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Mourning

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Mourning

by Alex


Author's Comments: This is the fourth in a series, following "Pitfall."

Feedback: Please

Summary: Clark has to choose between Lex and his secrets.


I couldn't let him leave.

I stood staring at the wide open French doors, the force of them being fiercely flung open a vivid memory. I could almost still feel the breeze.

And I could still feel Lex's anger.

Directed at me, and it made my insides knot with a panic I'd never before experienced, a dread that even eclipsed the drowning sensation I'd felt only moments before as he'd fixed me with that horrid leer of mistrust.

I had to close my eyes against it even now. And the fear was building.

The fear of losing him.

I clutched my hair with both hands in sheer misery. What was I going to do? I couldn't just admit that I'd been lying to him all this time, but I couldn't just let him walk out of my life, either.

And that possibility was more unbearable than Lex knowing my secrets.

I began to pace a little, trying to calm myself down. Maybe I should just let him go. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. I probably should never have let him touch me. I am underage, after all...

Who am I kidding? I want it just as much as he does.

I want him.

Unable to contain my desperation, I sped through the doors, intending to beat Lex downstairs without being seen and intercept him at some point. As I passed, I heard him mutter, "Secretive bastard. Who does he think he's dealing with?" as he stormed down one hall, turning to head down another toward the staircase.

I reached the first floor and listened for him, trying to anticipate where he was heading. My hearing could become super-sensitive at times (another budding "ability" I suppose; like I need any more secrets to keep), and I tried to use it now, making out Lex's quickly descending footsteps on the carpeted stairs. The sound of his shoes against the stone floor trailed off to the left of where I was lurking, and I headed that way.

The kitchen. Okay. I reached it and stood facing the doorway just as he turned the corner and...

... stopped dead in his tracks as if he had run into something. "What the...?" He looked behind him quickly, then back at me. "How... did you...?" His eyes drew into that unbearable distrustful squint again.

"Lex, please don't look at me like that." I hoped my voice wasn't shaking like the rest of me was.

He folded his arms in gesture that told me he could look at me any way he damn well pleased and I'd better thank my lucky stars that he had the beneficence to grace me with the glory of his gaze.

Damn. How could he manage to convey all that with one posture?

"How should I look at you, Clark? You've done nothing but lie to me." He was still squinting, and I wanted to avoid that look, that suspicious mien of marred trust that screamed you fucked up into every fiber of my indestructible being.

I felt defeat and grief well up in my throat. Mourning at the death of all the secrets I'd kept since the age of five. Bereavement for all the sometimes carefully but usually hastily crafted excuses I'd used to explain my extraordinary conduct.

I looked over at the knife block on the counter, went over to it and pulled out the widest blade. It was a Henckels Five-Star stainless-steel chef, which I was positive was well sharpened.

Lex moved closer, and I placed the cutting tool on the counter and shoved it handle-first towards him.

His squint softened and he eyed the knife for a moment, then me.

I held out my hand. "Cut me," I said in a more defeated-sounding voice than I'd intended to use.

His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. "What?! I'm not-"

"Don't you want to further test your... theory?" I spat, moving forward a step. "Cut me!" I knew my hand was shaking now but I didn't care.

His mouth closed with a snap. He stood up straighter, his jaw setting more firmly. He grabbed the knife off the counter, glaring at me with eyes the color of the ocean at sunset.

For a moment I didn't think he was going to do it, that maybe I'd convinced him to let my secrets live just a little longer.

But he grabbed my outstretched wrist and sliced the blade across my palm.

My first instinct was to jerk my hand back, but by sheer force of will I managed to stay still enough to keep from doing so and possibly ripping Lex's arm from the socket at the same time.

He was staring down at my unmarked hand, squeezing my wrist so tightly I could see the vein bulging on the side of his head. I felt only a mild pressure of course, but as he ran his thumb over my palm in a gentle almost-caress, my eyes closed briefly as a shiver went though me.

He finally let my wrist go and looked at the knife. The blade was completely stripped.

He looked up at me and took a step back, letting the useless piece of cutlery fall to the floor with a clink. He blinked and his Adam's apple worked for few moments before he spoke.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked in a low, lazy voice, and I had to grin a little, letting out the shaky breath I'd been holding.

"No, I suppose it wasn't." My grin faded as I searched his eyes. He moved forward and suddenly his mouth was on mine, and I continued to examine him as he kissed me, finally letting my lids fall shut and relaxing into his embrace.

He released my mouth after a moment, running his lips along my cheek. Waves of relief were washing over me, drowning out the fear and mourning.

"It's all true, isn't it?" Lex murmured against my jaw.

"Yes," I whispered, my eyes still closed. I turned my head, needing his mouth again.

"The mattress, the vase..."

"Yes," I moaned against his mouth, pleading with my lips, and he gave me another brief kiss.

"... the wall..."

"Mmm hmm..." Another kiss, more lingering, but still too brief.

"The fucking car..."

"Yes, Lex. Yes...!" I could stand it no longer. I crushed my mouth against his, pulling him closer against me, sucking gently on his tongue as it plunged between my lips. My fingers clutched at the buttons on his had-to-be-ridiculously-expensive shirt, and I had to will myself to be patient enough to actually work the buttons through the holes and not just rip the garment off him.

I felt him chuckle at my wantonness, but after a moment he pulled back deliberately and looked at me hard. "Clark?"

"Yes?" It came out as more of a gasp than anything else.

"Thanks for not putting a hole in my windpipe."

"No problem." I moved forward, desperate for more osculation, but he pulled back again. "And, Clark?"

I waited.

He reached up and ran a finger along my cheek. "Don't ever lie to me again." His voice was mild but his eyes were as hard as certain parts of my anatomy. I swallowed and nodded silently, knowing that I probably couldn't even if I wanted to.

He reached down and rubbed my hardness through my jeans, and I shuddered. "Hmm. Bullet-sperm. We're going to have to figure out what to do about that," he said with a bemused expression as he continued to rub me. "Otherwise, I won't be able to touch you like I want to." More rubbing, and I think I whimpered.

"You do want me to touch you, don't you Clark?" That teasing voice was back and I think I might have soiled my underwear a little. "Lex-"

"All right." He conceded, heeding the warning. "but you need relief, don't you?"

Oh, Jesus, did I ever. But I needed to feel his silky skin under my fingers more, and the now-trembling appendages resumed working on his buttons.

"That's okay, Lex. Just let me-"

"Turn around."

Something in the tone of that statement made me drop my hands and turn immediately. Lex's hands came around my waist and unzipped my jeans, sliding them down my hips along with my underwear. He then started working on my shirt and I had to help him, getting all the buttons undone before he'd even finished one.

I stood shivering for a moment after he'd stepped back and pulled my shirt off, wondering what he had in mind. We were still in the kitchen, after all.

Then I felt Lex press against my back, the intoxicating warmth of skin-on-skin, his fully-hardened length pressing against my ass. I couldn't help but moan at the sheer heat of it, my head falling back and lolling as he gently bit my earlobe.

"You know you'll have to tell me everything," he murmured into my ear, circling his hand around my straining flesh and... squeezing.

My hips spasmed. "Yes, yes everything..." I moaned, reaching behind us to pull him closer.

He ran his tongue up the side of my neck. "Everything, Clark. No more secrets." Another squeeze, then his hand moved slowly up and down my shaft.

"Oh God, Lex... Anything... anything you want..." I managed to gasp, shuddering, feeling my orgasm coming on full force. "Lex... I'm...!"

"In the sink, Clark-"

The sink?!? We moved toward it, clumsily due to the fact that my jeans and underwear were binding my ankles. It was stainless steel, so hopefully the most I would do is put a couple of dents in it.

Lex pushed me up against it, stroking me faster and more firmly. His hips were grinding against me now, his hardness rubbing between the cheeks of my ass. If I weren't already going over the top that would have done it for sure and I cried out, my hips bucking violently as I shot into the sink. I could hear my come clang into the basin, and I prayed that it wouldn't somehow ricochet and cause additional damage to the house ...or Lex.

Thankfully I heard no additional crashes and I arched back against Lex, urging him on as he came against me, grunting and biting my neck hard.

We remained still for several moments, panting, Lex licking the spots on my neck that he had bitten. "It's all right, Lex," I murmured. "It didn't hurt."

"Mmm." He kissed my ear and we both looked down into the sink. It was dented, all right. One large pit and several small ones.

I looked at him over my shoulder. "Sorry."

Lex shook his head in bewilderment, and I suddenly found myself wondering (way too late) where all the servants were.

I asked him this and gave me a wicked grin. "I gave them the day off."

I raised an eyebrow, and asked how he was going to explain the dimples in the sink. He shrugged and said he'd think of something.

THE END