Rating: R
Spoilers: um... Nicodemus, Red... I think that's it. Thanks: to Georgy, who forked over the perfect platitude for this fic; Tuan, who makes an excellent sounding board; and Amy and Signe, who are absolutely rockin' betas, even if Signe did make me redo Clark's realization scene and Amy made me redo the sex scene. Disclaimer: not mine. If they were, I wouldn't just be writing about it. Feedback: is better than Clark!Torment. And is specially requested as this is my first Clex. Summary: '"I've got a molehill. Fantastic."' Notes: for Signe's Clex Hexed Sex Challenge. Required phrase: pale pink boxers.

Clark stood in front of his mirror naked and looked down at his penis. It hung there flaccid as a windsock on a still day. He poked at it once, twice. He'd been three days without an erection. Not even morning wood. And Clark was getting nervous.

He stroked it.

"Hello?" he asked it. He stroked it some more, harder now and he pictured it being Lana's hand as Clark twisted his on the upstroke, or what would've been the upstroke if the thing would just. Stand. Up.

"Come on, wake up!" he whined at it. Nothing. His dick remained stubbornly soft.

"Clark, it's a school day! Are you even out of bed?" his mother yelled from the kitchen.

Clark poked his dick again and sighed.

"Yeah, mom, I'll be down in a minute," he called. To his penis he said, "We'll discuss this later." He sped around his room grabbing clean boxers, socks and a tee-shirt from his dresser and jeans and a flannel from his closet. Clark had just finished tugging things on as he arrived at the bottom of the steps. His mom was just about to climb them.

"It's about time, Clark Kent. What were you doing up there, contemplating your navel?"

Clark simply blushed.

Clark spent the day focusing as hard as he possibly could on anything school related. He avoided conversations with Pete since they inevitably turned towards girls. He stayed away from Chloe who made him think about Lana and away from Lana, whose presence made him think about sex. Like that time when Lana was infected by the Nicodemus and stripped to her red, lacy underwear and then--

"Hey, Clark, that's a pretty bright grin you've got there," Chloe interrupted his thoughts. "Thinking about Lana?" She glanced boldly down at his crotch and smirked. "Hm, no, it appears you're not. See you later, Clark!" she called as she ran off towards her next class.

Clark flushed red and frowned after her. He ducked into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face as he wondered at that cruel joke of the cosmos where he could blush as bright as a beacon, but couldn't sink through the floor when necessary. And how much he hated Chloe sometimes.

That afternoon as Clark and his father mended the western fence, Clark decided to just come out and tell his dad what was going on. He took a deep breath.

"Dad," he queried, "Do you ever have, you know, um..."

"Son?" Jonathan stopped his work to face Clark.

"It's... I..." Clark was turning as red as a sunset. "Uh..." He flailed his hands helplessly.

"Clark, son, you can talk to me about anything." Jonathan braced a hand on Clark's shoulder. "What's going on? Is it Lana? Is Chloe upsetting you again? What is it?"

"It's... I..." Clark cleared his throat and started at the ground. "I... Maybe it's an alien thing, because, um, we don't really know anything about my development, but um..."

"Clark," Jonathan said sharply. "Come on, we've faced x-ray vision, heat vision and floating in your sleep. How bad could this possibly be?"

"I can't... you know." He scuffed his boot in the dirt.

"You can't what, son?" Jonathan lifted Clark's face to his. "Clark, you can tell me anything."

"I... God." Clark wrenched his face away. "I can't..." he said to the sunset. "It... Three days. It's... It's been three days, Dad, of, like, nothing." Clark motioned at his crotch. "Nothing." His voice started shaking as he looked at his shoes. "I don't know what's going on, but Lana... It's... I think maybe it's broken... or I don't know. It's not working." Clark looked at his father plaintively.

"It's not... Oh!" Jonathan's eyes widened in comprehension. "Clark, you know, it happens to lots of men. You shouldn't try to make a mountain out of a molehill. Sometimes, all it is is a molehill."

Clark scoffed. "Oh, great, thanks a lot, Dad. Now I feel a whole lot better. I've got a molehill. Fantastic." He drove a final fence post into the ground and stormed towards the house.

"Clark!" Jonathan yelled after him. He sighed, "God damn it," and went back to work on the fence.

Later that evening, Jonathan and Martha relaxed in their living room, Martha in an armchair and Jonathan lounged along the couch.

"Jonathan," Martha began, looking up from her book. "Do you know what's going on with Clark today? He was even later than usual this morning."

"Didn't finish his chores either," Jonathan added from behind the newspaper. "He and I spoke earlier. I said something that upset him, but I know what's going on."

Martha sat forward looking at her husband expectantly. "Is everything okay with him?"

"It's simply a guy thing. He'll be fine soon, I'm sure."

"A... guy thing?" Martha paused remembering when Clark got his heat vision. And she flushed. Then she returned to her novel.

Jonathan chuckled and went back to reading the paper.

The next morning Clark woke from a dream with a very impressive hard-on. Yes! he thought, Finally! He grabbed an old, red sock and got down to business.

Vaguely remembering warm smooth skin, Clark took his cock in his hand and imagined Lana's pink lips tracing over his-- His dick promptly flopped.

"NO!" he cried out smashing his pillow onto his face and kicking his legs. "No! Nonononono! No! Why won't you just work?" he whined. Clark fell back in exhausted defeat.

"'It happens to lots of guys,'" he muttered into his pillow. "Yeah, well, it doesn't happen to 16-year-old guys. I bet it doesn't happen to Pete. I bet it never happened to Lex."

Clark's dick twitched under the blanket.

Clark lifted the sheet and looked down at his cock with a raised eyebrow. "Lex?" he asked it.

It twitched again.

Clark smiled. "Ah, so you're not broken. You're just gay." And with relief, Clark Kent took his dick in his hand and began stroking-- "Wait, you're gay? How can you be gay? I'm not gay."

Confused, Clark got out of bed to get ready for school.

Sitting in geometry, Clark contemplated his penis and the possibility of whether or not all of him was gay, and not just his dick. He tapped his pencil against his notebook as he thought.

• Fact: Clark had never thought about any girls sexually except for Lana.
• Fact: his dick found Lana supremely uninteresting.
• Fact: Clark enjoyed his time with Lex more than his time with any of the girls he knew. In fact, he spent an inordinate amount of time with Lex considering they had nearly nothing in common and Lex was six years his senior.
• Fact: Lex flirted with Clark and Clark flirted back. And Clark never flirted--never flirted--with any girls.

Clark chewed on the end of his pencil. Well, there was the whole school ring fiasco, he thought, but he was really horny, and Jessie was really easy, so he didn't know if that counted. And in retrospect, he couldn't get it up then either.

Hm... You know, with all the weird stuff I do, Clark thought, being gay is really the least of it. Besides, Lex has a nice ass. Clark smiled and returned his attention to geometry.

The following morning in the shower, Clark decided to give masturbation another try. But this time, instead of Lana, it was Lex's body pressed against his, Lex's warm hand on his cock. Clark's eyes glazed over and a slack smile crossed his face. Oh, he was gay alright, Clark realized as he pictured Lex's wet mouth on his neck, Lex's slender fingers pinching his nipples.

He tightened his fist and twisted his stroke as he groaned quietly. Lex's hot mouth working its way down his chest nibbling a nipple, licking a fat, wet stripe down his stomach, finally engulfing his throbbing--

"Clark! Did you drown? You're going to miss the bus again!" his mother yelled as she rapped sharply on the door.

"Just a sec," Clark gasped out to his mother. No, Lex, he thought, don't leave now... Don't stop...

"Clark, now! And if you don't get moving I'm going to come in there and drag you out by your ear."

Clark blanched as his dick drooped. Thanks a lot, Mom, Clark thought. He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower.

That day in school Clark thought about the practicality of jumping Lex's bones. On one hand, it would be a lot of fun. On the other, he was pretty sure Lex wanted him. No, wait, that's the same hand, Clark thought. He went over his list from the day before, and he decided. Lex was going down. Going to go down. On him. Clark smiled.

But by that afternoon, Clark had gotten nervous. Did Lex mean to flirt with Clark? What if Clark misread him? And even if he hadn't misinterpreted Lex's signals, Lex flirted with everything, like pool cues and epees and even bottles of water. Yeah, there were rumors about Lex, but even if the tabloids were right, that didn't mean Lex would want to be the object of a sex-starved 16-year-old boy's fantasies. Lex had experience. Clark had some clumsy kisses with girls who tended to not know what they were doing when they came on to him.

Plus, Clark had only just accepted he was gay that morning. "Hi, I'm Here and I'm Queer" was probably printed across his forehead, followed closely by "And, Lex, I Think I Might Want to Suck Your Cock. So, How Exactly Would I Go about Doing That?" Right. So Clark decided he would drop off Lex's produce and then get the hell out of Dodge before he had to face his friend.

So of course Lex was in the kitchen as Clark walked in with his delivery. Clark rolled his eyes at his luck.

"What's going on, Clark?" Lex asked.

But Clark didn't hear him. He was too startled by the fact that Lex wasn't wearing shoes. Lex always wore shoes. Clark gaped at Lex's bare feet.

"Clark? You okay?"

Lex's feet looked pale and so soft... Clark craned his neck to get a better look.

"Clark?"

Clark's head snapped up. Lex was right in front of him smirking. "Oh--" Clark squeaked. He stopped, cleared his throat and tried again. "Hi, Lex." Clark brushed his hair back from his eyes nervously and hoped there weren't any give-away words printed across his forehead. "Aren't your feet cold?"

Lex lifted an eyebrow at him. "Excuse me?"

"You," Clark pointed at Lex's feet. "You're not wearing any shoes."

Lex lifted one of his feet for his own inspection. "Well, what do you know, I'm not." He wiggled his toes at Clark. "Does this really throw off your equilibrium that much, Clark?" Lex asked as he returned his foot to the floor.

"I've just never seen your feet nak-- er, bare before, Lex." Clark shrugged.

"Naked, Clark?" Lex smirked and started out of the kitchen.

Clark's dick twitched.

"Later," he hissed at it.

"Pool?" Lex called to Clark from the hallway.

"Uh, yeah, sure," Clark said. He put down his crate of produce and trotted after him.

After their game, which Lex won since Clark was still thrown off by the idea of barefoot Lex, they relaxed on the couch in Lex's office. Clark sipped from a bottle of water. Lex held his in his lap.

"So," Clark said nodding at Lex.

"So," Lex repeated taking a sip.

Clark looked at his water bottle and tapped his foot on the floor.

"Something on your mind, Clark?" Lex raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

Clark stroked the neck of his water bottle. The cool wet glide felt good to his fingers and he started recalling more of his dream: hairless, pale, pale skin, hard muscles--

"Clark?"

Clark looked up suddenly. Lex was looking at him expectantly. Clark tried to gather his thoughts. "Yeah, there is something. This morning, I um..." He took a sip from his water. "This morning something happened, and I..."

Lex sat forward.

Clark took a deep breath and met Lex's eyes. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course, what's on your mind?" Lex put a hand on Clark's knee.

Clark's dick perked up, pushing Clark to venture onward. "You see, for the last four days I've been, well..." Clark paused and ran his hand along the bottle again. "Do you like me?" Clark looked at Lex in anticipation.

Lex pulled his hand from Clark's knee. "Of course I like you, Clark. We're friends."

Clark shook his head and tried again. "No, I mean like me like me. Like more than friends, because this morning I." Clark thumbed his bottle determinedly. "I. Um. This morning I realized. Well. This morning I." He took a deep breath. "I'mgayandIthinkIlikeyoutoo," Clark blurted. He looked up at Lex through his eyelashes.

Lex ran his arm along the back of the couch and leaned his head on it while his eyes searched Clark's face. Slowly, his lips turned into a wobbly smile. "Yes, Clark. I like you like you."

Clark barely heard Lex's words, as his dick was busily pulling him closer to Lex. Lex looked damned good lazed like that, and Clark and his penis had every intention of showing him exactly how good. He leapt into Lex's lap and kissed Lex hungrily. And bumped Lex's nose hard with his own.

"Ow, Clark, careful," Lex said, pulling his head back.

"Sorry," Clark mumbled leaning in and bumping Lex's nose again.

"Clark, wait." Lex grabbed the sides of Clark's head and held him still. "Here, let me." He leaned forward and took Clark's full lips with his own, nibbling lightly, sucking gently, then ran his tongue along Clark's teeth.

Clark opened his mouth and sighed contentedly, inviting Lex's tongue in at first, stroking his own tongue along it gathering Lex's flavor--he tasted like tea, so good. Clark wanted more. He smacked Lex's tongue into submission before cramming both tongues back in Lex's mouth and stabbing at Lex's throat.

Lex yanked his head away. "Clark! Gently. We're not mining for ore, we're tasting each other." He stroked Clark's face softly.

Clark shrugged and pouted. "I just like how you taste, Lex."

Lex smiled. "I like how you taste too, Clark. Like lemonade." He moved back in towards Clark and resumed kissing.

Clark sucked Lex's bottom lip into his mouth and massaged it with his tongue before capturing his upper lip and doing the same, feeling the texture of Lex's lips, soft and pliant. Warm.

Lex moaned into Clark's mouth.

Oh, God! thought Clark. I'm doing this to Lex! And he nipped enthusiastically at Lex's pink lips.

"Yeow! Clark!" Lex jerked his head back again and touched the sore spot on his bottom lip. "Careful. I'm not into drawing blood, no matter what the tabloids may say."

"Sorry." But Clark looked unrepentant. He took Lex's finger and flicked his tongue lightly over the small smear of blood.

"Clark, fuck." His eyes darkened, and he ran his fingers through Clark's hair.

Clark let his head be drawn back by the soothing caressing of Lex's fingers, still holding Lex's other hand in his own. When his face was guided to Lex's again, he kissed him slowly and deeply. "I want more, Lex," he breathed and pressed Lex's hand against his hard, hot cock.

"God, Clark," Lex sighed tightening his grip on Clark's erection before going for the hems of Clark's shirts and dragging them over Clark's head.

"More, Lex," Clark panted, eyes bright and hair mussed as he pulled Lex's shirt from his slacks and started clawing at the front of Lex's shirt, sending buttons skittering across the room.

"Clark?" Lex asked, surprised.

"Shut up. 'M busy," Clark mumbled as he tore open Lex's cuffs and tossed the shirt behind them.

"Clark, look, I'm not going to say that having my clothing ripped from my body isn't hot, but--"

Clark looked at him incredulously. "You talk too much. Shut up." And Clark bumped Lex's nose again. Lex rolled his eyes, grabbed Clark's face and kissed him back.

"More, yes!" Clark gasped. He grabbed Lex and hauled him to his feet, then scrabbled at the button and zipper on Lex's pants tearing it irreparably from the fabric. Clark sighed happily as he grasped Lex's hips pulling him against his body and ducking his head to lick and nibble on Lex's neck.

He felt Lex work a hand between their bodies to open the zipper of Clark's jeans. "Don't wanna move away from you," Clark mumbled into Lex's skin.

"Don't want you to move away from me. Just want to take off your jeans. Feel you better." Lex's hot breath slipped through Clark's hair.

"Oh, okay," Clark said brightly, pulling away. He kicked off his shoes and slowly peeled off his jeans to reveal pale pink boxers.

"Shit, Clark, just how gay are you?" Lex teased.

Clark yanked his pants back up and looked away, flushing.

"Clark, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just, you didn't expect bare feet, and I didn't expect pink underwear."

Clark crossed his arms over his chest. "It was laundry day," he muttered annoyed. "And I accidentally tossed a red sock in the wash."

"Clark, come on, I'm sorry." Lex said, and Clark let him peel his arms from his chest to wrap them around Lex's body "Now where were we?" Lex breathed as he bit at Clark's throat.

"Lex," Clark sighed as he felt Lex smile into his neck and then suck at his Adam's apple. "Lex, I--"

Lex skated his fingers lightly up and down Clark's erection, and Clark's breath hitched. "I'm gonna take care of you." Lex moved and spoke low in Clark's ear.

Clark gasped, shimmied his jeans back down and kicked them off so Lex could work Clark's cock from the confines of his boxers.

"What do you want, Clark?" Lex breath tickled warm across Clark's cheek. "Do you want my mouth?" He nipped at Clark's jaw.

Clark moaned.

"I can give you my mouth, Clark," said Lex sliding slowly down Clark's body until he was on his knees.

"Ohgod, Lex, I-- Lex!" Clark shuddered and shouted as he shot his release. Right onto Lex's face.

"Uh, Clark?" Lex asked from the vicinity of Clark's crotch.

Clark dropped to his knees and licked his come off Lex's face. "Guh. Huh unngh," he replied.

"Uh, yeah," Lex said, twisting away from the licking. "So, Clark..."

Clark pulled back and grinned at Lex. "I wanna do this again tomorrow, Lex. Can we do this again tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I--"

"Thanks, Lex, you're amazing!" Clark stood and tucked himself back in then grabbed his clothes and pulled them back on. "I've got chores and homework, but I'll see you tomorrow!" Clark called as he zipped out of the house.

"But what about..." Lex trailed off as he realized he was speaking to an empty room.

Lex sighed and stood up. Then he adjusted himself. And then he fixed himself a drink and gathered up his tattered clothes before stalking off towards his sock drawer.

As Jonathan and Martha Kent relaxed in their living room, deep into their evening ritual of reading the paper (Jonathan) and a novel (Martha), there was a gust of wind through the house. The back door slammed shut, and they barely caught the blur of color shooting up the stairs.

"Jonathan?" Martha asked, looking the direction her son had gone.

Jonathan shrugged. "Who knows, Martha." He shook a wrinkle out of his paper and returned to reading.

Upstairs in his room, Clark gasped for breath. Oh. My. God. He thought. Omigod. Lex was going to. Wow. He almost. Wow. Just. We. Wow.

There was no way Clark could dim the smile splitting his face. He didn't want to anyway. Instead he opened his jeans and curled his fingers around his dick, and remembering his afternoon, Clark threw his head back and jacked off like there was no tomorrow.