Fic: Great Things

[bagheera_san]

With the dreaded episode "Promise" only a week away, I guess we could all use some denial fic. Anyways, here I come with the second to last cliché fic. The last would be for saturnalia, but you asked for Heroes fic, and I haven't caught up with the show after the break and I'm kind of unable to write anything for the show. Would you like SV fic instead?

This is for arianstarr's prompt:
Clark tries to convince Lex why seduce Lex into believing potential wife #3 should be chucked out the door.

As usual, I tried several approaches to this, but at this point in canon, I had to resort to red!Clark.

Title: Great Things
Pairing: Clex
Rating: NC-17
Length: 4863
Warnings: PWP. Spoilers for S6, up to "Crimson." Please, no spoilers for unaired episodes in the comments.


It was the night before the wedding. Lex was contemplating just that - the night before. He could hardly remember the first time, even Desiree's face was blurred, only a memory of lust remained, thick as a drug haze.

The second time he remembered like a dance floor under strobe light – bright harsh flashes of memory mixed with moments lost to sudden darkness. He remembered Helen's face, clear as ever, he remembered drinking because he was unaccountably nervous before the wedding, and her calming voice always there, small poisonous whispers. He wasn't sure how he could have been so blindly emotional then.

Tonight, there was no need to drink. Knowing Smallville, there would be some unexpected disturbance tomorrow, but this time, Lex himself was fully in control. Whatever distracting feelings he had had for Lana had cooled down considerably in the last weeks as he had to realize that he was marrying a woman who didn't love him and yet was too weak to let go. Lana loved Clark, and even the slow burning jealousy he felt was gone.

Lana would never be able to control him the way Desiree had, or betray him like Helen. This time he was the one in control, the seducer, the one committing betrayal even before the vows had been said.

There were only two things left about this marriage that truly mattered to him. One was the expression on Clark's face tomorrow – because Clark would show up for the wedding, there was never any question of that. The other was a mere exercise in control, a last test to prove that he was ready to achieve his ends by any and all means.

Watching the flames flicker silently in the grate, Lex wondered if this was how Helen had felt the night before their wedding, this cold absence of emotion, this wonderful clarity of mind.

He heard the creak of wood a second before two warm hands settled on his shoulders, almost enclosing his neck like a collar. A pair of thumbs stroked along his spine, up to the base of his skull.

"Don't move," someone whispered in a low growl into Lex's right ear, and Lex didn't. He had recognized the voice, and the tone in it, and knew that the hands around his neck could probably snap it like a twig.

"Clark," Lex said, noting his own lack of surprise. "Your timing is off. I expected your grand entrance tomorrow."

The hands moved a little tighter around his neck, and the pressure of the thumbs increased. It still wasn't enough to hurt, barely more than a firm caress. This was the Clark who had burst into the engagement party, Lex realized, the Clark who, many years ago, had stood in his study and made impossible propositions. The cause of these occasional changes was still a mystery to Lex. Was it drugs? Mental illness?

Clark chuckled arrogantly. "Not afraid of me, Lex? What if I've come to finish where I left off?"

"Since you didn't kill me then, I'm reasonably sure you won't kill me now," Lex replied. Clark had made as if to strangle Lex then, but if Clark had been serious, Lex would have been dead faster than he could comprehend. No, Clark's intent then had been to hurt and intimidate him and it was probably the same now.

While Lex was sure that he could be hurt physically, that certainty kept him from being intimidated.

"I've got a deal for you," Clark said, as if it only now occurred to him. Whatever gave him this dangerous surge of confidence wasn't enough to hide his inexperience at this kind of game.

Lex was aware that he, too, was becoming dangerously over-confident. Still, he couldn't stop.

"I don't negotiate at gunpoint."

Clark laughed, and Lex could feel the warmth and the moisture of his breath on the back of his neck. Then the hands slid off his shoulder and Clark sauntered around couch, coming into view. As always his change of personality was accompanied by a change of clothes, but this time, the change was almost subtle. Clark was still in T-shirt and jeans, only the white shirt was indecently tight and the jeans rode teasingly low on his hips and both were far above Clark's budget. He dropped onto the couch opposite Lex with an elegant sprawl, his eyes hooded, red lips twisted in a faint smirk.

"Better?"

For the first time, Lex understood that he was not calm at all. He was tense, with every fibre of his body, but it was a pleasant tension, a vibrant alertness, the thrill of a deadly game.

"Make your offer, Clark," Lex said coolly. He didn't expect there to be an offer, more likely a clumsy threat. As always, Clark would be all tease, raising expectations he wouldn't fulfil. Soon the thrill would simmer down to bitter rage. "I doubt you have anything I want, though."

Clark started forward, the calm façade of his arrogance suddenly broken, and hissed, "I have everything you want, Lex." The sneer returned quickly after the outburst and Clark leaned back again with schooled nonchalance. "I have all the answers you'll ever get."

This was a surprising turn. It very nearly showed on Lex's face. Clark was offering him the truth. Maybe not the whole truth, but even the offer itself was worth something – the confirmation that there was indeed a truth to be known. It was a mere formality by now, Lex didn't doubt the existence of Clark's secrets for a second – hadn't doubted it for a long time, even though he could never quite pin down when this certainty had arisen in him, or what had given it to him.

"You'll realize, Clark, that I have stopped investigating you. I'm tired of your secrets."

There was the tiniest flicker of insecurity in the way Clark's smile widened, as if maybe Clark believed him. "Oh, I'm sure you know some of the things I can do. Maybe you even know what I am. You probably know what I am not. But for every answer, you've got ten more questions, don't you, Lex?"

"Do you expect me to believe that you'll actually give me any answers? If you would be willing to let go of your precious secrets, you'd be making this offer to Lana."

Clark lowered his eyes almost demurely, but the sharp edges of his smile belied the gesture, turned it lewd. "Lana can't give me what I want, though."

Lex stared at him. He kept forgetting how good Clark was at pretending to be less smart than he truly was. Clark had proven at the engagement party that he could eviscerate people with the truth, that he could match a Luthor move for move when it came to finding people's sore spots and attacking them viciously. And now Clark had him by his own Achilles heel, and Lex couldn't not ask the next question, even if it mean admitting that he still had questions when it came to Clark.

The same old question. Lex had been asking it from the start and he had never gotten a satisfactory answer. What did it take for Clark to trust him? What mysterious test did Clark expect him to pass? Later, more disillusioned, with growing suspicion, what was Clark truly after? Then tired and weary, the same question over and over as Clark only came to him anymore when he had demands to make.

Lex had sworn to himself that he'd never ask again. That he'd never care again what Clark wanted.

"What do you want?"

Clark rose with the lazy grace of a great cat and rounded the coffee table, his height and bulk in full effect and yet not intimidating Lex. He merely knew that he should be intimidated, that it was reasonable to be intimidated, but he wasn't.

This was Clark. Powerful, deadly, unpredictable, high on whatever it was that made him high, but still Clark, still the kid with the dogged, possessive obsession with Lana Lang. A crush on innocence that even this darker version couldn't shake.

This was Clark and he was the one blind spot left in Lex's impeccable survival instinct.

Unexpectedly, Clark dropped to a crouch in front of Lex, almost but not quite touching his knees, looking up at him with bright green eyes. "Ask a question and I'll name the price."

Lex frowned. There was a second when he nearly called the game off, refusing to play by Clark's rules, to let himself be cornered with the truth, but he needed to know Clark's price, almost more than he needed to know the answers Clark promised.

Of the crowded questions in Lex's mind, the simplest one won. Since he was sure of the answer, it was also a good test of Clark's sincerity. "Are you human?"

No shock registered on Clark's expression. He licked his lips and it looked almost believably like an unconscious act. "Kiss me," he demanded.

Lex jumped up angrily, furious that he had fallen for Clark's sick little game. Of course, Clark had pulled everyone's innermost secrets to the light at the engagement party, so Lex should have expected this.

Hands like steel clasped his knees and pressed him down onto the couch again. "I mean it, Lex. That's the price."

Forced to sit still, his teeth clenched against the pain caused by Clark's bruising grip, Lex's thoughts stuttered to a halt. He refused to consider that this was what Clark actually wanted. There had to be some hidden agenda, some ulterior motive behind this demand.

Like a pendulum, Lex's thoughts kept returning to the first time he had encountered this other side of Clark. The way he'd stood too close, the sudden interest when Lex had suggested to run away to Metropolis together, the thinly-veiled yet aimless hunger in his eyes…

Clark was smart and perceptive, and Lex had hardly done his best to hide his attraction during the first years of their friendship. What if what Clark called his price was really his payment to Lex?

What, then, was the price Lex would have to pay?

Did Clark want him to cheat on Lana? Did he honestly think this would have any effect on their marriage?

If so, Lex was going to get away very cheap indeed. He had betrayed Lana in every way but this, and he almost thought it would relieve her to know he was spending his sexual energy elsewhere, since she had been shielding herself with her pregnancy for a while, as if it somehow made her a virtuous, asexual creature again –

Lex reached out and laid a hand on Clark's head, fisting it as tightly in the silky hair as Clark held on to Lex's knees. As he bent forward, he saw the grin spreading on Clark's face, but there was hardly any triumph in it – just wild pleasure.

Clark's lips tasted of wine, of pepper, of strawberries and blood, of everything red. His lips parted eagerly, giving Lex none of the expected resistance, forcing him to push faster and harder than he was used to. Lex had had kisses that were battles for dominance, but this one was a dare, a taunt.

When he tugged at Clark's hair and drew back just enough to gasp for air, Clark's low voice whispered over his cheek. "I'm a lot more than human. I came with the first meteor shower. I'm Kal-El of Krypton." He leaned forward to nip at Lex's lips, but Lex drew back instantly, letting his hand drop from Clark's hair. He had his answer.

Clark pouted. His hair was tousled, his lips shining with spit and his green eyes mere slits. Under Lex's steely gaze, he relented. "Alright. I'm an alien," he sighed petulantly. "Jeez, you used to be more fun. I know!" A flash of white teeth. "Ask your next question!"

Lex was getting just the tiniest bit unnerved by Clark's enthusiasm. But Clark had delivered more of the truth than Lex had expected and was offering yet more.

"Why did you come to Earth?"

Clark rose and Lex got a flash of bronzed skin at eyelevel as Clark's shirt rode up. Then Clark slid onto the couch next to Lex. "Turn your back to me and hold still."

Lex was ready to laugh in the face of such a preposterous demand, but he reminded himself that he knew the game Clark was playing. Clark didn't need Lex to turn his back on him, not with the kind of speed Lex was sure he possessed, but he wanted Lex to make some submissive gesture that played to his insecure arrogance.

The Luthor game at kindergarten level. Lex would have found it endearing if he weren't so tired of incompetence after months of playing with Lana.

With a cold glance, Lex turned his back on Clark and stared at the fire. It was possible that Clark wouldn't do anything, that Lex's compliance was enough to amuse him.

Instead, two large, heavy hands settled on his shoulders in the same way Clark had announced his presence earlier. Invading his personal space – with some fury, Lex wondered how attentively Clark had watched Lionel.

The hands stroked outward, then started to knead. Not very expertly, but telegraphing the intent nonetheless. Clark was massaging him. It was doomed to be the most ineffective massage ever, there was no way that Lex would lower his guard and relax under Clark's touch, and Lex allowed himself to be amused by Clark's miscalculation.

Maybe Lex was actually starved for some genuinely challenging conflict.

"I see Lana's rubbed off on you," Clark commented, digging his thumbs into Lex's muscles. "You're just as uptight as her. Where did you get that misconception that the bad guys don't get to have fun? I bet your Dad has lots."

The hands stroked down, along Lex's spine, firm and slow, dragging trails of warmth with them. Under other circumstances, Lex might have groaned in pleasure, but now he wouldn't have made a sound if it were a whip coming down on his back. "Is it guilt that keeps you from enjoying life, Lex? Or is it that you still love playing the martyr so very much?" Clark purred, resting his chin on Lex's right shoulder as his hands slid down to circle Lex's waist in a possessive hold.

"Your answer to my question?" Lex demanded.

"Isn't it obvious? I was sent to save you all. I was sent to rule you."

Lex contemplated it, not for the first time, the idea of a cuckoo child, deceptively harmless and innocent, programmed to be the herald of an invasion. But the only time Clark had ever shown any inclination towards power was also the last time he had been like this. And if there had been an agenda behind Clark's lies, if there had been method to his deception instead of mere cowardice, then Clark would have lied better. "So far you didn't."

Clark's hair tickled him behind the ears as Clark softly spoke. "You know how it is, Lex. You're young, you don't like being told what to do. You disobey, you get punished, you obey even less. But I'm not a kid anymore, Lex. I'm done with wasting my time just to prove a point. I'm done playing the martyr. I'm gonna own my destiny now."

Lex had heard enough. He slipped from Clark's grasp, bringing a safe distance between them and turned to face him. Clark's eyes were trained on him with burning intensity, the reflection of the fireplace dancing in their shadows. Lex tried to order his questions, tried to remember which had the highest priority, and instead felt cold in the places where Clark had touched him a second ago, and achingly hot in the places where once desire had lived.

And yet he had questions.

"What's the cause for these sudden changes in personality?"

Clark's nostrils flared and his lips parted as if in rash protest, but then he closed them again and leaned against the backrest of the couch, one strong arm draped over it. He looked calculating for a moment, without trying to hide it, then smiled deviously.

"Undress me."

Lex had expected Clark to be impatient and crude in his game of seduction. Had it been like that, fast and obscene, Lex could have won the game by merely going through the motions, removed and untouchable. Instead, he was starting to see shades of the boy who had once delighted in sly, innocent teases, tinged with this devil's cruel cunningness.

Like a stone dropped into a calm lake, the recognition sent a ripple of fierce joy through Lex, and rekindled a long dormant addiction. It was in this moment that the engagement ring on his finger, the seal of his decision to play it safe, lost its meaning, as Lex was handed the cup of temptation and drunk from the drug called risk.

God, and if he lost everything, he was going to play.

"Take off your shirt, Clark."

For a second, surprise softened Clark's face into a more familiar questioning expression, then Clark closed his eyes in obvious appreciation of the command and stretched, baring his stomach before he reached down and pulled his shirt over his head in one smooth move, then dropped it on the floor. He sunk back into the leather afterwards and met Lex's gaze.

"Give me your feet." Obediently, Clark swung his long legs up on the couch and his feet onto Lex's lap. Lex took a moment to scrutinize the expensive jeans and the even more expensive boots that had to be brand-new and still already were scuffed and slightly dusty. Then he undid the laces and pulled them off. He set the boots neatly down on the floor, and put the socks on top. Done with that, Lex put a hand under Clark's left knee and lifted his leg so it bent and came to rest between the back of the couch and Lex's side. Now Lex was encircled by Clark's legs, and Clark was spread out widely before him, his thighs splayed to give a perfect view of his crotch. He was undeniably aroused, and watching Lex hungrily from under his dark bangs.

When Lex ran his knuckles over the confined erection, Clark arched his back and bucked into the touch, groaning shamelessly. Lex waited for him to settle, admiring the shuddering rise and fall of his stomach, the delicious hollows of his hips. Then he undid the top button of the jeans. The zipper opened on its own, pushed by Clark's straining erection and revealed that Clark hadn't bothered with underwear.

Lex wondered if, some moves further down the game, Clark would want to fuck him. The sight of his hard cock made Lex's dry mouth water with anticipation and the knowledge of the inhuman strength behind the physical perfection added just the right thrill.

"Red meteor rocks," Clark said in a husky voice. "They… make me be who I really I am. I always keep some around. Took a little bit at first, just some dust… thought it was unfair that I couldn't even drink to make me feel better, just this once, because of your stupid wedding." He grinned happily. "Didn't stay at a little bit, though."

Lex had suspected many things of Clark, some of them undeniably on the paranoid side of distrust, but an longstanding addiction to an exotic drug was not among them. He wondered if it did in fact change Clark's personality, or if it mere lowered his inhibitions – a little bit of both probably, like with most drugs.

The next question was a mere formality. "What about the rest of your species?"

"Watch," Clark ordered, and pushed himself up on his elbows. He wrapped a hand around his cock and gave it one hard tug, then jacked it more slowly, from the head to the base, the knuckles of his fist grazing the metal of his zipper. Lex could feel the leg that was still draped over his lap tensing when Clark rubbed his thumb over the wet head for the first time.

"Nobody has ever watched me," Clark said between shallow breaths. "I always knew you'd like to. Nobody could have missed the way you looked at me, Lex. Did you know that I loved it? Every second of it? You never looked at Lana that way."

The thought of looking at Lana the way he'd looked at Clark – the way he looked at him now – was actually repulsive to Lex, as if he would be looking at a child and not a woman. There was nothing to unravel about her; if he tried, he was sure she'd come apart, like a broken hollow thing. Clark on the other hand was nothing but strength, and an endless fountain of mysteries that would never still Lex's thirst and yet also never run dry. Lana was a beautifully framed picture, but Clark was a mirror that made you seem larger and brighter when you looked into it.

"I'm the only one," Clark gasped, and for a second Lex didn't understand, but then Clark added, "I'm the last one. The only survivor." He jerked, sudden and unexpected, and came, almost quietly. His arms slid out from under him and Clark fell back onto the couch, silky dark hair melting into black leather, and everything seemed to glisten in the golden light of the fire, the faint sheen of sweat all over his skin, his parted lips, the thin streaks of come on his belly and chest, even his dark lashes as they fluttered in an attempt to keep his eyes open.

"Why did you come to me?"

Clark opened his eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling for a while as his breathing slowed down. When he spoke, his voice was soft. "Do whatever you want to."

The room smelled of fire, of sweat and desire, of dark, shimmering heat and it was all true, every bit of what Clark had said. Not a single lie in this game Clark had played, no secrets, no subterfuge, unless the truth itself counted. For every question he asked, Lex had paid with a taste of Clark's madness, the name of which was truth, distilled until it hurt to drink. This was what happened when you took away politeness and morals and constraint, when only the vicious, basic truths remained, pain and desire, hatred and love. The red rocks didn't alter Clark, they stripped him of all pretension, until he was naked and beautiful.

Lex had chosen the bent path, where everything was artificial, where crimes were committed under the cover of legality, where hurt was inflicted politely and where desire was muted and pain masked, while Clark, just as always, had chosen the straight and narrow path, to hell as to heaven.

Driven to catch up with him, Lex bent down and tugged Clark's jeans down until he could pull them off. With a faint noise, something fell out of the back pockets and onto the couch.

Lex felt for it, and found that it were actually two things. One was a tube of lubricant, and Lex put it aside for later use, the other was small and warm, a ring with a red stone.

"I took it from Lana's stuff," Clark grinned. "It's her class ring. Better than the broken pieces I had before."

It was too small for Clark's large fingers, but Lex slid it onto his pinky, right next to the engagement ring. When he brought it near Clark's skin it glowed a bright red, then subsided to its natural ruby colour. The thing was ugly and cheap, but it fit as if it had been made for him.

As long as Lex wore this, Clark wouldn't be able to touch him and lie.

He closed his hand around the base of Clark's limp cock and Clark bit his lip and keened, either from still being too sensitive or from being so close to the ring. Lex found he liked the sound, and liked the heavy feel of Clark's returning erection, so he bent down and took it into his mouth.

Clark was hard again soon, and panting in ragged breaths, and god, Lex loved doing this, the warmth, the perfect fit, feeling Clark quiver and twitch under him, tasting him deep in his throat as he swallowed to keep from drooling. And now Clark was squirming and making loud, demanding noises. Lex unscrewed the tube of lube, one-handed and messily, spilling too much over his fingers and onto the couch before he cupped Clark's ass and found the cleft with his slippery fingers, sliding them up until he felt the asshole, small and not at all tense, no shame and no fear of pain to keep Clark from wanting this. He pushed in, two fingers at once and Clark bucked up into his throat with a loud, "Yes, do it, more!"

Lex had enough. He needed more – Clark blinked and glared at him when he pulled off and sat up, but the glare faded into an exited leer when Lex abandoned his shirt buttons and kicked off his shoes instead. Clark leant forward to unbuckle Lex's belt, and tugged at his clothing until Lex was naked, too, their limbs tangling and warm and driving him insane with each unintentional contact of skin on skin, and Clark like a force of nature on him, utterly out of Lex's control until Lex sucked in a sharp breath and pushed his hands away. He scooted back to kneel on the couch, then seized Clark's hips and in one swift move turned him onto his belly. Clark went with it eagerly, and let himself be pulled to his knees, laughing when Lex leant over him and yanked at his hair, laughing at Lex's attempt to control him, laughing at the mere idea that Lex could overpower him unless he let him.

If Lex had known –

Clark pushed back against him demandingly, "What are you waiting for?"

"Tell me." Lex wished his hands could bruise Clark's hips as he held him still.

"Fuck me."

Lex clenched his teeth and thrust, the ring of muscle tight around the head of his cock and Clark's back arching against his chest.

"What." Another snap of his hips and he was buried in Clark.

Fisted his hand in Clark's hair. "Do. You."

"Want?" Pulled Clark's head back until they were flush against each other, Clark a shivering hot thing beneath him and the glowing stone of the ring digging into Lex's cheek.

"You," Clark whimpered, then laughed breathlessly as Lex started fucking him, breaking down into a shaking animal with each time he slid into that tight, maddening heat. With each harsh breath, each slap of skin he was drained, lost everything, emptied all his reason and his anger into this act, until he was clean and bare and straight and narrow –

The next Lex knew he lay panting on top of Clark, his muscles quivering as if he had run for his life, Clark's hair sticking to his sweaty face.

Clark shifted, handling Lex like a doll until they lay chest to chest, Lex in a lifeless sprawl on top of Clark. He had exerted himself, but Clark wasn't even capable of exertion, and Lex's mind was blissfully empty but Clark's was still agile.

"I came here to finish what I started last time," he whispered in a silky voice. "But then I saw you sitting here, all alone, and I thought, hey, third time's the charm."

That Lex could bring himself to make any noise at all was a wonder. Clark picked up Lex's hand that had lain curled on his chest, right above the heart and studied the rings.

"The first time you suggested it, you lied, but it was like a whole new world opening up to me. I've never stopped wondering, what would it be like, you and me and the world at our feet? And the second time, you were the one who offered. Heh." He chuckled. "You wore a ring then, too. Just for me."

Lex had no idea what Clark was talking about. It was possible that he'd stopped making sense, or else that Lex had stopped making sense.

You and me and the world at our feet, Lex thought, because it was the only thing left making sense.

"I thought about busting your wedding," Clark went on. "Speak now or forever hold your silence, you know? You'd have loved it, but you're too stubborn to ever admit it. And I don't like waiting."

"You want to rule the world with me," Lex said numbly.

Clark petted Lex's head possessively, running gentle fingers down his spine, and cupped his ass with his other hand. The stickiness between them told Lex that Clark had come again, and the growing hardness against Lex's belly was unmistakable, but all he could bring himself to think was, yes.

"Great things," Clark promised in a whisper as he slipped one of the rings from Lex's finger.