Author: Jules
Author Email: iwan2kno@ufl.edu
Author Webpage: http://livejournal.com/users/gjstruthseeker
Category: Established Relationship, Humor
Spoilers For: Hug
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Summary: Clark contemplates a different Sexy. Pure silliness. For Livia's Ray Bradbury title challenge.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, all that is sub would be super.
Author's Notes: To Miranda and Jon, because they get my jokes and I love to hear them laugh.
Feedback is better than overpriced caffeine. And for that I shall die a sad death at the mockingly empty hands of Starbucks and Godiva, but it's *true.* iwan2kno@ufl.edu
The Blue Bottle
By Jules
Lex entered the study to find Clark sitting at his desk, gazing at something eye-level with his blotter.
"Clark?"
"Lex!" Clark's eyes widened in surprise as he shot up from the office chair. He blushed hard and ran a hand through his hair. "I was just... uhm..."
"I'm at a total loss here, Clark. You'll have to help me out."
"Would you believe I was contemplating your water bottle?"
"My what?"
"The way light filters through the glass - it tints everything behind it blue. And how the water catches the rays and sparkles when you swish it around."
"When you *what*?"
"Don't tell me you drink it for the taste."
"I happen to like Ty Nant. An acquired preference from years of ritzy English boarding schools."
"Fond memories of late-night clandestine meetings in the boys' shower?"
"Actually, we preferred the broom closet below the grand staircase."
"How pedestrian of you, Lex."
"Says the boy who just used the word 'swish' in conversation."
"I wouldn't call that 'pedestrian' so much as..." Clark wriggled his eyebrows plafully. "Daring."
"Is that what you Smallville kids call 'living on the edge'? Using dated sexually-connotative words your parents were probably raised too conservatively to use themselves?"
"You should be the last one to complain about any liberal bent in my upbringing."
"Oh don't get me wrong," He fixed Clark with a pointed smirk. "Your formative years are no doubt a testament to the aspiring Pride poster boy you've become today."
Clark's eyes gleamed with puckish mirth. "Wamma reminisce about those 'preferences' you gained a few thousand miles beyond your father's influence?"
"I've always preferred to live in the present, which is why I'd rather just have my way with you on the sofa *now.*"
"If you believe that then how come you keep around such a blatant relic of your past?"
"Now you're just twisting my words."
"I'd stop if you came over here and gave me something better to do with my tongue."
"I would've arranged that a while ago, but you seemed awfully fixated on that bottle."
Clark twisted around to pick up the aforementioned object, illustrating his points as he spoke. "It practically belongs in a display case. The mouth is just the right size to allow for proper liquid flow while the blue glass gives it a sort of timeless elegance. Following the smooth curvature from neck to body, you'll appreciate its pleasantly incidental ergonomic shape--"
"Would you like to submit it to the Museum of Modern Art before I head over to the Guiness people with the tapes from this conversation to nominate you for Gayest Man in Kansas?"
"Ooh, you think they'd make a wax sculpture of me?"
"That's Madame Tussaud's, Clark, and besides, you'd want a more permanent fixture if you're going to whore yourself to the masses."
"I like to think of it as public relations." Clark walked around the desk and leaned back against it, propping one leg on the chair before him and struck a pose. "I always thought I had the distinguished features for modeling."
Lex grinned and moved a few steps closer to where Clark had spread himself into the most obscenely inviting tableau he's ever seen. And he's been to Amsterdam. On New Year's. "What you have, Clark, is a distinct need for distraction." He reached out and ran his index finger down the inside of Clark's denim-clad thigh. "What say we let sleeping bottles lie and go upstairs to explore all the subtext going to waste with this continuing feigned interest in British water?"
"Why not downstairs to take one of the cars out?"
"Because I can't drive and molest you at the same time."
"I'll drive."
"Forget it, farmboy. Those cars cost more than even the most exclusive gentlemen's club would pay for your shapely ass to dress down in a leather thong and shake it to 'High School Confidential.'"
"That doesn't sound terribly becoming of a gentleman, Lex."
"You've been hanging around the wrong places." Lex gives Clark a faintly withering look. "Also, either I've been remiss," Clark scoffed at that. "Or your definition of 'gentleman' should've broadened enough by now to know that it's doing one's best to make the most people come all of the time."
Clark returned the lazy grin, pushing himself off of the desk so he was within an inch of Lex. Reaching out a hand, he trailed it down Lex's side to graze the outline of his erection through his slacks. "Maybe we need to work on the breadth of my knowledge. So you'll navigate us to one of these esteemed venues and tell me all about just what kinds of other entertainments are to be had while I take care of the mechanics?"
"The answer--" Lex hissed as Clark's fingers squeezed his cock through the thin material. "is still no."
Clark abruptly withdrew his wandering hand. "Then the molesting will have to wait."
Lex had to bite down on an exasperated sigh, ungainly flopping himself into the nearest chair. "You're telling me you've been sitting up here 'contemplating' the sexiness of my Ty Nant and now you want to go for a ride among the endless cornfields of midwestern America? Is this your way of being coy?"
"We could be having this conversation on our way to the friendly neightborhood Palace of Lascivious Intrigue."
Lex pinched the bridge of his nose. "We could also be fucking our way to another new boxspring right here."
Clark gave Lex his best pout. "You never take me anywhere."
"That's because your father owns a 12-gauge and mine likes to make it a personal goal to seduce my lovers."
"If it's any consolation, you're the only one I've ever wanted to suck off."
Lex couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Thanks, Clark. You're paving that road *real* well about now."
Clark snickered to himself as well. "Aww, is poor Lexy having complications from earlier?"
"Why yes." Lex paused for a moment - licked his lips as if to savor the coming words. "His name is Clark Kent and I think he needs to be taught a lesson."
Lex leapt from the chair, though landing on his knees before Clark would've qualified it more as a calculated fall. Clark scrabbled for the ledge of the desk as Lex deftly zipped and untucked in an impressive display to rival even his own superhuman speed. His breath hitched in his throat as Lex took him inside the hot sheath of his mouth, swallowing Clark's length in a single fluid motion. Clark gulped some more while his hands landed on Lex's scalp and somewhere on the surface behind him. Tongue exerting a gentle pressure along the underside, one hand massaging his balls while the other kneaded his ass and it honestly baffled Clark that people needed other modes of sexual gratification than Lex's smart, agile mouth.
Lex pulled back with a wet sound that went straight to Clark's already shaky knees. When he realized that Lex was just going to kneel there, smirking at him, he groaned and let his legs buckle. Several items came tumbling down with the sweep of his hand, including...
"What was it about this that made you notice it before, Clark?" Lex had caught the bottle and was hefting it between his hands.
"Leeex," Clark whined.
"Seriously, I'm curious to know. Maybe gain a new appreciation for it." Lex held it up and swirled the remaining contents in the afternoon light. "You were right - it does sparkle." Looking back at Clark he uncapped it, Lex wrapped his mouth completely around the rim and took a quaff.
"Can't imagine what offended you about the taste, though. Too rich for your blood?"
Clark suddenly couldn't remember a time he hadn't felt parched, but the bubbly water still didn't entice him. "More like smugly presumptuous."
"I would've thought you'd developed a taste for that by now."
"It's somehow unsatisfying when there are no moaned expletives and needy grabbing involved on the other end."
Clark was on Lex before he had a chance even to fully register his words. He tore at the expensive slacks, belts and buttons be damned.
Lex tried to sound annoyed. "I lose more pants this way. You couldn't maybe extend the same courtesy I grant yours?"
"Keeping you in pants isn't my responsibility, Lex."
"You'd rather I go to board meetings in my underwear?"
"I'd rather you stay naked in bed all day, but I'm not your PR person either."
It was Lex's turn to communicate through broken sound fragments. Clark had decided to give as good as he'd gotten, and Lex had to admit he had not in fact been - "Fuck, Clark," - the least remiss. Clark had proven to be not only a fast study, but - "God, yeah," - an innovative one. Learning just how hard to suck to make him writhe or groan, discovering what tickles and what maddens. Currently, Clark had opted for the method he'd personally perfected, which had Lex coming within three minutes and feeling too old for it.
"I--" Lex gaped, his vision still mottled with tiny starbursts. "I've figured it out. It's--" Swallows. "It's compensation. Your--" Clark had taken to sucking biting kisses along Lex's collarbone. "Your mother, bless her considerate heart, obviously didn't breastfeed you enough."
"Lex, you're on pretty precarious ground to be making Freudian allusions. If anyone here's destined to go down as a landmark case study, it won't be because of my bedroom preferences."
"Don't even go there, Clark."
"One good phallic symbol deserves a proper psychological lay-analysis."
"Remind me to take a more active role in keeping your 'contemplations' to a bare minimum. Along the lines of 'Hm, I wonder if Lex wants to top or bottom tonight' and 'I should campaign for a rug in that hard, drafty loft of mine.'"
"In lieu of wasting my life away with, say, higher education?"
"You've got a good eye for form." Lex ignored the amused sideways glance. "You can be the tragically obsessed artist and I'll be your wealthy patron. We can fuck on sheets of tarp and you'll make millions selling our illicit body art."
"This is all very enticing, but where would that leave time for global conquest?"
"Frankly my dear, the rest of the world can go fuck itself."
Clark smiled. "I'll drink to that."
### The End ###