Chapter 329: First Meeting
~ Flashback ~
Come and lay right on my bed
Sit and drink some wine
I promise not to make you cry
If you'll get inside my head
Then you'll understand
Then you'll understand me
And of course it would be his fucking father on the phone. Lex seriously considered not answering it, but he knew that not answering would just mean the old bastard would make a trip to Smallville and on his first day stuck in this little cow town? That was the very last thing he needed.
He didn't bother turning the radio off, because he didn't intend to be on the phone long enough to merit it, he just looked down, picked the phone up off the seat, and picked it up.
He didn't hear the baling wire crashing off the truck, but when he looked up to answer the phone, he felt sick to his stomach. He stomped the brakes with both feet, knowing he was going to hit the wire and go over the bridge.
And take that kid with him.
Lex downshifted as fast as he could, braking the whole while in the desperate, desperate attempt to dump velocity before he hit the railing.
And the scream of metal on metal was the last physical thing he remembered.
Moping, Pete called it. Clark did not mope thank you very much. Some friend Pete was turning out to be--eighth grade hadn't sat well with him in the cool department, and more and more Clark found himself not really wanting to be Pete's friend anymore. What with all the this isn't cool, Clark. comments he made that just freakin' hurt his feelings. That the chick, that Chloe Sullivan girl, was in the picture now didn't help much. She called him Flannel Farm Boy for the first six months she knew him.
And Lana. What must she think? She was so pretty, and her boyfriend was a jerkface dorkwad, and did he mention she was pretty? She gave him weird twisting things in his stomach he couldn't place.
He guessed later that staring off and freakin' moping had nearly cost his life.
The car hit him so hard that he lost all wind, all air, his body flattened by the speed it had hit him. He caught sight of shocked gray eyes, and his world exploded behind his eyelashes. He saw a million things, felt a piece of him slide into place, before he hit the water and thought for sure he was dead.
Great. Finally, see the love of your life, and you're damn dead at the bottom of the river.
Lex saw all of Smallville spread out beneath him. He saw his car sinking to the bottom of the lake with the young boy he hit. He wanted to feel regret, but couldn't feel anything but peace.
He saw the crap factory. The huge, ugly stone prison that his father had exiled him to here. There was a bright yellow farmhouse that Lex felt drawn to, like a piece of his heart lived there, and he wanted to go to it. There was a large white two-story house that seemed cold and chilly to Lex, but before he could register anything else in the town, he saw his mother.
Reaching out to him, holding her hands out and smiling. But she wasn't beckoning him forward, not just yet, just waiting to see.
And then she pointed down, and Lex followed, not of his own free will. He was being torn down, sucked back into his body, and the first things he noticed was pain in his chest, bitter water in his mouth, and the face of an angel looking down at him.
No.
The kid. From the bridge. "I... I could have sworn I hit you," he choked out, amazed.
Yeah, well.
Clark had sworn he'd died. He had. But then... he hadn't, his lungs were full of cold river water, his eyes were burning, but the car was sinking and he knew, beyond a shadow of a fucking doubt, that he had to save the guy in the car. He swam after it as it sank, as fast as his Clark legs could take him, and with all the force he could manage, ripped the roof off the car like it was a candy wrapper. He grasped the guy's middle and came up, as fast as he could, and when he finally exploded over the surface he gagged and wretched out the river water, coughing and splutteirng even as he swam toward shore.
He pulled the guy in his arms up--strange, he's bald--and set his head up at a small angle, before his CPR training kicked in. He was certified every year, and would do in an emergency in a pinch.
This was an emergency.
He took a deep breath, leaned down and breathed it into cold, blue lips, ignoring how good they felt--fuck, he was a freak--as hard as he could, and began to pump on his chest.
The man coughed... spluttered... spoke.
Clark looked over his shoulder at the bridge, horror in his gut that he was trying his best to hide, and looked back down. "You okay?"
Lex nodded. "Yeah. I'm okay. Are you okay?" Lex put his hand over his chest; it felt like the kid had put a hole through his sternum doing compressions but he was breathing and couldn't really complain as he shivered.
"Yeah," Clark said, panting softly as he leaned down on his haunches, looking down at the guy sprawled out in front of him, and after a half a moment too long, offered his hand. "Sit up a little, it'll help keep the water from staying in your lungs."
"Thanks," Lex said, still keeping one arm over his chest and took the other one.
The kid hauled him up like he was nothing.
Which, taking into the fact that Lex was half dead was probably an accurate assessment.
What was not, however, an accurate assessment, was the fact that Lex wanted to kiss the guy who'd just drug him out of the river. Wasn't strange that he wanted to kiss guys, because he rather made a habit of it.
He put his head in his hands. Give me a fucking break; I don't know what the hell I'm thinking. He looked back up at the twisted metal of the guardrail, and then at the kid again. "You sure you're all right?"
No. He wasn't all right. He'd just been hit with a car going at least fifty miles an hour, chunked over a bridge, and he didn't have a scratch on him. He was soaked, he was cold, but he was here, alive.
And he was horrified at the mental images crowding his head.
He didn't really know, cause he'd never had sex, never even read much about it or anything, but whatever sex entailed, he wanted it to be hot and hard and he wanted..
His cock was hard.
He flushed, crimson, and cleared his throat, coughing a little himself. "We should probably get some help. There's a phone up the street… as soon as I know you aren't gonna drown in whatever's left in your chest, I'll go use the phone."
Speaking of that, Lex was in the process of coughing it up, and he spat out several mouthfuls of brackish water. "I'm fine. Police would probably be a good idea, and I'm sure they'll notify my father," he said in a mumble. "I'll be all right."
"Yeah, they'll talk to my dad too, but that's all right. They can come get us." He suddenly stopped...looked down at the bald guy, looked at where the Porsche was bubbling at the bottom of the river, and his voice trembled the softest bit. "You're Lex Luthor, aren't you?"
Lex nodded, and held out his hand. "I am." The usual warnings about not suing and not getting anything out of the Luthor family rattled in the back of his head, but they were all drowned out by the little tremble in the kid's voice. "Thank you, for what you did."
"No problem. I would have done it for anyone."
I want to kiss you.
"Why were you going so fast, anyway?"
God, you look so good.
A dry little smile at that. "I always drive that fast. In fact, that was actually me being slow because I was answering the phone while driving," he said with a sardonic grin, struggling to his feet.
He wanted to look down his shirt and see if the kid had left a bruise. Because if he had? Lex definitely knew what he was going to be masturbating to that night.
More than once, if he was lucky.
And right as Lex rose to his feet, Clark's hands on his elbows, and they were a hairsbreadth away and Lex's breath was warm on his cheek and his entire body shuddered as he looked into those gray eyes. Something he had been missing, something he had needed for a long time... clicked. And suddenly, all thoughts of Lana, or Chloe, or boobs in general, flushed away to leave him... blank. Because he had no idea what one should lust after with men. Ass? Lex's was covered with his jacket. Dick? Same. Eyes... face... mouth..
Mmm.
He sighed, and swallowed, and blushed cherry red as he let go.
Lex's interest rose, as did the skin on the back of his neck.
He wasn't blind. Stupid, maybe, for even considering an underage piece of ass, no matter how delicious the packaging was.
But he wasn't blind. "What's your name?" Lex asked, studying every inch of the kid's features, unconsciously shifting closer when he moved away to keep soaking up the warm, welcome body heat that radiated off him.
Clark lowered his eyes when Lex stepped forward, horrified they were doing this on the bank where they almost died, but... but... God help him. "Clark. Clark Kent. I... um. I live here, in...uh… Smallville. Kent... farm," he finished, lamely, and blushed all the harder for it, looking up at Lex, biting his lower lip, and looking back down.
"Big yellow farmhouse," Lex supplied automatically.
"Yeah. That.... um. That's it," Clark said, and was that husky voice his? "I... live here. With my parents. I'm fifteen," he said, in a rush, and blushed all the harder for it. Lex, from the navel down, was...well. Wet and muddy. But there were shadows here and there, and...
Of fucking course he was fifteen, Lex reflected. And of course he still lived with his parents. And just to top it off... "You're in high school?"
"Yeah. I just started. I don't like it too much," he said, and looked up, before back down, still blushing furiously. "It's okay. But... um. We should call the police, right?" he asked, his voice a little too nervous, a little too high.
Lex shrugged off the wet, muddy jacket and stepped closer to Clark. "Yeah. Calling the police is what you should do."
And let them arrest me for planning to seriously take liberties with a minor.
Clark was suddenly so violently aroused that he couldn't get a breath in past his constricted throat. His eyes widened to near ovals as Lex's arms and shoulders worked and he wasn't gay, dammit, but this was... and oh... and he wasn't gay, but he was suddenly having dancing images of Lex naked, mostly pieced together by what he'd seen in the locker room at school, and the pecs and the arms and the ass and now he could see the outline of it and he was so hard he was sure the buttons on his jeans were going to pop.
Lex put his hand on Clark's shoulder. "Maybe I should go make that phone call. You look like you're about to fall off your feet." He squeezed gently, and was surprised to feel how hard and thick Clark's arms were under the baggy flannel.
You ever been a rich man's boy toy, Clark? Do you want to be?
Oh God! And then Lex squeezed his arm and it was like a direct 1- oooh to his cock and his eyes widened.
All he had to do was arch his hips up against his pants once more and... well.
He came, exploding really, his orgasm chasing the climax a moment later and he stifled the groan, biting his lower lip tightly, embarrassment flushing through his body from his toes to the roots of his hair.
God, maybe Lex hadn't noticed.
Again with the non blindness.
Clark, forget the boy toy part. Let's just fuck.
"Sit down, Clark, before you" get shoved down on your face and I fuck you. "Fall over. You said the phone's at the top of the hill?"
"Hmm? Oh," his voice squeaked. "Yeah. Um. Up there. Top of the hill. Right... yeah. Off the bridge?" Clark said, desperately, as he plunked down on the grass.
Oh, God, his father was going to kill him for falling for a playboy billionaire.
"Right." He picked up his wet jacket and put it around Clark's shoulders. "Stay there, don't move. You might be going into shock." Lex squeezed Clark's shoulder again, and coughed deeply once as he stood up straight. "Don't worry, Clark. I'll take care of you."
Clark looked up, huddled under the jacket--oh God, it smells like him!--all eyes and hair, and bit his lip. Shock? Yeah, he could say that. He was suffering from comindapantsitis, though, as Pete so gracefully put it, and he wanted, and... "Okey!" he squeaked.
Lex gave Clark another squeeze on the shoulder, and started up the hill, heading for the payphone. Once he was there, he dialed 911 and gave the operator all the details, including his name and his best approximation where he was--at least there was only the one bridge in Smallville--and the town was so small he could hear the emergency sirens before he even hung up the phone.
Squeeze!
Straight. To. The cock.
Which was hard in his pants again.
Yeah. Not only was his dad going to kill him, he was really going to kill him.
As soon as he hung up the phone, Lex looked under his shirt, and he could have almost cheered.
A vivid, bright black-blue-purple hand-shaped bruise was flowering right over his sternum.
Oh yeah. He was gonna have a lot of jack-off material for... well, if not the rest of his life, at least a couple of nights.
Lex slid back down the hill on one hip, balancing carefully over the uneven terrain as he got back to where Clark was shaking. "The ambulance and the medics are on the way, and they'll be here shortly." He put his hand on Clark's shoulder. "Can you stand up? We'll get you a blanket as soon as they get here."
Oh, he could stand up.
Was it advisable?
NO.
"I'm okay!" he squeaked, and tugged Lex's arm, just a bit. "Sit down. You've got to be… well, hurt. Sorry. I should have called myself." And risk showing off an erection so hard it was all but nudging his navel? No. NO. "Feeling better?"
"I'm okay, Clark. Whatever you did I feel like a new man," he reassured the kid. "I heal fast anyway, and it did me good to get my lungs and my blood circulating again. You did the hard part, and I think I can--and did--make a simple phone call."
Clark nodded, looking up under his lashes as he scooted over on his rock. "Well, sit. It takes them forever, every time. My dad is going to be shitting bricks."
Lex sat down on the rock beside Clark, leaning against him and staying pressed shoulder to hip against the boy. "That doesn't surprise me, even in a cow town like this--no offense, Clark, it's just not what I'm used to."
Oh my GOD!
Clark jerked and swallowed the sound that nearly escaped him, and rather then draw attention to his reaction, he blurted, "Do you live in Smallville now?"
"Not by choice," Lex said. "But, yes. This is my first day in town. I like to make an impression," he joked.
Clark grinned. He couldn't help it. His dimples twinkled on, and he pushed a limp strand of hair out of his eyes. "So I see. Where do you live, if you don't mind that I ask?"
"The big castle at the top of the hill, at the east end of Route 5," Lex answered. "I just moved in this morning and I was on the way home from the crap factory."
"The Scottish mansion?" Clark asked, eyes wide. "Whoa. That's… really cool. Isn't it like, a historical site or something?"
"It's the Luthor Ancestral Home. My father had it moved. A waste of his money if you ask me. He just sent me here because he needed me out of the way, and he's made it clear at the factory that I'm just daddy's little boy." He sighed as he soaked up the heat from Clark's body. "Daddy's little boy has a few tricks up his sleeve, Clark." Not the least of which involves getting you on your back.
Tricks.
Yeah.
Clark smiled. "Good luck, with that. Hey... the cops are here," he said, only because Sheriff Ethan was all but coming down the slope and he couldn't feign not seeing them anymore. "...And my dad," he said, and recoiled, standing up as fast as he cold and clearing his throat.
He was dead.
"Yeah, I heard them and the ambulance pull up." He didn't even bother to move, just waited for the paramedics to hand him and Clark red blankets. He wrapped one around his shoulders, and the other around Clark's.
Jonathan swore up and down that he was gonna kill that boy. "Clark! Are you all right?" He was standing there, dripping wet, wrapped in a red blanket, and he shucked his jacket off, wrapping it around Clark's shoulders.
"Who was the maniac drivin' that car?" he demanded, checking Clark over physically for injuries.
"That would be me," Lex said, stepping up from the side where he'd been getting checked over. "Lex Luthor." He held his hand out to be shaken, and he was more than slightly offended when Jonathan snubbed him, instead turning away.
"I'm Jonathan Kent, this is my son, Clark," he said tersely, starting to steer Clark away from the scene of the wreck.
"Mr. Kent, your son saved my life. If there's anything I can do--"
Jonathan interrupted. "Drive slower."
Drive slower right into me.
Clark sighed, looked back a little after he got to the top of the hill, heart jerking, and looked over at his dad. "its okay. I saved him."
"I don't want you around that Luthor boy anymore, Clark," Jonathan warned. "He's bad news. All the Luthors are. You just stay out of their way, you hear me?"
Lex watched as Jonathan hurried his son away, and he turned back to the medics, shooing them and the police officers off. They were just starting to pull his wrecked car out of the river, and he turned a questioning glance from the mangled metal to the red blanket-wrapped boy retreating with his father.
-fin-