Serenity Prayer




He could do it.

He’d gotten this far, hadn’t he?  Handjobs, blowjobs, and hours upon hours of kissing.  He’d rubbed bodily against Clark until they’d come in their trousers and twice they’d been fully naked when they’d done it.  He’d only had the beginnings of one panic attack in the months they’d been together, resolved before it had really started by Clark’s flipping their positions, his weight reassuringly nothing like hers.

Lex’s fingers slipped in and out of Clark easily, watching in lust and pride as Clark rocked to meet him.  Clark knelt on the bed in front of him, head bowed, elbows denting the pillows.  The lamp on the night table made his skin glow in a golden tone, and Lex ran his free hand up the smooth skin, feeling Clark’s muscles shift beneath the surface.  He was beautiful, and he wanted Lex.

Lex could do this.

“Please, please, please,” Clark begged in a rough voice, shifting his knees wider in invitation.  “Now, Lex, please.”

“Okay.”  Lex removed his fingers and slicked his already coated, condom-covered erection with more lube, so he wouldn’t hurt Clark.  He never wanted to hurt Clark.  “Okay.”  Rising up on his knees, he aligned his cock, blew out a shoring breath, and pushed forward.

He breached the ring of muscle and froze, the tip of his shaft inside the tight hole, squeezing around him, and it was hot and squishy, that’s right, you’re such a good boy, and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe—

Lex jerked back, shoving violently away from Clark, spikes of pain piercing his lungs like sharp icicles.  He wheezed in air, but couldn’t exhale.  His chest spasming, he scrambled for the night table drawer, barely hearing Clark’s “Lex!  Lex, what’s wrong?” over the rushing in his ears and the rapid, panicked pounding of his heart.

Inside the drawer, his oft-used and well-hated inhaler waited to breathe for him.  He popped the cap with his thumb, put it to his mouth, and depressed the spray.  He tried to hold his breath, closing his tear-blurred eyes and counting to five, letting the medication take effect.  His chest spasmed again and he dosed himself once more, waiting for the nightmare to end.

He felt Clark’s hand on his back, rubbing soothing, pitying circles, and he clenched his eyelids tighter shut.  The condom stuck wetly to his thigh, his penis limp and useless.  He gripped the inhaler in his hand, lungs relaxing even as he grew tenser with self-loathing, as his panic attack eased.

“I can’t do this,” Lex gritted out, hating himself.  He’d thought that because Clark was male he’d finally get to have something normal and have sex with his significant other like people in love were supposed to do.

He opened his eyes, pitched his inhaler in the drawer, and slammed it shut.  The night table rocked with the force, knocking over the newly opened box of condoms, streamers of gold foil sailing towards the floor.  Lex shrugged off Clark’s hand and went into the bathroom, kicking the door shut behind him.  The slimy condom from his cock stuck to the wallpaper where he threw it with an angry yell, “Jesus-fucking-Christ!”

The face in the mirror mocked him as he washed his hands and groin.  He sneered at his reflection before his expression twisted into pain and misery.  Desolation was stark in his eyes. 

A short knock preceded Clark opening the door and coming into the master bathroom without invitation.  Concern marred his handsome features, and he held out a white robe, similar to the one tied around his waist.  “Are you all right?”

“What do you think, Clark?”  Lex grabbed the robe and pulled it on.  He cinched the belt tightly.  He wouldn’t be getting naked with Clark again anytime soon.

“I, uh, didn’t think you still had asthma,” Clark said, looking way too young suddenly.  His mussed hair fell over his eyes and flipped out around his ears.  His shoulders were hunched, as if he were trying to make himself smaller.

“Not from allergies,” Lex said, sliding his hand roughly over his scalp.  He answered the next question before Clark asked.  “I had a panic attack.”

Clark’s features screwed up in confusion.  “Panic attack?  Like, you were afraid?  Of what?”

“Nothing, Clark.  Just drop it.”  Lex went to leave the bathroom, but Clark blocked the door.  In fact, it looked like he planned to dig in his heels. 

“What were you afraid of?” Clark said.  “It’s not the age thing again, is it?  I thought we’d settled that.”

“Your age is a big deal,” Lex latched on to the excuse.  “You’re only fifteen.”

Clark dismissed him.  “Like you weren’t younger than me when you started having sex.”

Lex flinched, his chest growing tight once more.  Come here, sweetheart, Mommy wants to hold you. 

“Lex?”

Clark looked at him with concern again.  “I wish I hadn’t been,” Lex said, and firmly pushed him away from the door, so he could leave.  He detoured by the night table, fearing and hating that he’d have another attack, and pocketed his inhaler.  He’d need to refill his prescription soon.  The panic-inducing nightmares had been constant since Clark inferred that he’d wanted to take their relationship to the next level.  It should’ve served as a sign that Lex couldn’t do it.

Down the hall, in the comfortable entertainment room he’d created specifically with Clark in mind, Lex lit a fire and poured himself a drink.  He downed the first one quickly, alcohol burning his gullet, and then refilled the glass.  He swirled the amber-colored alcohol and scrutinized the play of light reflected in the liquid from the hurricane lamp on the end table.  He wasn’t supposed to drink after having an asthma attack.  He took a large swallow from the glass.  Clark came into the room, quiet and hesitant, and sat in the middle of the leather couch across from the cinematic television.

Lex wandered over and sat in the corner of the couch.  He turned on the television, flipped the channels until he found a war movie, and set the remote on the end table.  He watched without seeing anything, sipping his drink and mentally flagellating himself.

After ten tense, silent minutes, Clark shifted closer and laid his hand on Lex’s thigh.  Lex jerked, yanking his leg away.  His drink sloshed over the rim of the glass, splashing his hand.

“Fuck,” Lex swore, setting aside the glass.  He cleaned his hand with a wipe from the end table drawer, normally reserved for cleaning up other messes.  He tossed the wipe in the trash.

Clark had retreated to the far end of the couch, sitting stiffly, his posture closed off.  Lex cursed himself.  He was not going to let his weaknesses and self-loathing affect his relationship with Clark.  It had taken far longer than he’d liked to accept Clark’s touch without his stomach revolting in the first place.  He refused to backslide.

Switching off the hurricane lamp, he crawled across the couch and bodily moved Clark into the position he wanted.  Thankfully, Clark allowed himself to be repositioned without comment.  Hurt and confusion creased his features, illuminated by the flickering from the television screen.

Lex settled between Clark’s parted thighs, back to Clark’s chest, legs outstretched.  Clark’s right leg ran along the back of the couch, his other foot on the carpeted floor.  Lex tugged Clark’s hand until he was embracing Lex.  Clark slid his other arm around Lex’s waist, entwined their fingers, and rested their hands against Lex’s belly.  Lex sat low enough so that he could fit beneath Clark’s chin.  Head turned facing the television, he listened to Clark’s heartbeat beneath his ear, pressed to Clark’s chest between the gape in the robe’s lapel.

Lex inhaled and exhaled slowly with the soft brush of lips across his scalp.  He relaxed against Clark, soaking in the warmth of his significant other’s body and the glow of the fire.  Orange-red flames danced in the fireplace, crackling quietly.  War played mutedly on the television in black and white, soldiers struggling with their psyches in the face of adversity.

Clark loosed a hand and ran his fingers up along the lapel of Lex’s robe.  The roughened pads of his fingertips dipped beneath the material on the way down, brushing Lex’s bare chest.  Lex didn’t flinch and Clark’s hand slid further beneath the robe.  The familiar touch stirred Lex’s loins.  Clark’s fingertips traced each of Lex’s ribs on the right side, counting upward until he skimmed over Lex’s nipple.

Lex made a soft sound of desire in the back of his throat, his thoughts dimming in an upsurge of lust.  Clark’s fingertips returned, circling Lex’s nipple, arousing it.  He caught the puckered flesh between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and rolling and making Lex squirm.  Lex moaned uncontrollably, electricity shooting from his nipple to his cock and back again.  His erection grew, the material of the robe tickling the sensitive cockhead.

Clark freed his other hand and parted Lex’s robe only over his groin.  Lex’s shaft rose from between the white folds of material, flushed and rigid.  Clark’s breath was hot against Lex’s bare head as he exhaled heavily through his mouth.  Lex shifted his hips, seeking Clark’s touch, and he felt Clark’s hard-on grow solid against the upper curve of his ass.

Lust and intimacy made the air thick, cocooning them on the sofa.  Lex bit his lower lip, holding back another moan, as Clark’s left hand joined the first beneath the robe.  Wrists crisscrossing over Lex’s chest, Clark started playing with Lex’s other nipple.  He plucked and twisted both protrusions simultaneously.  Lex’s stomach muscles quivered at the sensation.  Arousal shot higher and he gripped Clark’s thighs.  “Clark…”

“Shh.”  Clark kissed Lex’s scalp, tongue briefly touching the bare skin.  Lex could feel Clark’s hungry eyes focused on his exposed cock and it jumped.  Pre-come shone on the rounded tip, glinting in the television’s light.

Lex twisted his upper body, lifted his chin, and kissed Clark.  The strained position did not deter Lex and he slid his tongue between Clark’s lips, tasting and taking what he wanted.  Clark groaned into Lex’s mouth, dipping his head to deepen the kiss.

Clark stopped tormenting Lex’s nipples, ran his hands downward, and opened Lex’s robe.  Lex rose and turned around, still kissing Clark ravenously.  Finesse gave way to passion.  He loomed over Clark, robe discarded completely, his hands braced against the arm of the couch.  Clark’s large palms skimmed Lex’s flanks, slid around his back, and down to run over his ass, caressing his skin.  Clark’s fingertips dipped in the crevice and Lex thrust forward and back, rocking on his knees.  He kissed Clark harder, losing himself in the duel of their tongues, until he felt the confining roll of a condom over his erection.

Lex broke the kiss, breathing heavily through his swollen mouth.  He met Clark’s hot, lustful gaze and his stomach clenched reflexively at the feel of cool gel coating the outside of the rubber.  He stroked into Clark’s fist, pleasure sparking brightly at the base of his spine.  His heart beat double-time against his breast.

Doubt and fear crept over Lex’s mind and he forcibly ignored them with a nod to Clark. Shifting back on his heels, he waited as Clark scooted down, robe bunching beneath him, until he lay on the couch cushions.  He unbelted the robe, parted the material, and lifted his legs.  Lex licked his suddenly dry lips at the long, naked length of Clark’s body and stared at the winking pucker shining with lubricant from before, waiting for him to breach it.

He could do this.

He pressed the blunt head of his cock to the wrinkled hole and leaned over Clark.  Holding Clark’s gaze, he pushed forward and in.

Clark opened readily for him and Lex slid deep inside.  Lex caught his breath, mentally fighting the panicked tightening of his chest.  Clark’s body fitted hot and snuggly around Lex’s cock.  Pleasure battled with underlying anxiety and Lex’s arms shook with the strain.

Tentatively, keeping focused on Clark’s face, Lex drew back his hips and thrust.  Clark rolled his head and moaned loudly, light from the television flickering across his features.  Lex tried thrusting again, and again, and succeeded in setting up a rhythm, repeating a mantra in his head with every stroke: This is Clark, this is Clark, this is Clark.

He faltered when Clark hooked his ankles behind Lex’s back.  Good boy.  Lex shoved the memory away, thrusting harder with an adult’s strength and power.  She was not here.  He dug his fingers into the leather cushions on either side of Clark and chanted Clark’s name out loud in defiance.  “Clark-Clark-Clark-Clark-Clark-Clark-Clark—”

“Oh god, Lex.”  Clark wrapped his hand around Lex’s neck, arching up, and pulled Lex into a kiss.  Clark thrust his tongue into Lex’s mouth and—

—he could still feel her unmoving tongue in his mouth and the hot gush of piss, thinking if he made her orgasm like a good boy, she wouldn’t be dead anymore.

Lex’s lungs seized and he chomped down on Clark’s tongue.  Pain erupted in his mouth and white spots exploded behind his eyes.  Mindless panic took control of him when he couldn’t break free from Clark’s hold.  He keened like a banshee.

Clark let him go instantly.  Lex flung himself backwards, tumbled off the couch, and cracked his head against the carpeted floor.  He wheezed with a high-pitched whistle and clawed at his throat.  His chest felt like it was in a vice.

Eyes rolling wildly, his hand shot back and forth over the floor in a desperate search for his robe.  Blackness stole over his vision.  He needed his inhaler.  He needed air.

Clark’s large palm cradled the back of his head and the plastic mouthpiece of the inhaler was pressed between his lips.  Lex latched onto it and depressed the pump.  He counted and repeated the action.  By the fourth dosage, anger had replaced his panic, and when he could breathe again, he shoved himself upright, grabbed his flagging cock, and stroked it purposefully.

“Get on your hands and knees,” Lex rasped, throat raw from the attack.

Clark appeared worried and a little afraid.  “Lex, I don’t think we should.”

Now.  Lex was not going to let his past control him.  Clark was not going to die while they were having sex.  And while he loved his mother, too, what she’d done with him was wrong and he’d accepted that his past was irrevocably screwed up.  But with Clark, it was right, and though technically he wasn’t a virgin, Clark would be the first person he chose to have intercourse with and he’d be damned if he’d allow anything to take that away from him.

He would do this.

Clark must’ve seen the resolution in his eyes; he shed his robe completely and positioned himself in front of Lex.  More importantly, he did not question, and Lex was grateful for that.  The dimpled curve of Clark’s ass invited a bite, but Lex’s teeth still ached.  Instead, he popped his inhaler between his lips, knelt behind Clark, and slid home.

Lex took a puff on his inhaler and then pulled Clark up and back until he was seated on Lex’s lap.  He clutched Clark tightly a moment, resting his forehead on Clark’s shoulder as Clark’s body adjusted around him.  When he was sure he wouldn’t panic, he let the inhaler fall from between his lips and whispered hoarsely, “I love you, Clark.”

Clark stretched and awkwardly embraced him backwards.  “I love you, too.”

Lex blew out a slow, controlled breath and started moving with short thrusts, barely leaving Clark’s body before sliding back in.  The inhaler was trapped between their bodies, digging into Lex’s skin.  He let the bite of the plastic keep him grounded, as he rocked into Clark.  Clark’s head dropped forward and he exhaled nosily with gratification.

Clark began rocking with him, rising up and down with his powerful thighs.  Lex’s forehead rubbed against Clark’s shoulder, almost unpleasantly, but he didn’t move away.  Lex’s clasp of Clark kept the memories of his mom enough at bay that he started to enjoy himself.

His orgasm built slowly.  The light and dim voices from the television and the crackling fire surrounded them with intimacy.  Clark held him with one arm stretched back, his other hand stroking at his groin.  Heat crept up Lex’s spine and spread throughout his body.  He shuddered as he came, breath seizing for an entirely different reason.  Waves of pleasure washed through him and he clutched Clark closer.  He pulsed inside Clark’s body, lashes fluttering as his mind whited-out.

Spent, he panted quietly, eyes closed, leaning against Clark.  Clark moved against him still, bringing himself to completion.  Lex picked up his inhaler and took a puff when Clark climaxed, internal muscles tightening around Lex’s softening cock.  They sat unmoving in the close embrace for a comfortable, silent minute before Clark lifted off Lex.

Lex busied himself discarding the filled condom, feeling Clark studying him.  When he finally met Clark’s gaze, Clark’s expression was a mixture of nervousness and concern, not at all looking like someone who’d had great sex.

“Are you going to tell me?” Clark asked quietly.

Lex looked away, focusing on the fire in the fireplace.  “In Greek mythology, Hephaestus was the son of Hera, born from her womb without conception, in retaliation for Zeus birthing Athena from his own head.  Hephaestus was principally the divine artisan, misshapen and sometimes explicitly chthonic.  However, many aspects of Hephaestus’ role go back to the earlier Daktyloi, the phallic child-consorts of the great mother Rhea.”

“Lex—” 

Lex shook his head.  “My life hasn’t been as idyllic as yours, Clark, that’s all you need to know.”

Clark’s brow was lined with thought, as Lex glanced over at him.  Lex could see the pieces clicking into place in Clark’s mind, and while he might not know the exact truth, the pitying expression Lex hated showed he got the gist.  “You’ve been hurt.”

“Not by you,” Lex said simply.  He opened his arms in invitation.  “Come here.”

Clark crawled across the carpet into Lex’s arms.  He nuzzled Lex’s throat, kissed it softly, and sighed.  “Did you at least enjoy yourself?”

“Yes,” Lex murmured, and realized it was the truth.  He knew now what making love was really all about and, some day, he wouldn’t need his inhaler any more.  He closed his eyes and nosed Clark’s baby-soft hair.

He had done it.



End

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
Courage to change the things I can;
And wisdom to know the difference.

Reinhold Neibuhr-1926


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