"Clark Kent is a stupid dork."
Lana Lang’s voice echoed in the empty Talon, bouncing off the coffeehouse walls. She flushed at the meanness of her words, ashamed that she felt they were the truth. She glowered at the perfect red rose in the wastebin. The flower was beautiful, but she couldn’t keep it. Clark was not forgiven. She couldn’t, in all honesty, hold his breaking their date against him; Pete, and subsequently Chloe, had been sick. But that didn’t excuse Clark for kissing Chloe. He wasn’t infected by anything other than male hormones, taking advantage of poor Chloe like he did, and Lana was furious and hurt.
"Ooh, men!" She swept the box of personal pan pizza that Clark had brought with the rose off the table in a pique. The box hit the tile floor and slid under the curved couch against the wall. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Throwing a tantrum wouldn’t do anything other than make a mess.
Lana opened her eyes, sighed unhappily, and walked over to the couch. She knelt on the floor and reached beneath the couch for the box. She wrinkled her nose at the thought of the dust bunnies. She would use the vacuum hose tonight, she decided, as she slid the box out.
"What’s this?" Lana picked up the reddish object that had slid from beneath the couch with the box. It was a red-crusted rock of some sort. It was too rough and oddly shaped to be anything special, but it had potential.
Lana tucked it into her pocket. She’d need a distraction when she got home and the rock might make a lovely necklace, or bracelet, or perhaps a keychain, once she used her rock tumbler to polish it.
She picked up the pizza box, stood, and walked over to the wastebin. She dropped the box into the trash, crushing the rose. "Take that, Clark Kent!"
After a moment, Lana shook her head at her pettiness and went back to closing down the Talon.
"Lana!" Clark saw Lana flinch and felt like a heel. He approached her anyway, despite her obviously not wanting to see him.
It was early Sunday morning, the weekend after the parasite infestation of Chloe and Pete and subsequent fallout with Lana. The downtown Smallville streets were relatively empty. It was chance that Clark had seen Lana at the front door of the Talon, after he’d dropped off a box of his mom’s muffins at the Guild Hall down the block. He really needed to apologize to her again, on top of making sure things were okay between her and Chloe. While the red meteorite brought out Clark’s baser instincts, it was still his fault, not Chloe’s, that they were kissing. Chloe had been infected by a parasite; Clark had been acting out suppressed desires.
Clark jogged up to Lana and felt a pang at her unhappy expression. "Can I talk with you a minute?" he asked, wondering if he sounded like he was pleading.
"I really don’t have the time, Clark," Lana said, not looking at him. She jammed the key in the lock, handmade keychain swinging wildly, the red rock at the end catching the morning sunlight and making it shine. "Lex will be here shortly to pick up the receipts for his accountant and I need to make sure they’re all together."
Clark’s hand closed over hers and over the key. What felt like an electric current coursed up his arm and into his body. He smiled smoothly and cajoled, "C’mon, Lana. It won’t take long. Promise."
"Fine," Lana agreed reluctantly. Clark smiled wider, brushed her hand away, unlocked and opened the Talon door. He held it open for her to precede him inside, pocketing the key with the gaudy keychain.
Lana’s sneakers squeaked on the clean tile floor as she crossed the empty coffeehouse. The chairs were upside down on the tables, the music off, and the espresso machine silent. She set her woven purse on the curved, marble counter that separated the employee area from the rest of the coffeehouse. She was wearing pink again: pink shirt, pink sweater, pink jacket, pink flowers on her blue jeans, pink socks and sneakers. Her exotic eyes were highlighted in pink shadow and lips were shiny with bubblegum pink lip-gloss. Clark thought she looked like cotton candy and wanted to eat her up.
"Well?" Lana prompted in a miffed tone. "I’m listening."
"I came to apologize again." Clark removed his coat and tossed it on the counter. "Of course, I wouldn’t have to, if you’d put out already."
"Excuse me?" Lana said incredulously.
"You heard me," Clark said. "A guy has needs, and while I want to be the one to pop your cherry, I’m not going to pass up the willing as I wait for you."
Lana stared dumbfoundedly at him. "Are you serious?"
Clark pushed up the sleeves of his blue and red rugby shirt and leaned both elbows on the counter behind him. He looked towards the Talon door when he heard the hum of a powerful car engine outside. "Lana, I hate to burst your bubble, but that’s the only reason I’m interested in you. Hell, it’s the only reason any guy’s interested in you. You’re the virgin princess that everyone’s dying to bag, especially now that Whitney’s six feet under."
A glance over at Lana showed her eyes full of tears and an anguished expression on her face. "I can’t believe you said that."
"Why? It’s the truth," Clark said. "You’re vacuous, self-absorbed, uninteresting, and kinda creepy. Hasn’t anyone told you that it’s not normal to hang out in cemeteries, communicating with your dead parents?"
Lana gasped as the front door opened and Lex Luthor strode inside. Clark gave him a slow once-over. He was wearing black trousers, a deep violet v-neck sweater, and a calf-length leather coat. Those stupid wraparound sunglasses ruined the look, and Clark was glad they were removed. He’d have to remember to break them.
"Clark. Lana." Lex paused in his approach, looking between the two. "Is everything all right?"
"Just ducky," Clark said flippantly.
Lex shot him a funny look before focusing on the teary girl. "Lana?"
Lana waved him off. "I’m fine," she said, lowering her chin and wiping her cheeks. "I’ll go get those receipts for you."
"I’ll get them," Clark said. "I want to talk with Lex anyway. Why don’t you go fix your make-up. You’re starting to look like a raccoon."
Lex glanced sharply at him, as Lana made a small sound of distress. She collected her purse. "Lex, will you lock up? I think I’m going to go. Gina will be here around ten."
"Go on," Lex agreed, and Lana rushed out of the Talon.
Clark chuckled at her hurried leave-taking. "Some people just can’t take the truth."
"And you’re the expert on telling it," Lex drawled.
Clark laughed. "Wow. Somebody’s been eating sour grapes."
Lex didn’t find it funny. "Do you want to tell me what that was all about?"
"What are you going to do? Throw money at the problem?" Clark asked maliciously.
Lex pressed his lips together, anger and hurt flaring in his revealing eyes. "Considering ninety-percent of the times I see you, you ask for money, it makes that a rhetorical question."
"Aww, is Lexy feeling used?"
"You’re on something again," Lex said unamusedly. "Whatever it is, it’s making you act like an ass. Find me when you’re sober and then we’ll talk."
He started for the stairs leading up to the offices, but Clark’s hand on his shoulder stayed him. "I’m not on anything," Clark said.
"Don’t lie to me, Clark. I’m not stupid," Lex said stiffly, glaring at the hand on his shoulder.
"You know, the trouble is, you don’t trust me," Clark said, dropping his hand. "If you did, it wouldn’t matter that I lie."
Lex stared flatly. "If that’s your logic, then you don’t trust me, either."
"I have reasons not to trust you," Clark ticked off names on his fingers, "Nixon, Hamilton, Walden, Mr. Green." He smirked when Lex reacted to the name. "My lies don’t have anything to do with you. Your lies cover up hurting me or my parents, and that’s why I said you stab me in the back."
Lex let the silence stretch, and Clark watched the emotions play across his face until it settled into the worst possible combination. Clark groaned as his chest tightened and a familiar urge settled inside him. "Oh god, don’t do that. Stop looking all vulnerable and hurt."
"I’ll try my best," Lex said sarcastically.
"Jesus, Lex," Clark said. "This is why I don’t want you coming over anymore. Do you know how much I hate seeing you needy?"
The hurt written on Lex’s face only increased in intensity. Clark wanted immediately to find the nearest couch and cuddle the hurt away. Then, he wanted to strip Lex down and touch him until he was a sated puddle of bones. "Damn it!"
It was nearly unnoticeable, but Clark saw the flinch and that was the end of resisting. He moved suddenly, closing the short distance between them, cupped Lex’s face with both hands, and kissed him.
The hard press of their lips sent ice and fire racing through Clark’s veins. He knew it would feel like this. Instant chemistry. The sexual and emotional tension that had been bubbling under the surface ever since they met came to a head, exploding like a vat of moonshine in the back forty.
Lex grabbed Clark’s wrists, and Clark broke the kiss. He sucked in a pained breath between his teeth, resting his forehead against Lex’s. "Damn it, Lex. I’m enough of a freak already. I don’t want to be gay, too."
Lex opened his mouth to speak, but Clark cut him off with another kiss. His tongue dove between Lex’s parted lips, tasting him hungrily. He was flavored like coffee and chocolate and toothpaste mint, and trembled when Clark dragged the tip of his tongue along the ridged roof of Lex’s mouth.
"I love you," Clark whispered plaintively against Lex’s lips, eyes shut tightly. "Do you understand? I love you and I don’t want to." He kissed Lex again.
Lex’s fingers dug into Clark’s wrists, but there was no pain, except in his heart. Clark was not an expert kisser, teeth clacked and noses bumped, but he was unhesitant in taking Lex’s mouth and branding it as his own. He held Lex’s face still, plundering his mouth with desperation.
"I hate this, I hate this, I hate this." Clark punctuated the words with hard pecks against Lex’s lips.
"Clark…," Lex said roughly.
"Shut up. Shut up." Clark plunged his tongue into Lex’s mouth again, scraping against his teeth. Lex was kissing him back, trying to take control, tongue battling forcefully with Clark’s. Hot, panting breaths mingled, sounding loud in the quiet of the Talon.
Clark released Lex’s face and shoved the leather coat off Lex’s shoulders, dragging it and his arms down, letting it fall to the floor. Clark’s hand dropped to Lex’s belt, and he unbuckled and unfastened the trousers and pushed them down faster than he should have, but he didn’t care. He used his foot and gravity to get the clothing off, one of Lex’s shoes being lost in the puddle of material. He grabbed Lex’s bare hips, lifted and turned, and deposited him on the counter.
The kiss broke, and Clark opened his eyes. Lex’s mouth was swollen and his cheeks red where Clark had held him captive. Heavy-lidded silver-blue eyes watched him intently, darkly flushed, hard cock thrusting out from beneath the hem of the deep violet sweater.
"When you’re vulnerable and hurting, it’s so hard to fight loving you," Clark said in a raw voice, standing between Lex’s parted knees. "Leave me and my family alone, Lex. Trust me when I lie to your face, and take whatever I give you, because that’s all you’re going to get."
"Clark!" Lex gasped sharply, hands tangling immediately in Clark’s hair, as he bent and engulfed Lex’s cock.
Clark had dreams about doing this, but the phantom weight of Lex’s dick in his mouth did not compare to reality. He was instantly addicted to the stretch of his lips around the rigid length, the taste of velvety skin and pre-come, the heady smell that filled his nostrils and the springy curls that tickled his nose. Lex’s pulse fluttered against Clark’s tongue, steady and strong, and the rush of blood through his veins overpowered the slurping, sucking sounds Clark made as he gave Lex a blowjob. There was a lot more drool that he’d expected and Lex bucked his hips and tried to force Clark’s head down, which was annoying. Clark’s hold on Lex’s hips tightened, keeping him still. The hands in his hair he’d put up with, because the uncontrolled breathy sounds Lex was making were worth it. Lex was otherwise silent, just like in Clark’s imagination.
Clark glanced up, peering through his bangs at Lex. Lex’s chest rose and fell rapidly beneath the deep violet sweater. His face and head were flushed splotchy pink. His mouth was slack, his bruised lips shiny from repetitive licking. He stared unwaveringly at Clark, pupils dilated and eyes glazed.
Clark lowered on hand to the fastenings of his jeans and freed his own aching erection. He fisted his dick, stroking in rhythm with his bobbing head, invulnerable skin making lubrication unnecessary. God, he didn’t want to be gay, but he couldn’t deny how horny Lex made him or how delicious Lex’s cock tasted. Clark moaned at the realization that he could have this at anytime now that he’d given in to his desires, and was rewarded with a sharp gasp and Lex wrapping his legs around Clark, his ankles hooking behind Clark’s shoulders.
Clark caught on immediately. He hummed purposely and Lex shuddered in response. Hand moving faster over his erection, Clark sucked harder and stroked his tongue rapidly on the underside of Lex’s dick. He pictured how they must look in his mind, and was suddenly coming on the wall beneath the counter and the floor, white heat erupting up from his balls out of his cock. He sucked with unintentionally bruising force, and Lex cried out audibly with unmistakable pleasure.
Releasing his spent cock, Clark wiped his hand on Lex’s sweater before retaking hold of his hip. He concentrated fully on making Lex cry out again, head bobbing fast, sucking, slurping, swallowing Lex down. His teeth scraped against the spongy tip of Lex’s dick, and he bit with just the right amount of pressure on the pause after the downstroke, and Lex went wild under him, shouting, "Oh fuck, oh god, oh GOD! CLARK!"
Lex exploded in Clark’s mouth, salty-bitter spunk coating Clark’s tongue and throat and dribbling from his stretched lips. Clark continued pulling on Lex’s cock until it stopped pulsing in his mouth and Lex tugged incessantly at his hair. Clark released him and spat on the floor. He may like the taste of cock, but semen was gross.
Clark wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, fixed his jeans, and eyed Lex. Lex’s legs were spread, cock limp against his furred balls, posture slumped and breathing heavy. He looked like he’d just had a really good blowjob. Clark laughed silently. "Enjoy yourself?"
It was amusing to watch Lex gather his scattered wits. He had the most expressive face, if anyone bothered to pay attention. "Clark, I—."
Clark raised his hand and interrupted. "Never mind. I know you did." He caught sight of his watch on his wrist. "Oops. Gotta go. Mom’s making chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and I’m already late." He grabbed his coat, put it on, and strolled towards the door.
"Lex…," Clark cut him off, stopping at the door. He really didn’t want a post-coital discussion. He sighed heavily and faced Lex. "I hate that I love you, I don’t want to be gay, and you don’t trust me. All are realities that I have to accept if I want to keep my sanity, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to act any differently than the Clark Kent you know—," he smiled wickedly, "—other than when I jump your bones."
He dipped his hand in his pocket and pulled out Lana’s key. "See ya," he said, tossing the key to the half-naked man on the other side of the Talon.
Two heartbeats after the keychain left his hand, Clark felt as though a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him. His stomach flipped and his face paled, as rational thought reasserted itself. Oh, my god!
Lex caught the key with Clark’s accurate throw. He looked at it a moment, and then at Clark. A million emotions flitted across his features before settling on vulnerable confusion.
Clark opened the door and fled.