Summary: Lex has only one thrill left in his fast-lane life. And it's driving Clark crazy.
Warnings: Rated NC-17. m/m, spanking
The problem with being a billionaire's son was that life moved so fast. While other kids had been listening to bedtime stories about anthropomorphized bears, Lex had been treated to long lectures on the relationship between risk and return on investment. At an age when others were fumbling around for their first kiss, Lex was busy juggling an action-packed sexual calendar. Fast cars, fast women, narrow escapes from certain death...Lex had experienced it all before he was even out of his teens. Thirty might still be young, but when it came to the usual thrills in life, he'd already been there, done that, turned his nose up at the cheap, cotton-blend T-shirt.
Provoking Clark was pretty much the only excitement he had left.
Unfortunately, in his guise as Superman, Clark was fairly unflappable. Lex's scheme to gain control of the global marketplace by spreading a computer virus through the mainframe systems of stock exchanges around the world elicited little more than a heavy sigh. His brilliant plan--if he did say so himself--to develop a new diet soda that not only tasted great but had a hypnotic effect on consumers making them eager to buy, buy, buy got him only a stern talking-to. When he buried devices in the polar icecaps to melt them and then offered to refreeze them for a hefty price, Clark--gasp!--went so far as to actually point a righteous finger and tell him to stop. No matter what Lex did, Clark persisted in believing he was only misguided or misunderstood or temporarily insane, some excuse why it couldn't possibly be his fault, which was really rather vexing.
He'd almost given up hope of ever getting under Clark's skin when a humdrum evening at yet another charity event gave him insight into what he'd been doing wrong.
He was making the usual conversation with the usual people, working the room, when Alton Aldemeyer came sashaying over and crowded uncomfortably close, as he was wont to do.
"How's business these days?"
"Do you really want to hear about it?"
"Not especially." Alton smiled and moved even closer. "I'd much rather talk about how scrumptious you're looking tonight."
"Like something that should be covered in whipped cream and eaten up with a spoon..."
"We've been through this before."
"...and licked all over until you're perfectly clean." Alton made a rather lewd display with his tongue.
"That's never going to happen. So spare me the food analogies."
Not that Lex wasn't multi-dimensional when it came to sex, but Alton Aldemeyer was a skank, even by the lax standards of Metropolis high society.
"Ah, well." Alton let out a dramatic sigh. "Your loss." He darted a quick kiss to Lex's cheek, one of the few people in town reckless or brave enough to dare such an incursion into Lex's personal space. "See you around." He winked saucily and sauntered away.
It was a great stroke of luck that Lex happened to be looking in just the right direction at just that moment. He caught sight of Clark, who often got roped into covering these yawn fests for the Planet, standing near the buffet, glaring at Lex with a far darker scowl on his face than he'd worn when one of Lex's researchers had gone mad, stolen the prototype shrink ray LexCorp had been working on and made a molehill out of Mt. Rushmore. It took Lex a moment to put A and B together to get a wholly unexpected C, but when he did, the light went on in his devious brain. At long last, he had a way to bait Clark, and it was going to be even more fun than building an army of rampaging robotic mice.
Lex spent the rest of the evening bypassing ladies eager for his attention in favor of the best looking men in the room. Some of them were gay, some straight, some big question marks, but when Lex flashed his bedroom eyes, none of them seemed to mind if he let his hand linger on their shoulder longer than was strictly manly or leaned in a little too close to whisper in their ear.
Clark's face turned redder with each successive flirtation. By the end of the evening, he was downright scarlet. If it were anyone else, Lex would have worried he was on the verge of a stroke.
A master of timing, Lex waited until Clark was almost ready to storm out of the ballroom in a snit before drifting over to speak to him.
"Clark, I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to come talk to you earlier."
Clark glowered at him. "I guess you were just too busy with all those other guys."
Lex smiled brightly. "So many interesting men. So little time."
"Is that why you're trying to fit them all into one evening?" For someone usually so sunny, Clark sounded downright sullen.
"It never hurts to be friendly."
"If you get any friendlier, you'll be under one of these tables having sex with the busboy," Clark said under his breath.
"I said I really have to go."
Lex clapped him on the back. "Enjoy your evening, Clark." He swept off to his next conquest before his triumphant smirk could give him away.
Over the next few weeks, Lex dated a swath through the male population of Metropolis. The town's eligible bachelors hadn't been so giddy with excitement since there was talk of a possible reality series, "America's Playboy: Metropolis."
Lex squired Bernard Svensson, the dashing young heir to the Swedish cosmetics fortune, to the opening of a show of male nudes at the Museum of Modern Art. In the limo afterwards, Bernard demonstrated his considerable appreciation for the male form.
Another evening, Lex wined and dined Jason Davies, a charismatic professor of history at Metropolis University, controversial for his vocal insistence that most of the great men throughout the ages had actually been gay. They argued good-naturedly about Greek history over their entrees, and later during the fun and games in bed, tussled playfully over who would be the master and who the eager-to-please slave boy.
Metropolis seemed to have a nearly inexhaustible store of sexy young men eager to be seen in public with the city's most prominent citizen. There were blondes and brunettes and redheads. Lex took them to dinner and ballgames and on long walks in the park. With some, he recited romantic poetry. With others, he just had sticky sex. But every time, no matter where he was, what he was doing, or who he was with, he could feel the prickle on the back of his neck that told him someone was misusing his super powers to spy on him.
It was the most devilishly good time Lex had had since he'd bought out LuthorCorp and sent Lionel packing to the South of France.
Of course, he wondered when--if--Clark would actually get around to doing something about his shenanigans. He imagined Clark pulling him aside for a serious friend-to-friend talk, telling him with a strained look on his face that Lex was developing something of a reputation. Or possibly just losing his temper and yelling: "What the hell are you trying to do? Fuck everyone in town who happens to have a dick?"
Lex could only hope there would be cursing. Hearing Clark say "fuck" always felt like a victory.
What he didn't expect, however, was to come to work bright and early one Monday morning to find Superman skulking around his office.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, mentally going through a list of possible wrongdoing.
He hadn't blown up anything lately. Or cloned anything. No lying on his taxes or spying on his competitors, at least no more than usual. Come to think of it, he hadn't done a single despicable thing lately that would have landed him on Superman's bad side.
Superman didn't seem to care that Lex had been a veritable Boy Scout (discounting his sexual exploits, of course) in recent weeks. He grabbed him by the arm without a word of explanation and dragged him over to his desk.
"What do you think you're doing--"
His master-and-commander tone ended in a squeak when Superman yanked his belt off, pulled his pants down to his knees and pushed him over the glass tabletop, his bare ass high in the air.
The first crack of Superman's open hand against his butt echoed loudly off the walls, and Lex had to bite his lip hard to keep from screaming. The door was unlocked, and if he yelled, someone would certainly come running. The last thing he needed was for one of his employees to see Superman punishing him like a naughty schoolboy. But it hurt--damn it!--and it was making him hard despite his best attempts to find it completely unerotic.
"I could handle your sleazy business dealings," Superman said, spanking him soundly, causing his leaking cock to rub against a stack of important contracts waiting to be signed. "And your questionable scientific research. And your half-baked schemes for world domination." He punctuated each word with a sharp slap to Lex's ass. "But I will not stand for you carrying on like a slut with every horny piece of Eurotrash in this city. When you need to be fucked, I will fuck you. I'll fuck you until you cry and beg and can't remember anything but me, not even your own damned name."
With that, Lex shot all over his contracts. The printing office would have to send up a whole new set of documents. But who could blame him? If you didn't come when the world's most powerful being claimed you as his personal fucktoy, when were you going to come?
Superman helped him up, steadied him on his feet--Lex was still a bit weak in the knees from his orgasm--and pulled his pants back up. Lex hissed through his teeth when the fabric slid over his hot, stinging ass.
He was just about to complain when Superman framed his face in his hands and kissed him with surprising gentleness. "You don't need them. I'll do anything you want. And I'm capable of things you've never even imagined." He sucked at the little triangle of skin bared by Lex's collar, leaving a mark that Lex's underlings would no doubt snicker about the rest of the day. "And you belong to me. So don't forget it." The sharp edge of teeth against Lex's throat made it clear he wasn't kidding.
Lex had never found other people's possessiveness remotely interesting, but then again, no one else who'd ever tried to colonize him had been superhumanly sexy. "All yours. Got it."
"Good," Superman said with just a trace of smugness and kissed Lex again. "I have to go." He moved toward the open window.
"Oh, Clark, before you rush off..."
The trapped animal look on Superman's face made Lex want to laugh. As if he hadn't figured it out the first time he saw a flash of blue lycra up in the sky. As if there were anyone else in the entire universe he'd allow to bend him over his own desk.
Clark swallowed hard and let the Superman facade drop. "Yeah, Lex?"
"What are you doing tonight?" he asked in his caramel-coated voice. "The penthouse has a nice wide balcony, you know. Very convenient for landing." Lex smiled like a dirty promise. "And I think I'm going to need to avail myself of your services."
Clark licked his lips as if his mouth had suddenly gone dry. "I can come by after I finish patrolling. If you want."
"I'll be expecting you." Clark was just about to take off when he added, "You may need to make the penthouse a regular stop on your route."
The rather maniacal look of lust on Clark's face as he flew away was something Lex would enjoy for a long, long time to come.
He went back to his desk and settled as gingerly as he could onto his chair. Despite his carefulness, he still gasped out loud when his abused cheeks came to rest on the padded leather seat. He wasn't certain how long he'd survive Clark's nightly visits, not if super cock was anything like he imagined it to be. But at least he could be sure that this one particular adventure would last a lifetime.