Spoilers: v.vague "Nicodemus"
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No, they didn't know.
They didn't know that Lex had come by again that night. Clark had been waiting , drawing out his cups of coffee as long as he could, telling himself hat he wasn't quite ready to go home yet. But he knew he was lying to himself. He had lied to the others earlier. They had felt ready to leave, and he had waved them on, gesturing at his mug.
"I'll just finish this, then I'm off too." He was amazed at how easily he had lied. A wide, apologetic Clark-grin, all white teeth, and twinkling eyes and they had accepted it. Goofy old Clark – slow drinker, and so stubborn that he would refuse to waste his money by not finishing the very last drop of coffee. Typical Clark.
He'd still been sitting there an hour later. True, he had been reading the latest issue of The Torch repeatedly, rather than letting his thoughts roam (fairly) free, like he had the week before. But nevertheless, he knew as soon as Lex walked in, that he had been waiting for him. He was always waiting for him…he just never realised until he saw him.
Lex had strode in, again dressed casually, and again, despite his well-familiar and well-practiced self control, the confident swagger, and the detached, yet faintly amused façade he used to face the world on a daily basis, despite all this, Clark thought for a second he saw a real look of pleasure and…relief, when Lex spotted him. He'd looked around more casually this week, on his entrance. He'd stood at the counter, hands in pockets, and glanced round a fair portion of the room before he let his eyes search out his friend's usual table. And he took care to sit, as last time, on the seat opposite Clark, rather than on the couch next to him.
"Well, Clark" he'd began, with that typical Luthor wry grin. The voice of Clark's forbidden thoughts nagged to be heard, whispering Don't you love it when he says your name? Doesn't your heart leap to your throat? Clark could only permit himself at that point to sense the vague impression of those whisperings, rather than the individual words, but was nevertheless filled with a buzz of fear and excitement.
"We meet again." Lex had continued.
Clark had smiled at his friend in what he hoped was a casual way, not asking himself in what other way he would otherwise have been be looking at the man across from him, who seemed to be able to exude confidence and poise even drinking coffee.
"What, Lex, no meetings? No trips to Metropolis, no date? Again?" He sounded his normal teasing self, but inside his heart had gone fluttering with panic at the word 'date'.
So still was Lex's composure, that had Clark known him a little longer, he would have realised it was the practiced calm of someone who was used to hiding their emotions.
After a beat he gave a small smile back.
"I've decided that I deserve at least one night a week off."
"And you chose Friday? As in Friday night, second only to Saturday night in significance, socially speaking?" Clark had asked as Lex had taken a tentative sip of his coffee.
"Well, you're not doing anything eitherClark." Lex had retorted playfully.
There had been a moment then. On the surface it seemed merely like a brief pause, and an onlooker might have thought it was due to both of them feeling a fleeting moment of self-pity for their lack of plans.
But the truth was, that both of them had hesitated in their minds at Lex's comment. Both saw the other possible meaning in those words. Clark would ponder them for the next week, and beyond...he was still wondering to the moment of writing about this in his diary. Wondering whether it was too much to take Lex's reply as an explanation for his choice of evenings off, an explanation that he had chosen that day because for the second week in a row, he had seen that Clark wasn't otherwise engaged.
Or perhaps it had simply been as it had sounded – a good-humored come-back in response to Clark's teasingly superior attitude. Perhaps that's how Lex had intended it…and perhaps he had realised too that there could be a deeper meaning. Perhaps he had wondered just how the raven-haired boy opposite him had taken it.
The moment passed though, each easing into more comfortable conversation. They had talked about general things mostly, ignoring any of the tension that had existed between them during the Nicodemus incident. Clark never mentioned how glad he had been to see Lex at the hospital, how immediately comforted he had been. Lex never brought up Lana's behaviour, or asked Clark about his reaction to her new, 'confident' attitude.
And neither one of them had said they would repeat this the next week.
But they did. Clark ,again, stayed behind, and again Lex came in a little while later. It happened every week after that, with Lex coming just that bit earlier each week, as if trying to get a feel for just how long Clark waited after Chloe and Pete had left. They always stayed until late though.
Every week they had been meeting, and strangely, their time on that Friday night would have a different feel to it than the other times they met. They never really brought up any of the times they'd seen each other, if any, during the week. They never went to the Talon, regardless of their regular visits there at other times. They never mentioned why they didn't, why they wanted to have a conversation together, unwatched by a certain assistant manager. Clark felt the evenings were ultimately something precious, something private, and as such he never mentioned anything about them to anyone. As far as his parents knew a group of them all hung out at the Talon on Friday nights. Clark had wanted so abdly, to have something that was just his and Lex's.
At first, they had talked about those general things of the first two instances. It was entertaining banter about living in Smallville, Clark's studies, Lex's 'lessons on life', movies and books, sports and music. It didn't matter about the content, or whether they had the same tastes or not, it was as if the conversation was there only as an excuse to be in each others' presence.
And then, at their last meeting, a weekend and a day before Clark had come home and put pen to paper in his fortress of solitude, they had found themselves talking seriously.
He had no idea how it happened. It wasn't about Clark's suspicions and discomforting thoughts of course – it was only tonight that he truly talked about those with anyone, albeit if it was with himself, via the diary. But it had still been something close to his heart.
Somehow, Lex had got him talking about his parents. His real parents. It was a censored version of course, in terms of fact, but it was the most honest account of his feelings about his abandonment that he had ever given to anyone. He told Lex about his fears, about whether he had been unwanted because of something about him…maybe he wasn't what they had expected. Or what if his parents had died? What if he had just purely been abandoned, with no message anywhere in the world to explain why? He told of the guilt he felt about yearning for parents he'd never knew, who'd given him nothing but life, when he had two people now who cared about him so much. He poured out his heart.
His voice became thick, and he felt the beginnings of tears in his eyes, but he didn't restrain himself, didn't stop, as Lex encouraged him to continue. His voice, his looks were the most tender Clark had ever seen, and he even saw the pain of compassion on Lex's face as he quietly expressed his fears, the two of them sitting side by side for once, feeling the need for the support of close proximity.
When he was finished Clark had looked into Lex's eyes with complete vulnerability.
That's when he had felt the yearning to hold him, to be held by him.
That's when he felt the first true pangs of love.
He had eventually laughed away the seriousness of the moment, and apologised for getting all emotional. Lex had stopped him, saying after a moment,
"Clark there's no need. I'll always be here if you need me." He'd said it with a tone of complete truth. It was a fact, not an offer. It was a pledge of understanding.
Clark had been surprised at the shock and emotion that had involuntarily crossed over his friend's face when he had replied just as determinedly, and yet softly,
"I'll always be here for you too Lex."
So grateful did Lex look, Clark wondered with a heavy heart whetehr he'd been the first person to ever say those words to him…
They had parted that night, never before having felt so close a bond between them.
~ ~ ~
And that was the end of Clark's account of his struggles up to this night. At least, that was all he felt he could write about at this point. The fears for the future, this sudden terrible sense of the unknown was something that could wait for tomorrow. He didn't want to think about where he went from here, or how he would live with tonight, with what he had written.
For regardless of his earlier assessment, he really wasn't as wired anymore as he'd thought. He never had to worry about lying in his bed staring up at the ceiling while his thoughts kept him awake.
Instead, he succumbed to exhaustion right there and then, enveloped in his blanket and in his solitude, on the couch in the barn.
~ ~ ~
Clark never knew whether it was the beam of sunlight that hit his eyes, or the creaking of a floorboard that woke him first, or whether it was the mixture of both.
All he knew was how quickly he analysed the scene before him.
His hands were empty. The diary was instead placed neatly on the table next to him. And looking up past them, he saw Lex standing there, his eyes quickly shifting away from Clark's in unmistakable guilt.
TBC
EML
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