Title: Craving Red
Summary: Red kryptonite has an unexpected effect on Clark. Disclaimer: These characters are owned by the WB, DC Comics and Millar/Gough. No infringement or profit is intended. Huge thanks go to my beta readers Ilexa, Lenore, Reetchick, and Diluvian. Their comments greatly improved the story.
This AU takes place between season two and season three. It incorporates some of the events of Exile. It's the first story in a trilogy.
1. Craving Red
2. Fangs for the Memories
3. Sharper Than A Serpent's Tooth
Daniel? David? He can't remember the guy's name. Doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is his ass gripping Kal like a jumper that changed his mind at the last minute. The smell of sex coating his pores, waves of heat radiating off writhing bodies, slick rapture surrounding his cock. He thrusts his hips in time to the loud rhythmic bass of the music. The slap of flesh, moans of others, and excited heartbeats in the back room a dreamy accompaniment. Pushing, pushing toward something, he grabs the ass in front of him harder, ignoring the resulting grunt of pain; something new, something different he's been feeling lately, a need he can almost taste, almost touch. He bends closer, spreading his knees for a better angle, licking the man's neck. Closer, he's closer to it now. A scent, a warmth, something.
He sits back, bringing the shorter man with him. Kal nuzzles the man's neck, drawn to the pulsing movement, a scarlet butterfly trapped under the skin. He wants to sink into that sound, that two-beat driving resonance, so hot, so red. He bites, instinctively snaking his hand over the man's mouth to cover the noise of his struggles. Scalding, sweet, wet, better than anything he's ever known. The universe pours into his mouth, the inexorable pull of a black hole that sends him down a crimson event horizon. He can never stop, never get enough. Drowning in it. No thought. No Kal. Only red. Convulsions beneath him send tremors through his cock. Harder. Needs it harder. His fingers punch through skin, hooking on ribs as he rides him. Mindless. Only need exists. Pulling on the bone, shuddering in ecstasy as he comes into the dying body.
Kal lets him down slowly, hiding the wounds against the floor. Stares at his fingers curiously. The blood looks black in the dim light. He remembers the man's name now. It is Delicious, he thinks as he licks his fingers clean, sucks the blood off the ring. Wonders what the others in the room would taste like as he watches them.
He doesn't remember much about that week. He only pieces it together later through bits he hears on the news and in the paper. "Metropolis Club Killer." "The Club Zone Runs Red." "Dance of Death."
The first clear thought he has is pain. He immediately looks around for green kryptonite, then just as suddenly shuts his eyes as beams of light shoot into his head. He doesn't know where he is and doesn't care; he only cares about making the pain stop. His skin burns and itches, and he suddenly has an image of bacon curling as it fries in the pan. He really wishes he hadn't thought that, because now he feels like he's going to puke. Turning his head to keep from throwing up on himself, he falls, landing with a thud and vomits all over his arm anyway. The smell of blood fills his nose. Where the hell is he? He tries to reach and wipe himself off, and realizes his left hand doesn't hurt. Crawling for miles, he slowly makes his way left by agonizing inches until he no longer feels like he'ss going to burst into flames from the inside out.
When he wakes up he feels fine. He looks up and sees slats, and wriggles out from under a bed. The carpet is stiff with dried blood. He turns on a lamp, and realizes he's in what, without all the gore and dead bodies, is probably a nice apartment. There are two men on the bed, one with his throat torn out, the other with his chest ripped open. Another is bent over a couch, most of the skin on his back missing. Needles and pills are scattered around the room. It stinks with the smell of rotting meat and bowels released in fear. They are all nude, including Kal, who is covered in dried blood and less pleasant substances. Obviously the first thing to do is to get cleaned up. Judging by the color of the sky out the window, it looks like the sun has just gone down, although there is something odd about the way that looks too.
Kal tries to think while he showers. There has to be an answer to all this. Laws ceased to have any meaning when he put the ring on, but he's never woken up with brain matter under his fingernails before, he thinks, scrubbing his hands. He feels bad about the guys dying, but there is no point dwelling on it. It isn't like that would help them any. He'll try to be more careful in the future, and he's a little concerned about the missing memories, but guilt won't help anyone.
The ring makes everything so much clearer, even if it doesn't help the growing feeling of emptiness inside him. He watches the crimson colored water go down the drain. Want. Take. Have. He frowns wondering why that sounds so familiar. No, he thinks. It can't be. He quickly steps out of the shower and examines himself in the mirror. He still has a reflection, but there's also the faint taste of blood in his mouth, and he'd bet the farm it isn`t his. Opening his mouth, he inspects his canine teeth. They've always been impressive, but they are definitely longer now. The scar has been fading for a while and is finally gone, which he's thankful for. He's gotten sick of everyone asking about it. He stares at his ring. He's always thought of the red stone as representing passion, anger, stuff like that. Maybe it represents something even more primal. Maybe the red is meant to be taken more literally.
So he's a vampire. Cool. He wishes for the thousandth time that Lex was there. This would fascinate him. Making menacing faces into the mirror, Kal scowls hard, but can't get his face to "vamp" out. If a slayer is going to show up, he hopes it's Faith. Buffy is a whiney bore. Not to mention being an idiot to prefer Angel to Spike.
That's what he needs. If he's going to be a vampire, he wants a cool leather duster like Spike`s.
There is something odd about the way the night looks, or more accurately, about the way he's seeing it. It isn't like seeing things in the daytime, but it isn't like it's dark either. Everything is bright, but bathed in a cool silvery blue. He feels hyper-alert, like all his senses are on overdrive. He's seeing details that he's never seen before, let alone noticed, as he walks through the crowded streets. A blonde in heels favoring her left side slightly. A woman who moves older than she looks, her bones clicking with arthritis. A man with a weak heart, distinct and calling him over the cacophony of other heartbeats that should be irritating but is instead . . . arousing.
Kal is becoming increasingly hungry, but nothing he would normally enjoy appeals to him. How exactly did you go about being a vampire? He doubts the Red Cross delivers. Maybe he's going about this the wrong way. He speeds south. He's never been to the Suicide Slums area of town before, but it has the best chance of having what he needs. He only has to wait for ten minutes before he's attacked, and then Metropolis is short one gangster. No, playah Kal corrects himself, as he wipes his mouth before hiding the body behind a dumpster. He doesn't think the man will turn into a vampire, but breaks his neck just to be sure. Self-defense, so no unpleasant guilt feelings, and he finds 1300 dollars in cash in the guy's wallet. A drug dealer, maybe? With this and what he's taken from the apartment earlier, and he's ready to do some shopping.
The clerk is taking way too long to ring up the duster. He wants to hit the clubs. He really hopes that "vampires can't have sex" thing is all part of Anne Rice's twisted imagination, or eternity is going to suck, and not in a good way. It might suck even if he still can get laid. Metropolis was fun at first, but lately . . .
What the fuck is taking her so long? He's just about to grab the coat and run when he hears the news recap over the radio in the store. ". . . the Luthor heir, went home to the Smallville family estate today after being lost at sea for three months. Father Lionel Luthor expressed his gratitude and joy at his son`s miraculous return. In other news, the Sharks lost . . . ."
"When did they find Lex?" he asks.
The bored teen pops her gum, and counts out his change. "Who?"
"Forget it," Kal snarls, grabbing his change and the jacket. He has to get to Smallville.
He starts running, the buildings a blur around him. He'd been to Lex's funeral weeks ago, standing in the back so no one would see him. Nothing has really felt right since then. His fingers twitch at the thought of touching him.
It's when he jumps over the third car he notices he's stayed in the air a bit longer than he should have. He really doesn't want to turn into a bat, (He's always been creeped out by bats.), but flying would be nice. Kal realizes he's standing next to the Luthor Corp. building. That has to be some sort of sign, right?
Speeding up the stairs, he breaks open the door and walks out on the roof. Damn. It hadn't looked nearly this high from the ground. All right, he can do this. He's a hip vampire now. A hip alien vampire. Although, if he falls, he's going to leave one hell of a pothole. Not that he can get hurt, Kal assures himself, but he doesn't want to ruin his new jacket. He's about talked himself out of it when he feels it again. That pull he's felt since he heard about Lex, almost a vibration, as if someone has plucked a string connecting him to Lex. It resonates in his bones.
Taking a deep breath, he runs and jumps off the edge of the building . . . and sees the ground rushing up to meet him. Swinging his arms and legs wildly, he finally hits upon a position that stabilizes him around the twenty-fifth floor. Kal feels ridiculous holding one arm out in front of him, but he can perfect the technique later. He needs to get to Lex. Besides, the jacket flowing out behind him probably looks impressive enough to make up for it.
It hits him as soon as he opens the balcony door. The scent of Lex enfolds him, filling his nose and mouth, breathing Lex into his cells. Kal watches him sleep, curled toward the bedroom door, his bare head and shoulder pale curves above the rich purple comforter. He's never felt such need before, such hunger.
"Lex," he whispers, tracing his fingers down the curve of Lex's neck with awe.
A gun appears in Kal's face, glinting in the moonlit room. "Don't move."
"It's me, Lex." Kal has to touch him again, aches to touch him.
"Clark?" Lex keeps the gun on him until he turns the light on, then sits up in bed surprised. "How did you get in here? Where have you been?"
"Shhh. It doesn`t matter." He straddles Lex`s thighs, tossing the gun away. "You don't need this anymore. I'll make it so no one can ever hurt you again." Shivering with the need to touch him, Kal slides his hands up Lex's arms. He's thinner, harder, as if he's been baked in an oven, skin stretched taut over long muscles in his biceps, his chest. Kal runs his nails down to trace Lex's abs, lost in the quivers that follow behind his fingers.
"What are you doing?"
Kal rolls their hips together, smiling as Lex's questions stop at the movement. "You were right, Lex." He rocks forward on each sentence, feeling Lex`s erection rising to meet his. "We do have a destiny together. Cassandra showed me. I just didn't understand it before." He wants to feel skin, his skin on and in Lex. He speeds out of his clothes, not even caring where his jacket lands, and grins at Lex`s open-mouthed stare. "Later. I promise I`ll tell you everything later."
He feels Lex slowly start to caress the shifting muscles in his back and smiles even more. This is what he needs. This is who he's needs. Shifting, he slides the covers back so he can see Lex. His tan ends at the waist, the suddenly pale skin only serving to emphasize his cock. His long lean body still bears the marks from his ordeal. He'll fix all that, make it so that nothing can ever happen to Lex again.
Kal can't resist running his hand over the well defined abs in front of him again, following Lex's obliques to his hard cock, growing harder as Clark strokes it. He's smaller than Clark, although the darkening head is larger in proportion to the shaft than his own. He's also bare, something Kal has wondered about. It's even sexier than he imagined.
"If this is another hallucination, I don't want to wake up," Lex moans as Kal strokes him.
Kal scoots down between Lex's legs. "Does this feel like a hallucination?" He licks a stripe up Lex's shaft, circling the crown with his tongue. Looking up, he grins at the expression on Lex's face. He uses all the tricks he has learned in Metropolis, concentrating on the head with his mouth as he fondles Lex`s balls, pausing in places that cause Lex to arch and gasp. He loves the surprised sound Lex makes when he deep throats him. Kal wants so badly to watch Lex's face as he enjoys this, but his eyes keep being drawn to the pulsing beat in the crease of Lex's thigh.
Trailing a wet finger down to the puckered opening, rubbing softly, he asks, "You trust me don't you, Lex?" He looks up long enough to see Lex nod, then eases in his finger, surrounded by tight warmth he can't wait to be inside. Searching for the spot, he knows he's found it when Lex groans and fists his fingers in Kal's hair. He wets another finger and adds it, thrusting in time with his other hand as he strokes Lex's cock. Kal inhales deeply, feeling his heartbeat synchronize with Lex's, throbbing down to his bones. Unable to resist any longer, he laps at the hypnotizing area of skin below Lex's hipbone. He can feel Lex's balls drawing up as his climax nears. Kal's skin feels tight, almost itchy with want. "You know I'd never hurt you?"
"Yes . . . fuck, Clark. I trust you." Lex whimpers, close to the edge.
Biting into the artery, he almost comes himself as Lex shudders in climax. Bliss floods his mouth, Lex's life filling him, rich and hot. Better than X, better than coke, invincible high. Flying without even leaving the ground. Everything disappears except that red river flowing down his throat, everything but that and Lex. Lex a part of him now, changing him from the inside out. Lex pulls his hair as he comes and comes. Kal needs to stop, but it is so hard. He's so hard. Both of them breathing fast, Kal gives one last lick to the small wound and sits up. "Lube?" he asks, petting Lex's smooth thigh.
Lex gestures mutely at the bedside table, eyes closed, still panting.
Kal hurriedly grabbs the lube and warms it on his fingers. Placing a pillow under Lex's ass, he quickly readies him. His muscles are relaxed from earlier, so it won't take long, which is good. Kal is so hard it's starting to hurt.
"Clark, condom." Lex looks at the bedside table again.
"We don't need them, Lex." There is no way he's stopping to put on a completely unnecessary condom.
"What? No." Lex props up on his elbows. "As far as I know I'm safe, but Helen and I didn't use them after the engagement, and judging from the mind-bending blow job I just received --." His voice thickens as Kal massages his prostate. "Aah, I don't think you're exactly a virgin. We need to use . . ." He pauses, frowning as he looks down his body. "Is that blood on my leg?"
"It's okay, Lex, I was careful. And you won't need to use a condom ever again." Lex starts to protest again, and Kal withdraws his fingers and leans over, grinding his erection against Lex in the process. "Trust me," he whispers, staring into Lex's eyes. The world stills for a moment until Lex finally nods.
Kal can't wait any longer. Pulling back to line up, he slowly enters Lex, hissing at the pleasure so strong it borders on pain. He holds his breath to keep from coming immediately. Starts moving, his thrusts quickly going faster. He's wanted this for so long. So good. Feels so good. Lex's legs around his waist, his finger's pinching Kal's nipples, driving harder, both of them yelling.
Lex is hard again. Kal shifts his angle. Wants to make Lex feel it too. Fucking; locked together, connected to Lex forever. "We'll never be alone again."
Biting his wrist, he holds it to Lex's mouth. "Drink, Lex." He isn't sure this will work, but it feels right. It all feels right, as if the everything that has ever happened has occurred solely to make this moment possible. Lex grabs his wrist blindly, his mind overloaded with sensation. He grunts in surprise as Lex sucks fiercely, sending a current of electricity through Kal's body. The sensation of a circuit being completed, the scent and sight and feel of Lex all around him.
Moving in time to the throbbing pulls on his wrist, time altering to their rhythm, drawing down; Lex's mouth on his wrist, and his cock in Lex's ass, the only things in existence, sucking and fucking. Shockwaves of pleasure as they come together, arching, emptying his soul into Lex.
Kal collapses beside Lex, wrapping his arms around him loosely. Nuzzling his neck, he breathes deeply. He can smell both of them on Lex's skin and thinks that's the way Lex should always smell, the way they should both smell.
Leaning in, he kisses him. Lex opens his mouth immediately, luring Kal's tongue in to explore. Slide of lips and tongues and teeth as the kiss slowly grows deeper. Kal has rarely kissed anyone in Metropolis, at least not on the mouth, and he's reveling in it.
Lex pulls away slightly, breath warm against his skin. "I would never have thought we'd fuck before we even kiss." He stiffens against Kal, then begins jerking in convulsions.
"Lex? What's wrong? Lex!" Kal kneels beside him frantically, unsure whether to hold him down or let him thrash. "Hang on, Lex. I'm getting help." Lunging for the phone, he starts dialing 911 when he noticed Lex's chest. The veins are bulging red, radiating out from his heart, and spreading across his body. It looks like his own veins when he's exposed to kryptonite. Panic claws at his gut. This is his fault. All his fault. He flings the phone across the room where it explodes in electronic carnage against the wall. The hospital was useless when his mother was sick. They won't be able to help now either.
"Lex?" He tries to keep his voice calm, but all he wants to do is scream. "Can you hear me?" Lex is shocky pale, his face clenched in pain, but his eyes are focused on Kal's face. He tries to speak. Kal leans forward, holding his face.
"Wake . . . up." A choked, fractured voice, so unlike Lex's normal smooth tone.
Lex stills. Finally! Kal beams in relief, embracing him.
No, no, no, no, no! This can't be happening. Not again. Heart racing, he yanks the pillow out from under Lex. Breathe two, push fifteen. "Breathe, Lex!" Breathe two, push fifteen. Check the pulse. "Don't you die on me!" Breathe two, push fifteen.
Later, Kal will swear he tasted river water.
Kal stopped the heart compressions, almost afraid to move for fear of causing something else to go wrong. Lex looks at him searchingly. He's silent for so long Kal is starting to get afraid again.
"I could have sworn I hit you."
Kal lets out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He's shaking. "Are you okay?"
"I feel like I've been turned inside out. No, Clark. I'm all right." He pets Kal in reassurance.
Kal stretches out beside him, gently kissing his brow, his eyes, his lips, holding him as tightly as he dares. "I was so scared, Lex. I thought I'd killed you."
"No." Lex closes his eyes, caressing Kal`s arm. "Just tired."
"I'm sorry, Lex. I never want to hurt you."
"S'okay." He yawns hugely and closes his eyes.
Fear shoots through Kal until he realizes Lex is just asleep. He's feeling tired too, Lex's yawn prompting his own. Frowning, he looks out the window at the sky. That would explain it. He needs to get them undercover before the sun comes up. He grabs the blankets off the bed, and scoops Lex up in his arms. Grinning, he decids it's probably a good thing Lex isn't awake. He'd hate being carried like some romance heroine. But that's okay, he thinks. He kisses Lex softly and pads to the door. Just as long as Lex is still around to get mad him at him. Just as long as he's around for a very long time.
To be continued in Fangs for the Memories
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