[Then]

"I can't stay," Clark said, automatically, the moment he got through the kitchen door. He'd sorta left an inexplicable furrow through the field again, but no matter. No one around at this hour to puzzle at it, and there'd be rain by morning. Lex looked up from where he was leaning against the counter, stirring chocolate into an elegant, steaming cafe latte, spoon chinking against the glass.

"I don't like the sound of that."

Um. "But - I never. my parents," Clark said, confused, and Lex had left the latte on the counter, just the tip of the spoon sticking out like a tiny silver shrub, and crossed to Clark, yanking him inside the door by the collar, kissing him hard on the mouth.

"I want you to."

"No, really," Clark mumbled, hands finding Lex's hips, tugging him closer, "I can't - some day," he promised, and Lex made dark noises against his mouth.

"I'll drive you home. Before dawn--"

"No, I've got--"

"Your parents won't know," Lex interrupted, persuasive, voice molten and believable. "In the Porsche, the Carrera Cabriolet? I promise, no one will hear a thing. And," he added, and Clark tried to kiss him quiet and failed when Lex's mouth simply slipped to his throat, nuzzling hopefully, "you'll love pancakes at 4am, I bet," and Clark tilted his head back, letting Lex's hands find their way inside his shirt, hissing as that mouth bit him in absurd punctuation.

"We'll get found out," he tried, and Lex laughed and pushed away from the wall, leaving Clark shivering like he'd been stripped in the wind. "Hey."

"I'll make the butler leave our breakfast outside the door, if you're so afraid of people knowing," Lex teased, and his mouth was wet, and he'd just said our breakfast, our, like a total couple-y occupation, and Clark couldn't help but step towards him. Lex shoved him playfully away. "Don't you appreciate that?" Lex was saying, warmly. "I'm willing to let my servants think I've turned eccentric, to wake up and leave my nice warm bed to escort you home, and you're not even going to thank me?"

"We're wasting time," Clark said desperately, and Lex smiled and moved in close again, breath on Clark's cheek, fingers idling over his hips again. Clark tried to kiss him, and Lex ducked out the way, licked at his ear. Much more of this, Clark thought sharply, gritting his teeth, and he was simply going to melt into the wall. See how much Lex enjoyed his company then.

"You've seen my room, haven't you?" Lex was murmuring, words warm in his ear, fingertips tracing a slow line up the sensitive hollow of Clark's spine. "My bed is really... comfortable."

Clark swallowed.

"Besides," Lex added, "if you stay, we'll have time to waste," and Clark tried to stutter something out and failed, and Lex felt so utterly good, all pliant and demanding, hot hands and fierce mouth and oil-smooth skin.

The coffee got cold.

[Now]

"Um, Clark?"

"Mmph."

"No, really."

"No," Clark said, screwing his eyes tighter closed, folding his hands securely round Lex's hips to put a stop to the shifting that was going on, "really." It was just - delicious to have Lex on top of him, to have been able to sleep in his arms. Fucking corny for that to matter, but whatever. He was asleep - at least, trying to be - so any stray romanticism could be marked off as hypnogogic imagery gone wild.

He cracked his eyes open a tiny bit, just enough to check the light, then shut them again. Gone dawn, sky brightening, but not too late. They so had more time.

"No, seriously," Lex said. "Wake the fuck up."

[Then]

"Aw, fuck," Clark panted, as Lex crawled on top of him, fingertips pushing inside decisively just as soon as he got his legs apart.

"Told you my bed was better than that excuse of a couch in the barn," Lex breathed, sliding his other arm under the nape of Clark's neck, lifting him just high enough to kiss as those fingers slid in knuckle by knuckle, kissing him just hard enough to make his mouth feel wet and overwarm.

"I was," Clark said, licking his lips, breaking off and shuddering as Lex's fingers moved deliberately, decisively, wriggling in the unspeakable softness of Lex's bed, unable to get a decent purchase, "kind of enjoying the kitchen--"

"I'm gonna make you forget the kitchen," Lex said, and Clark sorta hoped he would since he'd come fast enough to be embarrassed with Lex's mouth around his cock and his own hands folded white-knuckled round the blessedly marble tabletop. Better to forget-- except that shit, no, he wanted to remember, because Lex'd swallowed and wiped his mouth and stared up at him and said brightly, "okay, so next time remind me to deep-throat right away, because that was spectacular," and Clark really, really didn't wanna forget a suggestion like that.

"Promises," Clark managed, almost hitting the drawl he was after, and then shredded any iota of credit by actually goddamn whimpering when Lex pushed his thighs even further apart and then cruelly withdrew his hand.

"You think I can't do it?" Lex said softly, and Clark shook his head restlessly, meaning, yes, you can do anything you like, and Lex ducked and bit him on the curve of his jaw, up against his earlobe. "Take that back."

"I take it back," Clark said immediately, fingers almost puncturing the bedclothes in frustration except he couldn't even let them, because Lex didn't know, didn't and couldn't and sometimes Clark thought it'd be easier if he did and sometimes he just thought Lex's cock belonged inside him and the effort of wrenching his hands away from a couple of sheets was, in comparison, nothing at all.

Right now, as Lex kept him waiting waiting lingering with his thighs on tingling fire and his stomach aching and his teeth gritted as the wet head of Lex's cock brushed between his legs, once, twice, never firm enough-- right now, he wasn't too concerned with the secrets thing, on the whole.

[Now]

"Seriously, I'm asleep," Clark insisted, and Lex was tense above him, fists closing on Clark's shoulders. Clark had a sudden sharp fear that Lex was wigging out about him staying over, about their whatever-it-was getting a new dimension, then shoved that thought aside. Lex'd been pretty fucking enthusiastic about the idea so far.

"You may be asleep but I'm freaked out," Lex said, voice clipped and tight, "since I have no interest whatsoever in checking if the chandeliers have been dusted this week."

"Chandeliers," Clark said blankly, opening his eyes. What? "What?" he said, and then realised the ceiling was-- quite a lot closer than it had been last night, and Lex's entire body was trembling.

"Clark, if I wanted to wake up airborne I would have arranged to use the jet," Lex hissed, and if Clark hadn't been a freaky floating alien then the pressure of Lex's fingers would be starting to do some serious damage, but as it was, oh, oh. This was pretty much spilling the can of worms right into Lex's naked lap.

"ohshit," Clark said, and gravity noticed.

[Then]

Clark started to drift off, Lex draped over him, the blanket cocooning the two of them. He was stinging pleasantly in several places, sense-memory full of the pitch and slam of Lex's body, of his own contorted yowls. He felt a little... uneasy, though. Just in the back of his mind. Something, something wrong... he couldn't quite remember.

He had a definite feeling, though. Surely there was some reason this was a bad idea.

~ fin

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