by Debra Fran Baker
"Are you sure about this, Clark?" Lex looked at me. "We don't have to do anything, you know."
I put a hand on his shoulder. I could feel him shake a little when I touched him, but I couldn't stop touching him. "I want to. It's what I dream about now." I used to dream about Lana. I used to dream about being normal. But I've tasted both and they're not what I want. I needed to taste Lex. I licked my lips and bent down, and he was there.
He was there the way Lana had been, but it was different. He felt different, I felt different. My hand cupped his head, his hands roamed my back and it felt like I was on fire all over.
He pushed me away. "I'm sorry. I *can't*." He gulped and bit his lips.
I'd felt his body against mine. "Why not? I'm legal, Lex. I checked. Why can't we?"
"Damn it, Clark, it's not that. It's...I can't tell you."
"No one's going to know. It's just me spending a Sunday afternoon at your place. We do that all the time anyway." What was wrong with him? I put my hand on his shoulder again, pulled him close again. "Please, Lex. I want you so badly I can't think."
"Your dad will kill me."
"My dad won't know." Not if I could help it. And Dad trained me well about keeping secrets. "Please."
"God, he's beautiful..." Who was Lex talking to? "I..." He nodded quickly, once, and then smiled. "I can't say no to you." He pulled me down and kissed me, and this time the fire was mixed with ice and I shivered, and this time, instead of pushing away, he took my hand - his hand was as big as mine - and led me to his room.
I thought he'd be the one to...to take charge. That's how it played out in my dreams. Lex tearing off my clothes, or our clothes just disappearing because Lex willed it so. Lex pushing me onto the bed, on my back, on my stomach, Lex kissing me. Lex...well, I wasn't clear on the details, but Lex somehow inside me. Lex taking me, having me, making me his, and I'd wake up to wet sheets, and my mom smiling to herself as I volunteered to do laundry.
Instead, he stood there, that odd smile on his face, his hands shaking - with passion? I was shaking all over, too. But I managed to unbutton his shirt and slip it off his shoulders. I'd never seen him less than dressed before. His body was as smooth as his head, except for the scars, and his nipples, pale against paler skin. I tasted them, and he moaned a little. Then I licked the big scar under his shoulder and he moaned louder and clutched my hair. I fumbled with his belt and his pants and let them slide to the floor. He wore nothing underneath. That made me more excited. I didn't know why.
He was beautiful there. I didn't know I'd find a man beautiful, but I'd hoped. The locker room was going to be torture. I waved that thought away and bent to kiss him. It was hot and smooth and it filled my mouth, but Lex pushed me away. "Not that. Not now." His voice was hoarse.
I stood, confused for a moment, and then took off my clothes. Lex smiled more, but he'd see me before, hanging like a scarecrow, scared and cold and sick with Lana's meteor rock. I felt like a klutz, all elbows and knees, taking off my boots and my jeans and nearly falling over, but Lex didn't laugh. He just smiled and trembled just a little. Then I kissed him again, feeling his skin all down the length of mine. My tongue in his mouth, my hands down his back, his lips moving. I could have come right there. I don't how I didn't, but I guess strength happens. *Better be careful, Clark. He's fragile. They all are.*
I pulled away. "Now what?"
He laughed then. "Oh, God. I'm in love with a virgin." I barely registered his words, except for virgin. I blushed. "It's okay. Just. It'll be fine." He kissed me on the cheek and walked to his night table. He bent - I nearly stopped breathing when he did - and opened a drawer. He stood and turned, holding a foil packet and a little plastic bottle. "We'll need these."
"I'm..." I looked at the packet. How could I tell him I've never been sick?
"Doesn't matter. It's okay." He sat down on the bed, and pulled me down. And waited. And then I understood. I took him in my arms again, and held him and kissed him and explored his body with my hands and tongue and he let me, and encouraged me with his moans. I needed no such encouragement. Just touching him was enough for me.
He took the condom and unwrapped it, and then. Then I took it and put it on myself. My fingers still shook. Lex looked at me and kept smiling. Then he turned to lie on his stomach. Once, while snooping around my parents' room, I found a large book of art photos, filled with naked men that looked like statues. Lex looked like that, like marble or something. He was warm when I touched him, though, and he shivered and sighed when I finally put my fingers there, between those cheeks. I probed as gently as I could. He was tense, tight and I was going to go there. With that thought, I took the little bottle and opened it. Be careful. I knew what to do. Nobody told me, but I knew. And as I did so, as I lubricated and stretched, Lex tossed and sighed and never said a word, just thrust backwards on my fingers.
And that was enough to tell me to go further. My heart beat so fast I couldn't hear anything else as I poised myself there, and then began to push. Lex was...hot. And he tensed as the tip entered him, and then he seemed to force himself to relax. It took - time didn't matter, but it seemed to take forever until I was inside him, lying with my thighs touching his, my hand reaching around to grasp him. He was soft, but he hardened at my touch. And I started to move and he started to move and I couldn't stand it anymore, and I didn't understand how I managed it so far, and wave after wave crashed through my body and into his. And then my hand was sticky, and he was sobbing in my arms, and when I turned him around to hold him closer, he made no effort to resist. He shook like he was freezing, so I held him closer.
"Daddy," he whispered, and my stomach turned to ice.
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