Sometimes it just doesn't work, sometimes that's actually for the better, sometimes sex is just *funny*. And sometimes...you just gotta eat a sandwich.
This is just an excerpt, don't know if I'll ever finish this one, but I thought I'd share.
Clark/Lex, late S5. I test drive Clark for this one--Clark POV, omg! Is it angsty? Is it funny? Who knows! I smoosh'em together for a taste sensation that may utterly fail. *g*
Clark stormed into Lex's office, strident, demanding. He just...God, it was too much. “Lex, I want you to back off from Lana. I'm not kidding.”
Lex looked up from his computer. “Or you'll what, Clark? I don't know if you've noticed, but Lana's her own person and quite capable of making her own choices.” Lex leaned back, steepled his fingers and smiled. “Don't I even merit the pretense of a simple hello anymore?”
Clark couldn't muster up the pretense, not now, and merely sunk into the couch. Even the leather didn't give in to him here like it used to.
Lex rose and brushed past him on his way to the liquor stand, poured himself a scotch. He stared out through the fragmented window, took a slow, almost meditative sip. “You've had your splendor in the grass, Clark. And I did everything possible to see to that.” Lex turned slightly, glanced sidelong at him. “You fucked this one up all on your own.”
Clark flinched, closed his eyes briefly to keep the heat vision from searing into Lex. He had no idea what it was like to watch Lana die, the choices, the sacrifices he had to make to see that didn't happen. He had no fucking idea. “What makes you think you'll be any better?”
Lex came over, sat down beside him, patted Clark on the knee. “For one thing, I don't hide anything from her. How can you love someone you don't trust, Clark?” He turned, faced him, took another sip, his gaze never leaving Clark's face. “That one...that one's always been a mystery to me.”
“Lex, all you've ever done is play games. Wasn't your first board game called 'Treachery' or something?”
Lex's eyes hardened, his mouth set. “I've played fair with you for a long time Clark, indulged your adolescent whims and temperament, and never asked anything beyond simple friendship.”
Well, if friendship meant blood, experiments and visions of world domination, endangering Clark's friends and family, then sure, that's all Lex ever asked. Oh yeah, Lana had no idea what she was in for. “Just leave her alone, Lex. Please.”
Lex leaned forward, stared off into the distance and didn't say anything for several seconds. He idly twirled his glass and turned back to Clark. “There is one thing that might dissuade me.” And he leaned all the way back into the arm of the couch, adjusting his hips and made a point of slowly looking Clark from the top of his head to his boots and back again.
“What?” Lex was seriously crazy.
Lex snorted, took another drink. “Drop the false naivete, Clark. It's not nearly as charming as it used to be.” He smiled, one sly turn. “I think we understand each other.”
“Lex...Jesus, Lex, I'm not gay.” He had the sudden urge to bolt and run. He'd make it to the California coast by five o'clock. But that might have been what Lex was counting on so all he did was wipe the sudden sweat from his hands onto the thighs of his jeans.
“Neither am I, Clark. Nevertheless...” Lex smiled, just to himself, as if he just had a curious self-revelation. “...every man has a price and this appears to be mine.”
Clark fought to keep himself from blurting out something, anything, that would reveal his shock. Sure, he'd always felt that innuendo slide down his back like the softest, gentlest of fingers. The memory of it had curled Clark's fingers into the shower tiles more than once. Jonathan had just chuckled later as he handed Clark replacement tile and grout, 'Boys will be boys, but they usually don't leave that much of a dent in the wall.' Yeah, nice one, dad.
Oh, dad...His throat constricted and he let his head fall back into the couch and stared up at the ceiling. He missed his dad, and he missed his girl, and he missed his best friend. God, he missed his best friend the most right now because he used to be able to talk to Lex about all this crap over a lazy game of pool. And sure, the innuendo existed even then, but Lex was just like that with everyone. Clark never took it personally.
And when his dad had even remotely hinted, never said it outright, that Lex only hung out with him because he wanted Clark's ass, Clark shut that discussion down every time. 'He's my friend! Why can't you understand that?'
'Because he's a Luthor, son. And they always want something. Nothing's ever free with them. There is always a price. Always. You just be careful.'
So yeah, maybe he had been a little gay for Lex, but the fact that maybe fathers do know best hurt so much at this moment. He didn't care if Lex was looking at him impatiently waiting for him to run away, take a swing, something. He'd rather look at the ceiling.
“So Lex Luthor wants my ass. That's just great.” And he just laughed because really it was all too fucking funny. Lex had spied on him, hurt his family. Hell, he'd even collected Clark, wanted to analyze him down to every atom in his body. And now he wanted his ass to go along with the rest of it. Maybe he'd reopen the room, display it between the wrecked Porsche and the Clark-size light box. 'Ladies and gentlemen, fellow employees of LuthorCorp, today I have the grand pleasure of presenting Clark Kent's ass.' Too. Fucking. Funny.
Growing up seriously, seriously sucked.
And Lex let out a ghost of a laugh, an echo of how things used to be. “That's what all the good folk of Smallville said for years, Clark. About us.” He shook his head and then looked at him, wistful. “Funny, I thought you had better ears than that.”
Lex then stood up and said, “All rumor aside, I wouldn't read too much into this. It's merely an offer, a choice.” He paused and leaned against the desk. “You've lost her, Clark. She's gone either way. Accept that. If I were you, I'd choose the option that gets you laid. But then again, you never were me, were you?” Lex downed the rest of his scotch and returned to his computer, dismissive.
Clark sat there, put his head in his hands, rubbed his fingers through his hair. He kept swallowing down all the screams that wanted to fly out of him. This was just another twisted Luthor test. He knew that. Lex would find a way to break his word while keeping it. 'Clark, I never said anything about Lana coming to me. I merely said that I wouldn't go to her.' So this supposed offer was just another way of probing him for fear, for weakness, while erasing any and all meaning from their used-to-be friendship--rewriting, reinterpreting the past. Lex expected fight or flight, possibly both. And he'd laugh himself sick as soon as Clark was out the door, all while calling up Lana on his speed dial.
God, Clark just wanted this done, over.
Clark stood up. “Okay. Okay, Lex, let's do this.”
Lex stood up, backed away from the desk. He held his ground and crouched just slightly, preparing for a fight.
Clark just smiled and pulled his t-shirt over and off, threw it across the room. “Come on, Lex, let's go. You want to do this?” Clark unlaced the boots and kicked them off on his way to the door. He turned around in the doorway, undoing his belt, grinning like an idiot because of the look on Lex's face. God, he looked just like he did when Clark goaded him into punching him: puzzled, hurt, mistaken. Clark could almost taste the satisfying blood in his own mouth. He turned and flung his belt down the hall. “You coming or what?”
And as Clark leapt up the staircase three steps at a time, throwing off his socks, hopping out of his jeans and boxers, to run whooping exuberantly naked down the hall towards the bedroom, he thought that it didn't matter. It didn't matter if Lex followed him. It didn't matter if this was a more elaborate trap than he'd guessed. It didn't matter if Lex had a shitload of kryptonite hidden underneath the bed so that Clark would end up splayed across it in parody of the princess and the pea. It didn't matter because in this one small moment, he was leaping, yelling and free.
By the time Lex made it up to the bedroom, cautious, Clark had already leaned back on his elbows across the duvet, legs spread. “Hey, Lex, glad you could make it. Let's fuck.”
Lex circled the bed slowly, back to the wall, hands down and arms spread. “Clark, is everything alright?”
Clark grinned because Lex looked for all the world like he was trying to calm down a wild animal, get it back in its cage before it could hurt the nice people. Maybe that's all that Lex ever saw him as, a tiger he could own and tame. “Never better, Lex. You should get your clothes off, bed's getting cold.”
Lex flickered his eyes to the door, around the room, as if he were reassuring himself of weapons, escape. “Clark, you're not yourself. Perhaps I should call someone.”
“Oh believe me, what you see is what you get. So let me get things started.” And Clark started stroking himself, slowly, eyes never leaving Lex, challenging. Lex still didn't move so he picked up the pace, just a bit, until his chest flushed and his hips started moving on and off the bed. But he never looked away from Lex, not once. “Could it be...that you say things...you don't...mean, Lex? That's so...devious.”
By this time, Clark knew that Lex might have meant some of it. He could hear Lex's heart race, his breath hitch, and the very visible hard-on was the dead giveaway. Lex unbuttoned his shirt. “Oh, I have nothing but the worst of intentions for you, Clark.” He smiled as he flung off the rest. “I always have.”
Clark closed his eyes briefly over that one. Truth or lie, that one still hurt and Lex knew it. But his stroking only faltered slightly. “You better hurry up, Lex, 'cause I'm almost done.” Done with this, done with him, done with them. Just done.
“Hands and knees, Clark.”
Clark didn't move. “So romantic, Lex. Don't I get a kiss first?”
Lex stood by the side of the bed, stroking himself now. He reached into the elaborate night table and pulled out a condom, rolled it on. “You're not in high school anymore. I'm not taking you to the prom. Hands and knees, Clark.”
Clark merely shrugged, rolled over, stared at the headboard.
He could feel the slight dip of the bed as Lex got on, then felt his hands on his ass, spreading it. So much for foreplay. Lex had always seemed like the Mr. Grabby Hands, touchy-feely type. When Clark had allowed himself to imagine this before, he always thought that Lex would seduce him, that he'd give in, that it would be some mindblowing orgasm that would last for days. Lex obviously had every intention of making this hurt as much as possible. Oh well, just another jackoff fantasy blown to smithereens.
Did he mention that growing up seriously sucked?
But Clark had to smile, because this also meant that Lex still thought he could hurt him this way. Lex didn't know everything then. Maybe he had his suspicions, but he didn't know.
So as soon as he felt the jab of Lex's cock, he said “Ow!” For Clark had learned at a very early age the art of the pre-emptive 'ow'. He'd learned that normal people said 'ow' all the time over the tiniest of things. All they had to do was bump into something and it was 'ow'. Now he said 'ow' all the time. Sometimes he overdid it. 'That Clark, he's always so sensitive. What a goofball.'
“Ow! Do you even know what you're doing? Jesus, Lex.”
Lex didn't say anything, just gripped his hips harder and jabbed again. But he didn't get anywhere. He couldn't get in.
“Clark, could you just relax?” One more jab. “Relax!”
Oh shit. Him and his ass of titanium, his own internal fortress. Lex tried once more into the breach, my friends. Oh god. “Maybe you could try your fingers first or something? Seriously, Lex, have you even done this before?”
“Yes, I have! I should think I know how to fuck somebody up the ass!” Lex made one more half-hearted attempt, but Clark could feel the erection had softened. And his own had decided to take a flight to Bermuda or something.
So Clark just bellyflopped down onto the bed, rolled over. Only to laugh. For there was Lex on his knees looking so frustrated and pissed, a trickle of sweat rolling down his chest. His dick was flagging and the condom looked for all the world like a slinky ready to slinky down the stairs.
“Oh Lex, you should see...Oh my god...It's just...” Oh Lex, always so serious.
“Are you laughing at me, Clark? I suggest you stop. Right now.”
“Oh come on, Lex, you've got to admit this is just freaking funny. Really, come on.” And he laughed some more and it rolled down his whole body into a full belly laugh.
Lex just stared at him in disbelief. But then the corners of his mouth twisted up, and he flung his head back and roared out a full laugh too. He lay down beside Clark, still laughing quietly. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He put his hand over his eyes. “Oh God.”
So Clark said, he couldn't help it, “Lex Luthor, master fornicator!”
And Lex laughed and replied, “Fear my dick of steel! Fear it!”
So they laughed for a while, side by side, staring up at the canopy, until Lex said, “You hungry?”
“God, I'm starving.”
Lex rolled over, pressed the intercom. “Phineas, could you have two turkey sandwiches and two sodas sent up to the master suite? Thank you.” He paused, looked over at Clark. “Would you like anything else?” Clark just nodded, but didn't say anything. “Alright then.” He pressed the intercom again. “Oh and Phineas, could you add a few water bottles, a fruit plate and some chips?”
Lex leaned back into the headboard, smiled to himself, “I guess we're having lunch in bed.”
Clark remembered that his clothes were strewn down at least two different hallways and two different stories. “Um, Lex, my clothes...”
Lex merely looked at him. “As much as I care about appearances, I pay my staff very well to be discreet.”
“About this? Lex, it's going to be all over town in two hours!”
“As I said before, the town has been saying this for years. My reputation has...survived intact.” Lex rolled over, looked at him. “Really, Clark, I would think you'd be glad to have my image sullied. If that wasn't the purpose of your uncharacteristic act here, then I'd really like to know what it is you do want.”
Clark could only close his eyes because this was the old Lex, the one he could play pool with, watch DVDs with, goof off with. He crossed both arms over his eyes and said, “Like I know, Lex. Like I even know.”