Everything

Notes: This is a clex futurefic. Spoilers for Seasons 1-5.

Credits: Thanks to Lursa for posting.

Disclaimer: Based on characters owned by DC Comics and Smallville.

Warnings: All activities were performed by professional characters under controlled conditions. This is erotica featuring m/m activities.


Lex slips out the office door, relocking it behind him. He glances at his watch. Ten minutes left for additional explorations before the guard that he'd knocked out would be expected to report back in again. Lex ambles back along the catwalks, staring down at the rows of glass and metal vats below. The liquids bubbling and fizzling softly inside the glass glow a pallid green. He can see a handful of employees in white lab coats with LuthorCorp logos embroidered on the shoulders roaming the narrow walkways between the rows and pausing to consult the readings blinking on various vats before making notes and moving on. None of them are wearing any protective gear, but he knows too much about his father's indifference to minor things like employee safety to assume that whatever is brewing in the vats is harmless.

He tucks his gloved hands deeper into the pockets of the black jacket with security patches on the shoulders, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the cheap cologne permeating the slick fabric. How could someone voluntarily walk around smelling like that? He's been fighting back the urge to sneeze since he stole the jacket. Bad enough that the man that he'd taken it from had been both taller and stouter than he so that the jacket hung awkwardly on his slender frame, but to have that stench polluting each breath. He's smelled worse things, but right now it's a little difficult to remember what exactly. Lex moves down the metal stairway to the lower level, tugging his black baseball cap lower.

"What are you doing down here? You aren't supposed to be on this level."

"Thought I saw something." Lex pauses in front of one of the vats, and glances casually over his shoulder at the man behind him. His opponent is well within easy attacking range if it should become necessary. "Is this stuff harmful?"

"Harmful? Absolutely not." The man glances warily around before taking a step closer, and lowering his voice. "Umm. Why would you think that?"

"Rumors," Lex whispers back. "You ever hear of Earl Jenkins?"

"The crazy guy who took a bunch of high school kids hostage? That was years ago. What's it got to do with us?"

"He wasn't crazy before he started working for LuthorCorp. At least that's what I hear."

"What's that…" the other man looks up at the screech of stressed metal. His eyes widen and his face scrunches up in puzzlement. "What the hell?"

Lex stares upwards at a tall figure clad deep red from calf-high boots to masked face. He'd know that mouth and those eyes anywhere. What the fuck does Clark think he's doing parading around a LuthorCorp in red spandex? "I bet it's one of those Gotham City weirdoes. You better go. I'll take care of this."

"I think you're right. I'll just go…umm…go…warn the others." The man backs slowly away, and then turns, and runs, his white lab coat flaring behind him.

The red-clad figure sways on the catwalk above, clutching and crumpling the railing. Even as Lex watches the railing collapses and Clark falls gracelessly through the gap to hit the walkway with a thud. His long legs hit a vat and shatter the glass, spilling green liquid everywhere. Lex sighs loudly as he walks over to the awkward sprawl of red. He can hear the clatter of many feet as his father's workers scatter with cries of confused alarm. Lex pulls a muscular arm over his shoulder and heaves Clark upright and out of the puddle of liquid.

"Please…it hurts. Get it off." Clark turns his head, and his eyes widen as he gets a good look at the face of the man helping him up the staircase. "Lex?"

Lex frowns as he stares at the tiny patch of bare skin showing between Clark's gloves and sleeves. He doesn't like the way greenish veins are throbbing and twisting beneath the golden skin. He's got to get the soaked spandex off Clark as soon as possible, but they can't stop yet. It wouldn't be long before the lab's security gathered their collective nerve and came charging back in. He's got to get Clark out of here. "What are you doing here?"

"I…please. Hurts." Clark shudders.

"I know. Can you lean here a second?" Lex props Clark up against the manager's door and shakes his head as the boy promptly sags back down to the catwalk. He turns to the water cooler and pulls the clear plastic top off, dousing Clark with the contents. He tosses the top aside and crouches down to cup Clark's chin in his hand. The eyes staring back at him are still dazed, but traces of alertness glimmer in the teal depths. He tugs Clark back up. "Come on. I'll have you out of here in a minute."


++


Clark presses his face into the buttery smoothness of a leather seat. It feels so good to have the tight fabric off his face. How did the superheroes that he'd read about stand it? He had no idea it would be so hot and uncomfortable wrapped around his head, pulling his skin unpleasantly tight and flattening his hair against his skull. The mask that he'd tried last week had kept slipping at critical moments. There had to be a better way to conceal his identity. A more comfortable way.

"Clark? Clark? Talk to me."

He's distantly aware of the cajoling voice as his boots are tugged off. He feels so awful. So dizzy and sick. Everything is blurring around him and fading in and out like one of those weird paintings in his art textbook. His whole world is reduced to one word, "Hurts."

His body obediently bends and folds under Lex's guiding hands as his costume is peeled away from him. That's another one ruined, but that's okay. It hadn't felt right. Maybe he should've gone with black, but he likes red. Maybe something in a nice blue instead. Blue could be sneaky and it would blend in with the sky when he had to fly. Yeah. Blue might be…

++


"You know, even spandex can only take so much. Have you considered investigating in a liquid repelling blend instead?" Lex looks from the red puddle of spandex soaking in the sink to the huddle of unconscious Clark sprawled in the bathtub with the showerhead splattering warm water over golden skin at full force. Somehow when he had imagined seeing Clark naked for the first time, meteor rock allergies hadn't been part of the scenario. Lex frowns at the liquid detergent sitting on the basin. Had he used too much? White piles of foam are curling over the edges and drooling down to the white tiled floor. "I know you like to fit in, Clark. But spandex is taking conformity too far."

Lex turns, hooking a thumb in the tops of his boxers, tugging the gray silk down. He folds them on top of his other clothes, and steps over to the shower, turning it off and the tub on. When he had imagined finally being naked with Clark, he had envisioned his partner as being a lot more alert and interactive. Lex levers Clark forward and slides down in the tub, cradling his friend against his chest. "Mr. Kent probably wouldn't appreciate this observation, Clark, but if you are going to insist on getting yourself in these sorts of situations, all I can say is that it would be a good thing to start dating someone with significantly more muscle mass than Lana. Like me, for example."

He sets his jaw in a determined line. With his cock mindlessly celebrating the proximity of so much naked Clark, making sure there are no traces of that meteor rock laced solution lingering on beautiful golden skin is not going to be the easiest job. And the languid way Clark is nuzzling up against him is not helping. Apparently Clark's subconscious doesn't have a problem with being this close to him. Lex drops a kiss on wet onyx curls. "You are going to kill me, you know that?"

"Lex," Clark murmurs, his voice a low throaty rasp.

Lex moans, hips arching involuntarily at the feel of shaven cheek rubbing over his nipple. He squirts liquid soap into his palm, picks up a washcloth, and begins grimly scrubbing, trying to ignore the big body curling and unfurling against him in response to his touch. "You are definitely going to kill me. And it will serve you right to wake up tomorrow and wonder why there is a dead and erect Luthor in your bathtub. I sincerely hope it drives you as crazy as you are making me."

++

There is someone else in his bed. How could there be someone in his bed? He never, he just doesn't, but now he apparently has, and he can't even remember doing it. Which he really, really needs to so he can do whatever worked the first time again to successfully lure someone back to his off-campus apartment. Oh, god, he's lost his virginity to someone that he can't even remember, but at least he's finally lost it. Or does losing it count if you can't remember losing it?

He doesn't even remember getting back to his apartment, but he knows that they are there. He can hear the familiar drip-drip-drip coming from the bathroom sink. Clark sighs. He thought he'd finally fixed that yesterday, but apparently not. He can hear the annoying yap-yap-yap of his neighbor's tiny dog, and the relentless drone of his other neighbor's television, and the rattle of the garbage truck outside. Undeniably his apartment, despite the unfamiliar murmur of voices in the hallway and the patter-tap noises of footsteps outside. Had someone hosted a late night party?

That could explain…umm, no. He's pretty sure that nothing can explain the wonderful velvety warmth beneath his cheek. He nuzzles tentatively closer, listening to the slow, relaxed heartbeat. The sound is soothing. Like there's nothing wrong with the fact that he is lying with his head on a stranger's chest. Like there's nothing unusual about the chest in question, like say, oh, the whole lack of breasts. He'd never really considered it, but he'd always assumed that if he ever did end up in a bed with another person, it would be with someone with breasts. Someone like Lana.

He'd never even considered the possibility of this, of being in his apartment, on his bed, cuddling someone without breasts, but it feels good. Better than good. It feels right. Why hadn't he ever considered this option before? Why had his parents always talked about what to do and not do with girls instead? Oh, god, his parents, Clark breaths in sharply as a sudden vision rises before his mind's eye of bringing someone without breasts home to his parents for the holidays. What would they do? How would his dad react to this new discovery? Oh, shit.

Okay, he is not opening his eyes. This is clearly heading for a too freaky to get out of bed sort of day, and his parents aren't here to make him do it. He needs time to think about this. If he just keeps his eyes closed, eventually the chest will wake up and remove itself, and he can pretend that there was never any chest in his bed. But is that what he wants? And what if his unknown guest gets up and cooks waffles for two instead? He can hardly pretend to sleep through that.

What if his mystery bedmate went to Met U too? What if he had taken Mr. Chest back to his apartment and…and…done…things? He's been in Metropolis long enough to have met guys who did things with each other, even if he isn't entirely clear on the details of exactly what things were done. What if Mr. Chest knew his name, and went around campus saying things like, "Wow, that Clark Kent sure knows how to do things to a guy?" What is he going to do? What if more guys want him to do things? What if he wants to? But how is he going to explain not knowing what things to do after Mr. Chest spreads the word? What if he'd been really, really awful? Then all the guys would be avoiding him. What if Pete heard rumors about it before he was able to talk to Pete? Would his friend be as cool with the suddenly gay thing as with the alien thing?

There are fingers stroking softly through his hair now in a very more than friends sort of way that strongly encourages the idea of guys who did things, or had done things and wanted to do things again. Okay. Maybe he could fake his way through a second encounter and resolve all his worries except the Pete issue. Clark frowns, but he's wearing his cotton boxers, so maybe they haven't done things. But if they haven't done things, why is someone in his bed? Could they have done things if he's still got his boxers on? Gathering his nerve, Clark peeks from under his lashes.

He can see the slope and curve of lean muscles covered in rich creamy skin dotted with cinnamon scatters of freckles. Had he…had they…shouldn't he be sore or something if they had? Clark bites his lip as he debates with himself. It would have been nice to have finally done something so normal, so human…oh, damn, what if things hadn't been done because he'd been all freakishly alien? How is he going to explain away whatever alien stuff he'd done if he couldn't remember where to start? And some things like floating and heat vision just couldn't be explained away, but the guy was still here so maybe he hadn't done anything too awful and weird. Had he?

"Clark? Could you stop hyperventilating, and let me out of bed? I have people I need to call."

Sheets and blankets tumble in every direction as Clark heaves himself up in a blur of golden skin and green plaid boxers. He crouches, perfectly balanced, on a corner of the bed. His wide teal eyes focus in disbelief on his companion. "Lex?"

Lex leans up on his elbows, watching in fascination as Clark crouches on the corner of the bed. His friend is perfectly balanced, perfectly poised with the all the grace of a highly trained athlete. There isn't even a hint of the physical awkwardness that he's used to seeing Clark display in public. "Something wrong, Clark?"

"I…you…what are you doing here?"

"You don't remember?" Lex asks in his huskiest voice. He touches the tip of his tongue to his upper lip as he levels a sultry stare at his companion.

"Lex!" Clark can feel his face heating with a blush, but he can't look away from the suddenly fascinating curves of that mouth. Had he…with Lex? He can feel an inward seismic shifting at the thought, at the vague sense memories of the feel of leather and brush of night air against his bare skin. Of the velvet sound of Lex's voice and the warmth of Lex's hands sliding across his skin. Clark bites his lower lip against the urge to crawl back up the bed, and lick the tantalizingly creamy skin revealed by the shifting blue sheets. It makes him think of the expensive truffles that Chloe occasionally indulged in; the smooth tartness of mint wrapped in the richness of dark chocolate. Would Lex be so lushly bittersweet on his tongue? "I'm not sure."

"Not sure?"

Clark rubs his forehead. It's finally beginning to come back to him. The field test of his latest costume. His practice sneak around the LuthorCorp lab. It'd all been going so well until he'd gotten sick, and almost gotten caught. Would have gotten caught if Lex hadn't gotten him away. Why had Lex been there too? And why had Lex helped him?

He can hear his father's voice booming in the back of his head about devious Luthors and their untrustworthy manipulative ways. Not to mention secret rooms. Seeing that room had left him feeling like he was on quicksand. He'd thought that he'd hidden his secrets so well, and yet those exhibits had proved that Lex had been frighteningly close to putting it all together. He watches Lex from beneath his lashes. "It's all fuzzy."

"Fuzzy."

The flat tone in Lex's voice isn't encouraging. Nor is the chill in the narrowed blue eyes. How many times has he heard that particular inflection in Lex's voice? Seen that cold evaluation enter Lex's eyes after an offering of lies or denials? How much did Lex know? What should he admit to? Clark drops his gaze and nervously fingers the hem of his boxers. "Um, yeah. Fuzzy. I went to class. I remember doing that."

"Did you? I'm sure your professors appreciated your diligence. And after class?"

"I…umm…went out."

"We both know you went out." Lex sighs loudly as he collapses back against the pillows. He runs a hand over the smooth curves of his face, wondering if he looks as exhausted as he feels after sitting up most of the night watching Clark, and thinking about the myriad ways in which last night could have gone horribly wrong. "And where you went."

"How did you know it was me?" Clark sags down on the bed as more details float to the surface of his mind. He winces at the memory of Lex staring up at him, blue eyes wide, in stunned disbelief and recognition. His costume had definitely failed the identity concealment portion of the field test.

"How did I know," Lex murmurs in a mock thoughtful tone. "Could it have been your idiosyncratic reaction to meteor rock, and products made from it?"

"Meteor rock is dangerous to everyone, Lex. And I'm not the only person that gets sick around it. What about Earl Jenkins, and Dr. Hamilton? What about the meteor freaks that mutated from contact with it?"

"Jenkins and Hamilton had long term exposure. Meteor freaks, like myself for example," Lex turns a sharp smile on the young man watching him warily from the corner of the bed, "were exposed once to extremely high levels. You are the only person who reacts by getting dizzy, and sick, when exposed to even small amounts of it for short periods of time."

Clark lowers his head and stares back from beneath his dark hair. He's the one who is a freak. Not Lex who is so luminously human and beautiful. "You aren't a freak, Lex."

"Mutant, then."

That he would have to concede; the meteors that had covered his arrival had caused so many undeniable mutations in humans. Clark tilts his head as his gaze slides slowly down the smoothness of his friend's chest before skipping shyly down to the bulge fronting the black silk boxers. He'd never wondered about Lex there before, and now that he is wondering, he can't seem to stop. Clark swallows hard and looks quickly away. "You recognized me before I fell. How did you know?"

"I've known you a long time, Clark. I doubt a few acres of red spandex would fool your parents either. Or Chloe. Or Pete. Lana…okay, I'll grant you might have fooled Lana." Lex waves his hand in an absently imperious gesture like a Roman Emperor deigning to grant a minor favor. "You want to tell me what was going on with all the red?"

"What's wrong with red? I like red. It's cheerful. It's friendly." If he wants sneakiness with style, he could do worse than to consult an expert. Of course, Lex might suggest his favorite imperial purple. Clark considers a moment and shakes his head. Lex might manage to look both regal and edible in purple, but he would just look like some weird flying grape person. Maybe it's the spandex that's the problem rather than the color. "How can anybody not like red?"

"I like red, just not in that quantity. It's rather overpowering. Not to mention attention grabbing."

Well, there is that. Clark frowns. The online store that he'd bought the red costume from did have it in black, but the model had looked scary in it. Not at all like the sort of person that another person might be inclined to ask for help. More like the kind of person that would chase people while screaming and waving an ax. He wants to help people, not scare them into a coronary before he can even offer to help them. "I suppose you would vote for black."

"Costumes are designed to draw attention. Camouflage is deigned to redirect it. I suggest you consider the difference."

"You were wearing black."

"I was wearing an official LuthorCorp security jacket."

"Yeah, right. And how many bald security guards does that place have?"

"Three. And might I further note, that I wasn't the one who was being gawked at. A rather refreshing change actually. Perhaps I should require my own security to wear red spandex. I might look almost normal in comparison." Lex wiggles into a more comfortable position. "Or I could just pay you to walk around in my vicinity while wearing your costume. What do you say, Clark? Need a part-time job to pay for those textbooks?"

"Very funny, Lex." Clark crawls up the bed to claim the other pillow. He rubs his cheek against the thin cotton with dissatisfaction. It's a poor substitute for the warm smoothness of Lex's chest. He eyes the smooth skin, wondering if he dares curl up and make himself at home there again. Lex hadn't seemed to mind earlier. "What do you think that stuff in the vats was?"

Lex frowns. "Don't be disingenuous, Clark. It doesn't suit you. We both know it had something to do with meteor rocks. My dad's obsessed with them."

"You're interested in the rocks, too."

"I. Am. Not. My. Dad."

"I didn't say that you were, Lex. But you are interested in the rocks. Just like you're interested in me." Clark searches the vivid blue of his friend's cool stare. Did Lex have any idea how badly that secret room in the castle had scared him? He'd eventually accepted Lex's overtures and resumed their friendship, but the knowledge that that room had ever existed lay between them, coloring every interaction with hints of suspicion.

"That meteor changed my life, Clark. Of course, I'm interested in what else those rocks can do."

"Is that what you were doing last night? Why you were there? A little corporate espionage?"

"It sounds like you already have all the answers." Lex turns his head and stares up at the ceiling. "I wasn't the only one sneaking around a LuthorCorp lab last night. What were you doing there? A little non-corporate espionage?"

"Lex, I…" Clark bites his lip on the words that want to tumble out as he stares at Lex's elegant profile. He could get used to seeing that profile on the other side of the bed. His gaze drops to the graceful sloping curve of Lex's mouth. What would it be like to kiss Lex? "I can't tell you what I was doing there."

"No?" Lex sits up and reaches for the cell phone resting on the wobbly bedside table. He flips it open and scrolls through the messages. Nodding with satisfaction at some and frowning darkly at others. "All that red spandex just screams out for an explanation, Clark."

"Well, you aren't getting one." Clark leans up on his elbow, trying to steal a glimpse of the text unfurling across the phone's screen. He pretends to be intent on adjusting his pillow as Lex turns a suspicious gaze on him and flips the phone shut, dropping it back on the table. Clark sits up as Lex rolls out bed, walking over to the small closet. What is Lex doing?

"At least you are admitting there's an explanation to be had. That's a step forward."

"I don't hear you offering to explain anything."

Lex emerges from the closet with a dull green duffle bag. He tosses it to Clark. "The last time I tried to explain something to you, you told me that our friendship was over. So why should I bother explaining why I was investigating the lab? Or has your Psych 101 class introduced you to the concept of positive reinforcement this semester?"

Clark clutches the duffle to his chest, glowering over the crumpled nylon. How could Lex expect him to believe that that awful room was about his friend instead of himself? It wasn't Lex's pictures staring back from the walls. He didn't even want to think abou the time that had gone to creating and arranging those…those…he couldn't even think of anything else to call them, except exhibits. He throws the duffle on the floor with an irritated gesture. "We talked about stalkers too."

"Are you daring to imply that I was stalking you?"

"I think you were studying me. Like I was a science project."

"You're still pissed about that room?" Lex sighs loudly as he directs an exasperated stare at the ceiling. "I told you then, the room was about me. Not you."

"Oddly enough I didn't see any photos of you on the wall."

"Maybe I just like looking at you." Lex lowers his gaze, openly treating himself to a slow survey from tousled black curls to wide teal eyes and full pink lips before dropping to wide shoulders and muscled chest. He lingers with unconcealed curiosity over the mysteries concealed by green plaid boxers before studying long muscular legs and big feet. He makes his lazy way back up to smile sensually into the darkening teal stare. "Did that occur to you?"

"I don't remember you saying that."

"You were in high school, Clark. And all you could talk about was Lana."

"Why did you help me with her then?"

Lex shrugs. "Because you wanted her. And I wanted her out of your system by the time you were old enough for me."

Clark slides back down on the bed, stretching languidly as he watches Lex from beneath his lashes. He only hopes he doesn't look as silly as he feels. He's never tried to deliberately seduce someone, not even when he was running around Metropolis high on red kryptonite. Would the sleepy-eyed man leaning against the faded green wallpaper feel as decadently luxurious as he looked? "I'm old enough now."

"And Lana?" Lex shivers as the teal gaze slides over him, dark and considering. Behind the simmering curiosity, there is a predatory glimmer in Clark's stare that he's only seen a few times before. Heat flushes beneath his skin as the acquisitive gaze lingers over him.

"I want you."

"Good." Lex pushes away from the wall and walks over to stand in front Clark. "Our friendship has always about more than my curiosity about your secrets. Never doubt that."

"Oh? What is it about then?"

"Wanting."

"Wanting," Clark repeats, rolling the word over his tongue and savoring the taste of it. He tilts his head back as Lex leans down. The nip of teeth at his lower lip and the teasing velvet stroke of tongue make him moan and open his mouth to Lex's slow, confident claiming. All those years of sitting across from Lex, at the Talon, in Lex's office, in Lex's cars and he hadn't known that Lex tasted so good.

Clark curls his tongue over the velvet damp of Lex's in bold demand for more. He cups his hands over the curve of Lex's skull, marveling at the amazing silken smoothness fitting warmly into his palms, and hating anyone else who had been allowed this discovery.

"Wanting, Clark." Lex pulls back the scant inches that the big hands caressing his head allow. He stares into the younger man's smoldering eyes. "That's what it's all been about. I've wanted everything from you since I saw you bending over me on the riverbank."

Clark traces the swollen curves of Lex's mouth with his thumb. He presses down on the lower lip, grinning as Lex promptly nips him. "And if I want everything too?"

"It's yours," Lex promises huskily as he straightens. He brushes his fingertips over the satiny tousle of black curls as he studies his friend's expression. "Are you certain you want this?"

"Oh, yes." Clark rubs his cheek against the silky skin of Lex's waist. He can hear his father's voice booming warnings in his head again, and that he can ignore, but interweaving around his father's voice, he can hear Lana's pleading tones as she tells him that no real intimacy can exist with secrets. "I want this. I want you."

"But?"

Clark pulls back, stroking his fingers over the pink flush his stubble had left on Lex's pale skin. He can feel his secrets sticking in his throat instead of flowing over his tongue in relief as they had when he'd told Pete. The longer he'd kept his secrets the harder it got to release them. The only way he'd been able to tell Chloe was she had somehow known already. That had been more an admission than a revealing. Would it be enough for Lex if he finally acknowledged the existence of his secrets? He can go that far. "I have secrets, Lex. Secrets that I can't talk about. Can you accept that? Live with that?"

Lex sniggers. "Are you still laboring under the impression that you have secrets?"

"I have secrets. Big secrets." Clark lifts his chin, feeling vaguely offended at his friend's amusement. He could be sneaky. He could. There are plenty of people that had known him since he was an infant who didn't have a clue about his secrets. "You've known me for five years, and you're just now finding out. That's a pretty good secret, Lex."

"I've known you weren't the average farm boy since the day I ran my Porsche all over you. The longer that I've known you, the more obvious it was." Lex tilts his head quizzically when the familiar denials and excuses aren't immediately offered. "You aren't going to deny it?"

"No. I want you to know. If we're going to do this, you need to know that I'm different. I'm really different, Lex." Clark glances up, his eyes wide and nervous. "Really, really different."

"No shit, E.T."

"E.T.?" Clark repeats weakly. He presses his face back into the silky warmth of Lex's stomach.

"Do you have any clue how often you've guest starred on LuthorCorp and LexCorp security cameras? You really don't want to know how much I pay an enterprising weasel in LuthorCorp to send those clips to me instead of Dad." Lex strokes his fingertips through Clark's dark hair, urging his friend closer. There had been a weasel that had tried to sell bootleg copies of those images, but Clark doesn't need to know what he'd done to that one as a warning to others with not so bright ideas.

"Shit. Shit. Shit." Clark groans and presses closer, wrapping his arm's around Lex's narrow waist. He'd thought that he'd evaded the security cameras with his superspeed. "I didn't think the cameras could see me when I was going really fast."

"The images from the earlier cameras just show a giant blur, but those blips caused both LuthorCorp and LexCorp to upgrade, Clark. With other people you might be safe in assuming they would write it off as an anomaly instead of responding with expensive upgrades, but Luthors are much too security conscious to let something like that go."

"Oh, god. How much does your father know?"

"I'm not sure. He's always been willing to think outside the box so we can't assume that he might not be willing to jump to conclusions that others might hesitate over. He knows you're different, but whether he attributes that difference to meteor rocks or something else, I don't know." Lex slides his hands down Clark's nape to knead tense shoulders.

"What am I going to do?" Clark whispers against the sleek muscles of his friend's stomach.

"We, Clark. Not I. What are we going to do?" Lex cups his hand under Clark's chin and urges his friend to look up. "You aren't alone in this. I'm in your corner. I've always been in your corner."

"That's good to know."

"I pried into your secrets because I wanted to know. I needed to know." Lex traces a finger over the tempting pinkness of Clark's mouth, smiling as Clark nibbles lightly at his fingertips. He might have lost all chance of this last night. It could have happened so easily. What if the guards had come sooner, and taken Clark captive? They wouldn't have known, or cared about Clark's allergies to meteor rock. Clark could have died, or survived long enough to be taken to his father. He might never have found Clark again. "I had to know if I was going to protect you."

"Lex, you don't have to go up against Lionel over me. I can look after myself. I'm strong. I'm fast. It's not easy to hurt me."

"Unless one has access to a nice supply of meteor rock, which my father does. All it takes to find a suitable rock is a simple hike around the Smallville environs. Anyone could do it, Clark. If I hadn't been there last night," Lex slides his fingers down to stroke the strong lines of golden throat, gliding over the reassuring thrum of Clark's pulse.

"I'll be more careful next time."

"There isn't going to be a next time, until you have a few lessons in the fine art of camouflage and stealth." Lex pulls away with a frown. "Get up and pack, Clark."

"I just moved in," Clark grumbles

"So?" Lex turns to peek between the dusty white slats of the crooked shade covering the window. Ah, the gathering below is making excellent progress. Plan A for improving alien farm boy safety by raising Clark's media profile is pulling together right on schedule.

"So I'm not moving back out without a good reason. Besides who dies and put you in charge?"

"I'm a Luthor, I'm always in charge." Lex turns with a smug smile. The higher visibility would make it much harder for his father, or anyone else to make Clark quietly vanish. Not to mention giving him the opportunity to buy Clark out of whatever problems the boy stumbled into. "It's genetic. I can't help myself."

"Try. Try real hard." Clark casts a longing look from the empty spot next to him and Lex. He doesn't want to get dressed and leave. He wants to pull Lex down on that bed and demand that Lex show him everything. Immediately. "Why not just stay here instead of going…where did you want to go?"

"My penthouse."

"And you want us there because…?" Clark lounges against the headboard and crosses his arms over his chest, watching as Lex swaggers over to stand next to the bed. How did Lex manage to look so imperious while wearing nothing but boxers? He wouldn't have looked silly, but Lex looks like a Roman emperor staring down a senator who'd dared talk back. Maybe it was genetic.

"Because you've just joined a very select group of people, Clark."

"And that would be?" He wants to kiss the secretive smile curving Lex's mouth. Amazed delight glitters through him with the realization that he can. He can kiss Lex and see if he can taste the amusement quirking that scarred mouth. Clark grabs Lex and pulls the other man on top of the rumpled sheets. He kisses the quirking edges of Lex's smile.

"Persons with whom a Luthor has publicly spent the night."

"What?" Clark lifts his head in surprise as the words whispered against his mouth register with his brain. "But we didn't…we haven't…at least not yet."

"You can try telling that to the reporters out there. But I don't think they are likely to buy it. I do have a certain reputation, you know."

"Reporters?" Clark squints through the walls in alarm, remembering the media frenzy that had sprung up around Lex's string of one night lovers after Lex had been framed for murdering one of them. He breathes in sharply as he sees reporters, and photographers, and camera crews milling around outside. He squeezes his eyes shut, begging silently for patience. What had Lex done? "Lex, why are there reporters outside?"

"Luthors are news in this city, Clark. Get used to it." Lex smirks as he shifts, finding leverage enough to reverse their position. He spreads out on top of Clark.

"Get used to it? Why should I get used to it? I'm not a Luthor." Clark's eyes snap open as he focuses his hearing on the reporters chirping gleefully away, saying his name and Lex's name. And his neighbors, oh god, his neighbors are chattering away about seeing a skinny bald guy carrying a big naked guy across the lobby and upstairs. He turns a horrified stare on Lex. What if his parents are listening to this? His teachers? His friends? "You carried me naked through the lobby?"

"You can hear them?" Lex arches his eyebrows at quizzical angles, his eyes gleaming with fascination. He thought he'd figured out most of Clark's abilities. What else had Clark managed to conceal? "You can hear what they are saying from this room?"

"Lex! Did you," Clark takes a deep calming breath," did you…was I really naked when you carried me up here?"

"Alas, there was so much of you, and so little of the emergency blanket that I had in my trunk. And I did rather have my arms full."

"You…you…you," Clark sputters as he glowers at the blatantly unrepentant Lex smirking at him. He's tried so hard to go unnoticed, to keep himself hid in the groups around him. To be unremarkably average. The idea of having the full glare of the Metropolis media trained on him makes him feel queasily exposed. "Could you have been a little more indiscreet?"

"I suppose I could have just shoved your naked ass out on the front steps, and driven off instead of hauling you up three flights of stairs."

Clark narrows his eyes in annoyance at such typically cavalier Luthorness. He bet Lex wouldn't like it if people were down there talking on camera about his parts. "Lex, people are out there talking about my…my…"

"Your?" Lex prompts, his blue eyes wide with interest.

"Never mind." People probably had discussed Lex's parts and worse on camera before so he can't expect to find any sympathy there. Clark sighs. "How did they know?"

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to peel wet spandex off a large unconscious guy in the front seat of a very small car?"

"A very small car. Like one of your Porsches? The kind with personalized tags?"

Lex grins at the stunned expression on Clark's face. He'd known that once he had his security park the car out front, it would only be a matter of time before some enterprising tabloid reporter noticed. Especially if he helped matters along with a few anonymous tips to appropriate parties. "Exactly like that."

"That would explain the swarm of media out front."

"You might as well get used to them. Infestations of reporters are part of the whole Luthor package."

"They think you picked me up somewhere." Clark's jaw tightens as he listens to the speculations going on outside, as one of his neighbors describes him, sparking a flurry of interest with the information that he's a brunette, and prompting a retrospective on Lex's previous brunette line-up. He scowls. "They think they've caught you with another of your infamous one night wonders. Are they right, Lex? Is that all this is? Will I be getting a delivery of diamonds tomorrow?"

"Don't worry. You don't get diamonds."

"I don't?"

"Diamonds are the Thank You For Playing Award for one night stands." Lex dips his head, brushing a soft, sweetly wooing kiss over full pink lips. "So no diamonds for you."

"Good," Clark murmurs against the seductive teasing of Lex's lips. He deepens the kiss, hungrily exploring the velvet heat of his lover's mouth. "I don't want diamonds."

"What do you want?"

"You." Clark slides his hands slowly down the smooth skin and sleek muscles of Lex's back. He lingers along the border of lower back and silky waistband, before easing his fingers beneath the elastic and pushing Lex's boxers lower. He tentatively cups the muscular arcs of his lover's ass. How can anyone feel that good? So soft and hard, filling his palms so sweetly? "I want you. Only you."

"I'm a package deal, Clark. I come bundled with a penthouse and fast cars and other less desirable accessories like my dad and assorted reporters and a dubious past." Lex shoves his boxers the rest of the way down and kicks them off. He thrusts against Clark, enjoying the teasing layer of soft cotton between his cock and his lover's. A shudder rushes through him as the teal shade of his lover's eyes suddenly vanishes beneath a glitter autumn leaf orange. "Are you sure you don't want to grab the diamonds and run?"

"No diamonds, Lex. Ever," Clark demands breathlessly as he presses back against Lex. Oh, god, it feels so good…that slick glide against a matching hardness, the rub and pull of his boxers. He leans up to kiss his lover. "I come bundled with a few troublesome accessories myself."

"No diamonds, then."

"Damn right. No diamonds for anybody ever again. Lex." Clark gasps and closes his eyes against the heat that fills him as Lex rocks leisurely against him. "You're mine from now on. No more picking up nameless brunettes. No more orders for diamonds at the jewelry stores." Clark brushes soft nips over the scattering of golden freckles dusting the ivory warmth of each muscular shoulder.

"I only want one brunette."

"Good." Clark traces curious fingers over the crinkled cinnamon velvet of Lex's nipples. Lex had better mean it because he can never let Lex go. Not after this. "I'm the only brunette that you're getting after this."

"Clark," Lex stares into those strange amber-glazed eyes. How could anyone see Clark this way and fail to perceive his lover's essentially alien beauty? How much trust is it taking for Clark to let him see the alien so openly displayed? He hooks a finger in the waistband of Clark's boxers. "I'll need to make sure that you're a natural brunette before I can agree to that. I have an image to uphold, you know. I do brunettes and only brunettes."

"Take my boxers off, and find out." Clark grins.

Lex pushes himself up to kneel next to Clark. He's been waiting so long for this, for Clark to want him back that he can barely believed that he is finally free to touch in all the ways that he's imagined. He wants to see everything. Touch everything. Taste everything. He eases the boxers off, revealing a soft cloud of fine dark curls surrounding the trembling thickness of cock hovering over the heavy balls. Lex moves back between his lover's thighs and leans down, nuzzling the dark curls, smiling at the responsive shiver that ripples through Clark's muscles. "Ummm. Definitely a natural brunette."

"Feel free to check any time."

"Is that a dare?" Lex kisses the swollen crown. He pulls back to admire the soft wine colored flush darkening it. "There's no knowing when and where the need for some confirmation might hit me. My office, my car." Lex pauses for a slow lick up the length. "Your barn, your classroom." He watches as moisture beads at the crown and slides down the engorged length. "My dad's office, the middle of a Kent Farm cornfield." He touches the tip of his tongue to the gleaming droplet, and licks.

"Oh, god." Clark moans hoarsely.

"Would you like that, Clark? Can you imagine being spread out on my glass desk? Your naked skin painted in shifting colors by my stained glass windows. You're trying to stay quiet because all the servants know we're in there, but you can't…you keep making those sexy noises, yes, just like that," Lex murmurs as he alternates licks and kisses. "The door is unlocked. Anyone could walk in. My housekeeper. Your dad. My dad. Lana. Pete. Chloe. And it would just be too bad, because I wouldn't stop."

"Oh, god." Clark spreads his thighs wider as his cock swells higher as he listens to Lex and imagines the scene. His skin tinted in shades of purple, the cool hardness of glass beneath him, and the velvet wetness of Lex's mouth surrounding him, and half of Smallville watching Lex do him.

"I'll take that as a yes." Lex opens his mouth and swallows his lover's cock.

Clark cups his hands over the smooth curve of Lex's head, body arching into the delicious pull as he listens to Lex sucking him and the reporters below speculating about Lex and him. What they are to each other, what they are doing up in his room, and that makes him feel even hotter. Deliciously wicked and sluttish in a way that he's never experienced as he thinks of everyone in Metropolis knowing that Lex picked him for this; that the dorky Kent boy is the one lying in bed with Lex smoldering over him. Lex…oh, god…that's good…so good…please...Lex."

Lex sucks harder as Clark arches beneath him, calling out his name and filling his mouth. He reluctantly allows his lover's cock to slide away. He sprawls across Clark, idly nuzzling the rippling stomach muscles as Clark caresses his head.

"I can hear the reporters…talking about us." Clark urges his lover over. He slides down, eager to see and taste Lex. He smiles and trails his fingers through the fine gilt-copper hair spreading like delicate lacework around the rosy thickness of his lover's cock.

"Do you like that, Clark?" Lex asks huskily, thrusting helplessly as Clark's tentatively mouths him, sampling and tasting. "Do you like imagining them looking at their watches and wondering how much longer we will be up here. What we're doing up here?"

"Ohhh. I…yes. I want them to know. I want everybody to know that you're mine now." Clark wraps his mouth around the jutting rose flushed length of Lex's cock and sucks, enjoying the way the slick cock glides over his lips and tongue like it was custom designed specifically for his personal pleasure.

"Good." Lex shudders at the increasingly relentless demand as Clark sucks enthusiastically. He clutches at the covers and sheets. If the idea of being watched revved Clark's motor this high, he's got to get Clark in his office. And the barn. And the corn field: he might even develop a certain fondness for corn with enough positive reinforcement. And to think of all the possibilities offered by parking carefully selected and vetted guests in his penthouse's other bedrooms. He touches Clark's head in warning. "Almost there. Close…Clark if you don't want to…Clark! "

Clark sits up, licking his lips. He crawls up his lover's limp body to takes Lex's mouth in a long, possessive kiss. He settles back amid the pillows, tucking Lex close against his side. He drifts off to sleep with the softness of Lex's breath puffing over his chest, and the frenzied buzz of the reporters swarming any potential interviewee they could find humming in his ears.

THE END