SV fic: WHEN I WAS LOST
3
"Get a cab, meet me in my office. Dress…you know what I want; I don't have to tell you."
Clark stared at the dead phone and sighed. It didn't take him long to get dressed, apply a little cologne he found in the bathroom, a little lip gloss from the kit he always carried with him…he brushed his fingers through his hair right before he headed down to the lobby, he didn't want to look too put together.
He was hustled right up to Lex's private elevator the minute he pushed past Lexcorp's doors-not a sound from anyone, no eye contact. Clark smirked. They knew exactly why he was there and no one was about to say a thing.
He was sent into Lex's inner office by a woman Clark was pretty sure Lex was fucking too. He glowered at her and she stared right back, the edge of her lip curling. Right before he shut the door behind himself, he heard a very unlady-like snort.
Lex gestured Clark to the sofa in the room, most of his attention taken up by the phone pressed to his ear. Clark figured it wasn't a business call, Lex looked too angry for it to be anything but personal. There was a furious light in his eyes even though his voice was clam and controlled. "I don't-I don't anything to do with that place. No, I want nothing to do-that's just blackmail."
Clark's eyebrows rose, wondering who Lex was talking to that made him so angry.
"We'll discuss it later. Yes, I guess I'll have to think about it." He hung up with a frown so deep Clark almost asked if he was okay, before remembering who and what he was to Lex. He settled and waited for Lex to explain why he called him in.
Lex turned to him, the frown smoothed away, a blank mask in its place. "Take your shoes off," he said. Clark blinked. All…right. Odd but to each his own. Clark toed off his shoes, his socks when Lex indicated he should. He was fully dressed, jacket, tie, and bare feet. Lex motioned him over, and he walked slowly over to him, the carpet felt nice to his bare feet.
Lex stopped him, turning him, looking at him. He drew his hands over Clark's shoulders, down his sides, slipped his hands under the jacket and palmed Clark's ass. "You look amazing. I knew you'd look good in this suit. I wanted to see you…he pulled Clark closer with the tie. Feathered his lips against Clark's. "Are you wearing my cologne? God…" he closed his eyes and shivered. Opened them slowly. "It's not about branding someone and cutting your name into their back," he murmured. "This means mine as well…."
Clark felt his face burn. He wanted to pull away but Lex had made himself a challenge now. He smiled. 'Well, it's definitely more subtle," he said.
Lex laughed. "Yes, I guess it is." He sank to his knees, surprising Clark. He leaned forward, pressed his mouth against the expertly cut trousers and breathed out. "Clark…" he reached down to touch Clark's bare feet, drew his fingers over the arch and upward, hand coming to rest at the top of Clark's leg. Lex pressed his palm over Clark's trapped erection, sighed into the fabric. "Clark…"
Clark was instantly blindingly hard, rested his fingertips against his fly and Lex nodded. He was about to unbutton the pants when Lex stopped him. "Just unzip."
He worked his fly open, carefully pulled his dick out. Lex lunged forward and sucked Clark in. Clark hissed--it was awfully sudden, and Lex was very, very bad at this, like he'd never done it before….Clark looked down at Lex and saw the truth of it in the strained movements, his tightly shut eyes. He'd really never done this before. Clark moaned and Lex surged forward--Clark caught him when he gagged, choked and dropped backwards, a thin line of spit dangling from Clark's dick to Lex's lip. It broke when Lex swallowed and Clark could only stupidly watch it spin away. "Sorry. Sorry," he muttered and Lex said something and went at it again.
Clark wrapped his hands around Lex's head to keep him from gagging himself again, tried to keep his grip gentle. Lex's scalp was warm and almost unnaturally smooth, like velvet, under his palms. "Slow down," Clark said. Clark began shifting his hips, slowly thrusting in, withdrawing, careful not to go to deep, and concentrated on the fact that Lex was trying his level best to blow him and that was too sexy. He wasn't going to last, terrible as it was. The mere fact it was terrible was amazing. His dick twitched and Lex startled, hummed and sucked harder. "Okay, Lex--Lex, I'm going to come, you need to-stop, Lex-"
Lex wrapped his fist around Clark, and sucked hard on the tip, determined to-Clark jerked, gasped, "Damn it," and came in Lex's mouth. He felt the shudder run through him, felt Lex struggle to swallow, felt his tongue curl around the tip of his dick, press into the slit. "Damn it!"
Aftershocks raced through him, keeping him frozen. He was almost afraid to look at Lex, whose head was resting against his thigh, hand petting the ruined trousers absently. After a minute or two, he stood and watched Clark tuck himself back and try to look less fucked.
"What about you," Clark said and Lex shook his head.
"No, you should go now.
"Right now-"Clark swallowed. He was being a fool. Lex had gotten what he wanted the way he wanted. Whatever he'd hoped to discover at this moment, he must have found. Clark put his shoes and socks on in the heavy silence, walked past Lex without a word. The only thing that made him feel better was knowing the way he looked, it was obvious what had happened in Lex's office. When he walked past Lex's secretary, he winked.
cLc
Clark waited, certain that he was ready for Lex's next move, but as seemed to be Lex's way, they didn't actually see each other again for a few days.
It felt longer, but a week passed with only the 'company' of the Evil Ice Queen dishing whatever meal she made for Clark onto his plate, her mouth tight and her eyes anywhere but on his. Clark, for his part, talked the woman's ear off, total drivel about the most inconsequential things. Revenge was almost as sweet as her breakfast rolls….
The flip-side of having so much free time, spent in such ridiculous comfort, was the tendency of memories that he preferred not to revisit rising at the most inconvenient times. He leaned into the fridge looking for something cool to drink and he heard his mother's voice. "Clark, honey, don't drink milk straight from the carton…"he looked out his windows and instead of seeing the grey city skyline, he saw spring green hillsides and his dad carving dark chocolate curls into them. He'd sit down to open a book and the first couple of lines would catapult him to a place he'd almost forgotten and he'd feel the bowed mattress of his old bed under him, or the ghost embrace of his mom's arms, smell cotton sheets, the faint scent of cinnamon and L'Air Du Temps….
cLc
Time passed quickly, and before it seemed possible, Clark was marking the days of November off his calendar. He and Lex still circled each other like curious but mistrustful wolves, a stalemate broken only by sex that left him exhausted and on edge. What Lex felt about this unsettling ballet, Clark had no idea.
On the third of as many days in a row in which Lex failed to appear or alert Clark that he wouldn't be back, Clark dressed in one of Lex's thoughtfully provided outfits, wrote a short note explaining that it was too nice a day to wait on Lex possibly appearing, pinned it to the kitchen fridge with a magnet, and left the apartment.
It was a nearly picture perfect late fall afternoon. The sun lent a pale lemon tint to streets that were bright and active despite the chill. There were people everywhere, milling about in that pre-holiday buzz, and Clark was struck with how much he'd missed watching people-how isolated he'd been without even realizing it. He soaked it all in as he walked--stopping to buy a pretzel and a coffee at a corner stand, weaving his way through the crowd at the flower vendors and enjoying the brilliant colors and mingled scents. It all seemed so bright after too many days of oh-so-subtle black and chrome and beige and oh so perfectly civilized….
His eyes caught on a bucket of sunflowers. He couldn't resist the lure of the gold and brown heads, touching their thick, prickly stems, smiling at the way they caught against the pads of his fingers, plunging him into memories again. Lilac and sunflowers, sun and soil. Comfort, warmth…love. Everything he'd lost. And here he was, still lost, still alone in a city of eight million people…he shook his head and continued down the street.
Cars rolled by on his left, one after another. Suddenly he felt-odd. His skin crawled, and as he turned to look behind himself, a long black limo slid by. He shivered, the odd feeling intensified. The limo slowed, and the rear window rolled down. He caught a glimpse of a man with long grey hair and steely eyes. Clark flinched slightly-he felt a weird spark of familiarity. The window rolled up, the limo passed him, and Clark was frozen to the spot, a niggling sense of worry licking up his spine. His phone rang, Eric's ringtone, and the brief, odd moment was gone.
"Darling, I've been waiting for you to call me back--" Eric began, without even a hello, "are you cooped up in that cold box of an apartment?"
"No, Maestro, I'm out walking about. And it's not a cold box; it's a…cold stage."
Eric snickered, and that made Clark smile. "I see," he said. "So, tell me, Pretty, if you're not on the Island of Misfit Boys or out with him, where is our dear little Pinocchio?"
"Oh god, please don't call him that-I hate to think what that makes me. I don't know. I've haven't had any contact with the man in days."
His friend was quite for a beat too long, and when he spoke again, Clark wasn't sure he liked that particular note in his voice…."Clark…Clark, he did tell you that you could break the contract at anytime-"
"Eric. I'm fine. In fact, this is perfect, the easiest money I ever made in my life."
"Pretty boy, if it was just about the money. I'd be happy for you."
"What does that mean?" Clark frowned, glanced around the street before crossing, dodging cars and people.
Eric sighed. "You, lover, are so dense. Are you hungry, I'm hungry. Where are you?"
Clark appreciated that Eric was willing to change the subject. "Half a block from Café Cyrano. Meet me there?"
"Baby, but of course! I'm looking forward to seeing you, it's been too long."
cLc
Sometime past twelve the next evening, Lex called Clark to his suite. Clark just shook off the last wisps of sleep and got ready-always on the clock, after all. Clark showered quickly, and after a moments thought, slid the bracelet on, exchanged his flannel sleep pants and ratty t-shirt for silk pajama bottoms and a skin-tight a-shirt. He padded barefoot across the apartment and tapped on Lex's door.
Lex tumbled him to his huge football field of a bed, smirking at Clark's gasp of surprise. His heart beat wild, hard. The bracelet made his head spin, after not being worn for so long. Clark went with the feeling, let himself go as he was held down by Lex's hands. He licked over the silk, nibbling and sucking until the fabric was soaking and every lick was a hot rasp against Clark's oversensitive flesh. It sent shivers down his spine, made him ache inside, wanting more, wanting Lex.
Clark groaned and came off the bed when Lex opened his mouth wide and breathed hot air against Clark's dick. Lex smirked and pulled at Clark's soaking pants, leaving him bare from the waist down. He rolled Clark to his face in the pillows and pushed fingers into Clark. He fucked them in and out, widened them, slipped them around and in and out until Clark was chasing the movement with his hips, pushing back to force Lex's fingers in deeper. Lex rolled a condom on, slicked himself up and pushed inside in one long slide, didn't wait for Clark to adjust to being so filled-he was thrusting the moment he was inside and Clark rode him, loving the feel, the heat, the heavy fullness. "Lex--"
"…tell me," Lex said and froze against Clark's back. They breathed in tandem, rough shaky breaths breaking over Clark's back, their skin sticking wet and warm together.
"Tell you what," Clark gasped, "how it feels? How you feel inside me?"
"No, tell me what you did with-your clients, tell me about them-what they made you do--"
Sharp pain slivered into shards, sparked and cut him inside. His eyes stung, for just a moment and then he laughed, because what else could he do? He said, "Had a client, used to tie me up--jerk off on me-fifty dollars and that's all he did. An arthritic old grandma could have tied better knots."
"You sound like the knots pissed you off," Lex huffed out a little laugh, and his thrusts stuttered a bit with it and Clark groaned at the change in angle.
"I was-life on a farm, you learn knots." He went quiet, tightened his mouth. His real life had nothing to do with what was happening here. His clients weren't paying for his heart, just his ass.
"Go on, tell me more. Did you like it? You like him messing you up, smearing you in his come? You like being helpless, out of control?"
Clark hissed yes and Lex fucked him harder, slamming into him, ignoring how Clark's groans shifted between pain and pleasure. "No you don't," Lex gasped, bottoming out. "You're lying."
"Stop-" Clark moaned, and Lex seized, muscles going tight and still. Clark felt his sweat, Lex's, mixing and smearing across his back as Lex shuddered through his orgasm. A quick sense memory of other days made Clark's stomach twist, made him go a little soft. After a moment, Lex moaned and pulled free, dropped to the bed behind Clark. The bed shook and Clark figured Lex was getting rid of the condom…Lex crawled back into bed and laid out next to Clark, nothing touching except his hand, sliding up Clark's calf, almost petting him. He felt…small. Dirty. He craved Claude right at that moment. Claude, with his blades and ties and painful toys and his way of slicing away everything unimportant….
"Turn around, Clark."
Clark shuddered again and turned towards Lex, a smirk on his face. "So, was that story enough for you?"
"Come on me. I want you to come on me."
Clark had only been half hard, but Lex's demand went straight to his dick.
"I'm not going to let you tie me up," Lex said, "but I won't move my hands. I want you to…"
Clark nodded, and stroked himself to orgasm, painting Lex's chest with streaks of pearly fluid, milking it onto Lex's skin. Lex grunted when it hit him, closed his eyes as his mouth fell open. "Hot," he gasped, and looked up at Clark. "I mean…never mind."
Clark tilted his head at Lex and smiled. "I run a little hotter than most. No one's ever commented on it before." He leaned closer, smeared his come into Lex's skin. "You liked that story."
Lex didn't say yes, he didn't say no. He rolled off the bed and headed for the shower. Clark watched him go, and then left for his own room. Lex didn't call him back, so he went to sleep.
WINTER
Clark sat folded uncomfortably on the horrible little leather couch, staring at the dead TV screen for a little too long, before finally getting up and wandering out to the main apartment. He made his stealthy way to Lex's kitchen and found a plate of oven warm cookies and was surprised. He'd assumed from Lex's reaction to the information that Clark occasionally baked, that Cook didn't. He touched the thick white plate, rubbed his thumb along the gold line that outlined the edge. He picked up a cookie, remembered snitching a cookie from a similar plate that sat on the countertop in his mother's kitchen nearly all the time, holding whatever sweet his mom had made that day. His mom's plate might not have been gold-trimmed, but the plate felt the same-heavy, warm--the cookies smelled the same…Clark's felt his eyes well up and before he could stop them, the tears ran over. He cursed quietly-it'd been a long, long time since he spilled tears from heartache instead of pain…and of course Cook would pick that moment to walk into the room.
shit! "Oh," Clark said, and scrubbed his face quickly. "I'm sorry; I didn't know any staff besides myself was here tonight, I hope I didn't wake you." He pulled the manners that had been drilled into him like breathing in his babyhood around himself like a cloak. "I-took one of these-um, sorry for that too." His voice cracked a bit, and he managed a small smile. Her face tightened, and Clark supposed it was because he'd had the nerve to refer to himself as staff. "Sorry," he said again.
The Ice Queen just stared at him, her little mouth turned down a little more at the corners, her eyes shifted and locked on the cookie in Clark's hand. "You like chocolate chip, Mr. Luthor said so."
It sounded a bit like he was being accused of liking chocolate chips and he couldn't quite smother a little laugh. "Um, yes…how did he…when did he…?"
"I don’t remember," she said. She took a closer step, peered at him and if possible, looked even sourer. "Something's bothering you?"
Clark shrugged, and startled himself by telling her the truth. "I miss my mom," he said and his voice broke all together.
The cook looked startled herself, and when Clark couldn't stop another tear from falling, she snapped, "Sit down."
Clark recognized an order when he heard one and sat immediately. She busied herself at the stove and not much more than a minute later, she sat a cup of cocoa in front of him. She made a face. "It's instant-but on short notice it’s the best I can do. Now, if you want to, tell me about your mother." She handed him a small package of tissues. She leaned a little closer and said quietly, like she was sharing a huge secret with Clark, "I lost my mother forty years ago, and I still miss her like it was yesterday. My mother was very good to me, and I think, so is yours."
Clark smiled, "Yes, she was," he said, emphasizing "was' and she nodded in understanding."I'm glad she can't see me," he said, "I'm glad my father can't see me."
He lifted his chin, ready to accept the censure he was sure she felt, hot chocolate or not. Cook shocked him by instead laying her hand over his. It was dry and thin, bony--but warm. She said, "What happens, happens. We make the choices we need to at the moment. Good, bad--" She shrugged. "Relax, drink the cocoa, eat the cookies. It will make you both happy." She waved off Clark's puzzled look, and led him into talking, about the farm, loss, loneliness. She said nothing, nodded now and then, and after a while she patted his hand and stood. "Go to sleep. Tomorrow is another day."
Clark watched her go. She didn't seem capable of smiling, the warmth she gave was thin, but Clark had a feeling what there was came from the heart. He smiled. It was nice to be able to talk to someone who didn't want anything from him. He couldn't remember the last time that had happened. He washed and dried the cup and plate, put them away and went to bed, smiling.
cLc
So Clark decided that Lex was either insane or just ungodly socially inept in a one-on-one situation, which kind of explained hiring a whore for a…lover, companion, something…. well, Eric had warned him that Lex was likely to be difficult. Typical of one of Eric's warnings, it had been lukewarm and not exactly precise. He hadn't warned Clark that Lex was going to be absolutely impossible. Rude, short-tempered, sarcastic, and so bitter it was ridiculous. Poor little rich boy syndrome. On the other hand, Lex did have the occasional moments of…sweetness. And funny-Lex could be so funny, and sometimes, even bordering on kind. He was smart and god, he was really good in bed….
Clark leaned against his bedroom window, staring into the black night, the city spread out and sparkling like diamonds, musing on Lex's general assholery when a decisive knock came at his door. "Speak of the Lex," Clark murmured, and opened his door. "Yes?"
"Come back with me to my rooms."
"Hello to you to, and--really, Lex? I mean, you could have just called."
Lex stared at Clark with blank grey eyes for a moment before blinking, and replying, "I felt like taking a walk."
Clark was startled into laughing and Lex icy eyes thawed instantly, warm enough for Clark to thaw himself and give Lex a genuine smile. "All right. Let me dress…"
"Really, Clark? I mean, you have to dress?" he drawled, but his expression was friendly, teasing and Clark didn't question whatever had gotten into Lex. If he wanted to treat Clark like…well, less like a six foot four dildo and more like a human being, Clark wasn't going to argue. Besides, he really liked a smile on Lex's mouth. It was…sexy.
They walked to Lex's bedroom, each sneaking glances at the other. Clark knew his smile was bordering on goofy, but he smiled couldn't stop, not the way Lex was smiling back. When they reached Lex's bedroom, he made short work of stripping and threw himself onto his giant bed. "Clark…" he crooked a finger and leered a comic mockery of a leer. Clark snorted and made short work of getting rid of his own clothes-still, he was a little disappointed that Lex was so quickly nude. He'd wanted to watch him reveal all that beautiful skin in a little less business-like fashion but then again, that's what this was all about. His smile came undone as he watched Lex catalogue every bit of his body, leer gone and lust in place. "Clark. You're…god, you're amazing. Just…miles of skin and muscle and…Jesus. Get over here."
Clark crossed the room, confident that he didn't have to hide how aroused Lex's scrutiny made him, how much he wanted to touch Lex back, and when Lex smiled and stretched, that wonderful smell seemed to fill the air. Clark shuddered and Lex's eyes went dark. He went to his hands and knees at the edge of the mattress and Lex hissed, "Yes, do that, crawl to me," and Clark did that, crawled to him, slow, head low and his back bowed. He looked up at Lex through the fringe of hair that fell forward to mask his eyes. Lex chuckled, it slid into Clark thick and sweet like honey. "Even crawling, you look more the predator than prey." Clark hesitated and Lex continued, saying, "I like that, you know. You being so full of power, so unpredictable…"
Clark smirked at that-and then felt a tiny sizzle of fear race through him. He'd left the bracelet back in his room; he had nothing to hide behind…
Lex rolled upwards and put his hand on Clark's face, traced the line of his lower lip. "I like seeing all that power contained because I control it. All of it." He tilted his head and stared into Clark's eyes. "Claude suspected, but he didn't know. I think I know what makes you you, Clark…."
"What do you-what-"
"Shhh. We'll talk about it later, some other time. Right now, I want you to tell me…" He leaned back against the stack of pillows nestled against the headboard, folded his arms behind his head and smiled. It wasn't the same smile he'd given Clark earlier. This smile had edges and hooks in it. "Tell me a story. Pick a client, pick one moment and tell me the story." He settled into the pillows, murmured, "Make this story better than the last one, Clark…."
In the space of a moment, all the warmth that had settled over Clark evaporated. He'd forgotten his place, but Lex had very kindly reminded him again just what this was all about. Clark sat back, pulled a smile from somewhere and fixed his eyes on Lex's cheekbones. "All right," he said. "A story." It hurt but he kept smiling though it. "Sure, I have story for you." He lowered himself on Lex, slotting their dicks together; he began a slow, rocking motion. He felt Lex begin to swell at the friction. "Once upon a time," he spoke into Lex's skin, his lips a shivering trace of feeling against Lex's pale, smooth chest. "Once upon a time there was a boy who, due to a tragic set of circumstances, ended up in Metropolis, mysterious city, the Big Apricot…"
"Mmm…yes…every good story starts with the hero in tragic circumstances …." Lex said and Clark thrust harder, angry for a moment but Lex just groaned and shuddered, lifted his hips to the added pressure. "and…then comes the journey to the promised land, right?"
Less of a promised land and more a direct drop into hell, Clark thought but murmured agreement with Lex anyway, and licked around his nipples, bit down and let Lex buck against him, gasp. He soothed the hot flesh with kisses, felt Lex's dick jerk against him.
"I-I don't want fairy tales Clark, I want sex-I want you to tell me what your johns did to you-" Lex yelped when Clark went down on him, Clark swallowed the precome that spurt into his mouth, pulled off slowly, trailing his tongue along Lex's shaft, let a string of precome spool out between his lip and the wet red head of Lex's dick before licking it off. Lex gasped and twitched, cursed under his breath. Clark went on, between each long lick upwards, gave Lex a bit more of his story….
"The first time I gave a blowjob, it was learn as you go. Before that, I was in love with the perfect girl…the idea of a perfect girl…She was beautiful, and I all I wanted was to be her boyfriend…that was all I wanted in the whole world. God, I really wanted that…" he said. Clark looked back, focused on Lex again, lips spit slick and shining and he was perfectly aware of how it looked, what effect it had on Lex. He'd practiced this look after all. "Yeah. But…we were talking about my first blow job." He stroked Lex, gripped him hard and slid his hand up until it bumped the crown of Lex's dick, rolled his thumb over the head, spreading more slick. He widened the slit, pressed down until precome seeped up, soaking Clark's thumb and the velvet smooth head. Clark bent and kissed it. Lex trembled.
"Fuck! Go on, Clark, go on…."
Clark kept jerking Lex and said, "I knelt in an alley behind a grocery store because I used to dive dumpsters there, slept behind them sometimes. This guy said he'd give me ten bucks to blow him and it been over a wee-a couple of days since I'd eaten so I said yes. He shoved his dick so far down my throat I threw up. Not much, my stomach was empty but the guy was pissed. He tried to beat me up-"
Lex had gone soft in Clark's hand; tried to push him off, but Clark wouldn't be stopped, not now.
"But he couldn't because. Because I can't be hurt. But I think you know that, don't you? And now I'm going to bed." He stood and Lex said "wait", but Clark brushed him off. "Lex, you want me to tell you stories about being on the street to get you off. It wasn't-there's not a single night I remember about it without wanting to throw up. There was never anything--hot about it. Sorry." Clark went to the door, his hand on the doorknob when Lex tried again to stop him. Clark brushed him off. "Shhh. We'll talk about it later, Lex, some other time," he said, parroting Lex's words. Right before he quietly closed the door on Lex he said, "I hope you liked the story."
They didn't talk, not the next morning, which of course Clark expected, but not for days and days after, and Clark thought in retrospect that he really should have expected it. He asked Cook what she thought about renting out Lex's half of the apartment. She just snorted and made him soup.
Lex ran a long way away, for a long time. Christmas passed with no sign of him, just a gift card in the mail with a ridiculous amount attached to it and nothing else. Clark refused to feel guilt or anger about Lex's flight. It wasn't his fault that Lex asked for one thing and couldn't handle getting another. He should have said he didn't want the truth. Clark would have come up with the same lies he told other clients. Instead of sitting in his room, definitely not feeling lonely and sorry for himself, he'd passed Christmas day having dinner with Cook and got the world's ugliest mittens from her, so ugly he couldn't bring himself to ask if she made them herself and instead kissed her on the cheek. She pushed him back, but Clark was pretty sure she'd smiled. He gave her a scarf from Lacey's that he was certain she'd probably never use. Still, it was the nicest Christmas he'd had since-a very long time. When New Year's Eve came, and still no sign of Lex, he spent the evening with Eric and they talked about everything but Lex.
cLc
They were in one of Eric's favorite restaurants, tucked into a corner, candles blazing away on the table, cozy and intimate. If he wasn't under contract, he'd make Eric take him back to his studio and fuck the man senseless out of sheer gratitude. They chatted pleasantly, about the latest gossip, Eric's new show--all society portraits that Clark couldn't wait to see. Knowing Eric, they'd have something unique and more than likely subtly twisted to say about each subject. Talk held through the appetizer and main course, and then dessert came. Clark set down his silverware and sighed. Eric raised his eyebrows-Clark felt his lip quirk. He was well aware how melodramatic a sound it had been, still-
"I don't think I can do this anymore. I…Maestro, I want to come home." He waved his hand, "God, I don’t know that the hell I'm saying-I don't even have a home to come home to, thanks to him."
"Oh my love, you can't-you won't. I know this is good for you, I promise it will be. You'll see."
"No, it's not, Eric! This is exactly like living with Claude would have been like, only Lex despises me. I feel like…" Clark threw his hand up, and almost yelled, "I feel like a whore. What?" he snapped at the people the next table over, whose heads had swiveled their way at Clark's tone-words-and snapped away at the rage in Clark's eyes.
Eric sighed, his blue eyes darkening for a moment. He reached out and cupped Clark's hand. He said, "I don’t know Clark. Maybe you're right. Would you like me to talk to him? Maybe I could-" he dropped Clark's hand and pulled a thin black book out of his jacket's inner pocket and Clark snorted. "Shut up," Eric said, "Paper's better." He tapped a thin silver pen against the page. "Let me see, I can make him have lunch with me on-"
Clark whipped the pen out of Eric's hand. "God no, please don't. I'm. I'm sorry; you don’t need to deal with my meltdown. I just have to hold on. Two more months, that's all. I'm just…lonely. You know?"
"Pretty boy…I wish I knew what to tell you. But it's going to get better. I really do think so. Now, eat your…pie, for god's sake, all the choices there are and you choose pie. I despair. So, Bruce came to the gallery…he asked about you. Sends his love."
Clark sighed, half relieved, half disappointed at the change of subject…"Tell him I miss him-I really do, you know. Under all that strange baggage, there's a really sweet guy."
"I always knew that, darling. He knows himself better now than he did before you and that makes him stronger. I will tell him you think of him fondly. You know-" he said, and studied the check.
Clark smiled at him, and stopped himself from reaching out and taking Eric's hand. "I know Maestro, and I miss you too."
When Clark came back to the apartment, he knew immediately Lex was there but he wasn't alone. There was a stranger sitting in the living room, a book cracked open and resting on his knee and a scotch-the top shelf scotch Lex kept for himself-in his hand. Clark could hear Lex in his bedroom, moving slowly about. He wondered if Lex had been annoyed, or angry disappointed that Clark hadn't been waiting for him. Clark turned back to the stranger; obviously he was someone Lex was close to, considering how comfortable he looked in Lex's space-more than comfortable, actually. More like he dominated the space. Clark narrowed his eyes at the man. He had a familiar look to him, as if they'd met before. Definitely not a client, Clark remembered the face of every single one of them.
Clark nodded and the gray-haired man set the glass down, fixed Clark with a steely look as intense and heated as a dragon's. "So, you must be Lex's paid companion," he said. There was amused contempt written all over the man's face, and suddenly Clark saw the resemblance, plain as day. Take away the long hair, pare years off…of course. Luthor the elder, had to be.
Clark gave the man a serene smile and said, "That would be me, paid companion. And you must be Lex's father."
The man's eyebrow rose and he looked Clark up and down. "That would be me, Lionel Luthor." He stood and tossed the book to the couch. He walked around Clark, body brushing against his, too deliberate for it to be anything like accidental. The thought rose that the man was scenting him….
"My son has good taste, at least." Lionel circled back to face Clark as he spoke and Clark imagined a wounded gazelle under the interested gaze of a lion-the gazelle being himself. He wasn't sure what his next step was, Lionel Luthor unnerved him nearly as much as Lex did. Clark blinked and found Lionel bare inches away, staring into his eyes. "I can see why it had to be this one, Lex. He really is very attractive."
Clark had been so caught up in studying Lionel studying him that he hadn't noticed Lex come into the room. Lionel's pointed attention turned from him to Lex. "I expect you at dinner-seven sharp. Come alone." He whirled and was gone before Clark drew a breath.
Lex stared at Clark, his lips in a thin bitter line. "What did he say to you?"
"Nothing. He just-nothing."
But Clark couldn't suppress a shudder, and knew that Lex noted it. Lex nodded and came around the couch to pick up the book his dad had been looking at, smoothed his hand over the cover like it was a ruffled bird. After a moment he said, "My dad wants me to take over a project of his. He's been pushing me towards it for a while. It would mean leaving Metropolis and I can't see how it would be worth it when he won't grant me complete control-make it mine in more than just name. It's just another cage…" he looked at Clark, and blinked, seemed to come back from a distance. He smiled and said, "But you don’t want to hear that." He walked towards the kitchen. "I'm sorry you had to eat alone again, but tomorrow, we could have breakfast, if you'd like?"
Clark was startled by Lex's abrupt change of mood. "I-all right, yes. I'd like that. Um. I didn't eat alone though. I had dinner with Eric."
"Clark. Need I remind you that you're exclusively contracted to me-"
"As impossible as it might seem to you, Lex, I don't fuck everything that breathes." Clark turned on his heel and stormed off to his room. The man was an idiot and-and so was he, Clark sighed. Here he was, running off to his room like a three year old. He should be immune to Lex's moods by now. He should have the script locked down, and not have to keep improvising to keep up with Lex's mercurial shifts in mood. He kept letting it get personal and he needed to remind himself above all that there was nothing personal about this, nothing at all-
A soft knock came at the door and Clark felt another sigh creeping up on him. Proof that Lex was an idiot and impossible and completely annoying-He opened his door and leaned against the jamb and stared at Lex. Lex held his hands up, palms to Clark, with a small and hopeful smile on his lips. "Yes?"
"I'm an idiot," Lex said, and Clark laughed.
"I hope you weren't expecting me to argue with you."
"Um…no, no…I'm sorry. Of course you have friends. Friend. And Eric is…he's a good person in his own way. And he's welcome, you know. You don't. You don't have to sit here all alone waiting on me."
"Lex-"
"Oh, no, I'm not confusing this. I know what this is all about for y-for me. Us, I mean. This is." Lex stopped, closed his eyes and took a breath. "I'm going to dinner with my father." He opened his eyes again. "And you don't have to stay here by yourself."
"I'm good, Lex. I'm fine here; just…have a good dinner."
Lex laughed-a short sharp bitter thing that made Clark want to-to hug him, or pat his back, or fuck him senseless. Clark had a wild impulse to offer just that but before he could open his mouth, Lex was gone.
SPRING
Winter faded into spring and Clark was afraid he was falling, deeper and deeper, as they continued their long, slow, dance. Clark had long since stopped lying to himself. It wasn't about a job anymore, not for him. And in the thick dark of night, when he was alone in his room-in the apartment-he admitted it never had been. Not from that first moment he'd glimpsed Lex at that ridiculous fundraiser, the taste of Bruce still in the back of his throat and wanting Lex so much. One touch, one note, one breath, and he'd been Lex's at that moment. It had been the best moment of his life, and the worst and it felt like it was killing him.
Clark wiped his eyes and laughed at himself. God, wasn't he the very worst kind of cliché? And no one to blame but himself. Lex had let him know, time after time, that Clark was no more than what he'd been when he landed on Lex's doorstep-the whore he'd hired. But…Clark wished that Lex wouldn't confuse him by talking to him, eating with him, treating him like a-a friend, before turning around and treating him like--Clark sighed. Like what he was.
"Hey," Lex called from the hall. "Feel like grabbing lunch with me? I've got a late meeting tonight and there's no way I'm going to hang out in the office all day."
What choice did he really have? Clark stood, scrubbed his face dry and shouted, "Free lunch--sounds good to me."
They ended up walking around the city while Lex tried to explain exactly what it was he did to make the kind of money to be able to afford-to--to buy a human being like other people bought toys- Clark's mind helpfully supplied the words that Lex would never say out loud.
Eventually, the talk turned to food, spurred on by a low roar issuing from Clark's middle. Lex grinned and steered them to a little diner tucked in between a pharmacy and a discount store. "This is the place Clark-you'll like it here." Clark hesitated and Lex shoved him towards the doors. "Don't worry, Clark, the food really is good, I can vouch for their Caesar salad at least-plus it's nice and private. No one I know would eat here," Lex said, grinned as he held the thick glass door open and ushered Clark inside.
Clark knew the food was good-plain, but tasty and lots of if. He knew all about the place. He'd eaten there a few times. It had been a treat he gave himself when he could afford a lot less than he could now. If a date brought him to this part of the city and if he was able afterwards, he'd head to this little diner to eat. Meatloaf and mashed potatoes. His favorite--the dish that sat in front of him now.
"Clark…how can you eat that stuff?" Lex asked, and picked at his own salad. "It's a big, lumpy, chunk of gray stuff, swimming in wobbly brown liquid and surrounded by gelled wallpaper paste…ugh." He crammed a forkful of red and green leaves into his mouth and shuddered. Clark wasn't sure if it was the lettuce or the meatloaf that brought that on. He grinned at Lex and decided to play along.
"I have to admit, I'm startled that you even know what wallpaper paste looks like," Clark said and forked up a huge mouthful of mashed potatoes. "I mean, the idea of you doing the physical labor of applying wallpaper."
"I'm not exactly a stranger to labor-ugh. You're making me sound like a cliché."
Clark smirked. "Here," he said. "Take a bite of this and then tell me what lousy taste I have." He held out a bit of meatloaf on the end of his fork, and watched Lex take a delicate bite; his lips peeled back as if he was about to eat a bit of human flesh. He chewed tentatively, carefully.
Clark spent the rest of the meal defending his plate, and ate half of Lex's salad to try and make up for the loss of his meatloaf. "It's not fair. I had a good, solid meal here and I end up eating someone's lawn."
Lex snorted. "Poor baby, you'll get over it, I'm sure. Come on," he said, "I'll buy you a hot dog on the way home, okay?"
Lex made good on his promise-- They caught a cab in front of the MetMuseum, and Clark sat in the back, enjoying a pretty good hotdog while Lex watched him with a little smile. He smiled back at Lex, and Lex surprised him by blushing. It had been a good afternoon. He'd felt like he was wanted-more than that, like Lex liked him for being him. Clark tried his best to be careful of himself, but he couldn't help but sink into the feeling. Clark refused to examine it too closely. Knew he was playing a fool's game. He was having a harder time reminding himself that all this was temporary. When Lex leaned over him and smiled into his face, when his eyes were dark and warm and more blue than grey, Clark knew he was losing the game.
One evening, after a day that must have been exceptionally rough, bad enough to keep Lex more or less silent during dinner, Lex walked into the kitchen where Clark was sitting with Cook. Clark and Cook exchanged glances when Lex hesitantly asked-not ordered-- if Clark would like to spend some time with him, catching Clark out-Lex had oddly never spoke about what this was in front of any staff. Cook gave Lex a shrewd look, and pursed her lips, glanced back at Clark. "I'll clean away the cups." She looked towards Lex and said, "If that's all, I'm leaving for the night," and Lex shrugged nonchalantly. Clark caught the faint blush staining Lex's cheeks-by the soft snort behind him, Clark figured Cook's sharp eyes had caught it too.
"If you wish, good night, then." Lex turned, walked out of the room and Clark hopped off the barstool and followed him.
cLc
In his room on the giant bed, he fucked Clark, slow and tortuous, until Clark was biting his arm to keep from screaming. It was as if Lex wove a web to capture him: scent, heat, touch, all woven together to drag him in, drag him down. Lex folded over Clark, mouthed at his shoulder, licking lazy loops on the curve of bone, making his skin pebble up with goose bumps and then bit down, grinding his teeth into Clark's shoulder. Clark gasped at the bright shock of pain, bucked up and threw his arms wide, the open bracelet clicked against the headboard. Lex moaned in his ear, huffed and Clark lifted his legs higher, changing the angle so that Lex was hitting his sweet spot every stroke in.
"Clark, Clark…" Lex hid his face in Clark's neck. "Tell me that you like it."
"Lex…yeah…fuck…"
Lex threw his head back, his throat taut and working with the strain, and Clark felt him coming, a deep twitch inside, a ghost of warmth and then Lex fell forward, tumbling onto him in a boneless heap. A gasp that sounded like a sob breathed out against Clark's chest.
Clark quivered, his dick jerking under the friction Lex made by shivering through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He lay there, struggling to keep from moaning, begging Lex to bring him off. Clark pushed against Lex's shoulders, trying to get him to move and Lex growled, pushed back against Clark. He pressed one arm under Clark's chin. "Don't move." Reached his free hand between them, grabbed Clark's dick, tight. He started up in a rhythm become familiar to both of them-hard and fast and guaranteed to bring Clark to the edge almost instantly. Clark hated that Lex knew that much about him, knew also that Clark was powerless against it. It didn't take much more than seconds before Lex had him shouting, coming….
Clark waited until Lex rolled off and then stood; ready to leave for his room. He hesitated for an instant. Something had changed between the two of them, Clark was certain of it, certain that Lex would ask him not to leave. When Lex bit his lip and turned away, Clark dressed quickly, ignoring the tacky mess spread over his skin. He didn't glance back as he walked across the room, and he closed the door quietly behind him.
It didn't hurt. It was the job, a job, that's all. Clark could count on the fifty thousand dollars, a killer car and an upscale apartment. Just…not what he really wanted. Not Lex. Clark laughed out loud, slamming his head back against his suite door. He laughed even harder, "You're whining? About what, you idiot? You know a dozen guys who'd kill to be where you are right now. All you have to do is bend over, and…and…" Clark slumped. Slid down until he was sitting on the floor and staring at the big blank TV screen. "Take it."
cLc
"What do you want out of life, Clark?" Lex asked, his fingers tracing the line of hair that started in a diamond in the middle of Clark's chest, thinning as it worked its way down to his navel and then thickening around his dick. Lex seemed to be mesmerized by it, petting it and carding his fingers through it…it made Clark sleepy and relaxed, he murmured in pleasure as Lex scratched lightly around his dick. After a moment he remembered Lex asked him a question.
"Life…don't want anything," he said, and sunk back into his relaxed state. He couldn't miss the frown Lex made in response to his answer. "What?" Clark asked.
"You should want something, work towards something. It's-it's what makes us all humans after all, separates us from the beasts."
Clark laughed. "Are you calling me a beast?" he asked, and rolled on his side, half on Lex, half on the bed. He rumbled. "If I'm a beast, I'm a content beast. I don't want much-anything. I have everything I need and more than that."
Lex pushed Clark off. "Beast. You're a cat, a great big, tiger of a cat. I like it. I like it when you spread out on my balcony, soaking up the sun, I like it when you let me pet you…when you roll over and let me fuck you." He grinned at Clark. "Beast," he murmured, "I think it's story time."
Clark stiffened--it was like being hit with a bucket of ice water. Lex hadn't asked for something like that in a while. It usually signaled a return to business. Suddenly Lex broke the script, startling Clark. He laid his hand across Clark's mouth and said, "No, this is my story to tell," he whispered hoarsely. "When I was twelve, two things happened that broke me. My mother died, and my father sent me away. There were…other things that happened, things I won't talk about but those two things made me a different person then the one I was born to be."
Clark wanted to apologize, offer some kind of comfort but Lex laughed, soft, bitter, and kept speaking. "I spent the next four years at boarding school. The people you know-your clients, I went to school with them. I know those people; probably know what some of them want from you. I grew to be fast, fleet of foot-had to, to avoid a daily beating. Worse."
Clark shuddered, pretty sure what Lex wasn't saying and he wished he knew which of those over-privileged, over-rich assholes he'd fucked had hurt Lex like that…"I'm so sorry, Lex, so sorry…"
"I know, Clark." Lex said. "Eventually, Dad relented. Sent for me, and I went from having no friends to having one friend, one good friend-my dad's driver. He taught me how to defend myself. Things were different after that, I was different after that. Ray…" Lex laughed softly to himself. "Well, he wanted to help me."
Clark was quiet for long minutes, mulling over what Lex told him, and what he hadn't said. He gazed at Lex, his long, lean form stretched across the bed, arms folded over his stomach, and a look of peace on his face. Clark wondered how hard it had been for Lex to learn to assume that look…he reached over and took Lex's hand, laced their fingers together. He laid their joined hands on Lex's chest. He said, "My dad taught me to drive the tractor at nine. I liked it-I felt like I was growing up, and I wanted to be just like him, my dad. We planted pumpkins that year-it was my personal project." Clark laughed. "I made fifty dollars and I thought I was rich. I bought Christmas presents that year-the first time I didn't make them myself."
He grinned at Lex and Lex smiled back, squeezed their linked hands. Said, "That's my favorite story yet. Tell me another?"
Clark told Lex stories about his life before, talked until he hardly knew what he was saying. When he woke in the morning, Lex was leaning on an elbow, staring at him.
"Damn, I'm sorry, Lex-I didn't mean to, to fall asleep-"
Lex stopped him. "I'm glad you stayed. You always left. So I thought it was, you know, a limit…." He blushed slightly and Clark was stunned.
"I always left because I thought you wanted me to."
"You mean-I could have had this before?" Lex gasped.
Clark turned to his side, facing Lex. He rolled his eyes. "Oh my--yes, you idiot! You just had to ask-or tell me."
Lex huffed. "I'm sure I'm not paying you a butt load of money to insult me."
Clark smiled, satisfied. "You are, a little bit." He rolled to his back, pulling Lex with him. Lex settled on his chest like he'd been doing it every morning for forever. He laughed, loud and happy.
"Yes, I suppose I am."
part four