Title: To Race Apollo

Author: danceswithgary (danceswithgary@yahoo.com)

Pairing: Clark/Lex

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: None

Spoilers: None

Word Count: 7950

Archive: Fine, just let me know

Summary: Lex is back from the dead...and looking for Clark. An uncanny moon interferes with their reunion. The world will never be the same.

That orbed maiden with white fire laden,

Whom mortals call the moon.

Percy Bysshe Shelley: The Cloud

The crowd outside the club never bothered to look up into the sky. They were too consumed with the latest fashions and hottest gossip while waiting for their chance to sparkle on the dance floor. Lex noticed the change in the moon as he cruised to a stop in the club's VIP strip, but he was in a hurry and dismissed it as atmospheric freakishness, most likely due to a rise in pollution levels. If he'd stopped to think about it, he would have realized that it should have been dimmer or diffused, not noticeably brighter.

It didn't matter. The state of celestial bodies meant nothing to Lex, not when he was so close to finding what he'd been searching for since he'd returned from his impromptu stay on a deserted island. After he'd visited the Kents and walked away with nothing, he'd tracked down Chloe, positive that she'd know something about her missing friend. He'd been right, as far as that went, and she told a story of an explosion, a miscarriage, and a runaway. She shared Clark's address in Metropolis...and his radical change in behavior. After finding that Clark had moved since Chloe's last contact, Lex spent his days in Metropolis tracking down rumors...and the nights haunting clubs.

Something inside him was convinced that he'd succeed tonight.

Throwing his car keys to the waiting valet, Lex flashed a smile at the doorman that was as attractive as the discreetly folded hundred in his hand, and he went to the head of the line...and in. Waves of light and sound crashed through his defenses, wiping clean the memory of surf, sand, and isolation. Bodies pressed close, the scent of perfume and sweat a not unpleasant reek, humanity's incense welcoming his spirit back from the dead. The few cries of recognition, bids for his attention, were easily ignored. All his focus was on the blue-lit bar...and the tall, dark-haired figure that possessed his dreams.

Sliding in next to him, Lex signaled the bartender, and then rudely interrupted the conversation between his quarry and a tall blonde who seemed ready to pour herself into the brawny arms exposed by a skin-tight shirt. "Clark, we need to talk." The other man ignored Lex, not even bothering to turn around to see who had spoken. Annoyed, Lex reached out, clapped his hand on one broad shoulder, and tried again, raising his voice. "I want to talk to you, Clark!"

After a rolling shake that dislodged Lex's hand, the other turned slowly, menace apparent in every move, and began to growl, "My name is Kal. Now, fuck...." The remainder of the angry dismissal choked off, and hazel eyes widened in disbelief. "Lex...?" A large hand came up between them...and then dropped back to Clark's side. The look of wonder faded and an indifferent mask slid into place, matching his offhand remark. "So, the papers were right. You're not dead after all."

Lex hated the sight of Clark shutting down, regretted the fact that his young friend had learned that particular trick from him. He wanted...needed...the grin, the laughing eyes that had teased his dreams while he waited for a second chance. Willing to expose his underbelly, if that was what it took, he reached out again and clasped Clark's hand. He leaned in and asked, "Can we go somewhere...and talk? Please?"

He was encouraged when Clark didn't pull away immediately and, after a moment, he got the answer he was praying for when Clark jerked his head toward the rear exit. Still holding Lex's hand, he bulled his way through the dancers and out the heavy fire door. Emerging into a moonlit alley, the two men waited until the door closed and cut off the pounding beat of the music.

Clark spoke first. "What do you want, Lex?"

Lex looked down at the hand still cradled in his and noted a familiar-looking ring with a red stone. Memory tickled at his brain, but he ignored it in favor of staying in the moment. "I needed to see you, Clark. I...."

Yanking his hand free, Clark shoved it through his unruly locks as he insisted, "I go by Kal, now, and shouldn't you be home with your...wife?" He backed away a few steps and crossed his arms on his chest, his mouth twisted in a sneer. "Go home, Lex."

There was more than enough light from the over-bright moon to see the changes in Clark; a studied harshness that had replaced a normally sweet disposition, the impression of urban menace buried in the lines of a farm-bred body. Lex mourned the loss of innocence, and tried to resurrect the past with a simple plea. "I missed you, Clark, so much. I made a terrible mistake with Helen, almost a fatal one. You're all I thought about while I was stuck on that island." He stepped closer and placed his hand atop Clark's crossed arms. "Please, can't we...be friends, Clark?"

Knowing that Clark could see everything in his face, Lex held himself still, let Clark see his vulnerability and need. That was all it used to take to get Clark to go along with Lex's requests, and Lex hoped that Clark hadn't changed that much. The cold, narrowed eyes that studied him made Lex shiver in the warm night, and he began to think that Chloe had been right...and he'd been too late.

The hand that shot out to pull Lex close was startling, the lips that crushed his were even more so. Lex didn't fight it. He'd wanted Clark for so long that it was an integral part of him, an accepted state, and to have Clark apparently feel the same was not to be scorned. He swayed forward with a moan, and the heat of Clark's body, the hard strength in the arms that wrapped around him, jolted through Lex with a rush that left him hard and aching.

Clark pulled back to look down into Lex's face, although he never loosened his hold. Lex was startled by a flare of red in Clark's passion-widened pupils, but then he quickly decided that it was probably a trick of the unnaturally bright moonlight. The smile that spread across Clark's face was not his usual grin; instead, it was feral, containing a primal hunger that matched Lex's. The growled words that rumbled through Clark's chest burrowed deep inside Lex and coiled possessively at the base of his spine. "Not friends, Lex. I want to fuck you." A thrust of his hips proved Clark's point, Lex's breath catching at the size, the heat that grazed his belly and settled into the narrow curve of his hip.

All thought of discussion evaporated. Lex's response was simple...and inevitable. "Yes."

Clark's sudden release sent Lex staggering. His words were just as abrupt. "Let's go. Your place. I don't feel like taking you up against a dumpster." He looked down at Lex and raised a mocking eyebrow. "Unless that's what you'd prefer?"

Feeling as if he needed to reassert some level of control, Lex snapped out, "I'm not that desperate. Come on. My car's parked in front." Spinning on his heel, he led the way out of the alley, hoping that Clark would follow him, afraid to look back and repeat Orpheus' mistake. The click of leather heels close behind reassured him, and some of the tension bled from his tightly-strung nerves.

The wait for his Porsche was aggravating, the doorman needing several tries before his cell phone would connect so that he could call the valet. Finally, the distinctive growl of the engine cut through the night, and the moon picked out the silver gleam of the car's fluid lines as it skidded to a stop in front of Lex. Annoyed at the delay, Lex still handed over a substantial tip, unwilling to lose the reputation that gained him entree to any club or restaurant he chose. In less than a minute, he and Clark were roaring away from the curb, en route to the penthouse.

. . .

Standing on the opposite side of the elevator, Lex took the opportunity to inspect Clark a little more closely. He was leaning casually against the brass handrail, arms crossed, and a self-confident smirk twisting his full lips. His hair was longer than Lex had ever seen it before, curling over the collar of the close-fitting black shirt, and his black leather pants fit like a second skin over stylish Italian leather half-boots. No jewelry was in sight, except for the ring, which drew Lex's eye again. Clark saw him looking at it and held his hand up. "Yeah, it's the same one, at least the same style."

The elevator doors slid open, but Lex was unable to contain his curiosity until they were in the penthouse. He had to know. "It changes you somehow, doesn't it? Meteorite?"

Clark shrugged and then nodded as he preceded Lex out of the elevator. "It makes me...feel...better. That's all that's important."

Keying the code to enter, Lex waited for the system to unlock the door. He pushed it open and waved Clark inside. He didn't bother to turn on any lights. There was more than enough illumination from outside to see where they were going. Feeling oddly unsettled now that they were at their destination, Lex prowled to the bar for a drink. He automatically set out two tumblers, but hesitated when it came time to pour the Scotch. The arms around his waist did little to clear his head; neither did the sharp nip to the top of his spine. He had to work hard to keep his voice even. "I guess asking you if you want something to drink is...."

A large hand removed the glass decanter from Lex's slightly trembling hand and placed it on the bar. The warm chuckle that tickled his arm sent a shiver through him. "No, Lex. No drink. Bed. I'm looking forward to seeing where a Luthor sleeps...and fucks."

Turning inside the circle of Clark's arms, Lex slid a hand along a broad shoulder and then sunk his fingers deep inside the dark, silky locks that had teased his skin. He did some nipping of his own, the edge of Clark's jaw proving to be too tempting to resist. "It's down the hall, second door on the left."

Clark made no reply, but he did shift his hands downward and then lifted. Lex's legs came up automatically to wrap around Clark's hips, his arms around Clark's neck as he continued to explore his prize with teeth, lips and tongue. He'd always known Clark was strong, but the effortless way he bore Lex toward the bedroom brought home just how much strength was contained in his sculpted body. It sent a frisson of excitement up Lex's spine and he tightened his hold as Clark walked through the penthouse.

In the bedroom, Clark let Lex down but still held him close, his hands exploring the planes of Lex's body while their kisses grew ever deeper. Clothing became inconvenient and, in Lex's case, useless for future wearing as Clark shredded it during removal. Clark's own clothing fared better, merely dropping to the floor, instead floating down in pieces.

Retreating slowly from the whirlwind known as Clark, Lex backed up to the bed, and then sat down abruptly with a startled laugh. Clark followed. His intentions were very apparent...and very hard. He stood in front of Lex and waited, not speaking a word, his face saying everything. Lex reached out and, with a hand on Clark's hip, brought him in closer, between Lex's legs. He had no need for games. He had waited and wanted for too long, so he simply opened his mouth and tasted and then stretched his mouth over the velvety soft tip.

Clark's hands clenched, but not into Lex's skin. Instead, he rested his fists on Lex's shoulders as he groaned his approval of Lex's talented lips and tongue. He restrained himself, not thrusting forward even though it was clear that it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to hold back. Finally, he pulled himself free, shoving Lex back gently, but firmly. He rasped, "I want to fuck you."

Lex blinked up at him, slowly emerging from his sensual haze. He nodded and shifted back on the bed, rolling to the side long enough to open a nightstand drawer and pull out condoms along with a bottle of lubricant. He dropped the items on the bed in time to accept the weight of Clark's body, his legs opening to let the younger man settle between them, the heat of Clark's cock scalding the hollow of his hip, rough curls teasing the tender skin of his own aching length.

Groaning at the sensation, Clark ground down gently, his hips moving slowly as he licked his way into Lex's mouth. His hands held him up far enough so that Lex could breathe, at least so he could whenever their mouths separated long enough to let him. Close to the edge, Lex pushed Clark back and gasped, "I want to come with you in me!"

Clark dropped his forehead to Lex's and panted for a few moments before shifting back to kneel between Lex's legs. Fumbling for the bottle of lube, he managed to open it and anoint his fingers while Lex was busy applying a condom for him, anxious to avoid any delay in gratification. Protection in place, Lex relaxed back onto the bed and pulled his knees up to allow Clark better access.

Clark moaned at the sight of Lex offering himself and his hand shook a little as his slick finger traced and then eased into his destination. Lex hissed at the stretch from the thick digit, and Clark waited patiently for him to relax enough to allow him to move. With a nod, Lex signaled him to continue. Clark twisted gently, slowly feeling the tight muscle soften until it was time for a second, and then finally a third. Lex, too impatient to wait any longer, insisted, "Enough. Now, Clark."

Lifting Lex's legs to his shoulders, Clark positioned himself and then pressed forward steadily until he popped past the entrance. Lex groaned, his eyes closing at the intense sensation and he panted through the burn until he was able to urge Clark to move forward. Slowly, they came together until there was nothing between them. Clark withdrew slowly and then surged forward, and Lex curled up to kiss Clark's neck and chest, his contortions worthy of gymnastic gold.

Lex shuddered at the press and slide and, after relaxing back, he wrapped his hand around his cock to increase his pleasure. Clark noticed, and gently replaced Lex's hand with his own, using the leftover lube on his fingers to ease the erotic friction. The doubled stimulus was soon too much and with a sharp cry, Lex pulsed over Clark's fingers, clenching down and bringing Clark along with him after a half-dozen more strokes. Clark thrust deep and jerked as he emptied himself in the heat of Lex's core, his soft groan of Lex's name a sweet balm after so long apart.

Slowly, regretfully, Clark slid free and let Lex's legs fall to the mattress before rolling to the side. Condom disposed of, a corner of a sheet was pressed into service for cleanup, and then the two men silently settled in close together. As if by mutual agreement, there was no attempt by either of them to discuss what had happened. They simply closed their eyes...and held on tight.

. . .

The moon was so dazzling that it roused Lex from his pleasant lethargy. Reluctantly rolling away from Clark, and onto his side facing the window, he propped his head up and wondered at the light that washed over the city. No stars were visible, they couldn't complete against the glare, and Lex tried to figure out what it was that bothered him about the uncanny glow. It was bright enough to read by and, when Lex blinked, he discovered that it was brilliant enough to leave an afterimage.

His initial carnal hunger appeased, Lex's scientific curiosity was aroused. Lex reviewed what little he knew about the moon. The one fact that he kept coming back to was that moonlight was reflected sunlight.

The moon was reflecting the sunlight that was currently shining on the other half of the Earth.

The extraordinarily intense sunlight.

Too intense.

Clark shifted and wrapped himself around Lex, his chest to Lex's back, his chin digging slightly into Lex's shoulder as he took in the view. Lex recalled that Clark had always been interested in astronomy, his telescope not just used to peer through Lana Lang's window. As they both stared at the puzzling phenomenon, Lex could feel Clark stiffen when he intuited the reason.

"Fuck."  It was a quiet protest, slipping out on a resigned sigh. Clark released Lex and rolled to his back, his forearm over his eyes. Lex shifted to his stomach so that he could watch Clark. It was only a few moments later that Clark took a deep breath and sat up, his arm dropping to his lap. With a glance at his ring, Clark jumped out of bed and began picking up his clothes. When Lex just stared, baffled by his behavior, Clark walked over to the bed and swatted Lex on his ass. "Get dressed."

"Why?"

"I've always wanted to see the ocean."

. . .

. . .

. . .

O Phoebus, hadst thou never given consent

That Phaethon should cheque thy fiery steeds,

Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth!

Wm. Shakespeare: Henry VI 2.6.11-16

"You do realize that we can't run away from this, right?" Lex was in his closet picking out clothes, unable to tune out the mocking internal commentator that pointed out they would have to last the rest of his life. Not hearing any answer from Clark, he grabbed the first shirt and pair of pants that came to hand and walked back out into the bedroom. Clark, already dressed, stood at the window, one hand splayed against the glass as if to thrust away the intruding light. "Clark?"

Clark shook his head, a wry chuckle escaping before he acknowledged, "Yes, Lex, I know." He pointed just south of the zenith where a star flared, the only one brilliant enough to outshine the outrageous moon. "That's Jupiter."

After arbitrarily deciding that underwear was not required for the few remaining hours, Lex slipped on his pants and zipped them up before thrusting his arms into his shirt. He joined Clark at the window while he buttoned and tucked, noting, "That's amazing. I've never seen it so bright before."

"You never will again." The irony in his statement unmistakable, Clark turned away from the window and cupped Lex's shoulders, leaning down to place a surprisingly gentle kiss in the center of his forehead. "Hurry up, I want to get going."

Lex frowned in frustration and sat down to pull on socks, glancing around the room for the shoes he'd worn earlier. One had been left next to the bed, the other was nowhere in sight. "I need my shoe," he grumbled, "and have you seen my cell phone? I need to call the airport...."

The missing shoe landed on the bed next to him, while the errant phone appeared in Clark's hand. Clark closed his fist and Lex heard the crunch of demolished electronics. "It wasn't going to work anyway, not with all the satellites fried." A self-indulgent grin ignored Lex's inarticulate protest. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of the transportation. Let's go."

. . .

Still reeling a little from his cross-country run in Clark's arms, Lex stood on the sand just above the waterline, and wondered how much more surreal his final night on Earth could get.

"Stop thinking so hard, Lex. You're making my head hurt."

The whisper in his ear made Lex shiver, despite the warmth of the summer night. He bent down to pick up a shell that glimmered against the sparkling crystals of the sand. Absently turning his prize over in his hand, Lex stared out over the water. The too-brilliant moonlight scintillated in the calmer water and highlighted the froth of the larger waves. "I could ask about your strength and the speed, but instead, I keep wondering why you aren't freaking out about all this? Does it have something to do with the ring...and that scar?"

Clark's voice had moved a few feet away. "You just can't shut that brain of yours off, can you? Actually, I guess I'm a little surprised you didn't say something about the scar before. It's not like I tried to hide it."

Lex shrugged and then threw the shell out into the waves. "Chloe warned me about the scar, but she didn't know how or why. To be honest, I was a little...distracted earlier. So?"

Squatting down so that he could trace patterns in the packed sand, Clark muttered absently, "None of it matters anymore." He rubbed the red stone in his ring and twisted the band around his finger before he looked up at Lex. "Yeah, the ring has a lot to do with being able to deal with...things. You could say it's the only drug that works on me." He stood back up and shrugged, "I'm sure as hell not going to take it off now, just so you can see me act like goody two-shoes Clark before you die."

"Clark, I didn't mean...."

"Hell, Lex. I just wanted to do something different before we find out what the morning has in store for us. No hearts and flowers, okay? It's bad enough...." Clark's arms rose and spread out, he threw his head back, and then shouted, "Hey! I'm the king of the world!"

Shocked laughter burst from Lex at the spectacle of Clark imitating Leonardo DiCaprio...on semi-dry land and wearing black leather. "A little over the top, Clark? Not that you have any competition around here, of course."

Dropping his arms, Clark shook his head. "Not really, Lex. I could have been sitting on a throne somewhere, if I hadn't decided my father was fucking nuts."

"Jonathan? What...."

"Lex, really long story...and I'd rather do something...anything else. We're running out of time. Do you really want to spend what we have left...talking?"

Lex studied his friend...his lover for a moment before agreeing, "No, I don't. It's habit for me, I guess, asking questions when I'm...uncertain...." He rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. "I'm even a little annoyed that I'm the only one on this beach who's afraid of what's going to happen when the sun...."

"You don't understand. It's not the thought of dying that scares me, Lex." Clark shook his head as he stared out at the ocean he'd always wanted to see.

"The sun's going to come up, a sun bright enough to light up fucking Jupiter...and you're not afraid?"

"Not of burning up with everyone else, Lex!" Clark turned back to look at Lex, and the anguish in his eyes took Lex's breath away.

"Clark?"

Lex almost missed Clark's whisper in the constant shush of the waves.

"I'm fucking terrified that I'm going to...live."

. . .

Something there is more immortal even than the stars,

(Many the burials, many the days and nights, passing away,)

Something that shall endure longer even than lustrous Jupiter,

Longer than sun or any revolving satellite,

Or the radiant sisters the Pleiades.

Walt Whitman: On the Beach at Night

"Cassandra." The name was muttered into the side of Lex's neck while Clark's hands kneaded Lex's shoulders to the point of pain. "She saw me alone, everyone else in their graves." Pulling back, Clark surveyed Lex's face, his reddened eyes watching for Lex's reaction. "Yours was the only gravestone missing, and I thought that meant you...but then you died...and maybe that meant the vision was wrong." His face twisted in anguish as he dropped his hands and stumbled backwards. "But it wasn't wrong, was it?" He threw his head back and raged at the moon in a wordless howl before dropping to his knees in the sand.

Lex knew that he was missing something important that he needed to know to understand Clark's despair. It wasn't simply fear of a sun going nova and destroying all life on Earth. Clark was implying there was a chance that he could survive the coming holocaust...alone. Dropping to his knees in front of Clark, he gathered the trembling young man into his arms. Pressing Clark's heavy head against his chest, he asked carefully, "Are you saying you can't...die?"

A careless shrug was his only answer until Clark straightened up enough to look into Lex's face again. "I don't know, nothing has...the truck exploded and the ship, too...I lived through it. Maybe, if I got some of the kryptonite...."

"Kryptonite?"

Clark nodded slowly and held up his hand with the ring. "The meteorites, from my planet, the green ones hurt me."

When meaning behind Clark's words finally penetrated Lex's worry, he sat back on the sand with a thump. "Are you telling me that...you're an alien?" He could feel a disbelieving grin begin to split his face. "You have...had a ship? A spaceship?"

An echoing grin bloomed across Clark's amazed face and he burst out, "You're un-freaking-believable, Lex. With everything that's happening...the sun going nova so that we're facing Hell on Earth...and all you care about...is whether we used to keep a fucking spaceship in our root cellar?"

In a flash, Clark's volatile emotions had suffered a sea change and he was giddy with laughter. It spilled over, and Lex joined him in great whoops of ridiculous black humor. They fell together in a quaking jumble of limbs, holding each other until they subsided to the occasional giggle. Rolling to his back, Lex looked back at the Los Angeles skyline. It was still unnaturally bright under the setting moon, alive despite the inevitable passage of the night hours. He turned his head and looked into Clark's oddly serene face, and then whispered in a laugh-roughened voice, "I have an idea."

. . .

"Wow, this place is incredible. When was the last time you were here, Lex?"

"Never. I commissioned it when it was still in the planning phase. I used some of my inheritance...and regretted it almost immediately when it came time for the plant buyout." Lex crossed the living room to the balcony doors. Sheltered from the high winds encountered 76 stories above the ground, the balcony commanded an unparalleled view of the Pacific Ocean. "It was all about owning the best view here, and that meant buying the top floor of the tallest residential building in Los Angeles."

"Lex?" Lex followed Clark's muffled voice into the next room. "If you've never been here..." The doors of a giant side-by-side refrigerator were flung wide open, and Clark straightened up holding a bottle of champagne and hunk of cheese. He waved toward the shelves inside, stocked with food and drink of every description. "...then why is all this food here?"

Lex shrugged before reaching inside the pristine white interior to pull out a familiar blue bottle of water. "That's what I pay people for...to anticipate my needs."

Clark shook his head after sending an incredulous look in Lex's direction. "I think I need to try one of everything. Did you see what's in here?" He began to yank out armfuls of food and dumping it on the table before he suddenly stopped and looked around intently at the surrounding cabinets. With a nod of satisfaction, he opened a drawer in a tall cupboard and pulled out a cream-colored tablecloth, which he spread out and then piled high with his booty from the refrigerator, adding crackers and bread from a sealed bin in the counter.

"Planning a...picnic?" Lex laughed when Clark flashed a grin at him and nodded in agreement. He stepped back to let Clark walk by with his impromptu linen food bag and then followed him back out into the living room. By the time Lex reached Clark's new location, Clark had spread everything out, and was pulling off his clothes. Lex's eyebrows rose and he chuckled in appreciation, "Nude picnicking in the penthouse. I have to admit that's a first for me."

Appropriating an edge of the tablecloth to sit on, Clark smirked up at Lex. "What's taking you so long? Think we've got all night?" The edge in his voice made it clear that he hadn't forgotten what they were facing, but had chosen to relegate it to the back of his mind and living in the moment.

Looking out the window at the still-brilliant sky, Lex frowned for a moment, and then forced his face back into a smile as he toed off his shoes and socks. As he pulled his shirt over his head, he ordered, "Open up that champagne, slowpoke. I'm thirsty." His pants followed the shirt to the floor and Lex lowered himself to the linen at the opposite corner from Clark, adopting an elegant lotus position in contrast to Clark's lazy sprawl. He accepted the bottle of champagne from Clark, who'd taken a substantial gulp from it before handing it over. A quick scan revealed Clark hadn't brought out any glasses, dishes or utensils, so Lex shrugged and raised the bottle to his lips for a mouthful of the fizzing liquid, wrinkling his nose at the inevitable tickle. Checking the label, he smiled. "I must say it's an interesting way to drink a one thousand dollar bottle of wine."

"You, Lex Luthor, are a snob." Dropping the ripe pear he'd been eating, Clark reached out and snatched the bottle back, tipped his head back and poured it a stream of golden bubbles into his mouth, the excess dripping over his chin and down onto his chest. He grinned as he spotted Lex watching avidly, and licked his reddened lips before picking his pear back up and biting into the sweet flesh with a hum of satisfaction.

Lex felt his mouth watering at the sight of the juice that slicked Clark's lips, and he quickly looked down at the bounty spread before him, searching for the right props to join the game. His eyes lit on a pint of raspberries and covered cup of creme fraiche. Flipping off the lid of the container, he dipped one finger in to test the texture and flavor. It was perfect, the cool slide and tang reminding him of Parisian breakfasts in sidewalk cafes. He dipped a fat berry into it and then leaned across to offer it to Clark, who'd been watching his every move with hungry eyes. "Try this."

Clark opened his mouth and let Lex tuck the berry inside, his lips catching Lex's fingers as they slowly withdrew. He chewed slowly and smiled, his green eyes crinkling with pleasure. "Mmmm...it's good." Rolling over and getting to his hands and knees, he swept aside bowls and white paper packages, fruit and cheeses tumbling off the edge of the linen. He crawled toward Lex slowly, licking his lips, his eyes never leaving Lex's as he drew nearer. "More," he rumbled, sending a shiver up Lex's spine...and a jolt of arousal down it.

Lex fumbled for another berry and blindly scooped up the creamy mass with it, watching Clark watch him as he placed it on the tip of his tongue. He held still so that Clark could sweep it away with his tongue, his lips sucking on Lex's until he was sure every trace of the treat was gone. Clark pressed him back to the plush carpet and settled between Lex's open thighs, his mouth seeking new flavors hidden in Lex's skin. The creme fraiche cup tipped, but Clark snatched it before it could spill, and he scooped out a finger's worth to paint one of Lex's nipples, laughing when Lex hissed and squirmed at the chilling touch. His mouth apologized by warming the abused flesh and Lex arched into the pleasure, wordlessly asking for more.

Clark obliged by painting and soothing the other until Lex fisted his hair, yanked his head back, and growled, "Fuck me!" Clark, his eyes dilated with passion, nodded and drew back, halting when Lex informed him, "There should be condoms in the nightstand...." He stopped at the sight of Clark's comically raised eyebrows and laughed at his mistake. "Right. Kind of foolish thought, isn't it?" He grinned up at Clark and then pointed out, "Another first. I've never barebacked before." Repressing the sudden urge to say something about it being the last, he instead concentrated on Clark's fingers and mouth as they moved down his body in tandem lines.

He shoved impatiently when Clark took too long investigating the dip of his navel, teasing it with his tongue and cooling puffs of breath. Shifted away from his target, Clark retaliated by palming Lex's buttocks and lifting him up until he was poised a few inches from Clark's mouth, balanced on his shoulders and grunting in protest at the manhandling. The complaints evaporated at the first swipe of Clark's tongue, his thumbs holding Lex open so that he missed nothing. Lex yelped at the first thrust of an unnaturally strong tongue, and then embarrassed himself with a stream of babble consisting mostly of threats of Clark's immediate demise if he dared stop. Clark ignored the noise and devoted himself to reducing Lex to a shaking mass of aroused nerve endings.

Finally, Clark lowered Lex back down and slid back up to kiss him, smiling into his mouth as he admitted, "I thought I'd like doing that...and I did." Lex just moaned and thrust upward to try to relieve the ache, his fingers clenching on Clark's shoulders when he kept himself just out of reach. Tearing his mouth away, Lex shouted, "Fuck me already, you teasing bastard!" He thumped a fist against Clark's bicep when Clark merely chuckled at his demand.

Then, he felt cool fingers slicking him, penetrating easily since Clark's tongue had already prepared the way. There was a thump of something landing close to his head, and Lex looked to see what Clark had dropped. He laughed at the sight of the nearly empty cup of creme fraiche, finally realizing what Clark had found to replace the lube that was far too many steps away. It would work just fine as far as Lex was concerned, and he thumped Clark's back with a heel to keep him on task. Clark grunted obligingly, although Lex knew that he couldn't hurt him, and then Lex felt him shift and a blunt pressure seared away the cool slickness.

Mouth compressed and breathing deeply through his nose, Lex willed himself to relax, afraid that Clark would stop if he thought Lex was in too much pain to continue. The burn continued as Clark pressed forward slowly, inexorably, and Lex felt the sting of tears until he clenched his eyes shut. Clark's tongue licked them out of the corners, and he murmured soft apologies in Lex's ear as he began to move slowly, his belly pressing against Lex's and gradually reviving his flagging interest in the proceedings.

The slow glide and pressure stole all of Lex's attention, the steady rhythm ratcheting up his arousal until he was pushing back, straining to feel every inch of Clark, each grind and thrust that touched off waves of pleasure to erase the earlier pain. His fingers dug into Clark's hips, pulling and tugging each time Clark withdrew to force him to return faster, harder, deeper. He could hear himself begging for more and felt no shame at the loss of control, his need for release too strong to care. Clark's voice was there also, his words broken and filled with Lex's name and pledges of devotion.

They both quickened, Clark's hand stole between them to provide the extra bit of pressure Lex required, and Lex was shouting as his vision hazed and his spine melted and every nerve ending in his body was a flashpoint. Clark was groaning and his teeth burned the base of Lex's neck until the ache made his shoulder cramp, and he could feel Clark's heat inside him, the pulse and the spread of slick heat on his belly and the press of Clark's weight against him and he never wanted it to end.

But just as always, it did.

Lex poked Clark in the ribs to get him to shift a little, and suppressed a hiss as Clark slid free and off to the side. Stretching out the ache, he rolled to his side and caressed the side of Clark's face, enjoying the sated look settling on his features. He leaned forward, kissed the corner of Clark's lips, and suggested, "Hey, let's go check out the bathtub. If I remember what I ordered, I think you'll like that, too."

. . .

Jove lifts the golden balances that show

The fates of mortal men, and things below.

Homer: The Iliad, Book xxii. Line 271.

"So, I wonder what it's like right now at the Griffith Park Observatory."

Clark's deceptively idle remark brought Lex's thoughts back to the present, and he resented the loss of the pleasant haze he'd been cultivating with sex and alcohol. He shifted impatiently in the blood-warm water that filled the sunken tub, an elbow connecting with the ribs of the man seated behind him and earning Lex a huff of surprise. He ignored the muffled protest, perfectly aware that he hadn't hurt Clark, and settled back against his expansive chest with a sigh. "I guess it would depend on how obsessive a particular astronomer is, and whether he or she is interested in watching their death approaching via telescope. An equally useful alternative might be paint a sign and carry it around chanting 'the end is near' and exhorting the sinners to repent."

Clark snickered at Lex's wry imitation of a religious fanatic, and then he mused aloud, "I can't help thinking that the odds must be astronomical...having the second world I've lived on die, too." He shrugged, sending a ripple through the water. "Back on the beach, I thought about trying to run us across the water to Hawaii, but then I realized...."

Lex interrupted, "...we'd meet the shock wave coming at us from the other direction. Yeah, I know." Restless and wanting to avoid any further discussion, he pulled away from Clark and stood up, the water cascading from his body as he stepped up and out of the tub. He didn't bother to grab a towel, simply dripped his way back into the living room, headed for the bar...and the decanter of scotch sitting on it. He sloshed a double into crystal, and it seared its way past the lump in his throat to curl up warm in his belly.

"I'm sorry, Lex." The words were as quiet as Clark's steps had been, and Lex melted back into his broad chest as Clark's strong arms took up the burden of Lex's despair. The prickle of stubble rasped across the back of Lex's head, and then lips soothed the burn. "We don't have to talk." His chin came to rest in the crook of Lex's neck, and he muffled his words against the damp skin beneath Lex's ear. "We don't have to say...anything."

. . .

The brandy bottle weighed heavy in Lex's hand as it dangled over the side of the chair. He was slumped deep inside the overstuffed cushions, his legs splayed carelessly and his hooded eyes trained on the open balcony doors. It was dark outside with the moon below the horizon, but not completely without light. Streamers of color wavered in the sky, rainbow bands that shimmered and danced at the edge of dawn. 

Clark stood out there, facing toward the east, waiting. There had been no more words, just as he'd said, just a kiss or two before he'd gone outside to breathe in the balmy night air.

Alone.

Lex tried to summon the energy to join him, to make the effort to be there at the end...and failed. His brain had become stuck in an endless review of facts, hearing their death sentences read out in the heartless court of scientific law. He cursed his all-too-vivid imagination and raised the heavy bottle to his lips in the hopes of silencing the vicious litany within his pounding head.

He'd given up on calculating the odds on whether fire or steam would kill them first, on which wave...sunlight or water...would win the fatal race. It was too much trouble to turn his head and check the clock on the wall, so he just sat there and watched Clark. Clark, the one thing he'd wanted for so long, had finally possessed, and was now losing long before he could tire of him...as if he ever could.

Another drink, and then he saw Clark's head raise a little higher and a tremor pass through the body that reminded Lex of famed sculptures once half a world away...now consumed by fire. A different light was arriving to chase the delicate colors from the sky. The world around them held its breath...and then Clark stood transmuted, transfixed by the raging star.

He blazed and his arms rose until he hung cruciform in mid-air, head flung back and eyes wide, flinging red heat back to the heartless sky. Lex tried to look away, to refuse the sight of Clark's agony and postpone his own, but bright beauty held him motionless, the molten sheen of muscle, flesh, and sinew capturing his eyes and his heart and his soul as nothing ever had...as nothing ever would again. A soundless scream and Clark burned without flame, a searing actinic glare that brought tears of pain...and forced Lex's eyes closed without his permission.

Pinned to his chair by leaden muscles, Lex heard something he'd only encountered once before, a rolling freight train miles long and wide. It had arrived then carrying shards of colored glass, but this time it was washing the Augean stables of the world clean with an ocean. Sound pounded though the silent world and a different darkness held reign.

The warm water slashing through open doors brought Lex bolt upright, his eyes squinting against the salted barrage. Warm, not steaming and no sun, no fire, no pain, not dead.

Alive.

He was alive...and Clark was lying on the floor of the balcony, motionless beneath the onslaught.

Not a nova, a flare. A world-searing, but not world-destroying flare...and Clark still wasn't moving under a rain that left no air to breathe, the gray ash coating his body washing away in the torrent.

"Clark!" Lex scrambled to his feet and nearly fell before he changed it to forward momentum, his bottle abandoned in his determined advance. Standing, the wind became his adversary, denying his progression forward until he dropped to his hands and knees to crawl. "Clark!" His cries went no further than his own ears, torn away by the gale's rage and he saved his energy for the struggle that hastened with the chatter of sharp hail that cut the air and Lex's skin. Red bloomed on tender flesh, and Lex roared his pain to the uncaring storm.

A final foot, and Clark was there, cold beneath Lex's hands and light, too light as if he'd burned away all that he was, all he contained, in that final surging flare. Almost weightless...and Lex was able to pull him inside, the wind a friend now, instead of an enemy, chivvying them back within their fold suspended high above the pounding waves. Lex's muscles strained, but he was able to close out the storm, and the roar subsided to rhythmic thudding...and he could breathe again.

He hoped that Clark was breathing, too.

"Clark?" His hands shook as he checked for a pulse, finally finding one, thin and irregular beneath his fingers. Clark was cold, his breaths shallow, and Lex struggled not to panic in the absence of any medical assistance. "Clark, can you hear me?" Chafing Clark's chilled hands, Lex noticed the ring was gone, a blistered band of healing skin the only evidence of its existence. He shuddered at the thought of the temperature required to melt gold, and no longer wondered why Clark was so diminished.

He struggled to his feet and hurried into the bedroom, stripping off blankets and sheets and carrying them back to the living room. The carpet squished under his feet and he reversed direction, dropping his burden on the sofa before returning to Clark's side. He lifted him too easily, and he carried Clark's limp body straight to the bedroom, deciding it would be the best place for them both. Worried at the continued lack of response, he arranged Clark carefully on the bed and retrieved the covers and several bottles of water, angered at his uncharacteristic inefficiency. Finally, they were both tucked away from the storm, safe in the darkened room.

Wrapping Clark up and taking him into his arms, Lex murmured quiet assurances, the spoken words meaningless while his mind whirled with questions. All evidence had pointed to the apocalypse, yet they were still there, two of the fortunate few considering the strength of the storm raging outside. The tower had been built to stand world-shattering earthquakes, wind and rain would not bring it down, but that would not be the case for most of the world. His final glimpse outside had revealed a natural fury that few could withstand.

He thought about possibilities and probabilities, of dinosaurs and geological records, astronauts finding evidence on the moon, of Jupiter's gleaming threat and the moon's bright herald. He wondered how much of the polar caps had melted this time, and if Europe and Asia, the first to meet that raging sun, had any hope of survival.

He and Clark would survive. They were above the destruction, they had water and food to last weeks, even months, since his people were...had been...highly efficient at their jobs. And, when it came time to descend, they had each other.

"We're going to live, Clark, I promise. We just need to keep it together a little while longer. You need to hang on...please, just stay with me."

The wisp of a voice that finally answered his plea forced Lex to hold on even tighter, terrified that the body in his arms would float away without him, would leave him alone in a world gone mad.

"How long...Lex?"

Lex had no need to run the calculations in his head. The myths he'd read in his carefree youth had held the answers all along.

"Forty days and forty nights, Clark, and then...we'll see the sun again."

fin

within it wondered

if the god mocked me.

But since then, though it flickers or

shrinks to a

blue bead on the wick,

there’s that in me that

burns and chills, blackening

my heart with its soot,

flaring in laughter, stinging

my feet into a dance, so that

I think sometimes not Apollo heard me

but a different god.

Denise Levertov: The Prayer

***

Notes: This story was inspired by re-reading the classic Inconstant Moon, the 1972 Hugo Winner by Larry Niven. In my case, spending time reading in the bathtub means bunnies feel free to attack.

Standard Disclaimer:  I do not own any of the characters herein. The characters of Lex Luthor and Clark Kent as well as any supporting characters are the property of their creators and DC Comics. Gough/Millar Inc and the WB Network TV own Smallville. Any deviations (or deviant behavior) from the originals, however, is mine.

Feedback is both welcome and appreciated.

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