerk harder and try to spit again when Whit’s come erupted against him. Liquid heat pushed against his balls and he shuddered, collapsed against the bed with a moan. He felt his chest, his throat, even his chin splattered with Whit’s hot come.
It was incredible.
For a moment, everything outside of him and inside of him was pitch-black and totally silent, complete and perfect—and then he was back, wrapped around Whit, trembling and laughing, and Whit was holding him, laughing softly into his neck. “That was fucking amazing. I think you might have killed me.”
Clark nodded. “It was incredible. My first time. You were amazing, you made me feel...wow.”
Whit lifted his head, Clark’s words penetrating the fog… “Not me, Clark—you’re amazing. You make me feel like a king.”
Clark grinned and threw his arms around whit’s neck. “Whitney—I had sex! And with the person I love the most in the whole world!”
“Clark—it’s just you and me now, no sex with anyone else from now on—promise.”
Clark sighed, a little of his joy tarnished. “What about Lana? How are you--”
Whit grinned, “She’s saving herself for marriage. Ours I guess.” He snorted. “Yeah. She gives a good blowjob, though…” Clark stiffened—Whit’s words were kind of callous--Whit misunderstood and hurried to console Clark “—but it’s not like she’d noticed if I stopped asking.”
Clark rolled to his side away from Whit, and Whit got up and dug through the desk drawer. He came back with the wipes and his t-shirt. “Come on, let me clean you up.” Clark stared at the liquid mess all over his and Whit’s chests--while Whit cleaned him, he reached out and ran a finger through the sticky wet, and licked it.
“Clark—freak!” Whit grinned and asked in a low voice that went straight to Clark’s dick. “How does it taste?”
“I like it," he whispered, staring into Whit’s eyes. “It’s you and me, I like everything about us.”
Whit shivered. “Lana—Lana doesn’t…”
Clark grabbed Whit’s thigh and squeezed hard enough to make him wince. “Don’t mention her ever again when we’re together, when we’re like this. Swear.”
Whit nodded and gasped when Clark let go. There were five distinct prints on his leg, tomorrow they’d be purple bruises, tender to the touch. He ran his fingers lightly over the marks, and Clark saw heat flare in his eyes. He bent, kissed Whit’s dick. Licked around the head, and lapped long long wet stripes over it, until Whit was hard again. He attacked him, driving the head deep into his throat, sucking and licking until Whit was thrusting in, both hands buried in Clark’s hair and any thought of slow, and gentle, and careful, driven out of his head by the wet sound of Clark’s mouth and tongue working him--attacking him, by questing fingers worming back into his sweat slick cleft, a twist of his hips and Clark’s finger entered him, his dick struck the back of Clark’s throat and he was coming, Clark trapped him and swallowed, not allowing him to pull out, drank him down and moaned as he was doing it.
Whit dropped back against the couch, his hair and face wet with sweat… “Clark, holy fuck—holy fuck--”
Clark looked at him and Whit didn’t need to hear him to understand what Clark had just told him. There was nothing Lana could do for him that Clark wouldn’t do better—and love doing it. Whit nodded, too breathless to speak. Clark’s fingers meshed with his, and they both lay on the bed, panting, exhausted, silent.
*****
Morning came much faster than Clark was ready for—cool yellow light washed the rough floor boards, the alarm was chirping and Clark knew the floor would be freezing and prickly against his bare feet…it was a tremendous act of will power to untangle himself from Whit’s warm legs and arms and get up—He smeared a quick kiss across Whit’s sleep soft mouth, forced himself to get dressed and head out to do his chores.
Clark was finished, showered and breakfast made by the time Whit made it back to the house. “You left me,” he mumbled, scratching his ribs, and peering about. “It’s cold up there without you.”
“Had chores.” Clark answered, grinning to himself. He felt wonderful. He was with Whit. Had sex with him. Amazing, incredible sex.
Whit realized Clark was grinning at him, and grinned back. “Wow, I even get breakfast, cool.”
Clark set plates out, and handed Whit a mug. “Don’t get used to it.”
Whit sighed wistfully. “I wish I could…”
The mood in the kitchen darkened a bit, they were quiet as they ate…but they held hands and didn’t let go.
TBC
eta:oopsies--sorry!
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