Hold On Tight -- Variations on a Theme (1/2)
Here are three of the prompts I received, with another batch still being tweaked. As the Title states: the theme I used for all three was 'Hold On Tight.' :)
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I will request something private between Kal and Lex, which does not need to equal anything smutty. Actually non-smutty would be preferred given these guys. Just something... important and meaningful that they would never dream of sharing with anyone other than the other person. - me_ya_ri
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Disclaimer: ‘Smallville’ and certain characters belong to Miller-Gough et al. No profit is gained from this writing, only, hopefully, enjoyment.
For the thousandth time, he considers whether or not his pride will spell his downfall. (God, don't think about downfall, he chides himself. Down and. . . fall. Falling.)
Lex takes another deep breath and closes his eyes. He's placed one hand against the rough stone of the wall, all that he'll allow himself to do, but it's still not anywhere near enough to curb (oh, Jesus, curbs) the nearly overwhelming anxiety. His nerves are already shot and he's still on solid ground. This is not a good idea.
He honestly doesn't know if he has it in him to. . . go through with this. He's going to make a fool of himself saying no, but right now that sounds infinitely more appealing than the alternative.
Suddenly there's a large hand on his shoulder, and Lex bites the inside of his cheek in order not to flinch or gasp in surprise.
He gets a quiet "Hey" and then the hand's mate is sliding up Lex's other arm.
"Hey," Lex offers in return, and it's not embarrassingly breathy like he'd feared it would be. So he may be terrified right at the moment, but he doesn't sound like it. That's good. That's something.
Another handful of seconds pass in windy, chill silence, and normally he'd be thankful for it, but right now it seems out of place. They're both here on Lex's balcony for a reason, and the longer the wait the more obvious the tension. Besides, there's really no point in Lex trying to hide anything. Lord knows, Kal can probably pick up on fear miles away. Maybe he can hear it.
"We don't need to do this," Kal whispers into Lex's ear. The wind this high up (68 floors and counting, Lex thinks before he can stop himself) is incredibly loud, and yet Kal's voice cuts through the noise with no trouble at all. He's warm, too. Just his hands on top of Lex's coat are sending waves of heat throughout his body.
"It's not a big deal," Kal adds, "too cold, anyway." His hands start rubbing Lex's arms briskly, and somehow there's not even a trace of sarcasm or knowing amusement or mockery in Kal's voice when he whispers, "Wouldn't want you to get sick, or something."
And that's when Lex knows he's going to do it, going to go through with it, is able to. That's the moment he remembers he wants to. Kal gives him an out, a very nice, gentlemanly out, and Lex can smile and turn around to face him. He can take his hand off the solid wall he'd (let's face it) been clinging to before and just. . . enjoy this.
"No way," Lex declares, and he sets about taking this moment and turning it into something warmer and deeper -- a memory. Kal's arms are still up and around him, so Lex slides his own down, moving them around Kal's waist. "You're not getting out of this that easily," he adds, smiling so it won't be taken the wrong way.
And Kal's mouth turns up in the corners sure enough, but his eyes are what Lex really focuses on.
"Step onto my feet," Kal tells him quietly, and Lex does so. "Now. . . " he whispers, and Lex can already feel something's changed, "hold on tight." Kal suddenly grins then, saying, "Don't look down, Lex."
"Holy fuck!" Lex shouts, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his fingers into Kal's back as he pulls him closer in an attempt not to fall down, down, down. . . down, right onto the streets of the city now miles below them.
Little things slowly start popping back up through Lex's panic, and eventually he's able to open his eyes again. Kal's warmth is overwhelming, as is the sheer. . . solidity of him. Lex can hear the noise of the city now, too, the myriad sounds of traffic and everyday people going about their everyday routines, while Lex is fucking floating in the sky above them.
"What do you think?" Kal eventually whispers to him, once they're drifting over the river and the bridge. Lex is looking down when it's said, but he darts his eyes up to Kal's face after. The mouth is crooked still, but he knows where to look for the truth.
Lex smiles, and doesn't think the two of them can actually get any physically closer but he tries anyway. "It's amazing," he whispers back, tightening his arms around Kal as hard as he can.
And those eyes Lex has been focusing on this whole time scrunch up at the corners, and he doesn't get a reply because suddenly their mouths are both too busy to say anything else.
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Can I request a day in the park with little Lex, Lin and Lillian? Something sweet and short for the boys to remember her. - gummibearthief
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It was difficult to keep a straight face, to stop herself from reaching out and hanging onto them both. Alexander was doing an admirable job with the little boy, and they did look darling together, but she also found it somewhat of a. . . novel experience, and that made her cautious. Her little prince, often so uncertain and terribly desperate for any sort of validation or reassurance, was now confidently telling this small child the ins and outs of a merry-go-round. She didn't quite know what to make of it, truthfully.
She'd never been prouder of her son than in this moment. Alexander was the soul of kindness and generosity with little Colin, always suggesting ways to make the child more comfortable and welcome.
"Here," he was saying to the little boy, "climb up there. Yeah," and Alexander held Colin's hand as he too moved onto the merry-go-round after him. "See?" Alexander asked, bending over a little to look the boy in the face. "It's nice, right? And it has all these hand-holds to hang onto. You just wrap yourself around one or two and. . . hang on, while it spins."
Lillian watched a discreet distance away as Colin turned his head to whisper something to Alexander. Such a quiet child, that one, and she couldn't put it down to any specific behaviors, but little Colin was also. . . very worrying to her, in general. The more she thought on it, the more certain it seemed that that little boy over there was showing textbook signs of trauma, even grief. She was no psychiatrist or therapist, but she damned well knew what sadness and depression looked like, and that poor child over there. . .
Well, it made her remember why she'd married Lionel. To take in such a child and adopt him, offer him so much and in the process give their Alexander some much needed self-confidence? Lionel was a good man underneath. He didn't let anyone see, not even Lillian apart from a handful of occasions, but Lionel was capable of so much generosity when he just set his mind to it. He did good things all the time, and mostly for the right reasons. He'd brought Colin into their home. He'd provided a wonderful life for Lillian and Alexander, and during the bad times. . . well, they'd always had only the best doctors at hand. Lionel wasn't afraid to spend that money of his, not on her and not on their son. And now, Colin was part of the family, too. They'd all love him, and maybe someday soon the poor thing would overcome that dark cloud of his. Alexander's was already dissipating. She saw him smile every day now, bright, real smiles, and it hadn't been so long ago that she'd thought her son incapable of ever being happy again.
"She will," Alexander said, and Lillian blinked and focused back on her boys in the here and now. Alexander was looking at her, that knowing little smile of his on his face, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what was expected of Lillian at that moment. She smiled back and closed the distance between them. Placing one hand on a metal pole of the merry-go-round, and the other on her hip, she switched between smiling at Alexander and trying to catch Colin's eyes.
"Something I can do for you, boys?" she asked, cheekily.
"You'll spin us, won't you, Mom?" Alexander asked, and it didn't escape her notice that one of her son's hands was still tightly gripping one of Colin's.
"Well, of course I will!" she exclaimed, and moved her other hand up to hold the metal bar also. "What else are moms for?" Alexander virtually beamed at her and her comment even elicited a slight smile from Colin. "I don't think you're ready, though," Lillian countered, pointedly looking at how the two boys were simply standing straight up on the merry-go-round. "You're certainly not going to last very long, standing like that. . . "
"She's right," Alexander whispered to Colin. Then the two of them went about the process of wrapping themselves around the metal beams, and Alexander eventually looked back up at her, nodding. "We're ready," he told her seriously.
"Then hold on tight, angels," Lillian warned, as she started to push the merry-go-round, "because here we go!"
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Adam and Dean, talking about whatever you want them to talk about. I leave it up to you! - roxymissrose
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Disclaimer: Supernatural and certain characters belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. No profit is gained from this writing, only, hopefully, enjoyment.
"I'm not talking to you," the kid says, his back to Dean and his whole body tense. He's doing something with his hands, but Dean doesn't want to move any closer and so he can't see what exactly.
"Yeah," Dean responds, after a moment, "I'd kind of gathered that, what, with the way you leave anytime I come into a room." He shifts a little, and the ancient floorboards in Bobby's house creak under his feet.
Kid makes a noise in his throat, sort of a fed-up sigh, Dean thinks, and then he's turning around and glaring full-force at Dean.
Okay, so this is pretty much proof that somebody -- and they all know who that somebody is -- told the kid about The Deal before Dean had a chance to. And so the kid's kinda understandably maybe a little upset? Dean had pretty much figured that to be the case when they all came back to Bobby's and Adam wouldn't even look at him, but the way the kid's acted the past week just. . . cements it.
What the hell else could it be, after all?
Adam's still glaring at him from a few feet away, but Dean just wants to reach out and drag the little shit into a headlock and squeeze the hell out of him. He's been pretty blank about it all, still is numb even now, but it's slowly starting to sink in. Standing here with Adam royally pissed off at him, a thought pops up that this is. . . maybe one of the last times he'll ever see the kid.
"Okay, so you're pissed-- " Dean starts, only to stop because he has to jerk back in order to avoid the swinging fist suddenly on a collision course with his face.
"Fucker!" Adam shouts, following him, and pulling his other arm back for another attempt at clocking him. "Show you pissed!"
"Jesus, kid!" Dean says, dodging and backing away until the time's right. Finally, there's an opening, and Dean's then able to get a secure hold on Adam's arms, trapping the kid between the door and Dean's own body. "What the hell?!"
Kid makes that sound again, that weird sigh, and Dean can feel how tense his body is under his weight.
Although, there's some shaking going on, too, and Dean knows it's not coming from him. . .
"Adam," Dean says quietly, right next to the kid's ear, "it's gonna be okay. Okay? Everything's gonna-- "
Suddenly, Dean finds himself ass-down on the floor, with Adam towering above him. Kid's gotten to be pretty huge in the last year or two, bulked up a lot. And that's just been proven fact by the way he. . . literally just put Dean down on the floor in under five seconds.
"Whoa," Dean breathes out. He looks up at the kid again, who's still visibly shaking with anger, and can't help grinning in pride. "Dude, that was freakin' awesome!"
"You're an asshole!" Adam shouts back, and that wipes the smile right off Dean's face. He's never seen the kid this angry before, and he wasn't kidding around with those swings, either. Those had force behind them and intent, and Dean realizes he's kinda in over his head right now. He'd thought he knew how to deal with every one of Adam's moods, but. . . that doesn't seem to be the case.
"Look," he tries again, still sitting on the floor with Adam glaring him to death, "I'm sorry. I didn't-- things weren't s'posed to turn out like this, all right?"
"Fuck you," Adam spits out, turning and putting his back to Dean again. "You're so fucking retarded." There's a sound suspiciously like a sniff and then Adam quietly mutters "Asshole" again.
Shaking plus sniffling plus not looking at him all adds up to something other than anger, in Dean's experience. It means something else with Sammy, and it means something else with Adam, too. It has to. Kid's never actually been angry at him before, not really.
Dean can't really stand the thought of Adam being angry with him now either, not. . . not with everything how it is.
"I'm sorry," Dean repeats, climbing to his feet and carefully moving up behind Adam. He takes a deep breath, then sets his hand on the kid's shoulder. There's no swinging or death glares, so he leaves it there, even giving Adam's shoulder a squeeze a moment later.
The shaking's still going and Adam's sniffling has become more obvious. Dean's seconds away from pulling him into a hug when the kid lets out a watery, "God, Dean!"
And that seals it. Dean yanks the kid into his arms by that grip on his shoulder and just holds him tight. He has one hand cupping the back of Adam's head, the other across his back, and eventually the kid's face winds up pressing into Dean's neck. Wetness there, like Dean had needed any proof he was crying. And maybe it makes him a terrible person, sick in the head or something, but deep inside he knows this moment isn't all bad. Adam's crying and Dean's got him. He's got him.
" . . . can't do this again," Adam whispers wetly, and he's still shaking, still clinging to Dean like Dean's trying to get away. . . which he's not. "Can't," he repeats desperately, and Dean just squeezes him tighter.
Two weeks already gone from The Year, and who knows how often he'll see Adam during the course of the rest of it, but right now. . . right now, he's here and Dean's got him.
"Love you, Kid," he whispers, and Adam just starts sobbing.
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I will request something private between Kal and Lex, which does not need to equal anything smutty. Actually non-smutty would be preferred given these guys. Just something... important and meaningful that they would never dream of sharing with anyone other than the other person. - me_ya_ri
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Disclaimer: ‘Smallville’ and certain characters belong to Miller-Gough et al. No profit is gained from this writing, only, hopefully, enjoyment.
For the thousandth time, he considers whether or not his pride will spell his downfall. (God, don't think about downfall, he chides himself. Down and. . . fall. Falling.)
Lex takes another deep breath and closes his eyes. He's placed one hand against the rough stone of the wall, all that he'll allow himself to do, but it's still not anywhere near enough to curb (oh, Jesus, curbs) the nearly overwhelming anxiety. His nerves are already shot and he's still on solid ground. This is not a good idea.
He honestly doesn't know if he has it in him to. . . go through with this. He's going to make a fool of himself saying no, but right now that sounds infinitely more appealing than the alternative.
Suddenly there's a large hand on his shoulder, and Lex bites the inside of his cheek in order not to flinch or gasp in surprise.
He gets a quiet "Hey" and then the hand's mate is sliding up Lex's other arm.
"Hey," Lex offers in return, and it's not embarrassingly breathy like he'd feared it would be. So he may be terrified right at the moment, but he doesn't sound like it. That's good. That's something.
Another handful of seconds pass in windy, chill silence, and normally he'd be thankful for it, but right now it seems out of place. They're both here on Lex's balcony for a reason, and the longer the wait the more obvious the tension. Besides, there's really no point in Lex trying to hide anything. Lord knows, Kal can probably pick up on fear miles away. Maybe he can hear it.
"We don't need to do this," Kal whispers into Lex's ear. The wind this high up (68 floors and counting, Lex thinks before he can stop himself) is incredibly loud, and yet Kal's voice cuts through the noise with no trouble at all. He's warm, too. Just his hands on top of Lex's coat are sending waves of heat throughout his body.
"It's not a big deal," Kal adds, "too cold, anyway." His hands start rubbing Lex's arms briskly, and somehow there's not even a trace of sarcasm or knowing amusement or mockery in Kal's voice when he whispers, "Wouldn't want you to get sick, or something."
And that's when Lex knows he's going to do it, going to go through with it, is able to. That's the moment he remembers he wants to. Kal gives him an out, a very nice, gentlemanly out, and Lex can smile and turn around to face him. He can take his hand off the solid wall he'd (let's face it) been clinging to before and just. . . enjoy this.
"No way," Lex declares, and he sets about taking this moment and turning it into something warmer and deeper -- a memory. Kal's arms are still up and around him, so Lex slides his own down, moving them around Kal's waist. "You're not getting out of this that easily," he adds, smiling so it won't be taken the wrong way.
And Kal's mouth turns up in the corners sure enough, but his eyes are what Lex really focuses on.
"Step onto my feet," Kal tells him quietly, and Lex does so. "Now. . . " he whispers, and Lex can already feel something's changed, "hold on tight." Kal suddenly grins then, saying, "Don't look down, Lex."
"Holy fuck!" Lex shouts, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his fingers into Kal's back as he pulls him closer in an attempt not to fall down, down, down. . . down, right onto the streets of the city now miles below them.
Little things slowly start popping back up through Lex's panic, and eventually he's able to open his eyes again. Kal's warmth is overwhelming, as is the sheer. . . solidity of him. Lex can hear the noise of the city now, too, the myriad sounds of traffic and everyday people going about their everyday routines, while Lex is fucking floating in the sky above them.
"What do you think?" Kal eventually whispers to him, once they're drifting over the river and the bridge. Lex is looking down when it's said, but he darts his eyes up to Kal's face after. The mouth is crooked still, but he knows where to look for the truth.
Lex smiles, and doesn't think the two of them can actually get any physically closer but he tries anyway. "It's amazing," he whispers back, tightening his arms around Kal as hard as he can.
And those eyes Lex has been focusing on this whole time scrunch up at the corners, and he doesn't get a reply because suddenly their mouths are both too busy to say anything else.
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Can I request a day in the park with little Lex, Lin and Lillian? Something sweet and short for the boys to remember her. - gummibearthief
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It was difficult to keep a straight face, to stop herself from reaching out and hanging onto them both. Alexander was doing an admirable job with the little boy, and they did look darling together, but she also found it somewhat of a. . . novel experience, and that made her cautious. Her little prince, often so uncertain and terribly desperate for any sort of validation or reassurance, was now confidently telling this small child the ins and outs of a merry-go-round. She didn't quite know what to make of it, truthfully.
She'd never been prouder of her son than in this moment. Alexander was the soul of kindness and generosity with little Colin, always suggesting ways to make the child more comfortable and welcome.
"Here," he was saying to the little boy, "climb up there. Yeah," and Alexander held Colin's hand as he too moved onto the merry-go-round after him. "See?" Alexander asked, bending over a little to look the boy in the face. "It's nice, right? And it has all these hand-holds to hang onto. You just wrap yourself around one or two and. . . hang on, while it spins."
Lillian watched a discreet distance away as Colin turned his head to whisper something to Alexander. Such a quiet child, that one, and she couldn't put it down to any specific behaviors, but little Colin was also. . . very worrying to her, in general. The more she thought on it, the more certain it seemed that that little boy over there was showing textbook signs of trauma, even grief. She was no psychiatrist or therapist, but she damned well knew what sadness and depression looked like, and that poor child over there. . .
Well, it made her remember why she'd married Lionel. To take in such a child and adopt him, offer him so much and in the process give their Alexander some much needed self-confidence? Lionel was a good man underneath. He didn't let anyone see, not even Lillian apart from a handful of occasions, but Lionel was capable of so much generosity when he just set his mind to it. He did good things all the time, and mostly for the right reasons. He'd brought Colin into their home. He'd provided a wonderful life for Lillian and Alexander, and during the bad times. . . well, they'd always had only the best doctors at hand. Lionel wasn't afraid to spend that money of his, not on her and not on their son. And now, Colin was part of the family, too. They'd all love him, and maybe someday soon the poor thing would overcome that dark cloud of his. Alexander's was already dissipating. She saw him smile every day now, bright, real smiles, and it hadn't been so long ago that she'd thought her son incapable of ever being happy again.
"She will," Alexander said, and Lillian blinked and focused back on her boys in the here and now. Alexander was looking at her, that knowing little smile of his on his face, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what was expected of Lillian at that moment. She smiled back and closed the distance between them. Placing one hand on a metal pole of the merry-go-round, and the other on her hip, she switched between smiling at Alexander and trying to catch Colin's eyes.
"Something I can do for you, boys?" she asked, cheekily.
"You'll spin us, won't you, Mom?" Alexander asked, and it didn't escape her notice that one of her son's hands was still tightly gripping one of Colin's.
"Well, of course I will!" she exclaimed, and moved her other hand up to hold the metal bar also. "What else are moms for?" Alexander virtually beamed at her and her comment even elicited a slight smile from Colin. "I don't think you're ready, though," Lillian countered, pointedly looking at how the two boys were simply standing straight up on the merry-go-round. "You're certainly not going to last very long, standing like that. . . "
"She's right," Alexander whispered to Colin. Then the two of them went about the process of wrapping themselves around the metal beams, and Alexander eventually looked back up at her, nodding. "We're ready," he told her seriously.
"Then hold on tight, angels," Lillian warned, as she started to push the merry-go-round, "because here we go!"
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Adam and Dean, talking about whatever you want them to talk about. I leave it up to you! - roxymissrose
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Disclaimer: Supernatural and certain characters belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. No profit is gained from this writing, only, hopefully, enjoyment.
"I'm not talking to you," the kid says, his back to Dean and his whole body tense. He's doing something with his hands, but Dean doesn't want to move any closer and so he can't see what exactly.
"Yeah," Dean responds, after a moment, "I'd kind of gathered that, what, with the way you leave anytime I come into a room." He shifts a little, and the ancient floorboards in Bobby's house creak under his feet.
Kid makes a noise in his throat, sort of a fed-up sigh, Dean thinks, and then he's turning around and glaring full-force at Dean.
Okay, so this is pretty much proof that somebody -- and they all know who that somebody is -- told the kid about The Deal before Dean had a chance to. And so the kid's kinda understandably maybe a little upset? Dean had pretty much figured that to be the case when they all came back to Bobby's and Adam wouldn't even look at him, but the way the kid's acted the past week just. . . cements it.
What the hell else could it be, after all?
Adam's still glaring at him from a few feet away, but Dean just wants to reach out and drag the little shit into a headlock and squeeze the hell out of him. He's been pretty blank about it all, still is numb even now, but it's slowly starting to sink in. Standing here with Adam royally pissed off at him, a thought pops up that this is. . . maybe one of the last times he'll ever see the kid.
"Okay, so you're pissed-- " Dean starts, only to stop because he has to jerk back in order to avoid the swinging fist suddenly on a collision course with his face.
"Fucker!" Adam shouts, following him, and pulling his other arm back for another attempt at clocking him. "Show you pissed!"
"Jesus, kid!" Dean says, dodging and backing away until the time's right. Finally, there's an opening, and Dean's then able to get a secure hold on Adam's arms, trapping the kid between the door and Dean's own body. "What the hell?!"
Kid makes that sound again, that weird sigh, and Dean can feel how tense his body is under his weight.
Although, there's some shaking going on, too, and Dean knows it's not coming from him. . .
"Adam," Dean says quietly, right next to the kid's ear, "it's gonna be okay. Okay? Everything's gonna-- "
Suddenly, Dean finds himself ass-down on the floor, with Adam towering above him. Kid's gotten to be pretty huge in the last year or two, bulked up a lot. And that's just been proven fact by the way he. . . literally just put Dean down on the floor in under five seconds.
"Whoa," Dean breathes out. He looks up at the kid again, who's still visibly shaking with anger, and can't help grinning in pride. "Dude, that was freakin' awesome!"
"You're an asshole!" Adam shouts back, and that wipes the smile right off Dean's face. He's never seen the kid this angry before, and he wasn't kidding around with those swings, either. Those had force behind them and intent, and Dean realizes he's kinda in over his head right now. He'd thought he knew how to deal with every one of Adam's moods, but. . . that doesn't seem to be the case.
"Look," he tries again, still sitting on the floor with Adam glaring him to death, "I'm sorry. I didn't-- things weren't s'posed to turn out like this, all right?"
"Fuck you," Adam spits out, turning and putting his back to Dean again. "You're so fucking retarded." There's a sound suspiciously like a sniff and then Adam quietly mutters "Asshole" again.
Shaking plus sniffling plus not looking at him all adds up to something other than anger, in Dean's experience. It means something else with Sammy, and it means something else with Adam, too. It has to. Kid's never actually been angry at him before, not really.
Dean can't really stand the thought of Adam being angry with him now either, not. . . not with everything how it is.
"I'm sorry," Dean repeats, climbing to his feet and carefully moving up behind Adam. He takes a deep breath, then sets his hand on the kid's shoulder. There's no swinging or death glares, so he leaves it there, even giving Adam's shoulder a squeeze a moment later.
The shaking's still going and Adam's sniffling has become more obvious. Dean's seconds away from pulling him into a hug when the kid lets out a watery, "God, Dean!"
And that seals it. Dean yanks the kid into his arms by that grip on his shoulder and just holds him tight. He has one hand cupping the back of Adam's head, the other across his back, and eventually the kid's face winds up pressing into Dean's neck. Wetness there, like Dean had needed any proof he was crying. And maybe it makes him a terrible person, sick in the head or something, but deep inside he knows this moment isn't all bad. Adam's crying and Dean's got him. He's got him.
" . . . can't do this again," Adam whispers wetly, and he's still shaking, still clinging to Dean like Dean's trying to get away. . . which he's not. "Can't," he repeats desperately, and Dean just squeezes him tighter.
Two weeks already gone from The Year, and who knows how often he'll see Adam during the course of the rest of it, but right now. . . right now, he's here and Dean's got him.
"Love you, Kid," he whispers, and Adam just starts sobbing.