Title: Getting Jiggy  (A stand alone story in the Shadows and Stone Universe.)
Author: Lacey McBain
Email: LaceyMcBain
Rating: NC-17. Slash. Clark/Lex.
Summary: A newspaper article and a nosy reporter interfere in our boys’ plans for getting jiggy.
Notes: Praise be to Milly Chen for her article “When Frodo met Sam” in the Times Online (http://www.timesonline.co.uk) that contained the line:  “Type ‘slash’ into your search engine and you will find ... Clark Kent getting jiggy with Lex Luthor.”
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but if I did they’d be getting jiggy all the time.  All the time.
Huge Thanks:  To the SV Gang for always listening to everything I throw at them, and to Nuala and versipellis for specific jabs with pointy sticks.  Thank you for saving me from myself.  Any errors that remain are mine, all mine.

***
    
Lex was still staring at the newspaper article that had been preoccupying his thoughts for the better part of the last hour when he heard the penthouse door open and the sound of size 14 shoes being kicked carelessly into the hall closet.

“Lex?”

“In the study, Clark.”

Lex felt a rush of wind--a moment later he had a lapful of warm Clark and a mouthful of tongue.  Jeez, Clark was getting faster all the time.  He decided it wasn’t worth it to lodge a formal protest; he gave in to being kissed enthusiastically, if not skillfully.  It wasn’t that Clark didn’t know exactly how to kiss him expertly, it’s just that there were a large number of times he opted not to.  Lex wasn’t sure at what point Clark had figured out that wild, sloppy teenage-Clark kisses were one of Lex’s secret kinks, but Clark had certainly learned to exploit the fact over the years they’d been together.

There were strong hands already working the buttons on his shirt before Lex had even had a chance to come up for air.   He slapped at Clark’s hands playfully.  “Stop that.  I’m not going to be your life-size play toy any time you’re feeling frisky.”

Clark was sucking at the hollow of Lex’s throat.  He pulled away to look at Lex skeptically.

“You’re not?” Clark pouted.  Lex rolled his eyes at the swollen lower lip that jutted provocatively at him.  He resisted the urge to suck on it.  “What happened to Lex Luthor, sex toy extraordinaire?  I’m sure you came with some kind of a guarantee.  Ready and willing to have sex any time, anywhere ...”

“With anyone ...”  A hint of bitterness slipped beneath the teasing.

Clark glared at him, then nipped at Lex’s lower lip.  “With anyone who is me.”

“Oh, is that how it is?” Lex said, taking a deep breath and regaining his form.  He had a lapful of eager Clark, playful and wanting sex, and Lex was worrying about a hackneyed newspaper article and a grainy photograph.  Lex momentarily wondered when he’d taken complete leave of his senses.  He gave up resisting the pout; his tongue flicked lightly across Clark’s full lips.

“Hm,” Clark said, shifting to nuzzle at Lex’s neck.  “Maybe this one’s defective.  It doesn’t seem to be co-operating.”

“I co-operated just fine this morning.  Twice.”

“That was this morning, Lex.  That was,” Clark lifted his arm to glance at his watch, “fourteen hours ago.  Since then, I’ve been trapped in a story meeting listening to Perry and Lois see who can yell louder and swear more--”

“I’d put money on Lois.”

“--had to cover a press conference on waste disposal--”

“The hardships of a cub reporter.”

“--and lost the final draft of the story on Senator Creeley when Lois spilled coffee on my desk, the computer, and me.”  Clark was ignoring Lex’s interruptions.

“Hence the t-shirt and jeans,” Lex said, noticing that Clark had changed clothes since this morning.

“Nothing gets past you, does it?”  Clark placed a lazy kiss just beneath Lex’s ear.  Lex breathed in deeply and reveled in the pleasures of familiarity.  Clark always felt exactly right.  Exactly like home.

“Absolutely nothing,” Lex said, settling his arms comfortably around Clark’s waist and tugging him closer.

“Don’t you want to know what your favourite superhero was up to?” Clark asked casually.

“Probably brooding, tormenting the Boy Wonder, and racing around Gotham in that testosterone-powered vehicular monstrosity he calls a car.”

“Actually, he calls it The Batmobile, and you helped him design it, if I recall,” Clark said, taking a gentle swipe at Lex’s sensitive ear.  Lex shivered at the touch of tongue.  

“Hm, I guess I did.  It seemed like a much better idea when we were sixteen.”

“I’m sure a lot of things did,” Clark said, kissing Lex’s neck hard enough to leave a faint mark.  Lex arched against him.  Okay, no more talk about Bruce.  Message received and understood.

“So, what did Superman do today?” Lex said, hands slipping beneath the t-shirt and rubbing wide circles across Clark’s lower back.  He could feel the tension start to ease beneath his fingers.

“Well, there was flash flooding in the Philippines, a train wreck in Texas, and an explosion at a coal mine up in Canada.”  Clark leaned his head against Lex’s shoulder and submitted to Lex’s hands.  “That feels nice,” he whispered.

“No more complaints about your play toy?” Lex asked warmly.

“It appears to have a massage function I wasn’t aware of,” Clark said coyly.  Lex smiled and pulled Clark’s shirt over his head, exposing warm bare skin.

“I have many hidden talents, Clark.”  Lex trailed his tongue along Clark’s shoulder.  He could feel goose bumps rising on Clark’s skin.  Lex liked knowing he could still have that effect.

“I wonder if it vibrates too.”  Clark’s voice was all innocence.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”  Lex laughed and pulled Clark into a deep kiss.

The next few minutes were lost in familiar explorations, mouths that knew each other’s sweet spots, tongues that slid wetly against one another as their bodies responded.  Lex could feel his lapful of Clark getting harder by the moment.  Not that he was complaining.

“Lex,” Clark said breathlessly, pulling back to look into Lex’s sharp blue eyes.  “You were kidding about not wanting to have sex now, right?”

“Maybe,” Lex said.  He enjoyed torturing Clark entirely too much for his own good; Lex figured it was probably good they were lovers and not enemies.  Not that a little sexual frustration had ever killed anyone.  Anticipation was a good thing.

“Lex,” Clark said, and it was as good as a whimper.  He slid off Lex’s lap to kneel on the floor in front of his chair.  A rumpled newspaper was covering Lex’s lap.

“So that’s what that crinkling sound was,” Lex said.  “I was wondering if you’d purchased some sort of kinky paper underwear.”

Clark was about to toss the paper aside when he caught the headline on the page Lex had been reading.

Lex Luthor:  Getting Jiggy?

Clark grabbed the newspaper and scanned at it as if he’d like to set it on fire.  He stood, laying the paper on top of Lex’s desk, and began to smooth out the creases.

Lex sighed.  It was one thing to tease Clark unmercifully during foreplay, but an actual distraction of this magnitude was not likely to lead to sex any time soon.  So much for his good mood.  Lex felt the afternoon’s earlier worries wash over him like the inevitable return of the tide.

“Yes, I was a little surprised by that myself,” Lex said, not wanting to admit how long he’d been staring at the paper before Clark arrived home.

“Lex Luthor, sole heir to the Luthor fortune and Metropolis’s favourite son, appeared to be on the prowl at last weekend’s grand re-opening of Tartarus, one of the city’s most exclusive clubs.  Briefly closed earlier this year because of an unexplained fire and rumours of backroom antics--vehemently denied by owner Dante--Tartarus appears to be living up to its reputation as the sexual playground of the rich and famous,” Clark read aloud, his voice crescendoing with anger.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Clark said, sitting on the edge of the desk, eyes flashing darkly over the smudged newsprint.  There in the upper corner of page A7 was a grainy photo of Lex in the middle of a crowded dance floor, locked in a less-than-fraternal embrace with a man whose face was hidden against Lex’s shoulder.  Lex’s pale hands were clearly visible against the man’s black leather pants.  The smile on Lex’s face could only be classified as predatory.

“It wasn’t worth it, Clark.  The Inquisitor just had a slow news day.  I’m surprised Lois didn’t say anything, actually.”

“Maybe she didn’t see it,” Clark said, doubtfully.  It was exactly the kind of article about Lex that Lois was usually more than happy to point out.

Lex shrugged.  “I’m surprised she’d miss an opportunity to remind you of what an inappropriate choice I am.  Maybe she does care about your feelings after all.”  Lex snatched the paper out of Clark’s hands and continued reading where he’d left off.

“Luthor, who in recent years has tried to sway public opinion by participating in such projects as the Metropolis Inner City Foundation, has also charmed the masses with reports of his allegedly blissful long-term relationship that began when his partner was a mere teenager in Smallville.  However, it appears that ‘Sexy Lexy’ has recently gotten back in touch with the behaviours that made him infamous as a youth.  Luthor (photo inset, right) can clearly be seen in the embrace of an unidentified male.  Could it be that Mr. Luthor, whose political ambitions are hardly a secret, has allowed his thoughts to stray?  It is clear, at least to this reporter, that something other than the welfare of this city was pressing foremost on Mr. Luthor’s mind.”

“It wasn’t your mind I was pressing on.”

Lex refused to smile.  “Reports of my domestic happiness have apparently been greatly exaggerated.”

“The article is pure and unadulterated crap, Lex.”

“Unadulterated may not be the word you’re looking for, Clark.”

Clark’s green eyes narrowed sharply.  “You do realize it’s me in the picture with you, right?  Anyone who knows us is going to see that.  Even--” he scanned for the reporter’s by-line and frowned.  “That bitch!  Carrie Castle knows exactly who’s in that picture.”

“Yes, she does, Clark,” Lex agreed, encouraged by Clark’s anger on his behalf.  He even managed a weak smile as he remembered their night out.  They didn’t often visit the club scene anymore, but Tartarus held a lot of good memories for both of them and Lex had been friends with Dante for years.

“That was a closed event, Lex.  There shouldn’t have been any reporters,” Clark said.  Lex looked at him with a raised eyebrow.  “*I* wasn’t there reporting on things.  I was dancing.  With you.  Dante knows he doesn’t have to worry about me.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that she was there.”

“We were invited.  She slithered in through a dark hole in the wall.”

“I guess that’s what we get for frequenting a club named for the lowest level of the underworld:  Tartarus, born out of Chaos, destination of wicked souls.”

“You’re slipping into mythology, Lex--try to focus.”  Clark put his hands on Lex’s shoulders.  “And it’s the first time we’ve gone to a club in months.  That doesn’t count as ‘frequenting.’  You know Dante is going to freak when he sees this.  He doesn’t like reporters using his club to make people look bad--especially friends.  Besides, we didn’t do anything wrong.  You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It looks like I’m cheating on you,” Lex said, surprised how rough the words sounded now that they’d actually clawed their way to the surface.

“It looks like you’re cheating with me,” Clark said pointing at the picture.  “Look--that is clearly your hand on my ass.  Mine.”

“Yes, but no one else will know that,” Lex said stubbornly.

“Right, the Property of Lex Luthor stamp is not clearly visible in the picture.  What was I thinking?  I should’ve worn the pants with the cut-outs.”

“I’m glad to see you’re taking this seriously.”

“I was--until I realized you were taking it seriously enough for both of us.  Carrie Castle is a spiteful bitch who’s had it in for you since the day she pretended to have car trouble in Smallville to get an interview with you.  She’s still bitter because she couldn’t get into your pants, and because you killed her ambitions with a phone call.”

Lex opened his mouth to say something.  Clark stopped him with a look.

“I know what you can do, Lex.  I’ve known you too long.  But if you seriously think you’re capable of cheating on me after all this time, then you should consider getting that shiny bald head of yours examined by a professional.”

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, Clark,” Lex said quietly, and was surprised when Clark laughed.

“Bull.  Shit.”  Clark reached out to drag Lex’s chair closer.  He slid off the desk and into Lex’s lap, straddling him as he had earlier.  “I can’t believe you’d let a woman whose writing is the journalistic equivalent of bad porn to push your buttons like this.  I mean, could she possibly have used any more innuendoes in that article?  She as much as said you seduced me as a teenager, lied about our happiness, and that you help people only because it’s good for your political career.”

“What part did she get wrong?”  Lex closed his eyes and leaned back.

“I seduced you, remember?” Clark murmured against Lex’s neck.  “I know Toby gave you the good stuff that night, but you weren’t that far out of it, Lex.”  He licked at the faint bruise he’d left earlier.  “And the show tunes were actually pretty funny.”

Clark kissed his way to Lex’s mouth.  Lex kept his lips firm, closed.  Revisiting that damn article had totally wiped out the good mood that Clark had managed to generate when he got home.  Lex was feeling difficult.

“Lex,” Clark whispered, licking at the scar on his upper lip.  “Come on, this is ridiculous.”

He nudged at Lex’s lips with an insistent tongue.  Lex was being stubborn.

“Lex, we’ll call the paper and have them print a retraction.  We’ve been out for a long time; there’s no harm in acknowledging it’s my ass you’ve got your hand on.”

 “I already did,” Lex said, and forced himself to relax against Clark.  He hated when he let other people interfere with their relationship.  “They’ll print a retraction tomorrow.”

Lex closed his eyes and sighed.  A retraction wasn’t enough.  He wanted revenge.  Blood.  The ability to exile Carrie Castle to a remote area of the Gobi desert exclusively inhabited by scorpions, snakes, and poisonous spiders.  Somewhere he had no doubt she’d fit right in.

Clark’s teeth tugged lightly at Lex’s bottom lip.  “Then why the heavy sigh?” Clark asked between kisses.  Lex felt as if Clark were scanning him with his x-ray vision.  “You’re having revenge fantasies again, aren’t you?”

“I hate having to fight for everything,” Lex said.  The revenge fantasies were nobody’s damn business--even Clark’s.   “Sometimes I’d just like life to be a little easier.”

“Then stop fighting and let me kiss you properly,” he whispered, and Lex relented.  Clark’s lips were soft and soothing, his tongue gentle and strong against Lex’s mouth.  In spite of himself, Lex moaned as Clark kissed him thoroughly.  Expertly.  He briefly wondered who had taught him to kiss like that.

“You did,” Clark murmured, and Lex realized he’d said the words out loud.  He buried his hands in Clark’s hair and claimed his mouth roughly until he had to pull back for breath.

“Bedroom,” Clark said insistently.  “Now.”  Lex nodded.  He’d fought with enough people today.  That damn Carrie Castle and her self-righteous editor.  The photographer who refused to give up the negatives.  Not to mention ...

Lex looked up to see Clark looking at him expectantly.  “You just can’t stop thinking, can you?” Clark said, shaking his head and holding out a hand.

“Sorry.”  Lex took Clark’s extended hand.  He let himself be led towards their bedroom.

“Nope--too late for sorry,” Clark said abruptly.  Lex stopped, stunned.

“It’s been a long day, Clark.  Please tell me you’re kidding.”

“Not kidding,” Clark said, but he was grinning.

Lex’s eyes narrowed.  What was Clark playing at now?  This afternoon’s emotional roller coaster ride with promises of sex followed by absolutely no sex was getting tiresome.

“I’ve told you it’s not good to fuck with a Luthor, right?”  

“Actually, you’ve told me the exact opposite.  Several times.”  Clark flashed his trademark 1000-watt smile.  Lex knew he was in trouble now.

“The bedroom is that way,” Lex said, tugging at Clark’s arm.  “It’s right there, Clark.”  He was vaguely aware that this might be construed as begging, and Luthors most certainly didn’t beg--not even for sex with inhumanly beautiful farm boys.

Lex put two hands around Clark’s forearm and pulled.  Not an inch.  It pissed him off to realize there was nothing he could do to physically move Clark if he didn’t want to be moved.  Being in love with the strongest man on the planet could be a real pain in the ass at times.

“I’ve learned that fucking with a Luthor can actually be quite rewarding,” Clark said when Lex stopped pulling at his arm.  “Challenging, occasionally dangerous, but usually very rewarding.”

Clark was still smiling.  Lex didn’t like it.  He liked their nice predictable rhythms--they’d spent years perfecting them, after all.  Clark would ambush him, begging for immediate gratification;  Lex would tease him without mercy before relenting; Lex would also occasionally spend too much time thinking and then Clark would drag him off to the bedroom (or the office or the car) and fuck him senseless and make him forget whatever was bothering him.  It was familiar.  Lex was happy with the way things were between them.  Life was good.

And now Clark was an immovable object ten feet from their bedroom door and beaming like a lighthouse beacon.  This clearly called for drastic action.

Quicker than thought, Lex moved closer, stretching up the few inches difference in their heights and claiming Clark’s mouth with a hot, hard kiss.  Lex wrapped his arms tight around Clark’s neck, then with muscles built up from years of fencing, swung his legs up around Clark’s hips.  There was a startled gasp, and Clark’s hands immediately slipped under his ass, holding him.  Lex smiled smugly--he knew Clark would never let him fall--and it felt good to still be able to surprise him.

“Lex,” Clark breathed against his mouth.  “Is that ... comfortable?”

“What do you think?” Lex asked, rocking his groin against Clark’s abdomen.  From Clark’s groan he knew he’d gotten the upper hand in whatever game they were playing.

“That’s not fair, Lex.”  Lex could feel large hands squeezing him eagerly, pulling him tighter against Clark’s rock-hard body.  “I had a plan to cheer you up.”  Clark sounded breathless and wanton.  Lex smirked as he dragged his teeth across Clark’s lower lip and bit into the soft flesh at his throat.  Clark arched his neck back with an approving sound.

“Did the plan involve sex?” Lex asked, clenching the muscles in his thighs and drawing himself closer against Clark’s body.  The movement elicited another groan.

“Lots of sex.  Tons.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Lex murmured and let his tongue slide roughly down to the hollow of Clark’s throat.  He licked lovingly at the spot, knowing it was sensitive.  The hands on Lex’s ass tightened, shifting him slightly so he was pushing against Clark’s erection.

“But we were s’posed to--” Clark was distracted now, and Lex licked him in long slow strokes, reaching up a hand to grasp a nipple and twist it sharply.  Clark’s breathless “fuck” was everything Lex needed to know.

“Supposed to what?”

“Go out,” Clark managed.  Lex raised an eyebrow.

“Out where?”

“The club,” Clark answered, turning them around so that he could lean Lex against the wall.

“The club where I was recently photographed cheating on you?”

“Lex,” Clark moaned.  “Don’t be a jerk.”

“Why the club?”  Lex was curious.  Clark was hard and breathless and thrusting weakly against him now.

“I wanted to fuck you in the middle of the dance floor so everyone would know who you belong to.”

Lex felt his cock grow harder.  God, he loved it when Clark got aggressive, possessive.  They’d come a long way from Clark’s shy blushes and oh-so-careful touches.  The Clark who was afraid of breaking him had grown into someone who wore leather pants.  Someone who wanted to fuck him in public places.  Interesting.

“Okay,” Lex said, teeth worrying along the side of Clark’s jaw.  He felt Clark’s hands tighten on his ass to the point of bruising.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, take me to Tartarus and fuck me.  Fuck me so everyone knows I’m yours.”

Clark pulled away slightly, and looked at Lex, breathing hard.  “Lex, are you really--”

“Now, Clark.  Super-speed.  If I’m not in that club in five minutes, all bets are off,” Lex growled.

Lex caught the edges of Clark’s grin as he dropped his legs from around Clark’s waist, and then he was being lifted and carried in a familiar current of warmth and air.  He closed his eyes, held tightly to Clark’s bare chest and continued to kiss his neck.  He’d never really tested how much concentration Clark needed to super-speed.  Suddenly, the feeling of motion stopped, and Lex let his legs drop to the ground.

They were standing in the empty back alley behind Tartarus.  Clark was grinning like a Cheshire cat.  He reached out and knocked on a non-descript door, one arm slung loosely over Lex’s shoulders.

The door opened and a grim-faced security guard glared at them.

“Entrance is around front, boys,” he said, and started to close the door again.  Clark put a hand on it, stopping it.

“If you tell Dante that Clark and Lex are here, I’m sure he’ll be okay with us slipping in this way.”

They heard another voice in the background and a familiar blonde head poked through the door.  “I thought I recognized that voice,” Dante said, waving them in.  “God, after that article, I wasn’t sure the two of you would ever come back.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” Clark said, moving through the crowded labyrinthine halls behind the fair-haired club owner.

“Clark,” Dante said, suddenly turning and facing the two of them.  “Aren’t you cold?”

Clark flushed red as he realized he was wearing only his jeans.  His t-shirt was back at the penthouse on the floor of Lex’s office.

“And you, Lex,” Dante said casting a glance at Lex.  “Letting the boy run around half-naked!”

Lex raised an eyebrow and waited for Dante to finish.  Dante grinned wickedly.  “Bravo, Lex.  Abs like that just shouldn’t be hidden.”  He patted Clark affectionately on the stomach.

“Lex, go make yourself at home; I’ll find something for the poor boy to wear,” Dante said, taking Clark by the arm and leading him towards the offices.

Lex grinned.  Anything that Dante was likely to have lying around that would fit Clark would probably prove to be an interesting wardrobe choice.  Lex straightened his own clothes, and moved easily through the crowds and across the floor.  He made his way up the massive curved staircase and found a place along the railing on the club’s quieter second level.  An almost private balcony was tucked around the corner from what Lex knew was a second set of security offices and private meeting rooms.  From here he could see the dance floor below.

It was still early and the place was just beginning to come to life under the steady thrum of music and lights.  Lex looked appreciatively at the couples dancing in the club’s low lights.  There were men dancing with men, women with women, men with women.  Dante’s club attracted all kinds, all permutations of the mating dance.  Lex couldn’t help but smile as he watched beautiful men and women moving sensuously to the heavy beat.  He wondered how much longer Clark was going to keep him waiting.

Almost immediately there was a warm body pressed against him.  Lex breathed in deeply, and felt every muscle in his body tense.

“Hey, gorgeous.  Want to play?”

The voice and body were unfamiliar.  Lex’s hands instinctively clutched the railing more tightly, although no one watching would have been able to tell that Lex was anything other than absolutely calm.

“I’m taken.  I suggest you find someone else to play with,” Lex said coldly, shifting away from the man behind him, not deigning to turn around.

“You didn’t look taken in the paper,” the man whispered, pressing his hips firmly against Lex’s.

“The paper was wrong,” Clark said, laying a hand on the man’s shoulder and pulling him away from Lex with more force than was absolutely necessary.  The man stumbled backwards against a small table and looked at the two of them in surprise.

“I--I didn’t know,” the man stuttered, backing away.

“Now you do,” Clark said.  “Get out.”  Clark’s voice was as cold as Lex had ever heard it.  He turned around to see the man scrambling back towards the stairs, Clark standing a few feet away and glaring.  Lex looked at him appraisingly.

Clark’s long legs were wrapped in black leather.  The muscles in his back could be seen through a tight black mesh shirt that clung to him like a second skin.  Lex smiled.  Dante had done well.

“Clark.”

Clark moved across the small space and slipped his arms around Lex’s waist, pulling him close.

“I can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?” Clark said mildly.

“I can’t help it if people find me irresistible.”   Lex shrugged and moved his hands to rest on Clark’s hips, admiring the way the smooth leather clung in all the right places.

Clark shook his head.  “Well, at least in Metropolis they aren’t usually trying to kill you.”

“Usually,” Lex smirked.  “Mostly here they just want to fuck me.”

Clark shook his head.  “Too bad you’re taken.”  Clark kissed him hard and Lex thought he could taste blood on his tongue.  Clark pulled his hips in tight.  Lex could feel Clark hard against him, and his body responded instantly, aching with the want of too many interruptions.

Before Lex realized what was happening he found himself turned around and pressed against the railing again.  This time the rough voice against his ear and the hard erection grinding against his ass were the right ones.

“I’m going to take you right here, Lex.”  He could hear the sound of leather being unlaced behind him, felt Clark’s lips dragging wetly across the back of his scalp.  Lex heard ripping cloth and gasped as he realized Clark had just bared his ass without significantly altering the view from below.  He felt a surge of adrenaline rush through him as he looked at the sea of writhing bodies on the dance floor.  “I’m going to fuck you right now, and all of those people are going to know it.”

“How?” Lex asked breathlessly.

“All they’ll have to do is look at your face, Lex.”  He could hear the smile in Clark’s voice as he spoke.  “You look incredible when you come for me.  The way you bite your lip when you’re trying not to scream.”

Lex closed his eyes and leaned forward as he felt Clark’s hands on his bare flesh.  One hand lightly stroking his balls, fingers deft and warm, slick with lube; Clark’s other hand was sliding under the now loose cloth of Lex’s torn pants, finding its way to his erection.  Lex couldn’t help it--he arched his back and moaned, knowing what it must look like below.  God, it had been ages since he’d done anything in public, and never anything this public.  Not with Clark.  Not like this.

Clark’s fingers were stroking him everywhere at once.  Lex found himself spreading his legs further, wanting to allow Clark as much access as possible as he felt the first blunt nudge of a slick finger entering him.

“Fuck,” Lex gasped, pushing back against Clark’s fingers, moving and stretching inside him with the ease of years of practice.  Clark knew Lex’s body better than anyone ever had.  Clark’s mouth moved to his neck, sucking hard against Lex’s pale skin.  Lex could feel the blood being pulled to the surface, purpling beneath Clark’s insistent pressure.  He knew he was being marked, claimed, taken in front of the world, and Lex didn’t care.  Well, actually he did--he liked it, and that in itself was an incredible feeling, knowing that the most powerful man on the planet wanted him.  Needed him.  Wanted this.

Lex bucked into Clark’s hand as Clark’s strong fingers stroked inside him.  Lex barely kept from crying out, and was thankful that the music in the club was loud and pounding.  It gave him something else to concentrate on besides the smooth scissored thrusts of Clark’s wet fingers opening him up, getting him ready.

“Clark, what about cameras?” Lex managed to gasp, as he felt Clark’s fingers withdraw.  He could feel the hard length of Clark’s cock rubbing against his ass, Clark’s mouth still busy at his neck.

Clark raised his eyes and scanned the club briefly, before returning to Lex’s neck.

“Three handguns, a handful of knives, and several pairs of handcuffs, but no cameras,” Clark murmured.

Clark’s hands, slick and warm, spread Lex further and Clark slowly entered Lex in a long, slow thrust.  Lex leaned forward against the railing, sweat making his palms slick on the metal surface.  He could feel the tight familiar burn as Clark slid into him.

“How does that feel, Lex?  Tell me how good it feels.”

“God, Clark,” Lex said, pushing back as Clark moved inside him.  Clark’s hand reached around and started to stroke him again in time with Clark’s thrusts.  Lex could feel the pressure building in every cell of his body, could hear Clark’s breathing grow ragged as his rhythm increased.  Lex’s hands slipped against the railing; he could feel a rivulet of sweat sliding down his face.  Clark’s tongue swiped flatly at the back of his head, followed by teeth grazing his neck.  “Clark, fuck, you’re going to make me come.”

Lex could feel Clark’s head pressed against the middle of his back, could hear his grunts as he thrust harder into Lex, and Lex gave up trying to maintain any semblance of control.

“Fuck, Clark!” he gasped and thrust his cock roughly against Clark’s hand.  He barely registered the pounding beat of the music, the number of people writhing on the dance floor beneath them, as he came with a sharp cry into Clark’s hand.  A moment later, he could feel Clark’s orgasm pulsing through him, the aftershocks shaking them both.

Lex fought to get his breathing under control, felt Clark’s solid weight pressing against his back, and Lex risked a look below.  Most people seemed too concerned with their own affairs to spare a glance for the two men on the dark balcony.  But here and there Lex could see surreptitious looks aimed upwards, and the occasional blatant stare.  Lex smiled and closed his eyes.

He felt Clark slip out of him and then there were gentle hands cleaning him up.  Clark kissed his neck possessively.

“So, do you think the world knows now that you’re taken?”

“I would think so,” Lex said, “although there might be a few people who failed to catch the big event.”  Lex started to turn around, then thought better of it given the state of his pants.  “Clark, I really hope Dante gave you an extra pair of pants for me.”

“What if he didn’t?”

“Then an awful lot of people are going to see a lot more of me than they’re used to seeing,” Lex said, grinning.

“Yeah, I’ve got pants for you.  Dante felt liked he owed us one,” Clark said, backing the two of them away from the railing and towards a private office just off the balcony.  Once they were inside, Clark pulled Lex close for a proper full-mouthed kiss.  With one last tug, the remnants of Lex’s torn pants and underwear fluttered to the floor.

“I’m surprised you actually went through with it,” Lex said, pulling on the clean pants.  Clark leaned lazily against the wall, black leather pants now fully laced up the front.

“I needed to, Lex.  We needed to.”  Clark pushed off the wall, and wrapped an arm around Lex’s waist, pulling him closer.  “Besides, I wouldn’t want you to get bored with a hick farm kid from Kansas.”

Lex leaned his forehead on Clark’s shoulder.  It was an old joke that wasn’t entirely a joke.  Lex pressed a kiss against the mesh shirt.  “You couldn’t possibly bore me, Clark.  Ever.  And you don’t have to fuck me in public to keep things exciting.”

Lex looked up into searching green eyes and continued:  “Although I’m certainly not complaining.”

Clark smiled.  “Good.”

There was a brief knock before the door was pushed inward and Dante strode into the room, grinning.  “Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but I have what you requested, Clark.”  Dante handed a small white envelope to Lex, and with a wink, turned and left.

“What’s this?” Lex asked.  Normally anything that arrived in a plain envelope was either a threat or a blackmail attempt.

“Open it.”

Lex slid the flap of the envelope open and was confronted with a Polaroid photograph of himself, hands tight on the balcony railing, legs spread, back arched and clearly in the throes of pleasure.  His mouth was half-open, eyes closed, face bright and flushed in the dim light of the club.  Over his shoulder, Lex could just make out Clark’s intense concentration, one hand on Lex’s hip, the other invisible beneath Lex’s pants.

“You asked Dante to take this?” Lex asked.  Clark nodded shyly, studying the photograph in Lex’s hand.  “Why?”

“Power of the press,” Clark joked.  Lex raised an eyebrow, and saw Clark sober.  “I wanted us to have something, just for us.  No blackmail, no newspapers, just us.  Being us.  That’s all.  Is that okay?”

Lex smiled.  “It’s perfect.  I might even frame it and put it on my desk.”

Clark looked at him sharply, and Lex knew he was trying to decide if he was joking or not.  It was fun to keep Clark guessing.

“Lex ...”

“Let’s go home, Clark.”

***

The night air was warm when they ventured out into the alley behind Tartarus after saying goodnight to Dante.  Making sure there was no one around, Clark wrapped Lex in his embrace and flew them up to a level where they wouldn’t be seen.

“I really like the picture, Clark.  I mean, it might be a good reminder to have around the next time someone accuses me of ... getting jiggy,” Lex said, barely able to keep a straight face.

“Lex, I thought tonight would make you forget that damn article.”

“Oh, it’s forgotten.  I just want the world to know that there’s only one person Lex Luthor will be getting jiggy with.”

“Clark Kent?”

“The one and only,” Lex said fondly.  “And maybe occasionally Superman, although The Inquisitor would have a field day with that one, I’m sure.  Superman: Getting Jiggy with Lex Luthor!”

Clark looked scandalized.  “Superman wouldn’t be involved in something like that, Lex!”

Lex smiled and shook his head at Clark’s strange ability to separate himself from Superman on certain issues.  Superman apparently never had sex, but Clark certainly did.  Often.  Loudly.  Occasionally while floating.  Lex grinned and kissed Clark enthusiastically.

“Poor Superman,” Lex said.  “No getting jiggy for him.”

“Lex, would you stop saying that already?  It’s a little disturbing coming from you.”

“Why?”

“Aside from the fact that it’s a stupid expression?  It sounds weird.”

“Why?”

“It’s not the way you normally talk,” Clark replied, heading towards the penthouse.

“Getting jiggy.”

“Lex ...”

“Clark Kent getting jiggy with Lex Luthor.”

“I could drop you, you know.”

“But you won’t.  You want to get jiggy with me.”

Clark heard Lex’s wild laughter as he let him slip from his arms.  He could hear Lex shouting into the wind.

“No getting jiggy for you, Superman!”

Clark smiled and waited only a fraction of a second before racing down to catch Lex in his arms and carry him home to bed where, he suspected, the two of them would be “getting jiggy” for a long time to come.


THE END

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