Spreadsheets and Biotoxins
Dedication: Merry Christmas, Bethy and Jenn! <hugs>
Notes: Probably one of the oddest names for a PWP ever, but the story is
odd, so it fits somehow.
|| This *cannot* be happening. ||
Lex turned away from the window and walked back to his desk. He sat down in the leather chair and stared at the laptop screen, trying to force the numbers to swim back into focus. They defiantly refused to comply.
"This can't be happening." Maybe if he said it aloud, the universe would return to its correct order and all would be well.
It didn't work, of course. The universe apparently had other plans. All was *not* well.
In particular, Lex was not well.
Glaring at the computer as if it were responsible for his current predicament, Lex growled, "I *do* *not* get sick."
Rubbed his forehead and felt the sticky heat of it, which just pissed him off more. Lex reached into his pocket for a linen handkerchief and wiped it across his brow with vicious impatience. Dropped the cloth on his desk and took a sip water before turning bleary eyes back to the screen in front of him.
"Hey, Lex. I just dropped off your produce in the kitchens. Thought I'd stop in and say hi while I was here."
A far too energetic voice, and Lex found himself resentful of it rather than having his usual reaction. "Hi, Clark." || Please go away so I can suffer in peace.||
Not heading the unspoken plea, Clark's brow furrowed as he stepped closer to the desk. "Is something wrong, Lex? You seem-"
"Just a little preoccupied," Lex interrupted with a voice that he hoped sounded nonchalant. It was hard to tell with the popping in his ears. Damned sinuses were making him feel like he was going through endless cycles of airplane landings. "I'm trying to make sense of the numbers in this cost analysis spreadsheet, but they're not adding up right." It would probably help if the columns of figures weren't doing the Hamster Dance in front of his eyes.
Clark crossed over to the side of Lex's desk. "Is this top secret information? 'Cause if it's not, I can take a look at it for you." A slight blush. "I'm... uh... good with numbers."
Actually, the figures *were* confidential LuthorCorp information until the quarterly report was made public. However, Lex doubted that Clark would use the information to go on a day-trading spree, and he needed to get a coherent grasp on the data.
Lex shifted his desk chair to the side and gestured to the screen, "By all means, have a look. I'm nowhere close to finding the problem on my own."
Clark grinned and moved next to him, crouching down to look at the display. Lex stared at Clark's profile as his eyes flew across the screen. Reaching for the mouse, Clark's hand covered Lex's, which still rested on top of it.
Even as Lex was assimilating the sensation of those long fingers closing over his, Clark yanked his hand away and turned wide eyes to meet Lex's.
"Lex, you're...hot."
|| Thank you for noticing, Clark. Been thinking the same thing about you for quite a while now. || Before Lex could speak, Clark's hand was suddenly coming to rest against the side of his neck. Well, this was getting better by the second.
"And I think your glands are swollen. Lex... are you sick?"
|| Yes, apparently in the head, since I thought you were coming on to me. || "It's nothing. I'm not sick. I never get sick."
"Well, it looks like the impossible has occurred, because you're running a fever and you've got swollen lymph nodes. You *are* sick, Lex. And you should be resting, not working."
Lex shook his head and tried to shove his way back in front of the computer terminal, but Clark refused to budge. Sighed with irritated impatience. "Regardless of my health or lack thereof, these numbers have to be crunched before three PM today. I can't afford the time to rest."
Clark gave him a stubborn glare. "You can't afford not to. If you don't get sick often, this is probably serious. I can take care of these numbers. You get in bed, now."
Clark ordering him to bed had appeared in Lex's fantasy life, but he'd never dreamed of it in relation to disease. "This is my responsibility, Clark. You can't be expected to understand or-"
Clark's eyes glinted as he grabbed Lex by the wrists and pulled him out of the leather desk chair. "Lex, let me help. If you won't go to bed, will you at least take a nap on the couch? I swear that I'll wake you if I can't figure something out on my own."
Arguing with a stubborn farmboy was clearly taking more energy than he could afford to expend. This was made obvious by the fact that Lex teetered unsteadily once he was on his feet, and Clark had to steady him, wearing an I-told-you-so look on his face.
Lex rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'll take a short nap, but I'm *not* sick."
Clark led him to the sofa and waited as he kicked off his shoes and laid back on the cushions. "Whatever you say, Lex. Just sleep," he replied with the voice of someone humoring a recalcitrant child.
Lex didn't bother calling Clark on his annoying behavior. Comforted by the overstuffed couch below him and the hand-knitted throw Clark had spread over top of him, Lex suddenly perceived the benefits of a nap too clearly to be argumentative. He curled up under the rapidly warming blanket, silently assuring himself that fifteen minutes of sleep wouldn't hurt anything.
The first thing Lex noticed as he stirred from unconsciousness was probably what had woken him -- feeling Clark Kent's lips on his forehead.
Lex tried to stay completely still, tried to not even allow the rhythm of his breathing to change. Nothing that could break the moment, because he'd realized that this had to be one of those so-deeply-unconscious-it-seems-real dreams.
Something must have given him away, because a voice spoke in a barely audible whisper. "Lex? Are you awake?"
Going with the flow, Lex opened his dream-eyes and looked up at dream-Clark, who was hovering very closely over him. "I'm not sure if I'm awake or not."
Puzzled, concerned smile at his response. "I wanted to check if your fever had gone down, but I couldn't find a thermometer in your bathroom. This is a little less scientific, but I think..." A lean down, and the brush of lips against his forehead for another lingering moment.
Long column of tanned throat an inch away from his lips -- Lex wanted to run his tongue along it. Remembered that he was dreaming a little too late to follow through on the intent, and Clark pulled back again to look at him. "I think you still have a fever, but it seems to be lower now."
"Okay." Repeating the fact that he wasn't sick would be a waste of dream-breath.
"Now that you're awake, you can tell me where the thermometer is."
"Don't have one. Like I said, I don't-"
"Get sick," dream-Clark finished, sounding as exasperated as real-Clark had earlier. Amazingly detailed dream. "It's just that it's more accurate to tell temperature from inside the mouth rather than by surface skin."
Hmm... Lex had read about active dreaming before. This seemed like a good time to give it a try. "There's a way you can judge my internal temperature without a thermometer."
Slightly confused tilt to Clark's head, and Lex reached up to tangle one hand in the hair at the back of his skull. Tugged him downward slowly, and this definitely had to be a dream, because a gleam of understanding entered Clark's eyes, but he didn't pull away.
Mouth brushed against his, sweet and soft. Lex opened beneath it with a groan of satisfaction, looped his tongue into Clark's mouth then drew it back in silent invitation. Clark followed his lead, tongue slipping into Lex's mouth and exploring with tentative leisure -- brushing the ridge of his teeth, fluttering along the roof of his mouth, dipping below to brush at the root of his own tongue.
Lex's hand tightened convulsively in Clark's hair. Couldn't help it, but the boy didn't seem to notice. He seemed consumed by the need to map the interior of Lex's mouth, was doing so with increasing confidence and intensity. Lex wasn't about to complain.
After what seemed like the shortest dream-minute ever, Clark leaned back to break the kiss. His eyes were locked on Lex's lips for the longest moment, and Lex found it hard to catch his breath under the heated focus of the stare. Then the hazel eyes slowly traveled up to his. "You're definitely still overheated," came out on an uneven breath.
With dream-world abandon, Lex clasped Clark's wrist and drew his hand below the blanket to rest on top of his growing erection. "That's got nothing to do with being sick, Clark."
Clark's eyes flared at the evidence of Lex's reaction to the kiss, his hand moving in a slow, almost unintentional stroke along the shaft. The soft abrasion of the fabric injected a shot of pure heat from Lex's cock to the base of his spine. God *damn* this was a good dream.
"Lex... I... Shit..." Closed his eyes as though he were fighting for control. They opened again with a heated light seeming to glow from them. "I want to... God, are you sure you feel up to this?"
Lex shifted his hips upward in a sharp lunge, breath hissing out when Clark's fingers tightened instinctively. So damned good... "Can you seriously be asking me that question?"
And how odd, Clark usually didn't blush in his dreams, but he did just then. More realism, and whatever had caused this dream, Lex needed to find a way to repeat it. Often.
The strokes along his cock had strengthened and sped up slightly, though Lex wasn't sure Clark was aware of it. "It's just... you're sick, and I'm not sure this is good for you in your condition."
God help him... Lex couldn't take it if this dream ended now. "Trust me, Clark. I haven't felt this good in a *long* time. Just keep doing exactly what you're doing, and I'll be perfect in no time."
That earned him a dazzling grin, then a shift of eyes away, almost shy even as the caresses became more confident. "What if... can I do... other things?"
"Anything... just... Christ, don't *stop*."
The grin returned, and the hand not busy driving Lex to the brink of his first wet dream in quite a while rose to pull the throw off him and drop it on the floor. The other hand moved too, releasing him long enough to undo the knot on his drawstring running pants and slip inside to resume stroking. Skin against skin, and God, Lex hadn't thought it could get better, but it did. Pad of Clark's thumb finding the pre-come leaking from the head almost by accident, rubbing it around in delicious slow circles that made Lex's hips jerk upward convulsively.
So distracted that he hadn't noticed Clark undoing the buttons of the loose silk shirt. Fabric spread by anxious fingers, and lips suddenly fastened on Lex's nipple, another flash point of sensation shooting through his body. Felt the quick nip of teeth on the sensitized flesh before the tormenting lips traveled upward, tongue darting out to lick a line along his sternum and across his collarbone. Another soft bite into the fleshy part of his shoulder before tracing back to his neck, all the while the hand on his cock stroking, keeping him hard but nowhere near achieving release. Sweet torture that made breathing a chore, but so fucking incredible he didn't want it to stop.
Took Lex a long minute to realize that the rumbling he'd heard was not his heart pounding but was in fact Clark saying something against the flesh behind his ear. Found enough breath to speak, but barely. "What?"
"I said... that your numbers... are... taken care of..." words broken by incredibly erotic nips along the edge of his jaw. "Fixed... the formula... sent... to plant... manager... he's handling... the rest..."
A headlong slam into reality. Dear *God*... this was... "Real?"
Lips traveling back down his chest now, vibrations from the spoken words sending fresh sparks along his nerve endings. "Yes... for real... just thought... you should know."
Feeling the hand freeing his cock was nearly as much of a shock as realizing he wasn't dreaming this. Not much time to think about it as Clark's hands curled in the waistband of the running pants and pulled downward, Lex lifting his hips instinctively to allow them to be removed.
Hand returned to stroking the shaft slowly, and Lex thought he might explode simply from the realization that this was actually Clark touching him. Hazel eyes turned to his, looking uncertain again. "I've... never done this before. Let me know if I screw up."
Saw the dark head bending down, knew what was coming, and Lex had *never* had a dream this good. Soft lips closed over the head, and Lex had to force himself not to lunge upwards into the heat of Clark's mouth. Tongue swirled an agonizingly slow circle around the head, and Lex clenched his fists into the fabric of the couch. "Fuck..."
Clark turned his eyes, looking more confident after Lex's reaction. Released Lex's cock from his hand long enough to trace a line with his tongue along the vein to the base. Slipped his other hand under the tight balls to caress them, and this time Lex couldn't prevent himself from jack-knifing his hips upward. "I want to have it all, Lex. Tell me how."
Knew Clark needed an answer, forced himself to find breath to give it to him. "Shit, Clark... I'm about to come just from *looking* at you touching me. Whatever you do will be perfect." Another breath stopping grin before the mouth descended, and Lex remembered to add at the last second, "Just be careful with your teeth."
Mouth opened wide and then closed around him, lips skating down the length of his shaft. Wet heat, so damned good Lex had to concentrate on not pushing upward, knowing Clark's gag reflex probably couldn't take a deep throat without practice. Inexperience suddenly didn't matter, feeling Clark's tongue caressing him, running almost desperately in random patterns over the skin of his cock. Just knowing it was *Clark*, watching him do this, how close Lex had been to the edge even before that fuckable mouth had touched him...
Tension wound too tight to hold and exploded along his nerve endings, felt his muscles shudder with it. Couldn't control the thrusting of his hips, but Clark took it all, swallowed the come as it burst out of him. Eased his mouth away as Lex collapsed back onto the sofa in a boneless heap.
The ability to think slowly resurfaced. When he'd caught his breath and come down off the high enough to open his eyes, he saw Clark leaning over him, running hands in slow, exploratory caresses over his torso. Slight turn of the head, and hazel eyes glinting with mischief met his. "Feeling better?"
Had to chuckle at the self-satisfied grin on Clark's face. "Feeling perfect." Slid his hand off the edge of the sofa to cup Clark's erection through the restraining fabric of his jeans. "I think it's your turn, now."
A groan and an impulsive thrust against his hand before Clark sat back on his haunches, temporarily out of Lex's reach. "No. I think you've expended enough energy, all things considered." Stood up and backed away a step when Lex stretched to reach for him. Made a sweeping gesture downward with his hand. "I can handle... this."
Lex stood and caught Clark as he tried to pass by. Slid one hand into a back pocket of Clark's jeans and pulled him forward, using the other hand to cup the hardness of Clark's cock. "I know you can, but *I* want to handle it. Literally."
Watched Clark fight a losing battle for control, teeth biting into his lower lip and eyes closing for a moment. "You really should go to bed, Lex."
"I am going to bed... and you're coming with me."
"Are you-"
"If you ask me if I'm sure, I'll have to punish you."
A devilish grin that Lex would never have expected from Clark. That went well with the day's theme, actually. "Is that a promise? 'Cause if it is-"
A quick squeeze of his hand stopped the unnecessary talking, as Clark sucked in a breath. Releasing his grip on Clark's erection, Lex grabbed his hand and began leading him to the door of the room. "You've got a lot to learn, and I think now's as good a time to start as any. Besides, my bed is a lot more comfortable than this couch. Let's go upstairs, Farmboy."
Heard an amused chuckle from behind him. "As you wish."
Lex awoke the next morning to find a folded piece of stationary resting on the pillow next to him instead of Clark's head. Frowning with disappointment, he opened the note and read it:
// I didn't wake you when I left because I knew you needed sleep more than a goodbye kiss. //
Lex shook his head. "Wrong on that one, but I'll forgive you."
// Had to get home before my parents sent out a search party. //
Lex winced. "Yeah... that could've been awkward in ways that lead to handcuff usage of the non-recreational kind."
// Made you some fresh squeezed orange juice before I left. It's in the refrigerator. I expect you to drink it, for my sake, if not your own. //
Lex chuckled. "Pushy farmboy. This will take some getting used to."
// I'll stop by as soon as I can. I remember you mentioning something about lesson five before you fell asleep. Rest up and I'll see you soon. Clark //
Lex folded the note and tossed it on the bedside table. He stood up and stretched, realizing he didn't feel remotely ill anymore. || Hello, immune system. Thank you for rejoining the land of the useful and functioning. ||
Lex was halfway to the bathroom before it occurred to him that being sick had gotten him *exactly* what he'd wanted for months. He turned around and went to the night table, digging his address book out of the drawer and dialing the phone.
"This is Lex Luthor. Connect me to Dr. Richards in the Biotoxins Research and Marketing department, please."
~The End~