by C.M. Decarnin
"So... Do you brush your teeth?"
"Yeah, I brush my teeth."
"You mean they decay?"
"I don't think so. I've never had a cavity."
"I brush them so they aren't covered with moss on the north side. It puts people off if they don't have to ask what you had for breakfast."
Lex rolled over on him. "Oh I don't know. I like it when you taste like strawberries. Or Cocoa Puffs."
"I don't eat Cocoa Puffs. I'm not eight."
"I don't think those cereals even exist any more."
"Oh no? Then what is that chocolatey goodness I taste in your mouth so often? Hm?"
"I wouldn't know. Maybe just a blowback illusion from all that ancient brandy and scotch on your breath. There's probably a reason they call it malt whiskey."
"There is, and it has nothing to do with the Olde Soda Shoppe. You can't distract me from my scientific inquiry that easily." And Lex's tongue started to make its way, bit by bit, between Clark's lips.
"Mm," said Clark. The conversation would have ended there had not Lex sniffed appreciatively.
"I love that aftershave you wear," he said with his mouth full.
"I don't use aftershave."
"You do shave, don't you?"
Clark squirmed a little.
"I mean you're sixteen, you must --"
"Move your leg just a -- Ho. There," Clark gasped.
"I love the way you look when I do that."
"Uhnnnn," groaned Clark lengthily as Lex kept doing it.
"So what's that fragrance," Lex crooned, against the neck just starting to dampen with perspiration. "I'm prepared to torture it out of you."
"Oh no you don't. I can tell you're still capable of speech."
Clark writhed and grabbed.
"Uh uh uh. Is it black coconut?"
With a long, trembling sigh, Clark complained, "Not everybody wears perfume."
"Are you impugning the masculinity of my cologne?"
Clark's big hands gently captured Lex's head. "I like it okay. It's sandalwood, right?" He smiled confessionally. "I saw it on your dresser one time. I even sneaked a little bit on so I could smell you after I went home. It kind of reminds me of my Mom's cedar chest. But I like the way you smell under it the best."
"So, you're saying I shouldn't wear it?"
"No." Patiently Clark stroked down Lex's neck and shoulder. "I'm saying there's no way you could smell that would make me not want to make out with you."
Lex's smile was big, genuine, unpredatory. Clark smiled back and tilted his head. "So are we done with perfume? Can we move on?"
"It's ambergris, isn't it. It's so faint..."
"Lex, I'm not wearing anything! I never do, not even deodorant."
"You don't wear deodorant?" Lex dived for Clark's armpit and nuzzled in it, sniffing, making Clark's whole body crook ticklishly. "You don't! I can't smell anything chemical, no glycols or alcohol --" He breathed in.
"It's you." Lex looked down at him, realization in his wide eyes. "You -- That's -- It's just how you smell!" Concepts kept opening up in Lex's stare. Finally he said, "Did you know the phrase "in the odor of sanctity" refers to an actual scent?"
"Saints are supposed to smell like violets, even after they die."
"'...of frustration'," Clark appended. He snuggled as tight as he could to Lex's body.
"So the chocolate taste --"
"Chocolate-flavored instant oatmeal."
There was a pause. "Oh."
"I'm not even Catholic, Lex."
"I didn't mean --"
"Could you do me a favor?"
"That too, but I was thinking more like could you suck my cock please now."
And Lex's mouth watered instantly at the thought of the tastes.