Title: Let That Be Your Last Battlefield

Author: MeLi

E-mail: remmirath@fibertel.com.ar

Website: http://meli-clex.tripod.com

Fandom: Smallville

Pairing: CLex

Rating: R (to be on the safe side – for Language)

Summary: A determined Luthor is a... scary thing?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Clark, Lex and everything Smallville-related is property of Warner Bros., Gough Millar Inc., etc.

AN: Part of the CLex Fest Sixth Wave at http://www.kardasi.com/Lexclusive/ClexFest/storyindex.htm

Challenge: Title: Let That Be Your Last Battlefield (Star Trek - The Original Series)

AN II: Zillions of chocolatey thank-yous go to Ruhgozler for helping me with this even though she’s not into this fandom. Without her I wouldn’t have been able to write anything at all.

LET THAT BE YOUR LAST BATTLEFIELD

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“I shall beat you!” Lex’s cry resounded through the room

The battle had started. Sides had been taken.

Now all Lex had to do was win.

But he had never imagined it would be so damn hard to dominate the stupid thing.

He usually got on much better with foreign things. Look at his clothes. Look at his cars. For God’s sake, even his house was foreign!

But, oh no, the damn thing wouldn’t concede defeat. No, it just had to be stubbornly difficult to control.

He’d been at it for almost half an hour already, and considering he was used to having every whim satisfied within 1.2 seconds (he’d been taught from the cradle to expect instant gratification, after all), that was saying something. Still, he was determined, and he would. Not. Give. Up.

He had tried gentleness. He had tried threatening. He had even tried reversed psychology and bribing (both of which were very stupid considering what he was dealing with), all to no avail.

He considered calling some of his staff to control the thing for him, but decided against it. This was his personal battle and he was resolute. He would win this on his own.

He sighed and sat down, thinking what course of action to follow next. He got sidetracked fantasizing how wonderful it would be if he managed to control the damn entity.

How much pleasure it would bring him.

How superb its fluids would taste.

His fantasies soon turned into frustration. And Lex had only one way of dealing with frustration.

Violence.

Physical violence, in this case.

So he hit the thing.

And, of course, nothing happened.

So he cursed.

And then he cursed some more.

As he was promising to sue the manufacturers of the stupid artifact, an amused voice came from the kitchen door.

“If you’re quite done declaring war to the poor coffee machine, I have something for you.”

Lex turned around to find his lover, amused smirk uncharacteristically gracing his face, leaning against the door. With an arm extended towards him handing him bliss in a plastic cup.

The Talon coffee, take out version.

He barely spared a glance to Clark before grabbing the cup, his face one of orgasmic ecstasy as the smell of the precious brew reached him.

A mock-hurt expression took over Clark’s features at that, and he said, “I thought I was the only one supposed to make you look like that?”

“Like what?” Les asked absently before taking a heavenly sip of the glorious beverage.

“Well-fucked,” Clark said bluntly, knowing any finesse would go unappreciated by Lex right now.

Lex’s only answer was a non-committal “Hmm.”

“Anyway, I thought you’d promised not to venture into the kitchen after that dinner-making fiasco? Didn’t we decide that would be your last battlefield?”

“For your – apparently very much needed – information, there’s no battlefield today. I embarked on a battle with the stupid machine, yes, but the battle has no field. If I had made any mess of the kitchen, then I might consider the possibility of it being a battlefield. However, with the way things stand, I find no truth whatsoever in your statement of my fight with the coffee maker taking place in a combat zone since there’s no evidence of any such thing. And I resent your comment on my making dinner being a fiasco.”

Having said that, Lex once again turned to his cup of coffee.

Clark resisted the urge to point out that he wasn’t talking about a literal battlefield, opting instead to calmly walk to the coffee machine, gently press a button and turn around to smirk smugly at his lover just as coffee started pouring into an appropriately placed cup.

Lex’s narrowed eyes was the last thing he saw before he was pounced on.

END

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