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“This Superman is ruining all my plans. Metropolis is supposed to be my city, and then he shows up, knowing all my moves before I make them. Not to mention all the repercussions with Luthorcorp’s business partners,” Lex rants, gripping onto his wide, black desk, newspapers plastered with the ridiculous alien in the headlines, as his secretary enters his luxury office.
“How about- hi, how are you Clark? Good to see you, Clark!” Clark Kent asks cheerfully, the noonday sun from the floor to ceiling windows hitting messy raven curls and wrinkled, oversized department store suit, and thick framed glasses- glasses that he refused to take off during sex.
Strictly business. That’s what Lex said when he set up this arrangement months ago, when he could feel Clark’s eyes trail over his lips, offering him extra pay for his discretion- and he still hadn’t gotten himself a decent suit. It wasn’t like Kent was anything special, some Kansas farmboy with nothing to his name with an odd habit of disappearing, but the way he completed every impossible errand Lex threw at him like it was a breeze, with that earnest, lopsided smile, like Lex was his whole world… it made him utterly weak to his knees.
“Why would it be good to see you? I see you every day,” Lex huffs in annoyance, cheeks flushes as he pushes away from his desk.
“Some days you see more of me,” Clark says cheekily, blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses. He raises a paper bag in triumph, breaking his magnetic gaze. “I, uh, brought you donuts.”
Dough’s Holes. Lex’s favorite. His stomach growls as he snatches the bag away, opening a box of fresh, warm glazed donuts- just the way he liked them.
“I don’t remember asking for these,” Lex accused, snapping up a delicious donut with a napkin before savoring it, frosting coating his lips as he tore into it with his teeth. He chewed and swallowed. “What’s the occasion?”
Clark checks his wristwatch- a cheap, dented Cassio from his father that he refused to part with, despite Lex’s generous efforts. “Your- twelve 0’clock?”
Lex’s eyes widen, heart palpitating in anticipation as he presses a button for shaders to drop down on the wall length glass windows off his office, giving them a modicum of privacy in the moody darkness, lowlit by lamps and the live oceanic mural behind his imposing desk.
“How long do we have?” Lex asks, slipping his tie off with a finger and stripping off his steel grey Kiton suitcoat.
“15 minutes. Timer starts… now,” Clark informed, lamplight light reflecting against his glasses as Lex fumbles to undo his buttons. Clark straightens out his posture- that dumpy, shy persona melting into pure, raw confidence- as he takes Lex by the waist and presses him into the freshly shaded office window.
“Clark!” Lex protests, air almost knocked out of his lungs as Clark kisses away the crumbs from his cheeks and frosting from his lips like an animal. The heat of the sunny window radiates through the curtain against Lex’s backside- an impression that hopefully wasn’t visible from any skyrise, out of the Metropolis skyline.
“Could’ve given me some more warning,” Lex growls, tearing Clark’s shirt open desperation to fondle his massive, warm chest and plush tits before Clark steals another kiss from him- all sunshine and sweat and hunger and aftershave and heady musk. God he couldn’t get him out of his dumpy suit fast enough.
“Mmm,” Clark murmurs in non-apology, trailing kisses down his bare neck, and sucking on his collarbone as he unfastens clearly on a mission.
It’s how this worked- mutual, exclusive sexual favors with no strings attached between the miniscule gaps in Lex’s schedule, when Clark wasn’t being his errand boy. So what if Lex spent forever being in charge, and liked to let go- if he didn’t mind, or even reveled in being dominated by his broke-ass cornfed secretary? So what if they were on a first name basis, and have been for months, unlike all of his employees except for Mercy, his assistant? It didn’t mean anything.
Clark unfastens his leatherbelt in speedy succession, teasing Lex with his bulge as peels back the layers of his clothing, stripping his tailored vest and crisp shirt until he hits skin. He massages the black boning around Lex’s waist with an air of excitement. “A corset? For me?”
Lex smacked his hands away, face hot as heat pooled between his thighs. “I like the way it feels. I wouldn’t have to wear it, if you weren’t feeding me so many donuts. Besides- you’re not going to be taking it off and putting it back on in 15 minutes.”
“I thought you liked donuts. And you’re cut like a Greek God,” Clark pouts, as if Lex was being unfair. He wasn’t wrong- Lex spent hours perfecting his figure to become the ultimate apex human specimen, all sinewy and sculpted, without the hefty bulk Clark seemed to haul around.
“Are we going to have sex, or are you going to keep stroking my ego?” Lex breathed and shuddered, cocking a brow, as Clark rolls against him, his dick bulging against his loose pants.
“Both. Maybe more,” Clark smirks, shutting him up as his tongue enters his mouth and goes deep into his throat. Clark picks Lex up by the waist without warning like a sack of flour, removing him from the hot window and sitting him onto his massive black desk, scattering newspapers everywhere. Blood roars in Lex’s ears as his inner thighs throb and wetten with need, catching his breath and savoring the taste of Clark as he breaks away and bends down, hand rooting around in the top drawer of the desk for lube and protection.
Lex huffs in impatience, at least admiring the view and drinking in every detail Clark’s full chest, open shirt, and bare, sweating skin offered him, until one detail in particular caught his eye.
“Did you wash your hands?!” Lex asked, grabbing Clark’s hand in suspicion and looking it over.
“Yeah?” Clark answered, doubt laced in his voice as he froze.
“There’s dirt under your fingernails,” Lex announced flatly, turning his hand for Clark to see.
Clark blushes in embarrassment, patchy and red. “You know what they say. Can’t take the farm out of the farmboy. Besides, it’ll still feel good, won't it?”
How could it feel good if it was teeming with bacteria and diseases?! At least, that was what Lex was going to say, until Clark slipped his lubed up, free fingers in his hole, stretching him out for his cock as if to prove a point, stealing the air out of his lungs.
“You’re getting a manicure after this. I’m sending you to get a manicure,” Lex breathed.
“Do you want me to wear gloves next time?” Clark smirks.
The idea of Clark wearing gloves somehow sent him, body shuddering at the image of his secretary in leather bondage or ribbons and bows, ready for him to unravel and undress like a Christmas present. His secretary- the one that somehow knew exactly what he wanted before he asks or reaches the phone, the one that seems to vanish and reappear out of thin air, and juggle a hundred tasks with ease- still bright eyed, like the world never beat him down. The one he hired just to boss around, and admire. The one that was currently fucking him.
Clark rips the condom packaging open with his teeth, rubbing it up his meaty, veined, shaft as he pushes down Lex’s panties, lubed fingers massaging the lips and teasing the clit before burying his fingers deep into Lex’s pussy.
“Does that feel good?” Clark rumbles, as Lex hisses, biting back his tongue in an effort to contain an embarrassing moan of mounting pleasure, leaning his body backward to better take him. Goosebumps spread across Lex’s bare skin as Clark leans in, breath hot against his ear. “You’re so wet for me.”
“You wish,” Lex manages, face flushed and body convulsing with pleasure as Clark’s fingers scissor, sliding out slightly to introduce the tip of his erect shaft. Lex fingernails dig into the black wood of his desk, back arching as Clark spears him, white hot and electric and fireworks all at the same time, and he hadn’t even finished.
Office supplies scattering across the floor with Clark’s every thrust, a mug of pens here, newspapers and a nameplate there, the desk squeaking and swaying with the force of movement. Clark wasn’t rolling like a wave- he was a tsunami of rough, unfiltered passion and raw power- and Lex his epicenter.
“Nngh!” Clark lets out a ragged grunt, a meteor shower of pleasure and light sparking behind Lex’s eyes as Clark finishes.
“Fuck!” Lex cries out in agony, at the edge of an orgasm as his bald head cracks against the desk, thighs wet from the seed that escaped the condom. The office was relatively soundproof. Relatively.
Clark stops thrusting immediately, hastily wiping his hand on his unbuttoned shirt to caress the back of Lex’s head, lifting him up to check for bruising. “Are you okay? That sounded like it hurt.”
Shit. Lex’s ears ring as his pussy throbs, Clark still deep inside him, wondering how on Earth hands so big and rough could be so gentle, eyes a bit teary in shock over the gentleness of it- even didn’t deserve it. Those crooked black framed glasses and those round, puppy eyes full of sky…
Would he come to regret this- their little fuck sessions? Would Clark stop or disappear, after the last paycheck came through? Lex realized in ice cold clarity, he didn’t even know what Clark did with the money- or what he wanted out of life, besides giving Lex dick. Did it matter?
Do I matter to you?
“What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment,” Lex smirks, bringing a confused Clark in for a deep throated kiss, squeezing his bare, juicy ass with a free hand.
“Mmnhgh- let’s take this to the couch,” Clark announces, a trail of saliva on his sweet plush, kissable lips, glasses slightly fogged from their body heat as he squeezes in a finger to slip out his stuffed dick.
“Clark! Really?” Lex complains, grabbing his open shirt in protest, not wanting to lose momentum, or the feeling of his stiff, hot cock inside of him. Why Clark was so concerned was beyond him- he hadn’t used or brought up the safeword Clark insisted on having, mumbling something about ‘being stronger than he means to’- appointments often leaving Lex waddling for the rest of the day, peppered with lovebites and bruises.
“Really. Someone’s gotta protect that big, beautiful brain of yours,” Clark reassured, scooping up an indignant, undressed Lex bridal style to the office couch, folding out the concrete gray cushions like a futon.
“And that someone is you?” Lex asks playfully, kicking off his shoes and pants for more freedom of movement as he laid on his back, the couch creaking beneath them as it took their combined weight.
“Mmhmm,” Clark hummed confidently, skin radiating heat like the sun as he repositions himself above Lex. God, it was so hot, watching Clark’s ungodly muscled arms flex as he steadies himself upright, briefly sending Lex into a fantasy of being crushed underneath him. He wipes Lex down with some discarded clothing, Lex cringing and wriggling away from the texture. “Be still.”
“You don’t- get to tell me what to do,” Lex manages with a petulant huff.
“Then why am I here?” Clark asked playfully, with that billion watt smile, spare hand rubbing his dick to salvage any sticky remnants of lube between his fingers. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, looking over Lex as he stretches and spreads himself wide open. “You ready?”
“If you have to ask, you already know the answer,” Lex growls in irritation, the undercurrent of tension and anxiety that roiled inside of him rearing its ugly head, as the recycled office air breezed against his genitals. Clark’s dick slaps against his body as he leans in.
“So impatient. You know I take care of you,” Clark murmured, and Lex unraveled, breath hitching shuddering with pleasure as Clark sucked on his sensitive, pale skin, teeth warning to close against his breast.
An annoying beep rang in Lex’s earpiece- an outside influence Lex would do anything to ignore for what little, precious time they had left. Lex had half a mind to tear it off and toss it to the side, until his assistant Mercy picked up the line.
“Mr. Luthor, direct call from the Department of Defense?”
“I’m in an appointment,” Lex grunted, somehow able to pull a sentence together as Clark slides down the couch instead, hovering over Lex’s exposed groin.
“It’s about Planetwatch.”
“Fuck me, fine I’ll take it!” Lex huffed, hand pressing against his ear in an attempt to block out any unsavory noises, before glaring down at his pussy to Clark, waiting for the call to transfer as he kisses his groin, grinning if he reveled in the inconvenience. “Clark. Behave.”
“Yes, yes, this is Lex Luthor. The weapons shipment? No sorry, we’re not currently developing more ray guns- the energy requirements alone…” Lex answers, as the voice on the other line buzzes in his ear canal, catching his breath as Clark teased his labia with his teeth and little, sharpened canines. Lex crushed him between his thighs in response, comfortably wrapping his legs around Clark, his garters digging into his sweating skin, and damp dress shirt.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?! It’s for the good of humanity, but I’m not a fucking charity,” Lex growled, arching his back as Clark suppressed a moan, his balmy, moist tongue rhythmically tracing and sucking the edges of his vagina.
“Yes. The Pentagon. Ungh- alright,” Lex clenched his jaw, pressure and pleasure building as Clark ate him out on the office couch. It was almost too much for him to bear- and Clark seemed extremely content to torture him. “Until then…bye…”
“Fuck!” Lex shouted, hanging up the call, body buzzing and tingling as he orgasms. He lets out a ragged gasp, melting into the couch, as Clark spreads him wide open, rolling against him like he’s ready for a second round. “Stop teasing me, you animal- I’ll fire you.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Clark said cheekily, glasses steaming and tousled curls falling into his eyes, as he climbs back over Lex, radiating heat like a generator. Clark’s fingers slip between his thighs, and Lex wraps his legs around Clark, a movement as natural as breathing, as Clark shudders above him- young, inexperienced, virile, passionate- all rolled into one.
“It’s funny, this whole bumbling persona you keep up. You’re a different person in the dark,” Lex chuckles, fingers tangling in his black curls, as Clark grunts, hand rubbing his reinvigorated dick.
“There’s a lot of different sides to me. You get to see this one,” Clark murmurs, as if there was another hidden side to him that Lex- who knew his social security number, bank balance, report cards, address, and any relevant background check- hadn’t discovered yet.
“I get to see all of them,” Lex demands, even if it doesn’t make sense, even if there’s only so much conversation you can make while fucking. A selfish flash seizes in his chest, kissing Clark’s plump chest, trailing his areola with a tongue and teasing a nipple with his teeth, a canvas of his own to mark.
I own you.
The couch absorbs the brunt of Clark’s thrusts, less thrilling than being fucked somewhere less conventional, but leagues more comfortable, the reinvigorated, rigid nature of Clark’s cock more than enough compensation. Lex sighed and panted in exhaustion, throbbing with sexual satisfaction, body shuddering with one last orgasm. Here, in this sensuous, crashing quiet that could last forever, bare and exposed and savoring each other’s being- they wholly and completely belonged.
Fifteen minutes? Lex wanted an eternity.
Rationally wins over, in the end.
“How much- time left?” Lex croaks, arms laced around Clark’s shoulders, sore and thoroughly fucked as he pressed against him, nibbling his ear.
Clark hoists himself up to check his stupid watch, glasses crooked and spattered by Lex’s climax. “Uh… 30 seconds?”
“30- You’re supposed to keep track of these things! Didn’t you set an alarm?” Lex let out a strangled gasp, pushing away Clark’s meaty, muscled body as he guided his flaccid, hot dick out of his pussy with a forceful suck- quicker than Lex would’ve liked.
“No? I thought you did! You’re the one with all the fancy tech stuff!” Clark protests in desperation, scrambling off the couch to grab his clothing. Lex waddled to his desk, hips and pussy aching from being thoroughly fucked, almost tripping over Clark’s clown sized shoes, as his secretary tosses him his slightly wrinkled clothing.
“Well then, just cancel my next appointment!” Lex barked out, his nimble fingers racing to button up his shirt and vest, glancing over fresh hickeys and bites that were sure to bruise. It was worth cancelling appointments, just to appear as his calm, collected,strategic heir to an empire he always was- and not someone who had quickies in the middle of the day.
“I tried but it’s- it’s Maxwell Lord,” Clark winces, and Lex lets out an audible ‘FUCK’.
There’s a knock at the office door, short and distinct- the precise and ruthless pattern of his assistant Mercy. Rumors and tabloids already flew about how he fucked his secretaries- Lex would do anything to not not add to the fire.
“It’s Mercy. Under the desk,” Lex ordered, panting and sweating as Clark clambered into the vacant space while he sat into his office chair, pressing a button for the automatic curtains to slide back up to this. It wasn’t the first time Clark had to hide in his office, though Lex din’t want to make a habit of it- a part of him wondering if Clark wanted them to be found out. At least his top half was presentable- dress shirt, vest, and tie in place- the desk tilted enough to hide the fact that Lex was pantless, and large enough to disappear an entire secretary.
Mercy bursts through the office door like a machine, all sharp angles and crisp pansuits and irritation, waving her keycard in offense. “Mr. Luthor, I don’t know why you give yourself these appointments with such a high security clearance-”
The office supplies scattered across the floor give Mercy pause. Her dark lips tighten.
“Redecorating?” Mercy asked, cocking a critical eyebrow at the dark crooked office desk- one Clark barely managed to wipe down- and Lex himself, prim and calm with a cracked coffee mug
“Yes- another interruption. You know how it is,” Lex muttered, sipping the empty mug and fighting to keep a straight face as Clark teased his garters with his teeth. Lex managed to stomp onto one of his fingers, covering Clark’s little yelp with a startled cough.
“Where’s your secretary? I thought I saw them come in here,” Mercy asked, as Clark’s dark curls brush against his bare thighs, nose and lips level to his pussy. Lex’s spare hand grabs a thick tangle of hair in an attempt to restrain him, the heat of Clark’s breath against his skin, and the precarious nature of the situation almost sending Lex over the edge.
“Out,” Lex lied curtly, slapping the mug down as he stomps firmly onto Clark with his foot, in case Clark got any ideas. He could nearly hear him smirking and smiling from under the table, as if they were playing some childish game like hide and seek.
“You know, Mercy, I do think I like how the office was before. Send in the cleaning crew to set everything as it was- I don’t want anything a micrometer out of place. As for Maxwell, I’ll meet him in the Kensington office- distract him with a gift basket, an intern, a presentation- I don’t care. I’ll meet him when I’m ready,” Lex announces, slowly slipping on his suitcoat and fixing his cuffs as if it was an act of defiance. Time was money, and he was a billionaire.
“You missed a button,” Mercy narrows her eyes, before she spins away, heels clacking against the tile as she rushes out of the office to bark out orders.
Lex holds his breath, fingers tumbling over every buttonhole in a quick nervous succession, before huffing when he realized every button was in their proper place. The hazy gratification of sex usually released the tension and anxiety that knotted inside of him, but the rush of adrenaline today just made him paranoid and exhausted. Fuck Maxwell Lord, Lex just wanted to curl up and take a nap- maybe in the secure, muscled warmth of a certain secretary, and cancel all meetings forever…
“You know you’re working yourself too hard. I think you need to relax more,” Clark has the audacity to say, as he shuffles on his clothing. He’d never been so glad that Clark always looks so disheveled.
“I have a company to run. And a legacy to uphold,” Lex said flatly- more responsibility than Clark could ever dream of.
“Sure, sure,” Clark teases, daring to steal a little kiss outside of their little fifteen minute appointment, where anyone could walk in and see what they were doing. Lex’s heart almost rockets out of his chest, brain bluescreening at Clark’s blasé boldness.
“Gee, Mr. Luthor, is it that time already? More assignments? You want to meet over dinner?" Clark announces loudly around the room, running his hand through his curls before slinging his tie around his neck.
Lex twitches, blindsighted, glancing around the office in horror before grabbing him by the collar. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
"Of course I’ll bring the phở and bánh mì, Mr. Luthor. You really need to separate your work life balance,” Clark beams, top buttons mixed up as he awkwardly rubs his tie against his glasses. He slings his suit coat over his shoulder.
Lex is slack jawed, as Clark leans in, voice quiet as he looks at him intently. “That is- if you really wanted to see all of me…”
Lex reddens as his head spins, jaw clenching as Clark flips their dynamic on its head and throws it out the window. The implications alone, the game he’s playing- Yes, Lex wanted Clark carnally, even now, all achy and spent, but what would that even look like, if they weren’t in his office? What would it mean?! Was he really willing to risk it all, now?!
“8pm. Sharp. The penthouse. If anyone sees you-“ Lex growls, the words stuttering out of his mouth before he had time to regret them, while Clark waltzes away, grinning like an idiot. “I’m not paying you overtime. You- you better fix those damn buttons!”
Lex runs his hands across his face as the cleaning crew arrives, scuttling around him like fearful ants. Strictly business- if Superman wasn’t going to be the death of him, it was sure as hell going to be his secretary, Clark Kent.