scribblinlenore | Ficlet: The Declaration

I found this languishing on my hard drive, and I had a sentimental rush of affection for the innocent old days when I honestly couldn't see how Lex would ever go bad or there could be a rift. This has a definite season one feel to it, and it's absolute fluff, expanded from a drabble I wrote.

The Declaration
by Lenore

It took Clark sixteen years and Lana breaking up with him because she was convinced he was in love with Lex before he even considered the possibility that he might be gay. It took only five minutes, though, once he really started to think about how good Lex looked in those tight black pants of his to come to grips with the truth.

"You should just tell him," Lana counseled, with a note of resignation in her voice.

"I can't do that. How do I know he's even--"

"He is."

"But how do you--"

"Clark, he owns more pastel clothing than I do."

"Well--" It was hard to argue with that. "Even so. That doesn't mean he wants to--"

"He does."

"What makes you so sure?"

She made an "oh, please!" face. "Do you pay any attention to how he looks at you?"

Clark searched his memory, and come to think of it, there was this glance Lex sometimes cast in his direction, lean and hungry, like he'd missed lunch and dinner and breakfast the day before and Clark looked like a tasty snack.

"Oh," he said, blushing.

"Yeah." Lana didn't actually roll her eyes, but she looked like she wanted to.

"But what do I say? How do I-- I can't just storm into the mansion and make some big declaration."

She waved her hand impatiently. "Just go talk to him, Clark. You'll figure it out. Besides, I'm sure he already knows. He's probably just been waiting for you to wake up and smell the Judy Garland records."

Lana's mixed metaphor didn't exactly make sense, but it was still oddly convincing.

"I'm going to do it! I'm going to go see Lex."

"Yay for you." It came out only a little bitterly. "I'm going to--" She sighed. "Go sell some coffee."

Clark had every intention of going to Lex's right then. He even super-speeded out Route 11 heading for the mansion. But then it struck him that Lana's speak-from-your-heart strategy might not work quite so well for someone as given to stammering as he was. He slowed down to a walk. He really needed to collect his thoughts before approaching Lex, settle on a plan--hell, even write a script, if that's what it took. He turned back toward the farm. He'd waited this long. He could wait a few days more to make sure he was really ready.

He spent the next week gearing up--that's what he called it, not terrified procrastination--trying to picture it all, the talk and the afterwards. It was the afterwards that made it particularly hard for him to breathe. His sexual encounters with girls had been--well, clumsy was a word that came to mind, and he knew next to nothing about sex between guys. Not to mention that Lex was-- well, Lex.

It didn't make it any easier that the entire school expected him to be in mourning about the breakup with Lana. Any time Pete saw her in the halls, he would clap Clark on the back and whisper: "Hang in there, man." Even Chloe looked sorry for him. At times, Clark felt guilty, like he was committing fraud or something. Other times, he was simply annoyed that people kept interrupting the love speeches he was trying to compose in his head.

On the big day, when he'd finally worked up his nerve, he slipped through the opening in the fence at the mansion just as he always did, although his heart was pounding like it never had before. He went in through the kitchen, nodded to Mrs. Timmons, the housekeeper, and headed down the hall to Lex's study.

He hovered in the doorway, waiting for Lex to notice him, his palms sweating so much he had to wipe them on his jeans. When Lex did finally look up and smile, Clark's throat did an imitation of the Sahara, and he had the sudden fear he might not be able to speak at all.

"Hey, Clark," Lex said. "Come in."

Clark managed to walk across the room even though he couldn't really feel his legs. He was too nervous to sit, but he didn't know quite where to stand, either. Directly across from Lex seemed more like a confrontation than a declaration of passion, but then standing beside Lex seemed too forward, as if he were taking Lex's answer for granted. He ended up halfway around the corner of the desk, fidgeting awkwardly, wishing he could have just one important conversation in his life without feeling like an idiot.

"Don't you want to sit down?" Lex's eyes were bright with curiosity.

"No. I, uh--" He shifted his weight nervously. "There's something I need to ask you."

Lex's features sharpened, the way he looked when he was about to negotiate a business deal. "Okay. Go ahead. Ask." His voice was carefully controlled, giving nothing away. Not for the first time, Clark envied his cool.

Clark had considered and rejected many opening lines. Lana and I broke up might seem as if Lex were merely a consolation prize. Hey, guess what? I'm gay could sound like this was some inconsequential I'm-new-to-the-whole-homosexual-thing experimentation, which was so not the case. I've wanted to fuck you since forever, only I never quite realized it just plain sounded bad.

Lex arched an eyebrow at him, bemused and waiting.

"It's just--" He cleared his throat. "There comes a time when you're ready to-- you know. And there's someone special that you want to be with. But you're kind of worried. Because you want it to be special. Perfect. Only you haven't done it before. Well, not that particular-- you know. And you want to-- God. You really, really want to. Only you're kind of embarrassed, because you might not be any good at it and--" He stalled, helplessly.

How had he ended up sounding like his father trying to explain the birds and the bees? Why had his carefully planned declaration of desire devolved into a confession that he might not be very good in bed?

Lex tilted his head. "Clark, just to clarify. We are talking about sex here, right?"

Clark's face went hot. "Yeah," he mumbled.

"And you're telling me that you're ready for your first time?"

His cheeks burned even hotter. "Yes."

"But you're concerned about a lack of experience getting in the way?"

He nodded, growing more embarrassed by the moment. Clearly, blurting out his worst insecurities was not the best way to woo a boyfriend.

"And you think I can help with that?"

"Oh, definitely." Clark had no doubt that however lacking in skill he himself might be, Lex would more than make up for it.

Lex leaned back in his chair. "I see."

Clark met his eyes hopefully. "You do?"

"When you're in love with someone, the first time is important."

"It is. And I just want it to be--"

"I'm sure it'll be good, Clark."

Clark blinked. Will be. Had Lex just agreed to make love with him?

"You mean, you--"

"I'll do everything I can to help."

For a second, Clark forgot how to breathe. "You will?" He blinked.

"I do have some expertise in this area."

"I know." The idea of Lex using that expertise on him made him go hot and gooey in odd places. "That's why I was worried--"

"Just trust me."

"I do. I always have. I just want--" He moved closer. "Can we--"

"I'll need a little time," Lex said.

"Time?" Clark repeated, as if he'd never heard the word before.

"There are preparations to make."

Clark's face went scarlet. Preparations. That took time. God, there must be a lot he didn't know about what men did together.

Lex smiled, but there was something hard in his eyes, too. Clark could only hope it was impatience, because that was certainly what he was feeling.

"Come back tomorrow," Lex said. "Same time."

"Okay." Clark could feel the sweat beading along the back of his neck. "Tomorrow."

He hoped he wouldn't spontaneously combust before then.

***

The next twenty-four hours were the longest of Clark's life. Every small tick of the minute hand on the clock felt like an eternity. The night was the worst. He couldn't sleep, a restless, itchy feeling on his skin that drove him half out of his mind. In the morning, he sat slumped over his cereal bowl at the breakfast table without the least interest in eating. At school, he stared into space and didn't even hear Mr. Roberts as he droned on about European history.

When the bell rang at the end of the day, he practically ran from the building.

At the castle, the butler met him at the door. "Mr. Luthor asked me to send you upstairs, Mr. Kent."

"Uh. Okay."

"Third door on the left from the top of the landing."

"Thanks."

He took the stairs two at a time, partly out of eagerness, partly to get away from the butler's knowing eyes. He counted the third door, and the air went out of his enthusiasm like a deflated balloon. It was a bedroom, but not Lex's.

Clark stopped, suddenly overcome with doubt. Maybe this wasn't what he'd thought. Maybe Lex was simply taking pity on a friend, giving him a tutorial in sex between men, the way he'd helped Clark with his science project and that term paper last year on Winston Churchill.

The possibility was truly appalling, but he couldn't just leave. Couldn't stand Lex up, not when-- He took a deep breath and knocked at the door.

"Come in." The deep timbre of Lex's voice rattled around in the pit of Clark's stomach even with the thick oak door separating them.

Inside, Lex was standing at the other end of the room by the windows. So was a woman. She was very pretty, Lex's type, tall with long, dark hair that moved over her shoulders whenever she turned her head.

"Clark," Lex said.

He shifted his weight awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize--"

"Come in, come in." Lex waved to him. "Let me introduce you to Genevieve."

Clark's disappointment was intensely physical, sucking him under like quicksand as he trudged across the hard polished floor to shake Genevieve's hand.

"Nice to meet you," he mumbled shyly.

"The pleasure is all mine, Clark." Her voice was breathy and low and kind of dirty, and it made Clark stare.

"Well, I won't keep you from it," Lex said. "Enjoy yourself, Clark."

Lex headed for the door, and Clark started to panic.

"Lex. What--"

"Your first time, like I promised."

Genevieve ran her fingers up Clark's bare arm, and he practically jumped out of his skin.

"No!"

Genevieve pulled her hand back. Lex looked startled

"Don't go," Clark said, desperately.

"You want Lex to watch?" Genevieve asked, sounding both surprised and rather interested in the prospect.

Clark shook his head miserably.

Genevieve narrowed her eyes. "Or maybe you just want Lex?" she said, quietly enough that only he could hear.

He blushed fiercely.

Genevieve patted his arm. "It's okay. I think we can arrange that." There was amusement in her voice. "Looks like you won't be needing my services after all, Lex." She winked at Clark. "Have fun."

Lex watched her disappear through the door with a look of profound confusion.

"I thought this was what you wanted," Lex said. "Experience so it would be good the first time with Lana."

"No. I thought you understood. That you'd figured it out before I did and were just waiting for me to open my eyes and listen to the show tunes." Lex only looked more bewildered, and Clark took a deep breath. "Lana and I broke up, and we'd already had sex anyway. And I'd slept with Jessie and Kyla before her." He hurried through the explanation, his face turning red. "It wasn't-- I'm pretty sure I'm--"

Lex frowned. "But you asked me to help."

Clark covered the distance between them. "You." He put his hand on Lex's cheek. "Not someone else. Not some woman. Not someone you're paying." He stroked Lex's soft skin with his thumb. "Just you."

Lex seemed to be holding his breath. "I don't think you know what you're saying."

He didn't pull away, though, and that made Clark bolder.

"Yes, I do. I want--"

It was easier just to do it than try to explain. He was nervous, and the kiss was off-balance, clumsy. But still, it was Lex, Lex's lips against his, Lex's taste in his mouth, and he couldn't pull himself away, kissing until his head started to spin.

Lex finally broke away, panting harshly. "No. Clark. We can't-- Look, you're just confused. You're--"

"Gay. And I'm in love with you."

"Christ, Clark." Lex's eyes were all pupil, practically black, and they shimmered.

The seconds stretched out as Lex stood there watching him, making up his mind. Finally, he reached for Clark's hand. "Come on."

Lex pulled him to the door, and Clark was too surprised to resist. Shit. What had he done wrong? Was he just an idiot to have mentioned the love thing? Fuck. He had a sudden picture of Lex leading him down to the study, making him sit on the sofa, while he kindly explained that he didn't return Clark's feelings. If people did actually die of humiliation, Clark was not going to make it out of this alive.

But Lex didn't go to the stairs. He headed for another door down the hall, and Clark's heart started to pound. Because that was Lex's room.

Clark only knew this because he'd once used his x-ray vision, not very nobly, to find out where it was. He'd never been inside. So he was surprised to find that it was simpler than the rest of the house, almost plain, except for the massive bed that stood in the center of the room, an architectural fantasy in wrought iron. Like an altar. Or a stage.

The possibilities made Clark sweat. All his earlier doubt came flooding back, a veritable tidal wave of panic. Being with Lex in real life was so much more intense then even his stickiest, most heart-pounding wet dream, and he didn't have a clue what he was supposed to do.

Fortunately, Lex had a strong take-charge streak. He pushed Clark roughly back against the wall, pressed their bodies together and bit him sharply on the neck.

"God," Clark groaned, instantly hard.

It was the end of doubt.

"I was going to fuck her afterwards while she still smelled like you." Lex's voice was thick and dark like something you could roll around in. "Have I ever mentioned how much I enjoy cutting out the middle man, Clark?"

"Shit."

That was all the response he could manage, because Lex was on him, kissing and licking and pressing his hard-on against Clark's hip.

"I want to suck you," Lex said between kisses. "And then fuck you. Okay?"

"Shit."

His inability to say anything else was beginning to make Clark feel stupid again, but Lex let out a sound as if this was exactly what he'd been waiting to hear. He made quick work of Clark's pants and fell to his knees. Clark didn't even have a chance to gasp Lex's name before his hot, wet mouth was on him, and then all he could do was bang his head hard against the wall and try to hold on.

Lex's wicked tongue teased him in all the right places, and Clark bucked up wildly. He had the savage urge to shove his cock into Lex's throat, want sizzling through him, desperate and vicious. Lex stared up at him, eyes sharp, sparkling, as if he knew exactly what Clark wanted. And liked it. Liked it very much.

Lex sucked him harder, cupped his balls and rolled them gently in his palm. Clark was lucky by this point to manage even a half-garbled curse.

He thrashed his head against the wall and dug his fingers into the plaster, leaving deep gouges. There would be things to explain later, but he couldn't care. He came so violently it made his head hurt, his knees give out. A strong arm went around his waist, eased him down. He pressed his face into Lex's neck, breathing in warm, salty skin.

The fingers that moved through his hair were gentle, but Clark could feel the hard, insistent need thrumming through Lex. He pulled back. A little smear at the corner of Lex's mouth, and he licked it away, his taste tangled up with Lex's, making him dizzy all over again.

"Get on the bed," Lex said, his voiced strained.

Clark got up, a little unsteadily, and crossed the room.

Lex moved surprisingly quickly and was suddenly pressed against his back, breathing hotly against his ear. "I want you naked."

Clark sucked in a shaky breath. "Shit."

Lex's laugh was deep and a little dangerous, and then his hands were all over Clark, pulling at his clothes, frantically, carelessly, seams ripping, buttons scattering.

"I'll buy you a new one," Lex murmured.

Clark didn't care. Clothes seemed incredibly stupid, a barrier when it was so much better to have nothing standing in the way. He grappled with Lex's shirt, his hands made clumsy by desire, slipping on the slick fabric. Lex finally batted them away and quickly, efficiently stripped himself. A banquet of beautiful, naked skin, and Clark couldn't touch him enough.

A quick, savage kiss, and Lex broke away, eyes shining.

"On your hands and knees." It was a command, not a request.

Lex was clearly used to being obeyed, and the thrill of it was a roman candle going off deep in Clark's body, sending hot sparks zinging through his blood.

The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he settled onto the bed. He could hear Lex breathing harshly, but he didn't turn to look. He would have liked to see Lex's face, the erotic calculation in his eyes, but the anticipation was even hotter.

"God. I want to do everything to you," Lex said, softly.

The words turned him inside out, and Clark had to close his eyes at the intensity of the sensation. He was already so hard again that it hurt.

"Lex. Please."

The slide of a nightstand drawer, and then Lex curved along his back, an inferno everywhere their skin touched.

A rain of kisses to his neck and shoulders. "I want to be gentle. But I don't think I can--" Lex's hands shook as they molded to his back, his sides, his ass.

"I don't care. Just fuck me. Fuck me, Lex."

"God, Clark."

The first, slick touch of fingers between his cheeks took him by surprise, and he couldn't help tensing.

"Just relax," Lex coaxed him.

Lex's fingers stroked and circled and finally pressed inside. He talked the whole time as he opened Clark up, tender endearments mixed with words so dirty they made Clark's cheeks sting.

"I've wanted to do this forever, " Lex said, as he pressed his cock to Clark's hole.

There was a sharp knifepoint of sensation that would have been pain for anyone else as Lex slowly eased inside.

"God," Clark sobbed.

Lex started to move, and Clark sobbed harder.

"You're so beautiful, so fucking perfect." Lex's voice was raspy with longing. "You have no idea how much I've wanted you. Wanted this."

Lex thrust into him, twisting his hips, and Clark moaned, holding onto the coverlet by his fingernails. Every stroke of Lex's cock touched some pulsing place deep inside him that made every muscle in his body shake.

"Lex! Please!"

Lex rested his forehead against Clark's shoulder and fucked him, quiet now, as if he needed to concentrate, intent on getting it just right. Clark's mouth hung open, his tongue lolling out. If Lex got it any more right, he wouldn't survive.

By the time he finally came, it was impossible to believe he hadn't always understood this, hadn't always known what he wanted. Cock and Lex and getting fucked until the tears ran down his face.

Afterwards, Lex flopped onto the bed and pulled Clark into his arms. They rested, quiet for the longest time, until something occurred to Clark.

"You got me a hooker." He said it almost reverently. In its own twisted way, it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him.

Lex groaned and tightened his hold on Clark's shoulders. "Please don't remind me."

"Why?"

"I thought that's what you wanted."

"No. I mean, I know. But-- why?"

Lex sighed. "Clark, there's no moronic thing I wouldn't do for you."

No one had Lex Luthor wrapped around their little finger, only somehow Clark did, and he knew what that had to mean. The realization brought a crazy-happy grin to his face, a sudden flare of heat to his stomach.

"I'm sorry I wasn't clear the other day," he said. "But I thought you already knew how I felt about you."

"I hoped. I have to be honest. But I didn't know."

Clark smiled at him softly. "Well, now you do."

"Now I do." Lex touched his face, a declaration no one could misunderstand. "And so do you."