First of all, my immense gratitude to Marguerite, who volunteered so much of her time and expertise to provide and double-check all the French lines in this story, and didn't ask for a single thing in return. All hail Marguerite! Any mistakes remaining are, unfortunately, mine. Thanks also to Random for suggestions, and also LaT & Te.

Total Immersion

by Livia

*  

"Je mange. Tu manges. Il mange. Nous... um... nous..." Clark mumbled, and opened his eyes, running his finger along the column of phrases in his French book. "Nous mangeons. Darn."

He closed his eyes, and tried again. "Je mange, tu manges, il mange, nous mangeons..."

"You're making me hungry," said an amused voice, and Clark jerked back, startled, almost dropping his French book on the floor. Lex was standing on the other side of Clark's usual table at the Talon, a steaming coffee cup in his black-gloved hand. He eyed Clark's French book and the papers he'd spread out over his table. "But your accent needs work."

"Yeah, I kinda suck," Clark said, rubbing at his forehead. "Or as they would say in French: I kinda suck, oui?"

"Wouldn't Spanish be more useful?" Lex asked, sliding into the chair across from him. "Just in a practical sense."

"Well, yeah, but Pete wanted to take French," Clark explained. "Goes with his whole 'ladies-man' routine." He swallowed suddenly, remembering that maybe Pete wasn't the best person to bring up around Lex at the moment, but Lex just nodded.

"And you decided to suffer along with him, of course. So why isn't he helping you study?"

"Well, see, it works for Pete," Clark admitted. "He's been studying with Trina Richards for two weeks now."

"Leaving you to stumble through your conjugations alone." Lex said sympathetically. "Well, maybe I can help."

"How could you--" Clark glanced up from his book. "You speak French?"

Lex grinned a little, and gestured for Clark to gather up his books. "Je parle assez le français pour pouvoir t'aider à ce niveau."

"I have no idea what you just said," Clark said. "But it's good enough for me." He scooped his papers into his backpack, slung it over his shoulder and stood up.

*

"Ça fait combien de temps que tu apprends le français?" Lex asked as they left the Talon.

"What?" Clark said. Damn. He didn't know why it was more embarrassing to be a monolingual dumbass in front of Lex than it was to freeze up in front of Madame Delon and the whole multi-level French class, but apparently life was just totally unfair that way.

"Ça fait combien de temps que tu apprends le français," Lex repeated, slowly and obligingly. He grinned at Clark over the top of the car, then mercifully looked down and unlocked the doors with a click. "How long have you been taking French?"

"Oh. Just since school started. A few months. Feels like forever," Clark grumped, sliding into the passenger seat of Lex's black Ferrari and groping at the handle to adjust the seat.

"You don't like it?"

"Well, I'm bad at it. And I feel like I shouldn't be." Clark said. He re-arranged his backpack in his lap awkwardly, putting on his seatbelt, then tried to explain. "I mean, I memorize everything, all the parts of speech... And I don't get why chairs are female, but I'm trying to go with it... And, well, I'm still bad at it."

Lex nodded, pulling out onto Main Street and weaving easily through the slow-moving traffic. "Well, ordinarily I'd advise you to try to immerse yourself in the language. French books, French movies, things like that. But I don't know how practical that's going to be for you, Smallville being... well, Smallville." He tilted his head at Clark as he accelerated towards the highway. "You should come over. Whenever you need to. We can watch movies, and I can help you with your pronunciation."

"Sure," Clark said. "Thanks, Lex." He glanced out the window into the deep blue Smallville evening. His ears were burning now, and he was beginning to suspect why. He'd been over to the castle a lot of times, but mostly for deliveries. Okay, so he usually ended up hanging out, if Lex wasn't busy. But it wasn't like Clark just invited himself over all the time. To go over to Lex's for no reason, just to hang out and watch movies, that would be...

That would be kind of like a date.

Clark turned his head a little further and made a face out the window. God, he needed to get real. It was studying, just like he'd have done with Pete if Pete hadn't flaked out on him. And Lex probably wouldn't have made the offer if he'd known Clark was going to get all middle-school-girl about it. Nervously, Clark locked his hand around his wrist, and ducked his head a little. Not a date, he told himself. Not a date.

*

"Voulez-vous acheter un crayon?" Lex read from Clark's French book, then looked up at him. The tiniest hint of a smile played around his mouth.

Clark swallowed and looked down, scrunching up his nose and squinting at his hands in a futile attempt to actually make his brain work. Somehow he hadn't actually realized that Lex's help with his French homework would actually involve... Lex speaking French. Sitting there in his shirt-sleeves and talking and talking at him. Insisting that Clark really listen, really watch his mouth as it slowly shaped the words. And Clark had asked for his help, so he just had to force himself to sit and endure it. Like a piece of ice trying not to melt in the noonday sun.

"Clark?" Lex raised an eyebrow. His voice was smooth as glass, easy as falling downstairs.

"What?"

"Un crayon?" It was the same voice that Lex used on people he didn't know, to charm them. The same voice that sent tingles up Clark's spine and prickled the hair on the back of his neck, every time. Clark had been listening to it for almost half an hour now, and he was getting, well.

Twitchy.

"Oh! Uh. Oui, je veux acheter un crayon... Um." Clark stared across at Lex helplessly. Lex was sitting at the other end of the couch, with Clark's French book on his lap, tilted up so that Clark couldn't see the rest of the dialogue. "Ummm..." Clark wrinkled up his nose, and wondered if there was some way to refine his x-ray vision so that he could see inside Lex's brain and somehow learn how to read the the electrical impulses and get the answer that way.

Complicated, sure. But probably easier than actually learning French.

Lex sighed and flipped back a few pages in Clark's book, then forward a little. "This is terrible," he said idly. "I mean, I've been to France. When you get there, you're not going to be running out to price school supplies."

"Oh! Right-- price, I know this one. Combien-- combien coûte le crayon?" Clark grinned like a dork.

"Exactly. Now how about..." Lex smiled at him. "Je voudrais..."

"Je voudrais..."

"...sortir avec ma voisine."

"...sortir avec ma voisine," Clark repeated, then tried to translate out loud. "I... something with my 'voisine,' that's feminine-- Hey!" He sat up straight. "What'd you just have me say?"

Lex started laughing at him, clutching at Clark's French book when Clark tried to take it back. "Je-- je voudrais-- 'I wish I were dating the girl next door.' That's it, I swear," he said, when Clark pulled back. "I thought it would be more applicable than the price of pencils."

"Oh." Clark said. He scooted back to his end of the couch. It had been almost a week, and he still hadn't told Lex about his decision. The decision he'd made about Lana.

"Voudrais, you probably don't know yet," Lex said. "It's a form of, hm, vouloir-- to wish."

To wish. Clark swallowed, looking down. Once she'd gotten out of the hospital, Clark had taken Lana to Chandler Field, and helped her climb up to the top of the windmill. If seeing Metropolis really was her secret wish, then she ought to have it, right?

"You know 'je veux' though, right?" Lex continued.

"Yeah-- 'I want,'" Clark said.

"Which leads to one of your simpler romantic phrases. Je veux t'embrasser," Lex said quietly, and Clark was going to repeat it, but there was something in Lex's voice that made him hesitate. "Wanting to kiss... perhaps that's a slightly more advanced lesson." He grinned at Clark, and after a minute Clark made himself grin back.

He'd wanted to kiss Lana forever. But when she actually had kissed him, it had just been hollow. Maybe somewhere deep inside, Clark had been hoping the trip up to the windmill could change that. If he could actually show her, give her that one thing-- then Lana would finally understand how much he cared. She wouldn't be able to treat him like a friend any more. Except even then, he'd known. Lana did know. She knew how he felt, and Clark still couldn't quite believe she didn't care, but...

The point was, Lana cared about Whitney more, and it didn't matter what else she'd said while she was under the influence. Whitney was Lana's boyfriend, and Clark wasn't. And he probably wasn't ever going to be.

It was depressing, but hey, so was Clark's life.

They'd sat there, together, staring out over the sunlit Kansas landscape. The skyscrapers of Metropolis rose up against the sky like a billboard, saying that there was a whole other world out there, that you had to leave some things behind in order to grow up. That the future was all too close.

Lana had asked him how he felt, and for once, Clark hadn't even really needed to think about it. Hadn't needed to edit his answer, for fear someone wouldn't understand.

He'd felt... free.

"Hello," Lex said, "earth to Clark Kent. Earth calling Clark?"

"Huh?" Clark jerked his head up, startled. "Sorry-- I-- what?"

"You went away there for a second," Lex said, smiling softly. "Enraptured by thoughts of the lovely Lana?"

Clark ducked his head, staring at his hand. "I... uh, y'know," he said, and shook his head hard. He didn't want Lex to be disappointed in him. Didn't want Lex to think he didn't appreciate everything Lex had done. He'd find some way to tell Lex he'd changed his mind. Just not right now. He looked off at the fireplace for a moment. "So what's French for 'My dad doesn't want me to play football'?"

Lex blinked at him. "Ah... 'mon père ne veut pas que je joue au football.' But that'll hardly impress the girls, Clark."

"Right now?" Clark said. "The only woman I care about impressing is Madame Delon."

"Well, maybe you should flirt with her. Is she pretty?"

"I guess." Clark tried not to look away, tried really hard not to blush, but Lex's smile sharpened anyway.

"Which means yes. Let's see." Lex looked thoughtful for a moment, then tilted his head and purred, "Vous êtes mon professeur préféré, Madame Delon."

Behind his leg, where Lex couldn't see, Clark curled his fingers into his hand and pressed his fingernails into his palm. It helped him keep his voice even. "Lex." he said firmly. "I'm not going to flirt with my French teacher."

"Why not? It worked on my Latin tutor at boarding school," Lex said.

"I thought you had--" Clark began. And something about the way Lex's smile flickered, and then stayed just as bright, should have warned Clark off finishing that sentence. Maybe. "I thought, um. Didn't you say you only had guy teachers at boarding school?" Clark tried to smile, managing to make the question easy, teasing. Hopefully teasing enough so that Lex would be able to laugh it off.

"I did," Lex said.

"Oh."

"It still worked," Lex said.

"Oh..." And then Clark didn't know what to say. 'It's okay with me?' Like it really mattered to Lex what Clark thought. What anyone thought, if Lex could just say it, so easily. Like it didn't even matter, like it was nothing. Still, Clark should say something, he thought. "So you, um..."

"Means to an end, Clark. Never underestimate a Luthor's willingness to do what it takes to get what he wants." Lex said, running his fingers over the smooth cover of Clark's French book. He looked up at Clark. "Or the lewdness of certain Latin verses, which are something of an education in and of themselves."

Clark smiled, or tried to, and Lex got up and headed over to the stand next to the fireplace, picking up a bottle of water and wrenching off the cap with what looked like a little more force than was actually necessary.

"So this isn't really new to you," Clark said, and Lex looked over his shoulder. Firelight illuminated his startled face.

"What do you mean?"

Clark stood up. "This. This... flirting and tutoring thing."

Lex had been lifting the bottle of water to his mouth, but now he set it down, and swallowed. His voice was low, and a little hoarse from all the talking. "I've been speaking French a lot longer than you have, Clark."

It was a warning, but Clark could only smile. "Maybe I have more of an aptitude than I thought."

"For French," Lex said warily. He picked up the bottle of water again, watching Clark as he came nearer.

"I don't think we're talking about my homework any more," Clark said, and moved even closer to Lex. "Unless, um."

"Clark..." Lex said, and then Clark was standing in front of the fireplace, taking the bottle from his hand.

"How do you say 'I want to kiss my best friend' in French?"

Lex flinched, baring his teeth. And for a moment Clark thought he'd screwed everything up. He swallowed, but then Lex closed his eyes, and said huskily, "Je veux embrasser mon meilleur ami."

Clark inhaled slowly. "Je veux t'embrasser, Lex."

Lex's eyes flew open, and Clark had never seen him smile so... openly, so much like it was for real. And... Clark had made him smile like that, he was smiling because Clark wanted to kiss him, and...

Lex caught his face in his hand as Clark bent down, squeezing his cheeks with his fingers. "Your pronunciation is terrible," he whispered in Clark's ear. "We need to work on that."

"Lex--" Clark said, and then Lex had him by the wrist and was tugging him down to sit on the floor in front of the fire.

"Say it again."

"Oh. I... Je veux t'embrasser."

"You want to be... you want to be slurring your words a little. Je veux t'embrasser, Clark," Lex said, his eyes still very wide and somehow... soft. Except this time there was no mistaking the intensity in that look. The heat.

"Je veux t'embrasser," Clark repeated, almost voiceless. "Lex--"

Lex leaned in and brushed his lips against Clark's. Soft and dry, and it made his mouth tingle like sucking ice. Burn like the best itch. Still, Lex pulled back before Clark could soften his mouth or try to kiss back. Lex was breathing hard, eyes flickering back and forth before he glanced back up at Clark, mouth half-open and panting. He shook his head a little, like he couldn't quite believe it either. "Shit..."

But god, Clark was tired of only dreaming it, tired of ever only halfway being kissed. Tired of being treated like a friend.

He wanted a kiss that was a real kiss, and he reached out and cupped Lex's neck in the back of his hand. So soft under his palm. And he took one, kissing Lex as hard as he dared, which wasn't very-- mouth half-open, probably sloppy and clumsy but suddenly Lex's mouth was open too, Lex was kissing and biting at his mouth, just as eager as Clark.

His hands were fisted in the front of Clark's sweater, and then Lex was pulling him forward and down, and Clark could only try to hastily re-arrange his legs and try not to crush Lex as he tumbled down on top of him. And the stand with the fireplace pokers in it went crashing down on the brick hearth. Clark flinched, finding himself between Lex's legs, spread for him. Lex was clutching him between his thighs and oh god, Lex was hard, too.

Lex wanted him. Mouth open and kissing him and hard.

"Lex-- je te veux, Lex. So good. Touche moi--" He blushed hard, suddenly, realizing what he was saying. Lex just stared at him for a long moment, though.

"Quand tu rougis, je veux te croquer comme une pomme," he murmured, and licked Clark's cheek.

Clark blinked as Lex pulled back a little, tugging Clark's sweater and t-shirt up over his head, both at once. When you blush, I want to bite like an apple-- "Lex!"

"Ah, Clark." Lex ran his hands over Clark's chest, smoothing over his shoulders, gentling him like a horse. He hadn't realized he was shaking so badly. "Shh now..."

"Je te veux," Clark gasped, and kissed him again. "Please, Lex, please, s'il vous plaît--"

"Too formal," Lex said, laughing, and Clark corrected himself.

"S'il te plaît-- Lex, please!"

"What do you want, Clark?" Lex asked, his chest heaving under his black dress shirt.

"Je veux être à toi," Clark said, and it was easier in French. "Yours, Lex, not just your friend, I want to belong to you."

"Jesus, Clark," Lex moaned, fingers digging sharply into Clark's shoulders. "Don't say things like that--"

"But it's true."

"Fuck," Lex whispered, jerking up towards him again, and somehow they'd managed to find a perfect rhythm. Sliding against each other, cock to cock through Clark's jeans and Lex's pants, and Clark's ears were burning and he was panting like he'd just run a hundred miles, but it felt so good.

Clark wondered if there was a limit to how much he could possibly blush in any finite period of time. Wondered if was possible that his ears were actually glowing, because it felt like they were. He leaned in to kiss Lex's throat, but Lex pulled back. Smiled a little wider.

Lex's hand was on his face, pressing two fingers to Clark's lower lip. He moved them in to bump against Clark's teeth and then pulled back, just a little.

"Oh," Clark breathed, and Lex's fingers slid in, brushing over his tongue, caressing it. And then Lex's hand was on his face and two of Lex's fingers were in his mouth, clean and faintly bitter taste of some smooth soap. Deep in his mouth, stroking over his tongue. Petting it, and Clark tried to swallow, tried not to drool too much. Tried to keep his arms straight so that he wouldn't crush Lex. He closed his eyes, he couldn't look, couldn't watch Lex watching him do this. Closing his lips around Lex's fingers.

"Suck them," Lex ordered hoarsely, "suck my fingers, Clark," and Clark swallowed convulsively. Closed his eyes and just sucked. Fucking obscene, sucking Lex, and then Lex started to pull them out but then he didn't. Started fucking Clark's mouth with those slick wet fingers and Clark whimpered, loud and embarrassing. His palms skidded against the floor-- feel of wet and rough and slick over his lips-- and he came hard in his jeans, shoving his hips against Lex's, choking as Lex thrust his fingers down into his mouth, again and again. Like nothing else, ever.

Lex kept fucking his mouth slowly as Clark shook and calmed. Like he was making Clark ready. To suck him for real. Hollowing him out, readying him to have Lex inside him. Clark sucked a little harder, following Lex's fingers a little more each time when they pulled out of his mouth, trying desperately not to claw finger marks into the hardwood underneath his hands.

And suddenly he had to move. Pushed Lex's hand away because god he couldn't suck and think at the same time. He undid Lex's belt buckle with shaking hands, unzipped his pants. His mouth felt so empty. Blushing just thinking about what he was going to do.

But he wanted to.

"Oh, Jesus, Clark," and Lex actually sounded shocked, and maybe this was something Lex had been thinking that they were going to move up to. Like, slowly. Except Smallville ideas of first and second and third base just seemed... so far away. They didn't apply to Lex, they didn't apply to what Clark wanted to do.

He licked his lips, and Lex moaned. Lex was cut, like most of the guys in the locker room, but his cock was as bare as the rest of his body. And something about that was just so hot it was almost creepy.

Clark found a grip on Lex's hips, settling betwen Lex's legs. Bending his head, he licked Lex's cock, head to base. Lex cursed in a strangled voice, and Clark smiled and did it again. Slower, letting his tongue slip and slide a little over the wet flesh.

Lex was shuddering like an overworked horse, breathing through gritted teeth, a grimace pasted on his face. Clark was pretty sure that meant he was doing well, though, really, how naive did Lex think he was? And how crazy was it that sex was the one thing he could be really good at, really fast, and not look like a freak? And... Lex tasted incredible.

He caressed the hollow of Lex's hip with his thumb and licked his hand fast, slicking his fingers. Taking Lex's cock cautiously in hand, he slid his lips over the head slowly, taking Lex's cock in, and Lex panted underneath him, harshly, like every breath was being ripped out of him.

Clark slid his tongue around the head of Lex's cock and god, it felt like Lex was getting bigger, harder, in his mouth. Clark grunted, exhaling through his nose, then held his breath and forced his head down a little further. He swallowed as Lex's cock brushed the back of his mouth, and Lex actually whimpered underneath him, pushing and pushing, almost fucking Clark's throat.

Clark swallowed again and again, trying to move with Lex's rhythm, and then he could shift his hand back to Lex's sweet hips because Lex was all the way in. Deep as he could go, Clark's nose mashed into his belly, and Lex was still thrusting raggedly. Something about this reminiscent of... swimming, and the odd association nagged at him until Clark remembered scaring the hell out of Chloe and Pete last summer at the swimming hole. Both of them swearing up and down that they were sure Clark had drowned. He'd been pretty sure they were just being scaredy-cats about it. Until a few months ago, when he'd had to rethink everything, examine every memory. He's not quite sure how long he can hold his breath now. He'd tried testing it out by taking really long baths, but then Mom and Dad started giving him weird looks and...

"Oh, my God," Lex moaned hoarsely, and Clark could almost hear 'you have a gift' in the back of his head. He sniffed hard and choked on a laugh, throat spasming around Lex's cock.

Lex made a helpless noise, tensing underneath him, jerking up against his face, and Clark could feel it when he came, hot and wet. He choked a little and Lex shot down his throat, came in his mouth as Clark pulled back a little, getting it on his face, his chin. He gulped before he thought, bitter taste coating his tongue and throat, then raised a hand to swipe at the come on his face.

Lex pushed himself up, face and chest flushed and glistening with sweat. His eyes were wide and shocked, but not too shocked, and Clark relaxed a little. He grabbed Clark's hand and pulled it to his own mouth. He licked Clark's hand, then pressed a kiss to his palm, leaning forward to clean Clark's face with his tongue. Clark shuddered at the touch. God, he was so hard.

Clark tilted his head back and gasped at the ceiling as Lex licked his Adam's apple and the line of his jaw. And it was like Lex could read his mind, like he knew-- well, Lex was a guy, of course he knew, because he made a soothing little noise and suddenly Lex's hand was in his pants, dry hand sliding over his sticky cock, squeezing just hard enough.

"Yes! Lex--" Clark whimpered and came again, shuddering, curled around Lex like a vine on a wall. When he could breathe again, he stroked Lex's back carefully, daring to cup Lex's neck in one hand. So fragile, so perfect. He slid his hand up, pressing his palm gently over the bump at the top of Lex's spine. "Ta peau... ton odeur." Clark whispered against Lex's skin. "J'en veux encore."

Lex turned to him, smiling lazily, and then frowned. Clark blinked, lips parting slightly, and Lex reached out, tracing a finger slowly over his mouth. "Tu sais, on est en train de parler en français..."

We're speaking French, you know.

Clark blinked, running the past five minutes back through his head.

...want to bite like an apple...

Your skin, your smell, I want more...

Oh.

Huh.

So... maybe he didn't have to use his x-ray vision to scan Lex's brain. Maybe his gifts did cover French homework after all. Wow. Clark could speak French and he'd had sex. Twice. God, he was so much cooler than he'd been two hours ago.

A slow grin broke over Clark's face. He sat up slowly, then stood, wincing as he noticed the fireplace pokers scattered over the hearth. He picked them up and replaced them in the stand, moving a little clumsily. He was all too aware that he'd just had sex. In his jeans. More than once.

He'd just had sex.

He cleared his throat a little and reached for the little towel next to the pitcher of water on the stand by the fireplace, scrubbing at his face and crotch. Blushing again, but hey, it didn't matter, because at least he wasn't a blushing virgin any more.

"Clark...?" Lex asked curiously, and Clark glanced back over his shoulder, mouth hanging slightly open.

"Um." He cleared his throat and turned back around to face Lex, zipping up his jeans. "I... guess all I needed was the right motivation." He grinned.

"But you... I... You sneaky little bastard," Lex stared at him, still half-reclining on the floor. Looking up at Clark like he was the one who'd never had sex before. Clark smiled, then reached down and scooped up his sweater. He pulled it on over his head and double-checked his fly.

"So wait a minute--" Lex sat up, raising a hand, and Clark started gathering up his books and papers.

"Same time next Wednesday?" he said, stuffing his French book back into his backpack. He wouldn't need that any more...

"What?" Lex said, and Clark pushed open Lex's office door.

He glanced out into the hall, then back at Lex. "Well-- you, me, a French movie?" he said. "You know what they say about total immersion. It takes time."

"Yeah," Lex said, and shook his head, hard. "Right."

Clark smiled. "Vous êtes mon professeur préféré, Monsieur Luthor."

Lex narrowed his eyes and glanced around, presumably looking for something to throw. Clark ducked out the door while he was distracted, and zipped on down the hall, smiling.

Glancing back at the office door for a moment, he thought about going back in and adding "Au revoir," but, well. That might really be pushing it.

He slung his backpack over his shoulder and ducked out the front door of the mansion, smiling as the cool twilight air broke across his face. So many things to think about. So much to ponder.

Clark just couldn't stop his imagination from running wild as he dashed down the front steps. Like, how good was Lex going to be at... other things?

Like, for instance, English Lit.

Social studies.

Algebra.

Clark shivered happily, and ran the rest of the way home.

[end]