LURE

by Kitty Fisher

BLOOD SPORTS: II

Clark was bored. Despite being surrounded by three hundred half–naked people, he was fed up — too hot, too thirsty, too jostled and too trampled on. All he really wanted was to be back home.

It had been Chloe's idea. The early evening showing of a new movie, in Metropolis. A couple of hours eating popcorn and watching Spider Man web his way across a super–size screen, followed by the best, cheapest burgers in town. She'd even squared it with all their parents. A feat in itself. And she had been so eager, so totally sold on the trip that Clark had agreed. It wasn't as if he spent enough time with either Pete or Chloe anyway. And besides, they'd be home just after midnight.

Except the burgers had turned into pizza. Which was great, sort of, just three times the price. And, as soon as they'd done eating and were back on the street, Chloe had just turned and grinned knowingly, then dragged them in the opposite direction from her car, talking a mile a minute, not letting either of them protest as she led them down a side street, to a grey stone building with a red neon sign above the door. A club. Well, more a pre–club club as it was open so early, but really great and fun and please? She'd fluttered her eye–lashes theatrically whilst promising an hour — just an hour of dancing — then they could all go home. Pretty please? Clark had looked at Pete, who had just grinned. And that was that. Besides, Clark had never been to any sort of night–club. Add in the fact that he was staying at Pete's so his parents wouldn't know. Which in turn meant they couldn't fret about him wreaking havoc on the dance floor if he forgot himself and actually had a good time. All Clark could do was sigh and follow the irresistible force that was Chloe in action.

And it should have been fun. More exactly, he should have been having fun. Except he wasn't. Even if everyone else was, including his friends. He peered down though swirling lights to watch Chloe shouting to Pete as she danced. She looked happy, at home. Smallville must just seem so banal after the big city. Maybe that was why she was so intrigued by every mystery, no matter how tiny, how inconsequential.

Though if she asked about Lex in just — that — tone of voice one more time.

Okay, yes, he was spending a lot of time at the castle. For God's sake yes, he and Lex were friends. Good friends. No, Clark couldn't help find out anything about LuthorCorp because he wasn't going to ask.

The music changed. Destiny's Child. He groaned, and wondered if the club really was as cutting edge as Chloe claimed. Not that she seemed to care — as he watched she grabbed Pete and pulled him close, her hands sliding down to his ass.

Resignedly Clark wondered if they'd notice if he just left. He could be back in Smallville in a few minutes. And, as his parents thought he was staying at Pete's, he could pay Lex a visit. No one would check up on him. Not for hours.

Temptation glittering brightly.

Because they could do a lot with a few hours. Dammit, right now he could have done a lot with Lex in a few moments, let alone hours. But to be with Lex, fucking Lex...

Fuck.

He smiled as he thought the word, still shy of saying it. Fuck, fucked, fucker, fucking, fuck. Words Lex loved and used. Usually when they were alone. More when he was tied up. Serially when he was cuffed to the bed and Clark was driving him to distraction.

Lex. These days he got a Pavlovian hard–on just from thinking his name.

With a faint shrug of his shoulders he looked around. Lex would have hated it here, Clark was sure. A club that closed at midnight? God, everyone just had to be underage. And so far under that most of them had never got further than groping and necking, which made sex their one big priority in life. Which was so desperate. And exactly how he had been six months previously. He smiled, supercilious. Then grinned at himself. If only Lex knew how good he made Clark feel. Good. And horny. Absolutely all the time, 20 hours out of 24 — and the other four were time off just because he was too deeply asleep to dream.

He carefully peered at his watch, sighing as strobe lights made it almost impossible to read. Whatever the time was, they should be leaving soon, wouldn't they? He peered harder, and wondered if it would just be easier to use his special eye–sight and read the clock on the outside of City Hall.

"Hey!" Chloe bounced up to him. A sharp poke in the ribs made him squirm. "You're not dancing!"

"Damn, so I'm not!" He looked surprised and peered down at his legs. "Nope, definitely not dancing at all."

"Ooh, make with the funny why don't you! And you were checking your watch. Clark, that was not the sign of a boy enjoying himself." She was pink and sweating, glowing excitedly.

"Chloe, I'm sorry," he shrugged ruefully, trying hard to appear apologetic, "but I'm gonna head home."

"What?" Pete, carrying two brimming plastic cups. "What's happening? I can't hear a damn thing!"

"I'm going home." Clark shouted.

"How? There's only Chloe's car!"

"I'll get the bus, I'll be fine."

"Why don't you hang around, this is so cool!" Chloe took an offered cup and drank thirstily, big eyes looking up at him over the rim.

He hesitated. Then shook his head. "No. I'm just not getting into it — not like you two anyway!" They both grinned at him.

"Clark, are you sure you'll be okay?" Chloe frowned at him. "I mean, I don't want to see a 'Farmboy Lost in Big City' headline."

"I promise I will be okay." Carefully precise enunciation. "I think I can just about get a bus on my own."

"If you're sure..."

"Chloe..."

"Alright, alright! Don't take any sweets from strangers, little boy!" She grinned up at him.

"I wouldn't dream of it. Okay, I'm heading off. Pete — I'll sleep in the barn, no point waking your parents twice."

"Sure. Though I think you're only doing this to avoid my mom's waffles. I keep telling you, they're not that bad!"

"Yeah, you tell that to the birds you feed yours to..."

"I haven't killed one yet!"

"Mmm, but they all get serious indigestion." Clark grinned. "You kids have fun."

"Thanks, grandpa..." Pete punched him on the arm. "I'll save you some waffles and bring them to school Monday."

"Sadist! Go on, just get back down there and boogie your asses off."

"Boogie? Pete, we have our instruction — lead the way to the boogie–floor, baby!" Chloe tossed her cup into an overflowing trash can. As the music changed she groaned in ecstasy. "God, a Britney classic. I'm thirteen again! Come on, Pete!"

Clark grinned as Chloe dragged Pete back onto the floor. When they were back in the center of the sweating crowd of dancers, he turned on his heel, pushing a way through the clumps of people, apologising again and again, until he reached the door.

There was a line to get in, curling in a messy arc up along the sidewalk. Clark staggered out past the bouncers, breathing fresh air and wondering how the space would stand ten more people inside it, let alone the couple of hundred waiting. Shrugging deeper into his jacket, ignoring the looks he got as he walked away, he headed for the main street. And stopped as a limo pulled across his path.

The car was about twenty feet long, black, with tinted windows. Sighing, Clark turned around, and almost got hit by the passenger door as it slammed open. "Hey!" Mildly outraged he glared, took a step away, about to say something, then just stared at the radiant apparition that stepped out of the car.

"Clark, you doll!"

"Cherry?"

"None other, sweetheart!" She danced lightly around the door and gave him a huge hug. Elegant even in towering perspex platforms, she engulfed him in a cloud of blonde hair and a kiss that had him blushing at its indecency.

"Cherry, what—"

"Just being friendly, hon, seeing as you're like my brother–in–law."

In–laws didn't kiss like that. Well, maybe they did in some places, but not in Smallville, despite what rumour said. He ignored the wayward thought and focused. "Er, brother–in–law?"

"Well, Lex and I are really close, just like sisters!" She leant forward, whispering theatrically. "And he did tell me you two are kinda, well, together."

Shock and amazement and something like outrageous pleasure all combined to make him smile. "Did he really?" Lex had talked about him. About them. He bit his lip and tried not to grin too inanely.

"Mmm. Well, I just had to find out everything. After I set you two up an' all."

"Oh, yes." He looked down, then smiled at her, only a little embarrassment in his eyes. "I guess you did."

"I knew he'd be just fine with you." She was close enough for her cloud of perfume to make breathing an act needing concentration. A sharp nail tapped his cheek. "Though listen up, hon, if you take any of what you do to the tabloids, I'll rip your balls off with my eyelash curlers."

"I wouldn't!"

"Good." She patted his cheek. "Just thought it best to be straight." She giggled. And Clark grinned too, watching as she blew a kiss at one of the prettier boys in the line. Who backed away as his friends all whistled and clapped.

Cherry was beautiful as ever, but tonight she wasn't trying to be the girl next–door; tonight she was — wild. Indecently sexy. With all that hair teased into a foam, make–up that even he recognised as outrageous — the purple, rhinestone tipped eyelashes being a huge give–away — well, stunning was quite a good word. And then there were the clothes — scraps of latex really. Tiny skirt, tinier white top with a red cross emblazoned on the front, that skimmed to just under the curve of her breasts — which, God, had to be implants, but...

She stroked her own hips and winked. "It's my slutty nurse outfit. I love it — I've even got a darling little medical bag, in case of emergencies."

He looked at her.

"Containing nothing illegal you suspicious child, just smelling salts."

"Okay, I've got to ask, why smelling salts?"

"For all the girls — not to mention the queens — who are going to be just faint with jealousy." With a little giggle, she sort of — shimmied — in a way that showed off her outfit, and did outrageous things for her curves.

He winced, wondering what time it was, and whether Chloe and Pete would be walking out the club door any minute. Not that he minded introducing Cherry to them. But Chloe would ask questions for the next month at least. "Cherry, sorry to be rude, but my bus leaves in ten minutes."

"And I thought you were out for a night of debauchery." Cherry tutted.

"He is." A different voice, from inside the limo.

Cherry sighed dramatically. "So, you've finally decided to show yourself."

Clark looked across as another figure emerged past the open door. Flaming red hair in flamboyant waves around a pale, pale face that was stark with blood–red lipstick and black eye–liner. A slim, elegant body sheathed in a black, tailored suit, which covered everything, really, but was so fitted, so curved to every detail and line of skin, of breast and hip and thigh, that Clark sucked in his breath on a shiver of instant heat. Three steps, swaying forward on needle–sharp heels, and she was standing by the door, one tightly leather–gloved hand resting elegantly on metal, the other poised on a canted hip.

She looked like a star from a 1940s movie. Or like the girl in Blade Runner after she'd taken the pins from her hair and kissed Deckard.

Cherry just slid her hand through Clark's arm and looked resigned. "Your phone call go well?"

"Perfectly." Deep voice, sexy and sleepy. She took a pace forward, and Clark blinked as the streetlight caught her face. There was a scar under the glossy, scarlet pout. A scar cutting down where the cupid's bow was painted into place. A scar just like...

"Lex?" Breathless.

Cherry pinched his arm. "Clark, staring is rude! This is Alexa."

Alexa. A Lex a...

Whose eyes were so intense they could burn. "Oh..."

"Hello, Clark." That voice. Jesus. "I thought you were going to the movies?"

"Lex?" Clark gaped, then caught himself and tried to look away. Tried to. But, Lex looked so amazing. So perfect. "Oh, er, yes..." Beautiful. "I did. I mean, we went. Then we came here."

A sweeping glance that took in the building, the line of two hundred fascinated kids, the preening muscle boys at the door, and dismissed the lot with scarcely a thought. "Why this place?"

"I don't know. Because it was open?"

"And now here you are, all alone. What have you done with Chloe and Pete, left them inside enjoying themselves?"

"Yeah." Clark shrugged ruefully. Though if he'd stayed, he'd never have seen Lex. Alexa.

"Yet you're going home..."

"Alexa, don't let him, sweetie." Cherry suddenly tugged on Clark's arm. "Make him come and play with us." Encouraging smile. Followed by a very slightly wicked pout. "You have to, it's my birthday."

"Oh, happy birthday!"

"Just don't ask how old she is." Lex was smiling.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Clark looked up at Cherry. God, maybe she was taller than him in those shoes.

"Sweet boy." Cherry patted his cheek, looking sideways at Lex. "You know you want him to come along."

Alexa lifted an eyebrow.

"Oh! Pish! I know what you were up to on the phone — making sure the doormen would let us in."

Alexa looked down, lips smiling, just a little. "Maybe. Doesn't mean he has to come with us though. He might not want to. Besides, I'm not sure he should."

"How old are you, Clark?"

"Seventeen. Cherry, where am I being invited to?" Clark tried to interrupt, not sure if he was being teased and that any second they'd pat him on the head and send him off to the bus.

"Hush, we're arguing. Alexa, I recall you being wild as anything when you were seventeen."

Exasperated sigh. "The amount of chemical enhancements you indulged in, I'm surprised you remember anything at all."

"Difficult to forget a boy whose ambitions all began with 'more'. More sex, more drugs, more—"

"Rock and Roll. I know."

"Don't be frivolous. Lexa, please? Let him come along? We can look after him — if he needs it."

Clark looked between them, seeing the affection, wondering about the past, wondering what Lex had really been like.

Cherry smiled suddenly. "Please? He hasn't run away screaming at the sight of you dressed."

"Mmm. He gets extra points for that."

"And it isn't as if we're going anywhere really dangerous."

Alexa looked sideways at him, and Clark shivered as searing heat rippled up his spine.

"True."

Cherry sighed. "I adore pretty boys who are ripe and just so full of imagination."

"Hands off, Cherry."

"Shush, as if I would dream of it. I know you two are—" she waggled her nails in the air, "—together. Besides, anyone with eyes can see he's mad about you, so come on, honey, be nice and let the pretty boy play? Clark, sweetie, you do want to come, don't you?"

Clark looked between them, grinned at Cherry. "Sure." As long as he was with Lex, nothing else mattered at all.

"See? Alexa..." Flutter of eye–lashes. "Please?"

"Clark, you really up for this? It might be—" pause, "—educational."

Cherry whispered, "It's bound to be, promise. Alexa is a fine teacher."

"I know." Clark grinned suddenly, and slowly extricated himself from Cherry's wandering hand.

He looked across at Alexa, felt his cock twitch. Lex, hidden under the layers of silk and wool or whatever that outfit was made from. Lex for him to discover. He licked his lips and wondered if Lex liked to be fucked with a dress on. Fucked like a woman.

God, it was such an intense thought. He gasped, remembering to breathe as Cherry poked him with a sharp finger. "Will you two stop fucking each other's brains out right here in the street? It's a lovely spectator sport, but I'm kinda getting a hard–on, and you know it just ruins the line of latex."

Clark shivered, and held his breath as Lex walked to him, all slow sway and burning gaze. In the heels he was the same height as Clark. A step away he paused, narrowing his eyes. "Clark, you don't have to."

Lips in lipstick moved differently. He wondered about it. Then wondered what else would be different. What else would feel different. Red painted lips stretched around his cock. Long hair under his hands. Or, and the thought made him shiver, no wig, just Lex in make–up, naked, tied to the bed.

"I know." A croak. He swallowed, tried again. "I know, but I want to. Please?"

"Clark, just get in the car, okay. You give off any more pheromones and the whole line is going to jump you." Cherry giggled, and gave Clark a little push, making him step a pace forward, pushing him so he almost walked into Lex, bringing his hands up, holding Lex's arms to stop himself. Holding Lex. Muscle. That body under those clothes. Seeing Lex under the veil of Alexa's femininity. The kick of it so weird. So incredibly hot. "Lex?"

Lex was giving that slow not–quite smile. "Come on." A hand sweeping through the lush red waves, he turned, stepped back to the open door and, with an elegant hitch of his tight skirt, bent forward to step into the limo.

Perfect ass. Just perfect. And stockings with a seam running up the back. And he knew they were stockings because when the skirt stretched tight he could see the outline of whatever snapped them into place.

And he had thought lingerie was a myth for old men.

God, what sort of panties was he wearing? She. Alexa was a she. Clark caught the thought and it flooded his mind. This was she. Female Lex. Alexa. He almost groaned. And wondered what else would be different.

* * * * *

They drove a couple of blocks, Clark sandwiched between all the skin and chatter that was Cherry and the mystery that was Lex. Senses in overload, his body hyper–aware of every inch of Lex under Alexa's suit, as it stretched so perfectly over thighs, hips, belly. And, oh my God, the way she crossed her legs and the sound of stockings; nylon on nylon, which was something he had never thought, never imagined could be quite as breathtaking.

By the time they drew up outside a nondescript door, all he wanted was Alexa, alone.

Decanting from the car was an episode in itself, and by the time Cherry had all her belongings, and was certain that she looked perfect, the club door was open, waiting for them. Cherry skipped ahead, kissing the security guards who waited inside, waving at the coat–check girl, squealing in joy when an expensively suited man came up to greet them. He kissed her with familiarity, almost bowed to Lex and with scarcely a blink at Clark's jeans and T–shirt, let the small party inside.

Dark, shadowy space. Pockets of light; brighter by the dance–floor, far less so at the edges. Tables set for intimate dining, booths with high partitions. A long wet–bar. Waiters dressed as angels, complete with tiny wings and a lot of oiled skin, which should have been ridiculous but wasn't, maybe because all the boys were so, well — pretty. The sound system was playing old fashioned music. Really old. And all the couples on the dance floor were dancing real, old–fashioned dancing. Like in movies. Slow stuff that had special moves. It looked daunting. Clark took a breath. A room full of people, a good selection of whom he couldn't reliably have ascribed a gender to, and dancing like he thought didn't happen anymore. He looked around, feeling too much like Dorothy for comfort.

"Don't worry, you're still in Kansas."

Clark relaxed, grinning sheepishly as he turned back to Lex. "How did you know what I was thinking?"

Alexa smiled with Lex's knowledge. "Welcome to the Rainbow Rooms. Everyone feels the same, first time."

"Did you?"

"No. But I was flying the first time I was brought here, and in comparison to what was going on in my head, all this seemed quite normal."

"Wow, what were you on?"

"This and that." Quirk of amusement. "Good thing I'm a grown up, responsible citizen now, isn't it?"

Clark almost laughed. Not quite though. Instead he nodded sagely. "Oh, yeah." There was no need to articulate. Lex was grinning too.

Beautiful Lex. Beautiful Alexa. Alexa. Like Lex's sister. And should that thought be quite so obsessively hot?

Cherry came back, a martini glass in hand. "Come on, you can't stand there just looking!" She wrapped a hand around Clark's arm, melting into him in a mildly disconcerting way that made him realise quite how little latex there was covering her skin. Grinning, as if she knew exactly what Clark was thinking, she winked. "Alexa, honey, lead the way."

A look, and Alexa turned on one spike heel, walking away, the sway of hips lush and somehow disconcerting. Clark swallowed, found his mouth dry. God, why was he reacting so strongly? After all, he loved Lex's cock, and despite how much easier it would have made things, he didn't want Lex to be a woman. Not a real woman. But he was totally overwhelmed by this...difference.

Following in Lex's wake, Cherry tugged Clark along. "You really like Alexa, don't you?"

Yes, he liked Alexa. He might love Lex though. Strange to recognise that important something right now. With Cherry watching him, laughing, and Lex wrapped in disguise and ambiguity.

"Yes, I do." Clark glanced at Cherry, caught her looking at him seriously. "Both her and Lex." Though that didn't sound right. "I mean..."

"Don't worry, I know what you mean. It's a kick, isn't it."

Clark nodded. "God, yes."

"Pretty, pervy boy." She sounded indulgent.

Clark, nonplussed, just tried to look appreciative. And sighed in relief as Cherry saw someone she knew and, with a quick kiss to Clark's cheek, darted away — a man–eating smile wide on her face.

Feeling slightly giddy, Clark almost walked into Alexa. A hand on his shoulder steadied him, brought him close, a curl of soft, scented hair tickling his neck. Lips whispering breathily, "Sit with me."

An oasis of quiet, the secluded table obviously kept for them. For Lex. For Alexa who slid in first, long legs crossing as she sat back, tiny purse laid on the table, gloves slowly unpeeled and placed one on top of the other on the purse. Delicate gold rings banding pale fingers. Manicured nails. Clark sat close, obsessed by the elegance, the carefully precise femininity that was somehow merely an extension of Lex; the undercurrent of masculinity more an emphasis than a detraction. Knowing he was staring, knowing that hunger was there on his face, not at all capable of disguising it. Or even wanting to.

Champagne was brought, and a glass of coke, which made him smile. The waiter poured for the lady, the golden wine effervescing into a tall, thin–stemmed glass. When he was gone, Alexa turned, hand lightly caressing the crystal. "So..."

"God." Deep breath. He felt as if he was only barely catching up with the evening.

"Not too freaky?"

Clark shook his head in slow amazement. "You look amazing."

"Really?" Faint insecurity that was Alexa. Smile that was all Lex.

"You look like a movie star."

Lex sipped from his glass. "Do I?" Teasing look over the rim.

"Yeah." Clark bit his lower lip, then leant forward, breathing in. "Did you know it would turn me on?"

"No. But I wondered. You're deliciously warped sometimes, Clark."

"Hey! You can talk — I'd never have thought of using ice–cubes. Not like that anyway."

Smile, and their eyes met. Speaking some language stronger than words.

"Lex, I want you."

"Want?" Careful look up through thick lashes. "What sort of want, Clark?"

"Jesus, Lex..." Six months ago he would have backed off. Now he understood the laws of desire far more clearly. Knew as well that he was understood; that nothing he could do or say would really shock or disturb Lex, or make him think less of Clark. Nothing sexual anyway. Turn him on, yes. That was remarkably, wonderfully, easy enough. "I want to fuck you. With you looking like this."

"Yes..." Breathy agreement. "The skirt's too tight — you'd have to tear it, rip it from the hem upwards."

Sharp arousal. Intensity like pure oxygen. "Yes... and I'd use the fabric to tie your hands."

"Push me over the library desk, make me beg."

"Fuck you like a woman. Then suck your cock 'til you're screaming."

"Clark." Lex paused. Looked up. Two men were standing very close. They both backed away as Lex stared at them. While Clark burned with embarrassment, wondering how much of what they were saying had been overheard. He sat, dry–mouthed, watching the men walk away, before suddenly realising that he didn't care if they had been listening. The thought was, of all things, liberating. Here, in this place, he really didn't have to care. He laughed, and wondered what the men had wanted. Apart from Alexa of course. "So, I'm not the only one to think you're gorgeous."

Alexa, smiling across her glass. "Maybe not. But you're the only one going to touch me." Another sip of champagne, the glass tilting up as she swallowed, throat muscles rippling.

Alexa fucked over Lex's desk.

He was going to have to ask his mom to start buying larger sized jeans. "Lex?"

"Mmm?"

"So, er, why tonight?"

"A present for Cherry."

"Oh." He stared. So perfect. Make–up like a second skin, the scar a tease under the paint. "Lex, Alexa."

"Well, Candy seems to be the name of choice around here these days — if you look sideways you'll see at least three." Lex raised a darkened eyebrow.

"Candy?" Clark giggled. The thought was so silly. Lex was not a Candy. Alexa though — mysterious, soft, beautiful when mouthed. "Alexa's perfect. I was just being curious."

A slight shrug, and Clark saw that the illusion of breasts was just a matter of fold and cut of fabric. As she leant forward to put her glass down he caught a glimpse of smooth chest and wanted so badly to lick, just there. To slide his fingers under the fabric and squeeze a nipple, to make Alexa groan in abandon in the same way Lex did. He hesitated, then reached out slowly, his hand brushing under the weight of hair to touch skin. Soft skin.

"Alexa, you are so beautiful."

Slightly startled look. A flash of some deep emotion, then she leant towards him, and her lips were by his own. He could see the faint dusting of powder on her skin, the perfect scar on her dark red lips. Clark sighed and bent forward, just to close the small, small distance; to kiss.

But Lex backed away with a secret smile. "Not yet."

"Oh." Clark forced his breath to quiet. His cock was hard, tight against the constriction of his jeans. Tongue–tied but fighting, he needed to say something, something that wasn't just to ask — if not yet, then when? Conversation. He could do it. Cliché? Maybe. "So, do you come here often?"

Alexa leant forward, eyes suddenly wide as one hand dropped lightly onto Clark's thigh. "Not often." Her voice dropped to a teasing, deliberate, Mae West purr. "But while I'm here, I have been known to come."

Come. As in... Clark gulped. Quite suddenly he felt at least as young as he was. If not younger. Somewhere around ten and still fascinated by what on earth mom and dad did when the bedroom door was locked. At least he thought that was what was meant. Wasn't it? He licked his lips, hesitated. "Er..."

"Yes."

"You mean..." Fucking Lex at home was one thing, but doing anything in public? He wasn't sure.

"Yes, I mean."

"In public?"

"Clark, this is a very expensive members–only club. The clients here can do exactly what they want. This room is for dinner–dancing, but there are others. Whatever you want, you can probably find it here, along with all sorts of dark and shady corners, and a very interesting back room."

He'd read about them. Somewhere. Maybe in one of Lex's extremely educational books. But... "Why would anyone want to have sex here?"

A hand lightly cupped his groin, making him jerk, gasp. "Because they can't at home. Or simply so people can watch."

"Just watch?" Oh, so he could still talk.

"If you want. More, sometimes. To fuck when someone can watch you, to fuck like it's performance art. That can be wild, Clark. Imagine being in a room of men, just being at their mercy, taking anything, giving anything, absolutely anything, just for the sake of it. You can be a woman here, or a man, or any variation in–between." The hand squeezed as the lazy voice went on, and Alexa smiled, "There is a place here for everything, you can be or do whatever you want."

Breath hissing out as the hand around his cock squeezed. "Lex..."

"Does that hurt, Clark?" Alexa, all painted lips and wide sultry eyes. "Maybe we should do something about that. Would you like me to slide under the table and unzip you, suck your cock right here?"

"God..."

"Goddess, please."

"Lex, I'm...I'm gonna..."

"No you're not."

And the hand let him go. "Oh." Clark took a deep breath, grinding his teeth as his balls twisted.

"Come on." With a sweep of hair over one shoulder, Alexa stood.

"Where to?"

"Clark, to dance of course."

"But—" He wasn't sure he could stand. Not just yet. Not and be decent. Then he focussed on Lex. On his groin. On the mound of fabric that was trapping his obvious hard on. Clark dragged his gaze higher. Met Lex's eyes. Teasing arousal and laughter and happiness. True happiness. Clark felt a sharp rush of pleasure. Of pride. He could make Lex happy. It was better than almost anything he could imagine. Anything.

"It'll be better for waiting."

He made an incoherent noise in his throat.

"I'll be very nice to you after..."

Oh, Jesus, as if that helped. "But I can't dance!"

Alexa bent forward, mouth so close to Clark's he could almost taste her lipstick. "I promise you'll be able to do this. Come on."

And Clark stood up. Trying to ease his cock so he could actually stand straight. Sidling out of the booth, wondering which was worse, blue–balls or the prospect of making a fool of himself to music he reckoned his grandparents might just have been familiar with. He jumped when a hand slid into his. Looked up. Blinked at the intensity of Lex's gaze, which softened at once, just before he turned away and led Clark towards the dance–floor.

Feeling utterly conspicuous, wondering if they thought his clothes were some sort of statement, he followed. Stepped onto the wooden flooring which was slightly springy underfoot, and was brought into Alexa's arms. The music was slow, sensual.

"Just sway."

Alexa led by example. Clark gave in and followed. Relaxed. And almost groaned when his groin rubbed against the hardness. Beautiful girl with a cock. God, he was so sick. So utterly depraved. And the only thing that would have made it better would have been no people and handcuffs on Lex. He shivered, and nuzzled his head into soft, abundant hair. "Lex..."

"What are you thinking?"

"Of you in handcuffs."

"Oh..." Sharp intake of breath.

"And being alone."

"We'll have the drive home, remember."

Oh, yes. An hour, maybe more, in the very wonderfully spacious stretch limousine. Thank God Lex was so rich. They couldn't have fucked on the bus. At least he didn't think they could have. Though the way he felt now, he could fuck Lex anywhere. Damn, had he really thought that? Did he mean it anyway? He wasn't sure.

Wrapping his arms around supple strength, Clark sighed, and forgot about everything but the pliant, warm body he was holding. Dancing slowly, more a sway from side to side. Hyper aware of skin under clothing. Of need and want and the closeness of sex. Of fucking. Dancing like lovers. In public. More than they had ever done before. In Smallville they hardly touched unless alone, hardly acknowledged anything but friendship. Mutual admiration maybe. Okay, so once alone they touched all the time. Did things that he wasn't really certain anyone had ever done before; had thought himself a freak or worse for wanting so badly to do them. But Lex knew, and understood. Anticipated half the time. And at night, alone, when he lay awake in his bed, when all he could think about was Lex, and sex, and the wild, amazing things they had done since that first time, and his mind considered what they might still get around to doing, he knew he was safe, that he could think/imagine/want pretty much anything, because Lex would want it as well.

Though Lex was still full of his own surprises. The dress for one. The dancing, that too.

Different music, slightly more raw. Trumpets and saxophone. Their bodies touching almost from knee to throat. Thighs pressed together, hips tilted in. Cock teased by cock. Clark moaned as lips kissed his neck. Tiny kisses, a trail of almost breathy sighs. Mouth warm. Sweet–scented. Kissing his ear, nibbling at the lobe, teeth biting until he gasped and his hips jerked forward.

Lazy tilt of Lex's head. Smile in the smoke–grey eyes. "You want to walk around? See what we can see?"

The back room. He wondered if they were going there. If he could cope when they did.

Or if they didn't.

Not at all sure. Slightly breathless with excitement, anticipation, fear too. Lex was capable of pretty much anything. The wildness under the control a lightning–rod for Clark's own arousal. Though Lex couldn't want him to do that much, could he? Not quite so publicly as this. The whole Luthor name thing would stop that — and Clark's age. Clark swallowed, wondering if Lex would let any of that stop him if he really wanted something. And Lex was in disguise. The wig, the makeup, the walk. He could be anyone. Anyone at all.

The music changed. Clark let himself be guided away, through the tables, the groups of laughing, talking, wildly dressed men and women, the angels, the men in dress–suits, the boys in spandex.

There was a mirror on one wall. Clark stared. Reflection like a dream.

"I should be wearing something more like your outfit."

"A suit."

"Yes." Clark lifted Lex's hand, holding it as he bent to the slim wrist, and kissed soft skin, just where the veins twisted close to the surface, tonguing, feeling the blood rushing so close, sucking gently. Eyes still fixed on the mirror image, watching Lex shiver, watching him in return. Lifting his head after one last kiss. "And you could teach me to dance properly."

Nod, voice like crystallized honey. "Yes, I could."

Skin like silk. Warm and pliant. God he wanted Lex now. Wanted Alexa too, though only as a distraction. Lex was the sum of his cravings. Lex as Lex. The dress was like an accent. Like expensive wrapping. Veiling. Lex there, strong and solid and perverse as fuck.

He had been such a nice boy. He grinned, straightening.

"What?"

"You've corrupted me."

"I should hope so — but in which particular way?"

"Nice boys don't want to fuck their boyfriend in drag."

"Well, I guess really nice boys don't have boyfriends at all." Lex pulled him close. "Or have fantasies about tying them up and whipping them."

"No..."

"So, the dress thing is almost normal. I'm almost half–way to being a girl."

"Lex..."

"You can fuck me on the way home. If you indulge a little whim."

"Wh... a whim?"

Secret smile. Dilated eyes, like liquid ink. "Mmm. Nothing too wild, and you might even enjoy yourself. Promise."

"If I get to fuck you in the car? Anything."

Tiny catch in Lex's breathing. "I want to sit on your cock, ride you."

"Skirt up around your waist."

"Hands bound behind my back. You can spank me first if you want."

Want? Oh, yes. Clark wanted. And to get that? He'd do anything.

Lex turned and, still hand–in–hand, led him away. Wide hallway, couches with couples, some just talking, drinking, some doing more. Dress as an optional extra here. Naked skin, leather, latex, lace. Scarlet O'Hara lying back on a couch, skirts pulled high and a man kneeling, buried in the froth of pantaloons and petticoats, mouth tight around Scarlet's balls while Scarlet jerked himself off. Walking past, Clark tried not to watch, dragging his eyes away just as a door opened, and he was staring at a naked man hanging from a solid wooden frame who was being whipped by another man wearing a latex parody of a priest's robes, before the door slammed closed. Clark shivered.

"Still okay?"

Clark blinked, and nodded. "It's, er... pretty wild in here."

"Too much?"

"Well, Cherry did say it would be educational."

"So she did." Lex hesitated, pulling Clark back against a wall as two men lurched past, arm–in–arm, naked apart from wigs and makeup. "I don't want this to be a lesson too far, though."

"No! It isn't." Honest.

"We could just go home, of course."

"Lex..." Clark shrugged slightly awkwardly, one hand hesitantly stroking Lex's arm. "I want to stay. To do, whatever it is you want me to do."

Soft smile, teensy trace of amusement. "You won't have to do much, promise."

"Oh?"

"I'll do all the work. You are my guest, after all."

"Oh." God. Clark blinked and nodded. "And I get to play with you in the car after." He laughed self–consciously. "That has to be worth being shocked a few times for."

"Are you? Shocked, that is."

Clark considered. Looking into Lex's eyes and thinking about Lex spread wide, naked. What his own cock looked like when it split Lex open and made Lex cry out with pleasure. About toys, and games, and whips and shackles. All the things that they did, along with the sweetness of the afterglow. Of just being with Lex. Of laughing and teasing and happiness. Of the difference Lex had made to his life.

Was he really shocked that others did the same and more? Even if it was a lot more? Slowly he shook his head. "No, not really. A little, to begin with. I mean, it's all so on show."

"Now?"

"Lex..." Clark took Lex's hand and pressed it to his erection. "See?"

"Mmm, I do."

"Shocked, yeah, but God this is all so... hot."

Twitch of Lex's lips. "One last educational experience and we can go."

Clark bend forward and kissed Lex's cheek, just by his smiling mouth. "Good."

Backing away he let himself be led along, expectation like the sweetest torture. A different corridor, music changing. Then a door. A single door, and Lex, pushing it open, stepping inside.

It opened onto almost darkness. Three paces into the room and Clark's vision adjusted to the lack of light and his nostrils to the sweet, chemical smell that made him slightly light–headed soon as he stepped inside. Heads turning. Eyes watching. He shivered a little, reacting to the overpowering smell of sex and sweat and heated skin. Perfume like incense. Hardcore played loud enough to hurt; bass like a hand around his heart. Squeezing in time to the pump of synth and sample.

Lex turning him. Circling. Showing him the room. The men. Showing him to them. Lex the only woman. Or almost woman. Perfectly at ease in heels and glam, while the men watched.

Clark knew they were watching him too.

Lex, close. Smiling like a lover. Warmth and love and edgy desire. "I won't let anyone else touch you."

Blink. He hadn't thought of that, at all. Knew Lex didn't want to share. Wasn't at all sure what he did want. Education in small increments. Stages of desire.

"Just enjoy."

Then Lex knelt, in graceful genuflection. Such elegant submission, a perfect offering. Clark took in the image, the reality, and the power of it made him shiver. Lex. Kneeling before Clark, watched by a circle of twenty, maybe thirty men. Lex.

A hand on his groin, feeling him through cloth. Assured, knowing touch that made him close his eyes and groan. A pinch and he opened wide. Looked down. Seeing Lex, the red hair spilling around his shoulders, kneeling, mouth slightly parted, tongue teasing over the painted lips.

"Lex..."

Zipper. Snap. Cloth folding open, tugged down. Shorts too. Bare skin tingling in the warm room. His cock, long and thick and growing by the second, just there. Slowly filling, darkening as blood pumped through his veins. As the weird intensity of Lex's need caught him as well.

He looked around. Everyone was staring at his cock. He knew he was big. Knew from shower–room comparisons and side–ways glances. Knew because Lex had told him.

He saw it, too, in their eyes. Wanting him. Wanting his cock. Wanting to be where Lex was. Strange power–trip in itself. He reached out and stroked the soft red hair, pushing long tendrils behind Lex's ears, wanting to see his face. Gasping as Lex pursed his lips and blew softly on his cock–head. Teasing. His cock jerking and lifting, head darkening. Clark moved his hands to cup Lex's head. Met his eyes.

Knowledge like breathing, reactive. "Suck me."

Command, order, imperative. Even above the music he knew the room had heard. Lip–reading for beginners. Suck, fuck. Nice and simple.

Lex opened his mouth, wet his lips. Painted mouth stretched wide, swallowing him. Just the head. Suckling on the tip, lips sliding back and forth, just on the glans, teasing, so hot. Drawing back so the tip was lightly between his teeth. The sound of groans from around them. Lex tilting his head back, somehow making him look huge. Monster cock carved in thick flesh, veins feeding into the wide, open mouth, as Lex's tongue flickered, snakelike into the deep slit.

Harsh breath. Control. Lex too good. Too skilled. Proficiency beyond anything he himself had mastered.

"Suck me, just suck..." And he was simply taken.

Deep throat.

Clark watched as Lex shoved his head brutally forward, taking the solidity of cock in one shocking, wildly arousing move. Jerking, gasping out loud as his cock was swallowed, Clark locked his knees and gritted his teeth. Pleasure like fire as strong throat muscles rippled, squeezed, tightened before sliding away. Lex quickly gasping in air before he shoved himself back. Through his cock Clark felt every inch of mouth and throat and sweet Jesus it was all so seemingly impossible. So hot. Groaning as fingers clamped on his balls and pulled gently, then harder.

Closing his eyes, just for a moment. Opening them as the circle of watchers edged closer. Scarcely able to see, Clark knew some of them were jerking off. Sweet chemical smell like artificial violets, stronger stink of musk. Spunk. The music not loud enough to cover the voices urging Lex on. Urging, complimenting, commenting. Like match commentators. But each with his cock — or someone else's — planted in his fist.

And Lex. Mouth wide, lips tight to Clark's belly, then gagging slightly as he slid back. Shoved forward again and Clark moaned, cupped his hands around the pumping head. Fingers sliding into lush, soft hair. Feeling the flesh and bone of Lex under the disguise. Shuddering as long fingers shoved between his thighs. Balls like iron. Ready. So ready. No longer aware of anything but the simplicity of this need. This. And holding Lex's face still, he just fucked. Pumping his cock deep, deeper until he jerked, orgasm like a lightning bolt, shuddering through him, making him spasm into Lex's throat, watching as Lex swallowed, gasped. Eyes wide as he looked up, taking it all. Sweat on his skin. Lipstick smeared. Sucking him dry, sucking hard. Until Clark pushed him away, pleasure suddenly too close to pain.

"Lex..."

Jesus. Jesus. Cock sliding from Lex's mouth. Lex gasping, wiping his lips. Clark wavered on his feet, but somehow reached down and lifted Lex up, brought him close. Kissed him. Taste of himself. Kissing deeply, hungrily. His cock slowly softening, pressed tight to Lex's skirt, the fabric so rough on his sensitized skin, but dragging Lex still closer, wanting to consume him, to somehow say through touch alone everything he felt. Express everything Lex meant.

Clark groaned, and backed a little away. He kissed Lex's swollen lips again. And looked up. Remembered where they were. And caught the smile that teased at Lex's mouth.

Most of the men were already doing, or watching other things.

Lex rubbed up to him, for all the world like a cat. "Come on." Reaching down he tucked Clark away, zipped and snapped him up securely.

"What..." Clark cleared his throat and tried again. "What about...you."

"I'll save." Wicked smile.

Clark brought him close again, pulled tight, body to body. As he suspected. "You're rock hard. Let me do something?" He looked into Lex's eyes. Saw the dark delight in perversity. The weird kink that answered his own. "No. You want to keep like this, don't you. On the edge."

"Yes."

"Until I fuck you."

He saw the shiver. Anticipation like a drug. "God, yes."

"What if I don't let you come then?"

Slow breaths. He watched as Lex thought it through, probably to every eventuality. "Then I don't get to come."

"Lex..."

"Though I don't think you'd be actually too cruel. Would you?"

That was a question. Would he be? What was too cruel anyway? "I don't know."

"Then we'd better find out."

Imagining Lex begging. Lex out of control beyond anything they had done before. "God..."

"No, this is sex. Much better."

Clark couldn't argue. "Can we leave now?"

"Yes. I'll leave a message for Cherry." Lex smiled, wiping his fingers over his lipstick smeared mouth. "And tidy up, then we can go."

They were both abandoning other friends tonight. Clark followed Lex out of the small room, and out into the corridor. Brighter lights, more air. He kissed Lex again, softly. Friends as much as anything else. Friends and lovers and more complexity than he had ever imagined.

And he got to fuck Lex. Tonight.

There was nothing more he could ask for.

BLOOD SPORTS: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX