Author: Janet F. Caires-Lesgold
Feedback to: jfc@freeshell.org
Archive: Mailing list archives only--others please ask permission!
Category: Story, romance, dialogue - sequel to "The Taste of Caviar"
Spoilers: Not many, if any
Rating: Very strong R for language and sexual situations
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Summary: Lex plots his next move, but Clark beats him to it

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 NOTE: This piece is the third of my Smallville stories, following "First Fruit" and "The Taste of Caviar", which can be found elsewhere on my webpage - You don't have to read them first, but it might help.

DEDICATION: For Tiff, but aren't they all? Also, a slap of the wrist to HGTV, whose coverage of the 2002 Rose Parade the other day included footage of anthuriums being emasculated on daytime TV. Well, it was cable...

COPYRIGHT: (C) January 4, 2002, 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 Kent likes flowers, and me.

This afternoon wasn't so much a revelation as proof.

Now I know: it's not just wishful thinking. There is something behind the attention he pays to me, something beyond just being neighborly.

Good. Just as I suspected.

My plan is working perfectly. I thought he'd be more receptive if I went shyly bearing gifts--hat in hand, so to speak. Right first time.

I can't rush him, though. He's so young, so inexperienced, so beautiful--

Hold it. I just want to seduce him, claim him as mine. If I let my heart get involved in this, people could get hurt.

Mostly me. Not good.

So I've kissed him, a noticeably not unwelcome advance. The gauntlet has been thrown down. The match is on. There are a couple of avenues open to me now...

Damn. The phone. "Yes?"

"Mr. Luthor? A Mr. Clark Kent for you." Interesting. Very interesting. "Should I tell him you've retired for the evening?"

"No, no," I correct him, hoping I don't sound too eager. "Put him on." The background noise changes, so I address my caller: "Hello, Clark."

"Oh, there you are, Lex. That was weird, getting your butler..."


"Whatever. Hey--I'm not calling too late, am I? If I'm imposing, tell me. I'll call back tomorrow..."

"Not at all. You can call me anytime. What's on your mind?"

"Um..." He falls silent for a few moments, but I let him take his time. "I wanted to thank you again for the flowers..."

"You don't have to thank me. They were merely a token of my appreciation--you know that." He doesn't speak again. "What's the matter, Clark?"

At last, he answers, "Did you mean what you said this afternoon?"

"I'm pretty sure I meant everything I said to you today. Which part did you have in mind?"

I think I can hear him gulp over the phone. "The part about... about being, uh, more than friends?"

A-ha. An avenue opens before me. "Yes, Clark. I remember that, and yes, I meant every word of it. What do you want?"

"I don't know..." He almost whines like a sleepy little boy. I think I like it.

"Why did you call me?"

"I... I couldn't sleep." There's more, but he's not telling me yet.

"Why couldn't you sleep, Clark? Were you thinking about this afternoon?"


"Were you thinking about what I said?"


"Did you come up with an answer for me?"


"I asked you a question today. Would you like to be more than friends?"

Another long pause. "I think so... Yeah."

I cannot conceal my amusement, or my interest. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." His voice has a smile in it. This is fun.

Anything further from him is slow in arriving. "Was there something else?"

He swallows hard. "Before you left..."


"You, uh... kissed me."

There it is--the reason he can't sleep. "Yes, Clark. Yes, I did." It's a vivid memory, sweet and sentimental--everything a first kiss should be. "If I'm not mistaken, you kissed me back, didn't you?"

"Yeah." It's a barely-perceptible whisper, full of promise.

"Did you like it when I kissed you?"

"Yessss..." The sibilance of the word coils around my mouth almost like his tongue might someday.

"Do you want to kiss me again sometime?"

"God, yes!"

His enthusiasm is definitely arousing, but I must play him very slowly and gently. It won't do to break him down too quickly. "Is that why you called?"

"Um, yeah." He grows quiet yet again. Eventually, he speaks. "Lex?"

"Yes, Clark?"

"There was something I wanted to ask you..."

The truth comes out. "Go ahead."

"Uhhhh..." God, he is so young!

"It's okay, Clark. Tell me what you want."

"I know it's late, but..."


"Can I come over?"

Hmmmm... A playdate. Yes, it's late, but it's also early--far too early for me to take everything I want from him. Time to stall him. "You're right--it is awfully late. Isn't it a school night for you?"

"It won't take me but a few minutes to get there. Would it be okay?"

"Hold your horses there, speedy! I imagine we've both got to get up pretty early tomorrow morning. What did you have in mind?"

"I... I want to kiss you again."

"That's all? Just a goodnight kiss?"

"No..." I swear I can hear him blush.

"What is it, Clark? What do you really want?"

"Do you want to kiss me some more?"

"Yes, I do. I want to, very much. So just what are you asking?"

"I could come over, and we could kiss for awhile..."

I can't help myself--I laugh out loud. "You want to come over here and make out?"

His voice has a slightly harder edge to it now. "Uh, maybe..."

Oops. I've offended him. We can't have that. "I'm sorry, Clark. I didn't mean to laugh. You just caught me by surprise. It's been a long time since I've made out with anyone. I must have been fifteen at the time."

He's still hurt. "I am fifteen."

Fuck! I forgot! Breaking sodomy laws is going to be bad enough--the last thing I need is for Jonathan Kent to bring me up on pederasty charges. I'll have to stall longer than I thought--until his next birthday at least. How to get out of this gracefully now but keep the flames burning for later... Ah! I have an idea. "God, Clark--I always forget you're just in high school. You're so mature for your age. Thank you for reminding me. We could get in real trouble..."

Obviously, he still hasn't quite figured everything out yet. "We could get in trouble for making out?"

Perhaps a different angle. "Have you ever made out with a girl, Clark?"

"Um, yeah--at a party... Once." I can tell it wasn't with Lana, or any other girl he really liked.

"Do you know how girls can make out for awhile, but then they can walk away like nothing happened, but you're still turned on?"

"Yeah." Touche'.

"You've never made out with a guy, have you?"

"No." Sheepish, but still a little defensive. Advantage: Luthor.

"I've got news for you. You know how you felt when that girl walked away after making out with you, right?"


"Guys don't walk away from it, Clark. I certainly can't. If you started something with me, I'd need to finish it." So I'm exaggerating a little. He has no way of knowing that.

"What do you mean?"

I pause for emphasis. "I mean, if you got me all turned on, I'd want you to make me come."

He evidently hasn't considered the seriousness of his suggestion, and the sudden realization of this takes him aback. His voice is actually shaking a little when he asks, "What would you make me do?"

Oh, God. I never meant to frighten him. Time to back off a bit. "I wouldn't make you do anything." Without waiting to see if he believes me, I continue. "You'd probably want to come, too, so I imagine we could think of something for us to do together. I don't want to scare you or hurt you." That at least is the truth.

"I don't think you could hurt me. I'm pretty tough." He sure doesn't sound tough, but I don't disagree with him. "So you're saying we could get in trouble for fooling around?"

"Yes, that's what I'm saying. You're underage. Maybe after you're sixteen..."

Brightening audibly, he says, "I'll be sixteen in four months! Can we do stuff then?"

Trying to make him hear my smile, I answer, "Definitely. We could probably do some "stuff" earlier than that, but not tonight, Clark. It's very late..."

"But..." His voice is unnaturally loud.

"But what?"

Much more softly, he proceeds. "I really don't think I could sleep now."

"What's wrong?"

"Um..." He's cute when he doesn't want to use naughty words.

I practically whisper, "Are you too hard to sleep?"

He whispers back, "Yes."

A little shudder of victory shimmies down my spine. "Do you need to come?"

"Uh-huh." He sounds tired and strung out and uncomfortable. In spite of my desires, right now I just want to help him feel better.

"Let me do something for you. Can I do that?"

"Okay." Exhaustion wins out over hesitance. Point in my favor.

"Are you in bed?"

"No, I'm in the kitchen. The signal to the cordless phone doesn't reach up there."

"Is there someplace in the house where the phone reaches and you can lie down?"

"Let me go over to the couch." I hear him walk from one room to another.

"Are your parents asleep? Will they be able to hear you?"

"I'll talk quietly."

I grin to myself. "I mean, do you make a lot of noise when you come?"

"Oh." He chuckles softly. "Sometimes. I'll make sure I don't wake anybody up."

"Good. What are you wearing?"

"How much do you charge per minute, Lex?"

"Cut it out! Do you want to come or not?"

"Sorry," he apologizes, more relaxed now. "I'm in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt."

"If I were there right now, what would you do to me?"

"I'd kiss you."

"With tongue?" I'm kidding, and he knows it, but I'm enjoying this.

"Yessss..." Apparently, he's enjoying this, too.

"Are you touching yourself now, Clark?"

"Shouldn't I?"

"Sure. That's the whole point. Do you want it to be my hand reaching into your pajamas?"

"Yes, Lex."

"Do you want me to hold your cock like you're doing right now?"


"I'll bet you're really hot and hard, aren't you?"


"I like touching you, Clark. Am I stroking you fast enough?"

"Oh, yes..."

"Does that feel good?"

"Oh... yeah..."

"Would you like me to suck you off?"

"Oh, God..."

"Can you feel my mouth on your cock?"


"You taste so good, Clark... I want you to come down my throat. Can you come for me?"

He is breathing hard and reduced to wordless grunting with a couple of moans tossed in.

"It's okay--I want to hear you come."

"Lex!" he begins to call out, and his voice is immediately muffled, like he's turned his head to shout into the sofa cushions. I can just make out his cries of "Oh, ffffuck, Lex! Oh, Gahhhhd..."

I give him a couple moments to wind down, just listening to him breathe for awhile. That didn't take longer than a minute or two. Another nice thing about being young... Finally, I dare to ask, "Are you all right?"

He gives a deliciously satisfied groan. "Ugh. I'm gonna have to put on a clean shirt."

"But are you...?"

"Fine. Good. Great, really. Thank you. That felt really good. I never... I mean, it was better than just my hand alone, y'know?"

"You're welcome. Do you think you can sleep now?"

"Yeah, provided I can walk upstairs. My knees are a little wobbly."

I smile over the phone again. "Then my work here is done."

"I just wish you were here now," he says around a yawn.

"Why now?

"You did say something about a goodnight kiss..."

I picture the glint of the full moon off his perfect grinning teeth, and reply, "Oh, Clark! If only... You get some sleep, okay? We'll get together really soon. I promise."

"Okay. Good night, Lex. I'm glad I called. I'll talk to you later..."

As I hang up the phone, I realize I'm glad he called, too. Eyes on the prize, and all that. Damn, it's late, and, uh, something's come up I need to handle before I go to sleep. Clark's voice, shouting my name when he came, has had a definite effect on me.

Clark likes me.

The plan is working.

Maybe too well.



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