Author: Jen
Title: Unnatural Selection
Pairing(s): Clark/Lex (implied)
Notes: This is my first completed work of fan fiction. Period. Ever. I'm proud and a little scared…but enough of that.
Warnings: Angst, Masturbation, implied m/m sex (but since this is for a slash fest I'd imagine you expected that much at least). This story was written to satisfy a title challenge for SG-1/ST: TNG. Thank you to my beta, Angela. You really came through for me. Any remaining mistakes are 100%
my own.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Clark contemplates some hard choices…
Disclaimer: I own no one (slavery has been illegal for well over a century) and even the WB can't squeeze blood from a turnip, so since I'm not making a brass farthing off of this venture there's no point in suing. Further no Kryptonians or bald billionaires were harmed in the creation of this piece of fiction, nor was it my intention to impugn the honor/integrity of these characters whom I love so well, so call off the attack dogs…
Feedback: send all praise, comments and constructive criticism to cleverlilvixen@yahoo.com… flames can go straight to hell where they belong! Again this is a first attempt, so… be gentle ;-)

UNNATURAL SELECTION

The water in the tub steamed all around him. He sank deeper into it completely undisturbed. If he were a normal man the near boiling water would have been scalding every inch of bare flesh he had submerged in it. But it didn't, and he wasn't. A normal man, that is. As it was,

Clark Kent found the heat soothing, a balm to his senses as the steam filled his nose, fogged his eyes, and made every muscle in his body relax. Not for the first time, in what was starting to become a long bath,

Clark stared at the white walls of the bathroom and allowed his eyes to lose focus and his concentration to slip into the tumult of thoughts and feelings at the back of his mind. He had, of course, been aware of the debate raging back there for some years; but only just recently the conflict had begun to reach a fever pitch. Up until now he had done his best to ignore the guilt of lying to those nearest to him and the solitude of bearing his secret, to push those feelings aside and tell himself that he could just go on with things the way they were, that living the lie would be easier than dealing with people knowing the truth and their reactions to it. A similar battle focused on his identity had been being waged since he found out about his true origins, but this one had been going on much longer and had little to do with his alien heritage (at least that's what Jor-El had told him when he'd asked). This one had started with his first crush when he was 12 years old. When he first knew he was gay.

Since then, for over half of his lifetime, Clark had been faced with some really tough choices. Should he tell the people he cared about the truth, or what they wanted to hear? He had always known what his parents wanted for him- to grow up, find a wife, and make a loving family for himself, like they had. They had told him that was their fondest wish for him all of his life

He asked his dad once early on, when he was just starting to figure out that he was somehow different, why men and women fell in love and got married. He had replied, “It's just the natural way of things son. To find a woman who loves you, that you can love back… well, it makes your life a blessing. Life without that just seems awful cold and lonely, doncha think?” he asked, ruffling Clark's hair. Clark had just given him a good-natured half smile and nodded his head; silently vowing never to tell his father that, to him, the idea of spending his whole life with a woman who loved him was not only cold and lonely it was awkward and frightening.

For years afterward, Clark tried his best to put on a front to please his parents. He even did the whole “falling in love with the girl next door” bit with Lana Lang. She seemed like a safe enough target since she had Whitney Fordman for a boyfriend, and was therefore less likely to return his feigned affections. If he had ever in anyway been interested in women in the romantic sense he probably would have left Lana to Whitney and tried a relationship with Chloe, the blond who had liked him so much throughout high school. He would've had to be blind to not see that she liked him, he just played the part of an oblivious boy very well, and though he had never been attracted to any woman in particular he remembered that she was pretty. Yes, he could appreciate a woman's charms; he had just never found them desirable. Not like men.

He remembered the first day he saw him, too. It had hit him like a bolt of lightening (well, it was actually more like a Porsche). Clark still remembered how he looked in his arms as he dragged him out of that twisted metal tomb to safety on the riverbank, pale and beautiful, like an angel. That was the man he was destined to love for the rest of his life, and he had known it in that instant. And that was just Lex asleep.

With a dreamy smile painting his face Clark found himself concentrating a bit more intently on the one true object of his affections. Though he had continued through the years, for the sake of those he cared for, to uphold the carefully constructed façade that he had so painstakingly created, he had dwelt on Lex to the point of distraction constantly.

Whether he was courting Lana Lang or Lois Lane, Lex Luthor was always the most prominent icon in his mind. He thought ironically that if he ever had the inclination to invest in monogrammed towels, at least they would be transferable.

The thought made him laugh out loud and shook him slightly from his reverie. Brought a bit more into reality, Clark realized that thinking so keenly about Lex- the way he looked, the way he moved, they way he sounded when they had once confided in each other as friends, had left him with the beginnings of quite an impressive erection. Not that it was an unusual occurrence for thoughts of Lex to do that to him, but usually when it happened he employed one of his two greatest weapons, repression or guilt, to squelch his desires and their rather obvious physical side effect. However, here, quite alone and in his own apartment, he saw no need to fight this one small indulgence and the hot water cradling his body felt so inviting.

He started out slow. Ever so lightly brushing a finger across a delightfully sensitive nipple, and hissing out the gasp it stimulated when the answering ache began stirring in his groin. He busily ran his hands over his own torso under the water and as he did so, closed his eyes. Once again in the back of his mind he was transported to a different place and a different time. He was in a small warm room. It was nearly pitch black, but in the dim light Clark could make out a form in the room with him. As he became accustomed to the darkness a sense of safety permeated his being. He could do anything here without rebuke, and be in no danger of hurting or losing anyone. His eyes began to focus in the dim light and he could now see the man beside him was Lex. Not Luthor, his nemesis; but Lex, his friend and confidant of so many years gone by, and he was looking at him admiringly with those fiery eyes.

This dream of Lex wasted no time in making his intentions clear as his hands began to roam over Clark's body with abandon. For his part Clark welcomed every touch with a sharp gasp or a low moan to encourage Lex's progress. In reward for his efforts Lex sank down to his knees before him and began planting feather light kisses over his thighs and ever hardening cock.

In the tub, Clark made a ring with his middle finger and thumb and began running it up and down the shaft of his pulsing member, while using the thumb of his other hand to swirl around the head of his penis and stimulate the sensitive slit. But in his mind, Lex was swallowing him whole and using his incredible tongue to bring him pleasure that was unlike any he had ever known could exist before. Clark could barely control the volume of his moans and he imagined himself reaching out for support from strong shoulders and running his hands over the smooth scalp of his beloved. He pleaded for more in everything from the most sincere whisper to the most ecstatic scream. As he felt his climax building, he looked down his body to the man below him. Lex looked back up at him with that gleam in his eye and the almost predatory smirk, which Clark had come to find so alluring, curving the edges of his sensuous lips even as he continued to work at Clark's engorged member.

The image was so overwhelmingly real Clark almost found himself groaning in frustration when he stopped himself before climax, but he stifled it knowing that that wasn't the way he wanted Lex to make him cum. His breath grew short and shallow just at the thought of this most forbidden of acts, and ragged at the thought that Lex might ever want this too. He held his hand under the water just before his throbbing cock and made a fist. Then closing his eyes he was once again transported to that dark little space and positioning the head of his penis gently against the warm, tight hole that he just knew Lex's ass would be. He imagined what it would be like to caress that beautiful, dark puckered flesh with his finger or his tongue and to hear Lex moan or cry out his name. The thought sent a sweet shudder through his body to his groin. Clark moaned as he increased his pace, thrusting harder and harder into his hand. The Lex in his mind began thrusting back against him feverishly, trying to match his tempo, and plunging him deeper and deeper into the man he loved until he could no longer tell where he ended and Lex began. And all the time the air was full of the sounds of their passion, moans, and grunts, and softly whispered “I Love you”s.

With a few more hard thrusts Clark finally came. That perfect image burning in his brain began to sputter and dissolve as the spasms of his orgasm shook his body and left him once again alone in his own bathroom, pumping his own spurting cock, companionless, with only his own hand and the warm water enveloping him there to afford him any comfort. He just sat in the tub for a long time after it was over.

He did his best to think of nothing. It didn't work. Thoughts came unbidden, and so did the shame. He felt like he had betrayed them all in that one act of private indiscretion: his father, Lana, Lois, and most especially Lex. How would he feel if he knew what Clark had just done? Clark's head was full of disappointed faces and disapproving platitudes. He shuddered and pulled the plug from the drain.

People made choices everyday and had to live by the consequences. Clark had made his years ago. It may not have been the most natural choice for him, but it was his and he would live by it. Bolstered by that thought, he rose from the tepid water as the last of it circled down the drain. Mask once again firmly in place, he left the bathroom, his safe place, and all the activities that had transpired therein, behind, as lost to him as that bathwater. He closed the door behind him and set about preparing to face a new day.

END