Clark/Lex angst, futurefic
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Read Chapter 1 here.
Read the story from the beginning here.
Ten years earlier
SUPERMAN IS DEAD.
Lex looked at the headline, feeling a strange mixture of emotions tangling in his chest. He'd long ago grown tired of Clark blaming him for every single thing that went wrong in Metropolis. He and Clark had once been friends, but their friendship had gone wrong a very long time ago.
And yet, somewhere in his heart, Clark was still the Kansas farmboy with the bright, flashing smile, the boy who'd been willing to stand up to his parents for Lex's sake, the boy who'd kissed him shyly one night, and seduced him, and brought about the most beautiful three months of Lex's life.
It wasn't just Superman who'd died. It was that bright, happy young man. It was Lex's memories of a happier time.
And so as he looked at the headline, it blurred, and his tears fell onto the paper.
"You are mine," he whispered now.
The midnight wings quivered, and the beautiful face he remembered grew remote, stony, with a cold, hard rage.
You cannot hold me here.
"I can hold you for as long as I like," Lex responded, his voice as soft and nonthreatening as he could make it. He ran a finger down the center of Clark's chest. Clark's body quivered just as his wings did. "As long as you wear the bonds, you must remain here."
It was, he knew, cruelty. It was a terrible echo of what had gone before, so long ago. And yet, there was no way he could let Clark go.
Because if he did, he would never see him again.
"No, Clark." Lex ran his finger lower, down the dark trail of hair that bisected Clark's abdomen. "I'm never letting you go again."
Five years earlier
"Mr. Luthor." The scientist's voice was weary, the voice of a man struggling for patience in the face of madness. "You have spent millions of dollars on this project, without a single positive result to show. Surely you can see we must give up this idea. It's an interesting notion, but that is all it is. We have no facts to support it whatsoever."
"No." Lex knew that he sounded precisely like the madman the scientist believed him to be. "I won't give up, damn it. I won't. This will work."
"But Mr. Luthor--"
"Keep trying." Lex pointed a finger at the man, glaring. "Keep trying, damn it!"
The scientist looked at him a long moment, then, slowly, shrugged. Lex could almost see the words in his eyes: It's your money, sucker.
"As you wish, Mr. Luthor."
"I've waited for this for a long time."
Lex's finger trailed down over Clark's abdomen. An inch or two beneath his finger, Clark's cock swelled, darkening, as if Clark's corporeal body still pulsed with blood, as it had when he was alive. Lex wasn't sure what animated Clark's body, but he was reasonably certain it wasn't blood.
Leave me alone.
The voice was less commanding now, less strident. It sounded almost... uncertain. Lex smiled to himself.
"You don't really want me to leave you now," he said softly. "You want this."
No. Let me go back to my existence.
"Go back to an existence without a body? Without sensations? Without... love?"
The plane on which I now exist is full of love.
"Perhaps," Lex said, stroking his finger a little lower. Clark's erection quivered. "But not earthy human love. Not physical love."
No. I have grown past such things.
Lex trailed his finger over the tip of Clark's erection, and Clark drew in a sharp, tremulous breath. Lex smiled a little.
"Have you, Clark?" he whispered. "Have you really?"
More to come...