A Picture's Worth (Part 3/?)
Title: A Picture's Worth (Part 3/?)
Author: hoperoy
Fandom: Smallville
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Pairing: Clark/Lex,
Word count: 2,466
Warnings: Mentions of underage sex.
Summary: Pictures don't lie, even when Clark and Lex do. It's possible that a little truth is exactly what they need-even if it turns their lives upside down.
Author's Note: This takes place after Hydro. Thanks to danceswithgary for the beta.
---------------------
By the time the next morning rolled around, there was still no hit on the account where Lex had deposited the money. It didn't make any sense, considering the demands that had been made. What kind of extortionist demanded money...and then didn't take it? It was almost as if someone *knew* the account was flagged.
Unfortunately, as Lex found out when one of his private investigators brought him that morning's addition of *The Daily Planet*, that thought might not have been too far off base.
Whatever the cause, there was a picture of Lex and Clark splashed across the front cover. It was the tamest of all the pictures and, although it had been cropped, so that it was only from their waists up, it still showed all too clearly the nature of the activity they were engaged in.
Lex paused, closing his eyes as he let his hand rest on the newspaper. He was aware that his world had just been irrevocably changed but, for the life of him, he couldn't force himself to dwell on that right then. His mind was already consumed with plotting some way to spin the problem sitting on the desk in front of him--to somehow make it less sordid than it appeared.
Both his and Clark's lives depended on that.
Accompanying the paper was another manila envelope, identical to the first. Slowly, Lex turned it over and slipped his finger under the flap, opening it carefully. There was only one item inside--a small slip of paper, which spelled out three typed words.
*Enjoy the fallout.*
"Damn it," Lex swore under his breath, letting the paper drop to the desk. It lay there, standing out among spreadsheets and business notes, impossible to miss.
Whatever was happening, it was a carefully planned maneuver. Someone was setting him up, and Lex was beginning to think that it was far more personal than just an extortionist clamoring for his money. Whoever was doing this wanted to cut at him--to make him really *feel* the pain. Unfortunately, that hardly narrowed things down. He'd made enough enemies for any list to include just about all of Smallville, and a large section of Metropolis to boot.
Glancing down at the newspaper again, Lex felt a surge of rage. When he found out who was behind this, he was going to make that person pay, because *no one* did this to him. There was no one on Earth that he would allow to ruin his life like this.
Or, by extension, Clark's life.
Clark.
A chill settled over Lex as he realized the full implications of what was happening. He might have alerted Clark the previous night--warned him that his life could be ruined--but he himself was just now realizing how true that was. Clark was going to wake up to a world that was infinitely different from the one he'd fallen asleep in.
"Shit," Lex swore under his breath, already reaching for a phone. If Clark didn't already know about what had happened, it was about damn time that he found out. At least then he might be prepared for the reporters camping on his front lawn.
Or, as Lex realized when the doors to his office slammed open and into the walls... maybe not.
------------------------------
Clark was a sight to behold as he halted in the doorway. Every exquisite line of his body spoke of immeasurable emotion, most of it oscillating between stress and anger. And his eyes--his eyes were practically on fire with intensity. Lex felt his breath catch at the strange, unearthly beauty of it.
Their lives were falling apart, and Clark was still turning him on. Fantastic.
"I was about to call you," Lex informed him, forcing himself to appear more calm than he really felt, as he held up the phone. "But I take it you've already seen the news."
"*Seen* the news?" Clark asked quietly, looking incredulous. "Seen it? I've got reporters trampling all over my front lawn, Lex. I damn well *am* the morning news."
"And you'll probably be the evening news, too," he replied wryly. Becoming more serious, Lex leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as he tried to collect himself. Emotion would get him nowhere when dealing with such an enormous problem. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what happened, Clark."
That was, loathe as Lex was to admit it, the truth. Had Clark been thinking clearly, he probably would have known that without asking. Clark knew better than anyone how much Lex Luthor hated to have someone get the best of him.
"You don't *know*?" Clark demanded, moving quickly into the room. "How do you not know? Lex, my life is falling apart, and the only answer that you can give me is that *you don't know*?"
It was a struggle for Lex to contain his rising annoyance. He wasn't responsible for supplying a terrorist's motives. "Would you prefer a lie?" he snapped, slamming the phone back down into its cradle. "Because I can make up one of those, just like you did for years."
"Shut up, Lex," Clark spat at him. "Any secrets I had were mine to keep. I don't owe you any explanations. If anything, you owe *me* an apology for how hard you kept pressing me."
Always his fault. When dealing with Clark, he was *always* the one at fault. "Get over yourself, Clark. Remember the time when I was trying to regain those weeks I'd lost? *You* had absolutely no concept of privacy *then*. Not only did you keep interfering, but you went to my *father* and involved *him* in your attempts."
Something dangerously close to remorse flickered in Clark's eyes. "I was scared you'd hurt yourself."
"And I was worried that you'd end up in over your head." Lex replied, rolling his eyes. For someone so selfless, Clark could be remarkably self-absorbed and short-sighted at times. "Phalen? Nixon? Those names ringing any bells?"
"I got out of those situations just fine on my own," Clark replied sourly, looking away from Lex.
"Clark, both of those people ended up dead... and you're damn lucky that you weren't connected to either of them."
"*You* were the one who shot Nixon, Lex."
Saying, 'I did it for you,' sounded so terribly cliché and, even with the total insanity that had become his life, Lex *refused* to sound like a character in a romance novel. It didn't matter if his motive actually had been something along that line.
"And *why* did I shoot Nixon, Clark?" It was better to let Clark to work the words out himself.
Clark didn't reply, nor did he look at Lex, his gaze remaining on the floor. *Good*, Lex thought with a smirk. At least Clark was uncomfortable with the conclusions he was drawing. He *should* be.
"What are we going to do?" Clark finally asked. It wasn't lost on Lex that he was deliberately dismissing their other conversation, but the circumstances at hand dictated that he'd have to let that go... for the time being.
"Find a way to spin this."
Clark looked skeptical. "*Is* there a way to spin this?"
Truthfully, no, but Lex was good at producing magic out of the proverbial hat. He had to be. What was happening was just... a little harder to control than usual. Honestly, he wasn't sure he could. Dealing with the fallout--trying to contain it--might be their only option.
He hoped that wasn't true.
"We'll find one."
"No one's going to believe the photo's fake," Clark pointed out, sighing as he sank down into one of the chairs in front of Lex's desk. "We spent too much time together for people to believe that."
Point to Clark, Lex mentally ceded. He was right. "If this was the only picture, it would be easier, but whoever's doing this has more… *explicit* material that they can release to the media at any time. Attempts to make this look platonic are going to fail." Fail was a massive understatement. Platonic friends didn't have sex together, and whoever was blackmailing them had explicit material of them doing just that.
"Damn it, what else can we possibly do? They'll crucify both of us if we can't prove that!"
Lex knew his skepticism must have been blatantly written all over his face, but he didn't have the energy or the will to hide it. Clark could see what he wanted. "Clark, it's pretty hard to prove something that's not the truth."
"Then what are you planning to do?"
Honestly, Lex had no idea. No. Idea. At. All. The fact that there were still more pictures out there was the real problem. The one that had been released, he probably could have dealt with. The remaining ones that showed him and Clark actually having sex-he had no chance of handling.
Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed something strong to drink and, if he hadn't also needed every bit of good sense and sharpness that he possessed, he probably would have already been drunk and senseless. It still sounded very appealing.
"First, I need to find out who's behind this--discover their motive. In the meantime--" In the meantime, he'd have to begin damage control. It would be pointless to lie and say the photo had been manipulated because, if any team of experts went over it, it would be apparent that it wasn't. "--in the meantime, I think I'm going to have to convince the masses that you were at least over the age of consent, because I really don't look good in orange."
Shocked was an interesting look on Clark. "You *have* to be kidding me."
Lex rolled his eyes. "Clark, I know that you have your code of morals, but at this point--"
"No," he interrupted Lex, shaking his head. "Not that. I'm--you're just going to admit to all this?"
"If you've got a way to plausibly deny it, be my guest."
"Lex, don't you understand that, whether they believe I was sixteen or not, you're still going to basically be perceived as a child molester?"
Thank you, Clark, for your blunt honesty, Lex thought bitterly. As if he weren't going to hear enough of that from the press. "Cheer up, Clark--at least you're going to look like the victim."
"You think that's going to matter?" he asked, looking incredulous. "I'm still--my mother is in the *Senate*, Lex. This--her career--I can't--"
"Surprisingly enough, her career will probably survive. The American people can be remarkably odd that way. As much as they bash their politicians for corruption, they still keep electing them."
Really, the one who was going to have the hardest time was Clark. He might have only been a kid in high school when the photos were taken, but he lived in a small, mid-western town where homosexuality was... more than frowned upon. People he'd thought were his friends were going to snub him; customers were going to cancel their produce orders--just walking down the street was going to earn him disgusted, half-curious stares.
And there wasn't a thing Lex could do to stop it.
The strangest thing of all was that he honestly wanted to.
--------------------------
"Is it true?"
Closing his eyes, Clark took a deep breath. He'd known this confrontation was coming, but he'd still been dreading it. Chloe was his best friend, always there for him, but he didn't think she'd understand this. Hell, even *he* didn't completely understand it.
"Yes."
"Damn, Clark." Sighing, she sank down on his couch, rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand. Stress was evident in every line of her body, and it was practically dripping from her words. "Why?"
"I can't even begin to try to explain it." He couldn't. That was the truth. He had absolutely no explanation--not for her, not for the world... and not for himself. All he knew was, at the time, Lex had been what he'd needed.
"All that time that you spent pining after Lana was just for show?" she asked, leaning back against the cushions of the couch as she watched him. He felt remarkably like an animal on display, under observation by a scientist.
"I--no, I don't think so." Lana had been his attempt at normalcy--his way to feel like every other high school guy. She'd been a fantasy and, after he'd gotten her, he'd found out that his fantasy hadn't even really existed. He might have actually loved her--he wasn't sure. All he knew was that, love or not, *she* hadn't been what he'd needed. She'd just been safe, comforting. She'd been the normal that he knew he wasn't meant to have.
"I--Clark, I can't believe you slept with Lex Luthor," she said finally. "And I really, really can't understand why you let him take *pictures*!"
Clark felt a prick of anger. She was acting as if he was stupid and, while he knew he hadn't made some of the best decisions, everyone made mistakes, as cliche as that sounded. His mistakes just happened to be bigger than most.
"I have to get chewed out by everyone else about this--could you just--just--I don't even know. I was a sophomore in high school, and I wasn't thinking. Just--"
"Pretend everything's all right?" she snapped, sitting up and fixing him with a glare. "No, Clark, I can't, because while everyone else is getting their torches and pitchforks, I'm going to be here trying to help you clean up this mess. And while I may be here, that doesn't mean I have to be happy about the situation you've put yourself in! *Lex Luthor*? When you were a sophomore in high school? What the hell were *either* of you thinking?"
"You're staying?"
Clark didn't know what he'd expected--didn't know why he was so surprised. He certainly hadn't expected acceptance and maybe not even Chloe sticking around at all. He didn't expect many other people to do so, at least. The truth was that he hadn't thought... then or now.
The way her eyes widened-her shock at the question--would have been amusing at any other time. "Yeah," she answered. She sounded so surprised that he'd doubted, like she'd thought her position was obvious.
Maybe, Clark thought, it should have been.
"Thank you."
He didn't think many other people would stand by him, and he probably should have realized earlier how lucky he was to have a friend like Chloe. More importantly, he should probably recognize that right then, even if it was a little late.
"Thank you," he repeated again, more firmly this time.
Chloe slowly nodded. "You're welcome."
Author: hoperoy
Fandom: Smallville
Rating: NC-17 (eventually)
Pairing: Clark/Lex,
Word count: 2,466
Warnings: Mentions of underage sex.
Summary: Pictures don't lie, even when Clark and Lex do. It's possible that a little truth is exactly what they need-even if it turns their lives upside down.
Author's Note: This takes place after Hydro. Thanks to danceswithgary for the beta.
---------------------
By the time the next morning rolled around, there was still no hit on the account where Lex had deposited the money. It didn't make any sense, considering the demands that had been made. What kind of extortionist demanded money...and then didn't take it? It was almost as if someone *knew* the account was flagged.
Unfortunately, as Lex found out when one of his private investigators brought him that morning's addition of *The Daily Planet*, that thought might not have been too far off base.
Whatever the cause, there was a picture of Lex and Clark splashed across the front cover. It was the tamest of all the pictures and, although it had been cropped, so that it was only from their waists up, it still showed all too clearly the nature of the activity they were engaged in.
Lex paused, closing his eyes as he let his hand rest on the newspaper. He was aware that his world had just been irrevocably changed but, for the life of him, he couldn't force himself to dwell on that right then. His mind was already consumed with plotting some way to spin the problem sitting on the desk in front of him--to somehow make it less sordid than it appeared.
Both his and Clark's lives depended on that.
Accompanying the paper was another manila envelope, identical to the first. Slowly, Lex turned it over and slipped his finger under the flap, opening it carefully. There was only one item inside--a small slip of paper, which spelled out three typed words.
*Enjoy the fallout.*
"Damn it," Lex swore under his breath, letting the paper drop to the desk. It lay there, standing out among spreadsheets and business notes, impossible to miss.
Whatever was happening, it was a carefully planned maneuver. Someone was setting him up, and Lex was beginning to think that it was far more personal than just an extortionist clamoring for his money. Whoever was doing this wanted to cut at him--to make him really *feel* the pain. Unfortunately, that hardly narrowed things down. He'd made enough enemies for any list to include just about all of Smallville, and a large section of Metropolis to boot.
Glancing down at the newspaper again, Lex felt a surge of rage. When he found out who was behind this, he was going to make that person pay, because *no one* did this to him. There was no one on Earth that he would allow to ruin his life like this.
Or, by extension, Clark's life.
Clark.
A chill settled over Lex as he realized the full implications of what was happening. He might have alerted Clark the previous night--warned him that his life could be ruined--but he himself was just now realizing how true that was. Clark was going to wake up to a world that was infinitely different from the one he'd fallen asleep in.
"Shit," Lex swore under his breath, already reaching for a phone. If Clark didn't already know about what had happened, it was about damn time that he found out. At least then he might be prepared for the reporters camping on his front lawn.
Or, as Lex realized when the doors to his office slammed open and into the walls... maybe not.
------------------------------
Clark was a sight to behold as he halted in the doorway. Every exquisite line of his body spoke of immeasurable emotion, most of it oscillating between stress and anger. And his eyes--his eyes were practically on fire with intensity. Lex felt his breath catch at the strange, unearthly beauty of it.
Their lives were falling apart, and Clark was still turning him on. Fantastic.
"I was about to call you," Lex informed him, forcing himself to appear more calm than he really felt, as he held up the phone. "But I take it you've already seen the news."
"*Seen* the news?" Clark asked quietly, looking incredulous. "Seen it? I've got reporters trampling all over my front lawn, Lex. I damn well *am* the morning news."
"And you'll probably be the evening news, too," he replied wryly. Becoming more serious, Lex leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as he tried to collect himself. Emotion would get him nowhere when dealing with such an enormous problem. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what happened, Clark."
That was, loathe as Lex was to admit it, the truth. Had Clark been thinking clearly, he probably would have known that without asking. Clark knew better than anyone how much Lex Luthor hated to have someone get the best of him.
"You don't *know*?" Clark demanded, moving quickly into the room. "How do you not know? Lex, my life is falling apart, and the only answer that you can give me is that *you don't know*?"
It was a struggle for Lex to contain his rising annoyance. He wasn't responsible for supplying a terrorist's motives. "Would you prefer a lie?" he snapped, slamming the phone back down into its cradle. "Because I can make up one of those, just like you did for years."
"Shut up, Lex," Clark spat at him. "Any secrets I had were mine to keep. I don't owe you any explanations. If anything, you owe *me* an apology for how hard you kept pressing me."
Always his fault. When dealing with Clark, he was *always* the one at fault. "Get over yourself, Clark. Remember the time when I was trying to regain those weeks I'd lost? *You* had absolutely no concept of privacy *then*. Not only did you keep interfering, but you went to my *father* and involved *him* in your attempts."
Something dangerously close to remorse flickered in Clark's eyes. "I was scared you'd hurt yourself."
"And I was worried that you'd end up in over your head." Lex replied, rolling his eyes. For someone so selfless, Clark could be remarkably self-absorbed and short-sighted at times. "Phalen? Nixon? Those names ringing any bells?"
"I got out of those situations just fine on my own," Clark replied sourly, looking away from Lex.
"Clark, both of those people ended up dead... and you're damn lucky that you weren't connected to either of them."
"*You* were the one who shot Nixon, Lex."
Saying, 'I did it for you,' sounded so terribly cliché and, even with the total insanity that had become his life, Lex *refused* to sound like a character in a romance novel. It didn't matter if his motive actually had been something along that line.
"And *why* did I shoot Nixon, Clark?" It was better to let Clark to work the words out himself.
Clark didn't reply, nor did he look at Lex, his gaze remaining on the floor. *Good*, Lex thought with a smirk. At least Clark was uncomfortable with the conclusions he was drawing. He *should* be.
"What are we going to do?" Clark finally asked. It wasn't lost on Lex that he was deliberately dismissing their other conversation, but the circumstances at hand dictated that he'd have to let that go... for the time being.
"Find a way to spin this."
Clark looked skeptical. "*Is* there a way to spin this?"
Truthfully, no, but Lex was good at producing magic out of the proverbial hat. He had to be. What was happening was just... a little harder to control than usual. Honestly, he wasn't sure he could. Dealing with the fallout--trying to contain it--might be their only option.
He hoped that wasn't true.
"We'll find one."
"No one's going to believe the photo's fake," Clark pointed out, sighing as he sank down into one of the chairs in front of Lex's desk. "We spent too much time together for people to believe that."
Point to Clark, Lex mentally ceded. He was right. "If this was the only picture, it would be easier, but whoever's doing this has more… *explicit* material that they can release to the media at any time. Attempts to make this look platonic are going to fail." Fail was a massive understatement. Platonic friends didn't have sex together, and whoever was blackmailing them had explicit material of them doing just that.
"Damn it, what else can we possibly do? They'll crucify both of us if we can't prove that!"
Lex knew his skepticism must have been blatantly written all over his face, but he didn't have the energy or the will to hide it. Clark could see what he wanted. "Clark, it's pretty hard to prove something that's not the truth."
"Then what are you planning to do?"
Honestly, Lex had no idea. No. Idea. At. All. The fact that there were still more pictures out there was the real problem. The one that had been released, he probably could have dealt with. The remaining ones that showed him and Clark actually having sex-he had no chance of handling.
Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed something strong to drink and, if he hadn't also needed every bit of good sense and sharpness that he possessed, he probably would have already been drunk and senseless. It still sounded very appealing.
"First, I need to find out who's behind this--discover their motive. In the meantime--" In the meantime, he'd have to begin damage control. It would be pointless to lie and say the photo had been manipulated because, if any team of experts went over it, it would be apparent that it wasn't. "--in the meantime, I think I'm going to have to convince the masses that you were at least over the age of consent, because I really don't look good in orange."
Shocked was an interesting look on Clark. "You *have* to be kidding me."
Lex rolled his eyes. "Clark, I know that you have your code of morals, but at this point--"
"No," he interrupted Lex, shaking his head. "Not that. I'm--you're just going to admit to all this?"
"If you've got a way to plausibly deny it, be my guest."
"Lex, don't you understand that, whether they believe I was sixteen or not, you're still going to basically be perceived as a child molester?"
Thank you, Clark, for your blunt honesty, Lex thought bitterly. As if he weren't going to hear enough of that from the press. "Cheer up, Clark--at least you're going to look like the victim."
"You think that's going to matter?" he asked, looking incredulous. "I'm still--my mother is in the *Senate*, Lex. This--her career--I can't--"
"Surprisingly enough, her career will probably survive. The American people can be remarkably odd that way. As much as they bash their politicians for corruption, they still keep electing them."
Really, the one who was going to have the hardest time was Clark. He might have only been a kid in high school when the photos were taken, but he lived in a small, mid-western town where homosexuality was... more than frowned upon. People he'd thought were his friends were going to snub him; customers were going to cancel their produce orders--just walking down the street was going to earn him disgusted, half-curious stares.
And there wasn't a thing Lex could do to stop it.
The strangest thing of all was that he honestly wanted to.
--------------------------
"Is it true?"
Closing his eyes, Clark took a deep breath. He'd known this confrontation was coming, but he'd still been dreading it. Chloe was his best friend, always there for him, but he didn't think she'd understand this. Hell, even *he* didn't completely understand it.
"Yes."
"Damn, Clark." Sighing, she sank down on his couch, rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand. Stress was evident in every line of her body, and it was practically dripping from her words. "Why?"
"I can't even begin to try to explain it." He couldn't. That was the truth. He had absolutely no explanation--not for her, not for the world... and not for himself. All he knew was, at the time, Lex had been what he'd needed.
"All that time that you spent pining after Lana was just for show?" she asked, leaning back against the cushions of the couch as she watched him. He felt remarkably like an animal on display, under observation by a scientist.
"I--no, I don't think so." Lana had been his attempt at normalcy--his way to feel like every other high school guy. She'd been a fantasy and, after he'd gotten her, he'd found out that his fantasy hadn't even really existed. He might have actually loved her--he wasn't sure. All he knew was that, love or not, *she* hadn't been what he'd needed. She'd just been safe, comforting. She'd been the normal that he knew he wasn't meant to have.
"I--Clark, I can't believe you slept with Lex Luthor," she said finally. "And I really, really can't understand why you let him take *pictures*!"
Clark felt a prick of anger. She was acting as if he was stupid and, while he knew he hadn't made some of the best decisions, everyone made mistakes, as cliche as that sounded. His mistakes just happened to be bigger than most.
"I have to get chewed out by everyone else about this--could you just--just--I don't even know. I was a sophomore in high school, and I wasn't thinking. Just--"
"Pretend everything's all right?" she snapped, sitting up and fixing him with a glare. "No, Clark, I can't, because while everyone else is getting their torches and pitchforks, I'm going to be here trying to help you clean up this mess. And while I may be here, that doesn't mean I have to be happy about the situation you've put yourself in! *Lex Luthor*? When you were a sophomore in high school? What the hell were *either* of you thinking?"
"You're staying?"
Clark didn't know what he'd expected--didn't know why he was so surprised. He certainly hadn't expected acceptance and maybe not even Chloe sticking around at all. He didn't expect many other people to do so, at least. The truth was that he hadn't thought... then or now.
The way her eyes widened-her shock at the question--would have been amusing at any other time. "Yeah," she answered. She sounded so surprised that he'd doubted, like she'd thought her position was obvious.
Maybe, Clark thought, it should have been.
"Thank you."
He didn't think many other people would stand by him, and he probably should have realized earlier how lucky he was to have a friend like Chloe. More importantly, he should probably recognize that right then, even if it was a little late.
"Thank you," he repeated again, more firmly this time.
Chloe slowly nodded. "You're welcome."