Husk-Off

Disclaimer – DC and WB own them, yadda yadda.

Many, many thanks to fromward, nel_ani and meret for all of your wise words. You rock!

My challenge:

Lois and Clark head to Smallville to cover a story, just in time for the annual Smallville Cornfest -- including the Husk-Off. Lois is a fish out of water in the rural community.

With this I went into definite AU territory – Clark and Lex didn’t meet until Clark went to Met U, for example. And as I was allowed to pretty much do whatever I wanted with the challenge, I decided the journey was just as important as the destination *g*.

Rated NC-17, probably because I’m paranoid.

Clark Kent begging was the most annoying thing in the world.

"Please, Lex? Please please please? I promise it'll be fun. You'll really, really enjoy it. It'd make me really happy. You'll get to meet my parents. It'll be great, I promise. Please?"

Of course, the thought of Clark Kent doing a different kind of begging was anything but. Still, even that kind of imagery wasn't enough to change Lex's mind. "Clark..."

"Come on, Lex. I did go to that boring telecommunications conference with you."

Sitting behind his desk on the sixtieth floor of the LexCorp building, Lex smiled indulgently. "You know very well you only went for the free food."

"And it's just as well I did," Clark replied from the other side of the desk. "I'm telling you, Lex, that Desiree lady was after more than just your portfolio. Another night and you would have been the next John Wayne Bobbit."

Still amused by Clark's apparent need for hyperbole, Lex's smile transformed into a smirk. "Of course, Clark. That's why she ended up marrying Sir Harry."

Looking quite serious, Clark nodded solemnly. "Lucky escape."

Knowing Clark well enough by now to know when he was playing it over the top, Lex didn't back down. "I'm still not going."

The innocent look vanished. "They only do this once every year, Lex. That means it'll be another year until they do it again."

"What a shame," Lex said, gaze falling down to his day planner. He had a meeting with the new head of Cadmus at one, a massage at three...Heiki. He liked Heiki. She had very talented hands.

"Plus, you'll get to meet my parents," Clark repeated, as if that was somehow a good thing.

"You say that like your father has any interest in meeting me at all."

"I've told you before," Clark sighed a long suffering sigh, a noise no nineteen year old should be capable of making. "It was your dad he had issues with. Once he gets to know you I know he'll love you just as much as I do."

Lex's pen, which had been idly hovering over his to do list suddenly pressed down, ruining the perfection with an ink spot. Cursing silently, Lex mused that that was the problem with Clark. He was extremely open about sharing his feelings.

His very nice 'friend' feelings.

Now feeling somewhat grumpy, Lex started drawing, trying to make it seem as if the ink spot had always been part of the to do list. "Clark, much as I've appreciated your friendship over this last year, I have no desire to visit any place that has the world 'small' in its name. It doesn't really fit with the Luthor requirements, if you get my drift. Besides, it's not as if your hometown has any particularly pleasant memories for me."

There was a long, terrible silence from Clark's side of the desk, and even without looking up from his list - now he was circling item three, 'Buy Clark's birthday present' - Lex knew what was going to happen next.

Clark was pouting. Lex still hadn't looked up but he knew Clark was pouting.

"What about destiny?" Clark asked quietly. "What about our friendship of legend?"

Clark was an evil, evil man, turning his own words against him. He was beginning to suspect that his meeting Clark hadn't been an accident at all, and Clark was in fact a specially trained emotional manipulator of young billionaires. "All right," he sighed, because when he thought about it, he'd never been able to refuse Clark anything.

They might as well be married.

"Thank you!" Clark bounded up out of his chair, and Lex, nearly forgetting that he was supposed to still be looking grumpy at being coerced into it, almost smiled. "So, I'll drop by here after college next Friday, okay?"

There was no point in Lex arguing. In fact there was no point in saying anything at all, because he knew from experience that Clark could have this entire conversation by himself. As if proving his point, Clark continued.

"Great! I gotta get back for my next class." Picking his rumpled duffel bag up from the floor, he swung it over his shoulder and then swung a wide grin towards Lex. "We're taking the Ferrari, right?"

Clark had a deep and abiding love for Lex's Ferrari. Not any of his other dozen or so cars, just the Ferrari. When Lex asked him why it was that car in particular, Clark had breathed heavily and said,

"It's red, Lex."

Lex had thought a mental 'of course' at the time. Clark's deep and abiding love for the Ferrari was only topped by his love for primary colours.

When Friday evening rolled around and they were placing their belongings in the trunk, Clark did what he always did - he abandoned Lex, leaving him with the menial labour, as his hands ran over all the edges of the very red, very shiny Ferrari.

Clark oooed and aahed - entirely for show, Lex decided - and eventually finished his route at the other side of the trunk.

Sighing happily, Clark beamed. "I love touching this thing. It's almost as good as being inside it."

Lex was jealous of his own fucking car.

Clark didn't accept gifts like normal people. After he'd saved Lex's life he'd turned down the offer of a new car (though had it been red, Lex knew now that Clark would have been seriously tempted), as well as the offer to pay off the cost of his college education.

"Then what do you want?" Lex had asked, frustrated as hell. He didn't like owing anyone anything.

Clark had shrugged, looking around the expensive restaurant Lex had taken him to in another attempt to thank him. "Nothing. And I'm paying for my own food."

As their friendship grew, Clark had let him start buying things eventually, but only occasionally and nothing expensive. And, as Lex soon became aware, only because Clark started doing the same for him, too.

This, however, was one of the things he could give Clark that Clark didn't even seem to realise - a ride in his favourite car. Something he'd never be able to experience otherwise.

Feeling marginally less jealous and slightly more grateful for his car, Lex twitched his lips up and slammed the trunk. There was something else he could do, too. Stepping away from the car, he threw the keys at Clark. "Come on, Hyper Boy. You're driving."

"No way!"

"I'm very sorry, officer," Lex said, using his best conciliatory voice, when he was in fact plotting ways to destroy the man's career the moment he got back to Metropolis, "it won't happen again."

Nodding firmly but not looking entirely convinced, the traffic cop reminded them to drive carefully before moving away from the window and heading back to his motorcycle.

"I am so sorry," Clark said from the passenger seat. Again.

"Clark, I told you not to worry about it," Lex repeated. Again. As he started the engine and looked for a break in the flow of traffic. "I've lost count of how many times I've broken the speed limit myself."

"Yeah," Clark snorted, "but I bet you never got caught."

Lex couldn't deny it. "Really, Clark. Just be thankful that the car got through this unscathed. Wouldn't want your pride and joy to get harmed now, would we?" He teased.

"Lex," Clark sighed, as Lex executed an excellent and extremely legal move back into the traffic, "you know I don't love you just for your car, right?"

Lex screeched off the road, barely missing the motorcycle.

Three thankfully uneventful hours later, they passed a sign that declared 'Welcome To Smallville!'. Lex actually found it a little disturbing that the sign glorified the meteors that had once killed twenty-seven people, but he'd always been of the belief that small towns were...well, strange, anyway.

And according to some of the stories he'd heard from Clark, this one might be strangest of all.

Dusk had recently started to fall, and in the failing light Smallville actually seemed quite beautiful, which was shattering Lex's memories of the town. Though, to be fair, Lex's memories were nearly all meteor-related.

Clark pointed out the occasional building of note, but said he'd wait to do the grand tour tomorrow morning. Instead he directed Lex out of the heart of town, and towards the Kent farm. Lex had to admit to being intrigued as to what Clark's home looked like. Though he talked of Smallville often, he didn't go into much specific detail and Lex couldn't help but wonder if Clark's childhood has been as Rockwellian as he suspected.

It soon appeared that way, because when they reached their destination and turned on to the Kent farm, Clark's parents were waiting on the porch. A yellow house, cows in the field, a beautiful mother and a rugged father.

Lex had never felt more out of place.

"Come on," Clark said, hustling him out of the car until they were at the steps to the porch.

Bounding up them, Clark reached his parents first, grabbing his mother into a bear hug. As they greeted each other, Clark's father clapped his hand on his son's shoulder.

Still standing at the bottom of the steps, Lex wondered if it was too late to make a break for it.

Then Clark turned towards him, grinned, and said, "Hey, get up here."

Lex moved.

"Mom, Dad," Clark began, "this is Lex. Lex, meet my parents."

Plastering on his best business meeting smile, Lex paused when his feet met the porch and held out his hand. "Mr. and Mrs. Kent, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Seeming amused by something, Mrs. Kent nonetheless smiled warmly as she shook the offered hand. "It's nice to finally meet you too, Lex."

Feeling somewhat reassured, Lex withdrew his hand and felt a genuine smile touch his lips.

And then he turned his attention to Clark's father.

The smile froze.

He hadn't had any significant interaction with Mr. Kent, but even that had been enough to know that the man thoroughly disliked him. More than once he'd called the farm when Clark had been visiting, and every time he'd identified himself after Clark's dad had picked up, there'd been a resounding silence followed by two words:

"Oh. You."

Mr. Kent's expression right now conveyed much the same sentiment.

Lex kept his hand held out. "I really appreciate the fact that you're letting me stay, Mr. Kent. Thank you."

He wasn't sure if his words actually had any effect, but eventually his hand was being shaken.

"Lex."

A few moments later they were being herded inside by Clark's mother, who led the way to the kitchen. Thankful to be forgotten for a while, Lex lurked by the entrance to the room as the family settled in.

As Clark asked for updates on Smallville and the farm, Mrs. Kent checked something in the oven (chicken, judging by the smell), and Mr. Kent poured himself a cup of coffee. Laughing at something, Clark reached for a cookie from a plate on the side, only to have his hand slapped away by his mother.

There was no mistake. He was stuck in a Normal Rockwell fantasy.

"Clark," Mrs. Kent said, obviously eager to get him away from the cookies, "why don't you go and bring your bags in?" Turning, she smiled at Lex. "You'll be in Clark's room, Lex. Clark, you'll be on the couch. Or in the barn." Pausing, she looked between the two of them. "Unless you two are..."

Lex's eyes widened, and he re-thought his previous conclusion. He was almost certain Rockwellian fantasies didn't contain homoerotic subtext.

"No, no." Mr. Kent was standing right there, eyeing Lex like he was about to become road kill. "No, Mrs. Kent. Clark and I are just friends."

"Geez, Mom," Clark was flushing red which was really quite adorable, and...wait. Did this mean Clark was gay?

She was the only one who didn't look embarrassed. "Well I just like to be sure of these things, Clark."

He rolled his eyes. "Come on, Lex," Clark continued, brushing by him. "Need your keys."

Avoiding Mr. Kent's gaze entirely, Lex was very, very relieved to escape the kitchen and quickly caught up with his friend. "Clark?"

"Yeah?" He was still flushed. Which was very interesting.

"You sleep in a barn?"

Dinner was far more relaxed than Lex had expected it to be. It was still occasionally awkward, and Clark's dad kept looking at him like he had laser beams in his eyes, but overall Lex thought it was going quite well.

After they'd left the house to get the bags, Clark had taken him to the barn and Lex's estimation of Mr. Kent had risen dramatically. Clark's fortress was a wonderful thing for a child to have, regardless of their age, and the fact that Jonathan Kent had built it himself was astounding.

Lex's father never would have done that. Would never have even considered it.

Returning to the house, they'd taken Lex's bag up to Clark's room, where Lex had furtively looked for further hints that Clark might be gay, or bi. There were no pictures of girls on the walls, but no pictures of guys, either. In fact, all there was, was...space.

Astronomy pictures covered nearly all the walls. A constellation here, a galaxy there. A nebula, a meteor shower, and countless more images.

"Slight obsession?" Lex had asked, amused.

"I think it's interesting," Clark had shrugged, and though Lex knew Clark was telling the truth, he also knew there was something...else.

"So, Lex," Mrs. Kent - or rather, Martha, as she now insisted on being called - said, drawing his mind back to the present, "we've already heard it from Clark, of course, but why don't you tell us your version of how you two met?"

It was a story Lex was happy to tell. "I was on my way to the opening of the LexCorp wing at the Metropolis Museum when my driver, Steven, had a heart attack at the wheel. The limousine ended up flipping over, and the next thing I know Clark here was pulling us both out." He smiled at his friend, who - as always when Lex brought the rescue up - looked embarrassed. "The flames must have reached the gas tank, because not long after that, the car exploded. I really do owe him my life." Clark was studying his meal with interest now, and Lex couldn't hold back an indulgent smile. "I've never met anyone who seemed so embarrassed about doing something so heroic." Clark was different, without a doubt.

Snorting, Clark glanced up before quickly looking back down. "It's nothing you wouldn't have done for me."

"True," Lex conceded immediately, and began to think he might understand Clark's perspective. Helping Clark wasn't something that needed to come with any kind of reward other than the pleasure of his company. "Regardless, I am thankful because otherwise we wouldn't have become friends."

When Clark's head lifted this time, it stayed up as they smiled at each other.

Jesus, he had it bad.

"Who'd like another drink?" Martha asked loudly, reminding him that there were other people at the table.

Kent people.

Clark's parents. Right.

"I'm fine, thank you, Martha. This meal really is lovely." He'd already praised the food once, and though he meant it, it couldn't hurt to repeat the compliment.

As Clark stood to help his mother get drinks for the others, Lex turned towards Mr. Kent.

Who was grimacing.

Lex tried out a smile.

The grimace only got worse.

After the meal Lex offered to help clean up, but Martha quickly shooed him out onto the porch. A few minutes later Clark joined him, and they stood side by side leaning against the wooden railing, looking out at the night.

Sighing, Lex studied what he could of the farm. "It's really quite beautiful."

"Yeah," Clark nodded. "I love living in Metropolis now, but...there are definitely times when I love being able to come back here."

"Understandable. We should all be so lucky as to have somewhere this peaceful to come home to." Vague jealously flared through him, and Lex immediately beat it down. The poor little rich boy - ridiculous.

"You know you're welcome here anytime, right?"

Turning to look at Clark, Lex felt something disturbingly like...actually, he wasn't sure he'd actually ever felt what this was before. "I'm sure your father would appreciate me dropping by."

Smiling, Clark didn't look away. "I mean it, Lex. You've become my best friend over this last year. And I told you - Dad'll come to love you. Trust me."

So optimistic. So certain. "Clark," Still leaning against the railing, Lex lowered his head, "I want to thank you for inviting me. I know I gave you a hard time, it's just..." Could he do this? He didn't want to but he did, and then the words were coming out. "I'm not used to people liking me. As a friend. I'm not used to having friends who are friends just because I'm me, not because I have something they want."

Clark nudged him. "You're forgetting about the Ferrari."

Chuckling, Lex fought the insane urge to hug him. "You could have it, you know. Not because you saved my life, and not because I'm trying to pay you back. Just because you're...you."

The humour faded, and Clark's voice was soft when he replied. "I know." He moved then, this time actually prodding Lex in the side with his finger. "Come on," he said, stepping around Lex and then down the steps from the porch.

Confused, Lex followed. It was a little chilly out, but not uncomfortable. "What are we doing?"

"Wait here," Clark said when he reached one side of the barn, and jogged into the structure. Lex frowned but didn't say anything, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat as he waited.

When Clark emerged from the barn a few moments later, he was holding something that looked remarkably like a basketball.

Lex eyed the ball - and Clark - suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

"I'm guessing," Clark grinned, throwing the ball up slightly and catching it easily, "that as a kid you didn't have the type of friends you'd shoot hoops with."

Clark did have a point. Lex's 'friends' as a child had been the children of his parents' acquaintances, and there hadn't been much joy in it at all. Lex had never shot a hoop in his entire life.

Still, he couldn't help it when his defences came to the fore. "I played sports."

"Basketball?" Clark asked.

There was absolutely no reason for Lex to feel embarrassed. "Fencing."

He waited for Clark to make fun of him; some joke about how fencing wasn't a 'real' sport when Lex knew very well how physically challenging it was.

Instead, Clark smiled a little. "You have to show me that some day. Personally, I don't see the appeal of a sport where the goal is to stab your opponent, but I get the feeling you'd help me appreciate it."

Surprised and pleased, Lex smiled. "The goal is not to stab your opponent." He waited for Clark's eyebrows to lift. "The goal is to stab them numerous times."

Laughing, Clark shook his head before moving closer to the side of the barn. When he looked up, Lex realised there was a basketball hoop nailed to the side that he hadn't noticed before.

"It's easy," Clark said and, holding the ball in both hands, jumped up slightly and threw it at the hoop.

It sailed almost perfectly through the middle of the ring.

"Nice job," Lex said.

Jogging after the ball, Clark bounced it off the ground a few times before throwing it across to Lex. "Your turn."

Having caught the ball easily, Lex made a show of rolling his eyes before he moved over to where Clark had been throwing from. Trying to mimic Clark's pose from earlier, he held the ball up in both hands and visualised it going through the hoop. He pushed his arms up, released the ball and...

Missed.

Completely.

Lex frowned.

"That wasn't bad for a first attempt," Clark said gamely.

Lex was still frowning as Clark rescued and passed him back the ball. "Don't patronise me, Clark."

"I'm not patronising you." Clark promised, grinning as he shook his head. "This is your first time doing this, right? You can't expect it to perfect first time round."

"I don't see why not," he argued, aiming the ball for a second time. "I have excellent hand-eye co-ordination."

He promptly missed again.

Clark nodded. "I can see that."

This time he retrieved the ball himself. He took more time with it now; trying to get it even more accurately lined up.

It bounced off the board behind the hoop.

Lex kept trying. He was definitely getting better, and occasionally got frustratingly close to getting the basketball through the hoop, but he never quite managed it.

Having moved to stand beside him a while ago, Clark kept giving him tips and encouragement. Finally, Lex knew - he absolutely knew - he was going to make it this time. He had all the angles measured out in his head, calculated how much the darkness was affecting his vision, and knew exactly how to throw the ball so that it would go perfectly through the hoop.

He missed.

And cursed.

This was becoming extremely annoying.

Within a matter of moments he had the ball again, and was lining up his next shot. Maybe if he leant a little more to the left...

"You know your problem?" Clark asked, his voice disturbingly close to Lex's ear. "You think too much." And then all of Clark was disturbingly close to Lex's ear, his front pressing to Lex's back, his arms laying over Lex's and also clutching onto the ball.

The only thing that stopped the ball from falling to the floor was the fact that Clark was now holding onto it. Lex's hands were completely useless.

"Clark," Lex told himself that his voice was most definitely not a higher pitch than normal, "what are you doing?"

"Showing you how to throw," Clark insisted.

"I'm fairly certain," Lex swallowed heavily, "that in what little basketball I've seen," God, Clark was warm, "the players didn't press up against each other like this to throw the ball."

"Maybe you've been watching the wrong kind," Clark murmured, and then - apparently giving up all pretence of practising a throw - he dropped the ball, his arms moving to wrap around Lex from behind. His face pressed against Lex's neck. "Lex..."

Oh, Jesus Christ. Everything he'd hoped and feared was happening right now. He'd known, somewhere, that there'd always been more to them than just friendship, but that friendship meant so much. Sex always screwed things up.

Always.

"Clark," his voice was barely audible, his own hands lowering to rest on top of Clark's. "You're my best friend. The only real friend I've ever had. This..." Clark mouthed the back of his neck, and Lex shuddered. "Fuck. Clark." He'd built up a sweat from the exercising. His clothes were stuck to him in some interesting places, and now he felt almost scorching where Clark was touching him. "I don't want to lose that. I can't."

"You won't," Clark breathed against his neck, sucking lightly again. Shit. "I'll always be your friend, Lex. I won't let myself not be."

It couldn't be that easy. "God, Clark, I want..." Nothing was ever that easy. "I want so much."

There was movement then; Clark relaxing his hold so Lex could turn towards him, and as Lex looked up at his friend - his only friend, ever - he decided there was something perfect about this, after all.

"Barn," he said.

They moved almost like dancing. Dancing badly, of course, but dancing just the same, neither one of them willing to lose any contact with the other. They stumbled into the barn, fumbled their way up the stairs, mouths almost but never quite meeting until they were by the sofa, standing still.

Lex knew he had to do something. The situation was spiralling out of control, and though Clark had surprised him, he was still Lex Luthor and he was never going to be anyone else. So, he took command of what he could.

"We're not having sex."

Clark smiled, his hands rubbing over Lex's upper arms. "Okay."

"I don't want our first time to..." His brain finally processed something. "Okay?"

"Sure," Clark replied absently, his right hand coming up to move lightly over the back of Lex's head. He seemed incredibly fascinated. "I don't really want our first time to be in a barn, either. Ideally," he leant closer, "you'll fuck me senseless in your bed."

It wasn't his fault, Lex decided, that he just stood there doing nothing as Clark continued to grope him. After all, it wasn't every day that his best friend made it clear that he was at least bi, wanted to have sex - and possibly more - with Lex, and then talked like someone who worked on a phone sex line.

Not his fault at all.

He may have been in shock.

Then he reminded himself again that he was Lex Luthor, and there was all that prime Clark beneath his hands and he wasn't doing a thing about it.

Clearly, that had to change.

Pulling out of Clark's grasp Lex dropped down onto the sofa, catching his hand and dragging him down with him. Clark went eagerly, half-sprawling across him, and Lex's hands locked onto his hips to hold him steady.

The angle was a little awkward, and as they looked at each other things suddenly seemed very, very funny. Grinning, Lex realised he felt like a teenager; or at least what he'd always thought a teenager who really wanted to make out with someone would feel like.

Clark shifted until he was almost but not quiet straddling Lex's lap, and it occurred to Lex that with Clark being the taller one it might be easier if their positions were reversed. But his hands were on Clark's arms, shoulders, neck, head, and there was no way in hell he was about to make Clark move.

Hands braced on Lex's shoulders, Clark's breath was hot against his face.

So close now. So close. "What are you thinking?" Lex asked, letting his right arm lower so his hand could run down Clark's back.

Exhaling heavily, Clark shuddered. "That if you don't kiss me soon, I may have to do something dras-mpfh!"

With a statement like that, how could Lex refuse?

Though Lex knew for a fact that he had ten times the experience Clark did, it was also extremely evident that Clark knew how to kiss. The initial shock of Lex's sudden kiss faded quickly, and then Clark's mouth was opening against Lex's, meeting every stroke, every movement of lips and tongue.

Lex was a little surprised at how slow and languid the kiss was; it wasn't about instant gratification or achieving orgasm. Every time Lex's instincts tried to get him to speed things up - despite his own intention of not having sex - Clark would deliberately slow them down. His mouth would move a little slower, the hands holding Lex would be a little firmer until they were just...making out.

He couldn't actually remember ever having done this before.

Lex felt like he was drowning, that Clark was the only thing keeping him afloat and he clutched harder, trying to breathe through his nose, and when he felt their bodies start to slide down the sofa, he had to pull his mouth free. "Leg, leg," he panted, trying to convey that his right leg was folded beneath him and no matter how hard he tried, it wasn't going to bend the wrong way.

Chuckling, breath snuffling against Lex's neck, Clark lifted his body up, removing the weight from Lex. Now having much more freedom of movement, Lex shifted and stretched out his leg, groaning with relief. He wasn't entirely sure at which point he'd folded his leg up but it didn't really matter. He was on his back on a sofa in a barn, with Clark Kent sprawled on top of him.

The kisses were smaller now, but no less important. "So," he began, sounding breathless but actually not caring, "what wonders await me at the festival tomorrow?"

"Music," Clark grinned, followed by a soft kiss. "Dancing." Another kiss.

"Please tell me it isn-mmm...isn't line dancing."

Pulling back slightly, Clark's grin didn't falter. "Dancing."

Great. Lex's hand moved, teasing one side of Clark's shirt up so his fingers could rub slowly over the bare skin. "What else?"

Clark seemed to be having trouble concentrating. "Umm...rides. They open the fairground up for it, so there are rides. And stalls. And...oh, God."

Lex may have moved. May have opened his legs wider and bent his knees so Clark could rest between them. He may also have moved his hand further, working his fingers beneath the waistband of Clark's jeans, trailing them gently over the skin just above the curve of his ass.

"Hmm?" Lex asked, feeling very, very pleased with himself. He could get used to this, he thought. The shift in power from one to the other was intoxicating.

"Smart ass," Clark muttered, but didn't make a move to pull away. Instead, he lowered his head for another kiss.

"Anything else?" Lex queried after they surfaced, trying to ignore how good Clark's body felt pressed against his hard-on.

"Well," Clark moved his attention to Lex's neck. Lex was extremely happy with that decision. "There's always the corn husking."

Chuckling, it wasn't long before Lex gasped and arched his neck. "Corn husking? Sounds porny. Think I'll like it?"

Head still lowered, hair brushing against the side of Lex's face, Clark laughed warm breath against his throat. It must have triggered something because Lex's orgasm suddenly came out of nowhere, hitting him like a freight train carrying enough explosives to level Metropolis.

"Clar-" was all the warning he managed to get out, and then he was arching up, his toes were curling inside his shoes, and a moan was being wrenched from his body.

Clark held onto him, touching his body, murmuring soft words as Lex gasped and writhed beneath him.

When it was over, when he slumped back against the sofa and shivered, Clark was looking down at him with a mixture of surprise and awe.

Lex realised he was probably wearing the same expression. "Well," he said, "that was unexpected." He was too surprised to even feel embarrassed.

"Happens to everyone," Clark offered, seeming to grow several more arms as his hands continued to move softly over his body, as if worried that Lex was embarrassed.

"Not to me," he replied. "First time that's ever happened."

The hands stopped moving. "Seriously?"

The expression of disbelief was really quite cute. Not that Lex was about to say that. "Clark, you know me. What makes you think that any facet of my life has been approached normally? This is the first time I've ever really...'made out' with someone." And now he was starting to feel embarrassed. Before it'd all been about fucking. About sex. He'd never genuinely cared about anyone.

Before.

"What are you thinking?" Clark asked.

Some variation of the truth was required. "That I'm really glad I brought a spare pair of pants with me." Really, having to explain the state of the pants he was currently wearing to Clark's parents wasn't something Lex had ever expected he'd need to do. He wasn't about to start now.

Clark's amusement was clear in the smile on his face, and a strong feeling of what could only be described as protectiveness surged through Lex's body. There was no denying it - Clark was his.

The hand over Clark's ass shifted up, pressing into the small of his back, and the feeling was so intense that Lex had to close his eyes.

"Lex?"

"I'm feeling very much like a caveman, Clark." It was closer to the real truth than his previous answer. "You're lucky I haven't bashed you over the head and dragged you back to the penthouse."

"Be a long way to drag me."

Finally opening his eyes, Lex met Clark's gaze, his free hand moving to rest on Clark's hip. "You're worth it."

Blinking slowly a few times, Clark eventually leant back down to press their lips together. Lex sighed into the kiss, feeling vulnerable but not especially caring,

It could only be Clark's doing. Nothing else had changed in the last year.

Pulling back just barely, Clark spoke against his lips. "Lex?"

Another kiss. "Yeah?"

"You're my kind of caveman."

His laughter was caught by Clark's mouth.

Clark's parents left early the next morning to help set up at the fair. Apparently, in the normal course of things Clark would have gone with them, but because he had a friend visiting Martha had told them to lay in and enjoy themselves.

Lex was almost certain she hadn't expected them to take her words quite so literally.

The moment the truck had been out of sight of the barn, they'd stumbled their way into Clark's bedroom. Lex was fairly sure he'd never been pounced before.

Still, he wasn't complaining. They were alone in the house. In Clark's bed. Which, while not huge, was definitely a step up from the sofa in the barn. And, to his delight, Lex soon discovered that Clark had never been rimmed before.

"Oh, my Gooooooooooood..."

Though it was probably unfortunate for Clark that he'd never experienced this before, Lex was extremely happy that he was the first one - the only one - who'd made Clark look like this. React like this.

Yes, Lex was very pleased that they'd both ignored that foolish "We're not having sex" statement of his. While Clark apparently could teach him about being with someone he cared about, Lex could teach Clark all kinds of things about sex.

Like...that.

Clark howled.

Lex felt decidedly like a caveman again. And really didn't mind.

"I don't wanna gooooo," Clark whined, reminding Lex that he was in fact only nineteen.

"You're the one who invited me, remember?" Lex asked. "If I'm going to this thing there's no way in hell you're getting out of it." It was the principle of the thing.

Clark looked over at him and grinned lasciviously, his gaze falling to Lex's crotch. "No way at all?"

It'd become clear after the bed, and the floor of the hallway, and almost breaking the shower, that Clark was some kind of sex fiend when he was sleeping with someone.

Lex had decided he'd just have to live with it.

The fact that he got to torment Clark at every opportunity was just an incentive.

"Not while I'm driving," Lex said firmly, smoothly changing gears as the Ferrari whipped along and trying not to show just how much he wanted Clark to do what he wanted to do.

Sighing - there was that pout again - Clark looked out of the window at the passing landscape and gave occasional directions. They'd driven around the local area for a while first so Clark could give that tour he'd promised, but now they were heading towards the corn festival. Fair. Whatever it was.

Small towns evidently had very strange traditions, but that fit in with Lex's theory of small towns being generally weird.

When the traffic in front of them started to build up and forced them to slow down, Lex knew they had to be close.

Not long after that the fair came into view. It really was a startling piece of nostalgic Americana. As they drew nearer Lex could see children on rides, families laughing, people dancing (there really was line dancing, dammit), and...he frowned...people doing something really odd with corn.

Going with the slow flow of traffic, Lex followed it into a field on the other side of the road that was apparently being used for parking. Finding what he decided was a good spot after a few minutes, Lex stopped the engine, unbuckled his seat belt, and opened the door.

And stepped into something unpleasant.

Coming to stand next to him, Clark smirked. "I told you to bring boots."

"Careful, town boy," Lex said, closing the door, "or I'll flick this stuff towards you."

"Ohhh, I'm so scared."

Lex squinted. "Are you trying to get me to kiss you in public? Because I will."

Stepping closer, Clark apparently didn't care about the manure. "Is that a promise?"

Realising Clark was serious, Lex paused. This was...something he hadn't expected. In fact this whole last day was something he hadn't expected, this was just something else to add on top of it. "Are you sure about this, Clark? Being with Lex Luthor publicly isn't going to be easy." His father may have been dead for almost five years, but despite Lex's own efforts there were still those who equated the Luthor name with the devil.

"I think you're the one who has more to worry about," Clark said firmly, smiling gently as he moved a hand to tangle with Lex's. "Wait 'til Dad sees us holding hands."

Lex barked with laughter, once, before placing a brief kiss on Clark's lips. "You ever dated a guy before, Clark?"

"Nope."

As he suspected, despite Clark's confidence. "Your parents even know you like guys?"

Clark shrugged. "I think. Kinda. I’ve never really said anything..."

Somehow Lex knew dating Clark Kent was always going to be a challenge. "Okay, then. Just promise me one thing."

Clark's hand tightened. "What's that?"

Lex stared at Clark's body blatantly. "That you'll give me a private corn husking performance tonight."

Clark's laughter all but bubbled out of him. "I think we can arrange that," he said eventually, trying to sound sexy and failing miserably.

Grinning - and actually realising he was grinning - Lex tugged Clark towards the fair. Walking across a field with manure covering his shoe, a hand wrapped around his own, and about to come out to Clark's parents in the middle of a corn husking festival, Lex decided he was wrong about small towns.

They weren't weird.

His entire life was.

And if Clark was somehow able to protect him from Mr. Kent's shotgun bullets, then that life would be just perfect.

~FINIS~