The Memoirs

It wasn't often that Joe Reynolds found himself surprised.

He was surprised today. There had actually been several surprises, in fact, and he was less than thrilled with one of the developments he'd been presented with.

Despite the warmth of the day, he was dressed in a stifling suit, and he barely forewent the urge to yank at the uncomfortable tie as he slammed one of his filing cabinets shut.

Two students filing drop-out paperwork, and another sitting in his office, waiting to talk to him about something, and the worst thing was they were all friends.

Well... when he finished speaking with the student waiting for him, Joe decided he was going to pay a little call on Lex Luthor, and see if he could find out just what in the hell was going on, because every one of these kids had been in his radius and now... one had moved away entirely, two more were dropping out, and God only knew what Clark Kent wanted.

He just flat out refused to lose Clark too, and he decided then and there that he wasn't going to let the kid drop out.

He tossed the files labeled "Sullivan, Chloe" and "Senatori, Shayla" onto his desk before sitting down in his chair. I'm too old for this shit, he thought to himself, then buzzed the secretary. "Dot? Send Mr. Kent in, please."

Clark was dressed in his best slacks and green sweater. He was running into Metropolis in just a little bit, and he needed to look his best when he talked to Perry White--plus, it helped that he looked nice when he told Reynolds what he wanted to do.

So the secretary pointed him back and Clark straightened his shoulders, slipping his satchel higher onto his shoulder and opened the door to the principles office. "Sir."

Reynolds' shoulders were held straight and stiff, his entire demeanor severe. "Mr. Kent. Please, sit down."

Clark took his satchel off, ran his fingers through his hair to make sure the pony tail was holding, and sat in the chair across from the desk. He calmly settled down, linking his fingers in his lap.

"Now, what can I do for you?" Joe said, leaning forward over the desk and tapping his fingertips together. "It's your nickel, Mr. Kent, and you're missing homeroom to talk to me now, so let's make it important."

Clark. Hated. Being talked down to. He ground his teeth, jaw twitching the smallest bit, though his face was the picture of calm. "I'd like to request an early graduation. Sir."

"Mmhmm." Reynolds just nodded. "Not that I'm not thrilled to see you taking an interest in your grades and your future, but don't you think you're moving a bit too fast, requesting this on the basis of two and a half month's worth of good grades?" he asked, eyebrow elevated.

"No. I'm requesting this on the basis of four years worth of work I've dumbed down. Sir." Don't forget the 'sir', Clark. "I'd like to take an aptitude test."

"Well, I won't disagree that you haven't been working up to your full potential," Reynolds allowed. "But you're going to have to present me with a little bit of a better reason to call the State Board of Education and request the special EOC tests for you than just, I'd like to."

"I've spoken to Metropolis University, and they're willing to take incomplete transcripts as long as I take the aptitude test and have an SAT score of over 1500. I've also got forms from three of my six teachers, stating that I've never worked to my potential, and given half the chance they're sure I can test out of school." He opened his satchel and took said documents out, pushing them across the desk.

Joe thumbed through the documents, and though he couldn't prove it, he just *knew* he smelled Luthor all over this. Of course they were prepared impeccably, and he sighed, rapping them on the side of the desk. "All right, Clark. I'll file the forms with the Board of Education, and I'll let you know as soon as I hear back from them. It should be by the end of the day tomorrow at the latest." He sighed. "Now with that out of the way, are you sure this is what you want to do? You're going to be missing out on a lot of things if you leave high school now."

"I'm positive, sir." Clark didn't answer anymore, simply pushing his chair back and rising, offering his hand for a handshake. "Thank you."

Joe reached out to shake Clark's hand. "Sit back down, young man," he said. "I have a few more questions for you."

Damn. Fuck. DAMN. "All right." He settled back in the chair. "Though I can't guarantee I'll answer them."

"That's quite all right. They're all off the record, if that helps, merely because I know you're friends with two of the students I'm concerned about," he said. "Chloe Sullivan and Shayla Senatori."

At the mention of his sha'nauch, Clark's hackles rose. "What about them?"

Joe's other eyebrow rose at Clark's inherent defensiveness. "I have their drop-out paperwork, Clark, and I'm more than a little concerned," he said honestly. "Neither of them has been at school this semester at all, and I must admit to a great deal of worry, especially in regards to Ms. Sullivan," he continued. "As a new mother, I would think she would understand the importance of continuing her education so that she could provide the best life possible for her child."

"No offense intended, sir, but you washed your hands of Chloe Sullivan when you suspended her and took away the Torch, so it's not really your business what Chloe wants to do. Nor it is mine, for that matter. Shayla Senatori had a breakdown, sir, and she's in the process of putting her life back together."

"I beg to differ, Mr. Kent," Joe said, slightly offended. "What I did to discipline Ms. Sullivan was entirely appropriate and not nearly as harsh as I could have been. Her actions could have gotten her expelled from this institution, and I interceded on her behalf after I handed down a suspension and a removal of her editorship privilege, because Ms. Sullivan *is* an exceptional individual, much like yourself. She has alternative viewpoints and isn't afraid to seek out and confront the strange and the different. I admire that, quite a lot, which is why her dropping out of school entirely bothers me."

"Then perhaps, sir, you should take it up with her. I'm not the right person to ask."

Joe nodded. "I intend to take it up with her, Mr. Kent. However, I am not quite so old yet that I don't realize you have a lot more influence with her as her friend than I do as her principal. I'd like you to seriously consider whether *you* think this is the best thing for your friend to do, and then advise her on it. Ms. Senatori is another matter entirely, and I intend to speak to her and her brother both."

"Sir?" Clark leaned forward, real close. His anger knew no bounds, though he kept himself calmly, and coldly, in check. "Chloe has a family, and a fiancé. Her life has begun and she is happy. What she does with it is her own business, and I will *not* influence my" ashikana. "friend in any way she doesn't want it to be."

"Yes, Mr. Kent, she does. At the tender age of seventeen, might I remind you, and before she has even graduated high school," he continued. "It's quite a radical change in her life and her lifeSTYLE, and I'm asking you to consider if you think if being a high-school drop out is going to be good for Ms. Sullivan, or for her family. And let me make one thing clear to you. I am not asking you to influence her one way or the other, merely use your brain, consider what you think is best for Chloe, and advise her, whatever that thought might be."

Clark climbed to his feet, without answering. If he did, he was going to give away the fact that he could crack the man in half without breaking a sweat. "I will be here tomorrow in regards to the EOC, sir."

"You are, of course, still expected to attend your classes," Joe pointed out.

"Of course I am," Clark said, as he left. He closed the door behind him, ignored the secretary, and walked out of the office, down the hall.

He walked out of the enormous double doors, ignoring the luring looks some of the girls were giving him, slid into the car Lex got him, and took off down the road towards the mansion.

Joe... just sighed, and rubbed his temples as he looked down at the paperwork.

Well, there was a bright side.

At least Clark wasn't dropping out of high school.

- = - = -

Lex didn't say anything as the Spyder tore out of the school parking lot, didn't say anything as Clark shifted gears easily, just waited for Clark to say something.

When they were two miles out from the school and Clark still hadn't said anything, Lex ventured a word. "Clark?"

"Don't." Clark snarled. His voice was several octaves deeper, and his hands were clenching and unclenching the steering wheel. To say that he was furious was somewhat of an understatement. He'd be damned--DAMNED--before he even VENTURED to try and convince his ashikana, his beautiful, intelligent, brilliant ashikana, of doing something she didn't want to do. FUCK Reynolds in his tight fucking little ASS.

He. Snarled.

"Ah. All right." Lex just shook his head and delved into the briefcase at his feet. "Adam collected quite a few apartment listings for us over the last week, and I picked them up this morning," he said, not expecting an answer. "I'll just be looking them over."

"Adam can kiss my fucking ass," Clark snarled.

"I thought that was my job," Lex said, not looking up from his papers.

It was said so flawlessly that Clark glanced over... blinked... and then sighed, a small smile twitching his lips. "Sorry." He took his foot off the gas and dropped the car back down to the double digits, running a hand through his messy hair.

"You don't have to apologize to me, Clark. You've seen me through many of my pissy moods, and taken it all in stride," Lex said, sliding his fingers through Clark's hair. "You're entitled." He squeezed Clark's fingers in his head gently. "I take it things didn't go well with Reynolds?"

"Reynolds is a prick," Clark said, and squeezed Lex's thigh softly as he settled more in the seat and took the entrance ramp onto the high way. As soon as he had he settled in his seat and sighed. "He wants me to 'advise' Chloe into staying in school."

"Yes, he is. The man has the record for carrying a stick the longest without using his hands--at the moment, he's running on about five years, give or take a few," Lex said with a snort. "It's not a bad idea, from his point of view, unless you know that Chloe has already applied for her GED," he added.

"I know that, but I wasn't about to tell *him* that, fucking piece of… something. You think up a good insult, I'm not channeling the right muses right now. They're hiding from the fury." Clark exhaled through his nose and sideglanced his lover, cast in the gray light of the thick clouds gathered in the sky, dark with rain. "I love you, you know."

"Fucking piece of scum-lapping shit?" Lex offered, leaning over to kiss his lover softly. "I know, Clark. And I love you." His fingers traced along Clark's jaw as his lover drove. "At least be grateful he's trying, in his own, stick-up-his-ass way, to make sure that Chloe has a good life."

"I guess. It's his own fault she lost everything she loved, and had to find a different way of living. And? Whitney better marry her, and soon. My god son isn't going to grow up a bastard," Clark said, grumpily, even as Lex kissed him.

Lex chuckled softly at that. "I think you should have a little talk with Chloe about that, not Whitney," Lex pointed out. "*She* proposed to *him* after turning him down before."

"Chloe, then. She *does* wear the pants there, doesn't she?" Clark asked, a wicked grin crossing his face at the memory of Whitney wearing the leather skirt and corset, riding Clark into oblivion. He shivered the smallest bit.

"Yes, she does," Lex said with a chuckle, relishing the image of Whitney in the corset as it leaked through Clark's bond with him.

"That was hot. I'll bet he never looks at Chloe's lingerie the same way again," Clark said, lips twitching at the mental image of his Whitney in a dress. "We should take him out clubbing with us, him and Chloe, sometime."

Lex considered that for a long moment. "You know, Chloe's too pretty to make a good man, but I'm betting if we used a little theatrical makeup to give her a bit of a five o'clock shadow and put her in one of my sweaters, she'd pass for a pretty young man." He blinked at Clark. "Whitney's got the right shoulders for it, but I'd have to have something tailor made to tuck in at his hips and flare out to cover the wide thighs."

"Kind of like Elijah Wood tries to pass himself off as hetero with the three hairs on his upper lip?" Clark asked, sideglancing Lex with his dimples winking as he downshifted, passed the guy in front of him, and figured what the hell--he took off, going seventy five... then eighty, and kept the car there, humming happily along. "He's look hot. I bet he'd find it a hoot."

"He's heterosexual?" Lex asked, puzzled. "I was under the impression that he was living with one of the other hobbits in New York?" he asked, questioning softly.

"Of course he is. They should just come out though, Lex. It's better to be openly gay, like, oh, I can hold your hand down the street." He sideglanced Lex. "Your dad and Dominic didn't do that for a long time, and it hurt the both of them."

Lex gave a little snort. "I doubt that anything hurt my father, Clark," Lex said softly. "At least, I don't think he'd let it. However, he does seem much more relaxed now that Dominic is back to himself and Rory's come to join them," he slid in smoothly. "I prefer the openness to the clandestine."

"I haven't talked to Dominic in a few days. How's he doing?"

"Better," Lex said. "He's picking up more work at home, and he's dying to get back to LuthorCorp and demote Adam to my personal assistant," he said with a wide grin.

"I'd like to be there when he does it," Clark said, totally innocent as he drove. The air was already cool outside but he had the AC running on low, to keep the air circulated. "How's… Aurora?"

"I'm sure he'd sell you a ticket," Lex said, just as innocently. "And Rory's doing just fine; she's giving Dad fits though. He scolds her for peeing on his shoe like he thinks she can understand him, and all she does is gurgle."

Clark, for his part, smiled quietly. "Good girl."

"Yeah, she is. I think she's going to turn out just like me though, though my pissing on my father was more metaphorical than strictly literal."

Clarks lips twitched again, despite themselves, and he smiled at his lover with amusement. "No, I think you've actually done the literal too. While drunk, anyway." But he smiled again and took Lex's hand in his own, squeezing tight.

"Well... I'm sure he deserved it," Lex said, twining his fingers through Clark's and squeezing back just as tightly.

So they drove. It took them a bit over two hours to get there, so by the time they cruised into the city limits it was nine thirty. Clark cruised through the town he knew well--he'd memorized the map some time ago--and stopped the car briefly in front of the Daily Planet. "Okay, baby. Where should i meet you?"

Lex pointed to Tratterham's restaurant, about a block and a half down. "Why don't you meet me at Trat's? We can have lunch and go through the listings together, and then head out to whichever one is closest," Lex suggested.

"Sounds good, baby." He leaned over and pecked his lover on the lips. "Be careful at the university. Don't let any co-eds flirt with you, and if they do, explain to them that you have an aushna' who is very prone to jealousy." Big grin, all teeth, and he kissed his lover once more before climbing out of the car.

"Trust me, Clark, I don't think I'll be talking to anyone under the age of fifty," he said with a wry grin, giving his aushna' another kiss. "It shouldn't take me long."

Clark leaned into the car, grinned, and kissed him back. "See you in a bit." And with that, he turned and, satchel in arm, went into the Daily Planet.

He rose a hand in waving at the girl at the desk, who looked a bit fluttery and pale for some reason, and shook some of the raindrops off of his jacket as he climbed the steps to the offices. People were running, phones were ringing, bellows were echoing. Normalcy in all its wonder. "Lois?"

"Over here, Smallville!" she yelled, stubbing out a cigarette as she waved a navy-blue clad arm in the air to get his attention. "By the copy desk!"

Clark moved around the mail girl, waved at Jimmy, and plunked up the steps to the copy desk where the machine was whirring like mad. "Hey, Lois."

"What's up, Smallville?" she asked, lighting another cigarette as she fed sheets into the machine. "and hey, look behind you, give me the wrench and the toner bottle, cause I'm going to have to do some major surgery on this thing if it doesn't stop eating my article!" she said, landing a kick against the side of the machine.

"Here, let me." Clark pulled his satchel off, shrugged out of his coat, and pushed the sleeves of his sweater up as he took the toner, the wrench, and motioned behind her. "Been fixing things with gum and luck at home for a long time now. Let me see the manual."

Lois snorted as she stepped out of the way. "The manual got lost ten years ago, kid."

All right, then. Clark frowned and peered at the machine as it whirred and jerked, and learned what did what as quickly as possible, humming to himself as he popped the side panel off. "Perry say anything else about you and I working on that article together?"

"He probably would have if I'd returned his bellow," Lois said cheekily. "But I've got a few other things to worry about, like a couple of deadlines and a copy machine that eats my HC before I can send it down to typeset!"

Yes, well, Clark stuck his fingers in, whole hand in, after unplugging the bastard and started wrenching away. "Some of the things are loose, that's why it's eating your paperwork. Here... get me some duct tape, will you?"

"Just bang 'em back into place with the wrench, cause they're coming to change this piece of shit out next week with a new one, because Perry's finally listened to us about updating the office equipment," she grunted, heaving a new ream of paper into the paper tray.

"All right, then." He hammered them back in and pulled back, pushing the panel back into place. "There we go." He stood, dusting his slacks off, and noticed the women in the office staring at him before jerking back to work. Clark blushed softly, and said in a low voice, "Do I have something stuck to me or something? Every time I come in here, people stare at me."

Lois whooped loudly, nearly dropping her cigarette onto her slacks and still managing to burn a hole through the top of her shoe. "Ow! That hurt!" She kicked the ember off and ground it out, and hopped on one foot as she rubbed the other one. "Open your eyes, Smallville, they're checking you out."

"They're probably checking out how soon I'm going to fix this machine so it can get up and running," Clark amended, wiping his hands on his slacks without thinking. "Let me ask you something, Lois."

"Yeah, you just keep thinkin' that." She smacked his hands as soon as they wiped on his pants. "Towel, Smallville!" She handed him a roll of paper towels kept nearby for toner accidents. "Ask."

Clark glared at her but took the paper towels, scrubbing the grease from his palms as he grabbed his bag at the same time and ambled back towards Lois' desk. "How...likely do you think it is that Perry'll give me a desk job? if I ask?"

Lois' eyes boggled. "You're not even out of high school yet, kid. Come back when you've got a year of college under your belt, and he might not laugh you out of his office," she advised.

"I'm testing out of high school next week, and I'm taking my SAT's in another two weeks," Clark said, pitching a hip on the corner of her desk and folding his arms across his chest.

"And you've got the street beat experience of a gnat," she said, looking in her desk drawer and pulling out a fresh pack of cigarettes. "Look, Smallville. I'm not saying you don't have talent, because even I can see you do. But don't jump the gun here. Give yourself time to grow into it, or this job's going to chew you up and spit you down the toilet."

He frowned darkly. "How am I going to get street experience if I don't...jump in? Do stuff? Someone's got to start somewhere, right? Where did you start?"

Lois flicked her lighter. "At the bottom of the food chain. I was a staff writer doing obits and local interest pieces--I covered more damn quilting bees and canning festivals than any one human being should have to." She held out the pack. "Smoke?"

He shook his head at the pack and instead slid into the chair in front of her desk, Perry's dulcet tones muffled through his door to whoever he was bellowing at. "So, you're telling me to talk to little old ladies?"

"Smart kid. Filthy habit," she said, even as she puffed her umpteenth cigarette of the day to life. "And, no. I'm telling you to do what Perry tells you, because--and Kent, if you ever repeat this, I'll snatch out your short hairs--but the old bastard knows what he's doing. If he's got you on the social beat, you do the social beat. If he puts you on the business page, you do the business page."

"I just drink my boyfriends scotch," Clark murmured, but thought a minute about what she'd said. "I'm cool with anything. I just thought... Lex and I are moving here. Soon. We don't have it all planned yet, but we're looking at apartments today. And...I thought Perry might want me... here. Instead of... there."

Lois shrugged. "He may want you here, Smallville. He may tell you to keep writing the pieces you'd write for the school paper and send them in, and keep you doing that till you've filled that end of your contract. I don't know. If I knew what in the hell went on in Perry's mind, I'd be a millionaire, and richer than your boyfriend Luthor, that's for sure."

Clark sighed, and would have spoken if the screams from behind the door didn't stop, and a shaky kid who looked like an internet stumbled out, pale in the face and sweating, muttering under his breath as he passed them. Clark glanced up, meekly, at the red faced man.

Perry just glared. "All right, Kent! In my office, now! Lane! Put that cigarette out, this is a no smoking office!" he yelled, even as he lit up his own stogie and slammed the office door shut.

"You know, I probably should have waited before I got caught behind the kid who screwed up," Clark winced, took her cigarette, pulled a long drag from it...coughed...and handed it back before hopping up the steps and knocking lightly on the door before opening it.

"Come in!" Perry bellowed, knocking off ash into the ashtray.

Clark slipped in through the door and closed it behind him, shifting slightly. "Mr. White," he said, wondering briefly why this man made him feel like a four year old where Principle Asshat failed to do so, and crept forward, all but shuffling his feet.

"Sit down, stop slouching, straighten your shoulders, and for God's sake, stop scuffing your feet in my carpet and *look* at me when you talk to me, Kent!"

Clark's eyes flew open and he did all that, plunking in the chair in front of the desk. "Sorry, sir. I… uh. Brought my stories for the week... I'll drop them off with the editor before I leave."

Perry waved his hand. "Give 'em to me and I'll have one of the copy kids take it down."

Without another word Clark went into his bag for the stories, three in total, and handed them over. He cleared his throat a little, gathering his wits back around him, and said, "Lex and I are moving into the city. Soon, without the next few months. I... uh. Wanted… erm."

"Well? Spit it out," Perry said, grinding the cigar between his teeth.

"I wanted to know if... if... maybe I could.." He swallowed. "Maybe I could do stories. Like... on the street. Street stories. I know a lot about canning," he added, lamely.

"Canning?" Perry rolled his eyes. "You've been listening to Lois Lane too long. Kent, let me tell you something. If you can't prove what comes outta her mouth, don't believe it." He studied Clark. "You want to move up to a desk job."

Clark nodded. A smite too eagerly. "Yes. I do. I'm taking placement tests next week, and if all goes well, I'll be enrolled at Met U next semester."

Perry drummed his fingers on the desk. "Make you a deal, Kent. You keep working the editorials for me, just like always, and email 'em in. If you get into Met U next semester, you got your desk job. You bring your grades in at the end of the semester, and if you drop below a 3.5, you're on probation until you get it pulled back up, understand me?"

Clark nodded. A mite too eagerly. And grinned. He could pull a 3.5 in his sleep. "Sounds good to me. Thanks, Mr. White."

"You're welcome, Kent. And don't thank me yet--you're gonna be working with Lane and I don't know if you're going to *want* that job after a few days."

Clark smiled anyway and reached over the desk to shake the man's hand. "Thanks, Mr. White," he said again. "I've got to go--I'll be back again next week."

Perry shook Clark's hand. "Make sure Luthor finds a nice place for you, Kent. You're gonna need a good office at home, for your computer and files and crap."

"We will," Clark said, and after one firm shake, he left the office, closing the door behind him with a little wave.

He beamed at Lois as he walked past her, his cell phone already in hand. "I get a desk job by January! How great is that?" he just *beamed*. "See you, Lois!"

"Later, Smallville!" Lois yelled, waving one arm up as her other hand typed on the keyboard.

- = - = -

Lex had had a surprisingly easy meeting with the dean of Metropolis University, and it hadn't taken nearly as long as he'd expected to get everything in order.

His name had expedited most of the red tape usually associated with the admissions process, and he'd already drafted the first of his tuition checks and handed it over, and he felt exceptionally good about himself and the entire situation as he pulled up in front of the Daily Planet building and pulled into the VIP parking space in front of the steps.

He put on his sunglasses and stretched in the driver's seat, fitting into it slightly better than he had before his last growth spurt, because now his body resembled Clark's a lot more. As soon as Clark came out, he'd slide to the passenger seat, but he rolled the sunroof down and let the warmth flow into the car.

Clark slid into the car mere moments after Lex slid over, and grinned, broadly at him, in a way he hadn't for a while. "Hi," he said, closed the door, and reached over to lay a hot kiss on his lovers mouth. He missed the gofer girl dropping six cups of cappuccino on the steps of the Daily Planet, her jaw hanging open.

"Have I told you lately I'm really happy we're coming here?" Clark asked, beaming at him and kissing his mouth once more, licking over a firm lower lip. "How did everything go?"

Lex slid his hands through Clark's hair, holding him close as they kissed and murmuring contentedly. "I'm glad we are too," he said, nipping Clark's tongue as it licked his lip. "Everything went... quite well, actually. My admissions forms are being processed, transcripts are being mailed from overseas as we speak, and my first tuition check is in the dean's hands."

"I'm so proud of you. We'll celebrate tonight," Clark announced, then, beaming again as he cranked the engine. "Dinner at the most expensive restaurant you can think of. Maybe even to celebrate an apartment too, if we find one," Clark beamed, kissed him once more, and started the car out of the parking lot. "Seat belt, baby."

Lex reached over and clicked his seat belt into place, and then pushed his glasses up further onto his nose. "We're going to lunch first, then a brief detour to Mandrake's for custom-fitted tuxedos, assuming, that is, that you want to be my date to the Lillian Luthor Cancer Foundation benefit in three weeks.

"Of course I do." A pause. "What's the Lillian Luthor Cancer Foundation benefit? I didn't even know you guys had a foundation set up for her. What does it research? If... if I can ask."

"You can ask, Clark. We have two foundations, actually. The Fleur De Lis foundation works on funding radical research into treating the kind of heart disease that contributed to my mother's death. The Lillian Luthor Foundation funds research into preventing and curing all kinds of cancer, but specializing in breast cancer, lung cancer, and leukemia," Lex explained. "The Fleur De Lis only has one benefit a year, and the Lillian Luthor Foundation has three."

"Why didn't we go to any this--"

He stopped. They hadn't gone to any for obvious reasons. Mar-El, then Dominic. "Never mind. Well, what kind of thing do we have to wear? penguin suits?" he paused, surveyed his lover from the corner of his eye, and said calmly, "Have I told you how fucking hot you look? You... the shoulders, and... everything. The height, the width. God, you look--" He stopped. Cleared his throat. "We should probably get you some pants, too. What're you going to tell Aden and Rico?"

"Yes, penguin suits." Lex leaned back in the seat. "You know, Rico should know better than to ask," he said, with a little nod of his head. "But I'll figure out something before we get there." He flashed a grin at Clark, and ran his hand along his lover's thigh teasingly. "You know, we could stop at the penthouse... "

Clark growled low in his throat. "We could. We should. I can run to Smallville in the morning." His eyes flashed, hot and hungry, at Lex as his fingers came down to catch the warm hand and link their fingers. "You have always excited me, aushna'. But now? Now, I burn for you."

Lex's hand squeezed Clark's fingers tightly, his thumb rubbing along Clark's palm. "I like that you burn for me," he said in a throaty voice. "I burn for you, too, aushna', in the deep places inside of me, that only you can fill."

Clark shivered all over--he swallowed, hard, against it, eyes falling to half mast. He concentrated on the road long enough, fingers squeezing and relaxing against his lovers, to get to the penthouse garage. One of the entrance passes was in the glove compartment, as it was for all the cars Lex owned, and after finding it, Clark swiped it across the machine and drove the car into the garage.

Parked it, between a BMW and a Hummer. And leaned over, unzipping his lovers slacks, and burrowed between those sweet, wonderful, gorgeous thighs.

Lex's fingers squeezed Clark's as they flexed in his hand, and he rubbed his cheek against Clark's shoulder before straightening up when they pulled into the parking lot.

He barely had a chance to arch his back and raise his hips just a little before Clark's fingers were unzipping the slacks he'd worn that morning and a hot, wet mouth was between his legs.

"Christ, Clark," Lex breathed, stroking his fingers through his lover's hair. "Christ, you're so hot like this." He tugged gently, pulling Clark's mouth further onto his cock. "I love when you suck my cock because you can't wait to have me any other way."

Clark moaned around his mouthful, breathing and tasting his lovers cock--hot, wet, musky, and the tip was just *this* side of the sweet, sugary taste Clark himself always was and it was *intoxicating*. He groaned in his throat as he arranged himself, an he was making the most lewd, loud noises but he didn't care, didn't, not when he had Lex right *there* tasting so fucking good. He groaned again, and again, sucking hard and bobbing his head to scrape his tongue across the sensitive parts, especially the tip, which he suckled like a lollipop for a moment before dragging his mouth back down, almost to the root.

Lex's head pressed tightly against the headrest as he arched his hips up, pushing his cock into Clark's mouth.

The feeling of Clark's teeth and tongue scraping along the shaft and head was exquisite, causing his toes to curl as he moaned sharply in the closed confines of the car. His throat was closing with the choking moans and grunts that he was giving, and his hips were humping Clark's mouth madly.

His fingers tightened in Clark's hair, stroking through it, rubbing frantically as he rocked his hips side to side and then pushed deep, eager for more and more sensation as Clark sucked him.

Clark was in heaven. *Heaven*. He loved the taste of his lover, the feel of him against his tongue, the spongy hardness of his cock as it stroked the back of his throat where his almost nonexistent gag reflex worked with him to suck on his lover. The feel of it, of dragging his mouth over hot flesh, was utterly intoxicating and he groaned again, and once more.

Lex's hands cradled Clark's head gently, almost reverently as he thrust his cock into his lover's throat. Hard, deep thrusts that pushed his cock completely to the hilt before sliding out again, and he couldn't help the groans, or the chants of his lover's name as Clark's mouth danced over his cock. "Clark... Clark... I want to suck you down, fuck you hard, make you come over and over again because of me."

Clarks muffled response was loud and wanting from down in the crook of Lex's lap. he thoroughly enjoyed himself, licking and sucking, pulling deep, hard pulls from his lovers erection. It tasted of candy and felt even better on the roof of his mouth, along the length of his tongue, and down his throat as deep as he could get it in this angle. His palm came down to carefully massage hard, heavy balls, rubbing his thumb between them.

Lex's entire body jerked as Clark's thumb rubbed between his balls. They'd become more sensitive since they'd gotten larger, and he gave a particularly deep thrust into Clark's throat as he rubbed his balls. "God, Clark, Christ... fuck that feels right," he gasped out, urging his lover to do the same thing again. "Close, baby, please, so close."

Clark moaned around the thrust as his lover pushed down his throat with it, and his entire body shuddered, head to toe, as he suckled harder, encouraged by the noises cheering him on. He sucked harder, deeper, dragging his teeth along the base upward, to the head, where he suckled hard before plunging his mouth back down over him. His thumb stroked harder between his lovers balls, as far in his pants as he could get in this position, and just barely scraped a fingernail over his lovers hole.

The scrape of Clark's fingernail was the end of it, and Lex shuddered hard, almost screaming as his back arched. His cock buried itself in his lover's throat, pouring jet after jet of come down his lover's throat as his body was wracked with shudders.

Clark used his free hand to brace his lovers hip so he wouldn't choke him and wrapped his lips tighter around the hard, pulsing organ, sucking as hard as he could as his lover came. He was jerking and shuddering under him, silent but for the high keening noise and it was incredible, desperately, *gorgeous*. Clark moaned himself, deep and softly as his lover offered him what he had to have, and the sweet, slightly bitter taste made him moan again, and again, as he dragged his fingertip across the little bud, over and over.

Lex's hips kept thrusting, trying to push down and ride hard on his lover's fingers, trying to work the fingers teasing him deep inside his body as he came, his heavy balls twitching as they drained out through his cock.

He was panting hard, breathless and ragged as he strained against Clark, the restraining hand on his hip making him rock back against Clark's fingers even harder.

At the hard rock forward Clark was able to slip his hand into his lovers pants a little deeper, and let Lex sit on his palm as he teased the hole, one finger pushing, dry, into the entrance. Slow, and only to the first knuckle, but it was enough to carefully stroke his lovers insides as he suckled every spurt down, deep, lifting up to suckle hard at the tip to get every last drop.

Lex did cry out at that, the muscles of his opening clenching down on Clarks' finger as his cock spurted out its last dregs, and he sat there, panting and contracting around Clark's fingers inside him.

Clark looked up, then, all big green eyes and wicked smile around his lovers cock. He slurped one last time before lifting up enough to lick the corner of his mouth and wipe his chin, before he lowered his head to clean Lex up. His tongue stroked broad sweeps across the softening organ, cleaning him from root to tip as he slid his hand free of his lovers pants and nuzzled the warm, sated cock.

Lex gave lazy little keens and whines as Clark licked him clean, wiggling his hips so that his cock rubbed against Clark's cheek just a little bit. His hand reached out and rubbed over Clark's stomach, moving down towards the belt of his jeans.

"You don't have to," Clark murmured against his lovers cock, licking the tip warmly before gently tucking it back into his lovers pants. It was so big, so perfect, it fit everywhere against his mouth and tongue and ass, it was... oh, and he groaned again softly and reached down to kiss it softly, peppering those kisses down to warm balls before up, up a warm belly, across cotton, and then to that *mouth*, and those *lips* and he was shuddering. He hadn't lied--ever since his lovers body had changed he'd been burning, constantly on, hot and aroused when his lover bent over, when his lover tapped his pen across his mouth, when his lover fucking tied his shoes.

The damning thing was, this was normal arousal. He didn't feel any pulls in his mind that always signaled something was up. This… was all him.

"I know I don't have to," Lex said, licking frantic kisses over Clark's mouth, lips, cheeks and chin, devouring the taste of his own come off his lover. "I want to. I want to, Clark." His hands held his lover's face still, thumbs stroking firmly over sharp cheekbones. "I want to kiss you, fuck you, ride you, make you come, drain you completely, make you whimper and beg for me."

Clark whimpered at the words as he attacked his lovers mouth, frantic and hot and needy and oh, *God*. "C-can... your dad's... his Penthouse… upstairs, I..." He was shuddering and trembling, his fingers scraping his lovers chest as his eyes, wild and wanton, met Lex's.

"Yes, we can, keycard's in my wallet," Lex answered back, arching into the fingers that scratched lightly over his chest, rubbing his leg against Clark's as he tried to scramble over the gearshift and into his lover's lap.

 

-fin-

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