In Dreams
By Shaman

Sweet boy.  Thick, dark hair, softer than a rabbit’s pelt. A sweep of sable eyelashes that rested against skin the color of fine porcelain with a hint of rose.  The smell of clean, crisp linens mixed with something musky yet subtle; the scent of him.  Oh, the scent of him . . .

Lex Luthor shivered and rubbed his arms briskly despite the bedroom’s comfortable temperature.  In the queen sized bed only several feet away from where he stood, young Clark Kent lay asleep.  Every contour of his body was visible under the silk top sheet that covered him, for he had kicked the thick blue downy quilt aside in his sleep.  The boy lay slumbering deeply on his back, his legs slightly spread and his arms draped across his chest, bent at the elbows like muscular commas.  His dark hair was ruffled with sleep and as Lex watched, Clark turned slightly to one side and his full lips parted in a contented sigh. 
Of course, it had been Lex’s idea that Clark stay overnight in the mansion.  He had been interviewing Lex for The Torch, since Lex was funding this year’s spring formal at Smallville High.  He and Clark had spent the evening in the library, and after several hours of questions, answers and off the record conversation, Lex felt absolutely giddy with lust.  He’d also drunk several glasses of good wine, the effects of which now buzzed pleasantly in his head.  He’d offered Clark a room for the night, which the boy had taken with his usual mix of innocent hesitation and self-consciousness.  Lex had assured him it was all right, although he’d perhaps had alternative motives for offering Clark the room.  Now, as he stood over the boy’s sleeping form, Lex was sure that he had.
So beautiful . . . Lex thought, and reached out to touch Clark’s thick, dark hair, and then his fingers traced down Clark’s cheek with the barest hint of a caress.  He’d been wrestling with his bisexuality for several years, but the day he’d met Clark, Lex knew he had to admit to himself what he truly was, and what he wanted.  Ever since that day on the bridge, what Lex wanted was Clark.  The older boy took a deep breath, and his hand grasped the silk top sheet by its hem.  He pulled it down gently and the material slid aside like ripples of dark blue water.  Lex’s mouth opened slightly and licked his lips when he saw that Clark was clad only in his underwear, a pair of form-fitting briefs that obviously weren’t new, but clean and bleached nonetheless.  Lex glanced aside and saw the silk pajamas Lex had left for him still hanging on the closet door.  I guess they weren’t his style, Lex thought, still studying his young friend’s form.  The broad, almost hairless chest, the long, muscular legs, the lean, hard thighs.  Lex took a deep, shivering breath and sat down on the bed.  Clark stirred again, and Lex put a soothing hand on his shoulder.  The younger boy’s skin was soft and warm, and Lex could resist no longer.  He lowered his head, and put his lips where his hand had been moments earlier.  His tongue slid out from between his lips to taste Clark’s warm skin.  Lex sighed as he tasted musk, and salt, and something else that he couldn’t name; something that belonged to Clark alone.  Trying to control his excited breathing, Lex forced himself to relax as he slid his tongue along Clark’s shoulder and up to his neck.  The skin there shivered under the contact and Clark stirred again with a soft moan that caused Lex’s rising arousal to spike sharply.  He bit back a stifled groan of his own, and continued to kiss and lick Clark’s neck.  One hand gripped the silk bed sheet tightly as the other curled around Clark’s right shoulder, and then slid lightly down his chest.  A long, slender finger traced the rounded curves of one coffee-colored nipple, and Clark’s body jerked at the contact.  Lex pulled his hands away just long enough to skim off his own silk lounging pants to reveal an erection that quivered with the want of release.  Maybe, he thought breathlessly, under the right circumstances, Clark would be willing to give me that release.  He lowered his head again to nip at the underside of Clark’s chin, and then brought his head up slightly to kiss the young boy very gently on the lips.  The faint taste and scent of the chocolate covered cherries they’d both been snacking on earlier was still there, and it only made Lex want Clark all the more.  He kissed Clark again, and then held his breath as the boy’s eyelids fluttered open, revealing those gleaming blue-green eyes that Lex could never look away from.  They were hazy with sleep, but Lex saw the muddled confusion he’d been hoping for there as well.  “Shhhhh, Clark.”  He soothed, grazing Clark’s cheek lightly with the tips of his fingers.  “It’s all right.”

“Lex?”  Clark asked softly, looking up into the older boy’s bright blue eyes.  Lex nodded and eased himself onto the bed so that he was lying next to Clark.

  “It’s me, Clark.  Don’t worry, everything’s fine.”

Clark blinked up at him, still half-asleep.  “I must be dreaming.” He said softly, and Lex touched his cheek. 

 “You must be.” He replied with a smile, and drew Clark into a long, deep kiss.  The younger boy responded with a muffled gasp of surprise, and Lex slid his hands down Clark’s chest.  He toyed with Clark’s nipples until they stood out hard and erect, and until Clark was gasping in between Lex’s devouring kisses.  Lex flicked his tongue around Clark’s ear, and one hand came up to entwine itself around Clark’s own.

“Touch me, Clark.” Lex whispered in his ear, guiding the boy’s hand down to his throbbing erection. “Touch me, please.  It’s all right . . . you’re just dreaming after all.”

Clark looked up at Lex as he allowed his hand to be guided down to the warm, silky flesh that cried out for his touch.  He felt strangely submissive under Lex’s bright, almost predatory gaze.  He’s right . . . I must be dreaming, that’s what it is, a dream, because I would never . . . no, I would never, even though it feels right . . .

“Clark.” Lex whispered again, his tone almost commanding in spite of its volume.  “Clark, touch me.”
Moving slowly, dreamily, Clark did as he was told and wrapped his hand around Lex’s hot, hard flesh.  The older boy cried out in pleasure, his head rolling back and his back arching.  His own hand shot out and yanked Clark’s briefs down, bunching them at mid-thigh and shoving his hand between cotton and flesh.  It was Clark’s turn to cry out and he did, his hips bucking upward to meet Lex’s hand.  He writhed and squirmed as Lex pumped his erection with gentle but insistent strokes.  Their eyes met, a blazing sky blue crashing against a sea of greens and blues like an ocean tossed by a storm.  Wordlessly, Lex commanded him again and Clark began to match Lex’s strokes with those of his own, touches that were inexperienced but enthusiastic.  Lex leaned into Clark’s broad chest, his breath hot against the younger boy’s neck.  Their erections bumped together briefly and their fingers touched.  Clark’s left arm slipped around Lex’s waist and he held his friend tightly as their pleasures both peaked at the same time and their bodies shuddered with release.  Lex pulled away from his friend and touched his face gently as they lay back, both of them panting and grinning. 

“Sleep now.” Lex whispered softly, and Clark’s gleaming cat’s eyes turned up to his.

“I thought you said this was a dream.” He replied, and Lex nodded.

 “It is . . . but now its time to fall back into oblivion, to dream of other things.” He kissed Clark gently on the lips as the young boy closed his eyes and fell back into slumber.  Lex lay awake for a long time after in Clark’s arms, knowing that soon he would have to rise and go to his own bed . . . and perhaps there, in his own dreams, he and Clark would dance again.