Notes: Originally part of the SV Flash Fiction challenge, with a prompt from Zephyr9: Based on the movie "Indecent Proposal": Lex offers Clark a million dollars for one night with him (circumstances are up to the writer)

Dedicated to Kormanfan, for a perceptive beta, all-round general wonderfulness, and the inside scoop on 7-11s. And also to TynantBlue0162, who listened to my rants of DOOOOOM and called this whole story a piece of clich-ridden crap. That's my girl ;-)

Clark pushed his face up against the glass and tried to see the street far below. He couldn't get his head to angle directly down, no matter how hard he mashed his nose up against the window. He stopped only when he heard the triple-glazed re-enforced glass start to creak with the strain. It was cool against his still-overheated skin, and he breathed deeply to hear the sound of it in the sudden, insulated silence. It had been a long, ridiculous day of college hassles and complicated rescues, where disaster had turned to mayhem and then slipped right past his gaping face into the realm of the completely fucking bizarre. He'd spent the morning being verbally attacked by his psycho lit professor, then the afternoon being physically attacked by several small children and an enraged racoon. And then he'd had to come here, to a buttoned-up schmooze-athon Lex had been planning for weeks. Lex had been so busy organizing the damn thing that Clark hadn't seen him in ages, and now that he was here, he felt even further away than before. He'd quickly grown sick of false politeness and glimpses of Lex's party-face across the room, and had ducked out to get some peace.

A wave of sound from the party in the next room signalled a new arrival. Clark turned and smiled at Lex before tilting back toward the window. The door behind him closed and once again silence filled the vacuum in the room.

"You escaped."

"Yeah. I'm a deserter." He shot a grin at Lex and got one in return like a bargain sealed. "Sorry. I'll be back out in a minute." Clark felt jittery, and he tapped a non-rhythm with his short nails against the steel rail in front of him as Lex approached.

"Take your time. I think the vamps have done enough bloodsucking for one night." Clark never knew what to call the shape of Lex's mouth when he leaned in close and sparkled all over him like this, lips pursing and smiling at the same time. Lex knew how to use that smile, and had done countless times this evening, scattering it over society belles and business colleagues at will. Lex had learned to schmooze from the cradle, and he'd only got better at it over time. He'd somehow learned to extract the menace from his smiles, even when he felt it. He'd mastered the art of covering up everything about himself that wouldn't appear attractive to the average investor or banker, the internment of his juvenile record only the most obvious part of his transformation to everybody's favourite young billionaire. Clark liked to think there was something different about Lex's smiles when he meant them, though he worked hard at suppressing his nostalgia for the more shark-like variety of Lex-grin that was deemed no longer appropriate by its newly respectable owner.

Lex turned away and pointed his smile at the city below, though Clark refused to feel any more bereft.

"So what happened to Katherine Blake, Clark? She seemed quite taken with you. I think Dad might have been jealous."

Oh, God. Mrs. Blake - Katherine - had indeed been 'taken' with him. Seriously taken. Clark had - rather heroically, he thought - refrained from igniting her hair the twelfth time she had put her hand on his ass and squeezed, but had snapped at unlucky thirteen.

"She's gone home. I told her to go home."

Mild surprise in Lex's expression. "You told someone to go home? That's not very polite, Clark."

Neither were the propositions she'd made. Clark refused to feel guilty for telling her to back off. Katherine Blake did not need his pity, nor his consideration. She was a good twenty-five years his senior, countless millions richer, and considerably better dressed.

"She - uh - she came on to me." Clark slanted his eyes sideways to check out Lex's reaction. Nothing but placid confusion.

"Clark. Everyone comes on to you. That's how it goes. You go out in public; people hit on you. You have to be used to it by now."

Quick dart of... something... at that. Not pleasure. No. The uncomfortable, suppressed cousin of pleasure.

"She offered me a million dollars to sleep with her."

Clark held his breath and waited, eyes on the bright columns of the Electro-Com towers across town. Waited for Lex's reaction. Waited for...

...laughter. Lex was laughing. Clark turned wounded eyes on him.

"Oh my God, Clark. She did what?" More laughing. "That is so tacky." He was actually holding his stomach at this point. "What did you say to her?"

This was so far from the reaction Clark had expected that he wasn't sure what to say.

"I... I said no. She looked sorta sad, and then a bit mad, and then she left. Are you okay, Lex? You're not... angry, or something?"

Lex was still laughing. If Clark hadn't been feeling the beginnings of a weirdly indignant version of anger, he would have been fascinated. He hadn't seen Lex laugh like that in years.

"I can't believe she did that. Oh, Clark. I'm sorry." Lex was struggling to recover, his face still contorted in helpless laughter. "I thought she had more sense than that. What was she thinking trying that with you?"

Clark frowned. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

A soft knock and a slide of a door on carpet interrupted them.

"Mr. Luthor? You have a call. It's the Tokyo office."

Lex patted Clark's arm and walked toward his office. "Sorry, Clark. Won't be long. Feel free to stay in here. Wouldn't want you falling victim to any other predatory women this evening."

Then he was gone and Clark was alone with his view. And his anger. His mysterious, rootless anger. He should be relieved, right? He had been expecting Lex to make a big deal out of all this, to yell and kick stuff like he used to. It wasn't like Lex had learned to control his temper any better than he used to. It was only last week that he'd trashed his flatscreen tv when Lionel was on the news announcing a Luthorcorp expansion. But, now that he thought about it, Lex didn't really get angry on Clark's behalf anymore. Oh, he still got plenty angry with Clark, even through their unspoken truce on the 'secrets' issue. He'd been mad at him just this evening, in fact, when Clark had kept prodding at him for information on the new woman Lex was seeing. That had been a mess he should have avoided. He should have known by now that talking to Lex about women never made for a comfortable conversation. But he'd been worried, and it was always sensible to be worried about Lex's love life. Lex didn't see it that way, however, and he'd eventually told Clark to butt the fuck out. It hadn't been pleasant, but it had blown over pretty quickly, leaving them pals again for the party.

And now everything was weird again. Or rather, it wasn't weird, which was the weird part. Lex wasn't mad. He wasn't all worried or protective or jealous like a good friend would be.

Woah. Um... yeah. Good friends. They worry... but...

Lex had just laughed.

And all of a sudden, Clark wasn't angry anymore. He wasn't sure what he was feeling. He didn't like it, though.

The door from the office swung open, and then Lex was once more at his side.

"People are starting to go home. You heading back to the dorms?"

Clark had, in fact, been planning just that. He had racoon fur and ice-cream to clean off his t-shirt from earlier, anyway. But he now felt a surge of indignation at not being offered an invitation to stay over. It wasn't like Lex didn't have the room. And the new woman on the scene, whoever she was, hadn't been at the party, so it wasn't like Lex was busy. Thanks for nothing, Lex.

"Thanks for coming tonight, Clark. It was good to have you here for a while, even if the delightful Ms. Blake did monopolize your time somewhat."

That stung. "Why?"

"Well, I presume she was attracted to you, Clark. It does happen."

"No, I - I - that's not what I meant."

Lex looked perplexed. Clark didn't blame him. God knows he had no clue what the hell he was talking about.

"Why did you invite me tonight, Lex?"

He saw a passing flicker of shock in Lex's eyes, which confused him even more. Then Lex's face went blank.

"Did you have other plans?"

It sounded like the taste of hot chocolate sauce on cheap ice cream - a thin veneer of warmth covering a startling internal chill. Clark realized that he was supposedly leading this horrible conversation, and he had no idea where it was coming from or where it could be going. He wanted it to stop, but he wasn't finished.

"No other plans, Lex. If I had, I would have cancelled them." This was only the truth, but Lex still looked surprised. And what was that? Lex was his best friend. Of course he'd come whenever Lex asked. Always. Didn't Lex know that?

"I know you're busy these days, Clark. That's all. If you had somewhere else to be, I would have understood. It's not a big deal."

It was said flippantly. But the whole thing was beginning to make Clark freak out. Lex was talking to him like they were just buddies or something. He was talking like they owed each other nothing, like there was nothing between them but... convenience. Like their relationship was a... a 7-11 - there when you're hankering for a slurpee, not so important the rest of the time. And that prospect made Clark's throat close and his stomach lurch, because there was nothing convenient about his feelings for Lex; convenient didn't even come close.

"Lex." It came out a little desperate. "I would cancel things for you. I would. I - you're not convenient, Lex. And I don't want to be convenient either. I don't want to be just a slurpee. I'm open all hours, Lex. I need you to know that."

Lex smiled, but Clark saw that he didn't get it. He had no clue what Clark was talking about, and that was maybe the worst thing that had happened to him all day, even including the stupid exploding racoon. Because if Lex didn't get it, if Lex didn't understand him, somehow, even through all the secrets and the dull parties and the animal goo he'd had to scrub off before coming over, then that meant no one did.

Lex reached out and put a hand on his arm. "Clark, what the hell? Are you okay? Did Katherine Blake say something to you?"

God, that woman. "Yes! Yes she did! She said she'd pay me million dollars if I had sex with her!"

He was yelling, and Lex was looking more and more worried.

"Clark - I'm sorry she upset you - "

"Why didn't she upset you?!"

The noise of his yell bounced outward from the windows and died into the soundless carpet below, sinking into obscurity in a way Clark coveted for himself. God, this was bad.

"Clark. Calm down. Katherine Blake didn't offer me money to sleep with her because I have a lot more money than she ever will. And she knows for damn sure that I'm not interested in fucking her for free."

Clark drew in a lungful of conditioned air and thanked a silent deity that Lex had obviously grown less perceptive with age and respectability. Fast on the prayer of gratitude came the sad certainty that Lex was quite as perceptive as ever. He just didn't watch Clark the way he used to.

So. Time to salvage this mess and go home. Start again tomorrow. Maybe he'd suggest they have dinner. Maybe Lex would find time to come see a movie, and they'd hang out like they used to. Maybe if they had enough dinners and hung out as long as it took, they'd be the friends they used to be, as well.

Okay. Time to summon a smile. This could work.

"Yeah. I know, Lex. Sorry." And now, the grin. Come on, Kent. "Where do you think she got the idea that I needed a million bucks?"

Lex's face cleared and he donned a smirk, letting his gaze drop down Clark's body. "I can't imagine, Clark. I put you in that suit, and you look a million dollars in it all by yourself. The sneakers, however..."

Clark grinned, unapologetic. "Love me, love my Reeboks, Lex."

Lex had his hands in his pockets now, rocking slightly on his toes toward Clark. "Well, well. Aren't we getting cocky? One woman comes onto him at a party and suddenly he's too good for dress shoes."

Clark's heart started thumping faster. He loved Lex like this. Couldn't lose it.

"That's right. I'm so sexy. You all wish you could have me and my sneakers. Bet you're dying to offer me a million bucks right now."

"Oh, Clark, Clark. You're right. Please. Take my millions. I need your nasty running shoes in my bed, now! Sleep with me, I beg you!"

It was said with a grin. It was said because Clark had led the conversation to this point, bumbling ahead like a hammer-headed fool, and he had known in advance what he was supposed say. Except now that it was there, in the open, he couldn't speak. He couldn't say a word.

Lex had just begged to have sex with him. And for one stupid, car-crash moment, Clark had thought he meant it.

The frantic crisis-control section somewhere in the back of his brain was screaming for him to give the appropriate answer; to joke, to grin, to move on, to do anything other than stand there staring at Lex's mouth and Lex's neck and Lex's skin with a ridiculous open-mouthed mixture of shock and lust.

But he couldn't move. When he raised his head to meet Lex's gaze, he saw that the last vestiges of humour were leaving his face and the earlier confusion was brimming there instead.

"I don't want your million dollars, Lex."

The smile returned to the soft corners of his mouth, but the confusion grew. "I know, Clark. Listen - I think you need some rest. You've been really stressed lately with exams and you should probably go back home for a while. Go see your parents, maybe. Find Pete."

That was a perfectly reasonable idea. Which is why it nearly brought Clark to tears. Because Lex was concerned. And he was showing it by giving Clark advice about going back to Smallville. About resting. He wasn't trying to figure out what could be wrong. He wasn't forcing him to sit and stay and calling the help to bring him soup and cookies. He wasn't standing too close and threatening to wreak vengeance on all of Clark's enemies. Not even a little vengeance. Not even on one stupid enemy. He wasn't scaring Clark at all, or if he was, it wasn't in the thrilling way he used to. This was the kind of scared Clark felt when he realised that his mom suddenly looked old, or when the ship told him his bogus destiny. The kind that meant he was lost, or that something precious was being lost to him.

He stared across the room at Lex, the other half of their friendship of legend, and tried to figure it out. He wasn't sure when things had started to change. When had he grown so greedy? When was it that what he was offered had begun to fall so short of what he craved?

Lex had figured it out. Lex had found out how to be normal, how to want as much as you can without killing yourself craving the impossible. He'd papered over the weird, and had somehow learned how to live like other people did, with dinner parties and apt responses and alcohol only in moderation. Problem was, of course, that Clark was a permanent resident on planet weird, and if Lex had decided to move on, that left him there alone, more alone than ever. His head reeled; he couldn't see straight. All he could make out were Lex's eyes watching him - worried, but not unduly - and he realised that it was time to go home. He turned toward the door before the ache in his gut could seep out through his skin, and started to walk from the room.

"Clark - "

What, oh what? He stopped, but didn't turn round.

"Clark, are you sure you'll be okay going home? Want me to have a driver bring you?"

Clark swallowed and tried to force out a 'no' from his closed throat. Nothing was forthcoming, and he was about to try just shaking his head when Lex's phone started chirping discreetly from the table beside him.

"Clark - listen, don't go for a minute, okay? I have to get this call, but will you wait, please?"

Somehow, nodding was easier than anything else, so that's what he did. Lex picked up the call and moved into the office.

Clark turned slowly to survey the apartment he was about to leave. This was Lex's life now, decorated in tasteful ecru tones with notes of gray (whatever the hell that meant). He could still have a place in it, true. Lex wanted them to be friends still, and that was good. Great. He'd just have to let Lex be who he wanted to be, that's all. With his beautiful apartment and his polite social circle and his wildly successful and utterly legitimate corporation... Clark trained his eyes through the door to see that everyone had gone home. Well, of course they had. At a reasonable hour. He started to look around for his coat and half-focused his hearing on Lex, just for the comfort of his voice.

And froze.

"Listen to me very, very carefully, Mr. Martin. I am telling you, very politely, that I want those shares moved now. Tonight. I don't care what goddamn time it is in Tokyo, *it's company-razing time in Metropolis. Get it done. If Blake Industries isn't completely fucking decimated by noon tomorrow, not only will your brother not be running for mayor, he won't be running anywhere else either. Ever. Do we understand each other?"

Clark didn't listen for the answer. He was pretty sure what it would be. If Lex ever spoke to him like that, he'd do whatever the hell he was told.

Oh god, that was hot.

"Clark?!"

Lex was staring at him, shocked and completely thrown. Because Clark had somehow walked into his office - his kinda creepy office, now that Clark looked around - and had grasped his shoulders more tightly than was entirely normal.

Fuck normal.

"Lex. I heard you. You threatened that man. You're destroying Mrs. Blake. I heard you, Lex."

Lex dropped the phone. "Ah... Clark... it's - it's not what it sounded like - "

"Lex Luthor." Clark was shaking him - just a little, just for fun - and his eyes were huge and bright. "All that crap you've been talking. All those polite little laughs. Telling me to get some rest! And the whole time, you're plotting to use underhanded connections to bribe people and break the law and be all kinds of sneaky and bad!"

"Clark - " Lex was swallowing convulsively, eyes darting around the room. "No. You have to listen to me. I - I was just trying to protect you, Clark."

"I'm three inches taller than you, Lex, and a whole lot stronger. I've been quite able to look after myself for some time now." Lex leaned back against the desk and shivered as Clark moved closer, stroking his hand down the back of Lex's head. Whispered, "But you're still trying."

Clark looked at his terrified, terrifying best friend. "Oh, Lex. I didn't think you cared!" Clark let loose a small sob and buried his face in Lex's neck, snuffling against his jugular like some overgrown comfort-seeking puppy.

Lex raised slightly shaky hands and smoothed them down Clark's trembling back. "Clark... I... you're not mad?"

Clark snuggled harder and shook his head.

"You're not angry that I'm being unscrupulous? That I'm using my position of power to do evil? That I've ruined Blake?" More head shaking from Clark. "Clark - wait, Clark - did you like what I just... oh my god..." Clark thought he'd forestall any further protests by pressing full up against Lex and showing him just how much he liked it.

He propped Lex against the desk and grabbed his hips, then started moving, ever so slowly, lips tracing over Lex's face as he pushed in tiny circles of heat against Lex's groin. "I thought you wanted to be normal." Panting now, just a little. "I thought you were going to be just like them, leaving me behind." Lex's hand slipped on the desk and Clark threw an arm around his waist to prop him up, using easy strength to keep him upright as he thrust.

Lex lifted his head from where it had fallen and pushed his lips against Clark's ear, laughing breathlessly as he struggled to gain control. "Oh no, Clark. I'm nothing like normal. You liked that? That's nothing, Clark. I do worse than that before breakfast. I'm practically insane, Clark." Clark gulped. "The things I do everyday would scare you. You know they would." A whimper. A harder thrust. "Half the people in that room tonight are scared to death of me, Clark. And they are quite right to be."

Clark screwed his eyes shut and found Lex's mouth with his own. Lex wasn't normal. Lex didn't want to live life in moderation. He was still as nutso as ever, just as nusto as Clark. He'd simply gotten better at faking it. Relief and heady joy rushed through him.

"Not you, though, Clark. You don't need to be afraid of me. I'll always take care of you." Lex punctuated his terrifying promise with a bite on Clark's neck and Clark wailed and pulled them to the floor, scrabbling for the zip on Lex's suit trousers.

Lex reached down and gently but firmly moved Clark's hands away. Rolling on top, he opened them both to the air and started to rock. "I've got you now, Clark. I've got you. I was right, earlier, wasn't I? You do need a rest." Clark gave up on speech and settled for staring, pushing, and moaning as needed. "You can rest here. I'll take care of you here. You have class tomorrow, right? You're due in, when, nine-thirty?" Clark's eyes grew even wider. "I'll have someone give them a call. Don't worry about your professor. We've had words. She won't be giving you anymore trouble."

Clark grinned helplessly and clutched Lex tighter. Lex knew him. He knew his schedule and his problems, and he seemed to know a whole lot more about how to handle Professor Rourke than Clark ever had. Lex knew everything about him. Lex was completely, freakishly obsessed.

"Oh Lex," he moaned, and came.

Sometime later, Clark opened his eyes to a tender-faced Lex cradled beside him on the office floor, stroking fingers through his hair and murmuring softly, reciting Clark's social security number and his favourite pizza toppings, telling him about his contact at the Daily Planet and his special friend in Gotham. Clark let his eyelids droop, thinking about sleeping in tomorrow and the fun he'd have for the rest of his life, getting Lex to open up all the craziness inside to mingle and merge with Clark's. He wondered if Lex already knew about the racoon. He hoped not. It would be a good story to tell over breakfast. He threw a leg over Lex's thigh, pulled him in tight, and kissed his obsessive psycho soulmate goodnight.

End