"Why should I trust you?"

Back against the wall, gun to his head. And Lex Luthor ready to pull the trigger.

"You shouldn't." Face-off. No hesitation. No looking away. Only expectant distrust.

Silence, and he can breathe again. The gun is still aimed at his temple, but not touching. Minimal acknowledgment of honor among thieves. "Right answer." Safety locked but the gun isn't lowered. Threat existent only in his mind. In Lex Luthor's face. "Where is it?"

The only sensible thing to do is smirk. Let off the hook and risking the frying pan. To assert independence if not dominance, confidence in the face of unspoken danger. "I don't have it." It would have been stupid to keep it. He's seen enough to know when to hide.

"Not with you." Unveiled accusations speak for themselves. It has to be somewhere, obviously, and the fact that Lex has to ask is a victory in itself. "Tell me. Where. It is." Each word sharp and raises the stakes. The more he has to ask, the more he'll make him pay. Later. How much is victory worth?

"I told you. I don't have it with me." It's a challenge, of course, but Lex doesn't release the safety, doesn't step closer. His face darkens though, and the look there is more frightening than the barrel of a gun. Especially to those who have seen what he can do. Surrender is next, but he's still in control. Which is quite an achievement, given his opponent. "I'll show you where it is."

Contemplation and a smirk, more than just business. It's sensual, the way all things touched by Lex's eyes become sensual, and he's ready to give up the goods. It was inevitable anyway; he'd decided long before they met in this parking lot, away from Lionel's hidden cameras. Fringe benefit of an expensive sports car, maybe heady drinks later. Probably. "Show me."

"Get in the car."

But when Lex wins he wins all the way. He has to drive, and Lex tosses him the keys, knowing there are thirteen other cars in the garage if anything happens to this one. Lex is material, but not enough to grow anxious over the possibility of destruction. That's what insurance is for.

He gets in the driver's seat, and starts the engine.

"And Lucas," Lex says, passing him the driving gloves, "you don't want to fuck with me." End of conversation.

Downshifts, upshifts, and three traffic lights later, they turn into a gated drive. Lex gets clearance, not questioning the destination, because Lucas is just clever enough to have hidden it in Lex's penthouse. It's a strike against him, and Lucas remains in control.

The elevator ride up is full of sweeping eyes and suggestive glances, nothing Lucas isn't used to by now from Lex. It's a game they play, seeing how hard they can flirt until one of them gives in, and so far Lucas has lost. Receiving is losing, getting blown or fucked, but it hasn't come to fucking, not yet. Lex just got a little too close that one time, and now Lucas has to even the score.

He doesn't mind.

"He's paranoid," Lucas says, which means there was more than one.

"He's smart," Lex counters, bypassing the security. "Who has the others?"

"Clark has at least one that I know of." Clark has only one, and doesn't suspect that there are others. He has a single purpose. Short-sightedness, but he's not involved in any of this, so it doesn't matter. "I don't know how many others there are. It took some maneuvering to find this one."

"You stole it from me."

"You stole it from Lionel." Point, counterpoint. Things are looking up. Then his back is against the wall again.

"Why do you insist on playing these games?" Lex is in his face, and that's not an entirely unpleasant thing. He hasn't been drinking tonight, unless you count double espresso shots from somewhere downtown. "You're not Lionel. Why are trying to be like him?"

He's tasted Lex's lips before, so he sucks an earlobe. "Maybe I'm trying to be like you." Flattery and defiance in tandem, another small victory when Lex inhales sharply. Lucas bites down on the earlobe before lipping the shell of Lex's ear, running his tongue along the edge. Stoic swallow and Lucas attacks his neck, sucking hard. A mark is a loss for both of them, lack of control, and Lucas pulls away first. Lex is breathing hard.

Walking is a bit awkward now, but getting turned on will do that to you. Lex follows silently as Lucas makes his way to the entertainment room. Confusion follows as well, although Lex would never admit to it, and Lucas cheers inside his head.

It's in a DVD case, one of the ones he'd bought when Clark was visiting. *The Waterboy*, a sophomoric atrocity of slapstick comedy, something Lex would never watch on his own. Something Clark's already seen, so he won't need to again, and the plastic casing has been manipulated to contain lead. Lex gets to open it, because this is his humiliation.

Metallic green key with Kryptonian symbols, one of a minimum of three. Lex turns it over in his hand, easily seduced despite his familiarity with the object, and Lucas plasters himself to Lex's back. Covers Lex's hand with his own on the key, octagonal and mysterious, thin hard hand on top of a softer version, shared chromosomes and unwilled erections. They're good at turning each other on, and the wrongness of it was never an issue, because that's a concern of other people. Not them.

Skin stretched over the occiput, under his lips and it always makes Lex's breath hitch at the first touch. Lex is holding tightly to the key like an excuse, and Lucas lets him have it. It won't be enough later, but it's enough for now. Not Lex's decision, but it's nice to let him think it is. Necessary, even.

The key is long forgotten by the time he tumbles Lex onto the couch. Still visible if they want to look at it, which Lex might, on his back under Lucas. Fighting kisses like words, they battle, biting and thrusting until one of them makes a noise. It's Lex. The shirt's the first to go, because marks are allowed there, licking around nipples already hard from anticipation. From the key or sex, doesn't matter, because Lex has both now and the scientist is just a man with needs. Bodily desires are just as valid as laboratory experiments, and Lucas knows this, uses it to conquer Lex.

Sucking down the treasure trail and Lex has to take his own shirt off, because Lucas only unbuttoned it. Slacks unbuttoned next, two buttons and a scraping zipper that Lucas takes his time with, presses down as he pulls down and Lex can barely keep himself from thrusting. Shoes already kicked off at some point, not important as pants and socks are discarded, forgotten on the floor. Lex is naked, and Lucas is fully dressed, and this is a victory he plans to take full advantage of.

Friction makes Lex beg, makes him hard enough that he asks for it. "Suck me," giving permission, and Lucas kisses his mouth in apology. That it has to be this way, that it is this way, that they can't be normal like the rest of the world. Lucas Dunleavy prepares to go down on Lex, wondering when sucking will turn to fucking and everything will be alright again. Halfway is never alright, and this is only halfway. He wants it all.

It's not the first cock he's sucked, and it won't be the last, but it's the first time it's Lex's cock and that's all that matters. It's better in a house, in a room, a place he knows is safe and his brother gives him this. Gives his body with promises in every look, even the time he sucked Lucas, and that was the first time Lucas only needed to focus on the person on his knees. Not looking around checking for quick exits and making up excuses to leave. He doesn't want to leave Lex, and when stealing can get his attention, Lucas steals. Lex already stole his heart, though he'll never admit it, and everything else he gives Lex is given freely. All's fair when there's honor among thieves, a rare thing, they both know, and they take from each other. Giving, taking, have blurred into one action. This.

Lex doesn't touch him at first, and Lucas doesn't want it to be like that. He stands and strips quickly, creates equality, and pulls Lex's fingers onto his head, into his hair. Hard under his mouth, and all he needs to do is lick, and Lex's hips are shaking in his hands. Holds him down and Lex still resists, tries to get closer, and his tongue isn't as soothing as it is teasing. He wants to drive Lex crazy, wants Lex to beg for more.

Lex's hips are rocking now, strange gentle rhythm that asks for touch. Tongue is joined by lips, all along Lex's cock, hard and pulsing under his ministrations. Jerking as he pulls back to position his mouth over the head, opening wide and going down in one smooth motion. A sound from Lex, too dignified to be called a gurgle, Lex grips Lucas' hair like a lifeline. The pull is good, it keeps him sane, keeps him from losing himself in Lex's smell and taste. This act is about Lex's pleasure, Lucas' dominance, bobbing head on bobbing cock and need becomes a thing that's shared.

It fills him, more than just his mouth because he has all of Lex inside him. Body and soul, the throb transfers from Lex's cock to Lucas' heart, pounding and making him sweat and swallow. Hoarse groan from above encourages Lucas, takes him all the way down until Lex is down his throat and Lucas is chin to balls. Triple sensation and tease and give, it's all the same thing. Hips in his hands and they're rocking together, fucking each other in this heady dance that takes them somewhere else. Away from last names and power and games, closer to sublimation that overwhelms.

Lex is coming, too soon, and Lucas rides it, closes his eyes and swallows as much as he can. Holds Lex in his mouth as long as he can, until the groans turn to whimpers and he carefully climbs up Lex's body to share what he stole. Borrowed, truthfully, but either way Lex forgives, doesn't forget and sucks Lucas' tongue, lets him know he's wanted. And Lucas is grateful.

There's no morning after with Lucas, with Lex, and it would have been too far coming anyway. They fall asleep on the couch at three in the morning, still tangled together and putting off wondering who will wake up to regret first and most.

It's Lucas, but he can't bring himself to regret, so he doesn't try. Lex will, probably, and Lucas hates that, but he can't say anything. He showers alone, hoping Lex doesn't wake up.

The gun is next to the key, somehow, and Lucas holds both in his hands. The gun, he understands, something safe and cold. He can't understand the key, what it means to Lex, to Lionel, to Clark. All he knows is that it's what defines Lex as a scientist, what he goes out of his way to protect, to hide. Back in the lead box it goes, fits between the other DVD cases like an innocent. Blends in easily. Too easily for comfort, and Lucas thinks that's why Lex doesn't trust him. Doesn't understand him.

He's gone before Lex wakes up, back in a bar somewhere in Edge City where he'll play pool or cards until he has enough money to survive for the next few weeks. Lex would let him live there, in the penthouse or in the mansion, but Lucas isn't a charity case, won't let Lex treat him like one. Gifts are not given, they are taken, and Lex will have to learn. Lucas will teach him.

Maybe Lex thinks he just wants the attention, and it's true but not the way he thinks it is. Lex thinks Lucas wants attention wherever he can get it, from whomever, the source doesn't matter and sex is just sex. Lex doesn't know it's about him, who he is, who Lucas needs him to be to show him he's not just an alley rat. Hustling keeps him alive, but it doesn't help him live. That's what Lex does.

It's not about the key, not to Lucas. He thinks maybe Lex knows this, hopes he does and doesn't know how to tell him. The key is just an ace in his sleeve , something to help him get closer to Lex. Maybe it's manipulation and maybe it's not right, but it works and Lex's scruples are just slightly more existent. Less, even, if you consider the way he's investigating Clark, and doesn't let Clark know. That's low, even for Lucas. But he doesn't judge.

Stock reports praise the Luthors, fractions of a point separating LexCorp and LuthorCorp that no doubt lead to duels between father and son. Words are thrust like epees, challenging and gloating, parrying to the death of their companies and their integrity. Corporate buyouts pit father against son, not to mention scandals and other business transactions that make Lex unreachable, unresponsive to Lucas' attempts at contact. He's not supposed to choose sides, not supposed to want Lex to beat Lionel, even though it's Lionel's fault that they both are who they are. He thinks that isn't fair, that they blame Lionel too much, but it's easy, like Lucas, and some things never change. Mud-slinging only goes so far, and Lionel is weakening. Lucas convinces himself that he doesn't care.

He's certain he'll give in to Lex next time they see each other. It's only natural. Lex has always been stronger, faster. It's only a matter of time.

It's the parking lot of another bar, another gun to his head, only this time he can't see the man's face. Being a shark means coming up short sometimes, and right now he doesn't have the money. He'll get out of it, somehow, always does. Even if he doesn't, he'll die, and time will pass him by and concentrate on more important collections of molecules. He knows he's a waste of time, and he tries to make the most of it. Regret doesn't come easily. Neither does fear.

"Do you want to die?" Not his attacker's voice, but one he recognizes, and Lucas isn't ready for it. "Get out of here." Possessive growl that sends shivers down his spine, sound of running footsteps. He's possessed, and he likes it. Likes the sound of Lex's voice defending him.

"How deep are you this time?" Lex's back to him but that's okay, at least he's here. Trenchcoat flaps to the side as Lex tucks the gun back in his belt, then turns to assess him, demand to know how much trouble he's in. "Well?"

"Two grand." No point sugar-coating it. Doesn't want to anyway, and Lex knows when he's lying. Penny on the sidewalk to Lex, a living to Lucas, but their worlds collide regardless. It's been inevitable since he didn't sign his name to the paper, didn't sell his soul to Lionel. Lex has been there ever since, protecting him, trying to give more than he cares to admit, more than Lucas wants to accept. But he has to, for reasons of pride and survival, and doesn't let himself regret. That's Lex's emotion. Lucas has ambition.

Sharp nod, unreadable expression as usual. Lucas follows him to the car, convertible this time, and they sit in silence for several minutes. Lex offers because he has to, and Lucas denies because he doesn't want to. "None of this would have happened if you'd stay at the penthouse." It's deviant, but when has Lucas ever not been deviant? He wants to stay, wants to be with Lex, more than just brotherly love and socially acceptable partners, but there's a problem of dependence. Lucas doesn't want to have to depend on anyone, is scared of what will happen if he lets Lex take care of him. Of what he'll become, of the part of him that will fade.

You have so much potential. Thrown to the dogs from the beginning, given temporary families only to be pulled out every few months. Was never able to get close enough, too close, knowledge of a father who can make people disappear. Made his own son disappear, until he let Lex find him, and that was Lionel's biggest mistake. Because it's two against one now, even if he's not supposed to be on Lex's side. It is what it is. He's not ashamed of it.

"When was the last time you ate?" Caviar or cigarettes? Lex thinks Lucas is too thin, always says so, but Lex is lean, skinny even. Lucas can't help but not approve, even though Lex doesn't look so skinny when his clothes are off, when they're equals only in their nakedness. It'll never be the way it's supposed to, but that doesn't stop him from trying. From wanting.

"Last night." He had to think about it for a minute, because he's not hungry. Maybe he didn't even eat last night. Whatever the case, Lex will feed him. Lex will make sure he's full and satisfied.

The parking garage is cold and impersonal, but Lex's presence is all he needs. He kisses Lex for sixty floors, a few minutes that prepare him to give it all to Lex. He's ready to fold, and he's thinking that surrender has never looked so good.

Lex has tv dinners, surprisingly, but Clark was in town recently so maybe he shouldn't be so surprised. Lex doesn't insult him with fancy foods and lectures on French cuisine, because Lucas isn't Clark. That kind of stuff impresses Clark, begins to seduce him, and Lucas wishes he were a farmboy with no idea what it means to have lived in a different house every season of the year. Recyclable families that pity and primp, promise that he'll find his place someday. Never mind that he's found his place, and it's with Lex, if only as second best. A knowing substitute until Clark comes around (out, in, to) for Lex.

They watch The Godfather, and Lucas disturbs Lex by pointing out all the things they do wrong. It's uncommon to put him off balance and Lucas thrives on it, tongues Lex's ear until he's not paying attention to the movie any more. Seduction aided by unguardedness, and Lex lets it happen. Maybe he's just as tired as Lucas.

Lex's bedroom is too far away but there's a spare room right here. Bed's made, futile occupation just like everything else in this forsaken life. Money makes things happen that mean things to Lex, like made beds and business deals, and all Lucas can think of is ashes and dust. It's meaningless, all of it, and Lex has enough money to pretend otherwise. That's what this might be about, pretending to forget that nothing matters and everything is inevitable, because when he's with Lex anything seems possible.

And Lex, again, is the first one to undress. It doesn't make sense but he accepts it for what it is, starts to pull off is clothes and give himself to Lex but Lex is on his hands and knees telling Lucas to fuck him. How did this happen? Questions aren't adequate answers, but it's more than he'll get from Lex, who believes that things happen for a reason and that he makes his own destiny. Lex never questions, just does, and Lucas is almost okay with that. He's not stupid, though, and doesn't ask, goes along with Lex's promises and gets ready to finish it.

Tries not to wonder when Lex decided as he stretches him, trying to be gentle but his hands are shaking. It's never been like this, so easy, so little persuasion, and surely Lex is insane, or drunk, or something but he drove them here, and he's clean. Lucas is too, but only because he didn't have the money, couldn't afford to get high until he found a better target or someone took pity on him. That's not what Lex is doing, he hopes, thinks Lex is too familiar with pity to give it away like that. It would be a slap in the face and maybe it's just better if they don't talk about it.

Lex is tight and Lucas realizes that maybe being on your knees is what puts you in control, because Lucas isn't in control of his body right now. He follows Lex's movements, grips hips that move too fast under his hands. His thighs find their way around Lex's chest and then Lex is sitting in his lap, too good at this and Lucas doesn't know how it's possible that both of them are equals in this, right now. Lex is hot around his cock and making him see stars, but Lex isn't unaffected either. There's evidence in erraticism and moans that come straight from his gut, his and Lex's voices mingling until he doesn't know which voice is his own.

It's an animalistic thing, centered in this body and this thrust and this feeling of being held even though he's the one doing the holding. Reciprocity becomes synchronicity as Lex pulls him to the edge, pauses at the brink only to fall with him. Both their hands work on Lex and yes, Lucas comes first and the hierarchy of dominance isn't what he thought it was. It's entirely possible that Lex doesn't hold grudges, isn't counting the cards because he doesn't wait until Lucas is finished, lets the chips fall together.

It hits him that maybe this is more than game to Lex, too.

Suddenly it's over but it's not, because Lex isn't telling him to leave. Lex drops off to sleep easily and Lucas watches him. He's not tired, sex wakes him up and it's enough, for now, to watch Lex. Watch him sleep. No one has ever trusted him enough to fall asleep after, with him still there. This is new and good and he wraps himself around Lex's body, trusting to binarily coded security systems and ruined silk sheets. Not just borrowed, not stolen. Shared, now, Lex wants to share this and Lucas considers letting him. Trusting him.

When Lex wakes up a few hours later, squinting under the morning sun, he seems surprised that Lucas is still here. Not disappointed or angry, just surprised, and he rolls over and puts his arms around Lucas before Lucas can stop him. More surprise when Lucas relaxes in his arms, Lucas can feel it in the way Lex is looking at him and for the first time he gets to see how his bedpartner is looking at him, after. It should scare him but it doesn't. Somewhere he knows this doesn't mean the loss of his independence. It's a small matter to gather Lex against his body and accept this with an earnest look and a hard kiss. Gentleness follows, and it's not unacceptable.

Staring at the ceiling leads to holding hands, somehow, and when he gets up to take a shower Lex tightens his hand on Lucas'. Lucas pauses, stands beside the bed as Lex looks up at him, and he sees himself in Lex's eyes. More than a promise.

"Stay."

Not just today. Not just tonight. It's an invitation, a request.

He leaves his hand in Lex's as he crawls back into the bed. The sun is in his eyes so he looks at Lex through his lashes, and understands. Thank yous are overrated, so Lucas kisses him. "Yes." They shower together.