Voyeur

Clark/Lex
Season 7, "Fracture"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Screencap from SVFan.

"I always knew there was a voyeur lurking behind that telescope."

Clark gave a startled gasp as someone grabbed his shoulder from behind, spinning him around. In reality, he was superstrong, and no one could manhandle him.

But he wasn't in reality. He was in Lex Luthor's mind, creeping around the labyrinthine corridors of his subconscious, and here, Lex was in charge.

He stared into Lex's angry eyes, and tried for a placating tone. "I don't want any trouble, Lex."

Lex grabbed him by both shoulders, hauling him forward and glaring at him. Clark looked into the familiar gray eyes, eyes of rain and cloud and shadow, and felt the same regret he'd felt many times for his lost friend.

No. If he was going to be honest with himself, when he'd lost Lex, he'd lost a lot more than just friendship.

Clark had met the younger, more innocent part of Lex earlier, as he wandered around Lex's subconscious. He missed that part of Lex, the part that was caring and unsullied and good, but he missed his older, cynical, jaded friend, too.

The truth was that he missed all of Lex's shaded, shadowed complexity. He missed the sweet moments of friendship, playing pool and laughing together, but in a weird way, he missed Lex's constant maneuvering and manipulation just as much.

He simply missed Lex, so much that it hurt.

"Forgive me," Lex snarled, right in his face. "I've been a terrible host."

They'd been standing in a shadowed, metal-walled corridor, but now the scene around them shifted, dreamlike, and Clark found himself standing in a bedroom he recognized all two well. The room was dark, lit only by a crackling fire, and two figures were sprawled on the massive sleigh bed that dominated the room.

Clark stared, recognizing Lex's bald head resting on the pillow. Over Lex leaned a large, dark-haired figure.

Himself.

He really didn't need to watch this memory to know how it turned out. He already knew. Two years ago, he'd given into his deepest, darkest desires one night, given his body to Lex, bared his soul to him.

And the next morning Lex had told him exactly what projects LuthorCorp was currently involved in, exactly what LuthorCorp was doing to meteor freaks, and everything between them had gone to hell.

Whether Lex had been trying to come clean with him, or push him away, he had no idea. But faced with the full disclosure of what Lex was doing, Clark hadn't had any choice. He'd walked out of the Luthor mansion, and never looked back.

He didn't want to look back. He didn't want to remember. He tried to turn his head away, but Lex caught his head between his hands, forcing him to watch the dream as it unfolded.

"Wait," he said between his teeth. "It's just getting good."

The dream Clark ran his hands slowly up Lex's chest. He was on top, in charge, and there was no pretending that he hadn't been a willing participant. His bare chest gleamed with sweat in the firelight, and there was an expression on his face that Clark had no difficulty recognizing as desire.

And then his dream self was kissing Lex's chest, his mouth and tongue caressing every inch of exposed skin, and Clark shivered despite himself. He couldn't help remembering the musky, sexual taste of Lex's skin, the way his flesh had felt beneath Clark's mouth, warm and soft and smooth...

"You still wish you could have me." Lex was speaking in his ear, his voice equal parts anger and seduction. "Even knowing what you do about me, part of you still wants me."

"No," Clark answered, but the word lacked conviction. Lex wasn't holding him firmly anymore, and he could have looked away, but the truth was, he didn't want to. He couldn't.

The sight of Lex's hands on his bare back, stroking and exploring... the sight of Lex's mouth against his throat, kissing hungrily...

"Just as I said earlier," Lex whispered in his ear. "A voyeur."

The dream version of Lex was peeling off the other Clark's jeans now, pushing his boxers off, and the dream Clark rolled back onto the mattress, submitting to his lover. Lex leaned over him, taking his cock into his hand, and began to stroke it.

The dream Clark closed his eyes and arched his head back and made a sound that Clark was embarrassed to realize had ever come out of his own throat, a sound of need and pleasure and sheer, pure want. Clark could hardly hold back his own moan.

Oh, God. He was just as hard as the dream Clark. He couldn't help it, couldn't control himself. His cock was fiercely erect in his jeans, and need pounded through him with every beat of his heart. He heard his own breath coming in short, rasping pants.

"That night was good," Lex whispered in his ear. "The best sex you ever had. Better than anything you've ever done with Lana."

Clark couldn't deny it. The dream Clark was writhing against the sheets now, helpless against Lex's touch, and Clark's cock pulsed urgently in his jeans. He thought he might come when his dream self did, and the idea embarrassed him at the same time it turned him on.

He so needed to get out of here, to run back into the dark, empty corridors of Lex's mind.

He tried to move away, but Lex held his shoulder in an irresistible grip. With the other hand, he reached down and began to caress Clark through his jeans.

Clark's knees instantly went weak, and he struggled to choke back that same sound of need he'd heard his dream self made. Lex's hand squeezed him lightly, then began to stroke up and down, sending bolts of pleasure sizzling through him like summer lightning.

"Watch," he whispered.

Clark couldn't help himself. He watched.

He saw the other Lex moving down dream Clark's body, licking at his cock, then sucking it into his mouth. The other Clark arched and sobbed, and a long stream of expletives came out of his mouth. Fuck fuck fuck...

He watched the other Lex drawing him in deeper, his mouth moving harder and faster, and all the while Lex's hand moved on his cock, stroking relentlessly, in a smooth, steady rhythm that drove him closer and closer to orgasm.

God, he'd missed this, missed Lex's touch, more than he'd ever let himself admit. None of this was real, at least not physically, but it felt real. It felt so damn good he could hardly bear it.

He could feel his cock jerking, and he knew Lex could feel the involuntary responses too. He realized Lex could tell just how affected he was, just how much he was turned on by the memory of this night, how much he wanted Lex, deep down...

Before he'd agreed to undergo this procedure, he'd been told that Lex wouldn't remember anything that happened, that he would never know that Clark had been inside his mind. Part of Clark was grateful for that, grateful that Lex would never know he'd given into his own weakness so damn easily.

But part of him grieved that Lex wouldn't even remember touching him this way, and that Lex wouldn't remember the way he'd responded.

The Clark on the bed was twisting helplessly now, his face distorted in a mask of ecstasy, long, high-pitched wails of pleasure coming from his throat. It was obvious he was about to come. But just before he came, dream Lex released him, and he fell back against the sheets, gasping for breath, his skin slick with sweat.

Lex slowed the motion of his hand. "You know what happens next," he said in Clark's ear, very softly. "And you want to watch, don't you?"

Clark found himself shivering convulsively, caught in the grip of a fierce desire. In the real world, he knew he couldn't have Lex. No matter how much he wanted him, he couldn't ever let Lex touch him again.

But here, inside Lex's mind, lost in a maze of dark, delicious memories... he could have everything he wanted most. Everything he craved.

The Lex on the bed leaned over Clark, bearing his weight on one hand, and began slicking his cock with lube until it glistened in the firelight. Dream Clark watched, licking his lips, and Clark knew he was licking his own lips, too. He remembered this moment, remembered every last detail, remembered exactly how it had felt to take Lex's body inside his own...

Dream Lex slid a finger inside of the man beneath him, and the dream Clark jerked and yelped, sounding startled. Clark remembered that, too. He'd never been with a man before, and the sensation had caught him by surprise. It had been shocking, and yet incredibly pleasurable, spiced with novelty and the thrill of the forbidden.

He saw Lex add a second finger, and the other him sighed and moaned. Dream Lex began finger fucking his lover, his hand moving hard inside him, and Clark heard his own voice, high-pitched and incoherent and desperate.

Oh, God, Lex, oh, God, oh yes...

His own cock swelled in his jeans, twitching and spasming, and Lex's hand moved a little harder, and he could hardly hold back his orgasm. But he struggled to hold it back, because he wanted to watch. He wanted to see the end of this.

The Lex on the bed withdrew his fingers, then pushed Clark's knees up and apart. And then he was leaning over Clark, holding his own cock, guiding it into dream Clark's body, and Clark watched as his other self cried out in startled pleasure and undeniable need.

The other Lex lowered his head, kissing Clark's throat, and Clark heard his own voice, whispering words softly and sincerely into Lex's ear.

"I love you, Lex. I'll always love you."

And then the two dream figures were moving hard, making love frantically, and Clark heard Lex whispering in his ear.

"Remember that, Clark?" His hand moved harder on Clark, driving him higher and higher. "You'll always love me."

Clark couldn't deny it. He didn't even try to deny it. He leaned back against Lex, panting, his hips thrusting helplessly against Lex's hand, as he watched the two men on the bed making love to each other with a fierce passion and a very clear affection.

The two men made love for long moments, their cries growing louder. At last Clark saw the other Clark's cock twitching hard, and come exploded all over his abdomen as his body shuddered violently.

He remembered that moment, the fierce rapture of it, the terrible, overwhelming ecstasy. The deepest, most intense pleasure he'd ever experienced in his lifetime.

Lex's hand stroked him harder than ever, and he couldn't hold himself back an instant longer. He couldn't resist what Lex offered. He cried out as he erupted in a climax, his cock jerking in spasm after spasm, while the other Clark writhed and wailed on the bed as Lex fucked him.

Ah, Jesus, yes...

It seemed impossible that anything could feel this good. Since this night, he'd dreamed of making love to Lex over and over again, but he knew he couldn't.

No matter how much he wanted Lex, he could never have him again.

But God, he missed Lex. He missed making love to Lex. He'd only made love to him one night, but he missed the smell of him and the taste of him and the sound of his voice. He missed the touch of his hands and the feel of his lips against his skin.

He missed Lex so much that it felt like part of his soul was missing. Lex had taken it with him this night, and Clark knew he would never, ever get it back.

His orgasm subsided, and he drew in deep, shuddering breaths, his body shivering all over, weak with pleasure. On the bed, Lex had collapsed onto the other Clark's chest. Their arms were wrapped around each other, and they looked happy and content, like two people who'd finally figured out they were meant for one another.

If only, Clark thought, that had been the case.

But instead of being lovers forever, they'd wound up as enemies.

He stared at the entangled couple on the bed, sorrow and loss and pain churning inside him all over again. He'd thought he'd put it all behind him, that he'd learned to move on, but he now realized he'd never be able to put it entirely behind him.

His night with Lex had meant too damn much to him.

If only, he thought again, sorrowfully. If only if only if only... If only Lex were someone else. If only he were someone else. If only Lex had been willing to give up his experiments. If only he'd been willing to overlook them...

The list of if onlies was endless, but he knew it was also fruitless. He was who he was, and Lex was who he was, and there could be no going back.

Even so... he looked at the naked bodies entwined on the bed, boneless and satiated and content, and sighed. At least, he thought, he'd had that one perfect night with Lex.

One night might not be a lot, but it was more than some people ever got with the person they loved most.

He shook himself loose from Lex's hold and turned to face the other man. Lex stared back at him. Anger still flared in his eyes, but there was something else there, too. Clark thought it might be longing.

"Don't forget, Clark," he said, very softly. "Don't forget."

Clark looked back at the sated, intertwined bodies on the bed, and then back into the face of the man who had once been his best friend, and the man he'd loved. The man he still loved.

The man he'd always love.

He moved toward the door, but spoke over his shoulder as he stepped out into the metal-walled corridor.

"Don't worry," he answered softly. "I'll never forget."

He walked away, looking for the information he'd come here to find, but the memory of his own words rang in his ears, haunting him. He knew they'd haunt him forever, because they were so painfully, terribly true.

I love you, Lex. I'll always love you.

-The End-