little hobbitses!
oh, someone made the mistake of bringing the lord of the rings dvd into this household.
"but where is he leading us?"
"to rivendell, master gamgee... we're going to see the elves."
okay, i have to say, i don't remember any elves hanging around when i went to rivendell. tolkien obviously didn't do his homework very well when he wrote his so-called famous epic trilogy.
yes, so, point is... i need to wake up before 7. which means i ought to go to bed at some vaguely reasonable hour. but lord of the rings dvd + geeky fangirl does not equal going to bed at a sensible hour. alas.
i guess this is why they invented coffee.
oh, and the promised snippet: dampness and angst. is post-crush, so spoilers if you don't know whitney's dad is DEAD. (oops, was that mean? sorry.)
***
Clark stopped just inside the doorway to find Lex seated not behind his desk, but in one of the chairs facing it. He could have been gazing out the window, contemplating the rain, but somehow that seemed a little too... obvious. Not Lex's style. More likely he was staring into the middle distance, pondering his plans for world domination. Or maybe he was just thinking about tomorrow's breakfast.
Clark paused, just breathing, trying to compose himself before busting in on Lex and... Lex must have heard the indrawn breath. He turned in his chair, his face already fixed in a sharply gentle expression, mouth half-open around a teasing word -- all of which shifted, fell away to concern when he caught sight of Clark.
"What's - " he began, rising from his seat just as Clark said, "Sorry - "
"Sorry for what, Clark?" A few steps closer, gauging his distance, probably working out the social calculus in his head -- bereaved teenage boy * need for comfort / my personal space issues. Things were complex enough even before you factored in the square root of ambiguous sexuality. Lex apparently found his answer and halted an arm's length away. "Talk to me." The words jolted Clark from his thoughts, drawing a response too quickly for him to reconsider.
"I'm sorry. I don't know why I came here. I mean... I just, I needed to go somewhere after the... after Mr. Fordman's funeral. And I thought I wanted to be alone, and I was going to go to the loft, but I knew Mom or Chloe or my dad would show up. And you know, for the guy who named it my fortress of solitude, you'd think he'd respect the privacy issue a bit more."
"I think they call that parental concern." Dry humor, tinged with empathy.
"I think I call it hypocrisy." Clark blinked, shocked to hear his own voice speak such angry words. The shock must have shown on his face, judging by the expression on Lex's. "I didn't mean that," Clark said, shaking his head. "Jeez, nice going, Clark," he muttered.
"No, it was an honest statement. Don't be ashamed of telling the truth."
"I'm not. I'm ashamed of being an ungrateful... Whitney's dad is dead, Lex. They put him in the ground and I... it hurts to even think... And your dad, Lex - I have no right to talk. I'm so stupid."
Apparently recalculating the equation, Lex stepped closer. "You're not stupid, Clark. You're..." Lex reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. His eyes widened fractionally as his hand met Clark's suit jacket with an audible squishing sound. "You're soaking."
Clark let out a choked laugh, trying to keep the edge of hysteria out of his voice.
"Yeah, walking a couple miles in the rain'll do that."
"We need to dry you off," Lex said, sliding his hand down into a loose grip around Clark's wrist and leading him out into the hall. "Come on. Aren't you cold?"
***
yeah, so i figure there's a fluffy towel and a robe or a change of clothes and so forth. maybe some hot chocolate. and undoubtedly some more angst and daddy issues, because it just ain't smallville without some good daddy issues!
oh, and also - the social calculus looks much better in longhand, with the proper symbols and all. and now that i think about it, it's really more like social arithmetic, but that doesn't have the same ring. meh.
okay, i'll just watch the rest of the mines of moria, then i'll go to sleep. really.
ooh. "we now have but one choice. we must face the long dark of moria." one time i made a crack about the "long dark of macy's" when i was at the mall with my mom. i'm not sure she got it, but boy was i ever amused.
last thing: i have a miniature vampire bite on my foot. itches like crazy. L says it was probably a flea, but i'm sticking by my miniature vampire story, dangit. i think it's because i'm picturing an itty bitty version of spike struggling up over the edge of my futon so he can bite my foot. all that really matters is that i amuse myself, right?
"but where is he leading us?"
"to rivendell, master gamgee... we're going to see the elves."
okay, i have to say, i don't remember any elves hanging around when i went to rivendell. tolkien obviously didn't do his homework very well when he wrote his so-called famous epic trilogy.
yes, so, point is... i need to wake up before 7. which means i ought to go to bed at some vaguely reasonable hour. but lord of the rings dvd + geeky fangirl does not equal going to bed at a sensible hour. alas.
i guess this is why they invented coffee.
oh, and the promised snippet: dampness and angst. is post-crush, so spoilers if you don't know whitney's dad is DEAD. (oops, was that mean? sorry.)
***
Clark stopped just inside the doorway to find Lex seated not behind his desk, but in one of the chairs facing it. He could have been gazing out the window, contemplating the rain, but somehow that seemed a little too... obvious. Not Lex's style. More likely he was staring into the middle distance, pondering his plans for world domination. Or maybe he was just thinking about tomorrow's breakfast.
Clark paused, just breathing, trying to compose himself before busting in on Lex and... Lex must have heard the indrawn breath. He turned in his chair, his face already fixed in a sharply gentle expression, mouth half-open around a teasing word -- all of which shifted, fell away to concern when he caught sight of Clark.
"What's - " he began, rising from his seat just as Clark said, "Sorry - "
"Sorry for what, Clark?" A few steps closer, gauging his distance, probably working out the social calculus in his head -- bereaved teenage boy * need for comfort / my personal space issues. Things were complex enough even before you factored in the square root of ambiguous sexuality. Lex apparently found his answer and halted an arm's length away. "Talk to me." The words jolted Clark from his thoughts, drawing a response too quickly for him to reconsider.
"I'm sorry. I don't know why I came here. I mean... I just, I needed to go somewhere after the... after Mr. Fordman's funeral. And I thought I wanted to be alone, and I was going to go to the loft, but I knew Mom or Chloe or my dad would show up. And you know, for the guy who named it my fortress of solitude, you'd think he'd respect the privacy issue a bit more."
"I think they call that parental concern." Dry humor, tinged with empathy.
"I think I call it hypocrisy." Clark blinked, shocked to hear his own voice speak such angry words. The shock must have shown on his face, judging by the expression on Lex's. "I didn't mean that," Clark said, shaking his head. "Jeez, nice going, Clark," he muttered.
"No, it was an honest statement. Don't be ashamed of telling the truth."
"I'm not. I'm ashamed of being an ungrateful... Whitney's dad is dead, Lex. They put him in the ground and I... it hurts to even think... And your dad, Lex - I have no right to talk. I'm so stupid."
Apparently recalculating the equation, Lex stepped closer. "You're not stupid, Clark. You're..." Lex reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. His eyes widened fractionally as his hand met Clark's suit jacket with an audible squishing sound. "You're soaking."
Clark let out a choked laugh, trying to keep the edge of hysteria out of his voice.
"Yeah, walking a couple miles in the rain'll do that."
"We need to dry you off," Lex said, sliding his hand down into a loose grip around Clark's wrist and leading him out into the hall. "Come on. Aren't you cold?"
***
yeah, so i figure there's a fluffy towel and a robe or a change of clothes and so forth. maybe some hot chocolate. and undoubtedly some more angst and daddy issues, because it just ain't smallville without some good daddy issues!
oh, and also - the social calculus looks much better in longhand, with the proper symbols and all. and now that i think about it, it's really more like social arithmetic, but that doesn't have the same ring. meh.
okay, i'll just watch the rest of the mines of moria, then i'll go to sleep. really.
ooh. "we now have but one choice. we must face the long dark of moria." one time i made a crack about the "long dark of macy's" when i was at the mall with my mom. i'm not sure she got it, but boy was i ever amused.
last thing: i have a miniature vampire bite on my foot. itches like crazy. L says it was probably a flea, but i'm sticking by my miniature vampire story, dangit. i think it's because i'm picturing an itty bitty version of spike struggling up over the edge of my futon so he can bite my foot. all that really matters is that i amuse myself, right?