Category: Lex, Clark, Clark/Lex, foof
Spoilers: Up through Hourglass technically
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Boys in cars. They even talk. A little. Couldn't get around that, sorry.
Archiving: SSA and anyone else who wants it
Dedication: Shana and Beth, for clutch advice and ID of a 384 Spider Ferrari, though year is still unknown, estimate is at 1994, respectively, as well as walking me through the contortions of making out in a Ferrari. Am I the only one who would whore myself to Lex for that car? Just to SIT by that car? Dear God. Okay, I'd do it anyway, but STILL, a hell of a perk.
Feedback: Better than chocolate.
Interior shot of a Ferrari Spider. Thank you Beth.
by jenn
Clark had *never* seen anyone treat an automobile like Lex did.
Clark's father, even with vehicles as mundane as the old work truck or the tractor, treated them with a form of reverence that bordered on disturbing, having less to do with worries about breakdowns and far more with that strange bond that men seemed to have with all things mechanical. This held true for the farming equipment, the SUV, and even the old lawnmower--indoctrinated in adolescence into the rightness of motors with other teen boys in their garages, sweating through the summer afternoons while pouring tirelessly over rebuilt engines and soaked in motor grease. A rite of passage that Clark had never experienced and frankly never really wanted to. Points for geekdom.
Lex, however, treated cars like toys. Like a five year old with a new set of blocks or a ten year old with his new bike--pure, uncomplicated, utter pleasure, not as much in possession but in sheer joy of use. Lex drove like it was the only thing he was ever meant to do, the only thing he *wanted* to do, and that as long as he was behind the wheel, the world was perfect.
Which, come to think of it, explained why the Porsche has its own altar in the garage, besides the ones Lex had mentioned. Faintly, it reminded Clark of burying his pet rabbit after it died of old age in the backyard, and to this day, he still visited the grave.
And he wondered, with a little grin, if Lex wandered over to sit by the Porsche and reminisce about old times.
The sound of a clutch being tortured brought Clark out of his idle thoughts with a cold crawl of skin up his spine, and he watched in a sort of unwilling interest as Lex skidded down the road toward him with all the finesse of a drunken frat boy navigating stairs. Almost a crime, to witness a car like *that* being anything less than flawless.
That car.
Ferrari.
Sports car.
Oh yeah.
A thing of beauty. The wet dream of boys and men with a strong need for testosterone-induced manliness, or so Chloe had claimed despite the fact that Clark had made a point of not asking. He knew what his father would say about Lex's car collection, could almost see the little sneer and raised brows, commenting that Lex didn't really appreciate them, their value, their--well, whatever it was that made men drool over big pieces of machinery. An example of the dissipation of the Luthors, his father would mutter, a sign that they never valued what they had. And while Clark could understand his father's attitude, he wondered if he could ever explain that it wasn't carelessness, or at least, not the kind his father thought it was.
He didn't think so. For Clark, navigating the half-shadowy corners and uneven twists of Lex's personality and motivations was a hazardous and uncertain occupation at the best of times. Explaining it would be tantamount to walking a deaf person through Beethoven.
With a shriek of brakes and clutch, the car sputtered to an uneven stop just beside him, and Lex jerked at the gear shift with a viciousness that made Clark wince, before growling something that probably wasn't polite and Clark wasn't even sure was English. Shoving the car into park, he pulled out the key with a sigh that bordered on frustration, fixing blue eyes on the steering wheel with something that vaguely resembled betrayal. Clark noted the signs of wear on a car only a week old--mud sprinkled across the fenders, the tires already showing their close and unhappy relationship with patched asphalt and dusty farm roads, the chips on the bumper. Almost sighed to himself--he had just enough of his father in him to want to take the car home and caress it back to health and perfect beauty. Luthor property or no, he knew for a fact his father would help him. And probably lecture Lex on the care of fine automobiles while he was doing it.
Hiding a smile, he resettled his backpack as Lex got out, giving the car a look of utter disgust, a kid whose toy didn't perform up to specs. Graceful even in what amounted to being a pout, padding to the front of the car, getting expensive shoes filthy in the dirt on the side of the road, and staring at the Ferrari as if he expected it to apologize for disobedience.
Clark grinned.
"Nice to see you're getting the hang of driving her," Clark murmured and got a glance and raised eyebrow for his trouble, before a quick turn on his heel, eyes narrowing.
"Miss the bus again?" Lex asked, lounging back against the hood with a little smirk. Mud smeared across the black shirt cuffs and a dulling one black leather-covered palm to soft brown.
"My reputation spread that far?"
"I have a running bet with my floor manager, your friend--Chloe's?--father." Sighing as one heel kicked idly at the tire. "Lost again. He's going to end up owning the company at this rate."
"You should know better than to bet on me by now."
"In the long run, I'll stick with what I trust," Lex answered lightly, and the off-center response made Clark try to catch the expression on Lex's face. Nothing there, not really. Lex rarely let much show--it was these little things that made Clark wonder more and more about Lex's childhood. Not that he'd ever ask--he didn't need to be told that there were places in Lex's mind and memories that were marked restricted access. Probably even to himself. "You want a ride home?"
"Depends on how well you drive this thing." Judging from what he'd just seen, he had to admit that the amusement factor alone was enough to get him in the passenger seat. And God, it was a *Ferrari*. He'd ride with Whitney for a Ferrari.
Okay, maybe not.
Lex grinned then, one hand going out to caress the car like petting a favorite puppy. Just so damn young all of a sudden, and it was only in times like this that Clark felt perfectly at ease with Lex, the distance between fifteen and twenty-one diminishing to almost nothing, and over a pretty car, for God's sake.
Okay, not pretty--gorgeous, wonderful, lust-worthy. Damn.
"I'm learning. I'll just avoid bridges and open roads. Wear a seatbelt and pray, farm boy. Get in."
Clark laughed and pulled his backpack off, crossing the front of the car as Lex got in, feeling the engine come to life like a great cat purring at just the right touch through the fine leather interior. Yes, he had picked up more than a little love of the automobile from his father, and a definite taste for good upholstery from Lex.
"It's a great car, you know."
Lex shrugged a little, flipping into first with a semi-experienced hand, and Clark remembered when he'd first seen Lex drive it, almost a week before. Still unsteady, trying by sheer will to *force* the machine into doing what he wanted, and Clark could remember how his father had taught him to drive, how to ride. Asking the vehicle to turn itself over to its driver, almost like a living thing that needed to be coached into submission. Like a woman, his father said with a secret smile when Mom was out of hearing, and Clark had smiled back, warm in their shared understanding.
Looking at Lex, doggedly determined to conquer the car like a commander going after a stubborn city, he thought he could see now the marks that a very different education had made in the other man.
"What? The worst I can do is plow into that field," Lex told him, and Clark flushed, realizing that Lex had caught him watching. The car shifted unevenly into second and Clark shivered along with the clutch, before the entire car stalled and Lex slapped the steering wheel in frustration. "Shit. You little bi--"
Clark couldn't help but laugh and got a glare from Lex that didn't help the situation either.
"It's a sensitive car," Clark explained after a few seconds, choking back another laugh at the wounded expression on Lex's face. "Treat her with respect."
"Her?" Both eyebrows now.
"Her," Clark answered firmly, then sighed. "Get out."
Lex blinked, turning wide blue eyes on him, disbelief covering his face as loudly as a shout.
"You're ordering me out of my own car?"
And Clark would have said it would be a cold day in hell before he would order Lex to do anything, but he reached between them and put on the parking brake, giving Lex a glance. "It's a crime to treat her like this," he answered, and pushed open his door.
"I can't believe you're ordering me to get out of my car."
"I can't believe you're treating a thoroughbred like a rustbucket," Clark answered with a grin. "Let me show you how you're *supposed* to treat a lady."
For a second, something flashed in the blue eyes, but the seatbelt fell away and Lex pushed his door open, getting out onto the shoulder of the road. When they'd traded places, Lex made a show of putting on his seatbelt, and Clark smirked at him as he adjusted the seat farther back and settled into the Lex-warmed leather seat.
Mmm. He could seriously get used to this.
"I've never gotten into an accident in my life, unlike some people I could mention," he said and got a grunt in response that couldn't possibly be anything approaching language. "Okay. Watch and learn, city boy. First, she's a lady, so treat her like one." Making a show of it, he shifted the car into neutral and put a foot on the clutch and a foot on the brake, turning the key slowly, feeling her come to life beneath him, the purring shivering up his spine. God, this was a good car. Maybe his mother had had a point after all. A little breathless, he smiled at the feel of the Ferrari's response. "Now, she's ready for a little more. You ask her--ask, not tell--to let you drive her. Push down on the clutch with your left foot, like this, and shift to first--she's subtle, you're only getting to know her now, so be a gentleman, don't take liberties. Now gas."
God. She moved like liquid silk and Clark almost sighed in sensuous appreciation at the feeling of her moving beneath him. From the corner of his eye, he noted that he had Lex's complete and absolute attention. Huh.
"The hardest part is always going from neutral to first, getting her to trust you, understand what it is you want. After that, everything flows."
"Yes. That--makes sense." Clark tossed Lex a sharp glance but saw nothing but utter rapt attention. It was disconcerting, but somewhat warming in a way he tried not to think about too hard. Blinking, he forced himself back into the car, away from the clear blue eyes.
"Now--" Gently, he guided the Ferrari back onto the road, pushing the clutch in and shifting her to second. "Here, second, easy as anything, she's yours. She trusts you to handle her well, trusting you for the ride of her life."
"So I see."
There was a strange quality to Lex's voice that Clark wondered about, but he dismissed it, giving himself over to the feel of the car around him. Shifting into third, he felt the power under him increase and smiled a little--speed he understood, even if a car couldn't match him when he was on his own two feet. Addictive as anything, and if Clark sometimes hated what made him different, that hatred never entered his mind when he ran.
At fourth gear, they were racing by so quickly that Clark took a sharp breath, watching the fields go by in dark brown golden stripes, the road before him temptingly open. Almost as good as running, maybe, even if not quite as personal. Giving Lex a glance, he grinned a little at the other man's expression of perfect serenity in the world, lips slightly parted in appreciation, dark lashes swept downward on flawless skin, as if he'd never had to worry about the horrors of teenage acne or uncomfortable blushes. Beautiful.
Clark blinked away the thought and turned his attention back to the road, shifting his grip on the wheel.
"So, what do you do? The oil gets dirty and you buy a new car?" he heard himself ask lightly, breaking the quiet of the car. Even to himself, his voice sounded strained. That got him a grin, though Lex's eyes didn't open.
"I like cars."
"Probably like rollercoasters too."
"No. Less control," he answered, turning his head against the seat so the blue eyes met his. "How'd you learn to drive anyway? Aren't you below age or did some significant Kansas laws change recently?"
Clark blinked, the ease vanishing, reminding him that Lex wasn't just another friend, but someone and something entirely different. Exotic by Smallville standards, definitely. Clark suspected people like Lex were rare anywhere you went, though, and it was something of a comfort to imagine that most people who met Lex probably felt that little tinge of difference, the same sense of being an inch off-balance.
"Farmers kids can get a license earlier," Clark answered, downshifting to second when he saw the driveway approaching at a far too rapid speed. Damn. "For helping out around the farm."
"You need to be home now?" Ah, so Lex noticed where they were too. Clark glanced at Lex, studying the quiet face briefly. Didn't give him a clue.
"Not really." His parents wouldn't be home for hours.
"Good. Then we're finding a deserted road--that would be any road in Smallville, by the way--and we'll try your technique."
Clark blinked a little.
"What?"
Lex settled back in the seat, grinning again.
"Just curiosity speaking, Kent. Drive on. You're reminding me of how much I miss my chauffeur."
Clark grinned and slipped back into third, feeling her pick up speed again, almost arching into the seat as the car moved to his commands. He felt Lex's eyes on him again and wondered what exactly he was thinking
"So, what's her name?"
A blink he caught on peripheral vision.
"What?"
"Your car. Does she have a name?"
Lex lips parted briefly, and Clark caught a glimpse of a pointed tongue as Lex bit down lightly in thought. He really needed to be watching the road. Really, really, *really*--
--Clark tore his gaze back as he felt them drift toward the left and fixed his eyes on the distance. Lex was right. Smallville roads were deserted places. Thank God.
"Name my car?"
Clark shrugged a little at the polite disbelief.
"Well, some people do."
That got him a sharp glance.
"You name your modes of transportation? That's--interesting."
"Lots of people do that," he murmured, heat rising beneath his skin. It sucked to be a teenager sometimes. "Makes it--personal."
"Personal." Lex said the word like he was tasting it and Clark shivered a little at the sound of his voice. "Interesting idea."
Clark dared a quick glance at Lex, then fixed his eyes back on the road as he switched back into fourth, then up to fifth, breath catching. Life didn't really get much better than this--fast car, friend looking perfectly at ease in the seat, the sun golden-pink on the horizon, and speed.
"What are you thinking about?"
Clark pulled his thoughts back and smiled a little.
"Just thinking--you know, in general. You ready to try it now? I think we're in a deserted enough area. Just avoid, you know, any cows you see."
"You're very funny, you know that?"
Clark tilted his head as he brought the car back down and drifted neatly to the side of the road, coming to a picture-perfect stop.
"Don't mention it."
"I wouldn't, except you're still in the driver's seat and I'd like my car back."
Clark put on the parking brake and slid out of the seat, meeting Lex in front of the car and feeling the brush of Lex's shirt against his bare arm as he passed. Fine material, something like silk and probably was, and the light scent of a cologne Clark didn't recognize but wanted to catch again. Breathing a little harder, he slipped back into his seat, watching as Lex gave the steering wheel a long determined look.
"Afraid of your car, Luthor?" he asked, and got a little grin.
"Wondering if your technique works." A pause, before his hands dropped from the wheel and he shifted sideways, giving Clark a long look that made Clark suddenly aware of the pulse of the blood in his wrists, the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, and the sudden interest certain body parts were taking in the proceedings, before Lex glanced down at the parking brake thoughtfully. "That should do."
Uh....
"My--technique?" Somewhere, he was sure, there was a very different conversation going on that he'd totally missed. He would have liked to be part of that one.
"Driving, of course." A wicked smile and Clark felt himself flush more--God, he had to look like an idiot, breath catching tight in his throat, trying to find somewhere to put his hands, and Lex's gaze dropping quick and hot to somewhere below Clark's waist.
"Yeah. Driving." He found himself watching Lex's mouth, and licked his lips quickly, tearing his gaze away and fixing it on the window behind him, at the barren winter fields. Very non-sexy fields.
"Subtle, correct?"
Clark blinked and drew in a breath.
"Yeah. The--the--"
"Gear shift. Shifting from neutral to first, from nothing to the beginning of something--you have to be careful."
The finger that touched his face was warm beneath the gloves, and Clark drew in another unsteady breath as it skated lightly across his cheekbone, coming to rest at the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah."
"How subtle?"
A slow trace down over his lips and Clark dropped a hand to the seat, digging in, hoping somewhere in him that he didn't ruin the upholstery.
"Not--not so much."
"Ask, don't order." The fingertip slid down his chin, tracing along his jaw, and Clark couldn't look away from the blue eyes staring into his with such intensity, waiting for something.
"Are you asking?" Clark whispered, warm breath against his mouth, caught helplessly between wanting to slide forward and wanting to run.
"Luthors rarely ask for anything."
The kiss was as good as a question, though, so light that Clark could barely feel it and instinct took over--leaning forward, he braced a hand against the polished wood just behind the gear shift. His other hand came up to brush against the smooth skin of Lex's face, surprised by the cool, silky feel of it. Instantly, the hand on his face dropped to the throat of his shirt and he was jerked closer.
A few seconds of sheer bliss and balance that definitely broke some law of physics, as Lex's mouth moved expertly over his, pushing his lips open and his tongue tracing across his teeth with a single dart, and Clark awkwardly tried to return the kiss and keep relatively upright.
This wasn't working. But damned if he was going to stop now.
"Subtle, hmm?" Hands were gentle on his face, sliding into his hair and tilting his head, before Lex shifted in his seat, moving back against the door, and Clark got his knees under him on his seat. One hand braced beside Lex's hip, he slid the other around the back of Lex's neck, he felt the next brush of lips, opened his mouth to it, and the taste of Lex's tongue was instantly addictive.
Lex's body warm against his, but God, this space was damn well too small and Clark tried to shift closer, his knee knocking into the gear shift. Vaguely, he felt Lex's hand move and the sound of the keys coming out of the ignition and falling carelessly to the floor.
Good idea. Clark didn't think he could let Lex stop if the car started moving.
"So this is subtle?" Clark whispered, pulling back a little and caught Lex's slow smile, a flash of teeth that seemed--hungry.
"Works for me." Another shift--damn--warm lips against his throat, Clark's body bent awkward and uncomfortable and he wouldn't trade a second of this for anything at all. Long fingers digging into his back, through the thin material of his shirt and then pulling it up and sliding beneath, the grip on his hair that tilted his head back. A slow, almost lazy lick along his jugular, goosebumps trailing up Clark's back and over his arms.
Then slim fingers circled the edge of his jeans, nails dragged across his stomach and Lex's hand pushing flat against his skin. Only inches from...
"God--" he breathed and Lex's other hand tightened on the small of his back.
"Trust me?" A breath against the warm, wet skin of his throat, teasing, and Clark shivered, turning his head just enough to catch hot blue eyes. "Ride of your life, Clark."
Easy one.
"Yes."
the end
