Chapter Three: I Only Want to be with You

Wednesday afternoon, after the farmwork had been finished and they'd all eaten an early dinner, Clark's father took off for a farming convention up in Glensdale.  Jonathon would be gone until Monday, leaving the farmwork to Martha and Clark- mostly Clark- meaning, despite even his quick speed and incredible strength, his schedule would be more tied up than usual.

Thursday came and the only thing he could think of was seeing Lex again.  All day he'd been just a little more out of it than what was quickly becoming the norm.  By not paying enough attention to things he really should have, he started a slight chain of reaction.  Pouring milk into his bowl of cereal, he had become distracted while staring out the window and thinking of Lex, causing the milk to overflow, his mother to watch him instead of the food disposal and drop a spoon into the sink.  He also lagged behind, not hearing any of the school bells- with the exception of the last, the one he'd waited for since he got there- and made Pete and Chloe late in two separate incidents. Both had been trying to get him to tell them what was keeping him so distracted, worried for their all-of-a-sudden scatter-brained friend.

He couldn't find his homework, forgot his locker combination temporarily, alternately fidgeted and stared off into space, wasn't hungry for lunch, but was starving in his last period, and was all too tempted to just run home instead of taking the bus.  Then there was the almost forgetting every bit of produce but the batch for Luthor Manor.

It had been a hectic day for Clark, full of mistakes and tension.  At the same time that it had been far too long, there were scary little chunks of time that seemed to be missing, points in his day that he just couldn't account for.  Like his entire math class and the ten minutes before first bell.

Still, he just couldn't care.  It had been a week, a whole week since he'd seen Lex, touched him, and it was not surprising that it was impossible for him to concentrate on anything else.

And for him to stop grinning.

He began his deliveries earlier than usual, surprising every one of his parents' customers but easily accounting for the odd timeframe by way of his father's absence.  Farmers or landowners themselves, they understood that, due to the business trip and lack of extra hands around the Kent farm, there was the need to get more things done quicker.  The fact that the majority of the customers helped Clark move the produce in effect lessened the time he'd have to spend away from Lex and he reached the castle almost a full forty-five minutes early, a little bummed but not at all surprised when Lex did not eventually make his way down to see him.

After dropping off the produce in the kitchen, he took off, heading up wide stairwells and through echoing corridors towards Lex's study.  Halfway there, he broke into a large grin and a brisk trot and didn't stop until he reached the double doors. Still grinning like an idiot, he braced himself for the sight he'd waited a week to see, the skin he'd waited a week to feel.  The lips and mouth and body he'd waited a week to taste.

Would he just outright attack Lex?  Bring them both down to the floor in a hectic mixture of limbs and other various body parts, laughing like a manic set free?  Would he rip off the expensive clothes in hopes of turning his lover on immediately and getting to that body as quick as possible?  Or would he take it slower?  More seductive?  Make Lex beg, plead and scream his name?

That is, if he wasn't on his knees, arms wrapped around the older boy the very instant he saw him.

God, he wanted Lex so badly.

He reached out and knocked, a bit more timidly than he'd intended and when he pulled back his hand, he saw that it was shaking.

"Wow," he whispered.

Hearing contentious voices rise on the other side of the large oak doors, he frowned and his stomach churned as he recognized one as Lex's and the other as-

~Lionel's.~

He'd seen enough CNN to know that voice when he heard it, though it felt oddly surreal hearing it without it's usual accompaniment- his father's heated objections to whatever the man was saying.

"Great," he muttered.  His little plan to come early so he and Lex would have more time together had failed miserably.  He should have remembered how busy the boy always was.

All of that rushing for nothing.  It made him feel like just sinking to the floor, forming a small Clark-puddle.

~Fucking Lionel bastard shit.~

He heard Lex's voice growing closer and closer, and he was becoming more lightheaded at knowing that the older boy's body, a body that he had committed to, the blue eyes that he had constantly caught himself drowning in, were just on the other side of the study doors and that oh, god in just a few seconds he's see that face, that gorgeous, commanding face.

This was so confusing.  He was angry, but-

Clark felt his pants restricting his lower proportions, and felt embarrassed and inappropriate, but he couldn't help it.  He needed Lex.  Needed to touch him.  To hold him.  To bury himself inside, hearing Lex's moans, his whimpers.  His 'please'.

He heard the footsteps approaching behind the oak doors.

The last thing he'd said to Lex Luthor was "I love you."

He heard the footsteps stop.

The last thing he'd truly discussed with Lex Luthor was the older boy's naked body.

He heard the soft click of the latch above the handle.

The last thing Clark had expected to find today was Lionel Luthor.

The door opened and Clark held his breath.

Lex, his face a mask of anger and distaste, hatred and cold impatience, opened the door.  Utter menace.

Clark was transported back to the Tuesday that Lex and he had first had sex.  This was the way he had looked mere seconds before he kissed Clark.  The same way he'd looked the day he'd come back from Metropolis, come back from a week with his father.  How long did it take that man to turn Lex into a roiling ball of anxiety and tension?  What exactly did he do to cause the rapid transformation?

"What is it?"  Lex snapped before even looking out at Clark.  When his eyes met Clark's though, he gasped slightly and all hatred, all threat dissolved.  Clark watched as they were replaced by a look of love and relief and overall simple joy.

That was the look he needed to memorize.  He needed to capture that in his head.  He needed remember that for whenever he was away.  He needed-

He needed to breathe.

"Clark!"  Lex's voice was hushed as he quickly stepped out into the hall, closing the door and looking both left and right before grabbing Clark's jacket and pulling him in for a quick kiss.  Clark watched as Lex looked him up and down hungrily.  He knew that his own gaze was just as scorching.

Lex left his hand to linger on Clark's chest while checking his watch on the other wrist, fingers scratching the cotton material gently as if unconsciously trying to dig to the skin.  Clark smiled at the intimate touch.

"You're really early."

He looked down at the hand touching him so sweetly.  "I'm sorry, I just wanted to be with you," he whispered, not caring how lame or needy he sounded.  A week was so fucking long.  Too fucking long.  Not even for sex, but just any contact, speech and sight.

"Don't be sorry, Clark."

"I finished everything I could early so that we'd have time together, but-"

Lex, using his hand to balance on Clark, reached up and kissed him, interrupting his words.  A fierce but concise kiss, Lex was stepping back all too soon, smoothing his hand slightly up and down Clark's chest before letting it come to rest over Clark's heart.  "I wish I could just-"  He started rubbing at his temples with his free fingers.  "Goddamn it, though, Clark.  My- My father's here.  Fuck."

"I know.  I recognized the voice."  Clark pulled Lex's hand to it's counterpart on his chest and used both of his own to massage the older boy's temples for him.

Lex looked confused.  "You could hear us?"  He leaned lightly back against the door, closing his eyes as Clark continued the soothing rhythm of the mini shiatsu, hoping to alleviate his lover of any ailments.  "Nevermind."  He sighed, content for the moment.  "It doesn't matter."

They were silent a moment as the contact persisted.  Then Clark, hating to break the moment, but knowing it would have to be violated soon anyway, spoke.  "Do you want me to go?"

"No."

He smiled.  "Do I need to go?"

Lex sighed, this time in frustration.  "I don’t know how long he plans on staying, but I think it's…"  Lex opened his eyes, refusing to meet Clark's.  "I think it's too long.  For you to wait.  I- I wouldn't make you wait for him."

There was a dark protectiveness in that voice, a feeling that Lex was defending Clark's honor and pride before his own, and Clark's heart jumped in his chest.  He dropped his hands to the door on each side of his best friend and tilted his forehead till it touched Lex's.  They just stood there looking into each other's eyes, seeing the painful yearning that made everything so easy to take, but at the same time more difficult.

"Alexander?"

"A minute, Father," Lex replied hastily.

"Fuck,"  Clark whispered, surprising Lex, and pulling away slightly but not dropping his arms.  "I hate that man."

If his crude choice in words had surprised Lex, it was nothing compared to the shock he received hearing the chuckle issue forth from his love.

Lex gave him a brief kiss and pushed him away.  “I’ll just be a moment, then I’ll walk you out.”

Lex opened the door a crack but stopped as Clark grazed his arm.

“Do you want me to come in or-”

Lex looked distressed.  “No,” he whispered.  “I don’t think you-”

“I’m not afraid of him, Lex.”  With that Clark pushed the door the rest of the way open and Lex nodded.  They walked into the room and Clark had to fight to keep his facial expressions and body language nonchalant.  The bastard was sitting behind the desk.  In Lex's seat.

"Father," Lex began.  "This is Clark Kent.  A friend."

Lionel nodded curtly, an eyebrow raising.  "Son of Jonathon and Martha Kent?"

"Yes, sir," Clark said, amazed at how little venom was seething through, at how calm he sounded in front of the man who turned his lover and best friend into a walking cloud of sadness and uncertainty.  The man that taught Lex how to hate.

"I knew Jonathon.  We were- acquaintances."

That was not what he was expecting.

"I could have sworn your mother and father were- unable to bear."  Smug and spiteful undertones while bringing up a great pain for the Kent family.  Something not everyone knew about, but lavish merchant king Lionel Luthor did.

Clark realized he was going to have to have a talk with his father as soon as he got back from Glensdale.

The bastard was smiling at Clark, his cheap jacket, old flannel work-clothes and dirty, scuffed shoes clashing horribly with the opulent, five-digit room decor.  Smiling at what he must have seen as a homeless mutt, no bloodline, no name.

Smiling at the fact that Martha was barren, something that still haunted her, just enough to darken her bright eyes, to tint her hair with gray earlier than nature would have otherwise intended.  At the fact that Clark was distanced by flesh and blood within his own family, that he was an outsider even with whom he felt the closest.  That Clark did not belong.

~Shit-head.~

Clark clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes and saw Lex wince at his father's bluntness.  The older boy put a hand on his forearm- a friendly and not at all sexual gesture, but nonetheless one that the senior Luthor did not miss- and spoke for his friend.  "Clark's adopted."

Lionel's lips pulled up into a strikingly familiar half smile.

~Lex smiles like that, only his smile is sexy and sweet and often amiably mocking.~

"He'd have to be."

So Jonathon's distaste for Luthors was paralleled by Lionel's distaste for Kents.  Wonderful.

Clark could see Lex looking at him from the corner of his eye.  "I'm going to show Clark out."

"We have people to do that, Alexander."

"Yes, but I was-"

"And we were discussing important business.  Your 'friend' can wait."

Clark thought he heard a certain implication suddenly riding the waves of hostility circulating in the room, but it could have just been his imagination.

"He was just leaving.  It'll only take a minute."  Despite the fact that they were constructed as statements, there was an element of supplication in Lex’s sentences, and he stood patiently waiting for permission to be granted.

Lionel waved at them, dismissive and superior.

Lex, with the comforting weight of his hand still in place, guided Clark out and closed the door behind him.  Once out of the office, they started walking in the direction that would eventually bring them to the foyer.

Lex's hand glided down, fingers slipping in between Clark's and he tugged on the boy.  "Slow down.”

His voice was soft with obvious concern, and it, instead of the hand, slowed Clark.  "But don’t you have to-"

"Get back?”  Lex shook his head.  “He can wait."

"But won't he be pissed?"

Lex shrugged.  "It's worth it."

Clark shook his head, thinking about the utter chill, distaste and lack of respect that had seeped from Lionel's waspish voice towards his own kid.  "Nothing is worth that."

Lex stopped and pulled Clark to a halt beside him.  "You are,"  he said and the shyness there winded Clark, causing a spiral of warmth to cascade inside his stomach.  Lex lifted himself up and brushed his lips against Clark's.  "I'm so sorry about what he said back there, Clark.  He gets off on stupid shit like that, and it's worse because you're your father's son and my friend.  He needs to prove he has power over everyone and if he knew how much I really cared about you…"  Lex trailed off, watching crimson tint Clark at his utterance of sentiments.  "I'm really sorry."

Clark rolled his eyes and grinned, hoping to rid Lex of his apologetic inclination.  He wasn't his father, couldn't control the man, and it wasn't his fault that Lionel had gone for the jugular.

Clark pulled on the hand in his, bringing Lex closer.  "If my father ever says all Luthor's are the same, I'll-"

Lex kissed him again, sweeter, with more longing than before and this time Clark parted beneath him, running his tongue over Lex's heavenly, full lips.

The older boy pulled away.  "Uh-uh, Kent.  I learn from my mistakes.  The last thing I need to do is walk into the study with a hard-on after being later than I should, hanging out with the hated Kents' son.  Lionel'd be on the phone to your father quicker than you could possibly imagine."

Clark grinned.  "My dad's out of town."  His eyes lit up, a sudden idea burning bright in his mind.  "Is your dad staying overnight?"

Lex laughed coldly.  "Not unless he's had a recent lobotomy I've not been informed of."

Clark beamed.  "Then why don't you come to dinner tonight?"
 
 
 
 
 

To be continued...