The pleasures of the world are deceitful; they promise more than they give.
They trouble us in seeking them, they do not satisfy us when possessing them
and they make us despair in losing them.
-Madame de Lambert
Clark had left the mansion with angry tears stinging his eyes, but he wouldn't allow them to fall. He wouldn't give the world the satisfaction of seeing him cry, of seeing his humiliation manifested.
He'd made his way slowly, unseeing through the other guests, before stepping out into the cool night air, hearing the door shut behind him, cutting off all the happy voices within. At first he'd been in more shock than anything else, and tried to pay attention only to the sounds of his quick steps on the tarmac as he started his journey back home. But then, he felt the terrible isolation of a Smallville road at night, with nothing but a darkness devoid of streetlights, and the knowledge than on either side of you there was nothing but a vast expanse of fields, the wind through the crops causing haunting whispers.
That was when it came, a terrible mixture of anger and self-pity. The anger was directed completely towards himself at first, for his foolish hopes, for reacting so passionately that he'd probably totally freaked Lex out. God, he should have realised that Lex was in a strange mood, and that it wasn't the right time. But then, Lex had been the one to kiss him first…
He shook his head in bitter confusion. He didn't know what had been going through Lex's mind when he'd kissed him. Clark hadn't even been sure if Lex returned his feelings; in fact, hadn't he so easily questioned even Lex's friendship a few days ago? That surely should have told him how easily he could misinterpret his actions; and Lex, more than anyone else he knew, was very adept at disguising his real feelings.
But no, he'd prided himself on knowing Lex better than anyone, from being able to see the 'true' Lex when no one else could. It was one of the pillars of the 'special bond' he felt existed. The other of course, had been how happy Lex made him. Lex had made it pretty clear though that there was a limit to the happiness he wanted to give…
Goddammit, why does the world always tell us to 'seize the day', and take all the opportunities we have? Clark thought bitterly, turning his rage against life as a whole. It was always there, this motivational crap about living for today; they instil it into us by using our fear, by reminding us of how short life is, and how there might never be a second chance. After all, wasn't that the standard advice given in all of those 'Problem pages' in Chloe's magazines? "be open, tell them how you feel". What they all neglected to mention of course, was the incredible mortification that can come as a result.
Clark had seized the moment, he had kissed Lex back, he had let him know pretty damn clearly, of his attraction, if not his emotions. Mind you, the desperate pleading he had done afterwards must have made that obvious…
Clark was undecided whether he wanted to take out all his rage and just destroy something, anything, or whether to just wretch in his humiliation. He'd ruined it. He'd ruined everything, his friendship, any chance of …something else. Lex would never speak to him again, never be able to look at him with anything but disgust for himself.
Why hadn't he thought about this? Why hadn't he taken the time to lay some ground rules down for himself? He should have made sure that there was no room for confusion. He should have waited, read Lex's behaviour carefully, while at the same time gradually revealing his own. He would have known then whether he was way off the mark or not, he would have known when the right time was, and should have confessed his feelings to Lex only when he would be certain of a similar response.
But now what? Lex had kissed him – and for all Clark knew it could have just been a mixture of his unusually bitter mood and drunkenness, for who knows how many drinks Lex had had before he'd arrived, on top of the drink in the study? Maybe Lex had just felt screwed up, maybe he'd wanted to shock Clark, or his father, or just himself.
None of that really made any sense, but Clark felt now like he'd never known Lex at all. What if this was how he got sometimes? What if he really was just the bitter, screwed up kid everyone thought he was; just toying around with Clark's emotions for his own amusement, and had just gone a little too far this time?
Whatever had happened the result was the same. Lex had said it was a mistake. He'd regretted it. God, he hadn't even been able to look him in the eyes, he was so disgusted with him. He probably thought Clark was some mixed up kid looking for some unconventional sexual experience or something.
He hated himself. He hated himself for letting this happen so quickly, he hated himself for his reaction, he hated himself for being so confused. He hated his life.
Wasn't that what Lex had said though? Surely he hadn't misread that; Lex had definitely started talking to Clark, opening up finally after all the months of their friendship….
He was so confused, full of rage, but by this point he wasn't even sure who or what he was angry with. He was just filled with that horrible awkward feeling that everything was wrong, and there was no way out from here. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with his life after this.
Somewhere, he knew now - seeing bitterly all his own stupid misguided mistakes- that all along he'd believed, in the back of his mind, that Lex felt the same way. It was what all his hope was based on, the only reason for those moments when he'd found himself becoming comfortable with what he was, those moments when he'd felt it was a release to confess it all to his diary. It had all felt like some natural progression towards confessing his feelings to Lex, towards having him say the three words he yearned to hear, to be able to share everything with him, to break through the barrier of friendship which kept them apart, and kept him alone.
Now Clark feared a future of being what he was. Oh of course, he'd always been afraid of what he knew must come eventually; his parents' disappointments, his friends reactions, incomprehension or scorn, whatever would come when somebody eventually learned the truth. But as much as he'd never wanted to think about it, he knew now he'd always had an image in his mind of how it would all end; he imagined it'd be Chloe who found out, as it was she who was always poking her nose into his private affairs; and he'd imagined Lex and him sitting together, smiling at each other in love as they explained it all to her, and told her how happy they were.
It was a crazy stupid fantasy, and not one he'd re-played in his head, indulging himself by amending and changing until it was perfect. It was just something his hope had placed in his mind. An image conjured up by that part of you that said "You're scared. But it'll all turn out in the end. It has too." It was the voice that you often heard saying, "You'll look back on this and laugh", or the one that told you bad things happen to other people; your parents'll never get sick, your friends will never do anything stupid to themselves, there'll never be war or misery, and you'll end up happy, with a good job, kids and a mortgage, and die in your sleep in your nineties.
Clark had lost faith in that voice tonight. He knew now that it lied, it didn't know anything. The world could screw you up sometimes, it could make you feel like this, and nothing could make it better. He told himself to get real, to see the most likely future for him; Lex would never speak to him again. If he were lucky, no one would find out for a while. He'd just keep this secret locked within himself, letting it eat away at him, never being able to tell anyone. He'd have to suffer the pain of having his one dream shattered, while all the time coping with his powers, getting through school, working on this farm in this town for the rest of his life. He'd probably never have the courage to act on his feelings again. He could so easily end up living a lie, or living alone.
He wasn't sure he could go on like that, without the possibility of that hope, that dream he'd had.
Clark Kent was a natural born optimist. He'd always thought that in the end, everything would be fine, because it always had been. Now he was alone, he was ashamed of himself, of what he was, and his humiliation was only equal to his hopelessness.
One kiss, one single kiss, had taken away the one thing in his world than made him feel alive.
Clark began to run as fast as he could. He didn't know where he was going, he didn't care who might see him, he just wanted to put all his energy into the movement of his body, and to leave his life behind. It was only in the almost timeless world of his super-speed, that he finally allowed the tears to fall.
And once he'd started, he found he couldn't stop.
~ ~ ~
Lex was woken at six am by the sound of the telephone on his bedside table ringing. Rubbing the sleep away from his eyes, he reached for the receiver atomatically, not yet recalling the party, what he'd done or the terrible things he'd said.
That is until he heard Martha Kent's anxious voice, asking whether he knew why her son had failed to come home last night.
TBC
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