Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Clark follows the well-dressed stranger through the Luthor mansion. His parents told him he had to go. Just a week before men in suits had shown up at the farm with contracts and threats. At their head was a man in a long black coat. His wild eyes homed in on Clark and never once looked away.

But what had really bothered Clark was how terrified his parents were. Yet they went along with it every step of the way. When the man and his lawyers presented nondisclosure agreements. When they pulled out syringes and drew Clark’s blood. Clark sat at the kitchen table, where they ate breakfast that morning. His parents loomed over him with tears in their eyes and watched it all happen.

He begged them for answers, pleading to understand. But they kept quiet and let the man in the black coat speak. He told them how Clark would not be harmed if everything went according to plan. He said the farm and their lives would be unperturbed. He said he’d be back if the test results showed what they all needed them to show.

And he bid them good afternoon.

Clark was left with questions and a sinking fear. His parents told him he wouldn’t understand, that he needed to do this to protect the family. His mother said he was too young, that they would figure something out. They told him to go do his chores and let them talk.

Over dinner Jonathan announced that they needed Clark to go along with whatever the man in the black coat asked. Lionel Luthor, they called him.

And a week later a different man in a suit came to collect Clark. He thought about fighting. He thought about running. No one could stop him. No one could catch him. But then his parents would be alone, at the mercy of Luthor and whatever he had on them that made them bend to his commands.

None of it made sense. But his parents were in trouble, that much was obvious. So, Clark got in the car and tried to figure out what to do next.

“Where are we going?” He asks the man in the suit. The winding halls lead deeper and deeper into the mansion. Clark nearly gets dizzy with all of the winding staircases and endless wood paneled hallways.

They stop at a door, dark wood, nondescript. The man faces away from Clark but does speak. “I am only permitted to tell you that your test results came back satisfactory. Good luck, Mr. Kent. Hopefully you won’t need it.” He opens the door and steps away. “Your parents are depending on you.” He reminds, face a mask of professional disinterest.

The urge to fight, to run, swell up inside his chest. But Clark can’t risk his parents like that. He wants answers and it seems whatever he’s meant to do here is just beyond the door. So, he steps inside.

The door closes behind him with a hush. The locks slide into place and Clark realizes he’s trapped. “Hey!” Pounding on the heavy door does little to change the situation, but it feels good. "What even is this? Come back!"

"Welcome, fellow inmate. Could you keep the screaming down? I'm trying to read." A voice calls from the far side of the room. Clark nearly jumps out of his skin.

He scans the room. Its high ceilings and massive glass windows make it seem huge at first. But there are bars on those windows. Inset bookshelves line the walls, insulating the room from the outside world. There’s only one chair by the window and a large bed takes up the majority of the floor space.

It is a cell. And his cellmate blinks at him as if he’s some sort of oddity to study. He’s young, maybe Clark’s age or a few years older at most. His skin is pale. It practically glows in the streaming light cut into slivers by the bars on the windows.

"Well, at least you're cuter than I expected you to be. A lot younger, too." The man’s angelic face twists to something snide when he speaks. Pretension drips from every word.

"You expected this?" Clark can’t fully wrap his head around what is even happening.

"I'm Lex Luthor, the omega and heir apparent to the Luthor name. I always expected to be forced into a mating I didn't want. The ultimate control over every aspect of my life by dear old dad. I'm almost surprised it took him this long to arrange it."

"That's sick. We need to get out of here and call the police." Clark needs to do something. They’ve been abducted, imprisoned.

"If we do that please rest assured whatever leverage Lionel Luthor has over you will drop down on your head and the heads of anyone you love." Lex puts his book down and walks closer. He takes in every detail of Clark’s body with a careful eye. It makes him want to squirm.

Whatever Lionel has on his parents must be devastating. They agreed to this, got Clark to agree to this lunacy. He could save them all. But what would happen if he used his powers in the heart of the Luthor mansion? What did Lionel really know? What had his blood shown? Clark knows if he lashes out without more answers first he’s risking even more. He’s risking his secret, his parents’ safety, their whole family.

Lex stalks around him, examining him like prey. “Why you? Who are you?” He asks with a sneer and a sniff.

“I’m Clark Kent and I don’t know why Lionel picked me. I know it has something to do with my parents owing him something big.” The older omega puts Clark on edge. His eyes look wild like his father’s, his posture threatening. If he had good enough scent blockers Clark is sure the man would pass for an alpha.

“It’s usually money.” Lex says offhandedly.

Clark figures it's a jab to get him to snap, or the guy really is that arrogant. “Maybe. But they seemed way too afraid of him and what he had over them.” Clark will always remember that look of fear in his mother's eyes. Even his father stunk of it.

“They’d lose everything if they went against him. My father is a vindictive man. He’d ruin them and everyone who knows them.” It almost sounds like a brag, but there's too much spite in Lex's tone.

“You underestimate how stubborn my father is. He’d hate to lose the farm, but he doesn’t give in to people like Lionel for something so petty.” Clark jumps to their defense. Over a week ago Clark would die on that hill. He knows his parents love him. He knows they’d never betray him or hurt him. This just doesn’t add up. If only they’d tell him what Lionel had, what was really going on.

“Pride, an exploitable weakness.” Lex crosses his arms over his chest, scanning Clark one last time. “Is it just because you’re a nobody?”

It's such a quick subject change Clark nearly balks at the insult. “Thanks.”

“I get why he wouldn’t trade me away to a business associate. He doesn’t trust anyone enough to risk his future name if I have children. So, he must think he can control you long term as well.”

“I don’t owe him anything.” Clark adds, though he figures Lex is pretty much just talking to himself from his glazed expression and wandering feet.

He pivots on his walk toward the bookshelves and points an accusing finger. “But you love your parents. They owe him something. Hmm, I think you’re right. It’s got to be more than money.”

“I still don't get it. Why am I even here?” Clark expects there's something dark and insidious planned for him. But then why is he stuck in a nicely furnished room with the son of his captor?

“Do I really need to spell it out for you?” Lex smirks at him. Clark's getting fed up with everyone knowing more than him.

“Wow, you really are that naive. You’re here to mate me. Clark Kent, my father has selected you to be my alpha.” He says with an over dramatic flourish.

“What?!”

"Welcome to the shit show, my friend. We’re to be locked in here for the next seven days until my heat runs dry…or you do." Lex saunters back to his seat by the window. Clark sinks down to the bed and realizes exactly how much trouble he’s in.

A quiet ring echoes from one of the bookshelves and Lex pops out of the chair. Slender hands pull a book from one of the shelves and the shelving unit sinks into the floor revealing a small elevator door. It’s too small for either of them to fit into but large enough for a tray of food.

Lex pulls the tray free, and the shelves relocate within seconds. He plops it onto the bed. Water bottles, snacks, and two small, covered plates spill onto the sheets. Clark blinks at it. He supposes this answers his question on whether or not they are going to be let out of the room at all in the seven-day timeline Lex had eluded to.

Filled with even more questions than before Clark looks up to his companion just in time to see the man strip off his form-fitting button up shirt. His compact frame holds some faded bruises on his ribs. Clark looks closer to see a strange scar at the center of his chest. It’s a stark white slash, years old.

"What? The shirt's too tight. My skin is crawling." Lex complains. Clark realizes how closely he’s staring. He turns away, cheeks on fire. “Oh, come, come now, see something you like?" The omega teases.

"Not really." Clark says honestly.

"Excuse me?" He gasps with the clear indignation of someone who’s used to being desired.

Clark huffs. "You’re not here because you want to be. Neither am I. Being forced to mate and bond when neither of us is consenting…no, I'm not interested in that." And he’s worried that’s going to be a major problem. The blood tests, his satisfactory results, it all makes an unsettling picture of what Lionel wants from the Kents, and Clark in particular. Unfortunately, it matches what Lex is telling him in his own, unsettling, and dickish way.

"How very righteous of you. But hold that thought. It's day one. We'll see how uninterested you are when my heat really kicks off." Lex snatches a bottle of water from the bed and storms off to the bathroom.

Clark drops his face into his hands and tries to take it all in. He’s trapped in the Luthor mansion with the son of his captor. He’s being held hostage to serve as a stud for the unruly son of a billionaire. It all sounds so made up. But Clark supposes, being an alien that crash landed to earth only to be raised by loving Kansas farmers sounds just as crazy.

They expect him to be an alpha. All of them. Even his parents most likely think things are just going to take their “natural course” and Clark will be helpless against the urge to mate and omega in heat.

Only he’s not going to do that. Clark can sense Lex’s heat. He can smell the sweet saccharine aroma clawing its way up his nose. He can hear Lex’s accelerated pulse. Right now, he can hear the other man jerking off in the shower. It’s something Clark’s learned to tune out all of his life. He’s always been aware he’s different. Not just his super strength, and speed, and senses. There are some things he's just…missing.

It never felt like there was something wrong with him. He doesn’t think he’s broken or incomplete. He just doesn’t feel the same urges like everyone around him. As soon as he hit middle school it was all the rage to guess everyone’s secondary gender. Betting pools abound, rumors flourish in small towns especially.

Clark was easily called out as an alpha. He’s tall, broad, strong, though what most called a late bloomer, it was never a question what he would present as. But when did his people present their full genders? Did they even have secondary gender? Did they even mate to reproduce? Sure, Clark had urges but they never quite lined up with what everyone around him told him was normal. There’s so much Clark has no hope of knowing. His heart aches from loneliness. He doesn’t want to be an alpha. He just doesn't want to be alone.

Fretting wasn’t likely to get him anywhere tonight. Toeing off his shoes he elects to just get into bed. He’s not hungry. He’s too frustrated to read. He’s scanned the room with every heightened sense he can, and nothing offers promise for an easy escape.

He’ll figure something out in the morning. Dread weighs on him more heavily than the thick down comforter. He wishes it would crush him completely.

Lex whistles his way out of the bathroom about an hour later. The room is nothing but shadows now that the sun has set. He flips on a bedside lamp and plops down on the far corner of the bed opposite Clark.

"So, do you like living out here in the middle of nowhere?" He asks, either aware Clark isn’t asleep or apathetic to his rest.

"Do you care?" Clark doesn’t bother to turn and face him.

"No. But I'm bored. Might as well get to know my cellmate and future alpha." He says with foe gravitas.

"You're a spoiled brat." It’s pretty obvious even from the limited information Clark has. Walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, it’s a duck. And this duck is a spoiled billionaire heir who doesn’t know how to leave well enough alone.

"And you're a boring, sheltered little pawn." Lex snaps back.

"Goodnight, Lex." Clark rolls even farther towards the edge of the bed.

"Don't goodnight me! Hey!" Lex throws a pillow at his bedmate. Clark catches it with ease, not even bothering to look up.

There’s a long silence. Clark hopes it means Lex might actually give up. He should know better. Clark’s never been that lucky. The air between them thickens with the scent of fear, then anger. Clark gives in to it first, figuring Lex might actually combust if he doesn’t get the attention he craves. "What?"

"How are you even doing this?" Fury, but it’s tinged with something rancid.

"Doing what?" Not sleeping, that’s for sure.

"Ignoring me! I'm in heat. You should be frothing at the mouth for me." Lex pounds down on the mattress.

Clark doesn’t even bother to fight the urge to roll his eyes. "You've got a very high opinion of yourself."

"It's not—it’s basic physiology. Not that they ever teach you people things like reproductive health out in the middle of goddamn nowhere."

Clark twists up with a responding ferocity. "How do you talk to people like this then not understand when they don't want to interact with you?" He shoves Lex’s pillow back at him.

"I–" Lex stops, his face breaking just a little, just at the edges. He sits back, his whole body melting a little in the dim light. "I'm sorry."

Shock strikes Clark. He’s almost worried. He never expected a real apology out of someone like Lex.

"My defense mechanisms are mostly me being intolerable until people leave me alone." Lex isn’t even looking at him. His luminous eyes stare at the luxurious bed linen between them.

Clark’s heart breaks a bit for the guy. He can understand Lex’s behavior, not that he wants to excuse it so easily. "Sounds lonely." He concedes.

"Better than being surrounded by liars and assholes." Lex wrinkles his nose, obviously able to recall more than a few of those specific liars and assholes in his life.

"I guess. Still sucks."

The omega shrugs with a noncommittal twist of his lips. "Yeah." There’s a long stretch of silence between them. Lex pulls his knees to his chest. He looks so devastatingly small. "But I'm serious. You shouldn’t be able to resist when I’m this far into my heat. I’ve been bracing for…” Lex chokes on the words. He blinks back tears and swallows past the pain. To Clark it looks awful, but he knows it’s not his time to speak. He doesn’t want to name the things Lex was likely expecting either.

Lex forces himself on. “I’ve been shedding fuck-me-pheromones since yesterday before they even shoved you in here. You're not even showing preliminary signs of rut.”

Clark’s gut twists. Lex is right. He doesn’t know the full extent of his nature, but he’s got more than a few theories and as the hours tick by sharing this tiny space with an omega Clark is more and more sure. He doesn't have answers either way. "Maybe I'm a late bloomer." It’s the same excuse he and his parents hid behind since Clark first hit puberty.

"No." Lex is so sure it’s startling.

"Could be. There's nothing wrong with that. Lots of people don't go into rut or heat until way later in their teens, even early twenties."

"Now who's defensive?" He sees through Clark’s tactic so quickly it’s infuriating. "There's no way my father would set this up unless he was one hundred percent sure of the outcome. This isn't a gamble to him, it's a business deal. But you kept something from him."

"He knows everything." Clark’s sure of it. Lionel Luthor knew what Clark was somehow. When Lionel’s people took Clark’s blood his parents weren’t even that worried. Somehow this billionaire from Metropolis knew Clark wasn’t human and his parents knew he knew…there was plenty that didn’t make sense, but Clark was slowly tallying up everything he could put together.

"Look at you, innocent little farm boy, but you got one over on Lionel Fucking Luthor." Lex stares at him with awe.

"I didn't—nope. Not engaging. Good. Night. Lex." Clark rolls back over and away. The room goes dark, and Lex blessedly stays quiet.

Sleep doesn’t come easy, but eventually it comes.

Chapter Text

From the moment Clark opens his eyes Lex volleys theory after theory at him as to what might explain his ability to resist an omega in heat. The bald man looks ragged, gaunt with deep circles around his eyes. But his mouth runs constantly, powered by some manic energy that won't let up for a second. Working his way through an entire box of chocolate-covered cherries he chews loudly and points with accusing, chocolate-covered fingers.

"You're a cyborg who killed then replaced the real Clark Kent?"

"No."

"You're a secret evil clone who killed then replaced the real Clark Kent."

"No. Why do I have to die in so many of these?"

"Closes up loose ends." Lex waves him off, sucking at his pointer finger then sticking it right back in Clark's face. "You've been a secret beta all along, masquerading as an alpha."

Clark sighs dramatically. He snatches a cherry from Lex's clutches, earning himself a hiss from the omega. "I'm alpha. Your father had me tested. That's not even a good guess."

"That's why it's so low on the list!" Lex shouts. "Sometimes the dumbest explanations are the right ones."

"Everyone thinks they're so stupid they don't bother to look into it." Clark adds.

"Exactly!" Lex tosses the empty box at the trash can by the door and misses. He frowns and falls back onto the bed, not bothering to go pick it up.

"That's not it, though." Clark sucks the cherry skins from between his teeth. The treat isn't half bad, but he'd kill for something less sugary. Lex has a sweet tooth. It seems the meal plans are catered to his favor, not Clark's.

"Moving on!" Lex's arms sweep out like he's directing some orchestra of lunacy. "Chimera. You're also your own twin…who was not an alpha, but they tested the blood in your right arm which is alpha so you test one way but you really aren't!"

Clark looks at him with pity. The poor man's clearly gone insane. "Do you ever sleep?"

"Can't sleep til I get my brains fucked out, Clark. Keep up." He slaps his hands together. His sassy tone belies his true anger. But Clark can feel it, simmering beneath his cracking veneer.

"Is it the heat or are you just always like this?" He's honestly curious. He'd never read any of the gossip columns about the rich and infamous. He knew nothing of his parents' secret benefactor or his son.

"Heat makes it worse, but it's probably me. I'm usually at ten, the hormones just crank me to eleven." Lex drops his arms back to the bed, his body completely still. His voice goes soft, but Clark's keen ears pick up every word. "I haven't had a decent night's sleep since I was a kid. Not without chemical restraints."

He doesn't like the way that sounds. Lex seems to speak hyperbole and exaggeration fluently, but every word is at least based in truth. Clark didn't doubt the validity of this one. "I'm sorry."

"Only be sorry you're not fucking me to sleep, farm boy." He sighs.

"Lex." There’s a boat load of reasons that’s not going to happen. They both know it. Clark can smell Lex’s fear each time he implies or straight up says they need to have sex. Clark remembers Lex isn’t here by choice either. They’re both prisoners. They both have so much to lose.

"What's the answer? I need to know." Lex rolls and army-crawls up the bed until he’s all but in Clark’s lap.

"You need to sleep." Clark doesn’t like how ill Lex looks, his skin practically translucent, his eyes sunken deeper into the sockets than yesterday.

“Maybe I’ll sleep if you tell me the answer.” The bright, crazed look didn’t make him seem any less ruined.

“I don’t know the answer.” And it’s the truth. Clark has some theories, but he needs a lot more information to know if any of it is true. For all he knows he could snap at any moment and become the rut crazed alpha society expects alphas to be. It could be worse even with Clark’s powers. He could hurt Lex, kill him before he even knows what’s happening. It all sours Clark’s stomach and makes him grind his teeth.

“You know way more than you’re telling. I know when someone’s lying, even if it’s by omission. You’ve got a bad poker face, farm boy.”

“I’m allowed to keep personal details private. I know that must infuriate you Luthors, not holding all the cards, but some things are just for me and my family to know and you and your father to not.” Clark’s words hit right on target. Lex looks gutted. The omega can’t even form any words, just blinks at Clark in horror.

Five more days? Or was it four? Six? Clark stands, figuring he’d better do something other than sit in bed and argue. No one is going to win anything locked in this room. “I’m going to go shower.”

He steps away from the bed and Lex stays silent.

The water feels good. Warm with amazing pressure. Two shower heads, two, Clark can feel the jealousy at the silver spoon Lex was born with. Though from what he’s gathered Lex has had a lot of other drawbacks in his life. He jumps between feeling sorry for the guy and thinking about telling him to go cry into his money.

It’s lose-lose either way. Lex doesn’t seem the type to team up and work together to solve a problem. Making enemies outright seems just as stupid and it’s not Clark’s way anyhow. There will always be a part of him that wants the best for everyone, even Lex.

Clark opens a new toothbrush and runs a comb through his wild hair. He feels cleaner, but not any better. He wonders about his potential to go into rut. He has enough alpha tendencies and build for everyone to think he’s an alpha. His super hearing and smell, his strength and speed. Lionel’s blood tests all checked out apparently, or he wouldn’t be locked in this room.

But what did those blood tests really say? Clark isn’t even human. Could he still be an alpha? Was he just going to go into a superhuman rut one day and kill people? Or die because there was no possible mate for him on earth?

Even more lost than when he’d stepped into the bathroom Clark walks out dressed in the clothes he brought. He’d checked all the closets and drawers, there were some clothing items, but all for Lex. Nothing would fit him without cutting off circulation. He guessed he wasn’t supposed to need any clothing for the week. The thought sickens him more.

Lex sits curled up in the large armchair by the window. The sun streams down over his pale skin. He looks like some self-satisfied house cat. It’s probably the perfect metaphor, he’s just as likely to purr as lash out with claws no matter what Clark does.

Sitting down on his side of the bed Clark notices it smells different, sweet, and musky. He scans the sheets and pulls in a deeper inhale.

"Did you…on my side of the bed!?" He can't even bring himself to say it. He can't believe Lex would do something so—no, wait. Yes, he totally would. At least when he meets Clark's eye he looks embarrassed. Though it doesn't last very long.

"You really don't get it, do you?" Lex unfurls from the armchair, claws out.

"Get what? Your blatant disregard for the personal space of others?" It’s not even Clark’s room, but they both knew who slept where. The unspoken truce of personal boundaries was there. And Lex had gone and run all over it.

"I'm in pain, ok? It hurts going through a heat alone. And you smell good. You might be broken, or whatever you are, but your pheromones still do the trick to make it hurt less." Lex shouts at him. His bright eyes sparkle with tears. Clark wonders if it’s from pain, or shame, or both.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"Great. Now you know." Lex snaps.

"How else can I help?" Clark wants to help. He’s just wired for it. This won’t even be the first time helping is going to get him in over his head. But he can’t help himself.

"Clark." Lex warns. They both know the easy answer.

"Not like that. Like the bed thing, if my scent helps then here." Clark peels off his shirt.

"Damn." Lex ogles Clark with impunity. Clark knows what he looks like. He’s been bullied and come on to for his looks since he was far too young. It’s something he doesn’t allow himself to be proud of considering it’s mostly from his weird alien genetics. A six-pack didn’t take thousands of sit ups for him, just waking up and doing his chores. His body isn’t a prize for himself or others, it’s just proof of the freak he is and will always be. Clark doesn’t like to think about it. And that must show through on his face.

"What? I can't objectify you even a little bit?"

“It’s complicated.” Clark pushes his feelings down hard and fast. It’s not something he can just talk about with anyone. One of his many secrets, one of his many walls he has to put up to keep his family safe.

“Tell me about it. Anyone ever calls me a pretty little omega and I tend to go off the deep end.”

“I could see that.” They both chuckle.

Lex lifts his chin with pride. “It’s why I’m not allowed to own or be near a set of golf clubs anymore. I’m a repeat offender.”

“Golf clubs?”

“Long reach, lightweight but packs one hell of a wallop. Plus, it’s pretty inconspicuous for a rich kid to just happen to have a set in the back of his car.” He smiles at that, genuine and warm. Clark’s astounded by how good it looks on the other man. He still looks a mess, but true confidence shines differently on him.

“I bet you’re pretty good at making people regret underestimating you.” He holds the shirt out as a peace offering.

“You have no idea.” Lex snatches it away and quickly whips his own shirt off. Clark averts his eyes. He’s pretty sure he hears a snort of laughter from the omega as he does it. “Thanks.” It’s soft but it’s there, floating between them.

Clark holds that soft bit of vulnerability like a pearl. He doesn’t think Lex gets to be like that anywhere in his life. It’s precious. Deciding it’s safe enough to turn back, Clark looks up just in time to see Lex’s knees shake and nearly buckle. The omega catches himself on the bed and Clark is there. Using just a bit of super speed he has Lex braced against his body, keeping him from falling to the floor.

"I thought the shirt would help." He doesn’t care what Lex sees. From the pale, withdrawn look on his face Clark doesn’t think he can focus on much of anything.

"It does. It is. I'm just kinda lightheaded." Lex continues to sway, his usual comebacks nowhere to be found. It terrifies Clark.

"Come on, lay down and put your feet up." He doesn’t wait for a response. Lex’s weight feels like a feather in his arms. Pulling pillows from the top of the bed Clark props them under Lex’s legs for elevation. "You okay?"

"A bit better." Lex's words blend with a huge yawn. But his face looks less deathly pale. When Clark listens intently he can hear Lex’s heartbeat, steady and sure. It gives him some relief, but he still doesn’t like how weak Lex seems to be. He moves around the room, drawing the curtains and plucking a water bottle from Lex's stash of hoarded food and drink.

"Here, drink this, then you need to sleep." Clark holds up the water and helps Lex prop up slightly to drink it. He stays at the head of the bed, acting as Lex's pillow since the other pillows are being used under his legs.

"Can't sleep." Lex yawns the whole way through the words.

“Give it a try. I’ll be here the whole time.” Clark promises. Lex tries to protest, but his words get lost to the dreariness of sleep. His breathing changes to a slow, deep rhythm, every muscle relaxing after days of tension.

Clark leans back against the headboard and breathes. Just a few more days and this will be over. He still hasn’t quite sorted out how to save everyone from this mess, not even himself. He wishes he was as cunning as Lex. The other man would probably have a dozen plans for escape and rescue at this point if he had Clark’s powers. But here they sit, brains and brawn not able to figure their way out of this mess apart and too mistrusting to work together.

Going over the facts in his head again and again Clark finds himself falling under the pull of sleep. He might not have all of the same instincts of a true alpha but resting in a comfortable bed with someone snoring adorably in your lap is universally relaxing. They have time and Clark can work out more of a plan to save them after a nap. It's not like he's been getting a lot of great sleep lately either.

Chapter Text

Clark wakes up to the sound of flushing from the bathroom. Only half aware he watches in the dim of the room as Lex shuffles back towards him on uncoordinated feet. With eyes still closed Lex gets back into bed, snuggling into the sheets and into Clark’s chest.

The smaller man is warm, he’s relaxed, and it feels good to hold him close. Clark does his best not to overthink the moment. Lex is seeking comfort. He’s beyond exhausted and clearly his heat is still running him ragged. Taking a small whiff Clark can smell the difference in scent compared to the first day. It’s deeper, like caramel once cool now piping hot and bubbling. He can’t even imagine what it feels like from the inside.

They sleep until their next meal gets delivered via the secret dumbwaiter. Clark would love to just nap the day away, but he knows Lex needs to eat. With a grumbled protest and few other full words Lex eats and drinks what Clark feeds him. Color is back on those sharp cheekbones by the time they finish everything on the tray.

The air of the room remains calm and serene. They barely speak, electing instead to pile books in the bed and read for hours, lounging. It's hard to tell how much time passes with the heavy curtains drawn and no clocks in the room. Clark remains shirtless as Lex hasn’t offered to give his clothing back. Lex stays pretty nearly glued to Clark's side, resting his head or feet in Clark's lap depending on which position gives him better lighting in the moment.

Lex’s petulant attitude returns. Though, instead of irritation it gives Clark hope the omega is actually feeling better.

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Clark hovers close, not touching, but ready to scoop Lex up if his knees give out again.

"Yes. Mother. Just like I was the last three times I went to the bathroom." Lex glares at his bed partner, eyes twinkling with a brightness Clark’s learned to associate with the heat.

"This is different. People fall in the shower all the time."

"There are grab bars." Lex shakes his head as if Clark is the one being illogical.

"What if you pass out again?" He’s crowding Lex. He knows he is. He can’t help it. The thought of Lex getting hurt when he’s just a few feet away sets him on edge.

"I didn't even lose consciousness last time. And I'm fine."

"I can tell you're in pain." Clark isn’t above playing dirty. He doesn’t like pointing out Lex's weaknesses when it's gender based. But he can smell the sharp, hot twist of cortisol spiking Lex’s blood when he hurts. Clark can sense the contraction of so many of Lex’s muscles, more than he needs to get up and move, the heightened tension of each step.

Lex lets out a sound, half holler, half sigh. "So best not to stall. I'm gross. I need a shower." He glares at Clark for a solid minute. “Damn your puppy-dog pouting! Look, fine! Just sit there with me on the toilet or something. I'll be fine."

Taking it for as good of a compromise as they’re likely to get, Clark follows Lex into the bathroom. He turns slightly away as the other man strips down, still shameless though moving carefully. Clark focuses on folding up the discarded clothes as Lex starts the water and steps behind the translucent glass that obscures the shower from the rest of the bathroom.

Focusing on Lex’s heartbeat, Clark sits down on the toilet. He hears Lex’s breath grow more ragged. For a moment he’s ready to shout at him for trying to jerk off when he’s feeling so shitty. Then he smells the tears. He can hear Lex grip the garb bar suddenly.

“Lex?” Clark is on his feet before he can decide what to do.

“Go away, Clark, please.” Lex's voice shakes. If Clark didn't have super hearing he probably wouldn't have even been able to understand a word.

“Lex, I’m not going to leave you like this.” He's stuck. They both are.

“But you’re not going to help me either.” Pain. There's so much pain in his voice.

“You know that’s not safe. And it’s exactly what your father wants.” Clark argues. He's angry at the world, angry at human biology, angry at Lionel Luthor.

“I know! But it hurts so fucking much.” Lex collapses to the shower floor.

That does Clark in. He charges under the water, still wearing his pants and socks. He reaches out to grab Lex up in his arms but stops himself. What might happen if he touches Lex? Would he go full alpha? Could he control himself holding a needy, wet, desperate omega?

"Please, Clark, please." Lex shivers as he begs, eyes closed against the shame of his weakness.

The injustice of it all works to make Clark sick. He knows he'll be hurting Lex in some way whether he touches him or not.

"I promise to do what I can to help you, Lex." Clark hates his words, hates their dumb bodies. But in the end he knows he is in a position to help Lex, so he will. Pulling the man up off the floor Clark handles him gently. He presses Lex's back against his chest and keeps him on his feet. "Is this okay?"

"Yes, fuck, yes, just touch me." Lex trembles but gives his command with a strength that holds Clark in awe.

His own body stirs with interest, but he shoves it back down. This isn't about him getting off, this is for Lex. He never asked to be made love to, never even asked for sex. He's asking, begging, to be touched. He just wants relief from something his body is forcing him to go through without his consent.

That Clark can understand.

Clark lowers his head to the space between Lex's neck and shoulder. He knows there's a mating gland there. He knows it is a really sensitive spot for most omegas. Judging by Lex's mewl when Clark brushes past it, it's a pretty sensitive spot for Lex.

The water helps dull Lex's scent, but Clark can pick it up. It spikes with each gallop of heartbeats and spices the air along with Lex's moans and whimpers. Clark uses it to guide his movements as he presses in close, molding himself to Lex's smaller frame.

He keeps a firm hand at the center of Lex's belly. It's probably the only thing keeping him upright on shaky legs. With his other hand Clark maps out each and every contour of Lex's body, searching for that relief, giving him touch and skin and sensation.

Lex's hips roll, pressing back into Clark's wet jeans. He gasps in gulps of air and Clark hopes his scent is right. He has no idea what a real alpha would do right now.

Voice pitched low, Clark whispers into Lex's ear. "Touch yourself for me." His own hands stroke up and down Lex's trembling thighs, but he has no idea what to do to please the omega.

He's no great lover. He doesn't know what Lex likes. And there's no way he's just going to try something he's seen in porn or heard in a locker room with Lex this vulnerable. Gently encouraging hums and steady breath seem to do the trick as Lex scrambles to take himself apart. He's rough with himself. He moves with a speed and efficiency Clark knows he couldn't accomplish with any grace.

He doesn't look down. Clark still feels like he's violating Lex in some way just being here. But he stows his worries and does what is asked of him.

Lex mewls, struggling to contort his body to reach where he needs. Clark lifts him easily. He presses Lex's back to the wall, hooking the omega's knees over his forearms, supporting his weight, and giving him easier access to his brutally swollen cock and needy hole. Clark holds him up and pins him there with his gaze.

Glazed eyes latch on to Clark's stare. Wherever Lex is in his mind he's too far gone to speak. Likely too far gone to think. He's lost to sensation. His high-pitched whines sound pitiful. He's pleading for something, so desperate for it. Clark lets loose an answering growl in his chest. It’s deep echoing through him and right into the man in his arms. Lex screams, his whole body goes rigid.

The sugar-sweet scent spikes then fades to something like spice in the humid air. Lex melts into Clark's arms. He'd probably slide down the drain if Clark wasn't there holding him up.

The water's still warm but Lex shivers as Clark carries him back to the bedroom. He lays a towel down for them on the bed and they cuddle there until dry.

"I'm sorry." Lex whispers the words into the pillow he's clutching to his chest.

"You don't need to be sorry." There's a truckload of confused feelings looming over Clark's head, but he doesn't blame any of it on Lex.

"That's very charitable of you. But it's my stupid biology that got us into this mess. If I was stronger–"

"Stop." Clark pulls Lex into his arms. The man goes willingly, sinking into the familiar comfort. "It's your father that got us into this. It's not your fault your father is an asshole, or that society is sexist, or that you go into heat. You didn't choose any of this either."

"He did this because I pushed it too far. I spent most of my heats with the wrong people…" Lex's eyes flood with tears. It's impossible to tell if it's bad memories or guilt or the combination that makes his scent turn acrid.

"Those are your mistakes to make and none of his business, none of anyone's."

"Clark."

"No, you said if only you were stronger. Lex, you're incredibly strong. I can see that so clearly. And you know your father can, too. He had to lock you up in here with me to try and get his way. I bet he knew nothing else would work."

Lex doesn't try to argue more. Whether it's because he knows Clark is right or simply because he's too exhausted is anyone's guess. Clark is just relieved when Lex slips into true, deep sleep. His eyes close and nearly instantly dart back and forth indicating REM. He wonders what the omega dreams.

Resting Lex gently against his chest, Clark picks up a book and lets his eyes wander across the page as his mind sorts through all the information of the last few days. Of his lack of alpha response to Lex's heat. Of his parents' betrayal and fear. Of Lex's guilt, and his beautiful eyes, and his perfect skin, and his scar…that scar at the center of his chest.

Clark wonders how he got it. It's unique. Clark's seen a wound like that, years ago.

The dumbwaiter bell sounds. Clark leaves a quietly snoring partner to retrieve it. He pokes gently at Lex's shoulder, getting only a snarl of pure consternation in response.

He's less gentle with the second poke. "Eat." He unloads the food and drinks from the tray right onto the bed. Not like anyone bothered to fit their cell with a breakfast nook.

"No." Lex buries himself further into the pillows.

Clark gently grips Lex's ankle and yanks him down the bed. "And drink this." He places a water bottle in the omega's hand.

"No." Lex tosses it away, very narrowly missing Clark's head.

"Brat." He scolds.

"Yes." Lex agrees.

Clark chuckles and stretches out next to the other man. "How are you feeling?"

"Like hot garbage." And he sounds like it, too. Clark had hoped getting Lex off might help the situation, but he’d never been through a real heat with anyone before. He was going to have to do a lot of research once they got out of here on how best to care for an omega.

Clark caught himself. Why would he need to know that? It’s not like they were ever going to see each other again after this nightmare was over. Whatever Lionel’s plans were, Clark clearly wasn’t going to fall for his traps, he wasn’t built for it. And Lex, oh Clark hopes he can be allowed to stick around long enough to see what holy fire Lex would try to rain down on his father once the door was unlocked.

"I'm sorry." For the thousandth time Clark wishes there was more he could do, now and with whatever came next.

"Not your fault." Lex wipes his hands over his face and sits up. He shivers against the temperature of the room. Clark would call it a balmy mid-seventies, but he could see the goosebumps all over Lex’s alabaster skin. "Fuck, I feel like I'm dying."

"You're not dying." Clark’s sure of it. He’s scanned Lex’s body over and over checking for anything out of the ordinary.

"I wish I was dead." Lex grumbles, picking up a bag of kettle corn from the bed.

"You're not allowed to be dead, Lex." Clark puts an extra layer of exacerbation into his tone. "I'm sorry, but someone's going to have to start saying ‘no’ to you. You're far too spoiled. I'm putting my foot down. You don't get any dead."

Lex turns to him with thinned eyes and a mouth pinched to hide his smile. It doesn’t take more than a minute to crack. They both descend into a fit of giggles and a minor popcorn throwing fight.

Chapter Text

The next few days pass with a progressively familiar rhythm. They sleep, they eat, they hold each other when Lex’s heat ramps up. Sometimes he can tolerate just being held, sometimes it gets too painful, and he fucks himself on his fingers while Clark breathes into the back of his neck and offers soft encouragement.

The bed is their sacred space. They have a nice little nest of pillows and blankets. Everything smells like them. There’s plenty of food and water in reach. It feels safe. Safe against the world and everyone in it.

They easily forget who they are or why anything matters when they’re tangled up in each other but it all filters back in eventually. Lex’s heat recedes and he’s able to go a day without his body demanding to be fucked senseless. They stay close to each other, just in case, but Clark can smell the syrup-sweet scent of Lex’s pheromones settle back to simply a small note in the pleasant aroma.

It’s a strange sensation, feeling worried that their time together is drawing to a close. Clark’s never been this close with someone who wasn’t his parents. Though there were still plenty of secrets and walls between them, he felt a deep closeness with Lex. Clark knows he will mourn it once they are freed.

Lex buttons up a fresh shirt and pair of slacks. He looks so very different from the man Clark’s held in his arms. This man is Lex Luthor again, son of Lionel Luthor, future head of LuthorCorp. A mix of fondness and sadness twinge Clark’s heart strings, but he puts those feelings down quickly. There’s a whole herd of elephants in this room, plenty of different topics to awkwardly sort out besides his own budding feelings for a man way out of Clark’s league.

There’s not a single doubt in Clark’s mind that Lex has thought of every contingency for every situation once they step out of that door. He’s been too quiet all morning, the kind of quiet he gets when he’s calculating. Clark speaks first. "So, everyone thinks we spent the last week mating, but what's to stop us from just going our separate ways after?"

Lex’s mouth pinches, Clark watches those eyes scan him quickly, a final gathering of his thoughts before he speaks. Clark wonders what it says about him that he finds the movements disarmingly cute. Lex would probably call him an idiot.

"My father likely expected you to initiate a bond with me either on purpose or accidentally. Once you bite me we'd both be stuck." Lex’s hand raises to the side of his neck. The skin remains unblemished and as perfectly intact as the rest of him. The closest Clark ever got to a bite was gentle nuzzling and the press of fingers around Lex’s throat as he begged for more pressure.

Clark’s head swims just a bit with the memory, but he shoves it away. "It's not like we're gonna get legally bonded. Not after this stunt." Wouldn’t that be rich? Small-town nobody from Kansas bonded to a high class, genius, billionaire heir.

"Could be he's depending on your pleasant sensibilities to make an honest omega out of me. Or likely as a contingency he's already had some of his underlings draw up a fake bonding license. He's got a whole team of people specialized in fake papers. Usually work visas and birth certificates for proof of citizenship. But I bet he's got something special lined up just for us." Lex crosses his arms over his chest.

Clark pauses as that chunk of information slides just perfectly into place. "Oh, shit."

"Did you just swear?" Lex looks aghast.

"Yes, I swear. Just only when the situation calls for it."

"What fucking situation doesn't fucking call for it?"

"It all makes sense." Clark’s been an idiot. Lionel Luthor, he’s heard that name before, not in the papers, but out of the mouths of Jonathan and Martha Kent. They said it more than a few times, with praise and worry, then never again, not for more than a decade. It was added to the list of Kent family secrets and buried with all the rest.

"Clark, what makes so much sense it made you swear?" Lex steps closer, genuine concern on his face.

Looking at the other man with newly opened eyes Clark can hardly believe it. "Your hair was red, but it all fell out the day of the meteor shower." Clark can’t stop his fingers from reaching towards the center of Lex’s chest. There’s a scar there. A scar he caused all those years ago. A meteor fragment slammed right over Lex’s heart, marking him for life.

Lex grabs Clark’s hand, holding him tight. "Ok, so you did read up on me. How is this helpful?"

"I didn't read it. I saw it. I was there." There was so much smoke and fire. Everyone was coughing, gasping for breath. Except for Clark, he could always breathe fine.

"It was in Smallville. It makes sense you were there." Lex rationalizes away. He looks scared, afraid of the memories just like Clark’s parents. It was a painful day for so many of them. Clark will always carry that burden, how much pain he caused on that day.

"The meteors were pieces of my home planet, and the ship that brought me to Earth." The words come out easy. He wants Lex to know everything. They’ve been tied together since Clark’s first day on earth. He doesn’t know if he can trust Lex but something in his gut tells him to leap. How could he know if he didn’t try?

"Now who's the crazy one?" Lex laughs, but there's no mirth to it. He’s calculating again, thinking back, scanning Clark’s face for any sign of a lie.

"I remember that afternoon. I remember everything from the second I woke up and climbed out of that ship. You and your father were in that field where my parents found me. I didn’t make the connection that it was you and Lionel. I should have dug deeper. My parents told me to stop asking questions years ago and I did. They wanted it buried, so I listened to them. I shouldn’t have. I should have seen this coming, but I didn't." Clark wants to bang his head on the wall. Seven days, how could he have been so thick as to not put this mess together? "When I saw that scar on your chest I thought it looked familiar. And Lionel, he's the man in the black coat from that day. The one who had the resources to forge the papers to pass me off as human and the Kents' adopted son. That's what they owe him. That's why he knows so much."

Lex blinks at Clark in awe. "You're not human."

"I was raised here. Earth is my home. Humans are my people. But I was born somewhere else. It's the answer you wanted, too. Whatever my people are, I don't think they have a secondary gender. I thought it might be the case for years, but this proves it." Clark feels a strange sort of affirmation. He’s spent his whole life in the dark, hiding himself and knowing so little. Now, his footing feels firm.

"This proves it? There are so many more variables to consider! There could be so much more to you we need to figure out." Lex lets go of Clark’s fingers and grabs Clark’s shirt. He steps closer, unafraid. He looks like he’s got a million more questions brewing up inside of him. They’re probably questions that Clark would never even think to ask.

It all mixes into a strange sort of anxiety in Clark’s chest. He wants to be giddy and jump wholeheartedly into the unknown with Lex, but there’s danger there. Danger not just for Clark. "I love your mind, Lex. You're smart, and tenacious. You shine so brightly, and I don't want to hurt you."

"That makes you very unique. And that means I need you to bite me." Lex says it so casually Clark nearly misses it.

Bite him? Is Lex insane? Clark just told him he’s an alien and his first instinct is to try to tie them together forever?

"No, you need people in your life that care about you and don't want to hurt you." Or can’t hurt you. Clark doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but he knows what he’s capable of. He could kill Lex accidentally or hurt him so very badly. Clark is clumsy, foolish, he’s too young. Lex deserves someone perfect, someone who cares about him but more importantly has the wherewithal to take care of him. Lex deserves so much more than him.

"How can I have that if I don’t have you?" Lex cups Clark’s cheek and forces their eyes to meet. "You care about me. You fascinate me. You protect me. I don't want to lose that."

It stabs Clark’s chest like a knife. Lex wants him, cares about him, but Clark is still just as inept as he was when he was shoved through that door a week ago. "I don't think I can even bond with you." He and Lex can’t be together like that. They can’t have a bond that ties them together for a lifetime.

"I'm not asking for a bond. I agree with your hypothesis. I don't think your bite is going to do anything physiologically. But it's going to convince my father to let us go and keep your family safe."

"You’re willing to put yourself at risk like that?" If what Lex said was true, then the bite would mean nothing. It would just be another scar for Lex to carry from another brush with Clark Kent and his strange destiny.

But what if it did mean something. What if Lex’s body responded like it was a mating bite and Clark’s…still didn’t. Would Lex have to suffer alone for the rest of his life? Would he endure the same phantom pain as so many widows and widowers, but with a living being there to taunt him with his inadequacies? Would he grow to hate Clark for what he did to him?

Lex’s hand on his chin pulls Clark out of his tailspin. "It's hardly the riskiest thing I've ever done." Lex points out, not that Clark is convinced by the argument. "If it causes problems…if I needed you during my next heat, would you be there?" There’s a raw vulnerability on Lex’s face.

Clark can do nothing but be honest. "If you are the one asking. No coercion. No games, then, yes. I’ll always be there." He’d run across the world, swim across the ocean, if Lex needed him Clark knows nothing could stop him.

"Where's the risk then?" He says, simple as that. He unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt and pulls the dark fabric to the side.

"Lex." Clark can hear Lex’s fluttering pulse.

"Please. I'm asking. Please do this for me. For us. For your parents." Lex knows just the right buttons to push. Clark resisted temptation for seven days without issue, but now Lex asked for something so tempting, so terrifying.

"You deserve so much better than this." Clark can’t move his feet to walk away. He can’t move his head to lean forward and take.

“We both do. But I want this.” Lex promises with a determination that offers no chance of argument.

Clark slides his hands up Lex’s arms, holding on to him. It felt different, truly intimate in a way the past week never could be. "Whatever happens I promise I'll do everything I can to protect you."

"I believe you. And I’ll protect you, too." Lex vows.

They pull together in a kiss. It’s soft and warm and comfortable, but it's not enough to encapsulate everything they mean. They share so much now, bound together by secrets and lies, tying themselves together with the truth.

Clark leaves Lex’s mouth and traces that racing pulse down to his pale throat. He noses at the soft patch of skin. Lex's scent is strong here. It smells sweet and alluring. Again, Clark is reminded of how he's deficient. The scent doesn't drive him wild. He's not going to ravage Lex. He's going to do what he must to get out of here and do whatever he can to help everyone get out from under Lionel's control. He will mark Lex again, like he did when he first fell to earth. Only this time he won’t let them be separated, not ever again.

"Ready?" He asks softly.

Lex grabs onto Clark's shoulders. "Yes." His tight grip belies the confidence in his answer.

Clark gently cups the back of Lex's neck with one hand and wraps his other arm around his back. He holds the man like a lover and bites.

Lex goes rigid in his arms then melts. Clark keeps him from falling. Blood mixes with the secretions from the mating gland, filling his mouth. The taste isn't unpleasant but reminds Clark how unworthy he is of all this. He doesn't deserve something so intimate from Lex. He can't offer him what is deserved in return. He pulls back and licks the moisture from his lips, wondering if it’s the last time he’ll ever taste Lex.

Wide eyes blink slowly open, nearer to moss green than blue with how dilated his pupils are. "Wow. That was…a lot." Lex gulps.

Clark's cheeks warm and he can’t help but gaze at Lex in awe. "It was."

Lex gets his feet back underneath him and steps away. "Great. Well. Got that done then. Let's get cleaned up and go pull a fast one on my father." He buttons his shirt back up, practically brimming with giddiness. He begins chattering away on ideas of how to mess with Lionel and what kind of lawyers the Kent family farm is going to have to hire for what comes next. He's beautiful in a way Clark barely noticed before.

They pace anxiously around the room, planning their next moves. Lex's neck sports a decent sized bruise by the time their escort arrives to bring them to Lionel. Hand in hand they step out of the room, ready to face all that comes next.