He'd been out of surgery for a few hours. It was a good assumption, because he was half aware that he'd been trying to wake up for a while, in and out and in and out with the world more steadily becoming clearer. The pain seemed under control, which for an amputation had to mean good things.
He'd bought the best doctors in the world, of course, because if Lex Luthor was going to lose a goddamned hand to necrotic kryptonite induced alien-cancer, he was going to do it with the best doctors money could buy.
He didn't reach for the call button. There wasn't any point, because someone was supposed to be there to notice. That was what he was paying for.
"Hello, Mr. Luthor. Everything went remarkably well. I'm just going to change your catheter now, if it's all right. I'm sure you'll prefer the external one to the one we used during surgery."
Oh.
He squinted at the man for a moment, wondering if he was hallucinating, or if someone had slipped any kind of mind-bending drugs into his medical cocktail. But squinting, and closing his eyes didn't make the man go away, or his face change. Lex struggled to move, trying to sit up and failing because there wasn't his good hand there to lean on when he tried to do it. "You..."
"I'm your nurse for the evening, Mr. Luthor. My name's Ethan. I'll be taking care of you."
Taking care of him, and God. He looked just like him, like he had before he'd gotten hard. Before he'd turned into such a fucking do-gooding bastard.
A lying do-gooding bastard. There was no way to be sure if it was or it wasn't Clark, because the Kryptonite was gone. But he could stare and blame the drugs, and watch 'Ethan' pull the sheets back and his hospital gown up. "Will you?"
Brilliant smile. Stretched wide, white teeth, open gaze. So sweet. "Of course, Mr. Luthor." Of course, and he was gently tugging on the catheter tube, hands on Lex's dick, and oh. Oh god.
He was hard already. He was past hard, and there was a twist to that mouth as if after surgery hand jobs would fix everything that had happened between them, while 'Ethan' pulled the catheter tube out.
"There we go. That's a little more comfortable, right?" Right, and there was a wash cloth, cool, and then a mouth, much warmer, damp, and Lex was loving the morphine right now. Loving the morphine, and the blowjob.
It was hard to give a damn just then whether it was Clark or Ethan or his imagination, because he was getting the blowjob of a hazy lifetime, so far from sterile it was hysterical unless it was Clark. It wasn't as if it would matter if it was.
Still. There were hands on his balls, fondling, and Lex had always kind of enjoyed slutty nurses. He'd paid for them on more than one occasion, and when Clark-Ethan went all the way down, Lex let out a muffled moan.
He tried to bring his hand to his mouth, and he couldn't, which did make it more real. He wasn't paying for this, hadn't gone looking for it, but he liked it, and watched that dark mop of hair while Clark-Ethan leaned over his crotch and sucked hard. It made him shudder; made him come down his throat, hazy and on the edge of an ache.
"There." Smiling lips, luscious. Full. God that felt good. "Now. How about I wipe you down and put on the external catheter?"
"That'd be fine." He had to sound drifty, maybe a little stunned, because now, now he knew it was Clark, and he wanted to reach for his hair, but he was already standing up, moving around, the scrubs stretched too tight across his ass when he turned towards his equipment and put his back to Lex.
He wished he had his ring. He wished he had a collar made of the stuff. He wished he could make him stay, he wished he could keep his eyes open. He wished he could reach out and grab him, trying to snag a handful of fabric with the wrong hand and eyes that didn't want to focus.
When he woke up again, he knew. Ethan. Clark.
He'd be gone.
