Lex had always considered himself a master of multi-tasking but at that moment, he felt that moving his legs in a coordinated fashion was almost beyond his powers. Grimly determined not to let this show, he muttered one final reminder to the Secret Service agents. "I don't think there *is* anything that can take him out. You'll put me in more danger by intervening." It was a struggle of wills he wasn't sure he was ready for, but their unofficial voice, Thomas, lowered his gaze first.
"But Mr. President, if any of us think that you're in danger we can get you out of, we will act."
"Fine." This victory won, he said it almost absently, concentrating on what Pete had told him, that once he got the red stone away from Clark, he'd return to...well, whatever condition he'd return to.
Clark was leaning as casually as if he were eying the last few minutes of a movie's credits before leaving the theater. Lex began walking towards him.
"Clark?" he called, neither loudly nor softly, as soon as he was sure he was within the other's hearing range.
The casual glance over his shoulder turned into a feral smile. "Be right with you, a few things to finish up first." Another window collapsed as he returned his gaze to the building."
Lex came closer but had to bite his tongue to get enough saliva in his mouth to answer in a sensual rumble rather than a hoarse scratching. "And if I don't want to wait? You might not want to, either." That got Clark's attention and he turned around fully. Lex continued both his slow pace and conversation, "I'm rather hurt that you didn't even come first to me. I'd have thought you'd want to say hello." He'd only thought before that he'd seen somebody undress another with his eyes; Clark's heavy-lidded and unblinking gaze did that and more but he said nothing. Taking that as a good sign, Lex took another few, steady steps towards him, then tilted his head slightly to one side in a signal of surrender and flirtatiousness.
Clark's breathing was quickening and Lex now stood perfectly still. Instinct told him that the next move had to be Clark's and his instinct was rewarded when suddenly, Clark had him by the shoulders, pushing him down first to his knees, then prone, and was crouching over him in a stance that reminded Lex all too vividly of a predator and prey brought down. He managed another murmur, "I'm not one for audiences, Clark, can't we be a bit more...private?" He wasn't quite sure just what happened then, just that one moment he was outside with Clark straddling him, and then he was inside the building, in exactly the same relative position. He uneasily turned his head at the sounds of burning coming from other rooms.
"Scared?" Clark taunted, tongue flicking at his lips.
"Of not getting what I want," he answered, and reached up to pull Clark on top of himself. In an instant, his shirt was ripped off and Clark was mouthing him in a frenzy that only reinforced his earlier mental images. "Want you," he managed to whisper, and as he reached under Clark's t-shirt to pull it off, Clark momentarily stopped to complete the task, and threw the shirt across the room. Well, the red stone wasn't in there, clearly, since the eyes still locked on his were the cold blue of a gas flame that looks gelid even while it burns. Had to be in the sweat pants then, he decided, and ran his hands down to Clark's waist. He wasn't able to force back the tiny sound of pain as he saw the pants' loose fit and felt unexpectedly sharp ridges of bone, but Clark either didn't notice or ignored the dismay. As he pushed the pants down Clark's hips and Clark yanked them the rest of the way, momentarily turning his attention away from Lex as he threw them to join the shirt, Lex felt a sudden jolt of panic. The rock wasn't in the shirt pocket and the pants didn't have pockets.
Pulling Clark's briefs down and taking Clark in his mouth, he fought to keep concentration, despite both fear and a growing hunger for the body he'd missed so long, even if the Clark he loved seemed no longer to occupy it. Clark must have been just as impatient, as it was only a few seconds before liquid jutted into Lex's mouth, and the tension left his body and eyes.
Lex faked a satisfied chuckle. "Now, on your back," he whispered, and Clark complied, dilated eyes still sated. "I'm going to lick you all over," he promised, and pulled at Clark's shoes, one after the other. Hoping that Clark took his frenzy as sexual, he ripped at the socks and felt, to his immense relief, something small and hard in the folds of fabric as he threw them as far as he could.
Clark gasped and shivered, then turned to hide his face with his arm. Lex sat up and awkwardly pulled an unresisting Clark into his arms, cradling him awkwardly but gently, rocking him back and forth in slow, small motions as Clark buried his face in Lex's chest.
****
*More of that, I want more of that! They all do whatever I want them to do--run, or burn, or die. That's what the world will be like soon enough.*
*That's can't be Lex! Well, however he got here, nobody walks like that. And he's walking like he knows exactly what's going to happen. Let's make him wait a bit.*
*Hmmm, he doesn't want to wait. Should I make him be patient or...no, now I want it. Want him. Entirely mine. Mine under me and pounding into him until it feels like he'll split in two. Mine. Now.*
*I don't want them gawping either. There's part, still standing. Good thing I took my time burning the damn place.*
*Ah, God, that's, oh, God, he's mine. Now. In your mouth, Lex. Oh, God, coming, can't stop, don't want to.*
*Want more. More.*
*Naked, just like the time--no. Wait, I put the rock, so it wouldn't fall out...No. Oh, God, no. What have I done?*
*No, I don't deserve this, held and touched and your voice crooning to me but I can't make myself pull away. Oh, Lex...*
***
Pete's face was grim. "She's been asking questions. Finally asking the right people." During those days, the only "she" was Lois Lane, who had begun investigating what she called a mysterious cover-up of four attacks on medical and biotech facilities and one attack on a home. All starting with heat projected from some distance. Her theory so far was that it was a new weapon of some kind, but she didn't surmise, at least in print, about whose it was.
Lex didn't have much fear that she would. The facts themselves were fairly easy to cover up, if only because the people who witnessed the events were more scared of a repetition than of any reporter. But the fact of a coverup was harder to bury.
He almost would have enjoyed the hunt, turned it into a game. After all, he was close enough to re-election that her surmises came off as last-minute politically motivated attacks. Confuse the trail, deny everything, and keep his office. Except for the fact he wasn't able to wipe off his conscience, a conscience much more vocal than it should be: He had abused his office's powers to ensure the coverup.
He stood up. "I'm going to offer her a deal." He'd been keeping that back as a last card to play and now saw the time in which he still had some advantage was passing quickly.
***
"You offered her what?" Clark still looked so vulnerable, hair tousled, faint circles under his eyes which would have gone unnoticed on most faces but to Lex, were as vivid as bruises.
*My not running again," Lex repeated. "She gets the full exclusive story of why. At least my version of why."
"Lex, are you sure? Isn't there another way?" Jonathan looked at him almost pleadingly.
"Not without running more risks to what I care about most." He quickly averted his eyes from Jonathan's face. "My 'illness' leaves Pete free and clear. He'll get easily 80 percent of the last predicted votes for me and that by itself will take him cleanly over the edge. He'll probably pick up that remaining twenty and probably most of the undecideds. Once there's a debate, that is." He smiled faintly.
"Lex, I hate that you're giving it all up."
"Giving what up?" He saw Clark relax at the clear sincerity in his voice. "I've got you back."
"But Mr. President, if any of us think that you're in danger we can get you out of, we will act."
"Fine." This victory won, he said it almost absently, concentrating on what Pete had told him, that once he got the red stone away from Clark, he'd return to...well, whatever condition he'd return to.
Clark was leaning as casually as if he were eying the last few minutes of a movie's credits before leaving the theater. Lex began walking towards him.
"Clark?" he called, neither loudly nor softly, as soon as he was sure he was within the other's hearing range.
The casual glance over his shoulder turned into a feral smile. "Be right with you, a few things to finish up first." Another window collapsed as he returned his gaze to the building."
Lex came closer but had to bite his tongue to get enough saliva in his mouth to answer in a sensual rumble rather than a hoarse scratching. "And if I don't want to wait? You might not want to, either." That got Clark's attention and he turned around fully. Lex continued both his slow pace and conversation, "I'm rather hurt that you didn't even come first to me. I'd have thought you'd want to say hello." He'd only thought before that he'd seen somebody undress another with his eyes; Clark's heavy-lidded and unblinking gaze did that and more but he said nothing. Taking that as a good sign, Lex took another few, steady steps towards him, then tilted his head slightly to one side in a signal of surrender and flirtatiousness.
Clark's breathing was quickening and Lex now stood perfectly still. Instinct told him that the next move had to be Clark's and his instinct was rewarded when suddenly, Clark had him by the shoulders, pushing him down first to his knees, then prone, and was crouching over him in a stance that reminded Lex all too vividly of a predator and prey brought down. He managed another murmur, "I'm not one for audiences, Clark, can't we be a bit more...private?" He wasn't quite sure just what happened then, just that one moment he was outside with Clark straddling him, and then he was inside the building, in exactly the same relative position. He uneasily turned his head at the sounds of burning coming from other rooms.
"Scared?" Clark taunted, tongue flicking at his lips.
"Of not getting what I want," he answered, and reached up to pull Clark on top of himself. In an instant, his shirt was ripped off and Clark was mouthing him in a frenzy that only reinforced his earlier mental images. "Want you," he managed to whisper, and as he reached under Clark's t-shirt to pull it off, Clark momentarily stopped to complete the task, and threw the shirt across the room. Well, the red stone wasn't in there, clearly, since the eyes still locked on his were the cold blue of a gas flame that looks gelid even while it burns. Had to be in the sweat pants then, he decided, and ran his hands down to Clark's waist. He wasn't able to force back the tiny sound of pain as he saw the pants' loose fit and felt unexpectedly sharp ridges of bone, but Clark either didn't notice or ignored the dismay. As he pushed the pants down Clark's hips and Clark yanked them the rest of the way, momentarily turning his attention away from Lex as he threw them to join the shirt, Lex felt a sudden jolt of panic. The rock wasn't in the shirt pocket and the pants didn't have pockets.
Pulling Clark's briefs down and taking Clark in his mouth, he fought to keep concentration, despite both fear and a growing hunger for the body he'd missed so long, even if the Clark he loved seemed no longer to occupy it. Clark must have been just as impatient, as it was only a few seconds before liquid jutted into Lex's mouth, and the tension left his body and eyes.
Lex faked a satisfied chuckle. "Now, on your back," he whispered, and Clark complied, dilated eyes still sated. "I'm going to lick you all over," he promised, and pulled at Clark's shoes, one after the other. Hoping that Clark took his frenzy as sexual, he ripped at the socks and felt, to his immense relief, something small and hard in the folds of fabric as he threw them as far as he could.
Clark gasped and shivered, then turned to hide his face with his arm. Lex sat up and awkwardly pulled an unresisting Clark into his arms, cradling him awkwardly but gently, rocking him back and forth in slow, small motions as Clark buried his face in Lex's chest.
****
*More of that, I want more of that! They all do whatever I want them to do--run, or burn, or die. That's what the world will be like soon enough.*
*That's can't be Lex! Well, however he got here, nobody walks like that. And he's walking like he knows exactly what's going to happen. Let's make him wait a bit.*
*Hmmm, he doesn't want to wait. Should I make him be patient or...no, now I want it. Want him. Entirely mine. Mine under me and pounding into him until it feels like he'll split in two. Mine. Now.*
*I don't want them gawping either. There's part, still standing. Good thing I took my time burning the damn place.*
*Ah, God, that's, oh, God, he's mine. Now. In your mouth, Lex. Oh, God, coming, can't stop, don't want to.*
*Want more. More.*
*Naked, just like the time--no. Wait, I put the rock, so it wouldn't fall out...No. Oh, God, no. What have I done?*
*No, I don't deserve this, held and touched and your voice crooning to me but I can't make myself pull away. Oh, Lex...*
***
Pete's face was grim. "She's been asking questions. Finally asking the right people." During those days, the only "she" was Lois Lane, who had begun investigating what she called a mysterious cover-up of four attacks on medical and biotech facilities and one attack on a home. All starting with heat projected from some distance. Her theory so far was that it was a new weapon of some kind, but she didn't surmise, at least in print, about whose it was.
Lex didn't have much fear that she would. The facts themselves were fairly easy to cover up, if only because the people who witnessed the events were more scared of a repetition than of any reporter. But the fact of a coverup was harder to bury.
He almost would have enjoyed the hunt, turned it into a game. After all, he was close enough to re-election that her surmises came off as last-minute politically motivated attacks. Confuse the trail, deny everything, and keep his office. Except for the fact he wasn't able to wipe off his conscience, a conscience much more vocal than it should be: He had abused his office's powers to ensure the coverup.
He stood up. "I'm going to offer her a deal." He'd been keeping that back as a last card to play and now saw the time in which he still had some advantage was passing quickly.
***
"You offered her what?" Clark still looked so vulnerable, hair tousled, faint circles under his eyes which would have gone unnoticed on most faces but to Lex, were as vivid as bruises.
*My not running again," Lex repeated. "She gets the full exclusive story of why. At least my version of why."
"Lex, are you sure? Isn't there another way?" Jonathan looked at him almost pleadingly.
"Not without running more risks to what I care about most." He quickly averted his eyes from Jonathan's face. "My 'illness' leaves Pete free and clear. He'll get easily 80 percent of the last predicted votes for me and that by itself will take him cleanly over the edge. He'll probably pick up that remaining twenty and probably most of the undecideds. Once there's a debate, that is." He smiled faintly.
"Lex, I hate that you're giving it all up."
"Giving what up?" He saw Clark relax at the clear sincerity in his voice. "I've got you back."