Lessons in Deception (2/2)
My desk phone beeps and I pick it up. "Yes?" I ask David.
"There's a Mr. Kent here to see you," my assistant tells me blandly.
"Clark?" I ask, even though I've never heard David refer to my young lover that way before. There's always hope that it's not his father.
"Jonathan," he tells me.
I groan internally. I can't imagine what else the man thinks he has to say to me. "Show him in," I tell David and then hang up. A moment later my door opens and Clark's father walks in purposefully. I watch him as he sits down across from me.
"I assume that you've taken care of it, or you would have said something to Martha last night when you talked to her," he says.
I nod. "It's taken care of," I tell him. "But I know you didn't come all the way out here just to ask me that. You could have phoned. What do you want?"
"Clark was here last night," he says flatly. He doesn't sound particularly angry, in fact if I needed to place the emotion in his voice, I'd say he almost sounds sad and resigned.
"Yes," I tell him eventually with a nod.
He looks straight at me for a long minute, and then sighs and shakes his head. "At least you didn't try to deny it," he tells me. "I heard him come in around five. I couldn't imagine anywhere else he would have been so early in the morning."
"We just talked," I assure him. Usually I wouldn't care what he thought, but he's Clark's father and the last thing I want is for him to make it more difficult for Clark and I to see each other. He cuts off anything else I would have said with a shake of his head.
"I really don't want to know," he tells me candidly. I nod my acceptance of that, and wait for him to continue with whatever he's come here to say to me. He looks down at his hands for a moment and then back up at me. "I want you to stay away from Clark," he tells me.
That's pretty much what I had expected. "Forbidding this won't do you any good," I tell him. There's a taunting tone in my voice that I know he can't have missed.
"I'm not forbidding it," he tells me quickly.
"Could have fooled me," I laugh coolly. "If you're not forbidding this, then what are you doing?"
He sighs. Whatever he's doing, it isn't easy for him. "I'm asking you, as someone who says he loves my son, to do what's best for him, for all of us, and stay away from him."
"How is that what's best for Clark and me?"
"You know that Clark's special, different, don't you, Lex?" he asks me. His eyes are clouded with pain and I can well imagine how difficult it is for him to come here and ask me this. He probably has never spoken to anyone outside of his immediate family about Clark's differences.
"There are a lot of kids in Smallville that are different, Mr. Kent," I tell him. "How is Clark any different from that?"
"Clark is different from them. He's a good kid, and he would never hurt anyone, but it would be too easy for someone to manipulate him into doing something he didn't want to if he thought he was protecting us... or you," he says the last like he needs to force it out of his mouth.
The thought that Clark could possibly do something illegal in order to protect me stops me cold. I had never really thought about it before, I know that he just might do it if he thought he had to. Oh, he would probably be able justify it to himself, but I don't know how I would ever be able to live with the idea that he did it because of me. I'll just have to make it very clear to him that nothing is worth him compromising his morals for me.
"I haven't told anyone, if that's what you think," I tell Clark's father fiercely.
He nods slightly. "Maybe you haven't, Lex, but you're too public. There are too many people around you, watching what you do, poking into your life. Eventually someone else would figure out about Clark and then it would be all over."
I frown and close my eyes. He's making too much sense, and I wish I could find something wrong with his logic. I could hurt Clark just by being with him, no matter how much I care about him. I shudder when my father's face pops into my mind. What would happen if my father somehow found out that Clark was different, that he could do things that normal people couldn't? He would want to know how it all worked. He would want to know why Clark was different. He would try to take Clark away and discover all his secrets. I can't let that happen, no matter what.
But I don't need to be away from Clark to help protect his secrets. In fact, it's probably better if I stay as close as possible so that I know what's going on, so that I can protect him better. I wouldn't be the only public person who had a private life. Others did just well keeping their love interests and affairs in the private domain. I'm just a businessman, it's not like I'm an actor or a pubic official or something like that, and people aren't that interested in my life.
"The last thing I want is for Clark to be hurt," I say sincerely, "but I'm not so bad at hiding things when I need to." Clark and I are right together, there has to be a way to make it work and still protect this secret of theirs. It's simply not possible that the world would be cruel enough to give me everything I ever wanted just to take it away again almost immediately afterwards.
"But Clark..." he starts. I cut him off before he can finish whatever he was going to say.
"Clark's been hiding this, whatever it is, his entire life, hasn't he? He hasn't done such a bad job."
"He's never needed to stand up to scrutiny before, though. Being with you is going to make people want to know things about him, and that will lead to nothing but trouble. You need to stop this relationship," Mr. Kent says. His voice is sad and tired. "I want you to end this with him. You can tell him whatever you want, but I want you to take responsibility for it. I don't want him thinking that he can get you back somehow. And then that's it Lex, it's over. I don't want you around my boy anymore."
I laugh cruelly at him. "You really don't like the fact that your kid might be gay, do you?" I demand. As much as I know that his fears about Clark are valid, I also think there's more here. I don't think he'd want me to be with Clark, even if I wasn't me. "You're afraid that people will talk about your ability to raise a normal child."
Anger flashes across his face, and he stares at me for a long moment before responding. "That's not what this is about and you know it," he tells me coolly.
I snort. "Just keep telling yourself that," I tell him snidely.
"If you really love him, you will do this. You know it's the only way to keep him safe from your world," Clark's father tells me.
"Even if I did try, Clark won't leave me easily," I warn his father.
He thinks about this for a moment before nodding. "Do whatever you need to do, Lex."
I can only stare at him for a long minute. Did Jonathan Kent just give me permission to rip out his son's heart? This man who says he loves his son, this man who has become the model of fatherhood for me, has just told me that I can devastate his kid and that's okay with him. And why? To protect some secret they don't want the rest of the world to know? So that Clark can stay free of public scrutiny but live with a broken heart for the rest of his life?
"You're a bastard," I tell Clark's father in the coolest voice I can manage. He just continues to stare at me. He's so sure that he's right.
My desk phone beeps. I don't know what David wants, but whatever it is can wait. I ignore it.
Clark's father and I continue our staring match. I'm so angry right now. I don't know what to do. I want to come across my desk and hit him for even suggesting that I should hurt Clark in that way. I want to scream and cry out in anger and frustration over the fact that he may be right, that I may not be able to protect Clark enough. Why the hell is the world so unfair? I think someone must really hate me.
My desk phone beeps again and I don't know what the fuck David thinks he's doing. He should be able to tell that I don't want to be bothered. I snatch up the phone in my left hand. "What?" I demand at almost the same moment that my office door opens. I look up and see him standing in the doorway.
"Your father," David tells me. He sounds calmer than I expect he really feels.
"Thank you," I tell him softly and hang up. "Father," I greet the man standing in the door.
Mr. Kent turns to look at him and scowls. I know they have history, that's been pretty obvious from the first time I met Clark's father. He didn't just hate me because he'd heard Luthors are bad news. He hated me because he knew that Luthors are bad news, and that meant he had met my father at some time in the past. "Lionel," he growls.
"Jonathan," my father says with a nod, and then walks into the room. He leaves the door open behind him. That isn't like him at all. "Could you leave so I can talk to my son alone?"
"You knew about this relationship," Mr. Kent accuses my father.
My father snorts sarcastically. "So? You expected me to tell you? I don't owe you anything, Jonathan," my father says haughtily.
"You don't owe me anything for my silence for all these years?" Clark's father demands. "After what you did to Susan and me?"
My heart jumps because I know that name. It's connected to the only real scandal I've ever heard about that is associated with my father. It's something that Donolson had told me so long ago now. How is Clark's father involved in it, though?
"It's not my fault if you chose not to take anything. We both know that you didn't keep quiet for me." My father moves closer to where Mr. Kent is sitting and glares down at him. "Leave," he says coldly.
Clark's father stands up then and for a moment I think that he's going to hit my father. Not that I'm worried about dear old dad, but it would be messy and things could get broken. I don't want to have to have things replaced or my office cleaned in the middle of the day if I don't have to. He glares at my father for a long time and then turns back to look at me again. "Good day, Lex," he tells me. He turns to walk out, pointedly ignoring my father. He shuts the door heavily.
My father seems unfazed and takes the chair that Clark's father just vacated. He drops the briefcase he's carrying on the floor and then looks up at me. "So, he was here whining about his kid?"
"Father," I snap. "I'm in no mood. What do you want?"
"You paid him off," Father says pointedly. My stomach drops. How can he know about that?
"Cooper?"
"Cooper?" my father mimics my surprised expression. "Of course, Cooper. Is anyone else blackmailing you these days? You involved in anything else questionable, Lex?"
"No," I tell him. He's leaning back in the chair now, looking pretty smug. "You're involved in this, aren't you?"
Father snorts. "You didn't honestly think that Donolson would ever do anything I didn't specifically tell him to do, did you?" he demands with a raised eyebrow.
Oh, really?
"Did you tell him to fuck me, too?" I demand and my father just smiles in response. In that moment I want to kill him. What did he think that would accomplish? Was he just trying to confirm the rumors that said I would fuck anything that moved? "Did you know he told me about Julia?" I ask softly. I'm so surprised when I see his face pale. I can't believe that I've won one against him. I know who's getting fired tonight. The bastard deserves it, too.
"What did he tell you?" he asks quietly. It's his scary quiet voice, hard like diamond and deadly as ice.
"It was after he had gotten the charges dropped. We were drunk and I said something about how you must be glad you only have one kid since I'm so expensive and Donolson was nice enough to point out that I wasn't your only progeny. He told me about Susan and Julia and the whole thing." That's a little bit of an exaggeration in itself. Donolson had told me that there had been a woman named Susan that my father had fooled around with and that Susan had a daughter, Julia. Since my dear dad still made payments to Susan, Donolson could only assume that Julia was his daughter.
"I know about the payments you make to Susan, Father," I tell him coldly when he doesn't respond right away. I stare at him, daring him to deny it, daring him to tell me that he hadn't cheated on my mother while she was pregnant with me.
He doesn't though. He just leans back in his chair and grins coldly. "You know it was for you, so that your inheritance would be unquestioned."
"Very sloppy, though. You should have made it go away," I chide him. My voice is steady, but my mind is racing feverishly. That bastard, he really had done it. All this time I thought that maybe Donolson was wrong; that there would have been some other explanation. Fantasy, I know, but still. He fucking well cheated on my mother. She was pregnant so he turned to someone else. I didn't think I could hate him more than I already did, but now I know it's possible.
"Children don't just go away, Lex. Especially when their mothers won't be sensible enough to have an abortion and take your money," my father tells me. "Not that you'll ever need to deal with that problem at the rate you're going."
I snort in response. I still think he could have taken care of the situation better. He thinks he's so smart
"So what was this, father? Some kind of test?" I glare at him steadily.
"Everything's a test, Lex. Quite frankly I expected better of you, especially after the way you dealt with Nixon."
The bastard. He's somehow been involved in it all, ever since I got here. He sent me out here to let all the talk about me die down a little bit, but he also sent me out here to see if he could trust me to be loyal to our family, to protect the business at all costs. Clark's just another convenient learning experience for him to exploit to teach me what he wants me to know, that a Luthor needs to be ruthless no matter what.
"What the fuck did you expect me to do?" I demand of him.
"I expected you to take care of the situation."
"Cooper's not as easy to control as Nixon," I tell him harshly, "he's completely clean."
"I know," my father tells me with a small, cold grin.
Bastard. He had expected me to have Cooper killed. That was probably the only thing I could have done that would have satisfied his test. I feel myself pale, and my father must know that I know exactly what he's talking about.
"Don't tell me it didn't cross your mind, Lex," he drawls. He knows me just as well as I know myself. He knows that I'm capable of almost everything that he is, and he's right, it did cross my mind. "What held your hand? That Kent child? Were you afraid he would think less of you?"
"Fuck you," I snap. He's right, if it weren't for Clark I probably would have seriously considered having Cooper killed. I'm glad that I hadn't, though, because of Clark, but also because I don't want to be my father, and having someone killed just to protect the company would make me exactly like him.
My father raises an eyebrow at me. Damn my emotions. "Control yourself, Lex. You know you've failed. You let yourself be manipulated. All for what? A sixteen-year-old boy? Was he really worth the money?" My father stands up and walks around the side of my desk. He reaches out and touches my cheek as he talks. I flinch away. Sometimes he's a little creepy this way, nothing over the line, but more tactile than I like. In fact, I've never really liked anyone touching me except Clark. He's the only one who's ever gotten past enough of my barriers for me to allow casual touching.
"Yes," I say fiercely and stare at my father, daring him to contradict me.
He holds my eyes for a long minute and then nods. "And that's why you aren't going to see him anymore, Lex," he tells me. It's not even an order; it's simply a statement of fact. Like he thinks I'm really just going to do whatever he wants for no reason what so ever.
"I'll do whatever I want," I tell him loudly. "I don't need your permission for this relationship, Father."
"Oh, but I think you do, Lex," he draws his words out slowly and runs his hand along the back of my chair as he speaks. He leans down so that he's right in my face before speaking again. "I really think you do."
"I don't need your fucking money," I tell him. It's the first time I've ever told him that to his face. I've said it to a lot of people. Come to think of it, I said it to Donolson years ago, so he probably heard it from the man, but I've never said it directly to my father before.
He laughs at me and pulls back out of my face. "Your mother's money would never keep you in the kind of lifestyle you're used to, Lex," he tells me with a cynical smile. "But that's not why you need my permission for this relationship. You need it because I own your boy's parents." He walks over to where he's dropped his briefcase next to the chair he was sitting in. He extracts a folder and passes it over to me.
I look at him with pure hate in my eyes, but eventually open the file and look at the contents. Inside is a complete copy of Clark's adoption record. The birth certificate is the same one I saw before and it looks fine but the death certificate of his 'birth mother' looks very suspicious, and if I can tell there's something wrong, I'm sure a trained professional would be able to as well. Shit, Clark. Where the hell did your parents get you? Did they steal you from somewhere? They don't seem the type, but I know desperate people can do anything and I can almost imagine Clark's mother being so desperate for a child of her own that she would do anything.
I close my eyes and find my hand traveling up to my head. Shit, not in front of my father. I reach for the water that I've forgotten on my desk and put that in my hand instead. I drink deeply, wishing it was alcohol, but I'm willing to make do with what I have on hand. I continue to page through the file and find a doctor's report that's shorter than I expected and basically just says that Clark's healthy. No immunization or blood typing records are in the file. The doctor who wrote the report is one I recognize from town, probably a personal friend of the Kents. I wonder if he ever even saw Clark.
"Shit," I whisper as I close the file after I've gone through the whole thing.
"You continue this relationship and the Metropolis PD will receive a copy of this file and the Kents' address. You wouldn't want Clark to be removed from their care, would you Lex? Who knows where he might end up at this point? And they'd inevitably be charged with kidnapping since they obviously didn't receive him in any legal way."
"You're a bastard," I snarl.
"And you're a romantic fool, Lex. Luthors can't afford these kinds of emotional attachments. Look what it's done to you. Cooper can manipulate you, I can manipulate you, and there's nothing you can do about it because you've deluded yourself into thinking that you have some kind of feelings for this child."
"Fuck you," I snap back.
My father laughs at my childish display. "Is that all you have, Lex? I would have thought better of you than that."
"I'll tell about Julia," I threaten. It's a last-ditch effort but it might be enough to get him to relent on his demand.
I know right away that it isn't because he doesn't look the least bit worried. He smiles evilly at me and gives another little snort of laughter. "Susan will deny it and the blood tests will come back negative. Don't be stupid, Lex. I own these people. They won't cross me if they know what's good for them and they do." He walks over and picks up his briefcase from where he left it on the chair. "You keep that, Lex. I have other copies," he tells me and then walks out of the room.
"Fucking bastard," I call after him just before the door closes behind him. I hear the beginning of his crack of laughter before the door shuts heavily between us.
It seems, and this may be true for a lot of people, that as soon as I think my day can't possibly get any worse it invariably does. It's days like today that make me hate my life, that make me wish I had been born anyone except Alexander Joseph Luthor. Clark's father wants me to end our relationship. My father is demanding that I end it, or he'll tear Clark's family apart. My heart, the one that I've just rediscovered, is breaking. So, it only makes sense that there would be some kind of problem at the plant that would require me to head out there almost immediately after my father left my office.
I sigh and lean back into the chair that I've collapsed into. I've just spent 12 hours at the plant and I'm exhausted. Production had been down for the last few days and then early this afternoon they had started detecting impurities in the end fertilizer product, impurities that couldn't be explained by any known problems with the line. So they had needed to check the entire process before they could track it down to a shipment of organics last week that contained pieces of that strange green meteor rock that was so prevalent around here. We had to flush out the tanks and start again from scratch. Of course, we also have a disposal nightmare now, but my employees will take care of the rest of it from here.
I should drag myself up to my room, but I'm so tired that I can barely move. I just want to rest here for a moment and then I'll get up. Even as I think that, I know I'll fall asleep in this chair. I feel like I'm carrying the weight of the world on my shoulder. I couldn't move even if my life depended on it. My eyes are heavy and my mind is drifting off into sleep.
"Lex?" he asks and I can feel his hand on my thigh. It's big and warm, and it feels so very real.
"Clark," I murmur. It's so nice that I would dream of him now. I need him, just for a little while longer, to chase the demons away. I know I'll have to give him up eventually, but not yet, not now.
"Lex, are you okay?" he asks me. He's so caring, so concerned with my well-being. I've never had anyone who constantly cared for me so much. Even my mother had other responsibilities, times when I couldn't be her first priority, when she needed to be away attending to one thing or another, but with Clark it's like he's dedicated his life to taking care of me.
"Mmm, tired," I mutter.
He laughs softly and runs his hand over my head. Oh that's nice. I never really liked my head being stroked before. I've always associated the feeling with unease, but when Clark does it, it's so calming. His hand settles at the back of my neck and begins massaging me gently. "I can see that," he says. I feel him lean in and kiss me on the cheek. "Let's get you up to bed."
"Can't move," I tell dream Clark.
"It's okay," he tells me with a soft laugh.
I don't know what he means by that but a moment later I feel like I'm floating in his arms. He's carrying me. I'm not really a light guy, but Clark's more than strong enough to manage my weight. That's nice. I settle against his chest and drift off fully into my sleep.
I wake up slowly. The light is bright in my room, so that means I've slept in well past my usual wake-up time. I can't say that I care though, because right now there's this deliciously warm feeling wrapped around my cock and I know that someone is sucking me off. They're doing a pretty good job of it, too. It's so good. Mmm, Clark. I close my eyes again, lean back into my pillow, and moan softly.
The heat leaves my cock just for a moment and I open my eyes to look down at the person sharing my bed. He draws back the sheet. His rumpled head pokes out from under the black fabric and he smiles up at me. "You're awake," he observes breathily.
Clark crawls up my body and kisses me soundly. His tongue drifts into my mouth and I can taste just a hint of myself on his tongue. I love that flavor of him and me together. It's addictive. His tongue travels through my mouth slowly, exploring areas that I know he already knows well. Every time is like the first time with Clark. I wonder if that's because of how young he is.
Eventually he finishes kissing me and pulls back. He grins cheekily at me, kisses me on the nose and then returns to his task of sucking my cock.
"Yes," I confirm my status as being awake. "Yes," I gasp again when his mouth wraps around my cock once more.
I can feel an aching and throbbing in my groin that I was unaware of before. I'm so hard. I need to come so badly. I'm so close, closer than I usually am this soon. I wonder how long he was sucking me before I woke up because this feels like he's been going at it for a while.
Clark must be able to tell I'm close because he sucks hard, running his tongue up and down my length and then back up around the head. I've taught him exactly what to do to bring me off and he's learnt well. His talented mouth is working me as if he's done this a million times. I reach down and tangle my fingers in his hair. He knows I'm close, I only get grabby when I am, and he opens as wide as he can to take me deep down his throat. It's so good and so right and, I'm coming, hard and long, and screaming his name. I can feel him smiling around my cock and I smile too.
Eventually he lets me slip out of his mouth and he crawls up the bed to lie next to me. He kisses me thoroughly again and lets me taste myself inside his mouth. He's not the only one who likes to do that afterwards. We pull apart and Clark snuggles into my side and sighs happily. "I love you," he tells me gently.
It's so strange how those words are the ones that make everything come back to me. The ones that make everything flood back into my tired brain, this weekend, his father, my father, everything. Oh, God. I stiffen and draw away from him slightly. I know he feels it, because he looks up at me with hurt in his eyes. He can't understand why I would draw away from him right after he's told me that he loves me. He thought we were past this particular fear of mine.
"What's wrong?" he asks softly and reaches out to touch my face.
"I... Where do your parents think you are?" I ask harshly and slap his hand away. After everything that's happened in the last couple of days, the last thing I need is for them to call the cops because they think I've taken off with their son.
"I don't care," Clark tells me sharply. "They're going to send me away to live with my aunt and uncle. They don't think you're a good influence." He's looking at me like he's daring me to tell him that he should do what he parents tell him to do. That's so like a sixteen year old to run away from his problems instead of facing them. He's so much younger than me, and all the sudden it really hits me.
I don't know what to do. This is it, the moment when I have to decide what I'm going to do about Clark. I didn't even have any warning, any chance to work out what I'm going to say. It's so unfair that I have to go into this blind, not knowing how it will turn out. Do I take what I want, him, and let my father destroy everything that his parents have or do I deny myself and him and give him back to the life that he deserves, the one that I could never really give him? Clark deserves to be happy, he deserves to be loved, and he deserves to be with the parents who love him no matter how they came about having him. He needs to be with people who understand his differences and can protect him from the rest of the world.
That last thought is the deciding factor. Clark needs to be protected from the people who would use him to control me. I care about him too much to allow him to be hurt because of me. I can't let other people get their hands on Clark, people who wouldn't understand him, who might turn him over to some group for study and experimentation. It would only take one doctor, making one call and then Clark could be gone forever. His secrets extracted and studied in who knows what way. Mr. Kent is right; if I love him I will let him go. Who would have thought I would ever make a decision this hard for someone else's good?
"You should listen to them, Clark. I'm not a good influence," I tell him and then draw even further away from him. I'm out of his arms now. My knees are drawn up to my chest and I'm sitting on the side of the bed.
"What?" he asks. His voice is hesitant, but it has a slight laugh in it, like he wants to believe that I'm teasing him but he's not really sure what's going on. He reaches out to touch me again but I just slap his hands away once more. I can't bear to let him touch me right now. If I did, I'd just curl into his arms and never want to leave.
"Being with me will only end up with you being hurt, Clark. You should leave," I tell him. I'm sitting with my legs over the edge of the bed now. My back is to him so that I don't need to see the hurt look on his face. I don't think my resolve would survive that look right now. Knowing what's probably on his face is bad enough.
"Lex?" he asks softly. There's a catch in his voice. He sounds like he might cry. He reaches out and places his hand on my shoulder. I flinch away from his touch and then stand up.
I'm naked and I can't remember how I got that way. In fact I remember very little about last night after I got home. I remember sitting in one of the chairs downstairs and closing my eyes. I remember a vague dream about Clark where he came to check on me and then carried me up to bed. I realize that wasn't a dream. Clark had really been in my house last night. If he's been here that long, the Kents must be really worried by now.
I walk over towards the closet and take out my robe. I can't have this conversation while I don't have anything on. That would just be too cruel to both of us. I move to one of the windows and fix my gaze out of it.
"I..." I start but my voice catches as well. I feel like I'm going to cry. I can't. I can't let Clark know how much this is hurting me too. I need him to think that I'm pushing him away, rejecting him because I don't want to deal with the complications of having a relationship with a teenaged boy. I can't let him know that I'm only doing this for his own good, that if I had a real choice I would stay with him for the rest of my life. "I think we should end this relationship, Clark. You should go," I tell him strongly. My voice is flat, business-like. It lacks all emotion.
"Lex," he repeats but this time it's more of a sob. I hear my bed creak softly as he gets up off it. "Please, don't do this. I love you."
I don't respond. I can't. If I opened my mouth right now everything would come out. I would tell him about his father's request and my father's demand. I would tell him about the adoption papers and what I know about his abilities. I would tell him all of it and then he would be more determined than ever to save me from everything evil in my life. I can't place that on him. He deserves his own life, free of the complications of my world.
"And... and you love me. I know you do. You told me," he whispers. He's right behind me now. His hand is on my shoulder. His other arm is snaking around my waist, trying to draw me back against him.
"No," I say sharply and try to shake him off. His grip on me is strong though and his arms grasp me tighter to hold me in place. I panic a little bit in that moment. If I can't get him off me, I'll never be able to complete what I have to do here. "Let me go, Clark," I growl.
He releases me and steps back. I hear his sob and my resolve almost crumbles, but then I imagine him sobbing as the police take his parents away or him sobbing because he's in pain from some experiment that's being performed on him and I know I'm doing the right thing. Clark needs to be as far away from me as possible.
"This isn't you, Lex," he cries. "Did my father put you up to this?" His voice is full or anger and hatred and I understand that this could also be a turning point in his relationship with his father. As much as I don't feel that I owe the man anything, I do owe Clark a lot, and if I can give him his father's love then I will.
"No," I tell him sincerely. There's no reason for him to doubt that what I'm saying is the truth.
"Your father?" he asks softer.
This is my chance. I can pull the rich spoiled brat card and maybe Clark will believe it. He's pretty smart, and I know that he thinks he knows me better than that, but he might just have enough doubts about me to believe it. "He'll disown me," I tell him in the same flat voice.
Clark's silent for a long moment. I can hear him backing up from where I'm standing and crossing the room. "I thought I meant more to you then that, Lex. I thought I was your friend. You told me that you loved me," he chokes on the last words.
All I want to do is cry out to him that I do love him then rush across the room and take him in my arms. I want to comfort him and make the hurt go away. I want him. I want us. I can't have it and I know it. My hands dig into the windowpane to keep me in place. I grip it so hard that I scrape the skin off the ends of my fingers. It hurts. The hurt is good; it makes me know that I'm still human even though I don't feel like it right now.
I can hear Clark pulling on his own clothes across the room from me. Something tears as he pulls it on and I know that he's lost control over himself.
"You're a child, Clark," I tell him. The words feel like they're being torn straight from my soul. All the goodness that he's placed inside of me is coming out with the awful hurtful words. "A foolish, romantic child. Luthors don't love anyone. You should have listened to your father."
He gasps. He's shocked that I would actually say those words. I almost think that he's going to come over and slap me and, really, I'd deserve it if he does. But in the end, Clark doesn't touch me.
"Fuck you, Lex," he snarls.
I laugh ironically because he has and I already know that he'll be the last man who ever does. There will never be another who can take his place, no matter what. My mother once told me, after I asked her why she married my father, that there's one person for everyone in this world. Clark was mine and now he's gone.
I hear him start towards the door and turn just in time to see him storm out and slam it behind him. The door rattles and shakes in his wake and then cracks down the center. It looks like my heart feels.
I wait for a good five minutes for him to leave the house before I walk back over to the bed and collapse onto it. When I lie down I can still feel his heat and smell his scent on the sheets. Wrap myself up in them and pretend that they're him. It's the last comfort I'll ever get from Clark. I curl up tightly and finally let myself cry.
My phone rings and I snap awake. I look at the clock on the bedside table and see that it's two in the afternoon. I don't know how long I've slept but it's been a few hours. Since maybe half an hour after Clark left me here alone. I close my eyes tightly against that memory. I never even imagined that it would hurt this much when I finally broke it off with him.
The phone rings again and I look at it. It's sitting next to the alarm clock. I don't remember putting it there. Clark must have after he undressed me last night. My stomach knots up at that thought and for one single adolescent moment I consider never moving it from that spot ever again.
The phone rings a third time and I finally pick it up. I check the call display and see that it's Clark's home number. Could it be him? Should I take it or not? Can I stand up against an assault of Clark trying to convince me to take him back, to continue this relationship? Fate couldn't be so cruel as to send everything I want begging for me to take it.
The phone rings for a fourth time. I take a deep breath and decide to bite the bullet and answer.
"Hello?" I answer calmly. I'm incredibly surprised when my voice doesn't break part way through the word.
"Lex." It's Clark's father and I can't help but groan in the phone.
"Look, I did what you wanted," I snap. "Did he not come home?"
"No, he came home. He's been in his room crying for the last four hours. He won't talk to me but he let his mother take him some soup a while ago. I don't know what you said to him, but... thank you."
I snort ironically. I hate this man so much right now, almost as much as I hate my own father. "I break your son's heart and you thank me," I say sarcastically. "I never thought anyone would ever thank me for something like that."
"It's better than that alternative, Lex, and you know it."
"Fuck you," I snap at him. I've given him what he wants. I don't need to like it.
We're both silent for a long moment. There's really nothing else to say.
"You're a good man, Lex. I didn't think you had it in you to do the right thing here," he tells me. "I respect that you did."
I close my eyes in pain. Fuck, that's hard to hear. "When you met your wife, how did you know she was the one?" I ask him suddenly. I'm not sure where the words have come from but I feel it's incredibly important for me to know.
"I knew because I was willing to give up what I loved to make her happy," he tells me simply.
I sigh softly. "Me too," I tell him.
He grunts softly. He knows that I'm talking about his son and what I've just done. "Good bye, Lex," he says.
I don't respond. I just hang up and drop the phone. It lands on the floor with a small clatter and I idly wonder if it's broken before realizing that I really don't care. I wonder if I'll ever care about anything ever again.
It's Saturday again. Seven days ago we were together, happy. Seven days ago we were laughing and smiling and the biggest concern I had was how to get Clark away from a silly girl at a basketball game. Seven days ago we made love, really made love, for the first time. Clark fucked me, loved me, had been inside my body. Seven days ago I realized I was in love for the first, and likely only, time in my life. We were on top of the world. We should have been more cautious with that feeling.
Six days ago it had all came crumbling down around us. My world fell apart that day. Now I can't feel anything. I'm numb all over all the time. I can't do anything either. I'm lethargic and useless. I don't care about anything that happens. There's nothing more that I can lose. I'm broken and I know it. I'm broken and my father knows it. He sent me here to break me from my rebellion and he's succeeded. He hadn't really had to do anything to make it happen, either. I brought it all upon myself by thinking that I could fall in love and come out of it unscathed, by thinking that my father would ever allow me to fall in love and actually stay with that person.
I look down at the envelope sitting on my desk and sigh. It's been there since Wednesday and I have a pretty good idea what it is. It's from Clark's cousin, Cindy, and there's only one thing that I can imagine she would have sent me, the picture that she had taken of Clark and I on Christmas Day. We had just come down a hill on the sled and we were both laughing. We were looking at each other and I was thinking about how badly I wanted to be able to kiss Clark right then and there, and suddenly Cindy had snapped the picture. She promised to send me a copy when she got the film developed and it must have taken her this long to do it. I had almost completely forgotten about it until the envelope arrived this week.
I haven't been able to open it. I don't know if I can look at the picture of Clark and me so happy together now that we're not. Ah, fuck it. I can't feel any worse than I do right now. I pick up the envelope and slit it open. As I expected, it's the picture and a short note from Cindy. The picture is great and almost exactly like I remembered. We're both dusted with snow, laughing broadly and looking at each other. Our heads are so close together that we would be kissing if we got any closer. The love in our eyes is obvious, at least to me. It must be to Cindy as well because when I look at her note my heart skips a beat.
Lex,
You guys are a cute couple. Don't worry, I won't tell Aunt Martha and Uncle Jon. Take care of Clark, hey? He's pretty special. Oh, and I sent a copy to him too. I had a great time that day and I hope you did too. Hope to see you soon.
Take Care,
Cindy
I drop the note and the picture onto my desk. We look so happy, so carefree. I wish I could go back to that day and stay in that time indefinitely. I wish I could change the way it all turned out, but I honestly don't know how I could have. In a very real way our relationship was doomed from the moment it started.
I don't know how to go on from here, but something I do know is that I can't stay here. Everything in this house reminds me of Clark, of things we did together, of conversations we had. I can't even sleep in my bedroom anymore. I had the servants strip the sheets and replace them with new ones. Different colors, different textures, but it didn't help. I still felt him in my bed. Last night I slept in one of the rooms down the hall that I'd never even been in before and it was the first time I'd actually slept more than a couple hours since I broke it off with Clark.
I can't even imagine going into town, seeing all the places we've been together, first as friends and then as lovers. I'll never been able to go for coffee in this town, to the theatre, past the high school without thinking of Clark and the times we spent together in those places. I can't stay here. Even if it means crawling back to my father's house in Metropolis and doing whatever he wants for the rest of my life, I can't stay here.
I've been putting off calling him because I didn't want to admit that he was right, that love was my weakness, that my feelings for Clark let him manipulate me into doing exactly what he wanted right from the start. I can't put it off anymore. I can't stay here for even one more day. The constant sadness is killing me.
I pick up my phone and dial my father's cell number. It's the weekend, he won't necessarily be at the office and I'd rather not speak to the people there if I don't have to. It rings a couple of time before he picks up. I can hear laughter in the background. It sounds like maybe he's at the club.
"Lex," he greets me.
"Father," I say.
"What can I do for you, son?" he asks me smoothly. He knows very well what I'm calling about.
"I need to get out of Smallville," I tell him.
"Oh?" he asks like he has no idea what I'm talking about at all. "So it didn't end well?"
"Father," I snap.
"You ended it?" he asks.
"Yes," I tell him with a sigh.
"You understand now why you can never let yourself love someone again? That you could be manipulated like this in the future and next time it might not be me, it might be someone else? You could bring the whole company down with this foolishness, Lex. Empires are destroyed by these sorts of things."
"Yes, I understand," I tell him. "I'll never love anyone again, you don't have to worry about that." My voice is full of the hurt that I just can't seem to hide very well anymore.
"Good," my father says. "Come back home, Lex. We'll find a place for you here and then you can go back to school in the fall."
"Okay," I sigh.
"Good boy. One day you'll thank me for this, you'll see," he tells me.
I snort. "Good bye, Father," I tell him and hang up. I feel like I've just handed my soul over to the devil.
-end-
02-03-09