Fic: but next month will we still feel the same?
Title: but next month will we still feel the same?
Author: nicnac918
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Clex
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Word count: 1525
Summary: Clark doesn't need to see the red dot on the calendar to know what today is
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Not mine, not for profit
**********
Clark is finishing getting ready for the day, adjusting his tie and heading to the kitchen for breakfast, when he walks past the calendar. He doesn’t want to look, doesn’t need to look to know exactly what day today is. But the little red dot next to the fifteen catches his attention, the same way it does every month. Sighing heavily, Clark continues to the kitchen, his morning just a bit worse than it was a minute ago.
“What did you just say?” Lex asked, his expression the most carefully neutral Clark has ever seen it.
“I said that I…” Clark gulped in a deep breath and forced himself to repeat his words. “I said that I’m in love with you. And I… uh… want to kiss you?”
Lex didn’t say anything, or even look like anything, just sat there completely blank. Clark began freaking out, sure that he had messed this whole thing up. What had he been thinking, saying things like that to Lex? Lex liked girls and besides Clark is just a dorky sixteen year old kid, why would Lex be interested in someone like him? Clark should have just been grateful that Lex liked having him as a friend and just left well enough alone.
“I’m sorry,” Clark said. “This was stupid; I’m sorry. I’ll just go.”
Clark stood up and started to leave when a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. “Lex?” he said questioningly, turning back to look at the other man.
Lex was smiling like the cat that got the canary, and a saucer of cream besides. “Just where do you think you’re going?”
“I - uh - I…”
“I believe,” Lex said, tugging on Clark’s arm and completely ignoring his stuttering, “you promised me a kiss.”
After a heated debate with Lois over it, Clark finds himself headed to the deli to pick up lunch for the two of them. There’s a new girl working there, or at least one Clark hasn’t seen before, and she flirts with him a little as he gives her his order. She’s cute, and yesterday or tomorrow he might have flirted back, and last week or next he definitely would have. Today though, he just gives her a tight smile and leaves as quickly as possible.
His hands roamed over the creamy pale skin and the defined muscles of Lex’s back, unable to get enough of the soft-hard feeling. Lex’s mouth was at Clark’s neck, nipping, licking, sucking, and doing his damned best to leave a mark on invulnerable skin. Clark was pretty sure this was the most turned on he had ever been in his life, and, if the pressure against Clark’s thigh is anything to go by, the same might be true for Lex. It was entirely possible Clark was going to come in his pants, which, given Lex’s insistence over the fact that Clark being six-now-seven-teen meant that they needed to take things slow, might not be such a bad idea.
Suddenly, Lex drew away from Clark’s neck and Clark couldn’t help the whimper of loss. Stormy blue eyes with pupils blown as wide as Clark has ever seen them met Clark’s, and maybe it wasn’t that big a loss after all. “What do you say to continuing this up in my bedroom?”
Correction, this is the most turned on Clark has ever been in his life.
“Really?” Clark asked, and why was he giving Lex a chance to second guess himself again?
Lex gave a predatory smile and leaned in to whisper in Clark’s ear. “I want you to fuck me.” Clark’s body shuddered involuntarily, which Lex apparently took completely the wrong way, as he continued with, “If you’re ready.”
Clark just hoped that being super-sped into his bed was enough of an answer for Lex.
Chloe calls him up and asks if he wants to go see a movie that night. He reminds her of the date and she falters; he can very nearly here the question of why he keeps doing this on her lips. She doesn’t ask it though, and Clark is grateful. Because, truthfully, he doesn’t know the answer.
“I can’t believe you would do something like this!” Clark yelled, his face flush with anger.
“Well, maybe if you’d let me explain,” Lex said looking completely unruffled, and didn’t that just piss Clark off even more.
“Explain? You’re experimenting on people! How do you ‘explain’ that?”
“Those people are all meteor mutants that have proven themselves to be extremely dangerous to everyone around them,” said Lex, as though that completely absolved him of any wrong-doing. Clark stared at Lex and wondered when exactly he had stopped recognizing the person across from him.
“And who appointed you their judge, jury, and executioner?” Clark shot at him. If Clark had been feeling rational, he would have acknowledged that the last part of that question wasn’t fair, - Lex hadn’t killed anyone yet - but Clark wasn’t anything like rational at the moment.
“I did, because no one else was going to do anything about it if I didn’t. It’s great that you use your powers to stop them Clark, but they’re just going to do the same thing all over again unless someone contains them and fixes them.”
“Fix them?” Clark repeated incredulously. These were people they were talking about, not some broken piece of equipment that Lex could just mess around with until it got better. “And then what will you do Lex? Are you going to try to fix me too?”
Lex shut down, totally and completely in a way that Clark had only seen him do around Lionel before. “You need to go Clark. Now.”
“We aren’t done here,” Clark protested.
“We are,” Lex told him. “If that’s really what you think of me, then we’re done.” The tone of utter finality in Lex’s voice left no question as to his meaning.
Clark fought off the pinpricks in his eyes - three years together was a long time - and stormed out. He was better off anyway.
Clark glances at the clock. 9:55 pm. Anyone else would be running late at this point, but Clark can afford a few more minutes to decide whether or not he’s really going to go through with this again. Of course if he were anyone else then he wouldn’t be in this position in the first place. Is it really too much to ask that in just this one thing he could be normal? He looks at the clock again. 9:59. Reluctantly, he throws on the suit and flies out the window.
“Jor-El! You need to do something to help Lex,” Clark called as he entered the Fortress, placing the unconscious man down on an available flat surface. Clark sounded more concerned than was probably appropriate given his and Lex’s current venomous relationship, but he couldn’t just turn the worry and caring off in a month and a half. “I was” - yelling, accusing, fighting - “talking to him and he collapsed. His mutation protects him from human diseases, so it must be alien in origin.”
“When was that last time you had intercourse with your mate Kal-El?” Jor-El asked him out of nowhere.
“Why does that even matter? Besides, he’s not my ‘mate’ anymore,” Clark protested.
There was a pause. “You have had sexual relations with Lex Luthor, correct?”
“Yes, but we broke up. Now, tell me what I need to do to make him better,” demanded Clark.
There was another pause and Clark got the distinct impression that the AI literally did not understand what Clark was telling it. “You have to have regular intercourse with your mate Kal-El,” Jor-El finally responded. “Since he is human, he lacks the biology to make you dependent on him, but he is still properly bonded to you. He can only go a month without intercourse before showing the symptoms, and two months without will kill him.”
“Fan-fucking-tasic,” drawled Lex, and Clark turned around to see him, eyes open and awake.
“I’m not exactly happy about this either,” Clark snapped at him.
“Good,” said Lex viciously. “Because this doesn’t change a thing.”
Clark lands on the balcony silently and Lex is there, just inside the French doors, waiting for him. This would be easier, so, so much easier Clark knows, if he could just wipe the look of revulsion off his face. If Clark could just focus on the creamy pale skin and stormy blue eyes and get lost in the sensation of body-on-body, skin-to-skin contact like he used to. But whenever he looks at Lex now it’s like his x-ray vision won’t turn off and all Clark can see is that coiled bit of blackness that Lex calls a soul.
Indecision is etched across Lex’s face, though Clark is probably the only one who could read it. It’s, quite literally, fuck or die, and every time Clark shows up he can see Lex wondering if it’s really worth it. Slowly Lex’s hand twists the lock and opens the door.
This month it’s worth it. This month they’ll go through this horrible parody of the love and devotion they once shared.
This month.