So this is an alternate backstory to "There is no once, and once only". Crater Lake Brewery rears its ugly head here and Clark manages to get drunk. I'd never heard of the concept of Virgin!Lex before so I misinterpreted that to mean that Lex just never had experience with men because he thinks that's just not his thing. And that with Clark, he's not completely aware of his own desires. He sublimates them. And well, yeah.
This ends abruptly where I threw up my hands. I might take this up again because there are parts that I do like and I have mapped this out to the end in my head. But I don't know.
This part R/Adultish, S3, pre-"Shattered".
Having just poured his second scotch of the evening, Lex heard what could only be construed as shuffling and dragging noises coming down the hallway. Another member of Smallville's enraged citizenry must have overpowered his rather pathetic security team again and be on his way to do harm to his person. After a long day of meetings and negotiations in Metropolis, Lex didn't much feel like subjecting himself to the inevitable soliliquy regarding the Luthor taint on all things good and holy, nor did he particularly enjoy the scuffle and head injury to follow.
The good people of Smallville should really find something else with which to entertain themselves on a Friday night. Cow tipping, perhaps, or possibly knocking over mailboxes with a baseball bat.
He sighed, set down his drink and retrieved his gun that he kept for such purposes. Aiming at the doors as they opened, he only lowered the pistol when he caught sight of Clark, his red winter jacket splayed across his straining shoulders, backing into the room.
"I do believe we have a doorbell, Clark. You are allowed to use it," he said.
Clark turned with a grin, revealing the fresh corpse. Of a tree. Evergreen, to be precise. "I've got more stuff out there," he said.
He disappeared and Lex followed. The destruction painfully evident as he peered around the doorway. "There are pine needles in my hallway."
Retrieving several boxes, piling one on top of the other and hoisting them, Clark rolled his eyes. "I'll vacuum those up later, Lex. Give me a break. It's Christmas."
Lex stepped back, allowing Clark inside. The boy managed to get his long legs over the Douglas fir or Scotch pine, Lex didn't really know the difference, without dropping his precarious tower of cardboard boxes.
"Christmas isn't for another two weeks, Clark."
Putting down his burden in the middle of the room, Clark smiled and said, "It's the whole fortnight thing, Lex. You know, the twelve days of Christmas. It's not a day, it's an event. Partridges in pear trees and chestnuts roasting on an open fire." And he started to hum, opening up the top box. "Come on, Lex, you know the words. Feel free to join in at any time."
Lex just stood there, gun still in hand but pointed down, threatening only his foot. "No, Clark, I really don't," he whispered.
"Don't what, Lex? My singing's not that great, and I know I can't carry a tune to save my life..."
"Know the words, Clark. I don't know the words," he said as he put the gun away and retrieved his drink from the liquor stand.
Clark discontinued his rummaging and just looked at him. "Your Christmases must have really sucked, Lex. I'm sorry."
Lex let out a small laugh and took a drink. "Carols weren't exactly tradition in our house."
Picking up what looked like an enormous red and green metal spider, Clark retrieved the tree from the doorway, leaving more pine needles strewn upon the floor. "You told me about the whole no tree thing last year." He paused in the corner. "Um, Lex, a little help here?"
He put down his drink and joined Clark in the corner. "Did I? I don't remember."
"You were pretty drunk," he said. "Yeah, just lift over there. Up a little higher. Thanks."
And lo and behold, an upright Christmas tree. But naked and rather forlorn.
Clark went back over to the boxes. "I've got lights, ornaments and..." He provided his own drumroll. "...tinsel!"
Oh dear lord, that was the most garish sight Lex had ever seen. "You're not putting that on my tree, Clark. I have weapons."
"Your tree? Who did a Paul Bunyan and dragged this in here?"
"You chopped this down yourself?" Lex could just picture a determined Clark marching into the woods, ax in hand.
Clark smiled, looked down and back again. "Okay, so I Paul Bunyaned myself down to the tree lot on First, but that's my allowance sitting over there so tinsel it is, my friend."
Friend. A word that Clark used less and less regarding him. Yes, that word joined the scotch in a pleasant burn down Lex's throat. "Clark, you didn't need to spend..."
"Yes, I did, Lex. And tinsel is the price you have to pay to give me the warm fuzzies about this."
Lex could only nod in defeat.
Less than an hour later, the tree sparkled with lights, ornaments and a generous amount of tinsel. In the muted firelight, since Clark had insisted that they turn out the lights to get the full effect, he had to admit to himself that he could live with the plebian addition.
"It's beautiful, Clark. Thank you."
Clark went over to the doorway. "Come on, check it out from over here."
Lex joined him to admire the tree and thought nothing of the fraternal arm that wrapped around his shoulder.
"Hey, Lex," Clark whispered, close to his ear. "Look up."
Above them, hanging from the lintel, a delightful little sprig...
"Gotcha," Clark whispered as he leaned down and brushed his lips.
After a startled second, Lex pulled away and murmured something about needing his drink. He found himself back at the coffee table, hand shaking.
"It's just mistletoe, Lex." Clark said, apologetic and dismayed. "Don't get weird."
Lex took a long swallow. "We're friends, Clark. We don't do that."
Clark leaned into the doorframe and sighed. "It's not like I slipped you any tongue, Lex. You know, it's Christmas, it's tradition." He put his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor. "You're this sophisticated Metropolis guy. I thought you'd be cool with it. Laugh, maybe." He took a few tentative steps forward. "I wasn't coming on to you, honest, and I didn't mean to freak you out. I'm sorry."
Lex faced him. "I like women, Clark," he said flatly.
Clark put his palms out, beseeching. "News flash, so do I. You just give off this metrosexual vibe and I thought..."
"Clark, do you even know what that word means?"
"Yeah, Lex, I have access to this amazing thing called the internet."
Clark laughed and his eyes sparkled and Lex felt a surge of...it had to be anger. He didn't know what else to call it.
"I won't be part of your adolescent experimentation. And if you take our friendship so lightly, I think you'd better leave."
Hurt radiated from Clark's face which, somehow, stood only a few feet from his own. "You're my best friend, Lex. It was just a bad joke."
"Completely tasteless," Lex agreed.
"Like my tinsel?" Clark added, hopeful, so obviously in need of forgiveness.
"Now that was funny." Lex relented and smiled. He thought for a second. "Have a drink with me, Clark. I believe that's tradition too."
Clark blinked. "That's experimentation I don't indulge in, Lex. Besides, I have to drive."
"Then call your parents and stay," he said.
Clark rubbed his hand over his face. "Okay, you're confusing me here. Just a minute ago, you wanted to throw my butt out because you thought I wanted to get all tongue-thrusty with you. Are you asking me to spend the night?"
"Consider this my apology. I have beer. You can have as much as you like." He walked over to the wine refrigerator by the bookcase, pulled out a beer bottle and opened it. "Please, Clark. It's a new label. Crater Lake Brewery down the road. I try to support local business."
Clark took it, looked briefly at the label, shrugged and downed a large swallow. "One of these days, I'm going to have to take a course in Lex Logic."
Lex swirled his glass, sudden relief flooding him. "That would be university level, I believe. Besides, I'm behind in my corruption of minors quota for the month."
Clark took another swallow from the longnecked bottle, laughed, and placed an amiable arm around Lex, friction apparently forgotten. "You know, I think it'll take me a lifetime to figure you out. I'll call my folks and we'll shoot some pool and other guy stuff." Clark gave Lex's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Weirdo."
"Freak," Lex replied as Clark headed toward the phone and Lex racked up.
"I missed that shot! How could I mess up that up? It was a perfect set-up!" Clark, beer in hand, looked quizzically at the table.
Lex laughed. "You're on your fourth beer, Clark. It's perfectly understandable."
Clark frowned for a second, looked down at the bottle. "I don't get drunk," he said. "It must be something else."
"Blame it on the lights then," Lex said waving his fourth scotch towards the twinkling Christmas tree.
Clark closed his eyes briefly. "Yeah," he agreed. "Lex, I need to sit down." And abandoning his cue, he wandered over to the couch.
Lex joined him, leaning back against the leather. "I think this is where we segue to the television portion of our evening."
Clark only nodded, picked up the remote, clicked through the satellite stations. His eyes widened. "Lex, you've got like seventeen channels of porn here."
He twisted just slightly to get a better look at Clark, at how the firelight danced across his cheekbones and slid down his neck. "I subscribe to the full package. There are sports stations and movies as well." He paused, watched the languid movement of Clark's fingers on the remote. "Clark," he said, leaning in slightly, "you're welcome to choose anything you want."
Clark smiled, looked at him sidelong. "Anything? Even 'Kinky Kong'?"
"That one's horrible," Lex said with a grimace. "Let me save you that pain."
"So you've seen it?" Clark said, taking a slow swig from his beer.
"I don't get out as much as I'd like, Clark, and there's a whole industry tailored towards my needs." He looked into those eyes, so young.
Clark handed him the remote, fingers slightly meeting in the exchange. "Well, since you're the connoisseur, why don't you pick?"
"Hardcore or soft?" Lex asked as he scrolled through the choices of those seventeen channels.
"Definitely hard," Clark said as he settled back into the couch, legs splayed, bottle resting on his thigh.
"Why Mr. Kent, I do believe I'm earning points for next month's corruption quota." Lex laughed, aimed at "Shanna's Playground" and clicked 'accept'.
"Another beer?" Lex asked as Clark idly twirled his empty bottle while watching guy on girl on guy action on the screen.
Between the soundtrack of moans and copyright-free jazz, Clark blinked and replied, "No. No, I'm good. Maybe later."
Lex watched as the actor getting blown flipped Shanna's blonde hair away for a better view for the camera. "You're pretty buzzed right now, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I think so. It's kind of weird," he said between the 'oh yeahs' and ball-smacks emanating from the television.
Lex turned, leaned his elbow on the back of the couch, taking in the sight of Clark flushed from firelight, beer and porn, mouth slightly open. "It's fine. Just enjoy it. I'll pace you." He paused, taking a lingering sip from his almost empty glass. He was on the drunk side of buzzed himself. "Clark, have you ever been with a woman?"
Clark, not turning, only lowered his lashes and said, "Yeah."
Lex took a slow swallow, felt the electric tingle of interest descend his spine. "When?"
"That summer in Metropolis," he said. "When you were gone. I was...high...most of the time, did a lot of stuff." And he sounded pained, curled slightly into himself, bottle sliding down to the floor. "I didn't really care."
"Hmm," Lex said and nothing else. So while he ate bugs and tore his skin away from muscle and bone, Clark decided to float away on decadence and drugs in Metropolis. He'd imagined, hoped, that Clark had had a harder time of it, huddled in a doorway or couch surfing with the Met U crowd. Someone higher up the food chain must have taken him in, provided for him. Some castoff of his, perhaps, had fucked Clark into the sheets just to piss on Lex's grave. Hardly poetic and certainly not justice. "We've never really talked about what you did that summer, Clark," he finally said.
Clark answered as if from far away, the fake concert of orgasm louder than his reply. "Let's not. I'm not proud of what I did."
"Some people would say that having casual sex with a woman is nothing to be ashamed of, Clark, that it's just part of growing up." Lex felt this sudden urge to reach out, rest his hand on Clark's shoulder.
Clark looked away from the screen, away from him. "Women, Lex. Plural."
And the sudden image of Clark, well-muscled beyond his years, pounding into one woman while kissing another did something for Lex that watching Shanna and her playmates for twenty minutes couldn't. He was instantly filled with want and the need for woman, something to sink into.
Drunk, he must be drunk to give voice to this. "I've always wanted to see you with a woman." For yes, when he had tired of starring in his own fantasies, late at night and bone-drenched and sleep just an orgasm away, Clark had stepped in. Clark fucked and licked, and the filthy things that poured out of his mouth as he squeezed a breast, flicked a nipple...Lex could lie back, watch, silently direct -- the orgasm that followed, sweet and long.
Clark slowly rolled his head against the back of the couch towards Lex , the corners of his mouth turning up. "You've thought of me and some girl when you're...God, Lex, that's kind of gay."
"Hardly," Lex said as his hand shifted up Clark's neck to stroke his hair. "It just means that I'm a voyeur."
"Hence the seventeen channels of porn," said Clark, smiling further while leaning into that hand.
"Hence," Lex agreed as he smiled back.
They just sat there for a while, Lex's hand in Clark's hair, so soft, as the movie credits rolled in the background, the tree lights blinking.
"Come on," Lex said. "Let's go."
"Where?" Clark said, breath and whisper, a slight tremble.
"Out," Lex said. "Get your coat."
"I shouldn't have let you drive," Clark said from the passenger seat as they pulled into a parking lot in an uncharacteric sedan.
"Well, Clark, I'm less wasted than you are. Plus I've had years of practice."
Clark, realizing where they were as he stumbled out of the car, said, "Lex, Jesus, this is the Wild Coyote. My dad might be here! What are you doing?"
"I don't see his truck, Clark. It's perfectly safe." Lex, hands in his coat pockets, headed for the front door.
Clark caught up with him, spun him around. "I can't go in there!"
Lex just smiled, "We won't be long. Trust me, it'll be worth it." And he turned and opened the door.
Clark followed, muttering, "Oh my god, this is crazy."
They stood by the doorway, Clark doing his best to hide behind Lex. "Clark, stop being obvious, try to act like you belong." Lex scanned the room, eyes adjusting and seeking. "Alright, I see three, maybe four possibilities here."
"Can I just go back to the car, Lex? Please?" Clark nearly bumped into a table and mumbled, "Sorry, Mr. Peterson."
"S'alright, Clark," Mr. Peterson said. "Get you a drink? Won't card me, tell you that." And he laughed. "Boys out for a little fun?"
Lex felt a tug on his sleeve and turned to find Clark practically hyperventilating. "Lex, please!"
"I'll handle this, Clark. Calm down."
"Thank you, Mr. Peterson, but I promised Clark here just one drink. Wouldn't want to get him into too much trouble, now would we?" He leaned down with a sly wink. "Why don't you let me get you and your friends a round while we're up at the bar? As a gesture of my appreciation for your dedication to the plant. All of you have made this a marvellous quarter."
"Much obliged, Mr. Luthor," Mr. Peterson said, raising his bottle. "That year-end bonus sure came in handy too," he said and turned back to his friends. "Hear, hear!" they replied in chorus.
"Well, then carry on gentlemen. Don't let us interrupt you." Lex then guided Clark gently to the bar. Lex took out his wallet. "When you get a chance, drinks all around for the gentlemen by the door," he said to the bartender. "Back to business, Clark. As I said, I see three or four possibilities here. Which one do you want?"
"Which what?" Clark said as he hid his head in his hands.
"Stand up straight," Lex hissed. "They have to see what they're getting."
"God, Lex, what are you talking about?" Clark did manage to adjust himself to his full height however.
"We have two blondes, one brunette and one redhead. If it were just me, I'd go for that one over there," he said pointing at the tall, lithe woman further down the bar. "But this is about you and what you want. Your call."
Clark looked at him, incredulous, eyes wide. "We're here to pick up women?"
Lex grinned. "Woman, Clark. Singular."
"You mean you and me and...Lex, that's just messed up." Clark's eyes darted towards the exit.
Lex looked at him, eyes narrowing. "Clark, is your buzz wearing off?"
He turned those deer in headlights eyes towards him. "Yeah, isn't it supposed to?"
Lex shook his head. "I told you I'd pace you." He motioned for the bartender. "Two Crater Lake beers, please. Thank you." He handed one to Clark, raised his, and said, "When in Rome..."
Clark shifted back against the bar, facing the room and drank for a while in silence. Soon a smile threatened. "This is still messed up. And Lex, none of these women will go for it so you're just wasting your time. She's kind of cute though." And he gestured his bottle toward the blonde at the end of the bar.
Lex studied her. Natural blonde, medium height, a little bit of cleavage, five pounds short of thick, lots of teeth. He sighed. "Not quite my type, Clark. I must really like you."
Clark laughed, "She'll shoot you down, so don't worry about it." He paused. "Um, what am I supposed to do?"
Lex patted him on the arm. "Just stand there and look pretty. I'll go over there and do the talking."
Clark did a double-take. A little bit of beer dribbled down his chin, and he hurriedly wiped it away with the back of his sleeve. "Lex, um..."
Lex swallowed back a laugh. "Yes, Clark, you're pretty. That's the appropriate word. Women think you're pretty. Your looks have been the talk of the town for years. I'm almost sick of hearing about the pretty Kent boy." He stopped himself before he finished with 'Too pretty for his own damn good, no wonder Luthor's chasing him around town'. He leaned in slightly. "Part of your charm is that you never hear it. Didn't they tell you this in Metropolis?"
Clark shifted, leaning in too, voice low. "They said a lot of things. But, you know..."
"High. Yes, I gathered, Clark. That doesn't make it any less true."