Categories > TV > Smallville
The Seven Year War
0 reviewsSlash - [Clark/Lex] - Seven years after they stopped speaking, the battle lines are redrawn.
5Moving
The Seven Year War
by ingrid
0o0o0o
Seven years had passed since the last time they'd spoken.
It was in Metropolis, at the start of Clark's college career. Clark couldn't stop lying, Lex was forced to start and that was the beginning of their inevitable end.
The unspoken spark between them was still there. As hot as a red-shining branding iron and this was what led to the break in communication more than anything else.
Being in each other's physical presence became painful exercises in self-restraint. Restraining themselves from accusations, from screaming, from punches thrown -- and from kissing each other senseless.
So they stopped seeing each other. Completely. Excuses were made at first, until those puttered out and disappeared.
Phone calls became monosyllabic, then stopped entirely.
Eventually, Lex retreated to his LeXcorp office, crouching like a tiger behind a huge black desk, pretending to all onlookers that he was on a very important headset call even when there was nothing but static on the line.
After graduating from Met U, Clark ended up in a tiny Daily Planet cubby, his broad shoulders slumping lower and lower until he was nearly invisible. A sharp poke from Lois would get him to occasionally straighten up, but then Lex would be on the cable feed and he'd slouch back to his self-made cave, on the retreat once again.
It was utter and complete avoidance, both physical and emotional.
And it was better this way, or so they both thought.
*
Better, that is, until the day Clark was sent on assignment to interview Lex at his office, by a Perry White who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
Part of Clark hoped that Lex would beg off, hell, hoped he would have him turned away at the building's main door, but no such luck.
He was given a pre-made ID and escorted there personally, by a tall, beautiful woman who barely spared a glance in his direction. Clark wondered if this was perhaps one of Lex's girlfriends and the thought made him burn hot with jealousy, until he realized how foolish he was being.
Not every woman on earth was sleeping with Lex, no matter how fevered his imagination ran when thinking about Lex in bed, something he did far too often for comfort.
On his patrols they called him the Man of Steel, but at that moment Clark felt as if he were made of rubber, shivering outside of the great oak doors of Lex's office. The assistant pushed them open and he entered, expecting to see a cold man sitting proudly behind his desk -- a man pretending not to even know the former friend standing in front of him.
He wasn't prepared to see Lex sprawled lazily in his desk chair, reading from a bright red file folder, his tie loose and collar undone, showing the long, smooth lines of his throat.
Clark had always liked Lex's throat. And his neck ... his chest ... his ...
He shook head and shoved his slipping glasses back up to his eyes. "Mr. Luthor?"
Lex glanced up. "Mr. Kent?" Mocking, yes, but gently.
Somehow that stung more than a sharp tone would have. "I'm here on behalf of the Daily Planet to discuss your merger with Star Labs."
The folder was closed. The lazy sprawl was refined into something a little more business-like, with one long leg crossed over the other. Clark forced himself to stare at Lex's shoe -- Italian leather, very expensive, very shiny -- and nervously sat himself in a spare chair in front Lex's monstrous desk.
"So your editor told me. Perry is quite insistent, isn't he?"
"Very." Clark swallowed, hard, trying to clear the lump in his throat. It was hard to focus, especially with wild thoughts rearing their lustful heads at every movement Lex made, every inflection of his voice.
Seven years, it seemed, had disappeared in a blink of an eye.
"Where would you like to begin? Benefits to the merge, financial statements ... hiring, firing status?"
This was no good. This was not going to work, Clark despaired, as his notes swam in front of him. His brain wasn't working right and just then, his mouth decided to turn traitor, with its usual terrible timing.
"Why haven't you called me?" he blurted out and God, they were right back in Smallville, as if they'd never left.
Immediately, the sprawl snapped into something much stiffer. "Pardon me?"
"Why did you stop calling? I know I stopped too, but you always were more persistent. I guess I was counting on you to be ... yourself ... but you stopped being even that. Why?"
"You know, Clark, I expected you to be more professional than this." Cold voice, but Lex's throat was working, just the way it used to, whenever Clark had wounded him badly enough, back in the old days.
No longer wanting a disguise, Clark took off the glasses. "I just want to know why."
"I don't know what you want me to say. Do you want the sanitized version or the truth? Because I can lay it all down on the line, but trust me, you're not going to like the answer."
The grey eyes were ice cold now, daring Clark to take it all the way. Daring him to let the dam break open and the poisoned waters flow where they may. Clark almost said 'yes', but something -- something in Lex's face told him not to.
Not yet.
Carefully, he unfolded his glasses and put them back on. "No," Clark said quietly, pulling out his notebook, the neat outline he'd prepared the night before coming into stark view. "My apologies, Lex. This isn't the time or place for this discussion. Your time is valuable. I won't waste any more of it."
Fury, like a blinding frost, twisted Lex's features, but only for a split second. His expression blanked, then took on the soft, carefree lines of an ordinary businessman, trying to do his best for his stockholders, nothing more.
"So, where were we again?" Lex said, gamely enough. "Ah, yes. The merger. I feel that it was in the best interest for both LeXcorp and Star Labs that we ..."
He droned on. Clark took notes. They were back to exactly where they were seven years after they'd abandoned one another.
Almost.
*
Two nights later, Clark was busy burning his dinner. Not on purpose, but his concentration had been off considerably since the meeting with Lex forty-eight hours before.
It was hard to think when you were mentally kicking yourself in the ass every five minutes, not to mention jerking off every time you thought about his lips. Just his lips ... nothing more.
Were they as soft as they still looked? Clark could have gotten up, shoved the massive desk aside with one hand, pulled Lex up by his tie and found out. Found out what Lex tasted like, beneath the morning lattes and illicit shots of scotch.
Would Lex push him aside? Or would he open up to Clark, letting him take it all. Letting him undress Lex, just ripping off the shirt and then ...
The doorbell rang.
Not in Clark's fantasy -- which was making him hard even as he attempted to clear the bitter haze from his kitchen -- but in reality, there it was, the zippy buzzing sound of his apartment bell.
Another impatient press of the button, and Clark wondered who it was. Probably Lois, and God he was going to smack her if she was there to drag him on yet another chase after Superman so she could ogle his ass.
"Christ, Lois ..." he sighed, pulling the door open and finding Lex there, in the same suit he'd been wearing during the interview, except crumpled and wrinkled almost beyond recognition. Lex was swaying on his feet, smelling strongly of alcohol and smoke that hadn't spewed from Clark's pasta pot.
A thousand thoughts filled his mind and then fled when Lex grabbed him clumsily by the collar and pulled him into a vicious kiss. A bitter-tasting, tooth-knocking affair it was, leaving Clark breathless and aching at the same time.
Clark allowed Lex to propel him back against the wall, let him take his mouth again, with no less force. He moaned as the slick mouth slid down his throat, then back up to his ear.
It was here Lex murmured, "I was going to bring some Kryptonite."
Chills ran through Clark, but he didn't push Lex away. "Why didn't you?"
A predatory smile. "I didn't have to."
Another kiss followed, this one slower, more deliberate, making Clark's misgivings evaporate, even as Lex's unsteadiness reached the point where Clark practically had to hold him upright. There was no denying Lex's state and Clark gently disentangled himself from the drunken embrace.
"Not like this," he said quietly, surprised when Lex didn't protest. "We deserve better."
He looked too tired to argue and Clark wondered how long he'd been out drinking. Hours? Days? It didn't matter, he would be spending the night sobering up and maybe the night after that they'd do some talking.
Seven years worth of talking. Or a lifetime of fucking. Whichever worked better.
"I'm not going to talk about this in the morning," Lex mumbled, as if reading his mind.
Clark bundled him over toward the bathroom for a quick scrub down. "Then we'll do other things," Clark promised, stripping Lex down, trying not to gawk at the creamy skin revealed. He ran the hot water first, then the cold. "Whatever you want."
"You have no idea what I want."
"I'm willing to find out. Now how about climbing in there?"
Lex did as instructed and as he sank down into the steamy water, he grinned at Clark. "I had you going there, didn't I? With the Kryptonite thing?"
"You are always surprising," Clark admitted, reaching for the soap and a washcloth. "I had no idea you knew."
"Why wouldn't I? You're a crappy liar," Lex muttered, closing his eyes.
"And you're a crappy villain," Clark countered. "So we're even I'd say."
"I'd say you're going to have to prove that statement."
"Later. Along with a lot of other things," Clark promised, allowing for one kiss pressed against Lex's warm brow. "So many other things ... when we do our talking."
"I already told you, I'm not talking about this."
And so the war began in earnest.
*
end
by ingrid
0o0o0o
Seven years had passed since the last time they'd spoken.
It was in Metropolis, at the start of Clark's college career. Clark couldn't stop lying, Lex was forced to start and that was the beginning of their inevitable end.
The unspoken spark between them was still there. As hot as a red-shining branding iron and this was what led to the break in communication more than anything else.
Being in each other's physical presence became painful exercises in self-restraint. Restraining themselves from accusations, from screaming, from punches thrown -- and from kissing each other senseless.
So they stopped seeing each other. Completely. Excuses were made at first, until those puttered out and disappeared.
Phone calls became monosyllabic, then stopped entirely.
Eventually, Lex retreated to his LeXcorp office, crouching like a tiger behind a huge black desk, pretending to all onlookers that he was on a very important headset call even when there was nothing but static on the line.
After graduating from Met U, Clark ended up in a tiny Daily Planet cubby, his broad shoulders slumping lower and lower until he was nearly invisible. A sharp poke from Lois would get him to occasionally straighten up, but then Lex would be on the cable feed and he'd slouch back to his self-made cave, on the retreat once again.
It was utter and complete avoidance, both physical and emotional.
And it was better this way, or so they both thought.
*
Better, that is, until the day Clark was sent on assignment to interview Lex at his office, by a Perry White who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
Part of Clark hoped that Lex would beg off, hell, hoped he would have him turned away at the building's main door, but no such luck.
He was given a pre-made ID and escorted there personally, by a tall, beautiful woman who barely spared a glance in his direction. Clark wondered if this was perhaps one of Lex's girlfriends and the thought made him burn hot with jealousy, until he realized how foolish he was being.
Not every woman on earth was sleeping with Lex, no matter how fevered his imagination ran when thinking about Lex in bed, something he did far too often for comfort.
On his patrols they called him the Man of Steel, but at that moment Clark felt as if he were made of rubber, shivering outside of the great oak doors of Lex's office. The assistant pushed them open and he entered, expecting to see a cold man sitting proudly behind his desk -- a man pretending not to even know the former friend standing in front of him.
He wasn't prepared to see Lex sprawled lazily in his desk chair, reading from a bright red file folder, his tie loose and collar undone, showing the long, smooth lines of his throat.
Clark had always liked Lex's throat. And his neck ... his chest ... his ...
He shook head and shoved his slipping glasses back up to his eyes. "Mr. Luthor?"
Lex glanced up. "Mr. Kent?" Mocking, yes, but gently.
Somehow that stung more than a sharp tone would have. "I'm here on behalf of the Daily Planet to discuss your merger with Star Labs."
The folder was closed. The lazy sprawl was refined into something a little more business-like, with one long leg crossed over the other. Clark forced himself to stare at Lex's shoe -- Italian leather, very expensive, very shiny -- and nervously sat himself in a spare chair in front Lex's monstrous desk.
"So your editor told me. Perry is quite insistent, isn't he?"
"Very." Clark swallowed, hard, trying to clear the lump in his throat. It was hard to focus, especially with wild thoughts rearing their lustful heads at every movement Lex made, every inflection of his voice.
Seven years, it seemed, had disappeared in a blink of an eye.
"Where would you like to begin? Benefits to the merge, financial statements ... hiring, firing status?"
This was no good. This was not going to work, Clark despaired, as his notes swam in front of him. His brain wasn't working right and just then, his mouth decided to turn traitor, with its usual terrible timing.
"Why haven't you called me?" he blurted out and God, they were right back in Smallville, as if they'd never left.
Immediately, the sprawl snapped into something much stiffer. "Pardon me?"
"Why did you stop calling? I know I stopped too, but you always were more persistent. I guess I was counting on you to be ... yourself ... but you stopped being even that. Why?"
"You know, Clark, I expected you to be more professional than this." Cold voice, but Lex's throat was working, just the way it used to, whenever Clark had wounded him badly enough, back in the old days.
No longer wanting a disguise, Clark took off the glasses. "I just want to know why."
"I don't know what you want me to say. Do you want the sanitized version or the truth? Because I can lay it all down on the line, but trust me, you're not going to like the answer."
The grey eyes were ice cold now, daring Clark to take it all the way. Daring him to let the dam break open and the poisoned waters flow where they may. Clark almost said 'yes', but something -- something in Lex's face told him not to.
Not yet.
Carefully, he unfolded his glasses and put them back on. "No," Clark said quietly, pulling out his notebook, the neat outline he'd prepared the night before coming into stark view. "My apologies, Lex. This isn't the time or place for this discussion. Your time is valuable. I won't waste any more of it."
Fury, like a blinding frost, twisted Lex's features, but only for a split second. His expression blanked, then took on the soft, carefree lines of an ordinary businessman, trying to do his best for his stockholders, nothing more.
"So, where were we again?" Lex said, gamely enough. "Ah, yes. The merger. I feel that it was in the best interest for both LeXcorp and Star Labs that we ..."
He droned on. Clark took notes. They were back to exactly where they were seven years after they'd abandoned one another.
Almost.
*
Two nights later, Clark was busy burning his dinner. Not on purpose, but his concentration had been off considerably since the meeting with Lex forty-eight hours before.
It was hard to think when you were mentally kicking yourself in the ass every five minutes, not to mention jerking off every time you thought about his lips. Just his lips ... nothing more.
Were they as soft as they still looked? Clark could have gotten up, shoved the massive desk aside with one hand, pulled Lex up by his tie and found out. Found out what Lex tasted like, beneath the morning lattes and illicit shots of scotch.
Would Lex push him aside? Or would he open up to Clark, letting him take it all. Letting him undress Lex, just ripping off the shirt and then ...
The doorbell rang.
Not in Clark's fantasy -- which was making him hard even as he attempted to clear the bitter haze from his kitchen -- but in reality, there it was, the zippy buzzing sound of his apartment bell.
Another impatient press of the button, and Clark wondered who it was. Probably Lois, and God he was going to smack her if she was there to drag him on yet another chase after Superman so she could ogle his ass.
"Christ, Lois ..." he sighed, pulling the door open and finding Lex there, in the same suit he'd been wearing during the interview, except crumpled and wrinkled almost beyond recognition. Lex was swaying on his feet, smelling strongly of alcohol and smoke that hadn't spewed from Clark's pasta pot.
A thousand thoughts filled his mind and then fled when Lex grabbed him clumsily by the collar and pulled him into a vicious kiss. A bitter-tasting, tooth-knocking affair it was, leaving Clark breathless and aching at the same time.
Clark allowed Lex to propel him back against the wall, let him take his mouth again, with no less force. He moaned as the slick mouth slid down his throat, then back up to his ear.
It was here Lex murmured, "I was going to bring some Kryptonite."
Chills ran through Clark, but he didn't push Lex away. "Why didn't you?"
A predatory smile. "I didn't have to."
Another kiss followed, this one slower, more deliberate, making Clark's misgivings evaporate, even as Lex's unsteadiness reached the point where Clark practically had to hold him upright. There was no denying Lex's state and Clark gently disentangled himself from the drunken embrace.
"Not like this," he said quietly, surprised when Lex didn't protest. "We deserve better."
He looked too tired to argue and Clark wondered how long he'd been out drinking. Hours? Days? It didn't matter, he would be spending the night sobering up and maybe the night after that they'd do some talking.
Seven years worth of talking. Or a lifetime of fucking. Whichever worked better.
"I'm not going to talk about this in the morning," Lex mumbled, as if reading his mind.
Clark bundled him over toward the bathroom for a quick scrub down. "Then we'll do other things," Clark promised, stripping Lex down, trying not to gawk at the creamy skin revealed. He ran the hot water first, then the cold. "Whatever you want."
"You have no idea what I want."
"I'm willing to find out. Now how about climbing in there?"
Lex did as instructed and as he sank down into the steamy water, he grinned at Clark. "I had you going there, didn't I? With the Kryptonite thing?"
"You are always surprising," Clark admitted, reaching for the soap and a washcloth. "I had no idea you knew."
"Why wouldn't I? You're a crappy liar," Lex muttered, closing his eyes.
"And you're a crappy villain," Clark countered. "So we're even I'd say."
"I'd say you're going to have to prove that statement."
"Later. Along with a lot of other things," Clark promised, allowing for one kiss pressed against Lex's warm brow. "So many other things ... when we do our talking."
"I already told you, I'm not talking about this."
And so the war began in earnest.
*
end
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