Fall from Grace
By Elandria Lore

It doesn't occur to him to be afraid of Lex until his fist is caught in Lex's hand, and Lex's silvery eyes are shining with laughter. Eyes wide with surprise, Clark looks from Lex's hand to his face, and Lex actually smiles when his other hand comes up to clutch at Clark's throat.

"Little different from the other side, isn't it?" Lex asks before slamming him up against the wall. The wall that had been across the room and was now against his back, and Lex just presses closer. Clark gasps at the suddenness of the move, and the pressure around his throat, because Lex is lifting him up too, Clark's toes barely skimming the floor.

And he says, "Lex." Gasps it, and Lex's smile twists on his face and Clark is being tossed to the ground.

"So fucking hypocritical," Lex says, standing over him, and Clark flashes to the moment when Lex was under the Rickman's influence and standing over him with an automatic weapon. This time Lex's smile is harder and sharper, and the weapons he has at his disposal are more painful than bullets. "So fucking smug," he continues and Clark is coughing and struggling to sit up when Lex drops down next to him and roughly rolls him over, pinning his back with a knee and grabbing his hands in a painful grip.

"Lex," Clark says again, but he can't think of anything else. Can't think of anything but the image of Naman and Segeth wrapped around each other and fighting for eternity, and the fact that eternity might end quicker than he ever thought. "Stop this," he says, fighting against Lex's hold on him, "This isn't you."

Lex's laugh is low, and it reverberates down his spine as Lex leans harder against him and whispers in his ear. "You should know," he says roughly. "You made me." Lips graze Clark's ear, and Lex's whole weight is pressing into him, stifling his struggles. "You broke me apart and put me back together in a fucking parody of a villain, and I let you. So willing to be a part of your life, I let you change me, I let you use me, and now," he says, his voice low and caressing, and Clark can't stop his violent shiver, "Now I get to use you back."

Clark wrenches his whole weight trying to flip them over, and Lex just laughs at his struggle and keeps him pinned.

"Do you know what I thought of when I first kissed her?" he asks confidingly. "I thought that if I could just touch her once, just feel her against me, then it would lessen the pain of losing you."

"You're lying," Clark snarls, suddenly more angry than scared. Lex's hands tighten painfully as Clark tries to twist around to look Lex in the eye. "You've just been waiting to get your hands on her," he accuses.

"Clark," Lex says, sighing at him like he's a simpleton. "You're deliberately missing the point."

And then Clark is on his back, his hands over his head and Lex straddling his hips, face inches from his own. "I never wanted to get my hands on her," he says, and his eyes are dark with something that makes it hard for Clark to breathe. And he doesn't want Lex to continue, doesn't want to hear what Lex is going to say next, but he can't open his mouth to stop him. "I wanted," and Lex is barely talking now, just breathing, eyes moving to Clark's lips and then back, "to get my hands on you."

And Clark wants to close his eyes in the face of Lex's look, he wants to pull away, but he can't do either.

"No matter how bad you were for me, no matter how bad you are," and Clark can't help but flinch when Lex's fingers trail across his face. Because Lex is only holding him with one hand now, and Clark should be able to pull away, but he can't bring himself to try. But Lex's eyes harden and he clamps his hand on Clark's jaw. "And when I fuck her," he says roughly, "when I sink into her tight, wet heat, her hands clawing at my back as she writhes beneath me, Clark, calling my name, it's not her I'm fucking. It's you."

And Clark does close his eyes then, letting out a muffled whimper as his mind readily supplies images he's never wanted to see. Images that he hasn't been able to stop thinking about ever since he first saw Lana kissing Lex during his hallucination from silver kryptonite. She always turns to him with accusing eyes; always talks about his lies and mistrust. But it's Lex, Lex who always calls Clark's name when he comes.

Shame burns through him, matching his anger, and both are making him hard. And Lex notices, he's too close not to, and Clark winces at Lex sharply indrawn breath.

"Clark," Lex whispers, drawing his name out with amusement, awe, and want. "Clark."

A thumb on his mouth, lightly tracing it's shape, and Clark shakes his head. In denial and in defiance, but Lex's hand is spread out over his cheek and his jaw, and Lex's breath on his lips is more intimate than any caress.

"Don't," he says raggedly. "Please Lex."

But Lex has stopped listening to him. Stopped hearing his voice, because all Clark ever does to Lex anymore is lie to him. And now, more often than not, Lex calls him on it. Doesn't let it slide. Doesn't let him get away with it.

So Clark is braced for a kiss. Or maybe a punch. Something that would lay him open and vulnerable in front of Lex, like Clark has done to Lex so many times.

And Lex shifts against him, making Clark's throat close with the effort not to make a sound. But Lex isn't moving closer, he's pulling away, letting Clark's hands go and sitting up. Clark's eyes fly open to look at Lex with surprise, and Lex is still smiling slightly, but his eyes are cold and hard.

"So fucking hypocritical," he says silkily, and it makes Clark flush and want to hit him, but Lex isn't on him anymore, but standing above him. "So fucking righteous," he continues, "and yet you still can't help but want me." His low laughter is like glass burrowing into Clark's skin. "I can do anything I want right now, and you can't stop me."

"I could find a way," Clark says, hauling himself painfully to his feet. "I would find a way."

"And you'd fail," Lex says, his smile knife-edged. "I can do anything I want right now," Lex says slowly. "And you can't stop me."

Clark's standing straight, legs braced, hands fisted, looking down on Lex and preparing himself to fight to the death. Preparing himself to fight his once best friend and lose, because Lex is stronger than him now. He's stronger than him, and Clark can already feel Lex's hands on his skin and Lex's tongue in his mouth. He can feel Lex opening up all his closed spaces and filling him; breaking through all his locked doors, and not flinching at what's behind them.

And he's ready; filled with anger and lust and fear, he's ready for Lex to take him.

Because Lex can do anything he wants.

But Lex just looks at him with mild distaste. Turns away. Walks out of the dark warehouse and into the waning light of day. The rustling of his overcoat the only goodbye.

And Clark can't stop him.

Clark can't stop him.