hackthis_archive | Make porn not war, damnit! (Is it a challenge?)

Like I told

rosenho: My primary fandom eats newbies like Jonathan Swift ate babies, and my secondary fandom steals from the blind. Notice, how not upset this makes me? NEXT!

slodwick made this manip and then was appalled when I didn’t realize she quoted Ryan. Bad Zahra. No cookie for me! I guess minimalist porn will just have to do. *veg*

Dedicated to... fuck it. Dedicated to everybody who wants it. Happy Friday!

Smallville
Desire

Nothing about desire is simple.

It’s not just that Lex wants Clark, it’s that he wants Clark now.

It’s not just that Lex wants to fuck Clark; he wants to fuck Clark on his back and on his knees and on the sofa and in the kitchen.

He wants fingers and mouths and wet noises proving yet again how good the soundproofing in the penthouse is.

Lex wants Clark touching himself knowing that Lex is watching.

Lex just wants.

The wanting is simple.

*

Desire makes Lex primal.

He doesn’t just want to pull at Clark’s shirt and yank at his trousers until they pool around his ankles. Lex wants to bat Clark’s hands away, because damnit, he wants to do it, and superspeed doesn’t help with everything.

Lex wants to suck and mark and tear.

He wants scratches and bites, and the good kind of soreness in the morning because he got carried away. Because they got carried away.

Lex just wants what he wants, and he wants to suck at Clark’s clavicle and leave marks. He wants to bite at Clark’s hipbones and push his thighs apart because Lex is greedy, and he wants to see it all.

All for him; all the time.

Lex’s desire will consume him.

And he will let it.

Desire isn’t about control.

*

It’s not just about Clark spread out on cotton sheets and writhing like the wanton slut he claims not to be.

Lex knows better.

Clark just needs to be coaxed.

He just needs a little incentive.

Desire is a drug.

Lex is a pusher.

*

Desire is about the journey.

It’s about seduction and anticipation.

Lex enjoys slowly unbuttoning Clark’s shirt – the shirt he let Lex pick out – and still making a point of ripping at the sleeves. Lex likes leaving little bites each time he exposes a bit more of Clark’s chest to his roving eyes. He likes dipping his tongue in Clark’s navel and watching as Clark writhes on the bed as though he can’t get away. As though he couldn’t destroy the entire building around them between Lex’s heartbeats.

Yes. Lex likes that. He likes that he does that to Clark.

Lex’s desire makes the strongest man in the world whimper like a newborn.

It’s good for Lex’s ego.

It’s good for Lex’s desire, because Lex is in charge, and Clark wants him. Clark desires Lex so badly that he will let Lex take him wherever Lex wants to go.

Lex could turn around and drive to the ends of the earth, and Clark would follow him. That’s how bad Clark wants him.

That’s desire.

And nudity may be *a* destination, but it’s not the journey.

Desire is the journey.

It’s the ending and beginning and middle of a long trip, and Lex knows that it’s always about what takes place in the middle that counts.

Desire is everything.

It’s part and parcel and gift, and it will be there long after everything else is gone.

*

Desire is Lex’s fingers moving slickly inside Clark and twisting at that exact moment that makes Clark growl.

It’s Lex wanting Clark to growl, when he didn’t even know Clark could.

*

Desire is Lex calling Clark’s name so loudly that he can’t hear Clark calling his.

*

And when it’s all said and done, after the orgasm and before the shower:

Desire is Clark voluntarily lying in the wet spot.

It’s the tiny, chaste kisses that Lex leaves on the nape of Clark’s neck.

It’s about snuggling and cuddling and all sorts of things that Lex would never allow himself to do otherwise.

Desire is knowing that even without the mind-blowing sex, Lex just wants this.

Just Clark.

Clark is Lex's desire.