The definition of Ex parte is 1. Law From or on one side only, with the other side absent or unrepresented. 2. From a one-sided or strongly biased point of view.

"Daily Planet. Clark Kent speaking," he said into the phone.

"Clark, it's been a while."

"Lex?"

"Yes, it's me."

"I'm guessing this isn't a social call."

"Well let's just say that a certain mutual acquaintance is here with me." Clark heard Lex's voice grow softer and more distant as if he had turned away from the phone. "Go on, talk to Clark. Go on. Go on!" He heard a slight grunt.

"Hey, Clark . . ."

"Whitney?"

"Yeah, it's me."

Clark bit his lip. He had heard that one of Lex's laboratories had been destroyed in a suspicious fire and after that, he hadn't been able to contact Whitney to ask him if he had been involved. "It's been days. What happened?"

"A couple of his goons caught me. I tried to make a little distraction but it got out of hand. Whatever you do, don't listen . . . "

"Well, Clark, want to talk?" said Lex.

"Where can I pick him up?"

"No, you don't understand. We have to talk first."

"Where and when then?"

"My penthouse tomorrow. 8 p.m."

"You bastard." Whitney was handcuffed and his legs were manacled to keep him from escaping from the cell Lex had been keeping him. He also had two black eyes and several bruises up and down his body . One of Lex's employees had worked him over, asking him over and over again who he worked for and why.

Lex turned to his captive after he turned off the phone. "I'm the bastard? As I see it, you're guilty of arson, trespassing, breaking and entering, industrial espionage, assault, and battery. I think the courts are going to see things my way. My lawyers will easily keep any of your so-called proof out of court as inadmissible and specious."

Whitney just growled.

Lex then bent down and said, "Why are you breaking into my facilities, Mr. Fordman? I can't imagine it's a particularly lucrative endeavor, considering that you're not working for one of my business rivals. Is it because you're trying to make up for that scarecrow incident?"

"How did . . ." Whitney's head jerked up.

"Oh, come on. It really wasn't that hard to figure out," said Lex. "Or is it because someone as witless as you are can see how special Clark is? Or is it some strange mixture of lust and guilt? So, how long have you and he been doing it?"

"Doing it?"

"Don't make me say crude things."

Whitney just tightened his jaw.

"I know about your meetings with Clark in certain hotel rooms. Actually, I was just keeping tabs on him. Good to know where all your old friends are. Imagine my surprise when it was you that he turned to." A flicker of pain crossed those gray-blue eyes.

"What are you going to talk to Clark about?"

"Well, about how much trouble you are in and why I shouldn't just turn you over to the police."

Whitney narrowed his eyes. "You can't!"

"Can't what?"

Whitney clamped his mouth shut. I shouldn't give him ideas, he thought, even though I'm sure I know what he's going to do. Ah, shit! "Don't you dare hurt him!"

"Don't worry about Clark, I don't plan on hurting him. The person you should worry about is yourself."

With that, the door closed.

Son of a bitch, he thought as he closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. He put his face in his hands.

Whitney opened his eyes and sat up. He immediately felt the lingering effects of the interrogation session up and down his body. "Ugh," he grunted. Then he realized he was no longer handcuffed or manacled. He was naked except for a few bandages here and there. He looked around to see a very plain room with a window and blinds. He looked at the clock on the nightstand next to the bed and saw that it was eight p.m. There was a dresser with three framed photographs on top. There was a picture of Clark in his high school graduation robes, smiling with his parents. There was another picture of him standing with Chloe and Pete. Then there was a picture of Clark with his arm around Lex. Clark was beaming into the camera while Lex had a little half-smile. There was an ease in their bearing that needed no explanation. How long, he thought. How long have you been keeping this photo?

"Whitney, I'm so glad you're awake."

Whitney turned to see Clark walk through the door, dressed in jeans and a white shirt. "Where did you find . . ."

"They dumped you in the alley next to my apartment building. You were still unconscious so I had to drag you up to my place. I didn't call the hospital because I was told not to. I didn't see anything that needed emergency attention, so you should be all right. I cleaned you up as best I could. Anyway, I'm really sorry that this happened to you. I shouldn't have asked you to . . ."

"It was my choice to take the assignment. If I wanted to, I could've said no. It's a risk that I wanted to take. I've seen the things you asked me to investigate. They needed to be investigated." He shuddered. He had seen a lot of things during his time in the military but some of what Lex was funding shocked him.

Clark bit his lip, then clenched his fists. "You don't understand. I didn't go fact-finding myself because I'm a coward. I was afraid that if I were to fall into their hands . . ."

"Nobody wants to get killed. Besides, I'm better suited for this. I've had more experience. That's not important. The question is how are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"What happened between you and Lex?"

"He didn't hurt me. We talked."

"Talked?" Oh, come on, thought Whitney, he wouldn't have set me free just because you two talked. But I'm not going to push the issue . . . yet.

"He said the next time that you try to sneak into one of his facilities, he's not going to guarantee your safety. I had to promise him that I wouldn't ever send you on any more of these missions."

"And . . ."

"I had to promise that after you recovered, I wouldn't keep in contact with you any more."

"What?" Whitney winced as he swung his legs off the bed and stood up. "You had no right to promise that!"

"I was trying to save you!"

"So, you do realize that he's capable of killing me, right?"

Clark looked down.

Whitney said, "I get it now. I remember that day I tried to shoot him, you just showed up and kicked down the door, ripped the gun out of my hands and told me that if I ever tried to do something like that again, you'd kill me. You're not trying to bring him down at all. You want him to repent. You're trying to hold him back from doing something even worse."

Clark turned back to face him. "Whitney."

"You're still blaming yourself for what he's been doing. But that's so stupid!"

"Don't tell me it's stupid when it's true!"

"Clark, listen to me. Hear me out. I take full responsibility for what I did to you back in high school."

"I already . . ."

"No, listen, Clark. I was a high school punk with shit for brains back then, but I take full responsibility for what I did back then. I knew what I was doing and if you had ever told anybody, I would have been punished. I'm telling you that Lex has to take responsibility for his shit and face the consequences."

"You don't understand."

"I do understand," said Whitney, picking up the picture. "Ever since I've gotten to know you, really know you . . . I've been trying to be a better person than the one who ran around hurting people for kicks. I had a lot of setbacks but I wanted . . . I wanted to be someone who . . . I don't know how to say it. Someone that you'd want to be with."

"Whitney, there's a lot you don't know about me."

"Don't care. What the hell do I care? I'm a simple jock who understands just this. I love a guy named Clark Kent. And unlike a certain whacko billionaire, I'm not going to play mind games with you or pretend to be one thing while being another. I'm in love with you!"

"Whitney . . ."

"I'm not done yet. You think you can save him but the only person who can save Lex is Lex Luthor. A person has to want to change. It can be inspired by someone, yeah, sure. But it has to come from within. I don't see any sign of that from him. Clark, you're waiting in vain." He held up the picture. "The person in this photo, if he ever truly existed, isn't coming back."

Clark snatched the photo from him and put it back on the dresser. "Don't you think I've told myself all this? Don't you think I tell myself every night that it's hopeless?"

"Then every time you're about to give up hope, he up and calls you over or just happens to be by? Is that it? Clark, I've been in a few relationships like that. They suck and if you're lucky, they end." Whitney suddenly felt very tired. "Can I tell you something?"

"Go ahead," said Clark.

"I thought I was a loser when I couldn't get a scholarship out of Smallville. I mean a loser with a capital L. But do you know who the real loser is? It's Lex. He let you slip through his fingers and that makes me feel like a winner, compared to him. If you're going to do what that fuck-up demands, I've got two conditions of my own to add."

"Like what?"

"Well, got a camera?"

Clark looked in his closet and took out a digital camera. "What are you going to do?"

"I want a picture of us on that dresser. I want there to be proof that we were together. I don't care if anybody else sees it if you don't mind."

"I don't mind even though you look like hell," said Clark, noting the two black eyes on Whitney's face.

"Doesn't matter. Say cheese." Whitney leaned on Clark's shoulder and snapped a picture of them before putting the camera on the dresser. Then he sat back down on the bed.

"I'll print the photograph tomorrow. What's the other condition?"

"I want to blow you. I'd like to do more but I'm in no shape to fuck or get fucked."

"You've been beaten, drugged and imprisoned. And that's what comes to mind?"

"What can I say, it's hard to keep a good man down."

Clark started to laugh and cry at the same time. "I don't deserve . . ."

"Yeah, I know. Now come on over and get it anyway." He motioned towards himself with both hands, and smiles. "Take off your clothes and lie down."

Clark smiled then took off shirt and his jeans slowly, then threw them at Whitney. He enjoyed the smell of his lover off the still warm clothes before setting them down at the foot of the bed. Whitney scooted over to make room for him. Clark got up on the bed and laid out his long, long frame above the sheets. Whitney caressed Clark's cheek with the back of his hand. "Don't be afraid. I'm not afraid."

"Whitney . . ."

Whitney lay down besides him and put his hand on Clark's cheek and moved his face towards his. "I meant what I said. If you want to be with me, then be with me. The hell with Lex." Whitney kissed him and slipped his tongue into Clark's moist and inviting mouth. He felt Clark suck on his tongue and gingerly caress his back.

"Don't want to hurt you any more," said Clark.

"Shhhh . . ." Whitney took Clark's cock into his hand and starts stroking slowly. Occasionally, he uses his thumb to caress little circles around the uncut tip.

"You're teasing me," whispers Clark.

"Damn right," Whitney whispers. "Feels good, huh?" Whitney nuzzled Clark's neck, ignoring the slight ache in his muscles. He smiled as he felt Clark's dick stiffen in his hand. "Just you wait until I suck you dry," he breathed into his ear.

"Mmmm . . . Fuck . . ."

He kissed Clark one more time before placing himself between Clark's thighs. Whitney looked at the magnificent shaft, wrapped his hand around the base and wrapped his mouth around the tip. He aggressively sucked and whirled his tongue around the head. It's not over yet, Whitney thought as Clark moaned and tried to thrust into his mouth. Not by a long shot.

The End

Epilogue:

"What is it, Mercy?"

"What do you want me to do to the reporter and that mercenary friend of his?"

"I've already dealt with the situation."

"But!"

"I know you're new, but I'm warning you. If you take it into your head to do me a favor by paying Clark Kent an unexpected visit, you'll be lucky if you still have your arms and legs by the end of the day. Am I making myself clear? I have my reasons."

"Perfectly, sir!"

"However, if Mr. Fordman decides to pay another visit to any of my facilities even after a warning from our mutual friend, you can finish your interrogation in whatever manner you wish." In fact, I'm counting on it, thought Lex.

"Understood."

Author's note: I considered writing the scene where Lex and Clark "talk," however I wanted to keep this fic Whitney-centric. If I write another one about this particular alternative universe, I'll keep the idea in mind if I do a flashback sequence. Just so you know. (I make no promises, however)