Title: This Lie
Rating: Adult R/NC-17
Length: 888 words
Spoilers: future fic, no real spoilers
Disclaimer: Not mine, seriously. All belongs to Al & Miles, WB/CW and DC Comics.
A/N: Originally intended for oxoniensis's porn battle. But I'm too late. And this isn't very porny. Prompt: Lex/Clark, trap.
Summary: Some lies are a promise as well as a trap.
"When you said interview, I thought you meant your office, Lex."
Lex looked at Clark standing, hesitant, in the doorway of Angelino's back room. He waved Clark over to his lone private table. "This is as an appropriate place as any, Clark."
He walked over to the chair, unconscious grace. Clark looked anything but the annoying buffoon that he affected of late, the smokescreen to fool them all. At least he had shown Lex that bit of respect this evening.
His eyes narrowed as he regarded the suit, black Armani, expensive. "So he's dressing you now," Lex said, more curt than he intended. The claws of Bruce Wayne evident even in the tasteful tie about Clark's neck, the leash Lex had every intention of undoing.
After all, he had seen him first. Let Bruce take his territorial piss somewhere else, somewhere outside of Metropolis.
Clark raised an eyebrow and then sighed as he sat opposite. "This isn't an interview, is it, Lex."
"I'd like to call it dinner," Lex said, one sly turn, reaching for his wine.
The waiter cleared the plates, brought coffee and a snifter of armagnac for Lex. The conversation had been surprisingly pleasant even with the skirting of certain topics. Clark's eyes had turned wistful as he ran his fingers on the stem of his wine glass.
"We haven't really talked in a while," Clark said. "I just wish sometimes..."
"That things could have turned out different." He glanced up, face naked and beautiful. The charade of glasses shed by Lex's request during the appetizers.
There had been a time when Lex had focused on lies and trust, truly hating Clark for giving one and withholding the other. But that hate had turned needle thin and fragile. He would take Clark's regret to match his own. Although not equal, surely, this could be enough.
"They still can," Lex said, voice low and rough with the need he no longer bothered to hide, that even the deadliest of enmities could not destroy. He rose and crossed that small distance, defying Zeno's paradox and the complicated demarcations they had lived with for too long.
Clark said nothing, gave only a small nod of acquiescence, as Lex descended. The lips masculine but soft as any woman's when they met Lex's own.
Lex straddled him, ties undone and cast to the floor. Clark's neck exposed as Lex drew his mouth across it. The power in those hands that stroked his back, controlled and gentle. A small forgiveness, but no less welcome.
"When's the last time anyone touched you, Clark?" Lex said, mouth a whisper by Clark's ear.
"It's...it's been a while," Clark admitted, eyes half-lidded, breathy.
Except for the brief engagement to Lori Lemaris during Clark's university days, Lex knew this to be true. Lois had remained blissfully blind to Clark's infatuation. Bruce's seductions, when he actually intended any sort of relationship, took years and that net hadn't yet closed. Clark remained lonely and vulnerable and Lex meant to take every advantage.
"Lex...Lex, we can't," Clark said, turning away. The chair creaked, unmeant for the weight of years that now lay upon it.
"Just this night, Clark," Lex said, cupping Clark's chin and turning those amazing eyes back towards him. "Just this night." He kissed him long and deep, Clark swallowing down that dishonesty.
This lie, at least, had promise and hope behind it.
Lex lay back across that soft Smallville quilt as Clark's hands shook, undoing the shirt. Only the one lamp on in Clark's living room, the city lights illuminating Clark's bedroom through the blinds. Slanted, yet enough to reveal the golden skin of Clark's now bare chest.
Lex reached up, nails scraping a rosy nipple. Clark hissed, chest already flushed with desire.
"Lex, this can't mean anything," Clark said, regret, unwilling to veer that far from where fate had flung them.
"Just tonight, Clark," Lex said. A lure, a lie, a trap. Once done, they could do nothing but repeat this swerving. Once, a bridge, a startling line of destination, had broken but they had not. This would not break them either.
Clothes undone, Clark moved on top of him, arms braced to the sides. Each brush of their cocks brought a hiss of breath from both of them.
Lex licked his palm slowly, brought them both in hand.
"Look at me, Clark," he said. And he did. Hips pumping, but eyes locked. They found a rhythm that, by all rights, shouldn't have felt so familiar.
Lex reached up, brushing a hand through Clark's hair, across his cheek. He arched, much too soon.
"Oh God, Lex, I..." And Clark thrummed and stilled, collapsed.
Lex kissed him, unheedful of the mess, his hand still in Clark's hair. "I should get going," he said, one last kiss before attempting to extricate himself.
Clark shook his head, kissed him light and quick. "You can stay, Lex. You know, just for tonight."
"Tonight," Lex said, settling. Clark reached for a towel to clean them. Lex submitted to this. There would be time for showers in the morning. And time for other things. Clark would make him breakfast. And then they would both call in sick to work.
"Tonight," Lex repeated. And it was the most beautiful lie that had ever rolled off his tongue.