Author: Pastiche
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Feedback: Yes please.
Summary: Umm, not long enough for one... but its nothing bad.
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Don't sue; I'm poor unless you consider spirit currency.
Dedication: To Paul for the inspiration and beta. Not to mention for not ragging me about this being my first SV fic after *all* this time.
Notes: This is where I admit that I haven't sent the feedback that I should've, but say thank you to all the fabulous writers in the SV fandom. Special hugs to Yvette and Zahra.
Perverse
by Pastiche
Lex thinks that Clark must get a perverse thrill out of this. 'Perverse' and 'Clark' don't really seem to belong in the same sentence, but when Lex loses control completely for the second time that night there really is no other way to describe the look on Clark's face.
Spread open, staked and pinned like a collection's prize butterfly. Vulnerable in such a 'woman's' position. Yet taking it like a man just like he takes life. Hard, fast, and with not nearly enough groundwork to avoid a small amount of hurt. And Clark must know that it hurts Lex when he grinds down and screws against the muscle just hard enough to split the skin, because, hey, no time for exacting preparation when Ma and Pa Kent could come upstairs at any moment. And the 'Yes, harder' that escapes like grit from behind his teeth can't sound like any kind of deterrent.
Perverse, perverted. and he wouldn't think this about anyone else, except Clark looks like an angel. Angelic purity that deserves the 'girl next door', the springtime wedding and the two point five kids and golden retriever. And fuck, just 'harder' and dammit, 'there', and he's already come but the look on Clark's face says 'soon' and the after shocks of Lex's own orgasm seem to stretch on forever.
Clark. His fallen angel that Lex has no intention of ever giving back.
The look on Clark's face changes now like it always does when he comes. Not perverse thrill anymore but beatified bliss. The look that tells Lex that Clark can't believe he's so damn lucky, that Lex is the most perfect thing in Clark's universe. The look that Lex won't ever get enough of.
"Lex!"
He knows Clark isn't really expecting a response but, "What?"
The muffled, "Nothing." falls into his shoulder that does its best along with the rest of his body to mould and cushion six feet plus of muscled, heavy farm-boy. Operative word being heavy. Warm, heavy, heaving and still buried deep inside of him.
For a moment, before he forces it down, Lex wants to escape that full feeling. Because it's not about sex anymore it's about intimacy. That's something he has never had. Never wanted until Clark, and now that he has it, it's taking some getting used to. But he could. get used to it.
the end
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