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(38) - (Clark/Lex)
It wasn't the Luthor Mansion, but it was big and empty, and had the same watery light. Clark sat cross-legged in the middle of an upstairs hallway, eating Ritz crackers and waiting.
Lex hadn't said anything yet, but it was coming.
"I didn't know you had property in Winnipeg." Clark's voice echoed off the tile. "Then again, I wouldn't have bet on Smallville, either."
Silence.
"Want some of my crackers?"
Lex smiled, sharp and practiced. "You're wondering why I brought you here."
"Uh, yeah."
"I know everything about you. You know that, right?" Lex tilted his head. "The strength. The meteor shower. Where you didn't come from."
He could see it in Lex now--the hard line of his mouth, the certainty in his eyes, the hurt in the tense set of his shoulders. Clark swallowed.
"How?"
"Does it matter? I know. I asked you so many times. Did you think I would expose you? I never would have hurt you, Clark. Not for the world." Lex leaned back against the wall. "I asked you."
"Why did you bring me all the way out here, Lex?"
"Because it's all the way out here. Because...I wanted to see if you'd come."
"I did."
"Yeah." Lex nodded slowly. "You did."
"I'm glad you know. I'm glad, Lex." Clark crouched next to Lex, trying to smile. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you myself."
"Oh, so am I. You don't know how much."
Mouth on his, furious and liquid. Clark tried to push back and couldn't, nausea rising in him; there was a green gleam at Lex's throat, and no strength in Clark at all.
"I had it made," Lex said softly against Clark's throat, "just for you; do you like it?"
"Lex--God, please, Lex, don't--" and he was in it again, sick and hot, hurting. Lex kissed him, drove his leg between Clark's thighs and his tongue into Clark's mouth until he couldn't breathe, couldn't think around the pain and the thick, rising need. Until he was fighting for more, not less, and couldn't find any strength for it.
His hand found the necklace and stripped it away. Lex laughed, and let him, and the pain faded. The weakness was gone.
Lex wasn't. "Halfway there." He leaned down and bit at Clark's mouth, grinning fiercely. "No point in turning back now."
Clark couldn't breathe.
"'Please, Lex, don't,'" Lex mocked softly. "Do you ever stop lying, Clark?"
Lex moved. Clark met him, blind with it, stupid, but the rub was just right, it was perfect: Lex pulling it out of him, knotting his mind and grinding pleasure into his body. "Is this difficult, Clark? Are you confused?"
"God..."
Lex reached between them and squeezed, stroked; he bit Clark's nipple through his T-shirt. "So young; I shouldn't, but you know what I think?" He unzipped Clark's jeans and reached inside; his hand was cold, shocking, and Clark cried out, flexed into it. "I think, if you're old enough to lie to me? You're old enough to fuck--"
It was as much the word as anything, ripping the convulsions out of him. As much as the drive down onto Clark's cock, the sharp teeth at his shoulder, the shudder in Lex's body as he shouted--
Clark's name.
And then lay there, panting, a shaking, angular weight on Clark's chest, his face pressed into Clark's shirt. His wet face. "Clark."
Clark reached up and cupped his hand over the smooth, fragile shell of Lex's skull.
"I'm old enough," he said softly. "It's okay, Lex. I'm old enough."