Something So Fragile
By: Lexalot

Summary: Lex is bent on breaking things.

Rating: NC-17! (Note the exclamation point!)

Disclaimer: The WB created the monster that is this fandom. They hardly have the right to whine when it rampages through the canon that is their world :}

Pairing: Clark/Lex

Inspiration and Reference: Music--"Doll Parts" by Hole

Thanks: To Katze for her encouragement; and to everyone else who has ever read, supported, or inspired my writing.

Very Important Notes: Written specially for Rontgenkatze and SkaterBoy's Kinksville Challenge! Consider this your warning!

The tranquil sounds of the night leaked into the darkened bedroom from the open balcony doors. Lex's eyes shone like white glass in the shadows. He had not even come close to sleep. He didn't know why he was suffering this bout of insomnia tonight. He was just inexplicably wide-awake.

His eyes gravitated to the slumbering silhouette at his side. His lover's back was to him and the boy slept like he had all the peace of mind in the world, which was something Lex could only imagine. He regarded Clark a moment longer, then his lingering gaze wandered over the room, randomly settling on a lamp atop the nightstand next to him. Something irked him about it. He couldn't place his frustration, but it grew the longer he stared at it. He became fixated on it, and he couldn't tear his eyes away, even as some strange disdain for the inanimate object began to possess him.

A half hour must have passed and he was still staring at the hideous thing. He wondered why the hell he had ever purchased that lamp or why he had kept it so long, and why he had ever thought it was anything of value or beauty. The path his mind barreled down made no sense, but he was overcome with revulsion and contempt for this innocent artifact.

Then, without giving it any conscious thought, his mind functioning so strangely tonight, he reached out and nudged the lamp over an inch. He saw no reason to stop, and he wanted to continue, so he pushed it two inches this time, and gradually it appeared to be making its way towards the edge of the nightstand. Finally, he jutted his hand out and propelled the delicate antique off the polished surface. The porcelain erupted in ceramic splinters and fragments, echoing through the room with a reverberating tumult that startled Clark and wrenched him from the restful comfort of dream.

"Lex? What was that? Are you okay?" Clark had been jarred into consciousness, and though he was alert enough, he was still disoriented and groggy.

Lex quickly masked his sudden loss of reason and control and hid the destructive tendencies that were consuming him more and more lately. "I'm fine, Clark. I just broke the lamp. I went to turn it on, and I accidentally knocked it over." A lie. He was getting insanely talented at those, and his responses were coming more easily and sounding more plausible.

As Clark laid back down, resting his head upon the downy pillow with his back to his lover again, Lex realized he should not be enjoying the ability to delude his significant other, and more frighteningly astounding was the ability to delude himself. He almost had himself convinced that he hadn't meant to destroy the elegant and priceless treasure, but he could not deny the truth deep inside him. Leading Clark on with this facade was inexcusable, but the part of him that reveled in the power such acts gave him refused him the luxury of caring. One day, however, he would go too far in testing the walls, and Lex was fascinated to realize that such a thing was inevitable. He was morbidly amused by the promise of bringing the entire life that he had built crashing down upon him, and he had no idea why.

The room became too quiet again, and when the warm body sharing his bed sighed to liven the dead air, he found his worrisome and jumbled thoughts traveling to Clark. He wondered if Clark ever broke, if he had a breaking point. It seemed fairly obvious he must have had one, yet at the same time, it seemed like he didn't. Sure, everyone has an emotional and mental limit where they can be broken, but did Clark have a physical one too like the lamp had? That notion intrigued Lex both as a scientific mind and a lover.

Lover. Lex couldn't remember the last time he and Clark had made love. Their lives were changing and they were drifting apart. It was the detestable harbinger of looming rejection. Even if Clark wasn't capable of breaking, their relationship was. Lex's heart could break and so could their love. Depression began to choke Lex at the idea alone, as if he were losing Clark in this very moment. He felt as though it were real, like Clark had just broken up with him, and the pain was more than he could bear. Cemented in the moment, Lex mulled it over and decided that should he and Clark never be together in this intimate way again, he wanted to be with him one last time. That desire stoked the instant the ember was born.

Lex leaned closer to Clark, moving up behind him with a tentative approach at first. He slipped his hands under the satin sheets, roaming the sleek curves of Clark's bare sinews, following the deep and flowing trench down the sculpted valley of his entire back. He went straight for the opening, his hand tracing the surrounding area until he planted one finger poised at the entrance. Lips grazed Clark's shoulder, summoning him from the forerunning stages of sleep, and without a word, Clark rose into the contact.

The gesture was the consent Lex sought, and his finger broke the surface, penetrating deeper and deeper until it was fully inside Clark. Lex dragged it back against the folds of tissue that should have been more delicate, but always seemed to flex to accommodate the pressure he applied there. When Lex plunged his finger back in only to draw it back out again, Clark groaned in complaint, wriggling back into Lex's lean frame, remaining on his side, perfectly fitted to spoon positioning with Lex. Two fingers repaid his new proximity, and Lex wielded them with more aggressive action, purposefully stretching the taut muscle that surrounded them. As he extracted the two, he crooked them both, teasing the highly sensitized point that made Clark push his body down onto the fingers and force them all the way back into the depths of that canal. Lex practically punished him, immediately pulling the fingers out and Clark writhed at the echoing sensation and the wanton need for it to be resumed.

An agonizing minute passed for them both, Clark aching in the suspense of Lex's phantom presence that lingered inside him, and Lex surrendered to the temptation of revisiting the tantalizing agony on his precious beloved. From what he had observed, Clark's pleasure was increasing more with every boundary he tested in curiosity and every experimental push he recklessly chased with more.

If this was what Clark desired, Lex would deliver. Lex's more primal instincts took control, and he inserted three fingers now, the elasticity holding up flawlessly under this extra duress. Clark brought his legs up towards him more, curling them further in front of him to afford Lex a better angle from behind and means to enhance the mutual stimulation. Clark's endurance was admirable, and his invulnerability a marvel. The rhythm Lex established only served to raise Clark's adrenaline as well as the volume of his tiny moans that were no longer so faint. When Lex added the fourth finger, all that was broken was a sweat, Clark's skin beginning to glisten with the moisture. Beads formed and trickled down the chiseled terrain that Lex consumed with his eyes and his mouth in worship of it.

The act had suddenly taken on such a surreal quality, leaving Lex in a sort of euphoric shock that it was actually happening. What he was doing to Clark seemed so implausible, especially with the rigorous movement that apparently did Clark no harm and dealt him no damage. Without making a conscious effort at it, Lex worked his thumb inside as well, where his destructive streak met an impasse. His compulsive desire discovered a bizarre satisfaction, pacifying his impulses formerly hell-bent on breaking something that was supposed to be frail and susceptible to fraying, but had yet to wear or dull or crack. It became oddly reassuring. Clark hadn't broken and Lex had the impression he wasn't going to break. The one thing that could bring solace was having this pivotal detail proven to him beyond any remote hint of doubt.

With the antagonistic drive in his libido transforming into lust-ridden and love-addled heat paramount to any he had ever experienced, Lex balled his hand up tightly inside the walls that flexed around his skin, yielding to the invasion and embracing it with astonishing ease. Very gradually, beginning with care as he forced movement against the strain of distended muscle, he resumed his previous rhythm, the motion carrying his entire fisted hand up and down the length of this canal from its opening to its depths and back again. Clark cried out, the sound as agonizing as the pleasure must have been, and incredibly, it was pleasure without the kind of pain that hurt, embodying only the best of the physical torment--the excess want, the burning need, and the thrilling taste for it that had been acquired all too quickly. Clark's reactions prompted Lex to become more brazen, and he started to pound into him, growing more rapid and ruthless.

This was the most intense and unique carnal delight Lex had ever known and the hardest sexual exploit he had ever embarked upon, and it had been completely unintentional. The conditions through which they were achieving ecstasy were a total accident, and the obscene and lewd nature of it was overshadowed by how natural the transition had felt. Clark was quite literally impaled on Lex's whole clenched hand--he was fucking Clark's ass with his fist, and somehow, it was the ideal expression Lex wanted and all the evidence of love he needed.

Lex drowned himself in the moment, turning Clark's face towards him and kissing him with fierce passion that found renewed love. He couldn't explain the psychological unrest's culmination any more than he could its emergence. Something that had grown stale and sour, something that Lex would rather have destroyed while it was beautiful than watch it turn ugly and cold, something that he would rather have hated to love than loved to hate, something that had recently made him a prisoner but had currently set him free, something so fragile he had with Clark that had withstood his incidental trial and triumphed to be revitalized rather than die--something overcame him that, even in all this furious rapture, felt like peace.

Clark cried out again and Lex's attention focused on his lover's peaked state of arousal. Lex thought the scale of this infiltration must have led every slight tremor to feel like a massive quake--that one true spot that represented internal paradise could not escape the assault, and without the factor of tremendous pain, the attack seemed to fill Clark like nirvana.

Lex lifted himself off the mattress and hovered over Clark as he still lay on his side. Lex came to his knees, and bent over Clark, his fist still fully buried in his lover and working relentlessly. As he leaned over Clark's side, he brought his head in towards Clark's lap, and Clark readjusted the positioning of his legs a bit to give Lex the space he needed, being extremely cautious not to straighten while impaled like this. Then, Lex abruptly engulfed Clark's cock with his mouth, sucking at the thick meat of his length, working the muscle as feverishly as he wielded his hand.

Clark finally surrendered his will to the climax he had been delaying, torn from his restraint by the divine bliss that wreaked havoc upon his senses. Clark was coming, ravaged on two fronts and overwhelmed, his cries peaking in the form of Lex's name. Lex was coming, shooting over the edge when the first pulse of Clark's cock spilled its thick, hot milk onto his tongue.

When they were both finished, Lex fell back behind Clark again. Lex took meticulous measure to remove his hand from inside Clark, and the sensation wrenched a deep moan from Clark's mouth and another gush of semen from his softening sex. When Lex was all the way out, Clark immediately turned into his arms, not giving him a single second's chance to pull away and create distance between them. Clark pressed kisses to Lex's chest repeatedly, his lips absorbing the salty taste of sweat, his affection so tender and approving. Lex was in awe of the contented air that encompassed them--they had barely shared a moment like this one in months, and the afterglow was intoxicating.

Release. Relief. Comfortable silence.

Idle thoughts started to manifest and vaguely analyze what had just happened.

Lex knew himself to have many weak points, falling victim to his darkest and basest emotions, but he realized now that Clark was strong in ways he wasn't. Perhaps that would save them. Maybe there were some things that were eternally unbreakable. Lex pinned his hopes to that concept, a faith dawning in him that had not existed there before.

The impact of exhaustion loomed. Tired suddenly.

Clark breathed into Lex's heart, and whispered. "I love you."

Lex heard it, but he did not have it in him to say it back.

With his arms wrapped around his young lover, Lex fell asleep.