Archive of Our Own

You would think that after knowing someone for four years, you would get used to them.

They would become a known quantity. Commonplace. Expected.

They would no longer be a source of intrigue. You would have discovered if not all of their secrets, enough to satiate your appetite. The fire of your initial interest would fade over time because you would begin to understand the general shape of them. Their hazy outline would begin to come into focus and eventually, after four years, you could sketch the person well enough to suit your needs.

You would think that after four years, Lex would have learned all he needed to about Clark Kent.

No one can deny that he has put in the hours of study like no one else.

But Clark’s mysteries never seemed to resolve themselves into answers that made sense. They spawned new questions instead that Clark then guarded fiercely with lies and half-truths and evasion that drew more attention to them than there had been in the first place. Rubbing Lex’s nose in the fact that they existed and Clark didn’t trust him and then that too became a mystery Lex couldn’t solve. Because why would Clark go through the motions of pretending to be his friend when he so obviously couldn’t trust Lex with some fundamental part of himself? Why did that secrecy go against everything else that Lex knew and loved about Clark?

Every new piece of evidence only added to the confusion until Lex looked at every strange and unexplained phenomenon that occurred in this godforsaken small town and saw only Clark.

You would think that after four years of trying the same strategies over and over and over again to uncover those secrets, get Clark to open up, Lex would know better. The definition of insanity and all that.

But Lex did know better and he tried something new, going against every one of his better instincts.

And now that he is here, after five years of knowing Clark, he can’t argue with the results.

Lex backed off, let Clark come to him. He stopped investigating him, stopped asking questions, and found a way to keep Clark close. He closed his eyes when he saw evidence of things he couldn’t explain and kept his treacherous mouth shut when he couldn’t manage that. Only when he absolutely couldn’t take the strain anymore, when he needed someone to know just how hard he was working to hold back the tide, did he admit to Clark how much he had committed to his own ignorance. Months of pretending it didn’t hurt. Months of wanting Clark in whatever way Clark would let him have him. Pain and ecstasy all at once.

He let Clark see the hurt, the commitment, the love despite everything and finally made his way past walls that years of unrelenting investigation never managed to break down.

Clark let him in, piece by piece, and all the while Lex got to revel in the parts of Clark that Clark has always given so freely to him. The parts that no one else got to see. His innermost thoughts, his dreams, his fears. His companionship and bright smiles.

All of that as well as the new pieces for the two of them to explore together. The way that Clark kisses, his hands on Lex’s waist, what those pretty pink lips look like stretched around a cock. The sounds that he makes when they come together, how eager he always is. The confidence that Clark has now that he has finally begun to accept that he can have this, enjoy himself, take what he wants without there being something wrong with him for wanting.

You would think that after almost a year of dating, some of that initial passion would begin to fade.

The honeymoon phase is a well-known trope for a reason and not necessarily in a bad way. The feelings grow comfortable, safe, well-worn as the relationship transitions from the first blush of new love and into something more steady and mature.

Lex has known some of that himself. Granted, he doesn’t have much experience on that front—despite two failed marriages, most of his relationships never managed to get past the initial high. He thought he had known something like it with Helen, a kind of love he could rely on, low and constant, a warm ember, controlled.

Though of course, he and Helen never made it to their honeymoon.

None of that experience comes close to explaining what he has with Clark. The intensity of his feelings hasn’t faded, only grown, and Lex likes to think the feeling is mutual. Now that Clark doesn’t have anything to hide, he soaks up Lex’s attention like a plant in sunlight. And Lex is more than happy to give it to him. It’s like he managed to make a habit of his curiosity and now he can’t break it. Clark is endlessly fascinating, even more so as he allows Lex to learn more about him.

And not just Clark’s abilities, his connection to the caves, his extraterrestrial heritage. After months of being together, Lex felt pretty sure that Clark had told him everything that there was to tell in bits and pieces. The rest of it, Clark is still trying to piece together for himself. It’s something that they can work on together now that some of the guard walls have come down.

Like, how fast can Clark run? How precise is his vision? How long can he hold his breath? What does he feel when temperature variations fail to affect him? The first time Clark saw Lex in a lab coat, prepared to test Clark’s vision against a microscope, he had what could only be described as a panic attack—heart racing, hyperventilating, face flushing in a way that physical exertion never managed but emotional turmoil brought out so easily.

They stopped what they were doing immediately, giving Clark a chance to calm down. It was only after Lex turned his attention to other things, a new strain of drought-resistant seedlings that LuthorCorp was attempting to bioengineer, that Clark managed to relax. A bit of exposure therapy.

One that worked a little too well perhaps because after about fifteen minutes, Clark sidled up to Lex at the lab bench and asked what he was doing. Nothing major, just preparing a batch of samples for another round of testing—busy work that, in all honesty, he should have left to the lab techs running the study. But Lex explained the process in what he hoped was a calm and soothing voice, essentially that he was arranging seeds in a growth medium, making sure to label which ones had undergone which treatments. Clark hooked his chin over Lex’s shoulder, a warm, solid mass behind him, making it kind of difficult to keep doing what he was doing. Lex turned his head to look at him, then took a step back, setting down his tools and snapping off blue nitrile gloves before tossing them on the table. Clark stepped in immediately to claim the lost space, hands coming to Lex’s arms and looking at Lex with an interest on his face that was becoming blessedly familiar.

Suffice it to say that the lab coat was starting to make Clark scared and horny.

That too, is an aspect of Lex’s relationship with Clark that should have mellowed over time. Maybe Clark has an excuse, being all of twenty years old, only just out of adolescence and free to explore himself as a sexual entity for perhaps the first time ever. He gets to touch and kiss and fuck and simply want in a way that he has never allowed himself before. Lex, as previously stated however, has experience. Being with Clark shouldn’t make him as trigger happy as a teenager again, utterly insatiable whenever he is in Clark’s presence.

You would think there would be a limit to the amount of love you could have for one person but everyday with Clark proves to Lex that there is not.

Lex’s love for Clark has driven him to do many great and terrible things.

It fueled a years’ long investigation of Clark’s abilities and the rest of the Smallville’s secrets, with less and less concern for the havoc wreaked in the process as time went on.

It subsequently caused Lex to undertake a fundamental restructuring of LuthorCorp, weeding out all of his father’s less than ethical projects and taking a good hard look at the ones he had built himself. Clark made him want to be a better man, always, but having him at his side gave him the courage to believe it of himself for the first time in a long time.

And now, it brought him to the public beach along Crater Lake. Willingly subjecting himself to the kind of stares and gossip that only a small town is capable of. Truly, Metropolis high society has nothing on the rumor mill that is Smallville. Here, the locals aren’t afraid to openly gawk when town darling, caterpillar-turned-butterfly, Clark Kent shows up half-naked and beaming to the one true place to beat the heat for miles around with local billionaire and town blackguard, Lex Luthor, on his arm.

For once, Lex can be reasonably sure that the eyes on him right now aren’t there to see if he really is hairless beneath his buttoned up silk shirts—he is, and the bathing suit he is wearing does nothing to disguise that. No, everyone is far more concerned with the fact that they are here together; how close they sit, the way they touch each other, their smiles and laughter and the way that they look at one another.

If even a fraction of their interest seemed to affect Clark, Lex would have them out of here in an instant, forget the sweet-but-ultimately-inane idea Clark has about being out in public with Lex, getting people used to the idea of the two of them together. Instead, Clark is utterly invulnerable to their stares and the snide whispers he can undoubtedly hear.

He is happy, the absolute picture of it, sun-soaked and radiant. His smile is wide enough to reveal those sharp canines at the corners. His eyes are bright, sparkling like the sun on the water. And Lex would endure just about anything for Clark to stay just like this.

So here he is, lounging on the beach in a bathing suit and sunglasses, sprawled on a towel with a book in hand, absently praying to the clear blue sky for rain.

But it’s not so bad. Clark has had a chance to say hi to his friends. Chloe is perfectly happy to sun bathe with her own reading material in tow. Lana should be here in about fifteen minutes after her monthly check-in at the Talon. And Lois has found a few unsuspecting guys to hustle while playing volleyball. Truly, things could not be going better.

Then Clark nudges his foot and Lex peers down at him over his sunglasses. “Come on,” Clark says. “Let’s go do something.”

“We are doing something,” Lex points out, gesturing at the three of them laid out on the sand. It’s not his fault Clark failed to bring a book with him.

“You look like you’re actively trying to have a bad time,” says Clark. He’s smiling while he says it, so Lex will give him a pass for it but he really doesn’t appreciate the concern. So what if he’s got a bit of a resting bitch face with the glasses on?

Clark pushes on, heedless. “Let’s go swimming. You’ve read that already anyway.”

Which might explain some of Lex’s inability to focus on it, the watchful eyes of the average Smallville gossip aren’t enough to phase him on a normal basis. Lex had assumed it had something to do with showing this much skin in public but now that he thinks about it, he just might not be cut out for casual beach reading.

“He’s going to sit their with those puppy dog eyes until you give in anyway,” says Chloe, not looking up from her book. “You might as well burn off some of that nervous energy before Lana gets here.”

“I’m not nervous about seeing Lana,” Clark insists.

He is though. He would never say it but there is something a little strange about spending time with the girl you once thought you were in love with and the man you are currently dating. With Lana and Chloe off doing their own thing with an apartment of their own in Metropolis and Clark staying home to attend Kansas State, they haven’t had the chance to spend as much time together during the semester as any of them would have liked. With Clark transferring in the fall, things should be easier, any lingering discomfort falling away but for now, Clark and Lana are still figuring out what it means to be friends instead of navigating the uneasy dance they’ve both gotten used to.

Lex gets the feeling that his presence makes that easier and harder at the same time, not that he really has any interest in wading into that dynamic any more than he already has. When the three of them are together, it’s easier for both of them to remember who Clark has chosen to be with. Who he is happier with, Lex likes to think.

This is Clark and Lex’s last weekend in Smallville. The end of summer and the start of something new. Clark begins his first semester at Met U this week. Lex has spent the last month renovating his apartment in Metropolis. Officially, they are not moving in together. Clark is slated to move into his picture perfect 12x12 cinder-block dorm room on Monday. Lex is almost completely certain that Clark is bound to spend next to no time there beyond his first initial taste of freedom but he has been so excited at the prospect of imagining his room and finally moving out that Lex has tactfully kept himself from breathing a word against it.

Everything is changing and for the better this time. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t some nerves attached to everything even still.

“Of course not,” Lex says easily. “You’re just bored and we can fix that.”

He sets Fire From Heaven aside, more than a little bored with it himself. Clark’s right, it’s hard for the book to hold up to a re-reading, much less to get much out of the romance and destiny of the story with Clark lying warm, golden, and living beside him. Reality has a bit more to offer him than fiction at the moment.

Clark brightens up and stands from where he was reclined on the sand. He offers Lex a hand up and Lex has only to place his hand in Clark’s before he is on his feet as well, his orientation going from horizontal to vertical in one smooth pull. The fact that it puts him in Clark’s arms for a brief second is merely a bonus.

“You two have fun,” Chloe says before Clark leads him to the water.

The lake is practically bathwater warm for the first few feet which Lex doesn’t mind. Clark refuses to put up with any of Lex’s attempts to get used to the water before completely submerging himself and instead goes to the end of the long dock to dive in.

He doesn’t mean to make a show of it, Clark just can’t help the way his beautifully sculpted arms stretch up over head and his body leaps into a perfect athletic arc.

Lex wades in up to his chest, just far enough that he can see Clark emerge from his dive a few yards out from the dock. His head bobs above the surface and he gives it a shake like a dog to get his hair out of his face. The smile he sends Lex’s way when he spots him is incandescent. He is unfairly gorgeous when he is happy.

Deciding he is deep enough to go all in and not really enjoying the way the water at his feet is cold near the slimy mud lake bed, Lex pitches forward in a dive of his own, swimming out towards Clark. The first few seconds submerged are cool enough to make Lex shiver but once he gets moving, the initial chill passes.

He meets Clark out past the end of the dock and the swimming platform that a couple of teenagers have commandeered and are using to sunbathe and dive back into the water when they get too hot, far past the rest of the swimmers. Once they’re in range of each other again, Lex lets himself float onto his back to look up at the sky. With his ears beneath the surface of the water, the world is blissfully silent. It’s kind of nice, really. Maybe Clark had a point about getting into the water.

And then something cinches tight around his ankle and pulls him sharply downward.

He gets half a second to snatch a bare fraction of a breath before he goes under. His first response is torn halfway between getting whatever is on him off of him and getting to the surface again as quickly as possible. That just leaves him flailing for a moment, which is embarrassing. One of his wild kicks does manage to hit something though. The pressure around his ankle gives way and is replaces by an arm around his chest.

Lex breaches the surface with a ragged gasp and turns around immediately to confront the bastard behind him.

Hitting him isn’t going to do anything but hurt Lex’s hand so Lex settles for splashing Clark about as hard and as often as he can. Over and over, wave after wave of it, while Clark laughs. At least he can’t see the murder on Lex’s face anymore.

But the torrent of water is only allowed to happen because Clark lets it. As soon as he has enough, he launches himself forward and tackles him, grabbing hold of Lex’s arms in the process. They don’t go under the water again but it’s a near thing.

“You are such a bastard,” Lex sputters. “And to think I was kind enough to entertain you when you were acting like a child.”

Clark’s grin softens in the face of Lex’s anger but it doesn’t leave him completely. “I’m sorry,” he says and God damn him, he even sounds like he means it. “You just looked so peaceful I couldn’t help myself.”

Lex rolls his eyes. “Right. Let’s see if I ever let my guard down around you ever again.”

“Oh no,” Clark says, his eyes going wide with mock-innocence. “Never again? And there’s absolutely nothing I can do to get you to relax?”

His arms snake around Lex’s waist and part of Lex wants to bat them away. It’s not just his annoyance with Clark, he needs to swim under his own power a little longer just to remind himself that he can and lower his heart-rate a little.

He doesn’t though, because there is something strange about swimming with Clark, one of his abilities that neither of them has really been able to quantify just yet. Clark never really had to learn to swim. He has always been strong enough, fast enough that any little movement he made in the direction of the surface or the place he wanted to go just worked. He never had to figure out what the proper form looked like and so often when Clark is attempting a front crawl at a human’s pace, he looks a bit like he is punching the water.

But when Clark isn’t thinking about the act he has to put on to swim normally, when he forgets himself, he tends to simply… float. He doesn’t have to scull his arms and tread water. He doesn’t need any of the strokes Lex was taught as a child to keep himself aloft. It’s a bit like flying, if that were a thing Clark were capable of. Perfectly suspended by his own buoyancy, he glides smoothly through the water with only the barest thought for where he is trying to go. He can’t control it if he thinks too hard about it but in this moment for example, he wants to hold Lex even though the lake floor out here must be fifteen, twenty feet beneath them. The typical movement of legs and arms to keep them afloat would make that an uncomfortable position to hold for any length of time and yet Clark just… does it.

So Lex lets himself be held. And despite his best efforts, he doesn’t hate it.

“What now?” Lex asks. “You dragged me out here, refused to let me enjoy it. What’s your game?”

“No game,” says Clark. “Maybe I just wanted to get you alone for a while.”

The middle of the lake doesn’t really constitute alone. There’s even a teenager on lifeguard duty for the rectangular section of buoys near the shore that is probably watching them with significant worry right about now, not to mention the people who couldn’t keep their eyes off of them before.

“If you wanted alone we could have headed back to the mansion.”

But that isn’t quite what Clark wanted. Clark wanted to show off. He wanted to make their happiness public even though public is not a word normally associated with one Clark Kent. Lex isn’t even sure that Clark realizes what he wanted, isn’t sure that that he can put it into words for himself. But Lex is confident that this is it exactly. He wants Lex to wear his letterman jacket and to walk down main street holding hands. He wants to give Lex a kiss on the cheek in the Talon so that everyone knows that he is his. All perfectly innocent fantasies, the stuff that high school dreams are made of, except for who they are and where they are, the things they would not change for the world but tend to make life difficult.

“I want to be here,” Clark says. “With you and my friends. Nothing for either of us to worry about for just a little while.”

And the part of Lex that has always wanted to give Clark what he wants, because he deserves it, because he asks for such small and simple things that he shouldn’t have to ask for, they should just be his by right, gives in.

“Alright then,” Lex agrees slowly. “But that still leaves my question. Just because we’re in the water does not give you free rein to grope me in public.”

His mind helpfully takes him back to the night the two of them got together last summer, Clark driving him out in his dad’s truck to a more secluded area of the lake, Lex daring Clark to skinny dip with him. The water was freezing but Clark was powerfully warm. With the two of them entirely bare to each other, Lex’s whole world seemed to narrow to the places where he and Clark touched.

It’s a feeling not entirely dissimilar from what he is experiencing now, Clark like an anchor point in the middle of the lake. If he were to let go, Lex would have to tread water again, make his way back to shore. Things like gravity and the way his body moves through the water would have meaning again after being relegated to mere background noise from sheer proximity with Clark. And Clark doesn’t even seem to realize he’s doing it most of the time, rearranging Lex’s existence by simple presence.

Or maybe he does, because he leans in and gives Lex the briefest of kisses. Soft lips and light pressure, just enough to make Lex close his eyes and give in before pulling away again. It takes him a second to think about chiding Clark for doing something like that in public but Lex can look out at the beach over Clark’s shoulder. Between the angle and the distance from shore, Clark knew what he was doing.

He lets Lex go a little then, defusing the tension building between them with a bit of regret.

“We could race,” Clark suggests hopefully. “From here to that buoy over there? I’ll even let you win.”

“Because I love being allowed to win.”

Clark cocks his head to the side. “I thought you were the type to believe a win’s a win.”

“I’ve learned to appreciate the value of a fair fight.”

Clark grins and sidles up close to him again. “What would you know about a fair fight?”

Lex presses his lips together to keep from grinning back and mostly fails, that look on Clark’s face always proves infectious. “Speak for yourself.”

Clark leans back and spreads out long, thinking. “We could play tag? Red light, green light?”

“Not really beating the allegations of childishness.” But Lex doesn’t really mean anything by it. He likes the way Clark can make him feel younger, feel his age as opposed to the responsibilities of someone ten, twenty years older.

“You’re always so eager to test my abilities. Why don’t we test yours? You can swim to the bottom of the lake, see how long you can hold your breath, and establish an average human baseline.”

Lex lunges for Clark’s shoulders while the two of them laugh. “I’m considered well above average by most metrics and you know it.”

God, maybe they should get out of here. Lex isn’t sure how much longer he can be expected to keep his hands off of Clark.

All of this will be so much easier in Metropolis. Granted, it will feel a whole lot easier with more clothes on than they do presently but that isn’t all of what Lex is feeling now. In Metropolis, they can go to a restaurant or a baseball game or a museum without anyone really batting an eye. They’ve made the decision to not be out as a couple for Clark’s sake as he makes his way through college but it isn’t as though they will have to hide their friendship. Despite the fact that there are far more eyes in the big city to see them hold each other’s hands or sit too close together, fewer of those eyes really care. And Lex is so ready to not care too. They both are.

None of which are productive thoughts to have at the moment. They can’t change any of that; they just have to endure it for a weekend more at most.

“Race you to the platform,” Lex says and takes off in the direction of the shore.

The way there isn’t smooth or easy. Lex gets off to a good start but Clark is quick to catch his ankle again which devolves into another pseudo-wrestling match in the water about halfway between where they started and where they intend to finish.

“I’m going to kill you,” Lex muses, while trying his best to drown Clark while they both laugh breathlessly.

“Good luck with that,” says Clark, smiling sunnily.

They make it to the platform eventually, but Lex insists on swimming past it.

“Where are you going?” Clark asks.

“Somewhere my best friend—” he manages to say it in such a way that they both hear loving boyfriend “—can’t drown me on a whim.”

In a few clumsy kicks, Clark catches up to him. “Come on, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I promise.”

“I’m getting pruny anyway,” says Lex, wiggling his fingers at him.

“Fine.”

The agreement comes a little too quickly for comfort and Lex knows something is up when Clark swims closer to get one arm behind Lex’s back and another beneath his knees.

“What are you doing?” Lex’s voice is flat and low.

“We’re getting out,” says Clark. He brings his feet down to walk along the bottom of the lake and take slow and steady steps toward shore.

“I can get out on my own,” Lex says, as the water starts to get shallower, going from shoulder height to chest height. He can feel his weight settle heavier into Clark’s arms with each step.

“Put me down,” Lex insists. This was funny at first but no part of him wants the entire beach to see Clark bridal carrying him out of the water.

“Oh, you want to keep swimming now?” Clark asks innocently.

“You are such a bastard,” Lex says, turning his face in towards Clark’s chest. “Everyone thinks Clark Kent is so good, so honest, so helpful but I know the truth—”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

“You’re smarter and more devious than anyone will ever get to know,” Lex says. “And you’re absolutely mine.”

Lex thinks, hopes that will be enough to distract Clark and get him to put him down though the heated look in Clark’s eyes suggests something else entirely.

And then Lex overhears something that throws a bucket of ice water over their whole day at the lake, maybe their whole final weekend in Smallville.

“Look at the two of them. It’s bad enough that Kent’s running off to Metropolis to be Luthor’s pet but do they have to come around here and rub our noses in it? They’re giving this town a bad name.”

“Come on, they’ve always been attached at the hip. They’ve been at each other for years now.”

“Yeah, and what about last summer? Luthor’s pool boy? Yeah right. His pool wasn’t the only thing being serviced that summer. Probably grooming him for the kind of life they lead now. I bet Luthor’s money is the only thing keeping all sorts of nastiness out of the papers.”

Lex doesn’t turn to look, doesn’t need to. Two young men somewhere near the shore, talking about him and Clark like they couldn’t possibly be overheard. Or perhaps, like they want to be heard, are just waiting for the looks of shock and hurt or the potential confrontation that probably arises on the regular from the terminal condition of having a mouth but no brain.

“Those guys were on the football team my year,” says Clark, low enough for only Lex to hear.

Yeah, that doesn’t surprise Lex even a little. Clark might have blossomed in their eyes from scarecrow to quarterback in his senior year but Lex will never forget the night he found Clark strung up in that cornfield.

And then Lex spots another reason for Clark to put him down as soon as Kryptonianly possible. “Lana’s here.”

So much for taking Clark’s mind off of his Lana-anxiety.

Clark lets go of Lex’s legs. They are still deep enough that most of the bridal carry went unnoticed by their fellow beach goers and being let down doesn’t create too much of a splash. Lex takes Clark’s hand as they wade back to shore and refuses to let go of it.

“If you feel like going after them, I’ll take care of the assault charges,” Lex murmurs to Clark. He doesn’t really mean it—well, he does but he mostly says it as a joke. Clark doesn’t dive into confrontations for his own sake, only for the sake of others. He rarely lashes out in anger, always so careful to keep his abilities under tight control.

Clark shakes his head and squeezes Lex’s hand but it doesn’t quite work to lift Clark’s mood.

If Lex thought that Clark would let him, he would whisk him away from here in an instant. Take him back to the mansion or better yet his apartment in Metropolis, wrap him up in silk sheets like he is something delicate and never let him leave. Because maybe Clark is some kind of invulnerable but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need to be protected. And it has become the greatest honor of Lex’s life to be given even the smallest opportunity to do just that.

Clark turns it on by the time they reach their chairs and towels with Lana waiting for them beside Chloe in shorts and a swimsuit. She comes in to give each of them a hug hello despite them both being dripping wet.

“I’m wearing a bathing suit and I haven’t seen you two in forever,” she says, reaching up to get her arms around Clark. Then she comes over to Lex and gives him a quick peck on the cheek. “Sorry I’m late, I could not get out of the city this morning.”

“Glad you could make it,” says Clark.

And then they’re off. Clark is too good at that, making his own hurt into something so small that it cannot be seen with the naked eye. Like it doesn’t matter, someone or something else always taking priority. But Lex knows him, knows that it is still there in the background bothering him even as he spends time with his friends.

They talk about their class schedules for the fall, the teachers they’ve had and what they’re in store for. Lex is even able to chime in a bit about his brief time on the Met U campus when he hears a name he recognizes from years ago and a few more recent—one from a lecture he attended last year, another he’s been eyeing to make the switch from academia to private research, and a professor he spent the night with two years or so ago after a gala. He knows better than to mention that part out loud in this particular gathering but he does say that she seemed like a decent history professor if any of them are stuck taking Western Civ I.

“You two should come by our apartment at the end of the week,” Lana suggests. “It’s so much nicer than the place we were in last semester. We can check in, celebrate surviving the week, call it a house warming party.”

It’s a generous offer and more than Lex really thought to expect. But then, maybe he shouldn’t have underestimated Clark’s friends or the pull he seems to have on everyone around him. Of course he and Lana would never let any kind of awkwardness sit between them for long. And maybe Lex himself has spent too long around Clark himself because even he has this sense that everything is going to work out just fine for all of them. Of course it will.

Lex looks over at Clark and sees him staring a little dumbfounded. So he takes Clark’s hand in his and tells Lana, “Of course we’ll be there.”

After the lake, he brings Clark back to the mansion with a plan beginning to take shape in mind. Something to take Clark’s mind off of his friends and this town and Lana and their upcoming move.

Clark loves their life together, so much so that even Lex has convinced himself of it which is no mean feat. Lex takes nothing about his position in the lives of anyone he cares about for granted, knows this about himself, his insecurity and need for control. But being with Clark for this long has given him something resembling certainty on this front: for whatever reason, Clark is happy with him. He seeks Lex out, takes every opportunity to entwine their lives together. For God’s sake, if it were legal, Lex almost suspects he would be fending off a marriage proposal some time soon, one that he would have very little hesitation in accepting.

So Lex means to remind him of that, to show him that all of the happiness they have found in their lives so far is only the beginning. That no one gets a say in what their relationship looks like but them. And Lex intends to do that right where their relationship got its official start.

They have the rest of the weekend to spend together in the midst of final preparations for their move so Lex has a bit of time to put his plan into motion. The first step is selecting the proper costuming for the encounter, something Lex goes about with great care. Back when he and Clark first came up with the idea of a summer job working for Lex in order to get back at his father, Clark had asked him if being Lex’s pool boy came with a uniform.

With a barely restrained flush of arousal, Lex managed to keep his composure enough to tell him there wasn’t. But now Lex lays out a pair of khaki shorts with a six inch inseam, a white polo shirt and brown leather boat shoes for Clark to wear—an outfit Clark would never choose to wear of his own volition, whole or in parts.

Then comes his own ensemble. There is something fun about picking out something a heightened version of himself might wear. Lex did a bit of this last summer, strutting out onto the patio in a more relaxed version of his typical work clothes and he had been fairly pleased with the results. Clark hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of him in teal blue, a few buttons undone at the top of his shirt, unwinding by the pool while Clark worked.

But Lex was opting for a more conservative look then than the one he is aiming for now. Back then, Lex still wanted something that was easily deniable. His goal for that summer was to avoid pushing Clark too far even if he couldn’t keep himself from pushing Clark at all. Today, Lex wants to look like the man everyone in town feared that he was. He wants to look the part of the playboy, the lecher, the richest man anyone around here has every seen, ready to take advantage of a sweet and innocent Kansas farm boy.

He wants Clark to look at him and fall to his knees, knowing without a thought passing through his pretty head that that is where he is meant to be.

His hand hovers over a silk robe in his closet, his fingers ghosting the fine fabric. All black with a simple sash tie at the waist. A bit dramatic but then, that’s what he is going for isn’t it? And then paired with a white thong he was planning on saving for a trip to Greece in the winter… that might do it.

He spends the rest of the day thinking about how he is going to approach Clark with this idea tomorrow. They have plans to visit his parents in the morning and the afternoon free. Maybe once they return to the mansion, Lex can have Clark change and wait for him by the pool while he gets ready.

He doesn’t plan on making Clark wait for very long, just enough to build some anticipation for what is to come. There is no real guarantee of how long Clark’s patience will hold once he gets even an inkling of what Lex has in store for him. Clark has it in him to be good though, especially with the reward Lex has in mind if he waits.

Clark is brighter but still a little subdued as they return to the mansion after seeing his parents and beginning to pack up the truck with his dorm supplies. Lex can’t be sure exactly what rattled Clark so badly yesterday, what they overheard from those two assholes, the tentative reconciliation he has with Lana, or the larger prospect of everything changing in a few days’ time simply weighing down on him. If he didn’t already have a plan in mind for lifting Clark’s mood, Lex might have suggested leaving Smallville altogether as soon as possible. They don’t need this place, truthfully they have both long outgrown it. But Lex’s plan will do more than improve Clark’s mood. He will rewrite their place in this town, show Clark that all of those nasty little whispers cannot touch them.

Clark is the only one that gets to decide who he is and what he wants. No one else.

Lex brings the car up to front of the mansion and leads Clark over to the side entrance where he pulls Clark close and kisses him soundly. They have been through this way before a dozen times, when Clark would come by to drop off produce in the kitchen before joining Lex in the study. Even with this simple gesture, Lex gets to reframe a dozen different memories of bringing Clark into his home into something more tender and intimate, the prelude to what they have now.

“What are we doing here?” Clark asks when they separate. “Something to tell Lucinda?”

“Actually, I gave the staff the rest of the day off,” says Lex. “I wanted a bit of privacy.”

Clark was probably about to ask what Lex planned on doing for dinner without a cook before the second part sinks in enough to bring such questions to a halt. Lex figures Clark probably won’t mind if they call out for pizza later and watch movies in the den or else the kitchen is fully stocked, they can make do just like they did after Lex’s party last summer, one of the best meals Lex had had in a long time up to that point.

They step into the kitchen and Lex leads Clark over to the set of staff lockers in a side room, one of which is open already, waiting for them.

Clark eyes Lex skeptically. “What is this?”

There is a smile playing at Clark’s lips. He doesn’t know what is going on just yet but he is willing to wait and see. Lex rewards him with another peck on his lips.

“Put those on and meet me by the pool in a half hour.” In all of his planning, Lex though about simply sending Clark away with an order: wait for me. But he decided Clark could do with a bit more direction than that.

“And what are you going to be doing for a half hour?” asks Clark.

Lex allows a smile to spread across his face. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

He leaves Clark to his own devices then, making his way up to his bedroom and executing a costume change of his own. He slips a bottle of tanning oil into the pocket of his robe and then examines himself in the mirror in order to ensure that the weight of it there doesn’t alter the fall of the fabric too badly.

Waiting in his bedroom, with the bottle of oil in one hand and daydreaming about Clark smelling like vanilla, cedar and rosewater, Lex idly considers opening himself up on his fingers and seducing Clark that way. He did give himself plenty of time for Clark to wonder what he might be up to. He doesn’t even necessarily have to act on it once he fingers himself for a bit, just edge himself a little in preparation for the main event.

But what Lex really wants is to get his hands on Clark, the sooner the better. So after about twenty-five minutes of stalling, he heads downstairs in his robe, sandals and sunglasses and gets ready for show time.

He finds Clark almost exactly where he should be, waiting for him by the pool. He is sitting on a lounge chair in the clothes Lex left for him, looking a little uncomfortable about the shorts, too short or too tight or both. When he sees Lex, he stands up from the chair, the expression on his face already worth the planning that went into this a thousand times over. Clark is stunned speechless, his mouth hanging open with pure want written into his features.

It’s more than a little flattering.

Lex lowers his sunglasses with one hand and then takes them off to let one arm dangle by his lips. It takes everything in him to keep his expression entirely disinterested but then he was trained by the best. “Don’t you have a job to get back to?”

Clark blinks. Tries for a couple of seconds to form words with lips that don’t seem to want to cooperate, then blinks again. “What?”

Lex gives Clark a look up and down as though seeing him for the first time. The uniform looks cute on him. The polo stretches perfectly across the breadth of his shoulders and chest and his legs look incredible in those fairly tiny shorts. Lex can’t wait to see them from behind. “I hired you to be my pool boy, remember?”

There is a brief moment where Lex thinks that Clark won’t get it or that he won’t play along with the outfits and the roles Lex has placed them in. The confusion on his face wars with clear desire to get Lex onto one of those lounge chairs as soon as possible and unwrap him like a present and Lex isn’t sure which one will win out. But then Clark manages to close his mouth, gather his wits together, and eye Lex with something more knowing in his gaze.

“Right,” Clark says, quickly. “Sorry about that, Mr. Luthor.”

Lex has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. Seems like two can play at this game after all.

“Please, Mr. Kent, I’ve told you to call me Lex.” They both move to take their places, Lex on the lounger and Clark by the side of the pool grabbing the skimmer to fish for imaginary leaves.

He leans back against the chair with one leg long and outstretched. The other knee he leaves bent and cocked ever so slightly to one side. He isn’t about to rid himself of the robe just yet—there is an art to a slow and careful seduction—but he can draw the eye exactly where he wants it to be when Clark chances a look over at him.

He watches Clark at work for a little while, eyeing him with his sunglasses perched on his forehead. He does so far more openly than he did when Clark actually worked for him, drinking in his fill of golden skin and the gentle flex of super strong muscles.

“You know, you have been a very hard worker these last few weeks, Mr. Kent. You’re more than due a bit of a break after being out in the sun all day.”

Clark turns to him, blinking a little slowly, affecting innocence rather effectively. “It’s Clark, sir. If you would like me to call you Lex, it’s only right that you should call me Clark.”

God, they should have done this ages ago. Clark is a terrible liar but he is a great actor. The sincerity and earnestness in his voice could be bottled up and sold for millions to the thousands of hopeless actors in Hollywood. Lex knows this isn’t real and yet he can feel himself wanting to be convinced by it, pulled in despite himself.

“Well Clark, maybe you should join me over here and I can show you just how much I appreciate your hard work.”

Lex likes to think he carried off that softcore porn line well, not hanging on to the idea of Clark’s hard work for too long. But he also knows that if he catches the faintest bit of amusement on Clark’s face, he is liable to burst out laughing.

“Are you sure, Lex?” Lex isn’t sure that he has ever heard his name from Clark’s mouth with such hesitation, not even when they first met. “I’m almost done. I’ll be out of your way in a minute.”

“Nonsense. You can take up the same seat you were in earlier.”

Clark does as he is told, sitting down on the chair opposite Lex but keeping himself upright, as professional as he can manage and ready to be taken apart. “I promise I wasn’t slacking off earlier,” says Clark.

“I don’t think you’re capable of slacking off, Clark.”

Lex has said something like that to Clark before. His faith in the good manners instilled in Clark since childhood, his innate goodness, his sense of justice remain unshakable even after getting to know Clark better. You would think Lex might have better reason than anyone to be disillusioned with the untouchable ideal of Clark Kent but learning Clark’s secrets has managed to rewrite so many of Lex’s past grievances against him, reframing his lies as justifiable fears, the anxieties of youth and inexperience.

Lex knows better than anyone that Clark isn’t perfect but seeing those imperfections more clearly has only given him more to love and admire about the man Lex has in front of him.

“In fact, while you’re here, there is something you could help me with,” Lex continues, as though the thought is just occurring to him.

“Anything,” says Clark and Lex smiles to reward his eagerness.

“Would you mind helping me with my sunscreen?”

Lex hands him the slim little bottle and pulls the tie of his robe free. The silk slides effortlessly to reveal miles of smooth, pale skin and his tiny bathing suit.

Clark nearly drops the glass bottle. “Lex…”

He lets the robe fall from his shoulders and he turns his back to Clark. “Just here should do it,” he says, bringing a hand to one shoulder blade.

Clark moves closer to sit behind him on Lex’s chair. Lex reaches behind him to take one of Clark’s hands in his and guide him where he needs to be.

“Like this?” breathes Clark. His hand is big and warm against the bare skin of Lex’s shoulder.

“Perfect.”

Clark opens the bottle and Lex can smell the warm, sweet scent of the oil. When Clark brings it to Lex’s skin, his touch is gentle and lingering like Lex is something delicate he doesn’t want to break, something precious he wants to handle with care. Lex isn’t sure that he has ever been that to anyone but he can feel it in the way that Clark’s hands caress him, the firm press his fingers and palms give to muscles and tendons. The knowledge that those same hands are capable of unbelievable strength but are used with such tenderness instead and for Lex is a heady thing.

Lex takes a deep breath and angles his head to one side, giving Clark better access to his neck. From behind him, Clark’s breath is a cool whisper across oiled skin, a touch without a physical weight behind it. He groans a little as Clark’s hands gain confidence, massaging into the connective muscle between his neck and his shoulders.

When Clark has given both shoulders a once over, Lex turns and stops him from going further with his hand on Clark’s. He doesn’t actually need the sun protection—his meteor mutation makes him much harder to burn than when he was a child though most of his doctors agree that limited radiation exposure of any sort is probably for the best. He just wants Clark’s hands on him, getting him ready before turning the tables on him.

“You poor thing,” Lex says. “You’ve been out here all day without sunscreen on. You have to allow me to return the favor.”

He says it in such away that leaves Clark no room to argue. He has to let Lex do this. There is simply no other choice.

“I can do it myself,” Clark offers, which is exactly the kind of thing Clark would have said if he was still Lex’s employee.

Lex offers him a smile. “It’s so much easier with another person.” He takes the bottle from Clark and turns around to face him fully. “Here, if you take off your shirt, I’ll be sure not to miss any spots.”

The expression on Clark’s face is torn between the act he is putting on and his eagerness to follow through with this game Lex has put into motion. He does as he is told though, undoing the two buttons at his collar unnecessarily before pulling his shirt off over his head. So much of him revealed all at once. He shakes his hair out a little once it’s off where it has started growing long again.

“Why don’t you lie back and I’ll get started?” says Lex, while a hand on Clark’s chest presses him down slowly. Clark bites his lower lip as he complies, a fiendishly innocent look that Lex knows is perfectly calculated.

Lex settles into a position straddling Clark’s thighs and then pours a thin stream of oil directly onto Clark’s chest. It trickles between Clark’s pectorals in a way that makes Clark shiver. Then Lex takes him in hand, firmly cupping each muscular swell to spread out the oil, thumbing over each pink nipple to give them a faint sheen. Clark lets out a gasp that sounds so real that Lex’s eyes flicker up to his and he catches Clark looking mischievous and knowing rather than guileless.

Clark seizes that moment of mutual recognition and moves faster than Lex can really follow to bring one oily hand to Lex’s face and kiss him.

“What are we doing, Lex?” Clark murmurs, his lips hardly leaving Lex’s skin. Their noses bump against each other as they both find room to breathe.

“What everyone assumed we were doing last summer,” Lex says. “What they think we’re up to now. It doesn’t matter whether it’s true or not. I want to show you it’s not so bad being mine.”

Clark kisses him sweetly, long and slow. Lex can taste the smile on his lips. “I know that.”

“Do you?” asks Lex. He runs a hand up Clark’s chest and pinches the bud one of his nipples. “Normally, I’d agree with you but the past few days suggest otherwise. I didn’t think a few obnoxious locals and one awkward conversation with Lana was enough to make you doubt.”

The clouds roll in over Clark’s expression at the reminder. “They’re not. But you can’t tell me it doesn’t bother you to hear people say that kind of thing about us. People from around here who are supposed to know us.”

Lex throws his arms around Clark’s shoulders as he lets his head fall back, keeping himself balanced. He doesn’t really need to let Clark the eye roll he knows he won’t be able to suppress.

“I’m no stranger to unsavory rumors, Clark, especially not from around here,” says Lex. When it looks like Clark is about to interrupt, Lex silences him with a kiss then takes advantage of Clark’s recovery to keep going. “But I know that’s not what you’re used to.”

No, Clark is used to blending in and going unnoticed in his hometown. He spent his childhood and adolescence making sure that he didn’t draw attention to himself and his secrets. Being talked about at all is a new experience for him and Clark has never enjoyed the prospect of being different.

Lex wishes he could tell Clark that things in Metropolis will be different and have Clark believe him but it’s the sort of thing you have to experience for yourself. Life in the big city isn’t magically perfect, people say all sorts of nastiness all the time there, easy as breathing. But in Metropolis, that kind of talk is always something that happens elsewhere, done amongst people you’ve never met, in a way that doesn’t tend to touch you. There is a good chance you can ignore gossip if you don’t go looking for it. But as they saw yesterday, gossip in Smallville is personal.

Lex has years of experience in ignoring what other people have to say about him. He isn’t nearly as good at it as he would like to be but he knows better than to believe that anyone else could possibly understand what he and Clark are to each other.

“I could waste my breath telling you that what they think doesn’t matter,” says Lex stroking Clark’s bicep, absently spreading a bit more of the oil around. “But you already know that. So the next time you hear something like that, about all the things they think we got up to last summer, the kind of relationship they think we have, I want you to think about this and remember that they have no clue what they’re talking about.”

He gives Clark a serious look, fully breaking character to get his agreement on this. “Okay?” he asks.

Clark nods.

Lex brings a slick hand down to Clark’s bare thigh and slides it up to play with the hem of his rather short shorts. “Now, what do you think those guys thought we were getting up to last summer?”

“Didn’t you just say it doesn’t matter what they think?”

“Of course it doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean whatever dirty little fantasy they came up with might not be fun. Now come on, what do you think people thought when they heard I hired you to be my pool boy.” He moves his other hand to Clark’s thigh too, massaging the muscle there and hopefully giving Clark some hints. “You seemed to have something in mind before.”

Clark bites at his lower lip and looks away from Lex forcefully. Oh, there is something there for sure. Just the thought of whatever is making the tips of Clark’s ears red is enough to intrigue Lex.

“Yeah?” Lex asks, leaning in closer, placing a hand at Clark’s waist. “What is it?”

Clark huffs a laugh and looks at Lex squarely, a rueful smile gracing the corner of his lips. “Well they said something about being serviced, right? Grooming?”

Lex could care less what they actually said, he just wants to see where Clark is going with this.

Clark glances down at the bottle of oil placed on a side table for safe keeping. Perhaps he isn’t just thinking about what two homophobic assholes think men who like men get up to in their private lives but putting together the pieces of the scenario Lex set into motion for them. “They probably imagine you would want to use me. Flatter me, spoil me with luxury, and then have your way with me.”

Have your way with me. Someone has been reading his mother’s romance novels but it isn’t as though Lex disapproves.

Clark takes up the bottle of oil and brings his other hand to Lex’s. “I know what this looks like. I’m younger and you’re more experienced. Other people look at us and find it all too easy to assume that you’re taking advantage of me and I hate that.”

“We both know it’s not true,” Lex soothes.

“But what you’re asking is, what would it be like to be taken advantage of. What if you did make your move earlier?” Clark asks. “I would have let you. I wouldn’t have had any idea of what I was saying yes to but I would have let you have everything.”

Part of Lex knows that isn’t true either, knows that he couldn’t have convinced himself of it back then even if it were but he can’t deny the thrill that runs through him now at the thought of it.

Clark swallows hard. “So what do you say, Mr. Luthor—Lex? Are you going to show me what I’ve been missing?”

Lex presses up on his knees and leans in to kiss him in answer. It isn’t in character, not yet, but Clark deserves it, this perfect, wonderful man.

“Turn over,” Lex says when he pulls away. “I haven’t done your back yet.”

Clark does as he is told and Lex can’t help but admire the obedience in the action. So easy for Clark to close his eyes and bare his back to him, vulnerable and exposed and trusting. Lex pours another line of amber oil onto so much golden skin and takes his time working it into the muscles there. He starts at Clark’s shoulders and works his way down.

There is always something kind of marvelous about the give of Clark’s skin. He doesn’t bruise, he can’t be cut. And yet he is soft enough to press into and kiss and hold. Blood rushes to the surface so easily to give him the prettiest pink blush. Lex doesn’t have to worry about hurting himself when he handles Clark roughly and Clark in turn likes a bit of rough handling. Lex tries not to think about perfection when it comes to Clark; he knows exactly how well reality will always fail to live up to impossible ideals, especially people. But Lex can’t help but look at his lover with a kind of wonderment on occasion, perhaps even at the idea that he gets to look and touch and experience all of this firsthand.

The tendons of Clark’s neck and the wings of Clark’s shoulder blades give way to Clark’s narrow waist and the swell of his ass beneath those damnable shorts. Lex’s hands flirt lower and lower until he can cage the skin above the waistband of Clark’s shorts with his hands and slip his fingers below the fabric there.

“Does that feel good, Clark?” Lex asks, knowing the answer already. The little gasp Clark let out when one of Lex’s hands slid around the front to trace the vee of muscle at his pelvic bone told him so clearly enough. “I think it’s time we take these off, don’t you?”

Clark nods sharply into the lounge chair cushions and begins to roll himself over.

“Uh uh. I’ll take care of everything,” says Lex. “Lift your hips.”

Clark does and Lex’s hands find the button and zipper at the front of the shorts and deftly unfasten them in an instant. With Clark’s cooperation, he slides them down and gets them off, revealing the shapely curve of Clark’s ass.

“No underwear,” Lex notices out loud.

“You didn’t leave me any.”

This, this is the Clark Kent that only Lex gets to see. Unrepentantly insolent and bold but only if you know to look for the wry smile, the touch of wit. Lex adores him, even as he gives his ass a light swat before continuing the massage to its ultimate destination.

Lex pours out another drop of oil, glistening like a jewel at the small of Clark’s back before sliding down between the cleft of Clark’s cheeks. He wanted the oil there to be cool instead of skin-warmed, wanted the oil to touch him there first before Lex worked his way in.

“Has anyone ever touched you there, Clark?” Lex asks as he presses his palms into the meat of Clark’s ass. Not quite spreading him just yet, simply making sure that every inch of Clark has been molded by his touch.

Clark shakes his head into the cushions. “No one, just you.”

Which is true mostly. Clark has given Lex so many of his first times and Lex has cherished every one, done his best to deserve them, make each one worthy of the gift Clark has given him.

At the same time, Clark is far from inexperienced here. They know each other far better than the shyness he is playing at now.

Lex brings his hands to the tops of Clark’s thighs, right below the curve of Clark’s ass. Clark is waiting for him now, hard and expectant, his cock pressed between himself and the cushions of the lounge chair. But Lex isn’t about to just dive right in and begin opening him up. Clark wants to be taken apart, taken advantage of and Lex is more than happy to oblige.

“You looked so pretty in your uniform,” Lex tells him as he continues to work him over, his thighs and his hips. Every part of him gets a little of the sweet smelling oil and the touch of Lex’s hands, rough enough that even Clark can feel it, but tender and claiming too. “All dressed up for me, ready to be unwrapped.”

Clark groans a little, muffled by the cushions, and Lex smiles knowing the sound was coaxed from him unbidden.

“You looked so good everyday you spent out here last summer,” Lex continues. “I did watch you on the cameras every now and then, just to see what you were getting up to.”

“I knew it,” Clark murmurs.

Lex trails a hand up the inside of Clark’s thigh, lets his fingers ghost his balls and the sensitive skin behind them, not making their way to his hole just yet. Instead he takes a minute to savor the sound of Clark’s breathing, the way it has slowly sped up while Lex touched him. He looks over the whole of Clark’s bare back, the way he each lovely curve of muscle is strung taut with anticipation.

Then he oils up his first few fingers and presses his thumb to the whorl of Clark’s hole. There is an audible hitch in Clark’s breath and Lex hasn’t even entered him yet. Just smooth, slick skin on skin and the delight of making Clark wait for it.

Clark lets out a long, slow breath as Lex’s first finger slides inside, like it’s a relief to finally have him there. Lex doesn’t chide him for the way that he rolls his hips forward, lifts them higher to give Lex better access, while also giving his cock a bit of pressure.

“Are you hard yet?” asks Lex. He takes his time entering Clark and pulling back out, establishing a slow and steady rhythm, finding the place inside of him that makes his body tense up, his hips flex back against him.

“Mmhmm.” Like Clark doesn’t trust himself to form words anymore.

Lex gives him another finger for that, allowing two to spread him open a little wider. Clark takes him beautifully, always does. Once he trusted himself and Lex enough to do this, once he figured out how to let his guard down and be vulnerable in this way, his body—miraculous thing that it is—simply opened up and trusted them too.

The oil eases the way, making the whole endeavor slick and sweet. Lex scissors his fingers a little, testing just how tight and hot the muscles there are. He could take Clark now like this. Clark is invulnerable, already this is more than enough to ensure that Lex won’t hurt him. But Lex likes taking his time with Clark, being sweet to him. And Clark likes the attention, basks in it. He likes being taken care of, likes being treated as a human would. It is one of the great pleasures of Lex’s life that he is allowed to do it.

When he gets three fingers inside of Clark, the way that his body almost seems to pull him in, want him there, Lex knows that he can’t wait much longer. He is good at ignoring his own arousal, especially with a job to do, someone else to please. But he hardly wants to take his fingers out, Clark is doing so well, looks so good, obscene with Lex past the second knuckle inside of him, that Lex knows that he needs his cock inside of him now.

But first—

Lex pulls himself out of Clark with a wet sound and a groan from Clark beneath him. He taps Clark’s shoulder and says, “Roll over for me, baby.”

The endearment escapes him without permission but he finds he doesn’t mind it. Clark is his. His to love and to hold and to cherish. His to take apart and put back together again so that all of the pieces are shiny and new.

Clark does, revealing all of himself in full for the first time since they started. Pink and flushed all over. His cock hard and red and weeping pre-come. Lex aches for him, determined to set him right real soon.

Lining himself up and pressing in slowly, Lex feels Clark shudder as he seats himself fully inside of him. There is an echoing reverberation that goes through himself at the same time. Clark is slick and tight and warm around him. After all of the teasing and anticipation, all of their games simply fall away to leave the two of them, open and exposed and bare to each other. Exactly the way it is supposed to be.

Between the oil and their sweat—they’re still outside in the late summer heat after all, and Clark might not sweat like a human but sex is mental as well as physical and seems to be the exception—their skin sticks together in all of the places they touch.

Lex rolls his hips forward and fucks into Clark with small, shallow thrusts, grinding up against his prostate and not over-eager to leave him now that he’s inside him. Clark lifts his knees higher, giving Lex better access. Their hot panting breaths make the air between them damp and heavy.

As he moves against him, with him, Lex lets go of everything that has been on his mind all weekend. Every concern he has had about his company—always lingering in the back of his mind—the move to Metropolis means stepping into a more public facing role more often, being in charge of daily operations on a more intimate level—fades from view in his mind’s eye. Those concerns are manageable though, ones he always expected to take on. The greater burden to let go of, the one that has been on his mind most these past few days has been Clark, how Clark will take to the adjustment, teasing out how Clark feels about the changes his life is undergoing, trying to predict the role that Lex will play in the adulthood he is stepping into. But even that falls away as he takes in the sight before him, immerses himself in the task at hand.

Lex groans a little, watching Clark take himself in hand. His face is this broken open thing of beauty and Lex can’t help but hope that he was successful in getting Clark to let go too.

When Clark comes, his whole body tightens up around Lex, wringing his orgasm from him soon after. There is no use in trying to hold on for longer, using Clark as a toy, a hole, made for Lex’s pleasure. Arousal tightens in Lex’s gut as Clark blindly reaches out for him, pressing a wet open-mouthed kiss to the side of his face and that is enough to do it for him. Lex tumbles over the edge, his hips working in stuttering pulses until he is spent.

His mind blank. Breathing hard. His chest sticking to Clark’s. His face tucked up against him so that he can hear Clark’s heartbeat in his ear. It takes a few seconds for Lex to remember to pull out and then Clark is reeling him right back in. The two of them are a bit too large to share the lounger together but Clark arranges him so that Lex is draped almost entirely on top of him, their legs tangled together, hanging off of the end.

There is something about a little outdoor sex in the summer time. The lazy heat seems to permeate everything from the stones of the patio to the air around them and the thoughts inside his head. Lex isn’t sure he has ever felt quite so indolent and sated. Clark beneath him radiates contentment, eyes closed, heartbeat slowing, his thumb stroking Lex’s side absently. All signs of a plan well executed in Lex’s book.

“You know, they might not have imagined it like that,” Clark muses idly. Lex shifts a little to look up at him. “You on top, doing all of the work. I’m the big strapping farm boy, used to all sorts of manual labor. You’re the wealthy billionaire who doesn’t do more than lift a pen most days.”

Lex snorts. Clark is well aware of the fitness regimen he uses to keep himself sane. “We can try that next time.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

Clark smiles at him then, the big full one like the sun itself. Undimmed after their last weekend in Smallville and everything it entailed.

It’s a shame Lex needs to take it from him even for a moment, but he has to make sure of something before they let this go. “Clark, you know that whatever happens over the next few weeks, you get to decide what our relationship looks like. What to tell people and when. I can’t promise that any of it is going to be easy or that those idiots at the lake are going to be anywhere close to the worst of it—”

That gets Clark to sit up a little. “That’s what you thought I was upset about?”

Well, yes. Clark’s life is about to change in so many innumerable ways and some of them might be for the worse and there is nothing Lex can do about it. He will always have his friends and family to support him, even if it takes them time to adjust, but the uncertainty that he is stepping into is not something that can be easily shrugged aside.

Clark brings a hand to the side of Lex’s face. “I didn’t like the way they talked about you. The way that everyone here is always so determined to think the worst of you. And you’re just… fine with that. I don’t know what things are going to be like in Metropolis where people know you even less. I just hope that I’m enough to help you remember just how good you are. That we’ll be able to find time to be Clark and Lex as opposed to whoever else we might have to be in front of other people. I don’t know how easy that is going to be once we’re farther apart than we are now.”

Lex doesn’t have an answer for him. The hope and optimism welling up inside of his chest isn’t something that can be voiced out loud. Not by Lex at least. It’s too unfamiliar, too new and strange and entirely Clark’s doing.

He could tell Clark that he isn’t worried at all. That he is more than certain Metropolis is where they are meant to be. That things might be difficult and uncertain for a time but they will find their way forward together. He could speak to his own experience, all of the things he has been thinking about while planning his return to the city, worrying about Clark’s transition to that new and exciting life.

But all of that is something Clark is going to have to experience for himself. This kind of worry is entirely justified and it isn’t something Lex can simply fix, much though he wants to. The fact that Clark is more concerned for Lex’s sake than his own is adorable—cute, in the typical sense, yes, but also worthy of adoration from Lex’s point of view.

So Lex kisses him and tries to let heat and pressure and the slide of skin on skin say everything that he can’t, offer the kind of reassurance that doesn’t come easily to him.

“I’m not worried,” Lex says when they separate. He leaves it at that, no rationale, no convincing. Giving Clark his faith as a foundation upon which to build their new life on.

“Yeah?” asks Clark.

“Yeah. We’re going to do great things together, Clark. I’ve always thought so.”

“Okay.” Clark lets out a slow breath and believes him. Another absolutely wondrous part of their lives together, this kind of trust.

And that’s that. There is only so much emotional vulnerability either of them can really handle before the need to crawl out of their skin sets in. Besides, lounging poolside is a perfectly fine way to spend the day when there isn’t come threatening to dry in between them.

Lex sits up and Clark groans, trying to get an arm around him to pull him back down. “Come on,” Lex says. “We’re going swimming.”