![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grianchlochTitle: Secret
Author: Delanach
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Lex/Clark
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Sadly, they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them for a while.
Beta: The lovely![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cocoajava
Warnings: Very mild D/s,
Notes: A peek inside Lex Luthor's mind. Set in an undefined time after the end of season six. No spoilers.
Summary: Only when his guard is down can Lex reflect on the impact Clark has had on his life, as he tries to keep a sliver of hope alive.
Lex Luthor has a secret.
It’s not the kind of secret that sits in a confidential folder marked “eyes only” or “restricted access”. And it’s not the kind of secret that is hidden away on a disc drive with more encryption than the Pentagon has at its disposal, like the rest of Lex’s files. It’s not even the kind of secret that his father with his all knowing eyes and patronising words would be able to guess at.
This secret has never been typed into a document, or written down in an expensively bound journal in Lex’s precise hand. It’s never even been said out loud for fear that its power would grow and consume the speaker, bringing all his schemes and machinations to a grinding halt in the face of such an earth shattering admission.
No, this secret Lex keeps so deep inside that he can pretend it's buried and forgotten until it surfaces in the dead of night when he's alone and brooding, and a glass too much of the expensive brandy he favours allows it breathing room in his head. But if he were totally truthful with himself, he would admit that it’s always there in the background, twisting inside him, hard and sharp. It cuts deep in very rare moments of perfect clarity where he wonders how he got here from there. It slices through him in those brief moments when he wakes in the night convinced he’s back in the mansion and wonders why there’s a cold spot next to him where a large warm body should be. And it stabs at this heart as surely as if it were a poniard from his extensive weapons collection on the odd occasion his eyes meet with anothers and there is nothing left between them but but cold distance.
And what is this big secret?
Lex Luthor misses Clark Kent.
He misses their easy friendship. Misses the way Clark would walk into the mansion and speak to Lex as an equal, not someone to be feared or hated or fawned over. Misses Clark.
Clark never cared that Lex was obscenely rich, he saw the man behind the money and with an easy grace and open manner, coaxed Lex further out of himself than he’d even been before. They laughed together, a lot, and Lex came to see his banishment to Smallville in a whole new light. He took his punishment and revelled in the things he found in the small town. A real friend and a glimpse of family life that had love and truth and trust at its heart.
And one day, over a game of snooker, they had taken their friendship to a new level.
“That was an illegal move!” Clark said with exasperation in his voice and a smile playing around his lips.
“No it wasn’t.” Lex smirked back and bent over the table to take a follow up shot. When his cue refused to move, he looked back over his shoulder at a grinning Clark who was holding the cue by the other end.
“It was.” Clark insisted.
Lex let go of the cue and turned to face his friend.
“I think you’ll find that it’s a perfectly legal move, according to the Prussian rules we’ve been playing by, Clark.” Lex had to bite his lip to keep from howling with laughter as Clark rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I’ve got a copy of them somewh...”
Lex’s eyes flew wide open as Clark’s mouth was suddenly on his, warm and moist and delicious. It was a clumsy yet demanding kiss and his lips parted for the younger man’s tongue to enter and explore. It continued until Lex thought he was about to pass out from the lack of oxygen, and he pulled away reluctantly.
He looked at Clark, wondering if he’d decide he’d made a mistake and leave, but Clark looked back at him and smiled.
“I had to stop your lecture on the rules of snooker somehow, Lex.”
Lex raised an eyebrow and laughed as he dug his fingers into Clark’s lush hair, something he’d unconsciously wanted to do for a long time.
“I approve of your methods and I think I’d like another demonstration.” He shivered as Clark’s eyes darkened and sighed as their mouths met again.
Clark’s kisses were full of passion and a need for something more, but Lex wanted to savour every touch and caress and wanted Clark to be sure he really knew what it would mean to take their relationship from friendship into something deeper, so it was weeks before they finally tumbled into Lex’s bed. Afterwards, with Clark sated and dozing in his arms, Lex lay awake and stared at the ceiling for the longest time, wondering at the stamina and the sheer strength that he got a glimpse of while Clark was fucking him into the mattress.
It wasn’t long before Clark laid claim to not only Lex’s body and his heart, but his soul as well. One afternoon as they lay naked together in Lex’s big bed, Clark’s hands slipped up his arms, raising them above his head and pinning them to the heavy cotton sheets. Lex’s body stiffened and he looked up at Clark with fear flickering in his eyes. At first, Clark didn’t understand. Lex had done the same thing to him before and he had playfully struggled against the captivity, enjoying the fire in Lex’s eyes, but it was obviously a deeper matter for Lex.
Lex lay looking up at Clark, his breath ragged as he waited for his lover to release him, but he didn’t. His grip lessened slightly, and he kissed Lex with a tenderness that made him whimper.
“Do you want me to let go?” More kisses followed, coaxing Lex into relaxing. “Or will you trust me enough to let me do this?”
When Lex looked into Clark’s eyes he saw nothing but love and he nodded hesitantly. “Trust you ...”
Clark trailed his lips down Lex's neck as he spread Lex's legs further apart and pushed into his already well fucked body.
“Wrap your legs around my waist.” Clark smiled as Lex obeyed the command, squirming in Clark's strong one handed grip as his other hand roamed Lex's body, pinching a nipple and making him gasp. "And don't come until I tell you to."
Clark fucked him long and hard, until Lex thought he would go out of his mind if Clark didn't say the words, give him permission, and even the idea that Clark could hold power over him like that took him so close to the edge that he begged shamelessly for release. Clark's eyes darkened, and he pushed Lex until a ragged sob tore from his throat before he gave him what he needed.
"Do it, Lex, come for me."
Lex came so hard he almost passed out and he curled into Clark’s arms afterwards, never wanting to leave. He hid the bruises on his wrists beneath the cuffs of his expensive shirts but he knew they were there and for days afterwards, until they faded away, they reminded him of how it felt to give up control. It was something only Clark could take from him, and he gave it willingly every time his lover asked.
Lex Luthor misses Clark Kent.
And even thinking it scares him witless because he has to believe...
Lex closes his eyes and grits his teeth, blaming too much brandy for the hot prickling sensation behind his eyes.
... he has to believe that if he went to Clark and laid his soul bare for the younger man, asked him for his help in walking away from the dark pit he knows his life will become, Clark would reach out his hand and pull Lex away from the mire and save him.
Because Clark Kent can always see the good in people.
Even people as damaged as Lex Luthor.
Lex looks down at the glass in his hands and his voice is barely audible, only a hint of a whisper.
“I miss him.”
The glass trembles as a spasm wracks his body, a physical manifestation of the raw need that grips him, a need so far past plain old desire that it scares him. For a moment, he lets himself remember and the memories tumble from their cage, wrapping his cold grey soul in warmth and light and love and trust. In his mind’s eye he sees Clark. He’s wearing one of his trademark plaid shirts and as he turns to Lex, he smiles and something in Lex begins to melt.
“I miss you.” He tells the shade of a memory. But that’s all it is, a memory.
Lex hurls the brandy glass against the wall, taking no satisfaction from the sound of it shattering. He slips from the chair onto his knees and crawls towards the debris. Fractured and broken shards litter the impossibly smooth wooden floor and Lex crawls closer, fascinated by the razor sharp edges. One would do it, one deadly smooth spike of glass drawn firmly over the fine skin at his wrist, and he would bleed out right there.
It’s not like he hasn’t done it before. Scars on the outside heal particularly well when your father can afford the best doctors. It’s the scars on the inside that linger.
He picks a piece up, and sits back against his bed, examining the glass, twisting and turning it, feeling the painful edges slip dangerously through his fingers until a small drop of blood wells on the pad of his right index finger.
The glass forgotten, he watches the bead slowly grow and swell until it’s too heavy to stay on the tip of his finger and begins to run sluggishly down the length of it towards his palm. Hysterical laughter bubbles to the surface and he presses his finger to his mouth, smearing his lips with blood, lapping at the copper tang with his tongue.
He bleeds, like any other person. He may have cast his humanity away long ago, and he had sacrificed countless souls who stood in the way of his relentless ambition, but he’s still human, isn’t he? A man made of blood and bone and flesh? He pulls his finger away from his mouth and looks at it. The bleeding has stopped so he squeezes the tiny wound until it starts again, and the awkward, painful laughter is back.
And now he doesn’t want the brittle laughter to end, because he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop himself when it does, stop himself from sobbing until his lungs ache and his heart bursts and the tears have washed his soul clean. And he can’t allow that to happen. It’s too late. The times when Clark would have held him as he cried and helped him put the pieces together again afterward are long gone.
Lex is alone.
He shattered the trust of the one person who could have saved him as surely as the glass shattered when it hit the wall. Now they stand on opposite sides of everything and stare each other down as if nothing else had ever passed between them.
Lex slowly regains control, choking back the laughter and the threatening tears and sighs softly, looking at the broken glass. It will be gone tomorrow, efficiently cleaned away, not a speck left and the brandy stain washed from the wall. No-one will ask what happened. Why he threw the glass. His security may wonder about the tiny drop of dried blood on the floor, but not out of concern for him. If Lex gets damaged on their watch, it won’t look good on a resume.
No-one will walk in, their brow creasing with concern and ask “Is everything okay, Lex?”
Lex presses the heel of his hand against his forehead, trying to deny the memory access to his mind, a memory of soulful green eyes edged with concern. He crawls into bed and before he can stop himself, he reaches for his cell phone and hits speed dial for a number it’s owner doesn’t even know he has. It rings twice and Lex is convinced it’s going to go straight to voice mail but it doesn’t.
“Hello.” Clark’s voice is muzzy with sleep, deep and laced with dark honey and Lex can hardly breathe.
“Hello? Who is this?” He’s more awake now, and Lex tries not to imagine him lying naked in bed with the phone to his ear, a puzzled look on his face.
What does he say? I’m sorry? I need you? Please come?
No, he can’t, because there’s a small part of him that fears the answer. What if he asks Clark to come and he refuses? Clark Kent, the one man who can see the good in everyone, no matter how broken they are. The secret that Lex keeps is wrapped around a tiny sliver of hope. In his heart of hearts, he needs to believe that deep down, Clark can still see the good in him . If Clark refuses to come, that hope will die and Lex would be truly damned.
“Say something.” Clark’s voice reminds him of warm days in the Kansas sunshine and the smell of hay and he wishes he could say something, say anything. But he can’t.
“I know...” Lex presses the small button that ends the call and now he will never know what Clark knew.
Across town, Clark makes himself a coffee and takes it out onto the roof space. He likes it out there in the open air even if the city is so far removed from the farm that there’s no pretending he’s back home. He sits on the low brick wall, sets his mug down on the ground by his side and reaches into his pocket for his phone.
He’s already tried to call the number that called him, but it’s blocked as he knew it would be. He stares at it anyway, as if he can will it to ring again by the power of thought alone. He knows it was Lex, he would recognise his breathing anywhere, and wonders why his one time friend, one time lover would call now in the middle of the night.
He could be across town and with Lex in about the time it takes for a heart to beat but he stays where he is and sips his coffee. The time is long past that he would invite himself into Lex’s life knowing he’d be greeted with a smile.
What they once had is gone, but unlike Lex, he doesn’t try to push away the memories when they find him even though they are filled with regret for what's been lost. Once, Lex looked at him with warmth in his gaze, love even, and Clark remembers the way Lex smiled when they were together, and the sound of his laughter. He saw a side of Lex that he's not sure anyone else ever did, so Clark has to believe there is still hope for Lex, even if it is the smallest of slivers of hope, and despite what has passed between them since they were lovers, he’ll never give up on Lex entirely.
Because Clark Kent can always see the good in people.
Even people as damaged as Lex Luthor.
Author: Delanach
Fandom: Smallville
Pairing: Lex/Clark
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Sadly, they aren't mine, I'm just playing with them for a while.
Beta: The lovely
cocoajavaWarnings: Very mild D/s,
Notes: A peek inside Lex Luthor's mind. Set in an undefined time after the end of season six. No spoilers.
Summary: Only when his guard is down can Lex reflect on the impact Clark has had on his life, as he tries to keep a sliver of hope alive.
Lex Luthor has a secret.
It’s not the kind of secret that sits in a confidential folder marked “eyes only” or “restricted access”. And it’s not the kind of secret that is hidden away on a disc drive with more encryption than the Pentagon has at its disposal, like the rest of Lex’s files. It’s not even the kind of secret that his father with his all knowing eyes and patronising words would be able to guess at.
This secret has never been typed into a document, or written down in an expensively bound journal in Lex’s precise hand. It’s never even been said out loud for fear that its power would grow and consume the speaker, bringing all his schemes and machinations to a grinding halt in the face of such an earth shattering admission.
No, this secret Lex keeps so deep inside that he can pretend it's buried and forgotten until it surfaces in the dead of night when he's alone and brooding, and a glass too much of the expensive brandy he favours allows it breathing room in his head. But if he were totally truthful with himself, he would admit that it’s always there in the background, twisting inside him, hard and sharp. It cuts deep in very rare moments of perfect clarity where he wonders how he got here from there. It slices through him in those brief moments when he wakes in the night convinced he’s back in the mansion and wonders why there’s a cold spot next to him where a large warm body should be. And it stabs at this heart as surely as if it were a poniard from his extensive weapons collection on the odd occasion his eyes meet with anothers and there is nothing left between them but but cold distance.
And what is this big secret?
Lex Luthor misses Clark Kent.
He misses their easy friendship. Misses the way Clark would walk into the mansion and speak to Lex as an equal, not someone to be feared or hated or fawned over. Misses Clark.
Clark never cared that Lex was obscenely rich, he saw the man behind the money and with an easy grace and open manner, coaxed Lex further out of himself than he’d even been before. They laughed together, a lot, and Lex came to see his banishment to Smallville in a whole new light. He took his punishment and revelled in the things he found in the small town. A real friend and a glimpse of family life that had love and truth and trust at its heart.
And one day, over a game of snooker, they had taken their friendship to a new level.
“That was an illegal move!” Clark said with exasperation in his voice and a smile playing around his lips.
“No it wasn’t.” Lex smirked back and bent over the table to take a follow up shot. When his cue refused to move, he looked back over his shoulder at a grinning Clark who was holding the cue by the other end.
“It was.” Clark insisted.
Lex let go of the cue and turned to face his friend.
“I think you’ll find that it’s a perfectly legal move, according to the Prussian rules we’ve been playing by, Clark.” Lex had to bite his lip to keep from howling with laughter as Clark rolled his eyes. “I’m sure I’ve got a copy of them somewh...”
Lex’s eyes flew wide open as Clark’s mouth was suddenly on his, warm and moist and delicious. It was a clumsy yet demanding kiss and his lips parted for the younger man’s tongue to enter and explore. It continued until Lex thought he was about to pass out from the lack of oxygen, and he pulled away reluctantly.
He looked at Clark, wondering if he’d decide he’d made a mistake and leave, but Clark looked back at him and smiled.
“I had to stop your lecture on the rules of snooker somehow, Lex.”
Lex raised an eyebrow and laughed as he dug his fingers into Clark’s lush hair, something he’d unconsciously wanted to do for a long time.
“I approve of your methods and I think I’d like another demonstration.” He shivered as Clark’s eyes darkened and sighed as their mouths met again.
Clark’s kisses were full of passion and a need for something more, but Lex wanted to savour every touch and caress and wanted Clark to be sure he really knew what it would mean to take their relationship from friendship into something deeper, so it was weeks before they finally tumbled into Lex’s bed. Afterwards, with Clark sated and dozing in his arms, Lex lay awake and stared at the ceiling for the longest time, wondering at the stamina and the sheer strength that he got a glimpse of while Clark was fucking him into the mattress.
It wasn’t long before Clark laid claim to not only Lex’s body and his heart, but his soul as well. One afternoon as they lay naked together in Lex’s big bed, Clark’s hands slipped up his arms, raising them above his head and pinning them to the heavy cotton sheets. Lex’s body stiffened and he looked up at Clark with fear flickering in his eyes. At first, Clark didn’t understand. Lex had done the same thing to him before and he had playfully struggled against the captivity, enjoying the fire in Lex’s eyes, but it was obviously a deeper matter for Lex.
Lex lay looking up at Clark, his breath ragged as he waited for his lover to release him, but he didn’t. His grip lessened slightly, and he kissed Lex with a tenderness that made him whimper.
“Do you want me to let go?” More kisses followed, coaxing Lex into relaxing. “Or will you trust me enough to let me do this?”
When Lex looked into Clark’s eyes he saw nothing but love and he nodded hesitantly. “Trust you ...”
Clark trailed his lips down Lex's neck as he spread Lex's legs further apart and pushed into his already well fucked body.
“Wrap your legs around my waist.” Clark smiled as Lex obeyed the command, squirming in Clark's strong one handed grip as his other hand roamed Lex's body, pinching a nipple and making him gasp. "And don't come until I tell you to."
Clark fucked him long and hard, until Lex thought he would go out of his mind if Clark didn't say the words, give him permission, and even the idea that Clark could hold power over him like that took him so close to the edge that he begged shamelessly for release. Clark's eyes darkened, and he pushed Lex until a ragged sob tore from his throat before he gave him what he needed.
"Do it, Lex, come for me."
Lex came so hard he almost passed out and he curled into Clark’s arms afterwards, never wanting to leave. He hid the bruises on his wrists beneath the cuffs of his expensive shirts but he knew they were there and for days afterwards, until they faded away, they reminded him of how it felt to give up control. It was something only Clark could take from him, and he gave it willingly every time his lover asked.
Lex Luthor misses Clark Kent.
And even thinking it scares him witless because he has to believe...
Lex closes his eyes and grits his teeth, blaming too much brandy for the hot prickling sensation behind his eyes.
... he has to believe that if he went to Clark and laid his soul bare for the younger man, asked him for his help in walking away from the dark pit he knows his life will become, Clark would reach out his hand and pull Lex away from the mire and save him.
Because Clark Kent can always see the good in people.
Even people as damaged as Lex Luthor.
Lex looks down at the glass in his hands and his voice is barely audible, only a hint of a whisper.
“I miss him.”
The glass trembles as a spasm wracks his body, a physical manifestation of the raw need that grips him, a need so far past plain old desire that it scares him. For a moment, he lets himself remember and the memories tumble from their cage, wrapping his cold grey soul in warmth and light and love and trust. In his mind’s eye he sees Clark. He’s wearing one of his trademark plaid shirts and as he turns to Lex, he smiles and something in Lex begins to melt.
“I miss you.” He tells the shade of a memory. But that’s all it is, a memory.
Lex hurls the brandy glass against the wall, taking no satisfaction from the sound of it shattering. He slips from the chair onto his knees and crawls towards the debris. Fractured and broken shards litter the impossibly smooth wooden floor and Lex crawls closer, fascinated by the razor sharp edges. One would do it, one deadly smooth spike of glass drawn firmly over the fine skin at his wrist, and he would bleed out right there.
It’s not like he hasn’t done it before. Scars on the outside heal particularly well when your father can afford the best doctors. It’s the scars on the inside that linger.
He picks a piece up, and sits back against his bed, examining the glass, twisting and turning it, feeling the painful edges slip dangerously through his fingers until a small drop of blood wells on the pad of his right index finger.
The glass forgotten, he watches the bead slowly grow and swell until it’s too heavy to stay on the tip of his finger and begins to run sluggishly down the length of it towards his palm. Hysterical laughter bubbles to the surface and he presses his finger to his mouth, smearing his lips with blood, lapping at the copper tang with his tongue.
He bleeds, like any other person. He may have cast his humanity away long ago, and he had sacrificed countless souls who stood in the way of his relentless ambition, but he’s still human, isn’t he? A man made of blood and bone and flesh? He pulls his finger away from his mouth and looks at it. The bleeding has stopped so he squeezes the tiny wound until it starts again, and the awkward, painful laughter is back.
And now he doesn’t want the brittle laughter to end, because he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stop himself when it does, stop himself from sobbing until his lungs ache and his heart bursts and the tears have washed his soul clean. And he can’t allow that to happen. It’s too late. The times when Clark would have held him as he cried and helped him put the pieces together again afterward are long gone.
Lex is alone.
He shattered the trust of the one person who could have saved him as surely as the glass shattered when it hit the wall. Now they stand on opposite sides of everything and stare each other down as if nothing else had ever passed between them.
Lex slowly regains control, choking back the laughter and the threatening tears and sighs softly, looking at the broken glass. It will be gone tomorrow, efficiently cleaned away, not a speck left and the brandy stain washed from the wall. No-one will ask what happened. Why he threw the glass. His security may wonder about the tiny drop of dried blood on the floor, but not out of concern for him. If Lex gets damaged on their watch, it won’t look good on a resume.
No-one will walk in, their brow creasing with concern and ask “Is everything okay, Lex?”
Lex presses the heel of his hand against his forehead, trying to deny the memory access to his mind, a memory of soulful green eyes edged with concern. He crawls into bed and before he can stop himself, he reaches for his cell phone and hits speed dial for a number it’s owner doesn’t even know he has. It rings twice and Lex is convinced it’s going to go straight to voice mail but it doesn’t.
“Hello.” Clark’s voice is muzzy with sleep, deep and laced with dark honey and Lex can hardly breathe.
“Hello? Who is this?” He’s more awake now, and Lex tries not to imagine him lying naked in bed with the phone to his ear, a puzzled look on his face.
What does he say? I’m sorry? I need you? Please come?
No, he can’t, because there’s a small part of him that fears the answer. What if he asks Clark to come and he refuses? Clark Kent, the one man who can see the good in everyone, no matter how broken they are. The secret that Lex keeps is wrapped around a tiny sliver of hope. In his heart of hearts, he needs to believe that deep down, Clark can still see the good in him . If Clark refuses to come, that hope will die and Lex would be truly damned.
“Say something.” Clark’s voice reminds him of warm days in the Kansas sunshine and the smell of hay and he wishes he could say something, say anything. But he can’t.
“I know...” Lex presses the small button that ends the call and now he will never know what Clark knew.
Across town, Clark makes himself a coffee and takes it out onto the roof space. He likes it out there in the open air even if the city is so far removed from the farm that there’s no pretending he’s back home. He sits on the low brick wall, sets his mug down on the ground by his side and reaches into his pocket for his phone.
He’s already tried to call the number that called him, but it’s blocked as he knew it would be. He stares at it anyway, as if he can will it to ring again by the power of thought alone. He knows it was Lex, he would recognise his breathing anywhere, and wonders why his one time friend, one time lover would call now in the middle of the night.
He could be across town and with Lex in about the time it takes for a heart to beat but he stays where he is and sips his coffee. The time is long past that he would invite himself into Lex’s life knowing he’d be greeted with a smile.
What they once had is gone, but unlike Lex, he doesn’t try to push away the memories when they find him even though they are filled with regret for what's been lost. Once, Lex looked at him with warmth in his gaze, love even, and Clark remembers the way Lex smiled when they were together, and the sound of his laughter. He saw a side of Lex that he's not sure anyone else ever did, so Clark has to believe there is still hope for Lex, even if it is the smallest of slivers of hope, and despite what has passed between them since they were lovers, he’ll never give up on Lex entirely.
Because Clark Kent can always see the good in people.
Even people as damaged as Lex Luthor.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-05-13 12:54 am (UTC)(I noticed one typo, if you're interested in that kind of thing: "chocking back the laughter" meant to be "choking back the laughter.")
This piece is so excellent. This is the kind of thing I read and think, "Why can't I write like that?" Thanks so very much for sharing it.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-13 07:54 am (UTC)I'm so glad you enjoyed it and I'm happy it left you with a sense of hope :)
And thanks for pointing out the typo.