Sparring Partners

By

CJ

"Lex?" Clark walked into the gym and wandered over to the practice bags.

There were boxing posters on the wall and enough equipment for several people to work out here at once. It was kind of spooky the way Lex kept this place empty when he worked out. Lots of times he didn't even have a trainer. Clark shook his head. It was dangerous. But that never stopped Lex.

"Clark!" Lex wasn't near the bags. Lex was calling to him from the ring.

"Hey, Lex. What's up?" Clark wandered over and set his backpack down on the bench next to the ring.

"Getting a little exercise, getting out a little aggression." Lex shadow boxed for a moment and suddenly the air was too heavy and the walls too close for Clark to get a good breath.

"Oh." Clark swallowed hard. Lex was wearing satiny trunks and a tank. More Lex-skin than Clark had ever seen outside of his dreams. Clark sat down and hurriedly shifted his pack into his lap.

"Hey, hey, no sitting this out, Kent, you're supposed to be helping me get some of this aggression out." A grin and two swift jabs to the air in Clark's direction, as Lex danced lightly on the balls of his feet. His trunks were shiny. So was his skin, perspiring for Clark's benefit, it seemed like.

"What do you mean?" Clark smiled nervously. "Looks like you're doing fine to me."

"The sweet science of boxing can only be taken so far on one's own, Clark. To be truly appreciated one requires an opponent. Someone to test yourself against, someone to grapple with. Someone to draw out your inner demons and leave them bare on the canvas."

There were things Clark very much wanted to bare on the canvas, but his inner demons were not among them. Lex's demons didn't scare him, but then, he probably didn't know them all, did he?

"Andtoday, you think that someone is me?" Clark rose, already shaking his head. "Lex, I'm sorry. I don't box. I don't know anything about it. I can't get in the ring with you."

Lex slowed down and walked to the ropes in front of Clark. "You might not be ready to spar, but there's nothing wrong with learning a few of the punches, the stances."

"No, Lex." Clark shook his head adamantly, even as he found himself stepping closer to the ring.

"I've got work out clothes for you over on that bench. Go on and change." Lex's voice was friendly and even, and his face had the standard half smile of self-satisfaction, but there was tension in his shoulders and his hands were gripping the rope in front of him very hard.

"Lexä" Clark wanted to ask his friend why this was important, but Lex never answered questions like that directly and Clark didn't think he could concentrate enough to tease out all the kernels of meaning in a lecture on Alexander the Great. Not with a sweat slicked Lex standing a couple of feet away.

"Clark, it's more fun practicing with someone, okay?" He said it like it was a secret. Like maybe he hadn't known for all that long.

Clark sighed. "The gym could hook you up with a real sparring partner." God. Was he being an asshole about this?

"That's true." Lex's face went cool and he said with a slight sneer, "I've always been able to pay for partners when necessary."

Okay, that was a definite yes. Clark Kent was being an asshole. Fuck.

"Don't be stupid, Lex, you know that's not what I meant." Clark shook his head and wondered what he was going to tell his parents and how he was going to avoid hurting Lex and how could he let Lex talk him into this? "Okay."

The room immediately glowed under the weight of Lex's real-true-honest-to-god-seen-no-more-than-once-a-week smile. "Great! Just change and then I'll wrap your hands."

And, of course, that was why he would let Lex talk him into boxing. That smile was worth anything. Anything at all.

Clark grabbed the trunks and the T-shirt, went and put them on, only a little faster than normal. The trunks were cool and slick against his thighs and the T-shirt seemed tighter than he would have picked, but he ignored it all and finished dressing as quickly as possible. He walked back out and got another smile. Two in one day - was Lex on something?

Lex held the ropes apart as Clark climbed through.

"You look like a pro, Clark," Lex said grinning at his friend's blush. Clark grinned back, although with less confidence.

"Yeah, well, that illusion won't last long," Clark muttered. "What do I do now?"

"Did you bring the wraps?"

"Yeah, these things?" Clark held out the two small coils of black webbing that he had found sitting on the trunks.

Lex took one and grabbed Clarkπs left hand, positioning it so that the palm was up, then he started to wrap. "Yeah - if we were going to do any serious sparring we'd use gloves, but these are fine for just working on your form. Okay, so this goes around the wrist a couple of times and then you start the figure eightsä "

Lex's own hands were already wrapped, making his fingers just a bit awkward. Clark didn't mind. Lex's fingers were stroking over his wrist and palm, over, under, over, under.

"Then it just secures with the Velcro. Good. Okay, other hand, Clark."

"Huh?"

"Other hand."

"Oh, right, sorry." Clark held out his right hand now for the same treatment. The Lex treatment.

Over under, over under, over under and over. Much. Too. Soon.

Lex's skin had started to dry a bit as he'd stood wrapping Clark's hands. The larger exposed areas were matte now, with a dry layer of salt, but the dips and creases still shone under the gym lights: behind his ears, the creases of his underarms, the dimple of his collarbone.

Lex backed up a space.

Clark followed.

"No, Clark, stay there. You want to get at a fighting distance. In this case, you have the advantage of reach, so about thereä" Lex reached out and took Clark by the shoulder.

He felt the burn of Lex's cool fingertips and the scrape of the cotton wraps on his shoulders. Clark flinched.

"Hey, don't worry, Clark - I'm just going to show you a few moves, we won't be sparring today." Lex's hands were still on Clark's shoulders. He was standing so close that Clark could smell his sweat and the scent of lemon balm and musk.

He cleared his throat, "Yeah, okay." Lex never touched Clark this much. Clark touched Lex and Lex allowed it, but this was different.

Clark started blushing and could feel the blood heating in his face and down his chest.

What was Lex saying?

"Stance, Clark." Lex shook him a bit to get his attention, "Stance."

Clark moved closer.

Lex chuckled gently, "No, no, no, like this."

His hands stroking down to cup Clark's elbows, Lex maneuvered his right leg in between Clarks and tried to gently push his friend's legs into the proper distance: feet a shoulder width apart.

Lex's leg. Between Clark's. Just skin and silky shorts. And. and.

Clark's breath sped up and he couldn't move or breathe. Damn, damn, damn. He held his breath praying that Lex would just ignore what was happening.

Lex was looking down to check Clark's footing, and froze.

Ok.

So some things could not be ignored.

Glossed over?

Blamed on- what? The weather?

Shit shit shit shit shit.

Clark closed his eyes and hoped that he would drop through the floor.

Any time now would be fine.

Really.

"Um, Clark?" Lex didn't sound disgusted. Cautious, yes. But not disgusted.

"Yeah, Lex." Clark answered calmly. As in, nothing here but a three-legged man.

"Ummm, looks to me like maybe," Lex stepped closer. Clark stopped breathing but opened his eyes, "maybe you would rather try wrestling?"

It was the smile again. And Clark knew he'd gone blind cause all he could see was Lex's smile. Which was when Clark decided he could breathe again. So he did, breathing in Lex, and Lex's tongue and his heat and sweat all at once. Breathing in Lex's groans and words that kept dripping out no matter how Clark tried to catch them all.

"Wasn't sure- god, didn't think - right there, Clark, that's it, - gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous."

Which made Clark want to laugh, but he was busy.

Hands were everywhere: Clark's hands under Lex's T-shirt, Lex's hands running down - ah - underneath the trunks, grabbing, kneading, and so hot the icy fingers and the rough webbing of the wraps. Webbing on Clark's own hands, leaving only his fingers to map the new territory that was opening up to him.

"Want you Lex. Wanted you so long." But there was fabric in the way. The t-shirt that had fascinated Clark with its secrets just a moment before, the wraps on their hands, were now intrusive. Had to go.

Rip.

"Jesus, Clark!"

The T-shirt fluttered down to the ground, and Clark quickly pulled the wraps off his own hands before he knelt to take care of Lex's trunks. Hooking his thumbs under the waistband he pulled at the silk.

"Clark, wait," hands on his head weaving ribbons of shivers through his hair, "you don't have to- Oh, fuck!"

Lex's fingers were still hampered by wraps, Clark's weren't. Lex's trunks joined his tank top.

Clark decided the jockstrap was worth a moment of contemplation. The way it perfectly framed both cock and ass, the fact that it really was the point of no return, made Clark pause.

"You don't have to." Lex was gazing down; looking like saying that sentence had just about killed him.

Clark didn't think he could answer, so he just leaned in and rubbed his face over the cloth, learning Lex's cock by touch and scent. Then he pulled off the jock strap and touched some more.

Lex's hands tightened to fists, but Clark realized they were still muffled in the wraps. The cock that danced and bobbed between his hands was not something Clark was willing to give up, but the wraps on Lex's hands were in the way. Clark had plans for those fingers.

Clark turned his head into the hand that was wound up in his hair, never stopping the strokes to Lex's cock, and gently bit into the wraps.

"Clark?"

He paused. "Let me, Lex."

Then he parted the Velcro fastenings on each wrist, tugging them off one at a time with his teeth, Lex cooperating, providing the necessary resistance, until they fell away.

Lex's eyes were wide and his smile soft as he nudged at Clark's lips with his cock. Clark looked up seriously. "No."

Lex froze. His face blanked, "Clark, don't- just-" Lex tried to pull away, but Clark held him, frowning, knowing that his brain would be working better if all the blood hadn't gone south.

"No! Want you. Want you in me, Lex. Please." Clark sat back on the mats, lowering himself to the canvas and drawing Lex with him as the other man's face clearly showed the journey from hurt to shock to wonder. Clark understood that journey, because he was on his own. All the barriers were being breached and Clark didn't know if they would stop. Could stop.

Lex was pulling back, slowing down. "We need, things, Clark. We can't just-"

Clark cut him off with a kiss and then whispered in his ear, "You can't hurt me. You can't get me sick. And I've wanted you since you hit me on the bridge." Lex tried to pull back again, but Clark held him tightly. "Please."

All the secrets were out now, one way or the other, and Clark just had to push through, he just had to, and he knew it would hurt Lex as much as it was hurting him, but didn't first times always hurt?

There was a moment when Lex didn't move, and Clark did feel pain: the pain of crossing lines as he could almost hear Lex going back and redefining the meaning of every conversation they'd ever had.

Then Lex's hands were everywhere, ripping cloth almost as easily as Clark had, pushing Clark's legs wide, kissing, biting, owning him.

"God yes, thank you, thank you," Clark murmured, petting the wild thing that was making love to him.

"Going to take you, Clark." Lex's voice rasped between panting breaths and the weight of anger held barely in check. "You owe me," and he bit and licked his way from Clark's ribs to his collarbone.

The words made Clark arch up, more than a little afraid he would come before Lex even had the chance to get inside him. He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting for control. "Yes, please, Lex, just- god- just hurry, okay?"

Clark heard a growl and then felt his thighs being pushed roughly up. "Hold your knees as high and wide as you can." Lex ordered, as he sat up.

Clark did as he was told and opened his eyes to see Lex looking at him with cold eyes that made Clark feel more than alien.

"Are you a virgin, Clark? Am I your first?"

Clark nodded.

"Truth, Clark? Or am I going to find out a month or a year from now that this was just convenient for you? What's this going to cost me, Clark?"

That broke him. Fast enough to prove he really had stopped hiding from Lex, Clark scrambled over onto all fours and away. Just away, until he was in the corner of the ring and sat withhis knees drawn up to his chest, shaking with anger and lust and fear.

When he'd dropped back to normal speed, Lex's eyes had finally caught up with him. The look on the other man's face would have made Clark laugh if it hadn't been for the fact that he really wanted to smack him.

"Don't be such a jackass, Lex." Clark ground out. "I've lied to you about one aspect of my life. Just one. You've never had to pay for anything from me: not my friendship, not my company, and not my secrets. If anything, the truth is costing me a hell of a lot more than it's costing you."

Lex knelt there on the floor a few feet away, naked, gorgeous, his cock only slightly softened. Clark felt lust running down his spine, but knew it was hopeless. God, he never should have said anything, he never should have even gotten in the damn boxing ring.

"Okay, so let me get this straight," Lex began. "You're fast. You're strong. I hit you on the bridge."

"Yes."

"And you aren't going to lie to me anymore?" Lex's eyes were softer now and he started crawling over to Clark. God, how could anyone look that graceful when they were crawling?

"No." Clark confirmed.

"And you really want me? Here and now?" Lex asked this in all seriousness, and Clark knew he mustn't laugh, but Christ, who wouldn't want Lex? He was within arms reach now.

"God, of course I do, Lex, here, now, and later, too. For-fucking-ever, Lex." And now Lex was there in Clark's arms, in his lap, with his mouth back where it belonged- which was anywhere on Clark's skin. "What did you think this was?"

"A head game," Lex nibbled on Clark's neck, "a mind-fuck," he moved on down Clark's chest, his hands tracing over each muscle, "I don't know."

"There's only one kind of fucking that's going to happen here," Clark assured Lex as he held him and slid them both back down flat on the rough canvas of the ring, "and it has nothing to do with your mind."

Sweat and pre-cum and legs wrapped around Lex's waist made for delicious friction as Clark rocked up against Lex and Lex tried to kiss him everywhere at once. Lex slid down a bit, and gently hooked Clarkπs legs over his shoulders.

Lex paused, drawing it out, both of them panting, "You know I'll have questions after."

"And I'll have answers, but right now, just fuck me, Lex."

And Lex bent him double, kissing him and sliding in. Sliding home. Taking Clark home in one long thrust that stretched and burned and felt like every important thing in the world could be answered with this, this connection, this rightness.

And there were words. His words, his voice, Lex's words, Lex's voice, running on and on as Lex pulled out and thrust back in again and again, and what the words were wasn't nearly as important as shouting them together, scratching them into Lex's back, having them bitten into Clark's very bones, until it all came together in a hot, back- breaking rush that left Clark sticky, dazed and covered in semen, sweat and Lex.

Lex was the first to move, rolling off Clark to lie next to him on the canvas.

Clark looked at him and asked, "Questions?"

Lex shook his head, "They can wait. I've had the most important answers. Except for one."

Clark swallowed and closed his eyes, "Which one?"

"Want to spar some more tomorrow?"

Clark was on top of Lex before he could finish the sentence. "Why wait?"