Uninvited

by a campbell

Clark Kent/Lex Luthor NC-17

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"So," Clark leaned back on the study sofa and beamed a bright grin in Lex’s direction. "What’s up for this weekend?"

Tomorrow night was Friday, and there was no doubt in his mind but that he’d spend it with Lex. Clark had been hanging at the mansion every weekend for the past month or so. Not only was he enamored of the game room, which boasted a range of full-size arcade games from the '80s and a bar stocked with sodas as well as liquor, but he genuinely enjoyed Lex’s company. Lex was a cool friend and fun to be with, regardless of what his parents thought. The two of them would shoot some pool, listen to music, maybe get a pizza and watch some dvds. Lex worked 14-hour days at the plant during the week, so weekends were his time to chill. And Clark had grown to enjoy these Friday nights, was sure Lex had, too, and there was no reason to think that this week would be any different.

Plus, his mom and dad were going out of town to Leavenworth tomorrow afternoon and not coming back till Saturday night. He could even spend tomorrow night at the mansion if Lex invited him.

He beat down the blush that was rising slowly up his neck to his jaw and cleared his throat. He’d thought of him and Lex together, doing things that were now only shadows in his inexperienced mind. And, though Clark wasn’t absolutely positive, maybe those warm, assessing looks Lex was always giving him meant he was having some of the same thoughts. Clark hoped that someday in the not-too-distant future he’d have more than shadows with which to content himself, but--

Lex stood up with a sigh and, walked to the window, and Clark jerked, cleared his throat and tried to focus his thoughts on something more of the PG-variety.

Lex lifted the curtain to look out into the dusk. "Maybe next week, Clark. Tomorrow night, I have plans."

"Oh, yeah?" Clark blinked. "What kind of plans?"

Lex looked off down the drive as though there were something very interesting coming from Route 17 toward the manor. "I’m throwing a party."

“A party?” Tomorrow night? Lex hadn’t mentioned a thing about a party till now. There were no signs of preparations. Lex didn’t throw parties, at least in Smallville. Sometimes fancy black-tie deals in Metropolis, Tokyo, or New York, three hours away, business-based, of no concern to Clark except that they kept Lex away from Smallville, and away from him.

But as Clark thought about it, a party here in town did sound like a pretty good idea. Lex didn’t do anything by halves, and he’d probably pull out all the stops to make it an event to remember.

"Some friends from the city."

Oh. Friends.

Friends?

Huh. Well, he and Lex were friends. He supposed he could share Lex with a few other people for one evening. Clark waited.

"You understand, of course," Lex was saying as he tuned back in. "Return of hospitality. Business associates, acquaintances. Acquaintances who want to see my picturesque residence out here in the bucolic countryside." He glanced over at Clark with a smile. "And, mainly, make some contacts, and get free drinks." A wry chuckle.

"Sure," said Clark. He wasn’t quite sure what "bucolic" meant, but it was gradually dawning on him that he might not be on the guest list.

"So, um...I guess you'll be all tied up tomorrow night, then."

Lex flashed him that sleek little grin made Clark weak in the knees every time.

"Not unless I'm lucky," Lex chuckled. "Game night next Friday, though. Mark your calendar." Lex strode to the pool table, picked up and began chalking a cue.

"Will do," Clark agreed. He rose to his feet. "I guess I should get home. I have some chores to knock out before dinner." With a faint smile, he turned to leave. Lex didn’t try to stop him. Clark looked back and leveled the puppy eyes, but Lex was aiming, taking his first shot. The pool balls cracked and scattered as Clark watched him, noting the cool, handsome profile, thinking how very much he wished he could stay. And come over tomorrow night. He wanted it even more now that he knew he couldn’t have it.

"Does your father know?" Clark’s tone was slightly accusing. Throwing that get-together last fall at the farm when his folks went to Metropolis--the one that morphed way out of control--had been enough to ground him for a whole month and garner stern warnings ever since, every time his parents went away, "Now remember: no parties!"

Lex snorted. "No, why should he? I don’t need his permission." He aimed again, pocketing three balls at once with ease.

"No," Clark said glumly. "I guess you don’t."

**

Outside, Clark paused at the bottom of the entry stair and exhaled on a slow sigh. He gazed around across the manor lawn at the bare trees, glazed with a mist of green from early-spring buds, not really seeing them.

Lex was throwing a party and he wasn’t invited. He’d been sitting right there waiting, wanting, and Lex hadn’t invited him. Even though they were best friends.

His cheeks burned as he wrestled with wounded feelings. Of course he knew how it was. Different groups of friends didn’t always mix. Pleased and proud as he’d been to see Lex show up at Disaster Night last fall, fireworks and all, he’d sort of stuck out like a sore thumb. Of course, Lex was so cool that he could work any gathering with ease. But what would he, Clark, do mingling with a bunch of sophisticates from Metropolis? He wouldn’t have anything suitable to wear. He wouldn’t know what to talk about. Besides, he wasn’t even drinking age yet and Lex was probably afraid of getting arrested or something if he had anyone under 21 at an alcohol-based party.

All these reasons made sense. But the hurt persisted.

He should be used to this by now. His parents turned down so many party invitations when he was younger, besides never letting him have parties of his own, even on birthdays, that after a while, people stopped asking him. He grew accustomed to the lonely Saturday afternoons when Pete and every other kid he knew was over at Soandso’s house eating cake and playing pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey, and he was stuck at home. Parties just weren’t in his stars.

But Lex was different. Lex introduced him to new ideas and experiences. Lex put him before everyone else. Just one of the many things that made Clark love him, made Clark feel cherished and valued. Lex never failed to see that he was entertained and amused. Lex always included him. Till now.

He was too much of a kid, and too country, for Lex’s party.

**

Friday evening. School was out, and the weekend lay ahead. Night was falling. The air was damp with the threat of spring rain, but Clark knew from watching the six o’clock weather report earlier that it still could freeze before morning. His folks had spread cloth over the new plants before they left that afternoon, just in case.

He lounged alone at the kitchen table, the sports page from evening paper spread open before him. The placidly-ticking grandfather clock sounded a lot louder than usual in the deserted house. Mom had left him a note about the beef stew in the refrigerator for his supper, and the sponge cake for dessert, but for some reason he wasn’t very hungry. Which, for him, was really unusual. He was always hungry.

Lex’s party was scheduled to start at eight. It was seven-twenty four.

Hmm.

It was really quiet here. Way more quiet then he was used to it being. The soft click of the clock seemed to be getting louder by the minute.

There were plenty of other things he could do besides go to Lex’s dumb party. He had the house to himself, for Chrissakes. He could play his cds at top volume and dance in the middle of downstairs in his bare feet, boxers and a t-shirt. Lip-synch, or even sing along if he wanted, with sunglasses like Tom Cruise. Or maybe train the telescope on Lana’s bedroom window and hope against hope she’d walk by in her bra and panties. Or ram some fenceposts into the ground or speed-clean the entire farmhouse so his parents would be pleased when they got home, or have Orange Crush and microwave popcorn--a whole pack, if he wanted--for supper instead of beef stew and cake, and watch VH1 all night in the living room. Then, later he could jack off in his own bedroom instead of in the loft and make as much noise as he wanted, all night long, if he wanted.

Trouble was, he didn’t want to. He’d so much rather be at Lex’s. With Lex. Doing things. Doing anything.

Just being with Lex was better than sex. Sex alone, anyway.

Clark sighed.

Lex was with other people tonight. More intriguing people, sophisticated. People who could drink alcoholic beverages, and have spirited, sparkling casual conversation, about stocks and fashion and vacations in Greece or Switzerland. Lex probably didn’t even remember Clark was alive.

Hmm. 7:58.

Lex had a perfect right to have whoever he wanted to, over. Without Clark.

He could probably just speed over and x-ray into the first floor. Lex would never know he was there.

**

So, this is a rich person’s party.

Cool jazz music from a live band. Soft lights. A bartender in the first-floor lounge, just for the occasion. Shadowy couples in corners, the clink of glasses filled with fancy drinks. Cool young adults in elegant clothes, slim, glamorous women and professional-looking men. There were groups and couples lounging all over his game room.

Clark, x-raying from behind a maple tree in the front yard, refused to give in to envy, now that he was here. He no longer felt left out, because he could see now that he definitely wouldn’t have fit in, even in his best clothes. He was more relieved than disappointed now that he hadn’t been invited.

But still, he lingered. Nothing to go home to but solitude, while here, he could at least see Lex.

And there he was.

Lex was standing by the bar talking to a sleek brunette with bobbed hair, looking at her with the focused, appreciative concentration he usually saved for Clark. Clark narrowed his eyes gazed, flash of jealousy subsiding into a slow burn.

Handsome men, beautiful women. Lex was wearing a grey suit, jacket unbuttoned, no tie. He looked sleek, sophisticated and confident. Watching him from the darkness outside, Clark felt even more bereft. How could he ever expect, ever dare to hope, that someone like Lex would be interested in someone like him? How, when he had all this to choose from?

It didn’t take much decision-making to superspeed inside when a couple plus another person came out through the front door. Clark found himself standing in the deserted entryway without quite knowing how he got there.

Omigod. I’m inside. What am I doing? It was like his body had a mind of its own tonight. He drew a quick, panicked breath and zoomed up the same stairs up which he’d trailed behind Lex so long ago, that afternoon he’d returned the truck. He didn’t exhale until he was safely in the upstairs hall outside Lex’s bedroom.

He narrowed his gaze and peered through the door. He’d only been in Lex’s room once before, when Lex had sent him upstairs to get a clean shirt from the (huge) closet after Clark had brought him home after Club Zero. He hadn’t lingered long, just pausing to enough to peek curiously into the medicine cabinet in the private bathroom and steal a curious glance at Lex’s king-size bed. He couldn’t help wondering how many nights in any given week Lex had company in here, male, female, or both, how many soft words and cries were uttered beneath or on top of the plush velvet spread.

Clark had headed back downstairs with the shirt that evening as soon as he was able to will his unbidden erection to subside.

Now, some months older but not much wiser, Clark grasped the doorknob, opened the door and stepped inside once again, feet sinking into the thick, immaculate carpet. The room was cool and quiet, with a single lamp burning by the door to the balcony. There were tapestries flanking stained-glass windows that matched the ones in the study, but their jeweled hues were blank tonight, backed by the darkness outside. Dark, plush blood-hued curtains, tied back with looped cords, pooled on the floor.

He stared at the bed in shamed fascination, imagining them both there on the expensive sheets, whether silk, flannel or Egyptian cotton, saw himself tracing Lex’s smooth brow with half-open lips, Lex’s slim fingers tangling in his own coarse locks--

Clark shook his head to clear the memories and sighed again.

He really needed to get laid. And there was only one person he wanted to do it.

**

Voices outside the door scared him into superspeed again. He looked out with wide eyes from the closet where he’d found the shirt, the door still open a crack.

"Oh, I doubt it," Lex was saying easily as he stepped into the room. "I don’t think you would have been the first."

Clark held his breath. The first what? He tensed and fired up his x-ray vision to get a better view through the door.

"Oh, I don’t know," said the young woman with him, a different one than the petite, bobbed-haired one by the bar. This one had long wavy chestnut hair like Victoria’s and a body almost to match. She was standing close to Lex, really close, and Lex was looking down at her with that half-lidded, sleepy gaze that always made Clark want to ease him out of his clothes. "Why don’t you try me?" The girl lifted a finger and trailed a manicured nail down Lex’s white shirt to his belt. She gave the belt a little yank and murmured something Clark couldn’t hear.

Lex smiled that small smile Clark loved and that he liked to think was usually reserved for him. "Is that an invitation?" Lex moved in even closer to the girl, raised one hand to cup the side of her face, and fingered a strand of her hair.

Awk-ward. Clark beat down a wave of jealousy and gnawed his lower lip. He had no real right to be possesive. He knew Lex had plenty of sexual experience, plenty of other relationships, but having to watch the experience was something else. Especially from inside the closet that held Lex’s dress clothes. And it was wrong. Spying on Lana sitting on the porch or partially-dressed alone in her bedroom was one thing. But this--? He could try not to watch, though he doubted he possessed that kind of willpower. He couldn’t very well speed out because he didn’t want to cause a draft. He sure as heck couldn’t let Lex know he was in here. There was nothing to do but stay as still as he possibly could and hope things wouldn’t go too far.

He knew within about thirty seconds that his hope was a vain one. Lex’s gaze was warm and assessing, the same way he always looked at Clark. He leaned in for an open-mouthed kiss, and his guest kissed back, wrapping herself around him and reaching up to unbutton his collar. Her palm was stroking his crotch and Clark could hear the wet sounds of kisses punctuated with low murmurs and moans as he gnawed his lip in discomfort.

Lex was reaching up to undo her blouse, and Clark could detect heavy breathing from both of them, despite the thudding of his own heart

"Margaret," Lex whispered, and, at least Clark knew her name, now. He trembled as he narrowed his eyes, the vow not to watch fading into the darkness of the closet’s deep corners.

Margaret was quickly relieved of her blouse, then her bra. Lex dropped both onto the floor without looking at them, eyelids drooping sexily.

And...breasts. Wow.

Full and bouncy, with dark, pert nipples, and they fit into the curve of Lex’s palm as though they were made to do just that. Lex backed Margaret slowly against the wall, and the girl flung back her head and moaned as he kneaded the soft flesh, then bent to flick his tongue over a nipple.

Clark stifled a moan of his own. And, wow, suddenly, he was really hard. He gulped, coasted a hand over his straining fly, then backed a little further into the row of suits and shirts, shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another, still watching, even as a wave of guilt plus excitement washed through him.

No, this was all wrong. Wrong for Lex to be in here with a girl about to have sex when it was Clark he really wanted, Clark just knew it, wrong for Clark to be stuck in the closet during it, wrong, wrong, wrong.

They were kissing again, and God, he’d always imagined how Lex might kiss, and what a kiss from Lex would be like if you were on the receiving end: the wet warmth of mouths colliding, the sensation of that agile tongue slipping in and dueling with his own. That slim body pressing him back against the wall--

Clark heard a strangled whimper coming from his own throat. Startled, he backed a little too far into the rack of clothing, dislodging a cardboard box from the shelf above. It fell, knocking against the door with a soft bump in its descent.

Clark winced, froze, and trained his vision through the door again, not daring to breathe. But neither Lex nor his...friend... reacted, so they must not have heard. He exhaled.

Lex leaned in for one more kiss, slow and long. Clark watched, warm and confused, worried and fearful about what was going to happen next, even while he was on fire to find out.

After the kiss, Lex drew back. He touched the tip of one slim finger to Margaret’s lips, and shook his head: "Not now."

She protested with a pout and a moan of discontent. "But, why?"

"You’re date’s no doubt wondering where you are." He picked up her blouse and bra from the floor and held them out. "Later, perhaps. Next week, next month."

His voice trailed off. With a shrug of discontent, she took the clothes and slipped them on, not taking her eyes from Lex’s face.

"Now, off you go," he said, pushing her gently toward the door. "I’ll see you downstairs." Clark, confused, kept his gaze trained on Lex. It was as if he had no power to stop, or move.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Lex leaned against the dresser, folding his arms. He was staring straight at the closet. Clark licked his dry lips to moisten them, and his heart wasn’t pounding any more. It was completely paralyzed.

"You can come out," Lex said.

Clark’s spine turned to ice. Oh, God, no.

"I know you’re in there, so you can reveal yourself. I have very good ears."

Clark cringed, and shrank back into the rack of clothes. He’d have shrunk to the size of a pea if he could have. There was no way to get out without Lex seeing him, even with super speed, because he’d have to open the door, first. Not to mention that he had to be especially careful, because he had a more than sneaking suspicion that Lex was largely wise to his powers, anyway, and he simply had to preserve whatever secrecy remained to him. For his own protection.

"I assure you: I’ve had enough attempts on my life not to be amused by this sort of cat-and-mouse. I have a device," he pulled a small gadget from his pocket "that will have my security here within 30 seconds. You can either come out peacefully or suffer the consequences. Although I hear both the Smallville jail and Metropolis detention center offer quite comfortable accomodations. And, if you happen to be a guest of mine, you can get back downstairs and out of the house."

Clark thinned his lips in the agony of indecision. There was a limit to how long he could delay before Lex called his security team. He might as well just cave and face the music. With an impatient shove at the front of his jeans, he desperately tried to will away his erection. With luck, Lex wouldn't have him arrested without letting him explain first. But what could he say?

"I don’t plan on leaving until you do."

Clark stepped out, cheeks burning.

Lex didn’t look astonished or stunned very often, but he did now. "Clark?"

Clark bowed his head.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm just..." Time to brazen it out. "I...I snuck in. I crashed your party, Lex. I’m really sorry.”

Lex was still staring at him, incredulous. "Sneaking into the mansion is one thing, Clark. This is almost as much your home as mine."

Despite his mortification, Clark’s heart did a small flip at Lex’s words.

"But what are you doing in here?"” Lex was saying. He looked down pointedly at the bulge in Clark’s jeans, and Clark flushed, wishing he could just drop through the floor about now. Lex just kept looking at his crotch,thinking, weighing, assessing, and looking as though the world’s hardest acrostic finally, suddenly made sense. Clark tugged down his shirt as best he could and aimed a wobbly smile and a shrug in Lex’s direction.

"Besides getting an eyeful," Lex added, attempting to mask a grin with a duck of the head.

Clark’s throat was dry. He swallowed. "Well, I was in the downstairs hall, and some people came through, and I ran upstairs so no one would know I was here I thought I could sneak back out as soon as the coast was clear, but then you came in--" Clark’s voice trailed off. "And I was kind of…stuck."

Lex considered, saying nothing. He sat down on the bed and looked down at his clasped hands.

Please don’t be mad, Clark thought desperately, or, if you are, not so mad you won't want to be friends any more. "Please don’t call the police, Lex. I was home alone, and bored, and...lonely." He hated having to admit to worldly, sophisticated Lex how pathetic his life was, but the words just came spilling out. "I guess I’ve gotten used to spending Friday nights here, and I just didn’t know what to do with myself. I...I wanted to see you." He took a deep breath. "I missed you."

Oh, God. Had he really said that? He had. Oh, well. Lex might as well know that he was obsessed with him these days. But what would happen now? Would Lex laugh, scoff, order him out of the house for being a trespasser, not to mention a wuss and a dope?

Lex was looking at him in mild astonishment. Then he smiled, really smiled, a brief, beautiful flash across his normally composed and serious face. He rose to his feet.

Clark stepped back. "I guess I’d better go, now. You need to get back down to your party." Maybe if he just acted confident, Lex would let him just walk out the bedroom door and out of here. Just maybe.

But Lex stepped closer, so close Clark could smell his spice-scented after shave, and reached for Clark’s hand. Clark looked up, startled, to meet the warmth of Lex’s gaze.

"I missed you, too, Clark. And, I’d have invited you to the get-together, but I figured you’d have been bored stiff, not knowing anyone here. Everyone older...shallower...In fact, I’d much rather be enjoying one of our regular Friday evenings, too."

Clark couldn’t believe he was hearing correctly. "You mean that?"

Lex’s gaze went warm and soft. "I mean it, Clark."

Lex moved in closer. Clark fought the instinctive urge to step back, and stood his ground, because, instinct was instinct, but his head and heart were telling him something else.

Lex reached up with both hands and unbuttoned the top button of Clark’s shirt, this time. Clark, dumbfounded, glanced down at Lex’s fingers and then up at his face, so close he could feel Lex’s breath, warm and cool at the same time, and see the small pores in his ivory skin.

"Lex--"

His voice broke off. And then Lex’s mouth was on his, and his own arms were around Lex’s body, folding him close. They were kissing, wet, and messy, and hot, groping at each other from chest, to hips, to buttocks, then clasping each other in a tight embrace. Then they were both falling on the bed and tearing at each other’s clothes, and panting, and suddenly it was like Clark’s every midnight fantasy come true.

They both stopped at once, as if on cue, to listen, breathless, but everything was quiet, except for muted sounds of jazz and conversation drifting up from downstairs.

"What about the party?" Clark gasped. He wiped a trickle of saliva from the corner of his mouth with his now-unbuttoned cuff and struggled briefly to sit up, but Lex kept him pinned down. He coasted a hand through Clark’s hair and leaned closer, the whispery, soothing sounds he was making turning Clark practically to jelly.

"Know something, Clark? Everyone down there is doing just fine on their own. They have the music, the bar, each other. They don’t need me."

Clark knew he should probably respond with But you’re their host. Instead, he decided to go for it. "I do," he said.

Lex looked down at him, raising one pleased brow. Another kiss, wetter, deeper, more intense, and so good Clark thought he just might combust. Or come, just from kissing Lex, from the sensation of his slim, body warm against him, weighing him down, though it would be beyond embarrassing if he did.

Lex pulled back, panting, and glanced toward the door. "Just one thing, though. Stay right here. Don’t move." Lex slid off him. Clark watched him walk stiffly to the door and tried not to chuckle. He’d felt Lex’s erection pressing into his stomach while Lex was on top of him.

He ran a hand over his own cock in pleasurable anticipation and gave a little groan.

Lex turned the lock on the door. "Just so there are no more unexpected visitors."

"Yeah," Clark whispered, his throat still desert-dry. Something about Lex locking them in the room together alone was so beyond hot that he could barely process. But before he could think much, anyway, Lex was back, and on him, and he was drawing Lex in closer, and it didn’t matter that they were both guys, or that Lex had a couple of dozen guests sipping drinks and gobbling appetizers downstairs. All Clark could think of was how good it felt to have stolen Lex away, and to be alone with him now, messing up the covers on his bed, about to have sex.

Clark kicked off one sneaker, then toed the other loose with his stockinged foot. Lex was fumbling with his zipper and reaching inside the flap of his boxers, and then, the sensation of cool fingers on hard, heated flesh. Clark had fantasized about that first touch countless times, but the reality was way better than his most vivid dreams.

Lex slid down his body, pushed up his shirt, and, tongue pointed like a cat’s, trailed it from Clark’s chest down to his stomach, giving his navel a little lick when he got there. Clark’s cock was straining up, almost flat against his stomach, waiting for Lex’s mouth. Lex made him wait for what seemed like eons while he traced the vein on the underside with his finger, then with his tongue, and looked up at Clark’s yearning face with one cocked eyebrow.

"Lex, please." he begged.

Lex opened his mouth and sucked him down, all at once. And, God, if this hadn’t been worth waiting for... Clark squeezed his eyes tight shut, focusing on the motion, the sensations, blocking out everything else.

**

When Clark sneaked back down the stairs the next morning, Lex’s guests were gone. Only the glasses, napkins, cigarette stubs and paper plates strewn around the first floor indicated there had been a party at all.

Clark grinned as he looked around, because the party upstairs in Lex’s room last night had sure left this one in the dust.

A cold rain was beating down as he grasped the bronze door handle and stepped out on the front porch. No overnight freeze; he’d do the parents a favor and uncover the plants when he got home. Because, well, he was in love with the whole world today.

He shook his head and drew big gulps of the fresh, cold air. Having to head home so early was a drag when he wanted to badly to stay, but the cows, horses, chickens and goats were all waiting for breakfast, and they shouldn’t suffer just because he was…um…obsessed with his best friend at the moment.

He’d left Lex sleeping up in his room, naked and cocooned in the down comforter Lex had spread over both of them before they drifted into the blissful oblivion of an exhausted sleep--around 4 a.m. Lex had confided in a whisper as Clark cuddled in to his side that, because of his baldness, he got chilled easily, and Clark vowed to remember that in the future. He’d stirred only slightly this morning as Clark bent to kiss him goodbye.

"Next Friday night--be here." Lex murmured, before burying his face in the pillow again.

Clark smiled at the memory. The, he lifted his arm and sniffed in the direction of his armpit. His clothes were icky, and so was he, but he just might never take a bath again.

_________________

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