Poetry in Motion
            by Nymph Du Pave

            Chapter Four:  The Sleepy-Head

            Lex smirked.

            "What?" Clark asked, suddenly paranoid that Lex had somehow sneaked a peek at his poem.  That would be, well, embarrassing.

            "You have brownie on your nose."

            Clark flushed and wiped at it.  Lex snickered and shook his head, looking back down at his book.

            Clark dropped his pen and crossed his arms, wishing he'd not moved down to the floor.  Whatever insane ideology told him the couch was to blame for his discomfort deserved to be rendered lethal.  Now he sat on hard wood instead of plushy cushion.  Now he sat seven feet away from Lex instead of two.  He was
more than a whole person away from the older man.

            Clark's eyes roamed over the graceful figure.  Lex in his baby blue sweater that clung desperately to his shoulders, biceps and chest.  Lex in his sexy, pressed slacks that stretched, tightly drawn against all the right sinewy parts.  Lex with his sock-covered feet- Clark had yet to see them bare- pulled close to him on the couch, book in one hand, face resting on the slender fingers and soft palm of the other…

            He looked so soft and inviting that Clark had to keep from just closing the distance and kissing a pale cheek.  There was something about a curled up Lex holding his face up with one hand, wearing a slight smile but no shoes.  He looked so different.  Lex normally looked sleek and elegant and so damned untouchable.  Walking with finesse and talking intellectually.  Always with the air of mystery.

            Now he was so close and pretty and, though he was still elegant, he wasn't illusive.  It was the kind of elegance that begged to be touched, to be held.  A kind of elegance that appealed to Clark's heroic nature because he'd be damned away for all eternity if Lex's sexy form didn't just scream a need for someone's- mine?- embrace.  For someone's whispered declarations of love and promise.

            Clark would have to be stupid and blind to not notice his friend's lonely lifestyle and the tolls it was taking on him.  He'd guessed correctly that even Victoria's added presence in the Scottish Castle hadn't done much for Lex's state of happiness.  If anything, she'd only made it worse.

            He's so pretty.

            Most of the fog around Lex's mysterious aura had been removed, pulled back, and it revealed a regular person, not some machine calculating every move, every breath and blink.  The machine that Lex wanted the world to see so that he would be, could be, safe.  The machine Clark had always known was bullshit.

            For once instead of satin, Lex looked to be well-loved cotton, worn and airy, more comfortable than any other piece of clothing.  Been though hell and back but most of the worn spots didn't show, and when they did you didn't care because you just… you loved it too damn much.

            Now if only he could explain that love in understandable terms that wouldn't scare the older boy away or make him feel like a ragged old tee.

            Clark shut his eyes and stretched.  He began a fake yawn and, as expected, it morphed into a real one- it usually happened with him.  He cracked his neck from side to side, picked up his pencil and looked back to his paper, pretending that he was having a hard time concentrating on the words.  He needed to play up the sleepiness if he wanted to just crash on Lex's shoulder.

            Now, how to get back on the couch…

            He yawned again and heard the results of it's contagious influences.

            "Damn it, Kent," complained Lex through his own yawn.  He looked up from his book.  "Are you tired?"

            Clark met Lex's eyes, willing to show an abundant amount of affection.  "Are you going to leave if I am?"

            "Well, yeah."

            "Then no.  I'm plenty awake."  He couldn't decipher the odd look Lex was giving him, other than happiness, so he looked back down to his paper, wincing. Pretending his neck hurt him, he reached back and massaged lightly.  Shifting, he hissed at a phantom pain in his back.  He let his hand travel towards some random spot behind.

            "You're not the sharpest farmboy in the haystack, are you?"

            He looked up innocently.  "What do you mean?"

            Lex gestured towards the couch.  "Would you get up here before you screw up your back completely?  That posture is screaming 'out of kilter spinal column' and I'm pretty sure your parents need you to continue doing farmwork."

            Clark ducked, letting his hair fall forward to hide his triumphant grin.

            Who da man?  He was good.

            He grabbed his pen and paper close and pushed himself up.

            Mental List, he thought.
 

                        1. He got Lex to come over
                        2. He got Lex to stay for dinner
                        3. He got Lex to stay after dinner
 

            Now for part four of his plan: getting into Lex’s lap.

            +_+_+_+_+

            Lex watched with interest as Clark walked over to the couch, seemingly free of all grimaces that would imply back and/or neck problems.

            Could he have been faking it?  Could he have wanted to-

            "Nope," Lex muttered, cutting his thoughts off as he shifted his feet off of the small couch to make room.  Standing had just been better posture for his spine, and besides, Clark wasn't the type to make a big deal out of a little back pain.

            "'Nope' what?" Clark asked plopping down sleepily next to Lex.  In his drowsy state he'd failed to notice the full foot on the opposite side of the couch, but Lex wasn't about to complain.  Not when Clark was this close, so gloriously touching him.  Not when his thigh was not just brushing up against but instead plastered to Clark's.  He could feel the sinews flexing as Clark shifted in the seat, noticed when the boy winced.

            Lex dropped his book to the floor.  "Where does it hurt?"

            Clark looked at him, eyes heavy.  Only moments ago the boy had seemed fine, awake and alert.  Lex guessed that when his best friend crashed, he really crashed.

            "Where does wha- oh, right.  Um, here."

            Clark massaged part of his neck.  Lex followed with his eyes and nodded, wondering if he'd have the courage to go through with what he wanted to do.  "It's from sitting crossed-legged then bending over your notebook like that.  You’ve been down there like that so long it's probably done a number on your vertebrae."

            He reached up and grasped Clark's hand.  Just touching Clark was intoxicating and he struggled to keep his libido in check.

            The boy looked startled at the contact for a minute until Lex moved the hand aside.

            There's nothing wrong with your male best friend giving you a neck massage, he thought wishing he could use The Force on Clark, or at least some convenient pendulum.  Unfortunately both worked only on the weak-minded and easily influenced.  Clark was neither.

            He rubbed for a minute, friction warming the skin of his palm and Clark's neck.  Clark's eyes fell shut.  If the boy wasn't so damned tired Lex would take the action as something sensual, something of a sexually curious action.  After all, he was getting full body tingles from just touching a new area of Clark's body.  So far he'd had to appease himself with hands and arms, cloth-covered shoulders and back.  Now there was the neck and- praise Lex's lucky streak that got the two of them in this situation in the first place- the silky tips of Clark's hair.  They breezed against the back of his hand, tempting, pleading, with him to just touch.  Just a little.

            Lex kneaded the muscle beneath his fingertips, hoping to keep his hand in place, and at the same time eliciting a deep groan from Clark.

            "God…  Lex…"

            The gratified whispers sent a bolt of desire lightning fast to his groin, and he had to stifle a whimper.  Clark saying his name in a tone that close to ecstasy was beautiful, all his dreams ever portrayed him wanting.

            "That feels so- so good."  The last of Clark's sentence became a squeak as Lex intensified the strength of the massage.  Clark took a deep breath and moved closer.  He lay his head on top of Lex's shoulder then nuzzled into Lex's neck.

            Lex stiffened, unsure and ignoring the burning in his face.  "Um, Clark?"

            "Yeah, Mom,” Clark breathed.  “Don't worry.  I'll get up in five more minutes.  That's all."

            Lex smiled at Clark's ramblings.  "Okay, sure.  Five more minutes."  He let his hand pull free and slung his arm around Clark's shoulders, not intending to wake up his friend at all.  If he could stay like this all night, Lex'd be happy.  And if he could actually fall asleep- he didn’t really think it possible- then wake up with Clark still in his arms, then at least a small selection of his dreams would have come true.

            +_+_+_+_+

            Clark nuzzled Lex again, amazed at how much he was getting away with.  Sure he was ‘sleepy’ but Lex was letting him do a few things that Clark wouldn’t allow even Pete in his more somnolent moments.  And Pete got weird when he got sleepy.  Sleepy or drunk.

            So Lex was letting Clark get way close.  Even threw his arm around him.  Sure sometimes it was a friendly gesture, but now?  Each time he pressed into Lex’s neck, the boy’s hand tightened on his shoulder.  Just barely, but Clark could feel it and couldn’t help but wonder if it was a reaction born of careful patience or hidden desires.

            Was anything else on Lex tightening?  Could Lex possibly feel the same?  Could Chloe be right about all the looks Lex gives him.

            Chloe, he thought wincing.  He had put her emotions through a maelstrom the last few weeks.

            In a moment of emotional weakness during a fight with his father, Clark had stormed out to the barn only to find Chloe sitting on the couch, waiting for him with a huge, bright, and utterly out of place smile.  It had withered when she'd seen the tears and she'd asked him what was wrong.  Besides the few powers he’d had his entire life- that later turned out to be the alien thing- Clark had never really been that good at hiding things.  Particularly his emotions.  He’d broke down about a few things and Chloe had merely put the pieces together.  He’d hated the heartbroken look in her suddenly shiny eyes, but she told him it was better for her to know about his feelings for Lex now then in a few months, when he turned sixteen and was available age-wise if not gender.  She knew the first sign of Lex’s interest after that would break anything that she and Clark had managed to form after the dance.

            “Lex’s interest?” he’d asked and opened a whole new ‘can of worms’ as his father would so eloquently put it.  A can of worms that he believed Chloe had completely imagined, but something that he’d no doubt kept in mind.

            She’d suggested that the looks weren’t all that innocent, that more than a sane amount of devotion lay beneath those gray-blue irises.  That the pats and touches and graces were more like desperate strokes of affection.  That Lex invited him over and clung to his presence out of more than a need for friendship.

            That she would know the signs of anything ranging from puppy-love to a full fledged case of the 'head-over-heels' syndrome.

            Clark took a slow breath in and breathed out even slower.  He’d never believed her, of course.  Lex having feelings for him?  A dorky fifteen year old sophomore, barely a blue collar son?  And male?  Easily the least sophisticated person on this side of Kansas?

            Whitney has more of a suave essence than I do.

            Lex was so masculine, so strong- without unnatural, freak-like powers- and elegant.  He was so painfully handsome, so pretty and how could he like someone that was too tall, too big and awkward?

            Clark breathed in and out again.  Still there were looks so hot and so intense that Clark felt body parts melting.  He could always tell when Lex entered a room, especially after they hadn’t seen each other for a few days.  The chemistry between them was over powering.

            One time Lex had to go away for a month.  Trip to Venice.  He’d come back four days earlier than planned.  Clark had been sitting with alone in the Beanery waiting for his friends at a booth in the corner when he all of a sudden he’d felt his body flush and his groin tighten.  He'd just been sitting there thinking about nothing in particular, trying to decide what movie to go to and what to wear tomorrow with his new shirt when his body perked up, his blood running with lava and his head tingling.

            He’d looked up instinctively to find Lex just watching him.  Not moving towards him, not talking with anyone else.  Just.  Watching.  Him.

            He really hadn't been doing anything interesting.  Not above the table anyway.

            Lex had looked down, embarrassed at being caught, and flushed, sending Clark’s already hardening erection into full salute.

            Clark felt himself responding to the memory and breathed in again to control himself.  He held the breath for a moment then let it out, slow and smooth.
He felt Lex stiffen again and, if he wasn’t mistaken, the older boy’s heart began to speed up.  He nuzzled again, but this time with a purpose.  He wanted to feel Lex’s jugular.

            The boy cleared his throat in an obvious effort to wake Clark, but it was going to be of no use.  Nothing but his parents could move him from Lex.  Not even a piece of the blasted meteors.

            Hmmm…

            He couldn’t feel the heartbeat that well, so he decided to move on.

            +_+_+_+_+

            Lex was going through pure hell.  Clark was nuzzling him and breathing on him, breath hot and moist and oh God what Lex wouldn’t give to be a fifteen year old Lana right now.  Lana could get away with anything and, really, being a girl right now would be good.  Very good.  Because then he wouldn’t have to worry about the tightening in his pants.  If Clark continued with his…  Yeah.  Lex couldn’t let the boy continue.  But did he have the heart to wake the sleepyhead?

            “Clark,” he whispered his voice dry and crackling.  Nothing.  Instead of waking, Clark shifted his head down to Lex's chest.

            His breathing hit the ‘critically shallow’ list and when Clark’s arm snaked around his waist and tightened he shivered.

            He’d had dreams.  Wonderful fantasies that sometimes caught him by surprise at work or in the middle of a meal.  Most of the time when he exercised, he thought of Clark.

            Clark’s body haunted his nights with the most wonderful, tantalizing nightmares possible.  Clark did things to Lex, let Lex do things to him that an innocent farmboy would never endure, would never put up with.  He’d pictured making love to Clark in all sorts of different positions, having Clark take him on the pool table, in the gardens and on his wrecked Porsche, throwing away all Lex’s fears that some thing was amiss within the burrows of their friendship.

            That the kid didn’t trust him.

            Clark’s hand tightened around his waist even as his head began to slip from Lex’s chest.  This was becoming too close to his dreams in which Clark teased him with soft smiles and a warm, moist mouth.  He let out a small whimper as his groin hardened at the thought of Clark’s fingers slowly unzipping his pants, lips covering him, taking him whole, a hot wet tongue licking him, satin heat surrounding him-  He couldn’t let this continue.

            “Clark,” he said loudly, wincing at the strain in his voice, the cracked syllable.  He was just thankful Clark was asleep.  Otherwise the attraction in his voice would be excruciatingly obvious, even to his sweet little farmboy.

            He put his hand on Clark’s head, meaning to tug at the boy’s hair.  Instead his traitorous fingers took the opportunity to delve into those glossy locks, long and feathery and soothing.  He felt aroused and at peace in the same instant.  He stroked Clark’s head and sighed when Clark moaned into his abdomen.

            A second later Clark pulled his hand back from around Lex’s waist.  It brushed against the front of Lex’s tented slacks, adding sweet pressure against his swollen appendage, soliciting release.

            “God, Clark,” he hissed, not even realizing the words had escaped his mouth.

            +_+_+_+_+

            Clark’s heart was beating fast in his chest, his mind filled with discovery, his heart overjoyed.

            Lex was attracted to him.  From the moment he put his head on Lex’s shoulder he’d been aware of a change in Lex’s demeanor, and now…  Now here was the proof he longed for.

            ~“God, Clark.”~

            Lex whispering his name like that, with longing and desire, had fueled a deep need within him, one he wasn’t sure how to act upon.  He decided to go on with his plan, achieve his goal before Lex came to his senses and pushed Clark off.  Sure Lex wanted him, but that didn't change who the famous descendant was.  Lex was still Lex.  He wouldn’t make an inappropriate move, he wouldn’t touch Clark unless it was requited, and even then he wouldn’t take advantage of an underage, sleeping farmboy.

            Underage, Clark.  Your underage.  And even then, this is Kansas.  It's not the most open-minded of states.

            Clark wished he’d just had the courage to pull Lex into his lap, let him feel the affect that the older boy always had on him.  Damn his age, he felt older.  Damn the state, he could be careful.  Damn what other people thought, he liked being true to himself.

            Maybe he should have just walked over and claimed those lips for his own, even if Lex refused to covet him and pursue an affair until Clark was of legal age.  At least then they would have been aware of what was between them, and what was to come.  And who said their couldn't be a few passionate, stolen moments?

            Now, however, was no time for ‘wish I had’s and ‘wish I hadn’t’s.  Now was time for action.  He was where he was, doing the things he was for a reason.
He pushed his head face first into Lex’s crotch.

            +_+_+_+_+

            Lex gasped and involuntarily clutched at Clark’s hair, thrusting up just a little.  He immediately felt flooded with a perverted kind of guilt.  The pleasure of Clark in his lap was intense and it was driving him crazy.  All he wanted was for Clark to wake up, unzip his pants and slip his hand in, pulling out Lex’s erection and-

            Clark nuzzled him and Lex cried out, slapping a hand to his mouth.  He was sure he was delusional because why would a sleepy Clark be giggling?

            That's it, Luthor!  Gain control of this situation, now!  You don't want to lose a friend, so you'd better-

            “Lex,” came the whisper that stilled him.

            Oh, God! His mind reeled with the possibility that he woke Clark up with his outcry.  He’s going to see where he is and what I've got going on and he'll hate me.  He’ll hate me, and be disgusted by me and tell his dad to kill me and I won't care.  I'll kill myself before he could say the first thing to his dad.  This is a barn.  I'll find some rope, throw it over a beam, and end the LuthorCorp fortune and future right here, right n-

            Clark nuzzled into him again and Lex bit his lip against the pleasure.  This was too much.  He pushed Clark up off his lap and scrambled off the couch.  He walked quickly to the window, shoved his hand down his slacks and grabbed the base of his erection, squeezing tightly.

            "Lex?"  The confused, groggy voice filled the air.  "Are you okay?"

            "Sure."  He winced at the crack in his voice, then heard the soft moan under the shifting weight of his farmboy friend.  Clark was getting up, possibly to come over and console his friend for some unknown ailment.  He had to get his body under control before Clark came to close or touched him.  "My leg just got a horrible cramp.  Like a dagger in the muscle, you know?"

            He winced.  He didn't sound like himself at all.

            "Sure.  Listen, I have to, uh, go the bathroom, Lex.  You want something from the-"

            "Ice water," he said.  Could he be any more nervous and obvious?  "Thanks."

            "Big glass?"

            He just nodded.

            "'Kay.  I'll be back in a few."

            Lex heard Clark walk down the steps, grateful to be left alone with time to subdue his sexual neediness, but still feeling lonely without his friend's company.

            He thought about skipping out, dropping a note on the couch and just leaving.  Late night conference with his father.  Late night meeting.  Late night flight to Never-Neverland.  Anything to get him away.

            He actually wrote the note.  A 'real sorry Clark, but-' deal.  It hurt to sign his name.  Felt like it wasn't worth the ink to scratch on the paper.  Felt like just it's presence was demeaning to his Clark.  His savior.  In so many more ways than one.

            And I want to make him impure, filthy.  I want to turn him into some little Metropolis pretty boy, desecrated and tainted.  I contaminate him with just my presence.

            Halfway down the steps of his loft he realized what it would be like in his mansion.  Alone.  In his car.  Alone.  Anywhere without Clark.  Alone.  He could be in a crowd.  He would still feel lonely, left out.  Given up on.  And he wasn't.  Not be Clark.

            It's just another test, he thought.  I can fight this attraction.  It'll be hard but for Clark, nothing is too hard.

            He headed back up the steps.  When Clark finally did want to go to bed, he'd get in his car and drive.  It was already ten past twelve.  Clark would want to hang for maybe another hour.  He could drive for more than five or six hours when the sun came up.  He'd gone driving for much longer.  He just didn't want to go home to that damned castle during the night.

            He sat down on the couch and kicked his book aside.  Bending down, he picked up his own notebook and pen.  He couldn't be near Clark because the farmboy was forbidden.  He couldn't touch, couldn't taste, couldn't hold.  He could never make intimate jokes about their sex life because no such thing existed.  He would never be able to embrace a naked Clark in the middle of the afternoon, lying stretched out in his bed, or lie next to the river after skinny dipping, toasting in the warm sunlight.  He would never be able to feel the heartbeat beneath his ear speed because of the physical pleasure he was causing.  He would never have Clark.  Period.

            Lex looked down at his paper and began to write.
 
 
 
 
 
 

            TO BE CONTINUED...