Redshift, Chapter 2

Clark/Lex
Season 7
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Read Chapter 1 here.

"What do you want, Lex?"

Clark reaches out and grabs Lex, pushing him over and pinning him to the coverlet. The omelets-- on his mother's good plates-- are knocked off the bed, crashing against the wood planks of the floor. Clark doesn't care much. When he's on red K, he doesn't worry a lot about what his mom will think. He hears the Waterford goblet roll off the bed and smash against the floor, too, but it doesn't worry him.

He lowers his head until he's glaring right into Lex's eyes. "Are you trying to get me to push you around?" he demands. "Do you want me to hurt you? What exactly are you looking for here?"

"What do you care?" Lex's voice is a soft challenge. "I thought you got out of control on this stuff. Why worry about me?"

Good question, Clark thinks. He's still mildly curious about Lex's motives, but only mildly. When he's been exposed to red kryptonite, he doesn't worry a lot about what other people want, or why they do what they do. He just doesn't care that much when he's high.

And drinking the stuff has made him higher than ever before. He's never been this hard in his life.

Right now, all he really wants is to come.

He wants to keep Lex pinned to the bed, helpless, defenseless, at his mercy. But if he does that, he won't be able to touch him. And he very much wants to touch Lex, to explore his pale, athletic body with leisurely, careful thoroughness, the way he did earlier.

He thinks about the problem for a second, and then he whooshes off to find rope. He finds a coil of it in the barn, and a fraction of a second later, before Lex ever has a chance to react, he's on top of him again, tearing off a section of the thick rope with his bare hands, as easily as humans tear a paper towel off a roll.

Lex gapes at him as he begins tying Lex's wrists to the bed. "Where did you get the rope, Clark?"

"The barn."

"You did not-- you couldn't have-- you aren't serious."

Clark only grins, amused. He doesn't intend to clarify the issue for Lex, simply because it really doesn't matter to him. What matters is getting Lex tied nice and tight, so he can't get away.

So Clark can do anything he wants to him.

Anything at all.

Lex struggles, but only a little. "Chill," Clark tells him. "You liked being tied pretty well the last time. Remember when I tied your wrists together in your office?"

There's a heat in Lex's eyes that suggests he remembers very clearly. But he watches Clark casually tear another segment of the thick rope off, and some of the heat dies out of his eyes. He answers in a sharp voice. "This is a little different, Clark. You told me you totally lose control. How do I know you won't rip my arms off?"

Clark grins even more widely as he knots the ropes to the headboard.

"You don't."

Lex struggles a little harder. He still looks turned on, but he looks worried, too.

Good, Clark thinks. Let him worry. After everything Lex has done to him tonight, it damn well serves him right.

He ties Lex's ankles to the posts on the footboard, so that Lex is spread-eagled on the bed, like a sexual banquet laid out for Clark's personal amusement.

Clark intends to amuse himself quite a lot.

He tosses the remainder of the rope aside, then bends over Lex consideringly.

Where to start, where to start...

Lex is almost painfully beautiful, his ivory skin opalescent against the dark blue coverlet, his slimly muscled body spread out so that Clark can see every bit of it. Despite his protests, his cock is heavy and engorged, resting on his stomach, and as Clark looks at it, it throbs a little.

No, he decides. It's tempting, but he's not starting there. Eventually... but not yet.

He lowers his head and licks at one of Lex's nipples. They're a pale, delicate shade of pink, almost the same shade as Lex's erection, and at the touch of his tongue, Lex gives a little whimper, shuddering beneath him. Clark licks him a little more, softly and gently, then opens his mouth... and bites down.

Just like the last time he did it, Lex yelps and writhes, sounding like he's about to come.

Clark does it again, biting him fairly hard. He lifts his head, seeing that he left a bit of a red mark. He straddles Lex's chest and moves up to his neck, biting him there, too.

He intends to leave hickeys and bite marks everywhere, all over Lex's pale, perfect skin.

Because Lex is his... and he wants everyone to know it.

Lex groans under the assault of his teeth, and Clark smiles against his neck. Lex seems to like it just as much as he did the last time Clark bit him. Maybe more, because with Clark on red K, there's a risk Clark could really hurt him. And Clark has a feeling that risk turns Lex on.

"You like pain, huh, Lex?"

Lex doesn't answer, but he's gasping for breath, sounding like he's beyond turned on, and Clark can't help remembering the way he himself got off on pain earlier in the evening. He didn't want to, but he couldn't quite help it.

He remembers Lex's words: I like hurting you. I get off on seeing you in pain.

He thinks he understands that better now, because the darkest part of him, the part that the red K lays bare, is taking a perverse pleasure in hurting Lex. A little pain, he thinks, makes sex kind of interesting. It gives it a little spice.

And it doesn't surprise him at all that Lex likes some pain along with his pleasure. He remembers the words to a song he heard on the radio the other day: I like it rough... 'cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all.

Lex doesn't know how to love the way other people do. In his mind, love is all mixed up with emotional abuse, and maybe even physical abuse. It's not surprising pain turns him on.

To Lex, pain is part of love.

If Clark weren't under the influence, he'd probably do his best to convince Lex that he can enjoy sex without pain, that he doesn't have to feel pain in order to feel. He'd do his best to try to fix Lex's issues, not make them worse, or tangle things up in Lex's head still further.

But Clark is under the influence, and it's Lex's fault. So he's not especially worried about Lex and his emotional issues right now. He's enjoying this quite a bit, actually. After the way Lex hurt him earlier in the evening, a few love bites seem like perfectly fair retribution to him.

As he bites Lex's throat, he reaches down and pinches his nipples roughly. Lex moans and twists, as much as he can when all his limbs are tied to the bed, and Clark feels Lex's abdomen brush against his cock.

He groans, because it feels damn good. Lex's skin is silky, but beneath the skin he's all hard muscle, and the pressure of his body against Clark's hard-on is pure pleasure.

Clark is almost painfully turned on. There's a relentless pulse of sexual need throbbing in his cock, and it's swollen with blood, dripping precome. He needs release.

Instead of rubbing against Lex, he sits up, wraps his fingers around his erection, and begins to stroke himself.

"No." Lex squirms against the mattress, staring at his cock like he just can't look away. "Please, Clark... please..."

"You want it, Lex?"

Clark speaks in a soft, rough whisper, and Lex gives a jerky nod. Clark moves, straddling Lex's chest, so that his cock is right over Lex's mouth, inches away from his lips. He continues to stroke himself, and Lex's mouth drops open, like he wants to taste Clark, lick him, kiss him. Lex is gasping for breath, twisting eagerly against the mattress, and his expression is so full of need and hunger that it makes Clark ache worse than before.

"You want it," he whispers, stroking himself harder. A drop of precome drips onto Lex's cheek like a tear.

"Yes." Lex is actually straining for him now, trying to reach him with his mouth. "Please, Clark."

"You want to lick me," Clark says softly, and somewhere deep inside him, in an insecure place almost entirely masked by the red K, he's still amazed that Lex wants him that way. Lex could have just about anyone in the world he wanted, but Lex wants him. Very badly, judging from his expression. "You want to suck me."

"God..." Lex struggles against his bonds. "Clark, please... let me..."

Clark's precome is falling onto Lex's face freely, and Clark moves his fist even harder. He's so turned on by Lex's pleading, by the look of frantic hunger on Lex's face, that he doesn't think he can stop.

He lowers himself just a bit, and pushes his erection down a little, and Lex strains toward him, and manages to lick the underside of the head. The wet caress of Lex's tongue against the distended, sensitive flesh is incredibly good, and Clark wants to let Lex lick and kiss him, maybe let Lex give him a blow job. He imagines himself thrusting into Lex's mouth, so hard and deep that Lex chokes on it, and the idea turns him on in a big way.

But Lex is still licking him, his tongue sliding over the sensitive little ridge just beneath the head of his cock, and he's making blissful little sounds of pleasure deep in his throat. Lex obviously wants this, and Clark doesn't want Lex to get what he wants. Not yet. So he pulls away.

Lex moans with very clear disappointment, and Clark kneels over him, fisting his own cock.

"I don't need you, Lex," he says in a harsh voice. He knows he's playing mind games with Lex, but he doesn't really give a fuck. God knows the son of a bitch has played enough mind games with him. "I don't need you at all."

He wants to believe it's true. He doesn't want to need Lex. He can get off just fine without Lex Luthor, damn it. His hand is moving hard and fast, and he's gasping for breath. He can feel himself breaking out in a sweat all over, and his thighs are beginning to shake beneath him.

"Clark." Lex struggles against his bonds. "Please... please, just let me..."

"No." Every muscle in Clark's body is straining, and he can barely force the words out. "I told you, Lex. I don't need you to get off."

He moves his hand brutally hard, and then he's coming, in a long, forceful orgasm that wrenches a cry from his throat. He watches as his own come spurts all over Lex's chest and throat, jet after jet of thick white fluid splattering the perfect pale skin until it glistens.

The pleasure is intense, but not overwhelming, and all too soon it's over. Clark slowly moves to the side and drops onto the mattress, breathing hard.

He doesn't try to cuddle with Lex. Right now, he's not into cuddling. He's just into coming.

He lies there, his eyes shut, letting his heart and his breathing slow to normal.

And then he hears Lex's voice. Lex sounds almost as breathless as he does.

"You may think you don't need me," he says, his voice soft. "But that could have been a lot better if you'd let me participate, Clark."

Clark grinds his teeth together, because he knows Lex is right. That felt good, but he knows from experience that his orgasms with Lex are better-- harder, stronger, and a lot longer. Lex makes him scream. Lex makes him totally lose control.

The truth is, he does need Lex.

Damn it.

Read Chapter 3 here.