When My Love Swears

by elanorelle

"He's heard the old platitude about how beautiful people look when they're walking out the door."

Title: When My Love Swears

Author:  elanorelle

Disclaimer: If they were mine, they'd be gayer, nakeder and covered in glitter. Also Lex would work on the farm, absolutely.all.the.time. o_0

Feedback: Would be cuddled and adored. This is the first time I've let anyone other than my friends read anything I've written, so any comments would be wonderful. I'm not too confident in my writing skills and so any constructive criticism would be great, but please be gentle?

A/N: This just sort of… flowed, mostly. Not quite sure if it makes much sense but this is just how it came out. It was going to finish with Lex actually leaving, but I couldn't quite make that work. This way seemed better (Plus the quote didn't really work if I wrote that ending!).

"When my love swears that she is made of truth,

I do believe her, though I know she lies."

            - Shakespeare, Sonnets 138

He's heard the old platitude about how beautiful people look when they're walking out the door.

What no one told him, however, was how beautiful someone can look when you *are* the one walking out the door, and they're left standing there staring after you with dark, dark eyes that hide so many things from you but which scream out one wholly undeniable truth: "I love you." But, damn it, there's nothing Lex can *do* about that because they've been here before and he made the mistake then of letting that one truth override all the other lies and all it did was lead them back here again.

Back to the hallway with suitcases packed and coat and shoes and gloves on and absolute silence and that's new: before it had been loud and vocal and there'd been tears and recriminations and so *many* lies that even *his* father might have been shocked.

But it hadn't mattered because sometime or other they'd met in the middle and that was *never* good because at *that* close proximity somehow the lies seemed insignificant next to the pure, raw, *heat* in those eyes.

But that's not something he can afford to remember right now because this *has* to be a clean break: staying is not an option this time, shouldn't ever have been, except before there had been so many desperate promises of honesty and openness – things which he's not sure either one of them is really capable of but which were so easy to believe.

Like everything the boy ever said. His was the kind of face that looked to be made of nothing but innocence and truth, even when all that spouted from its lips were lies. A face which teachers would believe when the old tired excuses for late homework were reeled out; a face which doting parents trusted when apologies were given for staying out late; a face which could convince people of the truth in any lie.

Which is strange, because actually Lex doesn't think he's ever met a worse liar. But then, the trick has never been to convince people that he's telling the truth – not really. It's been to use that *face* to show exactly what's a stake. To remind people that if they expose the lies, if they don't accept the false truths they're fed, then this is what they'll lose.

That's what's kept him here so long. It's why he's never been able to leave – that face. He couldn't risk losing it any more than he can live without oxygen, because despite the lies, the boy is just so *full* of truth that it makes Lex want to laugh and cry and scream and *sing* for Christ's sake, and if there's one thing a Luthor doesn't do, it's sing.

Except he does. Not literally, of course, except a bit of Puccini when there's been a *lot* of Scotch, but he can feel his body singing out whenever Clark's near. Like it's doing now – crying out to close the gap between them, to live the lie and go on pretending, anything to keep that beautiful face with it's dark, dark eyes in his life.

And it's possible, just *possible*, that's he's looked this beautiful once before, but sometimes Lex thinks that was a different boy, that maybe he's remembering wrong because how could someone *that* beautiful be so full of deceit? Back then, though, there hadn't been so much between them – only six years and a few billion dollars. Now there was so much more. Five years of passion and fire and fervour and *love* - tempered with fear and doubt and more lies than anyone should ever have to live with.

They'd been around back then as well, but friends weren't required to share as much as lovers, and anyway, the deception was fresh and new and kind of exciting. Now it only festered in dark corners and behind the walls of falsehood which they both constructed, and the stench of deceit was constant in the air.

It was too much to live with. Too much to have to dissect every answer Clark gave, trying to get the truth out of the rest of his shameless duplicity, and too much to find himself believing anything the boy said, however implausible, just because of the look in his eyes.

The eyes which now lie hooded beneath lids and thick lashes. Lex has been so used to *seeing* Clark's eyes during the previous attempts at leaving, and he guesses that's what's prevented him from leaving thus far.

But not this time. Nothing to keep him there now, and so the quick step out of the open door with his suitcase is easier than he thought it would be. Leaves his keys on the end table by the door and shuts it behind him. Takes the elevator down to the lobby of the building then out the front door to the parking lot. Breathes in lungfuls of cold autumn air.

Can't quite believe that he's actually left this time. Takes him a moment to realise that he's outside now. Dusk. Car waiting – go towards it. But the steps are slow and uncertain in comparison to his quick escape from the building – his dawdling the manifestation of the desire he can't admit but still harbours, that maybe Clark will catch up with him. That there'll be kisses and more lies and a return to the status quo which he *knows* can't last, but which he wishes they could prolong anyway.

But, of course, he doesn't come. Lex reaches the car door accompanied by nothing more than a breeze, and along with the crushing black despair, there's a sense of relief. Because he *knows* the future's black now – knows that he's alone, and yes, maybe sees that he's lost too – falling, falling, falling like he's been falling ever since his mother died, like he fell for the boy with the dark, dark eyes – but he can't help thinking… that's all okay as long as the lies stop. There's never *been* anyone before with whom the truth mattered, and now that there won't be again, the shadows and filth everyone but Clark has always seen in his soul can do what they want. Cloud his mind and corrode his character with thick , bitter bile. Now that he doesn't need the truth from anyone anymore, he can forsake honesty in himself.

He's not even sure if any of that makes sense, his head is so jumbled at the moment, but it doesn't matter because as soon as he gets back to the Penthouse he can start running on autopilot – think about work, money, his latest merger or buy out or even the next society dinner he's meant to be attending. He's been neglecting those sorts of things recently, but if he can just get in the car now, then he can go back to a simpler life where truth just doesn't matter.

Fingers on the door handle now, and he's just about to open the door when the wind picks up again around him for a moment. Presence behind him and like so many times before, Clark's there far more quickly than he should be. But Lex knows there's no point in stating the obvious, so he keeps his back to the boy and simply says: "Clark?"

Pause. Clark fakes some heavy breathing in a half hearted attempt to convince Lex that he's simply run the 10 floors down to the parking lot and nothing more, but then seems to forget his façade and just stands there. And yes, maybe the Luthors did write the book on uncomfortable silences, but that doesn't mean Lex enjoys them in any way, so he breaks this one with a sigh and then speaks over his shoulder.

"Clark, much as I'm enjoying this… moment we're sharing, I really would rather be getting on, so if you've nothing to say—"

"Don't go."

There's a pleading, desperate, *longing* in that voice, and it breaks Lex's heart, but as long as he can't *see* him, as long as the eyes remain hidden then he can ignore it. Ignore it and resist it and pretend that it's meant for someone else. If he just keeps staring straight ahead…

"Why Clark? So I can stay here and listen to you lie some more? Lie about where you've been, what you've been doing…" his voice hardens on the next bit "… who you've been with?" They both know that Lex doesn't believe for a second Clark's cheating on him, but it's just easier to pretend that Lex's suspicions come from less shaky ground than seemingly impenetrable skin and the ability to catch the train to work even when it left 5 minutes before Clark set foot out the door.

"Lex, I'm sorry, okay? I never meant to hurt you, you have to believe—"

Lex has to force himself not to turn around and yell his interruption right in Clark's face. That can only end badly, and so he keeps on looking over the roof of the car and talking over his shoulder.

"How *can* I believe anything you say, Clark?" And he's getting anxious now, because this argument is horribly familiar. This is the same ground they've covered so many times before, and that's worrying because up until now it's been *different* to the other times, and he's ready to finally end it and make the break he's been planning out in his head ever since the first time this happened.

So when Clark starts on the 'It's not like you haven't got any secrets' rant, Lex decides he'd rather just skip to the end.

"So you're telling me you haven't been compulsively lying to me the last 5 years?"

From his tone, Clark seems slightly taken aback by that statement so early on in the argument and he hesitates slightly before: "Lex, it's not as simple as that."

"I'm making it that simple." Clichéd he knows, but everything else about this moment is so repetitive that it seems fitting. "Are you telling me that all those times I fell asleep without you that you were completely honest about where you'd been the next morning?"

Pause. He doesn't expect anything else – the answer will always be the same: non-existent.

So Lex just exhales sharply, shakes his head and goes to open the car door. It's slammed shut again before he can complete the action, however, and he's trapped against it by a body he knows as well as his own and yet can't bring himself to touch. Breath, voice on the back of his neck, but he's still not looking and he needs to remain that way. Doesn't listen to Clark's admissions of guilt, because he knows that no matter how many times he admits he's lied – Lex will still never get the truth out of Clark.

Just succeeded in tuning him out when Clark turns him round, roughly.

"Lex, look at me."

Hands on his shoulders, but he won't look. He won't he won't he won't he won't - like a mantra screaming in his head. Looks at his shoes instead, wonders if he can fit in some time tomorrow to buy some new ones. Hands insistent, but he's gotten too far this time. Can't afford to look now.

"For Christ's sake – LOOK AT ME."

Then suddenly the hands are on his face and despite his best efforts he can't physically stop them from jerking his head up. Doesn't close his eyes in time either and then… there it is. Just like before – the eyes, and the look, and the proximity and the pure, raw, *heat* which Lex can see building.

"Lex, I swear," Words spoken softly and urgently, as if they mean more to him then any words ever have before. Well, since the last time he spoke them, anyway, "I swear, I won't lie to you anymore."

Lips too close to his now. Last words let out on a breath, "I love you."

And the truth which his eyes speak on those three words does exactly what Lex knew it would. Everything he's been so resolved on tonight – everything he's known for so damn long, is lost now in the truth of that gaze. And yet his fingers still rest on the door handle… if he could just pull away, he'd be free of the lies forever—

But he doesn't even finish that thought because that's the very moment that Clark chooses to add lips to the equation and there's absolutely nothing more Lex can do. Eyelids fluttering shut, shielding him from the dark eyes, but it makes no difference now. There is nothing but the kiss, and when that's over there'll be more, and then they'll just fall back into the same old routine they've been following for the last five years.

Clark will lie, and Lex will believe him.

For as long as there are looks of truth and three little words and kisses, Lex will wholly believe whatever Clark tells him.

Even though he sees the lies as clear as day.

He knows that there'll come a time when kisses won't be enough – when there'll finally be a break and it'll be forever, but not this night. As much as he might crave it, the day when the lies stop has not come yet.

At least today he made it to the parking lot.

END