Disclaimer: Well...obviously not mine. Otherwise, I wouldn't need to write fan fiction now, would I?
Warnings: Slash. Age gap. Pretty much a long PWP.
Feedback:Voiceless009 -- It would be much appreciated!
Summary: Clark and Lex. In Paradise.
This was the best night out that Lex had had in a long time.
Metropolis was its same old self: bright and buzzing, dark and dangerous in all the wrong places, each street lined with bad memories -- some fucking brilliant memories, too -- but mostly bad, although they may not have felt that way at the time: the home that didn't feel like a home to Lex anymore.
And yet tonight he felt...connected to the light and life in the city in a way he never had before. Who would've guessed that the trips he had taken back here over the past year, while living in Smallville, had felt so wrong and unfamiliar because of the company? But that had to be it. Because when Lex was strolling those cold, streetlamp-lit streets with Clark, suddenly it felt like a really good place to be again. Like home.
Jesus, that was so sappy. Lex made a mental note to get drunk and fuck the nearest available female as soon as the opportunity arose. Just to secure his masculinity.
Lex hadn't believed it when Clark had come to the castle on Wednesday, all impossibly wide smiles and ridiculously bright eyes.
"They said yes, Lex!" he'd exclaimed.
"Did they understand the question?" Lex had asked.
But it had turned out that too-good-to-be-true wasn't as impossible as Lex had thought. Martha and Jonathan Kent, treasurer and president, respectively, of the Luthors Can't Be Trusted Club had actually agreed to let their son accompany Lex on his next trip into Metropolis.
So, that very Saturday, Lex had driven Clark -- and his two suitcases because, apparently, he hadn't gotten the memo about this only being a weekend break -- down to the city. They'd arrived just in time for Lex to spend a couple of hours enjoying Clark's boyish excitement over staying in Lex's penthouse, before taking a leisurely stroll to Lex's favourite restaurant, where Clark had sat tugging at his clothes self-consciously and looking guilty because, no matter what he ordered, it all seemed far too expensive.
The walk back, so far, had been really...well...nice.
In the past, 'nice' to Lex had meant boring. But tonight, with Clark, nice meant...perfect.
They had talked about random nothings: Clark's principal had been giving him a hard time lately; Lex was putting off firing an inept worker at the plant because the guy's ten-year-old daughter always smiled at him when they passed each other in the street. Lana was acting distant again -- Lex pretended that he was sorry to hear that. The shipment of bottled water from Wales was late this month -- Clark pretended it was a big deal.
Clark had told Lex a joke that he'd heard from Pete the day before and Lex had let out a bark of genuine laughter, despite having already heard the joke months before and not finding it at all funny then.
And now they were retiring to the penthouse -- Lex still unable to believe that half eleven didn't seem ludicrously early to him tonight -- to watch a couple of movies and, all going according to plan, pass out on the sofa together.
That sounded really, really good to Lex.
~
Clark hadn't realised.
Why had no one ever told him how amazing this place could be?
Why had Chloe, in all her endless chatter about the perks of Metropolis life over Smallville, never thought to tell him how...how great it truly was?
Why had Lex not invited him here sooner?
Why had he gone so long without experiencing the city with Lex -- who knew practically every inch of it -- by his side?
Best. Night. Ever.
And it wasn't just the breathtaking penthouse or the expensive dinner, or that Lex had ordered champagne and the restaurant staff hadn't even raised an eyebrow over the fact that Clark was only sixteen. The best part, without a doubt, of the whole night, was this walk.
Clark's belly was full, he was a little light-headed, and Lex was talking to him. Not lecturing him on Greek history, or concocting cold excuses to make Clark leave him alone, or sharing his dark, secret past with him and telling him with that intense look in his eye about their destiny, their future. Just talking. Like they were friends.
They were friends. Clark knew that. Hell, over this past year Clark had begun to think of them as best friends. But this was the first time it had ever really felt like it.
Crazy, how talking for half an hour about absolutely nothing of consequence could make Clark feel so connected to this strange man who always seemed so unreachable, even when he was standing right next to him.
When Lex had mentioned his father, and had actually looked down at his hands as he admitted that sometimes he just wished he could run away and know he would never be found, but that was impossible with Lionel, Clark had thought that maybe now was the perfect time to say what he had been waiting all night to say.
But then that shutter had gone down over Lex's eyes and it took a stupid joke Pete had told Clark to get the warmth back in them again. And by that time the delicate balance of the moment had been ruined. Clark couldn't help but feel more relieved than upset.
'Lex, I'm gay. Possibly. I love Lana and I love Chloe but I want you so bad it actually hurts sometimes and don't ask me why 'cause I'm so far from knowing, I'm on the other side of the planet and I haven't had a wet dream about a girl in over a year and there was this one time I caught a glimpse of Whitney's cock in the locker room and I had to sit doubled over pretending to have a stomach ache until my wood went away but I don't like to think about that and I'm sorry to dump this on you but I figured you'd probably be pretty accepting of this seeing as how you stare at me like you wanna eat me sometimes and I might be way off but I don't think I am so do you wanna maybe try dating or something?'
It lacked eloquence, but that summed everything up pretty neatly.
In its raw form, Clark didn't see that speech going down very well.
There should be a handbook for this kind of thing. Hell, maybe there was. Maybe he should check into that...
"Clark? You okay?"
Jeez. How long had he been lost in thought, leaving Lex to drown in the silence?
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Sorry."
Lex just smiled. No problem, he said without speaking.
"So...what are we doing tomorrow?"
A pretty weak attempt at kick starting the conversation, but Clark awarded himself bonus points for being brave enough to try.
"Well, I have to be in a meeting at nine--"
Oh yeah, Clark frowned. Business. The major damper on an otherwise potentially perfect weekend.
"--but there're plenty of things to keep you entertained at the penthouse until I get back."
Clark nodded, feeling a little better at the thought of trying out that Jacuzzi he'd seen in the bathroom. Hey, if he ever got around to confessing tonight, maybe he and Lex could try it out together.
"Then we can do whatever you want."
"Is there a park around here? Can we go there?"
"The park?" Lex raised an eyebrow, "I finally get you out of Smallville for a couple of days and all you want to do is find more grass and wildlife?"
Clark shrugged. He'd thought it might be kind of romantic. One particularly slow lunchtime working on The Torch, Clark had sneaked a peek at the magazine Chloe had left on the desk. It was opened to a page on the top ten most romantic ideas for a first date. A stroll through the park had been at number three. So much for that idea!
"But, sure, we can go there if you want. I'll admit, I haven't really been to the park in years. It might be pretty fun."
Clark knew that Lex was just trying to make up for possibly offending him, but it made his stomach flip to know that he cared enough to do that.
"Great."
"Hey, maybe afterwards we could go see a show. What do you think? Have you ever seen a play that wasn't put on by the Smallville High drama club? ...Clark? Hey, what's wrong? Clark? Did I offend you again? I'm sorry if I did. It wasn't my intention to..."
Clark was vaguely aware that Lex was talking to him but couldn't quite hear the words over the pounding of blood gushing through his ears.
Oh. My. God.
Clark had never seen one before. Well, there was that one time on a late night TV show...but...never in real life...
Still, there was no mistaking what it was. The pink neon light, proudly displaying the name: Paradise. The group of guys hanging around outside, their hands on much more intimate places on each other's bodies than could be found on the usual "guys' night out". The real clincher was the person in the tight, red dress: a little to tall, a little too broad-shouldered to be a woman, walking in through the front doors.
Oh, this was...perfect.
"What's the matter, Clark?" Lex's smooth-as-quartz voice cut through the buzzing in Clark's head, "Never seen a gay club before?"
"I, uh, I, well--"
"Do I take that as a no?" there was no mistaking the amusement in his voice.
Clark frowned. Sure, let's make fun of the sheltered Smallville hick.
"Come on, Clark."
Lex briefly squeezed Clark's shoulder and began walking away, trusting him to follow.
~
"Can we go in?"
Lex stopped in his tracks and spun around to fix Clark with a highly confused look, complete with raised eyebrow and slightly open mouth.
"I'm sorry?"
A pink tongue darted out to lick at lips pursed in discomfort.
"Can we go in, Lex? I know I'm," Clark lowered his voice, as if there could be spies anywhere listening out for his whispered confession, "underage. But, you could get me in, couldn't you?"
Lex exhaled slowly as he tried to think about this logically. Okay, there was a gay club. There was Clark. There was a gay club and Clark. Okay. Clark wanted to go into the gay club. Now, this was where Lex got a little lost...
"Clark..."
"Lex, come on." The vague, little smile Clark had been wearing earlier had faded, and his right foot was twitching nervously. "I didn't want to make a big deal out of this, I just thought it might be..."
Fun.
Lex knew what Clark had left unspoken. Jesus, the kid was just enjoying the freedom that Metropolis gave him, being away from the farm and chores and responsibility -- and that disapproving look on Jonathan Kent's face. He just wanted to sample all that the city had to offer -- why the hell did Lex have to put a damper on things? Make him feel self-conscious about his curiosity?
"Yeah, Clark. Sorry. Let's go in."
"Really?"
God. That smile. Not unlike a ten-year-old on Christmas morning.
Lex's dick stirred.
Oh, that's just great, he groaned inwardly. I'm a pervert.
"Sure." He smiled, composing his face into a stone wall. "Although neither of us are really dressed for it."
Clark looked down at his crisp blue shirt and immaculate black pants -- the clothes that Lex had bought him for tonight. He'd protested at first, of course, until Lex had assured him that he had to buy them: the restaurant had a very strict dress code and flannel was not part of it.
"What's wrong with how we're dressed?" he asked, looking Lex up and down, taking in his dark suit.
"Nothing at all. At the restaurant. We're dressed for dinner, Clark, not--"
Not for grinding against each other on a dance floor.
Not for hanging around a bar surrounded by half naked men.
Lex had to admit, Option Number 1 sounded pretty good to him in any attire. He wondered if Clark's newfound curiosity for the Metropolis gay scene would extend far enough to get him out there under the flashing lights and pounding music with Lex...
Fuck, yeah. Lex liked that idea.
This might be pretty interesting, actually. After all, Clark's sexuality had always been a little mystery that Lex enjoyed pondering. He was in love with Lana -- and, on occasion, Chloe, and that one brief period of time, Kyla -- and seemed for all the world to be every inch the straight, decent Kansas boy. But there were...instances where this image seemed to waver.
Like when Lex would be talking and would lean in a little too far and lick his lips slowly and Clark wouldn't push him away. He knew that Clark knew that these little actions meant something, because he never failed to get that little bit flustered: blush a little, or bite the inside of his cheek or tug absently at his shirt. But he never moved away, never shifted even slightly to break the connection between them.
So Lex had labelled Clark as "curious" and wondered just how curious his dear farm boy really was. Curious enough for a little experimentation? Or just curious enough to consider things but not enough to ever do any of them?
Besides, Lex often told himself, even if he was curious enough to want to dip his toes into this whole new world of possibilities, and Lex allowed him to do this with him, what would that make Lex?
Christ, how fucking low would you have to sink to let yourself be used as an experiment, to have one night of uncomfortable teenage groping, only to spend the rest of your life lamenting the loss of the very delicate friendship you had been building for over a year? Lex wasn't that fucking far-gone on the boy to let that happen.
Oh, who the fuck was he kidding? Of course he was!
If someone were to paint a psychic picture of the true nature of Clark and Lex's relationship, it would have Lex bent over a desk with a boner and his pants down, with Clark standing a little way behind him, holding a cat o' nine tails and looking a little bemused at the whole situation.
Oh, that's even better, Lex closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face, I'm a pathetic pervert.
"Who cares what we're wearing, Lex? Come on!"
Clark grabbed Lex's wrist and pulled him along behind him as they retraced their steps back to the club.
Better to just give in and go with the flow, Lex told himself.
Maybe Clark would have fun. Maybe this could be the night that Lex got his chance to -- ahem -- expand the boy's horizons. Maybe Clark would finally realise just what he'd been missing out on this past year by letting Lex's flirtation go only half-answered.
After all, Lex smirked to himself, Metropolis is my city. I owned all these clubs in my heyday.
He'd definitely owned this one.
Paradise. It certainly sounded familiar -- Lex must've been to this place before. He didn't remember anything about it, but that just proved that he must've had a fucking wild time here. All the best clubbing experiences in Lex's life were the ones he could only vaguely recall through the fog of the morning after.
Hey -- maybe Lex could go out on the dance floor, pick a hot guy out and writhe against him for a couple of songs: see if Clark got jealous at all. It was worth a shot, right?
Clark was in for an eye-opening night.
~
...Wow.
Up close, the pink neon light was gaudier than it had first appeared. It shone down on them and it amused Clark to no end that it made the white shirt beneath Lex's dark blue suit appear electric pink.
The bouncer at the door watched them nonchalantly as they approached. Clark let go of Lex's wrist in order to shove his hands into his pockets, suddenly incredibly nervous.
This was just like that one Friday night when Pete and Chloe had wanted to see what it would be like to get drunk and so had sent Clark -- who looked far older than fifteen -- to the liquor store to buy some booze. It was the same feeling now. Like the guy just knew how young Clark was by looking at him.
Of course, Pete and Chloe's plan had backfired because Mr Barry, who owned the store, had known Clark's parents. Clark doubted any guy who worked as the muscle for a gay club in Metropolis would know his parents and rat him out to them, but still his uneasiness didn't subside.
Thank god for Lex who was all fluid movement and unflappable confidence, who tucked his arm under Clark's, who just swept past the bouncer without even a glance his way, sweeping Clark along with him.
Unable to stop himself, Clark cast a nervous look back at the bouncer to find him watching after them. However, there was no suspicion on his face and all he did was wink at Clark before turning back around. Clark flushed and couldn't have stopped the goofy grin that spread across his face if he'd tried.
Once through the doors, Clark stood transfixed on the sight before him. He'd never really been in a proper club in his life, and definitely not one like this.
The flashing lights, the pounding music, the mass of people...humping against each other to the beat pumping out of the giant speakers all around the room.
Once again, it was Lex to the rescue. He hooked his arm even further into Clark's and directed him over to the centre of the room, where the bar stood. He sat him down on one of the stools and took the one beside him, shedding his jacket and laying it on the bar top.
"A little overwhelming, huh?" he leant across to speak in Clark's ear.
Clark nodded and swivelled around to watch that writhing wave of flesh out on the dance floor once more. He heard something that may or may not have been Lex chuckling at his fascination with all that was around him.
"Hey, Lex," Clark followed his example by getting as close as he could and talking directly into Lex's ear, "Do you want to dance?"
Lex stared at Clark for a long moment, face blank and mind obviously working as if going through a heavily complicated problem. Finally, he just sighed and shook his head.
Ouch. More than just Clark's ego had been left reeling with that one.
He turned back to the dance floor, if only to prevent Lex from seeing how badly he had taken that refusal. Man, that shouldn't have stung like that.
After a good, long few minutes Clark couldn't help but glance back around at Lex, if only to make sure he was still there, to see him signalling to the guy behind the bar for two of something. He smiled at Lex in gratitude but didn't even notice when a drink was placed down in front of him, his full attention once again fixed on other...sweatier...things.
"Hey!"
Clark looked to his left to see a pretty cute guy with spiked black hair and a charming smile sitting on the other stool next to him.
"Hi." Clark waved as well, because there was no way he could've been heard over the music.
Cute Spiky Guy said something to him, but Clark didn't catch a word of it.
"What?" he practically yelled back.
Cute Spiky Guy's smile widened and he gestured over to the dance floor and then tilted his head slightly in question.
Clark felt a little tingle run down his spine. He'd only just got there and already someone wanted to dance with him? This was...wow.
Clark shook his head, knowing he must've been blushing bright red at that moment. Cute Spiky Guy pouted and mouthed "Please?" Clark couldn't help grinning, but shook his head again.
The man then stood up and Clark felt a pang of regret at letting this opportunity pass him by just because he was such an enormous coward. However, Cute Spiky Guy didn't leave -- he took Clark's hands in his own and began to gently tug him up. Apparently people in Metropolis weren't used to being told "no".
Clark looked over at Lex, asking permission with his eyes. Lex finished off his drink in one smooth motion and then shrugged at him as if to say "Go ahead -- what do I care?" Clark smiled, but felt his spirits dampen a little when he realised just how much he would much rather be getting up to dance with Lex. But...well...he had tried, and Lex had been decidedly less than enthusiastic over that idea. That shouldn't have hurt as much as it did.
Just like Lex's obvious lack of concern over the fact that Clark was going to dance with someone else shouldn't have made Clark want to put his fist through the heavily varnished bar top and scream: "I thought you liked me?!"
He followed Cute Spiky Guy out into the crowd, felt the warmth of the hand enveloping his own; felt this warmth spread all the way down to his toes, and any residual nervousness slowly melted away.
Screw Lex. Screw him for not wanting this; wanting me.
He'd show him. Show him just what he was missing.
~
Fuck Clark. Fuck him for doing this to me!
"And fuck me for letting him." Lex muttered into his now empty glass.
And just why exactly did he turn him down? Wasn't the main reason he had even agreed to go in here to have an excuse to assess Clark's attraction -- if there was any at all -- to Lex?
He could be...rubbing...against Clark at this very moment, hidden in plain sight between the masses of men doing the same thing around them. That possibility was the other major factor in Lex's acquiescence to Clark's desire to be here -- so what the fuck was wrong with him, turning him down?
"Yes" had been on the tip of his tongue when Clark asked him. But that stupid, stupid fear in the back of his mind had pushed its way to the front and made him do the wrong thing.
And now Clark was...fuck...
...Dancing with that moron with the spikes. Letting the pathetic piece of shit hang all over him. Shit!
Well, not so much dancing as standing awkwardly while the moron with spikes gyrated against him.
You can take the boy out of Smallville, but you can't take Sm--
Okay, so Clark was beginning to loosen up a little and swing his hips in rhythm with the music. Okay, so he let that idiotic stranger put his hands on his swaying hips. Okay, so he let him lean in really close and whisper something right up against his ear.
Lex hadn't even been that close to Clark before, to press their cheeks together like that.
Idly he wondered what the spiky-haired prick's name was, and dwelled upon how easy it would be to destroy everything he held dear.
After almost fifteen minutes Lex was beginning to get seriously pissed off. He'd thought Clark would dance one song and then come back to the bar -- read: back to him -- but it didn't look like that would be happening anytime soon.
When Spikes finally ducked out and retreated to a booth in the corner, Lex was sure Clark would be returning any second -- red in the face from more than the effort it took to dance like that for four consecutive songs and hardly able to meet Lex's eyes through the embarrassment.
It was when the tall, built guy in the bandana suddenly grabbed Clark from behind and started teaching him a whole new style -- which to Lex's horror had more in common with the mechanics of fucking than it did of dancing -- that Lex knew that he was in for a long, long night in Hell. ...A hell he had willingly walked into. And...just why had he?
Lassie, come home. Lex thought morosely as he signalled for a refill.
~
I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto.
Clark was in a crazy, upside-down world where people thought he was hot and wanted to dance with him and much more besides. Why the hell had no one told him about this magical place before?!
He supposed he should be more concerned about Cute Spiky Guy's disappearance but, truth be told, he couldn't even remember when he'd been replaced by Shiny Chest Man, who looked like he'd been dancing for hours but wasn't ready to take a breather just yet, and who was clad only in a pair of pants so tight they looked ready to split, and who had just blindsided Clark, grabbed his ass and pulled him up against his crotch.
Clark was only just getting over the shock and instinctive urge to pull away from this stranger's...bulge...when that guy also disappeared into the raging sea of bodies to be replaced by...
~
Okay, so there was no point in trying to deny the fact that he was jealous. Lex had always told himself that his cold attitude towards Chloe Sullivan and the fun little names he liked to use to refer to Lana when no one was around to hear was just a natural thing to have. After all, there seemed to be no women in Smallville who didn't end up causing him harm -- even if inadvertently in cases such as Amy's. Lex's recent animosity towards the fairer sex was just one of the products of a highly traumatic year.
Now there was no way Lex could explain his sudden hatred of every single fucker in this building without acknowledging that he was, in fact, insanely jealous of all these bastards who could watch Clark, rake their eyes over every perfect inch of that body, find ways to touch him using the excuse of dancing, when Lex was the one fucking person who couldn't do the same.
The only person who looked at Clark and saw more than this hot, sensual creature with a body that would put any god in history or myth to shame.
The only person who even noticed how, every so often, he would pause for a moment or mess up the rhythm or a number of other telltale signs that he was not as at-ease in this situation as he seemed and was this close to mumbling some excuse and hurrying away to the safety of the bar to blush and avoid eye-contact and try to forget what a spectacle he'd just been making of himself.
The only person who had seen him in his plaid and jeans, standing with a pool cue clutched in his hands, looking uncomfortable because he was only supposed to have been delivering the week's produce and really should've been home by now.
The only person who'd seen him in his pyjama bottoms, the morning after an event that the Luthor in Lex just couldn't bring itself to class as a sleepover, stretched out on the sofa watching cartoons and eating the really expensive ice cream from the bottom of Lex's freezer for breakfast.
The only person in the whole fucking room who wanted him for more than just that amazing body and effortless charm.
The only person who saw Clark as imperfect, who knew that he lied and made bad choices and could be so damn selfish sometimes -- although usually unintentionally -- it made you want to punch him and walk away from him forever.
The only person who knew all of this and still wanted him more than anyone or anything else he had ever known.
The only person who would never have him.
Christ! He hadn't been in this frame of mind before they came in here! Fuck, he'd actually been pretty optimistic for his and Clark's future -- as friends, or otherwise.
The only reason he even agreed to this was because he wanted to test Clark -- test his reactions to all that he saw and experienced, try to gauge whether his assumption that there was at least a tiny part of the boy that wasn't as straight as a ruler was way off or not.
He'd also entertained the idea of being the one in Clark's shoes: leaving the kid to stare after him as he danced and touched and thrust and all but fucked every man he could out under the spinning lights.
Fine. If he was one hundred percent totally fucking truthful, the thought of possibly being able to make Clark flush with jealousy as he saw this scene unfold in front of his inexperienced eyes had been the most delightful thing that Lex could remember thinking in years.
And the Lex That Was would've gone further than just thinking about it.
The Lex That Was would've been instantly recognised on entering the club and found himself barraged with desperate offers of dances, drugs and quickies in the bathroom.
The Lex That Was fucking owned the Metropolis club scene.
The Lex That Is just didn't compare.
All he'd managed to do was to show himself just how ridiculously possessive he was of something that wasn't his.
Great job, Lex -- you already knew that!
~
...Mr Leather. He was kind of scary, and the whip attached to his belt was a little disconcerting, but by then Clark was beginning to lose any reservations over who he let get close. This was a-freakin'-mazing! These people wanted him. He could see it in their eyes, tell by the way they stared solely at him and ran their hands over his body and...this was unlike anything Clark had ever experienced.
This wasn't Chloe and her girly crush. This wasn't Lana and her hot-cold indecisiveness. This was something tangible: real heat. Real want.
Clark cast a look back over to the bar, wishing his hair wasn't sticking to his forehead, covering his eyes. He wanted to see Lex. See if he was looking at him. See if he was affected at all by this display. He wanted to make eye contact with him, make a connection between them across this room, try to tell him with just a look how this was all for him.
All for you, Lex.
Hope you're paying attention.
Hope you know how much I want you out here with me.
A hand sliding down to clutch at his right ass cheek brought Clark's head snapping back around.
Which one was he on to now?
Oh, right. Short But Hung, whose spandex was stretched so tight across his crotch, absolutely nothing was left to the imagination. God, the man put porn stars to shame! ...Clark assumed.
"Hey, baby..." the guy suddenly yanked Clark down to a low enough level that he could talk directly into his ear.
Clark tried not to instinctively pull away when Short But Hung's tongue flicked out against the shell of his ear, and when the man's next words were whispered deep and throaty, Clark's eyes widened and the crazy hammering of his heart in his chest was no longer a purely pleasant sensation.
No.
No, no, no.
This was not how things were supposed to go.
He was supposed to dance a little, show off for Lex who he hoped was watching, and then -- all going well -- enjoy the consequences of baiting a Luthor.
Being asked to "go somewhere a little more private" by a forty-odd-year-old guy and having absolutely no clue how exactly to turn him down without appearing like a huge jerk was not part of the plan!
No, no, no, no, no!
~
Lex liked to consider himself -- well, okay, he didn't like to consider it, but couldn't deny that it was true -- something of an expert Clark-watcher.
So when the latest guy -- some short bastard who was miles too old to be wearing anything as tight as spandex -- had said something in Clark's ear and Clark's body had jerked away by just a fraction, Lex knew exactly what had happened.
Frankly, he was surprised that it had taken this long for someone to proposition Clark. He could tell by the looks on some people's faces that they had all been thinking about it since the moment they'd laid eyes on him.
Well. This had to be stopped. Right now.
You've had your fun, Clark, but this has gone far enough.
Lex had to step in. This could be potentially very dangerous. Who the fuck was this guy anyway? He could be a psycho. He could be a rapist. He could just be angling for a way to get Clark on his own and then--
Best case scenario, the guy's just looking for mutual blowjobs or something. Not likely, but possible. But...Clark wasn't ready for that. Even if -- and it was at least possible, judging by the way he'd been dancing for the past half-hour, and didn't Clark ever get tired? -- he felt that he wanted to accept this man's proposition, there was no way Lex could let him go through with it.
A quick, dirty fumble in a club bathroom was not a good memory to have of your first time. Lex knew.
He had to put an end to this nonsense. For Clark's own good. Jealousy didn't come into it.
Really.
~
"Uh, listen," Clark knew he couldn't be heard over the all-consuming music but hoped to get his message across via body language if nothing else, "I don't think that would be a good idea. I'm gonna go sit down and maybe you should find someone else who--"
Short But Hung just grinned lecherously and pulled him flush against his hips.
"Or you could just grope my ass some more." Clark frowned and firmly grabbed the guy's hands and pushed them away from him.
Short But Hung didn't seem to be getting the message. Instead of keeping his hands where Clark had put them, he just moved them up to his face to try and draw Clark in for a kiss. His tongue was already out and wriggling. Clark wrinkled his nose and pulled back.
Romantic.
Suddenly there was a strong, solid pair of arms snaking around Clark's waist from the back. If Clark had been anyone else, he would've been worried that he was being ambushed. As it was, he just hoped he wouldn't be forced to hurt any of these guys tonight.
Clark was not having fun anymore.
He looked over his shoulder to tell the guy to back off or else, when he realised--
"Lex!"
Lex just smirked at him and squeezed his waist tighter, leaning in to plant a wet kiss on the side of Clark's face. And just who the hell actually used tongue when they kissed you on the cheek? God, the man was just whole new realms of sexy.
"Back off," Lex's voice managed the cut straight through the music: not loud, but commanding and unmistakable all the same, "He's taken."
~
Oh, Jesus.
This wasn't one of my better plans.
Just hope Clark doesn't take this the wrong way...
Yeah, that's right, Golden Oldie. Fuck off. Walk away while you still have legs.
Oh god, what do I do now?
~
Oh. My. God.
Yeah, back off, man! I'm taken!
...Oh my god. I'm taken! By Lex! Lex takes me! Lex has taken me! I am Lex's!
Yeah, that's right, Short But Hung. Slink away. I am taken.
Best. Night. Ever.
~
Lex hoped the smile he sent Clark's way appeared how he intended: apologetic, in case he had intruded upon something Clark had rather he'd stayed out of. He hoped it didn't seem at all...well...lecherous. Possessive. Or held any of the other multitudes of emotions he was feeling right now.
Clark returned the smile and Lex couldn't even hide the immense relief that flooded over him. He was forgiven.
~
Clark felt his heart flutter when Lex smiled at him. Oh, god. It had worked. Lex knew. He knew and he really, truly wanted him.
Clark beamed back at him, saying wordlessly, I'm yours, Lex.
~
Needless to say, when Clark took Lex's hands in his own and placed them on his hips, Lex was a little confused.
When Clark put his own hands on Lex's hips, he was beginning to get the idea.
Music filtered back into Lex's world and Clark was swaying in time to the upbeat tempo. God, Lex wanted to give in to this...
Just the way he remembered it. The music, the lights, the heat. But better. Because this wasn't some nameless gold-digger looking to cause a scandal and then blackmail Lex for their silence. This wasn't some drugged up loser he would let fuck him in the alleyway outside and only remember the next day because it hurt when he sat down.
This was Clark. His Clark. His for tonight. His for this song.
...Shit.
He couldn't do this.
Clark was...well, he wasn't himself. Clark Kent didn't dance with men, and he certainly didn't dance with Lex.
Drugged? That was possible.
Not his drink, because that hadn't been touched.
But that spiky-haired asshole had been running his hands all over Clark's face and it would've been easy to slip something into his mouth. Or there was that new drug circulating the clubs that everyone was talking about that you could inhale and not even know.
Or...or...Jesus, it didn't matter how far-fetched the theories were! Clark wasn't acting like himself at all and that was reason enough to be suspicious.
Lex grabbed Clark's shoulders and stilled him. Clark looked at Lex, breathing heavily. Damn. Lex couldn't handle this. He couldn't see him properly, couldn't talk to him, couldn't assess the situation clearly.
"Come on, Clark," Lex spoke directly into his ear, and pointed, "To the bathroom."
~
The...bathroom?
Clark's dick most definitely liked that idea.
~
Lex dragged Clark along behind him, not apologising when he knocked shoulders with about ten different guys who just didn't manage to leap out of the way fast enough.
The heavy bathroom door was barely swinging shut behind them before Clark had Lex with his back up against it.
"Clark, wha--mm!"
A pair of hot, moist lips on his own, a strong tongue prying his mouth open and slipping inside, and Lex forgot the question he never got to ask. It hardly even registered that they might not be alone in here.
Clark pressed every inch of their bodies together and Lex shuddered in pleasure at the pair of rough hands that cupped his skull and ensured the kiss could not be broken. The fact that Clark was hard seemed inconceivable to Lex -- Did he know where he was? Who he was doing this to? With?
There was that shrill, nagging voice hiding somewhere in Lex's mind that kept telling him, unhelpfully, how this was wrong: Clark was riding high on adrenaline, and perhaps some illegal substance, and couldn't possibly know what he was doing.
"Clark--" Lex managed to free his mouth for only a moment before it was reclaimed in a fiery kiss.
Jesus Christ. What am I supposed to do?
He was only human, for God's sake! How the hell could he be expected to be subjected to this...this torture, and not give in to the pleasure?
Fuck it.
Lex pushed that annoying voice deeper into his subconscious and, on Clark's next thrust, he responded in kind and pushed his tongue as deep into Clark's wide open begging-for-it mouth as it could possibly go. Clark made a guttural keening noise somewhere deep in his throat, and let his mouth go slack so that Lex could control the kiss.
So many, many things that needed to be asked and said and...this wasn't helping anything! This wasn't constructive. This was possibly the most destructive thing to ever happen to Lex and Clark's relationship and yet, there was still that rebellious thought that managed to push all other thoughts and concerns and fears to the back of Lex's mind: Nothing that felt this fucking amazing could possibly be harmful.
Lex knew this wasn't true, but he was willing to pretend it was if it just meant he could keep Clark here in this moment with him, pinning Lex to the door and making him submit to the long, slow, hard thrusts of Clark's hips, and yet letting Lex dominate his mouth in return.
It was a beautiful demonstration of trust, this balance of power, and -- for the moment -- that was all that Lex cared about.
It was when Lex squeezed his hand into the tight space between their thrusting bodies in order to trace the hard outline of Clark's erection only to feel him suddenly hesitating, that he realised how much this really wasn't about giving in and letting Clark do this to him -- it was about how this was Lex's one and only chance to ever have his beautiful farm boy like this.
This couldn't end. Not now! Not like this!
If Clark was looking for a night of escapism then Lex would oblige. He'd assume the role of experienced teacher and let Clark used him as he wanted, and pray that -- when whatever madness this was had worn off -- their friendship wasn't completely ruined.
With this in mind -- the knowledge that this was not only the perfect opportunity, it was the only opportunity -- Lex pushed Clark away and switched their positions so fast, Clark looked truly shocked to find that he was now the one against the door.
Pausing only to send him a fleeting smirk, Lex dropped to his knees, unzipped Clark's pants, and reached inside to pull out that lovely instrument that had been the source of so many fantasies and dreams.
The reality didn't disappoint.
Lex ran a teasing finger once from the base to the tip and couldn't suppress the thrill that ran through him that he could make Clark shudder and moan like that just with one touch.
"Pay close attention, Clark," he hoped he didn't sound too breathless and out of control, "I hope you're taking notes."
He leant forward until his face was less than an inch away from that gorgeous, straining dick looking so, so desperate for more attention. Breathing on it softly and enjoying the way Clark thrust his hips forward in response, Lex chuckled quietly to himself before opening his mouth and crossing yet another barrier.
~
"Aah! Lex!"
Clark threw his head back and held his arms out in front of him, unsure where to put them. Lex's head? Would that be too presumptuous?
He finally settled them lightly on Lex's shoulders. Lex apparently approved, because he suddenly took Clark completely into his mouth in one smooth motion.
Oh god, oh god, oh please--
"Lex!"
There was heat and wetness and, oh god, there was suction and...and a tongue that flicked and brushed against his sensitive skin.
Lex drew his head back slowly, dragging his tongue tightly up across Clark's dick, leaving a trail of slick saliva in its wake. Reaching the head, he swiped his tongue across the slit once, twice, then wiggled the tip against it.
A low cry bubbled out from the back of Clark's throat and Lex's slight wince was the only indication that Clark had grasped at his shoulders perhaps a little too hard.
"Lex, I'm--"
Clark's apology was cut off as Lex swallowed him down again, short-circuiting Clark's brain and rendering him unable to form any noise more advanced than a strangled moan that sounded something like "More!"
Suddenly Lex's arms were slipping between Clark and the door, cupping his ass and making his dick slip even further down his throat.
"Aah!"
There was a wet pop as his dick slid free, as well as an accompanying grunt of displeasure from Clark, and suddenly Lex was pulling him forwards by the hips, pivoting him, and slamming him into the diagonal wall in one swift movement.
Clark's breath escaped in a harsh huff. His head was spinning and it felt like pure electricity shooting up his cock. Lex was good. Lex was amazing. Lex was...obviously experienced. Maybe he should ask about that...
God. The way his mouth pursed and clung, the way his tongue did those beautiful things to him, the way his...just...everything. Lex was everything. He was perfect. He was right.
Oh god, so close. He was so close.
Orgasm had crept up on Clark but now it was imminent and he couldn't even find the voice to warn Lex. He dragged his fingertips up over Lex's shoulders, his neck, his cheek, finally resting on his head. Maybe Lex was so good at this he would be able to tell. Just from this.
Neither of them heard the door open, and the first sign that anyone was nearby was a short laugh of amusement. Clark looked around to see a blond man in a mesh top standing behind the half open door.
"Hey, sorry, guys. Don't mind me -- just need to take a pi--"
Clark felt Lex's whole body stiffen and instinctively turn so there was less chance of him being recognised. Clark growled. He was so. Damn. Close.
"Fuck off!" he snarled, reaching out to slam the door shut.
There was a yelp of surprise and a muffled sound that may possibly have been the guy slamming into the wall outside the door. Maybe Clark had overdone it a bit. But, god, he didn't care.
As soon as the door swung shut, Lex snorted softly and wrapped his lips around the head of Clark's cock once more and sucked. Hard.
A blinding light behind his eyes and Clark was coming, harder than he could ever remember, so much more intense than when it was his own hand bringing him off.
"Lex!" he gasped hoarsely as he brought his hands away from the flawless, smooth head, afraid of what he might do in a moment of such little control.
He shot into Lex's mouth -- that incredible mouth that took everything that Clark had to offer -- and when he looked down, the look in Lex's eyes almost undid him. He was relishing this.
Finally, once Clark was fully spent and trembling from his release, Lex rose to his feet with grace and flawless ease, despite the fact that spending so long kneeling on the hard floor would make anyone else's joints protest under the strain. Clark doubted Lex's knees would ever have the audacity to protest to him.
Once he was standing, he looked Clark straight in the face and Clark realised that Lex's mouth was still full of semen. He motioned weakly for Lex to spit it out in the sink but Lex just smirked -- managing that even with a mouth full of spunk -- looked into Clark's eyes, and swallowed.
Clark's dick twitched painfully and he wished one of his special alien abilities was instant recovery. Because, damn, that was...
Lex pushed himself against Clark, reminding him that he was still hard. Clark frowned at his own selfishness -- standing here thinking about how much he wanted another orgasm when he hadn't even given Lex one yet.
He unzipped Lex's pants and slipped his hand inside. Maybe he should've been surprised that Lex wasn't wearing any underwear, but he would probably have been more shocked if he had.
"Yes, Clark. Stroke me."
Clark blushed a little, and not entirely in arousal. God, Lex talked dirty during sex.
Why did I not see that coming?
He wrapped his large hand around Lex's erection and began stroking him. Judging from the little sounds he was making, Lex seemed to be pretty close to the edge already, so there was no teasing, no light touches. Just long, firm jerks that had him arching up into Clark's hands.
"Yeah. Fuck. So close. So hot. You made me so hot."
On a whim, highly interested in Lex's foreskin, Clark drew it back and rubbed his thumb over the head of Lex's cock. He cried out -- actually made a noise louder than any Clark thought he had made -- and began to tremble.
"Again, Clark. Shit."
Clark obliged and Lex was coming. Even when the wetness burst against his hand, it still didn't seem possible. When Lex pulled Clark down for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss with tongue and teeth, it started to feel real.
Finally, the heat and frenzy died down and Clark and Lex pulled apart. Suddenly the light in the bathroom seemed unbearably bright and Clark had to fall back against the wall and put his hands over his face for a moment, trying to stop his legs from shaking and his head from spinning.
When he looked up again, Lex was leaning against the row of sinks, looking at him intently. Clark almost flinched away from the intensity in those sharp, blue eyes but forced himself to keep the eye contact. He wasn't ashamed of what they'd just done. Or afraid. He'd gotten just what he wanted and Lex needed to know that.
"Clark? Did you really tell that guy to fuck off?"
Clark, who was only relieved not to have a more difficult question, managed to laugh weakly, nod and tremble against the tiled wall.
"Well, you are just full of surprises tonight, aren't you?"
Clark grinned.
~
As soon as Lex felt as if his legs could support him again, he pushed off of the sink and ran a hand over his head, his palm becoming damp with the sweat that coated the flushed red skin.
Well, he assumed he was flushed. Lex glanced over at the mirror above the sinks and didn't know just what degree of horror he should be feeling to find that he was, indeed, bright red from the top of his head down to his shoulders. It was worse than he thought.
He looked...like he felt.
Overwhelmed.
"Holy crap, Lex." Lex watched in the mirror as Clark came up behind him, paused for a moment as if wondering whether he should put his arms around him, and ultimately decided just to put one hand on his shoulder. "Look at us."
They both looked overwhelmed.
...But not drugged. Clark's eyes were clear and alert.
Well, thank fuck for that. Lex wasn't sure he could handle any accusations about taking advantage.
Lex took a deep breath. "We should go."
"Go? Or go go? Out of the bathroom, or back to the penthouse?"
"Well, as young as night still is, I think I'm all partied out for tonight." He smirked self-deprecatingly, "I must be getting old."
"We look..."
"Like we just fooled around in a club bathroom." Lex felt smug that he was able to make Clark blush even harder than he already was. "But that's okay. It's too dark for anyone out there to tell. ...But we should probably get out of the bathroom as soon as possible -- I'm sure everyone comes in here to fuck, but I could do without the publicity."
Clark didn't say anything, so Lex took this as compliance, patted him on the shoulder and headed out of the door. He felt a tug on his arm and found himself back inside, looking up into Clark's beautiful face. He looked conflicted.
"Lex, this was..."
"A mistake?"
Clark stared at him.
"Is that what you think?"
Lex turned to avoid the gaze, but Clark only grabbed his chin and forced him to stop hiding. He wasn't sure quite what was showing in his eyes, but he knew that Clark saw it all, every last detail.
"This wasn't a mistake, Lex."
"No?" because Lex just had to make things more difficult for himself. "Then what was it?"
Clark thought for a moment.
"A confession."
That wasn't what Lex had expected at all.
"Yours or mine?"
"Both," Clark answered immediately, but then ducked his head a little to glance at Lex through his fringe, "Right?"
Lex didn't know what to say. So he kissed him. Clark wrapped his arms around Lex's neck, and they both knew.
They knew where they stood.
~
As they stepped back out into the night, Lex released Clark's hand and Clark tried not to feel too upset. There were still hidden journalists and cameras and tomorrow's headlines to consider. Even if Lex was lucky enough not to have been spotted going into or coming out of a gay club (not to mention on his knees sucking off a guy in the toilets), the journey back to the penthouse surely wouldn't be so lucky if Lex and Clark spent it all over each other.
It felt strange, to suddenly be once again part of the real world, where Clark was just a teenage farmer who everyone regarded as odd, but undeserving of too much of their attention. The world where there wasn't a crowd of people waiting to pounce on him, rub themselves all over him, and claim him for themselves.
He looked down at Lex, whose faint smile and smouldering gaze that he directed up at Clark told him that it was alright. Because he wanted Clark. He wanted to claim him, take him, have him. And tonight he would, in every conceivable way, style and setting.