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Summer Story part 9
Ahhhhh! Feels good! Block broken, I like this part-- finally. It was touch and go for a while, cousins. I thought I'd wear that club out. Any way, this is what happened.
After listening to wise and sage advice from folks who are more experienced and much better writers than I am... I decided to let the boys choose and they chose this and I'm comfortable with that decision. which doesn't mean that I haven't written myself into the old box canyon again, (yee-haw!) but what the fuck! Come on! Ya'll know you love reading my latest nervous breakdown--or maybe I should have a journal just for my fic writing meltdowns...
Hey, completely OT, don't you just love Eminem? he's such a sick little fuck!
Wow. You don't have to go through all this shit to get to the fic in other folks journal's, hunh? (tcha-yeah! Like you're reading this! *snorf!*) In my defense, it's 6:30 am, and I haven't been to bed yet.
Enough crap! Fic!
The Previous Parts are here, wishing to christ the old broad would just shut the hell up and get to the porn.
Summer Story
It had been a long day, a good day. From the moment he’d gotten into the truck with Clark till now, it had been one of those special kinds of day. From horrible to—to great, wonderful.
It was nice too, to spend some time with Mr. Kent. It’d been a real long time since they’d talked and he’d missed it.
Seemed like Mr. Kent did too. ‘Red, you need to come around more often, Martha misses you, you probably figured that out by the amount of food she tried to pack you with.’ he’d said and squeezed his shoulder. He’d been super nice, come to think of it—full of advice about college and life and for a horrible moment Lex had thought he was about to get a lecture on the birds and the bees until Clark interrupted them to take Lex back home. Mr. Kent had even seemed to …blush a bit and told them to go off and have a good time. And looked at Lex—oh. No. No. Absolutely not.
The man had no idea. He couldn’t. He looked sideways at Clark.
Could he?
“Lex—if you don’t mind, I want to stop somewhere before I drop you off?”
Lex agreed and a short time later they were parked a little distance from the road that took them to the pond they used to spend so much time at when they were kids. Clark grinned at Lex’s look of surprise and hopped out of the truck, heading off for the pond without waiting for Lex.
In minutes they were standing by the edge of the little pond.
Lex looked around amazed by how nothing seemed to have changed in the years gone past. Of course, per cliché, it was a little smaller than he remembered.
Memories. Wonderful things, memories. He smiled faintly, and remembered playing with Pete in the mud here, building forts and drowning ninja turtles and talking about life as they understood it then, talking to Whit about love and death and where they were headed here, crying alone here, reading comics with Clark and falling in love here—it was amazing how much life one place could hold, how many secrets and how many stories it could keep.
Clark sat in the grass and leaned back on his elbows, smiling as he watched the setting sun. Lex watched him, gold and bronze and ruby washing over him as the sun slowly set, and when it was almost gone, Clark turned to him and said, “You know—I can’t believe how many of the happy times in my life revolve around you. Whenever I think—oh, that was a good time, we had fun then-- there you are smiling at me. Lex…why do you let some people call you Red and not others?”
Lex gaped at Clark a minute, startled by the abrupt change of topic. There he goes again. Questions out of left field that you’re not prepared to answer. If it weren’t Clark, he’d think it was a psychological ploy that would do Lionel proud. But it was Clark, it was just his bizarre way of thinking. Non- linear in the extreme, he thought fondly.
“There aren’t others, Clark, just Whit and …your dad.”
“Oh. Why?”
Lex pulled a long strand of grass up and nipped it between he teeth, savoring the sharp nutty… *green* taste of it as Clark did the same.
“Because your dad”-- I wish he were my dad. --” just does”--. just like he would if he *were* my dad. He would always have loved me and called me Red and still would because I’d never change in his eyes…--I haven’t changed for him. Or for Whit — I’m still me." Still the same in their eyes, true or not. He wound down into silence, wrapping and unwrapping his finger in the strand of grass.
Clark frowned, “But you don’t care that I call you Lex? Because you haven’t changed to me either, nothing has changed how…you know, how we’re friends.”
“Clark. You never liked calling me Red” Lex smiled. “You always wanted to call me Lex. I never stopped you. I liked hearing you call me Lex.” He shrugged. “And then I got so angry about losing my hair--“
Clark made a soft sad noise and Lex patted his arm. “I don’t blame you Clark- you would have helped me if you could, I truly believe that now. I can look at you, and see that’s true.”
Clark looked down and pinked. “I’d do anything for you Lex.” He looked up at him and the honesty that shone out of his eyes pierced him through. Yes, he did believe that Clark would do anything for him and it was a little …frightening. To be the object of that and not even to have earned it.
Clark reached out his hand, and laid it on Lex’s arm. “Hey, are you okay? I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable bringing up all that stuff. Sometimes my mouth kind of takes off before my brain knows it’s open. My mouth I mean.”
He gave Lex another big blinding smile, and Lex’s hands twitched as he fought to keep them down on his knees, told himself not to think about Clark’s lips, and his green eyes and his strong neck tilted back as he grinned up at the sky with his eyes narrowed and inhaled deeply.
“Umm. Don’t you love the smell of night?” he laughed and closed his eyes completely. "I mean not night, you know—the smell of grass and the ground, flowers and stuff. It’s like in the day you can’t smell it but when it gets dark, you can concentrate because there’s not all this stuff trying to get your attention…”
Lex leaned closer and sniffed. Yes, he smelled grass and flowers, and cotton and soap, he smelled shampoo and he smelled Clark, under all those other smells was the smell of Clark, and he closed his eyes too, tried to memorize the smell-- the feel of the night.
It was still hot, and the air sat on him, nothing moved, no breeze stirred the air. It felt like the night was waiting for something, some sign or movement and then it would move on, taking this frozen moment with it.
He sighed and thought he’d been very quiet but Clark turned to him.
“Are you okay Lex? We can go whenever you want—I just though you might like visiting this place again--"
“Please shut up Clark.”
Clark started. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you mad or anything.” He started to get up and Lex reached out and grabbed the hem of his shirt.
“Hey, sit Clark, I’m fine, better than.” He smiled at him and his knuckles slid up Clark’s side as he sat down.
He was shocked at what that tiny contact did to him, for a moment his breath really did catch in his throat and Clark said, “Oh shit,” and gently but firmly pushed him flat and...kissed him.
Kissed him and kissed him and he kissed him and still tried to talk, tell him something, to apologize.
"I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered over and over and Lex wanted to ask sorry for what but if he did Clark would stop kissing him and he couldn’t stand the thought.
He would never ever forget this feeling, he’d never be able to smell Tide again and not get a hard-on, and he’d never feel grass against his bare back without wanting to cry. He’d never be able to sit out on a summer night again and not feel his soul flare.
God. Happy?
Happy didn’t begin to describe the feeling—happy wasn’t even in the neighborhood.
Clark sniffed against him and he felt something warm and wet roll down his neck. "Lex, Lex…why did you let me wait so long to know how much I love you—why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
All his plans to make Clark crawl to him and beg him to love him, any last shred of hurt or wounded pride drained away, and he rocked Clark in his arms. He kissed the sweat dampened hair and wet cheek, spoke softly, lovingly into his ear. "Because, Clark…you’re stupid.”
It felt so good to feel Clark’s laughter against his chest.
tbc
After listening to wise and sage advice from folks who are more experienced and much better writers than I am... I decided to let the boys choose and they chose this and I'm comfortable with that decision. which doesn't mean that I haven't written myself into the old box canyon again, (yee-haw!) but what the fuck! Come on! Ya'll know you love reading my latest nervous breakdown--or maybe I should have a journal just for my fic writing meltdowns...
Hey, completely OT, don't you just love Eminem? he's such a sick little fuck!
Wow. You don't have to go through all this shit to get to the fic in other folks journal's, hunh? (tcha-yeah! Like you're reading this! *snorf!*) In my defense, it's 6:30 am, and I haven't been to bed yet.
Enough crap! Fic!
The Previous Parts are here, wishing to christ the old broad would just shut the hell up and get to the porn.
Summer Story
It had been a long day, a good day. From the moment he’d gotten into the truck with Clark till now, it had been one of those special kinds of day. From horrible to—to great, wonderful.
It was nice too, to spend some time with Mr. Kent. It’d been a real long time since they’d talked and he’d missed it.
Seemed like Mr. Kent did too. ‘Red, you need to come around more often, Martha misses you, you probably figured that out by the amount of food she tried to pack you with.’ he’d said and squeezed his shoulder. He’d been super nice, come to think of it—full of advice about college and life and for a horrible moment Lex had thought he was about to get a lecture on the birds and the bees until Clark interrupted them to take Lex back home. Mr. Kent had even seemed to …blush a bit and told them to go off and have a good time. And looked at Lex—oh. No. No. Absolutely not.
The man had no idea. He couldn’t. He looked sideways at Clark.
Could he?
“Lex—if you don’t mind, I want to stop somewhere before I drop you off?”
Lex agreed and a short time later they were parked a little distance from the road that took them to the pond they used to spend so much time at when they were kids. Clark grinned at Lex’s look of surprise and hopped out of the truck, heading off for the pond without waiting for Lex.
In minutes they were standing by the edge of the little pond.
Lex looked around amazed by how nothing seemed to have changed in the years gone past. Of course, per cliché, it was a little smaller than he remembered.
Memories. Wonderful things, memories. He smiled faintly, and remembered playing with Pete in the mud here, building forts and drowning ninja turtles and talking about life as they understood it then, talking to Whit about love and death and where they were headed here, crying alone here, reading comics with Clark and falling in love here—it was amazing how much life one place could hold, how many secrets and how many stories it could keep.
Clark sat in the grass and leaned back on his elbows, smiling as he watched the setting sun. Lex watched him, gold and bronze and ruby washing over him as the sun slowly set, and when it was almost gone, Clark turned to him and said, “You know—I can’t believe how many of the happy times in my life revolve around you. Whenever I think—oh, that was a good time, we had fun then-- there you are smiling at me. Lex…why do you let some people call you Red and not others?”
Lex gaped at Clark a minute, startled by the abrupt change of topic. There he goes again. Questions out of left field that you’re not prepared to answer. If it weren’t Clark, he’d think it was a psychological ploy that would do Lionel proud. But it was Clark, it was just his bizarre way of thinking. Non- linear in the extreme, he thought fondly.
“There aren’t others, Clark, just Whit and …your dad.”
“Oh. Why?”
Lex pulled a long strand of grass up and nipped it between he teeth, savoring the sharp nutty… *green* taste of it as Clark did the same.
“Because your dad”-- I wish he were my dad. --” just does”--. just like he would if he *were* my dad. He would always have loved me and called me Red and still would because I’d never change in his eyes…--I haven’t changed for him. Or for Whit — I’m still me." Still the same in their eyes, true or not. He wound down into silence, wrapping and unwrapping his finger in the strand of grass.
Clark frowned, “But you don’t care that I call you Lex? Because you haven’t changed to me either, nothing has changed how…you know, how we’re friends.”
“Clark. You never liked calling me Red” Lex smiled. “You always wanted to call me Lex. I never stopped you. I liked hearing you call me Lex.” He shrugged. “And then I got so angry about losing my hair--“
Clark made a soft sad noise and Lex patted his arm. “I don’t blame you Clark- you would have helped me if you could, I truly believe that now. I can look at you, and see that’s true.”
Clark looked down and pinked. “I’d do anything for you Lex.” He looked up at him and the honesty that shone out of his eyes pierced him through. Yes, he did believe that Clark would do anything for him and it was a little …frightening. To be the object of that and not even to have earned it.
Clark reached out his hand, and laid it on Lex’s arm. “Hey, are you okay? I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable bringing up all that stuff. Sometimes my mouth kind of takes off before my brain knows it’s open. My mouth I mean.”
He gave Lex another big blinding smile, and Lex’s hands twitched as he fought to keep them down on his knees, told himself not to think about Clark’s lips, and his green eyes and his strong neck tilted back as he grinned up at the sky with his eyes narrowed and inhaled deeply.
“Umm. Don’t you love the smell of night?” he laughed and closed his eyes completely. "I mean not night, you know—the smell of grass and the ground, flowers and stuff. It’s like in the day you can’t smell it but when it gets dark, you can concentrate because there’s not all this stuff trying to get your attention…”
Lex leaned closer and sniffed. Yes, he smelled grass and flowers, and cotton and soap, he smelled shampoo and he smelled Clark, under all those other smells was the smell of Clark, and he closed his eyes too, tried to memorize the smell-- the feel of the night.
It was still hot, and the air sat on him, nothing moved, no breeze stirred the air. It felt like the night was waiting for something, some sign or movement and then it would move on, taking this frozen moment with it.
He sighed and thought he’d been very quiet but Clark turned to him.
“Are you okay Lex? We can go whenever you want—I just though you might like visiting this place again--"
“Please shut up Clark.”
Clark started. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you mad or anything.” He started to get up and Lex reached out and grabbed the hem of his shirt.
“Hey, sit Clark, I’m fine, better than.” He smiled at him and his knuckles slid up Clark’s side as he sat down.
He was shocked at what that tiny contact did to him, for a moment his breath really did catch in his throat and Clark said, “Oh shit,” and gently but firmly pushed him flat and...kissed him.
Kissed him and kissed him and he kissed him and still tried to talk, tell him something, to apologize.
"I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he muttered over and over and Lex wanted to ask sorry for what but if he did Clark would stop kissing him and he couldn’t stand the thought.
He would never ever forget this feeling, he’d never be able to smell Tide again and not get a hard-on, and he’d never feel grass against his bare back without wanting to cry. He’d never be able to sit out on a summer night again and not feel his soul flare.
God. Happy?
Happy didn’t begin to describe the feeling—happy wasn’t even in the neighborhood.
Clark sniffed against him and he felt something warm and wet roll down his neck. "Lex, Lex…why did you let me wait so long to know how much I love you—why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
All his plans to make Clark crawl to him and beg him to love him, any last shred of hurt or wounded pride drained away, and he rocked Clark in his arms. He kissed the sweat dampened hair and wet cheek, spoke softly, lovingly into his ear. "Because, Clark…you’re stupid.”
It felt so good to feel Clark’s laughter against his chest.
tbc
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Also, doofusClark! love him so. Love this moment, love the way you described the smell of the place, because at times, that is how I see the world.
Lex and Clark sitting in a tree. K I S S I N G!
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Yeah, it's amazing how big a part scent plays in our lives. I'm a big sniffy type of person too.
I'm so glad you liked this part,whew!
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I love how you decribr the mood and stuff. Although I'm getting a bit confused with all the character scenery jumping..mmmm
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ah-haa--ummm, I'll fix it all in the final? I know the cuts are a bit abrupt but just hang in there with me, and of course, I'm available at all times for explanations and juggling.
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*kisses*
{{{hugsyoutight}}}
8^D
Re: *kisses*
Naaaw! Kidding! *smooch*
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"Because, Clark…you’re stupid.”
Hee!!!
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"Lex, Lex…why did you let me wait so long to know how much I love you—why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
:wibbles:
:in a good way:
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*packs up sets strikes lights sends everyone home*
Taxi!!!!
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Ack!!! My new subtitle!!!! YaY!
See, I can do more than torture...heee!
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Love the night and the smells of the grass and the flowers, yeah, love the happy memories that are all tangled up with Lex...
Poor Lex, wanting Pa Kent for his father, yeah...
Oh, you let 'em be together, at least for now!!
*is skeered for Whit*
You're so good!! This story is just amazing, I love it to death. :)
*i read all your break-down babble, honey*
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Now, what kind of monster would I be if I broke them up again? Tsk!
And thank you for your really kind words!Your praise means so much to me, StarGirl! *kisshuggle*
Say, and thanks for reading the insanity! Good to know someone's keeping tabs on me! *snorf*
Love you!
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*whimpers*
Yersssss, i got my EYE on you!
*BWAAAAAahahahhaha*
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Which one of you said that?
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Yay! I love this part (but you knew I would). *snuggles*
It's so warm and sweet and perfect.
Tell me more!!!!!
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