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The Two Alexanders

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Summary: It's Lex's birthday and his minions have decided to take him out of LA to celebrate. (Pre-Smallville series)

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Smallville > Xander-CenteredserpentladyFR1511,5351184,85414 Jan 0814 Jan 08Yes
Disclaimer: I do not hold the copy right to Buffy the Vampire Slayer™ or Smallville™, nor do I claim to. All characters belong to their original creators, their publishers, and subsidiaries. I make no profit from the making or sharing of this fanfiction. No slander, insult, or infringement is intended with the making and sharing of this fanfiction.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. The Fabulous Ladies' Nightclub? This is what you arranged for my birthday? A male strip club in Backwater, CA?” Alexander “Lex” Luthor glared incredulously at the acquaintances/sycophants/rivals grouped around him. They had insisted on throwing him a party, so they rented out a sleazy place like this? He thought he should feel insulted after the bemused shock wore off. 'God, I need better minions.'

“We figured you could get drunk, get a lap dance, stick a couple hundred down g-strings, and get laid, all without the scandal mags getting hold of it. Sound good?”

'Okay, so maybe they aren't entirely useless. As far as plans go, this one doesn't suck. Still isn't great...' Lex sighed. Looked like they were staying here for the party. At least they had rented the place out exclusively for the night.

Opening the doors, Lex was confronted by a small crowd of scantily dressed men, a large banner proclaiming 'Happy Birthday', balloons, and the club owner. “Welcome to the Club, Mister Luthor and guests. We hope you have a wonderful time while you are here. For the duration of the party, one of the gentlemen behind me will act as your personal server. Choose, and he will guide you to your seat. Enjoy.” The man gave a short little bow and stepped to the side.

His associates all nudged him to make the first choice. There were a dozen men in front of him, all well groomed, healthy, and delectably good-looking. He ruled out the three with long hair straight off, same as the two red-heads. The two on the end were too tall for his tastes, and three of them were over-muscled, so that left two: a lithe brunette and a blond. The blond was wearing what looked like a very small pair of lime green speedos, but the brunette had the classic Chippendale shirtless-tux in vinyl.

“Who chose the costumes?” He asked the owner.

“They chose their own.”

“Mister Chippendale, it's your lucky night.” Who could resist that ass when it was barely covered in pants as tight as shrink wrap? And the abs. . . yummy. Best part was that the man barely came up to his nose.

'Oh crap. He picked me! He picked me? What the hell? Shit! Calm down. Take him to the birthday-boy chair.' Xander shot off a quick, slightly mocking bow and presented his arm, which Lex took with a bit of a quirked smile on his mouth.

“So, happy birthday and shit. My name is Xander and I will be your scantily-clad manservant for the evening. To start with, can I get you a drink?” Xander presented Lex with the throne-like chair procured by the man's friends and positioned for best effect and view of the stage.

“Scotch, no ice.” The man somehow managed to elegantly flop into the chair, one leg thrown over the side.

“Would you prefer single malt or a blend?” Lex looked up quickly, slightly startled. Seems like the boys had told the club about his tastes, or else his boy was just plain more attentive.

“Single, please.”

Xander retreated to the bar with an inaudible sigh of relief as the others and their servants for the night accompanied them. He still couldn't believe that the high roller, the birthday boy, the important person of the evening had picked him! Xander, the man who had only been dancing four weeks! And by the looks some of the other guys were throwing him, they couldn't believe it either.

As soon as the scotch was poured, he was making his way back to the bald man, careful not to spill the drink. To his surprise, once he handed the drink over, Lex stuffed a twenty down is pants with a wink and a smile. Xander smiled back and took the empty seat Lex gestured to. It was going to be a weird night.

Hours passed with conversation, teasing, and commentary on the dancing and groping going on around them, and then it was Xander's turn to do a set on stage. He politely excused himself from his patron for the evening and headed backstage to get into costume. This was the first time he would perform this routine besides in practice. 'Well, here goes nothing.'

Nine Inch Nails blasted from the speakers and Xander stepped out in an all leather outfit, bull whip in hand. By the time the song was over and he was down to a pair of silk briefs, he had at least a couple hundred stuffed in various bits of clothing. With a bow and a wink to Lex, Xander was off stage and fishing all the crumpled bills out of his undies, trying not to give himself paper cuts on delicate bits.

And then he was back with his patron, getting him drinks, getting more money stuffed down his pants, whispered comments and compliments in his ear. And then Lex asked for a private dance. Gulp. Xander gave him a small smile, shoving his nervousness down and hauling up everything he had been taught while guiding him to a room with a closed door.

Lex sat back in comfortable chair and pulled out a roll of twenties. Xander found the rhythm in the music filtering in through the speakers and started to sway. His hands trailed up his hips and over his stomach, gently caressed his chest and hooked his fingers under the bow tie around his neck. A quick jerk in time with the music had it off and flung behind his customer.

A twist had his back to Lex while he tore off the cuffs and tossed them over his shoulder with a wink and a smirk. His hips swayed and wiggled, bending a bit to give a better view. Then he turned to the front again and propped a foot perilously close to Lex's crotch, bending to unlace his boots, the backs of his hands teasing the man's inner thighs.

He crawled onto the chair, making sure none of himself touched Lex, and resumed caressing and teasing himself, running his hands over his thighs, stomach, chest, and neck, licking his lips, pinching his nipples, sighing softly with pleasure. And Lex started stuffing money down his pants. He twisted and hovered over the older man's body, rubbing his back and ass against the hard chest and erection behind him, more money, this time slipped delicately under the string of his g-string. Lex got in a bit of a grope while he was at it, but Xander didn't mind.

He stood and this time started working on his pants. He had them almost undone when the song ended. Xander gave his patron a mischievous smile and started redressing, earning a slightly pained, slightly amused groan. Lex stood and twirled the cuffs of his costume around a finger, smiling. He fastened them on for Xander after a potent pout, slipping a fifty under each one with a quick kiss to the inner wrist.

Lex admitted in the privacy of his own mind, even if Xander didn't invite him home, this would be the best birthday party since he was very young. Good companionship, stimulating conversation, arousing companion, quality booze, and sexy strippers. He'd have to thank the minions later. He went back out to the main room, a grin plastered across his face and said sexy stripper trailing behind.

If only he knew that Xander was contemplating stealing another dancer's condoms and lube. Mike always kept a stash in his locker. His boyfriend liked to surprise him at work and fuck in the alley, or the bathroom, or the locker room. . . and everyone knew Mike didn't actually lock his locker.

“So, what time do you get off at?” The now reseated birthday boy asked.

“I get to leave when the party's over. Unless Gary asks me to stay back and help with the clean up.” Xander sneaked a look over his shoulder at a gleeful-looking Gary. The boss-man was making a killing tonight on drinks alone.

“Would you like to come back to my hotel room for a private dance?” Lex cocked an eyebrow at the younger man.

“. . . sorry, but I can't do that. I'm not a prostitute.” Xander looked down at his hands. “Even if that's not what you are suggesting, I'm not licensed as an adult entertainer.”

“Don't worry, Xander. I understand.” From his pocket, Lex pulled a business card and scrawled his cell number on the back. “If you're ever in L.A., give me call. We can have drinks or something.” Xander took it with an embarrassed smile.


“Have a good night.”

“You too, Mr. Luthor.”

“My name is Lex. Feel free to use it.” The birthday boy walked back to his hotel, feeling content for the first time in a while. And all it took was the thought of seeing Xander again. That boy was just plain real and fun. Seemed like there wasn't an ounce of guile in him. It was to refreshing and relaxing compared to home. He really did hope the other man would look him up.

The End

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