Category: Lex, Clark/Lex, PWP
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Boys in showers.
Author Notes: Take insulin now. Sugar shock is about to commence.
Archiving: SSA, anyone, go for it.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Feedback: I will throw myself screaming on the floor like a hyperactive, Ritalin-deprived, overindulged seven year old brat if I don't get any. No, wait. I already do that anyway. <g> Accepted gracefully with coffee. There. That sounds better, no?

The bed was--bouncing. Up and down, back and forth, and Lex had vivid flashbacks of the last time he'd tried sailing. It wasn't an inspiring memory.

"No one can possibly be this energetic at six in the morning."

If there was a make or break in this relationship, Lex had to guess it would be mornings, and he thought hard thoughts at Clark from deep beneath two pillows, a comforter, and a sheet. This was a first for Lex. He'd met morning people before, granted. Often times, he'd considered taking out contracts on them, for the good of society and his sanity.

Now he was sleeping with one, and not only a morning person, but a *bubbly* one. It was almost some sort of poetic justice. Or punishment for being an unrepentant late riser.

Lex speared a quick look from beneath a cotton pillowcase. Clark was smiling. Hair a mess, comfortably naked, very warm, very tan.

Well, he *was* pretty....

"Lex...." Little whine. A puppy-like pulling at the sheet and Lex set his hips flat and locked an arm over the pillows covering his head. It was six. *Six*. It was an offense to God and man. Or at least Lex's sleep patterns.

"Don't you have--school or something?" Oh, what a lovely idea. Remind yourself your lover has *high school* today. Yes. Feed him breakfast, send him off to school with his backpack, and no, officer, I have no idea how the underage boy got in my bed last night. Random chance, really.

Those stains? Do you Smallvillians take bribes? No, I suppose not. And no, I don't share.

Lex smiled and pushed a pillow aside to watch Clark bounce out of the bed and onto the floor with indecent and possibly illegal amounts of energy. Dropped to his knees by the bed to look for his shoes, and Lex was suddenly feeling not only awake but interested in the fact that Clark was as well.

That view, for instance, was worth money. From habit, Lex tried to do an estimate.

"You're pricing me again, aren't you?"

Big hazel eyes and tilted head, and Lex really had to remember that Clark was more observant than the average person. And knew him far too well.

"Habit."

"Mmm. How much?"

Lex rolled on his side and considered the question. And the naked boy on the floor.

"Ten grand." Well, at some of the less--picky clubs. Now, something uptown and a little more private, Lex would guess an easy double. But then, he'd been out of Metropolis for awhile. Prices could have gone up.

Eyes widening, Clark sat back on his heels, worn shoelaces twined between his fingers, shoe dangling. Lex made a mental note to convince the boy to let Lex shop for him. Clark had no taste.

"Last week it was five."

"Last week, your oral skills weren't nearly so refined."

"Huh. Good point."

Back under the bed, and Lex wondered if he deliberately kicked Clark's shoes there *just* for moments like these. Raising himself on an elbow, he enjoyed the view.

It was a very nice view.

"Lex."

From under the bed.

"Hmm?"

"Do you know where my boxers are?"

Excellent question. Lex did a visual recap of the night's adventures. Somewhere along the line, they *had* been dressed, after all.

"Which part?"

The bed shook with the feel of Clark's head hitting the bottom. Lex made a mental note to call the repairman again. And discretion being the better part of valor, Lex pushed the blankets aside and got off.

Timing was impeccable. Clark pulled out, the bed collapsed, and Lex glanced back while rummaging through his dresser for clothes. He was getting far too good at avoiding possible injury. And that bed had been reinforced with steel last time. He needed to look into titanium.

"My boxers are in parts?"

Lex tossed him another pair from the drawer and watched Clark catch them in a blindingly fast movement that never really failed to fascinate him. Clark had tried that speed once during a handjob. The week's impotence that had followed had assured there would not be a repeat.

Thank you, God, because Lex's doctor had been curious how one got first degree burns on one's cock. In the shape of very well-formed fingers. The memory alone was enough to make Lex wince.

"Yes. You were doing your impression of a stripper and I assume weren't aware that stripping does not equal ripping." Pulling on a pair himself, Lex surveyed the bed. No sleep. He was up, at six, with an energetic sixteen year old superstrong high school boy.

So there were worse fates. Granted.

Clark meticulously gathered his other clothing, dumping it on a chair and forgetting it existed. Lex had never figured out that little habit, finally chalking it up to some sort of need for order in the morning, but the maid seemed to like the fact that she no longer had to climb a ladder to retrieve Clark's shirt from an overhead light fixture. Clutching the silk in one hand, Clark went to the bathroom and Lex spent a serious few minutes trying to decide whether to follow or go looking for another bed.

Right. Pretty boy with high energy in the morning in Lex's *shower*. Lex was twenty-one, not eighty. He could handle this. He could keep up with this.

He could really rethink the concept of Viagra.

Eww. Let's not.

The bathroom was already steamed up when Lex walked in. Off-key singing from the shower. It sounded like Jewel on an acid trip. He had to get the boy some decent CDs

"I'm going to regret bringing your parents into the conversation, but exactly how did you get away from home this time?" The mirror was already fogged and Lex ignored it, hopping up on the sink to watch the shower as all musical aspirations ceased.

So, good thing there. Lex shuddered to think of what he'd be subjected to if Clark learned to like opera.

"I told them I was spending the night with Chloe."

And it showed how well the Kents knew their son that they didn't worry if he decided to sleep over with a girl. Or maybe they were aware that Chloe could talk any and all erectile tissue to a standstill if she wanted to.

And had.

"On a school night?"

"Told them I had to study for a big project."

As euphemisms went, that was pretty damn funny. Lex grinned and leaned back into the mirror, watching the slim lines of Clark's body through the thick glass.

"Are you going to sit out there all day or join me?"

"I like the view," Lex answered, sliding down onto the floor. "It's six, I don't have to be at work until ten--"

"There's lots of recreationally-interesting soap and the strawberry oil is in here now. Any reason for that?"

Well, Lex liked to be prepared. Soap could get uncomfortable in those hard--and hard to reach--places.

Pushing the shower stall open, he had just enough time to take in deliciously wet and naked Clark before warm hands slid over his shoulders and pulled him inside, and an enthusiastic mouth was pressed to his.

Another perk--pre-warmed shower, so the porcelain against his back wasn't cold at all.

"Clark--"

Another quick kiss, a little deeper, and Lex slid his fingers through thick wet hair, smelling vaguely of ocean water or maybe some exotic spice. A wet thigh insinuated himself between his legs, and Lex drew in a breath, suddenly aware he'd forgotten to take off the boxers, and wondering why he'd even put them on. Had he *really* thought he'd be going to bed again?

"Too much clothing," Clark mumbled against his jaw, dropping to explore his throat. Both big hands were at his waist, peeling the silk away and letting it fall at their feet, and Lex shuddered as one hand closed over him experimentally, and no, *not* because he was having handjob flashbacks.

Well, *now* he was, and these were the times that he had to wish he could just stop *thinking*.

"You don't seem very--interested."

The difference between Clark and probably most of the known world was that, for some reason, Clark considered it, not an insult, but something along the lines of a very cool challenge. Had actually said that, in those words. And *that* had made for some long, long, long (dear God, what is he, a machine?) nights.

Again, thought of Viagra. No, twenty-one. He could keep up.

The soft thump of knees to the floor of the shower brought Lex's thoughts back to the room, and almost immediately skidded them away as soft, warm lips closed over his cock and Clark began to suck.

So Lex had lied. Thirty grand, easy. Lex would pledge his inheritance and possibly his brand new Lamborghini for exclusive access. Leaning into the wall, he threaded his fingers through Clark's hair and caught his breath as the boy put his education to use.

And just *stopped* thinking.

Clark's tongue sliding the length, pulling his mouth back and licking the head in quick, lazy strokes that made Lex dizzy and wish he was lying down for this. Clark's hands held his hips as his mouth slid back, almost letting Lex out, before a quick and sudden push that made Lex clench his teeth. Beautiful. Perfect. God, a natural. Setting up a flawless rhythm that sent little spots dancing in front of Lex's eyes and his fingers clench in Clark's hair, hoping vaguely and without much interest that he wasn't hurting him. Clark never complained.

Then suddenly, he was--*not* in that gorgeous mouth, and *fuck*--

"Well, that was the idea." Little grin, and my, Lex had said that out loud. Smiling up at him with the water from the shower plastering his hair to his face, hands on his bare thighs, beautiful and serene and very, very hard, and just gorgeous.

Strawberry oil, far corner. See, practical thing to do.

"Get on your hands and knees." Not that Clark needed to be told. He just liked to be asked. Smiling a little, Lex found the oil and slid down the wall--his legs didn't want to hold him anyway. Sliding a possessive hand down the long, lean back, the slim, muscled thighs, and that perfect ass that was just a sex crime waiting to happen. Couldn't help but lick the back of his neck, nudging the wet hair aside, the spray of the shower soaking them both. Biting the silky skin of his throat, his shoulder, cock rubbing right against Clark, Lex couldn't help but thrust a little, and Clark moaned softly, pushing back in extremely impatient invitation. Just *touch* all that flawless tanned skin and really, beautiful, perfect boy right here, right now, and so the fuck what if it's six. He could sleep tomorrow.

Finding the oil blindly, Lex slicked his fingers, keeping them out of the spray, slipping the tip of one into Clark's ass.

"Oh. Yes." Another tiny moan, almost a whimper, and Lex wondered how long he could listen to that. Forever, more than likely. Pushing back against him, and Clark was *always* ready and so damn fast, and Lex wondered, just briefly, if he'd been this energetic at sixteen.

Carefully, he pushed another finger inside, twisting and stretching just a little, and Clark whimpered, dropping to his elbows, forehead briefly pressed to the slick floor of the tub.

"More, Lex, please--"

Not a problem. At all.

Almost impatiently, Lex poured a little more of the oil, hand shaking, slicking himself quickly and then sliding a hand over the middle of Clark's back. Got himself into position easily, taking a long, even breath.

*Pushing* inside and--

"Fuck," he heard himself whisper. Clark's back arched briefly, quickly, a slurred consonant-vowel combination that could have been his name or maybe the latest movie. Sliding back out to hear Clark's protesting whimpers, then pushed back in again, harder, running his slick hand down the length of Clark's back, then sliding beneath to grab his cock.

It was--familiar. Never less than hot, to feel Clark beneath him, moaning and writhing and so hard and so damn *good*. Lex couldn't remember a lover that was anything like him, even close, just for that one thing, that he knew everything Clark liked without thinking, jerking him off hard and fast and knowing he wouldn't last much longer.

"Lex, please, harder--"

And Clark had a really good idea of what turned Lex on in the verbal department, no question. Anything begging did wonders.

Licking wet, slick, strawberry flavored skin and going harder, other hand on Clark's hip to keep his rhythm, and Lex pushed, trying to breathe through the flood of sensation--warm and tight all around him, wet and slick inside and out. Knowing he was murmuring things in Clark's ear and sometimes, he even wondered what he said, what he promised, what he told him, and glad sometimes that he could never remember.

"God, Clark--"

"Lex. Please. GOD...!"

Clark came with a wail that just *did* it, and Lex groaned and finished with a few fast thrusts, orgasm crashing over him with something like shock and pure pleasure, turning him inside out and liquefying every muscle.

And that was familiar too. Wonderfully so.

There was a slow, careful collapse beside Clark onto the floor of the tub, and Lex didn't even care he was getting water in his eyes. He pulled out, then slid his arms around the still-trembling body, pulling Clark close and feeling Clark's hands close over his.

Long, deep breaths, contemplating that the universe was just a wonderful place to be. Even Lex couldn't be cynical during afterglow. He'd tried. And failed miserably. Clark rolled over, winding around him with beautiful flexibility, wet hair beneath his chin and lazily mouthing his collar.

"Mornings are good," Clark murmured, and Lex almost sighed. But didn't. He had an armful of warm, wet, beautifully debauched and strawberry flavored boy in his arms. So perhaps he could get reconciled to six. Maybe.

At least, today. And he could nap during the board meeting, after all.

The End.