PART 2

“Lex, these pants are way too tight.”

“They look great.  You’re just not used to the fit of the leather.”  Lex flipped through the rack of clothing the boutique’s manager had selected for Clark and tossed him a short-sleeved lavender silk button down.  “I want to see you in this.”

“This stuff just doesn’t feel like me.”  Clark held up another shirt from the growing pile of clothing at his feet – those items that passed Lex’s inspection.  “You really want me to wear this?”

Lex eyed the black latex zip up that would hug every curve and slope on Clark’s torso and arched a brow.  “Clark, much as I enjoy you in nothing but the collar, I’m not prepared to go out in public that way.”

Clark mumbled something that might have been a defense of his normal attire and shed a mesh top that was tragically out-dated.  As much as Lex admired Clark in a pair of jeans – and he admired him dressed thusly on a daily basis – he was ready to see Clark in something that did justice to his body and his youth.

“So, what’s the occasion?  Friday night, I mean?”

“No occasion.  I just thought you’d like to get out of the penthouse for a night.” 

Lex was more than ready to take a break.  He’d worked all weekend putting together a deal his father would find an acceptable alternative to St. Petersburg.  Another couple days to tie up loose ends on his part and Lionel could sign off on it.  A week of due process – hopefully no longer, but one could never be sure about the efficiency of foreign agencies – and he’d be free to deliver the bad news to Sergei personally.

A small smile lingered on his face as he watched Clark struggle into the latex.  Clark would look good in so many things.  Maybe a trip to his tailor was called for, as well.

“Hey, Lex?  Speaking of getting out, I was wondering,” Clark’s eyes met his in the long mirror, “A week from Saturday is the 4^th of July.  I know I’m supposed to be here that night, but I was thinking you might want to come to Smallville instead?”  Puppy dog brows raised hopefully.  “It’d be fun, I promise.  My friend Chloe always has a big cook-out and there’s volleyball and horseback riding.  And plenty of fireworks, of course, once it gets dark.”

“It does sound like fun,” Lex said, checking the label on another pair of pants.  And it actually did, in a bizarro alternate universe kind of way.  Lex Luthor enjoying bucolic delights.  “You should take the day off.  I think I can live without you for one night.” 

He looked up at Clark to gauge if he had come off sounding magnanimous and not resentful, and caught an unguarded expression in the mirror.

“But…I thought you’d like to come.  You could meet all my friends.  It wouldn’t be weird, I promise,” Clark pouted. 

Pouted.

Lex felt a little stunned.  Did Clark just ask him on a date?  “I normally just watch the display from the penthouse,” he responded automatically.

“Yeah, I bet you’ve got a great view,” Clark shed his leather and pulled the pants from frozen hands.  “Well, that’s okay.  I haven’t seen the city’s display since I was a kid.  That’s always been my favorite part of the 4^th, anyway.”

Lex watched him pull up the second pair, his mind belatedly catching up to their conversation. 

Clark had asked him on a date.  And he’d…declined apparently.

Lex was having a hard time processing the possibility.  Was Clark developing romantic feelings for him?  It seemed improbable, given the nature of their relationship, but Clark was…Clark.  Lex really hadn’t ever met anyone like him.  He hadn’t seen this coming, hadn’t picked up on Clark’s interest and couldn’t understand the motivations behind it.  Emotions were not an issue.  The naive boy wore them on his sleeve. But the underlying forces that drove him to feel more than a casual tolerance for Lex in this arrangement?  Well, Lex couldn’t fathom where the boy had found encouragement.  Certainly not from Lex himself.  He’d been far too careful of Clark’s fragile innocence to have led him on in any way.

And why was he thinking about how Clark felt right now, anyway?  The salient question was how he himself felt.  And frankly, he had no idea.

The time he spent with Clark was the most enjoyable part of his days, and not just the sex, which was pretty goddamn good.  Which admittedly made it even more unusual that it was the hours before they went to bed that Lex looked forward to.  Since Lionel’s visit five days ago, Clark had made Lex’s office sofa home, reading quietly while Lex worked.  It was a kind of easy companionship that Lex had never experienced. At times he could almost forget that Clark was being paid for his time.

But he was being paid.  He had to be as aware of that as Lex was.  Lex shook his head at his own self-indulgence.  Of course, Clark was only being polite.  That’s who Clark was.

“Clark, really.  I don’t mind if you want to spend the day with your friends.”

“I will be with a friend.” Clark offered one of those sunny smiles that lit the window-less room, dimples and all, and Lex found him self grinning back.  He could almost believe it were true.  “Hey, maybe we could do something special to celebrate.”

“Special?”

“Yeah, like…I don’t know,” Clark purred, stalking towards him.  “Order a pizza or something?”

“Let me guess,” Lex replied drolly, “You’re hungry again.”

Clark pressed his mouth to Lex’s, laughing against his smiling lips.  “You know me so well.”

Lex pulled back, shaking his head again.  He’d like to know Clark well, but they weren’t there yet.

He bent down and started gathering the discarded clothing, tossing it into two separate piles.  “Well, why don’t we settle up here and go have dinner?  I could eat something as well.”

“Yeah, how’d you get them to stay open so late, anyway?”

Lex tossed a condescending smirk over his shoulder.  “They wouldn’t dare refuse me.  I spend a great deal of money here.”  This boutique really did have some of the hottest designers represented.  “What about this, Clark?” he asked, holding up a pale green cashmere sweater.  “It looked great on you, but it’s too heavy for summer…  Might as well pick it up, though.  You’ll need some dress clothes at University this fall.” He decided the issue and threw it in the ‘keeper’ pile.

“Lex!” He turned to find the cause of Clark’s obvious dismay and found him staring down at the growing mound of clothes.  “You’re not planning to buy me all that, are you?  It’s too much.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Those leather pants alone cost more than everything in my closet right now!”  Clark was becoming seriously agitated.  “It’s just one night of clubbing, right?”

“Clark, relax.  The expense means nothing to me.  We have almost three weeks left.  Clubbing this weekend, who knows what else after that.”  He stepped forward and pressed Clark back against the wall, his hands cupping the strong jaw.  “Let me do this for you, okay?  It’s something I want.”

Emotions warred in Clark’s expressive eyes.  He’d been opposed to allowing Lex to buy him any clothing, saying it wasn’t part of their agreement, worried about Lex’s extra expense, but Lex had insisted, using the nightclub excursion as an excuse, when in reality he only wanted to treat the boy who was always so willing to please him.  He hoped that fact would sway Clark from his ethical dilemma.

“Well, I guess… I guess if it makes you happy…”

“It does, Clark,” he assured and leaned in to taste Clark’s acquiescence.

**********

Lex had popped a pill before calling for the limo, shaking his head at Clark's offer of a bottle of water to swallow it with. "No, I like it undiluted," Lex had said with a Cheshire grin that told him Lex hadn't been swallowing aspirin for another of his headaches.

Bolder now that he was about to step out from under the veil of the penthouse and into a part of Lex's real life, Clark climbed into the limo and leaned carefully back into the leather seat, choosing his words how he thought Lex must choose all of his. With purpose, clarity and economy.

"What was it, Lex?" He needed to know. Just in case.

"Why? Is the small town boy curious enough to try it himself?" Lex leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees, sexy little smile charming its way straight into Clark's pants before he could command his body to resist. At his incredulous look, Lex leaned back, slumping in the seat, hands tucking into his pockets.
 
Clark looked away, squinting, as if he were trying to see through the tinted glass to the right of Lex's body. "I'm not that sheltered, Lex. And not that stupid either. Just tell me what it was.”

Lex slithered – there was no other word for the drowsy, liquid way he moved low to the floor of the limo – over to his seat and climbed on top of Clark's lap, thighs spread in a V over Clark's own. One long, slow lick wetted Clark's face from collar to eye and Lex leaned back laughing, ass pressing against Clark's legs. "Guess."

Cool hands tugged his shirt out of his leather pants to slip up, awakening Clark's skin with icy fingertips that traced ragged, fast lines, then closed to pinch his nipples.

His back straightened and his mouth fell open with the mind-bending sensation of a squirming, untamed Lex on his lap, hands busy and breath coming in hard pulls already.

Lex's wits apparently hadn't been dulled by the drugs; he claimed Clark's open mouth, tongue diving deep and fast, pointed into a sharp, strong tool that touched so far inside his mouth that he thought maybe if he swallowed, Lex would just disappear.

At the first pause for gulping breaths from both of them, Lex teased, "Well? What do you think?"

He didn't really want to bring Lex down from the altitude he was soaring at, but he wanted Lex to know that he wasn't ignorant. The novelty of his youth and innocence had probably been worn thin by the hours they'd passed with senseless, uninhibited fucking, with Lex teaching him things he never even knew he'd wanted to learn.  He'd lost too much innocence lately to let Lex believe that was all his money had bought.

He'd been in Metropolis enough to know what designer drugs floated around the clubs. He'd saved too many junkies and seen too many men with wide, bloodshot eyes and unsteady legs to miss the signs. Lex wasn't an addict – probably wasn't even disposed to becoming one – but his behavior was just a little too uninhibited already.

“X? Jesus, Lex.” Clark shook his head, trying to ignore the hands that gently groped over his body, the strong thighs squeezing his own. “I can’t believe you do drugs. Don’t you know what ecstasy does to your brain?”

The heel of Lex’s hand pressed hard into Clark’s cock, rubbing slow, irresistible circles that had him hard in seconds, despite his disapproval of Lex’s motivation. 

“I know what it does to my cock.” Lex licked his lips, then flopped onto the leather next to him, knees falling open and hand reaching down to unzip his own fly. "I'm tense, Clark."

And just like that, they were back in their roles. Clark didn’t mind so much though, since the pill was already dissolving into Lex’s bloodstream and taking effect. He’d have to ride out the next few hours, keeping a close watch on Lex, who looked over at him expectantly.

By the time Clark was on his knees, pants unfastened to display his own hard length for Lex, Lex's head was lying back on the seat, his eyes closed and hand reaching unsteadily out to grasp in Clark's hair as it always did. Clark reached up and guided the hand to the back of his head, then wet his lips and sank down on the half-hard cock that lay neglected and waiting for him.

Clark flexed the muscles of his neck and held still as Lex snapped to life under his ministrations, hips bucking fast and desperate up into his mouth as he sucked and swallowed. Lex's other hand tangled in his hair too and he stopped all efforts to please Lex. This was how Lex liked to fuck when he was thinking about business. Hard and fast – get the pleasure out of the way so it wouldn't distract him as he worked, or sulked in the most private, defensive way Clark had ever seen anyone feel sorry for themselves.

Cock bumping against his throat, he closed his eyes and gave up the control Lex was looking for. The hands on his head squeezed hard, thumbs digging into his temples. Lex groaned over his head, teeth clenched and eyes fierce like he was punishing Clark, or himself. Clark swallowed hard and Lex came violently, hips bucking wildly, ass lifting high off the leather seat, his cry edged with an agony that twisted the pleasure into something else. Maybe tonight, pain was part of the pleasure for Lex.

Maybe it always was.

**********

“’Fiddich – neat.”

Clark shoved Lex aside, then grabbed his sleeve, steadying him when he faltered just a little. He yelled across the bar before the man could start pouring Lex’s drink. “Hey, wait! He’ll have water – bottled, whatever’s most expensive – and so will I.”

“I ordered scotch, Clark.”

 “Water, Lex, and no arguments.” Clark leaned down, yelling his frustration in Lex’s ear. “You know you shouldn’t drink alcohol on top of that stuff.”

The barkeep returned with their water and Lex glared up at him, twisting the top off of his and taking a long drink. Bottles in hand, they leaned back against the bar at Epitaph and watched the myriad  limbs moving in time with the thumping bass of a song that should never have been covered by anyone.

It was weird being here again, with Lex.  As Lex’s…not date.  Clark recognized some of the faces in the crowd, mostly looking him over like their next meal, which he’d kind of gotten used to before, but now there were other looks.  Envious looks that he thought were because of Lex.  And knowing looks, too.  The collar felt really tight around his throat, and he stole a glance at his companion.

A strobe of blue light flashed across Lex's face, his eyes staring eerily into the bright light, the clear pale blue highlighted in a way that made him look like Clark's idea of sinister. He smirked at the ridiculous idea and sighed at Lex's next sluggish blink, the drug-induced delay of Lex's reactions pulling fingernails down the chalkboard of Clark's already raw nerves.

Clark looked away, couldn't stand to witness the altered state that made Lex seem... pliable. The loose exterior, the eyes that looked without restraint, the hand that swept over his head, the fingers that pecked the bass rhythm on the lid of his water bottle – it wasn’t real. Lex’s entire demeanor lied, and Clark despised that something in Lex needed the drugs to find this kind of freedom.

As he watched the crowd, carefully avoiding the eyes that played too much for his comfort, Clark felt someone watching him – and it wasn’t Lex.

Trying to be casual, he scanned the room and met a hazel stare and a wide smile. Not wanting to seem bashful or embarrassed, Clark held the gaze and smiled back, reflexively stepping closer to Lex until his elbow was bumping into Lex's arm, establishing his loyalty.  After a long moment he turned to look at Lex.

But Lex was watching the man too, a hungry focus obvious in his eyes. "He's beautiful isn't he? Look, he's taking his shirt off for you, Clark." Lex was close, his lips barely touching Clark's ear, yelling louder than he had to, voice just a little... off.

Clark looked up as the man across the room peeled off his shimmery shirt and tossed it into the dark recesses by the wall. Tan, golden skin threw tiny gleaming spots of light from sweat and what Clark guessed must be some kind of glitter. Even through the pounding thump of bass, Clark heard Lex suck in a breath, then realized with a start that no, it must have been him that had gasped. Lex was snaking an arm around Clark’s waist – cool, collected, taking a drink to hide a sexy smirk. 

Muscles flexing and pulling under the smooth, brilliant dazzle of skin, the man began inching his way towards them, never slowing or stopping the perfect movement of his legs and arms to the beat of the music.  His wavy mop of blond hair shone bright in the flashes of the moving lights, tiny damp tendrils sweat-sticking to the sides of his face, inviting any and all to reach out and feel the softness of the loose curls. A stray lock fell forward as the man slid between two other men, grinding up against one of them while the other moved eager hands up his back.

Clark’s hand went to his own hair, an unconscious move to tuck away the lock that had fallen forward on the man’s face. He could feel it tickling his face as the man threw his head back, exposing a long, sumptuous throat. Clark wanted to touch his hair, to run his fingers slowly through the silky length of it, to bury his face in it and smell it. He closed his eyes and licked his lips... coconut and clean filled his fantasy senses as he took a deep breath.

No. 

The smooth, sweat-slick skin of Lex’s scalp wouldn’t tangle in his mouth as he licked it, wouldn’t ever be dirty or knotted or get in their way as they fucked.

But looking wasn’t touching; it wasn’t betraying.

A quick glance from Lex gave Clark the permission he wouldn't ask for, and they both turned back to watch the firm, talented body moving closer.

Clark envied the man, strong cheekbones stunning and chin square and confident, dancing because he wanted to, because maybe he had to – no inhibitions and no doubts to get in the way of just moving that body. Clark wanted that – wanted to be that way – wanted to have everyone’s eyes on him but so many things were holding him back, keeping him rooted at the bar, body tense with the need to just move, but locked by Lex's side.

Lex's side, where he wanted to be, he reminded himself, but now he wanted this too, wanted to know what it felt like to be so free and unchained and admired. It wasn’t even that he wanted everyone staring, mouths open as he passed. He wanted Lex to look at him the way he was looking at that man.

"You want him."  Loud and vibrating hard in his ear, Lex's voice snapped him guiltily from the thoughts.

But it wasn't an admonishment. It was... something very different.

Clark shook his head, denying the possibility he didn't even want to consider. "No... I–” Clark swallowed hard, steadying his voice. “He's just so..."

"Confident.”

“Yes.”

“And sexy."

"Yes..." It hissed out before Clark could stop it, before he could tear his eyes away and turn his back, resist the desire that Lex was fueling with his words.

Clark took a long drink of water, then pushed the empty bottle across the bar and nodded to the bartender for another. He wiped his lips on the back of his hand and turned back to Lex, hoping damage wasn't already done.

"Lex, let's just go–” But Lex was already gone, the air beside him swirling with the scent of cologne.

Clark glanced up reluctantly, knowing what he was going to see.

Lex, body moving against the man’s, hands spreading and sliding up that glistening chest as they moved together. Clark couldn’t make himself look away when Lex’s chin tilted up to meet the full, blush lips that lowered to meet his. It wasn't a kiss though – not quite. Lex turned his face at the last second, yelling into the man's ear instead.

But in his shock, Clark wasn't fast enough, couldn't focus through the music and confusion that slowed his reaction. He didn't hear what was said, but his stomach sank when the man reached down, pulling Lex’s swaying hips flush with his, grinding against him and smiling over Lex's shoulder at Clark, a taunting look on his face.

Clark sighed with relief as the man turned and walked away, disappearing into the jumble of dancers at the center of the club.

Lex came back to him then, grinning like the cat that ate the mouse, limbs just a little looser than they had been – a little less control in his step. One hand closed over his shoulder and Clark leaned down, offering his ear.

"Follow me."

That was it. 'Follow me' and nothing else – a command from Lex, who only commanded him when it came to sex, when it came down to control and power and submission.

Uneasy but curious, Clark followed, trailing along through the ragged path that Lex sliced all the way to the back of the club, to a corner where a large door opened before Lex even knocked.

They walked past the door attendant, who sat back down on a stool, looking completely bored and just a little decadent. Lex led him down a short hallway dotted with more doors, until they stopped in front of one and this time Lex opened it himself, stepping aside and waving Clark into the dark room.

But here? Now? There were so many things that could be waiting in the dark shadows of the room. Chains, handcuffs that he'd have to pretend worked…whips that couldn’t touch his invulnerable skin....a blindfold he’d not dare to look through.  Anything, he’d promised.

It was the last thing he expected, the last thing he thought Lex would ask of him on their first night out together.

A dim glow emphasized the lack of light in the room. It was warm, no hint of a breeze, but he could taste the scent of leather in the air. Clark's fingers went to his throat, connecting with the metal medallion that moved each time he swallowed. He ran his fingers along the circle of leather, then let them drop. He stood still, cock swelling at the thought of the chain that had never seemed to warm against his skin as Lex had fucked him.

Anticipation eating away at him, Clark relented and slowly looked around as Lex watched him, waiting for a reaction. A small sound drew his attention to the back of the room, and Clark bit his lips to keep from making a noise.

The man, the one that Clark had so wanted to be, was lying on his stomach on what looked like a metallic surgeon's table, still as stone and facing away from him and Lex. He was naked and beautiful, the low light holding him there, painting shadows along the muscles of his legs and buttocks, back and shoulders.

Clark's blood pounded in his ears and he turned his back, facing Lex, centering himself on the thing he knew, the person he was with.

"Le–” Clark bit back the name, uncertain about using it in this part of the club. "What is he–”

"Shhh..." A finger pressed hard on his lips and dragged down off his chin, pulling his bottom lip a little. "Let me do the talking in here."

"But–”

Lex sent him a warning look, silencing him before he could protest any further. Clark reached out to grab a sleeve as Lex stepped away from him, but he missed by an inch and he was left to wait – to see what Lex was up to. He shook his head in silent protest as Lex approached the table, hands gripping around the metal edges, sliding down alongside the length of the man's body, but not touching it.

"It's okay. You can come closer." Lex sounded soothing, patient, but if felt wrong; it felt too much like temptation.

"No, I don't want to. Can we just..." Clark's lips froze, open with the word hanging on his tongue as Lex leaned over the man's back and sucked on his shoulder. The body reacted, muscles stretching and flexing with what Clark knew was relief. A moan echoed in the room, just above the faded sound of the music from the club, burning in his ears. "...go. Let's go. Please."

Lex straightened, not acknowledging Clark at all, but instead pulling his shirttail from his pants, movements slow and sluggish. Clark closed his eyes, denying the fact that the rustling of fabric told him. Shaking his head, he opened his eyes again and found Lex, his shirt hanging open, cuffs unbuttoned, sweat-slick skin reflecting the soft light. Lex's shirt floated in slow-motion to the floor as he turned to look at Clark.

"Taste him." Pale blue eyes glinting, Lex nodded toward the man on the table, tongue flashing out to lick his lips.

Clark's heart swelled in his throat and he swallowed hard, hands clenching at his sides. A part of him wanted to. He could do it, he could just walk over and do it – lick that hard, toned body, taste the salty burst of dance-sweat on his tongue, share this with Lex. He stepped closer and Lex's face lit up with a devious smile, one Clark did his best to return.

Lex wanted to play and had provided a tempting enough toy, but Clark wasn't in the mood for games with more than two players. In fact, he couldn't imagine ever sharing Lex at all. His pulse quickened at the thought of that man taking pleasure that was meant to be his.

He caught Lex's hand in a steely grip, knew it was too tight even as he squeezed and Lex's mouth flew open to say something clever and sexy. He closed his mouth on it before Lex could speak, tongue delving deep to indulge in the taste of the man that lay silent beside them, waiting.

Lex pulled away, lips curving in like he was savoring the kiss, recovering from it. He shook his head, laughing low and angry, and reached out to run the back of his hand over the man's bare ass and down his thigh. "He's beautiful, isn't he?"

Clark shrugged in case Lex was watching for a reaction. He turned his back on both of them, sparing himself from the harsh reality of Lex's hands on another man right there in front of him.

And then he couldn't not focus on the barely audible slide of skin against skin, the slow whisper of Lex's fingertips flowing like water over the man's body. Lex was touching him, feeling that skin that had to be warm – hot – from exertion and moving under the touches, wired with anticipation.

"Do you want to lie there for me instead, Clark?  Obedient and silent. Nerves raw and open, waiting for my touch?" Lex's voice purred into his ear and a cool hand slid up the back of his shirt, pulling it up, then coming around to rub hard on his cock as Lex's chest pressed against his bare back.

The hand rubbed harder over his crotch, the lips on his ear biting and tugging the lobe between Lex’s words. Clark's tension melted under the stroking on his confined erection, and he let his head tilt into the mouth that spilled temptation like a fount.

“Look at him, Clark.” Lex’s other arm wrapped around his chest, urging him to turn so they faced the table again.

Clark hesitantly looked, eyes filling with naked skin that still glistened, even in the dim light. It was too much beauty, too tempting with Lex’s permission and seduction breathing against his neck. He blinked, looking off to the side, and Lex’s voice faded to a low, sexy whisper.

“It’s okay, Clark. Look at him.” Lex pulled his zipper down and fingers slid inside the waistband of his boxers, wrapping tightly around his cock. “He’s all yours, and he’s up for anything,... just like you.”

Clark’s mouth opened, slack with the heat that stroked along his crotch, with the sight of the body stretching long and lean and rocking, moving gently against the metal table.

The man shifted his hips, the toes of one foot curling under for leverage as he moved, rubbing himself on the table. His back flexed as he pushed his hips down against the metal that Clark could almost feel, cold and hard against his skin.

"How long would you last like that for me? Vulnerable and hard, dreading every second that I deny you pleasure. Would you grind into the table like that?"

"No, Lex." His voice was broken and Clark squeezed his eyes closed tight, blushing his shame at having to resist the urge to watch.

"No, you'd be good.  You'd wait for me, wouldn't you?"  Lex's hand slipped lower, fingers fondling his balls, the heel of his hand pressing hard against the base of Clark's erection. "It's okay to want him, Clark – to wonder what another man's cock would taste like, feel like between your lips."

The low whisper in his ear slitted his eyes open with a slow, hesitant curiosity. He looked down at the hand buried in his pants, then let his head fall back on Lex's shoulder as another hand slid up his chest to gently squeeze and tug his nipples. From under his lashes, he watched the man on the table rub slow, long lines against it.
Lex licked into his ear, warm breath pulling the heat up his spine as he spoke. "He might fuck you softer... deeper than I do. He might lick you longer, rim you for hours instead of stopping to fuck you."
The hand on his cock squeezed hard and he moaned, blushing hot when the man on the table echoed the sound.

He felt Lex smile against his ear. His eyes rolled up into his head with the breath of Lex's voice on his neck, "You could taste him, lick him open and slide inside. Feel him warm and tight around your cock. I know you want it, Clark."

Clark shook his head, rocking his hips into Lex's hand, desperate for the sensations he was being teased with.

Teeth nibbled his neck, then Lex sucked hard, the perfect O of tingling nerves under the mouth burning as Lex pulled off and whispered, "He wants you to fuck him."

"I don't want him." It was an obvious lie and the hand on his cock was yanked away, leaving a cool emptiness behind as his cock hung thick and heavy out of his open pants.

Clark thought Lex would be mad, but instead, he stepped in front of Clark, sinking to his knees, lips moving, opening inches away from his cock. "There’s no reason to lie to me. I know you want him." The warm breath on his cock made him harder, made him jump with the first lick of Lex's tongue.

Too hard and way too late to deny his arousal, Clark sighed and closed his eyes, one hand resting hesitantly on Lex's cheek.

"Open your eyes, Clark."

But he couldn't, he didn't want to. He wanted them alone like this, alone with Lex that close, sucking him hard and letting him sink into the soft heat that would bring him off fast and hard and fill him with the power and confidence the man on the table had. No, he didn't want to open his eyes.

One long, thick stroke of Lex's tongue along his shaft and Clark groaned as Lex pulled back. "Open your eyes. Look at him."

"No... please,” His hips rocked forward, seeking the warm wet of Lex's mouth.

"Look at him." Lex’s mouth closed finally, tight and sucking so hard Clark couldn't breathe.  Then it slipped off again and left him aching, cock bobbing in thin air. "Look at him or I'll stop."

"God, Le– Fine, I'll– uhh..." Lex's mouth closed over his cock again as he opened his eyes and looked at the man on the table. The guy was gripping the edges of the metal, knuckles white. He turned his head and looked at them, eyes slowly dropping from Clark’s face to his cock, to Lex sucking his cock.

Lex's hands closed on the backs of his thighs, pulling his pants down, fingers tickling through the light hair on them. The man on the table licked his lips and eased his body over, rolling onto his side, eyes never leaving Clark's body. The heat in those eyes, the low moan that Clark knew was for him – for just the sight of him – sent chills down his spine.

Lex leaned away again, hands tightening on the backs of Clark’s legs, red, wet lips smiling up at him as he groaned in protest. Lex turned and looked over his shoulder at the man. "Touch yourself."

Clark's eyes flew wide at the command and his fingers twitched for a split second – he was used to that order being for him.
 
"And you – shirt." Clark looked into the mischievous smile and crossed his arms down over his chest, pulling his shirt off and trying to concentrate on Lex's red, blurring lips instead of the hand that moved in a slow, steady rhythm in the corner of his vision.

"Watch him. He's jacking off for you, Clark. He wants you as much as you want him."

The sheath of moist heat closed around his cock again and he wrapped his hands on either side of Lex's head, mind blurring as he drank in the sight of his cock fucking slowly in and out of Lex's mouth.

Blue eyes flashed open and up at his and he knew the command that lay behind them. He looked up grudgingly obeying Lex, paying the price Lex demanded for the pleasure he was giving.

The man's eyes locked on his, holding him there as Lex's tongue swirled around the tip of his cock, slipping under his foreskin with a ticklish, sexy caress. The man on the table lifted his hand to his mouth, licking a stripe down his palm then closed his hand back over his cock, jacking himself faster, harder, in cadence with Lex's rhythm.

Clark moaned, letting his heavy lids fall closed for a second before Lex swallowed and they snapped open, completely filled with the sight of the naked man thrusting up into his fist, mouth hanging open as he watched Lex suck him off.

"Oh, God." Clark rolled his hips, wanting to resist the sight of golden muscles flexing and bury himself in the memory of so much white skin, but he couldn't, he couldn't force himself to think of anything else now. So close, so fucking good and hot, incredibly hot to just let go and feel, let himself watch as the guy's cock pumped harder, faster into the tight circle of his fist.

The tight squeeze of Lex's mouth disappeared and Clark’s head swam with the ache it left behind.

Lex stood, mouth closing fast and hard on his, tongue thrusting in violently before releasing his lips and shoving him towards the table. "Take him, Clark."

"Wha...what?"

"Take him,” pale brows rose in a mocking challenge.  “Fuck him."

"No! What are you– No!" Clark shook his head, stumbling back away from Lex and the table and the man whose muscles rippled as he propped himself up on one elbow, turning to watch them.

"I said. Fuck. Him." Lex's hands closed hard on his neck, eyes fierce and mouth pinched. Clark jerked from the grasp, his body screaming with the urge to run.

He reached down and snatched up his shirt, yanking it on over his head before tucking his half-hard cock away and fastening his pants. "Fuck you, Lex."

Lex stood there, eyes blazing and a small smile curving on his lips. "So we've finally defined 'anything,' have we?"

"Jesus! What the fuck's wrong with – yeah, Lex – anything.  With you, not him.”  Clark turned on his heel, striding to the door, pausing to throw one last retort over his shoulder. “He’s not the one paying me."  He hoped it bit hard enough to bleed.

The guy on the table fell back, his head banging on the metal, sighing his impatience. Lex didn't even seem to remember he was there, moving towards Clark with a speed that made him almost jump with tension.

Lex grabbed his jaw, pulling him down into a hard, punishing kiss. He shoved roughly against Clark's face as he released him. "No, he's not. I am."

Clark's chest constricted, his heart pounding hard against the tightness there. He held Lex's stare for a few seconds, looking for the man he thought he'd gotten to know, to feel more than obligation for.

There was no sign of him behind the crystal blue gaze. Clark nodded, eyes filling with tears. He turned away, flung the door open and walked as fast as he could down the hall, the heavy metal door slamming shut behind him.

**********

Lex knew the minute he woke up that Clark wasn’t going to show up today. 

Or ever again. 

He’d still had hope when he’d fallen into bed in the early hours, used up and aching from too much stimulation and too much everything – while he was still flying on the drugs.  And what the hell had he been thinking to take that shit around Clark in the first place? 

He’d even comforted himself with the sure knowledge that the poor substitute sucking him off in the men’s room would soon enough be Clark again, come crawling back and begging forgiveness for walking out on Lex.

How dare he?  Fucking Smallville nobody.  Bought and paid for, wearing Lex’s mark, snubbing him among what passed for his peers.  Fuck Clark Kent.  That’s what he’d thought when he rolled out of bed, mouth full of cotton, and tacky remains of a half-hearted orgasm in his shorts.  Who needed him?

Still he’d waited at the penthouse until well after one o’clock.  He’d been half an hour late for the appointment with his tailor because of it.  Had suffered Marcus’ pitying solicitousness when he’d remarked too sharply that Mr. Kent wouldn’t make his fitting after all.

An hour of fencing drills at Heiki’s studio hadn’t improved his mood, but that was probably due to his skipping lunch, his stomach refusing to acknowledge the existence of anything resembling hunger.  He’d put too much impetus behind every thrust, compromising his defenses, and had been scored off of again and again.  The strong woman had made him pay for his mistakes, too, throwing him off balance in their final match and sending him hard to the floor.

His father would have added insult to injury, so he could at least be thankful he hadn’t been foolish enough to call him for a match, as he’d first considered with the lingering buzz still dulling his better instincts.

Christ, he understood that he’d crossed the line with Clark last night.  Handled gently, Clark would do almost anything he asked.  Only Lex hadn’t been careful with Clark.  He’d insulted and abused him, and for no good reason, when he knew Clark wasn’t built that way.

He walked the block to his car without seeing the quaint neighborhood’s expensive store fronts, native sandstone facades on centuries-old buildings.

The irony was, he hadn’t even wanted to see Clark fuck that man.  It would have ended badly even if Clark had taken him up on his offer.  Especially if he had.  But Lex had had to know for sure.

Clark had passed his test, while he’d failed Clark’s.

He stopped short in the middle of the busy sidewalk, understanding that calling Clark, attempting to make amends – it was something he was going to do.  He hadn’t grown tired of the boy yet.  Besides, he never burned bridges when he could avoid it.

Without further deliberation he flipped open his mobile phone and called directory assistance for the number.  His service dialed the number automatically, but he memorized it in case he was cut off.

A bright female voice answered “Kent Orchard.”  An honest voice and Lex felt an almost immobilizing surge of shame well up in his throat.  Momentarily speechless, he nearly disconnected the call, but his attention was caught by the sound of Clark speaking in the background, across the distance, “–smells great, Mom."

"Is Clark available?"

"Yes, just a moment...honey – it's for you."

"When’s dinner?  I’m starving…Hello?"

"You're late."

"Lex?"  Only it wasn’t a question, it was a stall.  Clark wasn't expecting him to call, but then, he was rather surprised himself.

"Is there someone else you're blowing off today?"

"Um...hold on a sec...Mom, I'll take this upstairs, okay?"

Low voices fuzzed in the distance, muffled by Clark's hand and a moment later, Clark was picking up the other line and yelling "Got it!" into Lex's ear.  Clark waited for the tell-tale click before mumbling an uncertain, "Hey, Lex." 

"Clark," he replied noncommittally.  He really sucked at apologies. 

"Um, what do you want?"

"I want you, Clark.  Here."  Lex jerked his sleeve up, checking his watch superfluously. "Six and a half hours ago."

Lex could almost see Clark’s indignant expression, as he answered tersely, "Well, I guess you can't always get what you want."

Lex wondered if Clark had the same Stones tune playing in his head now, and if the sub-textual taunt was deliberate.  Because that was really much more concerning than the surface jibe, even considering Clark's snotty tone of voice. 

The idea that Clark might possibly suspect him of needing him, or understand Lex’s fear of that possibility, or worse, Lex’s fear of Clark’s understanding of the fear… well, it was all suddenly starkly terrifying.  He considered disconnecting the call on the little fucker, but didn't feel confident that he wouldn't ultimately be forced to apologize for that, too.  

He was completely screwed.

"Clark, I'm sorry.  Last night…I was out of line."  Lex held his breath waiting for Clark’s response.

A timorous sigh sounded in his ear.  “I just…I don’t want that, Lex.  I don’t want to be with anyone but you.”  Clark’s voice pitched higher as he gained momentum, plowing recklessly into uncharted territory.  “I know I promised ‘anything’ but…just us, okay?  And no more drugs, not when I’m around.  Otherwise, I don’t think I can do this.”

“Clark, that’s fine.” 

"I was planning on sending you your money back."

"Clark –"

"Mom needed me to help out around here this morning, and I couldn’t get to the bank."

"Clark, enough."  Lex was careful to keep his voice soft and patient, "I don't care about the money.  I'd like to have you for the remainder of our agreement if you're still available."

"If I'm available?"  Clark was teasing him under his tone of thoughtful consideration.  “Well, I don’t know, Lex.  Bruce Wayne put an ad in the paper for a similar position and I’m interviewing with him tomorrow.  Could you provide me a reference?”

"Okay, smartass," Lex grinned into the phone for a long moment, not caring if he looked silly to the early evening strollers - men and women with their packages, a few couples out on Saturday night dinner dates.   One woman gave him a warm smile and tucked into her boyfriend’s embrace as they passed him.

He couldn't believe it could be this easy, knew he didn't deserve it to be.

Lex stepped out of the flow of foot traffic, looking idly at the trays of watches displayed in a jeweler’s window – a shop he’d always meant to stop in.  "I want to see you tonight,” he said, voice low and husky.  “Can you still make it?"

“Yeah.”  Clark’s soft voice sounded almost wistful.  Lex wished he could see the blush he knew was riding on the high cheekbones.  "I'll head out right now."

"There's just one thing, Clark," Lex said seriously, knowing Clark was waiting for the shoe to drop, "I hate to say anything, but...you're eating me out of house and home.  What are the chances your mother might feed you before you hit the road?"

Clark laughed out loud this time.  "Very funny, Lex.  But yeah, I am pretty hungry.  So – I guess I might be kind of late."  Frustration carried over the line.

"I'll see you when you get here."

"Okay.  Bye, Lex, and – I'm really glad you called."

Lex disconnected the call, dropping the slim phone into his pocket.  It would be hours before Clark could get from Smallville to Metropolis even if he eschewed his normal habit of riding the bus, and asked his mother to borrow the car.  He ducked into a jeweler's cool, dim shop, visions of a laughing, forgiving Clark doing strangely pleasant things to the pit of his stomach.

**********

Strong, careful hands pulled him from the warmth of groggy sleep, the touches a delicious ache that emphasized the soreness of his limbs.  Clark.  “Mmmm.”

Lex reluctantly opened his eyes and rolled to face Clark, wincing at the sharp pain in his side.

“Lex, what’s wrong?”  Clark pulled the covers off him, revealing darkly bruised ribs.  “Jeez, Lex!  What happened?  Did that guy do something to you last night?”

The young man’s voice was full of anger and concern for his well-being and Lex smiled through the haze of painkillers he’d taken before crawling in bed to wait for him.  “You have too many clothes on, Clark.”

He got an exasperated sigh for his observation.  “Lex, tell me – what happened?”

Lex struggled to sit up, reaching for the hem of Clark’s shirt.  Recognizing that his resistance was futile, Clark stood and stripped, standing beside the bed until Lex answered him before crawling in beside him.

“It’s nothing.  Just a fall I took while training today.” Lex lay back down and waited for Clark to settle carefully beside him.  “You won’t break me, Clark,” he hinted before he was engulfed in a tentative embrace.

“Mmmm.”

“Lex, did you take something?  You said you wouldn’t…”  A large, warm hand palmed his scalp, stroking him like something fragile.  “…and you’re acting kind of strange.  Stranger, I mean.”

“Don’t worry, it was doctor prescribed.”  Lex giggled, cleared his throat abruptly, then giggled again.  Well, Toby had passed the boards, and on his first try, too.

“Well…okay, then.”  Clark didn’t sound 100% convinced, but it didn’t matter.  Not so long as he kept touching Lex.  Heated hands skating across his skin, lightly massaging the length of his spine – vertebra by vertebra – discreet kisses pressed to his brow and temple after his breath evened enough for Clark to imagine him asleep again. 

And then he felt himself drifting off, nestled warm and secure in Clark’s embrace. 

**********

A warm, wet slide of lips pulling on his cock tugged Clark up from the dream-dazed sleepiness that scratched in his eyes and weighed on his limbs. He stretched relaxed, languid muscles and flexed his toes as the mouth sucked slowly and steadily on his already straining erection, then disappeared, replaced by the warmth of a flushed cheek lying low on his belly.

“Morning, Clark.”

Lex’s lips opened against him, tongue licking a slow, broad line of cool wetness up Clark’s length as he lifted his head, tired eyes slitting open to watch.

He closed them again and held on to the sleepy haze, willing his mind back to the now fleeting dream images of him and Lex doing oh-so-many sexy things. A low, hungry moan vibrated around his cock, and Clark sank deeper into a slow-motion dream of Lex on his knees, sucking harder and harder until his cock was fucking deep into Lex’s throat.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut as teeth slid, barely scraping along his foreskin. Lex’s tongue slipped up underneath the hood, slowly circling the head of his cock. 

“Oh God, yes...” Clark bit his lip and groaned loudly, shaking his head back and forth on the pillow in protest at the broken silence. His head spun with the wet, soft heat of Lex’s tongue. The tip of Lex’s nose dug into his belly as Clark took a deep breath and pleaded for more. Lex loved him to beg and Clark reveled in his power to make Lex lose control, “Suck, oh God... suck harder. Please... yes... just like that...”

Feet arching and curling with the waves of pleasure that burned down his legs, Clark groaned as Lex sucked harder, inching down until it pressed into Lex’s throat. Lex pulled off, meeting Clark’s pained, protesting gaze as he sucked his own thumb.  Clark’s head rolled back, moaning his approval when Lex moved to press the thumb into him.  A moment later the wet, tight heat of Lex’s mouth was sucking him again while the thumb fucked him gently, pushing and pulling inside him until he wanted more, until he couldn’t stand the ache each pull out left behind.

Hard breath tickled on Clark’s stomach and he pushed up into Lex’s throat, unable and unwilling to wait any longer. “Lex, please. Oh... oh God, yes... fuck... fuck me, please.”

Lex’s moan vibrated on his cock, lassoing and tightening every muscle in his groin. Clark released the sheets in his hands and balled them into fists of forced control before opening them wide on either side of Lex’s head. The hard pull on his cock took him over the edge and he plunged into the release, pouring himself down Lex’s throat, groaning and holding every muscle taut until the final aftershock was gone.

The thumb slipped out of him and Clark sighed heavily, sounding for all the world like a forlorn lover but he didn’t care, didn’t care about anything but seeing Lex, kissing him and tasting himself on those lips and returning the favor a hundred-fold.

Lex scooted up his body, mouth closing on his as they found grooves to tuck their hands into, curling together in an easy, lazy embrace as they kissed.

They’d slept almost like this, entwined, Clark waking every few hours to touch the warm, bare skin that always arched into his fingers. Even asleep, Lex’s body was used to him now, answering his pleas for constant contact with the gently rocking of his hips against Clark’s ass as he slept.

Clark wondered if Lex knew how many times he’d gotten hard in the night, how many times Clark had reached behind them both, his hand spreading on Lex’s ass to pull them tighter together, to encourage the soft, shallow rubbing that had left Clark whispering moans against the silence of the dark hours of morning.

Now, awake and remembering the sweet, slow strokes of Lex’s hard cock against his ass, Clark squirmed closer, whining a protest as Lex rolled gently away from him, sitting up on the edge of the bed and reaching for the nightstand, opening the drawer.

Lex handed him a small box, his face revealing nothing.

Clark fumbled with the lid until it slid off the box, and dropped it to the bed as he reached into the box. A watch gleamed in the soft, curtained light of the room, and what could only be a diamond glinting back at him from just below twelve o'clock.

It was gorgeous, something he would never have picked for himself, but somehow it suited his taste perfectly. Simple and straightforward. Lex had clearly had him in mind when he’d chosen it.

But five little letters at the bottom of the face made him force the smile that he knew Lex expected. He kept his voice steady and soft as he spoke. “What...  what’s this for?”

Lex smiled and stood, his cock hanging heavily between his legs in a temptation Clark wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. But Lex turned, walking towards the bathroom, smirking over his shoulder at Clark as he walked away. “A reminder.  So you won’t be late again.”

Clark fell back on the bed and considered the gift, elated by what he knew was further proof of Lex’s affection.  It was something he would treasure forever, a sentimental reminder of his time with Lex that the clothes and the collar never could be.  Some piece of Lex that he’d always have, even if they never spoke again after their thirty days were over.  But it also meant something else. It meant that these thirty days might just be the beginning of something more. 

He slipped it on his wrist, reveling in the feeling of the cool metal and heavy weight that felt more like a symbol of ownership than the collar Lex had given him.

This felt like something he could count on.

Clark scooted off the bed and walked into the bathroom, pausing at the door to take in the sight of Lex, naked and looking at himself in the mirror, mouth full of white foam as he brushed his teeth.

Stomach gently fluttering his hesitation, Clark stepped up behind the expanse of pure, pale skin, his arms circling around Lex’s waist.

“Thank you. I love it, but you didn’t have to. I mean, you don’t have to give me things. You’re already–”

- paying me.

The words died on his tongue and he ducked his head, lips resting on Lex’s shoulder, eyes closed against the strangely comfortable reflection of the two of them so close and casual.

Clark listened as Lex rinsed his toothbrush and tapped it on the counter, then raised his head as Lex’s damp hand covered his own.

“I know it’s your day off but...” Lex slipped from his embrace, walking to the shower and reaching in to turn the water on. “... I was thinking we might go have breakfast.”

Clark went to the linen closet, pulling out two towels and draping them on the warming rack, his movements a cover for his surprise.  This was the first morning he’d stayed long enough to wake up with Lex, never sure if his continued presence would be welcomed. Now he was being offered even more time.  He could really get used to this. “Sure, if you want to.  I mean…I’d like that.”

Steam spread slowly through the bathroom as Lex stepped in under the spray, skin shining wet and reddening quickly under the heat. Rivulets of water trailed down his face and Clark smiled as Lex shook them off, eyebrows rising and mouth curving into a smile. “Well? Aren’t you coming in?”

**********

Clark stacked another packet of creamer on his miniature pyramid. “So then, I just entered it in the science fair and they picked mine as runner-up. Two semester scholarship to Met U., books and room and board included. The winner got a full scholarship, but I figure this will get me started. After this year, I’ll get a student loan or something.”

“A science fair? That’s how you decided where you were going to college?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, there really wasn’t a choice. I don’t play sports – well, I play, but not on teams. Besides, Met U. is fine with me. I never planned on going away to school. Mom and – Dad – always depended on me.”

Clark lowered his head, fingers busily deconstructing the pyramid of creamer and starting work on the Eiffel tower. He hadn’t meant to talk so much – Lex had more important things to think about than his problems.

“He’d be proud of you, Clark.”

Clark looked up then, slowly shaking his head, wishing Lex was right. “No... no, he wouldn’t. He was... he always tried to teach me right from wrong. This–” Clark waved his hand in the air between them, “this would have killed him.”

“He sounds like he was salt of the earth. That kind of man would be proud of you for taking care of everything. For putting yourself last. Self-sacrifice is very... honorable.” Lex’s gaze seemed to insist he spoke the truth, but Clark shook his head again, clearing his throat, a pained smile forcing his lips apart.

“It’s not all sacrifice though, is it?”

Lex smiled back at him, eyes soft and intense. Clark held them, gently warmed by the sympathy and support behind them. Lex broke the eye contact, reaching over and collecting the creamers from Clark, scooting them out of reach on his side of the table.

“My father must seem like a monster to you.” Lex’s voice was tinged with regret, with a subtle bitterness that Clark frowned at.

He wasn’t sure what to say to that, but Lex was looking at him, waiting for a response. “Well he wasn’t exactly ‘salt of the earth’ the other day, I’ll say that. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like growing up in your house.”

Lex scoffed. “Houses.”

Clark grinned behind his coffee cup. It wasn’t that Lex was trying to sound conceited – he just did. “Right. You don’t look a thing like him, you know.”

Lex nodded and shook his head. “I look like my mother – well,” he ran a hand over his head, “I looked more like her when I had hair.”

“What color was it?”

Lex laughed at the question and Clark grinned, glad it hadn’t rubbed Lex the wrong way. “Red, if you can believe that.”

“So what was it like?” Clark shook his head.  He knew Lex wasn’t fishing for pity and he didn’t want to give it, but he was curious. “I mean, in your houses?”

Lex filled his cup again and took a sip, lips curling in like he was savoring the taste, even though Clark thought it was pretty lousy coffee.

“Stereotypical I guess. Nanny, private schools, furniture you couldn’t sit on. All the really interesting objects locked behind glass cases.  I did have one hell of a comic collection though.”

“Oh, yeah?” Clark leaned back in his chair, smiling. This was the time he loved the most, the time when Lex was his friend, his companion. And technically, he was off the clock, so Lex wasn’t paying him now.

“Yeah, my mom bought me one and it grew from there. I think they’re still around somewhere – probably in storage.”

“What was she like?”

Lex did a double-take, his soft smile fading fast, then his lip quirked up, spreading into a smile again. “She was... incredible. Quiet, but expressive. She used to invent excuses to take me out of school. She wore these dresses that made her look ethereal.” Lex’s eyes flickered to the window as he paused and Clark waited, holding his breath, drinking in the moment. 

“Eggs Benedict?” 

Bright red lipstick caught his eye and Clark looked up, then pointed at Lex. “That’s his.”

The waitress sat Lex’s plate in front of him and grinned down at Clark, smacking her gum. “Then you must be the gravy biscuit with the side of hash browns and blueberry pancakes.”

Lex turned his plate, taking his fork and knife in the wrong hands, holding them in the ready position as he waited for Clark to take the first bite. Clark blushed at the courtesy and quickly shoveled a forkful of hash browns into his mouth.

Lex went to work on his food too, their silence filled with the low notes of classical music.

Clark was glad for their booth in the corner – the small diner was packed. Churchgoers, Clark supposed. A few of them gave him and Lex a second glance, but he wasn’t sure if they were noticing Lex’s bare head or the fact that their feet were touching under the table. Either way, Lex didn’t seem to notice their lingering glances.

Clark washed down the last of his pancakes with a long drink of coffee and smiled into the bottom of the cup, thinking of Lana and Chloe, probably hauling bagels and coffee at this very moment.

“What are you smiling about?” Lex wiped his mouth on his napkin and pushed his plate back.

Clark smirked at the question. “Just thinking about some friends who are working their butts off right now.”

Clark started when Lex leaned forward and took his hand, pulling it across the table, over their plates. 

Lex winked at him as he turned Clark’s wrist back at an uncomfortable angle, checking the time on Clark’s new watch.  He scooted his chair back and stood up. “I have to go – video conference in an hour.”

Clark pulled his wrist back across the table and looked at the watch Lex had given him just a couple of hours ago. The hands were covering the diamond – noon.  He looked up at Lex, disappointed that their time was over. “It’s Sunday, Lex.”

“Not in New Zealand.” Lex flipped open his phone and dialed, then requested that the car be brought around.

When he was set in motion, Lex never stopped, never stilled. Clark sat, watching him with fascination as he pulled his suit jacket on and tossed a fifty onto the table.

Lex’s raised eyebrows made him jerk out of his self-indulgent observation and he stood, scooting his chair back under the table before following Lex out of the diner.

Outside, tall buildings blocked the long rays of the early afternoon sun, but it reflected off mirrored windows and blazed in their eyes as they stopped to wait for the car.

Clark frowned as the limo pulled up and Lex opened the door, waving him impatiently inside. “I think I’m going to catch the bus, Lex. I’ll walk to the stop – you know, stretch my legs.” He patted his stomach and smiled. “Thanks for breakfast.”

Lex smiled back, slipping on his sunglasses and nodding. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

Clark’s gaze dropped to his new watch again, glinting in the bright light, and he smiled at Lex’s idea of a little reminder. “Six sharp – I won’t be late.”

**********

Clark yanked open the drawer to his desk. It was somewhere in the loft, he knew that. He hadn’t taken it in the house – that was for sure.

Maybe it fell out of his pocket when he’d been sleeping on the couch that afternoon. He knelt down and peered under the couch. Just cobwebs and dust.

No collar.

He sat back on his heels, frustrated and worried. Even if Lex hadn’t asked him to wear it since their night at the club, it wasn’t the kind of thing you wanted to misplace.  He closed his eyes and sighed in exasperation.

“I know what you’re looking for.”

Clark jumped, pushing up fast from the wood planks and shaking his head at his mother’s sober face. “I’m not looking for anything,” he lied, heart pounding with dread.

She stepped closer, eyes as serious and cold as he’d ever seen them, chilled by fear, not anger. “Clark, I don’t want you doing this anymore.”

His stomach lurched in horror as she brought her hand up to show him the collar, lips pursed and head shaking in profound disapproval. He reached for it, but she made no move to hand it to him and he lowered his arm, fingers moving nervously to play with the seam on the leg of his jeans. “Mom, it’s not what you think.”

His mom looked down at her hands, fingers clutching the collar there like there was no way she was going to give it up. Clark shifted his weight from foot to foot as she traced the engraved medallion with her finger. “It has his initials on it, Clark. Why would he give you something like that if it isn’t what I think?”

“Lex... Lex likes me to wear it when he goes out. He thinks it makes me blend in better when we’re out somewhere. It – you know, makes me look less like a bodyguard.”

“And more like his property? Clark you can’t be serious. You actually think he gave you this – this dog collar...”  Her voice shook and she held the leather band out in the air, displaying it for emphasis. “...You think he gave you this so you’d blend in? Where is he taking you that this would help you blend in?”

“Nowhere, really.” The incredulous look he got demanded more.  “Clubs. Night clubs. Look, mom, I know what I’m doing.”

“I think I know what you’re doing, too, Clark. And it terrifies me. Tell me you’re not... tell me he’s not paying you to...”  Tears striped her face and Clark moved to take her in his arms, unable to look at the expression that cut so deep he considered telling her everything, just so he could tell her how good he and Lex were together.  How most of the time, it wasn’t even about the money anymore.

“Mom, please. Please don’t cry.” Clark squeezed his eyes shut, his voice wavering as he spoke. 

Wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, his mom pushed away from his chest to look up at him with the same pleading eyes he’d seen when his father died.

"Clark, listen to me. We don't need the money this badly. I love that you're trying to help. Just... not this way, please honey... not like this. Promise you’ll stop this... you’ll stop letting him use you."  

“I promise...” Clark paused, swallowing hard around the lie. “... I promise Lex isn’t using me like that. I just protect him, that’s all. He would never... he’s not like that.”

His mother’s hand was still on his arm and he reached up to cover it with his hand, to squeeze gently, then ease the leather band from her fingers. She shook her head in protest, but Clark slipped it into his back pocket and wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her close.

“I’m scared, Clark. I’ve never been so scared in my life. Your father–” Her choked sob muffled against his chest as he tightened his embrace.

“Shh, I know, Mom. I was scared, too.” Clark kissed the top of her head and breathed in her shampoo scent. “It’s all going to be okay now. Don’t worry about Lex – he’s a good man. He wants to help us.”

Her head shook, hair rubbing under his chin, and Clark let her step out of his arms.

“If he wanted to help, he wouldn’t be asking you to do things you’re uncomfortable with.”

“Mom, I’m... I’m not uncomfortable with it.” Clark’s cheeks heated and he looked down at the floor, tucking his hands in his pockets. “And he said I don’t have to wear it. It’s my choice.”

He raised his eyes slowly, peeking out from under his bangs, and saw his mom’s face go from sorrow to shock.

“Oh, I see.”

“He’s only trying to help us, mom. You know, he’s paying me way more than I deserve.”

She nodded, eyebrows raised, and sighed. “That’s precisely why I question his motivation.”

“You have to trust me, Mom. And try to trust him. He’s not... he only has good intentions, even if he doesn’t always go about things the way we would.”

Clark watched as she turned her back, chin tilting up as she looked out the window at the setting sun.

“You’d better go. You’re going to be late.”

He pulled his jacket from the railing, then walked over to kiss her on the cheek. As he moved to the stairs, she stopped him.

“Clark – wait.” Her back still turned to him, she spoke softly. “I want to meet him. Would he be willing to do that?”

Clark’s heart jumped to his throat and he nodded fast, smiling to cover his uncertainty. “Of course he would. I’ve told him about you and... Dad. I’ll ask him tonight.”

Her whispered words chased him as he raced down the steps, throwing on his jacket as he went, “Be careful, sweetie.”

**********

Early morning sunlight spilled onto the bed, invited there by Lex who wanted to see all that his lazy thrusts forced from the boy beneath him.

Beautiful Clark.

Bathed in light that was a shadow to his unworldly luminescence, with drowsy changeling eyes, he was a golden, gilded angel.

Ethereal even with sleep and sex-tangled curls, warm and fragrant, flush-stained skin dewed with salty perspiration, and a soft pouty mouth that parted on each hitching, breathy gasp.  He was base, carnal temptation.

All he was, given to Lex freely.  Lex knew it.  Clark was his.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered into Clark's mouth.

“Lex.”

His cock flexed inside the tight, yielding channel of Clark’s body, the plea urging him deeper.  Nose to nose, guileless eyes flared slightly with every long stroke.  He bent frequently to dip his tongue between eager red lips – into the slick, hot cavern of Clark’s mouth, quickly pulling away, flicking his tongue across Clark’s wet lips in a tease that guaranteed needy whimpers.

“Tell me what you want, Clark.”  His voice strained, rasping with the effort to make this one last forever.  “Anything you want…”

“God, Lex,” he moaned, taut, powerful body arching under Lex.  You…this…more…”

Too coherent for Lex’s craving, and he quickened his pace, every forceful thrust pressing Clark’s leaking cock hard between their bellies.  He bent his head to taste Clark’s throat, scenting along the strong jaw, morning stubble grazing sensitized skin.  He worried the thin flesh below Clark’s ear between his teeth before sucking on the tender lobe.

“I’d let you fuck me,” he whispered the secret into Clark’s ear, the answering buck threatening to unseat him.  “Is that what you want?  Tell me…”

“Oh, god, Lex…please…”  Clark’s head twisted, his lips seeking Lex out.  “Kiss me...”

Wet tongues tangled together, no longer sweet and languid, but wild and hungry.  Lex would have kiss-bruised lips today, but he couldn’t make himself care.  He bit hard on Clark’s lower lip, wanting him to carry a similar reminder, but knew he was only dreaming.  Clark’s skin was strangely immune to marking, to Lex’s boundless frustration. 

He finally pulled away, gasping for breath, Clark’s limpid eyes locked on his own.

A whirr of electronics worked its way inside Lex’s consciousness, vaguely irritating him when he realized his answering machine was recording a message. 

Who the *fuck* calls at six a.m.?

//Lex, it’s Victoria.  Are you there, love?//

Oh, shit.

His rhythm faltered and Clark murmured a protest, pulling his legs up higher around Lex’s ribs to urge him on.

//I hope you haven’t forgotten.  You’re to send a car to the airport for me tonight.  I’ll be in at seven.  You’ll buy a girl dinner before she shows you how much she’s missed you, won’t you, Lex?//

Clark’s dark head turned on the pillow to stare at the machine, his mind having finally registered the call.  Lex didn’t hear the rest of Vicky’s plans for their evening, frozen as he was by the hint of a trembling chin and the feel of Clark’s rapidly flagging erection.

Fuck.

“Clark…”  What could he say?  Clark shook his head slightly, disbelievingly, still staring towards the disembodied voice, complaining now about the tourists thronging London and the chaos of Heathrow.

With a resigned sigh, Lex pulled his still-hard cock from Clark and fell back beside him.  “She’s just a business associate.”

Clark sat up, wrapping the sheet around his narrow hips as he swung his legs out of bed.  Lex could see the hurt in the bow of his back.  A quaver shot through his voice as he asked, “Do you fuck her?”

“It’s business.”

One harsh bark of laughter and Clark stood up, striding for the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, “Like me, Lex?”

“Clark, don’t be like this.  It’s…complicated.”  Lex pulled himself up and off the bed, legs leaden with his own uncertainty.  “You know I never promised you anythi–”  The bathroom door shut sharply in his face as he caught up to Clark, and he leaned a hand against the door frame, rubbing his eyes with the other as he collected himself. 

What did Clark expect from him, a declaration of love?  They’d known each other all of three weeks.  Christ, Clark was still on the payroll.

Yet, he’d had to admit to himself his feelings for Clark were growing increasingly intense. He had already decided they would extend the relationship beyond their month-long arrangement. Lex reasoned Clark wouldn’t agree to being kept; he knew the boy had too much pride to continue this as a monetary arrangement beyond an acute financial need.  And he was willing to accommodate Clark’s small town sensibilities.  Lex would woo him.  Date him.  Anything to keep getting his daily fix.

But he would not be manipulated into romantic declarations of feelings he was still so uncertain of.

The doorknob turned beneath his hand and he entered to find Clark already showering, his long, lithe form indistinct behind steamed glass.  Hazel eyes showed wary surprise when he opened the door and stepped into the hot spray.  Hurt and betrayal etched every line of Clark’s body as he stared uncertainly at Lex, water streaming down his face from the tips of the heavy hair plastering the crown of his head.

A silent moment later, Lex found himself thrown back against the wall, stray droplets flying off both their bodies with the force of Clark’s possession, his mouth moving on Lex’s hungrily, muffling his startled cry.  Clark’s insistent tongue forcing entry, plundering him.  Claiming him.

Lex’s lungs ached to draw a full breath.  Big hands moved roughly on him, squeezing and gripping, and Christ it was good.  But his mind was screaming in protest – he couldn’t allow Clark so much control.  Not now.

His hands slipped on the wet skin of Clark’s chest, nails scratching along unaffected skin, finally succeeding in getting his attention.  Clark pulled back, naked need on his face, licking his lips and begging, “Please don’t stop me, Lex.  I want you...”

And it was all right there, Clark’s meaning crystal clear.  He wanted it all – everything Lex had to offer.

“I want you too, Clark,” he answered, his own expression schooled from years of study into something unreadable, though Clark tried.  His momentary confusion allowed Lex to switch positions, turning Clark and pressing him against the cool tile.  He slipped his arms around and ran his hands up Clark’s abdominals, skating across ticklish ribs to squeeze and pull hard little nipples.

Clark made a small, frustrated sound, but lifted his arms and rested them on the shower wall, giving Lex unfettered access to his body.

“I can’t help wanting you,” he said, sliding a hand down Clark’s back, between the firm cheeks of his ass.  He bit the skin of one perfect shoulder as he thrust two fingers deep into the tight sheath, still slick from his earlier preparations.

Clark shuddered, groaning when he twisted both a rosy nipple and the fingers inside Clark’s ass.  “Vicky is business.”  His mouth slid along the planes of Clark’s back, smooth, wet skin and hard muscles twitching under his quick, hard bites.  “You’re nothing but pleasure.”

Clark’s strangled growl at the mention of the woman’s name rang sweet in Lex’s ears.  He thrust his fingers into Clark a few more times and then quickly positioned his cock–

“Do you fuck her, Lex?”

–and drove into Clark with one powerful thrust.
 
Grasping the slender hips with both hands, he withdrew to slam in again and again, Clark’s body accepting his assault with clinging, scorching heat. 

“Not like this,” he answered with hoarse voice, Clark’s questions lost under his low moans as Lex set this new rhythm, pounding and shoving ruthlessly in as the shower’s hot spray ran in thick, flowing rivulets down their straining bodies.

He’d wanted it slow and sweet this morning, but the phone call had eliminated any possibility.  Clark wouldn’t accept anything but what he was getting now, anyway.  Brutal fuck that might dull the pain of his disappointment as it ravaged both of their bodies.

A slow burn coiling at the base of his spine, Lex reached around to roughly jack Clark’s cock in time with his thrusts, mouthing the long throat when Clark’s head fell back to his shoulder.

It was never long enough with Clark, always over too soon.  His cock was swelling inside Clark, tightening balls heralding his climax.  He squeezed Clark’s cock harder, twisting on each down-stroke.  A hard brush of his thumb over the smooth head brought Clark off with a choked cry, his body shaking around Lex’s own pulsing cock as hot cum ran down his still tugging hand.

He sagged into Clark, the wall supporting both their limp, panting bodies for several minutes before pulling out.

“What about tonight?” Clark asked quietly, forehead still pressed to the tile.  “It’s Thursday.” 

One of Clark’s days.

“Take tonight and tomorrow night off.”  Lex said softly, running a knuckle down Clark’s tensing back.  “She’s only going to be in town for a couple of days, Clark.”  He pressed a kiss to the flat of a shoulder blade, closing his eyes when Clark flinched slightly at his touch.  “Then we’ll celebrate the 4^th, just you and me.”

“And lunch today?”  Clark’s voice was thick with bitter disappointment.

Lunch with Clark’s mother.  Lex couldn’t believe he’d agreed to it, except that Clark’s raw panic when he’d arrived at the penthouse two days ago, after his mother finding the collar – well, it had awakened something protective in Lex’s psyche.  He knew without Clark saying it – knew Clark couldn’t say it, couldn’t ask Lex to lie to his mother – what his role was to be. 

His mother’s approval was deeply important to Clark, as it rightly should be, and Lex’s job was to put her mind at rest about her son’s involvement with the dissolute Luthor playboy.

Lunch with Clark’s mother.

“That’s up to you.”

**********

Martha Kent was already seated when they arrived at the tastefully upscale Italian restaurant.  Lex had chosen it for its discreet wait staff and management, not knowing what to expect from the encounter.  He could understand it if she were hysterical after finding her son’s dog collar, with his initials signaling the ‘owner’.

Clark had assured him on the ride over that she wouldn’t make a scene – that she’d have it together – and small miracle, she actually appeared to be relatively calm.  She was a slight woman, with an unmistakable presence that made her seem larger than she was.  Neat auburn bob tucked behind her ears, and well dressed, she didn’t give the impression of being a farmer’s wife.  There was tension in the lines of her face, and a full mouth that reminded him of Clark’s, though he knew there was no relation, pursed in concern for her boy.  She gave Lex a tight little smile before assessing Clark.

He resisted the urge to assess Clark for himself, not needing a reminder of the pouting resentment to make this more difficult.  Their morning had been spent apart, Lex working in his office while Clark read on the balcony, a deliberate snub after his recent habit of keeping Lex company on the office’s leather couch.

Standing as they approached her table, Martha held out her hand as Clark introduced them, standing rigid beside him.  “Mom, this is Lex Luthor.  Lex, my mom, Martha Kent.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Kent.”  Lex smiled as genuinely as he could, given the circumstances, hoping she would find it acceptable.

She said nothing in response, eyes sliding back to Clark, and Lex knew without looking it was worse than he had imagined.  Not surprising.  It seemed to him Clark had never learned how to lie.

A waiter appeared at his elbow and took their drink orders, leaving tasseled menus in his wake.  “The baked lasagna is very good,” he said, when no one made a move to open them.  This was perhaps the most awkward situation of his life.

“Mrs. Kent – ” he began hesitantly before being cut off.

“I want to know what’s going on between you and my son.”

“Mom!” Clark exclaimed, just as the waiter returned with their drinks.

“Three baked lasagnas, Caesar salads to start,” Lex ordered, willing the man away from their table.

“Mom, I told you, nothing’s going on…please don’t do this.”  Clark reached across the table to take his mother’s hand, but her faded blue eyes were boring into Lex’s.

Waiting to be told that it was all in her imagination – just a silly misunderstanding due to Lex’s peculiar partiality to dressing his young bodyguards in bondage gear.  This was where Lex was supposed to lie – a practice not unfamiliar to him.  Except he found he couldn’t.  Couldn’t lie under the watchful eyes of two such decent people.

So maybe it was just because he didn’t want Clark to witness him in this deceit. 

“Clark, why don’t you check the restaurant’s perimeter,” he suggested, and God, he sounded as ridiculous as he felt.

Clark started to object until he realized he had no choice and only shot Lex a warning glare before departing to his imaginary duties.  Lex turned back to Martha Kent and saw her eyes narrow in displeasure over their transparent ruse.  Lying to this woman would be the worst mistake he could make.  For Clark’s sake, he would have to find a version of the truth that was somewhat palatable to her.

“Mrs. Kent, I want to put your mind at ease.  I assure you I hold Clark in the highest regard.”

“Forgive me for being so blunt, Mr. Luthor, but I demand to know the nature of your relationship with my son.  He’s in your employment in some capacity, and I need to know…  He’s still very young, very trusting.  He might not understand if you were abusing your position…” She trailed off, eyes glittering.

“I would never take advantage of Clark, never hurt him,” Lex assured her, and never mind that he had hurt Clark badly only this morning.  It hadn’t been intentional.

“Are you sleeping with him?” 

“Yes.”  Lex looked her in the eye.  “I am.”  It was too direct a question for tactful evasion.

A pale slender hand rose to cover her gasp of dismay, and a single tear fell when she closed her eyes.  Lex pressed his handkerchief into the hand still resting atop the table.

“Has Clark told you about the night we met?” he softly asked, continuing when she shook her head, “A man was threatening me, and pulled a knife.  Clark had no idea who I was.  With no thought of risk or reward, he intervened on my behalf.”

“Clark would never accept money for saving a life,” she said automatically, both hands twisting his unused handkerchief.

“He protects me, Mrs. Kent.”  Even when we are alone, he might have added.

“And do you protect him, Lex?” her voice clear and strong, composure returning the moment their salads arrived at the table.

Lex waited until they were alone again.  “I would never compromise Clark’s safety.”

“It’s not his safety I worry about.”

What further assurances could he give?  “Your son trusts me.”

“Yes.  It’s whether you’re worthy of that trust that concerns me.”  She looked pointedly at Clark, visible through the restaurant’s front windows, standing with shoulders hunched in obvious misery on the sidewalk.  His head was cocked as if he could hear their conversation and knew he wouldn’t be welcomed back to the table yet.  “Look at him.  Did you do that to him?”

Lex might be able to blame Clark’s mood on his mother’s frank questioning of his lover, but he didn’t even try.  In for a penny.  "It’s true he’s angry with me.  We fought this morning, and I’ve yet to make it up to him.  It’s a private matter.”

Martha studied him a long moment, gauging his veracity, perhaps.  Lex felt his jaw tic, but managed not to squirm under her regard. 

“I hope you do make it up to him, Lex.” He thought she was sincere in her wish.  “But you’re mistaken if you think that Rolex watches and expensive clothes guarantee my son’s affections.”  Her gaze had turned intense.  “Clark’s not like most people.  Don’t underestimate him.”

“I appreciate your advice, Mrs. Kent.”

Clark suddenly appeared at his side, settling in his chair without preamble.  He gave Lex a look that said murder, and Lex dreaded his reaction when he learned how much had been revealed to his mother.

“Clark, honey, would you like a piece of bread?” Martha passed the basket to her mutinous offspring, and between she and Lex, a polite conversation was carried on over their meal.  He found much to admire in Martha Kent. If not for the oppressive silence at his elbow, he could honestly have said he enjoyed the lunch.

Lex felt the pressure of the moment, knowing that Clark would catch a ride back to Smallville with his mother, and that he wouldn’t see him for a couple days.  He didn’t want to leave things so badly, but neither would Clark appreciate him being obvious in front of Martha.

The only option left to him was to be especially solicitous of Clark, making sure he had all he wanted, that he was happy with the meal he’d been ordered.  He tried to catch the boy’s eyes over his questions, but Clark was resolute.

Lex finished his lunch, laying his napkin on the table, and in frustration he sat back and rested his arm across the back of Clark’s chair.  He could feel Martha watching them with hawkish interest, but he didn’t care.  He wasn’t going to let Clark leave today on such a sour note.

His palm curved around Clark’s side, thumb rubbing circles over the cotton covering Clark’s back.  His possessive touch finally got him what he wanted – Clark’s bruised gaze locked on his.  “I’m sorry about the change in our plans, Clark.  I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.

It wasn’t what Clark wanted to hear, though.  He turned away silently, signaling the end of the meal by laying his own napkin on the table.  Lex opened his mouth to say more and snapped it shut again.  He studied the fine, classical profile, Clark’s chin tucked down, jaw clenched against words that wouldn’t be appropriate in front of his mother, and Lex realized it would have to wait.

He stared at their dirty dishes, absorbed in his thoughts for a moment before raising his gaze to Martha Kent’s.  She was staring at him with a mix of emotions he wasn’t sure of, but he thought he recognized sympathy and understanding among them.  He thought he might have recognized affection, too.

“Would you care for dessert, Mrs. Kent?”

 “No, thank you, Lex.  And, please…” she smiled softly, “Call me Martha.”

**********

Clark sat on the couch, thumbing impatiently through the architecture magazine that had come in Lex's mail that afternoon. He shook his head at an egg-shaped house and tossed the magazine to the coffee table.

Well, he was back, although it didn’t feel like it. Two days away and the whole place felt changed, mutated into a foreign, cheap brothel where Lex entertained his business associates instead of a comfortable escape from the real world.

Clark sniffed at the perfume-laced pillow on the couch next to him and flung it across the room to bounce off the bookshelves. Signs of her were everywhere.

And now this was just a job again. It had its perks, sure. But the boss didn’t call to check on his employees, even if Clark had carried the cordless around in his back pocket for practically the whole two days, waiting.

He smiled at the idea of this being work.

Pete trudged home with a foot-high stack of papers every night from his summer job; if he knew what Clark was doing, Clark could brag that he didn’t have to bring his work home with him.

Couldn’t if he wanted to, in fact.

Today he’d missed Chloe's barbeque and the town parade, opting instead for the flavorless cuisine of a five-star restaurant and a cock in his mouth because Smallville apparently wasn’t good enough for Luthors.

He'd been so naive.

He’d truly believed that he and Lex were getting closer, that they had been connecting on a level he'd never really gotten to with anyone else. He'd thought the timing was good, the casual, private setting of the dressing room giving him the courage to ask Lex on a sort of date.

How could he have thought that Lex would say yes and spend the day in Smallville playing boyfriend?

It was a stupid, childish hope. Lex had neatly brushed off the invitation and Clark had swallowed the pride that twisted in his throat, covering his embarrassment by changing the subject as fast as he could.  Of course Lex wouldn't want to forego Metropolis for Smallville, haute cuisine for back yard barbeque, a small-budget display for the grandeur of fireworks over the city.

And just when the sting of Lex’s refusal had cleared away, making him forget the maybe-unconscious rejection and sink back into the comfort of Lex’s casual admiration, just when he let himself believe again that maybe, someday, he could share something deeper than a business relationship with Lex,  Lex’s girlfriend had called, dashing that dream, too.

He'd not stopped kicking himself for his naivete ever since.

That phone call had snapped him out of his fantasy world fast. To make matters worse, Lex had told his mom the truth – well, most of it – in the five fucking minutes he’d left them alone in the restaurant, and he’d had a harrowing ride home with his mother. She’d been quiet at first, then started with carefully worded questions that had made his skin crawl.

And the worst, the worst part of it was that he’d had to feign Lex’s sincerity for him, because of course, Lex hadn’t been there in the car to continue the farce he’d started in the restaurant. He’d played the part well though, Clark had to give him that. Lex hadn’t faltered once, adamantly stating his “regard” for Clark like it was fact and not just the clever, charming lie Lex had cooked up to placate his mother.

Everything was business with Lex, no matter how much Clark wanted it not to be true.

So here he was, waiting on the sofa for another empty fuck wrapped loosely in the pretense of something more, for whatever purpose that served.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes; he was so fucking stupid. Lex was paying him for his companionship – and he'd promised Lex on their first night together that he wouldn't forget that fact.

He had though, he'd hoped it into oblivion, read so much into signs that Lex surely hadn't intended to give. Clothes and watches and – fuck, of course – collars weren't meant to be treasured gifts from a boyfriend. They were bribes. Incentives to keep him happy so he wouldn't slack off in his duties – keeping Lex happy.

He pushed off the couch, stalking to the kitchen and getting a bottle of water from the fridge, gulping it down to drown the lump that had balled impossibly huge in his throat.

Crossing the dining room, he stood at the windows of the balcony, anger clenching his teeth tight together, his fingers flying over one wet cheek. The sun was throwing its last long orange rays through the skyscrapers. The night sky threatened to fall, whether or not he was ready for it.

He sat the bottle on the kitchen bar and walked slowly down the hallway. He wasn't going to miss the fireworks – they were his only consolation prize.

Knocking gently on the office door, he hoped vaguely that he'd catch Lex in the middle of a phone call – or some other crisis that couldn't be set aside – so he'd be free to watch the fireworks alone.

"Come in." Lex's voice was even, smooth as ever, but tinged with a mischievousness that set Clark's nerves on edge. Lex's games were always overwhelming and right now, Clark didn't want to play.

He turned the knob and pushed his head into the room, shoulders and body following as he greeted Lex with the best smile he could summon. Lex pushed up from his place at the desk, key-locking his screen and flipping the lid shut on his laptop.

"Ready for the show, Clark?" Lex was beaming, eyes glimmering with some secret that Clark didn't bother trying to figure out.

He took a deep breath and smiled.  "It's getting dark. I thought you might not have noticed."

He could do this, he could just pretend everything was... fine. He moved closer, touching Lex's chest, his hands automatically sliding up to the pale throat as he leaned in to suck gently there.

Eyes closed, he licked lightly along Lex's jaw, his mouth closing and tugging on Lex's earlobe. Lex's scent filled his mouth as he tasted the smooth skin, his chest aching with the bittersweet pain of knowing this kind of appreciation was one-sided.

"Mmmm..." Lex's head tilted against his mouth and Clark whimpered softly.

He loved making Lex feel good and even if it wouldn't last, he could savor what time they did have together.

Clark glanced down, watching as Lex tucked his hands into his pockets. He was confused at first, then realized that Lex wasn't touching – he was waiting – so they wouldn't miss the fireworks.

A part of him despised the gesture – but Lex didn't deserve his anger. He'd been fair to Clark – had never asked for anything more than what he'd paid for.

Really, if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that Lex had gone out of his way to be patient – meeting his mother, calling when Clark had been too stubborn to pick up the phone, going slow that first night, so concerned about hurting him.

Lex bent slightly to peer up into his down-turned face, looking genuinely concerned for him. "Hey, are you okay?"

Guilt tightened in his chest and he nodded.

He needed to do his job, to give Lex the attention he had bought and stop feeling sorry for himself. For Lex, he would swallow his hurt pride, and focus on making Lex happy.

He pressed his forehead against Lex's, faces so close together that his whole world narrowed to the soft, confident blue of Lex's eyes. Not trusting his voice, he whispered, "Should we watch from the balcony?"

Lex's breath came in short, warm puffs against his lips as he spoke. "The bedroom has a better view."

Clark forced a grin and closed his eyes, arms sliding down the narrow space between their bodies and wrapping around Lex's waist as he pulled him close for a slow, lingering kiss. It took him over, clouding the regret he ached with. Their mouths melting together, tongues twining until Clark's mind spun with the soft, warm feeling of being owned, being cherished this way, if no other.

When Lex's chest heaved into his and long, thin fingers dug into his arms, Clark released his mouth, letting Lex go, and stepped back, looking down at the floor between them. Clark closed his eyes, acutely aware of the irony of Lex's cool hand sliding gently over his flushed cheek.

Lex's voice was low and soft on his ear. "Let's go upstairs."

And Clark shoved down the urge to speak, to question.  He’d hoped for something more for tonight, more than Lex eager to fuck him while he wished for something more, some passion between them that wasn't lust-driven.

His legs wouldn't budge, his brain screaming a protest against the idea of fucking when he knew they should be making love, but then Lex took his hand and led him slowly through the darkened penthouse hall and up the stairs to the bedroom.

Inside, Lex lifted his shirt up and off over his head and Clark stripped his off too, pressing his body along Lex's, sinking into the familiar sensations he couldn't deny wanting... needing, despite everything.

He did need this though - did want it. He wouldn't have to fake anything.  This, this meshing of skin and fluid and voices could make him feel like it was almost real, like Lex was almost really his.

Lex's fingers slipped under his waistband and Clark sucked his stomach in, closing his eyes, waiting for the pleasure he hated being able to lose himself in.

Lex's cool fingers slid around Clark's wrist and he opened his eyes, surprised when Lex began tugging him around to the other side of the bed.  Clark watched with bated breath as Lex sat down on the plush carpet, back leaning against the side of the bed, knees bending up, feet apart. The hand on his wrist yanked gently and Clark knelt down between Lex's knees, fingers automatically going to the closure on Lex's pants.

Outside the window behind him, he heard the first thundering boom of fireworks, and Lex's hands closed tightly on his shoulders. "They're starting."

Clark nodded slowly, then fumbled with the button on Lex's pants again, the weight of disillusionment dampening his usual enthusiasm.

"You're missing them. Look." Clark looked up and Lex pointed out the window, eyebrows raised. Clark looked over his shoulder just as a thousand pink lights blossomed across the night sky.

Lex's hands pushed against his shoulders, turning him around, and Clark moved, amazed that he had misunderstood Lex’s wish. He shook his head as another burst erupted, yellow and thin and long, a dazzling star-shape that he could still see, even after the lights had all burned out.

He sat there, one arm hooked over Lex's thigh, frozen in the heavy silence that filled the room between each explosion of light.

Arms slipped up under his and pulled him back, the warm skin of his back cooling against Lex's chest. Hands closed in a firm embrace low over his chest and Clark let his head fall back to rest on Lex's collarbone.

Two small, white flowers bloomed side by side over the city and Clark smiled. “That's my favorite kind. See how the lights trickle down?  I love that."

"Clark..." Something in Lex's low voice soothed his anger and made him turn his head, and Lex's lips were right there, breath ghosting over his cheek. “I’m sorry. About Victoria– about everything.”

Clark leaned up and kissed him softly, then turned back to the fireworks as another boom exploded, lighting up the city.

Lex rubbed his chest slowly, almost absently Clark thought, and whispered into his ear, "The next one is for you."

A stunning series of thunderclaps that Clark could feel in his chest gave way to a breathtaking display. Six electric blue stars whistled up, trailing white smoke as they rose, then the stars exploded into thousands of thin, short streaks that reached so high into the night that Clark wondered if they would ever come down. Before the blue could fade, two red bursts blazed at opposing angles low across the sky, bisected by the biggest bloom of pure white Clark had ever seen. The red lines disappeared and the white lights dissolved to a pale purple, the lingering dots of light wavering as they dripped down into darkness.

For once, he was glad that Lex never settled for small gestures.

Clark closed his watering eyes, swallowing hard, listening to the sounds of smaller, shorter booms echoing in the silence that felt warm and comfortable now. He closed his hand over the one that trailed lightly back and forth over his chest, lifting it to his mouth to kiss it before laying it back on his chest.

The lights painting the dark city sky blurred through the tears in his eyes. He swallowed hard, feeling the slow rise and fall of Lex's chest behind him, and smiled, sinking into the soul-lifting realization that he'd been wrong.

So wrong.

**********

Lex stumbled into the penthouse and dropped numbly into an armchair, mindless of blood smearing the expensive upholstery through the rips in his jacket’s sleeve.  Half an instant later he was moving to the bar, pouring himself four-fingers of excellent scotch he wouldn’t taste, but he needed…something.

He fucking needed Clark.

Needed him to make some sense of what had just happened to them – what…an hour ago?  Lex didn’t know.  He couldn’t even remember the drive home.

They’d been to dinner at a little hole in the wall restaurant near the Met U. campus.  It had been a celebration of sorts.  Lex snorted.  Pride leadeth, and all that…  But Lex had wanted to go out.  He’d worked tirelessly this last week putting the final touches on his replacement deal and it had all come together late in the day.  Luthor Corp’s new factory would be located in Prague.

He’d been impatient to deliver the news to Sergei, or maybe revenge had lost some of its luster since he was sure of Clark’s feelings for him and of his own for Clark.  Either way, he’d decided he didn’t need to see the look on the Russian’s face, and satisfied himself with a personal call, instead.  To say the man hadn’t taken the news well would be an understatement.

But that had pleased Lex, and he thought the news pleased Clark, as well.  Although Clark’s threshold for pleasure had reached new heights since Lex had surprised him with the fireworks, so it was hard to tell for certain.

They’d sat in the restaurant’s deep booth till closing, long after they’d finished their meal, sipping coffee and brandy.  Lex had just felt content and lazy and Clark was in no hurry.  Their nights had been like that lately, the two of them talking for hours, learning about each other in earnest, sharing stories and dreams they maybe hadn’t shared with anyone before.

It might have been idyllic, except that Clark was holding something back.  Lex had seen glimmers of it like something moving in the corner of his eye, enough to know there was something there.

Something real.

And now he knew what it was.  Or rather, the glimmer was revealed to be something enormous but still undefined, no longer skirting the boundaries, but rather like a shrouded elephant dropped into his living room.

It simply could not be ignored, but Clark’s absence suggested he was going to try.

Christ, what exactly had he seen?

He sat back down on the large couch, arms resting on his knees, drink hanging neglected off the tips of his fingers.

They’d left the restaurant; their fingers laced loosely together, and turned the corner onto a residential street where the Porsche was parked.  Streetlights were positioned on each corner but the middle of the block had been deep in shadow.  It happened so fast after that – Clark was opening the passenger door while Lex moved to the driver’s side when he’d been pushed hard into the side of the car. 

A tall, muscular body was flush against his back, but it was the cool metal cylinder at his temple that held him immobile.  Hot breath and spit fell on his scalp as the assailant cursed low into his ear in guttural Russian.

“You little shit.  I’m going to *fucking* kill you.”

It wasn’t his life that flashed before Lex’s eyes, but every police report, every news article, every grainy black and white photo he’d seen detailing the deaths of men just like him.  Russians who’d been inconvenient to Nabokov’s new regime.  He had no doubt he was going to die.

And Clark.

Lex had looked up at him – watching in horror from over the roof of the car – with profound sorrow in his soul that Clark should die like this, because of his association with a Luthor.  He owed Martha Kent an apology he’d never be able to deliver.

But then Clark had started talking, moving slowly around the back of the car with his hands held out in front of him.  Telling Sergei he didn’t want to do this, it wasn’t too late to stop, he just needed to put the gun down.

Sergei’s laugh had been a sibilant hiss, his madness starkly evident, and Lex cursed his father for not seeing it before he’d gotten them involved with this man. Clark hadn’t advanced halfway to them when Sergei pointed the gun at him and fired directly into Clark’s chest.

The next thing Lex knew he was thrown to the ground, landing sharply on his elbow, clothing ripped open on the rough asphalt and Clark was kneeling over him asking him if he was okay.

He hadn’t blacked out.  He knew that because he could hear Sergei running down the street.  Clark had the gun and reached up to lay it on the car’s trunk, demanding again to know if Lex was okay.

Lex realized he was probably in shock, and for several tripping heartbeats all he could do was stare at Clark, impossibly alive and well.  His hands finally moved to touch, to be sure, and he was suddenly frantic to know – grasping and groping at Clark’s head and chest, arms and abdomen, searching for the warm, sticky blood that had to be somewhere.

“How… Clark, he shot you… Are you okay?”  His fingers had found the bullet holes then.  Three of them in the center of Clark’s light sweater, and he’d scrambled to jerk the cloth up, only to find, perfect, dry skin beneath.  “But he shot you!” he’d screamed, feeling nauseous and faint.

Clark had held him tightly, whispering that they were both okay, rubbing his back until they heard the approaching sirens, then he helped Lex stand on wobbly legs.  Lex started to ask him again, desperate to know what happened before the police arrived, but Clark had only shaken his head.

“I have to go, Lex,” he said backing away.  “See if I can catch Sergei before he gets away.”

And then he was gone, running away from Lex despite protests that he needed to wait for the police.  Let them handle it.  They didn’t have to tell the police about Clark’s getting shot, he’d wanted Clark to know, but he couldn’t very well scream it down the street.

So he’d dealt with the police as best he could, sending them on Sergei’s trail, promising a full statement in the morning and being suspiciously vague about his evening’s companion.  He was sure they thought he’d been entertaining a prostitute who hadn’t wanted the hassle of a police questioning.  He’d laughed in true hysteria over that on his drive home, he remembered.  If they only knew.

He heard the front door open and close quietly a moment before Clark appeared in the room, dark head hung, hands shoved deep in his jeans pockets.  He wouldn’t meet Lex’s stare across the room, attention fixed on the floor in front of him.

“I’m back.”

“So I see.  Did you catch Sergei?” Lex asked, just for the hell of it. 

Clark’s cheeks bloomed scarlet.  “No, he got away.”

Lex nodded slowly, in complete understanding.  “You changed your shirt.”

“Um, yeah.  That other one – it must have gotten snagged up on something.”

“After it was penetrated by bullets, you mean?”  Lex laughed humorlessly.  “Clark, I saw you get shot.  Don’t try to tell me it didn’t happen.”

And if Clark only would admit the truth, he might not even ask how he came to be wearing a t-shirt Lex had seen him in at least once before.  He couldn’t have gotten to Smallville and back in under an hour, so where did it come from?  Lex forced the maddening thought out of his head. 

One mystery at a time.

“What did you tell the police, Lex?” Clark looked up fearfully from under his dark curls.  “About why I didn’t stick around, I mean.”

Jesus.  It hit Lex all at once, how big the elephant really was. 

Clark was terrified. 

Of him.

“Clark,” he sighed, “Come here.”

Clark moved to sit beside Lex on the couch, melting into him when he pulled the younger man into his arms.  He shifted back until Clark was half on top of him.  “It’s okay.  I didn’t tell them anything.”  He threaded his fingers through Clark’s silky locks when long arms wrapped around his torso.  “They don’t even expect you to make a statement.”

He felt Clark take a deep shuddering breath, barely heard the whispered, “Thank you.”

Lex pressed his lips to Clark’s hair, breathing in the scent of the night air, a silent gesture of gratefulness for Clark here, safe and whole, whatever the miraculous truth behind it.

But he wanted that truth as well.  “You can trust me.  You have to know that.”

“I know, Lex.”

Lex waited for him to say more, but he didn’t.  “Clark, I need an explanation.  You should be dead right now.  We both should be, but we’re not.  That first night in the limo – you grabbed the knife with your hand.  I saw it.  And your skin – you never bruise.  You never bleed.  You’ve never even felt pain when I’ve fucked you, and you should have.  Clark, any one else would have.  Tell me,” he urged.

Hands deep in the couch on either side of him, Clark pushed back and looked pleadingly at Lex.  “I didn’t get shot, I swear.  It was dark, and everything happened really fast.  I think you must have passed out for a minute.”  Flecked hazel eyes darted away for a second and he continued, “It’s crazy, Lex.  If I’d gotten shot, then I would be dead.”

Lex opened his mouth to object again, to push harder, but he bit his tongue, studied Clark with his jaw clenched shut and knew – knew – that it would be pointless.  Clark really never had learned how to lie but that wasn’t stopping him.

“Okay, Clark.  If you say so.”

Relief poured off Clark in waves, and he closed the inches to press a chaste kiss to Lex’s mouth.  Full lips lifted in a poignant smile and he whispered, “I was so scared for you, Lex.  If anything had happened to you–”

“It’s over now.”  Lex disentangled himself from the lanky form, stood and looked down at Clark.  “It’s been a long day, what say we turn in?”

“Sure, Lex.”  He took Lex’s hand in a big warm paw and led him up to the bedroom. 

They quickly and silently brushed their teeth and stripped down, Clark taking his cue from Lex and leaving his boxers on before climbing in bed.  He took his usual position behind Lex, arm curled around to stroke his chest, and laid soft, wet kisses across Lex’s back.

“You okay?” he tentatively asked.

“I’m fine.  Just worn out.”  But he was anything but fine.  He’d thought he’d earned Clark’s friendship, his trust.  Thought he’d finally found…so many things in Clark.  But he’d been wrong.

He’d only found a mystery, one that was closed to him, and his chest tightened with the blackness that poured over every moment of happiness he’d felt with Clark.  It coated the memories, tainting them, twisting them until he didn’t even recognize himself in them and he pushed them from his head, willing the stranger’s body behind him to disappear as quickly as his feelings had.

“Clark…I’ve…I’ve got an early call in the morning.  I’ll be gone before you wake up.”

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow night, then,” Clark said, before shyly prompting, “You know what tomorrow is…”

Lex kept his voice steady so it wouldn’t betray the irony that thickened on his tongue with the words.  “It’s one month.”

“Yeah,” Clark sounded wistful, and pulled him more snugly into his embrace. 

Lex understood. He’d started to imagine it as an anniversary of sorts himself.

“Night, Lex.”

“Goodnight, Clark.”

**********

"Lex, I'm here! Lex?" Clark smiled and shook his head.  Lex must be buried in work tonight to not meet him at the door. Short, sharp regret stabbed in his chest. Their last night as employer and employee, and Lex was working late.

He shrugged it off, telling himself that the Sergei incident was probably making all kinds of trouble for the company. Trouble that, of course, Lex would have to deal with. Sometimes he wondered if Lionel ever actually did any of the work.

Walking into the kitchen to get a bottle of water, he waited patiently for Lex to emerge from the depths of corporate sludge. He didn’t begrudge the time, knowing that tonight was really only the beginning. He and Lex would have plenty of time later.

In fact, he was looking forward to wrapping it up. He knew even on their best days, the fact that he was obligated to be there with Lex had always been in the back of their minds. The end of his employment meant the two of them were free to give themselves without condition or obligation. He smiled around his bottle of water, wondering what it would be like to show Lex off in Smallville. Chloe would be so jealous and Lana would blush, ever the naive little girl. Pete might make some cracks about Lex's bald head, but at least he'd be civil enough to do it when Lex wasn't around.

As he walked back through the living room to the windows of the balcony, a piece of paper and a small box on the table caught his eye, making him pause.

His check.

Shit.

He'd known it would be there, written in sharp, sure strokes, the closure to this arrangement. He'd hoped Lex would slip it into his backpack while he was sleeping, or at least put it in an envelope so they could both pretend it was something else, but there it was.  The naked reminder that really, the last 30 days had been just been a job.

Clark hesitantly reached for it, slipping it out from under the tiny square box that sat on top of it. Was the box part of his payment? A bonus?  He hoped not.  Even knowing it was Lex’s way of showing that he cared, sometimes the expensive gifts made Clark uncomfortable.  In fact, from anyone else, a bonus tonight would have seemed like an insult.

Clark picked up the box, fingers fumbling to open it and mouth falling open when he finally flipped the miniscule latch and the lid popped open.

A ring, a simple golden band with a diamond, showcased by diamonds, surrounded by diamonds. He turned it a little and it gleamed brilliantly in the ray of sun that pushed over his shoulder into the room, throwing prisms of color across his face and hands.

It wasn't a bonus. Not his bonus, anyway.

This was an engagement ring.  A ring for a woman. A ring for Victoria.

Clark's vision swam as he snapped the lid shut and set the box back down on the table, folded his check and tucked it into his pocket.

"It's a beauty, isn't it?"

Clark's head snapped up and nodded slowly, completely confused and beginning to rage at the realization that Lex must be planning to...

"I'm going to ask her tomorrow at dinner. Or maybe here. Which do you think, Clark?"

It hung there in the air, a grey cloud that Clark's numb brain couldn't begin to see through.

"But she's..." He wanted to say 'gone,' back to England like Lex said, too far away to propose to, too far away to be anything but an annoying reminder. Lex must've called her back. Oh God, he couldn't have, wouldn't have... but Lex was grinning from ear to ear, actually waiting for Clark's opinion on when he should fucking propose.

Shock flashed to anger so fast that Clark barely heard his own tight voice spitting undisguised fury. "I thought she was just business."

"Like you? Oh, I'm sorry, Clark, did you want a ring too?"  Lex's eyes sparkled and he laughed. But it wasn't funny, it was fucking horrible, and Lex's amusement stung, the agonizing quasi-truth behind the tease making Clark's knees falter. He grasped the back of a chair and held on tight. Teeth clenched against his tears, he couldn't summon words. He just shook his head slightly.

Lex's hands slid up his chest, wrapping around his neck to pull him down for a rough kiss.

Clark's mouth opened under Lex's urging, but he didn't move, his hands hanging paralyzed at his sides, his lips tingling with the knowledge that this wasn't the beginning of something else.

It was the end of everything.

How had he been so wrong? No, he hadn’t been.  He fucking hadn’t been wrong – Lex had feelings for him too, he was sure.

Lex's mouth released his and he watched in detached fascination as Lex licked his lips, smiling up at him. "Come upstairs with me?" And just like that, Lex – his employer – turned and walked away.

Clark wanted to scream at him, to grab him and stop him and yell, “How could you do this? How could you just turn it off?”

But he couldn’t say a word, couldn't stop the shaking of his head, couldn't keep his legs from shaking as he followed slowly behind Lex. He was pulled along by invisible strings lashed tight on his brain and heart. Both ached with the effort to disbelieve, but when Lex reached out, pulling hard at Clark's clothes, stripping him fast like he hadn't even noticed Clark's hesitation, he knew.

Lex was gone. For whatever reason, he'd left Clark completely.

He grasped for Lex with the realization, body craving the contact that Lex was denying his soul. His hands flew to the buttons of Lex's shirt, yanking it open with a force that had Lex staggering backward, laughing nervously.

"So, the true Clark Kent is finally revealed."

He knew he was wrong.  If Lex was really marrying Victoria, it was his own fault. Lex had asked what every friend asked of him, the one thing he hadn’t ever given anyone. The one thing that kept him so far from everyone.

The truth.

He was tempted, so tempted to just blurt it all out, to get it over with, to try and make it real and ridiculous and insignificant. To get past the secrecy and make Lex see that someday, somehow it wouldn’t even matter to Lex.

But what if it did? What if Lex rejected him or thought he was crazy or still lying?

What if his secret became Lex’s ‘business’ and he became an object, a means to an end that Lex’s ambition couldn’t resist?

Clark's hands slowly let loose the fabric of Lex’s shirt, spreading open on the chest it covered, his head falling to rest just above it, tucked under Lex's chin.  "I can't."

Lex's hand curved on his biceps, pushing him back a little. "Hey, it's okay. We knew this was coming, right?"

Clark nodded quickly, eyes fixed on the pile of clothing at his feet. What could he say? He had known it, and Lex had never promised anything beyond tonight. He'd never even offered. Clark had just assumed that Lex would give him time, that they would have time to come around to the truth, and by then, his evasion of it would be easily forgiven because Lex would realize that he couldn’t have told him before then. Instead, Lex was giving up on him, and Clark’s heart sank, knowing that he deserved this, deserved to be punished for his weakness, for his silent, unspoken betrayal.

He wanted to fall to his knees, bury his face in Lex’s stomach, wrap his hands around his waist and beg, plead for forgiveness and time. All they needed was time.

But Lex leaned in close, lips to his ear. "I want to be inside you, Clark."  The strong hands on his arms turned him, slowly pushing him down onto the bed on his hands and knees.

Behind him he heard the slide of a zipper and the rustling of fabric. The nightstand drawer opened and closed and Lex's hands slid cool and slick up the inside of his thighs. Panic strangled his heart, and Clark knelt up, one hand reaching back to stop Lex's.

"I..." He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t fight or protest. He’d do anything Lex wanted, anything he could to leave Lex with something he would want to hold onto and remember.

Lex leaned in, his chest brushing Clark's back, his voice low and patient. Always patient. "What is it, Clark?"

Clark’s selflessness faltered, his chest tight with the need that sent the words spilling out before he could bite his tongue. "I want to see you. Please, Lex... I need to... see you." His voice wavered but he didn't care, couldn't bring himself to even wonder that he didn't mind if Lex knew how he felt.

And with the gentle stroking on his back, he was sure that Lex did know.

He loved Lex. Loved him more than life and freedom and... that was it. The thing that made it all impossible. No matter how willing he was to risk a life as a science experiment for the chance to be with Lex, his freedom was not his own to risk.

It was bound to his mother through something closer than blood, a dedication that could never be belittled by calling it obligation. He loved her, and now she depended on him wholly. They were locked together in something no one could ever touch, secrets and love that were rooted so deeply no one could ever unearth them entirely. He loved her with a devotion he knew someday he’d look back on with just this one single regret.

He had no choice but to protect his secret and sacrifice love, sacrifice Lex, to make sure his mother would never be alone, even if it meant he would always be. Even if it meant Lex would marry Victoria and never know the happiness he was sure he and Lex could find together.

His body sagged, elbows bending as he wept silently.

He was so detached, hurting, dying inside and he jumped a little when Lex leaned down and kissed his shoulder then turned him slowly onto his back.

Clark closed his eyes, lashes wetting with tears he just let come as he felt Lex's hands gently touching his thighs, pushing them apart.

He sighed as Lex kissed down over his neck and chest and one finger slid smoothly inside him, slowly stroking in and out. Lex hardly ever started this way, taking so much time, starting so slowly.   It only hurt Clark more.

He opened his eyes and looked into Lex's. They were drowsy with passion but edged with a sadness that tore through Clark and tears slid from the corners of his eyes, trailing hot down over his temples and tickling into his hair.

Lex leaned down and kissed one of the wet lines and Clark's body reacted, overthrowing the ache that tinged every touch with regret.

Hips lifting to answer the gentle caressing inside him, he reached down and pulled Lex's finger out of his body, wincing at the loss of contact. He wanted Lex, all of Lex, inside him.

Lex's eyes came back to them, to this, and he whispered, "Is it... are you okay?"

He held Lex's gaze, nodding and lifting up to cat