Disclaimer: I only wish I could see them like this.
A/N: For the SVFF, Vissy asked for (1) Clark/Lex, some sort of exotic cliche-type au (eg. harem, slave auction, geisha, gladiators, or just surprise me!) or (2) Chloe/Pete, when they first met. I went with number one, sort of. Hope you like it, and my apologies for the delay.It's the teensiest bit kinky
By now, this far into their relationship, Lex Luthor thought he knew everything about Clark Kent. His alien origins. The summers he'd spent under the influence of either bizarre controlled substances or his megolomaniacal father (and wasn't that a familiar theme to Lex). The great sense of responsibility he felt for the wrongs he thought he had caused by his violent arrival on Earth.
No matter how often Lex tried to reassure him about that, telling him he had been an infant, and had no control over the meteors, Clark still felt he had to fix things just to make up for it. If not for the pain caused by his landing, then at least for every wrong choice he'd made as an adolescent. Lex had a feeling Clark's need to take care of the world was only going to get stronger. He hoped there'd still be room for him somewhere in there.
The evidence was there, Lex just didn't know how to interpret it. Clark would come home and something would be off. He'd spend the evening yawning and stretching like he'd worn himself out, but he wouldn't tell Lex about his adventures the way he usually did when he'd saved someone. There would be odd smells. Well worn leather; once it had been hair oil, the kind men used generations ago. Clark's hair had been smoothed down to his head like someone in a daguerreotype. Once, Lex had put Clark's shoes away, and shook white sand out of them. Kansas had no beaches. And always there was the scent of turpentine underneath it all.
It was all a great mystery. The only reason Lex could imagine didn't seem to hold up. He'd combed the newspapers, and there had been no recent crimes in the arts district. Nobody Clark needed to rescue. Lex just had to put the pieces together somehow. Clark was always a bit of a puzzle to him, one he very much enjoyed solving.
They'd only been living together in Lex's Metropolis penthouse for a few months when it started. Clark was a sophomore at Metropolis University now, and wasn't required to live in the dorms as he had been as a freshman. Convincing his parents that moving in with Lex was a good idea had been difficult. Jonathan seemed to think Lex kept unsavory company, and was this close to making Clark the subject of an after school special. Lex almost expected to hear the term 'Den of Iniquity' come out of the man's mouth.
For her part, Martha was more accepting, but when Clark had moved the first of his duffel bags into the bedroom Lex had pretended to set aside for him, she'd said "Lex, we both know he's not going to be sleeping in that room." When he'd shrugged a little to acknowledge this, she'd continued "... and if you hurt him, his father and I know where to find you." Sometimes Lex thought Martha Kent could be as formidable an opponent as his father. Luckily, she liked him.
He thought they'd long since gotten past all the secrets and lies, but apparently that wasn't true. All that was supposed to be over when Clark had finally opened up to Lex, and admitted that yes, he was 'different'. Not meteor freak different, but "alien crash-landed on Earth and this is why you're bald I'm sorry Lex it's all my fault just like everything else in Smallville" different.
He'd said it all in one breath like that, making Lex laugh with giddy relief while he tried to act surprised. Truth was, Lex pretty much already knew. Clark's unusual interest in the ancient pictograms found in the caves, as well as his reluctance to admit how much he cared, gave the game away even more than Lex's knowledge of Clark's bizarre abilities.
That had been a little over two years ago. It had been shortly followed by the also fairly obvious revelation that Clark wanted him as much as Lex wanted Clark. Was in love with him, in fact. Lex had owned up to similar feelings, and they'd kissed for the first time.
Lex had waited over a month to take Clark to his bed, wanting to be cautious. Clark was more precious to him than anyone else Lex had fucked, and he didn't want to scare him away.
Despite Clark's protests that they'd been building up to this since their violent meeting on the bridge, Lex didn't change his mind. Clark's "Lex, I already told you you can't hurt me," fell on deaf ears.
Really, Lex liked taking things slowly this time. For all his power and strength, it was Clark's vulnerability that awed Lex the most. His willingness to open up to Lex, to give him all he wanted. Finally,
That was why he didn't just confront Clark, and force him to tell him what the hell was going on. First off, Clark seemed happy, which Lex hoped meant whatever it was wasn't a real problem. He didn't like Clark keeping things from him, but neither did he tell Clark about every little business thing. It was safer that way. Besides which, he'd learned the hard way, after months of arguments and estrangements, that confrontations made Clark react with fear and a childish anger that did neither of them any good. Better Lex should do his own quiet investigation. Nothing invasive, nothing that should get him in trouble later. Just the answer to his own private mystery.
It might even be fun.
The thing Lex couldn't get over, once he'd gotten past the fact that Clark had become a much better liar, and despite Lex's subtle questioning, had given nothing away, was that it was Lana of all people, who clued Lex in. She'd come into his office one morning and tossed a bag at him. It had the imprint of a chain bookstore that had just opened in Smallville.
Puzzled, he'd glanced into the bag, which seemed to be full of formula historical romance novels. Bodice Rippers, Pamela had called them. The covers ripe with heaving breasted, yet virginal women, impossibly masculine barrel chested heroes holding them close, as if to save them from doom. You'd have to torture him to get him to admit it, but Lex had read a few of Pamela's when he was a pre-teen, watching his mother die. Of course he protested the historical inaccuracies, but the adonises pictured had helped him through his earliest fantasies.
"Lana, this isn't really my usual sort of reading material." He handed the books back to her. "Do you want to tell me what this is all about?"
"It isn't really mine, either. But sometimes I need something I don't have to think about." She blushed a little. Honestly, Lex was glad to know at least a part of her was still a normal girl, who curled up with a bit of literary fluff once in a while. It was a nice change from the anxious, driven young woman she had turned into since her time in Paris.
"But that's not why I bought them, or brought them here," she went on. "Take another look at the covers." She handed the bag back to him, and waited expectantly.
Lex perused them one by one. "Thief of the Sea", with a dark haired, green eyed pirate holding a flame tressed maiden. Yeah, there was truth in advertising. No signs of scurvy, and Lex bet the real Captain Ironstroke wouldn't have had his pick of women. "Say Yes, My Lady" had a petite blond, looking up at an Edwardian era gentleman with crisp black hair, and lacy cuffs.. At least that seemed to be what the artist and author were aiming for. Lex could tell they hadn't gotten it right. When Lex saw the third cover, he knew why Lana had brought the books to him. "Lonesome on the Chaparral" was a Western. 'Buck Johnson thought he was above the law,' the blurb explained. 'Truth was, he was the law in his part of Kansas. But the only law he obeys is the law of his woman…"
Shit. On closer look, it was obvious. Though each man on the various books was supposed to be a different character in a different era, the model for every one of them was clearly Clark. There was no doubt about it. Lex Luthor was dating Fabio.
Relieved to find out Clark's new secret wasn't something Lex needed to be concerned about, Lex planned how he was going to get Clark back for making him worry needlessly. Blackmail was a certainty. He was a Luthor, after all. He was going to enjoy himself very, very much. And if Lex had any say about it, so was Clark. A few phone calls, and an expedited package from Florida later, and everything was set.
Speeding home from Miami Beach, Clark wondered what had gone wrong this time. Evie had seemed distracted, doing her work by rote, and not even bitching at him the way she usually did when he squirmed.
He couldn't help it. Something was up with Lex, and he didn't know what. There was just that feeling that things were coming to a head. Lex didn't seem angry with him, but his glances recently had been even more heated and intense than usual. Clark found it completely unnerving. It was all he could do to keep from blurting out "What did I do?" like some shook up schoolboy whose parent had been giving him the eye.
Not that he'd done anything. Not really. He just didn't want Lex teasing him about this job. It was something Clark had gotten on his own, and he was proud of that. He hated having so little to contribute to the household, and this way, he could put in a reasonable amount towards the bills, as well as help his parents. God knew, he ate enough for Lex and several roommates. It was well worth a little embarrassment.
Not for the first time, he thanked Bart for getting Evie's number on that impromptu first run to Florida. It turned out she had wanted him for his body. Just not in the way he had expected.
He was busy with classes, and a neighbor whose husband needed a little lesson about non-violent behavior, so the whole weirdness with Evie got put on the backburner. Lex was involved with his own corporate issues as well. He came home late at night, too exhausted to do much with Clark. Clark missed him, but tried to be content with the quick and harried love-making they did do.
He was happy to see Lex in a better mood one day. He was waiting for Clark when he came back from his afternoon classes, about to crowbar open a gigantic box. Clark wondered what new expensive acquisition this might be. It had been awhile since Lex had bought himself a treat.
"Hey, Lex. What's that?" Clark asked him, leaning in to kiss him.
Lex just gave an enigmatic smile. "You'll find out tonight. I'm going to want you to do something for me."
Clark didn't know what the 'something' was going to be, but he knew he'd enjoy it. "Anything, Lex. You know that."
"Good. To start with, I need you to run to the store, or jog around the block for half an hour." Clark knew Lex just wanted him out of the way so he could put whatever machinations he had in mind into play.
"Sure, Lex. Should I bring you something in particular?"
"Surprise me. And I'll surprise you." Lex's grin was just a little bit manic. "Oh, and Clark? There'll be something waiting for you on the bed. I'll want you to wear it."
Clark gulped. They didn't often role-play, but when they did, they both enjoyed it immensely. "All right." He grabbed his backpack and left. His mom was probably just putting pie into the oven. He'd just have time for a visit, and it would be warm when he brought it back for Lex. Maybe Clark would even save some for Lex this time.
When he got back to the penthouse, Lex was nowhere to be found. Or at least not without his X-ray vision, which he wasn't going to use and ruin the surprise. Clark's heart almost leapt into his throat when he saw what Lex had laid out on the bed. It was worse than he ever could have expected. Apparently Lex knew everything.
Laid out on the bed, in all its ridiculous glory, was the pirate outfit he had worn for Evie's first book cover. When she'd given Bart her card on that first impromptu run to Florida, Clark thought she'd been after his body. As it turned out he was right, just not in the way he and Bart first thought. It had been the beginning of a working relationship that had been both embarrassing and rewarding. He just hoped Lex understood, and wasn't mad. He was pretty sure Lex would forgive him.
A little chagrined Lex would tease him so unmercifully, Clark put on the pirate outfit, hoping he had laced the breeches properly, and that the billowy shirt didn't look ridiculous. Thinking about why Lex wanted him to wear it made him worry he'd burst right through it before Lex even appeared to explain himself.
He was lost in his thoughts when he heard the knock on the door. But even with full attention, Clark could never have anticipated what he saw next. "There you are, Lex," he started to say as he opened it.
"No, Clark. Not exactly," the sultry voice on the other side, said. "But then, you're not Clark, are you?" Fuck. Lex was gone. Standing in his place was a woman. As close to the image Clark remembered from that book cover. Long wavy auburn hair, cleavage that rivaled Chloe's, flowing skirts - and a scar that Clark would have recognized anywhere, even if he didn't know it was Lex in the outfit. Clark never knew he had a drag kink, but judging from the way his breeches were really getting uncomfortable, apparently he did. And obviously, so did Lex.
"Holy Fuck, Lex. You look amazing." Clark had to touch Lex, feel all that silk and satin, and more importantly, what was under it.
"Is that the way you address a lady, sir?" Lex admonished demurely.
Clark quickly got into the part. "I - I'm sorry, Miss. I've been on the seas too long to worry about decorum. By all means, tell me what I should call you while I ravage you?"
"My name is Alexandra, and you'll do no such thing!" Lex's protests were both false and futile, judging by the way he kissed Clark, hot and open mouthed, and completely unladylike. Lex pressed up against him so Clark could feel his erection, even through the layers of cloth.
"Then what do you want?" Clark asked, already beginning to unbutton "Alexandra's" blouse.
"I want you to return me to my home. My family will not appreciate you having kidnapped me." 'Her' words were belied by the way she was returning the favor, swiftly unlacing Clark's shirt, and tracing a nipple with 'her' tongue.
"Never! You belong to me." Clark gritted out, as 'Alexandra' sank to her knees, undoing his breeches with swift, sure movements. Clark nearly lost it when he felt those perfectly imperfect lips wrap around him, and looked down to see rose-colored lipstick marks imprinted on his skin. "My god, Lex…"
"Don't come like this. I want you to fuck me." Lex told him. Clark called up every ounce of control he had in order to obey.
Clark kissed Lex again, then left small bites down his neck and chest, pulling out the fake breasts. He wondered for a moment where Lex had gotten them, but put that thought aside with the latex. Lex could get his hands on anything. "God, yes, Lex. But will you do something for me?"
"Name it." Lex was already reaching into their bedside table for the lube.
"Let me fuck you like this. Leave the skirt on. You have no idea…"
"Actually, Clark, I kind of do." Lex lay back on the bed, his impression of a nervous young virgin impressive, if Clark ignored the erection marring the line of petticoats, and leaving a darkened spot where it was leaking. Of course there was no way he was going to ignore it. He stroked Lex with one hand, while using the other to prepare him for entrance.
"This might hurt a little at first, Miss, but I promise you'll enjoy it."
"I hope so. I've heard you're quite--impressive." Lex helped, stroking Clark's cock with the dollop of lube Clark had squeezed onto his hand.
"I think you can take it," Clark gasped out, actions following words as he slipped inside the familiar, close grip of Lex's ass. Movement was restricted by Lex's skirts, and Lex's legs wrapped around him, but Clark didn't care. Knowing he couldn't last much longer, Clark shifted enough to make sure he brushed Lex's prostate with every stroke. He wanted this to be as good for Lex as it was for him. Lex thrust back at him just as actively, taking Clark in as deeply as he could, beating Clark to his release only by moments.
"Wow, Lex, you're full of surprises," Clark told him, panting, afterwards.
"But not as many as you," Lex countered. "I guess I'm going to have to brush up on my reading. And I suspect you've got a hell of a story to tell me."
"I guess I do." Clark was already slipping into sleep. "But next time we play with one of my costumes? I'm going to make you wear the kilt."
"Of course, Clark," Lex said. Before pulling the covers over them both, he scrawled a note to himself: research a LexCorp literary line.