Title: Force of Nature

Author: SugarRush

Pairing: Lex/Alex Krycek, Lex/Clark/Alex Krycek, Lex/Clark.

Smallville/XF crossover.

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: Smallville pilot, probably other eps. Assume all of them.

Spoilers for X-Files as well.

Warnings: In my universe, Lex Luthor has body hair, and Alex Krycek has two arms. That's just the way it is. Deal with it.

Acknowledgments: To Mistress Ace, plot-goddess and beta extraordinaire, for fine beta and IRC brainstorming sessions above and beyond the call of duty. You da bomb, babe. J

Feedback: Greatly appreciated, at: dnivling@redshift.com

Force of Nature
By Sugar Rush

Saturday morning, and the air held that last lick of warmth reserved for the end of Indian summer. Clark whistled along with the radio, tapping a light rhythm on the truck's steering wheel as he keyed in the security code at the Luthor mansion's front gate. He made his way down the long driveway, and was just about to swing around back to the kitchen when something caught his eye.

Something that nearly had him punching the brake through the floorboards. Something sleek and black with chrome that shone like a fresh-minted dime. A '65 Mustang.

"Wow," he breathed, putting the truck in park, scrambling out. Three reverent steps and he was reaching out and touching it, running his palm gingerly over the hood like he was afraid it would disappear in a puff of smoke. Lex hadn't mentioned anything about a new car. Then again, Lex had more cars than most people had pairs of clean socks. To be honest, it wasn't exactly Lex's style -- classic and sporty rather than foreign and expensive. More his own Dad's style, in fact.

Black paint, chrome trim, black ragtop -- and leather seats, Clark saw, peering through the half-open passenger-side window. The door was unlocked, but he still darted a furtive glance around to make sure he was alone before ducking inside, settling his large frame in the front passenger's seat. Oh, man. Comfortable as Dad's favorite living room chair.

His fingers drifted over, idly caressing the gearshift. This was just way too cool. Maybe Lex would let him take it for a spin.

Grabbing the crate of produce he'd come to deliver, he practically super-speeded his way down the hallway to Lex's office. "Hey, Lex, when'd you get the Mustang? Mind if I take it out--"

And he stopped dead, digging in his heels so hard he was sure he'd left gouges in the floor. Lex wasn't alone.

Clark didn't recognize the guy hovering beside Lex like a tall dark-haired storm cloud, but it was plain he'd interrupted something. The guy stepped back slightly, but still kept one hand on Lex's shoulder, half-holding, half-caressing.

Clark had the sudden twitchy feeling that he was witnessing a demonstration of the international signal for "Mine!" Instant heat flooded his cheeks, and other, lower places.

The crate wobbled in his suddenly slippery grip, and he bent to set it on the floor, tugging his flannel shirt down as he straightened.

And was it his imagination, or did Lex's mouth look swollen and wet?

Of course, Lex being Lex, he barely missed a beat regaining his composure. "Clark, I'd like you to meet an old friend of mine, Alex Krycek. Alex, this is Clark Kent."

Clark had become fairly fluent in Lex-speak over the past year; 'old friend,' roughly translated, meant 'someone I've fucked in the past who turns up every now and then so we can fuck some more.' Clark suppressed a sigh. Lex was the only person he knew whose 'old friends' all looked like Playboy centerfolds -- or, in this case, an older version of James Dean in serious badass mode.

It was all he could do to keep from speeding back to the truck when Alex sidled up to him, hand extended. "A pleasure," Alex said, with a tiny quirk of his lips that left Clark with no doubt as to where Lex got his ironic smirk. But his grip was firm and sincere, and so were his eyes. Clark has never seen such a startling shade of green -- deep and muted, like the leaves on his mother's rose bushes, flecked with gold and gray. "By the way, that's *my* Mustang you're drooling over."

Well, that figured. He matched the car, black from head to toe. Harley boots, tight jeans, dress shirt open at the throat, leather jacket. Short-cropped hair the color of dark, warm smoke. Fingerless leather driving gloves, which he was just now slipping on.

"It's, um...intense," Clark stammered. "The car, I mean." God, that was lame.

"You have no idea." That smirk again. Lex had obviously taken lessons from the master. "Right now, though, I've got some business in town. Dinner tonight, Lex?"

"Of course. Eight o'clock?"

"I'll be here. Nice meeting you, kid," he added with a wink, heading for the door. "Anytime you want a ride, just let me know."

More heat, rushing everywhere. Clark's face felt like a burning barn. "I-I don't remember seeing him around here before."

Lex pushed back his chair and sat down, hitting the startup key on his PowerBook. Another smirk, only it looked decidedly gentler on Lex's lips. "Alex is like a force of nature. He only manages to blow through my life once every couple of years, but when he does, everything else grinds to a halt."

"Where do you know him from?"

"Metropolis. Met him when I was about your age. He got me out of a bad situation once upon a time."

"What kind of bad situation?"

Lex looked intently at the computer screen, then back up at Clark, all without lifting his head. "You're awfully curious today."

Lex-speak translation: 'none of your damn business.' Okay, fine.

Sighing, Clark scooped up the crate again. "I'd better get this stuff down to the kitchen. Guess this means 'Pearl Harbor' on the big-screen's out for tonight."

A momentarily blank look, and then he remembered. "I'm sorry, Clark," Lex said quietly, getting up from the desk. Well, at least he *sounded* sincerely apologetic. "With Alex showing up out of the blue like this, it completely slipped my mind."

Disappointment coupled with annoyance flashed through him, but Clark tamped it down. No point making a big deal out of it. "No problem. Pete and Chloe said something about hanging out at the Talon tonight anyway. I can always tag along with them."

"We could do the movie tomorrow night."

"Sunday's a school night, Lex." He was at the office door now, and itching to be through it. The last few minutes were starting to feel like that classic nightmare of finding yourself in a public place stark naked. Lex was too damn good at reading him, and Clark wasn't about to give him any more opportunities. Not right now.

"Clark..."

But he was already heading for the kitchen, a relieved breath hissing past his teeth. Narrow escape.

He was halfway home before he realized he was pissed that Lex hadn't come after him.

* * *

Dinner was relaxed and casual for a change -- steak, salad and a fine cabernet. Lex dismissed the house staff for the rest of the evening, then leaned back in his chair, listening, sipping his wine. He rolled his neck, vertebrae cracking, muscles loosening, willing himself into a state of warm relaxation. He'd long since stopped trying to decipher the truth-to-bullshit ratio in Alex's tales of government conspiracy and black-ops intrigue. Tonight he just wanted to revel in the sheer implausibility of it; anything to keep his mind off the plant for a few hours. Tonight he just wanted to be entertained.

And Alex was nothing if not entertaining.

Even when he was kicking Lex's ass at pool. "So where'd you get the farmboy?" Alex queried, lining up another shot. "He looks like he walked out of the L.L. Bean catalog."

"Clark? He's a good friend, that's all."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. What else would he be?"

"Funny," Alex smirked. "Isn't that what you told him *I* was?"

"Are you going to stand there all night making pointed innuendoes, or are you going to take your shot?"

"No need to get touchy."

"Alex," Lex warned.

"Did you see the look on his face when he saw us this morning? Saw *you*?" Alex circled the table, stalking it with a panther-like grace and intensity that left Lex doubting he'd get another turn anytime this century. Nine ball, corner pocket. Lex stifled a groan. "I could see his hard-on from across the room."

"He's sixteen. He gets hard from looking at linoleum."

"Reminds me of a certain sixteen-year-old I used to know."

"I've got all the fuck buddies I need. Clark's rarer than that."

"Uh-huh." Leaning in, long slow sweep of tongue over his throat, jawline and earlobe that never failed to make Lex tremble.

Breath sucked in, sharp as jagged glass. "Jesus, Alex..."

"You were saying something about fuck buddies?"

Suddenly boneless, Lex felt the bite of the table edge against the back of his thighs, head falling back, leaving his throat exposed, vulnerable. Soft lips teased, nipped at the throbbing artery just
below Lex's jawline, sucking, biting down hard enough to make him yelp. Hard enough to mark him.

So hard. So good.

"C'mon, Lex, I know jealousy when I see it," Alex purred. "If he'd glared at me any harder he would've burned a hole right through me."

"Stop it."

"When did you develop scruples, Lex? You want him. Take him."

"It's not that simple."

"It is, if you want it to be." A deep kiss, Lex's mouth going soft, pliant, vision blurring, the whole world taking on a pleasant haze around the edges. "But if not, you know I'm adaptable."

Lex gasped. "Bedroom. *Now.*"

* * *

Clark kicked back in the hammock, idly spinning and tossing a basketball, moping. He'd been in an antsy, irritable mood all day, so much so that he and his Dad had come to harsh words over the way Clark had been tossing sacks of feed into the back of the truck. He didn't really get what the big deal was; the truck had plenty of dents in it already.

Still, he'd been grateful when the day's work was finished and dinner over with, even though he had nothing else planned for that evening. He'd already called Pete and told him he wouldn't be meeting up with him and Chloe at the Talon later on. He could tell from Pete's voice that his friend was confused and hurt at the lame excuse Clark had offered, but at the moment all Clark had cared about was getting off the damn phone.

Now, though, guilt was starting to creep in. He really should call Pete back and apologize, but for some reason he couldn't scrape up the energy to do anything but toss the ball higher. A flick of his wrist had it bumping the barn's highest rafter, sending down a sprinkle of leaves and dust. Clark grinned.

It was the first thing he'd smiled at since that morning.

Of course, he knew why he was in such a bad mood. He'd known all day, he just hadn't wanted to think about it. What he couldn't figure out was why Lex's canceling their movie plans had made him so angry; it wasn't like it was the first time Lex had had something else come up
at the last minute.

Difference was, this time it was some*one* else, not some*thing* else. That guy Alex. All he'd had to do was show up and suddenly for all Lex cared, Clark might as well not even exist--

The ball hit the barn roof with a crash, bouncing off the rafters on the way down, landing close enough to the telescope to send it teetering. Fuck! Bolting from the hammock, Clark grabbed the telescope and righted it, giving the basketball a mild kick down the stairs. Close call.

Clark fingered the telescope wistfully, a fine film of dust coming off on his hand. He hadn't been doing much stargazing these days -- or Lana-gazing, either. To be honest, Lana had pretty much faded from his fantasies over the past few months. He still liked her, and enjoyed being with her, but not with the butterfly-stomach anticipation he used to have.

Not like the way he felt when he was with Lex.

And that same twisted, dropped-down-twenty-stories feeling he used to get whenever he saw Lana with Whitney was the same feeling he was having now, remembering Lex with that guy Alex...

"Clark!" His mother's voice called from downstairs, startling him. How had she crept up on him without him hearing her? He really was preoccupied. "I need you to make another delivery up to the Luthors."

He made an exasperated sound, checking his watch. "It's late. Can't I do it in the morning?"

"No, you can't. They're out of apples and peaches for breakfast, and apparently Lex has a guest this weekend." Yeah, like he needed reminding. "So get your jacket on and get going."

He didn't bother using the truck; speeding up to the mansion on foot took less time anyway. Dropping into a normal walk as he neared the kitchen door, he gave a quick courtesy knock before going in.

The kitchen was deserted. Weird. Even more weird, all the lights were out, except for the dim night light over the stove. He would've thought there'd be someone here to take the stuff and put it away. Instead, it looked like all the servants had gone to bed.

The dining room was empty too, though it had obviously been used this evening; the table still hadn't been cleared from dinner. He poked his head inside Lex's office; nobody there either. Okay, this was starting to get seriously creepy.

He half-speeded up the stairs, taking them three at a time, choking on his own heartbeat when he saw the pale nimbus of light edging Lex's bedroom door. Muffled sounds -- a soft thump, then a muffled voice -- no, muffled *voices,* two of them.

A deep, strangled sound. "Clark! God!"

Lex's voice.

Lex calling his name usually equated to Lex in danger, and after the guys who could walk through walls, there was no way Clark wouldn't respond. And respond quickly. He hit the door so hard he felt the heavy wood groan and swing inward, then skidded to a halt, staring. Wondering why his brain didn't explode.

Lex's bed. Lex and Alex lying there together, both naked, one pale, the other somehow dark and golden at the same time, entwined on soft black sheets. Lex's eyes closed, lids fluttering, head thrown back, Alex kissing a trail down his throat and chest. Alex's hand encircling Lex's erect cock, stroking.

Lex's voice moaning, "Clark!"

Alex glanced up, not missing a beat. "What're you waiting for, farmboy? An engraved invitation?"

Backing up a couple of tangle-footed steps, Clark banged into the bureau right next to the door, wincing at the faint sound of cracking plaster as it made contact with the wall. Fuck!

"Clark?" Lex again, this time slightly more coherent. His eyes were open now, in a half-dreamy, unfocused way, and he was reaching out in Clark's direction. "Where you going?"

Oh, God. There was fire everywhere, in his face, his brain, his cock. Behind his eyes. Clark shut them tightly for a moment, breathing slow and deep, panic finally subsiding along with the intense burning sensation. He would *not* lose control, not here, not now...

Reeled in by Lex's voice, moving like a sleepwalker, Clark approached the bed, sitting on the edge closest to Lex. Who was lying back against the dark linens again, lips parted, wet, eyelids at half-mast, breath coming shallow, thready.

Clark's glance flicked to Alex. Something was wrong here. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine, he just popped a 'Lude. Helps him relax."

"Oh."

"You want one?"

"No! I just don't..."

"Hey, take it easy," Alex said softly, a surprisingly gentle hand on his shoulder. Lex's fingers brushed Clark's hand, unfurling his own fingers from a fist Clark wasn't even aware he'd been making. Lex's thumb pressing his palm, fingers wrapping around his own. Lex looked up at him again, a silent plea, gray irises swallowed up in black.

He was *gone,* Clark realized, reaching up to cup Lex's face, stroke his cheek with the pad of his thumb. Stoned, flying high. Lost in a fantasy.

A fantasy about *him.*

Warm breath on his own cheek, Alex's mouth at his ear. "Get undressed."

He didn't need to be asked twice. It took all his willpower not to speed through it, but he managed to get stripped in record time anyway, letting his clothes fall to the floor in a haphazard pile.

Green eyes raked him from head to toe and back again, accompanied by a slow, appreciative whistle. "Lordy," Alex drawled with a tiny grin, "they grow 'em big down on the farm."

God, like he wasn't blushing enough already. Clark knelt back on the bed where he'd been before, next to Lex. He was dimly aware that he was starting to shiver.

"First time, kid?" Alex asked softly.

Clark nodded.

Reaching over, Alex took Clark's hand, placing it on Lex's chest. "Just follow my lead. I know what he likes."

Clark's fingers tingled at the touch of Lex's skin. Smooth and creamy, soft as brushed satin -- which he'd never actually felt, though he couldn't imagine anything else as luxurious -- dusted with crisp, fine whorls of ginger-colored hair at his nipples, under his arms, trailing down his belly, thick at his groin. Lex glowed like a pearl against the dark sheets, lightly sheened with sweat, arching into Clark's touch, exposing every shift and pull of muscle and tendon.

Pygmalion's dream. Pale stone sprung to life.

Clark's dream.

The taste of Lex's skin nearly overwhelmed him. Moist, sweet and tart, exploding on his tongue like peppermint. Warm blood beneath the surface. Velvety, pebbled nipple, coffee in cream. His mouth closed over it, teeth grazing.

Lex's choked groan sent his blood surging with pride.

Dominance.

Lust.

"Here," Alex murmured, sliding down, running his fingers gently along the upper curve of Lex's right hip, leaning down to give Lex a playful nip. "He likes to be kissed right here. Don't be afraid to bite him a little, either. He likes having a souvenir the next day."

Oh, God. *Control, control,* Clark chanted inwardly, tongue tracing a wet path down Lex's left side, stopping to imitate what Alex had just done. Flesh caught between teeth, marking, claiming. Hot salt sweat in his mouth, dizzying.

Fingers twined in his hair, pulling softly. Lex's fingers. Lex's thighs fell open as Clark continued to kiss downward, inward, down the tender furrow between Lex's left thigh and groin. Muted gasps and the sound of his name over and over again told him he was on the right track. He skimmed his nails lightly down the soft, soft skin of Lex's inner thigh, remembering how much he liked the heightened sensation when he jerked off. Lex nearly bucked off the mattress.

Lex's cock bobbed, the moist tip brushing Clark's cheek. Clark shot a quick glance in Alex's direction, surprised to see that the other man was now propped up on one elbow, idly stroking Lex's right thigh, watching him.

"Don't let me stop you, kid," he said with a wink. "You're doing fine."

Fresh heat shot all through him, pooling in his own cock. Clark felt suddenly lightheaded, tight in the chest, like the air was somehow running out. *Control.* A momentary pause, a deep breath, and his lips were brushing the rosy, leaking head of Lex's cock, tonguing, tasting. Salt and musk, similar to his own taste, yet different, smokier, *deeper.*

Too complicated to fully describe, just like the rest of Lex.

Lex's fingers tightened their grip in Clark's hair as he painted long, slow strokes of his tongue up and down the underside of Lex's cock. He'd never done this before, but he knew how he'd like his own cock sucked if given the opportunity, and so far Lex wasn't complaining. The dark mushroom-shaped crown slipped between his lips with an audible pop, and Clark slid down, taking as much as he could without choking, Alternately crooning and slurring Clark's name, Lex tugged Clark's scalp reflexively, so hard it almost hurt, hips arching, driving himself deeper into Clark's mouth.

Wrapping his tongue down the entire length of Lex's cock, Clark sucked hard, sliding down to the root, slipping both hands under Lex's ass, pulling him in as far as he could go. Hot, swollen flesh grew instantly hotter, more swollen, and with a broken cry Lex slammed home once, twice, sweet sticky warmth shooting, flooding Clark's mouth, then he lay still.

Resting his cheek on Lex's thigh, Clark breathed deeply, savoring the taste of Lex on his lips, waiting for his pulse to slow. Alex's gentle tug on his arm urged him upward, and he moved, settling comfortably in between the two older men. Clark wondered if Lex had bought a king-sized bed just for impromptu orgies. The thought made him snicker.

"Glad to hear you're having a good time," Lex rasped, eyes fluttering open, still slightly hazed-over, but with a spark of fresh awareness that hadn't been there a few minutes ago. Soft pink lips barely touched by a smile, leaning in, brushing Clark's own, wet tongue-tip sliding past Clark's teeth, demanding entrance. Tight fingers winding in Clark's hair again, holding him, hot, slow stabs across his upper palate, fucking his mouth.

First time.

First kiss.

*God.*

He could feel Alex's breath on the nape of his neck when Lex finally let him go, a tiny playful swipe of the dark-haired man's lips and teeth at his earlobe. More shivers. "D'you like to watch, Clark?" Alex whispered, voice like smoke now, smoke and rough silk. "Well, watch *this.*"

Another kiss, Alex and Lex this time, so close all Clark had to do was lift his head to touch both of them. Alex's hand slipped behind Lex's neck, cradling him close, claiming the younger man's mouth with heat and passion. Passion, and something else, Clark saw as Alex finally pulled back, his forehead resting lightly against Lex's. Something sad and wistful and about a dozen other things he couldn't quite read.

Almost as if they were saying goodbye.

"I think Clark needs some attention, don't you, Lex?"

Gray eyes flicked from Clark to Alex and back again, glinting with mock solemnity. "I'm in complete agreement, Alex."

Suddenly there were two hot wet mouths taking turns devouring his, two pairs of hands rolling him onto his side, until Clark lay facing Lex. Fingers and lips everywhere, Lex's warm, smooth fingers trailing down his chest, nails lightly scraping both nipples, taking one between his teeth, sucking hard enough to make him gasp. Alex's fingers, rough and callused, gently tilted Clark's head back, Alex's lips seeking out the throbbing pulse in his throat, tongue flicking over the artery, biting down at the exact same second Lex's hand closed around Clark's cock.

God, he needed to come. He'd been rock-hard for so long he ached, and Lex's purposely slow, teasing strokes weren't helping. His skin tingled all over, every touch bringing him that much closer to screaming. Blood roaring in his ears, burning his brain from the inside out. He was dying, he had to be.

"Please." He was whimpering now, almost sobbing. "Please, Lex..."

"Please *what,* Clark?" Calm, cool voice. Classic Lex. Firm, merciless fingers gripping him harder, jacking him from the root. "If you want something, ask for it."

"I-I need...I want...God, don't make me--"

"You want to come?" Lex's thumb smoothed over the head of Clark's cock, rubbing the tiny weeping slit. "What do you think, Alex? Has he earned it?"

"Hmmm." Alex pressed in close to Clark's back, peering over Clark's shoulder at what Lex was doing. "Doesn't look like he's gonna last much longer."

"Maybe I should put him out of his misery."

"Maybe you should."

Steamy breath at Clark's throat again, teeth scraping his earlobe, lips traveling down his chest and belly. He'd lost track of who was doing what to him, just closed his eyes and floated in the
sensations, groaning low in his throat at the sudden ticklish feel of soft wetness trailing between his shoulder blades. He'd never thought of that part of his body as an erogenous zone before.

Something else that was wet, but not the least bit soft, was bumping the small of his back, he realized with a startled jerk. Alex's cock. He hadn't come yet either. God, he wasn't going to--

"Hey, take it easy," Alex murmured, stroking Clark's arm, calming, reassuring. "I'm not gonna do anything you don't want."

But Clark barely heard him over his own raw yelp as Lex mouthed the head of his cock once, twice, stripping back the foreskin, taking him all the way down in one slow, agonizing stroke. Nothing subtle or kind, nothing naïve and tentative like what he'd done to Lex a few minutes ago, nothing but wet heated satin relentlessly engulfing him, swallowing him, over and over.

Brain blazing, hands fisting the sheets so tightly he dimly realized he had to be shredding them, he felt his hips jerking, Lex's throat pulsing, and he was falling, screaming, grabbing Lex's head, smashing into a million pieces.

* * *

The room was dark when Clark opened his eyes again. He stole a quick glance at the clock on Lex's bedside table. 5:14 am. *Fuck.* Dad was going to tear a strip off him, no matter what excuse he managed to dream up for being out all night.

He was just about to sit up when he realized there was no one lying next to him, on either side. A soft murmur of voices came from the foot of the bed, where Lex sat, Alex standing in front of him, one hand on the younger man's shoulder, the other cupping his face. Low, ragged groans, grunts and sucking sounds violated the pre-dawn hush.

Clark shut his eyes, trying not to listen, or even breathe. His lungs felt like they were going to implode by the time Alex came with a strangled shout, shaking the bed with his hard thrusts into Lex's mouth.

A cold fist gripped Clark's heart, squeezing till it threatened to burst.

God, he was such a fucking clueless idiot.

He'd managed to convince himself that something had happened between him and Lex, something real and good and more than just friendship. He'd even started to feel a weird sort of bond with Alex. But it didn't mean anything other than what it was on the surface, at least as far as Lex was concerned; just another drugged-out fuck.

Lex obviously didn't even remember he was there.

There was a faint rustle of clothes being pulled on, low-pitched voices near the bedroom door, a gentle kiss, thump of Harley boots in the hall outside, growing fainter. Lex's feet padding softly on the carpet, moving toward the bathroom.

Clark was on his feet as soon as the bathroom door closed, yanking his clothes on at top speed, heading downstairs and out the door. Dropping down to a normal walk at the mansion's front gate, he shoved his hands in his pockets, starting toward town. The sky was turning gray, tinged with pink at the edges.

No point hurrying home now.

If he was going to get chewed out, it might as well be on a full stomach.

Thankfully, the Talon was open. Clark went in through the back entrance, heaving a sigh of relief that Lana wasn't on-shift this early. He ordered a large coffee and blueberry muffin, then swung around to look for a place to sit, gaze locking immediately on the dark figure sitting in the back corner. Shit!

For a split-second he eyed the door, gauging his chances for escape. Too late. Alex had already seen him. Might as well get this over with.

"What're you doing here, Clark?" Alex asked, putting aside his newspaper. Clark could've sworn he actually looked concerned.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing."

"Just grabbing some breakfast before I head out of town. Here, have a seat," he added, nudging the other chair out with the toe of his boot.

Wavering a second, Clark finally sat down, taking a long pull on his coffee, hoping it covered his nervousness. He had no idea what to say.

"You still haven't answered my question, Clark."

"Oh, um...I'm just on my way home. I've got a lot of chores today."

Something in the way Alex looked at him told Clark he wasn't buying it, but luckily the older man didn't call him on it, just picked up his own coffee, swirling the cup, taking a sip.

Tension was starting to make Clark's skin itch. One of them had to say something. "Yesterday morning after you left, I asked Lex how the two of you met."

"And what did he tell you?"

"Not much."

"I don't really blame him. That was a rough time in his life, Clark. He doesn't like to talk about it."

"Yeah, I figured."

Alex studied his fingernails for a moment, obviously mulling something. "I'll tell you how it happened, if you want. It might help you understand Lex better. But only if you promise to keep what I'm going to say strictly between us."

Clark nodded.

Alex took another long sip of his coffee, then started. "It was about five years ago. Lex was your age, sixteen. Three men grabbed him off the street in Metropolis, kidnapped him, held him for ransom. I was with the Metropolis FBI field office at the time, and I was assigned as assistant special agent in charge of the case."

Clark nearly choked on his coffee. "You're an *FBI agent*?"

"Not anymore. Anyway, the day after Lex disappeared, the ransom note arrived. The Bureau wanted to go ahead with the money drop. We were hoping we could follow whoever picked it up, arrest the kidnappers and get Lex back in one fell swoop. But Lionel Luthor refused to
cooperate. He said it was against his policy to negotiate with criminals." Alex gave a disgusted snort. "Before anyone at the Bureau could stop him, he called a TV press conference and said,
essentially, just that. At that point, everyone on the case figured there was no way we'd find Lex alive."

"So what happened?"

"We got lucky. Forensics was able to pull a full thumbprint off the ransom note, and luckily its owner had a record, and an abandoned farmhouse out near Rossdale. They were keeping Lex in the storm cellar." He paused, tossing back the last of his coffee. "Apparently at first they were treating him fairly well, feeding him, leaving him pretty much alone. But as soon as Lionel's press conference aired, one of the perps just flipped out, went totally psycho. He beat Lex up pretty badly, cut him... Raped him."

Clark stiffened, a sharp breath stabbing his lungs. It hurt to hear this. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like to live it.

"I was the first agent through the door, the first one to get to Lex. He was lying on this filthy mattress, all bruised and bloody and naked. As soon as I identified myself, he latched onto my arm and wouldn't let go. The paramedics literally had to peel him off me.

"He started to scream when they put him in the ambulance. He was thrashing around so much they couldn't get him strapped in, and they couldn't sedate him till he'd been checked out for head injuries. So I climbed in next to him and held his hand all the way to the hospital." He paused, clearing his throat. "I hung out in the waiting room until he got out of surgery. Until the doctors came out to tell Lionel he was going to make it. Christ, I can still see it all in my head...the whole hospital staff fawning over that bastard, while he milked every drop out of his distraught father act. It was all I could do to keep from digging his heart out with a spoon.

"Anyway, I left after that. I knew I was getting too emotionally involved in the case, and besides, the doctors weren't going to let anyone outside the family in to see him.

"Flash-forward six weeks. I showed up for work one morning, and Lex was waiting in my office. He wanted to thank me for rescuing him. And he brought along a little gift: the deed to a fucking condo in the Luthor Towers."

"He tried to give me a truck once," Clark murmured, smiling at the memory.

"Yeah, Lex told me about that, and about you pulling him out of that sinking Porsche. But that's Lex. He's always had more than a touch of hero worship." The older man chuckled, then went on with his story. "When I told him Bureau policy wouldn't allow me to accept gifts, I could see he was crushed, though he covered it up well." His glance met Clark's, and he shrugged. "What can I say? I was an idealistic little shit back then."

Clark stifled a laugh.

"I still felt badly about turning him down. So when he insisted that I have dinner with him that evening, I said yes. I figured it was the least I could do.

"I'd never met such a self-possessed kid in my life. He picked me up in a limousine, took me to this place I could never afford in a million years, ordered for both of us -- in French -- without even looking at the menu. And suddenly I knew what this was all about. I was being seduced."

Fresh flash of heat, all over. Clark squirmed in his chair.

"When we got back in the limo, he had me flat on my back with his tongue down my throat before the door was closed. Took me all of five seconds to realize I was right where I wanted to be." Tiny smile, one that spoke volumes. "We spent weekends together as often as I could
manage it for about a year after that."

"So...how come you guys aren't together anymore?"

"Life happens, kid. And Lex's and my lives took us in different directions. Nobody's fault." He pushed back his chair, standing up. "I'd better get going."

Clark walked him out to the car. The sky was pale blue now, sun peeking over the edge of town. He shuffled his feet, unsure of what to say or do. A handshake, a hug? After what had happened, Alex wasn't exactly a stranger, but not exactly a friend either.

"He cares about you," Alex said softly, giving Clark's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You know that, right?"

"Not really."

"Clark..."

"Oh, c'mon, Alex. If I hadn't barged in on you two, nothing would have--"

"Didn't you hear him? He was moaning your name before he even knew you were there. *Your* name, not mine. Don't you remember that?"

Clark remembered. God, he remembered. "Doesn't that bother you?"

"No. Why should it?" Alex leaned back against the Mustang, pulling out a cigarette, lighting it. "Lex and I are friends, Clark. I mean, yeah, we were in love once, but that was a long time ago. Now we're just friends who have a good time in bed together every now and then. You're different. He cares about you. He cares about you so much he was willing to sacrifice everything you two could have had together just to make sure he doesn't lose you as a friend."

It took a few seconds for Alex's words to sink in, but when they did, Clark felt like an anvil had just dropped on his head. "Y-You were the one who called our house last night."

Alex grinned. "C'mon, kid, somebody had to get you two together. Lex needs a good fucking more than once every couple of years." Sucking down the rest of his cigarette in one long drag, he flicked the butt away, then stomped it out. "And now I really do need to hit the road."

Clark didn't resist when Alex pulled him into a hug, planting a quick kiss on Clark's cheek before he stepped back.

"Take care of him, kid," he said, opening the car door, sliding inside, starting the engine. "He wouldn't admit it, even if he had burning bamboo shoots stuck under his fingernails, but he needs it."

The Mustang pulled away, heading off toward the highway. Clark stood there watching until it was a tiny black dot in the distance, then started home.

* * *

By noon, Lex was climbing the walls. He'd been calling the Kent Farm since nine that morning, and it had taken a Herculean strength of will to make him wait that long before picking up the phone. But he'd gotten the answering machine every single time.

Well, he was done waiting. While the last thing he wanted to do was get Clark in trouble -- or, God forbid, ratchet Jonathan Kent's intense dislike of him up to a whole new level -- in truth, Lex was genuinely worried. He hadn't expected Clark to just up and leave like that, without saying a word.

Then again, what else could he have expected? He hadn't thought the situation through at all. Once Alex had started things rolling, Lex had just lain back and gone with it, even when Clark had joined in.

He should have known it was all far too overwhelming for a sixteen-year-old to handle.

If Clark was hurting, it was his fault.

And now it was time for him to fix it.

Lex floored it all the way out to the farm, grateful that Sunday afternoon traffic was relatively sparse. The truck was there, he saw as he pulled up in front of the house, though Martha's car was gone from its usual spot. The kitchen door was unlocked, which was nothing unusual, but there was no sign of any of the Kents downstairs. Seized with sudden irrational panic, he sprinted all the way to the barn and up the loft stairs, heart nearly punching a hole in his chest.

Clark was stretched out on the couch, reading. "Lex, what are you doing--"

"Have you been up here all day?" Lex demanded. He knew he sounded half-crazed, but he didn't care. "I called half a dozen times, and all I got was the damn answering machine."

"I-I'm sorry. If I'd been in the house, I would have answered. Mom and Dad went to Metropolis," he explained, standing up, nervously shoving both hands in his pockets. "It's Mom's birthday."

"I see." Try as he might, Lex just couldn't hold onto his annoyance. Clark's sweet, sincerely apologetic expression would have melted an ogre's heart. "What, no wild parties this time?"

"I think I've already had my yearly quota of 'wild.'"

He didn't know what to say to that. But he knew he had to say something. "Look, Clark, if you want me to go, I will. And if you'd rather forget that last night ever happened, we can do that too. But you're going to have to tell me to my face why you left this morning."

There was a spot on the floor near the toe of his boot that Clark had suddenly found fascinating "It just...wasn't exactly the way I'd imagined my first time."

Knife through his heart. Bitter ashes in his mouth. "Especially since I'm not a petite brunette."

"Fuck you, Lex," Clark snapped hotly. "I don't compare you to anyone else. But I guess I was pretty stupid to expect the same thing from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, I'm surprised you even noticed I was there."

"I was stoned, Clark -- not in a fucking coma. I knew what I was doing."

No reply.

"Well," Lex added softly, "I'm glad at least one of us can say that."

"Yeah, I'm sure you knew exactly what you were doing when you had Alex call last night and lure me back up to your house!"

"*What?*"

Clark just stared at him. "Y-You didn't know?"

"That son of a bitch," Lex breathed, staring back at Clark, Clark staring back at him. Dueling stares. Lex half-expected to hear the twang of banjos any second. Finally Clark's lower lip began to tremble, and they both burst out laughing.

"Clark, I swear, I had no idea...he must've called when I was in the bathroom or something--"

With a mock sigh, Clark reached for Lex's arm, pulling him close. "Shut up, Lex."

Soft lush lips came down on his, tongue wetly seeking entrance to Lex's mouth. It was the first time he'd ever had to reach *up* to kiss anyone, Lex reflected. It was an odd sensation, but far from an unpleasant one. There was something strangely calming about the strong, solid feel of Clark's arms across his back, circling his waist, something weirdly freeing, like being caught in the eye of a tornado. The whole world could be raging all around them, and Lex would never have known the difference, or cared.

He knew Clark would never let him fall.

They were both gasping when they finally broke apart, Clark stepping back, starting to tug off his flannel shirt. Lex's hand flew up, stopping him. "I seem to have missed this part of the show last night," he said with a smile. "Let me."

Two bright rosy spots appeared on Clark's cheeks, but he dropped his hands, letting Lex do what he wanted. Soft flannel peeled off first, floating to the floor as Lex tugged Clark's t-shirt from the waistband of his jeans, skimming his fingers lightly up Clark's belly and chest, finally pulling the thin material up and over his head.

Lex's breath caught, brain awash in momentary dizziness. Any minute he expected to wake up. This was a dream, it had to be; human beings just weren't this beautiful, not outside of a Botticelli painting, anyway. Smooth, golden skin tinged with a sweet pink glow, stretched over taut muscles. The face of an angel who'd never fallen, and never would. Michelangelo's David in flannel and denim.

Or, in this case, just denim.

He wasn't sure who tugged whom over to the couch, but the next thing Lex knew he was perched on the edge of it, unzipping Clark's jeans, reaching inside. Clark gasped, hot and hard in Lex's hand, holding onto Lex's shoulders to steady himself.

Time to try something new. Knowing Clark expected him to pay immediate attention to his cock, Lex reached underneath, fondling the downy-soft scrotal sac and balls instead, leaning forward, sucking as much of them as he could into his mouth. He couldn't help chuckling deep in his throat as Clark hissed and jerked, digging his fingers so deep into Lex's shoulder it hurt, even through his sweater and jacket.

"I guess we can safely say you like that," Lex teased, glancing up, his own cock surging at Clark's painfully aroused expression. There was something incredibly hot about this sweet farm kid standing here in front of him, bare-chested and warm to the touch, with his hard cock sticking out of his pants. *Jesus.*

All of a sudden he felt distinctly overdressed. With Clark's help they both stripped down quickly and stretched out on the couch. It was a narrow fit, but after some clumsy shifting Clark ended up on the bottom, spread out under Lex like an emperor's banquet, Clark's left leg slung loosely around Lex's right hip.

More kisses, open-mouthed and wet, dueling, stabbing tongues. He'd never tasted anything like Clark's taste before, fresh and clean as rainwater under the faint tang of soap. Hot slide of silky skin on skin, weeping cockheads leaving sticky trails on both their bellies. He was already so damn close, from just this contact, without even touching his own cock, and from Clark's tiny shivers and shallow panting, he could tell the younger man was too. Reaching down, he grasped both their cocks in one hand, brutally stroking, flexing his hips, plowing Clark's belly, warm sticky jets suddenly bathing his hand, finishing it for both of them at the same time.

When Lex finally came down from his cloud, he found himself lying on his side, Clark curled around him like a drowsy kitten. He lifted his head to look outside, heartbeat skidding when he realized the sky was growing dark. "Clark. Hey," he said softly, dropping a gentle kiss on the crown of Clark's head, just enough to rouse him. "What time are your parents getting home?"

"Oh...um, they're going to dinner, then a concert. They shouldn't be home till late."

A little while longer, then. But it was going to kill him to walk out of here tonight, no matter what time he left.

Suddenly he thought of something he really should have remembered to ask earlier. "What did you tell them about last night?"

"That I went over to Pete's, and we fell asleep watching videos. They believed me."

Lex breathed a tiny sigh of relief. Uneasy relief, but relief all the same.

"I guess we're gonna have to wait awhile to tell them," Clark murmured, slightly fuzzy-voiced. "At least till I'm eighteen."

It took a minute for Clark's words to sink in, but when they did, Lex was stunned. It had been years since anyone he'd been with -- or even himself, for that matter -- had assumed they'd still be together two weeks later, much less two years. Not since Alex.

"Do you want to tell them?" Lex asked gently.

"I don't like lying to them, Lex. But I don't think there's any way Dad would understand."

Lex had to agree with him there. Jonathan Kent would gleefully fly his bleeding ass from the nearest flagpole if he found out what Lex had been doing with his formerly virginal son. Lying stuck in his craw too, but Clark was right; there was nothing else they could do about it right now.

"Lex?"

"Hmmm?"

"D'you think you'll be hearing from Alex again anytime soon?"

"Probably, why?"

"I was hoping you could give him a message from me."

"What message?"

Clark smiled shyly. "Just...'thanks.'"

Lex laughed, really laughed, a deep, happy sound like he hadn't heard from himself in a very long time. "Yeah," he replied, pressing a soft kiss to Clark's forehead. "I think I can deliver that message."

* The End*