Title Possession (Obsession 3)

Author Annie

Email crehnert@ptd.net

Fandom: Smallville

Rated NC-17

Pairing Clark/Lex

Summary: Clark makes Lex admit it.

Disclaimer Still so not mine.

Obsession 3: Possession
By Annie

There are three suitcases on the floor inside the door when Clark enters the mansion, and his first thought is that Lionel Luthor has come for one of his torturous visits with his son. Clark never particularly likes to be around when Lionel is in town, but he always feels this protective obligation to keep an eye on Lex, try to deflect some of the verbal blows he knows can bite into Lex so harshly.

Clark makes his way to the office, relieved to see Lex is alone there, pacing back and forth behind his desk agitatedly, ever-present cell phone against his ear.

"I’m going, Dad, and that’s it," Lex is arguing firmly. "I need to get away from here for a while, clear my head."

Clark’s heart takes a tiny jump in the general direction of his throat. So, not Lionel arriving. Lex leaving.

Lex leaving.

Clark makes some slight sound of interruption and Lex turns to see him standing in the doorway. Lex’s heart skips a beat, and he smiles hugely in welcome before he can stop the movement of his mouth. He waves Clark into the room and turns his attention back to the phone.

"Stop arguing, Dad. I’ve made up my mind. I’ll call you when my plane lands." Lex snaps the phone closed and tosses it onto the desk carelessly.

Clark shifts earnestly from one foot to the other. "You’re leaving town, Lex?" he asks uncertainly. "You never said anything."

Lex looks down, away from the barely-hidden distress on Clark’s face, and straightens some papers on his desk before sliding them into a drawer. Lex’s hands are trembling, just that tiniest bit. Clark takes a few silent steps closer, searching for it, opening his senses, reaching out for Lex. The scent of Lex he needs like oxygen.

Cologne. A trace of sweat and expensive soap. A hint of brandy, even at four in the afternoon. And then, there it is, underneath the rest, the man himself. Lex. Lex, who wants him. Lex, who is leaving.

Lex heads briskly around behind the small bar before he answers Clark’s question. "Something came up suddenly, Clark. A little business I have to attend to personally. Just a short trip to Madrid."

"Three suitcases, Lex?" Clark inquires, voice raised just the slightest, deliberately coming closer to the bar, trying to hold Lex’s gaze, but Lex won’t allow it. "That’s a short trip? I’d hate to have to valet for you on a long one. And when were you planning on telling me? Were you going to call me on your cell phone, when the plane landed? Right after you called your Dad?"

Lex takes a quick swallow and flicks his gaze into Clark’s face, then averts his eyes painfully. It’s so hard to leave, and he had hoped to be gone today before Clark dropped in after school. "I told you, Clark," he says calmly, amazed that his voice sounds so cool and distant. "Unexpected business."

"Not that I was eavesdropping, but you told your Dad that you had to clear your head. What is it you have to clear out of your head, Lex?"

Lex finishes the brandy and sets the glass on the bar heavily.

"Things. Just things, Clark. Like, if I want to keep the Talon open and entertain a bunch of teenagers, like if I really want to be based here in the back of beyond, like if my Father will ever just leave me alone, like…." Lex is fumbling for words.

Clark leans over the bar, closer to Lex’s face.

"Like me, Lex?"

There’s a flash of – something – in Lex’s eyes. It would have gone unnoticed by anyone who doesn’t know Lex well. Clark knows Lex well, and he sees it. Lex isn’t leaving. Lex is running.

No matter what Clark has to say or do, he isn’t going to let Lex leave.

Lex comes around from behind the bar, escaping the heat of Clark’s gaze, heart pounding in his chest. "Why would I have to clear my head of you, Clark? You’re my best friend." He’s trying to distract Clark, wants to get out of the room and outside into his car so he can speed away into oblivion, or as far as an airplane will take him for a while.

"Yes I am," Clark agrees, turning his body to follow Lex with his gaze and his senses, almost overcome by the scent of the need peeling off Lex and into the air in waves. "Which makes me ask again. When were you planning on telling me you were leaving?"

Lex relents, just a bit. Clark can see a bit of the tension leaving his body as he goes back behind the desk, like it can shield him from whatever he doesn’t like. Whatever he doesn’t want to admit.

"I was going to call you on the way to the airport, Clark. I wouldn’t just leave town and not tell you. But I do have to go, or I’ll miss my plane." Lex is hustling into a black coat, and Clark is losing the battle.

"How long?" Clark finds the voice to ask as Lex brushes by him, leaving a wash of heat and scent in his wake.

"A few weeks, maybe less," Lex replies. Clark’s heart hears the truth; maybe more. "I’ll call and let you know when I get back."

Time to bring out the big guns.

"Luthors don’t run away, do they?"

Lex turns and looks at Clark curiously, everything on his face for the briefest second. How does he know? Lex can’t breathe when he recognizes the hungry, desperate look in Clark’s eyes, won’t be able to as much as leave the room if he doesn’t do it right this second.

He doesn’t have an answer, doesn’t have a single word in his head that won’t stop his feet from taking him away, fleeing from temptation and crushing obsession. He would be ruined, defeated. Owned.

He shakes his head briefly, as if in silent command to Clark, and turns again, almost through the doorway.

"Stay." A single word, no, not even the word itself, but the barely-disguised need in it, stops Lex cold in his tracks.

"I can’t." Lex closes his eyes against the sight of the cold hall, against the heat of the room at his back. Heat, which blazes suddenly, terrifyingly hotter as he feels as much as hears Clark’s approach. Coat somehow off and flung away. Chest against Lex’s back, arms coming up around from behind him, wonderful warm hands caressing the sides of his face, feeling for him like a blind man, and Lex can’t open his eyes against the intensity of it. Fingers sliding down the sides of his face, along his jaw, lightest brush across his mouth and then caress of his throat, dipping inside to trace a bit of his collarbone, burning a trail and Lex isn’t breathing, then gasps as the hands land on his waist and pull him roughly up against the hard body behind him.

"Please," Clark breathes into his ear, and Lex breaks, body trembling, breath afraid to come just yet.

Lex’s brain is in the process of telling him to get out of the mansion as fast as he can when the unexpected touches on his face short everything out. Everything except the heat in his body, building in his skin and sinking inside. No thinking. Just feeling, and he feels his head lean back toward Clark all on its’ own, feels his traitorous body trying to force itself into the warmth behind him. Gasps and stifles what he thinks might have been a sob of defeat as the strong hands at his waist pull, as the whispered ‘please’ disintegrates any iota of resolve he might have been able to muster. Too much, it’s too much, and he tries to stand away and turn around, wants to press himself against the hard heat behind him, but Clark’s arms feel it, tighten and make him stay where he is.

"Stay," Clark whispers against the back of Lex’s neck, tasting the skin there with small experimental licks, his hands pulling on Lex’s shirt, untucking it, too maddeningly slowly, fingers finally brushing across skin, hands spread open to travel upward, smooth along the ribs to brush over nipples, and then slide back down to Lex’s waist. Clark digs his fingers into the flesh there, pulling Lex against him again, but this time Clark presses his entire body up against Lex.

"Clark." Lex tries not to make the word a moan, but barely succeeds, eliciting a needy groan from Clark, who thrusts against him even harder, and then, unbelievably, never-in-a-million-years-of-fantasizing-would-Lex-think-it-could-really-happen, Clark reaches further down, running hot hands over the front of Lex’s pants firmly, tantalizing friction against Lex’s hard cock, and Lex thrusts his hips forward instinctively.

Lex reaches back into his mind somewhere to find words. "Clark, I have….Oh, God, I have to…." He wants to say ‘go,’ but his mouth won’t let him, and as he turns his head slightly, trying to talk to Clark, to see Clark, the tongue sampling the back of his neck tracks its’ heated course up the side of his neck, along his jawline and licks his lips.

"God, Clark, let me turn around," Lex pleads.

"Stay," Clark murmurs into Lex’s mouth, licking Lex’s tongue teasingly as Lex tries to taste Clark, just a little. "Stay right here, with me. No one else is here. No one is coming either." Surprising, dark little snicker of amusement then, as Clark’s tongue reaches lightly into Lex’s ear. "Well, except us."

And all this time, Clark’s hands, rubbing up and down over him, driving him insane, making his hips move, arms holding him so still.

"There’s no business in Madrid, is there? Lex?" Tiny bite on the side of his neck, making him gasp, telling him he needs to answer the question truthfully. Hands still on him, tearing a reply from him, hard to speak because he can’t even breathe.

"No," Lex manages, and Clark rewards him with another lick of his lips, almost but not quite reaching into Lex’s mouth with his tongue.

"Didn’t think so." Clark closes his eyes, opening all his other senses to Lex. Tasting the incredible smoothness of his skin, touching the hard heat beneath his hands, hearing Lex’s moans, the sounds he is trying to suppress, because after all, this is Lex, and no one can have the upper hand, but Clark does and he knows he does. Hears the pounding of Lex’s heart easily over the sounds of Lex’s ragged breathing, can almost hear the blood flowing in Lex’s veins, and maybe he can if he just listens hard enough. Pushes his hard cock against Lex and feels the heated dampness beneath his hands, tearing a groan from himself as he leans in to nudge the shirt aside and bite the tender spot where Lex’s neck and shoulder meet. Knows Lex is close. Feels Lex wanting to turn around again and tightens his hold minutely.

"God, Lex," Clark murmurs on the skin near his mouth, "You taste so good, you feel so good, you smell…fuck, Lex, you, I want you…so much…say you’re not leaving," Clark demands, his breath as ragged as Lex’s, pulling Lex even harder against him, almost ready to explode himself, but Lex is staying and Lex is…his.

Lex can barely speak, the words in his ear wrenching groans from him he can’t even try to repress, and Clark can feel the tense tremble in the body he is holding, can barely keep himself from coming. "Oh, God, Lex, say it. Please say it."

Lex is gasping urgently now, wants to put his hands on Clark but his arms are still effectively pinned to his side by Clark’s strong arms around him.

Lex is weak against Clark, mind gone, body nothing but burning centered in his cock and the hands massaging him ruthlessly. Doesn’t know how he answers, but drags it out from somewhere inside. "Not, oh God, not going, never going, God, Clark, please, not going, please, Clark, coming..:"

And the loss of Clark’s hands on him is immediate. Lex thinks he is going to explode and die, but then Clark turns him around, pulls them together, and Clark is whispering into his mouth, looking into his eyes. "Not yet, want to see you, need to see you come, Lex."

Somehow, Lex finds himself against a wall, crushed by the weight pushing against him, Clark’s hips fucking against him mindlessly, and he’s done, broken, owned, Clark’s mouth devouring his, and Clark is coming and Lex is staying, was never leaving, will never be able to leave, and his cock explodes, electricity in his spine, fire in his veins, pressing against Clark like he needs to be there to live. And maybe he does.

Lex can’t stop kissing Clark, can’t stop tasting and begins to run his hands all over the hard body leaning on him, needs to do everything he has just been denied. Wants to feel and give and control. Wants to own. Knows he does.

Lex pulls away, hands on Clark’s shoulders, taking in the breathless sight before him. Clark smiles teasingly. "Stay," he repeats.

Lex’s own smile is slightly more predatory. "On one condition. You get out of these clothes as fast as you can."