![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxySoon, little ones, the third chapter will come to a close, and yer mother's a leetle nervous. This thing has grown frighteningly huge. I wonder if I will be able to finish it. I wonder if I'll lose my way in this.
I wonder if I can write Lennon/McCartney without researching English slang from the early 60's?
No, really , can I? CauseI just don't have the time. RDPS. It's so labor intensive.*sigh*
And FireBird! Don't get me started! Actually, I have a whole seperate post for that. Whatthe hell! I'm not going to work tomorrow!
The previous parts are here skipping from theater to theater 'cause the one they paid for sucks donkey--ouch.Stop.
Whitney watched Clark roll across the bed of the truck, bumping into legs and not making any effort to get free. He wondered why Clark didn’t fight back, he was strong enough. Probably more of that weird streak of cowardice—
He fingered the worry stone his pocket, rubbing over and over the bean-shaped stone, the flat side rubbed against the pad of his thumb as he contemplated Clark, the strangeness that was Clark.
Whit knew Clark loved Lex—he knew it even if Clark didn’t. Why didn’t he help him? He tightened his fist around the stone and gritted his teeth. He didn’t care that Clark was going to be hung as a scarecrow--- shit, he deserved it, the spineless fuck. And if f he was so sure of that, than why did his stomach hurt?
When Clark rolled against his legs, Whit kicked him away and Clark let out a low moan of pain. For a moment Whit’s chest tightened, but he turned away, and hardened his heart against him.
It was pitch dark by the time they reached Riley’s field, and they pointed the truck lights and the headlights from two other cars at the cross planted in the corn.
The guys pulled Clark from the truck, whooping and laughing and pushing him from hands to hands.
Whit kept back, he figured this was justice in a way, but he had no desire to torture Clark.
He smelled beer, and someone had some weed, and that struck him as being a great idea. He tried to inch back from the crowd, but he got pushed near the front of the group.
In the circle of light cast by the vehicles, he could plainly see Clark. They had him on the ground, and began to strip him.
Whit smirked--oh yeah; there was nothing gay in the slightest about this. His sharp eyes noted which hands lingered a little longer than necessary on that smooth looking tanned flesh.
He had to admit, Clark was…hot. His eyes followed the cut of muscle at his hips, a chiseled line that led to a thatch of black hair just visible over the drooping edge of his boxers. He thought of Lex, and felt a little sick and a little turned on, he gripped his worry stone tighter, flipped it a little faster between his fingers.
He felt warmth behind him, and a hand slid into his front pocket. A familiar raspy voice spoke low against his neck, and the tip of a hot tongue darted out, ran around the edge of his ear and back. Wade was insane; he loved taking chances. Whit’s jeans felt a little tighter. Taking chances like this—“Getting you hot? The boy scout all spread out like that?” The hand in his pocket squeezed him, making him get harder, and withdrew.
Whitney heard the rattle of the metal ball in a can of spray paint, and felt Wade’s arm jiggle against his side. He said a little louder, “Wanna paint the ‘S’, hmm?”
Whit moved away from him a bit and shook his head no—he avoided Clark’s eyes, fuck, they followed him like lasers, burning into him. He looked so fucking disappointed—
They tied him to the cross, and Wade handed off the spray paint to one of the other players, glancing at Whit as he did. Whit knew he passed it on because Wade thought Whit would be upset if he painted Clark. It made him feel a little better. But still, he was out here with a bunch of idiots who were yelling ‘Scarecrow’ and acting like, well, a pack of drunken teenage boys, as they strung up a guy who used to be his best friend.
Whit imagined what Red would say.
“Lord Of The Fuckin’ Flies, Whit,” and damn, how much of Red—Lex damn-it, Lex—was rubbing off on him?
Wade nudged him forward with his hips, and Whit shivered a little when he felt his erection against his ass. “Go on, say goodnight, we gotta go.”
Whit walked up to Clark, who looked worried, annoyed and-- impatient?
Not scared though. Whit called softly out to him.
“Hey! Clark—this is to remind you of Lex.” He pulled the worry stone from his jeans pocket. “ I got a little souvenir, from that night. I’ve been carrying it around, waiting to give it to you, and tonight just seemed the right time, y’know?”
The stone seemed to glow in the headlights glare as he turned it through his fingers, and Clark did look scared now, he looked ill…He tucked it into the band of Clark’s boxers, and Clark gasped, and groaned a little. Whit pulled his hand away like he’d been burned, Clark looked just like he did when Lex got burned—he backed away, backed up until he ran into Wade.
“Let’s go—I have things to do.”
Whit nodded and followed Wade, and refused to look back. In the shadows by Wade’s car, he asked him for his cell-phone. Wade looked at him and smirked, handed him the phone but stroked a finger across his knuckles and the smirk melted into a look of fond exasperation.
“Who you gonna call first, Lex or Pete?”
Whit just grinned back.
************************
Lex and Clark were walking along the edge of the road past Clark’s parents farm, and talking. The sun must have gone down without Lex noticing, the sky was dark blue and it was strangely quiet. Clark was saying something, and Lex stopped him.
“What did you say? I didn’t hear you.”
Clark turned to Lex, his face bright with an enormous smile. ”Lex! I know what I want now!”
“Oh? That’s good…Clark. I’m so happy for you. And what is it that you want?”
“You.” And he bent his head to Lex and lifted his chin. Lex’s heart pounded, oh, god, he’s going to kiss me he thought and he trembled, waiting for his lips to touch him, and than he did kiss him and his lips were so soft, and warm and he pulled back and whispered Lex’s name. Said it again, louder, and Clark’s brow creased as he frowned at him, again he said his name, loud, and began shaking his shoulder, and Lex wanted to cry, he didn’t like kissing me—
“Lex! Wake up!”
What the fuck? Pete?
Pete was leaning over Lex, shaking his shoulder and hissing,” Are you awake? Wake up, we have to help Clark!”
Lex jerked out of Pete’s grasp and snarled, “Excuse me? I must still be asleep, because you seem to think I give a fuck what happens to Clark.” He tried to pull the comforter back over his head, but Pete yanked it down.
“Look, we don’t have time for your bullshit with Clark, okay, so— Why are you dressed?” he stared down at Lex’s fully dressed including shoes form on the bed, a very puzzled expression on his face.
“ Well, at least that saves us time. Come on, let’s go.”
“I said no—“
“Look you! Bill and Abigail don’t know I ‘m out here, if they find out, I’m grounded for eternity plus, and if they find out I stole the car, I’m a greasy spot on the driveway, so shut the fuck up and let’s get Clark.”
Lex gasped in horror. “Pete, you so fucking did not take Bill’s car! He’ll kill you! What the hell is wrong with Clark?” he leaped out of bed, now really alarmed. Oh god, what was wrong with Clark?
“They strung him up in Riley’s field, and Whitney say’s he looks bad, he said to tell you it’s like that time at the factory.”
Lex was already moving to the door and stumbled when he heard that. It brought up memories he was striving so hard to forget. His hand swept over his scalp quickly before jerking his chin at Pete. “Lead the way, Mr. Criminal Master mind.”
Pete grinned sickly. “ Yeah? Pray for us both, I nearly peed myself driving over here. The most driving I’ve done is in the Wal-Mart parking lot at night, when Sam let me drive his car.”
Oh fuck, Lex thought I’m going to die, and I’ve never even had sex yet.
TBC, (tap-dance, tap-dance)
I wonder if I can write Lennon/McCartney without researching English slang from the early 60's?
No, really , can I? CauseI just don't have the time. RDPS. It's so labor intensive.*sigh*
And FireBird! Don't get me started! Actually, I have a whole seperate post for that. Whatthe hell! I'm not going to work tomorrow!
The previous parts are here skipping from theater to theater 'cause the one they paid for sucks donkey--ouch.Stop.
Whitney watched Clark roll across the bed of the truck, bumping into legs and not making any effort to get free. He wondered why Clark didn’t fight back, he was strong enough. Probably more of that weird streak of cowardice—
He fingered the worry stone his pocket, rubbing over and over the bean-shaped stone, the flat side rubbed against the pad of his thumb as he contemplated Clark, the strangeness that was Clark.
Whit knew Clark loved Lex—he knew it even if Clark didn’t. Why didn’t he help him? He tightened his fist around the stone and gritted his teeth. He didn’t care that Clark was going to be hung as a scarecrow--- shit, he deserved it, the spineless fuck. And if f he was so sure of that, than why did his stomach hurt?
When Clark rolled against his legs, Whit kicked him away and Clark let out a low moan of pain. For a moment Whit’s chest tightened, but he turned away, and hardened his heart against him.
It was pitch dark by the time they reached Riley’s field, and they pointed the truck lights and the headlights from two other cars at the cross planted in the corn.
The guys pulled Clark from the truck, whooping and laughing and pushing him from hands to hands.
Whit kept back, he figured this was justice in a way, but he had no desire to torture Clark.
He smelled beer, and someone had some weed, and that struck him as being a great idea. He tried to inch back from the crowd, but he got pushed near the front of the group.
In the circle of light cast by the vehicles, he could plainly see Clark. They had him on the ground, and began to strip him.
Whit smirked--oh yeah; there was nothing gay in the slightest about this. His sharp eyes noted which hands lingered a little longer than necessary on that smooth looking tanned flesh.
He had to admit, Clark was…hot. His eyes followed the cut of muscle at his hips, a chiseled line that led to a thatch of black hair just visible over the drooping edge of his boxers. He thought of Lex, and felt a little sick and a little turned on, he gripped his worry stone tighter, flipped it a little faster between his fingers.
He felt warmth behind him, and a hand slid into his front pocket. A familiar raspy voice spoke low against his neck, and the tip of a hot tongue darted out, ran around the edge of his ear and back. Wade was insane; he loved taking chances. Whit’s jeans felt a little tighter. Taking chances like this—“Getting you hot? The boy scout all spread out like that?” The hand in his pocket squeezed him, making him get harder, and withdrew.
Whitney heard the rattle of the metal ball in a can of spray paint, and felt Wade’s arm jiggle against his side. He said a little louder, “Wanna paint the ‘S’, hmm?”
Whit moved away from him a bit and shook his head no—he avoided Clark’s eyes, fuck, they followed him like lasers, burning into him. He looked so fucking disappointed—
They tied him to the cross, and Wade handed off the spray paint to one of the other players, glancing at Whit as he did. Whit knew he passed it on because Wade thought Whit would be upset if he painted Clark. It made him feel a little better. But still, he was out here with a bunch of idiots who were yelling ‘Scarecrow’ and acting like, well, a pack of drunken teenage boys, as they strung up a guy who used to be his best friend.
Whit imagined what Red would say.
“Lord Of The Fuckin’ Flies, Whit,” and damn, how much of Red—Lex damn-it, Lex—was rubbing off on him?
Wade nudged him forward with his hips, and Whit shivered a little when he felt his erection against his ass. “Go on, say goodnight, we gotta go.”
Whit walked up to Clark, who looked worried, annoyed and-- impatient?
Not scared though. Whit called softly out to him.
“Hey! Clark—this is to remind you of Lex.” He pulled the worry stone from his jeans pocket. “ I got a little souvenir, from that night. I’ve been carrying it around, waiting to give it to you, and tonight just seemed the right time, y’know?”
The stone seemed to glow in the headlights glare as he turned it through his fingers, and Clark did look scared now, he looked ill…He tucked it into the band of Clark’s boxers, and Clark gasped, and groaned a little. Whit pulled his hand away like he’d been burned, Clark looked just like he did when Lex got burned—he backed away, backed up until he ran into Wade.
“Let’s go—I have things to do.”
Whit nodded and followed Wade, and refused to look back. In the shadows by Wade’s car, he asked him for his cell-phone. Wade looked at him and smirked, handed him the phone but stroked a finger across his knuckles and the smirk melted into a look of fond exasperation.
“Who you gonna call first, Lex or Pete?”
Whit just grinned back.
************************
Lex and Clark were walking along the edge of the road past Clark’s parents farm, and talking. The sun must have gone down without Lex noticing, the sky was dark blue and it was strangely quiet. Clark was saying something, and Lex stopped him.
“What did you say? I didn’t hear you.”
Clark turned to Lex, his face bright with an enormous smile. ”Lex! I know what I want now!”
“Oh? That’s good…Clark. I’m so happy for you. And what is it that you want?”
“You.” And he bent his head to Lex and lifted his chin. Lex’s heart pounded, oh, god, he’s going to kiss me he thought and he trembled, waiting for his lips to touch him, and than he did kiss him and his lips were so soft, and warm and he pulled back and whispered Lex’s name. Said it again, louder, and Clark’s brow creased as he frowned at him, again he said his name, loud, and began shaking his shoulder, and Lex wanted to cry, he didn’t like kissing me—
“Lex! Wake up!”
What the fuck? Pete?
Pete was leaning over Lex, shaking his shoulder and hissing,” Are you awake? Wake up, we have to help Clark!”
Lex jerked out of Pete’s grasp and snarled, “Excuse me? I must still be asleep, because you seem to think I give a fuck what happens to Clark.” He tried to pull the comforter back over his head, but Pete yanked it down.
“Look, we don’t have time for your bullshit with Clark, okay, so— Why are you dressed?” he stared down at Lex’s fully dressed including shoes form on the bed, a very puzzled expression on his face.
“ Well, at least that saves us time. Come on, let’s go.”
“I said no—“
“Look you! Bill and Abigail don’t know I ‘m out here, if they find out, I’m grounded for eternity plus, and if they find out I stole the car, I’m a greasy spot on the driveway, so shut the fuck up and let’s get Clark.”
Lex gasped in horror. “Pete, you so fucking did not take Bill’s car! He’ll kill you! What the hell is wrong with Clark?” he leaped out of bed, now really alarmed. Oh god, what was wrong with Clark?
“They strung him up in Riley’s field, and Whitney say’s he looks bad, he said to tell you it’s like that time at the factory.”
Lex was already moving to the door and stumbled when he heard that. It brought up memories he was striving so hard to forget. His hand swept over his scalp quickly before jerking his chin at Pete. “Lead the way, Mr. Criminal Master mind.”
Pete grinned sickly. “ Yeah? Pray for us both, I nearly peed myself driving over here. The most driving I’ve done is in the Wal-Mart parking lot at night, when Sam let me drive his car.”
Oh fuck, Lex thought I’m going to die, and I’ve never even had sex yet.
TBC, (tap-dance, tap-dance)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
10/22/04 05:37 am (UTC)I'm sure Clark will help him with that ;)
(no subject)
10/22/04 06:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/22/04 05:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/22/04 06:05 am (UTC)Same song *g*
10/22/04 06:04 am (UTC)*hugs*
Re: Same song *g*
10/22/04 06:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/22/04 06:21 am (UTC)At least he called, but...
Gah!!
All the bois, they're just so....twisted up!
But they're coming to the rescue, they haven't forgotten YET...
*sniffle*
*hugs you*
I love it.
(no subject)
10/22/04 06:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/22/04 07:04 am (UTC)Love is all you need and such.
Yes.
*bounce*
(no subject)
10/22/04 06:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/22/04 07:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/22/04 07:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/22/04 07:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/22/04 07:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/22/04 07:38 am (UTC)If Lex wants to earn some pocket money that daddy Luthor doesn't know about then you can send him over too.
(no subject)
10/22/04 07:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/22/04 07:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/22/04 08:07 am (UTC)*giggle*
(no subject)
10/22/04 08:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/22/04 09:43 am (UTC)We need to make sure you get your money's worth.
*kiss*
(no subject)
10/22/04 07:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/22/04 08:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/22/04 08:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
10/22/04 09:44 am (UTC)Perhaps we could make Clark help too.
(no subject)
10/22/04 06:51 am (UTC)I hope Lex realises that Clark really couldn't help him, and they make up. (just curious, how old are they here?)
(no subject)
10/22/04 07:17 am (UTC)In my little corner of the world, Lana, Whit and Lex are fifteen, and Clark and Pete are fourteen.I'm really skirting the edge here, hence so much UST.
you know Whit called Pete to come and get Clark down, he had no intention of letting him hang out there all night. He's just really pissed at Clark for Lex's sake.
(no subject)
10/22/04 12:47 pm (UTC)These past two sections have been fan-freaking-tastic! I adore the way you are taking the time to show us how Lex is dealing with the loss of his hair. He's so angry, the poor guy!! And the continued rift between Whit, Lex and Clark? Perfect in it's hurty UST! I've also come to adore our little confused Whit narrator. He's got so much on his plate already, but he's trying to look out for Lex and Clark, too! *snuggles*
Roxy, you rock!
*Kisses!*
(no subject)
10/22/04 04:54 pm (UTC)Thank you baby-doll!