sue_dreams
in
sv100
Team MetaHumans // 17 Drabbles
Team: Metahumans
Title: That's amore
Challenge: 32. Past Prompts - 01. Pie, 13. Green, 05. Pizza, 14. Magic, 25. Lunch, 30. Teardrop, 18. Cold, 28. Books, 21. Gift, 27. Tease, 11. Cookies, 03. Memory, 17. Hug, 29. Black & White, 02. Orange, 31. Wolf, 09. Legion
Rating: R, for innuendo and allusions to sex
Characters/Pairings: Clex, Lex, Clark, Martha, mentions of Jonathon, Lionel
Author's Notes: These are a set of related drabbles, so one summary. (They get away from me, when I do this!) Companion piece to A Ruse of Pie. Now edited for dumb-bad error. *facepalms*
Warnings/Spoilers: Occurs sometime after "Phoenix" in Season 3.
Summary: Sex and love is not a game; A game is something you can win from Sneaker Pimps, "Blood Sport"
It doesn't actually start with pie, but it may be the tipping point. Lex is normally proficient in determining causality in any situation and assigning appropriate blame or credit where it is most deserved.
Clark makes that impossible, a fact that gets under Lex's skin a little more each day. He thought it was the farm boy charm, the innocence and the smile, but Clark has made him rethink that. Clark makes him second guess everything. People who inspire doubt in Lex do not stay long in his orbit, but Clark...
Clark is the exception to every rule Lex creates.
*
"Let's have Italian," Clark requested.
Lex got lost in the green of his eyes, so close. His reply was automatic. "Of course, Clark. Anything you want." Clark's answering smile was blinding, and Lex had to look away. He realized too late what he'd said, the truth laced through the words, making them as damning as any confession.
He made his next shot through sheer determination, then offered a lazy smile. "Though if you're after the authentic experience, your parents may object my taking you to Italy."
There was something bright about Clark's eyes. "You know what I like."
Oh, yes.
*
It was quickly apparent that pizza was not what the boy had been after. Lex watched the dimming of excitement on Clark's face, the replacement of certainty with doubt. "It smells good," the boy said, and it was so very obvious his heart wasn't in it.
"You were thinking of another form of Italian food?" He moved to sit beside Clark. Something he had discovered since his return was that Clark's willingness to speak candidly increased with Lex's proximity. He hadn't tested that on the bigger secrets yet, but he would, with time.
"Spaghetti." Clark's voice was small, but sincere.
*
"Then we'll make spaghetti," Lex declared. "Any special reason?" He rose to his feet.
Clark reached for his hand and held on. He brought his eyes up to search Lex's face. "It reminds me of 'The Lady and the Tramp.'" Lex's lack of knowledge of the title must have been apparent. Clark tugged him back down, and Lex allowed it. Clark's smile was like magic, putting him in the boy's thrall. "They share a plate of spaghetti... and then a single, long noodle, and their faces get closer..."
He leaned in closer, and Lex was quick to catch on.
*
"This isn't about lunch, is it?" Lex asked, drawing his hand away and twisting his body so that Clark could see only his profile.
"No," Clark agreed. He didn't seem deterred by Lex's withdrawal. "I've thought about this for a while, but I didn't know how to tell you."
It's the perfect lead-in for the wrong conversation, one that Lex had hoped to have several years in the future. A conversation they could have as adults and equals. Lex had never turned down something he'd wanted so much, but that was Clark all over again. Always an exception. Exceptional boy.
*
The words were easy to dredge up. Quiet sincerity, an offer of continued friendship, and a firm refusal to be anything else.
Lex delivered them all with a calm voice, his eyes focused over Clark's shoulder at the stained glass window. The boy stood there all the while, his hands first hanging at his side, then shoved in his pockets, and finally crossed protectively over his chest.
Rejection was always cruel, in a way, though Lex tried to be kind with his words. The teardrop that trailed down Clark's cheek told the tale of the pain anyway. Lex looked away.
*
"You're so full of it," Clark said when he was done.
He moved forward and put his hands on Lex's shoulder. Leaned in close, to where Lex had to look at him or be obvious in his avoidance. Lex hadn't realized he was cold until Clark's heat seared through him.
Lex clenched his jaw. He raised his hands to push Clark's arms away, forced himself to meet Clark's gaze head on. "I can make excuses and pretty lies, Clark, but this isn't going to happen." He wouldn't allow it, for Clark's sake. And for his own. A promise to himself.
*
The silence hung heavy as Clark finally stepped back, turned, left. Lex watched him go, rooted.
At first, Clark had been a challenge. Sweet farm boy with a disapproving father and the close-knit family Lex had always wanted. Lex had attached himself quickly, mostly for his own reasons. He'd wanted everything Clark could give him. Until he'd realized that Clark might give him everything.
Happy endings only happened in books, and only for the hero. Lex knew his father would agree that Luthors were closer to fairy-tale villains. In this one thing, only for Clark, Lex would play to his weaknesses.
*
Lex does not suffer guilt or remorse. He does not pine in Clark's absence. He refuses at all to feel badly for his rejection.
Despite that, he spends two nights planning the ruination of his father's company, as if his secret, unfulfilled plot will soothe the ache within him. He leaves the office at dawn the third day, long enough to fetch his own coffee from the kitchen, and returns to his office to find his sanctuary invaded.
There's no one there, but the evidence sits on his desk. It's a gift from Clark, that is doubtless. Home-made cherry pie.
*
It's an interesting method of seduction, but by mid-afternoon, Lex had to admit that Clark's brand of teasing was effective. So distracted by Clark and his pies, Lex ended up at the plant in his clothes from the previous day. No one said anything, but he saw the speculative looks, especially after a pie appeared in his office and again in his limo.
By the time he made it to the Talon, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to kiss the persistent boy or force pie down his throat. Possibly both, in no particular order.
Perhaps he'd try kissing first?
*
His sanity in question, at least by his employees, Lex spends an hour in his car, just sitting on the side of a scarcely traveled road.
He's decided that what he wants, he cannot have.
Clark has apparently decided to reject his rejection.
They are at an impasse. Immovable object versus unstoppable force. Unfortunately, Lex is sure he is more moveable than Clark is stoppable.
At the Kent farms, he's greeted by Martha Kent and the smell of cookies. Both serve to remind of him of what he stands to lose if he hurts Clark. He will. It's a Luthor side-effect.
*
Martha feeds him. She listens to his recounting. She offers no advice, but he sees her taking in the information, and he has no doubt she would be insightful. She is Clark's mother, after all.
When he's done speaking, he sits in the kitchen and for once enjoys the sense of nostalgia instead of running from it. He's feeling so affectionate towards the woman, he lets himself be tucked into the corner of the couch, a blanket spread over him.
A hand brushes over his scalp when she thinks he's asleep. It brings to mind a memory of his mother.
*
He hears Clark come in, listens as his voice mingles with his mother's in the kitchen, then the kitchen door opens and shuts again.
Lex opens his eyes to see Clark hovering over the back of the couch. The boy smiles uncertainly, and Lex knows his plan is a success. He has made Clark doubt himself, and now his rejection will stand. He can push Clark away.
Instead, he extends a hand up, and then pulls Clark down into an awkward hug. The back of the sofa is between them, but it's enough. It is more than he really deserves.
*
"I know," he whispers into Clark's ear. "I know everything." If he were trying to send Clark away, this would probably be the best trick to do it. Clark's fear of discovery is so obvious and so compelling, the issue so black and white to him. Recognition can only lead to being stolen away.
As expected, Clark stiffens in his grasp, but Lex refuses to give him any space. This is Lex's challenge, the task set before his particular hero. If Clark wants him, he's going to have to learn to see outside of grayscale. Lex's dragons are in technicolor.
*
"What... do you know?" Clark finally asks. His arms resettle around Lex.
"That in an area of apples and oranges, you're a more exotic type of fruit." There's a moment silence, then Clark's body shakes in laughter. The sound washes comfortably over Lex, and he smiles against Clark's shoulder.
When Clark's laughter stops, he moves. Too quickly for Lex to participate or help, he finds himself lifted, moved, and resettled against Clark's chest.
He pushes up on his elbows and Clark smiles up at him hopefully, and as there isn't any pie in the vicinity, Lex starts with the kissing.
*
Lex doesn't realize he's facing his own trial until Martha invites him to dinner and, much like her son, won't take no for an answer. Jonathon is obviously angry, ready to try Lex as a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Martha is more subtle. She brings out a pie from some hidden dish and serves Lex the first piece. Her eyes are wise, knowing. She pats his hand and leaves Clark's plate empty, says nothing when they switch. It's embarrassing, being known so well. Too well.
Lex would not suffer it for anyone else, but Clark is...
Well. Exceptional. As always.
*
There are more warnings, of course.
Jonathon has never particularly liked him. "He doesn't keep the shot gun loaded all the time, though."
Lionel is always a concern. "My father would have no problem working with the Legions of Hell, if he could thwart me."
Clark's friends, those who were and were not in the know or romantically inclined toward him still considered Clark 'theirs.' "I'm not nearly so possessive of friends myself," Lex murmurs, between kisses.
The boy laughs at him. "Yes, you really are."
"Only where you're concerned." It's an easy bit of honesty to offer him.
Title: That's amore
Challenge: 32. Past Prompts - 01. Pie, 13. Green, 05. Pizza, 14. Magic, 25. Lunch, 30. Teardrop, 18. Cold, 28. Books, 21. Gift, 27. Tease, 11. Cookies, 03. Memory, 17. Hug, 29. Black & White, 02. Orange, 31. Wolf, 09. Legion
Rating: R, for innuendo and allusions to sex
Characters/Pairings: Clex, Lex, Clark, Martha, mentions of Jonathon, Lionel
Author's Notes: These are a set of related drabbles, so one summary. (They get away from me, when I do this!) Companion piece to A Ruse of Pie. Now edited for dumb-bad error. *facepalms*
Warnings/Spoilers: Occurs sometime after "Phoenix" in Season 3.
Summary: Sex and love is not a game; A game is something you can win from Sneaker Pimps, "Blood Sport"
It doesn't actually start with pie, but it may be the tipping point. Lex is normally proficient in determining causality in any situation and assigning appropriate blame or credit where it is most deserved.
Clark makes that impossible, a fact that gets under Lex's skin a little more each day. He thought it was the farm boy charm, the innocence and the smile, but Clark has made him rethink that. Clark makes him second guess everything. People who inspire doubt in Lex do not stay long in his orbit, but Clark...
Clark is the exception to every rule Lex creates.
*
"Let's have Italian," Clark requested.
Lex got lost in the green of his eyes, so close. His reply was automatic. "Of course, Clark. Anything you want." Clark's answering smile was blinding, and Lex had to look away. He realized too late what he'd said, the truth laced through the words, making them as damning as any confession.
He made his next shot through sheer determination, then offered a lazy smile. "Though if you're after the authentic experience, your parents may object my taking you to Italy."
There was something bright about Clark's eyes. "You know what I like."
Oh, yes.
*
It was quickly apparent that pizza was not what the boy had been after. Lex watched the dimming of excitement on Clark's face, the replacement of certainty with doubt. "It smells good," the boy said, and it was so very obvious his heart wasn't in it.
"You were thinking of another form of Italian food?" He moved to sit beside Clark. Something he had discovered since his return was that Clark's willingness to speak candidly increased with Lex's proximity. He hadn't tested that on the bigger secrets yet, but he would, with time.
"Spaghetti." Clark's voice was small, but sincere.
*
"Then we'll make spaghetti," Lex declared. "Any special reason?" He rose to his feet.
Clark reached for his hand and held on. He brought his eyes up to search Lex's face. "It reminds me of 'The Lady and the Tramp.'" Lex's lack of knowledge of the title must have been apparent. Clark tugged him back down, and Lex allowed it. Clark's smile was like magic, putting him in the boy's thrall. "They share a plate of spaghetti... and then a single, long noodle, and their faces get closer..."
He leaned in closer, and Lex was quick to catch on.
*
"This isn't about lunch, is it?" Lex asked, drawing his hand away and twisting his body so that Clark could see only his profile.
"No," Clark agreed. He didn't seem deterred by Lex's withdrawal. "I've thought about this for a while, but I didn't know how to tell you."
It's the perfect lead-in for the wrong conversation, one that Lex had hoped to have several years in the future. A conversation they could have as adults and equals. Lex had never turned down something he'd wanted so much, but that was Clark all over again. Always an exception. Exceptional boy.
*
The words were easy to dredge up. Quiet sincerity, an offer of continued friendship, and a firm refusal to be anything else.
Lex delivered them all with a calm voice, his eyes focused over Clark's shoulder at the stained glass window. The boy stood there all the while, his hands first hanging at his side, then shoved in his pockets, and finally crossed protectively over his chest.
Rejection was always cruel, in a way, though Lex tried to be kind with his words. The teardrop that trailed down Clark's cheek told the tale of the pain anyway. Lex looked away.
*
"You're so full of it," Clark said when he was done.
He moved forward and put his hands on Lex's shoulder. Leaned in close, to where Lex had to look at him or be obvious in his avoidance. Lex hadn't realized he was cold until Clark's heat seared through him.
Lex clenched his jaw. He raised his hands to push Clark's arms away, forced himself to meet Clark's gaze head on. "I can make excuses and pretty lies, Clark, but this isn't going to happen." He wouldn't allow it, for Clark's sake. And for his own. A promise to himself.
*
The silence hung heavy as Clark finally stepped back, turned, left. Lex watched him go, rooted.
At first, Clark had been a challenge. Sweet farm boy with a disapproving father and the close-knit family Lex had always wanted. Lex had attached himself quickly, mostly for his own reasons. He'd wanted everything Clark could give him. Until he'd realized that Clark might give him everything.
Happy endings only happened in books, and only for the hero. Lex knew his father would agree that Luthors were closer to fairy-tale villains. In this one thing, only for Clark, Lex would play to his weaknesses.
*
Lex does not suffer guilt or remorse. He does not pine in Clark's absence. He refuses at all to feel badly for his rejection.
Despite that, he spends two nights planning the ruination of his father's company, as if his secret, unfulfilled plot will soothe the ache within him. He leaves the office at dawn the third day, long enough to fetch his own coffee from the kitchen, and returns to his office to find his sanctuary invaded.
There's no one there, but the evidence sits on his desk. It's a gift from Clark, that is doubtless. Home-made cherry pie.
*
It's an interesting method of seduction, but by mid-afternoon, Lex had to admit that Clark's brand of teasing was effective. So distracted by Clark and his pies, Lex ended up at the plant in his clothes from the previous day. No one said anything, but he saw the speculative looks, especially after a pie appeared in his office and again in his limo.
By the time he made it to the Talon, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to kiss the persistent boy or force pie down his throat. Possibly both, in no particular order.
Perhaps he'd try kissing first?
*
His sanity in question, at least by his employees, Lex spends an hour in his car, just sitting on the side of a scarcely traveled road.
He's decided that what he wants, he cannot have.
Clark has apparently decided to reject his rejection.
They are at an impasse. Immovable object versus unstoppable force. Unfortunately, Lex is sure he is more moveable than Clark is stoppable.
At the Kent farms, he's greeted by Martha Kent and the smell of cookies. Both serve to remind of him of what he stands to lose if he hurts Clark. He will. It's a Luthor side-effect.
*
Martha feeds him. She listens to his recounting. She offers no advice, but he sees her taking in the information, and he has no doubt she would be insightful. She is Clark's mother, after all.
When he's done speaking, he sits in the kitchen and for once enjoys the sense of nostalgia instead of running from it. He's feeling so affectionate towards the woman, he lets himself be tucked into the corner of the couch, a blanket spread over him.
A hand brushes over his scalp when she thinks he's asleep. It brings to mind a memory of his mother.
*
He hears Clark come in, listens as his voice mingles with his mother's in the kitchen, then the kitchen door opens and shuts again.
Lex opens his eyes to see Clark hovering over the back of the couch. The boy smiles uncertainly, and Lex knows his plan is a success. He has made Clark doubt himself, and now his rejection will stand. He can push Clark away.
Instead, he extends a hand up, and then pulls Clark down into an awkward hug. The back of the sofa is between them, but it's enough. It is more than he really deserves.
*
"I know," he whispers into Clark's ear. "I know everything." If he were trying to send Clark away, this would probably be the best trick to do it. Clark's fear of discovery is so obvious and so compelling, the issue so black and white to him. Recognition can only lead to being stolen away.
As expected, Clark stiffens in his grasp, but Lex refuses to give him any space. This is Lex's challenge, the task set before his particular hero. If Clark wants him, he's going to have to learn to see outside of grayscale. Lex's dragons are in technicolor.
*
"What... do you know?" Clark finally asks. His arms resettle around Lex.
"That in an area of apples and oranges, you're a more exotic type of fruit." There's a moment silence, then Clark's body shakes in laughter. The sound washes comfortably over Lex, and he smiles against Clark's shoulder.
When Clark's laughter stops, he moves. Too quickly for Lex to participate or help, he finds himself lifted, moved, and resettled against Clark's chest.
He pushes up on his elbows and Clark smiles up at him hopefully, and as there isn't any pie in the vicinity, Lex starts with the kissing.
*
Lex doesn't realize he's facing his own trial until Martha invites him to dinner and, much like her son, won't take no for an answer. Jonathon is obviously angry, ready to try Lex as a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Martha is more subtle. She brings out a pie from some hidden dish and serves Lex the first piece. Her eyes are wise, knowing. She pats his hand and leaves Clark's plate empty, says nothing when they switch. It's embarrassing, being known so well. Too well.
Lex would not suffer it for anyone else, but Clark is...
Well. Exceptional. As always.
*
There are more warnings, of course.
Jonathon has never particularly liked him. "He doesn't keep the shot gun loaded all the time, though."
Lionel is always a concern. "My father would have no problem working with the Legions of Hell, if he could thwart me."
Clark's friends, those who were and were not in the know or romantically inclined toward him still considered Clark 'theirs.' "I'm not nearly so possessive of friends myself," Lex murmurs, between kisses.
The boy laughs at him. "Yes, you really are."
"Only where you're concerned." It's an easy bit of honesty to offer him.