A Helping Hand

"Sick, twisted, evil fuck..." Oliver muttered, pacing around his apartment office in Metropolis.

Lex had used him like a fucking lube dispenser, and the insult more than stung. He'd wanted to rip the bald man's fucking head off and use it for target practice.

A smirk crossed his face at the thought, and he moved towards his secret room to get out his bow for a little practice.

He must have been at it for a couple of hours, judging by the burning muscles of his arms. Turning to look at the clock on his desk, he groaned at the time.

"Damn it."

He'd missed a conference call that had been scheduled with Wayne Industries. Sighing heavily, he moved to grab the phone, only to have his wrist stopped...held in place by a firm grasp.

"Ollie."

Looking up into brilliant green eyes, he forced a smile on his face and hoped Clark wouldn't notice the slight shake that thrummed through his body.

"Hello, Clark." Oliver said, his voice calm. "I wasn't expecting you." Wasn't expecting the feel of Clark's skin around his. God, he's seen this man naked and writhing. The most exquisite being in the world.

Shining hair, darkened by the lack of light in the room, fell forward over a flawless face as Clark bowed his head. "I came to apologize."

Oliver tugged on his hand, flexing his fingers after Clark released his arm. He moved away from the man, fighting against the urge to move closer instead. "Why?"

"The way things happened...what Lex did, and I just let it all happen and..." Clark trailed off helplessly, shrugging huge shoulders.

"Clark," Oliver said softly, lifting a hand to rub a soothing touch across Clark's tensed bicep. Felt the small shiver, and pressed his fingers into the flesh harder. "I knew the score going in. In case YOU have forgotten...that was kind of the whole plan. Well...maybe not the added bonus Lex decided to throw in, but that wasn't you."

"I did nothing to stop it." There was shame in that sweet voice, and though he understood it, he didn't want it there. Clark had never been anything but honest with him.

He felt the need to return the favor.

"You're right. But, Clark, what you don't understand...what you don't GET...I know I don't stand a chance with you. You're in love with Lex. I know that. But what happened...when he took you with my come, as much as it pissed me off, it was arousing as hell. Just knowing that part of me was inside you. I came home and nearly jerked my fucking dick off."

Huge green eyes flared up at him. "But...it was just a game, wasn't it? The plan...I mean, you never said anything-"

Oliver grinned ruefully. "I know. My own fault."

"You wanted me?" The shock in that voice nearly brought Oliver to a raging laughter. How on earth could Clark Kent live in a world with mirrors, and NOT realize that everyone would want him? Unbe-fucking-lievable.

"No."

"Oh." Clark's voice sounded both relieved and...disappointed. Interesting.

A slow smile slid across Oliver's face. "I WANT you, Clark. I have from the beginning, and I don't see that changing any time soon."

"Oh, Ollie."

Oliver stepped forward, moving into Clark's space, brushing his chest against the other man's. He looked into his eyes, and smiled, leaning forward to lick at a pillowy-soft set of lips. He hummed against them, nipped them, until he felt them part just slightly. His hands moved up to sink into that ridiculously silky hair, and he held Clark's face still. He dipped his tongue into that sweet, whimpering mouth and feasted on the sweetness there. Felt the younger man's firm flesh filling against his hip, and sighed. Moaned, into Clark's warm, open mouth.

And whimpered, himself, when Clark pulled back, frantic.

"I can't do this." He sounded out of breath, and terrified, and Oliver ran a hand down his face, soothing him.

"Clark, it's okay."

"No! It's not. I told Lex...and now I'm here! And, I'm feeling so confused, Ollie. When you helped me, I was feeling these...these THINGS, and I didn't know what to do with them, so I just put everything into Lex. And I LOVE him. I really DO. I love him so much. I won't hurt him any more. I can't. I can't risk losing him. Not now. I won't."

Oliver ran his tongue across his teeth. He could still taste Clark, the flavor strong on his tongue.

"Maybe you should just get it out of your system."

Clark glared at him fiercely, and Oliver winced, knowing the possibility for destruction in those pretty eyes. "That's not going to happen." Clark choked out.

When Clark whirled away, his eyes facing the floor, Oliver called out cheerfully, "You wanted that, Clark. We both know it. I'll see you again really soon."

The elevator shuddered, taking the upset man with it, and Oliver strutted towards his desk, his mood quite pleasant. Clark wanted him. At least, some part of him did. And, he would use that, exploit it. He'd have him. He'd keep him.

He'd get him away from Lex. The possibility was there. He could still taste it.

The smile only increased when he noticed the slender, suited body out of the corner of his eye.

Without turning, he chuckled, and threw his voice across the room. "Enjoy the show, Lex? I know I had fun."

The answering laugh was dark and wild. "I can't believe you thought you could touch him."

"I think that's up to Clark, Lex. You're not his keeper." Oliver said, shaking his head with amusement.

"Perhaps not. But, he does belong to me, and you're not ever going to do that again."

Oliver was still laughing when the tiny hypodermic needle flew into his calf.

Lex caught him as he slid onto the floor in a boneless heap of useless limbs.

"You going to kill me, Lex?" He muttered, his words slurred and heavy.

"No, Oliver." Lex purred. "I'm going to destroy you."

~~~Sorry this took so long to update. I've been working on a zillion and a half stories, and I've got another billion in the works. lol. Anyway, for those who enjoy this series, I hope you like the addition, here. I plan on having another part up within the week (if not sooner).
~Morgan