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 - Written for the Contre la Montre metaphorical heat and cold challenge. It took me all of the 70 minutes allowed.

Warning - There are intimations of incestuous thoughts here, but nothing terribly overt.



Clark Kent is all about fire and passion. Even in the shadows of the barn his skin glows like a reflection of the sun, sweat gilding his muscles as he moves against you. There's an odd gleam in his eyes as he pounds into you and you never intended to be the one in this position. He's impossible to deflect, though, you've discovered and there's definitely more here than meets the eye.

Now, you understand why he intrigues Lex - and your father, for that matter - the way he does and you'd like to uncover a few of his hinted at secrets for yourself. You already know one of them. He gave that away with his proprietorial attitude towards Lex the very first time Lex took you to the Kent farm to show you off. It became even more apparent with the flare of jealousy that lit eyes already tinted green when you whispered in his ear about all the things you want to do to Lex.

He was on you in a second, just as you'd meant him to be and it was a natural progression then from anger to arousal. He may be easy to manipulate, once you know the right buttons to push, but that doesn't dim the pleasure you take in being blanketed by his broad, well muscled body.

As the brilliant sunburst of orgasm floods your senses you wonder if Lex has tasted this yet, or if the banked fires behind the looks they trade are due to passions as yet unfulfilled. Instinct tells you it's the latter, though that doesn't explain the farmboy's unexpected skill. Just another mystery about Clark that cries out to be solved. But, going with your gut, you're going to enjoy telling Lex exactly what he's been missing. You want to watch that perfect facade come apart and you think that Clark just might be the chink in Lex's armour that you've been looking for.

Above you, Clark's body flexes and thrusts one more time, flooding you with molten pleasure. This encounter might not have gone exactly as you planned it, but you have no complaints. Circumstances have taught you to be flexible. When Clark finally pulls out and lets you up you're feeling pretty good and you ache in just the right kind of way.

There's nothing else to be said so you both dress in silence. Then you leave. Now all you need is to be in the same room as Lex, while the scent of Clark is still strong on your skin. You plan to get past that rigid reserve and you think you know how to do it.


You knew it was only a matter of time before Lex sought you out and you're ready for him when he arrives. You haven't showered after your encounter with Clark and the residue of his sweat is mixed with your own on your bare chest as you work out on the new gym equipment. When you move you can feel the sticky traces of Clark's come leaking from your ass and you like the reminder of what he did to you. You wonder if Lex will find it as pleasing.

When he walks into your presence, Lex is the very image of control and self-possession. After the coup that Lionel engineered on your behalf that's really all he has left, but Lex carries his pride with the same casual aplomb that he wears one of his Armani suits.

It only increases your resolve to crack that seemingly impenetrable shell. No one can really be that smooth and unruffled the whole time and rumour has it that Lex has anger management issues. If that's the case, then Lex has hidden depths that you're itching to plumb. The fact that he's your brother only adds an extra frisson of excitement to the prospect.

Lex is like the moon to Clark's sun, his skin pale where Clark's is golden. He's leaner too, moving with an almost feline grace as he approaches you. When he faces you, there's steel behind the blue of his eyes. Lex is strong, you realise, he just possesses a different kind of strength. A glacier can wreak just as much destruction as a forest fire, it's just a matter of time and patience.

Something tells you that Lex is perfectly content to bide his time until the perfect moment to act arrives and you can't help but feel a spark of admiration for him. You're also still as determined to melt the hard shell that protects him, you want more than ever to uncover the core of vulnerability that your father assures you is there.

"I spent some time with Clark earlier," you tell him when he comes to a halt in front of you.

He raises one pale brow in surprise. It's clear Lex didn't expect that to be your opening gambit. "What did you want with him?"

A brief flash of your best shark's smile produces the barest flicker of concern in the depths of Lex's eyes.

"The same as you do, brother," you reply lazily.

"I don't want anything from Clark," he says quickly. "He's my friend."

"If you say so, Lex." You shoot him another smile. "Though I think Clark might be disappointed to hear you say that."

Lex's lips tighten before he says, "I don't know what this is about, Lucas, but I won't have you dragging Clark into this family's sick games."

His voice is harsh and the glare he sends you would freeze a lesser man where he stood. You're not easily intimidated, though.

"But, Lex," you point out, all reason, "you're the one who involved him when you ran to the Kents for shelter."

"Keep away from Clark, I'm warning you." Lex's expression is wintry, you've seen more warmth in the eyes of a dead man. It's time to twist the knife.

"Too late, Lex," you whisper, getting right up in his face. You feel him start to flinch away, then tense and hold his ground.

"What do you mean?" he asks, an edge to his words.

You can't help the smug look that crosses your face. "He was quite a revelation, your Clark, ripe and sweet... just waiting to be plucked." You lean deliberately closer. "I've had him, Lex. I think you were saving him, but I got there first."

The hand at your throat is a shock, as is the bleak look in the blue eyes that are just inches from your own.

"He's not a toy to be played with!" Lex hisses with such venom that you get an image of him coiled like a cobra, waiting to strike.

You tilt your head as much as his restraining grasp will allow, calculating just how far you dare to push him.

"Clark's not quite the innocent farm boy you think he is," you purr.

His eyes narrow, but the grip on your throat doesn't tighten any further. "What are you saying?"

"You think I fucked him?"

The dangerous glare Lex pins you with makes you hurry onward. You'd hoped to take your time with this, to peel his illusions away one by one, but if you value your safety that's not to be.

"Wrong, Lex... Clark fucked me. He held me down and pounded into me so hard my ass still aches." You shift your hips smoothly, rubbing against Lex like a cat. If he wants to avoid your touch he's going to have to let go of your throat. He doesn't.

"I don't believe you." It's a stark statement. Lex is so sure.

Your smile is slow and self-assured.

"You want proof?" You smooth a hand across your chest, smearing the traces of sweat. "I can still smell him on me, Lex. Come a little closer, I'm sure you'll recognise his scent. It's like flannel and hay and..."

His hand presses a little more, so your voice sounds rough when you continue. "And I can still feel his come leaking out of my ass. He rode me bareback, Lex, and it felt good."

There is an instant where you honestly fear for your life. You've never been the focus of such intense malice. For a second, you think you've finally done it, torn apart that steel clad control. There is a violent rage simmering in Lex's eyes and you can sense just how close it is to boiling over in an unstoppable burst.

But Lex is even stronger than you gave him credit for, it seems. You can see him pulling back, smothering the flames of anger. You can't quite control the shiver of relief that runs through you when he finally lets go, pushing you away like something he doesn't want to dirty his hands with.

"Keep away from the Kents," he warns and there's still a naked threat in his gaze.

Before you can respond, Lex turns and stalks out of the room.

Once he's gone, you lean against the smooth wood panelling at your back, slowly rubbing your bruised throat. You wonder what it is, exactly, that has Lex so protective of his territory where the Kents are concerned. You have a few ideas, but maybe Lionel knows more.


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