Lex
was sprawled on the couch, almost falling off it, really.
He was also in imminent danger of dribbling wine down his hand-tailored
shirt as he waved his wineglass about in the air, using it to illustrate some
point. Clark's eyes followed the
glass through the air while Lex's voice droned on and on about how some
long-dead General's campaign paralleled his recent takeover of something
called Blaucorp. Except Clark had to snicker every time because it almost
sounded like Lex was saying "Blow Corp." and Clark figured that had
to be a company that specialized in blow jobs.
Or something. But oh shit, now Clark was spilling his wine all over his
pants. And they were pants Lex
bought him for Christmas, and somehow that was now the funniest thing ever in
the history of the world and Clark started laughing so hard that Lex actually
stopped talking about the dead General blowing him and damn, that was even
funnier!
"Clark,
quit laughing," Lex sputtered. "I'm
trying to explain my strategy to you."
Except it came out kind of slurred but with the attempted precision
that only someone truly three sheets to the wind drunk can muster. "What is wrong with you?" Lex continued, punctuating each word with a slight wave of
his glass.
"Bwahahaha!"
Clark replied, falling off the couch.
"Clark!"
Lex stood up then, or tried to, but ended up mostly wobbling his way
over to Clark, who was now lying on the floor, giggling, and wiping tears from
his eyes. Around him, the broken
shards of his own wineglass glistened.
Clark
could only stare at Lex, all the while giggling, until finally he composed
himself enough to screech "you bought me pants!"
Lex
stepped backwards, crunching a glass shard beneath his heel.
"You needed pants. You
put pants on your Christmas list, so I bought you pants."
Damn!
Lex looked like he was going to cry.
Lex hadn't looked like he was about to cry in years.
It had been at least since they had both left Smallville, Clark for
college at Met U and Lex to immerse himself in Lexcorp's growth.
"Poor Lex," Clark thought.
"He looks so sweet when he cries."
That thought set off another round of laughter, which only made Lex
more upset.
"Are
you always like this when you are drunk?"
"Don't
know. Never been drunk before!"
Clark managed to stand partway up, still giggling.
"Oh,
just high, then."
"Huh?
No, never been high."
"Borrowing
my Ferrari, running up mom and dad's credit cards, and there were no drugs
involved?"
"Uh,
n ..no."
"So,
no drugs, huh? Drugs are a
delusion."
What
the hell did that mean? Clark did not want to try to figure it out.
Clark wanted to laugh. Lex
didn't want to laugh. Lex wanted
to solve the world's problems, or at least the mystery that was Clark Kent.
And that just would not do. Thinking
quickly, though drunkenly, Clark launched himself at Lex with deliberate
slowness, intending to tickle him into a state of confusion.
As he teetered forward, Lex's expression became at first questioning
and then frightened and finally, just as Clark reached out to tickle, Lex
stepped backwards out of his reach. But
Clark had momentum on his side and barreled into his friend's chest, taking
them both back down to the ground and landing Lex squarely atop the broken
glass.
"Fuck,
Clark! You broke my ass!"
Lex shouted.
"Oh,
shit, Lex, I'm sorry!"
"Help
me get up." And Clark tried, but he was still wobbly enough that he
couldn't quite catch hold of Lex's outstretched hand.
"Dammit,
Clark just pick me up."
And
so he did, lifting Lex into the air as if he were a paper airplane or lace
doily and setting him on the couch, which elicited yet another scream from
Lex.
"Not
on my ass, Clark!"
"Sorry!
Sorry!" Clark picked Lex up again, this time setting him on his stomach. There was no glass protruding from Lex's rear-end, but there
obviously had been, at some point, as his pants were now spotted with a small
bit of blood. After a quick x-ray
to determine that there was no glass broken off under the skin, Clark crawled
his way up to Lex's head, looked down at him, and kissed him on the tip of his
nose.
"Clark,
you just kissed my nose."
"Well,
I wasn't going to kiss your ass."
"Wha?"
Lex started to ask, finally beginning to laugh a little himself, causing Clark
to sway and grab onto the back of the couch.
"Mom
always kissed my booboos to make them better.
I had to kiss your booboo better, but I'm not going to kiss your
ass."
Lex
snorted in reply. "Would you
at least get me a bandage for my ass? No,
first get me another drink. Then get me a bandage for my ass."
Clark
hopped off of Lex and the couch, and staggered off in search of more wine and
a first aid kit.
***
The
wine was good. Somehow over the
last three years in Metropolis, Lex had managed to educate his favorite farm
boy in the more sophisticated ways of the world.
Clark had chosen a merlot, the perfect accompaniment to drunken pain
and suffering. The young man was
now perched on the edge of a nearby chair, watching him sip from his goblet
while hanging halfway off the couch. It
was a horribly difficult way to drink, but his crash on top of the glass
hadn't quite sobered him, and he was reluctant to attempt standing at the
moment. Clark looked absolutely
miserable, which was too bad really, because he'd looked so much cuter when he
was all giggly.
"You
should get a new glass and have some of this, Clark.
It's really good."
'Um,
I probably better not. I already
made a big mess and hurt you."
"You're
going to let me drink alone? That's
not nice, Clark."
"Lex,
really, it's getting late and I still have to, um, have to put a bandage on
you."
Clark
looked scared now. Good.
He was almost where Lex wanted him.
"I
think it will be a lot less difficult for you to deal with my ass if you've
had another drink, Clark."
"It's
not … I'm not … I …"
"Go
get a wineglass and pour yourself a glass of wine, Clark.
And then pour me another. I'm
going to try to stand up now."
Lex
held his almost-empty glass out to Clark, who, after a moment's hesitation,
stood and took the glass, but instead of walking to the sideboard for more
wine, hovered nearby while Lex, grabbing hold of the couch and pushing himself
up, managed a mostly upright position. "I'm
okay from here," he said, gesturing towards the sideboard. Clark hesitated again, but finally went to get them both
fresh drinks. They drank silently
for a few moments, then Lex retrieved the bottle, himself. Clark was still looking pale and morose.
Apparently the trip to the bathroom to find bandages had been enough to
sober the young man up and as big as he was, one glass of wine wasn't going to
be nearly enough to return him to a drunken, laughing state.
Lex refilled both their glasses, then made his decision.
It was time to bring out the big guns.
"I
know you didn't like the brandy that one time I got you to try it, but you
haven't tried Grand Marnier have you?"
"Gramma's
what?" Clark asked, eyes
full of bewilderment.
"Grand
Marnier. It's an orange liquor.
It's very good and a little sweet.
I think there's a bottle inside here.
Yes, good, there is. I
could go for something a little stronger now, myself."
Lex poured small servings of the amber liquor into two snifters, and
after handing one to Clark, inhaled the contents of his own, deeply.
"Mmmmmm, delicious," Lex sighed.
Clark,
eyes wide-open, watched as Lex finally took a sip of the drink.
Then, bowing his own head, first sniffed, then sipped at his glass.
"What
is this stuff?" Clark asked, taking another sip.
"It's not as gross as the brandy.
It makes me feel … warm."
"It's
good stuff, isn't it? It's made
from cognac."
"Isn't
that just fancy brandy?"
"Cognac
is double-distilled like brandy, yes, but it comes from the Cognac region of
France."
"Oh,
so it's like French wine, sorta. It's
named after where it's from."
"Sort
of. Yes. You've learned well, Clark." But Lex wasn't interested in educating Clark on fine Cognac
and liquors on this particular evening. He
just wanted him drunk.
"What
makes it not taste gross?"
"Orange
peels and sugar." Clark had
finished his snifter. Good.
"Have a little more. I
think the taste will grow on you."
Clark
complied, this time taking bigger sips and finishing his glass in record time.
Lex wasn't sure if it was an effort to make the upcoming bandaging of
his ass less off-putting or Clark was just enjoying the Grand Marnier.
Either way, he seemed to have relaxed considerably in the last few
moments.
"You
should try strawberries soaked in it sometime," Lex said, meaning to make
idle conversation while Clark continued to drink and relax.
"Strawberries?
Do you have strawberries?" There
was an interesting gleam in Clark's eye.
"They're
not in season, but yes, I have some hothouse strawberries.
I usually serve them at my New Year's party."
"And
cream?"
"I
always have cream in the house. My
staff knows better than to neglect the staple supplies."
"Let's
have dessert."
"Okay,
but let's get taking my pants off over with, first."
Clark
snickered, and for the first time in half an hour, Lex was certain his goal
was in sight. Two glasses of the good stuff and Clark was as good as his.
He poured them both another glass.
"Let's both have one more. I
have a feeling it's going to hurt, a lot, when I take my pants off.
You may have to kiss my nose again."
Clark
grinned back at him, and downed the content of his glass in one gulp.
"That's
going to hit you pretty hard in a moment."
"Hopefully
not as hard as I hit you."
"Well,
yes, …" But now Clark was
standing mere inches away from him and almost leering.
"Let's
get these pants off you and have dessert."
Surely
Clark didn't realize how that sounded. Or
maybe he did, because suddenly his pants and his underpants were both gone. How had he done that? Maybe
all the alcohol was staring to make him fuzzy again, but he could have sworn
Clark just tore his pants off and both Clark and the pants seemed to have
disappeared!
If
Lex's ass hadn't been so sore, he would have sat down on the couch.
As it was, he had to stand there, dizzily wondering what had happened.
But before he could even look around, Clark was back, sans Lex's pants,
but holding a bowl of bright red strawberries in one hand and a bowl of
whipped cream in the other. The Hell?
"Pants
off. Time for dessert."
Clark stated, as if the situation were obvious.
"Um,
are you going to bandage me?"
"Oh,
yeah. Okay. Lie on the
couch."
Fortunately
Lex was considerably inebriated himself at this point.
Because Clark had become rather fuzzy and was beginning to make sense.
Pulling his shirt down in a futile attempt at modesty, Lex managed to
mutter "you will not put whipped cream on my ass!" over his shoulder
while he lay down. Clark snickered some more, but behaved reasonably well,
though the cold, stingy liquid he applied to the puncture wound was very
unpleasant. Still, Lex had to
give him credit for being able to apply a soft, snuggly attached bandage to
his squirming body.
The
bandaging completed, Lex felt himself being hauled off the couch again.
Clark reached over to the nearby table where he'd placed the bowls,
dunked one of the strawberries in first the Grand Marnier, then in whipped
cream and touched it to Lex's lips. Lex
poked the tip of his tongue out and licked a tiny bit of the liquor and cream
into his mouth, savoring the mixture of flavors.
Clark still held the strawberry to his lips, so he bit into it, taking
small bites to make the treat last.
It
was Clark's turn, next, and Lex let the strawberry he planned to feed him
linger in the liquor for a few moments, soaking up flavor and alcohol before
he dipped it in the fluffy cream and held it to Clark's lips.
Clark licked the cream off the berry, completely, before sucking it
into his mouth. It was, hands
down, the most sensual sight Lex had ever seen.
The berry, being sucked between those luscious lips, had to be the
luckiest fruit on the planet.
Expecting
another strawberry, Lex closed his eyes and opened his mouth.
Another berry was placed there and Lex sighed as he bit into it.
He reached for another strawberry to feed Clark, but suddenly things
were out of whack. Lex was still
standing, but Clark, rather than standing with him, was now kneeling beneath
him, and reaching up to unbutton the bottom buttons of his shirt.
"Clark,
what are you doing?"
"Your
nose is too far away."
"Okay,
I am drunk. But I am not drunk
enough to understand that."
"Your
nose is too far away from your ass. That's
why kissing it didn't make you better. I
have to kiss something closer."
Lex
gulped, grabbing onto the couch for support, as Clark's tongue reached out to
take a tentative lick at his cock. It
wasn't kissing, but Lex wasn't about to argue the point.
His cock springing suddenly to full arousal, Lex leaned back against
the couch as much as he could without bumping the sore spot, while Clark held
on to his hips and began licking wide stripes up and down his cock. While far from expert, Clark was quite enthusiastic and Lex
felt his cock growing harder and harder.
It was blissful and wonderful and oh God, now Clark was swallowing him
and it felt damn good! Lex felt
himself coming closer and closer to the edge and then, oh God, he was coming
in Clark's mouth and oh God, Clark was swallowing!
Completely
drained, Lex sank to his knees and held Clark's face with both hands, pulled
his head down, gently and pressed his lips to Clark's.
His tongue nudged Clark's lips, seeking entrance and when Clark
acquiesced, Lex kissed him deeply and thoroughly.
***
Clark
thought this was probably the best possible way to wake up, ever:
snuggled in a warm, soft, big bed, wrapped around Lex's body.
At first, he wasn't entirely sure how he got there, or why his head
hurt so much and the light streaming in the windows was such an annoyance.
Then Lex began to stir a little and realization hit home hard.
"Oh,
crap!" Clark thought. "What
did I do?" Lex was now fully
awake, though, and he wasn't going to have time to sort things out on his own.
"Clark,
did you break my ass last night?"
"Um,
sort of. Yeah."
"Did
you give me a blow job to make up for it?"
Clark's
heart stopped. "Um,
yeah." He could feel the
full-body blush taking over.
"How
do you feel?"
"Um.
Okay, I guess. I've felt
better."
"I'm
sorry, Clark. I shouldn't have
gotten you so drunk. I shouldn't
have taken advantage of you like that."
"You
didn't take advantage of me. I
… um, Lex?"
"Clark,
I did! I should never have …"
"Lex,
are you mad at me for giving you um, for … I mean, I know you like girls and
I shouldn't have assumed it would be okay, but you were drunk and I was drunk
and horny and, and, I'm sorry!"
"You're
apologizing for getting me off? Clark,
I'm the one who should apologize. I
broke out the strong stuff in order to get you drunk."
"You
did? Why? And you're not mad at
me?"
"No,
no! Mad at you? Why
did you? You were horny?
Was it the drinking or taking off my pants?"
It
had to be impossible, but Clark felt his full-body blush deepen.
It was time for distraction. "Um
… you didn't answer my question, Lex."
"Oh.
Well, you were just so cute when you were laughing.
And then you got all serious and upset.
I wanted you laughing again."
"Oh."
"Clark,
it's okay. Really.
I mean, I liked it. A
lot."
"You
did?"
"Yes,
I did. It was wonderful. My
years and years of flirting with you finally paid off." Lex grinned back
at him.
"I
guess I'd always hoped you were flirting, but I wasn't sure, so, well, I
didn't want to mess up our friendship by asking."
"So
you broke my ass and gave me a blow job instead?" Lex said, laughing.
"Hey,
it's all or nothing with me," Clark replied.
He was smiling back, finally. The
world was good. They still had
lots of air to clear, but Lex wasn't mad at him and, in fact, liked fooling
around with him. And New Year's
Eve was just two days away and he'd be spending it with Lex this year, so
maybe for once he'd get to kiss someone he loved at midnight.
And then, things got even better …
"Hey,
I think there are some strawberries left, if you're hungry."
--The
End--