Disclaimer: The following piece of writing is a fantasy. It never happened. It has nothing to do with Smallville or the CW or any of the creators of any of the permutations of the characters mentioned. It is no different than writing down a dream I had about a TV show in my dream journal and then sharing that dream journal with my friends via an LJ post. It is no different than talking in a public forum about how much better a movie would have been if it had ended a different way than it did and then lining out that different way. I don't make money from my fantasies, nor any other gain but to hear what other people of like mind think of said fantasies. And no one has domain over my fantasies nor how I choose to express them.
Feedback: Only if you're honest. Chocolate and champagne are always nice, but only if it's honest chocolate and champagne. I'm a sucker for good constructive criticism.
Warnings: Plot ruthlessly sacrificed for porn. Slash. Angst.
Spoilers: Watch up to Prodigal first.
Prequels: Fourth in the "Manual Transmission" series (MTS). Go home for the first three.
Sequels: The next in this continuing series is "Merging Onto the Highway." Link at the bottom.
Summary: Not every shift is a smooth one. Transmissions tend to stick, gears tend to grind, and when the various parts do not communicate properly, stalling is imminent.
Dedication:
To Sara Andrea Vera, who spoils me.
(Please note that this fic has not been beta'ed, and any errors, glaring or otherwise, are strictly mine, as is any and all bad quality.)
Grinding It Into Third byline: bipolypesca creation date: May 2006
* * * * * *
I love you, too.
I love you, too!
His mind screamed it so loudly, so desperately, and with such insistence, that it hurt his head. His mouth was hanging open, his tongue lifted, his lungs full, ready for the words to come.
And he was puzzled, perhaps even surprised, when it became clear to him that he absolutely could not say it.
His confusion at himself must have shown on his face. Because Lex smiled lopsidedly and let out a breathy chuckle, and then, with a quick motion, grabbed him behind the neck to pull him down for a hard kiss that went on for a long, long while.
After their bodies had been still for a minute, a gentle rocking of Lex's hips encouraged him to resume his quiet, soft, controlled thrusting. Clark took it up easily as if he had never paused.
When Lex finally released his mouth, his eyes remained closed in pleasure, and Clark watched him. He was still wondering at himself, at his inaction. He was still wishing he could find some way to just say it—to say everything. He was still aching to find a way to do it without causing pain, without showing hypocrisy, without cheapening his feelings for Lex and their intensity.
He wondered if he could think about it for a decade and still not find a way.
Lex's eyes were still closed on him, but his body began to undulate more forcefully. The short nails scratching at Clark's back dug in deeper, probably deep enough to draw blood on a human, and the legs wrapped around his waist encouraged harder, faster thrusting.
Tightness squeezing down around him, Clark's breath caught in his throat, and his conscious decision to be gentle and go slow was suddenly lost to him. Desire overtook his body and directed his motion. The sounds of hot grunting and half-spoken words filled the air as they both worked hard toward completion. Lex's back arched, shifting the angle of Clark's entry, and his hand flew to his own erection.
Clark tried to bat him away and do it himself, but his hand was shoved back roughly. Lex let go of himself just long enough to yank Clark down by the wrists, so that he was hovering over Lex's body, his palms flat on the bed.
"Just fuck me. Do it hard."
Clark felt his face heat and his ears burn, but he did as Lex asked. Fingers curling into the mattress what might have been too tightly, he pumped his hips fast and hard while he watched Lex jerk himself off.
Lex's fingers were almost white at the knuckles, and what Clark could make out of his cock through the stroking looked soaked with the sweat of Lex's palm. Clark felt his balls tighten up from watching, and he made a short whining sound in the back of his throat to convey his distress.
"Don't slow down," Lex ground out through clenched teeth. His head was pressed back hard into the mattress, the pillow that used to be under his head having fallen unnoticed to the floor, and his eyes were still tightly closed.
When Clark spoke, it was all gasps and pants. "Lex, I'm gonna—"
"Don't slow down!"
Lex's fist sped up, and he lifted partway off the bed, using his other hand on Clark's back as leverage. Taking it as a signal, whether it was meant to be or not, Clark wrapped his arms under Lex's back, holding him up a few inches from the bed, and when he thrust forward, Lex cried out at the change in position.
"God, Lex—
"Ohh, fuck, I'm gonna come."
With another wordless shout, Lex's head fell back, exposing his throat, and in seconds, something warm and wet splattered across Clark's chest. Clark's groan was choked. Feeling both frightened and weakened as his release started before Lex's was finished, he fell forward, dropping them both back to the mattress, and made sure to bury his hands in sheets instead of skin. He pressed his face tightly against the side of Lex's neck, yelling Lex's name there. It became muffled and sounded more like 'yes' than 'Lex,' but that was okay, because both applied.
When it was long over and the only sound in the room was a duo of spent, shuddered panting, Clark reached shakily down to steady himself at the root, and pulled carefully out. Lex grunted quietly, and in a blur, Clark watched him swiftly slide out from under him.
Still dazed and unintelligent, Clark was rather confused by Lex's moving away until Lex was situated on his side on the other end of the bed, and gestured to Clark with a heavy, unsteady hand. "C'mere. It's soaking wet over there," Lex panted.
"Oh." Crawling like some drunken two-ton, four-legged beast, Clark barely made it to Lex's side before collapsing face-first into the last pillow still left on the bed. He groaned loud and high and comical, and Lex chuckled, rubbing at Clark's sweaty shoulder with a sweatier hand.
"Gonna make it?" Lex asked wryly.
Clark shook his head in the negative, his wet face rubbing against the pillowcase. "I thought you said it was different every time," he said, mumbling his words. "When do we get to the banal, boring, easy-to-control-myself-during-it sex?"
"I'll try to do better next time," Lex said, chuckling, and rolled onto his back with a groan.
With a slow, lazy turn of his head, Clark was finally able to watch Lex on the other side of the pillow. He got an arm out from under his own chest and tossed it over Lex's stomach. It landed there with a wet slap.
Lex glanced over at the clumsy touch and offered a quick one-sided smile, then went back to staring at the ceiling. He looked beatific and slightly dazed, and Clark found himself opening his mouth yet again to let out the words that wouldn't come.
He closed it again in defeat and sighed heavily.
"You all right?" Lex asked the ceiling.
Clark nodded, then muttered 'yeah' when he remembered Lex couldn't see him. "Just totally beat. I want to sleep."
"Better not."
"I know."
Clark didn't have to check his watch to know it was time to get going. It wasn't close to curfew—it was daylight—but he'd been at Lex's too long as it was. He couldn't start making a habit of these extra-long visits. Not if they were going to stick to their plan.
With a stretch and a satiated groan, he lumbered his way up to hover heavily over Lex's form, smirking. Lex blinked away from the ceiling to meet his gaze for a short moment. The corners of Lex's mouth turned up the tiniest bit, and then he broke the eye contact to go back to ceiling watching.
Clark's brow knitted together. "You okay? I didn't hurt you, did I?"
"Oh, no, Clark, I'm fine," Lex almost rushed to assure him. He met Clark's eyes for real this time and slid a damp hand up Clark's tensed arm. He laughed lazily. "I'm just beat, too. And all sympathy regarding your responsibilities aside, I think I will take a nap."
Clark twisted his lips in a wry expression. "Well, that's just mean."
Lex grunted in agreement, obviously holding back a smirk. "Luthor mentality. I was bred for sleeping to spite you."
The smile broke easily through Clark's defences and he chuckled as he laid his head carefully down on Lex's sternum. "I hope you'll at least bother to dream about me."
"I'll make a concerted effort."
Clark decided to close his eyes for just one quick second. What seemed like directly after, Lex shook his shoulders.
"You're falling asleep."
"No m'not."
There was a short pause, and Lex's personal brand of satire crackled through the silence. "You were snoring."
"Oh." Clark let out a defeated rush of breath and began to force himself to sit up. He was slightly startled when Lex caught his face between warm hands, but quickly melted into the touch and smiled.
Lex swallowed visibly and pursed his lips a little before he said a word. Then, quickly, "Clark, I meant—"
When he cut off, Clark's breath hitched in his chest while he anticipated the rest of the sentence and hoped he could find a way to reciprocate without damages.
"I meant it when I said... uh..." Lex's eyes were searching his rapidly, but deeply, and Clark wondered if he was supposed to say something instead of just waiting for Lex to finish.
But then Lex did finish, and Clark felt foolish for what he'd been thinking. "I meant it when I said I was tired," Lex said, and he caressed Clark's cheeks softly before letting his hands slip down to rest on Clark's shoulders. "I think I'm going to fall asleep here any second," he went on with a chuckle. "So you'd better either go, or call and make an excuse, because I doubt I'll be conscious to wake you up the next time you nod off."
Clark smiled sheepishly and ducked his head. He honestly hadn't even realized he'd been nodding off.
He placed what was supposed to be a soft kiss on Lex's lips, but Lex buried a hand in his hair and made it rougher, dazing, and lasting. It also made Clark stumble just a little when he got out of the bed. His legs were steady as always, but his equilibrium was floating.
Lex laughed quietly. "Watch it there, Kent."
"Your fault," Clark threw over his shoulder while he hunted his boxer shorts.
There was a shuffling on the bed, and Clark looked up just in time to find Lex whipping them at him by the elastic band. He could have easily caught them with his speed, but human reflexes probably would have missed, so he just let them bounce off of his chest. He stood there looking stunned, and blinked a few times.
Lex laughed a little louder. "Perhaps I should drive you home," he got out between chuckles. "I'd hate for you to be dodging traffic that badly."
Clark had started mumbling something when he snatched up his jeans by the legs, and a tin came tumbling out of one of the pockets. It hit corner-first on the floor and popped open, causing little round, white pill-sized things to scatter everywhere.
Lex leaned up on a shaky elbow and peered curiously at them while Clark went about gathering them up. "Altoids," Lex mumbled under his breath. He fell back to his pillow with a breathy chuckle. "That's why it takes so long to fade," he said, laughing, at the ceiling.
Clark almost asked what Lex meant, then flushed hotly with the realization that Lex had apparently been wondering about his intensely minty breath every time he came over since they'd first kissed months ago in his bed. Maybe he should buy a different kind—something milder.
He shoved the tin back into the pocket, and his feet through the leg holes. A quick glance told him Lex wasn't watching, so he went ahead and wiggled his way into the hips. "School'll be over soon," he said conversationally while he reached inside and smoothed his boxers flat against his legs. "It'll be easier to come see you and, you know, stay longer."
A smile slowly spread over Lex's lips. "I hear an unspoken promise of more frequent sex in those words, young man."
Clark's face burned. He cleared his throat quietly. "Actually, I was thinking more about getting to... you know..." He trailed off and gestured circularly with a hand when Lex glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow. "You know," he insisted. "Hang out. After."
Lex turned more fully toward him, leaning up on his elbow, and his eyes sparkled with mischievousness. "Clark? Are you trying to tell me you wanna cuddle?" He tone was teasing, and both eyebrows went up in question.
Clark affected composure as he pulled his shirt slowly over his head to hide his red stained cheeks for a second. He tried out the most passive face he could manage. "I wouldn't be averse to it," he said with a casual shrug.
Lex laughed out loud, and Clark had to meet his eyes, which was when he lost the ability to keep his smile at bay.
"Come earlier next time," Lex suggested. "We'll work it in."
"Deal." Shoving his feet into his boots, Clark took the required step forward to lean down and place a final kiss on Lex's lips. Lex let this one stay soft. "I don't know when," Clark whispered when they parted for a moment.
"Just call," Lex breathed back easily.
A last peck, and Clark made his way to the exit, patting self-consciously at his hair. He threw a parting smile over his shoulder to meet Lex's before closing the door quietly behind him.
*
Lex kept his satiated smile on his face until the door clicked closed. Then it fell heavily and with immediacy.
He didn't think he'd ever been so embarrassed in his life. Just blurting it out like that—without grace, without timing, without even the certainty of reciprocation. A long look of pained lust in Clark's eyes mistaken for something else, and Lex had recklessly bared his soul without thought of consequence. How could he have been so foolish?
It should have been easy for him to simply cast the words aside, brand them as an endorphin-induced utterance, but for the fact that he felt the emotion so strongly it was experienced mainly as pain. Comparing the weight of that pain to the weight of this embarrassment and yet further pain that his feelings weren't returned only made Lex berate himself more.
The way Clark had looked at him when he'd said it—the near confusion on his face—like he was gazing down at an interesting bug that had just done something utterly perplexing, it was... really quite more than Lex had been prepared to handle.
Lex sighed steadily and rubbed at his drying face with his still slightly sweaty palms. He certainly did feel a fool. He didn't blame Clark. It wasn't Clark's fault that Lex had misread, or stepped too far too early. He just wished he could go back and erase that mortifying moment.
More worrying even than his personal foolhardiness was the thought that he might have frightened Clark away with it. Mature beyond his years or not, Clark was still young and inexperienced, and having your first lover throw his adulation in your face on only the second occasion you engaged in physical copulation with him was, Lex imagined, rather jarring.
As if that hadn't been enough, Lex had come two ticks from saying it all over again, more clearly and more emphatically, and with a question at the end, just piling the pressure on. Thank god he'd come to his senses just in time as the frozen, wide-eyed face before him finally registered in his cerebral cortex. Though, if asked, Lex would have had to admit that it had been a pretty crappy save.
He sighed again and turned on his side to face his window. It was true what he'd said: he was exhausted. The sun was hours from setting, but his weighted eyelids paid it no heed.
Shaking his head at himself one last time, he gave in to sleep.
*
Clark staggered more than he walked along the narrow dirt path that connected his house to Lex's.
There blew a sweet breeze that dried the last of his sweat away with cool, billowy breaths. The sweat must have been from excitement, not exertion, because though Clark felt drained after sex, it was, of course, not physically difficult for him.
The thing he felt most of all was his lightheadedness. It wasn't just the afterglow, either.
Lex loved him. Clark loved Lex with all his heart, and Lex loved him back. That and the mind-expanding simultaneous orgasm they'd shared was just too much for one guy to take in.
It was, in fact, so much too much that Clark never thought in his travel home to school his features and protect his new and wonderful secret.
When he opened the door and was greeted with broken off conversation, gawking, and raised eyebrows, it confused him for a moment. Then he remembered what he must look like.
Because, quite frankly, he must have looked like what he'd felt like: That he'd just had his brains screwed out. His parents seemed to be picking up on it.
Clark stood in the jamb, screen door open behind him for what amounted to far too long a pause before he tried to affect casual coolness and stepped the rest of the way into the kitchen.
There was silence, and it was strained.
"Clark," his father asked slowly, "what... happened to you?"
Martha continued to gape.
Panic was trying desperately to take up residence in Clark's legs and run him far, far away from his parents' deeply inquisitive faces. With considerable difficulty, he kept it solidified in his gut and remembered to breathe.
They didn't know anything. He might look suspicious, but he knew quite certainly that his parents' first thoughts were not going to be of the randy gay sex variety. He could control this.
"Nothing," he muttered, and crossed nonchalantly to the fridge. He looked around, grabbed a Coke, and made sure to crack it open and drink slowly, though he wanted to down the whole thing in a few big gulps.
Determined not to run straight to his room, which would only fuel their suspicions even more, he sat down at the island with them and feigned interest in the papers in front of his mom. "What are you guys up to? Bills again?"
His mom looked down at them as if she hadn't known they were there. She made a dismissive sound and met his eyes again. "Are you okay, sweetie? You look so... dazed."
"Oh, I'm fine," he said cheerfully, and took another sip of his Coke.
Though he wasn't looking at his father directly, Clark could still see his eyes rapidly narrowing. "You're sure you're feeling all right?"
Clark shrugged, then nodded. "Yeah. Just runnin’." As he took another drink, he could hear both of them exhaling. There were only so many times he'd be able to use that excuse, he knew, but apparently the number wasn't up quite yet.
"Were you careful?" his dad asked immediately, and Clark assured him as always.
"Yeah," he said, guilt taking up its regular residence. "Nobody can see me."
His mom leaned forward as if she'd be gripping his hand if it wasn't so far away. "You've been doing that a lot lately, Clark. Is there something that's been bothering you? Some reason you feel so restless?"
He lifted and dropped a shoulder, then drank more soda. He didn't actually see them exchange a glance, but he felt it in the air.
"Is it something to do with school?" his dad asked carefully.
Clark shrugged again. "Um, you know, just looking forward to the summer, that's all."
The corner of his dad's mouth twitched up. "Really excited to get to work on that new fence, are you?"
Clark snorted. "Yeah, Dad," he said sarcastically. "That's definitely it."
He got to his feet to the sound of a duo of chuckles, and knew the danger was past. "I'm sweaty. I'm gonna go shower, okay?"
"Dinner in half an hour, young man," his mom threw up the stairs after him. "No marathons to-day."
"Okay, Mom!" he called back.
As soon as he knew he was out of sight, he all but fled to the bathroom, shutting it soundly behind him and leaning heavily back into it with a ragged sigh.
"Oh, my god!" he stage whispered into the room. "Idiot, Clark! You're an idiot!" He banged his head softly back against the door once for good measure, hoping it would sink in.
This was not the first time this had happened, and it could not keep happening. He and Lex were committed to staying a secret, and Clark had to do his part to make sure that's just what they were. He couldn't do that if he was walking in the door every other day, handing his parents a nice big fat clue.
He pushed off from the door, sighing and pulling his shirt over his head.
He needed to do something to make sure discovery was a bit slimmer of a possibility. Maybe even just something as simple as carrying a mirror with him and making sure he looked at himself before he walked in the door after returning from Lex's would do.
Just as he was thinking that, he happened to turn toward the bathroom mirror by chance, and got a good look at himself.
"Oh. Jeez."
His cheeks were still flushed in bright red patches, his hair was an absolute force ten disaster area, and if his lips were any plumper, he'd be Melanie Griffith.
Running?
He closed his eyes on himself in dismal disappointment, quickly shucked the rest of his clothes, and climbed into the shower.
* * * * * *
"I really don't think I can, you guys," Clark said apologetically.
Pete's head fell back melodramatically. "Aw, not again."
Chloe paused in her file search to fix Clark with a look that said she was tired of indulging him. "Come on, Clark, you're such a homebody anymore! I mean, you never do anything, you never get off the farm. Green Acres might be life for you, but there is a whole other world out here you don't have to move to Manhattan for, you know?"
"Seriously, man," Pete nodded. "The Old MacDonald routine is just that: Old. Like, the last six times we invited you to come party with us, you totally crapped out."
Clark said nothing at first, then saw suspicion settle into Pete's eyes, and he remembered that he'd never given a good excuse for why Pete had to cover for him that night. It wasn't hard to work out that his complaints now had a connection.
"I just, you know, I have a lot of work to do at home, that's all. I mean, you guys know how my dad gets when he feels the summer coming. Everything has to be fixed, everything has to be built..."
Chloe and Pete just stared at him. He closed his mouth and practically shuffled his feet in discomfort before Chloe walked closer and looked up at him seriously.
"Clark, you don't do farm work at night," she said, simply and plainly and without intonation.
Clark sighed. "No, you're right. I'm sorry if I've been neglecting you guys. You know you're my best friends in the world. I swear, I'll make the time."
"So you'll go?" Pete asked.
His shoulders tensed.
"Clark..." Chloe said, drawing it out.
He winced an apology. "Well, not this time, you guys, I—"
What else he said was drowned out by a duo of frustrated groans that finally ended with Pete finding a chair to fall into behind him, Chloe going back to her file search, and Lana walking through the door to the Torch looking timid.
"Did I come at a bad time?"
Chloe turned, holding the folder she was in open with two outstretched fingers. "Oh, hey, Lana. Not at all—we're just taking turns busting on the Kent. Did you need something?"
Clark's shoulders fell comically and he pulled a wry face.
Lana laughed. "Actually, I came to talk to Clark," she said, not taking her eyes off of him.
Chloe went back to her files with a muttered, "Yeah, good luck," and Clark smiled an invitation.
"What's up?" he asked, and slid his hands into his pockets.
She took a few steps closer. "I was just thinking, and then I saw you were in here so, uh..." she trailed off, watching him, and he smiled encouragingly for her to go on. She shrugged slightly. "Well, I was thinking that you and I should try to spend more time together over the summer," she offered softly, and a pinkish tinge showed up over her cheekbones.
"Over the summer?" Clark parroted.
"Yeah. With school and my responsibilities at the Talon, we never get a chance to hang out anymore." She hooked her thumbs into her belt loops and rocked slightly on her feet in an endearing way. "I miss my good friend, Clark."
Clark smiled softly, then opened his mouth long before he was ready to say something.
He was hoping—he was even planning—to spend his free time over the summer with Lex. Among his duties on the farm, to his friends (which he was apparently not keeping up with very well), to Smallville at large, and to school, he felt like he never got to see Lex often enough or for long enough at a time. Now he would have seven extra hours a day free to split between the more intensive work at home that came every summer, and Lex. He'd already vaguely agreed to find some of it to spend with Chloe and Pete. So he really didn't want to take on any other new responsibilities, and that included making another effort to spend more quality time than usual with a friend.
If that had been the only factor he'd had to think about, he never would have hesitated with a flimsy I'll try, or I'm going to be very busy at home. But there were a few other variables that were nagging at him.
His fear of being found out was getting more and more defined, and he wondered if spending more time with Lex over the summer, like he planned, wouldn't escalate the chances of his parents becoming wise to his dodges.
The other main variable that made itself apparent to him, even though it made him feel horribly guilty, was that the entire town knew what a torch he'd carried for Lana for so long. Everyone knew about their many false starts, non-dates, and reevaluations of their relationship.
Shame stabbed him hard in the gut as he realized that what he was thinking as he stood there, hesitating with his response, could be easily summed up in one sentence:
Lana would make a really great cover.
"I think that's a good idea," he said finally, swallowing down his conscience. "You're right. We hardly ever get a chance to hang out anymore. It'll be fun."
Lana smiled big and sweet, making her nose crinkle slightly, and she nodded. "Definitely," she said, and watched as he nodded once with surety, as if closing the deal.
"I'll come to the Talon one night this week. We can talk about it? You know, I mean, our schedules. Uh, my workload on the farm always increases at direct proportion to the mercury in the thermometer, it seems."
She laughed, and Chloe either laughed or scoffed and closed her filing cabinet loudly. Clark glanced over, then back to Lana as Chloe walked behind them to her desk.
"All right, then. I'll see you."
Clark raised an open hand in farewell. "See ya."
When she was gone, he turned and smiled widely at Chloe and Pete.
"Well, congratulations, Clark," Chloe drawled, then sat down and focussed solely on her monitor. "Looks like you might have one last chance with Lana after all."
His smile faltered, but he forced it back into place. Guilty or not, she was already thinking what he hoped everyone would. He had to take that as a good sign.
He shrugged a little to show indifference. "Chloe, she only said the same thing you guys did—that I'm not spending enough time with my friends. I'm gonna try to rectify it."
Pete eyed him. "She said the same thing we did?" He snorted, walked out behind the desk, hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, fluttered his eyelashes, tilted his hips out of alignment, and rocked on his feet. "Oh, Clark," he said in a ridiculous falsetto, "I miss my good friend. Can't you make time for me? Hint, hint, wink, wink," and he pushed his lips out in a girlish pout.
Chloe practically doubled over with laughter.
Clark backed up with a concerned look on his face. "Pete... you're kinda scarin' me."
Pete regained his normal stance and spread his arms as if to say Well? "I'm just saying, Clarkbar. You're not fooling anyone here."
"Honestly, Clark," Chloe chimed in, still chuckling. "Why can't you just admit that you're Lana-obsessed? It's not as if half the town doesn't have the same problem. At least you're doing something about it that doesn't involve kidnapping or cocooning."
Clark never could repress the shudder when he was reminded of what Greg had ultimately become.
He shrugged finally, and said nothing either way, because that's what he knew he would have done a year ago. At that time, he was considered largely unavailable, because even though he never truly had a real relationship going with Lana, everyone knew that was what he was waiting for. He wasn't sure if many girls would have approached him if that hadn't been the case, but he knew, at least, that hardly any did when that was the case.
Maybe it was time to fall back on the past.
*
Lex blatantly turned his back on his father and began to pour himself a scotch with visibly trembling fingers. This conversation was getting under his skin even more than usual.
"You say you want to be a success, Lex, but I don't see anything here that illustrates that desire. Where is your drive, son? Where's your ambition? Smallville seems to be softening your edges."
"You don't know my plans, Dad," Lex said to the scotch, then downed half of it. He was showing emotion too starkly, he knew, but it simply hadn't been the time for this. He wasn't prepared for an onslaught of parental disapproval and derision. The last he'd heard, his father was in Gotham City for a new proposal. "Things aren't always what they seem. Why don't you just sit back and wait to see what happens?"
"'Sit back and wait,'" Lionel spat back at him. "Is that your definition of good business sense, Lex? Have I taught you nothing?"
"'Knowledge is power,' Dad, you taught me that." He glanced back over his shoulder, able to see his father only out of the corner of his eye. "You don't know what I know. You have nothing with which to judge the decisions I have or haven't made. This is my venture here, and I'll deal with it as I see fit." He faced forward again, practically seething, but still careful not to move. If he did, he was sure he'd have no control over the volume of his body language.
There was a long pause behind him. Lex didn't think for a second that he had been left alone. He could still feel his father's calculating stare on his back.
"What else are you dealing with as you see fit, Lex?" he asked darkly, and Lex tensed in place, using all his will to not turn around.
"I don't know what you mean."
There was a frightening pause that told Lex his father was thinking. "What about this... Kent boy?"
"What does Clark have to do with any of this?" said too quickly, and with too much heat.
"Do you think I'm a fool, Lex?"
Lex was frozen, his eyes on the scotch decanter, trying and failing to think of something to say to shift the focus of this conversation.
"I find it blatantly obvious that a large portion of what is softening you in this town is directly related to that boy."
Lex scoffed, unrealistically. "That's ridiculous, Dad. My friendship with Clark has nothing to do with the business decisions I make."
"Doesn't it, indeed?" Lex could hear him stalking closer. "‘Friendship’? A little quaint, isn't it, Lex?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Lex said, his breath very nearly failing him.
"You can side-step me all you want, son. But nothing is going to change the fact that that boy is making you weak."
"No," Lex said, but even he could hear that he did, indeed, sound weak.
"Clark Kent will be your downfall," Lionel insisted, and moved closer. His hand was placed a breath away from Lex's on the cabinet top. "Listen to me, Lex. I'm your father, and I only want what's best for you. The Kents have no ambition, no vision. They live in a small world of small ideas and big, imaginary moralistic values."
"No."
"You don't want to become like them, son. But they want to make you just like them. Especially that boy."
"No!"
"Can't you see his influence, Lex? Can't you feel it? He wants to turn you to putty in his hands, to make you soft and compliant, to take away your ambition and your guile and make you like him."
"That's not true," Lex ground out, his fingertips digging painfully into the marble as his father's words dug under his flesh.
"It is in your best interest to keep your distance from him, Lex. Trust me. I am your father, and I can see what he's doing to you. He'll ruin you, son."
His father's fingers raised into the air slowly, leaving a streak of flesh-coloured blur behind them, and when they landed on Lex's own, it spurred him into action. Without thinking, he spun on his heel, screaming No! at the top of his lungs, and began to strike out toward his father's smug smirk.
But he never got there.
Big, strong hands captured his face between them, and with a tug, his direction was skewed away. All of the light seemed to seep out of the room as Clark was right there before him, kissing him hard and sweet and without warning, and Lex's legs weakened and buckled, bringing him to his knees before the two of them.
Clark kissed him until he was utterly defeated by his desires, both physical and emotional, and helpless as a baby, kneeling there on the floor with his head bowed. Then Clark stood up tall, smiled with nothing but sweetness, and backed away into the darkness.
Lex's eyes slammed closed. He whimpered. It was a pathetic sound.
He felt his father's breath on his ear even before he heard the dark hiss of words.
He renders you powerless.
*
Lex woke with a start and a gasp, and very nearly jerked violently away from Clark's breath tickling his ear.
He sighed and forced his body to relax. At least now he knew where that sensation had come from, though he couldn't imagine why his unconscious would turn such a close, comfortable feeling like that into something so insidious and bone-chilling.
After a moment of gathering his wits about him, Lex thought to look at the clock, and saw it was close enough to Clark's curfew that it was probably time to wake him.
He could barely make out Clark's outline in the darkness, couldn't see more than his shoulder rising and falling with each breath, and yet he couldn't look away.
Maybe Clark did make him powerless in some ways. Lex's love for him was strong and unyielding, even in the face of indifference. His desire was constant, his acceptance practically unconditional. Maybe all of that was some kind of weakness. But, then again, he supposed people didn't fall in love to gain power. People married for power, people mated for power, people conquered for power, people even raped for power, but they didn't fall in love for it.
Sometimes it was nice to know what weakness felt like... when it felt like this.
He reached out a steady hand and ran the back of his fingers over Clark's cheek. It was soft and slack, and the bone underneath jutted exquisitely into Lex's touch. Every sensation made his heart sing.
And he felt ridiculous.
He rolled his eyes at himself and tucked his hand back under his pillow. "Clark?" There was no movement, so he jostled Clark's thigh with a carefully placed knee. "Clark, it's time to wake up."
Clark moaned and pushed his face into his pillow.
"Clark," Lex said, drawing the vowel out.
He sighed and finally looked up. There was a pause which Lex decided he must have been using to open his eyes.
"It's not even daylight," he finally mumbled.
Lex laughed. "Thank god. Your parents would kill me. I think it's about time you got headed home."
The bed shook lightly as Clark sighed and rolled onto his back. His outline told Lex he was rubbing at his eyes. "Is it late?"
"You have time."
"Mm. I was having the weirdest dream," Clark murmured.
"Yeah?" Lex asked softly. "What about?"
Clark's hand came away from his eyes and he fell still. Lex could make out his eyelashes fluttering in silhouette as he became more awake, and his throat moving as he swallowed. "I think it was... sausages."
A beat passed in stunned silence, and then Lex snorted loudly and painfully before he managed to get his mouth open to laugh as heartily as he had to. He rolled onto his back, covering his eyes with his hands and shaking his head at the very thought of it.
"Sausages? My god, Clark," he finally said when he had slightly more control of himself. "I think it's official that you're ‘not exactly straight.’"
"They were big sausages, too," Clark said through a grin, and leaned up on his elbow to hover over Lex's still shaking form. "Polish ones or something."
"Oh, Jesus!" Lex sat up and pushed him playfully away as he moved to sit on the edge of his bed. He squinted and flicked the light on, still chuckling. "Polish sausages," he muttered under his breath, and shook his head.
Clark laughed quietly behind him. It was followed by a gurgling sound.
Lex paused, then slowly and wryly turned to eye him.
Clark was sitting up with his hand over his stomach and a sheepish look on his face. "You caught me. I'm not really a big pervert, I'm just starving."
Lex let a beat go by before responding. Then, with a meretricious use of eyebrow lift, "I'm somehow slightly disappointed."
Clark shrugged. "I swear I'm working on it."
Lex's stoic face failed him, and he gave back in to laughter as he worked his way to his feet. "Do you have time to eat before going home?"
Clark's eyes darted to his watch, then back to Lex stepping into clean underwear. "Sorry. I should go."
"That's all right, Clark," he said, and snapped the elastic into place. "I just don't want your parents calling and asking me why I let you go all night without eating."
Clark shrugged and slid up to the other edge of the bed, looking around for his clothes. "Maybe I could tell them I ran into Lana and we got to talking."
Lex set his jaw.
"I mean, if I'm really going to do this... cover thing, I might as well get started."
Lex opened his mouth to say something, then just sighed sharply, but nearly silently, and pulled an undershirt over his head. A few seconds went by quietly before the movement on the bed stopped, and Lex got the distinct impression he was being watched.
He looked over his shoulder and had his suspicions confirmed. "What?"
Clark's hand flipped up on the mattress. "No opinion?"
"I didn't realize you were asking."
"I'm asking."
Lex tried out a small smile and stepped into slacks. "I think if you're going to use Lana as a cover, you should follow through with it. Meaning, don't say you were with her when you weren't. What if your mom should refer to one of your nonexistent meetings with her in her presence?"
Clark blinked, shifting his gaze to the horribly rumpled bed. "I hadn't thought about that."
Lex finished fastening his trousers and let his arms drop heavily to his sides. "Clark, you didn't honestly think this was going to work without putting the time in, did you?" he asked incredulously.
Clark's back was already turned as he reached again in his thus far unfruitful search for clothing, but his shrug was visible enough.
"Maybe you're not as committed to this as you think."
Clark spun around in a blur. "I am so committed to us! I'll do it!"
Lex held up his hands in defense. "Hey, hey! I didn't mean us! I meant this thing with Lana. Calm down." He softened his voice on the last, and crept back over to the bed, sitting onto it gently.
"Oh." Clark's tensed shoulders relaxed down into a slump. "Sorry, I..."
Lex reached out and laid a tentative hand on the back of Clark's neck. "It's all right. It's nice to hear that you're committed to us."
"I really am."
Lex cocked his head wryly. "Vociferously, I see."
Clark ducked his head, smiling, then turned to climb more fully onto the bed. With minimal encouragement, he had Lex doing the same, and they hugged one another, sitting chieftain style in the centre of the mattress.
"I know how important it is that no one find out about us, Lex," Clark murmured close to Lex's neck. "I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure we stay just as private as we want to."
A leading question sat on the end of Lex's tongue, reaching for the things Clark hadn't yet said, but he bit it back.
"I'm gonna try to make sure, too, that my spending time with her doesn't mess with our time at all. School's out in just a couple days, so I can just be seen with her when you're at work. It shouldn't affect us at all."
"Clark, are you..." Lex sighed against Clark's warm skin. "Are you planning on leading Lana on? Because that could end b—"
"No way!" Clark broke in, his head rising up quickly from Lex's shoulder. "We'll just hang as friends, like always. But when people ask, I'll keep conspicuously quiet, and they'll draw their own conclusions. You know how gossip is in this town."
Lex paused to search Clark's eyes. "But you won't act any differently with her directly?"
"No, not at all." Clark shrugged. "We'll just spend more time together. It'll divert people's attention. I think it'll work."
"And if Lana—"
"Lex..." Clark huffed, "jeez. I just decided to do it a few hours ago, okay? I'm not sure of all the details yet. Give me a few days."
Lex felt his lips tighten minutely and he gave a short nod. "Right." He moved to get off the bed, but Clark stopped him with a hand around his wrist.
"Don't get mad," he said softly. "I'm just not a planner like you. I'm more of a seat-of-my-pants kinda guy."
For a moment, Lex considered voicing some of his concerns, but in the end, he knew it wasn't his decision. So he turned to look down Clark's body, then back up, and smirked. "You're not wearing any pants."
Clark looked down at his naked lap. "Huh."
* * * * * *
* * * * * *
"Again?"
Clark shrugged and grabbed another plate to dry. "Well, you know: Summer. New games are coming out left and right. We can barely keep up with the releases."
Martha and Jonathan shared a look that was just short of a mutual eye-rolling.
"Well, I'm glad to see you and Pete have stayed such good friends," Martha said sincerely. "When you told him, I think we were all pretty worried about how he was going to take it. But he's turned out to be a very responsible young man."
Clark felt his face heating as he stared hard at the dish in his hands. "Yeah. He's a good friend."
There was a tense silence that Clark knew from experience meant he was about to get the answer to his original question. Then his dad cleared his throat and did not disappoint him.
"Well, then, I guess it'll be all right if you stay over there again. It isn't as if it's a school night, after all."
Clark glanced up, feeling his smile wide on his face, and nodded a thanks at his dad.
He tried not to think about his mother watching him sweetly, completely ignorant of his lies.
*
"Again?"
"Pete, I'm sorry, I really am. But I can't talk to my folks about this. Otherwise, I swear, I wouldn't ask you."
Pete shook his head, his lips pursed, and his irritation showing through.
"Pete, seriously, I'll owe you one, man. I mean, something big, okay? But this is really important to me."
Pete sighed. "Clark, man, I'd feel a lot better about doing this if you'd just drop me a hint over here."
Sour guilt stabbed Clark in the gut. He inclined his head and dropped his eyes. "I can't. I'm sorry."
"A hand signal? A song lyric? Morse code, man? Anything?"
Clark laughed softly as Pete's tone became more and more joking with each suggestion, but he only shook his head in answer.
Pete's arms rose and dropped with a slap. "All right," he finally acceded with a sigh. "I'll cover for you, Clarkbar. Again."
Clark felt his elation flood into his eyes and smile. "Pete, you have no idea how much—"
"You owe me, man," he cut in, pointing at the centre of Clark's chest. "Big. Okay?"
Clark nodded as seriously as he could manage, just barely controlled himself from wrapping Pete in a much-deserved bearhug, and sped off to his secret overnight destination.
*
It was such an incredibly pleasant feeling when they knew they had the entire evening to while away. They could watch stupid flicks and play pool and talk about everything and nothing and lie together for hours and have a proper meal together like any other couple and fall asleep together and not have to set an alarm or be scared awake every few minutes, worrying.
Then there was the best part, the part that Clark was looking forward to with more fondness than even any of these other things: Waking up in Lex's arms in the morning.
Not to take anything away from this part: Sitting together sipping after-dinner cappuccinos on what Clark had long since designated their couch in Lex's den.
Lex had talked about his day—his week, really—and was now listening to Clark talk about his own. It was nice to be able to take their time talking, and not have to rush straight to the bedroom, conscious of every minute ticking by and trying to squeeze everything out of it they could.
"—with Lana three times this week. She keeps asking me over to her house—well, her and Chloe's house—but I keep talking her into meeting in public places. Eventually, though, I'm gonna have to see her, you know, alone, just so she doesn't think I'm being weird. But, you know, it's not so bad. She's not really acting much different or anything, and it's nice to be her friend again. The whole thing's working great, anyway. Even my parents think we're kind of dating."
"Which you kind of are."
Clark laughed and took a sip of his drink. "Technically. Yeah."
A small, strange smile sat on Lex's lips, and it made Clark feel somehow bashful. He ducked his head and busied himself with yet another sip of his cappuccino.
"You still care about her. Don't you?"
Clark blinked in surprise and raised his head. "Lana?" he asked, though he knew that was who Lex was talking about. He paused a moment, letting his eyes shift while he thought about it. "Well, it's like, getting to spend time with her again has... kind of reminded me how much I used to cherish her friendship. It's not that we ever started hating one another or something like that, we just sort of... grew apart. You know?"
Lex nodded, his head in his hand, and his elbow propped up on the back of the sofa.
"I kind of thought that with her and Chloe living together, spending more time with Lana would mean I'd get to spend more time with Chloe, too, but it hasn't really worked that way. I guess Chloe's busy with her summer plans. I remember her saying she was planning on trying some freelance writing."
"How's that going?"
"I don't know. We don't really talk much. Which probably means it's going really well."
"Do you think she might be jealous of you and... Lana?"
For a split second, Clark wondered about the pause in Lex's voice, as if he couldn't remember what Lana's name was, but he just let it pass. "I don't think so," he said. "Chloe and I decided it would be best if we just stayed friends a long time ago. I think she's just busy."
"What about Pete?"
Clark quirked an eyebrow and let a beat pass. "Pete and I decided to just be friends, too."
Lex broke out into sudden surprised laughter that tickled right into Clark and made him join in. "What I mean," Lex insisted, kicking playfully at the side of Clark's leg, "is do you think Pete is jealous over the amount of time you're spending with Lana this summer?"
"No. Pete's just—" He broke off and felt his eyes widen. He'd very nearly explained just exactly what his and Pete's current problem was, but that was going to lead to questions about why Pete would cover for him without knowing what he was covering up, and what he might think he was covering up, and... Clark just didn't want to get into any more lies with Lex than he absolutely had to.
With a movement he knew wasn't too smooth, he turned away and shrugged as if it didn't matter. "No. He's not. We still hang out pretty often."
"Sounds like it's all under control, then. Good." Lex drained the last of his cappuccino, which encouraged Clark to do the same.
As soon as he turned to put his empty cup down, he knew he was being stalked, and glanced back up with a smirk to find Lex advancing on him with a predatory gleam in his eye.
*
Clark quietly gasped his way awake, not knowing why.
Lex was securely in his arms, and limp. His breath was deep and regular, his lips slightly parted and showing a small gleam of teeth between them in the scant moonlight.
Without even considering trying to stop himself, Clark x-rayed through his chest to see his heart beating there, slow and steady, and his lungs expanding and deflating in a soothing rhythm. Sometimes he wondered how Lex would feel to know that his lover was looking at his insides on a regular basis, but more often, he just didn't let himself think about that.
Keeping focussed, he let his gaze travel slowly and with studious attention to detail up over Lex's jawbone and the sharpness of his cheekbones until he reached the eye sockets. Then he backed it up just the smallest bit, tweaked his vision so that he saw through instead of in x-ray, and could see Lex's eyes rapidly and periodically darting around under their lids in REM sleep.
Clark wished he could use his vision to see into the dreams and learn what Lex experienced as he slept—maybe learn if Clark was part of them. But for now, all he could do was be secure in the fact that whatever Lex was dreaming about, it appeared not to distress him.
He slipped easily back into full x-ray and let his gaze drop back to Lex's chest. "Lex? Are you awake?" he whispered. There was no change in the heartbeat. He hadn't expected there to be one, but felt particularly over-cautious.
He'd never made confessions to a sleeping person before.
Clark allowed his eyes to relax into normal vision, and he moved a little closer to Lex on the pillow. There was very little light, but he was easily able to make out that he was only inches from the shell of Lex's ear.
"Lex?" he whispered so quietly he almost couldn't hear himself. "I wish I could tell you... that I love you. I wish I could tell you everything. I just don't want to hurt you. Can you understand?"
He paused and turned to let out a long, quiet breath. Even though Lex couldn't hear him, it felt good to say it out loud. His arms wound more fully around Lex's lax body and he tried to shift his leg, only just then realizing that it was captured in between Lex's thighs. He smiled at that.
"I'm a lot different than you think," he went on, but he was speaking more to himself than to the sleeping Lex now. The words barely passed his throat, and probably no one could have made them out. "I'm no meteor freak, I'm... I'm not even human. I think if I told you that, it'd really hurt you. I think it'd change everything about how you think of me, and how you feel about us. I think... I think it would break our connection for you. I don't want that to ever happen."
He sighed again and pressed his face into the soft part of Lex's shoulder, muttering already indecipherable words there. "But I just can't bring myself to tell you I love you and then keep lying to you. And I can't bring myself to tell you the truth about me." He scoffed against Lex's warm skin. "God, I can't believe I've backed myself into this stupid corner... But don't worry," he muttered, and kissed Lex's neck softly. "I'll think of something."
He pressed his cheek more fully into the pillow and tilted his head upwards so that he wouldn't breathe right into Lex's ear as he slept. His eyes closed on the mild relief of a pseudo-confession.
"I always do."
* * * * * *
"Saturday night?"
Lex glanced up at the terrified tone, and found Clark standing stock still, head pointed down, and looking up at him from under his lashes. Lex's gut tightened at the sex inherent in the vision, but it was obvious Clark wasn't flirting. "Something wrong with Saturday night?"
"Um..." Clark stood up straight finally and came just short of actually wringing his hands. "I kind of... made plans," he offered, extremely apologetic.
Lex felt his brow tighten in confusion. Why was Clark acting as if that was such a big deal? It often happened that their plans wouldn't go through because of Clark's other responsibilities. Lex had to beg off his share, as well. It shouldn't cause so much distress.
"That's all right, Clark. I know your parents have first dibs." He offered a playful grin, but Clark only looked away.
"Lex, it's not..." He sighed and walked around the model of Troy separating them. "Do you remember me telling you that people were starting to act suspicious sometimes? You know, about where all my time goes?"
"Sure. Clark, if you think it would be too soon—"
"No, that's not it. I'm—Do you remember me telling you how Lana was saying that we should spend more time together this summer, and how I've kind of been going along with it when you had to work anyway, since, you know, maybe it would offer a good excuse of why I wasn't around as much as usual? Sort of... divert people's attention?"
Lex felt his smile fall off very suddenly, and he tried to get just a piece of it back so it wasn't such an extreme. Of course he remembered it. And Lex was no fool: He knew what Clark bringing it up here and now meant. "So you made a date with Lana. For Saturday night."
Clark spread his hands helplessly. "I'm so sorry, Lex, I had no idea you were going to want to do something. Especially something so cool! You know how much I'd love to go to the Metropolis Planetarium with you. It's one of the few things my parents might actually let us do out of town together." He dropped his arms and sighed heavily. "But I can't back out on Lana in order to spend the night with you. I mean, there's no way that isn't going to look completely odd. People know we're best friends, Lex, but no guy blows off the girl he's trying to get with to hang out and look at the stars with his best friend. I mean... maybe if Lana and I had been thought of as a couple for a while, abandonment in favour of a night out with the guys would look more natural, but we—"
Lex laughed and held his hands up to stave off Clark's onslaught of explanation. "Okay, okay! Easy, Clark, it's not the end of the world." He dropped his arms back to his sides, still smiling. "You're right, you shouldn't back out. It's a good cover." He gestured flippantly away with a chuckle. "Go! Go on your ‘date’ with Lana. That's perfectly all right. The Planetarium will be there next week and the week after."
Clark's shoulders fell. "Yeah, but the Cosmic Collisions Space Show won't be. Saturday's the last night."
Lex waved him off. "That's my fault, Clark. I should have asked earlier. Look, it'll come back around, or something better will. We'll go another time. It's important you keep up appearances with Lana. We both know that."
Clark nodded, looking downtrodden.
Lex's smile was being ruthlessly tugged at, but he refused to let it fall again. If they didn't want people to know about them—and they most certainly didn't—then they both had to accept the consequences of that. That included fake dates and fake girlfriends and real lies.
But it probably would have been just a little easier to smile if the beard Clark had chosen hadn't been the same girl he'd chased single-mindedly for most of the time Lex had known him.
"Don't look so miserable," Lex said, achieving a cheerful tone. "The summer's just starting. We've plenty of time."
Clark sighed heavily and nodded, finally meeting Lex's eyes. "I know. I'm just... I wasn't looking forward to this to begin with. Now I really don't want to do it."
Lex hesitated for just a moment, but in the end, he decided to come out with it. "Clark, have you given any thought to just what exactly Lana might be... expecting from you?"
Nothing moved but Clark's eyes as he looked quickly down, paused, then met Lex's gaze again with intensity and knowledge.
Lex nodded slowly. "And...?"
"And... I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. When she said she wanted to hang out more, she didn't say anything about dating for real. She even referred to us being ‘good friends.’ So... it's just two friends hanging out on a Saturday night, that's all. I'll let everyone else draw their own conclusions. I know what they'll all think." He shrugged. "It'll be helpful."
"For us. What about for Lana?"
Clark sighed. "...Bridges, Lex."
Lex hummed, and chewed at the inside of his cheek. He had a lot more to say on the subject, but it was Clark's scam and Clark's decision, and Lex didn't really need to know.
He decided to change the subject. "Why don't we take a dip in the pool?" he asked, pushing up his sleeves. "It's already stifling in here."
Clark's face lit up and he was pulling his shirt over his head before Lex could say another word.
* * * * * *
Somehow, he'd thought it was going to be different.
They'd been hanging out in public together ever since she'd suggested it and he'd agreed. Though their relationship hadn't really changed except for seeing one another more often, the talk he picked up now and then implied that people thought it had, or a least was about to.
But the ‘hanging out’ they'd done had always been random, and made of chance meetings—‘chance’ inasmuch as Clark knew where to seek Lana out (at work) and took up a conscious effort to do it much more often (when Lex was at work). They'd never actually planned a date until to-night.
He'd shown up at Lana's door, and found himself immensely relieved to be greeted by Chloe. Lana wasn't quite ready yet, she'd explained, then asked why he looked so pale.
When she'd come down the stairs, she'd looked beautiful as always, but instead of just wanting to admire her, he wanted to run. He didn't want her to look particularly beautiful. He wanted her to look like she'd just come off work and wasn't putting too much effort into their ‘date.’
But aside from all of his internal panicking, and some initial awkwardness until they got into the truck, things had been going swimmingly. That is to say, Lana wasn't acting any different from usual.
They were, amazingly enough, even in their usual meeting spot: The Talon. Lana had surprisingly suggested it herself, both for coffee, and because she had new schedules to hand out, but hadn't had time to drive back and do so just yet.
They were sitting comfortably together in a booth, both occupying the same side, not because they were being couple-ish, but because they'd been joined for a few minutes by people from school who had recently vacated their side (people, incidentally, who never would have bothered talking to Clark during the school year even if he was sitting with Lana, but who, for some reason, became artificially friendlier during the short summer months that school was out), and neither Clark nor Lana had bothered to move yet.
There was a comfortable lull in the conversation, and Clark was beginning to remember again what it was like to spend time in Lana's presence. He had to admit to himself that since the awkwardness level seemed to be staying low, he was rather enjoying it.
He glanced over at her out of the corner of his eye. She was gripping her coffee cup tight in her hands, and she leaned over it, and shivered minutely.
Clark quickly tried to judge the temperature of the room, but, as usual, failed miserably. He couldn't really detect ten degrees of difference one way or the other, so could only clandestinely watch others and try to mimic their reactions to their surroundings.
"Cold?" Or ask.
She nodded and hummed a response, then thanked him as he took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. "That thermostat is crazy," she said with a shiver, and scooted closer to him. "The air conditioning guy's been in to look at it three times, and he says it's perfectly fine. My opinion: He's crazy, too."
Clark smiled, and put an arm over her as she cuddled into his side for warmth. "Oh, sure, that's what you say. But I know the squalid truth," he said knowingly, and nodded.
She looked up at him quizzically.
He leaned closer to her and stage whispered, "You figure if you freeze your customers, they'll have to order more coffee, and that means more money in the till. I'm onto you, Miss Lang. Your dirty secret is out." He quirked an eyebrow up, and, after a disbelieving pause, she giggled just loudly enough that he didn't notice the door chime.
*
Lex had made a horrible mistake. He was sure of it.
He should have voiced his discomfort in the beginning—should have made his opinion clear the very first chance he'd had.
Not Lana. Anyone but Lana. Please.
He forced his feet to move. It wouldn't do to stand in front of the door gawking at a couple of lovebirds all night. He approached the counter, ordered something without thinking about it, and struggled not to look back in Clark and Lana's direction.
Admittedly, it had mildly annoyed him to hear about it, and even to listen to Clark talk about it as it developed. But it had somehow seemed much less real and much easier to accept without comment before the image of Clark cuddling with Lana Lang in a public booth slapped him brazenly across the face.
If he'd known Clark was going to bring her here—here! Where she worked, where she was almost every day, where they hung out with their friends, not some place new, some place special—if Lex had known that, then he never would have come. If he'd been given an opportunity to think about it, he would have quickly accepted that he didn't want to see them together. Ever.
His coffee took a century to be ready, and he would have turned and walked right out the door without it if it hadn't been an utterly odd thing to do. He stood there trying not to tap his foot and wishing desperately for his cell phone to ring and give him an excuse to hurry away.
By the time the coffee was ready and he'd paid for it, he had absolutely no interest in it, but took it just the same. He turned toward his right for the door, in the direction that would keep his back to the sight he was trying to avoid, and left the establishment at the briskest acceptable pace.
Once in the comparable security of his car, he found himself sitting there oscillating between two opinions. The first, that he was an idiot and had no reason to feel this way because he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Lana was a cover, as Clark had plainly stated. The second, that he was an idiot and had every reason to feel this way because there was no need for Clark to get so appalling close to Lana when any respectable couple would sit across from one another in a public booth.
Though he refused to admit it to himself at the time, he was, indeed, destined to spend the entire night oscillating in this manner. It made for a very unrestful evening.
* * * * * *
Lex stood by the dark fireplace, brooding, and watched Clark approach him, smiling. He allowed the corner of his mouth to turn up just enough that he wouldn't look stern. Clark reached him and offered a warm hug, which Lex allowed, but didn't fully participate in.
"Have fun last night?" He tried to ask flippantly, but his tone was just a little flatter than he would have liked.
Clark didn't seem to notice. He pulled back, rolling his eyes, and moaned melodramatically. "Oh, god! You should have seen me. I was so miserable. I was practically dragging my feet all the way to Chloe's place—well, their place. I think I must have driven, like, five miles an hour the whole way."
Lex struggled not to cross his arms over his chest. "That bad, huh?"
"Well, I thought it was gonna be. And I couldn't stop thinking about the planetarium! I just kept thinking, ‘I'm missing that for this?’ Anyway," he shrugged, and sat down in the nearest chair. "Once we got started, it really wasn't so bad at all. I expected this big change or something, but it was just like, you know, hanging out with a friend. We talked about what our friends are doing over the summer—the people who got to go away, I mean—and what we're looking forward to for our junior year, that kind of thing. It really wasn't bad."
Clark fixed him with a bright smile, and Lex felt his teeth grind. "Where'd you take her?" he asked casually.
"Oh, the Talon. Uh—just for coffee. Then we went for dinner to that new Italian place—" he cut himself off and searched Lex's face. "Hey, Lex, are you okay? You look tense."
Suddenly, Lex's shoulder blades slid down his back, taking his tension with them.
He was being ridiculous. He'd known about this, and Clark was sharing everything about it with him. He wasn't hiding or lying to Lex. He was doing just exactly what they had decided to do. He was following through with their plan. He was even doing it for them. Lex had no right or reason to feel this way.
"I'm okay. Rough night."
"Jeez," Clark leaned forward, looking concerned. "Is it anything you wanna talk about?"
Lex shook his head, finally leaving his spot and sliding with a sigh into the chair beside Clark. "Just missing you," he said with a rakish smile.
Clark blushed and rolled his eyes. "Hey, I am sorry about that clash, you know. From now on, I'll check with you before I make any plans with Lana. You know, just do this thing with her when you're busy anyway. Okay?"
Lex leaned forward, elbows on knees, and shook his head seriously. "Clark, that wouldn't work. Lana will ask you to do things spur of the moment and you can't exactly tell her you'll check your schedule and get back to her. I'll just try to make sure to bring things up as soon as I know about them instead of waiting, and the rest will sort itself out. It isn't as if I don't have business engagements that might take me suddenly away from our time. You have the right to an outside life, too."
Clark shrugged. "Well, it's not really an ‘outside life,’ Lex. I'm doing this for us."
Lex smiled, knowing his fondness was in his eyes. Clark smiled back and lowered his lashes, flirting shamelessly. Lex's pants tightened.
"I've been letting you get away with that for far too long, you know," he said, reaching out to brush Clark's hair aside. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss on his bare forehead before letting the bangs fall back into place.
Clark looked at him in confusion. "With what?"
Lex chuckled softly. "Flirting," he said plainly. "You are a shameless flirt."
Clark gaped at him. "I don't flirt!" He paused, and his eyes shifted. "Flirt with who?"
Lex's head dropped an inch in incredulity. "With me, Clark. You just did it. You do it all the time."
"I do not! ...What do I do?"
"You—" Lex broke off and shook his head, laughing. "Oh, Clark. It doesn't matter. It would figure you're not even aware of it." With a soft snort, he got to his feet, muttering just loudly enough for Clark to hear, "Innocent farm boy..."
As expected, he hadn't made it three steps before Clark's arms were wrapping around him and his hips were pressing an ostentatious bulge tightly against Lex's backside.
"I'll show you innocent," Clark murmured, and nipped the vulnerable strip of skin behind his ear.
"Oh, by all means."
*
Clark walked in the door—with acceptable hair, almost undetectable sex smell, and no flush in his cheeks above the normal pink glow he never could get rid of—to find his Dad checking his watch.
Jonathan raised his eyebrows. "You were over there for three hours, Clark. You missed dinner."
Clark's eyes widened. "But I told Mom I wouldn't—"
"I know, I know," his dad interrupted, "you told your mother. She told me." Jonathan stood there, hands on hips, and continued to eye his son.
Clark felt himself blanch and his heart speed up. "Is there something wrong?"
"Clark, sit down."
Oh, no, Clark thought, and forced himself to sit in the chair that was pointed out to him.
His dad cleared his throat and let a pause of frightening length go by before he began. "Clark... son... look, I... I know that you say Lex Luthor is a friend of yours, and I know that you don't like my opinion of him. But I don't mind telling you that I'm getting a little concerned about how much time you've been spending over there since school let out."
"But, Dad," Clark protested, spreading his hands, "it's summer. I mean, it's not like I'm skipping out on my chores or anything. Everything's done. I even—"
Jonathan held up a quieting hand. "I know that. I'm not talking about that now. I'm talking about your... association with Lex."
Clark was frozen stiff for a moment that he knew went on too long, but that he couldn't break no matter how he tried. "What about," he asked finally, "my ‘association’... with Lex?"
Jonathan sighed and sat back in his chair. "We've tried to have this discussion before, and we just end up yelling at one another, so let's try to avoid that this time. All right?"
Clark slowly nodded, and clasped his hands on the table.
"Lex, though I can admit he's done some good for this town, is a bit of a loose cannon. Now, take this expansion that's supposed to be coming—"
"Dad, that's all hearsay. Nobody really knows what's going on with it."
"Well, that's just what I mean. If you're Lex's ‘good friend,’ then why don't you know what's going on? I can understand keeping quiet for the press until all the details are in place, but why hide from his good buddy, Clark Kent?"
Clark sighed heavily in irritation and sat back into his chair with a thunk. "I haven't asked him about the stupid expansion! I don't care about the stupid expansion. I'm his friend, Dad. What his job is doesn't matter to me."
"Well, it should, Clark. What if he fired half his workforce, moved operations to Mexico for cheaper labor, and then all your friends’ parents were out of jobs? Or what if he decided to acquire more land, and bought out struggling farms in the area—maybe even bought this house right out from under us? Wouldn't his job have some bearing on your friendship with him then?"
Clark felt his brow knitting together in perplexity. "Dad, what are you even talking about? Lex wouldn't do any of those things."
It was Jonathan's turn to sigh, and Clark watched him carefully.
"Dad?" he prompted. "Is there something you know that I don't?"
He spread his hands. "As you said, Clark, it's just hearsay—rumors. But I'd hate to see you brought down emotionally—or publicly because of people's opinions—if one of them turns out to be true."
With a definitive shake of head, Clark rose from his chair, and pushed it in. "No. Lex wouldn't do that kind of stuff. He's ambitious, but he wouldn't just randomly ruin lives. And I don't care what ‘people’ say. He's my friend. The people who talk about him like this... they don't know him."
Clark held his father's eyes for a long, telling beat, but he didn't push the point any farther home.
When he saw the recognition he was waiting for in his father's eyes—that he didn't know Lex—Clark turned, and headed up to his room.
* * * * * *
* * * * * *
Pete shook his head sternly. "No way, man. I'm done. That's it."
"Pete, please—"
"No. Way!" He leaned back into his kitchen's countertop, crossing his arms over his chest. "This'll be the fifth time, man! What the hell is going on with you? Clark, I am not gonna keep covering for you every time you ask, without question, unless you tell me what's up. I shouldn't've done it this many times, man!"
"Pete, I swear, I'm not doing anything bad."
"Then why can't you tell me what it is?"
Clark sighed and backed up a few steps until he was leaning against the opposite counter. "I'm sorry, Pete. I just can't."
"Then I can't, either, Clark. Look, you're my best friend. And you know that I have no problems about keeping your secret to myself. I understand how important that is. But, lately, Clarkbar, I don't know what's going on with you. I thought maybe if I covered for you a couple of times, whatever it was would blow over, or you'd decide I could be trusted with the truth. But that's not going to happen, is it? You'll just keep asking me to lie for you without any information until I get my fill of it. Well, I've got my fill of it."
"Pete, please," Clark gripped the countertop behind him with noticeable firmness. "It isn't that I don't think you can be trusted with the truth, it really isn't. It's just... look, I'm not the only person affected by... what's going on. So I can't just out and tell you everything. It's not my decision."
Pete shrugged. "Can't you tell me just enough that I can get an idea? I mean, I'd like to know that I'm not covering for you so you can run to Metropolis and rob a bank or something."
Clark's shoulders slumped. "Pete... please tell me you know I would never do something like that."
Pete spread his arms and raised his voice. "How the hell would I know, Clark? You don't tell me anything!"
"I swear, it's nothing like that!"
"Then what is it like?" His hands fell to his sides with a dull slap. "Is it Lana, man? Is it something to do with her? Are you guys, you know—"
"No!" Clark sighed heavily out his nose. "It's not... I'm sorry, Pete. I'm sorry I can't tell you."
"Well, I'm sorry I can't help you out, Clarkbar."
Clark swallowed noticeably and nodded his defeat at the floor. "I understand. Your point's valid. I'd probably feel the same if I was in your shoes," he muttered. With another heavy sigh, he pushed his way to his feet and smiled sadly. "Look, um... I won't ask you again, Pete. You're a good friend. I appreciate what you've done for me, and the fact that you're worried about me. All I can say is... you really don't need to worry."
Before Pete thought of anything to say back, Clark turned and headed around the corner for the door.
Pete's shoes squeaked on the floor as he stuttered in place to follow before Clark was gone. He got there just in time, as Clark was stepping across the threshold.
"Hold on, man!" he said, and gripped Clark's shoulder hard.
Clark turned with an expectant look on his face.
A vile mixture of guilt and anger rose in Pete's throat as he realized Clark was hoping he was about to change his mind. He bit it back and sighed sharply. "Well, what are you gonna do, Clark? Go find someone else to cover for you?"
Clark swallowed and seemed to look far away for a moment before his gaze found its way back to Pete's face. "I don't think I can, so... I'll just have to make a few other changes." A tiny, sad smile showed up for a brief moment. "Thanks, Pete. Really," he said, then finished walking through the door and closed it behind him.
Pete watched through the window as Clark trudged down the driveway, looked around quickly, then disappeared in a burst of speed.
He sighed and turned to press his back against the door. It hadn't gone like he was hoping it would. He'd had this whole vision set up of how Clark would be so desperate for Pete to continue covering for whatever it was that he'd come totally clean just to keep the little ritual going. He wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad sign that Clark was so concerned about keeping this particular secret, he'd given up his only possible cover in order to continue to protect it—even from his best friend—even from the one guy who knew the truth about his origins.
What could be so big, so important, so private as all that, and yet, as Clark said, ‘not anything bad’?
*
Lex moaned low in his chest at the sight of Clark's head moving between his thighs.
"Mmm, I like the way you taste," Clark whispered, hot breath tickling across Lex's skin.
Lex breathed Clark's name. His hips titled up, brushing his stiff cock wantonly against Clark's cheekbone.
Clark only half took the hint, stroking it with his hand, but continuing to lick only the skin all around it, making Lex's groin shiny and slick with saliva.
Lex wanted to complain that Clark's wet mouth would be better put to use where his hand was, but he kept quiet, letting Clark explore as he wanted. In a few seconds, he had occasion to be very glad he'd made that decision, as Clark's blatantly searching tongue found its way underneath his balls.
He groaned loudly and pushed his head back into the pillow. Legs spreading ever farther, he tugged gently at one of them until he was allowed to pull it out from under Clark's arm and hook it over his broad shoulder instead.
As tentative flicks of wet, agile tongue tickled the sensitive strip of skin between anus and scrotum, Lex sneaked a hand down his own body to lift his balls up and give Clark some room to work. After a slight pause, the shoulder under his leg became slightly less tense and Clark's tongue, quite a bit firmer.
With a quiet, happy hum, Clark slid his left arm under Lex's right leg, still trapped underneath Clark's body, and hooked it over his shoulder as well. His hand trailed softly over a hip to stroke Lex's erection at a slightly awkward angle.
Lex's regularly pumping hips encouraged longer, stronger strokes of tongue. It was around the time that the sensations on that sensitive spot had just begun to feel muted that Clark finally gave him a taste of what he wanted.
He sucked air harshly through his teeth as the tip of Clark's tongue dragged over his hole. Then Clark paused altogether, hand still, tongue apparently back in his mouth.
As the silence stretched on, Lex considered saying something to soothe. But he finally let his body do the talking. He tilted his hips up and spread his thighs apart the smallest bit farther, presenting his entrance to Clark's swollen lips.
Moist breath puffed over him in an unsteady exhale as Clark began to breathe again. The hand on his erection took its stroking back up, and Clark leaned in closer, and pressed the flat of his tongue against the hole. Lex hissed, arched further, and whispered Clark's name.
It took a lot of tentative licking, encouraging sounds of pleasure, and not-so-subtle hip tilts—in short, it took many minutes—before Clark was secure enough to finally chance pushing his tongue inside.
At the first sweet sensation of breach, Lex planted his feet on the mattress on either side of Clark's ribs. He took his cock from Clark's hand so he'd have another tool to work with. Then, on what seemed to be instinct, the free palm, soft and damp, went straight to Lex's ass to mirror the other one's gentle spreading of his cheeks. With the way easier to access, Clark's tongue pressed deeper into him, wiggling slipperily the whole way.
Lex carefully controlled his stroking of his cock to be slow and not too stimulating. "Clark, that's perfect," he panted. "Don't stop."
Palms still flat against the globes of Lex's ass, Clark's thumbs slid up along his crease and spread him wide at just the right place, and the tongue pressing inside Lex's body sought as deeply as it could go.
"Ah!" Lex cried out and unconsciously sped up his hand, best effort gone to waste.
His feet left the bed and pressed hard into Clark's ribs, squeezing them tight as he tensed up in anticipation. He looked down as best he could, but found only glimpses of Clark's eyes, softly closed, beyond his dark hair damp on his forehead.
Lex's head fell back to the pillow with a dull thump. Groaning, he pressed down with his spine, forcing himself tight against Clark's face. His hand sped up enough that it became audible.
"Can you do it any faster?" Lex ground out, then shouted when Clark's wet, pointed, stabbing tongue did just that. "Jesus, that's—Clark, I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come, okay?"
He didn't wait for an answer, just arched his back hard while Clark licked into him over and over again, then grunted loudly and with heat as the first thick stream shot its way out of his swollen cock and stained his skin.
Clark's wet tongue continued to stretch him throughout, pumping into him with a rhythm that matched the electric pulsing in the base of his cock until finally, spent, Lex collapsed, wrenching himself away from Clark's mouth, and let his legs lay heavy and useless on Clark's back.
He hadn't yet gotten his breath back when he opened his eyes to find Clark hovering over him, looking pained. With an almost numb hand, Lex reached clumsily down to find Clark's shaft hard, straining, and slicked with precum. Then, without a word, he led it toward his relaxed hole, and started pushing the head into himself.
"Don't you want—?"
"Shh, Clark."
He pulled his shaking legs back to his chest and pumped up until Clark bore down on him, burying himself slowly but fully.
A relieved exhale puffed over Lex's forehead. Clark stayed where he was for a while, buried deeply, and busied himself with laying light kisses all over Lex's face and neck.
Lex's eyes fell three quarters closed in satiation as he waited silently for Clark to be ready to move. Then when the first thrust came, it was just as he wasn't expecting it, and his eyes flew open, and he gasped.
"Okay?"
"Keep moving."
Clark pumped slow, full strokes in and out of him at a torturous pace, watching him all the while with an expression that Lex found utterly perplexing: It was that same damn one that kept trying to fool him into thinking it was love.
Lex's legs were trembling, and he wrapped his arms under them, trying to keep them still. But Clark's hands slid along his thighs and quickly took up the job for him, leaving Lex's hands free to roam Clark's shoulders, his arms, his chest.
The longer that expression bore into him, the more he wanted to say something he shouldn't, and with his back teeth he bit harshly down onto the tip of his tongue to avoid it.
Clark's length was thick and real inside him, the lack of artificial lubrication and sensitivity from orgasm making him feel it all the more. He concentrated on that sensation, on being full up, on having the connection. It only made the desire to say what he shouldn't say ever so much worse.
In near panic that he would lose control of his voice, he lifted his head quickly from the pillow and ground his lips against Clark's. Clark made a small, startled sound before pressing into the kiss, letting Lex rest his head again.
Clark tasted of more than just himself, and Lex felt his spent cock stir on his stomach. He shifted his hips, and Clark, perhaps sensing some discomfort, removed his splayed hands from under Lex's knees, and pressed his strong, thickly muscled biceps against them instead. One hand slid over Lex's hip while the other cradled his face, tilting his head for a fuller, deeper kiss.
Lex's hip grew warm where Clark was touching him, and a line seemed to sear across to his groin, which was growing rapidly warmer as well. He became hypersensitive inside and broke their kiss with a gasp when he felt a new electric pressure on Clark's next gentle thrust.
His body bent in half, he reached up over Clark's back and dug his nails deeply into the skin for purchase. Clark's thrusts never hitched. Nor had Lex expected they would have.
"Clark, your cock is perfect," he murmured into Clark's ear, and rolled the lobe between his teeth.
Clark moaned quietly and kept moving.
"You've got me filled up to about bursting, do you know that?"
"I'm not hurting you?" he asked, sounding strained.
Lex shook his head against Clark's neck. "Never. You're giving me exactly what I want." He took a moment to catch his breath and nipped at Clark's shoulder in the interim. "Now, listen to me. Because I want you to do it a little faster—a little harder," he went on hotly into Clark's ear. "I want to feel it, Clark... I want to feel it in the morning."
Clark's response, if there truly was one, was strangled, but his hips did speed up.
Lex pulled himself closer by the grip he had, and soon he could see over Clark's shoulder and down his tensed back, watching his ass squeeze rhythmically as he buried himself over and over into Lex's body.
"Ah, Clark," Lex panted, and sucked on the flesh under his mouth.
Clark's face was hidden against Lex's neck, and growing hot and damp with sweat there as his breath grew ever louder. "Lex," he choked out. His hands were pressed into the mattress on either side of Lex's ribcage, and Lex felt the sheet under him grow taut as Clark must have been bunching it up in his fists.
"Fuck me harder, Clark," Lex growled into his ear, and Clark might have sobbed. "You gonna come? Fuck me hard and let me hear you say my name when you come."
The sound that came out of Clark's throat was neither word nor moan, and his hips began to snap instead of thrust as he slammed into Lex's body over and over, making the bed shake and groan.
"Oh god," he breathed against Lex's skin.
Lex tilted his hips up the smallest bit more he could, and took everything Clark pounded into him. "Say it, Clark. Say it..."
"Oh god. Oh—" A sharp, punishing thrust in, and Clark screamed, "Lex!" loud enough to make his ears ring.
The sheet under Lex's back ripped in two, and Clark's entire form went stiff above him for several unreasonably long seconds before he crashed down, heavy and limp.
Lex grunted quietly with the weight, but supported him with determination until Clark was ready to move.
Clark panted, loud and fast, by Lex's ear, and Lex turned his head to kiss whatever damp skin was close enough. When Clark's heavy hand started creeping its way down Lex's body toward his half-erect cock, he grasped it at the wrist and softly said, "No."
Clark inhaled, and paused as if wanting to say something, then gave in and let Lex take his hand back up beside them.
"Am I too heavy?" he asked quietly after a while.
Lex pressed another kiss behind Clark's ear in non-answer.
Clark let out a soft breath, and reached quickly down to steady himself as he slipped out. Lex grunted as Clark rolled off of him and onto his back instead. He lay there staring heavy-lidded at the ceiling.
Lex took a moment to get his wits about himself, and to stretch his legs out.
When his feet had begun to tingle with new blood, he leaned up, reached behind himself, and pulled the ruined sheet out from under his back. He held it up by the apex of the rip, letting the two pieces dangle pathetically. He watched it a few seconds for effect, then turned to Clark with a wry look on his face.
Clark wasn't watching.
"Clark," Lex said casually.
Clark grunted.
"Do you intend to explain this?"
Clark grunted again, but this one had a question mark on the end of it. With obvious difficulty, he turned his head to see what Lex was talking about. When his gaze landed on the sheet—and after the few seconds it took his afterglow-addled brain to realize what it was—he gasped and sat up quickly on his forearms. "Oh, god, did I do that?" he exclaimed.
Lex laughed finally, and tossed the useless fabric over the side of the bed. "I would have had them washed, you know," he teased. "There was no need to destroy the evidence."
"I didn't even realize..." Clark still wasn't smiling, his eyes wide and frightened, his head shaking minutely.
Lex rolled his eyes and laughed a little more. "Clark, don't look so horrified. You're not the first guy in history to rip the bed sheets," he said, and climbed over Clark's thigh to settle between his legs and peer fondly down at him.
Innocent eyes, extra bright green with emotion, looked back at him. "I'm... not?"
Lex shook his head and bent down to kiss Clark's swollen, parted lips. "I'm just teasing you," he murmured, kissed him once more, and laid his cheek down onto Clark's chest to listen as his heartbeat came down.
"Oh."
Heavy arms crawled over Lex's back and more laid there atop him than actually held him. Several quiet minutes passed, and Lex's eyelids were becoming weighted.
"Don't let me fall asleep," Clark murmured over his head.
Lex's eyes snapped open. "You had better go now, then. Because you tired me out, too."
Clark chuckled lazily, his chest vibrating under Lex's cheek. "And here I thought it was you who tired me out."
"An understandable misconception."
Clark chuckled again, then lifted his head from the pillow as if he was seriously considering going somewhere. It fell back down and he sighed quietly. "Can't move."
"That seems to be going around," Lex quipped. He took a deep breath and forced himself off Clark's body and back to his damp—and now cold—spot. He pushed weakly at Clark's shoulder with the back of his wrist. "Go on. Before you really do fall asleep."
Clark's head lifted and dropped again, and he made a droning sound. "This isn't fair. We should have sex in my bed sometimes so I can fall asleep and you have to get home."
Lex snorted. "I'll take it under advisement." He pushed at Clark's shoulder harder. "Now go."
With a pathetic grunt, Clark rolled, not off the bed, but back on top of Lex, and kissed him deep, sweet, and thorough.
They were both growing hard again by the time Clark pulled back, smiled with bright eyes, and finally popped off the bed with newfound energy.
"Sorry I can't stay."
Lex lazily leaned up on his elbow, head resting on his hand, and watched Clark put his clothes back on. "That's all right, Clark," he said, careful not to show his disappointment. "Maybe to-morrow night."
Clark winced and zipped up at the same time, and Lex raised an eyebrow.
"I can't to-morrow night, either."
The eyebrow came down along with the smile. "Busy?" he asked casually.
Clark sighed, pulling his undershirt over his head. "I made a... thing. With Lana."
"A ‘thing’?" Lex droned. "Which would be—what? A custard? A model airplane? A small fortune?"
Clark snorted and rolled his eyes. "A date," he finally said.
"Ah." Lex fell onto his back again. He waited a long beat to see if Clark would suggest it, and when that didn't happen, seriously considered keeping quiet about it. He busied himself looking at his cuticles—which were perfect because he'd had a manicure yesterday, and so didn't offer much to keep him occupied—while Clark finished getting dressed.
"Do you know where my shoes are?" Clark asked.
"You could still stay over after your date with Lana," Lex answered. He clenched his jaw in the silence that followed, then waved a hand toward the other corner of the room. "They're over there."
"Thanks. I can't do that, Lex," Clark said, walking around to get his boots. "My parents know about our ‘date,’ and they're going to want all the details, and if I don't come home, it's going to look like me and Lana... well."
Lex sat up on his forearms and shrugged. "That'd be good for us, wouldn't it?"
Clark gaped while he stumbled into his left shoe. "Lex, my parents would kill me. And besides that, they'd ask Lana, and she'd tell them the truth—that she didn't know where I was."
Lex nodded and decided to stop prodding into to-morrow night's options. "What about Wednesday?"
Clark was kneeling down, tying his shoe, and he finished with a sigh, staying in the same position.
Lex waited a long moment before speaking again. "Clark?"
Clark worked his way wearily to his feet and crossed to sit on the edge of the bed, never meeting Lex's eyes. "Lex, I'm... I'm really sorry," he said sincerely. "But I don't think I'm going to be able to stay over anymore."
Lex chewed at the inside of his cheek to hold back his annoyance. He'd had a feeling that was what Clark had been leading up to. "Afraid of people getting... suspicious?" he asked blandly.
Clark shook his head. "It's... more practical than that. I—" He broke off and sighed heavily, finally turning to meet Lex's gaze. "Lex, I lost my cover. I can't stay over anymore because I don't have an excuse anymore."
"So get a new one," Lex suggested with a shrug.
Clark turned his hands up. "Like what?"
"Well, I don't know. What was the one you had?"
Clark stared at him for a very long time. Lex let his face remain placid, knowing that Clark was trying to decide whether he should tell him or not. But Lex blinked and discovered that placidity was not the required expression.
"It doesn't matter," Clark muttered, looking away. "It was the only one I could have, and now I don't have it." He met Lex's eyes again, a pleading expression on his face. "I'm really sorry, Lex. You know I want to stay."
Lex tried out a small, acceptant smile and nod. "Sure, Clark. That's all right."
"It's just—"
"It's all right, Clark," he insisted, and covered Clark's nearest hand with his own. "We both knew we'd have to make sacrifices if we wanted things the way they are. I guess this is one of them."
"It's still the summer," Clark offered with a smile. "What better thing to do than take a nap together on a lazy summer afternoon?"
Lex smiled. It was at least nice to know that Clark understood why Lex wanted him to stay. "I'll have to take you up on that."
"Please do," Clark quipped, and laid one more sweet kiss on his lips before heading toward the door.
Lex was smiling at his back when he got there, waiting for the last look Clark always threw him before leaving. But it began to falter a little as Clark just stood there with the doorknob in his hand.
"Clark? You all right?"
Clark's shoulders lifted and dropped. "I was just wondering if..." His head fell forward, and Lex watched the back of his neck get red. "Is there a name for that?" he whispered.
Lex sat up more fully, feeling utterly perplexed. "I'm sorry?"
Clark looked toward his left so that Lex was able to see one side of his bright red face, but Clark still wasn't looking at him. "That... thing I did. To you. Before..."
Lex felt his groin pulse at the reminder and he swallowed while he waited for Clark to ask again.
"Is it... Is it called something?"
Lex cleared his throat and tried to contain his smirk. "Rimming," he said clearly. "Anilingus, anilinction, or anilinctus, if you want to get technical." He watched in perverse delight as Clark turned a new shade of pink with each word.
"I, um... I think I'll stick with the first one."
"When you discuss it with...?"
Clark bit his bottom lip and laughed softly. "Good point." He opened the door finally and tossed a shy smile Lex's way as he backed out of the room. "Good night, Lex."
"Night, Clark."
The door closed with finality and Lex sighed long and heavy.
The afterglow was fading, and his amusement at Clark's unworldly question only took him so far.
It was plenty early enough to get out of bed and go about his business, but he felt too exhausted to bother. And yet, he knew lying there that he wasn't going to sleep very well.
Because it hurt. It hurt like hell.
It hurt not just to not have Clark there with him this one night, but also to know that he wouldn't have Clark there with him for any night in the foreseeable future. It hurt that Clark didn't seem to try very hard to think of a new night cover since he'd apparently lost his first, and yet work so very hard to keep his day ‘cover’—Lana—which Lex was seriously starting to question them needing at all.
But what hurt most of all was how Clark had weighed the loyalty in Lex's eyes and decided, quite certainly and quite quickly, that he shouldn't trust Lex with the truth.
Whatever that truth was didn't matter. It could be connected in some way to Clark's other secrets or not. It could be a betrayal to Lex or not. It didn't matter. What mattered was that Clark had looked Lex in the eye and decided he couldn't trust him.
Maybe that had been the unkindest cut of all.
Lex still found occasion to wonder, shifting about on the bed to find a warm, dry place to lay himself, if, as the empty nights wore on without anything to break the monotony, he might decide that the temporary relief of his perpetual loneliness was of greater import than his truly painful desire to be trusted.
Yet he knew, brood as he might, that only time and circumstance would give him an answer.
* * * * * *
* * * * * *
Interlude
Time did not as yet seem to be a friend. Clark had not seen fit to find a new cover for the occasional night, and Lex had not allowed himself to be pathetic enough to mention it again.
Weeks had gone by, and the only things Lex ever woke up to find himself holding were his pillow and his dick.
The worst part was that rationally, he felt he might have been being unfair. Clark's daily life was monitored closely by his parents, and while Lex could leave the mansion for a night or two without telling anyone where he could be reached, Clark couldn't leave home for more than a couple of hours before he needed to check in. Lex understood that Clark had his own responsibilities and might not be available at times, but this particular issue bugged him enough that he dared admit it aloud for two reasons.
The first being that it was a step back: Something they'd had that they'd now lost, and that was not a pleasant feeling. The second being that Clark had still not deigned to tell him what wonderful cover he'd had that he no longer did, which tended to breed both feelings of resentment and of suspicion. It was on more than one occasion that Lex caught himself wondering, ‘Does Clark really have no cover at all, or is his saying that simply a cover in itself of the fact that for whatever reason, he doesn't want to be here?’
He'd snap himself out of this reverie quite quickly—as soon as he realized he'd fallen into it—but it happened often enough to leave a small bruise on his psyche that was easily irritated.
One such irritation, which seemed to be growing larger with every passing day, shared his initials and, apparently, his significant other.
It was a difficult thing for Lex to admit that he'd ever prefer to see Clark miserable than see him happy, but when it came to this particular instance, it was the truth. The more ‘dates’ Clark planned with Lana, the better they seemed to go, and the more he seemed to want to recount them. While Lana was ‘just a cover,’ it was also ‘nice to be friends again’ and ‘fun spending time together.’
Was he honestly jealous?
Hell yes.
Clark could be with Lana in the open, invite her to have dinner with his parents, bring her around his friends, park with her at Crater Lake in broad daylight if he wanted to, and no one would sneer at him (with the possible exception of other disappointed would-be suitors).
But about the only thing Clark and Lex could do in public was casually bump elbows at one place or another—by chance—say Hello, and How are you? and go on their separate ways.
Admitting jealousy, however real, or however misplaced, was another issue altogether. It was just something that Lex did not do...
* * * * * *
Clark walked down the hall, smiling, flowers in hand, and looked forward to watching Lex's eyes light up when he saw them.
He felt a flush rush up his face when he passed the wide-eyed, ponytailed girl—Marcia—and she lowered her gaze to avoid looking at him. In one way, he was glad she was still working there, because that meant Lex really could handle his staff like he'd said, and Clark had nothing to worry about regarding her knowing about them. But in another way, he kind of wished she had quit, because it was embarrassing passing her in the hall all the time. Most of Lex's staff must have known about them, but none of the rest of them had actually seen them standing together outside Lex's bedroom right after having sex for the first time.
He shook his head quickly once she was past, willing the blood out of his cheeks. Lex wasn't expecting him, so Clark didn't head for the den. He made his way straight to Lex's office and swung the doors open like he used to do, huge smile on his face.
The same huge smile was shot off as Lex and Mr. Luthor looked up from their meeting to see what the commotion was about.
Clark's hand twitched around the flowers. He wanted to hide them behind his back, but logically realized what a stupid move that would be. So he simply stood there. Gaping.
"Uh..."
"Hey, Clark."
"Mr. Kent." Lionel adjusted on his chair, twisting farther around to get a better look. "What have you there?"
Clark continued to gape.
Lex's smile—Lex's cool, composed smile—grew just a bit. He slipped his hands into his pockets and stood his ground. "Are those the flowers you got for Lana?"
"Yeah!" Clark said it even before Lex was finished saying her name, recognizing the out immediately. "Uh... yeah," he said more softly, and looked down at them. "I just, um, you know..." He met Lex's eyes and slowly pieced together a sentence that hopefully made just the slightest bit of sense. "I just w-wanted to show them to... you, and... uh... see. You know. If you. Um. If you thought they were, you know, all right."
Lionel shifted in his seat, looking perplexed, then slid his gaze back to his son.
Lex looked at the flowers, nodding slowly. "Well, they seem, uh... perfect, Clark," he said smoothly. "She'll swoon."
"Oh." Clark swallowed against a dry throat. "Oh, well, good. Uh—great!"
Lex just kept nodding, then gestured toward him as if telling him to take his flowers and go. "Why don't you, uh, go ahead and give them to her now? And, if you like, come back in about—" he glanced down at his father, "—an hour?"
Lionel nodded carefully, his gaze flicking back and forth between the two of them. "That should suffice."
Lex smiled at Clark again. "So come back in an hour—assuming, of course, that she'll let you go—and we'll talk about how it went. All right?"
Clark nodded dumbly. "Okay. Yeah. I'll just—" he hooked a thumb back toward the doors, "—I'll just, uh, go give them to her now. Instead of waiting. Till later. Like I—yeah. I'll go give ’em to her now."
Lex continued to smile at him indulgently. "Okay."
"Okay. Thanks, Lex. For your help. With the—" he twitched his wrist, shaking the flowers. "Bye."
With that, he turned on his heel, walked out the doors, around the corner, and collapsed against a wall, trying not to pant too loudly.
He heard Lex laugh quietly from his office. "Young love," he said, and Lionel chuckled along with him.
They were making fun of him together, which made Clark blush with hot embarrassment. But then he remembered that really, Lex and Clark were making fun of Lionel—that Lionel was the one being fooled. Hopefully.
Mild relief settling through him, he beat a hasty retreat.
*
It was almost exactly one hour later that Lex looked up to the sound of Clark reentering his office.
Lex greeted him with a wide smile, intending to crack a joke about it taking two tries just to deliver some flowers. But it became painted on when he found Clark's hands empty.
After what he knew was an unacceptable amount of time, he finally shifted his gaze from Clark's hands to his face. "Hey, Clark," he said, hearing mild confusion in his own voice.
"Hey," Clark whispered, looking apologetic already. He closed the doors behind him and shuffled a few steps farther into the room. "I thought... your dad might..." He gestured vaguely with his hands, underscoring their emptiness.
Lex stayed confused for about two seconds longer before it settled in what had happened to the flowers Clark had ‘gotten for Lana.’
He'd given them to Lana.
Lex shrugged it off fluidly, betraying nothing. "That's all right, Clark. Who needs flowers?" he said with a chuckle. "They just die anyway," he muttered, and pushed out of his chair, fake smile still in place.
Clark opened his arms in helplessness, then closed them again, looking uncomfortable. "I thought about just getting more, but if your dad came back and saw them..."
Lex walked up to him and paused to slap his shoulder gently. "No big deal. Bad timing, that's all," he said, and stood where he was, hands in his pockets, waiting for Clark to change the subject.
Clark just continued to stand there looking contrite.
With a quick intake of breath, Lex finally went back to his desk to concentrate his gaze on the computer while he talked. "How did she like them, anyway?"
He saw Clark shrug out of the corner of his eye. "Just like you said she would."
"That's good, Clark. For your cover, I mean."
"There is that," he muttered. Then, after a pause, "I see you're still working. Should I go?"
Lex very nearly said yes. He was seconds from it. But he managed to just purse his lips slightly and shake his head at the monitor.
Clark slowly walked over to him, and Lex turned his head, but not his eyes, as if he simply couldn't bear to look away from the graphs on the screen.
Then, to his surprise, Clark descended to his knees with a sigh, crossed his arms on the armrest of Lex's chair, and rested his chin on his forearm. Lex pulled his elbow to his side to avoid bumping Clark's cheek with it, and looked down at him with a quirked eyebrow.
"You know they were for you."
"Did I say otherwise?"
Clark shrugged one-sided and unfolded his left arm so he could trail his fingers over Lex's clothed shoulder. It was light and ticklish and Lex shivered internally.
"How'd it go with your dad?"
"Fine. Business stuff. It's," he shook his head minutely and shrugged, "boring."
The caress on his arm grew slightly firmer, and trailed up to his neck. Lex felt his eyes grow heavy lidded.
"Has he been gone long?"
"Not really."
Clark's fingers smoothed over the line of his jaw; his thumb traced Lex's bottom lip. Lex kissed it softly, and the hand slipped down to his chest, fingertips dancing over the hollow of his throat.
"Clark," Lex breathed.
Clark smiled. He rose up on his knees and pressed a soft, warm kiss onto his lips, tasting like an apology Lex knew he shouldn't really have to give. Clark hadn't technically done anything wrong. But Lex could still plainly feel anger and jealousy curling around in his stomach like sour milk.
He made their kiss slightly rougher, delving his tongue deeply into Clark's mouth before he angled his chin away and pressed their foreheads together instead.
Clark's fingers were playing with the top button of his silk shirt, and Lex could feel his heart speeding up underneath it. The touch was light and sweet, and Lex wanted to grab the hand in his own, squeeze it as tightly as he could, and remind Clark who he belonged to.
But he didn't. Because he wasn't sure anymore who Clark did belong to.
"I want you," Lex whispered, brushing the words over Clark's lips.
A small smile played about the corners of Clark's mouth. "I'm right here," he said quietly.
"Good..." Clark's shirt was bunched up in Lex's fist. "Because I want you right here."
There was just enough time for the surprise to reach Clark's eyes before he was on his back on the floor, Lex sprawled atop him and kissing him madly. He was still for a moment before it must have registered that Lex was tugging his clothes off, and he started to reciprocate.
Clark's hands fumbled with the clasp of Lex's slacks as Lex shoved Clark's shirt up to his chest, and wrenched his jeans and briefs down his hips, freeing his rapidly hardening cock. That was as far as Lex took it before moving just slightly away and quickly baring himself from the waist down, shoes going in two different directions, slacks and underwear coming off together and going inside out with the socks stuck inside them. When he saw Clark trying to push his own jeans down the rest of the way, Lex stilled him with a tight, possessive hand on his wrist.
Before a question could even be asked of him, Lex fell forward more than lowered himself down, and slobbered all over Clark's flushed cock more than sucked on it. He took not a single moment to prepare himself, just straddled Clark's hips, lifted the tails of his own still buttoned shirt, and impaled himself.
Clark gasped loudly, and shot up to a forty-five degree angle. "Lex!" he cried.
Lex dug his fingers into the soft parts of Clark's shoulders, knowing he was incapable of hurting him, and not caring if Clark thought he was trying to.
He brought himself up fully on his knees, then back down hard, and started to rock roughly. Clark's shaft pulsed inside him and swelled further as he ground down on it, forcing the pressure he wanted against his own prostate. Clark's neck arched. He made small sounds and an obvious effort to try to kiss Lex's lips, but Lex dodged him and stooped to bite down hard on the top of his chest.
Clark cried out again, and twisted upward toward Lex's mouth. His ass rose from the floor, pushing him ever deeper into Lex as he suspended them both there on only his elbows and feet, his body acting as a hammock.
Lex ground into him harder, and let himself rise a little farther each time before he dropped back down, taking Clark's entire length into himself again and again, deeper and deepest. He trailed bites everywhere he could reach: Chest, throat, neck, ear, and finally gave in to Clark's mouth, biting fiercely at his lips as Clark tried desperately to kiss him and to moan at the same time.
Clark collapsed finally onto his back, but his hips stayed in the air, balancing Lex on them, and he squeezed a harsh caress on the outside of Lex's thighs. When a hand dared to trail across and try to take Lex's leaking erection into it, Lex grabbed both his wrists and slammed Clark's arms to the floor beside his head.
He hovered an inch from Clark's face, still riding him hard, and dared him silently to show how easy it would be to pull away. But Clark did no such thing. He lay there, seemingly imprisoned, rocking and twisting and moaning Lex's name until some magic number was reached and his head flew back and his eyes squeezed closed and he came with a violent shout.
Lex pulled off of him while Clark's cock was still spurting, and shuffled up to straddle his chest. His knees came down sharply into relaxed biceps, and he jerked himself roughly off only inches from Clark's lips. He watched as Clark's eyes opened, and, looking dazed, he became slowly aware of what Lex was doing. He made a strangled sound and opened his mouth wide.
Lex grunted, squeezed himself tight, and shoved half his length past Clark's wet, red lips. One soft suck, one swirl of tongue around him, and Lex was coming strong and hot, hips bucking and pressing him tight against Clark's palate, then pulling him suddenly back out to spatter semen recklessly.
He rolled away and onto his back on the carpet before the last wave was fully past. He lay there, almost making a T with Clark to the left of him, and panted roughly at the ceiling. His cock twitched several times on his belly, not yet ready to be left alone, but Lex merely waited it out.
He listened through the blood rushing in his ears as Clark slowly stopped making noises with each exhale.
"Wow," Clark finally said, after the room had been mostly silent for a while.
"Hm," Lex droned back.
"Are you," Clark panted, "mad at your... dad or somethin’?"
"Not any more than usual," Lex muttered, and ran a hand down his face to wipe the sweat away.
"Huh."
Clark took a deep breath like he was gearing up for something. Lex tensed, but it turned out only to be pulling his pants up and zipping them.
Lex would have done the same if he'd known where his pants were.
"Are there tissues?"
Lex tossed a lazy hand in the correct direction. "On the desk."
"Oh, good," Clark said wistfully. "Way up there."
With difficulty, Lex undid some buttons and tossed his shirt at Clark in lieu of the tissues that were ‘way up there.’
There was a silent beat as Clark apparently looked at it. "Lex," he said wryly, "I need tissues ’cause I have cum in my hair."
"I know."
Another quick pause before Clark gathered up the six hundred bucks worth of silk and used it as Lex had silently suggested. The buttons made a clatter when he tossed it away.
"Take your clothes off," Lex demanded.
"Huh?" Clark's voice was pitched high and concerned.
Lex swallowed down laughter. "Take your clothes off, come over here, and nap with me for a while."
"Oh," Clark said, sounding relieved. He grunted through the exertions of getting his clothes off and crawling over to where Lex was sprawled, then he collapsed beside him, face in Lex's shoulder, arm thrown haphazardly over his chest. "Was that—?"
"Go to sleep, Clark," Lex said, eyes already closed, mind already floating.
"...Okay."
Lex only knew Clark did because when he woke up half an hour later to turn onto his side, Clark was softly snoring.
* * * * * *
* * * * * *
"Lex Luthor."
"Hey, Lex."
Lex dropped the paper in his hand with sudden disregard, and let his smile stretch his face. "Clark. Didn't expect to hear from you until later."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Lex's smile crashed.
"You are... coming over later?"
Clark sighed.
Lex sighed.
"Lana... kind of..."
"And you couldn't get out of it. That's fine, Clark." Lex wasn't sure if he succeeded in keeping the venom out of his voice, but he gave it his best shot.
"I know it sucks. But it's just like you said: She kind of snuck it in spur-of-the-moment and I couldn't get out of it."
"Right," Lex muttered, then rushed ahead so that he wouldn't be taken as bitter, "Yes, I know what you mean. That's all right. All the better for our cover, right?"
Lex could practically hear Clark shrugging. "Yeah, I guess. ...You're not mad?" he asked this last in a leading tone that didn't truly welcome any answer that wasn't ‘no, of course not.’
"No, of course not," Lex obliged. He rolled his eyes and threw a hand in the air in helplessness. "We knew this was going to happen here and there. It's the price of secrecy." He felt like adding, ‘blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda,’ but refrained.
"Yeah... Well, I hate to bring the ax down and go, but I'm meeting Lana in an hour, and I still need to get ready."
Lex ground his teeth together as silently as he could. "I'll talk with you another time, then. Enjoy yourself."
"Will do. Bye!"
Lex pressed the phone to Off and squeezed it in his hand just as tightly as he could. It was well-built and didn't break, but that only frustrated him all the more.
This was the third meeting in a row Clark had broken because ‘something came up with Lana.’
Lex's back had already been piled dangerously high with straw. He wasn't so sure he could support this last piece.
*
"Chloe, don't watch them," Pete insisted, sounding mildly scandalized.
But when he saw she was going to peek out the window no matter what he said, he got wearily to his feet and walked up behind her. The truth was, he wanted to look, but was sure if he did, he wouldn't be able to keep it to himself later. Getting to tease Clark about Lana was always fun, but having to admit he'd spied to do it was somehow unappealing.
"Aw, he's opening the car door for her," Chloe said in a cute baby voice.
"Chloe, come on. You wouldn't like us spying on you coming home from a date."
Switching the drapery to her other hand, she waved violently at him to shush with her right. "Shh!"
Pete paused, scoffed, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why? You can't hear ’em."
"Oh, it's the principle of the thing!" she hissed, as if she truly believed they could hear her. "Let me have my undercover reconnaissance moment, will ya?"
Pete sighed, but resolved to keep quiet until she was done peeping. He was, in fact, about to turn and go back to the story they were working on when Chloe suddenly took a step back and let go of the drapes.
She was quiet for a second, and he stood there, itching to ask what she'd seen, or if they'd seen her, but embarrassed to admit he was interested after making such a stink about her watching in the first place.
But nearly a minute went by, and finally, he could no longer stand it. "Well?" he said, spreading his arms wide for effect, though she couldn't see him.
She lifted and dropped one shoulder, but didn't turn to him. "Standard after-date stuff," she said, trying—and failing—to affect cheerfulness.
Pete would have known that choked throat sound anywhere. He didn't miss her hand sneaking up to wipe at her cheek either.
Carefully, he walked around her, and though she tried to turn her face at first, she finally gave in with an eyeroll and let him see she was trying not to cry.
"Aw, Chloe," he breathed, heart constricting at the sight of her reddened face and eyes.
Her expression screwed up tighter for a second, and then she hid her face in her hands and growled with irritation. "I can't believe I'm being like this!" She swiped angrily at her tears and tried to smile up at him. "I pro—" she broke off, choked up, then tried again. "I promised myself I was over him, and I know they've been dating, and..." She sighed, shaking her head, and looking like she was berating herself inside.
Pete chanced a step closer and sighed with her. His hands fidgeted in front of him, wanting to wrap her up in a soothing hug. "Hey, Chloe... Clark's an idiot, you know? I mean, I'd choose you over Lana any day."
Chloe laughed and snorted at the same time, and fixed him with a look that said she knew he was just trying to make her feel better. "Thanks, Pete," she said, and wiped at her face some more. "But you don't have to say that."
Pete opened his arms in innocence. "I'm not just saying it!" he exclaimed. "I mean, come on, think about it. Sure, Lana's pretty, but so are you. And you're way smarter and more interesting than she is, and a hell of a lot more fun, too. I mean, she's always so sad and self-pitying, and you're always about energy and making the best of things, even if they don't look too good."
He stepped forward, took Chloe by the shoulders and said her name quietly until she looked up at him, red eyes and all. "Clark doesn't know what he's missing. Anybody'd be lucky to be chosen by you."
Chloe stared at him for a long, quiet beat, and he wasn't sure whether she was testing to see if he was sincere, or whether she was just letting the words sink in. But after that beat had passed, she both laughed and cried out a burst of relief, and pulled him into a close hug.
"God, Pete," she said, her smile in her voice. "You really are the best friend a girl ever had."
Pete sighed silently over her shoulder. "Yeah."
*
When she leaned in, Clark almost turned around to see what she was trying to get a better view of. When her eyes closed, he almost asked her if she'd gotten something in one of them. When her lips hit his, he was so stunned by his idiocy regarding the last two misconceptions, he didn't even move away.
It was when her lips parted to deepen the kiss that he was finally spurred into action.
Placing his hands carefully on her upper arms, he held her still and backed himself away. "Whoa," he said quietly. "Lana..."
Her lips still pursed, she opened her eyes and the heavy look of desire in them took a couple of seconds to fade to confusion, then embarrassment. "Oh. I'm... Oh."
Not quite certain that she would stay where she was, he took his hands carefully back. "Lana, I'm... I'm sorry, but I'm just not..."
Her shoulders, which had been pulled up tight in a frozen, startled position, suddenly dropped, and she smiled sheepishly. "Not ready," she finished for him, and tilted her head in concession. "I'm sorry, Clark. I didn't mean to pressure you."
He stuttered over what might have been words, then closed his mouth with a click. All he wanted was to tell the truth: That he'd never be ‘ready,’ that he wasn't trying to be ‘ready,’ and that he wished that she didn't want him to be ‘ready.’ But he kept silent. Because as guilty as he felt and as unfair as it might have been, all this truly meant was that things were going according to plan.
She shrugged, her cheeks rapidly darkening. "It's embarrassing," she muttered, and they both laughed uncomfortably.
Clark hooked a thumb over his shoulder, but offered a friendly smile. "Uh, I'm gonna..."
Lana nodded and quickly waved. "Okay."
"I'll see you later, okay?"
"Okay," she repeated, trying out a slightly wider smile.
He turned so as not to stumble on the steps, and looked back to offer one last wave before she closed the door.
When the outside light went out, he half jogged back to the truck, wiping a trembling hand over his lips. Inside, he felt some security and solace, but his hands only shook more.
He would have been the first to admit he'd been an idiot about this whole thing, but for some reason, he hadn't actually considered the possibility that Lana might try to kiss him.
And he couldn't even conceive of the possibility that he was going to have to start dodging it on a regular basis.
It took three tries to get the truck started, and he spun the tires a bit when he pulled out, but by the time he'd reached the main road, he had composed himself at least enough to stay on it.
*
Lex found no solace in The Room that night. Everywhere he looked, he felt he saw a reminder of what he'd gained and was now to lose.
After the last two hours spent in quiet, private contemplation, he'd come to epiphany.
He no longer needed to fool himself. Since this had started, each time he'd felt jealousy, he'd chastised himself, rationalized that he had no reason to feel this way because, as Clark said, Lana was ‘just a cover.’
But once he'd stopped cutting himself off at the pass, it hadn't taken much consideration to realize what was actually happening: Clark was growing surfeited with them and, at the same time, finding his old connection with and interest in Lana Lang. Lex wasn't sure which came first, or whether he should blame himself or Lana for his impending loss, but it was a pointless argument at this juncture anyway.
It was happening, Clark would never grow to love him, and it was now painfully obvious that even this physical affair of theirs was not going to last much longer. Now might have been the time for Lex to chuck it all in, sever the lines under his own power before he could be nicked as Clark cut him loose. Maybe he'd save himself just a modicum of heartache if he made that decision himself.
He was gazing up at Clark's portrait as he thought these thoughts, and, in time, found himself speaking aloud to it.
"I honestly think you use people without even realizing what you're doing," he said to it. "That's why you're so damn forgivable. You never know what you've done until it's shoved in your face, and then you're appropriately contrite. It almost makes us all feel sorry for you. Even more so than we feel for ourselves after you've done what you do."
The Clark in the picture did not change, and seemed to mock him with its quiescence.
He knew, of course, that talking to Clark's photograph was foolish. He should have been telling the real Clark how he felt, not just the representation of him. But he wasn't sure he wanted that confrontation.
Lex's own emotions confused the hell out of him. He didn't want it to be this way. He wanted to be bitter. He wanted to be able to say to himself ‘I don't want to feel like this about Clark anymore.’ Then he could have taken that singular desire and turned it into anger and cruelty and pushed Clark away.
But the truth was that—with a strange masochistic twist—he liked feeling this way. He liked loving something so much that it became practically unconditional. He wasn't sure he'd ever had that before—perhaps with his mother.
He liked knowing that he had something good within him that worked so well as to let him feel this way when he consciously knew that he wasn't getting the same in return. It was comforting to realize he was still capable of giving like that. It was satisfying to know that his father hadn't won him just yet.
He wondered if he was masochistic enough to let it go on knowing what he now admitted he knew.
If he had the strength to accept it and not change anything because of it, he could stay and soak up every last little bit he could get until Clark was ready to make the full change from Lex back to Lana. Then, when the cut came, Lex would be expecting it. Perhaps it would hurt no less, but at least he'd have a better grip on himself.
Would the memories he'd gain be worth the increase of pain the extra time would impart?
Did he really have to ask?
* * * * * *
"Hey, Clark," Lex approached him with a wide smile and a tight hug before he'd fully shut the door behind him.
"Hey," Clark said, sounding pleasantly startled. "You're in a good mood."
Lex leaned back and smiled into his eyes. "Some reason I shouldn't be?"
Clark shrugged sheepishly. "Um, well... I just meant you're in a good mood for someone who basically got stood up last night."
Lex waved it off, walking away before Clark was finished with his sentence. "Clark, that hardly matters. We can't have our cake and eat it, too. Like I said before: If we want things as they are, we have to be willing to make sacrifices."
He settled himself down on the sofa and patted the cushion beside him. "Come here and sit down with me."
Clark slowly walked around the back of the sofa and did as he was asked. He sat down next to Lex and offered a shaky smile.
"Don't look so scared," Lex said with a laugh.
Clark chuckled nervously and shrugged. "I just... thought you'd be mad, somehow. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."
Lex gestured at his bare feet. "No shoes, Clark," he said with a grin, and Clark seemed to relax a little. Lex was waiting for Clark to speak, and when it seemed obvious he didn't want to, he was looking for some subject to bring up.
That was when Clark sighed heavily, his shoulders slumped, and he said, "Ask me how it went last night."
Lex swallowed against the urge to say no. "How did it go last night?"
"Awful!" He flung himself back against the sofa, his hands going over his face.
Lex smiled, berated himself for being an asshole, smiled again, then schooled his features. "Hm. What happened?"
"She kissed me!"
Lex's entire body stiffened. He fought his urge to leap to his feet and shout that that was it. No more of this. No more of Lana, or no more of them, and Clark had to choose and do it right now.
He won the fight. But it was close.
"I see."
"Right on the lips, Lex, and I didn't even see it coming! You should have seen me: I was such a geek; it was so uncomfortable..." He huffed and dropped his hands back to his lap. "I don't know how I'm ever going to..." He sighed heavily again.
Lex wished Clark would finish that sentence. How he's ever going to what? Juggle the two relationships? Continue to pretend Lana was just a cover and that he didn't still want to be with her? Tell Lex how he really felt, and how he didn't?
But then Clark looked over at him, and Lex didn't need the last half of that sentence.
There was longing in Clark's green eyes, plain and simple, and Lex knew in an instant what it meant. His hope sank as low as it had ever been, and he shoved acceptance onto his face with a pure act of will.
"That's okay, Clark," he said, pushing the words through a tight throat he refused to betray. "You should let it happen."
Clark blinked. "I should?"
Lex reached across the short space that separated them, and laid his palm on Clark's knee. "It doesn't bother me," he said quietly. "I understand what's going on."
"You do?" with hope.
Lex nodded. "Yes. I do, Clark. And it's all right. You should let it happen."
Clark kept Lex's gaze for a beat, then looked away, as if considering, then back. He looked at Lex's hand on his knee. After a quick pause, he covered it up with his own, and met Lex's eyes again, all smiles and understanding. "Okay. Thanks, Lex."
"You're welcome, Clark. Now," he patted at Clark's knee once and got to his feet. "I am to understand you came over for lunch, is that correct?"
Clark's eyes lit up further at the mention of food, and Lex laughed.
"Well, I'd hate to disappoint you. Follow me."
He turned, allowing himself only a few quick seconds to lose and reset his smile as they headed to the solarium on the top floor where Lex had ordered their lunch laid out.
*
Dazed and satiated, Clark took his time walking back home.
He was only a quarter of the way there when he started rewinding his and Lex's conversations and going over them again in his head. When he really thought about it, he had to admit that he felt sort of bad that Lex had thought it was okay that Lana had kissed him. On the mouth.
Then later, over lunch, when Clark had sadly brought up his father's growing attention to detail regarding the time they spent together, and had said that he thought they might have to start shortening their meetings up for a little while, it was like Lex hadn't even blinked. He'd just said, If that's what you think, Clark. You know your own father better than anyone—except perhaps your mom—and if you think it's best we shorten our time together... we will.
It wasn't that he'd wanted Lex to get upset and rail and argue with him, it was just...
Clark shook his head quickly to clear it, then slower at his own silliness.
The truth was, Lex was more about plans and details and goals than Clark was. He was probably less affected by what was happening because he'd already thought of it all long ago, and so was prepared for it. Lex was right about both, anyway. The most important thing was that they stayed as secret and private as they wanted, even if they had to make sacrifices.
Clark just needed to suck it up and stop being such a baby. His dad couldn't watch him like a hawk forever, and as for Lana—it was just a little kiss! It wasn't as if she was asking Clark to take her virginity or something. She'd even apologized for moving too fast, and assumed that he ‘wasn't ready.’ He figured it should be easy to just keep running with that.
Clark should—and, he decided, from now on would—be more appreciative of Lex's understanding of his situation. He could have gotten all sullen and made Clark feel guilty by acting like Clark wasn't trying hard for them, or just didn't care, but he hadn't done that. Lex understood. He didn't have to have Clark spell it all out for him, he just accepted that these were the things they had to do if they were going to be the way they were.
With his differences, Clark wasn't really used to having someone understand so well the things he was having to go through. Once he got past his own initial foolishness, he realized he appreciated it.
* * * * * *
* * * * * *
Interlude
Lex's decision not to brood, but to be, if not satisfied, then at least grateful for what he and Clark had, worked perhaps better than he'd thought it would. The relationship, as it was, was even lasting longer than he had expected.
The next month of the summer went by with much the same rituals as the previous one. Clark came to see Lex a couple of times a week, they had mindblowing sex, and then Clark went home. Clark continued to date Lana and be seen with her in public, as Lex had both expected and suggested.
Lex avoided the elder Kents whenever it was possible but wouldn't raise suspicion, went about his business obligations, and continued to enjoy confusing and intriguing his father. Though a sadness and resentment brewed deep within him, he was able to keep it quiet and hidden with regular internal recitations of his decision and his reasons, in addition to the benefits that decision continued to cull from his relationship with Clark.
Though he tried several more times to invite Clark with him to Metropolis for some appropriate event, their plans either never got off the ground or never quite went through for one reason or another. So life progressed as normally as ever for Smallville, including the occasional insane person or strange experience thrown in for good measure.
What Lex had, he appreciated, and what Lex wanted, he found ways to forego.
He had, in fact, grown so complacent with and accepting of his strange situation that when anything mildly unusual happened, he found himself thrown and affected emotionally to an unreasonable extent.
For instance, once—only once—Clark had broken an already arranged date with Lana, faking a stomachache, in order to spend that evening with Lex. It was an odd circumstance: Both of their planned meetings that week had been missed, one because of a spur-of-the-moment business obligation of Lex's, and one because of an as yet unexplained interaction Clark had with a train not quite jumping its tracks, and the resultant interviews and questionings he'd had to endure.
When he'd shown up unexpected at Lex's door and explained that he couldn't take it, but simply had to cancel his date with Lana, whom he'd already seen twice that week, to spend the evening with Lex, whom he hadn't seen in over a week, Lex had actually had to excuse himself, walk briskly to the nearest bathroom, and quickly let out the few tears of relieved joy that insisted on being released.
He'd just as quickly composed himself and found his way back to Clark's side with no indication of any of his inner turmoil.
He'd said quite honestly but quite simply, "I'm very glad to see you, Clark," which was the truth, and was left at that.
At five hours, it had also been the longest meeting he and Clark had had in quite some time. Lex had very nearly forgotten what it was like to have a long, rambling conversation, play a game of pool, and even eat a meal together in addition to that oft-appreciated mindblowing sex. It was nice.
It was rare. But it was nice.
* * * * * *
Lex woke with a start and encircled a death grip around the hand hovering an inch from his belly.
"Lex, it's me."
His body relaxed on demand. "Clark?"
It was pitch black in his bedroom, and he knew he would be able to see nothing, but still he turned to look over his left shoulder and try to make Clark out in the darkness.
"I snuck out," Clark whispered matter-of-factly. He then quickly and comfortably snuggled against Lex's back, put his head on the pillow, and was still in a few short seconds.
Lex still sat up at an angle, hand over Clark's on his belly, heart still hammering in his chest, and still feeling mildly confused. Clark had sneaked out? To be with him? Was that even consistent? No. He was certain it wasn't.
"You snuck out?" he asked.
"Just for a little while. I can't stay long. Sorry to surprise you." Clark sat up on his forearm, and Lex felt like he was being carefully eyed, though as it truly was pitch, that couldn't be accurate. "I couldn't sleep, I tossed and turned, and I... I just needed to be with you. Is... that okay?"
"Yeah." He said it intensely, and with emotion—without thinking, without considering, and without measuring the weight of vulnerability it would press upon him. But that usually was how he spoke with Clark now when he had the opportunity. It was nice to have moments in the relationship where he got to be that truthful. It was surely an oddity.
"I guess I should have called." Clark sounded sheepish.
Lex laughed quietly. "My heart wouldn't have been pounding any less, Clark." He stroked the hand under his palm. "I'm glad you came. It's nice to have you here in the middle of the night. I miss our sleepovers, you know."
"I miss them, too, Lex. I'm sorry about that." There was sincerity, wistfulness, and true apology in the tone, all of which caused tingles of pleasure to spread outwards from the warmth against Lex's back and from the rumble of Clark's voice, which seemed to push its way right into his skin.
Grinning in the dark, Lex laid himself carefully back down and felt Clark doing the same behind him. Soon there was stillness and quiet, and the soothing sensation of warm air puffing onto the back of his scalp. Clark's breath.
For a moment he chastised himself, thinking I feel Clark's breath on me regularly, why am I so emotional about it now? But then he realized: Clark hadn't held him like this, hadn't breathed on him like this, hadn't been with him like this in weeks. In fact, the last time Clark had held him like this had been their last sleepover. That was why it felt so unusually intense.
To clashing emotions of both happiness and horror, Lex felt tears spring to his eyes. It still felt good to know he could feel like this. But he was glad it was so dark.
"You okay?" Clark asked after Lex had simply had to sniff.
"Fine," he said, and reached for a tissue. "Allergies." It was a ridiculous copout, and surely if Clark had thought about it for more than a second, he would have said that he'd thought Lex didn't ever have health problems. But that didn't happen. Though it did hurt, it was sometimes helpful that Clark was indifferent to him.
He quietly blew and wiped his nose, tossed the tissue away, and settled back down. The movement and break in tension made it easier to stop his tears, and he enjoyed the simple pleasure of relaxing into Clark's embrace, warm arms around him, the body of the person he loved pressing against his back.
"I dreamt about you."
Lex's eyes popped back open. His smile widened. "You did?"
He felt Clark nod against the back of his neck. "I dreamt I was holding you, but when I woke up, I had my sheets all bunched up in my arms. I felt like such a dork," he said this last through a laugh.
Lex chuckled back at him. He suddenly had his own urge to wrap Clark in his arms, and he turned around to indulge it. Clark's lips pressed softly against his forehead as he resettled, and Lex's smile was seemingly seared into place. He wouldn't have been one bit surprised to wake up and find that all of this had been a dream.
The lips on his forehead were slowly traversing to the other side, leaving a trail of tiny kisses in their wake. When they reached his temple, they brushed gently over it, then began to follow along his cheekbone and down his cheek. By the time they pressed against his own lips, Lex was more than ready for them, and he gave into Clark's kiss eagerly.
Sensation and emotion coiled quickly in his loins, and he pressed himself forward to offer up the evidence, not at all surprised to find the same waiting for him. Clark gasped out of their kiss and whispered Lex's name as strong arms closed more tightly around Lex's back.
Clark had already done them the favour of stripping down to his briefs before he climbed into the bed, and Lex had done just the same hours ago. Lex quickly divested them both of the last hindering strips of fabric and rolled himself easily atop Clark's lean, warm body, pressing them together limb to limb and muttering a soft sigh into Clark's mouth.
Big hands, grown much more assured and knowledgeable over the months, slid up his legs and down his back, touching him in what he would call his least erotic places, and making them all forget they'd ever not existed purely for sex. His cock grew hard and more than ready, though Clark never thrust up against him, never laid a finger on a hot zone, never muttered a sensual phrase or suggestion. Clark just touched, and that was more than enough.
"Clark, I want you so much," Lex whispered against his lips, and was given a quiet hum in response. He thrust himself gently against Clark's belly to prove his point, then let a hand seek downward to press itself between them with difficulty, and grasp Clark's solid flesh in his fingers. "Do you want me? I think you do. Tell me."
"I want you, Lex," Clark breathed, a lingering trace of the innocence that seemed it would always be a part of him still in his voice. Lex squeezed him, and he moaned low in his chest.
"I know," Lex whispered, his voice soothing while his hand further excited. "I know, Clark."
He slid himself up, moving as gracefully as he could, to straddle Clark's thighs, still lying down on him. With a flick of his wrist, he had them both in his palm, and continued to stroke and squeeze.
Clark's breath came faster, his hands running up and down Lex's body from shoulder to knee. He seemed to become aware of Lex's other hand groping for a bottle of slick, and he began to turn, obviously intending on switching out their positions.
Lex pressed his searching hand against Clark's chest. "Don't," he breathed against Clark's mouth. "Let me do it like this."
Without comment, Clark lay carefully back down and waited in silence.
It wasn't but a moment before Lex was oiling him up and shuffling farther along his body. Clark's slippery cock in his hand, he began to set himself backwards, but was stopped with one hand lightly cupping his ass, and the other lying over his on Clark's erection. "Let me," Clark whispered, not in demand, but in an almost polite plea that teased the corner of Lex's mouth up.
He said nothing, merely removed his hand, slid his palms quickly together and teased at Clark's nipples with the remaining lube on his fingers. Clark's hiss was cut off by Lex's lips.
Lex waited for the breach to come, but when it did, it was softer and smaller than expected, as Clark reached inside him with two slippery, seeking fingers, making his breath catch in his throat. He shifted his pelvis forward, and pressed down for more, but Clark didn't seem receptive to being hurried.
Clark took his sweet time, slipping his fingers in and out of Lex's still tight entrance, stretching him gently and softly, and only pressing at that electric spot on occasion. Lex's impatience grew, but the attention paid to this step never failed to bring a lump to his throat and thick wetness to the head of his cock.
By the time Clark's fingers were withdrawn, Lex's desire and love had both reached their pinnacle, and his patience was reed thin. He pushed eagerly back when Clark's thick tip probed between his cheeks, and nearly sobbed with relief when fullness and warmth began to permeate his body.
He knew Clark wanted to take his time getting in, but Lex was very certainly incapable of giving that to him. He ground out, "Sorry," as he pressed back and down, taking all of Clark's length in one stroke, and causing them both to cry softly out.
Momentarily satisfied, he laid his head against Clark's shoulder, breathing hard, and sat still atop him for at least a minute. Clark's hands continued to coax gentle aphrodisia out of every banal spot on Lex's body. He wanted to say You feel fantastic inside me, and, Your hands are incredible, but more than this, he didn't want to speak and ruin it. So he remained silent but for his panting breaths, and raised himself acutely from Clark's chest, and began to rock.
Clark breathed out a soft ‘oh’ that both said I like that, and, Please keep going slow, and Lex did. He reached down and wrapped his hands around Clark's shoulders, tugging gently until Clark leaned up on his forearms so Lex could kiss him.
For a time that stretched on and on and yet seemed to Lex to stand still, he simply rocked and kissed, kissed and rocked, and made sure to keep Clark's hands away from his stiff cock where one more sensation would be too much to take. Focussed on these actions only, he was taken by surprise when Clark wrapped him up in strong arms, sat up more fully, and encouraged Lex's legs to wrap around his waist. He complied, changing the angle, increasing the pressure, and wrapped his arms tightly around Clark's shoulders.
Impaled, stretched to his limit, Lex gasped Clark's name when he began to pump powerfully up. His pace was slow and leisurely, but his thrusts were strong, deep, and effective. Lex's body sang, his belly grew hot, his balls tight, his chest red, and his cock harder still. Clark's stomach grew slick and wet where he rubbed, and Lex felt himself thrum with tension approaching a peak.
He opened his mouth to say he was close, but then was thrown unexpectedly over the precipice when Clark wrapped hands under and around his shoulders, pressed down, thrust up, and breached Lex's lips with a hot, wet tongue all in one perfect moment.
Lex's cry was loud in his own ears, even muffled by Clark's sweet kiss, as his own seed splattered between them.
Still awash in a haze of orgasmic bliss, cock still spurting hotly, he could only go along when he was moved. There was the strange security of Clark moving them effortlessly, and then he lay atop Lex's body at the foot of the bed, pumped into him in three quick thrusts, and tensed with a choked off shout.
Though Clark's hands left him as they always did in that moment, Lex gripped Clark as tightly to himself as he could in post-orgasmic exhaustion, cherishing the vibration of every shudder that wracked Clark through.
When he'd finally gone still, and the once knowing hands came back to Lex's body weak and defeated and trembling, Lex still did not release him, but locked him in place, one hand grasping tightly the opposite wrist, and silently refused to relent.
Clark offered no argument. He simply lay there, panting and heavy.
Sex was something they did well together. But sometimes they did this instead. And it was always after these times that Lex thought, It would be now. If he loved me, this would be the time he would say it. In the dark. In the haze. In the heat. It would be now.
And it never was.
"God, I can't move," Clark whispered, and panted some more.
Lex swallowed the old disappointment down with the ease of practice, and chuckled quietly. "You were doing just fine a few minutes ago."
A high-pitched bark of laughter was his response, and then Clark tried weakly to pull away, but Lex held him fast.
"One more minute," he breathed, hearing thickness in his voice, and clearing his throat to cover it.
"Okay."
Clark sighed and melted back into him, his hands finding their way between Lex's back and the mattress, and wrapping him up in turn. He stayed for more than just another minute, until he had softened completely and the slightest move from either of them would have broken their connection.
Lex was afraid to breathe too deeply and be the one to break it.
Clark hummed happily against Lex's neck, kissed him there loudly, and rose to hands and knees, separating them in a shattered instant. There was more movement as Clark sat back on his feet, and then Lex blinked at a bluish glow lighting up Clark's face and realized he was checking the time. Clark's eyebrows went up at what he'd found. "Wow. Really?"
Lex's heart, still singing softly despite the old disappointment, sunk into his belly. He scooted back and away from Clark's body, just to have his legs back to himself and no longer being spread wide by Clark's hips. "Late?"
"Or early," Clark said, the blue glow gone, but his smile coming through nonetheless. "Depends on your point of view." His hand groped out and found Lex's arm, and he used it as a guide to place a soft kiss that tasted like good-bye onto Lex's lips. "But, yeah, I'd better get going back. Doesn't even feel like I've been here that long."
"No," Lex said quietly. "It doesn't."
Another kiss, this one tasting like good-bye, and I'm sorry, was pressed on him, but Lex refused it in silence, buried a hand in Clark's hair, turned his head, and changed the flavour to until next time. He felt Clark's lips stretching into a smile before Lex finally released him.
"Mm," Clark hummed, and a moment later, was making quiet shuffling sounds as he rediscovered his clothes. "Good night," he said, sounding by the door. "I'll see you in a couple days, okay?"
Lex nodded silently before he remembered to reply with, "Okay. Good night, Clark."
The door closed softly, the room smelled of what he'd had but had no longer, his throat was tight, his skin was growing cold, and he realized with a distinctly sinking feeling that it hadn't been any different. Just later.
* * * * * *
* * * * * *
Focus, Clark, focus! Oh, god... What the hell is she talking about? I have no idea!
It wasn't that he didn't like spending time in Lana's company. He did. A lot of the time, he even looked forward to it. Just not... right... now.
Right now, he wanted desperately to be wrapped up, naked, in Lex's arms, and listening to him complain it was too damn hot for this, but letting Clark do it anyway. Right now, he wanted to be swimming in Lex's pool, racing him in laps, and winning a couple of times just because he knew Lex was never a sore loser with him. Then, on a towel by the poolside, he wanted to combine his celebration and Lex's consolation gift. Right now, he wanted to do that indoor picnic thing again where they forewent the plates and used one another's bodies to hold the food instead.
Right now he was very horny.
"—don't you think?"
Oh. God!
"Uh..." Clark's mind raced frantically for any piece of the last five minutes of the conversation, but came up with both hands empty. "Yeah. Yeah, definitely."
"Oh, good. I think that's what I'll do, then."
Clark breathed an internal sigh of relief and hoped like crazy that Lana hadn't just asked if he thought she should get a tattoo on her face.
God, he didn't want to do this anymore! He wanted to be able to just stand up and say, Sorry, Lana, but I need to go see my boyfriend, and just go. He didn't want to pretend with her anymore, he didn't want to have to watch the clock when he was at Lex's place, he didn't want it to be like this.
But he knew he had to. And he knew he couldn't mention this to Lex, or else Lex might really think that Clark just wasn't dedicated to making it all work. The last thing he wanted was knowing that Lex was disappointed in him.
So he tried to wipe every scene out of his head that had higher than a PG rating, and really tried to concentrate on what Lana was saying.
*
Clark worked like a demon, planting post after post, nailing board after board, hanging wire after wire. If he had an insane amount of work done before he went to Lex's, his dad couldn't complain about how long he spent over there. He just couldn't.
By the time he looked up to check his progress, he realized he had almost the entire section that faced the back forty done.
"Oops." He'd gone a bit overboard. They always tried to make sure that Clark didn't do more work than could believably be done in a day by three very hardworking people, just in case the same person should come to visit them two days in a row, or even the same day. He was safe, though, because no one had been by for a couple of days.
He sped everything back into its proper place, drove the truck back to the driveway, and jogged into the house at a brisk pace.
His mom was in the kitchen, washing something in the sink, and he placed a quick kiss on her cheek before he started up the stairs. "I'm gonna go shower, and then I'm going to Lex's for a while, okay?" he called, and was already up the steps and halfway down the hall before he got his answer.
"All right, but remember, you have to be back in an hour!" she called back.
Clark froze in his tracks. An hour? An hour?
He turned around and came back to the top step. "An hour? What for? I can have dinner at Lex's."
"Well, that's fine, honey," she said over her shoulder, "but you and your father still have to take that huge order to that fancy new restaurant along route 90."
Clark's shoulders fell. "That's to-night? Can't we do it later?"
Martha shook the water off her hands and turned around to eye him sternly. "Clark, that restaurant is practically in Metropolis. He's going to want to leave by six so you guys can get back at a decent hour, and you promised you would help him."
Clark sighed heavily and rolled his eyes at the guilt trip, but muttered ‘fine,’ and stalked back down the hall.
He hurried through his shower, nearly muttering to himself the entire time. It'd been almost a week since he'd seen Lex, and he just had to go by to-day. Besides that, he'd called Lex earlier and said he would, so now he had two promises to keep.
Sighing as he shoved his way into fresh clothes, he checked his watch and resigned himself to keeping a sharp eye on it over the next hour.
*
The sex was incredible as always, and so Lex was rather surprised to hear himself think, Perhaps I don't need this.
Internally raising an eyebrow at that thought, he nonetheless tried to follow it through. Clark was performing his normal hazy, unfocussed search for clothes, and though Lex knew exactly where each piece was, he didn't help. He simply watched, and thought.
Perhaps he didn't need this. Perhaps he didn't need the mindblowing sex. Perhaps he didn't need any kind of sex from Clark at all. Perhaps he didn't need Clark's kiss, Clark's long, naked body, Clark's flushed, sweaty face, Clark's sex-teased hair. Perhaps he didn't need Clark wanting him, Clark taking him, Clark pushing into him and making him feel whole once or twice a week.
Perhaps, if he could find a way to get them—as Clark had once said—‘back to the beginning,’ back to companionship and friendship and real time spent together and real conversations had, the lack of sex wouldn't bother Lex in the slightest.
The ideal, of course, was to have both. But that, he was slowly discovering, seemed to be an impossible task for him.
For not the first time, but possibly the most intense, he reconsidered the decision he'd made to carry this, as it was, to the very end, and learn to be satisfied with what he received. For not the first time, but possibly the most serious, he opened his mouth to make such a suggestion.
He wasn't sure if his timing was good or bad when, before he'd said a word, Clark came back, leaned down onto the bed, and filled his open mouth with a thick, swirling tongue that silenced him in more ways than one.
Lex felt momentarily satiated. But when Clark broke the kiss, smiled, and started to pull away, Lex's desire for what he missed washed insistently over him, and he gripped Clark's wrist in his hand.
"What's your rush?" Lex asked, softening it with a small smile. "Can't you stay for a little longer? Talk with me?"
Clark simply gaped in surprise for a second, then seemed to come back to himself. He thought to check his watch, and when he did, his cheeks went rosy and his head ducked down. He made a strange movement that Lex belatedly realized meant he was kicking his shoes back off and then, to Lex's surprise, he climbed back into the bed.
His jeans and buttons were harsh against Lex's bare skin, but Lex couldn't bring himself to care. Clark was wrapping him up in warmth and strength, and pressing a hot face into his sweaty neck, and muttering that he was sorry, and it was all because Lex had simply voiced his desire for their old conversation.
Lex wanted to kick himself and jump up and down at the same time. Was he such a fool? Why hadn't he simply said something before? Was it so easy to get what he needed from Clark—simply to ask?
"I get paranoid sometimes," Clark was mumbling into Lex's neck. "You know, that maybe my folks'll get suspicious if I spend too much time over here. I thought the summer would be easier, but... it really isn't. There's so much to do, and they're used to having me around most the day, and—"
"It's all right, Clark," Lex broke in, trying to contain his elation. "I understand. I just... miss talking to you."
Clark's face grew ever hotter on his skin, and a leg was hooked gently over his hip. "Me, too," he said.
Lex did allow a soft, low chuckle of happiness to escape, but kept the rest reined in. "So," he started, sounding ridiculously cheerful even to himself, "what's all this about the slave-driving Kent estate?"
"Oh, god!" Clark exclaimed, and leaned back, showing off the last of a dramatic eyeroll. "Dad has decided, in his infinite wisdom," Clark arced a hand toward the opposite wall for effect, "that the entire fence... must be taken down... and rebuilt."
Lex blinked. "The enti—you mean the one that goes—"
"All the way... around... the property. Yeah. That one."
"Why in the world—?"
Clark shook his head, indicating that the answer was ridiculous. "It all goes back to this insanely great deal we got on lumber a couple months ago. My mom said not to go crazy with it, but Dad's like, ‘We'll never run out of uses for lumber this good,’" Clark did a rather good imitation of his father, "and, well, fast-forward to now, and I'm stuck removing and rebuilding a fence."
Lex continued to blink. "By... yourself?"
Clark stilled for an almost imperceptible moment. "Uh—No, not by myself. I mean, Dad's—no, not by myself."
"Ah." Lex gave Clark half a suspicious look, but didn't bother really working it, and it turned into a smile and a quick glance away as he just let it go.
"What about you?" Clark asked after a short silence.
"Hm?"
Clark shrugged, the motion moving Lex, too, since Clark's arms were around him again. "How's work?"
Lex shrugged back at him. "Boring. Normal," he said, and smiled, and Clark chuckled at the reminder of past ritual.
Lex got the impression Clark was going to say something else. But he curtailed it and leaned in instead to give Lex a sweet kiss. Lex's arms tightened in silent protest around his back. It wasn't enough, and he didn't want a taste of good-bye just yet.
He was gratified to feel Clark hugging him back just as tightly, making no move to leave and facing Lex again with heavy eyelids and a small smile. He looked satiated and sleepy, and Lex desperately wished he could suggest they simply nap together, but he knew Clark must have had somewhere to be with the attention he kept paying to his watch.
After a long, quiet beat of stillness and comfort, Clark shrugged slightly. "So, um... what's with this expansion thing?" he asked curiously.
"Hm? Expansion?" Lex's eyes were half closed in satiation, and his voice rumbled low and lazy in his chest.
Clark's eyes flared and he swooped in and kissed Lex hot and hungry, pressing his clothed body tightly against Lex's naked skin and rendering him breathless. "You sound... so sexy," Clark whispered when he'd pulled away.
With difficulty, Lex raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Exxxxxpansionnn," he purred.
Clark's eyes widened and he nodded seriously. "Oh, yeah," he said, and Lex snorted with laughter.
"Exxxxpossse an exxxpanssssive exxxxpansionnn," Lex went on, and lifted his eyebrows suggestively.
Clark faked a shiver, his eyes rolling. "Stop," he admonished, "or I'll have to ravish you."
Lex's laughter destroyed all ability to make seductive-sounding Xs, so he gave up the fight. He pressed his forehead lightly against Clark's chest as his chuckles slowly died away, and he stayed comfortably there when all was silent again.
Clark kissed the crown of his head, and the back of Lex's neck tightened and broke out with a rash of goose bumps.
"Seriously, though," Clark said, "you have this whole town in a tizzy. Every other person thinks they've got your plan all figured out, but they've all got totally different theories."
Lex smiled secretly against Clark's chest, glad to hear it.
"Even my dad's joined in on the wild-guess-athon." He sighed softly and adjusted his hands on Lex's back. "So what's the real story?"
Lex leaned up out of Clark's chest, secretive smile still firmly in place.
An answering grin slid across Clark's lips when he saw it. "Ah, the look of evil genius, I knew it. It's probably way better than anything anybody's thought of, isn't it?"
Lex shrugged noncommittally.
Clark shook him in gentle encouragement. "Isn't it?"
Lex made a considering humming sound, as if he honestly wasn't quite sure. Then, "If I had to venture a guess, I would say... yes. Most definitely so."
"Business world, Lex Luthor, your future king," Clark said, making introductions. "Is it diabolical?" he asked secretly.
Lex made an affirmative hum.
"Is it genius?"
"Oh, quite."
"Is it... sexy?"
Lex raised an eyebrow. "Something tells me you might think so."
Clark chuckled a concession, then fell into an expectant silence. When Lex said nothing, just watched him, Clark whined out, "Aw, come on—tell me!" so convincingly like a five year old that Lex had to laugh.
"Well," he said, smile still prevalent, and gaze lowered in coquettish immodesty, "you see, there's a—" He broke off when he looked up into Clark's eyes and found them wide and interested and even sparkling. He smiled into them, but the short silence gave him room to think.
He thought about Clark's eyes and Clark's father and Clark's interest. He thought about the not so subtle prod Jonathan had made months ago at the farmers’ market into LexCorp's plans. He thought about how he and Clark never talked anymore, and how quickly the conversation, once started, had also turned to LexCorp's plans.
He thought about secrecy and success and independence from his father and how they all went hand in hand. He thought about his livelihood and his future and the details on his tongue. He thought about his all-consuming, seemingly unconditional love for Clark, and the paltriness of what he received in return.
He thought about what he was to Clark, and he wondered, if their relationship had a single visual that could be put to it, if it wouldn't be just this: Clark, fully clothed and barely convinced not to walk out, lying next to Lex, who was bare and vulnerable, and spilling his secrets. Wasn't this moment just the summation of what they were? And wasn't it just the antithesis of what Lex wanted for them?
He renders you powerless.
Lex's back straightened. His arms stiffened. His expression melted into a mask of placidity. "Why so interested in LexCorp all of a sudden, Clark?" he asked, not unkindly, but with curiosity.
"Huh? Oh, I... uh... I w—um—"
Lex let a small smile sit on his lips a beat, and then he rolled easily out of Clark's arms and to the other side of the bed. He reached for boxers and slacks and dressed quickly and efficiently. "Well, you've reminded me—and I'm glad you did, thank you—that I have quite a bit of work to do, and time is short."
The bitterness he'd wished for long ago rushed through him in an intense wave, right where, how, and when he needed it the most. Just in time. To truly love one who could never love him in return would be his downfall. Almost was his downfall.
He would not allow it.
"Oh, I thought you wanted—"
"Yes, of course, of course. My mistake. I had forgotten." He sat on the edge of the bed again, back to Clark, and concentrated on the laces of his shoes. "I have meetings and reports, fiscal year issues, et cetera, and you have that fence to get back to." He finished dressing and got to his feet, watching Clark rise slowly to a sitting position and slide his feet back into his boots.
"Are you... okay? You're not m—"
"Yes, of course. As I said, you reminded me. I'd forgotten. Thank you."
"Oh." He leaned over and tied the laces. "Okay," he muttered. "Well, I'll see you...?"
"Another day," Lex offered vaguely, and walked around to see him out the door.
Every hesitant step Clark made, every half sentence that made its way past his lips, only assured Lex further that he'd just made the right decision. One minute later and he could have been ruined. One minute later and every secret would have spilled out of him in ultimate trust and love, unreturned. One minute between the life he was meant to lead, and an existence he couldn't bear to consider.
He led Clark all the way to the front door, accepted the close-mouthed kiss and the tentative good-bye, and shut the door quietly on Clark's retreating back. His breath came out of him in a relieved rush, and he thanked the Fates again for that one minute.
It was that one minute, he now knew, that would always define him.
*
Clark couldn't help but wonder what was so important that Lex would so suddenly usher him out. He'd been a little disappointed at first, but the truth was, he'd needed to get going anyway, and if Lex had something he really needed to do, then it was better that Clark had unintentionally reminded him of it than for Lex to have completely forgotten.
Really, he would have felt awful if Lex had ended up missing a deadline for him. Though he hadn't quite told Clark the details yet, Clark could certainly see that this expansion of LexCorp, whatever it was, was very important to Lex and, just like them, the plan for it needed to be adhered to very carefully.
He should perhaps even have felt a little grateful that Lex had decided to ask him to go for a change, instead of Clark having to walk out yet again. Sometimes it was hard to be the one who always did the leaving. Sometimes it was pretty difficult even to get his legs to move away. They, like the rest of him, knew he didn't really want to go.
Clark checked his watch and saw his timing was spot on. He broke into a speedy run and arrived by the truck just as his dad was lowering the first box of vegetables into the back with a scowl.
"Thought I'd slacked off, didn't ya?"
* * * * * *
* * * * * *
Lex was no fool. He knew he needed some time to ease himself into this new mindset, and he gave himself that.
For the next week, when Clark called, Lex was busy, or would soon be busy, and so it was a bad time to come over. The week after that, Lex had an hour to spend, and it was spent as expected, with little talk but much exertion.
The first couple of times they were physically close again, it was hard as hell to keep his emotions in check. He only achieved it by constantly reminding himself of the things that were important to know: His love, no matter how strongly he felt it, was not returned; his ruin could be simple and yet utterly complete if he were to ever spill his company's secrets in a vain attempt to prove himself; an emotionally one-sided relationship was sure to bring him only loneliness and misery and was not, under any circumstances, worth handing his future away. He'd already handed his heart over, and though he could survive without that, he could not survive without his future. No matter how Clark looked at him, no matter how Clark's hands affected him, no matter how tenderly he might find himself feeling, these were the things he needed to remember, and he did.
Bitterness was his constant companion. It wasn't so much that he blamed Clark, because he didn't, but that feeling the bitterness helped keep the old vulnerability from reasserting itself. And if that bitterness came out in their lovemaking—or whatever the hell it was—and made it less about emotion and more about physical pleasure, then all the better.
Every time Clark appeared in his doorway, emotion would leap into his throat, and though Lex didn't fool himself that he'd ever be able to stop feeling at the sight of him, it became easier each and every time to push it back down. It became easier each and every time to take what he wanted, give what was wanted of him, and then let Clark walk away. When the door closed again, defeat always washed over him, but with judicious use of that same bitterness, he was able to contort it into a cold feeling of victory.
He knew, getting to his feet a calculated seven seconds after Clark had entered through the office doors, that this time would be the same. This time would even be a little easier. He knew because it had only taken one of those seven seconds to swallow down the love that had tried to crawl out at the sound of Clark's step in the hall.
"Hey, Clark."
"Hey, Lex."
*
Half an hour later, Lex was hating himself.
Kneeling, straddling Clark's chest, cock buried in a red, wet mouth, ears attuned to the sound of Clark jerking himself off behind Lex's back, Lex hated himself.
He hated himself because he wanted Clark to choke and cough. He hated himself because he wanted to stop Clark's throat up, to make sure that he could never ask such soulbreaking questions of Lex again.
His hips snapped harder than they needed to, his cock pushed further in than he should have let it, and he hated himself, and he didn't care. He felt his lip curl into a sneer as he thrust and fucked, but still Clark didn't choke. Clark didn't cough or gag or pull away.
Instead, Clark did something else soulbreaking. He opened his eyes, and he looked up.
Lex's sneer was banished; his hips stilled; his eyes stung. That expression! That same goddamn expression that delighted in fooling him into thinking that this was love.
He closed his eyes, because he couldn't stand to look at it. It made him want so much, it made him hurt so goddamn much, he couldn't stand it. It made him want to give in, made him want to show the emotion he wished he could squash, made him want to lay out the love he'd shoved into a box and hidden in a dark recess of the black, empty place where his heart used to be.
It made him want all the things he knew he couldn't have.
He must have been still too long. There was a rough sliding sound as Clark adjusted his position on the carpet, rose to his knees instead, and took up his own motion on Lex's cock while Lex's hips stayed put.
The hand that had been tangled so hard in Clark's hair, pulling and pushing in time with violent thrusts, softened and relaxed, and began instead to pet through silky, damp strands. The other, on Clark's arm, stopped gripping and digging and twisting, and began instead to caress over hot, reddened skin.
Sensations changed and shifted and teased him, and Lex felt choked with what he knew he had to hold back. The bitterness he'd clung to so determinedly was failing. Failing... Failing...
Lex's eyes snapped open. Failure was not an option.
He looked down to where Clark moved on him, his eyes closed, his lips stretched, his hand on his own cock, stroking with irregular movements. Lex's fingers tightened in Clark's hair again, and for good measure, his other hand slid up to grip it as well.
He used the purchase to push Clark roughly back with him, never taking himself out of Clark's mouth, as he knee-walked them up against the side of a low-set chair, Clark's head making a thwack against the leather-covered frame.
The heel of his hand pushed strongly at Clark's forehead, his fingers splayed across the crown of his head, keeping him still, and Lex began to fuck his mouth ruthlessly. In seconds, the slippery sound of Clark's stroking hand sped up behind him. Then a grunt or a cry or a yell—something—tried to work its way around Lex's cock in his throat, as Clark arched up from the hips, and hot, thick wetness splashed against Lex's ass.
The silenced sound became a hum, and sent a sweet vibration along Lex's cock, and the fluid that splattered him seemed made to encourage him along. He pumped hard, ignoring the occasional scrape of teeth, and the choked off, difficult breaths Clark tried and failed to take. His eyes closed, and nothing mattered but the hot buildup in his groin and the sweat-damp head under his hand.
His chin dropped to his chest and he forced his eyes open, grunting loud and deep at the sight of his shaft disappearing past Clark's lips, and the skin around them wet with leaking spit, and pink with abuse.
"I'm gonna come," he growled, and groaned deeply when Clark's eyes opened and looked up at him in a haze.
A tentative hand began to touch the back of his leg, but it was too late. He was already shouting his relief and jamming himself down Clark's throat for the last time as an angry climax ripped through his body.
When it was over, he pushed roughly at Clark's forehead as he pulled himself out, then stumbled back to sprawl out on the floor several feet from Clark, who slumped to the side when he was finally released, but stayed with his back against the chair. They panted loudly as they came down, but did not speak and did not touch.
Making love was something they used to do well together. Now they did this instead.
*
Clark was washing pots and pans, and it was incredibly stupid of him to let himself think of things like this while he was washing pots and pans. In his family's kitchen. With his parents at the table behind him.
But he couldn't help it.
He could have sworn that he could still feel Lex in his mouth. He felt as if he'd been stretched forever, that it would never fade.
The new dynamic that had been coming into their sexual relationship lately was incredible. There was an almost violently sexy enjoyment that Lex was taking from him and giving him at the same time, and it was making him crazy with a constant, thrumming lust.
Sometimes, like to-night, he'd been so affected he couldn't even talk afterwards. And not just for a couple of minutes afterwards like might be expected, but for a long, long time afterwards. Even his parents had barely been able to get him to speak during dinner. All he could think about was Lex's hand gripping his head, showing a strength he'd never used to show, pumping into Clark's mouth with abandon, showing an animal side Clark had never seen from Lex or from anyone.
He'd always thought that what he wanted to do was to treat Lex's body like a breakable thing, to hold him carefully and always show his tender feelings with his movements—the ones he could never talk about because of his situation. But this was something altogether different, and it was amazing.
Lex was introducing him to all new ways to enjoy his body, and to all new levels of exhaustion. He'd never considered that Lex might actually want to be rough, might want to be treated rough, might enjoy it, but it was so, and just thinking about it made him hard all over again.
Lex was more than his lover, he was a teacher, and he was teaching Clark things about himself that he'd never suspected.
In their beginning, when Clark would bring himself off quietly at night, he'd think about kissing Lex's lips and saying aloud how he felt about him. Then later, when more had happened between them, he began to think about pushing into Lex's body softly and slowly, taking his time, making sure Lex could feel how much Clark loved him.
But now, after the past couple of weeks... now he thought about thrusting bodies being roughly thrown about. He thought about Lex's dick in his throat, cutting off his oxygen and forcing him silent. He thought about being folded in half and Lex demanding he hold his own legs up and back, and then thrusting his tongue, wet and dominant, and without the slightest warning, into Clark's ass. He thought about Lex shoving him onto his back, and digging his knees into the back of Clark's hands by his sides while he rode him hard and fast without letting him touch. Lex would do that until Clark would come, and then he'd shuffle closer, knees digging farther up Clark's arms, and jerk himself off in Clark's face, and not even let him wipe it off until Lex was ready for him to. Now, when he was alone, and it was dark, Clark thought about all these things they'd done, and more that they hadn't done yet but maybe would.
Lex had taken Clark's old request to have Lex on top into a whole new category. Clark had never realized how far he'd wanted Lex to take that request until Lex did. And now all he could wonder was how Lex could have known about it before he had.
The phone rang, and though it was unusual for him, he didn't even pretend to be interested in trying to get it, because there was no way he was going to turn away from the sink right now. If the current situation persisted, he'd be washing these last two pans for the rest of the evening.
"Hello?" Clark's mom had it. "Hold on, honey," she said to the phone, then walked toward Clark. "It's Lana," she said, and positioned the receiver on his shoulder so he could hold it there and talk, though his hands were still in the water.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Clark. What's going on?"
"Oh, not much." He pretended to shift his weight on his feet, rubbing the ache in his pants against the cupboard in front of him. "Just washing up after dinner. What's up?"
"Nothing much here, either. I was just wondering if you wanted to go see a movie to-night. If you're not busy."
"Uh..." He rubbed at his left calf with the front of his right foot, using the motion to hide his rocking against the ever increasingly helpful cupboard. "I'm sorry, I actually kind of am."
"Oh." It sounded distinctly like disappointment, and Clark realized that hadn't been very nice at all.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Lana," he said sincerely. "It's just—"
"No, it's okay. I know—parents, farm life, all that. Maybe to-morrow?"
"Oh, yeah," he said, half to her and half to the cupboard. "That'd be great."
"Okay. See ya."
"See ya." The click of the line closing sounded in his ear, and he leaned just slightly back. "Mom?"
She was there in a quick few seconds, taking the phone from his shoulder and clicking it to Off. "You're not going to go out with Lana to-night?" she asked, also sounding disappointed.
He stopped pressing against the cupboard. It was just a little too weird. "Oh, to-morrow we're gonna go," he said matter-of-factly.
"Oh. Well, all right."
She crossed the kitchen to put the phone back on its hook, and he thanked his lucky stars that she hadn't thought to ask why he'd been cleaning that same pan for the last ten minutes.
Maybe he shouldn't have blown Lana off like that, but Clark just couldn't stand to pretend right now. All he could think about was Lex and being back with Lex and Lex's eyes and Lex's hands and Lex's mouth and Lex's cock. In fact, if he had tried to pretend right then, his failure would likely have been spectacular.
No. Best to stay home, go up to his room to ‘read,’ and take care of the persistent issue all of his recent thoughts had brought up.
* * * * * *
* * * * * *
He hadn't done this in a long time.
Lying in the centre of The Room, spread-eagle on a towel, eyes meeting Clark's in the portrait while he slowly jerked himself off was a guilty pleasure he'd felt was only right to give up when his fantasy had started to become reality. Or something like it.
Over the last two weeks, he'd found half a dozen excuses as to why Clark couldn't come by this day or that day. He'd made them all work, and even kept most of them close to the truth.
But to-day he'd had to admit that he didn't just miss Clark's presence. He missed Clark, and he'd been missing Clark for a lot longer than two measly weeks.
To-day he'd finally admitted to himself that it was over.
Maybe he should have cried, but he didn't. When he'd said it out loud to an empty room, Clark, it's over, it had made him laugh, once and without humour. It had been a dark, dry sound that he hadn't liked, but knew he'd get used to.
Right after that, he'd brought out the towel. It was time to admit again that it was still a fantasy. It always had been. He could have his guilty pleasure back.
Clark's eyes sparkled in the photograph as they watched Lex bring himself off. He used to whisper at the representation of Clark that he wanted him, and imagined that Clark said it back. But that wasn't the fantasy anymore. That had happened.
"I love you," he whispered.
I love you, too, Lex.
"I hate you," he hissed.
I know.
Lex choked on a cry as his hand's strokes roughened, and he bit down on the inside of his other arm to muffle himself. The Room was soundproof. That wasn't the point.
He didn't want to blink, just wanted to stare into the eyes of the man who'd broken him for as long as he possibly could.
He'd often wondered in the past if he was capable of fully giving of himself to another person. Sometimes he'd convinced himself that he wasn't. He was as surprised as anyone else could have possibly been to look up one day and find he'd given himself over to Clark. But now he knew that he was no longer capable of this. Not again. In a romantic frenzy, he'd handed his heart over to Clark without request or reciprocation. Most importantly, he'd handed it over with nothing else in his possession with which to replace it. He given away the tool.
The tears fell when he reached a pointed and painful peak, back arched into empty air, and skin aglow with the blue light from Clark's photo.
So take it, Clark. Take what I gave you and just go.
Maybe he'd be better off without the both of them.
* * * * * *
Clark walked into Lex's den with a big smile on his face and found Lex standing by the window, looking out. He shut the door quietly behind him and cleared his throat to announce his presence.
"Come in, Clark," Lex said quietly, but didn't turn.
Clark advanced. "I can't tell you how happy I was to hear from you. You've been so busy lately that I—"
"I didn't call you over here for that, Clark."
Clark's brow knitted together; he wondered why Lex wasn't turning to face him. "Oh, don't you have—? I mean, are you still busy?"
"I called you over here because I've made a decision and it involves you. I just need to inform you of it."
Clark stepped cautiously closer. "You've ‘made a decision that involves me’?" He ran suddenly sweaty palms over the thighs of his jeans. "Um... Well, that doesn't sound good."
Lex sighed slowly and steadily, and when he spoke, his words were very clear. "I've decided that our relationship has gone as far as it can go. Continuing in this vein can only have unpleasant repercussions. You're young; I'm in the public eye and have an image to think about. It's been going on too long already. It's best that we end this now before anything untoward happens."
Clark was frozen in place, his left foot out toward Lex where he'd started to step with it, but had never completed the motion. "I don't understand," he mumbled, and hoped it was true. Because it had to be. Because it couldn't have been what it sounded like.
Lex continued to face the window. "In layman's terms, I'm breaking up with you, Clark. It's over."
Clark had to bring his left leg back under him before he fell over from the shock. He stood swaying in place, hearing his heart in his ears and trying desperately not to pant. "No, it c— But why?" The steadiness of his own voice surprised him.
"I've told you why, Clark."
"Actually, you told the window why, Lex!" he exclaimed in a huff. "Can't you even look at me?"
"Please don't make a scene," Lex said quietly. "Let's end this as calmly as we stepped into it. All right? Just turn around and leave. Get on with your life. I'll get on with mine. We don't need to draw this out."
Clark tilted his head in absolute bafflement. This person didn't even sound like the Lex Clark knew. "Lex, are you okay? You don't... seem yourself. Is something wrong?"
Lex sighed again, less steady this time.
Clark took a step closer. "Did something happen? Did something happen to make you want to say this? Lex, I know you; this isn't you. You wouldn't just... do this. There must be a real, concrete reason you'd say these things. What is it?"
"Clark, if you would just take a minute to think about what I'm saying, you'd realize I'm right. Continuing our association can only—"
"Our association?" Clark spat his distaste of the word.
Lex paused for a brief moment as if to allow Clark's indignation to fade away before he went on. "...can only lead to complications. If I were a different man and this was a different town, then perhaps... But it isn't. I am who I am and we live in Kansas, not the Netherlands."
Clark's shallow breathing was getting dangerously close to hyperventilation, which made absolutely no sense, as that shouldn't have been possible for him. But none of this made any sense. "Lex, are you worried that someone might... find out? Because I've been so careful, Lex, I really have. I haven't told anyone. I won't. I promise."
"Secrets don't keep. It'll be better for both of us if we just end it now. Please don't make this more difficult than it has to be."
Clark spread his arms. "I'm not trying to be ‘difficult,’ Lex! I just don't understand why all of a sudden—" He stopped, dropped his arms to his sides with a sigh, and tried again, more softly this time. "Look, what made you think of this now? I mean... it's been ten months. Seems kind of weird to just think of it now."
"It's not like that at all, Clark. It's always been in the back of my mind. I just didn't honestly think we would last this long. I kept expecting us to move out of it, but... Well, as you've said, it's been ten months. I think it's time I was proactive."
A lump rose with terrifying suddenness into Clark's throat. "What—you mean... you never thought we'd last?"
Lex shrugged fluidly, as if he wasn't bothered by that interpretation. It was surreal. This entire episode was utterly surreal, and Clark prayed it was a bad dream.
"Why," Clark asked, his voice shaking, "would you start something with me if you never thought it would go anywhere?"
Lex said nothing, just stared out that damned window.
Clark swallowed hard. "Why would you tell me you love me?"
Lex turned his head, still not facing Clark, but making a perfect profile before him. Clark was sure he could be seen out of the corner of Lex's eye. "You're my best friend, Clark. I do love you."
"Then why would you do this to me?"
Lex's head swiveled back toward the window with a quiet scoff. "Clark, I'm doing this for you—just as much as I'm doing it for me. It's for the best. You don't know the kind of things that could be brought down on us. Rural town, the press, tabloids—"
"Lex, did someone get pictures of us or something?" Clark took in a sudden breath. "Are you being blackmailed?"
Lex chuckled at the windowpane and his neck elongated as he dropped his chin to his chest, shaking his head. "No, Clark," he said, then sobered. "But you bring up a good point. One of many, I'm sure." He glanced over his shoulder again. "Look, I don't want this to end badly. I've never had a friend like you. I'd hate to cut you out of my life. We just need to trim off the excess. All right?"
"Trim off the excess?" Clark boomed, sounding, he belatedly realized, quite like his father. "What the hell are you talking about? What's wrong with you?" He stalked over and grabbed Lex by the shoulders, spinning him around and staring into his eyes, but still unable to find answers.
Clark's anger faded in a millisecond. "I did something, right?" he asked in a panic, feeling his eyes sting. "I did something, and I messed it up, and now you want to end it. Please tell me what it is, Lex," he said with a quick but gentle shake of Lex's shoulders. "Tell me what I did, and I'll fix it, and I'll never do it again, I swear it. Please. Please tell me."
Lex's hands rested carefully on Clark's forearms, and he seemed more composed than he should have been while being manhandled. "Clark, let me go. Don't do this," he said calmly.
Clark's fingers tightened their grip, but the steadiness in Lex's eyes began to get to him, and he finally let go. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "But I don't understand why you're doing this. I want to understand, Lex. Please explain it to me. I'll listen."
He wanted Lex to reach up and squeeze at his arm in the old reassurance, but it didn't happen. Lex slid his hands into his pockets instead, and stood there looking like he had perfect control of himself. Clark's throat tightened ever further.
"I've given you my reasons. I promise, they're all perfectly valid and sound. I'm not overreacting or being a doomsayer. I'm just being realistic. This has gone on for too long and it has to stop now. I've enjoyed it as much as you have, Clark, but it's time for it to be over. It's time to move on. We'll both be a lot happier if we just accept that."
Clark's head was shaking on his neck before Lex was half done. "No, no, I won't be. I won't be happier, Lex." His nose burned and his vision began to blur with tears of absolute frustration. "Because I've never been happier in my whole life than I am when I'm with you. If you take that away from me—"
"Clark, I'll still be here. We can still be friends."
"That's not good enough!" Fists clenched tightly by his sides, tension ran in a line down Clark's back. "That's not good enough, Lex," he said more softly. "I need us the way we are."
"We can't be the way we are anymore, Clark." Lex turned away again and walked toward the fireplace, feigning interest in the objects on the mantelpiece, among them, an incredibly beautiful but conspicuously empty crystal vase.
"Then maybe we can be more, Lex. If you need us to change, I can do that, just tell me how—tell me what you want. What do you want?"
Lex turned his head. "I want you to accept that it's over."
"No!" Clark stalked over, not sure what he was going to do, not sure what he could do, and he surprised himself probably as much as he must have surprised Lex when, upon arriving by Lex's side, he dropped heavily to his knees, wrapped his arms around Lex's thighs, hid his face against a hip, and cried.
He didn't realize until he'd been doing it for a while that he was muttering through his tears. "Please don't leave, please don't do this, please stay, let me fix it, let me fix it, don't leave me, please don't leave me, please don't, Lex, please don't..."
"Clark—" Lex pushed ineffectually at Clark's hands, and he tried to stumble back, but Clark held him fast.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, please don't go, please don't go," he continued to mutter under his breath, hardly able to be understood, and mostly sounding like he was praying.
"Clark, stop this," Lex said sternly. Clark's muttering let up suddenly, but he only gripped Lex's legs tighter.
He forced his face out of Lex's hip and looked up at him with wet eyes. "I'll do anything, Lex. Please just don't do this to us."
Lex reached down and gripped Clark's arms under the elbows, pulling up. "Get up. Get up, Clark."
After a long tense beat of not moving, Clark finally allowed his fingers to relax, and himself to be pulled to his feet.
"Now, I'm doing this for you. Stop acting like a child."
The insult meant nothing to Clark, and he let it pass by without comment. "For me?" he yelled. "I don't need you to change the best things about my life for me, Lex. God!" He flung his arms outward in irritation. "Half the time I've known you, you've been giving me things I don't need! Swords, fireworks, money, grand gestures—hell, trying to give me Lana like she was a new truck—well, I don't want any more Lanas from you, Lex! I just want you! And I want you to let me live my own damn life!"
"I'm going to!" Lex said, raising his voice for the first time. He stepped away. "That's why I'm doing this, Clark," he went on, calm again. "To let you live your own life. It's time to give up foolish affairs and get back on the path you're meant to traverse. No more distractions."
Clark's jaw was slack. His sight became unfocussed and he began to see through Lex instead of looking at him. "Is that we are?" he asked breathlessly. "A foolish affair? A distraction?"
"We're friends who took it a little too far, Clark, that's all. It's time to get back on track."
"Friends..."
"And I don't think it's any coincidence that you brought up Lana," Lex went on, making his way slowly and casually back to his original stance by the window. "I think we both know it's Lana who's going to make you happy, Clark. In the long term, I mean. You've already built a foundation of sorts. You should go for it."
"Lana...?" Clark knew he sounded dazed, because he could hear himself far, far away. But the distance didn't help him understand what was happening any better than he had when he'd felt he was part of it. "What does Lana have to do with...?"
"By all means, give yourself a few days to get your head on straight, but don't wait too long. A girl like Lana isn't going to be waiting around forever. You're lucky she's waited this long for you."
"Lana?" Clark blinked a few times, and felt his soul come crashing back down into his body, back down into the pain, and found anger afresh. "Is that what you think?" he asked, turning around in indignation. "That I'll just walk out of here, away from you, away from us, take a couple days off, then dive back into a life so ancient and foreign to me, I can barely recall it clearly? Is that how cheap you think we are? How common?"
Lex scoffed louder than he had before, sounding bitter and frustrated for the very first time, and he stared stonily out the window, his face completely hidden from Clark's view.
Clark stepped closer, only a couple of feet from Lex's back. "Is that what you think, Lex? Because if you do, I wanna hear it. I want you to tell me—to my face—that you don't think we're anything special. If you can do that, and not flinch, then maybe I'll know you're right. So tell me, Lex. Tell me how cheap we are."
"Clark!" Lex's angry profile was suddenly visible, and Clark could see his jaw clenching. He seemed to be struggling with himself to not say something, his lips pressing together as if they wanted to part, and he finally turned back, with difficulty, to the window. "Why do you have to make it so damn difficult?" he muttered.
"Well, I'm real sorry, Lex," Clark spat, "if I'm cutting into your day, but I'd appreciate a decent explanation for getting tossed aside like a used Kleenex."
Lex spun on him. "How dare you!" His eyes flashed with hot anger before his breath deepened and his voice dropped. "You son of a bitch. What right do you have?" Something changed in Lex's stance. He seemed to stand up taller without moving, as if someone was pulling on a thread attached to the top of his spine.
Clark steeled himself. It felt like something was coming. Something that was going to hurt.
"Why are you fighting so hard? This whole thing was just a fling to you from the beginning. Some adolescent experiment to understand your own sexuality, and I accepted that. Your love has always been for Lana..." He trailed off and turned back toward the window.
Clark wanted desperately to break in—to argue—but he wasn't sure that Lex would go on if he interrupted, so he held his ground unsteadily and kept quiet.
"But I knew that going in, too. Even when you used our need for secrecy as an excuse to spend more time with her and less with me, I accepted it. I took what I was given and I bit my tongue every time I wanted more. Every time I thought I deserved more."
He sounded choked for a moment. But then he pushed through it with an angry, strained tone. "I laid there... on my back, spread open like a sacrificed lamb and told you I loved you, and disregarded the look of horror I got in response. And then I bit my tongue again—every time I wanted to say it—so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable with me."
Clark's eyes slammed shut and he felt hot tears finally track their way down his face. He wanted to sink into the floor. He wanted to crawl away.
"I waited for you. I waited for you to grow out of Lana and into me, and I waited in vain. Even when I finally admitted to myself I was waiting in vain, I still waited. I watched you pull away, I watched you shorten our time, I watched you barely even talk to me, and I accepted it all. At first—" he broke off and laughed bitterly.
"At first, I actually didn't mind that you wanted to talk less and make love more. God, I'd felt frustrated for so long... I always wanted you as much or more than you wanted me. Every time. And Clark, believe me, I've treasured everything we've done together. But, god, it didn't take a genius to realize we hadn't really talked in weeks. You had every opportunity you could have wanted to tell me you loved me, but you never did. I finally had to admit that you never would. God, and as pathetic as it sounds, I accepted that, too. I decided it didn't matter. I'd take what I could get for as long as I could, and be grateful for it."
He stopped, sounding as if he was trying to catch his breath, and scraped his left palm over his lips. "I let the resentment pile up and just tried to ignore it for a while... And then—oh, god—and then I finally cracked and complained. For the first time ever, I actually got the balls to complain about what I wasn't getting from you. And you talked. You talked, Clark, and I swear to god, I just wanted the silence back. You wanted to talk about LexCorp. You wanted to know the things the media wants to know, but that I won't tell them."
Perhaps finally tired of talking to stained glass, Lex spun to face him. "What possible reason could you have to want to know those things?" he asked with narrowed eyes.
Clark couldn't speak at first, though he knew he was supposed to. When he did, it was quiet and weak. "Lex, I... I just wanted to show an interest in your work. You'd said that—"
Lex cut him off with a sharp flick of his wrist.
"It doesn't matter now, Clark. None of it matters." He took an obvious deep breath, let it out heavily, and looked Clark in the eye. "What matters... is that I fell, and you didn't. I don't blame you, Clark. It's just a liability I can't afford."
Clark's mouth continued to hang open, and his eyes continued to burn. His chest was so tight and hurt so badly, it was like Lex had jogged over and hit him in the sternum just as hard as he could with a giant sledgehammer made of meteor rock.
They'd been talking, arguing, and yelling at each other for half an hour. But this was what it was all about.
Not Lex misunderstanding Clark's involvement with Lana, not Clark spending less time with Lex to try to keep their cover intact, not that Clark was too young, not that the media would destroy Lex if they knew, not a single one of any of the things they'd talked about—but this.
Lex just didn't think Clark cared about him.
Clark worked his mouth and throat, trying to remember how to speak. But he could still only whisper. "It's not true."
Lex shook his head.
"It's not true, Lex." Clark's voice was just the smallest bit stronger. "I fell just as hard as you did," he said, clearly and slowly. "Maybe even harder."
Lex's lips twitched, then turned up satirically. He let out a laugh of derision and moved toward the window again, taking up his original stance yet again. His neck elongated as he hung his head. "I just wish you'd go, Clark."
Clark's eyes fell shut in pain, and burned with more prickling tears. He couldn't believe he was going to lose Lex like this. To time or distance, sure, or maybe because Lex fell in love with someone else, or got tired of him, or just couldn't stand having them as a secret anymore.
But because he'd never made it clear how much Lex meant to him? How was Clark supposed to live with himself knowing that?
He tried to force his eyes open, but they wouldn't go. So he spoke in the dark. "It's not a good enough reason, Lex," he said in a shaking voice. "Because it's not right. You're wrong. And I am not going to walk out of here because you have reasons that are wrong."
Lex scoffed again, which helped Clark's eyes finally open, and he turned his head just enough that Clark could make out a slanted profile. He looked perfectly sardonic. Perfectly hurt. "Clark, having a relationship is like selling a house," he said in a disparaging, mocking tone. "You can't achieve it with just a seller, and you can't achieve it with just a buyer. Both have to agree to the deal. And if one backs out of the deal," he spread his arms as if to present himself, looking cocky, "then you're no longer achieving the sale."
He turned fully around, arms still open, and looked at Clark dead on. Then, quickly, his arms fell to his sides with quiet slaps of skin on silk. "There's no sale here, Clark. We're both back on the market."
Clark was being made fun of, and he knew that, and he instinctively wanted to rail against it. But the least important thing that Lex needed to know right now was that Clark understood that break-ups ended relationships. He didn't need any help accepting this one. He just needed to stop it.
He swallowed and took a steady step forward. "What if I rewrite the contract?"
Lex flinched. It would have been nearly invisible to anyone who didn't know him, but Clark could plainly see that Lex was surprised at his approach.
He didn't respond immediately, just stood there, eying Clark as if he wasn't sure what to make of him. But when Clark didn't push, simply stood and waited, Lex's suspicion started to fade, and his expression softened. Clark could tell he wanted to listen, but wasn't certain that he should.
When he finally did speak, it was quiet and rough. "It would take a lot more than a few home improvements."
Clark shook his head, not liking where the analogy was going. He took another step forward and gestured downward with splayed fingers as if he was talking about the very floor they stood on. "Not this house, Lex. I've got a whole other one I wanna show you. I think it's closer to what you're looking for, but—" he broke off, almost choking on his own words, and swallowed down the fear in his throat. "Well, there are a few secret rooms. I'm not sure if you're gonna like them."
Lex hadn't been moving, but he seemed to pause nonetheless. He stared at Clark for a long time without blinking. Finally, his eyes began to shift. Clark could practically hear the wheels turning.
He knew he wasn't as good at painting an allegorical picture as Lex was, but what he lacked in subtlety, he made up for in colour. He was sure Lex knew just exactly what he was offering. The fact that it was taking him this long to respond was what was constricting Clark's throat. If he'd unknowingly pushed Lex so far that he wasn't even interested in learning Clark's secrets anymore, then there truly was no hope for them.
That was too bitter a pill to swallow.
Just when the silence had stretched itself so tenuous Clark was sure it would snap from the strain, Lex's eyes stilled. He raised his head and met Clark's gaze with confidence.
"Show me."
Clark breathed again.
"I think you should sit down."
Lex coolly slid his hands into his pockets. "I'd rather stand, thanks."
Clark very nearly flinched at Lex's stony tone before he remembered that Lex had only agreed to listen. Clark hadn't actually won anything here. At least not yet.
"Okay, whatever you want." He threaded his fingers together and twisted at them, rubbing at one palm with the opposite thumb. "Um... God, I'm not even sure how to start," he mumbled.
"Start at the beginning. Good a place as any."
"The beginning." Clark nodded at his feet. "Okay." He forced himself to stop fidgeting and dropped his arms to his sides. It was a struggle to meet Lex's gaze, but he did. "Lex, in the beginning..." he trailed off, finding one last moment in which to back out.
And then he watched it go by without regret.
"In the beginning, I stood brooding on Loeb Bridge. In the beginning, you drove too fast, were unable to dodge an obstacle in the road, and lost control of your car. In the beginning..." Breath caught in his throat, and he coughed it out. "In the beginning, you hit me dead-on at sixty miles an hour with your favourite Porsche."
Lex's eyes were as wide as Clark had ever seen them. When Clark stopped talking and silence reigned for just a few short moments, his lashes started to flicker as if he needed to blink, but couldn't bear to look away. Then he let out an audible exhale and seemed to physically wrench his gaze away.
"That was our first lie, Lex," Clark went on, his shaking voice starting to show a small sign of steadying. "I've told you a thousand since. I know you've told me some, too, but nothing like this. And I also know that right now, you're thinking that I'm admitting that I've been affected by the meteor rocks, like you. But I'm not."
Lex's head snapped up at that, his eyes still wide as they latched on to Clark's face.
"I wasn't. I'm something else. Something else altogether."
Lex's head trembled on his shoulders for a brief moment, and then he finally pushed something past his lips. "What are you?"
Clark swallowed roughly. His mouth was dry as the Sahara. "The last of my kind." He waited for a good ten seconds, but Lex didn't move or say another word. "I'm fr—"
"Clark, I think I need to—" Lex tried to step forward, but his legs moved like they were numb, and he fell.
He fell, but never landed. Clark sped over and caught him.
Lex jerked violently back at the purchase he suddenly had on Clark's chest, and slammed his spine into the window ledge. Clark winced, but Lex didn't. "Jesus, you're faster than I thought."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
"Clark, you're telling me you're an—... you're an alien."
Clark nodded seriously, careful to keep eye contact.
"From outer space."
Clark nodded again. "I came down with the meteor shower."
"In the ship!"
"Yeah... Lex, are you okay?"
"Are you kidding?" He scraped a trembling hand down his face then grabbed the windowsill with a death grip, and sat down on it. "I've spent so many years looking for evidence of extraterrestrial life. I've handed out grants and other—less official—financial support in insane amounts to search the stars with impunity. I've funded massive archeological efforts to seek out artifacts that may or may not have been left behind from previous visits from otherworldly beings. I've pored over books and controversial findings and the craziest theories I've ever heard—" his head snapped up and he looked Clark in the eye. "And where do I find the truth?" he asked, and laughed somewhat unstably. "In my own bed. In my own bed, Clark."
Clark hung his head. "I'm sorry, Lex. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I wanted to. So many times. I swear."
"My god, are you real?" Lex whispered.
Clark raised his head to gaze at Lex in confusion. "I'm real, Lex. I'm still me. I haven't changed."
"What else can you do?"
Clark shrugged. "Weird things. I can make fire with my eyes and hear things happening across town and lift up a truck with one hand, and you saw how fast I can run." He carefully walked forward, waiting for Lex to bolt. He was able to settle himself on the opposite side of the windowsill without it happening. "But none of that matters right now. The whole reason I'm telling you all this, Lex, isn't because of the secrets themselves. It's because of what keeping them was making me do... and not do."
Lex's eyes were still huge, and Clark couldn't bear to look into them anymore. He'd started this, and he had to finish it the way he'd planned. Even if Lex could only ever look at him as a freak or a scientific curiosity, he just had to get it all out. Just once. So he turned away and stared at his own feet while he talked.
"I couldn't be open with you. Not just about what I can do, or what I am, but about how I feel. I wanted to tell you that I loved you so many times, I just... I felt like such a hypocrite, Lex. How was I supposed to look you in the eye and tell you that you're the most important person in my life? How was I supposed to tell you that you mean everything to me, and I love you so much, I'd rather die the most horrible death than ever hurt you? How was I supposed to... How could I make my feelings for you clear while I lied to you every single day? What kind of man would that make me? I mean, it's always torn me up inside to have to lie to the people I love. But I loved you so much, I couldn't even bear to tell you I did. I couldn't bear to have you know that... and yet know deep inside yourself that I wasn't being truthful with you."
Clark took a moment to catch his breath and swipe at his eyes, which were burning and damp. His sniffle broke the short silence, and then he went on.
"Do you see, Lex?" he said, still talking to his own shoes. "That's why I never said ‘I love you.’ Not because I don't. But because I do so... much... that I couldn't even say it. I love you, Lex. I've never loved anyone like I love you. Not Lana, Lex, not anyone. And I don't care about LexCorp's secrets!" he added suddenly. "Keep them. Hide them. File them away. Tell me only what you want to, and nothing more. Tell me not to ask, and I swear I won't. Hey, I know about secrets better than anyone. I know how important they can be."
He stopped and took a deep breath. With some difficulty, he finally turned to look at Lex beside him—to see what effect he'd had, if any.
Lex was sitting much like Clark was: Head down, gaze on the floor. From Clark's angle, he looked expressionless.
Clark had already taken such a huge chance that it surprised him how hard it was to take one more small one. He reached out and touched Lex for the first time as himself. He gently took Lex's chin in his hand, and turned it toward him. He tried to prepare his heart for the incredible pain that would come if Lex cried out or pulled away or struck at him. He didn't do a very good job.
That was okay. He didn't need to.
Lex allowed himself to be moved, but he still didn't meet Clark's eyes. His gaze seemed to be focussed around the centre of Clark's chest.
"It's just..." Clark muttered, finding his train of thought again. "Now that you know mine, I don't know. I mean, I don't know if you can... still love me." He'd lost control now, his tears blurring his vision, his voice thick and almost completely choked off. He'd never been so terrified.
Lex didn't move for such a long time. It was so long, and so quiet, that Clark just knew it wasn't good. Lex wasn't going to hug him. Lex wasn't going to say, Clark, it's okay. I understand. Whatever was coming, it wasn't going to be that easy.
When Lex finally did move, it was only his eyes. They travelled up to meet Clark's gaze, and through the haze, Clark saw they were just as red and watery as his own felt.
"Clark..."
The whispered name put a shiver up Clark's spine, and then a frightening weight in his chest when it just trailed off into nothing. He watched Lex swallow with visible difficulty and take a deep, shaky breath.
"Clark... I have something to show you."
It wasn't at all the sentence he'd been expecting.
*
The Room's lighting being remarkably darker than the rest of the mansion was not a wasted metaphor. It had been Lex's big, dark secret for quite some time. Not as nasty as some, not as hidden as others, but it was the one that mattered.
It took a few seconds for Clark's eyes to adjust. Or maybe it didn't. Maybe it just took that long for speech to become possible for him.
"Oh, wow."
Lex closed the door with a quiet click behind them, and gestured for Clark to start down the stairs. He followed directly behind.
His heart was in his throat as he involuntarily saw his not-so-little obsession through the eyes of another. It was probably a bit disturbing that Lex had never noticed just how disturbing it all was.
His eyes lingered on the side of Clark's face, looking for any hint of reaction beyond the initial shock, but that was all he was getting.
He reached outward with a none too steady hand and gestured openly that Clark should feel free to look around. He received the quickest of glances in response, a flicker of a nervous smile, and then Clark carefully walked out into the middle of Lex's obsession.
Lex watched him make his way through, lingering here and there, touching a few things carefully, but not picking anything up. He never lost that same look of silent, wide-eyed shock.
Once he'd made his way to the opposite side, Lex could no longer keep still, and he began to walk through as well, narrating like a museum curator.
"I've been collecting pictures, artifacts, and pieces of the puzzle for over two years now," he started, his voice steadier than he would have thought it could be. "There are a couple of things that others procured for me," he gestured toward the large picture of Clark positioned like an overseer, "but most of it I got on my own. I hadn't known you very long when I started this... um..." He stumbled, not sure how to label it. He waved an open hand over it all vaguely. "Uh, collection?"
Clark's only answer was a very short smile that might as well have never been there.
"I visit it most days that I don't see you, and many days that I do." Lex wasn't sure he could go on while looking Clark in the eye, so he subtly skewed his seemingly random movements through the artifacts to bring himself directly in front of the recreation of the crash on the bridge. Everything else he said, he said to it.
"Sometimes I fool myself that this room is about me," he started quietly. "Other times... other times I fool myself that this room is about you. But over the past couple of weeks, coming here more and more often, consoling myself from feeling irreparably farther and farther away from you, I've finally accepted the truth."
Gathering his courage before him, he turned and faced Clark's wide-eyed countenance finally. His shaking hands stuttered into his pockets. "This room is about us, Clark."
Clark said nothing. He gave Lex a strange, unreadable look, and glanced around The Room again. "Lex..." he said without intonation, and shook his head.
Lex's heart beat so hard he could feel it all over his body. He thought it would jump out of his chest in fear. He wondered if Clark would see it as betrayal—Lex had agreed, after all, to stop investigating him. Or maybe Clark would think he was sick. Maybe he'd even be frightened. Lex wasn't sure which would be the worst thing to happen, and he wasn't sure he could handle any of them.
Clark shrugged. "I'm sorry. But I just don't see how anyone could come in here and... not reach that conclusion. I mean," he laughed once, quietly, "every single thing in here screams ‘us.’"
Lex blinked stupidly, taking a moment to process what Clark had said. Then he let out sudden disbelieving laughter at himself. "Trust you to see it clearly, Clark," he said, shaking his head at his own denseness, his own apparent denial of the obvious. "Trust you not to fool yourself."
Clark's expression grew sad and painful, and Lex's smile began to fade. "Oh, Lex," Clark said quietly. Then he unexpectedly spread his arms. "Look at who you're talking to, will you? All I've been doing is fooling myself! Believing that we could go on being together—that we could have a deep, meaningful relationship while I lied to you every day? And not even seeing it? I mean, not even seeing how I was driving you away with it?" He dropped his arms theatrically and fixed Lex with a one-sided grin. "Lex, come on. I respectfully submit that I am the king of fooling himself."
Lex chanced kidding around and gave a mock royal bow, complete with deferring wave. "My liege," he drawled.
Clark snorted a laugh. But he swallowed hard and lost his smile when Lex met his eyes again. He turned his head away and seemed to trip on the oversized picture of himself that held dominion over The Room.
"You... really like that picture, don't you?" he said wryly.
Though he wasn't being scrutinized, Lex felt suddenly embarrassed. He shrugged and looked at his feet. "Well, it really does capture you, Clark," he said quietly.
There was a silence and it was conspicuously relaxed—almost comfortable. Certainly more comfortable than Lex would have thought it could be, or even should be.
He looked up and watched Clark carefully. He stared, really, trying to decipher Clark's internal mood. Was he just hiding his feelings of revulsion? Merely holding back the betrayal welling up inside him?
"Not... that I'm anxious for a more volatile reaction," Lex started, and met Clark's eyes when they turned to him. "But I have to ask: This doesn't upset you?"
Clark shrugged casually. "It's kind of sweet," he said flippantly, and Lex raised an eyebrow. "Um... in a... creepy, obsessive kind of way. I think I like it."
Lex's lips twisted into a wry smile, and he chewed at the inside of his cheek.
Clark started to move again, silently taking things in—everything but the meteor rock, which Lex was beginning to notice he unfailingly avoided—and getting slowly closer to Lex. He finally settled in a spot right next to him and put his hands in his pockets, mirroring Lex's stance.
Lex found himself looking around The Room as if seeing it for the first time. The silence was surprisingly comfortable again, and Lex felt an unexpected intense rush of relief flood over him from head to toe.
For the first time in a long time, he honestly thought they were going to be okay.
It made Clark's next words pretty ironic. "I know what I said earlier was a lot to take in. It's probably too soon, but I just can't... help but ask. Are we going to be okay?"
Lex laughed once, quietly, and rocked back on his heels. He met Clark's questioning gaze with a smile. He didn't answer, and he didn't seem to have to.
Something slid into place, something they'd been pushing impatiently at for months, and Clark's smile showed he understood everything Lex hadn't said.
They watched each other for a long time, silent and smiling, and less than a foot apart.
When Lex could feel tranquillity reaching all the way into his bones, Clark chuckled quietly and leaned just a fraction closer.
"Did you feel that?" he whispered secretly.
Lex didn't lose his smile, but he felt mild confusion set in. Without moving his head, he let his eyes shift curiously. "...Feel what?"
Clark grinned widely and leaned forward again. "That shift."
After the shortest of pauses, Lex's smile grew as he realized with a sensation of warmth what Clark was saying. "Yeah, Clark," he breathed back. "Yeah, I did feel that."
Clark laughed a little. "Wasn't very smooth, was it?"
"Well," Lex rolled a shoulder, feeling his smile still prominent on his face. "It's a tricky clutch."
Clark's eyes sparkling in the light from his own portrait, Lex's half closed in idyllic peace, and both with their hands still in their pockets, they leaned forward, closed the gap, and kissed.