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scribblinlenoreSo way, way back on July 16, a boring day at work (yes, I do have a lot of those!), I was in the mood to write smut. And I thought: Hooker!Clark! Yeah! And then it turned into this huge, long hookery epic. Go figure!
But finally, finally it's done! The last part of Love for Sale. Yippee!
Thanks to all you guys who hung in there, even though this took forever, and sent me all the pretty encouragement. It really did spur me on, and I appreciate it more than I can say.
For anyone who was waiting to read it until it was complete, if you want to wait a little longer, I do plan to clean up the whole thing, do some polishing and post it to the SSA.
To everybody who's been reading it all along, it's like you've all audienced it for me. I'm going back to get critical feedback from all the entries, but if you have some other comment or suggestion, email me at scribblinlenore@livejournal.com. I'm hoping to post the final version by next weekend.
Oh, and just one more thing... It's finally finished! Yahoo!
***
The blare of publicity over the shooting lasted exactly nine days. Nine days of reporters hounding him wherever he went, nine days of screaming front page headlines, nine days of people whispering behind his back. Then, on what would have been the tenth day, the star quarterback of the Sharks woke up after a night of blind-drunk partying to find a dead stripper in bed with him. That was the end of any interest in Lex.
He thought maybe he'd hear from Clark after the furor died down, if only to say he was glad it was over, if only to let him know he was okay. But the days turned into weeks and finally into months, and Clark never called.
Of course, this was the way it was supposed to be, Lex had to remind himself, the only safe thing, even if he hadn't expected Clark to accept it so easily. Although when he stopped to think about it, it wasn't that surprising Clark would be swept up in his old life, with his parents and friends and school and everything else seventeen year olds were supposed to care about. Maybe he was even glad Lex had let him go, grateful. It didn't matter that just the possibility of that cut Lex to the bone. All that was important was that Clark was safe, that giving him up had been for the best, a necessary sacrifice.
He managed to survive the holidays by working inhumanly long hours. The apartment felt too empty, so quiet it seemed to echo, and he avoided it as much as possible, really only there to sleep and change clothes. He steered clear of the usual social scene, too. All the holiday parties and charity events he might have attended would just have underscored Clark's absence. The few evenings he did leave work before the wee hours of the morning he spent in a comfortable chair at the Oak Room, sipping his 20-year-old Scotch, trying not to think about anything at all.
He was passing a quiet Wednesday night this way when he ran into Mitzi for the first time since Clark left.
The hostess was showing her to a table. When she spotted Lex, she made a detour. "Drinking alone?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
He gestured for her to join him and waved over the waiter who brought Mitzi her usual dry martini. "Now I'm drinking with you."
She smiled at him over the rim of her glass. "So I haven't seen much of you lately. Or Clark, for that matter."
He finished his Scotch and ordered another. "I'm sure you know that Clark is gone." He was not in the mood for games, especially about Clark.
"You do look as if you've lost your last friend in the world. So--" Her eyes fastened on him curiously. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing."
"That's hardly the fighting spirit."
He sighed. "Mitzi, Clark was a seventeen-year-old prostitute I picked up at a club and paid to be my companion. He's not coming back."
"Finally decided to call his parents, eh? I'm proud of you for doing the right thing. The reunion went well, I hope?"
He could only stare.
Mitzi shrugged. "Clark's a very earnest young man. He didn't want to be friends with me under false pretenses. Said it wouldn't be right. I, of course, was sworn to secrecy." Lex must have looked as surprised as he felt, because her voice turned sharp. "You're not the only one who could see that Clark was special."
He swallowed hard. "I know. I always appreciated that about you."
Her expression softened. "So why haven't you been in touch with him?"
"Clark's better off without me."
"That's not the impression I got when I spoke with him."
It was twice in one conversation that his jaw had dropped, and Mitzi looked rather pleased with herself. "What do you mean you spoke to him? When?"
"Yesterday. He called, ostensibly to apologize for not having said goodbye, but really to pump me for information about you."
"Was he all right? What did he say? He asked about me?"
Mitzi sighed impatiently. "Lex, do you honestly not realize how crazy in love with you that boy is? Did you think it would just fade away after a couple of months? That once he went to a few dances in the school gym and worked on a science project or two, he'd forget all about you?"
"I--" He looked away. Actually, that was exactly what he'd thought.
"Do you know how many times I've been married, Lex?"
"A few," Lex said politely.
Mitzi smiled. "Six, as I'm sure you're well aware. Some of them were spectacularly bad. Some started off well and then just kind of fizzled. And finally there's Edgar, who is perfectly serviceable."
"No doubt he'd be flattered to hear that."
"No doubt. My point is that people spend their whole lives looking for what you had, and they never find it. Speaking on behalf of all those unfortunates, don't be an idiot. You're a clever businessman with practically limitless resources. Surely you can figure out some way to look out for Clark's best interests without completely cutting yourself off from him?"
"I just want him to have a normal life," Lex said, betraying more desperation than he would have liked.
"What does that mean? Have you ever actually known anyone who had a normal life?" She leaned in, her expression very serious. "Look, I'm not saying that you should swoop down and lure him away from his parents. The boy deserves a chance to finish growing up. But be a little creative. Put that genius intellect to work. Come up with something, so you're not both completely miserable. And when Clark comes of age, he can make his own choices about where and how he wants to live, and the two of you can figure things out from there."
He stared at her. "Why do you care so much?"
"To be honest, I'm not even sure. I suppose it's because it's so rare to see two people so clearly meant for each other." She smiled. "I guess I'm more of a romantic than I would have guessed." She finished her drink and stood up. "Well, I've kept Edgar waiting long enough." She nodded. "Lex."
"Mitzi."
***
It wasn't, in the end, that difficult to put Mitzi's advice into action and come up with a plan to be closer to Clark. All he really needed was a pretext to spend time in Smallville, and as luck had it, his father owned a manure plant and a house there. His father also owed him a sizeable settlement to keep his adventures in industrial espionage out of the courts and off the front pages. Lionel was more than happy to hand over a failing factory and a country house he never used to lighten the cash payout.
Lex headed out to Smallville to inspect his investment and, more importantly, to see Clark. He had not been back since the day of the meteors and was determined not to let it bother him. He was doing fine--fine, he told himself--all the way down Highway 12. So he had the CD player turned up deafeningly loud and was speeding along like someone racing at Le Mans. It didn't mean he was on edge. That was just how he liked to drive.
When he got to the first cornfield, though, it became harder to pretend. He was flooded with sense memories from that day, the way the soft ground shifted beneath his feet as he ran, cornstalks lashing his face, the stink of fertilizer rising up from the dirt making him wheeze, the inferno he couldn't outrun no matter how hard he pushed his shaking legs, the impossible heat on his skin, stench of his own burning hair choking him as he lost consciousness.
A fine sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. There was a service station up ahead, and he pulled in, went around to the bathroom, locked the door and threw cold water on his face. His father had taught him a few things that he still believed. One of them was that you had to face your demons eventually.
He pumped gas and went inside to pay. "How far is it to the turn off for the LuthorCorp factory?" he asked.
The man behind the counter was dressed in a flannel shirt and a John Deere cap, chewing what Lex feared was tobacco. He looked Lex up and down, glanced out the window at the Ferrari with the "Lex1" license plate, handed him back his credit card and receipt, but didn't answer his question.
"Thank you," Lex said, dryly. "You've been helpful." Thanks to his father, apparently all Luthors were persona non grata in this county.
Fortunately, a little further down the road there was a large sign pointing the way to the factory. Unfortunately, when he got there, he understood his father's sly smile when he'd demanded it as part of their deal.
He was met by the plant manager, a man named Gabe Sullivan. He shook Lex's hand rather nervously. "I'd be happy to show you around, Mr. Luthor, if you'd like?"
"Call me Lex. And, yes, I would like that."
The factory was in even worse shape than he'd feared. The physical structure had not been properly maintained. Production was hampered by outdated equipment and inefficient processes. As he introduced himself to his new employees, they nodded civilly, but there was a look in their eyes that he recognized too well, the effect his father always had on his workers. They were scared shitless. LuthorCorp was the major employer in town, and these people had husbands and wives, children, mortgages. They couldn't afford to lose their jobs. No doubt, they thought this takeover meant the worst for them.
Lex hoped to show them differently, but when he took a look at the books he wasn't quite so optimistic. He closed his eyes and imagined his father having yet another laugh at his expense.
"I know it looks pretty bad." Gabe shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I worked up some ideas for how we could improve things, but your father never seemed very interested--"
"Have your proposal on my desk tomorrow morning."
Gabe blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I'm not my father, and I am interested in making this place profitable. So let's go over your plans first thing tomorrow and see what we've got. I just have-- There's something else, something important, I need to do right now."
"Absolutely, Mr. Luthor." His face brightened considerably. "I'll have it waiting for you."
"Good. And Gabe?"
"Yes?"
"Mr. Luthor is my father. Call me Lex. Okay?"
Gabe's eyes twinkled. "Sure thing, Lex."
Back in the car, he let out his breath. That hadn't gone as badly as it might have. The place was a mess, but he had a feeling Gabe Sullivan was something of a hidden gem. Hopefully, they could start to turn things around.
Gabe had given him directions to the Kent house. He turned down their lane, and a yellow farmhouse came into sight. He had to shut his eyes and open them again, because it was like staring into a Normal Rockwell painting and for a moment, he thought it had to be a mirage. How could anything look so much like the all-American dream of what home was supposed to be?
He parked, walked up on the white-railed porch and knocked.
The red-haired woman from the park, Clark's mother, answered the door. "Yes?" She smiled politely. "Can I help you?"
"I hope so," he said. "I was wondering if your son was at home. I, uh-- We knew each other in Metropolis."
Her face clouded with suspicion, and he felt a flash of panic that maybe she wouldn't let him see Clark at all. "Lex Luthor," she said. "I recognize you from the paper. I hear you've taken over the plant."
"News travels fast."
"It's a small town, Mr. Luthor."
"Lex. Please."
She gave him a long, appraising look before pushing the screen door open. "Would you like to come in for coffee? Then maybe we can see whether Clark is home."
He nodded, understanding perfectly well. If he wanted to see Clark, he was going to have to get past her. "Thank you, Mrs. Kent. That would be nice." He followed her into the kitchen and took a place at the table when she invited him to sit down.
"Milk and sugar?" she asked, pouring his coffee.
"Just black, please."
She handed him a mug and sat down across from him. "So what made you decide to take over the plant from your father?"
Mrs. Kent had an open, kind face, hospitable even in her wariness, but her blue eyes were piercing, filled with intelligence, missing nothing. He felt heat in his face and hoped to God he hadn't chosen this of all moments to take up blushing.
"Well, I--" Was he actually stuttering? "It was a good opportunity, a way to diversify LexCorp's holdings."
"With a manure factory?" She smiled skeptically.
Now he was quite sure his face was red. "We are an agro-business company. And manure is a basic part of agriculture," he said, weakly.
"Ah." She took a sip of her coffee, her expression thoughtful. "I assume you have no children, Lex? You're too young."
"No, ma'am. I don't."
"I know it sounds clichéd, but it really is true that until you have children of your own you can't imagine what it's like. How your child is a part of you, in this very profound way. Say there was a picture in a newspaper, for instance, blurry and out of focus, only the back of your son's head, from a distance, but still, your son. You'd know it was him, instantly, without question. Because he's your child." Her gaze bored into him. "Do you understand what I mean?"
"I think I do." He met her gaze openly. "Would you also be able to see if he was happy and well taken care of and loved?"
She didn't answer, just studied him, and it felt like being under a spotlight. It took every bit of discipline he had not to squirm. She was a formidable woman, no matter how mild she might seem.
"You know, we had an unexpected windfall recently," she finally said. "Someone paid off our farm and sent us the deed anonymously. I don't suppose you know anything about that?"
He looked away. "How would I?"
"It was another anonymous benefactor who arranged for us to meet Clark, to talk, sort things out. If it weren't for that person, I doubt Clark would have agreed to come home. So I'd like to think that was someone who cared enough about my son to do what was best for him."
"I can't imagine anyone not wanting the best for Clark," he said, quietly.
She sat still for a moment, staring into the distance, then she got up and took her coffee cup to the sink. "Clark's out in the barn."
He swallowed hard. "Thank you, Mrs. Kent."
The walk out to the barn was not long, but he was too eager and it felt like an eternity. Inside, he found Clark cleaning out a stall, and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. Clark looked younger dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt than he had in club clothes or the urban couture Lex had bought him, but also more elemental, pure boy, pure Clark, in all his heartbreaking beauty.
All the longing that Lex had barely been holding back hit him then, hard, and he couldn't stop his voice from shaking. "Clark."
He started and turned around. There was a flash of surprised happiness, but then his expression quickly froze over. "What are you doing here?"
Lex had to wonder if Mitzi had somehow gotten it wrong, and he found himself taking the coward's way out. "I had business in the area. I don't know if you heard, but I took over the Smallville plant from my father."
"I heard."
"Also, my family has a house here. I thought it would be a good opportunity to check in on the place," he said feebly.
Clark gave him a hard look. "What do you really want, Lex?"
He tried to force down the painful lump in his throat, but it wouldn't budge. "I just wanted to see you. I thought maybe we could talk."
Clark's eyes flashed. "I got the message loud and clear that day in the park. There's nothing to talk about."
"Clark, you have to understand--"
"Oh, I understand all right." An angry flush spread across his cheeks. "You said it didn't matter, but it did. And now I'm back here, just the way you engineered it. So I wish you'd just get out and leave me alone."
Lex frowned, confused. "What are talking about? What mattered?"
"That I'm not--" He stopped, painfully.
"Oh, Clark. Clark. That wasn't why--"
"Don't lie to me!" He met Lex's gaze with a hot spark of fury. "You sent me away the day after you found out. You think I can't put two and two together?"
"I called your parents because I needed you to be safe, and you wouldn't have been in Metropolis, not with all the publicity surrounding the shooting."
"If that was true, then why didn't you just tell me? Why did you have to go behind my back and make decisions that weren't yours to make?"
"Because Phelan knew about you. Because I didn't know who else he might have told. Because it was all my fault, and I damn well wasn't going to let something horrible happen to you because of me."
Clark frowned. "What do you mean it was your fault?"
Lex balled his hands into fists. True confession time, and he always hated that. "I hired Phelan to investigate you when we first got together."
Clark's eyes widened. "What?" And then his expression turned hard. "Didn't trust the hooker, huh? What were you afraid of? That I'd clean out your bank accounts and make a run for the border?"
"Clark, I didn't trust anyone back then. But that wasn't why I hired Phelan, not really."
"No? Then why?"
He took a deep breath. "I just-- I wanted to know you."
Clark's mouth twisted into a bitter line. "Well, that's a hell of a way to do it."
"You wouldn't tell me anything!" He stopped and collected himself. "Look, I'm not saying that what I did was right. It wasn't. But it was before-- Before we got close. And it was really only because--"
"What?"
"You fascinated me, and I wanted you so much. And I thought you were special, from the first moment I saw you, and I wanted to understand who you were. And I'm just screwed up enough to think I could speed that along with a private investigator instead of just letting it happen naturally."
Clark's expression was still wary, but his tone relented a little. "Phelan told you about me?"
"Not at first. Not until that night when he came to--" He couldn't make himself say it. "I'd already realized you had unusual abilities. I just didn't know why."
"And you weren't freaked out?" Clark watched closely for his reaction.
"I don't care where you're from. I'm just glad you're here."
"You still should have discussed it with me. Not just called my parents to come get me like I'm some three-year-old."
"You wouldn't have gone. I know you."
"Maybe not, but that would have been my decision to make."
"And it would have been the wrong one."
Clark glared at him. "Do you have any idea how fucking arrogant that is?"
"Phelan was going to sell you, Clark, to the highest bidder, so they could do God knows what to you." Clark paled, and Lex regretted having to put it so brutally, but Clark needed to hear the truth, needed to understand the danger. "He knew your weakness, knew how to control you. I couldn't take any chances." He let out his breath. "I know you think I should be sorry for what I did, but I'm not. I'd die before I let anything happen to you."
Long moments of silence passed, and then Clark said in a softer voice, "So why are you really here, Lex?"
"There's only one reason I'd ever come back to this place, why I'm the proud new owner of a crap factory in the middle of nowhere."
Clark took a step closer. "Which is?"
Lex reached for him. "Don't you know?"
Four months was not an eternity, certainly not so long that he'd forgotten how it felt to kiss Clark. But the first touch of their mouths was still a surprise of pleasure, how soft Clark's lips were, how warm, the way Clark sighed as he deepened the kiss, how sweet he tasted, like nothing else had ever been sweet. They kissed until Lex's lips tingled from it, and then he hugged Clark to him, pressed his face against his neck and just held on, like someone who'd been pulled back from the brink of a very bleak and lonely future.
Clark whispered against his shoulder, "I missed you so much."
Lex tightened his arms around him. "God. I missed you, too."
He didn't know how long they stood there like that. Forever probably wouldn't have been long enough. Finally, though, the thought of Clark's parents made him let go, although he couldn't bring himself to actually take a step back. Clark had seemed so irretrievably lost to him, as if Smallville was a distant continent and not the next county over, and now that Lex had him back again, he needed to stick close.
"I didn't know you'd been to Smallville before. I thought nobody in your family ever stayed at the mansion."
"They don't, really. I was only here once with my father. It was a long time ago." He wished he hadn't brought up the past. He wanted so much to sound casual, but there were some things you just couldn't talk about as if they meant nothing.
Clark knew him too well not to hear the catch in his voice. He frowned. "When exactly were you here, Lex?"
"It doesn't matter."
Clark stared at him and then his expression jolted with realization. "Oh, God." He stroked a gentle hand over Lex's bare head and looked so sad. "I'm sorry."
He took Clark's hand and kissed it. "Don't. You're not responsible."
"But that was me. I came down in that storm."
"So? That doesn't mean you caused it."
"I'm still sorry you were hurt," Clark said softly.
Lex rested his forehead against Clark's. "And I'm sorry you thought I was sending you away because you're-- not from around here. It was never that. I swear."
Clark wrapped his arms around him. "So you really bought a crap factory just because of me?" Lex felt his smile against his cheek.
"Technically, I didn't buy it. But, yes, the fact that it's conveniently located in your hometown was the primary--okay, the only--inducement to acquire it."
"Does this mean you'll be sticking around then?" Clark shot him a hopeful look.
Lex touched his face, stroked his thumb along his cheek. "I think things here may need my personal attention."
Clark's smile was wide and pleased. "Come on." He took Lex's hand. "There's something I want to show you."
He led Lex up a set of rough-hewn stairs to the loft, which had been lovingly transformed into a refuge for him. There was a couch, a table, a stack of books, a telescope set up at the far end, pointed toward the sky, as if Clark were scanning the stars, looking for some evidence of where he'd come from. The idea of it made Lex's throat close up a little painfully.
"My father calls it my Fortress of Solitude," Clark said. "Kind of dorky, huh?"
"I think your father sounds like a smart man. Everyone needs somewhere they can be alone."
"That's true." The room spun, and Lex somehow ended up on his back on the sofa, with Clark stretched out over him. "Especially for things like this." Clark kissed him, more frenzied than before, more determined.
Every ounce of reason Lex had screamed at him that this was a bad idea. If Clark's parents caught them, they might forbid him to see Clark altogether. Lex's cock, on the other hand, surged painfully against his zipper, only caring that Clark was close and touching him and there was the happy prospect of being naked with him in the near future.
Lex did his best to ignore his cock. "What--" he said, between mouthfuls of Clark's tongue. "Are you doing?"
"Mmm." Clark pressed his face against Lex's neck, breathing him in. "I'm taking care of something that needs my personal attention." He rubbed his thigh against Lex's hard-on.
"God," Lex groaned. "Stop. We shouldn't be doing this here."
Clark pulled off his shirt and flung it to the floor. "You made the decision to send me home to Smallville. So I'm making this decision. It's only fair." He undid the buttons of Lex's shirt, pushing the fabric out of the way, stringing kisses over Lex's chest.
"Clark, your mother already seems kind of iffy about me. If she sees us--"
Clark grinned. "Hey, wait until you meet my father. He's got kind of this grudge against your family, and he owns a shotgun."
"Clark!" He tried to sit up.
Clark bit playfully at his nipple, making him moan. "I'm just kidding." He pushed Lex back down. "Okay, not about the gun or the grudge. But my father's in Grandville today picking up tractor parts. And, anyway, I'd protect you."
He brushed his fingers along Lex's bare sides, rimmed his belly button with his tongue, making Lex shudder.
"You're trying to kill me."
Clark smiled and continued his trip down Lex's belly, kissing and licking and blowing tantalizing little puffs of warm air over Lex's sensitive skin, making him so desperately hard his eyes started to water. When Clark finally pushed down his zipper and released his straining erection, he sighed in relief. Then Clark bent his head, and Lex's entire body coiled with need, heat everywhere, surrounding his cock, burning in the pit of his stomach, spreading over his skin.
"God!"
Clark pulled off his cock long enough to shush him.
"Easy for you to say," he hissed, as Clark began to trace patterns with his tongue on the underside of his cock.
He let Lex's erection slide from his mouth, and Lex had to dig his fingernails into his palms to keep from making loud disappointed noises.
Clark rubbed his head against Lex's belly. "At least you've been in Metropolis where there are actual gay people. I've been here."
"Clark." He stroked his hair. "I haven't been with anybody since you left. I don't want anyone else."
Clark lifted his head, startled, and then heat flared in his eyes. He braced himself on his arms and leaned over and kissed wildly until Lex's lungs burned and the blood pounded in his ears.
"I love you," Clark whispered against his lips.
Lex smiled, the desperate clench he'd felt in his chest since he'd let Clark go finally relaxing. "I love you, too."
Clark fumbled with his own fly and pushed his pants and underwear down over hips. Lex spread his legs, and Clark settled between them. They kissed and murmured tender nonsense and rocked their bodies together, too greedy for one another to make it last long. Lex gripped Clark's shoulders, and Clark called his name, and they both came, tangled messily around one another.
Clark reached over to the nearby table for tissues and cleaned them both up. They straightened their clothes, but Clark didn't get up, wouldn't let Lex up, either. He rested his head on Lex's chest, and it was so quiet and everything smelled warm and clean and like Clark, and Lex was pretty certain he'd never been happier in his whole life.
"I've been lonely without you," Clark said in a quiet voice.
Lex pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Haven't things been okay at home?"
Clark fiddled with the button on Lex's shirt. "I guess you could say it's been complicated."
"You want to tell me?"
"Well-- Mom says she doesn't blame me for what happened with the baby, but sometimes-- And then, my dad is always trying too hard, which really isn't helping. People at school think I'm even weirder than they did before. And most of my friends are still mad at me."
Lex stroked his fingers along Clark's forearm. "I'm sorry. It sounds like it's been a hard adjustment."
"I knew it would be. You can't expect to go away like I did and come home and have everything be the same. I'm not the same. Why should anything else be? But that's really the worst part of all. I can't tell anyone about Metropolis, because they wouldn't understand. And that feels like I'm pretending it never happened. But it did, and it changed me. And-- That's why it would just be so much better if you were here. So I'd have somebody who really knows me."
Lex tightened his arms around him. That he was the one person Clark trusted to understand didn't just make his day, it made his entire life. "We'll just have to be careful."
"Seventeen is legal in Kansas. And I'll be eighteen soon, anyway."
"I wasn't thinking of me, Clark. It's not easy being out in a community that's not very gay-friendly. Not to mention that there's little love lost around here for anyone with my last name. You don't need to be known all over town as Lex Luthor's boyfriend. So let's try to keep it discreet, okay?"
Clark propped himself up on his elbow and studied him. "How do you feel about organic produce?"
"Um. I'm not against it?"
He grinned. "Good. Because I make deliveries on Wednesdays and Fridays. It's a good excuse for me to come see you. So you'll need to order a lot of artichokes." He bent his head for a kiss. "Thank you for saving the farm, by the way. It would have broken my parents' hearts to lose it."
Lex ran his fingertips lightly along Clark's jaw. "I didn't do it for them."
Clark's eyes filled with warmth, and he leaned in for more kisses. The spark of longing between them reignited, press of bodies, mingled breath, clutching fingers, rough panting as they moved against one another, trying desperately to get closer, as if they wanted to crawl inside each other's skin.
"Clark!" Mrs. Kent's voice rang out.
They broke apart like a shot.
"Yeah, Mom?" he called back down to her, nervously pulling at the hem of his shirt, trying to pull it down over his erection.
"It's dinnertime."
"Okay. I'll be there in a few minutes."
Lex scrubbed his hands over his face, his heart pounding. He couldn't remember the last time someone's mother had almost caught him in the act. "Okay, so from now on we only do this at my house." He stood up and tried to smooth the wrinkles from his pants.
"I've always been curious to see the inside of the mansion." Clark took his hand and led him back downstairs.
"Won't people think it's strange, though? If you and I are suddenly the best of friends, an interloping businessman and a high school student?"
"We just need a believable story. Like you drove your car off a bridge or something, and I rescued you."
"That's believable?"
"You'd be surprised." Clark walked him outside.
"So what are you going to tell your parents?"
Clark shook his head. "I really don't know yet."
"I'm pretty sure your mother already knows."
"Yeah, there's not much I can hide from her. She is my mother."
He touched Clark's arm, worried. "I don't want this to come between you and your family."
"It won't. My parents want me to be happy." He rested his hand on the back on Lex's neck, thumb moving in lazy circles. "And I'm so glad you're here I can't even tell you."
He smiled. "Me, too." He cast a glance around. There were cows watching them from the other side of the fence, chickens clucking around the barn, a silo in the distance. It made his Ferrari look like something from another planet. "So, this is Smallville, huh?"
Clark grinned. "This is it."
Lex gathered Clark's beautiful face in his hands and looked into his eyes, just like a promise. "I already feel at home."
***
You can read the previous parts here:
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15
But finally, finally it's done! The last part of Love for Sale. Yippee!
Thanks to all you guys who hung in there, even though this took forever, and sent me all the pretty encouragement. It really did spur me on, and I appreciate it more than I can say.
For anyone who was waiting to read it until it was complete, if you want to wait a little longer, I do plan to clean up the whole thing, do some polishing and post it to the SSA.
To everybody who's been reading it all along, it's like you've all audienced it for me. I'm going back to get critical feedback from all the entries, but if you have some other comment or suggestion, email me at scribblinlenore@livejournal.com. I'm hoping to post the final version by next weekend.
Oh, and just one more thing... It's finally finished! Yahoo!
***
The blare of publicity over the shooting lasted exactly nine days. Nine days of reporters hounding him wherever he went, nine days of screaming front page headlines, nine days of people whispering behind his back. Then, on what would have been the tenth day, the star quarterback of the Sharks woke up after a night of blind-drunk partying to find a dead stripper in bed with him. That was the end of any interest in Lex.
He thought maybe he'd hear from Clark after the furor died down, if only to say he was glad it was over, if only to let him know he was okay. But the days turned into weeks and finally into months, and Clark never called.
Of course, this was the way it was supposed to be, Lex had to remind himself, the only safe thing, even if he hadn't expected Clark to accept it so easily. Although when he stopped to think about it, it wasn't that surprising Clark would be swept up in his old life, with his parents and friends and school and everything else seventeen year olds were supposed to care about. Maybe he was even glad Lex had let him go, grateful. It didn't matter that just the possibility of that cut Lex to the bone. All that was important was that Clark was safe, that giving him up had been for the best, a necessary sacrifice.
He managed to survive the holidays by working inhumanly long hours. The apartment felt too empty, so quiet it seemed to echo, and he avoided it as much as possible, really only there to sleep and change clothes. He steered clear of the usual social scene, too. All the holiday parties and charity events he might have attended would just have underscored Clark's absence. The few evenings he did leave work before the wee hours of the morning he spent in a comfortable chair at the Oak Room, sipping his 20-year-old Scotch, trying not to think about anything at all.
He was passing a quiet Wednesday night this way when he ran into Mitzi for the first time since Clark left.
The hostess was showing her to a table. When she spotted Lex, she made a detour. "Drinking alone?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
He gestured for her to join him and waved over the waiter who brought Mitzi her usual dry martini. "Now I'm drinking with you."
She smiled at him over the rim of her glass. "So I haven't seen much of you lately. Or Clark, for that matter."
He finished his Scotch and ordered another. "I'm sure you know that Clark is gone." He was not in the mood for games, especially about Clark.
"You do look as if you've lost your last friend in the world. So--" Her eyes fastened on him curiously. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing."
"That's hardly the fighting spirit."
He sighed. "Mitzi, Clark was a seventeen-year-old prostitute I picked up at a club and paid to be my companion. He's not coming back."
"Finally decided to call his parents, eh? I'm proud of you for doing the right thing. The reunion went well, I hope?"
He could only stare.
Mitzi shrugged. "Clark's a very earnest young man. He didn't want to be friends with me under false pretenses. Said it wouldn't be right. I, of course, was sworn to secrecy." Lex must have looked as surprised as he felt, because her voice turned sharp. "You're not the only one who could see that Clark was special."
He swallowed hard. "I know. I always appreciated that about you."
Her expression softened. "So why haven't you been in touch with him?"
"Clark's better off without me."
"That's not the impression I got when I spoke with him."
It was twice in one conversation that his jaw had dropped, and Mitzi looked rather pleased with herself. "What do you mean you spoke to him? When?"
"Yesterday. He called, ostensibly to apologize for not having said goodbye, but really to pump me for information about you."
"Was he all right? What did he say? He asked about me?"
Mitzi sighed impatiently. "Lex, do you honestly not realize how crazy in love with you that boy is? Did you think it would just fade away after a couple of months? That once he went to a few dances in the school gym and worked on a science project or two, he'd forget all about you?"
"I--" He looked away. Actually, that was exactly what he'd thought.
"Do you know how many times I've been married, Lex?"
"A few," Lex said politely.
Mitzi smiled. "Six, as I'm sure you're well aware. Some of them were spectacularly bad. Some started off well and then just kind of fizzled. And finally there's Edgar, who is perfectly serviceable."
"No doubt he'd be flattered to hear that."
"No doubt. My point is that people spend their whole lives looking for what you had, and they never find it. Speaking on behalf of all those unfortunates, don't be an idiot. You're a clever businessman with practically limitless resources. Surely you can figure out some way to look out for Clark's best interests without completely cutting yourself off from him?"
"I just want him to have a normal life," Lex said, betraying more desperation than he would have liked.
"What does that mean? Have you ever actually known anyone who had a normal life?" She leaned in, her expression very serious. "Look, I'm not saying that you should swoop down and lure him away from his parents. The boy deserves a chance to finish growing up. But be a little creative. Put that genius intellect to work. Come up with something, so you're not both completely miserable. And when Clark comes of age, he can make his own choices about where and how he wants to live, and the two of you can figure things out from there."
He stared at her. "Why do you care so much?"
"To be honest, I'm not even sure. I suppose it's because it's so rare to see two people so clearly meant for each other." She smiled. "I guess I'm more of a romantic than I would have guessed." She finished her drink and stood up. "Well, I've kept Edgar waiting long enough." She nodded. "Lex."
"Mitzi."
***
It wasn't, in the end, that difficult to put Mitzi's advice into action and come up with a plan to be closer to Clark. All he really needed was a pretext to spend time in Smallville, and as luck had it, his father owned a manure plant and a house there. His father also owed him a sizeable settlement to keep his adventures in industrial espionage out of the courts and off the front pages. Lionel was more than happy to hand over a failing factory and a country house he never used to lighten the cash payout.
Lex headed out to Smallville to inspect his investment and, more importantly, to see Clark. He had not been back since the day of the meteors and was determined not to let it bother him. He was doing fine--fine, he told himself--all the way down Highway 12. So he had the CD player turned up deafeningly loud and was speeding along like someone racing at Le Mans. It didn't mean he was on edge. That was just how he liked to drive.
When he got to the first cornfield, though, it became harder to pretend. He was flooded with sense memories from that day, the way the soft ground shifted beneath his feet as he ran, cornstalks lashing his face, the stink of fertilizer rising up from the dirt making him wheeze, the inferno he couldn't outrun no matter how hard he pushed his shaking legs, the impossible heat on his skin, stench of his own burning hair choking him as he lost consciousness.
A fine sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. There was a service station up ahead, and he pulled in, went around to the bathroom, locked the door and threw cold water on his face. His father had taught him a few things that he still believed. One of them was that you had to face your demons eventually.
He pumped gas and went inside to pay. "How far is it to the turn off for the LuthorCorp factory?" he asked.
The man behind the counter was dressed in a flannel shirt and a John Deere cap, chewing what Lex feared was tobacco. He looked Lex up and down, glanced out the window at the Ferrari with the "Lex1" license plate, handed him back his credit card and receipt, but didn't answer his question.
"Thank you," Lex said, dryly. "You've been helpful." Thanks to his father, apparently all Luthors were persona non grata in this county.
Fortunately, a little further down the road there was a large sign pointing the way to the factory. Unfortunately, when he got there, he understood his father's sly smile when he'd demanded it as part of their deal.
He was met by the plant manager, a man named Gabe Sullivan. He shook Lex's hand rather nervously. "I'd be happy to show you around, Mr. Luthor, if you'd like?"
"Call me Lex. And, yes, I would like that."
The factory was in even worse shape than he'd feared. The physical structure had not been properly maintained. Production was hampered by outdated equipment and inefficient processes. As he introduced himself to his new employees, they nodded civilly, but there was a look in their eyes that he recognized too well, the effect his father always had on his workers. They were scared shitless. LuthorCorp was the major employer in town, and these people had husbands and wives, children, mortgages. They couldn't afford to lose their jobs. No doubt, they thought this takeover meant the worst for them.
Lex hoped to show them differently, but when he took a look at the books he wasn't quite so optimistic. He closed his eyes and imagined his father having yet another laugh at his expense.
"I know it looks pretty bad." Gabe shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I worked up some ideas for how we could improve things, but your father never seemed very interested--"
"Have your proposal on my desk tomorrow morning."
Gabe blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I'm not my father, and I am interested in making this place profitable. So let's go over your plans first thing tomorrow and see what we've got. I just have-- There's something else, something important, I need to do right now."
"Absolutely, Mr. Luthor." His face brightened considerably. "I'll have it waiting for you."
"Good. And Gabe?"
"Yes?"
"Mr. Luthor is my father. Call me Lex. Okay?"
Gabe's eyes twinkled. "Sure thing, Lex."
Back in the car, he let out his breath. That hadn't gone as badly as it might have. The place was a mess, but he had a feeling Gabe Sullivan was something of a hidden gem. Hopefully, they could start to turn things around.
Gabe had given him directions to the Kent house. He turned down their lane, and a yellow farmhouse came into sight. He had to shut his eyes and open them again, because it was like staring into a Normal Rockwell painting and for a moment, he thought it had to be a mirage. How could anything look so much like the all-American dream of what home was supposed to be?
He parked, walked up on the white-railed porch and knocked.
The red-haired woman from the park, Clark's mother, answered the door. "Yes?" She smiled politely. "Can I help you?"
"I hope so," he said. "I was wondering if your son was at home. I, uh-- We knew each other in Metropolis."
Her face clouded with suspicion, and he felt a flash of panic that maybe she wouldn't let him see Clark at all. "Lex Luthor," she said. "I recognize you from the paper. I hear you've taken over the plant."
"News travels fast."
"It's a small town, Mr. Luthor."
"Lex. Please."
She gave him a long, appraising look before pushing the screen door open. "Would you like to come in for coffee? Then maybe we can see whether Clark is home."
He nodded, understanding perfectly well. If he wanted to see Clark, he was going to have to get past her. "Thank you, Mrs. Kent. That would be nice." He followed her into the kitchen and took a place at the table when she invited him to sit down.
"Milk and sugar?" she asked, pouring his coffee.
"Just black, please."
She handed him a mug and sat down across from him. "So what made you decide to take over the plant from your father?"
Mrs. Kent had an open, kind face, hospitable even in her wariness, but her blue eyes were piercing, filled with intelligence, missing nothing. He felt heat in his face and hoped to God he hadn't chosen this of all moments to take up blushing.
"Well, I--" Was he actually stuttering? "It was a good opportunity, a way to diversify LexCorp's holdings."
"With a manure factory?" She smiled skeptically.
Now he was quite sure his face was red. "We are an agro-business company. And manure is a basic part of agriculture," he said, weakly.
"Ah." She took a sip of her coffee, her expression thoughtful. "I assume you have no children, Lex? You're too young."
"No, ma'am. I don't."
"I know it sounds clichéd, but it really is true that until you have children of your own you can't imagine what it's like. How your child is a part of you, in this very profound way. Say there was a picture in a newspaper, for instance, blurry and out of focus, only the back of your son's head, from a distance, but still, your son. You'd know it was him, instantly, without question. Because he's your child." Her gaze bored into him. "Do you understand what I mean?"
"I think I do." He met her gaze openly. "Would you also be able to see if he was happy and well taken care of and loved?"
She didn't answer, just studied him, and it felt like being under a spotlight. It took every bit of discipline he had not to squirm. She was a formidable woman, no matter how mild she might seem.
"You know, we had an unexpected windfall recently," she finally said. "Someone paid off our farm and sent us the deed anonymously. I don't suppose you know anything about that?"
He looked away. "How would I?"
"It was another anonymous benefactor who arranged for us to meet Clark, to talk, sort things out. If it weren't for that person, I doubt Clark would have agreed to come home. So I'd like to think that was someone who cared enough about my son to do what was best for him."
"I can't imagine anyone not wanting the best for Clark," he said, quietly.
She sat still for a moment, staring into the distance, then she got up and took her coffee cup to the sink. "Clark's out in the barn."
He swallowed hard. "Thank you, Mrs. Kent."
The walk out to the barn was not long, but he was too eager and it felt like an eternity. Inside, he found Clark cleaning out a stall, and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. Clark looked younger dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt than he had in club clothes or the urban couture Lex had bought him, but also more elemental, pure boy, pure Clark, in all his heartbreaking beauty.
All the longing that Lex had barely been holding back hit him then, hard, and he couldn't stop his voice from shaking. "Clark."
He started and turned around. There was a flash of surprised happiness, but then his expression quickly froze over. "What are you doing here?"
Lex had to wonder if Mitzi had somehow gotten it wrong, and he found himself taking the coward's way out. "I had business in the area. I don't know if you heard, but I took over the Smallville plant from my father."
"I heard."
"Also, my family has a house here. I thought it would be a good opportunity to check in on the place," he said feebly.
Clark gave him a hard look. "What do you really want, Lex?"
He tried to force down the painful lump in his throat, but it wouldn't budge. "I just wanted to see you. I thought maybe we could talk."
Clark's eyes flashed. "I got the message loud and clear that day in the park. There's nothing to talk about."
"Clark, you have to understand--"
"Oh, I understand all right." An angry flush spread across his cheeks. "You said it didn't matter, but it did. And now I'm back here, just the way you engineered it. So I wish you'd just get out and leave me alone."
Lex frowned, confused. "What are talking about? What mattered?"
"That I'm not--" He stopped, painfully.
"Oh, Clark. Clark. That wasn't why--"
"Don't lie to me!" He met Lex's gaze with a hot spark of fury. "You sent me away the day after you found out. You think I can't put two and two together?"
"I called your parents because I needed you to be safe, and you wouldn't have been in Metropolis, not with all the publicity surrounding the shooting."
"If that was true, then why didn't you just tell me? Why did you have to go behind my back and make decisions that weren't yours to make?"
"Because Phelan knew about you. Because I didn't know who else he might have told. Because it was all my fault, and I damn well wasn't going to let something horrible happen to you because of me."
Clark frowned. "What do you mean it was your fault?"
Lex balled his hands into fists. True confession time, and he always hated that. "I hired Phelan to investigate you when we first got together."
Clark's eyes widened. "What?" And then his expression turned hard. "Didn't trust the hooker, huh? What were you afraid of? That I'd clean out your bank accounts and make a run for the border?"
"Clark, I didn't trust anyone back then. But that wasn't why I hired Phelan, not really."
"No? Then why?"
He took a deep breath. "I just-- I wanted to know you."
Clark's mouth twisted into a bitter line. "Well, that's a hell of a way to do it."
"You wouldn't tell me anything!" He stopped and collected himself. "Look, I'm not saying that what I did was right. It wasn't. But it was before-- Before we got close. And it was really only because--"
"What?"
"You fascinated me, and I wanted you so much. And I thought you were special, from the first moment I saw you, and I wanted to understand who you were. And I'm just screwed up enough to think I could speed that along with a private investigator instead of just letting it happen naturally."
Clark's expression was still wary, but his tone relented a little. "Phelan told you about me?"
"Not at first. Not until that night when he came to--" He couldn't make himself say it. "I'd already realized you had unusual abilities. I just didn't know why."
"And you weren't freaked out?" Clark watched closely for his reaction.
"I don't care where you're from. I'm just glad you're here."
"You still should have discussed it with me. Not just called my parents to come get me like I'm some three-year-old."
"You wouldn't have gone. I know you."
"Maybe not, but that would have been my decision to make."
"And it would have been the wrong one."
Clark glared at him. "Do you have any idea how fucking arrogant that is?"
"Phelan was going to sell you, Clark, to the highest bidder, so they could do God knows what to you." Clark paled, and Lex regretted having to put it so brutally, but Clark needed to hear the truth, needed to understand the danger. "He knew your weakness, knew how to control you. I couldn't take any chances." He let out his breath. "I know you think I should be sorry for what I did, but I'm not. I'd die before I let anything happen to you."
Long moments of silence passed, and then Clark said in a softer voice, "So why are you really here, Lex?"
"There's only one reason I'd ever come back to this place, why I'm the proud new owner of a crap factory in the middle of nowhere."
Clark took a step closer. "Which is?"
Lex reached for him. "Don't you know?"
Four months was not an eternity, certainly not so long that he'd forgotten how it felt to kiss Clark. But the first touch of their mouths was still a surprise of pleasure, how soft Clark's lips were, how warm, the way Clark sighed as he deepened the kiss, how sweet he tasted, like nothing else had ever been sweet. They kissed until Lex's lips tingled from it, and then he hugged Clark to him, pressed his face against his neck and just held on, like someone who'd been pulled back from the brink of a very bleak and lonely future.
Clark whispered against his shoulder, "I missed you so much."
Lex tightened his arms around him. "God. I missed you, too."
He didn't know how long they stood there like that. Forever probably wouldn't have been long enough. Finally, though, the thought of Clark's parents made him let go, although he couldn't bring himself to actually take a step back. Clark had seemed so irretrievably lost to him, as if Smallville was a distant continent and not the next county over, and now that Lex had him back again, he needed to stick close.
"I didn't know you'd been to Smallville before. I thought nobody in your family ever stayed at the mansion."
"They don't, really. I was only here once with my father. It was a long time ago." He wished he hadn't brought up the past. He wanted so much to sound casual, but there were some things you just couldn't talk about as if they meant nothing.
Clark knew him too well not to hear the catch in his voice. He frowned. "When exactly were you here, Lex?"
"It doesn't matter."
Clark stared at him and then his expression jolted with realization. "Oh, God." He stroked a gentle hand over Lex's bare head and looked so sad. "I'm sorry."
He took Clark's hand and kissed it. "Don't. You're not responsible."
"But that was me. I came down in that storm."
"So? That doesn't mean you caused it."
"I'm still sorry you were hurt," Clark said softly.
Lex rested his forehead against Clark's. "And I'm sorry you thought I was sending you away because you're-- not from around here. It was never that. I swear."
Clark wrapped his arms around him. "So you really bought a crap factory just because of me?" Lex felt his smile against his cheek.
"Technically, I didn't buy it. But, yes, the fact that it's conveniently located in your hometown was the primary--okay, the only--inducement to acquire it."
"Does this mean you'll be sticking around then?" Clark shot him a hopeful look.
Lex touched his face, stroked his thumb along his cheek. "I think things here may need my personal attention."
Clark's smile was wide and pleased. "Come on." He took Lex's hand. "There's something I want to show you."
He led Lex up a set of rough-hewn stairs to the loft, which had been lovingly transformed into a refuge for him. There was a couch, a table, a stack of books, a telescope set up at the far end, pointed toward the sky, as if Clark were scanning the stars, looking for some evidence of where he'd come from. The idea of it made Lex's throat close up a little painfully.
"My father calls it my Fortress of Solitude," Clark said. "Kind of dorky, huh?"
"I think your father sounds like a smart man. Everyone needs somewhere they can be alone."
"That's true." The room spun, and Lex somehow ended up on his back on the sofa, with Clark stretched out over him. "Especially for things like this." Clark kissed him, more frenzied than before, more determined.
Every ounce of reason Lex had screamed at him that this was a bad idea. If Clark's parents caught them, they might forbid him to see Clark altogether. Lex's cock, on the other hand, surged painfully against his zipper, only caring that Clark was close and touching him and there was the happy prospect of being naked with him in the near future.
Lex did his best to ignore his cock. "What--" he said, between mouthfuls of Clark's tongue. "Are you doing?"
"Mmm." Clark pressed his face against Lex's neck, breathing him in. "I'm taking care of something that needs my personal attention." He rubbed his thigh against Lex's hard-on.
"God," Lex groaned. "Stop. We shouldn't be doing this here."
Clark pulled off his shirt and flung it to the floor. "You made the decision to send me home to Smallville. So I'm making this decision. It's only fair." He undid the buttons of Lex's shirt, pushing the fabric out of the way, stringing kisses over Lex's chest.
"Clark, your mother already seems kind of iffy about me. If she sees us--"
Clark grinned. "Hey, wait until you meet my father. He's got kind of this grudge against your family, and he owns a shotgun."
"Clark!" He tried to sit up.
Clark bit playfully at his nipple, making him moan. "I'm just kidding." He pushed Lex back down. "Okay, not about the gun or the grudge. But my father's in Grandville today picking up tractor parts. And, anyway, I'd protect you."
He brushed his fingers along Lex's bare sides, rimmed his belly button with his tongue, making Lex shudder.
"You're trying to kill me."
Clark smiled and continued his trip down Lex's belly, kissing and licking and blowing tantalizing little puffs of warm air over Lex's sensitive skin, making him so desperately hard his eyes started to water. When Clark finally pushed down his zipper and released his straining erection, he sighed in relief. Then Clark bent his head, and Lex's entire body coiled with need, heat everywhere, surrounding his cock, burning in the pit of his stomach, spreading over his skin.
"God!"
Clark pulled off his cock long enough to shush him.
"Easy for you to say," he hissed, as Clark began to trace patterns with his tongue on the underside of his cock.
He let Lex's erection slide from his mouth, and Lex had to dig his fingernails into his palms to keep from making loud disappointed noises.
Clark rubbed his head against Lex's belly. "At least you've been in Metropolis where there are actual gay people. I've been here."
"Clark." He stroked his hair. "I haven't been with anybody since you left. I don't want anyone else."
Clark lifted his head, startled, and then heat flared in his eyes. He braced himself on his arms and leaned over and kissed wildly until Lex's lungs burned and the blood pounded in his ears.
"I love you," Clark whispered against his lips.
Lex smiled, the desperate clench he'd felt in his chest since he'd let Clark go finally relaxing. "I love you, too."
Clark fumbled with his own fly and pushed his pants and underwear down over hips. Lex spread his legs, and Clark settled between them. They kissed and murmured tender nonsense and rocked their bodies together, too greedy for one another to make it last long. Lex gripped Clark's shoulders, and Clark called his name, and they both came, tangled messily around one another.
Clark reached over to the nearby table for tissues and cleaned them both up. They straightened their clothes, but Clark didn't get up, wouldn't let Lex up, either. He rested his head on Lex's chest, and it was so quiet and everything smelled warm and clean and like Clark, and Lex was pretty certain he'd never been happier in his whole life.
"I've been lonely without you," Clark said in a quiet voice.
Lex pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Haven't things been okay at home?"
Clark fiddled with the button on Lex's shirt. "I guess you could say it's been complicated."
"You want to tell me?"
"Well-- Mom says she doesn't blame me for what happened with the baby, but sometimes-- And then, my dad is always trying too hard, which really isn't helping. People at school think I'm even weirder than they did before. And most of my friends are still mad at me."
Lex stroked his fingers along Clark's forearm. "I'm sorry. It sounds like it's been a hard adjustment."
"I knew it would be. You can't expect to go away like I did and come home and have everything be the same. I'm not the same. Why should anything else be? But that's really the worst part of all. I can't tell anyone about Metropolis, because they wouldn't understand. And that feels like I'm pretending it never happened. But it did, and it changed me. And-- That's why it would just be so much better if you were here. So I'd have somebody who really knows me."
Lex tightened his arms around him. That he was the one person Clark trusted to understand didn't just make his day, it made his entire life. "We'll just have to be careful."
"Seventeen is legal in Kansas. And I'll be eighteen soon, anyway."
"I wasn't thinking of me, Clark. It's not easy being out in a community that's not very gay-friendly. Not to mention that there's little love lost around here for anyone with my last name. You don't need to be known all over town as Lex Luthor's boyfriend. So let's try to keep it discreet, okay?"
Clark propped himself up on his elbow and studied him. "How do you feel about organic produce?"
"Um. I'm not against it?"
He grinned. "Good. Because I make deliveries on Wednesdays and Fridays. It's a good excuse for me to come see you. So you'll need to order a lot of artichokes." He bent his head for a kiss. "Thank you for saving the farm, by the way. It would have broken my parents' hearts to lose it."
Lex ran his fingertips lightly along Clark's jaw. "I didn't do it for them."
Clark's eyes filled with warmth, and he leaned in for more kisses. The spark of longing between them reignited, press of bodies, mingled breath, clutching fingers, rough panting as they moved against one another, trying desperately to get closer, as if they wanted to crawl inside each other's skin.
"Clark!" Mrs. Kent's voice rang out.
They broke apart like a shot.
"Yeah, Mom?" he called back down to her, nervously pulling at the hem of his shirt, trying to pull it down over his erection.
"It's dinnertime."
"Okay. I'll be there in a few minutes."
Lex scrubbed his hands over his face, his heart pounding. He couldn't remember the last time someone's mother had almost caught him in the act. "Okay, so from now on we only do this at my house." He stood up and tried to smooth the wrinkles from his pants.
"I've always been curious to see the inside of the mansion." Clark took his hand and led him back downstairs.
"Won't people think it's strange, though? If you and I are suddenly the best of friends, an interloping businessman and a high school student?"
"We just need a believable story. Like you drove your car off a bridge or something, and I rescued you."
"That's believable?"
"You'd be surprised." Clark walked him outside.
"So what are you going to tell your parents?"
Clark shook his head. "I really don't know yet."
"I'm pretty sure your mother already knows."
"Yeah, there's not much I can hide from her. She is my mother."
He touched Clark's arm, worried. "I don't want this to come between you and your family."
"It won't. My parents want me to be happy." He rested his hand on the back on Lex's neck, thumb moving in lazy circles. "And I'm so glad you're here I can't even tell you."
He smiled. "Me, too." He cast a glance around. There were cows watching them from the other side of the fence, chickens clucking around the barn, a silo in the distance. It made his Ferrari look like something from another planet. "So, this is Smallville, huh?"
Clark grinned. "This is it."
Lex gathered Clark's beautiful face in his hands and looked into his eyes, just like a promise. "I already feel at home."
***
You can read the previous parts here:
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15