Author's Notes: My entry for the A Dark Knight in Smallville Contest.

Thank you to Philtre and Moss, for the wonderful betas. And especially to Philtre, because she made a cover for me. THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! [insert happy dance here]

Players: Dale Midkiff as Bruce Wayne
Andrew Kavovit as Dick Grayson


~*~*~*~*~


"Gotham?"

Lex nodded.

"You want me to go to Gotham with you?"

Lex nodded again, a smirk playing on his lips.

"To Bruce Wayne's Annual New Year's Masquerade Ball?"

He was starting to feel like one of those bobbing heads.

"Lex." Clark gaped. "Are you serious? I mean, I really wouldn't fit in or anything."

"Clark," he sighed.

"Stop it. I know, sorry."

"Apology not accepted." Lex crossed his arms, glaring at his friend.

Instead of downcast eyes, like he expected, Lex got a naughty little smile and a suggestive tone.

"How can I make it up to you, Lex?"

Bit back the moan and the "fuck me" in favour of, "Come to the party."

Clark grinned. "Okay,"


~*~*~*~*~


"Wow." Head tilted back, Clark just stared at the imposing face of Wayne Manor.

"Impressive, isn't it?"

"Wow."

Lex laughed, grabbing Clark's arm. "Let's go inside. Bruce is expecting us."

"Wow."


~*~*~*~*~


"Good to see you again, Lex." Bruce warmly clasped Lex's hand in both of his. "It's been a while."

"Your last New Year's party, I think." Lex grinned, turning. "Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent."

"Hello."

"Nice to meet you, sir."

"Please, call me Bruce." He stopped his study of the much younger man and turned, waving at the doorway behind his back. "My ward, Dick Grayson." He paused, rolling his eyes. "Lex, Dick, I believe the two of you remember each other."

"Of course, I do, Bruce." Dick swaggered over, grinning. "How could I forget Mr. Chrome Dome?"

Hazel eyes narrowed, Clark stepped forward.

"And how could I forget your precious, precocious, loudmouth brat of a ward, Bruce?"

"Well, I see nothing's changed about you, Mr. Clean."

"The same goes for your abhorrent, childlike behaviour."

Clark gaped, eyes bouncing back and forth. He glanced at Bruce, who just rolled his eyes *again* and heaved an exasperated sigh.

"Nice to see you again, Lexy. Shine your head for you?"

"No thanks, Dickhead. You're not my type."

Grayson's blue eyes darted over to Clark. "Hmm, I guess you like them big and dumb."

"And I'm guessing you like yours bigger and richer than you." Clark grinned rather wolfishly at the stunned silence. Oh yes, he had come a long way from the shy fifteen-year-old.

Dick suddenly smiled, then glommed onto Bruce. "You bet I do."

Lex and Clark snickered at the look on Bruce's face.

The older man stared down at his ward with exasperation. He sarcastically petted the young man on the head. "Get off me, brat."

"Yes, Master Bruce." Dick grinned cheekily, ducking the swat. "Ooo, kinkier and kinkier."

"Dick, show Clark up to his room, please? Lex and I have business to discuss."

Grayson rolled his eyes, leaning towards Clark conspiratorially. "That's his way of saying, 'the adults need to talk.'"

Clark laughed, following him upstairs.


~*~*~*~*~


"Sorry about that comment, Dick."

"Don't worry about it. I've heard worse." He shrugged, then grinned. "Guess it's my turn to apologize for my comment."

Clark returned the grin. "Nah."

"Cool." Dick nodded as he pushed opened a heavy wooden door. "Here it is. Closet. Bathroom. Connecting door to Luthor's room. . . ." He mischievously watched Clark through his bangs. "Just in case you need it."

Clark blushed, but straightened. "You know that part where I pound you into the ground for the slur on my honor? It's about to happen now."

Dick laughed, nimbly dodging the cushion thrown at his head. He quickly retaliated.

"You're a lousy aim, Grayson." Clark ducked, snickering as the pillow projectile went wide.

"Not what the ladies tell me, Kent." He re-aimed, then fired.

"That would be the rubber and plastic inflatable ones, right?"

Dick's mouth dropped open. "You're dead meat, Kent!"

Clark fled the room. "That the best you can come up with? Not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you?" He laughed as he ran down the stairs. A quick peek of x-ray vision told him where Lex and Bruce were. He ran, only his sensitive hearing told him when Dick was about to pounce.

"Argh!"

"Missed!" Clark cackled all the way down the stairs.


~*~*~*~*~


"Well, he's a nice young man." Bruce poured a drink as Lex settled into a chair in front of his desk.

Lex glanced over at his long time friend. "Don't start."

"Start what?" It wasn't a fake innocent look on Wayne's face – Bruce Wayne didn't do innocent – but it came damn close.

"He's my best friend --"

"You mean I've been replaced?"

"For nearly five years now." Lex smirked.

"I'm crushed." Hand clutching at his wide chest, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"I'm sure you're not." The smirk grew. "Especially with Dick around."

The raised eyebrow and a look was all the warning Lex got. "We're not lovers," finalized it.

"Neither are Clark and I."

Bruce elegantly snorted, something only he could do. "The difference between us -- other than I have better looks, more hair and money -- is that I don't want to fuck Dick through the mattress."

Lex snickered. "Well, neither do I."

Bruce glared.

Lex sighed. "He's my friend," he murmured helplessly.

"And you don't want that to change," Bruce concluded softly.

Lex shook his head.

"Do you love him?"

He nodded.

"Then you need to tell him."

"No, I do not."

"Yes, you do."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"And they say *we* act like children."

"Hypocritical, wouldn't you say, Dick?"

"Oh most definitely, Clark."

The two dark-haired young men snickered at their older counterparts.

"Very funny, Grayson." That sarcasm faded as Lex smiled, watching Clark dropped onto the floor nearby. The younger man, for some unknown reason, liked to sit there.

"Thanks, I thought so." Dick was entirely too smug as he swung his legs over the arm of his overstuffed chair. He ignored the disapproval in Bruce's eyes. He liked sitting in unconventional poses. Bruce should have known this since he found him with the upper half of his eight-year-old body hanging off the side of the couch.

"I was being sarcastic."

"Really? I couldn't tell. What with the childish 'are nots' and 'are toos' flying around."

"Or maybe it's because I used words with more than two syllables?"

"Well, since you're so smart and all, I'm sure you can understand the word 'prick.'"

"Children," Bruce admonished.

"I'm impressed, the word has more than three letters!"

"Bite me, Luthor!"

"No, thank you, I don't want to catch anything!"

"This is going to be a very long weekend." Bruce shook his head with resignation while Clark just continued to shake with smothered laughter.


~*~*~*~*~


"Hey, wanna go for a ride?"

"Bikes?" Clark deftly caught the helmet thrown at him. Behind him, the moon shone in all its splendor. Dinner had been an educational experience. Lex and Dick had all but thrown their dinner plates at each other while Bruce sat at the head of the table, resolutely ignoring the two of them and trying to hold a conversation with him over the din. Clark watched the verbal fencing match with tears in his eyes, barely responding to Bruce's conversational attempts. If his stomach could cramp from laughter, he'd still be curled up in a fetal position.

"Yeah." Dick jerked his head towards the window filled with stars, grinning madly. "I feel like gettin' out. The elders are talkin' business again and I'm bored." Eyes rolled.

"What kind?" Clark tossed the college textbook on the bed and grabbed his jacket. He willingly followed Dick out of his room even though Lex hated the guy. Clark, on the other hand, genuinely liked Bruce *and* Dick. Bruce had a very dry sense of humor, made unpredictable by the sparse usage of corny, sometimes dirty, witticism. Dick was the complete opposite: an outright troublemaker. He goaded everyone, not just Lex. But Clark found himself responding to it. It was a lot like a juvenile one-up game. It was a hellava lot of fun.

"Of bikes?" The wide, smug grin growing. "We're talkin' Bruce Wayne, here, kid. What kind do you want?"

Clark laughed. "Sounds like Lex and his cars."

"Yeah," Dick groused, "that's the only reason I can stand him. His taste in cars."

The younger man rolled his eyes but smirked anyway.


~*~*~*~*~


Lex glanced up from the paperwork. "Bruce, does it seem a little quiet to you?"

"No."

"You sure about that?"

Wayne's dark head finally rose as he met Lex's eyes, his own narrowing. "I'll check on mine, you check on yours."


~*~*~*~*~


"Alfred, have you seen Dick or Clark?" Bruce had stuck his head into the butler's private study after a quick knock.

The old man smiled mysteriously. "I do believe the young masters have gone out for the evening."

"Out?" Bruce echoed blankly. "Where?"

"Now that, sir, I would not know."

"Thank you."


~*~*~*~*~


"They're gone."

"And so are two of my bikes."

Lex shook his head. "I know Clark can take care of himself --"

"So can Dick."

Blue eyes narrowed. "I trust Dick to be responsible as far as I can throw him."

"He's not that bad, Lex."

A rather rude noise answered him.


~*~*~*~*~


Hours later, Bruce was having some doubts himself. Especially after watching one of the calmest men he knew slowly deteriorate into a fidgeting mess. He had to do something before Lex's nervousness made him insane. It was pretty pathetic. And yes, he was worried about Clark and Dick too. "Lex, I'm heading off to bed. If you see that ward of mine, try not to be too harsh on him."

"I cannot promise you anything."

Bruce snorted.


~*~*~*~*~


It took him less than thirty minutes to find them using the tracking devices implanted in every vehicle he owned. Dick was street racing his bike . . . again. And Clark was with him.

The Batman's eyes narrowed. He sincerely hoped Lex wouldn't find out about this. He'd guillotine Dick for sure.


~*~*~*~*~


One of the perks about full helmets was the distortion of his features. Not a single person here knew he was the ward of the richest man in Gotham. Well, except for Kent, and the kid wasn't telling. Actually, Kent had very little to say about Dick's financial status. He was too busy laughing and hollering in sheer delight.

Kent had a gift for racing bikes.

And boy, was he exercising that gift.

It started with a hundred-dollar bet that Dick put down. The pot Kent was racing for now was well over three thousand dollars. That was the credit line for one of the lesser of Dick's credit cards, but a helluva a lot of cash for the street racers. And too, it seemed, for the farmboy from Kansas.

But, Dick grinned, it wasn't the money Kent wanted. Sure, he had been surprised as hell at the amounts thrown around, but that wasn't what made his eyes light up. It was the thrill of speed, of the race.

Dick had just found his new best friend.


~*~*~*~*~


It started out just like the others. Clark had just won the three thousand and was finally taking a break.

More helmeted racers approached them, challenging them both – double or nothing.

Clark and Dick exchanged wild grins and nodded.

The race had started out just like the others too, but when the challengers realized that the two upstarts were going to win, the rules changed.

The only reason Clark didn't get a concussion and stayed on his bike was his alien invulnerability. His competitor's aim with a mace was deadly.

Dick barely dodged the club aimed at his head. When he heard the wild, distinctive laughter over the roar of engines, he realized who they were.

The Joker gang. Street riff-raff that emulated the master criminal and terrorized the city on a nightly basis. Instead of being part of the Joker's real gang, these were expendable pretenders. Dangerous troublemakers, pure and simple.

Hoping Kent could not only keep up, but that he understood to follow his lead, Dick zoomed forward, sharply cutting in front of him.

Clark jerked, but hugged the bike, leaning low and zoomed after his friend.

The Jokers followed.

Through Gotham's dark streets, they rode, as fast as their bikes allowed, dodging weapons and dirty tricks.

Seconds before it came upon them, Dick saw it. He dumped his bike just in time, watching as it skidded towards the edge of the unfinished street. He only had time to think, 'Stupid rookie mistake! Damn trap!' before his momentum sent him sailing through the air without a net.

His body jerked to a stop as, out of nowhere, a hand caught him. Glancing up, he saw Clark's wide eyes.

Above him, he also heard the dying engines and wild laughter.

'Shit, Bruce is gonna kill me.'


~*~*~*~*~


"I'm going to fucking kill him." The Batman calmly muttered the words, knowing that Alfred was probably listening and laughing at him.

"Hold on," he ordered Clark, before turning to the troublemaking imitations.

They didn't see his feral grin.


~*~*~*~*~


Clark swallowed hard, breathing a little ragged. Not from the strain of supporting all of Dick's weight with one arm, but rather from the adrenaline-like rush going through his veins. He idly wondered if Lex was going to kill him for tonight. He also wondered when he could do it again.

"Hold on." The command, issued in a strangely familiar voice, broke no argument.

Quickly enough the sounds of battle raged behind him but he ignored it. Instead, Clark peered over the metal scaffolding. "How's it hangin', Grayson?"

"Oh, you know. Same old, same old." Oddly enough, Dick's voice was amazingly calm. "So who's up there with you?"

"Uhm." Clark turned, blinking several times. Yes, that was a big, human-sized bat coming towards them. Bodies were littered in his wake. "It's, uh, the Batman."

"Really? Cool."

Clark laughed unbelievingly.

Seconds later, Dick was on solid ground again.

"Thank you," Clark said, addressing the imposing figure in black.

"Next time," the Dark Knight chastized, "be more careful." He turned, glaring at Dick. "Both of you."

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks."

Something in Dick's somewhat insolent tone made Clark watch the pair more closely. Noticing how easy the two were with each other. Not a single thread of nervousness in Dick's body and the slightly protective arch of the Batman's. He couldn't resist -- it wasn't like he was going to reveal what he saw to anyone . . . well, maybe Lex -- switching to x-ray vision. He gasped. "Bruce?"

The two men froze.

"Excuse me?" Batman turned, stalking towards him.

Clark blinked, focusing again, not quite believing his eyes. Yup, no change. He turned, studying Dick, not seeing the red and green of the Robin costume under his shirt but Dick's familiarity with the Batman could only mean one thing. "That makes you Robin, right?" The instant the words came out of his mouth, he could have slapped himself. 'That's right, Clark, reveal your weird powers to people you hardly know just because you're shocked silly. Lex is so not going to be happy with you.'

"What are you talking --" Dick's voice stopped, Clark obviously wasn't buying it.

"How do you know who we are?" Batman demanded, now invading Clark's personal space.

He thought it would have been intimidating . . . if you weren't a invulnerable alien. Instead, he crossed his arms. "I want Lex."

"No shit," Dick muttered.

Clark didn't find that funny at all.


~*~*~*~*~


"Clark?" Lex dropped his book, raising from his chair. "What happened?" When he reached Clark, he ran frantic hands over the younger man's body, searching for wounds under the dirt and stained clothes. And no, it didn't matter to him that Clark was an invulnerable alien. He still worried.

"I'm okay," he murmured softly, but leaned into the touch of Lex's hands.

"Are you sure?" He led Clark to an oversized footstool, grabbing one of the moist, warm towels Alfred was handing out. He sat down and reached out, gently cleaning the young man seated between his legs.

"Hmm," Clark sighed, relaxing under Lex's ministrations.

The two of them ignored the rest of the world until a deep throat cleared. They jumped, turning to see Dick smirking and Bruce's displeased, stoic mask.

"It's time to explain, Mr. Kent."

Silver blue eyes narrowed at Bruce's question and behaviour. "Explain what?"

"Bruce is Batman," Clark whispered into his ear.

"What?" He stared in shock at his childhood friend, then his eyes narrowed. "Well, that makes sense."

Bruce and Dick goggled.

"Excuse me?" Wayne demanded.

Lex smiled smugly. "Well, it does."

"What I want to know is how he," Dick jerked his chin at Clark, "knew." His intense gaze made the younger man squirm.

"Lex?" Clark leaned towards his friend, seeking help and shelter.

Lex unconsciously caressed the forearm under his hand, intently studying one of his oldest friends. He then turned to study his most cherished. "Clark, I trust him. But I don't know if I trust him with you."

Bruce clamped a hand over Dick's mouth.

Clark blinked, staring down, then around the room. Whatever he found must have answered the questions for him. "Well, if I'm gonna do the superhero gig, I might as well learn from best, right?" he whispered.

The ends of Lex's lips twitched. "Well, I don't know about the best . . . ."

Clark snickered, leaning in even closer. "Besides, I want to check out the Batcave." After returning Lex's mischievous grin, he glanced over at Bruce and Dick. "Hi, I'm Clark Kent and I'm an alien."

"You're not at an AA meeting, Kent."

"Yeah, but it takes about twelve steps to reach the end of the story, Luthor, so shush."

An hour later, Bruce and Dick stared at the two of them.

Clark glanced over at Lex, who returned his look.

Lex grinned. "So, Bats, can we check out the Cave?"

"Don't call me that and how did you . . . never mind." Bruce stood. "This way."


~*~*~*~*~


Lex sat up straighter at the tentative knock. "Come in, Clark."

The dark head poked in, shy smile on his lips. "Am I bothering you?"

"No, come in." He waved Clark in, pushing aside the papers scattered around him. Smiled warmly as Clark climbed into the bed and grabbed a pillow to hug as he laid on his stomach. "What's on your mind?"

"Do you think I did the right thing?"

"Telling all three of them?"

Clark nodded, eyes utterly intent on Lex's face.

He leaned back on the pillow, staring off. "Yes," he murmured after a few moments, "I think you did." Without really thinking about it, he fingered Clark's curls, helping him concentrate. "If something ever happens, they'll be able to help you."

"Lex, if something happens, you and my parents will be the ones I go to. Not them."

"I meant if I wasn't there."

Clark blinked. "Why wouldn't you be?"

"Clark, I'm not the invulnerable one." Gasped as Clark roughly jerked him down to eye level.

"Don't say things like that." His eyes blazed, aggression and protection written in every line. Waited until Lex nodded before releasing him.

Lex swallowed, gently carding his fingers through Clark's hair again in way of an apology. "So, the cave was pretty interesting." Only Clark could reduce him to blatant subject-changing to save himself.

Hazel eyes narrowed, telling him that they knew what he was doing, but were going to play along anyway. "Yeah."

"I can't believe Bruce is the Batman."

"Wait a minute, downstairs you said you did!"

"I said it made sense, not that I could completely believe it." Lex smirked.

"So?"

"Why did it make sense?"

Clark nodded.

Lex shrugged. "When I first met Bruce, he was sixteen and I was eleven. Boarding schools range from kindergarten up through high school," he explained. "He was quiet, reserved. Not always mentally there. Intense. Preoccupied." He chuckled. "Are all of you superheros like this? Varying degrees of brooding?"

Clark's eyes narrowed as he punched Lex's leg. "Yes, it's in the handbook."

He smirked.

"How did you guys become friends?"

"Because we're so different?"

Clark nodded. "And the age thing."

"Oh, I don't know." Lex smiled, flipping a lock of hair out of Clark's eyes. "I could think of stranger combinations that worked out perfectly."

Clark gave him the sweetest smile before turning and hiding a yawn in the pillow.

"Go to bed, Clark, it's been a long night."

He shook his head. "Don't want to. The bed feels funny."

A sleek brow rose. "You are not Lana and I'm not going to look for a pea."

"Lana? Pea?" Clark rolled his eyes. "Ha, ha, Lex."

Lex grinned. "I certainly thought so."

Clark glanced up him through his lashes. "Can I stay here?"

Lex bit back the instinctive moan. The boy was doing it on purpose, he knew it! No one, absolutely fucking no one was this accidentally seductive. Not on this planet. But that was the kicker, wasn't it? "Yes."

Clark beamed.


~*~*~*~*~
~*~*~*~*~


"That one?" Dick grimaced and used two fingers to pluck at the fabric.

"Hey! It was a great movie!" Clark admired the folds of the Jedi robes in the triad of mirrors.

"No. There is just no way in hell I'm letting you wear that get up." Dick waved his arms, indicating the costume shop beyond the door of the huge dressing room. "You've got your pick of any of these incredible costumes and you wanna be a monk? What is up with that? Is it some kind of alien thing?"

Clark flushed. "No. I . . . just . . . good movie?" he finished lamely.

Dick shook his head. "Not good enough." He dragged the younger man around the vacant store, carefully inspecting his choices. "There is just no way in hell I'm letting you go the party in that."

"Dick --"

"No. Way. In. Hell. Boring. Boring. Overdone. Gaudy. Boring. Girly. Boring --"

"Hey, what's wrong with that one?" Clark pointed to the Blade costume. "Now that was a cool movie. The first one anyway."

"Can't argue but it's not you."

"Not me?" Clark goggled. "You met me like two days ago --"

"I'm highly gifted when it comes to my perceptions of people."

"How long did it take you to figure out Bruce was Batman?"

"That's not the point."

Clark laughed.

"Shut up, jackass. Just because we're all not 'gifted' like you – oh, now there's your costume." Dick stopped dead, admiring the mannequin. "It's perfect. Dark, mysterious, dangerous." He grinned wickedly. "You'll drive the ladies and ol' Chrome Dome nuts in that."

Clark stared at the costume in opened mouth shock. Open. Close. Open. Close. His voice didn't seem to work.

Dick grabbed the correct size. "Here, go try it on."

He numbly grabbed it, heading for the dressing room. Clark held the costume at arms' length and eyed it the whole time, like he was afraid it was going to bite.

"Finished?"

Dick nodded. "Almost."

Bruce glanced down. Dick was wearing his street clothes and no chosen costume in sight. "What did you pick?" he asked warily.

Dick grinned, bouncing. "Don't worry, Bruce, this year I'm gonna be a cowboy. One from the 'Magnificent Seven.'"

"Thank God for small blessings," Bruce murmured.

"What?" Dick smiled oh so innocently. "You didn't like my Chippendale costume last year? Everyone else did."

"I had to save you from being mauled by three of the oldest matrons in Gotham, brat. That was not fun."

Dick had the shame to duck his head. "Yeah, uh, did I ever thank you for that?"

"I think you groveling 'thank you' at my feet and voluntarily washing every vehicle I owned covered it sufficiently." And yes, his lips were twitching.

"Ah, good." He glanced around. "Where's Luthor?"

"His father called."

Dick chuckled evilly. "How is Lionel? I miss the old coot. Great man, Lionel Luthor -- " He ducked the head swat, laughing.

"If you value your head, don't mention Lionel." Bruce nudge his ward to the sight behind him, surprise evident only in his eyes.

Dick turned to greet Clark, grinning. "I love being right."

A sleek black eyebrow rose, watching as Clark tried to hide in plain sight. If the rest of Clark's people looked like that, he sincerely hoped they were also as nice as the young man or the Earth was screwed . . . both ways. "You do realize what that costume is going to do to Lex, right?"

Dick rubbed his hands together, handing over his credit card. "Of course, I do, Bruce. Of course, I do. Why do you think I chose it?"

Bruce shook his head as his ward cackled.


~*~*~*~*~


"So, Lex, how's --" He barely dodged Bruce's well aimed foot. "The costume? What did you end up choosing?" He smiled beatifically at his guardian even as Bruce's eyes narrowed.

"I believe the costume originated from 'The Count of Monte Cristo.'" Lex leaned back, sipping his wine.

"You really saw that movie?"

"Actually, yes. Betrayal, intrigue, one of Alexander Dumas' greatest works --"

"Don't lie, Lex, you watched it for the fencing moves." Clark smiled innocently at the mock glare.

"Well, you surprise me, Luthor."

Lex stared at the younger man, as if trying to discern his motives. "And why is that, Grayson?"

"I was damn sure you were going to be going as Dr. Evil. And Bruce, I could see you as his henchman. You know, the one with the eye patch --" Dick cheerfully wiped the wine from his face, audaciously licking the drops off his lips.

Alfred handed Dick another napkin. "Master Bruce, please refrain from throwing your grape juice. You are no longer three."


~*~*~*~*~


A quick knock was his only warning before Bruce stuck his upper body in. "The guests are arriving, hurry up."

"Yes, your majesty," Lex sneered, putting the final touches on his costume. The rich, blood red, velvet coat was luxury at its finest. The perfect complement to the vest, shirt, cravat, and trousers. Not an exact replica of a nineteenth century British nobleman, but close enough. "No costume, Bruce?" He eyed the black tux in the mirror.

"I am in costume." Bruce wickedly grinned, holding up what looked like a martini glass. "Bond. James Bond."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head for good measure. "If I didn't know better, Wayne, I'd say you were the most boring man on this planet."

"Now, that's just ridiculous," Bruce quoted in a surprisingly good faux British accent, wicked grin firmly in place, "have you met everyone on the planet?"

Lex groaned.


~*~*~*~*~


"Looking for your friend?"

Lex nodded, scowling at his limited vision behind the demi-mask. "It would help if you just told me what his costume is."

"Now where would the fun be in that?"

"Bruce, you really need to get a hobby."

"I have one."

"A healthy, mundane one."

Bruce laughed, craning his neck, shamelessly using his height. "I do believe he's here."

Lex glared at his friend. "I don't see him."

"I'm looking right at him, Luthor."

"Not all of us can be huge, lumbering giants, Wayne."

Bruce snickered. "All right, I'll give you a hint --"

"What? You're the Riddler, now?"

Bruce gave him a look. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. He's Lestat from 'Queen of the Damned.'"

"Lestat? What the hell kind of costume . . ." His voice trailed off as several things happened. His jaw dropped. His breathing stopped. And he got really hard, really fast.

Clark glided towards them, his eyes nearly hidden behind a domino mask. His hair rioted in waves and curls upon his head. Chest and arms were bare except for heavy gold armbands that adorned his bulging biceps. Lower, on his wrists, were leather bands and ties. Low-slung leather pants played hide-and-seek from behind heavy velvet panels that slithered about his legs, all snugly caught by the wide, gold, chain-mail belt.

"Bruce?"

"Yes?" And yes, that was smug satisfaction in Wayne's voice.

"Do you hate me?" Lex croaked, gulping down the sickly sweet, but cold, punch.

Bruce laughed. "No, Dick does." He patted Lex on the shoulder. "He's the one who picked it out."

"Little bastard."


~*~*~*~*~


"How about it, gorgeous?" The little blonde whispered in his ear. "Would you like to play?"

Lex carefully dislodged Caroline Gerth's wandering hand from his ass. "No." He turned to escape, but ran right into her husband, Jack.

"C'mon, pretty, we promise you'll have fun." He leered, hand cupping Lex's groin.

He took a deep breath because Bruce would never forgive him for killing two of his guests. "Get the fuck away from me." The two of them had been literally chasing him all damn night. He had had enough.

"C'mon, pretty --"

They didn't realize when the blue eyes turned into silver ice that it was best to run for cover. Fortunately for the Gerths, they were interrupted.

"He said 'no'."

"Hey, baby." Lex completely relaxed into the arms wrapped around his waist and shoulders, raising his hands to caress them in thanks. Warm, warm skin cradled his head perfectly. Over the years, the younger man had "saved" Lex several times from situations like this. It had graduated from sidling up next to Lex and stealing him away to simply grabbing him and claiming ownership. No matter how many times Clark had saved his life, he liked this kind of "saving" a hell of a lot more.

"Hi," Clark whispered into his ear. "They botherin' you?"

Lex shivered as his hair unintentionally teased the sensitive skin of his ear and skull. It did every time Clark hugged him from behind. It was a tease guaranteed to drive him insane. "Yes." He couldn't see Clark's face, but he knew the younger man must have let loose with the "feral alien" expression to get rid of Gerths. "Thank you."

Clark laughed. "You're welcomed." He gently squeezed Lex before letting him go. "It's your fault, you know."

"My fault?" He leaned back, laughter lighting his eyes.

"Yup, you should really tone down your 'sex on a stick' vibe if you don't want to be accosted again." Threw an innocent, serious look at Lex for good measure.

Lex started laughing and couldn't stop. Only Clark could tease him like this. He – was suddenly pulled back into those strong arms again. "Clark?"

"They're coming back."

"Oh." He idly wondered if he could keep the Gerths within visual distance for the rest of the night. But only if Clark kept holding him and gently swaying to the music just like this. He chuckled softly. "Our first dance."

Clark leaned back, smiling, teasing and demanding all in the same breath. "I lead."

Lex just laughed. Willingly let himself be spun off into the revolving dancers. Simply enjoying being in Clark's arms. Probably his only chance. It couldn't last long enough.

And it didn't.

"Mind if I cut in?"

"Go to hell, Grayson."

Clark laughed.

Dick just smiled smugly. "Seriously, I need to borrow Clark."

Lex reluctantly let Clark go, watching with a rising sense of melancholy as he walked away. He needed a drink. A really big one.


~*~*~*~*~


"Hey, Brucie! Great punch!"

He turned in shock. "Brucie?" He intently studied Lex's eyes, his own eyes narrowing. "Are you high, Luthor?"

"Yes. No. Well, I don't think so."

"You don't think so?"

"I don't remember taking anything." Lex mournfully frowned, then glanced down at his drink, brightening. "Spiked punch?"

Bruce sniffed his own untouched cup, eyes narrowing further. "It doesn't smell like alcohol." A single look brought Alfred. "Replace the punch and have it analyzed."

"Yes, sir." He disappeared.

"Analyzed?" Lex visibly perked up. "Oooo, can I help? I'm really good in the labs."

"Yes," Bruce muttered, rolling his eyes at Lex's uncharacteristic behaviour. "I remember." He eyed his long time friend. "Whatever this stuff is, it's made you much too happy."

Lex giggled, then frowned. "I'm not happy. I'm lonely." He sniffed adorably.

"Well, go find some company." He pushed Lex away.

"Okay. Oh, Claaaaark! Come out, come omph!"

Bruce clamped a hand over Lex's mouth, muffling the singsong call for the younger man, grateful for the music drowning him out. "That's it. You need to go to your room."

"You're *not* my daddy." Lex leered.

"Oh for fuck's sake." Bruce grabbed his arm, steering him up the stairs, smiling politely at the other guests.

"Where are you taking me, Bruce?"

Wayne stopped. Lex sounded reasonably sober. Then ruined the charade by giggling. Bruce rolled his eyes, continuing to the bedrooms.

"Hey! It's my room! Nice room. Thanks, Bruce!"

"You're very welcomed." His grin was pure evil as he closed and locked the door from the outside.

"Hey! Bruce! Bruce?"


~*~*~*~*~


"Hi, Bruce?"

He turned, smiling an apology to the mayor. "Clark, enjoying yourself?"

The young man grinned. "Yes, sir." His eyes roamed the room. "Actually, I was looking for Lex."

"He's in his room."

"Room? Is he okay?"

"Oh yes, he's fine. The punch . . . didn't agree with him." He winced at the fairly bad cover up.

"I didn't like it either." Clark shot a suspicious glance at the punch bowl, then at the other partygoers. "I think I'll go check on him."

"Good idea." Bruce waved as Clark left the main ballroom.

"Master Bruce?"

"Yes, Alfred." He turned, a more serious mask falling into place.

"The punch contains a drug that consists of a mixture similar to the narcotic Ecstasy and an aphrodisiac additive."

His eyes involuntarily rose towards Lex's second floor bedroom. Where he had just sent Clark. "Oh shit."


~*~*~*~*~


Really, being tackled as soon as he walked into Lex's room was the last thing he had expected. Really, it was. Even after Bruce's strange behaviour and his terse "he's in his room."

Really, it was the last thing he expected.

Maybe that was why he was flat on his back with Lex straddling his body.

And wow. That was really a lot of Lex skin on display. Really, really a lot. Like completely naked a lot.

"Hi, Clark." Breathy voice, toothy grin. Completely not Lex.

"Uhm, Lex, what's mmph--"

Yeah, okay, so there was something more unexpected than being tackled by a naked Lex – being kissed by a naked Lex. But, oh, this was good unexpected. Very good unexpected.

So good, in fact, that Clark didn't even notice the heavy belt and velvet panels slithering off his hips. Didn't even notice the leather pants underneath were being ripped opened until Lex pulled out his cock.

"Lex? Fuck!" Stared incredulously as Lex slid down with utter ease. Clark clenched his teeth as a slick, wet heat enveloped his cock. Damn near had a heart attack when he realized he was buried balls deep inside his best friend.

Meanwhile, above him, Lex happily fucked himself on Clark's cock. Slow, leisurely ride, a dreamy smile on his lips, hands exploring the bare, bronze skin of Clark's chest.

'It's the shock,' Clark thought hazily. It was the *only* reason he let this continue for so long. The indescribable, I-don't-want-it-to-end, I've-waited-so-long-for-this pleasure had nothing to do with it.

Nothing. Really, nothing at all.

"Lex?"

"Hmm?"

"What's gotten into you?"

"Right at the moment," Lex changed the angle, gasping happily, "your really nice cock."

Clark moaned at the bad joke or maybe it was the feeling of being inside Lex. His jaw clenched at a particularly hard thrust down. "Now, I know you're on something."

"Yeah." Bright, bright grin. "Toby must have given me the good shit."

"Toby? In Gotham?" His eyes slid closed, unable to watch Lex's pale body riding his any longer. Instead, he just laid there on the floor, enjoying what he knew he shouldn't be. He let his hands blindly wander over the soft skin stretched over the hard muscles of Lex's legs and thighs.

"Oh, wait, never mind, it was the punch. Someone spiked it." Lex leaned over, mouthing a nipple. A long lazy lick made Clark moan.

"Oh, mmmmmm." Clark lifted his head, unable to resist the sight of Lex enjoying his body any longer, licked his lips at the sight. "Alcohol?" It couldn't have been. Clark had seen Lex spectacularly smashed on all sorts of liquor. He'd never jumped Clark before. But if it was some kind of alcohol, Clark was going talk Lex into buying the company and stocking his bar with the stuff.

"Nah, something else."

As the words sank in, Clark sucked in a deep breath, steeling himself to push Lex off. "No, Lex, stop. You're high."

"So." He didn't stop sucking at the sensitive skin of his lover's neck.

"I'm not going to take advantage of you." Bit his lip to stop another moan.

"No," Lex leaned back, grinning, sliding up then down, "I'm taking advantage of you."

A strangled laugh erupted. "Lex --"

"I've always wanted to, you know."

"What?" Clark stared up incredulously.

"Yeah." Hands went wandering as Lex stared down into Clark's face. "Ever since you were fifteen. Mmmm, such pretty skin." He leaned down again, nipping at Clark's lips. "Been in love with you ever since we met."

"Love?" The word shorted out every circuit in Clark's brain, letting his body and heart make all the decisions. He pushed himself up, catching Lex's mouth with his own.

Lex crooned into that mouth, letting Clark devour him, holding the younger man tight against his body.

"Love you too," Clark whispered before laying back, letting his new lover play, enjoying the new sensations. He let his hands do some playing of their own, relishing the incredible man under his hands.

Lex purred as Clark grasped his cock, loving the feel of those huge hands. The drugs did wonderful things to his body. Like slowing his climax, letting him enjoy a nice, long ride. He could fuck himself on Clark for what seemed like hours without coming. He glanced down into hazel eyes. "You're nowhere close to coming, are you?"

Clark leaned up on one arm, catching Lex around the waist with the other. The kiss was slow, sweet, completely unhurried but, nevertheless, scorching. "Nope."

"The alien thing?"

"I've never appreciated it more." Clark chuckled.

Lex laughed breathlessly. "How long?"

Clark leaned forward, whispering into the shell of Lex's ear, "Hours."

He grinned maniacally.


~*~*~*~*~


His eyes opened against his will, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. No glaring light, no nasty surroundings. It wasn't bad at all. Until he realized several things:

1. He was naked.
   
2. He was lying on top of someone who was equally naked.
   
3. And the tip of that someone's cock was still inside his body.
   

Lex squeezed his eyes shut, jerking open as his memories flooded him. "Clark?"

Low husky chuckle. "Morning, Lex."

"Oh fuck me."

"Again?"

Lex moaned as more husky laughter deliciously vibrated the body under his own. He pushed himself up, gasping as Clark's cock slipped further into his body. He seated himself more firmly on the young man before staring down at his lover's open, happy face, he smiled at the tiny buck of Clark's hips. "I take it you have no regrets."

"Nope."

"Good." Lex leaned down, Clark raising up to meet him halfway.


~*~*~*~*~


The screen glowed softly in the Batcave as the occupants watched Clark and Lex softly kiss in the morning sun.

"Pay up."

"I can't believe it!" Dick grumbled, handing over the dollar.


The End