Say It

Clark clutched at the man above him, digging his fingernails into the golden back of his partner as the man slowly moved in and out of his body. Long legs wrapped themselves around narrow hips.

"Ollie." The name fell from plump, pink lips. The younger man's tongue swept out to moisten his lips only to have them captured by the golden-haired god above him.

"Ollie." The name was spoken again, this time in broken desperation. The two had been at this for what seemed like hours, Oliver never straying from his steady pace. Finally, Oliver Queen spoke, his voice rough and filled with sex, "Say it."

Clark knew what Oliver wanted. He knew what the man had been craving ever since they had started their little "sordid" love affair. Clark bit his lips, digging his head into the pillow and arching his back as his lover's cock stroked in just the right place.

"Say it," he said once again.

But Clark couldn't. The relationship between them could get them killed if anyone were to find out. Clark knew better, hell, the whole world knew better than to incur the wrath of-

"Christ! Oliver!" Clark's voice reached a new height as Oliver slid his legs up and over his shoulders, Clark's legs nearly resting on either side of his head as he was bent in half. It was then that everything became a blur of sex and skin. The dark haired man moved his hands to clutch at the twisted sheets beneath them; his moans of pleasure increasing with each savage thrust delivered to his opening.

"Say it, Clark," the demand was spoken between clenched teeth. All it took was one more thrust home and Clark was spilling everything the other man had wanted to hear.

"Yes, yes! I'll do it! Just please! Please...let me come. Ollie..." Green eyes bore into blue as Oliver reached between then and stroked the waiting member. One, two, three. The sixth stoke had Clark stilling and groaning into the mouth sealed upon his own. Oliver thrust twice more before spilling into the condom he had hastily donned. Slowly he pulled out and arranged himself next to his lover. He pulled Clark to rest against him. Chest to back.

They laid there in silence and it was only then that Clark had realized what he had done. He turned his gaze to outside of the dirty motel window, the gaudy "vacancy" sign taking up the view. He finally felt content in the arms of the man he loved, but Clark couldn't shake the fear welling up inside of him. He knew what he was afraid of. He was terrified of the telling his lover that he was leaving him and for his sworn enemy nonetheless. Clark knew that his dilemma was great. After all, no one betrayed Lex Luthor and lived. No one.

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. Instead they belong to DC comics, Alfred Gough and Miles Millar and the CW network. But if I did own them, Smallville would oh so different. And in the deliciously dirty sense. =) This story is dedicated to a good friend who needed a good pick-me-up (so I forced her to read this).