This is my newest story. It's slash, so if you don't like, don't read. :) Clark/Oliver eventually, of course. ;) This will be a chapter fic! Comments are appreciated. :D
Story: Never Say Goodbye
Pairing/Characters: Collie, Lollie, Chlimmy, Lexana, mentions of past Clana
Rating: R
Disclaimer: don't own anything
Warning: slash, mentions of m/m sex
Spoilers: season 6, starts at 6x04, Arrow
Summary: That night at the penthouse was not the first time Clark met Oliver Queen. He has met him before but he just doesn't remember where or when. But as the memories return, Clark finds out that his fateful summer in Metropolis is not as long gone as he thought it was.
Chapter 1
"Mr. Queen," a man in a suit announced Clark as he took him to the living room of the unfamiliar penthouse.
"My mom told me you were here," Clark blurted out. Lois was standing with another man. Both were dressed nicely and he assumed they had come back from some party.
"Smallville," she said, clearly surprised. "It's almost midnight." At Lois's mention of his nickname, Oliver looked puzzled
"Smallville?" the other man said. "You're Clark Kent?"
"Yeah," Clark said, "You must be Oliver Queen." He met the other man in the middle of the room and shook his hand.
"Yeah," Oliver said, smiling, his expression a mixture between amusement and shock. Something about him seemed familiar but Clark couldn't place him. I probably saw him in the newspaper, Clark thought, dismissively.
Oliver was shaking his head and laughing. "This is funny." Clark looked at him, wondering what he was talking about. "You know, the way Lois talked about you, I expected you to be a bit more . . ."
But he was cut off by Lois. "You know, I could really use some water."
Neither man paid her any attention. "A bit more what?" Clark asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well," Oliver started, shrugging.
"Of a geek?" Clark asked.
Oliver was about to say something but Lois spoke first. "Well you have to admit, you're not exactly jumping the velvet ropes at nightclubs."
Smiling, Oliver shot Clark a look but Clark wasn't phased. "It's nice to see that Lois has found someone who can overlook her personality," he said calmly.
"Ahh, don't worry about it Clark," Oliver said jovially, "If I lived under the same roof as such a beautiful woman, I would have probably masked my feelings in sarcasm too." He then walked up a small set of steps and turned back, looking pleased.
Both Clark and Lois froze at his declaration.
"Feelings?" Lois said, looking between him and Oliver.
"Feelings?" Clark repeated. This guy is joking, right? He and Lois . . . yeah, right. The day he and Lois dated would be the day he ran around in spandex and a cape.
"Little advice there Freud jr," Lois was saying, "Stick to the day job." Oliver just continued smiling. And how annoying was this guy?
"The only reason I'm here is to get that necklace back," Clark said, "The last thing I want is my mother to be indebted to Lionel Luthor."
"Yeah, well she should've thought about that before accepting his help for the fundraising," Oliver pointed out. Clark clenched his fists, trying not to hit the smug bastard.
"And," Oliver continued, "if you're really championing the causes of pickpocketed billionaires, you might want to add a few more to the list."
Clark tilted his head at this revelation. "Are you saying that Lionel Luthor is not the only victim?"
"A dozen of Metropolis's who's who have been hit recently," Oliver informed them, leaning against the staircase railing
Clark glanced at him. "Good," he said. "Then there are some leads."
"Not if all the victims were as uncooperative as Lionel Luthor," Oliver said casually. Clark and Lois both had confused expressions on their face.
"Do you find it interesting that he never called the police?" Oliver asked. Clark just stared at him. Where was he going with this?
"If you boys are done marking your territory," Lois interjected, noticing the challenging looks Clark and Oliver were giving each other, "which for clarification, is not me, I have a front page article that is missing a few details. Good night boys. Now play nice." She grabbed her coat and left.
Clark observed Oliver as the older man watched Lois leave with a smile. Where had he seen him? His gut was telling him that this was more than just a newspaper article.
Oliver looked back at him and met his gaze, smirking slightly. Clark didn't waver.
Then Oliver's expression turned curious. "Have we met before?" That's what he was wondering!
"I don't think so," Clark said, giving him a stiff smile. "It's really late. I should get going. Good night Mr. Queen."
As he took off, he heard Oliver say, "Good night, Clark Kent."
Gorgeous women (and men), loud but good music, a variety of people . . . Metropolis clubs were all that Clark always imagined they would be. But to these people, he would be known as Kal because that is what his fake ID said.
He was only 16 but he looked a lot older so the bouncers didn't even question him when they saw his id. Dressed in all black, he was ready to let loose. All his life he had played it safe and now he was ready to let go. With the help of a certain ring with a red stone, he felt free.
Besides, what did he have in Smallville anyway? His parents hated him. Because of him, they had lost their real child. He saw how his dad looked at him . . . they probably didn't even miss him. And now Lex was dead. His best friend was gone and he hadn't been able to save him. Might as well just enjoy his new life, since there was no way he was going back.
He approached the bar and gave a smile to the pretty bartender behind it. But she wasn't paying him any attention. She seemed really frustrated, trying to talk her way out of some situation with the guy in front of her.
"Oh come on," the guy was saying. Clark sized him up quickly. Early 30s, not very tall and clearly drunk. "If you go out with me, I'll make it good for you."
"No thanks," the bartender was saying. "I'm not interested. I don't go out with customers."
"We can keep it a secret," the guy continued, leaning over the counter to try and touch her. Clearly creeped out, she backed away.
Clark had had enough. He walked right up to the man. "I believe," he whispered, "the lady said no."
The guy backed off and fell off the stool, startled. "Look, it's none of your business man." Seeing Clark wasn't going anywhere, he tried to provoke him. "You want to fight buddy?"
"Sure," Clark said, rising to his full height, a startling 6'3". "And don't call me buddy." The other man was clearly shocked and frightened.
"Yeah, whatever," he mumbled. "This isn't worth it." He scurried away and Clark smiled smugly.
"Thanks for that." A female voice caught his attention and he turned back to the bartender.
"No problem," Clark replied. "Hate to see a pretty lady get mistreated."
She smiled at him. "So what can I get for you? Your drinks are on the house."
"Any recommendations?" he asked, giving her a flirty smile. She gave him a few names, none which sounded familiar and he just chose one randomly.
"That's a good one," she said and started to fix his drink.
Meanwhile, Clark was checking out the dance floor. "So what's your name anyway?" the bartender asked, handing him his drink. "Never seen you here before."
"You can say I'm new to the scene," Clark responded, remaining vague. He took a sip of the drink. "This is good."
"Thanks," she replied, giving him a half smile. "If you need anything else tonight, just let me know."
He didn't say anything and just watched her walk away.
"For a new guy, you seem to be fitting in pretty well," a voice commented casually to his right. Clark looked over to see where the voice was coming from.
He found his source sitting right next to him. A man . . . and not just any man, a gorgeous man. Spiky blonde hair, a chiseled chin and intense brown eyes. Even sitting, Clark could tell he probably matched him in height.
"I saw you," the man said, "From afar, when you made that guy leave, the one who was bothering the bartender. I was coming over but you dealt with it first. I was impressed."
"I didn't do it to impress anyone," Clark shot back. "Especially not you, blondie."
The other man just smirked. He looked older, about Lex's age. Lex . . . Clark's heart ached. How could his best friend be dead? Forcing the thoughts out of his head, he focused on the current situation.
"I wasn't trying to insult you," the blonde commented. "It was meant to be a compliment . . . unfortunately it seemed it didn't come out that way. Got a name to come with that temper?"
"Even if I do," Clark said coolly, "I wouldn't tell it to you." He finished his drink. "See you." Without a glance back, he walked off in the direction of the dance floor.
He quickly forgot about the other man. Between the many sexy women, all willing to dance with him and the fast music, Clark was having a blast.
Eventually the night had to come to an end. He departed the club and was going to head back to the hotel room he was staying in when he heard a voice from a nearby alley.
"I want all your money," a gruff voice was saying.
Clark headed toward the voice and saw a man with a gun, and the gun was currently aimed at another man. His morals weren't too high at the moment but he decided he couldn't just walk away.
In a flash, he was behind the other guy. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said.
The other guy was bulky and slightly taller but he wasn't intimidated. "Hey kid," he snapped, "this isn't any of your business."
"I'm making it my business," Clark said coolly. Suddenly the gun was pointed at his head. "Oh, you really don't want to do that."
Before the other man could even think, Clark had disarmed him and threw him against the wall. He slumped, unconscious.
Turning his attention back to the almost robbed man, Clark was shocked at who he saw.
"You really save everyone, don't you?" It was blondie.
"Yes, I do," Clark said stiffly.
"Don't get mad again," blondie said quickly. "I want to thank you, for saving my life."
"You're welcome," Clark responded. "Anyway, try to be more careful, blondie. These streets aren't made for pretty boys."
"I'm not a pretty boy," he retorted. "Just having an off night." He paused. "So don't I get the name of my savior?"
Clark was slightly amused. This guy was persistent. "You can call me Kal."
"I'm Oliver Queen," he offered. "Is there anything I can do to thank you?"
"Keep yourself safe," Clark instructed. "And try not to wander into any more alleys." He began to walk away.
"I'll keep that in mind," Oliver called out but Clark didn't stop.
He was tempted by the blonde and that was why he was leaving. It was no secret, at least not to him, that he was bisexual. But he wasn't ready to venture away from women just yet.
Spending too much time with that blonde and he just might. Finding a deserted area, he took a quick look around before speeding off.
But his superhearing was able to pick up the blonde's voice.
"Kal," the deep voice was saying. "Nice name."
"Oliver Queen," Clark murmured, laughing to himself, "May have to look you up."
Clark woke up with a start. He rolled over and glanced at his alarm clock. It wasn't even 5 am yet. But Clark knew he wouldn't be falling asleep any time soon.
That dream was still too fresh in his mind and he couldn't shake the feeling he was having. He knew that he had seen Oliver somewhere, that they had met before.
Now he knew where and he wished he hadn't remembered. This was just going to make things awkward and he prayed that Oliver would never figure out where he had seen him.
Because three years ago, during that fateful summer in Metropolis, he had slept with Oliver Queen. And he only wished he could forget.