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Summer Story part 3/7
And here we have Tiny Smallville for those of you who like it--I'd make more fun of it, but my brains are mad at me, apparently. They're rumbling around in my head like sumo wrestlers on PCP. I feel reeely crappy.*snif*
So, anyway, here you are , be kind to my babes.
“Damn. This is your room?” Whit looked around at the huge space. Lex had a queen-sized bed, and a couch, and bookcases from floor to ceiling, and his own bathroom! He shook his head. Yeah. Rich. He walked over and looked into his closet, it was the size of his whole room at home.
Lex tossed him a pair of sweat pants, and a towel. “Go, shower you need it, and use the deodorant in there, too.”
Whitney flipped him off as he passed him on the way to the bathroom. He had to stop once he got in and admire the luxury of the space. The shower was unbelievably huge. He messed about trying to figure out how the plumbing worked exactly, and finally got it to work. He was grateful to Lex for letting him in. It had really been a crappy couple of days. And here he was, not even talking to Lex for more than a few hours after not speaking for years, and Lex. Lex was taking care of him again. He felt his face flush, his eyes prickled for a moment before he cursed himself for acting like an idiot. That kind of stuff didn’t get you through the day.
*****
Clark wanted to see Lex. It was so unfair of his father not to let him go. He wondered if Whit was in the barn, he’d heard about what happened at the Wal-Mart. He sighed and folded his arms behind his head. Did Whit really think that they didn’t know what was going on, did he think he was so clueless that he could miss the bruises and the fact that he knew he slept in the barn sometimes? It was weird, as if something somewhere took a wrong turn. It wasn’t like this when Whit was a little kid. He remembered Whit and his dad tossing footballs in the park—true, that hadn’t happened since he was in fourth grade maybe. But it was different, and then things changed and Whit got harder and harder and his dad didn’t come around anymore, spent all his time in the store and you’d think Whit would have nicer stuff, that they’d have some money. It was like Whit was being raised by strangers who didn’t care that much about him—Clark shifted onto his side and thought how grateful he was for his mom and dad. If he could have chosen parents, he would have chosen them. His dad—sure he could be annoying some time. Like tonight. But mostly he was a good guy. Clark sat up. Which is why he was going to feel really bad, in a minute or two. Clark stood and pulled his jeans and sweatshirt on, found his sneaks under his bed, and tried not to think about his parents and how truly pissed off they’d be if they found out he went to Red’s which was what he was going to do right now, he thought as he tied his laces.
He left the house quietly as he could be and walked swiftly out to the end of the drive. He turned into the direction of the castle, stopped and took a deep breath, a breath of anticipation, growing exhilaration—he stared trotting, then running lightly, the wind just moving his hair, than running, faster, things beginning to blur, wind pulling at him, running faster, the wind building to a screech and clawing at his clothes and then—silence… silence, icy and crystalline, everything around him floated past in slow motion. It wasn’t as cool at night; he loved seeing the slow dance of everything around him when he ran super, super fast. He grinned to himself in his private slice of the world, he should be at Red’s in minutes.
He slammed to a stop behind the castle, a little out of breath but euphoric and jittering with the thought of seeing Lex again. He ran up to the back of the house, and looked for the window he knew was Lex’s. There was a glow of light behind the curtains and he felt good—Red was still up! Perfect. He bent down to grab a few pieces of gravel in the grass and drew back his arm to toss a piece at the window when the curtain moved back and Whitney was at the window. Clark faltered, his arm dropping, what the heck was Whit doing there? He backed up out of the square of light on the lawn, into the shadows of the shrubs and felt crushed. He heard, saw Whit laugh and spit out of the window, and thought, did he invite him; did he call Whit and not me, his best friend? For a moment life sucked so bad, and then rational thought hit him—of course not. Whit probably did the same thing Clark did—couldn’t wait so snuck out to see him. More likely, Whit had no other place to go besides the barn, so came here instead. Clark knew Red was a sucker for Whit…oh well. Let them catch up on stuff; Whit’s having a bad week anyway. Maybe Red can help him out.
He decided to come back in the afternoon, or maybe right after he did his chores. Good to know that Whit had another person to look out for him too. In typical Clark fashion, he forgave his friends for something they weren’t even aware of, took his hurt and let it blow away as he raced back home.
tbc
So, anyway, here you are , be kind to my babes.
“Damn. This is your room?” Whit looked around at the huge space. Lex had a queen-sized bed, and a couch, and bookcases from floor to ceiling, and his own bathroom! He shook his head. Yeah. Rich. He walked over and looked into his closet, it was the size of his whole room at home.
Lex tossed him a pair of sweat pants, and a towel. “Go, shower you need it, and use the deodorant in there, too.”
Whitney flipped him off as he passed him on the way to the bathroom. He had to stop once he got in and admire the luxury of the space. The shower was unbelievably huge. He messed about trying to figure out how the plumbing worked exactly, and finally got it to work. He was grateful to Lex for letting him in. It had really been a crappy couple of days. And here he was, not even talking to Lex for more than a few hours after not speaking for years, and Lex. Lex was taking care of him again. He felt his face flush, his eyes prickled for a moment before he cursed himself for acting like an idiot. That kind of stuff didn’t get you through the day.
*****
Clark wanted to see Lex. It was so unfair of his father not to let him go. He wondered if Whit was in the barn, he’d heard about what happened at the Wal-Mart. He sighed and folded his arms behind his head. Did Whit really think that they didn’t know what was going on, did he think he was so clueless that he could miss the bruises and the fact that he knew he slept in the barn sometimes? It was weird, as if something somewhere took a wrong turn. It wasn’t like this when Whit was a little kid. He remembered Whit and his dad tossing footballs in the park—true, that hadn’t happened since he was in fourth grade maybe. But it was different, and then things changed and Whit got harder and harder and his dad didn’t come around anymore, spent all his time in the store and you’d think Whit would have nicer stuff, that they’d have some money. It was like Whit was being raised by strangers who didn’t care that much about him—Clark shifted onto his side and thought how grateful he was for his mom and dad. If he could have chosen parents, he would have chosen them. His dad—sure he could be annoying some time. Like tonight. But mostly he was a good guy. Clark sat up. Which is why he was going to feel really bad, in a minute or two. Clark stood and pulled his jeans and sweatshirt on, found his sneaks under his bed, and tried not to think about his parents and how truly pissed off they’d be if they found out he went to Red’s which was what he was going to do right now, he thought as he tied his laces.
He left the house quietly as he could be and walked swiftly out to the end of the drive. He turned into the direction of the castle, stopped and took a deep breath, a breath of anticipation, growing exhilaration—he stared trotting, then running lightly, the wind just moving his hair, than running, faster, things beginning to blur, wind pulling at him, running faster, the wind building to a screech and clawing at his clothes and then—silence… silence, icy and crystalline, everything around him floated past in slow motion. It wasn’t as cool at night; he loved seeing the slow dance of everything around him when he ran super, super fast. He grinned to himself in his private slice of the world, he should be at Red’s in minutes.
He slammed to a stop behind the castle, a little out of breath but euphoric and jittering with the thought of seeing Lex again. He ran up to the back of the house, and looked for the window he knew was Lex’s. There was a glow of light behind the curtains and he felt good—Red was still up! Perfect. He bent down to grab a few pieces of gravel in the grass and drew back his arm to toss a piece at the window when the curtain moved back and Whitney was at the window. Clark faltered, his arm dropping, what the heck was Whit doing there? He backed up out of the square of light on the lawn, into the shadows of the shrubs and felt crushed. He heard, saw Whit laugh and spit out of the window, and thought, did he invite him; did he call Whit and not me, his best friend? For a moment life sucked so bad, and then rational thought hit him—of course not. Whit probably did the same thing Clark did—couldn’t wait so snuck out to see him. More likely, Whit had no other place to go besides the barn, so came here instead. Clark knew Red was a sucker for Whit…oh well. Let them catch up on stuff; Whit’s having a bad week anyway. Maybe Red can help him out.
He decided to come back in the afternoon, or maybe right after he did his chores. Good to know that Whit had another person to look out for him too. In typical Clark fashion, he forgave his friends for something they weren’t even aware of, took his hurt and let it blow away as he raced back home.
tbc
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*secretly loves it*