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TITLE: What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? [Chapter Six]
AUTHOR: Nymph Du Pave
FANDOM: Smallville
PAIRING: Lex Luther/Clark Kent.

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?

Chapter Six


He was just a few feet from the barn and couldn't face the humility of turning around and running, walking, crawling to his car, so he ducked into the barn without even thinking of the consequences.

Oh, had he ever done it now. Made a complete ass of himself. He felt like collapsing to his knees right there on the dirt floor, but instead he forced himself numbly up the steps and back to where he had stood mere minutes before. He was suddenly back in the coat closet, praying for someone to come be his friend. That was all he had really wanted then, and was still now. He had one in Clark, but he'd just made a complete fool of himself in front of the boy and his family, ruining what should have been a wonderful moment for them.

He saw the first few flakes of snow falling from the sky above. "God, damn me," he muttered softly. He'd ruined the happy ending he'd earlier so desired for the person he cherished and his loved ones.

Lex heard the loud footfalls coming up the stairs, and guessed that he was supposed to this time. The gait was slower than necessary, and heavier than usual, giving him enough time to compose himself.

The footsteps stopped and there was an uncomfortable but manageable silence.

I have to explain.

"I'm so sorry," he said, watching as the snow flakes started to fall more rapidly.


"No, Clark." It came out a little more harshly then he intended, but he couldn't help it. "You invited me to a personal celebration and I ended up ruining the entire thing, including the perfect ending with the snow coming down in flurries while you all look up to the heavens in splendid and sumptuous awe."

"You watch too many movies, Lex."

"I don't have time for movies."

There was another moment of silence, thicker than the first and he realized that maybe Clark, like his father in his fantasies of being rescued from his personal shelters, didn't know what to say. Then the familiar voice came from closer behind, soft and pliant to Lex's emotions, whatever they may have been. "You didn't ruin anything tonight, Lex. I swear."

Though Lex still hated himself for his sudden inability to control his emotions, he believed that Clark, his own personal boy-scout savior, was telling the truth. He sighed, at least a tiny bit relieved that Clark didn't think him moronic.

"Do you wanna talk about-"

"No." It was true. He didn't want to talk about why he ran. He didn't even want to think about it.

They stood there in companionable silence for about a minute before Clark spoke again. "I never noticed it, well, until earlier." He sounded closer, quieter, more contemplative. "You did the same thing the last few times you were up here, but it just never registered."

He lowered his chin and looked at the farming equipment to his left, seeing Clark in his peripheral vision. "Did what?"

"Stood so far from the edge."

He nodded, and looked back outside, still not turning towards his company. "Now you know why."

He heard the soft padding of Clark's work-boots behind him and did not move. Only when he felt hands around his waist did he start and instinctively move backwards and away from the drop, only succeeding in pushing his rear side up against Clark's front. It was something he'd wanted of course, but under entirely different circumstances.

"Do you trust me?" The whisper was literally breathed into his ear, the warmth forcing out a shiver.

"Dumb question, Kent."

The hands moved away for a moment, pulling Lex's coat back and moving to grab his waist again, the pinky and ring fingers of each hand dipping slightly under the waistband of Lex's slacks for a better grip. He could feel the heat radiating from Clark's fingers and hands through his silk button-down. "Do you want to step to the edge?"

Not really.

"Even dumber question."

"So you want to be afraid." This time it was not a whispered question, but a bluntly stated fact.

"No," he hissed. "But stepping onto the edge isn't going to suddenly make me wanna climb Everest."

"Have you ever tried?" The words were once again patient whispers.

There are a lot of other things I haven't tried that I'd much rather take a shot at.

"To climb Everest?" he asked, hoping to break the ambience that had settled around them.

"Lex." Still patient, caring. Insistant.

"No," he said, and found it amazing how his voice chose that one word, that single syllable to crack on.

"Then why not try now?" He felt Clark's lips sweep against the top of his ear, and his eyes drooped, suddenly heavy.

Oh, God. Does he not know how utterly sensual he is? I just wish he'd-

He cut off his thoughts there and closed his eyes completely. "Okay. Fine." He shuffled forward a foot, reluctantly parting with the erotic yet comfortable pressure of Clark on his back, and leaving six inches yet to traverse to the edge.

He breathed in and felt relief as Clark closed the distance, coming to stand right behind him again, almost as close. Lex expected Clark to say something like 'almost there' or 'just a little more' but he didn't, maintaining an understanding silence that said more as far as encouragement than any words could have.

Any words except 'I love you'.

"Idiot," he muttered.

"Sorry?" came the confused reply.

He shook his head. "Just a pet name for myself lately."

He lifted his head to the stars and opened his eyes, refusing to look below him. He grabbed for the closest side of the loft opening to his right, and reached back to grab Clark's forearm with his left.

The grip on his waist tightened. "I've got you, Lex."

"I know." He closed his eyes again and used the toe of his shoe to feel for the edge. When his toe went over he panicked, heart sputtering and breath becoming shallow.


How does he know? The simple word, a deep voice saying his name and embedded within was affection. Fondness. Care.

No more encouragement was necessary, he had everything he needed. He planted his extended foot firmly where it was, leaving his toe sticking out an inch and dragged his other foot sluggishly to stop right next to it.

"There." He didn't even hear himself say the word. It was just a movement of his lips.

The next instant he felt Clark's cheek press itself against his. He breathed in sharply and held that breath, not really caring but still hoping the boy would think that maybe it just a reaction of his fear of falling.

"Open your eyes, Lex."



Uh, uh.

Clark's voice dropped and octave and held a sultry tint to it. "For me?"

Damn you.

Lex let out the breath, shaking as he did so, then tilted his head back against Clark's shoulder. The contact was solace to him, and he opened his eyes, but did not move to look down.

They must have stood there for a full minute like that, not moving, Lex leaning back into the boy, taking comfort in mutual respiration. Lex had focused on Clark's breathing, matching it to calm himself, but noticed that Clark's was still pretty irregular for someone who wasn't afraid of heights.

Heart's beating pretty fast against my back, too.

"Lex?" Not impatient. Just curious.

He said nothing and instead swallowed his fear as best he could.

Here we go.

He looked down.

"God," he gasped as the ground swayed fifty, sixty, seventy feet below him and falling. His world, the barn, the ground and everything surrounding him, spun sickly and his head grew heavy and light at the same time. He was dizzy and his heart crammed into his throat beating cruelly in his stomach, chest and out through his back, all at once. There was a ringing in his ears, the back of his mouth tasted sour and his legs were growing weak. He couldn't feel Clark's hands on him, couldn't feel them even though the boy, his only friend in the world, had once told him that he'd never let him fall.

He couldn't breathe.

I'm hyperventilating.

Suddenly, he was backing away from the edge, but- but he wasn't moving himself. His legs were stiff, wooden, unbendable. So why was he moving?

An instant later, he realized that the hands around his waist were still there and, finally finding some use to put themselves to, had pulled him away from the open door. Clark had not let go of him.

Just like he said.

The same hands were firmly clutching him, moving him to the right, turning him around and pressing him to the wall feet from the opening. He shut his eyes and gasped, leaning there for support, thankful when the hands relocated to under his arms, gripping his upper ribs for support.

"Easily," he panted. "the second scariest- thing I've ever- been through." He paused, knowing Clark could guess the first. "Top two involve you," he smiled weakly and opened his eyes. Clark's concern was evident and powerful enough to reinstate his previous desire for the boy, who was now so very close. The desire had been forgotten, pushed aside by a fear just as intense, but now it became as much a factor to his increased heart rate as the adrenaline rush.

After he had his breathing under control, he spoke. "Now, I'm still afraid of heights, Kent. We lost. So what the hell could make fear like that worth the experience?"

He never saw Clark move. One second there was a foot and a half's worth of distance between the two, the next he was centimeters away from Lex's face looking into the gray-blues with his deep teals. He licked his own lips and Lex panted at the sight.

"It takes courage to do something that you're afraid to do. I'm not afraid of much-"

"No kidding," Lex murmured.

"But I've been afraid of this for far too long, Lex. You just gave me the courage to change."

Lex felt the soft, pliant lips, lips that he'd craved so desperately, press with sweeping urgency to his own. He trembled, groaning deep in his throat, unable and completely unwilling to hold back. Clark wanted him.

He parted his lips instantaneously, not waiting for permission to be asked first. He needed to taste Clark, to have Clark inside of his mouth tasting him back. All he wanted, wanted him too and he wasn't going to waste a single imperative shimmer of what he was being given.

Clark parted his own lips and timidly tasted the young Luthor, running his tongue along Lex's lips, then dipping into his mouth. Lex whimpered in pleasure as he felt Clark shyly licking the roof of his mouth, Clark's hands still holding him tight, and he reached up to infuse his hand deep into Clark's raven-imbued locks, finding them softer and more feathery than he had ever thought possible. He grabbed hold of Clark's broad shoulders, pulling himself up on his toes so that he was hovering slightly above Clark, and delved into the warm heat below him, plunging and thrusting his tongue with such passion that he was beginning to grow weak and lightheaded, but he didn't want to stop. He wanted to saturate himself, wanted to emboss the taste and feel of Clark into him permanently, and the stars blasting before his eyes weren't going to keep him from achieving that.

Both of Clark's hands moved up and down, caressing his back from the inside of his coat, and only elevating the passion that Lex felt was going to crush him. He felt as well as heard Clark's moan as he forced his increased desire and lust out through the kiss, making the love and devotion he felt deep within his core more transparent and glaring than he could have ever hoped or imagined.

Need to breath, Lex. You can kiss him after you take a breath. You don't want to die now, right when you've got what you want most.

Where else would he rather die though, than in the arms of his savior, his best friend, and his one true love?

He dropped to his heals and leaned back against the wall, but Clark's lips stayed fiercely attached, his tongue still seeking and stroking. Lex pushed splayed hands against Clark's broad shoulders, trying to pry away. Clark growled in protest, and Lex's skin tingled in response, but as his hands and pressure stayed, Clark backed off.

He really wants this.

Lex opened his eyes and saw that Clark's were dusky and heated, focused still on Lex's mouth. He desperately needed to calm down, but the lust-filled look Clark was giving him was only making his breathing more ragged and hard to control.

"Need to- breathe."

Clark nodded. "Do that." He then attacked Lex's throat with his mouth. Lex felt his groin harden as Clark's tongue glided against the skin of his neck. Hands slid deliberately down his back, around to the front, up his abdomen and then over his chest to undo the first three buttons of Lex's shirt, gaining greater access to the pale skin underneath. There was a brief moment when Lex's breath hitched at the feel of a tongue on hairless upper chest, warm and wet and intimate, then Clark stopped and pulled back, brow furrowed in concentration.

Lex grabbed the boy's sweater and tugged hard, trying to draw him back to pick up where he left off with the kisses, with his tongue, but instead Clark's hand dipped into Lex's open shirt. He held his breath in sweet, unsure anticipation of just what Clark intended to do, but oh, so fine with it. Then Clark's hand came back out and he sighed in disappointment, his skin feeling cheated.


Clark's hand had come out holding the medallion.


"You're wearing it." Clark looked up at Lex with the puppy eyes and for the first time Lex could take them in without regret, without the sorrow that they would never see him like he saw Clark: as a lover.

"Of course."

Clark moved in closer, this time much slower and taking that extra time to press his whole body to Lex's. Foot to foot, leg to leg. Lex gasped as he felt Clark's stiffened appendage press against his own, and Clark leaned forward to kiss him again.

Where the first kiss had been a fast-paced blur of pent up sexual needs from both boys, this one was a sweet, slow-motion, lucid moment. Their first kiss held an overwhelming amount of lust and passion, but their second was so full of love and tender compassion that Lex, inexperienced with either, felt his knees give out under him.

Clark caught his fall, again not breaking the kiss, and lowered them both to their knees on the sawdust covered floor. One arm snaked around Lex's waist and the other went to cup the smooth scalp, pulling him close. Lex's hands tightened on the sweater, of which he had not let go, and he just let everything about Clark permeate his senses.

When they finally pulled back, Lex noticed that Clark didn't seem to want to break the contact, still holding his waist and head.

He searched the boy's eyes and found that he just wanted to come out and say it, damn the consequences. He moved his hand to caress the face, the face that he'd longed to feel beneath his fingertips, that he'd longed to be able to stroke as lovingly as he could, as he did, now. "I- I love you. So much so that I can feel my heart just wanting to give up, Clark. You're too much for it."

Clark's eyes shut tightly and he shoved his face brutally against Lex's neck, his arms trying to seal Lex's body to his in an impenetrable hold, as if he were suddenly jealous, envious of the space in between them, stingy and possesive of Lex and their moment together. "I love you, too," he whispered and Lex could feel him straining furtively to get the words out in the right order.

He really means it.

Lex felt on fire, stronger, more buoyant and like his heart could burst through his chest at any second. It took him a moment to recognize this inebriated alertness as bliss, as love requited, as the world suddenly making complete sense, if only for the time he could spend in Clark's presence, in his arms. He was no longer afraid of when he had to return to the mansion, because he knew his real home was with Clark and anytime that he was away was just an inconvience. Clark would always be there, protecting him from himself and his own fears, making him happy, and he would be there to make Clark happy. He would give everything in his Luthor heart, his pale body, his cunning mind and restored soul to make Clark the happiest person on Earth.

He grabbed Clark's head with one hand and the boy's shoulder with his other arm, hugging him back as hard as he could. This was when his life could start again. The interlude that began when his mother and father had left him- both in painfully diverse methods- ended with Clark. With a love so abudant and replete with selflessness that nothing would ever hurt either of them again.


He smiled against the boy's hair. "Yeah?"

"What are you doing New Year's Eve?"

He laughed. "Whatever you want me to be doing."

"Be with me," Clark murmured.

He laughed again, truly intoxicated with the boy in his arms. Someone had finally found him and taken him out of that damned closet, but it wasn't just anyone. It was his friend, his companion, and the only one he had ever wanted like this. The only one that could make him feel so complete, so happy and... normal. His first and only true lover.

He had Clark, and Clark knew just what to say.


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