SV fic: WHEN I WAS LOST
4
Lex had yet to make good on a promise to take Clark to the Metropolis Museum, so one lovely afternoon Clark took himself, totally ignoring Lex's sputtering indignation when Clark called his office to tell him that. He smiled to himself, listening to Lex's dire threats slowly shift to Lex wishing him a good afternoon and recommending a good place for lunch…Clark knew the call would end like that-there was a possibility that Lex was incapable of refusing Clark much-not that Clark ever planned to use that power for anything but good. After all, it made Lex happy to make Clark happy. He disconnected with a smile, and took a moment to look up to the marble façade of MetMuseum. It was a beautiful building, built of stone and marble and polished bronze, vaguely reminiscent of a Greek temple, or some 19th century architect's idea of one. He'd imagined the museum must be magical when he'd only been a boy whose horizons stretched from the back forty to the railroad trestles at the edge of town. Clark took a deep breath, trotted up the stairs. He was still thinking about Lex, how he'd never have been able to concentrate on the exhibits if Lex had come with. There was nothing worth looking at besides Lex when he was in the room…Clark laughed. God, when had he turned into such a sap?
cLc
Clark wandered through the Egyptian exhibit, imaging in what dimly lit part of it he could have gone down on Lex, strolled through the reproduction French chapel, circa 1600, thinking that he could have secretly fucked him right behind the ancient stone pews….
He was just about at the point of declaring the visit a lost cause because all he could think of was Lex, Lex, Lex. Deciding to give it one more try, he took the wide stairway up to the Contemporary Art collection, specifically the gallery devoted to Metropolis born and bred artists.
Clark was standing in front of a canvas twice as wide as he was tall, and staring--hard. Squinted his eyes and stared some more. He looked at the guide book, and looked back up at the painting and wondered, just where were the cows that supposedly the painting was about? He tilted his head this way and that but the seemingly random streaks and splotches of paint refused to become cows. There was a dry cough behind him and Clark turned.
"Still wearing it, I see. Good. I'm touched."
"I…I don't wear it in remembrance of you. I wear it because it's part of the uniform. Claude." Clark inclined his head in greeting but truth to tell, he was less than pleased to see Claude here. His heart beat a little faster; his breath came a little quicker. He was almost horrified to realize that, while he wasn't exactly hard, it wouldn't take much.
"Clark…leave with me. Come have a drink, please. The museum restaurant is decent, nice enough to sit a bit and…talk." Claude moved closer. "It's safe, exposed…you don't have to worry about forgetting yourself."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Unless you want to-to lose control. You want to come with me, I can see it. Let me help you, let me make you beautiful again, Clark, let me take care of you." Claude's voice was low and smooth and hypnotic and Clark had no idea his eyes had closed, or that he swayed towards Claude, tongue sweeping over paper dry lips and his heart beating double time. His fingers twisted and turned the bracelet.
"Can't. I can't. Lex will-he has-exclusive contract. An exclusive contract for the year. I've got. Months yet. Months." He barely heard the words spill out of his mouth; he was so caught up in warring emotions. His heart wanted forever, wished for always having Lex, but he hadn't been fool enough to dream like that in a very, very long time. His body had been trained to want whatever Claude offered….
Claude leaned into Clark, the heat of his breath burning Clark's cheek. "Just. One. Glass. Nothing else. I promise you, Clark. Nothing you don't want."
Blood swept hot through Clark's body, filled his dick. He shuddered, remembering the pain, the pleasure-thoughts of pleasure brought a clear image of Lex to his mind, Lex's eyes, his mouth curved in a small, sardonic smile-Clark's eyes flew open. He straightened, pulled away from Claude and very clearly, firmly, said, "No. I'm very sorry. I told you once that I wouldn't be contracting with you again and I meant it. Good bye."
Claude stood aside without a word as Clark strode past him, holding his head high. He felt Claude's eyes on his back the entire way out of the gallery.
cLc
Change continued but slowly, still it was steady, constant and growing. Clark liked the direction it was headed, the way Lex talked to him-not just 'how was your day, what did you do, what's for dinner' but about what moved him, concerned him, puzzled him. Clark was altogether too happy to listen, and more than that, comment, critique, advise. And what was more amazing was this: Lex listened. Lex opened himself to Clark, and the more he did, the more Clark wanted to tell Lex, "Listen, this thing you think you know about me, well, here it is-I'm not really human anymore, haven't been for a long time, I'm not really sure how, or when, but one day I was an average fourteen year old kid and the next, some kind of…creature…that couldn't be hurt. Except by this one, weird thing."
It weighed him down, this desire to open himself to one other person, no-to Lex. But…there was something holding him back, something he didn't really understand. It wasn't Lex, it was himself. He just didn't know why.
cLc
"Listen; let's go out to dinner tonight." Lex dropped his briefcase next to the counter Clark was leaning against and snagged the apple Clark was about to take a bite from. He bit into the light green skin, and handed it back to Clark with a smirk when Clark grimaced.
"Let's talk about you eating breakfast first," Clark said and brushed him off when Lex went for his apple again. "Real breakfast, Cook made you an egg and I think, some toast." Clark bit right over where Lex had and smirked at him.
"Oh, fine-" Lex huffed, and wolfed down an egg and a slice of toast with ill grace, avoiding Cook's steely gaze. "There, are you two control freaks satisfied now?" Cook snorted and pushed a travel-mug of coffee towards him. Lex snatched it up, balanced mug and coat and briefcase and said, "So, Clark, do you think…dinner, maybe a movie?"
"I've got a better idea, let me cook for you."
Lex froze in the middle of trying to put his coat on without putting down mug and briefcase, turned his head to stare at Clark. Cook flinched away from the fridge and fixed Clark with a startled look. They both had a look of horrified fascination on their faces.
'Oh my god," Clark said, "It's not like you don't know I can cook, you know I can," he snapped and leveled a glare at Cook.
"Cheese sandwiches and tomato soup is not cooking." She did go on to grudgingly admit, "I suppose you make a decent fried chicken." Which Clark knew in Cook-speak meant that his chicken was only second to hers. He beamed when she whipped a short smile at him before donning the stone-face and sweeping out of the kitchen.
"What?" Clark laughed at Lex's expression of complete shock.
"She smiled at you--She never smiles at me! What the hell have you done to my cook?" Lex demanded. "And what if you give me food-poisoning?"
Lex." Clark rolled his eyes and nudged him towards the door. "Get the hell out and go to work, already."
Lex mock-glared at him. He hefted his briefcase and stalked out the door, breaking into a satisfied smile the minute he thought Clark couldn't see him, but Cook kept the stainless steel appliances gleaming like mirrors….
cLc
He set the table, and for laughs set it with the best linen, flowers, and candles. Delicate porcelain plates held cheese sandwiches but Clark thought Gruyere and parmesan, bacon and thin slices of yellow heirloom tomatoes would make them more appealing to Lex than just grilled white bread and orange American sort-of-cheese-anyway that's what he hoped. He'd just popped a Pino Gris he thought would go well with snooty grilled cheese sandwiches in the chiller when he heard the apartment door open. Clark whipped off the towel he was using as an apron and wiped his hands, quickly tossed it into the pantry and turned to face-excruciating pain. Pain so overwhelming he dropped in his tracks.
"Clark…you should have come when I asked. Remember when I said you were a pretty puzzle? Well…I've found some pieces…."
cLc
Clark felt dizzy, a little sick to his stomach. He couldn't remember what he'd eaten the night before-maybe it was one of Mom's forays into the world of gourmet cooking, those experiments of hers never seemed to work out very well for his stomach…he licked at sticky lips and opened his eyes, blinked a few times trying to bring things in focus. His bedroom looked weird, too dark and too big…"Mom?" He knew the minute he spoke that his mother was never coming for him again-for a brief, blazing second, he felt the grief all over again before he was in the here and now. He became aware of dull pain pounding at the bridge of his nose, a mallet between the eyes. His vision cleared, sharpened. He knew where he was, he recognized this place. He didn't know whether to laugh, or to scream.
He was naked; he was lying on a hard bed, held in the restraints at the head and foot of it. For a moment he thought he was lost in a memory. There was something painful strapped around his neck, and he felt so very, very tired, too tired to move.
cLc
"Welcome home, Clark." Clark jerked towards the sound of Claude's voice. Claude strolled out of the shadows, a small smile pulling the corners of his mouth tight. He was carrying a dark grey box. "Since your defection, I've thought about you and your gift, and I wondered…was it possible the creation of a thing as amazing as you happened only once? Well, it didn't seem likely, I thought. So, I gathered what information I was sure of and began looking for anything that pointed back to you. You were too easy to find but nothing in your history was interesting…if there was anything important about you that stood out it was-" Claude waved his hands, "spirited away. So if I couldn't find clues in your history, then the next step was to discover anything unique to you. And that would be--" He stroked what Clark had realized was a collar strapped around his neck, tapped at something attached to it. "--this. This crystal is unlike anything anyone's ever seen. It looks ordinary enough. Ugly in its natural state, but polished, and worn by you…it becomes a thing of beauty, as if its true nature is revealed just by being close to you." He held up a knife, the edge of which glowed faintly green, twirled it in his fingers. "We know a bit about it, what it can do, don't we? And no one noticed, not any other of your clients, not even your dear friend Eric. Well, Eric isn't exactly a contemplative sort, is he?"
Clark watched the knife twirl in Claude's fingers. "It's just a stone, it's not important," Clark started and Claude laughed.
"There are few places on earth where this unimportant crystal can be found, at least in amounts that make it noticeable. A few places in Russia, in France and in the United States-Smallville, Kansas, to be precise. Your birthplace, Clark." He walked closer. "In our too short time together, I noticed things. That you healed so very fast from wounds that I don't think you even knew you weren't supposed to heal from. At least, not the way you did." He tapped the stone set in the collar, traced his fingers down Clark's chest. "I enjoyed that part of our relationship. It was good for you, and good for me." Claude lifted the crystal knife.
"No," Clark shouted, "don't-" and screamed. The pain in his chest was a white-hot spear, radiating outwards from the point the knife plunged in. Blood spurt, flowed over his skin, flooded the table. Clark dropped into a deep well of pain and then came the abrupt cessation of agony, so sudden and complete, it was almost as shattering as the pain had been. The underlying constant ache he'd woken up with was all he felt….
Claude leaned into Clark's face. He whispered, "The knife's shut up in the metal box. All you're feeling now is the stone on the collar…" He ran his hand over Clark's rapidly healing chest, down his stomach, stroked over his dick. "Did you know that lead, apparently, blocks the effects of this stone?" He took in Clark's blank look. "You didn't, did you? It was coincidence you'd chosen this particular metal? Fortuitous. Or…fate." He smiled at Clark. "Tell me, Clark, did you know you couldn't die?"
Clark shook his head, "No, no, I-I'm just a guy, just-"
"Not human, sorry to say." Claude said. "Not anymore-but you must have suspected that. What I did learn about Smallville and the people who lived there was this thing, this stone, mutates you, takes what makes you human away. And that leads to the end of your story Clark. You're mine now, completely. I could argue that since you're not human, you have even less rights, less value, than a whore. You're in my hands Clark. You're a thing I own. And I don't give my things up easily."
Clark dropped his head to the table top, the room around him shimmering and fading. Was this really happening? What was Claude thinking? If he could make Claude see that this was crazy, if he could just get Claude to listen, he'd realize…Clark would offer to break his contract with Lex, or get Eric to talk to Claude, yeah, Eric would fix it. He groaned and jerked against the restraints. A full body cramp swept him, stronger than his normal reaction to the crystal. He twisted his head to the side and saw Claude smiling at him, the open box in his hands. He set the box down at the foot of the bed, reached inside the box and held up a sparkling green razor. "This stone is remarkable. The way it can be shaped, the way it holds an edge…let's try this one. I've always preferred a razor over a knife."
"Oh god, no. Claude, you don't understand-I don't understand."
"Please, Clark, don't worry. I'll help you. I'll make it all clear to you."
cLc
Clark wasn't sure if his eyes were open or not. He was afraid to check. There was no part of him that didn't hurt, and hurt was a weak word to describe what Claude had made him feel. Claude…Clark's head spun, his stomach clenched. He felt his skin knit up again, a feeling that had become familiar to him for the last day or two. He thought about Lex, wanted him near. Thought about Eric, was terrified Eric would blame himself. It was no one's fault. No, it was his own fault.
Claude had finally made him understand. He understood how worthless sacrificing himself for the guilt he felt over his parents had been. He'd wasted his life, wasted this gift Claude insisted he had. He could have been doing…god, something his parents would have been proud of, something good and worthy of Jonathan Kent's name. His life had been empty and wrong but more than that, selfish, and this year with Lex, more selfish still. Tears leaked out from under Clark's tightly shut eyelids, running pink over his pale cheeks. A waste, a waste…why hadn't anyone told him? Why hadn't anyone cared enough? "…why didn't anyone care?"
"I care, Clark. Trust me; I care enough for both of us." Claude leaned over him, stroking his cheek with a small triangular-bladed knife. "Your home town has changed, you know. They rebuilt most of it. And most of the people stayed, some against their will. A girl who lived on the fat of others, a boy who stole heat for his own, one could change shape to whoever you wanted, one who lives in a bubble of time…your Lex knows some of this. He would have found out about you sooner or later and put you in a cage, just like the mutants. I saved you from that-"
Clark jerked, and felt the skin over his cheekbone split and fire rush up his nerves. "No."
"You keep saying no, but it's all true. More or less. Lex is, uhm, let's call it in thrall--to his father. Lionel Luthor has Smallville in his bony claw of a fist. He knows. Not about you, never about you, I'll keep you. I love you. Lex never will, he just wants your cock, your mouth…I want your soul." He laid down the knife and picked the razor up again. "Ready for more truth?"
The razor cut through the air and Clark wished that Claude would just let him die, he should have made Claude kill him long ago, he should have, he-
There was a small sound, a click like a lock coming undone and Clark held his breath. There was something, something soothing in the air, Claude had just begun to turn towards that small sound. Before he completed the turn his eyes opened impossibly wide, he sighed around a mouthful of blood and dropped out of Clark's sight. Clark went wild fighting against the restraints, Claude's death reawakening a desire to live--a warm hand landed on his chest, tugged at his throat and the collar was gone, along with most of the pain.
"Clark, oh, I knew you didn't leave. I knew you wouldn't, not like that…Clark?" Clark opened his eyes, blinking to clear them and warm liquid fell on his cheek, his neck, burning the open wounds but Clark took it, he wanted it, it was cleansing him, releasing him from Claude, Lex's tears were cleaning him. He didn't know he was babbling all that out loud until Lex shushed him.
"Stop, you make me sound like a saint, and God knows there's nothing saint-like about me. Be still, all right, quiet now, let me get you loose-no, let me move this shit away from you." Lex swept the collar and tools into the lead box and pitched the box across the room, with a curse. Clark took a deep breath and ripped the cuffs away from the table, ripped them off his wrists and feet. He leaped off the table, stood heaving great breaths in and out. He felt ready to snap, must look it, judging by the wide-eyed look Lex gave him. Lex stepped back a few paces and Clark felt a twinge of sadness at that but then…he felt a boiling wave of anger sweep through him-he turned and raised his fists and battered the table into a million, million splinters.
When he was done, Lex wrapped a hand around Clark's wrist and squeezed. It pierced Clark's heart in a not altogether bad way how Lex worked to keep his smile warm and confident even as his hands shook, wrapping a blanket around Clark's shoulders. "Let's get out of here."
"But…Claude…."
"Is very, very dead. And in a few minutes, there's going to be an explosion and fire that will destroy this place, in fact, as soon as we leave. It will be someone else's problem after that."
Clark blinked, just noticing the buzz of activity around him, men dressed like Satan's swat team were going through Claude's things, ripping out pieces of equipment, boxing things up-it reminded Clark of an anthill after the stick. "You killed him."
Lex shrugged. "He would have killed you. Or worse. I can't feel sorry for that."
Clark stared at Claude and after a while, he shook his head. "You can't do that. Ever again. No matter what."
"What the fuck, you're a boy scout all of a sudden?"
Lex stared at Clark, defiance in his eyes, daring Clark to argue. Clark shook his head, fought off a shudder. "Let's just-let's just leave."
As they got to the street, the building, a warehouse supposedly in the process of rehab, burst into flames. "Gas main," Lex tsked, "Old buildings, poor wiring, uncertain pipes…shame, but it happens." Clark looked at Lex, not entirely certain what to think, after what Claude had said, after everything.
Lex took his elbow and said, "I came for you, Clark. There was nothing else I could do, I couldn't-I had to come." Clark closed his eyes and as soon as his eyes were closed, Lex said, "I love you Clark," and Clark let the dark roll over him.
cLc
As per usual after an emotional upheaval, Lex disappeared. No surprise to Clark of course, it's what he had expected. He appreciated the chance to breathe and think a little himself, but in the end he really only had one choice. He generously gave Lex a few more days. When Clark was sure Lex had had sufficient time to get over the shock of having told Clark he loved him, Clark went after him.
He took his time getting dressed, for fun chose the suit he'd worn to come and give Lex lunch-time head all those months ago. This time he breezed through Lexcorp's lobby, met every curious eye with a huge smile, and got a few tentative smiles in return. He knew exactly what they were thinking--Clark wouldn't be the first whore to move up the ladder and it never hurt to curry a little favor, just in case...
Lex's secretary didn't get a chance to say anything before Clark breezed past her with a smirk and a cheery wave and let himself into Lex's office.
Lex looked up, startled. "Clark! You have to-just--go back to the apartment, please. I'll be there tonight. I'll talk to you then, promise."
Clark shook his head and shut the doors to Lex's office. "That's not going to work for me."
"What? Why-do you not get the part that says I'm the boss here? That I am in fact the boss of you? That means you're supposed to do what I say." He threw his hands up, "Is there ever going to be a time that's going to happen?" he growled, frustration coloring his words.
"No," Clark shrugged, "and anyway, I do everything you say. Except of course the stupid things." He took off the jacket and the tie, unbuttoned the collar of the shirt, kicked off his shoes and dropped onto the couch, stocking feet crossed over each other. He snagged a magazine and gave Lex a look. Lifted one eyebrow in a move he'd stolen from Eric and said, "Go. Work."
Lex stared at him, his mouth working in a way that reminded Clark of guppies. He glared, tried to smother a grin--Clark thought it was cute that Lex thought he could hide that from him. "Slave driver," Lex said and Clark snorted, opened the magazine and ignored Lex. He heard Lex walk back to his desk, and didn't miss his rather satisfied little sigh. Clark smiled to himself.
After a quiet hour, Clark figured it was time. "Lex," he said, "I think it's better if we talk now, before we go home."
Lex jerked a little guiltily and flushed, his cheeks going a hot pink. He stood, walked away from the desk, his arms hanging awkwardly at his sides, his mouth working. He jammed his fists into his pockets and tried again. "So. I know-I knew, but not about you. I suspected but kept it to myself because…I was afraid my dad would find you and then this, this would be over. And I couldn't live with that-without you." He shrugged. "I've decided to take my dad's project over, like he's been hounding me to. It's the only way to protect those poor fucked up creatures--"
"People, Lex. Like me."
"I know that, Clark. I know they're people, I know that what’s happened to them isn't their fault but Clark-they're not like you. Unless you're going to change and I don’t think you are, you're unique in not hurting anyone else. Clark, the only person you've hurt since you were infected or mutated is yourself. I wonder…" Lex sighed, went back around his desk. "Now, that means I'm going to have to move to Smallville, which is pretty much the asscrack of the world, so I thought we should renegotiate our contract-"
"What? You want to what?"
"Change the terms of our contract." He lifted a folder from the desk. "Now I've changed some aspects to make up for moving -"
"No. I want to break the contract now. I want out." Clark felt a stab of guilt at Lex's stricken expression, the way he went bright red and then moon pale.
"I-I--" Lex babbled, "--but why? I thought, I want-"
"You're completely blind. You love me. I love you. I want to be with you, but not as your toy, I want to be with you as lovers, friends, people who want to be together. Always. Idiot."
"Clark, will you come with me to Smallville?"
Clark looked at Lex thoughtfully. "Well, I've been thinking-I want to finish school, and maybe college, and discover what it is I want to do with the rest of my life…" Clark finished a little doubtfully because maybe Lex didn't want a lover; maybe he only ever had wanted a whore….
Lex looked like Clark had stabbed him-and then pulled a smile out of someplace that must have hurt him. Clark couldn't stand it; he flew to Lex and wrapped him up in his long arms. "Lex, not now, okay. But someday soon, I want to get back some of the life I wasted. I was lost for so long, and-and-I just want to find myself again." He leaned back to look at Lex, curled a hand behind Lex's neck and coaxed him closer. Clark whispered into Lex's cheek, "In case you're not sure, that means yes, I want to go with you, yes, I want you. No contract, no terms-I just need to be with you."
Lex swallowed hard. "Thank you. I would love to be a part of your new life. I want to watch you grow into your own man, Clark. I need to see that."
"All right then. First, Smallville and then-the world." Clark rested his chin Lex's shoulder and closed his eyes, lost in everything that made Lex, Lex. He heard Lex laugh, and sighed. He wasn't as lost as he had been. He felt like he'd finally found a place to call home.
12-5-2011