Somebody Love Me

by kira-nerys

Author's Notes: Part of the Clex Festival at

Part of the ClexFest at

by kira-nerys

Clark smiled at the sensation of his mother's arms gripping him tightly and his father's pats on the back. Their smiles radiated with love and pride. He didn't have to hear them say it; he knew they were proud of him, and knew they loved him. It was evident in each and every little thing they did. Always. It was a good feeling and he couldn't help the grin that broke on his face as the adrenaline flooded out of his body, and his racing heart slowed down. He was overwhelmed with love for his parents, with pride and relief. They were all out of danger. He was, Earl was and so was ... Lex.

He lifted his gaze to look at Lex, and their eyes met for a fraction of a second, before Lex pulled his eyes away from Clark and his family. But the blank look on Lex's face spoke volumes, more than any words could have done. Lex's eyes were dark and full of ... longing. Clark shifted his gaze toward Lex's father, Lionel Luthor, who was hugging his son awkwardly. There was no love in the embrace, not even a sense of joy in knowing that Lex was alive. It was all stiff and distant; a display, staged for the newspapers, and Clark's heart ached.

The snake in his gut slithered and coiled in his belly as the door fell shut behind the visitor. Clark. Of course it would be Clark. Lex sighed and tried not to let show how tired he was, how wrung out and ... vulnerable. He'd never asked Clark to leave before and he couldn't start now, however much he would like to. No matter how much he longed to be alone, it would just create more questions than he had the energy to respond to or avert.

But Lex was jealous. He admitted it to himself. The vision of Clark being embraced by his parents, being so unconditionally loved, was imprinted on his brain forever. The slippery serpent of disgust moved in his stomach again. He had no business envying Clark. He wasn't insipid enough to pity himself, was he? Even the insecurity of that thought riled him up. Lex knew perfectly well what he had, and all the advantages it gave him. He knew how much the whole world envied him. He'd be damned before he'd burden his only friend with an unworthy feeling such as envy, especially Clark, whom he...wanted so much.

"Lex," Clark said softly. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" Lex said. He rose to his feet, casually pushing his hands into the pockets of his slacks, determined not to show Clark how they were trembling, trembling with the need to reach out and touch someone who would welcome it. Was there anyone who would, besides this beautiful, beautiful boy?

Even if he couldn't get exactly what he wanted; a simple touch, like a pat on the back, would give him something, some measure of ... closeness, some connection to another living, breathing being. It would let him know that someone at least cared a little.


The silence stretched between them as Clark stood motionless just inside the door. He looked uncertain, as though he wasn't really sure why he was there, or as though he wasn't sure what to do. Lex cleared his throat.

"I thought you'd be home celebrating by now."

"Celebrating?" Clark's eyes knitted together in that adorable way. Adorable? Lex nearly groaned aloud and turned away, not knowing what to do with himself. It was an unsettling feeling. He searched frantically for something to do with his hands while, equally desperate, he tried to think of something appropriate to say.

"Yeah, you know, that you're alive and well and that the Plant is still standing there. Just life in general," Lex said and started to pour something into a glass. He wasn't even sure what it was. Something strong, he hoped.


He started. Clark was so much closer than he had been only a few seconds ago. And now Lex just couldn't stop his hands from trembling.

"Clark," he said.

There was a warning in his voice now, and Lex knew that he'd slipped, slipped enough for Clark to see... something - anything he wanted. Lex put the glass down and started to move away, if only to get some distance between them. If Clark weren't so close it would be easier - easier to.... Lex didn't know.

What the fuck was wrong with him? Why would he get like this, just because he knew... had gotten unmitigated proof once more, that his father didn't give a shit? Why did he even care anymore? How come he hadn't learned after twenty-one years that he just wasn't fucking worth it? Wasn't or even an encouraging word - or a damn hug for that matter.

He could remember the stiffness in his father's body as they stood there, hugging awkwardly before the flashing cameras, and how his father had pulled away as soon as it was humanly possible without seeming like the bastard he truly was.

Then there was a touch on his arm and he wanted to pull away so hard that Clark would never want to touch him again. He wanted to turn around and smack his fist right into that beautiful face, marring it, destroying it like he destroyed everything else that came within breathing distance. Like a foul stench, he ruined everything. Like poison, like....

"Lex," Clark said again and Lex realized that he hadn't managed to withdraw in time. He'd done nothing of the things he wanted, or intended to do. He just stood there, frozen and unable to move, because Clark was touching him, albeit lightly. Just a hand against his arm and nothing...nothing had ever felt so - valuable.

God, how pathetic was he? Really?

But it was Clark, touching him. How would he ever be able to push Clark away?

"Lex", Clark repeated a third time and then those fucking strong arms were around him, holding him close, like his father had never done, ever. And how fucked up was that, to look for love and comfort in the surprisingly strong arms of a sixteen-year-old boy?

Lex didn't care. He just sank into the touch with a shudder that traveled from his head to his toes and he fisted his hands in Clark's shirt, digging into the flesh beneath so hard that it must hurt, but Clark didn't make a sound. He just wrapped his arms tighter around Lex and held on.

Held on.

Lex let the warmth of that body course through him, allowing himself to feel loved for the first time since his mother died. And Lex knew there was so much more to his feelings for this brilliant boy than just a need to be hugged and held. He wanted so much more, and maybe, maybe he could let himself hope that it was okay, because he felt Clark's lips against his skull, warm and so tempting. Could it be true? Could there be a chance that somehow he'd found the one person on this miserable earth who could give him everything? Who didn't want anything from him but his love and his touch?

"Clark," he whispered, shocked at the trembling of his own voice.

"Yes, Lex," Clark replied, waiting, not even drawing away to look at him. Clark just kept rubbing his back with those big, warm hands, holding on like he was the most precious thing in the world.

"I want you, you know that, don't you?"

There was no answer. Maybe he hadn't been blunt... explicit enough?

"Not just this. I want you. I want to fuck you. I want you to...fuck me."

Would Clark pull away now? Lex was tense as a bowstring, but he couldn't help it. Was this it? Had he royally screwed this up like he screwed everything else up in his life?

*He's just a boy, Lex. Just a boy, you can't expect him to ... *

But Clark didn't tense for a second, and made no move to even try to pull away. In fact, those hands stopped caressing his back, then moved down to his waist and below, cupping his ass damnit. Pulling him even closer.

"Yeah, I know."

And Lex relaxed for the first time in what felt like... years. Clark never ceased to surprise him. And that was a good thing. Luthors bored easily.


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