My late entry for the Literary Challenge, which turned out to work for the Frottage Challenge as well. Eliza said it makes a lovely little Valentine's Day Card (as in Valentine Pelka, he of Kronos/Luis Montoya fame). So, Happy Valentine's Day, everybody! Watch your favorite Kronos ep of Highlander or Luis ep of Queen of Swords to celebrate. Betaed by Peach, 'tilla, Eliza, and Jenn. For Jenn, for her birthday. Written to DMB's "You Never Know," though that may not be obvious. Peach's culinary comparison: "Chocolate wafers. They're crunchy and sweet, and crispier than regular chocolate bars. "So I guess that makes the sex the chocolate and the sometimes-snarky conversation the wafer? ... something like that."

Lit Challenge Question: Are there more footprints on the surface of the moon or the bottom of the sea?

Required word: Holy

Taboo word: a

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"There's this question I have," Lex says, plucking the paper out of Clark's hands and tucking one long finger into the top of his jeans.

"I was reading that," Clark protests without too much conviction, allowing Lex to tug him out of his corner of the couch and smiling when Lex pushes him down against the cushions and settles in on top of him. Lex kisses him, slow and sweet, but before Clark can really start to reciprocate, Lex is up on his elbows.

"The question," Lex says as though he had never paused, "is one you might be able to answer for me."

Clark untucks Lex's shirt from his pants and slides his hands up Lex's back. Lex arches into the contact, but does not let Clark urge him down. Clark sighs.

"All right, Lex, what's the question?"

"Are there more footprints on the moon, or the bottom of the ocean?"

Clark blinks. He blinks again. "What?"

"Footprints, Clark."

"I heard that part. Why are you wondering that?"

"It might be because you could answer it." Lex cocks his head. "Haven't you ever wondered anything like that?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Clark is silent, feeling the warmth of Lex's back against his hands as he considers the question. Finally, he says, "It might be because I could answer it."

"You don't wonder about questions you can answer?"

"Sometimes I do." Lex's hand slides into his hair, and Clark closes his eyes. "Sometimes I just want...mystery."

"And there's no mystery in questions you can answer?"

"There is, but then I feel the urge to answer them, and then there's no mystery."

"I see." And now at last Lex lowers himself back down again, lips pressing lightly against Clark's throat as he speaks. "And how do you resolve this dilemma?"

"I wonder about questions you can answer."

"Like what?"

"Like...." Clark pauses, focusing on the feel of Lex's mouth. Breathes in Lex's scent, subtle and warm and addictive. Asks softly, "Do you really wonder about footprints when we're like...this?"

He feels an open-mouthed kiss to his throat, Lex's tongue tracing patterns. "No, Clark."

"What do you think about?"

Lex slides up to take his mouth again, this kiss slow and thorough like the one on his throat. Lex always starts out tasting him as carefully as wine, but it's never long before he's being devoured like homemade chocolate frosting. Clark doesn't mind. He gets his own private Lexfeast in return.

Lex works his hand between them, unbuttoning Clark's jeans as he pulls away from Clark's mouth and kisses his way over to Clark's ear. Clark groans, lifting his own hand and placing it on Lex's wrist, sliding it up the warm, soft arm, caressing without interfering. Lex whispers in his ear, and the brush of breath against his skin is as perfect as the fingers opening his fly.

"When I was little, my mother would take me to mass for the holidays," Lex says. "She wasn't particularly religious, but Our Lady of Metropolis is considered one of the most exquisite cathedrals in the U. S., and my mother loved the statues of the saints. She said they were so beautiful, their beauty alone made them holy. She said that kneeling in their midst, she felt holy too."

"Lex," Clark breathes as Lex coaxes his hips up, grabbing the waistband of jeans and boxers and pulling down until Clark is bare to mid-thigh. Clark moves his hand to Lex's belt, but Lex stops him, smiling in the way that will always stop Clark's breath.

"I thought the statues were beautiful, but I didn't understand what my mother meant about beauty being holy." Lex releases his hand and settles back on top of him, linen brushing his bared erection. Clark sucks in air, raising his hands to rest them on Lex's hips, and Lex's smile grows dreamy as he begins to rock. "I didn't understand until the first time I saw you, Clark. No statue of any saint could ever compare."

"Lex," Clark says again. It's the only word he remembers how to say. Lex kisses him again, and Clark doesn't need to breathe, he's sure he doesn't. If there's any justice at all to this alien thing, he can just keep kissing Lex like this, just keep rocking up into Lex. Soft, soft fabric and hot, hard body on top of him, brushing against him in the perfect rhythm.

But Lex needs to breathe, and Clark can't stop the growl of protest when he loses contact with that mouth. Lex chuckles, and Clark is somewhat mollified by how breathless it sounds.

"You're all I think about, Clark," Lex murmurs, and the sound of his voice is just perfect. Clark's body agrees, and he can't stop himself from moving faster, driving the rhythm harder. Lex goes with it, watching him so intently that Clark has to close his eyes against the look. He feels Lex shift on top of him, and then Lex's voice is there again, right in his ear.

"What do you think about, Clark, when we're like this?"

Clark opens his mouth and gives him the word, the only one he can remember. He whispers it, then gasps it as he ruins another pair of Lex's pants, and some part of him notes that it's good that Lex is rich, all the clothes he's gone through since meeting Clark. That part is small, though; the rest of him is too busy feeling...holy.

Lex stops moving suddenly, and Clark smiles at the sensation of heat and wet ruining Lex's pants from the other side. He slides his hands up from Lex's hips to his back again, and Lex doesn't protest as Clark pulls him down, even though they'll dry sticky and Lex usually insists on cleaning up right away. Clark feels Lex's lips press softly to his throat, and returns the favor just above Lex's ear.

"Do you want me to count the footprints on the moon for you?" he whispers into the skin there, and he feels Lex smile.

"Not yet. I think I'm in the mood for some mystery."

~END~