Pit Stop

By joan the english chick

Disclaimer: The characters and locations of "Angel" and "Smallville" are property of their owners, not mine, and are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is property of the author, and may not be reproduced, retransmitted, or posted anywhere without my expressed permission.
Warnings/Ratings: This story is rated NC-17 for explicit sexual situations and language.
Spoilers: "Angel" 2nd Season through "Dead End." No real "Smallville" spoilers.
Note: I know the timing doesn't exactly work out. You have to bear with me and pretend like AtS "Dead End" happened sometime in mid-Season 1 of "Smallville." Work with me here.
Thanks: To Calligrafiti for beta'ing.

Stepping out of the Talon into the clear afternoon sunshine, Lex spots a pickup truck that looks familiar. It's really quite unmanly the way his breath catches and his pants tighten at the sight, but his long-practiced poker face stays on. He wonders briefly whether it's really gotten that late, for school to be out already. A glance at his watch shows that it is, in fact, almost three-thirty.

He shrugs, puts his hands casually in his pockets, and strolls toward the truck, doing his level best to tamp down the anticipatory smile that insists on creeping over his face every time he thinks he's about to see Clark.

The truck is parked by the curb, motor running, a shape visible in the driver's seat. Lex walks around to the street side, smile widening. Leans against the driver's door, super-cool, slowly turning on his heel to frame himself in the window.

Finds himself face-to-face with a stranger and realizes just a hair too late that it's the wrong truck. Startled, Lex rears back again, the other man regarding him with surprise shading toward amusement.

"Help you?" He's a bit older than Lex, thirty maybe, decked out like a farmer -- jeans, flannel, the whole bit -- but looks a little too soft for it, incongruous in the clothes and the truck; just *wrong* in some indefinable way. Lex finds himself fixating on the other man's lower lip, pouty and enticing.

"Uh, sorry." Manages to pull some of his composure back around him, leans against the truck again. Hands still in his pockets, starting to sweat just a little like they always do at the beginning of a flirt. "I thought you were someone else, a friend. The truck," indicating it with a flick of his chin. "Looks like his."

"Must be a good friend," the stranger puts in smoothly, a quick lift of the eyebrows indicating Lex's smile, and Lex almost shivers. Well, this is new; a farmer who flirts back. He usually has to go in to Metropolis to find cute guys who know how to do the seduction dance.

"Eh, good enough," he shrugs, a silent apology to Clark in the back of his mind. Now he notices, beside the work gloves and the empty coffee cups on the seat, the map opened over the steering wheel. "Lost?"

The other guy follows his gaze, sweeps the map away onto the passenger seat. "Just getting my bearings. Taking a break."

Lex knows an opening when he sees one. "Been driving long?"

"Bit too long, yeah. Almost there though," he sighs, glancing at the map in a way that suggests he's not a hundred percent thrilled to be 'almost there.'

"Take a real break, one where you actually get out of the car," Lex urges. "Let me buy you a latte -- coffee-shop right down the street. Wouldn't want you getting the wrong impression of Smallville hospitality."

The stranger looks out the windshield, indecisive. "Thing is, I'm not much for crowds at the moment." If he'd spoken that last line with any hint of the coquette, any coy dipping of the eyes or sly sideways wink, Lex might have considered it another opening -- but there's a darkness behind the statement, something ugly that matches the bruised skin under his eyes but not the clean simplicity of his farm-boy clothing and mud-stained truck.

"I know the feeling," Lex murmurs, studying the stranger. Lex is deeply intrigued, drawn to whatever the other man is hiding (and of course still fascinated by that lower lip). There aren't many people in Smallville like this, people whose lidded eyes make Lex shiver in sympathy and apprehension, like looking in a time-delayed mirror.

The other man turns to look at Lex again, realizes he's let his shadows out, and visibly shakes it off, straightening up in the driver's seat, blinking a little too fast. "Besides," he adds with a flash of self-deprecating grin, "I think I've already had enough coffee for one week."

Lex returns the smile with a shaded one of his own. Damn the torpedoes, he thinks, why be shy? "Well, I'd be remiss if I let you leave our fair town without a chance to rest and refresh for the rest of your trip. Why not come by my place, kick back for a bit?"

The stranger seems to be looking at him for the first time, leaning forward a bit to peer over the edge of the car door so he can get the full effect of Lex's finely tailored suit. "I'm guessing you don't own a farm in the area," he quips, bringing Lex's smile back.

"No." Holds out his hand, a bit belatedly. "Lex Luthor."

The barest flicker of the eyelids indicates that the stranger recognizes the name. Whatever it means to him, he doesn't react beyond that. Shifts away from the door again and puts his right hand through the window to shake. The hand is soft -- not pudgy from disuse, but smooth, callus-free. His grip is strong. Peeking out from under his flannel shirt's sleeve, a thin red scar seems to snake around the circumference of the wrist. Lex tries not to stare at it.

"Lindsey MacDonald," the new guy says calmly. "I ain't old, but I do have a farm."

Lex flashes a quick grin to show he got the joke, though children's songs aren't his forte. "Nice to meet you, Lindsey. Care to step into my Porsche? Your truck should be safe here."

Lindsey chuckles briefly, rueful. "Safe. Kansas. Bet I could even leave the windows down, right?"

"Wouldn't doubt it."

Lindsey hesitates, giving Lex another cautious once-over. Then he shrugs, reaches over to take the keys from the ignition. Lex steps back from the door so it can open, watches the other man slide out. They're about the same height, though Lindsey is stockier, and -- his faded jeans leaving little to the imagination -- it's pretty much all muscle.

Good thing Lex spent all that time perfecting his poker face, otherwise he might be blushing pretty darn intensely when his eyes travel back up to Lindsey's and he realizes Lindsey is watching Lex check him out.

Swallows down his embarrassment and turns it into another flirt. "Well?" is all Lex says before he turns and saunters off toward his car. Doesn't bother looking back to make sure he's being followed.

It's a half hour later and Lex is standing in the doorway of his den, studying his guest. Only left him alone for a moment to check with the staff about tomorrow's appointments. Lindsey stands by the window, gazing out at the Luthor estate, a glass of red wine resting casually in his hand.

Despite the newcomer's workday clothing, battered truck, faint accent, and effort to sprinkle his dialogue with 'ain't,' it's clear that he's no farmer. There's another part of him seeping through, made evident by his soft hands and businesslike handshake, his haunted eyes, and -- probably the most telling -- his total lack of discomfort with the trappings of wealth. He didn't flinch when getting into the Porsche, sat in its buttery leather seat with complete ease. Strolled into the manor as if nothing could impress him, nodded approval at the label on the bottle of wine, swirled and sniffed and tasted the wine like a connoisseur. In short, he acts like a rich kid playing farmer -- but that's not it either, Lex thinks. More like the opposite, like some very twisted Shakespearean comedy of mistaken identity. A black comedy, most probably.

Lindsey turns, catches sight of Lex looking at him. His lips quirk slightly. "Like what you see?"

"I was just going to ask you the same thing," Lex replies, walking into the room, picking up his own glass from the sideboard.

"Damaged goods," Lindsey mumbles, ducking his head defensively, covering something up (disappointment?) behind a sip of wine. Lex walks closer, catching his guest's eyes in a direct gaze.

"Hey." A deliberate shrug, meaning acceptance, not dismissal. "You look like a guy who's battled a few demons. So what?"

Lindsey gives a real chuckle at that, actual amusement finally seeming to touch his eyes. "If you only knew how true that was." He takes another sip. "This is really good stuff. I didn't know there was any of the '81 left."

"We have a pretty extensive collection here." Lex watches Lindsey put the glass down on a side table, watches Lindsey watch him as Lex takes another few steps toward him. Puts his own glass down as well. "Would you like to see the wine cellar?"

Lindsey gives a small but eloquent shudder, glances away. "Thanks anyway. Bad associations."

"I'm sorry."

Back in control, Lindsey returns his gaze to Lex's. "It's no big deal. I appreciate your hospitality."

"It's my pleasure," says Lex, and yeah, he does mean it as a double-entendre, of course, but that doesn't mean he's expecting what happens next.

Which is Lindsey going to his knees in a single graceful movement, his hands reaching for Lex's belt.

Lex inhales sharply in surprise but doesn't move to stop those nimble fingers. They pull his belt open, unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper.

"I didn't - you-" Lex tries, feeling words leave him along with all the blood heading south. Lindsey's hand cupping him through his trousers is warm and confident. Lex's skin tingles with excitement.

"Yeah." Lindsey flicks a quick glance up at Lex's face, amused, teasing. "Sure." Reaches into Lex's briefs and pulls out his cock. Lindsey's touch is practiced, gentler than expected, and Lex chokes a little on his next breath, which turns into a gasp as he begins to harden rapidly in the other man's hand. His expensive, carefully pressed pants pool untidily around his ankles, quickly followed by his purple silk briefs.

Lindsey smirks in self-satisfaction, moves his hand roughly up and down the length, and leans in. His tongue peeks out, darting at the head to taste it, then running lightning-fast down the underside and back up again. Lex groans, clenching his hands by his sides. Pre-cum is already seeping out of his cock and Lindsey spreads it down the shaft, moving his hand up and down with a slow, maddening movement, brushing little licks across the head.

Lex loveshates being teased this way. His breathing is fast and erratic now, his eyes drifting shut. Lindsey pauses, reaches with his free hand to seize Lex's wrist and pull Lex's hand forward. He places it on his own head, then moves his hand back to Lex's hip, squeezing lightly. He resumes licking around the head of Lex's cock, quick stabs followed by wide sweeps of his tongue, moving now to place his lips around the head and suck briefly before returning to licking.

Lex digs his fingers into Lindsey's thick brown hair, silky-soft to the touch, cupping the back of Lindsey's head as Lindsey puts his lips back around the head of Lex's cock and sucks slowly, letting it slide bit by bit into his mouth, his tongue in constant motion around it. Lex hears himself moaning again and doesn't bother trying to hold it back. It's not like the servants will be hearing anything new.

Lindsey pauses again, lets Lex slide wetly out from between his lips, looking up at Lex's face through a drift of pale brown hair that makes him look oddly coy. "Harder," he says hoarsely and his voice is made for lust, the rasp of it in his throat sounds like the essence of sex. Lex puffs out an incredulous breath.

"Isn't that my line?"

A wider, wicked smile spreads across Lindsey's face, completing the impression his voice gave. He grabs Lex's other hand and shoves it into his hair, roughly. Grabs Lex's cock and takes half of it in his mouth at one go.

Lex makes another desperate noise and curls his hand hard into Lindsey's scalp, twisting bits of hair between his fingers. Feels himself slip farther down Lindsey's throat. Feels the vibration as Lindsey grunts in approval. Feels Lindsey's other hand slipping between his legs and fondling his balls, and then Lex is coming, his mouth open, eyes closed, gasping incoherently and feeling Lindsey's cheek muscles work as he swallows it all.

Slowly Lex realizes he's practically pulling Lindsey's hair out, and unclenches his hands carefully. But keeps them on the other man's hair, thinking he might fall over if not for that contact to anchor him. He looks down to see Lindsey looking up at him, not smirking any more, just watching him, one hand resting on Lex's thigh in a possessive way. Lindsey's lips, reddened and swollen, look more enticing than ever.

Lex is about to say something to that effect when Lindsey moves his other hand, and Lex realized it's still there, cupping his balls, nestled between his legs. Then it moves farther back and he feels soft fingertips flirting with his anus. Lex inhales and licks his dry lips, watching Lindsey watch as he does.

"Can I?" says Lindsey, almost a whisper. Lex shivers.

"God, yes." Lets his hands slide down out of Lindsey's hair to cup his face; bends down and finally gets a taste of that tantalizing lower lip. Sucks and chews on it, feeling Lindsey's pulse pounding wildly under his thumbs, hearing broken whimpers from the other man's throat.

Lex pulls Lindsey to his feet, never breaking the kiss. Presses their bodies together and he can feel Lindsey's arousal against his stomach. Pushes the flannel shirt off Lindsey's shoulders and away, running greedy hands over Lindsey's well-muscled chest, smiling breathlessly when a hard twist of one nipple makes Lindsey jerk and whimper again. They stumble toward the fireplace, joined at the mouth, their tongues twisting around each other, hands everywhere. The carpet by the fire is thick and plush, a conceit of Victoria's that Lex has had ample opportunity to appreciate since their split. He and Lindsey fall onto it, tugging off the last of their clothing, pressing against each other again, panting and groaning at the delicious touch of sweat-slick skin on skin.

"There ... table, drawer," Lex manages, pulling his mouth away from Lindsey's long enough to indicate the low table nearest the fireplace, beside the leather-covered sofa. Lindsey hitches himself up on one arm to reach into the drawer and pull out the bottle of lube and a condom.

As Lex takes the items, his eye is caught again by the glistening red scar running around Lindsey's wrist. He brings the arm up to his face, studies it for a moment, then traces the path of the scar with his tongue. Lindsey shudders violently, gasps, his cock throbbing and bouncing in the corner of Lex's vision.

"Please," he breathes, and Lex lets go of his wrist, flicking the cap off the bottle with a practiced motion. Lex can't help grinning; he loves it when pretty boys beg to fuck him. He shoves Lindsey down onto his back and climbs over him, straddling him, still grinning.

"Say it again."

"Please," says Lindsey, so quickly he must have played this scene before. Lex reaches down and quickly unrolls the condom onto Lindsey's cock, then reaches between his own thighs to spread lube onto himself, oiling his ass up thoroughly. Tosses the bottle aside and grabs Lindsey's cock, gives it a few quick merciless strokes to wipe the rest of the lube onto the condom. Lindsey bucks upward fiercely, clawing at the rug and groaning.

Lex grins even more and moves up, placing one palm on Lindsey's sweaty stomach. Reaches the other hand down and guides Lindsey's cock into position, the head slipping just inside. Then he puts both hands on Lindsey's belly and begins to move, slowly working his way down, taking Lindsey deeper and deeper inside him until he's all the way in.

Pauses to admire the sight stretched out underneath him: sweaty hair sticking to Lindsey's forehead, his eyes half-closed, chest heaving, hands still fisted in the thick pile of the carpet. Feeling Lex stop moving, Lindsey opens his eyes fully and looks up at him, glazed with lust.

"Again," Lex orders, holding absolutely still. Lindsey licks his swollen lips, his gaze insolent.

"Please," he whispers fervently, and pleasure floods Lex's senses. He starts to move again.

Rocking himself up and down on Lindsey's cock, riding him hard, Lex looks down and watches the other man starting to let go. Watches his own cock respond, swelling and bouncing with his movements. He closes his eyes now, concentrates on the feeling of Lindsey's shaft moving inside him. Clenches his muscles around it to increase the friction even more and hears Lindsey groan loudly, almost a sob. Feels him twitching and writhing, shuddering in climax and then going limp.

Lex opens his eyes and finds Lindsey still staring at him, eyes half-closed again, still panting. Slowly, Lindsey starts to get his breathing under control. Slowly, he lifts his hand and wraps it around Lex's cock, begins to jerk him off.

"God," Lex groans, giving himself over to it. Thrusts forward into Lindsey's hand and feels Lindsey's cock slipping out of him.

"Stop it, evil hand," the smirking Lindsey says, or something like that, but Lex barely notices because he's coming again. His semen spills out across Lindsey's hand and belly, but the other man clearly doesn't care. Lex sighs loudly and collapses on the rug beside his lover.

After a few quiet moments, as their harsh breathing slowly gentles, Lex takes up Lindsey's hand again -- some fibers from the rug sticking to the fingers -- and looks once more at the scar. "Care to tell me about this?"

"Not really." A pause, and as if realizing that sounded rude, Lindsey adds, "But if you insist...."

"Nah. None of my business really." Lex sits up. "Shower?"

Lindsey's hooded expression is back, his forehead creased a little with worry. "I, uh, I should probably-"

"You should shower with me, is what you should probably," Lex tells him firmly. "And then hit the road. Gotta get home on the range, right?"

"Yeah." Lindsey sits up as well. Lex leans over and pulls him in for a lingering kiss.

They shower together, but they're worn out enough that that's all they do. Lindsey washes Lex with an odd tenderness, as if he's accustomed to bathing fearful wild animals.

Afterward, Lindsey puts his jeans and flannel back on, finishes the glass of wine, and accepts a large mug of coffee as well. He confers briefly with one of the servants about his route home, and then Lex drives him back into town to get his truck.

"Safe driving," Lex offers, leaning against the driver's door again, elaborately casual for the benefit of all eyes. "Smallville welcomes you back anytime."

"Thanks for the hospitality," Lindsey replies, smirking again. And Lex has to step back, because he wants to kiss Lindsey again, seriously, and not that he gives a crap what the people of Smallville think of him, but.

Shoots Lindsey an apology with his eyes, receiving in return a small shrug of understanding. So Lex just turns and walks away, not listening for the truck's engine to start up. Gets back in his Porsche and heads home.

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joan the english chick
Last updated 12 April 2002