Title: Meat (Nourishment 3.7)
Author: Janet F. Caires-Lesgold
Feedback to: jfc@freeshell.org
Archive: Mailing list archives only--others please ask permission!
Category: Story, romance, angst, Lex POV
Spoilers: Another scene missing from late in "Asylum"
Rating: strong R for sexual behavior
Pairing: Clark/Lex established relationship
Summary: Lex watches

DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me. Smallville is the property of Alfred Gough, Miles Millar, Tollin-Robbins Productions, and Warner Bros. Television, and based upon characters originally created by Jerome Siegel and Joe Shuster. This story is just for the entertainment of my online friends and myself, not for any profit.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: The rest of "The Nourishment Series" can be found elsewhere on this archive - Enjoy!

DEDICATION: For Tiff, who I hope is always entertained

COPYRIGHT: (C) Janet F. Caires-Lesgold, May 1, 2004, jfc@freeshell.org

Please don't redistribute or alter this story in any way without the express permission of the author. Thank you very much.



Clark is my very best friend.

It is wonderful to see his face again after my stay in the hospital to recover from my little episode. I am told that he came to visit me, which I don't recall. There are some gaps in my history now, but I was told to expect that kind of thing. The procedure may have been a little extreme, I suppose. However, where I once was confused and manufacturing my own reality, like while I was on the island, now I am back together and slowly finding myself.

Having Clark in my house again almost feels like reconnecting to another part of me. They must have told him something scary about my illness or my treatment, so it doesn't surprise me to notice him handling me like a spun glass figurine. I have no way of telling him that he of all people can't break me--after all, more evil men have tried and failed.

All I can do to reassure my lover is to reach out and hold him, no matter how much fear is in his eyes. I am sure there is something that he wants for which he is hesitant to ask me, so once I have luxuriated in his arms long enough, I pull back and kiss him gently. He trembles under my hands like the virgin he once was.

"Don't be afraid, Clark," I chide him. "You know I still love you."

"God--I love you, too, Lex!" he blurts, like he'd been worried that I had forgotten how I feel about him. Gorilla arms squeeze me in another hug, and I am reminded of where my home really is.

We stand wrapped up in each other for several minutes, alternately holding and kissing, our hands getting reacquainted with our favorite terrains.

Eventually, he sighs, "I want to go upstairs. Can we?"

"Of course," I agree, letting him clasp my fingers in his and getting dragged along as we climb the steps. Just then I notice my new houseboy glancing our way, probably at the noise of farm boots on the marble, so I nod my approval of this turn of events to send him back to his post.

We reach my bedroom and shut ourselves inside, whereupon Clark's hands clutch me close. Between bouts of covering my face and head with kisses, he murmurs, "Needed you. Missed you. Want you."

Before things get out of hand, I grip him by the shoulders and hold him back carefully. "Wait, Clark."

"For what?" he asks, his eyes dark with lust yet puzzled at my caution.

Not letting go, I inform him quietly, "I can't."

"Can't what?" he parrots, visibly holding himself back from ripping off my clothes and taking me right on the carpeting.

"They've still got me on some pretty strong tranquilizers. I won't get an erection."

He looks poleaxed. "What?"

I take his cheek in my hand and pet him with a thumb, unable to stop touching him. "It's no reflection on you, beautiful. I can't get it up right now."

A strong farmboy hand lunges without hesitation for my crotch, dropping away disappointedly when it finds an unresponsive organ under my zipper. Grabbing my hand again, he starts pulling me toward the bed. "Wait," he insists, a touch of panic in his eyes. "I'll stay over and take care of you all night long. My folks won't care how late I'm out. Let me try. I bet I can get you hard and make you come by morning..."

Digging in my heels, I halt our progress across the room. "Don't--okay, Clark? It won't work. I've tried. Look, it doesn't matter. I'll get them to change my prescription soon, and I'll be back to normal. For now, I'm just glad you're here."

My hand is practically flung down before my lover stalks over to the window and away from me. "It's not fair, Lex. I came over to make love with you, and I don't know what I'm going to do if I can't make you feel good!" He pouts like he's six years old.

Where my first impulse would be to follow him and draw him back to bed slowly, instead I proceed to the four-poster and begin turning down the spread.

"Lex..." he starts to protest, but I ignore him, propping up the pillows before I start peeling off my sweater. His mouth hangs open in dismay. "I'm not going to fuck you if it won't do anything for you!"

My pants land on my discarded shoes before I climb into bed, tucking the covers up around my waist. "Then don't," I suggest, mildly, letting him turn on the spit a little longer.

Sputtering a little in confusion, he takes the bait and is lured to the counterpane, almost against his wishes. "So what do you want me to do instead?" he asks, irritation giving way to intrigue.

"Oh, I don't know," I begin innocently, hiding the tease at first. "Yourself, maybe?"

At last he notices my coy grin, and shyly returns it. "What? You wanna watch?" It's been a long time, but there is his adorable blush.

"Sure," I shrug, my cheek dimpling in spite of me. "There's no reason we both have to be sidelined."

"Are you sure? Is this what you want?" he asks innocently, though he tosses his jacket aside without a second thought.

"I'd like nothing better," I assure him, settling back against the pillows. "Give me a good show, baby."

In the midst of unbuttoning his homespun plaid, he hears my demand and rethinks his strategy. Before he reaches for the next button, he stops and regards me provocatively from under his eyelashes. His voice lowers into a sultry purr as he asks, "So, Lex... You wanna see me?"

"Yeah," I drawl in reply. "Whaddya got?"

"Wait and see," he coos, releasing the rest of his buttons teasingly, revealing his plain white t-shirt underneath in stripper-like flashes. Just then he is overcome with self-consciousness and dissolves into nervous giggles. "This is stupid," he grumbles in his normal voice with his shoulders curling in embarrassment. "I can't do this."

"Of course you can," I encourage him. "You're doing fine."

"Why am I doing this again?" he mutters resignedly as he reaches for the open plackets of his shirt.

At that, I crawl to the corner of the bed where he sits with one foot tucked under his butt. "You're doing this because I want you to," I insist softly, pulling his head to mine for a slow, sensuous kiss. Releasing him reluctantly, I murmur, "Okay?"

"Okay," he accedes, running his tongue over his lips to savor the taste of my mouth on his. Discarding his overshirt, he lets his fingertips trace the muscles through the ordinary white cotton tricot underneath. I ease back across the bed to get comfortable again, noting the shadows cast on his stomach by his firm nipples. "Do you like this?" he asks with honest curiosity.

"You're beautiful, Clark," I remind him quietly. "I love looking at you when we have sex. Now I get the chance to enjoy watching you without being distracted by anything."

I am rewarded with a broad, open smile, whereupon he reaches to unfasten his boots and knock them onto the floor. He swings his feet up onto the bedspread, spreading his legs wide, planting his heels for leverage, and waggling his toes in their sweet white socks. The vee of his thighs and the fly of his jeans outline the shape of his hardness under the fabric. One giant paw cups his erection through his pants as his other hand continues to stroke his rippled stomach, then pops the button at his waistband with a practiced thumb.

"Lose the shirt," I growl lovingly.

At my request, he pulls the tail out of his jeans, then crosses his massive arms over his face and yanks the thin shirt off of his shoulders and up past his head. Shaking his hair into a lovely tousle, he twirls the garment once or twice, then flings it onto the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

My attention is grabbed by the sheer splendor of my lover's broad chest. He always hides his physique under nondescript clothes, only sharing this marvelous spectacle with me. I close my mouth before I embarrass myself by drooling into my lap.

His gaze is no longer that of a mere boy, but full of depth and strength like the man he has become. As tempting as it may be to reach out and touch his burgeoning pectorals, that stare holds me in place as if he were stiff-arming me.

Needing to connect with him in any way I can, I speak again. "What else have you brought me?" I taunt with a wicked grin.

The sparkle of his teeth is second only to the aroused glint in his eyes. "You're gonna like this." I am at once grateful for the size of my bed, for though his long legs pull him halfway to me as he repositions himself on his knees, he is still at a good viewing distance. As I hold my breath in anticipation, he eases down his zipper, then lowers his jeans gradually.

Dampened sexual stimulation tickles the bottom of my gut like the beat of a poorly-remembered song. Instead, I gawk at the sight that is Clark's cock. No underwear spoils the display, and once his pants are shoved past his knees and pulled completely off along with his socks, he settles back on his heels to show himself off to the best advantage.

For no good reason, I find myself breathing harder as he runs his hands up his thighs and reaches for his penis. He may be making pretty faces at me, but all of my attention is focused on this wonder of the western world. It bobs up as if looking for his navel, thick and proud and almost angry. I swallow a mouthful of saliva at the thought that this massive organ has violated my body, for at this angle, it doesn't look physically possible.

With his other hand gentling his balls, he encircles his length with finger and thumb, rolling his foreskin back to expose the perfectly-sculpted head, already wearing a bead of pre-ejaculate at its tip.

"Is that for me?" I ask, my voice suddenly rough and breathless.

"It's yours," he answers huskily. "Always has been. Always will be." After a deep breath that involves his entire body, he begins jacking himself slowly.

While his hand partially obscures the main event, I afford myself the opportunity to appreciate the whole picture: Chest expanded on an impressive inhale. Eyes slipping shut, at first relaxed but soon tightly closed as the sensations overwhelm him. Lips being worried by his teeth until they drop open to allow gasps and moans to emerge almost unbidden. Throat stretched deliciously as his head tips back in ecstasy. Belly so taut it vibrates with the tension of his building orgasm.

As his stroke speeds up, his vocalizations become more distinct, more wordlike. He exhorts the Supreme Being for something, though I can think of no being any better than Clark himself. His face begins registering something closer to pain than pleasure, and he nearly snarls in his rigors.

His hand almost blurs on his cock, and his head is thrown back sharply. "Oh, God, Lex!" he shouts, white fluid spurting up from his fist and spattering onto his stomach in sharp spasms.

Immediately, he crumples in on himself, all tension gone from his body. I can hold myself back no longer and scurry to his side, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close, nuzzling the side of his head as he pants exhaustedly. "You okay, baby?" I ask him, concerned to note his shaking shoulders.

"Uh-huh," he grunts, nodding weakly, then swallows quickly and lunges in for a gentle kiss. "Did you like that?" he adds, eager to please once again.

"Spectacular, Clark. It was almost like doing it myself. Did it feel as wonderful as it looked?"

He doesn't answer, but his rosy smile tells me everything I need to know. "I love you, Lex. I hope you can join me next time."

Disregarding the disappointment mixed into the look of satiation in his eyes, I kiss him warmly and reply, "I hope so, too. I love you very much, Clark. Thank you."

Clark is my best friend in the world. He's my lover and my favorite thing on this broken, ruined earth. There was something else, too, but I just can't put my finger on it right now...



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