fic post:Mariposa

[roxy]

Title:Mariposa
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating:3
Summary: Alternate Universe, in which true love rules all. Really!

The end of part two--yay!!!!



The Previous Parts are here, exhausted—the roller coaster ride of fame can be draining. As is the ride of self-delusion, but you have to be *this* tall to get on.






Perfect Day


Clark sat at the vanity and studied his face, grimaced. He glued thick false eyelashes to his own because there was a party tonight, and that meant he had to look good. Silver shadow went over his lids, and black liner followed. He looked at himself and swirled the thick sable bush into the pot of peach colored blush. He looked like fucking death warmed over. He drew the brush over cheekbones like knife blades. He was so white—so fucking pale the peach powder looked almost orange, but at least the skin was smooth and blemish free.

The pads he tucked into the bra in the gown helped create the illusion of cleavage, and he pat a little powder down the center of his breastbone—stopped and pulled the top down some and rouged his nipples too. He adjusted the gown and turned to get heels out of the closet. The stupid jacket was hanging on the door knob again. He didn’t remember doing that. Stupid. He grabbed the jacket and a hanger and stopped. He held the jacket to his face and held on through the roll of deep grasping blackness that sucked at him, tried to draw him under. He took a deep shuddering breath and hung the jacket back on the knob. Okay. Okay, he could see the damn thing; it wouldn’t kill him to look at it. It didn’t even matter…he rolled the ring, and the feeling of being swamped receded to a vague feeling of unease. He felt a little itchy, a little jittery. His eyes felt sticky, and he tried not to blink as he carefully applied color and gloss to dry lips…he slipped a pair of wide bracelets on each wrist, and shivered.

Bobbie walked into the room. “Why is it so hot in here, aren’t you hot, Mari, honey. Aren’t you dressed yet?”

Clark shook his head, and clipped a long thin chain between the bracelets.

“There you go, perfect. Come on, let’s go in.” She held out her hand and Clark’s shook when he took it. She smiled. “Pretty thing.”

******
The apartment was packed, wall to wall flesh, the music exploding in the air nearly as solid as the walls. He had to take a breath or two when he entered the nest to let his lungs get used to the gray mass that was supposedly air. He let his eyes wander, choosing. Van would let him take anyone but his favorite of the moment, so it behooved him to ferret the little fuck out, who the fuck ever it was, and take them.

He wandered, as noticeable as the smoke that weaved thick tendrils through the air, slowly sipping at mineral water and a twist of lime, and picked through the crowd. They were a mixed bunch, some were people in the same line as the Gallettis, and some were people who had no fucking business being there, and people whose only claim to fame was that they were entertaining in one way or another—Lucas could give a flying fuck what singer or actor pranced around the Twins. Movies, music, art—they held no meaning for him. Smeared paint on canvas--he never could understand why or how it was supposed to make him feel anything—it wasn’t real. Like movies. You couldn’t *see* the people on the screen, they weren’t alive, they didn’t react, so it was a pointless to watch them. Music was just noise taking up space in your brain. Why Lex tolerated it, sought it out, was a mystery to him.

Lex…a chill ran up his spine and he smiled. Maybe he should get something for him. Lucas looked around the room, and smiled even wider. That’s just what he’d do; he’d pick up something nice and gift it to Lex.

He took another round of the dark apartment, and found his hosts--Galletti was in one corner with his crazy sister at his side, a girl on his lap who looked enough like her to be a substitute, no doubt. It was all well and good to fuck your sister behind closed doors, but even dealers of mass murder, even baby killers liked to pretend they had some kind of moral standard, some line they wouldn’t cross. He snorted. Van irritated him just by existing. He watched him slow motion screw the girl, and imagined killing him in various ways. He’d decided on shoving a taser up his ass, when a tall shape at the bar dressed in purple caught his eye. The back of her gown was open to the cleft of her ass, long black hair caught up in a tail fell between her shoulder blades, setting off the tattoo of a butterfly on one. She turned, and her eyes were huge, black, her lips were blood red against her pale, pale skin. She was striking—beautiful…Lucas stared hard. And a man. He smiled, beautiful, but her hands gave her away. The black eyes swept the room and landed on him and he felt her gaze right in his gut. That was the one he was bringing home to Lex.

Of course, she was the favorite and that made it sweeter.

He loved how angry Van was—he looked like he was about to bite. Lucas felt warm all over, watching the man struggle to suck up to him. Bobbie was totally clueless to Van’s struggle--too stupid to care about anything but what he’d given them. She fluttered and cooed over the package, and over Van until he was distracted from the source of his anger, and drawn into his sister’s enthusiasm.

Lucas watched them slide the needles into each other’s arms, one helping the other, crouched holding on to each other; nothing else existed for them, but them. The miracle in the thin glass vials made them light up, made them glow, hid the ugliness and only revealed love. For a wild moment, he hated the twins beyond all rational thought.

Still, Lucas carefully watched the minute changes his brother’s blood wrought. He’d wanted to see what it would do. And now he knew--it made them beautiful, almost inhumanly beautiful. Of course.

But it didn’t make them immortal.

“I’m ready.”

Lucas stood and looked at the twins pointedly, impatiently. Bobbie said “You can take Mari, but nothing leaves with her.”

Van nodded. “We bought the bitch, and every thing that came with him.” He glanced at his sister and frowned. He repeated, “He can’t take anything with him.”

Bobbie snickered and walked away from Van, leaving him scowling on the couch, watching her.

Lucas raised his eyebrows, “Why would you want some whore’s stuff?”

“We don’t want that shit, but he does.” Van said. “It’ll hurt, that’s all.” Lucas could easily see infant Van, gleefully tearing wings off flies and burning anthills…anthills. Lucas tilted his head and considered.

Bobbie danced over to Lucas side, leaning on him and he fought his instinct to throw her down. “Oh yes, it will hurt. It means so much…to Mari. Otherwise it’s just a bunch of shit. If you didn’t have such a valuable product, we’d never let her go. She’s so much fun, the best toy I’ve had since…well. In a long time.” She pouted. “Someone’s always taking my toys before I’m done with them.”

Lucas sighed, he grit his teeth and counted the minutes and imagined the ways.

They made arrangements to meet in six months, and Lucas told them if they had something he wanted at that time, they’d talk. They might as well have something to occupy their final days, he thought.

Van sent the tall transvestite back to her room and told Lucas that she was expecting him. Lucas grinned at Van, and laughed to himself when the man tried to pass a snarl off as a smile. Fun.

******

Lucas walked into the dark room, swept a look around. The room was much warmer than the rest of the apartment, and smelled better, mostly of incense and perfume, and an underlying odd citrus smell. The walls were papered dark red, and all the furnishing was dark, red and purple predominated. She lay on the bed taking up one corner of the room, the rest of the room was taken up by a sitting area, and Lucas perched on the chair that faced the bed. The—servant--slave—he wasn’t sure what to call her, looked up without much interest, just waited….

“I bought you,” he said. And the gift stretched, and opened her, his robe…

“Then you need to tell me how you want me.” He raised an arm over his head, and parted his legs slightly. Lucas was surprised. Big cock on that one…skinny, but with real food and some training, he had the potential to be big… “Well, are we going to fuck or what?” Red glittery lips pouted, and silver eyelids drooped. “Is Van going to join us?”

Lucas raised an eyebrow. “Does he do that?”

“Sometimes,” he smiled. “Sometimes his sister joins in…it depends.”

Lucas looked around the room. There was nothing much that belonged to that person here, he thought. Gowns draped here and there, shoes in a pile under the bed…he glanced back and the slave was stroking himself with a little smile…but his eyes were flat and dead.

Lucas stood and walked towards an incongruous item in the room. A high school jacket hung on a hook near the closet.

“So, do you wear this sometimes? That’s hot--”

“Don’t touch that,” the boy hissed, and reared up from the bed like a snake.

“Okay. Got you.” Lucas smirked and let the jacket drop. The boy jumped from the bed, and crouched over the jacket, looked up from the floor into Lucas’ eyes. The boy’s eyes weren’t black, he saw. Not black at all, they were green and…a trick of the light made them look briefly red. And he was much younger than he’d thought at first, his age than him, maybe younger….

“What’s happening here?” the boy asked, and there was no trace of the languid creature that had sprawled over the satins a moment before. “How much time did you buy?”

“No time. I bought *you*. You—I own you now. And I’m taking you.”

The boy’s eyes widened, and for a moment he looked hopeful, and then with a thoroughness that was almost painful to watch, he went flat—dead. He shrugged. “Let me pack.”

“Nope, sorry. Van made it plain, all I bought was you. Nothing else, it all belongs to him. Let’s go.”

The boy paused, hand on the jacket. “No! No—I have to take—take what’s mine.” His hand clenched in the leather of the jacket, the eyes were alive again and full of pain.

Lucas felt…sad for him. Van was crueler than he’d realized. “What does that mean to you?” he asked, wondering if the boy would tell him.

“It’s all I have left of my life,” he answered, so readily Lucas was surprised. “It’s all I have…”

He glanced at a heavy ring on his finger, and Lucas sighed, and said a little impatiently, “You’ve got to leave that too. Van wants everything.” He pointed at the butterfly tattoo. “I had to convince him to let you take those with you.”

The boy laughed briefly. “—take these with me? They’re permanent, he’d have to--” he went even paler, skin white as linen, and his eyes were wide with horror. “…you’re kidding.”

“You know I’m not. So let’s get out before he changes his mind. Take the ring off.”

The boy slipped the ring off slowly, slowly, his face going through a million changes of expression as he did—the ring was in his palm, and anguish filled his face—he opened his mouth and before Lucas could stop him, swallowed the ring.

“Fuck kid! You could have choked on that fucking thing! Idiot!”

The kid gasped hoarsely, “Don’t tell him…God, what if he notices the ring is missing…he’ll come after me, won’t he?”

Lucas shook his head. “He won’t. Not where you’re going. He’ll never see you again.”

The boy lifted his head, wiped at his mouth. “Good. Good. Take me out.” He stopped, looked at Lucas’ expression, and his shoulders slumped a bit. “I have to walk out of here naked.”

“That’s what he said,” Lucas drawled, and the boy shrugged. Dropped his robe.

“Lets go.” It was terribly arousing, the way he jumped from defiance to total surrender…Lucas was hard in an instant. “Wait.” He called down to his driver, gave him instructions and turned back to the boy. “So…I’m having clothes sent up for you that belong to me, and Van won’t say anything. No one but me will see you naked…so. Come here.”

The boy turned, unsmiling, too calm. He walked toward Lucas and dropped to his knees. Opened his pants. “Tell me if you don't like this,” he said. And swallowed him down.

Lucas jerked—the inside of the boy’s mouth was so warm, really warm. The heat raced straight into his groin, the suction on his cock felt amazing. The kid made a little move with the tongue that made his knees weak. This kid was a genius at sucking cock…hell, maybe Lex didn’t need him…Lex. Lucas groaned and panted, leaned over the kid and grabbed his shoulders hard. “Fuck, slow down, that feels too good. Let me feel it…” the boy grunted and pulled back some. His tongue flicked over the head of his cock, swirled around it. He dropped back, and swallowed, Lucas could feel his cock slide into the boy’s throat, he thought of Lex standing in front of the kid, groaning and fucking his mouth—Lucas jerked and came, the boy swallowed, and swallowed and Lucas moaned…shit. Maybe Lex *didn’t* need this gift; maybe he should keep it….


They walked out of the apartment without incident, and took the elevator all the way down to the parking garage. The kid went from glaring at him, to shivering; looking like a deer in the headlights, until the elevator eased to a stop in the garage. The doors opened on the dark cold space, and Lucas was startled to see tears on the boys face. His hands stroked the worn t-shirt constantly, slid down his denim clad thighs. He looked stunned, and fearful. Lucas felt a grudging kind of pity for the kid, and pulled his hand gently, made him walk out into the dank air of the garage. The kid stopped and inhaled…”It’s—it’s Spring.”

“Spring? What the fuck.” Lucas inhaled too. “It’s fucking buses and too many fucking cars and wet, that’s what it is.”

“You remind me of—of someone.” The kid actually laughed, and Lucas felt a little chill run down his spine. He thought, ‘he’s really young’, and ‘I’m really shooting myself in the head bringing this kid to him’… “Come on, brat, make tracks, I want to get as far way as I can from these assholes.”

“Yes,” The kid agreed. He swiped at his cheeks and muttered, “I’m coming back here some day…” and Lucas grinned. That kind of emotion he understood. Not that there would be anything for the kid to come back to….


They were settled into the limo, and headed towards home, before the boy finally asked, “Who are you? If I’m allowed to ask.”

“Sure, why the fuck not? I’m Lucas Luthor. You’ve heard of the Luthor’s? I’m one of them.” He grinned, watching the shock on the kid’s face grow.

“Lu—Luthor?”

“Yeah. If you like me, wait ‘til you meet my brother…”

The boy closed his eyes and groaned, dropped his head against the leather seat back. Lucas heard him whisper, “Oh, no.”

******


Clark felt disoriented—everything was moving too fast—the clothes he’d been given to wear were too tight, the material felt odd against his skin, and that upset him. The moment in the garage, the smell of Spring in the cold damp air, had been almost too much for him—he hadn’t left that apartment in much longer than he’d thought., he could barely hold on and then--and then they were in the car. The smell of lemon polished wood filled his nose, the dim light relaxed him. The head ache that had been marching up and down the back of his neck for the last few days finally subsided, enough that he could actually think about something else besides stay on your feet and breathe….his throat still ached.

They entered a tall building, walked briskly across a busy, noisy lobby, so bright his eyes throbbed. Lucas pulled him into a mirror paneled elevator, and sighed. “Okay,” he said and was silent. He was still holding Clark’s hand, scowling at himself in the mirrors, ignoring Clark. It gave him a chance to really look at the man. He was young, not much older than he was, and good looking in a scary kind of way. Luthor’s eyes wandered his way, and Clark fought down a shiver. He’d seen those eyes like those sometimes, men that came to visit Van—the Gallettis. Men who did terrible things with a smile or worse, a look of boredom. Lucas Luthor had been kinder to him than anyone had been lately, held his hand in a gentle grip--and he still scared him.


The car opened up, and they were in the foyer of another grand apartment, but so different than the nest that Van and Bobbie lived in…it was bright, but not in the eye aching way that the lobby had been. It was bright with sunlight, and smelled like clean air, and green plants. There was a man in the living room, and it was Lex Luthor, and Clark suddenly wanted to throw up.

The man who’d bought him walked over to Lex and whispered in his ear, eyes never leaving his. Lex Luthor’s eyes opened wide and then, they giggled. Together. At him.

Lex came closer, grinning at first, but slowly the grin faded—he frowned a little, eyes narrow as he studied him. He turned away, and Clark thought he said ‘can’t be’…and his heart leaped. Lex had recognized him—Lex remembered him, he was sure of it.


Lucas came and took his arm. “So, here you go, Lex-Lex. She’s all yours.”

Clark looked at him, and said softly. “He.”

Lex nodded. “You don’t belong to anyone. Not to me.” Clark felt a little sting in his chest, and he lifted his head higher. Lucas’ hand came down on his shoulder, hard.

“Oh hell yeah he does.” Lucas grinned, “If not to you, than to me. Those Gallettis got more than they should have—just so I could have you.” He looked at Lex. “I will be going back for my refund.” He laughed lightly.

Clark swayed a little. The headache was back in full force, eating away inside. He needed to—

“Go put that kid in bed. And then come tell me what you did, you idiot.” Lex walked away, leaving Lucas and Clark standing in the living room.

Lucas grinned. “Come on, you heard him. Bed time.”


tbc!

Comments

[clarkscherry.livejournal.com]

Also the cover art is great!

[roxymissrose.livejournal.com]

Thank you! The cover is by the brilliant digitalwave who is so very good to me.