Unrequited

By RC

Based off a prompt from DarkAngel048, where Top!Whitney and Bottom!Clark are at a Christmas party hosted by Lex, and Lex is madly in love with Clark.

Disclaimer: Didn't get them for Christmas, so they aren't mine…

A/N: Rated M for strong D/S themes, however, there is no smut. No matter how hard I tried, it just wouldn't work. And for those of you who are wondering, I have not abandoned Forbidden Fruit. Real life just…got in the way. I hope to have another chapter up soon.

Pairings: Whitney/Clark, one-sided Lex/Clark, implied Lex/Bruce.

O~o~O

Lex couldn't not stare at them. Despite the blonde bimbo hanging off his arm, Lex couldn't tear his gaze away from the dark haired farmboy who was wiping his boots on the door-matt. He wanted so badly to make a move on the farm fresh jailbait, who had the body of an angel, a loving heart, and child-like innocence that Lex wanted so badly to protect, but as Bruce Wayne had so kindly pointed out when he had last visited Smallville, Clark was meant for someone else. No, not the dark haired girl-next-door that Clark had once been infatuated with, but rather her ex-boyfriend, the captain of the football team, Whitney Fordman.

Lex remembered exactly how Clark had looked when he announced his feelings for Whitney. He had rushed into the mansion, barely avoiding knocking over some priceless vase on a pedestal. His cheeks were flushed pink with embarrassment as he spilled his secret to Lex, forgetting that his latest crush was responsible for crucifying him only a month earlier.

Lex, of course, couldn't let that happen. "You almost died!" Lex had said more harshly than he meant to, feeling a rush of guilt when Clark flinched. "If I hadn't come, the meteor rock would have killed you."

Yes, Lex knew that secret. Over the past few weeks, Clark had seemed to realize that despite his last name, Lex was someone he could trust. While watching Star Trek and eating pizza at the mansion one night, Clark had confided that he wasn't human, and Lex has become even more protective of the fifteen year-old farmboy.

Clark, of course, hadn't cared. "Lex, he was just protecting Lana," he whined, sounding utterly adorable even when dealing with a teenage crisis. "I want him to protect me like that. He said he'd never hurt me again…" Clark's voice had trailed off and he mumbled something Lex couldn't quite hear.

"What was that, Clark?"

Clark' blushed as he muttered, "He promised he'd never hurt me again unless I wanted him to."

So that's how a fifteen year-old virginal alien farmboy found himself involved in a D/S relationship. Lex reluctantly supported him, warning that if anything he saw transformed itself into domestic abuse, he would make Whitney regret it. Clark had smiled and hugged him tightly, while all the while Lex felt his heart break as he inhaled Clark's apple scented shampoo.

Lex watched with jealousy as Whitney, always a step behind his boyfriend, helped Clark out of his coat and handed it off to Enrique, pressing a possessive hand to the small of Clark's back and led him into the party.

Nell Potter, the bitch, had gone all out decorating, and Luthor Mansion was transformed into a winter wonderland. A Christmas tree that was elegantly decorated rested in a corner of the ballroom, while the stone walls were sparking with tinsel and lights. But the most beautiful thing in the room was the submissive farmboy who Whitney was pushing toward the center of the room.

"Lex!" Clark called out, grinning. He looked back at Whitney for permission (disgusting), who nodded (thatbastardsonofabitch) and glided over to where Lex and his date were standing (sobeautifulsoinnocentsopure).

"Why don't you tell Mr. Wayne how attractive he looks in that suit," Lex cooed into the bimbo's ear, watching with relief as she giggled and sauntered off.

Lex clapped Clark on the shoulder. "Merry Christmas, Clark." His eyes narrowed as he stared at the blonde. "Whitney."

"Mr. Luthor." Whitney's tone was cold.

Lex narrowed his eyes. "If you don't mind, could I have a moment alone with Clark?"

Whitney's eyes scanned over Clark possessively. "Fine. Ten minutes."

Clark watched the quarterback walk away, his eyes glowing with admiration.

"Clark…"

"Lex," Clark interrupted. "I'm happy with him."

Lex nodded, grabbed a flute of champagne from a nearby waiter, twirling the liquid. "I just worry, Clark. BDSM relationships aren't something the quarterback knows how to play safely."

Clark crossed his arms. "You don't have to be so overprotective, Lex."

"Oh really?" Lex arched an eyebrow. "Does he give you a safeword? Ask you for your colors?"

Clark frowned. "Colors?"

Lex tried to keep his voice calm. "Whitney has no idea how these things work!"

"Oh," the farmboy snapped. "And you do?"

"I do." Lex grabbed Clark's arm, ignoring how the boy flinched. "I've been in quite a few Dom/Sub relationships, Clark. And if your Dom isn't experienced, you could get hurt."

Clark shrugged off Lex's hand and hunched his shoulders. "Whitney won't hurt me."

"He nearly killed you, Clark. He tied you up like a scarecrow and left you to die! Don't you dare tell me that this is safe relationship to be in." Lex grabbed Clark again, dragging him down the hallway, ignoring the confused stares of Chloe and Pete, and Clark's protests of "Whitney."

Lex, threw open the door to the coat closet, waving Enrique off and ushering Clark inside.

Clark rarely looked so irritated. "Lex, what the heck?" The boy was in an intense Dom/Sub relationship and he couldn't even bring himself to curse.

"Listen, I've been patient with you long enough. Being in a BDSM relationship doesn't mean that that Whitney, as your so-called 'Dom,' has the power to authority to order you around. This sort of relationship is all about trust. You're giving total control of your body and mind to someone else, and in turn they assume the role of a provider and caretaker. Whitney is inexperienced, everything he knows about BDSM is from porn. A Dom should be someone who knows all your secrets and is able to provide relief from that responsibility. He shouldn't be someone that you feel obligated to be with. And he certainly shouldn't be your high school boyfriend who just wants to be able to control you like he couldn't control Lana!"

Lex paused his ranting, watching as Clark furiously blinked back tears. Lex knew it was way over ten minutes, and that Whitney was probably trying to find Clark. Honestly, he couldn't care less if some blonde high school senior glared him at for stealing his boyfriend. In the long run, Clark's safety was much more important.

"I really like him, Lex." Clark's countenance was heartbreaking, like Lex had just killed his puppy. "Why can't you just give him the benefit of a doubt?"

Lex shook his head, his voice stern. "He's not someone you can trust, Clark."

"That's what people said about you too, Lex, and they were wrong!" Clark yanked the handle off the door and tossed it over his shoulder as he stormed out of the closet, eyes searching around the room for Whitney.

"Clark!"

The farmboy turned around sharply. "What now?"

"Do you love him?"

Clark hesitated. Lex thought that maybe Clark would finally reconsider, but then…

"Yes." Clark grabbed Whitney's hand the moment the blonde crossed the room to greet his boyfriend. "Come on, Whitney, can we go?"

Whitney nodded, accepting both his and Clark's coats from Enrique, his blue eyes boring into Lex. "Mr. Luthor."

"Whitney." Lex's eyes softened as he looked at the petulant farmboy. "Clark."

Clark rolled his eyes, and Whitney, with a scowl, pushed his submissive out the front door.

Lex watched Enrique close the door with a sigh, heading back into the throng of Smallville's finest. He headed upstairs; the urge to get drunk and try to forget about Clark was too strong to resist. He had just poured himself a glass of scotch, when Gotham's own Bruce Wayne entered from the study's shadows. Lex blinked, not surprised at all by his friend's entrance.

Bruce took a seat across from Lex, leaning forward, elbows to his knees, icy blue eyes surveying his friend.

"Have you considered that maybe Clark does love him?" Bruce asked.

Lex snorted into his drink. "Please. He's fifteen. It won't last."

"It never does." Bruce sank back into the couch. "But you love him."

It wasn't a question. Lex nodded in defeat. "Am I that obvious?"

"Only to me, seeing as we've known each other since we were kids."

Lex's mouth twitched upwards in a small smile. "If he and Whitney really do make it, I'll support his decision and be happy for him. And if not… I'll make my move. I am content, however, to be his friend even if I can't be his lover. He means that much to me."

Bruce nodded solemnly. "Then you should apologize if you want to keep his friendship." He retrieved the phone from Lex's desk, handing it over, but not before placing a gentle kiss on Lex's lips. "Call," Bruce said. "I'll be downstairs."

Lex stared at the phone, watching Bruce exit the room out of the corner of his eye. Wearily, he pressed the numbers he knew by heart, placed the phone to his ear, and waited for Martha Kent to answer.

END