title: choose your own adventure
author: jessica
mail: thegirlinglasses@illuminatedtext.com
date: november 22, 2002
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Lex squeezes your hand tighter. He leads you past the crowd and towards the door. You can feel them staring and turn to grin. If you were younger you would blush under the attention. Lex would kiss your cheek and whisper in your ear that it was him they were jealous of.
'You're the one they're staring at, Clark.'
A shiver runs through your body; Lex looks over like he felt it too. He brings your clasped hands up to his lips and brushes a subtle kiss on your knuckles. He nods to the bouncer, undoubtedly an old friend. The man smiles at you as Lex pulls you inside. You would blush, but tonight all you have is a grin.
The music pounds in your head. Lights flash red and blue, off and on. The dance floor is moving as a single entity, cresting and falling. You tighten your grip on Lex's hand even as the crowd attempts to swallow him whole.
Your eyes dart around the room, trying to take in everything at once. The dancers on the platforms are dressed like policemen. The bartenders aren't wearing shirts. The guy dancing next to you has a tongue down his throat and another in his ear.
The light hits your eyes, Lex's hand is gone, and then there's an unfamiliar voice in your ear.
"Wanna dance?"
You try to turn, but an arm goes around your waist and a body moves up against your own. You think you should say something but for the moment, it's just a dance. You close your eyes and let the stranger move you to the music.
The man behind you grinds harder, his hand makes it's way under your shirt. The music pounds in your head and you force your eyes closed. His fingers trace the muscles on your stomach. The touch slides down and threatens to dip even farther.
Lex has been telling you about this place since you were fifteen. Promising to take you since you were sixteen. 'Don't let me lose you in there, Clark.' This is what he meant.
The stranger behind you is different, new. The speakers pump out a harsh rhythm, shirtless policemen dance in your head and you let yourself go. The Smallville Baptists used to hold protests for every senior prom and every spring formal; always threatening to stop the kids from having fun. You're older now. You know where dancing can lead, but you also know that it can be stopped, that you can stop it.
You're not quite ready to stop dancing, but this would be so much more fun someone else. You open your eyes and there he is. Lex, standing in front of you, vibrating with jealousy. His eyes are shining. You laugh, silent under the music, and reach out to take his hand. Lex spins you around, pulling you into his own arms. He bites down hard on your shoulder and you can hear the growl. The stranger sends you a questioning look, but, with Lex's hand creeping up your shirt, all you can do is shrug.
He dances you through the crowd and up to the bar. Lex holds you tight against him, possessive.
"I can never take you out again."
You turn in his arms, just barely resisting the urge to jump up on the bar and pull him between your legs.
"It's my birthday, Lex," you tell him.
You wrap your arms around his neck and drag your tongue across his cheek before taking his earlobe between your teeth.
"Let me have some fun."
Lex kisses you, coaxing your tongue into his mouth. It was the dance that made you hard, but Lex's kiss claims you for himself. You thrust up to meet him but he's not letting you off that easy. When you reach down to squeeze him through his jeans, he bites your lip, hard. He's making you work for this one.
The bartender's attention is already focused on the two of you. It's the nod from Lex that moves him to stand in front of you. He leans in with a grin and Lex pulls you back.
His hands are soft on your stomach. Lex likes to say that he's never done a day's labour in his life. You like to tell him that he's right. You can feel him straining; he's hard now. This is what he loves, showing the world that you belong to him. If the bartender doesn't believe the arms winding around you waist, he must understand the expression on Lex's face.
"Tell him what you want, Clark," his breath at your ear again.
He needs a drink. The club wasn't his idea. He said he'd get jealous, that he wouldn't let you dance with anyone else. You already knew that. Lex can get jealous at the grocery store. You wanted to make this time worth it.
You turn your head and try to catch his mouth. "I want you."
The bartender is watching. You hold his gaze. He licks his lips as you move in Lex's arms. Lex is tense, vibrating again, but this time you can feel it, inside. You reach back, curve your fingers around his head and bring his lips to your shoulder.
"I love you, Lex," you tease. He peers up, trading a look with the bartender who holds up his hands in defeat. You laugh, turn your head back.
"Are you boys done?"
Lex gives in, lets you lean over the bar, just a little. "Beer," you shout, two fingers in the air.
The bartender nods, turns away, but not before giving you another smile that makes Lex growl. You rub back against him until he purrs.
Two bottles are set on the bar; you reach for Lex's wallet and pass the bartender a bill. He makes sure your fingers touch and it makes you laugh. Wrapped tight in Lex's arms, you let yourself look. The bartender's eyes are on your mouth as your own travel down and back up. He's tanned dark, bleached blonde with bright blue eyes. Shirtless and behind a bar, he's almost a cliche. But it's your birthday.
"Not tonight, Clark," Lex grins. You pick up the beers and Lex drags you away, back onto the dance floor.
He lets you go to grab his beer, takes a long drink then wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close for a kiss, all with one smooth motion. You moan into the kiss; Lex breaks away to take another drink.
You move your hips to the music, hugging close to move Lex with you. The beat moves through you like a shot of arousal, heat. You lift the bottle to your dry lips but the beer is gone. You add the bottle to an already crowded platform and smile up at the dancer, moving, oblivious to anything but the music. Lex is getting jealous again. He lifts his own bottle, empty, licking his lips and playing his tongue in the bottle suggestively.
"You are such a teenager, Lex," you grin.
He is sometimes. Like now, when he raises his eyebrows in question, grabs your hand and pulls you towards the bathrooms before you can say yes.
There's a waiting crowd but you'll move through quickly. A blowjob, a line, a quick fuck in the stall; nothing lasts in a place like this.
You wait with Lex holding you close, an arm around you, fingers tucked underneath your waistband. He attaches his mouth to your neck, licking at the sweat. He hums something under his breath, concentrating, trying to suck a mark on your skin that he knows will never stay.
Inside the empty stall, you close the door, lock yourselves inside. The noise of the club is muted in your ears, not a shift in the sound but in your mind. Your eyes slide closed, your head back against the wall. You can feel a thumping from the other side, ignoring it for the man standing across from you.
Lex is watching. Waiting for you to come around again. He let you play tonight, didn't complain too much. You reach out and take his hand to remind him that you never left his side.
With a hungry look, he pushes you backwards, hard against the wall. Lex holds you in place with his hands on your shoulders. He bites at your lips, pulling away before you can bite back. Then it's a tongue, sliding over your mouth, cheek, gone again, and leaving you searching.
"Lex." You groan his name, needy, but he's not listening.
His attention is moving downwards, following his hands on your body. Lex pulls your shirt up and your nipples harden in the cool air he blows over them. He rests a hand on your hip, another low on your stomach; the muscles twitch under his touch with excitement and you can't decide what you want first.
The hand moves back up, fingers flick at the nipple that Lex isn't sucking, reminding you that it was never your choice to make.
You work your own hand under Lex's shirt, skate over his flushed skin. You reach for his head, shaping your fingers to the curves. There aren't enough hands, you think. Lex's fingers are wet and unforgiving on your nipples. Your own hands in his shirt and on his head are making Lex moan deep in his throat and it's still not enough.
Before you can move to push Lex to the floor, he straightens, gives you a grin, and sinks to his knees himself. You keep your hands at his head, but try to behave, letting your fingers only ghost over his smooth scalp and tug his earlobe playfully.
You bounce on your feet like an eager child but maybe when sex is involved that's not the best analogy. His laugh rises through the muffled silence and rings in your ears.
"Relax, Clark," he says and holds your hips still.
Lex leans forward, rubs his nose against the bulge in your pants, having as much fun outside the leather as you've been having inside. But it's only moment. You're still in a bathroom in a club and Lex wastes no more time, unzipping your pants and pushing your underwear just off your hips.
Your cock springs, eager, into Lex's waiting hand. He curls his fingers around the hard length, just holding for a brief moment, before stroking upwards. Lex grips just tight enough for a warm burn of friction with every movement. Your hips threaten to thrust forward, but he gets his other hand to your hip before you can disturb his rhythm.
It's too fast; you can feel the heat stirring in your stomach. You roll your head against the wall, bite your lip to keep the loudest noises inside. There's the breath again, cool on the wet head of your leaking cock. You keep your eyes closed; it's all too fast, and seeing Lex taking you in his mouth has never helped it come slower.
You feel only the tip of his tongue, tasting, then lapping softly at the head. You lick your lips, panting heavily as Lex takes in more, sucks gently. Your hand goes to the back of his skull, but you told yourself that you would behave.
One hand firm at the base of your cock with Lex's head bobbing up and down; another hand caressing down your back, under the leather pants to press against your tight opening. There's one tense second and then your pulsing, hot, wet, into Lex's mouth. He swallows everything as the orgasm moves through you. Lex draws the sensation out longer with a rough, licking tongue. Then, with gentle hands, he tucks you back in, zipping your pants carefully.
You find your strength and pull him up to share a deep, tangy kiss. Thank you comes with stroking hands and tongues instead of words. Lex looks up at you with hooded eyes; you kiss each one. He's still hard, but someone's turned the volume up and you can hear the people right outside the door.
"We'll do you later," you say into Lex's ear. "I think someone wants to use the stall."
Everything is new tonight, even your own skin. This isn't Clark Kent bouncing in the middle of a sweaty dance floor. A pair of leather pants and a little glitter on your cheeks, a costume to hide the Kansas farmboy. It's your new identity, secret, except for Lex in your arms who knows you better than anyone.
Lex promised you this. This is the world outside, not as scary as you once thought. It's filled with music and lights, love and Lex, and a place to sleep when the night is over.