Clark awoke to the unexpected sound of arguing. He crept out of bed and, after taking care of his body's morning demands, sat quietly at the top of the stairs. From the sound of things, he needn't have bothered being stealthy; his parents were completely focused on the fight.

"How dare you let that.. that.. Luthor.. make our son into his boy whore!"

"Boy whore? I guess your acceptance of Clark was all just for show. Or is it ok for him to be gay as long as he doesn't have anyone to be gay *with*?"

Clark had never heard his mother sound so sarcastic. Judging by the silence that followed, neither had his father. Sadly, the silence was short-lived as his father stubbornly picked right back up on the one thread Clark feared would tear them all apart.

"I don't care if Clark wants to fuck the goddamned *bull* as long as he isn't being Lex fucking Luthor's little bitch!"

Wow. Sarcasm and swearing. This was definitely the shit hitting the fan. The acid venom in the words eroded their meaning, leaving Clark with only the hazy afterimage and a bad taste in his brain. He knew in a barely-awake sort of way that they were arguing about him, and Lex, but they often did that. The real import of their words was slow to sink into Clark's consciousness, replacing the heavy blanket of sleep with something much colder and heavier.

"The same Lex that you had dinner with last night, whose company you even admitted to enjoying? The one that you yourself said you'd misjudged?"

Yeah. Go, Mom! Lex had never deserved the treatment Jonathan gave him, and she'd always defended him. It didn't really help with the lead weights roiling around in his stomach, but it gave him a glimmer of hope.

"That was before I knew he was sniffing around for a piece of our boy!"

Sniffing? Uh-oh. Had his dad seen something last night? God, he hoped it wasn't in the barn. He felt his heart speeding up, felt himself awakening completely in a rush of adrenaline.

"You'd prefer it if he was coming to visit me?"

"At least you know enough to defend yourself! Clark's too young. He doesn't know what he wants, he's ripe for a man like Lex."

Clark shifted uncomfortably. Should he go downstairs? Keep listening? Go get dressed and pretend nothing was wrong? God, how can one explain lead butterflies, cold and hard and making him feel like he wanted throw up, get up, curl up and die. Something, anything, to make them stop.

"Who else is he going to find in a town like Smallville? You should be glad that Lex obviously cares enough about Clark to put up with you."

She had a point, but it wasn't really the right one. He wanted Lex because he was Lex, not because he was the only gay man within 100 miles. God, even she didn't really see or understand about him and Lex. No one did, not really even the object of his affections, who still seemed to think that his worth was best measured by his bank account.

"Him, put up with *me*?"

"Yes, you. Who is the one screaming fit to bring the house down?"

Even when Clark got lost in his own head for a minute, the fight raged on below. Clark sighed quietly, wondering where all that wonderful glow from last night had gone. Would every morning from now on leave him feeling like this, grey and just... lost?

"But... he's fucking our *son*, Martha!"

Oh Jesus. Jesus Christ on a fucking. Pogo. Stick. He ran his hands through his hair and stood, teetering at the top of the stairs, waiting to see if and when he should intervene. After all, it was *his* life they were arguing about. His feelings, his choices, and his boyfriend.

"And how do you know that? I personally think he's shown remarkable restraint when it comes to Clark, and I sincerely doubt they're already having sex."

His Dad's voice got low and dangerous. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, as far as I know they've only been dating for a few days, and they had their first kiss just the other night."

"You *knew* about this? Why didn't you *tell* me?"

Maybe he'd be better off staying up here. It seemed like this was about to become an argument between them, rather than about him, and he really, *really* did not want to bring the attention back to Lex. And no matter how much adrenaline was pumping through his body, he just wasn't awake enough to deal with his father diplomatically.

"Because I knew you would react just like you are, like an unreasonable, bigoted, prejudiced asshole."

More shocked silence. Clark couldn't believe his mother had just called his father an asshole! Even Martha Kent could be pushed past the point of diplomacy, and Clark felt impressed and somewhat honored that she'd done it for him. God, if only it wasn't his father, if only Jonathan had been able to see past his own blind prejudice instead of stubbornly allowing it to tear them apart.

"I never want to see Lex Luthor on my property again, and that is final."

All pride in his mother's defense drained away at that, leaving only a dull ache behind his breastbone. His father was reacting with predictably stubborn finality. They'd made progress with him last night, but obviously not enough for the shock of Lex dating his innocent, virgin boy.

"Well, you'd better call him yourself and tell him that, because he's supposed to be here in fifteen minutes for the breakfast *you* invited him to."

"There's no need, I heard him quite well already."

Another voice had joined the two downstairs, and Clark's heart contracted in fear. He raced down to try and prevent something truly final from occurring.

When he got to the kitchen, Lex was outside the screen door looking for all the world like he'd been slapped. Martha was standing in front of Jonathan, whose expression said he was about to go looking for his shotgun, or just pummel Lex to death with his fists if that's what it took. He gently but firmly set Martha aside and walked purposefully towards the door.

"Get off my property, Luthor."

"Dad, stop it!" Clark put himself in between Lex and Jonathan, his back right up against the screen door. "I am not your property."

"No, but you're my son, and no son of mine is going to date a Luthor! There's no use denying it, I saw the two of you kissing by the car last night." He'd seen them kissing? God, this was Murphy's Law at its finest. They'd had a circle jerk in the barn in perfect secrecy, but one kiss against the car and they were caught. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them to face his father's wrath.

"I don't deny it. Lex and I *are* dating. I've been attracted to him since he pulled me out of Riley Field. He's smart, mature, gorgeous and he's never been anything but kind to this family. Why shouldn't I date him? Because of his last name? Because he's got money? Because he might find out my deep, dark secrets? Well, guess what. I don't care about his last name *or* his money, and he already knows my secrets."

Clark's father had been turning redder and angrier throughout the speech. By the end of it, he was purple with rage. He spoke very slowly and softly. "How does Lex Luthor know your secrets?"

"I told him."

"You *what"!?" This was the expected explosion, and Clark was braced for it. He straightened his shoulders and stiffened his resolve, using his body to shield Lex from the angry, hateful glare. He hoped that Lex would stay silent and let Clark deal with this, if it could be dealt with at all.

"They're my secrets to tell. Just like it's my decision whether or not to date him, kiss him, or even fuck him, although just for the record we haven't done that yet."

"*Yet*!? You plan on... on... with *him*?"

"Someday, when I'm ready, yes." Clark had no idea where this reservoir of calm certainty was coming from, but for once, he knew he wasn't going to back down. Not about this. Lex didn't deserve to be treated like this, and Clark wasn't going to let anyone, not even his father, do it in front of him ever again.

"Not while you're living under my roof!"

"Then I won't live under your roof. I'm sure Lex can find me a spare room up at the castle." He felt Lex's hand pressing against his back through the thin screen of the door. The fingers were cold, but the palm was warm and reassuring.

"If that's how you feel, then you can just get out. Now."

Clark looked past his father to his mother, standing next to the table looking shellshocked. "I'm sorry, Mom. I promise, we'll take care of your rose trellis. And you can always come visit us, right, Lex?"

"Of course, Clark. Any member of your family is welcome in my home at any time. As long as there are no firearms involved."

"You just shut up, Luthor," Jonathan interrupted. Clark had never seen his father being this petty, this stubborn. Whatever reasons he had for hating Lionel Luthor must be huge ones, if he was letting them tear his family apart.

"I'm going now, Dad. I'll come back later for some clothes and things. But I want you to think about what you're doing. Is it worth destroying your family because of something Lex's father did however many years ago? Something you're too ashamed or afraid of to even explain to me?"

Clark turned and left, his heart heavy and sad. Today had not gone as planned, he thought, trailing after Lex on bare feet. He got in the passenger side of the Ferrari in a daze, and Lex silently started up the car. It wasn't until they'd pulled into the garage at the manor that Lex turned to him and spoke.

"I'm sorry, Clark. I never meant for you to have to choose."

Clark reached out blindly, his eyes filling with tears. "I never wanted to choose, Lex, but you've proven over and over again that you care about me more than whatever bad blood is between the two of you. My Dad would rather hold tight to his grudge against your father than see me happy. It wasn't much of a choice, in the end."

Uncomfortable and awkward, they embraced over the console. Lex held and tried to soothe him, but the feeling of just having woken up to something horrible wouldn't go away. Clark felt greasy and gritty from his face to his now-dusty feet, and the ache in his chest had spread to his head.

He pulled away a little, planting an awkwardly chaste kiss on Lex's lips before asking, "So, Lex, you got any shampoo in this pile? 'Cos I just woke up and I feel gross."

Lex laughed, the tension edging towards hysteria. "Yes, Clark, I do in fact keep shampoo in the castle. I even have some in my bathroom. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Lex left Clark alone while he showered, thankfully sensitive enough to see that Clark wasn't ready for that kind of intimacy this morning. Clark felt like his whole world had fallen apart, over a boyfriend he wasn't sure he could ever make love to. Ever touch with anything resembling passion, because he was afraid he'd slip and end up hurting the one person he cared about most in the world.

Well, Lex and his Mom. She was pretty high on his list, still, although thank goodness not in nearly the same way. God, and how was he going to explain to Chloe, and god forbid Pete, that he was living with Lex now? He stood there for a long time, letting the unexpected luxury of infinite hot water soothe him when nothing else would.

After a remarkably long while, he heard a knock at the bathroom door. "Clark, are you all right in there?"

"Yeah, Lex, I'm fine. Just trying to drown my sorrows in hot water, I think."

Lex's chuckle echoed strangely in the bathroom, muffled by the door but reflecting on the tiled walls. "All right, Clark. Take as long as you want. I found some clothes that might fit you, whenever you're ready to come out."

Suddenly all his bashfulness seemed foolish. "Why don't you just bring them in here? It's not like you didn't see pretty much all there is to see last night."

Clark turned off the shower, only a little reluctantly, and stepped out into the steamy room. The door creaked open, and Lex's voice echoed louder. "Are you sure, Clark?"

Clark grinned and grabbed a towel. "Yes, Lex, I'm sure. Get in here and look your fill, I know you've been dying to see me naked."

Lex laughed and stepped into the room. He made no attempt to hide it as he took in Clark's naked form, and Clark tried not to feel self-conscious as he dried off. When he turned around to prop a foot on the tub rim and dry his leg, he heard Lex's bare feet padding over to him. A soft towel brushed gently over the small of his back.

"You missed a spot." A pause, and Clark turned to look at Lex. "God, Clark, you're more beautiful than I imagined."

Lex's hand drifted upwards, almost like he was underwater. Gentle fingers cupped Clark's cheek, cool and dry against Clark's damp shower-warmed skin. Lex leaned in, and Clark met him halfway, arms going around, drawing Lex to him despite the water still beaded on his body.

"I'm glad I trusted you, Lex," he whispered, just before their lips met. Despite how things had turned out, they would be all right. Clark knew, if only in that one endless moment, that Lex would take care of him, of them, and make sure nothing got in their way.

That statement seemed to change something in Lex, because his kisses this time were fierce and possessive. Slender, strong fingers tangled in Clark's hair, pulling his head back as Lex drew away and looked searchingly into his eyes.

"Clark, I think..."

One last fierce kiss, and Lex was backing out the door. "I... we... We have to talk, Clark. About... you trusted me with all your secrets, left your home and family for me." Lex paused in the doorway, looking unsure, off-balance. "Get dressed. It's about time I told you some of mine."

Clark slipped into silk boxers that were snug on his hips, feeling his cock stir at the thought of Lex's hips in the same place. Then sweat pants, only a little short in the leg, and a t-shirt that was tight across the chest but otherwise comfortable. One last swipe of the towel over his hair and a halfhearted finger-combing later, Clark was outside with Lex, sitting on the edge of the bed, lead butterflies back in his stomach.

Whatever Clark had been expecting to hear, the litany of petty and sordid sexual exploits which followed wasn't it. Lex had used his body over and over again to cement deals for his father, hoping for a single word of approval, an ounce of fatherly love. He'd then gone and drowned his shame and sorrow in yet more meaningless sex, this time in a myriad of clubs, and under the influence an endless variety of chemical substances.

The picture he painted put lie to the image of self-assurance and cool confidence that Clark had of his best friend. Lionel had spent years eroding Lex's sense of self-worth with his demands, cementing his control over his son by withholding the love or even praise that Lex was seeking. Clark couldn't imagine what it would be like to grow up with a father like that, couldn't even begin to picture life without the loving support his parents had shown him.

Even this latest rift between him and his father had its roots in love and concern. All Lex had ever gotten from Lionel were mind games, power plays and training exercises. Clark pulled Lex to him, pulled them both up to curl against the pillows. All thoughts of sexiness -- or even nervousness about being in Lex's bed with him -- were banished by the need to comfort Lex, to let him know that he was cared for, and valued.

The shady business dealings, up to and including Lex's involvement with the Nicodemus flowers, were almost anticlimactic. Just things he'd learned how to do from his father's example, and even with that example Lex had known deep down that there was another, better way. When Lex finally wound down, the painfully honest expression of shame, guilt, and self-loathing on his face demanded that Clark give him only one answer. He took Lex's face in his hands carefully, forced Lex's eyes up to meet his own earnest gaze.

"No matter what you've done before, no matter what either of our fathers says or does, I love you, Lex. Not your money, not your body, not what you can do or have done. You."

Tears that had barely even threatened before came spilling silently out of Lex's eyes, two thin lines of bitterness tracing down his cheeks. Even those were hard-won, and were followed not by more tears but possessive, almost angry kisses. Clark's mouth was ravaged, and suddenly every point at which Lex's body touched his own seemed like it was being touched by a live wire, electric desire running through his frame.

Lex pulled back, locking his gaze with Clark's. "Are you sure, Clark? Loving me is no easy task. I'm dishonest, I shove people away, I'm needy and manipulative and cruel."

"Yes, Lex, I've met you, remember? I know all those things, but I'm still here. And yes, I'm quite sure I love you, because only love would make me willing to face my Dad after walking out like that." It was a small joke, but it seemed to do the trick. The tension broke, and Lex smiled. Not his most sincere or joyful smile, one equally filled with pain and irony, and it was one of the most open expressions Clark had ever seen on his face.

"Good. Because no matter how I've tried not to be, I think I'm in love with you, too. But I don't really know, because you're nothing like my mother."

They both laughed at that, the edge of hysteria not far away. "I think that's probably a good thing, Lex. Otherwise I'd have to start calling you Oedipus."

"Ooh, farm boy pulling out the Greek tragedies!" Evidently, confession and declarations of love made Lex feel childish.

"Watch it, rich boy, or you'll be sorry!" Clark wasn't sure where this was going, but he figured it was healthier than the Scotch Lex usually drowned his sorrows in.

"Oh yeah, you and what army?"

"I don't need an army. I've got..." Clark reached behind him and grabbed at the first thing he found. He brought it out in front of him and brandished it at Lex. "A Pillow!"

Ten breathlessly childish minutes later the bed was a mess and they were back to necking. They curled together and tried to suck one another's brains out through their tonsils, and Clark had a moment of bizarre clarity that this, this harmless going-nowhere necking had never been a part of Lex's teenage years. Somehow that made it more exciting to him. Amazed that he could give Lex anything new, offer him something he couldn't or wouldn't find in anyone else's arms.

Their necking grew more frantic, shyness and restraint and even fear not much of a match for two young male libidos. Hands roamed up under shirts, which soon were discarded. Bare feet tangled and caressed in a strange reflection of the hands' erotic touches. Sweat gathered and pooled, passion heated up, mouths tasted and nibbled and kissed.

They were far into territory Clark had never traversed, heading towards places he hadn't even glimpsed, and he was becoming lost in the sensation. One of Lex's hands drifted down, cupped and squeezed Clark's aching cock, and he arched, grabbing at Lex's arms. Lex cried out, not in pleasure this time but in startled pain, and his world stopped.

"Lex! Oh god, Lex are you ok?" Clark let go, pulled back, pulled completely away. He tried to use his x-ray vision, but it wouldn't come, he just couldn't concentrate. All he got for his efforts was a return of the earlier headache.

"Clark, I'm fine; you just startled me. Clark. Clark!" Lex was snapping his fingers in front of Clark's eyes. "Clark, it's ok. I'm fine, it's just a bruise. Nothing's broken, I'm not really hurt, you just surprised me."

"God, Lex, I... I'm sorry. I guess we should wait until I can get this strength of mine under control." Clark scooted further away, scanning the room for his shirt. His ardor was completely quelled, the fear that he'd hurt Lex driving all thoughts of sex out of his mind.

He gave up on the shirt and just slumped at the edge of the bed, head in his hands. All his earlier doubts came rushing back, and not even Lex's soothing hand between his shoulders really helped. His stomach felt empty and full of cold sharp things at the same time, his head pounded and his heart felt fluttery and somehow raw.

"Do you really think we can do this, Lex? Does love conquer even things like this?" Lex was silent for long moments before he came to sit beside Clark. Waited even longer for Clark to look up, over, and meet his eyes.

Lex's steady grey gaze was warm and comforting as he replied, "Ours will."

continued in Out, Chapter 9: Reality Bites