Title:  SECRET RECIPE
Author:  Janet F. Caires-Lesgold
Feedback to:  jfc013@merle.it.northwestern.edu
Archive:  Mailing list archives only--others please ask permission!
Category:  Story, romance, dialogue - sequel to "The Taste of Caviar"
Spoilers:  Not many, if any
Rating:  Very strong R for language and sexual situations
Pairing:  Clark/Lex
Summary:  Lex plots his next move, but Clark beats him to it

DISCLAIMER:  These characters do not belong to me.  Smallville is the
property of Alfred Gough, Miles Millar, Tollin-Robbins Productions, and
Warner Bros. Television, and based upon characters originally created by
Jerome Siegel and Joe Shuster.  This story is just for the entertainment of
my online friends and myself, not for any profit.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  This piece is the third of my Smallville stories, following
"First Fruit" and "The Taste of Caviar", which can be found on my webpage at
www.enteract.com/~jfc/stories.html - You don't have to read them first, but
it might help.

DEDICATION:  For Tiff, but aren't they all?  Also, a slap of the wrist to
HGTV, whose coverage of the 2002 Rose Parade the other day included footage
of anthuriums being emasculated on daytime TV.  Well, it *was* cable...


COPYRIGHT:  (C) Janet F. Caires-Lesgold                  January 4, 2002
            jfc013@merle.it.northwestern.edu
Please don't redistribute or alter this story in any way without the express
permission of the author.  Thank you very much.
_______________


Clark Kent likes flowers, and me.

This afternoon wasn't so much a revelation as proof.

Now I know:  it's not just wishful thinking.  There *is* something behind
the attention he pays to me, something beyond just being neighborly.

Good.  Just as I suspected.

My plan is working perfectly.  I thought he'd be more receptive if I went
shyly bearing gifts--hat in hand, so to speak.  Right first time.

I can't rush him, though.  He's so young, so inexperienced, so beautiful--

Hold it.  I just want to seduce him, claim him as mine.  If I let my heart
get involved in this, people could get hurt.

Mostly *me*.  Not good.

So I've kissed him, a noticeably not unwelcome advance.  The gauntlet has
been thrown down.  The match is on.  There are a couple of avenues open to
me now...

Damn.  The phone.  "Yes?"

"Mr. Luthor?  A Mr. Clark Kent for you."  Interesting.  *Very* interesting.
"Should I tell him you've retired for the evening?"

"No, no," I correct him, hoping I don't sound too eager.  "Put him on."  The
background noise changes, so I address my caller:  "Hello, Clark."

"Oh, there you are, Lex.  That was weird, getting your butler..."

"Secretary."

"Whatever.  Hey--I'm not calling too late, am I?  If I'm imposing, tell me.
I'll call back tomorrow..."

"Not at all.  You can call me anytime.  What's on your mind?"

"Um..."  He falls silent for a few moments, but I let him take his time.  "I
wanted to thank you again for the flowers..."

"You don't have to thank me.  They were merely a token of my
appreciation--you know that."  He doesn't speak again.  "What's the matter,
Clark?"

At last, he answers, "Did you mean what you said this afternoon?"

"I'm pretty sure I meant everything I said to you today.  Which part did you
have in mind?"

I think I can hear him gulp over the phone.  "The part about...  about
being, uh, *more* than friends?"

A-ha.  An avenue opens before me.  "Yes, Clark.  I remember that, and yes, I
meant every word of it.  What do you want?"

"I don't know..."  He almost whines like a sleepy little boy.  I think I
like it.

"Why did you call me?"

"I...  I couldn't sleep."  There's more, but he's not telling me yet.

"Why couldn't you sleep, Clark?  Were you thinking about this afternoon?"

"Yeah."

"Were you thinking about what I said?"

"Uh-huh..."

"Did you come up with an answer for me?"

"What?"

"I asked you a question today.  Would you like to be more than friends?"

Another long pause.  "I think so...  Yeah."

I cannot conceal my amusement, or my interest.  "Yeah?"

"Yeah."  His voice has a smile in it.  This is fun.

Anything further from him is slow in arriving.  "Was there something else?"

He swallows hard.  "Before you left..."

"Yes?"

"You, uh...  kissed me."

There it is--the reason he can't sleep.  "Yes, Clark.  Yes, I did."  It's a
vivid memory, sweet and sentimental--everything a first kiss should be.  "If
I'm not mistaken, you kissed me back, didn't you?"

"Yeah."  It's a barely-perceptible whisper, full of promise.

"Did you like it when I kissed you?"

"Yessss..."  The sibilance of the word coils around my mouth almost like his
tongue might someday.

"Do you want to kiss me again sometime?"

"God, yes!"

His enthusiasm is definitely arousing, but I must play him very slowly and
gently.  It won't do to break him down too quickly.  "Is that why you
called?"

"Um, yeah."  He grows quiet yet again.  Eventually, he speaks.  "Lex?"

"Yes, Clark?"

"There was something I wanted to ask you..."

The truth comes out.  "Go ahead."

"Uhhhh..."  God, he is so young!

"It's okay, Clark.  Tell me what you want."

"I know it's late, but..."

"Yes?"

"Can I come over?"

Hmmmm...  A playdate.  Yes, it's late, but it's also early--far too early
for me to take everything I want from him.  Time to stall him.  "You're
right--it *is* awfully late.  Isn't it a school night for you?"

"It won't take me but a few minutes to get there.  Would it be okay?"

"Hold your horses there, speedy!  I imagine we've *both* got to get up
pretty early tomorrow morning.  What did you have in mind?"

"I...  I want to kiss you again."

"That's all?  Just a goodnight kiss?"

"No..."  I swear I can hear him blush.

"What is it, Clark?  What do you really want?"

"Do you want to kiss me some more?"

"Yes, I do.  I want to, very much.  So just what are you asking?"

"I could come over, and we could kiss for awhile..."

I can't help myself--I laugh out loud.  "You want to come over here and make
out?"

His voice has a slightly harder edge to it now.  "Uh, maybe..."

Oops.  I've offended him.  We can't have that.  "I'm sorry, Clark.  I didn't
mean to laugh.  You just caught me by surprise.  It's been a long time since
I've made out with anyone. I must have been fifteen at the time."

He's still hurt.  "I *am* fifteen."

Fuck!  I forgot!  Breaking sodomy laws is going to be bad enough--the last
thing I need is for Jonathan Kent to bring me up on pederasty charges.  I'll
have to stall longer than I thought--until his next birthday at least.  How
to get out of this gracefully now but keep the flames burning for later...
Ah!  I have an idea.  "God, Clark--I always forget you're just in high
school.  You're so mature for your age.  Thank you for reminding me.  We
could get in real trouble..."

Obviously, he still hasn't quite figured everything out yet.  "We could get
in trouble for making out?"

Perhaps a different angle.  "Have you ever made out with a girl, Clark?"

"Um, yeah--at a party...  Once."  I can tell it wasn't with Lana, or any
other girl he really liked.

"Do you know how girls can make out for awhile, but then they can walk away
like nothing happened, but you're still turned on?"

"Yeah."  Touche'.

"You've never made out with a guy, have you?"

"No."  Sheepish, but still a little defensive.  Advantage: Luthor.

"I've got news for you.  You know how you felt when that girl walked away
after making out with you, right?"

"Yeah..."

"Guys don't walk away from it, Clark.  *I* certainly can't.  If you started
something with me, I'd need to finish it."  So I'm exaggerating a little.
He has no way of knowing that.

"What do you mean?"

I pause for emphasis.  "I mean, if you got me all turned on, I'd want you to
make me come."

He evidently hasn't considered the seriousness of his suggestion, and the
sudden realization of this takes him aback.  His voice is actually shaking a
little when he asks, "What would you make me do?"

Oh, God.  I never meant to frighten him.  Time to back off a bit.  "I
wouldn't *make* you do anything."  Without waiting to see if he believes me,
I continue.  "You'd probably want to come, too, so I imagine we could think
of something for us to do together.  I don't want to scare you or hurt you."
*That* at least is the truth.

"I don't think you could hurt me.  I'm pretty tough."  He sure doesn't
*sound* tough, but I don't disagree with him.  "So you're saying we could
get in trouble for fooling around?"

"Yes, that's what I'm saying.  You're underage.  Maybe after you're
sixteen..."

Brightening audibly, he says, "I'll be sixteen in four months!  Can we do
stuff then?"

Trying to make him hear my smile, I answer, "Definitely.  We could probably
do some "stuff" earlier than that, but not tonight, Clark.  It's very
late..."

"But..."  His voice is unnaturally loud.

"But what?"

Much more softly, he proceeds.  "I really don't think I could sleep now."

"What's wrong?"

"Um..."  He's cute when he doesn't want to use naughty words.

I practically whisper, "Are you too hard to sleep?"

He whispers back, "Yes."

A little shudder of victory shimmies down my spine.  "Do you need to come?"

"Uh-huh."  He sounds tired and strung out and uncomfortable.  In spite of my
desires, right now I just want to help him feel better.

"Let me do something for you.  Can I do that?"

"Okay."  Exhaustion wins out over hesitance.  Point in my favor.

"Are you in bed?"

"No, I'm in the kitchen.  The signal to the cordless phone doesn't reach up
there."

"Is there someplace in the house where the phone reaches and you can lie
down?"

"Let me go over to the couch."  I hear him walk from one room to another.

"Are your parents asleep?  Will they be able to hear you?"

"I'll talk quietly."

I grin to myself.  "I mean, do you make a lot of noise when you come?"

"Oh."  He chuckles softly.  "Sometimes.  I'll make sure I don't wake anybody
up."

"Good.  What are you wearing?"

"How much do you charge per minute, Lex?"

"Cut it out!  Do you want to come or not?"

"Sorry," he apologizes, more relaxed now.  "I'm in pajama bottoms and a
t-shirt."

"If I were there right now, what would you do to me?"

"I'd kiss you."

"With tongue?"  I'm kidding, and he knows it, but I'm enjoying this.

"Yessss..."  Apparently, he's enjoying this, too.

"Are you touching yourself now, Clark?"

"Shouldn't I?"

"Sure.  That's the whole point.  Do you want it to be my hand reaching into
your pajamas?"

"Yes, Lex."

"Do you want me to hold your cock like you're doing right now?"

"Yeah..."

"I'll bet you're really hot and hard, aren't you?"

"Yeah..."

"I like touching you, Clark.  Am I stroking you fast enough?"

"Oh, yes..."

"Does that feel good?"

"Oh... yeah..."

"Would you like me to suck you off?"

"Oh, God..."

"Can you feel my mouth on your cock?"

"Uh-huh..."

"You taste so good, Clark...  I want you to come down my throat.  Can you
come for me?"

He is breathing hard and reduced to wordless grunting with a couple of moans
tossed in.

"It's okay--I want to hear you come."

"Lex!" he begins to call out, and his voice is immediately muffled, like
he's turned his head to shout into the sofa cushions.  I can just make out
his cries of "Oh, *ffffuck*, Lex!  Oh, Gahhhhd..."

I give him a couple moments to wind down, just listening to him breathe for
awhile.  That didn't take longer than a minute or two.  Another nice thing
about being young...  Finally, I dare to ask, "Are you all right?"

He gives a deliciously satisfied groan.  "Ugh.  I'm gonna have to put on a
clean shirt."

"But are you...?"

"Fine.  Good.  Great, really.  Thank you.  That felt really good.  I
never...  I mean, it was better than just my hand alone, y'know?"

"You're welcome.  Do you think you can sleep now?"

"Yeah, provided I can walk upstairs.  My knees are a little wobbly."

I smile over the phone again.  "Then my work here is done."

"I just wish you were here now," he says around a yawn.

"Why now?

"You *did* say something about a goodnight kiss..."

I picture the glint of the full moon off his perfect grinning teeth, and
reply, "Oh, Clark!  If only...  You get some sleep, okay?  We'll get
together really soon.  I promise."

"Okay.  Good night, Lex.  I'm glad I called.  I'll talk to you later..."

As I hang up the phone, I realize I'm glad he called, too.  Eyes on the
prize, and all that.  Damn, it's late, and, uh, something's come up I need
to handle before I go to sleep.  Clark's voice, shouting my name when he
came, has had a definite effect on me.

Clark likes me.

The plan is working.

Maybe too well.


THE END

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