scribblinlenore | Love for Sale (aka Hooker!Clark), Part 13

And here's the second part of this installment...

***

Clark didn't return the next day or the day after that, and Lex finally had to admit that he probably wasn't ever coming back, not unless Lex could find him and convince him. He desperately combed through Clark's things at the apartment, looking for anything that might give him a clue where he'd gone. The only thing he'd found out of the ordinary was a crumpled ball of checks, uncashed, all the money he'd paid Clark while it was still supposedly a business arrangement. That was like being pierced through the heart.

He called Tucker immediately and put him on it

"It's not the kind of thing I usually handle," he said somewhat skeptically.

"It's important, and you're the only one I trust. And I'm willing to pay whatever you want."

"I'll see what I can do."

Their investigation, however, failed to turn up any leads. Clark had a runaway's talent for disappearing and staying hidden, and Tucker's people had their finger on the pulse of corporate America, not the flesh districts of Metropolis. Some instinct warned Lex against calling Phelan, although he would have better contacts for the job. Finally, Lex just decided to go out looking himself. Clark had left without money, without clothes, without anything, and the idea of him cold and destitute was killing him.

It seemed logical to start where everything had begun.

"Why are you looking for him?" the bartender down at the club asked him a little warily when he inquired whether he'd seen "Jerry" lately.

"It's just very important that I speak with him."

The man gave him an appraising look. "Hasn't been around lately. Sorry. Can't help you." He turned around and went back to stocking the bar.

"Please." He let his desperation show, something his pride would not ordinarily have permitted, but he got the feeling this man knew more than he was saying and this was his only real lead. "Something happened and-- I just really need to find him. Tell him--" God, just how sorry he was.

The man sighed and stopped what he was doing. "He's a good kid. Not like some of them that come through here."

"I know that. It's why I'm here."

His expression was reluctant, but he finally said, "You got a pen?" Lex quickly fished his out of his pocket, and the bartender wrote an address on a cocktail napkin. "I heard through the grapevine he's got a place over there."

"Thank you." Lex tucked the napkin into his pocket with great care, as if it were the most valuable thing he had. "I can't even tell you how much I appreciate this."

"Yeah, well. I didn't do it for you. I did it for the kid. He deserves better than this."

Lex swallowed hard. "Yes, yes, he does."

He drove to the address the bartender had given him, parked and got out. To call Clark's building a tenement would actually have been a compliment. The ramshackle frame structure was covered in grime and graffiti. There were broken windows boarded up with cardboard, and the front steps sagged rather precariously. Lex waited for someone to come out and darted in while the door was still open. The interior was just as shabby, most of the light bulbs burned out, giving the hallway an unnatural sense of twilight. Dusty footprints tracked up the steps, and the walls were smeared with grease. Maintenance, apparently, wasn't much of a priority.

Lex climbed the steps two at a time and stopped on the fourth floor. Hcould feel his heart pounding in his throat as he knocked. The door opened, and then Clark was standing right there, blinking, startled to see him.

"Lex--" He shuffled his feet nervously. "I wasn't expecting--" He trailed off, and his eyes dropped to the floor.

"Can I come in?"

"Well--"

"Please? Just for a minute. I only want to talk."

"I guess," Clark finally relented and let him in.

A young man came striding out of the bedroom, pulling on his shirt. "Clark, I'm going to take off now." He stopped in surprise when he saw Lex.

Lex had no moral ground to stand on. He'd slept with someone else when they were still together, which was far worse than this. And yet, he was blindsided by rage. Someone else had been with Clark, touched him, maybe been inside him, gotten to see and hear and feel him at his most intimate, and that was supposed to belong only to him. He felt a new wave of guilt about what Clark must have gone through that night at the carnival. Because right now Lex felt like he was being stabbed in the gut, and all he could think about was murdering the bastard who'd had the temerity to fuck the man he loved.

The guy shot Clark a look of concern. "Hey, is everything okay--" He reached for Clark's arm.

Before Lex could even stop himself he was pushing him away. "Get your fucking hands off him!" he yelled, taking a menacing step forward.

"Lex! No!" Clark's arm swung across his chest, holding him back. "He's just my roommate, Lex. My roommate."

The roommate's face went bright red with anger. "Tell your goddamned boyfriend to back off, man."

"Sorry about that, Trey. He's not going to make any more trouble, are you, Lex?" he asked, pointedly.

Lex shook his head and took a deep breath, trying to collect himself.

Trey rolled his eyes. "Later, man." He slammed the door.

"Nice guy," Lex said, dryly.

"Well, he is when he's not being attacked. What was that about, anyway?"

"I--" He couldn't meet Clark's eyes. "I thought--"

"I don't do that kind of work anymore. I have a job over at the supermarket. And besides, I'm not like you, Lex. I don't move on that fast."

If Clark had hit him, it wouldn't have hurt so much. "I'm sorry--"

"But if I had been fucking him, that would have been my business, not yours. Why did you even come here?"

His throat was so dry it was hard to speak. "I want another chance."

Clark stared at him incredulously. "Why? You're obviously tired of me. Ready to take up with some--" He clenched his jaw. "Somebody else."

"That not true. I--"

"I can't just be the whore you fuck when it's convenient, Lex. Not when I--" He broke off, a quaver in his voice.

"You're not! God. You're--" He struggled to find the right word. "You're everything, Clark. Do you understand that? Everything."

Clark shook his head, his eyes shining. "If I was, you wouldn't have-- Why did you do that, Lex? Why couldn't you just tell me you wanted to end it?" His voice was desperate and searching.

"I didn't want to end it. I don't. I swear to God." Lex closed his eyes. "I just-- I was jealous."

Clark didn't react for a moment. "What?"

He swallowed hard. "I thought you were having an affair. With Henry Howell."

Clark looked even more confused. "Because he talked to me? Because we played a game of Skeeball?" Clark stared at him in bewilderment. "And anyway, he's getting married."

"Yes, well, I know that now."

Clark shook his head. "You really don't get it, do you? I mean, besides the obvious that I just wouldn't ever, ever do that. Do you think any of those people in your circle give a shit about me? Except maybe Mitzi. Henry for sure doesn't. He was just being nice to me to suck up to you. All those people who were so eager to talk to me at the party? It's only because I'm with you. You're-- everyone wants to know you. And that's the only reason they get to know me. If I weren't with you, they wouldn't give me the time of day. No matter how nice they ever are, I never forget that."

"Clark, that's not--"

"It is true, Lex. You just don't see it because you--" He swallowed painfully. "Or at least you used to." His voice went soft, choked. "Did you arrange to meet her there?"

"No! God, no. Clark." He grabbed his arm. "I didn't. I wouldn't. I just-- I saw you with Henry and I thought-- I was going to get my coat and leave. And she was there. I was drunk and angry and--" His throat hurt so much. "It just happened. I swear."

"I don't understand how you could think I'd cheat on you. After I told you how much I love you."

"People say that, Clark. They don't always mean it. People play games. They--"

"I don't," he said, with a flash of anger.

"I realize that now. I do. And I should have understood it before."

Clark looked at him hard. "It was your father, wasn't it? He made you believe things about me."

"My father-- He thinks happiness makes people soft, and it's his mission in life to see that I’m not soft. But I'm the one who-- did what I did. I take responsibility for it. It was my fault and nobody else's."

Clark's expression was thoughtful "That's how I found you. Your father. He told me where you were. Said you needed help. Needed me."

He probably shouldn't have been surprised by any cold-blooded thing his father did, but this viciousness had been directed at Clark and that made it different, made it so much worse. "I'm so sorry you got caught up in this mess between me and my father. I'm so sorry you were hurt"

"Tell me you didn't want her," Clark said, a little desperately.

"I didn't. I swear to God. She's just somebody from the past. We don't even like each other. I just-- I wasn't thinking. And afterwards-- I can't even tell you how much I regretted it." He squeezed his eyes shut. "That's when she told me what she'd heard you and Henry talking about and-- I hated myself even more."

Clark's eyes widened. "She was part of it, too?"

Lex sighed. "I'm a complete fucking idiot."

"No, you're not. But you should have believed in me."

"I know. I was wrong, Clark. Very, very wrong." He moved closer, touched Clark's arm. "But please give me another chance. Let me make it up to you somehow. I'll do anything. I'll find a way. I promise. Just come home. Please. Come home with me where you belong."

Clark looked away. "I can't do that, Lex. I'm sorry. I just-- can't."

It's not like he'd expected Clark to agree right away, but the firmness of the rejection cut him. "Look, I know you don't trust me anymore. And for good reason. But if you'd just let me--"

"It's me I don't trust." He glanced down at Lex's wrist. "Is it broken?"

Lex was startled. "Um. No. Just a bruise."

"You went to the hospital and had it checked out?"

"I had a doctor I know take a look."

Clark frowned. "Did you have it x-rayed?"

"No. But it's fine, Clark. Really."

"Jesus, Lex. You could be walking around with a broken wrist." He reached for Lex's arm but then froze. "Is this all right?" Lex nodded, and Clark took his wrist gingerly in his hand and stared at it for a moment. "It's not broken," he said with relief.

Lex smiled crookedly. "Told you."

Clark actually smiled, too. For a moment, it was almost like nothing had happened. But only for a moment.

"I still can't go home with you," Clark said.

"But why?"

"Because I did that, and I'm dangerous." Lex had never seen a more heart-breaking look on anyone's face.

"Clark, everyone loses their temper sometime. Everyone does things they wish--"

"I'm not everyone!" His face was filled with misery. "I can't afford to lose control, Lex. I can't get carried away. I could-- I could have done serious damage." His voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper. "I could have killed you."

"Clark--"

"I hurt the people I care about. I don't mean to. But I do." He shook his head. "And I can't do that to you. I won't."

"You were hurt. Upset. You can't condemn yourself for one--"

"It's not just one time. You don't know everything about me. The things I've done." He looked down at the floor. "When I first got to Metropolis I was really messed up and-- scary." His voice shook. "I wanted to believe that wasn't me. That it was only because I wasn't in my right mind. But it's a part of me, that dark, ugly place. And it always will be."

"Everyone has darkness inside them. God knows I do, more than my fair share I'm pretty sure. And everyone has to fight that aspect of their nature. That's part of being human. Maybe it's true that you're not like everyone else, that it's more important for you to win your battle. But I know you will, because you're the kindest, most decent person I've ever known. Even though it probably doesn't seem like, I do honestly trust you, Clark. More than I've ever trusted anyone in my whole life."

Clark looked almost hopeful, like he wanted to believe, but wasn't quite certain if he dared. "Are you sure you're not afraid of me?"

"The only thing I'm scared of is losing you."

There was still hesitation in Clark's eyes, but he finally said, "Things would have to be different."

Hoped leaped wildly in Lex's chest. "Anything."

"I need you to tell me when something's bothering you, not keep it all bottled up inside. I knew something was wrong, that it had been for weeks, but I didn't know exactly what. If you'd talked to me about it, maybe I could have helped, shown you that you don't have anything to worry about. Maybe things would have been different."

Lex nodded. "You're right. I know you're right. I should have told you."

Clark's voice softened. "I know things have happened, and you have your reasons why you do things the way you do. But just try to remember I'm me, not them. Okay?"

"Okay."

Clark stroked his fingers along Lex's sleeve, just above the bandage. "And I won't ever, ever do this again. I swear to God."

"I know you won't. Is there anything else?"

"Just one more thing. I'm going to keep my job and apply for scholarships and go to school part-time if that's all I can afford. I'm going to buy my own books and my own clothes and any other stuff I need. I'm not going to let you pay for everything anymore."

"Clark, I really don't mind--"

"But I do." He sighed. "I need to stand on my own two feet, Lex. Be my own man. That's the way real relationships are. They're between equals. And--" He hesitated. "If you always think I'm up for grabs to the highest bidder, you'll never really trust me."

"I don't think that!" Lex said, vehemently. Clark gave him a doubting look. "I really don't."

"I'm still going to pay my own way," Clark said, resolutely.

Lex let out his breath. "If that's really what you want." If worse came to worse, he could find ways to help Clark without him realizing it, phantom scholarships, mysterious stipends, a "sweepstakes" he'd luckily win. Clark would have the life he deserved, no matter what.

"Don't," Clark said.

"What?"

Clark rested his hand on the curve of Lex's head, lightly rubbed his thumb in circles over his temple. "Whatever devious plans you're spinning to pay for stuff behind my back."

"I'm not."

"I know you. And we were going to be more straightforward with each other, remember?"

Lex sighed. "You're life doesn't have to be hard."

"But it does have to be mine," Clark said, with quiet conviction. He pulled Lex closer, one arm around his shoulder in a light embrace. "It'll be better this way. You'll see. It'll just be about us, not money or other people or anything else."

Lex wrapped his arms around Clark's waist and held on tightly. "Does this mean you're coming home?"

"Yes." He pulled back. "But if you ever cheat on me again, it's over."

Lex swallowed hard. "I understand."

He gently lifted Lex's injured wrist. "And if I ever do anything like this again, you have to walk away from me. Promise?"

"But you won't."

"No. I won't. But promise anyway."

"All right." His voice went soft. "I'm really am sorry I hurt you, Clark."

"I'm sorry I hurt you too, Lex."

***

Clark insisted on bringing the few pieces of rather beaten-up clothing he'd managed to acquire since he'd been gone back to the penthouse with him. They packed it into the Ferrari and headed off.

If Lex had expected the homecoming to be jubilant, to make everything right again, he was sadly disappointed. They didn't say much on the ride across town, and the silence only grew more pronounced as they rode the elevator up to the apartment. They carried Clark's things inside and stalled in the hallway between Lex's bedroom and the guest room in a moment of rather painful indecision.

"If you'd feel more comfortable--" he started to say.

At the same time, Clark volunteered, "If you want--"

They ended up leaving his stuff in the guest room, although frankly it was not what Lex wanted. Of course, he didn't expect Clark to feel like making love with him any time soon. But if he could just have him beside him in his bed again, it would be so much easier to believe things were ultimately going to work out okay between them.

Still, it was hardly unreasonable that Clark would want some distance, at least at the beginning. Lex was just lucky he'd agreed to come back at all. He could be patient. He could wait. Give Clark space or time or whatever he needed.

"Um. I have some studying to do," Clark said awkwardly. "I guess I'll get to it."

Lex smothered his disappointment. "Of course. I have some business to take care of. I'll--see you later."

He left Clark and headed to his study. There was, in fact, a mountain of work that had piled up while he was focused on finding Clark. Still, he would have happily ignored it to spend the time just sitting on the couch watching DVDs if that's what Clark had wanted. He sighed unhappily and dug into the stack of papers.

Lex warmed up a meal the cook had left in the refrigerator, and dinner was as quiet as the rest of the afternoon had been. They cleaned up the kitchen, and Clark went back to his room for more studying. Lex returned to his desk and tried to concentrate on work once more, but his attention kept drifting to the spare room, to Clark, to how fucked up things were between them. Finally, he just gave up and went to knock at the door.

"Yeah?"

He peeked his head inside. "I think I'm going to turn in now."

Clark glanced at the clock. "It's kind of early. Is everything okay?"

"Sure. I just-- I'm a little tired."

"Oh." Clark's expression was very serious. "Well, okay. I'll see you in the morning then."

"Goodnight."

"'Nite, Lex."

He plodded down the hall to his room, closed the door and took off his clothes. His arms and legs felt so heavy just changing seemed like a chore. He pulled on his pajama bottoms, slid into bed and lay there, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling.

He was too tired to really think, and there wasn't much new ground to cover anyway. He couldn't go back and undo anything, so it was useless desperately wishing that he could. Besides, it had turned out far better than he could have expected, certainly better than he deserved. Clark had at least come home. If there was a feeling in Lex's chest like he was being ripped open, then he'd just have to learn to live with it. After all, he'd earned it.

He had no idea how long he lay there. He didn't really want to know and didn't look at the clock. The room grew gradually darker, and he figured it must be late by now. He wasn't going to be able to sleep, and he just wished this night would be over. Maybe things would seem a little better in the morning.

The last thing he expected was for Clark to appear in his room. He hovered in the doorway, dressed in the pajamas he didn't usually wear.

"Lex?" he whispered. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah. Is everything okay?"

He took a few steps toward the bed. "Not really." His expression was a mystery in the dim light, but he sounded kind of lost. "Would it be all right if I sat down?"

Lex nodded. He felt like someone had him by the throat, squeezing hard. If Clark had come to tell him it wasn't going to work after all, he'd have to find some way to live with that. He just couldn't imagine how.

"I need you to be straight with me the way we promised. Okay?" Lex nodded, and Clark asked, "Do you really want me to stay in the guest room?"

He closed his eyes. "No."

"I don't want to stay there, either," he said, in a rush. "I just-- I didn't know what to do before. It felt weird, and I'm not used to that with us. And I didn't know what you wanted."

"I just thought you might need some space after everything that's happened."

"And I thought maybe you didn't want me close after what I--" His voice dropped. "Tried to do."

"I want you close, Clark. I'll always want that."

"Can I stay then?"

He wanted to scream for sheer, fucking, unbelievable joy, but he said simply, "Sure."

He scooted over, and Clark slipped under the covers.

"Is it all right if I touch you? I don't mean-- I just want to hold you."

Lex nodded, and Clark curved up against his back, one arm draped over his waist.

"I didn't think you'd want this anymore," he admitted.

"Aw, Lex." He snuggled closer, pressed a kiss to Lex's shoulder. "Don't you know how much I missed you?"

"I missed you too, Clark." His voice felt like it had been scraped raw. "So much."

"I'm sorry I left you here alone when you were hurt. But after what I'd done, I just had to-- I couldn't stay. I'm sorry." He gently brushed the bandage. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you didn't want me touching you anymore."

"Clark, I'm so fucking grateful you're here with me right now. You have no idea."

"Does your wrist hurt?"

He shook his head. "No, not really--"

Clark exhaled heavily against the back of his neck. "Lex."

He closed his eyes. "The doctor I told you I saw? He gave me pills for the pain, but there's this dull ache that never quite goes away."

"Is that why you can't sleep?"

"It's hard to sleep when you've fucked up the best thing you've ever had."

Clark held him tighter. "I know what you mean." He rested his cheek against Lex's shoulder. "Maybe it can't really be fucked up, though, if we don't let it?"

"I hope so. I don't want it to be."

"Me either." Clark's fingers drifted to the puckered scar on his side and stroked lightly, as if to soothe it away. "I didn't want to be like them. I wanted to be the one who never hurt you."

"Clark." He reached for Clark's hand, pressed it to his chest and held it there. "It's not the same. You've never hurt me when I didn't have it coming."

"Don't say that. Just because you do something I don't like doesn't give me the right to break your arm."

"It's not broken, remember?"

"You know what I mean." Soft lips brushed his scalp. "You don't deserve to be hurt. I don't want you thinking that you do. I do believe that you wouldn't have done this if it weren't for your father. That doesn't make it okay, but it does make a difference."

His throat clenched so tightly it was hard to speak. "Thank you."

"I forgive you, Lex. Just so you know. And I still love you." Tender kisses were feathered over his cheek. "And I always will."

"Clark." He'd started to shake, and it felt like he might never stop, like he might fly apart. His own words of love cut him inside they wanted out so desperately, but it felt as if he'd lost the right to say them, that he'd have to earn it back somehow. All he could do was clutch Clark's hand like a lifeline.

"Ssshh. It's okay." Soft kisses brushed the back of his neck. "I've got you, Lex."

***

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

mecurtin.livejournal.com

I sure hope you cried writing this, because I'm crying now.

Totally believable, let's all cry, OK? Oh, and kill Lionel.

From:

Not a homecoming queen

Love for Sale (aka Hooker!Clark), Part 13

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