Notes: I still
haven’t had the time or the know-how to get my website up and running the way I
would like, but I uploaded just this page for anyone who had bookmarked it and
was checking for updates. I’ve added
some new parts to this story, and I’m currently working on it again, trying to
get it finished. I hope there are still
at least a few people out there who remember it and are still interested!
Just a
reminder, Warning: this
story is rated NC-17; it also contains at least one small spoiler for something
that happens in Season Three.
by Cleo
Love is patient and is kind. It does not envy, it is not proud. Love is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it
is not easily angered. Love keeps no
record of wrongs. It does not rejoice
in evil, but delights only in the truth.
Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always
perseveres. Love never fails. Now abides faith, hope, and love; but the
greatest of these...is love. *1
Corinthians 13:1*
Darkness surrounded the gothic monstrosity
that was Wayne Manor, the only light in the cloudy, moonless night coming
through the leaded panes of the windows of the study. There, Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson sat comfortably on a leather
sofa, a warm fire roaring in the fireplace before them, Dick sifting through a
stack of envelopes on the end table.
"Hey! Your friend is getting hitched," Dick said in a bright tone,
a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"Give me that," Bruce said,
frowning suspiciously before snatching the little ivory-colored card from
Dick’s hand. "And stop opening my
mail."
"Actually, it's addressed to both of
us and Alfred, thank you very much.
Besides, I didn't technically open it. Alfred did. I just took
it out and read it."
Bruce's dark eyes scanned over the
card. "Well, what do you
know? Lex and Clark are having a
commitment ceremony." He looked up
to fix a withering gaze on Dick.
"Hitched," he said reprovingly, before swinging his arm over
to smack his companion's head with the invitation.
"What? That's not an appropriate term for it?" Dick laughed, before
musing aloud, "Wonder which one of them will wear the white dress? Well, I guess neither of them should really
be wearing white," he said, grinning broadly at his own little joke.
"That's enough, Dick," Bruce
said quietly, sternly.
"You know, Bruce, when you're mad at
me and you say my name like that, it just sounds like you're calling me a..."
"Well, if the name fits," Bruce
interrupted coolly. "Seriously,
Dick, enough with the childish jokes.
I've known Lex Luthor a very long time and he would never do something
like this lightly. He's been with Clark
for years now. I admire them for having
the courage to do this...to let everyone know the seriousness of their
commitment." Bruce paused before
pinning Dick with an intense scrutiny and adding, "They're completely
monogamous. And they love each
other."
Dick squirmed uncomfortably under the dark
gaze, unable to maintain eye contact.
"Guys can love each other without making asses of themselves,
Bruce. If I didn't know better, I would
think you were wanting me to catch the bouquet," Dick said
derisively, finally looking up with a little anger showing in his eyes. "So are we going to this thing or
not?"
Bruce stared at Dick for a moment, then
visibly withdrawing into himself, black eyes going blank and cold, he answered,
"I am. I think it would be best if
you didn't." He stood and left the
room, every muscle in his graceful body rigid and tense.
Dick stared at his retreating form, at war
with himself to keep from going after Bruce, and finally muttered, "Well,
fuck..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Home...finally. Clark closed the door of the penthouse behind him with a soft
click, resting his back against it for a moment, taking comfort in the solid
sturdiness of the paneled wood. He
forced his face to relax into a pleasant expression and breathed deeply, the
warm air and delicious aroma of Mary's cooking infusing him with the first bit
of peace he had felt all day. Dropping
his briefcase on the foyer table and shedding his blazer, he went in search of
Lex.
Entering the study quietly, Clark leaned
against the doorframe to watch Lex for a moment, affectionately scanning the
handsome face and elegantly lithe body.
Lex was leaning back into the leather sofa, his eyes closed, and his
long, graceful fingers massaging the bridge of his nose. His laptop was open on the coffee table, stacks
of paper scattered around it, completely covering the glass surface.
"Hey, Lex. Rough day?" Clark asked softly before crossing the room to
press a warm kiss to the lips that had been tightly compressed a moment
earlier, but that opened, soft and willing now.
Lex relaxed into the kiss before pulling
away to answer, "Difficult buyout.
Somehow I’ve found myself playing the part of an unofficial
mediator. That's a joke, isn't it?"
he said with a wan smile. "We're
dealing with some very old, very intense rivalries here, and the factory
workers' jobs are their last concern right now."
"What happened to the professional
mediator?" Clark settled into the
sofa, sideways, one leg tucked beneath him as he laid a comforting hand on
Lex's chest and began rubbing relaxing little circles through the smooth cotton
of his shirt.
Lex gave him another exhausted look before
answering, "The guy 'regretfully declined' the job - he quit - after two
days. I'm in the process of hiring a
replacement. Hey...what's Martha up to
these days? Is she available?" he
asked, jokingly.
"She could probably handle the
job," Clark said, laughing.
"Anyone who could negotiate a truce between you and your father...
between you and my father...she would have those suits sitting at her
kitchen table swapping muffin recipes by the time she was done with them."
Lex laughed a little at that image before
sobering again. "God. Christmas is just a few weeks away," he
said, beginning to rub and pinch between his eyes again. "Nothing says 'Merry Christmas' like a
pink-slip."
"You'll think of something, Lex. You always do," Clark assured him
solemnly.
There was a note of worry in Clark's voice
that caused Lex to look up and scan his partner's face, finally seeing the
tension and fatigue drawn there.
"Clark? How was your
day? Did something happen?"
Clark sighed deeply, and hesitated before
answering simply, "Larry Lewis," hating the immediate stiffening of
Lex's body, and knowing that any hope of a peaceful, relaxing dinner was
shattered. In the week since Lewis had
kidnapped Lex, been captured by Superman, then escaped from custody, there had
already been three emergency situations, crises engineered by the mind of the
genius lunatic, each one more dangerous and challenging for Superman than the
one before.
"What was it this time?" Lex
asked in a soft, almost resigned voice.
"A daycare center...a bomb."
"Oh god. I didn't watch the news tonight.
Came home and went straight to work.
Was anyone hurt?"
"No, but it was so close this time. He's testing me, you know. Trying to figure out my abilities, and my
limitations. This time, I had a few
seconds...seconds, Lex...to try to figure out what the hell to do,"
Clark said, eyes wide and sounding a little frantic.
Lex stroked Clark's thigh soothingly,
encouraging him to tell the story and get it off his chest. "What happened?"
"I was sitting at my desk and Lois
caught the story coming over the wire.
The bomber had called the police to tell them when the bomb was
scheduled to go off. I knew it was him;
he claimed to be 'Lex Luthor', of course," Clark said. "I got there within a couple of minutes
and still...there were only a few seconds left on the timer. The thing was taped to the floor under a
desk. They had started evacuating as soon
as the police called, but it happened so fast. There wasn't time to get everyone out of the building,"
Clark continued, his voice growing more and more agitated.
"Relax, Clark," Lex said
quietly, reaching up to slip his fingers into Clark's soft curls, massaging his
scalp with gentle fingertips.
"The bomb squad hadn't even gotten
there yet. All I had time to do was
move the desk and lay on the bomb. Just
dig my fingers into the floor and hang on."
"God! Clark," Lex burst out, pulling Clark's shirt up to examine
the skin beneath, running his hand over the smooth, unblemished flesh. "You're okay?" he asked in a shaky
voice.
Clark gave him a wry grin. "Well, I can't say it didn't sting a
bit. My skin was even red for a little
while after. It was pretty scary. I've been in explosions, but never anything
that strong in direct contact with my body before." Lex took a shuddering breath and opened his
mouth to speak, but didn't, instead bending low to kiss the golden skin beneath
his palm.
Soberly, Clark asked, "What if I
hadn't made it in time? What if I
hadn't been in the office when the story came in? I really should think of some way to make it possible for the
police to contact me directly...some way that won't blow my cover."
Lex looked down, not wanting Clark to see
the worry and guilt in his eyes. The
truth was, Lex had considered that before and had thought of several ways it
could be accomplished. But he was
afraid that if Clark were at the beck and call of all of Metropolis, he would
lose him; the demand for Superman's time would be so great. He knew it was selfish to want to keep Clark
to himself, but he justified it with the knowledge that being on call 24 hours
a day, 7 days a week, would be harmful for Clark as well. No one, not even Superman, would be able to
stay sane for long under that kind of pressure.
Evasively, Lex answered, "Let's just
be glad you were in the office and that you made it in time, and
everyone was okay."
"Yeah, this time. But the building took a hit. There's a huge hole in the floor, and the
daycare will have to be closed until it can be determined whether or not the
foundation has been compromised. Of
course, Lois was the first reporter on the scene. She'll be doing the article about the bombing and Superman's part
in the incident, but 'Clark Kent'," he said, laying his hand on his own
chest, "will be covering the effect this is going to have on the families
that used that daycare."
"Do they have another facility they
can use?" Lex asked.
"No.
This was a privately run center for the children of single moms that
live in the area. They barely make ends
meet as it is. I don't know what
they're going to do," he trailed off uncertainly.
Lex smiled at that; he knew a subtle hint
when he heard one. In all the years
they had been together, Clark rarely asked Lex directly for anything expensive,
but when there was someone in need, he would drop little hints. He leaned over to lightly kiss Clark's jaw
before whispering in his ear, "I think LexCorp may be able to come up with
something."
Lex smiled even more broadly when that
little statement earned him an all-encompassing hug, and a throaty murmur
asking, "For that, you do realize you're getting laid tonight,
don't you?"
Lex laughed. It was fun being a philanthropist.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The bald man's hands were steady as he
immersed the green-tinted chunk of rock into a beaker full of fuming
hydrochloric acid, then sat back, removing his protective gloves to make notes
as he observed the reaction. Nothing
unusual or unexpected discovered from this little experiment, he noted with
disappointment before neutralizing the acid with sodium hydroxide and removing
his facemask.
Larry looked down at the huge, green stone
set into the ring encircling his finger and wondered yet again why the one who
called himself 'Lex Luthor' had purchased a ring made from this particular type
of meteor rock. It was a mystery that
he was determined to solve and in his research, he had already learned that the
rock was found only in Smallville, Kansas - a small agricultural town where he
knew both Luthor and his lover had once lived.
Sentimental reasons, perhaps?
Instinct told Larry there was more to it than that.
He glanced around his makeshift laboratory
which consisted of a few marble-topped tables he had set up in the living room
of his apartment, just a few blocks from LexCorp Towers, and took a quick count
of the meteor rocks remaining. He still
had several large stones and if he broke them into pieces, he would have enough
for many more experiments.
His time since his escape had been almost
solely spent on testing the "Superman" that had ruined his abduction
of the imposter a week ago. He had a
good idea now of what the caped man was capable of and it would be a challenge
indeed to eradicate the scourge.
Larry's face broke into a malevolent grin at the thought. He loved a good challenge, but he had a
destiny to fulfill first. He needed to
concentrate now on finding a way to eliminate the imposter and take his place
as the one true Lex Luthor.
Immediately following his escape, it had
been ridiculously easy to invade Luthor's home. One might think it would be more difficult than ever, but Larry
knew that while the security team scrambled frantically to implement
stricter-than-ever protection methods, they couldn't immediately cover every
heretofore-unguarded nook and cranny.
And they were wrongly confident in their assumption that he would lay
low for a while. So it was, that he had
managed to slip in and out again, unnoticed, as he had installed some
surveillance tools of his own.
Unfortunately, the old housekeeper had shown up earlier than expected,
forcing him to abort his mission prematurely.
Now, a break-in would be much more
difficult. The roof, the stairwells,
the fire escapes...all heavily monitored.
It would not be impossible for him to breech the tight security,
but until he had knowledge of the whereabouts of each and every surveillance
camera and guard post, he couldn't chance it.
At least he had had time to install some of his own cameras in Luthor's
bedroom.
That thought caused an immediate stirring
in his groin, and he quickly put his equipment and notes away before going to
his bedroom. He left the lights off,
making himself comfortable on the foot of his bed, in the dark. Picking up the remote, he turned his three
televisions on with a flick of his thumb, settling in patiently at the sight of
Luthor's empty bedroom, three cameras providing three different angles of the
large bed.
Larry had almost convinced himself that he
had installed cameras in the bedroom first because that was where Luthor and
his lover, Clark Kent, were most likely to give up any information, any secrets
that he could use against them. But at
the sight of Kent entering the bedroom now, Larry sat up straighter, eyes glued
to the screens, and knew that he was deluding himself, knew why he had really
planted cameras in the bedroom first.
Clark Kent was...beautiful. He
felt the familiar lust and anger building at the sight of the tall, perfect man
that should be his, not the imposter's.
And increasing his rage tenfold, was the memory of the little blurb he
saw just this morning in the newspaper; the announcement of Luthor's intention
to unite with Kent publicly in a commitment ceremony.
Luthor now appeared onscreen, and he and
Kent were smiling, laughing, talking, and Larry cursed in frustration yet again
that his own companion, Todd, had failed to bring him the audio equipment he
had wanted to install along with the cameras.
Larry knew that without the audio, his continued monitoring of these
cameras made him no more than a pathetic voyeur, but though disgusted with
himself, with his weakness, he still leaned forward eagerly, moving closer to
the screens.
Larry watched tensely as Kent began
stripping, pausing between the removal of each item of clothing to give his
lover a teasing smile. When he was
naked, every inch of his perfect body exposed, he stepped toward Luthor, moving
gracefully, stalking the smaller man, who was laughing and walking backwards,
hands held up, palms out, as if warding Kent off. In a sudden, almost inhumanly fast lunge, the sleek, muscled body
captured Luthor, dragging him in close and covering his lips in a deep kiss,
mouths open wide, flashes of tongue and teeth visible in the camera angle
playing on the middle television.
Kent broke the kiss and with a broad,
blinding smile, playfully pushed Luthor back onto the bed and began divesting
him of his clothing. Luthor watched him
through heavy-lidded eyes, biting down on his lower lip and wincing when Kent
drug his boxer briefs seductively off his hips, elastic momentarily catching on
his erection, then suddenly springing free, causing his swollen cock to bob and
weave for a moment. Larry could see
Kent laughing as he bent to kiss Luthor's lips, then began mouthing a trail
downward, tongue pausing to lave each nipple before drawing the little nub of
dark flesh between his lips and suckling.
The wet tongue continued downward, stopping long enough to thrust into
Luthor's navel, before finally landing on the very tip of his lover's penis.
Larry ground his teeth in anger and
frustration as he watched Kent wetly mouthing the shaft of the imposter's cock,
flat tongue bathing the rigid organ until it glistened, open-mouthed kisses
nibbling and sucking along the side.
Every loving look, every gentle smile Kent gave Luthor was captured
clearly by the camera that had been carefully concealed within the alarm clock
on the nightstand.
The beautiful young man ran his tongue
around his full lips, his eyes closing in bliss as he opened his mouth wide and
slid down over the bulbous knob of his lover's erection. Larry could see Kent's plump, wet, upper lip
sliding back and forth, caressing the ridge of the straining penis as he sucked
on just the head. Kent looked as if he
were in heaven, eating something indescribably delicious, a sharp contrast to
Larry's own companion, Todd, who couldn't manage to give even the most
rudimentary blowjob without gagging, eyes wide with alarm.
From this camera angle, a little to the
side and slightly behind the imposter's head, Larry could squint and
effectively imagine himself as the recipient of the teasing mouth-work,
and felt his own dick growing increasingly harder. He watched as Kent withdrew his lips, exposing the shiny wetness
of Luthor's cock, tapping the swollen head against the flat of his tongue,
before descending again, repeating the motion over and over, slowly and
seductively, sliding his mouth a little further down the shaft with each
plunge. Then his eyes opened and looked
intently up at Luthor as his mouth slipped down, down, down until his lips were
grazing the pale, sparse hair at the base.
Luthor rose up onto one elbow to reach
forward and stroke his lover's face, fingertips gliding over a hollowed cheek
before moving to weave through the thick, dark hair of the head that was now
vigorously bobbing over his crotch.
Kent tirelessly swallowed his lover's erection again and again and soon,
Larry could see the muscles of Luthor's body twitch and tighten, even as his
own muscles grew tense. Larry thought
he may reach a climax of his own just by watching the exquisite young Kent in
action, but he let himself be distracted by the view on another television screen,
a camera angle that allowed him to see Luthor's face in his moment of release,
head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, and features twisted with
pleasure...pleasure that should have been mine, Larry thought angrily.
If this were himself and Todd, Larry thought
bitterly, at this point Todd would be rushing to the bathroom, retching, to
wash out his mouth. Not Kent. Oh no, Kent swallowed everything his
lover gave him, then smiling and nuzzling his groin, he lapped gently at
Luthor's cock and balls and lower, underneath, cleaning every crack, every
crevice like a mother cat cleans a kitten, only stopping reluctantly because
Luthor's body was twitching in post-orgasmic sensitivity. They were laughing, Larry saw, as Luthor
drew his legs together and playfully pushed Kent's head away from his, no doubt
hypersensitive genitals.
But now the imposter was spreading his
legs wide again and pulling Kent up into his arms, kissing him lazily,
possessively. Larry watched with barely
contained fury as Luthor wrapped a hand around Kent's rigid penis, rubbing and
pressing it against his own belly, before raising his legs to hook them over
his lover's hips, offering his body in blatant invitation. Kent pulled away, just long enough to
retrieve a bottle of lubrication and tissues from the nightstand, leaning in so
close to the camera in the alarm clock that Larry could clearly see, in minute
detail, every one of the sparse dark hairs that furrowed smoothly down the
muscled chest...felt that he could almost reach out and touch the bulging
biceps that moved ever closer to the camera.
Kent returned to his position between
Luthor's legs, and side-by-side television screens allowed Larry to
simultaneously see each man's face, see their knowing smiles and heated looks
as they stroked each other's chests, teased each other's nipples, caressed each
other's faces. Larry could see their
lips moving, but was suddenly glad he didn't have audio because just the
thought of what they were saying to each other was making him nauseous. Kent nodded and smiled in response to
something Luthor said and after squeezing some of the lubrication from the
little bottle onto his fingertips, he leaned forward to lick and suck his
lover's lips before thrusting his tongue inside. Luthor's slim body arched and squirmed beneath him, as one of
Kent's hands disappeared between his lover's legs and the other reached up to
pet his smooth scalp.
Larry moved closer and knelt in front of
the televisions, the flickering light playing over his cruel features. "Whore," he hissed, as Luthor
lifted his legs, tilting his hips up and spreading his ass. Rising up onto his knees, Kent took his
erection in hand and slowly, carefully penetrated his partner, his strong
thighs surrounding Luthor's buttocks.
Larry trembled with rage at the look of pure ecstasy and peace that
spread over Luthor's face. My
ecstasy, Larry thought, my peace.
With palms laying flat, fingers splayed,
Kent stroked the underside of Luthor's thighs, slipping down and under to
caress his bottom, then gliding back up to rest behind his knees, pushing them
higher and spreading them wide. Hard
and aroused, Larry watched the performance playing before him. Watched as Kent thrust increasingly faster
and harder; watched as both men's faces grew shiny with sweat; watched as the
lusty mating reached its natural conclusion and Kent's beautiful face crumpled
in ecstatic release.
Darkly furious, Larry stood to go in
search of the pitiful substitution for Clark Kent he had been using, knowing
that what Todd had to offer would leave him frustrated and unsatisfied. He had tried to make the fucking better,
more intense by calling Todd, "Clark", but after almost a week of
seeing the real Clark Kent in action, he was tired of pretending.
So he would have to use Todd tonight, but
he consoled himself with the decision he had just reached; before the month was
out...no, before that commitment ceremony took place, Clark Kent would belong
to him and the imposter would be dead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Saturday, December 18th
Jonathan stood in front of the
refrigerator, sipping his early morning coffee and running his hand over his
head while reading for the umpteenth time, the little card that was stuck to
the fridge door with a magnet.
"Are they really going to do this?" he asked with a weary
sigh.
"Jonathan?" Martha looked up from the list she was
scrutinizing to study her husband, her head tilted in question and a trace of
hurt in her eyes. "Where's that
tone coming from? You said you were
okay with this. The ceremony is less
than a week away, we're meeting with the planner today, and the flowers and
food are already paid for. Please don't
have a change of heart now. It would
hurt Clark so badly."
Jonathan crossed the room to sit at the
table beside Martha saying, "Relax, honey." He paused to sigh again, deeply before continuing, "I am
okay with it. It's just...Clark says he
has a right to his feelings; that he has a right to stand up before God and
everybody and commit himself for life to Lex."
Martha nodded, saying, "He does,
Jon. He's happy with Lex. They're happy together."
"I know, I know. So I support his decision. I’m okay with this. But I have feelings too, Martha. Can't I at least feel a little disappointed
that my son's life didn't turn out the way I imagined? Don't I have a right to my
feelings?"
Martha picked up her husband's calloused
hand and placed a soft kiss on it before answering, "You do, sweetie. You have a right to your feelings, too. Just do me a favor? Share your feelings with me. Don't upset Clark, please? He has enough to deal with right
now." She kissed his hand again,
before asking, "This isn't about Lex, is it?"
"No, Martha. It really isn't. You know that. Lex is a
pretty good guy," he said before chuckling a little and saying, "I
remember a day when you probably thought you would never hear me say
that."
Martha laughed a little and agreed,
"I remember those days too."
Then her smile grew softer.
"I also remember how happy you made Clark the first time you said,
'You know...for a Luthor, Lex isn't half bad'," she said in a deep,
perfect imitation of Jonathan's booming voice.
"Clark knew what you were trying to say," she said with a fond
smile.
She went back to squinting at the checklist,
asking, "Jonathan, are you about ready to go? We're supposed to meet the boys at the chapel at ten-thirty, and
it's going to take about three hours to get there. It's just this side of Metropolis."
"I'll be ready, soon as I finish my
coffee," he said, taking another sip.
"And don't forget...we need to stop
at Mr. Anderson's farm to pick up the Christmas trees on the way. Let's see how many we need to bring,"
she said, flipping her list over to consult the other side. "Goodness! Three for the Daily Planet offices, five for LexCorp, one for the
chapel, and two for Clark and Lex. It's
so sweet of them to give Mr. Anderson the business. He and Minnie have really been struggling to make ends
meet."
"That's a lot of trees. Good thing Bill said we could borrow the
flatbed." Jonathan looked puzzled
for a moment before asking, "Why do Clark and Lex need two trees?"
Martha stood and crossed the room to put
her coffee cup in the sink, mumbling something under her breath that Jonathan
couldn't quite make out.
"What's that honey," he asked.
"For the bedroom. I said that they want one of the trees for
their bedroom," Martha repeated a little more loudly than she had
intended.
"Why would they...wait a minute. Is this kind of like the ring?" Jonathan
asked, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt.
"If by 'kind of like the ring' you
mean, 'does it have something to do with'," and Martha whispered the next
word to protect Jonathan's apparently delicate sensibilities, "sex,
then yes. I'm pretty sure it's 'kind of
like the ring'," she said with a little smile. "All Clark said was that a tree in the bedroom is one of
their Christmas traditions. I didn't
ask for details."
"Good God," Jonathan said. "Is everything with those two
about sex?"
Martha pursed her lips and thought for a
moment, as though the question hadn't been meant rhetorically. "Well, they do seem to have a very
satisfying love life."
"Stop, stop," Jonathan said,
holding his hands up in surrender.
"I have my limits and a discussion about Clark's love life is
definitely pushing the boundaries of them."
Martha giggled as she began wiping the
tabletop with a dishrag. "Finish
your coffee, Jonathan."
Jonathan took another swallow from his mug
before propping his chin in his hand, sighing again, and saying, "You
know, I'd be a lot more okay with this ceremony of theirs if they didn't
want me to stand up and say something at the reception."
"Of course! I should have known," Martha said, laughing. "That's what's really bothering
you." Jon grinned at her a little
and she continued, "It won't be so bad.
Have you come up with anything yet?"
"I've got a few ideas."
She settled back into her chair, folded
her arms, and smiled encouragingly.
"Let's hear what you've got so far."
"Well, I thought I would start by
saying, 'Clark, Lex... today is the first day of the rest of your
lives." Jonathan stopped, puzzled,
when Martha winced and began shaking her head.
"What? What's wrong with
that?"
"Nothing's wrong with it. It's just...let's see if we can come up with
something a little more original for you," she suggested cautiously.
"That wasn't original?" Jonathan
asked, genuinely confused.
"No, sweetie. That was...well... a platitude."
"A what-a-tude?"
Martha giggled. "A platitude. You
know, a tired old cliche. You sometimes
have a tendency to use them a bit much," she gently explained.
"I do not..."
"You do," she interrupted
bluntly, then quickly added, "sweetheart," to soften the blow.
"I could change it to something like
'Lex, why are you buying the cow when you're apparently already getting lots
of milk for free', if you'd rather," Jonathan suggested helpfully. "Is that better?"
"Jonathan!" Martha scolded,
slapping him on the arm. Then with a kiss
to his cheek before heading for the door, "I think it needs more
work."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The long, black limousine rolled smoothly
down the highway leading to the outskirts of Metropolis. Clark tilted his head to better enjoy the
clear blue, cloudless sky outside the window, breathing in deeply the air that
was growing increasingly fresher as they left the city behind. For a moment, he was almost able to forget
the bodyguards riding in the front of the limo as well as the ones following
them in a separate car.
Lex's mind was apparently following the
same line of thought, for he said, "It would be nice if Lewis could be
apprehended before the ceremony. I'm
not sure there'll be enough room in the chapel for all the bodyguards."
"Lex...I just thought of
something," Clark said suddenly.
"What if Lewis pulls one of his tricks during the ceremony, and
'Superman' has to rush off? Oh
god..."
"Relax, Clark. We'll manage. Let's see. What could we
tell the guests," Lex mused aloud.
"Got it. Before the
ceremony even begins, we'll tell the guests that I'm expecting an unavoidable
business call and that we may have to interrupt the ceremony for a little
while."
"Lex..."
"I know, it's not a great explanation
and everyone would think I was a jerk for taking a call during the ceremony,
but...can you think of something better?"
"No," Clark sighed. "I'm just going to have to find the guy
before then," he said, smiling weakly at Lex. "We haven't heard from him since the bomb in the daycare,
but I know he hasn't just gone away.
He's planning something, but it's not going to be easy to find him when
he won't come out of hiding."
Clark turned his head to stare out at the passing scenery, mumbling,
"Like I haven't got enough problems without Larry Lewis screwing
everything up."
Lex looked up quickly at that remark, eyes
intent on Clark's face.
"Clark? What do you
mean? Is something wrong?"
Eyes downcast, Clark said hesitantly,
"Not really. Nothing new
anyway."
"This is about the ceremony, isn't
it," Lex asked quietly.
"People at work still giving you a hard time?"
"Yes. No, I mean...they aren't doing anything intentionally. It's just...it's funny how uncomfortable
people have been around me since we made the announcement. Suddenly, they have trouble making eye
contact or saying anything more than an awkward 'Hi Clark'." Clark thought for a moment, his forehead
creased in confusion, before continuing.
"They've known for a long time now that we live together, and most
of them have been pretty cool about that.
I'm just not sure why the idea of two guys truly loving each
other, committing themselves to each other for life, is so much harder to
accept."
"Give them time, Clark. People are uncomfortable with what they
don't understand. You know that,
babe," Lex said soothingly.
"The ones that matter will come around and eventually accept the
idea of this, too. The ones that
don't? Well, who needs them?" he
said, smiling.
"I know, I know. Those people aren't really the problem
though." Clark's eyes suddenly
grew more shadowed, and he bit his lip before continuing. "I've gotten some hate
mail...anonymous, of course," he said with a bitter twist of his
lips. "I'll get one of these
letters at work, and god...where does all that hatred come from? What did I ever do to these people," he
asked, looking up at Lex with confused eyes.
He sighed deeply. "So after
reading one of these letters, to make myself feel better, I look around for a
friendly face, and no one will look me in the eye." Clark paused briefly, looking down at his
feet before saying, "I wasn't going to tell you about this. It just gets to be too much sometimes, you
know?"
"Clark, you're supposed to
tell me these things. We're in this
together. You get these letters because
we're in the public eye. We're easy
targets, but my secretary screens my mail, so I don't have to deal with
it. I'm so sorry that you have to
handle this alone on a daily basis."
Lex moved closer to Clark and slipped his fingertips under Clark's chin,
gently nudging up until Clark met his eyes.
"Call me, Clark...at work.
Anytime it gets to be too much, just call."
Clark nodded before closing his eyes and
leaning forward to touch his forehead to Lex's. "Well, at least the people from work who are actually
invited to the ceremony are okay with everything. Lois, Jimmy, and Perry have been great."
"See? There you go. The people
who matter, the people who are going to be there for us, will all be friendly
faces," Lex said encouragingly.
"Speaking of people who will be there...Bruce called to RSVP. I invited them to stay with us when they
come for the ceremony."
"Bruce? Staying at the penthouse?" Clark asked, trying for
nonchalance and failing miserably.
"Clark? Is that a problem?"
"No!
No, not at all. I just... No,
it's fine," he said a little shortly.
Lex paused for a moment, knowing what was
worrying Clark. He reached up to cup
Clark’s face in his palm, softly stroking his thumb over the full bottom lip,
before saying, his voice gentle, "Clark, we were kids. It's ancient history."
"I know, Lex. It's not a problem...really. Besides, I know he's with Dick now."
Lex leaned into Clark, until their bodies
were pressed closely together, faces barely an inch apart, before murmuring
softly, "Even if he weren't with Dick, I would still want you. Only you, Clark." He covered Clark’s mouth in a deep kiss
meant to prove his words true. Lex knew
that Clark would need that reassurance when he found out that Dick would not be
coming with Bruce and Alfred.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Oh, Clark," Martha said, a
little breathless. "It's
beautiful!" She turned around
slowly in the little chapel, taking in the graceful stone arches and elaborate
stained-glass panels behind the marble altar.
"Isn't it great?" Clark
asked. He ran a hand down the smooth,
carved wood of the heavy benches.
"Lex said these pews are from around 1805, but everything else is
original." He smiled, remembering
the first time he had seen the chapel.
When they had first begun making plans,
right after Thanksgiving, Clark had said that he wanted a very traditional and
romantic ceremony, beautiful and dignified.
Lex had smiled a very mysterious smile and said, "I know where we
can have the ceremony," then had refused to answer any of Clark's
questions adding, "Just let me show you."
They had driven outside the city limits of
Metropolis and turned off the main highway onto a rural road, then after a
short distance, turned onto an even smaller road, heavily flanked by old trees
whose branches formed a dense canopy above them. Then Clark had seen it.
In a clearing at the end of the wooded
lane, was an ancient-looking stone chapel, a charming, miniature version of the
old stone mansion in Smallville. Pulling
into the circular drive that wound in front of the chapel, Lex had asked,
"Well, Clark. What do you
think?" He had watched his lover
closely as he stepped out of the car, smiling then laughing at the huge smile
that had covered Clark's face.
"This is perfect, Lex. What is this place?"
"This would be the Luthor ancestral
family chapel," Lex had said with a pleased grin. "It was originally located on the
castle grounds of the property in Scotland.
My father had it shipped over at the same time as the castle, but Mom
fell in love with the chapel, so my Dad brought it here, close to Metropolis,
instead of sending it to Smallville."
Lex had stared at the quaint little building, his eyes growing distant
with old memories as he added, "Mom was really sick by then, and couldn't
travel far. She came here every day
that she was able...until she was hospitalized."
Clark had moved to stand behind Lex,
wrapping his arms around Lex's waist and pressing a loving kiss to his neck
before whispering in his ear, "It's beautiful, Lex. Thank you." They had gone into the little chapel, and after giving Clark a
tour, Lex had guided him to one of the pews where they had sat, discussing
their plans in hushed tones as if the deity that neither was even sure existed
was present, listening. After some
discussion, they had both agreed upon traditional, religious vows for the
ceremony.
Lex had been taught by his father, that
god and religion was for the weak-minded, a fairy-tale invented by those in
power to keep the underlings in check.
But when Lex had learned the secret of Clark's origins, he found himself
wondering about other seemingly impossible things, about the conceivable
existence of god. After all, before the
first appearance of "Superman", there had been billions of people who
hadn't believed there was intelligent life on other planets because they had
never seen proof of it, but it hadn't made Clark any less real.
And though Jonathan and Martha Kent had
never been deeply religious people, had not attended Sunday church services on
a regular basis, they had raised Clark to believe that there was a higher power
that was all-knowing and omnipotent.
For most of his life, Clark had accepted this in a vague and unquestioning
way, but when his parents told him where he had come from, he had begun to
rethink everything. He had even
wondered about the possibility that someone from his planet, or another, had
visited earth at the dawn of mankind, inspiring primitive man's first concept
of and belief in a divine being.
And so it was that Lex and Clark found
their beliefs meeting squarely in the middle, as was often the case, though
they came from diametrically opposing backgrounds. Unsure and ambivalent, but both wanting to believe in
something greater than themselves.
There in the Luthor ancestors' place of
worship, they had sat on a hard, wooden bench, their soft whispers mingling
with gentle nuzzling, chaste kisses becoming deep and passionate, hands roaming
tenderly. And despite what some in the
religious community believed about love between two people of the same sex, Lex
and Clark had both agreed...it felt right. And if there was a god, they had felt no censure from him as they
loved each other that day in the chapel.
Clark, lost in his memories, jumped a
little when his mother suddenly brought him back to the present with,
"Clark?" She laughed softly
and asked, "Should I even ask you what you're thinking about? That's an awfully big smile."
He put his arm around her waist, grinned
down at her, and answered simply, "Just happy about the ceremony. Everything's falling into place, Mom."
A pleasant, feminine voice behind them
agreed, "It sure is. I've never
seen a ceremony come together so beautifully in just one month's time."
"Carol...hi," Clark said. "Carol, I'd like you to meet my
Mom. Mom, this is the ceremony planner,
Carol."
"Hello, Carol. We've spoken on the phone a few times,"
Martha said, smiling graciously.
"Well, this is our last meeting
before the ceremony, so let's compare notes and see if we've got everything
covered," Carol said cheerfully, leading Clark and Martha over to a pew
and calling, "Come on, guys," to Jonathan and Lex who had just
completed Lex's tour of the chapel and were discussing how the ancient building
had been reconstructed when it was brought over from Scotland.
"All right, Martha...you're taking
care of the flowers, correct?"
Martha nodded. "Red and white roses and baby's breath...lots of
greenery...holly and ivy. And Jonathan
and I brought the Christmas tree. We'll
set it up before we leave, but it's going to be decorated with fresh flowers
and candles, so we'll have to wait until the morning of the ceremony to finish
it."
Carol nodded approvingly. "I like it. That sounds beautiful...simple and elegant." She looked at Clark and Lex and continued,
"And your friend Lana is taking care of the catering, right?"
Lex answered, "Spoke with her
yesterday. It's under control."
"Between your family and friends,
there really isn't much for me to do. I
almost feel guilty taking your money," Carol said with a sly
smile. She consulted her notes again,
and her smile faded as she looked up.
"I do have some bad news.
Lex, the priest you wanted to perform the ceremony is not going to be
able to do it. The bishop has forbidden
him to," she said softly, before adding, "I'm sorry."
Lex shrugged, hoping his disappointment
didn't show. The priest had been the
one to christen Lex and had attended his mother during her illness, performing
last rites at her death. It would have
been nice to have him officiate and Lex knew it would have pleased his mother,
but he wasn't surprised...had expected it really, knowing the Catholic church’s
position on gay unions. Apparently not
even the Luthor name and money could influence the bishop's feelings on the
matter. He asked simply, "What do
we do now?"
"I know a wonderful Unitarian
minister that performs a lot of same-sex unions in the Metropolis area. He said he would be honored to perform the
ceremony for you. I've already asked
him to pencil you in, I just need to confirm it with him if you guys
approve," Carol said.
Clark and Lex looked at each other for a
moment before nodding simultaneously, Clark answering, "That sounds
fine. Go ahead and confirm. Thanks, Carol."
Carol smiled in understanding. "He's a great guy. He'll make sure your ceremony is dignified
and special. And your parents are going
to speak at the reception, right?
That's going to be a nice, personal touch."
Lex's face was smooth and unreadable as he
said, "Well, Jonathan and Martha will be speaking. My father isn't going to be able to
attend."
"Oh Lex," Martha began, her face
full of concern.
Lex smiled reassuringly at her, waving a
hand dismissingly. "It's all
right, Martha...really. I didn't expect
him to be able to get away. He's in
Europe through January."
There was a moment of uncomfortable
silence before Jonathan slipped a heavy hand onto Lex's shoulder, giving it a
little squeeze and saying, "Well, we'll manage without him or that
priest." Jonathan never even
noticed the approving smile Martha was bestowing on her big, gruff,
opinionated, and sometimes... surprisingly soft-hearted husband.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wednesday,
December 22nd
"What do you see, Clark?"
The handsome, dark-haired man sitting
behind the steering wheel, binoculars in hand, rolled his eyes upward and
ground his teeth in frustration. Todd...my
name's Todd, he reminded himself silently, carefully hiding his irritation
from the large, bald man slouched in the back seat.
Todd had known Larry for years. They had been incarcerated in the same
mental institution for the criminally insane, and the younger man had not been
surprised at all when Larry had escaped; he had done it before, after all. Larry was the smartest guy he knew. They said he was a genius. Todd was surprised however, when late
one night, Larry, with a freshly-shaven head, had returned for him and under
cover of darkness, had executed another brilliant escape, this time, Todd's.
Everyone at the nuthouse knew about
Larry's obsession with Lex Luthor...knew that Larry wanted to be Lex
Luthor. But Todd had not understood how
serious the delusion was until he found himself out of the hospital and on the
run with Larry, where he quickly realized the reason he had been
"rescued" - his vague resemblance to Lex Luthor's lover, Clark Kent.
In the days and nights that followed, Todd
had been horrified to learn that he was expected to play the part of Larry's
lover. He could do it... had to
do it now. Larry was the only thing
standing between Todd and the scary voices; the same voices that had forced him
to kill his parents years ago. Todd's
blue eyes filled with tears at the memory...the memory of his mother screaming,
his father begging, and blood everywhere.
Todd had been deemed unfit to stand trial
and had been incarcerated and treated with drugs...drugs that had cleared his
mind and forced the voices to retreat.
Larry now kept him supplied with the medicines he needed.
Todd didn't understand how Larry was able
to meet their every need - money, drugs, information - by sitting in front of
his computer, tapping away at the keys, but he knew that he wouldn't survive a
day without his bald companion. So he
tolerated everything. He endured the
verbal abuse, the harsh and demanding orders, even the awkward and painful
sexual encounters, because the alternatives were even worse: recapture and a return to the hospital, to
his tiny cell that felt like a cage, or starving under a bridge with the city's
other homeless souls. And worst of all,
the return of the terrifying voices.
At the moment, sitting comfortably on the
plush leather seat in the warm car, stomach pleasantly full from the delicious
lunch he had just eaten, and nothing more strenuous to do than spy on Luthor's
lover, Todd was inclined to think he was getting a pretty fair deal. He lifted the binoculars again as another
group of people exited LexCorp Towers and a Mercedes pulled to a stop in front.
"There he is, Boss," Todd said,
using the only name other than "Lex" that his companion would accept
without violence. "Huh. Wonder why he doesn't travel with bodyguards
like Luthor does? I see Kent and the
old lady...the housekeeper. You want me
to grab him?"
"No.
It's too early. I want to do
this at night when we're less likely to be seen. Soon though," Larry said, coldly.
Todd nodded, fighting down an uneasy
thought that had just entered his mind.
Would Larry still keep him around when he had the real Clark Kent in his
possession?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Bruce!" Lex shook the outstretched hand before
pulling his old friend in for a brief hug.
"Good to see you, man. Come
in, come in." Lex reached around
Bruce to take the hand of the elderly gentleman standing behind him. "Alfred, it's good to see you
again."
Clark stood a little nervously beside Lex,
greeting Alfred first, then extending his hand to Bruce. "Hello Bruce," he said, shaking
the man's hand before asking, a puzzled look on his face, "Where's
Dick? Is he parking the car?"
Bruce looked curiously at Lex, who quickly
dropped his eyes to the floor.
"I'm afraid something's come up and Dick isn't going to be able to
make it," Bruce answered smoothly.
Clark glanced at Lex and there was a
moment of awkward silence before Lex said, "I'm sorry to hear that. Well, come on in. Dinner will be ready shortly.
Can I interest you gentlemen in a glass of brandy while we
wait?" Lex placed a hand on
Alfred's shoulder, guiding the old man gently towards the study.
Bruce smiled at Clark, that enigmatic
smile that always put Clark on his guard and threw him a little off
balance. He indicated with his hand
that Clark should go first and that he would follow, and as they walked down
the hallway, Clark could feel Bruce's eyes on his back and he had to fight the
uncomfortable urge to squirm.
Entering the study, Clark moved to stand
beside Lex as their guests settled comfortably in leather armchairs. His fingers nervously traced the etched
patterns in the glass of the dry bar cabinets as Lex poured two snifters of
brandy, then turned to hand them to Clark, saying quietly, "Could you give
these to Bruce and Alfred, babe," before pouring two more for himself and
Clark.
Clark's eyes widened a bit at the
endearment, a pet name Lex normally used only when they were alone. He knew that Lex was trying to reassure him,
that he had seen the insecurity in his eyes, and Clark was frustrated with himself
for being so transparent, especially in front of Bruce. After serving their guests, he returned to
Lex's side, taking the snifter that was held out to him, surprised yet again
when Lex reached down to take his free hand, lacing their fingers together and
squeezing. Clark looked up at Lex,
their eyes meeting for just an instant before Lex gave him a quick, soft smile,
then turned to his guests. "So how
is everything in Gotham these days?"
As the four men engaged in small talk,
Clark was acutely aware of Bruce's studious gaze on him and Lex. He saw the man's dark eyes flicker down to
their clasped hands and back up to meet Clark's eyes, his lips curving in the
faintest of smiles. Try as he might,
Clark couldn't begin to fathom the meaning behind the smile and realized that
that was why Bruce unsettled him so badly.
Was Bruce amused? Mocking? Jealous?
Or simply pleased that his old friend had found happiness? Clark again found himself struggling not to
fidget and was relieved when Mary called them to dinner.
The meal passed pleasantly. Mary joined them; normally, she ate a light
snack in the late afternoon, saying that an old woman her age couldn't eat such
heavy meals so close to bedtime. But
Clark had noticed that on the occasions Alfred visited, she would make an
exception to this rule, apparently enjoying his company enough to brave
indigestion.
Clark surveyed his dinner companions. Mary and Alfred were quietly conversing over
dessert while Lex and Bruce, laughing loudly, reminisced over some of their
more adventurous exploits at Excelsior Prep.
Occasionally, Lex would attempt to draw Clark into the conversation, but
it was a little hard to join in on a story about something that happened a
thousand miles away from Smallville and when Clark was only eight years
old. He really didn't mind though. Being left out and forgotten was infinitely
preferable to being the object of Bruce's intense scrutiny.
Clark was barely listening until he heard
Bruce's amused chuckle. "You never
could take me at fencing, Lex, and you never will. How about a match, tomorrow morning, to prove it? Though, I'm sure it will be more of a lesson
than a match."
Lex grinned good-naturedly. "You're on, you conceited
bastard."
Glancing over at Bruce, Clark discovered
that he was once again on the receiving end of the man's indecipherable
gaze. This time, though uncomfortable,
Clark returned the look and Bruce smiled, offering kindly, "Do you fence,
Clark? Why don't you join us?"
"I don't...I'm not really very
good," Clark said awkwardly.
"Lex has given me a few lessons, but apparently I have two left
feet," he admitted with a sheepish grin.
Bruce laughed and said, "Well, I'm a
much better teacher than Lex. You have
to know the sport to teach it," he said with a mischievous wink in
Lex's direction.
Clark considered. He knew that it was childish to worry about
Lex being alone with Bruce, but the offer was tempting. However, he had a job, he had
responsibilities, so he reluctantly answered, "I can't. There's a city council meeting tomorrow morning
that I'm supposed to cover."
"Maybe next time then," Bruce
said.
Clark nodded and smiled politely, standing
to help Mary as she began to clear the dinner dishes, and trying not to be
disturbed by the implication that Bruce and Lex would have a "next
time."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Why didn't you tell me Dick wasn't
coming?" The bedroom door had
barely closed behind them before Clark found the question spilling out of his
mouth.
Lex sighed deeply. "You don't waste any time do you?" He turned to rest his hands lightly on
Clark's waist before answering.
"Bruce mentioned that he and Dick were having some problems. I didn't say anything because I really
thought they would work things out and that Dick would be coming with
him." Lex pulled Clark's shirttail
from his waistband, untucking it to slip his hands under and rub the warm skin
beneath. "You're not happy about
the fencing match tomorrow either, are you?"
"Oh, I've got no problem with the
fencing. It's the shower in the gym
afterwards that's bothering me," Clark muttered darkly.
Lex's eyes lit up with amusement, his face
breaking into a grin. "You've been
watching too much porn, Clark.
Nothing's going to happen in the showers... promise."
"I don't have to watch porn to get
ideas about you, naked and wet and all alone with a guy you used to have sex
with, who will also be naked and wet," Clark said irately.
Lex reached up to rub Clark's shoulder,
asking gently, "Don't you know me better than that, Clark? Do you really think I would cheat on
you?" When Clark didn't answer, he
asked, "Why do you feel so threatened by Bruce? Yes, we fooled around when we were kids...experimented,
really. That's been over for so
long."
Clark looked away uncomfortably before
saying, "I think it's just that he's so...Bruce, you know? He's rich and charming. He's a big, good-looking, athletic guy. Why do you think I feel threatened?"
Lex laughed softly. "Jesus, Clark. You're Superman. How can anyone make you feel insecure?"
"I may be strong, fast, but I'm
not..." Clark looked embarrassed
for a moment before continuing, "Last month, 'Superman' flew into a
billboard, Lex. On the way to that
train derailment?" Clark held his
palms up and shrugged. "I just
didn't see it. It came out of
nowhere." Lex pressed his fingers
to his lips to cover his smile, but when Clark concluded, "Superman is a
clod," Lex couldn't stop the laugh that slipped out.
"You're not a clod," he said,
chuckling. "I'd like to see Bruce
Wayne travel faster than the speed of sound without running into
something."
Clark shook his head ruefully. "I do stuff like that all the time,
though. Bruce is sophisticated. No one will ever use the word 'sophisticated'
to describe me."
Lex pulled Clark closer before saying,
"The point is, you made it to the scene of that accident and saved a lot
of lives. Just remember...I love you
just the way you are." Lex tilted
his head to look up into Clark's eyes and gave him a crooked little grin before
leaning up to touch his mouth to Clark's ear, whispering, "I'm marrying
you, Clark. That's got to tell you
something."
Clark shivered at Lex's words. They had talked about the
"ceremony", the "union", the "commitment", but
this was the first time Lex had referred to what they were doing as
"marriage" and Clark was surprised at the depth of feeling that a
simple word could provoke. He nodded,
then pressed his mouth to Lex's, their lips merging together moist and hot. Lex reached up to slide one hand behind
Clark's neck, rubbing up and down his lover's strong back with his other
hand. Their lips parted and they were
both breathless when Lex said, "Come on, Clark. Let's go to bed. You have
an early morning tomorrow."
Together, they went into the dressing
room, stripping and slipping into pajama bottoms before continuing to the
bathroom, standing together at the matching sinks, washing their faces,
brushing their teeth, comfortably sharing their nightly routine.
Finishing first, Lex turned to lean
against the sink, saying, "You know, Clark, for what it's worth, even if I
had never met you, I wouldn't be with Bruce.
He's a great friend, dependable, there if you need him. But he has some...control issues. You and I have a lot of give and take in our
relationship. We're equals. Bruce is different; he always has to have
the upper hand."
"Are you talking about...do you mean
sexually," Clark asked, rinsing his toothbrush and returning it to the
holder. He stepped close to Lex,
casually wrapping his arms around his Lex’s slim hips.
Lex smiled. "He has to have control in every situation, but
yes...in sex, too. Bruce was the first
person who ever fucked me, but in all of our playing around, he never let me
enter him. I wouldn't be surprised if
he's never been a bottom. Ever."
Clark leaned in for a kiss, then murmured,
"Do you ever mind? When I'm the
top, I mean?"
"Mind? I love it, Clark. I love
everything we do." Lex brushed
another soft kiss to Clark's moist lips before whispering, "But tonight,
I'm going to be on top and you're going to wear the ring. And you're going to wear it all day
tomorrow. Every time you find yourself
wondering what Bruce and I are doing at the gym, you'll stop and feel
how much I love you, and you're going to remember that you give me something
Bruce never could."
Clark drew a shuddering breath and nodded,
smiling. "Okay...all right."
Lex took a clean towel from the cabinet
and hands clasped, fingers interlocked, they left the bathroom. After tossing the towel over to the bed,
they paused at the dresser and Lex opened the tiny lead box that sat nestled
amidst their watches and cufflinks. He
pulled Clark's hand to his lips, wetly mouthing the knuckles before
straightening Clark's long fingers and sliding on the band of platinum. Foreheads together, they looked down at
Clark's hand between them, the tiny green chip in the ring already giving off a
faint, green glow.
Clark tilted his head, sliding his cheek
against Lex's, nuzzling the warm space beneath his lover's ear before moving
lower to suck the smooth skin of Lex's neck.
When he increased the suction, drawing the soft flesh into his mouth,
Lex moaned. Clark inhaled deeply, dizzy
as much from Lex's familiar and heady scent as from the kryptonite in the
ring. He felt Lex's fingers slide into
his hair then tighten, gently pulling back until the strong suction of Clark's
mouth broke loose with a wet pop.
Lex, eyelids half-closed and breathing
heavily, looked questioningly at his lover.
"Clark?"
Clark whispered hoarsely, "I want to
give you something, too; something to take with you tomorrow. When you're at the gym, in the
showers...you'll see it in the mirror. He'll
see it."
"Oh, Clark," Lex breathed,
nodding before tilting his head back to offer the column of his throat, urging
Clark's head back down with the press of his hand and guiding Clark’s mouth
back to the still-tingling spot on his neck.
The strong, almost painful suckling resumed and Lex arched into it, the
erection that now tented his pajama bottoms bumping against Clark's hip. Lex's hands tightened, clenched for a
moment, on Clark's waist, then relaxed and slid up over his lover's ribs,
thumbs coming to rest on dark, already pebbled nipples, eliciting a deep shudder
from Clark when his forefingers joined his thumbs to pinch and pull the little
nubs.
When Lex felt the answering graze of
Clark's hardness against his own, he slid his hands back down and around to cup
and squeeze Clark's ass, grabbing fistfuls of Clark’s thin cotton pajama pants
and tugging until his lover's smooth, muscular bottom was exposed to the cool
air. He stroked and massaged, slipping
his hand between the firm cheeks and rubbing, burrowing deeper, the side of his
forefinger sliding across Clark's puckered hole with each glide of his
hand. When Lex gently wriggled the tip
of his finger into the dry opening, Clark's legs began to tremble and Lex
finally moved away, taking Clark's hand and pulling him towards the bed, his
voice husky as he murmured, "Come on, baby."
Clark gave him a shaky smile and said,
"Just a minute," holding the waistband of his pajama bottoms with one
hand and walking over to the large Christmas tree in the corner of the bedroom,
bending over to flip the switch that turned the twinkling lights on. At the sight of Clark's upraised and naked
bottom, pajama pants barely staying up at all, Lex's breath caught in his
throat and he had to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. He quickly crossed the room to turn off the
overhead light, leaving them bathed in only the sparkling white points of
light, blinking hypnotically on the tree.
He met Clark at the edge of the bed,
reconnecting with a deep kiss before gently turning him, running a warm palm up
his back and pushing, urging Clark's body downward. Sliding his hands over the
lean hips, he drew the pajamas down until they slipped to the floor. Clark's breath was coming in short, quiet
huffs as he bent over the bed and spread his thighs for Lex, who moved quickly
to gather their supplies from the nightstand.
Sitting beside Clark's hips, Lex lubricated his fingers before leaning
down to kiss the dark head pressed into the thick bedspread. Clark turned his head to face Lex, their
eyes locking as Lex slid his middle finger deep into Clark's body, gliding it
in and out until Clark moaned and his eyelids fluttered and closed.
Lex tried to slip a second finger in, but
was met with tight resistance. He
pulled at the edges of Clark's anus, gently stretching and murmuring,
"You're so tense tonight...relax, Clark."
"I'm trying, Lex. I don't know what's wrong."
Leaning over to cover Clark's mouth in a
kiss, Lex gently rubbed at the tight, slippery opening with the tip of his
forefinger as his middle finger continued to tug and stretch. He moved his lips to Clark's ear to whisper,
"Relax," and when the second finger squeezed in, "That's
it." He continued to stroke and
twist, but when he tried to push a third finger in, Clark hissed and gave a
little cry of pain, his body clenching tightly. Lex carefully withdrew his fingers and fell back on the bed.
"What's wrong, Clark? We don't have to do this tonight if you
don't want to."
"I want to...really. I'm just having trouble relaxing. It's…I don’t know...everything, I
guess." Clark sighed and leaned
over to kiss Lex's chin. "Don't
give up on me. Please?"
"Well, if you're sure, I have
a suggestion. Why don't we take the
ring off just until I'm inside and you're stretched, then we can put it back on
you." Lex's smile became a
lopsided grin as he added, "Don't worry, when I'm done with you, you'll
still be able to feel it tomorrow."
Clark nodded, eyelids heavy with
arousal. "Yeah. That works for me." As Lex went to the dresser to get the little
lead box, Clark stood and turned the bedspread down, spreading the towel over
the flannel sheets and crawling up to settle comfortably on his back with his
hips centered on the thick terrycloth.
Lex took the ring Clark slipped from his finger and dropped it in the
box, snapping the lid shut and placing the box on the nightstand before
stepping out of his own pajama bottoms and tossing them on top of Clark's.
Liberally coating his penis with slippery
gel, Lex moved between Clark's spread legs, looking up with a smile and saying,
"Okay, let's try this again."
Clark lifted his legs, bracing one hand on
Lex's shoulder as his lover's thick cock slid in deeply, and threw his head
back on the pillow moaning, "Oh yeah...that's it. That's better."
Several easy thrusts later, Lex said,
"Tell me when you're ready for the ring, babe."
"Now. Onnnhhh...yeah, now," Clark gasped, his face relaxed and
showing his intense pleasure, eyes glazing over with it.
Lex lay heavily on Clark's chest for a
moment, sucking and nibbling at his lover's full lips before propping himself
on one elbow and stretching his arm out to retrieve the ring from the
nightstand. As he slid the smooth metal
onto Clark's finger, he looked up and saw the transformation on Clark's face,
the slight wince, the furrowed brow, teeth biting into his lower lip. Lex stroked Clark's forehead with gentle
fingertips until the skin was smooth and unlined again, asking, "You
okay?"
Clark met his eyes, smiling. "I'm great."
Lex laughed softly and murmured,
"Yeah, you are," and lay against Clark again, enjoying the feel of
their bare chests pressed together. He
covered Clark’s mouth in a sloppy kiss, his tongue sliding inside to rub
against Clark's tongue. Sliding his
cock in and out, in an unhurried and lazy rhythm, Lex sank into the slippery
heat of Clark's tight opening, moaning with the overwhelming sensation. He moved to nuzzle Clark's ear, whispering
so softly that his words were barely a ghost of breath, "You've got to
know...know how much I love you, Clark.
So much...so much."
Clark's head pressed harder into the
pillow, his back arching a little more with each slow thrust. "I know, Lex. Oh god...I love you, too."
He reached up, putting his hands on Lex's waist and pulling him in. "Harder, please...oh fuck."
Lex grinned and kissed the side of Clark’s
face. “You like that? God, I love it when I make you say ‘fuck’,”
he teased. At Clark’s answering smile,
he pressed close again to whisper into Clark’s ear, “You want it hard,
Clark? You like it when I slam my dick
into your tight hole?”
When Clark shivered and whispered, “Oh
fuck,” Lex laughed and kissed Clark again.
Rising to his knees, he moved his hips to give Clark what he needed,
thrusting hard and fast, their bodies slapping together, and the warm, pungent
scent of their lovemaking rising to wash over and through them. Clark hitched his knees up a little higher,
legs spread wide, and reached down to lay his large, warm palms on the tops of
Lex's thighs, stroking almost frantically, in time with Lex's thrusts. Lex looked down to watch their bodies
joining, merging together and becoming one, and it was almost too much for
him. His cock, shiny and slick,
vanishing into his lover's body, was stretching Clark to the limit, Clark's own
cock and balls swaying wildly with each hard thrust. Lex quickly squeezed his eyes tightly shut to try to delay the
inevitable, but he knew he wouldn't last much longer.
Breath coming too heavily, Lex barely
managed to gasp out, "Touch yourself.
Make yourself come, baby," then watched, enthralled by the sight of
Clark's fist closing around his leaking cock, squeezing and stroking until he
exploded, a jet stream of semen streaking his stomach and chest.
That sight alone was almost enough to make
Lex reach his own climax, but combined with Clark's voice, gravelly and rough,
groaning, "Unnnhhhh... Lex! Oh fuck,"
and Clark's tight hole contracting in jerky spasms, Lex gave up the last of his
control and slammed in one last time, balls drawing up tight and emptying, wet
heat flooding inside Clark.
Breathing hard, Lex gingerly lowered his
body, wilting on Clark. Sated and limp
in the sweet aftermath, he mouthed Clark's neck for long, drowsy minutes, too
lazy to form his lips into a proper kiss.
Clark's warm hand cupped his scalp, gently pulling Lex closer to press
soft, damp kisses to the smooth skin of his head, and Lex knew that if he lived
to be a hundred, he would never grow indifferent to the thrill he felt every
time Clark demonstrated not only that he was not repulsed by Lex's baldness,
but that he was drawn by it, enamored of it.
The large, careful hand stroking his head was almost worshipful, the
tongue that traced the vein at his temple paid homage.
As Lex lay, spent, on Clark, he thought of
the public commitment he would be making in just two nights and smiled a
little, pondering the turn his life had taken and wondering exactly when he had
made the transition from cold cynic to devoted romantic. That was something he rarely thought about
anymore, but tonight, he had noticed Bruce's intense, watchful eyes on him and
Clark, and he knew what his old friend was thinking: What happened to the Lex Luthor I used to know? Lex knew that it had been a gradual process;
a slow, inevitable change that had begun the day he met Clark.
Lex looked up at Clark's flushed face. A fine sheen of moisture covered his brow,
dampening the fringes of his dark curls, and his swollen, reddened lips were
parted, light, panting sighs gently escaping.
Seven years together and Lex was still struck speechless by Clark's
extraordinary beauty. He felt a
stuttering thud in the region of his heart and knew that the hopeless romantic
had always been there, inside him.
Clark had just made it safe to let him out.
Clark shifted beneath him and opened warm,
hazel-green eyes. Lex met his smiling
gaze, laughing softly when Clark wriggled again and said, "Oh yeah. I'm going to feel this tomorrow."
"Are you uncomfortable? Want me to pull out?"
Clark grinned and shook his head,
"No. I was thinking we could just
sleep like this all night, actually."
"I'm not as young as I used to be,
you know. Can't stay hard all
night," Lex replied with a crooked grin.
"I'm slipping out even as we speak." He stretched to place a quick kiss on Clark's nose. "Sorry."
Clark gave a mock, long-suffering sigh,
saying, "Oh, all right," then lifted his hips obligingly when Lex
withdrew from his body and began tugging at the towel beneath him. Clark lay still, spreading his legs wider
and enjoying Lex's tender ministrations as he thoroughly wiped the wetness from
Clark's body. When Lex finished and
dropped the towel over the side of the bed, on top of their abandoned pajama
bottoms, Clark slipped his hand around Lex's wrist, hauling him in close and
saying, "Come on, old man."
Burrowing deep into the flannel sheets and
chasing the December chill away with the blankets and their bodies, they lay on
their sides, Lex spooning in tightly behind Clark. Relaxed and drowsy, Lex looked through half-closed eyes at the
blinking Christmas tree in the corner of the room. "Mmmm...we should have had sex under the tree. After the ceremony and the reception you
might be too tired on Christmas Eve," he murmured sleepily.
Clark smiled and pulled Lex's hand up to
press a damp kiss to the palm, inhaling the musky scent of their lovemaking
that lingered there. "Not a
chance. I can't imagine ever
being too tired for our Christmas Eve tradition." Clark pressed Lex's now-moist palm tightly
to his chest and chuckled softly, "I would have to be dead."
Lex shivered a little at Clark's choice of
words and a vague uneasiness filled him, but he shrugged it off. His last thought before he drifted into
sleep was, Lucky thing no one can hurt Clark...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Strange.
Very strange, Larry
thought. This night found him, yet
again, sitting in his darkened bedroom, hard and aching, his malevolent
features lit only by the blue flickering light of his televisions.
He had been watching the men again...had
seen Luthor slip a ring on Kent's finger.
In the weeks that Larry had been monitoring the bedroom activities of
the two men, he had seen the ring before; sometimes worn by Luthor, sometimes
by Kent. As it was the only ring he had
ever seen either man wear, he was certain it was the ring...the one made
from green meteor rock.
He had gotten a good look at it once when
Luthor had been wearing it and had reached over to the nightstand, his hand
moving directly in front of the camera in the alarm clock. It looked nothing like Larry had imagined. The stone setting was so small...tiny
really, barely visible at all. Larry
had been a little disappointed to see that it looked nothing like the ring he
had had made for himself.
Since they only brought the ring out when
they fucked, Larry had almost decided that his original guess was correct...the
ring, and the choice of stone in it, were for sentimental reasons. But it hadn't taken Larry long to see a
pattern; the ring was only worn if Luthor were fucking Kent...not the other way
around. Still, Larry could believe the
ring merely had symbolic value. Until
tonight.
Larry had watched Luthor's attempts to
prepare his lover; saw the pain on Kent's face. But instead of stopping, Luthor had taken the ring and put it
back in its little box, and somehow, Kent was able to take Luthor's thick cock
without so much as a twinge, when just minutes earlier he had barely tolerated
his fingers. And most strange of
all...when Luthor paused in his thrusting to put the ring back on his lover,
the pained expression had immediately returned to Kent's face.
Yes...the ring definitely had a
physiological effect on Kent, made him somehow...more sensitive to pain? Weaker, perhaps? But why? While
experimenting with the stones, Larry hadn't noticed any effect on himself. Intrigued, he wondered how his own ring,
with its enormous stone, would affect Kent...what about the large chunks of
meteor rock in his living room? Larry
had been considering how he would keep Kent subdued when he took him for his
own and had assumed he would have to drug the man, but now he wondered if the
rocks could somehow be made to work just as well.
I'll find out soon enough, Larry thought, almost shivering with
anticipation. Plans were already
underway and by this time tomorrow night, Kent would be his.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part Four
Thursday, December 23rd
"Point."
Once again, Lex found himself on the tip
of Bruce's foil. They had fenced
several bouts, Bruce the victor in each one, but Lex at least had the
satisfaction of seeing that Bruce was more winded than he usually was after one
of their fencing sessions.
"Better, Lex. Definite improvement since the last time we
met. I'm actually sweating a little
bit," Bruce said in an incredulous voice, then smiled a rare, open smile
and added, "Just a little."
"Asshole," Lex said with a grin.
"Lex, Lex, that's not good
sportsmanship and you know it. Maitre
Didier would have you run the bleachers for that."
"Yes, well I haven't seen old man
Didier since we left Excelsior and since I have to be at the office in an
hour," Lex said, glancing at his watch, "I'm not running any
bleachers today...asshole."
Bruce laughed as they headed toward the
showers, opening his fencing jacket as they walked. "Oh...changing the subject...I hear you have a close,
personal relationship with Metropolis' "Superman" these days,"
Bruce said, glancing a sly look at Lex from the corner of his eyes.
Lex almost stumbled, asking as casually as
he could manage, "What?"
"Thanksgiving day? It was on the news, Lex. I believe you hurled all over the man,"
Bruce said, fighting laughter.
"I didn't hurl all over
him...just on his boots." Lex
smiled ruefully and shook his head.
"My finest hour, captured on the nightly news for the entire world
to see and then replayed over and over and over. Everyone in the free world has seen me puke."
"It's great being a public figure
isn't it," Bruce asked, giving in to the urge to laugh. "Anyway, you guys looked pretty
friendly. His hands were all over you."
"He was just being polite," Lex
said a little defensively. "At the
time, I wasn't exactly able to stand on my own two feet, and he's a decent
enough guy to not let me just keel over.
As soon as I could stand, he left to get Clark for me."
"Relax, Lex. I'm not seriously insinuating that you would
cheat on Clark, you know."
"Good, because I wouldn't. Superman isn't my type. He's a valuable and much-needed asset to
Metropolis, but he doesn't compare to Clark."
"So...what does he look like up
close? Superman, I mean. Good-looking?"
Lex smiled. "Not bad, but like I said...he's no Clark."
"Something about him reminds me of
Clark, actually; his height, his posture, the dark hair. I've wondered what his face looks
like," Bruce said. "They say
that the reason no one has ever gotten a good, clear picture is because the
suit he wears gives off a wave frequency that causes pictures and video images
of him to be blurred and distorted."
The conversation was getting uncomfortable
for Lex and his unease doubled when he looked up to see Bruce's eyes fixed
intently on him, dark and searching. He
nodded briefly and said, "Yeah...I heard that too," then desperate to
change the subject, "Gotham has it's own mystery, though. What do you know about the one they call Batman,
and his partner, Robin?"
Bruce shrugged. "I know that Batman has a very low tolerance for the
criminal element."
Entering the locker room, they grabbed
fresh towels from the shelves and began stripping. "I read in the newspaper a few months back that Robin was
wounded, that he’d been shot," Lex said.
"Yes. Batman and Robin are apparently not invulnerable...like
Superman."
For a split second, Lex thought that Bruce
seemed as uncomfortable with the conversation as he had earlier. But the moment passed when Bruce's face
broke into a large grin, his eyes fixed on Lex's neck. "Someone feeling a little
territorial?"
Lex looked puzzled, then remembered the
dark, reddish bruise on his neck and chuckled.
"You have that effect on Clark."
Bruce laughed. "I don't do it on purpose, Lex. I really don't. I like
Clark. I try my best to be friendly,
but every time I smile at him, he looks at me like he thinks I eat small
children for breakfast or something."
Lex was laughing too, as he agreed. "I'd be lying if I said you didn't make
him a little...nervous."
They stepped into adjoining shower stalls,
Bruce's voice calling out over the spray of water, "Seriously, I think
it's kind of nice...the mark on your neck, I mean. It shows Clark cares. He
wants everyone to know you're taken."
Lex heard the words that remained
unspoken, and considered for just a moment whether he should get involved,
before asking, "You going to tell me?"
"Tell you what?"
"What's going on with you and
Dick."
The silence from the neighboring shower
stall went on so long, Lex didn't think Bruce was going to answer. Then, "He's cheating on me."
Oh.
Wishing that he had chosen to stay uninvolved, Lex asked uncomfortably,
"Are you sure about that, or do you just have suspicions?"
Another long silence, then, "I'm
sure. I've followed him. He has friends. He has...someone...in Bludhaven."
"Friends? Maybe it's nothing, Bruce.
Meeting up with friends, even when he doesn't tell you about it, doesn't
automatically mean he's cheating..."
Bruce interrupted, his voice sharp,
"I've seen him, Lex. He was giving
one of his 'friends' a blowjob in a filthy alley."
Lex wanted to say something that would
make his friend feel better, but all that would come out was, "I'm sorry,
Bruce."
"Not your fault," came the short
answer.
"Give him time. Don't you think this might just be a phase
he's going through? He's only 20 years
old, after all."
"How old was Clark when the two of
you started...."
"He was 17...almost 18," Lex
admitted reluctantly. "But Clark
has been carrying the responsibilities of a grown man most of his life. While other kids his age were enjoying clubs
and sports after school, Clark was helping to run his parent's farm. He grew up a lot faster than his peers...too
fast, really."
"He's only four years older than
Dick, and tomorrow, Clark is going to publicly make a lifetime commitment to
you."
Lex thought he heard a trace of bitterness
in Bruce's voice and as they stepped out of the shower stalls and began drying
off, he asked, "Is that what you want from Dick? A lifetime commitment?"
Stepping up to the mirrors, Bruce sighed
loudly then leaned forward to look at himself closely, fingering through his
wet hair, and said, "Look at me, Lex.
I'm starting to get gray hairs, crow's feet. Time is passing, my friend.
I want something."
"I'm not the best person to give
advice, Bruce. But I do know that
committing yourself to someone shouldn't be the result of a mid-life
crisis." Wrapping his towel around
his waist, Lex said with a little grin, "It's kind of early for a mid-life
crisis, by the way. We're only 30, for
god's sake."
Bruce managed a small smile before saying,
"It's more than that. I've
invested a lot of my life in Dick. I
was attracted to him from the beginning, but I did the right thing...I waited
for him to grow up. Then, when he did,
and he wanted to be with me too...," Bruce trailed off. "He's been my family for six years,
Lex. I've been with him so long now, I
don't know how to be with anyone else."
"Have you talked to him...about the
cheating...about why he's doing it?"
"I can't," Bruce said simply,
shaking his head. The sound of the door
closing caused both men to look up, where they saw Dick, standing stiffly and
looking uncomfortable.
"Bruce? Can I talk to you?"
Lex looked up at Bruce, eyebrows arched in
question, then said loudly, "Well, guys...I'm needed in the office. Do me a favor, Bruce? When Clark gets home this evening, tell him
I'm probably going to be a little late."
As Lex headed for the locker room to
dress, he paused in front of Dick.
"Good to see you again, Dick.
Clark and I really hope you can make it to the ceremony."
"Thanks, Lex. I'm going to try," Dick said.
Lex nodded and gave him a small,
encouraging smile. "Hope to see
you both at dinner tonight," he called over his shoulder as he continued
to the locker room. The door had barely
closed behind him when he heard the sound of the lock clicking into place. That had to be a good sign, he thought,
smiling.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"What are you doing here?" Bruce's voice was coldly blank.
Dick shifted uneasily. "Alfred told me where to find
you."
"No.
I mean here...in Metropolis.
I don't want you ruining things for Lex and Clark when they...how did
you put it? Make asses of
themselves?"
Dick looked down at the floor, cheeks
flushed. "I didn't mean
that," he said quietly. "And
I'm not going to ruin anything, Bruce.
They're my friends too, and I was invited...I'm going to their
ceremony." Dick paused before
stepping close to Bruce, placing a tentative hand on his broad chest, still
damp from the shower, and added, "I'm also here because...because I missed
you."
Bruce closed his eyes tightly, surprised
at the emotional pain that throbbed through him, a pain he thought he had
trained himself not to feel. He gripped
Dick's hand, removing it from his chest before saying, "Why did you lock
the door? I hope you don't think I'm
going to have sex with you." With
a short, derisive laugh, he added, "I'm afraid I'll catch something
nasty. Who knows what you might
have picked up in the streets of Bludhaven."
Dick looked stricken, suddenly pale. "You know."
"Yes. How long, Dick?"
"A couple of months," Dick said
quietly, unable to meet Bruce's eyes.
"But I've always been careful.
I would never put you at risk...never."
Bruce knew he was telling the truth. That night in the dirty alley, even in the
dark, Bruce could see that the boy Dick was sucking off was wearing a
condom. Bruce steeled himself before
asking the next question. "The boy
I saw you with; what does he mean to you?
Do you love him?"
"No.
I care about him. He's a good
friend, but I don't love him. Not like
I love you, Bruce," Dick said, a little desperation leaking into his voice
as he stubbornly put his hand back on Bruce's chest.
Bruce took Dick's hand again, but didn't
remove it, pressed it harder into his chest instead. "Then why...," he began, horrified when his voice
cracked. He cleared his throat and
began again. "If you love me,
why do you...I just can't understand this, Dick."
"He makes me feel like...a man,
Bruce. I am a man, I'm not a boy
anymore. You have to let me grow up,
have my own opinions, make my own decisions, take my own chances." Dick took a deep breath and continued. “I want to wear the suit again. I’m Robin, Bruce…I am. Robin is as much a part of who I am, as
Batman is a part of you. You can’t
shelter me forever, just because I got hurt one time.”
"I only try to shelter and protect
you, because I love you, Dick. I don't
want anything to happen to you. I
thought you understood that."
With a sad smile, Dick reached up to touch
Bruce's cheek. "I do
understand. But try to understand how I
feel. One minute you're smothering me,
overprotecting me. Then when I try to
do the same for you, you pull away. I
was your legal ward for so long, and sometimes it still feels that way, and frankly...that's
kind of creepy. I don't want you to be
my father, Bruce. I want to be with
you, but as your equal."
Dick looked down, nervously biting his lower lip before saying quietly,
hesitantly, "I want us to be equals in the bedroom, too."
Bruce swallowed hard. "We've had this discussion, Dick. I don't know what to say. I'm not sure I know how to be an
equal partner, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to let you... I want to tell you that I'll try, but we
both know I'll probably fail," Bruce said miserably.
Dick moved in closer, pressing his body
tightly to Bruce's and slipping his hand behind Bruce’s neck, pulling him down
for a kiss. Just before he melted into
the warm mouth he knew so intimately, he whispered against Bruce's lips,
"Please...just try."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clark sat, squirming, in the hard chair in
front of Perry White's desk, waiting patiently as his boss read over his notes
from the morning's city council meeting.
He looked down at the platinum ring on his finger that he was
absent-mindedly twisting and the night before came back in a flood of memory;
Lex's face inches above his own, distorted with pleasure and glistening with a
sheen of sweat; Lex's voice, low and rough, whispering in his
ear...words...some sweet, some dirty, some that made him shiver. Clark wriggled again, unable to stop the
little smile that curved his lips. He
glanced up to find that Perry was watching him, one bushy eyebrow raised in
question.
"I'm not going to ask what you're
smiling about," Perry said in a gruff voice. "These notes are fine, Kent. I know you probably have a lot to do before the ceremony
tomorrow. Why don't you take off for
the day? Lois can write up the article
from these notes."
"Lois? Awww, Perry. Don't give
her another reason to scream at me.
It's embarrassing."
Perry chuckled. "Sorry kid, but one of the greatest joys in my life is
taking Lois off her high horse every now and then. It won't kill her to write up one city council piece." He reached over to his inbox and picked up
an envelope that was addressed to Clark.
"This is for you. Annie
missed it earlier when she was...," Perry drifted off.
Puzzled, Clark took the envelope that had
the mailroom's stamp on it, and a moment later realization dawned on him. He hadn't gotten any hate mail in a
while...not since he had had the talk with Lex. Perry's secretary had been checking his mail.
"Annie's been screening my
mail?"
"Lex called a few days ago,"
Perry began.
Clark looked down, shaking his head. "I wish he hadn't done that," he
said softly.
"I wish he'd done it sooner. Clark, why didn't you tell me what was going
on?"
Clark looked up, squaring his
shoulders. "I don't want any
special treatment because of my relationship with Lex."
"This isn't special treatment,
Clark. I won't tolerate any of
my employees receiving hate mail."
Clark tilted his head and shook his finger
at Perry challengingly. "Lois gets
hate mail on a fairly regular basis," he pointed out.
"Lois enjoys it."
Clark's face broke into a grin and he
shrugged, laughing.
"True." He slipped the
letter from the envelope Perry had given him, glancing over it briefly. Smiling, he said, "This is nice. The people who run the daycare center I
wrote about want to thank me for bringing attention to their money
problems. They received a ton of donations
after the article ran." Clark
glanced up at Perry and grinned, "They don't know that half of that money
came from LexCorp. They're having an
open house tonight for the children and their mothers and they want me to stop
by and pick up something the kids made for me."
"That's a great feeling, isn't
it," Perry said. "I know you
wanted to write the article about the bomber and the explosion, but look what
you accomplished with the human interest piece."
Clark smiled. "Yeah, I can live with that." Looking down at the letter, Clark frowned a little in
confusion. "Strange, though. The kids already made something for me...a
huge poster. You've seen it. I have it hanging behind my desk."
Perry shrugged. "Maybe this is something specifically for Christmas. I have a feeling they'll be grateful to you
for a while," he said, grinning.
Clark slipped the letter back into the
envelope and stood, heading for the door.
Turning in the doorway to look back at Perry, he held the envelope up
and waved it a little, saying, "Thanks, Perry. For...you know."
"Sure, Kent. Now go home. See you tomorrow evening at the ceremony."
Clark smiled and nodded before starting
down the hallway. He made it all the
way down the hall and into the elevator before he heard Lois's voice
screeching, ".....city council meeting?!?
Goddammit, Kent...."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Todd brought the hammer down hard on the
chisel, neatly cleaving the large meteor rock in two. He paused for a moment to raise his safety goggles and wipe the
sweat from his face that was accumulating underneath. The damn goggles were making him miserable; they were hot and
sweaty and the tight elastic band holding them on was giving him a headache. They were necessary though. He slid them back into place and positioned
the chisel on one of the meteor halves.
He struck again with his hammer and flinched when a tiny chip of rock
flew up and stung his cheek before bouncing off to join the multitude of tiny
shards that littered the floor around his feet.
"That's enough, Todd," Larry
said, looking up from the folder of newspaper clippings he had been flipping
through. "Leave a couple of the
rocks whole. I may need some large
pieces for my experiments. How many
small pieces do you have over there?"
Todd started at the sound of his
name. He called me Todd. It had been so long since he had heard his
own name that he was puzzled, confused for a moment. But he had been feeling confused a lot for the last couple of
days. If he hadn't been taking his
medicine regularly, he would be more concerned, but he knew that he hadn't
missed a single dose.
It must be the stress and worry. Larry had made his plans clear and Todd was
having serious misgivings about abducting the Kent man. Larry had promised he wouldn't hurt Kent,
but he had let Todd know, in no uncertain terms, that Lex Luthor would be
killed. When Todd had made his
squeamishness known, Larry had cuffed him on the head...hard. But even though Larry promised to do the
killing himself, Todd still felt sick and apprehensive.
"Todd!" Larry's voice rang out, harsh and
impatient. "I asked you how many
smaller pieces of rock you have."
"At least fifty, Boss." Todd looked down at the scattering of meteor
fragments around his feet. "And
that's not counting all this mess on the floor."
"Good. That's more than enough for now," Larry said. He returned to his folder, already oblivious
to Todd's presence.
Todd began sorting through the pile of
rocks on the marble-topped laboratory table, tossing them into plastic bins
according to size.
He called you Todd.
Todd shook his head. The thought had invaded his mind, meandering
through his brain like a wisp of smoke.
He had felt the words, heard them...heard them spoken in a
strangely reverberating whisper.
No. He was just tired. He shook his head again and glanced over at
Larry. "Do you think Kent got the
letter, Boss?"
Larry looked up at Todd, fixing him with a
cold, calculating gaze. "If you
mailed it," he said, enunciating carefully, each word a malevolent
threat. "You did mail
it?"
"Of course...'course I did,"
Todd stuttered. "I meant...do you
think he'll go?"
"He'll go." Larry looked down at the little collection
of newspaper clippings in his lap and chuckled, pulling out an article and
holding it up for Todd to see.
"Visiting nursing home residents." He pulled out another.
"Attending the opening of the hospital's new burn unit." He took out yet another. "Cutting the ribbon at a new shelter
for abused women." Larry's eyes
came to rest on the article about the bombed daycare and he smiled, murmuring,
"He never writes a story that he doesn't get involved in and follow up
on. Yes... I've done my research on Mr. Kent. He's a regular boy scout," he said softly.
Todd stared at Larry, fascinated. The expression on Larry's face as he talked
about Kent could almost be perceived as affectionate...if you didn't look up
and see the unholy, wicked gleam in Larry's eyes. Todd shivered.
He called you Todd. He's
not going to need you anymore.
Todd jumped and rubbed viciously at his
temples, his heart suddenly pounding fast and hard in his chest. "Boss?
I...I think I need to have my blood work done. I don't think my medicine is working."
Larry looked up sharply. "How often did they test you in the
hospital?"
"Every week."
"And did they adjust your meds after
every test?"
"Not every time. But...a lot."
Larry frowned in irritation. "I'll look into it tomorrow...see what
I can find out. We can't bring you in
to see a doctor. We may just have to
experiment with your dosage."
Todd nodded and wiped at the sweat that
was forming above his upper lip.
He's not going to need you anymore. He's
going to throw you into the streets when he has Kent.
"Boss." Todd's hands were beginning to tremble and
his voice shook as he asked, "What happens to me after we get Kent? I mean...you won't want me around here
anymore."
Larry laughed harshly. "Don't be an idiot. There'll still be plenty for you to do. Kent isn't exactly going to be happy
to be here...for a while." Larry
examined Todd with that calculating gaze again. "You should consider yourself lucky. Kent will be satisfying my sexual
needs. Sort of lets you off the
hook, now doesn't it?"
Todd nodded eagerly, then glanced nervously
at Larry to see if he had taken offense.
When Larry just laughed again, Todd gave a weak smile and returned to
his work of sorting rocks, humming softly to drown out the voice in his ear.
He's going to throw you into the streets
when he has Kent.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part Five
Clark let himself into the penthouse with
a weary sigh. He was exhausted and his
feet ached. Clark had always cared
about the humans he shared this planet with, but on the days he wore Lex's
ring, he found he had a lot more empathy for them. But even with his aching muscles and sore
feet, complete with fresh blisters rubbed by his new shoes, Clark wasn't ready
to take off the ring. He could still
feel just the slightest twinge, the tiniest little physical reminder of what he
had done with Lex last night.
Stretching his tired muscles, Clark
thought that Perry had been right; there had been a lot to do before the
ceremony tomorrow. Clark had spent the
day running last minute errands and buying those last few Christmas gifts. Mostly though, he had spent the day standing
in line. At the florist's...he stood in
line. At the department store
register...he stood in line. At the
gift wrap counter...he stood in line.
If it weren't for the lines, he would have been home before dark.
Clark dropped his packages by the foyer
table and toed off his shoes. Glancing
at the clock on the wall, he mentally calculated the time until he needed to be
at the daycare center for the open house.
He figured he had just enough time to soak his throbbing feet, find some
bandages for the blisters, and change into fresh clothes. If he hurried, he may even have time to
convince Lex, with kisses and gropes and promises of more later, to come with
him to the open house.
Smiling, Clark limped down the hallway,
sticking his head inside each open doorway he passed, looking for Lex. When he reached the bedroom, no sign of Lex
anywhere, he assumed that he must be working late, and knew that he would have
to step it up a notch if he wanted to be ready in time to stop at Lex’s office
and pick him up on the way to the center.
Foregoing the long foot soak he
desperately wanted, Clark settled for a hasty, but invigorating wash in the
shower. After quickly drying off and
dressing, he rummaged through every drawer in the bathroom, searching in vain
for bandages for his blistered feet. Not
much use for bandages in the bathroom of a usually invulnerable alien and a man
with mutated healing abilities, Clark thought. But there had to be bandages somewhere in the penthouse – surely
Mary would know where to find them.
The aroma of dinner cooking was like a
trail straight to Mary that Clark’s nose was able to follow. He sniffed appreciatively as he moved
through the penthouse, and found Mary in the kitchen, pouring a creamy sauce
over a bowl heaped high with tiny baby potatoes.
“Hi, Mary,” Clark said brightly, bending
to place an affectionate peck on the tiny woman’s cheek, as his fingers slipped
sneakily into the bowl to steal a potato.
“Clark Jerome Kent…get your fingers out of
my potatoes,” Mary said, even as she was tilting her cheek up for the little
kiss.
Clark snickered and held a potato up
triumphantly, taunting Mary with it a little before popping it into his mouth
with a grin. Mary tried not to smile,
and shook her head in mock exasperation.
“Have you seen Lex?” Clark asked around a
mouthful of herbed potato.
“No, dear. I don’t believe he’s made it home yet, but I hope he gets here
soon. Dinner’s almost ready.”
Clark winced a little in anticipation of
Mary’s disapproval as he said, “Umm, actually, I’m not going to be here for
dinner until later myself. There’s an
open house that I have to attend at the daycare center, and I’m hoping to rope
Lex into going with me, so…” he trailed off.
“But I don’t want you, Bruce, and Alfred to wait for us, so please…go
ahead and serve dinner on time.”
Mary looked up at Clark a little
peevishly. “An open house at a daycare
center? Clark, please don’t spoil your
appetite with rice krispie treats and Kool-Aid. I made one of your favorite meals tonight.”
“I won’t.
I promise,” Clark said with a huge grin. “Mary, do we have bandages somewhere in the penthouse. I’m wounded,” he said, melodramatically, pointing down at his
feet.
Mary leaned over, then frowned when she
saw the large, raw blisters on Clark’s heels.
“Clark! What happened?”
“New shoes and Christmas shopping,” Clark
answered cheerfully, realizing that it gave him a perverse sort of pleasure to
have a physical infirmity to show Mary.
He had lived with Mary in such close proximity for so long that
sometimes he was sure that she was on the verge of realizing his
secrets, and these blisters were a badge of normalcy that would throw her off
the track a while longer. As Mary’s arm
went around his waist, he thought that the motherly sympathy was awfully nice,
too.
“Oh, honey. Did you wash them well?”
At Clark’s solemn, ‘yes ma’am’, she continued. “There should be bandages and some antibiotic ointment in the
guest bathroom.” Clark was already headed
in that direction as she called over her shoulder, “Clark…let me know if you
don’t find them. I probably have
bandages in my room as well.”
Approaching the guest bedrooms, Clark
caught himself before barging in, remembering that they actually had guests at
the moment. He considered using his
x-ray vision to see if Bruce and Alfred were there, but not only would it be
difficult, if not impossible, for him to focus his vision while wearing Lex’s
ring, he realized that peeking in at the guests would also be incredibly rude,
so he raised his hand to knock instead.
Before his fist was able to connect with
the heavy wood of the door, Clark heard voices from within, and even with his
super-hearing impaired by the tiny chip of kryptonite on his finger, he still
picked up, quite clearly, Alfred saying, “Master Bruce, really! Please tell me you didn’t actually
have…physical relations…in a public shower room? I raised you better than that.”
In one heart-stopping instant, Clark’s
stomach plummeted sickeningly. His hand
dropped limply to his side, all intention of knocking gone now. He heard Bruce’s deep, rumbling chuckle,
then his voice saying with an amused tone, “Relax, Alfred. We locked the door.” Clark heard sounds of disapproval from
Alfred before Bruce continued. “God,
Alfred. It was like old times. It hasn’t been that way between us in
years.”
Alfred’s voice, softer and gentler now,
said, “The two of you are going to face a lot of obstacles, Master Bruce. I hope you don’t think that this one encounter
can recapture everything you’ve lost.
Did you ask him how he feels about the boy? I can’t see him just giving that up so easily.”
“He’s going to break it off with him. He said that he doesn’t love him the way he
loves me,” Bruce answered in a smug voice.
“We have a history, Alfred, that he and that boy will never have.”
Clark’s chest was so tight he felt he
couldn’t draw a breath, and he backed away from the door, his stomach churning
so violently he felt he was going to vomit.
He ran down the hall, not sure where he was going, but knowing that he
needed to get out of the penthouse and far away. As he ran past the kitchen, he dimly heard Mary’s voice calling,
“Clark? Did you find the bandages?”
He stopped at the door just long enough to
slip his shoes on, not even bothering with socks. His eyes were stinging and burning, and he didn’t realize until
he saw a droplet splash against the leather of his shoes, that he was crying. As he opened the penthouse door, he heard
Mary ask, her voice full of confusion and concern, “Clark, honey, what’s
wrong?”
Clark managed to choke out, “I won’t be
home for dinner, Mary.” He closed the
door quietly behind him and left the building as quickly as his sore feet would
carry him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clark got as far as City Park, before he
stopped walking. He collapsed onto a
park bench, and leaning forward, elbows on knees, covered his face with his
hands, completely oblivious to the curious stares of the joggers and
dog-walkers who were brave enough to weather the winter night air. Shivering violently, Clark realized,
bitterly, that he had run out without his coat.
He sat, breathing deeply for a few
moments, and felt himself calming. There
had to be an explanation, he thought.
He knew Lex. He trusted
Lex. The more he thought about it, he
knew that there just had to be a logical explanation for the
conversation he had overheard, other than that Lex and Bruce had had sex at the
gym, in the showers. Lex had promised
him, and Lex always kept his promises.
Heaving one more deep sigh, Clark glanced
at his watch and realized that he was going to have to push his thoughts aside
for a little while, and hurry if he was going to make it to the open
house. There was no time to pick up
Lex, but maybe that was for the best.
Clark needed some time alone, without Lex, to think before he confronted
Lex with what he had heard.
As he resumed walking, his blistered feet
made him want to scream in agony. The
little pleasure he had felt at experiencing a normal, human weakness was
entirely gone now, and all he wanted at the moment was to be an invulnerable
alien again. He began looking around
for a place he could hide Lex’s ring; a place where it would be safe until he
could come back later with the lead box and retrieve it.
He had twisted the ring almost completely
off his finger, when he hesitated.
Suddenly, it seemed more important than ever to keep the ring on, even
if it meant feeling all the human aches, all the pain. Lex had given him the ring the night before
as a promise; a promise and a reminder that he would never betray Clark’s love.
Reaching the street, his heart feeling a
tiny bit lighter, Clark waved down the first cab he saw and gave the driver
directions to the daycare center. He
leaned back against the seat, tapping his foot impatiently as the driver made
his way through the Metropolis traffic.
Clark was anxious now to get this open house appearance over with, and
get home to Lex so that they could talk.
As the driver pulled up in front of the
building where the daycare center had been relocated after the bombing, Clark
saw that the windows were brightly lit, and glancing down at his watch yet
again, realized that he was only a few minutes late. He thanked the cab driver, paying him and giving him a generous
tip before heading into the warm building, grateful to get in out of the cold,
dark night.
The building was strangely silent, Clark
thought, as he made his way to the door leading into the daycare. A powerful feeling of unease washed over him
as he peered into the room and saw that it was completely void of people. Maybe they were just in another part of the
building, or maybe…
Clark reached for the ring on his finger,
intending to remove it and toss it far enough away in order to be able to
defend himself if the need arose, but before he could slide the ring off,
strong arms grabbed him from behind, and he heard eerie laughter coming from
the hallway.
“Mr. Kent, so good of you to come!” The tall man who was holding him so tightly
that his arms felt as though they were going to pop out of his shoulder
sockets, turned Clark until he was able to see the source of the voice. It was no surprise at all that it was Larry
Lewis. Trying not to give in to panic,
Clark summoned all of the strength he could muster, and managed to break free
of the man’s tight hold. He reached
desperately for the ring on his finger, but before he could get it even half
way off, he was struck viciously in the head, from behind.
A horrible, dizzying blackness descended
on Clark as he felt himself sink to the floor, and the last thing he was aware
of before total darkness overtook him, was the insane laughter of Larry Lewis.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Well, gentlemen, I think that’s
everything,” Lex announced to the group of tense and exhausted men gathered
around the conference table. They had
signed the last of the papers, and after all was said and done, the buyout Lex
had been working on for weeks had finally been completed, with no jobs
lost. Some of the workers would be
moved into new positions, but no one would find themselves jobless this
Christmas.
Lex had a broad, satisfied smile on his
face as he felt his cell phone vibrating within his jacket pocket. He knew that it was probably Clark and he reached
for the phone eagerly, anxious to share the news of the day’s success. There had been a time when he would have
considered that a weakness -- this overpowering desire to share his every
little triumph with Clark just to see in Clark’s face or hear in his voice, the
pride he felt in Lex’s accomplishments.
But now, the warm pleasure he felt at being able to share these moments
with someone, was just one of the joys of life that he accepted without
question.
Lex was still smiling as he answered the phone,
but in an instant his face fell when he heard the voice on the other end
saying, “Lex? It’s Mary.”
In all the years Mary had worked for him,
only once before had she called him on his cell phone, while he was at work,
and that was when Jonathan had had a mild heartache a few years earlier, and
she couldn’t reach Clark. Lex felt his
chest grow a little tight with apprehension.
“Mary, is something wrong?”
“I hope not, dear. I was just wondering if Clark was with you?”
“No…I haven’t seen him since he left for
work this morning. Is something wrong?”
Lex repeated, his nervous worry increasing a little more.
“Clark came home earlier. He was happy and cheerful…said he had an
open house to attend and he was going to pick you up at your office on the
way. He went to look for something, and
next thing I knew, he was running through the penthouse and out the door. What worries me is that he looked very
upset. Lex, he was crying. I thought you should know.”
“Thank you for calling, Mary. I’ll come home right now, and we’ll see if
we can’t find out what’s happened.”
Something must have happened to Jonathan
or Martha. It was the only reason he
could think of for Clark to leave in a rush, crying. As Lex disconnected the call, his nervous worry gave way to full
out fear.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clark opened
his eyes and saw only darkness. He was
crumpled in on himself awkwardly, disoriented and struggling to draw a full
breath in the enclosed, almost airless space he occupied. Feeling around, he was able to determine
that he was in a large, canvas sack, and as his body bumped painfully against
sharp edges, he realized that someone was pulling him along, probably up stairs
or steps of some kind.
Fighting a
surge of nausea, he shifted his body until he could reach the ring on his
finger and slipped it off. Weakly, he
dropped it within the sack, but realized that it wouldn’t help; he couldn’t get
far enough away to regain his strength.
But when Lewis and his partner reached their destination, and he was let
out of the bag…
“I think he’s
waking up, Boss,” Clark heard a voice say.
“Good. Hurry, Todd. We’re almost to the apartment.”
As Clark heard
a door opening and felt himself being dragged across a threshold, another wave
of intense nausea washed over him, and his body was filled with an excruciating
pain that curdled the blood within his veins.
He was screaming in agony when the bag fell open and he was pulled
out. He could barely manage to open his
eyes, but when he did, the first thing he saw was the huge kryptonite setting
in Lewis’ ring. The second thing he saw
before losing consciousness again, was a roomful of meteors, all beginning to
glow malevolently with Clark’s presence.
Hard slaps to
his face roused Clark from the mercy of unconsciousness. When he opened his eyes, he saw that he had
been moved onto a sofa, and that the hand striking him belonged to Larry Lewis,
who was peering eagerly down at him.
“Wake up, Mr. Kent.”
Clark felt pain
worse than any he had ever experienced before, and for the first time in his
life, he wished for death. Along with
the pain was a nausea so unrelenting that he could feel his stomach and
intestines writhing within his body. He
tried to sink into the blessed darkness that was overtaking him again, and felt
a tear trickle down his face when Lewis slapped him hard, rousing him back once
more.
Clark heard the
voice of Lewis’ companion say, “Here you go, Boss,” and he opened his eyes to
see the man, Todd, handing a camcorder to Lewis.
“What do you
say we make a little movie, Mr. Kent,” Lewis said in an amused voice. He moved away from the sofa, pointing the
camera at Clark and focusing. “Now,
what would you like to say to your boyfriend?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Lex
arrived at the penthouse, an anxious Mary greeted him at the door.
“Any word from
Clark?” she asked hopefully.
“No, I was
hoping he had made it home.”
Lex slipped his
arm around Mary’s shoulder as they walked to the living room where Bruce,
Alfred, and Dick, who had just arrived for dinner, were waiting. After greeting everyone, Lex said, “On the
way home, I called Martha, and she and Jonathan are both fine. I can’t imagine what could have happened to
send Clark off like that.” He turned to
face Mary and asked gently, “Mary, are you sure that Clark was upset, and not
just in a hurry?”
Mary
nodded. “I’m sure, dear. And all he said was that he wouldn’t be home
for dinner.”
Puzzled, Lex
rubbed his head for a moment as he thought.
“You said he was in a good mood, but that he had gone to look for
something, is that right? And when he
came back he was upset.”
“That’s
right. He had gone Christmas shopping
in new shoes, and he had some terrible blisters on his feet. He was trying to find bandages and I told
him to look in the guest bathroom.” At
this, Bruce’s head snapped up and he listened intently as Mary continued. “When he came back, he was…well, he was
crying.”
Bruce looked
off, deep in thought, and mused aloud, “He never made it to the guest
room. Alfred and I have been here all
afternoon, and we never saw Clark.” He
thought for a moment more, then glanced at Alfred questioningly. “You don’t suppose… Do you think he could have heard us talking
and misunderstood the conversation?”
Lex looked up
sharply. “What conversation?”
“Alfred and I
were just discussing…” The normally
stoic Bruce seemed a little off-balance, and glanced at Dick before
continuing. “I was telling Alfred about
Dick showing up at the gym.”
An idea
occurred to Lex, and his face took on a look of dawning comprehension. “And what, exactly, happened after Dick came
to the gym?”
“That’s
private, Lex, and I don’t wish to discuss it right now,” Bruce said, annoyed,
but the flush that suddenly covered Dick’s face told Lex all he needed to know,
and to his guests’ surprise, he began to chuckle.
“I think I know
why Clark was upset,” he told them with a little smile. “I just need to find him, and I can
straighten this out. Mary, you said the
open house was at the daycare center?”
At Mary’s nod, Lex took his keys from his pocket and headed for the
door. “Please, go ahead and enjoy your
dinner. I’m going to meet Clark at the
open house. How about we join you all
later for brandy in the study?”
Enormously
relieved to know that everything was fine and that Clark’s disappearance was
due to a simple misunderstanding, Lex opened the penthouse door with a smile
still on his face. He was a little
startled, when he came face to face with Paul, one of the doormen for LexCorp
Towers, and he said with a short laugh, “Paul!
You surprised me. What can I do
for you this evening?”
But Paul didn’t
return the smile, and his face wore an expression of concern as he handed a
small package to Lex. “Mr. Luthor, this
just arrived downstairs. A kid…a
teenager…brought it in and said that some guy had given him fifty dollars to
deliver it, to say that it was from ‘Lex Luthor’, and to tell you that you need
to watch it immediately. He said it’s
concerning Mr. Kent.”
Lex felt the
blood drain from his face, and in an instant, all the worry and concern for
Clark that had just left him, returned a thousand times stronger. “Paul, see if you can get that kid back for
me, okay?” he heard himself say.
“Yes sir, Mr.
Luthor,” Paul said, setting off at a quick trot down the hall.
“Lex, what’s
going on?”
Lex looked up
to see that Bruce was standing beside him, holding onto his arm as if he
thought Lex might fall. Lex opened the
envelope and pulled out the videotape that he had already known would be
inside, holding it up for Bruce to see.
“It’s from Larry Lewis. It’s
concerning Clark,” he said numbly.
Bruce, still
gripping Lex’s arm, guided him back into the living room, taking the tape from
Lex with a grim expression, and slipping it into the VCR. In a daze, Lex sat on the sofa, heard Bruce
explaining to the confused group of people in the living room in a low, serious
tone what had happened at the door, felt someone sit next to him and grip his
hand tightly. He turned his head to see
that it was Mary sitting beside him.
She looked so old, so fragile.
He squeezed her hand gently and said quietly, “Mary, I don’t…I don’t
know if you should watch this.”
“I’ll be fine,
Lex,” she assured him in a trembling voice, but she was as pale as Lex.
Bruce turned on
the television, started the tape, and they all watched with sick
apprehension. There was a moment of
fuzzy static, then the picture cleared and Larry Lewis’ face came into focus.
“Mr. Luthor,”
Lewis began, snorting derisively after saying the name. “As I’m sure you’ve already figured out, Mr.
Kent is going to be living with me now.
It’s very simple really – if you come, right now, to 5771 Parkway Plaza,
apartment number 712, you’ll get to see Mr. Kent one last time. You have exactly one hour. If you don’t come, I’ll kill him. If you bring anyone with you – cops,
bodyguards, anyone – I’ll kill him.
But if you do as I say, Mr. Kent lives.
If you need help deciding, maybe you should see this.”
The camera took
a wide swing over to a sofa that was surrounded by glowing green rocks, where
Clark lay writhing weakly, his veins dark and protruding, and his skin a sickly
green. Clark tried to lift his head and
couldn’t manage more than a twitch, but he could clearly be heard whispering,
“Lex, don’t come. He’s gonna…gonna
kill…” Before Clark could finish his
message to Lex, Lewis struck Clark hard across the face, and Clark fell silent.
Lex let out a
low, keening whine, oblivious to Mary’s attempts at comfort, and Bruce’s hand
squeezing his shoulder.
“Okay,
Luthor. Ball’s in your court now,”
Lewis continued. “See you within the
hour…if you have the guts to come, that is.”
The tape abruptly jumped to static, and Bruce quietly moved to turn off
the VCR and television.
“Holy crap,”
Dick murmured. Lex glanced up to see
that Dick looked a little sick himself.
“Lex, you have to let us help.
How can we help?” Dick asked, a note of panic in his voice.
“I don’t think
there’s anything you can do,” Lex answered quietly. He looked at Mary, tried to give her a smile, but failed
miserably and settled for patting her hand.
His mind racing, he stood and headed for the door once again. If he could just get to Clark and get him
away from those rocks, they would be fine.
Bruce was at
his side instantly. “Lex, where are you
going?”
“I’m going to
get Clark,” Lex answered with more confidence than he felt.
Moving in front
of Lex to block the door, Bruce put his hands on Lex’s shoulder, and bent his
head to look directly into Lex’s eyes.
“Lex, you heard Clark. Lewis is
planning to kill you. Clark asked you not
to come. As a Luthor, you’ve lived your
entire life with the threat of kidnapping always hanging over you. You know how people like this operate – you
can’t negotiate with these terrorists.”
Lex’s head
jerked up. “I remember my father saying
that once when I had been kidnapped. He
refused to meet my kidnapper’s demands.”
“What
happened?”
“Clark came for
me. I almost died, but… Clark’s always there when I need him.” Lex reached up to move Bruce’s hands from
his shoulders. “I need to go now,
Bruce,” he said softly.
Bruce nodded
resignedly. “Then I’m coming with you.”
“No. You heard what Lewis said. If he sees anyone with me, Clark’s dead.”
“Lex…”
“No. There’s nothing you can do. Just…wish me luck,” Lex said with a wry
smile.
Bruce stared
for a long moment, before giving one final nod and moving aside.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part Six
When
Clark's eyes fluttered open, he quickly realized that the pain had lessened a
little, enough for him to regain consciousness. But he still felt horribly nauseous, felt the burning, slicing
pain that moved through his veins, through his muscles...through every cell in
his body. As he focused his eyes on his
surroundings, he realized that many of the larger meteors were gone.
"How
many more of these should I move, Boss?" he heard the man, Todd, ask.
Lewis
suddenly appeared, standing over Clark, a satisfied smile spreading over his
face. "Ah, he's waking. That should be enough, Todd."
Clark
flinched as Lewis sat on the sofa beside him and ran a hand through Clark's
hair. "Mr. Kent...may I call you
Clark?" Lewis asked. When Clark
tried to turn his head away, Lewis gripped a fistful of Clark's hair and
continued, in an amused tone, "Clark, we thought you were a goner there
for a minute. I had Todd take some of
the rocks away...I had a feeling that would bring you around." Clark resolutely ignored Lewis, shifting his
eyes to focus instead on Todd, who was pacing the room nervously, muttering
under his breath.
"Care
to explain this to me, Clark? Hmm? I must say, I'm terribly curious to know
what it is about these rocks that makes you so very sick."
"I
don't...don't know," Clark whispered.
"Come
on now, Clark. I'm not a fool. I consider myself a scientist, and I've been
studying you for a while now."
Lewis leaned forward until he was inches from Clark's face and murmured,
"I've seen you, you know...with him." Lewis' voice dropped to a hoarse whisper as
he said, "I've seen you fucking."
Clark's
stomach flipped sickeningly, and he looked up at Lewis, his eyes wider. Behind Lewis, Clark could see Todd growing
more agitated, his voice rising until Clark could hear him grumbling,
"Won't need me anymore...says he will, but he won't...only wants Kent
now."
Still
gripping Clark's hair, Lewis gave it a jerk, and when he had Clark's attention
once more, he continued, "Why do you wear that ring, Clark? When he fucks you...why do you wear the
ring?"
Panic
and revulsion filled Clark as his mind tried to process the realization that
Lewis had somehow been able to spy on him and Lex; the realization that Lewis
had made the connection between the ring and Clark's weakness to
kryptonite. "I...I don't...know
what you mean," Clark stammered out, weakly.
A
loud shriek from Todd caused Clark to jump.
"No!" the agitated man screamed. "I won't do it...won't kill him!" Clark stared in wonder, and as the man began
striking himself in the head with his own fists, Clark realized with a start
that Todd was insane and apparently having a mental breakdown right
here...right now.
"Shut
up, Todd," Lewis growled menacingly. When Todd fell silent, looking at Lewis with frightened eyes,
Lewis turned his attention back to Clark, and it was apparent he was losing his
patience. "You know exactly what I
mean, Clark," he said coldly.
Lewis’ demeanor changed suddenly, and he leaned down once more, reaching
up with his other hand to stroke Clark's cheek. "From now on, I'll be the one fucking you. Tell me what I need to know...tell me why you
wear that ring."
Clark's
stomach gave another lurch and he shook his head, trying to suppress the gag
that was tightening his throat.
"No," he said, weakly.
Lewis
laughed with what appeared to be genuine amusement and said cheerfully,
"Oh, yes, Clark." He resumed
stroking Clark's face, running his fingers over Clark's lips. "I'm going to kill him...you know
that. But I'm going to let you see him
one last time." Clark tried to
turn his head away, but Lewis only gripped his hair tighter, then leaned
closer, insinuating his finger between Clark's lips and trying to stroke his
tongue. His voice dropped to a
whisper. "Then, while you
watch...because I want you to know that he's gone...I'm going to blow
his brains out."
Clark
whimpered, and suddenly the nausea was too much to bear. He felt the bile rising in his throat and
with very little forewarning, his body finally rejected the contents of his
stomach, spewing them violently out.
Choking and coughing in the aftermath of his sickness, Clark would have
felt pleased, if he hadn't been in so much pain, to see Lewis scowling and
scrambling to get away, the front of his shirt covered with Clark's vomit.
Clark
had to wonder if he did perhaps have a tiny smile on his face, because
suddenly, Lewis' hand flew out to strike Clark against the face yet again, so
hard that Clark's teeth clacked together and his head bumped against the hard
arm of the sofa. Lewis' face was almost
purple with rage, and for a second Clark was sure that the man was going to
kill him.
Todd,
still pacing the room in long, erratic strides suddenly grabbed his head as if
in pain, and shrieked, "Shouldn't have done that...shouldn't have done
that."
That,
at least, diverted Lewis' attention from Clark, as Lewis walked over to Todd,
striking him across the face as well, until Todd stopped his pacing and stood,
wild-eyed, staring at Lewis. "Shut
up, Todd, and watch him while I go clean up." Lewis grabbed Todd by the shoulders, shaking him hard and
repeating, "Watch him."
When
Todd seemed a little more calm, a little more focused, Lewis gave a curt nod,
and with one last look of disgust in Clark's direction, disappeared into the
back of the apartment. Clark raised a
trembling arm, intending to wipe his mouth and face on his sleeve, but another
surge of burning pain pulsed through his body, and he let his arm fall
heavily. It just wasn’t worth the
effort.
“I won’t…won’t
kill him…no.” Todd had resumed his
insane mutterings, staring down at the floor, hands clenched at his side.
It suddenly
occurred to Clark that if he could talk with Todd, perhaps use the man’s own
psychosis against him, he may have a chance, however slim, of getting out of
here. He watched Todd closely as he
asked gently, “Who, Todd? Who is it
that…that you don’t want to kill?”
Todd’s head
jerked up and when he looked at Clark, his eyes almost looked calm and
sane. “You. They want me to kill you.”
Clark gave a
weak nod, and asked, “Why, Todd? Why do
they want you to kill me?”
“Larry has you
now…doesn’t need me anymore.” The wild
look was returning to Todd’s eyes, and he reached up to pull viciously at his
own hair. After a moment, he looked
again at Clark, and said, “They say Larry’s going to throw me out…now that he
has you. I’ll…I’ll starve…I’ll
die. They say I have to kill you.”
Fear warred
with hope when Clark realized the scenario playing out in Todd’s twisted
mind. “No, Todd. You…you don’t have to kill me.” Clark struggled to sit up, but only managed
to raise his head a little before falling weakly back against the sofa. “Just…just help me get…out of here. Just get me…out of this room. Then…Larry won’t have me any…anymore.”
Clark watched
as Todd tilted his head and looked up at the ceiling, apparently consulting
with the voices in his head. “Help me,
Todd. Then Larry will still…still need
you.” When Todd’s face cleared
beatifically and he nodded happily, Clark assumed that Todd’s voices approved
of his plan, and he almost sobbed with relief.
In an instant,
Todd was at his side, slipping his arms around Clark and struggling to lift
Clark’s heavy, limp body. Clark could
hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom down the hall, and knew
that they didn’t have much time. He
summoned what little strength he could muster, and tried to work with Todd, but
he was almost completely helpless.
Grunting with
the effort, Todd lifted Clark to his feet, and pain coursed through Clark’s
body in waves so strong that he had to bite his lip until it bled in order to
stifle the scream that wanted to escape.
Todd wrapped his arm firmly around Clark’s waist and began moving
towards the door, half-walking, half-dragging Clark along.
Breathing in
short, harsh gasps, Clark struggled on, each tiny, agonizing step bringing him
closer to his only chance for freedom.
They were almost to the door when Clark heard the shower stop, and his
heart began to race painfully within his chest. “God…help…we have to…have to hurry, Todd.”
Even in his
demented state, Todd understood clearly the need to move faster, and he wrapped
his other arm around Clark and began dragging him towards the door
desperately. Clark watched the door
grow closer…closer…so close. Hope
flared wildly when Todd, struggling to hold Clark up with one arm, managed to
reach the doorknob…managed to twist it, the door swinging open.
In the next
instant, Clark heard an inhuman growl that rose steadily in volume until it was
a raging scream. As if in slow motion,
he saw Lewis raise his arm, a gun in his hand, and strike Todd hard at the base
of his skull with the heavy handle of the gun.
Todd sank to the floor in an unconscious heap, and Clark, unable to
support his own weight, fell heavily on top of Todd, finally giving in to the
pain, the fear, and the frustration, and sobbing brokenly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bruce
watched Lex walk determinedly down the hallway, waiting until Lex stepped
inside the penthouse’s private elevator, before stepping back inside and
closing the door quietly. Pausing just
outside the living room, he saw the small group within sitting solemnly, Alfred
beside Mary on the sofa now, his arm around her frail shoulders.
Dick
sat in an armchair, his body perched on the very edge of the seat, and even
from across the room, Bruce could see the nervous energy, the eagerness for
action, that thrummed through Dick's entire being. Every nerve on alert, Dick immediately sensed Bruce's quiet,
hovering presence and looked up, their eyes locking knowingly.
How
long had it been? Only a few
months? Not long ago, in a situation
such as this, Bruce would have given Dick a slight nod, he and Dick would have
excused themselves politely, and within moments, Batman and Robin would have
been making their way to the crisis that their help was desperately needed to
resolve.
But
as Bruce looked resolutely into Dick's hopeful blue eyes, he realized that he
couldn't...he just couldn't take the risk.
"Dick," he said quietly, and he knew that Dick knew him all
too well, when he could see the disappointment already registering on Dick's
face. "Could you get some brandy
for Mary...from the study, please?"
Dick's
face fell and he stared at the floor for a moment before standing, answering
curtly, "Of course," and leaving the room.
Bruce
looked at Alfred, trying not to see the disapproval in the old man's eyes, as
he said, "Alfred, Mary, if you'll excuse me for a moment. I'll be back shortly." Bruce went quickly to the guest room,
shutting the door behind him, and trying desperately to convince himself that
he had made the right decision as he began donning the familiar black
suit. He was dressed and had the
bedroom window open when he heard the door click shut.
"I
thought we'd come to an understanding, Bruce," Dick said softly.
"I'm
sorry, Dick. I just don't think you're
ready. Your shoulder isn't
healed..."
"My
shoulder is fine!" Dick interrupted vehemently. He walked over to Bruce, reaching up to stroke Bruce's arm. "You promised to try, Bruce. Just this morning...you promised." He looked up into Bruce's face, connecting
with the dark eyes behind the mask.
"You have to let me be who I am," Dick reminded him seriously.
An
uncomfortable fear took hold in Bruce's mind.
If he let Dick come and he was injured again...or killed... Bruce didn't know how he would survive that. But if he refused to allow Dick to help,
Dick would leave. He would go back to
the boy in Bludhaven who made him feel like an adult.
Bruce
thought for a moment, then taking a deep breath, completely uncertain about the
decision he had just made, Bruce reached out and cupped Dick's face, stroking
his cheek with a black-gloved thumb.
"You brought the suit?" he asked.
Dick's
face broke into a broad smile and he nodded.
Managing
a tiny smile of his own, Bruce said, "Then suit up."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lex
reached apartment number 712, and without a moment's hesitation, took a deep
breath and rapped sharply on the door.
He heard laughter from within before the door had even begun to open.
"Come
in, come in," Lewis greeted him, as if he were a close friend arriving for
a party, rather than the doomed man Lewis was about to murder. "I knew you would come," Lewis
said, closing the door behind Lex and sliding the lock into place.
Scanning
the apartment, Lex quickly took in the situation, took note of the sheer volume
of glowing meteors and of the dark-haired man slouched against the wall rubbing
the back of his neck. But it was the
sight of Clark lying so still on the floor in the middle of the apartment that
made his heart jump. Lex rushed
forward, only to be stopped abruptly by Lewis.
"Hold
on there...you wouldn't be armed, would you?
Take off your jacket and toss it over there, on the sofa."
Slipping
his suit jacket off slowly and throwing it to the sofa, Lex started forward
once more, stopping again when Lewis moved in front of him. Lewis frisked Lex, feeling carefully for
anything that Lex might use as a weapon against him. When he found nothing, he jerked his head towards Clark and said,
"Okay. You've got ten minutes, so
make it count."
Lex
rushed to Clark's side, dropping to his knees on the dirty carpet and laying
his palm against Clark's cold, clammy cheek, gently turning his head. Clark's eyes flickered open and were
immediately filled with distress. "Lex...oh, Lex. I told you...told you not to come."
"Shh,
Clark. I had to come. You know that," Lex said, reaching into
his back pocket to remove a clean linen handkerchief. His fingers smoothed the damp tendrils of Clark's hair from where
they lay plastered across his forehead, before tenderly wiping the sweat and
grime from Clark's face and mouth with the soft cloth.
Clark
whimpered softly and tried to shake his head.
"He...he says he's going...to kill you. And I can't....can't protect you, Lex...can't this time."
"I
know, Clark. I know," Lex
whispered, caressing Clark's face soothingly.
"It doesn't matter."
"Shouldn't...shouldn't
have come," Clark moaned.
Lex
bent low, pressing his lips to Clark's damp forehead for a moment before
saying, "It doesn't matter what Lewis does to me, Clark. He would have killed you if I hadn't come,
and don't you know by now?" Lex
moved until his lips were touching the shell of Clark's ear, and he whispered
softly, "I wouldn't want to live without you anyway."
Clark
squeezed his eyes shut, and a tear rolled down the side of his face. Lex wiped it away with the handkerchief,
then kissed Clark's forehead again, and said, "Shh, Clark. It's okay.
Whatever happens...we're together."
Suddenly,
it was of the utmost importance to Lex to make sure that Clark understood. He took Clark's face in both hands and
waited until Clark's eyes were open and clear and focused on him before saying,
"Clark, whatever happens...whatever Lewis does to me...I want you to know
I have no regrets. I love you, so
much."
At
Clark's weak nod, Lex continued, "I don't know what you heard this
afternoon at the penthouse, but Clark...just so you know...Dick showed up at
the gym this morning." Clark's
eyes got a little wider, and Lex smiled as he continued, "He ambushed
Bruce in the shower room. And I don't
know exactly what happened after I left, but I have a feeling it was a lot like
those porn movies you watch."
Clark
tried to laugh a little, but it came out as a choked wheeze, and Lex wiped the
sweat from Clark's face as he tried to catch his breath. When he could breathe again, Clark smiled
weakly and said, "I knew...knew it was something...like that."
They
looked at each other and Lex smiled, stroking Clark's arm and trying to pour
all of his love into Clark through his eyes, seeing all of Clark's love
reflected back there. He felt his eyes
watering, but he breathed deeply and pushed it all back inside. He was determined to spend his last moments
of life showing Clark nothing but the happiness that Clark had given him.
"Well,
boys, it's time to say goodbye," Lewis' mocking voice informed them. Lex bent over to give Clark one last
kiss...a soft, tender kiss pressed to Clark's trembling lips. He pulled back, touched Clark's face gently,
then moved away, wanting to get far enough that Clark would be safe when
Lewis...
Lex
looked up, steadily meeting Lewis' gaze, as Lewis raised the gun in his hand,
training it on the space between Lex's eyes.
Clark cried out, and with all the strength he could muster tried to sit
up, but collapsed again, heavily, with an agonized sob. He looked up to see Todd standing beside
Lewis, Todd's eyes huge and wild, his face deathly pale. With no strength left, Clark looked into
Todd's eyes, and gave one last, whispered entreaty, "Please."
For
one irrational moment, Clark thought that the crazed voices inside Todd's head
must be real entities, that they must have heard Clark's request, and that they
were on Clark's side, because with that one, whispered word, all hell broke
loose inside the small apartment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bruce
gripped the cable in his fist more tightly and felt the heady, exhilarating
rush of adrenaline as he swung easily through the cold, dark night, smashing
forcefully through the large window of the apartment. Every sense on heightened alert, he was aware, even while flying
through the shattered glass, that Dick had done his part and was crashing
through the door of the apartment at that exact moment; aware that as Batman
and Robin, they were, as they always had been, in perfect harmony and
synchronization with each other.
Bruce had
trained himself to evaluate a crisis situation at a glance, to think quickly
and calculate his next move instantly.
But before Bruce’s feet even touched the apartment floor, the opening he
needed made itself easily apparent when he saw the dark-haired man standing in
front of Clark make a sudden lunge at the bald man with the gun.
With a primal
scream, the man tackled Lewis, and for a brief, satisfied moment, seeing that
Dick was already moving in to apprehend Lewis, Bruce thought that this
situation was going to be resolved quickly and easily. When he heard the gun fire, however, he was
reminded that nothing is ever easy.
A second shot
rang out, and Bruce’s eyes flew instinctively to Dick, already searching Dick’s
body, with an almost debilitating fear gripping his heart, for evidence of a
gunshot wound. For one protracted
second, the world came to a stop. When
it started again, Bruce saw that Dick was still moving surely, steadily towards
the kidnappers on the floor.
But his relief
was short-lived when he heard Lex’s shocked cry, “No….no!” Lex was leaning over Clark’s still body, his
hands skimming frantically over Clark while a deep red stain appeared on
Clark’s shirt, and grew, blooming slowly.
Looking up,
Bruce saw that Dick had wrenched the gun from Lewis’ hand and had already
twisted the man’s arms viciously behind his back, slapping handcuffs around his
wrists. One glance at the dark-haired
man, who was lying still and pale, confirmed where the other bullet had landed.
Bruce moved
quickly to the phone sitting on a small end table, and dialed 911, giving their
location to the woman who answered and requesting both an ambulance and
policemen. As Bruce spoke with the
woman, he watched Lex rip Clark’s shirt open, and felt a horrified sadness when
he saw the dark, gaping wound in the center of Clark’s chest. Clark wouldn’t live long enough to need an
ambulance.
Trying not to
think of just how easily that could have been Dick laying there, Bruce
concentrated on Lex, watching him grow increasingly agitated. Lex had left Clark’s side and was
frantically gathering up the green rocks, then running to throw them outside
the apartment as far as he could hurl them, muttering the whole time, “Hang on,
Clark. Just hang on.”
A memory that
Bruce hadn’t recalled in many years, suddenly came to him in a rush: Lex, when they were just kids at Excelsior,
cuddling a rolled up blanket and crooning lullabies to it softly. The death of Lex’s baby brother had
traumatized him so badly, that he had had a mental breakdown, and now, Bruce
was sure that the shock of seeing Clark shot, dying, was causing another
episode.
Bruce completed
the call, and went to Lex, placing a strong hand on his shoulder. Glancing at Clark, who was lying still, but
conscious, his eyes large and frightened and his breath coming in painful
little gasps, Bruce said quietly, “You should be with him.”
He guided Lex
towards Clark, but Lex paused only a second to say, “Please, Clark. Hang on, babe,” then resumed his frantic
gathering of the rocks. Suddenly, Lex
stopped and looked around at the hundreds…the thousands…of tiny meteor chips
littering the carpet, a frustrated and overwhelmed expression on his face. He let out an agonized sob, “I can’t…there’s
too many…I can’t get them all in time.”
To Bruce’s
surprise, Lex fell to his knees and began, pitifully, trying to gather Clark’s
large, heavy body into his arms. Clark
cried out with pain, and clutched convulsively at Lex’s arms, trying to
speak. Bruce could just make out the
word, “Lex,” but it came out as a weak gurgle, and a thin rivulet of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth.
Lex released
another choked sob, and doubled his efforts, pulling at Clark with all his
might, and murmuring, “I’ll get you out of here, babe. Hang on, hang on.”
Bruce knelt on
the floor beside Lex, reaching out to capture Lex’s hands and holding them
easily when Lex struggled frantically.
“Stop,” Bruce said gently, “You need to stop. Trying to move him could make his injury worse.”
Lex looked into
Bruce’s eyes, and said, “You don’t understand…if I can just get him out of
here…away from these rocks. You have to
help me…please.” When Bruce shook his
head sadly, Lex’s voice grew loud and urgent, “Please! You have to believe me. Just help me get him out of here and you’ll
see that I’m right.”
Bruce looked
deep into his old friend’s eyes, and was surprised to see that they were clear
and determined; they didn’t look like the eyes of a madman. He looked again at Clark, and realized that
he would be dead soon anyway – moving him at this point would make no
difference. When Clark caught his eyes,
and made a choked noise that sounded like a whispered, “Please,” Bruce nodded
and reached down to gather Clark up in his arms, lifting him easily and laying
him as gently as possible over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold.
When Clark
cried out in pain, Bruce had misgivings, but Lex’s face was so hopeful, so sure,
and he was whispering, “Thank you, thank you,” over and over. Bruce gave another short nod and moved
towards the apartment door.
Before he had
taken two steps, the sound of footsteps pounding down the hallway, rapidly
approaching the apartment, reached their ears, and Bruce watched curiously as a
look of panic flared across Lex’s face.
He grew even more intrigued when Lex whirled around, searching the
apartment and said, “Is there another way out of here?”
Bruce had
wondered about Clark before. He had
watched him intently, knowing that there was more there than met the eye at a
quick glance. The pieces of the puzzle
that was Clark Kent began to slip tentatively into place. Instinctively, Bruce understood the need for
secrecy and was suddenly hopeful that if he could get him out of here, Clark
might actually be all right.
Moving quickly
towards the large, broken window he had come through, Bruce stepped through and
grasped the cable that still hung there.
As he began a slow, careful descent, he looked back into the apartment
to see Lex’s shocked face, and he hoped desperately that he was making the
right decision in spiriting Clark away from the scene of a kidnapping.
When Bruce
reached the level of the sixth floor, Clark moaned and Bruce tried to ease his
grip a little. They continued slowly
downward, and when they reached the fifth floor, Clark began stirring, shifting
his body, and Bruce tightened his hold once more.
When the third
floor came into view, Bruce was shocked to see Clark’s hand reach up and firmly
grip the cable right above his own hand, and by the second floor, he could tell
that Clark was actually supporting much of his own weight.
But the biggest
shock came when they neared the ground, and Clark pulled himself up with the
cable, swinging easily away from Bruce to drop the rest of the way, landing
lightly on his feet. Bruce heard
himself laugh a little as he and Clark stood staring at each other, he with his
mouth hanging open, Clark looking up nervously from beneath his lashes.
Clark’s ripped
shirt had fallen open, and Bruce stared with disbelief at his chest. Reaching out with his gloved hand, Bruce
carefully wiped the blood away to find that Clark’s chest was indeed, smooth
and completely unblemished, the gaping wound that he had seen there just
moments earlier…completely gone.
Bruce felt a
thrill of incredible wonder, and looking into Clark’s eyes, whispered, “Who…what
are you?” He saw the fear flash across
Clark’s face, saw his eyes darting furtively around, and knew that Clark was
considering fleeing. He laid a hand on
Clark’s arm, and said quietly, “Relax.
I would never tell anyone what I’ve seen tonight.” He saw Clark’s eyes traveling down, then
back up, taking in every detail of Batman’s dark appearance. Bruce smiled a little and commented, “I
understand about keeping secrets.”
When Clark
relaxed slightly, he tried once more, asking, “How? How is it that you were almost dead just a few minutes ago, and
now you’re fine?”
Nervously,
Clark shifted from one foot to the other before answering evasively,
“It’s…complicated.”
Bruce smiled
beneath the mask, and said, “It always is.
Just tell me…what were those rocks?
What do they do to you?”
Clark met his
eyes, and the frightened look was back.
Just as Clark opened his mouth to speak, they heard, “Clark! Clark!” and saw Lex exiting the building and
running towards them. Whatever Clark
had intended to say was instantly forgotten when he saw Lex. Bruce saw the transformation of Clark’s
face; one moment he looked cautious and fearful and the next his face glowed
with relief and love and happiness.
Bruce stood
back and watched as Clark and Lex rushed together, arms wrapping tightly around
each other and clinging. He watched as
they buried their faces in each other’s necks, sobbing and laughing simultaneously. Bruce saw Lex’s body when it began to shake,
saw Clark’s arms tighten a little more, and even over Clark’s whispers of,
“It’s okay, Lex. I’m all right. It’s okay now,” Bruce could hear Lex’s teeth
chattering with his violent trembling.
A hard, painful
knot began forming in Bruce’s gut, and though he wanted to share in their
happiness, all he could think about was how close they had come to losing each
other…and how easily it could have been Dick who had been shot. Bruce’s unease grew as memories of the night
that Dick had been shot came rushing in on him, and all the old fears
resurfaced.
Bruce watched
as his friend, one of the most brilliant and powerful businessmen he had ever
known, disintegrated into a shaking, sobbing wreck, and he silently vowed that that would never happen to him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(to be continued)
or