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 - This was written for Rhiannonhero's Summer Fun Title Challenge. With thanks to Oxoniensis, Sinisterf and MistressAce for stepping into the breach and betaing. Special thanks to Oxoniensis for the geographical prompting!



Clark isn't sure that he's ever seen Lex quite this relaxed in public before. His habitual air of keeping everyone at a distance is absent and Clark doesn't think he's heard Lex laugh this much in all the time that he's known him. It seems to have been good for him, getting out of Smallville, out of Kansas, out of the country altogether. Ostensibly, the European trip was Lex's graduation gift to him, but, truthfully, Clark thinks Lex needed this vacation more than he does.

They've been staying in a variety of towns around the Italian lakes for the past two weeks. Some, like Stresa and Como, were old and quaint, full of enough culture and history to fuel hours of Lex's impromptu lectures. Others, such as Locarno, were more vibrant and cosmopolitan, the kind of places that Europe's beautiful people visit to see and be seen. Lex has seemed equally at home in both while Clark has felt like a gauche tourist, away from home on his own for the first time.

Riva combines something of both. It's a picturesque old town, redolent with charm and antiquity, but the lakeside promenade is lively, bright with displays of scarlet geraniums and lined with a wide variety of shops and cafes.

At the moment they're sitting at a table outside one of the cafes, enjoying the lazy heat of mid-afternoon. The smell of freshly brewed coffee almost overwhelms the scent of the flowers that drifts on the faint breeze off the lake. There's a large awning shading them from the intense glare of the sun and Lex has set aside the stylish panama he's been wearing to prevent his sensitive scalp from burning. He has acquired something of a tan since the start of the trip, though, and the pale shirt and linen pants he's wearing set off the healthy colour of his skin to perfection.

The waiter returns to their table, interrupting Clark's visual inspection of his companion. He sets down the large ice cream dessert that Clark ordered, together with Lex's espresso. He hovers attentively for a second before Lex sends him on his way with a few quick words in Italian that Clark assumes mean thank you or perhaps a request for the check.

Clark turns his attention back to the bowl of gelato in front of him. He's discovered that Italian ice cream isn't anything like the brands he's had back home and he's been trying as many varieties as he can. This has proven to be a source of much amusement for Lex, but Clark's been ignoring the indulgent smiles and pointed comments about the effects of all that excess sugar on his body.

At present, Lex is leaning back in his seat, casually sipping his hot, strong coffee. His eyelids are at half-mast, but Clark can see the sharp blue glitter of his eyes through the pale lashes. His gaze is firmly fixed on Clark, watching as he digs his spoon into the bowl of ice cream.

It's already starting to melt in the heat and Clark can't help the way that some of the generous spoonful he's scooped up smears his mouth. It's a purely instinctive reaction for him to slip his tongue out, slicking it over his lips to retrieve the excess.

Lex is sitting up straighter in his chair now, his coffee cup set back down, still half full.

Clark slowly swirls his spoon around the ice cream before bringing it up to his mouth again. A little of the gelatinous mass drips off the spoon and onto his chin. He smiles apologetically at Lex as he wipes off the spill with his fingertip. Then he sticks the finger into his mouth, licking it clean.

There's an almost pained expression on Lex's face as he grabs his cup and drinks the rest of the coffee in a single gulp. He puts the empty cup down with more force than is strictly necessary, rattling the silverware lying by his saucer.

Locking eyes with him, Clark sucks another half-melted spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. He drags the spoon back between his lips very slowly, licking every last trace off of it with great relish.

Before he can eat any more, Lex is leaning towards him. In a low, rough voice he hisses, "Clark, unless you want to get fucked on this table, right now, I suggest we leave."

Clark's brows rise and he meets Lex's gaze with deceptively innocent eyes. "But I haven't finished my ice cream."

Lex is already on his feet, pulling his wallet out of his pants pocket. The movement stretches the fine linen across his crotch, clearly outlining his swollen cock. He tosses a handful of euros onto the table before leaning down to whisper in Clark's ear.

"You are going to get fucked, Clark," he murmurs. "It's up to you where it happens, but I'm not in the mood to wait very long."

Clark almost calls Lex's bluff. He's pretty sure that Lex wouldn't really bend him over the table and fuck him in front of everyone. Then again, when Lex's eyes have that determined light in them, anything is possible. Clark's cheeks redden as he imagines everyone staring at them. The heat of Lex's breath on the back of his neck only adds more fuel to the fantasy. Feeling his own cock stiffening, Clark scrambles to his feet. He nearly knocks his chair over in his hurry to get out of the cafe.

"I hope room service has a good selection of ice cream," Lex says with a grin. He grabs hold of Clark's hand, lacing their fingers together as he pulls him down the cobbled street towards their hotel. "I have a sudden craving for a Clark sundae."


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