If Only Tonight We Could Sleep

by HYPERFocused

Lex remembers the soft, plush feel of Clark's lips on his, even though he was unconscious through much of their first "kiss". He imagines that mouth, full wet suction, heat and pressure on his cock.

Those teeth - ultra bright smile. He aims to get close up, arousal building to a crest.

It's all Clark can do, not to gasp, when Lex's pale pink lips engulf the bright blue bottle. Condensation drips down the imported label. Clark feels it on the back of his own neck. Lex's tongue traces the seam. In his head, Clark does the same to his scar.

Truth be told, Lex Luthor has been obsessing over Clark Kent since long before they "met" that day on the river. He'd found the evidence Lionel had collected: facts about the Kents, strange occurrences that happened around the boy, a bill from a mineral refining company, and a pile of green rocks. Most telling of all, a phony adoption certificate.

At first he thought Clark might be one of Lionel's dirty little secrets, child of some long gone secretary or a disgraced society girl, or perhaps just some whore his father had fucked, and forgotten.

He hoped that wasn't true.

He doesn't want another brother. Julian and Lucas are more than enough, twisted carbon copies of their immoral father. Julian has his business acumen, and Lucas shares Lionel's cunning.

Between the two of them, they soften the blow that Lex takes after his mother. He still misses her.

He does share his father's love for science and pure research. But unlike Lionel, he's working for the common good. His mother would be so proud to hear him called Dr. Luthor.

He hopes she'd be even prouder of the Lillian Luthor Cancer Research Center he'd developed with his inheritance from her.

If only tonight we could fall in a deathless spell Clark thinks; his last thoughts as the careening Porsche crosses the bridge. The cell phone and bale of wire are just an excuse. Deus Ex Machina. He's been waiting for this exit, but too scared to take it himself.

He falls.

If only tonight we could slide into deep black water and breathe. Lex can't stop the car. He sees the boy on the bridge, hunched shoulders, and red backpack. He's never spoken to Clark. They don't run in the same circles, but he feels like he knows him.

He's sinking in an endless space. Lex should be scared. He should be trying to breathe. He should be scrambling for an opening, an exit from the waterlogged car. Instead, he finds himself nearly numb.

He's waiting for something to happen. He's been waiting for this his whole life. His lungs fill with fluid, and everything goes red around the edges.

He shouldn't be able to hear anything, with the rush of the river in his ears. But his mother's voice is growing stronger, saying "No, Lex! Not now."

He hears her saying, "The boy is going to need you."

Clark is in the river. He doesn't know how he got there, not really. He remembers the car hitting him, but doesn't feel any pain. He can see the man floating inside the car, like the water toys he used to play with as a toddler.

An eternity passes in a second, and he's acting without thinking - tearing the roof off the Porsche, and pulling Lex out. He doesn't know Lex, but already they're connected.

Then an angel would come -- Clark kisses him with the breath of life, leaving Lex sputtering, and spent. They're both sprawled on the muddy banks.

Lex coughs, and spits out what seems like gallons of dirty Smallville river water. He looks up to see the boy, with burning eyes like stars, looming over him, looking terrified, but determined.

He's awake now, and more aware than he's ever been. This wasn't the way he'd wanted to meet his father's obsession.

"I - I thought I hit you" he says.

"If you did, I would be dead," Clark says. It's the first lie. Someone ought to make note of it. It doesn't matter, there will be many more.

The sirens screaming in Lex's head become real.

Clark watches Lex's hands as they gracefully hold a coffee cup at The Talon. He spies them typing reports on the office computer, and expertly gripping the hard, slim length of the pool cue.

With a little bit of his special vision, he can see the calluses built up from fencing, the tiny bump on his left middle finger, from years of pencils, and Mont Blanc pens. He loves that Lex's hands tell a story, unlike his own too smooth fingers.

But when Lex's practiced hands finally wrap around his cock, he can't watch. He closes his eyes - and feels.

Lex woos Clark with a bright red truck that he knows Clark's father will force him to return. He stocks his shelves with junk food, and offers to teach Clark to play pool.

He drinks horrible coffee, just so he can watch the boy in his element, carefree with his friends. He helps him get the fairy princess, because the thought of Clark intimate with a woman is better than no Clark at all.

Clark is special. Lex knows this. Not just 'secret file, paging Fox Mulder' special, but 'proof of a loving God, meant to be mine' special.

When they finally get together, on a rainy night, a few months after the incident, it's more than Lex ever expected, and Clark never dreamed: an experience as new to Clark as that night in the river. Clark drowns in sensation.

Lex's hands, and skin, and mouth are the best kind of rescue. The kiss of life returned, and Clark didn't know he'd been dying.

"Lex dreamt of being inside him. He'll bury us deep in his velvet arms.

"If only tonight we could sleep" -- tomorrow won't matter.

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