Expectations: Dreaming

Sleeping, when you're seven months pregnant is not an easy thing. Sleeping when you're 6'3" and pregnant with triplets is even more difficult.

There were a lot of things that were tough now. The flip-flops - easy to wear, but not really Clark's favorite footwear. He was a boot kind of guy, always was, always would be. But not now, with his feet swollen to the size of footballs.

The three babies were making even the normal, every day things hard. Somehow, using his x-ray vison to find his dick and see the bowl so he could pee didn't seem overly superheroic. But it was better than missing.

The muumuus weren't exactly his choice either, and the whole thing had gotten better since the new ones, in Hugo Boss designs and colors, had arrived.

Clark still missed the electric blue with the pineapples, but it had disappeared when the new ones had arrived. He wondered if Lex had burned them, or if he'd be able to find it in a ragpile somewhere.

He didn't remember his pregnancy with Lexine being this hard, but maybe it was just a case of the shock eclipsing most of the memories.

Turning his head, Clark looked over at Lex, who slept, his mouth open just a bit, snoring gently. Like this, he reminded Clark of their babies, growing and kicking inside him. Laying a hand on his belly, Clark closed his eyes, remembering what it was like the first time.

Metropolis had been good to Clark Kent.

He had a job at the Daily Planet, working with Lois Lane, who was the best reporter in town. He lived with his boyfriend in a penthouse and drove a variety of sports cars when he needed to go out. He also dressed up in blue tights every night and foiled evildoers and rescued kittens, but that wasn't something he liked to talk about.

Especially the tights.

Things were, ten years after high school graduation, pretty damn good for Clark Kent.

So why did he feel so bad?

It had started about a month ago.

Getting home from the Sharks game, Clark had started to cry as he thought about the team's loss. Lex had stared at him for a minute, then looking completely flummoxed, had hugged him and cuddled him. That had made him feel much better. Clark's usual huge appetite had come and gone, and he was getting sick in the mornings, so often so that he usually refused to eat in the morning, instead, he'd go straight into work.

It was after the fifth time this month that he had forced Lois to pull over and stop her car so he could throw up that she had said something that made him think. Lois had lit another cigarette; the smell caused Clark's gorge to rise and he motioned for her to pull over again. "Jeez, Clark. What are you, pregnant?"

He wouldn't have thought of that on his own. But thinking about it, he remembered that the computer in the Kryptonian structure at the North Pole had said something continuing the line of El. Well, apparently that wasn't just an elevated train in Chicago.

On his way home, Clark picked up five pregnancy tests, a jar of Nutella and a loaf of garlic bread. After his snack, the garlic bread dipped in the Nutella, Clark had gone into the bathroom with the boxes.

The first test was supposed to turn pink if the result was positive. He dropped it in the toilet after missing the little hole at the end of the stick.

The second one was supposed to have a plus sign if he was pregnant, but it kind of... flew out of his hand on impact and didn't get what needed to be wet, wet.

The third one was supposed to turn blue if the result was positive. He kept his grip tight on it and it had turned blue.

The fourth one was supposed to have a red plus sign if he was pregnant. When he got the red plus sign, Clark began to wonder when he was going to wake up.

Deciding that until he did, he needed another snack, Clark hid the fifth test behind the shaving lotion in his medicine cabinet and buried the used tests at the bottom of the trash can. Then he went down to the kitchen for something to eat.

He was dead to the world on the sofa in the study when Lex got home. Who would have thought that Lucky Charms swimming in Tabasco sauce and chocolate sauce was a sedative?

"Clark?" Lex was sitting at his feet, looking down at him in concern when Clark woke.

"Lex..." Clark was definitely feeling foggy, and it took him a few times to get himself turned around enough to sit upright. He leaned over for his kiss, and got it, after a few seconds of narrow-eyed regard.

"Are you okay?" Lex asked him and Clark felt guilty noticing that Lex looked tired, Lionel must have been in fine form today.

"Ummm... we need to talk, but why don't we wait until after supper?"

"Clark, if there is something I should know, I want to know now."

He looked at Lex, but he was really hungry. "It can wait."

"Clark, tell me."

"I think I'm pregnant."

Lex sighed and got up. "Fine, if you don't want to talk about it, we can talk about it later," he said as he walked to the door.

"Lex..."

"No, we can talk after supper, if you want to, that is." Lex was out the door and across the marble floor that led up to the staircase by the time Clark managed to get to the door of the study.

"Damn it," he muttered as a wave of nausea hit, forcing him to the downstairs powder room.

Dinner was served in the patio, and was, Clark thought thankfully, a simple meal of thinly sliced steak, tomatoes, and fresh mozzarella with a green salad.

"Are you ready to tell me now?" Lex asked, drinking his wine and leaning back into his chair.

"Lex, you know that I'm... different." Lex nodded and Clark went on. "But I guess I never thought how different, you know?"

"Clark, what is it?" Lex sounded worried.

"IthinkI'mpregnantsoItookafewpregnancytestsandtheywereallpositive."

"Clark, that's not funny."

"Lex, I'm not kidding."

Lex put his wineglass down with a thump, licking the droplets off his hand as he walked over to the railing, looking out on Metropolis. Sighing, Clark decided he only had one option left. He strode up to Lex and grabbed his hand, and pulled him, careful of his strength, back into the penthouse and into the master bath.

"Clark, what the hell?"

Clark emptied the trash can out on to the counter, boxes, sticks, and folded paper instructions piled up. "See?" Lex was looking at him strangely. Sighing, Clark pulled open the medicine cabinet and took out the final pregnancy test. He ripped open the box and the test went flying. Lex caught it and stared at him, an expression, what Clark hoped was growing belief, in his eyes.

Or it could have just been dawning horror.

Pulling down his pants, Clark leaned over and grabbed the test from Lex's slack hand and tried to pee.

And nothing happened.

"Damn it," Clark cried in embarrassment and frustration.

"Clark, I know it's been a busy couple of weeks, and you haven' t been feeling your best... "

"Lex, I think I'm pregnant."

"Clark, men do not get pregnant."

"Human men don't." He stared into those stormy blue eyes.

Lex ran a hand over his scalp as he stared at Clark who stood there, penis in one hand, the white stick of the pregnancy test in the other. "Clark..."

"Lex, four tests. All were positive. Well, the ones that worked, were." Clark turned around to try again. Thankfully, this time he dribbled, just enough to hit the indicator part of the test. Looking back up at Lex, his eyes wild, he laughed. "This will be five..."

Putting the test on the counter, Clark pulled up his pants, and sat down on the edge of the tub. Lex joined him, putting an arm around his shoulder, pulling Clark's head to his shoulder.

Five minutes later, Lex's eyes grew huge as he looked at the big blue plus sign in the indicator cup of the test. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Lex, I'm having your baby."

"Oh, god."

Lex muttered in his sleep, pulling Clark out of his memories. He watched as Lex kicked the covers off and turned onto his back, one arm over his head, the other flailing off the bed. Something, hormones or something more primal caused Clark to stare as Lex spread out and took more of the king-sized bed.

Inelegantly balancing on his stomach, much like a teeter-totter, Clark leaned over and ran a finger down Lex's chest. Smooth skin over hard muscle... The bulge beneath the silk twitched, and Clark decided that there were, even in his condition, a few things they could do.

Lifting into the air, he tilted as he hovered over Lex and reached for the waistband of Lex's pajama pants.

Sometimes Lex dreamed about the whole impending triple fatherhood thing. The first time had been surreal enough, being dragged into the bathroom to watch Clark pee on a stick hadn't exactly been on Lex Luthor's 'Must Do' list.

Once he had recovered enough to realize that this was going to happen, he had chosen to look at it like a science project. One in which his lover, his male lover, spawned.

Okay, so it wasn't that easy.

But he managed it.

Clark had been four months pregnant before they had told either of their parents. Lex still couldn't think about the day they had told the Kents about their impending grandparenthood without drinking.

A lot.

The day he told Lionel had been anti-climactic at best.

Lionel had been giving him strange looks all day, but Lex managed to keep enough attention on the meeting to put on a good show. When the corporate heads had left for the day, leaving Lex alone with Lionel, he had ignored his father and gone straight to the bottle of 30 year-old whiskey in the hidden bar.

"Lex, what are you doing?"

"Having a drink."

"If you can't handle a simple meeting like this, you'll never be able to deal with the global conglomerates."

"Dad, not today."

Lionel looked at him with what could have been concern, or would have been on a normal parent. "What's wrong?"

Lex pondered. He wouldn't be able to keep this a secret forever, and the more time he had to talk Lionel out of doing something stupid, like vivisecting or selling Clark to the DOD, the better.

"You remember when I told you that Clark was different?"

"Yes, I could hardly forget," Lionel said, crossing to the bar and pouring himself a glass.

"He's really different."

"Yes, yes. Love of your life and all that."

Lex sighed. "We're pregnant."

Lionel seemed to perk up at this and looked at him. "Does Hephaestion know?"

"I told you not to call him that."

"Whatever. Who is she? And when is Heph... Clark moving out?"

"There's no she."

"Lex, I'm not in the mood for games."

"Clark is very special. And pregnant."

"Your boytoy is pregnant."

"He's not my boytoy, but yes, he's pregnant."

"Oh, Lex. I should have kept a better eye on you. Should have known those drugs would affect your mind someday."

"I'm not kidding."

"Lex..."

"Clark is an alien and he's pregnant with my baby." Funny how saying it aloud made it both real and completely ridiculous sounding.

Lionel hadn't even blinked, just reached for his phone, calling for a limo to take Lex home.

Lionel hadn't believed until a very strained Christmas dinner, with Clark seven months pregnant and showing. The meal had been a lot of fun for everyone, Jonathan very indignant that Lionel's son had knocked up his son, and saying so in the middle of the plum pudding.

His father had looked interesting with a gooey piece of cake falling out of his hair when Jonathan, after half a bottle of wine, had lost his temper. Lex could only wish for more family gatherings like that.

Dreaming about his family made Lex restless, and he shifted in his sleep, but didn't wake. He moaned, his subconscious informing him that he was warm, an echo sliding through his groin, warm and pleasurable. Waking slowly, Lex looked down, to see a dark head, then green eyes were peering up at him, full lips around his cock, sucking, taunting.

Clark was levitating above the bed, above Lex, and there was nothing for Lex to do but thrust his hips up, sliding down Clark's throat. It had been so long since they had done anything, since their forced five week stay in Metropolis for Lex's vasectomy, Clark's unease with his body and the three growing babies.

It was like heaven, wet, soft, fuckable heaven.

"Oh, god, Clark," Lex wailed as he came and Clark swallowed, floating above him.

It was like being sucked off by Shamu.

Lex pushed the thought aside as he slipped free of those soft lips, as Clark turned and floated back to the bed.

Pushing Clark back down to the mattress when he tried to sit up, Lex slid down to the end of the bed and pushed the sleeping muumuu Clark was wearing up over his belly. Licking his palm, Lex stroked Clark's erection, pushing his lover easily to fulfillment, even as he angled his hand to avoid the mound of his children-to-be.

Clark sighed happily, replete and happy, and Lex had to admit he felt the same.

They were kissing, reassuring caresses, when the baby monitor sounded. Getting out of the bed, Lex went to the nursery, returning with Lexine, who looked annoyed at having the daddy without the milk sacs come at her call. She settled immediately when Lex set her in Clark's arms, and she homed in on a man-tit like a homing pigeon.

Watching his pregnant lover nurse their daughter, Lex began to get an uneasy feeling about how this was all going to work when there were four babies.

Oh, god.