Title: MINT ON MY PILLOW (Nourishment 2.13)
Author: Janet F. Caires-Lesgold
Feedback to: jfc@freeshell.org
Archive: Mailing list archives only--others please ask permission!
Category: Romance, story, Lex POV
Spoilers: Missing scenes from "Prodigal"
Rating: NC-17 for m/m sexual interaction
Pairing: Clark/Lex established relationship
Summary: Lex sleeps over

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 and the houseguests.

COPYRIGHT: (C) April 15, 2003, Janet F. Caires-Lesgold, 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 snores.

Funny, I'd never noticed that before. Must be because when we've slept together, it's been in beds that were familiar to me, and I slept very soundly in them, especially with him beside me. That was another point that occurred to me over the past three days: sleeping with Clark usually allowed me to sleep better than I would alone.

But the last couple of nights, I didn't have that luxury, and did a little more staring at the ceiling than I ordinarily do in my lover's company. To be honest, though, I didn't really mind losing sleep. It let me appreciate where I was just that much longer.

The Kents had invited me over for dinner once since I'd moved to Smallville, and because of my relationship with their son, had allowed me to spend the night on their couch. Clark and I were quite aware of the house rules even then, and didn't even ask to be put on the same floor.

So it was even a bigger surprise than having my father throw me out of my own house to hear them offer me Clark's room, with Clark still in it, when I found myself suddenly homeless. Oh, I could see the glances my way as I stood in the kitchen with my hastily-packed bag while they made serious whispered negotiations in the living room. It turned out that Martha had been suffering from a bout of insomnia and often found the couch more comfortable than her own bed, so my presence there would be problematic. As a temporary measure, a camp cot was crammed in next to Clark's single bed, with the unspoken assumption that he and I could keep our hands off of each other even at that proximity for a couple of nights.

Martha gave Clark her usual motherly hug as she bade us goodnight, but surprised me with a squeeze of my own before heading across the hall to join her husband. Clark had the most adorable grin as he tugged off his sweater and jeans to throw on pajamas.

"What?" I finally asked him.

He chuckled endearingly. "Aw, I just think it's sweet. She likes you."

"Why?" I asked, digging in my hanging bag for nightclothes. "Don't you?"

"Nope," he replied blithely. "I love you." His tease made him wrinkle up his nose and push the limits of cuteness.

Even I couldn't help smiling at him. "Good," I answered at last. "Just stay on your cot tonight, and your parents won't have to hear just how much."

"Okay," he agreed easily, arranging the pillow he'd pilfered from his bed and some fresh blankets on the canvas.

I'd managed to forget my slippers at the mansion, so I left my socks on to keep my feet warm on the wooden floor. "Look, it's really great of you to give me your bed, beautiful. Are you sure I can't take the cot?"

He flung a pillow at me, making me duck, though I caught it to stick it on the bed. "I sleep like a rock on this thing on every fishing trip, so I don't mind, really. You ought to have a mattress under you, at least."

"Are you calling me an overprivileged rich guy?" I joked, getting right up in his face.

"Yes," he retorted, and as soon as I pretended to reach back to slug him, he pinned my arms behind me and brought his face close enough to kiss. "You're my overprivileged rich guy," he said through a huge smile before he brought our mouths together, where they remained for more than a few heartbeats.

Reluctantly, I broke from his lips with a breathy sigh. "We'd better stop that right now, or we're gonna get in trouble with your folks."

He didn't speak at first, instead staring at my lips like he was remembering their texture to tide him over until morning. "Yeah," he finally exhaled with almost no voice behind it, raising his eyes to mine wistfully and letting go of my arms.

Silently, we finished getting ready for bed, then turned out the light and stretched out on our respective pallets, heads placed at opposite ends for easier conversation and to reduce temptation. The moon coming in the window gave enough light for me to see his silhouette against his pillow. "You sleepy?" I whispered.

"No. You?"

"Hell, no."

"So--Lucas, huh?"

His lack of a question held at least a half-dozen questions inside. All I answered, though, was, "Yeah. Little bastard."

"Literally." Clark snickered softly, and I couldn't help joining him. "You don't wanna talk about him, do you?"

"That obvious, huh?"

"Even in the dark." He shifted the pillow to prop himself up a little higher. "Wasn't Helen home tonight?"

That bombshell I didn't see coming from the shadows. Trying not to let the mask slip, I explained, "I don't think we're ready for me to crash there indefinitely."

"Indefinitely?" His eyes glinted with interest in the low light.

"Okay--maybe even a couple days. Look--Helen's kind of an unknown quantity to some extent. Who knows? This might all work out."

"You think you would want to marry her someday?"

Somehow it felt okay to tell him the truth, tucked safely into his bed in his room in his house. "I don't know. Some days I think about it. Maybe I need some sort of signal, some kind of sign to tell me what to do about her. But she's good for me. It could be the right thing to do."

"Oh," he replied sadly, shifting back down as if to sleep.

This made me lean up to catch his attention. "Don't you ever forget that I'm with her so I don't lose you. If I didn't make an effort with her, I don't think my father would give a second thought to hauling my ass off to prison for sodomy."

"And if that isn't irony, I don't know what is." I couldn't quite see his face from that angle, but from his tone of voice, I could tell he was only partly joking.

At that, I sat up with my elbows on my knees. "Listen: I love you, Clark. You will always be more important to me than Helen, or anybody else. Do you understand that?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he answered begrudgingly, sounding exactly like the little boy whose model spaceships still lined the shelf over the computer desk.

Suddenly I had a word for Clark's displeasure about Helen. "You're jealous."

"Maybe." Once again he rolled to face me. "Or maybe I'm just selfish. I hate the idea of having to share you with anybody else."

"I know it's hard on you. I wish things were different, too, but if I'm gonna have you at all, this is the way it has to be now." In this room so full of potential and possibilities, a germ of an idea came to me. "Maybe I'll become President someday and change that law so I can marry you instead. Would you like that?"

The thought caused him to sit up beside me. "You'd do that for me?" he asked, wonder shining in his moonlit eyes.

"Anything, baby," I assured him, confident as I could be in the middle of the night in my pajamas while I was locked out of my own house and taking shelter under a distrustful neighbor's roof.

Clark's eyebrows knit together beseechingly. "Hold me a second?"

Scooting over to the edge of the mattress, I wrapped him quickly in my arms and squeezed him tight, enjoying the rare height advantage his bed gave me. He nestled under my chin and almost purred in contentment.

We both sensed when we needed to stop, so pulled away and shared a last kiss before settling back down to sleep. I lay as still as I could, but remained resolutely awake for several minutes.

The rustle of blankets and exasperated sighs beside me indicated that my lover was having trouble dropping off as well. "What's wrong, Clark?" I asked under my breath, in case I'd misread his state.

"Can't sleep," he fumed quietly.

"Do you need your bed back?" I offered.

"No... Damn rules..."

His frustration became clear to me at once. He'd gotten aroused while I'd held him, and it wasn't going away while I was in the room with him. "If you need to touch yourself, it's okay with me. I don't mind."


"Your parents don't have rules against masturbation, do they?"

"No..." he groaned tiredly.

"Then go right ahead."

"I wouldn't want to do that in front of you. It would be weird."

"Who better? Don't worry: I won't touch you. In fact, I might just join you."

"Really?" The weird light leeched the color from his wide eyes, making his sable head remind me of nothing so much as a mint-filled chocolate. When he spoke again, his voice had dropped into his lower registers and gotten husky with desire. "That would be really hot."

I couldn't help smiling to myself. "Why do you think that I don't mind you doing it?"

"Oh..." he answered, realization dawning slowly. "You want me to turn on the light?"

"No, that's okay. I don't need to see you. I just want to hear your voice. Talk to me."

He shifted under the covers, probably getting into position. "What should I say?"

"Well, what do you think about when you want to make yourself come?"

His eyes closed and he shuddered visibly. In that soft, sultry voice, he began. "I think about you, well, specifically when you and I are together."

"What are we doing?" I asked, my own hand sliding inside my pajamas to find my penis already starting to get hard.

"You're smiling. I love your smile. I really feel like you love me when you smile at me."

"I do love you, Clark. You've got a lovely smile, too."

"Thank you, but that's not what I meant."

"Oh?" I reached down to clutch my balls a little, then grasped myself gently.

"You have this kinda secret smile that you don't give to anybody but me. It always makes me feel special."

A warm flush rose over my cheeks. "You are special. What do I do next?"

"You kiss me for a really long time. Sometimes I wonder if you need to breathe, but you don't stop. You make really cool little noises, too."

Before I could ask what he meant, he gave the tiniest moan, ending with a sharp gasp. The sound shot straight through me and made my erection twitch in my hand. "And then?" I asked hoarsely.

"Then you take my clothes off, really slowly. I want you to hurry up, because I'm afraid if you touch my dick, I'll come in my pants. I get so hard when you touch me..."

"In your fantasy?"

"Anytime. Tonight, even. Your hands are so different from mine. I feel big and clumsy next to you, but then you hold me or touch me, and it's like I'm a guitar or something you can play perfectly every time."

"I think you're perfect, Clark. You're big, but you're strong and beautiful. It feels so good when you fuck me." I was pulling steadily at my cock now and tickling my anus with the fingers of my other hand.

"Oh, God, Lex..." he moaned, careful not to make too much noise. "Wanna fuck you right now! Need to come... Want you to touch me, suck me, fuck me..."

His harsh breathing cut off his words for a moment, and I pumped myself hard when I heard it. "God, baby--you are so beautiful when you come! I need your cock inside me. Are you gonna come for me?"

"Yesss, Lex--yesssss... oh, God..." His hand stilled under the covers, and he sobbed quietly in release.

The sounds he made swirled in my belly, and with one more hard stroke, I came as well, swearing just under my breath. My pulse throbbed behind my knees and in my throat, pounding hard on its way to returning to normal. "Are you okay, baby?" I asked in a whisper.

"Uh-huh," he murmured, still not quite back from wherever he'd gone. "Can I have a tissue? There's a box on the nightstand."

Grabbing several for myself, I handed over the box to his outstretched hand. "Needed that, huh?" I asked, not sure if I was referring to him or myself.

"Guess so," he groaned, wiping up his mess and tossing wadded tissues toward his wastebasket like tiny basketballs. "Thank you, Lex. I feel better now."

"You're welcome, Clark. I enjoyed that, too. Think you'll be able to sleep?"

"Yeah," he replied, yawning widely as he settled back onto his pillow. "Good night, Lex. I love you."

"I love you," I repeated. "Good night. Sweet dreams," I added, but he was already asleep. Smiling fondly, I discarded my tissues, then fluffed my pillow and rolled over to try to get comfortable.

My roommate was snoring every time I rolled over and woke myself up. I even reached over and kicked him softly once to quiet him down, but after he shifted without awakening, he started right in again. Eventually, I stopped looking at the clock and just slept as much as I could. As soon as I heard the rest of the family stirring in the hall in the morning, I went ahead and got out of bed, figuring I could be a good guest and pitch in with some chores.

It had been some time since I'd done any serious physical activity other than fencing or punching a bag, so I was a bit wrung out even before I went to face Lucas in the light of day. The power game we found ourselves playing would have been stressful even on a good night's sleep, but I played my hand the best I could anyway. All these challenges combined to leave me feeling fairly rough by the time evening rolled around again, and before I tucked myself back into Clark's little bed for the night, I drew myself a hot bath.

No sooner had I leaned my head back on the washcloth-cushioned rim of the tub than someone knocked on the bathroom door. "I'm taking a bath. Who's there?"

"It's me," answered Clark. "Can I come in? I've really gotta pee."

"Sure," I replied, "come on in. The door's unlocked." He did so and made use of the facilities. I could tell from the set of his shoulders and his slightly grimy appearance that he'd had a hard day, too. "Tough night at the Talon?"

"You could say that," he responded. When he was finished, he flushed and closed the lid. "You mind?" he asked simply, gesturing to the new perch.

"Go ahead. So, how do you like working for Lana?" I asked as he sat back and exhaled tiredly.

"It would be better if Lucas hadn't come in and tried to throw his weight around," he said, looking like he'd come from quite a battle.

"I take it you put him in his place?"

"I didn't have to. Somebody took a shot at him when he left the shop. They missed, but it was very suspicious."

Fixing my eyes on his, I thought I'd better check if I needed to provide an alibi. "It wasn't me."

This made him laugh darkly. "I know--seems like he's made a few enemies in his travels."

"Doesn't surprise me in the least--case in point," I added, indicating myself. Taking a hard look at him, I tried to figure out his state of being. "You okay? You need the next bath?"

Chuckling, a lot more happily, he shook his head in the negative. "No--I'm fine for now."

With a sly grin, I revised my offer. "You wanna share this one?"

There was that wistful gaze again. "Naaah--I don't think that would be a good idea. I could work on your shoulders when you get out--would that help?"

I grabbed my washcloth and scrubbed my face and head before the water cooled off too much. "I think I could handle that. You have the magic touch, you know that?"

"I would hope that's true about more things than just your shoulders," he replied with an evil twinkle in his eye.

Having soaked sufficiently for the time being, I pulled out the plug and got out of the bathtub, carefully disregarding Clark's eyes, no matter where they landed, as I toweled off.

"Better?" he inquired, handing me my robe, which I'd hung on the back of the door.

"Yeah, I think I am. I'll meet you back in the bedroom in a minute, okay?" I offered, wanting a few moments to myself to stop thinking quite so loudly. Clark didn't wink as he let himself out of the room, but he might as well have. I used the toilet myself, stepped into my slippers and fresh underwear, and then headed out to get ready for bed. When I finally stepped into our little room, there was a Clark-shaped obstacle effectively blocking the door. "Clark," I asked, trying to see around him, "is there a problem?"

"Oh, my God..." he exclaimed softly.

"For God's sake, what is it?"

Startled, he glanced over his shoulder at me, then stepped aside to let me into the room. He swallowed hard and pointed at a small blue box on his nightstand. "Do you know what that is?"

I walked over and picked it up. It was an ordinary package of eighteen lubricated condoms. "Evidence that you went to the drugstore today?" He answered with a silent shake of his head. "Then what?"

Carefully, he shut the door, then came and took the box out of my hand. "It's permission. I didn't buy these. I think they're from my mom..." he explained, sounding astonished.

Before I could ask any more stupid questions, the importance of what he was saying sank into my fatigued brain. "She got those in case we want to have sex."

"Yeah," he agreed, looking at the label with moist eyes, "in case we want to have sex here. Obviously, we can't go to your house, so I guess she wanted to make sure we had someplace to be together. She's saying it's okay, that she's changed the house rules."

It was my turn to say, "Oh, my God..." and we both sat down on the nearest bed surface in shock. As we were not quite able to look at one another for a few moments, I finally reached out and took his hand gently. "Do you want to?"

He looked at me with a stunned expression and said, "I think I forgot how..." perfectly quoting a line we heard in a movie once, so I knew he was kidding.

With a loopy grin, I put my arm around his shoulders. "I'll show you. Okay?"

"Yes, Lex," he replied, his smile brighter than every lamp in the house, "make love to me. Please."

I leaned over and kissed him tenderly, then got up and lowered the windowshade. When I turned back to him, he had turned down the bedclothes and was reaching for the top button of his shirt. "No, baby. Let me." He dropped his hands and nodded, his eyes dark with passion. One by one, I slid his buttons free, placing a kiss on his lips for each one. My fingers stroked his skin underneath the plaid flannel, then pushed the rustic garment off his shoulders. A warm rush swept from my head to settle restlessly between my legs like it was our very first time, so I quickly kicked off my slippers and went to work on his jeans. Soon he was stripped naked and lying back on his bed watching raptly as I untied the belt of my robe. My underwear joined his on the floor, and I joined him between the sheets.

"I love you," I murmured just loud enough for him to hear me, then began feasting on his luscious mouth. His heart fluttered under my fingertips as I petted his proud chest and pushed my tongue against his. Our hard cocks bumped each other down below, making us groan needily down each other's throats.

Reaching out with one hand, I grabbed the box of prophylactics and yanked it open. When I tore open a packet and removed the rubber, Clark held out his hand for the wrapper, folding his fingers around it securely as soon as I'd placed it in his palm as if it were a valuable keepsake. He looked up at me reverently as I prepared myself, then spread his legs wide to receive me. "I love you," he said clearly as I positioned my penis at his opening, not letting his eyes close as I pushed inside.

For just a moment, we both held absolutely still, relishing the feeling of being linked together on his turf for a change. "Now?" I asked simply.

"Yes," he nodded, holding my gaze like his most priceless possession, so I pulled back out, then slipped in once again. Gently, he placed his hand, still clutching the condom wrapper, against the small of my back to let it ride along with the swooping rhythm of my stroke.

As I balanced myself against his shoulder, I took his erection in my other hand, whereupon he interlaced his fingers with mine around it. We watched each other's eyes, making our connection complete as we coupled in his bed. Almost soundlessly, his breath sped up and deepened, his chest rising and falling sensuously. Far too soon, the rhythm broke, and, after a long hold, he exhaled hard yet contentedly, his semen spurting hot from our clutched hands.

The expression of sheer happiness on his face combined with the spasms I felt in his body nudged me past the point of holding back, and I rode my orgasm like it was a foreign car speeding over a rise in a country road. After it was over, we lay together for a long time like if we were to move, something perfect and wonderful would be broken forever. I almost didn't dare blink, hating to lose sight of the man I loved for that brief second.

Finally, Clark leaned up and kissed me, interrupting the moment, but reaffirming the strength of our bond. A tickle in the back of my throat almost made me feel like I might cry, but his trust and pure love grounded me and brought me back home safely.

Without a word, we separated at last and prepared for sleep, nestling together on his little bed and wrapping ourselves snugly in the same blanket. Knowing in our hearts that neither of us would let the other fall, we exchanged a last kiss and slept.

In the morning, I made myself useful again before Clark left for school, then packed up my things to resume my rightful place at the castle.

"You're leaving?" Clark asked, somehow not quite as surprised or disappointed as I might otherwise have expected him to be.

"After last night, I feel like I could take on the world. My father and my brother will be a piece of cake."

This made him grin proudly. "I'm glad. I will miss you, though. It was really wonderful having you here."

"It was wonderful being here. Thank your mother for me--for everything," I added, catching his eye so he knew exactly what I meant.

He blushed a little as he answered, "I will. I hope you can stay over again sometime soon."

"I'd like that," I assured him, giving him a warm hug and a sweet kiss before I turned to head down for breakfast. "Oh, Clark? Did you know you snore?"

Rolling his eyes, he replied, "My dad always tell me I do on fishing trips, but it never bothered me."

I thought about it a moment. "Actually, last night, it didn't bother me, either."

"Maybe I just snore on the camp cot."

"No--no, I could hear you last night. It just didn't bother me."

My tease was met with a pillow smack in the chest.

So Clark snores. I guess I never noticed when I felt like I was at home. Maybe in the future, when I sleep over at the farm, I won't notice it at all.


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