Author: Alax
Rating: PG (for implied intimacy)
Spoilers: None
Summary: What Am I
Author Notes: For the Clexfest Second Wave, Challenge: Write a story about Clark and Lex through the 'eyes' of something else. Through the 'eyes' of the Luthor Manor, or through the eyes of one of Lex's cars or something like that (kira-nerys)
Archiving: Clexfest
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I’d be an voyeuristic exhibitionist.
Feedback: Please me. AlaxL@aol.com

WHAT AM I?
by Alax

I’ve been passed from one person to another for years, some skilled, some just young, fumbling teenagers with no clue. All of them unfamiliar, amateurish when they first touched me, but I can always count on Master Lex to teach everyone who handles me the proper way to do it... sooner or later. Master Lex does not usually let inexperience linger.

I hope you’ll forgive the indiscretion, but I feel compelled to state the fact that with Master Lex behind me, I’m astoundingly impressive. I would be nothing without him, and Master Lex definitely be a different man without me.

I must say though, we weren’t born possessing the kind of instinctual reflexes that we share now. It’s taken several intense meetings with inarguably skilled men and women to get Master Lex and I to this point. We’ve had quite a job of it actually.

The first time Master Lex touched me, he was merely trying to simultaneously rebel against and impress his father. Until then, my Master’s father had been very clear in his instructions: Lex was not to touch me in such a way. Master Lex was never one to follow orders well.

Apparently I am somewhat of an addiction for him now. Ever since that first time, Master Lex doesn’t seem to be able to keep his hands off me. There have been times in the past when he neglected me, although the reasons for our estrangement were perfectly understandable. The longest he’s gone without giving me attention was when his mother died. I was naturally the last thing on his mind then, though I longed to be able to comfort him in even the smallest way. It was for the best though. One cannot imagine what he might have done if he’d handled me when he was that angry.

The latest (and by far the most awkward) in the long line of candidates is a young gentleman named Clark Kent. He has quite a physique, but I find his technique clumsy and desperate. He obviously has no experience in my field. Master Lex would be vastly disappointed if I ever refused an order, especially when it comes to this young man in particular, so I never rebel against Clark’s touch. I welcome the thick fingers, sometimes pretending they’re Master Lex’s own instead of Clark’s. Some days it’s the only way for me to get through one of our "sessions," as Master Lex likes to call them.

If I’m lucky during one such lesson, the bumbling boy forgets his inhibitions and his shyness melts into a brand of youthful ambition I’ve always valued in young men. It doesn’t happen like that often with Clark though, not yet. I am supremely confident that Master Lex will remedy that in the near future. I should not presume to complain - the young man is learning, and is an apt student. He makes up for his inexperience with passion and a burning desire to please Master Lex.

However, there is one thing about the boy that I find terribly odd. At the beginning of each session, when Master Lex initially points me at the youth, the blood drains from his face and he begins to tremble. I’m not intentionally that intimidating, but I suppose for one unaccustomed to this sort of exchange, I must come across that way.

One might suppose that being a Luthor plaything is not a wholly enjoyable experience, but that assumption would be completely incorrect. In the foggy rhythm of action, I am able to see Master Lex in a different light. Smooth skin heated and sweating, slipping on me with an ounce of self-loathing. The emotions behind the exchanges drive me, motivate Master Lex, encourage the young man who tries his best to answer all of Master Lex’s advances with a skill he’s slowly acquiring.

When the sessions are over, I can depend on Master Lex’s fastidiousness. He takes care of me, makes sure I am flawless - wiped clean, polished, oiled and tucked away until Clark’s next fencing lesson. Beautiful fops, city-slick arrogant snakes, young, innocent boys. They have all been glorious victories, but Clark... Clark might be the one we’ve been waiting for. Finally, we may have found a worthy opponent.


What am I?
I’m Lex’s fencing foil!