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Destiny Wears A Disguise by danceswithgary
Title: Destiny Wears A Disguise (Part 3 of 3)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 24,710
Cover: (Cover #1)
Summary: Three men. One destiny.
PART TWO
// February 1816 Saffron Walden //
"I have to go away for a few months, Lex."
Lex looked up from the shot he was setting up on the billiards table and frowned at Clark. "Away?"
"My father's made arrangements for me to travel to Greece and Spain, to meet with some of the premium saffron growers and purchase new stock. It needs to be done before planting season and I thought since I'd be over there, I would take a look around, perhaps tour some museums." Clark looked the cue in his hand, rather than Lex's face, afraid of what he might see.
Lex resumed his setup and made his shot. "It's a good opportunity for you." Pointing to his next ball, he moved around the felt-covered table. "I suppose it's good timing for me, too."
"Timing?" Clark tried to keep the hope out of his voice.
His shot successful, Lex looked up at his lover. "My father has been making plans for the upcoming Season." His lips quirked in self-deprecating humor, " My sins have been forgiven and I am once more bidden to find a blushing, titled bride and fill the Luttrell quiver with heirs." Looking down at his clenched fist, his laugh was bitter. "You'll be touring the Continent and I'll be hunting the assemblies. I wonder which of us will be happier?"
"You could tell your father to go to hell."
Clark's gaze was intense, holding Lex's until the pale man looked away with another painful laugh. "My inheritance from my mother is enough to keep me comfortably, if I wished only a small cottage in the countryside." He looked back at Clark, his jaw set and angry. "Why would I give up everything I have now for that?"
"What about love?"
"What of it? Your parents are the only proof I have that it exists in marriage. Marriage is for money and influence." Lex waved his hand around the room. "My mother's money purchased this, bought her a husband that brought her to bed every six months in an attempt for a 'spare' until she finally died of it." Lex threw his cue on the table. "At least my bride can be guaranteed she'll be left to her own pursuits once she produces a single child. I'll not ask for more."
"And you, what will you have in the end?"
"Why, I'll have the money to do as I please, with whomever I please, Clark." Lex's smile cut Clark to the quick. "Enough to finally procure a Fellowship. Enough to travel where I please." His eyes softened along with his voice. "Enough to start over in a new life if I wished." His hand reached out, trembling a little. "Is that really so bad, Clark?"
Clark thought of the life waiting for him in London, the life he would have abandoned in an instant if Lex had asked. He gathered Lex into his arms and looked into his sad blue eyes. "No, it's not that bad, Lex," he murmured, "I understand."
// May 1816 London //
Lex smiled when he saw Damian's relief that they had finally arrived in London for the Season. Lex admitted to himself he had been in a foul temper since Clark had left on his trip to the Continent. The Kents had invited him to dinner in Clark's absence, they missed their son and having his friend visit relieved some of their loneliness. Martha Kent had even managed to convince Lex to accompany her to Waltham Manor to meet her dearest friends, the Langfords.
That visit was the first of many after Lex found out that the Honorable Lana Langford would pass on her father's title to her first-born son. The Honorable Ellen Langford had explained this line of succession to him very carefully after she was informed of Mr. Alexander Luttrell's expected income and inheritance. This of course, put him in direct contention with the Viscount of Fordham, who was often to be found in the company of the lovely, but vacuous young heiress. Her aunt had decided one title was sufficient and that wealth was the better bargain, so she encouraged Lex's intentions.
Lex had little to say to the young lady, but found she could be convinced to prattle on about her dead parents as well as absent friends. During one of these conversations, she revealed that Clark had often been kind enough to escort her to her parents' graves when she was a good deal younger. She had missed him when he'd run away. Curious, since Clark had never spoken of leaving Saffron Walden, Lex asked for more details. She could provide little beyond the fact that he had been gone for almost three years and it was whispered that he had been in London.
Fordham was barely polite when they encountered each other at the Langford's, but Lex understood that for once it was not due to his lack of breeding. Langford had shared stories about his regiment in India and it was clear that he had felt his men were due respect whatever their rank or birth. Little had been said about his missing arm, beyond indicating he had lost it at Waterloo and owed his life to another captain he'd met earlier in India. It was patently obvious that Miss Langford did not consider his disability enough to discourage his suit and her peals of laughter could often be heard as they strolled about the gardens together.
Lex's arrival for the Season had been delayed so that he could escort the Langfords across the perilous roads of Essex to their townhouse in the St. James district, quite close to the newly built Regent's Park. Lex's well-appointed bachelor lodgings were between the two, as his father did not care to keep a house in town and he was thankful to have finally arrived after delivering his charges to their destination. He was looking forward to visiting his club and attending the Royal Society as soon as possible, relieving Damian from the burden of his complaints.
Lex's entrance into his first assembly of the Season caused little stir. The scandal that had sent him to the country was a thing of the past and the ton had new prey. Each time Lex paused to greet an acquaintance, he was asked if he had yet had the honor of meeting the mysterious Viscount of Creighton. On assuring his audience that he had not, he was then made privy to assorted tidbits of hearsay and speculation.
Rich as Croesus, Lord Creighton was the tallest man they had ever seen and his hair was of the glossiest black with trim side whiskers setting off his artfully tousled curls. He always wore blue, to complement his large blue eyes, and his linen and his gloves were cream instead of the traditional white. His origins were unknown, but there was talk of secret missions for the government that had resulted in his title. A favorite of Prinny, Creighton's habit of wearing dark trousers and heeled pumps as evening dress was adopted by the Regent and declared de riguer. He never rode in the park, preferring his phaeton, which he drove to the inch. Being taken up by him was a mark of distinction and envied.
After spending most of his evening learning about this paragon of the peerage, Lex was ready to hate him on sight. This inclination changed the minute he caught sight of the man. Lex rarely met anyone who could stand over him by more than an inch or two, but the tall, slim man who entered the doors of the assembly room amidst the buzz of conversation could easily overlook Lex. His blue eyes cut across the room and widened when he encountered Lex's face. He could only presume his unique appearance had already been described to the newcomer just as Lex had learnt of Creighton's. Lex ventured a polite nod, which was returned before Creighton's attention was engaged by one of the diamonds of the first water.
Resigned to watching the dancing, Lex was surprised by the whisper that tickled his ear. "I understand we have a mutual acquaintance." Turning his head, Lex found himself face-to-face with Lord Creighton. The blue eyes twinkled under the gas lights, bright in a pale, thin face wearing a supercilious air. The high points of his collar nearly obscured his cheekbones, but his height and presence prevented the appellation of dandy. His narrow shoulders added to the overall impression of elegant stature. Lex frowned a little as he examined the latest entree to the marriage mart. "You seem familiar, have we met before?"
One elegantly arched brow rose as the small mouth smirked. "I think we'd both remember, don't you, Mr. Luttrell?" A long elegant hand in a cream glove was extended, the large sapphire adorning the forefinger catching the light and reflecting it back. Lex took the offered hand and gently saluted his new acquaintance. As he was about to ask whom the mutual friend was, Lex heard a familiar voice. "Walden! There you are! I've been looking all over this crush for you!"
Fordham thrust his way through the crowd to stand next to Lex and Creighton. Two sets of blue eyes smiled with genuine affection as Creighton greeted his friend in a high, clear voice. "Fordham, I was about to explain to Mr. Luttrell who our mutual acquaintance could be!"
Nodding politely, Fordham acknowledged Lex. "Luttrell. I'm happy to see the two of you have met." His smile widened when he looked back to Creighton. "Walden is the friend I mentioned back at Waltham Manor." Lex, intrigued, examined the taller man a little more closely.
Fordham laughed at the obvious scrutiny. "Oh, Walden's changed quite a bit since those days." He gestured to his truncated arm. "Then again, so have I." He reached out to clasp Creighton's arm. "A long way from fighting each other in India. I'm afraid that rematch will never happen now."
Lex was surprised to see a flash of pain cross the pale face in front of him before Creighton assured Fordham that the title of regimental champion was quite properly his and that he'd never wanted to challenge it. Fordham's grin was bright and Lex could suddenly see the attraction for Miss Langford. "That's right, you never did fight again after that day. Why ever not? It wasn't your fault you were ill and couldn't give me a proper bout. Although I shouldn't complain, that meant that I was the only one to ever beat you."
Creighton gazed at his friend's face as he considered his answer. His voice was gentle as he explained. "Being beaten by you that day made it plain to me that I never wanted to be responsible for causing that kind of pain to another man, ever again. I resolved I would only fight in self-defense or in defense of others. If that makes me a coward, then..." He shrugged his narrow shoulders.
Squeezing the arm he still held, Fordham nodded. "If that makes you a coward, then I wish the world had more. Remember, I saw you that awful day and I'll never forget the sight of you carrying all those men from the field. We all owe you a great debt and I was pleased to hear that debt was recognized by the Crown."
As Lex watched the two friends, he was struck once again by a feeling that he'd seen Creighton before. He decided he would like to get to know the mysterious man better.
// June 1816 London //
"Not again!"
Simms frowned at his recalcitrant charge in the mirror. "If you insist on being out in the sun, we need to apply this bleach, else you'll be nobbled for certain."
"People used to die using this."
"Then it's a good thing you're not like other people."
Clark sighed and closed his eyes, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the concoction Simms was applying over his face, hands and neck. After he finished that, he would shape Clark's eyebrows again, trim his side whiskers and curl his hair. Clark sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if all this is worth it."
Simms shrugged as he worked with the heated iron to curl Clark's naturally wavy hair. "That would depend on whether you wish Mr. Luttrell to know the truth or not. He is, after all the only reason you've become such a tulip of fashion." He grumbled under his breath, knowing Clark would hear him anyway. "Not eating so you're thin as a rail, coats that are cut so that you look like a slope-shouldered ninnyhammer with collar points that'll put out your eye someday, and hiding from the sun so as you're white as a sheet, looking all the world like you'll die from consumption any day now. Heels, mind you, and built up shoes like you aren't already head and shoulders above most everyone else. You can't even smile anymore, just purse up your lips like you've sucked on a lemon. The only nice thing is your eyes, the blue is pretty."
Clark grimaced at himself in the mirror. "I'm just trying to give him what he wants, someone the ton will accept and respect."
Simms lowered his arms and frowned. "What about giving him what he *needs*, someone *you* respect?"
Clark thought about that for a moment before looking up and smiling. "Who says it can't be both?"
The President of the Royal Society called the meeting to order and the discussions around the room stopped with the exception of the two newest members engaging in a lively debate in the back. Most of the words were inaudible, but a few could be heard such as Euripedes and Linnaeus, Galileo and DeVinci. The members turned in their chairs consumed by curiosity over the wide-ranging subjects they were discussing. The volume increased as each warmed to the subject.
"Huygens identified the first surface feature in 1659 and the Polar Cap in 1672!"
"Cassini determined the rotational period in 1666 and extrapolated the seasonal changes based on those calculations."
"Maraldi found in 1719 that Mars' appearance changes from opposition to opposition, leading him to believe there is a growing season!"
"William Herschel made the first maps of Mars in 1791 and they point to conditions similar to Earth. There has to be life on other planets!"
The last statement still rang in the air as the two gentlemen scientists realized they were the center of attention. Lord Creighton rose and made his bow. "I beg your pardon, Mr. President."
"We're very sorry to have interrupted, gentlemen." Lex stood beside his friend looking sheepish.
Frowning at the two, the President once again called the meeting to order and the first gentleman rose to deliver his findings. Creighton and Lex sat bolt upright in the back and never looked at each other for the remainder of the meeting, afraid they would be barred from future meetings if they exchanged another word.
As the members of the society mingled afterwards, a few indulgent chuckles were heard as two familiar voices were raised in the back once more.
"But they're canals and that implies water and transport."
"We need to take the telescope out tonight and check the coordinates...."
// July 1816 London //
A carriage accident was responsible for sending Creighton and Lex down a side street in order to avoid the gathering crowd. Looking into the windows of the shops they passed, Lex's eye was caught by a silver stickpin adorned with a star sapphire. "Look Creighton, it would look stunning with your new morning coat."
Looking into the window, Creighton nodded in agreement. "Yes, very nice. You're absolutely right, it would." Looking closer, he frowned and then looked up at the sign above the shop and blanched. "Let's move along, we don't want to miss the exhibit."
Lex chuckled. "The exhibit will be open for the next fortnight, Creighton." Reaching for the door handle, Lex insisted, "Come along, let's have a closer look, shall we?"
Sighing, Creighton followed his friend. His unspoken prayers went unanswered when a voice came from the back room in response to the jangling of the bell over the door. "Just a minute, please." Wiping his hands on a towel, a mahogany-skinned gentleman entered the shop from the rear. "How may I help..."
"It's you!" Lex exclaimed. "I've looked all over London for you!"
Shifting nervously on his feet, the proprietor backed away from the counter. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, sir."
"You. You're...Pete, and your lady friend was Chloe." Lex leaned forward, while Creighton stepped back, shaking his head slightly at the man behind the counter. "I met you both in the Cock and the Crown more than two years back. I was looking for a man."
"A...man?"
"His name was Callum Jonson and he was a fighter. He saved my life and I wanted to thank him, but you told me he'd sailed with his regiment."
"Uhh...yes?"
"Well, he didn't! He disappeared!" Lex's hand came down with a thump on the counter. "I had the military records checked and no Callum Jonson was ever in the British army. You lied!"
Seeing that Lex's quarry had no more room to retreat, Creighton stepped forward and tried to urge him to leave. "Luttrell, there's no need to pursue this, is there? It was years ago and I'm sure the man isn't expecting your thanks after all this time."
"But I needed to see him again. It was important," Lex grumbled. "There was something about him..." Sighing, Lex turned to leave the shop. "You're right, Creighton, he's not going to be able to help." Creighton heard Lex curse under his breath and stiffened at the next words he muttered as he walked away. "I've heard that he's back in London, although he's given up fighting. I'll just have to keep looking."
Looking back over his shoulder as he followed Lex from the shop, Creighton smiled at Pete in apology. Pete shook his head and smiled back with a small wave as the bell over the door jangled again.
The four toughs that surrounded Lex mocked when he fumbled at his walking stick, belatedly remembering he'd decided to leave his faithful Malacca at home and carry the new oak instead. Cursing his stupidity, he shifted his grip to the end and prepared to use it as a club, depending on the heavy brass head to inflict some damage. His only advantage lay in the fact that for once, he had not been drinking heavily at the alehouse where he had inquired about Callum Jonson, and his opponents obviously had. However, letting them force him into the dark alley had been another grave error.
With a wordless shout, Lex took the offensive, hoping to have surprise on his side. One of his attackers did go down nursing a blow to his head, but the others quickly closed in and Lex found himself in dire straits. An arm around his throat left him struggling for breath until the street lamp at the end of the alley disappeared from view. Lex was pleased to find that the lack of light was not due to his failing vision, but to a large, dark figure blocking the light into the alley.
Falling to his knees when he was suddenly released, Lex bent over gasping for a minute before he was roughly hauled back to his feet. He briefly glimpsed his attackers on the ground as he was propelled to the nearest wall and held up against it by a strangling grip on his disheveled neck-cloth.
"Why are you here?" the stranger growled and Lex gasped as a golden eye glinted in a darkly shadowed face. He failed to answer the question until he was shaken like a child's toy and the question repeated. "Why are you here?"
"I...I...I've been looking for you."
"Why?" The rumbling voice sent a shiver through Lex's frame and he felt himself harden until he ached.
Lex sighed and closed his eyes. "I needed to see you again." He turned his head to the side in a futile attempt to hide. "I...think about you."
A heavy hand fanned across his body, possibly searching for a weapon before stopping abruptly at the straining evidence of his desire. Pressing hard against it, the hand moved to his buttons, quickly opening the flap and reaching inside. Lex groaned as he was stroked roughly, his hands coming up to grasp at the shoulders that hulked above him. A muffled curse stopped him and Lex was turned to face the wall, his hands coming up automatically to brace himself against the rough brick. Trousers around his knees, his feet were kicked as far apart as possible before a spit-slick finger roughly breeched him. He moaned and thrust back seeking more and receiving it when a rough tongue joined the thick digit, the two working him open in tandem until he was begging.
His obscene prayers were answered when he was guided back onto a broad member that burned as it pushed past his barriers, despite the preparation. Two large careless hands clutched his hips and yanked him back hard enough that he knew he would bear the evidence in finger-sized bruises the next day. As his dark fancy thrust, he curved over Lex's back as if clothing him in human armor and sharp teeth marked the edge of his jaw. He groaned again and one of the hands responded by grasping his neglected member and jerking roughly. A harsh whisper caused Lex to shudder, "God, I can't resist you, you're driving me mad." Another sucking bite and Lex found his mouth covered with the other large hand as he began to shout, "C...," pulsing to completion against the wall. Both hands returned to his hips and he was filled with wet heat after only a few more bruising thrusts.
Head hanging as he panted, Lex felt the abrupt withdrawal and hissed at the loss and emptiness. Still facing the wall, waiting for his companion to speak, Lex reached into his coat for his handkerchief and wiped himself clean before pulling up and re-buttoning his trousers. Hearing nothing, he turned to find himself alone, save for his unconscious attackers. His eyes closed for a moment and then Lex picked up his cane and walked slowly back to his lodgings, aching in body and soul.
// August 1816 London //
"Viscount Creighton, how nice of you to join us this evening!" The Honorable Ellen Langford offered her hand to her much anticipated guest. "My niece will be so pleased to have the opportunity to meet you!"
"I'm sure, dear lady, the pleasure will be all mine." Creighton made an exquisitely perfect bow over her hand before advancing into the ballroom. He could hear a more perfunctory greeting being accorded to Lex, who had followed him into the Langford's townhouse. As Lex came up beside him, Creighton extracted a tiny enameled snuffbox and offered it politely.
Lex waved it away with a grimace. "You know I think that's a disgusting habit."
"Ah yes, much worse than those cigars you insist on smoking."
They were interrupted before they could continue their ongoing debate by the arrival of Fordham. Exchanging greetings, the three of them headed for the refreshments table hoping for something better than the watered down lemonade usually available at the assemblies.
"How goes the wooing, Fordham?" Creighton's question was accompanied by a wave of his hand at the younger hostess. His friend shook his head and frowned.
"I'm afraid I'm out of the running with the two of you here. I may have the title, but I don't have the blunt."
Creighton shook his head in disbelief. "But the chit favors you clearly. And I'm not interested." He sniffed with disdain. "Not at all in my line, you know."
Lex shrugged. "I'm sorry Fordham, but my father..."
Nodding in understanding, the fair-haired man smiled bravely. "I just want to see her happy and if that's with you...well, may the best man win."
The three men fell silent as they watched the lady in question.
"Oh, Lord Creighton! I was looking for..." Miss Langford stammered prettily when she found Viscount Creighton standing alone in the back parlor.
"It's quite all right, Miss Langford. I was waiting for Mr. Luttrell. I received a message he wanted to speak to me and to meet him here."
"That's odd, I was supposed to meet, well that is..."
Creighton smirked. "Lord Fordham, I presume?"
"Why yes! How did you know?"
"Fordham's one of my particular friends and his fondness for you is no secret."
"Oh! Do you really think...?"
"Do I really think he likes you, Miss Langford?" Creighton nodded slowly. "Yes, I do. In fact, I think he fancies himself in love with you." He was shocked when this pronouncement was greeted with a flood of tears and he fumbled for his handkerchief. "Miss Langford, please."
Sobbing, she flung herself into Creighton's arms. "I love him too! But my aunt..."
Creighton heard the door open behind him and sighed. "...is bloody well here, Miss Langford." He waited for the expected gasp and cry of horror.
"Sir, what are you doing here alone with my niece!"
Creighton detached the younger Miss Langford from his chest and turned around composing his features. He made his bow to Miss Ellen Langford and the cluster of people who filled the hall behind her. "I'm happy to announce that Miss Langford has done me the honor of accepting my proposal of marriage."
As everyone crowded into the room to offer their congratulations, Creighton looked over their heads to see Fordham and Lex standing in the hall, each face failing to conceal their pain.
Lex read the letter again, still unable to believe what it said, what Clark had written. Lex had penned several letters addressed to Clark at his parents' farm and there had been no response. Arriving home from the disastrous party at the Langford's, he'd been greeted by Damian with the letter. Seeing the return address, he'd opened it eagerly, tugging on his neck-cloth as he started to read. As the words penetrated, his fingers slowed until he was left with a half-undone neck-cloth and a broken heart.
Mr. Luttrell,
I am writing to you to request that you cease your attempts to correspond with me. I believe you made your intentions quite clear when last we spoke and I find that I cannot, nay, will not accept that you would discard what we shared for the sake of monetary gain. Perhaps someday we will be able to meet again in friendship, but in the present, I find myself unable to bear the pain your company would bring to me. As a consequence, I will be departing Saffron Walden and thus leave the way open for you to return with your bride without fear of meeting me involuntarily. I wish you only the best in the future. Farewell.
C. Kent
"You can't marry her." Lex stood in the entryway of the townhouse, disheveled and without hat, cane or gloves, looking up at Creighton who was descending from the first floor. He was wearing his dressing gown and had obviously been preparing for sleep.
Creighton looked at his butler and Benton bowed and withdrew leaving him alone with Lex. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he gave a short nod and waited for Lex to speak.
"You can't marry her."
"I believe you already said that. Would you care to elaborate?"
Lex took a step forward. "You don't love her!"
"And you do?"
Lex shook his head. "No, that's not it! I don't love her. I don't even want to marry her."
"But you don't want me to marry her either?"
"You don't love her!" Lex's frustration was evident by the increasing volume of his replies.
Creighton raised an eyebrow. "But marriage is for money and influence, not love."
Lex's head dropped and his voice faltered. "No. That's wrong. You're wrong. It can't always be that way." He raised his head and tears glittered in his eyes. "I've been wrong." He buried his face in his hand, his voice broken and strained. "I've lost the one I loved because I couldn't see that."
"Miss Langford and Fordham are on their way to Gretna Green in my carriage."
"What?" Lex's hand dropped to his side and his face turned up to Creighton who stood just a few feet away. The trails of tears shone on his distraught face in the soft light of the street lamps outside. "What did you say?"
"I sent the Honorable Miss Langford and Lord Fordham off to be married at Gretna Green in my carriage." Creighton repeated his words slowly as he closed the distance between them. "I don't believe there's any chance they'll be pursued since her aunt believes her to be safe with me." Long fingers wiped the traces of tears from Lex's cheeks before they were replaced by the lightest of kisses.
"So you're not..."
"Shhhh..." A soft hand stopped Lex's protests as Creighton kissed his eyes closed and then drew Lex after him towards the stairs.
Lex stopped after a few steps and opened his eyes, searching the face of the man who still urged him to follow. "I...there's someone..."
"Shhhh..." Creighton raised Lex's hand to his mouth and kissed the center of his palm before tugging him forward gently. He cradled Lex's jaw carefully and with the other hand traced his brow, smoothing the concern and worry from his forehead. "Shhhh..."
As Creighton lead Lex up the stairs backwards, as if he believed that Lex would bolt if Creighton stopped looking into his eyes, they made their way to the waiting bedchamber. Creighton lit no candles, the light from the street lamps just enough for them to remove Lex's clothing. Dressing gown discarded, Creighton gathered Lex into his arms as if he feared he would shatter and rocked him with Lex's head pressed into his shoulder. Lex felt his tears rise again as he thought of Clark until with a strangled sob, he let them fall. "I m...miss him. I miss him...so much."
Creighton moved them until he was able to lower Lex to the bed, soothing him with soft whispers and hands. Lex's pale skin glowed against the dark coverlet and Creighton traced every shadowed dip and hollow with fingers and lips until Lex arched and reached blindly for him. Evading Lex's hands, he pressed him back down and began again, building his desire to a crescendo, and then restraining it until Lex begged for release. Leaving Lex for a moment, Creighton fetched a small bottle from a chest at the end of the bed and returned.
When the bottle was opened, the scent of lavender filled the air and Creighton anointed his fingers with the oil. One slick finger toyed with the seat of Lex's desire as Creighton's mouth sampled his length and his tongue soothed the heated ache. As the finger entered and began to move and stretch, Creighton took in Lex's length, swallowing until Lex writhed and begged once more and then his head moved in perfect time with the second finger joining the first. A third joined and still so gentle that Lex could scarce detect the movement until they flexed and his world exploded as Creighton swallowed until Lex moaned and pleaded to be filled. Turning Lex on his side, Creighton cradled him from behind and raised Lex's knee to his chest. Slicking himself, Creighton nudged and pressed carefully until he was seated and Lex comfortable with the pressure. He began to move slowly, so slowly that Lex felt as if he was being drawn on a rack of pleasure, waves rolling over him, contented rather than heated. He hardened again without urgency, moving within Creighton's slick hand with no desire for completion, cherished until his tears returned as a soft, cleansing rain and he felt answering tears at his back that pulled him inexorably forward to end silently, gently, filled and healed.
Stretching lazily and enjoying the pleasant pull of well-used muscles, Lex reached out to find he was alone in the wide bed. Hearing a slight noise, he rolled over to face the bedroom window. The draperies were pulled wide and the morning sun limned the unclothed figure who stood there quietly, gazing up to the clearing blue sky. Lex's eyes narrowed as he realized that the body so casually exposed for his scrutiny was not the one he expected to see. As the man turned to lift his face into the sun's rays, Lex knew he'd been taken for a fool. He closed his eyes and prayed for the courage to leave before the other knew his ruse had been discovered.
"I know you're awake, Lex." The voice at the window was quiet and careful, as if reluctant to shatter the night's peace.
Lex's question was ripped from the depths of his crumbling heart, his voice curt with pain. "Why?"
"Because I wanted you in any way that I could have you." Walking towards the bed, his body was taut with anguish. "I know you, Lex. You would never be content with plain country Clark..." Lex watched in amazement as Clark straightened and grew taller, as his wide-open grin appeared, green eyes sparkling with humor above ruddy cheeks. "...nor with the street tough Callum." As he lit a candle and held it before his golden eyes, Callum's face grew grim and dark. With a deep breath, his chest and shoulders widened and he set his legs apart in a solid stance. In the next instant, Creighton pinched out the flame and set the candle down to pull his peacock blue dressing gown over oddly narrow shoulders, shaking his tousled curls into place. A finely shaped brow arched over sardonic blue eyes as he continued, "So, I became the oh-so-fashionable Jerome Walden, Viscount of Creighton." He hid his sorrow behind a polite drawing room smile. "Even he wasn't enough for you."
Lex sat up, the concealing sheet pooling in his lap. "But..."
Waving him to silence, the raven-haired mystery returned to the window and stood with his back to Lex, looking out over London. "You are like quicksilver, Lex." A hand cupped the sunlight and then tipped as if to pour it out. "Impossible to hold in the hand, always moving, seeking a new direction..." The golden hand clenched. "If bound in glass, an invisible cage, you'll stay content for a time until the heat rises..." Fingers flared as the hand danced in the sun. "... and the binding breaks and you've gone, escaped once more and cannot be recaptured." The dark head bowed and once-broad shoulders slumped in despair.
Pale arms slipped around the grieving man's waist and gently pulled him back into Lex's embrace. Clever hands untied the silken robe and slipped it from his golden shoulders before turning him around to face his future. Backing to the bed, Lex pulled his multi-faceted lover after him, urging the uncharacteristically submissive man to lie down before straddling his lean, strong body. Tenderly, Lex bent down and kissed away the tears until thick black lashes fluttered open over hope-filled hazel eyes. He sipped at soft, full lips until with a heartfelt moan, a large, warm hand cradled his head and pressed Lex closer to share a deeper kiss.
Pulling back, Lex searched the troubled eyes that had held so many secrets. "I want you," he murmured, caressing a blushing cheek with the back of his fingers. "Just you. Only you." Leaning forward, he worried a tender earlobe with his teeth before whispering, "All of you." Sitting up, he positioned himself carefully over a lengthening member before tracing a finger over lips that had the smallest hint of a smile. His voice was smooth and light as silk. "I want Creighton, who challenges me to think about impossible things and treats me as if I am made of the finest porcelain and is elegant and refined enough to charm a prince."
Leaving the curving lips behind, Lex's hands smoothed across broad shoulders to grip biceps that could put any blacksmith to shame. His hips ground down and slid along hard heat, earning a hissed curse when he held himself still. He growled, "I want Callum, who gives me no quarter and takes what he wants, hard and rough until I scream. I want the man who saves when there's need, without reward, and carries a core of kindness beneath his rude exterior." Riding out the upward thrust his words provoked, Lex soothed his re-awakened beast with whispers and cool fingers placed on heated cheeks.
Caressing trembling muscles beneath his hands, Lex mapped the golden chest spread out before him and placed his palm atop a wildly beating heart. He smiled and was heartened to see shadowed eyes begin to clear. "And I want Clark," he insisted with a firm voice sweetened with honey, "I want the boy who befriended me and the man who loves me, who taught me how to laugh and how to live each day with joy. I want the man who gifts me with newborn kittens in haylofts and lectures about fossils in the firelight." Sliding his hands into dark curls, he leaned down and took his fill of sweetly tempting lips. "I want the man who accepts me for who I am, with all my quirks and flaws, and loves me nonetheless and with all his heart."
Silently Lex waited, motionless, as hopeful eyes searched his for the truth. Finding what they sought, they blazed with fierce desire and he found himself on his back, breathless at the sudden reversal. Arching hard against him, Clark groaned. "I need you, need to be in you. Now."
Still slick from the night before, Lex pulled his legs back and moaned when Clark entered him in one hard stroke. Chagrined, Clark stopped and winced in apology only to have Lex shift impatiently under him and grit out through his teeth, "Move, damn you!" Needing no further prompting, Clark lifted Lex up easily with one hand and positioned him so that with each deep stroke he made Lex groan and writhe. It was perfect and Lex needed nothing more to paint his chest and belly with sweet warmth that Clark scooped up and sucked off his fingers, triggering his release deep inside Lex. Panting, he held himself until he could withdraw carefully, then eased down next to Lex and gathered him back into his empty arms.
Lying quietly, listening to Clark's steady heartbeat, Lex twined their hands together. Hearing a rumbling chuckle beneath his ear, he twisted and looked up into Clark's amused eyes.
"What?"
"I was just thinking there was one more me you need to meet."
// September 1816 Essex //
"Hold this."
Lex stared down at the metal octagon Clark had just given him and attempted to puzzle out the symbols that appeared on it. He was certain they weren't in any language he'd seen before and when he raised his head to ask Clark about it, he discovered that he was alone on the crumbling edge of the quarry. Whirling about, he scanned the surrounding landscape for his missing lover, finding nothing but his boots and shirt on the ground beside him.
Berating himself for his inattention, Lex searched the surface of the cold, dank water below for any sign of life. Finding nothing, he dropped the disk and began to pull off his boots, only to stop with the first one dangling from his hand. His eyes widened as water streamed off the metal object rising from the dark depths and the boot fell to the ground when Clark's head and hands appeared beneath the ovoid shape, holding it completely clear of the water's surface. He found himself sitting on the ground looking up as both Clark and the object rose several feet above the water and floated through the air to land close by. Setting his burden down carefully, Clark flashed a grin and strode to Lex's side. Dripping wet, he extended his arm and pointed back to the mysterious shape, indicating a small indentation along the side. Shaking, Lex picked up the disk, looked at it, looked at where Clark was pointing and then back at Clark's face. Clark nodded in delight.
"It goes there."
fin
Glossary
Alderman: Half-Crown
Batman: soldier assigned to a commissioned officer as a personal servant
Blooming, Bloody (Blasted, etc.): are forms of profanity not heard in polite company
Chink: Money
Cove: A man
Cracksman: A Burgler, a safecracker. One who cracks or breaks locks. A whole genre of thief.
Dab: bed (cb). "To dab it up with_____" = to engage in carnal acts with ___.
Deaner: A shilling. (Etymologially descended from the Dinarious, or ancient silver penny of Britain...)
Didikko: Gypsies; half breed gypsies (r). (From Didikai, a Rom contraction of Dik akai, or "look here")
Do Down: To beat someone badly, punishing them with your fists. (b)
Dollymop: A prostitute, often an amateur or a part-time street girl; a midinette.
Fancy, the: The brethren of the boxing ring.
Flash (v & adj): Show, Showy (as in "Show-off," or "Flashy"); smart; something special.
Flash house: A public house patronized by criminals.
Jolly: Disturbance or Fracas
Judy: A woman, specifically a prostitute
Kidsman: An organizer of child thieves
Mandrake: a homosexual
Muck Snipe: A person who is "down and out"
Netherskens: Low lodging houses, flophouses
Nickey: Simple in the head
Punishers: Superior nobblers. Men employed to give severe beatings. Fists
Racket: Illicit occupation or tricks
Randy, on the: On the Spree or otherwise looking for companionship
Reader: Pocketbook or wallet
Ream Flash Pull: A significant heist
Ream Swag: Highly valuable stolen articles
Ream: Superior, real, genuine, good.
Roller: A thief who robs drunks or a prostitute who steals from her clientele
Screwing: A sub-genre of Cracking; burglary by means of skeleton keys, waxing keys, or picking locks.
Screwsman: A burglar versed in screwing
Swell: An elegantly, or stylishly dressed gentleman.
Tail: Prostitute
Tightener: A meal. "To do a Tightener," to take a Meal.
Toff: An elegantly, or stylishly dressed gentleman.
Toolers: Pickpockets
Tuppeny (Tuppeny Loaf): Head (cr. from Loaf of Bread)
Dollyshop: A low, unlicenced loan shop or pawn shop.
Greek Phrases
Stamato!: Stop
Arketos!: Enough
Omorfos: Beautiful, handsome
Nioti: youth, boy
Standard Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters herein. The characters of Lex Luthor and Clark Kent as well as any supporting characters are the property of their creators and DC Comics. Gough/Millar Inc and the WB Network TV own Smallville. Any deviations (or deviant behavior) from the originals, however, is mine.
Feedback is both welcome and appreciated.
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 24,710
Cover: (Cover #1)
Summary: Three men. One destiny.
PART TWO
// February 1816 Saffron Walden //
"I have to go away for a few months, Lex."
Lex looked up from the shot he was setting up on the billiards table and frowned at Clark. "Away?"
"My father's made arrangements for me to travel to Greece and Spain, to meet with some of the premium saffron growers and purchase new stock. It needs to be done before planting season and I thought since I'd be over there, I would take a look around, perhaps tour some museums." Clark looked the cue in his hand, rather than Lex's face, afraid of what he might see.
Lex resumed his setup and made his shot. "It's a good opportunity for you." Pointing to his next ball, he moved around the felt-covered table. "I suppose it's good timing for me, too."
"Timing?" Clark tried to keep the hope out of his voice.
His shot successful, Lex looked up at his lover. "My father has been making plans for the upcoming Season." His lips quirked in self-deprecating humor, " My sins have been forgiven and I am once more bidden to find a blushing, titled bride and fill the Luttrell quiver with heirs." Looking down at his clenched fist, his laugh was bitter. "You'll be touring the Continent and I'll be hunting the assemblies. I wonder which of us will be happier?"
"You could tell your father to go to hell."
Clark's gaze was intense, holding Lex's until the pale man looked away with another painful laugh. "My inheritance from my mother is enough to keep me comfortably, if I wished only a small cottage in the countryside." He looked back at Clark, his jaw set and angry. "Why would I give up everything I have now for that?"
"What about love?"
"What of it? Your parents are the only proof I have that it exists in marriage. Marriage is for money and influence." Lex waved his hand around the room. "My mother's money purchased this, bought her a husband that brought her to bed every six months in an attempt for a 'spare' until she finally died of it." Lex threw his cue on the table. "At least my bride can be guaranteed she'll be left to her own pursuits once she produces a single child. I'll not ask for more."
"And you, what will you have in the end?"
"Why, I'll have the money to do as I please, with whomever I please, Clark." Lex's smile cut Clark to the quick. "Enough to finally procure a Fellowship. Enough to travel where I please." His eyes softened along with his voice. "Enough to start over in a new life if I wished." His hand reached out, trembling a little. "Is that really so bad, Clark?"
Clark thought of the life waiting for him in London, the life he would have abandoned in an instant if Lex had asked. He gathered Lex into his arms and looked into his sad blue eyes. "No, it's not that bad, Lex," he murmured, "I understand."
// May 1816 London //
Lex smiled when he saw Damian's relief that they had finally arrived in London for the Season. Lex admitted to himself he had been in a foul temper since Clark had left on his trip to the Continent. The Kents had invited him to dinner in Clark's absence, they missed their son and having his friend visit relieved some of their loneliness. Martha Kent had even managed to convince Lex to accompany her to Waltham Manor to meet her dearest friends, the Langfords.
That visit was the first of many after Lex found out that the Honorable Lana Langford would pass on her father's title to her first-born son. The Honorable Ellen Langford had explained this line of succession to him very carefully after she was informed of Mr. Alexander Luttrell's expected income and inheritance. This of course, put him in direct contention with the Viscount of Fordham, who was often to be found in the company of the lovely, but vacuous young heiress. Her aunt had decided one title was sufficient and that wealth was the better bargain, so she encouraged Lex's intentions.
Lex had little to say to the young lady, but found she could be convinced to prattle on about her dead parents as well as absent friends. During one of these conversations, she revealed that Clark had often been kind enough to escort her to her parents' graves when she was a good deal younger. She had missed him when he'd run away. Curious, since Clark had never spoken of leaving Saffron Walden, Lex asked for more details. She could provide little beyond the fact that he had been gone for almost three years and it was whispered that he had been in London.
Fordham was barely polite when they encountered each other at the Langford's, but Lex understood that for once it was not due to his lack of breeding. Langford had shared stories about his regiment in India and it was clear that he had felt his men were due respect whatever their rank or birth. Little had been said about his missing arm, beyond indicating he had lost it at Waterloo and owed his life to another captain he'd met earlier in India. It was patently obvious that Miss Langford did not consider his disability enough to discourage his suit and her peals of laughter could often be heard as they strolled about the gardens together.
Lex's arrival for the Season had been delayed so that he could escort the Langfords across the perilous roads of Essex to their townhouse in the St. James district, quite close to the newly built Regent's Park. Lex's well-appointed bachelor lodgings were between the two, as his father did not care to keep a house in town and he was thankful to have finally arrived after delivering his charges to their destination. He was looking forward to visiting his club and attending the Royal Society as soon as possible, relieving Damian from the burden of his complaints.
Lex's entrance into his first assembly of the Season caused little stir. The scandal that had sent him to the country was a thing of the past and the ton had new prey. Each time Lex paused to greet an acquaintance, he was asked if he had yet had the honor of meeting the mysterious Viscount of Creighton. On assuring his audience that he had not, he was then made privy to assorted tidbits of hearsay and speculation.
Rich as Croesus, Lord Creighton was the tallest man they had ever seen and his hair was of the glossiest black with trim side whiskers setting off his artfully tousled curls. He always wore blue, to complement his large blue eyes, and his linen and his gloves were cream instead of the traditional white. His origins were unknown, but there was talk of secret missions for the government that had resulted in his title. A favorite of Prinny, Creighton's habit of wearing dark trousers and heeled pumps as evening dress was adopted by the Regent and declared de riguer. He never rode in the park, preferring his phaeton, which he drove to the inch. Being taken up by him was a mark of distinction and envied.
After spending most of his evening learning about this paragon of the peerage, Lex was ready to hate him on sight. This inclination changed the minute he caught sight of the man. Lex rarely met anyone who could stand over him by more than an inch or two, but the tall, slim man who entered the doors of the assembly room amidst the buzz of conversation could easily overlook Lex. His blue eyes cut across the room and widened when he encountered Lex's face. He could only presume his unique appearance had already been described to the newcomer just as Lex had learnt of Creighton's. Lex ventured a polite nod, which was returned before Creighton's attention was engaged by one of the diamonds of the first water.
Resigned to watching the dancing, Lex was surprised by the whisper that tickled his ear. "I understand we have a mutual acquaintance." Turning his head, Lex found himself face-to-face with Lord Creighton. The blue eyes twinkled under the gas lights, bright in a pale, thin face wearing a supercilious air. The high points of his collar nearly obscured his cheekbones, but his height and presence prevented the appellation of dandy. His narrow shoulders added to the overall impression of elegant stature. Lex frowned a little as he examined the latest entree to the marriage mart. "You seem familiar, have we met before?"
One elegantly arched brow rose as the small mouth smirked. "I think we'd both remember, don't you, Mr. Luttrell?" A long elegant hand in a cream glove was extended, the large sapphire adorning the forefinger catching the light and reflecting it back. Lex took the offered hand and gently saluted his new acquaintance. As he was about to ask whom the mutual friend was, Lex heard a familiar voice. "Walden! There you are! I've been looking all over this crush for you!"
Fordham thrust his way through the crowd to stand next to Lex and Creighton. Two sets of blue eyes smiled with genuine affection as Creighton greeted his friend in a high, clear voice. "Fordham, I was about to explain to Mr. Luttrell who our mutual acquaintance could be!"
Nodding politely, Fordham acknowledged Lex. "Luttrell. I'm happy to see the two of you have met." His smile widened when he looked back to Creighton. "Walden is the friend I mentioned back at Waltham Manor." Lex, intrigued, examined the taller man a little more closely.
Fordham laughed at the obvious scrutiny. "Oh, Walden's changed quite a bit since those days." He gestured to his truncated arm. "Then again, so have I." He reached out to clasp Creighton's arm. "A long way from fighting each other in India. I'm afraid that rematch will never happen now."
Lex was surprised to see a flash of pain cross the pale face in front of him before Creighton assured Fordham that the title of regimental champion was quite properly his and that he'd never wanted to challenge it. Fordham's grin was bright and Lex could suddenly see the attraction for Miss Langford. "That's right, you never did fight again after that day. Why ever not? It wasn't your fault you were ill and couldn't give me a proper bout. Although I shouldn't complain, that meant that I was the only one to ever beat you."
Creighton gazed at his friend's face as he considered his answer. His voice was gentle as he explained. "Being beaten by you that day made it plain to me that I never wanted to be responsible for causing that kind of pain to another man, ever again. I resolved I would only fight in self-defense or in defense of others. If that makes me a coward, then..." He shrugged his narrow shoulders.
Squeezing the arm he still held, Fordham nodded. "If that makes you a coward, then I wish the world had more. Remember, I saw you that awful day and I'll never forget the sight of you carrying all those men from the field. We all owe you a great debt and I was pleased to hear that debt was recognized by the Crown."
As Lex watched the two friends, he was struck once again by a feeling that he'd seen Creighton before. He decided he would like to get to know the mysterious man better.
// June 1816 London //
"Not again!"
Simms frowned at his recalcitrant charge in the mirror. "If you insist on being out in the sun, we need to apply this bleach, else you'll be nobbled for certain."
"People used to die using this."
"Then it's a good thing you're not like other people."
Clark sighed and closed his eyes, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the concoction Simms was applying over his face, hands and neck. After he finished that, he would shape Clark's eyebrows again, trim his side whiskers and curl his hair. Clark sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if all this is worth it."
Simms shrugged as he worked with the heated iron to curl Clark's naturally wavy hair. "That would depend on whether you wish Mr. Luttrell to know the truth or not. He is, after all the only reason you've become such a tulip of fashion." He grumbled under his breath, knowing Clark would hear him anyway. "Not eating so you're thin as a rail, coats that are cut so that you look like a slope-shouldered ninnyhammer with collar points that'll put out your eye someday, and hiding from the sun so as you're white as a sheet, looking all the world like you'll die from consumption any day now. Heels, mind you, and built up shoes like you aren't already head and shoulders above most everyone else. You can't even smile anymore, just purse up your lips like you've sucked on a lemon. The only nice thing is your eyes, the blue is pretty."
Clark grimaced at himself in the mirror. "I'm just trying to give him what he wants, someone the ton will accept and respect."
Simms lowered his arms and frowned. "What about giving him what he *needs*, someone *you* respect?"
Clark thought about that for a moment before looking up and smiling. "Who says it can't be both?"
The President of the Royal Society called the meeting to order and the discussions around the room stopped with the exception of the two newest members engaging in a lively debate in the back. Most of the words were inaudible, but a few could be heard such as Euripedes and Linnaeus, Galileo and DeVinci. The members turned in their chairs consumed by curiosity over the wide-ranging subjects they were discussing. The volume increased as each warmed to the subject.
"Huygens identified the first surface feature in 1659 and the Polar Cap in 1672!"
"Cassini determined the rotational period in 1666 and extrapolated the seasonal changes based on those calculations."
"Maraldi found in 1719 that Mars' appearance changes from opposition to opposition, leading him to believe there is a growing season!"
"William Herschel made the first maps of Mars in 1791 and they point to conditions similar to Earth. There has to be life on other planets!"
The last statement still rang in the air as the two gentlemen scientists realized they were the center of attention. Lord Creighton rose and made his bow. "I beg your pardon, Mr. President."
"We're very sorry to have interrupted, gentlemen." Lex stood beside his friend looking sheepish.
Frowning at the two, the President once again called the meeting to order and the first gentleman rose to deliver his findings. Creighton and Lex sat bolt upright in the back and never looked at each other for the remainder of the meeting, afraid they would be barred from future meetings if they exchanged another word.
As the members of the society mingled afterwards, a few indulgent chuckles were heard as two familiar voices were raised in the back once more.
"But they're canals and that implies water and transport."
"We need to take the telescope out tonight and check the coordinates...."
// July 1816 London //
A carriage accident was responsible for sending Creighton and Lex down a side street in order to avoid the gathering crowd. Looking into the windows of the shops they passed, Lex's eye was caught by a silver stickpin adorned with a star sapphire. "Look Creighton, it would look stunning with your new morning coat."
Looking into the window, Creighton nodded in agreement. "Yes, very nice. You're absolutely right, it would." Looking closer, he frowned and then looked up at the sign above the shop and blanched. "Let's move along, we don't want to miss the exhibit."
Lex chuckled. "The exhibit will be open for the next fortnight, Creighton." Reaching for the door handle, Lex insisted, "Come along, let's have a closer look, shall we?"
Sighing, Creighton followed his friend. His unspoken prayers went unanswered when a voice came from the back room in response to the jangling of the bell over the door. "Just a minute, please." Wiping his hands on a towel, a mahogany-skinned gentleman entered the shop from the rear. "How may I help..."
"It's you!" Lex exclaimed. "I've looked all over London for you!"
Shifting nervously on his feet, the proprietor backed away from the counter. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, sir."
"You. You're...Pete, and your lady friend was Chloe." Lex leaned forward, while Creighton stepped back, shaking his head slightly at the man behind the counter. "I met you both in the Cock and the Crown more than two years back. I was looking for a man."
"A...man?"
"His name was Callum Jonson and he was a fighter. He saved my life and I wanted to thank him, but you told me he'd sailed with his regiment."
"Uhh...yes?"
"Well, he didn't! He disappeared!" Lex's hand came down with a thump on the counter. "I had the military records checked and no Callum Jonson was ever in the British army. You lied!"
Seeing that Lex's quarry had no more room to retreat, Creighton stepped forward and tried to urge him to leave. "Luttrell, there's no need to pursue this, is there? It was years ago and I'm sure the man isn't expecting your thanks after all this time."
"But I needed to see him again. It was important," Lex grumbled. "There was something about him..." Sighing, Lex turned to leave the shop. "You're right, Creighton, he's not going to be able to help." Creighton heard Lex curse under his breath and stiffened at the next words he muttered as he walked away. "I've heard that he's back in London, although he's given up fighting. I'll just have to keep looking."
Looking back over his shoulder as he followed Lex from the shop, Creighton smiled at Pete in apology. Pete shook his head and smiled back with a small wave as the bell over the door jangled again.
The four toughs that surrounded Lex mocked when he fumbled at his walking stick, belatedly remembering he'd decided to leave his faithful Malacca at home and carry the new oak instead. Cursing his stupidity, he shifted his grip to the end and prepared to use it as a club, depending on the heavy brass head to inflict some damage. His only advantage lay in the fact that for once, he had not been drinking heavily at the alehouse where he had inquired about Callum Jonson, and his opponents obviously had. However, letting them force him into the dark alley had been another grave error.
With a wordless shout, Lex took the offensive, hoping to have surprise on his side. One of his attackers did go down nursing a blow to his head, but the others quickly closed in and Lex found himself in dire straits. An arm around his throat left him struggling for breath until the street lamp at the end of the alley disappeared from view. Lex was pleased to find that the lack of light was not due to his failing vision, but to a large, dark figure blocking the light into the alley.
Falling to his knees when he was suddenly released, Lex bent over gasping for a minute before he was roughly hauled back to his feet. He briefly glimpsed his attackers on the ground as he was propelled to the nearest wall and held up against it by a strangling grip on his disheveled neck-cloth.
"Why are you here?" the stranger growled and Lex gasped as a golden eye glinted in a darkly shadowed face. He failed to answer the question until he was shaken like a child's toy and the question repeated. "Why are you here?"
"I...I...I've been looking for you."
"Why?" The rumbling voice sent a shiver through Lex's frame and he felt himself harden until he ached.
Lex sighed and closed his eyes. "I needed to see you again." He turned his head to the side in a futile attempt to hide. "I...think about you."
A heavy hand fanned across his body, possibly searching for a weapon before stopping abruptly at the straining evidence of his desire. Pressing hard against it, the hand moved to his buttons, quickly opening the flap and reaching inside. Lex groaned as he was stroked roughly, his hands coming up to grasp at the shoulders that hulked above him. A muffled curse stopped him and Lex was turned to face the wall, his hands coming up automatically to brace himself against the rough brick. Trousers around his knees, his feet were kicked as far apart as possible before a spit-slick finger roughly breeched him. He moaned and thrust back seeking more and receiving it when a rough tongue joined the thick digit, the two working him open in tandem until he was begging.
His obscene prayers were answered when he was guided back onto a broad member that burned as it pushed past his barriers, despite the preparation. Two large careless hands clutched his hips and yanked him back hard enough that he knew he would bear the evidence in finger-sized bruises the next day. As his dark fancy thrust, he curved over Lex's back as if clothing him in human armor and sharp teeth marked the edge of his jaw. He groaned again and one of the hands responded by grasping his neglected member and jerking roughly. A harsh whisper caused Lex to shudder, "God, I can't resist you, you're driving me mad." Another sucking bite and Lex found his mouth covered with the other large hand as he began to shout, "C...," pulsing to completion against the wall. Both hands returned to his hips and he was filled with wet heat after only a few more bruising thrusts.
Head hanging as he panted, Lex felt the abrupt withdrawal and hissed at the loss and emptiness. Still facing the wall, waiting for his companion to speak, Lex reached into his coat for his handkerchief and wiped himself clean before pulling up and re-buttoning his trousers. Hearing nothing, he turned to find himself alone, save for his unconscious attackers. His eyes closed for a moment and then Lex picked up his cane and walked slowly back to his lodgings, aching in body and soul.
// August 1816 London //
"Viscount Creighton, how nice of you to join us this evening!" The Honorable Ellen Langford offered her hand to her much anticipated guest. "My niece will be so pleased to have the opportunity to meet you!"
"I'm sure, dear lady, the pleasure will be all mine." Creighton made an exquisitely perfect bow over her hand before advancing into the ballroom. He could hear a more perfunctory greeting being accorded to Lex, who had followed him into the Langford's townhouse. As Lex came up beside him, Creighton extracted a tiny enameled snuffbox and offered it politely.
Lex waved it away with a grimace. "You know I think that's a disgusting habit."
"Ah yes, much worse than those cigars you insist on smoking."
They were interrupted before they could continue their ongoing debate by the arrival of Fordham. Exchanging greetings, the three of them headed for the refreshments table hoping for something better than the watered down lemonade usually available at the assemblies.
"How goes the wooing, Fordham?" Creighton's question was accompanied by a wave of his hand at the younger hostess. His friend shook his head and frowned.
"I'm afraid I'm out of the running with the two of you here. I may have the title, but I don't have the blunt."
Creighton shook his head in disbelief. "But the chit favors you clearly. And I'm not interested." He sniffed with disdain. "Not at all in my line, you know."
Lex shrugged. "I'm sorry Fordham, but my father..."
Nodding in understanding, the fair-haired man smiled bravely. "I just want to see her happy and if that's with you...well, may the best man win."
The three men fell silent as they watched the lady in question.
"Oh, Lord Creighton! I was looking for..." Miss Langford stammered prettily when she found Viscount Creighton standing alone in the back parlor.
"It's quite all right, Miss Langford. I was waiting for Mr. Luttrell. I received a message he wanted to speak to me and to meet him here."
"That's odd, I was supposed to meet, well that is..."
Creighton smirked. "Lord Fordham, I presume?"
"Why yes! How did you know?"
"Fordham's one of my particular friends and his fondness for you is no secret."
"Oh! Do you really think...?"
"Do I really think he likes you, Miss Langford?" Creighton nodded slowly. "Yes, I do. In fact, I think he fancies himself in love with you." He was shocked when this pronouncement was greeted with a flood of tears and he fumbled for his handkerchief. "Miss Langford, please."
Sobbing, she flung herself into Creighton's arms. "I love him too! But my aunt..."
Creighton heard the door open behind him and sighed. "...is bloody well here, Miss Langford." He waited for the expected gasp and cry of horror.
"Sir, what are you doing here alone with my niece!"
Creighton detached the younger Miss Langford from his chest and turned around composing his features. He made his bow to Miss Ellen Langford and the cluster of people who filled the hall behind her. "I'm happy to announce that Miss Langford has done me the honor of accepting my proposal of marriage."
As everyone crowded into the room to offer their congratulations, Creighton looked over their heads to see Fordham and Lex standing in the hall, each face failing to conceal their pain.
Lex read the letter again, still unable to believe what it said, what Clark had written. Lex had penned several letters addressed to Clark at his parents' farm and there had been no response. Arriving home from the disastrous party at the Langford's, he'd been greeted by Damian with the letter. Seeing the return address, he'd opened it eagerly, tugging on his neck-cloth as he started to read. As the words penetrated, his fingers slowed until he was left with a half-undone neck-cloth and a broken heart.
Mr. Luttrell,
I am writing to you to request that you cease your attempts to correspond with me. I believe you made your intentions quite clear when last we spoke and I find that I cannot, nay, will not accept that you would discard what we shared for the sake of monetary gain. Perhaps someday we will be able to meet again in friendship, but in the present, I find myself unable to bear the pain your company would bring to me. As a consequence, I will be departing Saffron Walden and thus leave the way open for you to return with your bride without fear of meeting me involuntarily. I wish you only the best in the future. Farewell.
C. Kent
"You can't marry her." Lex stood in the entryway of the townhouse, disheveled and without hat, cane or gloves, looking up at Creighton who was descending from the first floor. He was wearing his dressing gown and had obviously been preparing for sleep.
Creighton looked at his butler and Benton bowed and withdrew leaving him alone with Lex. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he gave a short nod and waited for Lex to speak.
"You can't marry her."
"I believe you already said that. Would you care to elaborate?"
Lex took a step forward. "You don't love her!"
"And you do?"
Lex shook his head. "No, that's not it! I don't love her. I don't even want to marry her."
"But you don't want me to marry her either?"
"You don't love her!" Lex's frustration was evident by the increasing volume of his replies.
Creighton raised an eyebrow. "But marriage is for money and influence, not love."
Lex's head dropped and his voice faltered. "No. That's wrong. You're wrong. It can't always be that way." He raised his head and tears glittered in his eyes. "I've been wrong." He buried his face in his hand, his voice broken and strained. "I've lost the one I loved because I couldn't see that."
"Miss Langford and Fordham are on their way to Gretna Green in my carriage."
"What?" Lex's hand dropped to his side and his face turned up to Creighton who stood just a few feet away. The trails of tears shone on his distraught face in the soft light of the street lamps outside. "What did you say?"
"I sent the Honorable Miss Langford and Lord Fordham off to be married at Gretna Green in my carriage." Creighton repeated his words slowly as he closed the distance between them. "I don't believe there's any chance they'll be pursued since her aunt believes her to be safe with me." Long fingers wiped the traces of tears from Lex's cheeks before they were replaced by the lightest of kisses.
"So you're not..."
"Shhhh..." A soft hand stopped Lex's protests as Creighton kissed his eyes closed and then drew Lex after him towards the stairs.
Lex stopped after a few steps and opened his eyes, searching the face of the man who still urged him to follow. "I...there's someone..."
"Shhhh..." Creighton raised Lex's hand to his mouth and kissed the center of his palm before tugging him forward gently. He cradled Lex's jaw carefully and with the other hand traced his brow, smoothing the concern and worry from his forehead. "Shhhh..."
As Creighton lead Lex up the stairs backwards, as if he believed that Lex would bolt if Creighton stopped looking into his eyes, they made their way to the waiting bedchamber. Creighton lit no candles, the light from the street lamps just enough for them to remove Lex's clothing. Dressing gown discarded, Creighton gathered Lex into his arms as if he feared he would shatter and rocked him with Lex's head pressed into his shoulder. Lex felt his tears rise again as he thought of Clark until with a strangled sob, he let them fall. "I m...miss him. I miss him...so much."
Creighton moved them until he was able to lower Lex to the bed, soothing him with soft whispers and hands. Lex's pale skin glowed against the dark coverlet and Creighton traced every shadowed dip and hollow with fingers and lips until Lex arched and reached blindly for him. Evading Lex's hands, he pressed him back down and began again, building his desire to a crescendo, and then restraining it until Lex begged for release. Leaving Lex for a moment, Creighton fetched a small bottle from a chest at the end of the bed and returned.
When the bottle was opened, the scent of lavender filled the air and Creighton anointed his fingers with the oil. One slick finger toyed with the seat of Lex's desire as Creighton's mouth sampled his length and his tongue soothed the heated ache. As the finger entered and began to move and stretch, Creighton took in Lex's length, swallowing until Lex writhed and begged once more and then his head moved in perfect time with the second finger joining the first. A third joined and still so gentle that Lex could scarce detect the movement until they flexed and his world exploded as Creighton swallowed until Lex moaned and pleaded to be filled. Turning Lex on his side, Creighton cradled him from behind and raised Lex's knee to his chest. Slicking himself, Creighton nudged and pressed carefully until he was seated and Lex comfortable with the pressure. He began to move slowly, so slowly that Lex felt as if he was being drawn on a rack of pleasure, waves rolling over him, contented rather than heated. He hardened again without urgency, moving within Creighton's slick hand with no desire for completion, cherished until his tears returned as a soft, cleansing rain and he felt answering tears at his back that pulled him inexorably forward to end silently, gently, filled and healed.
Stretching lazily and enjoying the pleasant pull of well-used muscles, Lex reached out to find he was alone in the wide bed. Hearing a slight noise, he rolled over to face the bedroom window. The draperies were pulled wide and the morning sun limned the unclothed figure who stood there quietly, gazing up to the clearing blue sky. Lex's eyes narrowed as he realized that the body so casually exposed for his scrutiny was not the one he expected to see. As the man turned to lift his face into the sun's rays, Lex knew he'd been taken for a fool. He closed his eyes and prayed for the courage to leave before the other knew his ruse had been discovered.
"I know you're awake, Lex." The voice at the window was quiet and careful, as if reluctant to shatter the night's peace.
Lex's question was ripped from the depths of his crumbling heart, his voice curt with pain. "Why?"
"Because I wanted you in any way that I could have you." Walking towards the bed, his body was taut with anguish. "I know you, Lex. You would never be content with plain country Clark..." Lex watched in amazement as Clark straightened and grew taller, as his wide-open grin appeared, green eyes sparkling with humor above ruddy cheeks. "...nor with the street tough Callum." As he lit a candle and held it before his golden eyes, Callum's face grew grim and dark. With a deep breath, his chest and shoulders widened and he set his legs apart in a solid stance. In the next instant, Creighton pinched out the flame and set the candle down to pull his peacock blue dressing gown over oddly narrow shoulders, shaking his tousled curls into place. A finely shaped brow arched over sardonic blue eyes as he continued, "So, I became the oh-so-fashionable Jerome Walden, Viscount of Creighton." He hid his sorrow behind a polite drawing room smile. "Even he wasn't enough for you."
Lex sat up, the concealing sheet pooling in his lap. "But..."
Waving him to silence, the raven-haired mystery returned to the window and stood with his back to Lex, looking out over London. "You are like quicksilver, Lex." A hand cupped the sunlight and then tipped as if to pour it out. "Impossible to hold in the hand, always moving, seeking a new direction..." The golden hand clenched. "If bound in glass, an invisible cage, you'll stay content for a time until the heat rises..." Fingers flared as the hand danced in the sun. "... and the binding breaks and you've gone, escaped once more and cannot be recaptured." The dark head bowed and once-broad shoulders slumped in despair.
Pale arms slipped around the grieving man's waist and gently pulled him back into Lex's embrace. Clever hands untied the silken robe and slipped it from his golden shoulders before turning him around to face his future. Backing to the bed, Lex pulled his multi-faceted lover after him, urging the uncharacteristically submissive man to lie down before straddling his lean, strong body. Tenderly, Lex bent down and kissed away the tears until thick black lashes fluttered open over hope-filled hazel eyes. He sipped at soft, full lips until with a heartfelt moan, a large, warm hand cradled his head and pressed Lex closer to share a deeper kiss.
Pulling back, Lex searched the troubled eyes that had held so many secrets. "I want you," he murmured, caressing a blushing cheek with the back of his fingers. "Just you. Only you." Leaning forward, he worried a tender earlobe with his teeth before whispering, "All of you." Sitting up, he positioned himself carefully over a lengthening member before tracing a finger over lips that had the smallest hint of a smile. His voice was smooth and light as silk. "I want Creighton, who challenges me to think about impossible things and treats me as if I am made of the finest porcelain and is elegant and refined enough to charm a prince."
Leaving the curving lips behind, Lex's hands smoothed across broad shoulders to grip biceps that could put any blacksmith to shame. His hips ground down and slid along hard heat, earning a hissed curse when he held himself still. He growled, "I want Callum, who gives me no quarter and takes what he wants, hard and rough until I scream. I want the man who saves when there's need, without reward, and carries a core of kindness beneath his rude exterior." Riding out the upward thrust his words provoked, Lex soothed his re-awakened beast with whispers and cool fingers placed on heated cheeks.
Caressing trembling muscles beneath his hands, Lex mapped the golden chest spread out before him and placed his palm atop a wildly beating heart. He smiled and was heartened to see shadowed eyes begin to clear. "And I want Clark," he insisted with a firm voice sweetened with honey, "I want the boy who befriended me and the man who loves me, who taught me how to laugh and how to live each day with joy. I want the man who gifts me with newborn kittens in haylofts and lectures about fossils in the firelight." Sliding his hands into dark curls, he leaned down and took his fill of sweetly tempting lips. "I want the man who accepts me for who I am, with all my quirks and flaws, and loves me nonetheless and with all his heart."
Silently Lex waited, motionless, as hopeful eyes searched his for the truth. Finding what they sought, they blazed with fierce desire and he found himself on his back, breathless at the sudden reversal. Arching hard against him, Clark groaned. "I need you, need to be in you. Now."
Still slick from the night before, Lex pulled his legs back and moaned when Clark entered him in one hard stroke. Chagrined, Clark stopped and winced in apology only to have Lex shift impatiently under him and grit out through his teeth, "Move, damn you!" Needing no further prompting, Clark lifted Lex up easily with one hand and positioned him so that with each deep stroke he made Lex groan and writhe. It was perfect and Lex needed nothing more to paint his chest and belly with sweet warmth that Clark scooped up and sucked off his fingers, triggering his release deep inside Lex. Panting, he held himself until he could withdraw carefully, then eased down next to Lex and gathered him back into his empty arms.
Lying quietly, listening to Clark's steady heartbeat, Lex twined their hands together. Hearing a rumbling chuckle beneath his ear, he twisted and looked up into Clark's amused eyes.
"What?"
"I was just thinking there was one more me you need to meet."
// September 1816 Essex //
"Hold this."
Lex stared down at the metal octagon Clark had just given him and attempted to puzzle out the symbols that appeared on it. He was certain they weren't in any language he'd seen before and when he raised his head to ask Clark about it, he discovered that he was alone on the crumbling edge of the quarry. Whirling about, he scanned the surrounding landscape for his missing lover, finding nothing but his boots and shirt on the ground beside him.
Berating himself for his inattention, Lex searched the surface of the cold, dank water below for any sign of life. Finding nothing, he dropped the disk and began to pull off his boots, only to stop with the first one dangling from his hand. His eyes widened as water streamed off the metal object rising from the dark depths and the boot fell to the ground when Clark's head and hands appeared beneath the ovoid shape, holding it completely clear of the water's surface. He found himself sitting on the ground looking up as both Clark and the object rose several feet above the water and floated through the air to land close by. Setting his burden down carefully, Clark flashed a grin and strode to Lex's side. Dripping wet, he extended his arm and pointed back to the mysterious shape, indicating a small indentation along the side. Shaking, Lex picked up the disk, looked at it, looked at where Clark was pointing and then back at Clark's face. Clark nodded in delight.
"It goes there."
fin
Glossary
Alderman: Half-Crown
Batman: soldier assigned to a commissioned officer as a personal servant
Blooming, Bloody (Blasted, etc.): are forms of profanity not heard in polite company
Chink: Money
Cove: A man
Cracksman: A Burgler, a safecracker. One who cracks or breaks locks. A whole genre of thief.
Dab: bed (cb). "To dab it up with_____" = to engage in carnal acts with ___.
Deaner: A shilling. (Etymologially descended from the Dinarious, or ancient silver penny of Britain...)
Didikko: Gypsies; half breed gypsies (r). (From Didikai, a Rom contraction of Dik akai, or "look here")
Do Down: To beat someone badly, punishing them with your fists. (b)
Dollymop: A prostitute, often an amateur or a part-time street girl; a midinette.
Fancy, the: The brethren of the boxing ring.
Flash (v & adj): Show, Showy (as in "Show-off," or "Flashy"); smart; something special.
Flash house: A public house patronized by criminals.
Jolly: Disturbance or Fracas
Judy: A woman, specifically a prostitute
Kidsman: An organizer of child thieves
Mandrake: a homosexual
Muck Snipe: A person who is "down and out"
Netherskens: Low lodging houses, flophouses
Nickey: Simple in the head
Punishers: Superior nobblers. Men employed to give severe beatings. Fists
Racket: Illicit occupation or tricks
Randy, on the: On the Spree or otherwise looking for companionship
Reader: Pocketbook or wallet
Ream Flash Pull: A significant heist
Ream Swag: Highly valuable stolen articles
Ream: Superior, real, genuine, good.
Roller: A thief who robs drunks or a prostitute who steals from her clientele
Screwing: A sub-genre of Cracking; burglary by means of skeleton keys, waxing keys, or picking locks.
Screwsman: A burglar versed in screwing
Swell: An elegantly, or stylishly dressed gentleman.
Tail: Prostitute
Tightener: A meal. "To do a Tightener," to take a Meal.
Toff: An elegantly, or stylishly dressed gentleman.
Toolers: Pickpockets
Tuppeny (Tuppeny Loaf): Head (cr. from Loaf of Bread)
Dollyshop: A low, unlicenced loan shop or pawn shop.
Greek Phrases
Stamato!: Stop
Arketos!: Enough
Omorfos: Beautiful, handsome
Nioti: youth, boy
Standard Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters herein. The characters of Lex Luthor and Clark Kent as well as any supporting characters are the property of their creators and DC Comics. Gough/Millar Inc and the WB Network TV own Smallville. Any deviations (or deviant behavior) from the originals, however, is mine.
Feedback is both welcome and appreciated.