“We’re going to have to have the talk, aren’t we?” Lex sighed, closing the bedroom door behind him and surveying Clark with overt greed.

Clark frowned. Hadn’t they already had the talk downstairs in Lex’s office? Lex loved him – sure, it was weird to realize that, but Clark still felt warm when he thought about it. All his experiences with declared love had been good ones; to love someone, at the Kent farm, meant to love unconditionally, without reservation. Clark felt certain that this was the kind of love Lex had, and even if his parents might not shout out approval, he was convinced that within the bounds of love, physical demonstrations were not only acceptable, but right and good.

“Oh, I love you, too,” he blurted, as his mind stumbled across a possible cause for Lex’s announcement. He had forgotten to mention that, and he looked up at Lex with a shy smile. “I mean, if that’s what you wanted to know.”

Lex closed his eyes slowly, his lips curling delectably and his posture sagging slightly. “I’m…I’m happy to hear that, Clark…but that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.” What other kind of talk was there? They loved each other, they’d said it…why were Clark’s pants still on?

“I meant the sex talk.”

Clark laughed before he could stop himself, making Lex look very surprised. “Lex, I know about … sex. You don’t have to explain it to me.”

Lex inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Well, as bad as public education in America seems to be, I had assumed that much. What I want to know is, exactly how much have you experienced personally?”

Clark blushed, suddenly finding the carpet fascinating. “I – um…I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you want to know.”

He could hear Lex’s surprised intake of breath. “You’re not?” Jeez, he didn’t need to sound so incredulous. Clark was sixteen, for goodness’ sake.

“You remember a couple of months ago, when I had that…rebellious phase?” Clark alluded gingerly, still fixated on the carpet.

Lex snorted softly. “That was a hell of a rebellious phase, Clark. You scared the everloving shit out of me and your parents.”

“Yeah, well,” Clark extemporized, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Anyway, that night I borrowed your Ferrari?”

There was a beat or two of silence, then Lex spoke, his voice raised with shock. “You slept with Lana?”

“No!” The surprise of Lex’s assumption snapped Clark’s attention back to his companion’s face. “No, not her. It was the other girl … Jessie. The one who left town after?”

“She didn’t have to go stay with an aunt, did she?” Lex asked, his expression almost playful suddenly.

“What?” Clark wondered briefly what kind of eighties euphemism Lex was using, then shook his head and continued. “No, at the bar, I met up with her, and kind of ditched Lana, and then, when we left the club, we drove the Ferrari into this field and …”

“You popped your cherry in my Ferrari?” Lex spoke, clearly torn between horror and amusement.

Clark’s face burned again as he shook his head. “It wasn’t me, Lex. I mean, I was high on…on something–”

“No shit – and you still hadn’t come down the next morning, as I recall,” Lex shot back, his voice strangely tense. “Do you even remember fucking her?”

“Yes, I remember,” Clark retorted, his voice rising to match Lex’s tone. “But – it wasn’t me, Lex. I…really regret that it happened like that.”

Lex was watching him, his gaze blazing with annoyance. Lex seemed almost jealous, but that was silly, because Lex didn’t get petty over things like this, and certainly not over Clark screwing some girl when he and Lex had only ever been friends until now. “Lex?” he spoke, ready to defend himself.

“Clark?”

“It was terrible sex.” God, why had he said that? What had he been thinking?

There was a pause, then Lex softly laughed. It was okay. “It usually is, the first time,” Lex confided gently.

“And I didn’t even, uh. Finish.”

Now Lex was really surprised. “You didn’t?” His tone was incredulous.

Clark shook his head. “I sort of…lost interest. Halfway through.”

Lex levelled a gaze that even Lionel Luthor would have taken seriously. “You, a sixteen year old kid, were fucking an incredibly hot girl for the first time, high on some shit that made you act like a crazy asshole, and you…lost interest?”

Clark shrugged, hiding his discomfort with a roll of the eyes. “After she…you know…a couple of times, I kind of thought, ‘Well, that’s all there is to that,’ and I just got off of her and climbed back in the front seat.”

Lex hadn’t blinked in about a minute. It was eerie.

“Will you quit staring like that?” yelped Clark, unnerved. “It’s not like I said that I prefer cattle or something.”

Lex tilted his head a little at this non-sequitur, but at least he spoke. “Clark, I hate to state the obvious, but I think you might be gay.”

Clark immediately shook his head in denial, then realized that he was trying to convince a man whom he’d made out with very recently. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Lex said briskly, crossing the room towards Clark, very businesslike. “Did she suck you?”

“No,” Clark managed, as Lex steered him over to sit on the edge of the bed and pulled Clark’s t-shirt over his head. Then Lex’s hand was on his groin and it was difficult to think at all. He really didn’t want to think about Jessie. He was much more interested in the insinuation that he was about to get his first blowjob.

“Well, then it’s not the best point of comparison, but it’ll give us an idea,” Lex commented, rubbing Clark’s cock gently.

Clark leaned back on his palms and emitted a sound that was halfway between a grunt and a squeak. His eyes were riveted by the sight of Lex’s hand running across taut denim, and he thought he might lose control entirely just from watching. “Slow down,” he gasped, feeling himself surging.

Lex obediently withdrew the hand, then knelt in front of Clark and unfastened his jeans. “Mmm, you’re wet,” he whispered appreciatively, seeing the dark blossom of moisture on the front of Clark’s boxers. Clark would have been embarrassed, except for the blatant hunger in Lex’s eyes.

“Touch me again,” Clark pleaded, his hips shifting forward to second the idea.

Lex looked up at Clark, amused and interested. “Did she touch you like this?”

Clark nodded, his cock twitching for more contact. Jessie had been light, teasing. Lex’s hand, as it descended on Clark, was hot and enveloping. He began to pump Clark slowly through his shorts.

“Feel good?”

It seemed a strange thing to ask, when Clark was clearly enjoying himself, but he uttered a strong curse that spoke for itself. After all, Clark Kent didn’t swear.

Lex stopped again, and Clark whimpered, thrusting up into the air. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” he panted, uninterested in Lex’s actions now that they didn’t involve Clark’s dick.

“Shh, wait a minute.” Lex was rummaging in his bedside table, and when he returned, Clark had pulled his underwear and jeans down in a broad hint, made even broader by the way Clark was taking over for Lex in absentia.

“Hey, that’s my job,” protested Lex with a grin, gently removing Clark’s hand, then squeezing some gel into his own palm. “Trust me, you want to experience this.” Lex was rubbing his hands together, and Clark could see that the gel was wet and slippery, and oh god oh god it was like heaven when that wet warm hand slipped around Clark’s naked cock and began to jack him.

“Is this what it felt like, being in her pussy?” Lex asked.

The word ‘pussy’ was not what Clark wanted to hear at that moment. It stopped him from coming just in time, and he even remembered to shake his head. The sensation was similar, but the way Clark’s blood was racing, the way Lex’s beautiful hand looked, wrapped around Clark…it was a million times better. “This is better,” he murmured. “So much better.”

Lex was glad to hear this, apparently, because the next thing Clark knew, he was watching Lex lean forward and take the head of Clark’s cock in his mouth. His tongue was doing wonderful things, and Clark resisted the urge to seize the back of Lex’s head and thrust hard. Slowly, Lex took Clark in. The working of Lex’s soft palate as it covered the head of Clark’s cock was more than he could bear. With a jolt and a cry, Clark came. And Lex swallowed.

Once the heavenly host had diminuendoed somewhat, Clark attempted speech. “Lex? I think I might be gay.”

“Well, we can’t be sure,” Lex answered, surprisingly unmoved by Clark coming out. He sat next to Clark on the bed, and Clark gratefully collapsed onto his shoulder, still breathing fast and shallow. “I mean, all guys like fellatio. The question really is, do you like giving as well as getting?”

Clark moaned, sure that in an alternate universe, where he didn’t feel like falling unconscious for a hundred years, this point would have piqued his interest. Lex’s lips were traveling over his forehead and cheek, and it felt so good, so safe.

“Come on, farmboy, what’s this make you want to do?” Lex whispered, and taking one of Clark’s hands, he let Clark feel how hard Lex still was.

Clark smiled, feeling the fatigue melting away as he enjoyed the plaintive motions of Lex’s cock under his palm. “It makes me want to return the favor,” Clark replied, lifting his head up and removing his hand. Lex put a hand on Clark’s shoulder, suggesting that Clark should kneel in front of Lex as Lex had done for him, but Clark kissed Lex instead. With his strength, which could not be denied, Clark insinuated Lex back until he was lying flat on the bed. “It’d make me too nervous if you’re watching,” he explained, unbuttoning Lex’s shirt.

“I can kind of see from here,” Lex pointed out, but his voice was quickly losing its smoothness.

Clark paused, partly to enjoy the sight of immaculate Lex looking mauled and desperate, and partly because it had just occurred to him that the room was oddly silent. “There should be music,” he said.

Lex was shivering as Clark stroked his fingers up and down the bare skin revealed by the open shirt. “There is music,” Lex answered thickly. “Don’t you hear it?”

“Are you high?” asked Clark suspiciously, smiling. He bowed to kiss Lex’s navel. Lex smelled like vanilla and cologne.

“Shh, listen,” said Lex, his fingers carding through Clark’s hair. “Just listen.”

Clark couldn’t really hear much of anything over the click of his tongue against Lex’s skin, the hammering of his own pulse, but he pretended to listen for a moment. “What’s it sound like?” he asked, and slid his hands up under the shirt to stroke fingers over Lex’s nipples. “So I’ll recognize it when I hear it.”

“It’s the only music to fuck by,” Lex answered, head thrown back, looking blissed out and lean and gorgeous. “Wagner. It’s the operatic equivalent of a good long -- oh, god, Clark. You have to touch my cock.”

“A good long what?” asked Clark, obediently going for Lex’s belt.

“A good long blow,” completed Lex, his fingers fumbling around Clark’s as they both wrestled the buckle open.

“Why’s that?” Clark asked, letting Lex take over because he was wearing some sort of magic pants with no visible button on the fly.

Lex got up on one elbow and cast a measuring glance at Clark as he slipped out of his pants. “It gets you hot, huh?”

“What?” Clark asked, feeling himself blush.

“Me. Talking about opera.” Clark couldn’t bring himself to meet Lex’s gaze, instead letting his body answer, cupping Lex’s boxer-clad hips between his palms and bending down to breathe in Lex’s scent. “Well, in that case,” began Lex, pushing up into the heat of Clark’s shaky exhalation, “I should explain about Wagner.”

“You should,” said Clark, and hooked his thumbs under the elastic waist of Lex’s underwear.

“Wagner,” said Lex, “in spite of his somewhat unsavory reputation as a composer favored by Hitler’s Third Reich, was a master at expressing the tension of lovers who are denied sexual consummation. His music could go for scene after scene, minutes and minutes of music with no tonal resolution.”

Clark let the rise and fall of Lex’s voice ground him as he took a deep breath, lifted the waistband, and tugged at Lex’s shorts. Lex lifted his hips up to help, and then Clark was -- oh, god. So close to Lex. Hard and long and more like something Clark wanted to taste than he’d anticipated. He bent down and pressed a close-mouthed kiss to the base of the shaft.

Lex’s voice faltered, though his words kept flowing. “Almost scandalously explicit tone poetry, really,” he said, rolling his pelvis up. “Sehnsucht. Eternal longing. Unending denial of completion. Like a hard-on that just won’t give up.”

Clark was definitely passing Lex’s test for gayness in the meantime. Lex was smooth and surprisingly hot. Clark wanted more. He shyly took Lex in his hand and held him so Clark’s mouth could just dip down and -- the head silky-soft in texture, round and slick and fitting perfectly into the curve of Clark’s hard palate.

Lex paused for several harsh hasty breaths, his fingers grabbing the hair at the nape of Clark’s neck and twisting gently. “Ah,” he said, and panted. “Yeah, that’s good. Fuck, don’t stop.”

Clark said it with his lips -- I won’t stop if you don’t.

“Wagner,” said Lex, brokenly. “Probably homosexual. Oh, god. Clark.”

Clark slid down, and it felt so good on his tongue, Lex’s cock flexing and his hips shearing left and right in slow panic.

“There are scenes where -- ah, yeah -- where the doomed lovers simply call each other’s names from across the stage, in this parody of the sexual act. Clark!”

It probably wasn’t meant ironically, but Clark had to smile anyway. He pulled off and Lex made a sound like his biological CD player was skipping. “I can’t say your name if my mouth is busy,” he said, clambering up the bed and draping his body over Lex’s. Their cocks bumped together and Clark thrust into the sensation. “By the way, I’m pretty sure I’m gay.”

“I’m pretty sure you are, too,” Lex half-laughed. His finger-points went skidding down the landscape of Clark’s back, finding purchase on Clark’s ass cheeks. “Should I keep talking about German Romantic angst?”

Clark thrust, liking the unapologetic tug of Lex’s skin against his cock. “No, I think I understand it now,” he said, and thrust again because it felt delicious. “It’s all about delayed pleasure.” He kissed Lex until Lex’s legs came up around Clark’s waist and then they were both moving, finding a single rhythm between them that began a slow deliberate accelerando.

“I’m so glad,” Lex gasped, between curses, “you didn’t come inside her.”

“Believe me,” Clark said, slippery now with sweat and hungry for more minutes like this one, more hours and days when he and Lex held back on completion just long enough to make the ending even better. “You’re the only one I want to listen to Wagner with.”

Lex was almost grinning, expression taut with his imminent orgasm. “Clark!” he shouted.

“Lex,” Clark answered, pushing down and in faster, their cocks colliding and skidding apart again. “Lex, I hear it.” Music like rivers of sound, coiling and building and crashing around the two of them. Voices caught in the nether land between pain and ecstasy. Notes and harmonies striving against each other, seeking an outlet, seeking rest and only finding more and more turmoil, until --

Clark held his head up, met Lex’s eyes, and came. Lex followed immediately, and as they both trembled, Lex stretched up to press their mouths together. Cadence. Resolution.

Silence.

Clark’s next perception was the steady fast thump of Lex’s heart under his ear. He could hear his own pulse, slamming more slowly and heavily in his jugular, and the rhythms set up a strange unsettling counterpoint.

“I know what that’s like,” Clark said slowly. “That Sehnsucht word.”

“Don’t tell me you’re feeling unsatisfied,” Lex said, a smile in his voice. “Not after that.”

“It’s not that,” Clark smiled back, kissing the little patch of skin by his mouth. “It’s just that -- no matter how often we do that…I can’t imagine not wanting more. I’ll always want more.”

Lex was quiet for a long time. Finally, he pulled at Clark so they were face to face, blue eyes intense and warm. “You can have it,” he said. “You can have it all.”

The distant music lulled them both to sleep.

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