Reporter!Lex, Part 6
Jan. 5th, 2004 12:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
And
They left early in the morning, before the sun even rose, at Clark's suggestion.
"If we get there early enough," he'd said, "there still might be pancakes."
That had been fine with Lex. He liked pancakes and never turned down free food. Besides, morning was the best time to start a trip. Just like how coffee always tasted fresh first thing. And, Clark had been right; the coffee house down the street from him had the best coffee in the world.
Clark was still packing when Lex arrived.
"Sorry," he said. His toothbrush was in his mouth, flannel shirt open and displaying the most impressive six-pack Lex had ever seen outside of Hollywood, and he was tossing clothes into his suitcase as he ran around the apartment.
"No problem." Lex sipped his coffee before setting it on Clark's table/desk/secretary and, apparently, dresser. "Hey, Clark? Have you ever thought about buying new furniture?" he asked, going to the suitcase and pulling the clothes back out. He began to fold them neatly.
Clark's apartment was a study in poverty. The couch was lime green burlap or something, over stuffed, and tilted. There was a throw rug on the floor that looked as if a dog had chewed, loved, and peed on many, many times. The television had a crack across the screen. His refrigerator hummed loudly. The microwave blinked 12:0. And, looking into the bedroom, Clark's bed was a mattress on the floor, covered in clothes.
"I haven't had time," he explained. He ran into the bathroom and spit the toothpaste out. Then he ran back out, comb stuck in his hair. "I'm going shopping as soon as things settle down."
Lex finished folding the last shirt and placed it back in Clark's suitcase carefully. Clark was still running around like a chicken with his head cut off, looking underneath things for his shoes as he pulled his sock on with hand and combed his hair with the other. Actually, raked his hair was more like it.
Calmly, Lex stepped in front of Clark, arms folded across his chest. "Clark, stop."
He obeyed, blinking at Lex as if confused. He was tilted, one hand on his sock, trying to yank it up, but at least he'd stopped.
"Your problem is, I think, that you don't make the time." He grimaced. "Not that I'm one to talk." He took hold of Clark's shirt in both fists and tugged the kid up. Then, as sad as he was to, he buttoned it. "You look good in this, which is frightening because it's flannel."
Clark smiled blushingly. "Thanks. It's kind of, like, my native attire, you know?"
"You do look more comfortable in it than you do in the clothes you wear to work." He smoothed out the wrinkles on Clark's shoulders and cocked his head. He was suddenly consumed with the urge to take him shopping. It was strange; he'd known Clark had a good build and a nice body, but suddenly seeing it in normal clothes made Lex want to play dress up. "It fits you better. And is a better color than brown. The blue really brings out your eyes. Even behind those glasses." Maybe he could find a way to get Clark some better frames. Obviously he wore them for a reason, so Lex wouldn't suggest he stop wearing them, but new frames might make him look more attractive without drawing too much attention to him.
"Yeah, well, I actually think someone else bought this for me. My mom, probably. That's why it fits. I basically go into a store and grab whatever's closest."
"It's frightening that the only thing that keeps you from being a candidate on "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" is the fact that you're straight." Then, smiling, he pulled the comb from Clark's hair. "You don't have to rush. We can leave whenever."
Clark sighed. "I know. I just really want to be gone, you know? Get this over with."
"Get what over with?"
"Going home," Clark said with a shrug. "Seeing my parents. Or, actually, getting there. I want to skip the seeing them for the first time part. I haven't seen them since getting the job at the Planet, and, well, there's a part of me that's not looking forward to it. I mean, a huge part of me is, because I miss them. But." He sighed and shook his head.
Lex nodded. "Parental relations can be strange. You love them, you get frustrated by them, you want them to be proud of you, but you want them to trust you to know what's right, too."
He sighed again and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah." He looked as if he were about to say more, when he went completely tense, eyes snapping open.
Lex frowned and glanced at where Clark was looking. There was nothing there, not even a window. It was a solid wall, one with stains and cracks on it. Nothing special. But Clark's eyes were on it, albeit unfocused, as if all his concentration was on something inside him. Or ... or another sense.
"Clark?" he said tentatively. He placed his hand on Clark's shoulder.
Clark didn't hear him. He was like a statue, marble still except for quivering muscles that were held too tautly. His body was in the room; his mind was elsewhere.
This was discomforting and Lex didn't know what to do. But he had to try something.
"Clark? Clark? *Clark*!" he shouted, jumping up and down in front of Clark.
He got a blink.
"Hey! Look at me." He smacked Clark's cheek with the palm of his hand.
The spell broke. Clark blinked again, awareness creeping into his eyes. He released a breath he must have been holding and shuddered.
"Sorry. I ..." He frowned and looked at the wall again.
Lex forced Clark's head back to him. "Clark. Whatever it is, let it go," he said softly.
"But ..."
"Let it go."
He didn't say anything at first. The desire to do ... whatever it was he wanted to do (and Lex had a fairly guess what it was) was strong. Every muscle was tense and quivering, and the lines around his eyes grew deeper.
And then, the tension broke. A huge sigh erupted from his lungs and he went limp.
"Let's sit for a second," Lex suggested. He pulled Clark to the couch, even as he eyed it warily. He really didn't think it would hold Clark's weight.
But, it did. Clark sank onto the couch and closed his eyes. After a moment of indecision, Lex sat next to him.
"Want to tell me what just happened?" he asked, knowing what the answer would be.
Clark just sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "I'm just tired. Everything's just been so much lately."
"Yeah, it's been a rough month." Lex leaned against the back of the couch and gazed at Clark's profile. Like the rest of him, it was perfect. Chiseled and classic, like a painting.
He bit his lower lip and reached out to take the glasses off, wanting to see what Clark looked like without them. But, inches away, he stopped and, instead ran his knuckles down Clark's cheek. "You're going home, though. I know you're nervous about seeing your parents, but it's home."
Clark caught Lex's hand in his and turned his head. His eyes opened, and a soft smile crossed his face. "Yeah. Home."
They continued to gaze at each other for a long moment, and the air grew dark around them. Lex's breath caught in his throat and his skin began to tingle with possibility. And awareness.
Clark licked his lips and leaned in a little closer. "Lex," he whispered, "are you attracted to me?"
"Clark ..."
"Because you know I think you're gorgeous, right?"
Lex sighed. "I think your glasses are ugly and the clothes you choose to wear make you look like a dork." He started to rise, but Clark wrapped his hand around his wrist.
"But are you attracted to me?"
"Clark ..." He sighed again and looked at Clark. "Fine. Yes. I am."
Clark's smile was magnificent. Without even moving, he suddenly looked as if he'd gotten a few hours of quality sleep. Roses flushed his cheeks, and his eyes sparkled, and Lex was hard pressed not to plant a kiss on the luscious lips.
Instead, he yanked his hand away and rose. "But don't get any ideas. You're my coworkers, and I don't date co-workers," he warned. "Come on. We should hit the road."
"Okay," Clark agree amicably. He finished putting on his shoes, then grabbed his jacket, and closed his suitcase. "Who drives? You or me?"
"I'll drive."
To Lex's complete lack of surprise, Clark fell asleep about fifteen minutes in their journey. He tried valiantly to stay awake, even trying to carry on a conversation with Lex. They talked about their strategy for finding out what Level Three was, where it was, and, most importantly, how the chemicals were being transported from Smallville to the dumping sight without anyone noticing.
And, when Clark started saying things like, "Maybe the bunnies take it," Lex knew it was time to stop talking.
After Clark was asleep, Lex sighed and lit up a cigarette. He was getting in over his head, falling a little bit more for Clark each day. This weekend was going to be torture. Three, maybe four days living in the same house as Clark. Maybe seeing him every morning with his shirt off, maybe more.
And, worse, there wouldn't be any Superman to distract him from Clark. Clark, who was absolutely adorable in sleep. Clark, with the beautifully thick hair and eyelashes that went on forever that framed gorgeous eyes. While he slept, his head had lolled onto his shoulder and mouth fell open enough so Lex could see the impressive fangs inside. It was a sad, sad day when Lex found lack of adequate orthodontia attractive.
Needing to distract himself, Lex flipped the music on a drove, pushing the speed until he was fairly sure that he was going too fast for police officers to see him. Which was fine with him. The sooner Metropolis was a distant memory, the better. No, this wasn't exactly a vacation for him, but it was a new place, and a small town. It was going to be different in Smallville. No reporters hounding him, no people wanting to know what Superman was really like, no accusations, and, most importantly, no Lois Lane.
He laughed at himself, realizing that, even though a moment ago he'd been lamenting the lack of Superman, there was a part of him that was almost glad of it.
Unless ...
Lex glanced at Clark again and sighed.
Clark's glasses had fallen off his face and were dangling by the earpiece. Lex took them, carefully folded them, and clipped them onto Clark's shirt. He wondered how long it would take Clark to realize he wasn't wearing them, or if it was an automatic impulse now.
It took over three hours to get to there. Clark slept the whole way, and Lex was glad. Clark obviously needed it.
When Lex saw the sign proclaiming they'd reached Smallville, the Meteor Capital of the World, he pulled over and shook Clark.
"Hey. Wake up."
Clark groaned and squeezed his eyes tighter.
He laughed softly and unbuckled his seat belt. Leaning closer, Lex whispered in Clark's ear, "Rise and shine, Clark, it's time to face the day.
"Five more minutes," Clark begged.
"But it's your turn to drive, kid. I don't know where you live."
Clark covered Lex's face with his hand and pushed him back onto his seat. "Shhhh. Sleeping. You sleep too."
"Clark!" Lex exclaimed through laughter that was bubbling in his chest. "Wake up, Clark. Unless you want me to drive aimlessly until we're hopelessly lost, found by lonely mountain men and used for their own twisted pleasure."
"Mmmm," Clark sighed. His eyes opened. "Mountain men. Oh, wait. This is Kansas." He turned his head. "There are none."
"Well, then, whatever passes."
Clark sighed again, his lips turning down. "I've changed my mind. Can we just go home?"
"I thought we were home. Your home." He took a deep breath. "I thought *you* were coming home."
He sighed and rubbed Lex's neck. "I don't think I've ever been this tired before in my life. I literally feel as if my blood has been leached of iron or something, and all that's left is weak, white fluid. And I don't know if I want to face my parents yet."
"Why not?"
"Dad has a thing against Luthors, for one." He flushed. "Sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
Lex frowned and sat up. "What does he have against Luthors?"
He shrugged. "Some old wound, I don't know. He knew your dad, I know that much. And, uh, your dad had something to do with my adoption. And a friend of mine's parents owned the creamed corn factory before your dad bought it, and my dad thinks your dad cheated them. And ...."
"Fuck, Clark, does the whole town hate me, or just your parents?"
Clark seemed to shrink in on himself. "My mom doesn't hate you."
"Shit." He climbed out of the car, hands pressed against his eyes.
This was just fantastic. His entire life, he'd feared Smallville because of the meteor shower. It had haunted his dreams and still caused him to wake up, breathless and terrified at times. Smallville had been the beginning of the end. He'd lost his hair, then Julian, his mother, and Pamela within the span of four years.
And now, he'd *finally* worked up enough nerve to come back, only to find out that everyone hated him.
"Lex ..."
"Leave me alone," he snapped. Unable to face Clark, he started walking down the road. It was cold, and he hadn't put on his jacket when he'd sprung from the car. No matter. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and started walking.
He'd wanted this to work out. This weekend, or however long they were there. Perry had given them until Tuesday to come up with something and then, depending on what they found, longer. Or not. It depended.
He'd wanted time alone with Clark, in Clark's natural setting. After the strange month they'd had, and Lex's suspicions about him, he felt he needed to get Clark away. Away from the city, away from the millions of people who needed Clark--or Superman--more than he did.
Lex had never hated a million people before. And if he was wrong, and if Clark really was just busy with other things lately, then ... well, he hated whatever was keeping Clark away from him.
But now, everything was different. Smallville wasn't just unpleasant territory, it was enemy territory. A place where everyone was going to hate him not only because of things he had done, but because of things his father had done in pursuit of an empire that was now gone.
Sighing dejectedly, Lex followed the road as it rounded the bend. Maybe if he got himself good and lost, Superman would find him. Maybe it was Superman he wanted to be around right now, and not Clark. Not Clark, with is judgmental parents, and secrets, and longings that Lex was afraid he wouldn't be enough for.
Suddenly, Lex stopped, skin prickling. He knew this place. The road, the location. The field.
And there it was. The plant he'd come to investigate. The plant that was probably the responsible for at least five deaths, quite a few illnesses, and the destruction of land. The plant in which his father had, perhaps, conducted experiments with meteors that had made Lex bald, and Lois was probably carrying on.
Oh, and the plant his father had bought, making an entire town hate him and Lex by extension.
He watched the activity across the road. The early morning crew was coming in for work, driving beat up pick up trucks and four door sedans. Family men and women, who worked at the plant because it was the single biggest employer in the town and they had mouths to feed.
Lex wondered about scientists. He wondered if Level 3 was supposed to be above or below ground, or if it was just a code name that didn't have anything to do with levels.
He wondered if the people climbing out of their cars knew that the waste produced from this plant was killing people not fifty miles away from them. He wondered ...
He wondered how long he could look at the plant as if all his attention wasn't focused on the field behind him.
Lex took a deep breath and turned. The cornfield was still there, but there was no corn. Harvest had passed, corn had been picked, and the field was bare.
He laughed, tears rising to his eyes. This was what he'd been afraid of. An empty field, easily conquerable by man.
"You okay?" Clark asked softly, coming to stand beside him.
"Yeah," he answered breathlessly. He wiped his eyes and glanced up at Clark.
He was looking down at Lex through concerned eyes. He was also wearing his glasses again.
Lex sighed and looked at the field. "This field, I've been here before. This is where I was during the meteor shower. Dad was with the Rosses in front of the plant, and I'd wandered over here. To explore. And because grown-ups are boring. I heard someone calling for help. There was this man, boy. I guess he was a teenager. He'd been stripped to his underwear and tied to a cross. There was an S painted on his chest. We were both hit by the meteors." Lex licked his lips. "I never understood what he was doing there, but when I heard about Matthew Shepard, I finally got it."
Clark cleared his throat. "Uh," he said awkwardly, "actually, no."
"No?" Lex said, frowning at him.
"Yeah. It wasn't a hate crime. It was a tradition. Every year for homecoming the football team chooses a freshman to be the scarecrow. They strip him down, tie him up, and leave him out here until after the game. Or the dance, depending on when they finally remember he's out here."
"How do you .... Oh." Lex grimaced. "Sorry."
"You didn't do it."
"No." He looked back at the empty field and then laughed. "Christ. All these years." He sighed. "Is there anyplace for me to stay in town?"
Clark tentatively put his arm around Lex's shoulders. "No, there isn't any place for you to stay in town. You're staying with me at my home. As my guest."
"I don't want to cause any problems, Clark."
"You won't." He squeezed Lex's arm. "Lex, my dad doesn't even know you. He had problems with your dad, and ..."
"Clark," Lex interrupted. He turned to face Clark, and rested his hands on Clark's chest lightly, half trying to push him away, half for the comfort of Clark's body under his hands. "I've been worn to the bone. I don't want to have defend myself while invading another man's home. I ..."
Clark kissed the same way Superman did. His mouth was warm and demanding, tongue soothing. His hands held Lex in the same way, comfortingly and securely. And Lex felt just as safe.
"I said not to get any ideas," Lex said breathlessly when they broke apart. He licked his lips and tried to stop himself from leaning in for more.
Clark's thumb smoothed down his cheek, and Clark smiled. "I thought you meant new ideas. Don't get any *new* ideas. I've had that one for a long time."
"Oh." He licked his lips again, unsure what to say.
"Come on, Lex." Clark pulled away, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He started walking back down the road to the car. "Let's go home."
* * *
As it turned out, Clark needn't had warned Lex about his father's animosity. Whatever feelings he'd had about Lionel didn't extend to Lex, apparently. Jonathan Kent was nothing but polite and welcoming, even to the point of clapping Lex on the back before heading back out to work. And Martha ...
Let's just say that if Lex wanted a new mother, he'd found his choice. Beautiful and intelligent, Martha Kent was perfect. She greeted Lex with a hug, stuffed him with the most delicious pancakes on earth, and looked at him as if she saw into his soul.
"You have a crush on my mother, don't you?" Clark asked when Martha left the room for a moment.
He blushed. And honest to God blush that made Clark grin at him. "She's a fantastic woman," he finally answered, looking down at his plate.
Clark didn't answer, but he looked pleased.
"So," Martha said, coming back into the kitchen, "I did as you asked, Clark, and asked around a little. Nothing major, but some. Anyone who worked on the original Level 3 project that Earl Jenkins said was there came from outside of Smallville. Derek, Lana's husband, managed to dig up some partial employment records, and a lot of there were a lot of out of town employees who disappeared soon after Earl said the accident was." She handed Lex and Clark some papers.
"Did Derek say he'd talk to us?" Clark asked, looking them over.
She nodded. "Yes."
"Are you sure?" Lex asked skeptically. "I mean, he is employed by Lane Enterprises. I have a hard time believing that he'd be willing to implicate not only his employer but probably himself in wrong-doings. He is the plant manager, right?"
"Yes. But he also is a good man," Martha said. "When I talked to him, he was visibly upset at the idea that something from his factory might be making people upset.
"Does he have anything to do with waste management?"
"I don't know, Lex, I'm sorry. You'll have to talk to him."
Clark looked at Lex, eyebrows raised. "I'll give him a call and see if we can set something up. I don't think we should meet him at the plant, though."
Lex sighed and ran a hand over his head. "I should probably stay as far from it as I can. I don't doubt my presence in town will eventually get back to Lois, but there's no reason to draw attention to myself by walking into enemy territory. But it's possible no one would think to tell her that you're here. She might not even remember who you are."
He flashed Lex a smile. "Wow. I feel loved."
"You know how self absorbed she is. It's not an insult."
"I know. But I'd still rather have your eyes when we met with Derek." His smile grew. "Mine aren't quite as keen."
Warmth began to gather underneath Lex's collar as he gazed into Clark's eyes, once again hidden by the glasses. But it was different now. His eyes were more open and aware. Stripped, almost, and trusting.
Lex wanted to kiss him. Not because of any heat or passion. It just felt right. Like it should be the most natural thing in the world to leaned across the table and kiss Clark gently.
But not with Clark's mother in the room.
He cleared his throat. "Uh, okay. Should you call him?"
Clark rose. "I'll go do that now." He left the room.
"So," Martha said, leaning across the table. "How have you been? Clark called me the night of the shooting, while you were in surgery. How is it?"
"Fine." Lex rubbed his shoulder. "I'm fine. The wound's healing fine, and it's going to fade to a scar. I'm lucky it didn't break the bone; the bullet just pierced the flesh."
"That is lucky. And then you met Superman."
His heart started to pound and Lex found he couldn't meet Martha's eyes.
"Your article was wonderful. You are a very talent writer."
"Thank you."
"My only concern is how much hero worship went into it. Not that I think having a hero is wrong, or even that a being like Superman isn't deserving of it, I just worry about what it could mean."
She knew. She knew he knew and he wasn't even sure he knew what he knew. Even though he knew he knew, really, no matter how much he tried to pretend he didn't really know, and now she knew and ....
Lex shook his head, dizzy suddenly.
"It's nothing," he said, mouth like cotton. "I mean, I had a few stars in my eyes and all, but who wouldn't have." He looked up, but still couldn't quite look into her eyes. "I, uh, enjoy working with your son, Martha. He's a fantastic writer, and a great person." He looked past her into the other room where Clark was on the phone. For a moment, everything but Clark seemed to grow dim, and all that existed was him.
Clark glanced at him and smiled. Lex's stomach turned to jelly.
"You seem to work well together," Martha said, breaking the haze.
"Yeah." He tore his eyes from Clark to look at her. "I wasn't sure at first how I felt about having a partner. I've always worked on my own, ever since Perry White took me under his wing. But Clark rounds me out nicely, I think." He glanced at Clark again. "I'm a better reporter because of him."
"And Superman?"
"He's fantastic," Lex said with a sigh. "But he's not quite real. And I'm beginning to think that real isn't so bad after all."
Martha smiled at him. Reaching across the table, she covered his hand with hers. "Don't break my son's heart, okay? And ... don't break your own."
He swallowed hard and gave her a ghost of a smile. Because, even though it was obvious he couldn't be satisfied with someone who flew in and out of his life, he still wasn't convinced he was strong enough for someone who stayed.
TBC ...
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
And
They left early in the morning, before the sun even rose, at Clark's suggestion.
"If we get there early enough," he'd said, "there still might be pancakes."
That had been fine with Lex. He liked pancakes and never turned down free food. Besides, morning was the best time to start a trip. Just like how coffee always tasted fresh first thing. And, Clark had been right; the coffee house down the street from him had the best coffee in the world.
Clark was still packing when Lex arrived.
"Sorry," he said. His toothbrush was in his mouth, flannel shirt open and displaying the most impressive six-pack Lex had ever seen outside of Hollywood, and he was tossing clothes into his suitcase as he ran around the apartment.
"No problem." Lex sipped his coffee before setting it on Clark's table/desk/secretary and, apparently, dresser. "Hey, Clark? Have you ever thought about buying new furniture?" he asked, going to the suitcase and pulling the clothes back out. He began to fold them neatly.
Clark's apartment was a study in poverty. The couch was lime green burlap or something, over stuffed, and tilted. There was a throw rug on the floor that looked as if a dog had chewed, loved, and peed on many, many times. The television had a crack across the screen. His refrigerator hummed loudly. The microwave blinked 12:0. And, looking into the bedroom, Clark's bed was a mattress on the floor, covered in clothes.
"I haven't had time," he explained. He ran into the bathroom and spit the toothpaste out. Then he ran back out, comb stuck in his hair. "I'm going shopping as soon as things settle down."
Lex finished folding the last shirt and placed it back in Clark's suitcase carefully. Clark was still running around like a chicken with his head cut off, looking underneath things for his shoes as he pulled his sock on with hand and combed his hair with the other. Actually, raked his hair was more like it.
Calmly, Lex stepped in front of Clark, arms folded across his chest. "Clark, stop."
He obeyed, blinking at Lex as if confused. He was tilted, one hand on his sock, trying to yank it up, but at least he'd stopped.
"Your problem is, I think, that you don't make the time." He grimaced. "Not that I'm one to talk." He took hold of Clark's shirt in both fists and tugged the kid up. Then, as sad as he was to, he buttoned it. "You look good in this, which is frightening because it's flannel."
Clark smiled blushingly. "Thanks. It's kind of, like, my native attire, you know?"
"You do look more comfortable in it than you do in the clothes you wear to work." He smoothed out the wrinkles on Clark's shoulders and cocked his head. He was suddenly consumed with the urge to take him shopping. It was strange; he'd known Clark had a good build and a nice body, but suddenly seeing it in normal clothes made Lex want to play dress up. "It fits you better. And is a better color than brown. The blue really brings out your eyes. Even behind those glasses." Maybe he could find a way to get Clark some better frames. Obviously he wore them for a reason, so Lex wouldn't suggest he stop wearing them, but new frames might make him look more attractive without drawing too much attention to him.
"Yeah, well, I actually think someone else bought this for me. My mom, probably. That's why it fits. I basically go into a store and grab whatever's closest."
"It's frightening that the only thing that keeps you from being a candidate on "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" is the fact that you're straight." Then, smiling, he pulled the comb from Clark's hair. "You don't have to rush. We can leave whenever."
Clark sighed. "I know. I just really want to be gone, you know? Get this over with."
"Get what over with?"
"Going home," Clark said with a shrug. "Seeing my parents. Or, actually, getting there. I want to skip the seeing them for the first time part. I haven't seen them since getting the job at the Planet, and, well, there's a part of me that's not looking forward to it. I mean, a huge part of me is, because I miss them. But." He sighed and shook his head.
Lex nodded. "Parental relations can be strange. You love them, you get frustrated by them, you want them to be proud of you, but you want them to trust you to know what's right, too."
He sighed again and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah." He looked as if he were about to say more, when he went completely tense, eyes snapping open.
Lex frowned and glanced at where Clark was looking. There was nothing there, not even a window. It was a solid wall, one with stains and cracks on it. Nothing special. But Clark's eyes were on it, albeit unfocused, as if all his concentration was on something inside him. Or ... or another sense.
"Clark?" he said tentatively. He placed his hand on Clark's shoulder.
Clark didn't hear him. He was like a statue, marble still except for quivering muscles that were held too tautly. His body was in the room; his mind was elsewhere.
This was discomforting and Lex didn't know what to do. But he had to try something.
"Clark? Clark? *Clark*!" he shouted, jumping up and down in front of Clark.
He got a blink.
"Hey! Look at me." He smacked Clark's cheek with the palm of his hand.
The spell broke. Clark blinked again, awareness creeping into his eyes. He released a breath he must have been holding and shuddered.
"Sorry. I ..." He frowned and looked at the wall again.
Lex forced Clark's head back to him. "Clark. Whatever it is, let it go," he said softly.
"But ..."
"Let it go."
He didn't say anything at first. The desire to do ... whatever it was he wanted to do (and Lex had a fairly guess what it was) was strong. Every muscle was tense and quivering, and the lines around his eyes grew deeper.
And then, the tension broke. A huge sigh erupted from his lungs and he went limp.
"Let's sit for a second," Lex suggested. He pulled Clark to the couch, even as he eyed it warily. He really didn't think it would hold Clark's weight.
But, it did. Clark sank onto the couch and closed his eyes. After a moment of indecision, Lex sat next to him.
"Want to tell me what just happened?" he asked, knowing what the answer would be.
Clark just sighed and rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "I'm just tired. Everything's just been so much lately."
"Yeah, it's been a rough month." Lex leaned against the back of the couch and gazed at Clark's profile. Like the rest of him, it was perfect. Chiseled and classic, like a painting.
He bit his lower lip and reached out to take the glasses off, wanting to see what Clark looked like without them. But, inches away, he stopped and, instead ran his knuckles down Clark's cheek. "You're going home, though. I know you're nervous about seeing your parents, but it's home."
Clark caught Lex's hand in his and turned his head. His eyes opened, and a soft smile crossed his face. "Yeah. Home."
They continued to gaze at each other for a long moment, and the air grew dark around them. Lex's breath caught in his throat and his skin began to tingle with possibility. And awareness.
Clark licked his lips and leaned in a little closer. "Lex," he whispered, "are you attracted to me?"
"Clark ..."
"Because you know I think you're gorgeous, right?"
Lex sighed. "I think your glasses are ugly and the clothes you choose to wear make you look like a dork." He started to rise, but Clark wrapped his hand around his wrist.
"But are you attracted to me?"
"Clark ..." He sighed again and looked at Clark. "Fine. Yes. I am."
Clark's smile was magnificent. Without even moving, he suddenly looked as if he'd gotten a few hours of quality sleep. Roses flushed his cheeks, and his eyes sparkled, and Lex was hard pressed not to plant a kiss on the luscious lips.
Instead, he yanked his hand away and rose. "But don't get any ideas. You're my coworkers, and I don't date co-workers," he warned. "Come on. We should hit the road."
"Okay," Clark agree amicably. He finished putting on his shoes, then grabbed his jacket, and closed his suitcase. "Who drives? You or me?"
"I'll drive."
To Lex's complete lack of surprise, Clark fell asleep about fifteen minutes in their journey. He tried valiantly to stay awake, even trying to carry on a conversation with Lex. They talked about their strategy for finding out what Level Three was, where it was, and, most importantly, how the chemicals were being transported from Smallville to the dumping sight without anyone noticing.
And, when Clark started saying things like, "Maybe the bunnies take it," Lex knew it was time to stop talking.
After Clark was asleep, Lex sighed and lit up a cigarette. He was getting in over his head, falling a little bit more for Clark each day. This weekend was going to be torture. Three, maybe four days living in the same house as Clark. Maybe seeing him every morning with his shirt off, maybe more.
And, worse, there wouldn't be any Superman to distract him from Clark. Clark, who was absolutely adorable in sleep. Clark, with the beautifully thick hair and eyelashes that went on forever that framed gorgeous eyes. While he slept, his head had lolled onto his shoulder and mouth fell open enough so Lex could see the impressive fangs inside. It was a sad, sad day when Lex found lack of adequate orthodontia attractive.
Needing to distract himself, Lex flipped the music on a drove, pushing the speed until he was fairly sure that he was going too fast for police officers to see him. Which was fine with him. The sooner Metropolis was a distant memory, the better. No, this wasn't exactly a vacation for him, but it was a new place, and a small town. It was going to be different in Smallville. No reporters hounding him, no people wanting to know what Superman was really like, no accusations, and, most importantly, no Lois Lane.
He laughed at himself, realizing that, even though a moment ago he'd been lamenting the lack of Superman, there was a part of him that was almost glad of it.
Unless ...
Lex glanced at Clark again and sighed.
Clark's glasses had fallen off his face and were dangling by the earpiece. Lex took them, carefully folded them, and clipped them onto Clark's shirt. He wondered how long it would take Clark to realize he wasn't wearing them, or if it was an automatic impulse now.
It took over three hours to get to there. Clark slept the whole way, and Lex was glad. Clark obviously needed it.
When Lex saw the sign proclaiming they'd reached Smallville, the Meteor Capital of the World, he pulled over and shook Clark.
"Hey. Wake up."
Clark groaned and squeezed his eyes tighter.
He laughed softly and unbuckled his seat belt. Leaning closer, Lex whispered in Clark's ear, "Rise and shine, Clark, it's time to face the day.
"Five more minutes," Clark begged.
"But it's your turn to drive, kid. I don't know where you live."
Clark covered Lex's face with his hand and pushed him back onto his seat. "Shhhh. Sleeping. You sleep too."
"Clark!" Lex exclaimed through laughter that was bubbling in his chest. "Wake up, Clark. Unless you want me to drive aimlessly until we're hopelessly lost, found by lonely mountain men and used for their own twisted pleasure."
"Mmmm," Clark sighed. His eyes opened. "Mountain men. Oh, wait. This is Kansas." He turned his head. "There are none."
"Well, then, whatever passes."
Clark sighed again, his lips turning down. "I've changed my mind. Can we just go home?"
"I thought we were home. Your home." He took a deep breath. "I thought *you* were coming home."
He sighed and rubbed Lex's neck. "I don't think I've ever been this tired before in my life. I literally feel as if my blood has been leached of iron or something, and all that's left is weak, white fluid. And I don't know if I want to face my parents yet."
"Why not?"
"Dad has a thing against Luthors, for one." He flushed. "Sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
Lex frowned and sat up. "What does he have against Luthors?"
He shrugged. "Some old wound, I don't know. He knew your dad, I know that much. And, uh, your dad had something to do with my adoption. And a friend of mine's parents owned the creamed corn factory before your dad bought it, and my dad thinks your dad cheated them. And ...."
"Fuck, Clark, does the whole town hate me, or just your parents?"
Clark seemed to shrink in on himself. "My mom doesn't hate you."
"Shit." He climbed out of the car, hands pressed against his eyes.
This was just fantastic. His entire life, he'd feared Smallville because of the meteor shower. It had haunted his dreams and still caused him to wake up, breathless and terrified at times. Smallville had been the beginning of the end. He'd lost his hair, then Julian, his mother, and Pamela within the span of four years.
And now, he'd *finally* worked up enough nerve to come back, only to find out that everyone hated him.
"Lex ..."
"Leave me alone," he snapped. Unable to face Clark, he started walking down the road. It was cold, and he hadn't put on his jacket when he'd sprung from the car. No matter. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and started walking.
He'd wanted this to work out. This weekend, or however long they were there. Perry had given them until Tuesday to come up with something and then, depending on what they found, longer. Or not. It depended.
He'd wanted time alone with Clark, in Clark's natural setting. After the strange month they'd had, and Lex's suspicions about him, he felt he needed to get Clark away. Away from the city, away from the millions of people who needed Clark--or Superman--more than he did.
Lex had never hated a million people before. And if he was wrong, and if Clark really was just busy with other things lately, then ... well, he hated whatever was keeping Clark away from him.
But now, everything was different. Smallville wasn't just unpleasant territory, it was enemy territory. A place where everyone was going to hate him not only because of things he had done, but because of things his father had done in pursuit of an empire that was now gone.
Sighing dejectedly, Lex followed the road as it rounded the bend. Maybe if he got himself good and lost, Superman would find him. Maybe it was Superman he wanted to be around right now, and not Clark. Not Clark, with is judgmental parents, and secrets, and longings that Lex was afraid he wouldn't be enough for.
Suddenly, Lex stopped, skin prickling. He knew this place. The road, the location. The field.
And there it was. The plant he'd come to investigate. The plant that was probably the responsible for at least five deaths, quite a few illnesses, and the destruction of land. The plant in which his father had, perhaps, conducted experiments with meteors that had made Lex bald, and Lois was probably carrying on.
Oh, and the plant his father had bought, making an entire town hate him and Lex by extension.
He watched the activity across the road. The early morning crew was coming in for work, driving beat up pick up trucks and four door sedans. Family men and women, who worked at the plant because it was the single biggest employer in the town and they had mouths to feed.
Lex wondered about scientists. He wondered if Level 3 was supposed to be above or below ground, or if it was just a code name that didn't have anything to do with levels.
He wondered if the people climbing out of their cars knew that the waste produced from this plant was killing people not fifty miles away from them. He wondered ...
He wondered how long he could look at the plant as if all his attention wasn't focused on the field behind him.
Lex took a deep breath and turned. The cornfield was still there, but there was no corn. Harvest had passed, corn had been picked, and the field was bare.
He laughed, tears rising to his eyes. This was what he'd been afraid of. An empty field, easily conquerable by man.
"You okay?" Clark asked softly, coming to stand beside him.
"Yeah," he answered breathlessly. He wiped his eyes and glanced up at Clark.
He was looking down at Lex through concerned eyes. He was also wearing his glasses again.
Lex sighed and looked at the field. "This field, I've been here before. This is where I was during the meteor shower. Dad was with the Rosses in front of the plant, and I'd wandered over here. To explore. And because grown-ups are boring. I heard someone calling for help. There was this man, boy. I guess he was a teenager. He'd been stripped to his underwear and tied to a cross. There was an S painted on his chest. We were both hit by the meteors." Lex licked his lips. "I never understood what he was doing there, but when I heard about Matthew Shepard, I finally got it."
Clark cleared his throat. "Uh," he said awkwardly, "actually, no."
"No?" Lex said, frowning at him.
"Yeah. It wasn't a hate crime. It was a tradition. Every year for homecoming the football team chooses a freshman to be the scarecrow. They strip him down, tie him up, and leave him out here until after the game. Or the dance, depending on when they finally remember he's out here."
"How do you .... Oh." Lex grimaced. "Sorry."
"You didn't do it."
"No." He looked back at the empty field and then laughed. "Christ. All these years." He sighed. "Is there anyplace for me to stay in town?"
Clark tentatively put his arm around Lex's shoulders. "No, there isn't any place for you to stay in town. You're staying with me at my home. As my guest."
"I don't want to cause any problems, Clark."
"You won't." He squeezed Lex's arm. "Lex, my dad doesn't even know you. He had problems with your dad, and ..."
"Clark," Lex interrupted. He turned to face Clark, and rested his hands on Clark's chest lightly, half trying to push him away, half for the comfort of Clark's body under his hands. "I've been worn to the bone. I don't want to have defend myself while invading another man's home. I ..."
Clark kissed the same way Superman did. His mouth was warm and demanding, tongue soothing. His hands held Lex in the same way, comfortingly and securely. And Lex felt just as safe.
"I said not to get any ideas," Lex said breathlessly when they broke apart. He licked his lips and tried to stop himself from leaning in for more.
Clark's thumb smoothed down his cheek, and Clark smiled. "I thought you meant new ideas. Don't get any *new* ideas. I've had that one for a long time."
"Oh." He licked his lips again, unsure what to say.
"Come on, Lex." Clark pulled away, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He started walking back down the road to the car. "Let's go home."
* * *
As it turned out, Clark needn't had warned Lex about his father's animosity. Whatever feelings he'd had about Lionel didn't extend to Lex, apparently. Jonathan Kent was nothing but polite and welcoming, even to the point of clapping Lex on the back before heading back out to work. And Martha ...
Let's just say that if Lex wanted a new mother, he'd found his choice. Beautiful and intelligent, Martha Kent was perfect. She greeted Lex with a hug, stuffed him with the most delicious pancakes on earth, and looked at him as if she saw into his soul.
"You have a crush on my mother, don't you?" Clark asked when Martha left the room for a moment.
He blushed. And honest to God blush that made Clark grin at him. "She's a fantastic woman," he finally answered, looking down at his plate.
Clark didn't answer, but he looked pleased.
"So," Martha said, coming back into the kitchen, "I did as you asked, Clark, and asked around a little. Nothing major, but some. Anyone who worked on the original Level 3 project that Earl Jenkins said was there came from outside of Smallville. Derek, Lana's husband, managed to dig up some partial employment records, and a lot of there were a lot of out of town employees who disappeared soon after Earl said the accident was." She handed Lex and Clark some papers.
"Did Derek say he'd talk to us?" Clark asked, looking them over.
She nodded. "Yes."
"Are you sure?" Lex asked skeptically. "I mean, he is employed by Lane Enterprises. I have a hard time believing that he'd be willing to implicate not only his employer but probably himself in wrong-doings. He is the plant manager, right?"
"Yes. But he also is a good man," Martha said. "When I talked to him, he was visibly upset at the idea that something from his factory might be making people upset.
"Does he have anything to do with waste management?"
"I don't know, Lex, I'm sorry. You'll have to talk to him."
Clark looked at Lex, eyebrows raised. "I'll give him a call and see if we can set something up. I don't think we should meet him at the plant, though."
Lex sighed and ran a hand over his head. "I should probably stay as far from it as I can. I don't doubt my presence in town will eventually get back to Lois, but there's no reason to draw attention to myself by walking into enemy territory. But it's possible no one would think to tell her that you're here. She might not even remember who you are."
He flashed Lex a smile. "Wow. I feel loved."
"You know how self absorbed she is. It's not an insult."
"I know. But I'd still rather have your eyes when we met with Derek." His smile grew. "Mine aren't quite as keen."
Warmth began to gather underneath Lex's collar as he gazed into Clark's eyes, once again hidden by the glasses. But it was different now. His eyes were more open and aware. Stripped, almost, and trusting.
Lex wanted to kiss him. Not because of any heat or passion. It just felt right. Like it should be the most natural thing in the world to leaned across the table and kiss Clark gently.
But not with Clark's mother in the room.
He cleared his throat. "Uh, okay. Should you call him?"
Clark rose. "I'll go do that now." He left the room.
"So," Martha said, leaning across the table. "How have you been? Clark called me the night of the shooting, while you were in surgery. How is it?"
"Fine." Lex rubbed his shoulder. "I'm fine. The wound's healing fine, and it's going to fade to a scar. I'm lucky it didn't break the bone; the bullet just pierced the flesh."
"That is lucky. And then you met Superman."
His heart started to pound and Lex found he couldn't meet Martha's eyes.
"Your article was wonderful. You are a very talent writer."
"Thank you."
"My only concern is how much hero worship went into it. Not that I think having a hero is wrong, or even that a being like Superman isn't deserving of it, I just worry about what it could mean."
She knew. She knew he knew and he wasn't even sure he knew what he knew. Even though he knew he knew, really, no matter how much he tried to pretend he didn't really know, and now she knew and ....
Lex shook his head, dizzy suddenly.
"It's nothing," he said, mouth like cotton. "I mean, I had a few stars in my eyes and all, but who wouldn't have." He looked up, but still couldn't quite look into her eyes. "I, uh, enjoy working with your son, Martha. He's a fantastic writer, and a great person." He looked past her into the other room where Clark was on the phone. For a moment, everything but Clark seemed to grow dim, and all that existed was him.
Clark glanced at him and smiled. Lex's stomach turned to jelly.
"You seem to work well together," Martha said, breaking the haze.
"Yeah." He tore his eyes from Clark to look at her. "I wasn't sure at first how I felt about having a partner. I've always worked on my own, ever since Perry White took me under his wing. But Clark rounds me out nicely, I think." He glanced at Clark again. "I'm a better reporter because of him."
"And Superman?"
"He's fantastic," Lex said with a sigh. "But he's not quite real. And I'm beginning to think that real isn't so bad after all."
Martha smiled at him. Reaching across the table, she covered his hand with hers. "Don't break my son's heart, okay? And ... don't break your own."
He swallowed hard and gave her a ghost of a smile. Because, even though it was obvious he couldn't be satisfied with someone who flew in and out of his life, he still wasn't convinced he was strong enough for someone who stayed.
TBC ...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 12:31 pm (UTC)heh, i just love it that lex is so marvelously conflicted between superman and clark kent. he'll be in a twist when he finds out his two loves are one and the same, won't he?
no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 02:20 pm (UTC)He is very conflicted, isn't he. He has to choose what's good for him, but frightens him, and what is bad, but more romantic/fun. Hard choice, especially for someone so messed up. :)
Thanks for you comments!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 12:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 02:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 12:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 02:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 12:49 pm (UTC)Yep. That's Lex. 8-)
Still loving this story. And, aw! The in-laws like him!
If you need a(nother) beta for this, btw, I'd be happy to help.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 02:24 pm (UTC)okay... no pressure!
Date: 2004-01-05 01:41 pm (UTC)Also, laughed myself silly through the first part of the story; what with the doggie adored throw rug and the microwave that blinks twelve except the last zero is burned out! ROFL! Clark cannot bring a chick to that apartment. hehe. And they just slowly warm to each other with the touching and caring gestures rather that the great proclaimations of adoration. Yum!
And the first kiss of intent... gorgeous! Oh, my. Then the circle back to humor at the end... perfection. *g* and the woobie!Lex with committment issues. *sigh* Love it.
I hope the tone continues just as it is. It's so very real. This may be your best yet!
Awesome
Teri
Re: okay... no pressure!
Date: 2004-01-05 08:49 pm (UTC)This fic is a lot of fun to write, for all the troubles I've been having. The tone is easy enough to keep, but the plot keeps tripping me up. But the little details, like the dog-loved rug and burnt out microwave, make up for it, because it's just so much fun. :P
Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 01:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 02:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 01:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 08:50 pm (UTC)Um ... because you were doing a fantastic beta job on COTW 42? ;)
Hope you enjoy!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-06 09:56 am (UTC)I am now printing this story to read while my boss takes depositions this afternoon. But fyi, the link to part 5 actually takes you to part 4.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-07 08:36 am (UTC)Thanks, I fixed the link. Hope you enjoy/ed the fic!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 03:20 pm (UTC)So back to the Clarkian subtext, I really like how Lex has to pry him open, how he *doesn't* talk willingly about his background or what Lex might find there until they're right up on it. It has me hoping that Supes will show up to ravish him, talk too much, and Lex will put vocal pitch, eyecolor, haircolor, those abs (oh yes, those abs), taste, and smell together.
Can't wait to see how they deal with dating in the workplace.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 08:54 pm (UTC)I've driven 3 hours before, and with a partner, but it still seems long to me. However, you are right, and unless you're driving with kids (which is where the majority of my long distance driving comes from), they probably wouldn't have switched. I'll fix that.
So back to the Clarkian subtext, I really like how Lex has to pry him open, how he *doesn't* talk willingly about his background or what Lex might find there until they're right up on it.
As much as I love Clark, I *don't* see him changing his habitual caginess unless he's forced to. In COTW, he has to because he's in a long term relationship with Lex, but in this fic, he's all brand new in a lot of ways. He's *just* come out as Superman, has *just* fallen in love with the man of his dreams, but can't quite yet open up all the way yet.
Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 07:10 pm (UTC)Hee. I like this new part. I love Martha. I like how Lex is falling for someone normal and someone who will love him back. Hee hee. *bounces*
no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 08:55 pm (UTC)Martha is just perfect, no matter what story she's in. :)
I like how Lex is falling for someone normal and someone who will love him back.
Hee. "Normal" you mean. :P But Clark will definitly love him back. And then they'll live happily ever after.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 08:44 pm (UTC)I'm loving it. :-)
no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 08:56 pm (UTC)Thanks! ;P
no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 08:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 09:01 pm (UTC)'And, when Clark started saying things like, "Maybe the bunnies take it," Lex knew it was time to stop talking.'
I can definitely relate to being that tired.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-05 10:13 pm (UTC)I've been there a few times myself. ;) I'm glad you're enjoying the fic.
about the re-write
Date: 2004-01-06 06:21 am (UTC)"It's frightening that the only thing that keeps you from being a candidate on "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" is the fact that you're straight."
*Not* straight, right?*g* Is Clark *sure* the scarecrow custom has nothing to do with homophobia? They did pick him, after all.
Re: about the re-write
Date: 2004-01-06 07:10 am (UTC)Yeah. They picked him because Whiteny thought Clark was making a play for Lana. And, over the years, lots of other guys were picked for various reasons. This is not a hate crime they way Lex was indicating; it's a twisted tradition.
LOL
Date: 2004-01-06 09:26 pm (UTC)She knew. She knew he knew and he wasn't even sure he knew what he knew. Even though he knew he knew, really, no matter how much he tried to pretend he didn't really know, and now she knew and ....
Hee-hee! Again, this is all goodness!