Oxygen.

Water.

Clark's skin against his, sweat-slick and fever-hot. Clark's eyes, wide and blue and looking ludicrously innocent even when Clark is doing that. Clark's mouth, and Lex's skin is afire as Clark kisses. Licks. Bites, experimentally, and then again when Lex gasps. White heat of that mouth on his cock. The world contracted to nothing except every place that Clark touches him.

Easy to throw pretty words around. Easy to lie, to pretend this is more than it is.

Need doesn't lie, and Lex needs. Simple things. Hands on skin. Taste of Clark in his mouth.

Oxygen.

Water.

Clark.