SV fic post: East of the Sun part 45
7/29/08 03:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxyTitle: East of the Sun
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Lex/Clark
Rating:PG
Word Count:2403
Summary: Lex learns about trust and love from an unlikely source.
Notes/Warnings: AU, so very AU
Fair warning, dear readers—the mistakes here are all my own. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
danceswithgary for her encouragement and of course, the lovely cover!
Hey, I'm as surprised as you are! It kind of popped up whilst I was silently cursing at the shoppers at The Job...also, I am an asshole who forgot to answer comments--will do that soonest! HUGS. I love you guys!
Practice went on as usual, even though Lex hadn't shown up, or called, or anything…Clark was a little nervous about that. It was very unlike him. In all the time he'd been a member of the band, Lex had never been really late—and he'd *never* just not shown up. Walt shrugged when he asked him, but Clark could see Walt was also on the edge of being *really* steamed—Pete hadn't come in either, and hadn't called. Despite the annoyance, Walt got it under control, and rehearsal was getting into full swing. Chloe was really on—she sounded like a nightingale, she sparkled, she cooed—all the time smiling away and finally, Walt started to smile too. Clark jumped in with Chloe and they played at little with a weird version of Green Sleeves they could never do on stage—fast as a run-away train, and alternating lines—it was a lot of fun, and the fellas in the band laughed a lot and Walt yelled a lot. It was almost like normal except….
Mr. Louis came sweeping in, tall and wide, filling the doorway like an eclipse of the sun. He paused there, waiting for the guys to wind down into silence. He was followed by Frank, his second in command. He waited serenely while Frank told them that "Mr. Louis has something to tell you," and stepped back like a herald who'd done his deed. Mr. Louis came forward, his gaze swept the room, cold and disinterested until he saw Clark, and then he smiled—anyway, his lip twitched and his eyes grew marginally warmer--he told them that he had news and none too pleasant news at that. He gravely informed them the Al-Kazar was going to be closed for a few days. Mr. Louis sounded like he always did—like a dignified funeral home director, but his obsidian eyes flashed with fury. Clark was surprised. He really thought Mr. Louis never showed any deep emotion. But then again, this was *his* kingdom the Gentlemen were messing with.
"Mr. Edge is reevaluating the Luxor and the Al-Kazar," he said, all ponderous dignity and barely concealed anger and then with a crack Clark could swear was almost audible, that veneer of civility fractured and he spat, "As if that uneducated louse on a baboon's behind has any idea what he has here. I for one would be extremely grateful never to have to deal with any of them ever. And if anyone mentions our private conversation outside this room, I intend to deny it." He smiled—Clark gaped. This was truly a day full of surprises and revelations—he'd have sworn Mr. Louis didn't know how to smile. "Gentlemen—continue. Apologies for interrupting."
Frank leapt in front of him to hold open the door. Mr. Louis turned and walked out of the room, as majestically as he'd entered it and Clark was reminded of one of those big ocean liners coming around in the harbor.
Walt rubbed the back of his head, and blew out a sharp breath. "Hunh. Well shit. I lose my ivories and licorice stick and maybe the club—that's a lot of shit for one day. Oh well--say, Chloe…"
"Yeah honey pie?" she asked, and flipped the guys the bird when they all began hooting and blowing kisses.
"I think we—whatya say we get married next weekend—can your pop make it up here?" He studied the tips of his shoes, the ceiling, his watch—
Chloe ran over and whacked his arm—"Idiot!" she yelled, and shoved him hard, and then threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. "Idiot," she mumbled.
"Ow!" He rubbed his arm, frowning down at her. "Say, what makes you such a violent dame, hunh? You almost broke my arm--and you didn't answer—"
"Yes! And yes! Oh, and there's a dress in one of Lacy's windows that'd be a perfect dress for me to get married in!"
"Oh God, woman, you're gonna climb in Lacy's window and strip a mannequin bare, aren't you?"
"Don't make me hurt you again, you goofball, you." She laughed and ran off, presumably to call her dad, and Walt grinned in satisfaction. Clark walked up behind him and murmured, "That's it? No flowers, no chocolate, no champagne…you're as romantic as a stone, man. You should go grab the future Mrs. Cook and make some love to her."
"Crap! You think so, C.C.? I mean, Chloe's a practical kind of kid…"
"Mr. Walt. She's right, you are an idiot. No girl is *that* practical."
Walt blinked. "Oookay. I guess I better run after her, then—we're done fellas—g'wan, take off! Hey, and when you see Alex," he said, and stared hard at Clark, and of course, right on the mark, Clark blushed, "tell him I said his bacon is cooked and how!" Clark nodded with a grin and started to turn away when Walt said, "Hey Clark."
Clark turned back in surprise. Clark? "…yeah, Mr. Walt?"
Walt blushed almost as red as Clark. "Me and Chloe—I'm happy as hell—hope you are too—with. I'm telling you, Alex has never been as happy as he—aaaaah, crap--I love him too. Don't make me have to kill you."
Clark beamed and nodded. He felt almost as if…he'd been granted permission to court Alex. Silly but it made him feel good, and the look Walt was giving him, so dark with concern...made him feel even better. "I promise, Walt. I'll never hurt him, ever."
Walt stared a few seconds longer, before nodding. "'Kay. Well, I gotta go stop a woman from jumping in a store window—so—"
@@@@@@
As soon as he could, Clark headed to Lex's apartment. He leaned on his doorbell, waited a bit, and leaned again. He tried shouting up to his apartment, but an elderly gentleman leaned out of his window and suggested vehemently that Clark shut the fuck up. Clark growled back, and settled down on the stoop. He closed his eyes and listened, blocking out all other sounds one by one, searching for one sound, the beat he'd made it his business to memorize because it was the one most important to him.
After a minute he was satisfied that Lex wasn't home oversleeping. He sighed, got up and trotted off down the street. Okay than, Lex wasn't home—he'd try the café.
At the café, he found out that Alex's visits hadn't been nearly as regular as they had been and did he have any idea why, Anna the owner wanted to know. She smiled at him, eyes sparkling, speculating. Clark's cheeks flushed. He could account for most of the missing days but he wasn't about to share that with her…. He left as quickly as he could.
At least he'd found out that, according to Anna, Alex had been by two days ago, picked up a coffee, but hadn't been back since. Yesterday morning, he'd called Clark, but since then, none of his friends had seen or heard from him.
There was probably no need to panic…probably.
@@@@@@
After dinner, Alex and Julian wandered down the long hallway that led to the bedrooms. They made fun of the odd paintings that hung on the wall. "Looks like someone went and ordered a few yards of ancestors," Jules snickered.
Alex barked out a surprised laugh, because that's exactly what it looked like. Constipated old men that had no apparent connection to each other. The house was like a huge doll's house—it held only imitations of life--it was the sketch of an idea of what an ancestral home looked like. The idea made him uneasy, but Jules was prattling on, skewering the pretension in a very amusing way. He had the Luthor sense of humor—maybe not quite as icy a version as his elders'.
They found their rooms, Jules first. Alex opened the door, and they both stopped in their tracks. The room Jules was given was stuffed with everything a boy could want—there was a bed made to look like a captain's bed, with a ships wheel as a head board. There were a few framed reproductions of Howard Pyle knights, and a big full color print of an NC Wyeth painting—pirates burying a treasure chest. The nautical theme continued in the curtains, the bookcases, in the dark wood dressers, also trimmed with ship's wheels. …Jules looked around and turned wide-eyes to Alex. "Gosh…this is really…babyish. What in the heck? It's like some buggy person's idea of what a kid would want." Jules shook his head, and didn’t notice Alex turn pale.
"Hey, look Lex!" Jules called out. He was going through the dresser. "There's pajamas and clothes and other stuff, all in my size." He glanced Lex's way. "It's kind of like a creepy fairy tale, hunh?" He was starting to look nervous and Alex hurried over.
"You know, I think maybe this is Uncle Morgan's idea of surprising us, and making us comfortable. It's nice of him."
"Yeah…" Jules looked not quite convinced, but Alex kept smiling and after a bit so did Jules.
The attached bathroom was also stocked. It held tooth powder, a tooth brush, comb and hair brush—everything Jules might need was in the room or the bath and it harder for Alex's to keep smiling. "Do you want me to read you a bed time story or are you too old now?"
Jules eyes filled, his lip wobbled and he flushed a deep red. "I remember you telling me stories. I missed it for a long time after you left, Lex." He took a deep shaky breath, and blinked hard. "I'd love for you to read me a story," he said, and whispered conspiratorially, "you never get too old for stories. And I'm certain it will make you feel better too."
"I imagine it will." Alex smiled despite the painful ache in his throat. He ruffled the bright red curls until Jules laughed and fended him off, laughing.
Alex read a story or two, and afterward they dissected them thoroughly, Jules pointing out all the illogical bits over Alex's protest of "It was just supposed to entertain," and then they talked about school, music…just enjoyed being together. Lex lay stretched out the length of Jules' bed, and Jules was twisted around Lex like he was afraid he'd disappear.
When his brother finally drifted off to sleep, Alex eased his arms from his neck, and quietly slipped back to his room. He turned on the lamp in the dark room and started. Wade was sitting in a chair by the bed. Waiting.
"How'd it go with the kid?"
"Fine—listen—just what the hell is the deal here? You used me to kidnap my brother. Why--*how* did you do that?"
"First of all, kidnapping's not my stick. Morgan had me pick him up. It's his plan. This is what's happening. You brother's being held for ransom. You were the bait—not part of the bundle. Morgan knows your dad could care less for you. That's why he was never interested in you like he was in some, like that Wayne kid. Old Wayne was fit to be tied when Morgan forced him to give the kid up--always had acted like the sun shone out of that boy's ass--until he got pictures of the kid with something besides the sun in it."
Wade laughed, stopped to gulp whiskey out of the glass on the table next to him. He exhaled after the deep drink, licked his lips before going on. "You all broken up because old Dad gave you the cold shoulder, hunh? And after that teacher, the one he had Morgan beat because he made you think you were something special and he didn't want you thinking that—well, Morgan didn’t give a flying fuck about you. It was bad for you, yeah? How bad do you think it was for your friend?" He picked a piece of tobacco off his lip and watched Alex squirm. "Least you thought you were in love."
He rose and pushed Alex down on the bed and took his jacket off. He slid his suspenders down over his shoulder, and took off the shoulder holster. He folded the strap under, held the bundle up and told Alex, "empty." Grinned. He set it down on a dresser, and took his shirt off, pulled his undershirt over his head. His thick oiled hair fell over his eyes.
He directed Alex to undress, and soon, he was naked at the foot of the bed. Wade walked around him, drinking, watching Alex breathe. "Lately, well, you know what his plans are…but he needed a lot of cash, quick. Fund the project. He decided it was time to use you." Wade flicked a look at him and away. "Bait."
Alex forgot he was supposed to be naked and cowed—he jerked forward, lip pulled back in a snarl. "You know this whole thing is nuts. He's nuts! He used me—you used me--"
Wade fended him off with one hand, shoved him back hard onto the bed. "Well of course. He didn't want any damage to the…" He stopped, like it'd just occurred to him that what he saw as a logical business move might not seem that way to the person stuck in the middle of it all. "And…it's kind of my fault. I was braggin' about who I had on a string and Morgan…didn’t like that. I shouldn’t—don’t know why I said anything. But he's the kind of person who sees opportunity everywhere. Nothing personal—not with you and him anyway. So, you stay here for a few days and spend time with your brother and when the money comes, your brother goes back home, safe as houses and it's all over." He looked at Alex with dragon eyes, flat and dark and completely unreadable. "Now. Go wash."
Alex walked to the bathroom like a zombie, dazed by what Wade was telling him…and what he hinted at.
"Hey."
He turned back to the man.
"Be good tonight, and maybe tomorrow, I'll give you something nice."
Alex shuddered just a little. Tomorrow, maybe he could find a way to call Clark, or Walt—someone had to be able to help his brother….
Just for fun, a department store window from the thirties…
part 46
TBC
Author: roxy
Pairings/Characters: Lex/Clark
Rating:PG
Word Count:2403
Summary: Lex learns about trust and love from an unlikely source.
Notes/Warnings: AU, so very AU
Fair warning, dear readers—the mistakes here are all my own. Thanks to
danceswithgary for her encouragement and of course, the lovely cover!Hey, I'm as surprised as you are! It kind of popped up whilst I was silently cursing at the shoppers at The Job...also, I am an asshole who forgot to answer comments--will do that soonest! HUGS. I love you guys!
Practice went on as usual, even though Lex hadn't shown up, or called, or anything…Clark was a little nervous about that. It was very unlike him. In all the time he'd been a member of the band, Lex had never been really late—and he'd *never* just not shown up. Walt shrugged when he asked him, but Clark could see Walt was also on the edge of being *really* steamed—Pete hadn't come in either, and hadn't called. Despite the annoyance, Walt got it under control, and rehearsal was getting into full swing. Chloe was really on—she sounded like a nightingale, she sparkled, she cooed—all the time smiling away and finally, Walt started to smile too. Clark jumped in with Chloe and they played at little with a weird version of Green Sleeves they could never do on stage—fast as a run-away train, and alternating lines—it was a lot of fun, and the fellas in the band laughed a lot and Walt yelled a lot. It was almost like normal except….
Mr. Louis came sweeping in, tall and wide, filling the doorway like an eclipse of the sun. He paused there, waiting for the guys to wind down into silence. He was followed by Frank, his second in command. He waited serenely while Frank told them that "Mr. Louis has something to tell you," and stepped back like a herald who'd done his deed. Mr. Louis came forward, his gaze swept the room, cold and disinterested until he saw Clark, and then he smiled—anyway, his lip twitched and his eyes grew marginally warmer--he told them that he had news and none too pleasant news at that. He gravely informed them the Al-Kazar was going to be closed for a few days. Mr. Louis sounded like he always did—like a dignified funeral home director, but his obsidian eyes flashed with fury. Clark was surprised. He really thought Mr. Louis never showed any deep emotion. But then again, this was *his* kingdom the Gentlemen were messing with.
"Mr. Edge is reevaluating the Luxor and the Al-Kazar," he said, all ponderous dignity and barely concealed anger and then with a crack Clark could swear was almost audible, that veneer of civility fractured and he spat, "As if that uneducated louse on a baboon's behind has any idea what he has here. I for one would be extremely grateful never to have to deal with any of them ever. And if anyone mentions our private conversation outside this room, I intend to deny it." He smiled—Clark gaped. This was truly a day full of surprises and revelations—he'd have sworn Mr. Louis didn't know how to smile. "Gentlemen—continue. Apologies for interrupting."
Frank leapt in front of him to hold open the door. Mr. Louis turned and walked out of the room, as majestically as he'd entered it and Clark was reminded of one of those big ocean liners coming around in the harbor.
Walt rubbed the back of his head, and blew out a sharp breath. "Hunh. Well shit. I lose my ivories and licorice stick and maybe the club—that's a lot of shit for one day. Oh well--say, Chloe…"
"Yeah honey pie?" she asked, and flipped the guys the bird when they all began hooting and blowing kisses.
"I think we—whatya say we get married next weekend—can your pop make it up here?" He studied the tips of his shoes, the ceiling, his watch—
Chloe ran over and whacked his arm—"Idiot!" she yelled, and shoved him hard, and then threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. "Idiot," she mumbled.
"Ow!" He rubbed his arm, frowning down at her. "Say, what makes you such a violent dame, hunh? You almost broke my arm--and you didn't answer—"
"Yes! And yes! Oh, and there's a dress in one of Lacy's windows that'd be a perfect dress for me to get married in!"
"Oh God, woman, you're gonna climb in Lacy's window and strip a mannequin bare, aren't you?"
"Don't make me hurt you again, you goofball, you." She laughed and ran off, presumably to call her dad, and Walt grinned in satisfaction. Clark walked up behind him and murmured, "That's it? No flowers, no chocolate, no champagne…you're as romantic as a stone, man. You should go grab the future Mrs. Cook and make some love to her."
"Crap! You think so, C.C.? I mean, Chloe's a practical kind of kid…"
"Mr. Walt. She's right, you are an idiot. No girl is *that* practical."
Walt blinked. "Oookay. I guess I better run after her, then—we're done fellas—g'wan, take off! Hey, and when you see Alex," he said, and stared hard at Clark, and of course, right on the mark, Clark blushed, "tell him I said his bacon is cooked and how!" Clark nodded with a grin and started to turn away when Walt said, "Hey Clark."
Clark turned back in surprise. Clark? "…yeah, Mr. Walt?"
Walt blushed almost as red as Clark. "Me and Chloe—I'm happy as hell—hope you are too—with. I'm telling you, Alex has never been as happy as he—aaaaah, crap--I love him too. Don't make me have to kill you."
Clark beamed and nodded. He felt almost as if…he'd been granted permission to court Alex. Silly but it made him feel good, and the look Walt was giving him, so dark with concern...made him feel even better. "I promise, Walt. I'll never hurt him, ever."
Walt stared a few seconds longer, before nodding. "'Kay. Well, I gotta go stop a woman from jumping in a store window—so—"
@@@@@@
As soon as he could, Clark headed to Lex's apartment. He leaned on his doorbell, waited a bit, and leaned again. He tried shouting up to his apartment, but an elderly gentleman leaned out of his window and suggested vehemently that Clark shut the fuck up. Clark growled back, and settled down on the stoop. He closed his eyes and listened, blocking out all other sounds one by one, searching for one sound, the beat he'd made it his business to memorize because it was the one most important to him.
After a minute he was satisfied that Lex wasn't home oversleeping. He sighed, got up and trotted off down the street. Okay than, Lex wasn't home—he'd try the café.
At the café, he found out that Alex's visits hadn't been nearly as regular as they had been and did he have any idea why, Anna the owner wanted to know. She smiled at him, eyes sparkling, speculating. Clark's cheeks flushed. He could account for most of the missing days but he wasn't about to share that with her…. He left as quickly as he could.
At least he'd found out that, according to Anna, Alex had been by two days ago, picked up a coffee, but hadn't been back since. Yesterday morning, he'd called Clark, but since then, none of his friends had seen or heard from him.
There was probably no need to panic…probably.
@@@@@@
After dinner, Alex and Julian wandered down the long hallway that led to the bedrooms. They made fun of the odd paintings that hung on the wall. "Looks like someone went and ordered a few yards of ancestors," Jules snickered.
Alex barked out a surprised laugh, because that's exactly what it looked like. Constipated old men that had no apparent connection to each other. The house was like a huge doll's house—it held only imitations of life--it was the sketch of an idea of what an ancestral home looked like. The idea made him uneasy, but Jules was prattling on, skewering the pretension in a very amusing way. He had the Luthor sense of humor—maybe not quite as icy a version as his elders'.
They found their rooms, Jules first. Alex opened the door, and they both stopped in their tracks. The room Jules was given was stuffed with everything a boy could want—there was a bed made to look like a captain's bed, with a ships wheel as a head board. There were a few framed reproductions of Howard Pyle knights, and a big full color print of an NC Wyeth painting—pirates burying a treasure chest. The nautical theme continued in the curtains, the bookcases, in the dark wood dressers, also trimmed with ship's wheels. …Jules looked around and turned wide-eyes to Alex. "Gosh…this is really…babyish. What in the heck? It's like some buggy person's idea of what a kid would want." Jules shook his head, and didn’t notice Alex turn pale.
"Hey, look Lex!" Jules called out. He was going through the dresser. "There's pajamas and clothes and other stuff, all in my size." He glanced Lex's way. "It's kind of like a creepy fairy tale, hunh?" He was starting to look nervous and Alex hurried over.
"You know, I think maybe this is Uncle Morgan's idea of surprising us, and making us comfortable. It's nice of him."
"Yeah…" Jules looked not quite convinced, but Alex kept smiling and after a bit so did Jules.
The attached bathroom was also stocked. It held tooth powder, a tooth brush, comb and hair brush—everything Jules might need was in the room or the bath and it harder for Alex's to keep smiling. "Do you want me to read you a bed time story or are you too old now?"
Jules eyes filled, his lip wobbled and he flushed a deep red. "I remember you telling me stories. I missed it for a long time after you left, Lex." He took a deep shaky breath, and blinked hard. "I'd love for you to read me a story," he said, and whispered conspiratorially, "you never get too old for stories. And I'm certain it will make you feel better too."
"I imagine it will." Alex smiled despite the painful ache in his throat. He ruffled the bright red curls until Jules laughed and fended him off, laughing.
Alex read a story or two, and afterward they dissected them thoroughly, Jules pointing out all the illogical bits over Alex's protest of "It was just supposed to entertain," and then they talked about school, music…just enjoyed being together. Lex lay stretched out the length of Jules' bed, and Jules was twisted around Lex like he was afraid he'd disappear.
When his brother finally drifted off to sleep, Alex eased his arms from his neck, and quietly slipped back to his room. He turned on the lamp in the dark room and started. Wade was sitting in a chair by the bed. Waiting.
"How'd it go with the kid?"
"Fine—listen—just what the hell is the deal here? You used me to kidnap my brother. Why--*how* did you do that?"
"First of all, kidnapping's not my stick. Morgan had me pick him up. It's his plan. This is what's happening. You brother's being held for ransom. You were the bait—not part of the bundle. Morgan knows your dad could care less for you. That's why he was never interested in you like he was in some, like that Wayne kid. Old Wayne was fit to be tied when Morgan forced him to give the kid up--always had acted like the sun shone out of that boy's ass--until he got pictures of the kid with something besides the sun in it."
Wade laughed, stopped to gulp whiskey out of the glass on the table next to him. He exhaled after the deep drink, licked his lips before going on. "You all broken up because old Dad gave you the cold shoulder, hunh? And after that teacher, the one he had Morgan beat because he made you think you were something special and he didn't want you thinking that—well, Morgan didn’t give a flying fuck about you. It was bad for you, yeah? How bad do you think it was for your friend?" He picked a piece of tobacco off his lip and watched Alex squirm. "Least you thought you were in love."
He rose and pushed Alex down on the bed and took his jacket off. He slid his suspenders down over his shoulder, and took off the shoulder holster. He folded the strap under, held the bundle up and told Alex, "empty." Grinned. He set it down on a dresser, and took his shirt off, pulled his undershirt over his head. His thick oiled hair fell over his eyes.
He directed Alex to undress, and soon, he was naked at the foot of the bed. Wade walked around him, drinking, watching Alex breathe. "Lately, well, you know what his plans are…but he needed a lot of cash, quick. Fund the project. He decided it was time to use you." Wade flicked a look at him and away. "Bait."
Alex forgot he was supposed to be naked and cowed—he jerked forward, lip pulled back in a snarl. "You know this whole thing is nuts. He's nuts! He used me—you used me--"
Wade fended him off with one hand, shoved him back hard onto the bed. "Well of course. He didn't want any damage to the…" He stopped, like it'd just occurred to him that what he saw as a logical business move might not seem that way to the person stuck in the middle of it all. "And…it's kind of my fault. I was braggin' about who I had on a string and Morgan…didn’t like that. I shouldn’t—don’t know why I said anything. But he's the kind of person who sees opportunity everywhere. Nothing personal—not with you and him anyway. So, you stay here for a few days and spend time with your brother and when the money comes, your brother goes back home, safe as houses and it's all over." He looked at Alex with dragon eyes, flat and dark and completely unreadable. "Now. Go wash."
Alex walked to the bathroom like a zombie, dazed by what Wade was telling him…and what he hinted at.
"Hey."
He turned back to the man.
"Be good tonight, and maybe tomorrow, I'll give you something nice."
Alex shuddered just a little. Tomorrow, maybe he could find a way to call Clark, or Walt—someone had to be able to help his brother….
Just for fun, a department store window from the thirties…
part 46
TBC
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