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"Stop."
That voice again. That give-me voice, the one that isn't Clark's, can't be. That voice that makes Lex hot and curious at the same time. Not farmboy-confusion or kid-uncertainty, but this--feeling.
More than confidence, that. Something Lex can't put a name to. Something that makes Lex pull over on a deserted road, shifting into neutral without thought, turning his head just enough to look into unreadable green eyes that seem to glow in the dark confines of the car.
"Clark?" Because this is what insanity is like--a night run out of the county with a no-longer-underage kid in his car. Who isn't acting anything like a kid--
A familiar stranger who leans over and pulls the key out of the ignition, dropping it to the floor.
"Clark."
A big hand reaches out, touching Lex's face lightly with just the tips of rough fingers. Tracing his face carefully, like he's making a map, or marking possession. Maybe both.
"Cl--"
"Shh." Finger on his lips, outlining with just the tip. "You know what I was thinking, Lex?"
No. Not now, not before, but then, Lex wasn't thinking much of anything when he climbed in the car, Clark a warm, solid presence at his back just that inch too close for perfect comfort.
Clark, who pushes a thumb against his lower lip, holding his gaze, that insane little smile turning up the corners of his mouth.
"I was thinking about Jessie the other night."
Jessie?
"This girl," Clark clarified, and somehow, Lex is pushed into the driver's side door, no idea how, Clark braced on one hand on his seat, grinning even wider.
"The new one?" It's an effort to get a breath past the slow, smooth stroke of that thumb.
"You know what we did last night?" And it shouldn't be possible for Clark to get so damn far over the stick shift, a long arm sliding by him, pushing the driver's seat back, then a quick grin before he pulls the handle.
Lex, suddenly mostly supine, sinking into butter-soft leather, and Clark oozes over the space between them, settling over him like a blanket. Long legs impossibly folded, big hands braced on either side of his head.
Fuck.
"Clark--"
"Don't you want to know, Lex? You know. Share. Like brothers do."
Not at the moment, no. Clark's close enough to breathe, something slick and sophisticated, not farmboy fresh, different and addictive and he wants to touch and Jesus....
"Leeex." A tongue slowly insinuates itself into his ear--Goddammit, this is... "Show or tell?"
"Clark--"
"She had a great mouth, Lex."
Fuck. Another long lick of his ear, thrusting inside, then Clark pulls away, grinning in wide-eyed innocence, an achingly slow rock down on his cock, too damn hard and too damn confined in pants that are too fucking small.
"I learned a lot from Jessie," Clark murmurs, smiling down at him with another slow rock of slim hips. Lex has to touch, can't help it, reaching out and finding smooth material over hard bone. Cupping, fingers digging in with the next slow rock.
"Jesus, Clark--"
"Don't you wanna know?" Clark leans forward, tongue drawing a line from his jaw to his mouth, teeth brushing behind. "Ask me, Lex."
"What are you on?" Has to be drugs. Or God, this is Smallville, could be weird fucking meteor-rock tainted air or something.
A single brush of that perfect, porn-class mouth, gone before Lex can taste it, and Clark rocks again, slow and careful, deliberate. So hard that Lex can barely think.
"Ferrari's don't have much in the way of space, you know," Clark whispers, rocking back, and the pants have to go. Now. "But--you know. Like Dad always says. Where there's a will there's a way."
"Was she any good?" The words are forced out between clenched teeth, and he doesn't want to think of Clark and some girl, God, Clark and some girl in his fucking Ferrari, goodbye to that car by the way.
Taking a stronger grip on Clark's hips with one hand, he slides the other up, fingers finding dark hair, pulling Clark down. "What did she show you?"
Clark licks the line of Lex's lips, biting lightly before drawing back just enough to breathe. "Think you could do better?"
Oh hell yes.
Quick twist, and that mouth--fuck, that perfect mouth he's been dreaming about for longer than he wants to remember, tasting coffee and a late night and no sleep, all Clark.
Clark moans something, fingers scrabbling against the seats, but he's played alpha all he's going to tonight, and Lex reaches down, finding the hidden zipper, flicking the button open with a practiced flick of his wrist.
"Girls are good," Lex says, pushing inside, nothing under, fuck, glad he didn't know that before. "But teenagers lack experience." There. Hard cock, almost arching into his hand and Clark moans again, twisting into him. "That's it, Clark. She do this to you?"
"Ye-ah." Stuttered breath, and Lex twists his fingers tighter through dark hair, pulling his head up. Dilated eyes with the thinnest edge of green. Wide and surprised and hot as hell.
"What else? What did you do to her, Clark?"
Clark chokes on another groan as Lex slides his palm over the head. Already wet, leaking steadily, easy to slick his hand a little, slide back down, squeezing hard, earning a shocked gasp and twist of lean hips until their foreheads touch. "What did you do with her, Clark?"
"Touched her." Panted breath, and Clark's hand closes over his shoulder, bruisingly hard. "She--she took off her shirt."
"Nice. First time?"
"Yeah."
"Bra?" Gentle pull, then Lex circles the head with his thumb, feeling Clark shudder. Better than anything Lex could have imagined.
"Didn't--wear one."
"Better. Did you touch her?"
Clark makes a noise that might be yes, but Lex decides not to cut him any slack. Another slow jack before he stops, squeezing hard once. "Tell me, Clark."
Breathless laugh against his skin. "Show--or tell?"
When Clark lifts his head, Lex leans over just enough to push down on the handle, the door opening.
"Show. Get out."
It's something, though not much, that Clark takes a second to orient himself, shaking off the glazed shock and somehow sliding out the door with a minimum of awkwardness. Taking a deep breath, Lex steps out, kicking the door closed with a heel, and Clark's got that fucking smug smile back. The one Lex wants to just break, wipe away, and he reaches out, getting the lapel of Clark's coat and pulling him forward the few steps that separate them. A wet, messy kiss, teeth and tongues and the edge of blood before Lex pulls back, grasping control by the thinnest thread.
"Show me what you learned," Lex murmured, stepping back. One. Two. Leaning into the warm side of the car, watching Clark's face. Anger and lust and that something else that Lex can't quite identify yet. Feral, maybe.
Sexy, definitely.
A big hand braces itself on the car beside him, and Clark looks down at him, all dark eyes and swollen mouth.
A slow brush of fingers at the waist of his pants, not so much uncertain as deciding, and Lex holds his smirk, casual lean against the car and all. Can't give anything away. Not to this Clark.
"I pushed up her skirt," Clark says in a low voice. Almost breathless, like he can't quite find enough air. Warm fingers slide inside Lex's pants, moving restlessly over the silk, pressing hard against his cock.
"Underwear?" How the fuck his voice is that steady is an act of God.
"She--wasn't wearing any." Curious fingers slide the length of his cock, and Lex draws in a careful breath, keeping his gaze fixed on Clark. Steady. Waiting. "She--she felt so different--"
"Welcome to sexual awakening," Lex answers, and Clark's hand closes more firmly, pushing the silk into his skin. Friction and heat and pressure and Jesus, he could come just from this. Clark's hand and Clark's voice.
"Was she any good?"
Pushing inside the boxers now, eyes widening at the first touch. God. Lex had forgotten what virgins were like.
"It felt good. She felt good. Hot and--wet. Slick." Punctuated with an uncertain stroke, and Lex hisses a breath between his teeth, watched Clark watching him.
"What did she do to you?"
Another stroke, more confident. Moving closer until the hard length of Clark is pressed into his hip, and he moves faster, lowering his head just enough to brush his tongue across Lex's ear.
"Touched me. Just. Unbuttoned my jeans. Said--" Little thrust against Lex's hip before another shuddering breath. "Said I--that she wanted to--wanted--"
"To fuck you? Blow you. Ride you?" God, good, Lex can't help thrusting now, no way in hell he can even think to ever stop. "What did she do, Clark?"
"Blew--blew me." Clark's almost shaking, pushing into his hip frantically, and Lex takes pity, getting one hand between them and finding Clark's cock. Smooth and hot and jumping at the slightest touch.
Clark's so close to coming Lex can almost taste it.
"Wet, tight, hot," Lex murmured. "First time, right?"
"Jesus." A jerk of his hips and Lex breathes through the tight hand around his cock, ruthless, figuring this out, how to do it, how it works. "First time."
"You like it?" And God, to see that. The look on Clark's face that second of realization. Clark groans softly and Lex strokes hard, squeezing before sliding back up.
"Y-eah. It--felt good. Really--God--really good."
Clark's not ready for Lex to move--shocked little gasp, hands grasping at air but Lex pushes him back against the car. Only seconds to get to his knees, jerking Clark's pants down and leaning up just enough to swallow Clark down.
"*Fuck*--"
Amazing, how *hot* it is to hear Clark's voice like this--shocked and amazed and need, and Lex grins, pulling back just enough to breath, hand finding the velvety weight of Clark's balls, weighing them between his fingers.
Frantic gasps from above him, an unfamiliar sound that's similar to metal breaking, but Lex tunes it out and goes back down. Easy, so fucking easy when they're this young, this ready, and it only takes a twist of his tongue before Clark's coming--saying something indecent and echoingly loud, and Lex grins and swallows, catching the bitter-salt taste on the back of his tongue. Sucks until Clark moans again, then pulls back.
Gets to his feet, ignoring the shocked jerk of his cock, and pushes Clark away from the car door. "Ready to go now?"
Cloudy green eyes meet his, dazed confusion and pleasure and that hint again of something not-quite-right, like anger but too primitive. Bubbling even now just below the surface of Clark's skin, and Lex barely makes it to his seat before Clark's hand on his arm gets his attention.
"Now?"
Lex smiles tightly through a shot of heat in his groin. "Metropolis, Clark. Come on. We don't have all night."