![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyTitle:Mariposa
Fandom: SV
Pairing: n/a—yet.
Rating: 1
Summary: This is the land of AU-ness. Long live AU’s!
Previous Parts are here, sucking back daiquiris and thinking about boys…or is that thinking about daiquiris and…
Eighth Grade
Clark was still a little stunned. More than a little. The new girl…wow. She was…different. Big city different, he guessed. Maybe they were all like that in the city. His head still whirled a bit. This—what happened wasn’t exactly what he thought would happen. He’d been ‘volunteered’ to show her around and she’d been like a whirlwind, not shy at all.
That girl was a little blonde tornado—all over the place, all flying hands, all non-stop talking…he grinned. She’d taken that “show me around” thing seriously too. After school she’d dragged him right downtown, and they’d searched the News Rack for a Daily Planet. She acted like she’d been hijacked to Mars instead of the country--poor Chloe Sullivan, cast away on an alien planet, lost in the untamed wilds of Smallville. He snickered, thinking about how excited she’d been when they’d actually found The Daily Planet. Her lifeline to ‘Civilization’.
And then—holy crap, when she’d found out he lived on a farm, that was the topper. She’d even demanded to know why he had zippers on his clothes. And, okay, that was really strange. It took him a while to figure out what the heck she’d been getting at…zippers. Clark leaned back on the little army cot he’d shoved up into the loft, and laughed. Her face when she’d seen Dad on the new tractor, and Mom using the food processor. She’d been absolutely scandalized! He giggled even harder.
Amish! She’d thought anyone who lived and worked on a farm had to be Amish. Gosh, where did the people in the city think their food came from? Clark’s giggles slowly stopped, and he grinned. Buddy shoved him off the cot, so he lay on the floor and thought about the other weird thing that happened.
She’d kissed him. And not a peck on the cheek. A *kiss* kiss. A big deep kiss that wow—he felt to his toes, and then said, “I know you've been thinking about that all day, so I figured we'd get it out of the way and be friends.” And after the kiss, she just went on yakking until her dad came to pick her up. Mr. Sullivan was nice in a trying just a wee bit too hard kind of way. Kind of nice looking too…and his daughter just might have proved what he’s been thinking about himself all along.
He was pretty sure what he felt about some—guys-- was what he probably should be feeling for Chloe. He licked his lips, still tasting her strawberry flavored lip-gloss. He could feel it still, kind of slick and greasy on his lips. He walked over to the porthole shaped mirror hanging on one of the wall studs. In fact, he could still see it. It made his lips look…shiny. Nice. He licked at the remnants of gloss, and a slow shiver tickled low in his belly. He thought of Pete touching the gloss, and the tickle turned into a swift jab. He winced, but not because it hurt….
******
Clark kept looking at Pete, and it made him uncomfortable. He was supposed to be looking at his date—a girl that Pete had gone to a lot of trouble to set Clark up with. No one should be at the Founders Day dance without a date---this was almost like the eighth grade prom. And what was Clark doing? Giving him the evil eye from across the dance floor. Pete had no damn idea what was wrong with Clark, what he’s done to piss him off like that, but it was kind of putting a crimp in his moves.
Or not-- Angela kept pulling him out to the dance floor, and she was dancing really close, and the chaperones weren’t looking. It felt good when she dragged him, it felt good when she pulled him back into her whenever he pulled back a little—he had a boner.
He thought that he was gonna to die of embarrassment, and then he thought he was gonna die from really, really good luck. Boy…
He was breathing harder and harder and his face felt like it was going to explode and when she finally let him walk off the dance floor—when he *had* to walk off the dance floor, he was yanking his shirt down ‘til it hit his knees. Whoo. He was grinning, he felt like he was on top of the world; he was definitely going to call her later. He felt the paper with her number scrawled on it shoved deep in his pocket. He adjusted himself a little and then—Clark was towering over him, and his lips were pushed out, and his cheeks were really red.
“What’s up, Cee?” He looked pissed, Pete thought—maybe his date was not exactly what he wanted it to be.
“I’m tired. I want to go home.”
Pete decided not to argue. Clark really looked stressed. Really stressed. “Okay. Let me call my mom.”
Clark looked a little relieved at that, and they left the dance.
Outside, the cool air made Pete zip up his jacket, and Clark shivered and buttoned his jacket, the collar pulled up around his neck. He shuffled back and forth, he squirmed and coughed until Pete asked, “What the hell is wrong, Cee? You’re jumping around like something crawled up your ass.”
Clark burst out in a high pitched yip of a laugh, and looked stunned at the sound that came out of his mouth. Pete laughed harder. “You really are a mess. What’s going on in that big empty space between your ears?”
“Ah. Pete. Pete…I have a problem.”
Pete nodded. “Okay. So—tell me.”
“I like you. A lot. A lot. A--”
“Yo, Cee…you’re stuck. And I don’t think I heard right because it seems like you said--”
Clark quickly cut in. “Nothing, I didn’t say anything—look, it’s your mom’s car!” He frantically waved at the mini van swerving into the parking lot. “Mrs. Ross!” He called out, and ran towards the van. “I’ll sit in the back,” he called out, and even in the weird blue white light of the parking lot, Pete could see that he was redder than he’d ever been before…shit. What the hell did Clark just tell him? His mom was smiling at him when he climbed in to sit next to her in the van, but Clark, Clark was staring at the floor.
******
“So this thing happened tonight, Mom. This weird thing.” Mom’s looking at me like I’m playing twenty questions and she doesn’t want to.
“Okay, so, Mom…Cee, ah…Clark said something weird tonight.” And I can see his face again, bright red and sweat on his forehead, like he was in pain or something. Fuck. ‘Cause I don’t want my best friend to be gay, and I don’t want him wanting me, you know? And I feel real funny, ‘cause he’s been in my bedroom—hell, my bed, and he’s seen me naked. And I guess he liked it. That thought makes me shiver.
“What’d he say, Pete honey, and make it quick will you, I have got to get these darn shoes off.” She’s taking her earrings off while she’s talking to me and dropping them in the little dish she keeps on her dresser for that. “I swear, all shoes are designed by some guy with a serious hate for women.”
I swallow when she says that. “Clark. Clark, see—he said--something weird tonight.”
She looks at me and not too patiently, she’s giving me the ‘hurry up’ stare. “Well, son, he does do that a lot, doesn’t he?” She thinks Clark is kind of a giant muppet or something, like he’s not too bright but kind of cute and I don’t know why. Clark gets better grades than me. But he’s quiet and lord knows nobody here is quiet and… “Ma, he told me that he *likes* me. Likes me, and I think he meant like…that.” I’m hoping to Christ she understands, ‘cause I don’t feel like explaining what gay means to her.
Mom stops and stares at me. “What the heck are you talking about, Pete? What do you mean, likes you?”
“Ma,” I say, “Some guys—they like other guys, they call that--”
And Mom yells, “For God’s sake Pete, I know what you call them. Are you sure? You must be mistaken, Clark is a nice boy. He wouldn’t be like that…my goodness. Has…has he ever touched you?”
“No, Ma,” I say, and I’m kind of mad. If he had, what did she think I’d do? Just let him do it? Besides, Clark’s my friend. My best friend.
Mom looks all upset now and I should have asked somebody else about it, I guess.
“I should call Martha. She really needs to know. Maybe if they talk to him…Pete,” she says. “I think maybe you should cool it a little with Clark. Maybe you shouldn’t hang out quite so much.”
God. She acts like Clark’s a stranger. “Ma, don’t call his mom—he’ll know I told. I don’t’ think he wants that--”
She’s still talking though. “Maybe it’s because of that thing that happened to him when he was little…”
I’m not listening to her anymore. I’m playing with that piece of paper in my pocket. I should give Angela a call. Yeah. I think I’ll do that. And I’ll talk to Clark tomorrow, or the next…soon.
TBC
Fandom: SV
Pairing: n/a—yet.
Rating: 1
Summary: This is the land of AU-ness. Long live AU’s!
Previous Parts are here, sucking back daiquiris and thinking about boys…or is that thinking about daiquiris and…
Eighth Grade
Clark was still a little stunned. More than a little. The new girl…wow. She was…different. Big city different, he guessed. Maybe they were all like that in the city. His head still whirled a bit. This—what happened wasn’t exactly what he thought would happen. He’d been ‘volunteered’ to show her around and she’d been like a whirlwind, not shy at all.
That girl was a little blonde tornado—all over the place, all flying hands, all non-stop talking…he grinned. She’d taken that “show me around” thing seriously too. After school she’d dragged him right downtown, and they’d searched the News Rack for a Daily Planet. She acted like she’d been hijacked to Mars instead of the country--poor Chloe Sullivan, cast away on an alien planet, lost in the untamed wilds of Smallville. He snickered, thinking about how excited she’d been when they’d actually found The Daily Planet. Her lifeline to ‘Civilization’.
And then—holy crap, when she’d found out he lived on a farm, that was the topper. She’d even demanded to know why he had zippers on his clothes. And, okay, that was really strange. It took him a while to figure out what the heck she’d been getting at…zippers. Clark leaned back on the little army cot he’d shoved up into the loft, and laughed. Her face when she’d seen Dad on the new tractor, and Mom using the food processor. She’d been absolutely scandalized! He giggled even harder.
Amish! She’d thought anyone who lived and worked on a farm had to be Amish. Gosh, where did the people in the city think their food came from? Clark’s giggles slowly stopped, and he grinned. Buddy shoved him off the cot, so he lay on the floor and thought about the other weird thing that happened.
She’d kissed him. And not a peck on the cheek. A *kiss* kiss. A big deep kiss that wow—he felt to his toes, and then said, “I know you've been thinking about that all day, so I figured we'd get it out of the way and be friends.” And after the kiss, she just went on yakking until her dad came to pick her up. Mr. Sullivan was nice in a trying just a wee bit too hard kind of way. Kind of nice looking too…and his daughter just might have proved what he’s been thinking about himself all along.
He was pretty sure what he felt about some—guys-- was what he probably should be feeling for Chloe. He licked his lips, still tasting her strawberry flavored lip-gloss. He could feel it still, kind of slick and greasy on his lips. He walked over to the porthole shaped mirror hanging on one of the wall studs. In fact, he could still see it. It made his lips look…shiny. Nice. He licked at the remnants of gloss, and a slow shiver tickled low in his belly. He thought of Pete touching the gloss, and the tickle turned into a swift jab. He winced, but not because it hurt….
******
Clark kept looking at Pete, and it made him uncomfortable. He was supposed to be looking at his date—a girl that Pete had gone to a lot of trouble to set Clark up with. No one should be at the Founders Day dance without a date---this was almost like the eighth grade prom. And what was Clark doing? Giving him the evil eye from across the dance floor. Pete had no damn idea what was wrong with Clark, what he’s done to piss him off like that, but it was kind of putting a crimp in his moves.
Or not-- Angela kept pulling him out to the dance floor, and she was dancing really close, and the chaperones weren’t looking. It felt good when she dragged him, it felt good when she pulled him back into her whenever he pulled back a little—he had a boner.
He thought that he was gonna to die of embarrassment, and then he thought he was gonna die from really, really good luck. Boy…
He was breathing harder and harder and his face felt like it was going to explode and when she finally let him walk off the dance floor—when he *had* to walk off the dance floor, he was yanking his shirt down ‘til it hit his knees. Whoo. He was grinning, he felt like he was on top of the world; he was definitely going to call her later. He felt the paper with her number scrawled on it shoved deep in his pocket. He adjusted himself a little and then—Clark was towering over him, and his lips were pushed out, and his cheeks were really red.
“What’s up, Cee?” He looked pissed, Pete thought—maybe his date was not exactly what he wanted it to be.
“I’m tired. I want to go home.”
Pete decided not to argue. Clark really looked stressed. Really stressed. “Okay. Let me call my mom.”
Clark looked a little relieved at that, and they left the dance.
Outside, the cool air made Pete zip up his jacket, and Clark shivered and buttoned his jacket, the collar pulled up around his neck. He shuffled back and forth, he squirmed and coughed until Pete asked, “What the hell is wrong, Cee? You’re jumping around like something crawled up your ass.”
Clark burst out in a high pitched yip of a laugh, and looked stunned at the sound that came out of his mouth. Pete laughed harder. “You really are a mess. What’s going on in that big empty space between your ears?”
“Ah. Pete. Pete…I have a problem.”
Pete nodded. “Okay. So—tell me.”
“I like you. A lot. A lot. A--”
“Yo, Cee…you’re stuck. And I don’t think I heard right because it seems like you said--”
Clark quickly cut in. “Nothing, I didn’t say anything—look, it’s your mom’s car!” He frantically waved at the mini van swerving into the parking lot. “Mrs. Ross!” He called out, and ran towards the van. “I’ll sit in the back,” he called out, and even in the weird blue white light of the parking lot, Pete could see that he was redder than he’d ever been before…shit. What the hell did Clark just tell him? His mom was smiling at him when he climbed in to sit next to her in the van, but Clark, Clark was staring at the floor.
******
“So this thing happened tonight, Mom. This weird thing.” Mom’s looking at me like I’m playing twenty questions and she doesn’t want to.
“Okay, so, Mom…Cee, ah…Clark said something weird tonight.” And I can see his face again, bright red and sweat on his forehead, like he was in pain or something. Fuck. ‘Cause I don’t want my best friend to be gay, and I don’t want him wanting me, you know? And I feel real funny, ‘cause he’s been in my bedroom—hell, my bed, and he’s seen me naked. And I guess he liked it. That thought makes me shiver.
“What’d he say, Pete honey, and make it quick will you, I have got to get these darn shoes off.” She’s taking her earrings off while she’s talking to me and dropping them in the little dish she keeps on her dresser for that. “I swear, all shoes are designed by some guy with a serious hate for women.”
I swallow when she says that. “Clark. Clark, see—he said--something weird tonight.”
She looks at me and not too patiently, she’s giving me the ‘hurry up’ stare. “Well, son, he does do that a lot, doesn’t he?” She thinks Clark is kind of a giant muppet or something, like he’s not too bright but kind of cute and I don’t know why. Clark gets better grades than me. But he’s quiet and lord knows nobody here is quiet and… “Ma, he told me that he *likes* me. Likes me, and I think he meant like…that.” I’m hoping to Christ she understands, ‘cause I don’t feel like explaining what gay means to her.
Mom stops and stares at me. “What the heck are you talking about, Pete? What do you mean, likes you?”
“Ma,” I say, “Some guys—they like other guys, they call that--”
And Mom yells, “For God’s sake Pete, I know what you call them. Are you sure? You must be mistaken, Clark is a nice boy. He wouldn’t be like that…my goodness. Has…has he ever touched you?”
“No, Ma,” I say, and I’m kind of mad. If he had, what did she think I’d do? Just let him do it? Besides, Clark’s my friend. My best friend.
Mom looks all upset now and I should have asked somebody else about it, I guess.
“I should call Martha. She really needs to know. Maybe if they talk to him…Pete,” she says. “I think maybe you should cool it a little with Clark. Maybe you shouldn’t hang out quite so much.”
God. She acts like Clark’s a stranger. “Ma, don’t call his mom—he’ll know I told. I don’t’ think he wants that--”
She’s still talking though. “Maybe it’s because of that thing that happened to him when he was little…”
I’m not listening to her anymore. I’m playing with that piece of paper in my pocket. I should give Angela a call. Yeah. I think I’ll do that. And I’ll talk to Clark tomorrow, or the next…soon.
TBC
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
10/31/06 06:10 am (UTC)I am really curious as to where you are going with this - I'm totally along for the ride.
(no subject)
10/31/06 06:11 am (UTC)First he's stuck with the "blonde tornado" (love that description of her), then he "confesses" to Pete and it doesn't turn out too well.
Pete doesn't have a very good track record with handling Clark's secrets. I hope this doesn't turn out as bad as the alien thing did. :(
(no subject)
10/31/06 07:27 am (UTC)You make me love him so very much.
*HUGS*
(no subject)
10/31/06 07:47 am (UTC)Amish.
Dude. *flails around*
Grrrrrrr!!!
Be nice.
(no subject)
10/31/06 09:41 am (UTC)He doesn't know what is about to hit him and if smallville is anything like the small town I live in, it's not good to be gay there.
Poor baby... I want to just give him a hug.
*hugs clark*
(no subject)
10/31/06 02:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
10/31/06 03:32 pm (UTC)Oooo. Nice. Me likey.
(no subject)
10/31/06 04:28 pm (UTC)More please!!!
(no subject)
10/31/06 08:47 pm (UTC)Pete was the first person of color that Clark really ever met besides his savior back when he was little. He's learned that comfort and safety comes with people who have darker skin...
He's transferred those feelings of trust, safety and comfort from his rescuer to Pete. He's becoming aware of sexual urges, natural at his age (13 or so) so IMO it makes a ton of sense psychologically. I mean it'd be easy for the feelings of comfort and safety and trust he has for Pete to become sexual, but I'm hardly a psychiatrist.
(no subject)
10/31/06 09:49 pm (UTC)I can't believe they put such a great line in the script and didn't do anythinng with it--I laughed just picturing Chloe going "Amish?"
(no subject)
10/31/06 09:55 pm (UTC)Poor Clark. ;)
(no subject)
10/31/06 09:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
10/31/06 09:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
10/31/06 09:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
10/31/06 09:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
10/31/06 10:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
10/31/06 10:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
10/31/06 10:05 pm (UTC)(no subject)
10/31/06 11:21 pm (UTC)Glad I could tune into your wavelength!
It's a wonderful story so far... I can't wait to see where this is going.
(no subject)
10/31/06 11:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
11/1/06 02:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/1/06 02:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/1/06 03:07 am (UTC)*hugs*
I'm glad you're feeling better.
(no subject)
11/1/06 05:33 am (UTC)(no subject)
11/1/06 06:22 am (UTC)Poor little alien! What he needs is a good Lex....
(no subject)
11/1/06 12:31 pm (UTC)Thanks!
(no subject)
11/5/06 08:44 am (UTC)And I love his descriptions of Chloe, and the whole Amish thing really made me giggle.
(no subject)
11/5/06 09:25 am (UTC)thanks--I had a giggle myself--I *love* when she looks all big-eyed and amazed,and I pictured her looking that way and bouncing all over the farm!
(no subject)
11/11/06 11:19 pm (UTC)On to the next part...
(no subject)
3/18/07 09:11 pm (UTC)Oh no, there goes Pete.
And um...
AMISH!!! lol!!
(no subject)
3/19/07 12:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
3/7/10 09:41 pm (UTC)XD haha
damn *shakes head* People always associate trauma with things to try and explain it away, instead of accepting somethings that are a part of growing up. I'm glad that Clark got up the courage to tell him, but he probably should have waited until they were together and alone, to give Pete time to think on it.
(no subject)
3/7/10 09:55 pm (UTC)Yeah, Clark really could have had better timing with the reveal, all right! :)