Disclexia: Desire

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Desire

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But who wouldn't adore Clark? Clark, Clark, Clark. Beautiful boy that he was. How could anyone see him and not want him entirely?

"Lex," said Otto, and Lex realised he'd been speaking out loud.

But -- Clark. Golden in the sunlight.

"Don't you just want to eat him alive," he whispered fiercely.

Otto stared at him.

"Figuratively, of course," said Lex. His throat was dry.

The weird thing was . . . he meant it.

He would do anything for Clark. Anything. And that meant Clark had to be alive for it.

Alive and his.

"You're salivating," said Otto coldly.

Lex jerked back, hand going to his mouth instinctively. He dropped his hand, glaring.

Otto didn't notice. He was watching Clark, and mouthing words to himself. He couldn't seem to find one that suited him.

"He is a nice boy," he said finally, despairingly.

He meant, you are not worth him.

Lex felt his lips peel back, showing his fangs.

"I don't care," he said.