A

Clark

Kent

Seduction

Using

Garden

Vegetables

by

Boots

Clark double-checked the order list in his hand and raised his eyebrows, he stopped the delivery truck, got out the door and unloaded two heavy, muddy bags. Moving both under one arm as he vaulted the high iron gates.

"Clark," Lex looked up casually, mid-stroke, and smiled. "Good to see you, I was getting anxious."

Clark leaned against the kitchen wall and shifted his weight from one foot to another, grinned slowly and tucked both hands in his jeans. "You made a 'very urgent' order."

"Yes Clark, yes I did," Lex pushed away the keypad and stood up, his gaze swept over Clark intensely.

He took in the mussed hair and rather dirty face shining with a sweaty sheen. And what looked like flakes of fire and gold in Clark's hair, fascinating. Lex's hands rubbed themselves together, until Lex looked down and caught himself. "Sorry to drag you away from the farm on such short notice, but you see I've run out of . . . and I really needed an urgent supply of fresh Kent Farm . . ." Lex hesitated.

"Onions. 80 pounds of onions," Clark rubbed at a hole on his old flannel shirttail, grimacing. "You really don't mind fumigating your dinner guests huh?"

Lex bit his cheek, giving his face a hallowed look, pale coloured eyelids fell over his eyes a couple of times, rolled back like a slick of white-milk-chocolate. "Pickled onions, just for me, no one else, don't get enough visitors to worry about my breath."

Clark tilted his head and moved away from the door, stepping further into the kitchen, which was cosy and sunny, unlike the rest of the castle. Revealing two lumped piles that reached as high as Clark's waist. "That's good," Clark smiled. "Here they are then, one bag's white and one's brown, for variety, that'll be um . . . $8.95, with your frequent buyer discount. "

Lex looked at Clark blankly. Clark looked left and right. Lex rubbed at the back of his head, Lex sat back down behind the kitchen counter, Lex laughed. "Well, and this is really funny Clark, so bare with me."

Clark nodded amicably.

"The thing is, ha ha," Lex patted his Gucci-casual-wear-slim-charcoal-pants, sans pockets. "I don't carry cash on me. Really rich people don't, it's considered in bad taste, you know."

Clark looked at Lex darkly through his lashes.

"But, don't I have really good credit in this town?" Lex said beseechingly, Clark noted that Lex's neck was turning the light pink shade of strawberry yoghurt.

Clark sighed. "I'm really sorry Lex, but my dad's not going to be happy with me if I . . . I mean, credit: 'belief or confidence in person, words or actions'," oops, super-memorised the Oxford Pocket dictionary. Clark gave Lex his begging, please don't make this harder, look back.

"But Clark, I need those onions!" Lex raised his voice. "I demand that I have these onions, if it was anyone else your parents would think it was a kind gesture wouldn't they, now take pity on the poor, needy, single-child-heir to a multi-billionaire, already," Lex trailed off, no matter the spin, a Luthor did not look convincing painted victims.

Clark bent down to hull the bags back on his shoulder.

"Freeze!" Lex stepped back and pulled his computer over. "Stay like that, don't move."

Clark obeyed, legs spread, knees bent slightly, buttocks clenched and body leaning forward, hand clasping.

"I'll pay through the internet. Okay?" Lex tapped at the keys, taking it out of screensaver mode.

Clark considered this, through the corner of his eye he saw Lex glaring at his face intently, noticed the subtle parting of Lex's lips which suggested to Clark, oddly, the lovely texture of raw mozzarella. Clark's eyes sparkled even as he shook his head. "No. How would I know for sure you did? And didn't just, type a couple of things into Notepad or something? Words such as 'Clark is so stupid he believed I was paying the bill'". Clark crossed his arms before his chest.

"That is a good point," Lex agreed slowly, his words slurring as a fury of thoughts and activity swept through the blackness behind his pupils. Patiently Clark waited, until the lights came on bright as a supernova. "Why don't you come here, to keep an eye on me, paying?"

Clark straightened himself and walked around the bench, standing close to Lex's back. Lex was perched on a tall barstool, he hunched forward and reached for the keyboard.

"I can't see, Lex," Clark's soft voice next to his ear sent goose bumps down Lex's arms, and the phantom sensation of raised hair. "Your head's in the way."

Lex turned his head sharply, seeing Clark's face right next to his, it was very clear that Clark, from this intimate position, could see the screen just as well as Lex could, and there were two spots of red in Clark's cheekbones. God, two roses in Clark's cheeks, and frightened eyes transfixed at the screen, too scared to look back at him. Lex swallowed thickly. He was not. Not going to. Who was he kidding, yes he was. "That's why they are called laptops." Lex's own voiced sounded like it was drifting back from outer space, deep with a great sense of doom. "To be operated from the lap."

"I er," Clark was having difficulty getting the words out too. "did hear something like that."

Too quickly, Lex slid backwards on the stool and opened his legs wide, he concentrated on studying Clark's hair, and letting the rest of him turn into a blur of winter-tan autumn-country, so that the solid reality of Clark's body would not send him screaming, with terror, and in ecstasy.

Clark felt like a mountain, a bovine, a massive-arsed giant as he stepped into the small gap between Lex and the counter, and awkwardly, gingerly breeched Lex's very personal-space. Lex hoped to be inviting about it, he gestured with his hand in an attempt to indicate 'roominess' and 'park yourself right here Clark' but to no effect because Clark never looked back. Helplessly, Lex put his hands either side of Clark's hips and tugged him in, jaw open in disbelief at what his own insubordinate, brave, wonderful hands were doing. What they just took.

Clark felt the touching of his buttocks to Lex's crotch as if the meeting of continents over a glacial divide, and the warmth and comfort wafted upon impact like butter. Clark closed his eyes unable to stand the geology, the dairy products and the quietness in the room.

"Onion skin," whispered Lex with such revelry. The flakes of candy pink which was laurel gold were actually flakes of dead crispy skin caught in Clark's hair, and it made him look so messy, Lex pulled one off and crushed it to powder between forefinger and thumb. "Wow."

Clark twitched at the feel of quick thieving fingers in his hair, he forgot to hold himself rigid on his thighs, sat on Lex and upon remembering that Lex could be crushed, scrambled to get off, the stool shook dangerously as they flailed back and forth, Clark's right hand automatically shot back to seek purchase on Lex's thigh.

"Are you, Clark, looking for the mouse?" Lex rocked with Clark through the turbulence, arms strangled around Clark's waist.

Clark realised where his hand was groping and, super-speed, slapped both down on the keyboard to keep them off. Wailing in silence and telling Lex "There is no mouse!"

"It's on the keyboard," one of Lex's hands moved up Clark's chest then back down, one stayed on his abdomen. "The black square, put your index finger on it." The roaming hand swept over Clark's back, and Clark got the impression of Lex's face in his left shoulder and a soft exhalation followed by a deep sniff.

"That space is mapped by sensors and the movement of your finger will be tracked, like a mouse," Lex explained, Clark felt nails scraping back and forth over the bit of his flesh by the waistband of his jeans.

"Digitally?" Clark asked.

"Digitally," Lex replied, placing his hand inside Clark's jeans, inside briefs, his middle-finger slipping right down the moist indentation and Clark barked an outraged laugh and fell forward. The screen broke off the laptop with a smart little click and Lex swore and wrenched Clark back by the hand on his abdomen, pressing hard and flush and hard against Clark's arse, and came. Hissing and whispering, Lex knocked the ejaculating bundle of his cock against Clark. Clark wrenched Lex's arm down and humped against the wrist, and was momentarily distracted by the insertion of Lex's middle-finger into his anus, did not find that particularly pleasurable without lubrication or experience, but gritted his teeth and orgasmed nonetheless.

For a while the world ended. Faded to black, brightened to white.

"I broke the laptop," Clark moaned.

My finger is in Clark, thought Lex. I cannot go through the rest of my life with it there, so why is it still there? "Giveitback."

"Just when I learned how a laptop works," Clark added.

Lex moved his finger around experimentally, maybe it was stuck.

Clark winced. "Because, before this, I had no idea what a laptop was. Farmers son, hardly can operate a light switch." Sarcasm and denial, Lex and Clark.

Was Clark clenching? Lex rotated his finger slowly, Clark whimpered, Lex yanked and pulled out with a wet little pop.

"Thanks for showing me how to use one," Clark pulled haphazardly at his pants and turned to bestow a bright smile on Lex.

Lex took a couple of steps back, and damp crotch and broken heart notwithstanding, went along with Clark. "Just don't tell anyone that I taught you, like this."

Clark grinned again, tapping the side of his nose.

"The account?" relying on the afterglow, Lex mentioned hesitantly.

Clark looked startled at that, and Lex savoured the flicker of uncertainty over Clark's features, but it disappeared in the blink of an eye, did nothing ever leave a mark on this boy?

"Consider it settled," Clark smiled again.

"Done," said Lex.

Clark smiled some more, waved goodbye and left.

As he exited through the kitchen doors, he shook his head like a dog shook off fleas and water after a swim.

Lex studied the momentary shower of onion skin floating lazily in the air as if a bleak metaphor could finally reveal to him what had happened but it was only something oddly pretty to look at.

THE END