Stocking Stuffer #6: Gloves and Mittens and Scarves, Oh My!
Clexmas Stocking Stuffer #6: Gloves and Mittens and Scarves, Oh My!
His empty pockets distracted him for a few minutes as he was leaving his office. Lex frowned before trying to shrug it away, though he had a clear memory of putting his gloves in his pockets after entering the plant that morning. As he walked past shadowed cubicles he briefly wondered what a meteor-affected person might need with his leather gloves, but the thought didn't really warrant consideration. Not when it was so late in the evening and there was no one around but Lex and the conspicuously lax security.
Lex's steps stopped at the exit, hands at his side, a niggling fear keeping him from pressing the release and stepping out into the chill of the December night. He looked back along the stretch of hallway he'd traversed, but there was nothing sinister about the visible spaces.
With a sigh at his own cowardice, Lex took out his cellphone and checked battery power and signal, then gripped it tight in his bare hand as he opened the door. The lights along the perimeter of the building shone down on a parking lot empty of everything but his car and a new inch of snow.
His eyes narrowed when he realized that his car was the only surface free of snow. Given that flakes were still falling steadily, the person responsible had been there just a few minutes before. The fact that there were no footprints around it narrowed down the possibilities quite a bit, but not all of the options remaining were safe or welcome.
Lex stepped into the blanket of snow on the ground and let the door swing shut behind him. His phone vibrated in his hand and he took a careful look around before glancing at the display - the landline at the farm - and answering. "Did you run off with my gloves?"
"Um." Clark sounded just the right amount of guilty that Lex had his answer. There was a thump and a whirl of noise. Lex waited patiently, unsurprised when the wind picked up around him moments later, stirring a breeze against his cheek and ruffling his coat. A moment after that, Lex pulled his gloves from his pocket. On the phone, Clark continued, "I don't have your gloves, Lex."
"You have a curfew," Lex reminded him, pulling the warm leather over his hands, using his shoulder and cheek to hold the phone.
"And I'm abiding by it," Clark said firmly. Adamantly. Another pause, this one disrupted only by the static of poor reception. "Mostly."
"My gloves, Clark." Lex tsked, even as he raised a hand to his nose. Leather and sweat and the lightest hint of Clark's sex. He used that hand to hold the phone and raised the other to his nose, finding the smells stronger there.
Clark's inhale was audible. "Are you sniffing them?"
Lex smirked as he unlocked his car. A quick check inside proved it free of unwelcome guests, leaving him to slide into his seat and shut and lock the door. "You're grounded, Clark."
"You sound like my parents," Clark grumbled.
"Be glad I'm not lecturing you on theft. I still haven't recovered my scarf."
"Sorry," Clark said, sounding honestly apologetic. "I meant to leave mine."
"And my gloves?" Lex asked, leaning back against the seat, the car sitting silent around him.
"I could make you mittens," Clark offered.
Lex considered that, but apart from the fact that he was fond of his driving gloves, "These smell like you."
"Lex," Clark drawled in a whine.
"You're grounded and it's past curfew."
"You can still come here," Clark reminded him. "For another hour. And six minutes."
"With my gloves smelling like your spunk?"
"I'll have the mittens done by the time you get here," Clark promised. Seeming to take Lex's silence as agreement, he closed with, "I'll see you soon, Lex."
Lex put his phone in his pocket and let his head rest against the seat for a moment, giving thought to what his life was like when an alien was the best of all possible options. He smiled as his fingers curled over the steering wheel. Within moments, he was leaving a lone trail of tire tracks in his wake as he headed toward the bright promise of the farm and Clark.
His empty pockets distracted him for a few minutes as he was leaving his office. Lex frowned before trying to shrug it away, though he had a clear memory of putting his gloves in his pockets after entering the plant that morning. As he walked past shadowed cubicles he briefly wondered what a meteor-affected person might need with his leather gloves, but the thought didn't really warrant consideration. Not when it was so late in the evening and there was no one around but Lex and the conspicuously lax security.
Lex's steps stopped at the exit, hands at his side, a niggling fear keeping him from pressing the release and stepping out into the chill of the December night. He looked back along the stretch of hallway he'd traversed, but there was nothing sinister about the visible spaces.
With a sigh at his own cowardice, Lex took out his cellphone and checked battery power and signal, then gripped it tight in his bare hand as he opened the door. The lights along the perimeter of the building shone down on a parking lot empty of everything but his car and a new inch of snow.
His eyes narrowed when he realized that his car was the only surface free of snow. Given that flakes were still falling steadily, the person responsible had been there just a few minutes before. The fact that there were no footprints around it narrowed down the possibilities quite a bit, but not all of the options remaining were safe or welcome.
Lex stepped into the blanket of snow on the ground and let the door swing shut behind him. His phone vibrated in his hand and he took a careful look around before glancing at the display - the landline at the farm - and answering. "Did you run off with my gloves?"
"Um." Clark sounded just the right amount of guilty that Lex had his answer. There was a thump and a whirl of noise. Lex waited patiently, unsurprised when the wind picked up around him moments later, stirring a breeze against his cheek and ruffling his coat. A moment after that, Lex pulled his gloves from his pocket. On the phone, Clark continued, "I don't have your gloves, Lex."
"You have a curfew," Lex reminded him, pulling the warm leather over his hands, using his shoulder and cheek to hold the phone.
"And I'm abiding by it," Clark said firmly. Adamantly. Another pause, this one disrupted only by the static of poor reception. "Mostly."
"My gloves, Clark." Lex tsked, even as he raised a hand to his nose. Leather and sweat and the lightest hint of Clark's sex. He used that hand to hold the phone and raised the other to his nose, finding the smells stronger there.
Clark's inhale was audible. "Are you sniffing them?"
Lex smirked as he unlocked his car. A quick check inside proved it free of unwelcome guests, leaving him to slide into his seat and shut and lock the door. "You're grounded, Clark."
"You sound like my parents," Clark grumbled.
"Be glad I'm not lecturing you on theft. I still haven't recovered my scarf."
"Sorry," Clark said, sounding honestly apologetic. "I meant to leave mine."
"And my gloves?" Lex asked, leaning back against the seat, the car sitting silent around him.
"I could make you mittens," Clark offered.
Lex considered that, but apart from the fact that he was fond of his driving gloves, "These smell like you."
"Lex," Clark drawled in a whine.
"You're grounded and it's past curfew."
"You can still come here," Clark reminded him. "For another hour. And six minutes."
"With my gloves smelling like your spunk?"
"I'll have the mittens done by the time you get here," Clark promised. Seeming to take Lex's silence as agreement, he closed with, "I'll see you soon, Lex."
Lex put his phone in his pocket and let his head rest against the seat for a moment, giving thought to what his life was like when an alien was the best of all possible options. He smiled as his fingers curled over the steering wheel. Within moments, he was leaving a lone trail of tire tracks in his wake as he headed toward the bright promise of the farm and Clark.