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sv fic post: East of the Sun prt3
Title: East of the Sun
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Lex/people, eventually clex
Rating:G
Word Count: 1533
Summary: Lex learns about trust and love from an unlikely source.
Notes/Warnings: this is me putting the boys in my version of the swing era, just to see how pretty they look.
Many, many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
danceswithgary for beta duty, and the beautiful cover!
Walt had some trouble with some of the guys. Some resented moving out of a pretty hot spot and into a club so far below the venues they had played that calling it a dump was insulting a dump. Some of them didn’t want to play with a colored on the same stage with them, but only one guy dropped out of the band. Pete worked hard, took shit and kept going, and after a while, it was like he'd always been there, just one of the guys and besides, Walt went and told them up front he didn’t give a god damn what they thought—they were being paid to shut the fuck up and play. And they played. Some nights they got booed off the stage. When the booing stopped, it didn't mean the end of it--some nights garbage would come flying up on the stage, or ropes…Pete just locked his eyes on some point and blew, he made the ivories dance and the crowd had to give in to him. He made them jump, he did, and the band, and Alex…they had the crowds in the palm of their hands. When Pete was blowing, he had their souls, Alex thought, and laughed…
Pete Ross and Alex Roth made the stage hot—and word spread that the Barrelhouse was jumping, the place to be.
Morty was at Walt like a tick on a dog, yapping about profit, cash in and more cash out, but soon he had to admit that the low rent, seedy joint was making him money like his uptown venues. He had to relent, and it wasn't long before they headlined the Al Kazar again.
Alex watched Pete deal with a thousand daily injustices with calm and dignity even though he had to be boiling inside, and came to the conclusion that Pete Ross was one brave man. Brave for putting up with the mugs and thugs, the squares who couldn't dig what he was saying, brave enough to take it, ignore it and keep on going. Pete became a point of interest to Alex. That calm acceptance made him curious. And things that made Alex curious had to be examined, turned and shaken until the answer fell out. He told himself it was for the good of their working relationship, but mostly, he just wanted to know.
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"Pete."
Pete was shuffling his papers, just getting up from the piano. "You want something, Alex? I'm about to call it a night, grab some dinner and cop a nod. But, hey, if you need something I don't mind staying."
"Nah, I figured if you're going to eat, I'd go with you."
Pete stared at him like he'd lost his damn mind. He drew himself up and stiffly said, "You…I don't think you'd be comfortable, Mr. Alex."
"Alex. And why not?"
Pete looked away, and back. He stared at a point between Alex's second and third shirt button. "I'm eating with family. At home. My mom's house. I don’t think..."
"Well." Alex smiled slowly. "It's been a good long while since I've had a home-cooked meal. I sure wouldn't mind." He grinned, correctly reading Pete's expression as fuck, I'm stuck with the crazy bastard.
"Okay. I guess Ma won't mind. Too much."
Alex nodded. "Should I bring wine? Flowers?"
Pete stared some more. "Um. We don't. Ma don’t...if you like. "
Alex grinned. He liked the way Pete looked when he panicked. He wondered what he looked like when he was very happy….
They walked a couple of blocks past the hotels, down towards the colored part of town. Alex noticed he got more looks than usual. He didn’t know how he felt that this time it wasn't so much because he was bald but because he was white.
Pete led him up to the door of a neat, well-kept brownstone. The porch steps were clean swept; there were gingham curtains in the windows. Pete opened the door and hesitated for a minute, before sighing. "Okay," he said, and gestured for Alex to walk inside and it hit him—he was about to enter a home of the sort he'd never been in before. He had no idea how to act, or how they acted or even what they ate. He might have been rash—impulsive…stupid even, not that he intended to let it show in any aspect of his behavior. He drew himself up to his full height and looked down on Pete with a lopsided smile. "Lead on, oh Piano."
Pete stopped, and—smiled. His cheeks tightened, his eyes crinkled and for once his mouth held a real smile. He looked Alex right in the eyes and Alex was kind of stunned. Pete was really a looker, when he relaxed... "After you, oh Clarinet," Pete said.
They stepped into a neat little tile floored foyer, and Pete showed Alex where to hang his coat, on hooks screwed into the wall. He led him into a dining room filled with heavy dark furniture, ornately carved and black with age. At the head of a long table sat an older man, at his side a stately looking woman, and along the length of the table, two young men and a girl—Pete's family.
All eyes were locked on him and Alex felt a lot like he had that month he'd spent in Metro Children's Hospital, surrounded by doctors who wanted to know what made him tick. He summoned all the charm he possessed, and smiled… "Hello all, I'm Alex and I'm pleased to finally meet Pete's family." He held out the bunch of roses he'd bought on the way over to the stunned woman. "And you must be Pete's mother. You're even lovelier than he described."
Pete looked at him with pure shock on his face; he was the very picture of a man who'd been hit by a Mack truck.
"Mr. Alex is it? We’re so pleased to have you here, though if Pete had given us some warning, we would have had something more—suitable for dinner." She gave Pete a look that promised pain, pure and simple, and lots of it. "Pete," she said, "get some water for those flowers, honey." Alex clearly heard the unspoken, "they’ll be needed for your funeral later."
"Pete…." Alex started.
Pete ignored him and gathered up the roses. Alex realized that he'd actually put Pete and his mom in a touchy situation. He felt a pang of guilt.
Dinner was an odd affair, full of little conversational balloons that rose hopefully, turned to lead, and crashed. Alex kept smiling and eating. He loved cornbread and greens. He closed his eyes and sighed. He'd never felt so full before, a good full. He opened them to peep Pete's little sis staring at him, the minute their eyes met she blushed bright red and giggled.
Pete's brothers just stared at him as they ate. The two of them made a massive wall of scowling black man. Lex gulped his sweet tea and tried to look everywhere but at them.
Was it wrong to think that they were hot to beat the band? There he went…thinking thoughts like that at Pete's mother's table…he really should be ashamed. He looked some more. He really should be. One of the brothers snorted, and finally turned his attention away. The other smiled just the tiniest bit and asked Alex if he'd like more black-eyed peas. He jerked his head up and down, and caught Pete's astonished look. Pete closed his mouth and shook his head. Alex hoped that meant something good.
After dinner, he played cards with them, and surprised himself by having a good time. Pete's little sis—Katie—kept his glass filled, and nearly heated the room with her blushing. At last Alex took pity on her and mentioned the early morning practice to Pete, and they gathered their coats and hats and set off for the hotel. Alex Promised Mrs. Ross he'd be back.
"Thank you so much for having me, Mrs. Ross, Mr. Ross."
Pete's dad looked surprised and a little uncomfortable, but he managed a pretty decent smile back. "It was our pleasure, Mr. Alex. You're welcome back anytime."
They were halfway down the block before Alex asked Pete, "Did they mean it, you think? Would they mind if I came back?"
"Course not, Alex. They mean it, you’re welcome back anytime. I know Katie sure wants to have you back," Pete laughed. "And…strangely enough, looks like Simon wants you back too." Pete looked thoughtful, and shrugged. They walked back towards the subway. They rode back quietly, and Alex walked Pete to the boarding house he stayed in, a subway stop away from the one the rest of the band stayed. Alex hesitated on the stoop of the boarding house. "Pete…does your family know you're in the life?"
"Ah—what? Hell no. I'm not—ah shit." Pete rubbed his hands over his face. "You're troublesome. Is that your hobby?"
"Making trouble for innocent boys? Yeah. So, can I come up?"
"Trouble, that should be your name. All right, come up. Behave yourself."
"Come on. Behave's my middle name, Pete."
part 4
TBC
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Lex/people, eventually clex
Rating:G
Word Count: 1533
Summary: Lex learns about trust and love from an unlikely source.
Notes/Warnings: this is me putting the boys in my version of the swing era, just to see how pretty they look.
Many, many thanks to
danceswithgary for beta duty, and the beautiful cover!Walt had some trouble with some of the guys. Some resented moving out of a pretty hot spot and into a club so far below the venues they had played that calling it a dump was insulting a dump. Some of them didn’t want to play with a colored on the same stage with them, but only one guy dropped out of the band. Pete worked hard, took shit and kept going, and after a while, it was like he'd always been there, just one of the guys and besides, Walt went and told them up front he didn’t give a god damn what they thought—they were being paid to shut the fuck up and play. And they played. Some nights they got booed off the stage. When the booing stopped, it didn't mean the end of it--some nights garbage would come flying up on the stage, or ropes…Pete just locked his eyes on some point and blew, he made the ivories dance and the crowd had to give in to him. He made them jump, he did, and the band, and Alex…they had the crowds in the palm of their hands. When Pete was blowing, he had their souls, Alex thought, and laughed…
Pete Ross and Alex Roth made the stage hot—and word spread that the Barrelhouse was jumping, the place to be.
Morty was at Walt like a tick on a dog, yapping about profit, cash in and more cash out, but soon he had to admit that the low rent, seedy joint was making him money like his uptown venues. He had to relent, and it wasn't long before they headlined the Al Kazar again.
Alex watched Pete deal with a thousand daily injustices with calm and dignity even though he had to be boiling inside, and came to the conclusion that Pete Ross was one brave man. Brave for putting up with the mugs and thugs, the squares who couldn't dig what he was saying, brave enough to take it, ignore it and keep on going. Pete became a point of interest to Alex. That calm acceptance made him curious. And things that made Alex curious had to be examined, turned and shaken until the answer fell out. He told himself it was for the good of their working relationship, but mostly, he just wanted to know.
@@@@@@
"Pete."
Pete was shuffling his papers, just getting up from the piano. "You want something, Alex? I'm about to call it a night, grab some dinner and cop a nod. But, hey, if you need something I don't mind staying."
"Nah, I figured if you're going to eat, I'd go with you."
Pete stared at him like he'd lost his damn mind. He drew himself up and stiffly said, "You…I don't think you'd be comfortable, Mr. Alex."
"Alex. And why not?"
Pete looked away, and back. He stared at a point between Alex's second and third shirt button. "I'm eating with family. At home. My mom's house. I don’t think..."
"Well." Alex smiled slowly. "It's been a good long while since I've had a home-cooked meal. I sure wouldn't mind." He grinned, correctly reading Pete's expression as fuck, I'm stuck with the crazy bastard.
"Okay. I guess Ma won't mind. Too much."
Alex nodded. "Should I bring wine? Flowers?"
Pete stared some more. "Um. We don't. Ma don’t...if you like. "
Alex grinned. He liked the way Pete looked when he panicked. He wondered what he looked like when he was very happy….
They walked a couple of blocks past the hotels, down towards the colored part of town. Alex noticed he got more looks than usual. He didn’t know how he felt that this time it wasn't so much because he was bald but because he was white.
Pete led him up to the door of a neat, well-kept brownstone. The porch steps were clean swept; there were gingham curtains in the windows. Pete opened the door and hesitated for a minute, before sighing. "Okay," he said, and gestured for Alex to walk inside and it hit him—he was about to enter a home of the sort he'd never been in before. He had no idea how to act, or how they acted or even what they ate. He might have been rash—impulsive…stupid even, not that he intended to let it show in any aspect of his behavior. He drew himself up to his full height and looked down on Pete with a lopsided smile. "Lead on, oh Piano."
Pete stopped, and—smiled. His cheeks tightened, his eyes crinkled and for once his mouth held a real smile. He looked Alex right in the eyes and Alex was kind of stunned. Pete was really a looker, when he relaxed... "After you, oh Clarinet," Pete said.
They stepped into a neat little tile floored foyer, and Pete showed Alex where to hang his coat, on hooks screwed into the wall. He led him into a dining room filled with heavy dark furniture, ornately carved and black with age. At the head of a long table sat an older man, at his side a stately looking woman, and along the length of the table, two young men and a girl—Pete's family.
All eyes were locked on him and Alex felt a lot like he had that month he'd spent in Metro Children's Hospital, surrounded by doctors who wanted to know what made him tick. He summoned all the charm he possessed, and smiled… "Hello all, I'm Alex and I'm pleased to finally meet Pete's family." He held out the bunch of roses he'd bought on the way over to the stunned woman. "And you must be Pete's mother. You're even lovelier than he described."
Pete looked at him with pure shock on his face; he was the very picture of a man who'd been hit by a Mack truck.
"Mr. Alex is it? We’re so pleased to have you here, though if Pete had given us some warning, we would have had something more—suitable for dinner." She gave Pete a look that promised pain, pure and simple, and lots of it. "Pete," she said, "get some water for those flowers, honey." Alex clearly heard the unspoken, "they’ll be needed for your funeral later."
"Pete…." Alex started.
Pete ignored him and gathered up the roses. Alex realized that he'd actually put Pete and his mom in a touchy situation. He felt a pang of guilt.
Dinner was an odd affair, full of little conversational balloons that rose hopefully, turned to lead, and crashed. Alex kept smiling and eating. He loved cornbread and greens. He closed his eyes and sighed. He'd never felt so full before, a good full. He opened them to peep Pete's little sis staring at him, the minute their eyes met she blushed bright red and giggled.
Pete's brothers just stared at him as they ate. The two of them made a massive wall of scowling black man. Lex gulped his sweet tea and tried to look everywhere but at them.
Was it wrong to think that they were hot to beat the band? There he went…thinking thoughts like that at Pete's mother's table…he really should be ashamed. He looked some more. He really should be. One of the brothers snorted, and finally turned his attention away. The other smiled just the tiniest bit and asked Alex if he'd like more black-eyed peas. He jerked his head up and down, and caught Pete's astonished look. Pete closed his mouth and shook his head. Alex hoped that meant something good.
After dinner, he played cards with them, and surprised himself by having a good time. Pete's little sis—Katie—kept his glass filled, and nearly heated the room with her blushing. At last Alex took pity on her and mentioned the early morning practice to Pete, and they gathered their coats and hats and set off for the hotel. Alex Promised Mrs. Ross he'd be back.
"Thank you so much for having me, Mrs. Ross, Mr. Ross."
Pete's dad looked surprised and a little uncomfortable, but he managed a pretty decent smile back. "It was our pleasure, Mr. Alex. You're welcome back anytime."
They were halfway down the block before Alex asked Pete, "Did they mean it, you think? Would they mind if I came back?"
"Course not, Alex. They mean it, you’re welcome back anytime. I know Katie sure wants to have you back," Pete laughed. "And…strangely enough, looks like Simon wants you back too." Pete looked thoughtful, and shrugged. They walked back towards the subway. They rode back quietly, and Alex walked Pete to the boarding house he stayed in, a subway stop away from the one the rest of the band stayed. Alex hesitated on the stoop of the boarding house. "Pete…does your family know you're in the life?"
"Ah—what? Hell no. I'm not—ah shit." Pete rubbed his hands over his face. "You're troublesome. Is that your hobby?"
"Making trouble for innocent boys? Yeah. So, can I come up?"
"Trouble, that should be your name. All right, come up. Behave yourself."
"Come on. Behave's my middle name, Pete."
part 4
TBC
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:)
I love Alex's moment of 'how do i act, what do they *eat*!', as if he's walking into a house of aliens or something. Scary how people thought that...
Good stuff, bay-bee!
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Scary how people thought that
*nodnod* and so sad that it's the 21st century and some folks still think that.
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:)
*smoooch*
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I'm working on the next new bit--can you let me know when you have time to brainstorm it a little and check what I've got written?
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He grinned, correctly reading Pete's expression as fuck, I'm stuck with the crazy bastard.
HAHA. Lex is such a rascal here!
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"Come on. Behave's my middle name, Pete."
As if! Behave badly, maybe. This is Lex we're talking about after all!
Can't wait to see the next bit!
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I can promise you, Lex will misbehave! *wink*
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I just love how Alex and Pete are -- dare I say it, and risk a jinx?-- starting to become friends. A nice change from the show, let me tell ya! As ever, your attention to all the details is what really gets me into your writing.
Pete looked at him with pure shock on his face; he was the very picture of a man who'd been hit by a Mack truck.
I loved that bit. I can totally picture that look. Great job!
Sidenote: I think I read somewhere that our 'Pete' is going to be doing a guest spot on Smallville sometime soon. Have you heard that?
P. Sidenote: Check it out -- I posted chapter seventeen (I think you'll like where this one is going *wink*)
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Pete and Lex are on the way to being friends--and just friends. *hinthint*
I get such a kick out of writing Pete. He's just fun to do, and because of the way they used(underused) him on the show, he's more of a blank canvas than the other characters.
Basically we get that he's fairly loyal, likes to think he's a ladies' man and has a sense fo humor. Also that he has a build to die for, adn he nad Clark really couldn't stand around shirtless together because sorry Clark--omg. But that's shallow. *G*
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Oh, God. Season one -- Leech. Shirtless Pete. Mmmmmm *drools on keyboard* mmmmm. . .
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*BLINK*
Oy...obviously I didn't spell-check that!
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GUH!
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it's always a pleasure to see you write pete. :)
*blushes* Thanks!
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Gosh, this cracked me up!
I *loved* Alex going to the Rosses and it going well, despite Mom's threat to Pete's life, mwahaha!
Now my oh my, what trouble could they *possibly* get into?
;D
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Trouble, goodness, what ever do you mean? *G*
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Clark's coming, I swear!
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More might be *very* soon in coming--as long as it's perking, I should take advantage! *G*
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what does that mean?
in the life??
otherwise, this was kind of an interesting interaction!
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In the old days, "in the life" meant being gay. I love the phrase myself, I think it's kind of an elegant way to ask if a person's gay. I don't know much more about it than that--I don't know if it was a happy phrase or a sad one.
I'm glad you found it interesting! Hope you find the next bit interesting too! ;)
meant being gay
of course, part of the fascination is , that i am also not white, while living in a country, that is still whiter than US *g*.
i remember a certain childhood white german friend, who did have trouble with my family, as we were not white, when she was visiting me. those are fascinating memories ;)
i dont know how it is, or was , to be black in america, but i do know how it is to not being white in germany :D
Re: meant being gay
oh, it *is* a lot like that! I was friends with a white girl for years, we were best friends for a long time and I don't think her family ever got over it. *g*
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bhahah
I love the language in that sentence there.
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It made me smile and that's really a great feeling
that's the best thing in the world to hear!
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Heee! Trouble for innocent boys! I want more trouble and more bottom-lip quivering innocence! *scampers off to the next part*
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