by Ice and Pablo
TITLE: Chinese Whispers III : Falling
AUTHOR: Ice and Pablo
EMAIL: email@example.com and firstname.lastname@example.org
DISTRIBUTION: List archives OK, anyone else just ask. Archived on Elegant Slumming http://www.obsessedmuch.net/elegant_slumming/
SPOILERS: Set during Cool, spoilers up till then.
CLASSIFICATION: Lex/Whitney, Clark/Lex implied, Clark/Whitney implied
SUMMARY: Decisions need to be made.
FEEDBACK: It makes us sparkle.
DISCLAIMER: If they belonged to us they'd be exhausted. Gough and Millar, The WB and DC comics own all.
DEDICATION: Thanks to Zahra and Vic for beta duties. For Tham and LaT for enabling the obsession and being generally all-round fabulous chicas. And for Ali, just because.
NOTES: This is a sequel to Chinese Whispers I and II, which can be found at http://www.obsessedmuch.net/elegant_slumming/
Sometimes Whitney wonders how far a person can fall before there's no chance of there being anyone able to catch them. He feels like that. Like he's falling, so slowly that he can sense himself losing control every second.
It doesn't matter that he's surrounded by people, voices all blending into one, he feels alone. And falling.
The air is sticky with the smell of stale beer and bonfire smoke and Whitney's wishing he was anywhere else but here right now. He feels like he has to concentrate hard to stay in touch, to not lose sight of the people around him. He feels out of control and unable to do anything about it.
He's only agreed to go tonight because Lana's been getting increasingly irritated with him over the last week or so. More particularly irritated with where his mind has been at, lately. He's already had the 'pay me more attention or I'll walk' ultimatum and he can't deal with that prospect. He desperately needs to hold onto Lana because she's the one thing that makes his life normal and god knows there hasn't been a whole lot of that lately.
The whole mess with Tina Grier and her single-white-femaleness has only made him realise how important Lana is to him, but everything's still spiralling out of control when it comes to all things 'Lex'. He needs to do something about that, to regain control of his thoughts somehow. He's worried that if Lana can tell he hasn't been paying attention to her, then she's going to start questioning exactly where his mind is at.
He hasn't seen Lex at all since the 'incident' at the Luthor house; things have been crazy enough with psychotic coaches and girlfriend-stalkers to even think about that night. It's probably just as well, he needed some space to get his head together and work out what the hell it is he wants. And that's even without dealing with the whole 'Clark issue'.
And he used to think life was complicated? Christ.
"So Sarah said that if that's what he said about her when she was there, what does he say when she isn't. Whitney? Are you even listening?"
And it's happened again. One of those situations that have become too damn familiar lately. Him sitting there contemplating just how fucked-up his life's become as Lana talks away about something utterly trivial. Stuff that doesn't interest him or matter to him in the slightest, and he doesn't mean to, but he just blocks her voice out. He knows better than to admit that to Lana, though, he's not stupid.
"Yeah, Lana, sorry. You were talking about Sarah and... and..."
"Yeah right, Whitney." He can feel the derision as she rolls her eyes heavenward. "I was talking about Sarah and Josh's date last week and how much of a jerk he's being to her." Lana pauses and mutters under her breath... like so many guys I know."
Whitney just ignores the dig and lets Lana keep ranting about Josh and what a pig he is. Sometimes it's just easier to let her talk. He knows Lana, and when she's in such a bad mood with him already, the worst thing he can do is exacerbate the situation by disagreeing with her.
He wonders what it would be like if he was Josh and all he had to worry about was failing English and having a girlfriend who doesn't put out. Things would just be so simple, if he didn't have to worry about being in love with Clark Kent, and if every time he closed his eyes he *didn't* see Lex Luthor pushing him up against a wall before sucking his cock.
This is so the last thing he needs to be thinking about right now. He needs to focus, focus all his attention on Lana and what she's saying. Which would be a hell of a lot easier if when he looked up he didn't see Clark Kent arriving at the party.
Whitney knows he's staring at Clark, and how is he going to explain that to Lana? The fact that he'd rather sit there staring at Clark than listen to her? Oh yeah, he knows how well that would go down.
//About as well as Lex Luthor.//
He keeps coming back to that, every time. No matter who he's talking to, what he's thinking or talking about, invariably his thoughts return to Lex and him doing dirty, sex-type things to him. Lex is more on his mind than the object of his affection who he's currently staring at, and that is kinda scary.
It's like he's turned into a sex addict, only of the gay variety. Small-town-gay-stalker, that's the sort of thing that would really make his mom proud.
"Uh... I think I need to grab another drink, you need one?" He interrupts Lana, mid-rant.
And he can tell that she's pissed, but he needs to get away, needs to get his head clear.
"Whitney? How many have you had?"
"Jeez, Lana. When did I start dating my mother?" Oh fuck. This is what happens when he can't control himself, he just doesn't think. He knows that if Lana wasn't mightily pissed at him before, then insulting her like that would definitely be enough to tip the scales. She's biting her lower lip and he swears he can see her seething, face turning red.
"Sorry, Lana. I'll... I'll just go and get a soda or something. I'll get you one too"
But soda is not what he needs right now. So he makes his way over to the keg, notices Sean hitting on Chloe Sullivan on the way. Wonders if the poor girl knows what she's letting herself in for and shakes his head, laughing. Probably more like what Sean's letting himself in for. He doesn't know Chloe that well, but from what he's heard he's pretty sure she can take care of herself.
"Hey Fordman, how's it goin'?"
Josh is standing right next to the keg when Whitney gets there and pours him a beer. He's with some guy who Whitney doesn't really know, Casey someone-or-other. Not a jock, just one of the 'hangers-on' who thinks that hanging out with people like Josh is their ticket to booze, girls, whatever.
"Uh yeah. Good, Josh... you?"
Whitney remembers how it used to be when everything was so simple. When all he cared about was Lana and being the star quarterback and partying from time to time and he can't even imagine what it would be like for his life to be like that again.
But, really, if he's honest with himself, does he want it to be?
"So you and Lana been keeping pretty cosy lately? We haven't seen you around much."
"Uh yeah... you could say that."
"Just as long as you're not going soft on us, dude. We need you in fighting form for next week's game."
He looks over to where Clark is sitting by himself. Clark always looks so lonely, like he doesn't quite belong. Whitney knows at least he can cover up the fact that he doesn't fit in, but Clark can't and he looks... sad.
Whitney feels this knot of guilt eating away at his insides. Every time he sees Clark, now, it takes Whitney back to that night at Lex's, the fact that Clark was there when Whitney let Lex touch him. It's like he can't separate Clark from Lex, like they're linked together somehow. He knows that Clark would love it if they were, it may not be obvious to anyone else but Whitney can see it. Clark has a thing for Lex.
And how much would it hurt Clark if he knew about Whitney and Lex? It would be bad enough in Clark's mind that Whitney has Lana, but the fact that he's involved with Lex too? He can just imagine how broken Clark would be. Whitney doesn't think he could deal with that, watching the person he... well... loves, or at least thinks he loves, fall apart because of something he was somehow responsible for. No, he definitely couldn't deal with that.
And that says a lot about his relationship with Lana. The fact that he's more concerned about hurting Clark than he is about lying to her or worse, her learning the truth. Yes, it says a lot and none of it good.
Josh is waving his hand in front of Whitney's face. "Earth to Fordman. Dude? You with us?"
Whitney blinks. "Sorry, man. Just zoning out a little, I guess." He takes a large gulp of his beer, alcohol scalding his throat slightly. It leaves an aftertaste that's strong, bitter. But not as bitter as the guilt is making him feel. It's caustic. Corrosive.
There's so much about this whole fucked-up Lex situation that he has to feel guilty for: what he's doing to Clark and Lana, for one. And he thinks a hundred hours of confession with Father Michael wouldn't even come close to absolving him of his sins, because no matter how much the guilt is eating him up, it's not enough to make him stop what he's doing.
He still wants Lex, he's not capable of denying to himself anymore that he does.
"So, you up for some passing action? Hail Mary's, maybe?"
"Sure man. Just lemme talk to Lana."
It's not hard to hear the snickers of the guys, no matter how distracted Whitney is.
Josh slaps Whitney on the back. "We all know who's in charge there, huh dude?"
Oh yeah, *someone's* in charge of Whitney at the moment, but it's most definitely not Lana. He knows the guys think he's being 'pussy-whipped', but really, as far as Lana goes, he's merely trying to keep the peace. And as he gets back to where Lana is sitting, he wonders at the futility of trying even that much. He gets the feeling that nothing he does at the moment is going to be enough for her.
"Hey. Sorry, I got stuck talking to the guys."
She half smiles and at least that's something. Better than the trademark 'Lang glare' although having got to know her Aunt Nell, he wonders whether it should be called the 'Potter glare' instead. It's blatantly obvious where Lana gets her fiery nature from.
Whitney takes advantage of the slight improvement in her mood. "Actually I was gonna go off with them for a while, chuck a ball around. You'll be all right here?"
She sighs; audible exhalation of breath that means the slight improvement in her mood has passed. "Yeah, whatever, Whitney."
"If you want me to stay, I can?"
"No. It's fine. Go spend time with your friends. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself." She has that terse note in her voice that means 'Danger, Will Robinson!' and Whitney backs away from her, realising that the situation isn't salvageable, and it's probably best if he just gives her some space.
He downs the rest of his beer and goes off to join the others. Hopefully if he's actually exerting himself physically, he might be able to keep his mind on something other than Lex Luthor for a while.
Clark hates parties. If he hadn't have been certain of it beforehand, last night's kegger/bonfire debacle was certainly enough to swing his mind in favour of being anti the whole party thing.
He had only gone because Chloe had begged him to. She had convinced him that if he didn't at least make an effort, he was going to be forever pegged as 'Clark Kent, geek-boy'. When she said it might not kill him, that he may even enjoy himself, he had thought what the hell.
But after he'd spent long minutes staring at Lana and Whitney huddled together under a blanket, he'd had enough. That and watching Chloe making the biggest mistake of her life by listening to Sean Kelvin's routine, made him feel like he'd had his fill of parties for what he hopes is a very long time.
He almost prefers being alone like he is now.
Clark loves mornings. Not the getting out of bed part, more the fact that in a way it feels like his time. Maybe it's his father's influence, but Clark's pretty sure even if life takes him away from Smallville that he'll always be the same.
Taking his time to go through his chores. Helping out as much as he can with his speed and strength but the one thing that Clark likes to do most is take his time. He won't admit it, but he likes to pretend he's just a regular kid. That he's normal and that having to get up early to finish his chores is standard. Just like anybody his age that lives on a farm.
It doesn't really matter that Clark could get things done in a tenth of the time, he likes to savour these moments. Moments when he can be alone.
He wipes his hands on the white cotton rag he's holding; removes the grease that's built up on his fingers over the last few hours of cleaning his father's tools. The rag in his hand is stained with so much use, it's faded and pulled slightly thin from so many times when his mom has thrown it in with the wash.
He remembers it as one of his old t-shirts. The memory makes him smile; it must be at least a couple of years old. From when he was going through one of his major growth spurts. For a while he'd been worried he'd actually bankrupt his parents, his mom seemed to spend more time at Fordman's buying him new clothes than at home.
Last of the grease removed from his hands and Clark moves to throw the old shirt back towards the stairs to the barn, to leave it somewhere so he'll remember to take it back in the house. He's about to let go and it's a struggle, even for someone with reflexes as quick as his, to react quickly enough to keep hold of it.
To not throw it at Lex who has apparently materialised at the top of the stairs to the loft.
Lex has this sly grin on his face and that only makes Clark smile back.
"Hey, Clark. Nice catch."
Lex's smile actually grows wider as he moves closer. He's dressed like he always is, dressy, better by a long shot than anything Clark's used to seeing in Smallville.
"Hey, Lex." Without thinking Clark moves his hands behind himself, they're still far from clean and he looks so filthy in contrast to the pristine way Lex looks.
Lex always seems so crisp, so very not Smallville and Clark couldn't feel any more like a country bumpkin even if he was wearing dungarees and a straw hat.
"I was just speaking to your mom, and she said you were up here."
"Yeah I came up here to get away from things."
"Oh, is this a bad time, Clark? I thought you might appreciate the company. What's been bothering you?"
So crisp, so very not Clark.
"No, no I meant... no, it's not a bad time and nothing's wrong, not really. I want you to stay, Lex." Clark certainly doesn't want Lex to leave, as much as he does relish the time alone, having Lex around seems to make things so much more clear.
He's pleased when Lex smiles again, doesn't move away. Stays.
Clark gestures for Lex to sit down, tries to wipe the couch a little so that Lex doesn't worry about where he's sitting. Last-ditch effort to seem at least a little hospitable. Once again Clark feels like a yokel, Lex sitting down on the old dirty couch in a pair of pants that probably cost more than everything in Clark's wardrobe combined.
Clark is a little reassured when Lex doesn't flinch, doesn't seem fazed at all by Clark's surroundings, dirty and grimy as they are.
"So uh... what brings you here? I mean... you said you were talking to Mom?"
He's not quite sure yet of all his powers but he hopes being able to kick himself is one of them. He certainly seems to have mastered the art of putting at least one foot in his mouth. Lex seems to have that effect on him. He causes Clark to need to make the extra effort, to ensure he doesn't say the wrong thing. Clark surprises himself by actually liking that fact. Liking how he constantly worries about blurting out something stupid or juvenile.
"Well I was just making some enquiries about artichokes." Lex of course doesn't have the same issues with talking as Clark does. Never says the wrong thing and he always sounds like he's been practising what he says for hours before saying it, although Clark knows he hasn't. So crisp, so precise. "Word is the Kents grow the best artichokes... and pretty much everything else as well."
And that's another thing Clark likes, the innuendo.
He knows he's blushing, when he looks up at Lex his face is covered in a smile. Even if he wanted to, Clark couldn't stop himself from mimicking the double entendres.
"Best produce in the region, I'm told."
Clark just sits down on the arm at the other end of the couch. He's still a little embarrassed, but he's feeling a whole lot better than he was before Lex arrived.
"But I didn't come here to talk about artichokes."
"So why did you come here, Lex... I mean..."
And it looks like Clark needs to keep practising this, "sorry, I didn't mean..."
Lex just shakes his head, though, letting Clark know he doesn't need to explain himself.
"I wanted to make sure everything was okay. You've been a little... distracted lately. Like you've just found out something's not quite right"
"Is this because you can't play football?"
"Jeez , when you put it like that I sound like a total dork."
The two of them are laughing. Clark's sure that Lex should seem out of place, clad in expensive clothes and sitting on the end of the couch in Clark's loft, but he doesn't.
"You don't sound like a dork, Clark. I know what it's like to want something and not be able to have it. It takes some adjusting but sooner or later you... find another way of getting it."
And that was definitely not what Clark was expecting Lex to say. He wants to make him clarify what he means but all Clark can manage is a shocked exclamation. "What?" His voice is just a little too loud considering they're only about a foot apart.
"I'm not advocating going against what your father has said, Clark. All I'm saying is that if you want something badly enough sometimes you need to bend the rules a little. Like with Lana."
"Don't. That's one thing I'm pretty sure I can't have." It's also one thing he's been trying since last night to not think about.
"Come on, Clark, you don't exactly seem like the type to give up."
But what has he got to give up on? A childhood crush? He's pretty sure Lana doesn't like him, well, not like in the way she likes Whitney and that might be a good thing. Does Clark want to be in a position where he has to lie, to hide the truth from her? The truth about who and what he really is?
The way he's hiding it from Lex.
"Yeah, but sometimes I'm not sure if this is the right thing? I mean she's with Whitney and I know she loves him and..."
Lex is nodding his head; he waits for Clark to finish before he starts to speak.
"See this is what I like about you, Clark. No matter what, you're a good person."
"Yeah, a good person who *isn't* dating Lana Lang."
Mumbled under his breath, but he's not surprised that it's picked up. Lex doesn't say anything, but one eyebrow is arched slightly and that just makes Clark wonder if he could have sounded any more like an eight-year old.
"All I'm going to say is don't write things off just because they seem unlikely. Things could change in an instant, Clark."
And Clark believes him. Why wouldn't he? Lex has been through so much more than he has, seen so much more. It doesn't matter that Clark's from god-knows where and Lex is from a place so many light years closer.
He's pretty sure Lex knows what he's talking about.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Let's just say I think Lana's with the wrong guy, Clark. Trust me, you never know when your luck just might change."
Clark simply nods.
"Well, Clark. I'd better be going."
"Sure, Lex and... thanks."
Clark stands as soon as Lex gets up. Watches him as he moves out of the barn.
"Any time, Clark"
Clark's alone again, like he wanted to be. Except now the loft seems so much emptier.
Whitney doesn't believe in reincarnation. If he did, though, he'd really be questioning what he'd done in his previous lives that has messed up his karma so badly. At least if he believed in that, there'd be an explanation for why everything lately has been going so badly.
His luck doesn't seem to be getting any better either, in fact, it seems to be far worse than it's ever been.
A few months ago, he strung Clark up in a field, and perhaps that was the incident that sparked this run of bad luck, because, well, if it was he would most certainly deserve it all. It's also that particular incident that sparked his first 'meeting' with Lex. And therein lies the dilemma: would he have rather not met the guy? Does he want things to be this fucked-up?
A couple of weeks ago, it would've been a resounding yes and no, respectively. But now, he's not so sure. Things just can't go back to the way they were before, because he's different now and a part of him is relieved that at last he can be honest with himself.
However, another part of him is incredibly pissed about the whole situation and the way in which Lex is fucking with him and that's the part of him that is currently watching Lex make conversation with Lana, the smell of burned coffee only serving to heighten his discomfort. He can only imagine what Lex is saying to his girlfriend.
Imagination is a dangerous thing. Almost as dangerous as Lex.
Whitney just stands there and watches the two of them, Lex leaning over Lana and talking in that intent manner he only reserves for people he's really interested in. People he wants to control in some way.
Whitney feels this pang in his stomach. Bitter, acid kind of feeling and he realises he's jealous. And that is severely fucked; because it's not jealousy of Lex he's feeling, but jealousy of Lana. And if he said it aloud how fucking ridiculous would that sound?
Jealous of his girlfriend because his... what? Tormentor? Lover? Potential fuck? Is ignoring him and paying her his undivided attention.
And yes, Lex is most definitely ignoring him. Anyone else and Whitney would just assume they were unaware of his presence, but Lex is never unaware of anything. He noticed the way Lex's eyes flicked up briefly as Whitney walked in and he knows he wasn't imagining the corner of his mouth turning up into a grin the way it did when Whitney started watching the two of them.
He notices Lex's head come up as his name's called out. Doesn't even look to see who it is, because before he can look away Lex is no longer ignoring him. The exact opposite in fact, Lex is staring him straight in the eye, holding his gaze and Whitney can't help but feel like he's been busted.
Red flush staining his cheeks as he walks over to where Lana is sitting and as Lex moves away to a nearby seat, he can still feel that gaze on him. Piercing, making him feel like he's being stalked.
He hasn't forgotten that tomorrow he was supposed to be spending time with Lana, that they'd planned to go to the museum, but at the moment lies seem to come as naturally to Whitney as breathing. So before he can even stop himself, keep himself in check, the words are falling out of his mouth. Lies contaminating the air between them.
"Actually, some of the guys are pooling together and watching the fight on pay-per-view. It's tomorrow."
He's expecting Lana to lose it, to go off at him for not paying enough attention to her, yet again. But she does the opposite, she's understanding. The curiosity is almost killing him, what the fuck has Lex been saying to her?
Not that he isn't immensely grateful for the lack of confrontation, of course. If Lana had got all 'Little Miss Pouty' on his ass he would've had to have stood his ground. There's no way in hell he's ever giving Lex the opportunity to think he's Lana-whipped. He can just imagine the satisfaction that would give him.
But despite that, Whitney finds himself uttering a half-hearted apology for his standing her up. He looks up briefly and he can see Lex intently watching, slight smile on his face and Whitney wonders exactly what Lex is playing at this time.
That's all it ever seems to be about with Lex, just one big game.
Well, Whitney's tired of playing, or more accurately of being played. He's sick of being treated like some rich boy's toy.
As he leaves Lex and Lana in the Beanery, he can see where Lex's car is parked. It's not exactly hard to spot a vehicle like that. Even if he has to stand there waiting for hours until it's dark, he will.
This time he's going to get some answers.
The paintwork on Lex's car probably cost more than Whitney's wages for working at his dad's store for an entire year, and so he knows he probably shouldn't be sitting on it. He knows there's a chance he's damaging it in some way, but he couldn't care less right now. Lex isn't short on cash and, well, if the paintwork gets damaged slightly from Whitney's contact, then so be it.
At least it'll get Lex's attention.
And could he be any more pathetic? He's currently acting like a 13-year-old girl with a crush and it's just so wrong. Whitney doesn't want to feel like this. Out of control, and wanting... so much. He may not like Lex very much right now, but he certainly wants him and he thinks it's about time he let him know.
His jealousy is reaching boiling point.
It was bad enough that he had to witness the interaction between Lex and Lana in the Beanery, but now he has to sit by and watch Clark and Lex talking nearby. Talking? Flirting would be a more appropriate word.
He honestly doesn't know who he's more jealous of in this situation. He still has feelings for Clark, still wants him. But it's almost like Clark is a symbol of something he knows he can never have.
But Lex? There's something so scarily real about the feelings Whitney has for Lex that he can't hide behind analogies or symbolism. In fact, he can't hide behind anything.
Lex forces him to be honest and that scares the hell out of him. He's spent so long trying to deny who he is, that lying to himself, to other people is easy. The facade of golden boy, devoted boyfriend is what he lives with every day. And now he's being forced to admit that that's not who he is and it's frightening.
So yeah, nothing to hide behind and nothing to stop those pangs of jealousy from growing in his mind. He can't help but stare at Clark and wonder what it is Lex is saying to him. Doesn't really care who sees him leaning there on the car, watching the two of them either. He's past caring about pretty much everything right now.
He looks away for a minute and before he can even react, Lex is making his way over to the car, slight grin on his face.
Whitney wonders if Lex is ever not all about 'the sex'. He doubts it. Something that can't be escaped, sex is entangled in everything about Lex, even his walk. Whitney finds himself staring, mouth slightly open, slight knot developing in his stomach. Realises this has been the first time that the two of them have been alone since that night at the castle all those weeks ago.
Avoidance, thy name is Whitney Fordman.
"And to what do I owe this pleasure, Whitney?"
Whitney clears his throat, means to say something nonchalant, relaxed, but he finds himself just blurting it out, saying the one thing that's foremost in his mind right now. "What were you talking to him about?" 'Him', not Lana and he's shaking his head at himself, can't believe that he's been so clumsy. Lex makes him like this. Undignified.
Lex laughs. "Relax, Whitney. I don't kiss and tell."
Not only does Lex make Whitney act in ways he never would with other people, but no-one else has the ability to make Whitney feel like this. Like an ignorant child. Like he's so completely inferior he may as well just keep his mouth shut. He hates being made to feel like an idiot, it raises his hackles, it makes him defensive.
Whitney spits out his words like venom. It may not make any difference to Lex, but it sure makes him feel like he's doing something other than lying down and playing dead. "And Lana? If I find out you've been telling her, I'll..."
Lex just raises an eyebrow. "You'll do what, Whitney? Not let me get down on my knees and suck your cock? Oh, it's a bit late for that, isn't it?"
Whitney's mouth gapes open. His hands are starting to get clammy and he rubs them together. Lex isn't exactly being quiet, and while he doesn't care too much about who sees the two of them together, loud conversations about blowjobs in the middle of the main street are a different matter entirely.
Lex walks away from Whitney, to the opposite side of the car. Shrugs his shoulders. "Anyway, that's not what I want now."
Whitney turns around to face him. Voice soft, defeated. "You don't want... what do you want, Lex?"
Lex just smiles and unlocks the car. Whitney looks away from him, back at the Beanery. He can't help feeling guilty that he's left Lana in there, and since when did he become the worst boyfriend in the world? He can probably pin that down to the exact time that he started thinking about having sex with other people. With men. The day that Lex first touched him.
"Oh, incidentally, if you want to know what those two are up to, Clark's gone in to ask Lana out, to a Radiohead concert he was given tickets to."
Whitney can't believe this. He glares at Lex and shakes his head. He can't even find the words to express how angry Lex has made him. How the fuck does he do that? If Lex's plan is to ruin his life, he's going about it the right way.
Lex tilts his head, voice taking on that patronising tone that he so often seems to direct at Whitney. "You can't actually tell me you're surprised?"
Whitney clenches his jaw. "Do I even need to ask where Clark got the tickets?"
Lex just laughs and gets in, opens the passenger door for Whitney and pats the leather seat next to him, before starting the engine.
Whitney's still angry at Lex, but he realises this is as good an invitation as he's going to get right now. He's not stupid, he may be angry at Lex, but he still wants him, wants... something, anything. Whatever he can get.
The car has been sitting in the sun for too long and the seats are boiling hot. When Whitney climbs in he can feel the perspiration forming on his back, but he has to wonder if the heat and the slightly claustrophobic feeling he gets have anything to do with the temperature at all.
The study's overly warm and he feels almost like he could melt in there. Too much heat and isn't that the perfect analogy for this situation. Just too much heat, so much that he doesn't know if he can cope with it.
He's still angry that Lex is playing matchmaker with Clark and Lana. It's gnawing away at him, but it's not a good enough reason for him to not take whatever it is that Lex is offering. Whitney isn't strong enough to 'test' Lex. To see if he can take back some of the control that he seems to be very rapidly losing to him. Isn't strong enough to turn Lex down.
Whitney doesn't think he could take that risk, but that doesn't mean he's going to just ignore the wrongness of what Lex has been doing, either.
Lex is pouring himself a drink. He assumes it's scotch, and inevitably very expensive scotch. Lex would only drink the expensive stuff, because he can. He thinks if there was one thing that sums up Lex's behaviour that would be it.
Because he can.
"Drink?" He shakes his head at the offer. Lex shrugs,
"Suit yourself, Whitney."
Lex sits down, takes a sip from his drink and then places it on the glass-topped table. Whitney's almost mesmerised by the reflection, which gives him something to concentrate on, something other than Lex's gaze. Right now he needs to try and keep his cool, regain control of his senses and that's not going to happen by drinking and staring at Lex.
There's something so... intense about Lex. Intense and irresistible and it's pretty much impossible to hold his own when he's faced with that.
"So what the hell were you doing with Clark and Lana?"
"Helping out a friend."
Lex is enjoying this and Whitney's becoming increasingly agitated. His voice grows in volume and it's just as well Lex's staff have left, because he's pretty sure he sounds like a drama queen right now. "What, by setting him up with my girlfriend?"
Lex just shakes his head and smiles, it seems rather condescending and Whitney knows that's intentional. He's the child right now and Lex is the teacher, and isn't that just so typical of the way Lex is with him? "It wasn't Clark I was helping, Whitney. It was you."
Whitney's confused; does Lex really think he was helping him? What good could this situation possibly serve?
"Lex, I... I don't like you interfering in my life, okay?"
Lex downs the rest of his drink and stands up to pour another. "Well, maybe I don't like you fucking the cheerleader, either."
Whitney is floored, just stands there stammering. "I don't... we're not. And she's not even a cheerleader anymore."
Not exactly the wittiest of retorts, but Whitney's still a little taken aback by what Lex has said. He would never have imagined Lex would care either way about any aspect of his life, let alone Lana.
Lex pours his drink and moves closer. "I'm well aware of that, Whitney, but the label works for me. So she won't even let you fuck her? Not good enough for her either, are you? Smallville's golden-boy doesn't ever get to fuck who he wants. First Lana, now Clark? So very pathetic."
Whitney's damned if he's just going to stand there and take any more of Lex's insults. Whitney grabs Lex by the front of his shirt, hauls him in close and glares at him, anger not dissipating as he notes the sly grin on Lex's face.
He's not entirely sure of it but he's got a pretty good idea that it's not just momentum that's forced Lex's body flush against his own.
Whitney's so angry right now that he can't think of anything to say that would pack the necessary punch. Angrier than he's been in a long time and Lex laughing in his face doesn't help ease his mood in the slightest. He knows deep down that he's out of his league here and he's not really seeing the advantages in this situation anymore. He just can't be bothered with the games Lex keeps playing with him.
Whitney drops his hands and doesn't even look at Lex, pushes him away slightly so the other man isn't so close. He needs space, his emotions spiralling out of control. He can't think, can't let his mind process any rational thought with Lex Luthor only inches away from him, their bodies touching. Just not touching enough. Instead Whitney just walks towards the door.
Lex's voice cuts through the silence, it's brittle and cold.
"If you walk out that door, Whitney, don't ever think you'll have another chance of coming back here."
That stops Whitney in his tracks, because as angry as he is with him, he doesn't know whether he's ready to give up what he could have. Whitney realises he's come too far to go back now, regardless of how he's feeling emotionally. He needs something to fill the need, that gaping hole that Lex has opened up inside of him.
He's not the same as he was before and Whitney knows even if he wanted to there's no way he could go back to being 'that' Whitney Fordman. Mental images of knocking a square peg into a round hole flash across Whitney's brain. The image isn't lost on him and he can feel his heartbeat racing. No longer out of fear.
"I think it's about time we stopped playing around, started getting a little more serious. Playtime's over, Whitney."
"I just... I don't want to see Lana get hurt." Whitney's voice is soft, almost defeated. He doesn't have the strength to put up a fight anymore, and Lex knows it. What's more, Whitney knows he knows it. He keeps facing away from Lex, because as much as he's ready to accept defeat, he's not ready for Lex to see it in his face.
"Yeah, well, sometimes it's not about you, Whitney. Maybe it's about what I want."
Whitney takes a deep inhalation of breath, slowly turns around, but he's still avoiding Lex's eyes. "Wh-what do you want?"
"You'll have to try better than that, Whitney."
Whitney takes a deep breath and for the first time in what seems like so long, looks directly at Lex. He's leaning against the desk, staring at Whitney, expectantly. And Whitney realises that as much as he's giving up, Lex still expects him to make decisions here. That if he doesn't make an effort then Lex isn't going to, either.
Whitney moves closer and as he does, he notices how sheer the material of Lex's shirt is. It's reflecting the light and it has this sheen to it. And it strikes him as a perfect metaphor for Lex. You never quite know exactly what you're going to find with him, nothing is what it seems at first glance. It's part of the thrill. Nothing's really hidden, all out there on the surface but you can't see anything unless you make the effort. Unless you work for it.
Everything about Lex seems like a challenge. Offer and acceptance.
Lex is like a rollercoaster, an amusement ride; because any minute now Whitney knows his stomach is going to drop ten storeys or so, just like when he went on the rollercoaster when he was a kid. Except that this time there's lust tied up in the fear and excitement, too.
Whitney reaches Lex and just stares for a bit. He watches as Lex licks a drop of alcohol from his lips, tongue resting on the scar there, and Whitney feels his cock jerk as he remembers how it felt having that mouth wrapped around him. Sucking him, tasting him.
Now he's going to have to do the same for Lex. The realisation of that hadn't quite hit until now, that he's about to give Lex a blowjob and it's kind of a scary thought. Something that despite all of his time spent thinking he hasn't really processed in his mind. No amount of fantasising could have prepared him for the feel of Lex's mouth around his cock.
And now it's his turn.
He knows this'll be what Lex is expecting though, so Whitney drops to his knees without too much hesitation. He doesn't have any time to process what's happening before Lex is pulling him back up to his feet and now Whitney's panicking slightly, feeling self-conscious and like he's... failed somehow.
"Lex, I'm... what? Did I do something wrong?"
Lex just smiles. "No, Whitney. Not wrong." He leans in and Whitney can feel warm breath on his neck, "I can get my cock sucked anytime I want and that's not how I'm going to come this evening."
Whitney swallows audibly and Lex has one hand in his hair, pulling him in. He licks at Whitney's bottom lip, before pulling it into his mouth, nibbling at it, sucking on it. Whitney moans as Lex pushes his tongue slowly in, tasting him. Slow strokes over his teeth and palate and Whitney can feel himself getting harder.
Whitney thinks Lex must've kissed a hell of a lot of people in his life, because his technique is perfect, like he's had all the time and experience in the world to get to this point. Whitney's never been kissed like this before, and kiss doesn't even seem to be a strong enough word. He's had some pretty nice ones from Lana, but they never made him feel like this: horny as hell and prepared to beg for more. Whitney feels like he's a fucking amateur and all he can do is let Lex lead him.
Lex is sucking on his tongue now, as his hand moves down to Whitney's chest, fingers brushing over one of his nipples. Whitney tries to contain the shivers that pass through his whole body, but Lex notices. Of course he does.
Lex tastes like scotch, and Whitney swears he could come from this alone, just from that tongue in his mouth and Lex's fingers rubbing Whitney's nipple through his shirt. The combination of the alcohol he can taste and the touch and the way Lex is fucking his mouth makes him feel light-headed and unsteady on his feet.
Grabbing Whitney's arms and turning him around so his back is against the desk, Lex pushes Whitney down until he's sitting on it. He takes hold of Whitney's right hand and dips two fingers into the glass of scotch.
"Taste them." Lex's voice is low, rough and it goes straight to Whitney's cock. Whitney puts the alcohol-soaked fingers into his mouth and sucks on them slightly. The scotch is warm and strong. Sharpness burning his tongue a little.
Lex pulls Whitney's fingers out of his mouth and begins to lick them clean, tongue moving slowly over each digit, taking his time to taste every inch of Whitney's skin. Moving slowly over the length before tonguing in between them. All Whitney can do is gasp as he feels the roughness of Lex's tongue against him; staring at him as he removes the moisture from Whitney's skin with his tongue.
Lex pauses to take another large gulp of scotch, grabs the back of Whitney's neck and pulls him in. Moves his tongue into his mouth and just lets the alcohol seep in. He holds Whitney's head still and sucks on his tongue, fast and rough. Whitney's mouth is full of alcohol as he swallows. Gulping against the heat of Lex's tongue as he dips into his mouth, slow rhythm that Whitney just rides.
He moans as Lex starts to kiss his neck, tongue dragging roughly along the hollow between neck and collarbone. He trails wet, open-mouthed kisses up the long column until he gets to Whitney's ear. Tongue pushing in slowly, wetly and then out again. Feels so wrong, so very dirty and so fucking good. His hips buck upwards, trying to rub against Lex, he needs friction, needs to feel that Lex is as hard as he is.
Whitney's making noises that sound like need, want and desperation. He's not used to feeling this desperate but right now he's not capable of doing anything but going with it, with this. Just enjoying the way Lex is touching him, tasting him. Nothing else matters to him at all.
Lex has his mouth on Whitney's ear-lobe, whispering, husky broken voice that makes Whitney gasp a little. "I'm going to fuck you, Whitney, slow, hard. Make you beg for it. Beg for me to bury my cock deep inside you. That's what you want, isn't it, Whitney? You want me to fuck you? Want me to make you come, screaming out my name? "
Whitney can't even fathom how he's managed to get himself into this situation, sitting there as Lex whispers obscenities in his ear. He should be scared. What Lex is talking about should be fucking terrifying to him but it's not. He wants this, needs this and he can't believe he ever considered walking away from it. "Yeah. Fuck yes, Lex. I want - I want you."
The only answer he could possibly give.
"Good." Lex tilts Whitney's head back, presses the cool glass against his lips and pours. The remainder of the drink fills Whitney's mouth. Reminds him of the way that Lex kissed him, the way that he tastes. The alcohol scalds his throat as he struggles to swallow. He's starting to feel a little tipsy, heady combination of alcohol and arousal and his head's spinning.
Lex moves away and Whitney's freaking out just a little, panicking because he thinks he's fucked it all up and Lex is going to leave him sitting there looking the way he does. Mouth swollen, breath coming in short bursts, sweat covering his upper lip and his jeans so much tighter than they were before. He thinks he must look thoroughly debauched.
Lex walks away, newly poured drink in hand. Whitney's contemplating the quickest way to get home so he can lock himself in his bedroom and jerk off, although at the moment he's so fucking horny that he'd probably do it right here. On Lex's desk. But Lex is pulling his own shirt off and just letting it drop to the floor, walking away without looking back and if that's not an invitation, Whitney doesn't know what is.
So this is it, then. He either follows Lex, who's going to touch him and fuck him, or he goes home.
And now Whitney really does know what it feels like to be falling. Endless tumble until you begin to wonder if you'll ever strike ground. Ever stop falling. But nothing's infinite. You always land somewhere and it seems that Lex is the only one that can stop him. The only one who can fill the void.
Lex is naked by the time Whitney reaches his room. He can't help but stare at him, mouth wide open and looking like a stunned rabbit. He would've never guessed just how amazing Lex's body would be, business clothes not doing him enough justice, whatsoever, but his body is impressive. Lean and lightly muscled with skin so flawless that Whitney just wants to touch. He moves in, but Lex has one hand up, stopping him from moving any closer.
He shakes his head whilst he speaks, "I want to watch you undress for me."
Whitney nervously takes off his jacket and pulls his t-shirt and sweater over his head. He's trying not to feel self-conscious about this, but having Lex standing there looking like he's about to devour his next meal isn't exactly helping. He bends down to untie his sneakers and take off his socks and when he stands up, Lex is just staring at him. So potent that Whitney swears he can actually feel Lex's gaze as it trails over his now-exposed body. Tongue swiping over his lower lip as Whitney takes off his jeans and boxers, and now he's naked, cool air hitting his skin.
Lex just grins and moves in, pushing him back on the bed. Grabs his drink from the bedside table and climbs up until he's straddling Whitney's hips. Lex's grip on the glass never faltering and when he moves, Whitney can feel Lex's cock brushing against his skin. The contact feels so warm and whenever the two of them touch Whitney swears it feels like he's melting. He worries about how long he'll be able to cope, how long before he's reduced to a puddle of nothing but lust and need. All rational thought gone.
Lex dips his fingers inside the glass and then downs the rest of the alcohol, discarding the empty glass on the floor. He traces patterns on Whitney's chest and nipples with his alcohol-soaked fingers. Whitney flinches, the alcohol stinging his sensitised flesh, but not for long, because Lex is tonguing him, removing the alcohol. Lips surrounding one nipple and sucking, grazing it with his teeth before moving on to the other one.
"Tell me what you like, Whitney." Lex's thumb is rubbing one of his hipbones and Whitney's squirming, hips moving up and down, trying to gain more contact.
"Th-this." Whitney's surprised he can even manage that much. He again wonders how the fuck Lex seems to stay so in control.
Lex stills his movement and just looks down at him, unreadable statement on his face. "Tell me..."
Whitney looks up at him, desperation evident. He knows Lex is playing with him, but right now he doesn't much care. The only important thing is that Lex starts touching him again. "I like... I like it when you touch me. When you touch my cock."
Lex trails his fingers over Whitney's torso. "Mmmm... I like that too."
"I like it almost as much as when you were sucking me, when you were sucking my cock." Whitney's amazed at himself for being able to just come out and say it, like it's the most natural thing in the world. It's not like he's ever been able to say anything like that aloud before, but he can sense this real shift in himself.
Lex moves off of him and rolls him over.
"Get up on your hands and knees, Whitney." Lex's tone is completely serious and Whitney doesn't even think about arguing. He gets up on all fours and Lex is pushing him forward, so he's resting against his outstretched arms, head pushed against the pillow at the head of the bed.
He doesn't have any time to register what's going on before Lex is spreading him wide, and oh Christ, tasting him. Tongue tracing between his cheeks and he has never felt anything like this. So good it's almost painful and he's moaning.
So ripe and open and Lex is right there, with his tongue and, oh God... like nothing Whitney has ever felt before.
"Do you like this, Whitney?"
Tongue circling his hole. Hot, wet and it's so unbelievably, insanely good that he's making noises that sound almost feral, savage, and he just can't hold them in. He doesn't think he can speak, he's breathing his words out and he doesn't even know if Lex can hear him, "god... god, yeah." He doesn't want Lex to stop.
Lex's tongue actually dipping inside him now and Whitney feels like his head's going to explode. He's panting and it's just as well he's got the support of the bed, because the feelings he's having are so intense he feels like he could lose his balance and black out if he wasn't already resting forward. He feels so much more light-headed than he did from the alcohol, he can't even keep his eyes open as he feels Lex toy with him.
Feels Lex withdraw his tongue and whisper, warm breath against his ass. "Tell me what else you like."
And Whitney can't believe Lex is making him speak when he's in this condition, but he knows if he doesn't there's every chance Lex is going to stop and that's something he definitely doesn't want. "I... I love feeling your skin against mine, feeling you press your body against me." Pauses as he feels Lex lapping at his ass. "Oh... fuck... I love how warm you feel. I love how it feels when you touch me."
Heart pounding and adrenaline racing though his body and he can feel Lex pushing his tongue slowly inside him, fucking him. He's whimpering now, almost mewling and yeah, soon there'll be begging, he knows that if Lex keeps this up he will own him.
Voice barely above a whisper, "I love how you make me feel."
Lex pulls his tongue nearly all the way out and then pushes back in, really slowly. Repeats the motion and Whitney's bearing down on it, can't help but move and Lex is fucking him, slow, deep and it's so fucking perfect. "God, Lex."
He pulls out again and without thinking Whitney whimpers in disappointment.
Lex is panting, breathing audibly. "Keep going, Whitney..."
"I-I love it when I know that you're watching me. When I'm with... the others. At-at the Beanery, or in town. I love it when I look at you and I can see that you've been staring at me." Whitney pauses, as Lex starts to tongue him again, faster this time. "Uh... I love it that I can feel you watching me even if I can't see you."
Whitney's thrusting his hips all that much faster now and Lex is holding him, stopping him from moving. Whitney knows this is all about control, he's not the one who has it right now, and he's okay with that. As long as Lex keeps doing this, touching him like this, he'll do anything.
Lex pulls Whitney up to his knees and moves in close behind him, hands grasping his hips. Whitney can feel Lex's cock against his ass and he wants to move against it, but he knows while Lex is holding onto him like that, that's going to be almost impossible.
Lex's mouth is on his neck and he's whispering now, low, broken whisper. "How does that make you feel, Whitney?"
Whitney moans as he feels Lex's tongue trace a line down his back and then up again. One of Lex's hands wraps around the front of Whitney's body, his mouth back up to his neck and Lex is breathing audibly against him. His arm crosses the sweat-sheened surface of Whitney's chest diagonally, cupping and squeezing the hard muscle. Whitney rocks his body unconsciously as Lex holds him close, and Whitney can feel the strong muscles of Lex's chest and stomach pressing against his back.
"It makes me feel like if they... if the others weren't there that you'd be doing more than just staring."
"Yeah..." Lex stops rubbing Whitney's chest with the palm of his hand and moves to one of his nipples. Rolls it between his fingers and that makes Whitney gasp even more.
"It makes me feel like you want to do things to me." Whitney lowers his head and just concentrates on the feel of Lex's mouth on the side of his neck, his fingers on his nipple.
"Things? What things?"
"Things like this."
Lex's voice is insistent. "Tell me what you want me to do, Whitney."
Whitney knows that Lex is going to drag this out of him even if it takes hours and he's not prepared for it to take hours. He's never done anything like this, but he knows he needs... more. He's not above begging, pleading, demeaning himself to get it, either. "I want... I want, want you to fuck me. God, Lex. I need to feel you inside me. I want you so fucking bad."
Whitney looks back at Lex when he feels him pull away. He feels so exposed now that Lex isn't curled against him, warmth of his skin cocooning him. Lex is squeezing some sort of gel on his fingers, lube he assumes. Lex pulls his head back kisses him as Whitney feels one slick finger move inside him, soon to be joined by another. Lex is moving those fingers inside him, deep, so very deep and then back out again. Slowly, languidly. Fucking him and it's all Whitney can do to not push back and just scream. Howl out in pleasure as he rides the slick length of Lex's fingers.
It's stretching him and there's pain, shooting pain right through him. And it's horrible, awful. But he remembers to breathe, and it starts to subside a little. It feels intense, amazing. Pleasure and pain so close together. He's rocking back onto Lex's fingers, moaning loudly. "I... Oh God... I want you to make me come... want you to...uhh... come buried deep inside me... please, Lex?"
One hard, deep thrust and Lex is pressed close again sucking on his lower lip as Whitney twists back. "Careful, Whitney. Good boys don't say things like that."
"Fuck." Breathe. "Good... boys."
Whitney can hear Lex laughing.
"Besides, I don't wanna be good if this is the alternative."
Right now, Whitney's thinking that being bad certainly has its advantages. So caught up in that thought that he almost doesn't hear Lex speak:
"What about Clark and Lana?"
Whitney doesn't know how much longer he's going to last. Slick fingers thrusting in so hard and deep now that he feels like he can't take any more. Every so often he feels Lex brush even deeper and he cries out. Can't really string sentences together now, he's just panting out words, "Don't want..."
"Really? Not even Clark?"
And Whitney can't even think about Clark right now, he's nowhere near the forefront of his mind. It's like when Lex is around everyone else ceases to exist, it was like that before, let alone now when Lex is doing such amazing things to him. Whitney's obsessed, addicted, and at least now he's allowed to admit it. "Don't want Clark. Fuck..." He's biting on his lower lip, and he dreads to think how he looks right now, can feel the sweat dripping down his brow, hair plastered down and he's moaning, panting. "I just... want you, Lex. Want you to fuck me. Please?"
Lex is practically purring in his ear. "I knew you'd beg for it like this, Whitney. So fucking perfect." Whitney looks back and can see Lex is moving away, grabbing a condom from next to the bed. There's movement that Whitney barely notices and after what seems like too long he can feel Lex line himself up against Whitney's ass, rocking his hips forward, pushing in slowly.
Whitney feels like he's burning from the inside out. If he thought it felt intense when Lex's fingers were inside him nothing has prepared him for this. White-hot pain searing through him, but it's so close to pleasure again that it doesn't matter. Hurts, hurts like nothing else, but it's so fucking good at the same time. Lex pulls out again slowly, until only the tip of his cock is inside him and then he moves forward again, in deeper this time until Whitney can feel Lex's hips flush against his ass.
Lex starts a rhythm, slow and altogether much more gentle than anything Whitney would have expected of him. And as Lex pulls out again, it gets a hell of a lot better and the discomfort's forgotten about. Whitney finds himself pushing back against Lex and this is apparently all the impetus Lex needs. He starts slamming in, hard and then pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in. He grabs Whitney's shoulder for leverage, fucks him ruthlessly.
Lex rubs the head of Whitney's cock, eliciting a gasp from Whitney. Lex's thumb smoothing the pre-come in circles. Whitney had almost forgotten how hard he was but as soon as Lex touches him he remembers. So very hard and so very close to coming. Lex's hand surrounds Whitney's cock, making a tight fist. Slickness of the remaining lube on Lex's fingers and this feels so much better to Whitney than all the times he's jerked himself off. So much better that it's not even comparable. He can feel Lex's fist moving up and down his cock in time with the thrusts Lex is making into his ass. Lex's hand is a tight, tight channel that Whitney can thrust into, and he's moaning, whimpering.
One more stroke and he's moaning, thrusting his hips desperately and yelling as he comes into the warmth of Lex's fist.
A few more thrusts and Lex is coming. Panting, pulling Whitney back against him so Whitney can feel everything. For a moment Lex holds him there and Whitney can feel how his back is covered in tiny droplets of sweat. He presses back against the hard strength of Lex's chest. His head is thrown back and from this position he can feel Lex panting, stomach rising and falling as he gulps in small breaths. Whitney still isn't under control either and each time he feels a tiny spasm of pleasure coursing through Lex's body that feeling is transmitted through to his own skin. Lex is still buried inside him as both of them try to regain control.
Whitney is nowhere near calm as Lex finally pulls out carefully. He barely notices Lex dispose of the condom, before he returns and collapses next to Whitney.
Lex just lies there, staring intently at Whitney and licking his own fingers. Whitney reaches out and circles Lex's wrist with his hand, pulls him closer, tongue darting out and removing his own come from Lex's hand. It doesn't taste so bad, just a bit strange... but that could sum up the afternoon really. Very strange.
Whitney's too satiated to move; instead he just lays there. Tries to control the smile that he can feel growing on his face. He can still feel the way Lex was touching him, and his eyes drift close as he remembers the feel of him, the taste of him.
He certainly wouldn't have expected when he got out of bed that morning that he'd be spending the afternoon losing his virginity to the same person he was only hours ago monumentally pissed at.
Lex leans in and rubs Whitney's jawline with his thumb. "You'll have to go, Whitney. You can take a shower if you like, but I have plans for tonight and you can't stay."
Whitney's not surprised that Lex isn't one to bask in the afterglow, and before today this kind of behaviour would've really angered him, but today it's enough that Lex wanted him. In the grand scheme of things that means something.
He's not an idiot, from now on he'll take what he can get.
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