Work Text:
Sometimes I wonder what causes moods like this. I haven't done drugs in God knows how long, since before I came to Smallville. But right now I feel like I've snorted a few too many lines of crystal meth and I'm flying. Doing 110 on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, cornfields a never-ending blur on either side of road, hoping like hell that I don't plow into another farmboy along the way. Because I don't really need another quarter-million dollar paperweight. Or another obsession. That's what got me into this in the first place.
Fuck.
I really hate this feeling, especially when I don't know what to do to get rid of it. I know what I'd normally do; drink until I could barely walk without stumbling then find someone and get laid. Find someone to fuck me hard and fast, ride me until I was so sore I couldn't move, couldn't sit for a week. Until we were both exhausted, limp and sweaty. Then I'd roll over to the other guy in the bed and do it all over again.
I wonder if Clark and Whitney would be interested.
Fuck.
Checking my arms for needle tracks, just to make sure, and there's nothing. Which means I didn't shoot something up and then forget about it. Just as well, as I've no idea what it could have been anyway. Work--who the hell wants to work?--is waiting for me on the computer. But if I hear one more click of the keyboard, I'm going to throw the fucking thing out the window just to watch it shatter. Pool isn't a good idea either. The cue is shaking in my hands, and I couldn't hit the ball straight to save my life. Which is... not good.
I really like playing pool.
Fuck.
Driving? Driving is not an option because I don't want to end up a bloody smear. Although I should do it, just for the pleasure of Clark's company. Somehow he knows when something's wrong and I'm driving myself crazy. Shows up with a 'Hey Lex' and some absurdly mundane thing to talk about and it's grounding, really. Only it's not. Not when half my brain is wondering if he'd rather fuck or be fucked, if he likes it hard or easy.
Speak of the devil.
"Hey, Lex."
"Hello, Clark." Pacing and stalking around him, because standing still isn't possible. Not in my state of mind. And he's right on cue with the concerned look. "What can I do for you tonight?"
"Um... nothing really. I just... I saw you earlier in town, and you didn't even notice me. You seemed... wired or something. I don't know. So when you didn't come to the barn to talk, I decided to track you down and see what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong, Clark." Nothing that a nice long fuck couldn't cure. And I really, really don't think that you want to help me with that. But you're so sweet, Clark. Sweet for wanting to help.
"Lex, come on. How long have we known each other? I know something's bothering you; I just don't know what it is. Maybe if you'll talk about it, you'll feel better."
"Do you know why I used to go to Club Zero, Clark?" Ask him about Zero, because it's the only one he knows and is probably the tamest of the ones I went to.
"I guess to dance. Drink. Stuff like that."
"To fuck." And oh, the amazement. "That's right, Clark. I went there to fuck. To *get* fucked. To drink, to get high, and then get fucked."
"Wow. Um... is that what's wrong? Do you... miss that?"
"Miss it? No, not really." How could you miss something like that? "Want it? I want something like it, Clark. Do you know what it's like to be suddenly caged up for no reason other than someone else's whim? Where it's not even your choice anymore? You're just stunned, roped, crated, and shipped off like an animal. Dropped in your new cage with all its empty rooms and no other animal like you to keep you company. Just... yourself. Caged up and denied." I stopped pacing to stare at Clark and see what he has to say.
"I... Oh."
"Oh." Yeah. That was one reaction. Not the stripping down to his bare ass and offering it to me reaction that I'd hoped for, but 'Oh' was good too. "I don't hate it in Smallville, Clark... I just feel trapped. I want out. I need out. I need to do something. Sharpen my claws and my teeth and roar." I start stalking and pacing again, and on cue I see more concern radiating from my poor innocent boy. "Do you think I'm losing my mind Clark?"
"What?"
"Do you think I'm losing my mind? Because I think I am. Although I've been told that people who are demented rarely believe they are. So if I think I'm crazy, I'm not."
"Frighteningly enough, Lex... that makes sense. Come on."
"Come on? Where are we going?"
"I don't know, Lex. You're taking us there."
"Us?"
"You don't think I'm going to let you do this alone, do you?"
"Clark... you don't know what you're saying. I'm not... your Lex."
"Yes, you are. You're always my Lex, no matter what kind of problems you're having. So... come on. Let's go. Wherever."
And wasn't he full of surprises tonight. I know what he's thinking, God, I need to get out of his head and out of my own for that matter. He's too damned innocent. He thinks that if he comes along with me he can stop me from doing this. But he can't. All he can do is sit along for the ride because I can't be stopped. I won't be stopped. He's mine.
"Last chance to go home, Clark." Last chance to escape. Run while you still can, my friend.
"I'm not going anywhere without you, Lex."
Good. Then he's mine for the taking. Or I'm his for the taking. Whatever. Guttural noises as I head towards the door but at the last second, I throw my weight against him, hands on his chest shoving him backwards. I want to shock him. I want him to know who he's dealing with tonight. It feels like hitting a brick wall, and I shake my hands before rocking back on my heels. I want him. Even if I have to force him into my life, I want Clark.
And he's not even reacting. Fuck him. He's not even reacting to me, not saying a word, and Goddammit to hell anyway. I will get him to react, and my fist flies, solid blow that should have landed on his jaw but is trapped in his hand instead.
"Lex? I'm... I can do anything you need me to do. Be anything." He doesn't even bother to ask me what's going on; instead he offers. Fuck him! And God I want to. He lets me go and I swing again. He doesn't try to stop me, doesn't even flinch. My fist lands hard in his gut and before I can jerk away his arms are around me. Holding me tightly to his chest, mouth at my ear. "Lex, please. Let me... let me be here for you."
Everything is quiet. Even the blood rushing through my veins is muted and he's cradling me like I'm the world's most precious treasure. Just as I get used to this new feeling, one hand captures mine, brings it to his lips. He's pressing soft kisses to the bruises, whispering against my fingers but fuck if I can make it out. But it's helping to feel his lips against my skin because it's Clark. My Clark. Then he raises his other hand, cradling the back of my head as he presses it softly against his shoulder. Christ, I want him so much. But I can't. "Let--let me go, Clark."
"No, Lex. I'm won't let you go. I'm not going to let you go ever again. I won't let you be alone anymore."
And before I can say anything else, his arms tighten around me and I'm crying. He's rocking me and soothing me, voice rumbling in my ear, and I'm so tired. I still can't figure out what he's saying, but in my head somewhere I know what it is. He's telling me what he told me before; that he loves me, he'll give me whatever I need, that I'll never be alone again. "I'm yours, Clark."
He shouldn't be able to move me and carry me, but he does and it's just too much to argue against. His body is solid against mine, his chest broad and warm as he tucks me against it. The scenery that passes by is nauseatingly fast, and it all blurs together as we end up somewhere that's all Clark's and nothing of mine. Which is just what I need, and I don't want to know how he knows these things. We're in the barn, only I've never been in this part before, up in the high rafters of the haymow.
Without hesitation, he lays us down on the surprisingly soft hay, trapping my legs between his as I burrow against him. He pulls a blanket over us, and he snuggles us deep into the straw. This should be ridiculous, Lex Luthor sleeping in a hayloft. Only it's not, because Clark is here. It's another one of those things he knows I need. He's waiting for me to sleep, touching me gently and murmuring to me. Not waiting to see if I will, but knowing I will and waiting for when. I hate being cosseted like a child, and especially by Clark. Fuck him for knowing me better than I know myself.
But that's just not something I can do. I can love him but I can never fuck him. I can never be anything casual with Clark, and that is what's really killing me. I need casual because I'm not ready for anything else, and my Clark is everything but casual. I can love him and touch him. I can take him for my own, but I can never just use him.
"Stop thinking so loud," he says, his tone quietly playful. "Just sleep, Lex. You need to sleep, and I won't leave you."
Damn him. He's everything I need him to be and nothing I want him to be. Or is he everything I want and nothing I need? Or both? Everything I need and everything I want wrapped into one package. Whatever he is, I have to make him mine. And with that thought, sleep does finally come as he holds me tightly cocooned in his warmth.
~ FIN ~