Summary: Lex mends. Clark helps.
Author Notes: Smooches and thanks to my darling betas, Phil, Hyperfocused and Dana!
Archiving: SSA, L3
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I'd hire someone to write this for me.
Feedback: The best thing since sliced pie.
Eyes stretched wide in the dim light, Lex woke with a full-body shudder, cringing at the punches of pain wracking his body from his neck down.
Alive, his injuries making him all too aware of it. Clinging desperately to reality because the memories that flashed in his head couldn't be real. He couldn't have survived that. Not even if Clark was...
A firm forearm slipped from underneath Lex's head, the denim on one bony knee tickling against his thigh as Clark shifted away, sitting up beside him on the bed.
Looking down at him with undisguised concern.
"Yeah." Awake, or dreaming and he never wanted to wake up. Clark? In his... bed. Beside him.
Clark, moving away, eyes wide. So tall, taller when you're lying deep in a mattress and he's pushing up off the bed, standing over you, leaning down to pick up the edges of your blanket.
Familiar indulgence of a velvet coverlet, thick and light as air, whipped up and floated gently down, spreading evenly across the bed, across Lex, brushing softly along every curve as it settled. Warm and weightless, but an annoying and cumbersome obstacle as the bed dipped under Clark's weight. Lex's best friend, the closest thing he had to family or history, sitting next to him again, brow furrowed and white teeth biting into the full flesh of a cherry red bottom lip.
"How do you... feel?"
And Lex had to stop himself, had to shut his mouth on words he didn't want to say, blood thrumming in his ears because at first, he thought Clark was talking about this, them... in bed. Together.
No, fuck, his mind wasn't firing on all six yet. Clark meant him, how did Lex feel because... God, right, he should be feeling something other than Clark's presence beside him. He should be feeling... what?
Under the crushed velvet, Lex shifted and winced at the sharp pain in his ribs, just beneath his armpit. His arm was tethered, crushed against his side in an uncomfortable position. The burn in twisted muscles brought a new set of memories, ones he didn't want and hopefully wouldn't keep long.
It wasn't December, but if the brightly lit bits and pieces of memory were real, his newest Porsche was now a matchbox car decorating a pine tree, steel curving at impossible angles, boughs broken and poking out of the torn debris. He'd fallen asleep there, sure he wouldn't wake.
But he had, still cramped in the tiny space of the bucket seat, feet turned at strange angles, briefcase jabbing roughly into his side, cell phone ringing somewhere behind him in the wreck.
And not alone. Clark had been impossibly by his side, working too fast, blurry fingers pulling his seatbelt away, pushing metal and plastic out of his way. When Lex hadn't been able to stop a shaky, giddy laugh from escaping, Clark's hands slowed, nudging their way carefully under his legs and behind his back. Clark had worked him away from the seat, peeling him slowly, gently from crushed glass and whining metal like a sardine from a can. Then blood had rushed to his head and sped back into unconstricted limbs, and he'd blacked out from the searing in his veins.
Lex widened his eyes and blinked hard, focusing. He couldn't remember anything else. Slivers of what could've been dreams played in his head. A white-coated man leaned over him, the back of a gray suit swayed as it left his room. The worn knees of jeans pacing back and forth beside his bed. Every thought was hard to grasp, slippery and blurry in the soft light of dusk.
He propped up and, reeling, fell back into his hollow of pillows, hard enough to make him puff out a breath and suck another in. He needed to orient himself. Day, time, extent of injuries. "How long was I out?"
Clark glanced at the alarm clock without looking around for it. Maybe he'd been watching it, worrying away the time.
"Just a couple of hours."
Lex nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose, grasping at thin streams of thoughts that wouldn't solidify. "Someone was here. Someone else."
"The doctor... and your father." Clark had a thread from his shirt between his fingers, playing with it, and Lex watched with focused fascination as the concern eased from Clark's face in tiny, shy increments.
"I assume I'm okay. Work. Driving." He certainly wasn't going to lie there for days on end, watching Clark redefine uncomfortable, clearly not knowing what to say or where to put his hands.
Whenever Lex noticed things were becoming awkward between them again, he made sure they never stayed that way for long. Clark gave him clues, a subtle avoidance of eye contact, a quietness to his voice, and Lex turned it around, bringing them back from complication to the easy rules of friendship.
The ones they could both live with, anyway.
Lex sat up again slowly, pausing to gather strength and steel himself against the pain of swinging his legs off the bed and standing. Clark scooted back a little, and Lex paused, waiting to see if Clark was going to leave.
Instead, a hand closed on his shoulder, stronger than his entire body at that point. Probably at any point if he admitted it to himself.
"No... you're. You have to rest, Lex." Clark's eyes were big, face tight with some careful control Lex had never seen. Like he'd been rehearsing what he'd say the moment Lex decided to get out of bed.
"You know I won't lie here letting you play nursemaid while my father moves in on LexCorp, Clark."
"The doctor said you have to stay in bed - Lex, stop. Tell me what you want and I'll get it, whatever it is. I'll do everything that needs to be done."
"I have hired help for that if I need it."
Go home, go away. Stop looking at me like I did it on purpose. Like I did it to you.
Lex twisted to the side and the muscles in his chest tore loose as his spine straightened fast. He refused to scream.
"Please? You're going to make it worse."
"I can handle it." Those practiced eyes were too good at looking hurt and Lex was too distracted to bother placating him by playing sick. Clark would have to take care of someone else for kicks. "Thanks for... everything. You should go now."
"I told the doctor I'd stay with you."
"I'm sure he'll forgive you, Clark." Nothing, Christ, he was harder to shake than a telephone pole, even armed with a Porsche at 60 miles per hour.
"I'm not leaving you."
Lex shook his head and looked away.
"You can't be alone because of the concussion. And from the swelling, you won't be able to get around alone anyway. A sprained ankle or hairline fracture. Plus... the dressings have to be changed in the morning."
Lex sighed and pulled his shoulder out from under Clark's hand, standing up slowly, one hand propped on a bandaged knee for balance, then jerked back. Something under the thick gauze padding ripped and stole his breath.
A hand caught his and Lex froze, collecting himself, fingers hanging lifelessly in the deceptive softness of Clark's palm.
"He said that would leave a scar, but he doesn't know you, Lex. Not like I do."
Clark looked up and it was Lex's turn to look down at him, but he was sure the effect wasn't the same. Lex didn't tower, didn't take up all the space in the room. "Go home, Clark."
"I found you in a heap of metal, Lex. I was driving home and there you were, folded up in what used to be the front seat. Doesn't that... bother you?"
Lex shrugged. If he didn't, it would sink in and Clark would see. "It wasn't my first accident."
"Yeah." Clark laughed - a short, scoffing sound that didn't sound right coming from him. "I guess you've got good timing, or... I do."
Lex hated watching him lie. He didn't have to listen. He wouldn't listen. Not tonight.
Because, God, it's not ever just a lie. It's a full-body betrayal from Clark every time. Eyes just a little narrow and accusing, like Lex had no right to ask for the truth. Hands loose and open at his sides, innocently casual. Shoulders curved in just a little in a slump that diminished Clark's entire presence.
Clark could never be truly guilty of anything; Lex accepted that long ago, but it still pissed him off. The innocence was a clever ruse and he hated it, loathed it.
Craved the chance to shatter it so Clark could never again use it as a crutch.
Shaking his head, Lex turned and headed for the bathroom, walking carefully on the shards of glass that prickled under his skin from heavy, thick ankle to bruised hip.
At the door, he smiled over his shoulder at Clark, because even now, he had to play the game. Play it safe. Clark was either totally clueless or unbelievably cruel.
Clueless was easier to swallow.
"But the doctor said..." Clark pleaded gently, quietly, a kicked puppy left on the curb. In the rain.
God, so predictable and really, Lex liked him best that way.
It was easy to unseat someone like that, to bend him and shape him, and because of the lies, Lex didn't often feel remorse for gently urging Clark in one direction or another. He was very careful with his manipulations. Kept them harmless and simple. "Unless you're coming in with me, I suggest you head home. I'll see you at the Talon before work tomorrow."
In the bathroom, the ice of tile shot up to meet strands of pain that stretched from his ankle to his toes. He braced an arm on the vanity and lifted his injured foot, testing it, pulse pounding inside a thick balloon over his bones.
He lowered his leg and leaned on the counter, toes gingerly resting against the floor. His face was drawn, skin creased from his pillow in deep red lines that made one half of his head look insane or... old. He smiled at himself, stopped when the inside of his cheek hurt. Tonguing the sore spot, he found a neat slice inside his mouth, tasted the sickly sweet metal of blood and spit into the sink, reaching for his toothbrush.
The stench of sickness and injury clung to him, the mint toothpaste covering it in tiny whiffs as he breathed through his nose and brushed his teeth. He couldn't stand that smell - alcohol, fresh cotton, the stretched, thin rubbery plastic of bandages and the sour smell of old sweat.
He hobbled to the shower and sat on the single step in front of the glass stall. Hooking a thumb into the elastic of his boxers - at least they'd left him with that much dignity - he pulled and tugged until he could kick them the rest of the way off with his good foot.
The flesh-colored bandage they'd used to secure his arm to his side was tucked neatly into a fold in the center of his chest. He winced every time the long strip came around as he unwound it, gritting his teeth as he reached for it on every pass. Free, pink pile of elastic curling on the floor, Lex stretched slowly, hand fisting and teeth biting into his lower lip. He worked the arm out of numbness, despite the sharp pains reminding him that yeah, it was probably better off where it had been.
But he couldn't shower in all that shit and he was going to shower.
He stood and grabbed for the stall door, blood rushing to his head and ankle going dead beneath him. His fingers brushing metal before he landed ass-first on the ceramic tile, the wind knocked out of him.
Air sucked in and cursed loudly out, the door of the bathroom slamming into the rubber stop behind it and bouncing almost closed again.
Before the stinging slap of floor had disappeared, Clark was over him, gently easing him to his feet with hands tucked under his arms like Lex was a skinned-kneed five year old.
"You're stubborn, Lex, you know that?"
Clark's hair brushed along the back of his head and he gave up trying to pull an ounce of control from his useless body. Head falling back on Clark's shoulder, he gave up a little of his ten thousand aching pounds, leaning back into warm, soft flannel and the scratch of denim against his ass.
He shook his head, denying his limitations, cheek brushing Clark's late-night stubble. "I'm fine. I can do it."
But that wasn't Clark's brand of sarcastic... it didn't sound at all like the word Clark had said - it was thick and low in his ear, breath closer than it had to be on his neck.
Lex laughed softly. Maybe the drugs were kicking in. Of course. They would have given him something for pain.
But, fuck, that had sounded as suggestive as the arm around his waist and the fingers on his shoulder felt.
Lex swallowed and reminded himself who he was. The rules. He breathed carefully, betraying nothing, and pulled down the shield of tightly woven reasons not to start this particular game with Clark Kent.
But when Clark's fingers twitched on his stomach, he had to bribe himself to say the words, "You can let go, Clark."
Just for that, Lex would have a place in heaven, or at least a high position in a special hell.
The arm peeled away from Lex's stomach but a hand curved on his side and he was held, without a doubt held, in place. A few nervous breaths puffed against his ear. Then Clark's legs moved away from the backs of his thighs.
Lex forced himself to relax, then stopped breathing altogether when Clark's forehead pushed between his shoulder blades and hair tickled the nape of his neck.
"No. I can't let go. I won't." Muffled and quiet against Lex's back, it still shook the foundations of the mansion.
They stayed like that, frozen for an eternity while Lex waited for something else, some clear sign that he wasn't hallucinating, wasn't reading this whole thing wrong. But his body jumped the gun, impatient as ever in all things Clark, and Lex turned and wrapped his pain-free arm around Clark's slumped shoulders, stepping close to hide his obvious arousal, his own embarrassment surprising him.
It was unwarranted though; Clark leaned right in, head ducked and squarely centered on Lex's chest, the rest of him moving close too, inches away, following the curve of Lex's body.
Lex held on tight, hand rubbing lightly on the back of Clark's neck, chest slippery with his own sweat and the moist heat of Clark's breath.
"You could have died. You could be..."
"Don't. Just..." Lex's lips caught in the loose waves of raven hair and he breathed Clark in deeply, the pain over his ribs just serving to spotlight the finality of it. "We have a future, remember? Together."
Clark nodded and shifted, face sliding up and burying in the curve of Lex's neck, mouth open and no, God, sucking gently where it rested. Wet, warm lips working his shoulder slowly. Undemanding.
Slow and careful, but dangerous, too. How Clark always was, how he worked and played and thought and, God, wanted. It shocked Lex and his muscles tensed, his hand freezing in place on the warm stretch of muscle along Clark's neck.
He looked at the ceiling, removing himself from this so he could think.
Any other night, any other way and Lex knew he would have gotten it all wrong. He was hungry, empty and he would have forced it all, natural or not, unable to stop himself from taking and giving as fast and hard as he could to fill in the gaps three years of good friendship had cracked in his soul.
But tonight he was beaten up, bruised... broken. Brought down to where he could really look Clark in the eye, on a level Lex hadn't been on for years and years.
The helplessness sat heavily in his stomach, made him seriously consider stepping back so his half-hard cock would stop brushing against the denimed thigh between his legs.
His first instinct was to run, to just back off and not take the chance. He couldn't stumble onto anything this... significant. Couldn't accidentally plunge thoughtlessly in and end up in another wreck because it would kill him if Clark wasn't there to save him this time.
"I'm so sorry, Lex. I-"
Clark let go of him and Lex jerked away instantly, body moving too fast and it hurt, felt like he was being skinned alive when he turned his back, pulled open the shower door and turned on the water. "No, it's fine. You're tired, Clark. We both are. Go home and sleep."
Lex stuck his hand under the spray, waiting for it to heat up. The temperature rose fast, steam and regret fogging the air and making it impossible to breathe. He stepped into the thickest part of it, the deepest concentration of water pounding his muscles as he bit the sore spot in his mouth, eyes watering.
He stepped out from under the spray and smiled through the open shower door at a wide-eyed Clark. "So, I'll see you tomorrow?"
The shower door closed on Clark's open mouth, Lex's hand letting it go as he stepped back under the water. Better to leave it this way, without hard feelings, without either of them actually rejecting the other. They could pretend this like they could pretend Clark wasn't what he was.
That Lex wasn't who he was.
It was a silent pact, a deal they'd made their second day, Lex's ambition and Clark's lies completely forgiven because both had to be, if they were going to reap the benefits of being this close to another person. Anyone else would have given up on either of them, everyone else had, really. But they were a matched pair, deceptive out of necessity and just desperate enough to accept the other's... limitations.
Soap made the water softer, the fresh scent filling his nose and making him feel alive again. The pounding pulse in his ankle hurt clear to his teeth and he clenched his jaw, biting down on the pain. He washed fast but covered every inch, every tiny place where the stench of stale hurt could have hidden.
Muscles slashing wide open, he eased himself down on his knees and reached back to soap the bottoms of his feet. There was blood caked between his toes and he peeled back the thin layer of a new scab over the worst of the swelling on his ankle, the comparatively tiny, focused pain clearing his mind.
The water ran pink from his toes. He watched the streaks slide down the drain and bent forward on hands and knees, pushing himself slowly up, crawling up the shower wall with shaking hands.
Blackness swirled in and took him under fast, the water icy on his skin. The last thing he saw was a thick cloud of steam tendrils rising above the shower stall.
Gulping in air, eyes flying open and hands fisting the blanket, Lex woke sweaty and disoriented from a dream he couldn't remember. He lay still, listening and looking, trying to cut the last threads of whatever sleep-fear was paralyzing him.
took a deep breath that rattled a little and scorched his broken bones and he knew, even in the pitch blackness, he had to be awake to be that sore.
He moved an inch and realized he was laying on his side, head cushioned on something harder than pillow, something warmer than cotton sheets, lots of smooth skin and a warmth that his body just drank in everywhere it touched.
His ears pulled at the silence and caught the slow, steady rhythm of breathing close him. Surreal, and maybe he was still dreaming, but no, the rise and fall of his own head matched the soft sounds. He was lying on someone... on Clark.
He flinched away before he could stop himself, arms flying and pain shooting up his calf as he instinctively slammed his legs into the mattress, sitting up. His foot connected with something solid and hands curved on his upper arms, stilling him instantly. Big hands, Clark's hands.
Clark was there. Still there.
The bed creaked as Lex settled back onto it, down a little to the left so he was beside Clark instead of on him, but didn't complain about the arm that tucked under his neck.
"You passed out." The black air of the room seemed thin, Clark's voice crystal clear, even in the almost-reverent whisper.
"So I gathered." Lex held perfectly still, assessing himself. Naked. Christ. Still a little damp from the shower. Cleaner but still, fuck. Beaten to a pulp. And beside him, Clark. Stretched out on his bed, both of them under the covers now.
Warm, dry skin and Clark's jeans brushing against him in all the odd places on his body that didn't hurt. Clark shifted beside him and a knee touched Lex's thigh down close to the mattress, pressing in gently but confidently. The touch was definitely not accidental.
The hard bones of Clark's arm dug into the back of his neck and Clark's fingers curved over his shoulder gently.
"I called the doctor."
"Of course you did." Lex sighed and relaxed the muscles in his shoulders and neck, sinking heavily back against Clark's arm, trapping it there. This much was harmless after what happened in the bathroom. "Is he on his way?"
"He said if you can't stay in your own bed, maybe I should take you somewhere they can make you stay in bed." Clark's breath breezed over his face and Lex inhaled it, the sentimentality bordering on ridiculous. But in the darkness, who would know?
"The hospital." It made sense, and he felt Clark nod in the pitch-black room. That close. "I wondered why I wasn't already there. Was that your doing?"
"You told me at the - car - that your father had doctors on his payroll."
Lex laughed at the irony. "Like the one who saw me tonight?"
"No." Indignant, like Lex should have known Clark wasn't that stupid, and really, he should have. "Mom called Dr. McAllister. We've gone to him for years. Lex... it scared me when you said that. Do you really think he'd do something to hurt you?"
"All's fair, right? I essentially blinded the man, Clark. Temporarily, sure, but... I wouldn't put it past him to try and return the favor."
Clark scooted a little closer, his free hand connecting low on Lex's stomach, over the sheet but close enough to make Lex's cock jealous of the touch.
Fingers brushed gently on the thin barrier of cotton, following the hollow of his hipbone, then drifted lightly down his thigh.
He moved his leg under the caress, sliding his good foot up and bending his knee, the sheet tenting then falling away.
Pulled away, maybe. Better if he let himself imagine that Clark was that brave.
Protesting muscles tense and anxious, wound and ready to spring, Lex lay silently, skin cooling without the warm shell of covers.
Gasped despite his anticipation, God, because of it, when Clark's hand ran all the way up his side and tucked behind his ear, rubbing softly on his neck.
"Lex." The voice was above him in the cool black air, Clark's timidity perfect and sweet, exactly how it should be. "I..."
"It's okay. It's..." Lex reached up blindly, tucking his fingers into Clark's hair.
They both held perfectly, ridiculously still, breath coming in a regular rhythm under the press of hot flesh against his uninjured ribs. He tasted Clark's breath on his lips when he licked out to wet them.
Breathing the same air, bodies already sharing their heat, and all he could think, all he could understand was the pain and the pressure, the ache that made him need it tonight. Made him desperate enough to give it all up for just this. Desperate enough to say it, but it came out in a low whisper. "Stay."
A lifetime of silence in the dark, not alone but Clark a foot and a world away as he waited, wondering if Clark even heard him, if he'd even actually said the word at all.
Then the soft press of full lips covered his own, a little off-center, one corner of his mouth left untouched. He tilted his head, got it right, parted his lips just a little. Chin scratching his at an angle, Clark licked out just enough to touch, wet and warm, slipping between Lex's lips in a tentative question.
Lex held on, taking anything, everything Clark wanted to give and nothing more. He was patient, the ache inside him wild at the loss of control, desperate but waiting, still skeptical until a moan buzzed against his tongue and Clark's hand firmed on his neck, urging him to roll, to follow him over.
Easy, even shaking with pain and exhaustion but God, fuck, he wasn't shaking alone and he knew Clark wasn't hurt. On an elbow, braced up, back, separated as much as he could let himself be now. Lex squeezed his eyes closed and reached for Clark's face, fingers connecting with his temple and the corner of a blinking eye.
It was so dark, so completely dark, but Clark was looking, even if he couldn't see.
He ran his fingers down rough skin to soft, full lips that whispered under his touch.
"I want this, Lex...need it. God, for so long."
"Too long." But Lex shuddered hard at the pulling pain in seventeen separate body parts as he rubbed his leg up along Clark's, bending his knee so it laid heavy across Clark's thighs, aching for the absence of denim and hoping he wouldn't have to wait much longer. Knew he couldn't do anything but wait and see.
The solid strength of Clark's hand wrapped over his thigh, squeezing it. "But you're..." Clark, not scared exactly. Intimidated.
He couldn't help but laugh, after all this time, all those miserable evenings alone and now he couldn't, not even on narcotics. Not even with Clark.
"Yeah." Lex licked the cut in his mouth and found it closed, already healing. His ankle felt thick but his ribs only prickled with pain when he took a deep breath and lowered his mouth to Clark's.
All the good things were there between those firm, flushed lips that seemed to know exactly what they were doing and he didn't want to think about how they'd learned to press and move like that, hard and desperate against his own, kissing Lex in a way Lex never kissed anyone. With everything, it felt like.
A hand ran down his back and over the curve of his ass and spread, squeezed gently, hesitantly and he moaned encouragement into the warm cavern of Clark's mouth.
He knew he was ruined for more tonight, but tomorrow the morning would bring healing and stamina. Strength enough for this maybe. The day after would be even better. "Stay."
Clark nodded and Lex leaned down to drop a parting kiss on his neck, the tiny needles of stubble so fucking good against his soft, sore lips.
He rolled onto his good side, leaving Clark behind him, too far away, but only for an instant. It was instinct or because Lex's body gave off the unmistakable invitation, but either way Clark felt it, knew where Lex wanted him and curved along his back. Knees tucking behind his own, the hard edges of denim seams pressing into his ass.
Lex shifted back into the curve of Clark's body, head tucking somehow under Clark's chin and the stubble scratched on Lex's scalp then, just as good, better than on his lips. He closed his eyes and waited for an arm that never wrapped around him, drifting off to the slow, sleepy rhythm of their breath and his own heart pounding heavily in his bruised chest.
Lex woke the morning side of midnight to pale gray light filtering in through the curtains. He could see some things now, in the dim hint of dawn. His medicine was still buzzing in his veins and he took a deep breath and moved his leg just a little. His ankle was improving, the spot inside his cheek all but gone. The ribs might take longer.
The hand on his thigh slipped just a little as he fingered the sore ribs, checking them. He hadn't forgotten, had just sunk into such comfort that he hadn't really noticed at first.
God, Clark. Behind him. Different - fuck. Naked now and he didn't remember that, wished he had been awake for it. Miles of skin flush and hot against him. Clark, solid and breathing deeply but body aware of their close proximity. Like even unconscious, Clark knew what Lex was thinking.
The hand on Lex's thigh was heavy, Clark's arm lying along his side, pulling him in tight and tucking into all Lex's spaces. Against his ass, cock hot and full, swollen by the closeness or the gentle, inexorable rocking of Lex's hips.
"Mmmm..." Still mostly asleep, Clark kneaded his thigh with that big, warm hand, squeezing until Lex thought he'd go insane with the rhythm of it, over and over again and fuck, it was so good he couldn't stop, couldn't keep his hips from rolling and pressing harder back against Clark's length.
The smell, God, the scent of Clark and sex, the clean naked scent of skin on skin, electric like the ozone in the air before a storm.
But it was enough to slip into whatever silent dream Clark was having and pull a little bit of awareness out with his ass grinding so gently, so slowly back.
He reached down and took Clark's heavy hand in his own, hoping it would be enough to bring him gently awake, caught in the middle of this, groggy and uninhibited. Undeniably willing.
Wanted to taste and licked Clark's palm, teeth scraping along the fleshy curve beside Clark's thumb and up, tongue teasing in the salty spaces between thick fingers.
Behind him, Clark jerked awake, sucked in a breath, muscles tense and rigid where they'd been so relaxed. "Lex!"
"Shhh, it's okay." Lex tightened his grasp on Clark's hand. "I'm... I'm here."
"Oh, God. I'm... I don't have my clothes..." Clark scooted away a little, pulling his body back an inch. An inch too far and Lex tugged him gently back, glancing over his shoulder and smiling.
He whispered against Clark's palm, tongue licking out to taste again. "This is better."
Clark's eyes drifted closed as Lex slid his mouth up and sucked on his wrist. Clark moaned softly, awkwardly, and Lex pushed himself back into the curve of Clark's body again.
Clark melted back against him hesitantly. Quiet and shy, "I just...I wanted to feel you."
Clark's thumb ran across his lower lip, pulling it down just a little and Lex bit down gently, tongue circling the tip and sucking it into his mouth.
"I kept dreaming about you. About the accident." Clark leaned against him softly, careful and slow, like he was afraid of hurting Lex.
Which he was, but God, in a good way, in the best way.
"I want this, Clark. Now." Lex stretched his neck, mouth covered before he could turn over. He groaned softly and released the kiss, eyes rolling in his head as he guided Clark's wet hand down. He let go to lick his own fingers, then slid them in between Clark's, lacing their hands together and wrapping them on his own cock.
An unbelievably innocent gasp sucked coolly against his ear, chills fluttering over his neck and shoulders. He shivered on the first stroke, Clark's fingers almost limp between his own as he guided them up and down his length. Loose grip, slick and hot and slow, and he wanted more, wanted Clark's voice in his ear, begging for this, begging to have his cock buried inside him, but fuck, he hurt too much, too much to turn over on broken ribs and make this what it should be.
Clark's hips rocked gently for a split second against his ass, then stilled and Lex couldn't stand it. Tilted his head back on Clark's shoulder and moaned, pleaded. "Fuck, yes. Move for me, Clark. Please... move."
"Oh, God." Breathed out like Clark had just been waiting for those words, for him to ask. "I ... Lex... I need, God."
Perfect hips rocked urgently, thrusting, rhythm going ragged that fast against his ass, cock rubbing his cleft raw and he didn't care, he ached for it, sucked in a breath and pushed back hard, harder when Clark's arm tucked underneath him and pulled him back, fingers digging into the tender flesh over his ribs.
"Fuck... Clark. I want you... inside me."
Surprised, pained moan against his ear and hard breath heating his cheek, "Oh, God ... yes, yes -"
Skin sliding together, so close that his whole body felt Clark stiffen and break, groaning and grunting behind gritted teeth that closed on his shoulder, sounds and shudders breaking in between the hot splattering of come hitting his back.
Release palpable and thick in the room, Clark's body thrumming energy and heat into his and Lex slowed the rocking in his hips. Clark's fingers tightened and Lex moaned his relief and squeezed Clark's hand.
Drifting on Clark's throbbing energy, body nearly spent and pain becoming so sharp again in the dizzy fog of this that all he could do was thrust weakly into the rapid strokes of Clark's fist on his cock.
But Clark knew it already, and small pleading sounds, desperate half-moans deep in Clark's throat floated into his ear, drowning out the lewd, wet sounds as they stroked and stroked his cock together, Clark growing confident under his direction, twisting, guiding Lex now and yes, good, God, a thumb sliding over his leaking head. Lex shivered, moaning and thrusting hard, harder and fuck, yes, now, coming and coming over their hands, spiraling into the bed, wrapped in sweat and tan skin and heat.
Hot and damp against the cool sheet, dizzy, overloaded on pain and pleasure and drugs that kept him an inch away from it all, a half-second behind. His hand went slack but Clark's kept going, finishing him slowly with lingering, gentle strokes that made Lex shake and spasm and lean away, bury his face, groaning into his pillow.
They lay sweating and panting, Lex wincing as Clark's hand released his side and slid out from under him, then rubbed down his spine with one long, smearing stroke.
Clark made a noise behind him, a pained half-word that Lex despised and never wanted to hear from those worthy, gorgeous lips.
"Don't. It was... God, Clark." Lex shifted onto his back and pulled Clark down onto his chest, brown waves tucking in under his chin, wet, flushed face sticking as Clark nuzzled into the curves of his muscles.
Muffled by skin and shame, Clark's voice hummed on his chest. "I shouldn't have..."
"Waited so long to tell me?" A low laugh. Clark was wiping his eyes and Lex reached down before Clark's shame faded away, shards of ribs grating inside him but he barely felt it. He tilted Clark's face up for a long, slow kiss.
Green eyes holding his, Clark propping up and getting an elbow under himself so he could stay that way and Lex was too sweaty, too dank and undone again to be looked at like that.
"I could use your help in the shower."
Wide smile on those lips that should always, always be smiling - or at the very least wrapped around his cock - and Clark shook his head. "So now you want me to help you."
Lex reached down and ran a thumb through the slickness on Clark's stomach. "Please?"
In the blinding light of the bathroom, Clark walked beside him to the shower, an arm around his waist for support, a gentle grin curving his mouth just the way it should.
He stopped at the step to the shower, arm on his good side reaching up to wrap around broad shoulders and tan skin that had to taste like chocolate or summer or Dom Perignon. Or, God, just sex.
They fit easily together, the warmth of Clark's palm imprinting a permanent brand on his hip, the angle perfect and comfortable. Clark needed holding, and Lex didn't mind, didn't feel the usual instinct to shy away from it, to put distance between them. Safe, so warm and strong together and Lex knew this is what had always been missing.
They held on like it was their last embrace, like what happened next couldn't possibly be as good as this.
Lex blinked slowly, eyes opening reluctantly as he shifted his weight.
Over Clark's shoulder, Lex saw their reflection in the mirror. Twined together, pieces of a puzzle, fingers spread and curves matching everywhere. Even the shadows of their muscles seemed to blend into one continuous gray. Like they were one.
He'd drive slower. Clark would finally let him all the way in, at any risk. Pull him in maybe, and he was ready for it, couldn't wait. Lex would protect him.
Clark would always be there in time. Always.
Clark leaned away and saw him looking at their reflection, turned a little to look, too. They smiled at each other in the mirror, soft eyes and the degree of smile identical. Two people who had taken on each others' mannerism after years together, and really, he shouldn't be surprised.
They'd had years together.
And they'd have many more.
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