Disclaimers: I do not profit in any way from my obsession with Clark, Lex and the Clex. So don't sue!
Ratings Note: NC-17
Summary: Fever eats him alive.
Author's Note: My brain is a fucked up place to live sometimes. I was possessed.
Acknowledgements: Thanks to jacynrebekah and nerodi for the read through and comments.
Warnings: Non-Consensual sex between an adult and a minor.
Dedication: To Tim Ian. ::hugs::
For those who care about these things, the following albums were in rotation:
The Cure, Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me
Liz Phair, Exile In Guyville
Feedback: Are you kidding? I live for it. I breathe for it. I wake up in the morning for it. Pretty please? email@example.com
Clark shivered under the soft, worn blanket. Sweat soaked his clothes and slid down his face. His lips felt dry and sore; his tongue the texture of parchment.
A firm hand gently stroked the wet hair away from his forehead and he nuzzled into it wanting more. Calloused fingers smoothed across his cheek and he whimpered when the comforting touches disappeared.
Clark didn't believe that it was okay. He was so cold and he couldn't stop trembling. A cool cloth on his head was too much and he tried to shake it away.
"We're going to make you better, Clark. You need to do what Helen says, okay?"
Lex's voice. It barely registered in his fevered dreams, but it was Lex. His voice full with the deep thundering of horses hooves or the crash of ocean waves. Rhythmic, gentle and organic like the earth, like his parent's produce, like the beating of his heart.
Clark moaned as another violent shiver wracked his body.
"Listen to me, Clark. Just do what I say and you'll be all right."
Helen's voice this time. Clipped, strong and dictatorial. No budge there at all and Clark didn't think he'd have the guts to disobey her, no matter what.
His blanket disappeared first and he groped for it blindly. Then his sweat pants were peeling down and he couldn't sit up to pull them back up.
"It's okay, Clark. Just trust Helen. She knows what she's doing."
"I'm a doctor, Clark. It's okay."
Doctor? No. No. He couldn't be examined by a doctor. She would know, she would find out and then she would have him sent off to a lab to be studied and dissected.
A scream started in the back of his throat and he tried to force his eyes open but they wouldn't listen. He was trapped in blackness marred by swirling blue spots.
"Clark, please. Don't struggle. Let us help you."
Lex's voice again. Warm and dripping into his veins like honey, soothing him with its inherent concern and affection.
"It won't hurt. She won't hurt you. I promise."
Clark opened his mouth and licked his dry lips. Sweat salty and pungent on his tongue. He relaxed in defeat.
"That's it, Clark. Just let me do my work."
Helen again and he didn't even struggle as her small hands stroked up and down his thighs, tickling him a little. Gentle running sensations of liquid motion on his skin and his cock swelled in response.
"That's it. Just a little more."
Lex's hands threaded into his hair as he spoke. Clark tossed his head on the pillow when Helen's fingers wrapped around him and pumped him fully erect. Lex shushed him softly and stroked soothing fingers over his cheeks.
Clark's hips moved into an unconscious roll as Helen stroked him. His breath speeding up and his heart throbbing in his chest.
A different hold on his cock and a shifting of the mattress beneath him was the only warning he had before hot, warm and slick began to devour him. He screamed and his eyes flew open.
Helen, naked, sliding onto his cock. Her face a mask of concern, her hair in a bun, her glasses in place. Her body, slowly lowering onto him. Her hot cunt eating him alive.
He tried to escape but strong hands held him down.
"Clark, please, you'll die if she doesn't do this. Please, let her do her job."
Lex, pushing him hard into the mattress, holding him down, allowing Helen to fuck him and Clark couldn't even breathe. He met blue eyes that stared into him with an intensity matched only by the sensation burning in his balls, his cock and throbbing in his veins.
His own voice broken like shards of glass from lemonade pitchers shattered on kitchen floors. He was brittle and dry and Lex was heat and intensity. Clark was going to burst into flame.
"Clark, trust me."
Voice like horses, voice like earth, spilling over Clark, drowning him, suffocating him. Protecting him. Filling him. Owning him. Destroying and rebuilding within a space of breath.
Clark poured himself into the blue and fell back against a cool pillow. No more struggling as he stared into eyes that held him anchored, held him still and he rode a pleasure he needed now. Needed it more than it frightened him.
Tied to Lex's gaze, he panted into the rhythm of Helen's hips and allowed the slick, unbearably sweet slide to burn into him, to scar him inside and out. Over and over his cock penetrated her warmth and over and over he whimpered goodness in staccato breaths.
"That's it, Clark. That's it. So close. Almost done."
Lex's fingers in his hair, trailing over his face and eyes never leaving his own. Holding him there to feel this pleasure rolling through his loins and crashing into his heart. Pleasure that was all for Lex -- because he trusted him. Because Lex asked.
"Yes. Shhh. That's it. Come for her, Clark. Please."
Clark felt a sob rising in his chest as his balls drew up tight, horses racing in his bloodstream, hot waves crashing in his loins, organic need pulsing in hot streams of come and he broke inside.
His words held a choked note of awe and his body was a vibrating honeycomb, dripping with warmth and Lex's voice.
And it was there as pure as day, filling him and making him well -- making him whole.
Clark woke tangled in wet sheets. His dream still ringing in the air and his hand wrapped around his softening cock.
He curled into himself and clutched the pillow tight to his chest.
He stared into the blackness of his room, trapped by its darkness and swirling blue spots.
Horses and honey and crashing waves filled his thoughts in the form of one word.
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