roxy. sv fic post: East of the Sun part 35

Title: East of the Sun

Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Lex/Wade, eventually clex, because there is nothing else

Rating:nc-17
Word Count:3667

Summary: Lex learns about trust and love from an unlikely source.
Notes/Warnings: this section contains violence, references to sexual abuse

Fair warning, dear readers—the mistakes here are all my own. Thanks to

danceswithgary for her encouragement and of course, the lovely cover!

Grant smiled and they backed into the door, and Clark's heart was beating so hard, he thought maybe Grant heard it. The minute the door shut, he knew without a doubt, he wanted Grant out of his room, him being there was wrong, and it was something he'd regret and it needed to stop, now. Grant moved towards Clark, his smile was sharp as a knife; he hooked a finger into Clark's waistband, looked up at and opened his mouth—

*knock knock* "Clark? Are you in there?"

Clark gasped and sagged. "It's Chloe—my—my--*girlfriend!*"

Grant gaped. "Girlfriend? Are you serious…really?"

Clark nodded frantically. "We--we had a fight earlier, that's why—" Clark thought frantically—there was nothing about what he was saying that made sense and he cursed his inability to come up with a reasonable explanation as to *why?* "I'm sorry, but could you please leave, she's my girlfriend and…"

He looked disbelieving but when Clark opened the door, pulled Chloe in, and kissed her like his life depended on it, Grant laughed a little at the obvious display.

"Tell you what, Clark. If you ever decide what it is you really want, come and see me." He stopped at the door and said, "Someone broke your heart tonight, and I have the feeling it wasn't your 'girlfriend'." He smiled sadly and left. Clark closed the door, and sagged against it. Guilt, he was building a damn tower of guilt brick by brick…and now, he'd have to deal with Chloe. Life was…not that great.

"What the hell Clark—" she gasped. She was pink and damp, wide-eyed with surprise—and then was herself again, eyes narrowing, her little hands curled into fists. "What the hell, Clark?"

"I know—I know! I'm awfully sorry—that guy…I didn't know how else to get rid of him."

Chloe eyed him skeptically. "Yeah, well…Walt and me were worried, that's why we came looking when we lost you at the club. Pete said you could take care of yourself…but I had a feeling. Looks like I was right." She rubbed lightly at her mouth, her eyes pinned him and he was glad that he was pretty much unbreakable.

"I'm sorry—and I'll stop apologizing but please--don’t tell Pete what really happened. Let him think that…that…"

Chloe gaped— "why?" and suddenly understood. "Oo—oh, okay. But…okay. Let me go on record saying, that? Is the stupidest idea I've ever heard, but." She shrugged, as if to say Clark was a mystery at the best of times. "You all right?"

He sighed, and shrugged himself. "Sure. I'm fine…you know."

"C.C.--okay. Walt's with the cab and the meter's running—"

"And so should you," Clark smiled. "Go, on—and happy New Year." He shut the door and leaned against it. I should…go to bed. I'll go to bed. Or maybe walk around a little first.

@@@@@@

Okay, so last night had been a bust and wasn't like she didn’t know it was going to be bad but she hadn't expected it to be *that* bad…Clark had been so gone, he'd nearly made it obvious to everyone with eyes that he had it bad for Alex. It was one thing for people to know, it was another entirely for them to *know*. She'd had to practically feel the sap up to throw whoever might be eyeballin' him off the scent. She sniffed, once, hard, because no matter what she's told him and herself—she'd really had hopes. Real hopes, for—for the whole caboodle, kids and the picket fence and—and. It was just that Clark was so…good. She'd wanted him for that too, that he was so good, he made a body feel like a decent being just…fuck, just being near him and that was stupid. She was stupid. She yanked her dressing gown belt so tight, she made herself squeak, grabbed a huge dollop of cold cream from the vanity counter and started working on the last night's leftover war paint, sneering at herself in the mirror as she did. Here she was again, going on about herself. Whatever she felt was nothing compared to that wide open, shattered look of pain on Clark's face. Shit—she'd warned him that Alex was ruled by the territory below his belt…but Mahaney? She didn’t get it either. Alex had to know Clark was waiting for him to--

"You're pretty." a voice said behind her and she jumped. Walt! She'd forgotten he was still here, trying to suck up enough java to make it home in one piece…she'd pooh-poohed the idea and told him he could bunk on the couch but geez—this was her *bathroom*, not her darn living room.

"When I said for you to get comfortable, lounging around with me in my robe in the bathroom wasn't quite what I meant," she said, rubbing white circles into her cheeks. "And what d'ya mean pretty? Are you tryin' to rag me?"

"No, Chloe. You're pretty. I mean—with the paint or not, you're just…" he shrugged. "I like looking at you."

She grinned in her mask of white cream. "Sure you do. You know, I was beginning to think as much time as you spend with Alex, that C.C. wasn't the only one who had it for him…"

Walt blushed hard and laughed ruefully. "No! Maybe—maybe--a tiny little bit?" And rushed on at Chloe's shocked look "—not much but--you. Wow, you--never cared about anyone as much as for you--and just so's you know, I'm not still drunk."

Chloe gaped—and blinked hard, rushed to rinse her face. No way should a guy say something like that to a girl with her puss full of Pond's. "Walt…wow. All right stranger, what have you done with my Walt? You gotta be drunk!"

"Your Walt. I like the sound of that." He grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well since I aint gotta worry about C.C. getting in the way, I thought—"

She reached behind her and grabbed the edge of the sink to keep from swaying, sudden rage made her nearly faint. "That I was a sure bet, on the rebound? Ready to fall for any old line? Think I was gonna fall back with my skirt over my head, hunh?"

Walt looked at her, horrified. "Chloe—no! I—I've thought you were swell since the first moment I saw you, but you never looked my way. I—you know me better. I thought."

She let out a long breath…and relaxed. She said, "Oh for—shit. I'm sorry, Walt. I guess I do know better. Mind you, I think you're cute too, but C.C. just kind of appeared and." She sighed. "I fell for him hard Walt, I won’t lie. I'm still kind of…carrying a torch, I guess."

Walt nodded. "I'm not asking you for instant—you know. Just that you know I'm here. If you ever think—you'd want to see. Me."

Chloe looked into his sweet earnest face, his big brown eyes…she reached up and ruffled his hair. "You! You’re a sweetie, that you are. Tell you what, run out and get us something to eat, and I'll clean up out here and we can talk. About anything *but* Alex, or Clark."

"Amen to that, sister, amen to that."

@@@@@@

Alex walked out as fast as he could to avoid Walt, and especially to avoid Clark. He couldn't explain to Clark why he needed to do this…he didn't want to explain. Clark wouldn't care or understand how important it was to him that he'd done something for a friend…that Jules was in his life again….

He was in the Cadillac alone except for Wade's bodyguard, a guy taller than Clark and twice as broad, with such a profound lack of personality that Alex had taken to calling him Wallman in his head. Never once had Wade referred to the man by name…Alex wondered if he even had a name. Maybe he was some kind of Frankenstein's Monster, created just to make the people around Wade uncomfortable. Wallman gave no sign he noticed Alex's scrutiny, he sat statue still on the fold-down seat across from him, as silent as the grave. Alex wrapped himself up in his overcoat and pulled his hat low over his eyes. His nerves were on edge, screeching with unease, and the presence of the bodyguard was doing nothing to ease his odd sense of coming disaster. What's eating you, Lex? Straighten up… This whole thing was no big deal, no worse because it was New Year's Eve. No worse because he really wanted to be somewhere else. An hour or two of Wade was hardly the end of the world, just a fucking lousy beginning to the New Year. That's what it was, this sense of unease…disappointment in having to stand up Clark.

He compared Wade, all tight, dark, silent menace, with his dragon eyes--always trying so hard to be clean, spotless--with Clark, who just *was* without trying. Clean, and fresh…he was a fresh breeze, blowing through the grimy streets of Metropolis, lighting up it's shadow clotted corners like the sun come to earth…Oh my God… he rolled his eyes. Fuck, that was sappy. he grinned wryly to himself. And a prime example of why he wasn't a lyricist. He glanced over at Wallman, who smirked when he caught Alex's eyes. The feeling of impending disaster he's almost talked himself out of tugged at him again.

The Cadillac came to a stop at the curb, idling as Wallman got out, his breath steaming in the icy chill. He turned to give Alex a hand out of the sedan, and was pointedly ignored; he smiled and moved aside. Alex frowned and hurried to the apartment lobby. Better to go with it, get it over quickly. Hs mind was on the end of the evening. He considered calling Beebs in the morning, he thought with longing about spending the day with someone safe, someone he could count on to be just what they said they were. He wondered if there was any chance Clark would talk to him…ever again.

In the apartment, Wade sent him to shower, as always. It was okay; Wade had a great shower, lots of hot water and soap, and fat soft Turkish towels.

After his shower, Wade called him into the bedroom. He walked in, dropped the towel and Wade told him to lie on the bed face down, and starting rubbing his shoulders, talking about his day. Wonderful. It was one of those evenings that started off with Wade feeling chatty, domestic…which was actually good; it generally meant an average evening. Quick, uneventful—home before daylight. He stroked him, from the nape of his neck, around his shoulders, his spine, rubbing, kneading. Alex groaned. It did feel good…Wade dipped his head, kissed and bit the curve of his ass, gently. Alex's stomach tightened, lurched. He waited. This time he didn’t get the painful bite he expected, this time, it was a sharp sting, and then the velvet wet swipe of Wade's tongue. Seconds later, a sudden burning sensation swept out from where Wade had licked—turned to warmth as it spread.

"What did you do…" Alex felt his joints loosen, his muscles turn to taffy….

Wade massaged his ass, squeezing, pressing... "Twilight sleep, ever hear of it? They mix some stuff up, makes you…relax. Makes you open. Something different. Celebrate the New Year with..." Wade dragged clawed fingers down Alex's ribs and he moaned in pain, his head felt too heavy to move. The door clicked and Alex could see Wallman from the corner of his eye. "We’re ready," Alex heard Wade say.

Alex felt like he was wrapped in hot Turkish towels, wrapped up, stifling, hot…sound wavered in and out and finally the garbled noise leveled out into a song he remembered. He drifted in and out...the radio…Gennie, tune in the radio

tune in the radio properly; it's all static…

Bluebirds
Singing a song
Nothing but bluebirds
All day long…

Let me sing this to you, darling. Lay your head in my lap and I'll sing to you…

Never saw the sun shining so bright
Never saw things going so right
Noticing the days hurrying by
When you're in love, my how they fly…

Damn it…Alex groaned. He was back in the apartment, and the hand tracing his lip was small and blocky, silver rings on the fingers clicked against his teeth…

Lex, dearest, really—don't cry. Didn’t you like it? You said you did before…please don't cry, you make me sad. Here, drink this---it's hot milk and honey and just a bit of rum. It will make you feel…

"Better, Alex? You look like you like it." He opened his eyes and was staring at the lights in the coffered ceiling, deeply confused. When did he get here? A hand circled his prick, and slowly pulled upwards, a sharp tongue tickled and stabbed the skin, teeth nibbled gently and he spread his legs, lifted…

Lex, come read this essay. Clever isn’t it?

He smiled up into the face above his. It is good. Bruce is good at everything.

A soft hand cupped his cheek…Mmm. He's not as beautiful as you. You are my angel. Soft lips touched his, a velvety smooth tongue parted his lips…I love you, angel…

His thick prick was bumping and nudging at his mouth, something was moving between his legs, something hot and hard breeched him with a hard lunge. He cried out in pain.

"Shhh… don't cry, not yet…" Fire swept up his chest and curved around his heart.

Fire swept through him, he gasped and moaned, it hurts, I don't think I…

Oh my dear, I can't stop now, wait a minute it will get better, I promise…

Alex swam slowly awake. He knew what was happening, Wallman was fucking him, hard--he felt ripped apart, torn to rags. Wade spoke, said something to him…what? He rolled his eyes and tried to move but he was trapped, pinned…he felt Wallman's prick pull out, drag across his legs, leave a wet trail—he shook his head, no, that wasn't real, what was real was, real was—Wade fucking his mouth, and. Something was being shoved into him, big and painful and Wade pulled his prick away and laid down next to Alex.

"He's big. Just relax. It'll get better." Alex groaned. He felt a weird searing heat fill him, like burning crystal being poured inside him. Sparks shook him, Wallman brushed that spot over and over, the one that made him feel stars. That was real…

Feel that, Angel, ah, I see you do. you look like a god, burning with the sun…Lex shook and groaned, he was hard as steel and Gennie kept stroking that spot, filling him with burning stars, the hand stroking his penis, pulling an orgasm from him and Lex felt like he was coming forever…

Woke up shaking and screaming, and soaking the sheets…he smelled sweat and blood and come. Felt a hot slick on the back of his neck and head, steady licking rasp against his sticky skin, like a cat…"Clean him up Chauncey, that's a good boy…"

Chauncey? Alex giggled helplessly...Wallman, Chauncey…was…some day soon, a dead man...the next instant he howled in pain…smelled fresh blood and Wade was shushing him. But he was cutting him…maybe…kissing him and cutting…not sure, he couldn't keep up anymore.

He opened his eyes again and he was home, in Dad's office. Safe. Relief flooded him. He was dressed in his middle school uniform, he could tell by the color--navy and grey--long pants breaking over the wingtips he was so proud of…he was standing in front of Dad's desk, watching him write an address on a long cream envelope…Agnes came in and bobbed. "Mr. Lionel, a gentleman to see you, sir."

Lionel moved then, put down his pen, and rolled a blotter over the envelope. "Lex, why don’t you take the chair by my desk?" He rose and took Lex's hand like he was a child instead of almost a man and gently led him to the plush old fashioned chair by his desk. He pressed his shoulders down until Lex was sitting. Lex remembered being a little boy, watching his father work, sitting in the chair with his feet swinging, counting the brass nails outlining the fat arms. Now, he took up space, his head was even with the tall back and his feet touched the ground….

He crossed his legs and scratched at the velvet nap. He liked that chair. He looked at his father, who was looking back at him. He looked…sad…something, Lex wasn't certain what his father was thinking. He bent suddenly and kissed the crown of his head, seemed about to speak--the doors to the study opened and it was Uncle Morgan and Gennie. He froze. Oh--

"Shit… he's bleeding a lot, ain't he Boss? Should we—"

"Get me a towel, and some of that hooch. Help me roll him…" They cut him loose and Alex felt a sharp spear of pain that unrolled into a thundering wave. He was hissing and jerking in their hold and he wasn't sure what he was feeling and nothing seemed real. The pain kept slipping away, wiggling and sliding all over him and never settling in one spot and he wished it would stop.

Hello, Lex Gennie said, and he looked frightened--Lex saw it in his eyes and the tense, tight line of his jaw. Uncle Morgan made him sit.

Lionel, here's your gift. Where do we start?

Dad asked, Did this man hurt you?

Lex didn't know what to say. He watched Gennie shrink inside himself and felt something horrible was coming.

"Alex." Smack "Alex, wake up." Alex's eye's opened and Wade was looking down at him. "Good boy." He curled his hand under Alex's chin and tipped it up a bit, kissed the corner of his mouth. He stroked his face and looked content, satisfied, like a cat on the hearth. "You're a good boy."

"I…" His mouth was too dry and painful to talk, his head was too heavy to lift, his arms and legs hurt. Wade got up and moved away. Alex closed his eyes and again, someone was shaking him.

"Wake up…"

He groaned, tried to roll to his back but someone was touching him again…

You'll never touch another boy again. You'll never get near another boy again…

"He's drunk. I don't do drunks." Alex felt hands pull at him, his eyelid pulled up and something dark swam into and out of his sight.

"I'm paying you for this. From where come these morals? Not exactly useful in a whore." Alex heard a sharp laugh, and shivered.

"You're right. You first?" He heard. It was too hard to open his eyes completely, he peered through his lashes. A tall dark shape dropped in front of Wade, he knew from the way he was standing, bent over slightly, that whoever it was, was blowing him. Alex's eyes dropped, he breathed through his mouth…a weight settled on his back, and a hot wet mouth was on his ear. "I'm sorry, I promise, you'll get payback. I promise, I'm sorry..." The voice kept on, encouraging, whispering, telling him how loved he was, how good, and Alex just--left again.

he remembered his father's eyes as he took up the knife from his desk, bore down on Gennie's face with it, at the last second the point landing against a high sharp cheekbone—he twisted and blood broke over the blade…Lex shoved fingers in his ears to block the sound—
"Lex? Lex, are you…shhh…"

Watching as Uncle Morgan's man broke Gennie's fingers, one by one, bent them back until they snapped like breadsticks. They split his lips, they broke a rib, they beat him and they let him go. He told Lex in between screams, I'm sorry. Sorry I hurt you, sorry I met you…

"I'm sorry I hurt you," a quick whisper in his ear and gone…

He was flying, flying high through the sky, dipping in and out of clouds and a lovely deep voce told him, I will kill them all for you Lex, one day I will kill them for you…

@@@@@@

The persistent jangle of the alarm broke through a deep sleep, and Alex woke with a curse, and a groan. He rolled to his side and fished his hands out of the covers, flipping the alarm clock over trying to turn it off. He groaned again, and wiggled deeper into the blankets. A white hot flare shot through him—shit!—his ass was burning. His legs and shoulders. He felt like he'd gone a dozen too many rounds with Joe Louis in his sleep…what happened? He moved, and his stomach flipped, and flipped…he tried to crawl out of the bed, the sheets rubbed his chest—and he yelped. It stung. He pulled the covers away. He had cuts, a long shallow cut that circled one nipple and went down into the waist of his pajama bottoms. But what happened? He remembered getting out of the sedan with Wallman, and having…drinks with Wade? And then…he guessed he must have fallen asleep. Did Wade do this to him in his sleep? He would…maybe he slipped him a mickey, the fucking bastard.

He managed to get to his feet and staggered into the bathroom. He hurt all over, inside and out, and felt sick as a dog. Shit... Wade must have…done something. Something had happened to him. He clung to the sink and waited for the waves of nausea to wash away…he rubbed a hand over his sticky face, smelled a faint odor of roses. Wade. He had no idea what happened New Year's Eve, but he was sure of one thing—there was a growing feeling deep inside him, a need to bring an end to this--this thing with Wade, whatever it took, however it happened.

part 36
tbc...lord...

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Posted by

opusnone.livejournal.com

incredibly intense chapter. amazing writing and really liked how you handled the flashbacks and the realty for Alex: disturbing but not gratuitously so. wow!

ps - not so secretly rooting for Chloe and Walt here.

Posted by

sv fic post: East of the Sun part 35

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