This is my official call for someone, ANYONE, who knows physics or astronomy to email me, please? Working off my own limited education here COULD turn out scary. *grins* I dedicate the number of things I de-italicized to rivkat, because I am Discipling myself.
Right. Getting to the good stuff.
Lovely, gorgeous, oh-so-enabling ranalore made me a cover for my story!
*hugs hugely* Thank you SOOOO much. The sheer appropriateness of the quotes just entrance me. You totally rock.
Okay, now story.
Parts 1-11 can be found at Somewhere I Have Never Travelled. I'll update as I have time to convert and upload.
There's a chance he could be drunk.
More champagne at the opera. After that talk with Chloe, he'd needed it. But he'd forgotten, somehow, that with invulnerability went most of his resistance to alcohol. Dinner's at someone's house--a reception, Lex told him, for the cast, given by the governor's sister. Aperitifs, wine, and some sweet liqueur after capture his entire attention, and he knows he's talking too fast and laughing too loudly, but no one seems to mind.
Knows he's touching Lex *way* too much, just brushes against his shoulder or back or hand. On his thigh at dinner, making Lex smile over his wine and give him heated looks, and God, when Lex had pulled him into the hall after dinner, kissed him with the taste of red wine and smoke coating his mouth, Clark had--pretty much lost the battle against his libido.
He can barely remember meeting Elisa something or other, the woman who knew his mom, but then again, he *can* remember Lex murmuring in his ear that she was watching his ass when he went to the bathroom. Remembers sitting down on the arm of Lex's chair in this huge, dark den after dinner, fascinated by the thick, springy leather beneath him, and Lex playing with his fingers while someone was talking.
Remembers Lex's hand in his, leading him to the limo, and the casual goodbyes.
Which lead to--now. Now, with Lex warm and willing under him, jacket unbuttoned, sucking on Clark's tongue and hands under his shirt, arching against him with every thrust of his hips. Clark doesn't even care that Mercy's sitting back here with them.
So yeah, he's very drunk.
Sitting up, Clark braces himself on both hands, panting softly. Lex, mouth swollen, face flushed, watches him with hungry fascination.
"You've never been drunk, have you?" murmurs Lex, drawing his nails down Clark's back.
Clark hears himself make a sound disturbingly like a giggle. "Tried, in college. Didn't last very long. And--not like this." Leaning down again, he brushes a kiss across the full lips, tasting Lex's tongue eagerly. Slim fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, one of Lex's legs sliding around his.
Everything feels different when he's drunk. The fabric of Lex's tuxedo coat is rough and thready, catching interestingly on the pads of his fingers, but the shirt beneath is pure silk that flows over his hands like water. Nothing on Lex's skin, though, everywhere his mouth can touch, so silky-smooth his lips slide over it effortlessly. Lex keeps making these sounds, small and helpless and sweet, every time Clark bites.
"I made a terrible impression, didn't I?" Clark whispers, untucking Lex's shirt and getting his hands underneath.
"Perfect," Lex whispers. "You were perfect."
"Goofy," Clark mumbles against the wet flesh of Lex's throat. "Hick."
"Gorgeous. Untouchable. Mine." And like that, he's on his back, Lex straddling his thighs, cock to cock. Rocking into him deliberately, expertly unfastening bow tie and collars, biting the bruises from the night before.
"Lex." His voice is shaking. He can't possibly be this hard this fast. It's against the laws of man and god, has to be. One hard kiss, a thrust of his tongue, and Lex pushes himself off, falling back to the seat with a deep breath. Damn. Clark forces himself to sit up, but Lex only pulls him gently back down until Clark's head is in his lap, long fingers stroking through his hair.
"You're going to be so sick," Lex murmurs. "Just wait until I can get some water into you."
Oh damn, another less than fun side effect. Sighing, Clark nods, enjoying the rasp of the material against his cheek.. Rubbing against it, feeling kind of like a cat. He's getting why animals *do* this so often against furniture and trash cans.
"…anything to report?" Lex is saying.
"No disturbances, sir."
"Lex." Mercy doesn't sound comfortable saying it. Clark closes his eyes, letting the dizziness slide over him like a warm blanket. Wonderful. He should definitely do this more often. "Is there anything else, Lex?"
"Tell me when we get home." A slow ruffle of Clark's hair follows, affectionate and soothing. Clark burrows closer. "It would be a lot more convenient if you lived with me, you know," Lex says to him softly, tracing his ear with one finger.
Clark grins and rolls on his back, staring up at Lex. "Okay, now you're freaking *me* out, and I don't *have* commitment issues. Lex, what is *with* you?"
Lex smiles his most blinding smile. "Clark. I like to move fast when I find something I want."
"There's fast and then there's the speed of light." Clark catches Lex's hand, drawing it to his mouth, licking the closest finger. Lex tenses wonderfully.
"I'm making up for lost time," Lex murmurs, leaning down to brush a kiss against Clark's forehead. "You have no tolerance for alcohol, do you?"
"None at all." Sitting up, Clark scoots backwards into Lex's lap, stopping his next words with a kiss. "I want you."
"I want to make sure you don't pass out on me tonight," Lex murmurs, but his hand is sliding in Clark's shirt again, flattening against his stomach. Clark smothers a groan and kisses again, wet and messy, putting his whole body into it. He can feel how hard Lex is under his leg and trails his fingers down the still-buttoned shirt, pausing at the waist.
Grins into darkening eyes and lets his fingers slide down, tracing the hard line of his erection through the pants.
"We're here, sir." Mercy, voice so neutral that you'd never think she was witnessing her boss being seduced right in front of her.
"Okay." Lex's voice, gravelly and low, widens Clark's grin. "Check for--"
"Security reports it's secure."
Lex's hands are in his hair, drawing him back down, a kiss slow and deep and impossibly sexy. He pulls back when the door opens, and Lex takes a sharp breath.
Climbing out of a limo with a painfully interested erection just isn't anywhere near easy, and Lex doesn't look too thrilled about it either. Mercy follows them into the elevator, rustling softly as she keeps a comfortable distance, enough for Clark to pretend she isn't there. Enough for Clark to feel absolutely comfortable running his hands down Lex's back, hands going to slim hips, pulling Lex back against him, sucking just behind his ear.
"Clark." Murmured, hands covering his, but definitely not pulling away. Definitely nothing like it, rubbing up against him through his pants, and Clark shudders, biting down into the thin skin of Lex's throat. "You're going to kill me."
Whatever. Like he doesn't know Lex's sex drive by now. Grinning, Clark runs his tongue over the bite in soft apology, finding another spot to worry with his teeth.
The ding of the elevator is a huge annoyance.
"Fuck," Clark murmurs, drawing back, but the hands on his stop him from moving too far. Mercy goes out first--hmm, this is new--then Lex follows after a single glance, pulling Clark behind him.
Mercy's the one to put in the codes, unlocking the door for them, and as they pass her, Clark hears her murmuring something into her headset. Code. Probably something like, Elvis is in the building, or, the pigeon has landed. Penguin maybe?
Lex is looking at him funny when he starts giggling.
"Come on, let's get some water in you," Lex murmurs, grinning back. Two lefts and they're in the darkened kitchen. Lex flips on the low lights over the island, kicking off his shoes as he pads to the refrigerator.
Cool tile and metal under his hands. Clark looks around the room with purely human eyes. Too dark to see clearly, though it's huge and imposing, like the one at the castle in Smallville. More modern, though, and then a bottle of water is pressed into his hand.
"Drink all of it," Lex murmurs into his ear. "Trust me, hangovers are no fun at all."
"You've had them?" With Lex's healing, he'd think--
"Yes." Lex opens the bottle Clark's holding and pushes it toward his mouth. "With application and dedication, it's perfectly possible for me to get very, very drunk."
Clark takes a drink, watching Lex watch him. "I want to see."
"Me drunk?" Lex's own bottle of water is forgotten on the counter--hands on either side, trapping Clark. "I can arrange that." Lex leans forward, brushing his lips against the exposed skin of Clark's collar. "Finish the bottle."
As quickly as he can, oh yeah. Clark nods, shivering with every light, almost chaste touch of lips on skin, feeling a little dizzy and too hard to think. The water's gone before he knows it, leaving his hands empty--totally unacceptable. Much better to reach for Lex, turn them around, lifting him easily onto the counter with simple human strength.
Simple, easy, and Clark fixes his gaze on the bulge in dark trousers, breathing sharply through his nose.
"Clark." Breathless. A plea and a demand and a question all at once. The belt comes loose almost too easily, making up for the inner and outer buttons that refuse to come loose. Clark stares at them hard, wondering if ripping is an option. "Here. Let me--"
Elegant, shaking fingers--that's hot, knowing Lex wants him that much, hot to watch Lex, careless of expensive material and dignity, and Clark hears himself make an unrecognizable sound when Lex gets the zipper down, pushing Lex's hands aside. Taking the waist of the pants, Clark pulls down sharply, Lex lifting enough to help. Boxers next, and then hands are in his hair and Clark goes down with relief.
Fast, hard stretch of his mouth, heavy weight on his tongue, and that taste--free of the perfumes and scents of smoke and dinner and a night out, just Lex and some powdery soap, and Clark swallows, taking him completely. Loves the way Lex mutters, fingers twisting in Clark's hair, little breathless pleas and snatches of sentences that are half gasp, half groan. Lex, arching into him and holding tight and Clark feels it, all of it. Sharp pulls of his hair that go straight to his cock, bruising roughness of fucking his mouth on Lex's cock, raw and addictive and perfect. Holding Lex's thighs open with both hands, tight and hard, humming softly when he feels Lex stretch out on the counter. The visuals in his head are hot, but he'd love to see this, see Lex's face and Lex's body now, twisting and arching, growling and helpless.
He works a finger into his mouth, getting it wet, half-high off the sounds he's getting out of Lex. More than high off being able to do this at all. Lex twists again and Clark pulls up his legs, working the damp finger in slow circles around his hole, ignoring the difficulties of pants that keep trying to get in the way.
Pulling off, Clark laughs at the sound of Lex's shocked gasp.
"Don't you dare stop."
Shoes, off. Socks, gone. Pants and boxers, discarded on the floor, and Lex is just lying there, half-naked, gorgeous and flushed and hard and almost pleading, but not quite. Clark presses Lex's heels up onto the counter, spread thighs an invitation, sucking two fingers deliberately into his mouth. Lex's eyes are on him with utter, perfect focus, drowning everything else out.
"Clark--" And God, Lex is whining, completely sexy. Clark laughs again, leaning close enough to breathe on the blood darkened head, letting his fingers tease lightly at Lex's sac before sliding behind. Just---playing, tongue coming out to lick lightly, and Lex arches, trying to get more. "Son of a bitch…."
"Shhh." Goes down and pushes both fingers in at the same time--sweet stretch and Lex's voice cuts off on an indrawn hiss, hips pushing against him. Lex's hands in his hair again, and it's like begging, don't stop, never stop, and Clark wonders how long he can keep Lex like this, twisting and gasping and needy. Maybe for a long time, maybe forever, and both sound great.
But. A twist of his fingers and he swallows, and Lex arches hard, almost impossible to keep him down, a ragged yell that's some corruption of Clark's name, coming hard. Clark pulls back enough to catch the taste, sucking, drawing out the shudders and gasps, then bringing him back down, slow and sweet.
Half-tempting, the idea of just crawling up on the counter and curling all around Lex, but Clark contents himself with a grin buried in Lex's stomach, riding out the shudders.
Long, long moments before the hands in his hair loosen, lazily petting.
"Jesus Christ," Lex murmurs, and Clark turns enough to look up. Dazed blue eyes, red mouth, and slick, flushed skin. "You--" A breathless chuckle follows, and Clark gives up, knee on the edge of the counter, bracing himself on his elbows over Lex, leaning down to kiss him. Still hard, but he can wait for Lex to catch up again. Slick arms slide around him, working under tuxedo jacket and shirt, hands sliding up and down his back. "I should get you drunk more often."
Clark grins, carefully lowering himself until he can feel Lex, bare skin and ruined tux. Closes his eyes and listens to the slowing beat of Lex's heart.
Drunk can be pretty damn good.
*breathing* Okay. I was stupid. I looked at the word count. Tell me not to do that again, kay?
*hugs* And thanks to everyone for the support so far. I appreciate it immensely. It's like really good butter on the Discipline asparagus.