New Fic: "True Love", SV, CLex
Here's a story I wrote for a Valentine's challenge over at yahoo-groups. Enjoy though Valentine's Day is already over.
Bev
Title: "True Love"
Author: Bev *too*
Beta: Twinsarein
Prompt: No. 29 "For you and I have a guardian angel on high with nothing to hide" - High Society 1956
Summary: Lex's musings on Valentine's Day
Sometimes it seems to be almost a miracle that Lex survived his young adulthood. Thinking back to all those crazy mutants, hired assassins - with fondest greetings from his father, thank you very much - and all the other catastrophes, he thinks it astounding that he really managed to celebrate his 35th birthday.
Sitting on the couch, gazing into the fireplace, with a scotch in his hand, he allows himself the rare joy of indulging in some long-ago memories.
He thinks back to the time when he faced that lunatic in his factory in Smallville who held Clark's class hostage. He walked in without a Kevlar, and was miraculously saved. He remembers the feeling of Clark pulling him up on that narrow metal path with a strength that wasn't human. And he remembers the weird excuses Clark gave him afterwards.
He leans his head back and closes his eyes, sighing contentedly. He’d lost count of how many times Clark had saved him over the years. How many times he had been there without explanation, at the right time at the right place. How many times something unexplainable had happened, and just by accident Clark had been there.
Yeah, just by accident my ass. Lex laughs lightly, and takes another sip of his scotch. Over the years, he had come to the conclusion that he might have something like a guardian angel watching over him. It took him a lot longer to discover that he indeed did have a guardian angel. A guardian angel with green eyes and black hair. From another planet.
He thinks back to his second marriage. The one with Helen. She tried to kill him on their honeymoon. This had come as a bit of a surprise, because usually his wives waited until he had managed to really piss them off ... which was normally about three weeks into the marriage, and two weeks after the honeymoon.
He remembers Lana, his third wife. Lana and her doe-eyed adoration, who had made him feel so strong in the beginning, and had SO gotten on his nerves in the end.
And then Clark.
Another sip from his scotch. He enjoys the burning sensation as it slowly runs down his throat, warming him from the inside out.
Clark. His angel. His guardian angel. The one who always stood by him no matter what. Sure, they had their rough times ... which couple doesn't? But in the end? It's all about love.
He swirls the glass lazily, watching the amber liquid slosh around, and smiles. It has to be the scotch talking. Usually he's not that sappy.
Sappiness is Clark's department. And boy is he good at it. Lex closes his eyes. His hero should be home soon, and even before he finishes the thought, he can hear a soft swoosh, and seconds later a pair of cool lips presses against his temple.
"Hey, love. Sorry, I'm late."
Lex smiles, but keeps his eyes closed. "Rescued some kittens from trees again, Clark?"
A soft chuckle is his answer. "I don't rescue kittens, Lex ... you know that."
"Oh yeah?" Lex asks back, and without opening his eyes he reaches out to touch the slender fur ball which is curled up next to him, and the kitten purrs slightly when he feels Lex's hand on his fur. "I think Val wouldn't quite agree with you. Right, Val?"
The purring gets a little louder when Lex finds the right spot just behind her ear. The one spot which always turns her into a puddle of happy kittiness.
Lex opens his eyes and sees Clark coming in from the bedroom. He’d already got rid of the ridiculous suit he always wears as Metropolis's Savior, and is back to being his very own Clark Kent, soon to be Luthor if Lex has any say in it.
Clark sits down on the floor next to the couch, and puts his head in Lex's lap so the older man can gently run his fingers through the dark, tangled locks. The sound Clark makes as his hair is stroked reminds Lex of Val. The small, black cat with the amazing green eyes was Clark's last year's gift for Valentine's Day. He did indeed save her from a tree. She’d been only a handful of fur, and though Lex isn't exactly a cat person he had fallen for her instantly. It’s also the reason she has the rather unusual name of "Valentine", usually shortened to Val.
They sit like that for almost half an hour. Lex knows that Clark needs this. Needs this little time-out when he comes home from his nightly duties. He knows that some of the things his lover sees at night haunt him for days afterwards.
For a while the only sound in the room is Val's soft purring.
"Are you hungry?" Lex finally asks. He thinks of the table ... the delicious food he had Maria prepare, and that was long cold by this point. But that's alright. He told her to make food that tastes just as good cold as it does warm.
A quiet rumble is the only answer he gets. Then a sigh. "I'm a terrible boyfriend," Clark mutters after another moment of silence, and Lex lifts an eyebrow in surprise. Wow! Where the hell did that come from? Before he can ask him though, Clark continues to speak without opening his eyes. "I know that you planned a romantic dinner for us ... and even on on a day as special as Valentine's Day I still can’t manage to be on time. I suck."
Those last two words send a pleasant shiver down Lex's spine because ... damn right, Clark *can* suck. He proved it last night, and Lex can still feel those talented lips wrapped around his cock. But he knows that isn’t what Clark meant. He tries to move him around, but to no avail. After a few moments he gives up, and pushes Clark's head off of his lap to slide down next to him. He thinks for a second, and straddles his lover.
Slowly, tiredly, Clark opens one eye. Lex touches his face gently, takes it in his hands, and kisses Clark. Deeply. Lovingly.
"No, you don't, love," he whispers when he has to break off to breathe. "You don't suck as a boyfriend. And if so ... then only in the most enjoyable sense of the word."
Clark blushes a little. Lex loves that he still can make Clark blush. Even after all these years, after all the things he sees daily, after all the things they've already done in bed ... deep down inside his lover is still the innocent farmboy. Suddenly Clark comes up, moves closer, and deepens the kiss.
"Thank you," he murmurs against Lex's mouth, and the older man frowns slightly.
"What for?" he asks back.
"For saving me," Clark simply answers, and kisses him again. "You helped me become what I am today."
Clark's costume instantly comes to mind, and he smiles a little. "A colorblind, flying queer?" he teases gently.
Clark punches him playfully. "No, you idiot," he mock-growls before getting serious again. "Without you I’d never have been able to go out like that. To become Superman. Knowing that you stood by me ... no matter what ... that’s what made this whole thing possible. Metropolis should thank *you* ... not me."
Lex swallows. Wow. His alien really is in quite a mood tonight. He blinks away a single tear. Damn. He's sentimental this evening. Maybe he shouldn't have drunk that second scotch. Or had it been the third? He doesn't know. He doesn't care. He kisses Clark again, lets himself fall into that kiss. He kisses Clark's mouth, his cheek, and slowly moves down. Down over his throat and his collarbone while his fingers slowly open Clark's shirt ... button by teasing button, until the shirt falls open, and reveals Clark's strong chest.
Clark starts to breathe more deeply, and Lex can feel his heartrate speed up. After all these years, he's still amazed that he can do that to Clark, can still make him breathless. He moves lower, draws circles around Clark's navel with the tip of his tongue, when he suddenly hears Clark whisper, "You're my angel, Lex ... my Guardian Angel ... without you I'd be lost."
Lex freezes for a moment, then he lets his forehead rest on Clark's stomach. ‘What you do to me, Clark,’ he thinks, ‘do you have any idea what you do to me.’
Without saying a single word though, he pushes himself up, and walks over to the table. He can feel Clark's eyes on him, can feel his confusion, but he knows that he has to do this know. Clark's words have moved him, and he notices with a wry smile that his hands are shaking. He takes a box from beside his plate, walks back to Clark, and hands it to him.
"Happy Valentine's Day, love," he murmurs, almost shyly.
Clark takes the box, gazing at him with big eyes. "Thank you, Lex," he whispers, then his face falls. "But I don't have anything for ..."
Lex silences him with a kiss. "Yes, you do," he murmurs, "now open the box. Please."
Clark's hands are shaking, too. He pales a little when he sees a solid watch. A watch exactly like Lex's. Clark gazes at the French coin with the picture of Napoleon, and his hands are shaking even more when he pulls it out. Lex moves a little closer.
"I thought ... you always say that you don't know the time. And maybe ... I thought ..."
Clark's laughs softly. "... that I might manage to come in on time, at least every now and then?"
This time Lex can feel a soft blush on his own cheeks. No. That hadn't been the reason he’d had this watch made for Clark. It had just felt good to think that a part of him would always be with his lover. And - when he is honest with himself - he didn't dare buy a ring.
Yet.
Clark silently turns the watch around, and reads the engraving on the back. It says, "For Clark, my Guardian Angel". To hear his own words reflected back at him moves Lex deeply. But Clark is still silent, and Lex gets nervous. "Do you ... do you like it?" he finally asks. Hating that his voice sounds so insecure.
A big alien, throwing himself at Lex, knocks the breath out of his lungs. A soft mouth presses down on his, and he can hear the words, "I love it, Lex," and he smiles.
"Do you think dinner can wait?" Clark murmurs against his skin, and Lex nods breathlessly. He figures, ‘Yeah, sure. It's cold anyway. One hour won't make any difference.’ He can feel the air move around him, and then the satin sheets of their bed underneath him. Or maybe two hours. His clothes vanish, and he moans when he feels Clark's skin on his. Okay, make that three hours. Or four ... or ... he finally stops thinking when a warm, wet tongue gently circles his nipple, and he buries his hands in Clark's dark hair, enjoying the silken strands between his fingers.
It's almost five hours later when Lex realizes that they're not alone in bed any longer. He's flat on his stomach, his body is deeply sated, aching in wonderful places. Clark is draped over his back, one hand gently caressing his legs, and they're sweaty, tired, and incredibly happy.
The bed dips on one side, and without looking, he knows that Val finally dares to join them. He smiles when he feels her wet nose on his forehead, and hears her deep rumbling purr. "Hey, Val," he says without opening his eyes.
He feels good. Great, even. And he decides that this is the best Valentine's Day ever. Clark presses a soft kiss to his lower back, and he shivers in delight.
"Happy Valentine's Day, love," he hears Clark whisper, and his smile deepens.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Clark," he answers, and slowly he drops off to sleep, the breathing of his lover, and the purring of their cat, lulling him into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The end
Bev
Title: "True Love"
Author: Bev *too*
Beta: Twinsarein
Prompt: No. 29 "For you and I have a guardian angel on high with nothing to hide" - High Society 1956
Summary: Lex's musings on Valentine's Day
Sometimes it seems to be almost a miracle that Lex survived his young adulthood. Thinking back to all those crazy mutants, hired assassins - with fondest greetings from his father, thank you very much - and all the other catastrophes, he thinks it astounding that he really managed to celebrate his 35th birthday.
Sitting on the couch, gazing into the fireplace, with a scotch in his hand, he allows himself the rare joy of indulging in some long-ago memories.
He thinks back to the time when he faced that lunatic in his factory in Smallville who held Clark's class hostage. He walked in without a Kevlar, and was miraculously saved. He remembers the feeling of Clark pulling him up on that narrow metal path with a strength that wasn't human. And he remembers the weird excuses Clark gave him afterwards.
He leans his head back and closes his eyes, sighing contentedly. He’d lost count of how many times Clark had saved him over the years. How many times he had been there without explanation, at the right time at the right place. How many times something unexplainable had happened, and just by accident Clark had been there.
Yeah, just by accident my ass. Lex laughs lightly, and takes another sip of his scotch. Over the years, he had come to the conclusion that he might have something like a guardian angel watching over him. It took him a lot longer to discover that he indeed did have a guardian angel. A guardian angel with green eyes and black hair. From another planet.
He thinks back to his second marriage. The one with Helen. She tried to kill him on their honeymoon. This had come as a bit of a surprise, because usually his wives waited until he had managed to really piss them off ... which was normally about three weeks into the marriage, and two weeks after the honeymoon.
He remembers Lana, his third wife. Lana and her doe-eyed adoration, who had made him feel so strong in the beginning, and had SO gotten on his nerves in the end.
And then Clark.
Another sip from his scotch. He enjoys the burning sensation as it slowly runs down his throat, warming him from the inside out.
Clark. His angel. His guardian angel. The one who always stood by him no matter what. Sure, they had their rough times ... which couple doesn't? But in the end? It's all about love.
He swirls the glass lazily, watching the amber liquid slosh around, and smiles. It has to be the scotch talking. Usually he's not that sappy.
Sappiness is Clark's department. And boy is he good at it. Lex closes his eyes. His hero should be home soon, and even before he finishes the thought, he can hear a soft swoosh, and seconds later a pair of cool lips presses against his temple.
"Hey, love. Sorry, I'm late."
Lex smiles, but keeps his eyes closed. "Rescued some kittens from trees again, Clark?"
A soft chuckle is his answer. "I don't rescue kittens, Lex ... you know that."
"Oh yeah?" Lex asks back, and without opening his eyes he reaches out to touch the slender fur ball which is curled up next to him, and the kitten purrs slightly when he feels Lex's hand on his fur. "I think Val wouldn't quite agree with you. Right, Val?"
The purring gets a little louder when Lex finds the right spot just behind her ear. The one spot which always turns her into a puddle of happy kittiness.
Lex opens his eyes and sees Clark coming in from the bedroom. He’d already got rid of the ridiculous suit he always wears as Metropolis's Savior, and is back to being his very own Clark Kent, soon to be Luthor if Lex has any say in it.
Clark sits down on the floor next to the couch, and puts his head in Lex's lap so the older man can gently run his fingers through the dark, tangled locks. The sound Clark makes as his hair is stroked reminds Lex of Val. The small, black cat with the amazing green eyes was Clark's last year's gift for Valentine's Day. He did indeed save her from a tree. She’d been only a handful of fur, and though Lex isn't exactly a cat person he had fallen for her instantly. It’s also the reason she has the rather unusual name of "Valentine", usually shortened to Val.
They sit like that for almost half an hour. Lex knows that Clark needs this. Needs this little time-out when he comes home from his nightly duties. He knows that some of the things his lover sees at night haunt him for days afterwards.
For a while the only sound in the room is Val's soft purring.
"Are you hungry?" Lex finally asks. He thinks of the table ... the delicious food he had Maria prepare, and that was long cold by this point. But that's alright. He told her to make food that tastes just as good cold as it does warm.
A quiet rumble is the only answer he gets. Then a sigh. "I'm a terrible boyfriend," Clark mutters after another moment of silence, and Lex lifts an eyebrow in surprise. Wow! Where the hell did that come from? Before he can ask him though, Clark continues to speak without opening his eyes. "I know that you planned a romantic dinner for us ... and even on on a day as special as Valentine's Day I still can’t manage to be on time. I suck."
Those last two words send a pleasant shiver down Lex's spine because ... damn right, Clark *can* suck. He proved it last night, and Lex can still feel those talented lips wrapped around his cock. But he knows that isn’t what Clark meant. He tries to move him around, but to no avail. After a few moments he gives up, and pushes Clark's head off of his lap to slide down next to him. He thinks for a second, and straddles his lover.
Slowly, tiredly, Clark opens one eye. Lex touches his face gently, takes it in his hands, and kisses Clark. Deeply. Lovingly.
"No, you don't, love," he whispers when he has to break off to breathe. "You don't suck as a boyfriend. And if so ... then only in the most enjoyable sense of the word."
Clark blushes a little. Lex loves that he still can make Clark blush. Even after all these years, after all the things he sees daily, after all the things they've already done in bed ... deep down inside his lover is still the innocent farmboy. Suddenly Clark comes up, moves closer, and deepens the kiss.
"Thank you," he murmurs against Lex's mouth, and the older man frowns slightly.
"What for?" he asks back.
"For saving me," Clark simply answers, and kisses him again. "You helped me become what I am today."
Clark's costume instantly comes to mind, and he smiles a little. "A colorblind, flying queer?" he teases gently.
Clark punches him playfully. "No, you idiot," he mock-growls before getting serious again. "Without you I’d never have been able to go out like that. To become Superman. Knowing that you stood by me ... no matter what ... that’s what made this whole thing possible. Metropolis should thank *you* ... not me."
Lex swallows. Wow. His alien really is in quite a mood tonight. He blinks away a single tear. Damn. He's sentimental this evening. Maybe he shouldn't have drunk that second scotch. Or had it been the third? He doesn't know. He doesn't care. He kisses Clark again, lets himself fall into that kiss. He kisses Clark's mouth, his cheek, and slowly moves down. Down over his throat and his collarbone while his fingers slowly open Clark's shirt ... button by teasing button, until the shirt falls open, and reveals Clark's strong chest.
Clark starts to breathe more deeply, and Lex can feel his heartrate speed up. After all these years, he's still amazed that he can do that to Clark, can still make him breathless. He moves lower, draws circles around Clark's navel with the tip of his tongue, when he suddenly hears Clark whisper, "You're my angel, Lex ... my Guardian Angel ... without you I'd be lost."
Lex freezes for a moment, then he lets his forehead rest on Clark's stomach. ‘What you do to me, Clark,’ he thinks, ‘do you have any idea what you do to me.’
Without saying a single word though, he pushes himself up, and walks over to the table. He can feel Clark's eyes on him, can feel his confusion, but he knows that he has to do this know. Clark's words have moved him, and he notices with a wry smile that his hands are shaking. He takes a box from beside his plate, walks back to Clark, and hands it to him.
"Happy Valentine's Day, love," he murmurs, almost shyly.
Clark takes the box, gazing at him with big eyes. "Thank you, Lex," he whispers, then his face falls. "But I don't have anything for ..."
Lex silences him with a kiss. "Yes, you do," he murmurs, "now open the box. Please."
Clark's hands are shaking, too. He pales a little when he sees a solid watch. A watch exactly like Lex's. Clark gazes at the French coin with the picture of Napoleon, and his hands are shaking even more when he pulls it out. Lex moves a little closer.
"I thought ... you always say that you don't know the time. And maybe ... I thought ..."
Clark's laughs softly. "... that I might manage to come in on time, at least every now and then?"
This time Lex can feel a soft blush on his own cheeks. No. That hadn't been the reason he’d had this watch made for Clark. It had just felt good to think that a part of him would always be with his lover. And - when he is honest with himself - he didn't dare buy a ring.
Yet.
Clark silently turns the watch around, and reads the engraving on the back. It says, "For Clark, my Guardian Angel". To hear his own words reflected back at him moves Lex deeply. But Clark is still silent, and Lex gets nervous. "Do you ... do you like it?" he finally asks. Hating that his voice sounds so insecure.
A big alien, throwing himself at Lex, knocks the breath out of his lungs. A soft mouth presses down on his, and he can hear the words, "I love it, Lex," and he smiles.
"Do you think dinner can wait?" Clark murmurs against his skin, and Lex nods breathlessly. He figures, ‘Yeah, sure. It's cold anyway. One hour won't make any difference.’ He can feel the air move around him, and then the satin sheets of their bed underneath him. Or maybe two hours. His clothes vanish, and he moans when he feels Clark's skin on his. Okay, make that three hours. Or four ... or ... he finally stops thinking when a warm, wet tongue gently circles his nipple, and he buries his hands in Clark's dark hair, enjoying the silken strands between his fingers.
It's almost five hours later when Lex realizes that they're not alone in bed any longer. He's flat on his stomach, his body is deeply sated, aching in wonderful places. Clark is draped over his back, one hand gently caressing his legs, and they're sweaty, tired, and incredibly happy.
The bed dips on one side, and without looking, he knows that Val finally dares to join them. He smiles when he feels her wet nose on his forehead, and hears her deep rumbling purr. "Hey, Val," he says without opening his eyes.
He feels good. Great, even. And he decides that this is the best Valentine's Day ever. Clark presses a soft kiss to his lower back, and he shivers in delight.
"Happy Valentine's Day, love," he hears Clark whisper, and his smile deepens.
"Happy Valentine's Day, Clark," he answers, and slowly he drops off to sleep, the breathing of his lover, and the purring of their cat, lulling him into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The end