If Lex had wanted to be saved he would've gone to a Pentecostal church somewhere else in the Bible Belt, but he could certainly admit that there was something deeply spiritual about the hottest club in Metropolis, Mass, being located in the chapel of an abandoned church.
Of course Lex might've been mixing up his spirituality with his desire to get fucked, and so much debauchery under one roof could damn a lot of souls, but as Lex made his way through the sweaty throng, he had a feeling that the denizens of Mass didn't really care.
Lex's notion could've had something to do with the Amazon-like humidity from all the damp, barely-dressed bodies writhing together on the dance floor, or it might've been from all the moaning he heard as he passed by the rector's office.
There was also a distinct possibility that the throbbing bass that had managed to find purchase low in Lex's groin, and the bartenders dressed like altar boys who'd forgot their robes at home had clued him in.
Lex wasn't sure, but he wasn't actually bothered either. If everybody was going to hell, then that was their business. Lex's business could only be dealt with by a higher power -- or by motioning for Herschel and Big Jake to stand aside and let him ascend to the balcony.
There were lit torches on the wall to guide Lex's way, and strangely enough there were no stragglers on the steps indulging in synthetic whims or carnal pleasures. Actually there were no stragglers at all, which was not how Lex remembered Mass, but he knew that present management had decided to crack down on such activities. Actually 'present management' had simply decided to protect their investment - it was easier to claim ignorance over people fucking a back room than it was to turn a blind eye to blowjobs on the stairs.
At least that was Lex's managerial point of view, which also recognized that Mass's architecture was clearly heavily Gothic influenced. Much like St. Sebastian in Gotham or Notre Dame in Paris, Mass was all high buttresses and picture windows, but Lex knew for a fact that the stained glass was bulletproof. Of course, Lex also knew that the VIP room was not in the rector's room, but had ingeniously been built directly under the confessionals.
This evening, however, while Lex was after something much more heavenly than a back room or going underground, he would've been the first to admit that from the balcony the view of all those barely-dressed bodies on the dance floor was pretty fucking inspiring.
Almost as inspiring as watching the DJ spin from a tiny niche where Lex was positive organ pipes used to be.
For obvious reasons, not all of them related to his father or his love of science, Lex had never been the most ardent churchgoer, but judging by the way the DJ cradled his headphones between his neck and shoulder, and the way the strobes overhead and the red lights around his booth played off of his dark hair and chiseled features, Lex could conceivably be induced to pray. Or at the very least get down on his knees.
There were lots of things that separated Mass from the other clubs, but their new resident DJ, Kal, was by far the most worthy of unfaltering praise and devotion - at least in Lex's estimation.
This was Lex's seventh time at Mass, but only the second time he'd seen Kal spin; and unfortunately, Lex didn't remember a lot about the last time Kal was in the DJ booth since at the time Lex had been a little occupied with his drugs and eye candy. But a lot had changed in a summer, and now Lex was minus a fiance and in possession of a very large company with his name all over it. With greater responsibility had come other stuff, though, and Lex's visits to Mass since May had gone from him quizzing the staff and trying to figure out why nobody had bothered to tell him that a god was DJing in a church downtown to discussions of property contracts... and wondering why no one had told him a god was DJing downtown.
Lex had been a very busy disciple trying to track Kal down, but the CEO of a Fortune 500 company could only spend so much time on fallen angels. Lex only bought the church to ensure that should Kal ever want to DJ at Mass again, there would be absolutely no complications of any kind, and Lex wouldn't miss the experience.
The former manager had warned Lex that while Kal drew in the bodies, he had a problem with his temper and was prone to cutting out at random times and passing out in phone booths. Lex had taken the phone booth thing as a metaphor, and had immediately put out the word that whomever could produce Kal could write his own ticket at Mass.
He'd hired Dimtri from Atlantis six days ago -- and now he had Kal in residence.
A tiny smirk played at the corners of Lex's mouth as he watched Kal flip through his crates and make a selection. When he turned back around to cue up his next record, Lex began to approach the booth dead-on.
"Enjoying yourself?" Lex shouted into the din, coming to a halt a foot away from the turntables. He'd spent enough time with Pete and Paul to know how touchy DJs were about their personal space, but he was slightly affronted when Kal didn't immediately acknowledge his presence. It wasn't every day that Lex bought a debauched angel his own church.
Instead of answering him, Kal began fidgeting with his equalizers and spinning the record with the tip of his finger, all the while mouthing along to the song currently blasting from the speakers.
The red ring on Kal's finger caught the strobe and flashed directly in Lex's eyes for a brief second.
"Do you always ignore people when they talk to you?" Lex snapped when he finally managed to catch Kal's eye.
Instead of having the decency to pretend he hadn't heard Lex, Kal snickered before turning away and pulling his headphones on, and it was only once he was practically climbing into the niche that Lex noticed the white lights underneath Kal's turntables that enabled him to read the labels on his vinyl.
"Do you know who I am?" Lex demanded as Kal deftly managed to changed tracks, bob his head to the beat and maneuver around Lex in the tiny space as though Lex weren't there at all.
Before Lex could stop himself, he'd grabbed a fist full of dark blue cotton with a plastic green gem dead center. "Most of my employees show me more respect," Lex warned even as Kal continued to work around him.
"I'm not most of your employees," Kal said batting Lex's hand away as though he were a fly. "I'm not anybody's employee. I work for me."
"Well, as somebody who's paying your fee tonight, you're not impressing me," Lex shouted over a particularly hard beat.
"That's too bad," Kal smirked while looking Lex up and down. "Because you're definitely impressive."
Lex blinked as Kal licked his lips and displayed impossibly white teeth. "You do know who I am, don't you?" he asked.
Even in the semi-darkness of the DJ booth, it was clear when Kal rolled his eyes. "Should I?" he hollered over the din.
"Some people would say yes."
"Some people are idiots," Kal said.
Lex couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. "You're not wrong."
"I know I'm not," Kal replied, all bravado and flash as he once again maneuvered around Lex to get to his crates. Lex swallowed around the lump in his throat when Kal dropped to his knees to search a carton underneath his turntables.
"Do you have a last name, Kal?"
"That depends on your first name." Kal unfurled himself from the ground as though he were a plant on Miracle-Grow.
"Lex. Lex Luthor."
Kal licked his lips again, never missing a beat. "Well, Lex, for the right price," he said, reaching out and gripping Lex's arm and pulling Lex's hand toward his groin, "you can call me whatever you want."
Kal went commando -- not that Lex was surprised. Generally, boys who looked like Kal thought it was enough of a concession to wear clothing at all, and there was a certain head-ringing quality to giving a DJ a blowjob while he manned the turntables that notched up the throbbing in Lex's groin.
Of course it was also possible that the throbbing was down to the bass making the entire church quake like the second coming, or Lex's dick straining to get out of his pants; but there just wasn't enough room in the niche for Lex to blow Kal, get himself off and not injure himself on Kal's various crates of vinyl at the same time. Certain concessions had to be made. For now. Once Kal's set was done, however, Lex was taking Metropolis' most expensive DJ back to the penthouse and making certain that his investment was worth every cent that Lex had so eagerly shelled out.
It was all well and good to have a talented DJ with a thick seven, no, eight-inch cock at his disposal, but if Lex wanted his music mixed he knew a rapper/producer in Detroit who would take care of it for him without requiring him to buy a club first. So why exactly Lex had bought the club he couldn't actually say, but sometime during Lex's first visit to Mass, he'd looked up at Kal, mixing in his niche, and felt a pull as though he should know him from somewhere and had missed something by not having Kal in his life. At the time, however, he'd been with Victoria and had done his best to shake it off, but then, two days later he'd found out about the life insurance policy she'd taken out on his 'behalf' and that had been that -- and Lex had gone back to thinking about Kal.
And even now, what filled Lex's head with peace wasn't Kal's cock or his preternatural prettiness or his somewhat-exceptional DJing skills, but how right it felt to be sucking off this stranger who clearly didn't know, or didn't care, who he was.
Lex hadn't known that anonymity could feel so religious.
Leaving Mass by the back exit required crossing through the rectory, the choir room and the kitchen, each room was more debauchery ridden than the last, but at least the people fucking in the kitchen were fucking on stainless steel which was much easier to clean at the end of the evening. Lex had overhead to think about, and Kal bumped into him when Lex paused after opening the back door and stepping into the alley.
The alley was dark and dank and smelled of overripe garbage, the way every alley in every major city did. Lex could see streetlights at either end of the alley faintly illuminating along the walls. This was a lawsuit waiting to happen. Dimitri was going to have to put some security out here.
"You want to do it here?" Kal said wrapping his arms around Lex and pulling him back against the hardness making a bulge in his jeans. Lex shook his head to clear it as Kal leaned down and nipped at his shoulder.
"Are you always this impatient?" Lex asked, tilting his head to the side to give Kal more access.
"Why wait?" Kal said, thrusting shallowly against Lex's ass.
"There's this thing called a bed," Lex began, breaking away and stepping further into the alley. The door clicked shut behind Kal as he followed Lex out, but when Lex blinked, Kal was in front of him.
In the uneven footing and bad lighting of the alley, Kal seemed even taller than he had in the balcony.
"There's this thing called a wall, Lex," he said, licking his lips. Lex's cock twitched as Kal reached out and cupped Lex's elbows. "I could fuck you right here, think about how good it would feel, my cock, your ass, nice and hard."
Lex swallowed as he thought about how good that would probably feel. He hadn't been laid since he'd broken up with Victoria. If the escort services didn't count. "You're carrying condoms and lube?"
Lex stepped back. "You're clean? I don't care if you're approved by the Surgeon General, I don't do bareback."
Kal stepped forward. "I don't get sick."
"Neither do I, but that's not the point."
"What do you mean you don't get sick?"
"It's a long story."
"I've got all night."
"Not if we don't get out this alley," Lex said decisively.
Kal's smirk was decidedly wicked and it unleashed little furls of lust in Lex's stomach. Lex took another step back when Kal stepped forward and in another blink, he found himself pressed against the wall. "You're really against alley sex, huh? What can I do to change your mind?"
Lex arched an eyebrow. "You really get off on this?"
"Right now I want to get off on you," Kal murmured as he crowded Lex against cool brick and kicked his legs apart.
Lex was going to say something else, but his words were swallowed up in an impossibly hungry kiss. Sharp teeth and a wet tongue launched an assault on Lex's mouth, licking and sucking, even as Kal's hands slid down Lex's sides and around his back to grip his ass.
Lex's hands tangled in dark hair as Kal's tongue thrust into Lex's mouth with a bruising rhythm, promising things that Lex wanted pretty damn badly. Lex made a noise as Kal lifted him slightly and pressed a hard thigh between his legs.
Lex didn't need a diagram to know what Kal wanted, and if the first thrust felt pretty fucking good considering the layers of clothing between them, the following thrusts were even better. Even with Kal's hands supporting him and gripping him, Lex's back throbbed every time he met the wall, and he groaned loudly.
But not louder than the click of the gun cocked at his elbow.
"Gimme your fucking money!"
Lex froze, but it took Kal a second longer to cease his ministrations, and Lex had to actually push at him to make him stop. Even though Kal ceased giving Lex a hickey on his neck, he didn't actually let Lex go.
"You have no idea who you're talking to." Kal's tone was all haughty derision as he tossed his words over his shoulder, and Lex's hand tightened on his bicep in a vice-like grip.
"Shut up," he hissed.
"I don't care if you're the fucking Pope!" a disembodied male voice shouted. "This ain't a fucking socialist robbery! I ain't askin' for your two cents!"
"You mean a democratic robbery," Kal corrected, finally releasing Lex and turning around. Lex couldn't get a good look at the robber in the darkened alley with Kal in the way, but he could certainly smell him. He smelled like the floor of a particularly seedy bar; Lex had passed out on enough floors to know the difference.
"Democratic! Socialist! This could be Mother Russia, I don't care. My gun is your god, and god says 'gimme your goddamn money before I blow you wide open'," the man shouted.
Kal made a tsking noise as Lex reached into his back pocket. "Just give him the money," Lex whispered into Kal's ear, prodding Kal's elbow with his wallet.
"I don't think so," Kal said. "Not tonight."
"Kal," Lex said. He so didn't need any one-name DJ playing hero and getting killed in the back alley of his club. Buying Mass was about to turn into the worst decision he'd ever made.
"Lex." Kal's teasing tone was completely inappropriate, and Lex's dick should not have responded. But it did. He was going to have to talk to his body later -- it had no business getting so excited about somebody it had just met. Just as Lex's hand had no business touching the small of Kal's back in what he hoped was a placating gesturing, but that happened too.
"Don't play a hero," Lex said.
"Who's playing?" Kal said.
And just like that Lex's world went upside down.
Kal attacked, the gun fired, and Lex was too busy feeling the heat of the bullet that had almost taken away his right ear to appreciate the fact that Kal was beating the snot of the robber.
Luthors didn't piss themselves. Lex was just a little unsettled, and he was still working on his breathing when Kal reappeared at his elbow, with an impossibly sunny smile and looking entirely too pleased with himself.
It was only natural for Lex to belt him one for scaring the shit out of him. "Ow!"
"Do you always punch guys who save your life?" Kal asked as Lex assessed the damage to his hand from meeting Kal's rock-solid stomach.
"I do when they nearly get themselves killed!" Lex snapped. "Humans aren't superheroes. Warrior Angel is a superhero, and you are not Warrior Angel."
Kal snorted. "Warrior Angel is a comic book alien; I'm the real thing."
This time Lex made the snort of derision, but when Kal didn't correct him, Lex stared. It explained a lot, but -- but. "You're a what?"
"You're a gay alien?"
Kal shrugged. "You have a problem with that?"
Lex's laugh was shaky at best. "That really depends -- are you planning on conquering Earth and making us all your slaves?"
Lex didn't even notice Kal's fingers hooking into his belt loops until he dragged him forward. "Don't worry, Lex," he said, warm breath ghosting over Lex's scalp, "if worst comes to worst you can be my consort."
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