Homage
By Shaman

Lex stood in front of the full length mirror in his bedroom and examined his reflection as he watched his hands button up the cool electric blue shirt that he wore.  It was form-fitting and short sleeved, and complimented the tight black slacks that he wore.  Lex turned away from the mirror as he adjusted the collar and scooped up his car keys from the heavy crystal dish he kept on the table by the door.  After shutting the bedroom door behind him, Lex walked down the hall and through the study.  He glanced down at the fine Persian rug on the floor on his way through and paused only slightly as he glanced at the blackened and scorched area in the middle of the rug.  His marriage to Desiree had only been annulled for two weeks, and the skin on his back was still reddish and tender from where his ex-wife had tried to burn him to death with his own fine scotch after her attempt to use Jonathan Kent as a brainwashed assassin had failed.  He could still feel the jagged pieces of the broken decanter smashing across his shoulder blades and the smell of his own flesh burning.  If it hadn’t been for Clark . . .

Clark.  Always there to save him, always there to care for him.  Clark, with his shy smile and expressive green eyes that always seemed to look through Lex’s defenses and past his masks.  Lex had never known anyone quite like the young man who had come to be his best friend as well as his greatest fantasy.  He was quite sure that, thanks to Clark’s naivety, the boy had no idea about Lex’s desires; after all, they had been friends for almost a year and Clark hadn’t given Lex any sign that he had understood the subtle signals the billionaire had been sending him.  Lex, partly out of anger and partly thanks to his vulnerability, had fallen under Desiree’s spell and had almost been killed because of it.  Since then, Lex had tried to forget the entire experience and had backed off from Clark.  Either the teenager didn’t understand the signals he’d been sending, or understood them and preferred not to respond.  Lex liked to believe the first reason . . . after all, the boy seemed all wrapped up with his attempts to get the attention of the vapid and self-absorbed Lana Lang, who was too involved with her endless abandonment issues to give Clark the time of day. 

*To be sixteen again.* Lex thought as he walked out to his silver-and-blue Porsche and slipped behind the wheel.  *Not that I was a paragon of innocence at that age, but aside from the angst and the lack of fashion sense, it was sure easier than being an adult.*

Lex pulled out of the mansion’s huge garage and headed down the winding driveway that would take him to the front gate.  As the gates slid open electronically, the Porsche’s headlights illuminated a tall, broad-shouldered form standing beside them.  Lex rolled to a stop and looked up at Clark through the deepening twilight. 

“What are you doing here, Clark?” He asked, and Clark shrugged as he scuffed a toe of one of his work boots in the dirt.  Lex reflected as he often did how odd it was for a boy Clark’s size and good looks to be so shy and unsure of himself. 

“You haven’t been around to see me lately.”  Clark said in a slightly reproachful tone that told Lex his friend was there because he thought Lex was angry at him. 

“I know, and I’m sorry.  I’ve been busy.” 

“It’s okay.”  Clark shrugged, his big shoulders all muscle and sinew under the white t-shirt and red plaid over shirt he wore.  Lex wondered if Clark really enjoyed wearing those shirts, or if he was simply trying to please his parents.  “I know you’ve got a company to run.”  His green eyes danced over the Porsche with admiration.  “Where are you headed?” 

“Metropolis.”  Lex replied.  “To a club, with friends.” 

“Oh.”  Clark sighed, obviously disappointed.  Lex gave him another smile. 

“Why don’t you come by tomorrow?  We can shoot some pool or watch a video or even go swimming.”  The thought of Clark in a pair of swim trunks and his body glistening with water made Lex shift in the Porsche’s leather seat.  Clark appeared not to notice and he scuffed his foot in the dirt again. 

“It’s Friday night.  I already did my homework, Chloe and Pete are covering the Homecoming Pep Rally for The Torch and my folks are home, falling asleep in front of the t.v.”  He gave Lex a hopeful smile.  “Maybe I could come to Metropolis with you?” 

Lex sighed and put the car into park.  He turned off the ignition and looked up at his friend, who looked hopeful and lonely and younger than his age in the rapidly fading twilight.  “Clark . . . “  He began quietly, and the teenager rushed ahead before he could say anything further.

“Come on Lex, I’ve only been to Metropolis twice my whole life, and both those times were with my parents!  I’ve never seen it at night, and I’ve never been to a club.”

“And the last time I checked, you had just turned sixteen, not eighteen.  Most of the clubs in Metropolis only admit people who are eighteen and older, Clark.”  Lex saw the boy frown, and he knew that Clark thought he was being patronized.  “I’d really enjoy it if you could come with me, Clark, but the fact is that you’re underage and I’m quite sure that your parents would hit the roof if you got caught with me in a downtown Metropolis nightclub, especially one that serves hard liquor.”  Lex explained, knowing that liquor would be the least of Clark’s problems if he ventured into the club where Lex was headed that evening. 

Clark scowled and his dark brows drew together.  “Great.  Guess I’ll go sit up in my loft . . . get a head start on next month’s English assignment.”  He turned away from the car, and Lex started the ignition again.  He pulled up alongside Clark, who was walking back toward the Kent Farm. 

“Clark.” 

“Its okay, Lex.  You better hurry or you’ll be late meeting your friends.”  Clark said, and he sounded so lonely that Lex winced. 

“All right, Clark.  I meant what I said before, though.  Come over tomorrow afternoon and we’ll hang out together, all right?” 

A small smile graced Clark’s handsome features.  “Okay.” 

Lex returned the smile and drove down the gravel lane that led to the main highway.  He glanced in the rearview mirror for one more glimpse of Clark, but his young friend was nowhere in sight.  Lex shook his head in puzzlement.  Either Clark was faster on his feet than he appeared, or he was some kind of magician who could disappear at will. As he turned onto the paved road that would lead him to Metropolis, Lex shook the thoughts from his mind and shifted the Porsche into high gear. 

                                                           **********************************

Metropolis at night was a city that thumped like a heartbeat of an excited child.  Parts of it never slept at all, and those were the places that Lex had been drawn to ever since he’d seen the last of Desiree; in particular a small club just east of downtown in the district that had once been known as Suicide Slums. The club was underground in the sub-basement of an abandoned building on the fringe of the district and had no official name, yet its faithful patrons called it The Jungle.  Lex wasn’t sure if it was a reference to the Upton Sinclair novel or the Guns N’ Roses song, but it could easily have been both.  It was a dark and smoky place that was illuminated only by oil lanterns and candles.  The air was always heavy with the smell of tobacco and marijuana smoke, sweat, and sex.  It mixed into a potent perfume that was both heady and intoxicating, and Lex took a deep breath as he stepped inside and let the heavy steel door slam behind him.  Two young men were kissing on a red tattered velvet sofa nearby, and one of them looked up as Lex walked by.  His eyes were heavily made up with eye-liner. 

“Hey, Alexander!” 

“Hello Archie.”  Lex returned the greeting and fielded the appreciative glance that the young man sent his way.  Archie noticed the nonverbal rebuff and planted a hand on his hip. 

“Saving yourself for The Iron Fist?”  He asked snidely, and Lex gave him a hooded glance. 

“Of course not.  I just know how many partners you’ve had in the last month.” 

Archie’s nostrils flared and his lips pursed.  “You are *such* a bitch!”  He snapped, and Lex gave him a sly smirk before heading to the back of the room.  Young men were draped all over couches and chairs; some talking, some kissing, some rubbing up against each other between hits of cocaine or marijuana.  A bright red wooden door stood partially open deep in the shadows of the back of the room, and Lex slipped through the space as he reached out to close the door behind him.  He heard it lock from the outside and stood there in the near-darkness, his heart slamming in his ears. 

“You’re late.”  A deep voice intoned, and Lex whirled around.  A candle flickered to life to reveal a tall man dressed in leather.  He sat in the middle of the room in a high-backed blue velvet wing chair, his features totally obscured by a butter-soft black leather mask.  The eye holes were mere slits, and barely revealed the pupils of the man behind it.  His chest was smooth and bare except for a black leather vest.  The rest of his outfit consisted of tight leather shorts that cut just under the buttocks, and shiny black boots.  Leather gloves covered his hands and he held a riding crop in his right hand, which he tapped against of the arm of the chair as he regarded Lex coldly. 

“If I am-” Lex began, and the man who was known to the patrons of the Jungle only as Lucifer rose from his chair with the speed of a striking viper.  Lex backed away, but one gloved hand clamped around the back of his neck and drove him quickly and efficiently to his knees.  Lex grunted as his knees hit the stained concrete floor, and the business end of the riding crop rained blows down onto his shoulders.  Lex hissed in pain at the contact, but his cock grew rock hard almost the instant the crop touched him.  Lucifer hauled him up by the collar of his silk shirt and then gripped him by the lapels.  Lex looked up into the dark pupils that glared out at him through the slits in the mask, and then the butter soft leather was sliding against his cheek. 

“Pay homage to me.”  Lucifer growled, and the ritualistic words caused Lex’s skin to go ultra-sensitive and tingly.  A small groan escaped his lips, and he slid down the long, powerful body as the one dominating him tore the shirt free to bare Lex’s muscular pale back and shoulders.  As Lex pulled out the man’s erection from a slit in the leather shorts, the riding crop came down to mark his shoulders harshly.  Lex cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure and rubbed his face against Lucifer’s cock.  The leather gloves clamped down onto his shoulders where the crop had struck him only moments before and strong fingers dug into the skin cruelly, leaving deep bruised impressions in their wake that were the color of faded denim on Lex’s pale skin. 

“Suck, boy.”  Lucifer ordered, and forced his way into Lex’s mouth.  Lex took the flesh to keep from choking, and still gagged slightly as the tall man pounded his way into the young billionaire’s throat and bruised his tonsils.  Lex tasted his own blood and tried to back away, but Lucifer held him fast and spurted hot, thick seed down the younger man throat.  Lex gagged and choked, the stuff overflowing and spilling from his mouth in small rivulets.  Lucifer shoved him back, and Lex struck his head on the concrete floor.  Black spots bloomed in his vision, and then the dominator was letting the crop fly once more. 

“Clean it up!”  He ordered, and the blows lessened as Lex stumbled to all fours and began to lick up what he’d spilled from the concrete floor.  The taste of the dirty floor along with the congealing spunk made Lex want to vomit, but he knew if he did, he’d be cleaning that up, too.  Strong arms encircled his waist and unbuttoned his slacks, and Lex tried not to tremble as they were yanked away from his body with short, angry jerks.  He wore nothing underneath, as he always did on the nights he came to The Jungle, and he heard a grunt of satisfaction from Lucifer.  A thick, slick finger probed his anus, and then rammed its way inside him.  Lex gritted his teeth against the invasion, and the finger vanished only to be replaced by something hot and rigid and impossibly thick.  He felt more smooth leather rubbing along his thighs as Lucifer sodomized him, his gloved fingers squeezing and molding the flesh along Lex’s slim hips. 

“Such a pretty whore.”  Lucifer whispered in Lex’s ear as he rode the young man savagely, and Lex closed his eyes as tears formed on his pale lashes.  Sensation screamed through his body and it shuddered under the onslaught . . . being taken, the wanting, the not wanting . . . . and the inevitable outcome of it all. He heard himself moan, and a rough fist clamped around his erection.  It jerked hard as Lucifer flogged the sensitive flesh, and then Lex’s body was awash with pain and pleasure as hot spurts of come were coating his insides, washing away his own identity and all of the pain that went with it.  A part of Lex’s mind knew that trading one kind of pain for another wasn’t the answer, but the other part of him, the one that often craved punishment because he knew he deserved it, always wanted more of what Lucifer gave him.  As the muscles in his rectum fluttered and clenched around the big man’s huge cock, Lex thought back to what had brought him here, kneeling on all fours on a filthy concrete floor in the back of a homosexual underground club when he should have been at Chez Louis, eating lobster.

It had been Archie who had first introduced Lex to the place.  Archie had gone to Excelsior prep with Lex, but his wealthy mother had disowned him when he came out in his senior year.  He had dropped out of sight, but Lex had recognized him a few months ago in a downtown night club and the two had quickly rekindled their friendship.  Lex, whose bisexuality hadn’t made itself known until he’d come to on that riverbank and looked up into Clark Kent’s green eyes, had never experienced same-sex relations.  Archie had quickly put an end to that trouble.  He took Lex to The Jungle, where both boys got high and Lex ended up on his belly on one of the red velvet sofas while Archie and two of his friends fucked him senseless.  Lex didn’t meet Lucifer that night, nor did he the next; it wasn’t until his marriage to Desiree ended in disgrace and humiliation that his shame and anger drew him back to The Jungle.  Several nights in a row he wallowed there in self pity, not allowing Archie or anyone else near him.  He longed for Clark . . . his touch, his voice, his sympathy, but Lex’s wounded pride and his fear that Clark would reject him once again kept him away from The Kent farm. 

Lex was on his fourth drink that night when two men picked him up out of his chair and dragged him bodily into Lucifer’s lair.  Drunk and furious, Lex hollered at the leather-clad man in all his righteous billionaire arrogance, and had shortly thereafter learned the true meaning of humility.  Fifteen minutes after his first display of indignation Lex found himself trussed up like a rodeo calf, his thighs spread wide and his ankles clamped down with iron rings as Lucifer sodomized him without mercy on the cold concrete floor.  When the man was done with him he was released, but only on the condition that he would return the following evening.  Lex agreed, and had returned despite his fear.  The man everyone called Lucifer moved swiftly and without mercy, assuming his victims knew what they risked by venturing into his lair.  Lex now went to him four times out of the week, seeking punishment and pain and pleasure . . . anything that kept him free of the temptation that was Clark Kent. 

“Huh!”  Lex grunted thickly and was jerked back into the present as Lucifer pulled away from him and planted a booted foot on his bare ass.  He shoved forward roughly and Lex rolled to one side to avoid cracking his chin against the floor.  He looked up at Lucifer, whose partially concealed lips smacked as if he had just tasted something delicious. 

“Tomorrow night.  If you’re late again, you will be punished.”  He strode over to his velvet throne, his partially limp organ still leaking come as he draped himself across it, indicating to Lex that their session was over.  Lex gathered up his clothing and dressed quickly as he heard the door unlock from the outside.  He knew there was a small red light above the door that told Lucifer’s head man when to lock and unlock it, he had seen it when other people had gone inside. 

“Let’s go.”  A young man snapped at Lex as the red door swung open part way, and Lex slipped through the opening.  Across the room, Archie looked up as the door opened and watched Lex scuttle away out the back door of the club.  Archie’s lover shook his head and toyed with Archie’s hair, which was spiked and frosted blond at the tips. 

“Why does he do that to himself, Arch?”  He asked softly, and Archie sighed. 

“I can’t be sure, love, but if you ask me, Alexander is aching for something he can’t have . . . and he’s punishing himself for wanting it in the first place.” 

                                                            ******************************

Lex awoke early the next morning to find himself imprinted with Lucifer’s handiwork.  As per some unspoken agreement the man never struck Lex where a mark would be visible, and the wounds hardly ever caused him any real pain.  Lex touched the bruises on his hips as he walked naked into his bathroom and turned on the shower.  A clean robe hung on the back of the door, put there each day by his housekeeper, and Lex smiled at her steadfastness as he made the water as hot as he could stand before stepping into the stall.  The water hit his aching body like a blessing and he sighed, tipping his bald head back and letting the water run down his chest and legs for many minutes before he finally reached for his loofa and body wash.  He soaped himself thoroughly and rinsed off ten minutes later, and then remembered that he’d invited Clark over for the afternoon.  As Lex reached for one of the huge fluffy lavender towels on the shelf over the sink, he knew he had to hide all traces of Lucifer’s abuse, both mental and physical.  Clark had the uncanny knack of sensing people’s vulnerabilities, and Lex knew he mustn’t let any chinks in his armor show. 

He shrugged on his robe and crossed the bedroom, his movements less stiff and awkward thanks to the hot shower.  He dressed in a pair of tope slacks and a light blue long-sleeved pullover that clung to his lean body with the subtlety and ease of expensive fabric.  After a light breakfast of poached eggs and toast, Lex picked up his morning paper and went into the study.  There he checked his e-mail and read the business section of The Daily Planet and almost felt normal for the first time since Desiree had smashed that decanter across his back and lit his shirt on fire.

There was a knock on the study door. 

“It’s open!”  Lex called, and one of his people admitted Clark into the study.  He wore a yellow t-shirt and faded denim jeans, and he gave Lex a sunny smile. 

“Hey Lex!” 

“Clark.”  Lex set his paper aside and glanced at his desk clock.  It was ten after twelve.  “I wasn’t expecting you this early.” 

“Oh.”  Clark said with a blush, and Lex rose from his chair. 

“It’s fine, really.”  He smiled as he came around the desk.  His longing eyes noticed everything about the young boy; his even white teeth, the small whorls of hair around his ears that told Lex the dark locks would curl if they were grown long, the long, muscular legs, and the bright sea foam eyes that turned incredible shades of green when the light hit them.  He clapped Clark on the shoulder briefly as they went into the gaming room.  “Come on, we’ll play some pool.” 

The statement was met with another bright, approving smile that made Lex’s heart squeeze painfully in his chest.  His expression carefully arranged into that of bored billionaire indifference, Lex picked up two pool cues and handed one to Clark.  As Lex racked up the balls, Clark considered his friend’s emotional state.  He acted as if Desiree had never happened, but Clark knew a person didn’t come through something like that unscathed.  Carefully, he tested the waters.

“Um, hey . . . Lex?” 

“Yeah?”  Lex broke the pool balls with a sharp crack like a gunshot and sank two striped balls in the process.  He lined up another shot, and Clark cleared his throat. 

“I just wanted to tell you if you wanted to . . . you know, talk about what happened that I’m here to listen.” 

Lex glanced up at his young friend with true affection.  “That’s good of you, Clark, but I’m fine.  Really.” 

“You don’t have to pretend around me, Lex.”  Clark insisted, and Lex almost laughed out loud at the pure irony of the statement.  He took a shot, missed, and watched Clark round the table as he lined up his first shot. 

“I’m not pretending anything, Clark.  I said I’m fine.  It wasn’t a good experience, but I’ve already put it behind me.” 

Clark looked unconvinced as he sank a solid red ball.  “Well . . . like I said, you know I’m here if you ever want to talk.” 

“I know.”  Lex nodded, and grabbed the cue ball in his right hand before it could sink into the right corner pocket and Clark scowled.  Lex smirked and took it to the other side of the table to line up a new shot.  “Besides, I’m a firm believer of the adage that whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” 

Clark slid his right hand up and down his cue in a completely innocent gesture that nonetheless made Lex slightly weak in the knees.  His fingers were long and big and strong-looking.  Lex’s lips parted slightly and he licked his lower lip.  Clark didn’t notice; he appeared to be contemplating Lex’s statement as he looked up at one of the stained glass windows that graced the game room and let in a kind of muted and shimmering sunlight. 

“You sound like my dad.”  He said finally, and Lex laughed out loud. 

“I can imagine what he’d say to that!” 

Clark grinned, and then looked chagrined as Lex sank his last three balls, and then the eight ball.  “Best two out of three?”  He asked hopefully.

The afternoons always passed quickly for Lex when Clark was around and before Lex knew it, the windows of the mansion that faced west began to glow as the sun made its way toward its sleeping place.  He glanced at his watch and saw that it was a quarter of six. 

“I’m heading into Metropolis in about an hour, Clark.” 

They were sitting in the kitchen, where Clark was eating an enormous ice cream sundae that the cook had prepared for him.  Lex, who was indulging himself with a small dish of the premium ice cream, took great pleasure in watching Clark eat the whipped cream, imported maraschino cherries, and the fancy peanuts that covered the premium Neapolitan ice cream.   The boy was a big eater who always impressed Lex with his appetite, as well as the ability to burn of the calories with ease, as he never had an extra ounce of fat anywhere on his body.

And Lex spent a lot of time looking. 

“You’re going to Metropolis again tonight?”  Clark asked as he finished the last bite of his sundae and set the spoon back into the empty bowl.  There was only a tiny smear of ice cream left on the sides.  Lex nodded and set his own bowl aside. 

“I have an appointment.” 

“On a Saturday?”  Clark asked as he got up from his chair and reached for his jacket. 

“You can’t run a business strictly from nine to five during the week, Clark.  Sometimes you have to make a few extra connections after hours.” 

“Right.”  Clark sighed as they walked toward the door together.  Lex opened it for him. 

“Give my regards to your parents.” 

“I will.  Thanks for everything, Lex.”

“Anytime.  We’ll get together later this week, all right?” 

“Sure.  See you.”  Clark stepped outside and jogged toward the mansion’s tall security gates.  He moved like a racehorse, all muscle and balance and energy.  Lex watched him until he vanished around the corner, and then went to his bedroom to change. 

He stood nude in front of the full-length mirror for nearly ten minutes, examining the bruises on his hips and shoulders. 

“You don’t have to do this.”  He told his reflection firmly. 

“You could stay here.  You could call Clark . . . have him come back over.  Tell him . . . “Lex closed his eyes briefly.  “Tell him how you feel.” 

*Sure, Lex!* A cheerful voice answered in his head.  It was a capering, mocking voice, the voice of a jaded jester.  *Call him up!  Have him over!  Tell him how you feel and just maybe if you’re lucky, he won’t run screaming to his parents so they can have you arrested for pedophilia!*

A rush of guilt and self-loathing washed over him, and Lex watched his lip curl into an angry sneer. 

“Fuck this.”  He growled, and yanked on a pair of tight black slacks and a button-down lavender shirt.  He buttoned it quickly, trying to ignore the slight shake in his hands.  He would go to The Jungle not for what he wanted, but for what he thought he deserved. 

                                                               ***********************************

Clark lay in the big net hammock that he’d strung up in his loft that spring, his own thoughts distracting him from the copy of The Catcher in the Rye he’d been trying to finish.  There would be a paper due toward the end of the semester in his AP English class, and Clark figured he’d use the free time to read the novel now in case things got hectic later, as they often did toward mid-May. 

After reading the same sentence four times, Clark gave up with a sigh and tossed the book onto a nearby table.  It was a warm night, and the loft doors were wide open to let in the breeze.  Clark reached out with one bare foot and pushed off against the wall to set the hammock rocking, and folded his hands behind his head.  As he used his body’s own weight to keep the hammock in motion, Clark thought about Lex. 

*He said he was fine . . . but there were a few times today when he sure acted strange,* Clark thought.  *It might be what happened with Desiree or maybe its something else . . . maybe something with his dad?* Clark knew that Lex’s relationship with his father Lionel was strained, to say the least.  

Clark closed his eyes for a moment and then they sprang open as someone called to him from the loft stairs. 

“Clark?  Are you up here?” 

Clark smiled a little and struggled to get out of the hammock as Chloe Sullivan reached the landing of the loft. She watched him with an amused smile and walked toward him. 

“ Oh my God I just totally flashed on “Eight-Legged Freaks!” She laughed, and helped him out of the hammock.  Clark grinned good-naturedly and sat down on the tired old couch nearby.  It puffed up motes of fine hay dust and Clark waved them aside. 

“What’s up, Chloe?”  He asked, and the energetic young blonde sat down across from him.  She wore jeans, a multi-colored blouse, and a belt with a large circular buckle.  Red sandals covered her feet. 

“Just thought I’d drop by to see how you’re doing.”  She paused and bit her lower lip.  “I didn’t see you at the pep rally, and you weren’t at the game tonight either.” 

Clark shook his head with a lift of his big shoulders.  “Pep rallies and football games aren’t exactly my thing.”  He admitted.  “I did some studying last night, and today I spent the day with Lex.” 

“Oh.”  Chloe said briefly, and the way her eyes rolled away from his made Clark frown.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  He demanded, and Chloe shrugged. 

“Nothing, it’s just that-“  She pursed her lips and looked back at him.  “Clark . . . don’t you think it’s a little odd that a billionaire whose six years your senior wants to hang out with you all the time?” 

“Thanks a lot.”  Clark said flatly, and rose from his chair.  Chloe rose with him and put a hand on his arm. 

“I didn’t mean it that way, Clark!  What I meant is that Lex Luthor has access to billions of dollars, fast cars, penthouse suites and beautiful women.” 

“And?”  Clark demanded. 

“And that means that maybe he should play with people his own age before people start to get the wrong idea.  If they haven’t already.”  She looked away from him as she spoke, but Clark understood her meaning well enough.  He felt heat rise in his cheeks and bleed down his neck. 

“Lex is our friend, Chloe!  You can’t go around spreading rumors like that!” 

“I haven’t spread anything, Clark!”  Chloe defended as she pointed at herself for emphasis.  “It’s just something that a few people in town have noticed!  Come on, you don’t think it’s just a little strange that Lex spends so much time with us?  And especially with you?” 

“He’s my friend!”  Clark countered angrily.  I know I can trust him, which is more than I can say for most of my other friends in Smallville lately!” 

Chloe blushed at that, but pushed ahead.  “I’m just saying that you need to be careful, Clark.  That’s all.” 

“Thanks for the advice Chloe, but I can take care of myself.”  Clark replied as he stared into her eyes.  He saw genuine concern there, but also a little bit of jealousy. 

“I hope so.”  Chloe replied as she headed for the loft stairs.  Clark watched her go, and she glanced back long enough to give him a half-hearted smile. 

“See you at school?” 

“Sure.”  Clark smiled back, and sat back down on the couch as her footfalls faded and he heard the sewing-machine sound of her VW’s engine as it pulled away moments later.  Once that noise was gone, Clark flopped back onto the couch and rubbed his face with both hands. 

*Lex is my friend,* he thought in bewilderment.  *I have to protect him, don’t I?  Isn’t that what friends are supposed to do?  Protect each other?* 

                                                     **************************************

Lex grunted and his fingernails scraped against cold concrete as Lucifer pinned him hard up against the wall in the back room of The Jungle.  Pale flesh bruised and abraded, skin slid against skin as the big man ground himself against Lex’s struggling body.  The young billionaire was blindfolded with a black satin scarf and a ring of metal was forced between his teeth like a horse’s bit, forcing his jaw open and robbing him of his ability to speak.  A tight leather pouch encased his genitals and made his erection a thing of agony; two small spring-loaded nipple clamps bit into his skin like hungry teeth, the nubs of flesh standing out hard and hurtful under the pressure.  As Lucifer pinned Lex roughly and his huge organ searched out the younger man’s tight opening, he reached around and yanked hard on the clamps.  Lex moaned in pain and pleasure, his eyes rolling helplessly as the man in leather took him roughly and with little lubrication.  Sensitive skin was stretched and pulled as Lex panted around the metal gag that trapped his tongue.  He squeezed his eyes shut as Lucifer’s voice spoke low and growling into his ear. 

“Tell me who you’re thinking about.”  A hand came up and removed the gag, and Lex worked his jaw for a moment to relieve the aching muscles.  He was punished for the hesitation as a leather riding crop left a welt across his right shoulder in a burning line.  He cried out softly, and earned another lash. 

“Tell me!” 

“You . . . I was thinking of you . . . master.”  Lex said softly, and then gasped in a breath that was full of pain as Lucifer slammed into him roughly, bucking his hips hard. 

“Liar!”  The voice snarled, more animal than human, and tears sprang to Lex’s eyes as the man grasped one of the nipple clamps and pulled on it until Lex cried out in agony.  Pain eclipsed pleasure, as it always did, and Lex began to struggle. 

“Stop!  Let me loose!”  He tried to muster a commanding tone of voice, but instead the words came out in a pleading, frightened manner that he loathed.  Lucifer only laughed and slipped both arms around him, holding him tightly as the big leather-clad hands kneaded the flesh of his smooth belly and fondled his trapped cock. 

“You know that you want this.  It’s why you seek me out.”  Lucifer changed the angle of his thrusts and began to prod Lex’s prostate with rough, rhythmic strokes. 

“The ultimate question, Alexander, is why.”  A hot, wet tongue slipped into his left ear and explored there until goose bumps broke out on that side of Lex’s body.  The tongue slid wetly down his neck and teeth bit into the skin where his neck and shoulder met.  Lex groaned and the teeth sunk in harder, until they drew blood. 

“Uh!”  He gasped, and eager lips sucked up the blood as it rose to the surface of his skin.  Lucifer chuckled. 

“Such a sweet thing . . . my sweet, pretty toy . . . tell me why you come here to seek out punishment.  Tell me your sins, my child . . . tell me, and I’ll wash them away.”  Hot, hard flesh prodded him in that magic spot in a promise of pleasure, but Lex couldn’t speak Clark’s name in a room that stank of evil and of his own weakness.  He shook his head slightly, and the hand that had been fondling him with such promise suddenly turned into a squeezing fist.  Lex cried out in pain as the blood drained from his face, and Lucifer pulled away from him.  A gloved hand clamped hard around his upper arm and dragged him bodily over to another corner, where a row of shackles hung empty on the wall at different heights.  Lucifer shoved Lex hard against the wall, forced him to his knees, and chained his hands high over his head. 

“Disobedient *brat!*  You dare to deny me?”  The angry man stood on either side of Lex’s thighs and forced the back of his head up against the wall as he forced Lex to fellate him.  Lex gagged and choked, his trapped hands opening and closing as he tried desperately not to think of Clark, tried not to pretend that it was Clark forcing him . . . his erection tightened and wracked his lower body with waves of pain as the tight leather all but cut off the circulation there.  He made a strangled sound of agony around the thick flesh in his mouth, and then he was swallowing hot, salty fluid that burned his sinuses and made tears spring to his eyes.  He remembered to keep swallowing this time, lest he ended up on his hands and knees again, cleaning the floor with his tongue.  Lucifer backed away, his black pupils glaring down at the younger man. 

“Maybe I’ll just leave you chained there.”  The man crouched down in front of him and squeezed his agonized erection.  “Or perhaps I’ll put in a call to The Inquisitor . . . I’m sure they would love to get some exclusive photos of Metropolis’ Little Prince in such a . . . compromising position.” 

Lex knew an empty threat when he heard it, and didn’t bother to reply.  His mind was on Clark and the questioning look in his green eyes when Lex had told him he was coming into the city again.  *Where are you really going, Lex, and why won’t you tell me the truth?* 

The truth . . . it could rip into friendship like the edge of a dull knife, trying to slice and tear and gouge where it thought it could do the most damage.  It was a dangerous weapon . . . a weapon that Lex wasn’t willing to wield in front of an innocent like Clark Kent. 

                                                     ******************************************  

A week passed, and Lex spent more and more time at The Jungle, purifying himself with pain as his desire and longing for Clark increased.  He pushed Clark away both emotionally and physically, hating himself when hurt and confusion bloomed on the boy’s face each time.  He was persistent, though, and dug at Lex whenever he could.  Lex soon had no choice but to shut him out completely, giving late-night meetings and business troubles as his excuse. 

Now, as he stood in front of his mirror, shirtless and exhausted at the thought of meeting Lucifer again, his keen mind raced as it considered and then rejected plans for his ultimate escape from the dominator. 

The intercom near the door buzzed, startling him out of his thoughts.  He stalked over to it and thumbed the button in.  “What is it, Joaquin?”  He asked the houseboy. 

“Tall, darked haired boy at front gate.”  The Filipino servant replied in his broken English.  “Wants to see you.” 

“Tell him I’m very busy, and that I’ll call him sometime next week.”  Lex answered shortly, and took his thumb off the button.  He went to his closet to choose a clean shirt when suddenly the bedroom door banged open so hard that the doorjamb bounced off of the wall twice before swinging partway shut again.  Lex shouted in surprise and anger, and whirled around at the person who dared to enter his private bedroom without knocking.  To his amazement and horror, Clark stood there staring at him with wide green eyes that were full of shock and disbelief.  Lex managed to arrange his expression into one of indignation. 

“Clark, didn’t Joaquin give you my message?”  He asked, but the teenager wasn’t about to be diverted.  He approached Lex with a quick, angry stride; his eyes eating up the bruises and marks on Lex’s bare chest and shoulders. 

“Lex, what’s going on?  Why are you all bruised up?  Did someone hurt you?”  He demanded, and Lex swung back to his closet to pull out a shirt.  Clark’s hand fell on his bare shoulder, and liquid heat spread through Lex’s body.  He gritted his teeth and whirled on the young boy. 

“Don’t touch me, Clark.”  He snarled, and Clark backed off a step. 

“Lex please, tell me what’s going on!  You’re all beat up, you’ve been ignoring my calls, you don’t want me over anymore . . . come on, what is it?” 

“Something that’s bigger than the both of us put together.”  Lex replied as she shrugged on a plum-colored long-sleeve shirt.  Clark shook his head. 

“If you tell me, I can help!  Lex please-”

“Clark . . . “  Lex ‘s whole body spoke of aggression and anger as he herded the less confident teenager toward the door.  “I don’t have time for this.  When I’m ready to tell you what’s happening then maybe I will, but until then, you have to give me some space.  I appreciate your concern, believe me, but there’s nothing you can do.  Joaquin will show you out.”  He closed the bedroom door in Clark’s face and then rested his forehead against it as he sensed Clark hesitate, and then listened to his fading footsteps as he walked away down the hall. 

“I’m sorry.”  He said softly. 

                                                      ***************************************

Clark stood in front of the iron gates of the mansion and stared up at the neat square of light that was Lex’s bedroom.  After Joaquin had insisted that he leave ‘as per sir’s orders,’ Clark didn’t argue.  He’d simply walked out and come to stand in the shadows of the large hedges that stood on either side of the gates.  Clark knew that Lex would have to drive through those gates on his way to wherever he was going and when he did, Clark would follow him. 

While a part of Clark was nagging him to heed Lex’s advice and keep out of his business, the more practical part of him warned that Lex was in some sort of trouble and over his head.  It would explain his best friend’s behavior the past few weeks; the avoidance, the secrecy . . . and the marks and bruises he had just seen all over Lex’s back and shoulders.  Who had made them and why?  Did it have anything to do with Desiree, or was Lex’s father involved? 

*Whatever it is,*  Clark thought, *I’m going to find out and I’m going to stop it.* 

The low, smooth growl of Lex’s silver Porsche reached Clark’s ears a moment later and he watched as the car glided down the drive.  The big gates swung open as Lex pushed a button on his keychain, and Clark ducked lower behind the hedge.  As Lex pointed the car toward Route Eight and Metropolis, Clark jumped into super speed and followed at a safe distance behind.  The sun went down as they both headed west, toward the bright lights of the city.

                                                                 ********************************

It was a quarter of ten when Lex parked his Porsche in a private, secure lot and began his three-block walk to The Jungle.  He strode through the darkened streets with confidence with the distant sound of sirens and the occasional roar of a jet plane passing overhead from Metropolis airport.  Soon he was skirting the ruins that edged the area that had once been Suicide Slums, and ducked into the abandoned building that would take him down to The Jungle. 

Archie was snorting cocaine with a rolled-up dollar bill when Lex walked in, and the older boy’s dark eyes were bright with chemical-induced glee.  “Hey Alexander!”  He grinned, and Lex only shook his head when he saw another boy sitting at Archie’s feet, a boy who couldn’t have been much older than Clark, with dark hair that was frosted blonde at the tips.  Archie was running his fingers through that hair with an air of possession. 

“What happened to Ronnie?”  He asked, and Archie made a derisive noise. 

“Old news, love, old news.  How about you?  Anything new on the horizon, honey?” 

“Not especially.”  Lex said softly, and glanced at the red door on the far side of the room.  It was closed, and he swallowed hard as he started toward it.  He was halfway across The Jungle’s concrete floor when a voice stopped him cold.

“Lex!”

  His heart hesitated for at least three beats as his chest locked up, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe.  The noise in the room bled dry octave by octave, and Lex turned slowly to see Clark standing in The Jungle’s doorway.  He looked young and frightened and out of place, but his gaze never wavered as he looked Lex in the eye.  Lex frowned severely and started toward him. 

“Clark!  What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I followed you from Smallville because I know something’s wrong!”  Clark replied, the fear evident in his green eyes as he looked upon things he had never imagined before, much less seen.  Archie grinned up at him suggestively, and Clark looked back up at Lex with a blush reddening his cheeks.  Lex shook his head. 

“Get out of here, Clark.  Go home.” 

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong, and who gave you those marks on your back and shoulders!” 

Lex grabbed Clark by the upper arm and was mildly surprised when he met solid muscle that didn’t yield under his fingers.  Clark glared at him. 

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me.”  He said, and Lex nodded a little. 

“All right.  But not here, okay?”  He led Clark over to the doorway and leaned in to make himself heard over the thrash music that was pounding out of the overhead speakers.  The clean scent of fresh cotton and freshly washed male assailed his nostrils and aroused him beyond belief, but he fought to keep it from showing on his face.  “Clark, you’ve got to leave here, now.” 

“Lex I want to help you!  Look, I know that ever since Desiree you’ve felt kind of depressed and everything, but-”

“This has nothing to do with Desiree, Clark!  You shouldn’t have followed me here, this place is dangerous for a boy your age!” 

“I’m not a baby, Lex!  I’m your best friend, and I want to help you before you do something that you’ll regret!” 

Lex sighed and touched Clark’s arm briefly.  “All right, Clark.  Come over to the mansion tomorrow night and I’ll tell you everything that I can.” 

Clark frowned a little.  “Will you really, or are you just saying that so I’ll leave?”

“I swear it, Clark.  Come over tomorrow around six, all right?  Now come on, I’ll get you a taxi back home.” 

“I can go by myself.”  Clark replied as he cast a resentful eye on his friend, and walked out the door.  Lex watched as the heavy steel door swung shut, and was suddenly aware that the club had grown silent again.  A terrible certainty grew in Lex’s heart, and he turned with wide, frightened eyes. 

Lucifer was standing in the doorway of his lair.  He reached out and beckoned to Lex, who walked over to him as if moving in a dream.  Lucifer looked down at him, the sparkling black pupils cool and mocking. 

“He’s very beautiful.”  The growling voice said softly, and Lex shook his head as he felt his throat close with tears for the first time since he’d lost his mother. 

“No.”  He replied softly, pleadingly, and one gloved hand shot out to clamp tightly around Lex’s neck.  Lex gritted his teeth as the big man dragged him into the room behind them and slammed the door.  He spun Lex around roughly, and pinned him up against the concrete wall. 

“He is the one you desire, and he is why you come here to be punished.” 

“Master, please-” Lex began, and the gloved fingers tightened around his neck, cutting off his air.  Lex gasped for air and his hands scrabbled against the older man’s fingers as he tried to free himself. 

“When you return here tomorrow, you will bring me the boy.  He will be your homage for the evening.”  The fingers relaxed and Lex coughed violently as he slid to his knees, black dots dancing in his vision. 

“Please no.”  He gasped, and Lucifer crouched down to grasp Lex’s chin.  He forced the billionaire’s eyes upward to meet his own. 

“If you disobey me, Alexander, I will have the boy hunted down and brought before me.  There, you will be forced to watch while he dies a slow death and your dreams of having him will turn to dust.”  A leather-clad finger stroked his cheek.  “Obey my command, please me . . . and his virgin flesh will be your reward.” 

Lex’s breath caught in his throat at the words and he stared up into those glittering black pupils, the promise of Clark’s sweet young body dancing within.

                                                 *************************************

Clark’s hopes of helping his friend face whatever demons he was battling were raised as Lex let him into the mansion promptly at six p.m. the following evening.  Joaquin showed him into the study where was waiting.  He wore slacks and a finely knit pullover sweater that was the exact shade as his eyes.  He smiled at Clark expansively, and it warmed the boy’s heart to see it.

“Lex, hey.” 

“Clark.”  Lex poured himself a drink from the decanter where he kept his scotch.  “Can I get you something to drink?” 

“No thanks.”  Clark sat down on the couch and cleared his throat.  “Listen, about last night . . . I’m sorry that I followed you, but you’ve been acting really strange ever since Desiree tried to hurt you and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

“I understand, Clark.”  Lex turned and studied the boy, sitting there on his couch so young and earnest in his faded jeans and red flannel shirt.  Lex imagined he wore either a red or blue t-shirt underneath it.  “And I appreciate it.”  He sipped his scotch.  “You thought that I was doing something that was endangering my health, and like any good friend, you wanted to find out the truth.” 

Clark nodded.  “And that place last night, Lex?  What is it?” 

“Just a club, Clark.  I’ve been going there ever since Desiree left.  I’m going again tonight, as a matter of fact.” 

“Lex, no!”  Clark’s green eyes widened.  “Come on . . . that place didn’t exactly seem full of healthy people.  Let’s just hang out here.  We’ll play some pool, maybe talk some more?” 

“Actually, I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.” 

“Me?  But I thought you said it was dangerous for someone my age.”  Clark’s tone grew slightly petulant, and Lex gave him an amused smile. 

“Sure, if you’re alone.  But you’ll be with me, and I want you to meet some of my friends.” 

Clark frowned curiously, his dark brows drawn together.  “I thought you were worried about what my folks would say.” 

“Well . . . ”  Lex took another sip of his scotch.  “Like I said, you’ll be with me.”  He set his glass down and motioned for Clark to follow him.  “Come on.  We won’t be long, I promise.” 

Clark stood up with a shrug.  Okay, sure.  Why not?” 

“Great!”  Lex grabbed his keys and headed for the door.  Clark followed, eager for a ride in the Porsche and the chance to be with Lex in Metropolis. 

                                                     ***************************************

Lex said little on the ride into the city, his thoughts chasing each other in a circle like a rat running on a wheel.  He knew what he was risking by taking Clark to Lucifer, but Clark had foolishly exposed himself to the dominator when he’d followed Lex to The Jungle.  Now Lex had no choice; he would either have to turn Clark over, or watch him die by the man’s hand.  Better that Clark hate him for the rest of his years for this betrayal than watch him die tonight. 

“Are you okay, Lex?”  Clark asked, breaking into Lex’s thoughts, and the older boy smiled at him. 

“Yeah Clark, I’m fine.”  He pulled into the private lot and locked up the Porsche.  Clark looked up at the sky to see that the stars here were dimmed by the bright lights of the city. 

“We have to walk from here, Clark.  Come on, and walk right beside me, all right?  Don’t lag behind.”  Lex pulled the heavy gates of the lot shut, and the security guard locked them tightly.  Clark fell into step next to his friend as they headed down into the fringes of the former Suicide Slums.  Fifteen minutes later, they were at The Jungle’s front door.  Lex took a deep breath, his heart thudding in his ears.  Clark glanced at him. 

“Lex?” 

“I’m okay.  Come on, let’s go in.”  Lex pulled the steel door open and stepped into the smoky, musky room.  Clark followed, his nose wrinkling. 

“Lex, maybe we-”

“It’s all right, Clark.  I have a lot of friends here.”  Lex glanced over at the red door which was open just enough for a body to slip through.  Lex hesitated, and then remembered Lucifer’s threat.  Lex didn’t doubt that the man would hunt Clark down, either . . . he was truly a psychotic.  He closed his eyes briefly, and motioned for Clark to follow him.  “Come on, I want you to meet someone.” 

Clark followed him across the room and looked up at the red door as Lex opened it just far enough for both of them to go inside.  The interior of the room was almost completely dark, and Clark glanced around. 

“Lex?” 

“Don’t worry, Clark.”  Lex replied softly as he stepped away from him.  “Everything will be all right.” 

An oil lamp flared to life several feet away, and Clark turned.  His heart leapt into his throat like a panicked animal as a big man dressed in leather and wearing a mask came toward him.  All Clark could see of the man’s face were the pupils of his eyes, and his lips.  Clark swallowed hard and glanced at Lex, who was looking up at the big man as well. 

“You’ve done well, Alexander.”  The big man said, and began to advance on Clark.  Clark backed away until his shoulders bumped into the opposite wall and suddenly a debilitating pain gripped his insides, doubling him over and blurring his vision.  At the same time the big man grabbed him by his shirt and pinned him against the wall. Clark tried to struggle, but he had been rendered powerless by a large piece of meteor rock that sat on a shelf above his head along with several candles, one of the many oddities Lucifer had used to decorate his lair. 

“Lex!”  Clark cried, and Lex turned away, his heart sick as Lucifer forced Clark to his knees and shackled his wrists to the wall.  Clark continued to scream Lex’s name as Lucifer stripped the boy down to his underwear and threw the discarded clothing aside.  Clark looked up at the masked man, his eyes wide with fear.  Lucifer glanced at Lex. 

“Alexander.  Come.” 

Lex approached, the sight of Clark’s nearly naked body causing an erection that throbbed with a demand for release despite his reluctance.  Lucifer glanced down at him. 

“Your obedience pleases me.  The boy is yours.” 

Clark blinked up at Lex with disbelief at the man’s words.  “Lex . . . how could you do this to me?”  He asked softly.  The distance from the meteor rock to his body had widened a little when Lucifer had forced him to his knees, lessening the pain, but the weakness was still there. 

“I’m sorry, Clark.”  Lex said softly, and then shook his head.  “No . . . this is wrong, I can’t.  Not like this.”  He turned to Lucifer.  “Not like this.” 

The big man chuckled low in his throat.  “This is what you want, Alexander.  Perhaps all you need is a little incentive.”  The riding crop came out of nowhere and began to rain blows down onto Clark’s shoulders.  Clark cried out in pain and fear, the shackles rattling as he twisted this way and that, trying to avoid the crop.  Lex stepped forward. 

“No!  Stop!”  He shouted, and Lucifer elbowed him aside roughly.  The crop snapped across Clark’s cheek and left a bloody weal, and then Lucifer was unshackling Clark’s wrists and hauling the sobbing boy to his feet. 

“Lex, please!”  Clark shrieked, and the leather-clad man dumped him onto an old brass bed nearby.  Clark scrambled to his knees, but Lucifer wound his fingers into Clark’s raven curls and pulled hard, yanking the boy back into his chest.  His arms went around Clark’s lean waist and he ground his erection against the boy’s ass.  Clark’s eyes widened as he felt the huge thing press into him, and he screamed again.  Lucifer reached over to a table that held a scatter of sex toys and picked up a ball gag with leather straps.  He forced it into the boy’s mouth to muffle his screams, and snapped the straps shut in the back of his head.  With that accomplished, he handcuffed Clark’s hands to the brass headboard and shoved him forward roughly.  The teenager was now trapped in a kneel, his hands stretched over his head, his ass hiked into the air.  Lucifer spread the boy’s thighs wide, and hauled his own erection from the leather shorts he wore.  Lex stepped up next to him. 

“I won’t let you do this!” 

“You haven’t much choice, boy!  I offered you his body as a reward for your obedience, but you were too weak and frightened to take him!”  Lucifer leaned over and bit the back of Clark’s neck.  The young boy moaned in fear around his gag, and Lex’s eyes flashed with anger. 

“He belongs to me.  He has always belonged to me.” 

Lucifer hesitated, and then he chuckled low in his throat as he backed away from Clark slowly. 

“If you truly think so, boy, then show me.  Posses him without hesitation, convince me of your ownership, and perhaps I won’t destroy him.” 

The muscles in Lex’s jaw tightened and he stepped up alongside the bed.  Clark looked at him, his face tearstained, his green eyes wide with terror, and Lex reached down to stroke the dark tousled curls gently. 

“You’ve been wondering why I’ve been pushing you away, why I’ve been so secretive.  Now you know.”  Lex said softly, and Clark whipped his head from side to side as he tugged wildly on his restraints.  “I’ve tried so hard to shield you from it, Clark . . . ever since that day on the bridge.  I tried to bury it with Victoria, and then with Desiree . . . but now I know that its too big to bury.  I can’t hide it anymore.” Lex climbed up on the bed and picked up the handcuff keys from the nearby table.  He undid one end, turned Clark over onto his back, and then refastened them to the brass headboard.  Clark gazed up at him with disbelief, breathing in panicked snorts through his nose. 

“Shhhhh.”  Lex soothed, and his fingers slipped inside the waistband of Clark’s briefs.  Clark uttered a muffled squeal as his friend pulled them down, baring his genitals for the first time to someone else’s gaze.  Lex stared at them for a long time, as if memorizing every inch of flesh and every soft curl of dark hair.  Clark continued to writhe, and Lex reached out to stroke the limp, frightened organ.  The skin was soft and silken, and just the feel of it made Lex’s erection ache.  Clark’s hands opened and closed helplessly in the cuffs as he watched Lex; Lex, his best friend, kneeling between his widely spread thighs, one pale hand fondling the thing that had never been touched by anyone except himself.  The expression on Lex’s face was one of rapture, and there was something in it that was so full of power that it made Clark afraid all over again.  He tried to plead with Lex through the heavy gag, but his tongue and lips were trapped.  All he could make were unintelligible sounds.  Lex hushed him again. 

“