Warning: Oliver's a little unsympathetic here!
Plot: It's Christmas Eve and Toyman takes a RedK revenge on Lex! What will Clark do?
It's Christmas Eve and there is music in the elevator. The song is "Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas". Lex rolls his eyes. It's not just that he's never had a happy Christmas himself, he doesn't believe other people truly do either. Everyone pretends. Smiling familes in the streets make Lex remember Lionel and Lillian wearing matching smiles for the shareholders' Christmas party, then coming home for another round of thrown glasses and angry words that Lex's fingers could never block out of his ears.
Lex steps into the street. Perfectly spaced snowflakes are falling, there are Christmas bells ringing in the distance, every cliche is present and accounted for. Lex sighs: should he expect a visit from Tiny Tim next?
But it's Toyman that appears instead. He's wearing a red waistcoat and rubbing his hands together in cartoon glee.
Lex uses his most dismissive tone:
He walks briskly past Toyman, who follows at his heels.
"Lex, you broke your promise! We were going to work together. On my special project, remember? You promised, Lex! You let me down!"
"Your project wasn't viable," says Lex, meaning "your project was excessively violent and stark-raving-mad."
"Viable, Viable, that's your Bible," chants Toyman. He snaps his fingers. "Bubble, Bubble, you're in TROUBLE!"
There's no time to run. Lex sees the red bubble coming just before it bursts over his head. He flinches and closes his eyes. Please not a corrosive, not acid. The substance soaks through his clothes; when it reaches his skin, the sensation is cool and pleasant.
"Better dead than Red," says Toyman. "Or Red, then dead, once Superman finds you, ha-ha!"
Then he flings his cape and vanishes down the street.
Lex wipes his face with a silk handkerchief. He's expecting it to be stained red but the substance has already soaked into Lex's skin. The handkerchief comes away quite dry. Lex's hand, however, is tinged faintly pink.
He knows what Toyman has in mind: this is obviously red kryptonite, which has an unpredictable effect on Superman. Lex has done a number of lab tests with the red meteor rock but this presents an opportunity for some field work. Conveniently, the Mayor is holding his Christmas Eve press conference just two blocks away.
The reporters are massed at the steps of City Hall. Clark's head towers above the rest, despite his slouch. As Lex approaches, Clark turns around and stares at him. His nostrils actually flare, as though he's caught Lex's scent on the wind. The look on Clark's face is not the genial mask of Superman, nor the faux-shyness of Clark Kent, reporter. Clark looks almost feral: cheekbones sharp, head tilted, eyes locked to Lex's.
A moment later, Lex looks down and wishes he hadn't because they are flying high over Metropolis. Clark's mouth is close to his ear:
"Oh, Lex, Lex. What have you done to yourself now?"
Then a throaty chuckle that sends a shiver down Lex's spine, and places further below.
* * * *
"Go ahead, Green Lantern."
"Batman, I've just picked up the Toyman. He's carrying several vials of red sparkly liquid. I thought it might be an explosive-"
Batman and Green Arrow look at each other: Red. Sparkly.
"John, what did Toyman say?"
Green Lantern says:
"Nothing intelligible. He was in full giggle-fit mode. "Superman. Tee hee hee. LUTHOR. Tee hee hee." And so forth."
"We should warn Clark," says Oliver.
But Superman is not answering his phone or his com-link.
* * *
Lex hadn't thought there were many new experiences left for him. But being undressed while flying over Metropolis? Yes, this is new. He's held tight in the crook of Clark's arm. One of Clark's hands is deftly unbuttoning his shirt. The cool air nips against his chest, followed by the press of Clark's warm palm.
It's hard to form words when Clark is touching him, rubbing up against him. Lex tries his best.
"Clark, I am covered in a red meteor rock gel."
Clark ignores this public service announcement. He nips Lex's neck, his hand is working its way under Lex's waistband. Lex can't contain a moan.
"Is this....UH....Clark, are red meteors an aphrodisiac for you or-"
"Stop talking," says Clark and kisses him. Lex forgets that they are flying, forgets everything but the heat of Clark's mouth and Clark's hand slipping inside his silk boxers.
* * *
"I've located Superman" says Green Lantern. "He just flew over me. He's got Lex. They appear to be fighting."
Batman adjusts the monitor.
"That's not fighting."
"They're headed for Lex's penthouse."
* * *
Back on solid ground, Lex's legs are still wobbling because Clark has just blurred out of costume and is standing there, naked. He's spent years contemplating Clark naked but to actually see him in the flesh, the perfect, smooth, warm flesh, has robbed Lex of all of his speech and most of his breath.
Clark grins, a little wolfish, enjoying Lex's gaze. He says:
"Hope you're not too attached to those clothes, Lex, because I'm going to rip them off you!"
And then there's a pile of very expensive rags on the floor. Lex takes a step backwards, towards the bed. Clark says:
"All this time I waste chasing after you, trying to keep you out of trouble.."
He pushes Lex down on the bed.
"Maybe I should just tire you out so you never want to get out of bed. Keep you here forever, keep you mine. Would you like that, Lex?"
He bends to kiss Lex, and squeezes Lex's thigh, hard enough to leave a bruise. Lex gasps. Clark licks his ear:
"Lex, do you want me to stop?"
"No," says Lex truthfully.
"Good, because that was a rhetorical question," says Clark, as he spreads Lex's thighs apart.
Lex pulls Clark down and kisses him. Clark makes a growly noise into Lex's mouth, and Lex, for the hell of it, growls back. Clark laughs. His hand trails slowly down Lex's belly; his finger traces Lex's cock to the tip. Lex moans and Clark's hand wraps round his cock and jacks him in slow strokes.
Lex curls his legs around Clark's waist, locking them together. One of his hands is gripping Clark's neck. Clark's cock is pressing wetly against Lex's stomach; Lex puts his hand there instead and Clark thrusts into his fingers. They move together: hard cocks in sweaty hands. Clark has never stopped kissing him.
Lex is about to come, hard. So hard that strange colours are floating in front of his eyes. Somehow the greens of the street decorations have floated into his penthouse. Merry Christmas?
But then Clark stops kissing him and makes a choking sound. His eyes are wide and panicked.
"Clark?" says Lex, and gets a mouthful of green dust.
"Sorry, Lex," says Oliver's voice. "Time to break up the party."
And then all goes black.
* * *
Lex wakes with a killer headache and a mood to match. For a moment, he doesn't remember why, then the fuzzy blond blur in the distance shapes itself into Oliver.
"Welcome back," says Oliver, with not a shade of welcome in his tone.
"You poisoned Clark," says Lex. He sits up. He's fully dressed again and he hates the thought that Oliver dressed him.
"You're one to talk," says Oliver. "I rescued Clark. You were assaulting him."
"I think," says Lex, "that you're jealous, Oliver."
Oliver shakes his head:
"You don't understand the effect the red meteor rocks have on Clark. I do. They make him self-destructive. He wants to hurt himself, debase himself. That's why he came to you. We both know he would never lay a hand on you otherwise. You were Clark's way of punishing himself."
Lex tries to keep his expression neutral but this shot has hit home and Oliver can tell. There's a smirk in the corner of his mouth.
After a minute, Lex says:
"Where are we?"
"This is a deactivated spaceship," says Oliver. "And your home for the next few days."
"You're imprisoning me? I didn't do anything-"
"You've always done something, Lex. You're going to chill out here until Batman figures out how to decontaminate you."
"And Clark-" It hurts to say the name.
Oliver's eyes glitter like black buttons:
"He's completely recovered. Which means you won't be seeing him for a long time, Lex. He's humiliated by what happened. You're the last person he wants to see."
* * *
"How's Clark?" says Oliver.
Batman looks up from the monitor:
"Not happy. He muttered something about a flood and flew off. Was it really necessary to use kryptonite on him?"
"Yes," says Oliver. "He was on the brink of making a terrible mistake."
"I see," says Batman, and Oliver looks away. Because Bruce probably does see; sometimes Oliver wishes he would see less.
"Where's Luthor now?" says Batman.
"Cooling his heels in space. I put him on the Queen Industries Space Capsule and-"
"You put Lex on a spaceship?"
"It's deactivated," says Oliver, a little defensively. "He can't go anywhere-"
"A spaceship?" Batman repeats.
* * * *
Lex finds the spaceship quite enjoyable to pilot, if rather slow at making turns. He'd needed something - anything - to steer his mind away from what Oliver had said. He considers his next move - perhaps an attack on Watchtower? But that would be correctly perceived as a bid for attention and Oliver would sneer again.
He would never lay a hand on you
No, put it out of your head. Along with the memory of Clark's laugh, his touch, his body sprawled over yours.
Batman's voice, coming over the intercom. Lex says:
"Hello, Bruce. Tell Oliver "thanks" for the new vessel. It took a few minutes to un-jam the controls but it flies like a dream."
"Halt the ship so I can board," says Batman. "And then you will return to Metropolis with me on the Javelin."
"And why should I do that?"
"I have something you'll want to see."
* * *
When they've landed, Batman hands Lex a piece of paper.
"What is this?"
"This mixture will remove the red meteor residue from your skin," says Batman. "The ingredients are easily procured."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then you'll never know the truth."
* * *
Lex watches the last of the red water circle down the drain. Bruce is right, of course. He has to know.
Oliver's words have soaked into his thoughts, like venom. If Clark comes today, he'll know Oliver was wrong, that it wasn't just meteor rocks that brought Clark to his bed.
If Clark comes. It's past midnight now. So perhaps Oliver was not wrong.
Lex goes to bed with a heavy heart and three glasses of scotch on his breath.
* * *
A small noise wakes him, a tiny whoosh of wind. Clark is sitting on the side of the bed. Lex says the first thing that comes into his head:
"I hate Christmas!"
Clark looks confused:
"Okay...and why is that?"
"The pretense. The pretense that you're happy, when you're not, that your family is perfect, when it's a perfect nightmare..."
"It's not my favourite time of year either," says Clark.
Lex sits up:
"But I thought-"
"There was pretense at my house too. Both my parents were estranged from their parents, because of their marriage. And at Christmas, my Mom especially, would miss her family. She'd pretend not to, and my Dad and I would pretend not to notice she'd been crying...it was hard with the farm too, all the year end financial stuff. Often there wouldn't be money for Christmas presents and I'd pretend not to mind. But I did sometimes."
"I had no idea..."
"We keep our secrets well, the Kents...and even now, Christmas isn't the easiest time. Emotions run high and bad things happen. Superman is kept busy..."
But he's taken the time to come see me, thinks Lex, hugging his knees.
"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," says Clark, reading his thoughts. "I was embarrassed, to tell you the truth. I'm sorry I ..attacked you."
Lex has to know:
"Did you go to bed with me to....punish yourself?"
"Is that what Oliver told you? I know it startled him, seeing us."
Lex smirks. Clark says:
"He's wrong, Lex. It's not like that. Look, when I was little, when my powers first kicked in, I wanted another boy's toy airplane. I grabbed it right out of his hand and sent him sprawling when he protested. My Mom took me home and told me that I would always have to be careful when I wanted something. Having the power to reach out and take anything I wanted, meant I would have to deny myself over and over. Because otherwise I'd be the world's biggest bully."
"So my life, Lex, and Superman's life, is built on self-denial. I rarely get what I want. The red kryptonite strips away my inhibitions, it's true. Toyman's plan was only half right. If I secretly wanted to kill you, red kryptonite would make it harder to resist that urge. But...obviously I don't want to kill you."
"Clark..." says Lex, after a minute.
"Could you...relinquish that self-denial for a couple more hours?"
Clark smiles. He blurs out of costume and joins Lex in the bed.
They lie side by side. Lex pulls Clark close. He's so warm. They kiss and Lex runs his hands all over Clark's body. Lex's cock is already nearly hard. His body has been aching for Clark's since they were pulled apart yesterday.
He straddles Clark's thighs. Clark puts his hands on Lex's hips.
"We should fuck," Lex suggests. "You should fuck me."
He watches tiny flickers of expression play across Clark's face as he lubes Clark's cock. Clark bites his lip.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm..." Clark is breathing heavily. "I have to work to control my heat vision...that hasn't been a problem in...years."
Lex bends down to whisper in his ear.
"I don't care if you burn the whole place down."
And then Lex feels his own burn as Clark's cock nudges inside him. Clark's hands are digging into his hips; Clark is huge and Lex has lost all ability to control the situation. So Clark takes over, thrusting into Lex and stroking Lex's cock. Lex comes with a yelp, spattering across Clark's heaving chest.
When Clark comes, his final thrust lifts them both off the bed, where they hover for a moment. Then Lex tumbles onto Clark's chest and stays there, tired and content.
Clark is tracing a pattern on Lex's back. Lex whispers:
"What is that?"
"It's Kryptonian," says Clark. It means "mine."
"Oh," says Lex. He runs a finger along Clark's arm.
"What are you writing?" Clark says sleepily.
"My name," says Lex. He yawns. "I'm claiming you. You're my Christmas present."
He falls asleep to the soft rumble of Clark's laughter.