Fic: Plaid (Clex, Febff)
Title: Plaid
Category: fic
Rating: G
Word Count:
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Lex is not exactly welcome in Clark's space, so his actions are invasive and stalkery from that perspective. Know yourself and determine if that's a problem.
Notes: Written for my little February Fic Fest thing. Prompt from a list picked up somewhere a year or more ago was, wearing partner's clothes. Mid-rift, alternate timeline.
Summary: Lex raids Clark's closet.
The closet was half-empty. Clark apparently only had five poorly fitted suits and two pairs of jeans hung up, and a small handful of t-shirts he folded into one of the drawers of his dresser. It made sense, though. Between pretending to be a reporter, which was ridiculous with his lack of reliability, and running around in dark clothes, Clark apparently didn't have much use for a diverse warddrobe.
It was disappointing, but Lex almost gave up on finding what he was looking for. Clark would be back in just a few minutes and-- there it was. It was perhaps a little dirty, having been tucked away in the hamper, but it smelled clean enough when Lex brought it to his nose to sniff. That would do nicely.
* * *
Clark sped up the fire escape and into his apartment, then let the window close behind him. He needed shower to rid himself of the lingering odor of smoke and ash. He needed to eat, having skipped dinner and tossing half his lunch on the way to a mugging. He had an article to finish and--. The coat over the chair at his little table wasn't his, there were someone else's shoes by his door. Clark turned his face to the wall between his living room and bedroom and shouldn't have been surprised by the skeleton lying on his bed. Should had no part in his life, however, and he was surprised.
He started to head directly to the room, but realized that doing so would make it obvious he hadn't used the door. He moved quickly to his entranceway and opened the door. Lex didn't move. He pushed the door shut with a slam, but there was no reaction from the other man again.
Clark moved toward the doorway to his room, expecting Lex to call out some sort of greeting or invitation or threat, but Lex was silent. Lex was sleeping. On Clark's bed, in an old plaid shirt let open over his bare chest. Clark's eyes slid over the rest of Lex's body without him meaning to look. Lex still had his trousers on, but his dress shirt was hanging in the open doorway of Clark's closet and his sock-clad feet seemed oddly vulnerable.
The instinctive ire that had burned in Clark at the first idea of someone invading him home washed away in a surge of nostalgiac affection. It was no doubt some new ploy, but a sleeping and plaid-clad Lex was apparently a new weakness for Clark, because he couldn't bring himself to wake the other man and ruin the moment. It'd been so long since he'd seen Lex unguarded, relaxed. The plaid shirt wasn't exactly a white flag, but it was a detente.
Read at the AO3: Plaid @ AO3
Category: fic
Rating: G
Word Count:
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Lex is not exactly welcome in Clark's space, so his actions are invasive and stalkery from that perspective. Know yourself and determine if that's a problem.
Notes: Written for my little February Fic Fest thing. Prompt from a list picked up somewhere a year or more ago was, wearing partner's clothes. Mid-rift, alternate timeline.
Summary: Lex raids Clark's closet.
The closet was half-empty. Clark apparently only had five poorly fitted suits and two pairs of jeans hung up, and a small handful of t-shirts he folded into one of the drawers of his dresser. It made sense, though. Between pretending to be a reporter, which was ridiculous with his lack of reliability, and running around in dark clothes, Clark apparently didn't have much use for a diverse warddrobe.
It was disappointing, but Lex almost gave up on finding what he was looking for. Clark would be back in just a few minutes and-- there it was. It was perhaps a little dirty, having been tucked away in the hamper, but it smelled clean enough when Lex brought it to his nose to sniff. That would do nicely.
* * *
Clark sped up the fire escape and into his apartment, then let the window close behind him. He needed shower to rid himself of the lingering odor of smoke and ash. He needed to eat, having skipped dinner and tossing half his lunch on the way to a mugging. He had an article to finish and--. The coat over the chair at his little table wasn't his, there were someone else's shoes by his door. Clark turned his face to the wall between his living room and bedroom and shouldn't have been surprised by the skeleton lying on his bed. Should had no part in his life, however, and he was surprised.
He started to head directly to the room, but realized that doing so would make it obvious he hadn't used the door. He moved quickly to his entranceway and opened the door. Lex didn't move. He pushed the door shut with a slam, but there was no reaction from the other man again.
Clark moved toward the doorway to his room, expecting Lex to call out some sort of greeting or invitation or threat, but Lex was silent. Lex was sleeping. On Clark's bed, in an old plaid shirt let open over his bare chest. Clark's eyes slid over the rest of Lex's body without him meaning to look. Lex still had his trousers on, but his dress shirt was hanging in the open doorway of Clark's closet and his sock-clad feet seemed oddly vulnerable.
The instinctive ire that had burned in Clark at the first idea of someone invading him home washed away in a surge of nostalgiac affection. It was no doubt some new ploy, but a sleeping and plaid-clad Lex was apparently a new weakness for Clark, because he couldn't bring himself to wake the other man and ruin the moment. It'd been so long since he'd seen Lex unguarded, relaxed. The plaid shirt wasn't exactly a white flag, but it was a detente.
Read at the AO3: Plaid @ AO3