Destiny’s Whore by Glacis. Rated NC17, spoilers for the Smallville
episode Skinwalker.
Staring at the octagonal
hole in the center of the cave painting, Lex wondered idly if there were some
sort of magnetic properties in the rock.
He certainly couldn’t seem to stay away.
In the month since LexCorp purchased title to the land, he’d found
himself walking through the caves, staring at the surreal images all around
him, three or four times a week.
The legend of Naman clung to
his subconscious mind, weaving through his dreams, bringing the scenes flowing
over the rocks to life whenever he closed his eyes. If he believed in such nonsense he’d think he
was being haunted. Only in the dreams,
of course, it was no coarse, two-dimensional space-creature who lifted ten men
at once and shot streams of fire from his eyes.
It was
More than once, Lex woke
screaming into his pillow, caught between coming in the sheets and rolling in
them to put out the phantom fire eating at his skin. He’d never been one to shy away from
self-analysis, knowing that knowledge was power and he had to command himself
before he could command the world … but such dreams tempted him to bury his
subconscious as deeply as possible.
He wasn’t used to scaring himself. He didn’t like the feeling.
Playing the flashlight beam
over the concentric circles swirling over an outcropping of rock, his eyes
followed the lines to the figure of a woman.
A bracelet encircled her wrist.
Her head was tilted back and she appeared to be pleading or crying out
to a two-headed male figure. One head
was blue, with an eye painted in the center of its face that seemed to pull the
onlooker in to some other reality. The
other was the red of freshly-spilled blood, lips pulled back to show fearsome
teeth. The heads stared at one another,
as if poised on the brink of attack or embrace.
He couldn’t tell which.
“Compelling, aren’t they?”
Joseph Willowbrook’s voice
coming out of nowhere startled Lex so badly he almost dropped the flashlight. Controlling his instinctive jump, he peered
at the old man over his shoulder.
“Very,” he admitted. “From the moment
Black eyes pierced him,
weighing him. Lex wondered, fleetingly,
what the shaman saw, when he looked at Lex’s soul. After a long moment, the eyes finally moved
away, sweeping over the paintings in much the same way Lex had moments earlier.
“
Considering and rejecting
responses ranging from sarcastic commentary on secrets to multiple meanings of
unique, Lex was slow to answer. Staring
back up at the two-headed figure, he shrugged.
Before he could say anything, the ground suddenly shook beneath his
feet.
He reached out to steady
Joseph. The old man yelled something in
his native tongue, hands stretching toward the wall. Lex ducked instinctively as a section of wall
sheared off. The slabs of red rock
barely missed his head, glancing off his shoulder and knocking him to the
ground. His right arm took the brunt of
the fall, rubble burying him from elbow past fingertips.
Coughing on the dust filling
the air, Lex choked as a searing pain went through his forearm. He’d broken bones before; it hadn’t hurt
nearly so badly. It felt as if his skin
was on fire, and he swore he could see a dim green light glowing through the
broken chunks of rock covering his arm.
Lovely. Just what he needed in his life. More meteorite-induced weirdness. He growled under his breath. Wriggled to throw off the worst of the debris
littering his clothes. Yanked at his
arm.
Passed out as the burning
pain spiked, clear through to the bone, up his arm, down his spine, and into
his chest.
The last thing he saw before
the world went black was Joseph Willowbrook’s face, eyes wide, words Lex
couldn’t understand pouring from his mouth, skin glowing green in the shadows
of the cave.
Joseph had seen many things in
his long life, many things that could only be explained by walking the path of
the spirit unknown by most men.
He’d never seen legend
rewritten before his eyes.
As the rock walls shook, the
paintings shifted, lines blurring and blending as if moved by a master’s
hand. An entire section separated from
the wall and fell, pinning young Luthor to the ground. The man fought, but was unable to escape. Then he gave a strangled scream as his body
arched against the dirt and he fainted.
Joseph was afraid to touch
the rock trapping Luthor’s hand. He’d
only seen the like in a few of his spirit wanderings, in the far lands, beyond
the earth. A glow like moss on the rocks
in the crater lake pulsed around Luthor’s arm, tendrils spreading over his body
to converge upon the center of his chest.
Pale eyes blinked up at him, then closed, as the green fire found its
home in Luthor’s heart.
At the moment the spirit
flames stopped moving, the rocks tumbled over Luthor’s arm stopped
glowing. Swallowing with a dry throat,
prayers for strength and protection still spilling from his lips, Joseph took
his courage in his hands and knelt beside the fallen man. The rocks moved easily under his hands, as if
they knew their task was complete.
By the time he’d shifted the
worst of the fall off Luthor’s arm, the young man was coming around again. Dazed light eyes stared up at him. Joseph had no idea what to say, so he said
nothing, brushing the last of the dirt and pebbles off Luthor’s torn sweater
sleeve.
“Ouch,” Luthor said weakly,
a thread of humor under his voice.
Joseph shot him a look,
reassured by what he saw. Then he
glanced over at the pile of broken rock that used to be part of a cave
painting. A woman’s face, radiating
peace and acceptance, stared back. The
fragment of rock was broken along the line of the woman’s body, and the
outstretched arm wearing the ancient token no longer existed.
“Are you all right?” he
asked quietly, placing a steadying hand between Luthor’s shoulder blades as the
younger man pulled himself to his feet.
“Yes, thank you, I’m
fine. I heal rapidly.”
The words sounded automatic,
and a little distracted.
“Are you sure nothing’s
broken? That was quite a –“
Before he could finish the
sentence Luthor gave a most undignified yelp.
Joseph felt his eyebrows go up as he watched Luthor scrabble at his
sleeve.
“What the hell?” Luthor
muttered, reaching down to pick up his flashlight then shining the light on his
arm.
Joseph stepped forward and
peered at the bloodied arm as well. “Looks
like you’re going to have some nasty bruising there.”
“I don’t …” The words trailed off as Luthor wiped the arm
hastily against his pant leg, smearing the blood away to look at the reddened
skin.
“Maybe a scar,” Joseph
continued, distracted himself by the thin purple lines striping across the
smooth white skin under all the dirt.
“I don’t scar,” Luthor
murmured. Joseph looked away from the
mark to see Luthor, staring down at his own arm as if he’d never seen it.
“Ever?” Come to think on it, there was something odd
about young Luthor. Joseph had felt it
the first time they’d met. Clark had
been more right than he knew when he’d said not all Luthors were the same; there
was a whiff of otherness about Lex that was nowhere in evidence with Lionel.
Luthor clenched his fist,
watching the thin lines move as his muscles tightened and released. “It’ll be gone by tomorrow,” he answered.
Somehow, Joseph had a
feeling it wouldn’t.
“C’mon, let’s get you
cleaned up, see if you need any patching up.”
Ignoring Luthor’s half-hearted protests, he led the young man back out
through the caves. As they left, Joseph
glanced once more over his shoulder at the painting on the rock.
The figures appeared to be
moving.
He decided to wait and
watch, and see what would become of destiny changed.
The rampant weirdness that
was Clark’s life in Smallville continued as usual. Dead people who weren’t who they were
supposed to be returned to life and caused havoc. Cows needed to be milked and math problems
needed to be solved and essays needed to be written. In the course of natural events, as defined
by the usual unnatural life he led, the ache of losing Kyla before he’d ever
really had her began to fade.
Lana needed support, and he
gave it; Pete needed help, and he gave it; Chloe needed love, and he couldn’t
give it, so he tried to be the best friend he could and hoped it would be
enough. His Mom and Dad continued to
argue and work and worry, so he made himself as useful as possible and kept out
of the way when he could. It didn’t
leave a lot of time for Lex.
Which was probably why he
had the overwhelming compulsion late one afternoon to go see Lex. Clark missed him. That had to be it. It wasn’t like Lex was in trouble, or in
danger. It was a different kind of
urgency Clark felt, and it had been building since the previous morning. When he couldn’t stand it any more, Clark did
something he hadn’t done since he’d been wearing red meteor rock, and skipped
his classes to go see his friend.
He found Lex in his office,
after ducking Lionel in the hall. He was
still a little leery of Lex’s Dad after stealing the man’s glasses and being so
rude to him. Good thing Lionel didn’t
hold a grudge. Or if he did, and going
by the way Lex talked about him it was a good bet he would, he didn’t take it
out on Clark. Or Clark’s Mom. All to the good.
Peering around the door, he
watched Lex, who didn’t know he was being watched. He was too busy staring down at his arm with
a fascinated expression on his face.
“You okay, Lex?” Clark
asked, then had to grin as Lex jumped about a foot in his chair.
“Clark! Come in,” Lex invited.
Clark stared at Lex as he
walked across the room and plopped into a chair beside the desk. “You look a little freaked.”
The hint of his usual smirk
crossed Lex’s lips, but he still looked spooked. “I’m fine,” he lied, and Clark knew he was
lying.
“What happened?” he
prodded. If Lex was upset, it was up to
Clark to dig it out of him. Otherwise
Lex would just brood, and that couldn’t be good for him.
Lex stared over at him for a
second, then went back to staring at his arm.
Clark waited.
Waited some more.
What felt like half an hour
later, he sighed. Gustily. Lex jumped again.
“Am I boring you, Clark?” he
asked, with that little laugh in his voice that told Clark he was teasing.
“Never, but I’m still
waiting for an answer to my question.”
Lex gave him a look of
honest confusion. “What question?”
With exaggerated care, Clark
asked again, “What happened?” He fixed
Lex with his brightest, most persistent ‘I’m not going to stop asking until you
tell me so you might as well save yourself the pain and spill it all right now’
look. He’d learned it from Chloe. It never worked as well when Clark did it,
but Lex caved, so for once it was good enough.
“I don’t scar,” he said out
of nowhere, and Clark cocked his head, wondering where Lex was going with
this. “I was down in the cave yesterday
looking at the paintings, and Joseph Willowbrook came along –“
“Oh, no, you didn’t get into
a fight with him, did you?” Clark broke in, unable to stop himself.
Lex rolled his eyes. Clark recognized the expression and
grinned. Lex must have been hanging out
with Martha, because that was the exact same expression she got when Clark did
something stupid. She’d probably been
using it a lot around Lionel.
“No, Clark, we didn’t get
into a fight,” Lex said slowly, like he was talking to a toddler. Clark didn’t mind. At least he was talking.
“So what happened?” he prompted.
“There was a minor temblor,
and part of the cave wall collapsed.”
Clark sat bolt upright,
unconsciously leaning toward Lex. “Are
you all right? Is Mr. Willowbrook okay?”
Lex sighed, looked like he
fought the urge to roll his eyes again, and said patiently, “Yes, we’re both
fine. It’s just …” He stared down at his arm again. “I got caught by some of the rocks, and
bruised up a little. Normally all signs
of damage would have been gone by this morning.”
Clark nearly interrupted
again, the stray thought that Lex healed amazingly fast making him wonder if it
had anything to do with getting caught in the meteor shower, but Lex was still
talking, so he bit his tongue and kept quiet.
“But it looks as if I have a
scar out of the experience. Which is
odd, because I don’t scar.”
Ah! Finally, the circular path wound back to its
beginning. Clark shook his head at the
logic loops Lex brought to every conversation, and hopped up from his chair to
take a look at Lex’s arm.
When he saw the pattern the
thin lines made, his knees went weak. He
caught the edge of the desk to stay upright.
Hearing the glass creak under his grip, he consciously eased up so he
didn’t shatter it. He could feel Lex
staring at him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the strange scar.
“What is it, Clark?” Lex
asked very softly.
Clark had to swallow twice
before he had enough spit in his mouth to get his tongue to work. “Looks like … it looks like a bracelet Kyla
wore.”
A bracelet he had wrapped in
a worn cotton bandana, stuck in his sock drawer back at the farm. And it did look like it, thin lines radiating
out from a diamond shape in the middle, simple and elegant and completely
bizarre etched in dark purple on the skin of Lex’s forearm.
It was only when Lex made a strange
gargling noise that Clark realized he was stroking his fingertips over and over
the scar. He pulled his hand away as if
it burned and looked at Lex’s face.
He’d never seen Lex turn
that shade of pink, even after he’d been hanging upside down being tasered for
hours. Lex’s eyes were huge, and he kept
licking his lips. Clark couldn’t look
away.
“Do you really
believe in destiny, Lex?” Clark asked, a variation on the same question he’d
been asking since the day Lex knocked him off the bridge. The day he’d saved Lex’s life and his own had
changed in ways he still couldn’t quite believe.
“Yes,” Lex said simply. His breathing steadied out and the flush died
down in his cheeks, but his eyes glittered in a way Clark didn’t think he’d
ever seen before.
“Do you think we’re
compelled to it? Do we have any choice?”
Lex took a deep breath, his
left hand falling over the new scar on his right forearm and squeezing until
his knuckles went white. “I’ve fought my
destiny since I was old enough to understand I had one, Clark. I’ll never be destiny’s whore, content to
roll over and take what I’m given. I
believe we have as much control over our destiny as we can take, and the extent
of control we have is measured only by the strength of our will.”
Oh. Clark looked at the hand kneading the scar,
then up at Lex’s face, gaze roving until it caught on Lex’s mouth. It was Clark’s turn to lick his lips.
“So you think our choices
matter?”
“The choices we make are all
that matter,” Lex told him firmly.
“Okay,” Clark agreed, then
leaned down, cupped the back of Lex’s skull in his hand, and kissed him.
He could feel the shock move
through Lex, then a moment of relaxation into the kiss before Lex began to
struggle. That moment gave Clark
hope. He reluctantly pulled back,
breaking the kiss but keeping his hold on Lex.
Huge gray-blue eyes stared up at him.
“Are you out of your mind?”
Lex asked abruptly. It might have made
more of an impact if it hadn’t been so breathy.
Although from the way
Clark’s cock jumped at the sound of Lex’s voice, maybe it wouldn’t have.
“Nope,” he answered, almost
whispering. “Just making a choice.” He leaned in for another kiss, and when Lex
tried to turn his head, Clark wouldn’t let him.
The soft mouth tried to harden, tried to keep him out, but he tugged
gently at Lex’s upper lip until Lex let him inside.
He didn’t know how he did
it. He knew he hadn’t used super speed
because the desk was still intact, but somehow Clark had Lex out of his chair
and into his arms. Still kissing him.
Eventually, maybe because he
was dizzy from lack of oxygen, Lex stopped fighting Clark and started kissing
him back. Clark made an muffled sound
that would have been a battle cry of ‘Yes!’ if his mouth hadn’t been full of
Lex’s tongue.
From there, thankfully,
Clark’s enthusiasm was overtaken by Lex’s experience. While Clark knew in theory what he wanted to
do, he was a complete novice when it came to actually doing it. Bare skin under his hands was
incredible. The odd burn of the new scar
made his mouth tingle when he licked it.
Lex bucked underneath him as Clark stripped him off and licked him
everywhere he could reach.
Clark always had been a
quick study.
It was a bit of a stretch of
Clark’s patience to wait until Lex stripped him in turn, instead of
super-speeding out of his clothes and getting on with it. But that secret was for another day. At the moment, Clark had a destiny to
embrace, and once he got started he didn’t want to stop.
Talking was highly
over-rated anyway.
Lex made a move Clark didn’t
know vertebrates could make and slithered down beneath him like a snake until
he had Clark’s cock in his mouth. At the
touch of Lex’s lips curling around the shaft, Clark was pretty sure his head
was going to explode. When Lex dipped
his tongue beneath the foreskin and swirled it around, Clark whined
uncontrollably. Then Lex chuckled at the
same time he took Clark’s whole cock down his throat, and that was it.
He’d never come so hard in
his life. If he could get nosebleeds without
first being struck by lightning, he would have.
In fact, it felt an awful lot like being struck by lightning. Only more fun. And he recovered faster.
When he’d caught his breath,
it was Clark’s turn to do some exploring.
Lex’s mouth tasted different, coated with Clark’s come, and Clark took
his time cleaning up before he roamed down the length of Lex’s body. The milky skin looked good with the blood up
under it, and the noises Lex made as he moved beneath Clark’s mouth and hands
got Clark hard again before he made it past Lex’s ribcage. Clark manfully ignored his own erection and
zeroed in on Lex’s.
The first taste of Lex’s cock on his tongue made Clark hungrier than he’d ever
been. He licked and swallowed and
whimpered a little in sympathy when Lex screamed, but Clark was too busy
drinking him down to do much more than pet Lex’s ass and stroke his trembling
thighs. Crawling back up Lex’s body,
laying little sucking kisses all along the way, he had to grin when he saw the
literally-blown expression on Lex’s face.
It was a good look for
him. One Clark fully intended to put
there as often as possible. Clark lay
propped up on one elbow looking down at Lex, and beamed like an idiot. He could feel it, but he couldn’t do a damned
thing about it, and he didn’t want to.
It felt too good to stop.
Lex opened dazed eyes and
grinned back at him for a moment before glancing down at Clark’s cock, dragging
across his thigh, leaking on his skin.
“Was there something you wanted, Clark?” he asked. His voice was even sexier than normal, kind
of husky and broken, and Clark felt his cock jump.
Lex felt it too.
His grin turned what could
only be called evil, and Clark was blinded by it. He was taken by surprise when a long, lean
leg wrapped itself around his waist and he found himself hauled over to lie
flat on top of Lex.
Or almost flat.
Lex reached down into the
cramped space between them and wrapped his hand around Clark’s cock. Clark gave another whimper, and was still
trying to find the words to ask Lex what he was going to do when Lex did it.
He pulled Clark down, pulled
himself up, and worked Clark’s cock deep into himself.
The process took some time,
what with Clark frozen in shock at the realization that he was fucking Lex and Lex
going slow to give himself time to accommodate Clark’s bulk. They were both moaning, and Clark was way too
close to coming, by the time it dawned on Clark that he wasn’t fucking Lex so
much as Lex was fucking himself on Clark.
That thought was all it
took. Higher reasoning, what was left of
it anyway, disappeared completely as Clark’s hips starting moving all on their
own. Lex’s head dropped back, his other
leg came up to wrap around the other side of Clark’s waist, and he pushed with
his heels against Clark’s ass as if trying to pull Clark completely inside
him. Clark pushed his upper body off
Lex’s chest and stared down at him, panting, watching as Lex lost himself.
Losing himself in turn.
When Clark came the second
time, he thought Lex might have, too, but by then he couldn’t tell where he
ended and Lex began. Clark curled his
body as far around Lex as he could get and held him, listening as their hearts
slowed down, feeling his cock slip out of Lex’s body, tasting the warm salt of
Lex’s skin beneath his tongue.
He never wanted to move
again.
Eventually, Lex shifted
against him, then laughed, his breath tickling Clark’s throat. His arms tightened around Clark, who found
himself grinning without knowing why.
“What?” he finally
asked. His voice sounded scratchy, lower
than usual, and it must have had the same effect on Lex that Lex’s had on him,
from the way Lex shivered. The laugh
choked off.
“Just thinking.” And enjoying it, from the sound of it.
“’Bout what?” Clark slowly stroked Lex’s back, loving the
feel of the relaxed muscles under his hands.
“If this is my reward for
being destiny’s whore, I’ll roll over and take it after all.” He was laughing again. “With pleasure.”
Clark’s response was
sweet. For both of them.
The dusk light coming
through the thin cracks in the roof of the cave cast shadows over the
wall. A silvery wolf sat on his
haunches, staring up at the central painting in the cave.
As the dark eyes watched,
the rock shifted once more, then stilled.
Where once there had been two heads, now there was one. Blood and sky together. Good and evil, balance in each. A blending from what had once been a
battle. The wolf closed his eyes. Raised his head.
And howled.
Destiny would never be the
same again.
END