First Aid







Clark Kent looked up quickly when he heard a hiss of pain, followed by a familiar voice cursing. "Lex?" He grabbed his discarded red t-shirt, stood, and hurried over to the edge of the loft, to see his friend standing at the bottom of the wooden steps holding his forearm, near the elbow. "Are you okay?"

"Your barn bit me," Lex Luthor said with amusement that bordered on something else. His blue shirtsleeves were rolled to the elbows, in deference to the Kansas heat. "If I thought your father would do it, I'd say he'd set a booby-trap to deter me from visiting."

Clark came down the stairs, pulling his shirt on over his bare chest. Concern marred his features as he reached Lex. "What happened?"

"Nail," Lex replied, nodding to the handrail. Clark saw the end of a carpenter's nail sticking out of the side of the rail, where the support post met the handrail. The handrail had been repaired recently after Clark damaged it in a fight with the mutant-of-the-week.

Lex moved his hand off his wound. He scowled at it, as if that would make the injury go away. "I'm going to get blood on my shirt."

"Ouch," Clark said sympathetically, eyeing the bloody gash across Lex's left forearm. "Come inside the house. I'll find some peroxide to clean it off, so it doesn't get infected."

"I'm not too worried," Lex said, starting for the barn door. "Living here in Smallville, I've had more than my share of tetanus shots already."

Clark quickly broke off the exposed nail, rubbing his thumb against the bottom of the break and smoothing it, and stuck the broken end in his pocket. He was beside Lex almost immediately. "Still, it doesn't hurt to be careful."

Clark led the way inside the house, heading directly for one of the kitchen cabinets for the first aid kit. Lex stopped by the sink, rinsed his arm while gritting his teeth, and patted it dry with the towel Clark handed him.

"Where are your parents?" Lex asked, taking a seat on one of the island counter stools. He rested his elbow on the counter and bent his arm, his hand fisted near his shoulder.

"In town," Clark answered. He opened the first aid kit, took out the hydrogen peroxide and a small packet of square gauze wipes. "Mom wanted to plant some late-blooming summer flowers in her garden, so they headed to Nell's."

Lex watched Clark with the stillness of a wary animal, as Clark poured some peroxide onto a square of gauze. The strong scent of the liquid permeated the air. "I hate that smell," Lex commented.

"Most people do." Clark bent his head, dark hair flopping in his eyes, and dabbed at the bleeding inch-long scrape across Lex's pale arm. Lex inhaled sharply between clenched teeth. Clark smirked. "Wuss."

"Completely," Lex joked, the corners of his eyes tight with pain. Clark took another swipe at the wound and Lex pursed his lips. "You know, that stuff hurts worse than the initial injury."

"Hmm." Clark bent closer to Lex's arm and blew air lightly against the peroxide-dampened skin. He heard Lex inhale sharply again and peered at him from beneath the fringe of hair, as he blew lightly a second time. Lex's eyes were wide, his mouth parted, and Clark could see the tip of his tongue clamped between his teeth. A third blow of air, and his nostrils flared as he inhaled sharply yet again.

"Feel better?" Clark asked, lips tugging up in the corners. "Bet no one's ever dared blow on Lex Luthor before."

Lex looked as though someone sucker-punched him and he straightened quickly. "No," he croaked. He cleared his throat, looking away. "No. No one's ever blown on me before."

"Hey, where are you going?" Clark dropped the gauze on the counter, grabbed the box of band-aids, and shook them at Lex. "We have to put a band-aid on it. You don't want to bleed all over your shirt, right?"

"Right. Yes. Don't want that." Lex appeared even warier than before, propping his elbow back on the counter.

Clark eyed him funnily, but didn't comment. He removed a flesh-colored band-aid from the box, bent back the tabs to expose the white pad, and squirted some anti-bacterial gel onto it. He'd done this for both his parents, and Pete on many occasions when they were younger. Holding onto the tabs, he centered the band-aid over the wound, and smoothed the band-aid into place.

"There you go," Clark said. He grinned mischievously. "Want me to kiss it, too?"

"What?" Lex gaped at him.

Clark's grin grew. He'd managed to flap the unflappable Lex. "Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?"

Lex's mouth shut and he blinked a couple times. The surprise disappeared off his face, returning to Regularly Scheduled Lex, and Clark saw that as a challenge to get him to lose his cool again.

Clark encircled Lex's wrist with his hand, holding the bent arm still, smiled winningly at Lex, dipped his head, and gently pressed his lips against the band-aid on Lex's forearm. His super-hearing picked up a nearly inaudible sound Lex made in the back of his throat, as well as the jump in his heartbeat.

Clark chuckled. "All better," he sang softly, tilting his chin up to look at Lex.

Lex had definitely lost his cool, only shock wasn't what was written across his features. It was want. Need. Desire. And something more, something deeper. He looked like Chloe did just before she and Clark had kissed for the first time.

The heartbeat he heard began to race, but Clark didn't know if it was Lex's or his own. His mouth was suddenly dry, and he licked his lips. Lex's heady gaze dropped to Clark's mouth. When Lex's eyes returned to Clark's, Clark could easily see hunger and longing reflected in them.

Every breath Clark took became difficult, painful. The air seemed syrupy. A flock of butterflies took flight in his stomach when Lex licked his own lips, and goosebumps rose on his arms. Rational thought fled Clark, replaced by the mantra: kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me. Lex somehow heard, and his head lowered as Clark lifted his chin, eyelids fluttering shut just before their mouths met.

Clark's heart jolted to a stop. Unmoving, his mouth continued to rest against Lex's. He could feel Lex's hot, erratic breath on his upper lip. Around them, the world had gone silent. Clark could only hear Lex's breathing and the racing of his heart. A tremor ran through Clark, visibly shaking his entire body. The tremor passed to Lex, Clark feeling the tremble under his hand around Lex's wrist.

Clark's heart leapt to life without warning, taking off at superhuman speed. Blood coursed through his body, his veins igniting with passion-fire, arousal spiking in an instant. Sweat broke out on his forehead and upper lip, as endless possible outcomes flitted on fast-forward through his brain. It stopped on one image in particular: Lex with sleepy eyes and a sated smile, reaching for Clark, and Clark was done for.

Lex broke away suddenly, and was across the room, breathing hard, his back turned to Clark. Clark was stunned. He stared at Lex's back with huge eyes, leaning heavily against the counter because his knees had turned to jelly. "Lex?" he said in a voice two-octaves deeper than his normal tone.

Lex cursed and hurried towards the door. Clark caught him by the arm before he'd reached the door, forcing him around. Lex was anything but cool and composed now. He appeared frightened almost, and self-disgusted. Steel-blue eyes were a swirl of emotion, panic nearest to the surface.

"Lex?" Clark repeated, putting all his questions into the name.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," Lex said in a roughened tone. "It was a mistake."

"A mistake?" Clark felt a spear of hurt pierce him. "Why?"

Surprise and confusion joined the emotions on Lex's face. "You're not going to slug me for kissing you?"

"No," Clark said, catching on to why Lex had apologized. It was understandable and would be a correct assumption if Clark hadn't liked it so much. "In fact, I wouldn't mind if you kissed me some more."

Lex stared at him, slack-jawed and completely flummoxed. Boy, Clark really did a good job at discombobulating him. He wondered what would happen if he was the one to take the initiative and kiss Lex.

Clark moved slightly faster than he should, seized Lex's face between his palms, and dove in for a kiss. Lex was stiff for a moment, and then melted against Clark, hands fisting in his red t-shirt. Clark slipped his tongue between Lex's lips, seeking and finding its mate to play with, velvety flesh sliding wetly against flesh. He delved deeper, drinking in Lex, tasting every nook and cranny of Lex's mouth, before opening to a reciprocal exploration.

Noisy and wet, he kissed and was kissed in return, until he and Lex were clinging to each other like limpets, writhing uncontrollably, bodies sweaty and tingling. Strong hands roved, clenched, scratched, and petted, so different than a girl's hands, so much better. Lust and desire coalesced into a feverish need to move in a primitive bump and grind.

Clark was hovering on the brink of completion when he heard the truck doors slam outside. This time, it was him that was across the room in an instant, panting harshly near the sink. He stared at Lex, whose very red, swollen lips, flushed features, glazed eyes, and extremely rumpled clothing showed exactly what they'd just been doing in the kitchen of the Kent home. Clark bet he didn't look any less disheveled.

His parents' voices sent panic skittering down Clark's spine. There was a rule about having girls in the house when they were gone, and while Lex wasn't a girl, it was obvious that the reasoning behind the rule had been oh so very broken.

Clark moved quickly, hustling Lex through the house and out the little used front door, barely closing it as his parents entered through the back. He slumped against the wall of the house, beside the door, shifting to adjust himself, and glanced at Lex. "That was close."

Lex nodded and scrubbed a hand over his skull. "We should talk."

"Probably," Clark conceded.

Lex attempted to smooth the wrinkles from his shirt, gave up, and leaned against the front porch rail. He abruptly yelped and jumped away from the rail. "Ouch!"

Clark saw a splinter of wood sticking out of the rail where Lex had leaned. He looked over at Lex, who was rubbing his backside and glaring at the offending splinter. A devilish smile curved Clark's lips, even as his cheeks burned at what he was about to say.

"Need me to kiss it and make it better?"





End


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