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, August 2003.

Author's notes - Yesterday Thamiris put out a call for Clex kissing and making out fic. A little late, but this is the idea that ambushed me in my lunch hour today. Not betaed, all mistakes are my own.



It's cool and dark here and there's the shock of cold stone connecting with his bare scalp when Lex throws his head back, moaning in pleasure. More of that coolness soaks through the thin fabric of his shirt and pants where he's leaning against the wall, trying to remain upright as his knees threaten to give way.

In contrast, the front of his body is all about heat. It's awash in the warmth of Clark who's pressed tightly against him while his mouth latches onto Lex's throat. He's sucking hard, undoubtedly leaving marks. That sensation is generating an even more intense heat that's focused in Lex's groin, getting hotter as his cock stiffens.

Lex can't help wondering exactly what led to this. The last time his brain was thinking clearly he was accompanying Clark down to the garage to show off the latest addition to his collection of sleek, expensive cars. They never made it that far, but Lex still has no idea what prompted them to stop in the darkened corridor leading from the house.

Nor does he know whose hands reached out first, trespassing on unexpectedly eager flesh. At this point, Lex doesn't think he cares about the whys and wherefores overmuch. He's too caught up in the reality of the contact. The soft warmth of Clark's lips on him brands him far more deeply than is apparent simply from the appearance of bruises on his skin. Not that Lex won't wear those marks with pride; it feels good to know that Clark wants him enough to make a claim that's so visible.

Breathing hard, Lex becomes aware of green eyes watching him intently. The steady regard seems to raise as much heat as the touch of Clark's mouth did and Lex finds himself looking away for a second, trying to find his equilibrium. Almost at once there's a careful caress tracing across his cheek, Clark's fingers, urging his attention back to the boy's face. He lets himself be guided until their gazes lock again.

"It's all right, Lex," Clark whispers, seeming to recognise the dizzy uncertainty that's taken up residence in his body with ease. "I have you. I won't let you fall."

It isn't true, though, because Lex is falling. He's drowning in pools of hazy green and he seems to have forgotten how to breathe. But it's all so familiar that he isn't afraid. Instead, the feeling is welcome and Lex hopes that he'll find his wings again, because the memories he has of flying may be the closest to perfection that he's experienced in his life.

Then Clark moves to keep his promise, leaning in to touch his mouth gently to Lex's. They're sharing breath, just like before, but this time Lex can feel everything first hand and, all at once, he knows that he needs to redefine his concept of perfect. That's what this is as the wet heat of Clark's lips and tongue take possession of him, feeding him the sweet taste of Clark's mouth.

Lex's eyes drift shut then. He knows he's safe. His feet may be firmly planted on the solid stone floor, but Lex is flying over Smallville once more.


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