Archive of Our Own ^beta

Project III: Understand
by Te
October 2001

Disclaimers: If they belonged to me, good days would take on a whole new meaning.

Spoilers: None, really.

Summary: Clark needs an escape hatch.

Ratings Note: NC-17.

Author's Note: Follows pretty directly on Projects I and II, which, for now, can be found here:

http://strangeplaces.net/te/blog.html

Acknowledgments: For V, who gave me a thrill ride, and Lisa for staying up to listen to me ramble. And Deb for being dykenip.

Feedback makes the day all shiny. [email protected]

*

Clark is still in love with Lana.

He knows this, understands it as clearly as the day when he'd tugged her pigtails and ran away (gently, so gently, never forget, never forget) and she'd looked at him sadly instead of hitting him back.

He remembers her eyes that day, wide and wondering and so betrayed.

He remembers how desperately important it had seemed that he never, ever make her look like that again, though he'd felt too wound and ashamed to apologize. Hot tightness in his chest and face.

She'd started wearing the chain the day after that, and Clark's old enough now to understand that the look on her face had more to do with her parents than anything he'd done, but.

Lana shines for him, smart and kind and beautiful, so beautiful.

Sad as he imagines himself, sometimes, and Clark has had more fantasies than he can count of just making her smile. Holding her when she hurt.

Too many nights wondering what she could be doing with Whitney of all people, and days, and stumbling, bumbling weak in the face of it all. Love.

And looking at her beautiful face today had brought everything he'd done the day before rushing back in a wave. Clark has no idea what he managed to stammer out, but he's barely aware that he's upright. Barely aware of anything but the soft, low question in his head.

Can I kiss you, he'd asked, and Clark's blushing hard. Looking like nothing but the idiot he always is, has always been when it comes to Lana, who smiles at him over her shoulder as she runs to join the other cheerleaders.

And it feels like he's cheating. Like he's cheated already, stupid as that is, and oh, God, with a man.

Memory of all that smooth, ice-white skin. Offered to him so easily, like there was nothing Lex wanted more than Clark's hands on his body.

His body, and maybe Lana's parents really do talk to her. Lana's "Dad's" little joke like a bone in his throat, now that he's done.

That.

And liked it. God, so much. Thankful for his baggy jeans and blushing to even think of it, and Pete just spending the whole day teasing him about Lana.

As if she'd ever. As if he could ever ask for what Lex had given him without a moment's hesitation.

Searing image of Lex above him, Clark's fingers in his mouth, and then asking to...

In the bathroom between periods, splashing cold water on his face and wishing for the privacy of his loft, parents somewhere in the next county and likely to stay there for hours while Clark touched himself and tried to think of anything but the way Lex looked at him.

Somewhere between starved and amused and --

"Well, if it isn't the scarecrow. How's it hanging, Clark?"

Whitney.

"Real funny, Whitney." On the bright side, he's not thinking about Lex anymore. Or maybe just Lex running Whitney over with one of his cars.

Guilt like a vise around his stomach and the perfect, vivid image of how Lana would look. Clark dries his face and makes to leave, only to find Whitney blocking the door.

Great. Public humiliation scene, take nine thousand four hundred and twelve. "Were you planning on moving anytime soon or do you just like checking out my ass?" Which comes out way easier than it should and the look on Whitney's face is so priceless that Clark almost forgets to blush.

Almost.

"What, you like that shit, Clark? Christ, I should've known. Fucking --"

"Hey, I'm not the one who likes stripping teenaged boys and tying them to poles, Whit."

Shoulders past him before he says anything stupid enough to get himself into a fight he'd probably have to lose and the halls are packed.

Post-lunch procrastination with all the cool kids and the kids trying to be cool hanging out. Desperate to be almost the last ones to class and it feels like everyone's looking.

Like everyone knows what he was doing yesterday, and just how hard it was to stop touching Lex once he'd started. Like he'd always imagined a woman would feel, only hard and sleek all over and oh, yeah.

He's definitely earned himself all sorts of torment.

The football team will probably come up with entirely new traditions for this, just for him.

Chloe spends the entire sixth period giving him those narrow-eyed, fox-faced looks she usually reserves for something she thinks is newsworthily bizarre.

And if the shoe fits... Chloe has always been disturbingly accurate about that kind of thing, always wanting to know things, everything, even if she didn't usually bother to put the effort into her actual schoolwork.

Cheating on her, too, isn't he? Or lying, at least. One more entry for her Wall of Weird.

Lex calling himself a freak and pretending he didn't mean it. Badly. Something Clark understands the way he understands breathing, the simple fact of something that had to be done.

No escape.

But Clark hadn't had to think of anything yesterday. Anything at all.

Lex's mouth like a brand.

Lana's eyes in the back of his mind as he speeds through the cornfields to the Luthor mansion, and Clark doesn't think he knows what he wants.

Hesitating at the huge wooden doors until Mrs. Jansen bursts through with three of her assistants in tow, almost knocking him down the stairs. The owner of the Smallville Jolly Maid Service never moved slower than a brisk near-jog as near as Clark could tell, and now stared up at him with a wide and deeply curious grin that makes Clark want to bolt for the fields again.

"Why, Clark! Whatever are you doing here?"

Clark has learned that telling yourself not to blush pretty much never works. "Oh, uh, I'm ah. Returning a book. To the library. Lex's library." His smile feels as sickly as he does.

"Oh, well that's nice. It's good to see young people taking an interest in school, I always say." Pause while she and her crew pin Clark to the spot with their interest. "So you and Mr. Luthor are friends?"

"Oh, ah. Um..."

"Is anything the matter, Mrs. Jansen? Oh, Clark! Good to see you again."

And this is going to get back to his father in approximately thirty-seven seconds, but God, right now he just needs... Sends a pleading look Lex's way.

Lex raises an eyebrow, but turns smoothly to the cleaners. "I'm so glad I caught you all before you could go. I just saw what you did with the conservatory, and, well... I don't think I've ever seen it look as... clean as it is now. Please, accept this with my thanks." Slips her a small bundle of what are probably sizable bills and smiles.

Suddenly, no one's paying attention to Clark at all.

"Oh, Mr. Luthor --"

"Call me Lex."

"Well, I... Lex, then. Really, you've already been quite generous..."

"Nonsense, Mrs. Jansen. You all really did a marvelous job. Now, if you'll excuse me...?"

"Oh, of course! I'm sure you have a lot of work to do, what with all... well, yes. We'll just be going. Bye, Clark! Tell your parents I said hi!"

Clark waves weakly and struggles to smile, slipping gratefully into the cool dimness of the house when Lex gestures.

"Thanks, Lex. You just saved me from the third degree. Mrs. Jansen is nice, but..." And notices that Lex is in his jacket and driving gloves. "Oh, God, I'm sorry, you were about to go somewhere, and I just turn up on your doorstep --" "Clark."Lex's eyes on his, serious and unreadable. "Yeah?"

Lex's hand on his face, cool leather no smoother than his skin and Clark remembers the feel of it against his body -- "... all right?"

"Hunh? I mean. Yeah. Just... you know. I really can't wait for high school to be over sometimes."

Low and mostly humorless chuckle. "I can't say I blame you for that... but think of it this way, Clark -- high school is absolutely the last place you'll ever have to see most of... whoever is making life difficult at the moment. Savor it."

"Last place? You really have no idea how life works in a small town, do you, Lex?"

"You were planning to spend the rest of your life here?"

"Well... yeah." Lana. "I mean, there's the farm..."

Lex just nods slowly and moves closer, black clothes emphasizing just how pale he is and. "You know, life decisions don't have to be made immediately. It's kind of the... beauty of them." And Lex is close enough now to share breath. Again.

"Lex..."

Lex brushes his thumb over Clark's cheek once, lips parted and studying his face. Slips his hand around to the back of Clark's neck. "I have to say, Clark..." spoken against his mouth, "I'm really glad to see you."

And the kiss that comes is too good not to fall into, some part of his mind shocked that the rest had even thought of trying. Lex kissed like he knew he was wonderful at it, and had all day to get it right if it wasn't absolutely perfect.

Hot and hard and not teasing at all, just an invitation to take what was offered. Be taken and Clark wants to give, wants to know what would make Lex feel like he feels now, and if there was any possible way he could do it for him. Wants his skin like the sun, and reaches to cup Lex's face in his hands. Runs one a little helplessly over the simple curve of his skull and down to the open throated shirt. Breaks the kiss and dips his head to taste there, salt tang and Lex's pulse against his tongue, remembering the feel of wet, soft lips against his own throat. So good.

Kissing there when Lex just pulls his head closer, when Lex slips one gloved hand under Clark's shirts and touches him.

Slips cool fingers up and down his spine and Clark shivers. Moans and gets dragged closer. Ridiculous to still be wearing his backpack and all he wants to do is fall to the floor and God, touch like this.

Sex like nothing he'd imagined, visceral and sweet to the point of pain.

And Lex's scent like a drug, like the most expensive cologne in the world, only it just gets stronger as Clark mouths, as Lex touches him. Drags his teeth half-accidentally across Lex's skin and the gasp he gets makes him bite down. "God, Clark --"

Pulls back and kisses Lex with all he is, unable to close his eyes because Lex has.

Kissing him back hotly and Clark wants.

"Can we... can we?"

"Yes. Absolutely yes. Come upstairs with me?"

Nods and follows, hard. Harder when Lex looks over his shoulder at him with something like promise. He couldn't turn back if he tried.

Clark strips off his sweaters almost absently. Lex's bedroom seems less vast than it did yesterday. Something with the sheets being removed from the rest of the furniture. Something with the tight, hot feeling of belonging here.

Needing to be here for this, to try to make his clumsy fingers understand buttons again, to get to Lex's body and just touch.

Sleek and pale like something utterly unearthly. Gloved fingers he wants to suck and the thought makes his knees watery, makes it hard to even focus, but Lex is there, biting his lip and licking his throat and leaving Clark swaying while he pulls his shirt off himself.

Nipples pale pink against all that white and Clark is frozen between wanting to touch them, pinch them the way Lex had done his own, and needing to be naked.

Decision made when Lex undoes his belt, black leather arcing across the room to hit the floor with a sound Clark can barely hear over the pound of blood in his ears.

Has to get close again, smell him, touch him, kiss him quick and "you said... you said I could touch you h-however..."

"However, whenever you want, Clark,"

Lex's voice low and hoarse and rough against every part of him and Clark can't breathe, can't think, oh thank you, can't think at all. Drops to his knees just as Lex is unzipping his fly and the scent of him makes Clark moan.

Push his face close in and nuzzle what must be pure silk. The heat of Lex beyond.

"Clark, you -- oh, fuck."

Tugs the flap out the way and Lex is hard. For him. And Clark wants to know, wants to live inside the memory of Lex's mouth on his cock and never leave. Takes him in hand and opens his mouth, flushing and leaking pre-come when Lex thrusts at him, this little push like Lex can't help himself.

Wants him.

Sucks the head into his mouth, tongue screaming ecstatic and terrified at the taste. Lex's still-gloved hand in his hair and Clark's own need to be blown away, taken some place completely other than where he's been.

Lex looking down into his eyes and Clark is pleading again, needing again.

Show me, he thinks, and licks the scar, tongues at the slit for more of everything, and Lex. Thrusts.

Slick friction and the push and Clark is drooling a little now, hoping for more and getting it when he takes more of Lex in, some primally maddening safety with his fist around the base of Lex's cock and none anywhere else.

Lex finding a rhythm that makes Clark ache all over, the phantom of some pain he has no name for, pushing and thrusting, over and over and Clark thinks he might be moaning for it now. Blushing and unable to stop and needing this to be good, so good --

And Lex pushes him off, shock of it making him sit on his heels and he only just manages to look a needful question before Lex is coming, god, all over his chest.

"Clark..." Lex stroking himself almost brutally through the shudders and Clark feels.

Marked.

Lex still with the gloves on and Clark has to get his jeans open, has to free himself, one hand in the slick, hot mess on his chest and. Tastes.

Lex.

Looks up to find Lex watching him, watching him suck the come off his fingers and touch himself and wants to hide, wants to do it all again, and again, and it's almost like freedom to be so lost in his own need. Knowing Lex won't let him go too far. Lex who sinks to his knees in front of him and kisses and kisses and pushes at him until they're stretched out on the floor, a tangle of bodies and clothes and everything Clark wants to beg for.

Lex's mouth on Clark's belly and chest, bite to his nipple that makes him groan and rub frantically up against him.

Lex rolling them over and urging Clark on and the slide of cock to cock makes him shake and he can't stop, chanting Lex's name like it's the only word left and thrusting against him. Needing some indefinable more and finally just rolling them on their sides so he can get as close as he wants, hold Lex still while he urges Clark on and piston his hips.

Bury his face in that pale, salt throat and bite again, and again, until Lex slides one cool, cool finger between his cheeks and. Teases. Circles and the softest pressure and Clark yells against Lex's throat and comes, jerking and shuddering.

Lays there clinging to Lex for what he suspects is much too long before he can bring himself to let go, roll over on his back.

Lex looking cool and pale and perfect again, save for the darkening red blotch on his neck. Smiling like a hungry animal.

"Feeling better, Clark?"

Blushing again. "I. Oh... um. Yeah. Yeah, I am. Lex, when you started... when you were in my mouth..."

Gloved thumb pressing at his lower lip and Clark feels his cock wanting to twitch. "Did you like it?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I..." Sucks Lex's thumb into his mouth for lack of actual language. Leather under the taste of him like new and powerful knowledge.

Lex's eyes like fire. "I hope you don't think you're going anywhere, Clark."

Lex's thumb pressing his tongue down before slipping out of his mouth, shiny with spit. "I. No. I don't have to be home for a while."

"Perfect."

And Lex's kiss doesn't demand anything more than what Clark needs to give, which means it's hard, and deep, and chases everything away but itself and this moment between them.

Clark has never felt so light.

End.