Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. Just borrowing them a little and guiding them with my imagination in order to create a fun little story for a few of my close and dear friends.

Many thanks to my chat pals, Cpher42 and MiCrazy2, for the wicked inspiration for this. Now that it is done, I can go back to writing my serious story!

Later, when Clark recalled the evening's events in his mind, he blamed it on the heat. Kansas heat, the way it can only exist in the flat mid-section of Kansas. Hot, dry, and dusty, with the barest hint of anticipation of something dangerous hanging in the air.

Usually, the danger involved the often too-real threat of storms and/or tornadoes. Gully-washers and cyclones that would signal the end of the heat wave and bring respite to the parched prairie land would have been almost welcome. But there was no threat of storms in the forecast that day. It was something else, a much more subtle sense of something looming just around the corner.

As he had lounged in the casual surroundings of his loft retreat in the family barn, keeping company with his friends, drinking Mom's lemonade even after all the ice cubes had melted, Clark was sure he wasn't the only one who felt it. His friends seemed to have a distinct edginess about them that evening too. It was almost as if the heat was melting their usual repartee into something more daring, bolder, and riskier than ever before. The barn loft felt like a huge cauldron, slowly stirring together all the heat, sweat, exposed skin, and teenaged hormones, and bringing them to a boil.

He couldn't really remember how it started. It might have been when Pete cursed the weather in more colorful language than he usually used in front of Lana and Chloe, and Lana scolded him.

"Oh. Right. Mustn't offend those virgin ears," Pete had complained good-naturedly. Really. It wasn't like Lana had never heard words like that before. The late Whitney Fordman had been the king of foul language back in his quarterback days.

But then Chloe had gotten this perversely wicked grin on her face and snorted ungracefully, not trying very hard to cover a laugh as she half-choked on her lemonade.

And then, and then... Lana had shot Chloe the most bug-eyed "shut-the-hell-up" look that any of them had ever seen. And then it was time for Clark and Pete to choke on their lemonades as they followed the unspoken conversation between the girls.

Well... So. There you have it folks. Lana was not a virgin.

And somehow, despite knowing that freshman Lana had been heavily involved with the star quarterback on the varsity football team, a senior, for over a year...somehow Clark had been surprised by the revelation. He felt a little bit like his weird little alien world just got tilted off its axis.

When Chloe realized she had spilled the beans, betraying what obviously had been a confidence between the two girls, her heat-reddened cheeks got even hotter and redder, and she tried to apologize in stutters and stammers, belatedly realizing that the more she tried, the deeper she was digging herself in.

Lana looked pretty darn stern for the whole of maybe thirty seconds, and then she just shrugged and rolled her eyes with a grin, and gracefully let Chloe off the hook. "Oh, it's okay, Chloe," she sighed, and glanced at them all in turn. "I guess we're all friends here. And it's not like I'm the only non-virgin in the bunch."

Touche.

Clark already knew that Pete wasn't. He had confided to Clark some of his adventures with Erika a while back. And Clark wasn't too shocked about Lana's implication that Chloe wasn't a virgin either; she'd had that mysterious boyfriend last summer when she was interning in Metropolis-and Chloe was usually a girl who wouldn't be shy about getting what she wanted. But he felt his cheeks flush hot when he thought about his own predicament.

It wasn't like he hadn't had his chances: there had been that time with Lana in her underthings at the school swimming pool, but he wouldn't take advantage of the girl while she wasn't herself; and there had been Chloe when she'd had that squiggly worm-parasite thing in her neck, but Pete's red meteor rock 'gift' had slipped from his pocket in the nick of time before he and Chloe had made a highly illegal and embarrassing display of themselves at the Talon; he'd gotten almost to third base with Kyla, but then the desire had fizzled when he began to realize that she was keeping something from him; and there had been Desiree, who was exquisitely, pheromonally desirable, and who'd made her intentions completely clear...but who was also Mrs. Luthor at the time, and Clark couldn't have done that to Lex. There was Jesse, who so very, very nearly became Clark's first...if Clark hadn't reacted in such a typcially teenaged fashion and jumped the gun, so to speak, humiliating himself and disappointing them both. And then there was Lex; but no matter how often they flirted, no matter how many times they sparred with double entendre, and no matter how many furtive looks of secret longing they exchanged, neither of them had ever had the nerve to take it any further.

Apparently Clark was the only virgin left in the group, and yet his friends all seemed to think otherwise, and he was too embarrassed to protest. He couldn't quite decide which was more shameful-to admit the truth when all his friends were flattering him by assuming he was much more debonair and experienced than he really was; or to stay silent, and let them go on believing it. He didn't know if he could live with yet another lie; but he wasn't quite ready to admit the truth either. In this, Lana was proving to be the braver soul.

He'd become so involved in his own thoughts that he'd missed the next few beats of conversation-something about some of the kids at school who made no secret of what they did on Saturday nights at the lake-and Clark only re-established his attention when Lana spoke again.

"Girls have all the same sexual wants and needs that boys do. It's just that society makes it scarier for us to say what we really want."

"That's not entirely true, Lana," Clark piped up, painfully earnest, unable to let this opportunity slip by. "Sometimes it's just as scary for guys to say what they want."

Pete sighed heavily as Clark and Lana exchanged a pointed look. Again. He was clearly tired of the ongoing relationship-jousting between his two friends. Clark knew that Pete just wished they would hurry up and either get on with it or just forget it. Pete swirled the last of his lemonade in his glass, then he leaned back and grinned mischievously at Lana, unable to hide an expectant smirk. "So what do you really want, Lana?"

Clark hoped the bug-eyed "shut-the-hell-up" look he shot Pete was at least slightly less obvious than the one Lana had given Chloe earlier. He didn't want Pete to put her on the spot and force her to confess what she wanted from Clark. Or what she didn't want. He wasn't at all sure he was ready to hear the truth, whichever way she felt.

But Pete ignored him, willfully pressing the question again. "Come on, Lana. We're all friends, right? What is it you want that's too scary to say?"

Chloe's elbow struck in Pete's side. Maybe she didn't want to know what Lana wanted either. "She probably wants you to stop leering at her, you perv!"

Lana sighed, not looking particularly embarrassed. "I don't know, Pete. I've got fantasies just like everybody else. Like right now, I'll bet every one of us is fantasizing about skinny-dipping in the swimming pool at school."

As Lana's statement was greeted by emphatic good-natured agreement, Clark heard a noise on the stair and looked to see Lex coming up the steps, in a full tailored business suit, with a fresh pitcher of lemonade in hand, looking as self-satisfied as a canary-eating cat.

"It sounds like I dropped by in the middle of a good discussion," he smirked as he set the pitcher next to the empty one on the serving tray. Clark was relieved that his Mom had given the lemonade to Lex to bring up to them instead of coming up on her own. This didn't seem like a conversation he wanted his Mom to overhear. The idea kind of quelled the enthusiasm he had felt in his groin at the idea of skinny-dipping at school with his friends.

Embarrassed at their chat being overheard, even by Lex, Clark half-rose from his seat on a hay bale and stammered, "L-Lex! I thought you, um, that you were supposed to be in, uh, Metropolis all day!"

"All day, Clark. In case you hadn't noticed, day's over and it's dark now," Lex teased as he shed his jacket, loosened his necktie, and removed his cufflinks so he could roll up his sleeves. "I saw the light on up here on my way home and I thought I'd stop. Haven't had a single bit of friendly company all day." Lex sat on the arm of the battered sofa next to Chloe . "Okay if I join you for a while?"

"Sure Lex," Clark answered with a smile he hoped wasn't too broad. He realized that he didn't have an extra glass to offer Lex any lemonade, so he quickly finished his own, poured some fresh from the pitcher, and offered it to Lex. "Um, guess we can share, huh? Unless you feel like going back down to get-"

Lex accepted the glass without hesitation. "This is fine, Clark, thanks," he assured him.

And then Clark thought he saw Lex do a funny thing. Before he actually sipped from the glass, it looked like his tongue darted out, just a little, and that he kind of licked the rim of the glass first, right on the mark left from Clark's lips. It looked...odd...but a very sensual kind of odd. The stirring in his groin suddenly returned.

Clark glanced around to make sure none of his friends had noticed him staring at Lex. Apparently the only one who had noticed was Lex himself, who gave Clark a sly little sideways grin as he drank another sip, and Clark felt his cheeks redden.

"You know, Lana," Lex said as if nothing had just happened. "I would be perfectly willing to help you with that fantasy if you would like to use my pool instead of the school's. Or does your fantasy exclusively require the use of the school's pool?"

Clark shifted slightly, trying to hide the fact that every red corpuscle he owned had just raced to his cock. Wow. That could be so great. Skinny-dipping in Lex's pool-no fear of getting caught by Principal Reynolds; and he would get to see Lana naked...and he would get to see Chloe-Chloe had the most beautiful breasts, barely hidden as they were now under her thin knit top with the spaghetti straps...and he would get to show off a little himself, let the girls see that the cliche about big feet had some basis in fact as far as he was concerned...and...and...he might even get to see Lex-he'd always wondered if Lex was bald...even there.

"Although my heart isn't set on the pool at school, I'm not sure we're ready for the Luthor pool," Lana said, smirking at Lex as if there was some dirty little secret they shared.

"You wouldn't have to swim, Lana. I know how you just like to watch," Lex offered with a genuine leer.

Shocked that Lex would talk like that to Lana, Clark felt like the gentleman in him should come to her rescue, but his cock had other ideas, forcing him to stay quiet lest he draw too much attention to himself and his predicament. This taunting between Lex and Lana was...interesting. And highly arousing.

And as it turned out, Lana didn't need anyone to come to her defense. "That would probably work out great for you, Lex," she replied, "since you seem to like to be watched."

Whoa, Clark thought, with conflicting feelings of arousal and jealousy. What the--

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute!" Chloe broke in, laughing and waving her hands in the air. "You wanna let me in on what you're talking about? You guys are making me hot and I don't even know what's going on!"

Clark felt like Chloe must have read his mind.

Lex and Lana told the story briefly, about how a young Lana had once caught a young skinny-dipping Lex in his pool doing his girlfriend du jour. The breast stroke, Lana had quipped as Lex had rolled his eyes.

"The interesting thing, though," Lex grinned, not repentant nor embarrassed in the least, "was that Lana never said anything, never made her presence known to us."

Not to be outmaneuvered, Lana retorted, "I think it's even more interesting that you knew someone was there, but didn't do anything about it."

Amid the lusty laughter that followed, Clark thought he was going to come in his pants for a second, just from the idea of Lana watching Lex naked and cavorting in his pool-the two people who comprised ninety percent of his sexual fantasies... Until he realized that Lana had been privy to something that Clark could only imagine in his most private moments. She knew what Lex was like during sex-what he looked like, how he moved, how he sounded. She'd seen him naked, had seen his chest and his cock and his little skinny butt...and Clark couldn't remember if he'd ever even seen Lex without a shirt.

Pete thought the story was extraordinarily funny. Clark thought it was mostly that Pete enjoyed that Lana was able to hold her own with Lex. Although Pete had come to accept that Lex was Clark's friend, he'd never really warmed to the guy much himself.

Finally Pete turned to Chloe and grinned. "So Lana likes to watch and Lex likes to be watched. What are you, Chloe? A watcher? Or do you like to be watched?"

She gave him a sharp jab in the shoulder with a bony knuckle, and Clark's eyes were involuntarily drawn to the soft sway of her breasts as she moved. There definitely was something to be said about girls with curves. "Pete!" she scolded, her indignant shock obviously feigned. "You first!"

"I'm a watcher!" Pete proclaimed proudly, his shitty grin revealing that he was as aroused as Clark was by the direction of their conversation. "Unless of course there's some fine little woman who'd like to watch, and then I have no problem with being watched."

"Mmmm, Pete," Chloe sidled over closer to him and batted her eyes suggestively. "Is that an offer...?"

The laughter that followed was edged with unease, because the flirtation between Chloe and Pete was starting to walk a very fine line between real and exaggerated. All Pete could do in response was squirm in his seat a little, waggle his eyebrows at her and grin, promising "Maybe later, pretty girl, maybe later."

Chloe then turned her attention to Clark, her eyes shining with wicked pleasure. "How about you, Clark?"

"That's easy," Pete smirked as he waved his hand dismissively toward the open loft window, indicating Clark's telescope. "He's a watcher. Right, Clark?"

Clark could only clear his throat nervously. He was pretty sure they all had figured out at some point where that telescope used to be aimed before Lana moved in with Chloe and her dad, but he didn't want to ever admit it out loud to them. However, his speechlessness just seemed to confirm everyone's suspicions anyway, and they all laughed as his cheeks grew hotter and hotter.

He tried to throw the attention off himself by saying, "You never answered Pete, Chloe. Watcher or watched?"

It seemed like a good way to redirect everyone's attention. He had thought at first that she might be embarrassed about it, since she hadn't answered Pete directly when he'd asked her, but that didn't turn out to be the case. Instead, she just rolled her eyes at him. "Geez, Clark. Don't you pay any attention to me at all?"

Clark swallowed drily, stung by her criticism in light of their history, and realized that the attention was right back on him. He opened his mouth to try to answer, but couldn't manage to say a thing, making the moment more awkward and humiliating by the second.

Lex seemed to be the only one to have any pity on him. "Clark, I think the heat's getting to you. You look flushed. Are you all right?" He held out his half-full glass of lemonade toward Clark, his expression seemingly concerned, but with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"I'm fine Lex. It's just hot in here." Gratefully, he used Lex's opening to grab the glass and take a long gulp, surreptitiously making sure he sipped from the exact same spot on the glass that Lex had. Clark thought about Chloe's probable preference for a moment. "Well, Chloe, you're a reporter. An observer of events...I'd say that makes you a watcher."

Chloe looked genuinely pleased. "Hey, there's hope for you yet, Kent," she grinned and leaned over to pour herself another glass of lemonade, inadvertently revealing a generous amount of cleavage. "And here I thought you didn't have enough blood left in your brain to think clearly."

Clark knew that couldn't be really true, because he felt the blood rise in his cheeks and he blushed hotly at his friends' naughty laughter. Except for Lex, who merely smiled at him crookedly with a certain amount of compassion while undoing his top two shirt buttons. Even amid his embarrassment, Clark felt a frisson of arousal and curiosity as he glimpsed Lex's moist, smooth skin underneath.

Chloe continued, "So I guess since we're all watchers except for Lex, and Pete, who must be some kind of bi-watch-a-sexual or something." She raised her arms to try to twist her short hair into a bun to keep it off her neck, apparently unaware that her movements made her breasts noticeably...noticeable. Clark felt his cock surge as he realized that even Lana seemed to take note. Then Chloe grinned impishly, impervious to their stares. "So that must mean that Pete and Lex will be performing for our watching pleasure this evening."

Everyone laughed in a nervous how-daring-will-this-get way, and then Pete stood up and pulled his T shirt off as he tried gyrating his hips in a decidedly awkward fashion. The girls gasped and giggled and clapped as Pete danced comically around them, swinging his T over his head and tossing it away like some kind of clumsy stripper.

And Clark found himself staring at Lex, half looking to see if Lex would be disgusted by their childish wicked play, and half looking with the hope that Lex would join in the fun and do the same as Pete.

Or maybe it wasn't half and half. Maybe it was more like 30/70 or 20/80, with the side wishing for a Lex striptease easily winning.

Lex saw him looking and just grinned at him smugly, and reached to take the lemonade glass back from Clark. He held Clark's eye as he again licked the glass with a little flick of his tongue before drinking, his expression almost wantonly sexual. Then he opened up his mouth for an ice cube, sucked on it a moment, and then slowly pushed it through his lips and back into the glass.

Clark gulped for air and squirmed in his seat.

Pete's dance wound down as the girls began talking again about one of the girls in the junior class who was always bragging about what she'd done and with whom. Clark and Pete both remarked that they thought it was odd that there was only that one girl who would talk about her experiences, when they each could name at least twenty guys they knew who would do the same.

"It's not that girls don't talk about this stuff. It's just that most girls don't talk about it as publicly as she does," Chloe explained.

"But how do you girls ever learn anything if you don't talk about it and compare notes?" Pete asked.

"Oh, we learn things," Lana was quick to reassure him. "We're just a little more circumspect about how we go about it."

"Right," Chloe nodded her head vigorously, then grinned at Lana. "Like that time you asked me what rimming was!"

As Pete chuckled, Lana defended herself, "Hey, just because I'm not a virgin doesn't mean I've done everything! And trust me, that is something I don't even want to try!"

As Chloe and Pete made faces and agreed with Lana how disgusting it was, Clark was not quite quick enough to mask the wonder on his face. Chloe, observer to the end, was the one who caught Clark's inquisitive expression.

"You don't know what rimming is either, do you Clark?"

Clark wished he had the lemonade glass in his hand so he would have some kind of excuse to look away from all their condescending faces. But condescension notwithstanding, he decided that he just couldn't render yet another lie to his friends and finally answered honestly. "Um, sorta...uh...no. Not really."

From there, his embarrassment grew tenfold as everyone but Lex began to laugh and argue about who was going to be the one to tell Clark the sordid little details. Clark could feel his face getting hotter and redder until he was almost sure that a tomato-red face might be another of his enhanced abilities.

But as Chloe and Pete and Lana were giggling amid their protestations of "I'm not going to tell him, you tell him." "No, you tell him." "No you." Lex got up and poured more lemonade into his glass, and then brought it over and handed it to Clark. As Clark gulped the drink thankfully, Lex leaned over and whispered what Clark needed to know in his ear.

Clark could barely concentrate on Lex's words as the nearness of his lips and the gentle waft of his breath and his sweet, sweaty, musky scent made the hairs on the back of Clark's neck rise.

When Lex finished and straightened up, Clark found himself involuntarily asking "W-what?" He wasn't quite sure he'd understood what Lex had just said, but more importantly, he just wanted to see if he could get Lex to whisper in his ear again.

And he did. With a crooked grin and no hesitation, Lex repeated his explanation. Clark listened this time, and couldn't help but play out in his mind what he was hearing. He hoped his cock wouldn't burst. He hoped his heat vision wouldn't set the barn on fire.

He closed his eyes. He hoped he might someday get the chance to try this out with Lex...

When he opened his eyes again, Lana caught his eye and exclaimed, "Isn't that just gross?"

Clark felt his mouth hanging open, waiting for the appropriate response to pop into his head. He saw Lex sit back down next to Chloe, his expression smug, but with a hint of something else in his eyes that Clark couldn't decipher.

"I...I...," Clark started, and cleared his throat as the laughter and giggles started up again around him. "I've grown up on a farm, and I've learned a lot of stuff from just watching the animals...But I have to admit I've never seen any of our livestock do that."

The eruption of hilarity that followed bolstered Clark's self-confidence a bit. It was always nice to hear the laughter when one was trying to make a joke, rather than when one was the joke. His eyes were involuntarily drawn to Lex, hoping that he also had Lex's approval.

Lex had that same crookedly smug grin on his face as he gazed back at Clark, making Clark feel naked.

Anxiously, he passed the lemonade glass to Lex and blurted the first thing that came to mind. "Do you think it's gross, Lex?"

Lex's smile was gentle, and his voice was soft. But his eyes held a challenging glint as they met Clark's. "Not at all, Clark."

And suddenly the loft was quiet, a collective gasp from the friends sucking all the air from the room.

Chloe, never one to be intimidated, asked unflinchingly, "Have you ever done it, Lex?"

Lex blinked at Clark suddenly, as if coming back from somewhere far away, stood up and handed the glass back to Clark. He picked up his jacket and glanced at Clark apologetically.

"I think I'd better go before I get arrested."

"W-what?" Clark could only stammer. No, he thought. Don't go, not yet.

Lex smiled ruefully. "I'm the only legal adult here, and if this gets any wilder, I'll be the one to get into trouble. Thanks for the lemonade."

Clark finally stood, but moved awkwardly, cursing his teenaged hormones for the moment. "You don't have to go, Lex. It'll be okay."

"Does that mean you've done it?" Chloe persisted with a wicked gleam.

Lex was already at the top of the stairs, but he turned around at Chloe's question. "Young lady," Lex sighed with a self-possessed air. "I don't think there's much that I haven't done."

Clark would have relegated the response as simply a sign of arrogance for the benefit of Lex's young audience, except that Lex hadn't looked at Chloe when he'd spoken, but at Clark, with a knowing, teasing, sparkle in his eyes. Clark wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

In fact, Clark was so occupied with his thoughts that he didn't even say anything as Lex disappeared down the stairs. It wasn't until he heard the rest of his friends start to whisper among themselves that he realized he'd let Lex leave without even a friendly 'see ya'.

"Lex," Clark started to call out, but his voice broke roughly in his throat. He rose and quickly climbed down the wooden staircase to catch up with him, only vaguely noting some of the phrases that came from his friends' conversation. ...wild in Metropolis... kinky... did stuff with guys...

"Lex!"

Lex was only as far as the barn door, and when he heard Clark's voice, he stopped and turned, lifting a single eyebrow slyly. For a fleeting moment, the thought ran through Clark's mind that maybe Lex might be expecting him to say goodnight with a kiss. For about the millionth time, Clark wondered how Lex would feel-would his kiss be soft and sweet like his smooth face, or would it be unnerving and dangerous like his eyes?

"Yes Clark?" Okay, maybe nothing so bold as a kiss. But Lex certainly had an air of wicked expectation about him. Or just plain hope?

But hope for what? Clark saw a tiny drop of sweat trickle down the side of Lex's neck and pool in the hollow of his collarbone. He wondered what Lex would do if he leaned over and licked it away.

Now that he had stopped Lex from leaving, Clark wasn't really sure what to say. Or do. In reality, he knew that any kind of sweat-licking was out. He would never even be brave enough to touch his finger to the sweat and lick it off his own finger, no matter how much the idea aroused him. Yet, Clark felt like there was something unfinished between them that night. He hadn't imagined Lex's suggestiveness with the lemonade glass and the ice cube, had he?

"Um..uh...I hope we didn't chase you away with all that goofy talk up there."

Lex smiled shrewdly. "Well, I would prefer if my police dossier didn't include charges of contributing to the delinquency of minors."

Clark grinned, "You think that might affect your chances of becoming President?"

"Probably not, actually," Lex shrugged. "But all the same, I don't really want to discuss my sexual history with a bunch of high school kids."

"I...I'm sorry," Clark mumbled awkwardly, suddenly feeling ashamed and confused. He'd been wrong. The licks on the glass, the ice cube, the private whispers and twinkling eyes had only been his own wishful thinking. It had been the heat of the evening and the crude subject matter of their conversation arousing Clark's imagination. Lex was just being Lex, in that innate sensual way that he always had. Nothing more.

Clark was just a naive high school boy to him. A nerd. A geek. A twerp. The dweeby kid Lex called friend simply because he was too kind to tell him to go away. Local color and charm, and a refreshing naivete, but that's all.

And yet, Lex hadn't moved to go. He was still there, gazing at Clark with those intense, bright grey/blue eyes that sometimes seemed to see inside him, his expression soft and genial. "It's okay, Clark. I should be going home anyway. It's been a long day and I'm tired."

Lex started to turn away, but Clark reached a hand to his shoulder and stopped him. "I'm sorry," he repeated as he noticed Lex's stiff muscles beneath his hand. "Here you came looking for some friendly companionship, and all we did was put you on the spot."

"A bunch of kids talking dirty isn't exactly as stressful as the board meeting I was in all day," Lex smiled wistfully, and then closed his eyes as Clark's fingers automatically squeezed Lex's tense shoulder. "God, that feels good."

"Come here then," Clark whispered as he moved behind Lex, raised his free hand to Lex's other shoulder and carefully began to knead the muscles, worrying if he was being too daring, wondering if he was being daring enough. "Man, you're tight."

Lex sighed and relaxed into Clark's massage. He turned his face slightly toward Clark and quirked his lips as he murmured, "I've been told that before."

Whoa. Clark gulped drily and had to concentrate hard on keeping his hands from cracking the fragile bones underneath. He couldn't have imagined that, could he? Did Lex really mean what Clark thought he meant? Or was it just the heat and his own imagination again?

Clark glanced down to make sure there was a suitable amount of space between his frontside and Lex's back. He had to be careful, because if Lex's remark was somehow innocent, or if he were merely teasing, Clark could easily get himself in an embarrassing place. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and forced himself to ignore the visions his mind was supplying right then of exactly where it was that Lex was tight, and exactly how it was that someone had ever remarked upon it.

"So the meeting must have been pretty intense, huh?" Clark asked, hopefully innocently enough.

Lex sighed, sounding tired. "About as usual. The worst part is I have to go back tomorrow and do it again. It's hard to stay sharp at all day meetings like that, but if I let up for just one second, it could prove fatal for the corporation...And I know a lot of people in Smallville are counting on me to not let that happen."

Poor baby. Clark felt a sincere sympathy toward Lex, and wondered what would happen if he just moved up close behind Lex and wrapped his arms around him. Would Lex allow a hug under these circumstances? Maybe he didn't want that. Lex didn't seem like the type who would want to be cuddled. If he did, wouldn't he just lean back a little toward Clark until he rested against him?

Unable to make up his mind, Clark merely stammered another apology. "I'm sorry," he whispered. I'm sorry I don't have the guts to make a move, Lex. I'm afraid of ruining what we have. I'm too scared I'm reading the signs wrong. Just like I always do with Lana. SSDD.

But then Lex did lean back, and Clark felt him settle against his chest, Lex's neck arching under Clark's massaging hands until the back of his head rested against Clark's shoulder. "You've got to stop apologizing for things that aren't your fault, Clark."

Clark almost apologized again, but instead slowly trailed his hands from Lex's shoulders to his biceps, and then started to wrap Lex up in his arms just like he'd fantasized only a moment ago. Lex felt deliciously warm and moist through that thin silky shirt, and his scent was a wonderfully musky blend of perspiration and expensive cologne. He wondered if it would be all right if he kissed that little sweet spot just behind Lex's left ear. Or maybe he'd think of something he could just whisper in Lex's ear, close enough so that he could press his nose near and savor Lex's scent more intimately.

It was frustrating as all hell that a sudden burst of laughter from up in the loft interrupted Clark's plans. Both he and Lex jerked away from each other and glanced up the stairs, only to find that no one was paying them any attention at all. Clark's three friends were still seated well away from the stairs and out of sight...which meant that Clark and Lex were out of their line of sight too.

The moment was lost though, and Clark's disappointment was so enormous that he couldn't even take any pleasure in the fact that Lex's face was wearing a decidedly sheepish expression.

"I think I will go now," Lex said softly, not meeting Clark's eyes as he unrolled his shirtsleeves and re-fastened them with his cufflinks, "before I really do something that could get me arrested."

Clark wanted to ask him to stay longer. He wanted to rub his shoulders again. He wanted to hug him some more. He wanted to find out what it was that Lex worried would get him arrested. He wanted to follow him out and grab him in the privacy of the darkened barnyard and kiss him senseless. He wanted to push him up against the paddock rail and learn firsthand about Lex's tightness, about rimming, and about all the things that Lex knew... But instead he simply stood there, stupidly mute, until he finally managed to choke out, "Okay."

Lex walked out to his Porsche, his usual swagger seeming a bit contrived, and opened the door. Before getting in he looked back at Clark a moment, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a lopsided grin that looked more regretful than wistful. "Good night, Clark."

Clark felt like he would explode in frustration. But instead he merely inclined his head toward his friend and answered softly, "G'night."

When Clark returned to the loft, feeling oddly depressed, it seemed that his friends were all done supposing about Lex's experiences, and had moved on past high school classmates to things that they'd seen in movies and on cable. Clark sat on the same hay bale as before and tried to interest himself in the mischievous chatter, but couldn't quite manage it.

All he could think about was Lex, and Lex's heat, and Lex's scent, and Lex's smoldering blue eyes... and whether he'd read the situation wrong...or right. Lex had bolted so quickly from his arms before-was it really because of the sudden laughter from above, or was it because Clark had overstepped the bounds of their friendship? Had Clark's perceptions of Lex's seductive flirting been solely induced by heat and hormones?

What would Lex have done if Clark had taken a chance and kissed him, or had been bold enough to kiss away those sweet drops of sweat? Maybe he would have hauled off and slugged Clark, and might now be nursing a bruised or broken hand. Would Lex have ever forgiven him, and would their friendship be ruined, or at least uncomfortably awkward?

On the other hand...what if there had been no sudden interruption before? How long would Lex have let Clark hold him? Would Lex have made any moves? Did Lex know how easily he could have had anything from Clark? Was that what he was afraid of that caused his remark about getting arrested?

"Oh shit!" Chloe swore and jumped up from the sofa, her sudden movement hauling Clark back to the present. She grabbed Lana's arm and showed her watch to her, and then Lana jumped up also.

"Sorry guys, we gotta book outta here! If we miss curfew again, Dad's gonna ground us for a month! Tell your Mom thanks for the lemonade..." And with a clatter of sandals on the stairs, the girls disappeared from view, roaring off in the little red VW just moments later, leaving thick clouds of dust in their wake.

"And off they go in a cloud of dust and a hearty Hi-O Silver!" Pete chuckled. He gathered up the girls' empty glasses and set them with his own next to the two empty pitchers on Martha's picnic tray. Clark just watched, still preoccupied with his thoughts of Lex.

Pete stretched out comfortably on the beat up old sofa and sighed. "Man, it's hot today. And talking smut for an hour sure didn't help matters, did it?" he grinned.

Clark just shrugged and wondered how he would ever be able to sleep that night.

"Hey Clark. Man, you okay? You've gone out to left field and not come back a few times tonight."

Oops. Was he that obvious? "I'm fine. The heat just kind of makes me tired."

Pete suddenly sat up and peered at Clark suspiciously. "Hey, you're not bummed by finding out that Lana's not a virgin, are you?"

"Huh?" Oh right. He'd almost forgotten all about that. "No, I'm not bummed. I was sorta surprised I guess..."

"Surprised? Geez, Clark. Are you blind, naive, or just plain dumb? I mean, going with Whitney Fordman all that time-what did you expect?"

"Nothing, Pete. I didn't expect anything." Clark didn't want to talk about Lana now, not when a real opportunity with Lex had just slipped through his fingers. Not when it was Lana who'd gotten to see Lex in a private moment that Clark could only dream about.

"Come on, Clark. Tell me you're not one of those macho freaks who insists that his woman be 'untarnished'!"

"Pete, no, of course I'm not!" Obviously he didn't care-Lex was clearly not a virgin, and Clark just found that idea hot. "Lana slept with Whitney, Whitney's dead. End of story. It has no bearing whatsoever on what I feel for Lana!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Pete held his hands up in surrender, and Clark immediately regretted being so short with him. Pete was just being a friend and trying to get him to open up, mistakenly thinking that it was Lana occupying Clark's thoughts. But Clark wasn't ready to open up about his feelings for Lex. In some ways, he couldn't be sure Pete would take that as well as the news that Clark was an alien.

"It's just that I was hoping that now you could see that she's a real person and not perfect. You always freak out and never make a move on her because you've set her up on this big pedestal way out of reach. I thought maybe now that you know she's got the same desires and stuff as the rest of us, maybe you might not be so shy about asking her out."

Clark nodded thoughtfully at Pete, accepting his advice without really listening. All he could think about now was the sweat gathering at his temples, and how he wished things had gone differently with Lex.

After a few minutes of silence, Pete stood up and stretched. "Well, I'm going to head home. I sure hope Mom has the air conditioning turned on. I'll never understand why my parents got central air if they're never going to use it!"

After Pete left, Clark brought the tray in and set it quietly by the kitchen sink, but couldn't bring himself to go up to bed just yet. He still felt an edginess left over from all that talk of sex and his near encounter with Lex. He found himself wandering back up to the darkened loft and staring out the big open window at the fields below, listening to the crickets and locusts and occasional coyote howl. There was just a hint of a breeze wafting past him, just slightly cooled by the darkness of evening.

He stared off toward the house that Lana had grown up in, now occupied by another family that Clark had barely met. How many times had he aimed his telescope toward that house, hoping to get a glimpse of Lana staring dreamily back toward the Kent farm? It had never happened, but he'd never really given up hope, even after all the times he'd seen Whitney's truck parked out front until midnight.

Feeling at a loose ends and slightly nostalgic, Clark bent over the eyepiece of his telescope and swung it around until the familiar homestead came into view. No lights, everyone was probably asleep over there. Curtains rustled in the breeze in the window of the bedroom that used to be Lana's. But there was nothing of interest for him there anymore.

He wasn't interested in Lana right now anyway. Maybe tomorrow things would all go back the way they were, or maybe when the heat wave broke... but for right now, all Clark wanted to think about was Lex, and his slender shoulders and sensuous, musky scent, and his knowing, indecent eyes.

He moved the telescope until it was aimed at the Luthor mansion. He couldn't really see it from here because of the slope of the countryside, but the idea occurred to him that maybe he might see the lights of the perimeter yard reflected on the night sky. It wouldn't be the same as actually being able to see Lex, or his home, but there would be some kind of comfort knowing that he was looking at where Lex was sleeping that night.

As Clark adjusted the focus, a glint of light in the foreground caught his eye, and he focussed in on it to see what it was. It took a few moments until he could make it out, and when he finally saw it, he gasped and looked out the window towards it with his naked eyes, almost not believing it could be true, thinking he must be dreaming, or that his wishful thinking had taken over again.

When he looked back through the telescope again, it was still there, out on the crest of the first hill between the Kent farm and the Luthor mansion. Out on that little unnamed dirt road that led to the old windmill. There, out in the middle of nowhere, but within clear view of Clark's telescope, was Lex's Porsche, its shiny metallic paint reflecting the moonlight brightly, a sharp contrast to the deep darkness of the corn and wheat fields around it.

And, best of all, Lex was right there, lying comfortably on his back on the hood and windshield of the car, resting with his arms folded behind his head, pillowed on his folded suitjacket, staring up at the stars. Lex looked beautiful out there, seeming lost in thought as he gazed into that same sky that had once dropped Clark into the corn field nearby. With the soft moonlight on his face, Lex looked like one of those Greek statues he'd seen in the museum in Metropolis, sculpted from the finest, whitest marble. His shirt was still open at the collar, and his sleeves were rolled up again, revealing forearms that were slender and deliciously veined. Clark loved Lex's lean strength-he was tall and slim, but strong and feisty as one of the bantam roosters Clark had once raised for 4-H. And like the rooster, Lex had a dignified, masculine beauty that had to be admired.

Clark adjusted the focus on his telescope and sighed. He never understood why people, including his own friends and family, were put off by Lex's smooth head. Clark thought he was beautiful as he was, and though he knew Lex had once had fiery red hair, he wouldn't have changed a thing about him. Lex was unique, and striking, and Clark had long ago decided that he loved that vein in the side of Lex's head that swelled and throbbed when Lex exercised or was overheated. There were many times when he'd fantasized about pressing his mouth to that vein and feeling it pulse beneath his lips.

Like now, as Lex pulled a neatly folded white linen handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed sweat from his forehead. Even in the open night air, the temperature must have still seemed hot and stifling to a man who was accustomed to air-conditioned amenities. As Lex replaced his handkerchief in his pants pocket, Clark noted that Lex's expression seemed to grow pensive as he gazed up at the stars, pressing his lips together as he thought.

And then Lex tore his gaze from the night sky above him and turned to look directly at Clark. Taken aback, Clark gasped and backed away from the telescope, for one short moment thinking that Lex had caught him spying. But after reminding himself that there was no way that Lex would be able to see him standing in the dark in the barn window nearly a mile away, Clark took a deep breath and returned to his viewing, unable to resist the allure.

He wondered what Lex was thinking about as Lex continued to stare in the direction of the Kent farm, absently running his fingers over the beaded perspiration on his chest. He wondered if it was possible that Lex might be thinking of him, and of what had happened-almost happened-between them that night. Did he feel like Clark, and regret that nothing more had come of it? Was he as intrigued by the possibilities as Clark was? Or was he just musing about what a dope Clark had been, and wondering what the hell the boy had been thinking?

Or maybe he was just thinking about how hot he was. Lex suddenly sat up, unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, and then yanked his perspiring arms out of the clinging sleeves as if he simply could not bear the fabric one moment longer. He balled the shirt up and placed it with his folded jacket, creating a slightly loftier pillow for his head, and then went back to stargazing.

Clark felt a rush of pleasure in his groin as he stared at his shirtless friend, Lex's fine alabaster skin taking his breath away. Yes, like the Greek marble statues, with smooth, handsome contours and lustrous pale skin-but better, with charming, soft rosy nipples and a sheen of delicious sweat. Clark had waited a long time to finally see Lex without a shirt, but it certainly seemed worth the wait.

He wished he could think of some reason to race out there and be with Lex, to see his perfect slender body with the naked eye and not through the lens of his telescope. But he could think of none, and he was far too timid to simply go there because he wanted it. He still worried that he'd read the signals wrong, and that Lex would simply laugh at him and his hormonal fantasies. Or that he'd be angry by having his privacy invaded by Clark's uninvited company. Everyone needed a place to go, to think-that was why Clark had this very loft-and since the mansion was filled with hired help and security systems, Lex really didn't have much privacy there. Maybe he just needed a few minutes to gaze at the stars and contemplate the events of his board meeting that day...

Or maybe he just needed the privacy... because sometimes a man just needs privacy.

Clark swallowed hard as Lex's fingers drew lazy patterns in the dewy perspiration on his chest, lightly tracing swirls over his breastbone, lazily dropping the circles lower over his stomach, circling his tight little navel, and then back up to his neck and collarbone. Clark only realized after the fact that his own hand had slipped under the hem of his T-shirt and was copying Lex's movements. He closed his eyes for a moment and pretended that it was Lex's smooth skin he was touching, but it didn't work. He didn't think his own skin felt soft enough, not the way Lex's would if he ever had the chance to touch him like that.

So then he tried to pretend that it was Lex's fingers touching him. That worked better, perhaps only because of his wishful thinking. Clark knew his hands weren't like Lex's. His own hands were bigger, wider, and coarser, his movements were clumsier, and he had no grace whatsoever... but his imagination was filling in all the gaps, and for now, this would do just fine. He convinced himself that this was what it would be like if Lex touched him...and opened his eyes again.

He gazed through the eyepiece and gasped again as he saw Lex's finger gently grasp a nipple and pinch it lightly. His own fingers mirroring the action, Clark felt it tingle from his nipple straight to his groin, hot blood surging into his cock and filling it for about the millionth time that evening.

And then Lex's face turned and looked at him again. Even though Clark knew this time that Lex couldn't really see him, the effect was still startling , and Clark yanked his hand out from under his shirt as fast as if he'd heard his Mom coming up the stairs to the loft. But he didn't back away from the window, and he didn't take his eyes off the living fantasy playing itself out in the eyepiece of his telescope. Lex was now lightly tracing the outlines of his nipples with a fingertip, still gazing in Clark's direction, first the right nipple, then the left, and then back again.

Clark sighed shakily as his hand found his own hard nipples again. The telescope view made Lex seem so near, and Clark wished he could somehow just reach out and touch him, even just for a moment. He just wanted to experience what Lex would feel like-how soft, how smooth, how hot his skin was...

Gulping drily as Lex lightly pinched his nipples again, Clark suddenly felt a swell of guilt rise in his chest. He shouldn't be doing this. It wasn't right. He shouldn't be deriving personal pleasure from this, not from spying on his friend. He shouldn't be watching when his friend thought he was alone, and enjoying a private moment...

Oh.

The realization hit Clark, and he blinked into the eyepiece suddenly, just as Lex's other hand came to rest gently over his crotch, idly cupping his genitals through the fabric of his slacks. The whole conversation he and his friends had had earlier about watching and being watched suddenly came rushing back to him. Lex had heard Pete say how Clark was a 'watcher'; and Lex had never disputed Lana's assertion that Lex liked to be watched...

Is that why Lex keeps looking this way? Is he wondering if I'm watching? Does he know I'm watching? Does he want me to watch?

Whoa. Was it possible? After so many months of taking baby steps toward each other, were they finally getting somewhere?

Cupping his own throbbing cock through his jeans, Clark could feel his heart thudding as he stared through the lens at Lex. Still lazily drawing designs on his chest, gently holding the crotch of his slacks, Lex hadn't looked away from him yet. He simply seemed relaxed and content to lie there calmly touching himself like that, as if it were really too hot to go any further. Clark squeezed his own cock hard through his jeans and tried to convince himself that if that's all that Lex did, he should be content with having seen that much.

It might have worked, but it didn't have to.

After another minute of gentle play on his chest, during which Clark thought he might go berserk from anticipation, Lex smoothly slid his hand under his belt and into his slacks. Clark groaned as he tried to follow suit, but his cock was too swollen, and his jeans too snug, so he had to fumble with the snap and zipper and scrabble at the fly of his boxers until he could finally get his hand on himself.

And he stood there in the darkened loft window, hunched over his telescope, with his pants at his knees and cock in his hand, motionless, waiting breathlessly for Lex to make the next move.

But Lex's hand remained hidden from view, secreted away inside his slacks, and there wasn't quite enough moonlight for Clark to distinguish if there was even any movement coming from the shadows.

His hand squeezed his cock tightly, refusing to give in to the fundamental urge to stroke it, and he heard himself whispering brokenly in the dark, begging, pleading with Lex, "Come on, Lex, take it out. I want to see it. Please. Let me see it. I know you want me to see it..."

Lex was still looking at him, making him feel edgy and nervous on top of his trembling anticipation. And then the corner of Lex's mouth crooked up in a sly grin, and he answered Clark's plea. He unbuckled his belt, opened his pants, and, rising up slightly from the hood of the car, pushed his pants and boxers down past his hips. His erect cock sprang free, slapping lightly against his groin, and yes, Clark smiled wickedly, Lex was delightfully bald, even there. His cock was exactly as Clark had always dreamed it would be-long and lean, like Lex himself, but ruddy and robust, with a smoothly circumsized mushroom cap that glistened in the moonlight.

Clark wished he could have been closer, so he could enjoy more than just the sight of him, but the sound, scent, feel, and taste of him too.

And then Lex began to stroke himself, with a long, slow, smooth motion, and Clark got so excited his eyepiece fogged up. He scrambled frantically in his jeans pocket and finally came up with the red print bandana he used as a handkerchief and gently wiped the lens clean again, cursing every second it took.

When he found Lex again, Lex was still slowly stroking himself, showing Clark the patience that comes with maturity and experience. Clark kept pace on his own cock, forcing himself to match Lex's tempo, finding the slow rhythm maddening, but making himself adhere to Lex's lead. His cock was screaming for a frantic and swift completion, but Clark only had to remind himself of what had happened with Jessie, and managed to refrain from indulging in the quick staccato jerks that would bring his pleasure to a premature end.

Lex's eyes closed and his face turned away, his head falling back onto his pillowed clothing as he began to retreat inside himself, seeing nothing, feeling nothing more than his self-pleasure. Clark could only sigh at the beautiful lines of his profile, and at the wanton image in his telescope sights. He tried to memorize the way Lex's slender fingers gripped his shaft, and how he cupped and rolled his tightening balls in his other hand when he wasn't caressing his nipples.

Never know when knowledge like that might come in handy.

Clark could see his chest rising and falling with deep, passionate breaths as Lex's tempo gradually began to increase. As Clark allowed himself to stroke faster, he felt himself creeping closer and closer to the edge, as much from Lex's beauty and sensuality as from his own actions. He felt like a boy gazing at puppies in a pet shop window. He wanted, he wanted so badly, but he could only watch. He was sure of that much. That was how this game was supposed to be played. They'd been playing for over a year, and it wouldn't do to suddenly invent new rules now.

And then Lex suddenly rose up from the hood of the car and turned to his hands and knees, propping himself in a three-point stance with knees on the hood and one hand on the windshield as his other hand began to pump his cock frantically. His head was thrown back, his neck arched, his eyes squinched shut and his mouth open and gasping for air as he fell further and further into himself, feeling only the impending pleasure of release.

If Clark had continued to keep pace with Lex then, he surely would have finished too soon, so with herculean effort, he forced himself to release his cock, and just let it dangle, stiff and hard and burning, in the hot night breeze, feeling as if it were a hot branding iron sizzling from the fire. He couldn't let himself come yet, not yet, not when he was getting his first look at Lex's white little ass. His memories of Lex's hot whispers in his ear about rimming came back to mind, and he stared at the shadowy crevice between Lex's rounded little butt-cheeks, feeling as if he were being called home. He felt his cock hardening even more, nearly to bursting, and wondered if Lex wanted him in there as badly as Clark (and his cock) wanted to be there.

He pretty much figured he got his answer to that when Lex bent at the waist, raising his butt up higher, and turned slightly so Clark's telescope could get a very nice view as he continued to stroke himself rapidly. Down below his sweet, pearly ass and between his open legs, Clark could still see the shadowy shapes of Lex's balls and cock, and the blur of his hand. It was probably the most seductive sight Clark had ever seen, and he had to cup his balls and squeeze a little to keep from coming. He didn't want to come yet, because he didn't want to close his eyes in his own pleasure and miss a single second of Lex's .

A few seconds later, Lex went straight up on his knees again, head thrown back, handling himself feverishly, and then he came, spurting great gooey streams over his hand, and onto his car hood and windshield. Chest heaving, he fell back to the three-point stance again, and slowly stroked his softening cock, gentling himself, visibly trembling, even through the eye of the telescope.

Clark fumbled for the red bandana and held it to the tip of his cock as he quickly brought himself to release, hissing a sibilant sigh out the loft window as he came, feeling his heart thumping against the inside of his ribs, and gasping for air from the force of his climax. He fell to his knees, panting, knowing without question that he had never come so hard before, had never felt so excited before, and had never felt so fucking seduced before.

When he finally had his breath back and had gathered his strength enough to move, he returned to his telescope to find that Lex had already pulled up his pants and fastened them, and had slipped his wrinkled shirt back on, although he left it unbuttoned. He was standing now beside his Porsche, wiping his hand and mopping up his spattered car with his handkerchief.

Clark for a moment thought he could almost smell Lex on the air, until he realized it was his own come-soaked handkerchief in his hand.

And as Clark continued to watch Lex in the aftermath, Lex turned to face him once more, and graced him with a quirky little crooked grin, and inclined his head toward him. And then he pursed his lips and blew him a soft kiss on the air.

Clark sat down on the floor hard, and gazed around at the darkened barn, feeling something akin to panic. There was no way that Lex could have known for sure that Clark had been watching, was there? Was Lex just playing the odds, covering all the bases, and making assumptions that Clark would probably be watching? Or had he only realized as an afterthought that he may have been watched?

Did it matter? Clark found himself grinning in the dark. He'd gotten what he wanted, for now. He'd seen Lex's beautiful naked body, he'd seen him having sex, and he was now sure that Lex's flirting was not just Clark's overeager teenage imagination.

When he checked his telescope again, he found only the cloud of dust left in the wake of the Porsche as Lex sped away over the hill toward the mansion. Disappointed, Clark watched until the car disappeared and the dust completely settled. He felt exhausted, and yet, he hadn't been quite ready for his peculiar interlude with Lex to end just yet. He still tingled with the excitement of the physical pleasure, and with the anticipation of whatever the next step would be between them. He wondered if Lex would expect him to make the next move? And what would that be?

Still restless, and unable to resist the temptation, Clark found himself speeding out to the crest of the hill where Lex had parked his car, racing through the corn and wheat fields as the stalks parted and slid past him like waves on water.

As he stood atop the hill, he felt a little foolish. Lex was gone-there really was no point in going out there, but all the same, he'd needed to do it. He squinted in the direction of the Kent farm and assured himself once again that Lex could not have seen him-in fact, even in the moonlight, the barn itself was barely more than an amorphous dark shape on the horizon.

He shut his eyes and sighed with relief, and inhaled the night breeze, catching a remnant of Lex on the air. How was that possible? He didn't have any super powers of smell as far as he knew. Opening his eyes, he saw a small white flutter on the ground a few feet away, and he went over to check it out.

It was Lex's white handkerchief, weighted down with a half-empty blue water bottle so that it wouldn't blow away in the breeze. Clark moved the bottle and picked up the white linen cloth, holding it to his face and breathing deeply, sighing with satisfaction and pleasure. It still held Lex's scent-cologne and sweat, and the satisfying salt-bitter odor of semen. Clark smiled and stuffed it in his shirt pocket. It would be a nice little souvenir to have to remind him of this fantastic night, and something that would inspire many future fantasies. It would be enough until the time came when Clark figured out what his next move should be.

His next move....

Clark grinned wickedly and pulled his soiled red bandana from his jeans pocket, bent, and placed it on the ground where Lex's white handkerchief had been, and set the blue water bottle on top of it.

The next morning, Clark was at his telescope at the crack of dawn, and saw when Lex came back to check if Clark had found Lex's 'calling card'.

And when he found Clark's red bandana, he held it to his nose, smiled broadly in a way that Lex rarely ever did, and took it with him when he drove off to Metropolis.