Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Despite silk sheets and a bed large enough to hold an orgy in, Lex Luthor couldn't sleep. It wasn't hard to determine the reason. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Clark Kent's face.
Even now, three years after he'd first met the young man, he couldn't quite believe how beautiful Clark was. He would never forget that first look into Clark's face, his hair dripping with river water, his skin glistening, his emerald eyes blazing with concern.
He hadn't been able to look away from that face.
He still couldn't look away.
Sometimes he stared while Clark's attention was elsewhere, studying the play of light on Clark's finely carved features, the way his long, lean body moved with cautious grace. Clark was just starting to settle into his tall young body, his musculature finally beginning to catch up to his height, and as he approached maturity he strode through life more confidently than he once had. And yet sometimes he still walked with exaggerated care, as if he was uncertain where his feet were. There was still something almost coltish about him, a charming awkwardness, a barely restrained energy.
Lex never grew tired of staring at the dark, thick tumble of hair that framed Clark's face. He'd thought more than once that the young man could use a decent haircut in a Metropolis salon, rather than letting his mom chop off his hair at the farmhouse kitchen table.
And yet there was something artless and lovely about the way his too-long curls framed his face. The tousled bangs called attention to his long-lashed eyes. And those eyes were unbelievably lovely, a vivid green shot through with gold, like spring leaves-- eyes that grew even brighter when Clark gave one of his brilliant smiles.
When they were together, Lex tried not to stare, but he couldn't always stop himself. Clark was quite simply the most beautiful young man he'd ever seen. He'd dated quite an assortment of men, including a number of famous supermodels, but none of them could possibly hold a candle to Clark.
Sometimes he thought Clark was unaware of his fascinated stares, that he supposed Lex thought of him as nothing more than a friend, a guy he shot pool with and watched videos with and kidded around with.
But other times... other times, Clark looked back at him, and there was a sort of dawning awareness in his eyes. Sometimes his lips curved faintly, as if he was amused by Lex's stunned reaction to his beauty. And sometimes-- not often, but sometimes-- he stared back.
In the darkness, Lex closed his eyes, remembering the way Clark had looked at him today. He'd noticed Lex's stare, and he'd caught Lex's gaze and held it, with an expression almost of challenge in his eyes.
Arrested by the gleam in Clark's eyes, Lex hadn't been able to look away. He'd found that challenging, direct stare oddly arousing, and he'd wanted to reach out and touch Clark, to kiss him, to kick his feet right out from under him and have his way with him on the plush Oriental carpet.
But he couldn't. Clark was only seventeen, and barely seventeen at that. So right now, all Lex could do was stare. But one day... one day...
Well, one day he was going to do more than stare.
A lot more.
He and Clark had stared into each other's eyes for a long moment, and for the first time, he'd been absolutely certain that Clark knew how he felt, and that Clark felt it too.
They'd stared at each other, a silent acknowledgement passing between them: This is so much more than just friendship.
And then, because Clark wasn't old enough for all the earthy and bawdy and outright dirty things Lex wanted to do with him, he'd turned away, and suggested a game of pool.
On some base, animal level, he regretted that decision. His body ached for Clark with a fierce need, a need that grew more acute with every passing day. He burned for the younger man.
But even if Clark was aware of his desire, even if Clark shared his desire... he was just too young.
Lex sighed, deciding to take solace in the only way that was open to him. His hand slid down his own abdomen, toward his aching cock, and his eyes fluttered shut.
And then he heard his door open.
He opened his eyes. The darkness was absolute, so inky that he couldn't see a thing. But the instant he heard a footstep, he knew who was in his room.
He lay silent as the unmistakable footsteps moved toward him-- big feet shod in enormous workboots. The bed shifted as Clark settled onto the bed next to him. Lex felt his chest tighten, so that he could hardly breathe.
He knew what was the right thing to do here. He ought to tell Clark to go away, to leave him alone. He ought to tell Clark that he'd misunderstood, that he wasn't old enough, that there was nothing between them at all. He ought to tell Clark any hurtful lie to get the young man out of his bedroom.
But he couldn't.
He remembered Clark mentioning casually that his parents were in Metropolis for a few days. So no one would be looking in on Clark to find him missing. No one would notice if he crept off the farm for a few hours. No one needed to ever know except the two of them.
And God help him, he wasn't strong enough to say no.
Clark's hands stroked over him in the dark, cautiously, but not as shyly as Lex would have expected. Lex slept in the nude, and the feel of Clark's hands on his bare chest sent ripples of pleasure through him. He closed his eyes, unable to fight it.
Clark's big hands explored his chest, his shoulders, his abdomen. Everywhere he touched, heat followed, until Lex was so hot he couldn't see straight. His skin blazed as if he had a fever.
And then Clark's big hand stroked over Lex's cock.
Lex jolted, biting back a startled cry. God, it was good to feel Clark's hand there. So good. He'd imagined it so many times, but he hadn't ever thought... he'd meant to let Clark finish growing up... they really ought to wait...
His vaguely responsible thoughts faded away like smoke as Clark's hand closed around him, tentatively at first. Lex flexed his hips, driving his cock into the warmth of Clark's hand, and the strength of his reaction seemed to give Clark more confidence. His hand tightened on Lex, just enough to feel really, really good, and he began to stroke him in long, slow strokes.
Lex groaned. He couldn't help himself. He was very aware of his body's reactions, the precome dripping from his cock onto his belly, his balls tightening, his cock beginning to spasm hard and fast against Clark's hand.
He was powerless here, utterly out of control. Clark had somehow walked into his room and taken control of him-- Lex Luthor, the man who was always in control-- without a single word.
Lex didn't know how it had happened, but he liked it.
He fought to hold back his orgasm, because he didn't want to come yet, but Clark wouldn't let him. His hand moved harder and faster, driving Lex toward a high cliff, and Lex tumbled over the edge helplessly, come spurting over his belly in rush after heated rush. He came so hard he saw stars.
At last he relaxed with a gasp, and Clark released him. Lex still couldn't see anything in the darkness, but he could feel the bed shifting as Clark started to get out of bed.
He reached out and grabbed him, holding him fast.
He could feel the muscles in Clark's arm tensing beneath his hands, could feel the young man preparing for flight. Clark had clearly prepared himself to give, but not to receive, and the idea of reciprocation scared him. That was obvious from the tension in his body.
But Lex didn't let him get away. He tugged him down, gently, and wrapped him in his arms, holding him against his shoulder.
Still Clark didn't say anything. Lex understood that. Clark had done a very unClarklike thing in coming here and starting this. It wasn't like Clark to take risks, even with his parents out of town. Probably the only way he'd dared do this was in silence and darkness. If Lex turned on the bedside lamp, he suspected that Clark would take flight like Cupid, never to be seen again.
Lex had no intention of turning on the light, even though he imagined a sweaty, disheveled Clark would look more beautiful than ever. He didn't intend to speak and break the spell, either. He didn't say anything else, only brushed light kisses over Clark's forehead. Clark shivered a little in his arms.
Lex reached down, finding that Clark was fully clothed, wearing his customary jeans and flannel shirt. He began unbuckling Clark's belt buckle, then unbuttoning his jeans. Clark shook harder, but let him. Lex stripped him of his clothing, slowly but methodically, and Clark helped him by toeing off his boots and socks. Before long, he was as naked as Lex was.
Lex let his hands slide over the silken skin of Clark's back, the taut muscles of his ass. He was aware of the heavy sound of Clark's breathing in the darkness, the way his body quivered at every touch. Slowly, so as not to panic the other man, he slipped a hand around to Clark's abdomen, and then let his fingers trail downward.
He wasn't surprised to find that Clark was as hard as he himself had been moments before. He caressed Clark carefully, enjoying the sensation of smooth, satiny flesh hot against his palm.
Clark trembled in his arms.
He let his hand close around the younger man's erection and began to stroke, just as Clark had stroked him. He could feel Clark's moisture spilling out of his body, slicking Lex's hand. Clark's breath came in unsteady bursts, and his bare body felt hot and damp.
Lex wanted to explore him with mouth and body as well as hands, but he didn't quite dare. Clark was, he thought, a total novice at this, and any effort on Lex's part to take this further tonight might very well send him into a panic.
So he simply moved his hand faster, and for the first time, Clark made a little noise, as if he were choking back a cry of pleasure. His body twisted suddenly, as if caught in a flow of ecstasy too great to resist, and then his hips were moving, slamming his cock into Lex's hand in hard, violent thrusts.
Lex felt come spurt over him, heard the strangled noises Clark made through clenched teeth, and he hoped it was as good for Clark as it had been for him. He hoped he'd made Clark see stars, too.
At last all the tension went out of Clark's body, and he collapsed to the mattress beside Lex, gasping. Lex wrapped his arms around him, holding him close, kissing his cheek and his ear and his jaw. At last he felt Clark respond, very tentatively, offering him a single cautious kiss on the cheek.
He smiled in the darkness at Clark's shyness. Considering that Clark had sneaked into the mansion and slipped into bed with him, considering that Clark had somehow found the nerve to seduce him, he found the subsequent shyness quite endearing.
He continued kissing Clark, and before long Clark was responding with enthusiasm. They shared warm, sweet kisses in the darkness for a long time, brushing kisses over each other's throats and chests and shoulders, enjoying the warmth of mutual afterglow.
At last Clark dropped his head to Lex's shoulder, and Lex could feel the young man seem to grow heavier in his arms. Clark was falling asleep, and Lex knew he shouldn't let him stay here. But he reminded himself that the Kents were in Metropolis, as they all too rarely were. The two of them might never get another opportunity like this one.
At any rate, the thought of sleeping through the night with Clark in his arms, of awakening to see his tousled hair gilded by sunlight, his eyes emerald in the early morning light, his sleepy, contented smile, was too seductive to resist. He wanted to see all that masculine beauty gracing his bed-- and perhaps even to explore Clark's beauty further.
But right now, all he wanted to do was sleep, with Clark beside him.
Earlier, sleep had eluded him. But now a warm exhaustion suffused him, along with a feeling of peace and belonging he'd never before experienced. He tightened his arms around Clark, holding the other man close, and his eyes fluttered shut. When he closed his eyes, he discovered, he still saw Clark's face. But it no longer kept him awake.
He drifted off to sleep, Clark in his arms and his dreams.