This wonderful cover was made by lilwitchy. Eeeeeeee! *hugs* Thank you!

Inspiration for Dummies
by Suz suzvoy@tesco.net

Disclaimer - WB and DC own 'em.

Oh my God! I WROTE SOMETHING! God, I haven't been able to write anything for *ages*. I really hope you like it.

Clex, very very sappy. Very.

Many thanks to nel. Feedback would rock.

********

The computer was mocking him; Clark was sure of it. The cursor blinked away merrily, no doubt delighted that it hadn't moved for the last five minutes. Before that, it'd gone forward a few characters only to delete back over them.

Clark *hated* writer's block.

He wanted it to be something tangible, physical; something he could beat into submission and force it to get his assignment done, but nooooooo. Clark's muse - or whatever it was that actually produced his work - remained stubbornly uninspired.

There was only one thing to do.

Ten seconds later he was opening the door to the penthouse and stepping inside. Immediately picking up the sound of the shower running, he headed for Lex's bedroom and promptly tugged off his sneakers and sprawled across the bed in a gloomy slump.

Eventually hearing the water shut off, Clark complained loudly, "I can't write!"

He could almost see the pause.

"Clark?"

"I can't write, Lex," he repeated, and even without his enhanced hearing he swore he could hear Lex muttering.

Not long after that the bathroom door clicked open and Lex emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist. "You know perfectly well you can write," he began as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "And very well, I might add." The tone was clipped as if he was trying to sound annoyed, but the fond expression was a dead giveaway.

"Right," Clark snorted, "try reading what I've written so far," all two lines of it, "and *then* we'll talk."

Tipping one side of his mouth up into a smile, Lex studied him. "What's the assignment?"

"A thousand word story about love."

Lex's eyebrows went up. "Love?"

"Yup."

"Any particular kind of love?"

"No. Wasn't specified."

Turning his head slightly and concentrating as if studying something far away, Lex nodded to himself slowly. "Well, that's a very broad area, Clark. Surely you can find something to write about." Moving his head back, he met Clark's gaze and smiled. "There's romantic love, familial love, the love you have for a pet. The love of a good piece of music, your favourite book, or your favourite day of year." He continued, apparently really getting into it.

Clark grinned as Lex kept talking.

"There's the love of your favourite food or drink, the love of your favourite comic book. The love of-"

"-a dorky alien and his geeky best friend?"

Lex pursed his lips together.

Clark blinked innocently.

"Well," Lex replied eventually, "personally I'd call it the love of a particularly annoying alien with a lousy sense of humour and his very wise and well educated best friend, but I suppose one is as good as the other."

Clark stuck his tongue out, waiting until Lex snickered before poking him gently in the side. "You'll get cold like this. You should change."

"If you *insist*," Lex relented, sighing dramatically as he stood and started rooting through the drawers. Finding an old Met U shirt and a pair of sweat pants, he pulled the pants most of the way on before letting the towel drop to the floor and finishing up getting dressed.

It still amazed Clark sometimes that he, Clark Kent, got to see Lex Luthor like this - in a ratty old shirt and comfortable sweat pants. No one else got to. Not even any of those 'friends' Lex brought home sometimes. They never lasted long; certainly never long enough to discover that Lex ever wore anything other than Armani.

Smiling as Lex turned back towards him and bent down to pick up the towel, Clark was suddenly hit by a rush of...

...well...

...love.

Not brotherly love. Not dorky alien and geeky best friend love - though that was still a part of it.

This was new.

Or maybe it wasn't because when he thought about it, that feeling had been there for a while and he'd gotten his different kinds of love mixed up, or ignored it, but now, watching Lex stand back up, there was absolutely no doubt that Clark was definitely *in* love.

"Oh," he said softly, making Lex frown at him.

"Everything all right?" he asked with gentle concern, stepping towards the bed.

Love - or what he'd thought was love - had always been awkward for Clark before. He'd had so much to hide about himself but Lex already knew everything, and when Clark wanted something he *went* for it.

So he did.

Rolled until he was lying on his back, propping himself up on his elbows. Bent his right knee and pressed his foot against the bed. Held Lex's gaze and said deliberately, seriously, "Can I write about you?"

Lex's hands tightened around the towel. "You have to write about love."

"Yes."

"And you want to write about me." It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

Lex inched closer to the bed, staring back at Clark. "What are you going to say?"

And it was exhilirating, terrifying, being the subject of all that *focus*. He was flushing but he was *not* going to look away. College had taught him to risk doing what he wanted to, even if it meant risking embarrassment. "That I loved you first as a friend. My best friend. And I always will. But I also love you..." he paused, watching Lex's head tilt to one side slightly and was it supposed to be this easy? "...differently."

The towel dropped to the floor.

Clark's heart sped up.

Head still tipped to one side, Lex's eyes narrowed. "Are you saying...?"

Here it went. Clark licked his lips. Let out a big gust of air. Found the nerve. "Yeah."

Climbing onto the bed slowly, Lex gave no other outward reaction until he was stretched out beside Clark. Mere millimetres between their bodies, Lex reached out a hand and gently brushed his fingers over Clark's mouth.

Arms no longer supporting him at all, Clark fell back on the bed. Partly relief, partly...not.

"I could write poetry about these," Lex murmured quietly, before letting his hand trail down over Clark's body, easily brushing over Clark's nipples though his shirt. "A haiku about these. And as for *this*," his hand shot down suddenly, not grabbing but firmly cupping Clark through his jeans...which was really, really nice, "well I think this deserves it's very own novel, don't you?" His eyes were warm, teasing.

Clark snorted. "Jerk."

"Dork," Lex replied, leaning closer.

"Geek."

"Clark-"

Lips brushed together, slow and firm, warm and wet, and Clark was reaching out to pull Lex closer. This was *so* the best chance he'd ever taken.

"Clark," Lex gasped, pulling away.

His neck looked really biteable. Clark nipped gently, pleased when Lex shuddered. "Mmm?"

"If you can't write your assignment after this, I'm going to be really offended."

Breaking away from Lex's neck to laugh, Clark shook his head then rolled them until Lex's smiling face was beneath him. "I love you, you idiot."

And Lex's face was just priceless.

Clark didn't get a chance to say much, after that.

But words were overrated anyway.

~FINIS