On the Road to Gotham

Clark went home Sunday. He’d spent the week agonizing over his meeting with Whitney, questioning what he could have said to get through to the disillusioned police detective. From the moment he’d laid eyes on Whitney, however, all of his pre-planned arguments had dissolved into air. He’d expected an older looking version of the jock who had tormented him in school. Not the man he saw, pared down to his basic elements. The lean angles of his form were clean of any unnecessary padding, the wary and somewhat wild look in his eyes hinting the same purging had been done internally as well. He had brought to mind pictures Clark had seen of wolves in the Alaskan tundra and he knew at that moment why Lex had chosen Whitney. Lex had always been attracted to wild things.

The few hours they’d spent in the coffee house had compressed to minutes, passing too quickly for Clark. It seemed in his time away from Smallville Whitney had grown up, ensnaring the younger man with his easy humor and calming patience. Oh, he’d seen the temper was still there when the blond had flatly refused to discuss Lex, but there’d been no sign of the expected explosion. Even worried as he was, he’d enjoyed himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d sat down across from a handsome man and not wondered when propriety would allow him to leave. None of his dates had managed to stimulate both his intellect and his libido, but Whitney had succeeded easily. How ironic then, that Whitney was the lover of the last man to capture his interest.

Somehow, he had to convince Whitney of the danger he was in. Before arranging his meeting with the blond he’d used his press resources to do a little research. From what he’d managed to dig up, Whitney was an honest cop, his file already marked with several commendations. It didn’t make sense that such an accomplished detective couldn’t see through Lex Luthor’s lies, but Clark knew just how charming and manipulative Lex could be. He’d disillusioned Clark for years and he’d had the support and sage advice of family and friends cautioning against trusting Lex. He hadn’t listened then, so why should Whitney listen now?

At a loss how to proceed further Clark went where he always did when he needed help. Over meatloaf and stuffing the young superhero told his parents of Lex’s latest conquest and his failed intervention. His father’s expression grew stony at the mention of Lex’s name, but Jonathan Kent had never liked the young Luthor. Martha just ‘tsked' softly and reached the distance of the table to clasp Clark’s hand. His mother had stayed silent about Lex’s betrayal all those years ago, letting her husband’s anger speak for the both of them. It had puzzled Clark then, as it did now, but he hoped she would give him her wisdom in this.

“I don’t know what to do, Mom!” Clark cried. “I know Lex is just using Whitney, but I can’t convince him of that. Whitney may have gotten a personality, but he’s still just as stubborn.”

“Some people have to learn by themselves, baby. That would certainly be true of the Whitney Fordham I remember. He’s kept himself very isolated in Gotham, and now you show up out of the blue and tell him to dump his boyfriend on your say so? Considering you were never really close, why should he take the word of someone he hasn’t seen in years over the actions of his boyfriend? You may know Lex is . . . oftentimes mislead, but Whitney can only judge by how Lex treats him.”

“Maybe Superman can talk to him?” Jonathan suggested. “He might respond better to someone he could consider an impartial third party.”

“I have to try something,” Clark moaned, stabbing at his meatloaf. “Whitney deserves better than to be used by Lex.”

Across the table Clark’s parents exchanged worried looks. Just how impartial was their son’s interest in Whitney’s love life?

SSs
That Friday, after returning to his apartment from a tedious double shift, Whitney unlocked his door to find Lex throwing away expired food from his sparsely stocked refrigerator. “Hey, that food is still good!” Slamming the door, he looked around to realize his anal lover must have spent some time in his apartment. Everything was arranged, neat and stacked, and he was fairly certain Lex hadn’t vacuumed for the sole reason Whitney didn’t own the appliance.

Straightening from the interior of his unlighted fridge Lex shook a jar of mayonnaise and arched an eyebrow when a distinct clunking noise was heard. “Don’t tell me, you hide ammunition in here?”

Stalking over, Whitney snatched away the jar. “No, I don’t, but one old jar doesn’t mean you can clean me out! Food’s expensive, Lex!”

“I think your pickle jar gave birth. And the pizza box I found beneath the colony of Chinese take out squeaked at me.” Seeing Whitney’s thunderous expression wasn’t abating, the older man changed tactics. Stepping away from the decrepit puce colored appliance he slipped an arm about his lover’s notably thin waist and eased the jar of mayonnaise from his hand. He dropped it into the overflowing kitchen trashcan he’d found earlier beneath the sink with a satisfying clinking of glass and then drew the blond into a kiss. The detective came reluctantly, but gradually relaxed and opened to Lex’s probing tongue. A long, leisurely kiss that steered them from the kitchen into Whitney’s miniscule living room and down onto his battered second hand couch.

Whitney opened his eyes when Lex pulled away, looking up at the man leaning over him with a tired blinking of thick lashes. A finger stroked down his cheek and he twisted away, burying his face in the corner of the couch. Lying down had been a mistake, the stress of the last couple of days sweeping him under.

“Whitney? I apologize if my poking about your apartment upset you. Considering how long we’ve been together, I was curious why I had never been invited in.”

“Because I live in a dump,” Whitney mumbled into the slightly musky smelling brocade.

“Yes, you do,” Lex happily agreed. “Why is that, anyway? I would think a detective’s salary would afford slightly better accommodations.”

“This rat hole costs me three thousand a month. Neighborhood’s good, but there’s no point wasting money on nice stuff when you can’t afford renter’s insurance. Haven’t had a break-in in over two years, but the place had been trashed. I get by, Lex, and this place is pretty nice in space.”

“Three thousand? And where does the rest go? Maybe I should have Martin start delivering you meals.” His butler for the Gotham apartment he’d acquired would be horrified to see the state of ‘Master’ Whitney’s living conditions. By God, all his staff seemed to worship his lover, not that he could criticize them. Whitney was most assuredly deserving of all the lavish attention they subjected him to.

“I’m not starving, Lex!” The detective wiggled about to glare up at him. “I sleep here, okay? There’s heat in the winter and air conditioning in the summer, and that’s all I need, a comfortable place to sleep. I can’t cook for shit, so I get most of my meals during shift or on my way home from Stavos. You want to interrogate Maria, make sure she’s covering the four basics?”

Silly question, of course he wanted to make sure this Maria was feeding his boy right, but he wisely said nothing. With kisses and apologizing words he quieted his lover, watching his anger subside and exhaustion creep back in. “Shhh, I’m sure Maria is an accomplished chef. I just worry. By your schedule you were supposed to be home hours ago.”

“I pulled a double shift to get Monday off.” Meridian blue eyes gazed up at him through blond lashes. “I didn’t think to ask if you could get away Monday.”

“I think I can accomplish that, my own,” Lex reassured. It would probably take him most of the weekend to broach the subject of Clark Kent paying his lover a visit, leaving him the added day to exercise damage control. First order of business, however, was to get his lover down to the car before he fell asleep on him. “Whitney, let’s get up and downstairs, shall we? We’ll start off the weekend with a nice, long hot soak and I’ll see about massaging out some of that stress.”

Whitney groaned, but levered himself up. It took minutes to lock up his apartment, there being no need to collect toiletries or clothing for the weekend since he kept enough of that stuff at Lex’s various residences. Downstairs a discreet black SUV was waiting for them, Lex ushering Whitney ahead of him into the back seat. The driver needed no directions and pulled away from the curb as soon as the door closed. Descending the privacy window with a button press, Lex drew his lover into his arms and watched him fall easily into sleep.

When they arrived at the screened back entrance to his townhouse Whitney was deeply asleep, but started to stir as one of the security personnel stepped forward to scoop him up. Lex’s voice and touch settled him, however, and the guard turned to carry him up the stairs. Following behind, instinct prompted Lex to glance to the surrounding rooftops. The caped figure was barely discernible against the night sky, but the bald man recognized him nonetheless and suspiciously wondered who his interest was in.

***
Saturday afternoon. Tossing aside his towel, Whitney shimmied into a tight pair of faded blue jeans and a long sleeved green shirt, foregoing socks and shoes until he knew if Lex had any plans for the evening. His ass was sending a pleasant, well-fucked ache through his whole body and he hoped whatever they were doing, it didn’t require long hours of sitting. They’d spent the day playing around the apartment, Lex threatening him with cucumbers but settling on a violet dildo with an overlarge mushroom head. Sex toys were relatively new for Whitney, but he’d enjoyed the sensation of being filled and fucked while he sucked Lex off. His older lover had been liberal with the lube and while Lex was always attentive to cleaning them of various fluids, he’d still felt the sticky need for a shower.

Padding out of the bedroom he took himself downstairs, following the sounds of CNN into the den. Lex was curled into one corner of a couch, attention on the goings on in Russia, but he held out a hand for the blond to join him. Accepting the invitation he settled into his lover’s side, snuggling until he’d comfortably fitted their contours together. Lex carded his damp hair and Whitney hummed, burying his face into the warm softness of Lex’s sweater.

After a while the program went off and Lex shifted about until his back was to the armrest and Whitney was stretched out in the cradle of his legs. Those fingers were back to playing with his hair again but the blond paid no mind occupied as he was with tracing a swirl in the pattern of Lex’s top.

“Do you want to eat out tonight?” Lex asked.

“If it involves moving from this spot, then no.”

The answering chuckle made his headrest shake so he poked at it. “Suggestions then?”

Whitney closed his eyes. “Tell me about you and Clark Kent.”

Odd how even the TV seemed to silence as Lex went still beneath him. Or maybe it was just the blood rushing through his head. The petting hand stilled for a long moment, then resumed its stroking, prelude to his lover’s emotionally tight voice. “I thought we agreed not to discuss my past relationships.”

Unable to do this without seeing his lover’s eyes, Whitney drew himself to his knees, leaning against the leg Lex had pressed to the back of the couch. Cool grey eyes watched him, wary and slightly hurt, and the blond cursed his inability to do subtle. “None of your other lovers staged a run in and then tried to warn me of the Big Bad Luthor. Does he do that with all your fuck buddies?”

In a show of angered grace, Lex’s foot hanging off the side of the couch arched up to thwap him in the back of the head, hard enough that he accidentally bit his tongue. “First of all, if I ever hear you refer to yourself by that term again I will wash your mouth out with soap after I use said soap to clean out your ass. Secondly, things between myself and Clark are difficult, mainly because Clark is a very special person.”

“Is that how we’re going to refer to him being Superman in this house?” Lex’s jaw dropped. It wasn’t often he was able to surprise his jaded lover, but he treasured the times he did.

Lex recovered quickly, however. “How long have you known?”

The detective shrugged. “Since the first time he did an interview? The guy’s bulked out, sure, but he still looks the same. Does no one really get that?”

“You’d be surprised,” came the dry response. “Yes, Clark is Superman. We broke up before he finished college. Certainly before he donned that horrendous costume.”

“Who broke it off?”

“I did. It is difficult to explain, but my vision of what Clark could do with his powers did not coincide with his fantasies of heroism. In his black and white world good battles evil and ultimately wins. Of course, it was one thing to talk about it over Sunday breakfast. To realize the dream of Superman, Clark needed a villain to battle, and quite honestly, the prospects at the time were slim.”

“So you . . .”

“The world needed Superman, not just the hero who saves the village of inbred goat herders from the monthly exploding volcano, but the idealism he represents. Truth, justice, and the country farm boy way.”

“You love him,” Whitney realized with a small pain.

“Do I still? Yes, I imagine a part of me does and always will. Does a part of you still love Lana Lang? Even if not the girl, the memories of happier times?” Lex sat up then, caging Whitney with his body as he leaned in for a gentle, chaste kiss. “I think it’s okay to still love others so long as you are not in love with them. Did that make sense?” At the blond’s cautious nod he smiled and stroked his cheek. “Even if Clark could have become Superman and stayed with me, he could not have met my needs in a spouse.”

“Spouse?” Whitney whispered. What a strange word to hear in speaking to his male lover, and he tried to imagine who Lex would one day marry. Just what kind of woman she’d have to be, and felt a deep stab of pain he refused to consider.

“Yes,” Lex continued, oblivious to his younger lover’s turmoil. “When the time is right, and you have of course accepted my proposal, we’ll fly to Holland or Belgium to be married. In every way that I can I will legally attach your name to mine and I will expect you to re-locate your life to Metropolis. Clark was never comfortable with me being in charge of our relationship, especially with him liking to top and as he came closer to becoming Superman.”

That was news, that Lex had bottomed for Clark. Exciting, even. Whitney loved the fullness of having Lex inside him, the possession and need, but he frowned to realize he’d been selfishly denying Lex’s wants. At his lover’s direction he’d penetrated him a few times, but he vastly preferred being on the receiving end. Had that been wrong of him?

“Lex,” he started, trying to think of how to ask, but a firm kiss stopped him.

“Don’t for a minute think I don’t like things the way we are. Yes, I can top and bottom, but I like fucking you. You were made to be fucked, by me. Unless I hear differently from you, things are fine the way they are.”

Whitney nodded and smiled, kissing the bared ankle near his head. He knew he could trust Lex to tell him what he wanted, and apparently he wanted to marry him. That was huge. Lex never spoke of love, his silence eloquent admission to the lack of such overwhelming emotion. Never having expected to be loved, should he regret the absence of false platitudes? Love was something decent, deserving God fearing people searched for. Whitney knew he was undeserving of such reward, but Lex’s hands stealing up under his shirt and Lex’s mouth sealing over his, there was a promise of affection. More than he deserved. He looked up from his lap to meet the pale gaze patiently waiting.

“Yes, Lex. I’ll marry you.”
sSs
TBC.