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roxyTitle: Unleashed
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: R
Summary:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
myownghost wondered if there was anything more to say about Clark's character in The Dog, and epeters wondered if a reconciliation between Clark and his parents was possible. I thought, yeah, I think so.
--Why must I feel like that
Why must I chase the cat
Nothin' but the dog in me—
Atomic Dog
George Clinton
Clark licked at Lex's freckles, counting them with the tip of his tongue, counting down his breastbone, over the slight swell of his stomach, the crease of his hip…his sucked a brilliant red mark where thigh met hip and watched it disappear, did it again and again until Lex moaned, "My dick's down there too, you know." Clark chuckled and bit him—a sharp quick puppy nip that broke skin and bled—licked at the little red rill and by the time he'd swallowed and the faint taste of salt and copper was gone, so was the wound, clean pink skin gleamed in the low light. Lex was panting, his dick throbbing and dipping with his harsh breath; precome strung thin silver threads from the drooling tip to his belly. Clark caught the threads on his fingers and licked them clean. He crawled up Lex's body like a hungry leopard, hovered over him, smirking, until Lex rose up and pushed him over to his belly.
He loved for Lex to fuck him, told Lex so, loudly, begged him to do it harder faster, now, now—he groaned, shuddered and pushed a hand under himself, stroked his dick, moving almost faster than the human eye could see…he screamed once, short, sharp, and came with Lex. Always….
Lex slept, and Clark watched him for a long while. He drew his fingers carefully over his cheek…even in his sleep Lex frowned. His hands were fisted tight, the muscles at his jaw knotted…Clark sighed. He left the bedroom and wandered the apartment, and the ghosts walked with him. He sat in the spot he'd spent years in. The cage was still there, no one else could see it, but it was there. Philip watched him, a little smile curving his beautiful mouth; he winked and shook his finger at him. not here, Clark. Clark smiled back, stood and wandered off to the room that had belonged to him. The first place that had truly been his, meant to be a good thing. In the room, on the bedside table, was the first possession that he'd ever had. A book, the book the first person he'd ever loved had given him. He took the book and held it. His fingers traced the title without thinking, The Giver…
This was all his. Had been his and Lex had given it to him. This place was the first thing ever given to him…but Lex kept telling him that wasn't true. He wanted him to believe that those people, those…Kents, had done that for him first.
He shook his head. He wished he didn’t have so many different things slamming around in his head. He set the book down, and stroked the cover. He wished…sometimes, secretly, even though he loved Lex so much, so *very* much…he wished sometimes that he was dead.
Ray was standing next to his bed, he shook his head. No you don’t he whispered. Clark walked past him, through the gym—no, Lex's office—and to the balcony, where he could go whenever he wanted to now. He looked out over the city, and thought, this whole city knows me, fears me.
Robin looked with him and nodded. But it should have been different. Clark said aloud, "It could have been different."
He concentrated on Lex, who was still asleep, would be for a few hours more…Clark dressed in the black suit, stoked the mark over his heart, went back to the balcony and threw himself into the air.
@@@@@@
"What is that?"
Lex looked up to see Clark standing in the library doorway, his expression sliding between horror and rage. "Why is that here?"
Lex looked down at the little scrap of tan and white fur in his hands. "It's a puppy."
Clark glared. "I hate dogs."
"It's not a dog, it's a puppy. Helpless." He stroked its warm head as it snuffled into the crook of his elbow.
"Nothing's helpless," Clark spat. "They just pretend to be."
"Clark," Lex scolded mildly and held the little dog out to him. "Don’t be afraid."
"I'm not afraid!"
"I know. You're not afraid of anything, nothing in the world," Lex said quietly and soothed the startled puppy.
Clark scowled, knowing what Lex was doing, but slowly reached out to touch the puppy anyway. "I've killed these before. I'm not afraid of them." The puppy licked his finger and Clark forced his hand still. Bit by bit, he relaxed, looked thoughtful. "It won’t be here when I get back?"
"No, Clark."
He nodded. "Okay. I'm going." There'd been a flood in the Delta, and Clark was going, to give aide as a representative of Metropolis and of Luthor Corp, who was donating large amounts of money and manpower. "I like doing this. I like it better than the other thing, you know?"
"I hope someday all you'll ever have to do is help." He put the dog down and cupped Clark's cheek, moved his hand down to trace the red and purple LuthorCorp logo, right over the heart of the suit. "I love that you want that, Clark."
"I love you Lex…"
"I know…now go. See you when you get back." He watched Clark until he was only a black dot against the white of the clouds. He sighed and at a persistent tugging of his laces, looked down. "All right, you. Let's get you home. I promise you, you're going to like it a lot better there than here."
@@@@@@
Cal touched down on the driveway, lightly enough that the gravel was undisturbed. She was surprised he he'd come that close to the house. From the living room window, she watched him look around, head back…she knew he was listening to the tractor in the back field. She debated calling Jonathan, but decided not to. Fear licked at her and her heart skipped a beat, but she squashed it. Rumors and stories leaked out of Metropolis…she was a smart woman and it took her little to fill in the gaps and his visits used to be so horrible…but neither Jonathan or she could hate and neither of them could stop hoping and when the visits became…benign…they hoped that much more.
She'd taken chances. She'd left little tokens in the field, she'd left a copy of a photograph on a fence post once. When she'd checked it was gone but it could have been weather, could have been animals….
She pulled a sweater on, took a deep breath and stepped out onto the porch. She leaned against the porch railing, steeled herself and said, "Cal." He jerked, even though she knew he'd been aware of her, had been watching her. He inhaled sharply, he looked like he was on the verge of running…he looked angry, fearful…something hard to identify…lost? "We love you, no matter what. We know everything, and we love you and if it was possible, if we'd known, we would have died before…before losing you." She sighed; of course her words were like chaff blown on the wind. "Cal…" All pointless muttering. What he must have suffered at that monster's hand was played out here during his visits…they deserved nothing else. "Cal…I wish…"
"Clark," His voice shocked her—low and harsh, not what she'd imagined at all He repeated, "*Clark.*"
Her hands flew to her mouth, and she held in a sob through painful force of will. She nodded.
"I don't understand," he said. "Lex has tried to explain to me, but I don't understand. He said what you did was out of love for me." Cal stopped and frowned, looked around the yard, at the pines, the sunflowers, but not at her. "I think I understand…you didn’t know it would have been better if you'd snapped my neck, instead of letting me go."
She gasped, pain blooming under her heart, and now tears fell.
He made an odd move, a kind of tremor that shook him all over, took a step forward. "I was cheated. You were cheated."
She slowly extended her hand. He reached out with his own and all the while, her was heart thumping painfully in her chest. He smiled at her, head tilted. She knew that he was very aware of her fear—would he take her hand, or would he…she held her hand out, steady, and he touched it.
He cupped her hand in his palm, turned it over. "Soft," he said. He stroked a finger over the back her hand and let it go.
"Ca—Clark. Please…"
He jerked towards the porch…the new puppy came out from under the stairs, his little brown and white head tilted curiously at Clark. She froze, waiting, fearing—but Clark smiled, he laughed to himself, it seemed and it was a good laugh, almost warm. That man had told them it would be different with Cal now and he'd been right. Hope grew. It was strange to imagine a Luthor possibly being the way to having their son back some day. She reached out again but he shook his head and backed away.
"Come again soon," she whispered.
"Maybe," he said, and flew into the sky. He swooped up into the clouds and rolled, high over head, and she told herself that he had waved….
the end
When the Man waked up he said,
'What is Wild Dog doing here?'
And the Woman said,
'His name is not Wild Dog any more…"- Rudyard Kipling
6-09-2008
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: R
Summary:
myownghost wondered if there was anything more to say about Clark's character in The Dog, and epeters wondered if a reconciliation between Clark and his parents was possible. I thought, yeah, I think so.--Why must I feel like that
Why must I chase the cat
Nothin' but the dog in me—
Atomic Dog
George Clinton
Clark licked at Lex's freckles, counting them with the tip of his tongue, counting down his breastbone, over the slight swell of his stomach, the crease of his hip…his sucked a brilliant red mark where thigh met hip and watched it disappear, did it again and again until Lex moaned, "My dick's down there too, you know." Clark chuckled and bit him—a sharp quick puppy nip that broke skin and bled—licked at the little red rill and by the time he'd swallowed and the faint taste of salt and copper was gone, so was the wound, clean pink skin gleamed in the low light. Lex was panting, his dick throbbing and dipping with his harsh breath; precome strung thin silver threads from the drooling tip to his belly. Clark caught the threads on his fingers and licked them clean. He crawled up Lex's body like a hungry leopard, hovered over him, smirking, until Lex rose up and pushed him over to his belly.
He loved for Lex to fuck him, told Lex so, loudly, begged him to do it harder faster, now, now—he groaned, shuddered and pushed a hand under himself, stroked his dick, moving almost faster than the human eye could see…he screamed once, short, sharp, and came with Lex. Always….
Lex slept, and Clark watched him for a long while. He drew his fingers carefully over his cheek…even in his sleep Lex frowned. His hands were fisted tight, the muscles at his jaw knotted…Clark sighed. He left the bedroom and wandered the apartment, and the ghosts walked with him. He sat in the spot he'd spent years in. The cage was still there, no one else could see it, but it was there. Philip watched him, a little smile curving his beautiful mouth; he winked and shook his finger at him. not here, Clark. Clark smiled back, stood and wandered off to the room that had belonged to him. The first place that had truly been his, meant to be a good thing. In the room, on the bedside table, was the first possession that he'd ever had. A book, the book the first person he'd ever loved had given him. He took the book and held it. His fingers traced the title without thinking, The Giver…
This was all his. Had been his and Lex had given it to him. This place was the first thing ever given to him…but Lex kept telling him that wasn't true. He wanted him to believe that those people, those…Kents, had done that for him first.
He shook his head. He wished he didn’t have so many different things slamming around in his head. He set the book down, and stroked the cover. He wished…sometimes, secretly, even though he loved Lex so much, so *very* much…he wished sometimes that he was dead.
Ray was standing next to his bed, he shook his head. No you don’t he whispered. Clark walked past him, through the gym—no, Lex's office—and to the balcony, where he could go whenever he wanted to now. He looked out over the city, and thought, this whole city knows me, fears me.
Robin looked with him and nodded. But it should have been different. Clark said aloud, "It could have been different."
He concentrated on Lex, who was still asleep, would be for a few hours more…Clark dressed in the black suit, stoked the mark over his heart, went back to the balcony and threw himself into the air.
"What is that?"
Lex looked up to see Clark standing in the library doorway, his expression sliding between horror and rage. "Why is that here?"
Lex looked down at the little scrap of tan and white fur in his hands. "It's a puppy."
Clark glared. "I hate dogs."
"It's not a dog, it's a puppy. Helpless." He stroked its warm head as it snuffled into the crook of his elbow.
"Nothing's helpless," Clark spat. "They just pretend to be."
"Clark," Lex scolded mildly and held the little dog out to him. "Don’t be afraid."
"I'm not afraid!"
"I know. You're not afraid of anything, nothing in the world," Lex said quietly and soothed the startled puppy.
Clark scowled, knowing what Lex was doing, but slowly reached out to touch the puppy anyway. "I've killed these before. I'm not afraid of them." The puppy licked his finger and Clark forced his hand still. Bit by bit, he relaxed, looked thoughtful. "It won’t be here when I get back?"
"No, Clark."
He nodded. "Okay. I'm going." There'd been a flood in the Delta, and Clark was going, to give aide as a representative of Metropolis and of Luthor Corp, who was donating large amounts of money and manpower. "I like doing this. I like it better than the other thing, you know?"
"I hope someday all you'll ever have to do is help." He put the dog down and cupped Clark's cheek, moved his hand down to trace the red and purple LuthorCorp logo, right over the heart of the suit. "I love that you want that, Clark."
"I love you Lex…"
"I know…now go. See you when you get back." He watched Clark until he was only a black dot against the white of the clouds. He sighed and at a persistent tugging of his laces, looked down. "All right, you. Let's get you home. I promise you, you're going to like it a lot better there than here."
Cal touched down on the driveway, lightly enough that the gravel was undisturbed. She was surprised he he'd come that close to the house. From the living room window, she watched him look around, head back…she knew he was listening to the tractor in the back field. She debated calling Jonathan, but decided not to. Fear licked at her and her heart skipped a beat, but she squashed it. Rumors and stories leaked out of Metropolis…she was a smart woman and it took her little to fill in the gaps and his visits used to be so horrible…but neither Jonathan or she could hate and neither of them could stop hoping and when the visits became…benign…they hoped that much more.
She'd taken chances. She'd left little tokens in the field, she'd left a copy of a photograph on a fence post once. When she'd checked it was gone but it could have been weather, could have been animals….
She pulled a sweater on, took a deep breath and stepped out onto the porch. She leaned against the porch railing, steeled herself and said, "Cal." He jerked, even though she knew he'd been aware of her, had been watching her. He inhaled sharply, he looked like he was on the verge of running…he looked angry, fearful…something hard to identify…lost? "We love you, no matter what. We know everything, and we love you and if it was possible, if we'd known, we would have died before…before losing you." She sighed; of course her words were like chaff blown on the wind. "Cal…" All pointless muttering. What he must have suffered at that monster's hand was played out here during his visits…they deserved nothing else. "Cal…I wish…"
"Clark," His voice shocked her—low and harsh, not what she'd imagined at all He repeated, "*Clark.*"
Her hands flew to her mouth, and she held in a sob through painful force of will. She nodded.
"I don't understand," he said. "Lex has tried to explain to me, but I don't understand. He said what you did was out of love for me." Cal stopped and frowned, looked around the yard, at the pines, the sunflowers, but not at her. "I think I understand…you didn’t know it would have been better if you'd snapped my neck, instead of letting me go."
She gasped, pain blooming under her heart, and now tears fell.
He made an odd move, a kind of tremor that shook him all over, took a step forward. "I was cheated. You were cheated."
She slowly extended her hand. He reached out with his own and all the while, her was heart thumping painfully in her chest. He smiled at her, head tilted. She knew that he was very aware of her fear—would he take her hand, or would he…she held her hand out, steady, and he touched it.
He cupped her hand in his palm, turned it over. "Soft," he said. He stroked a finger over the back her hand and let it go.
"Ca—Clark. Please…"
He jerked towards the porch…the new puppy came out from under the stairs, his little brown and white head tilted curiously at Clark. She froze, waiting, fearing—but Clark smiled, he laughed to himself, it seemed and it was a good laugh, almost warm. That man had told them it would be different with Cal now and he'd been right. Hope grew. It was strange to imagine a Luthor possibly being the way to having their son back some day. She reached out again but he shook his head and backed away.
"Come again soon," she whispered.
"Maybe," he said, and flew into the sky. He swooped up into the clouds and rolled, high over head, and she told herself that he had waved….
the end
'What is Wild Dog doing here?'
And the Woman said,
'His name is not Wild Dog any more…"- Rudyard Kipling
6-09-2008
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