Her Heart's Desire

by a campbell

Kal/Lana, Clark/Lex NC-17

Spoilers general for S6. Warnings: Slight non-con, het sex.

Thanks to fajrdrako for the beta.

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Alone in the loft, Clark reached for his senior yearbook and dropped down on the couch with a heavy sigh.

The volume fell naturally open to its most-viewed page. A pretty, alluring face smiled up at him from its glossy surface. Lana Lang: the girl most likely to get her heart’s desire.

Clark stared at the picture for a long moment, then yanked the page from the book, wadded it into a ball, and tossed it toward the stairs with a curse. The ball hit the wood floor, skidded and bounced.

Everything he’d sacrificed for her, all thrown back in his face. Her life--he’d saved it countless times. Lost his father so she could survive, given up his own dream of happiness just to keep her safe. Now, whenever they met, caustic words and hostile glances were his only reward. Not that he expected gratitude; after all, she didn’t know the whole story.

He’d loved her so. He probably shouldn’t even begin going back to that painful place, but he couldn’t stop himself. His feelings for Lex, all meshed with his doomed love for Lana, so badly tangled that he didn’t know what was what any more.

He couldn’t stop longing for her, wanting her, even though he knew she wasn’t strong enough to bear the weight of his secret. Wasn’t strong enough to trust. After all, he’d loved her since they were both children. As near-adults, their time together had been cruelly short.

And now she was with Lex. Carrying Lex’s child. Lex, of all people, the one person he loved even more than he loved her.

Clark sighed heavily. It had all turned out worse than he could possibly have imagined. Sometimes, it felt as though everything he did turned into a disaster. It was making him crazy, all of it. So crazy he could barely contain himself.

And it hurt.

He looked over at his desk, x-rayed inside, zeroed in on the crimson glint, far back in the top drawer behind the box of staples and the highlighters.

The ring. Which he was still keeping around, even though he knew he should have deep-sixed it long ago. But he hadn’t. It was still there. Just in case. For when the pain got too bad.

Because red meteor rocks always made him feel better.

**

Clark rose and stepped over to the desk, then grasped the drawer handle and slid it open. As he did so, he noticed in surprise that he was holding his breath.

He knew it was wrong. And that he’d probably regret doing it. But right now, he didn’t care.

I just need a break from the pain. Just for a while. Just a break. It’ll be okay.

Gnawing his lower lip, Clark pulled out the box, opened it, picked up the ring and hesitated only a second before sliding it slowly onto his finger and over his knuckle. The ruby stone glinted in the rays of sunset streaming in through the loft window.

**

He found Lana lounging on the study couch sipping from a cup, a folded magazine on her lap. As he strode jauntily into the room in black jacket and pants, his traditional Red K outfit, she clutched at her half-open robe, drawing it around her body as she rose hastily to her feet.

"Clark. What are you doing here?" She was trying to look angry, he knew, but was only managing shocked and uneasy.

The fire crackled and popped in the grate. He launched his cocky Kal-smile in her direction and headed for the decanter on the cart, half-listening as her voice rose behind him.

"You have a hell of a lot of nerve barging in here like this. I’m going to call someone."

Lex was gone, he knew that already, business trip to Prague. He’d at least bothered to find that out. They were alone, all the security guards out cold--he’d become an expert at those sharp blows to the back of the head during his Metropolis days.

And now? He was going for it.

Kal snorted, then chuckled, lifted the decanter and poured, not bothering with ice. He raised the tumbler to his lips, tipped back his head and gulped, straight. Then swallowed and turned his smug gaze in her direction.

A deliberate belch. Loud. Lana glared at him in disgust.

"Are you even listening to me?" Furtively she backed over to Lex’s desk, not taking her eyes off him. She fumbled for the panic button on the right-hand side. Kal wasn’t fooled. He knew what she was doing; he remembered where it was. Lex had had to warn him not to push it more often than once, all those times he’d bent him back over the desk as Clark. Usually, he’d push it to the floor as he nibbled wet kisses up Lex’s throat above the open collar of his shirt.

Kal pushed the memory away, sweet though it was. He had other amusement tonight.

Lana was still watching him. He drew closer, and she drew back as he looked her up and down. The small swell of her stomach was evident beneath the silk of her gown. Uneasy at his broad, sweeping glance, she coasted her hand protectively over it.

Showing already, he thought with a shrug. Briefly, he considered x-raying through her hand and gown and into her belly, just for the hell of it. But why bother? He had no interest in babies. And, in the grand scheme of things, this one didn’t matter.

"You know," he said steadily, moving closer and dropping his voice to a throaty purr. "You know you want me."

Her eyes darkened as he approached. “I don’t believe you,” she hissed, just as she had in the Wild Coyote that early-autumn night so long ago. He laughed now as he’d laughed then, took both her wrists in his hands and backed her slowly into the wall by the fireplace, pressing his warm, strong body into hers.

She struggled briefly like a sparrow in his grip, glancing down, then back up. Kal could sense it, the moment she decided to stop fighting. He was amused at her wrestling with fear and desire, all of it visible in her face as he held her in his arms.

Kal dipped his head and nipped at her lips. They tasted of cocoa, whipped cream and cinnamon, and, after a brief moment, opened under his.

His mouth remembered hers. Lana could be tiresome, but her lips were sweet, her slim, small body supple and pliant in his grasp.

She gave a little sigh as he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the sofa. He laid her down on the cushions and pushed her silk gown up to her waist, then dropped to his knees and lifted her hand, traced her finger, then thumb, with the tip of his tongue. He moved his hands down her body and bent to bury his face in the thatch of hair between her thighs. His tongue probed the folds of skin, teasingly circled her clit, licked, then sucked as she whimpered and thrashed.

“Stop,” she gasped. “Please stop. Clark, please…"

He paid no heed. He knew she didn’t really mean it.

Her hands lifted to grasp his head, fingers threading through coarse locks. He smiled as he worked her, nestling in between her spread legs. Her gasps grew louder, but there were no more words, and within a couple of minutes she stilled and shuddered. He could almost taste the tremors coursing through her body.

With one last lick and kiss, he lifted his head and grinned up at her, tongue coasting over his wet lips. She didn’t see; her eyes were closed, but she stirred and opened them as he lifted himself up and off her.

He stood and stretched like a cat, then licked his lips again, coasting a palm over his hard cock, still encased in the leather of his pants. Lana’s gaze followed the movement of his hand, mesmerized. He fumbled with his belt, not taking his eyes from her face. She watched him unbuckle with glazed eyes and a hint of a reluctant smile.

“So, did I do that I better than Lex?” His cock was out, now, leaking and ready. He grasped it and stroked, up, then down, as she looked on in shamed fascination.

Lana seemed to come to herself. She turned to hide her face in cushions. “How could you?” Her voice quivered, half muffled.

Kal smirked, brushing his mouth with the back of his hand. "You loved it. You know you did."

No answer. He knew she didn’t trust herself, knew that, even if she didn’t say it, he was right on target. But she raised her head with a defeated sigh and turned onto her back again. Glanced at him, desire evident in her eyes. And waited.

He was on her in a flash, parting her legs with a leather-clad knee, on target in more ways than one. Entering her, driving into her, thrusting and pounding. Over and over. She met his thrusts with her own, arms wrapping around his back.

“Oh, Clark!” she kept gasping. “Harder!” Her hands fumbled, then and gripped at his shoulders as he felt her clench tighter around his cock.

And he obliged. He fucked her harder, panting, groaning, fingers twining around her throat, open mouth muffling her moans. He’d show her, damn it. It was her fault Lex didn’t love him any more, her fault...

He cried out when he came, angry tears burning in his eyes, release flooding blissfully through him.

The power.

He fought for breath as the rush subsided, burying his face in her neck.

The grasp of her hands on his shoulder slowly loosened.

As he raked a palm through her hair, the ring caught on a lock, slipped from his finger and tumbled to the floor.

**

Clark shook his head as his breathing slowed. He looked down, bewildered, then pulled back and scrambled to his feet in horror, staring down.

Oh, God. He and Lana had had sex again. Here, in Lex’s house. On Lex’s couch. After everything that had happened. He should have known that going on Red K again by choice was a stupid, stupid thing to do.

This should never have happened.

He tucked in and zipped up in a daze. “Lana,” he whispered. He had to apologize, to let her know--

She lay still and motionless, face drained of blood. Bruises on her chest and moist thighs, and on her throat.

“Lana,” he said, voice trembling, louder this time.

No answer. He fell to his knees beside the couch and gathered her up. She drooped in his arms like a limp doll, one arm hanging down.

"Lana. Oh, God," he muttered in a choked voice. "What have I done?"

She wasn’t breathing. She was dead. He’d killed her. Just the way he’d always feared he would, if he let his passions loose while in possession of his powers.

"Oh, God, no." Horrified, he let her lifeless body slide back down to the couch. He was cursed. He covered his mouth with both hands.

"Clark."

Clark started and looked up, letting his hands drop to his sides.

Lex stood in the doorway. Clark wondered dazedly just how long he’d been there.

He stared at Lex, mouth open, then closed it and swallowed hard. He lifted one hand to dash away tears that were welling in his eyes as he waited for Lex to speak.

What would happen now? What would Lex do to him? Turn him over to the authorities? Blackmail him, in return for his silence, into giving up his secret?

He waited. Lex stepped over to the couch, glanced coolly down at Lana’s body for a long moment and then back up at Clark. Looked Clark up and down the way he had in days gone by, then bent to pick up Lana’s limp hand and lay it on her chest.

"At least she died happy," he said with a shrug.

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