December 24, 2004
The best Christmas Eve ever...Clark knew that's how he would always remember this day.
Warm and pleasantly drowsy, he snuggled deeper under the blankets and pressed a soft kiss to Lex's smooth scalp where it nestled under his chin. Sleeping soundly, his breathing deep and even and moist against Clark's chest, Lex never stirred and Clark smiled, knowing that he was the only person in the world that Lex could relax so completely with.
Clark looked through half-closed lids at the huge Christmas tree blinking cheerfully in the corner of Lex's bedroom. Clark had gotten a part-time job for the holiday season at Mr. Anderson's Christmas tree farm, and at the close of business today, Mr. Anderson had insisted Clark choose any tree he wanted. The old fellow had apologized to Clark for not being able to give him a cash bonus, but Clark understood...he was the child of farmers after all. He knew that money was tight for Bill and Minnie Anderson, and the gift of one of their large, perfect trees was really very generous.
Besides, the tree was an unexpected and welcome surprise. Clark didn't have a lot of money to spend on gifts; all he had gotten Lex for Christmas was a CD he had been wanting, but he wanted to give him something more...something special. So as soon as he had gotten off work, he had gone to Wal-Mart and purchased some inexpensive white lights and ornaments - already marked half off - with some of the money he had earned working for Mr. Anderson, and was at Lex's doorstep a half hour later, tree and decorations in hand.
The tree, he explained to Lex, was for the bedroom, where he would give Lex the rest of his Christmas present; long, slow love-making under the tree, and best of all...he had permission from his parents to spend the entire night with Lex.
When Clark and Lex had made the transition from "just friends" to lovers, they had, at Lex's insistence, been completely up front with Clark's parents. Lex had said he worked too long and hard to earn Jonathan Kent's respect to risk losing it by entering into a sexual relationship with Clark without telling Jon and Martha first.
Lex had done the right thing - Jonathan had been upset, furious really, but he had reluctantly admitted that he respected Lex for his honesty and even said that he knew it had taken a lot of courage for Lex to come to them first. That had been just a little over a year ago, and in that time, Jon's grudging respect had grown into a resigned acceptance of the relationship. Still, he had balked when Clark, pointing out that he was now 18 years old, had asked to stay at Lex's on Christmas Eve.
Jon had tried the old 'you-may-be-eighteen-but-while-you-live-under-my-roof-you'll-do-as-I-say' maneuver, but he had been quickly shushed by Martha, who had dragged him into the next room, telling Clark that they would discuss it and let him know what they decided.
Feeling a little guilty for eavesdropping, but doing it anyway, Clark had smiled when he had heard his mother say that he should be allowed to spend Christmas Eve with the person he loved, especially since, if he didn't, Lex would be alone during the holidays. Of course, that approach hadn't worked at all on his father, so she had closed the deal by saying, "You must not want Clark 'under your roof' anymore, Jon, because if you issue that ultimatum, he'll leave...I'm sure Lex would be happy to give him a home at the mansion."
Barely a minute later, Jon and Martha had come out to give their permission, Martha with a gentle smile and a kiss on Clark's cheek, Jon with a look of despair and a little horror on his face, that he tried valiantly to hide, a manly slap on Clark's back, and a request for Clark's promise to be careful. Martha's only stipulation was that Clark and Lex be at the house the next morning at 7:30 sharp for their traditional Kent-family Christmas breakfast.
Clark's face flushed at the memory of the look on his father's face. He knew that his parents understood that he and Lex were having sex, but his father had adopted the attitude that if he didn't think about it, if they didn't talk about it, it wasn't happening. But the thought of Clark staying at the mansion all night made it hard for Jon to maintain his happy little state of denial.
Nevertheless, permission had been granted, and now Clark smiled again, remembering the look of surprise and genuine pleasure that had lit up Lex's face when Clark told him he could stay the night.
And it had been a perfect evening. Together, they had decorated the tree in the bedroom, Lex complaining loudly, but good-naturedly, about the Christmas music Clark insisted on playing.
Lex had given the household staff, including the cook, the night off, but he and Clark had not gone hungry - Martha had sent lasagna and a box full of homemade cookies, and other assorted Christmas sweets.
When the tree was finished, they had settled into the oversized armchair in front of the fireplace in Lex's bedroom, their kissing and nuzzling progressing into heavy petting, before they had rolled onto the floor under the tree and had made love with a passion and energy fueled by the knowledge that, for the first time, they had all night together. Afterwards, when their sweaty bodies had begun to cool, they had crawled up into bed, burrowing together under flannel sheets and blankets.
Lex had immediately rolled onto his side facing Clark, snuggling his face into his lover's chest and drifting off to sleep with a quickness that surprised Clark. Though tired and drowsy, Clark found himself strangely unable to sleep. He supposed it was just the novelty of it all - spending the entire night in a bed not his own, in a new situation - that was making his weary brain buzz with a restless excitement.
His left arm was wrapped loosely around Lex's waist, and he gently pulled him a little closer, lightly stroking the small of his back and enjoying the warmth and closeness of Lex's lean body pressed against his own. Clark tilted his head back to look down at his sleeping lover's face for a moment. Lex's features were smooth and relaxed in sleep, making him seem so young, so vulnerable, and stirring in Clark that intense desire to protect.
Clark was a little awestruck, as he often was, that this man...this beautiful, perfect man...was his. It still amazed him that someone like Lex, a wealthy, intelligent, and incredibly sexy businessman, could be in love with someone like himself...a gawky, unsophisticated, and penniless high school student.
As he stared at Lex with pure adoration, he became aware of a soft noise under the blankets...a series of little airy, popping sounds. Clark's eyes widened a little and he grew still, puzzled. His logical mind knew what the sound was, but his love-hazed brain had trouble accepting it.
Alexander Joseph Luthor, his sophisticated, charming, and always perfectly, immaculately proper lover was...farting?
Clark was suddenly overcome, in a rush, with the urge to laugh. Not wanting to wake Lex, he suppressed it, but the urge just grew stronger until his body was trembling with the effort of holding back. Get a grip Kent, he coached himself internally. It's not that funny. Pete does it all the time and THAT hasn't been funny since you were about ten years old. Dad does it all through "60 Minutes" every time Mom makes Sunday-night chili. Again...not funny.
Clark's chest was aching now from suppressing his laughter, and he realized that he hadn't breathed in a while. Thinking to shake it off, he took a nice, deep breath, reciting to himself, not funny, not funny. But when the oxygen hit his lungs, it seemed to fuel his amusement, giving it an even bigger boost, and he had to clap a hand over his mouth to stop the imminent eruption of laughter.
The movement roused Lex a little and he moaned softly, snuggling closer and nuzzling Clark's chest, murmuring sleepily, "Mmmmm...Clark, you smell so good."
Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, Clark silently chanted, his body now quivering uncontrollably. He could feel the laughter bubbling up his throat, and he thought it was lucky that Lex had fallen immediately back to sleep...one more word, one look, and Clark knew he would lose it.
And then he heard it. Another airy, melodious little sound, this time like a note played by the world's tiniest trumpet.
And Clark lost it. "Bwaaaahaaaaaahaaaaa..." His laughter burst out loud and sudden and he rolled over on his back, holding his stomach.
"Wha...?" Lex sat bolt upright, eyes sleepy but widening with fright. "Clark...what's wrong?" Then, when he determined that the loud noise coming from Clark was laughter, he said, "Jesus Christ, Clark. What's the matter with you?"
Once Clark got started, he couldn't stop, and it was a while before he regained enough control to gasp out, "I'm sorry, Lex...I'm sorry. It's not funny, really."
"Then what the hell are you laughing about?" Lex, still sleepy and a little grumpy, was starting to get irate.
"I'm sorry," Clark repeated, before managing to choke out, "It's just...you...you...you farted!" And the uncontrollable chortling started again.
"Oh, I don't think so," Lex began, and Clark's laughter grew twice as loud. "Seriously Clark, I don't know what you thought you heard, but I assure you...I did not fart."
"Bwaaaahaaaaahaaaaaa....," Clark began again, loudly. Lex's denial just made it funnier.
Truly pissed now, Lex rolled over, fluffed his pillow, then sank down into it, saying aloofly, "I'm going to sleep, Clark. Try to keep it down."
Clark bit his lip...hard...to stifle his laughter, but his chest was already aching again and he couldn't stop himself from saying breathlessly, "Oh god. I should have gotten you a dog for Christmas."
Lex lifted his head from the pillow for a moment to ask, "A dog?"
"Yeah...so you would have someone to blame it on when you fart, Lex." And Clark was off again, laughing deliriously.
"Good night, Clark," Lex said firmly, still a little miffed.
Gaining a measure of control, Clark leaned over to kiss Lex's head. "Good night, Lex."
Clark snuggled back down under the blankets, settling in for a good night's sleep, but he hadn't been this tickled about something since elementary school, and in less than a minute, his body was trembling again with suppressed laughter.
Lex lay quietly, feeling the bed shake for a few minutes, before reaching a decision.
A loud blast came from under the blankets. Where before there was the gentle tune of a miniature trumpet, now there was the ear-splitting honk of an 18-wheeler.
"Haaaaaahhaaaaahahaaa...." And Clark, clutching his sides and laughing until tears streamed down his face, rolled over until he fell out of the bed and landed on the floor with a loud thud.
Lex leaned over the side of the bed. "There you go. Go ahead...laugh all you want. Get it out of your system, OK?" He watched Clark as he writhed on the floor laughing and wiping the wetness from his face, until Lex felt the corners of his own mouth beginning to turn up. He began to chuckle along with Clark, and when Clark's chortling finally began to abate, he stuck his hand over the side of the bed. "Come on, babe. If we're going to your parent's for 7:30 in the morning, you've got to let me sleep."
Finally in control, Clark reached up to clasp the offered hand, letting Lex help him to his feet. He crawled back into bed, snuggling in behind Lex and wrapping one long arm around Lex's middle to haul him in close. Clark felt a warm contentment spreading in his chest, realizing that he and Lex had reached an entirely new level of intimacy this night. He had never felt closer to anyone in his life.
"Thank you, Lex," he murmured, still snickering, before pressing a warm, wet kiss to the knob on the back of Lex's head that Clark loved so much. "That was the best Christmas present ever."
Lex wriggled backwards, pressing a little more tightly against Clark. "Good God, Clark. If I had known that my passing gas would make you so happy, I wouldn't have needed to get you that leather jacket for Christmas," he said, smiling.
"Mmmm....but I'm gonna look so cool in that jacket, Lex," Clark said sleepily. Warm, and happy, and completely relaxed, Clark was asleep almost instantly.
Lex lay within Clark's arms, smiling as he listened to his lover's snorts, snuffles, and grunts. First thing Christmas morning, he was going to be sure to let Clark know that he snored.
The End
