COTW 52: Cat and Mouse
May. 13th, 2006 11:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
"Dinner was really good, Mom," Clark said. He pushed his seat back and picked up his plate.
"I'm glad you liked it. You didn't each much, though."
He sighed and ignored the worried look on her face. "I'm just not all that super hungry, that's all." He picked up her and his dad's plate and carried them over to the sink. "Lex's is all upset right now. That's affecting me."
"Has he told you what's wrong?"
Clark shook his head. "He's too agitated. I want to call, but..." He trailed off and shrugged. He didn't know what was going on. He just knew it wasn't good. The whole day had been one disaster after another and he could tell this was going to be the final blow.
He sighed. Turning on the water, he picked up a sponge and started scrubbing at the dishes.
"Honey?" Martha put her hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"It's just Lex. He's got a headache or something, and that always makes it worse. I tried touching his mind earlier, and it really hurt. So, I have to wait."
"It's more than that, though. You've been in a bad mood since you got home."
"Mom..."
"Did something happen with the social worker?"
He turned the water off. Hands deep in soapy water, he stood there, staring sightlessly at the wall. Maybe if he stood very still, she would go away, forget she asked. Because he didn't want to talk about it. Didn't want to tell her.
Martha sighed. "I'll take that as a yes." She took the sponge from his lifeless fingers. "What happened?"
"I don't..."
"What happened, Clark?" She took his hand and pulled him from the kitchen into the living room.
"What's going on?" Jonathan was in his chair, paper open, glasses on. He looked up, though, and took off his glasses when Martha pushed Clark onto the couch.
"Clark saw the social worker today." She put her arm around him. "Tell me what happened."
"Mom, I'll handle it. It's fine." He closed his eyes, though, kicked off his shoes. She was warm and soft and home. And she stroked through his hair, down his neck, made his muscles relax and the horrible blocked feeling in his stomach start to dissolve.
She kissed the top of his head. "Talk to me, baby. What happened?"
He sniffed. "They sent a man."
"Men make you uncomfortable," Mom said.
"Yeah. If I know them, it's okay. Or if I... you know." He sniffed again. "I fucked up big time with Grant," he suddenly said. Sobbed, whatever.
The couch cushion behind him dipped. Dad's hand slid up his back. "What do you mean?"
His body shook and he squeezed his eyes tighter. "In Metropolis. I kissed him. Twice. I wanted... I don't know. I just reacted and now I can't talk to him. I was going to call him today because I don't want to make you and Dad feel bad that Lionel's still trying to get to me and that it's working, and because Mr. Townsend is with Whitney, I can't talk to him like I used to. And Lex's got his own problems, so... But I screwed up."
"When did you kiss him?"
"That weekend I ran away."
"I know. I mean, did you kiss him before he brought you back or after?"
"Before. We were still in Metropolis." He wiped a tear that had escaped down his cheek.
"Did you talk about it?"
He nodded.
"Was Grant upset?"
"No. He said, he said that it was normal. That I was upset and looking for comfort with someone I knew. That I shouldn't be embarrassed or angry at myself or anything."
"But you still are," Dad said.
"Wouldn't you be?" Clark sat up and turned so he could see both of them. "Grant's this really hot, older guy and I'm a screwed up moron kid. I don't know what I was thinking." He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "And I have to see him again, because he wants to do a story on Whitney and me and our friendship. How am I supposed to face him? He's gotta think I'm such an idiot."
"Or he could be flattered."
Clark dropped his hands and shot her a look. "Yeah. Everyone's flattered when stupid jailbait kids being followed by the tabloids come on to them."
She smiled. "All that aside, he knows you, and he knows how you are about letting people get close to you. About intimacy. You've only been with Lex, and you've been known to freak out when others try to get closer than you're comfortable yet. And, yet, with all your issues, you showed Grant that he is one person that you trust and are comfortable with. And that's very flattering, especially considering that he knows what a special young man you are."
"Yeah, short-bus special."
Dad whacked him on the back of the head. "None of that kind of talk."
"Sorry, Dad." He sighed. "It's embarrassing."
"Being a teenager is embarrassing," Dad said. "Do you think you're the first person to ever get a crush on someone older and unattainable?"
Clark shrugged.
His father ruffled his hair. "When I was your age, I had the biggest crush on Miss Hendricks. She taught home economics and coached cheerleading." He smiled, eyes distant and fond. "I followed her around everywhere. Any day I didn't have practice, I was in her classroom, helping her out, carrying things to her car, back to the class, whatever. I was so infatuated."
"Yeah," Clark said, completely uncomfortable both by the idea of his dad as a love-sick fool and by the fact his mom was looking at Dad like he was the cutest thing ever. It was weird. "But you didn't come on to her. You didn't kiss her."
He cleared his throat, shifted on the couch, and averted his eyes.
Oh. "You did?"
"I tried." Dad was blushing. "In the gym one day after school. Right before the spring formal. I was helping her set up some streamers, everything seemed perfect, so I kissed her."
Oh God, oh God, oh God. Clark squirmed on the couch and tightened his arms across his chest. Why wouldn't the floor swallow him up? "What did she do?" Clark asked, interested despite the horrific embarrassment.
"She, uh, was nice enough about it. Told me it was inappropriate and that I was just a kid. I tried to argue, but she was very professional." Dad shrugged. "I stopped staying after school to help her after that and avoided her in the halls whenever I saw her. She tried to talk to me a few times, but I couldn't face her."
"I didn't get nearly so far," his mother said, "but I had my fair share of inappropriate crushes, too."
Clark shook his head. "It's not the same." They would never understand.
"Why isn't it the same?" His mother took his hand and squeezed it.
No way he could tell him *where* the second kiss had happened, or what he and Grant had--or, rather, hadn't--been wearing. Even though he'd been the aggressor and Grant had, ultimately, pushed him away, he didn't want Grant to get into any trouble. So, instead, he mumbled, "It's just... I really like Grant."
"I know that," said Mom.
"No, Mom." Clark rubbed his eyes. "I mean, I *really* like Grant. Like, like him like, if there wasn't a Lex, I'd want to be with Grant. Maybe," he added hastily.
He could feel his parents exchange glances over his head. There were sighs. His dad stroked his hair, his mom caressed his neck and shoulders.
"Honey," Mom said, "you know that Grant is over thirty years old. He's much to old for you."
His face was way too hot. He squirmed again, wishing his parents didn't insist on keeping him penned in. "I know."
"You're only sixteen."
"I know, Dad! God!" He jumped up from the couch and walked across the room. Agitated, Clark tugged the sleeves of his flannel over his hands. "I'm not saying that Grant would go for it or anything. But I like him better than any other guy I've ever met besides Lex. That's all I'm saying. Okay?"
"What about Whitney?"
"Whitney caught me with my hand on Lionel's dick!" Clark shouted. "Do you think I'd *want* a relationship with someone who's seen me like that?"
Mom was off the couch in a heartbeat.
"Don't!" he yelled, pressing himself into the corner.
She stopped. "Clark, what happened today?"
He wouldn't break. He wouldn't. He wouldn't.
Clark clenched his jaw. "Lionel somehow bribed the social service people. They sent a man." His voice cracked. "They sent a man who did his hair like Lionel. Who had a beard like Lionel. Who told me that it was all my fault and.... And I told him to go back and tell Lionel to shove it, but, God, I had to sit there and look at him and hear it, you know? And I'm so, so tired, Mama. I'm so tired." Exhausted, Clark slid to the floor and pulled his knees to his chest.
"I'll call Michelle tomorrow," Martha said. Her voice quaked. Her eyes were bright.
"Mom, I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for."
"I..." Clark was interrupted by a sudden knock on the front door.
"I'll get it," said Jonathan. His voice was soft, soothing, like he was talking to a skittish animal or something. As he passed Martha, he squeezed her hand.
She looked at him. The expression on her face made Clark's heart squeeze. That was why he hated all this. He hated making that expression, the pain, the sorrow, the helplessness, appear on his mother's face. It was all his fault.
Jonathan opened the door. "Lex." He reached out and took Lex by the shoulder. "Are you all right?"
Clark stood and walked towards the door. Lex was standing on the porch, his skin chalky pale, the circles under his eyes standing out under the porch light. His overnight bag was slung over his shoulder, Athena in her cage clutched in his left hand. Behind him, Clark could see a suitcase.
"No," Lex said softly, looking up at Jonathan. His eyes seemed unusually bright. "No, I'm not all right."
Jonathan's hand tightened on Lex's shoulder. "What's wrong?" He took Athena's cage from Lex and handed it to Martha.
Lex swallowed. Swayed slightly on his feet. "According to my father, I'm not longer a Luthor. He's left me with nothing, not even a place to live. I mean, I have the house, but it's not ready. No water, no heat, nothing. And all my money... it's in Damien's account, and it's low and I don't have anywhere to stay. I need..."
"You'll stay with us, son," Jonathan interrupted. He rubbed Lex's arm. "Just calm down. Breathe. You're fine. You might not be a Luthor, but that doesn't mean you don't have a family here to take care of you. It'll be okay."
"Thank you." He tore his eyes from Jonathan to Clark.
Clark stepped forward, opened his arms.
Lex seemed to float into them. The bag dropped on the floor, he took one step in the house and then, he was in Clark's arms, melting.
"I'm going to talk to Damien and Dominic," Clark heard his father say.
"All right. Lex? Honey, do you want something to eat?"
"Not really. I have a headache," Lex said into Clark's chest.
"You need to eat something." She brushed her hand over Lex's scalp. "I'll just get something light. Then I'll fix up your room."
Lex just nodded.
Clark backed up until he felt the couch hit the backs of his knees. He lowered him and Lex onto it, never unwrapping letting him go. His mouth nuzzled just below Lex's ear, tasting, comforting, smelling. Making sure that Lex wasn't going to fall apart or crumble into dust.
/ I can't believe he did this, / Lex said.
/ He's an ass. He's so incredibly stupid. He just doesn't realize what a prize you are. /
/ Why do I even care? I don't want to care. It hurts. /
/ I know. / Clark kissed his temple. / I know. But it will be okay. We're together. /
/ I know. But it still hurts. /
/ Yeah, baby. I know. I know. /
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
"Dinner was really good, Mom," Clark said. He pushed his seat back and picked up his plate.
"I'm glad you liked it. You didn't each much, though."
He sighed and ignored the worried look on her face. "I'm just not all that super hungry, that's all." He picked up her and his dad's plate and carried them over to the sink. "Lex's is all upset right now. That's affecting me."
"Has he told you what's wrong?"
Clark shook his head. "He's too agitated. I want to call, but..." He trailed off and shrugged. He didn't know what was going on. He just knew it wasn't good. The whole day had been one disaster after another and he could tell this was going to be the final blow.
He sighed. Turning on the water, he picked up a sponge and started scrubbing at the dishes.
"Honey?" Martha put her hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"It's just Lex. He's got a headache or something, and that always makes it worse. I tried touching his mind earlier, and it really hurt. So, I have to wait."
"It's more than that, though. You've been in a bad mood since you got home."
"Mom..."
"Did something happen with the social worker?"
He turned the water off. Hands deep in soapy water, he stood there, staring sightlessly at the wall. Maybe if he stood very still, she would go away, forget she asked. Because he didn't want to talk about it. Didn't want to tell her.
Martha sighed. "I'll take that as a yes." She took the sponge from his lifeless fingers. "What happened?"
"I don't..."
"What happened, Clark?" She took his hand and pulled him from the kitchen into the living room.
"What's going on?" Jonathan was in his chair, paper open, glasses on. He looked up, though, and took off his glasses when Martha pushed Clark onto the couch.
"Clark saw the social worker today." She put her arm around him. "Tell me what happened."
"Mom, I'll handle it. It's fine." He closed his eyes, though, kicked off his shoes. She was warm and soft and home. And she stroked through his hair, down his neck, made his muscles relax and the horrible blocked feeling in his stomach start to dissolve.
She kissed the top of his head. "Talk to me, baby. What happened?"
He sniffed. "They sent a man."
"Men make you uncomfortable," Mom said.
"Yeah. If I know them, it's okay. Or if I... you know." He sniffed again. "I fucked up big time with Grant," he suddenly said. Sobbed, whatever.
The couch cushion behind him dipped. Dad's hand slid up his back. "What do you mean?"
His body shook and he squeezed his eyes tighter. "In Metropolis. I kissed him. Twice. I wanted... I don't know. I just reacted and now I can't talk to him. I was going to call him today because I don't want to make you and Dad feel bad that Lionel's still trying to get to me and that it's working, and because Mr. Townsend is with Whitney, I can't talk to him like I used to. And Lex's got his own problems, so... But I screwed up."
"When did you kiss him?"
"That weekend I ran away."
"I know. I mean, did you kiss him before he brought you back or after?"
"Before. We were still in Metropolis." He wiped a tear that had escaped down his cheek.
"Did you talk about it?"
He nodded.
"Was Grant upset?"
"No. He said, he said that it was normal. That I was upset and looking for comfort with someone I knew. That I shouldn't be embarrassed or angry at myself or anything."
"But you still are," Dad said.
"Wouldn't you be?" Clark sat up and turned so he could see both of them. "Grant's this really hot, older guy and I'm a screwed up moron kid. I don't know what I was thinking." He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. "And I have to see him again, because he wants to do a story on Whitney and me and our friendship. How am I supposed to face him? He's gotta think I'm such an idiot."
"Or he could be flattered."
Clark dropped his hands and shot her a look. "Yeah. Everyone's flattered when stupid jailbait kids being followed by the tabloids come on to them."
She smiled. "All that aside, he knows you, and he knows how you are about letting people get close to you. About intimacy. You've only been with Lex, and you've been known to freak out when others try to get closer than you're comfortable yet. And, yet, with all your issues, you showed Grant that he is one person that you trust and are comfortable with. And that's very flattering, especially considering that he knows what a special young man you are."
"Yeah, short-bus special."
Dad whacked him on the back of the head. "None of that kind of talk."
"Sorry, Dad." He sighed. "It's embarrassing."
"Being a teenager is embarrassing," Dad said. "Do you think you're the first person to ever get a crush on someone older and unattainable?"
Clark shrugged.
His father ruffled his hair. "When I was your age, I had the biggest crush on Miss Hendricks. She taught home economics and coached cheerleading." He smiled, eyes distant and fond. "I followed her around everywhere. Any day I didn't have practice, I was in her classroom, helping her out, carrying things to her car, back to the class, whatever. I was so infatuated."
"Yeah," Clark said, completely uncomfortable both by the idea of his dad as a love-sick fool and by the fact his mom was looking at Dad like he was the cutest thing ever. It was weird. "But you didn't come on to her. You didn't kiss her."
He cleared his throat, shifted on the couch, and averted his eyes.
Oh. "You did?"
"I tried." Dad was blushing. "In the gym one day after school. Right before the spring formal. I was helping her set up some streamers, everything seemed perfect, so I kissed her."
Oh God, oh God, oh God. Clark squirmed on the couch and tightened his arms across his chest. Why wouldn't the floor swallow him up? "What did she do?" Clark asked, interested despite the horrific embarrassment.
"She, uh, was nice enough about it. Told me it was inappropriate and that I was just a kid. I tried to argue, but she was very professional." Dad shrugged. "I stopped staying after school to help her after that and avoided her in the halls whenever I saw her. She tried to talk to me a few times, but I couldn't face her."
"I didn't get nearly so far," his mother said, "but I had my fair share of inappropriate crushes, too."
Clark shook his head. "It's not the same." They would never understand.
"Why isn't it the same?" His mother took his hand and squeezed it.
No way he could tell him *where* the second kiss had happened, or what he and Grant had--or, rather, hadn't--been wearing. Even though he'd been the aggressor and Grant had, ultimately, pushed him away, he didn't want Grant to get into any trouble. So, instead, he mumbled, "It's just... I really like Grant."
"I know that," said Mom.
"No, Mom." Clark rubbed his eyes. "I mean, I *really* like Grant. Like, like him like, if there wasn't a Lex, I'd want to be with Grant. Maybe," he added hastily.
He could feel his parents exchange glances over his head. There were sighs. His dad stroked his hair, his mom caressed his neck and shoulders.
"Honey," Mom said, "you know that Grant is over thirty years old. He's much to old for you."
His face was way too hot. He squirmed again, wishing his parents didn't insist on keeping him penned in. "I know."
"You're only sixteen."
"I know, Dad! God!" He jumped up from the couch and walked across the room. Agitated, Clark tugged the sleeves of his flannel over his hands. "I'm not saying that Grant would go for it or anything. But I like him better than any other guy I've ever met besides Lex. That's all I'm saying. Okay?"
"What about Whitney?"
"Whitney caught me with my hand on Lionel's dick!" Clark shouted. "Do you think I'd *want* a relationship with someone who's seen me like that?"
Mom was off the couch in a heartbeat.
"Don't!" he yelled, pressing himself into the corner.
She stopped. "Clark, what happened today?"
He wouldn't break. He wouldn't. He wouldn't.
Clark clenched his jaw. "Lionel somehow bribed the social service people. They sent a man." His voice cracked. "They sent a man who did his hair like Lionel. Who had a beard like Lionel. Who told me that it was all my fault and.... And I told him to go back and tell Lionel to shove it, but, God, I had to sit there and look at him and hear it, you know? And I'm so, so tired, Mama. I'm so tired." Exhausted, Clark slid to the floor and pulled his knees to his chest.
"I'll call Michelle tomorrow," Martha said. Her voice quaked. Her eyes were bright.
"Mom, I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologize for."
"I..." Clark was interrupted by a sudden knock on the front door.
"I'll get it," said Jonathan. His voice was soft, soothing, like he was talking to a skittish animal or something. As he passed Martha, he squeezed her hand.
She looked at him. The expression on her face made Clark's heart squeeze. That was why he hated all this. He hated making that expression, the pain, the sorrow, the helplessness, appear on his mother's face. It was all his fault.
Jonathan opened the door. "Lex." He reached out and took Lex by the shoulder. "Are you all right?"
Clark stood and walked towards the door. Lex was standing on the porch, his skin chalky pale, the circles under his eyes standing out under the porch light. His overnight bag was slung over his shoulder, Athena in her cage clutched in his left hand. Behind him, Clark could see a suitcase.
"No," Lex said softly, looking up at Jonathan. His eyes seemed unusually bright. "No, I'm not all right."
Jonathan's hand tightened on Lex's shoulder. "What's wrong?" He took Athena's cage from Lex and handed it to Martha.
Lex swallowed. Swayed slightly on his feet. "According to my father, I'm not longer a Luthor. He's left me with nothing, not even a place to live. I mean, I have the house, but it's not ready. No water, no heat, nothing. And all my money... it's in Damien's account, and it's low and I don't have anywhere to stay. I need..."
"You'll stay with us, son," Jonathan interrupted. He rubbed Lex's arm. "Just calm down. Breathe. You're fine. You might not be a Luthor, but that doesn't mean you don't have a family here to take care of you. It'll be okay."
"Thank you." He tore his eyes from Jonathan to Clark.
Clark stepped forward, opened his arms.
Lex seemed to float into them. The bag dropped on the floor, he took one step in the house and then, he was in Clark's arms, melting.
"I'm going to talk to Damien and Dominic," Clark heard his father say.
"All right. Lex? Honey, do you want something to eat?"
"Not really. I have a headache," Lex said into Clark's chest.
"You need to eat something." She brushed her hand over Lex's scalp. "I'll just get something light. Then I'll fix up your room."
Lex just nodded.
Clark backed up until he felt the couch hit the backs of his knees. He lowered him and Lex onto it, never unwrapping letting him go. His mouth nuzzled just below Lex's ear, tasting, comforting, smelling. Making sure that Lex wasn't going to fall apart or crumble into dust.
/ I can't believe he did this, / Lex said.
/ He's an ass. He's so incredibly stupid. He just doesn't realize what a prize you are. /
/ Why do I even care? I don't want to care. It hurts. /
/ I know. / Clark kissed his temple. / I know. But it will be okay. We're together. /
/ I know. But it still hurts. /
/ Yeah, baby. I know. I know. /
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 02:25 am (UTC)Another awesome part sweetie. :-) *hugs you*
no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 05:01 pm (UTC)Thank you!!
no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 06:59 am (UTC)I really love your Martha & Jonathan Kent.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 05:01 pm (UTC)Thanks.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-16 06:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 11:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 05:02 pm (UTC)Thanks for the feedback.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 11:48 am (UTC)*hugs them both*
no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 05:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-14 06:46 pm (UTC)Clark is showing his future persona, even when he is hurting, everything falls away to comfort Lex. Great installment.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-15 03:52 pm (UTC)