The Unexpected IV: Explaining

by zahra

For Yvette, Ali and Wendi.

The only kind of delusion Lex has ever experienced has come courtesy of little white pills with the Mitsubishi logo on them. Yet another reason that he only buys foreign cars, and his urine tests will prove that Lex hasn't touched anything Class A in at least six weeks; which means there's absolutely no reason for Lex to be this fucked up mentally. There's no reason for him to be in denial or repression, except for the alien thing that he's been dwelling on and drowning in.

Lex has an alien boyfriend.

But Lex isn't a mother hen or a teenage girl, so he's not worrying about that. Lex never worries because there are people who are paid to do that for him. Luthors don't even need the word in their vast lexicons.

Only it's not the alien thing that's got Lex looking into private islands and nuclear bunkers. It's everybody else on the planet that has Lex concerned, and for once he can actually appreciate the Kent point of view: protect Clark at all costs.

There is no actual reason for Lex to worry about his Super Alien Lover/ Boyfriend/ Partner/ Something or other. None whatsoever, and yet, he wishes he could believe that. Except that it's one thing to lie to someone else, something else entirely to convince himself, and Lex isn't buying any of the shit he's selling.

It's almost appalling.

Or it would be appalling if Lex could actually be appalled. Instead, it's just a niggling voice in the back of his mind, and that voice isn't nearly as loud as the one shouting that he's being domesticated. That Lex Luthor is whipped.

That's not possible. It's only been four days since their first date and seven days since Lex got The Truth. Or Eight months, three days, fifteen hours and two minutes since Lex ran over Clark Kent.

What a way to meet a boy.

Lex is not obsessed. Lex is not whipped. It's just the physicist in Lex talking, the part that likes numbers.

Besides, everything else is irrelevant because Lex doesn't do domestic; Lex does Clark. Or Lex wants to do Clark, and that train of thought is leading him to places he wants to go but doesn't think Clark has even conceived of. However, Clark standing in the doorway of his office looking so young, lissom and full of debauched promise, isn't going to help matters.

If all aliens are this hot, Lex will gladly help them take over the planet.

And if the voices in Lex's head are screaming louder about lots of other things, that's okay too. Lex doesn't suspect Clark of anything malicious. He doesn't think that Clark is trying to shrink his brain with some mind-control ray. Lex doesn't suspect Clark of being anything other than himself, and perhaps that's what's putting Lex in the most danger.

For some reason Lex is trying to convince himself that he's not expecting anything from Clark. Anything else, because Clark has given Lex his biggest secret wrapped in grass-stained Levis and hay-strewn hair, and Lex has no idea what to do now.

How to keep Clark safe without smothering him to death.

Now that Lex has it all, what's next? For once he doesn't know, and Lex hates not knowing. He detests the uncertain, the unclear, all those things that he can't explain away. Or perhaps what's bothering Lex is something a bit more basic. A bit more unexpected.

Lex has got this thing happening to him and he can't dismiss it. Lex can't wash it away or toss it out in the garbage when it's rolling him back from his desk and straddling him like a pommel horse.

Clark is happening to Lex and he's bringing with him all these emotions that Lex has no experience in dealing with. Clark has Lex hoping for more when Lex knows that 'hope' is a four-letter word.

Of course, Lex knows lots of four letter words - like desk and fuck and damn and that L-word. And then there's 'kiss.'

Kiss is a four-letter word that could wind up being Lex's favorite word of all time because it's what Clark is attempting to do right now. Of course, attempting and completing are two different tasks. And while Clark certainly is applying himself with lots of zest and fervor, this kiss is also very reminiscent of the way that Lex's mother's terrier, Dashiel, used to greet Lex first thing in the morning.

All the same, Lex doesn't think he's ever had anybody this happy to see him. It makes turning away from Clark's warm, wet and eager - very eager - mouth an extremely painful task. Bordering on arduous and Lex just doesn't want to do it, but there is work to be done. Somewhere on his desk. At least he thinks there was before Clark sat in front of him.

But Clark is Lex's work too, not his experiment as much as his work-in-progress. His long term project.

A lesson for both of them in being more human.

There's just the matter of figuring out how to be in a relationship with someone when Lex doesn't do relationships. He doesn't understand them, and the closest he's ever come was the fuck-fest competition that he engaged in with Victoria, and that's no example to use with Clark.

So while it's a shame that doesn't have a book entitled 'Understanding your Teenage Alien,' it's not a problem. Setting a precedent is what Luthors do, but Lex still wouldn't mind a little guidance on how to push Clark away without causing severe damage. Either to his desk or to his mouth.



"Clark, there's this thing, it's called a greeting. It generally involves saying 'hello' before you try to swallow someone's tonsils."

"Oh, hi, Lex." Sheepish grin, fluttering eyelashes and Lex is really only so strong. He needs a diversion. He needs pants with more room.

"Hello, Cla---." Lex has got to give Clark credit for being extremely persistent. Very persistent, like a dog with a bone, and again with the high school humor that seems extremely fitting here. Lex is going to have to turn this to his advantage very soon. As soon as he remembers why he wants Clark to stop kissing him.

"Clark, wait."

"Am I doing something wrong?"

"What? No. But, you know, hello. How was school..." And Lex really doesn't want to remind himself that his teenage alien lover is still in *high school,* only...

"I thought you got out of school at three?" And Lex didn't just expose himself with knowledge of Clark's whereabouts every hour of the day. No, certainly not. Lex is too smart for that; although, he is beginning to worry about the whereabouts of his brain, and that impervious Lex charm that is just nowhere in the vicinity.

"We get out at 2:55, but I had to drop my books at home."

"Clark, it's 3:04."

"Yeah, I know. Sorry, I'm late."

Late. Late?

"What did you do? Fly here?"

"Nope, I ran."

Lex's is relieved he's sitting down because the idea that Clark ran to the castle after school causes Lex's knees to twinge. It's either that or the Alien Grin of Sexual Doom. Anyway, Lex is far too old to be in danger of coming in his pants, and if he keeps repeating that to himself he might be okay.

"You ran here? Right after school?"

It's so sad that Lex is lagging behind this way. So sad that Clark has sucked out Lex's brain with his agile tongue. Lex will miss his mind but maybe not that much, not if Clark keeps nipping at his jaw line just. like. that.

"Yeah, is that okay? Should I have called first?" Lex can't believe this. "I just thought that because you normally don't mind when I stop by that it would be okay. I can leave if you want."

Leave. Leave?

"Absolutely not." The recaps have got to stop. Only this is so fucking insane that Lex can't stop. He has to say it or he'll never believe it. He has to keep talking or he's going to forget how. Clark may not be experienced but his enthusiasm is making up for any sort of deficiency. Of course it doesn't hurt that Lex Luthor has an Alien Lover who runs really, really fast and judging by the fit of his jeans is really well endowed.

"Oh, that's good because I kinda told my mom that I wasn't going to be home before eight."

"Does she know where you are?"

"Yes, no. Well, yeah. She knows I'm with you, but she thinks I'm using your library."

"And she believed this because the Smallville Library has burned down in the last 24 hours?"

"Because you have a better historical selection."

"And she would think that because what?"

"Because that's what I told her."

"Clark, you can't go around lying to your mother," but you can always lie to your father. Lex is certain of that one. So he's not going to dwell on how easily all this lying seems to come to Clark - it's not like he's the one who being kept in the closet anymore.

"It's not lying."

"It's just a selective version of the truth. I understand." God, does Lex understand. It's just that he thought they were past playing Truth and Evasion. All the same, Lex didn't really want to see Jonathan Kent at his front door this afternoon anyway.

"So, back to this running thing. I know you said you were fast, but Clark, you ran here. Exactly how fast are we talking about?"

"I don't know. Really fast."

Really fucking fast.

"Do you do everything fast?"

"Yeah. No. No, not everything."

And Lex has to admit he's impressed, he thought that entendre was going to fly right over Clark. Just like every other not-so-subtle remark and allusion he's ever made in Clark's presence. Of course, it's not like being subtle actually got him Clark in the first place.

"So, there's the speed and the see-through vision and the strength, am I missing anything?"

"Well, there's the floating."


"I'm sorry, Clark, did you say floating?"

A blush. "Yeah, but it only happens while I'm sleeping. Well, so far at any rate."


And Lex knows he's staring. Knows his eyes are this close to falling out his head, but 'floating?'

"Okay, so floating. Not levitating, not flying, but floating."


"And this happens while you sleep?"

"Yeah, but when I wake up, I crash."

Lex has done a lot of crashing when he wakes up, but all of that was metaphorical.

"So, you float when you sleep, and what causes this? Your dreams? Your metabolism?" If Clark even has a metabolism. How does Clark digest food anyway? Does he even have a digestive tract or a nervous system? What about his sex drive? God, Lex is going mental with questions.

"Is there some particular food or something that does this to you? Brussel sprouts? Chocolate cake? Oreos?" The scientist in Lex can't help himself.

"I - I think it's dream related."

Dream related, so much for the food theory. "What kind of dreams, Clark?"

"Just dreams."


"Lex, I don't think that I should - you're going to freak out."

"Only if you say your dreams are about Pete. Or Teletubbies." Or Lana. God, please don't let them be about Lana. Lex would rather Clark dream about Tinky Winky than Lana Lang.

Clark can lie if he has to.

"They're about - they're about you. About you and me." And my god, Lex didn't think anybody could get that red. Must be an alien thing. And, Jesus, does he want to ask Clark questions. All kinds of questions, but Clark is shifting his hips and that's a diversionary tactic. It's working.


"So, you dream about me, us. What exactly are we doing in your dreams? Fishing?" Fucking? Ruling the world? The possibilities are endless.

Mumblemumble "naked" mumble.

Lex's luck can't be this good, but Clark has got his hands on Lex's body so maybe...

"I'm sorry, what did you say, Clark?"

"I didn't say anything at all," and sometimes Lex really *can't* tell when Clark is lying.

"I'm sure you didn't," and Lex is not done with that line of questioning. Not by a long shot. "So, what's new in the land of Super Boy?"

"Don't call me that." And it could just be Lex's imagination but Clark seems to be dimming a bit. He doesn't seem as radiant as a few seconds ago. In fact he seems to be moving away.

"What, is this the 'I'm a man not a boy,' speech coming? That's fine with me and at least one Kansas statute then. How about 'Super Clark?'"

"I'm not a super anything," and there's no mistaking that tone. Somewhere in Lex's brain a voice is shrieking 'Don't Fuck with the Alien!'

"Clark, I was just making a joke, I didn't mean anything by it." Except for, well, Clark Kent, Super Alien Teen.

"But it's not funny, Lex. That's what Chloe called Eric and look what happened to him."

"Eric? Eric who?"

"This kid at school who kinda ended up with my powers."


"I know what I think you just said, but I doubt very much that's what you actually said. You wouldn't mind repeating yourself, would you?" Lex actually doesn't wait for a reply before adding, "good, of course not."

Lex doesn't actually do anything, except withdraw that fraction of an inch from Clark's grasp to let him know he's serious. To let him know that he's nominally concerned and it's still a shock when Clark hesitantly offers up the truth.

"There was this freak accident, and I got hit by lightening."

"Jesus, Clark!" If Lex weren't already sitting down, he would certainly have to right now.

"But, I'm okay, only Eric ended up with my abilities and they didn't work out so well for him." Work out so well. That's a euphemism, like saying Lex just has a few dollars.

"What happened to Eric, Clark?" Jesus, is Clark shaking?

"He - he kind of went nuts and ended up attacking people."

People. People? Fuck.

"He's the one who threw you into that car at school, isn't he?" Lex is going to fucking kill this kid.

"Yeah, but it's not his fault. It's not easy, being like this. Like me. And Lex, he's in the Metropolis Psychiatric Home now, it's not it's something he ever asked for."

Like Lex really cares. He hurt Clark, that's reason enough for Lex to lash out.

"You didn't ask for it either, Clark, but I don't see you throwing people into cars."

And Lex was so certain of that statement, but the removal of Clark's hands and the downward glances are telling him that maybe he's wrong.

Lex hates being wrong.

"Fine. If you're okay, I'll deal, " but Lex can't help touching Clark, because Clark may look fine, but looks are like clothes and they hide everything.

"Lex, you're not going to do anything are you?"

"Anything like what?"

Anything like removing Eric's fingernails with tweezers. Anything like hanging Eric upside by his scrotum and flogging him to within a millimeter of his sniveling hide.

No, of course not.

"Playing innocent doesn't suit you, Lex."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Look, it's over and done with, you don't have to worry about me."

Not worry about his alien. Yeah, sure. Not ever going to happen.


"No, Lex, I'm being serious here."

"So am I. I don't like what happened." Understatement of the Week complete with a blue ribbon from the dollar store. "Why didn't you tell me when it happened?"

Wry grin that Lex didn't think Clark knew how to use and, "I know you're not really asking me that."

"Good point." Only it's not and it's not over, either, but Lex can let it go. For now.



"I don't think you came here to talk about Eric, or your illicit dreams, or my collection of Nabokov. So why are you here, apart from a desire to maul me?"

"I wasn't mauling you, was I?"

"You can maul me as much as you like, Clark, but in the meantime, what can I do for you?"

"I wanted to ask you a favor."

"Oh, god, not another favor. Not for the Gay Alien Farmboy who saved my life with his fiendish alien ways and debauched ideas of friendship."

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"What do you think? Ask away, Clark."


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