Summary: "It's okay... Clark. You can touch it."
Categories: Humor, Star Wars references
Notes: Thanks to the PLG, for the title which started this bunny going. Scary how our straight bunny boys keep inspiring slash fic.
Co-written with Ghini
Clark entered the dark castle. It seemed rather quiet. Lionel and the staff must be out. He wondered briefly if Lex was out too but then heard something coming from the direction of the den. Music? And not just any music but...
The Imperial March?
Clark shook his head. Nah, it couldn't be... Oh, yeah -- it was *definitely* the Imperial March. His grin widened and turned positively evil.
When he finally pinpointed Lex, it was hard to stifle his laughter. Not only was Lex *watching* Star Wars, but apparently he was humming along with the theme. Rather loudly.
Oh God, this was worth anything he could think of. *Anything*. Now, if he could come up with some way to *use* this... or rather... Clark bit his lower lip. Yes, abuse was a much better word.
He peeked into the room, making sure to not alert Lex to his presence. He wanted to get as much blackmail material as possible. Damn, where was Chloe with her camera when he needed her? Though a part of him was glad this image was his alone.
Oh. Lex was... Clark squirmed a bit. Lex was stretched out on the couch, dress shirt almost unbuttoned all the way. One leg stretched out, the other dangling off the edge of the couch. Then Clark noticed the bottle of scotch on the small side table and the glass of amber liquid in Lex's hand. His eyes were closed and a silly grin seemed to be tucking at the corners of his mouth.
So that was it. Lex was drunk. And watching...Attack of the Clones? Well, you probably had to be a little drunk to get through the movie. At least Anakin's whining.
Clark snickered. Lex whipped his head around at the noise. Oops? Clark considered for a moment to use his super speed, but then again... he couldn't let Lex get away with watching Attack of the Clones all by himself. No one had the self restraint to keep from mocking Anakin's whining. No one. Least of all Clark.
"Clark?" The question was only slightly slurred
"Hi Lex." He grinned, ambling into the room. "Was gonna see if you wanted to do something, but apparently you're busy." He dropped down on the floor beside Lex. "So Lex, never pictured you as Star Wars fan."
"Ah, my young Padawan, that is where you're mistaken." Lex took another sip of his scotch. "Besides," he snickered, "I'm not just *watching* Star Wars."
Clark raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" He chose not to call Lex on his use of... pop-culture references.
"No, I love the old movies, abso-fucking-lutely *hick* love them." Lex eyed his empty glass for a moment. "But *this*," he gestured at the huge wide-screen TV, "this is something else."
"So I take it, you're not impressed with young Anakin?" Clark teased. He was absolutely amused that Lex-- *his* Lex who frequently gave impromptu history lessons on Ancient Greece and war strategies-- was now *discussing* Sci-fi.
Lex glared at him. "Impressed isn't quite the word, Clark. For heaven's sake, I had a hard-on when I first started watching this movie, one words out of that boy's mouth and it completely went away."
"You had a..." Clark's mouth suddenly went dry. Lex didn't just say that he... oh dear. Damn, had the temperature spiked in here?
"-Not even Ewan was enough to get me back up." Lex continued as if Clark had never spoken.
"Ewan?" Clark choked. "You think Ewan..." He was *never* going to be able to watch the movie again.
Lex smiled widely. "Yeah, Ewan's... mmmm." Lex gave his empty glass another mournful look, then twisted around into an awkward position to grab the bottle behind him.
Clark blinked twice, then squeezed his eyes shut. Lex's movement was enough to open the shirt fully, showing a wide expanse of naked, pale skin. Clark swallowed hard, then licked his parched lips. Okay, Lex was *definitely* drunk.
"Something wrong... Clark?" Lex's voice was a low purr.
"Nothing." Clark squeaked, then forcing his voice into something resembling normal, he repeated. "Nothing. I'm just curious to see...ah...what else your thoughts are on the Star Wars empire?" Clark could do this. Could have a normal conversation with Lex without visions of molesting his friend. His drunk *best* friend. Who obviously wasn't fully aware of what he was saying.
"Oh, ok." For a moment Lex looked like he wanted to continue, then shrugged, downing half the scotch.
Clark searched desperately for something to break the awkward silence with. Not that Lex seemed to notice the awkwardness. "So... um, scotch and Star Wars, Lex?"
"No, Clark," Lex grinned. "Scotch and Anakin."
"But I thought you didn't like Anakin?" Clark was confused.
"*No one* likes Anakin, Clark." Lex stated, rolling his eyes like it was the most obvious thing. "I mean, you sit there all excited because you get to learn the history of the coolest villain *ever* and suddenly he's a whiny teenager. How are you supposed to like that?"
"I guess teenagers can be pretty annoying." Clark tried to remember if he'd been particularly whiny about anything with Lex lately. There was the whole Lana Lang thing...but he hadn't really done that in a while. At least, not once he'd come to terms with the fact that the only reason he came over to talk to Lex about Lana, was because he wanted to talk *to* Lex.
"You're not annoying." Lex replied. "You're very of the un-annoying kind." His voice got a little lower. "I wouldn't mind having you as my Padawan learner."
Clark just... stared. How the hell was he supposed to answer to that? He realized Lex was waiting for him to answer. Oh... "Thanks..." Okay, how lame was that? "So why watch it for Anakin, when you can't stand him?" Yeah, quickly back to the previous question.
Lex didn't answer at first, simply kept watching him, lips lightly parted. The air seemed to almost grow thicker, charged...
Clark tried to remember how to breathe. "Lex...?"
Then Lex blinked, the moment broken. "It's a drinking game, Clark."
"Yeah?" Clark was glad to draw in a deep breath, as if nothing had happened. But he also felt a little regret.
"Uh-huh." Lex looked around for his bottle again, this time having put it down on the floor next to the couch. "The idea is to drink every time Anakin whines..." He filled his glass again.
Clark's eyes widened. "Lex... that could mean serious alcohol poisoning."
Lex spat out half his scotch, laughing, his eyes wide with surprise.
Clark grinned to himself. He loved catching Lex by surprise. Still, his body hadn't forgotten the earlier comments. He shifted, trying to surreptitiously adjust himself and move his thoughts away from the fact that Lex still looked remarkably sexy even while choking on scotch.
"So Star Wars drinking games, humming the themes, Lex I never knew you for such a geek."
"Bite me Padawan. Keep that up and I won't show you my lightsaber."
"Yes I do. And not one of those cheap imitation plastic ones either. In fact..." In a move that was much too coordinated for as drunk as Lex was, he rolled off the couch.
Lex swayed a little on his feet before making his way towards the far wall -- to the book shelves.
Clark frowned, but followed. Oh man, it was hard to concentrate with Lex walking in front of him, showing off his...
Lex ran his hands across the book backs before finally pulling out a rather thick volume. He looked over his shoulder at Clark, a smirk on his face.
Clark stared. An entire section popped out without as much as a squeak. He watched in awed silence as Lex opened a small compartment in the wall, drawing out something wrapped in a black piece of clothing.
Lex turned around to face him, a proud grin grazing his features. He reverently unwrapped the object.
Clark's jaw dropped in awe. "Wow..." He reached out but stopped before touching.
"It's ok... Clark." Lex tilted the long, dark purple lightsaber towards Clark. "You can touch it."
Clark reached out to stroke tentatively, refusing to let Lex see how his seemingly innocent words had affected him. Still, it was a wonder he was even standing with the amount of blood rushing from his head and well, settling *elsewhere.* He needed to control himself quick or even Lex, drunk as he was, was going to start noticing that Clark was interested. He *really* needed to invest in looser jeans.
Clark was so involved with his thoughts he didn't even realise when he started running his hand along the length of the lightsaber, slowly encircling and moving up and down in a suggestive manner, until he heard Lex whimper and mutter "...fuck..." under his breath. He looked up to find Lex staring at him and then looked down at his hand. Oh dear...
"Lex?" he croaked, completely aware of how rough his voice had gotten.
"I think," Lex mumbled. "It's better if we put this away." He made a move to wrap the lightsaber and put it back in its place. Clark stared at his back. Maybe the weird vibe in the room wasn't just his imagination.
"Lex," he moved closer, reaching out to touch Lex's shoulder. Lex turned rather quickly, stumbled and fell forward, taking Clark with him.
Clark groaned. The movements of the body of top of him only served to rub teasingly against his erect cock. There was no way he could hide this from Lex now. He opened his eyes to peer into Lex's and was stunned to find his own desire mirrored there.
"Clark," Lex whispered against his skin. "Is that a lightsaber in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?"
Clark wasn't entirely sure if he'd laugh if he tried to say anything. He tried anyway, but all that came out was a lengthy moan. He closed his eyes and bit his lip hard.
Lex wriggled a little. "Clark...?" For a moment they were both silent. "Clark?" Lex moved to get off him.
The wriggling motion wasn't exactly doing Clark any good. Or perhaps it was doing him a little *too* good. Without giving it a second thought, he slid his hands around the small of Lex's back, keeping him right where he was.
Lex blinked down at him, worrying his lower lip between even, white teeth.
Clark couldn't help another moan escaping him. He was definitely not the only one affected here. And if only Lex would stop doing that... Clark strained to press his lips to Lex's, sucking on the lightly bruised lip, adding a little, quickly fading mark of his own.
That seemed to have been all the motivation Lex needed.
Clark found himself pinned to the hard floor with Lex trying hard to explore every little part of Clark's mouth with his tongue.
Moving against each other, Clark carefully slid his hands lower, to pull Lex's ass down, hard, arching up at the same time himself. Oh god, he hoped it would never end, that he'd never have to let go of Lex...
Lex finally pulled back a little, catching his breath, eyes dark with the same desire coursing through Clark's veins. "Clark... oh god, I never imagined humping each other on the hard floor... I'm sorry, I'm..."
Clark was aware of the big goofy grin on his own face, but didn't really give a damn. "It's ok, Lex," he croaked. Clearing his throat before continuing, he kept rocking up against Lex. "How does humping on the couch sound?"
"Ooh," Lex hooted. He leaned forward, breathing heavily into Clark's ear. "You're an apt student, my Padawan."
Clark's movements stilled. "Lex?"
Lex didn't seem to notice. "Mmm?" He kept nuzzling Clark's neck.
"If you use that word again, I swear, the making out stops *right* here, *right* now." God, Lex had been right -- Anakin was *definitely* a mood killer. Not that he was sure he could keep that threat, but he had to at least *try*.
"So..." Lex pulled back, trying to look repentant, and failing miserably. "If I promise to be good, will you show me your lightsaber?"
Clark just stared at him for a moment, before he could feel the bubbling laughter demanding release. As he saw the twinkle in Lex's grey-blue eyes, he finally cracked up.
"I'll take that as a yes, then?" Lex snickered.
Clark pulled him back down, lips a mere inch apart. "That's a definite yes, Lex, now shut up." Still laughing silently, Clark enjoyed the hot, wet kiss, his last coherent thought being that it seemed even bad sci-fi movies had their uses.