THANK YOU

CHAPTER THREE: Dreams

They had calmed down a bit, cleaned each other the best they could- Clark flushing the entire time- and then moved to the couch.

Careful there, Luther. You're aching all over, he's made you ache so much.

They sat kissing, naked but for Lex's open shirt, still clinging desperately to his arms. Four legs entwined, four hands caressing, four eyes shut tight in an attempt to focus on touch and sound. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. They just sat, kissing with such ardor, ardor of which Lex had never before had the pleasure of being graced.

His hands were roaming everywhere. Hard body, hard muscles, hard cock, hard everything. Except for the hair, the angelic, soft, almost textureless hair.

He relished in the feeling of Clark's erection against his leg, in his hand, and broke away to nip at the soft, molded skin of Clark's collarbone. "Ah..." he said, still grazing Clark's lower portion with his fingers. "To be so young."

"You're only four years older than me." The voice was strained and pleading.

"Indeed." He licked the length of Clark's neck, making note of the mewling coming from within. The boy tasted so perfect on his tongue; fleshy and alkaline-ish. He bit down hard on the shoulder, acquiring yet another moan, then moved down to the semi-erect nipples, teasing the aureoles in circles, grazing but not biting.

"God, Lex."

He chuckled. "I'm a god now?"

"Why not?" He could hear the smile in Clark's voice and felt a hand stroking the back of his head. His eyes instantly grew heavy and he looked up, meeting warm eyes, and kissed the even warmer mouth with a gentleness he never knew existed inside.

He pulled away from the mouth, returning his attentions back to Clark's chest, and a question popped up in his mind.

"It's not delivery day," he started between tastes. "What brings me the pleasure?"

"Um..." Hesitancy and humor. "Actually, Lana did. Sort of."

Lex's heart stopped, and he pulled back from Clark's nipples to see the boy's face. He winced at Lex.

Not a good sign. No fucking good at all.

"Lex, it's not li-"

"What do you mean, 'Lana did'?" His voice was a desperate whisper and he hated that, but he couldn't hide it.

Some people find themselves long gone, fallen too far to be able to pull themselves back out. Lex envied those people. He was far deeper than to be able to even see his "out".  He was without a light at the end of the tunnel, a goner if Clark didn't return his feelings, if Kent was still crazy for the girl...

"Oh, god."

Clark's eyes widened. "No, I didn't mean it like- Shit, Lex. I came to see you, but, well, it was thanks to her, and, well, kind of about Lana." He winced again.  "Sort of."

He pushed himself off of Clark's lap, and ignored the hands that tried to pull him back. "That's not much better, Kent," he said, defunct. He was shaking, but this time it had nothing to do with his physical condition. He felt his inert and icy insides returning, colder than usual. Maybe Lionel wouldn't be the one to finish him off.

"Lex-"

He was being overly dramatic. This couldn't have been just- just sex. No, there was too much need, too much tenderness. There was something genuine. The kisses when Clark found Lex sporting ruby ringlets... That was genuine, right?

Please?

He shut his eyes. Genuine. He wouldn't know "genuine" if an angel with wings and a halo came down, rays of light shooting from the ass crack of heaven, and bitch slapped him with it.

His mind traveled to the teachings of his father.  Genuine was a paradox.

He remembered the many innocent girls he had seduced for mere carnal pleasure, completely and wholly interested in one thing and one thing only: illicit sexual intercourse. Finding out just what he could make the girls, the women, do for him. The power he held in his hands... The matrons he had taken to bed did everything and anything he asked, without much if any hesitation, and those requirements lead to almost every form of sex imaginable. Every form but making love. Matters of the heart never entered a Luthor's bed.

Until now. Until Clark.

He'd never been fucked before either, much less begged someone to do it. He had always done the fucking. The few of his father's lawyers that were inexplicably attracted to him, boarding school mates, the faceless male populace of 'Club Zero'. Oh, no, he taken from behind, but had never been taken, and had never intended to. It was a sign of weakness, a loss of power and control. Control was something he had never been willing to wave. Even with drugs and alcohol he never been convinced to do anything that he felt would relinquish his authority.

Control was something only Lionel knew how to snatch away from him.

Until now. Until Clark.

But it wasn't about control with him and Clark. For them it had been about trust, need, oh, christ, the need. He knew Clark had felt the need. Fucking across the floor of a room? Ending up so raw and emotional? The kisses? The gentle eyes?

He scolded himself. They meant nothing. How many times had he himself been able to convince, seduce, capture a young lady or lad with his own lips, his own mouth, his own dark haunted eyes? And his words.

"Do you want this?"

Lex winced. Those words coming from Clark, so simply erotic, because Clark was a good boy and good boys with pretty mouths and the sweetest eyes on Earth- Well, they didn't say things like that. They weren't supposed to be suggestive, they were supposed to blush and turn away from hard sex and lust, and animal rage. But oh, Clark hadn't. And it had been amazing. But would he screw Lana in the same manner? No, because with Lana there would be love, gentle caring. Sweet affection.

He had never been on the other side of emotionless sex, heartless copulation. How could he have been so fucking stupid? Of course Clark was still in love with the little, brunette princess. How long had the boy been craving her? Too long. The only things that Lex could equate with a wait that long was the anticipation of his father's death and this delay called life, wherein at the end he had hope of once again seeing his mother.

No. Not stupid. Just still naive. Clark had moved within him after all, had penetrated his body, soul, and mind. He wasn't really stupid to think, for a while, that this had been more than just sex. That this had been as Earth-shattering and world-building for Clark as it had for him. Clark didn't seem the type for a quick lay then run. He didn't seem like Lex and Lionel and how many other descendants shared the same tactics.

"What the hell are you doing, Clark?"
"Responding."

Clark didn't seem the type, but that's was all it was. Didn't seem. Of course it wasn't stupid to think that Clark had feelings for him. This was the teen farmboy that he had fallen in love with. His first mistake. His second had been continuing the friendship. It had made him vulnerable, it had made him weak and submissive. The longing for the innocent kid had made him blind.

Well, maybe not so innocent, after all. Not if he would have sex, incredibly rough and exposed and raw thrusting copulation with Lex just on the basis of responding.

Twice.

And Clark was not stupid. He knew who Lex was, knew what the rumors of his past contained, probably knew what he had done. The theory of Lana had brought Clark here, ready to ask Lex for a favor and Lex had moved on him. Clark, desperate for a little physicality, had jumped on the opportunity, thinking that this was just another sexual escapade for the Luthor files.

"Lex!"

A hand gripped his arm and he looked up, realizing that not only was he just finishing putting on his pants, but a still naked Clark was trying to get him to pay attention.

His eyes narrowed in sorrow and anger at the gorgeous face in front of him. That beautiful lower lip. "What?"

Clark turned around and grabbed his own pants, and for a second Lex thought he was just going to get dressed and leave, not wanting to be talked to the way Lex was speaking to him. Lex was disgusted at himself to find that he longed for the boy to stay, that he desperately wanted, needed to be in those strong and warm arms.  The arms that love another.

That love another, Lex.

Then Clark pulled out a letter and offered it to him, throwing his pants back on the floor.

Why isn't he getting dressed? I wish he'd just fucking get dressed. I don't care how much farmwork he does. A body like that should be illegal. Everything about that should be illegal.

He took the letter recognizing his own handwriting on the envelope and frowned. "What's this?"

Clark looked bewildered. "You don't remember?"

Lex strained but he couldn't. He closed his eyes and rubbed them with his forefinger and thumb. Don't water up, don't water up, please, eyes, just don't. water. up. "Been a weird day." His voice cracked. Fuck. "Enlighten me, Kent."

"It's 'Clark', Lex."

He opened his eyes and saw the hurt expression on Clark's face, confusing him deeply. Maybe Clark wasn't as dark and conniving and twisted as him. Maybe he wanted the friendship to remain. Lex wanted to be able to wish that he had never touched the boy, never ran his hands through the black satin on top, felt Clark coming inside of him, heard the boy yell his name, but everything had been so wonderful, to dreamlike perfection. Even the pain, the sweet, mellow throbbing, was wonderful. He didn't want it to be gone, didn't want it to have never happened.

His father had always taught him to be careful what he wished for. And Lex always was. So he wished that he had never wished for Clark and a soul of his own. Because the two were intertwined, and fate was laughing as she taught the Luthor a lesson, showing him that he'd never get either. Without Clark, he'd have no use for a soul.

The pain was still evident in the green eyes before him and he cursed himself for causing it, even though his own internal agonies were most assuredly worse. "I'm sorry, Clark." he said softy. "It's just..." he trailed off not knowing what to say.

Clark nodded. "Open it."

He did and saw a small piece of paper with his handwriting proclaiming "Sorry about the first try. Never give up. A second chance with you has got to be a sure bet, especially with these. -Lex"

He remembered.  The tickets to the Metropolis Exhibit. Of course. He had sent the tickets to Clark after hearing that Lana had to cancel on Whitney and run the flower shop on the weekend and in the afternoons while Nell took off, sick.

He looked up at Clark, questioning and wary. "She didn't want to go?"

"Well, actually, I didn't. Not with her."

Lex frowned. This wasn't... This wasn't what he had been expecting. "You didn't- even ask her?"

Clark shook his head.

Lex breathed in and his eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

"I've been losing feelings for her ever since-" He cut himself off as he looked down and flushed, suddenly realizing just how underdressed he was. Lex with his unbuttoned, but zipped slacks and opened shirt and him in his birthday suit.

Didn't he know how annoying these little cryptic answers were? How intensely Lex's attention was focused on him and that the older boy's heart was being held captive by the hands of some Roman deity, ready to pummel at the completion of Clark's every word? "Since what?"

Clark shrugged and met Lex's eyes, suddenly very confident, very sure despite his embarrassment mere milliseconds ago at being nude. "I'm in love with someone else, Lex."

His heart pounded, his stomach felt heavy and he flushed. Clark couldn't be saying, couldn't be telling him...

Oh, please, please, please...

"Who?" he asked breathlessly.

"Chloe," Clark answered seriously.

Lex's mouth dropped open, and his legs trembled. "What? You can't..." His knees gave out and he started to collapse.

Clark pounced, moving so fast- how the hell?- that Lex never hit the floor. "Lex? Shit, Lex?"

Lex clenched his teeth and eyes shut, hating his fucking weakness, wanting to hate Clark, trying to push away from the boy's crazy glue grip. "Chloe?" he hissed. "I never saw that coming."

Clark shook his head. "That's because I was kidding. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought you would know, I thought you could tell-" He stopped there, pulling Lex's mouth to his.

Lex had never been so confused. Everything was so wrong and so right. He pushed away from Clark.

"What?"

Lex swallowed and met Clark's green eyes with his gray-blue ones, steely and determined. "Say the words, damn you."

Clark looked at loss for understanding. "What words?"

"Tell me that you- that you..." He couldn't finish. He didn't want to command that the three little words come from Clark. Not when his own heart screamed to commit them, his own body longed to hear them, but not forced. Not coerced. Just natural.

He stood shakily. The boy shot up beside him and watched carefully as Lex stood, Clark's physical appearance clearly stated he didn't want Lex to move by himself, but was standing away because he was unsure of Lex's current thoughts of him.

"I'm not broken, you know." Lex snapped. "I can move by myself."

Harsher than intended and, sure enough, the boy looked hurt again.

Fuck you, Luthor. Stop acting like such a bastard.

"Aren't you- a little..."

"A little?" he supplied impatiently.

"Sore?"

Ah, yes. Sore he was. Muscles ached all over. Muscles that begged to be in Clark's arms. Organs that begged to be in Clark's arms. But couldn't. He couldn't just...

Clark had as much as said that he loved you Lex, but it wasn't the same. Lex was more emotionally attached and physically couldn't say it until he heard Clark say it first. That felt so stupid, but he'd only ever said those committed words to one other person in his life, and she was gone. He wouldn't... He couldn't...

He started to turn away. Maybe he needed a little space. "Clark-" he began and was interrupted by strong hands that spun him around. Hands that were on his waist, under his shirt, thumbs caressing the smooth skin of his stomach, a forehead leaning on his, silky hair tickling his scalp, and hot, fast breath washing over his face. How could Clark be suddenly breathing so hard? It was the fastest Lex had ever seen anyone get so horny. And how was it that he never saw the boy move? Well, he was turned around this time, but...  He really had to start paying more attention. Clark moving, walking anywhere, was a sight too beautiful to miss.

"You know I do, Luthor."

The eyes were now staring down into his, and he felt as if his lungs had just collapsed into his stomach. There was a kind of needy melancholy showing through Clark, and he suddenly remembered, when he had been sitting on Clark, how the emotions shined in the boy's eyes.  Still there with a strong desire to match.

How could he have ever doubted Clark? "Do wh-what?"

Clark smiled, so close, so warm. "Love you." He slowly kissed Lex's lips, pulling at them slowly and with a tenderness that clashed with their previous actions, with the previous showing of affection.

This was love. This was how Lex would have guessed Clark would have made love to Lana. It was just a kiss, but Clark was making love to him through that kiss, saying everything and he had yet to open his mouth. Just lips. And it was all for him.

Lex's confusion, his hurt and the anger... It all disappeared, melted away beneath the heat of Clark. Anything Lex asked, Clark would answer, Clark would explain. He would explain all the bad, the confusion, the hate away.

What one kiss from this farmboy could do to him.

"I love you, Lex."

The second person in his life to say those words to him. Ever.

Whatever had been inside his chest, gripping his heart and lungs inside of him and squeezing, let go, vanishing, and Lex took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, shakily.

Goddamn his eyes. The color of Lang's necklace. Beautiful. Shimmering, incandescent emerald.

Then a mouth was on his again, this time opening up completely and all thoughts, memories, recollections vanished, save one:
 
 
 

"I love you, Lex."
 
 
 
 
 
 

FIN
 
 
 
 
 
 

Look for the sequel 'Independent Love Song' coming very soon...