Title: MetU GLBT
Fandom: SV
Pairing: Clark/Lex
Rating: PG
Summary: Clark's first week at college, and already he's learning new things.
Note: This is for
earthseed, who stumped this writer and requested college Clark/Lex.
MetU GLBT
By Lenore
It was Chloe who first suggested it, "Clark, do you think maybe you're actually batting for the other team?"
First week of their first semester at Met U, and fraternity shenanigans had already shifted into high gear. On their way to History of Journalism (a prerequisite for the major, so they were both taking it), they passed a gathering crowd at the DBK house, and Chloe said, "I wonder what's going on," and they stopped to take a look. It turned out that the sisters of KKM had come to join the brothers of DBK for an afternoon kegger on the lawn, and someone had broken out the garden hose for an impromptu wet t-shirt contest. The girls of KKM weren't much on bras, it seemed, because there were nipples everywhere and…apparently Clark was the only guy there who'd thrown his hands up to cover his eyes.
Clark denied Chloe's suggestion hotly, if not all that articulately, "I'm not-- I just-- You know."
Chloe nodded, a little ruefully "Yeah. I know, Clark."
Maybe if she'd never brought it up, if Clark hadn't already had gay on his mind, he wouldn't have noticed the table set up outside the Student Union, the hand lettered sign "MetU GLBT," and the boy casually sprawled in a chair behind it, head bent over a volume of Nietzsche. He was bald, either a fashion statement or maybe just an unfortunate roll of the genetic dice, and Clark had never considered before that a guy without hair looked strangely naked. Clark's stomach did something funny at that idea, and, wow, it was really warm in Metropolis in September. Had it always been this warm?
Every day for a week, the table was there in the same spot, and Clark never intended to skulk around, staring at the guy manning it. He just had things to do at the Student Union. That was how he rationalized it to himself.
The guy didn't notice, or possibly was just ignoring him, because on Friday, not looking up from his book, he started up a conversation, "I hope that's not your definition of stealth."
Clark froze where he was, behind a trashcan, partially crowded into an azalea bush. "Um."
The guy's eyes flicked up from the page, and he gave Clark a long, scrutinizing look, and then snapped his book closed. "What can I do for you?"
He had sharp blue eyes, trained right on Clark, like he could see things he wasn't supposed to, and Clark wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, a muggy feeling beneath his arms. Why had he never noticed before what a sweltering inferno September was?
"I, uh--" What was the question again? "I'm Clark."
The guy smiled, faintly amused. "Lex. Lex Luthor."
"Luthor?" Clark frowned.
Lex's shoulders stiffened. "Yes. One of those Luthors." His tone had become decidedly less welcoming.
"No, it's not--" Clark blurted out quickly, walking over to the table. "It's just-- I'm from Smallville. You know, where there's a LuthorCorp factory. And I didn't realize--"
"Oh." Lex relaxed again. "Yes, my father does his best to pretend to the people out there in the heartland that he doesn't have a son who's the president of the MetU GLBT. So here, Clark, take a copy of our meeting schedule."
He reached for a stack of papers, and his t-shirt pulled tight across his chest, and suddenly, Clark had a mental picture of Lex sopping wet, the thin cotton clinging to him, showing off his nipples and the lines of his muscles. It was a picture that left Clark with absolutely no urge to shield his eyes, and his face went spectacularly hot at the realization.
Lex raised an eyebrow. "So, I'm getting the sense that you're not really out, huh, Clark? Well, that's not a problem. We respect everyone's privacy, and there's no pressure to do anything you're not ready for. Although if you have a relationship with your parents like mine with my father, I definitely recommend marching in gay pride wearing nothing but a lavender triangle in body paint." He smiled evilly. "I know I enjoyed it."
Clark blinked, and suddenly he knew how a lightning rod must feel, a charge running all through him, head to foot, his cock surging, rubbing uncomfortably against the front of his jeans.
"Um, I--" His face was just as hot as September.
Understanding sparked in Lex's eyes. "Oh. Still figuring things out. Well, you should come to a meeting anyway. It might help, and I promise it in no way obligates you to be gay." He smiled. "This might help, too."
He handed Clark a brochure, and their fingers brushed. Clark sucked in his breath, and his cock grew even more insistent, and he had that itchy, sparkly feeling behind his eyes, like he might lose control of his heat vision at any moment. He stared down at the brochure, just to have something to focus on, and the title read, "How Do You Know If You're Gay?" Clark was pretty sure he already had his answer to that particular question.
"I, uh--" He swallowed hard. "I'll come to the meeting."
He shyly met Lex's gaze, and there was something warm, and interested if Clark wasn't mistaken, in Lex's eyes. It gave him that funny feeling in his stomach again.
Lex said, and his voice dipped low, "I'll look forward to seeing you, Clark."
Clark somehow managed to stumble back to his dorm, fighting the prickling heat in his eyes the whole way.
That night at dinner, he said haltingly to Chloe, "Um. About that-- What you said-- I think--"
Chloe reached over and patted his hand. "Haven't you learned by now, Clark? I'm always right."