Fic: Sweet, Cold Revenge (...sort of) (complete)
Title: Sweet, Cold Revenge (...sort of)
Author: josephina_x
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Clark, Lex
Rating: R (because the thought of the possibility of M/M may scare some and squick others *rolls eyes*)
Spoilers: major for 7x10 Persona, goes wildly AU after that
Word count: 7800+
Summary: Clark and Lex wake up after getting unbelievably drunk and falling asleep together after the events of Persona. Lex takes advantage. Chaos ensues.
Warnings: Un-beta'd. Tried to take an OOC fic and force it into being IC (and that never ends well). This is just... out in the realm of I-don't-even-know-where anymore. *headdesk* ...Some sort of AU, if I had to guess(?).
Disclaimer: Not mine, not-for-profit.
Comments: Yes, please! :)
Author's Note: *shakes fist at nicnac918* Darn you -- you did it again! (The previous one was supposed to be a one-shot, you know! :-P)
I am not responsible for this fic. I have never seen it before in my life. If it calls me by name, I will stand over there and pretend I've legally changed said pseudonym to something else, and then duck and run. I am in no way liable for any property damage it causes to-- hey-- damn it SCR, get away from there before you--!
I think I need better insurance. *crosses arms and glares at rampaging fic that is not sorry at all, blasted thing*
(...Ok, maybe it's not that bad.) (It's pretty bad, though.)
(The next one's going to be worse. *headdesk again*)
Also posted to AO3, if you'd rather read there.
Sequel to "Crying Into Scotch", which is here on LJ and here on AO3.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Revenge is sweet.
Revenge is a dish best served cold.
Lex never understood why people always compared revenge to ice cream. It seemed a bit silly.
He thought revenge ought to be bitter and heated. A dark, impatiently-awaited affair.
Of course, Lex had also forever preferred black coffee to sweets. It could be a matter of opinion.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Lex woke up with an incredible hangover underneath one Clark Kent, ex-friend, and generally very heavy farmboy. (not a boy) -person. Farmperson. (...Farmman? He couldn't be a farmhand if he owned the place. ...Well, except that technically Clark didn't -- Martha did -- Lex supposed. Whatever. Damn Clark and his apparent lack of categorization anyway.)
...Luckily, Lex wasn't that hung over -- he remembered the previous night.
He grimaced, glad that the shades were closed, and slowly eased his way out from under said really heavy, rather warm ex-friend.
Lex got himself into the bathroom, undressed, and started showering.
He got through his whole toilette and had finished brushing his teeth and hydrating himself when he realized that he actually felt rather relaxed (except for the last remnants of the hangover).
He spat into the sink and silently laughed at himself in the mirror. Why, if only he could fall asleep with Clark in his bed every night--
...
Oh.
Hm.
...No, no, that really was too evil. Even for him. He shouldn't do that.
But then again, it really would mess with both Lana and Clark. It would serve them both right.
...Maybe just a little? It would certain disrupt things in the short term. Another argument at this stage could truly wreck the 'relationship' going on between the two of them, given what Clark had told him last night.
Lex leaned forward and pushed the bathroom door -- only slightly ajar -- open a bit further. He glanced out through the opening at the bed.
Clark shifted on the bed, turning away from the edge and muttering something incoherent before settling again.
Lex padded over in bare feet with a towel around his waist and bent over Clark slightly.
He watched Clark's forehead unconsciously crinkle up a bit at the hangover he was probably going to be nursing soon, but his eyes stayed closed -- still asleep.
Lex walked over to his closet and rummaged around, then quietly dressed himself for the day. As he was putting on his cufflinks, he saw movement in the mirror above the dresser and glanced back over his shoulder at Clark.
Clark shifted again restlessly. Muttered. Small movements.
Lex slipped on his watch and absently did it up as he walked back over to Clark.
He sighed slightly and sat down sideways on the edge of the bed. He leaned to the right, slightly off-balance, and braced one arm down onto the mattress on the other side of Clark. Lex loomed over him, watching his face.
He reached forward and ran his fingers loosely through Clark's hair like he hadn't been able to do last night when he'd wanted to. Just to see what it was like.
It was smooth and warm. Not quite rough, not quite slick. No real greasy build-up of any sort. Fairly clean, and a bit silky. Rather nice; a generally pleasant sensation.
Clark let out a soft sigh and the muscles in his shoulders relaxed slightly. His body collapsed a little into the bed.
Lex paused.
He thought for a moment and did it again.
Same response, except now the headache wrinkles furrowing Clark's brow were smoothing out a little, too.
Then Clark pulled in a slow deep breath through his nose and softly let it out again, like he was getting the scent of where he was, and relaxed even further with a low hum, to the point where he was almost starting to melt into the mattress.
Hm. That was... unexpected.
Lex mused over this for a moment, then two, incorporating this new information into his thought processes.
This honestly had not occurred to him before.
...Well, this would explain quite a bit. If it were true.
If Lex played this right, this could go well beyond one simple fight between Clark and Lana.
It could really, really screw with the both of them.
...And now that Lex thought about it, Clark had actually made an odd allusion to this effect first, once prior, hadn't he?
So if this didn't quite work out the one way, he could easily twist it in the other. The perfect excuse.
Oh yes, he could really, truly hurt Lana with this. He'd have to be careful with the outcome for Clark, though. He was still somewhat undecided on how badly he wanted Clark to hurt, after everything he'd done (and not done).
I suppose I can always stop if it is going to go too far, Lex decided.
...If he was right.
If he wasn't... well, he probably wasn't, and he could think of something more drastic and fitting farther down the line. He'd certainly have the time for it; Lana wasn't coming back to him -- he knew that now.
This was, of course, assuming that the evil aliens didn't strike first.
Lex sighed quietly and trailed his fingers along Clark's shoulder, stroking the side of his arm through the flannel shirt. (Neither of them had undressed the night before, though they had had the presence of mind to kick their shoes off before falling into peaceful slumber.)
Clark groaned a little and shifted again.
"Clark," Lex said. "Wake up."
"Mmph," said Clark.
Lex pursed his lips.
"Clark." Lex shook his shoulder gently.
"Nnnnnn-nnn...nnn? ohhhh g'd," Clark said as he finally blinked awake and winced, hissing slightly as he squeezed his eyes shut again.
Ah, that would be the hangover kicking in.
"Ohhhh," moaned Clark. "I... am never... making fun of Lois again. About hangovers. Drinking is evil." His shoulders tensed up completely and he rolled over and buried his face in the nearest pillow.
"Clark..." It took a bit of effort for Lex not to laugh. He pushed himself a little further up onto the bed, closer to Clark's side (now that he'd rolled away) and lightly trailed his fingers down the side of Clark's chin.
Clark closed his eyes and shivered.
Oh my.
...Perhaps it was a fluke?
"Clark, come up here," he said, tugging lightly at Clark's shoulder. "Sit up." Clark sighed and cracked open an eye that wasn't firmly embedded in the pillow, but when he saw Lex was serious he just sighed again and pushed himself upright, wincing again at the shift in bloodflow to his head. He brought his hand up and pushed it to his skull at the temple, grimacing.
Clark looked at him in some confusion as Lex left him for a moment to retrieve for him a pitcher of water and a glass. He supplied a very thankful-looking Clark with hydration and a few aspirin -- at least, he looked thankful once he realized how much it was easing the hangover.
"Feeling better?" Lex asked, lifting a hand to trail it along the underside of Clark's jaw, testing.
"Mm," Clark agreed, shivering again at Lex's touch. Hm, thought Lex. The hand holding the glass drifted downwards slightly, apparently hydration no longer a primary concern. With his free hand, Lex took the glass from Clark and smoothly set it on the bedside table, before turning back to him.
"So, Clark," Lex asked conversationally as he brought his left hand up to Clark's face as well, and cupped it gently. "Any regrets?"
"Um, no?" Clark said, with a soft frown of slight confusion, unconsciously leaning forward into Lex's touch.
"No?" Lex echoed. "We did sleep together, after all," he pointed out good-naturedly, letting a touch of humor color the undertones of his voice.
Clark blinked at him and pulled away slightly. (Lex let him.) "Well, yeah, but..." He flushed slightly as he seemed to realize the implication. "It was just... just sleeping. Not... not..." the blush deepened.
"Sex?" Lex said, amused that Clark still couldn't seem to manage getting the word out properly on his own.
Clark blushed and nodded slightly.
Lex perfunctorily decided that it was a good thing he was sticking to the truth for this, then. Despite Clark's drunkness, he seemed to recall last night perfectly well. Attempting to strip him without waking him and then proceed with such a blatant lie would have been rather tasteless, and when caught out would have left little lasting effect other than an angered Clark with an arrogant manner (and rightfully deserved, at that).
On the other hand, using the truth, instead of a pack of disastrous lies, would mean far more lasting damage down the line. A lie supplied by a third party, when found out, generally led to the individuals in question deciding the lie was the worst of it -- an outside problem. This usually led to the lied-to ignoring the rest of any otherwise argument-inducing details as unimportant, setting everything else aside and closing ranks against the liar. Truth, in contrast, Lex knew to be far more insidious, able to have an almost poisonous effect. If utilized at exactly the right moment in time, a truth could take a small crack in a foundation and turn an otherwise solid structure into a broken pile of rubble. Similarly, small and otherwise surmountable obstacles could be warped into a wide gulf not easily crossed. Truths could be horribly divisive, especially when the individuals confronted with them didn't want to have to examine too closely what those truths were revealing.
Quite frankly, Lex felt that the two individuals he was thinking of in particular could use a little forced time spent with some particularly nasty truths. He had little patience for any sort of hypocricy, and even less for willful blindness.
Of course, Lex wasn't about to use up every truth he'd ever had in a bid to separate these two further. Whoever thought lies of omission were as damning as lies of falsehood needd a serious reality check. (After all, by that yardstick, every piece of information one had sole custody of was a lie of omission until shared with others. Even Clark wasn't that much of a hypocrite.) In Lex's experience, too much truth, in many ways, could effectively bring about the same outcome as too many lies. When the people sharing them were not capable of clear, rational thought and calm, sympathetic understanding, or did not have a foundation of trust to build upon and allow them to react in a benign manner, such openness was impossible. (Clark had shown him that.) There was a reason that polite society was built on maxims that gave a generous allowance for little white lies -- most people simply weren't rational.
"Yes, that's true," Lex said. "I suppose sleeping with someone is not a significant thing for you, these days. You're used to sleeping with Lana all the time," Lex added.
He watched Clark stammer a bit, before saying, "That's different!"
"Really?"
"Yes!"
"Mm. I see," Lex said noncommittally.
"--Feeling better?" Lex asked, changing the topic. "Less of a headache?" he added, leaning forward and tilting his head so that he was lightly touching his forehead to Clark's, acting as if he was taking his temperature (as if).
Thinking this the end of things, Clark relaxed marginally and said, "Yes."
"Good," said Lex, and moving his hands up to cup Clark's face again. Clark didn't move away; his eyes just slid a little lower and he tentatively leaned forward a bit into Lex again, this time seeming to consciously do so. He slowly relaxed, as Lex simply sat there with him and waited, not breaking the physical contact.
Lex stroked his thumbs lightly across Clark's cheekbones, and felt Clark shiver again.
Now or never, Lex thought. He mentally steeled himself, then forced the tension out of his shoulders.
And with that, Lex dropped his right hand like a caress, slid his left hand under Clark's chin, holding it oh-so-lightly, then closed his eyes as he leaned forward the last bit of distance and kissed Clark chastely on the lips.
He kept it up for two seconds with no real response from Clark whatsoever. He made ready to pull away, with some variant of 'You'd made mention of my wanting 'everything you have' once before, Clark; I just thought I'd try the direct approach and see if you might be on to something,' at the ready, when Clark did the unexpected.
He let out a breathy little moan, his lips parting slightly. Lex caught a taste of scotch ...and peppermint? How... odd. No morning breath to speak of. Well, Lex wouldn't complain.
Thinking strategically, but in no way letting his mercenary thought processes bleed through into his actions, Lex turned his head slightly, meeting Clark's lips more fully, and slid his right hand down and around to the small of Clark's back while lightly stroking Clark's jawline with his thumb again.
Clark let out another small moan and literally trembled under Lex's touch. He arched his back oddly, as thought he were trying to lean into Lex's touch and into the kiss, but without losing contact with the hand at his back.
Lex made up the difference for him, using gentle pressure from the hand at Clark's back to make up the difference so Clark wouldn't be caught between choices. He stroked at Clark's jaw again, and clinically noted the reaction. Wondering if he could get a heightened response, Lex parted his own lips slightly and licked at Clark's slightly parted lips.
At that, Clark seemed to decide what he wanted to do with his hands. Lex felt Clark's palms splay across his sides at the waist with a tentative touch, that then became a firm grip moving downwards to settle at his hips and pull him in closer.
Not needing his own hand at Clark's back now to maintain proximity, he moved it up to cup Clark's face again, gentling Clark's now-insistent and slightly frantic kiss.
Clark seemed to calm under Lex's stroking, the shudders evening out to a more manageable constant tension. He stopped pushing himself forward, leaning into Lex, and then let Lex guide him, slowly pushing him back until he was up against the headboard, to relax against the solid wood, holding them both up. Their kiss deepened further, with light touches of tongue to lips through the gap at times, not quite testing, not quite exploring. Lex would have called it erotic, had he not been kissing another man.
When Lex finally, slowly pulled away, and caught a good look at Clark's face, he realized Clark had high color on his cheeks, held in the throes of the sensation of physical pleasure. He shivered again when Lex lightly stroked his cheek, and his slitted eyes closed again as he leaned into Lex's palm and rubbed his cheek against it rather brazenly now, like a cat.
Lex found it interesting that Clark seemed to be responding to the light touches almost as much -- if not more so -- than the kissing itself.
He did note that Clark did not immediately try to re-engage him. At least he's not a whore, Lex thought dispassionately, because if Clark had outright thrown himself at Lex, well... suffice it to say that it would not have gone well for him.
Clark's eyes slowly opened, and while his pupils were blown out and his eyes slightly unfocused, he came back to himself fairly quickly. As he did, he slowly started to pull away from Lex, and Lex saw a growing look of deep confusion there.
Ah. Now Lex understood why the kiss had seemed more frantic than enthusiastic, and perhaps why he had not pursued the matter. How very like Clark, to make things so complicated, Lex mentally sighed. Hm. This will make things more interesting, at least.
"You-- you kissed me," Clark said, but it came out more a confused question than a statement.
"Yes, I did," Lex confirmed. "You seemed to enjoy it," Lex replied, looking straight into his eyes. Clark's hands were still at Lex's waist, and Lex wondered if Clark realized this.
"I..." Clark looked really confused. "...Why did you--?"
"Well, you did just sleep in my bed," Lex answered, taking the bite out of his tone and turning something normally flippant into something else entirely. "I'd think that would mean something." And how Lex managed to keep a straight face at that, he'd never know.
"That-- that doesn't--!" Clark started, looking at him wildly, then his eyes widened and he let go and leaned back a bit. "We don't have a-- a-- relationship because--"
"--Oh, I suppose that's true," Lex injerjected mildly, as though the thought had only just occurred to him. "Lois slept in your bed for several months and you didn't have a sexual relationship with her."
"Right!" Clark said, and then, right on the heels of that: "Wait, no, we-- me and Lois weren't sleeping together--"
"You were under the same roof--"
"But she stole my room! I slept in a different bed!" Clark proclaimed.
"Right. And you shared the same bed with Lana," Lex ended.
There was a long pause.
Lex tried not to die laughing in the interim, because that would give the game away. He survived only because he was able to indulge himself in a small patient smile as he watched Clark try to work that one out in his head.
Clark started looking miserable, and Lex mentally winced when Clark quietly said, "I shouldn't have... Lana's going to be angry with--"
"Clark," Lex said in a chiding tone. "She cheated on you for a month. You don't have a relationship with her to be worrying about."
Like twisting a knife in, Lex thought with no small satisfaction as he watched the unrestrained, naked emotions running across Clark's face.
Lex slid forward on the bed ever so slowly. "So why even worry about her at all?"
"She's staying at my house!" Clark supplied.
"And sleeping in your bed. Like Lois." Lex smiled, locking the peals of mental laughter well away from his eyes. "So let her."
"I--"
"You don't even really want to be around her right now, do you," Lex asked, not really a question. "It hurts too much to see her, but you don't want to kick her out." Lex paused for effect, then added, "There's a very simple solution to this, you know."
Lex knew when Clark realized that he had slid right up to him again, when Clark blinked and jolted back against the headboard, not going anywhere by the simple merit of not having anywhere else left to go. Clark glanced around and down at the bed uncertainly at this realization.
When Clark met his eyes again, Lex said, "You could stay here and sleep with me."
"I, uh," Clark said intelligently, a little blank with shock. Dumbfounded was a good look on him.
"Wh--" he added, starting to look uncomfortable and worried as Lex pushed himself up to his knees and slid forward even further, caging Clark with his arms.
Clark's head tilted back and knocked against the headboard lightly when Lex slid up onto his lap, kneeling over him. He brought his arms down to trail his fingers down and up Clark's biceps.
Clark remained oh so very still, his features almost expressionless, as Lex slowly lowered himself, holding Clark's gaze as he talked. "It felt good, didn't it? Sleeping in the same bed? Curled up together?" Just talking, just being together without having to fight? But Lex wasn't about to turn Clark's mind towards belligerency and accusations of who caused what to whom and why they might need to fight, just then.
"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" Lex continued. Clark shivered as Lex lay a palm flat on Clark's chest. Lex leaned forward, turned his head, and breathed by Clark's ear, "And the kiss, as well?" Clark shivered again, almost set to trembling. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat.
Lex slid his hand up to the crook of Clark's neck and then curled his fingers back behind the nape of his neck. He tilted Clark's chin upwards even farther with his thumb, forcing Clark to meet his eyes as he raised himself up on his knees to tower over Clark, baring Clark's throat slightly.
Clark was staring up at him, trembling, and looking so very confused and conflicted just then.
He shivered again and his eyes went half-lidded when Lex slid the hand at his neck up through his soft, fine hair and gently cupped the back of his head.
It didn't escape Lex's notice that Clark wasn't showing any sort of arousal in his lower extremities. Ah, so it likely isn't true, after all. Lex wasn't surprised by that. But...
Lex leaned forward for another kiss, stroking Clark's side with his left hand. He captured Clark's mouth, and closed his eyes after Clark's slid shut completely. When he got his hand under Clark's shirt, Clark's hands were back at his waist again, and Kent started making small whimpering noises under him.
Dear lord in heaven, Lex thought with a mental eyeroll. Apparently shame was low on Clark's list of things he cared about.
Lex slid his hand down farther, down to Clark's waistband, and then started to slide his hand under Clark's jeans and--
--Clark bucked and yelped--
...and Lex found himself splayed out on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
He slowly levered himself upright, nearly glaring. Christ, Clark hadn't needed to push him that hard -- he could have just said something!
"What-- what are you-- what were you doing?!?" Clark said, pulling in on himself, knees up to his chest, eyes wide, and somehow managing to look almost femininely demure.
Lex's mind went blank for a moment. Then he had a great deal of trouble taking Clark's reaction seriously and thinking it through to its logical conclusion because, really, the idea was just ludicrous...
Finally, he asked slowly, "Didn't Lana ever--?"
"I can undress myself!" Clark said, cheeks heating. "I-- I don't need help!" Lex just stared at him, expressionless. "And I don't see why--!" he began heatedly.
Lex laughed. He really couldn't help it.
Clark froze.
"I-- sorry, sorry," Lex said, covering his mouth with the back of a hand. "I just-- Hasn't Lana ever touched you below the waist?"
Oh god, I am going to die laughing soon. Now. I am going to-- Because from the look on Clark's face? No. No, she hadn't. (Certainly not with her hands, at least... or probably much else for that matter.)
"Haven't you ever had sexual intercourse with her at all?" Lex asked, injecting a very calculated amount of mockery into his tone.
"Yeah! Twice!" Clark barked back, blushing angrily.
Lex's eyebrows went up and he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud again.
"We weren't married," Clark grumbled at Lex's nonverbal response, closing down on himself.
Oh. (Lex also noted with some satisfaction Clark's use of the past tense regarding Lana.)
"We were," Lex replied smoothly, rearranging his posture into a more comfortable lounging position, ending up using one hand to brace him against the mattress with his knees tucked under him on his other side.
The look on Clark's face alone when he had to consider the fact that Lex and Lana had had sex together -- multiple times -- was absolutely worth it all, right then and there. (At least in regards to Clark. Lana, on the other hand...)
But, dear lord! They had-- only twice, out of how much time that she and Clark had spent together over the years prior? And then after the divorce? My dear, you must have been so backed up! Lex laughed inwardly to himself. Oh, it was a small wonder that Lana had cheated on Clark, indeed! Because, while there were many things that one could fake, Lana had been absolutely insatiable throughout their marriage. Lex didn't doubt that, when confronted with a 'Clark' who was willing or able to cater to her sexual appetite, that she'd cared very little for anything else that may have seemed out of character, having the majority of what she wanted from him.
Lex honestly never would have asked Clark for such information himself, under any other circumstances. He wouldn't have wanted to know anything about Lana's sexual congress with the man. But this? Oh, this... this was just...
Perfect. It was perfect.
Lex could not have thought of a better setup for this sort of revenge on them if he had tried.
Well, if Clark was not even entirely familiar with the basics of male-female copulation, then he certainly wouldn't be ready for anything more advanced.
Lex was going to get to play the tease.
This was going to be so much fun.
"You... you didn't..." Clark started. Then he paled. "This bed... isn't..." He was practically squirming in place now.
Our marriage bed? Lex's own mind shied away from the thought of taking Clark on a bed in which... He had to suppress a shudder, because that would have been horrifying beyond the pale.
He shook his head and said, easily, "No. I burned our bed. In an incinerator of approprate size." At Clark's troubled look, Lex added, "Lana may have mentioned burning me alive in it at some point during one of our more... vocal divorce proceedings. I thought it best to remove the temptation by removing the possibility."
"Oh... 'kay...?" Clark said, sounding very unsure.
"Not to worry. She probably didn't mean it literally," Lex added lightly. I don't doubt that she'd be perfectly happy to burn me alive in any old bed, he thought darkly, remembering her rather physically-aggressive and then overtly homicidal actions not quite three months ago when she'd been super-powered in a way vaguely reminiscent of Eric Summers. When he'd told Clark that he thought her obsession with him would never let her move on, he hadn't been lying.
He'd also told the truth when he said he wasn't going to press assault charges against her. He'd been intentionally passive so far, in restraining himself and not responding to Lana's actions in like kind. He had left out from his explanation to Clark that he had had hopes that he'd be able to wear her anger down enough to break through to her, to win her back.
But, given this latest incident that Clark had related about the Bizarre-Phantom -- which he had no reason to doubt the veracity of -- he knew now that, even if he did manage to wear her anger down, he'd never be able to let his guard down with her ever again. If she could kill something-- 'someone' she loved with such inpugnity... Lex didn't want that. Perhaps Lionel might think that sort of thing was good for him, would keep his edges sharp, but that was the exact opposite of what Lex had ever strived for in his meaningful relationships -- he didn't want someone he'd have to fear would need killing. He didn't want someone who would feel the same way about him. (He still had nightmares sometimes about that sort of thing.) He didn't want someone who he'd fear would need help in killing to protect themselves.
Of course, Lex was willing -- more than willing -- to protect those he loved, but it would be a nice change to not have to. He wanted someone strong, dependable, reliable, trustworthy, and loving, as well as self-sufficient. Lana had been all of those things to him, but no longer. Now, Lana was trying to be those things for someone else (Clark, and then not-Clark), but failing miserably, especially when it came to trust and love (how ironic). --No, how Lana was clinging to Clark was not good for any of them; it was, in fact, counter-productive to any real healing any of them could hope to make towards one day becoming whole again, especially given the hatred she kept close within her breast.
And now Clark knew that Lana had been lying to him, and otherwise acting in all manner of ways that Lex knew Clark would not, could not approve of, and was not comfortable with in the least. (Clark did have limits to his hypocrisy and his forgiveness, after all.) Lex, however, had defaulted to telling Clark selected truths upon request and acting more than reasonable and very forgiving under very trying circumstances.
...Yes, perhaps he ought to take a more active role in breaking them apart, after all. For the first time in their distorted little triangular relationship, Lex had the high ground. Now that he had some leverage, he could accomplish a great deal -- far more than he ever could have before.
Lex pulled himself from his thoughts and refocused on Clark. "Of course, if you don't like this bed, there are plenty of other rooms in the mansion we can choose from." When Clark blinked at him, he shoved himself forward to sit in the middle of the bed next to Clark, who was closer to the edge. Once they were side-by-side with their backs against the headboard, pressed right up against each other, Lex pulled one knee up to his chest and casually added, "So, is there anything I should know about your preferences in pillows or sheets? I can't do much about bed size; they're all rather large." He was only half-joking.
"I--" Clark's expression turned thunderous. "Lex, I can't sleep over here. And you should stop kissing me!"
"Why?" Lex asked calmly, lining up arguments to the contrary.
"Why?" Clark echoed, looking almost affronted. "You-- I can't just--" He stopped, closed his eyes, clenched his jaw, and collected himself. Then he turned to look at Lex again. "Ok. For starters, I can't sleep here because I don't have any clothes here."
"That's easily remedied," Lex cut in, slowly slithering his hand upwards and around Clark's bicep. He felt Clark's muscles jump and twitch and he rubbed his fingers soothingly along Clark's muscles without looking away from his face, as though it was an afterthought, and not a highly calculated move.
"If I need to go home and get things from my room, at home, where Lana is, that's not exactly avoiding her, Lex," Clark pointed out wearily. "You're the one who said I should sleep here to avoid going home and running into her. That would kind of defeat the purpose of the whole thing," Clark ended with a 'so there' tone.
"So? Buy new clothes. You'll need them anyway, for your job," Lex added, stroking Clark's arm.
"What job?" Clark said suspiciously. "I don't need new clothes for farmwork."
Lex gave a long-suffering sigh. "Clark, I bought the Daily Planet a little more than a month ago, and I'm still dealing with a mass exodus of personnel. Given how you practically haunt the building these days, and how much you contribute to Lois's and Chloe's stories as it is, you might as well get paid for it."
Clark stared at him, agog. Had he really thought I hadn't noticed? Lex wondered.
Finally, Clark spoke. "You... you can't do that," he said weakly.
"Clark--"
Clark shook his head angrily. "I'm not taking a job I don't deserve! That's nepotism!"
Lex did not miss the obvious: that Clark's response did not contain an actual 'no'.
He actually wants off the farm, Lex thought weakly, surprised. He hasn't been driving to Metropolis every other day just for Chloe, he's been-- Lex was not about to pass up this golden opportunity -- certainly not when it had practically fallen into his goddamn lap. He pounced.
"Clark, Human Resources has been taking practically anyone who turns in a resume because the job turnover rate's been tremendous, especially for the support staff. Positions are being filled and refilled almost daily, even now." At least for the lower scutwork positions which you'd be eligible for on your own merits, mainly because the paper's prestige has dropped so rapidly. The lower-end workers don't want to work there on the reduced salary while the paper's good reputation is being restored. They aren't patient enough to stay long enough that their resumes will reflect how they benefited from the experience.
"It's that bad?" Clark said, turing to face him full-on. "I mean, I knew that Lois and Chloe were doing their own basic research for articles, but..." He looked vaguely horrified.
Lex nodded. "They're nearly desperate enough to start grabbing people off the street. I've been approached <>twice now about the feasibility of temporarily reassigning LuthorCorp personnel from the main office to help deal with the workload." He ran a hand over his head. "I don't know how long it might be before they call you after you give them an updated resume, but I can't think that they wouldn't call you in within the week."
"Geez," Clark said, scrubbing a hand through his slept-in hair. "I..." He looked over at Lex. "You promise not to interfere with the hiring process if I do? Give them my resume?"
Lex smiled and gently rubbed Clark's arm again. "If you don't want me to, I promise I won't."
"I don't want you to."
"Then I won't interfere." It's not like I'd need to.
Clark looked into Lex's eyes steadily, then the larger part of the tension in him seemed to unwind and Clark collapsed a little as relief filled his eyes. "Ok," Clark said softly, believing him.
Lex smiled, thinking that it was a good thing that he hadn't even felt a need to lie.
He ought to be up front about how realistic his expectations ought to be, though. "I should warn you -- without my interference, you may not get anything higher than a go-fer job or a filing position at first glance, given your lack of a college degree, but they won't turn you away. You'll get a chance," Lex pressed. "But it's just a chance. They'll only keep you if you can do the work." And I know you can. "If you want to go higher, you'll have to work your way up the food chain, the same as everyone else."
Clark nodded in understanding, his eyes dropping to focus distantly, as though he was already thinking ahead towards his future.
"Just remember to make sure that you prominently list your experience at the Torch on your resume," Lex added, fully-serious.
Clark's head snapped up. "Lex! I'm not riding in on Chloe's coattails!" he protested.
"You won't be," Lex said patiently. "Chloe is trying to overcome the reputation she bought herself when she let Lionel's influence overshadow her the first summer she worked there. You wouldn't do yourself any favors asking her for a recommendation," Lex warned, and felt a little gratified at Clark's wince. "...However, while she may have edited the paper, you did help her with a great deal of the work, and you did contribute articles."
"A lot of them were crap," Clark said sourly.
"But some of them were excellent," Lex reminded him. "Look-- just focus on the support aspects; you'll have a better chance of getting in. It's easier to start in the file room and move to reporting from the inside than to be brought in as a reporter at below sea level."
"I'm not sure I even want to be a reporter," Clark said, rolling his eyes.
Well, I'm not about to push you into a profession, certainly not one whose makeup consists solely of individuals I actively despise like no other. "Then it will suit you even better to tailor your resume as I suggest," Lex responded, trailing his fingers down Clark's arm again.
Clark shifted slightly, then made a noise of grumbling acquiescence, and Lex noted that, yes, strategic gentle caresses at key times really did help to shift Clark's mood during an argument to Lex's better advantage. It was quite handy.
And so would be Clark's employment at the Daily Planet. With Clark actually legally working there as an employee, he'd be spending even more time there. He would have contact with Lois and Chloe, certainly, but mostly during work hours, and Lex would know exactly what he was doing, and who with, over the course of the day. The situation would be far more controllable.
And, it occurred to Lex that if Lex was truly lucky, he might even be able to convince Clark of the benefits of sleeping at the Penthouse, instead of making the trek back to Smallville every day -- and wouldn't that make life difficult for Lana? Because if that came to pass, Clark would be spending the majority of his time in either the LuthorCorp Towers or the Daily Planet, both of which Lex owned, and Lana was loathe to set foot on the premises of any of his businesses, as of late.
Clark would be in Metropolis with him, while Lana would be stuck in Smallville with Chloe and Lois, exiled away from them both.
"But... about the kissing."
Oh, wonderful -- we've moved on? No more arguments about not sleeping with me? Lex could have danced a jig, if he'd wanted Clark to know he was up to something.
"Yes? What about the kissing?"
"You shouldn't do that."
"Oh? Why not?" Lex asked as innocently as he could, stroking Clark's arm again.
"It-- It's just--" Clark stopped and turned away, frustrated.
"You seem to like it," Lex said, leaning in slightly. "Are you afraid that that's only because you're drunk?"
Clark went still for a moment, then slowly turned his head back towards Lex, so that Lex was in his peripherial vision -- but not enough to face him, and he didn't raise his eyes.
"Maybe..." Clark said quietly.
That answers that question, Lex thought. He obviously hasn't figured out the 'why' of it yet, if he's perfectly willing to latch on to the first idea he hears like that.
"Well, then. Perhaps we should table this discussion for now, and revisit it at some point when you are neither drunk nor hungover?" Lex supplied reasonably, with a Sphinx-like smile.
Clark blinked at him again, clearly not having expected that maneuver. "Ok," he agreed.
Got you, thought Lex.
"But... but it's a little... weird. To be. With you. --sortof," Clark added, ended in a mumble as he stared down at his hands.
Ugh. "Why is it weird, Clark?"
Clark gave him an 'are-you-shitting-me?' look. "Because... we don't get along anymore! And... you're a guy and... and.... brothers!" he blurted out, only half-coherently.
"Would you like those answered in order?" Lex teased. "Because we seem to be getting along just fine at the moment," -- which probably has something to do with a distinct lack of Lana about, I don't doubt, -- "gender should, quite frankly, be incidental when it comes to love," -- and I can't believe that your Metropolis-born-and-raised mother would have taught you differently when it comes to that sort of tolerance -- "and as for 'brothers'..." Lex drew out the word while he slid his free left hand up behind Clark's neck -- effectively boxing him in again, between the hand Lex had at his right arm and the headboard still at his back.
"Lex--" Clark started to complain. Apparently he'd finally started to pick up on the pattern Lex had been consistent in repeating. Ah good -- he noticed! Clark's level of obliviousness was worrisome, even on the best of days, and Lex had never been good at 'blunt'. Hm. Best change it up a little then, Lex thought, not that he'd planned on kissing Clark again anytime soon.
"Clark, if you'd read any sort of proper translation of the classics, you'd know what most of those 'brothers', blood-related or otherwise, tended to do together."
"Wh-what?"
"Seeking comfort in the arms of one's closest, dearest friend was not uncommon, in those days," Lex slowly explained.
"And, of course, we are not actually blood-brothers," Lex added, turning fully to his right and tugging Clark's arm past his own shoulder. Lex smiled as he pulled Clark towards him and ended up partially leaning up against Clark's wide chest, once he'd completed his neat little maneuver.
"L-Lana!" Clark interjected desperately.
"She's an ex. People are allowed to ignore exes," he told Clark as he made small stroking motions with his fingers at the back of Clark's neck. "It's practically a requirement."
"But--!"
Lex let go of Clark's neck and put a single finger to Clark's lips -- a light touch. "Clark," he soothed, "We are sharing a bed, sleeping together, and only possibly doing more kissing." He had to stifle a laugh at the confused half-pout. "I recommend that we do not overthink this." He let himself smile. "Frankly, I see no reason for either of us to feel obligated to wander about in a depressed fugure state, lamenting lost love, and neither should you."
"But..." Clark said, more softly this time.
Lex reached up and stroked Clark's cheek again. "I'm not going to force you to do something you don't enjoy, Clark. If you don't like something, just say so, and that will be the end of it."
Clark shivered again as Lex gently stroked his cheek once, twice more. His eyes slid shut, almost against his will, and as he still continued to leaned into Lex's touch, he looked almost pained.
"Okay," Clark quietly choked out.
"Okay," Lex agreed, slowly withdrawing, while deep in his heart he gave a dark, final laugh.
Clark made the normal small, murmured niceties to excuse himself, and Lex let him go. For now. (It was no great matter to do so. He'd be back, after all -- soon enough.)
Lex waited until he could no longer hear Clark's footsteps echoing down the hallway, before he slid over to the side of the bed and stood. He went to the window and drew back the curtain.
He watched Clark get into his truck and drive away. It didn't escape Lex's thoughts that Clark must have driven himself here while inebriated the night before.
Lex smirked at the thought of Clark breaking the law with such casual inpunity. (When he had a sudden vision of Clark's truck wrapped around a tree, Lex's smile slipped and he banished the thought as quickly as it had arrived without thinking too much about it.)
He walked over to his dresser and stared into the mirror above it, letting his gaze unfocus.
He thought about Clark's confusion, and how Lex had him in the palm of his hand, now.
Clark wasn't attracted to men -- that much was obvious from his lack of arousal or erection earlier. Oh no, that much was obvious. To Lex. Clark seemed to have no idea of the truth of the matter.
No, it wasn't male attraction -- it had been all about the physical touch.
Lex wasn't much surprised; it made quite a good bit of sense, in retrospect. Clark had always had a rather marked boundary of personal space surrounding him. (Lex would know; he consciously and carefully cultivated his own.) There had been rare occasions when he would give and receive physical comfort -- those hugs, especially -- but they had been so very few and far between. But, oh, how very brightly and incandescently happy he'd seemed when doing so!
Clark was completely starved for physical affection, and had been for years.
He'd let others get close from time to time, but almost never would he let anyone breach that final boundary.
Until now.
Lex thought over the events of the previous night with almost fond amusement. Clark had gotten so drunk that those personal boundaries of his had been thoroughly shot to hell. And then he'd come to Lex. And then he'd violated Lex's boundaries, but let his own be completely ignored in return. For hours.
And now, well after the fact, they'd stayed torn down.
(He wouldn't get the space to build them back up again -- Lex would see to that.)
And the best part of the whole mess? --There was no way for Clark to learn any of this on his own.
Confirmation of his heterosexuality? Clark had no male friends to speak of anymore. (Pete was gone long since, and Oliver hardly counted; both were ragingly homophobic -- no help there.)
Discovery of the unilateral and gender-blind nature of his reaction to physical touch? Clark wasn't about to let Lana get close again anytime soon, physically or otherwise -- not unless Lex had grossly misread him. Chloe was dating Jimmy, and there was already enough tension between he and Clark that Chloe wouldn't dare voice the thought -- not when she'd be risking her own relationship.
...And Lois? Laughable. Clark's antipathy towards her would preclude any such happenstance. And, even if Chloe managed to arrange such a thing between Clark and Lois, neither would be happy about it, neither would take it seriously, and Clark's perception and reactions would be strongly colored by that alone (...not that Lex thought the General's eldest daughter even capable of being gentle.)
And all this, of course, was dependent on Clark himself being comfortable enough with his friends to openly discuss what had occurred between them in the last few hours. Which Lex highly doubted Clark was wont to do.
Lex refocused on the here and now, looking down and setting his hands on the flat, cool wooden surface of the dresser. He leaned forward, bracing himself on his fingertips as he looked back up at himself in the mirror... and his smile slowly morphed into a grin, mean and shark-like.
Because Clark was his for the duration.
He could not wait to see the look on Lana's face.
It really was too bad that he didn't find men sexually attractive -- that could have added a whole new layer to the game and kept Lana guessing. As things stood now, Lana would know better, know exactly what he was doing. (He doubted Clark would listen to her, the way things stood between them. After all, Lana had hurt him deeply and Lex... wouldn't lie. And with Clark not wanting more than he'd been given already, and Lex being willing to keep giving the rest of what little Clark now expected of him... Clark had never been exposed to the idea of someone lying with their body so intimately. He'd never suspect the unvoiced truth.)
All-in-all, Lex supposed it could have been worse -- it was a lucky thing, in fact, that he didn't find Clark's kisses completely repellant, as he'd first feared he might. He'd always had a hell of a time hiding disgust when it reared its ugly head, but it didn't look like that would be a problem here. As for his own needs... well, at least he could find some comfort in Clark's reactions -- Lex had almost enjoyed the feeling he'd gotten when he'd discovered exactly how easily he could manipulate Clark with close physical contact, and how very thoroughly self-debasing Clark's responses were.
This was going to be interesting. It would certainly get Lana's attention.
He might not have been able to keep Lana from Clark, but to keep Clark from Lana?
Lex tilted his head back and laughed, loud and long.
~*~*~*~*~*~
AN2: Next in the series is here.
Author: josephina_x
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Clark, Lex
Rating: R (because the thought of the possibility of M/M may scare some and squick others *rolls eyes*)
Spoilers: major for 7x10 Persona, goes wildly AU after that
Word count: 7800+
Summary: Clark and Lex wake up after getting unbelievably drunk and falling asleep together after the events of Persona. Lex takes advantage. Chaos ensues.
Warnings: Un-beta'd. Tried to take an OOC fic and force it into being IC (and that never ends well). This is just... out in the realm of I-don't-even-know-where anymore. *headdesk* ...Some sort of AU, if I had to guess(?).
Disclaimer: Not mine, not-for-profit.
Comments: Yes, please! :)
Author's Note: *shakes fist at nicnac918* Darn you -- you did it again! (The previous one was supposed to be a one-shot, you know! :-P)
I am not responsible for this fic. I have never seen it before in my life. If it calls me by name, I will stand over there and pretend I've legally changed said pseudonym to something else, and then duck and run. I am in no way liable for any property damage it causes to-- hey-- damn it SCR, get away from there before you--!
I think I need better insurance. *crosses arms and glares at rampaging fic that is not sorry at all, blasted thing*
(...Ok, maybe it's not that bad.) (It's pretty bad, though.)
(The next one's going to be worse. *headdesk again*)
Also posted to AO3, if you'd rather read there.
Sequel to "Crying Into Scotch", which is here on LJ and here on AO3.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Revenge is sweet.
Revenge is a dish best served cold.
Lex never understood why people always compared revenge to ice cream. It seemed a bit silly.
He thought revenge ought to be bitter and heated. A dark, impatiently-awaited affair.
Of course, Lex had also forever preferred black coffee to sweets. It could be a matter of opinion.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Lex woke up with an incredible hangover underneath one Clark Kent, ex-friend, and generally very heavy farmboy. (not a boy) -person. Farmperson. (...Farmman? He couldn't be a farmhand if he owned the place. ...Well, except that technically Clark didn't -- Martha did -- Lex supposed. Whatever. Damn Clark and his apparent lack of categorization anyway.)
...Luckily, Lex wasn't that hung over -- he remembered the previous night.
He grimaced, glad that the shades were closed, and slowly eased his way out from under said really heavy, rather warm ex-friend.
Lex got himself into the bathroom, undressed, and started showering.
He got through his whole toilette and had finished brushing his teeth and hydrating himself when he realized that he actually felt rather relaxed (except for the last remnants of the hangover).
He spat into the sink and silently laughed at himself in the mirror. Why, if only he could fall asleep with Clark in his bed every night--
...
Oh.
Hm.
...No, no, that really was too evil. Even for him. He shouldn't do that.
But then again, it really would mess with both Lana and Clark. It would serve them both right.
...Maybe just a little? It would certain disrupt things in the short term. Another argument at this stage could truly wreck the 'relationship' going on between the two of them, given what Clark had told him last night.
Lex leaned forward and pushed the bathroom door -- only slightly ajar -- open a bit further. He glanced out through the opening at the bed.
Clark shifted on the bed, turning away from the edge and muttering something incoherent before settling again.
Lex padded over in bare feet with a towel around his waist and bent over Clark slightly.
He watched Clark's forehead unconsciously crinkle up a bit at the hangover he was probably going to be nursing soon, but his eyes stayed closed -- still asleep.
Lex walked over to his closet and rummaged around, then quietly dressed himself for the day. As he was putting on his cufflinks, he saw movement in the mirror above the dresser and glanced back over his shoulder at Clark.
Clark shifted again restlessly. Muttered. Small movements.
Lex slipped on his watch and absently did it up as he walked back over to Clark.
He sighed slightly and sat down sideways on the edge of the bed. He leaned to the right, slightly off-balance, and braced one arm down onto the mattress on the other side of Clark. Lex loomed over him, watching his face.
He reached forward and ran his fingers loosely through Clark's hair like he hadn't been able to do last night when he'd wanted to. Just to see what it was like.
It was smooth and warm. Not quite rough, not quite slick. No real greasy build-up of any sort. Fairly clean, and a bit silky. Rather nice; a generally pleasant sensation.
Clark let out a soft sigh and the muscles in his shoulders relaxed slightly. His body collapsed a little into the bed.
Lex paused.
He thought for a moment and did it again.
Same response, except now the headache wrinkles furrowing Clark's brow were smoothing out a little, too.
Then Clark pulled in a slow deep breath through his nose and softly let it out again, like he was getting the scent of where he was, and relaxed even further with a low hum, to the point where he was almost starting to melt into the mattress.
Hm. That was... unexpected.
Lex mused over this for a moment, then two, incorporating this new information into his thought processes.
This honestly had not occurred to him before.
...Well, this would explain quite a bit. If it were true.
If Lex played this right, this could go well beyond one simple fight between Clark and Lana.
It could really, really screw with the both of them.
...And now that Lex thought about it, Clark had actually made an odd allusion to this effect first, once prior, hadn't he?
So if this didn't quite work out the one way, he could easily twist it in the other. The perfect excuse.
Oh yes, he could really, truly hurt Lana with this. He'd have to be careful with the outcome for Clark, though. He was still somewhat undecided on how badly he wanted Clark to hurt, after everything he'd done (and not done).
I suppose I can always stop if it is going to go too far, Lex decided.
...If he was right.
If he wasn't... well, he probably wasn't, and he could think of something more drastic and fitting farther down the line. He'd certainly have the time for it; Lana wasn't coming back to him -- he knew that now.
This was, of course, assuming that the evil aliens didn't strike first.
Lex sighed quietly and trailed his fingers along Clark's shoulder, stroking the side of his arm through the flannel shirt. (Neither of them had undressed the night before, though they had had the presence of mind to kick their shoes off before falling into peaceful slumber.)
Clark groaned a little and shifted again.
"Clark," Lex said. "Wake up."
"Mmph," said Clark.
Lex pursed his lips.
"Clark." Lex shook his shoulder gently.
"Nnnnnn-nnn...nnn? ohhhh g'd," Clark said as he finally blinked awake and winced, hissing slightly as he squeezed his eyes shut again.
Ah, that would be the hangover kicking in.
"Ohhhh," moaned Clark. "I... am never... making fun of Lois again. About hangovers. Drinking is evil." His shoulders tensed up completely and he rolled over and buried his face in the nearest pillow.
"Clark..." It took a bit of effort for Lex not to laugh. He pushed himself a little further up onto the bed, closer to Clark's side (now that he'd rolled away) and lightly trailed his fingers down the side of Clark's chin.
Clark closed his eyes and shivered.
Oh my.
...Perhaps it was a fluke?
"Clark, come up here," he said, tugging lightly at Clark's shoulder. "Sit up." Clark sighed and cracked open an eye that wasn't firmly embedded in the pillow, but when he saw Lex was serious he just sighed again and pushed himself upright, wincing again at the shift in bloodflow to his head. He brought his hand up and pushed it to his skull at the temple, grimacing.
Clark looked at him in some confusion as Lex left him for a moment to retrieve for him a pitcher of water and a glass. He supplied a very thankful-looking Clark with hydration and a few aspirin -- at least, he looked thankful once he realized how much it was easing the hangover.
"Feeling better?" Lex asked, lifting a hand to trail it along the underside of Clark's jaw, testing.
"Mm," Clark agreed, shivering again at Lex's touch. Hm, thought Lex. The hand holding the glass drifted downwards slightly, apparently hydration no longer a primary concern. With his free hand, Lex took the glass from Clark and smoothly set it on the bedside table, before turning back to him.
"So, Clark," Lex asked conversationally as he brought his left hand up to Clark's face as well, and cupped it gently. "Any regrets?"
"Um, no?" Clark said, with a soft frown of slight confusion, unconsciously leaning forward into Lex's touch.
"No?" Lex echoed. "We did sleep together, after all," he pointed out good-naturedly, letting a touch of humor color the undertones of his voice.
Clark blinked at him and pulled away slightly. (Lex let him.) "Well, yeah, but..." He flushed slightly as he seemed to realize the implication. "It was just... just sleeping. Not... not..." the blush deepened.
"Sex?" Lex said, amused that Clark still couldn't seem to manage getting the word out properly on his own.
Clark blushed and nodded slightly.
Lex perfunctorily decided that it was a good thing he was sticking to the truth for this, then. Despite Clark's drunkness, he seemed to recall last night perfectly well. Attempting to strip him without waking him and then proceed with such a blatant lie would have been rather tasteless, and when caught out would have left little lasting effect other than an angered Clark with an arrogant manner (and rightfully deserved, at that).
On the other hand, using the truth, instead of a pack of disastrous lies, would mean far more lasting damage down the line. A lie supplied by a third party, when found out, generally led to the individuals in question deciding the lie was the worst of it -- an outside problem. This usually led to the lied-to ignoring the rest of any otherwise argument-inducing details as unimportant, setting everything else aside and closing ranks against the liar. Truth, in contrast, Lex knew to be far more insidious, able to have an almost poisonous effect. If utilized at exactly the right moment in time, a truth could take a small crack in a foundation and turn an otherwise solid structure into a broken pile of rubble. Similarly, small and otherwise surmountable obstacles could be warped into a wide gulf not easily crossed. Truths could be horribly divisive, especially when the individuals confronted with them didn't want to have to examine too closely what those truths were revealing.
Quite frankly, Lex felt that the two individuals he was thinking of in particular could use a little forced time spent with some particularly nasty truths. He had little patience for any sort of hypocricy, and even less for willful blindness.
Of course, Lex wasn't about to use up every truth he'd ever had in a bid to separate these two further. Whoever thought lies of omission were as damning as lies of falsehood needd a serious reality check. (After all, by that yardstick, every piece of information one had sole custody of was a lie of omission until shared with others. Even Clark wasn't that much of a hypocrite.) In Lex's experience, too much truth, in many ways, could effectively bring about the same outcome as too many lies. When the people sharing them were not capable of clear, rational thought and calm, sympathetic understanding, or did not have a foundation of trust to build upon and allow them to react in a benign manner, such openness was impossible. (Clark had shown him that.) There was a reason that polite society was built on maxims that gave a generous allowance for little white lies -- most people simply weren't rational.
"Yes, that's true," Lex said. "I suppose sleeping with someone is not a significant thing for you, these days. You're used to sleeping with Lana all the time," Lex added.
He watched Clark stammer a bit, before saying, "That's different!"
"Really?"
"Yes!"
"Mm. I see," Lex said noncommittally.
"--Feeling better?" Lex asked, changing the topic. "Less of a headache?" he added, leaning forward and tilting his head so that he was lightly touching his forehead to Clark's, acting as if he was taking his temperature (as if).
Thinking this the end of things, Clark relaxed marginally and said, "Yes."
"Good," said Lex, and moving his hands up to cup Clark's face again. Clark didn't move away; his eyes just slid a little lower and he tentatively leaned forward a bit into Lex again, this time seeming to consciously do so. He slowly relaxed, as Lex simply sat there with him and waited, not breaking the physical contact.
Lex stroked his thumbs lightly across Clark's cheekbones, and felt Clark shiver again.
Now or never, Lex thought. He mentally steeled himself, then forced the tension out of his shoulders.
And with that, Lex dropped his right hand like a caress, slid his left hand under Clark's chin, holding it oh-so-lightly, then closed his eyes as he leaned forward the last bit of distance and kissed Clark chastely on the lips.
He kept it up for two seconds with no real response from Clark whatsoever. He made ready to pull away, with some variant of 'You'd made mention of my wanting 'everything you have' once before, Clark; I just thought I'd try the direct approach and see if you might be on to something,' at the ready, when Clark did the unexpected.
He let out a breathy little moan, his lips parting slightly. Lex caught a taste of scotch ...and peppermint? How... odd. No morning breath to speak of. Well, Lex wouldn't complain.
Thinking strategically, but in no way letting his mercenary thought processes bleed through into his actions, Lex turned his head slightly, meeting Clark's lips more fully, and slid his right hand down and around to the small of Clark's back while lightly stroking Clark's jawline with his thumb again.
Clark let out another small moan and literally trembled under Lex's touch. He arched his back oddly, as thought he were trying to lean into Lex's touch and into the kiss, but without losing contact with the hand at his back.
Lex made up the difference for him, using gentle pressure from the hand at Clark's back to make up the difference so Clark wouldn't be caught between choices. He stroked at Clark's jaw again, and clinically noted the reaction. Wondering if he could get a heightened response, Lex parted his own lips slightly and licked at Clark's slightly parted lips.
At that, Clark seemed to decide what he wanted to do with his hands. Lex felt Clark's palms splay across his sides at the waist with a tentative touch, that then became a firm grip moving downwards to settle at his hips and pull him in closer.
Not needing his own hand at Clark's back now to maintain proximity, he moved it up to cup Clark's face again, gentling Clark's now-insistent and slightly frantic kiss.
Clark seemed to calm under Lex's stroking, the shudders evening out to a more manageable constant tension. He stopped pushing himself forward, leaning into Lex, and then let Lex guide him, slowly pushing him back until he was up against the headboard, to relax against the solid wood, holding them both up. Their kiss deepened further, with light touches of tongue to lips through the gap at times, not quite testing, not quite exploring. Lex would have called it erotic, had he not been kissing another man.
When Lex finally, slowly pulled away, and caught a good look at Clark's face, he realized Clark had high color on his cheeks, held in the throes of the sensation of physical pleasure. He shivered again when Lex lightly stroked his cheek, and his slitted eyes closed again as he leaned into Lex's palm and rubbed his cheek against it rather brazenly now, like a cat.
Lex found it interesting that Clark seemed to be responding to the light touches almost as much -- if not more so -- than the kissing itself.
He did note that Clark did not immediately try to re-engage him. At least he's not a whore, Lex thought dispassionately, because if Clark had outright thrown himself at Lex, well... suffice it to say that it would not have gone well for him.
Clark's eyes slowly opened, and while his pupils were blown out and his eyes slightly unfocused, he came back to himself fairly quickly. As he did, he slowly started to pull away from Lex, and Lex saw a growing look of deep confusion there.
Ah. Now Lex understood why the kiss had seemed more frantic than enthusiastic, and perhaps why he had not pursued the matter. How very like Clark, to make things so complicated, Lex mentally sighed. Hm. This will make things more interesting, at least.
"You-- you kissed me," Clark said, but it came out more a confused question than a statement.
"Yes, I did," Lex confirmed. "You seemed to enjoy it," Lex replied, looking straight into his eyes. Clark's hands were still at Lex's waist, and Lex wondered if Clark realized this.
"I..." Clark looked really confused. "...Why did you--?"
"Well, you did just sleep in my bed," Lex answered, taking the bite out of his tone and turning something normally flippant into something else entirely. "I'd think that would mean something." And how Lex managed to keep a straight face at that, he'd never know.
"That-- that doesn't--!" Clark started, looking at him wildly, then his eyes widened and he let go and leaned back a bit. "We don't have a-- a-- relationship because--"
"--Oh, I suppose that's true," Lex injerjected mildly, as though the thought had only just occurred to him. "Lois slept in your bed for several months and you didn't have a sexual relationship with her."
"Right!" Clark said, and then, right on the heels of that: "Wait, no, we-- me and Lois weren't sleeping together--"
"You were under the same roof--"
"But she stole my room! I slept in a different bed!" Clark proclaimed.
"Right. And you shared the same bed with Lana," Lex ended.
There was a long pause.
Lex tried not to die laughing in the interim, because that would give the game away. He survived only because he was able to indulge himself in a small patient smile as he watched Clark try to work that one out in his head.
Clark started looking miserable, and Lex mentally winced when Clark quietly said, "I shouldn't have... Lana's going to be angry with--"
"Clark," Lex said in a chiding tone. "She cheated on you for a month. You don't have a relationship with her to be worrying about."
Like twisting a knife in, Lex thought with no small satisfaction as he watched the unrestrained, naked emotions running across Clark's face.
Lex slid forward on the bed ever so slowly. "So why even worry about her at all?"
"She's staying at my house!" Clark supplied.
"And sleeping in your bed. Like Lois." Lex smiled, locking the peals of mental laughter well away from his eyes. "So let her."
"I--"
"You don't even really want to be around her right now, do you," Lex asked, not really a question. "It hurts too much to see her, but you don't want to kick her out." Lex paused for effect, then added, "There's a very simple solution to this, you know."
Lex knew when Clark realized that he had slid right up to him again, when Clark blinked and jolted back against the headboard, not going anywhere by the simple merit of not having anywhere else left to go. Clark glanced around and down at the bed uncertainly at this realization.
When Clark met his eyes again, Lex said, "You could stay here and sleep with me."
"I, uh," Clark said intelligently, a little blank with shock. Dumbfounded was a good look on him.
"Wh--" he added, starting to look uncomfortable and worried as Lex pushed himself up to his knees and slid forward even further, caging Clark with his arms.
Clark's head tilted back and knocked against the headboard lightly when Lex slid up onto his lap, kneeling over him. He brought his arms down to trail his fingers down and up Clark's biceps.
Clark remained oh so very still, his features almost expressionless, as Lex slowly lowered himself, holding Clark's gaze as he talked. "It felt good, didn't it? Sleeping in the same bed? Curled up together?" Just talking, just being together without having to fight? But Lex wasn't about to turn Clark's mind towards belligerency and accusations of who caused what to whom and why they might need to fight, just then.
"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" Lex continued. Clark shivered as Lex lay a palm flat on Clark's chest. Lex leaned forward, turned his head, and breathed by Clark's ear, "And the kiss, as well?" Clark shivered again, almost set to trembling. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat.
Lex slid his hand up to the crook of Clark's neck and then curled his fingers back behind the nape of his neck. He tilted Clark's chin upwards even farther with his thumb, forcing Clark to meet his eyes as he raised himself up on his knees to tower over Clark, baring Clark's throat slightly.
Clark was staring up at him, trembling, and looking so very confused and conflicted just then.
He shivered again and his eyes went half-lidded when Lex slid the hand at his neck up through his soft, fine hair and gently cupped the back of his head.
It didn't escape Lex's notice that Clark wasn't showing any sort of arousal in his lower extremities. Ah, so it likely isn't true, after all. Lex wasn't surprised by that. But...
Lex leaned forward for another kiss, stroking Clark's side with his left hand. He captured Clark's mouth, and closed his eyes after Clark's slid shut completely. When he got his hand under Clark's shirt, Clark's hands were back at his waist again, and Kent started making small whimpering noises under him.
Dear lord in heaven, Lex thought with a mental eyeroll. Apparently shame was low on Clark's list of things he cared about.
Lex slid his hand down farther, down to Clark's waistband, and then started to slide his hand under Clark's jeans and--
--Clark bucked and yelped--
...and Lex found himself splayed out on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
He slowly levered himself upright, nearly glaring. Christ, Clark hadn't needed to push him that hard -- he could have just said something!
"What-- what are you-- what were you doing?!?" Clark said, pulling in on himself, knees up to his chest, eyes wide, and somehow managing to look almost femininely demure.
Lex's mind went blank for a moment. Then he had a great deal of trouble taking Clark's reaction seriously and thinking it through to its logical conclusion because, really, the idea was just ludicrous...
Finally, he asked slowly, "Didn't Lana ever--?"
"I can undress myself!" Clark said, cheeks heating. "I-- I don't need help!" Lex just stared at him, expressionless. "And I don't see why--!" he began heatedly.
Lex laughed. He really couldn't help it.
Clark froze.
"I-- sorry, sorry," Lex said, covering his mouth with the back of a hand. "I just-- Hasn't Lana ever touched you below the waist?"
Oh god, I am going to die laughing soon. Now. I am going to-- Because from the look on Clark's face? No. No, she hadn't. (Certainly not with her hands, at least... or probably much else for that matter.)
"Haven't you ever had sexual intercourse with her at all?" Lex asked, injecting a very calculated amount of mockery into his tone.
"Yeah! Twice!" Clark barked back, blushing angrily.
Lex's eyebrows went up and he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud again.
"We weren't married," Clark grumbled at Lex's nonverbal response, closing down on himself.
Oh. (Lex also noted with some satisfaction Clark's use of the past tense regarding Lana.)
"We were," Lex replied smoothly, rearranging his posture into a more comfortable lounging position, ending up using one hand to brace him against the mattress with his knees tucked under him on his other side.
The look on Clark's face alone when he had to consider the fact that Lex and Lana had had sex together -- multiple times -- was absolutely worth it all, right then and there. (At least in regards to Clark. Lana, on the other hand...)
But, dear lord! They had-- only twice, out of how much time that she and Clark had spent together over the years prior? And then after the divorce? My dear, you must have been so backed up! Lex laughed inwardly to himself. Oh, it was a small wonder that Lana had cheated on Clark, indeed! Because, while there were many things that one could fake, Lana had been absolutely insatiable throughout their marriage. Lex didn't doubt that, when confronted with a 'Clark' who was willing or able to cater to her sexual appetite, that she'd cared very little for anything else that may have seemed out of character, having the majority of what she wanted from him.
Lex honestly never would have asked Clark for such information himself, under any other circumstances. He wouldn't have wanted to know anything about Lana's sexual congress with the man. But this? Oh, this... this was just...
Perfect. It was perfect.
Lex could not have thought of a better setup for this sort of revenge on them if he had tried.
Well, if Clark was not even entirely familiar with the basics of male-female copulation, then he certainly wouldn't be ready for anything more advanced.
Lex was going to get to play the tease.
This was going to be so much fun.
"You... you didn't..." Clark started. Then he paled. "This bed... isn't..." He was practically squirming in place now.
Our marriage bed? Lex's own mind shied away from the thought of taking Clark on a bed in which... He had to suppress a shudder, because that would have been horrifying beyond the pale.
He shook his head and said, easily, "No. I burned our bed. In an incinerator of approprate size." At Clark's troubled look, Lex added, "Lana may have mentioned burning me alive in it at some point during one of our more... vocal divorce proceedings. I thought it best to remove the temptation by removing the possibility."
"Oh... 'kay...?" Clark said, sounding very unsure.
"Not to worry. She probably didn't mean it literally," Lex added lightly. I don't doubt that she'd be perfectly happy to burn me alive in any old bed, he thought darkly, remembering her rather physically-aggressive and then overtly homicidal actions not quite three months ago when she'd been super-powered in a way vaguely reminiscent of Eric Summers. When he'd told Clark that he thought her obsession with him would never let her move on, he hadn't been lying.
He'd also told the truth when he said he wasn't going to press assault charges against her. He'd been intentionally passive so far, in restraining himself and not responding to Lana's actions in like kind. He had left out from his explanation to Clark that he had had hopes that he'd be able to wear her anger down enough to break through to her, to win her back.
But, given this latest incident that Clark had related about the Bizarre-Phantom -- which he had no reason to doubt the veracity of -- he knew now that, even if he did manage to wear her anger down, he'd never be able to let his guard down with her ever again. If she could kill something-- 'someone' she loved with such inpugnity... Lex didn't want that. Perhaps Lionel might think that sort of thing was good for him, would keep his edges sharp, but that was the exact opposite of what Lex had ever strived for in his meaningful relationships -- he didn't want someone he'd have to fear would need killing. He didn't want someone who would feel the same way about him. (He still had nightmares sometimes about that sort of thing.) He didn't want someone who he'd fear would need help in killing to protect themselves.
Of course, Lex was willing -- more than willing -- to protect those he loved, but it would be a nice change to not have to. He wanted someone strong, dependable, reliable, trustworthy, and loving, as well as self-sufficient. Lana had been all of those things to him, but no longer. Now, Lana was trying to be those things for someone else (Clark, and then not-Clark), but failing miserably, especially when it came to trust and love (how ironic). --No, how Lana was clinging to Clark was not good for any of them; it was, in fact, counter-productive to any real healing any of them could hope to make towards one day becoming whole again, especially given the hatred she kept close within her breast.
And now Clark knew that Lana had been lying to him, and otherwise acting in all manner of ways that Lex knew Clark would not, could not approve of, and was not comfortable with in the least. (Clark did have limits to his hypocrisy and his forgiveness, after all.) Lex, however, had defaulted to telling Clark selected truths upon request and acting more than reasonable and very forgiving under very trying circumstances.
...Yes, perhaps he ought to take a more active role in breaking them apart, after all. For the first time in their distorted little triangular relationship, Lex had the high ground. Now that he had some leverage, he could accomplish a great deal -- far more than he ever could have before.
Lex pulled himself from his thoughts and refocused on Clark. "Of course, if you don't like this bed, there are plenty of other rooms in the mansion we can choose from." When Clark blinked at him, he shoved himself forward to sit in the middle of the bed next to Clark, who was closer to the edge. Once they were side-by-side with their backs against the headboard, pressed right up against each other, Lex pulled one knee up to his chest and casually added, "So, is there anything I should know about your preferences in pillows or sheets? I can't do much about bed size; they're all rather large." He was only half-joking.
"I--" Clark's expression turned thunderous. "Lex, I can't sleep over here. And you should stop kissing me!"
"Why?" Lex asked calmly, lining up arguments to the contrary.
"Why?" Clark echoed, looking almost affronted. "You-- I can't just--" He stopped, closed his eyes, clenched his jaw, and collected himself. Then he turned to look at Lex again. "Ok. For starters, I can't sleep here because I don't have any clothes here."
"That's easily remedied," Lex cut in, slowly slithering his hand upwards and around Clark's bicep. He felt Clark's muscles jump and twitch and he rubbed his fingers soothingly along Clark's muscles without looking away from his face, as though it was an afterthought, and not a highly calculated move.
"If I need to go home and get things from my room, at home, where Lana is, that's not exactly avoiding her, Lex," Clark pointed out wearily. "You're the one who said I should sleep here to avoid going home and running into her. That would kind of defeat the purpose of the whole thing," Clark ended with a 'so there' tone.
"So? Buy new clothes. You'll need them anyway, for your job," Lex added, stroking Clark's arm.
"What job?" Clark said suspiciously. "I don't need new clothes for farmwork."
Lex gave a long-suffering sigh. "Clark, I bought the Daily Planet a little more than a month ago, and I'm still dealing with a mass exodus of personnel. Given how you practically haunt the building these days, and how much you contribute to Lois's and Chloe's stories as it is, you might as well get paid for it."
Clark stared at him, agog. Had he really thought I hadn't noticed? Lex wondered.
Finally, Clark spoke. "You... you can't do that," he said weakly.
"Clark--"
Clark shook his head angrily. "I'm not taking a job I don't deserve! That's nepotism!"
Lex did not miss the obvious: that Clark's response did not contain an actual 'no'.
He actually wants off the farm, Lex thought weakly, surprised. He hasn't been driving to Metropolis every other day just for Chloe, he's been-- Lex was not about to pass up this golden opportunity -- certainly not when it had practically fallen into his goddamn lap. He pounced.
"Clark, Human Resources has been taking practically anyone who turns in a resume because the job turnover rate's been tremendous, especially for the support staff. Positions are being filled and refilled almost daily, even now." At least for the lower scutwork positions which you'd be eligible for on your own merits, mainly because the paper's prestige has dropped so rapidly. The lower-end workers don't want to work there on the reduced salary while the paper's good reputation is being restored. They aren't patient enough to stay long enough that their resumes will reflect how they benefited from the experience.
"It's that bad?" Clark said, turing to face him full-on. "I mean, I knew that Lois and Chloe were doing their own basic research for articles, but..." He looked vaguely horrified.
Lex nodded. "They're nearly desperate enough to start grabbing people off the street. I've been approached <>twice now about the feasibility of temporarily reassigning LuthorCorp personnel from the main office to help deal with the workload." He ran a hand over his head. "I don't know how long it might be before they call you after you give them an updated resume, but I can't think that they wouldn't call you in within the week."
"Geez," Clark said, scrubbing a hand through his slept-in hair. "I..." He looked over at Lex. "You promise not to interfere with the hiring process if I do? Give them my resume?"
Lex smiled and gently rubbed Clark's arm again. "If you don't want me to, I promise I won't."
"I don't want you to."
"Then I won't interfere." It's not like I'd need to.
Clark looked into Lex's eyes steadily, then the larger part of the tension in him seemed to unwind and Clark collapsed a little as relief filled his eyes. "Ok," Clark said softly, believing him.
Lex smiled, thinking that it was a good thing that he hadn't even felt a need to lie.
He ought to be up front about how realistic his expectations ought to be, though. "I should warn you -- without my interference, you may not get anything higher than a go-fer job or a filing position at first glance, given your lack of a college degree, but they won't turn you away. You'll get a chance," Lex pressed. "But it's just a chance. They'll only keep you if you can do the work." And I know you can. "If you want to go higher, you'll have to work your way up the food chain, the same as everyone else."
Clark nodded in understanding, his eyes dropping to focus distantly, as though he was already thinking ahead towards his future.
"Just remember to make sure that you prominently list your experience at the Torch on your resume," Lex added, fully-serious.
Clark's head snapped up. "Lex! I'm not riding in on Chloe's coattails!" he protested.
"You won't be," Lex said patiently. "Chloe is trying to overcome the reputation she bought herself when she let Lionel's influence overshadow her the first summer she worked there. You wouldn't do yourself any favors asking her for a recommendation," Lex warned, and felt a little gratified at Clark's wince. "...However, while she may have edited the paper, you did help her with a great deal of the work, and you did contribute articles."
"A lot of them were crap," Clark said sourly.
"But some of them were excellent," Lex reminded him. "Look-- just focus on the support aspects; you'll have a better chance of getting in. It's easier to start in the file room and move to reporting from the inside than to be brought in as a reporter at below sea level."
"I'm not sure I even want to be a reporter," Clark said, rolling his eyes.
Well, I'm not about to push you into a profession, certainly not one whose makeup consists solely of individuals I actively despise like no other. "Then it will suit you even better to tailor your resume as I suggest," Lex responded, trailing his fingers down Clark's arm again.
Clark shifted slightly, then made a noise of grumbling acquiescence, and Lex noted that, yes, strategic gentle caresses at key times really did help to shift Clark's mood during an argument to Lex's better advantage. It was quite handy.
And so would be Clark's employment at the Daily Planet. With Clark actually legally working there as an employee, he'd be spending even more time there. He would have contact with Lois and Chloe, certainly, but mostly during work hours, and Lex would know exactly what he was doing, and who with, over the course of the day. The situation would be far more controllable.
And, it occurred to Lex that if Lex was truly lucky, he might even be able to convince Clark of the benefits of sleeping at the Penthouse, instead of making the trek back to Smallville every day -- and wouldn't that make life difficult for Lana? Because if that came to pass, Clark would be spending the majority of his time in either the LuthorCorp Towers or the Daily Planet, both of which Lex owned, and Lana was loathe to set foot on the premises of any of his businesses, as of late.
Clark would be in Metropolis with him, while Lana would be stuck in Smallville with Chloe and Lois, exiled away from them both.
"But... about the kissing."
Oh, wonderful -- we've moved on? No more arguments about not sleeping with me? Lex could have danced a jig, if he'd wanted Clark to know he was up to something.
"Yes? What about the kissing?"
"You shouldn't do that."
"Oh? Why not?" Lex asked as innocently as he could, stroking Clark's arm again.
"It-- It's just--" Clark stopped and turned away, frustrated.
"You seem to like it," Lex said, leaning in slightly. "Are you afraid that that's only because you're drunk?"
Clark went still for a moment, then slowly turned his head back towards Lex, so that Lex was in his peripherial vision -- but not enough to face him, and he didn't raise his eyes.
"Maybe..." Clark said quietly.
That answers that question, Lex thought. He obviously hasn't figured out the 'why' of it yet, if he's perfectly willing to latch on to the first idea he hears like that.
"Well, then. Perhaps we should table this discussion for now, and revisit it at some point when you are neither drunk nor hungover?" Lex supplied reasonably, with a Sphinx-like smile.
Clark blinked at him again, clearly not having expected that maneuver. "Ok," he agreed.
Got you, thought Lex.
"But... but it's a little... weird. To be. With you. --sortof," Clark added, ended in a mumble as he stared down at his hands.
Ugh. "Why is it weird, Clark?"
Clark gave him an 'are-you-shitting-me?' look. "Because... we don't get along anymore! And... you're a guy and... and.... brothers!" he blurted out, only half-coherently.
"Would you like those answered in order?" Lex teased. "Because we seem to be getting along just fine at the moment," -- which probably has something to do with a distinct lack of Lana about, I don't doubt, -- "gender should, quite frankly, be incidental when it comes to love," -- and I can't believe that your Metropolis-born-and-raised mother would have taught you differently when it comes to that sort of tolerance -- "and as for 'brothers'..." Lex drew out the word while he slid his free left hand up behind Clark's neck -- effectively boxing him in again, between the hand Lex had at his right arm and the headboard still at his back.
"Lex--" Clark started to complain. Apparently he'd finally started to pick up on the pattern Lex had been consistent in repeating. Ah good -- he noticed! Clark's level of obliviousness was worrisome, even on the best of days, and Lex had never been good at 'blunt'. Hm. Best change it up a little then, Lex thought, not that he'd planned on kissing Clark again anytime soon.
"Clark, if you'd read any sort of proper translation of the classics, you'd know what most of those 'brothers', blood-related or otherwise, tended to do together."
"Wh-what?"
"Seeking comfort in the arms of one's closest, dearest friend was not uncommon, in those days," Lex slowly explained.
"And, of course, we are not actually blood-brothers," Lex added, turning fully to his right and tugging Clark's arm past his own shoulder. Lex smiled as he pulled Clark towards him and ended up partially leaning up against Clark's wide chest, once he'd completed his neat little maneuver.
"L-Lana!" Clark interjected desperately.
"She's an ex. People are allowed to ignore exes," he told Clark as he made small stroking motions with his fingers at the back of Clark's neck. "It's practically a requirement."
"But--!"
Lex let go of Clark's neck and put a single finger to Clark's lips -- a light touch. "Clark," he soothed, "We are sharing a bed, sleeping together, and only possibly doing more kissing." He had to stifle a laugh at the confused half-pout. "I recommend that we do not overthink this." He let himself smile. "Frankly, I see no reason for either of us to feel obligated to wander about in a depressed fugure state, lamenting lost love, and neither should you."
"But..." Clark said, more softly this time.
Lex reached up and stroked Clark's cheek again. "I'm not going to force you to do something you don't enjoy, Clark. If you don't like something, just say so, and that will be the end of it."
Clark shivered again as Lex gently stroked his cheek once, twice more. His eyes slid shut, almost against his will, and as he still continued to leaned into Lex's touch, he looked almost pained.
"Okay," Clark quietly choked out.
"Okay," Lex agreed, slowly withdrawing, while deep in his heart he gave a dark, final laugh.
Clark made the normal small, murmured niceties to excuse himself, and Lex let him go. For now. (It was no great matter to do so. He'd be back, after all -- soon enough.)
Lex waited until he could no longer hear Clark's footsteps echoing down the hallway, before he slid over to the side of the bed and stood. He went to the window and drew back the curtain.
He watched Clark get into his truck and drive away. It didn't escape Lex's thoughts that Clark must have driven himself here while inebriated the night before.
Lex smirked at the thought of Clark breaking the law with such casual inpunity. (When he had a sudden vision of Clark's truck wrapped around a tree, Lex's smile slipped and he banished the thought as quickly as it had arrived without thinking too much about it.)
He walked over to his dresser and stared into the mirror above it, letting his gaze unfocus.
He thought about Clark's confusion, and how Lex had him in the palm of his hand, now.
Clark wasn't attracted to men -- that much was obvious from his lack of arousal or erection earlier. Oh no, that much was obvious. To Lex. Clark seemed to have no idea of the truth of the matter.
No, it wasn't male attraction -- it had been all about the physical touch.
Lex wasn't much surprised; it made quite a good bit of sense, in retrospect. Clark had always had a rather marked boundary of personal space surrounding him. (Lex would know; he consciously and carefully cultivated his own.) There had been rare occasions when he would give and receive physical comfort -- those hugs, especially -- but they had been so very few and far between. But, oh, how very brightly and incandescently happy he'd seemed when doing so!
Clark was completely starved for physical affection, and had been for years.
He'd let others get close from time to time, but almost never would he let anyone breach that final boundary.
Until now.
Lex thought over the events of the previous night with almost fond amusement. Clark had gotten so drunk that those personal boundaries of his had been thoroughly shot to hell. And then he'd come to Lex. And then he'd violated Lex's boundaries, but let his own be completely ignored in return. For hours.
And now, well after the fact, they'd stayed torn down.
(He wouldn't get the space to build them back up again -- Lex would see to that.)
And the best part of the whole mess? --There was no way for Clark to learn any of this on his own.
Confirmation of his heterosexuality? Clark had no male friends to speak of anymore. (Pete was gone long since, and Oliver hardly counted; both were ragingly homophobic -- no help there.)
Discovery of the unilateral and gender-blind nature of his reaction to physical touch? Clark wasn't about to let Lana get close again anytime soon, physically or otherwise -- not unless Lex had grossly misread him. Chloe was dating Jimmy, and there was already enough tension between he and Clark that Chloe wouldn't dare voice the thought -- not when she'd be risking her own relationship.
...And Lois? Laughable. Clark's antipathy towards her would preclude any such happenstance. And, even if Chloe managed to arrange such a thing between Clark and Lois, neither would be happy about it, neither would take it seriously, and Clark's perception and reactions would be strongly colored by that alone (...not that Lex thought the General's eldest daughter even capable of being gentle.)
And all this, of course, was dependent on Clark himself being comfortable enough with his friends to openly discuss what had occurred between them in the last few hours. Which Lex highly doubted Clark was wont to do.
Lex refocused on the here and now, looking down and setting his hands on the flat, cool wooden surface of the dresser. He leaned forward, bracing himself on his fingertips as he looked back up at himself in the mirror... and his smile slowly morphed into a grin, mean and shark-like.
Because Clark was his for the duration.
He could not wait to see the look on Lana's face.
It really was too bad that he didn't find men sexually attractive -- that could have added a whole new layer to the game and kept Lana guessing. As things stood now, Lana would know better, know exactly what he was doing. (He doubted Clark would listen to her, the way things stood between them. After all, Lana had hurt him deeply and Lex... wouldn't lie. And with Clark not wanting more than he'd been given already, and Lex being willing to keep giving the rest of what little Clark now expected of him... Clark had never been exposed to the idea of someone lying with their body so intimately. He'd never suspect the unvoiced truth.)
All-in-all, Lex supposed it could have been worse -- it was a lucky thing, in fact, that he didn't find Clark's kisses completely repellant, as he'd first feared he might. He'd always had a hell of a time hiding disgust when it reared its ugly head, but it didn't look like that would be a problem here. As for his own needs... well, at least he could find some comfort in Clark's reactions -- Lex had almost enjoyed the feeling he'd gotten when he'd discovered exactly how easily he could manipulate Clark with close physical contact, and how very thoroughly self-debasing Clark's responses were.
This was going to be interesting. It would certainly get Lana's attention.
He might not have been able to keep Lana from Clark, but to keep Clark from Lana?
Lex tilted his head back and laughed, loud and long.
~*~*~*~*~*~
AN2: Next in the series is here.