TITLE: What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? [Chapter One]
AUTHOR: Nymph Du Pave
PAIRING: Lex Luther/Clark Kent.
SUMMARY: Slash: A fluffy story from Lex's POV about love [CLex lovin' wink-wink>], family and the holidays. CK/LxLr
DISCLAIMER: WB and whomever else own this wonderfully cute show. I am merely borrowing characters to use in my own evil ways, and will return them as mentally cognizant and stable as when I took them [with the exception of the incredibly handsome and elegant Michael Rosenbaum of whom I might never let go ;)].
FEEDBACK: Oh, please!! Do tell me everything!! ;)
AUTHOR'S EMAIL: firstname.lastname@example.org
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Has not been beta'd, sorry. Follows "Cold". The events of "Hourglass" and "Jitters" never happened. Also, I wrote this seeing Lex as 23 and Clark as 17. Just a personal preference, nothing that I push on the readers [except right here :)].
What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?
Lex let up on the accelerator and slowed, not from any sense of self-preservation but more from nerves. He was now only a mile from the Kent farm, and his eyes briefly pulled away from the snow-slicked road and over to the large red, gold and green bag sitting in the passenger seat, containing three festively-wrapped parcels. Looking back to the road, he shifted anxiously, a little nervous about the damned things.
He had wanted to get something for Clark- more as an excuse to see the boy than anything else- and then had instead found a jacket that he figured would have looked great on Clark's mother. He realized that he already had the perfect gift for his best- and only- friend at home, but at the same time recognized that he couldn't leave Jonathon Kent out of the present loop just because the man didn't like him. So he had mulled for a day or so over just what peace offering to pick up. Then it had hit him, almost out of the blue.
The last time Clark had been over at the manor dropping off the produce, Lex had invited him in- just like every time Clark came over for any reason- and the boy had been laughing over the most recent argument between his parents. His father and his motorcycle had found another way to get under Martha's skin, and now Jonathon needed a new part. One that he couldn't get until after Christmas because all of the stores would be closed.
Closed to him, at least, thought Lex. He didn't intend to share his methods of acquiring the part with Jonathon, but hoped that the gift would at least put him in the "not entirely despicable" category of the man's mind. He wasn't holding his breath though.
He pulled into the driveway and stopped the car, grabbing the bag of presents before he stepped out of the Porsche and headed for the front deck.
Startled, he looked up to the roof, and was even more surprised to find Clark standing there with a cup of something steaming in his hands. "We heard you drive up."
Lex decided to go with a less obvious question than 'What the hell are you doing on the roof?'.
"What's your beverage?"
Clark grinned. "Hot cocoa. Wanna come up?"
Lex swallowed. He'd never been one for heights at all. It was what he saw as his single unchangeable fear and weakness. "I- uh-"
"Clark?" Martha's voice interrupted, leaving him a little relieved. "Coming back?"
"Yeah, just a moment, Mom." Clark placed his drink on a flat surface of the roof and reached his hand down to Lex. Lex just looked at him, eyebrows reaching as far up his forehead as they went.
"Can I help you?"
Clark ignored him. "It's easy, Lex, just step on the rail up there," he nodded to the railing on the porch, "-then grab my hand and I'll pull you up."
As tempting as touching Clark was, he wasn't really feeling in the mood to hop up the front of a farmhouse. "Why don't you come on down here? I've got these." He said holding the Christmas bag up, hoping to lure Clark down there with him.
Lex was getting desperate. "I might loose my balance or something."
The somber look on Clark's face surprised him and he took a deep breath. "I would never let you fall, Lex."
Was his fear of heights that damn obvious? Had Clark really seen his weakness underneath the Luthor steel frame?
From the look in Clark's eye, I say it's a safe bet.
Lex looked away from that gaze, a little too intense for him to bear, and reluctantly moved to the steps. Clark reached down enough to grab the bag, putting it to the side, then reaching back for Lex.
He put one expensively clad foot on the wooden porch railing and tried to jiggle it with his foot. It didn't budge.
At least it's sturdy.
"It holds me, Lex." Clark's voice was soothing, but also low enough for only one other person to hear what he was saying. Lex wondered how the kid knew him so well. Everything about living in the past- the car accident still had him shaken up- and all of the understanding glances and reassuring smiles. Now this. It was like Clark could see inside of him, could tell just what he was thinking, but better than that, Clark seemed okay with what he saw. It was like Clark knew things about Lex that he wouldn't even admit to himself, but liked him anyway.
He sighed and grabbed Clark's hands with both of his, the physical contact reassuring and calming, then pushed with his legs and was hauled up to the railing.
Clark moved closer, his hands ducking under Lex's arms, his hair lightly brushing the older boy's smooth scalp. "Ready?"
He took a deep breath, nodded, and was pulled up by a surprisingly strong Clark. His feet got purchase on the roof and he walked forward as Kent stepped back, grabbing Lex's hands to help sturdy the older man. He was torn between wanting the feel of Clark to go on- the boy's thumbs on the back of his hands, the fingers clamped within Lex's tight grasp- and the pride of not needing the help.
Clark's thumbs stroked Lex's hands and he looked up into the boy's eyes, startled at the motion, but saw nothing there but a guy wanting to make sure his friend was fine. Lex reluctantly released the pressure on Clark's hands, hoping that if Clark really could see inside of him, he wouldn't see the heated yearning.
"Don't-" started Clark.
Lex looked behind him, saw the distance from the roof to the ground, saw that his feet looked mere centimeters from the edge and he lost his balance. He felt the tips of his feet raising and his heels getting heavier.
I'm falling, shit!
Before he knew what was happening Clark's hands were wrapped firmly around his waist and he was pulling Lex to him. Their bodies weren't touching, but when he glanced up at Clark he saw that the kid's face was only a few inches from his.
"It's okay. Sorry, I didn't warn you fast enough. We're on a slope, so when you look down-"
"You loose your balance."
Clark nodded and lowered his voice, fingers flexing, hands still lingering on Lex's waist. "You okay?"
Lex grinned and shook his head. "The things I do for you, Kent."
Clark blinked, clearly surprised. He smiled questioningly and raised his eyebrows at Lex before the older boy realized the words had tumbled from his consciousness and out of his mouth.
Damn words. Instead of staying put in his head where they belonged, they had escaped into the real world where Clark could pick up on their meaning. Luckily for him, Clark wasn't too quick with subtle undertones, at least when it came to Lex. Otherwise, he would have had a clue to the older boy's feelings for him, would have gotten one months ago.
Lex looked away from Clark's surprise, flushing and ashamed. "Yeah, I'm fine, but I'll be living up here from now on. It's even harder-" he cleared his throat, frowning and pushing Clark's gentle hands away. "-to get down."
It was Clark's turn to frown. "I'm sorry," he said softly.
Lex awkwardly reached out to get the bag containing the presents, keeping his balance, then slapped Clark on the arm amiably as he stood straight. "Oh, that's fine with me. Just your dad might not be too happy with a Luthor taking up residence above where he sleeps. Great view though."
Clark's smile looked suspiciously like it held 'I'll humor him' tones. He bent down to grab his cup of cocoa then placed his hand firmly on the small of Lex's back, indicating that he was to go in front.
Lex sighed, feeling the heat of the boy's hand through his winter coat. He wished that Clark could just please stop touching him like that. It was what kept Lex up nights when he had early meetings, what kept him occupied on long trips, elevator rides and basically at any spare point in time. It was also what kept him from being romantically interested in anyone that he could have even the slightest chance with. As long as Clark continued to touch him in the same manner, continued to look at him with those adorable and loyal eyes of an intelligent, loving puppy he was sure he'd never be able to be enticed by anyone else. Even knowing that the boy looked up to him in ways and treated him like family didn't console the Luthor. He didn't want to be family, an older brother to Clark Kent. He wanted to be more.
Sometimes, but especially at night, his thoughts would carry him to Clark's barn. There would be stolen kisses in the moonlight, bruising in their passion, with the rain pouring hard outside adding to their soundtrack of needy pants and lustful moans. Hands would roam and clothes would be discarded. Everything would be forgotten except the nearness of each other and the physical pleasure that they could gain from that nearness.
He wanted Clark to willingly be his, just as Clark already owned his every breath.
Kent has no clue what power he holds over me.
They reached the other side of the roof, and Lex was surprised to see Clark's father on the shingles with his arms around his wife who was sitting with her back to him, in between the man's long legs. He almost blushed at the intimacy that he was privy to, somehow more embarrassed now than when he was nine and had, at a Christmas party, walked in on his cousin and girlfriend getting it on in a coat closet.
He smiled warmly at the Kents, trying to ignore the look Jonathon was giving him. It was the same grudging look that he had seen the last time he spoke to the man in the barn about investing in the farm. A look that seemed to growl at him, asking 'Why are you here?'.
He felt the weight of the motorcycle part in his bag. Why do I even bother?
Clark sat next to his mother and patted the shingles next to his right side, looking up at Lex expectantly.
Oh, yeah, he thought, sitting next to Clark, close enough that their shoulders brushed comfortably against each other. He could see the same puppy-like look in Clark's round, green-blue eyes. That's why.
"Nice to have you up here, Lex."
He smiled. He could always look to Martha for civility. "Thank you, Mrs. Kent."
He stared out into the vast wide open and realized why the Kents were sitting on top of their house. Stared out along the entire wintry view, fields teeming with snow, he felt a tremendous peace settle over his anxious and work-ridden mind.
There were very few houses scattered about- six that he could see- but their festive lights were spectacular, color reaching to tint the white yards and fields the many different colors of the holiday. The snow was deep enough that it covered the grasses in one thick undisturbed layer, making the illusion of a pigmented ground seemless.
"It looks like the Aurora Borealis. Only of the fields." The genuinely awed comment earned him smiles from all three family members.
"It's gorgeous," murmured Jonathon, most likely too lost in the beauty as the sun meandered down past the more distant cornfields to realize he had just agreed with a Luthor.
"Want some?" Lex looked over to see Clark pointing to his cup and thought for a moment. "Is it homemade?"
Martha leaned around Clark and looked directly at Lex, all business. "Of course."
Clark laughed looking at his mother. "Mom's a little over-protective about her cocoa."
He nodded, smiling. "I'd love some."
Jonathon's voice filtered back into the conversation. "There's no more in the pot, Clark, remember?"
"Oh, I could heat up the rest, Jon."
Sweet of her, he thought. "That's fine, Mr. Kent, Mrs. Kent. Thanks anyway, Clark."
"Here." Clark held out his cup. From the looks his mother and father were giving him, Lex guessed Clark had never been much on sharing things that had the possibility of carrying cooties.
"You sure?" he asked, wary.
"Yeah." He thrust the cup at Lex. "You can have the rest. There's not much left in there though. And no whipped cream, sorry."
Whipped cream? The smug smile on Clark's face told Lex he should get the personal joke, but he couldn't place it.
He took the warm cup from Clark, his heart pattering a little faster when Clark's labor callused fingers brushed his own slender ones, and felt by the weight that the cup was still at least half full. He blew on the contents, hot enough that he could see the steam and could feel the heat from inside. He closed his eyes, and brought the mug to his mouth. As his lips met the ceramic cup they parted and his tongue secretly and intentionally licked a small spot where he hoped Clark's lips had been pressed. He took a sip and the hot, concentrated, chocolately liquid flooded his mouth then trickled down his throat. He let a groan of satisfaction and opened his eyes.
Clark quickly looked away from him and, even in the dim light, Lex could see that he was blushing. His heart sped up over the implications of his friend's cerise glow.
Was he… watching me? Why?
He nodded, tearing his eyes from the blushing farmboy to look at Martha. "Very good. I've never had any that tasted so much like actual chocolate."
She grinned at him, pleased, and leaned back into her husband. "Thank you, Lex."
His view returned to the fields, grateful that Martha had called him by his first name. He had been worried that he had lost that privilege after covertly inviting them to his house to discuss their own personal financial problems instead of the farming community's as a whole.
"What brings you over?" asked Jonathon. His voice was a little cold, but Lex could tell Martha had gotten to him about being courteous to their rich visitor.
"I wanted to play Santa Claus." He put his drink down and handed the bag to Clark. "Go ahead."
Clark grinned at him, flashing so much white that Lex briefly thought about presents becoming a norm, but Clark would be too polite and well-mannered to accept them, and Jonathon would most likely catch on to Lex's feelings about his son.
"Mom," started Clark, pulling out the first box. "This one has your name on it." He handed it over to his surprised mother and dug back into the bag. He pulled out his own present in a box almost as big as Martha's but deeper, then looked back into the bag. A smile formed as he realized the last package was for his father and he turned to Lex, inching close enough to cost Lex his normal heart rate. He watched the warm breath plume flow from Clark's pink lips. "What'd you get him?" he whispered.
Lex swallowed thickly. "Something useful, I hope."
Clark handed Lex his own present, still untouched and currently forgotten, as he was more interested in just what Lex had purchased his father. Lex would have laughed at how eager Clark was for Jonathon to like his friend with the unsightly Luthor surname if it didn't so closely mirror his own desperation.
...To be continued [will be finished before X-Mas, I PROMISE!!]