Seperis (seperis) wrote,

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svfic: somewhere i have never travelled, 9 (WAS more and more ficness)

I am completely unashamed of being a schmoopy romantic. My shamelessness is legion.


It only occurs to him when they're in the elevator, quietly going up to the penthouse, like two people not currently imagining each other very naked, that he really doesn't have all that much experience.

Okay, so right, there was college and stuff there--lots of stuff there, actually, but not, well, not much sex-sex. Making out and other adventures were all well and good, and yes, there'd been that hot frat guy who'd hit on him at the sophomore mixer and they'd had fun, but….

But Clark just couldn't be sure, then. Not-human, too many secrets, and the fear that someone might notice--something. Something like he doesn't bruise or things don't hurt, or he might--might hurt them. Even not meaning to, just forgetting even for a second, and more than one girlfriend had gotten a one o'clock phone call after a bad dream. Just for him to be sure they were okay.

More than one break-up after too many bad nights and a near miss, like Erica and her sprained wrist, Jane's bruised thigh when he held on too tightly.

That's--not a problem this time. Except for the fact that he's with someone who goes through lovers like toilet paper. Including Lois, and she--well. She wouldn't bother with an incompetent lover.

Jesus, Lex might not either. He's fucked *Lois*. Oh dear God.

"Clark?" Quiet, careful voice, like maybe Lex is aware sexual shock is setting in. Warm fingers close over his hand, then a gentle pull. "Clark. Stop."

"I'm fine." His voice is about an octave too high. This isn't happening. It just can't be. He is *not* panicking about sex with Lex.

"I wanted you the first time I saw you."

It goes straight to his cock and that's it, Clark is investing in more pants. Better pants. Pants that stretch or allow for men with sexy voices talking like that. Like it's perfectly normal conversation for people who still are only halfway to their destination. Sweat breaks out on the back of Clark's neck, trickling into his collar.

"That mouth," Lex muses, almost like he's talking to himself. "I used to wonder how you'd taste. How you'd look. How I'd--"

"Lex." His skin feels too tight, muscles involuntarily clenching. "You know--"

Lex's mouth cuts him off. Hard, fast, almost painful, sharp bite to his lower lip before pushing inside, and it's like a first kiss all over again. Lex kisses like he's conquering territory a hard-won inch at a time and has to pacify it afterward. A slow draw over his palate, licking across his tongue, and Clark gives up trying to keep up, just going with it. Reaching for Lex and getting his hands under that coat, feeling muscle and skin beneath wool and silk.

Lex, who tastes like everything Clark's ever imagined and feels like a fantasy.

The elevator bings softly, and Lex pulls away, licking his lips like he's holding onto the taste of Clark's mouth. The fingers twined in his pull, and Clark follows down a short hall, vaguely aware of Lex entering codes and then the door's opened and they're inside.

An impression of white walls, then his coat hits the floor. It's all like a dream--rooms going by, Lex saying something to some help they pass, but the only real thing is Lex. Lex, pushing open a door and pulling Clark inside behind him, then he's up against the door and--God, being *eaten*.

Like Lex is making up for every time they'd looked away from each other, every unfulfilled dream, every lost possibility. Like Lex is trying to rewrite history with just his mouth, saying, you, yes, you, Clark. This is what we both wanted and we didn't get. This is what we can have.

Clark wants that. Needs it, shoving the coat off Lex's shoulders, fingers pulling at buttons that don't rip off when he's too clumsy, forcing silk apart to touch pure skin, and it's like coming home. Like this first touch, skating over Lex's chest, his shoulders, his collarbone, isn't as new and completely different. He has to have known forever that Lex's skin tastes earthy and rich, that it's smooth beneath his tongue, that a lick at this dip of bone and muscle makes him twitch, hands clenching against Clark's back.

Wool trousers fight him, button resisting, and finally Lex pulls away with a breathless, wet sound, hands at his waist, looking up only once with that slow burn erupting into something that says, yes. Now. Now, Clark. "Clothes."

He gets his dress jacket off. Shirt is more tricky, but he manages, throwing it aside, forcing his pants to obey shaking fingers, kicking off shoes, toeing off socks, mouth sore and empty, skin burning from the traces of Lex's mouth. Lex, backing up step by step to the bed, Clark following like iron following a magnet and then Lex is on his back and Clark is finally touching everything.

His hands can't move fast enough, can't touch enough, spreading his fingers to feel more. Lex is murmuring things in his ear--encouragement and promises and snatches of some dead poet who probably had no idea he would one day be quoted as foreplay, but Clark's lost in sensation. Pale, pale skin, light sprinkles of freckles over shoulders and chest that Clark can draw lines between with the tip of his tongue. Restless hands on his back, Lex feeling him by inches, like he has to memorize everything he touches, every muscle and bone, invisible fingerprints pressed into his shoulders that Clark will never stop feeling, tangling in his hair and pulling him up to that addictive mouth. Lex rolls them on their sides and Clark slides a leg over Lex's hip, keeping them close, gasping at the brush of cock on cock, bare and frighteningly hot.

Like he could burn up if he's not careful, consumed in too many years of sublimated desire that's breaking them both. And he'll like it.

Lex's fingers on his chest, thumbs brushing nipples awake, thrusting against him and pushing him that much higher. It's like being drunk but better, and Clark hears himself laughing when Lex's tongue flicks across his ear, his chin, slicking down his throat like he's drawing lines to follow later. A shift down that makes Clark mutter protest, but teeth close over his nipple and he forgets how words work. How they sound. How to make his tongue do anything but curl up behind his teeth to stop the sounds he's making, low and needy and desperate.

On his back somehow and Lex goes down on him in one motion, arching his back and liquefying his spine.


A low hum around his cock pushes his heels into the bed, scrambling for purchase, and his fingertips touch a silky scalp, sliding helplessly over the curve of skin and bone, he can't hurt Lex now, he can *touch*. Can arch and push up into that mouth, he doesn't have to be still, be careful, worry, because Lex can heal from anything and Clark can't hurt him anyway. And Lex fits against his palms, pressing against him, encouraging everything, you can do this, Clark, you can do anything you want.

Touch, hold on, push into that mouth harder and faster, but he wants something entirely different. Pulls Lex up and has to bite his lip to keep from coming just from the look on his face, the swollen red lips and eyes darkened to black.

"Lex, I want--"

"Anything you want." A kiss sucked into his inner thigh, quick tongue slicking his balls, hinting at a slide behind that forces out a gasp, but Clark pulls until Lex is covering him, smooth skin blanketing him, nipping at his lips. "Anything, any way you want it, Clark--"

Jesus. Shaking hands slide down Lex's back, digging into bone and muscle, as hard and he wants, and he *can't* hurt him.

"Fuck me." Like a normal person can, and he'll feel it. "Lex, I want you to fuck me."

Lex traces his face with one hand, fingers shaping to his cheek, breath panting out, and if it's possible, the blue eyes are even darker, pupil swallowing the iris until there's nothing but raw need. "Have you ever done that before?"

"No." Too many variables to consider. Clark couldn't imagine taking his experiments in sex that far.

"It'll hurt." More like a promise than a warning, and Lex levers himself up, slowly, like he can't quite make himself want to move faster. Reaching with one hand to the bedside table, pulling open a drawer, little tube landing by Clark's head, then he pulls back on both knees, staring down at Clark. "Spread your legs for me."

Clark sucks in a breath, complying, and Lex strokes his thighs. Eyes closing tightly for a second before they open again. Lex swallows hard. "It'll hurt, but you'll like it."

Clark swallows hard, nodding, and Lex reaches for the tube, then grins, bright and sharp. "How much have you done?"

"What, you want a list?" Clark's lucky he's getting out sentences at this point. Lex laughs, fingers slipping to his inner thighs, almost tickling the sensitive skin in a way that's making Clark shudder. "I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're asking."

"Imagine my relief." Another sharp grin, then both his thighs are lifted, pushed over Lex's shoulders, and Lex ducks his head. Entirely not what Clark had in mind, and he lifts up on both elbows.

"Lex--oh." A slow lick to that little patch of skin, too careful to make him come though it's a close, close thing. "Lex, I--"

"I noticed. I think you'll like this." Clark can barely hear the muffled words before--oh God. God, Lex's tongue. That clever, sharp, ruthlessly gentle tongue slicking across his hole, shocking Clark almost upright before he realizes that movement like that will stop the feeling. Collapsing back into the mattress, he feels Lex's chuckle before he's doing it *again*. Slower, now, so Clark can really feel it, and this is--really new. Completely unlike anything he's done to himself, but Lex has a better angle and, well, that tongue. That tongue that's even slower, making a lazy circle around before pushing just a little, and Clark tenses, can't help it. Forcing himself down, closing his fingers over the bedspread, strangely harsh compared to Lex's skin.

Then a push that sucks the air from Clark's lungs--that's Lex's tongue inside him, curling, pressing, licking, slow and steady, and Clark might not be breathing anymore. Might never want to breathe again if it results in this.


That chuckle again, vibrating against hypersensitive skin, and warm thumbs open him, giving Lex access to do--oh God, more. Deeper, harder, thrusts and slow licks and twists that drive Clark's heels into Lex's back but he doesn't seem to notice.

Time loses meaning. Everything loses meaning that isn't centered in that place Lex is playing with, a perfectly ordinary area that's never hinted it could do things like *this*. Lex's tongue is in his ass like it's the most normal thing ever invented and Clark wonders vaguely, do people *know* about this? And why in the name of God aren't they doing it all the time?

He's twisting into it, every long lick and hard thrust, and this, he thinks a little vaguely, will be like having Lex's cock, maybe. Open and pushing and slick wetness and God, how is he doing it, coaxing sounds out of Clark's throat that aren't even possible. Whimpering, arching into it, more, please, he can feel sweat breaking out all over his body, and his cock aches, a pain so good he never wants it to stop.

He's begging now, he's sure of it.

Then something else--harder, Lex's finger, he's almost sure, and it hits something that wipes out even the memory of a life that doesn't include this. Clark chokes on air, grabbing for the sheets with both hands, and Lex's other hand closes over his cock, a rough, expert jack and Clark twists completely open, and fuck, he's screaming.

Screaming and moaning, coming so hard he can't see, can't hear anything but rushing sound. He can feel it everywhere, like every nerve is centered in his cock and ass, nipples and stomach and back and mouth, tingling, shocking, and Clark's not sure he's ever coming down. It goes on forever, his cock trapped in Lex's hand and his ass on Lex's tongue and nothing, nothing can be better than this.

Awareness comes back in slow fits and starts. Lex's hands smoothing over his chest, then the soothing warmth of fingers pressing inside him, a slow heat that tickles overheated nerves. Working him slowly, carefully, and he misses Lex's tongue but that mouth moves to his stomach, licking him clean, and Clark shudders at every lick.

"Clark." Soft and gentle, a hand on his face. "Come back to me here." Stroking his face, thumb across his mouth, and Clark sucks it in, running his tongue around the nail, almost smiling at the way Lex's breath catches. "Come on. I want you. I want you to be here for this."

Clark lets Lex pull his thumb away. "Here." Like Lex just didn't blow his mind, he opens his eyes, grinning. "You need something?"

Lex chuckles and brushes a kiss over his mouth. "Bastard." Then pulling back, arms behind his thighs, pushing them close to his chest. "Just relax. It'll only hurt for a second."

The blunt tip of Lex's cock pushes against him, and Clark breathes out, feeling Lex's eyes on him. Easing inside, stretching him open, and it's--wow, it's nothing like he expected. And Lex is so slow--God, Clark can't imagine what it takes to move like that, like he has all the time in the world when every muscle is tense, and Lex is biting his lip as he goes. A stretch that begins to burn, but Clark forces himself to relax, pulling his legs up close, trying to open up more, and Lex breathes out. "Almost there."

"Do it."

Lex shakes his head tightly. "You're not invulnerable anymore." A long stroke of his thighs, then Lex is working him open, pulling back a little to push again. Another inch, forcing a surprised gasp from Clark's throat, a sound from Lex that Clark's never heard before. "God, you're tight."

"Uh." Clark pulls his hands free of the sheet, reaching for Lex. Smooth shoulders to dig his fingers into, living flesh that twitches when he touches it, asking for more. "That's. Good?"

"Unbelievable." Another little thrust, opening him wider. The sharp burn fades a little as Lex pulls back, then Lex shifts, both hands on Clark's thighs. "Deep breath, Clark."

He has just enough time to do it before Lex thrusts--thrusts *hard*, pushing all the way inside, and it hurts, yes, God, yes, but he's still holding Lex's eyes even when he hisses, and he can feel the slap of Lex's balls against his ass. Completely filled, and Clark can't remember exactly what it was like not to be.

His cock twitches, making him wince a little--he's come twice in less than three hours, but apparently, Lex is good for all kinds of sexual inspiration and it's ready for another round. Lex, who holds completely still, waiting for him to adjust, and Clark squeezes his hands a little. "I'm okay."

Lex nods slowly, teeth freeing his lip, and Clark can see the blood. Can't help trying to reach him, and Lex shifts, Clark's thighs going around his waist, leaning forward for a kiss that tastes like copper and Clark and sex.

"Keep your legs here," Lex whispers, pulling out, and the next thrust makes Clark see stars. Sparks. Cock hardening against Lex's stomach, scraped with every thrust, and Clark pulls his knees up Lex's side, heels pushing into his back. He's going to leave bruises on Lex and he wants to, every place he's touched. "You're so beautiful, Clark."

Clark's breath catches. "You're so weird."

"It's called sex talk. Enjoy it." Another slow thrust, like Lex is getting the feel of his body, and Lex groans softly. "It's the most honest anyone ever is."

Clark arches at the next slow, almost lazy thrust. Lex braces both hands on the bed, close enough to breathe him in, and Clark watches sweat form on his forehead, the way the dark eyes close briefly every time. "Why not in Smallville? When we were kids?"

"Shouldn't have told you about the honesty part," Lex murmurs, licking his temple. The next thrust is a little harder. "I--didn't think you were ready."

He was probably right, too, but Clark tries to imagine refusing Lex. Imagines just once, Lex had reached out and touched him, if he would have pulled away. Even then, he doesn't think he would have.

"I would have, you know," Clark hears himself say. Lex is right. It's impossible to lie like this. Impossible when Lex is inside him and surrounding him and brushing soft kisses over his forehead and his face.

"Couldn't risk it." Another thrust, making Clark's teeth clench together. His cock's hard, loving every brush against Lex's stomach, almost arching to meet it.

"Risk?" And when Lex opens his eyes, Clark catches his breath. "Lex--"

"You were everything." And it hits just with the next thrust, with Lex's groan, and Clark winds his arms tighter, trying to breathe normally, trying to remember what normal is, then forgetting it. Maybe trying to crawl inside Lex's skin and stay there, never have to come out again. "You are everything, Clark."

Jesus. Lex kisses him, slow and sweet and ruthless, consuming his mouth, and Lex murmurs words into his neck, his jaw, his ear. Things that erase years of hate and anger and make them meaningless, because now, now is this. Them. The words trickle off and Clark's shuddering, shivering when Lex thrusts into him harder, pushing them both toward orgasm, as inevitably as this moment must have been after all the time apart.

Like being taken apart and put back together, and Clark holds on tighter when he comes, a slow build that's like falling and flying and perfect happiness, shuddering and gasping, Lex's voice in his ear, Lex's cock in his body, and he'd do it all over again, everything, he'd have done anything, if he'd known this was possible.

Lex, slick with sweat, warm, touchable, curled up around him, would have been all the reason he'd ever have needed.


Recs a little later. I avoided Social Obligations today. This pleases me NO end. Yippee for severe allergies! I will never complain about my nose bleeding again.

Okay, that's a lie, I will, but remind me when I do of this day. *grins*
Tags: fic: smallville 2002, sv: somewhere i have never traveled
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