fic post: mariposa
11/10/06 10:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyTitle:Mariposa
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/…
Rating: 2
Summary: This is an alternate universe version of Smallville. Very.
Here’s the end bit of Can You Hear Me.
And I’m posting the next bit probably tonight. *collapses*
I’m walking down a long long hallway. It’s school, but it’s not. It’s…dark, like the light is coming from the floor instead of over head. I’m feeling nervous—I think I’m supposed to be taking a test. But I can’t find the classroom, and suddenly there it is, and I open the door and it’s another long hallway. There are footsteps coming closer, louder and louder until they’re deafening and I hear my name, someone is calling me, there he is at the end of the hallway, he’s looking at me and he’s—touching himself, not like that just kind of stroking his arms, his chest, and looking absorbed in it, like it’s the first time he’s ever done that.
He starts walking toward me, and stained glass windows all around us turn his pale skin red and purple and blue…he stops right in front of me, touches my mouth, my neck. He leans in and cups my cheek and says ‘I have so much to show you Clark; I’m going to make you come so hard….
Clark woke up with a startled snort. That guy again! What the hell was it with that Lex Luthor guy? Clark blinked his eyes a moment or two. Did he invade that guy’s dreams too? He yawned, the dream already fading and when he tried to stretch realized he was spread over Whitney’s lap. Thank God, Whit was sound asleep. His head was tilted back, and his mouth open. He was breathing fast and shallow. And Clark suddenly realized that Whit was very warm, and very…hard…crap.
Buddy was up and poking his nose into Clark’s eye. “Buddy, stop,” he whispered, and at the same moment, Whit moaned. He lifted his hips a little, rocked against Clark, opened his eyes, and froze. Clark jumped off the couch—babbled, “Wow, it’s late, very late, hunh? Want me to walk you to your truck?” and looked everywhere but at Whit.
Whit nodded, not looking at Clark. He was silent all the way down the stairs, silent as he climbed into his truck and drove away without looking back.
****
Clark wasn’t stupid. He knew Whitney was avoiding him, and he knew why. He also knew that it wasn’t his problem, *or* his fault, and he knew that there wasn’t anything in him that caused it to happen. Clark was completely aware that kids like him felt that way sometimes. He knew very well what happened to him had nothing to do what he was or what he’d done--that it had been a random bitch-slap of the universe…he knew it…but what he *felt* was different.
So he didn’t ask Whitney what was wrong, and he didn’t try to talk to him, or look at him when he passed him in school. He left him alone. And Whit left him alone. And that was good.
Clark sat in the cafeteria, chewing on a sandwich tasty and moist as sawdust and trying his best to look like he was going over his notes--doing homework--whatever—just trying not to look like he was surreptitiously checking Whit out. Salvation came in the form of blonde enthusiasm. Chloe was suddenly there at his table, launched into conversation without a hello.
“I’ve been looking all over for you!” she said accusingly, as if he wouldn’t be at lunch at this time of the day—every day. “Listen— Sean Kelvin wants to meet up at that party tonight…what do you think of him?”
“Um...I don’t? He’s not bad looking but he’s a—a dick, from what I hear,” Clark said and tried to protect his lunch from Chloe’s foraging.
“Me too—but he asked me out.”
“Oh, no, Chloe, he’s really an asshole. I know for sure, hanging out with—with Whitney and his friends.”
Chloe looked sympathetic as she managed to grab a piece of roast beef from Clark’s sandwich. “So…are you okay?” She knew about Clark’s crush, in fact they spent hours discussing it in detail, and she was always nice enough not to hang up on him, or fall asleep on him too much…or laugh at him. He blushed a little. He figured she knew pretty well what this kind of thing felt like.
She snapped at him, “Clark! I can tell you’re about to apologize for something you shouldn’t—knock it off.”
Clark smiled. “Okay, okay…Chloe, I’m the last one to come to for advice, but I think Sean’s an asshole— I also think you’re tough enough to take him. Maybe you’re just what he needs to happen to him.”
Chloe jumped up and laughed. “Thanks for making me sound like retribution, farm boy.” She grabbed some chips from his plate. “Meet you in the Torch later?”
He nodded, and watched her float back out of the room. She passed Whit’s table and waved at Lana, and Whit glanced his way. For the first time in over a week, they actually made eye contact, and Whit looked furious.
Clark sighed and flipped his notebook open again. Not. His. Problem. He was going to repeat that until he believed it. He sat staring at the page until he finally admitted to himself the letters were dancing on the page and laughing at him—he grabbed his tray and notebooks and made his way to the garbage.
“Hey, Kent.”
A few guys he knew through Whit were standing by the cans. He flinched inwardly, before smiling. “What’s up, guys?”
They greeted Clark with mild interest. “Haven’t seen you around lately. Where you been? Coming to the party tonight?”
Clark nodded. “I’m thinking about it.” He glanced back to Whit and Lana’s table. They were talking to each other, hands all over each other, and occasionally Lana laughed. She glanced his way, smiled and waved.
He waved back, and threw his garbage into the can so hard it moved a bit. Sean Kelvin walked past and stopped, eyed him. “Whoa. Temper. What’s up, Kent—someone not paying attention to you?” He smirked, laughed a little nastily. "Don’t worry; they’ll be at the lake tonight. Maybe they’ll pay attention then.”
Clark tried to move past him, and he grabbed his arm, squeezed a little—squeezed harder when Clark tried to yank his arm away. “Say, I wanted to ask you about Chloe—is she flying solo tonight?” He winked.
Clark managed to yank his arm free. “Believe me, Sean, she’s not your type.”
Sean leaned back, and bounced on his heels a bit as he looked Clark over slowly. “Is that right? You’d be surprised what my type is. Make sure you come tonight, Kent. You might have a better time than you think. You *and* Chloe.” He sauntered away, and Clark was seized with an overwhelming urge to kick him. What an asshole.
In the end, Clark decided not to go, and Chloe assured him he’d made the right decision. “God—boring, so boring and you were right about Sean. He tried to hit on me and when I didn’t instantly fling my panties off--”
“Chloe! God.”
“--that was the last I saw of him. Anyway, I left not too long after. Oh, by the way, I saw Pete there.”
“Yeah? How is he?” Clark asked almost automatically, and waited for Chloe to change the subject.
“He told me to tell you hi.”
Clark was startled enough to gape at Chloe. She leaned over and closed his mouth with a finger under his jaw, and a smile. “He did?” Clark smiled a little. “Well, that’s nice.”
“Pete’s not a complete A-hole not like some I could name.”
“No, no, he’s not,” Clark mused. Even if Pete wasn’t his friend anymore, he was still keeping his secrets. Still protecting him in a way.
tbc
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/…
Rating: 2
Summary: This is an alternate universe version of Smallville. Very.
Here’s the end bit of Can You Hear Me.
And I’m posting the next bit probably tonight. *collapses*
I’m walking down a long long hallway. It’s school, but it’s not. It’s…dark, like the light is coming from the floor instead of over head. I’m feeling nervous—I think I’m supposed to be taking a test. But I can’t find the classroom, and suddenly there it is, and I open the door and it’s another long hallway. There are footsteps coming closer, louder and louder until they’re deafening and I hear my name, someone is calling me, there he is at the end of the hallway, he’s looking at me and he’s—touching himself, not like that just kind of stroking his arms, his chest, and looking absorbed in it, like it’s the first time he’s ever done that.
He starts walking toward me, and stained glass windows all around us turn his pale skin red and purple and blue…he stops right in front of me, touches my mouth, my neck. He leans in and cups my cheek and says ‘I have so much to show you Clark; I’m going to make you come so hard….
Clark woke up with a startled snort. That guy again! What the hell was it with that Lex Luthor guy? Clark blinked his eyes a moment or two. Did he invade that guy’s dreams too? He yawned, the dream already fading and when he tried to stretch realized he was spread over Whitney’s lap. Thank God, Whit was sound asleep. His head was tilted back, and his mouth open. He was breathing fast and shallow. And Clark suddenly realized that Whit was very warm, and very…hard…crap.
Buddy was up and poking his nose into Clark’s eye. “Buddy, stop,” he whispered, and at the same moment, Whit moaned. He lifted his hips a little, rocked against Clark, opened his eyes, and froze. Clark jumped off the couch—babbled, “Wow, it’s late, very late, hunh? Want me to walk you to your truck?” and looked everywhere but at Whit.
Whit nodded, not looking at Clark. He was silent all the way down the stairs, silent as he climbed into his truck and drove away without looking back.
****
Clark wasn’t stupid. He knew Whitney was avoiding him, and he knew why. He also knew that it wasn’t his problem, *or* his fault, and he knew that there wasn’t anything in him that caused it to happen. Clark was completely aware that kids like him felt that way sometimes. He knew very well what happened to him had nothing to do what he was or what he’d done--that it had been a random bitch-slap of the universe…he knew it…but what he *felt* was different.
So he didn’t ask Whitney what was wrong, and he didn’t try to talk to him, or look at him when he passed him in school. He left him alone. And Whit left him alone. And that was good.
Clark sat in the cafeteria, chewing on a sandwich tasty and moist as sawdust and trying his best to look like he was going over his notes--doing homework--whatever—just trying not to look like he was surreptitiously checking Whit out. Salvation came in the form of blonde enthusiasm. Chloe was suddenly there at his table, launched into conversation without a hello.
“I’ve been looking all over for you!” she said accusingly, as if he wouldn’t be at lunch at this time of the day—every day. “Listen— Sean Kelvin wants to meet up at that party tonight…what do you think of him?”
“Um...I don’t? He’s not bad looking but he’s a—a dick, from what I hear,” Clark said and tried to protect his lunch from Chloe’s foraging.
“Me too—but he asked me out.”
“Oh, no, Chloe, he’s really an asshole. I know for sure, hanging out with—with Whitney and his friends.”
Chloe looked sympathetic as she managed to grab a piece of roast beef from Clark’s sandwich. “So…are you okay?” She knew about Clark’s crush, in fact they spent hours discussing it in detail, and she was always nice enough not to hang up on him, or fall asleep on him too much…or laugh at him. He blushed a little. He figured she knew pretty well what this kind of thing felt like.
She snapped at him, “Clark! I can tell you’re about to apologize for something you shouldn’t—knock it off.”
Clark smiled. “Okay, okay…Chloe, I’m the last one to come to for advice, but I think Sean’s an asshole— I also think you’re tough enough to take him. Maybe you’re just what he needs to happen to him.”
Chloe jumped up and laughed. “Thanks for making me sound like retribution, farm boy.” She grabbed some chips from his plate. “Meet you in the Torch later?”
He nodded, and watched her float back out of the room. She passed Whit’s table and waved at Lana, and Whit glanced his way. For the first time in over a week, they actually made eye contact, and Whit looked furious.
Clark sighed and flipped his notebook open again. Not. His. Problem. He was going to repeat that until he believed it. He sat staring at the page until he finally admitted to himself the letters were dancing on the page and laughing at him—he grabbed his tray and notebooks and made his way to the garbage.
“Hey, Kent.”
A few guys he knew through Whit were standing by the cans. He flinched inwardly, before smiling. “What’s up, guys?”
They greeted Clark with mild interest. “Haven’t seen you around lately. Where you been? Coming to the party tonight?”
Clark nodded. “I’m thinking about it.” He glanced back to Whit and Lana’s table. They were talking to each other, hands all over each other, and occasionally Lana laughed. She glanced his way, smiled and waved.
He waved back, and threw his garbage into the can so hard it moved a bit. Sean Kelvin walked past and stopped, eyed him. “Whoa. Temper. What’s up, Kent—someone not paying attention to you?” He smirked, laughed a little nastily. "Don’t worry; they’ll be at the lake tonight. Maybe they’ll pay attention then.”
Clark tried to move past him, and he grabbed his arm, squeezed a little—squeezed harder when Clark tried to yank his arm away. “Say, I wanted to ask you about Chloe—is she flying solo tonight?” He winked.
Clark managed to yank his arm free. “Believe me, Sean, she’s not your type.”
Sean leaned back, and bounced on his heels a bit as he looked Clark over slowly. “Is that right? You’d be surprised what my type is. Make sure you come tonight, Kent. You might have a better time than you think. You *and* Chloe.” He sauntered away, and Clark was seized with an overwhelming urge to kick him. What an asshole.
In the end, Clark decided not to go, and Chloe assured him he’d made the right decision. “God—boring, so boring and you were right about Sean. He tried to hit on me and when I didn’t instantly fling my panties off--”
“Chloe! God.”
“--that was the last I saw of him. Anyway, I left not too long after. Oh, by the way, I saw Pete there.”
“Yeah? How is he?” Clark asked almost automatically, and waited for Chloe to change the subject.
“He told me to tell you hi.”
Clark was startled enough to gape at Chloe. She leaned over and closed his mouth with a finger under his jaw, and a smile. “He did?” Clark smiled a little. “Well, that’s nice.”
“Pete’s not a complete A-hole not like some I could name.”
“No, no, he’s not,” Clark mused. Even if Pete wasn’t his friend anymore, he was still keeping his secrets. Still protecting him in a way.
tbc
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