Rolls, Ferraris, and Porsches, Oh My!--Kel
Notes: This is Alex's fault. She found the cars for me. *mwah!*
http://carpoint.msn.com/vip/overview/Rolls-Royce/Corniche/new.asp is the car in question. Thanks also to Dorian for the suggestion of Clark's line about giving himself to the owner of the car.
Rolls and Porsches and Ferraris, Oh My!
Clark was just pulling his truck around the service road to the back of the mansion when he saw it. Lex's new acquisition.
The 2002 Rolls-Royce Corniche convertible.
Sleek and flowing, the silver car beckoned the young man over, and Clark parked the truck as he jumped out of the driver's seat and flew over to the car. He ran his hands lovingly over the long body, caressing the windshield reverently. His fingertips gloried in the soft lambskin and leather interiors as he reached in. The steering wheel was molded leather, and it just begged his fingers to wrap around it. Carefully, he tested the door, and was pleasantly surprised when no alarm went off. Clark slipped into the driver's seat, his hands wrapping around the wheel and settling into the molded grooves. His back and buttocks were cushioned by the soft lambskin seats that fit his body perfectly. He flipped down the sun visor, and a pair of mirrored Ray-Ban aviator glasses fell into his lap, and he slipped those on and checked himself out in the mirror.
He was in love with Lex's new car.
Leaning his head back against the headrest, Clark smiled at his reflection as he imagined blasting along the road behind the wheel, stereo cranked and blaring his favorite driving music, Lex in a black muscle tee with no sleeves, black jeans and biker boots--and whoa, where the hell did that image come from? Clark snapped his eyes open under the sunglasses and smiled again. It was a nice image, and he let it settle into his head as he continued his imaginary drive, the strains of Remy Zero playing along in his head.
After a while, Clark straightened in the seat. He had to get his hands on this car. No matter what. He'd blow Lex, fuck him, stand on his head and recite Walt fucking Whitman to get the keys from his lover.
Slipping the sunglasses off and back into the sun visor, Clark reluctantly left the beautiful car after throwing a final, longing look at the powerful machine before disappearing into the mansion. His mind on the car, his feet carried him habitually to Lex's office. "Lex, I…" He caught sight of Lionel Luthor stalking around Lex's desk. "… didn't know you were busy," he finished lamely.
"It's quite all right, Clark. My father was just leaving. Weren't you, Dad." It didn't sound like a question to Clark's ears.
"We'll talk again soon, Lex."
"Oh, I'm just so overjoyed at the prospect of another little father-son chat."
Clark flinched at the sarcasm, even though it wasn't directed at him. Lex sounded furious. Maybe a drive would chill him out.
"Is my car still out front?"
"I assume so, unless one of the staff has turned car thief on me."
"Holy shit," Clark said, and then clapped his hands over his mouth as Lionel and Lex both turned to look at him. That was Lionel's car.
"You have something to say, Mr. Kent?"
Clark was shocked by the next thing that popped out of his mouth in response to Lionel's question. "I want your car, Mr. Luthor. I'll give myself to anyone that can give me that car."
Lionel slid his eyes appraisingly over Clark once, and then reached into his pocket and dangled his keys in front of the boy.
Lex nearly jumped out of his skin at the jangle of car keys. "Clark?"
"I want the car, Lex. Have you seen the car? 325 horsepower engine. Automatic transmission which means I could actually drive the damn thing." Clark's eyes were hypnotized by the jingling keys. "The interior is like sitting on clouds. The leather, the lambskin… the steering wheel is made for my hands. The seat fits me perfectly, Lex. The car is made for me. I want the car. The car wants me."
Lionel jingled the keys again, and Clark grabbed for them. His hands closed around the rough edges and Lionel released them only after kissing Clark hard. "The car is yours, and you are mine. Deal?"
Clark studied the keys in his hand, remembered the utter perfection of sitting behind the wheel in the sunglasses, and licked his lips. "Deal."
"Clark, I'll buy you the fucking car!" Lex shouted. But Clark was already gone, keys in hand as he raced out to the car and slipped into the driver's seat. The car cranked like a dream, and as he strapped himself in with the seat belt, he revved the engine.
"OH MY GOD! I FUCKING LOVE THIS CAR!!"
Lex was running full-out behind Clark, but even so, somehow his father had beaten him out and was climbing into the passenger side beside Clark. Lex shook his head. "CLARK!" he shouted, straining to be heard over the thundering radio and the revving engine. "CLARK!"
Clark shifted the car into drive and floored the pedal, and the Rolls-Royce flew along the driveway in a cloud of dust, the boy's shrieks of pleasure dying in Lex's ear.
"I knew I should have bought that fucking Bentley," he snarled.
Clark jolted awake. He looked over, and exhaled in relief as he saw moonlight dancing across his lover's bald skull. "Oh thank God," he breathed, and dropped back onto the bed, shaking it. Then he rolled over and shook Lex's shoulder. "Lex? Lex, you awake?"
A gusty sigh preceded his words. "I am now."
"Lex, does your father have a Rolls Royce?"
There was a very long pause, then Lex's arm reached over Clark and found his mother's watch by touch. Lex examined the face. "You woke me up at two-eighteen in the morning to ask me about my father's cars?"
"Well? Does he?" Clark was sitting up in bed now, his arms resting on his knees.
"I have no idea what cars my father has in his garage, Clark." Lex's tone was exasperated. "Go back to sleep." He waited for Clark to lie back down, and when he didn't, Lex sighed again. "Clark," he started warningly.
"I just had this really weird dream." Clark turned his head to look down pleadingly at Lex.
"About my father's possibly non-existent Rolls Royce?" Lex refused to meet the wounded-puppy eyes of his lover. "Go. Back. To. Sleep."
"Okay, fine. I'll go back to sleep. Maybe your father and I will drive my new Rolls down to the coast or something after he kisses me again." Clark started to lie down and turn over, but Lex's hand stopped him. "What? I'm going back to sleep."
"You mention that you dreamed about my father kissing you in his car and then you expect to go back to sleep?" The mention of Clark dreaming about his father had shocked Lex to complete wakefulness. "You are going to explain that."
"Hey, I tried, you weren't interested," Clark said sulkily.
Lex rolled his eyes. "Look, I wasn't fully awake. I didn't realize what you were trying to tell me. Why don't you explain everything to me now?"
"Okay, it happened like this." Clark flipped over so that he was face to face with Lex and propped his head up on his hand. "I had come over to deliver your produce right?"
"Right."
"Right. Anyway, there was this beautiful car parked out front. A Rolls-Royce Corniche convertible. This car wanted me, Lex. I got in and it fit me, the seats fit me, there was even a pair of sunglasses clipped to the visor that fell into my lap. I mean, this car and I were tight."
"Tight with the Rolls Royce. Clark, not to rush you or anything, but where does my father come into this?" Lex was trying to be patient.
"Right, hold your horsepower, I'm getting there. Anyway, I went into the house to see if I could get the keys out of you, only… they weren't yours. I got to your office, and your dad was there, stalking around and looking… you know, pissy, like he always does."
Lex had to grin at that assessment of his father's perennial attitude. "Pissy. That's a description I hadn't thought of before."
"Right. Anyway, he was there being all pissy, and I was going to ask for the keys to the Rolls, only you make him leave, and he says something about it being his car out front."
"And I bet you were just horrified to learn that the car of your dreams belonged to my pissy father."
"Um… not exactly." Suddenly Clark was unable to meet Lex's eyes. "I um… I said that I'd kinda… you know… go with anyone that could give me the car. So your dad, he um… dangled the keys in front of me. You tried to talk me out of it, but your dad… he jingled the keys again, and then when I reached up for the keys he kinda… kissed me." Clark couldn't help the shudder that shot through his body. It shook the entire bed. "Then he gave me the keys and we took off."
Lex was speechless for long moments as he tried to comprehend the scenario that Clark had just laid out for him. "You wanted my father's Rolls Royce, so you traded yourself for the keys and he kissed you in front of me and dragged you out to the car?"
"He didn't exactly drag me. I ran. For the car! Before he could change his mind!" Clark started shrinking to the other side of the bed, pulling his arms and legs in tight under the murderous glare of his lover.
"You left me for my father and his Rolls fucking Royce?" Lex's voice was rising. "Do I not feed your car fetish, Clark?"
"You've got sticks! I can't drive a stick shift--unless it's the old tractor!" Clark protested, seconds before Lex began beating him with one of the pillows.
"This is the last time that you get to cruise the new car sites with me, Clark! I told you that fucking car would give you nightmares!" Lex dropped the pillow. "Jesus! Left me for a fucking Rolls Royce!"
"But it was a really hot car!"
"Not helping your case here, lover!" Lex shot back, popping Clark with the pillow again.
"Hey, you're the one who never buys an automatic trannie."
"I can't believe it's a quarter to fucking three in the morning, and we're talking about stick shifts and automatic transmissions." Lex threw himself backwards onto the pillows. "This is… this is like a really bad SNL sketch." He sighed. "The Great Transmission Debate."
"If it helps any, I didn't like getting kissed by your father. His beard felt… weird."
"…" Lex's face had a classic what the fuck? look.
"Well it did!!" Clark protested. "You're smooth and soft and I like kissing you. I don't like kissing your dad."
"Clark. Do me one favor, all right?"
"Anything, Lex."
"Will you please stop talking about my father while you're in bed with me?"
"Oh. Right. Sorry."
"Thanks so much."
"Hey, no problem, stick man."
"Clark?"
"Yeah?"
"One more stick crack, and I'm going to shove one up your ass."
"Really??"
"…" Again Lex felt the what the fuck? look crossing his face.
"What?"
"I didn't mean mine, Clark."
"Oh."
"Will you just go back to sleep?"
"Only if you promise to teach me how to drive a stick in the morning."
Lex counted silently to ten in Greek. "I promise that I will teach you in the morning if and only if you swear to me now that you will go back to sleep."
Soft fake snores were his reply, and Lex collapsed back onto the bed again. Clark rolled over beside him, his head snuggling into Lex's shoulder, and finally the bald man smiled. Despite the frustration, Clark was the first--only--lover who had bothered to even want to share his troubling dreams with Lex, and he watched Clark slowly relax back into true slumber.
Epilogue: Two Weeks Later
Lex's new Ferrari Modena had arrived right on schedule, and Clark was rocking excitedly on his heels, bouncing. Lex had been tutoring him in sticks over the last two weeks, and finally, three days ago, Lex had pronounced the young man ready to drive and promised Clark that his first real drive would be in the new Ferrari.
Clark had just settled behind the wheel when Lex passed him a small black case with a red ribbon. Ripping the ribbon off the case, Clark snapped it open to find a new pair of mirrored Ray-Bans. "They're not the aviator type," Lex apologized. "But trust me, these look better on you."
"Thank you." Clark kissed Lex fiercely, cupping his lover's face in his hands. "I love you."
Lex just smiled easily and slipped on his own glasses, throwing an arm around Clark's shoulders when he was done. He had opened his mouth to tell Clark to crank the new automobile when another car pulled into the drive and headed for the main circle.
Clark and Lex both choked at the same time; Lex recognized his father behind the wheel of the Rolls convertible as Clark recognized the car. The two lovers looked at each other, and in unison they said… "Just drive."
The End