I'm hiding until everyone arrives. I am a SPINELESS lemming who says sure when people say, well, we have kids.
Anyway. For those interested, more ficness. Because character consistency and development? Bah.
*grins* Oh yeah, I'm in a perky mood. It's called outright panic.
Like dinner the night before, lunch with Lex is--comfortable.
Scarily comfortable, almost like being friends in Smallville again, except for all that sex that isn't happening, which right, is *also* a lot like Smallville, but now it's not happening because they don't have time. And it's going to happen, even if Clark's logical brain keeps telling him, are you really ready for this? You do remember that thing you two did where you sort of *hated* each other, right?
Clark's not listening to that part very often. It's not terribly loud, and it fades a little more every time Lex looks at him.
Like--like the first thought in his head when he saw Lex at lunch, cool in business grey, dark sunglasses, and almost defiantly challenging anyone to question why Lex Luthor was standing outside his own building for no apparent reason, is to touch. Insanely, insanely weird reasoning going on, but he had to close his hands over the steering wheel when Lex slid inside, settling beside Clark like it's something they've done every day, giving him a look over the fine edge of his glasses that….
Clark blinks back into the warm deli, noting that the sandwiches at some point had appeared, and Lex is viewing him over the rim of a styrofoam cup of coffee with a curious expression. Reaching for a potato chip, Clark bites down aggressively and thinks non-sexy thoughts.
Very, very non-sexy thoughts. Freshly baked potato chips, extra salt. Not sexy. Lex, across from him, licking excess salt from his bare fingers. Sexy.
Oh, this is going to be a long day.
"No. I'm fine." Eating another potato chip, Clark shifts in his seat as Lex picks at the chicken salad sandwich in front of him with little frown of concentration, picking up one of the triangular quarters. "Um. How do you like it?"
Kaatz's is Clark's favorite place in the world to eat. They sell huge sandwiches and chips that are almost as good as the ones Mom makes sometimes when she has time--thickly cut potato, baked crisp, and covered in salt.
"Good," Lex answers after the first careful bite. "You scared me with mention of fast food."
"Please," Clark answers, checking his turkey club for mustard, "I saw the paper bags in the back of your cars. You're totally a fast food junkie."
"Clark, I have appearances to maintain." A quick smile, before Lex takes another bite. Their chicken salad is amazing. "And you never saw a fast food bag anywhere *near* my cars."
"Stuffed under the seat--"
"Take that back!"
"--like you were ashamed of it." Grinning, Clark ducks his head, getting back to the important task of eating.
Narrowed eyes greet him when he raises his head, and Clark swallows quickly before sticking his tongue out. Oh right. Not just adolescent hormones--there's been regression to adolescent behavior as well.
"Please." Lex shakes his head, finishing the first quarter. Eyes fix on Clark's sandwich briefly before flickering up. "You don't eat as much as you used to."
Surprised, Clark looks down at his plate. "Changed metabolism, I guess." With a little shrug, he picks up the second quarter of the club. "It's just--the first couple of days, it was hard to eat."
"Did you follow my instructions?"
Clark rolls his eyes. "Yes, Lex. Lois bought everything and mixed it herself. I'm fine. And yeah, that's what I was going to ask you. How the hell--"
"Did I know what would happen?" Lex shrugs elegantly, taking a careful bite. "Cause and effect. You changed your entire genetic structure and did it in under twelve hours if Michael's report is right." With a frown, Lex looks him over with a critical eye. "In fact, you should probably be eating more now than usual, at least for a while. Your body's used to taking a certain amount of nutrition from ultraviolet radiation and with that gone, the conversion--"
"I'm beginning to remember why I skipped Bio II."
"Hush." Lex frowns again, brow furrowed in thought. "Clark, have you seen a doctor?"
Putting down the remains of the sandwich, Clark grins. "Oh. Right. I forgot. I can call a doctor and ask, hey, I've just changed DNA and I need to know if I'm healthy--"
"That's not what I meant." Wiping his fingers, Lex pushes his plate aside. "I mean, you *are* human. You need to get a check-up and get your baselines. I'd do it--"
"--when did you get that medical degree?"
"--but you do need a regular doctor." Leaning both elbows on the table, Lex meets his eyes. "A full work-up."
"How do I explain my lack of medical history? I've visited less than ten times in my life." Sometime in childhood, though Clark doesn’t have any clear memories of that, though his parents said he was unusually calm through the entire thing. Other than a few emergency-room visits, including his last time as human, he really doesn’t have--anything. Wow.
"That's not a problem." Lex is looking at him carefully. "Go to Dr. Cassius."
Clark frowns, the name sending off vague alarms in his head. "He works for LexCorp, doesn't he?"
"And I pay him very well not to be too curious and ask too many questions." Lex raises an eyebrow, obviously amused by Clark's skepticism. "You don't have to trust my word--Cassius is an excellent doctor and he's very highly respected in medical circles. All he does for LexCorp is care for my staff and employees, nothing more. You can check his credentials yourself at the office. Or pick another doctor. But you need to be baselined to find out what's normal for you now. Even among the human population, there's immense variation. You need to know."
He's right, though Clark doesn't want to admit it. Humans fall and break their legs or get sick all the time. They go to the hospital and get treated, and it might be a good idea to at least have something to tell him what is and what isn't normal for him now.
Picking up a napkin, Clark takes a slow breath. "I feel fine."
"And I'd like it to stay that way. Jesus, you haven't even been vaccinated, have you?" Oh damn. Clark hadn't thought of that. Reaching down, Lex rummages in the pocket of his coat. "I'll make you an appointment for today--"
"Lex, I don't think--"
Lex pauses, fingers hovering over the keypad. There's a--well a *lot* that Clark's taking on faith here but--what could it hurt? He's got to trust Lex isn't using this for some weird purpose, and anyway, human. While the data might be interesting in theoretical terms, it's not like it could be at all useful otherwise.
"Okay." Looking down at the sandwich, Clark sighs. "I'll have to call Perry to take off for the afternoon. Where is--"
"I'll take you myself." Lex has the phone against his ear. "Benny?" Benny? Clark tries not to grin. "Yeah. Cancel whatever your one o'clock is. We'll be there in ten minutes." Clark watches Lex frown. "That's fine. New patient, standard work-up. No, a friend. Thanks." Turning it off, Lex looks up at him, a hint of a smile curving up the corner of his mouth. "Convenient."
"Hmm?" Fumbling for his cellphone, Clark blinks at the slow, lazy smile stretching Lex's mouth, looking him up and down, before getting to his feet.
That's how Clark gets backed into an alley in the middle of lunch hour in Metropolis.
There are some things that are predictable, like tides, migration of certain species of birds, and Dad's reaction to the name Luthor. There are things that aren't. Those things include a Lex who glances casually around the street then pushes Clark into an alley, only feet from an overfilled dumpster, before his tongue is in Clark's mouth and his hands are pulling Clark's coat open, sliding inside.
Oh God. This time, Clark moves faster, finding skin with his fingertips, fine as parchment on Lex's throat, skims a thumb over Lex's jaw. The low, pleased sound makes him shiver.
Cold brick is against his back and Lex's teeth are against his throat, pressing in, and Clark shudders at the start of pain--actual pain, twisting into each nerve, and it goes everywhere in his body, making him want to wince and pull away and grind his cock into Lex's thigh and pull him closer.
God, he hadn't even *guessed*.
Settling for a strangled gasp, Clark looks for words. "Lex. We're--in an alley." In public. Very, very public.
"Noticed that." Breathed hot on wet skin and Clark feels his cock twitch as he slides his hands down Lex's back, digging in when Lex's tongue slides over his collarbone.
"This--isn't your style." Or hell, Clark's either, but Clark's usual style has been pretty damn lousy so far, so he's willing to change techniques.
"And you think you know everything about me." A far too fast brush against his cock with the palm of Lex's hand, and Clark shudders, one hand locking on Lex's shoulder. Wet breath on his ear, a tongue following, gently pushing inside.
"Anyone could see us."
"So they could." Another brush against his cock, and Clark swallows, head scraping against the brick, eyes falling closed. His shirt's pulled free of his pants and warm hands slide over his waist, digging into his lower back, pulling them together, cock to cock. "I want you."
"Oh." Inane as hell, he's making out in an alley, but that's what he gets for going to lunch with jaded, too-sexy CEOs. There's a brief image of returning to work after having come in his pants, but right now, that's just fine. "Lex--"
A low, rumbling sound from the side of his neck, and Clark shudders at the next quick bite just below the collar of his shirt. "You bruise now." There's a trace of rich satisfaction in his voice, tongue licking soothingly over the skin. "So sorry, Clark--"
"Tonight." The low promise makes Clark shudder hard, and those able fingers unbutton the top of his pants, easing the zipper down. God, those hands--leather-covered, soft, sliding in his boxers, closing around him tight and hard. "Don't come yet."
Oh--oh God, easier said than done. He bites into his lip, the flash of pain barely enough to hold on, and then Lex is--dear God, is crouching, right here in this filthy alley, eyes fixed on his crotch with intent.
"Lex, what are you *doing*?"
A flashing smile upward, bright and hungry and sharp. "How long has it been since you had sex, Kent? Guess."
"Oh God." This really couldn't be happening. But those talented fingers are drawing him through the slit in his boxers, other hand on his hip, holding him still, and Lex leans forward, brushing the tip of his tongue over the head. "Lex, God, you can't--"
"I'm not sure I know that word." Hot breath now against the head, then Lex leans forward, taking the entirety into his mouth, sucking lightly. Clark's head slams into the brick--oh wow, that *hurts*, almost enough to distract him except, except, except Lex is *sucking his cock* and there's nothing on earth that can distract anyone from that. Lex pulls off with a wet sound that's like a shock to his nervous system, and a humiliating whimper is pushed out between Clark's lips. Looking up, the clear blue eyes look into Clark's, sparkling, dangerous, *hot*. "Take a deep breath, Clark. You're going to need it."
Swallowed whole. No time for thought or protesting or even that needed breath, because his cock is surrounded by tight, wet heat, and Lex hums something and Clark's losing his grip on reality. He can't be in a dirty alley, he's not pounding his hands against brick, and there's no way this is actually happening.
The world condenses into nothing but this--heat, wet, tight, suction, scraping through every nerve. It's never been like this. He's making noises and it's Lex's name over and over and over, because there aren't any other words that apply. Warm leather cups around his balls, playing lightly, stroking, then slide just behind to that insanely sensitive skin just behind them, that place that makes Clark come, every time.
Makes him come now, screaming, bruising his hands on rough brick and maybe concussing himself but who the hell cares? Knees like water, his body's sending wild signals about overload and too-good, and he barely catches himself on Lex's shoulder before he sinks to the ground.
And like that, Lex is on his feet, stepping between his thighs, hands trapping him against the wall, taking his mouth in a slow, sweet kiss. Clark can taste himself layered over everything else and his cock gives a half-hearted jerk that makes him wince.
When Lex pulls back, the reddened lips smile. "Third date, hmm?"
Clark hears himself choke out a laugh before Lex tucks him back in his pants, zipping them up neatly, then stepping back to check his own apparel. Like he's anything other than immaculate even now, and he licks his lips lightly, like he can taste Clark there still.
Hot eyes look into his, freezing the words on his tongue, and a gloved hand closes over his elbow, pulling gently. "Come on. We'll be late."
Late. Appointment. Right. Nodding slowly, Clark pushes himself off the wall, surprised his legs will hold him up at all. When they emerge back into the street, Clark wonders if the entire world can see his blush.
Yes, I'm still having fun. *g* And all mistakes in medical terminology and procedure are my own. I just tried to remember my last doctor's appointment eons ago to remember how it goes.
*off to hide*