Smallville Fan Fiction ❯ Friction ❯ Friction ( Chapter 1 )

Title: Friction

Author: roguebitch

Words: 4145

Rating: X. XXX. For cocksucking, frottage, and ottoman abuse.

Disclaimer: Lex Luthor and Clark Kent and Smallville belong to Shuster/Siegel and Warner Brothers, respectively. I'm just playing with them. I promise to clean them up and put them away when I'm done.

Description: Clark's life has a lot of friction.

A/N: This is my first slash and my first Smallville story. It was difficult for a number of reasons, one of which being that I had to get my head out of Larry Niven's essay “Man of Steel, Woman of Kleenex”, which delineates exactly why Clark can't have sex with anyone. It's hard to overcome one's personal mythology.

It also came out of my frustration at the Smallville slash I was reading - it was all very excellent, but it wasn't screamy enough. So I wrote the story I wanted to read.

The title comes from the Television song of the same name, although the version I like best is by The Church. Who doesn't like friction?

Beta cred: Superbig special thanks to fullygoldy who is the diva of betas! You should get author credit on this one!

 

 

 

Clark couldn't say when the conversations between him and Lex went from being merely oblique and instead became fraught. For a guy whose whole life was layers of subtlety, Clark wasn't exactly master of it himself. All he knew was that whenever Lex spoke to him, Clark got lost in the spaces between the words and the shape of Lex's mouth making them.

 

All he knew was how he pictured that mouth, felt those pauses, creating the most jagged of crescendos as he jerked himself off nightly. When it wasn't Lana, all luminous eyes and innocent intentions, it was Lex with his fascinating mouth and frustrating lack of commitment to any standard Clark could measure him by, that caused him to wrap one large firm hand around one large firm cock and pull - slide - fasterfaster - until he came, panting noisily through his nose.

 

More often it was Lex, which confused Clark. Shouldn't he be pining for Lana, not distracted by Lex's silences?

 

Clark could pretty much plot how it might happen with Lana, from first melting kiss to bared breasts to mysterious womanhood to incandescent yet tender first time making love. If Clark ever tried to picture anything with Lex, it got all tangled up. Clark didn't know how things would go. All he could do was focus on details: mouth, pauses, Lex standing too close for civilized comfort, details that left Clark mopping up yet another sticky mess with a discarded t-shirt.

 

(If his mother ever noticed Clark's sudden dedication to doing his own laundry, she wisely never mentioned it.)

 

Clark didn't even know how to start.

 

There were some days where Clark wanted to just rage - hit things, throw things, explode - tired of the sideways habits of duplicity in his life. He couldn't just talk to people - not Lana, not Chloe, not Lex. It was no wonder he seemed evasive to them - he was. Some days, it grated on him. But of course, he couldn't hit or throw things. What could he hit that wouldn't explode into powder? What could he throw that wouldn't become a suborbital projectile? (And thanks to the cave and its cranial download, now Clark knew the word “suborbital.” Not that he knew what he would do with the knowledge. Except not throw his family's farm equipment into the atmosphere.)

 

It was a day like this that Clark slammed - carefully - into the Luthor mansion. He was frustrated. Chloe was busy with a story and not inclined to humor him. He wasn't getting any further with Lana, who just wanted him to be definitive about something. Pete was distracted with a new girl at school, and unavailable for male bonding. Mom was delivering produce and Dad was upset with him for doing something not quite up to par. Clark stomped into Lex's study, simmering. Lex wasn't there, so Clark threw himself into an expensive leather armchair and sulked.

 

“Clark,” Lex's amused drawl came from behind him. “I'd say I didn't hear you come in, but they probably heard you all the way in Metropolis.”

 

Clark glowered.

 

Lex walked around the chair and pulled up the matching ottoman, the size and squareness of a coffee table. He seated himself with spread knees angled toward Clark. “Want to talk about it?”

 

Clark darted a glance at Lex. Lex's mouth held the hint of a smile, as if he were all too amused to find a sulky teenager in his study.

 

“No.” Clark bit off, returning his glare to the middle distance, somewhere over Lex's left shoulder.

 

“Come on, Clark. If you don't talk about it, it'll just come out elsewhere in very unhealthy ways.”

 

Clark could think of a few unhealthy things that Lex had done with his bottled-up rage - making power plays against his father, for example. So he was hardly in a position to advise Clark on what he should or should not do with his own anger. Clark sighed noisily, rubbed his hands over his face and scrubbed them through his hair. Meeting Lex's eyes, he said, “I'm just having a really frustrating day.” He couldn't resist pouting.

 

Lex scooted the ottoman closer to Clark. Suddenly, his knees were between Clark's thighs, and Clark was uncomfortably - thrillingly - close to him.

 

“I know what you mean.” Lex was sympathetic. “The kind of day where you either want to fuck something or fuck something up.”

 

A slow motion supernova went off in Clark's brain as he watched Lex's mouth say the word not once, but twice. Teeth in lower lip for the “eff”, tongue dropped back and mouth open for the “uh”, and a back of the tongue click for the “k”.

 

No one in Clark's world talked that way. The bundle of implications contained in that raw word blew a circuit in Clark's brain. He went still, hands clenching the arms of his chair. Absolutely everything in him went stiff. He stared at Lex.

 

Lex went on as if he hadn't noticed the effect his words had on Clark. “Am I right?” He leaned even closer.

 

Clark closed his eyes, trying to block out the sight of Lex so close, but when he did, he could still feel him. He could feel Lex's body heat, especially between his legs, smell the incredibly subtle cologne Lex used. Clark felt Lex's breath on his cheek.

 

He opened his eyes and Lex was so achingly close. He flicked another glance up to Lex's coolly challenging eyes. Clark's frustration peaked. All the nights spent thinking of Lex kaleidascoped through his mind and tumbled straight into his cock, which was now pointing True North. Clark lunged. He was gratified to see Lex's eyes register surprise before they collided.

 

Clark clamped his mouth on Lex's, scrabbling at his shirt, forcing his tongue past Lex's teeth. Lex tasted - oh. Like mint and coffee and warm and wet and Clark delved deeper, reaching for something that had no name except More. Lex, instead of repelling this assault, cupped his hands around Clark's jaw, holding his chin, forcibly slowing the kiss down until it was a slow serpentine dance of testing, tasting, and touching.

 

Clark calmed, his hands on the rumpled mess of Lex's shirt, so completely absorbed in the kiss that he could have been just a machine for kissing. He whimpered into Lex's mouth.

 

Lex moved slightly, brushing his knee against Clark's crotch. Clark inhaled sharply and his grip convulsed on Lex's shirt. Shuddering, he pulled Lex closer, practically dragging (okay, actually dragging) him halfway onto his lap.

 

Lex broke the kiss, laughing. “Careful, Clark. Do you want to fuck me, or fuck me up?”

 

Clark's answer was a quiet snarl as he separated Lex from his knit shirt. He shed his own shirt, wanting skin, wanting to feel Lex against him. He hooked an arm around Lex's neck and brought that dirty mouth back to where he wanted it: on his own.

 

He felt Lex's hands tracing his ribcage, up to his chest. A violent pinch and tug on his nipples jolted Clark down to his cock and he bit Lex's lip in shocked pleasure. Lex jerked his head away, tongue chasing blood. Clark stared at Lex's mouth avidly, followed his bloody tongue with his eyes as if it were prey.

 

Lex stared at Clark with an unfamiliar intensity. “Take off the rest of your clothes,” he ordered, standing up. Clark jumped to his feet, fingers scrabbling across his fly to obey as quickly as possible.

 

Lex's gaze traveled over Clark's body. “You don't even have a farmer's tan.” he murmured. Clark's cock was so hard it was slightly curved and pulsing. Lex's frank look was making him even harder.

 

“Your pants.” Clark demanded. “Take them off. I want to see you.”

 

But Lex wasn't mindless in his desire. “Touch yourself while I'm doing it” he returned. Clark was momentarily thrown. What? Touch himself?

 

“I want to see how you touch yourself when you think of me,” Lex said, fingers waiting on the fly of his pants.

 

Oh, that. Clark stared at Lex as he let his hands travel down his chest. He rubbed his palms over his stomach, tickled long fingers through the trail of hair under his navel, and up his cock. Lex's gaze followed Clark's hands, as if he were the one with heat vision, burning every inch that Clark's fingers explored. Clark closed his eyes for a split-second as he palmed his cock and when he opened them, Lex stood before him, unadorned.

 

He gulped. Lex really didn't have any hair at all. Anywhere. He was marble pale next to Clark's all-over tan. Lex's cock was ruddy pink and Clark couldn't stop looking at it. Lex was exactly one stride away and Clark tore his gaze away from Lex's cock as Lex came close. Lex ran a finger down Clark's chest to where he was still holding himself. Clark quivered.

 

“Don't stop, Clark.” Lex whispered. “Is this really what you do when you think of me?”

 

“Yes,” Clark breathed, then gasped as Lex seized him right above his own hand.

 

“Like this?” Lex fisted Clark's cock, pumping up and down. “You want it faster, slower, tighter, wetter?”

 

Clark had erection-induced aphasia. Nothing Lex was saying made any sense to him and it was annoying. “Stop. Talking.” he gritted out, before kissing Lex again.

 

Tracing his tongue around the bloody wound in Lex's lip was indescribably exciting - at last, a vulnerability he could exploit. He played with it as Lex kept doing more and more distracting things with his hand.

 

Lex moved closer and his cock bumped up against Clark's inner hip. Clark broke the kiss and looked down curiously - so like him, but utterly different.

 

“It's okay, Clark.” Lex's voice was all amused tolerance, with a bit of a ragged edge. “You can touch me. I want you to.”

 

Clark grabbed Lex by the arms, then stopped. Would he hurt Lex? He wanted to get closer.

 

“You can be rougher. I won't break.”

 

Taking Lex at his word, Clark dug his fingers into Lex's skin, dragging them coarsely across his chest, fascinated by the pink, then red marks that rose in their wake. Lex's head dropped back, and he moaned quietly, which was probably as good as a scream in anyone else. Clark licked Lex's Adam's apple.

 

“Yessss.” Lex's hand stilled so Clark moved until his cock was alongside Lex's. Heat met heat and Lex reached around to Clark's ass, pulling them together.

 

Clark copied him, astonished at how Lex's ass was flat and firm, nothing like Lana's pert round bottom. He stroked the plane of Lex's butt, rewarded by a mumbled assent, and firmer rubbing of their cocks together.

 

Lex's skin tasted like salt and cinnamon. Clark could taste Lex's sweat as he nipped along Lex's neck to his shoulder, drawing hisses and grunts from him and raising nice pink marks along the way. Lex was pushing against Clark, responding to his rough enthusiastic explorations. Clark wanted to taste more of Lex, so he knelt on the ottoman in front of him. Clark licked Lex's chest with broad strokes of his tongue until he reached Lex's nipples. He tongued the disks until they became hard, then nibbled them until they were ridges, one ear listening to Lex's breathing change, the other deaf to everything but the inner monologue of sensation. He liked the sound of his teeth as they scraped the taut skin, the intricate change of Lex's breath as it came faster.

 

Clark felt Lex's trembling even as he fisted his hand in Clark's hair. He obviously needed a handhold. When Clark swept his tongue through Lex's navel, Lex swayed, and Clark stopped and looked up.

 

“You want to sit down?” Clark asked solicitously.

 

“I want you to suck my cock, Clark,” Lex snapped, composure destroyed. Clark smiled inwardly, seeing the usually unflappable Lex so undone, and continued his explorations. He licked downward until Lex's cock bumped his cheek. Clark nuzzled it along his face until the head grazed his lips. He rubbed it against his mouth, marveling at how soft-hard it was, and darted his tongue out for a brave taste of the head. Lex hissed through his teeth. Clark circled the tip with rounded lips, licking the salty-bleachy precome off the slit, guiding Lex's cock deeper into his mouth.

 

Lex had both hands buried in Clark's hair, which would've been painful for anyone else, but served as a great way for Clark to tell the effect he was having as he conducted his research of the best way to suck Lex's cock. He sucked and swirled his tongue around the head and length, noisily and sloppily and enthusiastically, not only sucking but consuming Lex down to the very base. Lex moved his hips involuntarily, fucking Clark's mouth. Clark moaned, nothing in his mind but how good it felt to have Lex in there. His nose bumped Lex's belly on the downstroke. Lex clamped his hands in Clark's hair, moved his head just so. Clark's hands cupped Lex's ass, absently stroking as it moved with Lex's thrusts.

 

Lex pulled Clark off him so suddenly that there was a pop! of suction and spit trailed from his lips to Lex's cock. He gasped. Lex wrenched Clark's head up so that he was looking into Lex's face. Lex was flushed, panting, sweaty and - angry?

 

“This is not the way this is supposed to go.” Lex growled. He pulled Clark up by his hair, until they were face to face again. He forced Clark's mouth to his and kissed him savagely. Lex's mouth was a cool contrast against the friction-induced heat of Clark's. Clark liked being manhandled this way, liked knowing he was doing something right, something that pushed Lex past his composure. He returned the kiss with gusto, fighting Lex's anger down with his mouth.

 

 

Lex broke the kiss and, never moving his gaze from Clark's, raised his hand to his mouth and licked the palm. Clark watched him dazedly. He couldn't even begin to guess what Lex's intentions were. The dark intensity of his gaze disturbed and excited Clark. When Lex slid his now-slick hand onto Clark, he gasped and wavered. Lex put his arm around Clark's waist and pulled him in tightly so that they were chest-to-chest, breathing together.

 

Clark was delirious. He was nothing more than the sensation of Lex's hand around his cock, working up and down, the smell of Lex's skin and the sound of his breathing. Clark couldn't see. He rested his forehead on Lex's shoulder and held on. If he rocked his hips a little faster, would it — ? Oh yes. Clark whined, whimpering on the exhale.

 

Lex stilled his hand. “No! Don't stop!” Clark actually yelled, feeling the build recede tragically. Lex chuckled.

 

“I'm not done.” Lex nudged Clark backwards until his calves hit the ottoman. “Sit down.”

 

Clark sat, feeling the leather under his ass warming to his body. Lex leaned into Clark, kissed him long and salacious. He nuzzled Clark's jaw until Clark tilted his head, then Lex flicked his tongue along the thin flesh down to the collarbone. “Oh,” Clark said, breathless wonder in his tone. On his knees, Lex nibbled Clark's collarbone and laid broad kisses on his chest, paying special attention to the nipples like bull's-eyes. He sucked at one until it peaked. Then he scoured it with his tongue and teeth until Clark's “Oh”s became less wondering and more fervent. Clark cupped his hand around the back of Lex's head and held him there. Lex transferred his attentions to the nipple's twin and Clark started chanting “Ohgod. Ohgod. Ohgod,” thrusting his cock against Lex's chest, aching for some friction.

 

Lex blew across Clark's chest and gently removed Clark's hand from his head. He rubbed his cheek down Clark's stomach, reaching the sparse trail of hair that circled his navel. Lex thrust his tongue into the depression and Clark bucked, nearly toppling Lex to the floor. Lex braced himself with his hands on either side of Clark's thighs and moved lower. But not to Clark's cock. Instead, Lex made a frustrating swerve away from Clark's cock to his hipbone. Lex flickered his tongue over and into the crease where the hip joined the pubic area. Clark spread his legs wider. He arched his back to thrust at the air as Lex moved lower and licked at Clark's balls, sucking one into his mouth gently. Clark's moans yet again peaked. He clutched at the ottoman so hard he left handprints in the leather.

 

Clark didn't know he could feel so many different kinds of good. He was mindless with it, waiting for the next amazing thing Lex would do to him. He collapsed onto the ottoman and was surprised to feel Lex pull him forward a bit.

 

Lex put his mouth on Clark, and Clark's brain went completely offline. Lightning seared his vision and he was sure he screamed, but Lex didn't stop. He sucked Clark's cock down to the base, undulating his tongue in ripples down the length. Clark moved his hips and then Lex's hands were underneath him spreading him apart and - what?

 

“Wh-What are you doing?” Clark froze.

 

“Relax.” said Lex, tone silky. “I won't hurt you.”

 

Clark looked down the length of his body at Lex, who was slathering his index finger with spit. Since Lex talking meant he wasn't sucking Clark's cock, Clark didn't ask again. He just lay back down.

 

Lex put the head of Clark's cock in his mouth again, swirling his tongue around the crown, dipping into the slit. Clark shook, nerves frayed by so much sensation. Lex massaged the area behind Clark's balls, smearing spit that had dripped down there further up until he reached Clark's anus.

 

Clark didn't even stiffen - he wanted more. More of Lex's mouth on his cock, more of his hands anywhere, more feeling. So when Lex stroked his anus with his wet finger, Clark exhaled and surrendered. “Yes.” He lifted his hips and Lex slid his finger inside. Clark felt gloriously spiked. His inner walls rippled as Lex's finger thrust further in. He panted and spread his legs even wider.

 

Clark was stupid with pleasure, feeling nothing but the closed circuit of Lex's mouth on his cock, Lex's finger in his ass. Lex sucked and tongued and thrust and something loomed and built for Clark until he was rocking into Lex, moaning and stuttering. Like a storm wave it towered and Clark had a breathless instant of sanity wondering if it might not kill him when it crashed and then it -

 

He almost flung Lex off him again as he came, but Lex rode him down, arm wrapped around Clark's waist. Clark heard himself bellowing as if from a far distance, through static, as he flew apart in the storm of his orgasm. He finally collapsed, twitching and wheezing, splayed on his back. He shuddered once as Lex gently removed his finger from Clark's ass, then pulled off him entirely, swallowing a final time.

 

Clark moaned and tried to move. Every single limb and muscle he owned told him in no uncertain terms to fuck off. Since he wasn't used to his body talking to him like that, he subsided.

 

“Mm.” Clark said. His groin area felt sodden and fantastically ruined. He cobbled together enough coordination to lift his head and look down at Lex. Clark smiled, felt his face splitting open with bliss, but Lex merely quirked his lips and raised an eyebrow. His lips were swollen and red and Clark fixed his gaze on them.

 

“C'mere.” Lex rose and leaned over Clark, kissing him slowly and thoroughly. Clark could taste his come in Lex's mouth and the combination of flavors was unexpectedly exciting. Lex's cock, still hard, brushed Clark's leg.

 

“Did you, ah, want something too?” murmured Clark.

 

“Why yes, Clark, there is something I want.” Lex's voice wasn't silky anymore. “Turn over,” he ordered sharply. His tone sent a shivery jolt through Clark and he rolled onto his stomach without even thinking. He noticed that the ottoman had grown very slippery beneath him.

 

“Lex, what — ?”

 

“Patience,” replied Lex inexorably. Clark yipped in surprise as Lex parted his ass cheeks and began sloppily licking a very sensitive area.

 

“Lex, I don't think I'm ready for that,” Clark blurted nervously.

 

“Oh, I know.” Lex chuckled. “I have something in mind other than sodomy.” He slathered spit up into the crack and continued kissing and licking up Clark's spine. As he went up, Lex fitted his cock into Clark's lubricated crack, until he was nestled against him, bracing himself on either side of Clark's shoulders.

 

“Ready?” he breathed into Clark's ear. “It's my turn.” He moved his cock in the groove and Clark arched his back to meet him. Lex's breathing in Clark's ear became labored. “Yes,” he breathed. “Perfect. Beautiful. Just like that.”

 

Clark continued moving, meeting the sliding thrusts, feeling his own languid arousal stir in him. The leather below him was slippery and his cock was growing hard again. He arched his back up, and Lex slid along his tailbone. Down, and his own cock met the frictionless surface of the ottoman.

 

Lex was grunting in Clark's ear, sound escaping through clenched teeth. He nuzzled into the nape of Clark's neck. Clark moaned as Lex rammed harder.

 

“Like that?” Lex panted.

 

“Y-y- yes,”

 

“Know what I'm going to do, Clark? I'm going to come this way. All over your back. I think you'd like it. I know I will.”

 

“Ye-aagh!” Clark agreed. He was slippery on all sides now and he wanted Lex to stop distracting him, but he didn't want Lex to stop talking; the smooth menace of his tone promising (so far) unnamed things was driving Clark to the cliff edge of coming again.

 

Then Lex cried out “Clark!” hoarsely and sank his teeth into the back of Clark's neck. Clark felt hot fluid spill across the small of his back. His hips thrust quickly across the ottoman and he had another shivery orgasm. It didn't break his mind like the previous one, but no way was he going to complain.

 

Lex collapsed against him and Clark wanted to lie that way indefinitely, not thinking of what the next moment might bring.

 

“Jesus,” Lex mumbled into Clark's neck. “So fucking hot…”

 

Lex pulled off Clark suddenly, leaving him cold along the sticky spots. Clark clambered to his feet, trying to cover his awkwardness.

 

“Lex, wait…” - Clark reached out, grabbed Lex's wrist, pulled him in. He didn't want Lex to separate himself now. Lex wasn't resistant, but he did seem confused. When Clark put his arms around Lex, it took him a moment to return the gesture. Clark rested his cheek against the side of Lex's head. “Thank you.” He whispered. Lex ducked his head and petted Clark's hair briefly. He stepped out of the embrace and met Clark's eyes. The pause lengthened, and Lex finally opened his mouth.

 

“Let's get you cleaned up before you go home,” he finally said, but Clark caught the glimmer of warmth in his eyes, his voice, as he shepherded Clark toward a shower stocked with expensive soap. Clark scrubbed himself efficiently, but his fingers lingered over the bite on his neck, wondering if his hair would cover it, if it would show, then grazed over other sensitized spots, before he pulled himself back to the present. His clothes were folded in a tidy pile on the counter when he reemerged. He paused before plucking the new toothbrush from the top. Leave it to Lex to play the perfect host, as if nothing had ever happened.

 

When he returned to the study, Clark found Lex as pulled together as ever. He glanced at the ottoman, which was gleaming and clean and returned to its proper position in the furniture arrangement. Lex observed Clark looking and smiled faintly.

 

“You should get home,” he said gently. Clark hunched his shoulders in assent.

 

“You know you can come back any time.” Lex continued. A goofy smile pasted itself onto Clark's face. He hadn't dared to hope for a return invitation. “Especially if you've had a bad day. We can find a better outlet for your frustration than sublimation.”

 

Clark shook off the distraction of Lex's mouth and took a second to catch up. “Really?”

 

“Oh, come on, Clark. Which would you rather do? Fuck? Or fuck something up?” Lex's smile was ironic as he ushered Clark out of his study. Clark let himself out of the mansion and drove home, grinning idiotically, already plotting his next visit. Maybe next time, he could get Lex to yell. Maybe next time, they could use the bed. Maybe next time, they could lie together without having to be anything for a little bit longer.

 

Lex had no idea how frustrating Clark's life could be. But he was about to find out.