High Corn Drifter
High Corn Drifter
by Te
December 2001

Disclaimers: If they belonged to me, I'd make them give me the car.

Spoilers: The vaguest of possible spoilers for Jitters.

Summary: Oz winds up in Smallville. Things get weird. And, by weird, I mean smutty.

Ratings Note: Big, fat NC-17. Smut-diddly-smut.

Author's Note: No redeeming values here. None. At all.

Acknowledgments: Merry Christmas, Debba! Thanks go to my beautiful We for audiencing and noodging me along. More thanks to everyone who squealed at me after reading the snip in my blog. <g>

Feedback only encourages me. leytelj@gmail.com


The boy tuning his guitar on the small coffee shop stage is about as determinedly non-Smallville as someone can be without being, well... himself. It's as good as permission for Lex, who studies him unabashedly from over his over-sweet cappuccino. There's no way in hell someone like the boy would stay here long enough to make trouble for a little bit of G-rated voyeurism.

Hiking boots that look as though they've been used for exactly that. Jeans as worked as any farmer's, worked enough to sell for a couple of hundred dollars to some of the stupider of Metropolis' fashion victims. Several layers of t-shirts, the top one bearing the faded, chipped logo of a band Lex thinks he may have actually seen perform.

Thinks about it a little harder and, yes. He'd left the club before the police had arrived, bruised and bleeding, high more on adrenaline than anything else, laughing his ass off, and absolutely determined to never return.

He liked his bone structure, after all.

Slips out of the memory smiling and just turns the smile on a little higher when he realizes that the boy is watching him now. Changeably green eyes, pale skin, obviously dyed blue-black hair.

Lots of jewelry, though none of it is the silver that seems strangely appropriate for boys of his sort.

His eyes are old.

Drifter, then.

Chipped nail-polish that matches his hair.

The boy raises an eyebrow, never pausing in his guitar-tuning.

And Clark is still silently thrusting his supposed heterosexuality all over the place, and he really doesn't feel like calling down any Metropolis parasites, no matter how talented, and.

The boy is... interesting looking.

If he doesn't prove to actually be interesting, Lex can always suggest the use of a gag.

Shows his teeth a little. Cruises the boy just as obviously as he can. Men have always seemed to just plain ignore it (Clark), run scared (Dominic, Bruce), or pounce (also Bruce, sometimes within the same fifteen minutes), but the boy just gives him a slow, nearly solemn nod.

Strange enough to make Lex... prickle a little. Just what is the boy expecting?

And he looks up again, moves his head back and forth in this strange kind of sway that's nothing like either stretching or dancing. Stares at Lex. Bright-eyed this time.

Smiling like a predator.

... the hell?

Lex raises his own eyebrow and the boy looks... odd, for a moment. Like he's given away a secret he didn't intend to. Definitely interesting. Lex smiles, shrugs a little against the boy's abruptly watchful look. He'll stay for the show.

Which turns out to be an hour or so of acoustic classic rock, with no vocal accompaniment. The boy's no professional, but there aren't any missed notes. Some hint of real feeling during a few of the songs, and the high school kids (no Clark) that come in mid-set do the singing for the boy, off-key and lusty.

There may be something to those worries about kids drinking too much caffeine.

Lex smirks into his third cappuccino and waits for the boy to finish collecting his tips before making his move...

... and then just sits back because the boy comes to him, unsmiling save for something in his eyes. Guitar case and backpack set down beside him, and the boy wipes his hand down on his jeans before offering it.

"Oz," he says.

"Lex Luthor." Shakes the offered hand.

Makes the kid -- Oz -- blink, tilt his head to the side. Maybe trying to see if he can place Lex within the context of whatever bit of PR he'd seen most recently. Still holding Lex's hand in his own surprisingly small one. "Your parents didn't hold much truck with destiny, hunh?"

Which is an... odd response, but. Interesting. "Destiny is what you make it."

Another flash of amusement in those eyes, strange against the weirdly still face. "Oookay... what about the law of unintended consequences?"

Already, the strangest conversation he's had with a potential fuck. Well, since Princeton, at least. They liked their intellectual airs at Princeton. Lex sips his drink, puts on an exaggerated 'I'm thinking' face. "If the consequences can't be dealt with, then you didn't plan your destiny very carefully, now did you?"

"Hunh." Oz's "I'm thinking" face could very well be real, but he slips out of it long enough to order plain black coffee.

"Careful, they brew it farmer-strength out here."

"Says the man with the cappuccino."

"What can I say? I thrive on caffeine."

"Not global-scale evil?"

"I'm a businessman, not a James Bond villain." Smirks. "Or my father."

"Have you ever noticed that the villains almost always say something along the lines of 'I'm a businessman?'"

Snorts. "Ah, but you'll note my careful avoidance of the suspicious Italian accent."

"Very smooth... Lex. Hunh. Don't think I'll be getting used to that name anytime soon."

"And Oz is so much less bizarre?"

"Oh, no, it's bizarre, all right. But, you know, your name is Lex Luthor, and that's... that's probably not as odd as I think it is, is it? Hmm."


"So, out of curiosity, how do you feel about Superman?"

"What?" And the boy doesn't look high... "When did we start talking Nietzsche?"

"You know, I could just about believe you would go for the semi-obscure philosophy reference rather than the really obvious pop culture one, but... no."

"Pop culture... Oz, how many different conversations are we having here?"

"Oh, just the one. Well, maybe two. That's kind of a tough call. See, there's the interesting look into our relative psyches that's going on -- conversation A. There's also the conversation about why your name is making me freak out a little, most of which you're probably unaware of."

"Conversation B."

Oz nods, eyes his coffee a little warily. Does one of those strange head-sways and Lex realizes that the boy is... sniffing. "Yes. And, despite the fact that your name is Lex Luthor and we're sitting in a coffee shop in Smallville , Kansas, and you deny any knowledge of Superman... you're not playing me." It's not a question.

Lex considers throwing out a double entendre, but can't come up with anything that isn't hopelessly weak. He would like to steer this conversation back to... something normal. Or at least less weird. "You're a very odd young man, Oz."

"Heh. Not as odd as the kid who dropped me off here. Man, I could tell he was laughing about something, but..."

And Oz looks... distinctly troubled. Which is odd, considering that he'd given every impression of being an experienced drifter. Used to the vicissitudes of life on the road, etc. -- a life Lex has been quite happy to read about and leave it at that. But... "You don't think you'll be able to get... wherever you need to go?"

"That's probably more of a meta-question at this point than you intended it to be."

Snorts. "Indulge me."

"Well, on the surface of things, I didn't really have anywhere in particular I needed to be, so being here, in Smallville, Kansas, having coffee with Lex Luthor, waiting for Clark Kent to show up --"

"You know Clark?"

"Hunh. I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that I don't know him the way you do."

"And just what are you implying?"

"Whoa. Not that. Or... wow. This is just putting my childhood in a whole new light."

"Wha...? Okay, no, don't explain. Or do, but in order. Tell me about the meta thing?" It might even make sense. Mystery in front of him, barely over five feet tall and way more confused than Lex is. That, at least, is comforting.

"Right, the meta. Okay, so I was pretty much drifting through, catching rides where I could. Keeping kind of a low profile."

Lex waves for the waitress. "You don't look like the type to need a low profile."

Small grin. "I'm clearly not trying hard enough. Basically, there's a lot about the U.S. government that's reminiscent of the X-Files."

"The X-Files?"

"Hunh. Suddenly, Xander's relationship with Giles is making a lot more sense."

"Are you high?"

"Sadly, no."

Zoe appears, pad in hand, and Lex considers ordering another cappuccino. Sends another look at Oz, instead. Dueling raised eyebrows. "Come back to my place?"

He can almost feel Zoe adding her own raised eyebrow to the mix, which makes him grin. Probably like a shark. Oz just grins back at him. Mini-predator with too much jewelry. "I can't promise to get any less confusing and/or disturbing."

"Even better." Turns to Zoe. "Check, please."

"Sure thing, Mr. Luthor."

Well, she had been calling him Lex.

Wonders what this year's crop of teenaged boys say about rich queer freaks. Honestly hopes he gets to point out that whole naked crucifixion thing to one or two of them.

Ah, pettiness.

The Spyder gets Oz's attention and obvious approval. His toy. Heh. "Hop in."

"I think I should be worshipping in silence."

Smirks. "Nah. Just say 'oooh,' and move on. I have to enjoy cars like this while I'm still young enough that people won't say I'm overcompensating for something."

Gets an actual laugh out of Oz, albeit brief. Sparkling eyes focused on him. "Oooh."

"Excellent. Now come on."

Takes the long way to the castle just to feel the Spyder purr all around him. Likes the very obvious way that Oz is enjoying the speed, one arm stretched out to touch the back of Lex's seat, feet up on the dash after a questioning look.

Strange little man enjoying himself. Lex cranks up the Metropolis-ready sound-system as they drive between endless cornfields, murders of crows bursting into the air to either side of them. Familiar in that deceptive deja-vu way.

The wind's too loud for them to talk, and that makes things endlessly clearer.

The hand on his seat shifts to his shoulder, lingers on his throat.

Lex takes his hand off the gear-shift just long enough to slip it beneath Oz's layered t-shirts, tug and tease at the line of hair beneath his navel.

The castle looms as it always does, almost exactly as out of place as it should be. Maybe he's just getting used to it.

Terrifying thought.

Stops easily enough to avoid tossing Oz through the windshield and no easier. Flips off the stereo.

"You drive like a maniac, you know."

"Mm-hmm. You meet the most interesting people that way."

Questioning look Lex doesn't bother to answer with anything but another smirk. Oz just shakes his head. Mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "insane," and seems to be referring entirely to himself.

Lex is... having fun. Smiles to himself and gets kissed for his trouble, Oz maneuvering over the gear shift and between Lex and the steering wheel very much like someone used to motor vehicle sex. Small, warm boy on his lap, surprisingly strong and callused hands on his scalp.

The kiss itself is its own brand of slow hunger, nowhere near as desperate as Lex thinks it must look like.

Which makes about as much sense as everything else today.

Lex gets his hands on the boy's hips and drags them closer. Wiry-hard Oz-thing in his arms, attempting to crawl down his throat.

Lex has to laugh.

Until Oz bites his lip.

And then he has to laugh some more. "Kansas, Oz. They already hate me here. Public sex is probably a bad idea."

"Mm. You're probably right, but, you know, maybe we can come back out here after sundown. I would dearly love to fuck you in this car. On this car. Near this car. I can be flexible."

Lex gets a hand between them, cups Oz through his jeans. Squeezes. Gets his other hand wound into Oz's hair before the boy can dive in for another kiss and holds him there. "How flexible?"

And Oz's eyes are very green now. Blacker than black in the widening pupils. Somehow... wild. Forest creature with -- yes -- traces of eyeliner. Sexy as hell even just stilled like this. Watching Lex unblinkingly.

Enough of an answer right there.

Lex lets himself be kissed, Oz's hands on his shoulders, pressing him back against the seat. Thumbs stroking Lex's throat almost hard enough to leave marks. Definitely stronger than anyone would see at first glance. Pretty much a rush straight to his cock and he bucks up against Oz who just... rolls with it.

In the car is starting to seem like an extremely good idea.

But Oz breaks off. Stares at him for a moment. Sniffs him for a longer moment. Dips his head and licks a long, dangerously suggestive stripe from one side of his throat to the other.

"You're kind of feral, aren't you?"

"Does it bother you?"

"Does it look like it bothers me?"

Extremely toothy smile.

"You are going to explain things in plain English at some point tonight."

"Well, all right, but I'm not giving away any secret identities."

"Secret... no, wait, we were doing a lot better when we weren't talking about anything but sex."

"I agree." And Oz half-jumps, half-crawls out of the car, managing to rub against Lex most of the way. Teasing, toothy smile.

Something has lifted the mild brood that was on Oz earlier, which makes things... even better. Pops the trunk so Oz can rescue his guitar and backpack, and earns a questioning look. "You're not leaving Luthor castle until we can get through five consecutive sentences each without confusing the shit out of each other."

Oz grabs his things and snorts. "I don't think I have enough clothes for that."

Lex smirks over his shoulder. "Even better."

Into the castle's gloom and Lex tosses his jacket at a chair, considers heading to his office for the sole purpose of pissing Oz off a little. Loses the thread of that plan when Oz bends him over backward and licks his scalp. Ticklish, disturbing, sexy as hell.

Lex doesn't think he's ever going to get used to the way every person he has sex with wants to do that.

"Planning on snapping my spine?"

"Just seeing how... flexible you are."

Oz is holding him easily. The green of his eyes is pretty much invisible, though that could be a trick of the light. Small hand slipping down his chest, opening buttons as he goes.

There really aren't too many fighting moves that would allow Lex out of this situation without the kind of gymnastics he usually tries to avoid. Has the distinct impression that the kid knows this very well.

"Are you always this... perfunctory?" Oz's hand exploring his chest and belly with a certain level of possessive appreciation.

"I prefer to think of it as being laconic in as many aspects of life as possible."



"Actions speak louder than words?"

"At this point, I'm just hoping they speak more coherently than words." Pushes Lex back up onto his feet, spins him around and sucks hard on one nipple.

"Jesus. That's... pretty clear."

Gets a bite in response.

Shrugs out of his shirt and buries his hand into the over-gelled hair. Crunchily reminiscent of the club-kids of his youth, though none of them had ever been quite so... confident, maybe?

They'd all taken one look at his name -- if not his expression -- and bent over in every way they could think of. He's not sure how he feels about Oz's attitude beyond intrigued.

Turned the hell on.

Can't quite think of the boy as dangerous, which is, in itself, a source of potential danger.

Short guitarist's nails raking his sides, just a little too hard for a casual tease and Lex looks down into hungry eyes. Very black. "Upstairs?"

Oz nods, but doesn't pull away immediately. Holds Lex's eyes while he bends in to hold his nipple between his teeth again. Increases the pressure by increments.

Very seriously watching to see exactly how much Lex can take.

Makes his cock jump. Makes him swallow a groan.

Almost impossible to focus on the actual sensations for a long moment, too lost in being so frankly measured for this. Has to close his eyes to do it, because it's suddenly very important that Oz know what his limits are before this goes any further.

And Jesus, what a find...

Pleasure to pain to painful pleasure, old stereotypes of sadomasochism very much doing their job. Invisible red lines of heat lightning arcing through his body and Lex pushes himself as far as he can before telling Oz to ease off.

Opens his eyes to a slow nod and the hallucinatory impression of a ripple just beneath the surface of Oz's face.

"Gonna hurt me?"

"As much as you let me."

"I could get used to honesty."

"It's surprisingly effective at times."

Laughs a little and reaches back to slip Oz's hands down to his ass.

"Mm. Yeah. I think I'm gonna fuck you pretty hard, Lex. Work for you?"

"Fuck, yes." Can't bring himself to care about how breathless he sounds. For now, Oz can take as much control as he wants. "Upstairs."


Oz doesn't so much follow him up the stairs as heel him. Brief touches to his back, his legs, his ass as they go. Some strange form of being gentled. It just makes Lex more aware of the tension thrumming through him. Not sure this is going to be anything like the little games he's played at the clubs over the years.

This is serious.

In his room, the bedposts are mocking, glaring things, and when Oz's backpack hits the floor with a distinct clank Lex has a decision to make. Just how helpless is he going to let himself be?

Glances at Oz who has a rueful look turned on his bag.

"Do I want to know?"

Blackly humorous look, though the darkness could just be because of the kid's eyes. "Do you?"

"Well, I'm hoping I didn't pick up a serial killer..."

Another sniff at the air, another predator's smile. "But it turns you on that you might have." Not a question.

"In that way where I probably need therapy, yes."

Low chuckle. "I'm... no killer."

"Here's hoping that honesty thing you had going is still in effect."

"Oh, it is. For example: If you don't start stripping now, I'll be highly disappointed."

"How disappointed?"

"Disappointed enough to make you bleed."

Lex shudders and pauses despite himself. The boy looks surprised at what he just said, focusing inward for long moments, brow furrowed in thought. Shakes like an animal before turning back to Lex.

"I want you naked." Brushes a hand over the bulge in his jeans, half-absently.

"Your wish..."

Toes off his shoes, bends to slip his socks off. Scalp prickling in that someone's-watching-me way that makes Lex want to perform a little. Stands up and Oz is taking him in, a full-body cruise of raw hunger. Flatteringly terrifying.

Whips his belt out of the loops in a practiced move and isn't remotely surprised when Oz reaches for it.

Hands it over and has to adjust himself at the way Oz wraps the buckle around his fist and runs his tongue over the leather. Never takes his eyes off Lex.

Lex opens his pants and pushes them down with his boxers. Steps out of the clothing puddle and just beyond Oz's reach. A raised eyebrow is the only visible response to Lex's absolute nudity, and then Oz has a hand wrapped around his cock.

"I was wondering why your scent was so... mild."

Oz teases the slit with his thumb, over and over until Lex thinks he might do just about anything to get more. Somewhere.

"Get on the bed."

"Hands and knees?"

Oz thinks about it for a very obvious moment. Lex can almost see himself being placed and positioned and considered somewhere behind those odd eyes. "On your belly for now."

Lex complies, reveling in the raw exposure and trying to keep control of his breathing.

"I want to tie you, but your skin looks pretty sensitive. Do you have something I can use?"

"Not the shackles?"

Brief touch to the wrist he isn't looking at. He hadn't heard Oz move. "Only if you want them."

"Jesus, Oz... left night table, bottom drawer."

Fitted into the mink-lined cuffs faster than he's quite ready for. Manages to restrain himself from testing how well he's caught. He knows exactly how sturdy the bedposts are, after all.

A pause and the rustle of clothes somewhere out of sight, and then Oz is crawling onto the bed, naked and half-curled beside him. Unfocused gaze and callused fingers tracing his cheek, the curve of his scalp. Down the bridge of his nose and nudging his mouth.


Two fingers into his mouth. Salt and the lingering hint of strong coffee. Lex keeps still, gives Oz a questioning look.

Raised eyebrow. "Suck them."

Has to close his eyes against the sudden rush of pure feeling and sucks hard, using his teeth and tongue to their best advantage. Gets his mouth fucked for his trouble, but there's not enough leverage for him to turn his face for a better angle.

Oz's other hand is on his face now. The one with the belt.

Flinches a little at the touch of leather but keeps sucking until Oz pulls out.

"Mm. I think you're exactly as sexy as you think you are."

"That's comforting."

"No problem."

Oz shifts to straddle him, runs wet fingers down Lex's spine and rides out the shudder it brings.

Tiny sharp kisses all over his back, none of them hard enough to bruise, and Lex is pushing up against Oz, trying to slot his ass against the boy's hips. It's not working at all, and the sheets are far too smooth for what his cock needs.

Hands on his shoulders, enforcing the bondage aspects, and Oz's mouth is wet against the back of his neck. Licking and nibbling there, scraping bare teeth and moving lower.

Makes a solemn, thorough kind of love to each shoulderblade.

Digs his knuckles into the bundle of nerves at the base of Lex's spine.

Moves his mouth there and Lex is starting to gasp. He's being carefully, meticulously sensitized, and each maybe-accidental brush of the belt just lets him know why.

Oz moves lower still, spreads Lex's cheeks and lets out an incredibly believable growl against his hole.

"Fuck --"

Tongue deep in him before he can even breathe and Lex has never had any power for this. Too hot, too raw, too fucking intimate for him to have control over his reactions. Squeezes his eyes shut and groans, pushing his hips back against Oz's face.

Bites back the automatic protest when Oz holds him still, because God, yeah, this, too.

This little scene rapidly spiraling toward absolute control for the strange boy who has him tied to his own bed.

Had he really thought he'd grown out of this?

Something in the thrill of finding this here, smack dab in the middle of America's heartland. Wants to get just as illegal as he possibly can and Oz is tonguefucking him so gently.

Slow thrusts and slower circling licks. Tasting him as much as driving him insane and it's good to be tied for this. Good to be able to struggle against the too much and not enough.

"Oh God, Oz..."

He doesn't speed up, doesn't change the rhythm in any way. More obvious than any words could be that this is Oz's show, and he'll do whatever he wants, whenever he wants.


Feels his cock leaking pre-come and wonders how long he'll last.

Wonders what the pain will be like, when it comes.

Bites the pillow and sweats.

Gasps when Oz pulls away to lick a long stripe up his spine.

Air and space for a heartbeat before there's a finger in his ass, rough and ruthless. Not fucking so much as... testing.

"I have to say, I'm really appreciating the opportunity to see you like this."

Even the boy's fuck-talk is odd. "Helpless?"

"Needy. It adds a certain depth in a way that I can't possibly explain."

"I'd ask you to try, but -- ah fuck -- I don't want you to lose focus."

"Mm. No. That would be bad." Harsh thrust and Oz crooks his finger.

"Oh fuck --"

"Yeah. Now, I think..."

But Oz pulls out, steps off the bed. "Wha...?"

The first hit shocks a yell out of him. God, had he forgotten? Too quick to feel the pain before the next comes, over his hips.

And the next across his shoulders.

No build-up, unless the boy intends to hit him hard enough to leave scars, which he just might decide to do. "Jesus, Oz!"

"Shift over."


"Closer to this side of the bed. My reach isn't really good enough for a king-sized bed."

"Your... reach." Can't turn his head enough to actually see the boy. Back and ass burning in clearly defined stripes.

"Second thoughts?"

Nowhere near ready to admit to that. "Should I be having them?"

"I'm a stranger. A drifter. There's no one in the house, we're far enough away from the world that you could scream your lungs out and no one would hear you. All you have is my word that I won't beat you to death. I think you should be having second thoughts, but hey, that's just me."

And yes that is a thrill of stark mortal terror that goes directly to his cock. He'd never quite believed he could get honestly hurt in these games, not back in Metropolis, no matter what he did, but... Well, at the time he just assumed the lack of fear was the combination of his convenient, annoying last name and all the assumed invincibility he was supposed to be feeling as a rich, white, healthy American teenager.

Now, though, Lex thinks it's just that he hadn't met anyone scary enough.

Smallville is just full of surprises.

"Second thoughts wouldn't do me much good, as things stand."

"No, but I'm curious."

"What will you do if I don't answer you?"

"Whip you."

"What will you do if I do answer you?"

"Whip you."

Snorts a laugh. "See, there's that honesty thing again. I have no reason to believe you won't be honest about everything else you've said."

"You have no reason to believe I will."

"What do you want me to say, Oz?"

"Just the truth." And he can almost feel the boy smiling, though he wouldn't be surprised if the angularly interesting face is just as blank as ever.

"I don't have any incentive to tell you the truth."

"You have a point. Hmm."

And there's a pause, the room silent except for the ticking grandfather clock and Lex's own annoyingly loud breathing. Lex is just about to wonder if Oz has used that silence of his to skip right out of the castle with the silver and the keys to the Spyder when there are hands beneath his torso. "Fuck!"

And he's being hauled closer to the side of the bed, just far enough that he can feel the stretch in his right arm.

"Decided to go with the truth-free whipping?"

"Nah. Still working on what your incentive should be."

"Fine. I'll just be here, quietly humping the mattress."

"Hmm. You know, you may be onto something there, Lex."


Hand on his ass, tracing the burning stripe from the belt. "Yeah. You tell me the truth and we'll up the ante a little."

"How so?"

"I'll slip in underneath you, arrange you over my lap, and spank you with my bare hand."

Belly-roll of nauseous lust. Lex blinks it back. "This is incentive?"

Thumb in his cleft, rubbing at his hole. "Yes, it is."

"You're kind of a twisted fuck, aren't you?"

"Takes one." Calm amusement as his thumb slips in just a little.

Lex gasps out a laugh. "Fine, okay, I was having second, third, fourth, and fifth thoughts. I was." Bites his lip, knowing exactly how much he's blushing. "Fucking terrified."

"I know."

"Then why the fuck did you ask?"

"I think you needed to say it."

"Pop-psychology of the drifting top?"

"Whatever works, Lex." And Oz is laying on top of him, moving his legs and arms into mirrors of Lex's position. Kissing his scalp.

Cock hot and hard against the base of Lex's spine. Seemingly content to just rest that way for a while.

The boy's light enough that Lex can get enough air, anyway.

"You're not evil at all, are you."

"You seem surprised. I'll have to tell my father to hire more spin doctors."

"Mmph. DC has a lot to answer for, that's all I have to say."

"You're being cryptic again."

"I know. Think of it as part of the Oz experience. Most people do."

"What are you getting out of this?"

"Beyond the pure carnal joys?" Nuzzles Lex's head.

"Beyond those."

"Hmm. I think most of my answer is part of the general weirdness that we'll be discussing post-coitally. But... I get off on the power trip, as you may have noticed."

"It occurred to me, yes."

"And there's a certain... freedom to being here, with you. I haven't examined the feeling very closely yet, though."

"Do let me know when you do."

"I'll definitely consider it. Let's get you over my knee."

And it's done, far more easily than Lex would've expected. Wonders if he's going to have to get used to people being far stronger than they should be. Adrenaline his hairless white ass.

Which is being stroked almost lovingly even now. God. Incentive, right.

"It's times like these that I regret never learning how to talk dirty."

Something about the sincere and rueful humor just drives home exactly what he must look like right now. Thanks God he's still tied. At least he has that. Buries his face in the pillow to hide his blush.

How the hell does Clark go through life blushing constantly?

"I'll try not to hold it against you."

Subtle shift and his cock is suddenly nestled between slim, hard thighs. Almost as hairless as his own. Thrusts helplessly, once, twice and there's a hard hand on the back of his neck.

"If you come, I won't fuck you."

"Oh, Christ. Use the cockring."


"Jesus. Then let me --"


Breathless with it again, just as though the whole surreal conversation had never actually happened. "God. God, you're a demon, aren't you?"

"Technically, no."

And the first slap is just as good as it shouldn't be, making him jerk, thrust. He doesn't cry out for a long time, and Oz has.

Good hands.

Strong, callused, and apparently up to the... heh. Punishment.

Squeezes his thighs together on Lex's cock too many times for him to count. Pure sadism and every blow is more heat, more pain, more pressure on him to just.

Break wide open.

When he can't bite his lip anymore the moans start coming continuously. He's rising into the slaps and there are tears at the corners of his eyes and Oz is so silent.

Can't even hear him breathing under his own helpless noise. Steady blows falling again and again, and all Lex has to do is spread his legs to get them on his balls.

Makes him scream, toss his head, and there's a thumb in his ass again, just holding him open while Oz slaps his balls again and again.

Yanking at the restraints now and it doesn't do any good, nothing does any good and Oz doesn't stop and doesn't stop and doesn't.


Until Lex realizes that he actually has.

Until Lex realizes that he's sobbing openly.

Leaking and hard as he's ever been and crying and Oz is.

Stroking him.

Petting him like an animal. Even humming a little, low in his throat.

"Please. Please don't..."

"Don't what?"

"I. I can't..."

"We're not done yet."

"Oh God..."

"You're so good, Lex..."


"Yeah. I'm going to fuck you now."


Slips out from under him, and Oz is hard enough that Lex has to estimate his age higher. Far too much control and Lex thinks that if Oz just whispered something in his ear -- anything -- he'd lose it right there. Makes him desperate, more so.

Can't even imagine what this would be like with someone he knew or trusted.

Would he even be able to do it?

Too many images, each more hotly disturbing than the last, and Lex scrambles up on his knees. Doesn't want to risk his cock touching anything. Needs to be fucked now.

Rough hands oddly cool against his ass, and thank God all his boxers are silk.

"How much can you take, Lex?"

Chokes on the sudden need to say anything. Still sane enough to know that's not true. "I. Christ. Need some lube first."

Hears Oz rummaging in the drawer and can't hold in a relieved sigh. Ruthless boy. Man. Whatever.

Two slick fingers in his ass up to the second knuckle, not thrusting, not looking for his prostate. Just there. Out again and back with more slick. Not-quite-perfunctory preparation.

Lex focuses on being relaxed. Easier than he would've thought. Nowhere to go. He's going to get fucked.

Spreads his thighs a little wider, hissing at the way the burn ratchets up another notch. Feverish feel to it spreading through his whole body and he knows he won't be able to take this without noise.

Pride an illusion existing somewhere outside this space where hitchhikers can make Luthors beg and cry for more, better, everything.

Lets his head fall when Oz pulls his fingers out for the last time. He doesn't expect any hesitation and he doesn't get any. Just a slick, hard cock fucking its way into him with merciless precision. Hands on his hips holding him still, but Lex isn't trying to get away.

Every inch something like victory and something like the promise of relief. Feels like he's been hard for decades. Time like syrup and Oz is barely even breathing hard.

Has to cry out when those slim hips nudge up against his ass. Sensitive beyond all reason there and just. Needing it.


Oz pulls out almost all the way and slams back in, yanking Lex's hips back to meet him.

Makes his eyes bulge. Makes it hard to remember how to breathe.

So impossibly good.

Hand on the back of his neck, fingers and thumb squeezing just hard enough to matter. Oz... rocking inside him. Not quite something Lex would do himself to help a fuck get used to the feel of him inside. Closer to just.

Enjoying his ass.

Rake of short nails over his back, again and again, and Lex is breathing almost normally again when Oz pulls out and drives back in, harder this time.

"Fuck --"

"I'm thinking --"

"You're thinking?!"

"Almost always. I'm told it's one of my good traits."

"It's -- oh Christ -- it's annoying."

"That, too. But I'm thinking I want you blindfolded."

"You want me..." Has to laugh and then has to groan. Oz inside him something utterly impossible to ignore. "Second drawer. God, just..."

Oz slips out a little too fast, making Lex yelp a little.

Gets him a slap that he's almost sure he'd resent at any other time.

Hand beneath his chin, tilting his head back. "Hold it there."

The blindfold is a simple strip of black silk, a little too wide, perfect for doubling. But Oz doesn't double it, just lets it fall down over the bridge of his nose.

The light's gone instantly and utterly and Lex knows he's breathing fast again. Ridiculous that this should mean something at this point, but... it does.

Not ready when Oz drives back in, even though he could clearly feel the mattress dipping and moving.

Going to bite his tongue if he isn't careful.

Darkness and darkness and nothing in Lex's world beyond his bound wrists, his aching ass, and Oz's rough, raw fuck. In and in and in, rhythm steady and just this side of brutal, but the pain's barely enough to let Lex focus.

So obviously ready to be taken just like this, and yeah, the humiliation is right there and absolutely priceless. To be a slut in more than his own mocking words for the strangest stranger he's ever come across.

And Oz is holding him absolutely still for it, every thrust this precision blow of pure feeling and no way for Lex to have it any faster or harder than Oz wants him to. Doesn't stop him from struggling, though, and Lex shudders hard at the sound of another one of those purely animal growls.

Fingers digging hard into his hips and the scrape of something that's probably just Oz's fingernail, only it hurts --

"Oh God --"

And something... changes.

Flashes of difference in the way he's being held, in the hair brushing against his ass on every stroke, and God, somehow even in the way he's being fucked.

Another growl and Lex can't hold on to any of it. Oz has shifted angle and it's this close to killing him. Hot bright electric everything now and if Oz says anything else it's lost under the pound of his blood and his own hoarse wails.

On and on and Lex is banging his head on the pillow for more, faster. God, right there and then Oz is hauling him back against him with every thrust. Even less control than he had before, but it's better.


Like being remade into something designed solely for this and Lex knows he's not going to be able to hold back for much longer.

Only thing keeping him in the game is sheer will at this point and that's...

Pretty fucking stupid, actually.

Comes sobbing laughter, collapsing into a rough triangle, ass in the air and just used.

Half-expecting to be scolded for coming before Oz gave his permission, but apparently the man has some limits to his own control. Fucking him with increasingly ragged strokes and growling steadily. His own little wolfboy. How fucking quaint.

Maybe he should be looking around for some of those meteor rocks.

Not that he cares.

Thinks maybe that if he could end every dull day just like this life would be looking immensely more cheerful.

Knows exactly how idiotic his smile is and doesn't give a rat's ass. Pure demon fuck, pleasantly reminiscent of those few times he'd gotten a fingernail in under Bruce's control, yeah, do me.

Maybe even said it aloud because Oz is moving even faster.

Hotter and Lex wonders if the man plans to fuck him right back into another erection.

Definitely possible.

But then Oz drives in one last time and comes hard in his ass with something very much like a strangled howl.


Collapses over Lex's back, panting humid against his ear. Makes him shiver.

"Embracing your inner wolf?"

Makes Oz stiffen above him very, very obviously. "Something like that." And his words are vaguely... slurred.

"Mmm. Just try not to bite me too hard."

Oz chuckles more than the joke should warrant, and Lex is about to put some more effort into turning his brain back on when Oz squeezes his shoulder. "Push out."

Does and exhales shakily at the slippery tenderness inside him. Barebacking it. Hell. Check-ups, here he comes. Just because he doesn't get sick doesn't mean he has to be a complete idiot.

Oh, yeah, he already was.

Absolutely refuses to sink into a brood with his body still just humming with this.

With Oz very thoroughly licking the sweat from the back of his neck, his scalp, his back and --

"Oh fuck --" Barely even two words. More like one and a half.

Tonguing him clean, and Oz's tongue should probably be illegal. Slickly muscular and everywhere Lex needs it at once. Sharp little thrusts interspersed with broad laps up his cleft and down around his balls.

"You're... pretty dedicated."

"Thoroughness is its own reward, Lex." That same oddly liquid slur.

And the next thrust goes impossibly deep, makes Lex arch and moan and shiver. The complete opposite of anything soothing, even though it eases the lingering burn. More of a side-effect than anything else.

Oz apparently intends to spend all night fucking him, and this is just to give his cock a rest.

Groans into the sweat-damp pillow and clutches at the short straps holding the cuffs to the bedposts.

Hand behind his balls, pressing and searching and --

"Oh God too soon too soon --"

"You can take it."

Wordless cry into the pillow and Lex has no idea what he was trying to say. Begging for some utterly incomprehensible thing that's both exactly this and also something like a sensory deprivation tank.

Every nerve on fire and Oz just fucking him this way, knuckling his prostate from the outside and driving him higher and higher.

"I thought... oh fuck... I thought you wanted to do this outside..."

Gasps at the feel of Oz slipping his tongue out so slowly. "We'll get there."

And back in without pause, in and in and in and Lex is getting hard again, helpless to this. Going to need more soon, whether or not he's actually ready for it.

And that's getting to be kind of a theme with Oz.

Who has slipped his free hand around Lex's hip to tease his cock. Not stroke, not pet, not even squeeze. Just these painfully light strokes with those surprisingly sharp nails. Barely enough to feel, much less hurt. Just makes him harder.

Fucking him and touching him and there's nothing to do but give in to it, ride every sensation and just. Lose it.

Shaking in the unrelieved black when Oz finally pulls back for more than a brief pause. Light, casual licks all over his ass and back. The insides of his thighs and up around the shell of his ear. In there, too, for a brief moment.

Hands petting him, stroking him down from wherever he'd gone.

"The sun's gone down." Oz isn't slurring his words anymore.

"All right..."

No further explanation, just Oz undoing the restraints and blindfold and curling up next to Lex. Cock rising from a thatch of ginger hair and eyes shining with a sort of hungry serenity. Lex collapses on his side, gasping at the light brush of cotton against his own cock.

Blinks himself back to something like mindfulness.

"You want to take a break now?"

Toothy smile, right on cue. "Give me your wrists."

Lex sighs, reaches over. "My wrists are your wrists."

Gets them thoroughly licked for his trouble. Sniffed and mouthed and generally enjoyed for long soothing/ arousing minutes.

Square-toothed bites on the abruptly very sensitive insides of one wrist while Oz massages the other with an expert sort of care.

Utterly focused on what he's doing, apparently not caring that he's left himself open to observation.

Pale and thin and lightly freckled. Vine tattoo marching from hip to throat. Steel toe rings and chipped black nail polish. Half-debauched club kid at rest, save that there was very obviously something more there.

And Oz's eyes snap open and focus hard on Lex's own for a long moment of mutual study.

Oz sniffs almost lazily and grins again, a small, almost private one.

"Share the joke?"

"Mm. I'm not sure I understand it yet."

Hops out of bed and stretches, back to Lex. Turns and holds out his hand. "C'mon, let's go live out some adolescent fantasies of mine."

Lex lets himself be tugged out of bed. "Are you going to put any clothes on?"

"Nope. And neither are you."

Lex quirks an eyebrow. "I'm not chained up anymore."

Bright flash in those black-on-green eyes. "You can be."

No way to hide the twitch in his cock, but Oz is only studying him again. Walks back to the night table and pulls out the leash, still handily attached to the simple black leather collar from the last time it had been used.

Ah, Metropolis.

Oz reaches up to fasten the collar on, and Lex is struck by how small the man is. Definitely less than five-five and utterly confident in himself. Soft spikes of hair tickling Lex's cheek.

"I'd blindfold you again, but I want to actually find my way out of this place at some point."

"I can find my way." Out before he can even think about it and Lex narrows his eyes in frustration. Too hard, too worn from this to have anything like control left.

Oz answers him by pulling Lex into a complex nuzzle that never quite becomes the kiss he's expecting. Oz's palm flat to his cheek and Oz's eyes focused on his own. "You sure?"

Asking more than the obvious, and Lex can't quite hate himself for responding to the raw comfort of it. "Yeah. I am." Coughs a little but it doesn't seem to do anything for the hoarseness in his throat.

And Oz kisses his cheek, soft and dry and oddly chaste. Retrieves the strip of silk and bends Lex backwards again to tie it on.

Sets him on his feet and guides him toward the door, and then he's gone.

Except for the lightest of tugs on the leash.

And he does know his way around the Ancestral Pile of Ego, certainly the winter storms have forced him to make his way in darkness more than once, but...

This is different.

Has to force himself to take the first step, legs stiff and... not so much unwilling as abruptly ignorant. If he concentrates on walking he'll lose his way very, very quickly, though, so he edges to the right and puts his hand out.

Too quickly -- jams his fingers a little.

There's not a lot of play in the leash, and his pause to hiss earns him a tug that makes his hands twitch to rip the collar off.

No. No.

He can do this.

Paces his way down the hallway, cursing himself for forgetting to count his steps. It doesn't matter -- when the wall ends, the stairs begin.


Walks in darkness, letting his pace open up a little. The enforced stagger of the terminally horny man. Nothing remotely close to dignity here, though Lex has been told more than once that adding a slight roll, something of a sway to his step is flattering.

Lex has never been much for the feminization aspects, though.

No choice here.

Turns a corner and hits something wooden with his hand almost immediately. Grits his teeth. The Luthor castle's own Portrait Row. Doesn't especially mind walking naked and leashed under the eyes of his ancestry, but it makes things a little difficult, wall-holding-wise.

Tries to remember which ones are his father to bump extra hard, but there's no way to tell. None of them fall, unfortunately.

Another corner, another long hallway and the silence is... oppressive. Thick carpeting muffles his own footsteps and Oz is silent as ever. Only his own breathing noticeable, and anyone, absolutely anyone could be out there.

Tries to remember whether or not he'd let the staff off for the night, but can't think clearly enough to figure it out.

None of them would necessarily say anything...

To them, that is.

Thank Christ none of them are locals.

Right around now he would welcome a tug on the leash, something to let him know he's connected to another human being, even at this rather dubious level of intimacy, but Oz apparently feels that he's behaving.

Has to remind himself that he'd feel the leash slapping against his back and thighs if Oz actually released it.

Which just reminds him of the steady, throbbing burn there.

God, spanked.

Like a child.

Doesn't let himself grab his cock.

Comes to the end of the wall and discovers that he can actually feel the stairs. A greater emptiness in the void of his home. Scrabbles a little for the banister and is almost surprised not to earn a tug for grabbing it. Of course, the evening would be a lot less entertaining for both of them if Lex broke his neck.

Snorts a little and starts his descent.

Completely incident-free, especially since Lex actually remembered to count the steps this time.

Another hall leading into the foyer and Lex's toes curl a little at the chill of stone after all the carpeting. Wonders just how much fun outdoor sex is going to be, spring or no spring.

Has just enough time to gasp when Oz presses his thumb into his cleft before it's in him again, and God, he's still so slick and open and aching . Clenches helplessly around Oz's thumb and lets his head fall back.

"God --"

Gone just as fast and the leash is tugging his forwards. Toward the door. The open door and the first breeze makes him stiffen all over. It's not exactly cold, but it's not as warm as it could be, either.

Struggles a little at the sharp tug, but can't quite bring himself to put his hands on the leash.

Wants this.

Or enough of this that the little indignities...

Smirks at himself. The little indignities, of course, just make it better.

Stumble-walks over the paving and, presumably, toward the car.

It's surprisingly far, far enough that Lex is starting to wonder if Oz hasn't just decided on a good, old-fashioned, fuck in the grass when there's a sharp tug backwards and a hand pressed between his shoulderblades.

"Hands out."

Doesn't hesitate and is glad he didn't, because Oz just slams him down on the car.

Wraps the leash around the collar a few times and pulls.

He can't quite choke Lex so long as the collar's there, but it's enough to make him gasp, make him thrust involuntarily, head of his cock painting a stripe on the Spyder's finish.

"I love your ass."

Smacked hard and his yell breaks something in his throat. Struggles, but Oz's hand comes down hard on the back of his head, forcing Lex to press his cheek to the cool hood. Makes breathing harder, makes his cock jump and the only thought in his head is that they hadn't discussed this.

No more ridiculous than anything else, and Oz's hand comes down again and again, wide-armed swings that make Lex jump and pant.

Reasonably sure that Oz is pulling his swings, but at this point it doesn't really matter.

Hurting now and if he tried to kick he'd just wind up on the ground. No leverage at all and yeah, helpless again.

Tears at the corners of his eyes that don't fall until Lex gives up and spreads his legs wider.

Spanked and groped and clawed at with short, sharp nails until Lex doesn't know where to move. Rolling up into slaps that make him gasp and down far enough that he gets his balls tugged just a little too sharply.

Cock leaking steadily by the time Oz pauses again, and Lex can almost feel him admiring the job he's done.

He's going to spend the next week on pillows and to hell with what the staff says.

Luthor Scion's Tragic Battle With Hemorrhoids, news at eleven.

Laughs a little hysterically, unable to stop even when Oz slips a cool, slick finger inside him.

When the hell had he had time to fetch the lube?

Doesn't matter -- Lex knows he's going to be grateful Oz did sooner rather than later.

Twisting thrusts hard enough to bring him up on his toes, three and out, in with more slick, three and out. Again and again.

Oz's other hand less holding him down than stroking him. Nothing about soothing here, just more of the crude enjoyment of his skin. Fleeting moment to wonder what it would've been like if he'd just taken the whipping and Lex groans, pushes back on Oz's fingers.

No way to hold him still this way, and Lex takes advantage. Fucking himself back and back until Oz pulls out and slaps him again.

"Oh Christ --"


Pushes back again. "Fuck me."

Earns a much harder slap, pain so sharp he thinks he might be bleeding but he *can't* keep himself from rocking back on those fingers, so strong and vicious inside him.

"Please --"

Hears Oz take a deep, shuddery breath. "You're on the edge, aren't you."

"You... oh God you know I am."

Sharp jerk on the trebled leash that jerks him back and down again. "I need to get more lube in you. I'm going to fuck you hard, and I don't want to cause any damage after the last time. You can move, but if you come I'll whip you with the leash."

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"

"Nah. Corpses smell very, very bad."

"And I smell...?"

"Very, very good." Slips out for an awful moment, and back in again fast. Slicker than before.

"Good... to know..."

And Lex does his best not to move, but only manages it for a minute or two. Oz is just too good and his body just too ready for more. Oz's fingers just too short to satisfy.

Hopes to God it was just as frustrating for Oz, but sincerely doubted it. The man has the dedication of a dyke with erectile tissue in her fingers.

Which is a disturbing enough image that Lex manages a modicum of control.

Until Oz starts brushing his prostate.

Unnecessary torture, but all his protests come out moans. Loud in the echoing dark and it's impossible not to spin himself out of his head. Image of how they must look his own private eyelid movie.

Only not so private. Pale hairless man bent over muscle car, ass very obviously spanked. Equally pale but small man behind, working him steadily as he writhes and moans.

Close-up on the blindfold stuck damply to his face.

Close-up on the fingers pushing in and in and in.

Close-up on his mouth, open and ready to be fucked.

"Oz... please I'm not. I'm not gonna last here..."

But Oz just pours more slick directly on his hole and keeps on stretching him and Lex is already rationalizing about how much thinner the leash is than the belt.

It wouldn't be so bad...

Christ, Oz is pretty much guaranteed to make him love it, and so when he pulls out again Lex promises himself that he won't even try to hold back this time.

Which is exactly when Oz slams his cock in to the root, driving Lex up onto his toes and making him howl.

Fleeting thought about just how far sound carries in the country and then Lex has no thoughts left for anything but the sweet, raw, goodness of the fuck.

Sweaty hands slipping on the hood and Oz has dropped the leash to hold Lex's hips steady.

Good thing, because his knees aren't going to stand up to this for much longer.

No growls this time, just sharp pants and the occasional bluntly male grunt of effort. And God, he's been bent over his own car for the use of a random stranger.

Leashed and blindfolded and spanked and fucked and, God, from behind the blindfold the whole world can be out there, silent and watching.

Bruce and Jonathan Kent and his father and Zoe and Clark and Gabe and everyone he's ever seen. Every last one of them hard and wet and aching for a piece of this action.

Piece of his ass.


Cock jetting pre-come at the unadulterated lust in Oz's voice and the only way he can answer is to reach back with one hand and grab the man's ass.

Yank him in harder, faster. Rest his head on his forearm and beg with everything he is.

Pain and pleasure and it's all so fucking sweet.

Can't last. Won't last and screams when Oz wraps a fist around his cock and jerks.

Wordless and lost to it, rhythm gone ragged and wild and --

"Come, Lex..."

"Fuck --" Orgasm ripped out of him by main force and it's like shooting blood. Thick and hot and so good and Oz --


Collapsing over his back and pressing him painfully against the car.

It's absolutely wonderful.

Better when Oz braces his hands to either side of him and starts licking his neck around the leash and collar.

Unbelievable when he starts moving his hips again. Still-hard cock slipping in and out with slow inevitability. Fucking them both down from wherever they'd gotten to.

Lex is boneless by the time Oz pulls out, but Oz is there to steady him. Deftly unties the blindfold with his free hand and the half-moon gives the night a deceptive clarity that makes Lex aware of just how naked he is.

Unwraps the leash and opens the collar himself, bouncing it on his palm when he can finally stand on his own. Watching the rather remarkable boy in front of him watch him right back.

"I think... it's time for a shower. And sleep. Maybe food in there somewhere."

"I could go for that."

Into the house and Lex doesn't bother with any lights. Oz doesn't seem to mind either way. The light from the fridge makes him blink and tear a little, but the muted scent of food is more than enough recompense.

Arranges a tray of meats and cheeses, fully aware that Oz is watching him with amusement from the shadows. Grabs a baguette and tosses it at him, then carries the tray up to the master bath.

They eat while waiting for the tub to fill, and Lex examines his various bruises and welts as much as he's able.

It'll be high-collared shirts for a while. Tiny dot of blood in the bowl of his hip.

Oz nibbles on his fingers between bites of meat, ignoring the bread and cheese altogether. Little animal.

Seemingly perfectly content in the silence.

Works for Lex.

Into the tub and they left it a little too long -- water sloshes over the side in a small wave that makes Oz raise an eyebrow at him.

"Chemistry major. Physics always left me cold."

Oz just nods and sets to washing him, gently and thoroughly. Wants to keep up the wry amusement but it really just feels too good. Finally lays back and lets Oz have his less than wicked way with him.

Wishes he had enough fat on his body to float a little, though. His ass is sore.

Tub big enough for them to move without much awkwardness, but Oz seems to make sure he brushes as much of his body as possible against Lex's as he moves behind him.

Warm, slick boy who licks his ear several times. Sensuous, not sexual. Lex tilts his head to give him better access. Wonderful distraction from the sponge passing over the few welts on his back.

By the time they make it into the bedroom, Lex can barely pull the covers back before passing out.


Oz is already awake by the time Lex blinks his way back to consciousness, watching him with a sort of steady, mild curiosity.

"Mmph. Morning, Oz."


Brushes his hand over Oz's cheek, marveling a little (as always) at the stubble there. Gets his palm licked with no change in expression whatsoever. "So, are we sufficiently post-coital for me to get an explanation?"

"Hmm... I think I want breakfast first."

Lex's stomach rumbles on cue. God, how late had he slept? Was it even a weekend?

Clearly good sex was bad for his intellectual health.

"Breakfast it is."

Finds himself mildly disappointed when Oz starts putting on actual clothing, but the scrape of sheets against his ass is enough to put those thoughts to bed.

Quick, companionable trip through the bathroom and Theo, thank God, has breakfast on steamer plates. For two.


Theo's face, however, is even more expressionless than Oz's, and Lex firmly decides not to think about it.

Lex is midway through his second coffee when he hears voices from the kitchen. Looks across the table to find Oz already on his feet, expressions veering wildly between shock, amusement, and rage.


And Clark bursts through the doors with a smile whose wattage should be illegal this early in the morning. "Special delivery! Well, okay, it's just fruit, but it's organic, and that's pretty special, I think."

Can't help but smile at him. Never can. "Do they put cheerful in the water out here?"

"Yep. But you should try the milk."

Watches Clark notice Oz, notice Lex in his robe, notice Oz, look extremely puzzled... Lex bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "Oz, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. This is Clark Kent."

But when he turns, Oz is focused on the kid just behind Clark. Definitely young, with an almost girlishly pretty face and longish brown hair. White streak too ragged to be anything but natural.

"Oh, that reminds me, Lex, this is Nate." Clark grins over his shoulder at the kid, who's almost rocking on his heels with ill-contained glee. Focused entirely on Oz, and occasionally nodding toward Clark like he's the best thing since applied nuclear chemistry. "... almost didn't get your delivery today, Lex."

Snaps his focus back to Clark. "What?"

Gets another puzzled look that Clark very obviously shakes off. "I was saying that you almost didn't get a delivery. It was the weirdest thing -- all four tires on Dad's truck just kinda deflated themselves as I drove. There didn't seem to be any holes, but... anyway. I was lucky that Nate was driving by. He offered to help me with the deliveries, but I figured if I just got here I could call for a tow. Is that okay?"

"Sure, Clark, and of course I'll drive you anywhere you need to go... deflated?"

"Flat as pancakes. Weird."

And they both seem to notice at the same time that Oz and Nate are just sort of... staring at each other. Very intensely staring. Lex wonders if he should be jealous.

Gets a very curiously timed grin from Nate.


Oz doesn't say anything for a while, and when he does, it's just "hunh."

Lex snorts. "Didn't we talk about the cryptic thing last night? Do you two know each other?"

Oz grins at him over his shoulder. It's really an almost heated grin, and Lex can almost feel Clark's eyebrows crawling into his hairline. He will not laugh, he will not laugh...

"Actually, this is the guy who dropped me off... here." Tilts his head like the RCA dog and then shakes it. "Um. I think I have to motor, Lex."

"I've been exploring the concept of road trips. They go better with company, I'm told." Nate's grin should probably be called a leer. Lex is beginning to miss Theo's stone face.

Blinks himself back to what he hopes will be coherency. "Well, Oz, I can't say you won't be missed... but I hope the metatextual issues of where you're going get resolved at some point." Risks a glance at Clark and is immediately lost in the amazingly complex look on his face. Happiness, guilt, anger, eagerness... the hell? Oh.

Oh, Clark...

Too much input way too soon and Lex isn't about to complain.

Looks back at Oz, but he's gone back to mildly staring down Nate.

Lex scrubs a hand over his head. "Can I offer anybody something? Coffee? Special organic fruit?"

Nate and Oz answer almost in unison: "We're good." And Oz adds, "you know, I'm just going to get my stuff and hit it, Lex." Another little smile. "See you around."

Lex grins back. "I'll look forward to it."

"Oh, and just remember: evil bad, superheroes good. It'll work better that way, I think."

Lex nods slowly. Manages a wave in return to Nate's giggling goodbye. Turns his attention back to Clark once they're gone.

Clark's looking distinctly... pale. "Clark?"

"Hunh? Oh. I. I think I'll have that coffee. Um. If you don't mind?" Nervous. Interesting.

"It's no problem. C'mon, have a seat."

Theo appears almost immediately with a fresh carafe, apparently using those special powers of timing awarded only to servants. Lex watches Clark hunch over his mug and tries to bring his brain back online. Too many mysteries at once.

After a while, Clark looks up at him, jaw set and even more nervous than before. Lex is starting to worry a little.


"Is something wrong, Clark?"

"No. Or... maybe. Um. Have you ever noticed that things in Smallville are kind of... weird?"

The cheek-biting method is not going to work for very much longer, he fears. "Weird, Clark? Do tell..."

And as Clark starts stumbling his way through... whatever he's trying to say, Lex decides that today is going to be a very good day.