Luthors don't

Amnesia is MINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Muahahahahahahahahahahaa!!!! ............................................................................................................
¬_¬ The rest you see here.... is not. Fuck!!!


I've always loved Gotham City. It is such a dark, sort of wicked place. Quite dangerous for those who don't that accept bit of dark within themselves, those who would never accept we are all good and evil, not just one thing or the other. Dangerous for people like Clark that, though they may not accept, are strictly narrowminded when it comes to morals and principles, and the foundations of deep teological terms such as good and evil... Or so I believed, until he decided to willingly go inside one of Gotham's most exclusive, therefore wildest, clubs around.

I am not sure exactly when I truly saw the sizes of the monster I had unleashed, but I'm pretty sure it is between the time Clark decided to wear the tightest black leather pants in the shop, with a half unbuttoned esmerald shirt with left NOTHING to the imagination, perfeclty placed under a leather jacket, a belt with so many buckles he spent five minutes putting it on, and a thin leather straps the saleswoman called necklace with the international toxic sign on it, OR when he willingly entered the darkest area in Gotham City, where Amnesia resided, went into the club, and instead of simply turning around and getting the hell out upon looking at the dark, decadent decoration, he merely smiled and said 'Nice place, Lex. Love the name, sort of hints me... Trying to make sure I don't forget the motive of this going out??' then he surveyed the area some, from our place at the entrance. 'Is this a gay club?' He just took it too damn calmly for me not to feel disturbed.

"No, Clark. To both questions. Amnesia is not a gay club, there is no discrimination here, you could be homo or heterosexual and no one would care. This is what the club is all about, Clark: not caring. As long as no crime is commited here, people won't give a damn about what you do, and most importantly, won't mind in your business. Look over there"

I nod to a certain part of the dark place, to where two dark sillouetes were dangerously closer together, moving and grinding against each other in a rythm completely alien to the music, but much more similar to my latest collection of dreams involving Clark Kent.

"Are they-"

"Yes"

"You can-"

"As I said, as long as you're not committing a crime..."

"But they're-"

"Do you see anyone troubled by it??" After a few seconds, he shakes his beautiful head no. "Presicely. Some might want to watch, but in the end, they won't bother to disturb them, even if it is vulgar, because this, Clark, is the only rule running around the place: you are here to forget yourself, everything you are in the outside world, all your responsabilities stay at the door with your coat or jacket, and will get picked on your way out; meanwhile, there are no boundaries, no camaras, no witnesses, no strings attached, or consecuences. Whatever happens in Anmesia, stays in Anmesia, specially when you're in another city and no one knows you at all"

"And that is why you brought me here for field testing" He finishes, and I'm glad he finally understands me.

"Something to drink??" I ask, knowing the answer would be no, and I'm not dissapointed.

I decide it's time to lose some inhibitions with alcohol, whether Clark's willing or not, I will at the least get him to taste a cocktail or two. Taking his hand in mine I start my walk to the bar, telling myself I hold his hand for the sake of not losing him among the crowd, to be sure he'll always be by my side while in the dark enviroment of the club, and not just to feel the heat of his hand in mine, how his fingers tightened around mine as we walked into the busy atmosphere, how his body inched closer to mine as we came close to the bar.

"Lex... nice to see you over here again" One of the barman says, just as soon as we get to the bar. I smile at him.

"Nice to see you too, Rick" I see him give Clark a heated glance, his hazel eyes running up and down MY farm boy... Rick is sure to get a juicy tip from me tonight... I have a feeling he will soon join the alarming numbers of the unemployed population in Gotham City. "The usual, and soda for him" Clark never saw me wink at Rick. The fact that I will have a long, pressing chat with the owner of the club does not take away the fact that I can Still get something out of Ricky here.

Rick nods, turns to get our drinks, but Clark's voice stops him. "I think I'll give the martini a shot" Did I showered alright today?? Really, there's no ear wax twisting my hearing??.... Was I suddenly shoved into a paralel dimension?? It would be more logical than me not bathing right, really... Forgetting the bathing interrogatory, I focus on my dislike of that smirk on Rick's face.

"Not too loaded, Rick. I know your work" I feel, more than actually hear, Clark's rich laughter behind me.

A few moments later, our drinks were served, and Clark takes a tentative shot at the expensive martini, grimacing lightly when the alcohol touches his tastebuds, but not inmediately discarding it, to my great pride. Seems like there is some corruption potential to exploit laying somewhere within Clark's several layers of morals after all. It's strangely refreshing to know he's not so white and unreachable, makes him seem just a tad more human, less of a god. More like a semi-god, to be accurate. Though, there is nothing human or mundane in that leather clad ass.


Half an hour later meets Clark and I at the dance floor, we're not exatly dancing together, like a couple would, that being with our arms wrapped around each other, clinging to the other's body -which is exactly how I would love to dance with him-, but it is clear in the way he comes close to me, to talk to my ear when he wants to say something, and the way our bodies simply gravitate to the other, that the hottest piece of meat in the place already has company; and the company's name is none other than Alexander Joseph Luthor, so you can stop looking at my farm boy's hot ass, you stupid, blond, silicon harvest of a bitch!! Unfortunately, I was too busy glaring at miss everything fake to notice some other, more menacing cloud firmly decided to rain on my parade.

"What have we have here? Lex Luthor himself..." Oh, fuck. This can't get any worst.... turning, my suspicions are confirmed

"Barbara (fooled you, didn't I?? You thought it was Bruce.... jejejeje)... what is a lovely lady as yourself doing in a place like this?"

Barbara looks to me, then behind me, to Clark, and raises an eyebrow. Clearly she hasn't forgotten our little misfortunate encounter at Wayne Manor, and just how it ruined her high hopes of becoming Mrs. Wayne. Nodding her head to the bar, she walks away to it. After a second's hesitation I follow, Clark in tow, knowing it'd be far worst if I didn't follow the girl. Upon getting ourselves some drinks, she answers my question.

"I am saving the male population of the place from falling into your charms" Behind me, I can hear Clark choke on his drink. I had never fully told him I am particularily interested in men at all. He must of imagined it sometimes, and I know he's been dying to ask me, but he has never asked me outright, and as a punishment to not having backbone, I've just let him stay in the dark in the matter so far. Thank you, Barbara, for so gracefully spoiling my surprise.

"Male population??" We hear Clark doubtfully ask. Not able to help myself, a small smile reaches my face. It's so unbelievable just how naive Clark can be sometimes... Still smiling, my gaze finds his.

"Clark... I'm interested in men" Clark gives me the 'are you kidding me face?' in not so very much sarcastic way.

"And you were planning to mention it, when??" He asks, crossing his arms over his chest, making his pectorals looking just a tad bigger.

"I haven't mention it?"

"Don't play stupid, Lex, it doesn't suit you. You know you haven't told me!" Is that iritation I hear in his voice? I come to find myself shocked, recognizing the anger flickering in those green eyes, such an alien expression on Clark's face, a strange ring to his voice. Because of me keeping this?? Why?? Suddenly, studying Clark's face, the question moves into a lower plane, and I focus on the intensity in which Clark shows his emotions on his face.

It's all passoin there, the emotions swirling in those green pools, dancing around each other, deep and hypnotic. I can't deny I feel drawn to it, wanting to taste and feel that passion. Own it, be a part of it, and lost myself in it. Even mad, Clark is just astounding.

"This is not the time, nor the place, to discuss my preferences, Clark" I say, with a hint of underlining in my voice, and he quickly catches on the female silently listening to our conversation.

"We WILL talk about this" he hisses, through gritted teeth, feeling he should have the last word in the matter. This time, I find myself willing to oblige his wishes, and confort myself with watching him taking an angry dip at his cocktail. I reluctantly push Clark out of my mind for a second, turning to the third wheel in the night, the pebble in my shoes at the time.

"Is there an specific reason, Ms. Gordon, as to why you'd rip my friend and I from the dancefloor, or is this just a way of showing your constant annoyance at me having a particularily good time?" I try to make my voice sound as cold and detached as possible, Barbara and I are long past social pretences.

"Bruce, the shameless bastard, wants to see you. He's in the VIP area" She says, and I can actually hear the growl in her voice. Seems Bruce has yet to take back a few things he told her back when she found us doing some very unholy things on the living room's floor at Wayne Manor... who would ever thought Russian carpet could be so good for a great fuck? I've never had any other carpeting in any of my propities.

Anyways, back to the point, I do love an honest man, and Bruce can be brutally honest whenever he wishes, that time being a perfect example of it, the look on Barbara's face as Bruce ruthlessly destroyed her romantic ilussion is ever imprinted in my mind. I can't help the smile from reaching my face.

"And he sent his ever faithful maiden to fetch me, the dirty little secret" Her eyebrows draw near the other, mouth a deeper frown, and blue eyes radiate anger and locked frustration, fists clenched, and I know she's just waiting for me to throw the next well-aimed insult. I've never been one to being fond of dissapointing a beautiful woman. "This is rather dissapointing, Barbara. You're far beyond the borders of disrespectful masochism"

Calmly, I nurse my whiskey some, thinking of the picture the three of us are making: Clark, a shocked look on his face, transfixed at the classy heated debate he's witnessing, obviously dying to stop himself from asking every detail of my history with Barbara and Wayne; Barbara, looking like a predator, ready to attack at any given moment; and I, looking as if I was having a fiendly meeting, and not bothering to insult and old foe.

"What does Mr. What's-his-name wants, anyways??" Clark brakes the silence, undoutbly thinking a change of topic would lighten the mood some.

"Your ... 'friend'.... most likely" Barbara coldly answers, getting a short 'Oh' from Clark. He looks away, focusing his look on his drink, and seems to be absorbing everything which had been said so far, pulling the pieces he's got together.

"Little messenger, you can tell him I'm busy. I have more than enough company, and less than enough desire to have another... encounter with him at the moment" Clark drops his glass, which shatters to the floor, his mouth hanging open in the most prefect, pink 'O' I have ever seen, I'm sure he's got the big picture of the situation now... and though Barbara's face displays shock, it also shows a lot of anger. "There's a latin saying that goes a little something like this: 'Some people's garbage could very well be other's most wanted treasure'... Wonder if they made that saying thinking of you, Ms. Gordon?"

The resounding slap hitting my left cheek was heard over the music, and drew half the population's attention towards us. Damn, this woman hits like a man!! I can actually feel my cheek stinging!! Ah.. it feels so good to make wood of the fallen tree, specially if is one unsufferable little brat of a tree.

"I hope there's a suitable explanation for such display, Barbara" Like a god damn ghost, Bruce is suddenly standing behind the girl.

"Bruce!! I..."

"We were remembering old days, Bruce. I'm sad to say Barbara's hook has gotten anything but softer" Amusingly, Barbara angers even more at the comment. She would surely flip if she would see the smile decorating Bruce's face at my words.

"I could say the same thing about your tongue" Bruce comments, and I can actually feel his gaze striping me naked. "If I got a lash of it, of course" I smile. Clark chokes. Barbara grits her teeth. I stop the urge to bite my own tongue, I might need it in the near future.

"When you choose to... become yourself and find your place, Bruce, you know where to find me" And she left, unheld and discarded by us all.

Still with that sultry, sexy smile of his, Bruce takes Barbara's vacant seat, while I calculate the quickest way to get rid of the pest. I came here to have a nice, hot time with Clark, not to relive ancient history with this pompous billonaire.

"It's nice to see you again, Lex. What brings you to Gotham City??"

"Culture. I'm introducing a friend to the finest of the city" To my side, Clark waves shily, a pink blush decorating his face. On my front, Bruce finally takes notice of the fact that I'm accompained, therefor, he's not wanted here, but the subtly darker shade of blue his eyes turn to make ME realize I just got myself some serious competetion. Well, I'll be damned if I ever let Bruce get a hold of my Clark.

"I'm sorry. I believe I hadn't see you. I'm Bruce Wayne" He extends a hand, smiling confidently, giving Clark and his sex God looks the once over. After a moment, Clark hesitantly takes the offered hand.

"Clark Kent. The culture in learning friend." He says, looking at me doubtfully for a moment, as if asking himself what type of people I'm getting together with.

"Bruce is the owner of Wayne enterprises, Clark, one of the most powerful technology manufactures... among other things" I don't mean to enlength the conversation, but I just can't take Clark doubting me or the people I meet no more.

"You give me too much credit, Lex... I'm not that--"

"Oh... THAT Wayne?!??!"

Who would've thought a farm boy from Smallville could be so interested in technology, or have an above average knowledge of it, for that matter... all I know is that for the next hour or so, I was forcebly obliged into a conversation with one bachelor Bruce Wayne, and one golden god, Clark Kent. I thought business meeting were enraging, but watching Bruce's quick approaches and sly smiles, his eyes shining with lust, while Clark slowly falls and reacts quite positively to them is quite maddening as well.

"You really bought the ENTIRE hotel?!?!?" Yeah, yeah.... everybody knows that story, the girls went a little wild and wanted to take a bath, and Bruce bought the hotel so they wouldn't be bothered. It's not that big of a deal, I could buy ten thousand hotels, and still have a fortune to spend. And really, is Clark fucking flirting with the guy??? Wasn't he supposed to be straight as a board?! The fuck's going on here, everyone's gone crazy all the sudden??

"It's the finer side of owning a multibillion dollar company" Bruce speaks with such charms... really, it's like his voice its a caress, meant to draw you to him, and lose yourself in it indefenitely. I should know, he got me wrapped around it while in Excelsior, and three years after graduation, now it just seems like fingernails against a blackboard, specially when Clark seems to be so stupidly entranced by it. "You get to do pretty much whatever the hell you want with it, and get away with it... even if some of us are not that wild and careless, as others... don't you think so, Lex??"

I know Bruce meant that as an insult, but right now, I'm taking not being like him, an impolite and terribly untiming nuisance, as a compliment. "Not all of us have such great voids to fill such as yourself, Bruce"

Like a flash, Bruce's face goes cold and stony, and I hear Clark gasp beside me. I know he is aware of how Bruce's parents died when he was a child.

"That was low, Lex... too low. Even for a Luthor" Surprisingly, this came from Clark, whose dissapointed frown froze me on the stop. Great, now I'm the bad guy of the story, and Bruce, the little pest, is the victim. The world is loco, loco.

"It's alright, I'm all well accustomed to Lex's low approaches" Clark offers Bruce a weak smile, obviously completely missing the hint in those words, and sends a small glare to me, then brakes into another string of conversation with Bruce. Next to Clark, I try not to scowl... or growl... too much.


"If you'll escuse me, I'd like to dance with my friend" I say, with as much charm as I can master, which a highly amount, considering how far from charming I feel right now. But let's face it, it's not easy to be unwillingly shoved into a conversation for over an hour and a half, when all you want to do is grab one of the spokers by his thick ebony hair and screw him senseless into the nearest dark corner.

For a moment, Clark looks a little shocked, looking at me as if he had completely forgotten I was actually there, which is understandable, since I haven't said anything in over half an hour. Then he seems to pull himself together, ending up looking just a tad disturbed.

"Lex... we got company. That would be rude" his voice is almost a whisper, but I hear it, just watching those pink lips, dying to find out if they're as sweet as they look like.

"You're not a host, Clark, if we had to choose one, that would be Bruce, and leaving the host so the guest would have a dance wouldn't make it--"

"Come with us, Bruce??" Bruce smiles lecherously at Clark.

"Of course. I love that song"

I'M GONNA KILL THAT LITTLE SHIT!!!!!! The moment I fly my ass out of Gotham City, Bruce Wayne is DEAD!!!

On the dancefloor, Bruce preditacbly comes between Clark and I, doing his best to get us both as close to him a possible, yet without actually letting us get closer to the other.

Unlike our last time dancing, Clark does a lot of body grinding.... just not with me. Whatever possessed me to ever come choose this city for Clark's little experiment, I will never know, but I do know this: when I find out what drove me here, I'll never listen to it again. This was the worst idea I have ever come up with, and I have come up with some really shitty ideas over the years.

The three of us have formed somewhat of a triangle, me being the apix of it, Clark and Bruce forming the base. we move together, and for anyone watching, it would be three guys having fun, but it is really a battle field:

Bruce catches one of Clark's hand in his, looks over at me for the briefest of seconds, and pulls hims close, to dance really tight to him, moving his body sensually over Clark's, who shyly answers to his advances. And Bruce's blue eyes are watching me all the way, daring me to meet him in the battlefield, to put up a counterattack, and get Clark's attention to me.

Not being one to ever back down on a challenge, I make my move, and move my arm over Clark's broad shoulders, sling over behind him, his firm ass making a delicious contact with my crotch. I take his hips in my hands, and seize the rapid rythm they were going at, to a slow swaying, and I can feel Clark's shock radiating off him, his tense shoulders, the rapid breathing... a soft, lip-matching blush decorating his cheeks. To mask my moves smoothly, my mouth comes dangerously close to his ear, far enough to be unoffesively secretive, but close enough to be sinfully provocative, for him to feel, more than hear my words, to move his soft hair, to make his skin prickle with my breath.

"I'm leaving, Clark." He quickly turns to me, eyes wide and shocked, a perfect epitome of confusion, and our mouths are left less than and inch away, I can feel his breath mingling with mine, urging me closer, to close that unyeilding distance between us, to not resist the temptation to just devour his lips right there and then, infront of a sure to be peeved Bruce Wayne. Proceeding with the plan, I resume my position infront of my golden god's ears, still whispering to him in a silky, soft voice.

"Here... is a copy of the keys to my place in Gotham City." My right hand loses hold of his hip, to go skimming down his pants, to his right pockets, and I release said metal there, but my hand doesn't move from his pocket. I know how mouch it must be affecting him, to have my hand there, so close to his cock. Hell, I know just how its affecting me, I don't want to move my hand back at all, but I must stick to the plan. "Bruce knows where it is. I see you've found a true expert to give you culture classes"

"But, Lex--" His voice is low and shaky, as if too focused on something else to get his thoughts right.

"I've never been one to remain in a place I know I'm not required to be. And I know you would perhaps like to know your latest friend some more... Have fun, Clark. Do try not to inhibit yourself, I'm not any of your parents, remember??"

And just as swift as I came close, I went away, leaving a shocked Clark behind, in the claws of one Bruce Wayne. I coud hear Clark's voice from afar, and smiled. The plane was working. What better way to make Clark notice me than letting him know he wasn't noticing me. It was only a matter of time before he followed me to my place.


WHERE THE FUCK IS HE??!?!?!??!?! I've been here for a whole hour, and he still hasn't come up......................................... Just kidding, it's only been fifteen minutes and Clark's already entering the room.

"What happened back there?!" He inmediately yells, watching me nurse my whiskey calmly.

"I told you... I wanted you to have a--"

"Don't lie to me, Lex. Please, not again!" I stand in silence, considering what to say next, when it comes to the me lying to Clark business, whether it's an innocent lie or not, I must always be extra careful of what I say. "I know you were jealous, Lex."

Did he, now?? then, what the hell did he ever kept flirting around with Bruce for?? He knows I'm jealous, I could bet my bald head on the fact that he has absolutely no idea as to what's really going on in my head.

"I mean, there's a history going on between the two of you, and you broke up, apparently."

Alright, maybe he does has some ideas.

"Apparently, he was a jerk, and you left him wanting for more"

He's got the string, sort of... wonder when Clark became so perceptive?? Must have been for hanging around miss Sullivan for so long.

"Then you meet today, and he's all charming to you, and it naturally bothered you, cause you and him are history"

Got that right. Wonder if he's already seen the way I look at him, how I'm constantly stripping him off his clothes with my eyes. Being so insightful, he propably has.

"Then the guy starts hitting on me, and it all sort of, it all sort of flowed back to you"

What??

"I mean, really it's normal to feel jealous, but he was clearly trying to get to you... he even told me to help him, but you were supposed to get all 'Bruce is mine, get away from him' instead of running away like that"

Forget everything I've said. Clark, is an idiot.

"You really think I'm jealous of you?? for flirting with Bruce?!" I let out a rash breath, caught between laughing and seething in anger. This is so fucking bizarre, really. "In a scale of one to ten in deduction skills, Clark, you get a minus five"

Clark looks at me for several moments, clearly debating between defending his points or yelling some sense into me, but when he talks, he does the one thing I never expected him to do at the moment: he searched for reasoning. Going to a nearby sofa, he sat down, and started questioning me.

"So, let's say you left for the reasons you said you would. What do you think I could possibly with a guy I barely know in an unknown city, Lex, really??" I could come up with a thousand different answers to that, non of which I like, and hundreds of reasons behind each answer, but I don't think any of those would be of Clark's liking, so I pick out the one that would anger him the least.

"Exaclty what I said.. have some fun" There, simple, ambiguos, and straight to the point. The perfect little white lie.

"Have?-- with?-" There's the stuttering again. I have to admit, he does look quite cute while stuttering, maybe I'll let the nasty habit linger more. But I won't let Clark live it down peacefully.

"I admire your eloquence, Clark, it's very refreshing" His answer, is a glare. Silence reigns for over a minute, and I take my mind in looking out to the city, the center of it raising as Wayne Tower.

"I can't believe you left me alone with Bruce" Clark gruffly says.

"I can't believe you actually agreed on Bruce's reckless plan to get me jealous" I retort, not taking my eyes off the city.

"I had to promise him he'd give me a tour of the city tomorrow to get rid of him and leave me for the night." Thank God my back's turned to Clark, for otherwise, he'd see the anger seeping out of me.

"I can see your reflection on the window, Lex."

Damn it.

"You see?? Everytime I mention Bruce, you get the exact way you do whenever Lionel gets to pull a stunt on you" It is a rather similar feeling, now that he mentions it.

"Bruce and I are not in our best terms any more"

"I can tell. Want to tell me why??" Cause he has spent the last four hours of his life shamelesly hitting on you and you were perfectly responding to it.

"I think you got part of it covered on the right half of your speculations" I tightly say.

"So you two actually had something??"

"For a while" Through the reflection on the crystal door to my balcony, I can see Clark get more comfortable on the sofa, now fully resting his chest on the back of it.

"And he hurt you??" I grit my teeth, and stop the urge to bite my tongue... I wasn't ready for such a heart to heart conversation with Clark. Discussing past liasions is something I'm not very fond of.

"Not exactly. We had..." I stop, more for a drama moment than for looking for words to say. "different visions of the future of our relationship"

"I'm sure you knew Bruce has the reputation of a shameless bachelor, Lex, it wouldn't be you to have any hopes of rectifying his Casanova reputation" I chuckle, amused by Clark's innocent assumptions, and for the first time since the conversation began, I turn just enough to meet his green gaze, his golden face and soft looking pink lips illumiated by the city's lights.

"You're right. It wouldn't be me to do that" I say, with a smirk set on my face. Clark seems to catch up on my meaning quickly.

"Oh... So you left him?"

"After making sure he was properly accompained. Abandoned doesn't neceseraly mean lonely and suicidal" He arches a perfect, black eyebrow at me, a perfect mirror at my own expression of disbelief. He's getting together with me far too much lately, not that I'm complaining, but seing Clark making a perfect imitation of my expresssions is quite troublesome.

"And hooking him up with someone else would make your abandonment less repochable??"

Of course, specially when Bruce didn't know I had planned to hook him up with the guy, and was fully expecting him to be at Wayne Manor doing naughty things with Bruce when I visited him, to create a drama worthy of an Academy Award.

"He never did knew I hooked him up, so the thing you saw tonight is probably his guilt drilling its way into that thick skull of his."

"Why haven't you ever todl me you're gay??" He suddenly asks, well, not suddenly, I knew he's been dying to ask since before leaving the club, but the sudden change of topic was certainly a surprise.

I purse my lips, thinking on how to place the answer as nonchanantly as possible, while pulling a few strings inside Clark, maybe peek his curiosity some more.

"I'm not homosexual, Clark, I... appreciate both sexes. Discreetly appreciated, of course, so much not even some of the most intriguing persons I've desired have never even noticed" I calmly say, a soft smirk settled on my face, and look at the young man sitting on my sofa an intense look, one I know he acknowledges, by the way his coloring turns the shade of a pretty pink. Good, Clark's catching up on my double meanings, making it so much easier to leave him either high confused, should my feelings not be returned, or utterly ravaged, should they be responded.

"Why haven't you told me you were willing to play flirting games with another man??" Clark's pink cheeks turns into a nearly beet red face.

"Well, I... It's just that..."

"Are you gay, Clark?? Or a both sexes lover??"

"I'm not bi, Lex" he almsot snaps, as if insulted by the question, but unknowingly answering it.

"What about miss Lang??" Another look of annoyance from Clark, as he figures out he has just fallen into the trap.

"Space goat"

"Ah. How did--"

"How long have you known you're ga-- bi??" Clark suddenly feels like he should have the control of the conversation once more, and I can only comply.

"Ever since Jeremy Finley gave me one of the best blowjobs in my life" If I had a cammara... Clark's face is so... perfect. The widened eyes, how his face pales in shock, his mouth shaping a small O so perfectly, eyebrows lightly raised, nearly lost under his thick mop of ebony hair. Everything about him is perfect. So very much expresive it makes me want to see the reflections of all his deepest emotions played out for me. "You did asked, Clark.

"Well, you didn't need to be THAT graphic!! Now I got pictures of you and whoever doing naughty things in your room in high school"

"It was in the showers, actually. Just got out of Gym class. We were wrestling partners that day, and--"

"Stop!! God, didn't I tell you I didn't--" he suddenly stops his rantigs, fidgeting unconfortably on the sofa, his eyes looking to one side of the room irriatatedly, as if scared to meet mine, afraid to confirm my suppositions that he is jealous of Jeremy and his wondreful mouth. "I don't need to know your past affairs, Lex, Bruce trying to grope you all night long infront of me is more than enough, thank you!!"

I chuckle, suppresing the purr from scaping. How very insteresting change of events. I let the silence linger, the words sink into Clark's beautiful head, and sit on the ottoman next to sofa Clark was currently sitting on, making sure that know-it-all look Clark has mentioned to dislike is firmly set on my face.

"Are you jealous, Clark??" I ask, and Clark's eyes quickly move to mine, surprised. "Of a meaningless teenage adventure, of an ancient liasion I'd rather not think of--"

"Of any other bastard that's ever dared to touch you and you let him get away with it, of everyone who unlike me has had the gust to tell you how hot you are, of the guy whom introduce you to the gay world, the one that woke your homosexual appetite, of the guy whom you had to run away from, cause you came too damn attached; hell, right now, I'm jealous of that stupid ottoman that's closer to your butt than I have ever really been"

Fuck.

I open my mouth, and find it full of Clark's. It takes only a moment, but I catch up on the fact that this are Clark's lips pressing to mine, his hand on the back of my head, his breath on my face, his tongue seeking an almosy shy entrance to my mouth... this is constant nights of wet, wonderful dreams coming true. For once, I'm glad I'm awake.

I feel as though I had moved back in time, to the sofa in my study, with Clark's hands around me, that fresh, musky scent surrounding me, the warmth... this time, ten times more powrful than the last, pushing all the right buttons, sending wave after wave of extasis from the sole knowledge that this is not a dream at all.

For the first time, I get a taste at the man that's been occupaying my head for so long, and his mouth is soft and loving against mine, and when I find my way into his moist cavern, taking control of the tentative kiss, a slow, yet passionate courting dance is performed by his tongue, moving around mine, beckoning me with a hinted innocence underlined by passion.

He brakes the kiss, to what porpose, I don´t know, but as I feel his tongue lining my mouth I don't really care about it, I just care about Clark, Clark touchin me, his slick tongue caressing my upper lips, the ligh moan that scaped him as his tongue met the scarred part of it, his hands going up my arms, to my neck, his knees on each side of my hips, straddling me, his tights tightening ever so responsively as I moved my hands up, until reaching his hips... Just Clark, being there with me, kissing and touching me, turning endless nights of need into blinding realities.

Our lips meet again, and this time all the accumulated desire surges forward, his arms tighten around my neck, and mine around his waist, my left hand going down, to cup one round buttcheek, and squeeze it, tasting the sweet moan within our heated kiss.

He presses his body to mine, his tongue in my mouth, moving around mine, calling it out to play. I respond to the call, touching the underside of the slick muscle, and moving against it teasingly, languidly, not following the demanding pace of Clark.

Slowly, he moves his body down, and I can feel his tight buttcheeks resting on my thighs, part of it causing delightful friction with my raising cock, getting a soft hiss out of me, my hands tighten around his hips, and I move his lower body lower, closer to me, grinding our nether regions together through our clothes.

"Lex..." My moaned name brakes the kiss, and I have never thought my name could be so damn sexy, could sound so decadent as it did when Clark moaned it out, low and husky, lost among a demand, a plea and a prayer.

He grinds against me, following the rythm my hands have set, and I feel him grow next to me, his concealed cock growing longer and harder along with mine, his hands going tighter on my shoulders, his moans falling like white drops of pleasure from his mouth, like a fountain spilling an overdrive of emotions.

"So long, Lex... I've wanted this.. for so long" I feel, more than hear him say, his mouth is close to my right ear, and while his voice only tickles my ear, the words travel all around my body, shooting doses of red passion as they go.

"I've dreamed of you... almost every night. God, Lex!" A thrust a bit too harsh, senses screaming, I can smell the sweat gathering on our bodies, smell the saltiness of it, and bask in it, want it even, for I wouldn't have Clark any other way that wouldn't be hot and steamy. Unexpectedly, his hand finds my cock, I groan at the rightness of his hand around me, stroking it slowly, his fingers tight around.

"When you came to say goodbye at the club, I knew you wanted me. I knew it, cause you were jealous, wanted to get me away from Bruce" Fuck, how the hell can this boy think so much right now?? Well, his cock is not wrapped in a vice like grip, so the flow of blood to his brain must be much better than mine. "When you came so close, I wanted to kiss you, to make you go crazy right there, I wanted you to fuck me, Lex..." He whined the last few words out, and I moaned in response, those dirty words coming from sweet, innocent Clark were stronger than I could ever dream of, hotter than anything I had ever lived through.

"I was hard for you, Lex..." His hand still moves, slowly, enough to keep me hard as rock, but not enough to let me move on the peak, not enough to find some fucking release.

"You make me hard just by talking to me" The feeling is mutual, even without the stroking and the grinding, I'd still be hard by just listening to him say how hard I can get him. "When you look at me so hungrily, ready to davour me... I wanted you to do it all, Lex, all you've dreamed of doing to me, right there, in the middle of Amnesia, just like the couple we saw"

His speech stops, and I feel his tongue run along the outside of my ear, and he nibbles my earlobe, and the neck close by, making my moan in appreciation. In a swift motion, I move my hand from his hips to his crotch, to stroke his raging erection, even if through his clothes... for now.

"I'll do it all, Clark. I swear, I'll fuck you until you can't take it anymore" I whisper back, biting on his neck, and returning the favour of licking his earlobe, feeling him whimper against my cheek. Seems Clark's got a sensitive neck. Nice.

"Yes... that's all I want. What I wanted..." suddenly, he stops moving, and moves his hand and head all together, he's still straddling me, but just not touching me. With a slap, my hand is ripped from his hard on. "Then you left."

Shocked as I was, he was too quick for me to stop, so the next thing I knew, my dream come true was standing infront of me, a unforgivingly teasing look set upon his face. Just then, he smirks.

"Now you know how I feel" And he makes his way to one of the empty rooms of the place. Like a flash, I get up, and intercep him in the way to his room.

"Wait, so everything you said--"

"Completely true, Lex. I do want you, so much" his voice is low, but clear, with the strength of conviction lacing behind. "I'll probably have to jerk off to you tonight to get this off" He says, pointing at his direction, and both the words and the image overwhelm me for a second. "But I really don't want to be yours until you can claim in a way different to plotting and scheming"

Then, as if he had just said 'good night', he kisses me, soft and sweet.

"Surely, you understand--"

"I've been dying for this moment for YEARS, Lex. I won't have it any less than flawlessly honest" and he shots the door right at my face, leaving me, in every sense of the word, hanging.

I'll be damned. He left me hanging!! Me, who's supposed to be the expert here!! The master of situations, the ultimate wise guy, the plotter was beating by a young man whose most likely to be nothing more than a great tease of a virgin.

These are the things. These are the little, but complicated things that make me crave for him, that make me want to unravel each and everyone of Clark's aspects, know everything about him, how unpredictable he can be, how he can get to me in ways no one else can, the way he can get away with things I'd let no one else get away with, just the way I let him walk out on me tonight, for if he had been someone else, we'd be sure to be screwing each other into oblivion by now.

Fuck, but I love that boy.

I love him.

Dear god, I love Clark Kent. Every bit of him, every gesture, word, emotion, quality, flaw, every moment I spend with him... Hell, I even love the twisted complications he brings into my life, how he can make me debate between who I'm supposed to be and who he wants me to be, the person I want to become, just to be with him, to feel those lips agian, be the unshakeable focus of those green pools, the reason of the white, perfect smile, the receiver of every loving word coming out of his lips.

God, I can't believe I didn't see it coming!! Love. I love him. And unlike Bruce, I can't run away from him, for he's got me so trapped I don't even know where the rope ends or begins, and I can't just suppress it until it goes away, like I've done so many times, because not even when I though I only wanted him I could supress the feeling, let alone now I know its love.

Not exactly knowing how, I end up in my room, alone, with Clark on the next room, and the image of Clark Kent doing what he said he'd probably do -jerk off to me- completely innailate the 'Luthors don't love' speech I got from Lionel so long ago, the one which has know become nothing but a shadow behind the mighty, potent figure of Clark Kent.