First Date

Clark had realized somewhere between the final cartoon and the opening overture to Milo and Otis that all he was ever going to be was Lana Lang's friend. It actually hadn't hurt as much as he thought it would. She had told him weeks ago that Whitney made her feel safe, protected. She hadn't said the word love, but maybe that was only one step away from those feelings. But that was definitely closer than what he had, which was, 'you'll show up this time, right?'

He had managed to make her smile, though. He could at least feel good about that, some accomplishment there.

Things had gotten weirder when, the next morning, Lex had brought up the whole date thing. A 'first date'. Clark knew Lex had been joking… kind of. Why hadn't it sounded ridiculous? Why had it sounded - interesting? Clark supposed, had it really been a joke, they would have joked about it, tried to smooth over it all. But over their breakfast of crepes and fruit they had talked about every subject imaginable - except the date. Maybe the increasingly frequent dreams of kissing Lex in the Ferrari hadn't really been about the Ferrari at all.

Clark had been thinking about this all day, and was thankful that his parents had to leave for the Kansas Organic Growers' Conference today. Straightening the blades on the tiller was going to make some noise, not to mention he had to find a place to hide what was left of the boots he had been wearing when the blades had hit his feet. He looked up from the sink as his father came into the kitchen, carrying the laundry basket, clothes collected from the line outside.

"Martha?"

"Don't shout in the house, Jonathan. The barn is outside."

"Come on, Martha, we need to get going. We don't want to miss cocktail hour."

Clark couldn't help but smile as his mother came into the kitchen, her red hair up in a stylish knot, her dark green dress sparkling like the meteors that weakened him so badly. A quick look at his father told him that Jonathan Kent was definitely feeling weak in the knees at the sight.

"You hate cocktail hour, Jonathan," Martha retorted. She quickly sorted the laundry into piles on the kitchen table, looking not at all incongruous in the dress as she separated Clark's boxers from Jonathan's.

"Considering the last time we went to this thing, I'm willing to get drunk." Jonathan gave Clark a guilty look. "Not that getting drunk is a good thing, Clark."

"I know, Dad."

"Jonathan, shower. We need to leave for Metropolis in a half an hour. Clark, put your laundry away." As the two Kent men scurried to her biding, Martha moved to the freezer, pulling out containers of food for Clark to heat in the microwave. "Clark, are you sure you'll be okay tonight?"

"Mom, I'll be fine. The guys might come over to see the movies again, since we still have the projector."

"Oh, that's a good idea," his mother said, and Clark knew there was a faint bit of relief that he wouldn't be alone. "If you want, we can come back after the dinner," his mother added.

"Mom, I'll be fine. I don't think I can get into too much trouble in one night. I'll cancel the strippers and the keg, if it'll make you feel better. I'll lose the deposit..." Clark started, giving her his best innocent smile.

"Don't joke about such things with your mother, Clark Kent," she replied, but her eyes were dancing merrily. "All right. We'll see you tomorrow night. Just make sure you put the feed out in the morning and move the cows to the east pasture, all right?"

Clark gave her a salute, clicking his heels. "Yes, ma'am."

With a laugh and a sigh, Martha ruffled his hair and headed upstairs to prod Jonathan out of the shower.

Clark watched her go with a sigh, relieved that she hadn't pushed. While he hadn't exactly lied, he didn't want to extrapolate on exactly who was coming over tonight - if he did that, they'd never leave.

Waving to his father as his mom drove her car down the drive, Clark started to think about his options for tonight. Lex was going to be here at seven, and they were going to go into town for pizza. That was good, even if he'd have to eat the stew his mother had set to defrost for him before she left. He was always hungry anyway, so it wasn't going to be a problem.

Heading back into the house, Clark tapped five minutes into the microwave timer and pressed start. He headed up the stairs, two at a time. Once in his room, he started looking through his drawers and closet, finally settling on a pair of khakis and a blue and red sweater.

As he grabbed a pair of socks, Clark uncovered the gold and black box of Trojans. He paused, considering the box. The red price sticker was still on it, the box open. Bought the day of the ill-fated not-a-date Radiohead concert -

- in Oklahoma.

It had only taken him a twenty minutes to get to Miami, Oklahoma, and that it took that long was due to the fact he kept looking behind himself, sure he had a big neon sign over him that read, 'Thinks he might actually have sex'. Buying the condoms at Bob's Tank 'n' Tummy, he never had gotten over the feeling that his mother was going to come up behind him and ask him what he thought he was doing.

The strange thing was, he never had taken one of the little foil packets out that night. He knew even before he had left the house that it wasn't… like that with Lana.

Closing the drawer, Clark threw the socks onto the bed with the rest of the clothes. The microwave pinged and Clark ran back downstairs, grabbing the scalding hot bowl and eating quickly. Stew done and dishes in the dishwasher, Clark sped upstairs, taking his time in the shower, rushing getting dressed when he realized it was five to seven.

Lex arrived as Clark was sitting at the kitchen table tying his boot laces. He knocked on the old screen door and let himself in. He was dressed in Lex casual; black slacks, deceptively loose tailored black leather jacket, blue shirt. Lex always looked good, but Lex casual always made him more approachable.

"Ready to go, Clark?"

"Hey, Lex." Clark flicked off the lights in the kitchen and after locking the back door, followed Lex out to the car. Clark sighed as quietly as he could. Tonight's car was worthy of a wet dream all it's own -- the black Ferrari. Clark loved the Ferraris. Both of them. The look Lex gave him as they slid into the butter soft leather and the engine started with a purr told Clark that Lex knew exactly how he felt about the Italian stallions.

Rosi's Pizzeria was on the old side of Smallville, in one of the few parts of town that had escaped unscathed from the meteors back in '89. By the time they had consumed two Caesar salads, the ordering of which left Lex with a smirk on his face, and an extra large pepperoni and black olive pizza, it was dark out.

During dinner they had talked about everything from Smallville politics, of which Lex was woefully uninformed, to Lex's new plan to improve conditions at Plant Number Three. Other things, like Chloe's Wall of Weird, came and went in the conversation, the tone light enough for Clark to relax around the mention of the meteors. On the drive back, they said little; the top down, they watched fields fly by as Lex drove too fast and Clark urged him to drive faster.

Arriving back at the farm, Lex parked the Ferrari next to the porch. Entering the kitchen, Clark went over to the counter and started looking for the bags of popcorn he had put there earlier. He turned around to see Lex standing next to him, about an arm's length away, just looking at him, a small smile curving his lips.

"What?" Clark asked, the look on Lex's face making his heart beat just a little faster.

Lex reached out a hand, and gently patted Clark's windblown hair back into place. "I was just thinking that it's a good thing your dad didn't see us on the drive back. He'd accuse me of turning you into a maniac."

Clark grinned at him and Lex pulled his hand back, leaving Clark feeling disappointed. Lex grabbed a bottle of pop from the counter and opened it, taking a deep drink. Clark threw the bag of popcorn into the microwave and rummaged in the cupboards for the big plastic bowl. Despite their huge meal, Clark made second bag of popcorn, dumping it in the bowl as Lex looked on. Grabbing the bowl and asking Lex to grab another bottle of pop, Clark led Lex to the back of the barn, where the truck sat, the projector under a tarp on the toolbox.

There was enough light from the safety lights on the barns and silos to see by, as Clark led Lex to the 'theater'. He had been out earlier in the day and had moved the hay bales from their position next to the barn to a distance of about 15 yards away. From there, they could relax and look up the screen, without having to sit in the cramped confines of the cab of the pickup. Lex grinned at him as he looked over the farm-made movie theater.

"This is great, Clark. You should go into business," Lex said, waving his hand, taking the whole thing in.

Clark laughed. "I don't know. I think my folks might not like the crowds. Come on, climb up," he said, pointing to the hay bales. Lex gave him a considering look, but gamely climbed up, ending up on the mattress of about six bales. He took the popcorn and pop that Clark handed him and waited as Clark ran over to the truck, removing the tarp and flicking the projector on.

The old cartoons began to play, and the speakers that Clark had hooked up boomed with the canned laugh track. They rested against the ziggurat of hay bales, eating the popcorn and laughing at the appropriate times, like good children raised by televisions.

The first time his fingers brushed Lex's in the bowl, Clark shied back, not wanting Lex to think - what?

That he was coming on to him?

The second time, it was Lex's fingers that lingered as they reached for the same handful of popcorn --

--and Clark's brain did a strange little shimmy, which apparently signaled his butter-covered finger to slide over Lex's palm, tracing down the love line, then up the life line. Clark looked up and saw Lex's eyes were closed, his lips pursed, tremor running through him, down into the hand Clark was still stroking. Looking at Lex's face, the stormy blue eyes still closed, Clark gently pulled Lex's hand to his lips, relieved when Lex made no move to pull his hand away.

Lex's palm was open, and Clark started at the wrist, lapping at the butter, the salty taste almost overwhelming. He followed the lines of Lex's palm, just as his fingers had done, then licked up, finally pulling a long, elegantly manicured finger into his mouth.

Lex moaned, and Clark looked over at him, finally seeing Lex's eyes were open and staring at him, heated despite their cool color. Clark sucked the finger deeper, swirling his tongue around it, letting his teeth scrape gently, ever so gently, as he pulled it free, only to take the next in line, cleaning it, the taste of Lex finally coming through, filling his senses.

When he had cleaned all the fingers, he licked down the thumb, finding the wrist again. He nipped at the pulse there, and Lex flexed his hand in Clark's. Clark let him go, only to feel Lex's hand in his hair, holding him in place as Lex turned, pushing the popcorn bowl out of the way. Clark quivered as Lex slid a leg over his, his knee coming to rest between Clark's thighs, but all thought evaporated as Lex's lips pressed against his, his lips parting at the soft slide of tongue.

Clark pushed up slightly, a tremor running through him at the feel of Lex's cock, hard against his thigh. Again, up, slide back, keeping the pressure even, hard. Lex groaned against his lips then stroked his other hand against Clark's groin, finding and pressing down on the head with exquisite pressure. Clark's hands were sliding over the leather of Lex's jacket, finding a path beneath, slipping between slacks and blue shirt, stroking smooth, soft skin.

Lex's lips were on his neck when Clark felt fingers working the zipper of his khakis. Grunting his approval, Clark leaned down to kiss the top of that smooth head. Lex shifted immediately, and Clark grabbed the initiative this time and held on, his tongue sliding over Lex's, thrusting his hips up.

"God, Clark," Lex moaned when he finally pulled free of Clark's mouth. "Do you have any idea what you're…" his voice dropped off as Clark pulled his head back down, another kiss stoking the fire, Clark's fingers struggling with the zipper of his slacks. Clark sighed as a hand slid inside his khakis, curling around his cock, still wrapped in his boxers, held tight against his body. Clark bucked upwards, taking Lex with him. He shifted enough that fingers finally found a way to the hot skin of his cock, already slick with sweat.

Clark whimpered at the touch, desperate to touch Lex in the same way, needing to touch skin, needing to touch... that skin. The zipper was down, and the boxers felt like silk, but it wasn't skin - it wasn't Lex - so it had to go. Lex lifted his head as the silk ripped, but Clark wasn't willing to let a little thing like torn fifty-dollar silk boxers stand in his way. One large hand slid between the ripped halves of the boxers, discovering soft skin, hard and tight. The other slid to the back of Lex's head; Clark stroked the soft skin with his thumb as he pulled Lex back to him, only to have Lex struggle free.

A groan of disappointment was replaced by a pained laugh as Lex started to push Clark's sweater up, sliding the undershirt with it. Tangled at his head, he was blind for a minute, then looked through the sweater with the X-Ray, shaken by the sight of Lex staring down at him, looking like one of the barn cats when their daily portion of cream was laid out for them. Then Lex was leaning forward, pulling the sweater off him, his hands resting on Clark's shoulders, then sliding down his bare arms.

Clark looked down at the hands that were sliding over his skin. When Lex paused, Clark sighed his name, willing him to touch him again. As if he knew, Lex ran his palms over the tight skin of his nipples, up and down, just the faintest hint of pressure. Back and forth, the softest of friction, the slightest of touches. The feel of a tongue on one tight nub made Clark shudder and thrust his hips up, and Lex's weight was on him quickly, pressing him into the soft hay.

Capturing Lex's tormenting hands, Clark pushed him back, letting his strength out, pressing Lex back with no quarter, no mercy. Immersed in his own need to keep Lex close.

To get him naked.

The leather jacket went quickly; he pulled Lex up, stripped it off, pushed him back down and followed with a kiss that left them both panting. The shirt, and all its cursed little buttons was a bigger challenge, but apparently Lex was feeling just as hurried, for his hands joined Clark's and the buttons were quickly dispatched, only one flying into the night as Clark pushed it over Lex's shoulders. The movie, long since forgotten, played over Lex's skin, shifting colors like a canvas. Pale and smooth, just crying out for Clark's lips and tongue.

Giving in to the call of it, Clark started in the hollow of Lex's throat, nipping, licking, tasting as his fingers tormented Lex's nipples with the same light pressure Lex had used on him. Working his way down, he took one in his mouth, worrying it, letting his teeth scrape gently.

"Clark," Lex's voice made it over the hum in his ears, and Clark drew back, his hands tracing down sweat-slicked skin. His fingers hooked into Lex's slacks when they reached his waist, and he pulled, Lex helping by lifting his hips, making Clark's mouth go dry as he saw Lex's cock rise up, feeling his own respond to the sight of the pre-come gathering on the head. Clark absently reached down and pulled Lex's shoes and socks off, finally getting rid of the slacks and boxers in an easy motion, not watching as they floated down in front of the bales of hay.

Clark finally looked at Lex, up legs that were tightly muscled and impossibly smooth. Slid his eyes over the cock, still straining, still weeping, still - there. Quickly looked up, over flat belly, back up arms that were stronger than the slim frame and bald head would make one think. Looked into those stormy eyes, eyes that could burn him if he didn't lower his head, didn't kiss him, didn't keep moving this into the realm of sex and lust and need and want.

Lex's legs slid around his hips, one hand brushing down his back to meet a leg which had already started to push his khakis off. Clark toed off his boots, using a bit too much strength, not caring how he'd have to explain the how the grommets had been torn from the leather when his parents asked. Two pairs of boots in one day would be bad, but nothing seemed to matter other than being naked with Lex, being free with Lex, being with Lex.

The khakis slid off his legs, and he lifted himself on one knee, then the other while Lex's foot ran down his leg, pushing the fabric from him, finally leaving him, like Lex, bare and aching. Lex pushed him over, and he was spread out on the hay, legs apart, cock rising from his center like the gearshift on the Ferrari, and Clark giggled with a passionate hysteria that he would be comparing himself to a car at this moment.

He closed his eyes as Lex's hand closed around him, as Lex tightened his grip and stroked, long and hard. Clark moaned as Lex jacked him, varying the pace, the touch, the speed. He wasn't going to last long, but he couldn't quite figure out how to say that, the ability to form words disappearing completely as a warm breeze touched him and then what could only be a tongue slid over him, gently licking the slit.

"Lex," Clark finally managed to bite out, remembering only the name of the man between his legs, sucking him, jacking him. The first slide of Lex's tongue, slick and wet under the foreskin, and Clark came, hips shaking as muscles tensed and spasmed. Bright lights behind his eyes, every nerve screaming, and Lex's lips still around him, knowing that Lex was drinking him in, absorbing him completely. Different than coming by his own hand, better that he could look down and see Lex's lips around him, puppies and kittens frolicking on the tarp behind him.

Even better when Lex licked up his body, finally close enough to kiss, to taste himself on Lex's tongue. Clark opened his eyes as tongues played, his back rigid as Lex pressed himself against Clark, hard and erect. One large hand stroked Lex's back, while the other slid in between them, curling around Lex, who broke the kiss with a groan, thrusting his cock into Clark's hand.

Canting Lex to the side, Clark pushed him off, settling him onto the bales. He stared at Lex for a minute, not needing to ask the question, but wondering where to begin. Lex pushed into his hand again, and Clark grasped him more firmly, letting his hand slide down to the base, then letting go to sit astride Lex's thighs, his cock rubbing against Lex's, starting to get hard again as he bent to kiss already swollen lips.

Clark kissed his way down soft, pale skin, lingering to softly bite straining muscles as Lex tried to push up. He continued, licking the moist skin, tacky from sweat, the taste of hay and Lex filling his mouth. At Lex's navel he swirled his tongue around, then dipped in, a passionately evil smile curving his lips as Lex writhed and cursed. Just a few more inches and Clark was staring at Lex's cock, hard and dusky with blood. Curiosity about taste and texture and what he could do to make Lex feel as good as he had made him feel pushing him, Clark leaned forward, licking the droplet of pre-come off the head.

One hand on Lex's hips, the other sliding down to the base to hold him, Clark slid his lips around the head, his tongue tasting, his lips pursing. At Lex's moan he did it again, this time deeper, shifting so he could go yet deeper again the next time. He started alternating sucking with jacking, listening carefully for the moans that told him that he should just do what he was doing, over and over.

"Clark. Fuck it, Clark..." Lex's voice changed timbre, and Clark looked up, seeing Lex straining forward, staring at him, his eyes narrowed. This time, when Clark swallowed Lex's cock, Lex came, filling Clark's mouth. The taste like nothing else, uniquely Lex, but it was too much, he couldn't take anymore, and a trickle slid down his chin. Clark hastily wiped it off, then wiped his fingers on the corner of a hay bale, looking up to see Lex looking at him.

Clark wanted to ask him so many questions. Was it supposed to be like this? Was he supposed to feel... this good? Was he supposed to be hard again? Was it normal for him to want to throw Lex down and just - taste him everywhere?

Lex leaned down and grabbed the hand that was still lying low on his abdomen. He pulled Clark up on top of him, smiling at Clark's relieved sigh. When Lex's hands were in his hair, forcing his head down, Clark finally relaxed, sliding his body against Lex's, losing himself in the kiss, needing the feel of Lex's body against his like air.

When they broke the kiss, Clark flipped over, but kept a leg over Lex's, as if he didn't trust him to stay put. Maybe he didn't. The tarp was full of happy puppies and kitties frolicking, and Lex started to laugh.

"What?" Clark asked, turning to him.

Lex grinned, his hand stroking Clark's hip. "Just strikes me funny, being here, like this."

Clark frowned slightly. "Oh."

Lex turned to him and kissed him, his hand still petting the rapidly drying skin of Clark's hip. "Come on, did you really think this would happen," he waved his other hand in the direction of the tarp where the credits were just beginning to run, "... on hay bales, in front of a kids' movie?"

"Well, I was kind of hoping it would, that's why..." he stopped talking and started blushing even redder as Lex stared at him.

He looked away, but Lex refused to let him, cupping his hand around Clark's cheek, pulling him closer. Clark wasn't looking at him, and Lex brought his lips to Clark's.

"Sorry," Lex said softly against Clark's mouth, his tongue sliding over soft lips, slipping inside to be met by Clark's.

When they broke apart, Clark leaned back on the hay bales and looked up into the sky. "What are you sorry about?"

"I forgot this was your first time at any of this."

"Lex, you're not making this any easier by pointing that out."

A hand stroking his chest and Clark finally turned to look at Lex again. There were goosebumps on his arms and neck. The skin on Lex's head was looking a bit puckered too, and Clark realized how much colder it probably was when you didn't have hair or superhuman invulnerability to just about everything.

"We should get dressed," Clark said softly, sitting up. Lex nodded. Clark got to his feet, balancing easily on the bales. The film ended then, and as he stood there the projector shone brightly on him, projecting a silhouette onto the barn behind them. Do you um... wanna stay here?" Lex looked up at him. "I mean, you know. In the house. With me?"

Lex stared at him, and Clark felt so... naked. Which, of course he was, standing on a hay bale, semi-erect, hanging in the breeze. Somehow, Lex, in the same condition, managed to look so much more - dressed.

There must have been something in Clark's expression, because Lex nodded slowly, giving him a look Clark couldn't quite read. "I'd like that, Clark."

It was like a weight was off his chest, the same feeling he had when Lex had gotten him down off the post in the field, when Lana's necklace had finally fallen off.

Jumping off the bales, Clark managed to find his khakis and Lex's slacks, and they pulled them on, leaving the underwear where it was. Shoes were slipped into, and Clark threw his sweater over his shoulder while Lex pulled on the blue shirt, leaving it unbuttoned. Clark flipped the projector off and unplugged the extension cord while Lex covered the machine.

Leaving everything else to be cleaned up tomorrow, they went into the house, locking the door because you never knew what was out there, in Smallville night. Clark walked backwards, pulling Lex up the stairs with him, stopping to kiss him on the landing, the top of the stairs, and against the wall in front of his room. Finally in his bedroom, he pushed the blue shirt off Lex's shoulders, while Lex worked the fly of his slacks. Clark skinnied out of his khakis and pulled Lex close, the heat of his skin against smoother and cooler skin causing them both to shudder.

"God, Clark, you're warm, and hot, and fuck..." Lex muttered as Clark's mouth came down on his. They kept their mouths locked as he pushed Lex back onto the bed, following him down.

Waking up skin to skin with Lex Luthor in his bed was definitely one of those things Clark hadn't quite been expecting, but now that it was a reality, he was quite willing to enjoy it. He turned and found his alarm clock, the bright red display read six, and Clark groaned silently. Moving slowly, he kissed Lex's naked shoulder, because it seemed to him that's what you should do when you wake up with your - boyfriend? lover? best friend? - in your bed while your parents are in Metropolis at an organic food conference.

Lex muttered in his sleep but didn't wake, and Clark, remembering his chores, was glad. If he rushed, he could be done in a half an hour, hopefully before Lex woke.

Clark grabbed some clothes from the floor and bundled them into a ball. Grabbing a pair of socks from the dresser, he crept out the door, pulling it closed behind him. Throwing on his clothes, he ran out the yard, quickly moving on to the cows, pushing them into the east pasture, where the grass was less trampled. He moved the bales in the hay mattress he had lost his virginity on back next to the barn, making sure the bales with come on them were on the bottom. He stacked the pieces of clothing and other detritus on the porch and moved on to the barn. He was in the barn when he felt eyes upon him.

Lex stood, propped up against the door, wearing his clothes only a little less elegantly than he had the night before. The jacket was nowhere to be seen, but the blue shirt was hanging open, only the last two buttons buttoned, the cuffs open. Watching Clark, he looked like a stalking cat, and the thought of Lex licking him like Boots, the mama barn cat, made Clark tremble slightly.

Lex smiled at him. "Go on, I've never watched you in action before."

Clark felt himself blushing, knowing that he looked like a large idiot, just staring at Lex, his arms full of hay. "Good morning," he managed to say as he threw the hay bale to the other side of the barn, just before his brain shut down as Lex pushed away from the wall, smooth skin revealed and hidden by the blue shirt as he walked toward Clark.

"Good morning," Lex replied before he was close enough that all it took was another step and he was molded to Clark, their bodies rubbing, as he lowered his lips to Lex's.
"So, are you busy all day?" Lex asked him, a curiously cautiously hopeful look in his eyes.

"I just need to finish this and feeding the chickens, then I'm good for the rest of the day," Clark replied.

"Hmmm." Lex looked at him, a finger tracing the collar of his t-shirt. "Anything I can do to help... speed this up?"

"Well, you can feed the chickens if you want," Clark replied jokingly.

"If it will help free you up sooner, I can do that."

Clark stared at him. "You're kidding."

"I have a MENSA level IQ, Clark. I think I can feed chickens."

Clark just grinned at him, the idea that Lex Luthor was willing to feed chickens to spend time with him amusing him in a way that despite the work yet to do, made him hard. He went over to the feed buckets on the side of the barn, grabbing the two that they used to hold the chicken feed. "Come on," he said over his shoulder.

A few minutes later, Lex was looking the chickens in amusement as Clark opened the pen and led him in. "What's so funny?" he asked Lex.

"Just thinking about a rather bad pun involving cock rings."

"Cock rings? You mean that city people actually buy their chickens jewelry?"

Lex blinked at him. "Ahh, so you've heard the joke before."

Clark gave Lex his most innocent smile. "What joke?"

Lex Luthor had never fed chickens before, and it was proving to be as uninspiring as he had thought it would be. He tossed the corn out, the little monsters started pecking, and he threw more corn out. Overall, it was deadly dull, but it did allow him some time to think about the boy in the barn.

He had called his secretary when he woke, telling her he wouldn't be in today, leaving instructions to call the cell only if it was a real emergency. He grinned at the thought of whatever drone Dominic had spying on him reporting this senseless and egregiously unprofessional action. He looked up into the clear blue sky, idly wondering if his father had already deployed the LuthorCorp satellite to find his wayward and obviously unbusinesslike son.

Lex laughed softly at the thought of getting a call on the cell, his father's voice booming in his ear. "Lex, get that kid's dick out of your mouth and get back to the office."

"What's so funny?" Lex turned to see Clark looking at him from the other side of the chicken wire.

"Nothing much. Are you just about done?"

"Yep," Clark said, that smile Lex was finding more and more addictive spreading across his face. "I'm all yours."

Lex smiled, throwing the last of the chicken feed out and leaving the little fenced-in pen. Tossing the bucket aside, he pulled Clark's mouth to his. "Yes, you are," he whispered against full lips, already thinking of ways to spend the day.

© EAS, March, 2002

Disclaimer: All canon based Smallville characters belong to WB and/or DC Comics.
I am making no money, just enjoying playing in the sandbox.

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