Sounds

Lex cradled the phone against his face, sighing softly as he heard the continued ringing against his ear.

Fucking caller ID. Everyone had it, now. Even a small farm in goddamned Smallville, Kansas.

He'd nearly given up, when a distinct click sounded and he heard a gruff voice bark into the phone.

"What do you want?"

Lex smiled, pleased. "Well, well, Clark. Your telephone conversational skills have taken a considerable dive since the last time we spoke over the phone. What a shame."

The loud huff of air crackled over the receiver and Lex grinned at the obvious frustration emanating from Clark. Managed, barely, to hold back a chuckle. "I don't have time for your games right now, Lex. What do you want?"

"What do I want? To be quite honest, I was hoping we could talk."

The harsh, abrupt laughter dimmed Lex's smile, and he sucked in a quick breath against the hurt that boiled up inside of him.

"Clark, I just need a minute."

"Well, I don't have a minute for you."

The phone clanged in his ear, and he held the receiver away from his head to prevent any permanent hearing loss. Shaking his head, he moved to replace the phone in its base, when a distinct noise, not a dial tone, fluttered up to him from the receiver still in his hand.

Slowly, quietly, he moved the phone back up to his ear, and held himself still. Listening.

He heard soft, low sounds. Movement, and then an angry voice. Furious. One single, enraged voice.

"Stupid jerk. Why the hell does he have to keep calling?"

Footsteps. Back and forth. Clattering on hard wood floors, and Lex pressed the earpiece closer.

"Always calling. Never lets anything go. Pushing...all the time."

Loud, shaky breaths. Wild and hitching, as the movements sped up. Lex narrowed his eyes, confused, as he heard muffled, shuffling sounds. Quiet and familiar.

Cloth moving, shifting, and then, the abrupt movement of metal teeth scraping against one another. Pulling. A zipper ripped down.

Clark was...

Lex shivered, and he heard the sound of a low groan. Soft, soothing scrapes of skin on skin.

"Always calling...showing up. Always here. Always everywhere. Fucking Lex."

Clark's voice was so low, so dark and chalky dry. He sounded so dry, and needy. Like he needed water. Something. He needed...

"Lex. Damn it. All the fucking time." Skin was sliding against skin, and the sounds were echoing loudly in Lex's ear. He heard the sound of skin turning moist, gliding and so slick. He could practically hear the come spurting out and sliding through busy fingertips.

Clark's voice broke, whined on a loud jerk, and Lex gasped as he heard something break, a loud thump somewhere, and he felt the wetness seep through his pants. Soak the inside of his leg, and he twisted a hand down the inside of his trousers. Moved his hand to shift himself, and felt the gushing spurts of fluid coat his palm, and the skin of his belly.

"Clark." The whisper was so soft, barely there, and he broke as he heard the sound of a fast, shaking breath in his ear. Directly in his ear.

"Lex? You're there."

"Clark, my god." Lex's hand closed tight around his cock. Pulled hard, and he moaned against the feeling sliding up from his balls, and through his shaft, to the tip. Felt it bubble over, and twist him inside out. "You-"

"You were listening."

"Yes." A harder thrust into his hand, and he felt the fabric of his pants rip against the movements of his hand. Didn't stop. "Clark, please, talk to me."

"Did you like that? Hearing me?" Clark sounded angry, embarrassed, and Lex's cock jerked, come dripping out, raging in surges.

"Yes. Yes, I fucking loved it."

"God, Lex."

"Don't stop, Clark. Don't fucking stop." Lex heard his own voice break, and he groaned. Closed his eyes, and lay his head back against the cool leather headrest of his chair. "Don't stop."

"We can't-"

"We are. Clark, just...come on. Talk to me." Soaked. He was soaked. He felt the fabric, sealed to his skin, warm and sticky. Felt the chair beneath him. His hand twisted hard, slipping easily over the smooth skin of his cock. "Say something. Tell me you hate me. Tell me anything."

There was nothing but the sound of slippery skin and harsh breathing, and then he heard Clark move. He heard the sounds of the couch in the loft, the springs protesting as Clark sat down.

"I was thinking about you."

He could feel it start at the base of his fucking neck. Bright and blinding, and he choked on the effort to breathe.

"I was thinking how you'd look, angry and naked; laying face-down on the floor in your office. I was picturing your face turned to the side, glaring at me, while I-"

"Fuck." Lex's arms shook, and he fought to keep his hand around himself. Felt the copious flooding rush over his hand, fever-hot and silky.

His feet stopped him from sliding down completely out of his chair, and his hand shot up, planted itself on his desk, grasping for support. He smiled wryly at the come smeared across the file he had yet to return to his father.

"Clark...we need to talk."

"I think we just did." Clark's voice was quiet, and strange. Different. He felt his spent cock twitch, and winced. "I...have to go."

The click in his ear was soft. Gentle, and he pursed his lips. Pale eyebrows arched in a quick lift as his face brightened past the dark flush that had reddened his face.

He replaced the receiver and pressed the button for the speaker.

"I want a complete visual package out at the Kent farms by tonight. Including the barn." He hung up, smiling.

If all went well, he could call Clark again in the morning.