Title: Happily Ever After

Author: Meret

Feedback: meret@illuminatedtext.com

Rating: NC-17

Category: For Aelora's SV Fairy Tale Challenge, Slash, AU, Humor

Disclaimer: These characters are owned by DC Comics and the WB. No infringement or profit is intended.

Summary: Clark searches for his happy ending.

Author's Notes: Many thanks to my beta readers Tarchannon and Aelora. This story is far better for their suggestions.

You can find the illustrated version of this story here. http://www.meret.illuminatedtext.com/happilyeverafterlowres.html

I highly recommend reading that version.







Once upon a time, a couple named Martha and Jonathon lived on a farm in a place called Smallville. They were very happy together. The sunflowers bloomed year round outside their small yellow farmhouse, Martha baked the best pies in the land, and Jonathan's cows fed themselves.

Eventually they wanted someone to share their happiness with. They looked under the cabbage leaves every summer, and watched the skies for storks, but nothing ever happened. They were very sad. Martha stopped baking completely, and even the cows couldn't cheer Jonathon up.

When Martha started knitting booties for the farm animals, Jonathon, knew he needed to do something. For Martha's birthday, he decided if he couldn't give her a real boy, he would make her a wooden boy instead. He went to the woods and looked, and looked, but he couldn't find what he wanted. Some trees were too fat, some were too tall, some were too thin, and some were too small.

He was about to call it a day when he heard a loud noise, and looked up to see something bright streaking across the sky . . . right toward him! Chicken Little was right! He ran as fast as he could. He heard a great "Boom!" and everything went black.

When he woke up he was in back of King Lionel's country estate. There in front of him was the perfect tree lying on the ground. The thing in the sky had evidently knocked it down. It was exactly the right size, and it was glowing green! It was the most beautiful tree in all the world. It gleamed like grass with the sun shining off the morning dew. It had to be a sign that this was the perfect tree to use for Martha's present.

The only problem was that it was on the king's estate. If anyone found out he took it, he could be thrown in prison. Jonathon didn't know what to do. He was a good man. He'd never broken the law before. He so wanted to make this gift for Martha though, and this was the perfect tree for it. The king never spent any time at this estate anyway, he told himself, and if they did notice it was gone, it could be blamed on the thing from the sky. The thought of seeing his prize bull in baby booties finally made up his mind, and he chopped up the tree, and hauled it off to his barn.

He carved a little boy out of the wood, pouring all the love he had to give a child into making it. He was very pleased with the results. Martha was delighted with her birthday present. She dressed it up instead of the farm animals, pouring all the love she had to give a child into making it clothes. They celebrated her birthday, tucked the little wooden boy into the room they had prepared in case they ever had a child, and went to bed.

Martha dreamed that she and Jonathon were parents that night. That wasn't unusual. She often had that dream. What was unusual was that when she woke up during the night, there was a little wooden boy smiling up at her from beside the bed.

Jonathon was a bit worried, and told Martha about finding the glowing tree on the king's estate. Martha didn't care. They named him Clark and told everyone that they adopted him from Russia. His birth parents were from the Chernobyl area, they said, and he had been given up because of his skin condition caused by the explosion there.

They fed and watered him, taught him to speak English, and made sure he got lots of sunshine. He grew strong as an oak and fast as the wind through the trees. Clark's playmates were the animals around the farm. Clark even made pets out of the crickets, and dressed them up in clothes he made for them. Jonathon blamed Martha for this, but as long as he didn't play with termites, his parents didn't mind. They were all very happy, and loved each other very much.

When he got old enough, Clark started school. That's when he noticed he was . . . different from the other children. He asked his parents about it, and they told him he was their very special child that they loved more than anything. That he should never, ever show his special abilities to anyone, and that he would understand when he was older.

That satisfied Clark. Sort of. For a while.

Then he showed up in town and everything changed.


Happily Ever After

by Meret


Prince Lex couldn't believe his father, the lion king, had sent him to this hick town. "Go live in the country and study your Greek military history." As far as he was concerned there were only two things the Greeks had done well. One of them was math. The other had nothing to do with war or government, and was something Lex didn't need any lessons in. Wanting to pursue his studies in alchemy was not "unfitting for royalty." If he could figure out how to change lead into gold, he'd be the most powerful king in the world, he thought as he rode over the bridge.

The smell of sewage hit Lex in the face, and the sensation of falling as he was grabbed; rotting teeth dripping with ichor, giant claws gouging his skin, and the thought that he wouldn't be alive to tell his father he was right about not sending him to Smallville. Then strangely smooth arms as thick as tree trunks, and sunlight flooded his face again as he lay in the dirt and watched a young man fling something the size of a cow into the next county.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he knelt beside Lex.

"What was that?" Lex gasped.

"A troll. They normally only attack goats."

Of course. Just his luck. But . . . "How did you throw it so far? It was massive."

An instant change came over the young man. He mumbled something about the trolls being able to fly, and then tensed and looked down. Lex thought fleetingly that he'd never last a day at court being such a poor liar.

"No, don`t sit up yet. I think you`re bleeding." He gently pushed Lex back down, and ripped open his shirt, examining the various cuts and scrapes. "I don't think any thing is broken, but a couple of these are a little deep." He took off his own flannel shirt, and tore it into bandages, binding the wounds.

Lex wasn't concerned. He'd taken worse fencing with his father. A few stitches at most. He was far more interested in his rescuer. He'd heard that peasants were different, but he'd had no idea how different. At first Lex had thought it was dirt, but that wasn't it. His rescuer almost appeared to be made of wood. What the hell was wrong with his skin?

The thundering sound of the guards he'd ditched earlier riding up to them ended any chance he had to find out. They quickly surrounded him, drawing their swords and pointing them at the young man. "Put your weapons down!" He glared aristocratically as the startled soldiers followed his command. "He saved me, Captain, which if you had been doing your job wouldn't have been necessary." The best defense was a good offense.

"Your Highness --"

"At least you managed to catch Spyder." Lex grabbed the reins of his horse out of a near by soldier's hands. "Now provided it isn't too complicated for you, perhaps you can find my crown."

"Um, I have it." He shyly offered Lex the dented coronet, looking dismayed at the presence of all the soldiers.

"Once again, you come to my aid." Lex said, trying to put him at ease. "My father would kill me if I lost this," he whispered conspiratorially. That won him a small, nervous, but very nice looking smile. Lex took the crown, noticing how he was surreptitiously admiring his stallion. "May I know the name of my hero?"

"Clark, uh, Clark Kent."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Clark Kent." He was determined to find out what secrets this extraordinary young man had.


The Prince wasn't at all what Clark would have expected, he thought as he walked home. He'd heard about him of course. Everyone had. How the rival corn king had cast an evil spell on the lion king using a magic green rock, but it had missed and hit the prince instead, which had made all his hair fall out. Clark had always thought that must have made him look strange, but it didn't. He looked . . . good. The prince was a lot nicer than he'd expected too. The way his parents had always acted about any mention of the king, he'd thought they must all be awful, but Prince Lex wasn't awful at all.

His parents were worried when he came home late from school, and were even more worried when he told them why.

"I want you to stay away from the Luthors, son. They're dangerous." He sat down with them at the kitchen table.

"Why are they dangerous? You always say that, but you never tell me why."

"They're royalty, Clark. They have different standards than we do," his mother said, squeezing his hand.

Clark opened his mouth to argue some more but was interrupted by the sudden peal outside their house. On their lawn stood a royal page carrying a trumpet, next to the most beautiful red horse he had ever seen.

"Clark Kent?"

He nodded, and was handed an official looking letter. It was heavy cream-colored paper, and sealed with a purple ribbon. The uniformed man took off at a jog, kicking up puffs of dust in the drive, ignoring his father`s calls to stop.

"The horse is from Prince Lex in thanks for saving his life," Clark read, awestruck. The stallion gracefully smelled him, the velvety lips brushing his hand. He had wide, intelligent brown eyes, and his coat gleamed like rubies in the sunlight.

"Don't get too attached, son. You're not keeping him."

"What?" He turned, startled, from where he was petting the horse.

"We don't accept gifts for helping people. We definitely don't accept gifts from the Luthors."

"I'm 16! I'm old enough to make my own decisions." His voice was too loud, but he didn't care anymore. He was tired of being treated like a child.

"Clark, this horse is a Ferrari," said his mother. "I've seen the breed before in Metropolis. He was born for one thing - speed." She came up and patted the horse on the neck. "He wouldn't be happy on a farm. Can you really see him behind a plow?"

He sighed in disappointment. She was right about that. Clark couldn't see this shiny animal covered in mud working the fields, and they couldn't afford to keep a horse that didn't pull its weight.

"You can ride him today, and then I'll take him back to the prince tomorrow, son."

"I'll take him. He gave him to me. The least I can do is thank him in person," he griped.

"Your mother or I will handle it, Clark."

"No!" This was the last organically grown straw. "Not without telling me why! Why are you afraid of the king? Why am I stronger and faster than everyone else?" He ran over to where his father had been working.

"No, Clark! Not the wood chipper!" his mother screamed.

His parents had never allowed him near the chipper. The troll clawed up the prince, but didn't even bruise him. He had to know the reason. He had to know why he was different than everyone else. He started to stick his hand in when his father suddenly grabbed it. His mother had tears in her eyes, and his father looked years older. "We'll tell you, son. You're old enough to know now."

"Let's go inside and talk, Clark." She hugged him hard, and held on to him all the way into the house.


"Are you saying I belong to the king? It's not a skin condition?"

"No!" she said vehemently. "You belong to us. Always. You`ll always be our son."

"But I'm not even human! I'm ... I'm a log!"

"You are not a log! I don't ever want to hear you talk about yourself that way!" His father took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Just stay away from the royal family and everything will be fine."

"It won't! It won't ever be fine again!" Clark ran out of the house, out of the yard, out of the town. He ran until he couldn't feel, couldn't think, couldn't hear his parents telling him the truth. He never wanted to stop running.


It was dark by the time he came back. He'd run into Lana, the tavern maid, at the cemetery talking to her dead parents. That had creeped him out enough to make him want to go back home. It also helped put his situation in some perspective. At least he still had his parents, and he wasn't crazy. They hugged him when he got home, and sent him to bed with worried expressions. He was determined to get up early, and take the horse back himself.

While he was putting on his pajamas, he noticed something strange. He thought he'd finished growing, but it kind of looked like . . . was it possible his penis was longer? He suddenly remembered the strange feeling in his crotch he'd felt at the bridge with Lex. Prince Lex, he corrected himself. But that didn't make sense. He felt along his length. It was probably just his imagination.

Clark lay on the bed, continuing to stroke himself. Stretching out, he wondered if Lex did this. Did royalty jerk off? Or did they have someone do it for them? His other hand played with his nipples. He imagined Lex stretched out nude on a royal purple bed, surrounded by beautiful people kissing him, touching him. Silky, fair skin, like at the bridge. He licked his lips, trailed his left hand down to his balls, tugging gently. So good. Spread his legs, enjoying the feel of the flannel quilt against his ass. Lex's chest had felt so warm when Clark had touched him. He'd moved among the soldiers with liquid grace. Speeding up, he concentrated on the crown, hitting that spot on his cock again, and again. Crown, yes. Lex's crown. He'd noticed Lex's hands when he gave it back to him. Long, elegant fingers. How would Lex touch him? He pictured Lex's hand wrapped around his dick. Felt so great. Waves of pleasure pulling him along. Pictured his hand on Lex. Would Lex's dick be long and lean like the rest of him? Pumped harder, hips moving in involuntary rhythm. Almost, he thought. Holding his breath. Did the prince like it slow, or fast? Gentle or hard? Stroked faster. Toes bunched as he hovered on the edge. Lex probably used all kind of exotic things like, like . . . Clark bit his lip as he came, swallowing his ragged moans.

After he caught his breath, Clark put his pajamas on, and swept the yellow powder out of his bed, wiping his hands on his dirty shirt. He froze, staring at the golden grains on his fingers. His stomach clenched into a hard knot.

Why hadn't he realized it before? He'd never seen another boy come, but he'd seen enough flowers in the spring.

It was *pollen!*

Pollen like some, some . . . plant! Frantically, he brushed the rest of the pollen of his hands. He couldn't even come normally! He dropped on the bed, screaming brokenly into his pillow. Why? Why did he have to be such a freak? He just wanted to be normal! He just wanted to be a real boy! No one would ever want him, let alone a prince. He wasn't even real.

Clark cried himself to sleep, clutching his pillow, sticky amber colored tears collecting on his face.


Lex tore off his facemask, disgusted at himself for losing yet again. He flung his foil at the wall, turning when he heard a gasp. Shit! He'd nearly skewered his rescuer from yesterday. Or maybe not, he thought, remembering the troll's claws had no effect on him. "I'm sorry, Clark! Are you all right?" He walked over, pulling his foil from the wall.

"Uh, yeah. Are you?" He looked over to the sword master in concern.

"That's my instructor, Chloe Sullivan," said Lex. "She's the best fencer in the kingdom."

"Isn't she a little small?"

"That's part of the reason she's so good. She's called la Guêpe -- the Wasp." Clark looked confused. He was pretty, but a bit of a blockhead, Lex thought. "Because she's small, fast, and dangerous."


Clark looked uncomfortable so Lex changed the subject. He led him into the salon, offering him a drink. The water was imported from Wales, but it was worth it, he thought, quickly gulping down half a bottle. "Did you enjoy your new mount?" His lips quirked at his unintended wording. Clark's skin was definitely unusual, but Lex noticed he also had lovely full lips and arched cheekbones as well.

"That's what I came over to talk you about actually. He's wonderful, but I can't keep him."

"Why not? Don't you like him?" Lex said, a bit startled. He wasn't used to people refusing his gifts.

"No! He's beautiful. It was really kind of you, Lex. I mean Prince Lex. But you don't owe me anything just for doing the right thing."

Lex stared at him. That was the strangest logic he had ever heard. If everyone believed that, nothing at court would get done. This young man was growing more fascinating by the minute. "If you won't accept my gift, then at least do me the favor of calling me Lex."

"Really?" Clark beamed. "That would be great."

Lex had the sudden impression the sun had just come out. "Perhaps if I keep him, you'll agree to come over and go riding with me at times."

"I'd love that!"

Lex smiled. "I think I would too."


After that weekly rides together became the routine. Sometimes they would play pool instead. Clark felt guilty lying to his parents about where he was on those afternoons, but not guilty enough to stop. They just didn't understand. No matter what the king was, Lex was his friend; he would never hurt him.

Clark learned about Lex - he didn't get along with his father, his mother died when he was 12, he was interested in alchemy.

Lex, of course, wanted to get to know Clark better as well. Which turned out to be a far bigger problem than Clark would have ever suspected. It took a while for him to realize what was happening. It wasn't something they'd ever covered in school health class. Every time he lied to Lex, his crotch tingled and his dick got longer! Clark tried avoiding him, but every time he lied and made an excuse not to see him, it happened again. Plus, he couldn't avoid Lex completely. The town was just too small.

"Adrenaline, I guess." Eight inches. "It's just junk mail." Nine inches. "No, I don't know the famous alchemist Dr. Gepetto." Ten inches.

He had images of it dragging behind him, and dogs chasing it and barking as he walked down the street. Luckily it didn't happen with anyone else, or he would have never been able to leave the house. He didn't understand why it only happened with Lex though. He didn't think this was what the guys he'd overheard at school meant about sporting wood.

"I'm in love with Lana, the tavern maid." Eleven inches. "I wasn't staring at you, Lex." Twelve inches.

If it were just a question of Lex keeping his secret, he'd have already told him. He knew Lex wouldn't betray him that way. But . . . Lex was his best friend. He'd never met anyone like him before. Lex was smarter than anyone he'd ever known, yet he actually listened to Clark, and asked his opinions about things. Even when they didn't talk, Clark just enjoyed being around him. He would watch him fence, or ride his horse, and it was like seeing poetry come to life. Rolling over on the sofa in the loft, he hugged one of the threadbare pillows to his chest.

If Clark were normal, maybe they could even be more than friends, but he knew that would never happen. No one would want a freak as lover, and Clark was very afraid that no one would want a freak as a friend either. He didn't know what he would do if Lex stopped being his friend. He didn't see any other option than tell him the truth though. He couldn't go on like he was. He couldn't sleep, his grades were suffering, and his parents kept asking him what was wrong. And his dick kept getting longer! He had to make a decision one way or the other. Either risk telling Lex the truth or cut off all contact with him. He remembered seeing the old oak that used to be by the road struck by lightening when he was a child. It had smoked and sizzled in the rain, black and twisted, split down the middle. No matter what he did, he had a hunch he'd end up feeling just like that oak.


An invitation to storm a castle covered with briars and wake a sleeping princess. Lex snorted at that one, tossing it aside as he sorted the rest of his mail. An ad about increasing his long distance courier service. Another ad for magic beans. A political manuscript from someone named Machiavelli seeking publication. A critical, soul killing missive from his father. The usual stuff.

Except . . . finally! The report on Clark from his flunky, Nixon. Having endured far too many stares and whispers about his own abnormality, he wasn't about to ask Clark directly, but he was dying to know. He ripped open the file, reading eagerly - Chernobyl alchemist accident site, mutation, no record of the adoption. And that . . . made no sense what so ever. Lex frowned in thought, leaning back from his desk. He'd studied the Chernobyl accident, wanting to make sure he didn't repeat the same mistakes in his own experiments. The after effects killed people; they didn't create wooden people! He'd had chances to casually touch Clark during his visits - handing him a drink, teaching him to play pool and chess. His skin felt exactly like it looked - like a highly polished wood. If wood felt warm, mobile and alive that is.

What started as curiosity had changed to something else. Lex idly watched the swans courting outside in the garden while he thought. He had never met anyone who didn't want anything from him, who seemed happy to just be around him. He knew Clark was lying to him about some things. The question was if he was lying about that too. He wanted Clark. He wanted to find out if he was that smooth, that hard all over. He wanted him not just in his bed, but in his life, something Lex had never felt before. Could he trust someone who lied to him? He stared at the report, no closer to knowing the answer than before.

A servant interrupted his contemplation to announce Clark's arrival. Lex immediately said for him to be admitted, and frowned at the clock. Unless it was some school holiday he wasn't aware of, Clark should be in history class about now, and he wasn't the type of student to skip school.

Clark was pacing the marble floor, chewing on his lip, refusing to meet Lex's eyes. He'd never seen him so upset. "What's wrong?"

Clark stopped and looked at him, his shoulders hunched miserably. "I'm wood."

Lex stared at his crotch automatically, but couldn't discern any difference than all the other times he'd looked at it.

"No, but that's part of it," Clark laughed sickly, a slightly hysterical note entering his voice. "My parents didn't adopt me, Lex. My father made me."

"I'm not sure I understand --"

"My father carved me out of a tree! I`m a piece of wood!"

All of the unexplained things that had happened around Clark ran through Lex's mind, all the lies Clark had told.

"My father found a tree on your estate the day the sky fell. It was glowing green, and he carved me from it as a gift for my mom. I'm just a freak." Clark was close to tears now. "I`m not even real."

"No! You are real." He moved closer to Clark. "You're real to me. I think you're the only real friend I've ever had."

"I'm not! Would a real friend lie to you all this time?"

He rubbed Clark`s shoulders. "You're telling me now. That's what's important." It wasn't the only thing that was important, but they'd deal with that later. Lex couldn't stand seeing Clark so upset.

"Because I can`t lie to you anymore! Because I`m such a freak I don`t even have a choice about it!" Clark shouted. He jerked back, and almost ripped his pants pulling them down so quickly.

Lex stared in shock as Clark exposed himself. He was big. Very big.

"Every time I lie to you it gets bigger. It only happens around you. I don't know why. I'm just a freak, a monster . . ."

Lex couldn't resist any longer and enfolded Clark in his arms, holding him tightly as Clark clutched his shirt. "You're not a monster, Clark. I know. I was raised by a monster." He mumbled something, and Lex gently raised his face, wiping the few tears away, hating the part of himself that couldn't help but notice their strange appearance. "What did you say?"

"He owns me. Your father. The tree was on the King's estate. That`s why Dad was afraid to let me be around you."

His embrace tightened instinctively, an overwhelming need to protect Clark taking control of him. He had no problem imagining what would happen to Clark at his father's hands. "He won't touch you. I promise," he said fiercely. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

Clark sniffed loudly, and looked at him. "I believe you, Lex," he whispered.

Time seemed to slow down, each second stretched taught as his body became aware of the beautiful young man in his arms. The sound of his heartbeat filled his ears as Clark nervously leaned forward and kissed him. The angle was wrong, and they bumped noses, painfully in his case. Clark tried to step back, obviously embarrassed, but Lex stopped him, staring into his leaf green eyes. The color of new growth, of new beginnings. He tilted Clark's head, breathing, "Try it like this," against his lips.

He tasted like the perfect apple, like paradise. The inside of his mouth was moist, but perfectly smooth, as was his tongue. Clark moaned deep in his chest, and pressed against him, rubbing their groins together. He could feel Clark's huge cock pressing insistently against him, as his own twitched in response. He slipped a leg between Clark's, mimicking the action of his mimicking the action of his tongue with his thigh against Clark's erection. Ran his hands up Clark's broad back, feeling the muscles bunch and shift. Gripping Clark`s hard ass, he rocked against him harder. The friction caused his silk shorts to slide again his cock deliciously. Licked his neck, sucked on his ear. Sweet. Clark was sweet inside and out. Lex felt him come unexpectedly in his arms, and held him, soothing him through the aftershocks.

"I'm sorry." Clark hid his face.

"It's all right. I'm flattered. Besides, if anyone is to blame, it`s me. You`re so hot I got carried away."

"Really?" he asked doubtfully.

"Really and truly." He couldn't resist another quick kiss. "Come to the bedroom with me? We won't do anything you don't want to do, Clark." As far as he knew Clark was a virgin, something Lex had no experience with. The last thing he wanted to do was pressure him, but they would be more comfortable upstairs.

"Do you trust me?"

"More than I've trusted anyone since my mother died." That earned him a wistful smile and a quick kiss.

"Where's your bedroom?"

Lex was puzzled, but willing to play along. "Upstairs, third door to the right. Why --" The world blurred around him, and then he was being set down in front of his bed. He grabbed Clark to steady himself. "That was . . . interesting." He grinned slyly. "I can think of much better ways to make the room spin however."

Clark laughed, a sound Lex was beginning to crave, and jumped on the bed eagerly. "It's purple! I knew it would be purple."

Joining him, Lex replied, "Thought about what my bed looks like a lot, have you?" Clark pulled him into a kiss. He was definitely a fast learner, thought Lex, the room beginning to spin in a far more pleasant fashion.

"Actually, it looks just like I imagined. Except for all the naked servants."

Naked servants? The image of a nude Mrs. Phelps, his grandmotherly cook, flashed into his mind, and he shook his head in mental recoil. He'd much rather contemplate a nude Clark. He kissed Clark again, finding a spot behind his ear that produced lovely shivers. He inhaled Clark's scent. Lex had become addicted to this smell, a strange fragrance that reminded him of fresh air and springtime. Slowly working his way down, he cataloged each response. Clark writhed when he nibbled on his nipple through flannel, causing Lex to breathe heavily as rode Clark's leg.

"Can I take your shirt off, Clark?"

Clark sat up at that and hurriedly undressed himself, as if he were afraid Lex might change his mind.

He couldn't help but laugh as Clark literally tore off his clothes and threw them to the corners of the room. Had he ever laughed during sex before? "Let me guess. You don't believe in opening presents slowly," he joked. He would show him the benefits in taking things slowly later. Now, he was thrilled with Clark's urgency. Lex had never known anyone who approached sex with such delight. There was absolutely no disquiet in him, no hint of power games.

"Nope. And speaking of presents . . ."

Lex had no time to admire the image in front of him before Clark tackled him, stripping him of his clothes with only slightly less speed. A few buttons were lost, but Lex was more than willing to sacrifice them. He had a moment to fear what an invulnerable wooden mouth could do to him, especially with Clark's ravenous expression, but the thought had barely formed before his back arched with pleasure as Clark kissed and sucked his way down his neck and chest. Mapping his skin, the line of his jawbone, the hollow between his collarbones. Show him once, and he was off and running, Lex thought, groaning under the dual sensations of mouth and fingers on his nipples.

Clark paused, and Lex could feel his dick get harder, as he looked at him all over from toes to head, a visual caress. Clark frowned when he got to the top, and Lex tensed, years of whispers ringing in his mind.

"Are you going to leave that on?"


"Your crown. You're not going to leave that on, are you?"

It had never occurred to Lex to take it off. He refused to sleep in it like his father did, but he always wore it around other people. He swallowed audibly, abruptly nervous.

"You'll be more comfortable without it."

Lex seized his hand as Clark reached for it, and he stopped, baffled. Lex searched his face, then slowly let go, and nodded for him to take it off.

Clark put it on the bedside table, and then snuggled next to Lex. "Tell me what to do?" he said, looking at Lex's cock excitedly.

"Why don't you start with what feels good to you," Lex said, petting Clark`s chest, more to reassure himself than Clark. "You're doing wonderfully so far."


That beaming smile again, the one Lex thought of as his own. The one he was beginning to need like he needed air.

Clark touched him tentatively, almost shyly exploring the length of his cock, cupping his balls and rolling them gently. Lex realized suddenly that this would all be stranger for him than even an average virgin. He wondered how often he'd even touched a normal person, other than a giving his parents a hug. "That feels good," he reassured him, running his hands over Clark`s shoulders. That seemed to help, and Clark became surer, the eager, excited expression coming back to his movements. He was really getting into it, and so was Lex. Clark sped up, and Lex shifted with him, fucking his hand. Clark was a natural, hitting all his favorite spots as if his hand had been created just for Lex's cock. He twisted on the bed, overwhelmed. Clenching the sheets, throwing his head back, Lex panted in time with the thrusts, moving his hips in time with Clark's actions.

"That's so hot, Lex," Clark gasped, twining his other hand with Lex`s. The touch on the sensitive skin between his fingers was all it took for Lex to pour out his pleasure, jerking spasmodically as he came.

When he regained his senses, Clark looked so proud of himself, it was all he could do not to laugh. He wisely kissed him instead, petting the back of his neck. "Lie down. I want to look at you."

And just like that the light in his eyes went out. "Clark? What's wrong?" Lex tipped his head up, trying to get him to meet his eyes. Clark`s body was tense, his natural exuberance gone, as was his erection. "Clark?" Shit. Mentally cursing himself for his stupidity, he pulled Clark down next to him. Throwing a leg over him, Lex stroked his back until he felt him slowly relax.

"Do you know why I hesitated to let you take off my coronet earlier?" he said softly.

Clark shook his head, buried against Lex's neck.

"It's protocol to keep it on. It's a sign of authority. After I lost my hair, I was whipped if I took it off. My father said the crown was the only way anyone could tell I was still royalty."

Clark raised his head, shocked. "That's horrible! Your father must be the stupidest man alive!"

Lex had expected Clark to be sympathetic, but this struck him speechless.

"You could be covered in nothing but cow manure, and everyone would still know you're a prince. Every thing about you is regal."

His eyes closed, holding back the sudden prickling of tears. He felt strong arms go around him, a slight rocking motion. He pushed down the pain, and lost himself in kissing Clark, pouring his heart into it, his gratitude that Clark was in his life. Placing a final kiss on Clark's lips, he waited for Clark to open his eyes, and look at him. The light was back, but Lex wasn't sure how long that would last. "You trust me don't you?"

"Of course I trust you."

He nodded. "Then trust me with this. Let me look at you." Lex felt Clark's burgeoning erection go flaccid again.

Clark didn't answer, but eventually nodded, lying stiffly on his back like a sacrifice. He clutched Lex's hand as a lifeline, but they didn't touch otherwise.

Lex looked at him, his first good look at Clark's nude body. His cock really was huge, even soft. It was just as perfectly formed as the rest of him though. If Pygmalion had worked in wood instead of stone, he would have created Clark, he thought. His body was hairless like Lex`s. He wondered if Clark understood that was unusual. Clark's grip on his hand increased, and he realized he'd been quiet too long.

"You're beautiful. No, don't shake your head. I'm absolutely serious." He waited until Clark looked him in the eye. "I've never lied to you, and I'm not lying now. You're gorgeous. You glow. You walk into a room and the sun comes out. Did you realize I look for ways to make you smile just so I can see it?"

Clark shook his head, his eyes filled with wonder.

"You make me want to write cliché filled bad poetry about spring and rosebuds."

Clark laughed at that, leaning up on his elbows.

"You're beautiful, Clark. Inside and out. Don't ever doubt it."

"I love you, Lex."

"I love you too." He hadn't said that to anyone since his mother died, and had never expected to say it again. "With all my heart."

He stretched out on Clark and kissed him.


Clark had never been so happy in all his life. He wondered if it was possible to die of happiness. He was positive he was about to find out when Lex settled between his legs, under the apparent impression his dick was a lollipop. And lucky for Clark, it must be his favorite flavor. He squeaked in a way that would have embarrassed him if his brain were working as Lex lavished attention to the head of his cock. The tiny part of his mind still functioning wondered if Lex had an eight-inch prehensile tongue like the giraffe girl Pete went out with once before she went crazy. It certainly felt like it. Wet heat surrounded him, suction sending him out of mind. Gasping as throat muscles stroked him, wet fingers on a spot behind his balls he never even knew existed. Wound tighter and tighter, hips jerking rhythmically, spiraling out of control, so close, so close --

Clark popped his head up, shocked and painfully frustrated when Lex suddenly stopped. Lex had an extremely strange look on his face. "What?" he choked out.

"You don't have an asshole."

"Is that a problem?"

Lex barked out a laugh. "I think I can work around it."

Lex did not get back to what he had been doing like he was obviously supposed to, but instead got up and took a small box from the bedside table. "Lex?"

"Don't worry, Clark. I like a challenge." Lex lay back against the pillows, bending his knees, and opened the box.

Huh? What challenge? He was naked and hard on Lex's bed. Pretty much the definition of a sure thing here.

"Come here."

Lex was back to the growly oh so sexy voice, and he rolled over to him instantly. Maybe Lex wanted Clark to try that lollipop thing on him.


Lex put some clear gel on his fingers, then pulled his legs to his chest and lay back.

Clark stared at his fingers blankly. What . . .


He spread the gel on Lex's cock, and bent down to show Lex everything he'd recently learned about giving head. The stuff didn't taste very good, but if that's the way Lex liked it, he was willing to go along with it. From the sounds Lex was making he thought he was doing pretty good too, until Lex told him he needed to stop and prepare him. He frowned. "Prepare you for what?"

"So we can have sex of course, Clark."

Now Lex was looking confused too. "Aren't we already doing that?"

"Yes, Clark, but I want you to fuck me. Put some more lube on your fingers and --"

"Fuck you?" his voice broke on the word. "But Lex, we can't."

"We'll have to take it slow, certainly. It's been awhile. I'm sure we can manage however."

Clark was more confused than ever. "Uh, Lex. Maybe you haven't noticed, but we're both guys. I mean, there`s no where to, to . . ." He trailed off in embarrassment.

Lex stared at him a moment, then pulled him into his arms. He cleared his throat. "Clark, how much do you know about what two men can do together?"

He shifted nervously. There was definitely something he wasn't getting here. "What do you mean?"

"Do you remember when I was surprised that you didn't have an asshole?"

"Yeah, what does that have to do . . . you're kidding!" Clark stared at him, frozen in utter astonishment. Growing up on a farm, his parents had never really needed to explain sex to him. He also knew some kids in school who preferred their own gender too. But Lex was talking about . . . was he insane? "It'll never fit!"

"It will, Clark. I'll show you how."

"No." He looked down at his cock, and tried to imagine that ever entering Lex's body. He thought he might be sick. "I'd kill you!"

"It will be all right."

Clark shook his head. There was no way. Just no way.


He looked up at Lex.

"Trust, remember."

"You really want to do this. You`ll like it?"


"You'll tell me if I hurt you?

"I'll tell you if you hurt me."

Clark bit his lip; then finally nodded his head. "Tell me what to do." It was actually easier than Clark thought it would be, and Lex definitely seemed to enjoy it. Clark certainly enjoyed watching him squirm and shake on the end of his fingers. Apparently his prostate was the magic button that made Lex babble like Peter Piper. He'd never seen Lex wasn't he wasn't thinking at least five things at once. Now he was all body though. Out of his mind in ecstasy because of him. Clark could watch Lex like this forever.

He got nervous again when Lex had him lie on his back, and slipped a condom on him, slathering him with more gel. Lex must be afraid of splinters, Clark thought despondently. He still didn't see how this was going to work. It looked like trying to thread a baseball bat through a needle's eye to him. This was going to end up in death for both of them, he was sure. He'd kill Lex, and get sentenced to execution by woodpeckers or something. It would go down in the annals of history as a particularly gruesome way to die. Heh. Annals. He gritted his teeth to keep from giggling nervously.

Lex straddled his hips, resting his weight on his knees. "Line us up, Clark."

He did as Lex said, shaking his head the whole time. If it wasn't for his teenage hormones, he wasn't sure he'd still be hard. Lex leaned back, slowly lowering himself down on the head of his shaft.

Clark sucked in his breath hard at the sensation. Like nothing he'd ever felt, ever imagined.

"Don't move!"

He grunted with the effort to be still, supporting Lex with his hands. They added more lube, and Lex began to slowly raise up and down, taking more and more of him in. Clark's eyes squeezed shut, pinwheels of color in his vision, the universe narrowing down to the small area that connected them. Groaning as the intensity grew along his cock, like sparkling under skin, spreading out in waves along his body.

"Look at me."

The vision of Lex moving above him, biting his lip, twisting as he jerked himself, up and down, up and down with the movement of Clark`s hips. Heat flowed through him, almost sizzling along his nerves, pulsing through his body, ecstasy so sharp it bordered on pain. He'd been right about the lightening strike. He just hadn't realized the tree enjoyed it. A boiling, swirling under his skin. They moved together, tighter and higher, up and down, surging through him, so hot, so searing. The room exploded around him in a shower of white sparks as they climaxed together.

When he came to, Lex was collapsed against him, and for one heart pounding moment Clark was afraid he'd killed him. Lex pressed a faint kiss against his sweaty chest and he started breathing again. Stroking the lean muscles of his back, he closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. Something was gnawing at the edge of his brain though, something not quite right . . .

His eyes popped open in amazement. Sweaty chest? He didn't sweat! He stared at his hand. His golden, pink hand. With veins, and hairs and lifeline on his palm. Touched his face and felt the tiniest stubble. His hair! His hair was soft and silky. He could run his fingers through it. The realization zinged through his body. "Lex!" He practically shouted right in his ear.

Lex jumped up. "What? What`s wrong?"

"Look at me! Look at me, I'm real!"

Lex gazed at him in awe a moment, and then gently rested his hand over Clark's rapidly beating heart. "You were real before, Clark. You're just a different real now."

"I'm a real boy now!" he said gleefully.

He winced. "Man, Clark. At least say you're real man now."

"Whatever!" He grabbed Lex and spun him around laughing in delight. "You brought me to life!" he said, finally putting Lex down. "I guess all those stories about princes really are true."

"Only with you, Clark. Only with you," Lex said softly.

They kissed, and Clark finally knew what all those stories meant by happily ever after.

The End