She was in her purple pajamas when Lex knocked on the door. Purple pajamas with cats on them. Cats eating sushi, to be exact. Lana answered the door expecting Chloe. Or Clark even, or both. But not Lex.
She answered the door and it was Lex and she was in her purple cat sushi pajamas.
Slamming the door in his face would have been rude, although it crossed her mind anyway because embarrassed was not even close. Mortified, humiliated, crawl in a hole and die was more like it.
He walked in without being invited. "Nice outfit," he said, and smiled in a way that made her blush. Then he mercifully moved on. "Where's Nell?"
For a moment, Lana was blank. Where was Nell? And why was Lex in her kitchen, running his fingers over the counter top like he was wearing a white glove and inspecting for dust? Who really has dust on their kitchen counter top? And where again was Nell?
"Uh, Nell is...uh..."
Stammering, with Lex Luthor in her kitchen, wearing cat sushi pajamas. So not what Lana wanted to be doing right now. If she'd had her choice, she'd be doing the damn math she was having so much trouble with. Thankfully, annoyance at her dorky state of affairs snapped her brain over into function mode and she remembered: Nell was in Metropolis at a florists convention.
Lex laughed. It startled her, because it sounded genuine, and usually when he laughed it sounded...evil. "A florists convention?"
Cat sushi pajamas aside, Lana couldn't help but cock her head and throw an incredulous look his way. "You hold conventions for fertilizer distributors. That's just...weird."
The laughter in his throat died, but Lex looked impressed, and still amused, rather than annoyed with her attitude. "I don't hold conventions, I hold dinners and make propositions. But that's neither here nor there I guess."
She couldn't help but notice he said n-eye-ther. Nell said n-eye-ther. It was the proper way, Nell once told her. She, and everyone else she knew, except apparently Nell and Lex, said n-ee-ther. But that, she figured, was n-ee-ther here nor there as Lex shrugged off his coat and hung it over one of the dining room chairs.
"Clark and Chloe are still at school working on the paper. I offered to be a tutor in their stead."
The question 'what makes you think you're staying?' was drowned out by a now, more pressing question. "You're going to help me with math?"
Lex chuckled. "I'm qualified, Lana."
It was mildly patronizing, but Lana chose to ignore it and sighed heavily. "I'm sure you are, Lex, I just thought -- "
"What?" Eyebrows raised, there was a challenge there, dare to defy all he knows about high school algebra.
Lana nearly laughed then. Of course he could tutor her in math. He might even be more helpful than Clark and Chloe. He could probably even get a copy of the test in advance. He said n-eye-ther, after all. She smiled, suddenly somewhat excited about the prospect.
"Nothing. What do you know about cosign tangents?"
Lex clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth and looked down at the algebra book lying open on the table. He flipped a page with his thumb. "I think the question you should be asking me, Miss Lang, is what don't I know about cosign tangents."
"Really?" Lana made her way to the other side of the table and plunked herself down, pencil poised.
Lex watched her, then laughed again. "No, but I'm sure we can figure it out together."
Cosign tangents demystified, twenty problems done and checked over obsessively by Lex, Lana slipped the folded notebook paper inside and closed the book. She smiled, about to thank him profusely for spending his entire evening learning the finer points of 10th grade algebra with her, but the words caught in her throat and her head tilted in question.
He was looking at her. Looking right through her. It sent shivers up her spine, not unlike the tingling she experienced a lot of the time when he was around. Lex simply unnerved her, it had never been a really big secret, and it had never made her question his motives. Until now.
There was a long silence as her voice hung in the air between them, his name bordering on question and statement, muddled to the point that she couldn't even figure out if she was asking or saying, and she'd been the one that had asked...or said.
Finally, he smiled, tapped his finger against the rim of the coffee mug she'd supplied him midway between cosign equals xy and xy does not equal 1 unless xy is equivalent to the tangent z.
"You're really cute in those pajamas."
It was not what she was expecting him to say, and she felt the heat creep into her cheeks, knew she was coloring a bright shade of pink. "Shut up." The smile widened, and Lana wondered why he didn't use this one more often. It was genuine and joyful, not predatory; and oh how Smallville was missing out on this delightful Lex.
"No, I mean it. What are those cats eating? Sushi? How does a cat use chopsticks?"
He let the rhetorical question hang there, pushed himself up from the table and, coffee forgone, made his way into the living room and to the sofa. Without waiting for permission, he sat down and motioned her to join him.
Part of the old Lex was back; whether it was in his expression or if Lana just sensed it, she wasn't sure. But she was sure that it was him, and that he wanted something -- no, expected something -- because Lex didn't want, he got.
She stood up, felt her legs trembling just slightly, and gripped her own coffee mug to bring with her. She had no intention of drinking it, but needed something to grasp onto, although her fingernails digging into the ceramic made a less than subtle scratchy squeaky noise, and her knuckles were a bright shade of white as she approached the couch.
He tilted his head as she sat, threw one arm up across the sofa back and grinned at her. "There's something about me you should know."
She almost dared not ask. In the space of two seconds, she'd gone from giddy cosign expert to inexperienced sophomore in high school with an older boy in her living room. Her mind was spinning, and worse, Lex seemed perfectly at ease in this arena.
"What?" she finally managed, grateful the one syllable word left no room for shaking in her voice.
Lex leaned in. His lips were only millimeters from her ear, and the warmth of his breath tickled her skin. "When I see something I want, I make sure I get it."
"I -- "
It couldn't be helped. The incredulity of the situation pushed into her brain. She had on pajamas. What could Lex possibly want with a sixteen-year-old girl wearing purple cat sushi pajamas? It just wasn't natural.
Obviously, no one sent Lex the memo, because his lips were on hers an instant later, and if she'd have made a bet that her first instinct was to push him away, she'd have lost. No, her first instinct was to pull him in, closer, tighter, because damn, he had soft lips, the kind that were just made for kissing.
Perhaps he wasn't as confident and impenetrable as he pretended to be, because he pulled back slightly, eyes bordering on surprise, giving her a chance to let go. And she didn't. Lana figured this was as good as it gets and stupid outfit or no, she wasn't going to stop and think about consequences now.
Consequences were for early hours and next days, not for right now.
The kiss lasted so long Lana lost track. Hands had traveled paths from faces to shoulders to chests to torsos and back again, and she was sure no one had touched her quite so expertly and in such a way that made her forget what she was wearing altogether.
Or not wearing, at least not completely, since buttons were undone and Lana couldn't help but be impressed by Lex's ability to maneuver the tiny little purple buttons out of their fasteners without her realizing it.
Of course, she'd been wrapped around his tongue at the time, so who knows what he could have gotten away with. Her skin burned in little patterns, and his hand still rested there, halfway down her body at her waist, fingers clenching just a little with each weighted breath. Lana leaned back, felt Lex's hand shift, just slightly, below her breast and across her rib cage, certain he could feel the rapid thumping of her heart beneath his palm.
Everything was perfect, purple pajamas or no, and the feeling of buoyancy settled into her every limb, even as her brain buzzed with this new thing she'd done: she'd kissed Lex Luthor and ohmygod there is going to be a huge freak-out tomorrow.
He'd moved slightly, leaning over her, hand still pressed to her skin, now in an even more precarious position than before. She wanted his hands everywhere, the weight of him covering her, filling her, and it really wasn't going to get worse until it got a whole hell of a lot better.
Somehow, Lana felt free. Like she assumed she had with the Nicodemus (if only she could remember), only this time it was her and she was in control; in complete control of abandoning control which made it all the more satisfying.
He chuckled a little, dipped his head down and laid a small kiss at her collar bone. "Still with me?"
She laughed and managed to lift a hand, stroked it down the back of his head, partly to show affection, partly to keep him right there, nuzzling her neck. "If you're floating on a very fluffy cloud, then yeah, I'm right there with you." "When's your aunt getting home?" His voice was muffled now, breath hot in puffs against her jugular.
A small jolt of panic threatened to knock Lana off of her cloud. For a few blessed moments, she'd forgotten completely about Nell.
"Tomorrow," she told him, leaning up on her elbows as he lifted himself from her and straightened his shirt.
She thought for a terrible instant that he was going to get his coat and go. Nell, Clark, Whitney, or not, Lana was not ready for him to go, because when he left, that's when oh shit time began. And she was so not ready to face that time. Not without more kisses.
But he didn't get his coat. He looked around the house, assessing in the way he does that, and glanced up the stairs.
"Where's your room?"
Now Lana sat up, holding the two sides of her top together with one hand. "Lex, your car's outside." She bit her lip and begged to take those words back. Those kinds of words would make him leave and that was truly the last thing she wanted him to do.
His lips quirked into an amused half smile instead. "That's where I was supposed to park it, right?"
Lana rolled her eyes, suddenly a lot more comfortable that he seemed to have no intention of leaving, although the prospect of going into her bedroom rather than staying safely on the couch did scare her slightly. "People will talk."
He moved closer to her. "People always talk. It's what people do." His hand covered hers, gently prying it away from her pajama top. His fingers pressed her flesh at her ribs again, this time on both sides, circling her waist until they touched at the small of her back. He leaned down, placed a small, lingering kiss on her lips. "Let's give them something to talk about."
Lana's mind spun as he kissed her, aching to tease him for the pure cheesiness of his line, but completely distracted by those soft lips again, this time pressed so desperately against hers she wondered if she'd run out of breath before ever pulling away from this.
He tasted like coffee and the peppermint stick he'd swirled in it, and everywhere he pressed against her felt like steel except for the velvet of his lips and the feather-light caress of his hands as he rubbed the nape of her neck down to the small of her back.
Small whimpers emanated from the back of her throat, completely unbidden but they caused Lex to stop anyway. He only pulled back slightly, so that their faces were inches apart, but every other part of him was still pressed desperately to her. "Trying to think of more reasons not to do this? How about you've never done it before?"
Lana raised an eyebrow, heard the subtle challenge in his voice and gave no mire to the stream of conscious chatter that told her not to let him take advantage of this situation. Instead, she tilted her head, let her eyes rove over his prone form, lingering slightly longer on the obvious arousal beneath his ridiculously expensive pants.
It would really be a shame to ruin pants that nice.
"My room's upstairs. Second door on the left."
Because Lex wasn't all pomp and circumstance, he paused. She saw the conflict in his eyes. If you ask, you give them the opportunity to say no. If they've already said yes, don't give them a chance to back out.
But he swallowed hard. And asked. "You sure?"
She smiled. Grateful for the chance to back out, more convinced than ever that this was her night, and she was going to be free, regardless of tomorrow. She started up the steps, this time not bothering to hold together the open flaps of her purple cat sushi pajamas.
The double-entendre of the statement initially escaped her, until Lex laughed and looked down at his lap. He chuckled as he followed her up the stairs, and Lana vowed to wear sexy pajamas from now on, because you never knew who was going to show up at your door to give you a tutoring session.
She laughed at that herself and opened the door of her bedroom, at once aware of how small and pink and utterly girlish it was -- watched Lex carefully for a reaction before moving to the window and drawing the shade. She saw no light on in the barn at the Kent's and forced herself not to think about that because this was so in conflict it wasn't even funny.
Lex was fingering the pictures that edged her vanity table mirror, and she feared he was thinking the dangerously rational thoughts too -- about who exactly she was and who exactly he was and how their worlds were never meant to mesh -- not like this anyway. But when he turned, she still saw the desire in his eyes, clouding them a stormy blue, the way the sky looked during August rain showers. She smiled at him, nudged the pajama top off of her shoulders and let him take her into his arms.
Everything about him was right. It was frightening and comforting at the same time; letting him take complete control because truth was she had no idea what to do, and she didn't dare admit how little her experience actually was. Truth of it, Whitney was a good guy. A patient guy. Not a demanding boyfriend in the least. That had worked to her advantage, until now.
He held her like she was fragile, placed her on the bed as a priceless antique would be placed on a shelf, encased behind glass and barely touched even to be dusted. Except he touched, gently and expertly and everywhere, until Lana was gasping and dizzy and unsure if she would ever walk upright again.
The final part of her cat pajama ensemble -- the oversized cotton pants -- were discarded on the floor, and it happened so quickly, so expertly, only the cool air of the room on her exposed legs alerted her to what he had done. She was briefly glad she'd worn nice panties -- your basic black with high cut legs and more lace than usual. Not that it mattered, since his hands were at the hem and tugging them down almost as quickly as she'd bothered to look down to check which ones they were.
Things got a little more scary once she was completely naked, he with the comfort of his pants still, although she heard his shoes make a dull thud on the floor as he kicked them off. She shivered, and he kissed her, slow and long and understanding; his hands making neat travels across and down her body, not just learning every curve but stopping to explore it. He carefully measured the places that made her gasp and catalogued them, going back repeatedly until she was putty again, all fear pushed out of her mind by the haze that was settling in for the long haul.
She tried to touch him the way he was touching her, but his fingers were expert, and hers felt clumsy, desperate to make him float the way she was floating, but unable to concentrate enough to achieve it. Still, he murmured encouragement into her ear and told her she was doing it right, it was all so right and so real and so...perfect.
He said that. Perfect. She might have fallen in love then.
She felt him gasp when her fingernails tickled his stomach, felt the muscles tense up and the breath in his throat catch and hold, just for a second. She stopped there, because going any lower was scary, and she didn't want to hurt him, or break him, or worse, not make him feel like he was going to burst. A tingle shot through her body as his tongue gently laved her ear, and his hands were smooth and sure as he cupped them over hers and guided her downward. He shuddered when she touched him, and snaked his hand away and left hers there. It was hot, and pulsing and a little bit wet, and Lana was sure she hadn't felt this intimately connected with anyone, ever. She wanted so badly to make him happy, just happy and that shouldn't seem so difficult, especially in a situation like this.
Lex's own hands continued their travel over every plane of her, and he used two fingers to touch her, gently, the way she was touching him. Only he wasn't scared, or confused, or at a loss of what to do next. In fact, he was making her tremor from the inside out, every place he touched just set on fire and leaving her entire being a raging inferno.
She thought that she might scream, could do nothing but tighten her hand and jerk him upwards as he spiraled her body into oblivion. His thumb worked at her, harder whenever she stroked him, which was only incentive as far as she was concerned. She was moaning steadily, could hear it rumbling in her own ears and wondered how loud it was to the room outside. It didn't matter, nothing mattered except Lex's fingers inside her, his thumb on her clit and her hand wrapped around him, making his hips buck against her and feeling like she was going to die from pleasure.
When his mouth closed over hers, a deep, desperate kiss that sent waves upon waves of emotion over and through her, she stopped touching him, let go of him altogether and desperately tried to get her mind back.
She felt his fingers slide out of her, and he moved up to cradle her face, releasing the kiss gently, slowly, until only their lips touched and even then, just barely.
"What is it?" he asked, a whisper so soft she was sure she wouldn't have heard him except that the entire world seemed to have fallen away and it was only them, in her room, on her bed.
Lana shook her head. "I don't know," she said, closest thing to the truth she could manage. "I want this so much -- I just feel -- "
His eyes softened and he rose slightly, grasped for his pants and ultimately his wallet and extracted a condom from its depths. Lana was surprised at her lack of surprise, because it seemed natural, and she was glad he wasn't stopping, because in no way did 'I don't know' mean 'please stop and go home'.
"Overwhelmed?" he finally said, laying back down, this time next to her rather than on top, and pulling her body toward his until they were pressed together with no space between.
She nodded, grateful. "Yeah."
Lex smiled. He leaned down, kissed a small spot on her shoulder and murmured, "me too."
She had freckles on her shoulder. Lex seemed surprised at that. He traced them, first with his hand, then with his tongue, finally moving his lips over her jaw and back up to her mouth. His tongue immediately slipped into hers, strokes hard, and deep and needy, as though the brief intermission had never taken place.
Lana allowed him to roll onto his back taking her atop him, and felt a rush as he pressed up into her, his cock straining against the bone in her hip, leaving small wet circles every time she rolled one way or the other.
"God -- Lana -- "
His voice was strained, and Lana wondered if anything would ever be the same again. She was already feeling changes in herself, a boldness that just hadn't existed before no matter how much she tried to convince herself it was there, it was just buried. She fumbled for the condom and managed to tear the foil wrapper with her teeth, sitting up far enough to reach for him and roll it on. She'd paid attention in health class. She knew enough.
Obviously, though, she didn't know everything. Lex rolled them back over almost immediately, telling her there was no way she could be on top the first time. He gently kissed and cradled her against him until he'd worked her open with his fingers again, until she was pushing against his hand and begging for something, anything more.
When his fingers were replaced with the head of his erection, Lex braced himself on his forearms and dropped a quick kiss on Lana's forehead. He whispered 'relax' as he pushed forward, and Lana tried, maybe too hard, to do just that. Pain. She cried out, then immediately bit her tongue. This was not how she imagined it would be.
Lex stopped, pushed a heavy breath from his lungs and Lana felt his eyes all over her. She felt his weight shift, lower onto her once more and his lips slant over hers. Her eyes fell closed instantly, his kiss intoxicating, tongue massaging away every ounce of pain she thought she felt.
He must have kissed her for a minute or more, still stationary half way inside her, patient as any man could ever be. Finally, she moved beneath him, desperate for him to do something, and he pushed forward a little more, then more, until she felt his hips flush with hers and a small groan slip from the back of his throat. His lips lifted, and he breathed out her name before pulling back and entering her again.
This was it. This was how it was supposed to be. Lex, steely and slicked with sweat, above and inside and below her. Lana felt surrounded by him, protected in everything Lex Luthor and had never been more content in her life. His pace quickened slightly and she felt him slip a hand between their bodies, fingers again doing what they expertly knew how to do; working at her clit until she felt like her head was spinning or the room was spinning or someone was outside spinning her house.
She bit down on his shoulder as she came, unable to keep from yelping, probably loudly, and at the same time unable to care in the least. Her mind was such a blur, she barely felt him stop moving for a second, until he pushed into her one final time, and she felt him go slack against her, every muscle still coiled and tense, even as his entire body fell to a bag of bones.
She felt his heart, where it pounded against her breast. She felt his breath, not warm but hot -- searing -- against her neck. She felt every part of him pressed into her; the wonderfully heavy weight of him. Her arms felt limp and spaghetti-like, but she managed to lift them, cradle them around his back and hold there. She traced circles with her fingernails across his back. They lay there. Quiet. Together. For a long, long time.
The little dot on her alarm clock had switched from it's p.m. position to it's a.m. one when Lex finally moved. She'd been floating in and out of sleep for what seemed like hours. He rose, retreated to the bathroom, and came back, nestled himself against her and she thought, consequences be damned, every single thing that might happen tomorrow was worth it for tonight.
16 May 2002
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