Fic post:Mariposa
12/8/06 12:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyTitle:Mariposa
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Whit…
Rating: 2
Summary: AU’s are practically canon so far as SV goes….
The Previous Parts are here, hanging out at the Quick Stop…yo, what the eff you lookin’ at?
“What the fuck happened, Clark? Why did you leave the party?” Whit was already asking as he jumped out of the truck, and ran for the porch. Anger made his eyes a crystal blue, something Clark tried to ignore. Whit gripped the porch rail and glared at Clark, when he wanted to move closer Clark stopped him. He stood blocking the top stair of the porch, glaring right back at Whit. The asshole. Here he was, injured, and Whit was angry because he left his princess behind try to help someone.
“Well, I’m so sorry I left your *girlfriend* alone—I was kind of busy trying to help a friend.” He stomped back across the porch, grabbed the front doorknob. He yanked the door open, ready to slam it shut on the obnoxious jerk, when Whit grabbed his arm.
“Clark, I know what happened out at the nursery—you could have been hurt bad, the way Chloe described it. You were just so fucking lucky; if Pete hadn’t pulled you away from the fire…” he grabbed Clark’s hand. “You could have been killed. And what would have happened to me then—how could I have lived?”
Clark was stunned-- Whit’s eyes were red, and his lashes were wet…he wiped his eyes hard and fast, and started to yell at Clark some more… “Next time someone loses their mind, call the cops—you’re not made of steel, damn it!” He pulled Clark into a hard hug, squeezing the air from him, and stepped back, with his hands cradling Clark’s face. “Understand me?”
“Yes, yeah, okay,” Clark grinned. “Me too.”
Whit eyes widened. He inhaled deeply and then, smiled. “Yeah.” He slowly let his hands drop from Clark’s face, fall to his shoulders and squeeze lightly. “Yeah.”
Whit left with promises to come back later when he was free—this was his day to help out at the store. Clark watched the truck bump down the drive, and turned back to the house. His mom was looking out the screen door, her hand frozen in the act pf pushing against the screen. Her mouth was slightly open, her eyebrows high…she whirled around and was gone. ‘Oh shit,’ Clark thought. He flung the door open, headed to the kitchen. If he knew his mother, she’d be getting ready to make--something, a cake, cookies…
She had the flour out and was filling a measuring cup when he rounded the doorway.
“Mom…”
“Clark, what should I make, butterscotch oatmeal or chocolate chip cookies?” She asked brightly, and busily checked the pantry cabinet for the chocolate chips.
“Mom…what you saw just now, I can explain.”
“Really?” she said, and the relief was painfully clear on her face. “I didn’t want to seem like I was eavesdropping, I just happened to be walking by and I heard Whit—he sounded upset.” She wiped her hands on the towel tucked at her waist, and waited expectantly.
“Ah, well…what it looked like, what it looked like…” he inhaled and pushed on, “Right. What it looked like is that we like each other. I mean we do. A lot. I like Whit.”
His mom was nodding, still smiling, and slowly, tears filled her eyes.
He felt his own fill. “I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is for me. I mean I'm gay, Mom.”
“Oh, Clark, how can you know? You’re so young—maybe it’s just a phase, lots of kids experiment—it’s natural to be confused at this age--” there was an edge of fear in her voice her eyes…God. Clark was afraid of what she might ask next, and rushed to interrupt her.
“Mom. I’m not confused.” Much, he thought. “This is me. It’s what I feel. I’ve felt this way—forever.”
“But Chloe--” his mom started.
“—has always been just a friend. I’m sorry. I mean, not sorry, but…I hope you aren’t disappointed.” But he meant much more than that. I hope you aren’t scared of me, I hope you don’t hate me, I hope I’m still your son…
“Clark…I’m not disappointed,” she said, and wiped the tears that fell away. “You could never disappoint me. You’re my son, the best son anyone could ask for.” She opened her arms and he walked forward, slowly, hesitantly, and she grabbed him into a fierce hug. “I’m not upset about that,” she said, “I’m scared for you. This is a cruel world to whoever’s outside the boxes society creates for us.”
Clark was surprised. That sounded a little rehearsed to him. He had a feeling… “You knew, didn’t you?” he stepped back and stared at her. “You knew already?”
She sighed and let Clark go. “I was beginning to think…maybe. The look on your face, when Whitney comes to visit. It made me think. Well. I like Whit.” She smiled, and wiped another wayward tear.
“God, Mom, I was so scared, you have no idea.”
“Actually, I have some slight idea,” she grinned wryly. “Taking *your* father to meet *my* father…let’s just say, that was every bit as awful as I was afraid to would be.
“It was, wasn’t it? I behaved pretty badly too”
Clark felt the blood drain from his face—Dad—oh God, he was standing right behind him in the doorway, just like some goofy movie…he had to have heard…
“Son, after that meeting with your grandfather—a meeting that I still see in my dreams,” he said and cast a wry look at his wife, “I swore I’d never treat my kids the way we were treated. I swore I’d never make a child of mine choose between who they loved, or their parents. I meant that with all my heart then, and I mean it still.”
Clark gaped at these complete strangers, his parents. These people were not to be believed. He felt like he was in the middle of a miracle. He shook all over, and horribly, embarrassingly, began to cry.
Nobody on the planet was luckier than he was—he was gifted, blessed, his life couldn’t get better than this.
*****
When Whitney called Clark, eventually the conversation turned to his girlfriend, and in a fog of generous feeling still left from the morning, Clark told Whitney all about his conversation with Lana, her dreams for a perfect birthday. “So, if you want to do something nice for her, it would make her happy. My dad’s got an old projector, and some 8mm film reels—never mind what that means, I’ll explain later. Okay. Good-bye.”
He hung up the phone, scrubbed his hands through his hair—thought hard. The generous mood he’d been in evaporated. This…this that he had with Whit just sucked. It sucked worse than—anything. It was masochistic and stupid, and so far as he could see, Lana was getting the best of this. Beside, he was tired of going behind her back. He hadn’t told Whitney yet, but it made him feel bad. Wrong. He took a deep breath to steady himself and went to ask his dad if Whit could borrow the old projector.
That night, while Whitney took his girlfriend on her ‘dream date’, Clark sat on the couch and watched endless gossip TV with Chloe, and ate himself nearly sick on popcorn. They laughed and made fun of the stars and their idiocies exposed, and he was well aware that she kept glancing at him. He was about to ask her to lighten up when he was caught by the latest segment playing on the screen.
“Hey," Chloe said, "it’s Lex Luthor. Remember?”
“Of course, I remember—I saved his life, after all.”
“Oh please, Clark. Standing on the side of the road jumping up and down and screaming ‘stop’ isn’t exactly worth bragging about. He probably stopped because he was scared of the lunatic on the road.”
“Shut up,” he laughed. “He thanked me, you know. *He* said I saved him.” Clark frowned. “It felt right, and wrong at the same time. Chloe was right—there should have been more. He remembered the vivid dream he’d had the night after and blushed hard. He shifted the bowl to cover his lap. On screen, Luthor was laughing, talking to some guy, some celebrity or another, and Clark was fascinated by his mouth, the way it moved. The sharp smile seemed to slice right into him.
“Hello—earth to Clark. You know, he’s in the latest issue of Fortune. I’m sure lots of people buy it for the centerfold…”
Clark gaped at her, wondering how much the magazine cost and where he could buy it. “Really? They have a centerfold?” He pictured Lex Luthor spread out on a big…glass
desk, yeah…
“Oh my god, Clark! Do you hear yourself? You’re a mess! Give up the impossible dream, my friend…um.” She looked guilty and shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth.
Clark sighed. It didn’t take W.O.W abilities to know who Chloe was thinking of. “Chloe. He loves me. I know it. It’s just that…what else can we do?”
“Clark, I told you from the beginning, he’s never going to acknowledge you. How can you be happy like this? Doesn’t it bother you--”
“Chloe! Yes, okay? It bothers me!” Clark jumped off the couch and stomped outside. He was halfway down the driveway before she caught up with him, panting and pink, to hang off his shoulder dramatically.
“Oh my god, Clark,” she gasped, “you’re *fast*! When did you get so fast?”
Clark looked around. He was at the end of the drive; he didn’t realize he’d moved so far. He pulled his arm away and moved so he stood with his back to her. “You’re just making me feel bad. What do you want me to do? Out him and screw everything up for him? He’d got a career to think of, just like you said. He's been accepted by Kansas State, and I’m not going to be the one to fuck it up for him.”
He heard Chloe whisper, “Clark…” and turned to her. “I know everything you’re telling me, I hear you, but I can’t help it. I love him, and he loves me. Lana only has a little part of him, but I have his heart.” *I know I do.*
Chloe looked at him, her lip caught in her teeth. Her eyes were wide and so sad. “Clark. You’re being a fool. This thing—it’s going to kill you. But I know nothing I say will mean anything to you so…I’m here when you need me. Even though you’re a fucking idiot.”
“Thanks,” he said. “And thanks for calling me an effing idiot; I can’t tell you how that always makes me feel better.”
“I know.” She grabbed his hand, and swung it a little and asked with a tiny smile, “Do you want to hear some W.O.W. news?”
“Can I stop you?”
“Jody’s dad left town, mysteriously. No one knows where he’s gone—and the greenhouse? Level and clean as a whistle, all those rocks gone. Oh, yeah, and the house burned. They’re saying embers from the greenhouse fire caught the house alight. Hunh. A day later?”
Clark shrugged. “I’m sure it’s possible.” He really didn’t want to think about it, he kept seeing Jody, her thin drawn face wet with tears, her mouth twisted with self-loathing…she’d hated herself so much for not being like everyone else…Clark shuddered violently. “Can we please talk about anything else but that—and Whit?”
“Clark,” she said, with her hands on her hips, “one day, you’re going to wish you’d paid more attention to me, mark my words.”
“Chloe. Shut up?”
******
tbc
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Whit…
Rating: 2
Summary: AU’s are practically canon so far as SV goes….
The Previous Parts are here, hanging out at the Quick Stop…yo, what the eff you lookin’ at?
“What the fuck happened, Clark? Why did you leave the party?” Whit was already asking as he jumped out of the truck, and ran for the porch. Anger made his eyes a crystal blue, something Clark tried to ignore. Whit gripped the porch rail and glared at Clark, when he wanted to move closer Clark stopped him. He stood blocking the top stair of the porch, glaring right back at Whit. The asshole. Here he was, injured, and Whit was angry because he left his princess behind try to help someone.
“Well, I’m so sorry I left your *girlfriend* alone—I was kind of busy trying to help a friend.” He stomped back across the porch, grabbed the front doorknob. He yanked the door open, ready to slam it shut on the obnoxious jerk, when Whit grabbed his arm.
“Clark, I know what happened out at the nursery—you could have been hurt bad, the way Chloe described it. You were just so fucking lucky; if Pete hadn’t pulled you away from the fire…” he grabbed Clark’s hand. “You could have been killed. And what would have happened to me then—how could I have lived?”
Clark was stunned-- Whit’s eyes were red, and his lashes were wet…he wiped his eyes hard and fast, and started to yell at Clark some more… “Next time someone loses their mind, call the cops—you’re not made of steel, damn it!” He pulled Clark into a hard hug, squeezing the air from him, and stepped back, with his hands cradling Clark’s face. “Understand me?”
“Yes, yeah, okay,” Clark grinned. “Me too.”
Whit eyes widened. He inhaled deeply and then, smiled. “Yeah.” He slowly let his hands drop from Clark’s face, fall to his shoulders and squeeze lightly. “Yeah.”
Whit left with promises to come back later when he was free—this was his day to help out at the store. Clark watched the truck bump down the drive, and turned back to the house. His mom was looking out the screen door, her hand frozen in the act pf pushing against the screen. Her mouth was slightly open, her eyebrows high…she whirled around and was gone. ‘Oh shit,’ Clark thought. He flung the door open, headed to the kitchen. If he knew his mother, she’d be getting ready to make--something, a cake, cookies…
She had the flour out and was filling a measuring cup when he rounded the doorway.
“Mom…”
“Clark, what should I make, butterscotch oatmeal or chocolate chip cookies?” She asked brightly, and busily checked the pantry cabinet for the chocolate chips.
“Mom…what you saw just now, I can explain.”
“Really?” she said, and the relief was painfully clear on her face. “I didn’t want to seem like I was eavesdropping, I just happened to be walking by and I heard Whit—he sounded upset.” She wiped her hands on the towel tucked at her waist, and waited expectantly.
“Ah, well…what it looked like, what it looked like…” he inhaled and pushed on, “Right. What it looked like is that we like each other. I mean we do. A lot. I like Whit.”
His mom was nodding, still smiling, and slowly, tears filled her eyes.
He felt his own fill. “I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is for me. I mean I'm gay, Mom.”
“Oh, Clark, how can you know? You’re so young—maybe it’s just a phase, lots of kids experiment—it’s natural to be confused at this age--” there was an edge of fear in her voice her eyes…God. Clark was afraid of what she might ask next, and rushed to interrupt her.
“Mom. I’m not confused.” Much, he thought. “This is me. It’s what I feel. I’ve felt this way—forever.”
“But Chloe--” his mom started.
“—has always been just a friend. I’m sorry. I mean, not sorry, but…I hope you aren’t disappointed.” But he meant much more than that. I hope you aren’t scared of me, I hope you don’t hate me, I hope I’m still your son…
“Clark…I’m not disappointed,” she said, and wiped the tears that fell away. “You could never disappoint me. You’re my son, the best son anyone could ask for.” She opened her arms and he walked forward, slowly, hesitantly, and she grabbed him into a fierce hug. “I’m not upset about that,” she said, “I’m scared for you. This is a cruel world to whoever’s outside the boxes society creates for us.”
Clark was surprised. That sounded a little rehearsed to him. He had a feeling… “You knew, didn’t you?” he stepped back and stared at her. “You knew already?”
She sighed and let Clark go. “I was beginning to think…maybe. The look on your face, when Whitney comes to visit. It made me think. Well. I like Whit.” She smiled, and wiped another wayward tear.
“God, Mom, I was so scared, you have no idea.”
“Actually, I have some slight idea,” she grinned wryly. “Taking *your* father to meet *my* father…let’s just say, that was every bit as awful as I was afraid to would be.
“It was, wasn’t it? I behaved pretty badly too”
Clark felt the blood drain from his face—Dad—oh God, he was standing right behind him in the doorway, just like some goofy movie…he had to have heard…
“Son, after that meeting with your grandfather—a meeting that I still see in my dreams,” he said and cast a wry look at his wife, “I swore I’d never treat my kids the way we were treated. I swore I’d never make a child of mine choose between who they loved, or their parents. I meant that with all my heart then, and I mean it still.”
Clark gaped at these complete strangers, his parents. These people were not to be believed. He felt like he was in the middle of a miracle. He shook all over, and horribly, embarrassingly, began to cry.
Nobody on the planet was luckier than he was—he was gifted, blessed, his life couldn’t get better than this.
*****
When Whitney called Clark, eventually the conversation turned to his girlfriend, and in a fog of generous feeling still left from the morning, Clark told Whitney all about his conversation with Lana, her dreams for a perfect birthday. “So, if you want to do something nice for her, it would make her happy. My dad’s got an old projector, and some 8mm film reels—never mind what that means, I’ll explain later. Okay. Good-bye.”
He hung up the phone, scrubbed his hands through his hair—thought hard. The generous mood he’d been in evaporated. This…this that he had with Whit just sucked. It sucked worse than—anything. It was masochistic and stupid, and so far as he could see, Lana was getting the best of this. Beside, he was tired of going behind her back. He hadn’t told Whitney yet, but it made him feel bad. Wrong. He took a deep breath to steady himself and went to ask his dad if Whit could borrow the old projector.
That night, while Whitney took his girlfriend on her ‘dream date’, Clark sat on the couch and watched endless gossip TV with Chloe, and ate himself nearly sick on popcorn. They laughed and made fun of the stars and their idiocies exposed, and he was well aware that she kept glancing at him. He was about to ask her to lighten up when he was caught by the latest segment playing on the screen.
“Hey," Chloe said, "it’s Lex Luthor. Remember?”
“Of course, I remember—I saved his life, after all.”
“Oh please, Clark. Standing on the side of the road jumping up and down and screaming ‘stop’ isn’t exactly worth bragging about. He probably stopped because he was scared of the lunatic on the road.”
“Shut up,” he laughed. “He thanked me, you know. *He* said I saved him.” Clark frowned. “It felt right, and wrong at the same time. Chloe was right—there should have been more. He remembered the vivid dream he’d had the night after and blushed hard. He shifted the bowl to cover his lap. On screen, Luthor was laughing, talking to some guy, some celebrity or another, and Clark was fascinated by his mouth, the way it moved. The sharp smile seemed to slice right into him.
“Hello—earth to Clark. You know, he’s in the latest issue of Fortune. I’m sure lots of people buy it for the centerfold…”
Clark gaped at her, wondering how much the magazine cost and where he could buy it. “Really? They have a centerfold?” He pictured Lex Luthor spread out on a big…glass
desk, yeah…
“Oh my god, Clark! Do you hear yourself? You’re a mess! Give up the impossible dream, my friend…um.” She looked guilty and shoved a handful of popcorn in her mouth.
Clark sighed. It didn’t take W.O.W abilities to know who Chloe was thinking of. “Chloe. He loves me. I know it. It’s just that…what else can we do?”
“Clark, I told you from the beginning, he’s never going to acknowledge you. How can you be happy like this? Doesn’t it bother you--”
“Chloe! Yes, okay? It bothers me!” Clark jumped off the couch and stomped outside. He was halfway down the driveway before she caught up with him, panting and pink, to hang off his shoulder dramatically.
“Oh my god, Clark,” she gasped, “you’re *fast*! When did you get so fast?”
Clark looked around. He was at the end of the drive; he didn’t realize he’d moved so far. He pulled his arm away and moved so he stood with his back to her. “You’re just making me feel bad. What do you want me to do? Out him and screw everything up for him? He’d got a career to think of, just like you said. He's been accepted by Kansas State, and I’m not going to be the one to fuck it up for him.”
He heard Chloe whisper, “Clark…” and turned to her. “I know everything you’re telling me, I hear you, but I can’t help it. I love him, and he loves me. Lana only has a little part of him, but I have his heart.” *I know I do.*
Chloe looked at him, her lip caught in her teeth. Her eyes were wide and so sad. “Clark. You’re being a fool. This thing—it’s going to kill you. But I know nothing I say will mean anything to you so…I’m here when you need me. Even though you’re a fucking idiot.”
“Thanks,” he said. “And thanks for calling me an effing idiot; I can’t tell you how that always makes me feel better.”
“I know.” She grabbed his hand, and swung it a little and asked with a tiny smile, “Do you want to hear some W.O.W. news?”
“Can I stop you?”
“Jody’s dad left town, mysteriously. No one knows where he’s gone—and the greenhouse? Level and clean as a whistle, all those rocks gone. Oh, yeah, and the house burned. They’re saying embers from the greenhouse fire caught the house alight. Hunh. A day later?”
Clark shrugged. “I’m sure it’s possible.” He really didn’t want to think about it, he kept seeing Jody, her thin drawn face wet with tears, her mouth twisted with self-loathing…she’d hated herself so much for not being like everyone else…Clark shuddered violently. “Can we please talk about anything else but that—and Whit?”
“Clark,” she said, with her hands on her hips, “one day, you’re going to wish you’d paid more attention to me, mark my words.”
“Chloe. Shut up?”
******
tbc
Tags:
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
12/8/06 06:02 pm (UTC)Aww. *sniff sniff* Good on you, Ma and Pa Kent. Good on you.
(no subject)
12/9/06 02:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
12/8/06 06:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
12/9/06 02:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
12/8/06 06:16 pm (UTC)*yells* "Lex, hey Lex! Wake up! You're losin' your honey over here!"
(no subject)
12/9/06 02:27 am (UTC)I love good Jonathan--I can't help writing him the way I always wanted him to be! Thanks for reading, my dear!
(no subject)
12/8/06 06:17 pm (UTC)And Whit, seriously - give it up!
Sheesh.
*bounce*
Teeny thing:“Hey, Chloe said, it’s Lex Luthor. Remember?”
Your quotes are a little missing, there.
*smoooch*
(no subject)
12/9/06 02:28 am (UTC)Say, beloved--thanks ever so much for reading, you're a terrific friend! I love you!
(no subject)
12/9/06 02:37 am (UTC)*luffs back hard*
(no subject)
12/8/06 06:26 pm (UTC)Understanding!Kents - Also cute!!
"Shut up," he laughed. "He thanked me, you know. *He* said I saved him." Clark frowned. "It felt right, and wrong at the same time. Chloe was right-there should have been more. He remembered the vivid dream he'd had the night after and blushed hard. He shifted the bowl to cover his lap. On screen, Luthor was laughing, talking to some guy, some celebrity or another, and Clark was fascinated by his mouth, the way it moved. The sharp smile seemed to slice right into him.
"Hello-earth to Clark. You know, he's in the latest issue of Fortune. I'm sure lots of people buy it for the centerfold..."
Clark gaped at her, wondering how much the magazine cost and where he could buy it. "Really? They have a centerfold?" He pictured Lex Luthor spread out on a big...glass
desk, yeah...
- Now I know that you are all about Whit/Clark right now, and yes they are the cute...So thank, thank very much, for the Lex (destiny of future Super-Fated-One-True-LOVE) action. I know that this is not Lex's story, so I just hope that off-screen good things are happening for him and he is growing fabulously ready for Clark. Ahem...
Well at least this time the right person was watching those "cute" movies on the side of a barn with Lana.
I am glad that Clark has a friend like Chloe. Someone that he can talk to who is at least trying to tell him that maybe he deserves better then being Whitney's secret.
(no subject)
12/9/06 02:34 am (UTC)Those two-- they are Destiny, Fate, Kismet, Karma, Ment2B4evah!
(no subject)
12/8/06 06:29 pm (UTC)I'm just worried for poor Clarkie now. I've got a bad feeling about what's to come.
(no subject)
12/9/06 02:35 am (UTC)LOL!! It's not???? Damn! *makes mental note*
(no subject)
12/8/06 10:31 pm (UTC)Aww, you didn't just make Clark cry, you made me cry too. Dammit, why aren't Monathan (or Jartha?) like this on the show?
And poor Clark, in love with a closet case. Though it sort of makes up for it that Whitney was so upset that he almost died.
(no subject)
12/9/06 02:37 am (UTC)Poor Clark. He's not going to have much fun with this relationship.
(no subject)
12/9/06 01:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
12/9/06 02:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
12/10/06 03:19 am (UTC)Anyway, in my own rambly way, I'm telling you I really enjoy this story, Roxy. :)
(no subject)
12/12/06 01:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
12/13/06 12:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
12/13/06 01:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
12/12/06 07:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
12/13/06 12:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
12/13/06 01:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
2/14/07 04:48 am (UTC)Oh word and truth, roxy. You made me cry for Clark. Thank you for making your Martha and Jonathan being supportive.
And I love Chloe. LOVE her.
(love you too. I still can't believe I was so far behind in this!)
(no subject)
2/14/07 07:20 am (UTC)(no subject)
3/19/07 01:00 am (UTC)Clark gaped at her, wondering how much the magazine cost and where he could buy it. “Really? They have a centerfold?” He pictured Lex Luthor spread out on a big…glass
desk, yeah…
Hee-hee! The Clark, he makes me happy!
(no subject)
3/19/07 02:01 am (UTC)(no subject)
3/8/10 05:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
3/11/10 07:06 am (UTC)