by Vivian Darkbloom
Lex thoroughly dislikes Toyman: he's childish and creepy, his methods are slapdash and he gives Super-villainy a bad name. But he is indisputably skilled at building robots, which is why Lex is standing on the roof of the Metropolitan Plaza Hotel, to witness first-hand the havoc that Toyman's latest invention is wreaking on the city below.
There's a whoosh of air and a strong arm wraps itself around Lex's middle. Lex sighs. It's not the arm he would have chosen.
"I'm not doing anything," he says, mildly. "Just watching, and hoping for the best, like any other concerned citizen of Metropolis."
"Forgive me if I take that with a grain of salt," says Wonder Woman and leaps into the air.
"You can't hold me," says Lex, although she is, in fact, holding him several hundred feet above Metropolis. He says again: "I haven't done anything."
Wonder Woman ignores him to speak into her com-link: "I've got Luthor....he was loitering a block away from the battle zone."
Lex snorts at "loitering", then lapses into icy silence. He hears the rumbled baritone of J'onn's response but can't decipher the words. Wonder Woman listens for a moment, then says:
"Right. I'll hang onto him until Toyman is settled. Which should be soon."
Lex squints into the setting sun. Clark and Green Lantern are flying in tight formation around the robot, alternating blasts of heat vision and power ring. The robot is standing up remarkably well to their combined attack. Lex makes a mental note to send Mercy to steal the schematics.
Presently, there's a boom, followed by a cloud of smoke and the crash of a falling robot. Wonder Woman moves in for a closer look. Green Lantern flies over to join her, refusing to acknowledge Lex with even a glance.
"That's a clean take-down," says Wonder Woman, "An empty parking lot-"
"- means no clean-up," says Green Lantern. He curls his lip at Lex. "What are you going to do with him?"
"Take him home," says Wonder Woman, briskly. She adds, to Lex: "But don't think for a minute that we won't be monitoring you, Luthor."
Lex doesn't condescend to reply; As Wonder Woman turns in the air, preparing to fly him back to LexCorp, Clark suddenly appears, parting the smoke like a curtain. He looks over at Lex, and says:
"I can take him."
"There's no need, Superman. It's on my way back to the WatchTower."
But interestingly, Clark doesn't back down; in fact, he actually flies over to Diana and reaches out his hands for Lex. He says, again:
"I can take him."
And there's a moment, a definite moment, between Clark and Wonder Woman. Lex is sensitive to atmosphere, particularly the atmosphere around Clark, but even he can't quite decipher what's going on here. There's a hesitation on Diana's part, a little disapproval, perhaps?
But she accedes and offers Lex to Clark; Lex frowns at the indignity of it, being held like a kitten, his legs dangling in the air, passed between two super-beings.
Then he's tucked in the crook of Clark's arm, which though Lex would never admit it, has a certain familiar comfort about it. As Clark flies away, Lex looks back and watches as Wonder Woman and Green Lantern exchange a significant glance. Which is all very interesting.
The way Clark had reached out to claim Lex, it was almost.... territorial. He hadn't liked Wonder Woman holding Lex. While Clark is talking, delivering one of his usual scolds, Lex tunes him out and develops a theory. A theory he intends to test as soon as possible.
Lex is unimpressed with Central City; its architecture is as bland as its name. The holiday decorations are the same garish red as Flash's costume. They make his eyes ache. Lex sighs and puts on his sunglasses. He strolls past the Flash Museum, notorious for getting leveled by Flash's enemies and re-built on a semi-annual basis. Lex would happily destroy it himself, right now, on the grounds of horrible design.
People are staring at Lex, whispering behind their hands. A few take discreet pictures with their phones. That's fine with Lex, he wants to be noticed, which is why he had told Mercy to drop him downtown. It's only a matter of time, now....
Lex doesn't break his stride, forcing Captain Cold to surf up to him on a wave of ice. Lex raises an eyebrow and keeps walking.
"Luthor!" says Captain Cold again, the boom in his voice a little uncertain.
Captain Cold blinks behind his dark glasses. Lex taps his foot impatiently: Why are the Flash villains so slow to get to the point and why must they always choose such prosaic names?
"What are you doing here?" says Captain Cold. "Central City is my town, Luthor!"
"You're welcome to it," says Lex, with a shudder, eyeing the generic office tower on the corner.
"Have you come here to make me an offer?" says Captain Cold, a little wistfully. "Recruit me to the Injustice League?"
And why are the Flash villains so behind the times? Lex dissolved the Injustice League over a year ago. He answers politely:
"Then I think," says Captain Cold, "We might have a problem. I don't like encroachers."
Lex snorts. Such a second tier - no, make that third tier - villain. No class, no presentation. He says:
"What do you plan to do about it?"
Captain Cold looks at him thoughtfully, and then constructs an ice wall in front of Lex with the crook of a finger. The sidewalk promptly empties, pedestrians ducking down alleys and side streets.
"And that's just for starters," says Captain Cold. Lex yawns. Captain Cold glares at him and raises both hands.
There's a streak of red. (Finally, thinks Lex.)
"No, no, no, no, no," says Flash, unblurring on a pivot. "Fellas, just no. It's a lovely day; Christmas is just around the corner; there's a hockey game I want to go to tonight....so just, no. Put away your tape measures and let it go."
Captain Cold fires a half-hearted blast of ice at him. Flash dodges it easily, then runs circles around the ice until it's reduced to a puddle. Lex watches, arms crossed. Flash skids to a stop in front of Captain Cold and says:
"C'mon, Leonard. You don't want to do this. You just got out of jail, man! Your wife's waiting to see you."
Captain Cold says:
"Is my problem," says Flash.
Captain Cold hesitates a moment, then turns:
"I will rule Central City! And later, the world! No one can stop me-"
"Another day, maybe," says Flash, gently. He watches Captain Cold skate glumly away. "Now, Lex-"
Lex resumes walking.
"I could have you back in Metropolis in a matter of seconds," says Flash. "Of course, you're not my first choice of a passenger-"
"I'm just taking a walk," says Lex, in his most exaggeratedly innocent voice.
"With you a walk is never "just a walk"," says Flash. "I don't want you upsetting the balance here. You've got Leonard so upset, he'll probably destroy my museum tomorrow, a whole month ahead of schedule. Hey Supes!"
Lex cocks his head as Flash speaks into his com-link.
"You got time for a pick-up? One of your lambs has strayed."
A minute later, Lex is on his way back to Metropolis, tucked under the arm of a glowering Clark.
"Don't you cause enough trouble here, without expanding to other cities?" Clark says. He's just deposited Lex on the penthouse balcony and is hovering with his arms folded.
"My interests take me many places."
"And since when are you interested in Central City?"
Lex strokes his chin and doesn't answer. Clark says, sternly:
"Consider yourself on probation. No field trips".
He flies away in a disgruntled blur of red and blue. Lex watches him go with a smile, then steps inside for a well-deserved drink.
Lex hates being underwater, a side effect of having spent far too much time submerged in sinking cars. It doesn't matter that his diving suit (purple, of course) is of the highest quality and comes equipped with an assortment of interesting and decorative weaponry. He can't wait to be back on land again.
Within minutes he is surrounded by Aquaman's guards. Also, a few porpoises. Lex raises his hands in peaceable surrender and allows himself to be conveyed through Atlantis to the palace.
One hour and one interminably long lecture about fish welfare later, Clark finally arrives. Lex is amused to note that Aquaman manages to scornfully toss his hair without rising from his throne.
"Bored man," mutters Lex. Clark glares at him.
Aquaman stands up, holds his pose for a moment, then strides over to Clark:
"You promised to keep the villains of Earth from my waters!"
"I had no idea Lex was coming here," says Clark, a little defensively. "And I'll take him back to Metropolis right now."
Not without a lecture, you won't, thinks Lex, and he's right. Aquaman opens his mouth....and they're off. What good is the League if it only monitors space and earth but not sea? Does Superman not understand the threat the oceans are under? How the great kingdom of Atlantis-
"And so forth," says Lex, to himself. He idly makes a puppet of his hand. "Fish. Fish. Hair Toss. Fish."
When Aquaman finally winds down, Clark puts a hand on Lex's shoulder and says, in a harassed voice:
"Well, I'll gladly get him out of your hair now, Arthur."
Lex snorts. An apt metaphor. Clark frowns and gives him a little shake. A little shake from Clark is enough to make Lex thoroughly dizzy and combined with the oxygen deprivation....the world turns blurry for a moment.
"Oh no, you don't!"
He revives to find himself nose to nose with an angry Clark.
"You're not fainting your way out of this one! When we get back to the surface, you're going to tell me exactly what you were doing down here."
"Won't that be fun for both of us?" murmurs Lex, and settles into his comfortable niche in Clark's arms.
This time, Clark lands on the balcony and takes a testing step towards the penthouse. There's no kryptonite to stop him; Lex had the walls re-done last week.
"Do come in," says Lex, with exaggerated courtesy. Clark shakes his head.
"No. Tell me what you were doing in Atlantis."
Lex waves a hand:
"The undersea world has always held great intrigue for me, Clark."
"It has not," says Clark, and Lex looks up, startled by the slight amusement in his voice. "If you tangle with Aquaman again, you'll get yourself into serious trouble. I'm surprised Arthur didn't shoot you on sight."
"He used to be more fun," says Lex.
"Being strapped to tables tends to make people more serious," says Clark.
"Really?" says Lex. "I would have thought the opposite."
There's a growl, a blur of red and blue and suddenly Lex finds himself pinned to the wall. Clark's angry face is so close, close enough for Lex to scent Clark's skin and feel the breeze of his eyelashes.
"Stop provoking other heroes," whispers Clark. "Or you'll provoke me. And that, Lex, you do not want!"
But he couldn't possibly be more wrong about that, thinks Lex, watching Clark soar across the evening sky.
Every city gets the hero it deserves and Gotham, city of perpetual night, thoroughly deserves Batman. Lex is uneasily aware of standing out here. If there had been another option....but Star City was out of the question. Lex loathes Oliver. And even Lex isn't brave enough to tackle Diana's home turf of Themyscira.
A trip to Gotham will certainly catch Clark's attention; the question is: who else will it provoke?
No Christmas lights for Gotham; no bright shop windows. Lex crosses an empty street, aware that he's being watched but unsure of the source of the scrutiny. The street is silent except for the wind, sifting snow across the sidewalk. Lex is expecting one of Batman's patented dramatic appearances: the "sweep down from a fire escape", or the "turn-around-and-there-he-suddenly-is." But instead he hears a whisper:
And Lex's heart sinks a little, because he really does try to avoid the Joker as much as possible. There's not much that scares Lex but the Joker tops the list.
There's nothing to do but face him. Lex puts on his game face and turns around.
Those mad eyes, gleaming in the dark of the street.
"I knew you were coming, Lexy. I broke out of Arkham just to see you! Aren't you flattered?" The Joker pauses. "Or do I mean....flattened?"
Lex instinctively leaps back but it doesn't matter. He still gets a full dose of gas from the oversized flower in the Joker's buttonhole. The last image he sees before falling unconscious, is the Joker standing over him: his long fingers curled into a steeple, his smile like an axe-mark.
Lex wakes to the sound of squeaking. Squeak, squeak, squeak. He tries to sit up, but he can't. That's ominous.
Then he remembers.
Falling into the Joker's hands.....is bad. Very bad. Because it doesn't matter how formidable your intellect is, there's no reasoning with a creature who doesn't maintain the same personality for ten consecutive seconds.
Still, he must try.
"You're awake!" The Joker steps out of the shadows. From this angle, he's all sharp chin and flat eyes, expressionless as boot buttons. The eyes of a ventriloquist dummy. Lex represses a shudder.
"If you wanted to suggest a collaborative venture, Joker, there were easier ways of going about it." That's good - keep the voice calm, tremor-free.
The Joker cocks his head:
"Aha! So now you want to collaborate. It was a different story six months ago, Lex!"
Lex tries an insouciant shrug, as best he can, while strapped to a table:
"Times have changed. Why else did you think I came to Gotham?"
The Joker frowns:
"You came - to meet me?"
"Of course." Lex's heart beats faster. Let him believe, just long enough to get me out of here.
"Liar!" The Joker brings his fist down on the table. "You lie like a rug, Lex! I know why you came. Oh, yes."
Lex waits. Let him keep talking. Talking is good. Because when the talking stops.....
The Joker bends over him, moves in so close that they're nose to nose. Lex tries not to flinch. Face like a decayed corpse and those crazed eyes....
"You came for the Bat, Lexy. Cutting in on my turf!"
Lex manages a scoff:
"Batman? He's all yours. I came to get your help in taking down Superman."
The Joker shrugs off Superman.
"Big Blue? No! I don't care about him. But that's not why you're here. You're after The Bat. And he's mine, Lex. Mine!"
"You're welcome to him," says Lex.
"Oh, yes. Oh, YES." The Joker leans in confidingly. "And I have a plan, Lex. Batman doesn't care about you."
"No," agrees Lex. This line of thought is to be encouraged.
"But he cares about Big Blue," the Joker licks his lips. "And Big Blue, he cares about you, Lex. Cares too much, ho-ho!"
"He wants me dead," says Lex.
"Wants you," says the Joker, thoughtfully. "How do I want you? I think I want you in pieces, Lex. Send a piece a day to Big Blue. A good gag, that: Hey, Superman! Let me lend you a hand!"
Lex wriggles; the leather straps squeak. But the straps are too tight and he's still groggy from the gas.
"He won't like that, Big Blue. And if he grieves, the Bat grieves. And do you know what I do, Lex?"
The Joker answers his own question with a long trill of laughter. Which might be the worst sound Lex has ever heard, at least until the Joker pulls the cord of his chainsaw.
"Do you like your present, Superman?" says the Joker, looming over Lex. "It cost me an arm and a leg! Do you see, Lex? Your arm, your leg! It's a grand gag!"
"No...." says Lex. It's no good. Pleading has never saved anyone from the Joker. But he must try. "We could work together, Joker. Take down the Bat and Superman."
"NO!" The Joker is furious. "Not you, not him. The Bat is mine. He's my villain."
And with that, he raises the chainsaw high above his head.
Lex thinks: "I deserve this."
Which is a terrible (yet slightly humourous) final thought to have.
But Clark doesn't deserve it. Because Clark really would mourn the murder of his greatest enemy; that's how Clark is.
As the chainsaw descends towards his right knee, Lex whispers "Clark...." His dying word: was there ever any question? He closes his eyes and waits for the pain. But what he gets instead is darkness, a merciful slip to unconsciousness.
When he wakes, it's still dark.
But he's warm - and he's moving. Lex cautiously flexes his fingers first, then his toes, to make sure all his extremities are accounted for.
"Stay still," says a voice, softly and Lex relaxes because he knows that voice, just as he knows the strength of the arms holding him, the heartbeat close to his ear, the warmth of the cape wrapped around him.
He's safe. Lex slides gratefully back into unconsciousness.
The second time Lex wakes, it's to absolute silence and a triangular shadow on the wall. Lex closes his eyes again, the better to focus his thoughts. This silence - it's the quiet of deep space. If he's in space, he must be-
Clark brought me to the WatchTower, thinks Lex wonderingly. He would never have anticipated that.
And the triangle? He opens his eyes a crack. It's the shadow of Batman's ear. Batman is sitting in the far corner of the room, deliberately set back in the dark.
"Hello, Bruce!" calls out Lex, in the loudest voice he can summon. He tries to sit up but finds he can't quite manage it.
"I know what you've been doing," says Batman.
"Everyone's attributing motives to me lately," says Lex. "You'll have to be more specific."
A shift in the shadows and Batman is approaching the bed. Lex may not have the strength to sit up yet - but by God, he can manage a defiant tilt to the chin.
"Superman has more than enough to do without you manufacturing situations to draw attention to yourself, Luthor."
Lex's heart beats a little faster. So he does know. Bruce is no fool, of course.
He says, coolly:
"I don't know what you mean."
Batman strokes his chin:
"Your recent visits to Central City, Atlantis, Gotham - these were all arbitrarily selected locations, then?"
"Yes," says Lex, in his haughtiest tone. "And while I appreciate the hospitality, I am feeling well enough to leave now."
Batman leans in a little; Lex wills himself not to pull back. Batman says:
"Nothing I'd like better. Get up."
Then he stands back, arms folded, and waits, the bastard. Lex, hoping that his still-wobbly legs won't betray him, gingerly lifts himself out of bed.
They walk to the Javelin bay; Lex tries to fend off his dawning depression. It had been a stupid plan and it's humiliating that Bruce has figured it out. And now....now, it's over. No more rides home in Clark's arms; no more lectures on the balcony.
"Keep moving," says Batman, tightening his grip on Lex's arm.
The automatic doors open and they step towards the Javelin.
Lex turns to look and there's Clark, in the doorway.
"Luthor's well enough to travel," says Batman, with a faint touch of irony.
"I can take him," says Clark.
Even through the mask, Lex can tell Bruce is frowning. He says:
"No," says Clark firmly. "He's my responsibility."
Though Lex can feel the annoyance radiating off Batman, the outcome is pre-determined. Bruce is not going to lower himself to quarreling with Clark in front of Lex. Instead he simply nods and strides away. Lex watches him go; when Batman pauses briefly in the doorway and looks back, Lex can't resist a triumphant smirk.
"I don't know what you've got to smile about," says Clark, grimly. "Get in."
They make the trip from the WatchTower to Earth in silence. Lex leans back in his seat, still sleepy from the Joker's gas; Clark frowns at the control panel and doesn't glance at him once. They land in an empty field not far from Smallville. After Clark has activated the automatic controls to return the Javelin to the WatchTower, he scoops up Lex and leaps into the sky.
Lex nestles shamelessly against Clark's shoulder. If this is to be his last flight with Clark, he might as well enjoy it to the fullest.
Clark lands on the balcony and walks straight into the penthouse, Lex still in his arms. Mercy greets them with a cocked pistol and a raised eyebrow. She says:
"We're fine," Lex tells her. "You can go."
She does, but she's clearly not happy about it. Clark sets Lex down and takes up a classic Superman stance. Clearly, a lecture is forthcoming.
"I'm trusting this is a peaceful visit, Clark, after the day I've had-"
"The day you engineered," says Clark, sternly.
"You think I wanted to be captured and tortured by the Joker?" says Lex. He congratulates himself on achieving just the right note of incredulity.
Clark takes a step closer, his eyes locked on Lex's:
"I think you've been pulling these stunts to get my attention, Lex. And now you've got it. I'm all ears. So, tell me: what exactly do you want from me?"
Lex takes a breath. The moment has come. He'll never get a better opportunity than this.
He walks right up to Clark and says:
"What I've always wanted."
And he kisses him.
Clark goes very still in his arms. But he hasn't pulled away yet or tossed Lex across the room....so Lex keeps kissing him, willing those soft lips to open and kiss him back.
Clark takes a step back, holding Lex at arm's length. Lex notes with satisfaction that Clark's eyes are very bright and his face is flushed.
"Lex, what are you doing?"
"What I've wanted to do for ten years," says Lex. There's a tremendous release in finally saying it out loud, regardless of what might happen next.
Clark shakes his head.
But he hasn't loosened his hold on Lex's arms yet, hasn't flown away in a fury. And if Clark's still here, it's because he wants to be. Lex watches him, waiting. When Clark looks up and meets his eyes, Lex, slowly and deliberately, licks his lips.
He dimly hears what sounds like....a growl? But it's hard for Lex to focus on a sound when his apartment is speeding past him in a blur, doors flying open, priceless vases knocked off regency tables.
They land on Lex's bed with a thump and the impact of 200-plus pounds of angry Clark landing on top of him nearly knocks Lex out cold again.
"You...." hisses Clark.
Lex gulps; Clark's lips are right there. His hands are still clamped around Lex's arms.
"You think-" says Clark. He bends in closer, his lips brushing Lex's ear. "You think you can control everything. Move me around like a chess piece."
Lex could point out that he's hardly in control right now but he doesn't get the chance because Clark is kissing him and suddenly all thoughts are wiped from Lex's mind, except these: warm, soft, Clark, more.
He manages to get a hand lose to stroke Clark's hair. Clark grunts and nips Lex's neck. Which is....nice. Very nice. Lex tilts his head back and lets Clark lick his throat, the underside of his chin.
"You just," Clark says, sternly addressing Lex's collar bone. "You keep on pushing."
Lex finds his voice. He whispers:
"Because I want you." He adds, under his breath. "Idiot."
Another growl, followed by a kiss that lasts so long Lex is flailing for breath by the end of it. Clark's hands have somehow found their way under Lex's shirt. One big warm palm is stroking his chest, the other is teasing around his waistband. Lex moans and tries to push against both hands at once. It's somehow incredibly hot that he's still fully dressed yet Clark's hands are roaming under his clothes.
"Causing trouble-" murmurs Clark. He pulls the collar of Lex's shirt open and presses a kiss to his shoulder. "You're always causing trouble, Lex."
Then Lex gasps again, as Clark neatly rips off his shirt, with one tug. He says:
"'S not fair."
Clark raises his head from Lex's left nipple.
"What's not fair?"
But he doesn't wait for an answer and resumes licking. Lex finds he can only speak in bursts and gasps:
"My shirt....but you're....still wearing....StupidClownSuit...."
Then he gives up on talking and moans, as Clark licks and kisses a pattern across his chest. He desperately wants to move, to buck up into the beautiful face hovering over him, but Clark's hands are firm on his hips and Lex isn't going anywhere unless Clark allows it. Which is all kinds of hot too.
Clark raises his head. His face is flushed; his lips a little swollen.
"Take off your costume," pleads Lex. "I want to see you."
A quick tornado of colour and Clark is back on top of him, oh god, naked. Lex pushes upwards, to try and rub himself against as much of naked Clark as possible. Each kiss from Clark makes Lex arch his back and close his eyes and that's not right, he wants to see those strong thighs straddling him, see the vein in the arm holding him down, the dark thatch of hair around Clark's big cock.
"You make a lot of noise," comments Clark. He kisses Lex again, his tongue teasing around Lex's moans. One of his hands has snaked around to the small of Lex's back and is rubbing there, a finger just teasing the top of the crack of Lex's ass.
"My pants," says Lex, frantically.
Lex manages a shadow of his commanding tone.
"Take them off, Clark."
One brisk wind later, his pants are on the floor in two symmetrical pieces and Clark is hovering over his boxers. For the first time, his eyes look uncertain:
"Lex, I want to....but I haven't before."
And Lex feels a warm rush of triumph because so many times he's wondered, feared, that Bruce or Oliver Queen might have gotten here first but now he knows.
"Whatever you do, I'll like it."
Clark grins and helps Lex wriggle out of his underwear. Then he climbs back up Lex to kiss him, bringing their cocks into sudden alignment. Lex groans. He could easily come just from staring at Clark's face, or from grinding against him once or twice.
"Slow down," orders Clark, stern once again. Lex blinks and disobeys, thrusting against Clark's thigh. A blur of movement and then his legs are in the air, draped over Clark's shoulders and Clark is....oh fuck, Clark is licking his inner thigh, tongue in the sensitive crease where thigh hinges into groin. Lex twists his hips and tries to aim his cock into Clark's mouth but Clark holds him still and keeps licking.
"You're going....to....kill....me," moans Lex.
"Serves you right," says Clark, primly. "This is what you get for trying to make me jealous."
It's Lex's turn to growl. He wriggles in Clark's grip, while Clark turns his attention to the other thigh.
"So soft...." says Clark. He rubs his cheek against Lex's thigh." I could do this all day."
"Going all those places," says Clark, thoughtfully. "Knowing I'd have to come rescue you. Always making trouble."
Lex is writhing beneath him and can barely muster the breath to beg again:
And then Clark relents and starts gently lapping around the base of Lex's cock. Lex moans:
"I'm going to...."
Clark lifts his head:
"You will, when I'm ready."
He dips his head to lick Lex's balls. When his finger brushes Lex's hole, Lex nearly launches them both off the bed.
"Easy...." whispers Clark. Lex can only moan in response.
Clark relaxes his hold on Lex's hips and Lex is finally, gratefully, able to thrust into the tight heat of that perfect mouth. Clark's hair is tangled in his hands; Clark's hands are gripping his thighs....it's a sensory overload of Clark, all the things Lex has wanted for so long, all happening at once.
Lex comes, harder than he's ever come in his life. The room wobbles, goes black.
He revives a few seconds later, wrapped in Clark's arms. Clark's cock is hard against his hip; Clark's eyes are fixed on his. Lex opens his mouth....but embarrassingly, all that comes out is a whimper.
Clark grins, wide and sunny, and Lex's heart constricts. Because that's Clark's old grin: the grin of games of pool, hanging out in the barn, commiserating over their fathers....he hasn't seen that grin in years. Lex reaches out a thumb and draws it across Clark's bottom lip. He traces the line of Clark's cheekbone, his eyebrow; ruffles the long lashes of Clark's right eye. Clark watches him, a tiny smile still in the corner of his mouth, waiting.
Lex leans forward to kiss Clark's ear. He whispers:
Clark shifts forward, a tiny involuntary thrust. He says:
Lex nearly knocks over his bedside table in his hurry to get the lube out of it. Clark hovers over him, impatient, a hand on Lex's hip, lips on his neck.
"Lex, I want-"
Lex starts to stretch himself, hurriedly but Clark knocks his hand aside and takes over, his fingers gently teasing Lex's ass. But it's not working. Lex wants this so badly, too badly. Perhaps that's the reason he can't seem to relax. His body stays tight and tense, resisting Clark's touch.
Lex can feel his panic rising. He wants this, more than anything he has ever wanted, and if he squanders this opportunity, the moment may pass for good and he'll never again....no, don't think of it. Just relax. Relax.
But this, he cannot seem to do. The stakes are too high and his body, his traitorous body, senses it.
Lex whimpers in frustration and then is embarrassed.
"Hey..." says Clark, softly. He turns Lex round, gathers him in his arms. The sternness is gone now; there is nothing but tenderness in Clark's eyes and this undoes Lex even further. He lowers his eyes and stares at the rumpled sheets.
"We'll get there," says Clark. "You just need to...." He rolls Lex onto his stomach. "Relax a little bit."
Soft kiss to the back of Lex's neck, then Clark is kissing his way down Lex's back, hands petting the curve of his waist, the backs of his thighs. Lex throws an arm back to grab Clark but Clark firmly replaces it on the bed.
"Let me take care of you."
Lex shivers as Clark's mouth moves lower. His hands gently squeeze Lex's ass; then his tongue darts into the crease. And then, he's opening Lex up, so carefully, as though Lex might fall apart in his hands. At the first brush from Clark's tongue, Lex forgets to be tense, forgets about controlling the situation, forgets that a Luthor really shouldn't plead and beg so much in bed. It feels so good. He can finally feel himself opening to Clark, letting him in.
"There we go," says Clark. Lex whines as the tongue is withdrawn, then gasps at the press of Clark's cock.
"Tell me if I'm hurting you," says Clark, a little anxiously, but this Lex knows he will never do.
"Oh" says Clark, startled. "You feel-"
Lex grits his teeth but being fucked by Clark is a good pain, a healing pain, one he wouldn't trade for anything in the world. Especially not when Clark rolls him onto his side and lifts Lex's leg so he can thrust deeper, Lex is dimly aware that they're both babbling.
"Love you," says Clark, sounding slightly panicked. "OH! Never stopped loving-"
"Always" says Lex. "Always, Clark."
Clark's mouth is hot against Lex's neck; his arm is a warm comforting band across Lex's chest. In this moment, Lex is held and loved. He tries to memorize the sound of every ragged breath from Clark, the feel of every thrust.
Clark is desperate to come now; he pushes Lex's thighs further apart and thrusts so deep that Lex would swear he can feel him behind his rib cage. Lex tugs at his own cock, wanting to come when Clark does but it takes the sensation of Clark spilling into him to send Lex over the top too.
Afterwards, there is no talk: only panting, Clark's hand gently rubbing his back and an exchange of sleepy satiated grins.
A nightmare wakes Lex. It's one of his standard issue nightmares: the world is destroyed, Clark is dead, and it's all Lex's fault. He shudders into wakefulness and looks over at Clark, so peaceful and beautiful in sleep.
Lex has always found it difficult to enjoy present happiness. He's always thinking back on past misery or ahead to future disaster. And now he worries: if, after this night, this bliss, Clark should walk away from him again...Lex tries to shut his mind to the possibilities but he knows how terrible things could get. Clark doesn't know, still doesn't understand, the full extent of Lex's darkness. How Lex can easily imagine razing the planet to have Clark to himself, how no one could stop him, how Lex couldn't stop himself....
Lex shivers. Clark must sense the motion because without waking, he makes an exasperated grunt. His arm suddenly sweeps across the bed, searching for Lex, finding him, then pulling him close. Claiming him, which is what Lex has always wanted: to be claimed by Clark.
Lex is held in an iron grip, clasped against Clark's chest. He's too hot; Clark is holding him uncomfortably tight. His left leg is twisted into an odd position and there's a crick in his neck.
Lex has never been happier.
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