Angel's Kiss








All of his life, his mother had called him an angel. She said he'd fallen from heaven in answer to her prayers for a child. Every night, she would smooth back his hair, kiss him on the forehead, and say, "Goodnight, angel."

Clark Kent had grown up believing it to be true, that he was an angel. For a long time, it explained why he was never sick or got hurt, why he was faster and stronger than everyone, and why he looked different. Until just recently, it was the reason why his parents insisted on keeping his specialness a secret and why he wasn't allowed to do much with the other kids.

It didn't really bother Clark that he was different. It was a challenge to do everything, especially in Phys. Ed., but he figured out how to participate, change, and shower without exposing his secrets. The end of seventh grade, though, was difficult. During the last two weeks of school, his Health class had separated the boys and girls and sex education had been taught. The boys all received a pamphlet titled "My Body and Me," and it detailed puberty, sexual arousal, and intercourse. Clark had not understood any of it; not the jokes about 'woodies' or 'spanking the monkey', not what sexual attraction felt like, and not what it was like to have human male genitalia. He was an angel, after all, and didn't learn the truth until just recently.

Clark remembered he'd talked to his father about the class, and Jonathan had told him that all puberty meant was physically changing from a child to a man. Clark had decided that he wanted to go through puberty right away to hide the fact that he was different, and that summer between seventh and eighth grade, he grew 14-inches taller, put on layers of muscle, and his voice dropped two octaves.

Everyone had stared at him when he started eighth grade, which was the opposite of what he'd wanted. The only person he saw regularly over the summer was Pete Ross, so many of the other kids didn't know Clark had gone through puberty. Chloe Sullivan had transferred to the junior high that year, becoming fast friends with him and Pete, and she didn't care that he towered over everyone, including most of the teachers. His classmates made fun of him because of how clumsy he'd become. His body had grown to 6'-3", but his mind was still thinking that he was a 5'-1" skinny runt.

That year, other things had changed besides Clark's size and voice. As if he wasn't enough of a freak already, he began wanting to touch certain people all of the time. Not everyone, just a select few, who made his hands itch to reach out and caress, and in different ways. With Chloe and Pete, Clark wanted to put an arm around their shoulders or hold their hands. With his neighbor, Lana Lang, he wanted to stroke her hair and her skin with his hands and taste her with his lips. He wanted to hold her in his arms and protect her from the world.

He wanted to touch Lana's boyfriend, Whitney, too, in a way that would leave bruises and scars. He wanted to claw, kick, and bite Whitney. He wanted to scratch and hit and break bones. It was frightening, and when Clark told his parents about these differing desires to touch people, he was made to promise that he wouldn't touch anyone at all, other than to help.

Clark was about to break that promise.

Lex Luthor shivered on the wet, glass-strewn couch in the closed club. His face was ghastly pale. His eyes were swollen and red. Sweat coated his skin, giving him an eerie sheen that glowed in the blue and orange halogen lights.

Clark worked the buckles of the straightjacket holding Lex captive. The desire to touch Lex had surpassed the normal levels of friendship into insurmountable need. It was a different kind of yearning than any he'd felt before, and it was coupled with the hunger to have Lex touch him too, which was a first. Not even Lana had invoked that desire for reciprocation. Clark wanted to kiss and be kissed by Lex like a human. Clark also wanted to kiss him like an alien would, and the teen subconsciously knew how.

"Stay still," Clark instructed Lex after removing the straightjacket. The teen jogged upstairs and tied up Lex's assailant. It was the Talon's contractor, which caused questions to spring to Clark's mind. But explanations weren't important at the moment.

"I thought I told you to stay still." Clark lightly pushed Lex back onto the couch as he struggled to stand.

"Need to get out of here," Lex rasped. He tried to stand again, one arm wrapped around his waist, but Clark stopped him. "Have to call the police."

"In a minute," Clark said. He knelt in front of Lex and, ignoring his parents' voices in the back of his mind, gave into the need to touch.

Gently, Clark brushed his fingers over Lex's face and scalp, wiping away the sweat and fear. Lex flinched at first, but soon relaxed and closed his eyes.

Clark's lips followed the paths of his fingertips, his hands cupping both sides of Lex's jaw. He pressed light kisses against Lex's bare scalp. Against his temple and softly across his eyes to his other temple. Soothing over each cheek and peppering down his nose. Sliding across his lips once, twice, and lingering.

"Let's get you outside," Clark whispered finally, ending the caress as gently as he began. Lex gave a slight nod, and Clark helped him to his feet and out the open door into the daylight.

*****

Clark knew the moment he walked in that Lex was at the Talon's Grand Opening. Logic would dictate that the owner would be present, but Clark actually felt Luthor's presence. There was a twinge at the base of his spine, as if he had a tail and it was wagging. The feeling was new and wholly bizarre, but Clark instinctively understood what it meant.

The raven-haired teen pasted a smile on his face, even as he silently cursed. He had been avoiding Lex since the rescue, because Clark knew he wouldn't be able to refrain from touching the other man again. Something had started that day, which had moved them to a different level of their friendship, and Clark hadn't been ready to admit it. Clark also could hear his parents in his mind, telling him to leave, to keep away from Lex Luthor.

Clark walked purposely forward and further into the Talon. He could control himself. He would be the angel he once thought he was, and not let the bald devil in violet seduce him, even unintentionally.

"I get the feeling you're avoiding me, Clark."

Clark's invisible tail started wagging wildly at Lex's voice, and he knew he was toast. It was already too late to run after Lana and beg her not to leave his side. His skin tightened and tingled, his veins pulsed and throbbed. His scope of vision narrowed until he could only see Lex.

Lex wore a full suit and tie, with a purple shirt of course, and the air of a businessman. At the moment, he was not acting as Clark's friend, which made it easier for Clark to tell a half-truth. "I just realized there's a lot I don't know about you."

"You think my dark past is going to rub off on you?" Lex said.

Clark didn't believe that, but his parents certainly did. He shifted on his feet, looking away. Lex hurriedly explained why the events happened as they did, and Clark understood, but... "Is it the truth?"

"The truth is, I'd do anything to protect my friends." The mask of business dropped from Lex's face as he said it, revealing an intense passion about what he'd said.

Clark's control unraveled instantly, and he smiled as he let go of his humanity. A wash of confidence and self-assurance swelled over him, both of which were definitely alien feelings in the life of Clark Kent. He felt the distance he'd purposely created between him and Lex evaporate like water in the summer sun. "Am I your friend still?"

"Yes," Lex answered directly. His lips curved up in self-deprecation. "Whether you want to be friends with me in return, or not."

Clark reached out and brushed his fingertips down the side of Lex's face, from temple to jaw. "I don't want to be your friend," he said huskily. He lowered his hand and held it open between them, palm up in invitation. "I want more."

Lex sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth. His eyes roved over Clark's face, looking for a hidden joke, finding none. "Clark, are you...," he trailed off and searched Clark's steady gaze.

His hand trembled as he put it in Clark's, and he swallowed audibly when Clark's fingers enclosed his palm.

Clark led the way to the back of the Talon and up the stairs to the converted projection booths. He chose one of the new offices at random and locked the door behind them. The illumination coming through the projection window was more than enough to see by, and Clark refrained from switching on the overhead light.

Lex leaned with deceptive casualness against the metal desk in the center of the small room. Clark could tell how nervous Lex was, though, by how still he held himself. A relaxed, confident Lex was always moving or doing something with his hands.

Clark didn't speak as he crossed to Lex and stopped directly in front of him. Lex's eyes seemed larger than normal as he met Clark's gaze.

Their first kiss was human, a mimic of what Clark had seen on television, at the movies, and in the halls at school. It was a clumsy kiss, only the second Clark had participated in. When Lex took control, Clark was happy to let him, and the teen learned quickly why humans enjoyed kissing.

Clark started to need something more, though, and he smoothed his hands over Lex's scalp to the fascinating knot at the back of his skull. Clark fondled that spot for a bit, before sliding his hands down to Lex's shoulders. He tried to remove the other man's suit coat, but Lex's hands were snared in Clark's tresses, preventing him.

Clark broke the kiss and made his intentions known. Lex started to say something, but Clark nipped at his lips as he stared hard into Lex's eyes. The bald man lowered his arms, and Clark was quick to divest him of his suit coat, tie, shirt and undershirt. When Clark started on Lex's belt buckle, he again began to protest. Clark growled deep in his throat. Lex stilled completely, and soon he was totally nude.

Clark stepped back and drank in the sight of Lex naked. His eyes caressed pale, smooth skin stretched taut over lean muscle. He focused on where they were most different and frowned at how weird it looked compared to pictures of sculptures he'd seen.

He reached out and touched, and the surprisingly hot length jumped in his hand, as Lex exhaled noisily. Clark glanced up and found Lex watching him intently. He leaned forward and nipped at the other man's nose before returning his attention to the hardness in his hand. He squeezed experimentally, it jumped again, and Lex made an interesting noise. It sounded vaguely like "I'm going to jail," if said by Elmer Fudd after sucking on helium.

Their second kiss was alien, from an instinct that Clark didn't question. He lowered his head, pressed parted lips to the hollow of Lex's throat, and flickered his tongue against the soft sensitive skin.

Lex grabbed Clark's hair, practically ripping out tufts, and another strange sound fell from his mouth. He lifted his chin, giving Clark more access to his throat. He thrust his hips forward and back, his flesh sliding rapidly in Clark's closed hand. He bucked hard, sobbed what was possibly Clark's name, and Clark's hand became wet.

Clark pulled away from Lex and looked down. A clearish-white slimy substance decorated his navy blazer. There was also some on his Dockers, besides his hand. "Lex?" he questioned with confusion. He lifted his eyes and had the amused pleasure to watch a red blush spread over Lex's pale skin.

"Sorry," Lex said, looking anywhere but at Clark. "I was taken by surprise. I'm usually not that..." He coughed uncomfortably.

"But you're okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?" Clark fretted. He wished he'd been more of a bad boy. The 'R'-Rated movies he'd seen hadn't prepared him for human male genitalia. He sort of understood how humans had sex, but since he didn't feel the same arousal or urges they did, he had no clue what to expect.

Lex muttered something that again sounded like, "I'm going to jail forever." He laid his hands on Clark's shoulders. "You didn't hurt me, Clark. Quite the opposite, in fact, as you can see by my staining your clothes."

"Okay. Good." The fear that Clark had hurt Lex or screwed up vanished, but the confidence that he'd had before disappeared as well. He removed his hands from Lex's body and shoved them in the pockets of his blazer.

Lex laughed almost sadly, leaned forward, and touched his lips to Clark's. Their third kiss was brief, a soft meeting in the most chaste manner. Clark's invisible tail wagged in lazy contentment.

"Do you want me to...?" Lex said, leaning back against the desk. He gestured generally towards Clark's crotch.

Clark looked down at himself. "Do I want you to what?" He brushed at the dried spots on his clothes.

"Eight years minimum," Lex mumbled before saying bluntly, "Do you want me to jack you off, or did you come already?"

"Uh..." Clark got a clue, having heard before what 'jacking off' meant. He had to decide, right now, what to tell Lex. He could already feel the desire to touch building beneath his skin again, and he definitely wanted Lex to touch him in return.

Clark blew out a quick breath, rubbed his neck with his non-tacky hand, and hid the truth within the truth. "I don't have a... um... penis."

Lex pursed his lips and nodded, as if he heard this information everyday. "I see. May I ask why not?"

"You know why you have no hair? Same reason."

That caused Lex to react. "Oh my god, Clark." He stepped forward, his hand fluttering as if he didn't know where to put them. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Clark captured Lex's hands, brought one to his mouth, and bit lightly on the knuckles.

"Well, for one thing, you don't have a penis!"

"I don't remember ever having one to begin with--" which was the truth, "--so it doesn't bother me."

Lex looked stunned. "Do you have anything? Testicles? A scar?"

"No." Clark released Lex's hands. He unfastened his belt and Dockers, and pushed them and his underwear to his ankles. "Mom used to call me an angel. For the longest time I thought it was true, because angels are sexless and so am I."

He was smooth between his legs, like a plastic doll. No hair, no marks, just skin. Most of his body was hairless and smooth, sort of like Lex's, except Lex had copper curls surrounding his manhood.

"May I?" Lex asked quietly, reaching out.

Clark nodded, then moaned when Lex's warm hand slid over his bare skin.

Lex jerked away. "Did I hurt you?"

Clark burst out laughing. "Isn't that my line?"

Lex smiled faintly. "I guess it is."

"You didn't hurt me, Lex," Clark assured him, taking his hand and placing it against the smooth skin. "It felt really good."

Lex looked fascinated as he slowly ran his palm over Clark. Clark moaned again, a deep rumbling sound in his chest. Lex's mouth twitched in a genuine smile and his second hand joined the first in exploring Clark's body.

He unbuttoned Clark's blue shirt and slid it and his blazer off his shoulders. Lex caressed the supple skin exposed, running his fingertips over the curves of muscle and ridges of bone. Lightly, his fingers danced along Clark's collarbone and dipped in the hollow of Clark's throat. Clark's knees buckled.

He grabbed hold of Lex's shoulders to keep from falling. He blinked several times, breathing quickly. "Woah."

Lex glanced curiously at him. Clark swallowed twice and whispered, "Will you kiss me there?"

"Here?" Lex touched Clark again. Clark shuddered and nodded wildly.

Lex licked his lips, slid his arms around Clark's waist, and pressed his mouth to the hollow of Clark's throat. Clark let out a raw cry when Lex's tongue darted out to taste. Lex took this as a sign to do it again, with faster little licks, and Clark's brain exploded. It felt as if he'd run full-speed headlong into a tree, an experience he had thought he didn't want to repeat. He was wrong.

Lex stopped, and Clark sagged heavily against him. The teen's breathing was ragged and he was trembling all over.

Lex giggled in a decidedly unmanly fashion.

Clark shook the flowbees from his mind and peered down at his friend. Lex grinned goofily in return. "Nature compensates. Darwin's theory," he said. He rose slightly, brushed his lips against Clark's, and hummed thoughtfully. "Does this mean that you're not going to avoid me anymore?"

"No," Clark sighed, sliding a hand from Lex's shoulder to the back of his skull, to stroke the knot of bone. "This means it's going to be doubly hard to avoid you. My parents--"

"--Hate me," Lex finished, pulling away.

"No, they don't--"

"Clark, I destroyed your farm." Lex started to redress.

"Amanda's brother did that, not you," Clark protested. He almost fell over when he went to move, his trousers still around his ankles. Quickly, he yanked them up and fastened the button.

"In your parents' eyes, that doesn't seem to matter," Lex said. He cursed as he shoved the tails of his dress shirt into his trousers. "Damn it, that bastard knew just how to hurt me the most. It makes me wonder how many other people would go after your family to get to me. Maybe avoiding me is the best plan, after all."

"Lex--," Clark began, only to be cut off again.

"Don't, Clark. Just don't." Lex put on his suit coat, stuffed his tie in the pocket, and jammed his feet into his shoes. "The sooner I learn that I'm not allowed to care about anyone, the better off I'll be."

Clark stood unmoving as Lex left the room. Inside Clark's mind, however, a war was raging: Good Son versus Best Friend. He didn't want to have to choose between his parents and Lex. No matter which way he looked at it, though, there seemed to be no resolution where everyone was happy. It was unfair, and a decision he shouldn't be made to make.

The alien part of Clark Kent decided for him.

The need to touch Lex again exploded in Clark's chest, causing him to stagger. His veins pounded like the beat of a drum, throughout his body. His hands and lips tingled almost painfully.

Practically shaking, Clark redressed at an inhuman speed and went after Lex. When he got downstairs, his invisible tail started wagging, indicating Lex was still at the Talon. The Grand Opening party was still in full swing, and Clark received curious stares as he threaded through the crowd with nearly rude jostling.

He found Lex at the counter where the temporary bar had been set up. Lex's businessman's mask was back in place as perfectly as his re-knotted tie. The only indication that something was amiss was the slight sloshing of the liquor in his glass.

Without warning, Clark grabbed Lex by the scruff of the neck and forced him around. Alcohol splashed out of the class and onto the teen's clothes. Vivid blue-grey eyes filled with fear and anger at being manhandled bored into Clark. "Clark--"

Clark growled deep in his chest, more of a low vibration than a sound. With his free hand, he pushed down the collar of Lex's shirt to stroke the hollow of his throat. Leaning in closer to Lex, Clark hissed, "Yrautcnas."

The word came from Clark's subconscious. He knew instinctively that it was his native language and what it basically translated to in human. My own, my only.

Flashes of people he'd never seen before went through his mind. One touching another as he was touching Lex. That word again. Yrautcnas. Clark's biological parents?

Clark tucked away the images for later examination and forced his tongue to speak English again. "We will figure this out, Lex. I will not give you up."

"Clark, Lex, is there a problem?" Lana's worried voice caused Clark to remember where they were. He released Lex and turned to her.

"Yes, actually, there is," Clark said. He plucked the glass from Lex's hand and gave it to her. "I need Lex. Can you manage here on your own?"

"Clark, I don't--," Lex began, but Clark cut him off.

"Yes, you do." Clark addressed Lana. "So, are you okay here?"

"I guess," Lana said tentatively, looking between Clark and Lex with consternation.

"Good." Clark snagged Lex's hand. "Bye."

Lex protested quietly at first, then with more volume once they were outside. "Clark, stop!"

"No." Clark dragged Lex to the Ferrari parked across the street.

"Clark!" Lex snapped hotly. He yanked his hand free. "What the hell is going on?"

"I like you, all right!" Clark rounded on the bald man. "You're my best friend. Yrautcnas. I won't allow my parents, the situation, or even you, to stop me from having you in my life."

"Funny, that's not what you said upstairs," Lex said.

"I changed my mind." Clark stepped closer to Lex and looked imploringly from beneath his lashes. "You mean a lot to me, Lex. I want to be with you, even if I couldn't touch you. I'm not saying it's going to be easy. My parents are not your biggest fans at the moment."

Lex snorted. "Tell me something I don't know." He sighed, smoothed his tie, and buttoned his suit coat. "You're only 15, Clark. I could get in serious trouble."

Clark hooked a finger beneath Lex's collar and lightly scratched the hollow of his throat. "Yrauntcas," Clark whispered tenderly.

"That's the third time you've called me 'yee-rawnt-cas,'" Lex said. "What language is that?"

Clark grinned mischievously. "It's the language of the angels."

"Oh, really?" Lex said humoringly. "What does it mean?"

Clark's smile softened. "It means: 'my only.'"

Lex blinked in surprise. Then, a slow blush pinked his cheeks and a corner of his mouth curved up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Clark said as he lowered his mouth to Lex's.

Their fourth kiss was angelic, short, sweet, and simply heavenly.





End



Send Feedback