Telling

by Caroline

http://www.livejournal.com/users/linabean

Summary: This story could be summarized in the following ways: 1) The fun thing about not communicating properly is that it makes the mindfucks so much more meaningful. 2) Shy about expressing your feelings? Say it with semen! Facials: when you care enough to expend the very best. 3) Actually, not so much with the "mind" getting fucked, and not so much with being "meaningful." Actually, complete smut.

Acknowledgments: Big thanks to Livia for letting me talk out some editorial questions on this and for providing helpful insight into them. Thanks too to LC for letting me run something by her, and to the crazy kids who left comments on the rough draft in my livejournal. I love it when they do that.

Feedback: It's what distinguishes us from fungus. Well, as does, I guess, cartography. Also pancakes. Clarinets... Anyway, my point is, I'd love to hear from you, and if you send comments directly to my e-mail (fannishbean@gmail.com) or leave them on my journal (http://www.livejournal.com/users/linabean), I'll be sure to respond.

Kneeling over his chest, Lex grips the back of Clark's head. The support isn't meant to reassure Clark so much as to make the angle a little easier on Lex as he fucks into Clark's mouth.

This is how Clark must have wanted it. He'd said, "Lex, come on, can't we do more?"

"All we ever do is make out," Clark'd said.

Granted. But Clark is a big inexperienced kid, and Lex had warned him. He'd told Clark that the way he did "more" would be too intense, and Clark had glowered and pushed up against him and said, "I'm ready; come on," and insisted they move from the couch to the bed, and so this is how Clark wants it.

Or maybe not; Clark might have had something else in mind--it's hard to tell like this, with Clark breathing hard through his nose and his eyes wide and shocked, and it isn't like Clark can say anything--but it doesn't matter so much. It's good either way.

It's really good, in fact, watching his dick breach that pretty, cherry-red mouth, and Clark is making little choked noises, but they're the kind of noises that sound more like he's trying to strangle his moans than like he's really being gagged.

And, yeah, Clark is definitely into it, craning his neck to allow more in and working his mouth, so obviously and almost frantically trying to feel more of Lex's cock, while Lex just keeps sliding along Clark's tongue into his throat. And doing that is just so easy, Clark opening for him like he's eager for it, like this is exactly what he's thought about late at night, so, sure, Clark didn't lie to him. The big inexperienced kid had been more than ready.

And there are vibrations around his dick now, Clark giving in and humming his pleasure instead of strangling it, and then that stops in a particular glottal catch that Lex had figure out long ago was what his name sounded like when gasped in the back of the throat.

That nominal little cough is enough, really, and Lex yanks his cock out and grips it with his left hand as he watches himself come in short, hard spurts all over Clark's face.

Lex gives himself a moment with his eyes closed, his still hard cock brushing against Clark's chin as he sits back on his haunches, and then he looks again.

Clark's red mouth is still open, wet, and, heh, the shocked expression from before has nothing on this one.

Lex smiles down at him a little and draws his shoulder back in a minute stretch. "Mm," he says. "That was great, Clark."

Clark stares at him and shifts a little, but it would be hard for him to reach up to scrub a hand over his face with the way Lex is straddling his shoulders. He blinks. "Lex...?"

"Mm," Lex says, leaning over him even more to brush a lock of hair off his forehead.

"Wha--?" His jaw tightens perceptibly, then he shakes his head a little and says, "I didn't know you would--"

Lex raises his brow. "You weren't ready for that?"

Clark comes close to rolling his eyes. "No, I just expected...I think I kinda wanted to taste it."

Lex smirks and rubs his thumb through a sticky streak near Clark's mouth. "You could probably reach this if you stuck you tongue out."

Clark starts to sit up and does give his face a rough swipe. "Lex, why did you do that?"

Lex pretends to give it some thought. "Well," he says. "I wanted to. That make sense?"

Heh. By now, Clark's eyes aren't anything like wide enough to try to take everything in. It's more like they're focused in a squinty glare.

Lex feels the satisfied twitch at the corner of his mouth that, back at school had more often than not given him away after he'd done something like spectacularly booby-trap the chem lab, the same self-congratulatory urge to smirk he'd felt when he'd known he'd earned his dad's wrath, the kind that, any time his dad noticed it, made him dismissive instead. He watches Clark's brow furrow.

"Lex--"

"I thought it would look hot, and it did," Lex says. "You make a gorgeous slut, Clark." He glances over his shoulder at Clark's straining, dark cock. "And it's very possible you like that."

It is, of course, also possible that Clark doesn't like hearing that, because Lex is abruptly grabbed and thrown onto his stomach.

He laughs quietly into the mattress. "You going to teach me a lesson, Clark?" He pushes himself up on his elbows and knees and starts to glance back at Clark. "Because if you--"

Clark's dry palm fits over the back of his head and applies a little downward pressure, keeping Lex's gaze fixed on the mussed sheets underneath him. He smiles. "As I was saying, if you--oh, Jesus Christ," he mutters thickly as Clark pushes his cock into his ass.

Clark is inexperienced, but Lex knows he knows about lube and preparation--Clark had just been bragging about all the things he knew from surreptitious Internet searches. But now, without any warning at all, he's just taken the plunge, and, now, the very first time he's got his dick out with someone else in the room, he's doing it slow, and hard, and sure; and with one large, strong hand on Lex's nape and the other on his hip, Lex can't move away from it, or even into it, no control at all.

And Clark is making him expel a moan with every thrust of the fuck, oh fuck, and that's how it's coming out on each stroke, "fuck, fuck, fuck," but he can keep himself from talking, so he does. Doesn't stop Clark from forcing that degraded, breathy noise out of him every time, but, okay, yes, degrading, it's still so good, this has always been so good, it's always too good, and there's a reason Lex doesn't usually do this, because whenever it happens, his body isn't his own anymore, he can't control his reactions, can't stop this from racking him, fucking wrecking him. He'd never been able to keep himself from being taken over during this, he could only ever get tiny respites with shifts in position that would make the other guy take a moment to adjust, but Clark, strong Clark with his big hands, stops him from taking what little control he's used to.

His cock gets even harder.

Clark won't stop now if he asks him to, even if he begs, because Lex had pushed him, and hadn't Lex wanted to see how far he could go, and this was what he'd wanted, wasn't it, so it wouldn't even make sense to ask for Clark to stop, because he'd set this all up--but no, no, of course Clark will stop if Lex asks him to, if Lex asks him and means it enough. The problem is, Clark would probably stop everything, get out of the bed and go off to his barn if Lex tries to call any shots at this point. That'd be the right strategic move on Clark's part, proving unmistakably Lex's status as a non-necessity.

And, sure, he knows, Clark isn't him and probably doesn't think in terms of power plays, but he's certainly figured out how to press his advantage so far, and whether or not Clark's aware of it, for Lex, after having this heated weight against him, shoving into his body with no getting away from it, he wouldn't be able to immediately control his reaction to its lack any better than his reaction to its presence--his ass would flex around the emptiness left in it, the sweat on the back of his neck would go clammy, and of course all of that was inevitable with the sexual withdrawal, but it's a lot easier when post-orgasmic hormones fuzz the unpleasantness, and he won't get to come at all if Clark stops now, and so, right, he doesn't want Clark to stop, anyway.

And he definitely will come if Clark keeps going, because, fuck, yeah, that's his prostate, right there, there there there and there, and Clark had been reading up on this and must have just now figured out this is the place right there. Maybe he can tell from Lex's reaction, but Lex isn't talking, his lips curled over his teeth and pressed together, so maybe he can tell from Lex bucking into it and trying to squirm away, but Lex can't really be flailing any more than he'd already been trying to do, because Clark is still holding him down and it doesn't seem like he's exerting any more effort at all to keep him in his place--but, yeah, yes, Clark definitely has figured something out, discovered some tell, and, hell, maybe he's even rooting out every secret Lex has got, because this sure as fuck feels like he's being unlocked.

But now he knows something about Clark too, even if just that Clark's about to come, and it turns out there's no relief in that at all because it makes Clark tighten his grip and bite his neck and fuck him even harder.

After a few moments, though, Clark's thrusts stutter to a stop and he drags his hand down to stroke Lex's back, his thigh, and Lex tires to snake his way up to kneeling. He hasn't been left empty yet, but he's free to struggle now--but only for a moment, because Clark just pulls out fast and flips him over, gets him on his back, crying out, tossing his head on the pillow.

And now it's Clark's fingers that are in him, thick and so strong and not gentle, jabbing him, and Clark definitely isn't being gentle, the kid's not sweet at all, he's a complete fucking bastard, and maybe Lex should tell him that, but now Clark's lips are wrapped around his cock again, and this time Lex isn't on top and fucking into his mouth; Clark is going down and down, and fuck that, Lex would still shove himself into Clark's throat, but Clark's pulling him in there himself, and, anyway, Clark's holding him down again, his hand pressed against Lex's hip, and that had better leave a handprint, a bruise that Lex can show off and Clark can feel guilty about later, he'd better feel guilty, and his other hand busy, busy, moving between Lex's legs, behind his balls, two fingers in there and his thumb pushing against him from the outside.

It's not Clark's cock, not as big and doesn't have his whole body behind it, but cocks are stupid creatures, dickheaded, while fingers are incredibly smart, dexterous, they know what they're doing better than--well, better most things, but maybe not everything, because Clark's tongue is pretty fucking smart too, and it wouldn't be able to reach like this, okay, wouldn't be able to stab him like this, but Clark could probably make it do a lot of things, and, after all, Lex has known for a while now that Clark can be silver-tongued if he doesn't have to meet Lex's eyes. He's working that smoothly shifting tongue against him now, all over his cock, pushing it into the slit and, ah, no, the hole's really too small for that, but Clark seems determined to penetrate him everywhere he can reach, and this has been going on forever now, and so why isn't he coming, Christ, he has to come; he jerks his head to the side to glance at the clock and closes his eyes because it hasn't even been more than a few minutes and he jerked off twice before Clark got here--well, how was he supposed to know they weren't going to be stranded out on second base again--and he knows this is going to make him come hard, and, this soon after the rest of it, it's going to hurt.

Clark's fingers twist brutally in his ass and Lex kicks out at him without even thinking, but he's glad he did it and he lets his heel land on Clark's shoulder blade, drums it against Clark's back and slams it down when Clark sucks fucking hard, and Lex hopes that hurt, he'd do it again and wouldn't even care if it made Clark bite down if it'd just leave Clark with a big purple bruise.

Clark's shoved four fingers in him now, fuck, fuck, Clark'd probably put his whole hand in there if--and Lex's leg slips from Clark's shoulder, and he plants his feet on the mattress and tries to arch up but is still pinned, and he comes and it does hurt and Clark swallows around him.

His chest might have seized up a little through it, but now, afterwards, he breathes hard and, slower now, he still tries to work his hips a little, because Clark's still got two fingers in him, and he turns his head, pushes his face into the pillow because, apparently, this still isn't over, but now Clark finally pulls his mouth off his dick to scrape his lower teeth against his thigh.

"I knew you'd taste good," Clark says. Smugness, done in Clark's voice, sounds happy and annoying.

Lex twists a little on the skewer of Clark's fingers and, responding just slightly belatedly, says to the pillow, "I could have told you that."

"Well, now I have reason to believe you," Clark says.

Clark pulls his fingers out, spreading his come over Lex's skin, against his asshole.

"You'd better sleep with one eye open, Clark," Lex says.

Clark snorts softly. "You're the one who's about to fall asleep."

That isn't true; Lex is just drifting.

Clark's voice again. "You're already asleep, aren't you."

No, he says, or maybe just means to say. Because he's already falling backwards into it, into a dream where he can already feel Clark's fingers in him again, not ratcheting up the heat this time, but warming him, rocking him further into sleep instead of rousing him.

Or maybe that part isn't a dream because, after all, Clark hasn't left yet, is probably still in his bed and wide-awake. Lex can't be very sure right now how much he should believe is real and how much he should acknowledge is all in his head. At this point, as he's slipping under, it's just too hard to tell. But it doesn't really matter. Either way, it's good.