Get Him A BJ --- Either Kind by philtre
Mirror Site


Title:  Get him a BJ... either kind
Author:  philtre
Fandom:  Smallville
Category:  Humour, PWP
Pairing:  Clark/Lex
Players: (in order of appearance) Chloe, Clark, Adam, Pete, Pete's gf, Lex and along the way, plot contrivances.
Rating:  R (because there are ppl getting shit-faced drunk and there's other 'activity' as well)
Spoilers: Um. I think not.
Disclaimer:When I've downed about 10 shots of vodka, I actually think I own all of this. But all too soon, I'm sober and I realize - the only thing I own is a half-dead plant.
Summary: Guess who gets to deal with Clark drunk?
Author's note: I insist that Clark can get drunk.
Part of The Booze Fuh-Q Fest
Feedback: Vodka may be my poison of choice, but feedback makes me reconsider alcoholism. Support sobriety. Lol. Am I preaching to the choir?
Thank you: to Reetchick, who most certainly makes betaing an art form. I bow at your feet. 
Archiving: At or at the mirror site


"Wakey, wakey, Clark!!"

He scrubbed his eyes at the blinding light. What the fuck?! He'd just gotten into bed less than - it couldn't be morning yet.

"Come on, Clark. Wake up!!"

With a desperate groan, he propped himself up on his elbows. "Why?"

His eyes adjusted and he found Chloe, Adam, Pete and whatever Pete's new girlfriend's name was grinning at him.

"Because you --" He pretended to wince when Chloe whapped him on the head. "-- forgot my birthday again."

"Isn't it tomor -- oh." Right. He was awake now. With a grimace, he reached under his bed and extracted the as-yet-unwrapped present. Giving her a weak smile and a shrug, he held out the present to her. "Happy Birthday?"

"Hmmph." She pouted petulantly and grabbed the present. "You mean twenty-first birthday, don't ya?"

"I'm sorry I forgot."

"I can't believe you forgot, man. I left like 5 messages to remind you." Pete shook with laughter.

Clark turned to look guiltily at his answering machine, which happily blinked '12' at him. Ooops.

"What the?!" Clark suddenly had a hundred odd pounds of a very excited blonde on top of him.

"You remembered!! You're the absolute best!!" Chloe gave him a huge, slobbery kiss on the cheek. Glad she at least likes the book. "Alright, Farm Boy, you're off the hook for getting me this present. But you need to get out of this bed. Come on." Chloe grabbed his wrist, trying to pull him out of his bed. "Oh and as added penance, you're going to buy me blowjobs all night long."

He was still groggy as she forced him to dress, shoving pieces of clothing at him. "I'm just going to assume that you're talking about the drink because unless Adam's stranger than I thought, I don't think he'd appreciate it if you have a di--" Oh right. "Owww."

Adam slugged Clark's shoulder playfully. "I'd pipe down if I were you, buddy."

"Yeah. We all know you've got that particular skill down pat." Pete nudged Adam.

"Hey, Mandy. Keep your man on a shorter leash, would ya?" Mandy. Yeah. That was her name.

"Oooh. Tough guy needs his girlfriend to stick up for him!"

Adam grabbed Pete in a head lock. "Apologize, short stick!"

He finally slackened his hold when Pete waved his hands in defeat. "Well?"

Pete grinned. "Yo mama!"

His two friends wrestled animatedly as he turned to Chloe. "Why am I dressed?"

"We" She linked an arm around his. "Are going out."

She dragged him towards the door, pausing dramatically at the entrance. "And if my boyfriend doesn't haul ass, we'll just have to replace him."

Adam grinned brightly, then sneaked up behind her, grabbing her by the waist to lift her off the ground. He planted a nauseatingly sweet kiss on her cheek as he twirled her around. "Sorry, care bear. You're stuck with me."

He locked his door, then followed the two couples to the elevator. Shit. Fifth wheel again. He really needed to find a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. Yeah. Some time soon he was going to stop denying that he found men really attractive. Especially a certain bald --

"God! Earth to Clark!"

He jerked out of his daydream to find four sets of expectant eyes staring at him from within the elevator. Smile. Get in elevator.


Getting shit-faced drunk was an art form, unless you were doing it with a very determined Chloe Sullivan. In which case, it was a natural disaster - an earthquake on the day that half the city was wiped out because of a flash flood and the other half because of a bush fire.

Which was exactly how Clark felt right about when they stumbled out of -- what was the name of the bar again? He turned to read the sign above the door. Why was the everything spinning?

"Clark? Clark!?"

And when the hell did his head get so heavy? Following the voice, he smiled.

"Hi Pete." And his girlfriend. Shit. He forgot her name again. Dammit, Pete. Stop changing your girlfriends before I can actually remember their names. "I can't remember your name."

Pete's girlfriend started giggling. "Neither can I!!"

"Hey. You guys going to be okay? Chloe's really out of it. I'm going to take her home."

Clark turned to where a blonde girl was throwing up at the side of the road. He should really walk over to help her hold her hair back. Oh never mind. It was Chloe. Adam would help her. Right. And there he was, holding her hair back. Holding her up. Must be nice to have a boyfriend. Wish I had a boyfriend. Huh.

"Pete. Get Clark a cab?"

Pete, who was not exactly looking his best, nodded as he struggled to keep his girlfriend standing. It really *is* nice to have a boyfriend. Maybe if he had a boyfriend, said boyfriend would be helping him stand too. Which actually would have been kind of nice right about -- then.

He scrambled to his feet, grabbing Pete's arm for support. "I'm fine. I'm okay!" He swallowed. God. His entire mouth was numb. "You should really get me a cab."

Somehow, he was stuffed into a cab. Good.

"Where to?" Not good.

Shit. Where did he live? Dammit. He knew moving was a bad idea. If anyone asked him if he had lived in his current place for two months -- no, three months -- hang on -- no, two months -- -- whatever -- he was going to deny it. Yeah. Deny!!

"Where to?"

"Uh." Light bulb. "Luthor plaza."


"Heyyy, Jack. How's it going?"

He gave Jack a high five. And missed. Twice. Okay. Time to stop high-fiving.

"Um. Can you let me up?"

Jack was looking slightly afraid. Didn't Jack like him? "Uh. Let me just call up."

Lex sure took long to answer his phone. Tick-tock, Lex. Mice are getting antsy.

"Uh. Mr. Luthor. You told me to let Mr. Kent through whenever he showed up? Does that include four thirty am?"

Awww. Lex told security to let him in whenever. All right, so maybe he hadn't bonded with the security guards as well as he had initially thought.

"Right. Right. Of course, Mr. Luthor. Right away, sir."

Apparently, Lex could make people grovel even via the phone. Lex is so cool. Clark grinned. He was going to tell Lex that.


Wow. Downy does make your sheets soft.

Clark stretched in the bed, strangely curious as to why he hadn't put on his PJ's the night before. And why he didn't spend more time in his evidently very soft and comfy bed. And also why his hand just bumped into --

He leaped out of his bed. Amend that. Lex's bed. Oh. Fuck!

All right. First off - what was he doing at Lex's? Secondly - why was he in Lex's bed? Thirdly and at that moment, slightly more importantly - why was he wearing only his boxers?

His eyes widened as bits and pieces of the night before flooded his mind. Alcohol -- baaaad. This was -- This was bad. Very.

He stood frozen as Lex shifted in his sleep, the sheets slipping to reveal a bare chest. His body quickly recognized 'sexy', but his brain was stuck on 'oh fuck'.

Badly enough for him, that was about the time that Lex decided to wake up. To find a very aroused albeit shell-shocked Clark staring at his naked chest. Anytime the floor decided to swallow him up would be good. Or if some bolt from the blue wanted to strike him, that would be acceptable too.

Slightly bleary eyes settled on him. "How are you feeling?"

Uh. Horny?

"Bathroom's right there."

Bathroom. Good idea! He turned quickly and practically ran to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. There was a sickening puke-like taste in his mouth and, frankly, it was grossing him out. Plus, the sight that greeted him as he turned to the mirror was, to be kind, not good. He had food stuck to his cheek. And stuff in his eyes. And dried drool on his chin. And oh God! Bed hair. Not to mention the biggest boner since Bedrock.

Oh. And don't forget the additional joy of remember absolutely nothing about what had happened the night before. On the off chance that it was even a possibility, he fervently hoped that he hadn't done anything stupid.

Finally, after washing his face clean, feeling less shitty and ensuring that his arousal had somewhat diminished, he cracked open the bathroom door. Lex was sitting on the bed, watching the door. Composed as ever in his silk pajama bottoms. 

"You feeling okay?"

He hid behind the door and plastered what he hoped was contrite apology on his face. "Uh. Should I be apologizing for anything I did last night?"

Lex raised his eyebrows. "Well. Let's see. There's the showing up at my apartment at four-thirty in the morning - that's okay. Not like I have a meetinng at ten. There's the telling me repeatedly how 'cool' I am - which admittedly stroked my ego slightly. 

"There's the, uh, insisting on eating all my cold, leftover Chinese - also not a problem since I was planning on throwing it out. There's the vomiting all over yourself - which would not have been as much of a problem if you could have actually undressed yourself.

"There's also the telling me how sexy you think I am - I'm pretty sure that's not a problem. Oh, and of course, there's the refusing to sleep anywhere else but in my bed - I was more than happy to give it up, more so if you hadn't dragged me into the bed before I got a chance to put on a new shirt since you puked all over the one that I had on."

Long, drawn-out silence.


Lex merely continued staring at him. "Are you hung over?"

There was something to be said for alien physiology. "No."

"In that case, get out of my bathroom so I can brush my teeth and wash the stench of your puke off my body."

Clark opened the door completely, watching as Lex glided past him and closed the door. He looked around for his clothes, but couldn't seem to find them. There was, however, a pair of sweats and a T-shirt folded neatly on the bed. He had no idea if they were for him, but he really did not relish the idea of still being in only his boxers when Lex came out of the bathroom.

He sat down on the chair next to the dresser, staring morosely at the bed before him. Well, at least he hadn't tried to kiss Lex or anything.

Or maybe he did! And Lex was not telling him about it!

He stewed in his panicked thoughts for ten long minutes. Listened as the shower turned on, then some time after, off. Did not imagine Lex naked. Most definitely did not use his x-ray vision to sneak a peek. His head was pounding.

Then out came Lex, with nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips. Clark had seen tons of men naked in the locker room before - not a big deal. Or so he tried telling his dick.

Lex walked past him into his dressing room, emerging shortly after in his usual immaculate black slacks and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Even dressed he was hot. God. Clark Kent. Drag your mind out of the gutter.

"Come on. I know you're hungry."

Clark followed Lex wordlessly to the kitchen, watching as he pulled out container after container of food. Lex moved around the kitchen in brisk efficiency, setting down plates, heating up food, pouring out juice. Then they ate - in silence.

When he was done, he finally glanced up at Lex, spotting a flicker of what he hoped was amusement sparkling behind the cool blue eyes.

"Want to tell me what last night was about?"

Clark lifted one shoulder slowly. "It was Chloe's birthday."

"I know. I sent her a present."

"Oh. What did you get her?"

Lex lifted one eyebrow. Right. Changing the topic did *not* work.

"I'm really sorry about everything, Lex. I was really drunk."

"I noticed."

"I didn't mean to -- come on to you."

Lex smirked. "What a disappointment."

Clark froze. "Do you -- -- -- want me to -- comeontoyou?"

Lex shrugged. "Preferably when you're sober."

Clark gaped at Lex for about an eternity before scrambling around the table. Grabbing Lex by his arms, he turned the man around and took a deep breath. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, then leaned down and bumped his lips hard against Lex's.

He straightened quickly, opening his eyes slowly to check out Lex's reaction. Not running and screaming. All good so far.

Lex licked his lips with great relish. Then chuckled softly. "You might want to work on your technique."

Clark grinned. "Wanna help me out?"

He could so get used to that combination of a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"Well, considering the unsuspecting populace you might try that on, I think it's my civic duty."

He definitely could get used to having Lex's body pressed against his. And Lex's lips kissing him. And -- God -- Lex's tongue in his mouth. And Lex'ss hand on his -- ass.


Hours later, when they were lying in Lex's bed, with Lex combing his fingers through Clark's hair, Clark grinned into Lex's chest.

"I should get drunk more often."

The hand stopped mid-stroke.

"Or -- I could not," he offered.

The stroking resumed. 

Note to self: Alcohol = bad. Well... except when it leads to amazing sex with Lex. In which case it's very good. Four-orgasms good. Not counting Lex's. How many times *did* Lex --

He shook himself mentally. Why was he thinking to himself when he could be -- doing stuff to Lex? Clark couldn't resist a grin. He was just ful> of great ideas.

Yeah. He'd just tell himself that the entire thing was part of his devious master plan. Uh huh. Planned all along.

Even I don't believe you!

Right. Brain, shut down.

Lex. Mmmm.


If you enjoyed this story, why not let the author know? : 
Happy Hour
The Fest Archive
Outside Links
Author Home Pages
Pink Elephants
 Drive Me Home
Fest Main Page

Free Web Hosting