by Sara

"What are we doing here?" Justin asked for the third time, and Lance bit his lip and suppressed a glare.

"I told you. Shop talk. Lex and I go way back, and he'd the perfect business partner to have for my latest venture to-"

"Take over the world?" Justin interrupted.

"Yes, Justin. First Smallville, Kansas, next Earth as we know it," Lance said dryly.

Justin looked at his watch, bored with the conversation. "As long as we make it to Metropolis in time. Reservations and all."

"I'm sure they'll hold our table," Lance said shortly. He moved to knock on the door, but his hand was only half raised when the door opened.

"Mr. Luthor's been expecting you, sir," the butler said. "Allow me to escort you up to his office."

"Thanks," Lance said, and started to follow the man towards the stairs.

Justin stopped him, tugging on Lance's sleeve petulantly and saying, "What am I supposed to do? I don't want to sit in on your meeting."

The butler turned to Justin. "Mr. Luthor indicated I should lead you to the media room. This way, please?"

After dropping off Justin, they arrived at Lex's office. The butler nodded to Lance and then turned on his heel and departed for parts unknown.

"So, you have a proposition for me, Lance?" Lex said casually. He gestured for Lance to sit down. "Drink?"

"Not while I'm working," Lance said smoothly.

"Lance, you're always working." Lex poured two glasses of scotch, passing one over to Lance. "So what have you been up to? Plotting any corporate takeovers, or just working on those dance steps? Fielding marriage proposals from strange teenagers? Or perhaps," he snickered, "making another movie?"

Lance shrugged. "Just enjoying the hiatus. It's always nice to have some free time."

"And yet here you are, working," Lex pointed out.

"I've never been good at relaxation anyway." Lance smiled. "Are we done with the small talk yet?"

Lex grinned. "It's never just small talk with you." He stood up and headed for the pool table. "Game?"

Lance rolled his eyes. Lex was always so goddamned dramatic. They couldn't just talk, no, they had to bring long wood sticks into it. At least Lex wasn't trying to make him fence again.

Lex handed Lance a cue stick, while caressing his own in an ostensibly casual "Phallic? This? Noooo…" sort of manner. Dramatic and a tease, Lance amended.

Carefully, Lex racked up the balls. "So, tell me what you're doing here, Lance. Unless you just missed me that much?" He lined up his shot and went for it, scattering balls across the table.

Lance eyed the table, getting a feel for which ball he wanted to go for. "I'm here for business, Lex, not pleasure." He paused. "At least this time. I had this idea I thought you might be interested in."

"And you need the financial backing?"

"Hardly. It would, however, be nice to have a partner." He aimed and shot. The balls clicked against each other, and the yellow striped one dropped in the pocket.

"You think I'm the right partner for you?" Lex asked. He came up behind Lance, leaning almost into his shoulder. "Nice shot," he said quietly.

Lance suppressed a shiver. "You'll do."

Lex pulled back. "Will I?"

Lance grinned to himself and took another shot. The ball he was aiming for wavered on the edge of the corner pocket and stubbornly refused to fall in. He turned around and said, "We go well together, Lex."

"That remains to be seen," Lex said. He stepped forward, and their pool cues clicked against each other.

"Only in business," Lance said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Lex took a step back. "Well," he said calmly, looking at Lance. "You are here for business." He paused. "Aren't you?"

Lance wondered how long he could keep Justin waiting. It was the middle of nowhere, there were no cops out here, surely. They wouldn't be too late.

"Lex," Lance started, and then his cell phone rang. He cursed silently to himself. "Would you excuse me?"

"Certainly," Lex said, and it was probably only Lance's imagination that Lex was getting more aggressive with the pool cue caressing.

Stepping out into the hallway, Lance answered the phone. "Hello?" he said. A staticky voice started shouting at him. "Chris? Is that you?" The voice said something resembling yes. Lance frowned and shook his phone a few times. His reception sucked out here. "Hold on, let me get outside," he said. He wandered away down the hallway, down the stairs, and toward the door. The voice cleared up.

"And JC won't stop calling me and leaving songs on my voice mail, and at the last awards show I went to Eminem threatened to have his homeboys kick my elfin ass, and it's really hot out here, and I'm bored, and Lance, I miss you! Come back!" Chris finished.

"Er," Lance said. "Could you repeat all that?"

In the media room, Justin was getting tired of Lex's Playstation 2. The comic book collection had been interesting from a "Wow, even billionaires can be geeks!" perspective, but he'd kind of already known that because of, well, Joey. The DVD selection was extensive and impressive, particularly the Buffy the Vampire Slayer collections, but he didn't exactly have time to sit down and watch anything.

Justin glared at the big screen television. Maybe it was time to see what Lance was up to.

He ventured out of the room and headed for the direction he'd last seen Lance headed in. The place was huge- not like Justin had never been in a castle before, but it was a little disconcerting to see one right in the middle of Kansas like this. He peeked in doors as he passed them. Most of the rooms were dark, which ruled them out as possible office space. Finally, he leaned into a cracked door. Jackpot. There was a man at a desk, typing something on a laptop.

The man looked up. "Yes?" He frowned. "Justin?"

Justin walked in. "Justin Timberlake," he said, holding out a hand. The other man stood and shook it. "You're Lex?"

"Lex Luthor, yes." He sat back down. "Did you need something?"

"No." Justin shrugged. "I just got bored."

Lex raised an eyebrow. "Not enough to entertain you in the media room? You must be very hard to please."

"Well, you have a nice DVD selection, but it's not like I have much time. How did you get a hold of seasons four to six of Buffy, anyway? And where's Lance?"

"He's taking a call. And I had them sent in from Britain."

Justin frowned. "But you can't play those here."

Lex smirked. "You can if you have an all-region player."

"Those don't even exist yet."

"They do if you can afford them."

"Are you saying I can't?" Justin narrowed his eyes.

"Nothing of the sort. I'm sure you can afford whatever you want. Really, it's just a matter of having the right connections."

"I have connections," Justin said, irritated. "Tons of connections. You don't even know."

"I'm sure I don't."

"And I can afford whatever you have and more."

Lex's easygoing expression faded. "I doubt that."

"I could own your ass, Luthor," Justin said challengingly.

"Hardly. I could own yours sixteen times over, if it didn't already belong to your record company and the general public." Lex smirked. "At least my money doesn't come from the pockets of twelve-year-old girls."

"My ass is entirely my own. I don't bow to anybody," Justin said. He glared at Lex. That wasn't a sexy smirk at all. No, it wasn't.

"Be that as it may- your fortune comes from the fickle public. When you're penniless and clinging to your former glory, I'll still be here, and then we'll see who owns what."

"I will never be penniless," Justin said flatly. "And I have more than you could ever dream of having."

"Really?" Lex grinned malevolently. "Let's compare."

Downstairs, Lance was just finishing up his call, after promising Chris that he would fly out as soon as possible. He snapped the phone shut, and turned to head back up. And stopped abruptly.

A tall, dark, and rather attractive young man was headed towards him, his arms full of boxes.

"Hello," Lance said. "Do you need help?"

"No, I have it," the boy said, flashing Lance a grin that brought nothing but dirty thoughts.

"Then I'm sure you need company," Lance said, grinning back. "Where are you headed?"

"To the kitchen. Produce delivery," he said, nodding at the boxes he carried.

A farmboy, that was perfect. Lance decided that he loved Kansas. "Excellent," he said. "I'm quite thirsty." He followed the boy down the hall. "I'm Lance."

"Oh! I'm Clark," the boy said, blushing prettily. He pushed open the kitchen door and set the boxes down, then brushed his hands off on his jeans and held one out to Lance. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Lance said, enchanted. He shook Clark's hand for just a little bit longer than necessary. "Do you know where Lex keeps his glasses?"

Clark frowned. "I think they're over here" he said, reaching up and opening a cabinet. He pulled out a glass. "What do you want to drink? Lex always has good stuff in the refrigerator." He looked into the fridge, bending over to check the lowest shelves.

"Um," Lance said, torn between wondering exactly how well Clark knew Lex, and the divine sight of Clark's denim-clad ass. This boy couldn't be more than sixteen. What exactly had Lex been up to while he was away? "Juice of some kind?"

"Apple," Clark said, and took out a jug. "That good?"

"Great," Lance said. "You don't have to get it for me."

"I don't mind." Clark smiled, pouring Lance a glass. "So how do you know Lex?"

"I could ask you the same question," Lance said, taking the full glass from Clark and letting his hand linger for a moment, thinking of other questions he could ask. He wondered if Lex had finally settled down. This boy certainly seemed like the type to settle down for. And he was the produce delivery boy! He hadn't known Lex was into that sort of thing. Lance was amused.

"But I asked you first," Clark said, leaning against the counter. "Are you here on business?"

"That's a good question." Lance copied Clark's casual pose on the opposite counter. "I am here on business, this time. But Lex and I go way back. We had mutual friends, and a few memorable encounters in the VIP room at Club Zero."

"Oh." Clark frowned. "Encounters? So you were friends?"

Lance smiled to himself. "We shared...common interests."

"Like what?"

"Corporate holdings. Apple martinis. Light bondage." He watched Clark carefully, looking for signs of jealousy.

"You mean, you and Lex? Were..." Clark trailed off, a blush rising in his cheeks.

"We fucked once in awhile." Lance shrugged.

"I didn't know Lex was gay," Clark mumbled.

"So you two aren't fucking?" Lance said, frowning.

"What? No!" Clark said, alarmed. His blush increased, and he stared determinedly at the floor.

Lance narrowed his eyes and took a gamble. "But you've thought about it," he said easily, and moved closer, into Clark's personal space. He casually put his glass down on the counter.

Clark leaned further back into the counter. "Lex and I aren't like that?" he said, his voice rising slightly near the end, making it sound like a question.

"Didn't say you were," Lance said softly.

Clark swallowed. "We're not! Because, see, there's Lana," he said desperately.

Lance almost asked who Lana was, but honestly, he didn't care.

Clark fidgeted. Lance smiled, smooth, calculating, knowing he was close to something.

"Are you thinking about it now? You and Lex?" he asked softly.

His hips bumped up against Clark's, hands pressed to the counter on each side of Clark's waist.

Clark closed his eyes. Lance leaned forward, just barely applying pressure.

"Yes," Clark said.

Lance smiled. Triumphant.

Lex, meanwhile, had taken Justin to the garage in order to show off his Jaguar. They'd nearly come to blows over who owned more until Lex, exasperated that this kid had gotten him so riled up, had decided to show Justin what real wealth looked like.

"It's an exclusive," Lex explained. "Custom-made in Europe. Won't be on the market for at least three more years." He examined his nails. "But I'm sure you have something better than that, don't you, Mr. Timberlake?"

Justin seethed, vowing to get a better car, even if he had to call Mr. Jaguar himself. He was tired of this. He was Lex's age, and he knew he had more money, and fuck tact. Luthor needed to be shot down, and right now. "At least," he said coolly, "I didn't need my daddy to make my fortune for me."

Lex's eyes narrowed, and before Justin could even blink, he was slammed on his back on the hood of the Jag.

"You have no. Idea. What you're talking about," Lex bit off.

"Don't I, Mr. Luthor?" Justin said, shifting beneath Lex's touch, the hood of the car cold and smooth against his back. "It must be hard. Living in his shadow." He smiled an infuriating smile, pleased to have the upper hand. "Poor little rich boy."

Lex glared. Like fuck he had the upper hand. "I could make a call and blot out your existence, Timberlake. I could break your neck and bury you and they'd never find the body." He pushed harder, shoving his knee between Justin's legs.

"What's stopping you?" Justin said, breathless.

With one hand, Lex worked at his belt buckle. "I think you have far better uses than that."

"Mr. Luthor..." Justin said, but Lex cut him off.

"You're going to suck me off in about a minute, Justin. So please, call me Lex."

"Lex," Justin said smoothly, "let me help you with that." He sat up, reaching for Lex's slacks, unbuttoned and unzipped them, staring into Lex's eyes, hands working blindly. Lex gasped when Justin reached into his boxers, hot slide of silk suddenly replaced by warm fingers, dry and uncalloused.

His lips hovered not an inch from Justin's, breathing heavy and desperate. Justin's lips looked very, very pink, his tongue darting out to wet them.

Lex leaned closer, and replaced Justin's tongue with his own. Licked gently as Justin's hand built a slow rhythm, stroking up and down his cock in time with with Lex's licks. Justin's teeth nipped at Lex's lower lip. His unoccupied hand slid to Lex's hips, pulling him closer. Their hips pressed flush with barely enough room for Justin to maneuver. Lex threw his head back. Justin fitted a hand between them, unbuttoning Lex's shirt. He transferred his mouth to Lex's neck, sucking.

"Justin," Lex gasped. Trembling. Barely coherent. "Get on your knees."

Justin smiled, maneuvered Lex back against the hood of the car. Slowly slid to his knees. Lex leaned against the bumper. Shaking. Close to the edge. Needing Justin right. Fucking. Then.

Almost casually, Justin ran his tongue along the underside of Lex's cock. Then grabbed Lex's hips, and swallowed down as much as he could.

Lex started. Tried to say Justin's name, at least, but it was too much, Justin and the metal against his ass, the cold garage. His left hand tightly clutched the hood ornament. The other moved to the back of Justin's head, tangling in the curls there.

Justin sucked hard, pushing forward as far as he could go, guided by Lex's hand on his head, and Lex was thrusting, cock bumping the back of his throat, and it was so good, and Justin suddenly remembered his own raging hard-on. And Lex's taste was just. Different. Delicious. Money and salt, and he reached into his own pants, jerking them down, grasping his cock tightly.

Stroking rapidly, and Lex was thrusting harder, fucking his mouth, and Justin jerked up, down, up, down and then he was coming, so hard, and deep-throating Lex's cock and Lex pushed forward, one last hard thrust and then he was coming too, and.

The hood ornament broke off.

Lex stared at Justin, kneeling before him all angelic and wide-eyed, and at the silver jaguar ornament in his own sweaty hand. Too much. "Justin," he said.

Justin leaned back on his heels, looking pleased.

Lex held out the hood ornament, offering it to Justin.

"The fuck?" Justin asked.

"Souvenir," Lex said, smirking now.

"You FUCKER," Justin said.

Lex's composure was returning, slowly but surely. Yeah, Justin thought he had the upper hand. But Lex wasn't the one on his knees, was he?

"You're going to pay for this, Luthor," Justin said, scowling, then standing and tripping and straightening himself as fast as he could. Huffily, he turned and left.

"Hey," Lex called out, "don't you know how much this hood ornament costs?"

Justin's shouted "Fuck you!" was distant, but still audible.

Lex smiled, amused. He made a mental note to call someone about reaffixing the hood ornament, and wondered where Lance had gotten off to.

Lance, of course, was still in the kitchen re-enacting the last temptation of Clark.

Clark was much easier than Lance had expected, not that he was complaining.

Clark's eyes were shut, and his hips were moving against Lance's, just a little.

He didn't appear to be complaining either.

Lance leaned forward, and softly kissed Clark's jaw, slowly working his way to Clark's lips. When he got there, Clark was already kissing him back.

Clark fisted his hands in Lance's expensive suit, and pulled him back slightly.

"What are you and Lex doing?" Lance whispered.

Clark shuddered. "We're...this...this isn't..."

Lance sensed a disturbance in the lust. "Shh...yes it is. Don't worry. What is Lex doing to you?" Carefully, he slid his hands beneath Clark's shirt.

"He's. He's doing this. Only." He gasped. "Harder."

Lance grinned. Fun, fun, fun. He pulled Clark's hips forward, grinding against them almost aggressively.

Down the hall, Justin was storming. It was something he had a lot of practice at. He needed Lance. He needed to be out of there. Away from Lex fucking Luthor and his fucking custom Jag and his breathy moans and his goddamned superior smirk.


Justin paused. That didn't sound familiar. How easy was this Luthor bastard, anyway? How fucking fast could he move? Not to mention recovery time. And where was- oh god, Lance. No, no, no. Not Lance. Please, not Lance.

He hurried in the direction of the voice, and almost passed the kitchen door before he thought to look inside. Through the little glass window, he saw an impressively large kitchen. Dried herbs in the window, pots lining the walls, and his very own bandmate, grinding against some anonymous farmboy.

This was just getting better and better. Because the farmboy was getting off with Lance, and calling Lex's name, and Justin very nearly sprained something, so fast did he turn to find Lex and announce this fact to him.

And didn't it just fucking figure, that Lex was already back in his office, talking on his cell phone. Justin slammed the door open on the edge of announcement, and Lex, that fucking bitch held up a hand, gesturing for Justin to wait a moment.

Gesturing. For Justin. To wait a moment.

"Your boyfriend is in the kitchen fucking Lance!" Justin announced cheerfully.

Lex blinked. "I'll call you back," he said smoothly, and hung up.

He looked at Justin with an amiably blank smile. "My what?" He paused. "Lance is having sex in my kitchen?"

Justin looked extraordinarily pleased with himself. "Dark hair? Tall? Underage? Wearing flannel?" He paused, thinking it over. "Or, last time I checked he was wearing flannel. He's probably naked by now."

Lex paled, but otherwise showed no signs of emotion. "And he's fucking Lance in my kitchen?"

Justin grinned. It was a beautiful day. "Yes," he said.

Calmly, Lex stood and headed for the door. Justin bounced on his heels, glowing with triumph.

In the kitchen, Lance's hands were finding their way into Clark's boxers. Which were flannel, Lance noted with distaste.

Fortunately, Clark was making rather charming little breathy noises ever so often, which distracted Lance from any feelings that he was doing something very, very wrong and possibly illegal. Also, he was pretty.

And appeared to be in love with Lex, and Lance suspected the emotional consequences of that revelation would be severe and dramatic. He hoped he would be around to watch.

The kitchen door slammed open. Clark opened his eyes. "Lex!" he shouted.

"Clark!" Lex shouted, looking horrified.

Lance pulled back, giving Lex a look of casual curiosity, but secretly fighting the urge to clap his hands and say "whee! conflict!"

Justin laughed and laughed.

"I can explain!" Clark said desperately.

Three pairs of eyes focused on him, all deeply interested.

"Go ahead," Lex said, crossing his arms. Justin continued laughing.

"Um." Clark scratched his head, and began straightening his clothes. "Meteor rocks?"

Lance looked avidly from Clark to Lex. Meteor rocks. He would have to have his people look into that.

"Clark," Lex said disbelievingly.

Lance grinned. "Oh, I'm sorry, Lex. Is this *your* farmboy?"

"Yes!" Lex said.

"Lex!" Clark said.

"Um," Lex said.

Justin laughed and laughed.

Clark glanced at Lance. "I was thinking of you the whole time, Lex!" he said desperately.

"Really?" Lex said, interested.

Clark rethought that approach. "Well."

"If you're going to have substitute sex with someone, Clark, I think you could do better than a member of *NSYNC," Lex said.

Justin and Lance looked annoyed. "Wait," Clark said. He turned to Lance. "You're in *NSYNC?"

Lance looked supremely irritated.

Clark looked at Justin, still in hysterics behind Lex. "Oh man," he said. "Chloe is going to be so jealous."

"Clark," Lex said. "Focus."

"I am," Clark said. "I just made out with a boyband member."

Lex shrugged. "Well. At least it wasn't a Backstreet Boy." He shook his head. "So what is this, Clark? You have feelings for me?"

Clark blushed and looked at the floor. "It's more than that, Lex. I. The way I feel about you, it's...hard to explain."

Lex struggled for words. "Clark, you know I." He paused. "It's complicated."

"Could y'all slow down?" Justin asked, scribbling furiously on a notepad. "This is my next single right here."

Clark glanced at Justin. "Lex," he said, "Why are you hanging out with *NSYNC?"

"I am not hanging out with them," Lex said defensively.

"Yeah, I just blew him in the garage," Justin said off-handedly. Lex glared at him. "Ooh, was I not supposed to mention that?"

"You just blew..." Clark trailed off. "Lex! You and Justin?!"

"He blew me, okay?" Lex said defensively.

"Lex!" Clark said.

"You were going to fuck Lance IN MY KITCHEN, Clark. My KITCHEN," Lex pointed out.

"I was thinking of you the whole time," Clark pouted.

"Awww," Lance said.

"Shut the fuck up," Lex said to Lance.

"Were you thinking of me?" Clark asked tentatively.

"No, he was thinking of his hood ornament," Justin said.

"Don't you have a hell to go burn in?" Lex asked Justin testily.

Lance checked his watch. Justin getting insulted was not terribly original, and therefore boring. He probably had a business deal he could be making right now.

"Clark. We need to talk," Lex said.

Lance sighed and stealthily reached for his cell phone. He still had that reservation at the Metropolis Bar and Grill, and wanted to call ahead and make sure he got a good parking space.

"Lex," Clark said longingly.

Lex grinned. Lance sighed. Justin scribbled down notes.

"You two," Lex said to Lance and Justin. "Out of my castle." He turned to Clark. "Clark. My office?"

Clark looked down shyly. "Your bedroom?"

"Out. Now," Lex commanded, glancing at Lance and Justin.

Clark grinned sweetly at Lex.

"Woo hoo! Lex is gettin' some tonight! Er. Some more," Justin said. At that point, Lance was physically dragging him out of the kitchen.

"This," Lex said to no one in particular, "is why I don't like boybands."

"But you like me. Don't you, Lex?" Clark said.

"I do," Lex said smoothly. "Now, let me show you how much..."


Silverlake: Authors / Mediums / Titles / Links / List / About / Plain Style / Fancy Style