"Hopeless Bleak Despair
It was Always There
And Then One Day
It Disappeared"~~They Might Be Giants
Spike and Clark stayed up until 4:00 AM talking. Clark told Spike about his life on the farm. He talked a lot about Lex, and Spike listened carefully. He told Clark about his own life, he grew up in a normal middle class neighborhood, went to a normal school, blah, blah, blah. He made a fortune in the stock market when he was 23 and since then he had been able to live off his profits. Clark began to get uncomfortable when Spike talked about money. He had always been the same way with Lex.
"It's not a big deal. I try and live pretty simply, you know?"
"You were gonna spend three hundred dollars on a comic book and you call that living simply?"
"You did the same thing."
"For Lex."
"Look I know I don't really know you all that well, but I think maybe you should talk to somebody it seems like." Clark cut him off.
"I do. I see this psychiatrist twice a week. I guess maybe I'm not doing so well. I'm better than I used to be though."
"Well that's good."
"I do know that he's not coming back. I know that. It's just that-"
"It hurts, I know. I've lost people too."
"Does it ever stop hurting?"
"No." Clark bit his lip. "I'm not gonna lie to you kid, you're gonna miss Lex forever, and it's always going to hurt. But it does get less with time."
"You keep saying that."
"You keep asking." Clark yawned and rubbed his eyes.
"Sorry." Spike put his hand on Clark's. He squeezed gently. Clark squeezed back. Spikes other hand traveled to the farm boy's knee. He squeezed there too. Clark felt the heat growing in his crotch. Spike was beautiful; even better looking than Lex and Clark wanted to be touched again. He missed having hands all over his body. All he wanted was for things to go back to the way they where. He wanted. . . Clark wasn't sure what he wanted.
"Why don't we go back up to my room?" Spike's hand traced the lump in Clark's jeans. "I feel like I know everything about you, Clark. I promise that this won't be a one time thing. God I know that sounds-gay-'Spike winced at the word, "bad choice I know, but you understand what I mean, right?" Clark nodded.
"I can't do this. Not yet." Spike squeezed again. Clark moaned. Expert fingers started to unzip Clark's pants. "Not here, please stop." Spike let go completely.
"Look, here's my phone number," Spike wrote it down on the back of a flyer from the convention. "We can go out again. We'll talk more. How's that sound?"
"Yeah, okay." Clark took the sheet and stared at it blankly. "Wait." Clark called as Spike started to walk away.
"You okay man?"
"What's your name? I'm not gonna call you Spike forever."
"But that's what I like to be called." Clark gave him a desperate stare. He whimpered. "My name is Ralph, okay. Like in puke."
"I dunno, I kinda like that."
"Spike and nothing else."
"Jesus you are like Lex."
"I'm gonna take that as a complement whether or not it was meant to be."
"It was. I loved Lex, he was the bestest." Spike giggled. "You're pretty good too. And you stopped when I asked you too."
"Only a monster wouldn't."
"Lex's dad was a monster."
"He hurt you?"
"Lex."
"That sucks, man." Ralph, Spike, hugged Clark tightly. "You took good care of him when he was sick, right?"
"Yeah." Clark nodded. He couldn't imagine anyone else doing something other than what he had done.
"That makes you a really good person. LOTS of people leave their, husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, brothers, sisters, friends, whatever when they get a diagnosis like cancer."
"They do?" Clark seemed shocked. Spike just nodded. "Fuck. I'll call you, okay?" Spike smiled and kissed Clark on the temple.
"It's gonna be okay, kid. I promise."
"Tell me a story about Lex," Clark begged Rachel during a session about three months after he and Spike met.
"Aren't you supposed to be talking right now, Clark?" Rachel smiled and gently touched his shoulder.
"I spent all night talking to Spike; I'm all talked out. We 'um. Last night I slept with him."
"How do you feel about that?" Clark shrugged. "Don't do that to me, Clark. I know you better than that."
"It was good. And I don't feel as guilty as I did with Lana. I feel like it was okay, like it was allowed."
"Of course it was allowed. You know what Lex told you about relationships. And even if he hadn't said anything, it's not cheating on somebody when the person you were in love with has died."
"It still feels wrong." Clark sniffed.
"I know kiddo," she kissed his cheek. Clark blushed. He liked Rachel, unlike any woman since he had discovered his was a homosexual. When she touched him he felt safe. It wasn't a sexual thing, but more of a motherly type thing.
"Tell me?"
"Fine," Rachel sighed. "It's a rough one, you know? Most of my stories about him are."
"I know. Lex's life sucked most of the time. He tried to run away from it when he was like 18, in Metropolis, but that didn't work out."
"No, it didn't. I saw him during that time period; he didn't see me, thank God. It was bad though."
"I bet, but please, tell me the story!" Clark lay down on the sofa and cuddled a pillow.
When Rachel was seventeen she had some health problems that made it impossible for her to have a roommate. Because of this she moved out of the dormitory and into an apartment. Lex loved this. It meant that he didn't have to worry about Rachel's roommate when he came over to visit. He came over a lot. Rachel's apartment was safe.
Lex Luthor ran away from home when he was seventeen years old; he went to Rachel Stine's apartment. He pounded on the door, and rang the bell innocently until she opened up and let him inside.
"I need a drink." Lex all but screamed running for the fridge.
"Water?" Rachel suggested. She knew Lex wanted alcohol; she had it, but didn't want to give it to him in his current state. Because Rachel looked much older than her age she was easily able to get beer, wine, whatever. She personally hated the taste, but she got it for Lex and for her friends.
"No. Something that has a strong taste. I need it now."
"Oh God." The realization hit Rachel (PLEASE FORGIVE ME) like a ton of bricks. Lex reached into the refrigerator and took out a beer. He downed it in less than thirty seconds. Then the bald, terrified young man reached for another. Rachel grabbed his wrist. "Talk to me."
"He made me. . ." Lex sobbed. "It was awful. I never ever wanna do that again. It was worse than anything." Rachel got her first real good look at Lex then. His face was bruised; he would have a black eye the next morning, and a little bit of blood drizzled from his left nostril. He was wearing a long sleeve shirt, buttoned at the wrists despite the fact that it was August and sweltering.
"Oh, Lex. Not again."
"I'm sorry," he whimpered. "I know I should have come sooner, but he kept on hurting me and making me stay in."
"Come sit with me?" Rachel took the shaken, bald, boy over to the sofa and held him in her arms. She wrapped him supportively, but gave him enough room so he didn't feel constricted. Lex laid his head against her chest. He began to sob hysterically. Rachel hadn't seen him like this since his suicide attempt. "It's okay baby," Rachel stroked his head. She ran her fingers down his scalp, rubbed the spot on his neck she knew he enjoyed. "You're safe here," she soothed.
"I tried to fight a back," Lex looked up at her when he ran out of tears, although he far from finished crying. His chest was still heaving. Rachel wished she had an inhaler, or tranquilizers, anything that would help calm Lex down.
"I can see that, baby." Rachel kissed his bruises gently. "You get him anywhere good?"
"I scratched his cheek pretty badly; I wonder how he's gonna explain that one. 'Yes well I was forcing my son to perform fallatio on me and he tore my cheek open with his finger nails' doesn't exactly go over well anywhere."
"Lex I can't help if you hide behind all that cynicism. Tell me what you want me to do."
Spike and Clark stayed up until 4:00 AM talking. Clark told Spike about his life on the farm. He talked a lot about Lex, and Spike listened carefully. He told Clark about his own life, he grew up in a normal middle class neighborhood, went to a normal school, blah, blah, blah. He made a fortune in the stock market when he was 23 and since then he had been able to live off his profits. Clark began to get uncomfortable when Spike talked about money. He had always been the same way with Lex.
"It's not a big deal. I try and live pretty simply, you know?"
"You were gonna spend three hundred dollars on a comic book and you call that living simply?"
"You did the same thing."
"For Lex."
"Look I know I don't really know you all that well, but I think maybe you should talk to somebody it seems like." Clark cut him off.
"I do. I see this psychiatrist twice a week. I guess maybe I'm not doing so well. I'm better than I used to be though."
"Well that's good."
"I do know that he's not coming back. I know that. It's just that-"
"It hurts, I know. I've lost people too."
"Does it ever stop hurting?"
"No." Clark bit his lip. "I'm not gonna lie to you kid, you're gonna miss Lex forever, and it's always going to hurt. But it does get less with time."
"You keep saying that."
"You keep asking." Clark yawned and rubbed his eyes.
"Sorry." Spike put his hand on Clark's. He squeezed gently. Clark squeezed back. Spikes other hand traveled to the farm boy's knee. He squeezed there too. Clark felt the heat growing in his crotch. Spike was beautiful; even better looking than Lex and Clark wanted to be touched again. He missed having hands all over his body. All he wanted was for things to go back to the way they where. He wanted. . . Clark wasn't sure what he wanted.
"Why don't we go back up to my room?" Spike's hand traced the lump in Clark's jeans. "I feel like I know everything about you, Clark. I promise that this won't be a one time thing. God I know that sounds-gay-'Spike winced at the word, "bad choice I know, but you understand what I mean, right?" Clark nodded.
"I can't do this. Not yet." Spike squeezed again. Clark moaned. Expert fingers started to unzip Clark's pants. "Not here, please stop." Spike let go completely.
"Look, here's my phone number," Spike wrote it down on the back of a flyer from the convention. "We can go out again. We'll talk more. How's that sound?"
"Yeah, okay." Clark took the sheet and stared at it blankly. "Wait." Clark called as Spike started to walk away.
"You okay man?"
"What's your name? I'm not gonna call you Spike forever."
"But that's what I like to be called." Clark gave him a desperate stare. He whimpered. "My name is Ralph, okay. Like in puke."
"I dunno, I kinda like that."
"Spike and nothing else."
"Jesus you are like Lex."
"I'm gonna take that as a complement whether or not it was meant to be."
"It was. I loved Lex, he was the bestest." Spike giggled. "You're pretty good too. And you stopped when I asked you too."
"Only a monster wouldn't."
"Lex's dad was a monster."
"He hurt you?"
"Lex."
"That sucks, man." Ralph, Spike, hugged Clark tightly. "You took good care of him when he was sick, right?"
"Yeah." Clark nodded. He couldn't imagine anyone else doing something other than what he had done.
"That makes you a really good person. LOTS of people leave their, husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, brothers, sisters, friends, whatever when they get a diagnosis like cancer."
"They do?" Clark seemed shocked. Spike just nodded. "Fuck. I'll call you, okay?" Spike smiled and kissed Clark on the temple.
"It's gonna be okay, kid. I promise."
"Tell me a story about Lex," Clark begged Rachel during a session about three months after he and Spike met.
"Aren't you supposed to be talking right now, Clark?" Rachel smiled and gently touched his shoulder.
"I spent all night talking to Spike; I'm all talked out. We 'um. Last night I slept with him."
"How do you feel about that?" Clark shrugged. "Don't do that to me, Clark. I know you better than that."
"It was good. And I don't feel as guilty as I did with Lana. I feel like it was okay, like it was allowed."
"Of course it was allowed. You know what Lex told you about relationships. And even if he hadn't said anything, it's not cheating on somebody when the person you were in love with has died."
"It still feels wrong." Clark sniffed.
"I know kiddo," she kissed his cheek. Clark blushed. He liked Rachel, unlike any woman since he had discovered his was a homosexual. When she touched him he felt safe. It wasn't a sexual thing, but more of a motherly type thing.
"Tell me?"
"Fine," Rachel sighed. "It's a rough one, you know? Most of my stories about him are."
"I know. Lex's life sucked most of the time. He tried to run away from it when he was like 18, in Metropolis, but that didn't work out."
"No, it didn't. I saw him during that time period; he didn't see me, thank God. It was bad though."
"I bet, but please, tell me the story!" Clark lay down on the sofa and cuddled a pillow.
When Rachel was seventeen she had some health problems that made it impossible for her to have a roommate. Because of this she moved out of the dormitory and into an apartment. Lex loved this. It meant that he didn't have to worry about Rachel's roommate when he came over to visit. He came over a lot. Rachel's apartment was safe.
Lex Luthor ran away from home when he was seventeen years old; he went to Rachel Stine's apartment. He pounded on the door, and rang the bell innocently until she opened up and let him inside.
"I need a drink." Lex all but screamed running for the fridge.
"Water?" Rachel suggested. She knew Lex wanted alcohol; she had it, but didn't want to give it to him in his current state. Because Rachel looked much older than her age she was easily able to get beer, wine, whatever. She personally hated the taste, but she got it for Lex and for her friends.
"No. Something that has a strong taste. I need it now."
"Oh God." The realization hit Rachel (PLEASE FORGIVE ME) like a ton of bricks. Lex reached into the refrigerator and took out a beer. He downed it in less than thirty seconds. Then the bald, terrified young man reached for another. Rachel grabbed his wrist. "Talk to me."
"He made me. . ." Lex sobbed. "It was awful. I never ever wanna do that again. It was worse than anything." Rachel got her first real good look at Lex then. His face was bruised; he would have a black eye the next morning, and a little bit of blood drizzled from his left nostril. He was wearing a long sleeve shirt, buttoned at the wrists despite the fact that it was August and sweltering.
"Oh, Lex. Not again."
"I'm sorry," he whimpered. "I know I should have come sooner, but he kept on hurting me and making me stay in."
"Come sit with me?" Rachel took the shaken, bald, boy over to the sofa and held him in her arms. She wrapped him supportively, but gave him enough room so he didn't feel constricted. Lex laid his head against her chest. He began to sob hysterically. Rachel hadn't seen him like this since his suicide attempt. "It's okay baby," Rachel stroked his head. She ran her fingers down his scalp, rubbed the spot on his neck she knew he enjoyed. "You're safe here," she soothed.
"I tried to fight a back," Lex looked up at her when he ran out of tears, although he far from finished crying. His chest was still heaving. Rachel wished she had an inhaler, or tranquilizers, anything that would help calm Lex down.
"I can see that, baby." Rachel kissed his bruises gently. "You get him anywhere good?"
"I scratched his cheek pretty badly; I wonder how he's gonna explain that one. 'Yes well I was forcing my son to perform fallatio on me and he tore my cheek open with his finger nails' doesn't exactly go over well anywhere."
"Lex I can't help if you hide behind all that cynicism. Tell me what you want me to do."
