Constant
Pairing: Clex
Genre: Romance, Futurefic
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 476
Summary: Lex always has something on his mind.
A/N: I wrote this at least a week ago, but seem to have forgotten to repost it. Originally a commentfic for sue_dreams.
Lex had, of course, a super-active mind. This was a basic requirement for supervillainy, and needless to say Lex met it with ease.
He had also always been obsessed with Clark. That went without saying. Ever since he’d opened his eyes to that face, he’d never been able to get it out of his mind.
Back then he’d let it take on the onus of a question, a mystery to be solved: Who is Clark Kent? What is he hiding? Why won’t he trust me?
Does he want me?
Can I make him?
But as the truth will out, even the answers to those questions never put Lex’s need for Clark to rest. It became easier once he admitted that; acceptance quieted the primal screaming to a more bearable hum. Clark continued to run like an undercurrent through his every thought, but it no longer troubled him. In a way, it was comforting - or even amusing to discover all the ways Clark could contrive to cross his mind.
For instance, as he sipped his 9am espresso, he found himself musing how nice a slice of Martha’s apple pie might be. Which, of course, led to thoughts of Clark: of the two of them picking the apples, of Clark’s white t-shirt warmed by the sun and clinging so softly, so innocently to all his irresistible lines. To thoughts of Clark’s mouth, sticky-sweet with tastings stolen in the orchard’s benevolent shadows.
To the very distinct need for a few minutes in his private washroom before his 9:30am stakeholders’ meeting.
Or late in the afternoon, when the workday was beginning to wear on him and Lex’s idle thoughts turned once again to world domination, of course Clark would flit through those fantasies as well. Lex would smile, thinking of all the plans he’d make and the way Clark would thwart them all; it was fair enough. In their more private battles, staged well out of public view, Lex seldom came out the loser.
Not even the most mundane thought was safe. It might occur to him that he needed his charcoal Armani rushed from the cleaner’s; but as he reached for the button to buzz his assistant, he’d flash back to the last time he’d worn that suit. From there he’d be remembering that long, slow limo ride, how he’d pressed a similar button to ask the driver to take the harbor drive so they could see the night skyline. (And how he’d had to work to keep his voice steady to give those instructions, as Clark pushed some buttons of his own.)
There was no escaping Clark; every facet of Lex’s mental processes was infected.
So when he pinned Clark back against the wall and whispered, “I’ve thought about you all day,” it was no exaggeration.
Luckily, Clark understood, and unfurled his body to Lex’s urgent touch.
Genre: Romance, Futurefic
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 476
Summary: Lex always has something on his mind.
A/N: I wrote this at least a week ago, but seem to have forgotten to repost it. Originally a commentfic for sue_dreams.
Lex had, of course, a super-active mind. This was a basic requirement for supervillainy, and needless to say Lex met it with ease.
He had also always been obsessed with Clark. That went without saying. Ever since he’d opened his eyes to that face, he’d never been able to get it out of his mind.
Back then he’d let it take on the onus of a question, a mystery to be solved: Who is Clark Kent? What is he hiding? Why won’t he trust me?
Does he want me?
Can I make him?
But as the truth will out, even the answers to those questions never put Lex’s need for Clark to rest. It became easier once he admitted that; acceptance quieted the primal screaming to a more bearable hum. Clark continued to run like an undercurrent through his every thought, but it no longer troubled him. In a way, it was comforting - or even amusing to discover all the ways Clark could contrive to cross his mind.
For instance, as he sipped his 9am espresso, he found himself musing how nice a slice of Martha’s apple pie might be. Which, of course, led to thoughts of Clark: of the two of them picking the apples, of Clark’s white t-shirt warmed by the sun and clinging so softly, so innocently to all his irresistible lines. To thoughts of Clark’s mouth, sticky-sweet with tastings stolen in the orchard’s benevolent shadows.
To the very distinct need for a few minutes in his private washroom before his 9:30am stakeholders’ meeting.
Or late in the afternoon, when the workday was beginning to wear on him and Lex’s idle thoughts turned once again to world domination, of course Clark would flit through those fantasies as well. Lex would smile, thinking of all the plans he’d make and the way Clark would thwart them all; it was fair enough. In their more private battles, staged well out of public view, Lex seldom came out the loser.
Not even the most mundane thought was safe. It might occur to him that he needed his charcoal Armani rushed from the cleaner’s; but as he reached for the button to buzz his assistant, he’d flash back to the last time he’d worn that suit. From there he’d be remembering that long, slow limo ride, how he’d pressed a similar button to ask the driver to take the harbor drive so they could see the night skyline. (And how he’d had to work to keep his voice steady to give those instructions, as Clark pushed some buttons of his own.)
There was no escaping Clark; every facet of Lex’s mental processes was infected.
So when he pinned Clark back against the wall and whispered, “I’ve thought about you all day,” it was no exaggeration.
Luckily, Clark understood, and unfurled his body to Lex’s urgent touch.