Title: No Choice 2/2
Word count: 1,500
Notes: A sequel to No Choice. I'm not sure if I need to warn y'all, but there are references to vaguely non-con sex here but I make it all better, don' worry. Thanks to kho for her quick and helpful beta. MWAH! You rule, baby!
Summary: The aftermath of being fucked by a superstrong alien in heat.
Feedback: Hell yeah!
No Choice 2/2, by Kate
Lex wakes up long before he opens his eyes. A part of his brain seems to be telling him that keeping his eyes shut is necessary, for self preservation. Every muscle in his body hurts and breathing isn’t as easy as it should be. The pain in his chest suggests that at least one of his ribs is cracked.
When he can’t stand it any longer he allows his eyelids to flutter open and he turns his head to the side with difficulty and relief hits him like a warm gust of heated air on a winter’s day. Clark is fast asleep.
This is Lex’s chance. To shower; but first, to take a good look at the alien in his bed.
He sits up and it takes every ounce of willpower not to cry out. He should be a lot better by tomorrow but today is going to be hell. Carefully, he climbs off the bed, making sure not to move the mattress much, so as not to disturb Clark’s sleep.
Lex stands next to the bed, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his ass and the burning pain of the various grazes he’s got all over his body. He looks at Clark, skin unblemished, mouth upturned slightly, black hair sticking out strangely, like a toddler’s, lightly breathing, peaceful at last. The sheet, soiled with their combined juices, is covering his legs only and his penis is flaccid; a state Lex has never seen it in.
He’s a god. Exquisitely beautiful face and long, brown, muscular body. The room is mostly in darkness from the drawn curtains and Lex has no idea what the time is, although he would guess it’s early evening.
Clark had kept Lex up (and up) for at least fourteen hours, possibly sixteen, possibly more, before Lex had finally passed out from either exhaustion or pain; he’s not clear on that at this point because the last thing he remembers is being on his hands and knees on the bed, Clark behind him fucking him so hard he thought he would pass out from the agony of it, and then… nothing. Lex guesses that he did, in fact, pass out from the agony of it. Lex has a higher pain threshold than most but some things even his brain can’t cope with.
He hobbles into the bathroom and shuts the door, looking ruefully at the broken lock and wondering whether a trip to the doctor might be necessary.
Had he begged Clark to stop? Lex can’t remember.
He does remember the last time he looked in the mirror though and he’d thought he looked bad then. Nothing could prepare him for the way he looks now. Like a battered wife.
He has a black eye and no idea how he got it, a huge purple bruise over his ribcage, which is already turning yellow at the edges, grazes on his knees and elbows, black bruises spattered all over his skin and—Lex turns around and looks over his shoulder, wincing at the sight—trails of dried blood from his ass all the way down both thighs. Fuck.
His cock feels raw. He’s lightheaded. He’s afraid of what will happen when Clark wakes up. Will he be back to normal? And if so, what then? Clark will never forgive himself for what he put Lex through. The situation is far from ideal.
The shower--which he can only bear to have lukewarm and even then it stings when the spray hits the various scrapes and grazes on his body--has a calming effect on him and God, it’s good to be clean again. Flashes of the night (the day?) punch into his consciousness with alarming relentlessness.
… Fucking Clark in front of the mirror until they both came and it was so intense that Lex fell over afterwards but fortuitously didn’t land on his ass because Clark caught him in time, then carried him back to the bed. And wouldn’t stop.
Lex does remember begging now…
He gingerly wraps a towel around himself and walks back into the bedroom. He’s not the type to put off the inevitable and he has to face Clark sooner or later.
As expected Clark is awake and sitting up, sheet pooled around his lap modestly, and as Lex approaches, his look of apprehension turns into full blown horror.
“Oh God,” he whispers, eyes roving all over Lex’s battered body.
“I’m okay, Clark,” he lies.
“What did I do what did I do what did I do…”
Clark jumps out of bed and hurries over to Lex but doesn’t touch him. Just stands in front of him and studies Lex’s bruises, utterly mortified.
Lex wants to lie down again, but not until the sheets have been changed. He’s starting to feel dizzy. He looks up into Clark’s face, trying to steady himself. Why is Clark swaying?
He’s blurry… there’s two of him… two Clarks…three Clarks… why is it so dark in here…?
Lex wakes up and he’s staring at the ceiling. He’s back on the bed. Okay. And the sheets are fresh. He blinks several times, trying to clear his mind a little, get a sense of the pain he’s in. But there’s no headache; not yet anyway. And his body feels mostly numb, the haze of sleep still anaesthetizing him, or perhaps he’s been out for so long his wounds have healed.
He turns his head slightly and sees Clark sitting on the bed, fully dressed and staring at him with a worried expression on his face.
“Clark,” he croaks out. He needs a drink of water, and the thought of that makes him realize that he hasn’t eaten anything for a long, long time.
The next thing he knows, Clark is kneeling beside the bed, right next to him and he has a glass of water in his hand. Gently, Clark puts a palm under Lex’s head and lifts it up a little, and he’s about to pour water into Lex’s mouth when Lex brings his hand up and catches Clark’s arm.
“I can do it,” he says, sitting up and taking the water off Clark. He gulps it down greedily and Clark takes the empty glass from him and sets it on the bedside table.
Lex stretches a little, trying to gauge where his injuries are the worst and apart from a slight pain in his ass and tenderness around his ribs, he doesn’t feel too bad.
“How long was I out for?” he asks Clark, who still looks like he wants to kill himself.
“About ten hours,” Clark replies.
“You’ve been here the whole time?”
Lex supposes they need to have a conversation but he hasn’t the slightest clue what to say. ‘Thanks for nearly fucking me to death, Clark. You can go now’? Perhaps not.
“Lex. I’m so sorry,” Clark blurts out, voice full of anguish. Lex smiles a little.
“You weren’t yourself, Clark,” Lex says generously. “It must be some kind of alien thing,” and at least Clark has the grace to look sheepish.
“It’s never happened before. I really hope it doesn’t happen again.”
“Me too. I’m not sure anyone else would survive you in heat, Clark. It’s just fortunate that I was the one you ran into yesterday.” He’s fishing a little, he knows it, but Lex needs to hear it from Clark. Was it just about his freaky biology, or… Christ. He can’t even ask himself the question.
Clark stares at him for a while and Lex is about to roll his eyes to the ceiling and possibly burst into tears because goddammit, why is this his life? He just got fucked to the point of no return by an alien who he’s been in love with for years and he still can’t get a straight answer out of him. Not that he’s willing to ask a straight question, of course. Lex wishes he’d never met Clark in that moment. Wishes that he could fall back asleep and maybe never wake up again.
“Lex,” Clark says, his voice so gentle it cuts into Lex’s heart. “I’m glad it was you too.”
How is Lex meant to respond to that?
Why are you glad, Clark? Because I heal fast? Because you’d rather hurt me than Chloe? Or Lana?
“You should go,” Lex says evenly, but instead of leaving, Clark climbs up onto the bed next to Lex and carefully presses his body into Lex’s side, sliding his arm over Lex’s waist and burying his mouth into Lex’s neck.
Lex wants to cry. “What are you doing to me?” he whispers.
In a millisecond, Clark is naked again and wrapped around Lex, holding him close, the duvet over both of them in their own cocoon.
“I want to be with you,” Clark says softly, simply. “I chose you because you’re the one I want to be with. You idiot.”
Lex turns his head and looks into Clark’s eyes. Lets himself be kissed and it’s sweet and sexless and perfect.
Lex loves Clark but he doesn’t want to have sex with him again. Not until after they’ve eaten and slept some more and made out like teenagers for a long, long time.
Which is exactly what they do.