sv fic post:The Persistence Of Vision (repost)

[roxy]

Title: The Persistence Of Vision 2/3
Author: roxymissrose
Pairing: Lex/Whitney, Clark
Rating: Adult/nc-17
Warnings: angst, inference of rape, hints of non-con, happy ending
Word Count: 4970

Summary: Whitney subjects Clark to the scarecrow treatment and suffers consequences

Written for the lexslash Challenge: Anyone But Clark



Chapter Four

I
Whit was sitting near the property entrance when Lex's Porsche rolled up and stopped, idling at the closed gates. He stared at Whit for a long moment, and then indicated he should get in the car.

"Whitney…what are you doing here? I didn't call."

"You haven’t for a few days. I…I figured…to check. On you."

"I'm touched." The gates opened and he drove through. After a few seconds he said. "Whitney…have you ever tried to find a way in, squeeze past the bars…?"

Whit laughed. "You can’t squeeze past these bars. Not unless you have a cartoon fence. And your fucking guys won't let me in, even though I've been coming here almost a year—a year, Lex. They act like they don’t know me, like I've never been here, every damn time. But Clark—he walks up to the door like he owns the fucking place." He stared at Lex. "If I tried to walk in unannounced, I'd get shot, hunh?"

When they came to a stop, Whit jumped out of the car. "So, what's going to happen now? What will you do to me for showing up unannounced?"

Lex walked past him without a word, and Whit followed because he didn’t know what else to do.

They were in his entertainment room before Lex spoke again. Whit looked around at the huge room…he'd never seen it before. Lex's study, his bedroom, the back door…he smiled crookedly, and swallowed the sharp lump in his throat. Clark had never seen his bedroom…never would.

"I'll leave instructions that when you come to the gate, they alert me." Lex threw his gloves and jacket across the back of the huge couch dominating the room. One glove landed in a half-empty bowl of pop-corn.

Whit didn’t say, that's all? He gets to walk all over your property, but you're going to let me be *announced?* He didn’t say a word, not when Lex yanked the Sharks sweatshirt he was wearing over his head and threw it to join the jacket and gloves, not when Lex pulled his jeans down or when he folded him over his desk. Not once while Lex fucked him slowly, rubbing his cock all over the slick glass surface, through the pre-come he leaked on it…Lex groaned, called his name, and pulled out. Whit felt heavy hot drops splatter across his back—Lex let him pull back and finish himself off, and when Whit came he was certain Lex whispered his name. *His* name….

II
Graduation came, and Whitney's name was announced, along with the news he had the honor of winning an athletic scholarship to Metropolis University. At least that much of his future he knew—he was going to Met U in the fall. Lovely.

His parents were happy for him, or relieved, hard to tell. His dad was still a little weak; the heart attack he'd had a few months ago had been a shock to all of them. His parents had been in a tailspin for a while, but now things were back on track for them…life was looking up a little. A miracle had occurred, in the form of a brand new research program in Metropolis that seemed designed to benefit his dad. It couldn't have come at a better time, and of course his dad's doctor recommended him and of course he was admitted. Whitney had felt very little surprise.

No…no…truthfully, he'd been confused….

While his dad and mom were making pre-admittance arrangements at Metropolis Hospital, Whit was spread eagled on his back across a cherry-wood desk in an office at LuthorCorp, Lex watching from his leather desk chair as he jerked himself off. He didn’t have to be told to lick his hand clean. Whitney thought it was a small price to pay—a ridiculously small price, for both the scholarship and the medical help. He didn't talk about it and neither did Lex. Whit was afraid to touch it, this sudden almost generosity. It felt like maybe a creeping toward something more...or wishful thinking on his part. Best not to examine it too closely.


Chapter Five

I
Summer's sun was at its height—it crisped lawns and fried tempers. The heat and humidity made the air feel like superheated damp wool in his lungs--felt like he was swimming as he moved up the sidewalk. Sweat beaded along his hairline, with every movement, rivulets rolled down his back, his ribs…

All he wanted was a cool place to sit and something sweet and crammed with ice to drink. He slouched towards the Beanery, the closest cool place he could get to without expending too much energy. Head down, watching his feet, he heard Lex's Porsche before he saw it. He lifted his head just in time to catch Clark burst out of the Beanery doors, looking too goddamn happy. The Porsche pulled up to the curb with a screech of tires, and an icy blade run up his spine as Clark jumped in next to Lex. He was smiling, a huge happy smile, and Lex didn’t even glance Whit's way. He knew that he was there, fucker, he passed him to get to his fucking boyfriend. The car pulled away from the curve, and was gone. Zero to sixty in three point seven seconds….

Ten hours later, the Porsche was being wiped down in the garage, and Whit was sitting on the floor of the study, flipping playing cards into an empty bowl. Lex raised an eyebrow. "That bowl you're flinging cards into cost more than what you make in—a year." Whit heard that Lex was just making an observation, not scolding, and he grinned, threw another card. Lex sat and tugged his tie loose, and said, "Clark would never touch my things like that. He'd never take them for granted like you do."

Whit looked up, flung a card and smiled. "It's only money. Your money."

"It's art. It's beauty. It's something that gives the eye pleasure. Aren't you afraid of breaking it?"

"Do you worry about breaking beautiful things?"

Lex snorted and stood. He walked to the study door and locked it. "Don’t talk anymore," he said.

"Fuck you. Where did you go with him?" he asked.

Lex was slipping the cufflinks from his cuffs. He stopped and raised an eyebrow. Looked down at Whitney. "Where did we go? What business is it of yours?"

"Can you talk to me like we're normal people for just once? I want to know what you did. Where did you and the little prince go?"

"Shut up," Lex murmured and opened the first few buttons of his still crisp shirt, and looked thoughtful as he folded over his sleeves, and almost more to himself than to Whit, he answered, "Where *did* we go…we spent some time at the Museum of Modern Art. Clark had an assignment to write a paper on an artist of the Impressionist period…" Lex handed his cufflinks to Whitney. Whit stared at them, and held them in his hand. "He chose Georges Seurat and the Met Art has a few nice pieces…I thought it would help him to see the actual thing. Feel it, in a way. Experience the beauty."

Whit tightened the hand that held the cufflinks into a fist, squeezed tight until it hurt. "I like paintings," he said, and cursed himself. He felt red rise in his cheeks--even to his own ears he sounded like a ten year old. That was how to lose points with Lex—be too direct. Too needy.

Lex stopped walking and looked at him. "I'm sure you do," he said, and pulled his shirt tails loose of his trousers. "Would you like to hear more?"

He walked away, towards the wet bar and Whit said, "If you want to tell me."

Lex bent, opened the fridge and took a bottle of water out. He cracked the seal and drank. "We went to lunch afterward. Clark had Cornish hens with an apricot glaze, and since it was early for me, I had a salad."

Whit leaned against the legs of the couch and frowned. "You don't like to eat before six…you never eat lunch…but Clark wouldn’t want to eat alone…"

"Umm. After lunch, we walked around Centennial Park, and talked about life after school."

Whit looked up at him. "He's going to be a sophomore next year. How much does he need to think about after school now?"

"Clark has a calling—a destiny. I know he's going to do great things. It's never too early for him to think of his future."

Lex drank again, and Whit tried not to watch him, but Lex took the tip of the bottle in his mouth like he took the tip of his cock, it made him shiver. "What did you do then?" he asked gruffly, and Lex smiled. The tip of his tongue swept around the narrow opening of the bottle and dipped in briefly. His eyes glittered when Whit shuddered.

"Then," he said, "we drove the three hours back—straight home without deviation, and I dropped him off in his driveway and he squeezed my shoulder and said, thanks Lex, you're the best friend ever and I drove back here to find you sitting on my doorstep. Looking at me like you couldn't wait to suck my dick."

Whit smirked. Clark got the trips and dinner and Lex's charm and respect and longing, he got his cock. At the moment, he wasn't seeing anything bad about that. Later, he'd feel like shit but that didn't matter. Right now, he just wanted all of Lex he could get. Lex stood over him with a smile, and offered him the bottle of water. "Thirsty?"

Whit took it, took the neck of the bottle into his mouth and tilted his head back, drank half the contents and licked stray drops from his lips. When Lex took his chin in his hand, he reached up and unzipped him, pulled out Lex's cock and took him in his mouth the same way. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of heat and hardness sliding in and out of his mouth; over his tongue…he relished the press of his lips against his teeth, the way they ground against his teeth as Lex lost control and pushed in deeper, faster…he opened his eyes and watched Lex's face shift, his eyes get dreamy and distant.

There was nothing in Whit's world except the feel of Lex's cock—arousing just because it was his—he pulled back and painted Lex's cock with his tongue from the base to the tip, traced every vein and bump and crease as he did, licked and sucked and tried to get Lex right into his throat. What had been punishment was now something he needed—he had to have the taste of Lex, the smell of him, the heavy weight of his cock thrusting into him…

Lex drove his hips forward and Whit groaned, that small movement sent a flash of heat through him, his cock was aching, leaking…he groaned around Lex and Lex told him, "Do it, come for me." And seconds later he was pumping hot come into his own hand and Lex was hissing and filling his mouth—the taste made aftershocks race up and down his spine—

He pressed his hot, swollen mouth against the cool skin of Lex's belly, teasing him, and keeping his eyes on the smooth creamy skin in front of him, asked Lex, "Do you ever think of Clark while you're doing me? Do you imagine this is his mouth?"

Lex bent his head and watched Whit lick little patterns on his skin. "No. I don't."

Whit stopped. "No? But…."

Lex sighed and pushed away from Whit. He gathered his clothes and handed the pile to him. "Dress. Go home Whit," Lex said, and turned his back.

II
Lex cared. Whit was sure. He cared; he did this because he cared. Clark might be his obsession, his vision of perfection, but he was his lover. He was the reality in Lex's life. Lex wanted him…liked him. He was sure.


It was a slow Sunday afternoon, and Whit decided to take a chance and show up at Lex's. He'd not been turned away the last few times he came without being called for—he gambled that Lex was as bored as he was. Maybe they'd even do something else besides fuck. He laughed. It could happen….

This time, Whit got as far as the front door before being made to wait while the fucking butler or whatever the hell he was supposed to be asked Lex if he should send him up.

Whitney was bitterly sure that Clark waltzed right past this guy every fucking time he came to the castle and the fucker probably smiled in his god damn face, offered him tea and cookies, whatever--sure as hell didn't call ahead to see if *Mister* Luthor was available. Fuck, Mister Luthor was always waiting for golden boy--probably halfway to hard just hearing his fucking name….

He stopped in the study doorway and watched Lex for a bit--he was staring at something on his desk—he looked up at Whit's tap on the door frame, his expression was pinched and cold, distant. "Whitney." He looked at Whit for a long moment, and then…smiled. "Come in."

Whit smiled back, relieved. "You know, that butler of yours is an asshole—when is he going to stop acting like I'm coming to steal the silver--"

The smile melted away like snow. "One person, Whit. Only one person is allowed the run of the property." Lex was turning an odd piece of metal over and over in his fingers and his expression changed again, he looked…weird. He threw it into a small gray box on his desk and said, "I need something from you, Whitney." He picked up the box and moved to a painting on the wall that Whit knew hid a safe--he'd watched it being installed.

Whit laughed, still feeling the sharp shards of Lex's words lodged in his chest. "You're *asking* me for something?"

Lex stood still, relaxed, and waited out Whit's laughter. He said, "I want you to leave. Get out, go act like a kid should—act like you’re leaving for Metropolis to start school, act like some girl means something to you—just—be normal. Have a life." He pulled back the painting, and opened the safe

Whit sat back on the couch and stared. "Are you setting me free? Is that it? You're finished—or just bored?" The icy feeling in his chest expanded--Whitney felt like he was being cracked open--stupid. Of course it had to end. He should be glad. He was free of this sick thing they had. He was free of depending on this sick, sick shit….

"I'm trying to be…decent. I do know how to be decent, no matter what other people seem to think." What he said next seemed to be worlds away from what he'd been talking about. "Tell me, do you know what you want out of life, Whitney?"

"Me? I don't want anything. I used to want to be…a big deal. Used to dream about it, making it, getting out of Smallville. Now I know I can get out of Smallville anytime I want, I can be whatever I want to be and I know I don't care *what* people think, and I don’t care what my *parents* think…and I don't care what *you* think, either."

Lex laughed. "Good for you, Whitney. Don’t ever worry about what people think. Do what's right for you." He pushed the metal box inside the safe and locked it again. "Do what needs to be done, for you." He turned back to Whit. "You know, Clark--"

Whit groaned inside. If murder wasn't illegal, he'd kill both of these fuckers and bury them in a grave together, so they could be together for eternity. Rot together forever.

"He doesn’t seem to be as clear as you are about what he wants. That's a shame. It leads to confusion, dissembling…be clear what you want Whit, and beware of what you ask for."

"Thanks, Mr. Miyagi. Do you want me to leave, or do you still need an audience for your monologue?"

"You really are a sarcastic little bastard, aren’t you? I kind of like it though. It's a nice change."

Lex reached out to Whit, pulled him close, twisted his fingers deep in his hair, "So thick…so bright…your hair smells like sunlight, Whit…"

Whitney was astonished—that had been almost…a compliment, an endearment. Lex was in a weird mood today, he thought. He froze, afraid that Lex would change back into...Lex.

"I changed my mind about you leaving. About being decent," Lex said, and tightening his grip on Whit's hair, yanked hard.

Whit laughed, his eyes locked on Lex's mouth. "Good. I like you better when you're not being decent."

"Bastard." Lex scowled, but his eyes were full of laughter, and Whit reached up to touch Lex's cheek, drew his fingertips across the smooth swell, the tips dipped into the corner of Lex's mouth, and Lex moved back—Whit moved forward. He moved nearer and touched closed dry lips to Lex's.

"Don’t." Lex's lips moved against his as he spoke—Whit shivered and opened his lips just a bit, so that they matched top and bottom with Lex's.

"Don't stop me," he sighed into Lex's mouth, "I want to know. What it's like. Just this once." He increased the pressure slowly, and Lex whispered no again, and Whit ran the tip of his tongue against Lex's teeth, gently, and Lex opened his mouth enough that Whit could take the advantage, move a little deeper into a real kiss.

He couldn't help but groan—this was Lex's mouth on his, Lex's lips pressed against his, warming them, the taste—sweet, sweet and a little sharp, and it was incredible to touch him like this. He coaxed Lex's tongue into his mouth and pulled on it, sucked, teased, just the way he teased Lex's cock, and Lex knew it and groaned.

The taste changed, it was the taste of clean, and copper and his lip stung. Lex bit him again, rocked his hips against him. He was hot, and so hard…"God. Lex. I--"

"Shh." Lex tilted his head back, opened completely to the kiss, so slow, slow and dreamlike. The kiss was good, better than he'd imagined kissing Lex would be… Lex's warm weight against his cock sent slow waves of fire licking at him all inside, made him ache to have Lex inside of him. Now he knew why Lex had never kissed him before—kissing was dangerous. It was about passion, about love.

First kiss…he laughed inside…probably only kiss. Whit wanted it to last forever and ever and he wanted it to be just him and Lex, but he felt—he knew….he groaned and squeezed his eyes tight. He was there with Lex, soaking up his heat, the feel his cock against his, but he was afraid Lex wasn't with him—that he never was with him except when it hurt.

Lex's fingers moved under his shirt, scratched at his belly and crawled down into the loose band of his jeans. Whit held his breath and waited to feel Lex's fingers wrap around his cock—the minute Lex touched him he was moaning, and trying to fuck his hand. Precome smeared against his stomach, Lex's hand, spilled and ran down into his hair and sweat ran down his legs…his cock jumped and pulsed, come soaked into his briefs and into his jeans and he felt Lex come through the layers of fabric separating them, and he bit his lip viciously to keep from laughing.

He was dressed, come making his clothes uncomfortable and sticky. Lex was coming out of the shower, wrapped in a towel that looked thicker than his bed, the kind of towels that *real* money bought. "Lex…"

"Whitney—enough. Don't ask."

"One question, that's all. One." One, one, one....

"Go ahead," Lex said, and looked exhausted and annoyed at once.

"Do you ever think--" Lex sighed irritably, Whit ignored the tight feeling in his throat—that little sound hurt. "—ever think of me—you know, when we do it."

Lex turned his back, and fiddled with the items on his dresser. "It's been a long time since I've thought of anyone but you." he said. "But don’t let it--"

Whit was already out of the door, and down the steps. He heard what he'd wanted; he couldn’t afford to let Lex ruin it for him.


Chapter Six

I
"Clark has something no one else has," Lex said as he walked around the cave. Whit followed, watching Lex weave between the scaffolding supporting lights and catwalks. He paused every so often to examine the walls of the cavern. "He has some sort of connection to these caves—and he's lying to me. Me. I'm supposed to be his best friend. Why won't he tell me the truth..." He stopped and laughed bitterly. "Or at least lie a little better.

Whit stared at the floor the ceiling, the walls. Stared at a man making a fool of himself over some kid. Some kid he couldn’t ever touch…

"I know what he really feels—I feel it too. Why can't he be honest with me?" Lex turned and fixed Whitney with an ice cold gaze….

Whit shrugged, silent. He didn't give a fuck if Clark told the truth about whatever thing Lex wanted so much. He didn’t know why it was so important to Lex Clark be truthful when he lied like breathing…Lex of all people should know that sometimes, a lie just had to be. Whit stared back at him, and Lex finally looked away and sighed. "Let's go. I need to drop you off. I promised Clark I'd spend some time with him today."

Clark. Whit turned without a word to leave the cave.

II
The sun hung over his head like a white gateway to hell, spilled heat over everything. The air was crystal clear; the world was too bright. Whit dripped sweat into his tee shirt, sweat soaked the waistband of his shorts.

He was pushing a lawn mower over the wide expanse of back yard, back and forth, back and forth, letting the drone of machinery blank his mind. He had to get the fuck out of the house, away from people.

He pushed, and slowly, without wanting to, his thoughts centered on the upcoming year—on Metropolis University—on football. If it wasn't for Lex, he wouldn’t have gotten the scholarship, but things were different for him now. All the desire to play, the need to play, was gone. He wasn't even sure about Met U anymore, it was just the knowledge that Lex expected him to be gone come August that made him almost want to leave.

Whit pushed the lawnmower across another few feet of grass, bright green even in the searing sun because his dad watered it obsessively. Whit stopped and pulled the collar of his tee shirt up to wipe his face. Yeah, the Perfect Lawn Police were bound to give his dad the secret top prize, no doubt.

He kicked a fallen branch out of his way and started to push again. The roar of the mower masked any other sound, so he was startled when Clark suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Fuck. Kent, what are you doing here?"

Clark looked nervously about, hesitated before answering. He crossed his arms over his chest and said, "I want to know if Lex has been asking things about me. Talking about me."

Whit stopped and started to pull his shirt up to wipe at his face; halfway up, he remembered the line of purple bruises that meandered down his chest, a trail nipped and sucked into his skin, starting below his nipples. The cotton dragged against them, made them tingle, harden. He pulled the hem higher, and took his time wiping the sweat away. When he dropped his shirt Clark was staring. "About you? No, why would he talk to me about anything? I just do odd jobs when the regular staff is out."

Clark's eyes never left his chest. "You're more than that. Aren’t you his friend?"

"Friend? We barely talk. What is Lex doing, Clark, that has you nervous?"

"He's not doing anything." Whit heard the defensiveness in Clark's voice—sticking up for Lex. Clark wasn't sure about trusting Lex, but he was still trying to protect him. Well, he really shouldn’t trust him, should he, Whit thought.

Clark went on, "It's just…Lex seems to think I'm hiding something but I'm not."

Whit cocked his head at Clark. "And you want me to what…tell him you're not? Okay. How about next time I'm doing some work at the castle I just say, hey Mr. Luthor, Clark's a stand up guy, he's got nothing hidden. Will that help?"

"Whitney—never mind."

Clark turned to go and Whit called out softly, "Hey…are you jealous?"

Clark froze and even with his back to him, Whit could see how his words affected Clark. "Jealous? What's that supposed to mean? Lex can be friends with whoever he wants to."

"Sure he can. I didn’t mean anything," Whit smiled. He watched Clark drive back towards town, and wondered…how was it that Lex could be so obsessed with that kid and couldn't see, if he asked, Clark would fuck him in a minute? Too bad.

Not his business.

III
Whitney closed the window on the website, and leaned back in his chair. He propped his feet up on the trunk his mom and dad bought him, the trunk to take to MetU, full of shit he was supposed to need. He tossed the paper with his roommates' numbers to the floor—plenty of time for calling them later. He couldn't think clearly at the moment. Right now, he was bored, and horny, and angry.

Lex had called earlier to tell him not to come over, that he was going to be busy at the castle. 'With Clark' was unspoken, but it was Saturday, and Saturday was Clark Night at the castle. Bastard.

He swiveled his chair around, and sucked in a trembling breath. The only thing different about this Clark Night was Lex's order not to come at all…he usually was over at one, after Clark's curfew. That Lex didn't want him over meant…something. Maybe just as simple as Clark staying over, maybe…maybe it meant something more though…Whit turned back to the computer, called up the website again….

IV
"Whitney. Can you get away overnight this weekend?"

Lex hadn’t called him in a few days, but he wasn't worried, because Clark hadn't acted any differently when he saw him after last Saturday. That told him that Lex, whatever he'd done with Clark, hadn't fucked him.

Still, Whit couldn't stop thinking about Clark staying overnight at the castle. He'd never stayed overnight, never slept in Lex's bed the whole night. Clark got to stay all night long, probably in one of the guest bedrooms. Probably jerking off a door or two away from each other. He bet Lex ordered the sheets untouched the next day. Probably slept in the bed and dreamed of his cock up Clark's ass.

He rocked his desk chair back and forth as he clicked through the site he'd bookmarked last week and returned to obsessively. He planted his elbows on his desk, rested his chin in his hands.

So Clark spent the night and they didn’t have sex, and now Lex was calling for him, and Whitney wondered what Clark had done wrong.

Sometimes, he hated Clark more now than he had when he thought he was trying to take the girl from him…he wondered if Clark had felt like he did now, like he was in competition he couldn't win.

"Can I get away? Sure, Lex. Of course."

V
"I'm going to Metropolis with some friends. I won’t be back tonight. I have my phone if you need to get in touch with me," Whit told his mother, who looked up at him with worried eyes.

"I don't want you doing something wrong, Whitney, I don’t want you to get hurt." She looked nervous and upset, and Whit had no idea why or what to tell her.

"Mom, I'll be fine. We'll just go to a movie, go to the Met Galleria, get something to eat…nothing for you to worry about, okay?"

Whit…" His mom walked away from him, speaking as she walked. "I'm afraid for you. I know you're spending all your time with that Luthor boy. I don't like it. What do you do with him?

He was so angry, his heart beat hard, so hard it made his breath catch, his mouth tasted like copper. "Did I say I was going with Lex?"

"Lex Luthor," she frowned. "The kind of man he is…Whitney, I'm afraid for you. Tell me that—that everything is okay. You're okay, aren't you Whitney?"

He heard it. He heard, tell me you're not queer, tell me you haven't changed. "I'm going to Metropolis with friends. I'll be back Sunday." Whit thought, I'll beg Lex to let me stay with him. I don’t care what they think.

Whit started to go back to his room and his mother said in a tiny voice, "The loan that he helped your dad get—it was because he was grateful for the work you do for him—on his cars and…and…his house…"

"I'm leaving, Mom."

Concludes in part three

Comments

[sussixer.livejournal.com]

Oh, poor Whitney. His world is about to implode, I can feel it. I think he is right about how Lex seems to be attached to him, even caring, but refuses to verbalize it. He is confirming it like Lex always does, through action. He even shared his personal Clark/cave angst with Whit. It may have pissed him off, but Lex shared. The time is coming however that Lex will break Whit's heart by not keeping him, by sending him away.

I love this story.

[roxymissrose.livejournal.com]

Yes, that's so true! I think no one would be very surprised by what Lex does if they watch him very carefully and really listen to what he says--but that kind of person is exhausting, and not everyone is willing to devote that much time to deciphering signals and symbols.

Thank you *so* much for reading!

[droolfangrrl.livejournal.com]

couldn't wait so i tracked it back and read it all. Good story, thanks for sharing.

[roxymissrose.livejournal.com]

Hey, thanks so much for reading!!

well, you know how i felt already :D

[ender24]

http://community.livejournal.com/whitneyfic/8213.html

Re: well, you know how i felt already :D

[roxymissrose.livejournal.com]

*HUGS*
You're the very best in all the land! *GRINS*

[(Anonymous)]

I feel bad for Whitney why can't lex smell the roses before he loses him. That kind of reminds me in a way how on the show clark puts lana on a pedastal leaving chloe out in the cold. thats kind of how lex is here putting clark on a pedistal and leaving whitney out to dry in a way i guess.

[roxymissrose.livejournal.com]

I think it's exactly like that, Lex *is* putting Clark on a pedestal, and leaving Whitney hang. But things do change... :)

[confuzed.livejournal.com]

I see th epairing is Lex/Whitney, but Clark is an obsession I don't know if Lex can ever get over. And even though Whit deserved what Lex gave him in the beginning, I think he has reached atonement.

[roxymissrose.livejournal.com]

*nods* I did think that Whit paid for what he did to Clark, way past what he owed.