The Rut

DC and WB own them. No infringement intended.

This is sappy. Like, really *really* sappy. Don't say I didn't warn you *g*.

Many, many thanks to my smoochie.

Clex, rated R. Future fic.

The kiss is deep, messy and slow. Sometimes it's all of those things and sometimes it's none of them. Sometimes their lips barely touch, mouths grabbing uselessly for each other. Sometimes it's a brief touch, or their tongues brush together, or Clark's deliberately eaten garlic again because he thinks it's funny.

But it's Clark. So even if it's all of those things or none of those things, it's always perfect.

Lex pulls up from this kiss now to study the man beneath him. Clark is beautiful - there's no other word for it. He is always so, so beautiful.

Always.

"Clark," Lex leans in for another kiss before continuing. This is something that's been on his mind for quite some time. "Do you think we're in a rut?"

The lazy desire that had been on Clark's face is gone so fast Lex wonders if it's a new superpower. Now, Clark just blinks at him as if to say "What are you *talking* about?".

Not that Clark says that; he just keeps blinking as if communicating via some sort of eyelash morse code.

Lex frowns. "What is it?"

Evidently giving up on his newfound means of conversation, Clark rolls his eyes. "Lex, you have your *finger* in my *ass*."

Lex is well aware of that fact, and wiggles the finger in question. Clark shudders.

Then he realises what Clark is probably getting it. "So probably not the best time for me to say that, then." It does seem rather obvious when he says it out loud.

"Yesss," Clark hisses. "Thank you. You're great for my self esteem, you know that?"

The 'shiny new' phase of their relationship had passed by quickly. Clark knows already that there are certain foods that make Lex gassy, just as Lex knows by now to never, ever be in the same room when Clark is cutting his toe nails.

Then there's the "We have to be absolutely open and honest about how we feel because Mom and Dad swear by it" part of their relationship. Lex still isn't used to that part after so many years of being Lionel Luthor's son, where emotions were just more pieces on the chessboard, waiting to be manipulated. Still, Lex knows that drawing on what experience he *does* have in this area will make Clark happy.

And then he finds the words.

"I still want to fuck you."

Clark stares. Then shakes his head. Grins. Pulls Lex down for another kiss, gasping when the finger moves again. When the kiss ends Clark nuzzles against the side of Lex's face. "We'll make a Kent out of you yet."

Lex still hasn't decided if that's a good thing.

Clark is already up when Lex wakes the next morning, so Lex heads straight to the bathroom for a shower. Fogged up mirrors and water droplets inside the shower are proof that Clark had already been there.

Sometimes Clark joins him even when he's already had his shower, but Lex is left alone today. He knows Clark is working on a big story.

By the time Lex emerges fully dressed from the bedroom (drawn by the smell of coffee as much as anything else), Clark is sitting at the kitchen table, not so much eating as he is shovelling cereal into his mouth as he reads through his notes.

Picking up the mug of coffee waiting for him on the counter, Lex sips at it appreciatively before turning to study Clark. It feels...good, being with Clark. Being here *with* Clark. It feels...home-y.

It also feels like something's missing.

"Clark?"

Milk-stained lips turn towards him and Lex wonders how Lois ever lets Clark eat in public.

"Yeah, Lex?"

"I meant what I said last night. Do you think we're in a rut?"

Not looking especially surprised that Lex is still talking about this, Clark places his bowl carefully down on the table, letting his spoon clank inside. "Honestly?" Clark shakes his head, giving him his full attention. "No. I don't think we're in a rut. But if *you* think we are then obviously something's up."

Sighing, Lex crosses the small space to the table and slides into the chair closest to Clark's. "I don't *know* that's what it is, it's just..." He really can't explain it, and quite frankly it's annoying the hell out of him. "...something feels...off."

Clark tips his head to one side, eyes narrowing as looks at him. "Are you happy?"

God, yes. "Of course I'm happy. I'm surprised you even have to ask."

The corners of Clark's eyes crinkle, or at least they would if he had any damn wrinkles. "You're not exactly the most demonstrative guy, Lex."

Well, he has to admit that's true. "It's probably just a passing thing," Lex offers. "Adjusting. This is now officially the longest I've ever been in a relationship with anyone. I'm sure it's nothing."

Clark hmm's, a behaviour he's picked up from Lex. "We'll see. Give it some more thought. And then when you get home tonight we'll 'rut' like rabbits all over the kitchen."

Chuckling, Lex leans in for a kiss. "I like that plan." Pulling back he feels the tug of hunger at his stomach. "And I'll think I'll live dangerously today and have something else for breakfast." Something else. Something different. That sounds good. "In fact I think I'll risk suicide and have whatever you're having."

"You're so *brave*," Clark breathes, fluttering his eyelashes. He can be incredibly gay sometimes.

Lifting his coffee back up to his mouth, Lex inspects the contents of Clark's bowl.

And sees Froot Loops.

"Then again, maybe I'll see what else we have..."

Caught in traffic on the way to work, he decides to test out the text message feature on his new phone. He sends two to Clark. They both say the same thing.

When he gets one back that reads PLS STP FREAKNG OUT OK? :-/ he can only deduce that Clark is either very drunk or very frustrated.

Lex's work day is very organised. Most of the time he knows exactly what he's going to do and exactly when he's going to do it. There are the occasional surprises, of course. Sudden flights to other parts of the world, emergency meetings, Linda - his secretary - announcing she's pregnant. Some days Clark or Superman turns up - Lex isn't picky - and fucks him on the floor, on the sofa, against his desk, *daring* him not to cry out.

He usually does, which is why Linda gets such a big bonus every year.

Lex doesn't know what he's going to do when she goes on maternity leave.

But for the most part he knows what he's going to be doing every day, and he likes that. The sense of familiarity. There's a comfort to be found in knowing what's going to happen that he finds very appealing. Maybe because it's so different from what he used to know.

Still, Linda's good at her job and when he asks her to order in something different for lunch she does it without so much as raising an eyebrow.

He pokes at his chicken salad a short while later, drums his fingers on the edge of his desk, and finally gives in and picks up the phone.

Speed dial #1 puts him through immediately.

"Daily Planet, Clark Kent speaking."

Lex doesn't smile. "Clark,"

The sigh is audible even over the phone. "No, we are not in a rut."

Stiffening in his chair, Lex stops drumming his fingers. "You don't know that's what I was going to ask."

"Lex," he can hear Clark tapping away at his keyboard, "you've sent me two text messages, three faxes, five e-mails, and when that courier turned up with a package for me earlier I half-expected it to be from you."

Eyeing the Post-It note reminding him to remind Linda to contact FedEx, Lex discreetly screws it up and throws it in the trash can. "That's ridiculous, Clark." He wonders how guilty he sounds. He's got much worse at lying in the last few months.

"I know you're confused at the moment, Lex, it's just...it's a little much."

Lex really shouldn't feel like his heart is breaking. The lettuce in his salad is wilting pathetically. "Sorry."

"Don't..." Clark curses. "Lex, I'm not trying to make you feel bad. Look, I'm going to lunch soon. Do you want me to come over?"

Yes. Yes, Clark could come here for lunch and Lex would just give Linda another raise. "That'd be nice, Clark."

"Okay." Clark sounds relieved. "I just have to finish this up. I'll be there soon." Clark's equivilant of soon could be as little as two minutes. "And Lex?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

Lex smiles to himself, closing his eyes, when he hears Lois teasing Clark in the background. He still doesn't know why Clark hasn't let him have her killed yet.

"Do you think it's work?"

They're on the sofa in Lex's office; Clark at one end with Lex stretched out and his head in Clark's lap. Clark had insisted and Lex isn't really complaining. Sex, apparently, is not on the menu. But that's okay right now.

"I mean, are you still enjoying it?" Clark continues.

"Definitely." It was still challenging, frustrating, and sometimes annoying as hell. Just what he looked for in a job. "It's pretty much my dream job."

"Okay," Clark's thumb rubs absently along the side of Lex's head, "and what about other stuff? Personal stuff? *Us* stuff?"

Lex looks up at Clark's face, seeing the fear, and responds immediately. "I told you this morning, Clark. There's nothing wrong there either. Nothing wrong at *all*."

Clark holds his gaze for a while before smiling, apparently reassured. "All right. So, work is great. Personal life is great. What else is there?"

Work is great. Personal life is great.

It was true. It was all great, *everything* was great and he was *happy*...

...oh.

*Oh*.

Well, he feels monumentally stupid.

Doesn't stop him from grinning, though.

"Lex?"

Doesn't stop Clark looking at him like he's Jack Nicholson in One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, either.

Not that he cares. "Clark?" Reaching a hand up and behind Clark's neck, Lex tugs gently and Clark lets himself be pulled down. A long, slow kiss with plenty of tongue, mimicking the long, slow fucking he's now planning later instead of the rabbit-fest Clark had originally suggested. Needing air he breaks the kiss, but his lips are still mostly against Clark's when he whispers the words.

"I'm happy."

Yeah, he decides with another grin. He really is.

~FINIS