Destiny

It was with a sense of semi-relief that he didn't receive a response. After all, there were times when a guy simply had to rely on forgiveness rather than permission. Clark may look down upon the eccentricities of the fraternity rush practice but he knew Pete needed the connections. It wasn't like the young black man had a billionaire best friend.

Spying the plastic card among the insanity of the desk, Pete took a deep breath. It wasn't like he was stealing from Clark. He was borrowing an access badge. His friend wouldn't freak out on him… right? A friendship healed by time, trust, and shared pain was starting to rebuild.

But Pete needed the access badge for Club Destiny.

It was time to prove himself. Delta Kappa Epsilon was not an easy choice for a small-town raised young man. But, he knew it would provide him the connections he needed. Those connections would prove useful if he ever managed to work himself up to a Kansas congressman, or even senator.

And maybe, just maybe, it would all start if he could seriously impress the fraternity's president.

"Just borrowing this, man," was spoken to the empty room as Pete swiped the plastic card off the desk. For a moment, the logo flashed in the light. On the glossy black surface, the jeweled snake gleamed before disappearing into the depths of a denim pocket.

ckLLck

The bouncer took the plastic card, swiping it through a reader as Pete tried not to look nervous. Lana, more than pleased to support her boyfriend in his moment of anxiety, smiled sweetly. Her hand slipped around his wrist, petting gently at the racing pulse.

It was only moments later that the large gentleman stepped back and gestured to a woman waiting in a shadowed alcove. She beckoned for the party to follow her as she entered the club.

Pete finally allowed the wide, triumphant grin to spread over his features. His arm tightened around Lana's waist for a moment before he shot a look at the other two couples. The fraternity president and vice-president had accompanied them, both with their dates. When they'd been seated in a private area on the second floor, a relatively isolated abode of calm in the thrumming rush of hedonistic delight, he no longer wanted to wait for the judgement.

"Well?"

Thomas O'Shea (of the Boston O'Shea's) took a final look over the club. It was a trick of the angle of the seating, the location of the sound equipment, and the design of the layout that kept him from having to yell over the throbbing beat.

"I'm impressed, Ross. You're definitely in, but I'd love to know how you worked it."

Pete only smiled and replied with a touch of humility, "I know people."

The question of exactly who he knew or how he worked the entry was lost as they began to enjoy their evening. It wasn't long before Pete and Lana were snuggled into their seats, sipping idly at their drinks.

"It's too bad Clark couldn't join us."

Lana registered Pete's mild flinch and turned her head. "You did invite him when you asked for his card, right?"

"He wasn't there." Even to his ears, it sounded like a poor excuse.

"Then how'd you get his card, Pete?"

Pete met his girlfriend's eyes sheepishly. "I just borrowed it, Lana. It's okay, Clark gave me the extra key to his dorm room for this kind of thing."

Lana's voice had that irritated edge to it when she replied, "He gave you his dorm key so that you could swipe an access badge to Lex's club and use it to impress a frat? You told me he loaned it to you."

"He did. I'll put it back on my way home. It's not like he ever goes out anyway. The thing was laying in practically an inch worth of dust. That can't be healthy."

"Whether or not Clark wants to date is his own business. Maybe he just doesn't like nightclubs."

"And maybe he's just a little too focused on Mr. Clean."

Lana sighed. It was an old argument and one that would likely be repeated many times. "They're very different people, Pete. A friendship takes a lot of work."

Pete mumbled a response, their conversation dying as the others rejoined them at the table. Jonathon, the frat's vice-president and Thomas' twin brother, watched his girlfriend stalk off to the restroom as he sat down.

"Problem?" Pete inquired hesitantly.

"Cecily's pissed. She's Catholic and there are two guys practically fucking on the dance floor."

Thomas shook his head. "She needs to get over it. If they go at it bare-ass out there, they're still not going to get thrown out."

Lana glanced over quizzically at Thomas' snickering date. "I'm sorry… Obviously I've missed something."

Candy, visibly intoxicated, pulled Lana from her chair. "This is not something you want to miss."

The two women stepped over to the railing, a perfect view down onto the dance floor below. At this angle, the music was louder. It pulsed in rhythm through the air, loud and primal. The sheer force of the beat encouraged one's breathing to change, their pulse to quicken until matched to the thrum.

A floor below, there was a cleared space in the crowd for the two men. It seemed that no one was getting closer than they had to or making any move to break up the display.

Lana sucked in a rapid breath at the sheer sensuality and steaminess of their clench. The shorter man was settled into the crook of the taller's thighs. Their upper bodies and groins plastered together. Fingers clenched in the dark hair of the taller, only to slide moments later to grasp at the black leather pants covering his ass.

It was becoming rapidly obvious that the shorter man had to be Lex Luthor. Shifting light glistened off his bald head, shimmering across a sprinkling of silver glitter. His torso was bare as well. His partner's hands stroked down the muscled back before forcing the billionaire infinitesimally closer with a possessive grasp on the eggplant leather painted across his lower body.

That grasp shifted once again. Despite being the shorter of the men, Luthor was six feet tall. While not heavily built, he was muscled and athletic. None of that mattered as his partner lifted him. Adapting, Lex anchored his legs around the man's hips and flung his head back as his neck was worshipped.

Lana knew her mouth had to be hanging open inelegantly but she never would have imagined this scene. She'd known Lex Luthor for years. His face had never been this open, this content. Idly, she wondered if he was on some drug.

And then he tensed in his partner's arms, his mouth forming a visible word as ecstasy took him. 'Clark.'

"Oh My God!"

Lana hadn't even realized she'd spoke aloud when Candy giggled and bumped into her side. "I know… Aren't they just the hottest thing?"

Dazed, she turned from the spectacle below. Her rapt attention to the floor disturbed, she didn't see the taller man's worried look shot to the balcony. And she would have no way of knowing that he'd immediately looked through the barriers to confirm both Pete and Lana's presence.

Lana eased back into her seat in their alcove. She leaned slightly into Pete, allowing the conversation about college life and the fraternity to drift over her. "I think I just found out why Clark doesn't date."

He had the chance to look at her quizzically before his attention was drawn back to the others. Pete's curiosity wanted to know to what his girlfriend was referring, but the tantrum being expressed by Cecily's return from the restroom drew his attention.

"I want to leave, Jon. I don't know why anyone would come to someplace like this!"

Pete knew his jaw was hanging open as her almost ranting diatribe was cut off by the calm voice of his childhood best friend.

"I'm sorry you feel that way… Cecily, wasn't it? Here at Destiny we try to provide an environment where one can make their own fate."

Lana was petrified at Pete's side, her greeting almost squeaked out as she flushed berry tones. "Clark."

He turned the luminescent grin of his youth on his former crush, seemingly unembarrassed. "Lana, it's good to see you here."

Cecily took the opportunity for a snide rejoinder, ignoring the insistent gestures of her date. "And there's certainly enough of you to see… don't you have any shame?"

Clark stood there, the impression of sweat still glistening on his upper body. From this close, the black leather pants were not only well-fitted but had that aura of expense. He shifted his arms, hooking thumbs in the waistband until it became obvious that there was no possible way underwear would fit under that slim covering. For all that his stance claimed comfort in his own skin, he had not yet met Pete's shocked gaze.

"I am not ashamed of who I am. If you are uncomfortable, perhaps it is time for you to leave."

The O'Shea brothers, rapidly piecing together the situation, began to panic. From the scene below and his manners here, this was not some rent-boy picked up by the Luthor scion. It was rapidly becoming apparent that if they didn't want to kiss their aspirations goodbye, they would make some attempt to appease this man.

It was Thomas who spoke up, his tone conciliatory. "You know, Pete, I think the ladies have had enough excitement tonight."

The twins stood, their dates clasped firmly in that subservient manner of the arm decoration. Pete still watched wide-eyed, knowing precisely what would happen if he ever attempted to treat Lana in that fashion.

"We'll see you at induction, Pete. Sorry about the fuss, sir."

The last, directed at Clark, finally broke Pete's paralysis as the twins rushed their accompanying ladies from the room.

"Clark, man, what the fuck is going on?"

Clark sighed, suddenly the indefinably insecure young man from his high school years. He took one of the abandoned chairs from the table and, turning it around, straddled it. His hands linked across the back as he perched his chin on them.

"Pete… There's something I haven't told you."

He took a deep breath, obviously ready for true confessions, when he paused. He turned his head slightly, acknowledging an employee who stood just at polite waiting distance.

"What is it, Cindy?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kent. Paul radioed that four of your guests had left and wanted me to check on the remaining two."

Clark's attention turned back to Pete. "Four of my guests?"

The barest edges of the guilty flush showed through Pete's dark complexion. Clark didn't wait for an explanation before turning back to the employee.

"It's okay, Cindy. Bring me a round of whatever Pete and Lana ordered earlier, a Coke for me, and have a glass of Armagnac sent up."

Clark turned back to Pete and Lana, sighing heavily as the waitress moved off. "Pete, I'm going to need my card back."

The young black man handed it over without protestation. He was silently thankful that his friend wasn't raising any fuss about the unauthorized loan. But his peace with the situation didn't last long.

"Clark, do you really think Lex is okay with you ordering his staff around?"

Clark glanced at Lana as she smiled slightly. From the heavy blush that tainted her features when he met her eyes, he knew that at least she was aware of the situation and unlikely to object.

"Well, Pete… The first thing I need to tell you is that they're not Lex's staff."

"But it's his club?"

"No, actually, it's not, Mr. Ross."

The new voice brought the trio's attention to the referenced business magnate. A partially buttoned silver silk shirt hung loose over dark plum leather pants. He was casual as he made the final approach to their table. Lana noticed as his quick hand on Clark's shoulder idly merged into a fingertip caress before he resumed his personal space.

"The club is Clark's, as are several other properties under the same trust and management company."

Pete gaped at Luthor for a moment before turning to Clark. His thoughts were clear in his eyes and stern face. There was no need for even a whisper of the word 'gigolo.'

"Now, it's not like that Pete."

"Then why don't you tell me what it is like, man… Since, from what I see, it looks an awful lot like you're the little woman and we both know that's not possible."

Clark and Lex shared a speaking glance. It was silent once more as their drinks arrived. Clark used the opportunity to turn his chair around until he was sitting properly. His hand, resting lightly on the table, was picked up by his bald companion. Lex's minute nod gave him all the encouragement he needed.

"Actually, Pete… There is more paperwork - contracts, agreements, rights of survivorship, and powers of attorney - between us than there are for most people. It would probably take longer to undo than your average divorce."

Pete looked from Lex to Clark and back again. Despite his ingrained hatred of Luthors, he had always been able to see that Lex made Clark happy. He'd been concerned first with losing his friend and then with the idea that he'd be used. But this… This sounded distinctly different.

It was Lana who spoke first. "What are you saying Clark?"

But it was Lex who answered her. "What he is trying to say is that in the eyes of all but the State of Kansas, Clark is my spouse. The separate businesses are for his protection and support, should my father attempt anything against us."

Pete had managed to compose himself fairly quickly. He was able to meet the expectant looks around the table. Lana was waiting for his reaction. She'd never truly outgrown her tendency to let her significant other lead the way. Clark was hopeful, but guarded. And Lex… Lex's eyes told him that he was only important in how he affected Clark.

"Well, damn man… What's there left to say but congratulations?"

ckLLck

The morning sun was tinting the sky above Metropolis as the express elevator whisked them swiftly towards the penthouse. Lex leaned back into the warm embrace, the arms draped around him tightening ever so briefly.

"When are you going back to the dorms?"

"Tomorrow morning, when you head down to work."

Lex's soft hum of acceptance was smothered by their kiss. They strolled together through the apartment to the back bedroom suite. Here, Lex's things meshed comfortably with Clark's in a lived-in fashion.

Distracted from his preparations for bed, Clark reached out until he could touch his lover. "Lex, we talked about this… I don't care who knows."

"Clark, I'm doing it for you."

"But if you don't want to hide anymore…"

Lex hushed him with a kiss. Their hands became distracted by proximity until the only slightly shorter bald man pulled away. "It's fine for now. But when you graduate…"

"Yes, yes, I know. Gala presentation to society, press insanity, no more secret life, etc."

With a snort at Clark's words, Lex continued to strip. "Maybe only one secret life. I refuse to be publicly associated with anyone who wears that much Spandex."

A balled up sock bounced off the side of Lex's skull. It was eloquent commentary in a running dialogue. But it was followed moments later by yards of warm skin, soothing the rebuke.

"Bed, love."

Allowing himself to be maneuvered about, Lex settled down for sleep in his favorite location - Clark's arms.

Finis

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