The Education of Clark Kent

by Ilexa


This is part of Ghini TyNant's "Explore the Castle" Challenge, archived here: http://www.notdeadyetstudios.com/bunnyfarm/Pages/challenges.html.
Dedication: To Caro, who taunts me with bunnies and ideas and prodding and telling me how hot my fic is. *You* try telling her no. It just doesn't work. Also to my schmoopykins, Twelfth of Always, who supports my obsession and even betas for me, despite her absence from the fandom. They are both wonderful friends and fabulous betas.
Feedback: Dear God, yes please. Its how we feed our fresh meat at Ilexa's House of Porn and Farmboys! You don't want them wasting away now, do you???


"What is this place, Lex?" Clark looked around the large room. Light filtered through a row of stained-glass windows casting rainbows on the dust motes floating in the stale air. Dust covered the tomes that filled the bookshelves lining the other walls A blackboard hung along one wall and covered furniture was scattered throughout the room. He dropped his book bag on the floor.

"It's the old schoolroom, Clark. Once upon a time, aristocrats had their children taught at home, by governesses or tutors. This is where ancestral Luthors began their education and plotted to conquer the world," Lex said, surveying the room as well.

"Mom home schooled me for a few years. I was, uh, a little behind and she didn't want me to feel out of place with the other kids. And they had all known each other from birth, and here I was, this new kid from nowhere." Clark tried to keep the self-pity out of his voice, but knew he likely failed. He decided to switch the subject of himself. "This room. It's kind of-- well, depressing, Lex."

"Education isn't for fun, Clark. It's preparation to take your rightful place in the world," Lex channeled his father as best he could. He smiled. "Can't tell that's been drilled into me since day one, can you?"

Clark smiled back sadly, wishing he could do something to take away that wistful look in Lex's eyes. "So what was it like for you? School, I mean. I can't imagine what those private schools are like."

Lex thought for a minute and shrugged. "Probably not much different than Smallville High. Except for the buildings named after classmates' families, the absentee parents, the all-boy atmosphere, the experimentation ... "

Clark's ears perked up at the last word "Exper...?"

"But I was smart. I didn't have to work that hard to keep up good grades to keep my father happy. It was still never good enough though." Lex walked around the large wooden instructor's desk to stand before the windows, glancing out through a clear pane.

After several moments of silence, Clark began to speak. "Lex..."

"I had this one teacher, Mr. Smythe, who taught classical history. I detested the class. My father had pounded those lessons into me since birth. I thought I was far better qualified to teach the class, and let him know on a daily basis." Lex's eyes focused on a time long since passed. "One day, I guess he'd had enough of my supplemental instruction. He asked me to stay after class."

A smile hinted at Lex's lips, but stopped before it reached his eyes still trained on the window. "He told me that my daily interruptions of his lessons were to stop immediately. If I wanted to teach someday, that was fine, but this was his class." Lex chuckled. "I had to admire that. I asked him why I should wait when I obviously knew enough now. I think that was what did it. He told me to bend over."

Clark always loved hearing Lex talk -- about anything -- just to hear his voice. But something about this particular memory had added an edge, a huskiness, to Lex's voice. Lex seemed somewhere far from this room, yet Clark had never felt closer to him. The intimacy of the moment caused all sorts of thoughts to run rampant through his head, his breath shallowing and eyes widening as he listened to Lex talk. He ducked his head, staring at the floor. He watched, riveted, as Lex turned, mimicking his words on the large wooden desk now before him.

"And he had this paddle," Lex leaned back up slightly and held his hands about 18 inches apart, "made of solid wood. And he tapped it against his other hand as I put my hands on the desk."

Lex resumed his position. Clark stared, lips parted, at the sight of his friend's bent form, separated from him by the expanse of solid oak.

"And I had no intention of letting him win, letting him know that it hurt. But that first ... smack is like- God, it takes your breath away. And before you can get it back, there's the second one."

Clark could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Sweat began to form on his upper lip. Lex's voice, the schoolroom setting, the stale electricity in the room -- he couldn't help but imagine it.

Lex looked up and met Clark's eyes. Something intense flickered there and Clark found himself unable to tear his gaze away.

"Have you ever been paddled, Clark?" Lex's voice dropped two octaves, whispering across the live wires of Clark's nerves. His breaths became pants as he struggled to answer.

Lex came around the desk, invading Clark's space, perched on the solid wood. "I bet not," he said. "You've always been such a good boy. Doing exactly what everyone expects of you. Saving lives. Rescuing kittens. " His smirk grew to a shark's smile. "You don't even know what real trouble is. Do you, Clark?"

"Is that what you think, Lex?" The passion that had been welling up inside Clark quickly became anger. He stalked towards Lex. "I can be bad. Do you think I like being good all the time? Doing what everyone expects?" Clark's voice tightened with the tension in his body. "God, Lex, sometimes I just-- I just want to lose control. Give it up to someone else. Quit worrying about what people would say about 'the Kent boy'." The space of a breath, crackling with intensity, separated them.

Lex tilted his and looked up at the boy towering so wound up in front of him. "All that anger, Clark. That's not very ... appropriate. I think you need to be taught a lesson."

Those words wafted over Clark, settling in every pore on every nerve, changing his anger back to passion in a heartbeat. "Lex." The only word that existed in his mind came out as a breath.

"Is that what you want, Clark? For me to teach you a lesson? Show you what control is all about. Having it, giving it, losing it. " Lex reached up to stroke along Clark's full bottom lip that quivered gently. "Are you afraid, Clark?"

"N- no, I'm not scared." Hands clenching at his sides belied his emotions. "I- show me, Lex. I want ... "

Lex's hand slid along the boy's jaw to the raven curls behind his ear. His mouth followed the path. "What, Clark?" he whispered. "Tell me what you want. Tell me and it's yours." His tongue flicked against Clark's earlobe, earning him a full-body shudder. "Tell me," he said, more insistently. "Tell me what you want or this ends now."

Lex made a slight move as if to leave when Clark grabbed the wrist at his hair. "I've been bad, Lex. I- I need.... I think I should be punished." Words that would have been a tease from anyone else were softened by the blush that stained his cheekbones.

The boys faced each other inches apart. Clark stroked his thumb along the wrist he held bound to his scalp. "I want it, Lex. I know you do, too."

Lex bared his teeth in a smile that sent shivers down Clark's spine. "Clark, Clark," he sighed. "You don't even know what you're asking do you?" The tightening hand in Clark's hair would have brought tears to anyone else's eyes. "Do you?"

His eyes glittered with-- something Clark didn't understand but knew he wanted. Desperately. He wanted Lex desperately. Just Lex. Showing him how to give it up.

"What's the matter, Lex? Maybe *you're* the one who's afraid. Maybe you just don't. Have it. In you." He punctuated the last few words with tiny licks against Lex's jaw.

Lex drew lifted his chin, bringing his jaw out of contact with Clark's warm seeking lips. "I'm not the one you should be worried about Clark. But you seem pretty confident. Cocky." He shook his head slowly. "I think we'll just have to do something about that."

The hand wrapped in his black locks drew Clark to the desk. "Bend. Over," he whispered into Clark's ear. "Hands on the table. Feet apart." Clark obeyed, his heart pounding in his ears, blood running like molten lava through his veins.

As he stood there waiting, he heard Lex say, "Now what should I use?" Lex placed his right hand next to Clark's and leaned in close, his words a mere breath against Clark's face. "My hand?" His left hand caressed Clark's denim-clad ass. "Hmmmm. I don't know if that would be ... enough."

"Oh, God..." He whispered.

"No, you're right. My hand wouldn't be enough. We need something more ... substantial." Clark felt himself grow harder at the images that sentence produced. He saw Lex's eyes flickered to the sword displayed on the wall near a bookshelf.

"How about the flat of a sword, Clark?" His words trickled across Clark like a charged current. He feared he would come just from this, from Lex's husky, velvet voice wrapped around these hot words. "Hmmm? What do you think? Cold, hard steel smacking against your warm flesh, heating it, burning into you? Is that what you want?"

Clark's breathing bordered on hyperventilating. He couldn't believe the effect Lex was having on him. It was overwhelming and hot and wonderful and he wanted to come and he wanted it to never end. He felt Lex's nose nuzzle against his hair as his lips traced the curve of his ear. "Clark? Are you with me?"

It took several attempts before he could answer. "Ye- Yes. God, Lex, Yes ... I'm--" Stunned. Overwhelmed. Hard. Aching. Needing. "Leeeex..." was the only word he could push past his lips, coming out on a broken sigh.

Lex's tongue flicked his earlobe before sinking his teeth gently into it. "Just checking. I wouldn't want you to lose ... concentration ... just yet." Clark followed Lex's gaze as he scanned the room, coming to rest on a familiar object. Clark's eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat when he saw what Lex had in mind. "Wait here. Don't. Move. Understand?" He slid across the room to the wall.

Lex slid his hands suggestively along the wooden pointer, his thumb lazily circling over the tip. He sauntered back across to stand beside Clark, molding his body over the younger boy's, the stick nestled gently against his ass.

"How about this Clark? The precursor to laser pointers. Kind of like a pool cue." Again his words spilled into Clark's ear from a mere inch away, so that he could feel as much as hear them. "I've seen you, watching me, when we play pool. Did you know that I would imagine you? That it was your long hard cock in my hands as I stroked the pool cue?"

He ran his left hand along the wooden pole, where it nestled against Clark. Each stroke pressed the cue a little more snugly against his body while affording Lex's had the opportunity to caress his ass.

Clark's mind shut down as he let out an anguished whimper. He pressed back more firmly, his body thrilling to the feel of the long rod pressed against him. His mind's eye pictured Lex there, Lex's hard swollen cock pressed against his cleft, clothes falling away, all that smooth warm delicious skin pressed against his. Biting his lip, he failed to suppress the moan that seemed to come from some dark place inside him.

He heard the clatter, but more than that, felt the abandonment when Lex tossed the stick away. His disappointment was short lived as his fantasy began to take shape. Lex's body molded over the back of his, hands framing Clark's where they still rested on the desk, warm, hard -- oh, God -- cock taking up residence where the pointer had just been.

This time Lex's voice stirred the hairs along the back of Clark's neck.

"Well, you seemed to be enjoying that entirely too much Clark. And that's not what this is about is it, Clark? This is about" Lex thrust forward into the boy's willing body "punishment."

God, Lex had the sexiest voice God or Satan ever created, whispering over Clark's raw skin, raw nerves, gilding the rough spots like warm velvet or the silk of the shirts Lex usually wore, cruelly hiding his body from Clark. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

But he wanted this to last. Oh, God, this was every daydream he never allowed himself, every wet dream he never admitted. Lex had to know -- oh, fuck -- had to know what the sound of his name falling from those wicked, scarred lips was doing to him.

"Lex-- God, I don't know how, how much more I can-- Lex please stop teasing me and-- God, and do something!" Clark knew he sounded desperate but fuck-- he was.

Lex's head came to rest between his shoulder blades. "God, Clark you're so fucking sexy when you beg. So fucking hot. Do you have any idea?" He chuckled lightly. "No, of course you don't."

His head lifted so that his lips, not his forehead, touched Clark's back. His hands slid up Clark's chest and began unbuttoning the flannel shirt.

Pulling his head back, he whispered, "You should be punished enough for always wearing plaid flannel." A soft chuckle filled Clark's ears as Lex's hands finished with the buttons. "Lift your arms," he commanded as he divested Clark of the offending garment. When Clark moved to resume his stance, he was stopped by Lex's "wait" and hands on his stomach.

The feel of those long pale fingers caressing the muscles of his stomach was almost Clark's undoing. The choked plea of "Lex!" alerted him to this fact and Lex quickly stripped the boy's upper body.

"Back to where you were," Lex ordered.

Clark could feel blue eyes mapping the contours of his naked back long before he felt the fingers ghost along the taut flesh there. At that moment, Clark wished desperately for a power that would let him see behind himself.

"No, I think I've decided you should be punished for hiding this ... body from me. And for teasing me with it. For making me lie in bed at night, imagining you beside me, above me, inside me." At Clark's gasp, he continued. "Was it the same for you Clark? Do you lie awake at night, touching yourself, imagining it's me, wishing it was me, stroking you, sucking you, fucking you?"

The shudder that wracked Clark's body was not enough of an answer for Lex.

"Tell me Clark. Tell me the truth or this stops." With that, Lex was gone. No lips, no hands, no breath, no heat. Clark struggled to answer. He had to get Lex back. His body ached for him like it never had before.

"Y-yes," he finally managed, and he felt Lex return in increments. "Lex, oh fuck yes. I've wanted you for so long. This. You. Me. Us." Confession made easy against closed eyelids. "I-- I'd fantasize that it was your hands on-- on my body and it-- it's always your name I call out. Since-- ever since that night you saved me on the cross."

Lex's lips returned to his back, this time meeting bare flesh instead of cotton. His tongue darted out to taste the golden skin and, urged by Clark's throaty moans, stayed to lick generously.

"That's good Clark. So good. You're not as bad as I thought. But you still hid this from me. This beautiful body and these beautiful thoughts." Lex reached for Clark's waistband and began unfastening them.

Clark moaned as Lex's fingers bumped against him as he slid the zipper down. With one hand on Clark's waistband, he gently but firmly slid the heel of his hand up the length of the straining erection. He circled the head lightly with the center of his palm, eliciting a gasp and thrust from the boy in his arms.

"Lex ... oh, God, please. Oh I want you so bad. I need-- Oh, fuck. I can't ... I'm gonna come." He swiped his forehead along his upper arm to rub away the sweat forming there. He arched, grinding his ass into Lex's growing erection, his head thrown back, teeth biting into his lower lip enough to draw blood from anyone else.

And suddenly the hand was gone and the warm body behind him drew away slightly. "No. You will not come. Not until I say you can. Understand?" Lex slid the jeans and boxers down and gripped tightly at the base of the freed erection. "Understand?"

The boy nodded, then hung his head limply.

"Good boy. Now strip." Clark toed off one sneaker, then the other struggling to free himself of the clothing. His mind swam with images of himself, of Lex, of limbs and lips and tongues. Feelings he couldn't understand, had never before imagined, swirled through his throbbing body. He ached from head to toe. The most delicious ache that he never wanted to end.

Finally, he stood, slightly bent, hands against the wooden desk, naked and waiting. The room was silent and still except for his breathing, which he couldn't control no matter how hard he tried. It seemed an eternity before Lex spoke or moved.

"I think I've got it." Lex drew the words out slowly adding to Clark's torture. He heard a slight metallic jingle, then the whisper of leather sliding against linen.

"What do you say we be old fashioned about this?" The sound of leather smacking against skin filled the room. "A leather belt." Lex smiled at Clark's shudder. "Like that, do you? What do you like more? The belt? That its leather? Or that you'll remember this every time you see me wear this belt again? I know I will. I may never wear another one, knowing how this leather has caressed the smooth skin of your ass."

Clark felt the first sharp slap of leather against him. It wasn't painful; it was ecstasy. Just the thought of it was hot. Leather that circled Lex's waist smacking against him. He thought of seeing Lex at the Talon, wearing this belt and knowing what had happened between them.

"Clark -- you've been a bad bad boy." Smack. "You've kept secrets from me." Smack. "Let me go on thinking that you were still mooning for your precious little fairy princess." Smack, smack. "When in reality you were thinking the same things I was."

"You." Smack

"Me." Smack.

"Naked." Smack

"Sucking, tasting, licking." Smack

"Fucking." Smack.

"Come for me, Clark." Lips pressed against his ear, words ghosting inside him. "Come now, I want to see you come, I want to feel you." Lex turned the boy's face so he could watch as his orgasm overtook him.

Hazy green eyes stared into intense blue ones. The words had far more effect than the warming leather. Clark's body tensed, and he cried out "Lex!" as he came, shuddering his release. Arms that could lift tractors were suddenly too weak to support his upper body and he sank to the floor, his legs stretched in front of him.

"Ohgodohfuckohlexoh." Clark's ability to communicate obviously went the way of his muscle control. Lex straddled his thighs and his right hand locked into curls on his head. His other hand slid trailed along the softening cock, gathering drops of come there that he sucked off his fingers.

The sight of Lex fucking his mouth with his fingers, sucking *Clark's* come off his fingers, was more than Clark could take. "Fuuuck, Lex," he gasped, pulling his hand free and replacing it with his mouth.

Teeth clashed, tongues darted and licked, and lips slid hot and wet against each other. Feelings, emotions, passions rioted through Clark and he didn't know what to do with it except -- Lex. He'd had Lex and wanted more. Coming had only whet his appetite for that smooth skin, hot mouth-- oh, god, and hard cock. He slid his spread hand down Lex's chest, his stomach, past the absent belt to press against his straining erection.

"Lex--" He was still finding it hard to talk but he wanted more. Knew Lex needed something. Wanted to give it him. Make Lex feel like he felt. "I-- I want ... "

Blue eyes burned into Clark's, telling him without words everything he felt but couldn't express. Lex licked his mouth slowly, like he was savoring the taste of Clark there.

"What do you want Clark?" His tongue darted out to wet Clark's lips. "Hmm? You want more? My mouth? My hands? My cock? Tell me." No one could resist a voice so cajoling, so seductive, so captivating. Nose to nose, lips separated by a breath, Lex said again, "Tell me what you want, Clark."

Clark took a deep breath and swallowed. "In my backpack. The inside pocket."

Lex quirked an eyebrow but moved to where Clark had dropped the red bag upon entering. Unzipping the inner pouch, he smirked as he glanced over at Clark. "Ever the Boy Scout, Clark. Were you planning this?"

"Just ... just hoping."

"Hmmm." Lex removed the tube and condom, walking back to where Clark now stood, leaning heavily against the desk. "How long have you been ... hoping, Clark?" It was hard to meet Lex's eyes with the admission, but considering how far he'd come, "About six months. As soon as I realized that ... that you were the only one I wanted." His voice was firm, but he hoped his face didn't give away the riot of feelings he was experiencing.

Lex curved his hand around Clark's neck, fingers tangling in the hair there, then slid his hand over the firm muscles of his back. Clark arched into the touch, his post-orgasmic body still sensitive and becoming painfully aroused by the second. A second hand joined in the path down until his palms cupped the boy's ass, sliding further to scrape fingernails lightly down the backs of his thighs.

Clark gasped as his hips snapped forward. "Leeex."

The path of Lex's hands drew his body down and around until he curved over Clark's back. His linen-clad erection pressed against Clark, who ground his hips back into the pressure. Small licks punctuated tiny kisses that started at his neck as Lex slowly made his way down along Clark's spine, hips held firmly in place.

"Do you know what this means, Clark? What we're about to do? What I'm going to do to you?"

Clark nodded his head and smiled. "The Internet's a boy's best friend, Lex."

He could feel Lex's smile. "Remind me to get you a T1 line. I'd hate for your education to suffer." He turned Clark's face until he could see his eyes. "But this isn't theory. This is real. Are you sure?"

The look in Lex's eyes gave Clark the courage he needed. He leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to Lex's. "I'm sure. Now fuck me. Hard." He turned his back to Lex again, returning to his bent position.

He heard movement behind him, and then felt a slick, cool finger enter him. "Ah, oh, Lex," he sighed. The finger fucked him slowly four, five times before it slipped out. Before he could protest, it was back and joined with another. He could feel them moving back and forth, stretching him out. He'd read about this; he was prepared. What he wasn't prepared for was when a third finger hit something inside him, shooting pleasure throughout his body. "Holy- Fuck, Lex, what--?"

This time he could actually hear the laughter. "Guess you missed that in your World Wide Web education, huh? That, sweet boy, is your prostate." He nudged it again, and Clark's entire body shuddered. "Consider it a friend."

Clark groaned at the loss of Lex's fingers inside him. He heard more rustling behind him. He knew the condom was unnecessary; he couldn't get sick, and he trusted Lex not to put him in any danger. But those were not conversations he felt like having right now.

The latex-covered head nudged against Clark's opening. "Stay with me. And relax," Lex instructed as he began to push inside.

Heat, fullness, more, need, ache, more, want, take, have, more, more, more -- the words were a litany in Clark's head. Or maybe out loud because Lex bit the juncture of shoulder and neck as he pushed all the way in, burying himself completely. Clark's cock, recently spent, surged back to life at the feeling of this beautiful, sexy man inside -- inside -- of him.

"Oh, God, Clark. I-- Jesus, I never imagined-- oh, so tight, you..." The words died as he bit Clark again, tongue soothing over the damaged flesh. Slowly, he began to withdraw and Clark thrust back to follow the movement. Lex grasped his hip tightly. "Shh. It's okay. Just follow my lead. Trust me."

That he could do. He allowed Lex's hand to guide his hips, moving counter to Lex's thrusts. "Oh Lex, oh yes, oh fuck, oh god. You feel so good. It's so hot. God, I can't believe this is finally happening."

Once Clark found the rhythm, Lex ran both hands all over his body -- chest, biceps, shoulders, ribs, stomach, cock -- oh god. One hand grasped his hard cock, jacking it slowly. The other toyed with hard nipples, pinching and twisting first one then the other. He raised his hand to Clark's mouth, pressing his thumb against his lips, seeking entrance.

Clark greedily sucked on the flesh while Lex's fingers stroked just under his chin. He pulled out with an audible 'pop', and used the wet digit to torment Clark's nipples even more.

"I want to hear you beg, Clark. Do you want to make this good for me?" The dark head nodded vigorously. "I want to make this good for you, too. And I will. But you have to tell me. What you want. How you feel. How I'm making you feel. I want to hear all of it."

He could do this. He wanted to do this, for Lex. "It's hot. You make me so hot. I love the way your hands feel on me. Oh, God! Yeah, that- that's good. You inside me. God, I've wanted it for so long. Dreamt about it." He could feel himself getting closer. He didn't want this to ever end.

"Tell me. Tell what you dreamt."

"You- you'd be in your office and -- oh, fuck -- I'd come in and you'd push me down -- ah Lex! -- down on the pool table or your desk and fuck me. Sometimes, I'd- I'd imagine kneeling in front of you in that leather chair and asking -- oh, God, Lex I'm so close! -- asking, begging you to let me suck you off. Tasting you, feeling you in mouth against my tongue."

The thrust became more erratic, and he knew Lex was close. "Fuck, Clark, that's-- oh, that's fucking hot. I'm so close. I want you to come." The hand on his cock sped up, tightening and twisting. The hand at his chest dropped stroke his sac. "Come for me, Clark. Please, baby, come for me, now!"

His body obeyed Lex's insistent plea and he came for a second time against Lex's hand. The thrusts grew more erratic before Lex stilled then shuddered, calling out Clark's name on a broken cry. Both boys collapsed on the desktop, shuddering and panting, returning to earth.

"Lex?" he asked, when at last he could talk again.

Lex pressed a sucking kiss against his back before answering. "Yes?"

"There are 74 more rooms that you still have to show me, right?"



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