Untitled Snippet
Nov. 18th, 2007 03:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bagheera_sanI'll need a title for this fic eventually. Something more creative than variations on "Cuffed", "Chained" or "Shackled" or "That time when Clark and Lex were running from the crazy mutant Antarctic Indians". Any bright ideas?
Anyways, here's a snippet from that story. After roughly 30000 words, Clark and Lex have finally ceased bickering for long enough to have sex. This is the morning after. It's one of those scenes you write, and like, but then you realize that they're completely superfluous. It's also a horrible tease.
Title: Untitled
Rating: bordering NC-17. Tease, like I said.
Pairing: Clex, mention of past Lexana and Clana
Spoilers: S7 included, this is futurefic
Summary:
Waking sore and slightly bruised wasn't unusual for Lex. A greatly reduced state, admittedly, since he had left Smallville for good, but Metropolis had its own pitfalls, particularly since Superman seemed to attract danger like cow shit attracted flies. In hindsight, Clark being Superman explained a lot. Maybe Lex should move his headquarters to Coast City. Supergirl patrolled there a lot, he liked her. Paradoxically, he had never mistrusted Kara Zor-El like he mistrusted Superman, simply because Clark had trusted her enough to make her part of his family. Anyone who passed the test and was deemed worthy of the Kent name was someone Lex couldn't truly consider evil. Just to prove it, neither Lionel nor Lana nor Lex himself had ever passed that test.
But that Clark was Superman was also, Lex had realized last night with some consternation, a great turn-on. Particularly once he had managed to goad Clark into aggressive, dominant behaviour. There was nothing quite like being given a thorough seeing-to by the world's most powerful being. Nothing quite like seeing your own come stain that red cape, that symbol of Truth, Justice and apple-pie. Rubbing Clark the wrong way – finally that unique skill Lex possessed proved useful for something. None of that sweet, heartbreaking slowness, like honey, like warm milk at night, that threatened to seep into every pore like poison, poison that you gladly swallowed.
Lex didn't actually think that Clark wanted to hurt him. But they would hurt each other, in the end, because he was unable or unwilling to see what was right there in front of him. Clark painted the world in the colours he wanted to see, pre-school primary colours, red and blue crayons for the little houses and Kansas sky. And then, when the colours all turned to grey, smearing his fingers, Clark would tear up the picture in fit of fury, stomping his feet and crushing the scraps of the beautiful idea that had clashed with reality. Lex had no idea why he didn't hate Clark. But he knew that he wasn't the only with that affliction. Clark left behind a trail of people who had loved him and disappointed him.
When they got back, Lex would give Lana a call. Or write her a letter. Dear Lana. Let's compare notes on the aliens we have loved and lost. Lana was one of the few people in this time and age appreciated letters – they were so much more fun to tear apart in righteous anger.
But for the moment, they were inseparable, and Clark was hard to resist. Sex was easier to handle than Clark's ham-handed attempts at mending their friendship, since Lex hardly new to casual sex. Dissembling was relatively easy as long as Clark didn't get too sappy.
Or tried to feed him dried fruit for breakfast. They had bathed again and washed their clothes as well as possible, and now sat huddled under the cape under the cover of the trees, waiting for nightfall. Lex had always secretly admired the cape for its dramatic effect, but it was proving unexpectedly useful.
"Stop that," he said, batting Clark's hand away. "We're neither a pair of silly teenagers in a café, nor is the setting opulent enough to invite decadence."
Clark popped the fruit into his own mouth. "Lex, that tough act might work on your fellow villains, but you gave me the romance 101 when I was fifteen, remember?"
"Fellow villains," Lex repeated flatly. Where did Clark get those ideas? "I must disappoint you. I've never particularly felt the need to join some kind of Crime League."
"No, I can't really see you with the likes of Sinestro or Captain Cold," Clark grinned. "And you hate all of my other villains enough to work together with Superman when they show up."
That much was certainly true, although Lex hadn't really seen it as "working together" – more like "playing one against the other".
"What about you, Clark? I always thought Superman avoided the Justice League because of his own ulterior motives, but now I do wonder why you haven't joined them."
Clark hesitated a second. "Lex, I trust you, okay? I really do, now. Ask me anything about myself, and I'll tell you. But I can't give away the secrets of other people. It's simply not fair."
Lex returned a bland smile. "I fully understand. There isn't much about the League that you can reveal to me anyways. I know all their secret identities, and if they had any weaknesses for me to attack, I would have. They've caused me more damage than my father, Zod, Lana and you combined." Well, the jury was still out on Lionel. There was material damage, and then there was psychological warfare.
A dark looked passed over Clark's face, but it wasn't aimed at Lex. "Yeah, I know. It's one reason I quit before I'd even properly joined them. They asked me to join so we could save people, and instead they just keep attacking one single corporation. To me it looks more like revenge than like justice."
Fascinating. "And there I thought you wanted me brought down more than anyone else."
"I never wanted that." Clark looked taken aback, shocked even. "I wanted you to stop doing bad things, even if it meant that I had to stop you. Things are different now," he tried to convince both himself and Lex, "you know the truth. You needn't fight me any longer."
"How do you think this would work, Clark? It might seem easy while we're here, out of the normal context of our lives and forced to work together. But we'll still be the same people when we return home. Tell me you won't find fault with me again then. You gave up the love of your life because she didn't meet your exalted moral standards."
"Lana went somewhere I couldn't follow. She had to make her own choices. But she knew what she was doing."
"And I don't?" Lex asked angrily.
Clark shook his head. "No, you don't. Because I kept lying to you."
"I'm still the same person who made these choices, however badly informed they might have been. I'm still capable of doing what I did."
"It doesn't matter what you're capable of, Lex. Well, it does, but not as much as it matters what you choose to do in the end. I quit the League because I didn't agree with their methods – but if they changed them today, I would join again, because I know that they're good people. They want the right things. And so do you. You're not the person I thought you were when I gave up on our friendship."
Bitterness tugged at him, like hooks in his flesh at Clark's presumptuous words. Always the arbiter. And more than half of Lex was fully ready to be judged. Believed every word of it. Knew that Clark was a worthy judge.
Enough of it. He needed to find something to end this. Pull some ugly truth or half-truth from the treasure chest of his mind, something to distract Clark.
"And who am I now?" Lex asked with false friendliness. "The man you were friends with? The one who wanted to bend you over his pool table when you were fifteen and no one had ever touched you?"
Clark's face became smooth in shock, child-like and vulnerable. Any second now it would be blazing with disgust. Lex wished he could take it back, what he said went too far. It isn't the full truth anyways, he never let it be that. If he had truly wanted to fuck Clark back then, he would have.
But the disgust didn't come. Clark dipped his lashes, his cheeks darkening in the slightest flush, faint in comparison to the crimson fabric around his shoulders. "You… really? Even then?"
Lex's breath caught, but the lie came as smoothly as ever, even though it was one of the boldest he had ever told. "You were delicious. If I could have bought you, I'd have paid a fortune to fuck your virgin mouth."
Clark had been priceless and Lex had known it. If he had been up for sale, Lex wouldn't have looked twice. Cheap thrills had long ceased to excite him by the time he was twenty-one and jaded. No, by then he had been chasing after the unattainable, the supreme: truth, love and justice.
Dark hazel eyes bore into his. "If you had said something," Clark breathed, "…I wondered."
It'd been a long time since they had danced like this. It had always surprised Lex how smoothly Clark could play games with him, when he was totally tongue-tied as soon as Lana or another girl came into play. "Were you curious?" he prompted, smiling sharply.
Clark nodded and returned the smile a little shame-faced. "I had these… ideas."
"Ideas. Naughty."
"More like really dorky," Clark laughed. "Like what would happen if I invited you over one day – you know, like a date. Dinner in the barn, some music, us on the couch… I wondered if maybe then you'd make a move."
Dinner in the barn and some music. It was a mildly horrifying scenario knowing Clark's likely choice in dinner and music. Lex imaged his younger self, put into that context – he probably would have been far too bewildered to make a move.
"Sweet," he said sardonically. "Not all that different from my own fantasies, except in scale. I thought about taking you on a trip, Clark. Put you into some ridiculously expensive clothes and feed you the best wines in the most beautiful cities of the world."
And maybe he would have allowed himself to watch, in secret, while Clark slept on silk sheets or on a beach as white as salt. Maybe he would have read poetry to him, baring his heart in some long dead language, in the shadow of some city weighed with history, on some dusty age-old battlefield.
A silence filled with crickets and lapping water surrounded them. The lake was glittering brightly in the morning sunlight by now; Clark's eyes were darker than the shadows of the leaves. "You never said anything."
"Neither did you," Lex replied, but he didn't mean the same thing. There was a legion of things neither of them had ever said.
Clark gave him a lopsided smile. "Lex, you realize that you were a lot scarier to my fifteen-year-old self than the average girl? And that's quite scary. I'd sooner have gone to school naked than risk embarrassing myself like that."
Should he believe that? There were many better reasons Clark would never have made a move, none as trivial as this one. Wasn't it convenient that Clark had suddenly rediscovered his feelings for Lex while they were all alone, far away from any kind of judgemental society, far away from his mother and friends? Also convenient that Lex now knew their secret, and that there was nothing left to lose – they weren't friends, and as soon as the cuffs came off and they made it home, their ways would part. Lex knew what it was like when there were no consequences to fear.
It didn't really matter, not when Clark's neck was hot under his lips, almost feverishly so, and he groaned, letting go of the cape, when Lex sucked at the corner of his jaw.
"It's a good thing then that you're already naked," he murmured into Clark's ear as he slid onto Clark's lap and felt Clark's half-hard cock against his own. "And I'm no longer scaring you."
Clark's hands were on his hips already, blunt fingers digging into his flesh, in the place where bruises from last night would have been if they had lasted. He pulled Lex closer, stifling a happy moan against his shoulder.
"Definitely not scary," Clark agreed.
They passed the time until nightfall creatively.
Anyways, here's a snippet from that story. After roughly 30000 words, Clark and Lex have finally ceased bickering for long enough to have sex. This is the morning after. It's one of those scenes you write, and like, but then you realize that they're completely superfluous. It's also a horrible tease.
Title: Untitled
Rating: bordering NC-17. Tease, like I said.
Pairing: Clex, mention of past Lexana and Clana
Spoilers: S7 included, this is futurefic
Summary:
Waking sore and slightly bruised wasn't unusual for Lex. A greatly reduced state, admittedly, since he had left Smallville for good, but Metropolis had its own pitfalls, particularly since Superman seemed to attract danger like cow shit attracted flies. In hindsight, Clark being Superman explained a lot. Maybe Lex should move his headquarters to Coast City. Supergirl patrolled there a lot, he liked her. Paradoxically, he had never mistrusted Kara Zor-El like he mistrusted Superman, simply because Clark had trusted her enough to make her part of his family. Anyone who passed the test and was deemed worthy of the Kent name was someone Lex couldn't truly consider evil. Just to prove it, neither Lionel nor Lana nor Lex himself had ever passed that test.
But that Clark was Superman was also, Lex had realized last night with some consternation, a great turn-on. Particularly once he had managed to goad Clark into aggressive, dominant behaviour. There was nothing quite like being given a thorough seeing-to by the world's most powerful being. Nothing quite like seeing your own come stain that red cape, that symbol of Truth, Justice and apple-pie. Rubbing Clark the wrong way – finally that unique skill Lex possessed proved useful for something. None of that sweet, heartbreaking slowness, like honey, like warm milk at night, that threatened to seep into every pore like poison, poison that you gladly swallowed.
Lex didn't actually think that Clark wanted to hurt him. But they would hurt each other, in the end, because he was unable or unwilling to see what was right there in front of him. Clark painted the world in the colours he wanted to see, pre-school primary colours, red and blue crayons for the little houses and Kansas sky. And then, when the colours all turned to grey, smearing his fingers, Clark would tear up the picture in fit of fury, stomping his feet and crushing the scraps of the beautiful idea that had clashed with reality. Lex had no idea why he didn't hate Clark. But he knew that he wasn't the only with that affliction. Clark left behind a trail of people who had loved him and disappointed him.
When they got back, Lex would give Lana a call. Or write her a letter. Dear Lana. Let's compare notes on the aliens we have loved and lost. Lana was one of the few people in this time and age appreciated letters – they were so much more fun to tear apart in righteous anger.
But for the moment, they were inseparable, and Clark was hard to resist. Sex was easier to handle than Clark's ham-handed attempts at mending their friendship, since Lex hardly new to casual sex. Dissembling was relatively easy as long as Clark didn't get too sappy.
Or tried to feed him dried fruit for breakfast. They had bathed again and washed their clothes as well as possible, and now sat huddled under the cape under the cover of the trees, waiting for nightfall. Lex had always secretly admired the cape for its dramatic effect, but it was proving unexpectedly useful.
"Stop that," he said, batting Clark's hand away. "We're neither a pair of silly teenagers in a café, nor is the setting opulent enough to invite decadence."
Clark popped the fruit into his own mouth. "Lex, that tough act might work on your fellow villains, but you gave me the romance 101 when I was fifteen, remember?"
"Fellow villains," Lex repeated flatly. Where did Clark get those ideas? "I must disappoint you. I've never particularly felt the need to join some kind of Crime League."
"No, I can't really see you with the likes of Sinestro or Captain Cold," Clark grinned. "And you hate all of my other villains enough to work together with Superman when they show up."
That much was certainly true, although Lex hadn't really seen it as "working together" – more like "playing one against the other".
"What about you, Clark? I always thought Superman avoided the Justice League because of his own ulterior motives, but now I do wonder why you haven't joined them."
Clark hesitated a second. "Lex, I trust you, okay? I really do, now. Ask me anything about myself, and I'll tell you. But I can't give away the secrets of other people. It's simply not fair."
Lex returned a bland smile. "I fully understand. There isn't much about the League that you can reveal to me anyways. I know all their secret identities, and if they had any weaknesses for me to attack, I would have. They've caused me more damage than my father, Zod, Lana and you combined." Well, the jury was still out on Lionel. There was material damage, and then there was psychological warfare.
A dark looked passed over Clark's face, but it wasn't aimed at Lex. "Yeah, I know. It's one reason I quit before I'd even properly joined them. They asked me to join so we could save people, and instead they just keep attacking one single corporation. To me it looks more like revenge than like justice."
Fascinating. "And there I thought you wanted me brought down more than anyone else."
"I never wanted that." Clark looked taken aback, shocked even. "I wanted you to stop doing bad things, even if it meant that I had to stop you. Things are different now," he tried to convince both himself and Lex, "you know the truth. You needn't fight me any longer."
"How do you think this would work, Clark? It might seem easy while we're here, out of the normal context of our lives and forced to work together. But we'll still be the same people when we return home. Tell me you won't find fault with me again then. You gave up the love of your life because she didn't meet your exalted moral standards."
"Lana went somewhere I couldn't follow. She had to make her own choices. But she knew what she was doing."
"And I don't?" Lex asked angrily.
Clark shook his head. "No, you don't. Because I kept lying to you."
"I'm still the same person who made these choices, however badly informed they might have been. I'm still capable of doing what I did."
"It doesn't matter what you're capable of, Lex. Well, it does, but not as much as it matters what you choose to do in the end. I quit the League because I didn't agree with their methods – but if they changed them today, I would join again, because I know that they're good people. They want the right things. And so do you. You're not the person I thought you were when I gave up on our friendship."
Bitterness tugged at him, like hooks in his flesh at Clark's presumptuous words. Always the arbiter. And more than half of Lex was fully ready to be judged. Believed every word of it. Knew that Clark was a worthy judge.
Enough of it. He needed to find something to end this. Pull some ugly truth or half-truth from the treasure chest of his mind, something to distract Clark.
"And who am I now?" Lex asked with false friendliness. "The man you were friends with? The one who wanted to bend you over his pool table when you were fifteen and no one had ever touched you?"
Clark's face became smooth in shock, child-like and vulnerable. Any second now it would be blazing with disgust. Lex wished he could take it back, what he said went too far. It isn't the full truth anyways, he never let it be that. If he had truly wanted to fuck Clark back then, he would have.
But the disgust didn't come. Clark dipped his lashes, his cheeks darkening in the slightest flush, faint in comparison to the crimson fabric around his shoulders. "You… really? Even then?"
Lex's breath caught, but the lie came as smoothly as ever, even though it was one of the boldest he had ever told. "You were delicious. If I could have bought you, I'd have paid a fortune to fuck your virgin mouth."
Clark had been priceless and Lex had known it. If he had been up for sale, Lex wouldn't have looked twice. Cheap thrills had long ceased to excite him by the time he was twenty-one and jaded. No, by then he had been chasing after the unattainable, the supreme: truth, love and justice.
Dark hazel eyes bore into his. "If you had said something," Clark breathed, "…I wondered."
It'd been a long time since they had danced like this. It had always surprised Lex how smoothly Clark could play games with him, when he was totally tongue-tied as soon as Lana or another girl came into play. "Were you curious?" he prompted, smiling sharply.
Clark nodded and returned the smile a little shame-faced. "I had these… ideas."
"Ideas. Naughty."
"More like really dorky," Clark laughed. "Like what would happen if I invited you over one day – you know, like a date. Dinner in the barn, some music, us on the couch… I wondered if maybe then you'd make a move."
Dinner in the barn and some music. It was a mildly horrifying scenario knowing Clark's likely choice in dinner and music. Lex imaged his younger self, put into that context – he probably would have been far too bewildered to make a move.
"Sweet," he said sardonically. "Not all that different from my own fantasies, except in scale. I thought about taking you on a trip, Clark. Put you into some ridiculously expensive clothes and feed you the best wines in the most beautiful cities of the world."
And maybe he would have allowed himself to watch, in secret, while Clark slept on silk sheets or on a beach as white as salt. Maybe he would have read poetry to him, baring his heart in some long dead language, in the shadow of some city weighed with history, on some dusty age-old battlefield.
A silence filled with crickets and lapping water surrounded them. The lake was glittering brightly in the morning sunlight by now; Clark's eyes were darker than the shadows of the leaves. "You never said anything."
"Neither did you," Lex replied, but he didn't mean the same thing. There was a legion of things neither of them had ever said.
Clark gave him a lopsided smile. "Lex, you realize that you were a lot scarier to my fifteen-year-old self than the average girl? And that's quite scary. I'd sooner have gone to school naked than risk embarrassing myself like that."
Should he believe that? There were many better reasons Clark would never have made a move, none as trivial as this one. Wasn't it convenient that Clark had suddenly rediscovered his feelings for Lex while they were all alone, far away from any kind of judgemental society, far away from his mother and friends? Also convenient that Lex now knew their secret, and that there was nothing left to lose – they weren't friends, and as soon as the cuffs came off and they made it home, their ways would part. Lex knew what it was like when there were no consequences to fear.
It didn't really matter, not when Clark's neck was hot under his lips, almost feverishly so, and he groaned, letting go of the cape, when Lex sucked at the corner of his jaw.
"It's a good thing then that you're already naked," he murmured into Clark's ear as he slid onto Clark's lap and felt Clark's half-hard cock against his own. "And I'm no longer scaring you."
Clark's hands were on his hips already, blunt fingers digging into his flesh, in the place where bruises from last night would have been if they had lasted. He pulled Lex closer, stifling a happy moan against his shoulder.
"Definitely not scary," Clark agreed.
They passed the time until nightfall creatively.
