Category: RWR, futurefic
Summary: “Just when things are going right, it always seems something truly craptastic happens to make everything come crashing down like a house of cards.”
Notes: Written for Vi as part of the SV Flash Fic challenge. The original challenge was Clark/Lex, a night in Metropolis. I hope you like it, even if I was kind of cavalier with the prompt. Special thanks go to Madelyn for putting all this together, Nightchik for the beta, and Reetchick and Meghan Marie for putting up with all my neurotic tendencies and comma splices ('Can you read it nooooooow? It is okay? Is it horrible? Should I just stop now before it sucks worse? Do I need to take a valium??').
I watch the blinding mix of ice and snow pelt the dented hood of the decrepit Ford Taurus I borrowed from Jerry in Copy as it quickly covers the partially rusted blue surface. Actually, it’s probably well on the way to blizzard status by now.
“Great.” Sighing, I fidget slightly behind the steering wheel and use my x-ray vision to peer through the snow, into the abandoned warehouse on the next block over.
This is just my luck -- the first night off Superman’s had in weeks, thanks to two revolutions and countless natural disasters, but Clark Kent has an assignment he can’t get out of. An assignment that requires a more subtle touch than an appearance by my spandex-wearing alter ego and a quick write up about it in the Planet.
An assignment that could ruin everything that’s actually going right in my life.
I realize I’ve been neglecting Lois, all too often leaving her to tie up loose ends at the paper while I run off to save the world, but no one can be everywhere at once, not even me. So, I swore I’d make it up to her. I promised I’d take the next big assignment all to myself, let Lois have a much-needed break.
I should have known she’d pick tonight, of all nights.
Her grin kind of reminded me of the Joker’s when she sat on my desk earlier today--I could nearly hear the accompanying maniacal laughter. She was wearing her red power suit and she had an evil little sparkle in her eye. All kinds of creepy.
I knew something was up from the very beginning because Lois only called me by my first name when she wanted something. Of course, the eyelash batting was a big, flashing neon sign, too.
Not bothering to look up from my e-mail, I tried to keep from sighing. “Yes, Lois?”
“Oh, please. How will my feminine wiles ever work if you’re not even looking?” She grinned at me then, in a way that was eerily similar to one of my boyfriend’s smirks. “Never mind.”
I rolled my eyes at Lois, turning my chair toward her. “That’s very mature.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Crossing her legs at the knee, Lois shrugged. “But you’re such an easy target.”
It was true. Lois liked to tease me about nearly every aspect of my life. By my reckoning, there was the gay thing, the being from a small town thing, the dating Lex Luthor thing, oh yeah, and the superhero thing after she found out about that. The tights were an especially easy target for her.
“Right. So, what’s up?”
There went that maniacal grin again. “I’m exercising my I’ll-make-it-up-to-you-Lois rights.”
Holding my hands up, I shook my head. “Look, Lois, I know I promised, but Lex will have my ass if I cancel on him again.” I figured it was unnecessary to mention the e-mail Lex had sent just that morning stating that if he didn’t get laid tonight, he was going to sell himself to the highest bidder on the corner of 8th and Main.
“Yeah, well, you might be seeing him tonight anyway,” she mumbled, shifting uncomfortably on my desk.
“What do you mean?”
Lois pretended to ignore me, studying her nails and the papers she was sitting beside, anything but look at me.
“Listen, I don’t want to get your red panties in a twist, Smallville.” She stopped suddenly, conflicted. “But, you need to prepare yourself for the real possibility that your sugar daddy is up to his shiny scalp in shit.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at that, a bright smile spreading over my face. “That’s absurd.”
“I’m serious, Clark. I got a tip from one of my sources that said he would be making a payoff at a warehouse down on 8th.” Lois slid off of my desk, placing her hand on my shoulder, and squeezed lightly. “So, I did some checking.”
She sounded serious. And that e-mail Lex sent about selling himself to the highest bidder didn’t seem quite so funny anymore. If it was one thing I’d learned over the years, there was no such thing as coincidence when it came to my boyfriend.
Trying to hide my worry, I feigned nonchalance. “And?”
“And, he owns it.”
“He owns a lot of buildings in Metropolis.” If I sounded slightly panicked, Lois couldn’t blame me for it.
“Yeah, but this tip came from a reliable source.” She drew her hand away from me, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back against my desk again. “Look, I don’t want it to be true either, but...”
I let her trail off, hating the doubt that was beginning to seep into my mind. Lex just wasn’t like that. Sure, maybe he once could have been, but that was years ago. And didn’t Lex always say that’s why he was so fortunate to have me? Like I was Lex’s personal morality barometer -- the one thing that kept Lex from being consumed by his name.
“Thanks, Lois.” I knew I didn’t sound grateful. “Do me a favor and just give me a when and where.”
Grabbing a scrap of paper and a pencil off of my desk, Lois scrawled down an address and handed it over. “I just know the where, the when wasn’t very clear.”
“Wonderful.” I managed not to incinerate the paper with my heat vision.
Needless to say, Lex was less than thrilled when I told him our plans for a quiet evening at home had changed at the last minute. He did that thing he does when I’ve pissed him off where he gets all quiet and stone-faced so he won’t break something very expensive over my invulnerable head and says something like, ‘I see,” or, ‘Yes, of course.’ Then he holed up in the study and ignored me until I left the penthouse--like I actually chose to forgo sex for another night in order to sit alone in a car for hours on end.
Of course, it’s not like I was too pleased with him in that moment either.
You know, if juggling my life as a reporter and my life as a superhero is nearly impossible, trying to juggle both of those and a personal life is just a sad, sad joke. Just when things are going right, it always seems something truly craptastic happens to make everything come crashing down like a house of cards.
I’m so entrenched in self-pity that I barely notice when a large black SUV pulls up just across the street from me. The right rear door opens into the swirling snow and ice, and a person dressed completely in black slides out, gingerly side-stepping the large pile of salt and muddy slush collected in the gutter and on the sidewalk. Closing the door, the figure bangs its open hand twice on the side of the SUV and watches the vehicle pull away before turning to shuffle quickly across the deserted street and toward my parked car.
That swirling trench coat could belong to only one man: Lex.
Damn Lois and her source. I can’t believe she sent me out on this assignment, knowing full well that it could be, no, is a conflict of interest for me. What’s worse, I can’t believe I agreed.
Ok, so, I have two choices here: I can be suspicious and royally piss Lex off, thereby ensuring my continued celibacy for the rest of my natural life, or I can give him the benefit of a doubt.
Denial, it’s the new black.
Leaning across the passenger seat, I open the door for Lex from the inside, not wanting to add to his earlier moodiness by making him stand outside in the snow for any longer than absolutely necessary. He slides in the car with more grace than should be physically possible under three or four layers of clothing, a heavy dusting of snow blowing in with him before he can shut the door.
“Clark,” it’s muffled by several layers of cashmere, but I can still make it out, “you have the worst luck in the world.”
Sighing, I watch as Lex sheds his outermost layer, melting snow shaking off onto the cigarette-burned seats and stained floorboards. “Seriously.”
So not thinking about why he’s here.
He unwinds the scarf from his neck, pausing to quickly yank the black hat off his head as if it’s an affront to his personal sense of style. Granted, it completely is, but that’s an old battle and I can recognize a Lexian olive branch when I see one.
“Only you would have stakeout duty on the coldest night so far this winter.” I’m amazed to see him produce a sleek metal thermos out of the folds of his jacket, and he smirks knowingly at me while he pulls his leather gloves off with his teeth.
“You’re such a closet boy scout.”
The smirk becomes a full-out grin as Lex crams his gloves into a coat pocket. “You have no idea.”
Ok, Lex doesn’t grin like that unless he’s about to crush someone like a bug, and he certainly doesn’t cram thousand dollar leather gloves into his jacket like they’re something he picked up at Wal-Mart on a whim. “Are you drunk?”
“Hmmm.” Lex seems to consider my question carefully while unscrewing the cap to his thermos, as if the correct answer will be the key to unlocking the secrets of the universe. “Not as of yet.”
“Lex, did you bring a thermos of hooch to my stakeout?”
He grunts as if offended. “This, Jonathan Kent, is coffee. I assure you.”
“Is it Irish?”
Shrugging, Lex smiles over the shiny rim, drinking deeply. When he’s done, he settles against the ratty seat with only a slight grimace. “Besides, I needed a little Dutch courage before I’d ever set foot in this.”
Ok, so maybe Lois was full of beans. I mean, it’s really difficult to suspect a man, boyfriend or not, of misdeeds when he shows up drunk, or at least well on his way, to keep you company on a stakeout in the middle of a blinding snowstorm.
“So,” Lex pauses to scowl at the sun-cracked dashboard, “what does one do on a stakeout?”
I sigh as he leans carefully away from the ripped upholstery on the passenger side door and toward me--he can’t have had too much to drink if he’s still that OCD. “A lot of waiting and watching.”
“Hmmm.” He screws the cap back on his coffee, placing it gingerly in the floor. “So, you wait and you watch, but do you ever get lucky?”
Wait. Back up a second. Does he mean lucky as in sexual escapades when he says ‘lucky’ or does he mean get-your-man kind of lucky? And why is it suddenly so hot in here?
“Um, well, I guess?”
Smiling serenely, Lex shifts as close to me as the center armrest will allow and trails his hand over my right arm. “Would you like me to help you clarify that a little?”
I don’t realize I said that out loud until Lex laughs gently, his warm breath washing over my ear as cold fingers glide up my neck. “I’ll assume that means yes.”
He turns my face toward his, fingers firm on my chin, and devours my mouth like he’s starving. I don’t think we’ve done more than a quick peck or a fast grope as I run out the door for the past who knows how long, so maybe it is a little like starvation. His tongue strokes over mine, exploring and tasting and taking, and I’m not completely sure who’s making that moaning noise, but it could be either or both of us at this point and I’d be none the wiser.
Gasping and flushed, Lex breaks away from me. “I’d say you’re about to get quite lucky, Mr. Kent.”
“God!” I gasp as his elegant fingers quickly unfasten my belt and open my fly, invulnerable lungs inexplicably short of breath as his hand works into my pants. “May- maybe we shouldn’t be doing this here.”
Flashing me an enigmatic little smirk, kiss-reddened lips curving up slightly at one side, he summarily ignores my warning. Cool palm and colder fingers wrap around my heated skin and grasp me firmly, pulling my cock out of my boxers and sagging pants.
So familiar, but in the best kind of way.
Lex’s humid breath washes over the leaking head as he leans down over my lap, his tongue just barely grazing me. “Such a tease-”
He takes my cock into his mouth then, maybe in response, but more likely to shut me up. I feel his fingers leave my erection and dig into my thighs as he swallows me, taking me into his tight throat, sucking and just-
And it’s just, over. Done. Complete white-out. My eyes roll back in my head and I hang on to the steering wheel for dear life, the vinyl covered plastic squeaking pitifully as it buckles in my hands. Lex sucks me dry, his throat rhythmically caressing my sensitive cock as he swallows. He lets me slide slowly out of his mouth, giving my cock one final lick before raising his head off my lap.
“Still with me, Clark?”
I manage to whimper a little as he pries my hands away from the crumpled wheel and climbs carefully into my lap. He strokes my face, now-warmed fingers sliding over my cheekbones and eyebrows. Chests pressing together in the cramped space, I feel Lex’s impressive erection against my stomach as he leans in for a deep kiss.
God, I can taste myself in his mouth.
So fucking hot.
“Let’s go home and finish this,” he breathes against my lips.
“Can’t. I’m, um, waiting?” What was I waiting for again?
He laughs a little and I open my eyes just in time to see him roll his. “Please, Clark, I own every building in this part of town. Nothing goes on here unless I know about it.”
Don’t remind me.
“As I’m well aware.” I let more worry seep into my voice than I really mean to, and I can tell Lex understands exactly what I’m implying.
He gives me a secret little smile, the corners of his mouth just barely tilting up. “Let me see, Lois received a tip from a so-called reliable source indicating there would be nefarious actions on my part happening about a block over from here tonight, yes?”
I just raise an eyebrow at him. He always has an answer for everything.
Openly grinning, he grinds his cock into my lap. The grin just gets brighter when he discovers I’m already half-hard again, unbelievably turned on by his impromptu lap dance.
“Public indecency--that nefarious enough for you, Kent?”
I’m such a sucker.
Special note: The title comes from the Kansas state law for Lewd and Lascivious Behavior (KSA 21-3508). Have a nice day!