"You sure you don't mind being alone on your birthday, Jimmy?"

"No, Mom, I'll be fine. You go see Aunt Clara. This'll be the first anniversery of Uncle Simon's death, and she needs you with her."

"You're a good boy, Jimmy. But are you sure? This'll be the first time you've ever spent your birthday alone."

"About that, Mom. I was wondering if it would be alright if I invited someone over to help me celebrate."

Millicent Olsen looked at her son. He'd grown up so much lately. He had always known that he wanted to be a journalist, now he was finding out what else he wanted out of life. "I think that would be a good idea, son. I'd be happy, knowing you weren't alone." She paused, "About the cake, I know that you're easy to please. Do you suppose Clark would like chocolate, or vanilla?" Jimmy kissed his mother on the cheek gratefully.

Clark had been avoiding him even more stringently since the incident in the washroom. But Jimmy would look up to find him watching, and it was a moment before he'd look away.

That next morning, Jimmy waited untill Lois was busy rattling off copy, so that their chaparone would be distracted. He went to Clark's desk, not getting too close, and said softly, "Hey."

He looked up, and seemed to hold the paper in his hand just a little bit tighter. "Yes, Jimmy?"

"My mom said I could invite you over to help celebrate my birthday." He cleared his throat. "My eighteenth birthday. It's today."

The paper crinkled. Clark didn't blink, didn't seem to breath. He said slowly. "Today." Jimmy nodded. "Your mother's idea?"

"My idea. She said it was okay and baked a cake."

Clark relaxed a little, and smiled. "Well, I can't turn down you're mother's cooking? What time should I be there?"

"What time are you free?"

"I don't have anything planned for tonight."

"So you don't have to worry about when to leave. That's good. Would it be too much trouble to give me a ride home, then?" Clark started to frown, and Jimmy said quietly. "I could sit in the backseat, if you want."

His expression softened. "No, that's not necessary. I'll see you outside after work."

Jimmy stayed over on the passenger side on the drive to his apartment, and they talked about... things. He never could remember what later on. Baseball? The looming sanitation strike? He DID know that they didn't talk about Lois... or the incident in the men's room.

In the apartment, Jimmy went and opened a window, switching on a fan to stir the still, warm air. "Sorry it's so hot in here. Don't dare leave the windows open with no one here these days."

Clark hesitated, frowning. "Your mother isn't here?"

"She won't be gone long." Jimmy took off his bow tie and opened his shirt collar with a sigh of relief. "Boy that feels better. Good to be home. Why don't you take off your jacket, Clark? You know you don't have to stand on ceremony here."

"I'm not sure I should..."

"C'mon, you're sweating. It won't hurt anything."

Clark took off his jacket and hung it neatly over a chair while Jimmy went into the kitchen. After a moment's thought, he slowly removed his tie and put it in his jacket pocket, then rolled his sleeves up to his elbows.

Jimmy returned juggling plates, knife, forks, and one of the smallest cakes Clark had ever seen. It was no bigger around than a saucer, but it had been lovingly decorated. There was a single molded candle, "18" in the center. "Yeah, you look more comfortable now." He indicated the tiny pastry. "Mom had a bigger cake last night. We had a couple of my friends over from school."

"You didn't have to get another one specially for me. I would have been happy with crumbs," Clark joked.

Jimmy depositted his load carefully. "I didn't want you to have leftovers." He looked at his friend seriously. "Don't you think you deserve more than crumbs, Clark?"

*All the times in my life,* Jimmy thought, *that I've colored up, this is the first time I've made someone else blush.* He got a match, and lit the candle.

"Shouldn't we wait for your mother?"

"No, we had our celebration last night. This is for just me and you." He sat back and looked at Clark. "Well? Are you going to sing, or are we going to be eating wax?"

Clark rolled his eyes, and sang 'Happy Birthday' in a smooth, pleasant baritone. Jimmy promptly blew out the candle with one strong puff. Clark clapped. "Well, one thing about a single candle, less chance of not getting you wish."

Jimmy removed the candle and cut the cake.. "I had the whole eighteen last night, and I got them all."

"What did you wish for?"

Jimmy's head was tipped down as he distributed the slices. He glanced up at Clark, peering through eyelashes that were startlingly dark with his pale coloring. Clark's breath caught in his thoat. Jimmy murmured, "If I tell, it might not come true. I want it to come true." He offered a plate to Clark.

Clark took it, and held it. Jimmy didn't pick up his own plate. Clark said slowly, "Where's your mother, Jimmy? I thought she told you to invite me."

"She's at my Aunt Clara's. and she'll be gone for the weekend. We celebrated early, because she was going to be away."

Jimmy wanted to look at the floor, look at his hands, look anywhere but into those blue eyes while he laid himself open. But he forced himself to face Clark, and said simply, "I had a talk with her."

Clark was very still, then he set his plate back on the table. "How did it go?"

Jimmy shrugged, smiling. "She's my Mom. She'll always be my Mom."

"I'm glad."

"She just worries about me. She's been worried about me being alone." He hesitated. "Not just on my birthday, but... alone. You know?"

There was a flash of pain in Clark's eyes. "Yes, I know."

The silence spun out. Finally, in a low voice, Jimmy said, "I'm eighteen. I've been eighteen since about seven this morning. That means I make my own decisions now."

Again there was silence. Jimmy closed his eyes. We can't say it, neither one of us, he thought. Then he remembered Clark's words in the break room. *If people are brave enough to follow their hearts.* Jimmy took a deep breath, and did one of the bravest things of his life. He risked the safety of friendship for something more.

"I want to be with you, Clark. As much as I can." He made direct eye contact. "Any way that you'll let me. That is, if you want anything to do with a mixed up guy who's just now figuring out what he wants."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. It took me longer than you to know what I wanted, and longer still to find it." Clark reached out, and gently touched Jimmy's face, tracing a finger down the line of his cheek, then cupped it, as he had at the Daily Planet. "And I can hardly believe it now. Would I want anything to do with you? Dear God..."

Once again his hand slid back into Jimmy's hair, combing through the flaming strands till he held the back of his head. His voice was rough. "You don't know what it's been like, watching you the last two years. Seeing you grow from a fresh kid to a young man. Not daring to touch you, or tell you how I felt."

Jimmy slid his arms loosely around Clark's waist, not demanding. He whispered, "I've had feelings for you for a long time. I just wasn't sure what they were. And... and lately when you wouldn't talk to me..." Before his friend could apologize, Jimmy said hastily, "No, I understand why you did it. You didn't want me to feel pressured."

His voice was ragged. "It wasn't all that noble, Jimmy. I was afraid that if I was alone with you, I wouldn't be able to stop myself. I didn't want to scare you."

"Did I act scared in the men's room?" He tightened his embrace, pulling closer to Clark He felt the grip in his hair tighten.

"No."

"How did I act?"

There was a hint of amusement in the rising heat of his voice. "The truth? You acted like a wanton little hussy."

"A frustrated wanton hussy." Jimmy corrected. He licked his lips. "So what are you gonna do about it?"

There was a low growl, and Clark used his grip on Jimmy's hair to pull him forward. This time when their mouths touched, Jimmy already had his lips parted. He was a fast learner

. The kiss was less desperate than the one they'd shared before. Instead of a declaration, it was an initiation. The start of something that was going to be very important, and very sweet.

Jimmy had kissed girls before, 'good girls', and it was nothing like this. This was warm and wet and deep and soft and rough, all at once. It was gentle, and hungry. And Jimmy returned it with every fiber of his being. Soon he started to feel dizzy, and he couldn't tell if it was from sensory overload, or lack of oxygen.

Finally he pulled back a little, gasping, "Breathe. Gotta breathe, Clark."

"Sorry."

"No, it's just that this won't be much fun if I pass out, will it?" Clark laughed. As he did, Jimmy took the opportunity to pluck off his glasses and lay them aside. Those gorgeous blue eyes didn't look any more unfocussed, and he wondered if maybe Clark needed them more as a sheild from the world than as vision correction. He purred, "Why, Mr. Kent. You're beautiful without your glasses!"

This sent them both into a fit of laughter. They clung to each other, the laughter rippling, dispelling tension. Then suddenly Clark's arm tightened around him again, and Jimmy looked up into eyes that still burned, but had gone dark. "Want you, Jimmy," Clark whispers. "Want you so bad."

Jimmy dug his fingers sharply into Clark's back. "Then take me."

He was disappointed when Clark let go of him, but that only lasted an instant, because Clark wass opening his belt, unzipping his fly. *Oh God,* Jimmy thought. *It's happening, it's realy happening.* Clark was working at his own pants, and Jimmy could hardly breath. "Pull them down." Jimmy blinked at him. Clark repeated himself, firmly. "Your pants and shorts. Pull them down for me."

Starting to shake, Jimmy lifted on the couch, and slid the garments down his thighs, past his knees. Clark was doing the same, and Jimmy went round eyed. He'd seen other men, in the shower room at school, briefly at urinals. He hadn't really looked, or compared. Now his eyes were rivited to Clark's crotch.

He'd tucked aside his shirt tails. Jimmy could see the lower part of his abdomen, flat and ridged. A thin trickle of dark hair ran down to a curly thatch the same blue-black color of his hair. And Jimmy could have no lingering doubts as to whether or not his chosen lover found him attractive.

Clark was thoroughly aroused. He cock, long and thick, was rigid. The swollen head was a deep rose pink, and it was slick with the fluid that leaked from the tiny slit. Jimmy had been half hard himself. At the sight of Clark's obvious desire, and the knowledge that it was because of him... Staring, he gripped himself, squeezing.

"No." Clark took his hands, and pulled them over to wrap them around his own heated flesh. Then he took Jimmy's suddenly straining cock in his own hand and stroked softly. "That's better, isn't it?"

"Yes," Jimmy breathed. It was incredibly. He'd mastu rbated before, (like Lois had said, he was young and healthy), but it couldn't compair to this. He gave Clark's erection a tentative squeeze, and was rewarded with another breath stealing kiss. He began to touch the other man more boldly. He let his hands glide up and down the length of the hard shaft, feeling the skin slide against his palm like heated velvet. Clark was doing the same, but he wasn't hesitant about it. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, precisely what to do to give the maximum amount of pleasure, and Jimmy was grateful.

Jimmy reached farther down, and his hand found the soft, heavy sack of Clark's scrotum. He cradled it in his fingers, and massaged carefully. He was trying to be carefull. Too much pressure, he knew, could be painful tothe point of agony, but he knew from personal exploration how pleasureable the right sort of touch could be.

Clark moved suddenly. He half stood. One arm scooped Jimmy's legs, still with his clothes tangled around his ankles, onto the couch. The other turned and pushed him till he was lying flat. Then he was half on the couch, one knee braced beside Jimmy's bare hip, the other leg half bent, with his foot still on the floor. His hands were braced on either side of Jimmy's shoulders. "Is it all right like this, Jimmy? Do you want me like this?"

Jimmy writhed in frustration. "I want you any way I can get you. Please, Clark."

Clark jerked the collar of Jimmy's shirt to the side, popping a button that didn't have the good sense to slide free, and he dragged Jimmy's Fruit of the Loom undershirt aside. He buried his face in the curve where his neck met his shoulder, then lowered himself till their bare hard-ons brushed.

Jimmy groaned and trembled, clutching at his lover. He arched up, sliding himself against Clark. *Yes, this is right. This is so right.* Clark began to move against him, rocking his hips. Jimmy followed him as best he could, but he was rapidly losing any form of self control.

He wanted to touch Clark even more, but his hands tangled with Clark's shirt, and undershirt. He just couldn't manage to remove them while Clark was pushing against him, and he damn sure didn't want it to stop, for any reason. He wanted to wrap his legs around Clark, but his feet were still shackled by his trousers. He thrashed, moaning, "Stupid clothes! Stupid fucking clothes!"

There was a muffled laugh at his obscenity. It was so unlike Jimmy's usual manner of speech. But Clark didn't stop. He grabbed Jimmy's hands and pulled them up, pinning them against the cushion over his head, braced himself with his foot on the floor, and thrust against his young, writhing partner hard and fast.

Jimmy bucked against him hard. He had a feeling that his hips, and maybe even his belly, were going to be sore and a little bruised later, but he didn't care. It was a small price to pay for the mind numbing pleasure he was experiencing.

Then Clark was muttering in his ear. "I'm going to come soon, Jimmy. That's what you're doing to me. I want you to come, too. I'll make you come."

He reached between them. Without his arms to support it, his weight dropped down on Jimmy, just this side of being uncomfortable. His big hands encircled them both, holding their engorged cocks against each other. He pumped, whispering, "Move now!"

Jimmy pushed frantically, forcing himself deeper into that strong grip, tighter against the throbbing dick that pressed against his own. And he came with a hoarse cry, his cream shooting more strongly than it ever had before. His orgasm triggered Clark's, and Jimmy felt the pulse of the first orgasm he'd ever given another being. Clark cried out Jimmy's name, lunging against him as his seed spilled between them, slicking their heaving bellies. He thrust several more times, each splash diminishing. At last he lay still, except for the heaving of his breath.

When he could breath again, Jimmy spoke in a quiet, almost awestruck voice. "Wow."

Clark chuckled. "Yes, I think that deserved a wow." He propped himself up on his elbows, and kissed Jimmy, softly and sweetly. "I'm sorry it was over so soon, but I'd been waiting for a long time."

Jimmy hugged him. "Believe me, I didn't notice anything wrong."

"You may not be this easy to please, farther down the road."

Jimmy took Clark's face between his palms. "There will be other times, won't there, Clark?"

"Jimmy..." His voice was chiding. Clark sat up, pulling Jimmy with him. "You didn't think I'd want just a one night stand, did you?"

"I was hoping." He leaned against Clark's chest, just resting there. "You know what you're doing, don't you?"

Clark stroked his hair. "I wasn't a virgin coming into this, is that's what you mean? Does it bother you?"

"Heck no. It's good that one of us know's what they're doing. But you're with me now, right?"

Clark kissed his temple. "Yes. I'm with you. Just a second, Jimmy. I feel the need for a modicrum of dignity when I do this." He stood up and pulled up his pants, ignoring the mess on his belly and shirt, and fastened them. "You too."

"Why?"

"Because you're too distracting otherwise, you little tease. Go on." Jimmy reluctantly untangled his clothes and pulled them back up, fastening his pants, then sitting again. Clark pulled something out of his pocket and sat back down.

He was holding a small, oval, hinged wooden box. It was delicately carved with intricate patterns, varnished to a satin gleam. "Is that my birthday present?" Jimmy asked, interested.

"No, this is something very different." Clark traced his fingers over the patterns. "I made this myself. This, and what it contains, because it's meaning is too personal to be trusted to a stranger. I've had it for almost a year now. I've carried it with me all the time. I've been waiting for the right moment to offer it to you. I thought it was going to be a long time yet before I could, but now..."

He opened the box. It contained a puff of white satin, and he dug beneath it, and produced a ring. Jimmy stopped breathing.

It wasn't a classic wedding band, or a dainty engagement ring. It was weighty. It resembled a signet ring, and Jimmy could tell by the mellow gleam that it was real gold. He'd be able to tell later, by it's weight, that it was solid. Clark turned it, so that Jimmy could see the inscription inside, "KE/JO". Clark was explaining. "No date, because I wasn't sure when I'd feel like I could speak to you. And the initials... I have another name my parents gave me, one that's really me. If you decide you want to be with me, really be with me, I'll tell you about it."

He turned the ring over and showed him the face. There was a simple, elegant design etched in the flat gold face. It was something like a Celtic knot, but there was a touch of angularity, an echo of something exotic. "This symbol means 'joined'. If you accept it, it means that we're bonded. It's an oath, a promise. It's as strong as a marriage vow, Jimmy. So think carefully."

Jimmy stared at the ring, now cradled in Clark's palm. Clark said quietly. "I shouldn't have done this so soon, but... You don't have to decide now, Jimmy. I can wait. I've been waiting a long time, I can wait a little longer."

Jimmy picked up the ring. "I can't. I guess I can tell you now. This is what I wished for. Which finger does this go on?"

the end