Summary: This was formerly known as the "Mean Lexana Snippet." And that pretty well sums it up.Cheap substituion, sublimation, frustration, nobody can get what they want, even a fairy princess.
Warnings: Rated NC-17. Lex/Lana. General meanness.
Lana can't hear what they're talking about. But she can see that they're only pretending to have a friendly conversation. They do that so much these days it's getting difficult to remember when the smiles were genuine. Lex has that hard glint in his eyes, leaning into Clark's space at an aggressive angle. Clark's expression is mildly stunned, as if he is being subjected to constant, low-level electrical shock.
The boy just can't handle questions, Lana thinks. He goes all deer-eyed even when she's the one doing the asking. Never mind when it's Lex.
Clark squirms out of his chair, beats a hasty retreat. Lex, always strategic, changes tactics. Glides after Clark the way a star dancer might move across the stage. Or a viper slither after its victim. His expression is both calculating and conciliatory.
"I hear Lana is stabling her horse at your house," he says.
"Yeah. He's really important to her. And she didn't have anywhere else to keep him."
"Funny. I offered her the use of the stables at the mansion. No charge. She turned me down. I guess she had her sights set elsewhere."
Clark's face brightens, and Lana gets that familiar little flutter in the pit of her stomach. She knows where it leads when Lex talks about her to Clark. She hurries back to the office and waits.
After a while, Lex joins her.
The first time was subtle, slow. It started so innocently she never had a chance to think why it might not be a good idea, his hand on her shoulder as he leaned in to look at the books, the brush of his sleeve across her breasts as he turned the pages of the ledger, his thigh pressed against hers as he reached for the whiteout. Each touch led inevitably to the next, until she was half draped across his lap, his tongue in her mouth, until she was spread out on the desk, losing her virginity on a stack of purchase orders.
It's never been like that again.
Now Lex is always impatient. He doesn't bother with formalities, like saying hello, just puts his hand under her skirt, slides his fingers up her thigh, between her legs. She's stopped wearing underwear to work, just for occasions like this.
He slips his fingers inside her. She's ready, and that makes him smile. She'd like to tell him that she's been wet since he got to the Talon, since she first heard his voice. That she's been excited all afternoon just thinking that he might stop by.
But she hates the sarcastic smirk he gets when she says things like that. She stays quiet. Lets him do whatever he wants. She always does. That's the real reason she wouldn't keep her horse at his stable. She's afraid what she might let him do if he ever got her completely alone.
He takes a condom out of the desk drawer where they keep them much to Lana's embarrassment and rolls it on. Pushes up her skirt, lifts her and presses her back against the wall. She instinctively wraps her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. He pushes inside her with one hard thrust, and she gasps out loud.
She always makes too much noise. She can't help it. The waitresses give her snide looks, and she's pretty sure they know. God. Anybody could. Lex won't touch her unless the door's unlocked. He likes to live dangerously. Or maybe he just hopes Clark will walk in on them some day.
Because that's who he's really fucking. Lana isn't some airheaded cheerleader, no matter what anybody thinks. None of them can have what they actually want--not her or Lex or Clark. But Lex can have the object of his object. And she can have Lex's cock. When he's fucking her, that seems like enough.
He moves faster, and she bucks up into every thrust, rubbing against him, whimpering.
"Say it." His voice a low growl in her ear.
He likes to make her talk. Sometimes about herself, how she thinks about him when she touches herself, the dirty, wrong things she imagines him doing to her. Sometimes, though, he wants to hear other things. It's what he wants now. She can always tell. She closes her eyes. She doesn't want to say it, but she will. She will.
This is why she never goes to see him at the mansion. She would do anything for him. She knows she would. Suck him off in the middle of the stables wearing nothing but her riding boots. Whatever he asked for, whatever it might cost her.
She wouldn't have guessed she'd enjoy humiliation this much, although it's no surprise that Lex likes to dole it out. A part of him hates her, she knows. Because she can have Clark and doesn't want him. Because no matter how many times he fucks her, she still won't be the green-eyed boy of his dreams.
"Say it." More commanding, more urgent.
"Clark," she whispers.
"Like you mean it."
He reaches between their bodies and strokes her clitoris. Colored lights flash behind her closed eyes. Hot pleasure sparkles up her spine.
"Clark," she moans. "God, Clark. Fuck me. Please, fuck me. Clark."
"Yeah, yeah," he says, his breath coming hard and fast.
Breathy and desperate, just the way he likes it, and she gets her reward, his fingers, moving, wiggling, doing that indescribable thing that makes her eyes roll back in her head. He grunts and lifts her up higher. He's very close, but she's closer. She tightens her legs around him so hard she must be cutting off his breath, but she doesn't care. Her head bangs against the wall, and she's coming, blindingly. And then he is, shoving wildly inside her, as if he wants to fuck her right through the plaster.
Afterwards, he takes a moment to catch his breath, and then he's putting her down. Zipping up. Smoothing away the wrinkles her scrabbling fingers left on his shirt. This is the part she hates. When he goes back to being impervious. When he gets that sardonic smile on his face.
"See you next time."
He saunters out of the office, and she sits down heavily at the desk. She's not going to do this anymore. She can't. She really means it this time. Maybe she could leave Smallville, go live with Nell in Metropolis. Or find a way to buy Lex out of the Talon. Maybe even tell Clark.
Or maybe. Just maybe. She'll find a way to make him forget someday, make him love her instead.
Maybe. That's what she always tells herself.