Fracture	Fracture

 by Lyra Sena

 

 

  

 A/N: Written for the SV Flash Fic Challenge. Plot bunny from
thdancingferret: Clark and Lex at a techno rave. 

 Thanks: To Nifra for the fantastic beta, as always.  

 These are long days - punctuated by a dripping, clinging heat - and they
stretch seamlessly into nights that pass in muted waves of color and
lights and sounds. Here in the city, he is alone, and free, with no one to
answer to - no one to question him or force him to believe things he knows
aren't true. Because he isn't needed, and there never was a place for him
- never will be - to belong. He's tasted liberation and he'll never go
back home. 

 Clark knows power. He's cocooned, enveloped in its stark, sharp tendrils
every moment. 

 The quiet edge of loneliness is forgotten along with everything else, as
the wind scratches into his hair and the ruby ring on his finger snaps
bright teeth against streetlights. He swings the motorcycle in front of
the club, screaming to a halt and his swagger reflects a bravado that
heightens with each step. 

 He steps through the doors, owns the place. 

 Pushes through tight bodies that press at him on all sides, sprawls into
a corner booth and just...surveys. Licks his lips and knows his eyes give
away every bit of the predatory desire coursing in him. People are sliding
together, nameless faces meeting for brief moments in lust-filled
movements. 

 So many to choose from, and he can have any, can have all. Can do
whatever he wants and no one to tell him it's wrong or that he needs to
stop, or that it's just not him, because...it is. Now. 

 Lets his gaze skitter restlessly, and he knows he's searching for
something or someone but his control doesn't waver when he finds two pale
eyes sliding up to meet his. Strides across the room, tugs fingers into
his hand and pulls, careless of stumbling feet and murmured protests. 

 There is no room for two of them, not where heaviness falls like a cloak
amidst muffled groans. Stumbling blind through black fogs of bodies,
writhing and twisting, Clark flings out wildly, parts the crowd easily,
exploding out a partially hidden door that spills into the alleyway. 

 Shoves Lex against the brick wall and roughly clenches Lex's chin with
unkind fingers, tilts his face outlined in midnight, searching it in the
dull fade left by a half moon. 

 "Is this what you want?" and why Clark asks is neither consequential nor
important. 

 Lex's eyes turn obsidian, glaring, daggers thrown between their faces.
With an irreverent toss of his head, Clark crushes his lips against the
soft mouth, charts the curved ridges of flesh with his tongue. Grabs Lex
by the shoulders and shoves him down to his knees, and Clark curls his
hand around the soft scalp. 

 "You came to find me?" Clark bites out, roughly jerking the zipper down
on his jeans. 

 And eyes like waves of onyx pooled, turn upward. Hands seek his in a
stilling movement. Lex slides up, his back pressed to the wall, holding
Clark's gaze as though he might lose himself if he looks away. Face to
face, nothing between them except heavy nightfall and untold stories -
words that will never be spoken. 

 "Yes," Lex says, simply, with more emotion pushing the word from between
his lips than Clark knew existed, and like some kind of crash into a
bottomless whirl of consciousness, the weight of feeling threatens to drag
him under, tempting, whispering love and forgiveness -all the things he
wants to forget. 

 "Suck me," Clark demands, voice grey, shadowed, numb. 

 Lex curls seeking fingers against Clark's cheek in a caress that sparks
through his memory, and Clark closes his eyes. Brief glimpses of slow
touches over his skin and the taste of juniper in his mouth crowd his
thoughts and he tries to disentangle remembrances of other nights, shaded
in lines of twilight. 

 Other nights, before this clutch of disaster that follows now like a
scythe, cutting, powerful like spiraling suns and planets wrapped in
steel. 

 Back into those long lines of twilight, back past the cutting curve, back
to when he was far away from home, or so it feels even now...  

 Too many people on the streets, the sun luminously bouncing off sidewalk
puddles, and tall buildings stretch into a hazy sky. 

 It isn't the way it all began that still amazes him, or how weightlessly
their lives entwine and overlap. It's the slide of Lex's pale fingers
against his, and the rush through his lungs when Lex leans back in the
leather chair, hand raised in mid-air while he talks into the phone, feet
propped on his desk. How leaning against the counter, Lex turns and gives
him a half-grin and Clark is immobile and just...stares. 

 They pull up outside the club and Lex gracefully unfolds himself out of
the car and, walking around to open Clark's door, smiles at Clark's dazed
expression. A neon sign blinks, hot pink and orange colliding artlessly in
irregular strokes. His eyes rake along the crowd of people pressed along
the line of the building, and a restless impatience stirs. 

 "Come on," Lex whispers, and Clark nods stupidly, blindly stumbling from
the car, following. A small nod to the man at the door, and they're
inside. There's a moment of confusion, with streaking trails of garbled
conversation and a pulsing crash of lights and the steady thumping glide
of music burning into him. Clark keeps close to Lex, trails hands down
soft leather, over his back, and laces the slender fingers he finds with
his own. 

 Lex leans up, breathing lightly against his ear. A long shiver trails up
his spine, intensifying when Lex's hand comes to rest on the small of his
back. 

 "What do you think, Clark?*" Lex drawls. 

 A circling pulse of blinding white glints off in sparks, illuminating
Lex's eyes, diffusing pale slate. Clark turns his head, ducking slightly
to press his mouth along the curve of Lex's neck. 

 "Perfect," he mumbles into the smooth skin. 

 And it is, to Clark, when Lex is pressed full length along his body,
their hips grinding together and Lex's hands marking territory down his
back, cupping his ass. Lex painting his body with touches that make no
room for questions, or doubt, that Clark belongs to Lex. 

 Here, so close, he feels the strong pulse of Lex's heart, and when Lex
smiles, Clark sees white teeth shining, azure eyes outlined in crinkles of
something... indefinable. Lex tilts his head toward the back of the club,
and Clark simply folds Lex's hand in his and starts walking. 

 The path's obscure and it passes too slowly before they're breathing in
the night air, fumbling with buttons and zippers and clothes are being
ripped but neither cares. Hands can't find heated skin fast enough, and
suddenly the moment blurs at alarming speeds. Clark pants, moaning Lex's
name into his collarbone, sucking and licking and tasting. 

 Lex is on his knees before Clark can draw in a shaky breath, looking up
at him with slivers of eyes hidden by heavy lids, pushing Clark back
against the wall. The moon shines down, luminous, shades the tiny alley
with lines of longing, of desire, and then Lex's lips are around him, hot
tongue and heavy breath making Clark shake and groan. 

 Explosions can be controlled and timed, or they can startle and ignite
quickly and leave in their path scorched earth, dry and brittle reminders
of grass and leaves and gaping holes in memory that sight and sound can't
fill. When Lex is on his knees in front of Clark, mouth stretched and eyes
pouring into Clark's, release is sudden, quick. His eyes snap shut and
colors break open, spill like rushing water crashing over rocks and
rupturing serene calm. 

 Clark laughs low, his breath coming in short puffs, and the pounding of
his heart is muffled only slightly by the thudding music escaping the club
behind them. Lex is reaching out, fixing, straightening, arranging them
back to proper order and presentability, and Clark wants for just once to
shock the hell out of Lex. He looks at Lex through a fall of dark lashes
and says, "Let's go home." He playfully wrestles away from Lex's wandering
hands and stumbles a bit before slowly walking backward, wicked grin
gleaming and challenging Lex, and...runs. 

 Clark stands by the car in a wash of artificial yellow light when Lex
rounds the corner of the building. He winks and leans against the door,
hip jutted out and just smiles. *Shadows dance in Lex's eyes, a twinkling
reserved only for Clark, and Clark knows this: underneath layers of
roughened reserve there are parts of Lex that shine.* 

 "Best blowjob of your life, huh?" Lex teases casually, tossing him the
keys. 

 Clark merely smiles and opens the door for him, leaning to brush a soft
kiss across Lex's lips as he gets in the car. 

 "Don't look so smug," Clark retorts, and the smooth copper lines of the
streetlight that fall in streaks across Lex's face remind him of the lake,
in summer. He would lie on his back and watch the setting sun through the
trees, the leaves spinning and turning the path of the rays to shine and
wrap around him, and when Lex's eyes slip slowly over his, it all feels
the same. Like Lex's gaze can warm him, because Lex is the brilliance, is
light, and all of it swirls in Clark's mind. 

 So closely that he fears one day the radiance might explode - like an
improper chemical reaction, coiling and building, until nothing can
contain it. 

 Lex clutches his feelings close, but even under the immensity of his
restraint, colors spill through, vibrant and intense. Each moment they're
together it's like violet buffering waves meeting the lowering sun,
stretching endlessly around them, encircling them, and Clark knows this is
life.  

 The fingers are still soft stroking his cheek, and his head snaps back,
hitting the wall behind him. Bricks crack, the sound spreads into air. He
came to escape, to rid himself of his past life, forget the lies and the
hiding and all the hurt he's caused and never wants to think about. And he
hasn't, but now... 

 It's here. Staring him in the eye, chafing against the stockade of
denial, stirring the edge of something bitter and sore that cuts into him,
engraving him with a rounded, gentle intensity. Clark can feel the past
crawling into his skin. 

 "Clark..." but Lex chokes, brushing fingers down across Clark's face, his
neck. And Lex collapses onto his knees, leans forward and warmth surrounds
Clark - it opens, takes him in a breadth of understanding, as if Lex
thinks this is what Clark needs. His knees buckle, and the heavens are
falling toward him in spires of black smoke. 

 It's everything he doesn't want, everything he never wants to remember,
everything that means nothing. 

 Everything that used to be all he wanted. 

 It's suffocating and he wants to get away from Lex, from the tenderness
that has no place with them out here. He wants something raw and harsh
and...nothing like the look on Lex's face. 

 And it's subtle, even barely visible in night's murky breath, but the
cocoon that cradles his shoulders cracks, releasing boundaries and walls
and all the truths that he just can't face like boulders. As they tumble
down he shoves Lex away and stumbles back. His body reels, following the
wind on an isolated path. 

 He disappears into the night and doesn't look back.	
 If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Lyra Sena

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