Kate (mskatej) wrote,

  • Mood:

Fic: Intruder 1/2

Title: Intruder
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Lex/Clark, Lex/Lana
Word count: 16,810
Spoilers: Zod
Notes: This story is based on the assumption that Lex remembers his experience as Zod and knows about Clark and Krypton etc. No pregnancy or proposal happened. I'd like to dedicate this to roxymissrose because I promised her porn for her birthday and never delivered. Happy belated birthday, Roxy!
Acknowledgements: I don’t even know where to start when it comes to thanking my amazing beta, bop_radar. She read the first draft of this story and sent me five pages of notes on how it needed to be rewritten. She worked so hard on this and is an absolute legend and is completely responsible for this story making sense.
Summary: Clark is in heat. Chaos ensues.
Feedback: I live for feedback.

Intruder, by Kate


Oh no. This can’t be happening. Clark grips the edge of the sink as gently as he can and stares into the bathroom mirror, blinking the sweat out of his eyes and breathing hard. Why does this always have to take him by surprise? Why does it always happen when the weather is hot and when he has more important things to do? Why can’t he be normal, dammit? What if Chloe needs him in Metropolis? What if Lois gets herself in some kind of jam that only Clark can get her out of? There is no way he can see either of them right now.

Based on past experience, he’s facing at least seven more days of this and it always gets worse as it goes on. Currently he’s hot, dripping with sweat, and hard, but he should feel a little better after a shower.

It’s not often Clark gets like this. Normally sex is the last thing on his mind, but twice a year or so for the past four years, he goes through a week of torturous sexual cravings and it’s difficult for him to think of anything else. He found it upsetting and embarrassing the first few times, hiding away from people as much as possible, and hating himself for not being able to control the perverse and often disturbing fantasies he’d have, but then he decided it might be a smart idea to stop feeling sorry for himself and just try to get on with things.

This means staying away from the people he’s most attracted to for the week and taking a lot of cold showers. He tries to resist the temptation to masturbate, but he usually only lasts a few days before he gives in. It’s become a challenge – every time he goes through this he attempts to last a little bit longer without touching himself than he did the time before.

He stays under the shower for twenty minutes then gets dressed slowly. By the time he makes it downstairs his entire body is buzzing with sexual energy again. He’ll spend the entire day today doing chores and he’ll get a lot done too. He’ll have about five showers.

The fantasies will kick in at about four this afternoon.

“Clark, would you run to the Talon for me and pick up some coffee beans?” his mother asks him later that morning as he determinedly throws hay about the barn.

Clark gulps. “What?”

“Can you please run to the Talon for me and pick up some coffee beans,” she repeats patiently.

There’ll be people at the Talon. Attractive people, knowing Clark’s luck. “Now?”

“Sometime today thanks Clark.”

Why can’t she go to the Talon? Why does he have to do everything? “Okay.”

She smiles at him warmly and Clark follows her into the house, heads upstairs and jumps in the shower again.



Lana trails her fingers over the shiny deep green hood of her new Miata and smiles at the way the sun bounces off it and onto her face, pleasantly warming her cheeks and forehead. She slips inside the slinky vehicle and shuts the door behind her, breathing in the comforting smell of the slightly perfumed upholstery with a contented smile.

She hadn’t had her own car in well over a year, but when constantly borrowing Lex’s cars began to get on her nerves a few months ago she decided it was time to splash out. The bank was only too willing to loan Lana the money she needed, and she knows it’s because they knew she didn’t really need it. But it was important to her to buy this car herself and she loves it almost as much as she loves her boyfriend.

She turns on the ignition and smiles again, because she likes the way this car sounds: dirtier, cheaper, friendlier than the Porsche or the Mercedes or the Ferrari. It reminds her of being poor in the country; a time she thinks of fondly now, even though she doesn’t miss it.

The building she lives in has a large underground parking garage, but she never uses it, because her neighborhood is so pretty and clean and she likes the way her car – by far the cheapest one parked on the block – looks outside, sparkling in the afternoon sunlight. She loves the big sidewalks lined with trees, and the brownstone apartments, and knowing that she has this place to come home to after her weekend with Lex is over.

No one who knows Lana understands why she’s with a man like Lex Luthor. All they see is a cold, ruthless, weird-looking businessman with too much money. He’s not considered a good person by the general public, or even by the people who personally know him, and while Lana knows better than anyone that “good” isn’t a description that necessarily fits, she also knows that “great” is.

He’s extraordinary in so many ways, and that’s more important to Lana than his dark side, although she understands that too. Because she shares it. She sees part of herself in Lex, she knows what living with darkness is like, and that’s why she’s the only person who can help him.

Driving a little too fast is a habit she picked up from Lex, and the feeling of the warm wind blowing through her hair as she races through the outskirts of Metropolis and into the dusky orange countryside, Smallville bound, makes her laugh out loud.

She turns up the radio and sings along loudly to Jennifer Rush’s version of The Power Of Love.

Power, as it turns out, is an aphrodisiac and Lana’s no more immune to it than anyone else; she’s a woman first, a humanist second. But that doesn’t matter because she keeps Lex good; he’s not the only one with power. Lex is honest with her about everything, even the shadier stuff that he really shouldn’t be sharing with her, but which he understands she needs to know about if she’s to stay with him. It’s her bargaining chip: if he doesn’t keep her fully informed, she’s gone.

He doesn’t realize that she can’t imagine ever leaving now, even if he were to start keeping secrets. She’s hooked on Lex in a way that took her completely by surprise.

They’ve been happy together since the beginning of their relationship, eight months ago; happy in a way Lana hadn’t thought possible. He’s both difficult and easy to be with. Difficult because she needs to constantly work at keeping Lex both happy and virtuous; easy because she succeeds.

There were rocky patches at the start, but things improved when Lana moved back to Metropolis part time. She’s still at the mansion four nights out of seven, but on Mondays she heads to the city and lives her other life. She resides in an apartment owned by Lex. It’s beautiful and far too large, and she still hasn’t had the nerve to invite her friends from college over. Lana dreads the questions they might ask. Chloe hangs out there sometimes, but she’s the only guest Lana ever entertains, because she doesn’t have to explain anything to Chloe.

She hadn’t meant for things to turn out like that. Lana recalls the arguments she had with Lex over where she would and wouldn’t be prepared to live, and even though it itches a little that Lex eventually won those arguments, she finds it hard to be too concerned about it when she’s relaxing in her porcelain hot tub on a Tuesday night with a glass of champagne in her hand.

Okay, so being with Lex has changed her. But for better or worse she loves him with all her heart.

On Thursdays, late in the afternoon, she drives back to Smallville to see Lex, just as she’s doing now. She looks forward to it all week: the time when she’ll get to see his smile, hear him talk, make him laugh. She’ll get to smell him and touch him and kiss him and fuck him.

Their relationship is as healthy as any other she knows of. It’s not perfect, because no relationship is, but as far as she’s concerned the only thing that really matters is that they love each other.

She can only think of one thing that would make it better: not having to constantly risk running into Clark whenever she’s in Smallville.

It’s quiet and warm there tonight, and she cruises slowly through the peaceful streets, smiling and waving at any locals she recognizes and getting hesitant smiles or cautious waves in return. That’s alright though. She’s become accustomed to the drawbacks that come with being Lex Luthor’s significant other.

They don’t compare to the perks.


Lana moves on top of him enthusiastically, grunting with pleasure, shiny with sweat, prettier than all the other girls he’s known. Lex loves her in this moment, like he’s never loved anyone else. No one is as connected to him as Lana is, and she knows it, and she needs it, and that makes Lex feel stupidly victorious.

He won her unfair and unsquare, but when she cries out and slams her body down onto him, coming all around him, he doesn’t feel concerned about that in the least.

It only bothers him when he acknowledges the one thing that stops his relationship with Lana from being perfect: she loves Clark more than she loves Lex.

Loved, loves, will always love.

Sometimes Lex feels like yelling at her. Get over it. Get the fuck over it. It wasn’t as if things with Clark were ever good. It wasn’t as if they’d had sex more than twice. It wasn’t as if Clark had told her the truth about himself, or that he hadn’t lied to her face for years, or that he’d not repeatedly let her down. There was no relationship. There’s nothing to mourn.

Yet she does. And it sometimes shows. And it makes Lex want to hurt her.

But those moments are rare and it helps that the only emotion he can conjure up with regards to Clark these days is disdain. Even though he still acknowledges to himself that the rewards for being Clark’s friend were far greater than the punishments. He got Lana, after all, which wouldn’t have been possible without Clark. He got… many, many things.

He’s a lucky man. Lana’s slick skin and drooping eyelids are easy to concentrate on and effective at sending Lex over the edge into orgasm.

They only slump together for a few seconds before Lex peels off the condom, knots it at the top, and walks it over to the wastebasket in the corner of the room. He drops it in and stares at it. Someone else will empty that bin tomorrow, and they’ll see a sperm-filled condom that belongs to their intimidating employer, and they’ll be forced to imagine him having sex.

Cuddling afterwards is a comforting habit that lasts only until Lana drifts into sleep. Then she rolls away from him, curls up and dozes off.

Lex sometimes watches her, his heart full of wonder at her beauty, his possessiveness sometimes overwhelming. They’ve been together a long time now and it’s the best relationship Lex has ever had. He’ll propose to her soon and he’s certain she’ll say yes.

The ring he bought five months ago is locked up in the top draw of his desk, waiting for him, waiting for the right time. Soon…

They wake up in the morning and go about their symbiotic rituals of showers and coffee and reading the paper. Lana has toast for breakfast. Lex has nothing. They barely speak because they’ve known each other long enough not to need to anymore.

Lana jumps in her cute little car and heads off to Metropolis every Monday, and Lex won’t see her again until Thursday night. In the fours days preceding their next meeting, he’ll miss her terribly at night but during the day he’ll keep himself busy.

His time away from Lana is precious because it means he can concentrate on work she knows nothing about.

Lex has been studying and utilizing the meteor rocks – kryptonite – for years. Until about seven months ago he hadn’t spent much time working in the labs; he always had staff to do the work for him. But now he can’t seem to stay away. He’s there every day, in his private lead-lined lab in the basement of his mansion.

Every day except Friday, Saturday and Sunday, when Lana’s around.


A balmy Sunday afternoon leads Lex and Lana to the Talon for some coffee and blueberry muffins. The café is lively and Lex is in high spirits. He orders their coffees and sits down next to Lana with his back to the wall so he can people-watch.

“Oh great,” she mutters when Clark walks in; flannel-clad and tall as ever, a slightly vacant expression on his face. This expression changes to one of discomfort the moment he sets eyes on them.

“Be nice,” Lex murmurs, smiling slightly up at Clark as he slowly passes their table.

“Hi,” Clark says quickly, his eyes flitting from Lana to Lex, Lana to Lex, but he doesn’t stop.

“Hi,” Lana says in a monotone. Lex knows her entire reaction to Clark’s presence is for his benefit, because there’s no way she’s indifferent to Clark. It irritates Lex that she pretends to be, and that she thinks he can’t tell that she’s full of shit.

She still wants Clark and Clark still wants Lana, and why is Lex’s jealousy getting worse the longer he’s with her? It wasn’t like this in the beginning.

It was easier then. He felt more secure.

Clark wasn’t a factor the way he is now. Yes, Clark was a factor. Of course he was a factor. But Lex had genuinely wanted Lana, – he’d always wanted her - he’d felt worthy of Lana, and he knew he would be a better partner for Lana, and taking her from Clark had been the perfect icing.

The icing had seeped into the cake though, over the months, and sometimes it’s all Lex can taste.

Clark’s there, always there, in the back of Lana’s mind, in the fucking coffee shop, on the streets of Smallville, still helping people compulsively, and being ridiculously indiscreet about his powers, although no one ever seems to notice.

Their truce is an uneasy one, to put it mildly.

Thankfully Clark keeps his distance as much as possible, since Clark is terrified that Lex will spill the beans to someone scarier than Lex (or to Lana). He seems to think that one wrong step will cause Lex to turn around and cheerfully impart the entire truth of Clark’s existence to the Inquisitor.

Which works very nicely for Lex, because it means Clark is much less vigilant than he used to be when it comes to snooping around Lex’s business affairs. Little does Clark know that Lex has no intention of revealing Clark’s secrets to anyone, ever. Lex will never allow anyone other than himself to have power over Clark, and there’s not a thing Clark could say or do that will change that.

Clark’s standing up at the counter, waiting awkwardly for his coffee, and Lex watches him and listens to Lana bitching, wondering if Clark’s listening too.

“I hope he leaves once he’s got his drink. I’m not in the mood to talk to him today.”

“Why not?”

“Because he always acts so… when we’re together.”

Lex feels unreasonably annoyed about the incompleteness of that sentence. “I don’t think seeing us together will ever be easy for him.”

“But why does he have to make it difficult for us? Like he wants us to feel bad about being in a healthy, happy relationship.”

Lana didn’t used to express her discontent about Clark’s discontent; it’s been a relatively recent development and it does nothing for Lex’s paranoia.

“Just don’t let it get to you,” he says. “I don’t.”

Clark slips past them and Lex catches a quiet “bye” and then he’s opening the door and gone.

Lana sighs with relief. “Oh, thank God.”

Lex feels like slapping her.


On Tuesday Lex exits his lab at two in the morning. He doesn’t usually stay down there so late and he’s barely seen daylight since Lana left the mansion yesterday morning, but at least the work has stopped him thinking about Lana’s fixation with Clark.

He jumps in the shower and scrubs himself raw.

Tomorrow he’ll go and talk to Clark and try to gauge how Clark is feeling about Lana. Lex needs to find out once and for all if this could turn into a problem.


Clark walks into the barn, blinking and sweating. He walks purposefully up the stairs , retrieves the box he has hidden under the couch and sets it down on the table.

It’s nine o’clock on Wednesday evening; he’s broken his record. Four extremely difficult days without masturbating, but now it’s time to start enjoying himself. He plans to spend the entire night up here with his box of toys. His mom’s in Metropolis with Lionel for the evening, so he’s got the entire farm to himself. He plans to orgasm several times – they’re always amazingly intense when he’s like this and God, he can’t wait.

He’s close to the edge already and he wants to keep it simple and sensual for now. He rifles around in the box, pushing aside a couple of magazines, some loose photos, an empty wine bottle. He pulls out a bottle of baby oil and a small box of tissues, then sets them on the table and pushes the box back under the couch.

He removes his clothes methodically, leaving them on the floor, and lies on the couch, naked.

He pours oil all over his chest and starts smoothing it into his skin, over his stomach and hips and inner thighs, sighing in relief. He holds off touching his cock for as long as he can stand it, but when he finally gives in and starts stroking the stiff length, he throws his head back and lets a fantasy take hold of his imagination.

Images of Lana and Lex in the Talon on Sunday flit through his mind, and he tries to fling them out but they’re persistent, and they quickly become X-rated.

Lana bent over the table in the crowded café with her skirt hiked up over her ass, wearing no underwear.

Lex is behind Lana, pants around his ankles, thrusting inside. Why Lex appears in Clark’s fantasies when he’s like this is a mystery to Clark, especially now that Clark barely even likes the guy. A few years ago it was more understandable because they were closer, but now it’s just weird. Still, he’s learnt to let his hormones be the boss, and if they want him to think about Lex having sex, that’s what he’ll do.

Everyone’s watching Lex fucking Lana, but it just turns them on more and makes Lex push in harder, moan louder. Clark walks up behind Lex and fondles his moving ass, before ripping open his own fly and pulling himself out.


Clark’s eyes fly open and he jerks his head around towards the voice, blinking at the stunned face of Lex, who’s standing at the top of the stairs, gaping at Clark.

“Lex,” he gasps, halting his wrist but keeping a firm grip on himself. He’s clutching the top of the couch with his free hand, panting, and far too close to coming to be able to feel anything other than sexual excitement. “Sorry. Oh God.” He shuts his eyes and strokes himself a couple more times. “I can’t—”

He looks back over and Lex seems to be frozen to the spot, his eyes flickering all over Clark’s body like he can’t control them.

“Oh God, help me,” Clark whimpers and as Lex moves closer, Clark’s nostrils are suddenly filled with the potent scent of Lex’s arousal.

Lex is standing next to Clark now, gazing down at him; the tension written on his face looks pornographic.

“What’s going on?” Lex asks quietly, eyes fixed on Clark’s cock.

“I don’t- I can’t-” Clark arches his back and pushes his groin towards Lex. “I sometimes get like this. Oh God. Please touch me.”

Lex breathes noisily through his nose and doesn’t move for a long time. He just studies Clark’s body carefully and licks his lips.

Then he kneels down beside the couch and Clark takes his hand off himself, shaking with need.

Lex reaches out and slides his hands down Clark’s oily chest and belly and it makes Clark almost weep with pleasure.

“Thank you,” he sings blissfully, closing his eyes.

But Lex is a tease. He pours more oil onto Clark and rubs it into him, everywhere except his cock. Shoulders, biceps, forearms. Chest and ribcage. Up and down his calves and thighs, hips and waist. His inner thighs when Clark spreads his legs and pushes his hips up again in an attempt to encourage Lex to move his hand where Clark really wants it.

He stares down at his straining erection, the pink, exposed head, swollen and shiny, desperate for touch.

“How often do you get like this, Clark?”

“Not often. Please Lex.”

Lex breathes out a smile but still keeps his hands at a respectable distance from Clark’s dick. That is, until Clark grabs one of them and forces it onto himself, holding it, holding it there, and crying out in ecstasy when Lex starts to stroke.

“Shh,” Lex hushes. “Just relax and enjoy it, Clark.”

Clark feels himself nodding at that insightful piece of advice, and they find a deliciously slow rhythm together, Lex twisting his wrist with each upward caress and occasionally swiping his thumb over the distended head of Clark’s penis.

He can’t hear anything except the pounding of his own heart and Lex’s increasingly noisy breathing. He can’t smell anything except baby oil and lust, and he can’t see anything except Lex’s rapt face, his eyes currently glued on the cock in his pumping fist.

The first wave of Clark’s orgasm is severe, the come splashing out onto his belly extensive. And it keeps on going.

Wave after wave, increasing in intensity each time, jet after jet, going all over him and saturating Lex’s hand and fingers.

It feels like he might never stop shuddering, like he’ll never come down.

High as a kite and mind too foggy to comprehend what he’s doing even though he knows it’s wrong, Clark reaches out towards Lex, desperately wanting to touch him. But Lex stands up and backs away from him quickly, staring down at Clark, eyes wide with shock.

“I have to go,” he says slowly.

Clark focuses his gaze on the tented crotch of Lex’s pants. “Do you want me to—”

“No. Thanks. I have to go.” Lex turns around and walks out, leaving Clark on the couch, covered in semen, very confused, wondering what the hell he can possibly do to fix this.

Lex just… made him come. And it was the best orgasm he’s ever had.


Lex spends the drive back to the mansion forcing himself to think unsexy thoughts, which takes every ounce of willpower he has inside him, and his erection still isn’t entirely gone by the time he reaches the mansion.

That was… an interesting experience. In recent years his fantasies about Clark have tended to be more about strapping him to a table and performing experiments on him than anything sexual, but beggars can’t be choosers. And seeing Clark orgasm was an experience beyond his wildest dreams. Alien orgasms are several times more intense than human orgasms, Lex notes with an intoxicating combination of envy and excitement coursing through his veins. It was worth it just to see that.

Otherwise, it didn’t mean anything.

He taps the code into the keypad next to the door of his lab. The numbers he chose for this particular password are significant, especially now: they’re the date he and Clark first met.

He wanders around inside the lab, looking at the things he’s created, fingering them lovingly, admiring his work, yet strangely unmotivated to do any work for the first time in several months.

Still, here is the place he can hide: from the outside world and from any feelings of remorse. Lex finds the murky blue lighting in here comforting, and as he fiddles with his latest contraption he contemplates the way his life has changed since he discovered Clark’s… “secret”.

Waking up in the hospital and suddenly knowing everything he’d always wanted to know had been a surprisingly disturbing experience, and the only way he knew how to deal with it was to lie to everyone. To pretend he remembered nothing of his experience as Zod’s vessel. It was all still so clear in his mind and yet no one in the world had realized he could remember it. Not even Clark.


Lex finally admitted the truth to Clark six months ago, after a petty argument about one of Lexcorp’s more dangerous projects. Clark lost his temper.

“You told Lana, didn’t you! And you’re going to tell the press unless I do what you want!” he’d shouted.

“I haven’t told Lana, Clark.” His smile had been so very smug. “Yet.”

“What do you want, Lex?”

“I want you to stay out of my affairs!” Lex had laughed out. Surely that was obvious! “As long as you do that, your secret is safe with me.”

“Stop breaking the law and I’ll be happy to stay out of your affairs.”

“Seeya, Clark.” Lex walked away from him then, brushing past him with a grin on his face and a triumphant swagger in his step.

Clark has backed off considerably since then, oblivious to the fact that Lex’s obsession with him had returned in full force after Zod. From a purely scientific perspective, of course, Clark is as important to Lex as he ever was.

And what happened today did nothing to change that fact. He shouldn’t have done it, it’s true, but it’s not as though it will ever happen again. And it’s not as though Lana will ever find out.

The idea of Lana finding out hits him hard and he shakes his head vigorously to purge it from his mind.

It’s time to go to bed…


Clark walks into Lex’s mansion at midday the next day in something of a daze. He hasn’t really planned anything but he knows he needs to tell Lex he’s sorry and that what happened doesn’t mean anything. Clark isn’t interested in ruining Lex’s relationship with Lana and he’s well aware that the way he’s feeling has nothing to do with anything genuine. It’s his stupid alien hormones at work and he can fight this. He has to.

Lex is in his office, sitting at his desk. He looks up when Clark enters the room, snaps his laptop shut, and stares into Clark’s eyes as he approaches him.

Then he stands up and walks around the desk and the two of them face each other, standing slightly too close together and Lex is looking away now, his jaw clenched and a very serious expression on his face.

“What are you doing here?” Lex asks softly.

“I wanted to apologize. For yesterday,” Clark replies, voice equally soft.

Lex drags his front teeth over his bottom lip. “There’s no need.”

“I know. But I wanted you to hear it from me.” Clark reaches out and runs his hand down Lex’s arm. “I’m sorry. It was my fault. You didn’t do anything wrong, and I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

Lex nods. “Thanks.” Then he looks up at Clark. “Are you still…?”

Clark swallows and smiles coyly. “Yeah,” he sheepishly admits. “It usually lasts about a week.”

“Ah.” Lex isn’t moving an inch, so Clark is forced to shuffle a little closer. But he’s stopped from getting as close as he wants to by a flattened palm in the middle of his chest. “Clark. I can’t.”

“I know!” Clark exclaims, offended by Lex’s presumption. “I just wanted to say sorry!”

But Lex’s hand is still pressed into his chest and he’s not taking it away.

“It’s a really bad idea,” Clark murmurs. He can hear Lex breathing; he can smell Lex, and it’s driving him crazy. So he reaches out with one hand and grabs Lex by the waist, squeezing it gently and gasping a little.

“Clark, you need to go. Now.” Lex’s tone has some urgency in it, as if he’s trying to tell Clark that if he doesn’t leave right now, something will happen between them. This does not convince Clark of the merits of leaving.

“Okay,” he says, moving forward a little more, tilting his head towards Lex’s, silently begging for a kiss.

“Fuck.” Lex grabs the side of Clark’s neck and digs his fingers in, looks down and pushes the top of his head into Clark’s chest. Clark wraps his arms around Lex and slides a hand down over Lex’s ass, pulling him in closer so Lex is forced to look up. He lands a hard kiss on Lex’s open mouth.

It gets hot and uncompromising instantly, both sucking and groping and grinding against each other, until Lex pushes Clark off him and holds him away at arm’s length, his hand back on Clark’s chest.

“Wait,” he pants. “Wait.” Lex manoeuvres Clark around until he’s leaning on the edge of the desk, and looks Clark dead in the eye. Clark undoes the top button on his jeans and pulls down his fly, which makes Lex furrow his brow in aroused frustration and laugh helplessly.

Then Lex falls to his knees.

Clark pushes his jeans and boxers down and holds his cock in his hand, powerless to do anything other than point it towards Lex and watch in awe, as Lex pulls Clark’s hand away, replaces it with his own, then sucks the head of Clark’s cock into his mouth, gripping Clark’s thigh with his other hand. Pink lips stretching around him, smooth cheeks hollowing, wet tongue tasting and swirling; it’s the sexiest experience of Clark’s life.

Lex’s head sinks slowly down, working his mouth around Clark’s dick, taking as much of it inside himself as he can manage, and the back of Lex’s throat is soft and moist and the sight of Lex is…

Clark’s hips are starting to move of their own accord, thrusting forward to meet Lex stroke for stroke. His groans are constant now, his orgasm imminent.

If possible, it’s more intense today than it was yesterday, and seeing Lex gulp him down, throat moving as he swallows and swallows, so much come, so much of Clark’s pleasure…

When it’s over, Lex wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and stands up. Clark moves to grab him again, but Lex backs away and stands just beyond Clark’s reach. “You have to go now,” he says, a note of disbelief in his voice.

“I want to touch you.”

“Get out!” Lex shouts, and even though Clark is agonizingly aware of Lex’s unattended-to erection, he doesn’t really know how to argue with him. So he zips himself up and hovers in front of Lex for a few seconds, vaguely hoping for a change of heart, but guessing he’s not going to get one.

“Can I come over tomorrow?” he asks.

Lex stares at him like he’s crazy. “What?” He shakes his head incredulously. “Lana’s going to be here in a few hours. And she’ll be here until Monday morning. So no. You cannot ‘come over’ tomorrow.”


“No buts, Clark. Get the hell out of here.” Lex turns away from Clark and places his hands on the edge of the desk, arms outstretched, bent over, breathing heavily.

It makes Clark feel uncomfortable enough to leave. Lex obviously isn’t dealing with this very well and Clark clearly isn’t being helpful, so he shrugs awkwardly and offers Lex the only information he currently has stored in his head. “I’ll be in the barn all afternoon if you change your mind.”

Then he leaves, feeling stupid and unfulfilled.


Lana is sitting on the couch next to Lex, absorbed in an unbelievably boring reality TV program about an arrogant, overweight nanny who treats children like animals and their parents like the brainless fools they are. He’s got his arm around Lana’s shoulder and her head is nestled in his armpit. He’s lightly stroking her shoulder with his fingers.

She’ll expect to have sex with him in a few hours, which is normally the thing Lex looks forward to most on a Thursday. But tonight he’s… dreading it. How can he kiss her? How can he put his tongue in her mouth after where it’s been?


And then there’s Clark. Who openly wants to screw Lex through the floor, and who Lex can’t seem to resist. Not terribly surprising, but deeply inconvenient. Clark said this thing he’s going through doesn’t last long, so by the time Lex sees him again, things will be back to normal, and all they’ll be left with is the memory of their indiscretions, and a whole lot of guilt.

He can last until Monday before seeing Clark again, and then they’ll talk and Clark will apologize and actually mean it this time, and they’ll agree to pretend it never happened.

Yet it’s extremely difficult to purge the image of Clark’s naked body from his mind. He stops paying attention to the TV entirely and lets his eyes fall shut, and he gets hard within seconds as he remembers the expression on Clark’s face while his cock was in Lex’s mouth.

He reaches over, grabs Lana’s hand, and pushes it down onto his erection. Having sex suddenly feels like a very good idea.

She responds straight away, rubbing him through his pants and curling herself around so they can kiss. But Lex avoids her mouth and plants his own on her neck, digging his teeth in gently and sucking.

“We need a condom,” Lex whispers into her throat, as Lana straddles him and starts to grind. Thank fuck she’s wearing a skirt.

“You’re in luck,” she replies teasingly. “I have one in my purse.” She leans back in his lap and stretches one arm out behind her, grabbing her bag off the coffee table and holding it between them. Lex stares at her hands as they rifle around inside, and thrusts his hips up in excitement at the sight of the shiny red wrapper.

He unzips himself and pulls out his cock then takes the condom from Lana and rips open the wrapper with his teeth. “Take off your panties,” he commands breathlessly as he rolls the rubber down over his hot rigid flesh. Lana moves off him and peels off her underwear hastily, then she’s back astride his lap and sighing happily as she slides down onto his cock, not stopping until he’s completely encased.

They fuck for a while in that position, until Lana comes, and then Lex lifts her off him and arranges her so she’s on her hands and knees, her skirt hiked up around her waist, her ass in the air, and he plunges in again.

He keeps his eyes closed and his mouth open, and he grunts with each hard thrust in, trying to concentrate only on the sensations, forget about everything else.

Clark coming in his mouth…

Lex shudders and climaxes to that memory, then pulls himself out and swiftly backs away from Lana, until the arm of the couch is digging into his back. He’s panting loudly, suddenly afraid of touching her.

But Lana crawls over and wraps herself around him, sated and sleepy. “Let’s go to bed,” she says dozily.

“You go up. I’ll be there in a little while. There’s some work I need to finish.”

“Oh,” she says, frowning. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he replies quickly. “I’ll be up soon.” Get out. He can’t seem to behave normally which is alarming him, because how can she not notice? She’s going to guess, she’s going to know what he did.

But Lana collects her things together; purse and underwear, and heads out of the room without further protest. Lex lets out the breath he was holding once the door shuts behind her.

Fuck fuck fuck.

What the fuck is he doing?

He goes into his office, sits at his desk, and stares at the surface of it numbly for about an hour, before pulling himself together and going upstairs. Lana is fast asleep when he slips into bed beside her.


In the morning he tells her that he has a lot of work to do, and she just smiles and says, “Same here,” then settles down on the couch in his office with her laptop. They’ve worked side by side, each immersed in their own world, many times before, which is probably why Lana didn’t get the hint, but Lex only makes it until one o’clock before he’s forced to admit that he will almost certainly have a nervous breakdown if he doesn’t get the hell away from her immediately.

“Something’s come up at the plant,” he tells her, staring at his computer screen with a concerned expression, then looking over at Lana gravely. “I have to go out for a while. Will you be okay here?”

Lana glances up at him, then turns her eyes back to the screen in front of her. “Yep,” she says, not in any way suspicious.

He doesn’t kiss her goodbye and she doesn’t seem to notice.

Lex climbs into his Ferrari and grips the steering wheel tightly, breathing deeply until he’s something approximating calm again. He pulls out of the garage, screeches down the driveway and out into the road.

He drives aimlessly for twenty minutes and he talks to himself.

“Come on, Lex. Pull yourself together. You have an incredible girlfriend who loves and trusts you. Go and be with her.”

Then he stares at his reflection in the rear view mirror pityingly. Great. Now he’s talking to himself. He pulls the car over to the side of the road and lets his forehead fall onto the top of the steering wheel.

He badly wants to see Clark, but it’s out of the question. If he goes to the farm they’ll… He can’t keep doing that to Lana.

Then again, this might be the only chance he gets and something tells him he’d regret it if he didn’t take it.

One more time. Just one more time. And then he’ll avoid Clark for as long as it takes him to get over this.

Decision made, he starts the engine again, pulls out into the street, and drives to Clark’s house.


Clark is in the loft, sitting on the couch wearing jeans but no t-shirt, his legs spread, his head thrown back, sweat glistening all over his chest and face, eyes closed, panting. He jerks his head forward when he hears that Lex is there, at the top of the stairs, and he leaps up, relief and desire written all over his face.

There’s no point talking about it this time, so Lex surges forward at the same time Clark does, into his arms, and they kiss like they want to crawl inside each other’s mouths. Clark tears Lex’s shirt off him, flings it aside and starts hungrily licking and sucking and kissing his chest and neck.

They break apart momentarily to strip, then they’re back in each others arms, naked together finally, Clark whispering urgently into his ear, “I was waiting for you. I knew you’d come. Thank God you came.”

“God had nothing to do with it,” Lex gasps back as Clark lifts him up and carries him to the couch, Lex’s legs wrapped around his waist.

Moments later, Lex is lying on his back on the couch, with Clark kneeling between his bent, spread legs. Clark rubs oil into his cock, then dribbles a generous amount of it all over Lex’s balls and down between his ass cheeks. Fingers slide there next, over his asshole again and again, then Clark pushes one inside.

“Oh fuck,” Clark breathes out. “Fuck.”

“Hell yes,” Lex laughs. “Yes.”

Clark takes his finger out and sucks it into his mouth sloppily. He pulls it out with a noisy slurp and takes hold of his cock, then he angles his body so he can push himself into the space where his finger had been. He keeps gasping as he slides in deeper, as Lex stretches around him, and then Clark’s all the way inside and both of them are shuddering. It’s been so long since he’s had a dick inside him Lex had forgotten how much he enjoys it.

The sensations he’s feeling are overwhelming; it’s as if he’s never really experienced sex before. What sex should be like. Clark above him, inside him, their bodies joined together, tongues and lips and mouths and teeth, licking and kissing, sucking and biting. Lex digs his heels into Clark’s back, and groans loudly each time the head of Clark’s cock hits his prostate.

Clark shouts out his moans as he starts to come.

Another of those incredible endless alien orgasms that go on for so long Lex isn’t sure how Clark even survives them. Lex is jacking his own cock, fast and hard, and he starts to come too, so intense he can’t stop himself from sobbing.

Eventually it stops and Clark collapses onto Lex’s sticky torso, his cock still inside Lex, his mouth open and wet, planted on Lex’s neck. Clark is heavy.

“Clark, you’re crushing me,” Lex gasps.

“Oh! Sorry.” He pulls out, lifts himself off Lex and falls back, leaning against the opposite arm of the couch, looking dazed and too beautiful for words.

Lex picks himself up and starts looking for his clothes.

“What are you doing?” Clark asks with a frown.

“Getting dressed. Going home.”

Clark is staring at him, eyes full of hurt. “To Lana.”

“Yes. To my girlfriend, Clark. I shouldn’t have come over.” It’s not the nicest thing he’s ever said to Clark but he doesn’t feel like being nice.

“But you did come over.”

Lex nods. “I was wrong.”

“Fuck you,” Clark says unhappily, staring at his hands.

“What the hell do you want from me, Clark?” Lex retorts angrily. “You want me to break up with her?”

Clark screws his face up and refuses to look over at Lex. He doesn’t say anything.

“In a couple of days you won’t want to be anywhere near me. You’re in heat, Clark. I could be anyone.”

That makes Clark look over with injured eyes. “That’s not true,” he mutters.

“Yes. It is. I’m the one with everything to lose here, Clark. Not you. I was happy with Lana, dammit!”

“Go back to her then!” Clark shouts.

Lex picks up his tattered shirt off the floor and grimaces. “Can you lend me a shirt?” he asks dourly.

“Why should I?” Clark replies childishly.

“Lend me a fucking shirt, Clark. Jesus.”

Clark pulls a crumpled t-shirt out from between the cushions of the couch and chucks it at Lex, hitting him in the face. It smells like Clark.

He pulls it on and glares at Clark for a second, then he turns on his heel and walks out.


It’s a problem that Lex is wearing Clark’s t-shirt. Partly because the aroma of Clark’s sweat and sperm clinging to his body is making him pine, partly because he needs to get showered and changed without being spotted by Lana. Which shouldn’t be too difficult, but there’s always the possibility that he’ll run into her on his way to the bedroom, or coming out of the shower, and what will he say?

If she catches him in the t-shirt he’s screwed. There is no good reason on earth why Lex would be wearing this t-shirt, and for once he cannot think of a single plausible lie that could explain it. He imagines the look on her face, the furrowed brow, the questions. He imagines himself stumped and unable to offer her an explanation. He imagines himself concocting a story on the spot that sounds so ridiculous he may as well just break up with her right then and there because it’s over already. It’s over if she sees him in the t-shirt.

Why the hell doesn’t he keep a spare shirt in the car? Why wasn’t he angrier at Clark for destroying a shirt more expensive than the entire contents of Clark’s wardrobe?

His heart is pounding by the time he parks and climbs out of the car. He sneaks inside via a private entrance in the garage that only he knows about and he slips into the first bathroom he reaches and locks the door behind him. It’s fully stocked with expensive soaps and large clean towels, and Lex makes a mental note to give every member of his housekeeping staff a raise tomorrow.

He also decides he’s going to start hiding clean shirts around the house and in all his cars, because he’s not quite out of the woods yet. He still needs to make it to the bedroom, find a duplicate of the shirt he was wearing and then go face Lana.

Would getting caught be worse than spending the evening with her? Having to pretend that he hasn’t betrayed her? Three times already? Would it be worse than having to have sex with her again tonight?

He stares at his reflection in the mirror in his bedroom, dressed and looking the same as he had a few hours ago. He made it.

“You’re back!” Lana says in surprise, entering the bedroom.

Lex nearly has a heart attack.

“What are you doing in here?” She’s frowning in confusion.

“I thought I’d lost my watch,” he replies. “But I didn’t. Here it is.” Lex picks it up off the bedside table and puts it on without making eye contact.

God, he has never been so pathetic in his life. When did he forget how to lie convincingly?

“Oh. Okay,” she says slowly. “Lex…”

He looks up at her, innocently questioning. “Yeah?” He wants to blink but is afraid it’ll make him look guilty.

“Is everything alright? You’ve been acting…” she shakes her head and laughs. “I don’t know. Different or something.”

“Everything’s fine. Come here,” he holds out his arms and she accepts the invitation, laying her head on his chest.

“Mmmm. You always smell so good,” she murmurs.

Shit. He can’t do this.

A quick kiss on her forehead then he’s extracting himself. “Let’s go out,” he suggests, sounding a little too enthusiastic. “Anywhere you want.”

“Ooh!” Lana likes the idea. “Let’s go to that Japanese place you took me to right before we started dating.”


“It’ll be romantic,” she says, smiling at him warmly and leaning up for a kiss.

Lex kisses her on the mouth for the first time since… But he pulls away before she can deepen the kiss.

“Good idea,” he lies, walking back into the wardrobe and selecting a jacket to wear. “Let’s go.”

He can’t see her face as he walks out the bedroom door with Lana on his heels, but he knows she looks bewildered. His behavior is nothing short of insane at the moment, and the only comforting thing about any of this is that Lana would never guess in a million years what he did.

What he wants to keep doing.


Lana takes a bath after they get back from the restaurant and Lex takes the opportunity to sneak down to the lab.

This is what it’s about after all: his work here. And the closer he can get to Clark the more he can learn about him.

He keeps most of his kryptonite in a safe, because he’s seen the effects of extended kryptonite exposure all too often. Hell, he’s experienced the effects of extended and concentrated exposure first hand, so he’s careful, because each task he sets himself is time-consuming.

Each task that ends with Lex holding another weapon in his hand. A weapon specifically designed to kill a being whose only vulnerability is an allergy to kryptonite. A weapon that Lex has no intention of ever using, but which he is compelled beyond all reason to possess anyway.

Eight months of hard labor in the lab, four days a week, and Lex has amassed quite an impressive pile of guns and grenades and bombs and devices and deadly poisons.

That he won’t ever use.

His mind empties as he polishes his AK47, but for one thought: how does he avoid having sex with Lana tonight?


Clark calls him at eleven the next morning, just as he and Lana are about to head into town for some brunch. Lana stops walking and stands at the front door, watching him stare at the name on the screen of his phone.

Lex had got out of having sex last night by feigning a headache, of all things. She’d been very concerned and had laid a cold, damp, folded up facecloth on his already cool forehead to soothe his not remotely sore head. He pretended to fall asleep as she stroked his chest tenderly. Eventually she kissed him on the cheek, took the facecloth away and settled down next to him.

“I have to take this,” he tells her in his ‘emergency at work’ voice. “Go and wait in the car; I’ll be out in a minute.” He snaps the phone open, holds it up to his ear and starts walking back to his office, amazed that he had sounded so calm, so ordinary.

“Hello.” He doesn’t look back until he hears the door shut behind Lana, and now he’s alone and she’s gone and he has Clark on the line.

“Are you coming over?” Clark sounds distressed.

“I can’t,” Lex says apologetically. He is actually sorry, which is a worrying new development. Apparently he now feels like he owes something to Clark.


“Clark, calm down. I don’t know if I can make it today.” It’s like talking to an infant.

Lex.” Panicked breathing. “I need you. Please. I need you right now. I’m so… I’m so turned on. I- I need you. Now, I need you now.”

Lex is ridiculously charmed by Clark’s melodramatic response to Lex’s possible absence today. “How turned on are you?”

“Oh God, I’m so hard. My dick’s so hard Lex. I want you to see it.”

An intense rush of arousal courses through Lex’s body. “I’ll try,” he says, already knowing that he’ll be there within twenty minutes.

“Please hurry,” Clark whimpers, adorably pathetic.

Apparently their fight yesterday has been totally forgotten by both of them.

“Are you alone in the house?”


“Is your mother due home at any point this afternoon?”


“Go and get into bed and wait for me. No clothes, and no touching yourself. Okay?”

“Oh God.”

“Say okay.”


Lex hangs up and walks out to the car and hops in. He smiles regretfully at Lana and smoothly explains that he needs to go into work again. He lies to her face easily this time—there’s an emergency that requires his immediate attention--and he’s contrite and flirtatious and she’s annoyed but understanding.

He drops her off at the Talon and speeds away in the direction of the plant.

Clark’s waiting for him in his bedroom, naked on the bed, rock hard, not touching himself, just like Lex asked him to be.

“Hi,” Lex says softly, pulling his long sleeved t-shirt off and chucking it over the back of the chair in front of Clark’s desk. He takes his pants off next and Clark is practically drooling as he watches, vibrating, ready to jump right out of his skin, trying his hardest not to move, to only do what Lex wants him to do.

Then Lex gives himself to Clark. Each time they do this might be the last time and Lex wants it to be memorable for both of them.

“How long are you staying?” Clark asks him between kisses. “Are you going to leave again straight afterwards?”

“I can stay a few hours,” Lex says, licking Clark’s cheek and impaling himself on Clark’s erection. Clark smiles.

He does stay this time. They spend the entire afternoon in bed. He showers there and leaves at six, a dopily happy Clark sighing and kissing him and telling him he can’t wait until tomorrow.

But Lex won’t be back tomorrow. This has to stop.


Lana isn’t happy that evening and she confronts him over their Chinese takeout, which they’ve been eating in silence on the floor of the den, in front of the fireplace.

“What’s going on, Lex?” she demands. “I’ve hardly seen you since I got here and you’ve been acting weird. And don’t lie to me.”

Lex lies well under pressure.

He blames his behavior on the current crisis at work which is keeping him far busier than he’d like to be. He mentions his headache again, but this time she reacts with suspicion.

“Since when do you get headaches? I thought your super healing… thing… stopped you getting sick.”

Lex nods slowly, quickly deciding on a new tack. “It does.” He sighs. “I’ve been spending a lot of time in my lab recently. I think the headaches might have something to do with the work I’ve been doing down there.”

“What lab? What work?” She’s pissed off because she thinks she knows everything about Lex, but right now Lex doesn’t care about shattering that illusion if it will distract her from the real issue.

“It’s just a personal project. Nothing earth-shattering or interesting to anybody but me.”

“Are you working with the meteor rocks?” she asks.


“What are you doing?”

Lex gives her a sheepish look. “Nothing much. Yet. I’ve been experimenting a lot, but the fruits of my labor have so far tasted a little sour. That’s why I didn’t tell you.” He holds out his hands. “There was nothing to tell.”

“But it’s making you sick. Not only have you kept it a secret from me, you’ve obviously been in the lab a hell of a lot if it’s having this kind of effect on you. Show me what you’ve been doing.”

No,” Lex snaps. “I don’t ask you to show me every little thing you work on. This is my personal project and that’s the way it’s going to stay.”

Lana looks like she’s been stung. “Right,” she says frostily. “Am I even allowed to be worried about you?”

Lex softens his tone. “Lana. You’re making a big deal out of nothing. I’m fine, honestly.”

“Why didn’t you want to have sex with me last night then?”

“My headache. Remember?”

“So this work you’re doing… it’s giving you headaches and it’s lowering your sex drive. And I’m supposed to keep my mouth shut about it? Have you forgotten who I am, Lex?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m your girlfriend. And I’m supposed to be worried about you when you get sick. Especially because you never get sick.”

“Lana, calm down. I’m taking a break from the lab at the moment. Probably for a while. So the headaches should go away and I’ll be back to myself in no time.”

Once the lies start it’s impossible to stop them.

“I’m sorry this weekend has been so hard on you. It’ll be different next week.”

Lana is visibly relaxing now. “Just promise me we can spend the day together tomorrow,” she says.


“I promise,” he replies, swallowing.

Having a demanding, insecure girlfriend with trust issues has its downsides, especially when one decides to embark on an affair. He made it through three days in her company before her suspicions were aroused. Three days. Yes, okay, Lex has not handled the situation well at all, and she’s not wrong about the fact that he’s been acting strangely, but really, she overreacted.

And that was only after one night of no sex. How will he get around not fucking her tonight? Or tomorrow night? And how the fuck is he supposed to get through tomorrow without seeing Clark? How will Clark cope?

They sit together on the couch in front of the television after they’ve finished eating, Lana dozing, Lex becoming increasingly anxious.

He’ll have to think of a way to escape from her tomorrow, if only for an hour or two. In the meantime getting blind drunk is the most appealing option on the horizon, and he stands up slowly, images of overfull glasses of whiskey floating serenely through his mind.

to be continued...

Intruder, Part Two

Tags: fic, fic: sv
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.