Title: Pretty is as pretty does
Author: Illuferret
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: NC17
Feedback: nikoxenos@yahoo.co.uk
Spoilers: Takes place some time after 2:nd season episode "Skinwalkers"
Category: angst, humour, romance
Summary: Clark loves Lex. Clark is an alien with superpowers. Lex is drunk, kidnapped and has a Magnificent Bastard for a father.
Disclaimer: So not mine that my obsession with them borders on the pathetic. In other words, these characters and their environment belong to a lot of others with far more power and money than me.
My thanks to my wonderful, wonderful betas Karen, Penelope and Isilya. The story would be a mess without them. All mistakes and exaggerations are mine.

PRETTY IS AS PRETTY DOES

The title comes from a song by Guadalcanal Diary and it bears no relevance to the story. I just liked it.


Sometimes it is the simple things that hurt the most. Like Clark asking him for money or legal help or ... And Lex gave in every fucking time because if he couldn't buy Clark a truck, he could at least buy things for his friends, or use his influence for them. Maybe even use these things in the chess game he was playing with his father. Even though the idea of using everything he ever did for Clark as a way to gain people's trust was something that Lex did not want to contemplate while getting slowly drunk.

His friendship with Clark is not supposed to be about exchange of commodities, though. It is supposed to be pure and beautiful and the stuff of legends. It is also not supposed to end up with him acknowledging that his lust has turned into something deeper, something that guides half his actions and reactions to Clark. Something that could prove dangerous.

Lex closes his eyes and lets his head fall back. Was Clark like the others, then, only wanting him for his money? Or was it him, then? Was he acting so much like a Luthor that in the end everyone, even Clark, only saw his money and his name and nothing else? What if he was just his inheritance, and his company and his name?

"One is supposed to get over this sort of identity crisis after adolescence," he says and then grimaces. His voice sounds odd to him; a little burned perhaps, a little worn, a little painful. Full of things that aren't Luthor, things that are Lex. Just Lex. And it is frightening to hear them.

"Fuck it." And this anger is also Lex, so Lex doesn't pay attention to it. He lets himself fall asleep.

&*&*

Pretty farm boy in his farm boy clothes, standing there so casually, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face, ready to lie to him. Lex feels slightly sick. "So, what can I do for you, Clark?"

Clark smiles. "Nothing. I just thought of..." a shrug. "We could spend some time together. We haven't, since I took you to the caves."

"Indeed, we haven't." Lex smiles, and bites back the question that lingers on his tongue. What do you want from me, today? What can I do for you? That's the problem, isn't it? What can I do for you, he always starts this way. As if he has to do anything for others, as if...

"Lex? Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." But he's not. His world is shattering around him. Like when the tornado struck, and he was standing in a room full of broken glass, and fallen furniture and books, and the wind was howling around him, the sky was a deep, dark grey and Lex felt like he was in the cage again, back in South Australia, watching the sharks circling him, breathing through a tube, feeling like he was drowning with his inhaler, old panic memories rising up. He feels like that now, and not even the obvious (real?) concern in Clark's eyes can make the world stop spinning.

And as the world spins and he's getting dizzy Clark holds him, no, cradles him and he's so strong and warm and protective and, god, this feels nice, can it last? Please? If lies are so sweet, can't Lex believe in them for a bit more?

*&*&*

"How are you feeling?"

Mrs. Kent, Lex is ashamed to admit, reminds him of his mother. He didn't mind it so much; at least before he discovered that his father felt the same way. But Mrs. Kent is truly motherly, touching his forehead with the same easy as his mother and with the same warmth and lack of disgust. It's been years since anyone touched him without looking pained as they did that. Well, except for Clark, that is. "I'm fine," he finally says and is actually surprised when the words come out normally.

Clark snorts. "Right."

Before he can reply, or even move from his reclining position Lex hears his father's cane. Steady, grating sound. Like a heartbeat.

"So, Lex, whom did you piss off this time?" His father sounds awfully cheerful. No big surprise there.

"Excuse me?"

"You mean, you don't know?" Slow, content grin and Lex wants to hide from it. But he won't. His father sits down carefully and touches him on the shoulder. Lex won't flinch away either. But only because they have an audience. Only because he doesn't want to see the pity in Mrs. Kent's eyes. "Someone shot you." His father squeezes him and holds him down. Funny how Lex always feels so small in the presence of his father. "Don't worry, I have sent it to the lab for analysis. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you, son."

"Yeah, right, Dad."

"Is that scepticism I hear? Lex, Lex, Lex." And then his father turns around, looking straight at Mrs. Kent. "Martha," he says and she moves to help him up, smiling at Lex. Understanding.

But Clark is staring at him, and Lex feels his stomach contract. Lies, he has to remind himself; all lies. But, oh so pretty lies, especially when Clark sits beside him, filling up all the places that his father never bothered reaching, and looking at him with such concern that Lex could almost mistake it for honesty. Or love.

"You were shot here," Clark says and his fingers reach for a spot on his nape, close, but not quite touching. Lex senses a small current of air as Clark moves them over his skin - but still not touching - and he pretends that he feels the warmth emanating from Clark. And then Clark lowers his head and his voice and says - conspiratorially, but with a smile, so Lex is amused and doesn't think 'stop lying to me' - and Clark says, "Your father is an asshole."

Which makes Lex laugh. Period. Laugh. As if it's a revelation, or something newsworthy. And as he wheezes and almost falls off the couch, Clark leans even closer and kisses him on the forehead. And Lex doesn't stop laughing, because this is too funny, beyond funny, actually, fucking hysterical and he can't stop laughing, it's impossible to and Clark has to hold him and Lex would rather that Clark kissed him, but then Clark moves away and Lex falls back, still chortling and snorting and if that isn't one for the Wall of the Weird, then he doesn't know what is. Clark kissed him.

Lying Clark kissed him.

"Lex?"

Great. Mrs. Kent with her usual expression of worried anxiety. Yes, and Lex has seen it before, when she was kneeling in front of his father and Father was being seductively honest. The thought makes Lex sober. "Clark was telling me a joke," he says.

"Really?" She smiles, and maybe his father is right; she does look a bit like mom. And if Dad didn't respect her while she was still living, why should Lex worry about it now?

Clark frowns. Lex ignores him and stands up, still feeling a little groggy. Mrs. Kent is out off limits, he thinks, and he must find a way to let his father understand that. The same way he must find to tell Clark that, no, it's not okay to touch him, and hold him and help him upstairs. The way he should react to Clark's proximity and not by allowing a hand on his waist, warmth that burns him, heat that makes him light-headed.

Mrs. Kent frowns, but Clark looks at him and Lex can't be bothered to look anywhere else but at his reflection in Clark's eyes. As they walk out of the room, Lex feels that the world is them, and isn't that the sweetest lie of them all, sweeter even than Clark's lips on his skin, sharper than Clark's smell of soap and sweat and sticky deodorant.

"Why now?" he asks as Clark opens the door to his bedroom - add that to the list of unexplained lies, Lex says to himself.

"Why not now? When I saw you falling, I thought..." Clark closes the door and blushes, but his body tells another story, his body is pulling Lex closer and his hand burns five holes into Lex's skin, "I thought that if I lost you..."

Clark's speech is cheap and broken and like something out of a bad novel, or a soap-opera, but his eyes are huge and green and honest, so honest that Lex can't deny Clark as he leans forward and kisses him. On the mouth. Sweetness takes a new meaning, and had Lex ever been so young? So passionate? So...? Clark continues to cradle him, and even that is nice.

Lex had never considered his bedroom small, but he does now, because the distance from the door to the bed seems so small, almost negligible, and it can be crossed within the space of a kiss. A deep, long kiss, the kind you see in films accompanied by violin music and the camera whirling around the air in ecstatic dizziness. Prelude to a fuck, he thinks, but Clark probably won't appreciate it, even if he doesn't act as innocent as Lex would have imagined him to be.

The bed is soft and cool, but Clark is more than warm, and he's just as soft in his own way. Lex feels that he's discovering a new country, full of ridges and crannies and mounds and rivulets. Clark's sweat makes his fingers slide and get tangled into dark thickets that smell of musk and spices unknown.

And in the end it doesn't matter who's in control, because they simply glide against each other, Clark a magical wild beast that submits to Lex's touch, and Lex a creature unashamed when Clark rides him. Their bodies are slick, and whenever they touch Lex feels that he's sliding inside a tunnel, a dark, spinning tunnel that smells like summer. And he comes to a stop, Clark follows him, and it's just too perfect for words. Lex shuts up and kisses Clark instead.

Lex doesn't know how much time has passed. He's been too busy mapping Clark's body with his mouth, and his cheek and his hands. And Clark's been too busy letting him, moaning and shivering and squirming and changing his topography to Lex's delight. He only knows that when he licks Clark the sun makes Clark's skin shine. And then he feels a slight prick at the back of his neck.

His last thought is, oh, no, not again.

*&*&*

This time he doesn't come around lying on the sofa. It's dark and his hands and legs are tied so tightly that he feels that his blood flows with difficulty past his bonds. Even breathing hurts and when he tries to turn, he realises that he's in a very narrow space. A dark, narrow space that gives off a metallic sound when he kicks it. Perfect. Because it wasn't enough that his life was built on lies, like his dad loving him, and Clark being honest with him, and that, no, he wasn't jealous of his dad paying too much attention to Mrs. Kent, but he had to be hit (again), kidnapped (again), and tied (again).

And since he's been in this position way too often, he knows that shouting will only make his throat hurt and aggravate his fear of reducing his oxygen supply. On the other hand, it would give him something to do.

But Luthors show no fear; his father's voice tells him. They show no emotions, know no love, and never, ever shout. They're not like other people; they're a caste of their own. And they're also supposed to have better security, damn it. If this continues, Lex will end up like his father, dragging his bodyguards wherever he goes, and wearing his power like an armour. Lex doesn't want that.

Lex wants to be great, true, but he also wants to have a lover he can kiss and snuggle to. He wants to be admired and not feared; perhaps even to be loved. He wants to be like Alexander the Great, and not like his father. A leader of men, not of mindless drones. He wants to be great, but not at the cost of his humanity. Mother would disapprove.

In the end, Lex closes his eyes and thinks of Clark. Pretty Clark. Lying Clark. There's something about Clark that never quite fits. Like Clark's eyes staring at him as he was falling, horrified, and apologetic at the same time. As if Clark could really do something. And maybe he could have.

The idea is frightening. It makes Lex shiver. How could Clark do this to him? Because Lex is not an idiot; he knows what Clark can do, even when he rarely admits it. He knows there's something off with Clark, something that has to do with octagons, and alien alloys and meteor rocks. Something that doesn't fit with the behaviours and mutations of the others.

Take Lex, for example. He too is a mutant, even though he rarely admits it. His white cell count is always high and he heals fast. Very fast. Not a very impressive mutation all things considered. But it has served him well, and it had made Dad realise early on that beating Lex was pointless. So, no, it was not a bad mutation.

But Lex has never felt affected by the meteor rocks. Never felt in pain by the proximity with them. Never felt stronger than he really is. Never strong enough to rip metal, or fast enough to be a blur in the security camera photos. Never been in a place where electric appliances have dents the size of a shoulder and axes are found splintered. Never displayed anything that could compare to Clark's abilities.

And yet he pretends that he doesn't notice, because Clark has these huge eyes and that blinding smile and Lex is too far gone. So pathetically emotional when it comes to Clark, that he can almost let this pass. Almost pretend that Clark was also truly threatened and couldn't help him, couldn't stop this from happening (again), couldn't come after him.

This time Lex screams. And screams, and screams, until his throat is raw and it hurts to swallow. But it's worth it. "Fuck you, Clark," he whispers when he can't shout any more.

The time passes. It passes so slowly and the darkness never changes. Lex feels cold. It must have been someone working in the Manor that attacked him both times. The security is better now that Dad's living with him, but apparently it's not good enough. Once he gets out of this box, he'll fire everyone and let Dad complain all he likes. And he will hire a new security chief for himself. Someone who'll be able to do his job and not allow Lex to get kidnapped all the bloody time.

"Lex?"

"Clark." Lex finds himself kicking the stupid box as strongly as he can. Forget what he said before; if Clark gets him out, he'll owe him one. And disregard his failure to help. At least he came after him.

God, sometimes Lex is really sick of himself. Could he be any more pathetic?

Apparently yes, because Clark removes the lid - and Lex is certain he sees him do that with his bare hands, but the sudden light makes him go blind, and so maybe he just imagined things. Again! So, Clark removes the lid, or top, or cover of the box and gives Lex such a hug as he pulls him out that Lex feels his ribs crack, but it's okay, it's nice to be out, it's nice to be hugged, to be able to smell the sun on Clark's skin. And then they kiss (and Lex is ashamed to admit he initiated it), and it's just as wonderful as all the other kisses they've shared before, only the tape is really bothering him, and Clark steals his breath away - literally - and so Lex squirms until Clark gets the message.

"Sorry," Clark says with a smiling so blinding that it is like the sun crept in Clark's body and took up permanent residence there. Lex can't hate him. Not even for a few seconds. It's how beautiful Clark is. How pathetic Lex is.

"Where am I?"

"Did you know that there's a crypt under the chapel?"

Lex shivers as Clark unties him. Because of the crypt, of course, not because of anything else. "No." He looks back, though, curiosity getting the best of him. And, yes, predictably enough, he was lying in a grave. Not a nice image and Lex turns around, feasting on Clark's perfect skin, that small area between the collar of his tee-shirt and his neck. That small area that should have had at least two hickeys. And a love bite.

He traces the spots where he knows he kissed Clark, but Clark only smiles at him with love and relief. He doesn't get it. He doesn't get it. And so he pushes Clark away, but Clark doesn't move. In fact, Lex's fists hurt. "Would you mind explaining this?"

"This what?"

"This." He hits Clark again. Closed fist on hickey spot.

Clark frowns. "There's nothing to explain."

"Clark, I bit you." And if this continues for a moment longer, Lex will lose it and start screaming again. So many lies in his face and he just can't stand it anymore. Lies about his health, lies about his being a mutant, lies about his father, lies about Pamela, everyone lies or betrays him and he's supposed to take it. Always, always. Because he cares. Because he can't how emotions. Because...

Well, not this time. "Fuck you, Clark." He takes a step back, bumps on the grave's lid, and then, don't run, walk out, breathe in, breathe out, and the crypt's door is not that far, maybe two kisses, or two lies away, and then he's out, into the sun, but he still feels cold. Naked, open, vulnerable. The castle is not far and if anyone finds it odd that he's out like this it doesn't matter because there'll be new personnel within three hours and the fuck with all of them too.

"Lex?"

"Yes, Dad?" Lex lets his head drop. Yes, the day can still get worse. And he's naked in front of his father who's approaching him and sniffing him, for fuck's sake.

"Lex," his father smiles with that half-amused, half-disapproving smile, "you smell like sex." Innocent blinking. "Like you've been having sex."

His father's blind stare lingers on him. Where's a sheet when you need one? "Yes, I've been having sex. Jealous?"

Dad smirks. "I'm glad you're back. I wanted to show you something."

"In a moment."

"Come on, Lex. Don't tell me you're ashamed of me?"

"No." Not really. No, because Dad is not really looking at him, is he? Even though it feels like he's taking inventory of everything that Lex is. Shivering, Lex follows his father.

His father's head of security pretends that he doesn't notice Lex. Lecherous bugger. Lex decides that he'll fire him too.

"Son, because I'm blind, you'll have to tell me what you see. I don't trust them," Dad says pointing at his head of security.

Lex smiles at the man. "Out."

Dad nods and the man goes, but not before checking Lex out one more time. Definitely fired.

"Now, would you mind starting the tape?"

"Dad, are you sure we can't do this some other time?"

"No, Lex. I'm certain it will be... enlightening." Small smile that would make Lex's hairs rise, if he had any.

So Lex pushes the play button and it truly is enlightening.

Dad settles on the chair. "Sounds like porn, doesn't it? Turn up the volume, Lex."

"Dad. This is..." He takes a deep breath because his voice is still scratchy and he can't start shouting again. "Dad, do you mind? This is my life. As in 'personal' life."

"But, Lex, you're my son. You can't have secrets from me." His dad's grin would make a shark proud.

"It's not a matter of having secrets, it's a matter of having some privacy. When did you get my room bugged?"

"Lex, I only did this to protect you. An underage farmboy? The son of my assistant? Lex, that's a lawsuit waiting to happen. Or, worse, Jonathan coming after you." Dad turns to stare at him, and Lex blushes from the intensity of his father's stare. "I only want to protect what's mine. And you're my son, Lex, don't you ever forget it."

"As if I ever could, Dad."

"Sarcasm suits you, son. If you could also be more honest." Dad shakes his head and turns back to the screen.

Lex wishes he had hair so he could tear it out. Instead, he can only run his hand over his head and massage the back of his neck, eyes resolutely away from the screen where he and Clark engage in...

"Did he fuck you or did you fuck him?"

"Neither."

"Ah." His dad blinks. "From the sounds of it... Frottage, Lex? Something so tame? Are you indulging your farm boy friend?"

"Only you could make it sound so dirty," Lex whispers. "It's just sex, Dad. Don't you find sex natural? After all, you had so much of it. Even when you were married."

"Don't tell me you're still upset over that. Now, Lex, tell me what you see."

"Nothing. Just sex." God, Clark looks divine when he comes. Lex will have this tape copied, and then watch it till it's ruined. Since he won't be doing much of anything with Clark from now on, he might as well have this.

Dad snorts. "Just sex. Fine, Lex."

In the screen they are snuggling and someone hits Lex with a dart from behind. Clark doesn't move, but his eyes are roaming the room. His gaze stops in front of the camera and Clark's expressions turns horrified. Clark stays even more still as someone points a gun at him. But he continues to stare at the camera.

"Strange what a camera can do. Isn't it?" Dad says as he reaches into his pocket and puts something on the table. "As if your friend was more afraid of it than of the bullets."

Lex frowns. Bullets. On the table. Flattened on one side, intact on the other. As if they...

"A very intriguing young man, this Clark Kent. Have you wondered how he found the camera?"

Or his watch, or... "No. he's my friend, Dad. I don't make it a habit to examine my friends' lives."

Dad chuckles. "Or their secrets? Lex, have I taught you nothing?"

"Don't worry, Dad, you've taught me more than you can imagine."

"Now, play this tape," Dad tells him and Lex stops the video. It's better than seeing himself being dragged off unconscious while Clark is afraid of a fucking camera.

This time it's the crypt. Clark appears so fast that at the beginning Lex thinks it's whirlwind, or something else. A whirlwind that solidifies into Clark's form and Clark seems too focused on the series of graves to check the ceiling. He looks worried.

"There was another tape. Your friend is very strong. Rendered two of my men unconscious and then rushed down - literally - to save you. How admirable."

He doesn't want to see how Clark speeds to the grave where he was in less than a second and then lifts the marble slab and throws it easily behind him. But he does. "Why, Dad?"

Dad smiles at him. "Because I told you I'd find out. And I know that you know. So, I thought that maybe this," he points at the screen, "would be incentive enough for you to share your knowledge with me." His dad leans forward, and Lex feels violated. "Imagine the two of us working together. What do you say, son?"

"And what do you think this means, Dad?"

"That your young friend is a mutant." A leer. "A mutant with a very obvious weakness. Would it be wrong to use it? After all, he's just a mutant, Lex. Not even human. Think about it."

"I will, Dad," he says and his voice breaks. "Now, if you excuse me."

"Yes, sure. I'll just watch a bit more." Dad leans back, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Sex is a good thing, but you should go clean yourself now, son."

Lex leaves his dad in the room and he doesn't even know how he feels. "Thanks, Dad, that was all I needed," he says as he goes to his room. A mutant for ex-boyfriend, a father who's pretending to be blind (not to mention leering at him), and a life that can't get weirder.

"Okay, scratch that. It can," he says as he opens the door and finds Clark hovering outside his window. A mutant ex-boyfriend who can apparently float. Clark raps on the window. "Which part of 'fuck you' didn't you understand, Clark?"

"After I saved you? Don't you think you owe me something?"

"What about you? Don't you owe me something? Like, are you aware that normal people don't float?"

Clark's face falls and after a second falls out of sight. When Lex opens the window, Clark is sprawled on the rose bushes, shaking his head and blinking at him. "Poor baby, did that hurt?"

"No," Clark answers and Lex hates him so, so much at that moment that he can't find words to say it.

"Lex, please, I can explain."

Another cheesy line. Lex nods, and then shakes his head. He wishes he had hair so he could scratch it. "All right, explain."

"Not in your room. Your room is ..."

"Bugged, I know."

Clark suddenly grins. "You know, this reminds me of a play we did at school. Romeo and Juliet. She came out of her room the same way you did."

"Naked? Clark, are you sure you didn't bang your head when you fell down?"

Clark laughs. "I'm sure. Lex, come down and let me explain. Jump."

"You're mad."

"Jump. I'll catch you."

Lex shakes his head. "No, I'm mad," he says as he climbs over the rail of the balcony and jumps, ending up in Clark's arms like some bloody damsel in distress. "Okay, I jumped, you caught me, put me down now."

"I like you in my arms," Clark says nuzzling his face.

"You're a lunatic. Put me down, Clark."

Clark pouts. "Can I hold you a little longer?"

"No, Clark. Now, Clark."

Clark licks Lex's face and then lets him down. Gently, as though Lex is breakable. And that he is, compared to Clark. Clark suddenly turns serious. Very serious. "I'm sorry for lying."

"Yes, so am I, but what's the truth?"

Clark looks him straight in the eyes. "I'm an alien."

Lex blinks. "Okay. You're an alien. My father's pretending to be blind, his head of security gave me an eyefuck and I'm naked. Talking. To. An. Alien. Okay. I got that."

"Lex? Are you okay?"

"No, I'm in a comfortable state of shock. But you can talk to me." Nice, comfortable smile. Right there, on the verge of hysteria.

"I'm sorry."

"Yes, Clark. Sorry you should be." Lex nods. Staring into Clark's eyes somehow makes things easier. "You do understand that I need some time to process this, don't you?"

"Yes." Clark looks contrite. Very, very much so.

"And until I process that, we have to keep our distance, you understand that?"

"Yes."

Lex swallows. "Good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get drunk. Until I pass out, preferably. Good bye, Clark."

And wasn't it just so perfect that this conversation had taken place in his house and not at the Kent farm? For he would never be able to drive, not with his body going on automatic, and his mind saying 'Alien, Clark is an alien,' over and over and over again.

Right now, Lex would have preferred the lies.

&*&*

Epilogue

"But, Lex..."

"No, Clark. And stop whining, it's not very attractive," Lex says, even though it is a lie. It is very, very attractive. Especially when Clark is wearing extra tight jeans, is bending over the pool table and, instead of focusing on his next shot gives him those long, heated looks.

"Lex?"

And the boy is also pleading so nicely that Lex finds it hard to keep to his decision. "No, Clark. No sex for the next year and a half. You know, for as long as you've been lying to me."

"I didn't do it on purpose."

"No, but you did hurt my feelings. Don't you deserve some punishment?"

"Why can't I be punished like your other lovers? Sticks and stones may break my bones - well, they don't really - but whips and chains excite me."

"Clark!" Lex shakes his head. "Besides, you're still under-age and who knows what my father will do."

"Lex. Are you in the pool room?"

"Speaking of the devil. Yes, Dad. I'm here. With Clark."

Clark rolls his eyes upwards.

"Ah, enjoy your game then." The sound of the walking stick fades.

"You never told me, how did you make him keep quiet about me?"

Lex gives Clark a smile. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Clark shivers. "No." He shoots and then looks at Lex as Lex prepares to drink. The moment Lex starts to swallow, he hears Clark, "When you smile like that, you look just like your dad."

Lex chokes. He doesn't want to look like his dad. But Clark is there to save him. With his hugging, mouth to mouth technique. Lex wants to complain that this definitely breaks the 'no sex' rule, but, what the hell? Rules are meant to be broken, anyway.


The end