DISCLAIMER - Not mine, I couldn't afford the motor and household insurance bills. I promise I'll scrub them down and give them back to DC comics, the WB and anyone else who does own a slice of them when I'm done with them. Story, such as it is, copyright Karen Colohan, July 2003.
Author's notes - And here we come to the last of the ficlet requests. This one is for Sinisterf. The brief was pre-slash Clex playing pool to release some frustration with attendant phallic innuendo. This was written to the highly inspirational strains of Darren Hayes and 'Spin'.
Lex looked up, straightening from the pool table as he became aware that he was being watched. Clark was standing in the doorway, eyes on Lex as he set his cue down.
"Clark, I'm sorry. I didn't realise you were there." Lex smiled at him, silently inviting him in.
"Hey, Lex, I didn't want to interrupt your game." Clark moved into the room, crossing to join Lex by the table.
Lex's gaze followed the boy avidly as he approached and, when he realised what he was doing, Lex sighed inwardly. Clark really was too much of a temptation for his own good - one Lex was doing his best to resist. Though, when Clark's mouth stretched in a grin that was a veritable invitation to sin, it wasn't easy. There were times when doing the right thing was vastly overrated, Lex decided.
"You want to play?" Lex asked, nodding in the direction of the table. Anything to derail his previous train of thought.
It occurred to him what a bad move that had been when his brain promptly supplied images of exactly how he'd like to play with Clark, naked and spread across the red baize...
Lex gave himself a mental shake and focused on the fact that Clark had just replied in the affirmative.
Clark was already shedding his jacket and dropping his backpack onto the couch. Then he wandered across to select a cue.
As he racked the balls for a new game, Lex watched him out of the corner of his eye. Clark was slowly running his hands along the smooth grain of the cue he'd chosen. Then he reached for the cube of chalk, brushing it carefully over the tip. When he was happy with his preparation, Clark bent his head and pursed his lips before blowing off the excess chalk in a puff of blue dust.
Lex's good intentions almost came to a sticky end there and then. He wondered how the hell he was supposed to stand up and face Clark when his cock was damn near hard enough to shoot this game with. Taking a deep breath, Lex adjusted himself as best he could, using the table to hide what he was doing.
Eventually, he straightened a little stiffly and gestured for Clark to break. In the meantime, Lex moved to retrieve a fresh bottle of Ty Nant. He twisted the cap off and gulped at the ice cold liquid gratefully. Then he cursed himself for an idiot as he realised he now had a perfect view of Clark's denim clad ass as he bent to take his shot.
The sound of Lex's loud swallow was masked by the snick of Clark's cue hitting the ball. Lex tipped the bottle of water again, tilting his head back and letting a long draught of the cool water slip down his throat.
When his gaze finally slid back to Clark, Lex found himself the recipient of a wide-eyed green stare. As their eyes met, Clark looked as if he'd been caught red handed at something and Lex quirked one pale brow in question. Clark simply ducked his head and leaned down to line up his next shot.
It seemed to take him a long time to settle. There was also a great deal more shifting and wiggling of his hips - resulting in his jeans pulling tighter across the curve of his ass - involved than Lex was convinced was strictly necessary.
Considering the length of time he'd taken preparing for it, Clark's shot was a disaster, missing the pocket by a mile.
Lex regarded him speculatively, intrigued by a sudden notion. He walked up behind Clark, who was still bent over the table, apparently eyeing the results of his poor cueing.
"Looks like you had a problem with your angle there," Lex observed conversationally. "I think it may be your grip. It looks a little tight." He paused a moment before asking, "Do you want some coaching?"
Clark made a muffled choking sound that he hurriedly turned into a more discreet cough. He stood up slowly, spinning round until he and Lex were face to face.
Once he knew he had Clark's full attention, Lex lifted his bottle of Ty Nant again. He closed his mouth around it and tipped his head back as he swallowed deeply. When he was done drinking, Lex snaked his tongue out, sweeping it across his lips as he chased after stray drops of water. All the while, he held Clark's gaze, watching the pupils dilate in a way that was quite unmistakable.
"So, you think you're a good teacher?" Clark asked finally, his voice just a little rougher than usual.
Lex gave a slow smile.
"The best," he replied, without a trace of false modesty.
"Perfect," Clark said. He reached out and plucked the bottle from Lex's hand, setting it down on the pool table.
Before Lex could protest about the effect of condensation on the baize, Clark's cue had joined it. Then Lex found himself pressed close to a hot and very obviously aroused body.
Soft lips brushed against his own, warming them after the chill of the blue glass. At the same time, strong fingers trailed across the front of Lex's pants, stretching the fabric taut so that it outlined the hard length of his cock. An experimental stroke had him moaning softly, in spite of the layers separating him from the heat of Clark's hand.
Then Clark's breath was teasing his ear as he murmured," Now, about my grip, Lex, just how tight should it be...?"
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