Title: REDgreen

Type: Slash, bromance, lost episode

Rating: NC-17

Fandom: Smallville

Pairing/s: Clark/Oliver, Collie

Episode Setting: Post-Toxic, Pre-Instinct

Word Count: 6751

Summary: After events unfold after their first real argument, following Oliver being poisoned, Clark begins to discover that there are more interesting elements of bromance to experience than he might have at first thought, under Oliver's keen metrosexual and socially unconventional wing. The two grow closer, as Ollie guides Clark in the art of not to living out his life constantly limiting himself, and being inhibited as a result. In exposing a recent spell of perversion elicited by Clark, Oliver reveals how there needn't be much guilt involved in pursuing a guilty pleasure. Their friendship becomes more established and evolved, and their platonic bromance progressively turns into something a lot more involved, complicated and enjoyable than expected, although in an organic if somewhat surreal way.

Warnings: Part one of a series I plan to complete which starts realistically tame and builds up in intensity when appropriate. It's my first return to slashfic after a very long time so I hope it suffices, and it's also my very first Smallville slashfic ever attempted. May be slightly spoilerish to those who have not seen the Season 8 episode "Toxic" or some other episodes aired prior to that, includes some sexual references and events of male nudity. Those looking for immediate excuses for spiteful smut may not have the patience needed to appreciate the series.

Disclaimer: Don't own Smallville or the characters, just like writing about it and them.

--

"Clark-", Oliver voiced, in observation of the Kryptonian's arrival in spite of the fact that his dark hazelnut eyes had yet to pay worthy witness to Clark's actual presence, the telltale incoming swoosh of Kent's supersped entrance serving as a just enough alert, "-guess you're not done insulting or mistrusting me for the night.". Although the golden haired archer kept his back pointedly turned to Clark, his spoken tone shed revelation towards the stern and rather angered expression that hung upon his typically handsome and solemn face, a tone quite similar to the one he had regrettably already taken within the last hour that had passed, and with the same colleague.

Oliver finally turned in his chair to face Clark, what remained of his current recreational poison, pooling colourfully around the ice cubes within the glass that casually chilled his firm palm, "Whatever it is Clark, you might want to spit it out…it's not getting any earlier and I do have some recovery to do, you know from that near death hallucinogenic toxin trip I was recently subjected to.".

Clark's brow arched upwardly, yet unevenly, a lovably pathetic look often displayed by the unrealised superman when he found himself to be the unintentional cause of hurt feelings, a look of self-disillusionment and simple despair, a look so adorably child like in fact that it seemed laughably unfitting upon the face of someone of Clark's towering proportions.

"Oliver…", Clark began softly, with bright eyes that beamed with an evident mixture of anxiety and hope, "…I didn't want to leave things the way that they were at the club-", his sincere facial expressions became progressively warmer and softer, pleading with their onlooker to forgive, forget and seemingly hug the owner of the face that they came from.

"-So you ran over here hoping I was still awake and in some sort of mood to reason with you, because our spat had you losing sleep?", Oliver asked, abruptly interrupting Clark, his steely gazes not yet retreating.

In an answer to his question, Kent simply formed a half hearted grin, lead mostly by his bottom lip and accompanied somewhat by an optimistic shrug. For such a strong and impressive looking man, Clark was sometimes akin to a child who knew he was cute, and how that could help him get away with things.

"You're lucky you can pull faces like that.", Queen stated with firm honesty, his behaviour towards Clark becoming immediately warmer. If not for Clark's troubled himbo grimaces denying it, Oliver would still be angry with him out of choice. "Guess we can add that to your growing list of superpowers.", he smirked lightly in a way that only Oliver could do without being offensive, shaking the ice that continued to melt a the bottom of his emptying glass.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry, I should have trusted you. I know better than to think you'd ever murder a man to settle a score, even if it was the man who killed your parents. You're better than that, and I shouldn't have doubted you."

It was odd and also refreshing that someone such as, Clark who for the most part respectfully seemed quite naïve to a globe trotting, high-rolling playboy such as Oliver, could so often surprise those not expecting him to with moments of endearing wisdom that were in no way contrived. Not one to shy away from his optimism towards Clark, Oliver flashed the Smallville native a short and approving smile, wondering how anyone could truly stay mad at Clark for long.

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence Clark…but maybe you were right to be cautious. We've all been to some pretty dark places before with the right amount of motivation…who knows what I would have done? You just thought it was best that I never have to find out, you had my best interests at heart…and I can see that now. You are a friend Clark…the sort friend who won't spare me for going off track…that's the sort of friend I could use."

Oliver's thankful reprieve forced Clark to grin wildly in an automatic response of impish glee, causing him to appear as though he had become somewhat demented with happiness, for a moment. Clark was after all, an unparalleled happiness junky and acquired massive positive reaction from even the slightest of niceties. His status as a worthy friend being audibly confirmed by Oliver's articulate and carefully worded voice was like virtual crack being injected directly into Clark's pleasure centres, if only for a number of seconds.

"So everything-"

"-Is fine Clark.", the blonde eagerly interrupted again with much zeal, "You didn't think I'd Lex out on you and turn our dispute into some long drawn out grudge did you?", Oliver paused for a moment, "Well to be fair, if you hadn't shown up, I was planning to stay mad at you for at least a day or two.", he laughed inaudibly, looking every bit the winner that Clark often saw him to be, the golden boy with all the right morals despite the wealth and lifestyle that would have corrupted others in the same circumstances.

Now that Kent had neared himself to Oliver, the blonde archer stood with intent to lead his penthouse guest to the more comfortable setting before the fireplace. After the two young men arrived, each lowering themselves down upon adjacent, luxuriously modernistic sofas, Oliver noticed questionable, somewhat uncomfortable glances being projected from Kent's usually untroubled eyes.

"Clark…is there something bothering you?", Oliver asked with a curious brow.

"No…it's just…I don't think I've ever visited you here without…seeing you shirtless."

It only took a slip of a moment, but when Oliver came to think about it Clark was right, Oliver spent less time fully clothed in his home, than he did otherwise. Clark's apparent discomfort with the partaking of his friend's partially bared form did slightly amuse Oliver, visibly so to a certain extent.

"My apologies for being hot blooded Clark…but then again it's not like your famous for knocking. I could go grab a shirt if you're that disturbed by the sight of my-"

"-No…", this time it was the farm boy's turn to interrupt, although in a much less forceful way than his confident ally, "…it's fine. I guess I just noticed that a large part of the time we spend together involves you being…less clothed than I'm used to.", Clark informed his wealthy friend that a life lived out on the Kent form was far from any socio-modern, marginally metrosexual setting, which allowed for mutual semi-nudity between males to be frequently demonstrated, however casual. Having Lois catch him in anything less than a t-shirt was embarrassing enough for Clark to avoid such an event as much as humanly, or rather Kryptonianly possible.

"I keep forgetting, you were raised a little better than most of us…but surely it's not like the great Clark Kent has anything to be ashamed of?", Oliver had seen Clark unclothed enough to know that he shouldn't have any body issues, especially if the subject of Clark's comparison was him. Maybe Clark was simply shy and not used to witnessing such casual states of undress being shared amongst men.

"It's not that…I mean, I was on the football team…", and Clark didn't have to explain his implications, Oliver was aware that his larger friend was referring to the need for comfort with male nudity if one was to be a contributing member of a sports team, which was just as well because the farm boy was far too coy to ever go into further detail or explanation, "…you just…you're much more confident about that stuff than I am…I won't even leave my shirt off in my own room, well, not since Lois lived with us."

"I don't know about that Clark, it's not what I'd call confidence. I'm in my own home talking to a friend and the air is cooling my skin…there's nothing about that I should be uncomfortable with is there? It's not like I'm putting myself on display, or being judged for the way I look…is it?"

"No, you're right.", Clark surrendered with a feigned, unsteady smile, "I shouldn't be so uptight, but then…a lot's happened to make me that way."

"Lana?"

"Not just Lana…everyone I get close to…they all seem to get hurt or end up leaving in one way or another."

"Sounds like a good way to keep you in your shell."

"And maybe I started believing it might be better for things to stay that way. I've seen what I'm capable of when I lose my inhibitions, I've seen what can happen-"

"-Hold on, you mean to tell me there have been times when you've had no inhibitions?", Oliver asked in disbelief of the concept.

"Red Kryptonite."

"Right, so it's not something you achieved by yourself.", Oliver taunted playfully which in return elicited a mildly punishing and disheartened look from Clark.

"Depends how you look at it. Red Kryptonite doesn't make me a different person…it's still me, it's just that when I'm Kal I do all of the things I usually stop myself from doing."

"Is that such a bad thing? I mean in moderation…maybe that's what you've been getting wrong…thinking too much about everyone else, and too little about yourself."

"Well, you've never met Kal."

"True but I've heard the stories, and while I draw the line at being involved in organized crime and getting hitched to your meteor infected stalker in Vegas, would the odd romp really be such a bad thing?"

"Oliver!", Clark almost gasped in shock, wholesome and innocent though he was and taken completely off guard by his older friend's somewhat invasive suggestion. Open sexual discussion was not something the mild mannered powerhouse was accustomed to, but he sheepishly resided on the fact that he was becoming a man now, and Oliver was confiding in that fact as an older man himself. Clark had to remind himself that while such discussion was not comfortable for him to endure, it was perfectly healthy for two young men who trust each other to share their sexual views, and that actually such evolved social interaction has been a long time coming.

"Oh come on Clark, it'd take a mental patient to think you anything short of honourable, but you're a hero, not a saint…isn't it about time that you stopped pressuring yourself to pursue the unrealistic? You're a man in your prime, and love is a rare thing to come by, especially in the world we live in.", Clark's friend spoke calmly and with such maturity and wisdom, but the notion of casual sex still seemed so incriminating and alien to the respectful Kryptonian.

"It's not that simple, Oliver…you can take off your green costume any time you like and lead a double life, but I'm always going to be from another planet. I have to consider how that effects the people I get involved with. My secret is something I have to protect, but at the same time I don't want to hide who I am just for the sake of…"

"-Don't worry Clark, you don't have to say it.", Queen rescued his friend from saying words that he found too sordid to utter. "Look, I know that you're the strongest man on the planet, but that doesn't mean you have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. We all have secrets, I know I had my fair share even before I took up life behind the mask, and granted yours is unique to say the least but you give it too much meaning. Every day you continue to prove just how human you are, more human than the best of us at times…no matter who you became involved with or for how long, you'd be the one of the most human people they had ever known.", with a touched and endlessly appreciative smile, Clark looked to Oliver fascinated that someone so accomplished and successful had so many rewarding things to say about him. The only other person who warmed Clark's heart in this way was Chloe, but there was always bias there, after all they had grown up together and been friends since before Lana even became a romantic option, let alone interest. This coming from Ollie meant a lot, as not only was everything he said to be respected for his sense of nobility, intelligence and character, but also he was a man, and Clark had not had much luck when it came to his friendships with men, he'd certainly never had another male believe in him so boldly, so selflessly and so soon, "You might be able to burn through metal with your eyes or send a car toppling over with a stray sneeze, but in the all the ways that really matter…you're just one of us. You need to start seeing that yourself."

"Thanks, Ollie.", a beaming Clark said, almost completely lost for words. How could he compete with gifted sentiments like that, for no matter how he'd like to respond, nor the many positive things he had to say about his blonde friend, he lacked the mastery to articulate quite like Oliver did, as well as the charisma so effortlessly demonstrated by him when doing so, "To be honest, I didn't know you cared so much.", he admitted, nervously rummaging through his coarse main of dark brown hair, not knowing how to appropriately respond to the words Ollie had just parted with.

"Of course I do Clark, we're friends you and I…and I won't let you talk yourself out of letting me play my part in that just because you were carried here by a meteor shower rather than a stork."

And then Clark smiled again, playfully this time, as he realized that Oliver didn't expect Clark to compete with him, he found Clark to be person enough just as he was, however simple and inferior Kent often found himself to be in contrast.

"You know, maybe you're right…maybe I should allow myself to be a little more impulsive…start enjoying life a little more. Just…promise you won't lead me too far astray.", for once the Smallville native exuded a slight charge of mischief, which quite visibly pleased his friend who just wanted him to stop burdening himself with impossible ideals.

"I think it's safe to say that I'll remain the topic of the trashy magazine headlines for the rest of our lives to come. That being said…can I grab you a beer?", a slight pause aired, "Don't run out of steam now Clark, after making so much progress.", he pleaded, half seriously.

"Sure, I'll take a beer.", the powerful alien accepted after some ponderings of reluctance, now finding himself not only happy to have such a good friend in Ollie, but also slightly excited by the newly adopted prospect of living life with a little less limitation than before. Clark began to wonder what sort of influence Oliver could have on the rest of his life, if he can make him feel so accepted and happy to be alive just from a few thoughtful comments in one night.

When Oliver returned, he handed Clark an opened bottle of finely frosted beer before taking to his respective seat once more, fighting back the giggle that threatened to be heard, inspired by the lovable ridiculousness of Clark's obvious mixture of apprehension and excitement towards kicking back like the rest of the world for once, and going all out crazy by having a few beers with a friend.

"You know Clark, I've been meaning to tell you…now that you're working with Lois at the Daily Planet, superspeed aside Smallville is hardly the close neighbour of Metropolis. I have a spare room with your name on it, if you ever need a place to crash…I'm hardly here at all except when I'm sleeping…figured I might as well put the place to good use. Plus, it might be a bit more convenient for you when we're working together on certain extra curricular projects…or on nights like these."

"Ollie, are you sure? I mean I appreciate the offer but do you really think I wouldn't get in your way?"

"Clark I make decisions every day that could cost Queen Industries millions of dollars, of course I'm sure. And what is it exactly that you think you'll be getting in the way of? I'm not half as bad as those tabloids you might read make out."

"I didn't mean-", Clark stopped himself, distracted by a thought. Initially he had only been concerned that accepting Oliver's offer might be too imposing of him in general, while goodly intended, but now Oliver sparked thought in Clark's mind. The secret vigilante was in fact a reported playboy with occasional controversy surrounding him, which only set Clark's mind into a fever of wonder which he usually managed to prevent. What exactly was it that Oliver got up to behind closed doors, not involving of course a green costume. "-wait…Ollie, what would I be getting in the way of, here?"

"Relax Clark, I don't operate a secret sex dungeon or orchestrate mixed sex orgies…well not any more at least, on the latter. Do I bring back girls sometimes? Sure, but I'm not the indulgent young miscreant I once was, I barely have the time to be these days. You can rest assured that there's nothing you'd see going on here that would give you nightmares."

"You don't do orgies…any more!?"

"Clark, I was young, rich and thinking far too often with the other head. It's allowed."

Clark just looked to Oliver in shock and awe, finding it difficult to make any sort of eye contact.

"What?"

"It's nothing, I guess I just never thought about you like that. I mean I've read things, heard things, but it always seemed to be the life of someone else. And now I'm here with you and you're telling me that these things really happened…and some of them probably happened here!"

"Everyone has their vices Clark, the only difference between me and most other people is that mine have sometimes been intruded upon, recorded and published. I'm not ashamed of myself, and I don't regret anything I might have done…it made me who I am today and I think we can both agree that I'm pretty awesome, no?"

"Not everyone has organized orgies, Oliver!", Kent snapped in a somewhat judgemental tone of disapproval.

"Don't judge me Clark, not when I'm sure you've got a few skeletons in the closet yourself."

"Oh really, you honestly think that I've ever done anything to compare to you hosting your own orgies?", Clark became slightly irritated, showing clear disbelief towards Oliver honestly thinking such things of him. With beer bottle in hand, Clark made mental note not to squeeze the bottle too hard out of anger, in avoidance of sending glass shrapnel flying across the room.

"You say that like it's a bad thing…and no Clark I don't think you've ever done anything sexually deviant in your life…I know you have."

If looks could kill, Oliver would have just died.

"Oh come on Clark, you mean to tell me that you've never used your x-ray vision for cheap thrills…or maybe even to check out the competition?", Ollie deductively asked with playful mischief beaming from his face like a golden aura.

"But what you said…before…"

"What I said before was that you're more human than the best of us…and all I'm doing now is accusing you of some simple aspects of human nature. We're allowed to be sexually deviant every now and then Clark, so long as it's not hurting anybody who doesn't want to be hurt. And by the way, I never had an orgy without completely willing and thoroughly satisfied participants…which is more than I can sa-well, never mind.", Oliver caught himself before plummeting completely down a pit of admission he would rather be kept not trodden upon.

"What?!", Clark barked within an instant, angry and anxious as to what it might have been that Oliver almost said, and what it might have implied if he had not brought his Freudian slip to a sudden and successful halt, "What were you about to say Oliver!?", Clark demanded an answer, seemingly offended by what he could make of Queen's unfinished implications.

"Oh I'll tell you Clark, there's no need to get excited, but are you really ready to admit to yourself that you're a hypocrite?"

"What are you talking about?", Clark seemed to genuinely have no idea, and seemed concerned with the unusual and unsettling direction in which his friend seemed to be going.

"You know what I'm talking about, Clark. When I was poisoned, I was in and out of consciousness…and granted, I was mostly out. Imagine my surprise when, on one of the odd occasions that I did come around from my feverishly lucid state, I open my eyes to find Smallville's most wholesome golden boy deviously prying down my waistband to have a long hard look at the Queen jewels…which by the way I don't understand, I mean…you have x-ray vision, why didn't you just use that…far less condemning that way, I'd imagine?"

Although Oliver seemed to be at peace and ease with the claims he evidently believed true, Clark looked as though he had seen a ghost, and found it impossible to form words or make any sort of sound at all. Interesting, Oliver thought, that shame could so immobilize a man with the ability to withstand bullet fire, or even cross states within mere moments if ever he found himself in a situation he'd rather not suffer.

"Well Clark, you demanded an answer and you got it."

"I just…I didn't mean to-", Clark struggled to mouth the words he thought would help explain his actions.

"-Yes you did mean to do it Clark…but at least you're not denying it."

"How can you…I mean, you've been so nice to me, how can you even look at me after knowing I did that? It's…it was wrong…I don't know why I-"

"-I'm sure you do know why you did it, Clark…but don't get yourself started on a guilt trip. Sure, the fact that you sneaked a peak while I was hallucinating myself to death is…well, slightly morbid…but luckily for you I didn't die and I don't have many sexual inhibitions…least of all any that involve you spying at my junk.", although it wasn't perhaps opportune, being that Clark was now a shame-fuelled nervous wreck on the verge of combustion, Oliver couldn't help but chuckle slightly, and a dirty sly chuckle it was, although remaining just on the right side of warmth so to not seem purposefully menacing.

"No, what I did was wrong…maybe Lex and Veritas were right about me, maybe I do have to be stopped before I start taking advantage of people by using my powers, if this is the sort of thing I do without using them."

"Oh can it Clark, would you!? Veritas and Lex were mere mortals, and they murdered people in pursuit of personal gain and selfish beliefs. That hardly compares to what you did. Curiosity got the better of you and you did something a little untoward…nobody was hurt in the process, in fact I don't even mind…if anything it's amusing to me, I mean Clark Kent unleashing his inner perv…and on me! It's sort of an honour!", Oliver smiled and although Clark couldn't make sense of it, he still continued to look like Oliver and not some twisted rich boy with a sick sense of casual perversity that he liked to impose upon others in manipulative ways. Maybe it was because Oliver simply was all that he claimed to be, and there were no hidden agendas or complexities.

"That's not fair Oliver, don't joke about this when it's clear that I'm embarrassed."

"My apologies, but you can't blame me…there is no human or Kryptonian way in which none of this on paper or otherwise is amusing.", while Clark would have found it more rational to have discovered otherwise, it was clear that Queen meant not to ridicule or humiliate the lost prince of Krypton, which could be deduced by witnessing his warm, golden glances which were casually offered out, as usual.

"Look if it makes you feel any better you weren't the only one…in fact, what you did was tame in comparison."

Thinking almost as fast as he was capable of moving, Clark immediately investigated who else might have tampered with his athletic colleague's poisoned and helpless body as it descended to a miserable, hallucinogenic death. He knew it couldn't have been Chloe, and it didn't seem likely that Jimmy or that Doctor friend of Chloe's would take it upon themselves to molest Oliver as he slowly became a corpse, although given that insufferably camp dickie bow that Olsen so proudly sported on occasion, Clark did have some suspicions with regards to how many way the young upstart photographer swung. Overall, most choices of suspect seemed unlikely, and more to the point wouldn't have had the opportunity since by the time they became involved in Oliver's critical situation, there was almost always more than one person tending to him.

"Lois!"

"Bingo, Clark."

"What did she do?!", the naïve, and still shaken farmboy bleated, so confused and driven on nervous adrenalin that his control over the high pitch of his voice was just as bad as decisiveness as to whether he wanted to know the answer to his question at all.

"Let's just say that in my moment of need, she saw fit to give me a hand.", a wink fronted Oliver's naughtily projected answer.

"She didn't!"

"Oh but she did Clark, saw it with my own glazed over eyes and even if I hadn't, I'd recognize that touch anywhere.", Clark jolted a little in forced realization that Lois and Ollie were already intimately familiar, which while he'd already sort of assumed, he didn't know how to feel about now given his current situation, as well as recent sordid revelations, "Maybe it was some sort of final goodbye, or who knows…maybe it was an attempt to give me a few more vital moments of consciousness. Either way, Lois isn't to be underestimated Clark…and I wouldn't exactly have refused her if I were awake and well anyway."

"But you would have refused what I did...it's not the same thing at all!"

"I wouldn't say that…if I'd been awake and well, all you would have had to do was ask…an unusual request, sure, but again I don't have many inhibitions least of all with my body, as you aptly pointed out earlier. Besides, my general scruples are not often celebrated as cagey…and I trust you. However strange the request, I'd always trust that you had your reasons."

"It's not like this was pre-meditated Oliver, I never wanted to…do that before, it just happened when it did.", Clark insisted, his claims seeming to be typically authentic.

"Well there must have been some reason for it, especially if you had no previous impulses towards me?"

"It was just something I heard that-", and now Clark was preventing the completion of a Freudian slip.

"That what Clark?", the distinctly handsome, dark-eyed Oliver Queen asked, having made a quick journey to the drinks refrigerator to fetch and open two fresh bottles of the alcohol amber nectar that both boys had been enjoying, Clark quite gluttonously due to provoked unease, "We're friends aren't we? And do you really think all things considered, that whatever it is you have left to say to me would honestly bother me?"

"I see your point-", Clark reluctantly agreed, "-well it's just that I overheard Chloe and Lois talking about you once…and Lois said…"

"Lois said what, Clark?", asked Oliver, pointedly, his general demeanour seeming somewhat richer in sophistication and more daring now, eyes charismatically anchoring at Clark's better judgement in all the wrong ways.

"She just said…Lois mentioned to Chloe that you were, you know-"

"-No I don't…elaborate for me.", uttered the devilish smile of an energized Oliver Queen, who seemed to ooze a glow amidst the lowly lit room, his silky voice tormenting an already befuddled and bemused Clark.

"Generously…proportioned.", Kent finally managed to force out of his mouth like filth that didn't belong there, much to the obvious delight of Oliver.

"And was she right?", he curiously asked, smirking pleasantly in Clark's direction.

"Oliver!"

"You've said my name as a standalone sentence so many times tonight Clark, I almost feel like I'm at the musical. Just answer the question."

"You're not serious."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" And he really didn't.

After rolling his eyes and willing the ground beneath him to swallow him whole, to no avail, Clark finally caved beneath Oliver's sensationally protrusive gazes which he felt mocking the general surface area of his body in random patterns of bombardment.

"Fine Oliver, you win.", Kent conceded, his fresh beer already half-empty, "Compared to what I've seen, I suppose Lois was right.", Queen smirked victoriously.

"How do I measure up to a Kryptonian? If you and your cousin are anything to go by, Kryptonians seem to be a race of people that have the supermodel gene inborn. I mean, look at the size of your hands, they're like baseball mitts!"

"Oliver, I am not talking to you about my…junk.", Clark hilariously said, much to Ollie's clearly evident amusement.

"Why not? I thought you said you had nothing to be ashamed of.", Oliver reminded Clark's of an earlier comment he'd made, while Clark found himself wondering whether he'd just witnessed Oliver pulling tongues at him.

"Nice try Ollie, but that's not exactly what I said, and you know it.", Clark deflected, only to be met by the fair haired playboy's lips forming a bow that seemed perhaps as punishing as the one he carried with him as the Green Arrow, or even more so.

"Actually Clark, recent circumstances aside, I know that you're a fair guy, one of the fairest guys I've ever met. I think you'd agree that it'd only be fair to even the scores…"

"Meaning what exactly?"

"Well, although I had no say in the matter...I've shown you mine...", the uncanny archer launched a roguish assault of words, as though they were arrows. Cleverly, his said sentence required Clark to finish the thought Oliver had instigated, and it was an inarguably easy segue to correctly complete with just the imagination at hand, "And by the way, I like that you're calling me Ollie again."

At this point, Clark had come down from too high a rush of unexpected worry and adrenalin to be coy any more, perhaps the residual adrenalin that remained within the colossal fortress of muscle and flesh that was his body, accompanied by the irregular alcohol intake he had so quickly ingested, was doing well to modify his confidence and audacity.

"So much for promising to not leading me astray, one minute you're grooming me with beer, the next you want to see my junk!"

The young man who wasn't speaking almost choked on the still cold beer he had just sipped at, laughter causing part of it to travel down the wrong way, froth and golden fluid spilling partially forth from Oliver's mouth. "I'm sorry Clark but if the word junk comes out of your mouth again, you'll be responsible for me drowning on a mouthful of beer."

"Don't do me any favours.", Smallville attempted an outburst of playful cockiness, in a vote to compete with his bowman friend in the attitude stakes, and while not convincing, at least seeing Clark behaving in such a way seemed to suit him somehow.

"Oh you want my helpless, unsupervised body at your mercy again do you Clark?"

"That was below the belt.", Clark insisted, somewhat firmly.

"Literally.", Oliver's devious eyes punished his stronger friend much more than the delivery of that sarcastically clever comeback ever could have, "Well Clark, I'm waiting.", the elder male hungrily reminded Clark that he had business still outstanding to attend to.

"I am not dropping trou for you Oliver.", the only active resident at Kent farm firmly informed his colleague.

"Why? What's so special about the Lanastick that you can't take it out for a friendly bit of show and tell? Especially when you're obliged to, if of course you truly are the fair and noble Clark Kent others believe you to be…I'd hate to think what Chloe would say if she found out what you-"

"-You wouldn't!", Clark interrupted, desperately, having to now ignore his first inclination to reprimand his provocative friend for the absurdly chosen moniker he had chosen for the appendage of Clark's that had recently come under scrutiny and artfully playful pursuit.

"Of course I wouldn't, I'm just making a point…and achieving your full attention apparently.", Clark almost hated that Oliver was always right, but didn't, because when Ollie was smug it didn't seem obnoxious or even proportionately irritating, it seemed like everything was as it was meant to be, and if anything else, motivating.

"You know what, if it's going to shut you up then fine.", Clark suddenly shot, beginning to take to his feet.

"You serious?"

"Don't be so taken by surprise, like you said, we're friends and we trust each other. It's not like I'm putting myself on display to be judged…", Clark realized that his last sentence might not have been entirely true, or that perhaps if it was it would only be based on a certain line of technicality, "…look, you said I should be more impulsive and stop caring so much about being this ideal version of myself, and you were right. It's just a part of my body, and if it settles a score between us then it's hardly worth worrying about."

"Say it Clark."

"What?"

"Cock. Say it.", Oliver requested, noticing how well and how effortlessly Clark had manoeuvred around saying the word at all thus far.

Upon Ollie's request, Clark became slightly shamefaced, and it looked like he was finally going to accept defeat after all, but then after a few silent moments, he raised his head from where it had just hung, taking to the challenge aptly.

"My cock, Oliver…I'm going to show you my cock, and then I don't want to hear another word about what I did to you, deal?"

"So that's how it sounds when you say it.", Oliver quipped, liking how the dirty word rolled off the stocky Kent boy's tongue in an unfitting manner, sin pushed out of something innocent.

"Very funny, now do we have a deal or not?", the Kryptonian ran low on patience.

"Deal.", replied Queen, who looked on in disbelief, yet hopeful that Clark would continue to surprise him with uncharacteristic behaviour, as he had seemed to be doing lately, especially when he thought nobody would ever know.

"Right, well…here goes…", Clark grabbed at his already unfastened belt with both gigantic hands and unravelled it in one bold and tentatively executed yank from the hoops of his roughly worn jeans, that he'd quickly donned before running over to Oliver's penthouse apartment at superspeed, unable to sleep after their first real spat. Then unloosened became the button at the top of his jeans, and Oliver could see the brilliant white fabric of Clark's tight fitting boxers peering out to him from behind a zipped prison of denim. The sound of Clark's belt buckle dryly scratching against Oliver's solid marble floor served as a titillating backdrop of sound, to the main event of Clark's zip being unsophisticatedly tugged downwards, a number of times too before it went all the way down with complete succession. Oliver paid close attention to Clark's body language through pools of glimmering chocolate filled with thirst, which seemed surprisingly refined as well as calmly composed, yet while even the expression upon Clark's face did not seem to be panicked, his own eyes were wide open as though in awe of what they themselves oversaw their owner going through with. The usually coy Clark wasn't quite so self moderated and modest when he engaged in any sexual activity, as could be swiftly corroborated by how he chose not to waste time when it came to the main event, hooking two large thumbs beneath the waistband of his lightly coloured underwear, forcefully using this leverage to yank down both his boxers and jeans at the same exact time.

Almost as though Clark had been freed from the captivity of a spell he had just cast upon his own person, he started to look more like himself again, more aware of and sensitive to the world around him than when he underwent the reasonably taboo act of undressing to expose himself to his friend. Standing with humble guile and no particular sense of posture, Clark looked down once at that which he had revealed in full flesh to Oliver in order to finally remedy a hankering of guilt, and then fixated his unpresumptuous line of sight strictly to Queen, whose eyes were atypically widened.

"Well?"

"Well what Clark?"

"Are we done with this now?"

"Even if we're not, I think it's best you put that away before you abruptly turn and knock a hole through one of my walls.", Oliver winked, confidently impressed by the thing that so heavily hung from between the darker haired boys thickly muscular legs.

"Yeah right Ollie, it's hardly that much of an eyesore.", Clark said, yanking up his jeans and boxers before sitting back down again, although leaving his belt snaked across the floor where he'd swung and thrown it.

"I don't really think it's anyone's eyes that your dick would make sore, Clark. Just do me a favour, if you ever sleep with someone I'm interested in before I do, just let me know so I can avoid throwing my hotdog down the hallway you've installed.", the costume wearing outlaw shone with an outward look of unconventional approval in the path of where Clark stood, and while he was no longer winking his eyes seemed to be continuously ebbing with that very same sentiment. And for once, unlike the usual indifference that Clark warded off Ollie's projections with, Clark was instead sporting the largest and most childishly relentless grin he ever had, in conjunction with his friend's daring sentiments shared.

"Well from what I recall, there's not much difference-"

"-No Clarke…I have an unfeasibly large penis, you have a fifth limb, there is a slight but distinct difference. Now I'm starting to rethink my theory as to why Lana did a vanishing act."

"Stop it.", Clarke said, smiling dementedly, and fighting back a well of laughter. Oliver certainly had a way with words, and he knew how to get reactions out of his younger friend that he would never expect himself able to enjoy, before tonight. Maybe Oliver was exactly the sort of friend Clark needed, a smart, unusual, unpredictable and charismatic friend who was not uneasy on the eye either, which came with it's own list of benefits.

"So, had a good night?"

"You know, as unusual as it's been, I think I have."

"You should piss me off more often.", the wealthy metrosexual joked, reminding Clark of how this entire night developed from a point at which both men were talking heatedly with one another in a nightclub.

"Maybe I should."

"It's late Clark, as fast as you could run home you must be tired. I have a change of clothes and a spare bed if you'd rather just crash here for the night.", the suave millionaire politely offered.

"I think I'm going to take you up on that, so long as you're sure you don't mind."

"A number of hours ago you saved my life. Ask me again why you're always welcome here."

"Thanks.", the two men offered each other pleased expressions, Oliver liked seeing Clark in that light, Clark liked that Oliver could put him in it.

"Think nothing of it. I don't know about you but personally, I'm wiped…can I show you to your room before I hit the hay?"

"Sure Ollie, that'd be great.", and with that the two got up from their seats on the expensive sofas they had been keeping warm, and Clark followed Oliver to the offered bedroom, lights being switched on along the hallway as needed.

"So Kryptonians really are an epically proportioned race then I take it?"

"Shut up Oliver."

--

END