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, June 2003.

Author's notes - Written for the Contre la Montre complementary colours challenge in 85 minutes. Spoilers for Exodus.



Clark hadn't been entirely sure of his welcome when he arrived at the hospital in Metropolis that Lex had been transferred to after his rescue from the wreckage of the crashed plane. When he finally walked up to the desk and enquired about Lex he discovered that his name was included on the list of visitors permitted to see Mr. Luthor. And when he actually worked up the courage to walk into Lex's room a tired but genuine smile had greeted him.

That had been several days ago. Now Lex was safely back at the mansion and Clark was staying there with him. Ostensibly it was to make sure that neither Lionel or Helen came back to try and finish what they'd started with the drugged champagne and sabotaged plane. In truth, it was as much because the atmosphere at home was unbearably strained.

His mother looked like a pale ghost of herself, haunting the farm's kitchen, and his father still wouldn't look him in the eye. Clark felt guilty enough about what had happened to the baby without seeing the silent reproach on his parents' faces every time he walked into the room.

All in all, it was easier to be around Lex. His gaze didn't ask questions Clark had no idea how to answer and he seemed perfectly comfortable in Clark's presence. There was an effortless ease between them that Clark hadn't realised he'd missed quite so much.

It was there in the way their eyes met and held for long moments. It was in the brief touches that started out casual and slowly turned into something with a deeper meaning entirely. It was in the oddly soft tone of Lex's voice when he stopped at his bedroom door, asking Clark not to leave him alone and it was in the gentle kiss that Clark brushed across Lex's lips in reply.

In the pale light of early dawn Clark lay in Lex's wide bed and watched him sleep. They were both naked, although they'd done little more than trade kisses and careful, exploratory caresses the night before. Clark hoped that Lex would want more than that when he woke up.

The light sheet was draped across Lex's hips, leaving his chest and arms bare to Clark's gaze. Seeing him like this it was clear just how lucky Lex had been to survive the crash. He bore too many marks that hinted at deeper injuries, but somehow good fortune had smiled on him again and they had all turned out to be superficial.

In the hospital the tracery of bruises had been a deep, unbroken black, stark against Lex's pale skin. Now the edges of the discoloration were feathering into more subtle hues of indigo and violet. Elsewhere, Clark knew the results of less serious blows were already fading into a greenish yellow that he suspected would be gone altogether before the day was out.

Clark had seen evidence of how quickly Lex tended to heal before this, but he still seemed too fragile by the standards of his own invulnerable body. It worried him just how easily he might have lost Lex forever.

The visible signs of Lex's injuries drew Clark. He wanted to soothe them, to erase them altogether. Lex's wife and his father were responsible for those marks, a glaring reminder of their betrayal that Clark ached to remove. His hand reached out, fingers hovering over the smooth planes of Lex's chest without quite touching. He didn't want to wake Lex, but he needed the contact, needed to reassure himself that Lex was whole and alive.

After a moment's hesitation, Clark leaned across, bracing himself over Lex's body. Then he lowered his head, brushing the softest of kisses onto the warm skin. His lips traced the network of bruises gently, starting at the wide shoulders and slowly moving down Lex's chest and stomach until the sheet blocked his path.

A change in Lex's breathing made Clark look up and he found himself staring into heavy-lidded eyes. Lex was clearly still half asleep, but the lazy blue gaze was encouraging.

Leaning down again, Clark pressed his lips to one of the darkest bruises that still blossomed indigo across Lex's chest, surrounding his right nipple. He kissed every inch of the darkened skin and then let his tongue steal out to cool the heated flesh with broad, wet strokes. When he lapped at the taut nipple Lex's stoic silence gave way to a helpless moan.

Clark felt strong fingers thread into his hair, urging him downward. Taking his time, Clark let his tongue paint a moist trail across Lex's stomach, pausing to circle his navel before dipping inside it with stabbing thrusts until Lex moaned again. Sliding further down the bed, this time Clark dragged the concealing sheet away.

More bruises decorated Lex's hips with splashes of yellow and violet, but Clark barely paid them any attention. His eyes were focused on Lex's cock, as smooth and hard as the rest of his body. Clark's fingers ghosted along its length until Lex began to beg incoherently for more. Then he wrapped his hand around it, stroking firmly until pre-come leaked from the tip. Lex's voice sounded broken and desperate now and all that Clark could decipher was his own name amidst the breathless moans. Bending even closer, Clark slid his lips over the swollen head, tasting salt and musk as his tongue glided over the taut skin.

Lex's hips jerked up off of the bed, forcing his cock deeper into Clark's mouth. Clark swallowed, an automatic reflex, and managed not to gag as he took Lex into his throat. Between them they found a rhythm that worked and Clark braced himself, letting Lex fuck his mouth. The fingers in his hair clenched spasmodically and Clark slid a hand back up Lex's body, soothing and calming him as Lex finally let go of his carefully maintained control.

A few more hard thrusts and Lex was coming, the slightly bitter fluid flooding Clark's mouth as he swallowed around Lex's pulsing cock. He kept on suckling gently until it softened in his mouth and Lex pulled him away, groaning quietly as his skin became too sensitive to bear the continued touches.

Clark let himself be tugged back up the bed, the tight grip on his hair only being released when he was once again lying at Lex's side. They were pressed much closer together now, one of Lex's arms thrown around his waist, holding him in place. Not that Clark wanted to be anywhere else, but apparently Lex hadn't figured that out yet.

His fingers slowly stroked down the length of Lex's arm to his wrist, the smooth softness of the skin somehow reassuring. No words were necessary, their closeness said everything.

A moment later Lex shifted slightly, tucking his head into the curve of Clark's neck so that he could feel Lex's breath warm against his throat. Its steady cadence was soothing and Clark soon fell asleep, lulled by the insubstantial caress.


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