by Debra Fran Baker
Taste Is the Only Morality
Debra Fran Baker
"Don't you have chores or homework or something?" Lex smiled at Clark over his glass of scotch. "Not that I'm not glad to see you. Especially on a bright Sunday afternoon like this." He gestured to the pouring rain outside.
Clark grinned and lounged in the leather chair by Lex's desk. For a moment, Lex remembered a different Clark, one he still did not understand - a Clark in expensive clothing, looking ten years older, looking like he owned the chair, the clothes, the castle and Lex himself. But the image faded, leaving the one he knew, in old, damp clothes, who still looked like he belonged in that chair. Who still owned Lex.
Only an idiot would fall in love with a teen-age boy. Only a bigger idiot would...he pushed the memory far, far back in his mind.
"All done - cows, barn, Math and English." Clark took a glance both at Lex's drink and at the pile of papers on his desk. "You can't ever be finished, can you?"
"Not and stay in business. Lexcorp is too new and too important for this town for me to stop." And for you. "But there's nothing here that can't wait." He closed the laptop, straightened the papers into a neat stack, stashed them into a drawer, then leaned back and sipped his scotch. "So, Clark. What do you want to do?"
"Can I...can I taste that?" He stared at the glass in Lex's hand.
"You're too young. Your father will kill me. And you'd hate it." Lex put the drink down.
"I - wasn't too young for other things." He blushed. "Things we did."
Lex swallowed. "What are you talking about, Clark?" He needed that scotch now. He didn't dare pick it up.
"When that thing happened to me. When I got all...you know. Weird. Changed." Lex could not believe Clark could blush more, but he apparently could.
"You told me you didn't remember what had happened, or why." Especially the why. Lex beat down his curiousity.
"I - I've been having dreams. And flashes. And...you're in them." Now it seemed he couldn't even look at Lex. So he had to be telling the truth. Clark could lie without blinking. Funny how that bothered Lex less and less, as he lied to Clark more and more.
"Maybe those are just dreams."
"Maybe. But then how come I remember you saying the exact same thing you just did? Only about something else." He sat up on the chair, looking at Lex. "Something I wanted to do in return for borrow the Ferrari."
"Oh, my God." Lex did take a slug of his scotch. "You remember."
"Not all of it. Just pieces. Just enough to know you were wrong about what you said when I offered to...you know. Do what I did." Lex had the image from that moment burned into his brain - Clark in black designer clothes, dropping to his knees in front of him and grinning.
"You are too young. Your father would kill me." Why couldn't he speak above a whisper? And why wasn't he more worried about Mrs. Kent? Surely her wrath would be the greater.
"I did like it. I remember liking it. I remember." Lex remembered, too. Clark looked quite pleased when he finished. "And, I'm not too young. You told me. You told me you were younger when...when you had your first time." Clark looked at him, and licked his lips. "Lex. I want to know what it felt like. All of it."
"You were different." Lex put down his glass and walked around his desk. "You were under some influence you can't even remember." He sat down next to Clark. "How do you know you'll like it now?"
"I liked it then. And I want to. I want to so much that just thinking about it..." He stared down at his lap, his face matching his t-shirt. Lex followed his gaze. Okay, that was an impressive erection. Clark met his eyes; Lex could see the effort. "I should be freaked that I'm gay or bi or whatever I am, but right now, all I want is to kiss you."
Lex met him halfway. Clark's lips were warm and soft, and they responded to his as if they'd been doing this forever. "Your father will kill me. So will my father. And probably your mother, too."
"How will they know?" He smiled, and for a moment, Lex saw the same strange, older Clark he'd betrayed those weeks ago.
"Oh, they'll know. Parents have a way of knowing." Lex smiled back.
"I don't care. I. I think I'm in love with you, Lex, and don't tell me I'm only sixteen and don't know what love is." And he was sixteen again, his lips swollen and beautiful in that young face. "I want to - I don't know what I want to do. Tell me, Lex."
"What do you want to do?" Lex knew what he wanted. Clark was all he fantasized about these days; had been for months now.
Clark bit his lip and rubbed his hands up and down his jeans. "I want to - to go to bed with you. I want to do everything with you. I'm a fast learner; teach me." He'd been staring at his hands; he looked back at Lex. "Please."
Maybe the strongest man in the universe could have resisted that, but Lex wasn't made of steel. He nodded, and kissed Clark again, drawing him to his feet and holding him close. "Yes. I'm an idiot, but yes."
Clark had begun to shed denim and flannel all the way to the bedroom, but Lex stopped let him. He'd wanted to undress Clark slowly, peel those layers off. Clark seemed to have different ideas. He was naked as soon as they arrived, even before Lex had his shirt unbuttoned.
Lex didn't mind terribly. Clark had a long, lean body with broad shoulders and smooth muscles, and just the lightest dusting of dark hair on his chest and belly, his thighs and arms. And in the center, his perfectly formed cock, hard and red, surrounded by curls nearly as thick as those on his head. Lex let his eyes travel up. There was a trace of stubble on Clark's face, too.
"Lex? Aren't you going to take your clothes off?" He nodded, and stripped, wanting to dive under the covers when he was done. He knew what Clark would see - his body was pale and hairless, everywhere. He was eternally grateful for the fate that gave him eyebrows and lashes, but he'd wondered at the rituals of manhood such as shaving - which Clark clearly did, at least occasionally. "Oh, wow. You're...I want to touch you everywhere." Moments later, he wrapped himself around Lex, kissing his shoulders, his chest, his nipples, his hands moving everywhere at once, sliding down Lex's body until he was kneeling. "I hope I do this right."
"Clark, you don't have to...oh." Clark's mouth was still warm and soft, and he was eager. He was also not very good, his tongue and teeth fumbling in the wrong places, his hands alternately too soft and too heavy, much like the first time. He remembered the contrast between how sophisticated Clark had acted and how inexperienced he'd actually been. Next time, he'd show Clark how to do it right.
Next time. He'd be an idiot to do this again. He'd be an idiot not to. He'd let the idiots inside him fight it out, and just enjoy this time, because even Clark's uncertain technique was working just fine. And Clark swallowed all he had to give, and when he was finished, Clark licked his lips as if he'd just finished a glass of his parents' organic milk. "I liked it this time, too." He laughed as he said it, and then he pushed Lex onto the bed. "Now what?"
Lex eyed Clark's cock again, measuring it with his eyes. "Your turn. Or maybe it's mine again." He grinned a little. "Have you ever had sex, Clark? With a girl, I mean?" He thought he knew the answer.
"I think so." Lex was, apparently, wrong. "With that girl, though I don't remember much, except her laughing at me. And, never with a guy. Except that blow job in your office. Although, I've been thinking about it a lot. How it would feel to have someone inside me. You inside me." He smiled at Lex.
"What about being inside a guy?" Clark's eyes widened. "Yep. Because I want you there. Now." Lex pulled free of Clark's arms to crawl to a night table, and pulled out condoms and lube. Clark stared at them. "Don't worry. I'll show you how."
"Lex. Um. I'm pretty strong. I mean, really, really, really strong. What if I hurt you?"
"I trust you absolutely, Clark." He handed the supplies to him. Slowly, carefully, Clark followed all his instructions, preparing Lex, preparing himself, driving Lex nearly to orgasm again with his hands, one on his penis, one deep inside him, until Lex pushed him away and turned on his side, bending one knee and letting Clark enter him, writhing with pleasure and a hint of pain until Clark was pressed against him.
And then they began to move together, Clark picking up all his clues as if they were longtime lovers, as if they'd done this before and would do it again, a thousand times. More. And they would. As his orgasm crashed through him, as he heard Clark gasp and, oddly, felt him release his arms entirely, he knew they would do this again. That he loved Clark and would prove it. Would take care of him, and protect him. Would do whatever it took to keep him safe and his. Forever.
But he also knew he couldn't say that to him, even while they cuddled in his bed watching television, and Clark did finally taste that scotch. All Lex could do was laugh at the face he made. "Told you you wouldn't like it." And then he kissed him. "Even if I was wrong about other things."
Clark hit him with a pillow and kissed his head.
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