Absolut Virgin Lex




“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“When did you lose your virginity?  And give me details.”

The fire crackled in the fireplace behind Clark Kent, as he grinned at his friend.  He’d come over to the castle after dinner to distract Lex from brooding over Cassandra’s death.  Being in the room when she’d died had to have freaked Lex out, whether he admitted it or not, and Clark wasn’t the type of friend to let another suffer.  So, he’d told his parents he’d be home late and had used Lex’s open door policy to his advantage.

Lex Luthor paused in lining up his next billiard shot and stared intently at the cue ball.  They were working on their third game of the evening.  Empty milk glasses and a plate of gingersnap cookie crumbs sat on the glass coffee table.  The low lamplight caressed the dark furniture and made the purple in Lex’s shirt shimmer when he bent over to make a shot.

Clark had started the Truth-or-Dare questions as a quick way for him to get to know Lex better and vice versa.  It was rather lame, but ‘lame’ was Clark’s middle name, according to Pete and Chloe, and Lex’s amusement with the ingenuous juvenility of it made him agree.  So far, Clark had learned that Lex had hidden in coat closets during parties when he was younger, loved chocolate with such a passion he’d banned it from his diet, and could wiggle his ears on command, all for the price of Clark’s most embarrassing moment (a gaping fly at school on a commando day) and a laundry list of favorites, since Lex hadn’t asked for anything substantial.  Yet.  Clark knew it was only a matter of time, especially with the latest question.

Clark rolled his pool cue between his hands, the blunt end dusting his sneaker, as he waited for Lex to answer.  As a virgin himself, he needed to live vicariously through others.  Especially Lex.

“I haven’t.”

Clark was confused by Lex’s quiet words, as the cue ball clacked into the seven ball.  It sunk into the side pocket.  “Haven’t what?”

Lex looked up, wearing a self-conscious expression.  “Lost my virginity yet.”

Clark’s jaw dropped.  The, he closed it with a snap and shook his head.  “Oh, come on.  You expect me to believe that?”

Lex shrugged and circled the table, studying the balls.  “It’s the truth.”

“You’re twenty-one,” Clark said, incredulous.

“And?”

“And you’re Lex Luthor.  You can’t be a virgin, too.”  Clark felt his cheeks heat at his own admission of virginhood.  But he was only fifteen, and a dork.  It was expected.

“Rumors of my proclivities have been greatly exaggerated, Clark,” Lex misquoted.  “I assure you, I would know if I’d had sex with anyone.”

“But… why?” Dumbfounded, Clark gave Lex the once-over.  Lex wore a tight, deep purple v-neck shirt with a white t-shirt beneath it and black fitted trousers that hugged his ass nicely when he bent to make a shot.  “Is it some sort of religious thing?  No sex until marriage, or something?”

Lex barked in laughter that didn’t sound like it was from amusement.  “No, it’s not a religious something.  At the moment, it’s a choice.”

Clark goggled at him.  “You’d choose not to have sex, when you could get anyone you’d want?”

Lex’s mouth curved on one side.  “I appreciate your thinking that.”

“I still think you’re pulling my chain,” Clark said.

“I’m not a woman, Clark.  I can’t very well prove my virginity.”

“Then, how far have you gotten?  Anything is more than me.”

Lex looked down at the table and Clark stared in fascination as a red flush swept up Lex’s neck from under his shirt, spread over the back of his skull, and colored his prominent ears.  He appeared to make a silent decision.  He rested his cue against the wall, came around the front of the table, and leaned against the edge.  Tucking his hands in his pockets, he smirked self-deprecatingly.  “I’ve kissed people and I’ve been groped twice.  That’s it.”

Clark went slack-jawed again.  “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“But you’re a walking invitation for sex!” Clark blurted and then blushed once more.

Lex appeared somewhat pleased, though his self-deprecating smirk remained.  “I didn’t always look like this, Clark.”  He pulled his wallet out of his pocket.

Clark was handed a worn wallet-sized picture from one of those photo booths at the mall.  A smiling brunette sat cheek-to-cheek with a round-faced, very young-looking, bald Lex.  Lex’s ears stuck out far, like soup pot handles, and Clark had to stifle his laughter.  “When was this taken?”

“Three years ago, when I was eighteen.”

Clark looked between the picture and Lex.  “Wow.  You were small.” 

“I didn’t hit my final growth spurt until I was nineteen.”  Lex smoothed his shirt over his chest and abdomen, showing the muscle underneath, proving he was no longer a small child.  “Working out regularly helped, too.”

“Still, you’re twenty-one.”  Clark couldn’t believe it.  Lex moved like liquid and had such a heady, hungry gaze that it was surprising people weren’t tearing their clothes off when he looked at them. 

“And, as I said, it’s a choice.”  Lex slid his hands into his pockets.  “I’m the same person in that picture as I am now, and if they didn’t want me then…  Let’s just say that most people are interested simply because of my looks or my money, they don’t actually want me.”

“Sort of like everyone who sees you as a Luthor instead of just Lex.”  Clark enjoyed the pleased wrinkle in the corners of Lex’s eyes because he understood.  He looked at the picture again and thought Lex’s protruding ears were sort of cute.  

“Was this your girlfriend?” Clark asked, flipping the picture over.  Written on the back were the date and the words: Amanda and the Faggot Frog.  He frowned.

“No.  Amanda was just a friend.”  Lex leaned forward and plucked the picture out of Clark’s hand.  “But you can see why I wasn’t a popular ladies’ man.”

“Why does it say that on the back?”  Clark said.

Lex glanced at the back of the picture before tucking it away.  “Someone’s poor idea of a joke.”

“It’s not a funny one.”

“No, but it’s the only picture of Amanda that I have,” Lex said.  “She was a very close friend.” 

Clark paused a moment, garnering his resolve, and then asked, “Is it true?”

“I beg your pardon?”  Lex’s face showed a flash of hurt before tightening in offense.

“Not the frog part.  You looked nothing like a frog, by the way.  Just… very young.”  Clark focused on the pool cue in his hand.  “I meant: are you gay?”

Lex didn’t answer.  Clark glanced up through the fringe of his lashes to find Lex studying him intently.  He felt his cheeks heat and was about to tell Lex to never mind, when Lex replied.

“Sort of.”

Clark lifted his head and grinned, relieved and suddenly much more relaxed.  He wasn’t alone in his attraction.  “Me, too.”

Lex’s mouth twitched, obvious in his disbelief.  “What about Lana?”

“Lana is the perfect girl.”  Clark had a hard time not sighing longingly.

Lex tucked his hands into his pockets again.  “I don’t fault you for your lofty goal, but perfect girls are usually untouchable.”

“I know, and she’s not someone I can see getting dirty.”

“And sex is supposed to be dirty,” Lex smiled wryly, “or so I’ve read.”

Clark raked his eyes over Lex slowly, from head to toe and back up again, before meeting Lex’s gaze with what he hoped was a sexy look and not a constipated one.  “I wouldn’t mind getting you dirty.”

Lex’s nostrils flared.  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.  “You don’t mean that.”

Clark closed the distance between them in three steps, set the pool cue on the billiard table, and bracketed Lex with his arms.  He heard Lex’s sharp intake of breath and could see the pulse beating rapidly at his throat.  Inches away, Clark stared directly into Lex’s wide blue eyes.  He racked his mind for something seductive to say, but being so close to Lex made his own senses fog and his thoughts scatter like milkweed on the breeze.  “You have freckles on your nose.”

Lex nodded shortly, not blinking.  “I know.”

Clark kissed him.

Lex’s mouth was hard and open, and Clark could feel the raised scar against his lips.  His fingers curled reflexively over the bumper of the billiards table.  Hot breath entered his mouth as Lex exhaled sharply and Clark pulled back, terrified and pleased all at once.

Staring at Clark, Lex licked his lips, dragging his lower lip into his mouth by his teeth and letting it roll out.  Clark’s eyes focused on the movement and he missed Lex’s hand coming up to curve around the back of his neck, but then he was kissing Lex again, so it didn’t matter.

Clark closed his eyes, parted his mouth, and gave over to the kiss.  A tongue slipped past his lips, darting in and out, coaxing him into play.  He exhaled noisily and trapped Lex against him, hands spanning between Lex’s shoulderblades and his lower back.  Lex’s fingers gripped and released Clark’s hair, his other hand grasping the side of the flannel shirt Clark wore.

Hot, wet, and messy, Clark devoured Lex and was consumed in return.  His nose bumped Lex’s, teeth scraping, tongues snaking back and forth, and in the rear of his mind he praised the French for inventing such a kiss.  Lex’s mouth tasted of alcohol and mint toothpaste, and he sucked on Clark’s tongue like Clark fantasized him sucking somewhere else.  He could feel Lex’s hard-on against his thigh –  Lex’s dick! – pressing insistently, and when he shifted, Lex bucked, and it was so good and he was so, so, sort of gay.

His lower hand plastered against Lex’s firm ass and he ground their hips together.  Lex made a sound in the back of his throat that Clark tried to capture with his tongue.  Shifting again, Clark kneed his way between Lex’s legs, pushing his erection against Lex’s abdomen while giving Lex a thigh to ride.

Lex’s hand scrambled around Clark’s back, scratching the material of his shirt.  The blunt fingernails of his other hand dug into Clark’s scalp as he canted on Clark’s quad, rubbing and writhing.  Clark squeezed and kneaded Lex’s ass, helping him along, his own dick getting bumped and rubbed with every thrust of Lex’s hips.

Lex broke the kiss – more panting in each other’s mouths now than actual kissing – and dropped his head back.  Clark opened his eyes to witness Lex in the throes of orgasm. 

Lex’s teeth dug into his lower lip, bright white against the bruised, puffy purple-red of his mouth.  Eyes squeezed shut, he clutched Clark, hips bucking erratically.  His face and scalp turned vivid red, muscles in his neck cording, nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily.  He shattered with a high-pitched noise, like a balloon whistling, lower body pressed firmly against Clark’s leg. 

Lex slumped abruptly, strings cut, and sucked in a ragged breath.  His hands clenched reflexively on Clark’s shirt and hair, as he raised his head.  Tooth marks scored his lower lip.  He blinked open his eyes, which reflected a dazed wariness, and the redness of his face and head was not just from the flush of orgasm. 

Lex was so hot.  Clark closed his eyes, dropped his forehead onto Lex’s shoulder, and humped against him.  Five thrusts and Clark shook as he exploded in climax, white heat racing from his balls out his cock, filling his shorts with jizm.  His first orgasm with another person.

“Cool,” he mumbled against Lex’s shirt, breathing harshly as he calmed.  Lex was stiff in his arms, so he turned his face and bit Lex’s neck above the collar of his shirt.

“Ow!” 

Clark snickered and licked the bite before raising his head.  Lex’s glare was offset by his pout.  Clark wondered if he knew he was even doing it.  Doing it.  Heh.  He just had, thankyouverymuch.  “We just had sex.”

“Frottage, actually, from the French word for ‘rubbing.’”  Lex pushed unsuccessfully at Clark’s chest, looking anywhere but at him, cheeks still red.  “And now, I’d like to change my clothes.”

It would be the right time for Clark to feel insecure, but Lex was doing a good enough job for the both of them.  “Don’t get weird, Lex.”

“I’m not ‘getting weird.’”

“You are,” Clark caught Lex’s wrists and forced them to lower, “and neither of us are girls.  So, I’m going to tell you flat out that I liked it, I want to do it again, often, and at some point without clothes on, but if you don’t want to, that’s fine, too.  I’ll still come over and lose spectacularly at pool.”

Lex’s eyes searched Clark’s for a long, silent moment before his shoulders loosened and one side of his mouth turned up.  “I don’t think they cover this in the Best Friends Handbook.”

Clark grinned.  “We’ll throw it out, then, and follow the Sex For Dummies book instead.”

Lex chuckled and looked down almost bashfully, if Lex Luthor was capable of bashful.  He brushed ineffectually at his trousers. “It’s terribly gauche to walk around in come-stained trousers, you know.”

“Yeah, but it was worth it,” Clark said. 

Lex glanced up, smile spreading to his light his eyes.  “Yeah, it was.”



End


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