Chapter 2: Gym and Showers
Pete dribbled the basketball, eyes shooting left and right. On his left was a wall of blond quarterback blocking his pass. His right was open, but the problem was, his teammate--Clark--was nowhere to be seen. A feint to the right, Whitney lunged, and Pete passed it over his shoulder. "Clark! Catch!"
Where was Clark? On the other side of the court, trying to catch up, of course. He could have used his powers, but in light of the whole female part of the class swooning, he'd rather not risk it. Instead, he ran with his normal gate, reaching Pete in the nick of time and holding his hands out. "Pete! Pete!"
"Man, where the he--ck you been!" Pete threw the ball at his teammate as Whitney body-checked him. A laugh, and he let Whitney help him up.
"He's been checkin' out the girls, man, where you think? He's lettin' you sweat it out."
An angular brow rose to meet her hairline, and Chloe re-crossed her legs from her seat in the stands. She'd conveniently "sprained her ankle", and she cupped her chin with her free palm as she watched her boys run around the court. Didn't they get all grossed out by being sweaty? Boys were so weird, what with their molecular atoms being the same as hers and they STILL wanted to run around and pretend they were earning an A. She had an A and she hadn't sweat a drop. Boys. And their ego's. "Wooo! Pete! Clark!"
Grin that was all sweet sugar, and Clark tossed the ball to their other team mate, Sam Menkins. Sam was of course, 7 feet tall, and easily dunked the point, scoring for.....Whitney's team? He winced, grinning at Pete's face. "Oops?"
At the call of his name, Pete stopped short and turned around, once again getting body-checked by Whitney. "Would somebody please take that boy off my hands?"
"All right, I'll do it. Next time, Kent, it's you and me against Pete and Sam. How's that?" Whitney offered his hand to Pete and pulled him up from the gym floor. "Sorry about that, man."
"I'm suddenly the guy that gets switched around?" Clark mock glared at Pete and sucker punched him in the shoulder a little harder then he intended...wincing as he sprawled backwards. "Sorry?"
She was snickering. Okay? She couldn't help it. The bell rang to go get changed and she rose from the steps, not even bothering to limp towards them as she wore a self satisfied smile. "Feeling better, boys?"
Whitney helped Pete up again. "You know, you should think about life insurance or something around this guy."
Pete snickered as he rubbed his shoulder. "Yeah, man, I know. And yes! Dammit, yes! You gonna score baskets for the other team, I might as well put you on it!"
"Yeah. Feelin' a lot better, Chloe. Thanks." Whitney smiled.
"It was just one. Besides...." Clark grinned as he fell into step beside them. "It was 95 to 14. I doubt we could have scored at the last minute."
Her smile was all sweet sugar, the way it got when she wasn't snarking for everything. A little blush illuminated her pale cheeks and she walked ahead of them, veering to the left to the girls locker room with the other femmes.
Clark caught the blush, and he wasn't sure if he was pleased or mortified....or both.
Whitney thumped Clark on the back of the head. "Dude. Wrong locker room. Guys are this way." He wouldn't have admitted feeling jealous about the smile Chloe bestowed on Clark for the world.
"Hey, it's okay. Clark's just hopin' for a little eye candy, ain't that right?" Pete elbowed him in the ribs.
The sudden slam of emotions and heat from his morning made him blush a beat red, and he could almost....almost, if he stopped for a second, taste Lex on his lips. He'd lost his virginity. Him! Clark Kent, man destined to live a pathetic life of pathetic-ness and virginity....was no longer pathetic! Or a virgin! WOO! He coughed a bit, straightened, and wriggled his brows. "Yeah. C'mon, Whitney...don't you think Chloe's gorgeous?"
Whitney glared. "Well... yeah. I do. But that's beside the point. You're her friend. You're not supposed to be the one noticing that."
Pete clapped Whitney on the shoulder. "Whit, man... you have a lot to learn about Chloe."
"What do you mean?"
"What I mean is, Chloe expects everyone to take notice of her, friend or not. What kind of notice, that's up to you, but man... if you wanna stay on her good side? Pony up with the compliments."
"Hell yes. What Pete said. But....she's more then that. I mean...she's got this perfect, pure personality. When she looks at you, she wears her heart on her sleeve. And...." Clark rubbed his fingers through his hair as he pleaded his case to Whitney, grinning mischievously at Pete when the quarterback turned around to open his locker. "I shouldn't say this, because she'll have my penis on a spear, but....she's a hottie."
"Perfect pure personality? You sure we know the same Chloe Sullivan, Clark? Little blond, bout so tall, kick your ass just as soon as look at you?” Pete blinked.
“Why would she have your dick in a wringer, Clark? I thought everyone wanted to know when people think they're hot?" Whitney graced him with a glance.
A sincere nod. "That'd be the one, Pete." He turned to his own locker, cranking the knob to his combination before popping it open. "Chloe's a feminist. Or thinks she is. She wants to be adored, but if you say a word about how hot she looks...yeah, well. Ask Pete about that."
Whitney turned to look at Pete.
"I ended up wearing my nuts on my shoulders for a week. She reamed me out but good. Gave me this whole lecture about how you don't judge a person on their looks and all that."
Whitney blinked. "But... that makes no sense."
Pete snorted again. "Welcome to the wonderful world of Chloe."
Clark stripped out of his t-shirt easily, pulling down the elastic to his pants and stepping out of his socks as he grabbed his towel. He headed for the showers where more than half the guys already were scrubbing, and mentally told himself that if he thought about Lex in the shower and caused a scene, there would be no masturbating for a week. Hear that, Mini Clark? No nookie! Be a good boy! "You consider asking her out, ever, Whit?"
"Actually.... yeah. Kinda."
Smirk. One for the Clark. "Thought so."
Sam headed in after them a moment later, turning on the faucet nearest the door with his face painted in pink lipstick. He gave them all a goofed out grin, wriggling his brows. "Kelly, Kelly, Kelly. Love. Of. My. LIFE." He chuckled. "Plus, got to see the fine specimens for a sec. Christ. We are blessed, gentlemen. So many fine ass women. So little time."
"Is it that obvious?"
Pete snickered. "We're talking so not subtle here, man. I mean... I've seen freight trains with more subtlety. So why don't you?"
Whitney glared at both of them. "Come on, guys. Be serious. I'm not even on the football squad anymore. I'm struggling to keep my grades up as it is, and she's got straight A's. What, exactly, do I have to offer her?"
Pete draped an arm around Sam's shoulders, following him off. "Tell me, my man. Tell me all about these fine specimens." That left Clark and Whitney alone, and Whitney was staring at Clark, obviously expecting agreement
He watched the guys leave with a grin on his face, glancing at Whitney as he ducked his head under the hot spray. "You've got a lot to offer. Chloe doesn't really look at materiel possessions and status here, Whit. I mean, she hangs out with losers like me and Pete. That should tell you something."
"Yeah, but you guys aren't losers. Even you've got something to offer her, which I don't. Nothing that anyone else can't duplicate, anyway." Whitney scrubbed fiercely at his hair, dragging his fingers through the short, tangled strands. "Fucking floppy bangs," he muttered.
A quick scrub over his body with a small towel, soaping his shoulders and neck as he peered at his....his, well, friend. Yeah....that sounded kinda okay on his mental tongue. A friend. Whitney was his friend, and he begrudgingly liked him. Damn. "You're a good guy, Whitney. You do what's good for other people, you know? You try." Even if you hung me up and strapped me like an animal on a cross, but is that Bitter!Clark talking? No, never. "Give her a chance."
Whitney stopped and stared at Clark. "Give her a chance? More like you should tell her to give me a chance. Because otherwise I don't have a chance in hell with her." Whitney stepped out of the shower spray and wrapped a towel around his waist. "Clark, look... I don't always do the right thing. I've done things that I'm not proud of. Hanging you up. Getting involved with Wade and those guys. I couldn't even hack it in the Marines and they sent me back here because that tattoo fucked me up. I got nothing, Clark. Nothing."
He stepped out as well, wrapping himself up as well as he fell into step behind his friend, dragging his messy head full of curls out of his eyes. "You've got your pride. Your dignity, your self respect. You've got your mom. And Whit?" He stopped and turned to face him. "You've got us. Pete, Chloe, me. You've even got Lex, though I know neither of you would ever admit it. Okay? You just..." He started to walk again, padding to his locker where his clothes waited. "You gotta just let it happen. Life's a written book...we're just reading the pages."
"Which comes back to the fact I got nothing to offer Chloe that you or Pete can't. So you tell me, Kent. You tell me why she's going to waste her time with a loser like me."
"Well, for one, neither Pete nor I have a chance in hell with her. It's a spark, an attraction, and Whit?" A quick glance up through his curls. "She's got that spark with you. I dunno how to describe it, but she goes all gooey and female around you. Frankly, its disgusting." A smile that blinded before it disappeared, pulling his jeans on....suck in, zip.
Whitney slammed his locker shut. "You... think so?" He tried to keep the hope out of his voice. "You really think she... likes me?"
He tugged his t-shirt on and decided to forgo the flannel for the last class of the day...chemistry. He needed a pillow, anyway. "I've known her for years. Of course she--"
"Clark, move your corn fed ass, we're gonna be late!" Light, female voice bellowed through the locker room.
"....do you see where I'm going with the non sparking with her and me?"
"We're coming!" Whitney yelled, slinging his leather jacket over his shoulder. "And yeah. Okay. So no sparks between you and Chloe." He adjusted his bookbag over his shoulder. "Lemme steal your seat in class, Clark. Let me sit beside Chloe."
"...which would look like a set up and piss her off...she'd give me the silent treatment and you'd have her undivided attention." A quick grin as he clapped him on the shoulder and pulled his backpack on. "Smooth."
"CLARK! Sometime before I’m arthritic!"
"We're coming!" Whitney bellowed again, and sped up his pace. "Sorry about that, I was trying to talk to Clark about something."
Pete came up behind Clark. "Race you to class, man."
Her gaze glared for Clark, and sweetened a hair for Whitney, smiling and nodding. "Yeah? What did the manly men need to talk about?" She grinned and shifted her book in her arms. "I needed to stop by the Torch office for a sec and get some homework."
"Pete, man...." Amusement was in his eyes. "I seriously doubt you'd win."
"Just setting up the game for next week after school." Whitney shifted, and caught one of Chloe's books before it tipped off the stack. "Here. Let me help you with that."
"Clark, man... my granddaddy could beat you."
A sweet, kinda blushy smile took her over and she glanced at the ground a sec before up to meet his eyes. "Thanks. I can hear Mr. Goldbloom pissing over the fact that I bent his book bind. Thing." BLUSH.
"Yeah, he can be a pain like that." He met her eyes, and he blushed too as his fingers brushed against her arm as he reached for the other books.
"Bite me, Pete." A grin, before Chloe caught his attention. Or rather, Chloe caught his gaze and smirked.
"Where'd you go this morning, Clark?" All sweet, vicious eyes.
Pete cringed. "So would not want to be you, man."
Clark coughed. Shit. Oh. Dammit. C'mon, brain, think of a good excuse! Cause they're good! and excusey! "Got...some coffee. And...read a book?"
"Beep. Try again."
"I..." OH! Blessed bell! It trilled and he beamed triumphantly as they stopped in front of Chemistry 101, opening the door.
"Saved by the bell, huh?" Pete asked, elbowing Clark as he slipped in.
"There is nothing more sweet on God's green earth than the bell."
"I don't know about that," Whitney said quietly.
Pete sniggered. "Man, you better spend this hour thinking up an excuse for her cause she's like a terrier; once she gets those teeth into something she's not lettin' it go."
"I'm really sure she'll appreciate my answer, Pete." He growled it as he closed the door and met Mr. Goldbloom's chastising eyes, plopping quickly into the seat beside Pete... leaving his open for Whitney and a very surprised, very venomous Chloe. "I'm like a dead man walking."
"Yeah, man, you are. Especially dodgin' her like that... she's gonna be wearing your balls for earrings, man."
Whitney slid into the desk beside Chloe's and quietly put her books on the corner of her desk.
She was going to be wearing his balls as earrings. Or possibly have them done up into a nice charm bracelet. But! Even as she watched him cower at the corner of her eye, here was Whitney, beside her. Ohhh. She didn't feel anything for him. Really! The very quiet sniff at his soap? Just a tickle in her nose.
Whitney was quietly drumming his pen against the desktop as he scribbled the occasional note in his notebook. He was watching Chloe out of the corner of his eye, dropping his glance every time he caught her doing the same thing. Maybe Clark was right. Whitney kept his voice pitched low as he quickly leaned over. "Chloe... can we talk? After class?"
"Do your homework?" A whisper his way as she cracked open her book and shifted on her stool. Page 23. Ahhh. Nothing like Mollusks in color to make her sick. "Yeah...is everything okay?"
"No, didn't have time. And yeah, everything's.... everything's finally okay." Whitney opened his book to the same page, and then flipped one page over, disliking the cross-sectioned creatures staring up at him from the printed page.
Mr. Goldbloom cleared his throat loudly at them and Chloe borrowed a page from his notebook, scrawling on it in her dainty female handwriting, 'You sound like Clark now. Mystery science theater presents Whitney Fordman, of the class Evasive-Male.’ She was smiling as she passed it to him.
Whitney turned the strangled laugh into a cough, and then scrawled back on the bottom of the page. 'No mystery this time. Sorry, Scooby. Just wondering if you'd like to have coffee with me this afternoon.'
Pete was so glad to be in the back of the class as he kicked Clark. "What, we back in third grade now, passin' notes?"
She never in a trillion years thought she would have blushed the beet red she was now blushing. She bit the end of her pen lightly, before scribbling back, 'Coffee sounds great, but I should warn you now. Chloe on a sugar high is a force to be reckoned with.'
Whitney tapped his teeth with the tip of his pen before scribbling back. 'I think I can handle that.'
The Smile Of The Thousand Teeth and Clark winked. "We have a right to pass notes. Remember...high school?" He pretended he was listening to the teacher, watching the two out of the corner of his eye... and nearly toppled out of his seat at the look Chloe gave him, all smiles and part glares at him. "Oh. Dead. Man."
"You know, I'd love to see what he's sayin' to her to get that smile."
"As long as its G rated, I'll listen. Oh...." he made a face. "I don't want to hear about other things when the time comes. That just...." He was blushing, very, very badly. "Ew."
"So, listen, man. What's he sayin' to her?"
"Like I can hear from here." An eye roll at him.
"So do your little mojo or whatever it is. C'mon, Clark, man... don't let me down. Put that thousand yard stare to good use and find out what's going on."
"You mean what you told me are my long range eye fuc--"
"Mr. Kent, please continue on."
... "...."
"Mr. Kent?"
"Yuh?"
"The reading?"
"Uh..."
Pete went suddenly mute.
And Clark sent him the death glare to end all death glares, before deer-in-headlights to Mr. Goldbloom. "Uh..yes..." --cough-- "We...yes." Pick a paragraph, Kent. Any paragraph. As it is you've got detention. "The gray salt water mollusk is--"
Coughcough"paragraphthree"cough.
"--is what we just read! Yes. Now...The salt water mollusk mates of two ways..." He read. And oh, he loved Chloe.
Whitney nearly went into a coughing fit. "Mr. --cough-- Goldbloom... can I... go get some water please?"
And Whitney was definitely on her "A-Okay" list. Oh. She smiled her most brilliant smile at him, eyes twinkling as the class erupted into laughter.
Whitney smiled back at her, sinking lower into his seat as he good-naturedly shrugged off the laughter. He just hadn't wanted her getting in trouble for helping Clark out.
She liked this one. Dammit. Last time she'd fallen he'd been a raving lunatic who killed their principal. Now....an emotionally wounded jock who'd lost his girlfriend a few months ago, and here she was, making her move. ...and she totally, totally didn't care. Not now. Not when she felt so warm and fuzzy in her tummy. So she grinned at him until the bell rang, gathered her things, and nearly let Clark slip through her fingers. Lucky she is the Super Reporter, and she snagged him as he bolted past her, rising up as she gathered her things.
Whitney moved fast, catching two books and a printout that fell out of Chloe's backpack as she snagged Clark. He really couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled so much. "If you're going to kill him, don't you think we should move this to the newspaper office? Just so, you know, nobody else witnesses this?"
"I dunno." She said it warmly as she shot daggers into Clarks neck, smiling at Whitney through her lashes as she dragged him to the office. "A nice public jousting would be fun."
"But! Bloody, very bloody, and look. New sweater." Clark pointed. "Chloe's sweater." Then to himself. "Clark blood. Sweater, blood, sweater. It'd be a waste."
"Oh yeah. Just think of the headline. 'Newspaper Maven Spears Fellow Reporter." Pete snickered.
Whitney dropped his eyes. "He's right; it would be a shame to get blood all over that sweater; you look so great in it."
Clark took the opportunity of Chloe's complete shock to wrench free...winning grin at Whitney and a thumbs up behind Chloe's back. He wasn't even looking at her face, and he could almost SEE her melt.
"Thrift store. You know. 2 dollars." She blushed away, bright and happily, before motioning for the boys to follow her through the Torch door.
Whitney caught Clark's thumbs up out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't take his gaze off Chloe. "Doesn't matter. Still looks great on you." He held the door open as she walked through.
Pete slammed his arm into Clark's chest. "Okay. Spill it. What did you do to Whitney while you guys were in the showers?"
He was sure the taste in his mouth was his blush. Had to be. "Little… threatening, some towel snapping..."
"Nothing that would explain this sudden transformation," Pete prodded.
He snickered and kicked back. "You're embarrassing him, Pete. Hush. Oh! Do you have any change? I could seriously use a cock." ... Did that come out of him? No. It didn't. Except he was blushing furiously and standing and digging in his pocket for change and turning to the door. "Coke. Orange soda, maybe. I'll be right back."
Pete blinked furiously at Clark, then turned back to Whitney and Chloe. "Did he just say he could use a cock?"
"It's a... whaddyacallit.... Freudian slip." Whitney nodded.
She watched her huge mountain of a friend escape and her eyebrows knit. "What in the world?"
"Looks like Clark's going on a cock hunt." Pete dropped into the chair, already thinking up all the ways he could tease Clark about this latest slip of his tongue.
"Pete." She shot him a look, and brushed off her friend's strange behavior to save him embarrassment from the other two bungling fools she called friends. And possible, boyfriend. "Have you guys read today's paper? They said that "Signs" is the highest grossing film of the summer. We've got to go see it. Nothing like creepy aliens, you know?"
"Can't do it, Chloe, sorry." Pete grinned broadly. "Sam's hookin' me up this weekend with a couple of girls Kelly knows."
"I'll take you," Whitney offered. "I haven't seen it yet."
"'Couple of girls'? I'll pretend you used the singular form of that and move on." She grinned cheesily at Whitney as she finished printing out the trial of the paper for her to edit over the weekend. "I'll be glad to go, Whitney."
Whitney smiled broadly. "You want to go tonight? I can pick you up after I close the store, and we can catch the late show."
"Ohhh...I dunno. I should tell you I'm a total wimp and probably wouldn't leave your side for the whole night.."
"And you say that like it's a bad thing. C'mon. You're not a wimp, Chloe. You're one of the bravest people I know."
~ * ~ * ~
Hello, welcomed cool plastic soda machine. Christ. Clark thunked his head against the illuminated cover of it and wondered when it was he lost his mind.
"Hello, Clark. When the new principal called and said that she needed to replace the vending machines, I didn't realize it was because of student vandalism." Lex leaned casually against the door frame.
He was sure he jumped a quarter mile, turning huge eyes on him as he tried to not show the avid arousal he'd gotten from the circulating thoughts of his slip. Cock. Lex's. Then suddenly, Lex, and ohh. Bad, bad for his body. "Lex...I..." He cleared his throat. "What're you doing here?"
"LuthorCorp subcontracts out the schools vending machine contracts; it's good publicity and my father gets another philanthropist plaque to hang on his wall for subsidizing schools and defraying the cost of feeding the students. Like I said, she wanted to talk to me about replacing some of the older machines. I told her I wanted to look at them first."
"Huh? Oh!" He slapped a palm against the old, yellowed plastic so he wouldn't tear his friends clothes off, and since when had wanting become painful? "They're old. This one’s kinda rickety. And the Dr Pepper button doesn't work. Or...the Pepsi. Or the cock." ....He needed a medal. Really. "Coke. Coke button. Doesn't work. Cherry Pepsi either. This one over here..." He pointed to a machine filled with tropical juices. "That ones stuck and you can’t get a Raspberry Apple thingie without getting both a pink lemonade and a purple one that's gross. Three, for the price of one."
Lex just smirked as Clark slipped with the cock. "The cock doesn't work?" he questioned teasingly as he moved towards the machines. "I'll have our contractor come and replace the machine. Any preference? And Clark... I'm sorry, but Cock just isn't a flavor that comes in these machines."
He looked so torn, so embarrassed, so mortified. "I-I...y... yeah, I.. .I-I k… know..." He rubbed the back of his neck furiously, looking at anything but Lex. "But it'd be a good idea to get them." ....Oh my god. "New ones!" He quickly corrected, and wondered vaguely if he'd get a power where he could actually open up a hole in the earth and crawl in.
The smirk that Lex was fighting so hard finally spread over his face. "I need a new cock? You don't like the one I have?"
And there it was. He flushed crimson, looking at him in a mixture of disbelief and desire and embarrassment, and couldn't even stutter out an appropriate come back, simply stuttering out another. "N-new... machines. New… ones. O-Ones. I...I like...like your cock. The... the way i-it... it, you know. Is." Weren't Lex's shoes interesting?
Lex's smirk softened into a real smile. "I know, Clark. I shouldn't tease you like this. It's not fair." He walked over to Clark, leaning against the same machine so that their bodies didn't quite touch. "If it's any consolation, I feel the same way."
And having Lex so close in an abandoned hallway with his friends just a dozen feet away was doing bad, bad, BAD things for his libido. Bad. "I....I....I know. Cause..." He took Lex's wrist and led it under his shirt to the bulge in his jeans, shifting a little and biting his lip hard. "Seeing you...and...I was thinking about you, you know?"
Lex shaped his hand to the hard bulge in Clark's jeans. "I see that, Clark." He smiled softly as his free hand caught Clark's and led it to his own bulge. "And when I said I felt the same way, I wasn't kidding." Lex gently stroked Clark's shaft through his jeans, knowing the boy was commando and was feeling every touch.
Oh. Yes, well. He let his eyes roll back, biting his lip a little as the hard heat in his hand seemed to burn his flesh. Lex was hard....because of him. And wasn't that a thrill? It traveled from his hand to his balls in an instant and he stroked upwards just a little...just to tease. Just to kick that thrill up a notch, as he stroked the heat in front of him with the back of his fingers. "Bad. You are very, ver...very bad. Bad. Is what we're doing." Breathless.
Lex thrust shallowly into Clark's teasing strokes. "Bad... bad is me stopping... like this... and then walking away," he continued, pulling back from Clark and stepping just out of the boy's personal space. Then he unzipped his slacks and reached inside, obviously fondling himself. "This... this is bad, Clark."
Oh. Loud whimper for 100, Alex. He thrust into the air for a moment before trying in vain to control his hips, slapping a hand against the plastic machine to calm his screaming nerves. Lex was standing here, shielded by his body, touching himself in a public place and it was so naughty he had to bite his lip tight to keep in the noise. "Bad. Badbadbad." He murmured it, watching with hungry eyes.
Lex merely smiled and brought his cock out, the head peeping through the opened fly as Lex fisted himself, scarred lower lip sucked between his teeth as he stroked. Eyes slitted, he pushed hungrily into his own hand, precome slicking his fist and making a tight wet tunnel for his cock to fuck as he raised his eyes to meet Clark's.
His mouth was hanging open. He desperately wanted to touch but almost couldn't... watching in stunned awe as Lex stood there, like the shameless poster boy he was, and fucked into his fist. Naked. There, in the hallway. ....he was never going to be able to buy soda again. "L...Lex..." His voice was a surprise to him...broken and husky and deep. "Lex..."
Lex paused in his stroking. "Clark." His own voice was tight, pitched low for the sake of privacy and throaty.
"I cant...believe you're...so fucking hot...like...like a dream..." He groaned quietly and stepped closer, so he could at least feel the sweet breath on his skin.
Lex's free hand shot out and locked on the back of Clark's neck, squeezing tightly. "I'm not a dream, Clark." He started stroking again, kissing Clark and fucking the boy's mouth briefly with his tongue before letting him go and stepping back against the wall, keeping the same space between himself and Clark as he shielded himself in the small alcove.
He was going to come. He knew it. He could feel it, when the ruthless mouth attacked his, seeking heat and desire and warmth, even as he watched Lex's eyes go dark and stormy with impending orgasm. He stroked himself through his pants, watching Lex like a wet dream come true and they shouldn't, shouldn't--
"Clark?"
He froze. Oh, shit. He gazed into Lex's eyes, and expected to feel embarrassment. Instead...all he felt was a hot rush between his thighs, coming blindingly hard and silent, biting his lower lip tightly as he squeezed his eyes shut. "Y...yeah...Ch…Chloe, I'm..." He could feel her a few feet behind him, and he stared at Lex with want and pleasure and the stamina of a teenaged boy.
Lex bit his lip in frustration and quickly tucked himself away, pasting a companionable smile on his face. "I'm sorry to have kept you so long, Clark. Your help in this situation was... invaluable. Ms. Sullivan," Lex greeted coolly, moving to offer his hand in greeting. "I didn't realize you were waiting on Clark or I wouldn't have kept him so long."
"Hey Lex..." She shook his hand lightly, peering over his slim shoulder at a disheveled Clark. "You alright, Clark?"
"Ne...never, um. Better. I'm gonna go use the bathroom. I…I'll be right back." And he skeddaddled away, leaving the two in the hallway.
"What brings you to our school, Lex?" She asked it sweetly, noting the tension, thick in the air, and wondering what it was all about in the back of her mind.
"Ms. Glover wants to replace the vending machines over the coming three-day weekend," Lex explained smoothly. "Since LuthorCorp subcontracts out the vending machine contracts, she called me to have them replaced. I wanted to look at them first, and Clark was generous enough to give me a rundown of the problems." His answer was just as blandly professional as hers was sickeningly sweet.
She nodded a bit, noticing his carefully professional tone...and with Lex, she had felt like maybe they'd been making progress in the way of being...maybe acquaintances. Now? Not so much. "Is this the first time you've done it?"
Lex almost cracked a smile in answer to that. This actually was the first time he'd jacked off in a high school hallway for his lover. But he knew that wasn't what she was asking about. "Yes, actually, it is. The last time the machines were replaced, it happened before I came to Smallville and my father's dr--assistant, Dominic, handled it. Which is, I'm sure, why we're having problems with the machines now."
"Problems...is definitely something you could say. No one really uses them, cause they're a big piece of shit." She said it matter of factly, crossing her arms lightly over her chest. "Is their something going on with Clark that I need to know about?" Question. Left field. She tipped her head and rose a brow.
"Well, at least we can get that taken care of." Then he raised a brow in return, and did let a small smile out. "Problem with Clark? Not that I know of, why do you ask?"
"He's been acting very weird since yesterday, and I'm wondering if you've done something to upset him. Because then, well, Mr. Luthor, I mean this in the best possible way, but I'm going to have to kick your ass."
Lex stiffened at that. Fuck. Clark had to be having regrets. And he'd just been pushing himself onto Clark again. Double fuck. Maybe this trip to Metropolis tomorrow was just what he needed. Give himself and Clark both time to think. "Ms. Sullivan, to my knowledge, I've done nothing that upset Clark."
She harrumphed and crossed her arms tighter around her. "Not upset… he... he's just acting strange. And making slips he shouldn't be."
"Slips?" Lex asked gruffly.
"Slips. All day. And he disappeared for hours this morning and wouldn't tell me why. So naturally, I'm a little worried, as friends are want to do when they've got a friend who can't sit still at his desk for ten minutes straight, okay?"
"Clark's never been known for his attention span. At least, not as long as I've known him," Lex pointed out. Disappearing he knew about, but refused to tell Chloe.
She frowned at him...then took on an expressionless face when Clark re-emerged, less blushy and more like his normal self.
"Okay, so. Chloe, I'm gonna go on and head out. Tell the guys I said bye, okay?"
Absent nod and she uncrossed her arms, turning and walking away.
His brows furrowed. "What was all that about?"
Lex's brow furrowed as well. "We need to talk, Clark."
Dammit. Gone for five minutes and all hell broke loose. He lifted his bag back on his shoulder from its spot on the floor by the coke machines and blinked at him. "What? What is it?"
Lex scrubbed his hand over his scalp. "Chloe was kind enough to point out to me that you've been acting rather strangely, and she seems to think I'm the cause of it." He deliberately stopped himself from stepping close to Clark. "Do you... have regrets, Clark? Is that what's wrong?"
He's sure if his jaw could drop out of his face, it would have. He stared at him for a good ten seconds, before finally murmuring, "I can't believe you even asked that. Lex...I have no regrets. At all." A beat, and he cast wary eyes at him. "Do you?"
A strained laugh. "Clark, if I had regrets, I wouldn't have stood here masturbating for you."
The words made him falter and he barely held the whimper in. "Do it again for me. Please. Finish. Want to see you c..." Blush. Heavy. Blush. "Come. Want..."
Lex shuddered, and his hand fumbled briefly at his zipper before finally tugging it down. "Anything you want, Clark." He reached out for his friend's--lover's--hand and kissed Clark's palm once before licking his own and stroking himself again. It took surprisingly few moments for Lex to regain his rhythm, finding the hard strokes and gentle twists of his wrist as his hips thrust forward into the tight tunnel of his fist. "Clark... I want..." Lex's voice broke softly. "God, I want to love you."
His backpack was on the floor... he had Lex in a secluded corner of the hall, pressed tight against a wall as he sucked and kissed at the warm lips there for his taking before letting go. He set his forehead on Lex's, watching him jack himself off....memorizing the rhythm as the words washed over him like honey. God, just to love and be loved in returned. "Anything. Anything. I'll give you anything, Lex. I'll show you everything...I'll give you anything you want." He cupped Lex's hand and moved with him, feeling the fingers underneath him as they stroked the hard heat.
"Show me how to love you." Three strokes, and then a fourth and Lex came hard, feeling himself shatter as his hips thrust forward, cock pumping out thick ribbons of come over their intertwined fingers. Lex's free hand snaked up to cup the back of Clark's neck, eyes searing into Clark's with burning intensity as he pulled Clark against him for another kiss, then brought their sticky fingers to his mouth, where he started to carefully tongue them clean.
He was overwrought with sensation, the curling fist of desire tight in his gut as he watched Lex be as open and honest and free as he'd ever seen him be. "I'll show you." He leaned forward and licked a stripe from his hand, groaning at the sensation and the bitter, heady taste. "I'll show you everything. I...I knew...since the first day where you were dead in my arms. Lex, I knew. I knew it then and I know it now." He leaned in close for another kiss...sweet and passionate and chaste and kind. He poured his heart into his kiss, cupping the side of the warm face with his free hand.
Lex accepted the gentle kiss, not forcing it to be anything else. He tasted himself on Clark's tongue, felt the tenderness, was in awe of the raw honesty of Clark's kiss. "I... came back for you," Lex confessed raggedly. "I was flying. I didn't... didn't want to come back. But you... I saw you. Felt you over me. Heard your voice telling me not to die and I couldn't let you down."
"I knew. I knew, I knew." Too close to tears but he couldn't stop. "I knew, when I saw you through the windshield. The water was rushing in and you were going to drown and I could see the terrible look of...Lex, you were so blank. I wanted to....to give you a chance to feel this.." He stroked his palm over the softening flesh of his cock. "And this." A smooth skim over the white skin of his scalp. "Or this." He leaned in and pressed a soft, open mouthed kiss to the left edge of his chin.
Lex wrapped his arms around Clark, clinging to him as though he were drowning again. "God! I... I never felt anything like this before, Clark. It's... it's terrifying and exhilarating and it's all centered around you." Lex pressed frantic, desperate kisses on Clark's throat. "You make me feel, Clark. You make me feel and laugh and smile and I want to cry this minute and it's all because of you. You brought me back to life; you gave me life and you make me alive."
She almost couldn't believe what she'd heard.
Almost.
Chloe walked back around the corner and headed to the Torch office in silence.
~*~*~
Whitney was pacing in the Torch office, waiting for Chloe to come back. He was wondering what was taking her so long to find Clark at the vending machine, and he was really wanting to know if Chloe was serious about the movie this weekend, or if she had just been blowing smoke. He peeked out the window in the door, and saw her walking around the corner. She looked... shell-shocked. He threw the door open, and stuck his head out. "Chloe? You okay?"
Her expression was drawn, tight. Her eyes moved up from the ground to meet Whitney's concerned gaze halfway, and she dragged her fingers through her flippy hair. What on God's earth could she say? 'I just watched my best friend kiss and jack off a dude'? No. God. No. "Hmm? Oh...yeah. I'm okay."
"You don't look okay." He walked out into the hallway to meet her, and shoved his hands in his pockets as he stood beside her, walking back towards the office. "C'mon, Chloe... you can... tell me whatever it is." He figured she was trying to come up with a diplomatic way to blow him off.
"Yeah, I...." She blinked. "Pete left?" She took a glance around the office, and suddenly telling Whitney became all the more tempting. And he was her friend…one of her best, in fact, and she felt very, very weird suddenly cause oh, their were friend lips, and why was she thinking about kissing them? Focus, Chloe. Breathe.
"Yeah. He left about ten minutes ago, said something about hooking up with Sam to meet the girls."
"Okay. Ohh....oooooooo...." She wrung her hands tightly, plopping on the edge of her desk with a miserable expression. "What if you saw something that you shouldn't have seen, cause it would pretty much ruin someone's reputation forever, but you can't keep it to yourself cause, you know, its like trying not to eat a big juicy Big Mac sitting right in front of you?"
Whitney dropped down into the chair in front of her, their legs barely touching. "Then I'd make sure that the person I talked to it about was sworn to secrecy and wouldn't care about the reputation of the person concerned, I guess."
"Whitney, you can't tell. I'll tear your rib cage out and wear it as a hat, I swear to God."
"Chloe... calm down. I won't tell anyone, I swear." He leaned forward. "What's got you so upset?"
"Ohh...ohh...I shouldn't, I shouldn't, but...Clark. And Lex." She bit her lip tightly as a fully horrified expression took over her face. "Not that I don't...It's not that I'm sickened, or anything, I'm so not. But...Clark. Lex."
"What about Clark and Lex?" Whitney put his hand on Chloe's knee. "C'mon, Chloe."
Oh. Hand. Knee. She lost her train of thought, staring at him for a long moment cause, okay, attraction? Hell yes. But the need to tell was much bigger then the need for smooches (albeit not by much..) and she blurted, "Clark… Lex...kissing."
Whitney sat back, his hand frozen in place. "Wow. So that's... that's the.... okay. Wow."
"I take your wow and raise you a gyuh." She bit her lip tightly, fluttering her hands slightly. "Oh, God."
"You're right about not telling anyone, but Chloe... you have to tell Clark that you know." Whitney leaned forward again. "I won't tell. I swear."
She hummed loudly and tears flooded her eyes, and she flapped her hand in front of her face to stop but ohh...they slipped out. Two...three, leaking from her eyes as she let out a sob.
Whitney moved quickly, wrapping his arms around her. "Hey... come on. It's okay." Whitney hugged her tightly.
Ohh and Whitney arms, but her Clark. Her Clark. Her Clark was gay! And wasn't that weird? Because a little piece of her lost hope...and a bigger piece of her was so, so happy. Clark was happy… and she was beginning to think she could get over him and be happy too. She pressed her face into his shoulder tightly, holding on for dear life.
Whitney's hand reached up, rubbing her back, sliding gently through her hair, rocking her against his shoulder. This he was good at; he could do comforting. "I'm here, Chloe. It's okay."
"Whit...Whitney." She whispered it, and...yeah, well, those were her lips sweeping over his neck. Oops. "Whitney...I...I'm happy fo...for him. And me."
Whitney couldn't keep the goofy smile off his face as he felt her lips against his neck. "I'm happy for him too, Chloe. And yeah... me too. I'm happy for you, if you're finally moving on."
"Yes. God..." She looked up at him. "How did you know?"
"That you had a crush on him?" Whitney used his thumb to wipe her eyes. "Wasn't that hard to see."
"No one...no one even knew." Her eyes were huge as she watched him, felt every single touch he gave her times a million. "I'm so...relieved. I knew...I kinda knew. Is that a bad thing to say? That I kinda.....that he was..."
"I knew," Whitney pointed out. "Bet Pete did too." He squeezed her shoulders again. "And no. It's not a bad thing to say. It... kinda makes you feel better about yourself. Makes you realize there's nothing wrong with you."
"You knew? How did you know?" She blinked at him, frowned and tucked her arms around her midsection. "Yeah, I....I mean, I'm h-hot, right?" She sniffled heavily.
Whitney moved around behind her, sitting on the corner of the desk and tucking her against him. "Yeah, Chloe. You're way hot." His fingers pushed stray flips of hair behind her ear.
Ohhhh. Okay. So, she melted, so what? She whispered softly, as she leaned back against him, "Whit?"
"Yeah, Chloe?"
"Pick me up at seven tomorrow."
Whitney squeezed her waist tightly. "You got it. Signs?"
"Lets see Austin Powers, instead." A light nod, and she looked down at his fingers on her waist. "Whitney?"
"Anything you want to see is okay by me." His fingers tightened on her. "Yeah?"
"You do realize if it were anyone but you I'd have their trachea as a wall ornament, right?"
"Yeah. I know."
-fin-