Corner of the World 16: Nightmares

The glass slipped from Clark's grip. Hands shaking, he tried to catch it before it hit the floor. He snagged it, fumbled, dropped it, caught it, then dropped it once more. The glass managed to elude him and crashed against the tiles loudly.

"Dammit!" he swore softly. Hands still trembling, vision blurred by tears, he knelt, picking up the sharp shards.

/ At least I can't get cut / he thought a tad wildly.

"Clark?" Martha said from the door.

Clark sniffed hard. "Hey, Mom."

"Honey, what's wrong? Leave it." She was at his side, suddenly, stroking his hair.

"Nothing. I ..."

"Let's go into the living room, ok?"

He nodded, a few tears escaping from his eyes. "Ok." Slipping his hand into his mother's, Clark followed her.

She sat on the couch, wrapping a quilt around them. Pulling Clark down so his head rested on her shoulder, Martha asked, "What's going on? Are you having nightmares?"

"Yes," he replied in a quiet voice.

"Tell me about them."

Clark shook his head. "No. It's ok, I ..."

"Clark," she said warningly.

Sighing, Clark sniffed again, and relaxed against his mother. "Remember when I was nine? The nightmares I had then? How I kept dreaming that I was lost, or you were going to leave me somewhere, or forget about me? Or that ... that I was stuck in a room, not able to get out?"

"Are these dreams like that?"

"Kind of. But ... but now _he's_ always there."

"Who?"

"Lionel Luthor," Clark whispered.

Martha went very still under the quilt. Clearing her throat, she asked, "Why do you think he's there, honey?"

Clark coughed, and wiped his eyes. "Lana said he was asking questions about me. And I'm afraid he's going to try and do something to me. Take me away, or hurt you and Dad. Or Lex."

"Have you told Lex about this?"

"No."

"Honey ..."

"I can't. It's stupid. What am I going to tell him? That I've been having bad dreams because his dad was asking questions about me?"

"Clark, you have a legitimate reason to be concerned. Lionel Luthor is a very powerful man. He must have some reason for asking questions about you. We can only hope it's just because you and Lex are together, and he wants to learn more about you. But I think it's probably better to treat this as a real threat. Lex might be able to help. And," she ran her hand through his hair again, "it might help your dreams if you've taken some sort of action. Even if it is just telling Lex."

Clark wiped his eyes. "I just feel stupid."

"Don't. Lex loves you. He'd want to knew something like this."

"But ... but they're just dreams." His breath began to hitch in his chest.

She kissed his temple. "You've looked exhausted for almost two weeks. These are not 'just dreams.' You need to talk to him."

"Can I go over right now?"

Martha was silent for a long moment, obviously thinking. Shaking her head, she finally answered, "No."

"But Mom, I ..."

"Clark, I can't give you permission to go over to your boyfriend's house in the middle of the night. I know that you're scared, and I know it would help you to talk to him, but he's your boyfriend. If he were a girl - if he were Lana - I would never allow you to go over. You're fifteen. It would feel too much like I was giving you my permission to have sex."

Clark squirmed and pulled away. His stomach was doing slow flips. Not looking at her, he said, "We're not having sex."

"Clark ..."

"We're not, Mom," he insisted, cheeks burning. "And, even when we were, you pretty much knew."

"Knowing what you're doing, and giving you my permission to do it are entirely different things," she said gently. "It's a fine line, but I have to cling to it. Otherwise, I feel as if I'm failing as a parent."

Clark chewed on his thumb. "You're not ... you're not disappointed in me. Are you?"

Martha brushed a curl off his forehead. "I could never be disappointed in you, sweetie. Sleeping with Lex was a choice you made. As long as you're happy, I won't say anything. I haven't the right; it is your life. But it's my choice to set limits on when you may sleep with him."

Clark glanced at her. Her cheeks were slightly red.

"You're my son, a minor, and under the age of consent. I trust you enough to make decisions that are right for you, but sometimes I do know best. I want you to be home at two am on a school night. There are laws."

"When I'm sixteen ..."

"When you're sixteen, there will still be sodomy laws. Of course, I don't agree with them, so that's really a moot point. And yes, you will be over the age of consent, but you will still be my son and my responsibility. We'll see what happens then."

Sighing, Clark nodded. "I understand," he said softly. He did; he didn't like it, but he understood. Glancing at the clock, Clark said, "I think I'm going to call him."

"Now?"

"He said call him any time." He lifted the phone from the cradle, then looked at his mother. "Can I ... can I be alone?"

Martha stroked his cheek. "Are you going to be all right?"

He nodded.

Rising, she looked at him seriously. "Come up and get me if you need me. Ok?"

"Ok. Thanks."

"I love you, honey," Martha said as she walked back up the stairs.

"Yeah, me too, Mom."

Clark turned back to the phone and dialed Lex's home number. It rang three times before someone answered.

"Luthor residence. This is Damien Walters, speaking." His tone was business-like, but his words were blurred by sleep.

"I'm sorry!" Clark exclaimed, mortified. "I was trying to call Lex. I didn't know ... he said ... I'm really sorry. I'll go ..."

"Wait! Mr. Kent, stay on the line," Damien said quickly, sounding more alert.

"How did you know it was me?"

Damien laughed softly. There was rustling on the other end of the phone. "Only you would be in such a panic at getting me this late."

"Why are you answering the phone? I mean, he told me to call, but he made it sound like I'd be getting him."

"He probably assumed you would. However, I've turned off the ringer to his phone. Mr. Luthor has been rather tense of late; I thought it best I screen his calls."

Clark chewed on his thumb. "Oh. I'm sorry I woke you."

"Don't be. This is what I am here for. And do not be deterred from calling in the future. He will always take your calls."

Clark heard a soft tap.

"One moment, Mr. Kent."

He heard Damien talking; then Lex. Lex sounded groggy. Damien said something else; Lex reacted, voice sharp.

"Clark?" Lex's voice came on the line, sounding alarmed.

"Hi. Yeah, it's me," Clark said uncertainly.

"Are you ok?"

Clark shook his head. "No, I ... I've been having nightmares. Not sleeping well. I couldn't sleep tonight."

There was a rustle of sheets. "What are your nightmares about?"

"Uh, it sounds stupid."

"Just tell me, angel."

Sighing, Clark said, "I'm in my room. Usually, I'm with you. We're talking, or making-out or something, when there's this noise outside. Then, the roof flies off, and your dad's helicopter lowers so it's right over us. A big claw comes and grabs me, and I can't get free. And then, your dad jumps out and starts hitting you and I can't help you because I'm trapped. Then, he hits your head so hard it bursts open, and it's so horrible and there's blood and ... stuff, and ... and I can't get to you because I'm trapped, but I have to watch and your dead. And then he ... he jumps back onto the helicopter and we fly off. We fly far, farther than I've ever been. So far I don't know where I am and I'll never get home. And there's no one else there. Then he ... he ... he drops me. And I'm alone and lost and he flies off and just leaves me there and I can't get home and you're dead, and I don't know where my parents are and I'm so alone and..."

"Clark! Clark!" Lex was shouting over the line, but Clark didn't hear him. He was crying too hard.

And then, in his mind, he heard a loud / Clark! Stop it! /

He jerked in surprise, almost dropping the phone. The images that were so fresh in his mind began to fade as Lex forced them away somehow. Clark couldn't explain it; all he knew was suddenly there was a lot less nightmare and a lot more Lex.

Taking a deep breath, Clark wiped his eyes. "I'm ok."

Lex let out a shaky breath. "You scared me." He pulled out of Clark's mind.

"Sorry."

"No, angel. It's ok." Lex sighed. "That's not going to happen."

"You don't know that."

"First of all, no helicopter can fly that far. Second, Dad's not going to find anything that's strong enough to hold you. Is he?"

Clark sighed. "No. I guess not."

"He won't. And as for the rest ... he's not going to kill me."

"He might."

"But he doesn't want to kill me." Lex hesitated. "Did I tell you he sent Damien a check for fifty thousand dollars?"

"What?"

"It came last week. It's legitimate, too. I checked to make sure Dad wasn't trying to frame Damien for anything. I even went to Metropolis and bullied Dad's assistant." Lex laughed softly, almost bitterly. "Apparently, it was his way of saying thank-you."

Clark blinked. "For what?"

"For stopping him that night."

"Oh." Clark lay back on the couch. "I didn't think he wanted to be stopped. I mean ... I thought he would be angry."

Lex cleared his throat. "I guess he calmed down. I thought he would be angry too, but then the check came. Damien said he thinks it's because Dad was out of control that night, and Damien stopped him from doing anything he'd regret." Snorting, he added caustically, "Apparently, I'm too valuable an asset to kill just yet."

"Maybe he does really love you."

"Maybe. I doubt it, but you never know." Lex sighed. "What brought all this on? Was it just that night, or is something else bothering you?"

Clark chewed on his thumb again. "Your dad was askingquestionsaboutme," he mumbled.

"What?" Lex's voice was sharp.

"Asking questions. About me. At Christmas. He was asking Nell and Lana." It felt strangely good to get it off his chest.

Lex swore. "How long have you know this?"

"Uh, since school started. About two weeks."

"God dammit! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you."

"Clark, I need to know things like this. If my dad is planning something, I want to be able to counter him. You can't hide information like this from me!"

Clark scrunched into the corner of the couch. "I'm sorry! I just ... I thought I could handle this. I'm strong. I can take care of myself."

"You don't understand how my father works. If he decides to attack, he won't do so directly. He'll go where it hurts."

"Where would that be?"

Lex sighed. "I don't know. Probably ... I don't know. But I'll figure it out." He sighed again. "Are you ok?"

Clark nodded. "Yeah. I just wish ... I want to be with you right now."

"I want to be with you too. Can you come over tomorrow? I mean, uh, today? Friday night; your curfew isn't until midnight. We can spend the whole evening together."

"Of course."

"Good." Lex was silent a moment. "You're still coming to the gala Sunday, right?"

"Are you sure you want to be seen with me? In public, I mean?"

"I think I can keep my hands off you long enough to keep up appearances. Remember, I'm taking you shopping for clothes beforehand; I should have plenty of time to maul you before then."

Clark blushed.

"I can hear you blushing, you know," Lex taunted.

Clark cleared his throat. "I'm not blushing."

"Yes, you are. And you're thinking dirty thoughts of you and me, alone together in a dressing room while I run my hands all over you, making sure each outfit is the perfect fit."

"Lex," Clark said softly, squirming on the couch.

"Am I turning you on, Clark?"

Licking his lips, Clark whispered, "Yes."

The sheets rustled over the line again. "Where are you now?"

"In the living room."

"Is there a phone in your room?" His voice was suddenly suggestive.

Clark face grew hot, the warmth traveling down his body, heading for his groin. "No. But there's one in my old room."

"Do you want to go there?"

"Yeah. Hold on." Dropping the phone, Clark raced to his old room, picked up the phone, whizzed to the living room, hung up, then practically flew back to the bedroom. "I'm here," Clark said. He felt breathless, but not from running. Sitting on the bed, he fidgeted a bit, heart fluttering with anticipation.

"What are you wearing?"

"My pajamas."

Lex snorted. "You have to work with me angel. I can't do it all myself."

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Be naked."

Clark peeled his pajama's off, then lay back on the bed. "Ok."

"What are you wearing, Clark?" Lex asked, his voice throaty.

He tried to bite back a laugh, but a snicker escaped.

"Clark!"

"I'm sorry!" the giggling teen exclaimed. "I just ... it's weird, that's all."

/ How's this? /

Clark's giggles abruptly died as Lex's voice reverberated through his mind. It was warm and commanding, spreading heated arousal though his veins. "Oh," he breathed. His cock stirred.

/ I can feel you. Your skin, your lips. Your nipples. Do you want me to touch them? /

"Yes," Clark hissed.

Nothing happened.

"You have to do it yourself, Clark," Lex said out loud; his voice was strained. "I haven't figured that part out yet."

Raising one hand to his chest, Clark began to fondle his nipples gently. He dragged his fingertips across them first, just testing. Then, licking the tips of his fingers, he began to knead his right nipple, bringing it to hardness.

Lex began breathing heavily over the phone and in his mind. Clark's stomach was clenching convulsively as he felt Lex toy with his own nipples.

/ I'm teasing it between my fingers. / Lex said breathily in Clark's mind. / Kneading it until it's hard and aching. I ... Jesus Christ!/

Clark's body arched slightly off the bed as he pinched his nipple hard. A white-hot flash streaked through both their bodies. They gasped, both achingly erect.

"More," Clark gasped. "I want you ... I want you to touch me."

/ I'm sliding down your body. Your cock ... fuck, Clark, I can feel it. Feel you. In you. You're so hard. Touch yourself. /

Clark took his throbbing cock in his hand, and squeezed gently. Lex sighed in his mind.

/ Push your foreskin back. I mean, I'm pushing you... fuck, just do it! Yes! Now, tease it between your fingers, slowly. /

The teen moaned softly. He didn't know what was more erotic: the feel of his hands on his twitching cock, Lex's sighs and moans in his ear over the phone, or the desperate mental orders Lex was giving him, pleasure wracking both their bodies with tremors as the older man sank deeper and deeper inside him.

/ Just ... just fuck your hand, Clark. Pretend it's my mouth. Pretend I'm on my knees in front of you, and your cock is in my mouth, and you're thrusting hard, just fucking me. Just ...yes. Harder! Clark, harder! That's. Right. /

The bedsprings were squeaking as Clark thrust into his hands. Mindful of his parents, he quickly slid off the bed, laying on the floor. Sweat was beading along his hair line; he bit his lip, concentrating on Lex. Lex's shadowy image was beginning to appear in his mind's eye, the bedroom fading around him.

Lex was kneeling, one hand in his mouth, sucking on his fingers. The other was caressing his cock with fast, hard strokes.

Shifting, Clark rose to his knees, imitating Lex's stance. They were facing each other, their cocks almost touching on whatever astral plane they were in. If Lex had been solid, Clark would have pulled the smaller man against him, swallowed his dripping cock, and sucked until Lex came. But they couldn't touch each other, and Clark as too afraid of breaking the connection if he tried. So, he squeezed his eyes tighter, facing Lex, and began sucking on his own fingers, imitating his lover.

Lex's eyes were closed as he concentrated on keeping the connection, a look of ecstasy on his face. Clark knew exactly what he was feeling. The sensations flooding through Lex were flooding through Clark, and those flooding through Clark were flooding through Lex, and neither man could tell who was doing what to make them feel like that, but they didn't care because it felt too good.

They were both moaning softly now. Clark stroked down his cock until he was rolling his balls in the palm of his hands.

His bones turned to quicksilver. He began shaking as his orgasm drew near, his hand moving faster, strokes rougher.

"Lex," he whispered, groaning. Keeping one hand on his cock, the other began traveling back to his ass, until he was caressing the oh-so-sensitive area around his opening.

Lex was doing the same, whimpering Clark's name.

"I've got to ... I'm going to ..." Clark ground out over the phone as his fingers began sliding inside his body.

It was over when Lex imitated Clark's action. Clamping their mouths tight, both men screamed their pleasure over the link, sunbursts exploding behind their eyes.

Shaking, they fell back. Clark climbed back on the bed, rolling onto his stomach, breathing deeply as adrenaline began coursing through him. He kicked and punched the bed, trying to get it out without destroying anything. His breaths were coming in shaking sobs as he bit the comforter, rubbing his sensitive skin against the soft material.

Without warning, a cool blanket descended over his mind. Trickling down over his neck, it spread through his body, a cool river rushing though his veins, chasing away the desperate heat. His heart began to slow, and his breathing became calm and even.

Clark sighed, and melted into the comforter. With a limp hand, he picked up the phone he'd dropped, bringing it to his ear.

"Was that you?" he asked languidly.

"Mm-hmmm. I thought it might calm you down."

Clark yawned, stretching. Lex had left his mind, but Clark could still feel a small piece of him there. As if a part of Lex would always be with him.

"It worked." Clark sighed, rubbing his cheek against the comforter. Pulling himself to the head of the bed, he slipped beneath the covers, curling into a ball so he fit on the bed.

"Do you feel better?"

"Yes." Clark yawned.

"Do you think you can sleep now?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust that I'm going to take care of you?"

He sighed. "Yes."

Lex laughed softly. The sound washed over Clark, causing him to stretch and sigh.

"Good. Because I will." Lex yawned. "I'll let you go to sleep, now. Come over after school lets out, ok? I'll be waiting."

"Ok." Clark yawned again. "I love you."

"I love you too, angel. Good-night."