roxy. fic post:Mariposa

and just a reminder that the lovely Mariposa art is by

danceswithgary!

So...can we consider this a Valentine's Day card for you guys? I wanted to give everyone a gift, but the evil that is money kept my gift list too small. I love you guys, and thanks so much to for all my cool gifts! It's a lovely feeling to look at your profile page and see the cute gifts! It's a spirit lifter, for sure! And

talitha78, I *adore* my bloody heart! *HUG* You know just what I like!

I felt I was rushing this a little but I need to move it along--let's imagine that the time frame here in this bit is actually much longer than it seems.

In keeping with the occasion, the Previous Parts are here, trying to glue lace to the hearts on their Valentine cards. I keep telling them glue won't stick to a beef heart...

Satellite Of Love

“Clark… sleeping with Lucas…is it something that you want to do?” The table was set for the two of them, and Clark sat across from him, drawing a spoon through the bowl of soup. Back and forth, and a barely damp spoon was lifted to his lips, and back into the soup, back and forth… “Clark…”

Clark nodded. “Yes, I do.” He held the spoon to his mouth, tilted it, and Lex knew there was nothing on that spoon.

“He told you you don’t have to, didn’t he? ”

Clark looked at him then, set the spoon down. “What…did he really mean?” He looked confused, and unhappy.

“He meant, and I mean--you do not *have* to sleep with him. If he wants you in bed, you can refuse.” Lex’s hands were under the table, so tight his nails cut painfully into his palms. He forced them open, looked down and was surprised not to see blood. “I’m telling you, you have a choice.”

Clark shook his head, and kept shaking it. He looked angry, so angry.

“Clark, I promise, I’m not lying. Can you come closer, sit by me?”

Clark reluctantly moved closer, and Lex indicated the chair next to him. “Sit.” Clark dropped into the chair, and the look on his face was pure Lucas—angry, withdrawn, sullen…Lex had a lot of experience with angry young men. He ripped a piece from the roll next to his plate, buttered it and handed it to Clark. “Eat that.”

“Um...I’m full--”

“Full, my ass. I doubt you’ve had a full meal since you’ve come here. Eat this or I’ll—I’ll put your hair in pigtails. And then pull them.”

Clark looked startled—furious until he realized that Lex was teasing. “Oh yeah?”

Lex nodded, “And then, I’ll dip them in an inkwell—and I’m rich, I can have one made just for dipping.”

Clark grinned against his will, and Lex handed him the bit of roll. “Eat or else…” he said warningly, mimed pulling hair, and then smiled at Clark, hoping the warmth he felt showed.

“Okay, okay.” Clark took the roll, and chewed it down, and a bit more and a bit more. Lex kept up light chatter as he did, ignoring the fact he was feeding Clark, talking about nothing important, and doing his best to try and relax the boy somewhat. The stiffness in his posture eased a bit, and his eyes sparkled a little…they were green as the ocean, and a little ring of gold ran around his pupils, like the corona of the sun…he’d seen eyes like that once before, he was positive he knew Clark--but the memory was dim and clouded, like a lot of old memories were—some thanks to Dad, and yes, some of that loss was self induced. He was reluctant to probe that memory…he did a lot that he wasn’t particularly proud of before Lucas came into his life.

Clark was watching when he turned his attention back to him, watching him in an odd searching way—as if he expected him to suddenly leap up and eat him whole. “You okay, Clark?”

Clark nodded, and smiled, so sweet that Lex smiled in return.

The door opened and Lucas loped in. “Cool, dinner, I’m fucking starving. I’ve been in meetings all day long.” He let his eyes linger on Clark, a smirk bowing his lips. He licked his lips and said, “I’m really hungry—come feed me, Butterfly, sorry, I mean, *Clark*.”

Clark turned bright red and looked into his lap, the last piece of bread falling in tiny shreds to his lap. Lex reached over and touched fingertips to his hand. “Hey, what did we talk about…”

Clark swallowed, stuttered, “I—I would rather sit here. With Lex. For a minute. And please. Don’t call me that.”

Lucas looked surprised. “What do you mean? You really don’t want to fuck?”

“I…I don’t want to, no. If I can say no. than…I say no.” Clark lifted his head, and his eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared. He said fiercely, “That’s what I want.”

Lex felt ridiculously proud of the boy. Lucas was staring at him, his eyes flat, and cold—not angry, not—anything. He shook, a slow motion shudder that rolled over him like a wave and reminded Lex of a snake swallowing an egg…or a rabbit, and then, Lucas smiled, laughed. “Shit. Okay then. But anytime you want to sleep with me, my door’s open to you.” He turned to walk away, and then turned back. “And it’s okay to just sleep, Clark. We don’t have to do anything, okay? I…like you.”

Lex raised an eyebrow—that was unexpected. Clark licked his lips, a little nervous, but smiled a great big sun filled smile. “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

“Oh, baby. You don’t know.” he laughed, and walked out.

Clark stared at the doorway for a long moment, until Lex touched him again. Clark turned to him and the smile was less wide, but it felt—more intimate, Lex thought and felt his heart speed up a little. What was it about this boy….

“Why does he call you butterfly?” Lex asked and Clark sighed, He dipped his head, and his hair fell forward, covering his face.

“You want to see?” he asked in a small voice. Clark pushed the thick fall of hair back, and began to unbutton the shirt he was wearing, one of Lucas’ shirts. One by one, the buttons opened, and Clark’s fingers hesitated, trembled on each one. The cuffs already hung open and loose, the sleeves were too short to fit and Clark’s wrists were bony, but bigger than Lucas’. He slipped the shirt back, and twisted quickly before Lex got more than an impression of a flat chest, and deep rose nipples—Clark’s back was to him, and a large purple and green butterfly covered one wing-like shoulder blade. It was beautiful and detailed, and certainly no reason to be ashamed—except that Lex understood. He knew what the tattoo represented in Clark’s mind. He walked closer, and up close, the green seemed to shimmer—he reached out and touched it and Clark flinched. “Oh.”

“Sorry, it just looked…”

“Oh no, it’s just…it’s sore sometimes, that’s all. I don’t mind if you touch it. Go ahead.” Clark bent his head, the movement of his shoulder made the butterfly look like its wings were moving…Lex traced the sweep of one wing, over Clark’s shoulder, across his collar bone…his breath came sharper, and he pulled his finger away. Turned from Clark. “It’s very beautiful. Van made you do that?”

Clark snapped the shirt back over his shoulders and hurriedly buttoned it. “Yes.”

“Look Clark.” Clark turned back to him, his face and neck a blaze of red. Lex unbuttoned his own shirt, one cuff and slid his arm out, high on the inside of his bicep was a word. Clark tilted his head down, took Lex’s arm in his hand and turned it a bit so that he could read what was drawn into Lex’s skin—he hissed a little and drew his hand away. Lex felt warm all over, and knew that he was blushing from embarrassment, maybe shame….”You understand what it means?”

He nodded. “Why didn’t you get that removed,” Clark asked, sympathy in his eyes.

“For a long time, I felt—like it was true. When they—sent me back home, my dad thought it was amusing and refused to remove it.” He looked up and caught Clark’s eyes. “I am going to have it taken off. What about you…do you want that taken off?”

Clark shrugged. “I haven’t thought about it.” He looked a little angry. “I haven’t had *time* to think about it, you know?”

“Ah—yeah. I get it. Lucas--”

“It’s not just that. It’s—everything. I have all this time now to think about—everything. How fucked up I made my own life. How stupidly I trusted people, how they keep leaving me…” Clark wiped at his eyes, and muttered. “Fuck, I’m so stupid.” He stared at the table, his hands flat on the table and Lex wanted to cover his hands with his own. He started to move—stopped. Clark didn’t need him pushing himself at him. What he needed was room to breathe, to find himself again. Lex felt Clark’s pain like it was his own. He wished that he could help in some way…make the pain less.

“Clark…it will get better. I can tell, you’re strong. You’ll get through this—you’ll deal with it--”

“I’m so fucking sick and tired of being strong. I’m tired of dealing with it, I’m tired of trying to make everyone else happy—fuck. You don’t understand what—oh shit. Never mind. I’m just so dumb.” He jumped up and ran out before Lex could say yes, he understood, every little bit of it, he did understand.

The quiet in the dining room was broken by a loud rapping—Clark knocking on Lucas’ door, asking if he could come in. Lex leaned his head on his hands. He knew what was happening to Clark, and he wanted desperately to save him, he *needed* to save him….

******

God, what the hell was Dad thinking—a shit factory in the middle of nowhere—I’m knee deep in it now, that’s for sure—literally and figuratively…the corn is flying past me on both sides—hey, what do I need to look at corn for, Kansas is fucking made of corn. I’m just in the middle of planning what to do to Dad when he’s too fucking old to defend himself when my phone rings. I glance down not more than a fucking second and when I look up again, something on the road is rolling toward me, flying toward me, trying to kill me--fuck—fuck—

It’s black, and then I open my eyes, and I’m alive. There’s a noise, the noise that woke me, tapping—someone’s knocking on the glass…I turn and see, shit, the most beautiful green eyes, the most beautiful mouth. Oh my god, what a mouth. My head is pounding, I feel like throwing up, but I’d still fuck that mouth right here and now and God, I’m really hoping I get a chance…“Hey, are you okay,” the kid asks. I want to say yeah, but it’s too much trouble. I want to say hell no—but if you blow me I’ll fake it.

I drag my self out of the car, and it’s a fucking mess. Nose down in a ditch. Drivable but shit, I had the fucker less than three days, and look at it… “Fuck. Fuck me.” The incredible Adonis comes around the side of the car, damn…that cocksucker mouth…shit. The kid is staring at me like I’m an ice-cream cone. Fuck, yeah… “Hey, kid—I think you saved my life.”

Lex woke up violently, the feeling of falling from a height making him thrash. Sweat made the sheets cling to his skin, and he jerked away from the damp touch. He wondered what he’d been dreaming that made him jerk like that—and the dream rushed back to him. That accident. The one that changed—everything for him. And the kid…He knew it. He was the kid who’d saved his life, and he’d almost raped him in return. Clark Kent. From Smallville. How the hell did he get from Hicksville Kansas and his blonde boy scout, to being a sex toy for Van Galletti?

tbc...

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sv: mariposa

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Posted by

norwich36.livejournal.com

It's about time you remembered, Lex!

Poor Lex and Clark, they have matching scars. *Hugs them both*

Posted by

fic post:Mariposa

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