"You can do that, certainly. But what I need to know is how long it will take you to reach definitive results."
Lex shifted the phone from his right hand to the left, only listening to the voice on the other end of the line with half his mind. The other half was watching Clark.
Not that Clark noticed him watching, of course. He hadn't sunk quite that low yet, and peripheral vision was more than adequate to see what he wanted to. So far, Clark had always respected that work came first, staying at a respectable distance until Lex wrapped up whatever he was doing. He seriously doubted that he would be able to keep his professional life under any sort of control if that ever changed, and he suspected that gazing lustfully into the boy's eyes while taking important business calls from Metropolis would be a sure way to prove that theory correct.
He did enjoy the distraction, though. Looked forward to it through his days at the plant while Clark was at school. Longed for it through the rare afternoons and evenings when Clark didn't come because there was still homework and family and chores at the farm to share him with. Cherished it at times like this, when Clark did come.
When Clark was right there, on the couch in his study, waiting.
"Yes, I'm looking at the figures now. I'm sure you did a thorough job with the estimates, but don't you think two million is a bit steep?"
He picked the spreadsheet off the polished surface of his desk and leaned back in his chair, flicking to the relevant page. Clark's presence was warm and still, slouched against the leather with that clumsy grace he couldn't help displaying. Perfect like a $1000 rent boy, without knowing there was anything to sell. Innocent, despite the things they'd done together. The things he had come here to do today.
It seemed innocence was a state of mind, not body, and it could coexist quite easily with desire. He wouldn't have suspected that three months ago, but it gave things an edge that thrilled him. Like even when they were dirty, they were pure as snow.
Which probably explained why Clark had no problem with dirty.
"So this new lab equipment... How much will it speed up the process? If it doesn't allow you to present a marketable product at least a year earlier than the old predictions, the investment won't pay off."
The boy hadn't known anything when they'd started out, but he was a quick study. Almost freakishly quick, about some things.
Lex had gone slowly to begin with, and he was thankful that he still had it in him to be gentle, because God knew Clark had needed it. He had never seen anything more nervous in his life. Physically, though... It all came to him so easily. Even the things that should have hurt, no matter how careful Lex was, had been absorbed, accepted, turned into instant ecstasy. There seemed to be nothing his body couldn't handle at the first try.
Which made Lex appreciate his own experience in a way he never had before. Three months of this eager kid, taking everything he gave, panting for more at every turn, and he still had tricks left to teach. True, Clark had nothing to compare him with, but he found an almost obscene pleasure in dazzling him, showing him the little extra twists that floored him completely, rinsed his brain until the only knowledge remaining was how Lex, and Lex alone, made him feel. Not very original, perhaps, but there was an undeniable pleasure in having what no one else had touched before.
"Yes, of course the stock would shoot through the roof if we leaked what you're working on. But if anything should go wrong after that, it would drop like a stone. LexCorp has the money to see the project through without that kind of speculation."
Clark pulled his long limbs together and stood up, strolled the few steps over to the bookcase, ran his fingertips along a row of first editions. Touching things. A sure sign that he was getting impatient.
Who wouldn't be, with a bulge like that in their pants?
Since the first night, just being in the same room with Lex invariably sufficed to make Clark hard as rock. Amazing, of course, but he supposed it wasn't that strange a reaction for a teenager to his first lover. He'd been drunk for his own first time, high on ecstasy, pot or acid for most of the other times during a row of years after that, and it had hardly ever been with the same person more than once, anyway. He didn't have any personal experiences that could tell him whether this was normal. The fact remained indisputable, though - right now, to Clark he was sex. Sure, there were other things he wanted to be for the kid, but he was working on those, had made steady headway since the day they met, and this...this was his, here and now, and he intended to get maximum enjoyment out of it.
Those conditioned responses intrigued him. How a touch, a glance, a word, even a setting was enough to throw Clark over the edge into barely restrained lust. How easy it was to arouse him with the merest hint of something they'd done before. How simply stepping over the threshold to this study made him tense with desire. It was all an unexpected, dizzying benefit of falling in love with a teenager.
"I have full confidence in you and your staff, Doctor. I handpicked each of you myself, if you remember. But I still want to take a closer look at your results before I invest any more money."
Clark was wandering the outskirts of the room now, brief red of glass-tinted sunlight playing on his cheek as he passed the window. Restless need was rolling off him in waves, and Lex felt a sudden urge to just hang up the phone. It had been three days this time, after all, and taking care of Clark's needs had become one of his top priorities over the last few months. It appeared to be part of his protective feelings towards the boy that he could never stand to keep him waiting longer than necessary.
"Yeah. It will have to be next week, before the board meeting." He pulled out his filofax and ran his finger over the appointments in his calendar. Clark had reached the pool table, sliding his hand along the smooth wooden edge as he circled it. "How about Tuesday?"
There was a breath of skin over felt, followed by the click of wood on wood, and this time he did watch openly, because Clark had his back turned, and this was such a lovely view. Clark leaning over the pool table, one hand splayed on its purple surface, the other absently playing with the balls, letting them collide with each other, catching them when they rolled back. Large hand, almost big enough to palm the ball, yet oddly elegant. His farmboy, made for the great outdoors, not the polished interiors of the rich and famous, but looking so perfectly in place, the contrast only enhancing his beauty. Long legs in faded jeans and no flannel shirt today, just a white T-shirt in the summer heat. Curve of broad shoulders wrapped in cotton, muscular back flowing into narrow hips. Tanned arms with massive biceps that didn't really belong on a sixteen-year-old, but spoke of what Clark could do, the strength that was always there when you needed it.
Some corner of his mind suggested that feelings of ownership really weren't appropriate here, but he was a Luthor, raised to take pride in his possessions, and this... was all his. An exquisite thought.
"Tuesday it is. If I'm satisfied with your results, you'll have the new equipment straight away. No, thank you. I have great hopes for this research, as you well know. Good, then we're all on the same page. Goodbye, Doctor."
He could feel Clark turn the moment he put the phone down, but he didn't meet his gaze. He collected the files on the project from his desktop, slipped them into their folder, placed them in the bottom drawer and locked it, pocketing the key. He took his time closing down the open documents on his computer, then ran his eyes over the desk one last time, making sure everything was in order. As her rose from his chair, he opened the top left-hand drawer and fished out the small tube he always kept there nowadays, sliding it into his pocket. On afternoons like this, it wasn't often they made it to the bedroom.
He didn't speak as he crossed the room to the double doors, and neither did Clark, but when he locked them he could feel the boy smile behind him, warmth flooding the room. When he finally turned to him, there was an answering grin on his own lips.
Three days really was too long.
Body heat slowly enveloping him as he moved closer, and then Clark was right there, arms around his waist, leaning back against the pool table so that the green eyes were level with his, want and adoration and pure fucking love staring into him. Lex raised a hand and traced Clark's face. Sharp cheekbone, delicious lips, slightest spray of stubble on the skin.
"Sorry I had to keep you waiting," he said.
"That's okay. I know you're busy." And it was okay, no resentment at all. Incredible kid.
He leaned closer still, hand snaking into all that mass of black hair, pulling Clark to him.
"I'll make it worth the wait," he said, his words a breath on Clark's mouth, parting it for his own.
Warm, slick tongue against his and endless kisses that tasted of Kansas air and home-baked bread. Hands on his hips, his back, the curve of his head, bare fingers on naked scalp, and he slipped his leg between Clark's, making him shudder at the pressure to his cock. He made his lips let go so he could pull back and watch Clark's face as he ground into him, his own growing erection stiff against a jeansclad thigh. Slow, steady rhythm, and those huge hands were on his arms now, tight grip bordering on painful.
"God, Lex," Clark whispered, and if there was anything more beautiful in the world than this, he had no clue what it was. Hungry, hungry boy, and he could spend the rest of his life satisfying that hunger, never missing anything else.
Clark's head fell on his shoulder, teeth scraping the veins on his neck, biting at the edge of his jaw, and he let him. Cradled his head there while the tension built and surged, held him close and let him take what he wanted. Until nothing of this was enough and he pulled Clark's lips to his again, kissed him deeply before leaning in to whisper in his ear.
"I want to fuck you."
Hips jerking into him so hard he was nearly lifted off the floor, and Clark moaned deep, head thrown back and no words, far beyond any articulate yes. So easy to get the responses he wanted.
He ran his fingers over Clark's face again, calming him down, then stepped back and turned him around so that he faced the table. The loss of contact was on the verge of unbearable, but God, he needed more than to just scrape the surface.
He slipped his hands along the waistband of Clark's jeans, found the button-fly and opened them up. When they were pooled around his ankles, the boy stepped out of them, spread his legs and leaned forward across the table, elbows on the felt. So eager for this that Lex could see him tremble.
His fingers seemed to find Clark's ass without being told to, stroking it, cupping it, sliding into the cleft. At the first touch to his opening, Clark pushed back so hard he had to yank his hand away not to hurt him. Not that he was sure he could hurt him, even if he tried, but he preferred to go with the assumption that it was possible. For several reasons.
"Shhhhhh," Lex said, "take it easy. I know what you need. We just have to get you ready for it first, okay?"
Clark nodded, but words still seemed to be beyond his grasp. That was alright, though. It wasn't exactly hard to read the body language.
Lex pulled the tube from his pocket and coated his fingers with lube. This time when he caressed his opening Clark managed to hold still, and entrance was easy. Hot and tight and fucking marvellous, muscles contracting around him, that whole magnificent body pushing back for more. And then there were words after all, just two of them, but two that definitely made his top ten.
"Please, Lex..."
And he didn't like tormenting the boy, never had, probably never would. He slid his fingers out as gently as he could, unfastened his slacks and spread lube over his cock. Hard as a goddamn diamond now, and pushing into Clark was like a dream of heat, fire and friction all about him, consuming him, and he slammed in deep, falling into perfection. Clark gathered him up, held him steady like he always did, and then everything was rhythm and motion and pure, inescapable pleasure. Slow and hard, every stroke hitting that spot that sent bursts of flame through them both, until Lex knew he couldn't handle it much longer. His hand found Clark's cock, long and slender, straining against his belly, and he wrapped around it, pumping in counterpoint to his thrusts.
The climax was like the roar of a pyre in his head, the two of them coming almost together, their bodies so closely linked he honestly couldn't tell where his cock ended and Clark's ass began, every sensation spilling over into the other. It drifted through his mind that this might be what happiness felt like.
Afterwards they somehow ended up on the couch, half-dressed and pleasantly entangled. Clark was grinning like an idiot, practically purring like a cat.
"You really get off on that, huh?" Lex asked. "From behind, over the pool table."
The hint of a blush, but the grin didn't fade.
"It was always my favourite fantasy. Before I even knew you wanted me. Still is."
"You should tell me things like that. Let me know what you want."
"Oh, but I already get what I want. That's easy." Impossibly, the grin grew even wider. "You're easy."
"Now I'm not sure I follow."
"Well, all I have to do is stalk around the pool table a few times while you're working, and once you're done, you have me bent over it in ten seconds flat. Never fails."
He knew there was a serious blow to his dignity embedded in that statement, but to his surprise all it did was make him laugh.
"You, Clark, are becoming far too devious for your own good."
"Yeah, maybe. But hanging out with the master for so long, wouldn't it be strange if some of it didn't rub off?"
"True enough," Lex said. He reached out and pulled Clark to him, let their tongues entwine in a slow, tender kiss. As always when they lay like this, his heart melted into what felt ridiculously like little drops of sunlight.
Conditioning, it would seem, was a two-way street.
