Smallville Fan Fiction ❯ Feel ❯ Feel ( Chapter 1 )

 

Title: Feel

Author: roguebitch

Rating: NC-17. There's mansex. Also schmoop. I think.

Pairing: Clark/Lex

Summary: Clark shows Lex how to feel.

Length: 4,742 words

Disclaimer: Smallville, Clark, and Lex belong to Goughillar , The CW, and Shuster/Siegel. I'm just doing this for fun. Yeah, that's right. Don't sue.

Beta: The goddess of all Smallville betas, danceswithgary, who makes me put the commas in the right places.

Feedback: is like vitamins.

Archive: Yes, just let me know.

A/N: This is the last in a story arc that began with <I>Friction</I>, and continued with <I>Penetration</I>. You should probably read those before you read this. But it might not be necessary.

The title is from the song by the same name by The Church.

 

 

It had been nearly six weeks since Lex had been back to his mansion, but who was counting? Six weeks since Clark had let Lex fuck him, six weeks since Lex had allowed Clark to see him at his most vulnerable and unprotected.

 

The day after that, Lex had sent Clark on his way with a kiss and a swat on the butt, and then fled.

 

No, Lex hadn't fled. Luthors did not flee. Luthors strategically retreated to assess their next strategy.

 

Lex sat - strategically -- in his penthouse in Metropolis, assessing. In this day and age, there was no getting away from the situation, not really. Clark sent him emails, striving to be light and not putting any pressure on Lex. Clark left voicemails meant to be neutral, but Lex could hear the hurt throbbing in his voice.

 

Lex could picture everything - Clark standing in the Kent's kitchen, phone cradled between ear and shoulder, “Hi, Lex. It's Clark. I stopped by the mansion again today. They said you were still away on business. When are you coming home? I -“ -- and here a pause, and Lex could just <I>see<I> Clark swallowing hard, “I miss you. Give me a call if you aren't too busy.”

 

Was he busy? He could be, Lex supposed. He was busy avoiding.

 

And yet, no matter where he went, feelings and images of that night would catch him off-guard. The way Clark had clenched around his cock, how his body was one big `Yes.' at the time. The way Clark had arched as he came, screaming, fisting his hands in his hair, body taut as a bowstring.

 

The way Clark had insisted he watch Lex come that time, and how Lex had fallen into Clark's eyes and gotten so lost he had to run to recover himself. He couldn't be that vulnerable to anyone.

 

Why Clark hadn't come to Metropolis to confront him, Lex didn't know. Respect for his busy schedule? Perhaps. Maybe Clark was scared, too.

 

Lex blinked, startled at himself. Was he scared?

 

What was there to be scared of? Clark was a naïve farmboy who had fallen into an affair with a wealthy and powerful Luthor.

 

Lex knew there were deep secrets behind those guileless seawater eyes. Clark was abysmal at dissembling. Lex could tell every time Clark spoke an untruth. Clark's face would go carefully blank and he would lie as he looked to the side. Then, he would glance up at Lex's face to see if Lex believed him.

 

If Clark held the secret of Lex's vulnerability, would Clark lie for him, too? Did he realize how much Lex lied to him? If he did, how could he come to Lex's bed so easily, even eagerly?

 

Lex realized he would have to face the music sometime. He should end his affair with Clark, and strive to maintain a platonic friendship with him. It endangered Clark too much for him to be involved with Lex.

 

Hell, thought Lex, it endangered <I>him</I> to be so involved with <I>Clark</I>. The very first time Clark had undressed for Lex, unconsciously striking a pose as old as the first rentboy, Lex had been overcome by the insane urge to fall at Clark's feet and worship him like a god. <I>No one</I> should have that kind of power over a Luthor.

 

Lex's hand strayed to his lap, as he was lost in reverie. He unzipped his fly and slipped out his semi-erect cock, stroking it to hardness.

 

Physically, Clark was perfect. His skin was rose-gold, as if the sun had kissed every inch of him. He had innocuous, unremarkable nipples until they were aroused, in which case they caused an immediate, instinctive response. Lex's tongue traced his lip where Clark had bitten him the first time Lex had tested that theory.

 

Lex's hand moved faster up and down his cock, as he recalled Clark's sensual responsiveness, sweat breaking out on his forehead and his breathing becoming harsh in his silent, lonely study.

 

Clark would arch and shiver into every caress Lex traced across his skin. After Lex had taught him how to kiss, Clark would either devour or drown in the kisses he shared with Lex - and those lips -- fuller than they had any right to be, especially after they had been around Lex's cock.

 

Lex's hand was a blur. His head dropped back as he spiraled into his imagination, remembering Clark's trembling lips stammering, “F-fuck me, Lex. Please!”

 

Lex grunted, hips jerking as his cock spurted hot fluid across his hand and his trousers.

 

Panting, Lex raised his hand to his mouth and tasted his come. Salty and bleachy. Clark didn't taste that way. Lex shook his head, mildly disgusted at himself. How could Clark have such a hold on him where dozens of society daughters had failed?

 

No question, then. Lex would have to return to Smallville, if only to end it and get Clark out of his system.

 

**

 

Lex returned to his mansion in Smallville during the first snowfall of the season. In a wonderful display of meteorological serendipity, it also happened to be the first blizzard of the season.

 

He stopped at the Talon for coffee and encountered Martha Kent closing up early.

 

“You should get home, Lex.” Martha said reprovingly as she handed him a cup to go. “And maybe you could call Clark when you get there. He's been moping around ever since you left.”

 

Lex was puzzled as to how much Mrs. Kent knew about his relationship with Clark, but couldn't ponder it too hard. He needed all his concentration for driving in the snow, which fell horizontally at some points.

 

After he arrived, his time was consumed with resettling, speaking to his household staff to catch up, and eating dinner. Lex was finally able to unwind in front of the fireplace, staring at the flames, brandy snifter in hand.

 

Lex jerked his head up, listening. What was that? It sounded like a thump on the balcony. Another one sounded on the glass of the doors that led to it.

 

Unnerved, Lex got up to investigate. There was at least a foot of snow on the balcony, and it mounded up when he pushed the door open. He leaned over the railing, peering through the still-falling snow.

 

“Who's there?” he called out. Something hit him in the chest hard enough to stagger him. Lex looked down at himself, expecting to see blood and finding snow. A snowball? Who would hit him with a snowball?

 

“Why didn't you call me?” cried a hurt voice, and Lex could vaguely make out a shape in the blowing snow.

 

“Clark?”

 

A sudden rush of wind, and Clark was in front of him, snow collecting on his hair, shoulders, and eyelashes. He looks like an angry angel, thought Lex ridiculously.

 

“My mother told me you stopped at the Talon on your way here. I waited for you to call. Why haven't you called?” Clark's fists were balled up in the pockets of his barn coat as if he were forcibly restraining himself. Aquamarine eyes brimmed with unhappiness as they regarded Lex.

 

“I was going to…” Lex stopped himself. “Let's not do this out here. Come inside.”

 

He ushered Clark indoors. Clark shuffled in, shoulders slumped, making quite a different picture from the defiant and sulky youth Lex had encountered in his study at the beginning of all this.

 

Clark turned to face Lex again, peering through a damp fall of hair. Snow melting off his eyelashes streaked his cheeks like tears, but the look he gave Lex was more steel than sweet.

 

“I owe you an apology, Clark.” Lex began, before Clark opened his mouth. “I should have called. Weeks ago.”

 

Clark regarded Lex steadily, his gaze giving nothing away.

 

“The truth is I shouldn't have let things go so far between us. I'm older, and I should have put a stop to it.”

 

Clark's brows drew down and a look of incredulity crossed his face.

 

“No,” he protested. “Oh, no way. I know a breakup speech when I hear it. You don't really believe what you're saying, Lex.”

 

Lex forced an indulgent laugh. “Really, Clark. A breakup speech?”

 

“It's not as if you could have sent me some diamond earrings, Lex.”

 

Even though this was delivered in a perfectly reasonable tone of voice - <I>of course</I> Lex couldn't do such a thing - the statement still stung.

 

Clark continued, oblivious to Lex's discomfort. “Here's a nice <I>trinket</I>, Clark. Thanks for the <I>fuck</I>, Clark. Don't bother calling, Clark,” he said bitterly.

 

“Did you just…?” Lex interrupted, incredulous. “What are you, some lovesick teenager?”

 

“Did it really mean nothing to you?” Clark stood rooted to the spot. He stared into Lex's face. His expression made it look as if he'd never been hurt before -- new, raw, and confused. Clark forged ahead, words tumbling from his mouth. “Because if it did mean nothing, then why did you let me into your room, let me be with you, and - just - why, Lex? Didn't it mean anything at all?” Clark's head drooped.

 

“It meant something to me,” Clark whispered brokenly, and Lex felt something inside him torque painfully.

 

“Please, sit down, Clark.” Lex's voice came out more kindly than he meant it to. Clark glanced over at him, daring and hopeful, and then let Lex shepherd to the couch by the fire. He sat, staring at his hands, clasped in front of him. Lex sat next to him.

 

“You're right. It was unkind of me to leave you hanging like that. And no, having sex with you wasn't meaningless to me. It was glorious. I was, and still am, grateful to you for what you gave to me.” Lex could feel the heat of Clark's body reaching out to him. It was distracting.

 

“But the fact is it shouldn't have happened.” Lex carried on. “I'm older, I should have known better. I shouldn't have gotten you entangled in such a way.”

 

“You make it sound like I didn't have a choice - like I couldn't choose for myself.” Clark stated.

 

Lex spread out his hands in an `if-the-shoe-fits' gesture. Clark surprised him by laughing derisively.

 

“I told you before, Lex, you can't hurt me. Physically. If you were doing something I didn't like, I could easily stop you.” Bravado gleamed out of Clark's eyes.

 

“Of course, there are other ways you've been able to hurt me.” The defiant light went out as Clark mumbled the last words.

 

“I'm not some dumb hick dazzled by your attentions, Lex. I wasn't seduced by the Luthor name. When you touched me, I wanted it. When you were inside me, I wanted that. Because it was good and because it was you.” Clark moved closer to Lex, so close that Lex could feel Clark's breath on his cheek.

 

“You were right about one thing, Lex. I am a lovesick teenager.”

 

Clark put his hand on Lex's shoulder and turned Lex's face to his. Clark nuzzled Lex's cheek and slid his lips across Lex's. Lex found himself pulled in, his mouth opening under Clark's, hands rising of their own volition to twine into Clark's still-damp hair.

 

“Admit you missed this, Lex.” Clark whispered against Lex's lips. “Tell me you missed me.”

 

Lex gritted his teeth against the tumult of impulses: to confess and be forgiven, even loved -- or to rebel against the idiot tide of lust even now pulling blood from his brain into his cock.

 

Clark wasn't helping. While Lex was waging an internal battle, Clark was planting nibbling tiny kisses on Lex's face, around his ear, anywhere tender flesh presented itself.

 

Lex couldn't think. Whenever Clark was near him, touching him, all other concerns were rendered unimportant.

 

“Clark.” Lex's voice was hoarse. “When you do that, I can't think.”

 

“You think too much, Lex.” Clark responded. “Why don't you just feel for a change?”

 

“Have you thought? About the ramifications?” returned Lex, moving himself slightly out of kissing range.

 

“Lex, you've been gone six weeks. I've thought about a lot of stuff concerning us.”

 

“And what conclusion did you reach?”

 

“The conclusion I reached was…” Clark blurred and Lex found himself flat on his back, Clark over him holding him down, “…that I don't care what happens.”

 

Lex looked up into Clark's eyes, and began to lose himself again. He struggled to find something to stop his freefall into that gaze.

 

“What about the lies, Clark?” he asked quietly, arresting Clark's descent for another kiss.

 

“Lies?” Clark replied, face going carefully blank.

 

Gotcha, Lex thought.

 

“Do you think we can have any sort of honest relationship if we're unable to be truthful with each other?”

 

“No. We can't.” Clark didn't move. “We need to be honest with each other.”

 

Clark took a deep breath. “You remember that meteor shower you were in as a kid - the one that caused you to lose all your hair?”

 

“I could hardly forget such a traumatic event, Clark,” Lex returned smoothly.

 

“Well, it was sort of my fault.” Clark continued. Lex opened his mouth to scoff, but Clark talked over him. “The meteors were all that was left of my home planet, Krypton. My parents put me in a ship that crash-landed here on Earth on the same day. My mom and dad found me, and your father helped them legally adopt me…” Clark's gaze flicked to and away from Lex's face, “…and here I am. I'm different. I have abilities. My parents wanted me to blend in as much as possible, which means lying all the time -- to everybody. Including to you. <I>Especially</I> to you.”

 

Clark seemed to be finished. He was holding Lex's gaze desperately, as if willing him to believe with his eyes that this time he was telling the truth.

 

“You realize that's a pretty far-fetched story.” Lex started. Clark nodded, looking miserable. “If I didn't have credible evidence I'd seen with my own eyes, I never would be able to believe it.” Lex stopped and raised his hand, cupping Clark's jaw. “But I do believe it. And I believe you.”

 

“You do?” Clark's smile was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

 

So naïve, Lex thought. He really needs to protect himself better.

 

“I can even understand your parents wanting you to be cautious, to blend in, and to dissemble. After all, we Luthors do have a tendency to take advantage of people.” Lex stroked his thumb along Clark's cheekbone, watching Clark's eyes darken as he leaned into the caress.

 

“My turn to be honest, Clark,” Lex's voice was soft.

 

“Ever since you saved my life, I've been obsessed with you. I've wanted to know who this amazing, wondrous - sometimes annoying and obstructive - person was. The more I learned about you -- the more mysterious you seemed and the more I wanted to know you, be close to you, and be inside you.”

 

“Why did you leave, Lex?” Clark's eyes were closed, his voice a compelling whisper.

 

“I left because I was afraid.” Lex's voice was low. He felt as if he were tearing something loose inside of him. “I was afraid of how I felt - how I feel - about you. How vulnerable you make me feel and how easily I let you get past all my natural defenses.”

 

“Is it so terrible, how I make you feel?” Clark's voice was gentle.

 

Lex laughed, a quick bark. “No, it's not terrible at all! It's wonderful. But that's the problem. It's so easy. It feels so right. How can that possibly make any sense?”

 

“Lex, I think you need to stop trying to rationalize this. Just let yourself feel.” Clark lowered himself the rest of the way down and brushed his lips across Lex's.

 

Clark kissed Lex slowly and thoroughly, his soft lips insistent until Lex opened his own mouth and Clark's tongue flickered inside, a lick of flame, igniting.

 

Lex brought his other hand up to hold Clark's face as they kissed, Lex feeling as if he were territory that Clark was claiming with his mouth.

 

Clark broke off the kiss, and Lex gasped, “God.”

 

Clark pulled off his shirt and then ripped Lex's completely off him, throwing the pieces to the floor. Clark had an avid expression on his face that Lex had never seen before: part hunger, part anger, and part satisfaction.

 

Clark smoothed his hands down Lex's chest, broad palms raising a flush over Lex's skin. Lex arched under him, his eyes never leaving Clark's face, watching to see how his surrender was affecting the younger man. A small smile played over Clark's lips, and he looked both happy and satisfied. His thumbs traced over Lex's abdomen, across his navel, to the waistband of his trousers.

 

“Clark, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't destroy my pants.” Lex wasn't pleased at how <I>breathless</I> he sounded. Clark grinned at the request, and moved his thumbs further down, sweeping an outline of Lex's erect cock through the fabric. Lex made a strangled noise in his throat and involuntarily thrust his hips. Clark pressed down on Lex's hips, holding him in place effortlessly, and leaned in again to kiss Lex. This kiss was soft and gentle and aching in its tenderness. Clark moved his mouth lower, kissing slowly down Lex's jaw and neck, across his collarbones, and ever downward, his skin silken heat flowing over Lex's body.

 

Lex was losing focus again. He couldn't maintain any sort of objectivity or strategic thought when he was with Clark. Even less now that Clark was holding him down with that magnificent, otherworldly <I>strength</I>. It was almost a relief to be at the mercy of someone Lex knew would never hurt him.

 

That thought was what undid him completely.

 

Clark, busy somewhere in the vicinity of Lex's waistband, didn't see Lex's look of shock and sudden, rapid blinking.

 

Clark would never hurt him. Clark wanted to be with him, damn the consequences. Clark loved him, despite all the lying and dissembling -- the stupid little dance they'd been enacting since that day on the bridge.

 

Of course, he loved Clark.

 

He'd spent the last few weeks dodging the question and the consequences and getting in his own way about it because he was so frightened at the thought of being vulnerable all the time -- when that wasn't the case at all.

 

Being loved by Clark would mean having his protection forever. Being loved by Clark meant that Lex could relax into that strength whenever he needed to. Being loved by Clark meant that Lex could always be himself with him.

 

“Lex, stop thinking. Feel.” Clark's muffled voice snapped Lex out of his reverie, and he looked down at the other man, whose face was buried in his stomach. Lex smiled.

 

“Make me.” he replied.

 

Clark looked up at that, saw the smile, and responded with another of his own high-wattage grins. With exaggerated care, he unbuttoned and unzipped Lex's trousers, sliding them down Lex's thighs, taking his briefs, socks and shoes with them. He stood to remove them all the way and shucked his own damp jeans, boxers, and boots.

 

Lex just watched. He could stare at Clark's physical perfection all day. But there was the small issue of six weeks of deprivation to be taken care of before much longer.

 

“Clark. Come here.” Lex held out both his arms, and Clark knelt over Lex again, fitting himself to the other man, hip to hip, chest to chest. Their cocks nestled against each other, heat against heat. Their lips met again in a kiss both tender and searing. Again Lex threaded his fingers through Clark's hair, hands cradling his head, holding Clark's mouth to his. Clark whimpered and rolled his hips against Lex, making his cock glide bumpily against Lex's.

 

“I-I want…” Clark stammered, as he always did when arousal stripped his rational thought processes away. Lex gripped Clark's jaw, held his gaze with his own.

 

“Whatever you want, Clark. Anything.” Lex's body was screaming at him for release. If it would end the unbearable tension in his cock and balls, end the deprivation of previous weeks, he would do it.

 

“I want to be inside you.” Clark's voice was suddenly clear and strong.

 

“Yes.” It was all Lex had left to give of himself, and he would give it to Clark.

 

Clark leaned over, rummaged in his discarded coat, and pulled out a small tube. Lex couldn't help the snort that escaped him, and Clark gave him a slightly embarrassed grin.

 

“I had hopes,” Clark explained.

 

“Evidently,” Lex replied. “Let me see you use that.”

 

Clark knelt, straddling Lex's thighs, and poured the lube into his palm. Eyes on Lex's face, he stroked the length of his cock with it, making it flush darker with every pass. He gasped, eyes falling closed as his fingers and thumb stroked over the crown. Lex reached out, curling his hand under Clark's, joining him as he moved his palm over the slippery skin. Clark fell forward to hold himself up on one trembling arm, sweat beading on his upper lip and forehead.

 

“Come on, Clark,” Lex murmured. Clark's eyes shot open, flashing light and heat, and his hips jerked as he came, painting Lex's stomach with stripes of fluid. Lex kept their hands moving until Clark was done, panting and shivery, collapsing onto Lex's chest.

 

“That wasn't supposed to happen,” mumbled Clark into Lex's neck.

 

“It's okay,” Lex reassured him. “I wanted it to. This way we'll have a little more time. You're young. It'll take you no time to be ready to go again.”

 

Clark's hand was playing in the sticky mess next to Lex's cock, drawing loops and curls, fingertips skating into the cut of his hip and making Lex shudder against him. Clark's fingers stroked lower, down around Lex's balls, drawn up close and tight, and into the shadowy space behind them. Sticky fingers quested further back until they encountered Lex's anus.

 

Lex spread his legs, lifting up, breathing fast. Clark lifted his head, looking into Lex's face.

 

“Is this okay?” he asked. Lex nodded, not trusting his voice.

 

Clark's fingers circled and circled, stroking Lex open, and then slipping inside. Lex breathed out, amazed by the look of wonder on Clark's face. He could feel Clark's cock stirring against him already, becoming full and heavy.

 

Clark's fingers crooked against his prostate and Lex jerked against him, tightening.

 

“Ah,” Clark smiled. “Now I get it.” He pressed again and Lex moaned aloud, grabbing Clark's biceps.

 

“If you are going to be inside me,” Lex panted, “I'd like it to be now. Soon. Please.”

 

Clark removed his fingers slowly, and Lex tried not to feel too lost at the emptiness. Clark found a pillow to put under Lex, and then moved between his legs. Clark's cock was hard again, thanks to the short recovery time of youth. He slicked himself up again with lube and leaned forward. Lex stared up at Clark as he felt the head of his cock tease at his opening.

 

“It's okay. You'll have to go slowly at first, but it'll be all right,” Lex murmured. It'd been a long time since he'd been in this position, but he remembered exactly how it went. He breathed out as he felt Clark press forward, and then the unbelievable sensation of being filled, of being taken, overwhelmed him. Clark was braced over him, arms trembling, lower lip caught between his teeth. Sweat was starting to run down Clark's face. As Lex watched, a drop fell from his nose and landed on Lex's forehead. Lex blinked and laughed, and so did Clark. Clark leaned forward and licked it up.

 

“Tell me how it feels, Clark,” urged Lex. He liked hearing how fragmented Clark became when he was really aroused. He found the jerky way Clark talked a big turn-on.

 

“Um. A-a-amazing. Really hot and tight. S-smooth.” Clark rolled his hips forward a little more, seating himself further in Lex. Lex lifted and drove himself further down, making Clark gasp.

 

“How does it feel for you?” Clark managed to say.

 

“Like you're not moving enough,” Lex complained. “I want you to fuck me, Clark. Can you do that?”

 

Exasperation crossed Clark's face for a brief moment, and Lex snorted. It was just too easy to goad him at times.

 

“You have to tell me if I hurt you,” Clark warned. “I sometimes don't know my own strength.”

 

Then Clark moved in Lex, and there wasn't anything else to say. Lex scrabbled to grab on, locking his ankles together low on Clark's back, fingers digging into his shoulders. Every scrape-slide of Clark's cock inside him sent shocks of static off behind his eyes, and he raised himself to get better sensation, better friction across his prostate as Clark thrust and he thrust back.

 

Through it all, his eyes never left Clark's. When he felt himself begin to get lost and drown in that unblinking acceptance, Lex let himself go with it.

 

“Clark—God, you…” gasped Lex, hand moving to hold Clark's face, thumb stroking along the full lower lip. Clark's tongue darted out, swiping across the digit, and then sucking it into his mouth. Lex closed his eyes.

 

“No - Lex, stay with me,” Clark mumbled around his thumb. Lex opened his eyes again, his vision swimming, feeling Clark's hand snake through the mess on his stomach, wrapping around his aching cock, pulling up.

 

Lex took in a breath like a sob, feeling his body arch and clench around and under Clark as he came. The last he saw before the world broke up in kaleidoscope shards was Clark's eyes, wide with awe. Then he had to close his eyes, and Clark let him.

 

Lex felt Clark's orgasm hard on the heels of his own, felt everything as Clark collapsed on top of him, shaking and gasping Lex's name. With the last of his conscious strength, Lex put his arms around Clark, pulling him closer, placing a kiss on top of his head. Some wriggling caused disengagement and a disgruntled noise from Clark.

 

Some time later, Clark stirred in Lex's arms and looked up at him.

 

“Lex?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“Was it all right?”

 

Oh, Clark, thought Lex. So worried and conscientious.

 

“It was magnificent, Clark. <I>You</I> are magnificent.”

 

Another blinding smile. Really, Lex would have to make a habit of saying ridiculously complimentary things just so he could see that smile more often.

 

Now that his nerve endings were no longer sparking like live wires, Lex noticed that he was cold and sticky, except in the areas where Clark was lying on him.

 

“Clark, I want to get cleaned up. Would you take a shower with me?”

 

“Sure,” Clark affirmed, not moving.

 

“It does require that you get up, Clark.” Lex reached around and pinched Clark's buttock. This garnered no response, and Lex remembered that Clark was nigh-invulnerable…so he blew into Clark's ear. Clark jerked up and glared at Lex.

 

“I didn't realize you meant right now,” Clark grumbled, getting off Lex. He reached down and hauled Lex up to his feet. Lex looked at the ruin of his couch cushions and shook his head, tsking in mock disapproval.

 

“At least the leather is easy to clean,” he noted. He took Clark's hand and led him into the shower, where they alternated slow kissing in the spray with diligent scrubbing.

 

They went to bed together, slept together, and woke together. They talked and made love, made love and talked, and at some point Lex made Clark understand that he loved him, and Clark restated that he loved Lex.

 

Eventually, Clark had to go home and Lex had to go back to work. Between them was an agreement that they would no longer run from each other and no longer keep secrets. They were together.

 

**

 

“Are you ready?” Clark asked, meeting Lex on the porch of the Kent's house.

 

“I don't know.” Lex switched the bouquet of flowers from one hand to the other nervously. “I've never had to do this before.”

 

“What's the worst that can happen?” Clark countered.

 

“Your parents disown you, kick you out, and you come live in the mansion with me?” Lex replied hopefully.

 

Clark kissed him quickly. “Come on, dinner's ready.”

 

Clark opened the door and walked into the house, Lex behind him. “Mom? Dad? Lex is here. We have something to tell you.”

 

-- fin