I hate when I’m writing on mobile and tumblr doesn’t fucking auto save like it does on the computer because I lose fucking EVERYTHING I edited if this bitch little app decides to no save and now I’m looking at that little ficlet I was working on but the flow is not there anymore
It was fitting, truly. That the universe would answer him so quickly when the thought of kissing Lex’s memories away and starting over, now older, wiser and a better liar, took root on his mind.
He could keep his secret better than he could at fifteen, he thought to himself, with more people covering for him when the time for excuses came.
He could eat his cake and have it too.
Become Clark and Lex again without compromising his secrets. A safety precaution for both of them, he told himself.
But the universe had to show him not even a week after the thought had solidified into his mind how cruel of an idea that would be.
————————————————————
Landing into another reality was nothing new. Barry had the incredible ability of running, tripping and falling face first into a different one at least once every three years.
Flying around above the clouds looking for the speedster in this seemingly identical world as his own, he found himself earlier than any other time this has ever happened to him. Normally he was the one that was found by his counterpart in any given dimension not the other way around.
Normally that was because the other dimensions Supermen could pinpoint almost immediately the sudden appearance of an identical heart beat to their own.
But as he landed near the other man he could not fault this Superman for missing this change in the status quo.
The cemetery was pristine. Well kept, richly forested. He could have mistaken it for a park if not for the angel statues, mausoleums and gravestones.
His counterpart was dressed as Clark Kent, kneeling in front of a beautifully carved white gravestone surrounded by lilies and sunflowers. His forehead was pressed against the stone, his large shoulders hiding away the name of the one he was mourning as if he wanted to hide them away from the eyes of the world.
Clark himself didn’t recognize this particular cemetery but the aching in his heart came nonetheless. Who did he lose? His heart asked. Will it happen to me as well?
He walked closer, to the left. There was no way the other him hadn’t noticed his presence by now.
He swears he was going to introduce himself, he swears! But as soon as he got a glimpse of that first name carved accusingly into that pale white stone the words left his mouth without his say so:
“Your Lex is dead?” He covered his mouth with both hands. As caring as a bull in a china shop. Guilty coated his entire mouth when the other man turned around, his eyes bloodshot and vacant, his face blotted from crying and his hands shaking.
“Yours is still alive?” And there was hope on that voice, and his guilt got worse.
The other man jumped to his feet, both hands grabbing him by the shoulders, shaking him slightly with eyes wide and pleading.
“Oh, please. Please tell me how he is doing. Is he sleeping well? Eating regularly? Is he playing the piano? Trying to write a song again? You know how he is when he loses himself into a project and—”
“Wow, wow, wow, Why would I know ANY of that?”
Then he got a full glimpse of the grave and his entire world fell apart.
Alexander Kent. Beloved fiancee, faithful friend.
“… you married him?”
And the other man’s face fell. “No. We never got the chance.” He let go of his shoulders. “You didn’t?”
“… no. Never got the chance.” He swallowed the lump on his throat. That didn’t feel like a lie. “What happened?”
A sneer full to the brim with scorn and distaste filled his face. “Our secret. That’s what happened.”
He sat back down, facing the grave with the contingency of a man who wanted to crawl under the earth and stay there. “I thought I was being so smart. Lex, back from the island, fresh from Belle Reve.” He caressed the letters like one would the cheek of a lover, regret so potent framing his entire face that it was almost palpable.
“All that stuff about hallucinations, psychosis, psychiatrists. It gave me an idea.”
Clark sat down besides his other, looking at his face with a look he was sure reflected nothing but worry. He never saw a version of himself look so… defeated.
“It took some time to find a psychiatrist who wasn’t susceptible to Lionel’s power and influence, you know. This is how I met Bruce actually. You know him, right?” Clark nodded. He didn’t dare speak right now. This world’s Clark looked like he was confessing a crime long past that had been corroding him for years and now that the ball was rolling it would not stop until he was done. “The psychiatrist, Dr. Jane Simons, was working under the Martha Wayne Medical Center and as such was under Lee Thompson’s supervision and in Bruce’s payroll… when everything went to shit, Bruce was the one to pull that bandaid off… and kick me in the gut for it.” He ran his hand through his hair, messing it even further. “I deserved that. He should have kicked me more.”
“But… what was so bad in finding a psychiatrist for Lex? God knows that after everything his father put him through he would need one.”
“But that wasn’t the reason I found her!!” The man exclaimed, careful still in his anger to hit the ground beside him.
The grave remained intact.
The anger that coated his face went as fast as it had come, the man wilting right in front of his eyes. “At least not the main one.”
A sigh, broken and numb. “Right after I had her number and Bruce’s help in keeping Lionel as out of it as his billions and influence could allow… I waited for the next time Lex brought up my secret.”
And a bucket of ice water fell right over his heart. He looked at the grave once again, the realization doing the impossible and stealing his breath away.
“You told him he was hallucinating your powers.”
“I was so convincing too.” The other Clark sobbed. “I poured all my existing worries on that performance. I waged that I had to be truthful in some way or he would see right through me.”
He leaned forward once again, his forehead pressing to the stone with enough force Clark was half afraid it would crack in half.
“I held his hands, I hugged him and told him I was so scared of what he was seeing.” He closed his eyes, reliving that memory once more. “I told him to trust me, that unlike his father I was truly looking out for him.” The laugh that escaped him was full of derision. “Why did I say that? Look, love, how well I have looked after you and your well being! Didn’t I do a wonderful job?!?”
Clark could feel his own heart breaking, the loss stabbing him as forcefully as kryptonite to the chest as the other Clark held the grave with both hands.
Whispering apologies.
“…what happened?” He asked, one hand lying over the grieving man’s hunched back.
Said man swallowed his tears, his mouth opening once, twice.
He found his strength back at the third time.
“The years passed. I got better at hiding and everything that slipped was explained away by a faltering of the mind. He would just book another trip to Gotham and come back reassured that the laws of physics were still there and that I didn’t outran a car that was a hair breath away from hitting me.”
“And the… fiancee part?”
“We got close. There was always something going on between us. This pull between him and me.” The sob that left his throat this time was gutted, painful. “Our relationship was going to be the stuff of legend, wasn’t it?”
That sucker punched him like nothing else ever did. He gripped the suit jacket under his fingers with enough force to tear, his face lowered as his breath hitched.
The other Clark kept going, unaware or uncaring of his ripped suit. “So when I finished MetU, we went on a date. That date became a second date, that became a third, a fourth, an uncountable amount until three whole years had passed. Three years of laughter, of love, of dancing and fencing and traveling.” A deep breath. “Three years of hiding, of lying, of omitting.”
He laid his left hand over the Lex in the Alexander carved on the stone, a ring shining under the meager sunlight that could breach the gaps of the hunching body above it.
“When I bought that engagement ring it was the by far the cheapest thing in Lex’s entire wardrobe but it was the piece he treasured the most.” The other Clark clamped his eyes shut, his heart heavy. “He refused to part from it, even at the end.”
He hid his face behind his hands, elbows resting on his knees. A man in ruins, the weight of his actions suffocating.
"Things were going so well between the two of us. He knew me practically inside and out. Well, except for..." He swallowed forcefully, like there was barbed wire slicing down his throat. The truth still refusing to come plainly from him and Clark could feel, almost like a physical sensation, the shame that caused his counterpart. “And, slowly, I decided to stop hiding.”
“You told him?” Clark said in disbelief. And shame hit him immediately for it.
Was this the kind of man he had grown into? Someone who couldn’t even fathom telling his own fiancee about himself???
“HA! That’s what a normal person would have done, right? Come clean? Faced the music? Taken the fury and the accusations and the heartbreak like a fucking grow ass adult and tried to piece it all back together and pray that he would still be willing to stand by my side at the end off it??” The hands fell away to reveal a face hollowed by heartbreak and deep, all consuming, self loathing. “I’m a coward, Clark. I have always been a fucking coward, specially concerning Lex. I didn’t say anything. I just… stoped hiding.”
“Because Lex is smart, and if you two were already living together he would piece it all together eventually.” Clark deduced. It would have been what he would have done.
“That was my thought too. And for a little while I thought that was what was happening. That it was working and any day he would ask me about it and I could come clean.” He gripped the fabric of his knees, his eyes too blurry by the tears flooding them to truly see the damage he was causing to the dress pants. “What a hero I turned out to be. Shoving the burden of reveling my secrets on already fragile shoulders.”
Clark held the crying man in a poor excuse for a hug, letting him speak his truth, unburdening himself of the guilt eating him alive.
How long have you been keeping this confession to yourself? Clark thought. For you to spill it out so violently on the lap of what amounts to a complete stranger?
“You know, I would save him as Superman from all sorts of kidnapping attempts, hostage situations, all the dangers a young billionaire can face and I would cheekily joke and flirt with him and he would pout oh so pretty and turn his nose up and joke righ back at me but then tell me he was a very committed man who had a fiancee already and I would laugh and tell him how lucky Clark Kent was to have such loyal future husband and…”
Clark pressed his eyes shut. “And he wasn’t joking along, was he?”
The other Clark laid his head on his shoulder, a scream deep and harrowing muffled by the fabric of his uniform.
10, 20, 30 minutes of screaming non stop. Thanks to the fabric and the shoulder attached to it, no one but Clark heard it.
No glass in 1000 mile radius exploded.
A scream hidden away under lock and key, growing and festering every day and night, finally loose.
He ran his hands on his counterpart’s curls as the scream dissolved away into whimpers, the tears staining the crest on his chest. He knew, as the body under his hands quivered as if it was a wrong touch away from turning into dust, that wasn’t the end of the tale. The confession was still far from the end.
“One day both of us were kidnapped. Ransom or something like that I can’t remember…” He burrowed further into his embrace, Clark Kent’s hands tangled deep into the fabric of Superman’s cape begging for support. Any support, so he would not drift away into a cavern full of meteorites and stay there forever. “They got us in our sleep, fallen over my sofa with our work all around us... one of the men had kryptonite with him so I was useless for most of the night.”
Clark hold on his counterpart's curls deepened. They were dirty, unkept. He could wager he hadn't properly washed them during an entire week. Looking at the date at the grave with the corner of his eye, the reason became apparent immediately.
Today was Sunday. One year ago from today this world's Lex left the realm of the living.
This Clark had been deteriorating with grief since last Monday.
“But then he left the warehouse. Me and Lex were tied to chairs facing each other and my strength was coming back.” His breath hitched, a wail stuck in his throat. “There was a man with a gun to my head and Lex was so afraid.”
And a horrible image formed in Clark's mind. Please, Rao, don't be what I think it is.
“He tried to bargain with everything he had: money, cars, medical assistance, his own life, his own body and I… I didn’t understand why he was so freaked out. At the time I thought he believed there was still some kryptonite on the building but when I told him everything was all right he started to cry…”
A invisible hand came and squeezed his heart like a vice. He could envision it clearly: Lex tied up, he had seen that before, but now his face was tear stricken and consumed by distress. This was a Lex who was in a relationship with Clark. Loved Clark. So he imagined... that his face was open. Vulnerable.
When was the last time his own Lex had been open with him?
When was the last time HE allowed his Lex to be open with him?
Their bridge didn't burn from only one end.
“He started screaming for Superman to help us. The kidnappers started to laugh. The warehouse was completely lead covered, you see. How the fuck they knew to do that I will never know and god how it haunts me seeing Lex face fall when they told him that. But he kept on screaming for Superman and I thought—” a heart wrenching wail. “I thought it was a distraction. That he was taking their attention away from me. That if they had kryptonite and knew about the lead what more could they know, what more harm could they do if they figured out that Superman was actually seated right there in the room with them.”
And them came the anger. The resentment. “It was five men. Five, greedy, disgusting little men. A rifle each. One with a pistol to my forehead. That man was getting anxious with the screaming, I could hear it on his heart. He pressed the gun further into my flesh, shouting at Lex for him to shut up. Shut up or he would open a hole on my brain right there.”
He held his breath. The dread creeping further and further into his lungs. Please, PLEASE, don't be what I think it is. Don't tell me he had to watch...
“I kept telling Lex everything was going to be alright, that help was on the way which only pissed that fucker with the pistol even more.” Clark knew, even if he could not see clearly as the other Clark’s forehead was pressed firmly on his shoulder, but the other man's eyes were wide open. Reliving that day all over again. “Lex was hyperventilating, his heart a hare-rabbit on his chest. He stop calling for Superman. You know what he started calling for?”
And sadistically, to himself and to Clark alike, he replicated Lex voice.
Distressed. Fearful.
“Please, not him. Not my Clark, please! Take me instead, please!!!”
Because he didn’t know. And, looking at the haunted eyes of the hunched man, he had realized it too. Clark closed his eyes, the gut wrenching image of Lex with a bullet between his eyes making him sick. All that lying, all that hiding, and it amounted to nothing. Lex was hurt anyway and this Clark had to see it unable of doing NOTHIN–
“The penny didn’t even had time to drop properly before I felt the bullet hit the side of my head and ricochet back into the gunman’s neck."
... what?
The other Clark kept talking, unaware of the now frozen man he was clinging too. "I got up quickly, dispatched the other four in less than a blink, but when I turned to take Lex out of his restraints…” a whimper, a shaking hand gripping his own hair like he would take chunks off in one pull. “God, Clark, he was hysteric.”
And the world broke apart around him.
Oh.
He didn't think of that.
God, WHY didn't he think of that?
“He kept screaming and crying and violently sobbing. ‘My Clark, my Clark! Please not my Clark.’ I was right in front of him and he could not see me! I opened up, I changed into the uniform under my clothes, I told him everything, I showed him all my powers right then and there and he could not hear me. The tears kept falling, he kept yelling, but he could not see me.”
Because after telling a man so many times to not look, how long would it take, really, for him to go completely blind?
Clark felt sick.
Wasn't he planing to do just that? Kiss away his own Lex's memories? His Lex, who he knew was trying his model best to regain the memories he lost? How he justified it to himself again? Eat his cake and have it too, wasn't it? Safety measures for both him and me! And, worse of all, use his family and friends as accomplices on the lie.
In no moment had he asked himself what that would do to Lex in the long run. Lex, who he knew had a documented history of mental problems, trust issues up the wazoo, and Rao knows how many other traumas he repressed inside that little lead box inside his head.
Lex didn't have any friends. If he went along with the kiss, Lex's new social circle would be filled with the Justice League, Clark's friends, Clark's coworkers, Clark's... everything.
... and all of them, willing or unknowingly, would be part of Clark's lie.
He planned as such.
An echo chamber of lies and deceit, that would separate Clark Kent and Superman from ever being the same man in Lex's eyes.
Jesus Christ, what the fuck was he thinking? Was he even thinking at all???
What if he decided to stop hiding, hum? What them??? He knew himself, he would have done exactly as this Clark did: just stoped pretending one day and waited for Lex to piece together the puzzle himself. And where would that have lead them? What kind of relationship was he hoping to build back by lying to such a degree to Lex again?
He tried to put himself into Lex's shoes if he had gone ahead with his plan. He imagine seeing things that everyone around him denied ever happened. Strange gaps in his memory he could not explain.
He imagine one day everyone suddenly seeing it too and, worst of all, they have been seeing it all along, it was always like this where have you been, Lex?
Clark asked himself if he would truly be so cruel to instruct his friends and family to act like the memory erasing never happened.
The fact that the answer was not an immediate "No" made him want to vomit.
What exactly he thought Lex reaction would be if he learned everyone on his new social circle (Chloe, Lois, Arthur, Victor, Barry, fucking Oliver) knew and Clark specifically kept it from Him?
He wasn't like that with other people. He search around his memories, analyzed all his interactions with others and he NEVER been this whiling to completely destroy someones sense of reality...
Except Lex.
Rao, what kind of monster had he turned into?
Unaware of his counterpart's turmoil, the other Clark kept going, Lex's voice escaping his mouth like a spirit he refused to exorcise. “When the rest of the League and the authorities arrived he had cried himself to exhaustion. He was stuck in a loop, a muttered chant that haunts and hurts me to this day. ‘They killed my fiancee. My Clark is dead’. Over and over and over. ‘My Clark is dead, My Clark is dead, My Clark is dead!’.”
Each phrase, soaked in distress, repeated in Lex's own voice, was followed by a punch to Clark's chest, the other man's distress taken form in violence (that Clark would take 100 times and more. For the plan he was now burning inside his mind, for the years of lies and unfound accusations. For his part in pushing Lex beyond that cliff of evil Lionel personally created for him. He deserved this tear stained violence).
Swallowing the bile on his tongue, Clark asked the obvious. “He had never figured out, had he?”
“No, he hadn’t!” The laugh was hollow, verging on deranged. “I trained him too well.” The smile on his face was broken and uncanny, incongruous with the tears running down his face. “I trained him too well in ignoring what his eyes were seeing. Every overt display of powers were swiftly dismissed as another delusion. Every glimpse of the uniform brushed away as mistake or a dream. Dr. Simons even told me l-later— she even t-to-told me later that he had come to her to talk a-about all those sightings and-and they had come to the— god — they had come to the conclusion that his mind was associating me and Superman because just as Superman saved others every day I had saved him too.”
And wasn't that the worst part? Because for this Lex, as far as he was concerned, why would Clark, his long time best friend, his fiancee, someone who loved him above all, who cared for his health, for his happiness, defended him from the judgement of others and from his father's cruelty, ever lie to him?
If Clark was any other man he would have had to strain his ears to hear the next part of his other's confession. Being the man that he was, that murmur sounded like a gunshot in the dark. “When Bruce came to kick my teeth in it was with Lex’s medical record under his arm. I had successfully pushed my own fiancee into psychosis.”
Lex trusted him into insanity.
“The last time I saw Lex alive he was in a mental care facility. From what Bruce would tell me he truly believed the bullet had killed me. That when Superman appeared in front of him not a second later speaking absolute nonsense about being Clark Kent it was his mind denying the reality right in front of him. That Superman had only arrived a second late to save his fiancee and his unwell mind started putting words on the blue scout’s lips. After all we looked so alike.” And the scorn on his voice could have melted paint. Clark didn't even need to be told that was another falsehood fed to this Lex. Not a lie, but not the truth.
Just another gentle push towards the cliff.
Clark looked away from the cautionary tale weeping on his arms. Doing so he caught the glimmer of a plastic badge careless throw over a suitcase not that far away from them.
Clark J. Kent. Daily Planet's Journalist.
The badge was even up to date.
“How is Clark Kent still alive if—”
“If his fiancee was screaming himself hoarse that he was dead to anyone to hear and the authorities arrived into a room with only him and Superman?” And those hollow eyes laid heavy on his own. Clark’s heart hitched. “I did what I have always done, Clark. I lied.”
The other Clark left his arms. Legs crisscrossed underneath him, he glared directly into his eyes. The was an emptiness in that gaze, a burden had been carved out of his chest.
Unfortunately, Clark doubted its absence would ever bring any relief.
In his best journalist voice, the other Clark told him: “Clark Kent was simply locked away in an adjacent room, his screams very audible to the tied up billionaire. The criminals had forged his torture and execution in the hopes of breaking the young Luthor enough so they could get bank account information or whatever they actually wanted… everyone and their mothers knew about Lex’s frail mental health. Was it such a leap to believe he had snapped on sound alone?”
The wind didn't even have the decency to apear and drown the silence that fell around them.
The other Clark turned back to the grave. Taking his wallet from the inner pocket of his suit, he took a picture– well cared, deeply cherished –from one of its compartments. Unfolding it twice, he gently placed it against the stone.
Lex, inside a ballon basket, this Clark's hand on his cheek, thousand of meters from the ground, smiling radiant.
Do you believe a man can fly, Clark?
“How did he…” die? How did I you kill him?
“I visited him, at the facility. Everyday. I brought him some of my clothes, Clark’s clothes, me and Mom and Chloe. My blankets, my books, my college hoodie. All of us keeping this monstrous charade alive because the point of no return was passed 10 years ago and now my Lex was grieving alone inside a padded room a man who was still alive.” The man bite down on his cuticles. The sight made Clark want to take his hands far way from his mouth, especially when the blood started to run. “He didn’t even notice me talking the clothes back and using them so my scent would never fade. I saw his distress when the scent had vanished from the hoodie after many months of use. Like he was lo-losi— like he was losing me all over again.”
Following his instincts, Clark took the other man's hands in his when he started to take way too big chunks of his thumb. The other Clark didn't even seen to notice.
The nails started to heal immediately under the sun.
“At first I mostly came as Clark but he didn’t interact with me much. The doctors advised against speaking with the hallucinations and I—” was one of them. Left unsaid, but heard nonetheless. “—so I came as Superman. He never blamed me. He told me himself. ‘You may be Super but you are just one man. And I know how such good friends you and Clark were. I know you share this pain with me’ and he would hold my hand and cry in my arms and I had to lie to him once again and let him believe my tears where for the death of a man who didn’t even FUCKING DIE AND WAS STANDING RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF HIM.” And all the energy of that final shout crumbled away in the breeze, defeat making a hollow carcass out of him. "My final straw was when they tried to take his engagement ring away... they had to sedate him. Screamed himself horse, he did. ‘PLEASE, IT'S ALL THAT I HAVE OF HIM! PLEASE, MY CLARK GAVE IT TO ME, YOU CAN'T TAKE IT, PLEASE!!!’... it-it it w-was a meltdown so severe he had to be restrained by five men of the staff. They decide to let him keep the ring. Later, when woke up from the sedative, the doctors f-fou-found him talking to the– to the air, to Clark, talking about–" a painful sob. It was a miracle he was still coherent in his grief. "About preparations for the wedding and I could not BEAR IT ANY LONGER!
...So I didn't visite for three days... a-and it was all it took."
Clark felt his heart fall all the way down, beyond the crust, all the way to the core of the planet.
“Wh-when he— when he ki— when he killed hims—” he hit his thigh one, two, three times. Strong enough to bruise, strong enough to break. “When he killed himself the staff found him hugged to a pillow wearing one of my flannels, his head where my chest should be… the note they found just said ‘Joining my Clark again’.” And the man trembled. His tears copious and his throat closed off. His next words were barely understandable and he had many false starts. But the tale was at the end and he had confessed so much so far. He soldiered on. “He had stolen morphine from the facility’s pharmacy. Ju-just enough to kill him! And it was so meticulously planned too. He had memorized the guards routines, the pharmacist habits and organization quirks. He found the cameras blind points and exploited them masterly. All of that in less than three days.”
A twisted forme of pride filled his heart. Disconnected from reality and yet... “The smartest person we know.”
“H-he was.” Taking his hand way from his grasp, the other Clark reached out to the grave, his hand gently touching the Kent carved there. “I asked for the name change. Buried him as a Kent. Gave him the family he craved so much even if just in death.”
And as the last wound on the other's Clark's hands healed, one thing became obvious to Clark himself. “… you think of joining him.”
There was no hesitation. “Everyday. To ask for his forgiveness face to face. Hold him in my arms one more time.” A moment of clarity took hold of his eyes. Once again face to face with Clark, this mirror of himself grasped his hands hard enough to bruise. “If your Lex still lives, cherish him with all you have.”
“I don’t think he wants that from me. Not after everything.” Clark dismissed immediately. Not after he planned to take away Lex's reality like it was a party trick.
“Clark, you are his sun. He orbits you from the moment he saw you and is just waiting for you to acknowledge him.”
“Things are different where I’m from! It’s more complicated then just telling him everything—”
“Then uncomplicate it.” The other Clark gripped him by the face with enough force to break his jaw. Eyes wide and deranged and one gentle push away from madness and suddenly Clark was extremely afraid of being killed and this broken man taking his place in his world. Pursuing his Lex. “Don’t you dare commit the same mistake as me and drown yourself in ‘but what if this?’, ‘what if that?’, ‘what if he does this and that and bla bla bla’. You have all the tools to fix this problem, now all You have to do is take the first step.”
Letting go of his face like it had burned him, the other Clark turned back to grave of his Husband That Never Was, Lex's picture smiling at him.
“Don’t hide yourself under your fears, that’s no way to live.”
—————————————————————
A Lex that knows you and lives to hate you is better than a Lex that died loving you but didn’t know you at all.
The other man's final words kept repeating themselves on his mind as he and Barry came back home, the speedster completely unaware of the massive shift inside Clark's mind and heart.
Now he is here, seated on his apartments sofa with a phone number he isn't even sure is still connected and a voice at the back of his mind telling him how wrong it all could go.
What if he takes advantage of your trust? What if he blackmails you with your family? What if he stabs you the moment you set foot on that building? What if, what if, what if...
...What if he does none of that?
Don’t hide yourself under your fears, that’s no way to live.
Swallowing his doubts, Clark pressed call.
He was answered on the second ring.
"This is Lex Luthor speaking, how did you get this number?"
Clark sighed.
Trust was a two way street.
Can't demand it without giving it back.
"Hello, this is Clark Kent... I believe I have pertinent information. About your missing memories."
SV!Lex would 1000% believe that if he had the chance to take the “I was never born” vision experience from It’s A Wonderful Life he would get the Timmy Turner Special
“Now remember, along with the cameras and the scent transmitters we will also have the Neuron Pathways connected so we will feel everything you experience, so don’t do anything absurd,” Lex voice said on his ear, the little earpiece disguised as as his left earring glowing oh so gently.
Lexi smiled, adjusting the bodice of his dress while shivering in anticipation. “Oh, honey I make no promises.”
It was a gorgeous little thing, his dress. Lilac, as was his predilection, the bodice was comprised of a long stretch of fabric with both ends connected to the back and hips of his skirt, twisted so he could put his head into the loop and cross it over his breasts and form a delectable sleeveless dress that left a tantalizing triangle of flesh exposing the bottom of his breast bone and the start of the v of his hips and left his back completely exposed. The skirt was knee length, nice and flowy, with two dark purple petticoats under it for shape.
Lexy ran his hands on his thighs, the purple thigh high socks connecting to his matching garter belt beautifully and just imagining Kal-El’s hands running through them, squeezing and pulling on the fabric, tracing the patters on the lace as he made his way upwards, hooking his hands underneath the straps, pressing his thumb against his black lace panties covered clit was making him dizzy.
He wonders if his Mr.El would enjoy his color choices. If he would notice that Lexy’s black kitten heels matched his panties to a T when he has his feet perked up on his broad and strong shoulders and— he should stop thinking right now. Kal-El is not even here yet, he can’t be soaked already.
Didn’t stop him from grinding slightly on the cushions under him.
Kal-El, you have bewitched me. He whined softly to himself.
He was once again on the roof waiting for his Wonderboy, seated on the same armchair were he fingered himself into a frenzy.
Were Superman came all over his black marble floor. (God when they found all that creamy white cum all over the floor when they came to install the cameras and the transmitters Lexy nearly came all over again, his inner omega preening like it had just won the lottery.
His chosen alpha had marked him as a potential mate.
It took Lex and Alexis both pounding his poor pussy, two large straps deep into his guts, to clear his mind of that high.
They had succeeded. Mostly.)
Alexis had collected all of the cum in a bottle for its genetic material. It would be moronic to waste such freely given resources, he rationalized, even if the clone became redundant if the alien proved himself capable of being a good mate.
When Lexy tried to sneak into Alexis’s lab and take a taste both him and Lex spanked his cunt raw.
He has orgasmed more on the last 24 hours than all of them in their combined 35 years of existence, he was sure of it.
No matter. If everything went according to plan he would be tasting it differently from the source. The thought alone made his mouth water.
“Stop running your hands up and down like that! It tickles!” Lex voice came back up, distracting him from his thoughts of having his throat fucked nice and deep.
Lexy huffed. “Then turn the Pathway off?! If you can’t even handle my hands on our thighs your brain is going to explode when Kal-El does it”
“If he does it”, Alexis said on his right earning, “you are acting as if the courting has already happened and you are now just waiting for the claiming ceremony to be scheduled.”
Lexy’s hands squeezed his thighs hard enough for his purple nails to leave dents. Fear overtook his desire, clearing his thoughts with such intensity it nearly gave him whiplash. Closing his eyes, breathing heavily, he tried to imagine what a mating ritual would look like with his Mr.El. Those things are made in public, the omega naked and vulnerable, surrounded by people as their alpha claimed them in view of all that walked in.
Would he cover them? His cape draped over their bodies, his omegas covered from the hungry eyes of the world?
Or would he make a show of it, like most alphas tend to do…like his father once did?
There were tapes. Photographs. The fucker even framed the scent claiming on his office at home, big and detailed to anyone to see right over the fire place.
The frozen moment of his mother naked, her bare feet barely holding her stable as his father, completely dressed in his three piece suit, held her hands behind her back with one hand, her hair in the other exposing her flushed, tear streaked face to the room full of observers. Her heat as clear as her embarrassment, her humiliation. The yellow of his piss overflowing from where her pussy and his cock connected as he flooded her insides with his scent.
There were 20 other people on the background of that photo. Shareholders, socialites. Metropolis Old High Society. Lex knew all their names by age 7.
That claiming had 78 guest in total, 102 people if you count the waiters, butlers, maids and other staff. Lex knew all their names too.
Most didn’t remember that day any longer, a rare mercy earned from the 3 young Luthors. The ones that didn’t have their memories erased had only three other fates:
Bankruptcy.
Lab Rat.
Death.
The giant picture and all its copies, tapes, and other documents, were burned on the mansion’s garden, their ashes thrown inside the body bag where they shoved Lionel’s corpse after having dug him up three day after his funeral to piss on and kick it and throw the bag in the middle of the pacific.
And that was the end of Lionel Luthor: in a trash bag, covered in ash, piss, his skull caved in from how hard Lex stomped on it, both legs broken from Alexis holding his feet up on the gravestone as Lexy jumped and landed on both his knees, corpse bruising and kicked to kingdom-come.
They took a picture of it and buried it in their mother’s grave, placing it right in her bone hand.
They planted her favorite gardenias all around her afterwards as a gift and an apology for digging up her casket for it.
They hope she is laughing her ass off wherever she is.
Lionel and his empty casket. May the fishes feast on his eyes and the starfish devours his flesh alongside the shrimp and the sharks.
Lilian Luthor deserved to laugh over that trash bag more than anyone did.
…but would he and his have a similar fate? Laughing only from the great beyond as a meager revenge for being humiliated publicly in front of the whole country, nay the world?
Would his Mr. El be capable of that???
Oh god, where did all his excitement and desire go??? He hate this paralyzing fear.
Alexis’s voice cut through his panic. “Breath, darling. We will cross that bridge when we get to it.” He felt invisible hands on his shoulders, rubbing his nape, squeezing his arms. Alexis probably was using Lex as a connection between them.
Of the three of them, Alexis was the one who could comfort the best.
He leaned on those phantom touches as more tears collected in his eyes that he refused to let fall. “I adore him. I adore my Mr.El very much but I don’t think I could—”
“And he won’t. Weren’t you just telling us how different he was from all the others?”
“Or has the effect of his alien stench finally lifted and you can think with your brain again instead of your clit?”
The fact that he didn’t feel the impact of Alexis hand on his head as he clearly hit Lex over the head if the “OWW!!” he hear on his earpiece was any indication, meant that Alexis was considerate enough to turn Lex’s Pathway off beforehand.
Lexy giggled. Drying his tears and checking if they hadn’t ruined his makeup (they hadn’t), he smoothed his skirts one more time.
“That’s it, love. No panicking. We are here in case anything happens.” He felt an awkward placed hand pat him in the back. Alexis was patting himself in the back to transfer the feeling to him. So Lex had his Pathway privileges revoked I see, he thought, absolutely giddy with that turn of events. He could only imagine the pout he must be sporting right now.
“Look, he is coming!” Lex said, the sound of his fingers on a keyboard muffled in the background. “And right on time. Ok, before we turn our direct communication off so he can’t hear us, let’s check if we didn’t forget anything.”
“Ok.” Perking up, running his fingers through his red wig and adjusting his top one more time, Lexy crossed his legs and pulled his fan out of his pocket. “Ask away.”
So, rapid fire, for Superman could reach Mach VIII in less than a second so they may not have much time, Alexis and Lex turned on the 3D hologram camera feed, sat down on their velvet armchairs in their lead covered room, and looking at the eyes of the hologram of their clone as if he was sitting in the room with them, they asked:
“A37?” His fan, that they could now see on his lap.
“A37, check.” Lexy smiled, opening the maiden fan and given his invisible audience a coy look.
“F65?” Lexy blushed at Alexis teasing tone, taking five large condons from his pocket.
“F65, check” Then he shoved them back into his pocket, patting them for good measure.
“K13?” Here Lexy hesitated.
Lex, his arms crossed, looking worried at the approaching signal coming towards the towers asked again.
“Lexy, K13?”
With his hand slightly shaking, Lexy dug deep from the back cushions of his chair, taking a small ring box from it.
It was no ordinary ring box. Lead covered on the inside, it could only be open by someone who had Alexander Luthor’s DNA, fingerprints and his living pulse. No accidental opening if dropped, no using their stolen blood or fluids, no severing their hands off, no nothing.
He opened the box just long enough for them to confirm its contents before closing it back again and shoving it back down into the cushions.
“K13, check” Lexy set down again, his back straight, ignoring the little box like it was a pea under his 12 mattresses.
“Shouldn’t you keep it more easily accessible??” Lex exclaimed, looking at his counterpart like he was deranged.
“It won’t be necessary.”
“Weren’t you just now panicking over what he would do in a possible claiming?”
“I have to agree with Lex, Lexy. It’s only a precauti—”
“That will NOT be necessary.” Lexy uncannily looked at both at them in the eye, like he could somehow see them through their one way camera feed. “I trust my Mr. El. I will give him our rules and ask him about his views on claiming and all will be well! You guys will see!!!”
But the scent transmitters were already on and what they “saw” was Lexy’s Herculean effort to mask his fear with other emotions, a tactic perfected by Lex years ago when any show of weakness was considered a capital offense in the Luthor household.
“Oh, he is here! Ok, babes, fingers crossed!” Lexy smiled at them, pushing the little purple gems on his earrings to turn off his earpieces.
Now all Alexis and Lex could do was watch.
—————————————————————
Oh, he looks gorgeous, was the first thought Clark had when he touched down on their roof.
(And it was their roof. His cum and Lexy’s slick may no longer be coating the floor but the faint mingled scent, perhaps too faint for human nostrils, was unmistakable.
Gosh, he was soooo screwed.)
Soft looking red wavy hair cascading down his shoulders, so different from the blond curls from last time but no less beautiful.
His luminescent blue eyes where framed by dark long lashes and delicate purple eyeshadow, his cheeks painted with a soft rouge and his lips glistening with a gloss that smelled (and he could bet tasted as well) like strawberry.
He put his basket down on the coffee table and took both of those long hands in his, raising the gorgeous omega to his feet.
“Mr. Lexy, somehow even more beautiful than the last time I saw you,” he said kissing the backs of both hands, turning them around to nibble gently at both pulses, Lexy’s scent of nervousness, anticipation and desire filling his lungs.
There was also a bitter taste. Hidden, purposefully, underneath the nervousness, in such a way that any other alpha may had let it slip.
Fear.
Clark was suddenly reminded of passing by Cat’s bullpen and seeing another article denouncing one more instance of an entitled alpha with more money than brains making a move on one of the Luthors and not liking a no for an answer.
With a socialite, Lexy and his clones could deal with it with a good punch to the gut and a security guard, maybe a law suit if things were dire enough…
But what could they do against him if he proved himself another brute?
He opened his eyes, looking at Lexy standing there, his navel exposed and unprotected, his scent full of tentative hope and nerves.
Oh, my delight. I will prove myself to you.
Bowing down to his waist, he kissed Lexy’s left pulse more intensely, making a trail of kisses all the way to Lexy’s inner elbow, nibbling the soft skin there without taking his eyes from the omega’s and being recompensed with the sweet gasp of surprise and the even sweeter scent of desire.
A gesture that asked for trust. For a chance to court.
If he were any other alpha the position he just put himself would leave him vulnerable: Lexy would only need to grab a handful of his hair with his left hand, squeezing his head between his upper and lower arm to expose his eyes to his right hand and his (beautifully done, Clark notice) sharp nails.
Lexy let out a shaky breath, a giggle soft and gentle falling from his lips. Clark wanted to bottle it up and carry it around with him forever. “Hello, Mr. El.”
—————————————————————
Alexis watched as Superman led Lexy back to his armchair, kneeling in front of the omega with a gentleness that bordered on worship.
And the scent, Jesus Christ.
The scent transmitters could never give them a 1 for 1 replica, but what it could recreate…
God, it was mouthwatering.
There was adoration in that scent.
Lust, hungry and delicious, kept in check by the metallic scent of restraint.
Respect, sweet and all consuming.
Bless whoever of the three of them had the idea to creat this lead box of a room because the moan he just made was positively obscene and Superman didn’t need to hear it while his hands where gently squeezing Lexy’s calves.
He looked at Lex standing on the other side of room, his hand covering his mouth and nose, his body shivering.
He hadn’t taken his eyes away from the alien once.
He is shivering just from the facsimile of the scent, he thought, his own body trembling as he felt those warm, big and callused hands run down Lexy’s thighs as Kal-El stood up once more to grab the basket (hand woven, crafted by a person. Well used and well taken care off) he brought with him.
“I brought you gifts” the alien said, blushing beautifully under the moon light. “To start our courting in a good note,” he took out a honest to good pie from there, its scent warm and delicious making all three of their stomachs grumble. “I made this for you.”
Lexy looked at the pie like it was made of gold, watching unblinking as Kal-El took a pie cutter knife and a cute little ornate porcelain plate from there— what the fuck were they watching? Where did he find all that?? Since when aliens have ovens??? Why does he know how to bake???? — cutting a perfect sized slice of the strawberry pie and giving it to Lexy with the sort of care he didn’t even think most alphas had with their own mothers.
Strawberry pie.
Lexy’s favorite.
Smiling, Kal-El produced a beautifully crafted silver fork and kneeled once again at Lexy’s feet. Seating down on his own heels, Superman was at eye level with Lexy’s chin, waiting like a good little golden retriever puppy to hear if his offering was accepted.
“Oh my god, he really is midwestern.” Lex was incredulous, Alexis could see it in his eyes. And, as his eyes were identical, probably he could see it in his eyes as well.
Kal-El just needed the flannel to finish the farm raised, hard working, salt of the earth, all American boy image he was exuding like radiation right now.
He thought these guys were a Hollywood invention. The kind of alphas you dream about but knows, realistically, that they don’t fucking exist.
But here was fucking SUPERMAN of all people, kneeling at his chosen omega’s feet, providing for him a sweet meal in his good porcelain and his best cutlery, giving off a calming, relaxed and warm scent like—
“I didn’t know you knew how to bake, Mr.El.” Lexy moaned at the first forkful, Kal-El’s eyes blowing out with the sound, his scent please as punch. “My favorite too.”
“I know how to cook too, although my baking overshadows it by a long mile.” The midwestern alien scratched the back of his head, a bashful smile making his dimples pop. Lowering his arm so he was once again squeezing one of Lexy’s thighs, that creature looked at Lexy’s puffy cheeks, full of pie and happiness and said: “A happy omega is a well fed one, Mr. Lexy. And it would be my greatest honor to make your favorites for you as long as you want them.”
Lex threw himself on the floor belly first, one of the chair’s pillows pressed to his face. “WHY THE FUCK WOULD HE SAY THAT?!?!” Came his muffled scream.
Alexis was speechless. Why the fuck would he say that indeed, with those big blue eyes and those warm hands squeezing so scrumptiously?? Was he trying to kill them??
Unless his alien biology allowed him to fake his scent so convincingly that no human nose could possibly discern what he was actually feeling, he was legit too.
With his Pathway still connected, Alexis could feel every movement of those hands, their gentleness, their strength, the heat of such close proximity in his calves, the sweet taste of strawberry and pie crust on his tongue (and a deranged thought invaded his mind of Kal-El on his knees for him, a blueberry pie on his hands, his favorite, those big blue eyes looking at him like he was the most precious thing in the world)
He met Lexy yesterday and he already was halfway to smelling like…
Smelling like love.
Oh fuck, they were so screwed!
—————————————————————
Don’t orgasm because of pie, don’t orgasm because of pie, don’t do it Lexy, you are stronger than that!!!
His thoughts were almost in vain as he arrived at the border of the pie with great enthusiasm, his moans getting progressively more prolonged, his eyes rolling all the way back into his skull under his closed eyelids.
But the pie wasn’t the only one to blame here, oh no.
His Mr. El was not helping at all. In fact he may be making it worse actually.
At some point his legs opened to give space for the alpha, who was now standing on his knees, his bulge just a thrust away from touching his belly button.
The proximity made his scent impossible to ignore. The desire, hot and tender, was almost a physical caresses against his exposed skin. He was flushed, aroused, his nipples were erect and leaking and Kal-El’s hands on his thighs was not helping him at all in keeping with the program. When his thumbs started drawing little circles on the small sliver of flesh exposed by his skirt being bunched up he nearly squirted all over that big S decorating his chess.
He had important information to gather, dammit! Could he please stop being so delectable and sensual for just half a second so he could think straight???
(In the back of his mind, Lexy could admit that this was not normal. That no alpha on planet earth would ever be able to elicit such a reaction from him no matter how handsome or how fragrant their scent. Kal-El was truly one of a kind and he ran the risk of being ruined for all human touch afterwards.
Promise? Said his heart)
With the pie finished, and a considerable effort to not lick the plate like a degenerate, Lexy straightened his back, giving the plate back with a smile.
“The best one I ever had.”
The scent of joy and pride nearly made him pass out, Kal-El’s blinding smile nearly finishing him off for good. Taking the place and fork from his hands, the alpha kissed his knuckles gently before laying his hands on his (broad, firm, strong) chest right over his heart.
Gratitude.
This man is not real actually, this is all a very surreal and nice dream where the alpha of all alphas was truly the best out all off them and when I tell him the rules he will gladly accept them with no fanfare and them he will bend me over and fuck me nasty on this armchair until I’m so throughly breed I will be pregnant within the hour and be birthing my first babe of three exactly 272 day from now and—
“Lexy? Sweetheart, are you ok?”
Shaking his head slightly, Lexy looked at Kal-El eyes, his scent having mellowed into a soft concern.
Ignoring the sweetheart for now (for if he brought attention to it now he would sooner kiss Kal-El silly than ask any questions whatsoever) Lexy took a deep breath.
“Superman… Mr. El… Kal-El. If you desire, truly, to court me, I must first inform you of 3 rules you must follow.” He fortified his resolve, now or never. “These are non negotiable rules, that cannot be ignored or modified. Do you still want to proceed?”
Opening his eyes again (he didn’t even notice he closed them) he was met not with ultraje, nor disbelief or anger as he had many times before. No, Mr. El was looking at him with a gentle expression, his scent at ease, his heart beat calm under his fingers still laying spread over his chest.
“I’m all ears” and then he smiled, full of joy, respect and affection.
But that could still change.
—————————————————————
Clark watched fascinated as Lexy straightened his shoulders, his long pianist hands running up his chest, grazing lightly against his neck (and the shudder that ran through him could have vibrated glass into pieces if he wasn’t careful), ending up tangled firmly on his curls, the gentle pull on his hair stealing a moan from the deepest depths of his lungs.
When he opened his eyes again (he barely noticed himself closing them after that pull) he could see Lexy’s gorgeous eyes turned into rings of blue around a sea of black desire, the fragrance of his slick a siren call that was getting harder and harder to ignore.
Oh, to lift those skirts up and dive right in. Heaven on earth.
But the wonders never cease, as Lexy pushed his head all the way between his breasts, hiding away his beautiful face from his eyes.
From this close the scent of the heat milk was overpowering his senses. He only needed to hook away the fabric to have those soft mounts exposed and leaking at mouth range (and the sudden realization that perhaps that easy access was precisely why Lexy chose such garment made him so hard he was afraid his dick would open a hole on his trunks) and he had to make a insurmountable effort to not simply latch to one nipple and drink his fill like he was a parched traveler in a desert finally tasting sweet refreshing water after months of sand.
His mind, the part that sound like his Ma and was telling him since he set foot on this roof that she and Pa didn’t raise him to treat nobody like he was a dog and them bones, recognized the pose for what it was: a protective tactic.
One hand on his hair, the other on his nape. Four very sharp, very purple, claws one hair breath away from his artery.
If he was any other alpha, any other man, this would prevent him from harsh movements. Harsh reactions.
As it stands, this was a request of trust.
Lexy was placing his trust on him to not overreact.
Kissing the exposed skin, Clark relaxed all his muscles. He crossed his hands to his back, leaning even further into his omega’s touch.
“Tell me, sweetheart. I will listen.”
—————————————————————
Alexis had taken out his pants, his legs spread and his panties still valiantly hanging on his right ankle as he lazily fingered himself to the felling of warm alpha practically bent over his thighs, the other hand cupping his breast, rolling the nub between his pointer and middle fingers, staining the expensive Persian carpet with his milk.
Lexy was a stronger soldier than he was, because he was quite sure that if it was him with a breastful of alpha calling him sweetheart he would be bouncing on that supercock yesterday.
On the other side of the room, Lex was only faring better because of his Pathway being turned off, Alexis was sure of it.
Not that meant much.
Lex had discarded his vest half an hour ago, his top buttons undone, sweating like a whore in church. He still had his pants on, but the way he was periodically grinding the heel of his hand over his clothed clit spoke volumes about the state he was in.
As Lexy started to lay down the rules, their eyes zeroed on the alpha, measuring his reactions.
“I will tell you all the rules in one go. After that you can ask me anything. Ok?”
With his eyes closed, nuzzling Lexy’s breastbone, Superman was the picture of an alpha at ease. Kissing over one covered breast, making Lexy’s breath hitch, the man nodded, a soft “Ok” warming the nipple underneath in such a way that Alexis could feel his own tit leaking.
Pulling on his hair to make him stop his ministrations, earning them another deep resounding moan that made their clits quiver and their pussies wet as faucets, but making him stop his nuzzling— so responsive, so obedient. Where did they raise this alien?? — Lexy said:
“Rule number one: me and my clones are one AND three. Three facets of Alexander Luthor and we will be treated as such.”
Superman nodded, his curls ticklish under his chin as Lexy leaned over, laying his head down over the curls.
“Rule number two: Our empire is for us to rule, to manage, to name and to own. You’re our mate, not our business partner. You get no say in LuthorCorp without our permission and veto and even that is a stretch.”
Kal-El’s hands left their post behind his back, gently rubbing Lexy’s ankles. Another nod of affirmation came as those warm hands made their way upwards until they stopped at rest atop Lexy’s thighs.
“N-number three. Rule number three…” Lexy swallowed the stone on his throat. The warm on his thighs was now more distracting than ever with his Mr. El breezing by the rules without a single second thought, no jump of his pulse, no change to his scent.
“Love the three of us”
There! The pulse. Kal-El’s pulse nearly stopped underneath his fingers, only to come back on overdrive.
Alexis, felling that spark of the pulse on his fingers as well focused on the scent, his eyes locked on the alien with held breath.
Rule number three.
Off all the rules, that was the one that blocked them the most.
Love one omega? Easy.
Love 3?
Unrealistic.
Unreasonable.
Alexis closed his eyes. He was not watching that rejection happen.
“Darn it, I will have to change it then.”
Alexis opened his eyes instantly.
All three looked at the man like he— well, like he was an alien.
What the fuck was he talking about?
“What?” They all said.
Taking his left hand from Lexy’s thigh (and both him and Alexis pretend they didn’t miss it’s warm already) Kal-El reached inside the basket once more and took out a retangular object from within.
When he opened the fan, it took their breath away.
Crystal, as it was the custom. Beautifully crafted to look like Metropolis Skyline. The towers were rended beautifully in the foreground with the sunset depicted in purples and oranges and the stars made with tiny diamonds.
The place they met.
A fan of commitment.
“I designed it with only you in mind, but if I’m to consider you three one and the same the fans should reflect that, right? So they should be three pieces of a whole illustration, not individual parts completely divorced from one another.” He lifted the fan against the light of the light poles on the rooftop, inspecting the design as if he was already crafting another version in his mind. “I mean, I could just design the other fans to connect with this one, but that feels like an afterthought, you know? I want this to be special.” He took Lexy’s hand on his, kissing the back of it three times. “For all of you.”
—————————————————————
Lexy was not breathing. He just sat there, looking at Clark like he had never seen him before.
Then he looked at the fan. Then back at him. And then into the void, like he was looking at people that were not there.
Gently checking his pulse on his wrist, Clark called Lexy’s name, a knot of desperation crawling slowly but surely from his heart into his tongue.
“Lexy? Sweetheart? You are scaring me, please tell me what’s wrong. Was it something I said? Whatever it is we can—” and he may never find out what they can do because fingers were buried deep into his curls, pulling him towards Lexy’s lips and — oh they were kissing.
Oh, they were kissing.
Hauling himself up in a flash, Lexy in his arms, their lips wrapped around each other like vices, Clark sat down on the armchair, Lexy between his legs.
Turning his omega around, Clark sat Lexy’s perky and luxuriously fat ass against his chub, eliciting the most delectable moan his ears had ever been graced with while his right hand freed one of the breasts that has been begging for his attention since he got here. Resting that lovely head on his right shoulder, Clark kissed him once more as his left hand made its way up that skirt, felling the straps of the garter belt, the lace of the soaked panties.
“Wait, wait” Lexy broke their kiss, his lips swollen and pink, his eyes unfocused and his breath accelerated as if he had just ran from Metropolis to Star City to Gotham back to Metropolis in one go.
Clark’s hands stilled. Nuzzling their noses together he asked what was it.
Lexy patted his dress pocket, taking a honest to god condom from there.
Clark chuckled. “No, sweetheart we won’t need that.” When Lexy’s breath hitched, Clark quickly continued. “This is only our first date, my delight. I don’t know what people have been teaching their alpha children lately but where I was raised, our relationship would need to be months old for we to take that step. Heck, my Ma and my Pa took 3 whole years before they consummated their relationship and one year more before they had a claiming.”
Clark chuckled once more, his voice deepening as he pressed his mouth on Lexy’s ear, the body shudder that ran all over the leaner man’s body stealing Clark’s own breath. “But don’t you worry,” Clark grazed his hand up those exquisite thighs, reaching underneath those skirts, those soaked panties, fingers massaging that sweet engorged clit with precision and dexterity.
“I will not leave you wanting.”
—————————————————————
Lex could only look in amazement and terror as Alexis and Lexy lost their minds.
That alien was now three fingers deep on their cunts, clearly doing something to vibrate the digits as climax after climax was ripped from his poor clones bodies.
After the fourth orgasm, when Lexy lost completely his capacity for intelligent communication beyond two words sentences, the alien instructed Lexy to tap his arm or his neck three times.
That kinky alien, because that was a fucking kink he was seeing, said that he would ignore any verbal objections from that point forward and if he truly wanted him to stop he would have to tap out or say Krypton.
Simple. Lexy agreed (first with a nod, later verbally at the alien’s request).
He immediately started vibrating his fingers from then on out.
“N-no more. Kal please, no—”
“One more?” The alien huskily said on poor Lexy’s ear. “You want one more, sweetheart?”
Lexy was vibrating out of reality, his legs spread over the armrest like the night before, but now Kal was the one fingers deep into his poor cunt.
Making up to him as Lexy had demanded.
Such a good alpha.
“No, no more” he was drooling, his strawberry gloss eaten away from his lips seven orgasms ago, his panties long ripped from his body, his cunt puffy and overstimulated.
He wasn’t tapping out, though.
“Ok, baby, I will give you one more” the alien kissed the ensuing moan that his fingers tore from Lexy’s mouth.
“KAL-EL!” Alexis came all over the floor.
Long since fallen from his armchair, Alexis was riding the high of phantom alien fingers (four now if both their jumps and squirts were any indication), his hands shakily holding his legs up and apart, his head thrown back in the seat, giving Lex front row seat to watch the stretch just one superhand could accomplish.
And oh, boy, was that a stretch.
If he made a fist right now and socked Alexis’s gaping cunt he could easily fit his whole hand there and graze his knuckles against Alexis pretty button cervix (that was very visible to him right now, holy shit).
When he tried reaching for the controller on Alexis wrist that would turn off the Pathway, Alexis tried to bite his finger off so now he stood there on the precipice of a decision:
Keep his faculties from turning into mush by keeping his Pathway turned off while watching and cataloging the alien’s every move
(“One more, sweetheart?” Softly, gently, more purr than words. His forehand pressed against Lexy’s as if he wanted to become one singular flesh.
“No-No m-more. No mo—” the omegas eyes were white. The rolling of them added to the drop of his eyelids making him look debauched and possessed.
Kal-El kissed each eyelid, nuzzling each one with his nose as he breathed in the scent of his omega delirious in his pleasure.
“One more? Are you sure? That would be your 15th one, my delight, are you sure?”
“P-please. No more”
No tapping. No Krypton.
“Ok, honey” he positioned his head on Lexy’s left breast, his remaining hand gently but firmly holding Lexy by the throat. “One more,” and he sucked that teat like a man starved as he repositioned his arm behind the omega’s pliant body, fisting Lexy into spasms.
The arch of his counterpart’s body was beautiful. His legs spread, his feet on tiptoes as most of his weight was being supported by the hand rearranging his guts, his head thrown back against his alpha’s shoulder with one hand holding the wrist of the hand around his throat while the other tangled itself in dark curls alternating between pulling the strands and pushing the aliens head further into his breasts.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck! MR.EL PLEASE” Lexy sobbed. His legs were shaking like a new born fawn. It was truly the hand on his throat and the one on his cunt preventing him from falling down like a stringless puppet. “I can’t— I can’t—- PLEASE”
Letting go of Lexy’s throat, the alien grabbed the omega’s jaw, tilting his head downwards.
He changed the angle of his thrusts.
When Lexy saw the bulge of that closed fist against his belly he squirted so hard the arch went over the parapet.)
Or he could turn on his own Pathway and join Alexis on the floor as he felt what it was truly like to have the strongest being in the world fist fuck him into a frenzy.
… but he has gathered such useful information already, like that mention of a Ma and a Pa for example that was just too good to miss and he may lose even more vital information if he was lost in the Martian sauce like those two right now.
He could already piece together the puzzle that was Superman with what he now knew. Midwestern manners, Ma and Pa, and, most damming of all, The Wait.
The Wait was a tradition of the Midwest, more specifically the states of Kansas, Missouri and Illinois.
The act of waiting for phallic penetration.
There were many schools of thought in those three states on how to handle The Wait, not one household being equal, but Superman appeared to be following the school that believed that even if there where no consummation, it was unthinkable to leave his omega unsatisfied.
As Lexy and Alexis moaned in clear rapture and ecstasy as the alien spanked another squirt from them he was quite glad abstinence was not on the agenda.
In the end, the decision was made for him.
Three taps on the forearm and the game was over.
Oh well, next time then.
—————————————————————
What was his name again? It started with Le but he couldn’t, for the life of him, tell anyone who asked what came after right now.
Maybe it wasn’t even his name really. Maybe his name was—
“Sweetheart?”
Yes. That was his name.
“Hum?”
A bottle of water was gently placed against his lips.
Sweetheart drank greedily, his alpha carefully measuring how much he was taking so he would not choke.
His alpha was so good to him. He picked well. Sweetheart started to purr in sweet joyance, nuzzling under his alpha’s chin, chirping happily when his alpha reciprocated and rubbed his cheek all over his hair and face.
Warm hands gently massaged his thighs, his hips, melting away any tension that might still be present. A cold compress was taken from the basket (his alpha was so prepared. Good alpha, resourceful alpha. Good for the future puppies), wrapped around a red cotton cloth and pressed against his puffy cunt.
The moan that left his mouth was a mix of relief and adoration.
Good alpha, taking care of him so well.
And they stayed like that for a while. Kal-El gently guiding Sweetheart back to his body, checking on the compress, wrapping Sweetheart on his cape, laying them on the part of the floor that was not soaking wet from Sweetheart faucet like squirting.
When Sweetheart remembered that, actually, his name was Lexy, half an hour had already passed.
Oh, yeah. Ruined for the whole human race. Nothing is ever fucking topping that, god bless.
“I hope you know… that you will have to bathe me and put me to bed today because I’m not walking anywhere anytime soon”
The chuckle that answered him made his poor abuse cunt throb.
“I will do it gladly.” Running his hand up and down his thigh, Kal-El gently laid Lexy down, his head resting over his steel corded thighs.
His thunks were definitely a shade darker of red than they were when he arrived.
A taste. Just one taste, thought Lexy as he tried to turn his body around to crawl in hands and shaky knees towards his soaked prize. The thought that his Mr. El came just from pleasuring Lexy risking to cloud his mind once more.
“Shhh, shhh. No, Sweetheart. Not right now. We still have some things to talk about.” Mr.El gently turned his back around, his fingers brushing away the red strands of his wig away from his face.
Like what? He thought. Didn’t they already talk about everyth—
And then he blushed.
Oh, yeah. They didn’t. He jumped Kal-El before they could really talk about anything.
Oops.
That chuckle was back making his insides turn into purée and his clit make a valiant attempt at coming alive again.
“So you and your clones are a set? Three amazing men to love and adore in one fell swoop?”
Such a cute upgrade from fuck a pussy, finger two for free. Lexy nodded, gently running his fingers over that luscious little dimple on his left cheek. “Hum huh. That’s us. I will introduce you to them myself. Just set the date and they will be here.”
That smile that could melt even the most miserly of hearts blessed him once more. “Oh, that would be grand.” Running his large warm hands over his omega’s still exposed breasts, massaging the two mounds making the leaner man sigh contently, Kal-El thought long and deeply, the soft moans of his omega lulling him into a meditative kind of state.
“Rule #1 is easy enough to comprehend. If I make a mistake you and yours are more than welcome to correct me, sweetheart.” Lexy nodded, almost sleepy. The gentle press on his breast soothing, the cape nice and warm smelling like Kal in all his sunshine and hale and metal and something completely alien glory.
“Rule #2 is also a no brainer. I wouldn’t even know where exactly to start with running a company. I will leave that for the experts, if that’s alright with you.”
Lexy purred softly. Oh, that was more than alright. Their empire and their alpha. They get to keep both without one interfering with the other.
“As for rule #3,” Kal bended over him, his face hovering upside down over his. “If they are half as lovely as you, and I’m fairly sure they are as they are also you, it would be no chore at all. I would even consider it a bliss.”
What should Lexy do but kiss him?
Long, sweet and deep, the kiss was stealing all his oxygen when suddenly Kal raised his head.
“What? What is it?” Please don’t be another fire, things were just starting to get good.
“Don’t bring your other selves here.”
“Wha— why?”
“I want to meet them somewhere exclusive for each of them. Our first meetings should be just as remarkable as the top of the tallest building on the city. Let the roof be only ours, sweetheart.”
Oh, be still my beating heart.
Lexy was breathing heavily, looking up as the moon gave Kal-El a halo of light.
Any question he had, any doubts and fears, all were wiped away in an instant. All he could see now was his Mr.El in all his magnificence, his warm smile and his lovely scent of adoration and affection.
If this is a dream he will kill whoever dares to wake him up.
“One more.” He gripped Kal-El’s curls once again. With their lips a hair breath away he whispered directly into that plush sinful mouth. “I want one more, Mr.El.”
Kal’s eyes dilated beyond the humanly possible, his eyes once again entirely black and filled with desire.
“One more, sweetheart?” He lifted Lexy back to the armchair, his cape still wrapped around his stunning body, the lilac and the red making him look positively regal against the night sky. Lifting both dress and cape away from his sumptuous desire, he was now lodged between those gorgeous legs he was salivating over when he was those five blocks away.
That damp, curly bush was whispering his name, begging him to bury his nose deep and breathe in that sweet musk until it was coated to the entirety of his lungs.
“One more, please, Mr. El.” Lexy took one warm indestructible hand each, rubbing them from his ass cheeks to the back of his knees, leaving them there with the explicit intention of having his legs held open as his pussy was eaten good.
A mischievous little smile graced that handsome face. “As you please”
—————————————————————
Turning the Pathway off after the end of the aftercare was perhaps his best idea ever because if he was pussy eaten by Superman right now he may die on the spot.
Lexy truly was a stronger soldier than he was.
Also bless Superman and his cold compress, that was a fucking life saver.
“Any—” he took another breath. Jesus Christ that was intense. “Anything of interest?”
Lex arched an eyebrow, turning back to his giant monitors. The documents, newspapers, weather reports from up to 32 years ago, and so much more of Missouri, Kansas and Illinois was being meticulously scanned for any potential connections to their lover boy extraordinaire.
“Oh, you could say that.”
Behind them, Lexy’s legs were gripping for dear life as Kal-El decide to give him what he wanted, the alien now standing with Lexy’s legs squeezing his head reflexively and desperately as Kal-El’s arms hugging him where the only thing keeping his body from falling face first into the ground.
Not that Lexy was truly worried about that.
No, no. As Kal-El’s tongue dove deeper and deeper into Lexy’s molden heat, Lexy’s only worry was trying his hardest to stuff as much as he could of Kal’s cock into his throat.
this was overshadowed by the other More Horrifying things in the flashbacks, but can't get over little bb lex crying because no one came to his birthday party... i take back every time i made fun of him for complaining about his Bald Guy Trauma. maybe bald people ARE oppressed
It’s not even that bald people are oppressed is that children can be specially cruel
I also didn’t get why they would make fun of him for such a non issue but my sister reminded me that 1) no having hair so young is weird SPECIALLY if you did have hair one day, went on a trip with your dad and came back hairless
2) the rich rarely have empathy, we all know that, and that behavior starts being enabled young so the children of elite school Excelsior are 100% little shits in training
3) children carry grudges that don’t even make sense or are fair in any way based on emotion and vibes alone and they may use any excuse they may see fit to act upon it (Hello Oliver, you piece of shit)
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