Smallville (Clark/Lex): Into the Woods by remf
Title: Into the Woods
Fandom: Smallville
Characters: Clark Kent/Lex Luthor
Word Count: 4800
Rating: NC-17, but only for the reason listed below. No serious smut. For this reason, I may eventually have to write a sequel.
Summary: Lex goes on the camping trip from hell.
Author's Notes: Warning: Clark is seventeen in this fic. Run screaming if that does not appeal.
“You want me to - what?” Lex asked, shocked.
At first, Clark merely gazed back at him in that patient, older-than-his-years way of his. Lex chalked it up to clean, wholesome farm living, but it still annoyed the hell out of him. There was no way that a seventeen-year-old should be able to go head to head with him in the inscrutability department.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go camping with me some weekend,” Clark said again. “Now that summer’s here, it’s a great time to visit the State Forest.”
That’s what Lex had thought he’d said. He opened his mouth to offer some excuse, but nearly all of them had already been used by his father on him. Not terribly original.
And since the only one he was certain truly belonged to him was I’m not sure you want to be alone in the woods with the dirty old man who’s had somewhat impure thoughts about you almost from the moment you met him, Lex could find no excuse to give.
“I’d love to,” Lex heard himself say, and the wide, happy grin he received in return was almost worth the forty-eight hours of torture he’d just agreed to undergo.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Clark debated about telling his parents he was going with Lex, but ultimately his conscience poked and prodded at him until he let them know the night before.
“I thought you were going with Pete,” his mother said, while his father made a face that made him look like he’d smelled something that had been dead for a few weeks. “Didn’t you say you were going with Pete?”
“Pete’s gone to Chicago for two weeks,” Clark said, glancing at his hands knotted in his lap. Please don’t say no, don’t say no -
“Oh,” his mother said, darting a nervous look at his dad. Dad raised his head slowly, and Clark tensed for the blow.
“Does he know anything about the outdoors?” he asked, and that really wasn’t the question Clark had been expecting.
He shook his head. “I doubt it.” He didn’t tell his father that was the reason he’d asked Lex; he knew Lex’s father had never done the kinds of things with him that Clark’s dad had gone out of his way to do with his son. He knew, though Lex would sooner die than admit it, that he probably would’ve done anything to have Jonathan Kent for a father. Clark couldn’t hope to match Lex’s material gifts to him, but he could give him a taste of what growing up in this family had been like. Sometimes he was sure that was exactly what Lex wanted from him, if he’d been the kind to tell.
And sometimes he didn’t have a clue what Lex wanted. It annoyed the hell out of him.
“So you’ll be doing all the work,” his father said sourly.
“Don’t worry,” Clark promised, smiling, “I’ll make sure he pulls his weight.”
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Well, there was one advantage to this little outing. Now Lex could truly say he had experienced Hell first hand.
“Okay, so if you just hammer that peg in the ground over there, we’ll be good,” Clark said, arm flung out to point at a spot on the forest floor. Lex didn’t see where he was pointing, because his eyes were currently glued to the curve of Clark’s back, which was encased in a white t-shirt so tight it looked like it had been spray-painted on. Those kids grow faster than you can keep them in clothes, he thought, an uncharacteristically hysterical laugh bubbling up his throat, fighting to be released. Below the t-shirt and the back was a pair of worn denim shorts that - no, no, he was not letting himself look at -
Shit. He just looked.
“Lex?”
“Yes,” he said, as though he’d been paying attention all along. “Right over - ”
Clark obligingly pointed again, and Lex forced his leaden feet to move. Bending to his task, he drew the canvas loop tight and positioned the stake in the ground.
He’d known there was a reason he hated the outdoors.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
So far, it hadn’t been going really well.
In the four hours since they’d arrived, Lex had scratched the paint on his Jag digging the tent out of the trunk (to be fair, Clark had offered to do it), whacked his thumb trying to drive one of the tent pegs into the ground, and jabbed a fish hook into the same thumb. He’d bitched about not being able to bring the fancy geodesic tent he’d bought at The Sharper Image yesterday (Clark had told him not to buy anything, and neither of them knew how to put up a tent like that) and about Clark insisting he turn off his cell phone.
“It’s strictly for emergencies,” he’d said firmly, plucking the phone from Lex’s fingers and jamming it into the front pocket of his shorts. Lex made a weird little sound as he watched - Clark figured he was pretty attached to it. But still, it was the weekend, and he wanted Lex to forget for even a couple of days that he was trying to take over the world.
“All right,” Lex said, clapping his hands together and wincing as he hit his bandaged thumb, “since I’m already roasting on the coals, how about I rub a couple of sticks together and try setting myself on fire?”
And that made absolutely no sense. Clark shrugged and pointed to the pile of deadfall he’d collected earlier. “Knock yourself out.”
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
“Okay, when I said knock yourself out,” Clark said, pressing the cold cloth to Lex’s forehead, “I didn’t mean it literally.”
Lex grabbed the cloth away from him. “Shut up, Clark.” Jesus Christ, he’d walked into a tree. But at least Clark had put his goddamned shirt back on.
Clark sat heavily on the log beside the fire - the one thing Lex had managed to accomplish today without serious injury. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
Lex looked up, surprised. “What for?”
Clark kept his gaze on the fire as he spoke. “I - I thought you might enjoy a trip like this,” he said after a pause. “Getting out and - ”
When he trailed off, Lex offered, “Experiencing the great outdoors?”
“That was part of it,” Clark said, finally turning to him. “But I wanted to - well, I guess I wanted to give you something you hadn’t had a lot of when you were a kid.” That too-knowing gaze held him captive. “Something simple. Uncomplicated.”
And suddenly Lex felt closer to a hundred than twenty, the weight of everything he’d been, everything he still was slamming down onto his shoulders and forcing his spine to yield to gravity. Clark’s sole intent this weekend had been to give a gift, the most precious one of all: the gift of time. And Lex had practically thrown it back in his face.
What do you know, he thought ruefully. You really are a bastard.
“Clark,” he said slowly, because for once the words didn’t come easily to him, “I’m the one who should apologize. I wasn’t - enthusiastic about this trip from the start.” At Clark’s hurt expression, he added, “Not because I didn’t want to spend time with you,” and oh, now the lies were starting, “but because - well, I’m not very good at doing uncomplicated.”
Clark’s expression softened into something that Lex might have labeled affection if he’d been given to fantasizing the absurd. “Yeah, I kind of noticed,” he said softly.
Lex couldn’t help but smile at that. “Hey, I made a damned good fire.”
“Yeah, you did.” Clark shrugged. “It’s no big deal. You’re a city boy, after all.”
Lex’s hands tightened reflexively on his knees. “Sometimes I think I was never a boy,” he said tightly, rising to his feet and leaving Clark wide-eyed and startled in his wake.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Clark waited a little while before going to look for Lex. He knew enough to give his friend some alone time, but with the luck Lex had been having so far today, Clark was worried he’d get himself eaten by bears.
He heard the soft, almost inaudible sound of splashing water as he approached the lake, and used his X-ray vision to pinpoint the source of the sound. Chances were it was an animal like a deer or a raccoon taking a drink at the edge of the -
Oh. No. It wasn’t an animal.
Switching back to normal vision as he reached the last line of trees before the lake, he peeked around a trunk to see Lex standing thigh-deep in the water, his back to the shore.
He wasn’t wearing any clothes. And he was beautiful.
He knew it was silly, but up until now he’d never thought a man could be beautiful. He’d seen plenty of naked guys in the showers and the locker rooms at school, but they were just - well, guys. Skinny, fat, compact, tall, well-muscled - they were all kids he’d known his whole life. He knew their skins nearly as well as he knew his own.
But Lex had always been different. Clark didn’t have that depth of history with him, and yet some days it seemed like they’d always known one another. Some days he felt like the awkward, bumbling kid to Lex’s man of the world, and some days he felt like he was the older one, almost a father, because there was so much stuff that Lex just didn’t get: stuff about friendship and love and even the reasons you should get up in the morning.
And what about tonight? some voice inside him asked. What is he to you tonight?
Clark was damned if he knew. He didn’t recognize Lex’s skin. It was pale, made ghostly by the bright moon, and if Clark looked closely he could see the way the lean muscles gathered and stretched beneath it, cat-like. Lex had always reminded him of a jungle predator, something exotic like a jaguar or a leopard, but he usually kept that part of himself closely buttoned up under protective layers of expensive cloth.
Seeing him like this was a little frightening, because Clark suddenly wanted to touch that skin, half to find out if he was real, half to find out if it felt as beautiful as it looked. He didn’t know what to do with that.
He only knew that for what seemed like hours, he watched Lex’s pale body, silvered by moonlight, skim effortlessly through the water, like he’d finally discovered a world that would welcome him.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
When Lex returned to the tent, he was exhausted and drained. Nevertheless, he was also sure he’d be up all night, because he was about to jam himself in a very small tent with Clark about a foot away.
There were no words for this kind of torture, but he thought that Amnesty International should hear about it.
He stripped down to his boxers and a t-shirt and gingerly negotiated the narrow space between their pallets, trying to stay as quiet as possible. As he was settling onto his own, though, he heard the rustle of blankets and a soft click, and suddenly the tent was filled with a dim electric light.
“You okay?” Clark asked sleepily, hair an inky stain against his white pillow.
“Fine,” Lex said, stretching out and feeling his muscles scream at him in protest. “I went for a swim.”
“Oh,” Clark said, seemingly at a loss. He looked away, then back. “I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”
Lex shook his head. “You didn’t.”
Clark propped himself up on an elbow. “We can go back in the morning, if you like.”
Lex clenched his jaw, momentarily torn. As much as he’d like to agree, he knew that going home now was not an option. In the first place, it would be admitting defeat, proof that he had no more control over his raging hormones than the dullest, horniest teenage boy. More importantly, though, it would be a rejection of Clark’s unselfish gift.
“No. I don’t want to go back. Not until you’ve had a chance to teach me some of what you know about the woods.”
Clark frowned slightly. “Why?”
“Because I don’t like feeling incompetent. And because I’d like you to show me what you know.”
“I can do that,” Clark said, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“Do you think I’ll manage to avoid killing myself tomorrow?”
Clark’s eyes twinkled merrily. “You can try, but remember: I know CPR.”
And oh, a reminder that Clark was an expert in mouth to mouth resuscitation was not what Lex needed right now. Attempting a neutral smile he knew probably appeared forced, he nodded and said, “Good night, Clark.”
A small line appeared between Clark’s brows as Lex rolled onto his back. “You have - you have a bruise,” he murmured, and before Lex could brace for it, Clark’s hand reached across the small space between them and touched his bare arm just below the sleeve of the t-shirt. The contact was shocking, electric.
Arousing.
Lex sucked in a startled breath at the feather-light touch, and Clark drew back slightly. “I’m sorry; does it hurt that badly?”
“No - I mean yes - ” Christ, he couldn’t be flustered, it was not in his nature to be flustered. “It’s fine,” he managed. “Just another one of the many injuries I’ve racked up today. Don’t worry about it.”
Clark looked up and met his gaze. “I should have asked you how your head was feeling.” His hand twitched as if wanting to touch that too, and God, if Clark started petting his head he was doomed.
“I’ll survive,” he said curtly, closing his eyes. “We’d better get some rest, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” Clark said after a moment. “Good night, Lex.” The light snapped off again, and there was more blanket rustling, and then everything was still.
Lex opened his eyes and stared sightlessly upwards until exhaustion finally claimed him.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
The next day was - interesting.
True to his word, Lex awoke eager to learn the secrets of outdoor living, though Clark could tell from the dark circles under his eyes that he’d gotten about as much sleep as Clark had. After breakfast, Clark started him out with some basic orienteering and compass work, and by late afternoon they’d moved on to building emergency shelters. Lex managed to construct a fairly decent lean-to, and he didn’t once poke himself in the eye with the spruce boughs or cut himself with the hacksaw.
“This is great,” Clark declared from inside the structure, beckoning to Lex. “Come on in.”
Crouched down on his knees to peer in the opening, Lex shook his head. “There isn’t enough room for both of us.”
“Sure there is. Come on.”
Something indefinable flitted across Lex’s features before the mask settled again, and then he was crawling inside. He settled himself beside Clark, tension radiating off him in waves, and Clark wondered how he’d managed to trip another wire in the minefield that was Lex Luthor.
“You did a great job,” Clark said again, inanely. “This should keep someone dry in a light rain, anyway.”
“No good for tornadoes?” Lex tilted his head back to study the interweaved lattice of boughs just over his head, and Clark found himself staring at the pale curve of his throat.
“Uh, well, no,” he said, his brain dulled by a sudden rush of heat to his extremities.
“I was kidding, Clark.” Lex lowered his head to look at Clark, and his lips parted slightly on a faint gasp. Oh, wow, Lex was looking at him in that intense way he had, but there was something else in it this time, something a little like -
- like fear. Lex was afraid. Afraid of what? Clark? But that didn’t make any sense.
“Yeah, I - uh - I knew that.” God, it was like his brain was wading through molasses. He was abruptly revisited by that knife-sharp urge from last night, and before he realized it his hand was rising, the need to press his fingertips to Lex’s skin suddenly overwhelming. Clark wanted to reassure him, to take away that nervous look in his eyes.
He never connected. Lex broke the spell by shaking his head once, almost violently, as though he’d been slapped. The next thing Clark knew, he was looking at Lex’s ass as he crawled out of the lean-to.
It was another minute or so before Clark could make his arms and legs work well enough to follow him.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
If he’d been smart, he should have packed up the car and driven Clark home after supper.
Instead, they were sitting here again by the fire, talking about everything and nothing. Wanting to remind himself that Clark was, by most definitions, still a boy, he’d led him into a series of reminiscences about his camping trips with his father. He realized he’d badly miscalculated, however, when all of Clark’s homespun stories only made him yearn even more for his warmth and light.
It wasn’t as though he hadn’t known that his feelings for Clark Kent were tangled and complicated, but he hadn’t really needed the reminder tonight. He felt strangely fragile, the way he’d felt when he woke up in the hospital to find his father looking down at him in disgust, and on the day of his mother’s funeral, and on the day of Julian’s. He hated that feeling, had done everything in his power to ensure he never felt it again. And now a Kansas farm boy with a wide smile and enough secrets for any ten people had managed, through no fault of his own, to break through his control. He was covered in hairline fractures, waiting helplessly for the moment when everything would shatter.
“Lex?”
“Hmm.” Lex looked up. “I’m sorry. I must have drifted off.”
“You’ve had a long day.” Clark’s voice was quiet and soothing, momentarily calming him.
He cocked his head. “So have you.”
Clark shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
“You make me sound like a couch potato,” Lex said, a trace of irritation creeping into his voice.
“Oh, no!” Clark protested, leaning forward and shifting toward him so that their knees were almost touching. “I didn’t mean that. You’re in great shape, really.”
“Thank you,” Lex said dryly, though his heart had started to hammer in his chest again.
“Really great - um. I’m going to shut up now.”
“Maybe we should call it a night.”
Clark blinked at him, his gaze never straying from Lex’s face. “Were you planning to go for another swim?”
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“Oh. It’s just - if you had been planning to go, I was thinking I’d go with you this time.”
“Oh.” Definitely not, then, Lex thought, even as the image of Clark naked and dripping wet assailed his dangerously weakened psyche. “Well, you can certainly go if you like.”
Clark stared at him for another moment, mouth working, before he said brightly, “Maybe I will.” He rose to his feet and looked down at Lex, who had to crane his neck to hold his gaze. “Don’t worry about the fire. I’ll douse it when I get back.” He stripped off his shirt, and Lex looked away, though not before he saw a vast expanse of golden, firelit skin.
He only allowed his head to rest in his hands when he was sure Clark had disappeared into the darkness.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
When Clark returned, he could tell by the sound of Lex’s heartbeat and breathing that he wasn’t asleep. He debated walking into the tent naked, then extracted his boxers from the wadded up pile of clothes under his arm and slipped them on. He gasped aloud as the material slid over his sensitized skin; the water had been cool but not overly cold, just enough to revive his sluggish brain and make his body tingle pleasantly after he left it. He was thinking clearly now - at least he thought he was. And he’d done a lot of thinking while he was swimming around the lake.
Too bad he hadn’t come to any conclusions. He’d have to ask Lex if he had any.
But when he opened the tent and crawled in, Lex didn’t move a muscle, just lay there pretending to be asleep. His mind frantically scrambled for things to say, ways to get the ball rolling, so to speak, but nothing sensible came to him.
So, Lex, I’d kind of like to touch you. A lot. Would you mind?
Maybe there was no sensible way to do something like this, he realized after discarding about a hundred possibilities. Maybe it was hopeless. Besides, what if Lex didn’t feel the same way about him? Just because he came over a lot and gave him presents and laughed at his jokes and looked at him all the time like he was hungry for something -
- oh. Well. You could interpret those things a certain way, maybe. But whatever Lex’s feelings, the point was that he didn’t seem inclined to act on them. And when Lex didn’t want to do something, it was nearly impossible to get him to do it.
Thoughts chasing one another like a dog after its tail, Clark slowly drifted in and out of consciousness, finally dozing off around midnight. He was roused some time later by the sound of a faint, distressed whimpering sound. Before he was completely awake, he blindly searched for the origin of the sound, and found it a foot away.
Lex was dreaming. And from the sounds of things, it wasn’t a good one.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
He was alone, and he was cold. His bones were brittle and grated against one another as he shuffled across the room. Opening the door, he found Clark standing on his front step, the flesh hanging in tatters from his body. Behind him, tornadoes scoured the barren landscape, sweeping up vast clouds of dust and ash into the blackened sky.
“Why?” Clark demanded through broken lips. “Why did you do it?”
Lex opened his mouth to protest that he hadn’t, but they would both know it was a lie. Aloud, he said, “I was sure this wouldn’t happen.”
Clark only shook his head sadly. At least Lex thought it was sadness; he couldn’t distinguish expression through the blood and gore. “That’s another lie, Lex. It’s time to stop lying.”
“Because,” Lex croaked, “because I wanted to prove I didn’t need you.”
Suddenly there was a blinding flash of light, and when he could see again, Clark was standing before him healthy and whole, and the world beyond the door was bright and sunny. Lex felt the cold ache seep out of his bones, leaving behind only relief and warmth.
“You see?” Clark said, grinning. “That wasn’t so hard.” He stepped forward and enfolded Lex in a hug, and Lex fisted his hands into the back of his shirt and clung to him like a small child, sobbing into his shoulder.
After a time, he realized he was awake, and he was being cradled tightly in strong arms, and someone was crooning soft words in his ear, and Jesus Christ, that person was Clark.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you, come on, you’re safe, shhhh - ”
He pushed at the hard, bare chest, heart hammering against his ribs, and stared up at Clark. The battery-powered light was on again, lighting him eerily from below.
“Hey,” Clark said softly, pulling back to swipe a thumb over Lex’s cheek as though he’d been doing it for years.
Lex shoved his way out of Clark’s arms, ignoring the strangely bereft look in Clark’s eyes. “I’m fine,” he grated, and shit, he was miles from fine and they both knew it. He swiped at his own cheeks with the back of his hand; it came away wet.
He hadn’t cried since his mother died.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone your terrible secret.”
Lex’s head snapped up. “What did I say?”
Clark shook his head sadly. “You didn’t say anything. I’m talking about your biggest secret of all.”
When Lex frowned at him, Clark murmured, “The secret that you’re human.”
Lex couldn’t help it; he laughed aloud. “Oh, believe me, I’m human,” he said, trying to regain some small part of his equilibrium and failing miserably. “Far too human.”
And then, to Lex’s utter shock, Clark raised a shaking hand to Lex’s face and cupped his jaw with such gentleness that Lex shook a little himself. He looked into Lex’s eyes as though he were searching for the answer to the meaning of life.
Wouldn’t it be ironic if that were true, Lex thought, even as Clark dipped his head and - oh Christ -
“What’s it like?” Clark whispered, right before his mouth brushed Lex’s.
By this point Lex had forgotten exactly what it was, and then Clark’s mouth on his drove every other rational thought out of his head, because holy mother of God, Clark was much better at this than any teenage boy ought to be. Lex’s hands were gliding up his bare back to tangle in his hair before he realized what he was doing. Summoning the force of will to stop, however, required a few more seconds of concentration. Clark’s fingers sliding up his chest, bringing Lex’s t-shirt with it, were like a bucket of cold water thrown over his head.
“Clark, stop, stop.” If asked, Lex would not admit those three words were panted. Gathering the last of his resolve, he yanked the hem of his shirt back down. “This isn’t a good idea.”
Clark’s pink tongue darted out to lick at his kiss-swollen lips, and Lex choked back a groan. “Why not?”
“Well, why don’t we start with the part where you’re seventeen and I’m twenty-three.” Lex tried to summon the strength to shift away from Clark’s heat, but he couldn’t seem to manage it.
“I’m not a kid,” Clark said peevishly.
“By all the definitions that count, you are,” Lex corrected, earning him a glare.
“Since when have you worried about rules?” Clark said, leaning in.
Lex planted a hand firmly in the center of Clark’s - very well-muscled, damn - chest. “Since I found out your father owns a shotgun.”
Clark grinned and craned his neck to deliver a brief peck to Lex’s jugular. “I won’t let him hurt you.”
“Clark, you’re not - oh, please - being sensible,” Lex murmured. His hand curled into a fist, muscles weakening as Clark’s tongue licked a stripe down the side of his neck.
“Maybe I don’t want to be sensible. And neither do you - I can feel it.” Clark raised his head and stole another fast, deep kiss, and Lex did groan this time.
“It doesn’t matter what I want. I can’t - have this.”
Clark bit his chin softly, soothing it with the tip of his tongue afterward; Lex shut his eyes. “Why? Why won’t you let yourself have something good?”
And before Lex could think about the words, they escaped his throat unbidden: “Because I destroy everything good that I touch.”
He opened his eyes to find Clark staring at him, expression a mixture of shock and bone-deep sadness.
“Oh, my God,” he whispered. “You really believe that, don’t you?” He reached out to touch Lex’s face, but Lex jerked away from his hand.
“Don’t psychoanalyze me,” he snapped.
Clark’s hand moved to his shoulder, stroking it gently. “It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said. “It’s okay to want things. To need them.”
Lex shook his head, jaw clenching. “I don’t need anything.”
Hands on his face, tilting his head up, and he tried to move away but he was held fast, trapped.
“It’s time to stop lying,” Clark murmured, and Lex shuddered at that, at the image of the battered and beaten Clark that flashed before his eyes for a moment.
“Clark - ” he said, closer to pleading than he’d been in over a decade.
“No,” Clark said firmly. “Not any more.” Taking Lex’s hands in his, he guided them to lie flat on Clark's chest. Lex could feel his heart, beating fast and strong against his fingers, almost thrumming like an engine. “Listen to me. You can’t destroy this. I promise I won’t let you.”
Lex opened his mouth, but Clark kissed him again before he could speak, and Lex pressed his fingers into Clark’s flesh as hard as he dared, nails biting in.
“Shh,” Clark said, hands pushing up Lex’s t-shirt, exposing him to the light, “it’s okay. I won’t let you. I won’t let you.”
Fandom: Smallville
Characters: Clark Kent/Lex Luthor
Word Count: 4800
Rating: NC-17, but only for the reason listed below. No serious smut. For this reason, I may eventually have to write a sequel.
Summary: Lex goes on the camping trip from hell.
Author's Notes: Warning: Clark is seventeen in this fic. Run screaming if that does not appeal.
“You want me to - what?” Lex asked, shocked.
At first, Clark merely gazed back at him in that patient, older-than-his-years way of his. Lex chalked it up to clean, wholesome farm living, but it still annoyed the hell out of him. There was no way that a seventeen-year-old should be able to go head to head with him in the inscrutability department.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go camping with me some weekend,” Clark said again. “Now that summer’s here, it’s a great time to visit the State Forest.”
That’s what Lex had thought he’d said. He opened his mouth to offer some excuse, but nearly all of them had already been used by his father on him. Not terribly original.
And since the only one he was certain truly belonged to him was I’m not sure you want to be alone in the woods with the dirty old man who’s had somewhat impure thoughts about you almost from the moment you met him, Lex could find no excuse to give.
“I’d love to,” Lex heard himself say, and the wide, happy grin he received in return was almost worth the forty-eight hours of torture he’d just agreed to undergo.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Clark debated about telling his parents he was going with Lex, but ultimately his conscience poked and prodded at him until he let them know the night before.
“I thought you were going with Pete,” his mother said, while his father made a face that made him look like he’d smelled something that had been dead for a few weeks. “Didn’t you say you were going with Pete?”
“Pete’s gone to Chicago for two weeks,” Clark said, glancing at his hands knotted in his lap. Please don’t say no, don’t say no -
“Oh,” his mother said, darting a nervous look at his dad. Dad raised his head slowly, and Clark tensed for the blow.
“Does he know anything about the outdoors?” he asked, and that really wasn’t the question Clark had been expecting.
He shook his head. “I doubt it.” He didn’t tell his father that was the reason he’d asked Lex; he knew Lex’s father had never done the kinds of things with him that Clark’s dad had gone out of his way to do with his son. He knew, though Lex would sooner die than admit it, that he probably would’ve done anything to have Jonathan Kent for a father. Clark couldn’t hope to match Lex’s material gifts to him, but he could give him a taste of what growing up in this family had been like. Sometimes he was sure that was exactly what Lex wanted from him, if he’d been the kind to tell.
And sometimes he didn’t have a clue what Lex wanted. It annoyed the hell out of him.
“So you’ll be doing all the work,” his father said sourly.
“Don’t worry,” Clark promised, smiling, “I’ll make sure he pulls his weight.”
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Well, there was one advantage to this little outing. Now Lex could truly say he had experienced Hell first hand.
“Okay, so if you just hammer that peg in the ground over there, we’ll be good,” Clark said, arm flung out to point at a spot on the forest floor. Lex didn’t see where he was pointing, because his eyes were currently glued to the curve of Clark’s back, which was encased in a white t-shirt so tight it looked like it had been spray-painted on. Those kids grow faster than you can keep them in clothes, he thought, an uncharacteristically hysterical laugh bubbling up his throat, fighting to be released. Below the t-shirt and the back was a pair of worn denim shorts that - no, no, he was not letting himself look at -
Shit. He just looked.
“Lex?”
“Yes,” he said, as though he’d been paying attention all along. “Right over - ”
Clark obligingly pointed again, and Lex forced his leaden feet to move. Bending to his task, he drew the canvas loop tight and positioned the stake in the ground.
He’d known there was a reason he hated the outdoors.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
So far, it hadn’t been going really well.
In the four hours since they’d arrived, Lex had scratched the paint on his Jag digging the tent out of the trunk (to be fair, Clark had offered to do it), whacked his thumb trying to drive one of the tent pegs into the ground, and jabbed a fish hook into the same thumb. He’d bitched about not being able to bring the fancy geodesic tent he’d bought at The Sharper Image yesterday (Clark had told him not to buy anything, and neither of them knew how to put up a tent like that) and about Clark insisting he turn off his cell phone.
“It’s strictly for emergencies,” he’d said firmly, plucking the phone from Lex’s fingers and jamming it into the front pocket of his shorts. Lex made a weird little sound as he watched - Clark figured he was pretty attached to it. But still, it was the weekend, and he wanted Lex to forget for even a couple of days that he was trying to take over the world.
“All right,” Lex said, clapping his hands together and wincing as he hit his bandaged thumb, “since I’m already roasting on the coals, how about I rub a couple of sticks together and try setting myself on fire?”
And that made absolutely no sense. Clark shrugged and pointed to the pile of deadfall he’d collected earlier. “Knock yourself out.”
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
“Okay, when I said knock yourself out,” Clark said, pressing the cold cloth to Lex’s forehead, “I didn’t mean it literally.”
Lex grabbed the cloth away from him. “Shut up, Clark.” Jesus Christ, he’d walked into a tree. But at least Clark had put his goddamned shirt back on.
Clark sat heavily on the log beside the fire - the one thing Lex had managed to accomplish today without serious injury. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
Lex looked up, surprised. “What for?”
Clark kept his gaze on the fire as he spoke. “I - I thought you might enjoy a trip like this,” he said after a pause. “Getting out and - ”
When he trailed off, Lex offered, “Experiencing the great outdoors?”
“That was part of it,” Clark said, finally turning to him. “But I wanted to - well, I guess I wanted to give you something you hadn’t had a lot of when you were a kid.” That too-knowing gaze held him captive. “Something simple. Uncomplicated.”
And suddenly Lex felt closer to a hundred than twenty, the weight of everything he’d been, everything he still was slamming down onto his shoulders and forcing his spine to yield to gravity. Clark’s sole intent this weekend had been to give a gift, the most precious one of all: the gift of time. And Lex had practically thrown it back in his face.
What do you know, he thought ruefully. You really are a bastard.
“Clark,” he said slowly, because for once the words didn’t come easily to him, “I’m the one who should apologize. I wasn’t - enthusiastic about this trip from the start.” At Clark’s hurt expression, he added, “Not because I didn’t want to spend time with you,” and oh, now the lies were starting, “but because - well, I’m not very good at doing uncomplicated.”
Clark’s expression softened into something that Lex might have labeled affection if he’d been given to fantasizing the absurd. “Yeah, I kind of noticed,” he said softly.
Lex couldn’t help but smile at that. “Hey, I made a damned good fire.”
“Yeah, you did.” Clark shrugged. “It’s no big deal. You’re a city boy, after all.”
Lex’s hands tightened reflexively on his knees. “Sometimes I think I was never a boy,” he said tightly, rising to his feet and leaving Clark wide-eyed and startled in his wake.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Clark waited a little while before going to look for Lex. He knew enough to give his friend some alone time, but with the luck Lex had been having so far today, Clark was worried he’d get himself eaten by bears.
He heard the soft, almost inaudible sound of splashing water as he approached the lake, and used his X-ray vision to pinpoint the source of the sound. Chances were it was an animal like a deer or a raccoon taking a drink at the edge of the -
Oh. No. It wasn’t an animal.
Switching back to normal vision as he reached the last line of trees before the lake, he peeked around a trunk to see Lex standing thigh-deep in the water, his back to the shore.
He wasn’t wearing any clothes. And he was beautiful.
He knew it was silly, but up until now he’d never thought a man could be beautiful. He’d seen plenty of naked guys in the showers and the locker rooms at school, but they were just - well, guys. Skinny, fat, compact, tall, well-muscled - they were all kids he’d known his whole life. He knew their skins nearly as well as he knew his own.
But Lex had always been different. Clark didn’t have that depth of history with him, and yet some days it seemed like they’d always known one another. Some days he felt like the awkward, bumbling kid to Lex’s man of the world, and some days he felt like he was the older one, almost a father, because there was so much stuff that Lex just didn’t get: stuff about friendship and love and even the reasons you should get up in the morning.
And what about tonight? some voice inside him asked. What is he to you tonight?
Clark was damned if he knew. He didn’t recognize Lex’s skin. It was pale, made ghostly by the bright moon, and if Clark looked closely he could see the way the lean muscles gathered and stretched beneath it, cat-like. Lex had always reminded him of a jungle predator, something exotic like a jaguar or a leopard, but he usually kept that part of himself closely buttoned up under protective layers of expensive cloth.
Seeing him like this was a little frightening, because Clark suddenly wanted to touch that skin, half to find out if he was real, half to find out if it felt as beautiful as it looked. He didn’t know what to do with that.
He only knew that for what seemed like hours, he watched Lex’s pale body, silvered by moonlight, skim effortlessly through the water, like he’d finally discovered a world that would welcome him.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
When Lex returned to the tent, he was exhausted and drained. Nevertheless, he was also sure he’d be up all night, because he was about to jam himself in a very small tent with Clark about a foot away.
There were no words for this kind of torture, but he thought that Amnesty International should hear about it.
He stripped down to his boxers and a t-shirt and gingerly negotiated the narrow space between their pallets, trying to stay as quiet as possible. As he was settling onto his own, though, he heard the rustle of blankets and a soft click, and suddenly the tent was filled with a dim electric light.
“You okay?” Clark asked sleepily, hair an inky stain against his white pillow.
“Fine,” Lex said, stretching out and feeling his muscles scream at him in protest. “I went for a swim.”
“Oh,” Clark said, seemingly at a loss. He looked away, then back. “I’m sorry if I said something wrong.”
Lex shook his head. “You didn’t.”
Clark propped himself up on an elbow. “We can go back in the morning, if you like.”
Lex clenched his jaw, momentarily torn. As much as he’d like to agree, he knew that going home now was not an option. In the first place, it would be admitting defeat, proof that he had no more control over his raging hormones than the dullest, horniest teenage boy. More importantly, though, it would be a rejection of Clark’s unselfish gift.
“No. I don’t want to go back. Not until you’ve had a chance to teach me some of what you know about the woods.”
Clark frowned slightly. “Why?”
“Because I don’t like feeling incompetent. And because I’d like you to show me what you know.”
“I can do that,” Clark said, a slow smile spreading across his face.
“Do you think I’ll manage to avoid killing myself tomorrow?”
Clark’s eyes twinkled merrily. “You can try, but remember: I know CPR.”
And oh, a reminder that Clark was an expert in mouth to mouth resuscitation was not what Lex needed right now. Attempting a neutral smile he knew probably appeared forced, he nodded and said, “Good night, Clark.”
A small line appeared between Clark’s brows as Lex rolled onto his back. “You have - you have a bruise,” he murmured, and before Lex could brace for it, Clark’s hand reached across the small space between them and touched his bare arm just below the sleeve of the t-shirt. The contact was shocking, electric.
Arousing.
Lex sucked in a startled breath at the feather-light touch, and Clark drew back slightly. “I’m sorry; does it hurt that badly?”
“No - I mean yes - ” Christ, he couldn’t be flustered, it was not in his nature to be flustered. “It’s fine,” he managed. “Just another one of the many injuries I’ve racked up today. Don’t worry about it.”
Clark looked up and met his gaze. “I should have asked you how your head was feeling.” His hand twitched as if wanting to touch that too, and God, if Clark started petting his head he was doomed.
“I’ll survive,” he said curtly, closing his eyes. “We’d better get some rest, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” Clark said after a moment. “Good night, Lex.” The light snapped off again, and there was more blanket rustling, and then everything was still.
Lex opened his eyes and stared sightlessly upwards until exhaustion finally claimed him.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
The next day was - interesting.
True to his word, Lex awoke eager to learn the secrets of outdoor living, though Clark could tell from the dark circles under his eyes that he’d gotten about as much sleep as Clark had. After breakfast, Clark started him out with some basic orienteering and compass work, and by late afternoon they’d moved on to building emergency shelters. Lex managed to construct a fairly decent lean-to, and he didn’t once poke himself in the eye with the spruce boughs or cut himself with the hacksaw.
“This is great,” Clark declared from inside the structure, beckoning to Lex. “Come on in.”
Crouched down on his knees to peer in the opening, Lex shook his head. “There isn’t enough room for both of us.”
“Sure there is. Come on.”
Something indefinable flitted across Lex’s features before the mask settled again, and then he was crawling inside. He settled himself beside Clark, tension radiating off him in waves, and Clark wondered how he’d managed to trip another wire in the minefield that was Lex Luthor.
“You did a great job,” Clark said again, inanely. “This should keep someone dry in a light rain, anyway.”
“No good for tornadoes?” Lex tilted his head back to study the interweaved lattice of boughs just over his head, and Clark found himself staring at the pale curve of his throat.
“Uh, well, no,” he said, his brain dulled by a sudden rush of heat to his extremities.
“I was kidding, Clark.” Lex lowered his head to look at Clark, and his lips parted slightly on a faint gasp. Oh, wow, Lex was looking at him in that intense way he had, but there was something else in it this time, something a little like -
- like fear. Lex was afraid. Afraid of what? Clark? But that didn’t make any sense.
“Yeah, I - uh - I knew that.” God, it was like his brain was wading through molasses. He was abruptly revisited by that knife-sharp urge from last night, and before he realized it his hand was rising, the need to press his fingertips to Lex’s skin suddenly overwhelming. Clark wanted to reassure him, to take away that nervous look in his eyes.
He never connected. Lex broke the spell by shaking his head once, almost violently, as though he’d been slapped. The next thing Clark knew, he was looking at Lex’s ass as he crawled out of the lean-to.
It was another minute or so before Clark could make his arms and legs work well enough to follow him.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
If he’d been smart, he should have packed up the car and driven Clark home after supper.
Instead, they were sitting here again by the fire, talking about everything and nothing. Wanting to remind himself that Clark was, by most definitions, still a boy, he’d led him into a series of reminiscences about his camping trips with his father. He realized he’d badly miscalculated, however, when all of Clark’s homespun stories only made him yearn even more for his warmth and light.
It wasn’t as though he hadn’t known that his feelings for Clark Kent were tangled and complicated, but he hadn’t really needed the reminder tonight. He felt strangely fragile, the way he’d felt when he woke up in the hospital to find his father looking down at him in disgust, and on the day of his mother’s funeral, and on the day of Julian’s. He hated that feeling, had done everything in his power to ensure he never felt it again. And now a Kansas farm boy with a wide smile and enough secrets for any ten people had managed, through no fault of his own, to break through his control. He was covered in hairline fractures, waiting helplessly for the moment when everything would shatter.
“Lex?”
“Hmm.” Lex looked up. “I’m sorry. I must have drifted off.”
“You’ve had a long day.” Clark’s voice was quiet and soothing, momentarily calming him.
He cocked his head. “So have you.”
Clark shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
“You make me sound like a couch potato,” Lex said, a trace of irritation creeping into his voice.
“Oh, no!” Clark protested, leaning forward and shifting toward him so that their knees were almost touching. “I didn’t mean that. You’re in great shape, really.”
“Thank you,” Lex said dryly, though his heart had started to hammer in his chest again.
“Really great - um. I’m going to shut up now.”
“Maybe we should call it a night.”
Clark blinked at him, his gaze never straying from Lex’s face. “Were you planning to go for another swim?”
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“Oh. It’s just - if you had been planning to go, I was thinking I’d go with you this time.”
“Oh.” Definitely not, then, Lex thought, even as the image of Clark naked and dripping wet assailed his dangerously weakened psyche. “Well, you can certainly go if you like.”
Clark stared at him for another moment, mouth working, before he said brightly, “Maybe I will.” He rose to his feet and looked down at Lex, who had to crane his neck to hold his gaze. “Don’t worry about the fire. I’ll douse it when I get back.” He stripped off his shirt, and Lex looked away, though not before he saw a vast expanse of golden, firelit skin.
He only allowed his head to rest in his hands when he was sure Clark had disappeared into the darkness.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
When Clark returned, he could tell by the sound of Lex’s heartbeat and breathing that he wasn’t asleep. He debated walking into the tent naked, then extracted his boxers from the wadded up pile of clothes under his arm and slipped them on. He gasped aloud as the material slid over his sensitized skin; the water had been cool but not overly cold, just enough to revive his sluggish brain and make his body tingle pleasantly after he left it. He was thinking clearly now - at least he thought he was. And he’d done a lot of thinking while he was swimming around the lake.
Too bad he hadn’t come to any conclusions. He’d have to ask Lex if he had any.
But when he opened the tent and crawled in, Lex didn’t move a muscle, just lay there pretending to be asleep. His mind frantically scrambled for things to say, ways to get the ball rolling, so to speak, but nothing sensible came to him.
So, Lex, I’d kind of like to touch you. A lot. Would you mind?
Maybe there was no sensible way to do something like this, he realized after discarding about a hundred possibilities. Maybe it was hopeless. Besides, what if Lex didn’t feel the same way about him? Just because he came over a lot and gave him presents and laughed at his jokes and looked at him all the time like he was hungry for something -
- oh. Well. You could interpret those things a certain way, maybe. But whatever Lex’s feelings, the point was that he didn’t seem inclined to act on them. And when Lex didn’t want to do something, it was nearly impossible to get him to do it.
Thoughts chasing one another like a dog after its tail, Clark slowly drifted in and out of consciousness, finally dozing off around midnight. He was roused some time later by the sound of a faint, distressed whimpering sound. Before he was completely awake, he blindly searched for the origin of the sound, and found it a foot away.
Lex was dreaming. And from the sounds of things, it wasn’t a good one.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
He was alone, and he was cold. His bones were brittle and grated against one another as he shuffled across the room. Opening the door, he found Clark standing on his front step, the flesh hanging in tatters from his body. Behind him, tornadoes scoured the barren landscape, sweeping up vast clouds of dust and ash into the blackened sky.
“Why?” Clark demanded through broken lips. “Why did you do it?”
Lex opened his mouth to protest that he hadn’t, but they would both know it was a lie. Aloud, he said, “I was sure this wouldn’t happen.”
Clark only shook his head sadly. At least Lex thought it was sadness; he couldn’t distinguish expression through the blood and gore. “That’s another lie, Lex. It’s time to stop lying.”
“Because,” Lex croaked, “because I wanted to prove I didn’t need you.”
Suddenly there was a blinding flash of light, and when he could see again, Clark was standing before him healthy and whole, and the world beyond the door was bright and sunny. Lex felt the cold ache seep out of his bones, leaving behind only relief and warmth.
“You see?” Clark said, grinning. “That wasn’t so hard.” He stepped forward and enfolded Lex in a hug, and Lex fisted his hands into the back of his shirt and clung to him like a small child, sobbing into his shoulder.
After a time, he realized he was awake, and he was being cradled tightly in strong arms, and someone was crooning soft words in his ear, and Jesus Christ, that person was Clark.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you, come on, you’re safe, shhhh - ”
He pushed at the hard, bare chest, heart hammering against his ribs, and stared up at Clark. The battery-powered light was on again, lighting him eerily from below.
“Hey,” Clark said softly, pulling back to swipe a thumb over Lex’s cheek as though he’d been doing it for years.
Lex shoved his way out of Clark’s arms, ignoring the strangely bereft look in Clark’s eyes. “I’m fine,” he grated, and shit, he was miles from fine and they both knew it. He swiped at his own cheeks with the back of his hand; it came away wet.
He hadn’t cried since his mother died.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone your terrible secret.”
Lex’s head snapped up. “What did I say?”
Clark shook his head sadly. “You didn’t say anything. I’m talking about your biggest secret of all.”
When Lex frowned at him, Clark murmured, “The secret that you’re human.”
Lex couldn’t help it; he laughed aloud. “Oh, believe me, I’m human,” he said, trying to regain some small part of his equilibrium and failing miserably. “Far too human.”
And then, to Lex’s utter shock, Clark raised a shaking hand to Lex’s face and cupped his jaw with such gentleness that Lex shook a little himself. He looked into Lex’s eyes as though he were searching for the answer to the meaning of life.
Wouldn’t it be ironic if that were true, Lex thought, even as Clark dipped his head and - oh Christ -
“What’s it like?” Clark whispered, right before his mouth brushed Lex’s.
By this point Lex had forgotten exactly what it was, and then Clark’s mouth on his drove every other rational thought out of his head, because holy mother of God, Clark was much better at this than any teenage boy ought to be. Lex’s hands were gliding up his bare back to tangle in his hair before he realized what he was doing. Summoning the force of will to stop, however, required a few more seconds of concentration. Clark’s fingers sliding up his chest, bringing Lex’s t-shirt with it, were like a bucket of cold water thrown over his head.
“Clark, stop, stop.” If asked, Lex would not admit those three words were panted. Gathering the last of his resolve, he yanked the hem of his shirt back down. “This isn’t a good idea.”
Clark’s pink tongue darted out to lick at his kiss-swollen lips, and Lex choked back a groan. “Why not?”
“Well, why don’t we start with the part where you’re seventeen and I’m twenty-three.” Lex tried to summon the strength to shift away from Clark’s heat, but he couldn’t seem to manage it.
“I’m not a kid,” Clark said peevishly.
“By all the definitions that count, you are,” Lex corrected, earning him a glare.
“Since when have you worried about rules?” Clark said, leaning in.
Lex planted a hand firmly in the center of Clark’s - very well-muscled, damn - chest. “Since I found out your father owns a shotgun.”
Clark grinned and craned his neck to deliver a brief peck to Lex’s jugular. “I won’t let him hurt you.”
“Clark, you’re not - oh, please - being sensible,” Lex murmured. His hand curled into a fist, muscles weakening as Clark’s tongue licked a stripe down the side of his neck.
“Maybe I don’t want to be sensible. And neither do you - I can feel it.” Clark raised his head and stole another fast, deep kiss, and Lex did groan this time.
“It doesn’t matter what I want. I can’t - have this.”
Clark bit his chin softly, soothing it with the tip of his tongue afterward; Lex shut his eyes. “Why? Why won’t you let yourself have something good?”
And before Lex could think about the words, they escaped his throat unbidden: “Because I destroy everything good that I touch.”
He opened his eyes to find Clark staring at him, expression a mixture of shock and bone-deep sadness.
“Oh, my God,” he whispered. “You really believe that, don’t you?” He reached out to touch Lex’s face, but Lex jerked away from his hand.
“Don’t psychoanalyze me,” he snapped.
Clark’s hand moved to his shoulder, stroking it gently. “It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said. “It’s okay to want things. To need them.”
Lex shook his head, jaw clenching. “I don’t need anything.”
Hands on his face, tilting his head up, and he tried to move away but he was held fast, trapped.
“It’s time to stop lying,” Clark murmured, and Lex shuddered at that, at the image of the battered and beaten Clark that flashed before his eyes for a moment.
“Clark - ” he said, closer to pleading than he’d been in over a decade.
“No,” Clark said firmly. “Not any more.” Taking Lex’s hands in his, he guided them to lie flat on Clark's chest. Lex could feel his heart, beating fast and strong against his fingers, almost thrumming like an engine. “Listen to me. You can’t destroy this. I promise I won’t let you.”
Lex opened his mouth, but Clark kissed him again before he could speak, and Lex pressed his fingers into Clark’s flesh as hard as he dared, nails biting in.
“Shh,” Clark said, hands pushing up Lex’s t-shirt, exposing him to the light, “it’s okay. I won’t let you. I won’t let you.”