Clark's Folly, by Glacis. Rated NC17, no copyright infringement intended. For MG with love in celebration of attaining the age to go adventuring.

There were some things about being obscenely rich that were extremely enjoyable.

Well, truth be told, there were many. But at the moment, tension wrapping his muscles tighter than barbed wire round the axle of his drowned Porsche, Lex decided that the Folly was by far the best.

A Scottish castle wasn't the only inspired madness his father had perpetrated on the innocent Kansas farm country he'd made his own, even though he never cared to stay there. The Folly, located in the center of what the locals charmingly called the 'back forty' which was in actuality the back hectare, was a maze of artfully created streams, waterfalls, mossy rock formations, and at the heart of it, a fully-functional in-built natural-appearing hot spring.

Better than a steam room any day of the week.

Standing on the ridged stone platform to the side of the bubbling spring, thick towels and royal satin robe set to the side for him to use before returning to the castle, Lex slowly stripped off his sweats, dripping from a prolonged workout in the weight room that had done nothing to ease his vexation with his current situation. His father, his business acquaintances, his plant personnel and his fencing instructor had taken turns pissing him off that day, and enough was quite simply enough.

He was going to sit in the spring, give himself up to the hot bubbles caressing him from clenched toes to naked scalp, and let the steam carry his troubles away. When he was sufficiently relaxed, he would return to his life and do his utmost to systematically destroy every person who had irritated him in the past week.

Or perhaps sleep the clock round.

The steaming water felt ridiculously good as it washed over his skin, the warmth slipping along tightened muscles and cramped joints until he could literally feel the tension flowing away. Resting his head against the pillow-soft moss coating the rock placed for that particular purpose at precisely the right angle to support his neck, Lex smiled softly, reaffirmed his enjoyment of material wealth, and let his mind wander.

Not unexpectedly, once his busy brain was freed from thoughts of business, tactics, ongoing experiments and plans for future world domination, the only thing he could think about was Clark Kent. His brow wrinkled for a moment, somewhat dismayed at his lack of discipline, since he'd told himself firmly he would wait until Clark came to him of his own accord -- or was eighteen, at which time Lex would be least culpable in the eyes of the court for corrupting a minor, even if he'd still have to keep a weather eye out for Jonathan's shotgun -- before beginning his courtship of the farmboy.

Of course, once he set his mind on seduction, he was utterly confident in success. Clark being his friend was a bonus. He'd never actually had an affair with someone he truly liked, since he couldn't remember ever truly liking anyone. Thinking further on it, he decided that fantasies were acceptable, in that they vented frustration and reduced pressure to act too soon. He would not undercut his strategy for seduction by allowing impatience to prompt his movements.

So he would dwell on thoughts of Clark, here in the steamy solitude of his hot spring, and when the time was right, his victory would be all the sweeter.

With that thought, he closed his eyes, dropped his hand to his chest, and smiled as his fingertips began to move. Over his nipples, plucking at them as Clark's lips would, pulling them gently out from his chest, skin sliding against skin as the steam beaded on it. When they were hard and aching, he allowed himself to continue, one hand roaming up along his throat, pressing the pulse there, seeing in his mind's eye Clark's flushed face as he lowered it to bite teasingly at the thin skin covering the racing beat, the other sliding down his chest to dip into his navel, then follow the thin trail of copper hair down to the thicker nest surrounding his cock.

The steam worked its wonder on his entire body, including his sac as it relaxed away from the cradle of his body, and he spent some time playing with it, rolling his balls side to side, stretching the furry skin then skimming his nails over it in different directions, sending goosebumps running over his skin. Sliding down a little in the water, he let his hand wander further back, dropping his other hand from his neck to his cock. Fingers pressed along the soft skin behind his balls, sending further shivers up his spine, as other fingers drifted over the head of his cock, leaking fluid only slightly less hot that the water surrounding him.

As his fingers quested further, playing about between his cheeks, skirting the hole and drawing back, his other hand slid down, gripping his cock firmly enough to create some friction, slicked by the slow drip from the head and the water lapping at his skin. By the time he allowed himself to breach the rim of his opening, his hand was moving roughly over his cock, jerking hard in time to the panting breaths echoing over the hiss of the water. His mouth open, eyes still closed, lost in the future of his fantasies, Lex felt Clark's mouth at his neck, Clark's hands on his cock, Clark's cock moving inside him, and screamed Clark's name as he came.

It was Thursday. Chores were done, homework was done, deliveries were done, and Clark was bored out of his mind.

Usually when he got this way, more often than he liked to admit, he went to the Beanery and hung out with his friends. Or surfed the Internet for stories of alien sightings or badly-written porn or Roswell slash. Or built a new fence or broke up granite blocks for the fun of it.

None of his usual pursuits appealed. Chloe and Lana were busy at the Torch -- at least that's what they said, although his eyes had seen through the work table that Lana's hand was up Chloe's skirt -- and told him to go away. Pete was on the field with Whitney, supposedly practicing football plays, although from what Clark had seen with his X-ray vision under the stands, if they tried moves like that on the field they'd be arrested. After that, he didn't need to surf the net for bad porn; he needed to see Lex. If only to see him, get a great mental image to replace the kinky one of Whitney going down on Pete, and go home to jerk off.

But Lex wasn't at the Beanery. Wasn't at the plant, not that he would be, of course, since it was after dinner, but Clark had hoped he'd be working late. Grabbing up a crate of apples as an excuse, trying hard to ignore his mom and dad who were having a relatively tame make-out session on the back-porch swing, he hollered, "Off to make deliveries! Be back late!"

His mother's "Thanks, dear!" was a little garbled, and he didn't want to know why, so he didn't look. He wondered how many other guys his age had a Fortress of Solitude, ostensibly so he could have a place of his own but in actuality his dad's way of hanging a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door. He supposed it was great that his mom and dad were still so much in love that they were, er, doing it, but when he hadn't ever done it, and it looked like all his friends were doing it, and the only person he wanted to do it with was a guy he couldn't find, well ... it got a little frustrating.

Idly wondering if married people and skanks with hidden agendas were the only straight people in Smallville, Clark slipped past the security cameras at the speed of light, apples and all, and vaulted the high gates with a single bound. Without spilling a single apple. Once in the Great Castle, thinking in capitals with a heavy accent of irony that did nothing to hide his envy, Clark wandered around looking for Lex.

Or a servant.

Or even a skanky Victoria.

Anybody.

Still absently carting the apples, he listened hard, and didn't heard a darned thing. Hightailing it through the entire castle at full speed took nearly two minutes, and there was nobody there. Not even a meteorite-painted invisible hostile. Just one lonely horny alien with a basket of apples and nobody to love.

Grinning at his own ridiculous thoughts, Clark slowed down enough to not frighten any unwary bystanders, and headed out behind the castle, into the grounds he hadn't yet explored. After all, if he couldn't have Lex, he could at least snoop around to his heart's content and pretend that he and Lex were having hot monkey sex all over the place.

He had a good idea what a guy's naked body looked like, having both a mirror and memories gathered from sharing gym showers for twelve years; he had Lex's face and hands memorized from a whole lot of surreptitious staring, starting with the first time he'd laid lips on the man to give him the breath of life; all he needed was a background for his fantasies beyond his own loft ... and the fencing room... and the kitchen at the Castle ... and the floor of the Metropolis Museum right in front of the breastplate of Alexander the Great, no skanks in sight ... okay, he had quite a varied repertoire of backgrounds for his fantasies, but he could always do with more.

The further he got onto the grounds of the Luthor Estate, the more he felt like Alice down the rabbit hole. There was a formal garden; a wild garden; a gazebo by a waterfall with amazingly life-like rocks around it; a maze that wasn't much of a challenge since he could see right through the hedges to the interesting, if obscene, little sculpture in the middle; a fruit orchard that made his skin tingle with fertilizer that made the ground glow faintly green and through which he moved pretty darned quickly; and what looked a heck of a lot like either a fairy forest or the set of Midsummer's Night's Dream transported from Hollywood (or England) to the middle of Kansas.

Surreal. Not unexpected. This was, after all, Lex's place. Weird was the norm. But still surreal.

Until he stepped from behind what he thought might be an elm tree and nearly dropped his apples. Surreal strayed into both incredible and unexpected in a heartbeat. Because in the middle of the forest, while he didn't see Titania or Bottom or Puck, he did see a vision that made him whisper, "Fuck!" Given the training he'd had ingrained by Martha Kent, the fact that he said it out loud clearly showed he'd lost his mind.

Not that the object of his fascination noticed. He apparently couldn't hear Clark's whisper over the burbling of the water steaming up from the hole in the rocks where he was sitting. Or maybe it was the moaning he was doing that kept him from hearing anything else. Probably just as well, because Clark started whimpering with each exhalation, growing louder with every step he took closer.

And he had to get closer, because the steam was interfering even with his enhanced sight. That wouldn't do. He had to have a clear sight. Of Lex. Buck naked. With one hand on his dick and one hand down between his legs and his head thrown back -- that had to hurt, the way he was banging it, not to mention he'd end up with a moss-stain on his scalp -- and his mouth hanging open.

Clark knew he had super-speed. So he had no idea why his feet felt like lead as he dragged himself closer, closer, closer ... then Lex came, his pink-flushed body with the startling trail of bright red hair on his belly and the bright red curls between his hands arching like a fish on a hook, gleaming through the steam. Clark knew if the pool hadn't already been near boiling it would have been then, because he'd never seen anything so damned hot in his whole life.

Plus, Lex screamed. "Clark!"

Apples went everywhere as he moved at last, unable to stop himself. One large palm slipped between the fragile arc of Lex's skull and the mossy rock before the man batted his brains out on it; the other curved around the back of Lex's neck and brought that sexy open mouth right where Clark needed it, beneath his own.

He'd never actually used his tongue in a kiss, but it felt like the thing to do, what with the urge he was feeling to rip off his clothes, jump in the pool and lick Lex all over. Lex jerked under his hands, gurgled into his mouth, then groaned. Clark refused to let go.

Heck, Clark wasn't at all sure he was capable of letting go.

He didn't know what puberty was like for Humans, not being one himself, but he hadn't been all that bothered by it since he'd had his first wet dream three years before. Floating and vague dreams of picnics with Lana, fully-clothed, were as far as he'd gotten until Lex moved to town. At which point Clark had discovered that his people had some kind of fixation on tall pale bald men, because Lex was all he could think about. His wet dreams took on a quality of detail that could win Oscars for original screenplay and special effects, if they gave Oscars to romantic, pornographic, mental movies.

Lex was still groaning, and wet hands were pulling at Clark's hair, and in a sudden crushing moment, Clark was more embarrassed than he'd ever been in his life. Given the number of spectacular screw-ups he'd made around Lana's necklace, that was quite an accomplishment. Had it not been for the fact that Naked Lex was clinging to him like a leech, he'd've been out of there so fast he'd've left a vapor trail. As it was, if he tried that, he'd probably leave Lex smeared against a tree somewhere, and that wasn't in his grand plan to woo and win his man.

Of course, spying on said man while he tossed off in the Luthor Version of an Outdoor Tub then landing on him and kissing him -- sloppily -- 'til he couldn't breathe, also wasn't in his grand plan. Sad thing was, he still couldn't let go. Eventually he pried his mouth far enough away from Lex that they could breathe. Unable to meet the blue eyes no doubt bulging out at him in rank horror, he unwrapped his hand from the back of Lex's neck and snagged an apple.

"Hungry?" he asked, feeling stupid even as the word came out of his mouth. He wasn't surprised when Lex didn't answer him.

He was surprised when Lex gave a short laugh, that actually sounded like he meant it, then leaned up and took a bite out of the apple. The crunching noises he made assured Clark that his mouth was full, giving Clark the courage he needed to actually look at Lex's expression.

When he did, the hard-on he'd been unconsciously grinding into the rocks next to the pool convulsed, and he came in his pants. Never, in his wildest and best fantasies, had he ever seen Lex chewing on an apple and looking like he wanted to chew on Clark.

Happily, he had enough control not to clench his hands into fists, since he'd probably crush Lex's skull, and that also wasn't part of his grand plan. Blowing his mind, yes; breaking his head, no. Unhappily, all the tension that didn't go to one hand went to the other, and in an instant, the apple he was holding was transformed into a palmful of chunky applesauce.

Lex paused mid-chew, staring at the remains of the apple.

Clark blushed.

Blue eyes blinked, narrowed, glanced up at Clark with what looked an awful lot like calculation, then returned to the apple. That was all it took. Clark leaned over and kissed Lex again.

He told himself it was misdirection. Befuddle the brilliant mind behind those eyes so he would be distracted from Clark's secret. Of course, that was about one hundredth of the reason. The rest had a lot to do with the way Lex's lips gleamed from steam and apple juice.

Dropping his hand to Lex's chest to steady himself, he felt the muscles twitch and realized he'd just pasted apple glop all over Lex. Clark closed his eyes. He could feel himself blushing so hard it was a wonder he wasn't glowing through his clothes. Then Lex started to laugh again, right there against Clark's mouth, and his hands were tugging at Clark's wet shirt, and it was okay.

Because it was Lex. And for Clark, Lex was perfect.

Clark never knew afterward how he managed to get the rest of his clothes off without resorting to super-speed, shredding them with super-strength, or getting tangled up in them and drowning like a super-geek. He did know it had a lot to do with Lex's hands, doing a lot of the work while Clark hung on to the rocks for dear life. When Lex wrestled the buttons of his jeans open, the rocks nearly cracked under his hold.

The first thing Lex said was, "Oh, you are a big boy, aren't you," in a voice that would have made Mae West blush and went straight to his balls, making his dick sit up and take notice, and prompting a happy, "God, Clark," from Lex. The next thing he did was lean over and lick up the sticky mess rubbed against Clark's belly from when he'd already come.

Causing Clark to come a second time, all over Lex's face. If it hadn't felt so good he thought he was going to die, he would have died from embarrassment. Lex looked a little startled, but then he grinned again. A real grin, not the sexy little smirk he usually wore. It looked so good with Clark's come dripping off it that Clark had no choice. He had to lean over and lick Lex's face clean.

Sometime during the tongue-bath that followed, Lex managed to get most of Clark's clothes off him. Clark toed off his shoes, ignoring the snap as laces broke, and his socks, pushed off his jeans and his gooey shorts, then slid over the side of the rocks into the hot steamy bubbling water right on top of Lex.

Holding himself up far enough he didn't actually break him, of course. Breaking also not being part of the grand plan. Of course, by this time Lex was kissing him, and Clark found out what a tongue was supposed to be used for in a kiss, and his grand plan went up in steam.

Real life was so much more fun than fantasy.

Particularly when Lex started playing with his foreskin, rubbing it up and down so the head of his dick popped in and out, muttering something about presents and play toys and stamina. None of it made any sense to Clark, but that was probably because he'd never had anyone's tongue probing the head of his dick before, and his brains had gone up in steam along with his plan. The tip of Lex's tongue pushed against the slit in his dickhead, and Clark had to grab hold of the rocks on either side of Lex's head to keep from moving. If he moved, he'd probably slam Lex clear through the rocks. So the rocks crumbled a little, instead.

They crumbled a lot more when Lex stuck his finger up Clark's ass.

The until-then-unknown fact that his ass was a hot zone registered in what was left of Clark's brain with the impact of a nuclear bomb. Words were tumbling out of his mouth, and there he was saying 'fuck' again, only this time it was immediately followed by 'me,' and was repeated over and over until it sounded like some kind of strange Eastern mantra. Lex lifted his head up from Clark's dick and Clark whined. Then Lex said something and Clark shook his head, trying to clear the buzz making him dizzy so he could make out the words.

"Do you really want me to fuck you, Clark?"

It was the sultriest tone he'd ever heard come from Lex, and since the man breathed sultry into even the most mundane conversation, that was saying a lot. Clark nodded so hard his head should have fallen off, then unknotted his fingers from the rocks and wrapped them around Lex's cheekbones. Sinking into the water, clutching his thighs just tightly enough to keep Lex's fingers in him without crushing his arm, Clark bent down and kissed Lex with enough desperation to make clear what he couldn't remember the words to say. Do it now or I'm going to die, the kiss said. Please.

It might have been the please that did it. Whatever it was, when he broke the kiss and looked at Lex through the hair falling in his face, Lex literally growled. Clark's dick jumped without anybody having to touch it. Then Lex slipped from his grip and went under the water.

Cursing the steam that made it impossible to keep hold of Lex, Clark looked wildly around to see where he'd gone. Then long arms wrapped around him, and breath hotter than the steam wafted over his ear, and he shivered.

"Bend your knees," Lex ordered, and Clark obeyed automatically.

His back arched and his arms flexed as he bent his knees and spread his thighs, pushing his ass back against Lex greedily. Another short laugh, this one kind of breathless, from Lex, then the fingers were back, and Clark was chanting again. This time Lex chanted back, one 'yes' for every 'fuck me.' They made pretty good harmony, all things considered, the main thing being neither one of them was paying the slightest attention to anything they were saying.

The water rippled around them as Lex moved, the heat of him between Clark's legs and along his back making the hot bubbles pale by comparison. That heat shot up as Lex placed the head of his dick against Clark's ass and started to rock into him. Barely moving. Centimeter at a time. Hands smoothing all over Clark's back and ass and upper thighs and back up his ribs to his shoulders and down his arms to twine with Clark's fingers.

It was a dedicated attempt to drive Clark completely nuts, and it nearly worked. But Clark had an answer to the slow torture, and he moved back as Lex moved forward, until with the two of them working in tandem, by the time their hands laced together Lex was buried in Clark right down to those bright red curls.

Clark was almost certain his head was going to explode. Even coming twice was no defense against the new sensations racing through his body, 'though the relaxation had helped, as had the steam, not to mention the whole dream-like quality of the encounter. Well, apart from the pulverized apple and attendant embarrassment.

Then Lex started to move. In. Out. Back in. Pressing in and moving around in little circles. Clark finally realized why they called it being screwed, and knew he'd never be able to say that again without blushing and smiling like a goof. The blush he usually had, since he couldn't curse without it, but the goofy grin would be new.

A mirror to the one he was wearing right then. As Lex went out. Then back in. Then around in circles again.

Beneath Lex's hands, Clark's fingers were drilling holes in the rocks. He didn't notice, since his head was hanging down and his eyes were fixed on Lex's thighs, moving between his, wavering through the steamy water, half-hidden behind Clark's own erection, riding low but buoyed by the bubbles. He wouldn't have noticed anyway, because he wasn't noticing anything but the way Lex felt stretching and screwing him, the way Lex's fingers flexed over the top of his hands like a cat's kneading paws, the slick bite of Lex's mouth against his shoulder, and the bubbling water tickling up under his foreskin and breaking against his balls.

Still chanting softly, adding his own 'yes' to Lex's 'fuck, Clark,' he felt the movements behind and inside him speed up and flexed his ass instinctively. Lex's voice broke, along with his control, and he slammed hard into Clark. The goofy grin on Clark's face got bigger. He liked that. A lot. He wriggled and flexed again, and Lex pulled back a little bit and slammed in again. One more time, and Lex screamed "Clark!"

Again. Only a lot louder this time, and right in Clark's ear.

So that was what it felt like to drive Lex out of his mind. Hands clamped so tightly over his the knuckles were white, teeth biting so hard they'd've drawn blood on anyone else, pelvis glued to Clark's ass as Lex pumped into him. Clark closed his eyes and concentrated. It was amazing. He could literally feel the life in Lex's come, feel the heat spurting up inside himself. Feel himself spiraling out of control as he concentrated too hard, and forcefully yanked himself back to the present before he blacked out.

Just in time, as Lex collapsed over his back, and Clark carefully lowered them both against the rocks. Sliding one hand out from under Lex's suddenly slack grip, Clark reached behind him and steadied Lex's lax body. When they were far enough into the water that the buoyancy gradually pushed them apart, Clark turned in Lex's arms and smiled.

Lex's grin looked as goofy as Clark's felt. Sleepy blue eyes glanced down and noticed that Clark was still hard. A truly mischievous sparkle started up in them, and Clark gulped.

"Yummm," Lex purred, then slid down Clark's body until his head was underwater and Clark's dick was all the way down his throat.

Given the state of arousal he'd been in since he'd first seen Lex, and the fact that his self-control was minimal at best and nonexistent at worst, plus the energy crawling along every nerve in his body from being screwed by the best -- and he had a feeling no matter how many people he had sex with, Lex would always be the best -- it took approximately four seconds for Clark to come. Lex barely got the foreskin pulled back before Clark convulsed. This time at least he didn't get it all over Lex's face.

Most of it went down his throat. After which Lex sucked and licked until he had to come up for air, leaving Clark whimpering again, partly at the sensations in his exhausted dick and partly at the sheer beauty of Lex with water drops hanging off his eye lashes and dripping over his swollen mouth. Clark had to kiss him for a long time, for being so beautiful, and being Lex, and being crazy enough to want Clark.

Eventually, of course, they had to break apart. Breathing was necessary, after all, and Lex at least was starting to look like a prune. A very cute, very sexy, very steamy prune, but still wrinkled. Not having any idea what to say, Clark kept silent, pulling himself out of the pool with one clean heave of long arms, then turning to offer his hand to Lex.

Who was staring at him like he'd just seen God. Clark blushed. Everywhere. The stare intensified, and the grin that slowly grew to accompany it looked feral. Clark smiled nervously.

"Uhm, Lex? Everything okay?"

Lex finally took Clark's hand and pulled himself out of the bubbling water, and it was Clark's turn to feel his jaw drop.

"You're beautiful," each said simultaneously to the other. Then Clark cracked up, and Lex shook his head before joining him.

Reaching over, hands still clasped, feeling ridiculous and content and happier than he ever had, Clark kissed Lex gently. Lex kissed him back, with a little bite to his lower lip that made him shiver, then licked where he'd just bitten. Clark felt himself start to get hard again. Lex leaned back and looked down, eyes widening comically.

"You've got to be kidding," he said, prodding the growing erection with his free hand. Clark's dick jumped.

"Hey, I'm an alien," Clark shrugged, then froze, not believing he'd blurted out the truth like that.

"Yeah, well, I was an alien when I was sixteen too, but I never got it up four times in an hour," Lex admitted, still staring at the half-hard dick. Clark grinned, relieved and more turned on by the second.

"You inspire me."

Lex shook his head, let go of Clark's hand with gratifying reluctance, and grabbed his jeans, tossing them to him. "Let's take this back up to the house and see how many times I can make you come before you pass out. How does that sound?"

Clark was fully dressed by the time Lex got his robe belted. Lex smirked, but this time Clark saw the hunger beneath the sarcastic quirk. "Like a plan," he finally answered, scooping up a couple apples as he followed Lex's silk-covered butt back to the castle. Biting into an apple, imagining it was Lex's left ass cheek, he mumbled, "What d'you call this place, anyway, the enchanted forest?"

Tossing a grin over his shoulder at him, Lex answered, "Luthor's Folly. May have to change that after today."

Hustling to catch up with him, much as he was enjoying the view from behind, Clark asked, "To what? Clark's Folly?" hoping he hadn't made a mistake. Then Lex stopped, grabbed him by the collar and kissed him until he couldn't breathe, stealing a bite of apple as he let Clark go.

"Sounds good to me," Lex half-whispered, and Clark dropped yet another apple. Then they were at the castle, then they were on the stairs, then they were in Lex's bedroom, and Clark knew, whatever else this would turn out to be, it would not be a mistake.

Insanity, maybe; folly, for darned sure; but never a mistake.

END