Disclaimer: I don't own any of this.
Glycerine is © Bush and Kirtland Records. Every Breath You Take is © The Police and Universal UK. More Than Words is © Extreme and A&M. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.
Duet
The marquee message was coy and cutesy – "Get out of the shower and into the Talon!" – but it did the trick. Saturdays were karaoke night and the place was always full.
Lex sat a little apart, Clark's seat next to him the only thing really connecting him to the table crowded with Chloe and Pete and others. He felt, as he often did, a little out of place amongst the mostly-teenaged crowd; but Clark really seemed to enjoy karaoke night and Lex simply couldn't say no to any invitation that was accompanied by that smile.
The talent was wide-ranging: a few great performers and a few screeching wrecks, but mostly just enthusiastic kids showing off for one another in an innocent, wholesome sort of way. Overall Lex had to admit the evening had been pretty fun, though of course that was largely due to the conversation and laugher he'd shared with the friend beside him. Clark's chair was empty now, though; it was getting close to closing time and he'd insisted on jumping up for one last song.
It never ceased to surprise Lex how someplace as prosaic as the Talon could transform itself into a stage for wonder. It could have something to do with the way the high ceilings and Doric columns seemed to close in when the lights were low; the cavernous room grew intimate in the halo of the spotlight Lana had set up for karaoke night. Its glow diffused slowly through the coffeehouse, dwindling finally to luscious shadows that circled the singing, laughing crowd like an embrace. And over all, the music blaring, so visceral and affective … all the sensory elements of the night brought them close together and united them in the nearest thing to love that passing strangers could share.
Clark stood in that spotlight now, trying desperately not to slaughter his chosen song. The audience forgave his pitch and swayed along in time to the pulsing music.
I'm never alone
I'm alone all the time
Are you at one
Or do you lie
Lex nursed his coffee and, forcing himself to look anywhere but the stage, let his eyes wander over the crowd. Chloe in particular seemed to be experiencing Clark's performance with all her senses, her cup forgotten in her disinterested hands. Lex took in her rapt pose before shifting his glance some distance away to Lana, who was wiping down the counter and apparently totally oblivious to Clark's song. It was a real pity, since he'd probably chosen it just for her.
Don't let the days go by
Could've been easier on you
I couldn't change though I wanted to
Lex's gaze flicked past Chloe again … it was a pity for her as well. He understood though; Clark's unswerving devotion to Lana wore Lex down just as low. But there the similarity ended, and Lex allowed himself a flare of envy. At least Chloe could wear her disappointment on her sleeve – no one would question her right to sit at the foot of the Talon's stage, looking up at Clark with eyes luminous with wishing and sadness.
Not that Lex himself would ever do such a thing ... too mawkish. But Chloe did look rather pretty with her upturned, melancholy face. He wondered if the spotlight would ever be so kind to him.
I needed you more
When we wanted us less
Could not kiss
Just regress
There was something almost illicit about watching Clark like this, standing in front of a crowd singing to Lana words he wouldn't have the courage to say even when they were alone together. On some level it felt terrible, too, to see the emotion in Clark's face as he sang and know it was someone else's skin that inspired him. But if he forced those thoughts from his mind, Lex found he could tune in to the timbre of Clark's voice and pretend, for the space of two and a half minutes at least, that Clark was singing to him. In the voyeuristic tone of the entire evening, it didn't seem too wrong to do that.
The song was over soon enough, though, and Clark accepted the crowd's cheers with his familiar goofy grin. Lex downed the last of his coffee and cleared his throat; he glanced over one more time and noticed Chloe also organizing her expression as Clark returned to the table.
"All right everyone," Lana announced, walking over with sparkling eyes and the register till balanced on one hip. "Closing time … you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."
Chairs scraped against the floor as the crowd began to slip on jackets and head out into the cool evening. Lana moved among them, exchanging goodbye smiles with regulars and scanning the tables for leftover dishes. "Clark, Lex," she called out as she passed, "would you guys mind breaking down for me? I'm on my own tonight so I still have to finish in the kitchen, and then I have to count out the drawer."
"Sure, Lana," Clark said brightly, but she breezed by and didn't seem to notice his thousand-watt smile.
"Need a hand?" Chloe asked in her always-eager way.
"That's okay," Clark answered, looking over her shoulder towards the kitchen. Chloe's mouth turned in at the corner but she didn't say anything more; Lex heard Pete rumble an offer of a ride and they drifted off together.
Soon enough the last of the stragglers were gone and Lex and Clark found themselves alone. Wordlessly, they began pushing tables and chairs back to their usual arrangement. Clark moved between the booths, collecting scattered songlists and tucking them back into the binder that rested on top of the karaoke machine. Lex picked a stray one up off the floor and moved towards him, feeling the weight of Lana's absence pressing down on the silence between them.
Clark must have realized he was brooding; he took a breath and smiled in Lex's direction in an attempt to change his mood. "That was fun, huh?"
"It was entertaining," Lex agreed. "I never had Chloe pegged for a Gloria Gaynor fan."
This time the smile Clark cracked was genuine. "I think that was some kind of joke between her and Pete. He was laughing his ass off the entire time."
"Well, she certainly threw herself into it." He decided not to ask Clark if he realized how much of Chloe's performance of I Will Survive had been for his benefit.
"You never got up there," Clark commented, gesturing towards the songlist still in Lex's hand.
"No," Lex replied, flipping its pages idly. "I wasn't really in the mood to humiliate myself tonight."
"Come on, Lex. You're pretty musical ... I'm sure you wouldn't humiliate yourself."
"Playing and singing are two very different things."
"Maybe. But you don't have to be any good to enjoy yourself." He grinned and dipped his chin self-depreciatingly. "Look at me."
Lex chuckled. "You aren't terrible," he said kindly.
"It's ok," Clark replied, his expression clouding over as his eyes darted towards the kitchen again.
"You never really get heard anyway," Lex offered softly.
Clark's gaze snapped back to Lex's face, anxious at first but then gentling at Lex's knowing expression. "Something like that," he replied with an air of confession.
Lex nodded and set his songlist on top of the others. "That's the thing about karaoke that really gets me," he said thoughtfully. "People are so willing to get up and sing about things they would never actually say to one another. It's like the music makes it safer somehow … gives you plausible deniability."
Clark's face was sheepish. "Was I that obvious?"
"It wasn't just you," Lex said, his lips thinning. "What about Pete and his rendition of Jessie's Girl?"
"What do you mean?"
"Come on, Clark." Lex looked at him expectantly.
"No, really – what?"
Lex lifted one eyebrow. "You don't think that was meant for Chloe?"
Clark looked totally baffled. "Pete? Chloe?"
Lex just smirked and started turning up the chairs. "Okay, Clark. Maybe Pete will come right out and tell you someday."
Clark didn't answer right away; he seemed to be struggling with his thoughts. Then he said, "Well, I guess I can understand it. Sometimes it's hard to just say what you're feeling … a song can capture that meaning for you."
"Right," Lex retorted, knowing he sounded more cynical than he cared to but somehow unable to prevent himself. "And you can play it off as just an act if it doesn't have the desired affect."
"Lex." Clark stood there in the still-focused spotlight; he had the microphone in his hand. "You mean you've never felt anything you were scared to speak out loud?"
A shiver ran through Lex's veins to hear Clark call his name like that. "Of course I have."
A beat of silence, then Clark held the mic out towards him. "So sing it."
Lex turned and looked at him with incredulity. "You have to be kidding."
"I'm not," Clark persisted, stepping off the stage, his hand still extended. "Everyone's gone anyway, who's to hear?"
Lex lifted both eyebrows this time. "Not everyone."
"Well," Clark replied with an offhand smile, "I've already embarrassed myself in front of you tonight. So the way I see it, you owe me."
They stared each other down for a moment; then Lex reached out and took the mic without any further protest. Calmly, as if his fingers weren't trembling, he leafed through the songlist, found the one that had been running through his head all night, and punched the numbers into the machine.
Every breath you take
Every move you make
Every vow you break
Every step you take
I'll be watching you
Gazing out over the empty room, Lex found the view quite surreal. Dust motes floated in the beam of the spotlight, and beyond it the tables and chairs were skeletal in the dimness. Colors were muted and shadows deeper as the light boring into Lex's eyes drowned out most other details. He could hardly even make out Clark, who'd pulled a chair up to the foot of the stage and looked up at him with strict attention. But even blinded as he was, Lex still sought out and found Clark's face. It didn't surprise him at all that even pale and shadowy as they appeared now, he still found those features achingly beautiful.
Every single day
Every word you say
Every game you play
Every night you stay
I'll be watching you
He realized it was a terrible song choice. It was too banal, too obvious – too frank about its own obsessiveness. It might even give too much away. Somehow he didn't care. Clark had challenged him, and Lex was never one to balk from a challenge.
And besides, he could always play it off as an act later – couldn't he?
Oh can't you see
You belong to me
How my poor heart aches
With every step you take
Lex did have to admit that having the microphone in your hand changed everything. The music, the sound of your own disembodied voice over the amplifier, and the words written by someone else made it surprisingly easy to forget oneself. The lyrics scrolled by on the blue screen, pulling Lex further away from reality with every syllable; he felt simultaneously vulnerable and brave.
He was singing now about his longing and his certainty that it would never end. He sang about how Clark's eyes would drift from his whenever Lana walked into a room. He sang about every time he'd played second to her, of how he'd watched her eat Clark's heart over and over again, and about his own silent anger.
I dream at night I can only see your face
I look around but it's you I can't replace
I feel so cold and I long for your embrace
But it would always be this way, and he would have to learn to live with it: this relentless mingled love and misery.
Lex knew that he could do it, if it was the price of keeping Clark beside him. He could live with it. And yet he hated it with equal force.
I'll be watching you
The music was fading away now, and Lex did feel a certain degree of catharsis. Maybe singing was good therapy after all. It certainly seemed healthier than smashing windshields or telling lies.
As the song circled to a close, he lowered the microphone and searched again for Clark outside the beam of the spotlight. He found him, still sitting so casually at the foot of the stage, slung backwards in his chair with his arms folded over the back. But as their gazes locked, Lex caught his breath sharply; there was something very different in Clark's eyes now. They had lost their usual softness, and his expression had grown piercing and unreadable.
It was disconcerting to say the least. But Clark had wanted to hear him sing.
The machine lapsed into silence, then began to play the next track; Clark was up out of his seat in a moment and dialed the volume way down. He turned back to Lex, who hadn't yet surrendered the stage. In the glare of the spotlight Clark's height and breadth seemed magnified – or else he was just standing a little closer than usual.
"You have a great voice," he said, his voice thrumming with the undertone of some emotion Lex could not quite interpret.
"I can carry a tune," Lex replied neutrally.
"You're better than that and you know it," Clark retorted, one corner of his mouth curling up. "Everyone does that song … you made it feel like something, though."
Lex lifted his chin, not able to help warming a little under Clark's praise. "Like what?"
"I'm not sure I can find the words for it," Clark said, his voice soft and yet charged somehow. "Intense … raw … personal." He seemed to falter, and looked down to steady himself. "You should get up and sing next week, Lex. I think everyone would be really impressed."
Lex let a beat of silence pass, then confessed, "I don't really care about impressing everyone."
A shadow flickered across Clark's face; in any other light Lex would have called it a smile, but everything was so deceptive now and he couldn't be sure. Then Clark leaned over the machine again; Lex watched in curiosity as he turned the volume back up. "I like this song too," he said, and began to sing along.
How easy it would be to show me how you feel
More than words is all you have to do to make it real
Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me
'Cause I'd already know
Lex realized too late that he was staring. Clark only smiled and met his eyes again, this time with apparent ease.
"I wish you'd told me sooner," he said.
His pulse throbbed strangely and his mouth went dry, but Lex willed himself to remain outwardly still. "Told you … what?"
The music answered.
That your love for me is real
Clark reached out, ostensibly for the mic that was still clenched in Lex's anxious fingers. But when they met, he didn't pull his hand away again. "I can be pretty dense. I'm sorry about that."
Lex blinked up at him. "You? Dense?"
"Don't tease me now," Clark admonished gently, moving a step closer. "It's not fair."
"And why is that?"
"Because you've already got my head spinning," he answered, inching closer still and letting his fingers slide up Lex's wrist. "You can't expect me to keep up with your rapier wit too."
The space between them was now almost insignificant, and Lex's vision was full of Clark's face. He wondered for a blissful second if he could be dreaming; but then Clark licked his lips nervously and Lex forgot to try pinching himself.
"Guys?"
Panic knifed through Lex's mind and they both sprang back a step, wheeling towards the sound of Lana's voice. She leaned around the kitchen door, her willowy form curving like a question mark as she took in the scene before her. Backlit as she was, Lex could still tell that her expression was cross.
"Are you still playing around with the music? Come on, you can show off again next Saturday."
"Sorry, boss," Clark grinned. "We'll be done in a minute."
She shot him a quizzical look and then disappeared back into the kitchen. Lex wondered if it was his imagination, or if the clanking of dishes sounded a little bit petulant.
"Hey," Clark prodded, and Lex turned back to him. He'd moved quickly to coil up the tangled microphone cord and was now deftly unplugging all the sound equipment. Only then did Lex realize the music had stopped; but Clark was still looking at him with tenderness. "Just give me a hand with the lights and then we can get out of here."
"Where are we going?" Lex asked.
"Somewhere we can talk."
"And what," Lex ventured very cautiously, "would you like to talk about?"
Clark looked once more towards the kitchen, then kissed him – quickly, but full on the mouth. Then, just as swiftly, he was pushing the karaoke machine back towards the storeroom. He grinned at Lex over his shoulder as he slipped out of sight. "We can start there."
Lex lingered for a moment in his awe, letting his fingers drift to his lips. Then, slowly, he wandered towards the spotlight and switched it off. He hummed softly as he finished putting up the chairs; that last song was stuck in his head, but as much as he'd never cared for Hair Metal, he found he didn't mind.