Title: Natural Disasters
Authors: Kat Reitz & tzigane
Rating: NC-17
Email: kreitz@cox.net  and tzigane@eroica.nu 
Challenge: Natural Disasters
Summary: It all just keeps going WRONG somehow.

It had been a hell of a day. 

First, there had been a mudslide in Bangladesh. 

Then, there had been an earthquake in Japan. 

And now... 

Now, there was this. 

Clark Kent seriously contemplated sitting down on the floor by the toilet to cry. It seemed like a pretty good idea, just then. Maybe it was even the best idea he'd gotten all day, considering the results of that ‘scoop made out of a metal sheet’ thing he'd tried during the mudslide. 

He hadn't expected it to overflow that fast. Rather like the toilet. 

Faintly, Clark could hear the door slamming closed. "Clark?! Clark, are you home? Jesus, what smells like shit...?" 

Okay. Now was obviously the time to cry. Clark wasn't sure *what* the problem was with the plumbing. He'd come in to the house, gone to pee before he took a shower, and then there had just been water and STUFF all over the floor, and he still smelled bad enough that he probably rivaled the backed up sewage. 

And now Lex was in the open doorway, a hand over his mouth and noise. "God..." He swatted at the wall switch to turn on the vent, and then Clark heard Lex's muffled words, "Clark, what happened?" 

Clark was feeling pretty lucky to burble out an answer. "Mudslide..." He managed a few other words in there. "...overflowing people scoop..." That sounded *way* too muck like poop scoop, didn't it? "...earthquake..." And now.... "THE TOILET OVERFLOWED!" he finally wailed, wringing his cape in his hands. 

Lex only stood there for a moment before he stepped into the room, damning his hand-crafted italian loafers to certain doom. "Okay, okay -- c'mon, there are other bathrooms -- I'll call a plumber." 

"I can fix it," Clark snuffled, rubbing an eye with the back of his hand like a kid. "I *can*." Except for the part where he was just so tired and dirty and he smelled bad. 

"I know you can, but..." Lex hesitated in reaching a hand out to grab Clark's arm, then did it anyway. "I watched the news. You need a rest." 

"I need a bath," Clark sniffed. "I stink. And a six year old puked on me in Tokyo." 

"We'll use the other bathroom," Lex promised while he pulled Clark out of the bathroom. "Bad day, it happens to everyone. Even Superman." 

"Superman isn't supposed to have bad days," Clark denied, even though it was patently untrue. "Hey, Lex?" 

"Yes?" If he didn't know better, Clark would've thought Lex was trying not to laugh as he escorted Clark out of the bathroom. 

"When you're president?" Clark said, tilting his head slightly so that it touched Lex's. It was love when Lex let a guy smear mud and blood and vomit on his Armani. "Can we declare today a natural disaster free day?" 

"I'd promise to, but nature tends to be spiteful towards orders given to it. Natural Disaster Free Day would end up being 'The Day The Earth's Crust Cracked Open'. That's just how things work." 

Clark pouted as Lex gently pushed him into the clean bathroom. "You're supposed to tell me yes, Lex. And then wash my back." 

"I *will* wash your back," Lex murmured as he unfastened the flourish of cape from Clark's shoulders. "And run all of this through the wash." 

"And at least think about Natural Disaster Free Day?" 

"Sure, Clark," Lex promised, and started to run the bath. 

"I'm not gonna use heat vision on a $40,000 car, Lex," Clark asserted sternly. "I'll go get some de-ice or something. It won't take long." 

"But none of the damned doors will stay *closed*," Lex growled. A growling Lex wasn't ever a good thing, particularly when he slammed the driver's side door for good measure to demonstrate that they wouldn't stay closed. 

"That's because you didn't do it like I told you. You've screwed up the mechanism." The explanation was incredibly patient. "I mean, it's not like they didn't warn us it was the blizzard of the century." 

"But doors aren't supposed to be locked and closed all night and then just *not close* the next day, dammit!" Lex slammed the door again, with the sort of force that would've left a dent if he was Superman. And shattered the glass. 

Clark heaved a deep sigh. "Look. I know your garage is heated, but *you* were the one craving cheese blintz in the middle of a snowstorm, Lex. So. Here we are. In front of IHOP. In the cold, and the snow. And you got the door open, sure, but it's so cold that they've just frozen shut again. I don't know why you wouldn't just let me get us home the 'other way'." 

Lex dug the toe of one boot into the freshly forming snowy ice, and heaved a great sigh. It was the sort of sigh that he sighed when the IRS had audited him back in May. "Because. Do you have any string on you?" 

Green eyes rolled. "I'm not carrying any in my pocket, but I can go back in the restaurant and see what they've got." There was bound to be *something* they could use in there. "Hey. Come here." 

"No. I need to guard the car. I at *least* need to keep the snow out." Lex was staring intently at his car, probably wondering how he got the key in and got it unlocked if it was just going to do *that* on him. 

"Come *here*," Clark said, and reached for him, tugging Lex back against his front. He nuzzled for a moment at the bottom of the knit hat he'd forced Lex to wear to protect his head and his ears. "You can protect the car. I promise. And hey... we'll declare today Catastrophe Free Car day when you're president." 

Lex gave a dark snort, but relaxed back a little, still staring at that open car door. "Just for that, you're going to hold the string to keep the doors closed on the way back." 

"Okay," Clark promised. 

And he did, the whole drive back. 

There was a smell in the kitchen. 

There had *been* a smell in the kitchen, but Lex kept throwing the stopper over the garbage disposal whenever he passed it. And that made the smell go away, which told Clark that a) it was coming from the garbage disposal and B) Lex knew what was wrong and just didn't want to deal with it. He had a hostile takeover to give his attention to. 

That meant it was now officially Clark's job to take care of the matter. 

He should have called a plumber. Secretly, deep in his soul, he knew that he should have. But... he had *x-ray* *vision*, for God's sake! He could see the problem, and he'd almost been there, and then... 

He'd heard that very distinct roar, like a coal-fed train blowing wildly downhill. 

Dammit. 

Sure it had been a crappy day outside, but honestly. He *hated* those damn things, the way they dropped in out of almost nowhere on a faintly stormy day and just sliced through things. A tornado hadn't hit Metropolis in seven years, but Clark guessed that just meant they were overdue. 

Of course, once he'd managed to steer it *away* from the city, that left him with another disaster on the kitchen floor. 

He couldn't remember anything stinking so bad since that day he'd made such a mess of the mudslide in Bangladesh and the overflowing toilet. Maybe he just didn't need to attempt home repairs on days there might be natural disasters. 

Not that tornadoes were *predictable* or anything, but... But. It was a hell of a coincidence, wasn't it? Maybe Lex was right about tempting fate. Maybe he should just call a repair guy to deal with what looked like old rotten potato skins and God knew what. A peach pit? 

Clark sighed and reached down to dig a finger into whatever that was, and that was when he heard it. 

Lois. 

"Smallville... what the hell are you digging in down there?" 

"Uh, I..." 

"Your arm isn't stuck, is it? I hope to God that you've got that disconnected.” No, she wasn't supposed to *catch* him! His and Lex's life was supposed to be perfect, flaw free. 

There was *not* supposed to be a backed up disposal in the kitchen sink. They didn't have overflowing toilets. They certainly had plumbers who came in and fixed that kind of thing even if they did. 

Oh, hell. 

"No, I mean, it's not stuck, yeah, I disconnected it, uh, Lois? What are you doing here?" 

"Lex buzzed me in. We were supposed to meet? Remember?" 

Oh. Yeah. The Romanov brunch. 

...shit. 

"I think you're gonna have to go without me," Clark sighed. He'd rather face a tornado than face telling Lois that, but it wasn't like he had a whole lot of choice. He was dirty from stopping that wind funnel, and he was pretty sure he had a piece of rotten potato peel in his hair. 

"Obviously." She tapped the toe of her shoe on the floor. "You're nowhere near properly dressed. So. Has Luthor gone cheapskate on you?" 

"Sometimes, I like to fix things myself. Okay?" 

"Just for kicks, huh? Are you *sure* that you're not stuck? Or, does, you know, your resident megalomaniac like the idea of a Man About the House?" Lois wasn't ever going to let it go. Ever. 

Argh. He had to wonder if this counted as complete disaster number three for the day. Maybe now that Lex was seriously going to think about running for senator, he could push up his agenda for pleading amnesty to calamities like today? There could be a special bill and everything, just for resident Aliens. Kryptonians. Whatever. 

"Yeah, well. Believe it or not, I know a little bit about plumbing." 

Damn that pipe for bursting just then. 

"Shit, turn off the water!" Lois jolted backwards, more out of protecting her clothing than actual startlement. 

"Why's someone screaming about turning off the water?" 

This day just couldn't get much worse. With a sigh, Clark reached back and squeezed the pipe with his hand. He was going to have to turn off the water, get a replacement pipe, and *then* call a plumber. What next? Lex's dad? 

"Lex..." 

"Jesus, Smallville. Now *I'm* going to have trouble making the Romanov interview!" 

"Then why're you loitering in the kitchen?" Lex stepped towards Lois. "Go on, get going. We've got a problem on our hands already. Have fun, chew Clark out later." Lex was already eyeing Clark's dirty self, the water that was soaking the towels that hung inside the cupboard door and the cleaning products that were beneath the disposal. 

"So," Clark sighed. "Are you gonna call Five Star Plumbing or should I?" 

"You're paying for the shoes, Smallville," Lois grumbled, but the smell was driving her out of the kitchen, so it would be okay. 

Maybe. 

"I'll call." Lex sighed, already flipping his cell phone out of his pocket. "You should hit the bathroom -- unless you want the plumbers to have a laugh, too." 

"Yeah," Clark sighed, and reached to turn the water off at the cutoff line. Why hadn't he thought of that *before* squashing the pipe? "Tell them we'll need a new U bend." 

"Mmmhm. I think they know us well enough by now to bring half a hardware store." Lex almost said something more, but he stopped while he gave the address and apartment level to the man on the other end of the line. 

Maybe, Clark thought, he ought to go and take a bath. 

Maybe he could get Lex to wash his back. 

It was just the kind of luck that they had. Not even in the White House a year, Clark incredibly pleased to be the First Husband despite querulous arguments that no gay man would ever be elected president, and now… 

This. 

He heaved a heavy sigh and looked out the window, scowling. 

The sky was a dull, seeping gray, the wind outside was howling, and it was *only* a prelude. Soon the rain would roll in, then the rain that blew sideways, winds that would probably seem to warp the building, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do. 

Lex had already publicly cracked a bad joke about putting plywood on the White House windows just like normal people should be out doing. 

Clark hadn't thought that was very funny. 

“Glaring at it, Clark? Not going to help it." 

"It makes me feel better," Clark disagreed, reaching up to trace invisible lines on the window. "I can't believe we're stuck here. In a *hurricane*. In your first year in office. I'm starting to think this kind of thing just follows us around." 

"It's just chance, Clark." A branch blew idly past the window, while Lex plastered himself to Clark's back. "The usual lobbyists are staying at home today. We have no guests to entertain. Which means... we can do a little blowing of our own." 

Unless something weird happened, like the roof falling on their heads. 

Maybe oral sex *would* make him less cranky. Or maybe there would be a sudden call on the stupid red disaster phone in their bedroom that sat there and waited like some kind of ominous little ogre. Ergh. It was worse for him than most first-spouses. Usually it brought on worry and that intangible need to do something when you couldn't, Clark guessed. But *he* was Superman. He had to act, and he was morally upheld to make Lex act, too. 

Which left Lex muttering about being Woodrow Wilson. A *lot*. 

"Please, Clark. Leave the window alone, or get married to it." 

"I'm already married to you," Clark pointed out, reaching up to close the curtains. The Secret Service really hated him for sitting in open range like that, but Clark didn't care. 

Much. 

As long as no one took a potshot at him, he didn't care. Even if they did, it would just... ruin Lex's political career, being married to an alien and all. 

"Thank you." Lex nudged the collar of Clark's shirt down with his chin, and kissed just beneath the hair at the back of Clark's neck. "I love you." 

"Hmmm." Okay. That made up for natural disasters, Clark thought, and it made him smile. He tilted his head back slightly and chuckled. "Race you to bed," he teased. 

"Only if I let go of you," Lex countered, arms tightening playfully. "You'll have to *drag* me." 

"Hm. But then you'd have carpet burns," Clark teased, turning slightly to press kisses against Lex's mouth. There was no way anybody would get pictures of them with the curtains closed and a hurricane building outside. "Want to be on top?" 

"*Yes*. I spent all morning on the phone to France. You must've known." His kisses back were slower, more focused. Lex liked to eat at Clark's mouth, nibbling at his bottom lip. "I'll drag *you* to bed." 

"Mkay." Okay, because France made Lex *horny*, and that meant caveman Lex in bed, and all of that was good for Clark. He let Lex keep kissing him, and shifted when hands pulled at him, tugging him to standing. He'd follow Lex anywhere. Particularly to bed, when he was in a Napoleonic mood.  

"Let's scandalize the help," Lex murmured, kissing Clark's neck, and then his mouth again, walking Clark backwards towards the door. 

"Mhm." That sounded like a good idea. Lois would find out, and then she would yell, because being press secretary let her have even *more* control over Clark's life than before. It was hell. 

He loved doing those little things to her, especially when it meant he could cling to Lex's hips like that. Lex had the best hips of any man in the world. Smooth muscled, with perfect faintly jutting points that Clark liked to put his thumbs on before he usually slipped his hands backwards. This time he just held on, while Lex kept kissing him, walking him backwards through the wing to get to their bedroom. 

Caveman 'I want to take over FRANCE' Lex was the best thing ever. Clark knew he was going to get laid like never before. He was counting on it, in fact, so he made sure that neither of them stumbled on the way to the bed. Nothing like a broken toe to take the edge off of sex. Lex would've dropped everything in favor of whining about a busted foot if he tripped on something.  

They made it safely, even if they did brush past the head of Lex's staff in the hallway. Lex was too busy already opening Clark's shirt for him to get a word in. Half the world was going to be scandalized tomorrow if it got out, and Clark was way too interested in getting laid to care. 

"Should we lock the door?" he managed to get out against Lex's throat, biting at the faint flutter of pulse beneath the skin there. 

"Umhuh." Lex was still trying to be entirely in control, which meant unbuckling Clark's belt, and pulling his pants down for him. Clark seriously thought that maybe next time, he'd try on that red dress Lex kept threatening him about. 

Well. At least in their bedroom. 

After all, the day he wanted to try the red dress would be the day that DC had an earthquake or something. He really didn't want to tempt fate until they were somewhere that wasn't the seat of the government.  

He managed to fumble the door open and then slammed it shut behind them, shimmying his hips so that his pants hit the floor. 

"Oh, God. Tell me that erection is all mine." 

"It's *all* yours, baby," Clark grinned, giving another hip shimmy. That got him tackled onto the wide bed that Lex had ordered for the two of them. Clark was so tall that his feet had hung off the end of the presidential bed for the first three days they were in residence. 

"Oh yeah. I'm going to take my flag and plant it *hard*," Lex laughed, getting his own pants off while he pinned Clark down to the mattress with alternating limbs -- knees first, then hands, then whole naked body. 

"Call me a conquered country," Clark sighed. He really loved it when they played silly political word games in bed. It made him want to sprawl open and offer Lex everything he had from the toes up. 

What do you know? There went his knees parting now. 

"I claim you in the name..." Lex got his arms under Clark's knees, hefting them up onto his shoulders. "Of The U.S. of A." 

"Hallelujah. Praise the Lord." It was difficult not to laugh, but that was half the fun, wasn't it? Clark wriggled a little more, an invitation if there had ever been one. 

Lube was... optional fun, at least for a superhuman who'd been having sex with Lex for years. "Oh yeah. I just need to make sure the... Flag's going to get in nice and deep." Lex held his dick tight in one hand, rubbing the head right against Clark's hole. 

Yeah. 

Laughter was inevitable, but thank God Lex shoved the pole in right about the time that Clark thought he was going to burst into chuckles. "Ohhhh, *fuck* me..." 

Now it was time for Lex to laugh, grinning like a madman as he pushed his hips in hard against Clark's ass, then pulled out. His hands gripped onto Clark's knees. "Doing it..." 

"Best *ever*," Clark groaned, but he said that every time. It helped that he could fly, could levitate his ass to apply equal force when he met Lex's down thrust. Fuck, it felt so good, pushing, pushing, foreplay not much of a necessity. 

Clark didn't like to admit it, but the fact of it was, natural disasters made him *horny*. Foreplay was something for lazy nights, not dangerous nights, not eager nights. This... 

Every night was the best night ever for Clark, because Lex just got better and better. He was holding Clark's knees, stroking to fuck him just right. The bed was shaking, creaking with every push both of them gave, and Clark snuck his hand between them to the juncture of his thighs, rubbing, rubbing. 

The wind picked up outside, howling, probably covering the slap-slap-slap of flesh, but not quite silencing Clark's steady groans. 

"Oh, God, oh, fuck, oh, God, oh, MISTER PRESIDENT!" 

Yeah. Anyone around heard that cry, and they were probably heading for the other wing of the building. Just so that they didn't know what was going on, or had some plausible deniability once Lois got hold of things. 

Just then, the only hold that mattered was Clark's fingers on his own dick. "Oh, oh fuck, yeah. Salute your Chief!" 

Saluting was *so* not a problem. Just the words, funny as they were, made Clark spew, spilling frantically over his hand in a spray of semen that splashed all the way up to his left cheek. 

Wow. 

Lex came somewhere in there; Clark ended up bent in half because Lex wouldn't let go of his knees just yet. He looked cute that way, slumped onto Clark's semen pool. 

Really cute. 

Except... 

Was that the *roof* giving that dangerous creaking sound!? 

"What the... Lex!" 

"Mmm, you have such a sexy stomach," Lex mumbled right into his sternum. 

THUD.THUDTHUD! 

Thud was a bad sound, but at least it wasn't the roof. In fact, Clark was pretty sure that it had to be an earthquake, or... 

"Lex? I think we broke the bed." 

"Wha's the whumping noise?" Lex lifted his head a little bit, letting go of Clark's knees. 

"The mattress hitting the floor." Ah, well. At least they hadn't broken that... 

*crack* 

"Maybe we should try sleeping in the Lincoln Bedroom..." 

Lex stared at Clark from the same vantage as before, except that they were now both almost on floor level. "No. Never. Not the way we make our own little disasters."

"The Dubya room?" 

"Mm. It is historical, but... hell. So are we, Clark. So are we."

END