By That Sin, Prologue

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.

Title image by ctbn60, used with permission of the artist. Thank you!

Story based on a prompt by ctbn60.

I charge thee, fling away ambition
By that sin fell the angels
-William Shakespeare

At first the fallen angels intended to instruct humankind in the ways of righteousness. But when they came to Earth, they fell into the ways of lust, and sinned. They corrupted the Earth, and rather than righteousness, they taught humanity all sorts of evils-- fornication and warfare and impurity. At last God ordered them to be captured and chained by his archangels, lest the Earth be destroyed by their wickedness. And on the Day of Judgment they were to be cast into the abyss of fire, to burn in torment forever, as recompense for their sinful folly.
-from The Book of Enoch

The black wings quivered, taut with strain, as the captured creature struggled to fight its way free. But the trap was ironclad.

There was no possibility of escape.

Lex Luthor stood, watching the beautifully sculpted muscles bulge and flex as the creature fought for its freedom. It was a beautiful sight. Hair almost as dark as the wings fell around its face, and its golden body was visible from head to toe.

The swanlike wings began to flap, as if the creature thought it might be able to take flight if it fought hard enough. But it remained earthbound, and at last it stood still, head down, gasping for breath. At last it lifted its head. Long, dark eyelashes fluttered, and a pair of green eyes Lex hadn't seen for a decade gazed at him.

Lex. Let me go.

"No," Lex said, hearing the voice in his head as clearly as if the creature had spoken. "You left with too much unresolved between us. I'm not letting you go until we can discuss matters."

Let me GO!

It was a deep, inexorable voice of heavenly wrath, commanding a mere mortal to bend to its will. Lex stiffened his spine, fighting against his natural desire to acquiesce, and shook his head.

"No, Clark," he said softly. "You're mine."

More to come...

Lex Boy

Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4

Clark/Lex AU
Season 5
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.

His life was over.

Clark Kent sat in his loft, staring glumly at the front page of the Inquisitor. His parents hadn't seen it yet, but when they did, he was so going to be dead. So very dead.

Because there was a big picture of him kissing Lex Luthor on the front page.

He and Lex had been having an affair for quite some time. He was eighteen, so it wasn't like Lex was going to be in legal trouble or anything. Still, the newspapers had always made a big deal over Lex and all his women. Lex Girls, they'd dubbed them.

As far as Clark knew, he was the first Lex Boy.

The media were going to have a field day.

*****

His first clue as to what his life was now going to be like came when he finished up his chores and headed downtown to the Talon. He hung out at the movie-theater-turned-coffeeshop all the time, as did most of his friends. It was a small town, after all, and there were only so many places to hang out.

He walked into the Talon, hoping to find a quiet table where he could sip black coffee and quietly reflect on his screwups.

The minute he walked through the door, a flash bulb went off.

Clark jumped, because he hadn't been expecting a brilliant white light to flash in his face. He turned toward it, and another one flashed. And another, and another.

He blinked against the lights, stupefied. Clark Kent, Kansas farmboy, now apparently rated his own paparazzi.

He stood there gaping foolishly for a moment, but the relentlessly flashing bulbs galvanized him into action. He spun on his heel and retreated, hearing a flood of footsteps behind him. He broke into a run-- a human run, since disappearing from in front of a crowd of reporters would only provoke questions he didn't want asked-- and fled back to the relative quiet of the farm.

*****

"I didn't want you to find out this way."

Clark bowed his head and spoke to his fingers, intertwined in his lap. He knew his parents were looking at him, but he didn't quite dare meet their eyes.

"Clark." His mother's voice, gentle and reassuring as always. "We just wish you'd told us."

Yeah, because Dad's so understanding about all things Lex. Clark choked the words back, because he really didn't want to start a fight right now.

"It was kind of private," he said instead. "At least it was supposed to be."

"Clark..." Jonathan Kent spoke, sounding irritated. "You ought to know by now that nothing is private in a small town. And by associating your name with Lex's, you've made it that much more likely that someone will start digging into your secrets."

Clark lifted his head and glared at his father. "So I should have just stayed clear of Lex? Is that what you're saying?"

Jonathan glared right back. "That's exactly what I'm saying, Clark."

"I couldn't do that." Clark barely resisted the urge to slam a fist down, aware that he'd crack the kitchen table. "I love him, Dad."

He saw Jonathan flinch slightly. Martha shot a warning glance at her husband-- quiet, you-- and reached out, putting her hand on Clark's.

"Are you really sure of your feelings?" she asked, very softly. "You're so young, Clark. Are you absolutely sure you love him?"

Clark thought back over the events of the past year. Things had gotten complicated, far more complex than his parents knew. His alien "father" had told him he must find three Kryptonian crystals in order to avert "the Earth's ultimate destruction." Clark had one in his possession, but no clue how to find the others, and he'd soon realized Lex was searching for the same crystals. Lex possessed boundless resources and endless curiosity, and besides, Lex was his best friend, so Clark had gone to Lex and asked for his help in finding them.

Working together, the two of them had eventually found the crystals. With the last crystal in hand, Clark had taken Lex with him to the caves, and when he'd placed the third crystal onto the great stone table there, the two of them had been transported to the Arctic, the crystals (now a single glittering crystal) with them.

Spurred by some strange instinct, Clark had thrown the crystal, and a giant fortress of ice had erupted. Lex had stood next to him, staring wide-eyed at the enormous structure.

After that, Clark hadn't figured he had much choice but to tell Lex his secret. He'd led Lex to the great fortress, and once inside its shadowy chambers, he'd laid everything out for Lex, his alien heritage and his strange powers and his arrival in the first meteor shower that had caused so much destruction and tragedy in Smallville. He'd half expected the other man to turn and run into the icy wasteland around them, just to get away from him.

Instead, Lex had stared at him for a long moment, and then placed a hand on his face and leaned forward, kissing him for the first time.

"I always knew you were special," he said softly.

At the other man's wholehearted acceptance, Clark had tumbled irrevocably into love with Lex. He might be only eighteen, but he knew how he felt. He knew he'd never stop loving Lex.

His mother squeezed his hand. Drawn back to the present, Clark turned his head and looked into Martha's eyes.

"I'm sure, Mom," he said.

She smiled, a little sadly.

"Then you need to get used to this," she said. "Because this is something Lex deals with every day."

*****

"I'm sorry, Clark. I never meant to put you through this."

Lex Luthor placed a gentle hand on Clark's shoulder as he spoke. Sprawled on the red couch in his loft, Clark looked up with a wan smile.

"It's not your fault, Lex. Not really."

"It is my fault. I knew what you'd be getting into if you got involved with me. But I let it happen anyway."

"I just..." Clark sighed, and sat up, making space for Lex. "How do you deal with it, Lex? The constant stalking, the questions shouted at you everywhere you go, the harassment? It's only been two days, and already I'm ready to start knocking heads together."

"It isn't always this bad." Lex sat down on the cushions next to him. "You're just the story of the week, Clark. Eventually, the furor will die down."

"But I wanted..." Clark waved helplessly with his hands, struggling for words. "What we had, Lex... it was private. It was ours. And now everyone knows about it. My parents, Smallville, everybody in Metropolis. People on the other side of the world, for God's sake. Complete strangers are reading about us over coffee and discussing us. It's like our relationship has been put on display in a museum, you know? I feel like I'm on the fucking Truman Show."

Lex sighed. "Welcome to my world, Clark. I've never had a relationship that wasn't photographed and analyzed and discussed. And this one is being analyzed more than most, because..."

"Because I'm the first Lex Boy."

Lex winced visibly at the phrase. "You're not a Lex Boy," he said, very gently. "No matter how much they label you that, it isn't true. You aren't just another piece of arm candy, Clark. This is something different. Something more."

"Yeah. I know. But they don't get that."

"I wouldn't expect them to. They don't care about the substance of our relationship, Clark. All they want is pictures and headlines to grab their readers' attention. And eventually, people will get bored, and it'll all die down."

"But in the meantime..."

"In the meantime, we have to deal with it. And we will." Lex took his hand. "Together."

Read Chapter 2 here.

Lights, Chapter 1

Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13

Clark/Lex
Season 3, sometime after "Phoenix"
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Note: Written for tariel22 for the Support Stacie auction, based on an idea she provided. Many, many thanks to tariel for generously allowing me to post this here!
Title image created by leothelion for this story. Used with permission of the artist.

When the lights go down in the city
And the sun shines on the bay
I want to be there in my city...

So you think you're lonely
Well my friend I'm lonely too
I want to get back to my city by the bay
-"Lights," Journey

The farm felt smaller.

Clark Kent sighed as he tossed bags of feed out of his old truck. It wasn't surprising the farm felt small, really. He'd spent the summer in Metropolis, one of the largest cities in the world. But it had been a bad summer. A terrible summer, really, in which he'd put on a red kryptonite ring and terrorized the city, doing all sorts of immoral and illegal crap he would never have done under normal circumstances.

He couldn't look back on those days without a shudder. A shudder of disgust for the way he'd behaved. A shudder of fear at how close he'd come to letting the world know his secrets. A shudder of pain at the memory of how much he'd hurt everyone who loved him.

And yet... and yet...

He lifted his head and looked across the flat fields he'd known since he was a very small child. This was home, the only home he'd ever truly known. His world had been bounded by corn fields and pastures full of cattle and a hundred-year-old farmhouse for as long as he could remember.

But this past summer, his world had expanded.

He sighed, remembering the apartment he'd lived in, all by himself, with a little stab of longing. Of course he'd stolen the money to pay for it, as well as all its furniture, and if he ever went back to Metropolis he sure as hell couldn't afford to live someplace like that.

He laughed grimly at himself. If he ever went back to Metropolis, the only place he could afford to live would be a cardboard box.

But he wasn't going back to Metropolis. Hell, no. After all the bad crap that he'd done there, he had terrible memories of the place. He never wanted to see the big city again as long as he lived. He was going to stay on the Kent Farm for the rest of his life, and be grateful for it.

But... it was so quiet.

Against his will, he remembered the sounds of the city, the dull roar of cars and the noise of millions of people talking, the sounds of jets flying overhead and the hum of machinery. He remembered the smells, the thick, heavy scent of exhaust and the mouthwatering smell of bratwurst stands and the acrid odor of human bodies in the heat. He remembered the sights, the tall steel and glass buildings gleaming in the sunlight, the bright lights and the neon at night.

Metropolis was anything but quiet. It was chaos.

And God help him, in some ways he really missed it.

Bewildered by his strangely conflicted emotions, he shook his head, trying to dispel his moodiness. He had chores to do. This was his life, just as it always had been, and he needed to get over these thoughts of Metropolis that pressed their way into his mind so frequently. He was a farm boy, and the flat, fertile plains of Kansas were where he belonged. He took a deep breath, drawing in the clean fresh air of the country, the familiar smells of cow manure and falling autumn leaves and grass and dirt.

He looked into the bed of the truck and realized he'd unloaded all the feed-- a lot slower than necessary, thanks to his daydreaming-- so he headed for the barn to muck out some horse stalls.

The excitement never stops, he thought wryly.

And damn it, there he went again. He was supposed to be happy to be home, so where was all this mopiness coming from? He slapped himself, mentally speaking, and told himself to get over it.

As he approached the barn, a shining silver Porsche turned into the dirt drive and made its way up the pitted road. Clark turned with a happy smile of welcome. Over the summer he'd thought his best friend Lex Luthor had died in a plane crash, had seen the headline that read R.I.P. LEX, had even attended his funeral. The day Lex had shown up, battered but alive, at the farm and hugged him had been one of the best days of his life.

The gleaming silver car drew to a stop next to him, and Lex got out, wearing dark glasses and dressed in his usual uniform of expensive dark trousers and even more expensive dark shirt. The trousers were black, the shirt charcoal gray. Lex's bald head shone in the sun, gleaming almost as much as his car did.

Lex drew off his sunglasses and smiled at Clark, and Clark grinned back. He still hadn't gotten over the amazed surprise that Lex was alive, and he couldn't look at his friend without a little squeeze of joy in his chest.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey yourself," Lex answered. "Looks like you're working hard."

"Well..." Clark smiled, a little wryly. "Since you were nice enough to save the farm for us, I want to make sure we hang onto it this time."

His parents had been on the verge of losing the farm while he'd been in Metropolis. They didn't blame him for running away, but still, he was working hard in an effort to atone for his sins. He hated the fact that on red K, he'd just abandoned them, left them alone to cope with everything. On red K, he was a jerk. And he worried that meant that deep down, he really was a jerk.

"I admire your work ethic," Lex answered. "But I wonder if you might be able to clear your schedule for the rest of the day and this weekend."

Clark cocked his head. "Clear my schedule? For what?"

Lex smiled.

"I'm spending the weekend in Metropolis, Clark. I thought you might like to come along."

Read Chapter 2 here.

Happy Birthday, Lex

Clark/Lex 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.
Sequel to Happy Birthday Clark.
The above picture was posted by andreas_ri and edited by tariel22.

The cuffs were made of stiff leather, and they felt rough against the skin of his wrists. Despite his confinement, Clark Kent managed to prop himself up on his elbows and grinned at the man who'd just cuffed his arms to a table in their living room.

"You know I can shatter these things like glass, right?"

Lex Luthor smiled back at him. "Go ahead and try."

His curiosity piqued by the hint of mischief in his partner's eyes, Clark tried to lift an arm, and discovered he couldn't. He felt his eyebrows draw down.

"What did you do, Lex?"

"Nothing permanent," Lex assured him. "There's just a little blue K embedded in the cuffs. You're powerless... but only as long as the cuffs are on."

Clark frowned more than before. "What if I don't want to be powerless?"

"Then I'll let you loose, Clark. You know you can trust me. If you're not comfortable with this, say so."

Clark looked up at the man he loved more than anything. He and Lex had been married for years, and over the course of those years Lex had proven himself worthy of Clark's trust, over and over again.

"Do you really want to do this?" he asked.

"I told you, Clark. This is what I want for my fortieth birthday. You, at my mercy."

Clark had agreed to Lex's request with an indulgent smile, knowing that he couldn't really be at anyone's mercy. But he should have expected that Lex would have come up with some way to make his fantasy reality. Lex always did.

Clark had to admit that the idea of being powerless and chained made him, well, uncomfortable. He was accustomed to always being the most powerful person in any situation. He was accustomed to being the strongest, the fastest. Finding himself suddenly vulnerable made him really, really nervous.

But there was no one he'd rather be vulnerable with than Lex.

"Okay," he said, letting himself drop back onto the table. It wasn't long enough for him to stretch out on, so he drew his legs up. Missionary position, he thought wryly. "I'm all yours, Lex."

Lex smiled, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. He placed his hand onto the middle of Clark's chest, and began to rub in slow, careful circles.

Clark felt his eyes drift close, and despite himself, he began to relax. Lex had been married to him long enough to know exactly how to affect him, and he'd always found having the center of his chest rubbed to be a very comforting sensation. He let out his breath in a long sigh, and all the tension flowed out of his muscles.

Lex's hand moved in ever-expanding circles, and when his palm stroked slowly over Clark's nipple, Clark jumped. A different sort of tension invaded his body, and he squirmed a little.

Lex lifted his other hand and began stroking his thumbs over Clark's nipples. Even through the blue t-shirt Clark wore, it felt really, really good. He felt his nipples harden under Lex's ministrations, and he felt himself hardening elsewhere, too. A low moan rose from his throat.

Lex shoved up the old blue t-shirt and lowered his head, and at the first stroke of his wet velvet tongue over Clark's nipple, Clark gasped. His head fell back, and his spine arched, offering himself to Lex in instinctive submission.

Lex took what he offered, licking at his nipple for long moments, while Clark gasped and moaned, then slowly taking the small nub into his mouth and sucking. All the while his other hand played with Clark's other nipple, pinching it, rolling it, caressing it, until Clark writhed wildly beneath him.

"Lex. Ahhhhh... Lex..."

Lex's voice was low and sultry. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No." The word fell from him of its own accord. The very last thing in the world he wanted was for Lex to stop. "I just... oh, Lex, please..."

His cock was shoving eagerly against the worn denim of his jeans, and he needed to be touched there, needed it so badly his body shook and his blood ran hot in his veins. But Lex smiled, shaking his head.

"Not yet, Clark."

He lowered his head and continued his ministrations, licking and sucking and biting. Meanwhile, his hands began to stroke over Clark's body, sliding over his biceps, caressing softly over his abdomen. Clark strained against the cuffs, enjoying the light touch, but wanting so much more.

At long last Lex's hands began to unbutton his jeans. Clark nearly sobbed with relief as Lex pushed the denim aside, then hooked his boxers with a finger and pulled them down over his swollen erection. Lex straightened up and stared at what he'd uncovered, an expression of awe on his face.

"Even as long as we've been together," he said, his voice rough, "I just can't get over how beautiful you are."

He stretched out a hand, and at the first touch of his finger, Clark twisted wildly, feeling his erection spasming. Pleasure poured through him, and he felt precome welling up.

"Lex," he moaned, because he couldn't seem to say anything else. "Lex."

"Does that feel good, Clark?"

"God, yes."

"It can feel better." Lex began stroking up and down, very slowly. "You need to want it a lot more desperately than this, Clark."

Clark couldn't imagine wanting it more than this. His cock pulsed in a steady, throbbing rhythm beneath Lex's exploring finger, and his balls were tight. He and Lex were both busy guys, and it had been a long time since they'd spent a lot of time on foreplay. Most of the time they were lucky to carve enough time out of their schedules for a quickie.

And maybe that was why Lex had wanted this for his birthday, he thought, so that they could rediscover the delights of foreplay. Clark couldn't say he minded. In fact, he seemed to be the primary beneficiary of Lex's present so far.

Lex lowered his head again, and at the first brush of his lips over Clark's erection, Clark heard a terrible sound escape his own mouth, a sound of anguished need and desperate pleasure.

"That's it," Lex whispered. "That's more like it. You haven't needed it this much in a long time, Clark."

He pressed soft, teasing kisses along the length of Clark's cock, and it felt so good, satisfying something deep within Clark while simultaneously making him want so much more. And then Lex's lips parted, and Clark felt the slow stroke of Lex's tongue against his most delicate skin, and he strained wildly against the cuffs, because he just couldn't take it any more.

He heard his own voice, pleading wildly, begging for it, now now now please Lex now. But Lex didn't give him what he wanted, didn't make any move to take him into his mouth or his body and satisfy him fully. He just let his tongue stroke up and down, questing gently, until Clark thought he might explode.

He'd never been so hard in his life. He'd never ached so much. Ordinarily he would have flipped Lex over and taken control, long before now. Ordinarily by now he'd be plunging into Lex, hard and fast.

Maybe that was why Lex had wanted this for his birthday. Because Clark tended to be impatient. He'd never been very good at waiting for satisfaction, and he had a tendency to take over the moment he lost patience.

But today he couldn't take over, because of the restraints. He had to go with Lex's timetable rather than his own.

He just wished Lex's timetable was a little, well, faster.

At last Lex wrapped a hand around Clark, drawing his erection toward him, and brushed a kiss over the sensitive head. Clark whimpered.

"Yes. Oh, yes, Lex, please..."

What he wanted was a quick resolution. He imagined Lex drawing him into his mouth and sucking him off, fast and hard. But instead, Lex began tracing around the swollen head with his tongue. Clark's mouth fell open and his eyes clenched shut, and he ground his teeth together to hold back another little noise of desire.

There was a moist sound, and he knew Lex was putting lube onto his hand. Thank God, he thought. He was finally going to get what he needed.

Lex continued to lick him, but his slickened finger slowly worked its way into Clark. Clark sighed with pleasure and anticipation as Lex added a second finger, stretching him.

This was what he wanted most. To be filled. To be part of Lex.

Lex curled his fingers a little, stroking the impossibly sensitive spot inside Clark, and Clark convulsed at the sudden pleasure. Precome surged from him, and Lex licked it away. Clark's voice rose in a long, wavering wail of frantic need.

"Lexxxxxxx...!"

Ordinarily Lex only finger fucked him long enough to prepare him, because frankly, Clark had never been able to wait very long. But today, Lex seemed determined to torture him. His fingers stroked Clark from the inside, relentlessly, endlessly, driving him higher and higher, to the point of insanity. Clark was so turned on he could hardly breathe, and he felt like his heart was about to pound its way out of his chest. Precome gushed from him with each stroke of Lex's fingers, and Lex licked it all away, and God, that felt good too.

He couldn't bear it any more. His balls were tight beyond bearing, and his cock was throbbing in a frantic, urgent rhythm. The top of his head was going to blow off any minute now.

"Please." His voice was an octave higher than usual, high-pitched and plaintive. "Please, Lex, you have to... you have to let me..."

"I don't have to do anything." Lex stroked him just a little faster, and Clark felt his cock jerking as Lex's fingers brought him so close to an orgasm that he gasped. "That's why I wanted to do this, Clark. So I could be in charge for once. You're always in charge. You always run things your way."

Clark had never meant to run things. He just wasn't really good at waiting. But he couldn't really argue the matter, because he knew perfectly well he tended to take charge. If he weren't cuffed, he would have been inside of Lex a while ago, and they both knew it.

Lex's fingers moved harder and faster, and his lips parted, drawing Clark into the hot depths of his mouth. Another of those quavering wails escaped Clark, and his hips flexed involuntarily, driving him deep into Lex's mouth. Heat and moisture surrounded him, and Lex's fingers were still inside him, stroking that sensitive spot deep inside, and he heard himself crying out with something close to ecstasy.

Lex's mouth moved harder, and his hand moved faster, and pleasure spiked through Clark, compelling and lavish and impossible to resist.

God, yes, he was going to come, he was going to come so hard, he was going to shoot right down Lex's throat, spasm after hot spasm, and it was going to feel so fucking good...

His cock twitched hard, and sweat beaded on his skin, and he arched wildly, trying to thrust even more deeply into Lex's mouth as Lex moved on him and in him, even harder and faster than before.

God. So hot so wet so close so close so close...

He'd lost any sense of self-control a while back, and he writhed helplessly, wild sounds rising from him. All he was aware of was his driving, overwhelming need. All he knew was Lex, Lex's hot mouth on him and his fingers caressing him and the scent of his skin in Clark's nostrils. Lex was in charge, totally in control, and it was so good and he had no idea why he'd ever wanted to be in control because being under Lex's command was so incredible...

Ordinarily he was careful of his partner, afraid of hurting him, but now he was thrusting wildly, deeper and deeper, lost in a haze of pleasure. And Lex took more and more of him in. His fingers thrust into Clark harder, and his other hand lifted, stroking Clark just beneath the balls, and Clark's wails rose toward a shriek.

His cock was jerking in a steady, violent beat now, gushing precome, and he knew he was only a few seconds away from a wild climax that would make him scream. He surrendered to the pleasure totally, surrendered to Lex in a way he'd never surrendered before, despite all their years of marriage.

Oh fuck fuck fuck...

"Ahhhhh." He was hardly aware of the sound of his own voice, crying out in desperate need. "Yes, Lex, yes, I'm coming, I'm coming... ahh, fuck, yes..."

Just as the pleasure began to saturate him, pouring through his body in a flood, Lex pulled back, letting him go with a pop and pulling his fingers away. Clark collapsed back onto the table, thwarted, almost sobbing with disappointment.

"Lex." He became aware that he was covered with sweat, gasping like he'd just run a race. "Oh, God, Lex, don't stop now. Please."

Lex straightened up, looking over his body with a possessiveness Clark had never seen in his eyes before. "Not yet," he said, very softly. "Not until I decide it's time."

"It's time." Clark squirmed uncomfortably, feeling his engorged cock resting on his belly, twitching with need. He needed the stimulation of Lex's fingers and his mouth and his body. He just needed Lex, more than he'd ever needed him before.

And maybe that was why Lex had wanted this. Maybe that was the whole point, to make him remember exactly how much he needed Lex, and how much Lex meant to him. God knew that as much as he loved Lex, he sometimes felt like he was taking him for granted, rushing through sex with him so they could move onto the next item on their schedule, not making love to him often enough because one or the other of them was always too tired, never cherishing him the way he ought to be cherished.

Lex was the most important thing in his life, and suddenly he wondered if Lex knew how much he adored him. He wondered if he let Lex know how he felt about him nearly enough.

He had an awful feeling that the answer was no.

"It's not time," Lex answered. "Not yet."

"Lex..." Clark paused to gasp in air. "Lex, I love you."

"I know." Lex reached down and began stroking his cock again, a single finger moving up and down, so softly it almost tickled. His voice was very low. "But sometimes I get the feeling you don't really see me anymore. Even in bed. Maybe especially in bed."

"Yeah. Maybe. It's just..." Clark tried to ignore the sensations Lex was creating in him. He drew in a shuddering breath and continued. "We're just both so busy, Lex. I just never feel like we have time..."

"That's why I wanted to do this." Lex was looking down, apparently riveted on the sight of Clark's erection bobbing against his stomach, but Clark had a feeling Lex was just trying to avoid meeting his eyes. "I thought maybe if we did things a little differently... if we shook things up a little..."

Clark gave a long sigh that would have ruffled Lex's hair, if he'd had any. "I'm sorry, Lex. I never meant to make you feel like I wasn't into you anymore."

"I just... I'm forty, Clark. I know I'm not as young as I used to be, but..."

Clark gaped at him. "Is that what this is about? You think maybe I don't think you're sexy because you're..."

"Old," Lex finished with a wry twist of his mouth. His hand stilled, and he bowed his head. "Yeah. Maybe that's it."

"Oh, my God." Clark fought to keep laughter at bay, because he could tell Lex didn't find the idea at all amusing. "That's stupid, Lex. You're sexier now than you've ever been."

"I wish I believed that," Lex muttered, still not meeting his eyes.

"Believe it." Clark grinned. "Let me go, and I'll show you just how sexy you are."

"Uh-uh, buddy." Lex finally looked up, and met Clark's smile with a hesitant one of his own. "Not yet. I still haven't gotten my birthday present."

"Not my fault," Clark pointed out. "I've been asking for it for the last fifteen minutes."

"True." Lex's finger started stroking him again, and Clark twisted against his bonds, with no success. Goddamned blue kryptonite, he thought irritably.

"Lex," he whispered, and his voice sounded rough and raw-edged, like he'd been eating nails. "Come on. Let me have it. Let me have you."

Lex looked at him for a long moment, as if gauging the level of his need. At last he reached down and began unbuttoning his own trousers. He let them fall to the floor, along with his silk boxers, and stripped off his own shirt. At the sight of Lex's long, pink erection, Clark felt his own eyes widen, as if he'd never seen it before.

Maybe, he thought, he hadn't really looked at it in a long time. In fact, he was pretty sure he hadn't really looked at Lex in a long time. And that was a pity.

Because Lex was so beautiful the sight of his bare body stole Clark's breath away.

Lex began slicking lube over his cock, and Clark gave another long sigh of desire and anticipation. He was no longer at the frantic peak of physical need he'd been at a few minutes ago, but emotionally, he wanted Lex more intensely than he'd wanted him in years. He wanted to fix the rift he'd inadvertently let develop in their relationship. He adored Lex, with every fiber of his being, and right now what he wanted, more than anything, was to show Lex how much he loved him.

Lex reached down and pulled off Clark's jeans and boxers, leaving him naked from the waist down. And then he gently pushed at Clark's thighs, stood between Clark's open legs, and leaned forward. The feel of his cock nudging against the inside of Clark's thigh sent a fiery jolt of longing through Clark, and he moaned.

"Please," he whispered. "Please, Lex, please..."

Lex pressed against him, his hands gripping Clark's arms, and then his hot, sleek cock slipped into Clark, fitting just as perfectly as he always did. Clark groaned and threw his head back.

"Yes. Lex."

It felt so intimate that tears stung his eyes. God, he loved Lex so damn much. How the hell had he let things get to the point where sex was just another activity on their schedule, instead of a constant reaffirmation of their love for one another? When had he started thinking of sex as just another item to be checked off the daily calendar?

And how long had it been eating away at Lex's self-confidence, making him think Clark didn't find him as attractive as he had when they were younger?

The thought of Lex imagining himself to be unattractive, even old, made Clark's eyes sting some more. He lifted his head and kissed Lex's throat, trying to convey everything he felt for him, everything he'd ever felt for him. Trying to tell him without words that to Clark, he'd always be sexy.

Lex moaned, pressing deeply into Clark, then withdrawing again. His second thrust was so hard Clark gasped, and his fists clenched. All the desperate physical need he'd felt earlier came flooding back.

"Faster," he whispered against Lex's throat. "Please."

Lex didn't fight him this time. He began thrusting, in a steady, hard rhythm, and Clark gave into it, gave into Lex. Lex was the one in control, the one with all the power, and Clark was okay with that.

Hell, he was more than okay with it. It was overwhelming. His spine arched, and he heard himself crying out again.

Lex made love to him for long moments, never varying his rhythm, never moving quite fast enough to let Clark come, holding him right on the verge. At last Clark heard himself whimpering, a broken, sobbing plea for release.

"PleaseLexpleaseyouhavetoyouhavetopleaseIcan'tstanditanymore..."

He felt Lex's hands tighten on his arms, and then Lex was slamming into him violently. Heat exploded inside him, filling him, then spilling over. His cock spasmed in an endless orgasm, come spurting everywhere, and he heard Lex's voice raised, felt the heat deep inside him as Lex climaxed right along with him.

Afterward, he fell back against the table, and Lex collapsed onto him. The two of them lay there for long moments in a comfortable, companionable silence. At last Clark spoke, very softly.

"Lex... I do love you, you know. I think I love you more every day. And you're sexier than you ever were."

Lex lifted his head and looked at him, his gray eyes heavy-lidded with physical contentment. But beneath the contentment, Clark still saw a flicker of insecurity.

"Are you sure you're not just saying that?"

"Believe me, I'm sure." Clark turned his head, brushing kisses over Lex's jawline. "Forty suits you, Lex. And if I haven't been dialed in enough when we make love... well, that's my fault, not yours. I guess I got a little too focused on work."

"Your work is important."

"So are you." Clark turned his head a little further and kissed Lex on the mouth. "Nothing in my life is more important than you, Lex. And from now on... I'm going to make sure you know it."

Lex kissed him back, then pulled back and looked at him. In the silver depths of his eyes Clark saw the customary gleam of self-confidence, and he knew with relief that Lex believed him. "Do you want me to let you up now?"

"Hell, no." Clark grinned. "You wanted me at your mercy for your birthday, right? Well, your birthday has barely begun."

"I'm not sure I can do that again." Lex's mouth curved in a self-deprecating smile. "I'm not as young as I used to be, Clark."

"Doesn't matter. You get sexier every day."

Lex stared at him for a long moment. When he answered, his voice was barely a whisper. "I'm glad you think so, Clark."

Lex lowered his head, and the two of them shared a long, intimate kiss. Before long, Clark felt the other man's body begin to stir against him. He closed his eyes, feeling heat curl deep in his own body, and smiled against his partner's mouth.

"Happy birthday, Lex."

-The End-

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-

Imprisoned, Chapter 1

Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6

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

Clark Kent is bored out of his mind.

He's been sitting in this cell for quite some time, waiting for something to happen. But nothing has.

When he woke up and found himself here, he did his best to get out. He tried to rip the cell door off its hinges, but it stayed stubbornly attached. He couldn't smash through the wall, either. All he got for his effort was a badly bruised shoulder.

He's stark naked, but that doesn't make him feel nearly as vulnerable as the fact that his strength is gone. Somehow he's lost his superhuman abilities, and iron and cinderblock can hold him just as well as they can hold anyone else.

Deprived of his superhuman strength, he spent a long time carefully going over the walls and the door, trying to find a weakness that mere human strength could take advantage of. But he couldn't find anything.

At last he sat down on the hard sleeping surface to wait.

He's still waiting. He's bored and he's pissed and he's scared.

He's also baffled as to why he's here. He and Lex Luthor have had their share of problems, because Lex finds it supremely difficult to trust anyone. Lex is particularly paranoid about aliens, and when he found out Clark was an alien, he was, not surprisingly, totally freaked out.

But Clark had thought Lex had made the decision to trust him, to accept him, when he'd flung the kryptonite bracelet away.

Well, he'd hoped Lex had made that decision, anyway.

Against his will, his mind drifts back a few hours, and he thinks of being with Lex that last time, the way they'd kissed, the way they'd touched each other.

The way they'd made love.

It wasn't making love, he tells himself fiercely. Obviously to Lex it didn't mean anything at all, or you wouldn't be here now. It was just fucking.

He wishes he could say it hadn't meant anything to him, either. But he all too clearly remembers the sound of his own voice, whispering a truth he just couldn't keep inside any longer: Oh, God, Lex. I love you.

God, he's stupid.

He gets up and starts to pace the too-small confines of his cell again. He doesn't like being caged this way. It makes him irritable and edgy. He can run across the continental United States in less than thirty seconds, and does so fairly frequently, so being in a space this small makes him feel like a cheetah in a shoebox.

He forces himself to quit worrying about the small space, and to try to figure out Lex's thought process. But no matter how hard he thinks about it, he just doesn't get it.

If Lex wanted to confine him, to experiment on him, then why throw the kryptonite bracelet away? Lex had him totally at his mercy earlier. Why let him go, then capture him while he was asleep?

He sighs. The difficulty with Lex is that you never quite know what he's going to do, or why, because Lex has a strangely complex way of approaching problems. As Clark's friend Chloe Sullivan once put it, he belongs to the Rube Goldberg school of villainy. And that makes it very hard to figure out what he might do next.

Clark has thought before that he could predict what Lex was up to, only to be very unpleasantly surprised. He can't quite follow Lex's train of thought here, can't figure out why Lex would throw away the bracelet and trap him later, but he's sure that inside the dark, winding labyrinth that is Lex's brain, it all makes perfect sense.

It doesn't really matter, anyway. Because he is here, and he's at Lex's mercy.

Assuming Lex is capable of mercy.

He can't figure out what Lex has done to him, either. The only substance he knows of that can painlessly depower him is blue kryptonite. Chloe and his ex-girlfriend Lana Lang are aware of blue K and the effect it has on him. But as far as Clark knows, Lex doesn't.

Of course, Lex shouldn't have known about red kryptonite, either, but Lana had apparently told him all about it earlier today. Maybe she'd told him about blue kryptonite, too.

But the really baffling thing is that he isn't wearing a piece of jewelry. In fact, there doesn't appear to be any kryptonite of any color, anywhere in the cell.

And yet his powers are undeniably missing in action.

At last he hears a door open, and footsteps ring against the metal flooring, coming closer. He halts his anxious pacing and stands next to the door of the cell expectantly, adrenaline surging through him. He may not have superstrength right now, but he's nevertheless a big, strong guy, and no one is dragging him out of this cell, and into some laboratory, without a fight.

And if he manages to get free, then he and Lex are going to have a little... conversation.

Lex, he thinks grimly, all his muscles tensing in angry anticipation. You're going to pay for this, damn it.

He expects to see either Lex's bald head, or one of Lex's many minions. But instead a familiar, slender figure pauses in front of his cell, and big, dark eyes stare at him intently.

"Hello, Clark."

He gapes for a long moment, then manages to close his mouth, and answers.

"Hello, Lana."

Read Chapter 2 here.

All the Wrong Reasons

Clark/Lex 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.

Was it wrong
To go along with insanity?
I guess it wasn’t really right
I guess it wasn’t meant to be
It didn’t matter what they said
'Cause we were good in bed
I guess I stuck around so I could watch us fight
For all the wrong reasons...
It’s just a little hard to leave
When you’re going down on me
-Nickelback, "Fight for All the Wrong Reasons"

"Going somewhere, Clark?"

Clark Kent didn't glance up at Lex's question. He stood in the bedroom they'd shared for years, a bedroom filled with masculine cherry furniture and leather-bound books and artwork they'd picked out together. He was throwing dark suits and flannel shirts into a shabby old suitcase, and he didn't look at all happy about it.

"I'm moving out," he said through his teeth. "I should have done it a long time ago, and we both know it."

"Clark." Lex Luthor took a step closer to his lover, and Clark looked up, a wary expression in his eyes. "We go through this about once a month. Every time you say you're leaving... but you never do."

Clark glanced away, as if avoiding Lex's gaze. "I have to go, Lex."

"No," Lex answered, very softly. "You don't."

"I can't help it." Clark threw a silk tie Lex had given him for Christmas into the suitcase with unnecessary violence. "The papers paint me as the embodiment of good in Metropolis. And here I am, shacked up with a guy who runs ethically dubious experiments on a daily basis."

"Maybe Metropolis would be better off if the papers didn't insist on portraying you as perfect," Lex suggested. "Maybe it's not good for anyone to have to try to live up to that kind of reputation."

"I'm an example to the kids of Metropolis, damn it. I mean, darn it."

"Oh, for God's sake, Clark, quit trying so hard to be something you're not. No matter what the papers say, you're not this morally pure, unsullied, innocent Boy Scout. You're just a guy."

"I'm not just a guy, Lex. That's the problem."

"But you are." Lex took a step closer and put his hand on Clark's shoulder. "Yes, you can fly, and you have all these superpowers, but deep down, you're not that different from the rest of us. You're not perfect, Clark. You swear, you love sex, you cheat at solitaire. And if you keep trying to live up to that image instead of debunking it, sooner or later it's going to tear you apart."

Clark stared down moodily into the suitcase. Lex knew he'd had it since he was a teenager in Smallville, and compared to the luxurious furnishings of their bedroom, it looked tattered and cheap. "It's just that you've done some really bad things, Lex..."

Lex nodded, doing his best to look earnest. It wasn't a look he did well. "I know I've done some horrible things in the past, Clark. But I've changed. You know that, even if the papers don't."

He'd changed because of Clark, and they both knew it. But they also knew that he wasn't incapable of changing back, if the situation demanded it.

Clark glanced at him from beneath his dark fringe of lashes, then chewed on his full bottom lip, worrying it in a way Lex found extremely distracting.

"The papers still think you're an archvillain," he said at last. "And Metropolis' hero sleeping with Metropolis' archvillain... well, it doesn't look good, Lex."

Lex scowled, trying to look wounded. "So you're dumping me because living with me makes you look bad? Seriously? When did you become that shallow, Clark?"

Clark's massive shoulders slumped, just a little. "It isn't just that," he said softly. "It's the things you're still doing, the experiments you're still running. Some of them are... well... a little on the borderline, Lex. Especially lately."

"Clark." Lex reached out and wrapped a hand around the younger man's muscular forearm. Clark didn't pull away, and Lex took that as a good sign. "You know I have good reasons for everything I do."

"Good reasons in your mind," Clark muttered. "Not necessarily in mine."

"Clark..." Lex squeezed Clark's arm, in a gesture that was equally affectionate and possessive. "We both know you're not leaving."

"I have to go, Lex. I know we've been lovers for a long time, but I can't... Lex. No."

Lex had reached down. He began to unbuckle Clark's wide leather belt, then began to unzip his jeans. Clark took a step backward, but he wasn't really putting up a protest, and they both knew it. Considering he could have been in Florida by now, he hadn't made a serious effort to get away.

It was all part of the charade they acted out every so often, the charade in which Clark appeased his conscience by announcing he was going to leave, and in which Lex managed to convince Clark to overlook his lover's misdeeds, at least for a while.

Lex shoved down Clark's boxers-- the plain cotton variety, which Clark persisted in wearing despite all the expensive silk ones Lex had given him over the years-- and took a look at what he'd exposed. Clark was already half hard, and a half-hard Clark was a very impressive sight. Lex encircled him with his hand and began to stroke, slowly and firmly, and Clark gave a long, shuddering sigh.

"You aren't leaving me," Lex said, very softly. His hand stroked Clark steadily, until Clark's erection was huge, so hot it almost burned Lex's skin. "You'll never leave. And it's not because you love me, or even because of our history together. It's just because of... this."

He dropped to his knees, Clark's cock still throbbing in his hand, and began licking at it, with slow, teasing, lingering strokes of his tongue. Clark's spine arched, and he made a suffocated noise, the sound of a man struggling to hold back his reactions.

Lex's tongue swept over him a little faster, licking away the drops of precome that beaded at the tip, and Clark gave up trying to control himself. His big hands settled onto Lex's skull, holding him in place, and he spoke roughly.

"More, Lex."

Ordinarily, Lex didn't allow people to tell him what to do. He was an internationally famous billionaire, the CEO of a multinational corporation, and one of the most influential men on the planet.

But in this particular relationship, with this particular man, he was willing to submit, to kneel, to do whatever Clark wanted.

Because Clark was superstrong, immensely fast and powerful, and one of the ironies of their relationship was that only submission could allow Lex to dominate him.

He opened his mouth wide, drawing Clark inside. Clark was huge, far larger than the average human guy, and the first time Lex had tried this he'd found it almost impossible. But over the years, he'd learned how to make it good for Clark, how to bring him to an intense peak of ecstasy, how to make him scream.

How to make the strongest man in the world weak.

Clark thrust eagerly into his mouth, still holding his head in place, low growls of pleasure rumbling from his chest, and Lex took him in, as deeply as possible.

"Damn you," Clark whispered, thrusting hard and fast. "Damn you, Lex..." He gasped for breath, creating a gust that made the heavy draperies blow wildly. "Ahhh, fuck, fuck..."

Lex could sense him trying to hold back, but failing entirely. Lex was in charge now, and they both knew it. He stroked his mouth along the thick shaft of Clark's cock a little faster, and Clark's whole body jerked.

"Yes. God, yes..."

His cock spasmed in Lex's mouth, and then he was coming, in long, hot bursts. His head dropped back, his muscles tensed, and he uttered a drawn-out roar that was so loud it shook the rafters.

Lex didn't let him go until the very last aftershock faded and Clark's cries faded into silence. Then he released the other man with a popping sound, and got to his feet.

Clark was still standing, but he was swaying, his eyelids heavy, his lips parted, his body relaxed. He looked like what he was, a man who'd been satiated so completely that he could barely keep on his feet, let alone move.

"Son of a bitch," he said, very softly.

Lex patted him on the shoulder, doing his best to keep his smug self-satisfaction concealed. Clark didn't appreciate being bested, and he definitely didn't appreciate having his lack of control rubbed in his face.

"You're not fooling me, Clark," he told the younger man. "I don't even think you're fooling yourself anymore. You're not leaving me. Not now, and not ever. You might be sticking around for all the wrong reasons... but you're sticking around."

Letting his confidence show in the set of his shoulders, he turned and headed for the hall. Behind him, there was a long silence. At last he heard Clark's heavy footsteps, moving away from the suitcase and following him, and he smiled to himself.

He'd won.

He always won.

For whatever reason, right or wrong... Clark was his.

-The End-

Redshift

Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10

Clark/Lex
Season 7
Rating: Adult. If you're under eighteen, please go elsewhere now.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
Sequel to Shattered and my other Clex stories.

Redshift occurs when a light source moves away from the observer.

"Have a glass of wine."

Clark reaches out and accepts a crystal goblet full of dark red wine from Lex. Earlier, he and Lex crashed out together after some pretty mind-blowing, earth-shattering sex, but somewhere around eleven they both woke up, and Lex now seems to be bound and determined to spoil Clark. He just cooked a couple of omelets downstairs, in the kitchen of the old farmhouse, and now he's brought them up to Clark's bedroom, along with a bottle of wine he had in his car.

It's very different from the way he was behaving earlier in the evening, when he brought a green kryptonite bracelet to the barn and hurt Clark with it, quite a lot. Now that they've made love, he's suddenly much more solicitous.

Clark wants to think it's because he got through to Lex, made him realize he's not going to hurt him or turn on him or push him away. But he isn't sure that's the real reason. With Lex, you just never know what's going through his head.

Clark sighs as he digs into his omelet, which smells mouth-wateringly good. Being Lex's lover is enough to give anyone a split personality. One minute Clark feels like he's in a war zone, and the next he's being cherished and fed and pampered.

He figures Lex must have hoped for a positive outcome to the evening, despite the bracelet, or he wouldn't have brought the wine. Lex is a connoisseur of fine wines, and his wines are all kept at the perfect temperature in the Luthor mansion wine cellar. There is no way Lex drives around with a wine bottle in his Porsche all the time, let alone a couple of Waterford goblets. Lex obviously hoped for some romance tonight.

The thought that Lex really wanted this situation to turn out well, despite the back-assward way he went about approaching Clark, makes a little warmth flare in Clark's chest. Maybe things are really going to work out between the two of them.

Maybe he's managed to convince Lex to trust him, just a little.

"This is a really good omelet," he says sincerely. "Thanks, Lex."

Lex smiles. He's sitting next to Clark on the dark blue coverlet, eating the other omelet. He wore Clark's green robe (which covered him all the way to his ankles) down to the kitchen, but dropped it on the floor when he came back up the stairs, and now he's stark naked.

He looks damn good that way, and Clark is having a hard time keeping his eyes off him, not to mention his hands.

"Glad you like it," Lex answers. "Don't forget the wine. It's a Vosne-Romanee by Henry Jayer."

Clark lifts the goblet and sniffs cautiously. "You know," he says, "I wish you wouldn't waste your good wines on me. I don't know Henry Jayer from Ernst and Julio Gallo."

Lex winces, just a bit, at the words. "You'll never learn if you don't have the opportunity to try better wines," he points out. "Anyway... I like spoiling you, Clark."

Clark likes being spoiled, more than he really wants to. Or maybe he just likes the idea that Lex wants to spoil him. Being fed omelets and red wine is a lot more pleasant than being tortured with kryptonite, for sure.

He takes a small, cautious sip of the wine. It isn't bad, although it might as well have come from the liquor store in downtown Smallville as from Burgundy, France, for all he can tell. But he definitely likes it. The flavor kind of explodes on his tongue, and a nice warmth spreads through him.

Which is odd, because alcohol really shouldn't affect him.

He thinks about that, and shrugs mentally, deciding it's not really the alcohol at all. It's being with Lex. Being with Lex makes him giddy and lightheaded and inebriated.

That's kind of embarrassing, but he figures it's a normal side effect of love.

He has another biteful of omelet, and washes it down with another, slightly larger sip of wine. The wine seems to settle into his stomach and make itself at home. He feels warm and good and... well, he's got a little buzz going, really.

And that's odd enough to make a little warning light go off in his head. Wine doesn't affect him, and if it did, two sips definitely wouldn't be enough to affect a guy his size.

He lifts the goblet again and sniffs at it suspiciously, then takes another sip. He watches his hands and arms this time, and sees the veins standing out for just a moment, etched in red.

He raises his head and gives Lex a dangerous glare. "Now how in the hell did you know about that?"

Lex lifts an unconcerned eyebrow. "The wine? I've spent a lot of time learning about wines, Clark."

"Not the wine. The red--" He almost says kryptonite, but checks himself. "Meteor rocks."

"Oh, that." Lex smiles, very sweetly, and continues eating his omelet. "Another helpful hint from our mutual ex."

Clark stares at him. Anger and betrayal twist together in his chest, along with a lot of other swirling emotions, chief among which is lust. He doesn't want to take another sip of the wine, but he can't quite help himself. The way it makes him feel is just too good to resist.

"Why?" he asks. Even to his own ears his voice sounds lower and more commanding than usual. "I mean, I'm here, in bed with you. You've got me already. Why the hell do you want to drug me?"

He takes another sip, and heat radiates through him, from his center outward. God, it feels good. Better than wearing a rock on his finger, for sure. He's surging with sexual energy, his cock is as hard as carven marble, and his blood is hot.

He's ready to fuck.

"Why?" Lex looks at him steadily. "Because you're still holding back on me, Clark. Even after everything we've done, I can feel you holding back."

"I have to hold back." Clark takes another sip of the blood-dark wine, feeling a sardonic smile curl his mouth. "If I don't hold back, Lex, I can kill you. Is that what you want? To be ripped into little pieces when I fuck you?"

Lex stares at him, unblinking, as if Clark is a cobra who might strike at any moment. "I don't believe you'll kill me."

"You have no idea how out of control I get, Lex." Clark drains the goblet and shoves his half-eaten omelet aside. He has some serious physical desires to attend to, but the need for food isn't one of them right now. "You have absolutely no idea what you've just let yourself in for. I'll do anything when I'm on the red stuff. Anything."

Lex looks back at him, a glint of excitement lighting his gray eyes.

"That's what I'm hoping for," he says.

Read Chapter 2 here.